Choosing differently

raid

As she reloaded and fired, she noticed Gi Hun and Jung Bae starting to move down the hallway. Her eyes flicked to Young Ill, who was watching them intently, his expression unreadable. She continued to shoot at the guards, who seemed to be multiplying with every passing second.

She pulled the trigger once more, but instead of the expected recoil and sound, there was only a hollow click.

She glanced over at Hyun Ju, her voice urgent and strained. "I'm out!" she shouted, the desperation clear in her tone. Hyun Ju quickly assessed the situation and called out to the rest of the group, "How's everybody doing?!" The responses came back in a chorus of concern and frustration—most of them were out of ammunition as well.

Without wasting a moment, she spotted a fallen player's gun nearby and swiftly grabbed it, feeling a surge of relief as her fingers wrapped around the cold metal. Her eyes darted to Young Ill, who was speaking into the walkie-talkie. Through the chaos, she could faintly hear Gi Hun's voice over the din of gunfire. Young Ill set the walkie talkie down and tried speaking over the shots "Three of us will go; they need help up there!" he was saying. "And we will regroup as soon as we get ammo. Who's coming with me?"

Young Ills gaze swept across the room and locked onto hers. She nodded, determination setting in as she rose to her feet. Another guy nearby shouted his agreement to join them, and the small group began to move. They ducked and weaved through the hail of bullets, their movements synchronized and purposeful.

She followed closely behind Young Ill as they navigated the treacherous path, each step calculated to avoid the incoming fire. The air was thick with tension and the acrid smell of gunpowder. As they approached the purple hallway, the atmosphere seemed to shift, the walls closing in around them she could hear gun shots from nearby still.

Gi Hun was so close to the control room. She followed closely, her eyes watching Young Ill as he cautiously looked around while they ascended the stairs. The man behind them gripped his gun tightly, his eyes darting nervously as he watched Young Ill look up at the camera, his gaze deep and meaningful.

As they continued to climb, the sound of gunfire grew louder. They were getting closer to the action. Rounding the corner, she saw Gi Hun and Jung Bae pressed against opposite walls, their guns at the ready. "Gi Hun! Is the control room close?" Young Ill asked, his voice tense as she held her gun tightly.

"It's up there, but we can't get to it that way. There are too many guards!" Gi Hun replied, frustration evident in his voice. "Can you three go look around for another route?" he asked, looking at Young Ill.

Young Ill nodded, his mind already working on a solution. "I was checking the layout on the way here. I think there's another route. You two stay focused on keeping these bastards busy," he said, determination in his voice. "I'll find another way."

Gi Hun quickly handed him another clip of ammo. "Take this. You'll need it," he said, his eyes locking with Young Ill's in a silent understanding. She watched as Young Ill took the ammo, his face set with resolve.

Gi Hun then looks at his sister for a moment, "Be careful." She nods, her face filled with a mix of concern and gulit. They quickly start to move down the hallway, their footsteps echoing softly in the dimly lit corridor. As they turn a corner, Young Ill glances up and then hides behind the wall, motioning for her to stay by his side.

"Gi Hun, we found it. You two keep firing at them to get their attention. We will take them out from behind," he starts to say into the walkie-talkie, his voice a low whisper. He watches as Gi Hun acknowledges the message with a quick sound, and the sound of gunfire intensifies, drawing the guards' focus.

Young Ill nods, signaling that it's time to move. The guy behind them, designated as 015, starts to walk up the stairs cautiously, his eyes scanning for any threats. She looks at Young Ill, who holds her arm gently but firmly, his grip a silent reassurance. He then points at 015, indicating a silent understanding passes between them, his eyes darkened.

He raises his gun at player 015 and fires. The sound of the shot echoes through the hallway as 015 crumples to the ground. She looks back at him for a moment. As he quickly reloads his gun with new ammo, the walkie-talkie in his pocket starts crackling with Gi Hun's voice. She watches Young Ill crouch down next to the fallen player, blood pooling around them on the cold floor. She doesn't fully understand what he's doing, but a part of her senses his plan.

Young Ill makes a gesture for her to be quiet, putting a finger to his lips. His eyes convey a silent message: trust me. He grabs the walkie-talkie out of his pocket, his movements deliberate and controlled. "I'm sorry, Gi Hun. It's over," he says into the walkie-talkie, his voice trembling with a feigned breathlessness. She watches him closely, realizing that he's faking their deaths to deceive him.

The walkie-talkie crackles again, Gi Hun's voice filled with urgency and confusion. "Young Ill, what's happening? Are you okay? Answer me!" The sound of gunfire rings out from the other side, adding to the chaos.

Young Ill doesn't respond immediately. Instead, he continues to crouch by the fallen player, his hands moving with "We tried... But they got us. Doona got away... I'm sorry," he says, his voice trembling as he moves the walkie-talkie towards the man bleeding on the floor. The man gasps for air, blood trickling from his mouth, his eyes wide with pain and fear. Every breath he takes seems to be a struggle, a fight against the inevitable.

She stands there, watching his every move, her mind trying to figure out his plan. She watches him closely, trying to decipher his intentions. His face is a mask of determination, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that looks almost like regret or sorrow.

He stares at the man on the floor, his expression hardening. The man chokes on his own blood, his life slipping away. Young Ill he raises his gun, but his resolve doesn't waver. The man on the floor tries to speak, but only a gurgle comes out, his eyes pleading for mercy.

With a steely determination, he pulls the trigger, the gunshot ringing out in the confined space. The man's body jerks and then goes still, the light fading from his eyes.

He turns off the walkie-talkie, the silence that follows is deafening. She stands there, watching him. She doesn't fully understand why he did it, but she knows they can't afford to waste any more time.

Young Ill turns towards her, his face a mask of grim determination but she could tell underneath it was much more. "Let's finish this up,"

(Hey! Sorry to end the chapter like this once again on a cliff hanger... I don't know if should continue with the story or wait till season three comes out to have it sort of accurate! Let me know what i should do! Thanks for reading this far!)