Chapter Text
The elevator rattled violently, metal groaning under some invisible weight. I.N. blinked against the harsh, flickering lights, his head pounding. There was nothing—just the hum of machinery, the cold steel walls, and a terrifying emptiness in his mind. He couldn’t remember how he got here. He couldn’t remember anything, really, except for one thing: his name. “I’m… I.N.,” he whispered, testing the sound of it. The echo bounced off the metal walls, a hollow companion to his fear. No one answered.
The elevator shuddered again, stopping abruptly with a metallic screech. The doors hissed open, and a rush of warm air hit his face. Beyond the threshold was a wide, open space, flooded with sunlight, a courtyard enclosed by impossibly high walls of cold stone and steel. The walls stretched far enough to disappear into the sky, casting shadows that made the place feel both immense and suffocating.
A group of boys emerged from the edges, their eyes sharp and alert, sizing him up. They were older than him—or maybe just bigger—but something in their movements suggested a practiced caution, as if they were trained for danger.
One of them, tall with precise posture and a gaze that never wavered, stepped forward. His hair was dark and neatly kept, and there was an intensity in the way he studied I.N., like he was calculating the threat this new arrival might pose. Lee Know, the others would later call him. “You,” Lee Know said, voice low but firm, “stand back. Don’t move until we know what you’re doing here.”
I.N. froze. His heart was hammering, but he raised his hands slightly, unsure if it was a surrender or a greeting. “I… I don’t know. I woke up in the elevator. I… I’m—I’m I.N.”
There was a pause. A tension that tightened like a wire in the air. Then another boy, shorter, with a more relaxed stance and a curious grin, stepped up. Han. “You’re new, huh?” Han said, eyes bright, voice carrying an easy confidence. “Don’t worry, we’ve got you. Name’s Han.”
Others emerged: Felix with his laid-back charm, Hyunjin moving like he owned every inch of the courtyard, Changbin with a quick, assessing glare, and Seungmin, who seemed to be cataloging everything quietly in his notebook-like mind.
Then, from the far side, a shadow detached itself from the sunlit wall. Chan. His frame was solid but calm, every movement measured, like a predator observing the perimeter. He didn’t speak at first, he didn’t need to. His eyes swept over I.N. once, twice, and the quiet weight of his stare made I.N. shrink back without meaning to. Lee Know didn’t lower his guard. He stayed in front, blocking I.N.’s path, arms folded. “We don’t just let anyone in,” he said, voice steady, deliberate. “You follow rules. You listen. You stay where you’re told. Understood?”
“I… yes,” I.N. said, though he wasn’t sure what he had agreed to.
Lee Know’s eyes softened just a fraction, not much, but enough for I.N. to notice. Chan shifted slightly, a silent acknowledgment, his presence a calm counterbalance to Lee Know’s tense authority. He didn’t smile. He didn’t reach out. He just watched, protective, and impossible to ignore.
Han, oblivious to the tension, offered a hand. “C’mon. Let’s get you up there.” He led I.N. toward a platform at the edge of the courtyard. I.N. glanced around: the walls were impossibly high, the gates locked, and beyond them, a faint rustling suggested movement of something not human. Anxiety clawed at his chest.
Lee Know followed closely behind, scanning I.N. with meticulous vigilance that was almost palpable. “Don’t touch anything,” he warned. “Don’t wander. Stay close.”
Chan walked silently to I.N.’s other side, a steady shadow to Lee Know’s sharper edges. “Watch your step,” he said softly, almost to the air rather than I.N., but his voice carried a weight that made I.N. nod instantly. There was no malice, just certainty—and the understanding that in this place, certainty was safety.
I.N. wanted to ask questions, to reach out, to understand anything—but he had nothing: no past, no memories, just this strange place and the people who inhabited it. As they reached the top of the platform, the courtyard seemed even larger, the walls stretching higher, shadows twisting like fingers. I.N. swallowed, trying to steady his breath.
“You’ll have to learn fast,” Lee Know said quietly, almost to himself. “Or you won’t survive.”
Chan’s gaze flicked to the horizon, where the walls met the sky. “And even if you survive,” he added, voice low, “you’ll need to keep your eyes open. Every second counts.”
The words were a warning. Not cruel, not unkind, just matter of fact. I.N. shivered. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a tiny spark of determination lit. He didn’t know what this place was, or why he was here, but he would figure it out. And he would survive. The Plate, as they called it, was just the beginning.