After some discussion and debating, Min Jae found himself in the driver's seat of the four seat SUV. Since he had done some secret driving lessons with his father he was somewhat familiar with the procedure, Joon-ho kept to himself indoors so had no experience whatsoever and Hyun was the fighter...so it only made sense that Min Jae had to drive.
He turned the key. "Ok. Not so hard now."
"Please be a little bit faster." Hyun urged him.
"Alright. I'm on it." Min Jae replied. He removed his foot from the clutch pedal too fast, and the car jumped and instantly turning off. The trio sighed.
After two more attempts, Min Jae finally succeeded. They moved through the streets, Min Jae gripping the steering wheel tighter, the city sprawled ahead in a tangle of streets and low morning haze.
The sun had just begun to lift the shadows from the buildings, turning the asphalt slick with a fleeting gold sheen. Joon-ho shuffled uncomfortably in the passenger seat, while Hyun, eyes sharp and unyielding, leaned forward, checking the road ahead like a predator.
The SUV moved cautiously at first, then faster as Min Jae grew more confident. The earlier hiccups faded away, replaced by the urgent rhythm of tires on pavement.
They stopped first at a small convenience store. Joon-ho hopped out, eager to find something to cover his grimy, sleep-stained clothes, while Min Jae remained at the wheel, scanning the streets for obstacles. Hyun kept watch outside, his fighter's instinct kicking in, assessing every shadow, car, building.
Minutes later, they were inside a small mall. Min Jae lingered near the entrance, scanning the parking lot and the low-rise buildings surrounding it. They moved quickly, grabbing what they needed—clean clothes, snacks, a few bottles of water. Joon-ho muttered his thanks as they bundled into the SUV again.
The drive continued, weaving through the widening streets as the sun climbed higher. Every intersection felt like a potential trap. Min Jae's eyes stayed on the road, but occasionally flicked to the distant skyscraper that had lodged itself in his mind. It was impossibly tall, reflecting the light in a thousand shards, a monument to everything that had been lost and might yet be saved.
By the time they found a quiet little diner, the sun was out, washing the city in a sharp clarity. They parked at the curb, the car's engine ticking down as it cooled.
Min Jae poured steaming coffee into three mugs. Joon-ho reached for his, distracted, and knocked over the cup meant for Hyun. Coffee splashed across the table, scalding Hyun's hand and seeping over the edge. Hyun yelped, swiping at the liquid, but instinctively tapped his watch, the sapphire face unharmed. "Still working," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, the tense edge in his voice barely concealed.
"Sorry," Joon-ho mumbled, cheeks reddening as he frantically dabbed at the mess with napkins. Min Jae, however, didn't move. His gaze had drifted beyond the diner, past the streets, past the faint bustle of early traffic, settling on the distant skyscraper again. Hyun followed his line of sight, scanning the horizon. At first, there was nothing, just the glimmer of sunlight on metal and glass. "What is it?" Hyun asked finally, voice sharper now, sensing Min Jae's focus.
"That," Min Jae said, pointing steadily, "is where my parents are." His voice was quiet, but each word carried weight. The skyscraper towered in the distance, a silent sentinel above the chaos of the city. Hyun leaned forward, squinting, adjusting his stance until the building came into focus. It would take at least fifteen minutes to reach it, and a round trip to the subway station would stretch almost an hour. They'd have maybe ten minutes to spare, if everything went perfectly.
Hyun's expression hardened, the strategist's mind already calculating risk, time, and possibilities. "It'll be tricky," he said, voice low but resolute. "But I want to save as many people as we can." He didn't ask for confirmation, didn't pause for debate. His words left no room for hesitation.
Joon-ho didn't object. He simply tightened his seatbelt and exhaled, ready to follow Min Jae wherever the road would take them. The trio stepped back outside, the sun striking the metallic surfaces of their SUV, highlighting every scratch, every dent from the morning's chaos.
Min Jae's foot pressed hard on the pedal, the engine responding with a growl. Min Jae maneuvered deftly, instincts honed from secret lessons and necessity. Joon-ho's eyes darted nervously from rearview mirror to side mirror, while Hyun's gaze never wavered, fixed on the distant skyscraper that had become their silent destination.
At one point, a screech shattered the morning calm. Tires skidded. Their heads whipped back, but what they saw was almost laughably mundane, contrast to the impending doom of the next wave of monsters, a streetlight had toppled onto a parked car. Hyun tapped his watch again, checking its function as if to remind himself that some things still worked.
Min Jae, hands steady on the wheel, focused again on the distance. Hyun's gaze followed, a question lingering unspoken. Min Jae gestured once more, precise and deliberate. "That's where they are," he said, voice barely above the rumble of the SUV. Hyun's eyes sharpened, the city's chaos condensing into a single point of focus.
No time for hesitation. No room for error. The pedal pressed harder. The SUV surged forward, engine straining, tires gripping the road like claws. The skyscraper loomed closer with every passing second, its silhouette etched against the morning sky. Min Jae drove, Joon-ho sat tense, Hyun calculated, and all three moved as one, chasing the fragile hope that lives still somehow lingered atop that distant tower.
Each street passed like a heartbeat, every intersection a gamble. Ten minutes to spare. They couldn't afford anything less. Every turn, every acceleration, every careful swerve was a countdown. And in the quiet spaces between the city's morning noise, Min Jae's eyes never left the skyscraper.
They were almost there.
...
..
.
The SUV rolled to a stop at the base of the skyscraper, its tires crunching over broken glass and debris. The streets were silent, save for distant rumbles of destruction and the faint hiss of fires somewhere down below. A few lifeless bodies lay scattered near the entrance, twisted and motionless. Min Jae didn't glance at them. He didn't need to. Each second counted.
The revolving doors groaned, but the elevator inside still responded, its lights flickering but functional. They pressed the button for the 14th floor, hearts hammering with a mix of relief and fear. Each ding of the passing floors felt like a countdown.
When the doors slid open, the hallway was eerily quiet. Dust hung in the air, disturbed by their quick steps. Min Jae's hand shot to the handle of his parents' suite. The door was ajar, swinging slightly as if nudged by a breeze. He pushed it wide.
"Mom? Dad?" His voice cracked, raw with panic, echoing in the apartment.
From the bathroom came soft, broken sobs. Min Jae's chest tightened as he ran toward the sound, flinging the shower curtain aside.
His father was there, crouched on the tiles, shoulders shaking, hands covering his face. The sight struck Min Jae harder than any monster, any explosion, any nightmare outside. His chest ached. A solitary tear slipped down his cheek.
"Dad…" Min Jae whispered, voice catching. His father looked up, eyes red and hollow, but didn't speak. The vulnerability, the sheer human fragility, anchored Min Jae for a moment.
But something gnawed at him. His gut twisted. The sobs weren't everything.
"Dad," he pressed, stepping closer. "Where's Mom?"