✉️ ─ unrꫀaℓ
. . . 〈 엑스디너리 히어로즈 ─ 𝗢𝗗𝗘𝗛𝗔𝗡 〉
✦ 〝 as darkness surrounds me, I can still taste the metallic flavor of my own blood. 〞
## After a disturbingly vivid dream, 𝗛𝘆𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗷𝘂𝗻's grip on reality begins to fracture. As the line between...
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Hyeongjun shot up suddenly, gasping for breath as if he had been underwater for hours. His head spun, and for a moment, he feared his heart had stopped beating altogether. He quickly pressed a clammy hand to his chest, feeling his heart hammering against his ribcage, almost as if it were trying to break free. His throat was dry, his face flushed and drenched in sweat, while his eyes darted frantically around the room, trying to make sense of his surroundings.
As he surveyed the room, Hyeongjun realized that he was in his own bedroom. There was no forest, no branches, no leaves, no fox. The familiar comfort of the walls and objects around him clashed starkly with the emotional chaos churning within him. Instinctively, he threw off the covers and checked to ensure his leg wasn't broken. It tingled, but he could move it without issue.
He leaned his head back, exhaling a tense sigh as he ran a hand through his damp hair. He remained in that position for a few seconds, trying to calm his racing heart, before casting a quick glance at the digital clock on his bedside table. 3:37. Hyeongjun frowned at the time in frustration before collapsing back onto his pillow, pulling his tingling leg to his chest and hugging it tightly.
He kept his eyes half-open, battling the exhaustion that tried to force them closed. But Hyeongjun was afraid to fall sleep again.
Yet, sleep eventually overtook him, and the next thing he heard was the annoying, repetitive sound of his alarm. He struggled to open his eyes, not even remembering when he had closed them, and immediately focused on the clock in front of him: 6:31. Instinctively, he stretched out his arms and legs, trying to shake off the lingering grogginess, and letting out a small groan as he straightened up.
He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, or perhaps at nothing at all. He remained there for what felt like five minutes, as fragments of his dream returned to him in a disjointed blur. The weight on his chest resurfaced, his thoughts grew foggy, and his throat tightened, making it hard to breathe. Squinting his eyes, Hyeongjun bolted upright, both hands instinctively clutching the left side of his chest, reassuring himself that yes, he was still alive.
He shook his head a couple of times, breathing heavily, his face tense, as if he couldn't understand what had come over him. He quickly tossed aside the covers and leapt out of bed, hesitating for a second as his bare feet touched the cold floor. He followed the sharp scent of coffee to the kitchen, his vision still blurred and his legs barely holding him up—perhaps due to lingering sleep, or perhaps due to the fear that still gripped him.
"You're up late this morning, huh?" Hyeongjun looked up with a frown at his brother, who was busy gathering his things scattered around the room. He mumbled an indistinct reply, slumping heavily into the nearest chair, tiredly resting his elbows on the table and propping his chin on his hands. His brother watched him with concern as he approached, instinctively clearing some items from the table that Hyeongjun hadn't even noticed, making room for him.
