Chapter 11 — When Death Knocked
——
The hallway stretched long and loud.
Footsteps. Shouts. The occasional clang of someone tripping over their own ambition.
Oblivion Squad strolled down the corridor like a pack still figuring out if they were wolves or just survivors. Their boots echoed between concrete walls, scuffed with rookie bootmarks and cracked from years of nervous pacing.
Some dorm doors were wide open.
From one, two rookies were nose-to-nose, screaming over whose bunk was on "the luckier side." One girl in the background filmed it while eating cereal straight from the box.
A few doors down, two cadets were tangled in what looked like a wrestling match. Or maybe foreplay. Nobody could tell anymore.
"God, they're multiplying," Kun muttered.
Zhangwa made a face. "New recruits are worse than plague rats."
"Some of them already flirting?" Suho said, eyeing a couple near the railing sharing a drink and a suspiciously close whisper.
Jackson nodded once. "Tactical mistake. Attachment early in Counter training usually ends in therapy. Or corpses."
"Hot take, Dad," Kun said. "Didn't realize you were a romantic."
Mika walked silently at the edge of the group, her gaze drifting but never aimless. Every open door they passed, she cataloged. Every squad, she memorized.
Then—
They passed a closed door.
Then another, with a sock hanging off the handle like a warning sign.
"Too soon," Kun muttered. "These guys are speedrunning relationship arcs."
Zhangwa grinned. "Plot twist: they're already divorced inside."
Smiley yawned behind them. "Wake me when someone gets kicked out a window."
Then they saw it.
An open door.
Not chaos. Not flirting. Just light and movement.
Laughter drifted out—easy, unforced. But not a full squad. Just three cadets inside.
A girl stood by a wall-mounted amp, tuning the dials with a practiced hand. Her black hair streaked with red caught the light as she leaned in, testing the volume with a sharp flick of her wrist. Punk rock rumbled low beneath her fingers, like a warning still warming up.
On the center bunk, a boy and a girl sat close—shoulders brushing. Both had dark hair, similar bone structure, the quiet sync of people who grew up finishing each other's fights. They shared a single phone screen, laughing at something just barely heard over the rising music.
The room wasn't chaos—it was settled. Lived-in. A spark of something stable in the madness of rookie week.
And that spark was about to meet the fire of Oblivion.
The vibe was different.
Warm. Loud. Alive.
Kun slowed, cocking his head. "Huh. Squad's got chemistry."
"Should we say hi?" Zhangwa asked, already half-stepping toward the door like a gremlin smelling tea to spill.
"Could be useful," Suho said. "Allies early. Information flow."
Mika looked to Kun. Just briefly.
He shrugged. "Let's knock."
Jackson exhaled. "Please don't start a war."
Kun stepped forward and rapped on the open frame.
Knock. Knock.
Voices paused inside. Eyes turned.
The moment held.
New faces. New threads.
And the first spark of something that might become rivalry…
Or something that might never live long enough to.
——
Kun leaned casually against the doorframe, one foot crossed over the other. Oblivion Squad hovered just behind him like shadows with varying degrees of interest and sarcasm.
"Sup," he said with a lopsided grin.
The black-haired girl at the far end of the room didn't even glance up. She was crouched in front of a battered amplifier, fiddling with the dials like she was fine-tuning a bomb. Her hair was shoulder-length, jagged-cut, dyed with two crimson streaks that glowed slightly under the LED lights strung across the ceiling.
"Yo," she muttered, flicking a switch.
The music roared to life—raw punk, full distortion.
Then she finally looked over, one brow arched. "What you want?"
Zhangwa pushed past Jackson, who barely dodged her flailing elbow.
"Nothing shady," she said brightly. "Just checking in, y'know—new faces, potential allies, future drinking buddies, current badasses…"
The amplifier girl tilted her head slightly. "Suit yourself. Welcome to Squad 8."
She paused—then smirked faintly. "Death."
Kun blinked. "Huh?"
"Our squad name," she said. "Squad Death."
Zhangwa clutched her imaginary pearls. "Whew. Bold move."
At the corner bunk, the two cadets lounging there barely moved. A boy and a girl, both with dark, tousled hair and matching expressions of terminal boredom. The girl looked maybe seventeen—slim frame, oversized hoodie, socks half-off. She nudged the guy beside her with her foot, eyes still on her phone.
"Bro," she murmured, "they brought cute girls."
The boy sat up slowly—tank top stretched over a lean, wiry frame, one eyebrow ring catching the room's flickering light.
His eyes locked onto Mika like a heat-seeking missile.
"Wheew…" he muttered, low and deliberate. "The violet one's mine."
Silence.
Kun's amber eyes cut across the room in half a heartbeat. Still relaxed. Still smiling.
