The scene descended into pure, surreal chaos. Rinwoo was lost to the world, his body curled on the floor, his forehead pressed against the cold wood as his shoulders shook with silent, hysterical tremors. Incoherent, broken words spilled from his lips, a whispered litany of betrayal and pain. He was unreachable, a vessel overflowing with a anguish so potent it was warping reality itself.
"Rinwoo! Rinwoo, look at me!" Eunjae pleaded, trying to shake him, but Rinwoo was insensate, trapped in his own private hell. Eunjae's eyes darted around the room in terror as the levitating knives, scissors, and shards of glass vibrated with a high-pitched, deadly hum. They were no longer just hovering; they were taking aim.
"Eunjae, move! Get away from him!" Daon yelled, his own fear evident as he tried to pull his husband back from the epicenter of the storm. But Eunjae, in his panic for Rinwoo, refused to let go.
