The walls of the safe house trembled as Karina’s fist slammed against them, the dull thud echoing through the tense silence.

Her knuckles were already raw, the sting a distant hum beneath the burning rage that consumed her.

She turned sharply, her eyes locked on Yuna, the fury radiating off her in visible waves.

"Why?!" she barked, her voice hoarse and strained, barely above a growl. “I am your leader. You follow my orders. You don't just—just leave someone behind!”

Yuna swallowed hard, her lips pressed into a thin, pale line. But she didn’t answer, her gaze fixed on the floor, her silence a heavy accusation.

Across the room, Ningning winced as she cleaned her leg, her movements careful, her expression stoic as she bit back a hiss of pain. The air was thick, suffocating, charged with unspoken blame and simmering resentment.

Then the door burst open, the sound a sharp, violent intrusion.

Yeji strode in, her team trailing behind her like silent shadows. Her gaze was sharp and assessing, her movements precise, her presence a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil that filled the room.

She didn’t hesitate, her voice calm but firm, cutting through the suffocating tension.

“Shin,” she said evenly, her tone brooking no argument, "Dismissed."

Yuna hesitated, glancing between them, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and apprehension, before silently stepping out, the door clicking softly behind her.

But Karina’s fury didn’t diminish, her rage a volatile force threatening to erupt.

She turned to Yeji, her eyes blazing with anger. “Stay out of my team.”

Yeji's expression didn’t shift, her gaze unwavering, her posture radiating a quiet strength. "Your team is compromised."

"Don't give me that," Karina snapped, her voice laced with bitter accusation, her hands shaking with barely controlled rage.

Yeji inhaled slowly, her arms crossing over her chest, her stance firm and unwavering, her eyes locking with Karina's. "Then get a grip."

Karina stepped forward, her eyes wild, burning with a desperate intensity. “You don’t get it.”

Yeji didn’t move, her body a solid wall, her voice low and firm. “No, Yu. You don’t get it.”

A beat of silence hung in the air, heavy and pregnant with unspoken words. Then—

"Why are you acting like this?" Yeji's voice was soft but sharp, a subtle challenge that made Karina’s temper flare.

Karina’s jaw clenched, her hands shaking, the tremors running through her body as she struggled to contain the storm within.

Yeji pushed forward, her steps measured and deliberate, her eyes fixed on Karina with a gaze that was both challenging and assessing. “We've been trying to get back to the site, but it's crawling with reinforcements. We can't just charge in blind.”

Karina didn’t care, her rationality overridden by the fear and rage that gripped her. “Then we hurry. Or I'll go myself.”

Yeji's eyes narrowed, her voice laced with a subtle warning, her posture hardening. "With who? Ningning is out of commission, Yuna is barely keeping it together. You think you can do this alone?"

Karina said nothing, her silence a clear indication of her desperation and her refusal to acknowledge the precariousness of the situation.

Yeji stepped closer, her gaze locked with Karina's, her voice low but intense, her words a quiet challenge. "Trust them. Okay?”

Karina’s fingers twitched, her body coiled tight, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Her next breath was sharp, her body vibrating with tension. She grabbed Yeji’s collar, pulling her in, dangerously close, her eyes burning with a desperate intensity. “If Winter is—”

Yeji’s face didn’t flinch, her gaze unwavering, her voice cutting through Karina’s words, silencing her with a calm authority.

"You can't."

Karina’s eyes flashed, her jaw tight, her grip tightening on Yeji's collar. “What?”

Yeji's voice was calm, unwavering, her gaze fixed on Karina's, a quiet finality in her tone.

"Whatever you're hoping for, Yu—" she said, her words laced with a subtle warning. "It's crossing the line."

And with that, she shoved Karina back, her hand releasing its grip, the force surprisingly strong.

The force wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Enough to leave Karina standing there, breathless, her fists trembling, her mind spiraling into a chaotic mix of anger, fear, and confusion.

Yeji didn’t say another word, her gaze lingering on Karina for a brief moment before she turned and walked out, leaving Karina behind—alone with her anger, her fear, and the growing realization of her own internal conflict.

The rooftop was silent, save for the sound of Karina’s ragged breathing, the only sound that broke the eerie stillness.

She stood at the edge, her fingers gripping the icy railing with a desperate intensity, as if it was the only thing that was keeping her upright, the early morning air biting into her skin, the cold unable to penetrate the fire that burned inside her.

Yeji’s words echoed in her head, a constant, taunting reminder of the line she had almost crossed.

"You can't."

Her breath came out hard, uneven, shaking, a silent struggle against the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume her.

She blinked rapidly, but the blur in her vision didn't clear. It wasn't from exhaustion, not from the biting cold, but from a different kind of ache, a feeling she refused to acknowledge, a truth she desperately wanted to deny.

She was angry, a burning rage that threatened to overwhelm her.

At Yeji for her blunt truth. At herself for her recklessness. At the situation, for throwing everything off balance.

She had always known, always kept herself in check, her emotions carefully contained beneath a layer of disciplined control. She wasn't reckless, never had been. But somewhere along the way, she slipped, her carefully constructed walls beginning to crumble.

At first, Winter had been nothing more than an entitled, sharp-tongued brat, overconfident and eager to prove herself. Karina had seen plenty of recruits like her—kids who thought they had something to prove, young and inexperienced, naive and reckless.

But then, Winter didn't break.

Not during the grueling training sessions. Not even under Karina's harshest tests, her most difficult challenges.

She pushed back, fought back, meeting every test with an unwavering determination that made Karina’s carefully maintained control feel threatened.

And Karina… felt challenged, her competitive nature awakened in a way she hadn't expected.

Then, one day, Winter beat her, her victory a bitter pill to swallow, a turning point in their carefully guarded relationship.

And Karina had felt something else entirely, a strange mix of frustration, admiration, and a flicker of something else—something she buried deep within her heart, something she refused to name, a seed of emotion she tried to ignore.

It shouldn't have mattered, she was her leader, she needed to keep herself in check. She knew better than to let personal feelings cloud her judgment, her carefully controlled emotions.

But now?

It might not matter at all, the reality of what could have happened making her carefully constructed world feel as though it had come crashing down.

Her fingers dug into the icy railing, the cold biting into her skin as she forced herself to breathe, her chest heaving with the effort. She wiped her face roughly, erasing the evidence of her brief moment of weakness, forcing her mask of composure back into place.

Then—a sound, subtle but distinct, broke through the silence of the rooftop.

Footsteps, light but measured.

She turned sharply, her muscles tense, her hand automatically going for her weapon, only to find Yuna standing a few feet away, her posture stiff, her face unreadable.

Karina exhaled, her posture relaxing, her mask slipping back into place, the emotions carefully hidden beneath a layer of cold detachment.

Yuna hesitated, her gaze fixed on Karina, before stepping forward, her posture now that of a soldier, not a friend.

"I apologize for disobeying orders, Lieutenant," she said formally, her voice steady, her tone devoid of any emotion, her posture stiff and unyielding, her respect evident in her salute.

Karina stared at her, her expression blank, her mind still racing.

For a long moment, she said nothing, her gaze distant, her mind consumed by her own internal conflict.

Then, she exhaled, turning away, her silence a tacit dismissal, a clear indication of her refusal to engage in further discussion.

And she left, her footsteps echoing on the rooftop as she disappeared, leaving behind Yuna, standing alone on the rooftop, her gaze fixed on Karina’s retreating figure, her silence a heavy weight hanging in the air.