"Is that...Gw—Gwi-Nam?" On-Jo splutters, unsteadily clutching onto your arm with one hand.

"I wish it wasn't."

Gwi-Nam hurdles over the banister easily, locked in on a sole target, disregarding Su-Hyeok battling with multiple belligerent zombies in the corner. In the meantime, Cheong-San shakes himself out of his reverie, coming back from his momentarily lapse after being frozen in place due to Gwi-Nam's unsolicited presence, smacking the latter clear across the face with a folded tripod still gripped stringently in both hands. If it were any other person—any normal human being—that harsh contact of the metal bookplate would have resulted in a broken facial skeleton in the best-case scenario, and death in the worst.

But, Gwi-Nam is no ordinary human being—not anymore.

He calmly twists his cracked neck back into position, bending it with a harsh snap whilst leering psychotically.

On-Jo is a mess next to you, panicking as she breathes out shallowly through her nose. Both down below and above, misfortune is running high.

Decidedly, On-Jo switches places with Dae-Su, Wu-Jin, and Joon-Yeong, doing everything in her power to get through the sealed exit with the full force of her petite body. The three boys instantly aid in grappling with the slowly slipping tarp, weighed down by a constant stream of incoming zombies.

You chew on your lip hard as you see Gwi-Nam hauling Cheong-San by the collar toward him, free hand gradually moving closer toward his head. Cheong-San shouldn't have to be the one dealing with the repercussions alone, particularly since you and him were in it together, having sent Gwi-Nam to his alleged demise. 'No one gets left behind' has been the tacit rule from the start of the outbreak, and Cheong-San was one of the uppermost people you couldn't sacrifice, even less so in this kind of way.

Not being able to take it anymore, you surge down the stairwell, indistinctly cognizant of another set of footsteps padding behind you. Without a care for the consequences, you use all your strength to wrench Gwi-Nam's hand backward.

"Perfect," Gwi-Nam sneers, swiveling his head to the right, lopsided eye socket fixated on you as the good one glances lazily away from Cheong-San. "Just the people I wanted to see."

Despite being skilled enough to fight off any other opponent in combat thanks to your father's training, Gwi-Nam casts you to the floor effortlessly, hand now back to gripping Cheong-San's face, thumb digging into his orbital cavity with ill intent to gouge, smirking all the while. "An eye for an eye will suffice."

Precipitously, Nam-Ra is alongside you, helping you back to your feet before sidestepping over your form, hoisting Gwi-Nam into the air by his neck, her fingers curling and digging into the soft flesh. "Why didn't you die? Why won't you die?"

Gazing up in shock, you notice one of Nam-Ra's eyes has turned red, veins encircling her pupil. Sounds of shattering bones make you turn the other way, seeing Gwi-Nam floundering pathetically.

"What the hell?" With a final expletive from Gwi-Nam, Nam-Ra flings him like a ragdoll down onto the still-stretched blue canvas, his body a projectile to topple all remaining zombies lingering on the steps.

Cheong-San gapes at her like a fish out of water, but Nam-Ra is more incredulous at what she had just done, staring down at her shaking hands, eye now having returned to normal. You cover her hands with yours and they stop juddering instantaneously, just as the characteristic sound of the fire alarm goes off.

"Guys! The door is open!" On-Jo yells over the brash wailing as everyone whips their heads in her direction.

"One, two, three!" Su-Hyeok counts off, Cheong-San combining his efforts with the taller boy to shunt away the few zombies who managed to get their bearings straight and climbed back up in the interim.

Knowing they're now good enough to be left alone, you pull Nam-Ra onto the rooftop in time to see a helicopter taking off. Mixed cries for it to come back, to look down at the survivors still standing strong below goes unheard. If you could put imagery to the definition of hopelessness, it would be this; here, where kids are begging to be saved in the abandonment of adults.

The same time that Cheong-San sinks to the floor in enervation after him and Su-Hyeok slam the steel doors closed, Hyo-Ryung also collapses to the ground in dejection, mourning the elusive chance of salvation.

At Nam-Ra's sudden turning of her body toward the door seconds later, you also follow, her hand remaining clasped in yours, still warm to the touch.

Relentless punches on the other side forces Cheong-San to stand upright, gaze unmoving from the doorknobs; the last in the series finishes with a dent, molded into the outline of a fist. Having now enduringly shut once again, there's no passage any longer through the entrance.