But his head tilted just slightly.
"You got a death wish, muscle tank?" he said casually.
The boy blinked, then grinned. "Relax. Didn't know she was taken."
"She is," Kun replied, not breaking eye contact. "So keep your thirst to yourself."
Mika's eyes flicked toward them—sharp, unreadable.
She didn't speak. Just tilted her head slightly, like she was watching something beneath her attention.
Zhangwa instantly clapped a hand on Mika's shoulder and stepped in.
"Oh, they're together," she said with a mock-serious nod. "Like, disgusting levels of together. Expecting twins next semester."
Kun and Mika both turned toward her with twin deadpan stares.
Zhangwa beamed. "Power couple vibes, am I right?"
Smiley, still halfway in the hallway, gave a slow clap. "I give it six days before we're banned from visiting other squads."
Jackson rubbed his temple. "It's day two."
Suho just stared at the Squad Death rookies, eyes narrowed slightly—not hostile, just calculating. Reading the room. Reading the threats.
The girl at the amp kicked the volume down a few notches and stood up. She was taller than expected. Confident posture. Sleeves cut off to reveal ink creeping down her left arm in messy script.
"Name's Vexa," she said. "Leader. Striker. I bite."
"Noted," Zhangwa said cheerfully. "I'm Zhangwa. Gremlin. I bite back."
The hoodie girl gave a lazy wave. "That's my brother," she said, pointing to Tank Top Boy. "Name's Rael. I'm Lita. Support and support."
Rael flexed slightly. "Striker. In case that wasn't obvious."
Kun snorted. "Obvious as your ego."
Rael grinned wider. "You got jokes, pretty boy. I like that."
Mika didn't say a word. But she stepped a little closer to Kun.
Zhangwa caught it and smirked wider.
Suho finally stepped forward. "Anyone else in your squad?"
Lita shrugged. "Other three bailed. Day one."
Jackson nodded once. "Smart or weak?"
"Both," Vexa said. "But mostly weak."
Smiley wandered into the room, already eyeing the snack stash. "So," he said, "you guys into long walks on battlefield ruins or just mild chaos?"
Rael reached under the bed and pulled out a half-eaten bag of fire chips, tossing it to Smiley. "Depends who's asking."
And just like that—two squads in one room.
Tension. Teasing. Territory.
And something electric hanging in the air.
The kind of current that only builds before something big breaks.
——
Vexa sat on her bed like a queen who didn't need a throne—arms loose over her knees, face unreadable under the flickering light.
As Oblivion stepped in, Jackson wordlessly took the nearest unclaimed bunk. Mika moved with quiet grace, settling beside Zhangwa, who bounced onto the mattress like a gremlin ready to ransack a vending machine.
Kun and Suho remained near the entrance, eyes doing silent recon.
"Nice setup," Kun said after a beat, the edge in his voice half teasing, half weighing.
"So who the hell named your squad?"
"Me," Vexa replied, unbothered.
Kun cocked his head. "Didn't know we were allowed to pick."
Vexa smirked faintly. "Depends how fast your squad breaks."
"What's yours?" she asked in return.
"Oblivion."
She nodded once. "Fitting."
Lita, sprawled across her bunk with all the energy of a sugar rush crash, chimed in without lifting her head. "Wait—aren't names assigned by Admin?"
Jackson gave her a quick glance. "How would you know that?"
Lita grinned. "I was front row when Mr. Park roasted your whole existence. Loudest briefing I've ever heard."
Jackson chuckled dryly. "Guess that tracks."
Zhangwa popped up beside Mika and began rifling around. "Any snacks? My soul demands tribute."
"Zhangwa," Suho murmured. "Maybe don't loot strangers."
"There," Vexa said, jerking her chin toward a dented locker near the back. "Leftovers from the ones who quit. Probably cursed."
"Score," Zhangwa grinned, eyes gleaming like a raccoon in moonlight.
Meanwhile, Rael made his move.
He slid onto the bed beside Mika with the smoothness of someone who'd practiced it on more than one squadmate.
Tank top. Confident grin. Elbows on knees.
"So, sweetheart…" he said, voice low. "Where you from?"
Mika didn't flinch. She just blinked slowly, like a camera lens adjusting focus on something irrelevant.
Rael didn't notice. Or didn't care.
Kun's eyes shifted. Just a fraction. His posture didn't change—but the atmosphere did. That subtle charge. Like static before a storm.
"Didn't catch your name," Rael added, leaning a little closer.
Before the moment could snap, Suho broke it—casual, but not really.
"How old are you?" he asked Vexa.
She raised an eyebrow. "Wow. You come here often, or just interrogate every girl you meet?"
