The Black rose (Minsung ff)

The devil wears red

Ticktock. Ticktock.

Minho could hear every second pass by, the steady rhythm echoing in his mind, a reminder that time was running out. Operation Ivy was about to begin, and in less than thirty minutes, the virus would be spread in The world. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, the leather creaking under the pressure of his hold as he sped down the dark, deserted roads leading to the warehouse.

His mind was clouded with thoughts of Jisung, of the future he had meticulously crafted in his head—where Jisung would be his forever. Minho tried to ignore the pangs of guilt that gnawed at him, the fleeting moments of doubt that whispered he was wrong. But as always, the stronger voice, the one that had taken root in his heart, drowned out everything else. He needed to do this. For control. For love. For Jisung.

The headlights of his car illuminated the enormous, looming structure of the warehouse as he approached it. Armed guards stood by, saluting as he pulled up to the entrance. Minho barely acknowledged them as he stepped out of the car, his gaze locked on the large steel doors that would lead him to the 7,000 people inside.

A full-body protective suit was handed to him before he entered. He took it without a word, the heavy fabric and helmet designed to protect him from the virus. It felt suffocating, but it was a necessity. As he zipped it up and secured the helmet, he steeled himself. No time for weakness. This was part of the plan, part of the grand design that would ensure his control over everything—and everyone.

Once suited up, Minho entered the warehouse. The air inside was heavy with tension, the sterile lights flickering overhead casting eerie shadows across the vast space. Rows upon rows of people were strapped down to medical chairs, their faces blank, unaware of the terror about to be unleashed upon them. The Guards in similar suits moved between the rows, preparing syringes filled with the virus. Each syringe contained the means to incapacitate the world, one victim at a time.

Minho's footsteps echoed as he walked toward the head technician, who stood by a console, overseeing the injections. The technician, a tall man with cold eyes barely visible through his visor, turned to him and gave a curt nod.

"Everything is prepared, sir. We're ready to begin the injections," the guard said, his voice muffled but clear through the communication device in the helmet.

"Good," Minho replied, his voice calm and unwavering. "Begin."

The process started immediately. The quiet of the warehouse was soon punctuated by the soft hisses of syringes plunging into flesh, the needles delivering the deadly virus into the veins of the unsuspecting. Minho watched it all unfold from a distance, his eyes cold and emotionless. There was no turning back now.

The virus was designed to be fast-acting. Within hours, the infected would begin to feel the first symptoms—weakness, muscle pain, and an excruciating ache in their bones. It would spread quickly, and soon enough, panic would set in. Then, the Black Rose would step in with the antidote. With the chips. With control.

His control.

The minutes ticked by as the injections continued, each second feeling like an eternity. Minho couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of anticipation and dread. He had meticulously planned for this, but there was always a sliver of fear. Not of the virus, or the operation itself—but of what would come after.

Of Jisung.

Once this was done, Minho would return home. He would take that syringe, the one labeled "chip," and inject it into Jisung's body. He had convinced himself that it was necessary, that this was the only way to keep him safe, to keep him by his side. But deep down, he hated himself for it. The man he had become—obsessive, controlling, dangerous—was not the man he wanted to be. But there was no going back now.

He had to finish what he started.

"Sir, all 7,000 have been injected," the technician said, pulling Minho from his thoughts.Minho nodded. "Release them."

Without hesitation, the Guards began to unstrap the newly infected individuals, one by one. They were herded toward the large metal doors at the back of the warehouse, where vehicles were waiting to transport them to various locations. They would walk among the public, spreading the virus with every breath, every touch. And by the time anyone realized what was happening, it would be too late.

Minho stood by the exit, watching as the first few individuals were released into the world. They moved like puppets, unaware of the destruction they would cause. As the last one was loaded into the vehicle, Minho turned and headed back to the exit.

He tore off the suit as soon as he was out, letting the cold night air hit his skin. He felt filthy, like the weight of everything he had done clung to him like a second layer of skin. His mind was racing, thoughts colliding with one another as he climbed back into the car and slammed the door shut.

Twenty-eight hours. That was how long it would take for the virus to spread before the antidote—along with the chips—would be released to the public. Twenty-eight hours before the Black Rose would announce themselves as the saviors, the ones who had the cure to the plague they had released.

And in less than an hour, Jisung would have the chip.

Minho's hands clenched the steering wheel as he drove, his knuckles turning white. He had to do it. He had to. But no matter how many times he told himself that, the guilt gnawed at him.
He felt a lump rise in his throat as the image of Jisung's tear-streaked face flashed in his mind. Jisung had been through so much, and Minho had only made it worse. But the chip—it would ensure that Jisung could never leave him. That he would never be alone again."He doesn't love me," Minho muttered under his breath. "Not the way I love him. He's afraid of me. But with the chip..."

The thought sickened him, but it was the truth. The chip would allow him to control Jisung—his mind, his body. Every part of him would belong to Minho. And while he despised the idea of forcing someone to love him, he couldn't bear the thought of losing Jisung. Ever.

The drive back to the Black Rose mansion felt like a blur, the city lights passing by in streaks as Minho's mind wrestled with itself. By the time he pulled into the driveway, the decision had been made. There was no turning back now.

He parked the car and got out, his steps heavy as he made his way inside. The mansion was quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the air conditioning as it circulated through the halls. Minho's heart pounded in his chest as he made his way to his study.

The case was still where he had left it, locked and hidden away. His hands Trembled for the first time, He was..scared? he opened the vault and retrieved the small black case. Inside were two syringes—one containing the chip, the other a sedative.

His fingers traced the edges of the syringes, the cold glass sending a chill up his spine.

"I don't want to hurt him," Minho whispered to himself. "But I have to. He'll be mine... forever."With a deep breath, Minho closed the case and locked it again. He needed to calm down, to clear his mind before he faced Jisung. He couldn't afford to be reckless now.

As he left the study, his guards fell into step behind him, but Minho barely acknowledged them. His mind was consumed with thoughts of what was to come.

He needed to be with Jisung. To feel his warmth, his love—even if it was a love that Minho had to take by force.

He had to go tell the younger now, It was time.