The battle began. The Warlocks put forward their leader, Jae-Hwan; Red Pulse countered with their ace, Han-Ryeong, known in underground circles as "Electric Hands" for his lightning-fast plays.
The hum of the PCs filled the cramped room, a low, relentless growl beneath the crowd's anxious murmurs. Monitors glowed, reflecting in Jae-Hwan's eyes as he gripped his mouse and keyboard like extensions of his own body.
Across from him, Han-Ryeong smirked, fingers twitching over the keys with precision and speed that seemed inhuman. Protoss vs Terran. Aggression met strategy in a mirror-perfect clash.
Min stood behind his brother, jaw tight, hands clutching the edge of the table. Soo-Yeon leaned against the far wall, silent, dark eyes never leaving the screen. Every click, every unit movement told a story and she knew it. Min could feel her gaze, sharp and calculating, like a weight pressing on him.
"You call that micro?" Han-Ryeong's voice cut through the room, dripping with mockery. "Come on, Terran boy. Even my little cousin could dodge that."
Min's stomach churned. "Hyung… don't let him get in your head," he whispered.
Jae-Hwan couldn't hear him, but he felt Min's worried eyes on him. Calm yet focused, he scanned the battlefield, mind mapping every move. "Just… watch," he muttered to himself.
And then it began.
Jae-Hwan's fingers flew. Marines split with surgical precision. Drops hit the mineral lines just as Han-Ryeong pulled back his Corsairs. Tanks sieged in perfect positions. Every threat countered before it arrived.
"Look at those Marines! Hah! You call that splitting?" Han-Ryeong laughed, leaning back as if this were a casual game. "Terran so predictable. Always scared of Zealots."
The crowd tensed. A few cheered for the Warlocks; most stayed on the edges, watching, waiting. Red Pulse's red jackets were everywhere, smirking, leaning on tables, whispering into each other's ears.
Min's hands shook. "Hyung… you need a break…"
The crowd gasped. One misclick from either player could shift the match in seconds.
Min's heart hammered as he watched his brother micro like a machine, reacting before thought could catch up. Every command, every stim, every split was flawless—but it came at a cost.
Sweat blurred Jae-Hwan's vision. His hands shook. The keyboard and mouse grew impossibly heavy with each second.
"You're shaking! Are you scared?" Han-Ryeong shouted mid-game, watching his army tear into Jae-Hwan's Marines. "Pathetic! Can't even handle a little pressure!"
Min flinched. Soo-Yeon stiffened, eyes widening. The intensity, the yelling, the raw cruelty of it, it was too much. Her instincts screamed at her to leave.
"Hyung… you're pushing too hard…" Min muttered, voice shaking, as Jae-Hwan's hands blurred across the keys, APM soaring past anything humanly sustainable.
"For the Warlocks… for Mapo… for us," Jae-Hwan whispered, teeth gritted, eyes locked on the screen.
A wave of Zealots surged. Marines split instantly. Siege Tanks laid fire perfectly. Jae-Hwan counterattacked, dropping units into Han-Ryeong's mineral lines, workers destroyed before they knew what hit them.
The crowd erupted. Pride and terror twisted in Min's chest. Pride for his brother, terror at the strain etched into every line of his face.
"Hyung… please…" Min whispered.
APM climbed beyond human limits. Sweat burned Jae-Hwan's eyes. His chest tightened. Then one misclick—just one—and Han-Ryeong's Dragoons tore through his base. Supply crumbled. Buildings fell. Marines exploded in fire.
"No… no…" Min shouted, leaning over the chair, helpless.
Jae-Hwan froze. Fingers hovered midair. He gasped, then slumped sideways. His headset clattered to the floor. Silence swallowed the room—then Red Pulse erupted in cruel laughter.
"Pathetic," Han-Ryeong sneered, leaning back. "Even your big brother can't handle it. Losers."
Min dropped to his knees, cradling his brother's limp body. Tears burned his eyes. "Hyung… wake up… please…"
Soo-Yeon stumbled backward, hand over her mouth, eyes wide with fear. The violence, the raw intensity of what just happened—it was too much. Without a word, she fled into the shadows of Mapo's ruined streets.
Chan-Sik rushed forward, voice low and urgent. "Min… stay calm. Help is coming."
But Min couldn't hear him. All he could see was Jae-Hwan, lifeless in his arms, surrounded by the victorious jeers of Red Pulse.
The walls seemed to close in, the smoke and PC glow pressing down on him. This wasn't just a loss. This was a war Min hadn't been ready to fight—and the darkness had already crept into their world.