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Your gaze flickered to the door, your mind running through the possibilities.

I can argue, insist on going with them, but it wouldn't do any good.

They needed you to stay out of sight, and you knew it. Still, the idea of being stuck here, alone and waiting, gnawed at you.

"Just be careful," you pleaded, finally, your voice more fragile than you meant it to be. You hated feeling like the one left behind, like the weakest link. But there was nothing you could do but trust them—and trust yourself to stay out of trouble while they were gone.

Hoseok grabbed the bag slung across the back of the chair, checking its contents one more time. "We'll make it quick. It's not like the city's crawling with friendly faces right now." He offered a brief, crooked smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Don't go getting any ideas while we're gone."

Jungkook gave a small reassuring nod in your direction before heading for the door. "We'll be back soon, y/n. Don't worry."

With that, the two of them disappeared out the door, their steps swallowed by the silence of the empty room. You stood there for a moment, your hand still gripping the edge of the table as you waited for the sound of their footsteps to fade completely.

The safe house was quiet, the air still and heavy, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. You looked out the window, your gaze fixed on the city sprawled out below.

The people moved like marionettes, caught in the pull of invisible strings, and you wondered how many of them were trapped by the very thing that had taken so much from you. The RM tech. The biochips that had been sold as the future of society. A future that was nothing more than a cage, a leash with no way to break free.

You leaned your forehead against the cool glass, a deep breath slipping past your lips. Rage bubbled up, slow and quiet but suffocating, like a storm building in the distance.

How many lives had been twisted, bent to OmniCorp's will? How many people had been broken by a system?

That was when you knew what you had to do. You had to fight back.
But dismantling the tech? It wasn't something that could be done overnight. You wasn't stupid enough to think you could just waltz in and pull the plug. The network was too vast, too tightly woven into every aspect of society. Taking it down would mean exposing yourself, risking everything you'd worked for and everyone you cared about.

A small sigh escaped your lips as you pushed away from the window, your fingers gripping the edge of the sill as if it might anchor you to something solid.

They took too much. Too many lives. But they aren't going to take any more. Not while I'm still standing.

The sudden ring of the doorbell sliced through the quiet, sharp and unexpected. You froze, instinctively you eyes darted to the security monitor by the door. Your chest tightened as you saw the figure standing just beyond the threshold—Jungkook. He was leaning slightly against the doorframe, looking pale, his face drawn in a way that didn't sit right. His posture was stiff, as though every movement hurt him more than he was willing to admit.

A frown tugged at your lips.

Why didn't he just use his retina scan to unlock the door?

The logical part of your mind told you it was probably due to his injury, but something about the way he stood there, with his head down and shoulders slumped, set off a quiet alarm in your chest.

You moved toward the door, opening it with a soft creak. The air between you felt charged, heavy with an undercurrent you couldn't quite place. Without a word, you reached out to support him as he stepped inside. His body felt too fragile under your touch, but you didn't comment on it.

"Are you alright?" Your voice was quieter than usual, the question carrying more weight than you intended.

Jungkook's eyes flickered up to meet yours, exhausted and impatient. "I'm fine," he muttered, the words clipped.

"Where's Hoseok?" Your brow furrowed. "You should let him check your wound. You look like you're about to collapse."

Jungkook shook his head, his hand pushing against you as if to distance himself. "There's no time. Hoseok's taking longer than expected. We need to move now. I'll send him the coordinates later."

You blinked, taken aback by the sharpness in his tone.

Something's off.

You could see the tension in his jaw, the slight tremble in his hands. It wasn't just pain—there was something more.

"Jungkook—" you started, but he cut you off, his eyes flashing with something like annoyance.

"We don't have the luxury of waiting," he snapped, a little too quickly. "Just get your things. We leave now."

Your suspicion deepened. You stepped closer, your gaze flicking down to where his shirt had ridden up slightly, the edge of a bandage visible at his side. "Let me see it," you said, your voice firm now, no longer willing to let him brush you off so easily.

Before you could reach for him, he shoved your hand away, the motion sudden and hard, almost desperate. His breath caught, his face pale with exertion. "I said, there's no time," he repeated. The panic that slipped into his voice made your stomach twist.

The way he said it, the way his words were strained, didn't sit right. You froze, staring at him for a long moment, your mind racing. You watched the way his eyes shifted, darting around the room like he was calculating his next move. You instincts screamed that something wasn't just wrong—it was dangerous.

He isn't just injured. He's hiding something.

You two moved quickly, the heavy silence between you pressing down harder as you stepped out of the apartment. Jungkook's pace was too fast, too controlled, as though he was trying to outrun something—or someone. His earlier vulnerability was gone, replaced by a cold, mechanical sharpness in his movements. Every inch of him was different, more distant, like the person you had known had somehow slipped away, leaving only a shell behind.

You kept a careful distance, your eyes studying him as you walked. The way his shoulders didn't slump anymore, how he kept his gaze straight ahead, unflinching. The way he responded to your questions with a tone that was just a shade too harsh. It was all wrong.
The more you watched, the more something gnawed at you.

This isn't him. This is someone else wearing his face.

You had to be sure. Your heart pounded as an idea formed, a simple question that could cut through the web of uncertainty, a question that only the real Jungkook would understand. You slowed your step slightly, letting the distance between you widen just enough to make the question feel casual, natural.

"Hey," you began, keeping your voice light, almost teasing. "Remind me—what was the name of the bakery we had sandwiches from that first night at the hideout?"

The question hung between you, the memory of that night, the laughter you'd shared over simple food, an unspoken connection formed between you.

It should mean something to him.

Jungkook's response came without hesitation, too quick, too dismissive. "I don't remember. What does it even matter?"

The words fell flat in the air, hollow, without weight.

He doesn't remember. He doesn't care.

Your breath caught in your chest, your pulse stuttering.

That's impossible.

Your heart picked up its pace, each beat harder than the last. That night hadn't just been a passing moment—it had been important to both of you. The quiet conversations, the way your walls had crumbled around each other for just a little while. But he didn't remember.

Your stomach churned as the realization hit you, cold and sharp.

It's happening again.

The RM tech was in your head, twisting the truth, clouding your thoughts, forcing you to see what wasn't real.

You glanced sideways at Jungkook, you mouth dry. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run, to leave. To get away from this thing that wasn't him, that couldn't be him.

You hands clenched into fists at your sides, the tremor in your fingers barely noticeable, but your mind was a whirlwind.

I need to flee. Now.

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