The Promised Blade ✧ Min Yoongi

𝐓 𝐖 𝐄 𝐍 𝐓 𝐘 - 𝐒 𝐄 𝐕 𝐄 𝐍

CHAPTER 27 | VOICELESS WHISPER

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YOU

As he stormed out of the room, the door shuddering in its frame behind him, Hoseok's rage clung to the air like smoke after a fire—hot, bitter, and suffocating. Each of his footsteps pounded into the floor with the weight of thunder, as though the sheer force of his fury could crack the earth beneath him. I stood frozen in place, the silence he left behind so absolute that it rang in my ears, broken only by the sound of my own heartbeat thudding in my chest. Yet even in his absence, his words echoed on—a sharp, reverberating toll in my mind like the clanging of a warning bell I couldn't escape, no matter how tightly I shut my eyes.

His reaction replayed with cruel clarity, a film looping again and again in my head. I remembered the exact moment I told him about the woman—the unknown figure who had appeared without reason or name. His eyes had snapped to mine, wide and searching, pupils dilating as disbelief surged through him. It wasn't just surprise. No—there was something deeper there, something primal and raw that flickered across his face like a shadow too quick to name. For that split second, everything froze around us. It was like time had suspended its march forward, as though the universe itself had paused to watch that one crucial moment unfold. A buried recognition had flickered in him, something ancient and long-repressed rising like a serpent from the depths.

But then, just as swiftly as it had surfaced, it vanished. The confusion drained from his features, replaced by a sudden coldness, an almost mechanical shutting down. His jaw clenched, his shoulders squared, and his eyes narrowed—not with fear or wonder, but with a glacial denial that settled over him like armor. All warmth, all humanity seemed to withdraw behind a mask of disbelief. He refused to entertain a single word further, as if acknowledging it might set something irreversibly in motion.

Absolute. Unyielding. Denial.

And it wasn't just Hoseok. Lately, everyone I came across seemed... off. As if their souls had been nudged ever so slightly out of alignment. They smiled with empty eyes. They spoke, but their voices carried a hollow echo. Something within them had shifted—subtly, insidiously, like a compass needle nudged just off true north. A change no one else acknowledged, yet I could feel it in my bones. The air around me had grown heavier, thick with an invisible pressure, like the moment before a storm breaks. Maybe it wasn't just them. Maybe the change had already reached me, threading through my mind like a crack in a mirror that keeps widening no matter how still you stand.

I had tried to reach him. God, I had tried so hard to make him understand. To explain what I'd seen, what I knew, what I felt down in the marrow of my being. My voice had trembled with urgency, my words spilling out in frantic bursts as I clung to the truth like a lifeline. I wasn't lying—I knew I wasn't. The weight of it sat too heavily on my chest, too deeply rooted to be fabricated. But Hoseok wouldn't listen. He hadn't even tried.

It was as though his mind had long since constructed walls against truths that didn't fit neatly into his world. Thick, impenetrable walls built stone by stone over time, made to protect him—or imprison him. Walls so high that nothing I said could ever climb over them. Truth, to him, was a threat. A fracture in the illusion he'd worked so hard to preserve. And instead of reaching for me, instead of trying to understand—he turned away. Locked the gate. Sealed the door.

And just like that, I was on the outside. Alone.

"There are things that no human—especially not you—should know," he had snarled, his voice thick with barely restrained rage. His eyes, dark and unforgiving, bore into mine like he was willing me to retreat from the path I was on. "You tread on dangerous waters, Y/N. And not all things are meant to be sailed through."