4.6 | Dark Ages ✓

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– 0 1 : 0 5

HIS LUNGS ARE on fire.

But even then, he's focused on her. She sits, cross-legged, opposite him; a girlish innocence on her face that makes her seem younger than her years. She examines his long fingers one by one, then kneels so that she's slightly taller than he is and presses his palms to her cheeks. Her skin is flushed and, as he gazes up at her, he feels a surge of affection bubble up in his chest.

He pulls her down until her nose brushes his. "Why won't you tell me who you are?"

She shakes her head. He lets out a sigh of disappointment and she adds, gently, "But I can tell you who you are."

"Who?"

She sits back on her heels and pulls one of his hand away from her face. With his palm upturned, she glides her finger across his skin. His eyes flutter shut at the sensation. She's writing a word, he realizes. A word in cursive that's too swift for him to catch. There is a 'e' and an 'n' somewhere. He opens his eyes and asks her to repeat it.

But she's already gone.

And the room is darkening. His lungs burn with fresh agony as the air grows thin. He can't breathe. Water roars in his ears and with that comes a realization:

I am drowning.

He sputters and opens his eyes. There's water all around him and he gasps for air. Something has gripped him by his jacket, dragging him towards the riverbed.

Where am I?

He's dumped unceremoniously on land. Hacking, he dry retches into the sand for awhile before lifting his head to catch a glimpse of whoever saved him. The man standing in front of him is dressed in some sort of uniform, but it's hard to make out his features under the moonlight.

"You're good?" the man asks. When he finally manages a nod, the man reaches over to haul him up. "Right. Come on, then."

"Wait, what—"

"I really don't have time for this. Grab your gun and bag, and follow me."

Still coughing, he grabs his things and scrambles up. He almost stumbles as he stands, and he stares at the man who's just saved him. He's grateful for the rescue, but he's so fucking tired of not knowing. For once, he needs to get some answers before he makes a move.

"Who are you?" he rasps. "Where am I?"

Under the moonlight, the man's eyebrows pitch in a furrow and his mouth sets in a grim line. "My name is Jungkook," he says shortly. "And we're in the new Dark Ages. Now shut up and follow me, or those zombies will find us and eat our brains out."