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Three months had passed since that night. Three months since Haechan had been whisked away from the chaos, back to the sterile, predictable world he knew. The world of formulas, test tubes, and data sheets. The world where he could bury his thoughts in his work and forget about the things that haunted him.

But even in the clean, bright labs of his university, there were shadows. The quiet hum of the fluorescent lights above him could never drown out the memories of that night—of Minhyeong's voice, of the way he carried him without hesitation, of the confusion that had settled in Haechan's heart.

The deal was done. Haechan had gone back to his normal life, surrounded by colleagues and students who never seemed to ask the right questions. His lab was quiet, but it felt like everything else was loud. Like his head was too full.

"Dr. Lee," one of his assistants called out, breaking him from his thoughts. "The latest samples have arrived. Should we start analyzing them?"

Haechan blinked, refocusing on the present. "Yes, yes," he replied, a little too quickly, brushing the stray thought about Minhyeong away as if it were a pesky fly. "Let's get started."

He was back to work. Back to doing what he did best. The only thing that kept his mind from spiraling.

There had been no word from Minhyeong. No word from Johnny. No reason to look back.

But Haechan couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. As if a part of him was still there, waiting for something that could never return.

His research was progressing, but it didn't fill the void. Not fully.

The new project he was working on had consumed him, though. It was the reason he was in his lab so late tonight. There had been a surge in inmates showing signs of a mysterious illness—a virus, perhaps, or something worse. They became sick, violent, bloodthirsty... like monsters. It was terrifying. These prisoners would go from normal to grotesque creatures, driven only by hunger. And when they died, it was always the same. Their bodies decomposed at a rate that didn't make sense.

Haechan furrowed his brow, staring at the reports in front of him. The drugs he had been experimenting with seemed to be the key to stopping the progression of the illness—at least, that's what he hoped. But no matter how much he worked, no matter how much he analyzed, the cure still felt out of reach. The drug seemed to delay the symptoms but never cure them.

It didn't help that he kept thinking about the one person who had taken his thoughts away from science and into something more dangerous.

Minhyeong.

What was he doing now? Was he really free?

Had he left all of that behind? Or was he, like Haechan, still haunted by the ghosts of their past?

A knock at the door broke him from his thoughts again. He turned quickly, startled by the sudden intrusion.

"Dr. Lee?" A voice called through the door. "You're wanted in the director's office. It's urgent."

Haechan frowned, but stood up, glancing one last time at the work before him. He needed to focus, needed to make a breakthrough. There were lives at stake.

He couldn't let the past drag him down.

As he stepped out of his office and into the sterile hallways of the research facility, he pushed the thoughts of Minhyeong out of his head, focusing instead on the next step of his work. The director had always been demanding, and there was no time for distractions.

Jaemin's penthouse was nothing short of extravagant—glass windows from floor to ceiling with a view of the city that seemed endless, crisp white walls lined with expensive art, and sleek, minimalist furniture. Minhyeong sat on the plush sofa, lazily flicking through the channels on the television, the dim glow from the screen casting shadows across his face. He wasn't really watching; his mind was still miles away from the luxury around him, caught in a whirlwind of thoughts that refused to quiet.