Namjin Oneshots

Chapter 14: The Crossroads

The SUV sped through the night, each mile feeling heavier than the last. Seokjin’s heart was racing, his mind spinning with confusion and doubt. His father’s life was on the line, and despite everything, he couldn’t deny the bond that still lingered. The man who had raised him was now being hunted by the very people he had worked with for years, and Seokjin had the power to intervene—yet, should he?

Namjoon kept his eyes fixed on the road, the tension between them thickening as they drove deeper into the woods. Finally, he broke the silence.

"You’re thinking about going after him, aren’t you?"

Seokjin didn’t respond right away, his throat dry. He had been trying to find an answer within himself, but it kept slipping through his fingers like smoke.

"I don’t know," he finally admitted. "I know what he’s done is unforgivable, but… he’s still my father, Namjoon. I can’t just let them kill him without trying to stop it."

Namjoon’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. "You understand what he’s responsible for, right? He’s been behind Project Atlas from the start. Countless lives have been ruined because of him. He’s not the man you thought he was."

"I know that," Seokjin said quickly, his voice tinged with frustration. "But I also know that if they kill him, all the answers die with him. We need him alive if we want to take down the whole operation. He’s the key to unraveling the rest of it."

Yoongi, who had been silent up until now, turned in his seat. "Seokjin’s right. If they erase your father, the rest of the people involved will go underground. We’ll lose any chance we have of exposing the full scope of Project Atlas."

Namjoon let out a deep breath, his jaw tense. "And what if we don’t get to him in time? You realize what kind of people we’re dealing with. If they see us coming, they’ll do everything in their power to make sure none of us leave alive."

Seokjin’s chest tightened with anxiety, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that saving his father—if only to expose him fully—was the right thing to do. He had to believe there was still a way to stop all of this without more death.

"I’m not asking you to put yourself at risk for him," Seokjin said, his voice soft but determined. "But I can’t walk away from this. If there’s even a chance to stop them, to get the truth out, I have to try."

Namjoon sighed heavily, glancing at Yoongi, who gave him a small nod. After a moment of silence, Namjoon finally spoke, his tone resigned but resolute.

"Fine. We go after him. But if this goes sideways, we pull out. No heroics, no second-guessing. We can’t afford to lose everything we’ve worked for."

Seokjin nodded, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and hope. "Thank you."

Yoongi’s eyes flickered with something unreadable as he tapped on his laptop, pulling up a map of the area. "I’ve got a lead on where they might take him. There’s an abandoned estate not far from here, about a 20-minute drive. It used to belong to one of the old families that funded the original experiments for Project Atlas. If they’re going to erase him quietly, that’s where they’ll do it."

"How do we know for sure he’ll be there?" Namjoon asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

"We don’t," Yoongi replied. "But it’s the best shot we have right now."

Namjoon nodded, shifting the SUV into gear and taking a sharp turn off the main road, heading deeper into the forest. The landscape became more desolate, the trees denser, as they closed in on the location Yoongi had pulled up.

Seokjin’s stomach twisted with every passing second. He couldn’t help but think about his father—what he had done, the lies he had told, the suffering he had caused. But despite all of that, a part of Seokjin still wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, his father could give them the answers they needed. Answers that could finally put an end to the nightmare.

They approached the estate, a crumbling mansion hidden deep in the woods, its gothic architecture looming against the moonlit sky like something out of a nightmare. The SUV slowed to a crawl as Namjoon cut the lights, guiding the vehicle off the main path and into the cover of the trees. They parked a distance away, keeping the mansion in sight but out of view.

Yoongi pulled out a pair of binoculars, scanning the perimeter. "Looks quiet. Too quiet."

Namjoon gripped his gun, checking the magazine before glancing at Seokjin. "You ready for this?"

Seokjin nodded, though his hands were shaking. "I don’t think I’ll ever be ready, but let’s go."

They moved as quietly as possible, slipping through the shadows toward the mansion. The silence was oppressive, the only sound the occasional rustle of leaves beneath their feet. The air was cold, sharp with the scent of decaying wood and damp earth.

As they approached the mansion, Seokjin’s heart pounded louder in his chest. They had no idea what to expect inside—whether his father was still alive, or if the people sent to kill him were already waiting.

Yoongi led them to a side entrance, the door partially ajar. "Looks like we’re expected," he muttered under his breath.

Namjoon held up a hand, signaling them to stop. He peered inside, his gun raised. "Stay close. We don’t know what we’re walking into."

They entered the mansion cautiously, the dark, decaying interior swallowing them in shadows. The walls were lined with old portraits, their faces faded and eerie in the dim light. Dust clung to every surface, and the air was thick with the smell of mildew.

Seokjin’s pulse quickened as they moved deeper into the mansion, the silence pressing in on all sides. Every creak of the floorboards beneath their feet sent a spike of adrenaline through him, and the further they ventured, the more the dread gnawed at his insides.

Suddenly, Yoongi froze, holding up a hand. "Wait."

Namjoon and Seokjin halted immediately, straining to hear what had caught Yoongi’s attention. In the distance, faint voices echoed through the halls—low, menacing, and unmistakably close.

"They’re here," Yoongi whispered. "And so is your father."

Seokjin’s heart skipped a beat. The time had come. This was their only chance to get him out, to stop whatever execution was planned. But they had to move fast.

Namjoon motioned for them to follow, leading the way down a narrow corridor toward the source of the voices. They stopped just outside a large, heavy door that was slightly ajar. The voices were clearer now—Seokjin could make out the cold, commanding tone of one man, and the desperate, broken voice of another.

It was his father.

Namjoon peered through the crack in the door, his body tense. He turned to Seokjin, his expression grim. "It’s him. And they’re about to make their move."

Seokjin’s heart raced, his mind screaming with indecision. Could he really save his father, after everything that had happened? Or was this a mistake that could cost them everything?

Namjoon’s hand tightened on his gun, his voice low and urgent. "Seokjin, we don’t have much time. What do you want to do?"

Seokjin swallowed hard, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. His father’s life hung in the balance, and the next move was his.

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