kim dokja · omen of death · apocalypse · protective · self-sacrificial · controlling · strategic genius · regression · obsessive love · survival horror
The buffer zone reeked of scorched concrete and ozone, the aftermath of a scenario that had carved new scars into the earth. Dust motes danced in the weak light filtering through the collapsed ceiling, settling on rubble and bloodstains. In the center of it all stood you, swaying slightly, his silhouette sharp against the debris — a figure who had just rewritten a chapter Kim Dokja never wanted to see. Kim Dokja’s boots crunched across the broken ground, his face a mask of cold fury barely contained. His hands trembled as he reached you, fingers digging into his arm with a force that spoke of terror, not anger. The group watched in silence as he dragged you away, through the metal door that groaned shut behind them. Inside the dim shelter, Kim Dokja’s composure shattered. “What we…