Chapter Text
The room was too still to be true.
It wasn't just quiet because no one was talking; it felt heavier, like something was pressing down. It was the kind of heavy feeling that got into your bones.
That feeling came from the concrete walls all around them, walls that had seen too much.
It was the weight of secrets buried so deep you couldn't even name them, and it was the weight of lives shaped by war, lives that were bruised by blood and bound tightly by duty.
The room itself was underground, with no windows anywhere.
It was made completely of steel and stone. This was a place built to get rid of any kind of softness because, honestly, softness just didn't last in rooms like this one.
No shadows danced here, and there was no warmth hanging around at all.
The planning room in the headquarters of the military of South Korea.
Right in the middle of everything, a long black table stretched out. It was polished perfectly, like black glass, and there wasn't a single fingerprint on it.
Around the table, eight metal chairs were lined up in a very strict way. But only two of them were actually being used.
There were two figures, both dressed in black, sitting at opposite ends of the table. They looked like silhouettes, as still as statues.
The quiet in the underground room made them seem sharper, and you could tell they were haunted by their past, by history.
On the left was Agent Van.
His codename was something people whispered across country borders. It was a name written on kill lists, and it was told like a scary ghost story through enemy networks.
Nobody knew how he looked—it was more like he wasn't ever revealed in front of the world.
It was the kind of name you simply didn't say out loud unless you were ready for whatever happened next, maybe even death.
He was practically lounging low in his chair, with his legs stretched out long under the table. It was like he owned not just this room, but the very ground beneath it.
His body was lean, and he looked almost lazy in how he sat, but there was nothing soft about him at all. He moved like a sharp blade: quiet, fast, and he wouldn't forgive anything.
His black combat shirt was open at the collar, with a few buttons undone, as if the rules in this place just didn't apply to him. His sleeves were rolled up carelessly to his elbows, showing off his forearms.
They were cut with muscle and had veins like old maps, roads that led to places no one dared to ask.
There was a small cut on his lower lip. It was faint and old, not new and not completely healed. It was just... there, just like many other bruises on his body.
And his eyes: they were almost black and as cold as a gun. They watched the room with a quiet kind of violence.
They were narrowed, heavy-lidded, and they took in everything, even when he pretended not to care about anything at all.
When his eyes flicked lazily toward the blinking red light above the steel door, he looked about as interested as a man trying to decide if he should yawn or not.
Across from him, sitting very straight with his hands perfectly still, was Agent JK.
Agent JK was a few years younger than Van, and his build was a bit broader.
His neck was straight, his shoulders were perfectly squared, and his posture was clearly etched with deep discipline. His gloved hands rested with absolute stillness on his thighs; you wouldn't see a single twitch or tremble from them.
The collar of his uniform jacket hugged his neck cleanly, zipped all the way up, with not even a wrinkle out of place anywhere.
He really looked like someone carved right out of stone. His jawline was sharp, and his expression was completely unreadable.
And his eyes: they were brown, turning darker in the right light and held a kind of clarity that actually made other people sit up straighter and watch their words more carefully.
Nothing, it seemed, ever slipped past those eyes.
Where Van often seemed like pure sin, JK was the very definition of order. Where Van breathed recklessness into the air, JK was all about restraint.
Not a single word had passed between them since they'd been brought into the room. And yet, the air connecting them felt anything but quiet. It was charged, just waiting for something to happen.
On the table right between them, a single device glowed faintly, and its flickering hologram hovered there, almost like a heartbeat. It displayed:
ECLIPSE UNIT — BRANCH SIGMA
AGENT VAN | AGENT JK
Two names for one mission, and a history that neither of them had the luxury to simply forget.
Time passed slowly, like the drip of a leaky faucet.
Van, clearly bored, stretched an arm overhead, and his joints cracked faintly in the heavy silence. The rings on his fingers caught the cold fluorescent light, sending small reflections dancing across the black table.
"They're late," he muttered, not really expecting JK to answer him.
And he didn't get one.
The silence stretched on.
Van glanced across the table at JK, and his mouth twitched. It wasn't a smile, not really. He doesn't smile. He smirks. It was more like mockery, but somehow still draped in his usual charm.
"Still sitting like you swallowed a damn ruler, sir."
JK's gaze flicked to him, just for a second. It was flat, completely impassive, and dead calm. Then, without another moment's hesitation, his eyes went right back to the blinking red light above the door.
