Lines We Cross ||Front Man x Reader||

When Young-il's final words came through the radio, my heart dropped like a stone.

"I'm sorry, Gi-hun. It's over. They got us. Keep Y/N safe."

No fucking way.

Everything felt surreal, like the walls of the corridor were closing in around me. My chest tightened, and for a moment, I couldn't even breathe.

This couldn't be happening.

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep it together, but guilt hit me like a punch in the stomach. All this time, I doubted him, thought he wasn't trustworthy, that he was hiding something. And now? He was gone. He'd died fighting for our freedom, for us.

And his final words? They were about me.

Goddammit, Young-il. Why'd you have to do this? Why'd you have to go out like this?

My throat burned, and I could feel tears wanting to spill out. I hated crying, hated showing any kind of weakness, but I couldn't stop it. The plans we made, the stupid date we joked about... all of it was gone.

And I hated to admit it, but I liked him. Even with all the mistrust, the nagging doubt in the back of my head, I couldn't deny that we'd grown closer. He'd made his way into my life, into my thoughts, and now there was just this fucking void where he used to be.

I barely had time to process it when the radio crackled again. The rest of the team came through, their voices grim.

"We're out of ammo," one of them said. "We're screwed. We're gonna have to surrender."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I turned to look at Jung-bae and Gi-hun, both of them checking their magazines. The expressions on their faces said it all. We were out too. Completely dry.

Jung-bae clicked his tongue and let out a frustrated sigh, tossing his empty magazine to the floor. Gi-hun avoided my gaze, staring at his weapon like it might magically reload itself if he wished hard enough.

We didn't need to say anything.

We looked at each other, a silent agreement passing between us.

We were done.

We were going to surrender.

The three of us stepped out from behind the doorframe, our hands raised in surrender. I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears as we dropped our guns to the floor, the clatter echoing down the hallway. Slowly, we got on our knees, hands behind our heads.

The guards moved in cautiously, their guns set on us like we were wild animals ready to attack thrm. They circled behind us, the barrels of their weapons pressing against the backs of our heads. My stomach churned with a sick, heavy dread, a feeling I couldn't shake. Deep down, I knew something was about to go down.

I looked up, and sure enough, there he was.

The same black geometric mask, the same dark suit, the same unsettling presence. The bastard moved toward us with that slow, deliberate stride, like he was in complete control of everything. My chest tightened as the memories of him flooded back. I remembered every fucking second of what this asshole did.

When he finally stopped in front of us, his modulated voice cut through.

"Player 456."

Gi-hun slowly looked up, his face a mixture of fear and confusion.

The man tilted his head slightly, almost mocking, before speaking again. "Did you have fun playing the hero?"

And then, before anyone could react, he pointed his pistol directly at Gi-hun.