As we watch from our vantage point on a nearby hill, Taesung's forces advance with frightening speed and precision. Through my heightened senses, I can make out details that send a chill down my spine.
"Those aren't just soldiers," I murmur, my voice tight with horror. "Look at them closely."
Joon-ho raises a pair of binoculars to his eyes, then lowers them slowly, his face pale. "They're... civilians. Or they were."
Seok-jin leans forward, his expression grim. "The survivors from Donghae. The ones who went seeking shelter..."
I nod, the weight of this revelation settling heavily on my shoulders. "Taesung must have injected them all, brought them under his control. They're not just fighting for him; they're puppets."
The implications are staggering. These aren't faceless enemy combatants, but ordinary people - men, women, perhaps even children - who sought safety only to be turned into unwilling soldiers in Taesung's army.