"I always address you with respect," JK stated, his voice perfectly even. "Perhaps you could try returning the courtesy for once, sir."
Van scoffed quietly under his breath. "I called you sir, didn't I? And respect's earned, sweetheart," he shot back, a hint of disdain in his tone. "It's not just handed out to stiff little soldiers who cry over every broken protocol." Van struck once again.
There was a brief pause. Then, a whisper of amusement slowly crept into Van's voice, almost mocking. "Tell me," he continued, leaning slightly forward, "do you sleep standing up too? Or do you just dream in perfect formation?"
Jungkook didn't actually rise to the bait with words. But the slow, visible clench of his jaw said more than enough.
Jungkook's fingers flexed just once inside his gloves, a silent tick of irritation. Or maybe it was preparation. Perhaps it was even both.
The hologram on the table pulsed again, slow and steady. And then finally the heavy steel doors opened.
Three figures stepped inside, all stiff just like Van had described JK. Their boots clicked in perfect sync.
At the very front walked Chief Kim Seokjin.
He was tall and impeccably crisp, with not a single hair out of place on his head. The overhead lights caught the edge of his silver-rimmed glasses, casting a glare that completely masked his eyes, making him utterly unreadable.
It was clearly intentional.
His suit was darker than midnight itself, tailored razor-sharp at the shoulders, with lines so clean they could practically cut.
His shoes tapped against the concrete floor with a perfect, measured rhythm, each step echoing through the chamber like clock ticks counting down the seconds.
He didn't even bother to look at either agent as he approached them. He simply didn't need to. His presence alone was enough; it immediately commanded everyone's attention.
Trailing silently behind him were two senior operatives: the kind of men who had been molded by decades spent working in the shadows.
They carried scars they never spoke of and possessed gazes that rarely, if ever, blinked.
One of the senior operatives gave Jungkook a quick, sharp nod as they walked past him. It was a sign of recognition, showing they knew his rank and respected the routine. The other operative, however, didn't even bother to glance in Van's direction.
Not that it really mattered to Taehyung. He didn't need their acknowledgment, and he certainly didn't want it.
He stayed exactly where he was, still leaning back in his chair, looking completely unbothered. His legs were still stretched out as if the entire room, and everything in it, belonged to him.
As the footsteps of the approaching figures got closer, he slowly lifted one eyebrow and lazily chewed on the inside of his cheek. He looked much more bored than he did prepared for a briefing.
Jungkook, on the other hand, stood up the very moment Chief Jin stepped past the doorway. His back was perfectly straight, his hands were neatly at his sides, and his jaw was tight with pure discipline.
"Agent JK," Jin said with a brief nod then.
"Sir," JK replied immediately, his voice precise and perfect.
Jin's gaze then drifted across the table, finally settling on the shadowed figure lounging at the far end.
"Agent Van."
Taehyung blinked slowly, completely unmoved by the Chief's presence. His reply slid from his mouth like smoke, casual and almost disrespectful.
"You dragged me out of bed for this?"
One of the senior operatives immediately stiffened, his shoulders tightening with annoyance. That's not how they were supposed to talk with someone higher than them in rank.
But Jin simply raised a hand, his palm open and fingers slightly curled. It was a clear gesture of command. The room, it seemed, instantly obeyed his silent order.
"Sit up," Jin said. He didn't shout, not at all. But the sheer authority in his voice cracked through the air like a whip. "We're not here to play games."
Van let out a low, dramatic groan, but he finally pushed himself upright in his chair.
The chair scraped loudly against the polished floor with a slow, drawn-out screech, almost like a deliberate warning.
Taehyung just slouched even further forward, planting his elbows on the table and lazily balancing his chin on his knuckles.
He looked less like a highly trained agent and more like a bored prince simply waiting for someone to finally entertain him.
Jin stepped closer to the table and then, with a sharp movement, he dropped a matte-black folder right onto its surface. It slid forward, landing directly between Van and JK.
"No more solo missions," Jin announced, his voice flat and absolutely final.
"Not for either of you. You are both top-tier assets in this agency, and this isn't a request I'm making. This is a mandatory pairing advised by the government."
There was a noticeable heartbeat of silence that followed his words.
JK's eyes flicked quickly to Van, a brief, unreadable glance, and then went straight back to Jin. "With respect, sir," he began, his voice cool but very firm, "our styles simply don't match."
