Soft morning sunlight slipped through the pale hospital curtains, casting thin golden lines across the white room. The air smelled sterile, heavy with antiseptic and silence, broken only by the steady, mechanical beep... beep... beep of the heart monitor beside the bed.
Eun Chae slowly opened her eyes.
For a moment, everything was blurred. The ceiling above her was unfamiliar. Too white. Too bright. Her head felt heavy, as if she had been pulled from the bottom of a deep ocean and forced back into the world before she was ready.
Her gaze shifted weakly downward and landed on the IV needle taped into the back of her hand.
A hospital.
The memory hit her in fragments—pain, fear, chaos, and then darkness.
The door opened.
A doctor stepped inside, followed closely by her mother and father. Their faces carried the exhaustion of people who had not slept all night. The doctor approached her bed first, calm and professional, though there was visible concern in his eyes.
"Good. You're awake," he said.
He leaned in and briefly checked her pupils with a penlight.
"Any dizziness? Pain? Nausea?"
But Eun Chae barely heard him.
Her eyes moved anxiously around the room, searching for someone else. Someone important.
"Where is Officer Jung?" she asked immediately, her voice hoarse but urgent.
Her father answered before anyone else could.
"He left."
The words struck her instantly.
Eun Chae pushed herself upright so fast that the bed creaked beneath her. Her pulse quickened.
"What time is it?" she asked, her voice sharper now.
Her mother stepped closer, worry etched into every line of her face.
"It's 10:00 a.m."
Eun Chae froze.
"10:00 a.m.?"
Panic surged through her body.
Without another second of hesitation, she threw the blanket aside and swung her legs off the bed, ignoring the wave of weakness that crashed into her the moment her feet touched the floor.
"I need to leave," she said.
Her mother quickly grabbed her arm.
"Leave? Have you lost your mind?"
"You're not going anywhere," her father added firmly.
The doctor stepped in front of her before she could move any farther.
"Miss Eun, you need rest."
His voice remained controlled, but there was urgency behind it.
"You suffered severe trauma and extreme exhaustion. Your body is in no condition to—"
"I have to get to work," Eun Chae cut in.
"Work can wait."
"No," she said, her eyes hardening. "It can't."
The room fell into a heavy silence.
Eun Chae looked at all three of them, her chest rising and falling unevenly, her face pale but burning with determination.
"The city is in danger," she said.
Her voice trembled, not with fear, but with desperation.
"People are dying while I lie here doing nothing."
The doctor's expression darkened.
"And if you keep pushing yourself like this," he said, "you'll die too."
Her mother's eyes filled instantly with tears.
"You almost died," she whispered.
For a brief moment, Eun Chae looked away.
Her jaw tightened.
There was fear in her. Pain too. But none of it was stronger than the guilt clawing inside her chest.
"I don't have time," she said quietly.
And then, before anyone could stop her—
She ripped the IV from her hand.
"Eun Chae!" her mother cried out.
"What are you doing?!" the doctor shouted, lunging forward.
A sharp sting shot through her wrist as blood surfaced where the needle had been, but she ignored it. She stumbled as she got fully off the bed, her body shaking violently from weakness.
For one terrifying second, it looked like her legs would give out beneath her.
But she caught herself against the wall.
"Stop her!" her father yelled.
The doctor reached toward her, but Eun Chae pulled away before he could touch her.
She looked at them—at her frightened mother, her angry father, and the helpless doctor—and something in her expression softened.
"I'm sorry," she said.
And she meant it.
But not enough to stay.
"But I can't stay here."
Then she turned and ran.
She pushed through the hospital room door and stumbled into the corridor, still dressed in her hospital gown, her bare feet slapping weakly against the cold floor.
The bright hallway seemed to spin around her.
Nurses froze mid-step. Patients and visitors turned to stare in shock as she ran past them, one hand pressed against the wall to keep herself upright.
Behind her, she could hear the chaos erupting.
"Eun Chae!" her mother's voice echoed down the hall.
"Stop her!" the doctor shouted.
But Eun Chae didn't stop.
She couldn't.
Every breath burned in her chest. Her body screamed for rest. Her vision blurred again and again, threatening to pull her back into darkness.
Still, she forced herself forward.
One step.
Then another.
Then another.
Because somewhere outside that hospital, danger was still waiting.
And Eun Chae had already lost too much time.
She turned the corner and disappeared from sight.