"What the fuck..." Dae-Su slurs, ultimately dropping the metal rod he was wielding.

"Gwi-Nam left," Nam-Ra states, notifying the group. "His scent no longer loiters, and I can't hear his breathing as clearly now."

"What happened?" Cheong-San directs at Su-Hyeok. "Didn't you say he fell from the fourth floor?"

Su-Hyeok shoves his hands in his pants pocket and nods. "He did. I hurled him through a window."

"So, tell me then, how did he survive?"

"Maybe he doesn't die, or he resurrects every time he does?" Su-Hyeok looks at the door and exhales. "I don't know anymore."

"Now he's neither human nor zombie," Cheong-San drones. "Do you two remember that one girl we ran into in the staff lounge?"

"Eun-Ji," you supply.

Su-Hyeok makes a sound of agreement. "Labeling her as abnormal would be an understatement."

Cheong-San stares off into space, analyzing. "Gwi-Nan's like her, isn't he?"

"Perhaps something similar, yeah," Su-Hyeok answers, irresolute.

"What if Nam-Ra is the same?" Cheong-San looks your way, and Nam-Ra tightens her hold on your hand, endeavoring to conceal herself behind you.

"Stop," you say, shaking your head. "She saved you—saved all of us. Please don't act like this." You take a step forward and voice out, much quieter, "We made him into what he is now, whether we intended to or not." Nam-Ra's looking at the floor when you peek over your shoulder at her. "Nam-Ra's fine," you emphasize, "and she'll continue to be."

Cheong-San's eyes shift guiltily. "You can't guarantee what will happen later on."

"There's nothing we can guarantee right now either," you retort. "Cheong-San..." you plead, catching his eye.

"Alright," he concedes, giving in. "Let's make sure we survive, then." He leaves without another word, effectively ending the discussion to make his way toward everyone else rifling through various piles of leftover material strewn around.

Nam-Ra goes off on her own afterward, and you and Su-Hyeok help rummage for arbitrary pieces that could be used to shape the 'SOS' letters following On-Jo's nearly forgotten plan from however long ago.

"This piece is too big!" On-Jo rejects a thin slab of wood Joon-Yeong hands to her.

"How about this one?" he proffers, as Dae-Su lifts a metal base foundation up, proud, before On-Jo resolutely turns down both his and Joon-Yeong's choices.

Wu-Jin's finds prove to be more successful, the gathered bright yellow standees desirably suitable and eye-catching. "Joon-Yeong, can you climb up top and see how this looks?"

After scaling the short rooftop ladder, Joon-Yeong makes a picture frame with his hands at eye-level, miming capturing a shot. "For starters..." he trails off, sucking air through his teeth in dissatisfaction, "the 'O' is a bit narrow."

"You heard him!" Wu-Jin repeats. "Since the 'O' is too tapered, can you hand me that lengthy wood piece, Dae-Su?" Remarkably, his friend points to an unambiguous chunk, asking for confirmation wordlessly as Wu-Jin reaches to accept it. "Yeah, yeah, that one."

"I don't know about you guys," On-Jo declares, tilting her head to one side, assessing, "but I feel as though the letters should appear larger than they do right now." She looks up at Joon-Yeong still on higher ground. "Anything else?"

"Well, since you're asking—" Joon-Yeong pushes his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. "—the 'S' is too short. How about we fill that spot too?" Turning this way and that, he remains malcontent. "Overall, the letters are quite squished also. Spreading them out will be better." Everybody heeds the barrage of propositions, taking it in stride, and obediently goes through with revisions.

Dae-Su ascents up next to Joon-Yeong after a while of shifting pieces around on the ground. "Guys, come take a look. We did pretty good work, all things considered." He beckons the group with his hand, and one by one, everyone congregates on the ledge to survey the outcome.

"There's no way you can miss this signal," Joon-Yeong begins, before reverting back to nitpicking mode as he catches sight of something else in need of tweaking. "In my opinion, the word line is still a smidge crooked, and the second 'S' is dwarfed in size compared to the other two letters."

"Ever the perfectionist," you lark out, tapping him on the shoulder. "It's okay, we did our best. As long as the rescuers are literate, they'll swing down here, regardless of aesthetics." Joon-Yeong acquiesces, and everyone takes that as a cue to head back down.

Dae-Su squats and moves a corner piece absentmindedly. While brushing his hands together to clear them of dust, he vents, inquisitive, "What does 'SOS' mean?"

