Hah... hah... hah... Ragged breathing filled the silence of the night.
Run… I need to run… Please… I need to escape… I'm scared…
A lone figure staggered through the dense forest, her steps uneven, her body barely holding on. The towering trees stretched endlessly around her. The rustling leaves beneath her feet, the whisper of the wind through the branches—everything felt distant, muted, as though the world itself was slipping away.
She was clad in a torn, matte-black combat suit. The flexible material clung to her battered frame, reinforced with armored plating at the chest and joints, but now, it was shredded in places, barely offering protection. A tactical harness was strapped across her torso, meant for carrying spare magazines and throwing knives, though many of them had been lost during her desperate escape.
Her body was a wreck. Blood soaked through the fabric of her clothing, warm and sticky, seeping from a deep stab wound in her left leg. Every step sent fresh agony surging through her limb, but stopping wasn't an option. Bruises darkened her skin, a sickening purple stain wrapped around her throat—a clear sign of hands that had tried to squeeze the life out of her.
Her right eye was swollen shut, the flesh tender and burning, the result of repeated, merciless blows. Each shallow breath sent a sharp pain lancing through her ribs, the taste of blood thick in her mouth. The memory of the brutal punch to her gut echoed in her mind, her body still reeling from the impact.
Her vision blurred. The forest spun around her.
Please… someone… help…
The silent plea barely left her lips before her knees buckled. She tumbled forward, her body crashing onto the damp, unforgiving ground. The scent of earth filled her nostrils as the cold seeped into her skin.
And then, darkness swallowed her whole.
—
"Where are you, you damn fucker?!"
A furious voice tore through the night, its venomous rage piercing the silence of the dense forest. The air was thick with tension, the rustling of leaves barely audible beneath the raw fury lacing each syllable.
"You better pray to your God that I never find you! Because if I do, I'll slice your head off and offer it to the monsters lurking in this damn forest!"
His voice grew sharper, each word cutting through the darkness like a blade. Birds took flight from the treetops, startled by the sheer intensity of his wrath.
"Even if you escape me now, I will find you. And I will kill you myself for what you've done! Your betrayal will be your end! I trusted you! We all did! And this is how you repay us?!"
His breath hitched as rage swelled within him, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession.
"We treated you like one of us—even when you were the weakest, the most useless in every mission! But you dared to betray us?! I should have killed you back then!"
His voice roared through the trees, the sheer force of it reverberating into the silence that followed. And yet, the woman he hunted—lying unconscious on the cold forest floor—could no longer hear him.
A pair of boots crunched against the dirt, followed by an impatient sigh.
"Javier! We have to go back! Just leave her. She's as good as dead with the injuries you gave her. Let's not waste our time."
The voice belonged to a woman—smooth yet edged with irritation. Her presence was unwavering, as if this situation was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
"No!" Javier snapped, his anger flaring once more. "I'll make sure to hunt her down and kill her tonight, no matter what it takes!"
The woman stepped closer, her lips curving into a knowing smirk.
"But, honey," she cooed, her fingers grazing his arm, "we have to prepare the troupe for tomorrow's mission. Everyone will throw a fit if we mess this up."
Javier clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. The frustration in his veins boiled hotter.
She exhaled sharply, amusement flickering in her eyes before they turned cold. Her smirk faded, and in its place, a sharp, commanding gaze took over. She didn't need to say another word—her eyes alone ordered him to obey.
His fingers twitched at his sides before he finally let out a frustrated exhale.
"Fine… but!" He turned back toward the trees, his voice cutting through the night like a curse. "If you can hear this, you damn bitch, even if you survive those injuries, I will find you, and I will kill you! I'll personally offer your head to Toro—the wild bear they keep as a pet at the base- He'll enjoy feasting on your corpse!"
With one last glare into the darkness, he spun on his heel and stormed off, the woman following close behind with an air of satisfaction.
The forest fell silent once more, but the threat lingered like a phantom in the air.
—
Tossing. Turning. Labored breathing.
Screams.
"Ahhh!!!"
The young lady bolted upright, her body drenched in sweat, her heart pounding wildly against her ribs. Pain flared through her limbs, and she winced. She wasn't in the forest anymore.
Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she frantically scanned her surroundings. The wooden ceiling above her creaked faintly, the dim light of a single bulb flickering from a rusty fixture. The room smelled faintly of herbs, alcohol, and something metallic—blood.
Her fingers twitched, gripping the thin blanket draped over her battered body. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain coursing through her limbs.
"I… I'm alive?"
Her mind struggled to piece together the last thing she remembered—the chase, the stabbing pain in her leg, Javier's furious voice echoing through the trees. His threats. His rage.
She tried to sit up, but the pain in her ribs flared like fire licking at her bones. A pained whimper escaped her lips, her vision momentarily blurring.
The door creaked open.
Instinct kicked in. Her muscles tensed despite the agony, and her fingers twitched toward her hip—where a weapon should have been. But there was nothing. She was defenseless.
A figure stepped into the dim light.
A man— maybe early 20's? Messy light brown hair fell over sharp, observant eyes. He carried a tray, his expression unreadable as he studied her.
"Oh! You're awake!"
She forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat. "Who… Where am I?" Her voice came out hoarse, her throat raw as if she had swallowed glass.
"Major! The kid's awake!" the soldier called over his shoulder, his voice laced with urgency.
Footsteps echoed against the sterile walls, firm and deliberate. The air inside the room was crisp, carrying the distinct scent of antiseptic and faint traces of metal. The soft hum of medical equipment buzzed in the background, blending with the faint murmurs of activity outside the door.
Then, a towering figure stepped in.