Van let out a low, amused sound, something that was almost a laugh, but not quite. "Well, that's one polite way to say I make you piss your pants, agent," he drawled, clearly enjoying the moment.
JK didn't flinch at all. He didn't even blink. "Sir, Agent Van is erratic," he continued, completely unfazed. “He consistently disobeys orders, he disregards standard protocol, and—"
"Still gets results," Van cut in smoothly, interrupting JK without even bothering to look up. He was casually plucking at a loose thread on his cuff. "More results, in fact, than you and your ten-step checklist ever could hope to achieve."
Bang.
Jin's open palm hit the table. It wasn't a hard hit, but it was loud enough. Just loud enough to make the entire room suddenly hold its breath.
"Enough," Jin's voice sliced through the space between them like a sharp blade. "I don't care if one of you runs hot and the other breathes ice. The success of this mission doesn't give a damn about your personal preferences, and frankly, neither do I."
"This isn't about personality conflicts," Jin continued. "It's entirely about outcomes. You are both officially under Eclipse Unit-Branch Sigma now. You don't have to like each other. You just have to get the job done, no matter what."
Van leaned back slowly in his chair, the ghost of a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. "Guess I'll have to babysit," he mumbled, sounding utterly resigned but with a hint of challenge.
JK didn't even blink. His response was immediate and unwavering. "Yes, sir."
The word "sir" landed between them like a sharp slap. Van's eyes narrowed, a clear sign of his irritation. He truly hated how easily JK said that word, "sir."
Van used that word as disrespect; JK didn't. It was as if it actually mattered, as if it truly meant something important. If he could, Van would absolutely kill that word.
Jin gave them both a long, very measured look. Then, he turned toward the large screen mounted on the wall.
The lights in the room dimmed slightly as he tapped something on his wrist console, and there was a soft, mechanical click. The screen immediately came to life with a quick flicker.
What appeared next were black-and-white images. They showed blurry figures moving through thick night fog, followed by grim scenes of charred remains, bodies burned down to just bone and shadow.
Then, the screen displayed satellite heat signatures pulsing over a desolate no-man's-land.
Jin's voice cut through the silence, low and grim. "This is Ghost Nest. It's a classified threat," he explained.
{GhostNet is the name given by researchers to an alerted situation.
"They have no digital fingerprints, no flags, and no known affiliations. But three of our own agents are dead because of them, and whoever this is..." He paused for a beat, letting the weight of his words sink in. "...they're just getting started."
The screen blinked once, then twice, before finally steadying into a grainy still image. It showed a facility, no bigger than a typical warehouse, buried deep in a nameless valley.
Jagged ridges of mountains carved through the surrounding fog like knives cutting through cotton, swallowing the entire building in deep shadows.
Jin stepped forward, his voice flat. "Their central base is believed to be at this location," he stated.
"Our target's codename is Elias Raeid. He's an escaped prisoner, a notorious war criminal, and a dangerous terrorist.
He used to be a tactical engineer for three organizations that are now blacklisted. He completely vanished five years ago until his arrest, but he resurfaced just two weeks back."
Van let out a low scoff at the information, one eyebrow lifting in his typical dismissive manner. "Sounds like your average politician," he drawled, a sarcastic remark.
The corner of Jin's mouth twitched ever so slightly, but he didn't take the bait or respond to the jab. He was simply too used to Van's sharp tongue by now.
JK, completely unmoved by Van's antics, kept his arms neatly folded behind his back. His gaze never once left the screen. "Visual confirmation?" he asked.
Jin double-tapped the console on his wrist.
The image on the screen zoomed in immediately. It was pixelated and raw, showing only a vague outline of a person standing near the building's side entrance.
The figure was blurry, barely looking human, more like a ghost in the void.
"That," Jin said, pointing a finger at the screen, "is the closest we've gotten to a clear shot. There are no clean images available. Their surveillance cameras are completely scrambled across four different satellite networks. All signals are either looped or wiped entirely." He paused then, his jaw tightening visibly.
"Whoever's in there knows exactly how to stay hidden."
JK's voice came out quiet but firm. "We'll definitely need a mirror frequency," he stated. "Something that can punch through their scramblers without alerting them to our presence."
Van, meanwhile, casually swung his legs up to rest them on the table, completely uncaring of the glares he earned from anyone watching.