On-Jo is perched on a chair, looking at him expressionlessly. "It's a distress signal."

"I know that...but what does it stand for?"

"Nothing; it doesn't stand for anything. 'SOS' is just 'SOS,' and that's it." You smile to yourself at On-Jo's conviction, wondering how much longer you can watch these two bickering when you know the answer. Pulling up a chair next to her, you sit down with your legs crossed and regard the two conversing, amused. Ji-Min and Hyo-Ryung are in the same boat as you, speechless at the flow of discourse.

"Eyyy," Dae-Su drawls, eyeing On-Jo, unimpressed. "There's no such thing. Everything has a meaning. Plus, why would people use it for something so vital if there's no gist?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

Trying to make sense of it, you can just about see the gears turning in Dae-Su's head as he mumbles to himself, "To be rescued quickly, 'SOS...' Speed of Save?" He looks back at On-Jo, seemingly struck with epiphany, causing you to stifle your hilarity.

On-Jo clucks her tongue at him disappointingly. "Why ask if you didn't aim to believe me in the first place?"

"I thought you'd know!" Dae-Su ripostes, somewhat bothered. "Clearly not."

"I do know! Just look it up and you'll see I'm right!" Crossing her arms, she nearly scowls at his outright questioning of her knowledge given her father's occupation as a first responder.

"Whatever," Dae-Su grumbles, looking the other way. "How can I search for the answer when I don't even have my phone?"

In the midst of the heated debate, Cheong-San saunters over, clueless. "What is it? Why is everyone sulking?"

"I asked On-Jo here what 'SOS' meant, but she said it has no import." After explaining the situation, he glances at On-Jo cursorily, badgering. "If you don't know, you can just say so."

"What I'm saying is true," she accounts doggedly.

"What she's saying is true," Cheong-San defends baselessly, parroting.

"It is?" Dae-Su considers one of his closest friends' words, leaning toward his side for the time being.

"Yeah, On-Jo is correct. Why won't you trust her?"

At the mention of On-Jo's name again, Dae-Su declines to believe he's wrong and twirls his head your way. "Hey, Chae-Wol, you're smart, right?"

"I would like to think so," you say in between giggles at his blunt question.

"Can you tell me what 'SOS' stands for?"

"Why, you little—" On-Jo twitches, but Cheong-San holds her back, not that she'd be able to do much damage to Dae-Su anyhow.

"Forget it. Let him be," Cheong-San settles.

"Back then, ships used the signal in times of distress but with dots and dashes; Morse code basically. 'SOS' is recognized internationally as a call for help, and the acronym can mean either "Save our Ship," or "Save Our Souls." Finished with your information drop, you look around to see On-Jo's expression of betrayal and Dae-Su's winning grin, albeit still a little dubious.

"Hah! On-Jo was wrong!" Dae-Su pumps a fist into the air celebrating for the time being, before rethinking. "Thanks Chae-Wol, but I'm going to ask Nam-Ra for a second opinion since you're ranked third and she's first."

On-Jo slaps you on the shoulder and you laugh at the expression on her face, not even affronted by Dae-Su's refreshingly frank remark, given its truthful nature.

Cheong-San looks between the two of you, puzzled. "So, which one of you girls is correct?"

"Yah! You don't trust me, your best friend?" On-Jo asks, glaring.

"No," Cheong-San deadpans.

"It's cute that you took her side despite being skeptical," you tease, watching Cheong-San fidget, but doesn't alter his stance on the matter.

On-Jo gets up and promptly kicks him to the floor in petty revenge. "We should start a fire," she suggests nonchalantly, disregarding Cheong-San in crippling pain on the floor. "The sun will set soon."

You, Ji-Min, and Hyo-Ryung turn to one another before bursting into a fit of giggles, forgetting about the prior hardships for a split second. In that moment—just for a moment, it's evocative of a normal school day.

You're drawn back to reality though, as before long, the group has their heads together, crouching over a pile of wood chips trying to manually start a fire. Squished between Su-Hyeok and Wu-Jin, you observe as On-Jo strains to twist a stick into the pile as fast as she can, though oddly enough, her strength runs out even quicker. "Next person!" Yielding, she stands up and makes way for Joon-Yeong, passing over the twig after delivering minimal effort.

"Already?!" he asks in disbelief, settling down regardless. Surprisingly, he makes a lot of progress, if the loud sound of the wood pieces scraping together is any indication.