He was tall—very tall, probably around 6'5", with a strong, commanding build that left no doubt he was a soldier. His presence alone carried a quiet authority, like a man who had seen countless battles and lived to tell the tale. His short dark brown hair was neatly trimmed, military standard, and his sharp features were hardened by experience. Despite his imposing stature, his expression softened the moment his gaze met hers.
A reassuring smile.
"Hello." His deep voice, though firm, carried an unexpected gentleness. "I'm Major Gora. We found you while on patrol and brought you here to our base"
She said nothing at first, scanning her surroundings warily.
Soldiers.
She had been told before that they were dangerous. That they were the enemy. The mortal enemy.
Could she really trust them?
But… they had treated her injuries. Instead of harming her, they had saved her.
Maybe… maybe she could trust them.
No.
She had no choice but to trust them. She had no one else now.
Finally, she parted her lips, her voice barely above a whisper.
"…I-I'm… K-Kill…"
The room fell into stunned silence.
They looked surprised, as if expecting a different answer. Maybe they wanted to ask why she was given such a name. But they didn't.
Instead, Major Gora chuckled. "Heh. That's a cool name."
She blinked in surprise.
Cool?
That name wasn't meant to be cool. It wasn't given to her because she was a skilled fighter or because she had taken countless lives.
No.
She was Kill because they could kill her anytime. Because, to them, she was disposable.
Useless.
I didn't respond to the major and kept my head down. My fingers curled into the blanket as I trembled, the memories of what happened still fresh, still terrifying.
"You must still be exhausted." His voice was calm, understanding. "We're just glad you finally woke up after two weeks. Honestly, we thought you were dead." He let out a small chuckle, though there was no malice in it—only relief. "Just relax. We won't harm you, okay? Eat your dinner, rest, and we'll talk again tomorrow."
With a gentle pat on my head, he turned and walked out of the room.
I sat there in silence, staring at the closed door. Then, unable to hold it in, I curled up and let a few quiet sobs escape.
I'm safe… right?
My gaze shifted to the tray of food on the small table beside my bed. Hesitantly, I reached for it.
A single bite—warm, savory, comforting.
It's delicious.
—
The Next Day
The door creaked open, allowing a sliver of light to spill into the dimly lit room. The scent of antiseptic still lingered, mingling with the faint metallic tang of medical equipment. The quiet hum of voices outside drifted through the slightly ajar doorway, muffled by distance.
Steady footsteps approached.
Major Gora stepped inside, his towering frame casting a shadow over the bed. He wore the same calm expression as yesterday, the same soft smile that made him appear approachable despite his imposing stature. But this time, there was something different.
A heaviness in his gaze.
A certain weight in his posture.
He wasn't just here for a casual check-in.
He studied me for a moment before speaking, his deep voice even and measured.
"Are you… connected to an organization called MOON?"
My body stiffened.
A sharp, icy jolt shot down my spine, freezing me in place.
For a moment, I forgot to breathe.
The room felt smaller, the air heavier.
My breath hitched, and before I could stop myself, my body reacted—my face paled, my hands trembled, and hot tears welled up in my eyes.
Why…?
How did he know?
The air in the room felt heavy, almost suffocating. The walls, bare except for a small cabinet and a single chair in the corner, suddenly seemed to close in on me. My fingers curled into the blanket, gripping it tightly as if it were the only thing keeping me grounded.
"Jin…" the major continued, his voice steady but probing. "Do you know him?"
Jin?
My breath hitched.
My eyes widened, my pulse hammering against my ribs.
How… How did he know that name?
That name belonged to him.
Our leader.
One of the few people who had ever treated me like a human being. In that hellish camp, where names were stripped away and identities erased, Jin was my big brother. We weren't related by blood, but he had been the only warmth in a place filled with nothing but cold indifference.
But… Jin was dead.
Wasn't he?
He was killed during a mission. Then why was Major Gora asking about him?
My throat tightened, my body refusing to move.
Slowly, I forced myself to speak, though my voice was barely above a whisper.
"…How?" My voice barely came out.
"Oh, sorry… Please don't be scared." The major's voice remained calm, but his gaze was firm. "Look at this picture. This is Jin. Do you know him? We also rescued him. We found him drenched in blood and brought him here."
The world around me blurred as I stared at the photograph in the major's hand. My fingers twitched, aching to reach for it, to trace the familiar face captured in the image.
Jin…
That unmistakable red hair, those piercing golden eyes—sharp yet emotionless, just as I remembered. He had always carried that same unreadable expression, one that never wavered even in the face of danger.
He was the one who had protected us, the one who had taught us how to survive in that merciless camp.
The strongest among us.
The leader of MOON's deadliest troupe.
And yet…
He supposedly died.
So he was alive?
My breath came out uneven as my chest tightened. Was it relief? Fear? I didn't know.
The major, still watching me closely, let out a small chuckle, his warm smile contrasting the heavy atmosphere. It was as if he had found his answer just by observing my reaction.
"So, you do know him."
His words weren't a question. They were a statement. A confirmation.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry.
Jin… was alive.
"Don't worry, he's safe," he assured me. "I know you're still confused and recovering, but we need to understand what happened to you so we can help. And as you may already know, this is an army camp. I can't disclose our full mission, but you need to understand—it involves the organization called MOON."
My breath hitched.
"We need your cooperation," he continued. "And if you do… you can see Jin after."
My mind spun.
See Jin?
I wanted to believe him. But could I?
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I was powerless. I had nothing. No one.
For now… I had no choice but to trust him.
The realization hit me like a weight on my chest, but I pushed it down. I had to stay strong. I had to survive.
I had to find Jin.
"Can you tell me what happened to you, Kill?"
I took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage I had left, and met the major's eyes.
"I will tell you my story," I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. "But promise me… that I can meet Jin after I get better."
The major smiled, placing a reassuring hand on my head.