"You're assuming they're just running basic tech," he drawled, a skeptical tone in his voice.
"What if they've got a cloaker? Or biological interference? Maybe even neural net blockers? I've definitely seen worse in deep territory operations."
"This isn't just basic tech, is it? It's layered. It's like they're hiding something big inside the facility, not just trying to keep people out." Jungkook joined in, expressing his concerns because some things didn’t make sense at all.
Van slowly lowered his feet from the table, and for a rare moment, something serious flickered in his expression. "Then we go in quiet," he said, his usual sarcasm gone.
JK nodded once, a clear sign of agreement.
For the very first time since they'd been paired, both agents actually sounded like they completely agreed on something.
Jin turned from the screen, facing them squarely now. "You leave at 0200," he instructed. "You'll touch base at the south drop point. The full intel package will be uploaded to your secure drives by midnight tonight. Although be ready to change plans any moment, we have no idea what we're dealing with."
A long silence stretched between the three of them, thick with the weight of the upcoming mission.
Jin turned fully now, the light from the screen catching the edge of his jaw like a sharpened blade. His voice was even, but it was colder this time, leaving absolutely no room for protest and no invitation for any questions.
Van leaned forward, now resting his forearms on the table. The movement was small but sharp. His fingers began tapping a rhythmic pattern: three short taps, one long, like a metronome with a slight limp.
"So we're going in blind," he observed, the serious expression still on his face.
Jin didn't flinch at the blunt statement. "For now," he confirmed.
He glanced at the display again, and his voice dropped just slightly, becoming even graver. "The facility's cold," he stated.
"There are no trades happening, no heat spikes, no energy surges. We're not even picking up any drone signals. There's not even wildlife in the vicinity."
The satellite feed blinked out, immediately replaced by something far closer. It was a photograph. It was a body. Burned to the bone.
The photograph showed a horrifying scene: limbs were tied behind the back, and ankles were twisted at completely unnatural angles.
The skin—what little was left—was peeled back in ribbons. The face was completely gone, and the neck was snapped so violently that the head hung almost upside down.
There was no blood in the photo, only scorched ground and charred black ash all around the body.
Worst of all, it was their agent. Agent Hanbin.
They just had dinner with him a week ago.
Van's smirk instantly vanished. His hands stilled, and his fingers, which had been tapping, went completely silent against the steel table.
JK didn't outwardly react at all, but something in his eyes narrowed, just slightly. It was like a lens sharpening on the very edge of something it truly didn't want to see.
"No projectile traces were found," Jin said quietly, his voice grim. "And there were no signs of chemical exposure either. This wasn't standard in any way."
"Looks like message work," Van muttered, his voice now hoarse with a rare seriousness.
"It was," Jin confirmed. He stepped back from the table, crossing his arms over his chest. "They left that body outside the perimeter line. Neither hidden nor buried. It was just... displayed. Like a flag meant to send a clear message."
The silence that followed had a heavy, thick shape to it, pressing down on everyone in the room.
JK exhaled once, slowly, through his nose. "Time of death?" he asked, his voice low.
Jin hesitated for a moment. "Eighteen hours ago," he finally revealed.
That information landed hard on both agents.
Van leaned back again in his chair, but the casual slouch was entirely gone. His spine now felt like a single, taut thread of tension, barely holding him together.
"So they know we're watching," he concluded, his voice tight.
"They want us to be afraid and to stop spying on them," Jin corrected him.
"But I don't think it's fear they're truly after." He let that thought hang in the air for a beat, letting it sink in.
"Suit up. Your loadout brief is in thirty minutes. Namjoon's already prepping the signal scramblers for you. You'll leave before sunrise." Jin turned to go, pausing at the door.
"And one more thing," he added, leaning closer, his eyes narrowing and voice dropping to a low, serious tone. Whatever's in there, it's not just tech. And it's not just them."
Jungkook sat up even straighter. This was Jin’s way of telling them that it might be a trap without actually saying the words. Because they knew they were being recorded every second.
Van interrupted him, his voice low but firm. "Was this really a message?"
Jin nodded once, a sharp and grim confirmation. "We think so. It's one of ours. There's been no movement in or out of the facility since then."
A heavy silence followed, thick and sharp, like a blade laid flat against skin.
Jungkook’s face stayed perfectly unreadable, every single muscle trained for absolute neutrality. But his jaw tensed, just a small, nearly imperceptible movement, except to someone who was actively looking for it.
