Yoongi has always spent most of his waking hours searching for the Dome : a vast city, bright and shining on the horizon -- should be easy to spot, no? No. Time is falling short; he and Kookie are growing weaker; resources are dwindling. Yoongi is d...
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"Jin! Stop the craft!" Taehyung cried out. The older, having seemingly been put on autopilot, hadn't quite grasped what the other meant. Instead, he took his hand off the loose thread of the carpeted dash he'd been toying with.
Taehyung was frantic, messing around with all sorts of equipment. He only began to panic further as images began to reach the edge of his monitors.
"Stop the craft! Now!" and so Jimin did, slipping from beneath the dashboard. He pulled his hyung's hands off the controls before the aircraft could venture any further.
Taehyung had his eyes glued intently to a specific monitor. It detected heat; an incredibly precise radar, highly sensitive to subtle differences. This tool was often dismissed for more efficient motion detectors. Had the crew not put such a stickler for details on the monitors, they probably would've passed over the area without missing a beat.
Jimin's eyes bulged from his head, stuck on the same monitor as Taehyung, hands still keeping the craft static. The ruckus had already captured the attention of all troop members, even Jin who seemed more focused than ever, now awake.
A gasp was heard from behind, undoubtedly Hoseok: "No way..."
"Way..." Taehyung brought a single finger up to the monitor, dragging it idly to form a silhouette. A hardly visible outline of two bodies huddled together laid in the middle of the screen. "One, two, three, four legs," the boy marked every limb with a short line, exhibiting two bodies, interlaced. "One, two, three arms."
The team stood like that for a long while, all huddled in the cockpit, staring awestruck at the monitor. It wasn't until the leader brought a fist up and paused did the weight of their situation hit them.
They had found people.
Namjoon brought his fist down heavily, slamming it against a bright red button. Blaring sirens automatically filled the air, the button programmed to activate the ones at headquarters as well. They would be notified of BTS's find and waiting for their intercom as soon as the survivors were brought on board and assessed.
The troop scattered to their lockers. Each member had one in a separate corner of the main room, forming a pentagonal shape. Helmets were soon pulled on, hefty strap clipped tightly under the chin alongside oxygen masks. The band of one snapped against Namjoon's neck, earning itself a quick yelp in return. A medical pack was slung across three of their chests as Hoseok and Jin picked up the pallets to load the survivors.
Namjoon stepped to the center of the room, bending down, hand gripping tightly at a sturdy titanium lever.
"We ready?" he muffled through the rubber of his mask. Most nodded as Jin pulled his own mask down, one hand holding the pallet.
"Ready as I'll ever be," he slipped it back up in record time as Namjoon heaved the lever backward. All five of their hearts were beating at unhealthy rates as a few ropes slipped from between the aircraft casings. The princes were met with the whirling grey sand they'd soon make contact with.
