Kim Jeong-hyeon gripped Su-yeon's arm tightly, pulling her out of the room in hurried strides. His face betrayed a worry he couldn't mask, no matter how hard he tried.
"Oppa, I'm sorry! I can't stay with you any longer..." Su-yeon whispered apologetically, her voice nearly swallowed by the chaotic murmur around them.
"Director Kim! Thank you for coming. And Su-yeon, take care on your way out!" one of the guests called after them as they disappeared through the doors.
Apocalypse D-14, March 31, 2029, 8:30 PM.
The funeral hall was now empty. Quiet. The silence seemed so profound it rivaled the grave itself. Only Dong-Joo remained, accompanied by his younger sister, Dong-ah.
The funeral staff had long departed, leaving behind tables cluttered with plates of uneaten food and half-empty bottles of soju. In the corridor, slippers lay scattered, some overturned or missing their pairs. Room 202 across the hall was equally silent, though faintly audible through the thin walls was the droning voice of a newscaster, repeating the same report on a loop. The distant sound of her words felt eerier than their content.
"Dong-ah..." Dong-Joo broke the stillness, his deep voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Oppa, is it true? Is the world really going to end like this?" Dong-ah's voice trembled, her question carrying a weight of fear far greater than mere curiosity.
Dong-Joo swallowed hard, forcing himself to suppress the doubts gnawing at his mind. "Don't worry too much. It could just be fake news... or maybe NASA's announcement isn't entirely accurate."
Dong-ah didn't reply, her eyes searching his face for an assurance she wasn't finding.
"Besides," Dong-Joo continued, trying to sound more confident than he felt,
"we've seen movies like this, haven't we? The heroes always come up with a way to destroy the asteroid—nuclear missiles or something like that. I'm sure they've got a plan."
"But..." Dong-ah lowered her head, her voice barely audible.
"The time is too short, Oppa."
"There's still two weeks," Dong-Joo said with forced optimism.
"That's enough time to prepare for anything."
Yet deep down, he didn't believe his own words. Two weeks? What could humanity possibly accomplish in two weeks against the end of the world?
The clock in the corner of the room ticked softly, as though mocking them. 8:55 PM. Dong-Joo glanced at his phone screen, hoping for an official government announcement that would offer even a sliver of hope. But there was nothing—just the same news being endlessly regurgitated.
"They have to have a solution, right?" he thought, though the question sounded more like a prayer than anything else.
Suddenly, heavy, hurried footsteps echoed from the stairwell outside. Dong-ah turned quickly, while Dong-Joo rose to his feet, hesitating.
"Dong-ah! I'm sorry I'm late!"
A man burst into the doorway, his breathing labored but his face bright with relief.
"It's fine," Dong-ah replied, rushing toward him.
"You were here yesterday too. You must be busy. But... have you seen the news?"
The man, Choi Yong-seok, nodded. He shrugged off his jacket, exhaling deeply before answering.
"Yeah, I heard it on the radio on my way here. But it sounds like a bad dream, doesn't it? There's no way it's true. Right? Tell me I'm right, Hyung." He looked to Dong-Joo with hopeful eyes, as if his brother-in-law might hold all the answers.
Dong-Joo let out a heavy sigh, meeting Yong-seok's gaze with a somber expression. "I wish I could tell you that..."
Choi Yong-seok was a young lieutenant in South Korea's 10th Infantry Division, tasked with overseeing security in Gwangju and South Jeolla Province. Normally, his demeanor was self-assured, brimming with the confidence of a soldier. But tonight, he appeared distinctly human—vulnerable in a way Dong-Joo hadn't seen before.
Above them, in the dark expanse of the sky, the asteroid they spoke of continued its unrelenting approach. Indifferent to their hopes, fears, or plans.
****
Since high school, Choi Yong-Seok had harbored deep feelings for Dong-Ah. It wasn't just a simple crush; he loved her with all his heart. However, for Dong-Ah, Yong-Seok was nothing more than a friend, no different from any other. Every time Yong-Seok tried to get closer, Dong-Ah would retreat, erecting an invisible wall between them that, although unseen, could be felt with clarity. But Yong-Seok wasn't one to give up easily. Years passed, even more than a decade, yet his devotion never waned. He was always there, like a shadow faithfully following Dong-Ah's every step.
Perhaps there was some truth to the old saying: "No heart is too hard to soften with perseverance." Slowly, small cracks began to appear in the wall Dong-Ah had built over the years. Lately, she had started to open up, giving Yong-Seok a chance to break through.
***
On the second floor of the Cheonha funeral home, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. The mourners, who had previously been absorbed in their personal grief, now gathered in the lounge, their attention diverted to the television screen. An official announcement from the Presidential Palace regarding the impending asteroid threat was about to be made. The shadow of death, which had long been a familiar presence in this place, now seemed more real, more urgent.
"Let's hope NASA is wrong," muttered someone in the crowd.
"Let's hope this is just a simulation error..."
Dong-Joo stood in the middle of them, his eyes fixed on the screen, ears listening intently to every word. He swallowed, trying to calm the anxiety that slowly spread within him.
On the screen, a presenter with a tense expression appeared.
"The government is aware that this situation is an urgent crisis that could determine the future of our nation. Therefore, immediate measures are being taken. The President, along with the executive and military officials, has formed a National Security Emergency Committee, which is currently in session. Let us watch live from there."
The screen shifted, showing the tense atmosphere of the meeting room. The camera focused on President Park Min-Woo, who sat upright, his serious face in the front row.
"The government regards this asteroid threat as a national emergency equivalent to a state of war or a major disaster," the President stated in a firm voice.
"Under such circumstances, the execution of administrative and judicial functions becomes extremely difficult. Therefore, with a heavy heart, the government is declaring a military emergency starting now. We must mobilize all of the nation's resources to prevent chaos and maintain social stability. We ask for understanding and cooperation from all citizens. Moving forward, the Emergency Military Commander will lead the control and security systems."
Dong-Joo felt his breath catch. A military emergency? This was worse than he had imagined. The tension in the room seemed palpable, like the air was thickening with every passing second.
The announcement continued, now being delivered by a spokesperson who replaced the President at the podium.
"Under the provisions of this emergency order, starting at 6:00 PM, gatherings of more than four people will be prohibited. Starting at 9:00 PM, travel restrictions will be enforced across the country. The government is also working closely with major countries, including the United States, China, Russia, and Japan, to establish the Code-One system. This system allows for the real-time sharing of information regarding the asteroid threat."
The spokesperson paused for a moment, looking directly into the camera.
"In seven days, we will launch a spacecraft equipped with all available tactical nuclear weapons to destroy or divert the asteroid's course. If this measure fails, we have prepared a backup plan for the survival of humanity. We ask all of you to remain calm, trust the government, and continue living as usual. This concludes our announcement."
As the television screen slowly rolled back up, Dong-Joo remained frozen, absorbing the words he had just heard. The world, which had once felt so ordinary, was now on the brink of destruction. The question was, were they strong enough to fight what was coming?