Van's gaze flicked to JK just long enough to notice that slight tension, then immediately returned to the screen. His voice, when it finally came, was quieter than before and much steadier.
"And the prisoner?" he asked. "Elias Raeid. How the hell did he get out?"
It was one of the senior officials, standing behind Jin, who spoke this time. His voice was hoarse, as if he'd had to swallow too many difficult truths he couldn't quite accept.
"He escaped from an underground convoy en route to Felthorne Penitentiary," he explained, sliding a file across the table.
"Two guards were confirmed dead. One is still missing." He paused for a beat.
"His fingerprints were found at the wreck. But the escape route..." The man's voice trailed off slightly, sounding like it pained him to say the rest. "It looked... inside-assisted."
Van gave a low, slow, and mirthless whistle. He leaned back in his chair again, exhaling slowly through his nose as if he truly needed the air to clear the terrible stench of the situation. "Great," he muttered, sarcasm lacing his voice. "So not only are we hacking a ghost zone, we're chasing someone who absolutely shouldn't be alive."
The screen went dark again, and for a brief second, their own reflections stared back at them.
"He's alive," Jin said flatly. "And you're going to bring him in. Dead or alive, that's your call on site."
Van's smile returned, razor-sharp and all teeth. "Now that's more my style," he declared, a hint of dark satisfaction in his tone.
JK shifted slightly. "Sir, what's the timeline?" he asked, ever practical.
Jin turned, meeting JK's gaze head-on. "You fly out tonight or drive, whatever you need," he stated. "It'll be quiet transport. You'll have a three-hour window before your beacon becomes traceable. After that—" He paused, only briefly, for dramatic effect. "We see if the building breathes."
Van tilted his head, his voice low and serious. "And if it doesn't?"
Jin didn't blink. "Then make it happen," he stated, his voice firm and unwavering.
Jin stood there, his arms still crossed and his spine perfectly straight. His gaze swept slowly from Van to JK, as if he were carefully measuring something unseen between them.
"The two of you," he began, his voice calm but heavy with importance, "are, without a doubt, the strongest operatives in this entire nation's ranks. There's simply no debate about that."
JK didn't move at all. He didn't have to; he'd been told that before, many times. But never like this, not with such high stakes attached to the words.
Van, though, he slowly raised one eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with all the careless grace of someone who was truly born to break rules. A dry chuckle escaped him.
"Wow," he drawled, "that almost sounded like praise, coming from you."
Jin didn't take the bait. His voice cut cleanly through the moment, remaining absolutely unwavering.
"You're both ghosts," he continued, "assets and weapons this country doesn't publicly admit to having. And right now—" He tapped the table once. "—this country is under threat."
There was a short pause before Jin added, his voice quieter now but still very resonant and impactful, "This mission comes with government-level clearance, the highest kind. From today onward, you two are no longer operating as lone agents. You're being merged under one classified sub-unit, codename: Eclipse."
The room didn't move. The air itself seemed to be completely still, hanging heavy in anticipation.
JK finally looked up, his gaze locking with Jin's, completely unreadable. "Eclipse," he repeated, the word sounding like he was already running it through some kind of mental encryption process.
They'd been working under Branch Sigma for years now. They did solo missions too, and they'd even worked together now with 100% success rates of missions, but it always ended with them fighting and swearing to never work with each other ever again.
Across the table, Van leaned back even further in his chair with a long, slow, and very theatrical exhale, like someone had just informed him his luxury beachside villa vacation was suddenly canceled.
"Great," he grumbled. "Fancy name. Sounds like a boyband. Who came up with it, the President's secretary?"
There was the faintest twitch in Jin's jaw, almost imperceptible, but it clearly spoke volumes about his irritation. "You got a problem with the name, Van?" he asked, his tone now razor-thin and sharp.
Van didn't hesitate for a second. "I've got a problem with the plan itself," he said coolly, rolling his neck once as if the conversation were physically tiring him.
"I work alone for a reason. I don't like partners. Especially someone with the exact same rank as me. It slows me down, plain and simple."
The tension in the room shifted; it didn't get louder, but it definitely became much tighter.
"I understand Agent Van's hesitation," JK said, his eyes still locked forward on Jin.
"But working alone doesn't apply to this specific case. With AI walls protecting the target and a facility that can completely scramble satellite patterns, two hands simply aren't enough. Not this time."
