TARGET

마흔 하나

The tranquility of the mellow night made it seem as if the entirety of the crusade was mere fiction.

Wonwoo wallowed in a transcendent cesspool of sheer anxiety, abashed, appalled even at the events that ensued before him; he was rendered powerless to its calamity.

The whir of the electrical apparatus integrated into the dashboard of the vehicle reflected a faint luminescence, gracing his features which was morphed in disquietude.

Thankfully, the field monitor in particular had flickered off due to system strain, but the sight was etched into his mind:

bodily contents woven throughout the pile of bodies, discharging from the sockets of their upturned eyes, or their heinously unhinged jaws,

like disquiet crawled under the fabric of their skin...

Wonwoo flung the door open to empty his stomach out on the pavement.

He winced at the repulsive taste of vomit circulating in his mouth, flushing it out with a stray water bottle, deserted in the coaster by his thigh.

Wiping his mouth, Wonwoo slouched in his seat, drawling a sigh-

Promptly, his consternation was shattered by the ground shaking reverberation of an explosion.

He realized that he had screwed his eyes and tensed due to the impact,

and frankly, Wonwoo did not want to open his eyes.

And so Minghao hobbled with Jeno's limp arm fastened around his nape, Chenle on his other side, hauling the injured along the gravel pathway. Jeno had been slipping between unconsciousness and the latter for the duration of their discourse, making it exceedingly strenuous for the two who were far lighter than the sculpted younger. The excursion was virtually silent, not a word exchanged apart from the necessity, yielding a solemn atmosphere.

In his line of sight, he spotted the familiar van amidst the verdure of leaves sheathing its vessel, alleviation washing over their aching shoulders.

Soonyoung was strolling along the gravel, humming a frivolous tune between his arid lips. His back kissed by the warmth of the quadrant of the building behind him caged in a mighty conflagration of flame.

"Control is when I don't have to intervene"

Soonyoung cocked his head inquisitively, pocketing his hands that shivered against the wintertide gale in spite of the gloves that encased his palms.

The fabric under the hem of Joshua's turtleneck was moistened by a mixture of drool and blood from a gash formulating upon Jaemin's forehead. He bear the younger in his arms, fatigue racking upon his shoulder blades, but the weigh of the boy in his arms couldn't equate to the stupid wooden doll that, peculiarly, managed to remain in Joshua's possession.

The aforementioned persons made it to the van.

As for the last grouping..

No one dared, dared utter a single word as they collectively trudged through the gravel, with the exception of Jeonghan, who rested soundly upon Seungkwan's back; Jisung, Renjun, and Haechan trailing behind the elder.

It was suffocating. They couldn't bear look the other in the eye.

"They're here," Minghao croaked, spotting the practically unrecognizable remaining five members of Ursula minor,