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Hyunjin steps forward.
"I can't believe that the traitor is you!"
The traitor pales, refusing to look the older in the eyes as he adjusts his hat slightly.
"Well, I, uh..." He falters, unable to come up with an excuse.
"That's it," Hyunjin states. "I'm telling Chan, and you can be thrown out of the airlock like Minho wanted to do! No wonder he doesn't trust you with his cat, I wouldn't trust you with anything."
Jisung's eyes widen, and he frantically shakes his hands.
"No, Hyung, please don't," he pleads desperately. "I don't want to die."
"Well, you should have thought about that before you decided it was a good idea to kill everyone!" the red rages, making to leave the room.
The blond takes a nervous breath, knowing that he has to tell Hyunjin why.
"Would you believe me if I told you that I'm being controlled?"
Hyunjin halts in his tracks.
"You're what?" he spits.
"Being controlled," he repeats timidly, as the dark-haired boy narrows his eyes.
"By the corruption?" he asks.
Jisung nods. "It's sort of a voice in my head, telling me what to do," he explains. "It tells me to, you know, be evil, but I don't want to be evil - I want to have friends, not kill them."
Understandably, Hyunjin is a little confused, but then again, this happened to the Mira mission too, so the Skeld was always likely to be susceptible to a corruption.
"I still think I should - "
"No," Jisung interrupts. "You won't tell anyone, Hwang, or you'll be dead straight away."
Hyunjin slightly flinches at the death threat, and nods once, too scared to speak.
Realising what he's just said, Jisung tries to apologise. "Hyunjin, I - "
"Forget it Jisung," the red says, turning away. "I won't tell anyone."
And with that he leaves through the east corridor.
The orange exhales, glancing at the still open vent.
Don't forget, the voice in his head murmurs, you have a job to do.
A job I don't want to do, Jisung bites back.
But a job you must do, the voice insists.
Jisung slips his hand inside the vent, compelled by the voice to take a weapon. His fingers brush over the hilt of a small knife which he withdraws, hastily stashing it in his below-the-knee pocket, before quietly closing the vent and rushing back to storage. Just in time too; Minho enters just as the younger is closing the wires panel, appearing to have completed the task.
