The beeping of machines pulsed rhythmically in the dimly lit hospital room, gradually breaking through the fog that enveloped Daniel Park. It felt as though he was emerging from a deep, dark abyss, the sensation both disorienting and frightening. With a heavy blink, he tried to open his eyes, but the light felt blinding, stabbing at his senses.
As his vision cleared, he saw blurred figures moving in and out of focus. The sterile smell of antiseptic was overwhelming, and an unfamiliar weight pressed down on his chest. Panic surged through him as fragmented memories flickered—shouts, violence, and the haunting sensation of falling.
"Daniel!" A familiar voice broke through the haze, urgent and filled with relief. Johan Seong leaned over him, his eyes wide with concern. Daniel's heart raced as the reality of his situation flooded back, igniting a sense of fear.
"Wha—what happened?" Daniel croaked, his throat dry and sore. The words felt foreign, as if he hadn't spoken in ages.
"You're safe now. Just breathe," Johan said, his voice steadier than the frantic heartbeat echoing in Daniel's ears. "You were unconscious for days."
Days? The word sent a shiver down Daniel's spine as he tried to sit up, only to be gently pushed back down by Johan. "You need to rest. We were so worried about you."
Confusion washed over him. "What do you mean? What happened?" His mind raced, but no clear images came to him. The memories were elusive, like smoke slipping through his fingers.
Goo Kim stepped into view, his expression a mix of relief and anguish. "You don't remember?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "There was an attack… you tried to help us, and then… you were gone."
Daniel frowned, the words failing to spark recognition. "I… I can't remember anything," he admitted, panic creeping into his voice. The absence of memories felt like a void, deep and consuming. "It's all a blur."
"Hey, it's not your fault," Johan reassured him, but Daniel could see the strain in his friend's eyes. The trauma of the event had etched itself into their faces, leaving a mark that wouldn't easily fade.
As he lay back, the reality of what had happened began to seep in. The emotional fallout would be just as intense as the physical injuries, and Daniel realized that waking up was only the beginning of a long journey ahead—not just for him, but for all of them.
The room felt suffocating, the burden of unspoken fears hanging in the air. Daniel knew that healing would require more than just time; it would demand confronting the shadows that loomed over them all.