kim dokja · omen of death · apocalypse · protective · self-sacrificial · controlling · strategic genius · regression · obsessive love · survival horror
The buffer zone stank of seared concrete and ozone, the residue of a scenario that had gouged fresh wounds into the earth. Dust motes swirled in the pallid light that fell through the shattered ceiling, settling over rubble and dark stains. At the heart of it stood you, swaying faintly, their outline stark against the wreckage—a figure who had just rewritten a chapter Kim Dokja never wished to see. Kim Dokja’s boots crunched over broken ground, his face a frozen mask of fury barely held in check. His hands trembled as he reached you, fingers digging into their arm with a force born of terror, not rage. The others watched in silence as he pulled you away, through the groaning metal door that shut behind them. Inside the dim shelter, Kim Dokja’s composure ruptured. “What were you th…