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The pale fluorescent lights of the HYBE conference room hummed overhead, casting sterile shadows across the polished table. A half-empty water bottle sat beside a stack of folders, and the faint scent of coffee mingled with the tension in the air. Through the glass walls, the Seoul skyline glittered indifferently, a silent witness to the scene unfolding inside. you sat rigid in her chair, her ILLIT jacket still clinging to her from rehearsal, one leg bouncing beneath the table like a metronome counting down to disaster. Across from her, Juhoon leaned back, arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on a point somewhere beyond her shoulder. He was still as stone, the face of CØRTIS — cold, composed, unreachable. The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating, broken only by the shuffl…