Suho's expression didn't flicker. "Just curious."
"…Nineteen," she answered. Dry. Controlled.
"I'm sixteen!" Lita called out with a big, goofy grin.
Rael raised a hand lazily. "Eighteen," he said, still angled toward Mika. "Legal and lethal."
Zhangwa looked up from the locker, cheeks full of mystery snacks. "I like her vibe," she said, nodding toward Vexa. "And this room? Peak gremlin potential."
"Yeah," Kun muttered. "I see that."
But his eyes weren't on the snacks.
They were locked on Rael—still sitting just a little too close to Mika.
Still not noticing the shift.
Still not noticing the fuse.
And that fuse?
Was burning short.
——
Vexa sat cross-legged on her bed, hands braced behind her as she tilted her head at the visitors.
"I didn't get your names yet," she said, tone neutral but not unfriendly—just edged like a blade that hadn't chosen sides.
Jackson let out a quiet sigh, standing near the doorway. "Right. That's on us. We started interrogating you before we even introduced ourselves."
He straightened up slightly, as if snapping into formation out of habit. "Name's Jackson Drake. Twenty-eight. Class: Defender. Rank A."
Vexa raised a brow. "Damn. We got a daddy."
"No," Jackson said flatly.
Lita laughed from her corner. "You kinda do, though."
Jackson shot her a deadpan look.
Suho stepped forward next. "Suho. Seventeen. From Beta. Role and class... still figuring it out."
He jerked a thumb toward Kun, who was still standing near the edge of the room, posture stiff as his eyes followed Rael.
"That's my brother."
"Beta, huh…" Vexa mused. "Figures."
Kun barely glanced up. "Name's Kun. Nineteen. Also Beta. Also no clue what the Admin labeled us."
"Mmmmfffyyynnnaaaammeeizzshhangwaf—" Zhangwa mumbled around a mouthful of stolen snacks, holding up a peace sign.
"Striker, Rank B. Don't question the chaos," Suho translated dryly.
"Got it," Vexa said. "Walking threat with crumbs."
Zhangwa gave a thumbs-up while munching louder.
Then—
Rael, who had been sidling closer to Mika with all the grace of a cocky cat, let his hand rest casually on her shoulder.
"So, sweety... where do you live? Somewhere fancy, right?"
Mika didn't react. Her body stilled completely—shoulders locked, breath shallow, eyes cutting sideways like a sniper lining up a shot.
She didn't speak. Didn't need to.
Kun noticed the shift.
His chest tightened.
That wasn't her being cold—that was her shutting down.
He stepped forward, voice lower now, flatter. "Hey. Cool your horses, mate."
Rael looked over, smirking. "Hm?"
"You can talk," Kun said, eyes locked on the hand. "But don't touch."
Rael didn't move his hand. "It's just my love language, man. No harm done."
Kun's heartbeat picked up. The pulse ticked behind his ears.
The room felt hotter.
"The hell?" He stepped in fully now, voice taut. "We've known you for two minutes and you're already grabbing one of ours?"
Suho's shoulders tensed nearby—silent backup.
Rael stood, mirroring the step, amused. "Don't get territorial, bro. She's not even your girlfriend. Stop pretending."
A sharp breath hit Kun's lungs. His jaw locked.
"Ask her," he growled.
Rael turned theatrically. "So, Mika—this guy your boyfriend? Or just your personal attack dog?"
Mika didn't blink. Her gaze cut through Rael like frostbite.
Then—
She stood.
Brushed his hand off with two fingers—like flicking away ash.
And walked.
Each step deliberate. Cold. Final.
She didn't sit near Kun.
She didn't say anything.
She just dropped beside Zhangwa on the bed, back straight, gaze forward—unbothered but no longer present.
Kun watched her.
His hands unclenched slowly.
But in his chest, something burned sharp.
Rael blinked, confused.
Then—
"Rael," Vexa said. Her voice dropped like a blade hitting tile.
He turned toward her.
Her eyes were steady. Icy.
"Step aside before I break your neck."
A few seconds passed.
Too long.
Then Rael lifted his hands and backed off with a cocky shrug.
"Damn, cold squad."
Lita muttered, "You brought it on yourself, dumbass."
Smiley, lounging near the corner, cracked one eye open. "Could've just flirted with the gremlin. Zhangwa eats attention for breakfast."
Zhangwa smirked. "He couldn't handle me."
Jackson exhaled, jaw ticking.
Suho eased back again, arms crossed, watchful.
Mika hadn't moved. Her expression hadn't changed.
But something behind her eyes had dimmed. Not fear. Not shame.
Just... distance.
Kun stood near the doorway, the fire in his chest still flickering.
He didn't say a word.
But he didn't have to.
The line had been drawn