"You'll get tired at the rate you're going!" Dae-Su cautions. "Slow down, buddy!"

From your left, Wu-Jin backhands his shoulder, trying to shut him up. "We won't get any closer to starting a fire if he proceeds slowly!"

"Never mind, Joon-Yeong," Dae-Su changes his words right away. "Do it faster! Come on! More!" The 180-degree turn in his tone is practically comical, his mouth moving speedily to match the exact meaning of his words.

"That doesn't sound right at all," Wu-Jin looks at him, repulsed. "Can't you rephrase that?"

"Ah!" Joon-Yeong suddenly yelps, holding his wrist now cramped up from the external stress factors. Dramatically, he rears away. "I can't do this."

"Aish, step back." Dae-Su shoulders Joon-Yeong lightly out of the way and takes on the task at hand, much to the frustration of the whole group at his ineffective form.

"Should we kill him?" Wu-Jin addresses, sorely disappointed. "Why are your hands clinched and your eyes closed, Dae-Su?"

"What are you praying for?" you joke, playing along. Wu-Jin smiles down at you, delighted that you're adding to his pestering of Dae-Su.

"For all the single people of this bunch—myself included," Dae-Su replies without hesitation.

"Stop praying for things that won't come true, and wish for a fire instead, idiot," Wu-Jin scolds, slapping his friend upside the head.

"I'm trying, but this is a difficult process. It's not working." Dae-Su presses the wooden stick into your hand, and Wu-Jin hits him even harder. "Ladies first, amirite?"

Using all your might, you coil against the kindling with as much pressure as you can apply, Su-Hyeok placing his face nearly to the floor, blowing air into the wood pile consistently. With his help, you can only hope the oxygen inserted will get the sparks going.

"Wait, wait, isn't that smoke?" Wu-Jin points elatedly, close to knocking you over as he huddles in to see.

"Here," Nam-Ra offers, and everyone looks up at her in astonishment as she pulls a lighter from her skirt pocket, jutting it forward. In your haste, you had absolutely forgotten about Nam-Ra owning a flammable object. "You should use this. I smoke," she confesses candidly as multiple pair of eyes gawk at her. "So, you don't want it?" She makes to take it back, but you grab it and she sighs, relieved for the lack of judgment.

You hold the lighter in your dominant hand, thumb on the serrated spark wheel at the top and roll it down quickly into the ignition button, transferring the flame into the kindling.

A fire roars to life instantaneously.

"You know, Nam-Ra," you praise, looking up at her as she lights up at your next words, "you really are number one."

The flames rapidly settle into steady flickers, pulsing, much like a heart, and for every beat, you're reminded that there's still hope slowly, but surely, growing.

»»————-————-««

Even with the blaze burning in the middle to warm everyone seated around it, the night air is frigid, coldness gradually seeping all the way to your bones. You huddle nearer to Su-Hyeok for body heat, and once he notices you shivering, he makes to remove his blazer, but you shake your head.

"Then you'll be cold," you fret, placing your hand over his to halt his actions.

Su-Hyeok swathes you in his jacket anyway, the garment engulfing you completely. "Better me than you."

"Don't be ridiculous, we can share." You scoot a bit closer in order to wrap the blazer over both of your shoulders. Su-Hyeok grins to himself, drawing you ever closer by the waist until there's no semblance of space where you're pressed into his side. His arm slides behind your back to rest featherlight on your hip, concealed from view of the others under the fabric.

He lazily turns to Dae-Su after, wanting to break the silence that fell over the group. "How did your audition go, Dae-Su?"

"I was told to lose weight," Dae-Su murmurs, elbow on thigh and head resting in his fist. He outbreaths, glowering into the fire pit aimlessly.

"That's unfair and uncalled for," you scoff. "The panel had no right to judge anything, aside from your singing."

"Thanks for the support, Chae-Wol." Dae-Su smiles sincerely at you, nodding his head in gratitude. "But they made their decision."

"What a shame," Su-Hyeok agrees. "You're a good singer, though." He nudges Dae-Su seated next to him. "Why don't you sing for us? I'd be honored to hear it."

Despite Su-Hyeok going about it nicely and genuinely, Dae-Su declines. "I don't know if I want to."

Joon-Yeong pulls his legs inward, hugging his knees to his chest, joining in on the conversation. "I really do like that song."

Dae-Su