"You hear that?" Jin cut in, a cold, hard edge forming at the corners of his mouth. "Even your partner agrees."
"Partner," Van repeated, like the word tasted like rust or something equally unpleasant in his mouth.
"He follows protocol like it's bedtime prayers. I act when shit truly hits the fan. We're going to clash, constantly."
It was true, and every single person knew that.
Jin took a slow step forward, closing the distance just enough that both agents straightened slightly in their chairs, even if they wouldn't ever admit it.
"And yet," he said, his voice lowered but very firm, "I'm still putting you two together. And I always listen to your shit. Do you know why?"
Van raised both eyebrows, feigning intrigue. "Enlighten me," he challenged.
Jin didn't wait to be asked again. "Because I've seen you drop seven bodies in four minutes with a dislocated shoulder." Jin's voice was flat, simply stating facts, like he was just listing the daily weather report.
"I've seen you take down an entire cartel unit without any backup, completely out of your jurisdiction, and still come back with every single goddamn file intact." He leaned in slightly, his shadow stretching dramatically over the table, his voice dropping even lower.
"And because as much as I absolutely hate your mouth, Van, you complete every fucking mission. Always. Agent JK here is brains, and you're every other body part."
Van blinked once. His lips twitched, just barely, into a small, almost unseen smile. "Aw. You're gonna make me blush," he teased, his voice light despite the grim topic.
"You're a pain in the ass," Jin snapped back, sharp enough to slice right through Van's growing smirk, "but you're our best. And Agent JK, he's the only one who can cover you without getting himself killed in the process."
At that, Van turned his head just a fraction. His eyes slid to JK, completely unreadable, measuring him carefully.
JK stood unmoving, his gaze fixed straight ahead. There was no reaction from him, no acknowledgment of Van's gaze.
"I expect Eclipse to function like one mind, one single strike," Jin continued, stepping back to reclaim the room's center. "Your egos stay in the locker room. Out there, you're weapons. Understood?"
JK answered immediately, his voice like flint, sharp and resolute. "Understood, sir."
Van didn't answer right away. He let the silence sit. He let it stretch long enough to make Jin's jaw twitch again, a clear sign of his impatience.
Then, finally—"Fine," Van grumbled, though his tone hinted at reluctant acceptance. "But don't blame me if his tactical plans get us caught mid-op."
Jin didn't even blink. "You follow his plans," he said firmly, turning back toward the screen as if he were already completely done with both of them, "or I'll strap you to a desk until the next solar eclipse."
Van tilted his head, and his grin, that familiar taunting one, slowly returned. "Is that a pun?" he asked playfully.
"Get out," Jin simply ordered, but it was not an order for him to take, just to show how much he irritated him.
For a moment, no one in the room moved at all.
Jin cleared his throat and tapped his tablet once. "These are the weapons you'll be issued for this operation," he announced. He turned slightly, one hand raised, as the gear rotated slowly beside him on the screen, each item clearly labeled in a clean, minimal font.
"You'll each get a Glock 19 with suppressors, one per person," he began. "They're lightweight, compact, and silenced. You should only use them if stealth completely fails."
JK gave a slight nod, acknowledging the instruction. Van didn't.
"You'll also receive combat knives with a black carbon finish, they're non-reflective," Jin continued. "You'll each carry two."
Van squinted at the screen, his head tilting faintly. He looked like he was already calculating exactly how long it would take to kill someone with those knives.
"We've also included a neuro-dart gun with tranquilizers in case the objective needs to be taken alive," Jin went on.
That particular detail finally earned a comment from Van. "Alive, huh?" he murmured, crossing his arms loosely as he leaned back again in his chair. "That's a rare request for us."
"If needed to be brought out alive, Van. Kill him if needed."
"You'll also receive a single micro-bomb per head, with detonation wrist-locked. This is a last resort. If you use it, you'll need to explain it in court."
Van let out a slow, impressed whistle, like someone being handed a particularly spicy menu in a restaurant.
Everyone knew Van would never listen to it. He'd use whichever gear he thought was perfect, and Jin would have to twist stories and cover for him in front of officials.
It had always been like that. Van does their dirty work and Jin covers for them in front of officials.
JK, meanwhile, remained completely silent. His eyes were fixed intently on the schematics as they spun and rotated on the display.
His stance didn't shift at all, but his focus visibly sharpened; it was like he was already memorizing the specs, angles, and potential access points for the mission.
"Sir," he said, "are the ID tags for the weapons synced to our biometric profiles?"
Jin's eyes flicked to JK, his expression unreadable. "They are," he confirmed. "And you'll also get portable retina scanners in case any access points are DNA-locked. Agent Van..."
Van looked up lazily from where he was lounging, his long legs stretched out and his fingers tapping a soft, rhythmic pattern on his thigh. "Yo," he replied casually.
"You'll be in charge of hacking the perimeter systems of the Eastern Block." Jin's voice sharpened, like steel being drawn over stone, becoming very precise.
"Our satellite networks suggest there will be a major blackout event within the next twenty-four hours. We think they're prepping to move something or someone important."
He tapped the screen again, and a new schematic blinked into view. Its edges were fuzzy, and the lines flickered due to heavy encryption.
The entire estate looked more like a fortress than a building, with thick shielding and underground vaults. There was clearly no easy way in.
"If it starts tonight, we'll need access to the gate's electrical nerve line before 0200 hours," Jin concluded.
Van finally sat up straighter, his limbs unfolding slowly. His fingers stopped tapping completely. His eyes flicked once to the schematic on the screen and then directly to Jin.
His voice dropped, becoming quieter but noticeably heavier with seriousness. "Noted, sir," he stated.
Jin gave Van a brief look, and something unreadable flickered in his eyes at the rare lack of sarcasm and the immense, unexpected respect.
But he didn't press for details; he just moved on, continuing with the briefing.
JK, who was standing even straighter than usual with his arms still crossed behind his back, stepped forward slightly. His jaw was noticeably tight. "How much backup assigned?" he asked directly.
A beat passed, and it felt long enough to be a warning in itself.
"No backups," Jin said, his voice low and heavy. "No recon teams. No field runners. No cleanup crew. It's just the two of you, and that's it."
The room suddenly felt much tighter, almost suffocating.
Van blinked once, slowly. "What?" he breathed out, the word sharp with disbelief. He loved going on missions, no doubt.
But it was so much more important to have backups, especially since you don’t know what happens when. Backups are a necessity and are also a compulsion for all the missions.
Jin exhaled hard through his nose, as if the immense weight of the mission had finally settled on him too.
"This came directly from the government," he explained, his voice strained.
"It's high-tier classified. The fewer people who know about it, the less chance there is of a leak. The risk is simply too high."
Taehyung scoffed, a dry and bitter sound, then leaned back into his chair with a distinct creak.
His jaw tensed as he tilted his head, his gaze cutting sideways toward Jungkook for a brief moment before swinging back to Jin.
"So what you're telling me is we're flying blind into a fortress," he stated, "with just each other as backup."
There was no humor in his voice this time, just a sharp edge of disbelief.
But his fingers tapped once against his thigh again, and this time it was sharper, like a complex code only he truly understood.
Jin didn't flinch. "I'm telling you that if either of you gets caught," he continued, his voice flat and unforgiving, "there's no one coming to pull you out. You simply disappear. No flags. No press. Not even a mention in my reports."
The words hit the room with the force of a pin drop in a bomb room. They were heavy, sharp, and absolutely final.
"Comforting," Taehyung muttered, but the sarcasm felt more like a deeply ingrained habit now than a genuine bite.
Jin looked at them again, slower this time. He wasn't trying to intimidate them or push them. Instead, it was like he was memorizing their faces, just in case he never saw them again.
"I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't believe you could do it," he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "But I'll be honest, I'm sorry. I argued hard against this, but they overruled me."
For the first time in the entire briefing, even Taehyung didn't reply.
He just looked away for a second, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek, his jaw working through something unspoken and difficult.
They had a job which risked their life every other day, he knew that. But deliberately putting their life into absolute danger was simply crazy.
It was Jungkook's voice that finally broke the quiet. "We'll get it done, sir," he stated, his tone firm and resolute.
Taehyung gave a half-snort, cracking a grin that held little warmth. "Yeah. Me and bedtime prayers over here? We'll make a great boyband," he quipped, still unable to resist a jab.
Jungkook side-eyed him, just barely, but the corners of his mouth twitched, betraying a hint of amusement he couldn't quite hide.
Jin shook his head slowly, looking like he was already regretting every life choice that had led him to this moment. "God help me," he murmured.