A sliver of hope finally arrived after days of despair. Namjoon’s phone buzzed late one evening with an anonymous tip—an address in a remote area of the city where Hana was supposedly being held. It wasn’t much, and the source was dubious, but it was the first solid lead they had received since Hana’s disappearance.

The penthouse erupted into action. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. They had already wasted too much time, and every second counted. Namjoon, always the strategist, quickly devised a plan. The boys suited up, their faces set in grim determination. This was their last chance, and they couldn’t afford to fail.

Jungkook and Taehyung, the youngest but fiercest, were especially tense, their minds focused solely on getting Hana back. Jimin, usually the one to keep everyone calm, was barely keeping his composure, the strain of the past week evident in his eyes. Yoongi, Jin, and Hobi were quieter, but the intensity in their expressions spoke volumes. They were ready to do whatever it took.

As they approached the location—a dilapidated warehouse on the outskirts of the city—the tension in the car was palpable. Each of them was silently praying that this wasn’t another dead end, that they would find Hana alive.

Namjoon parked a few blocks away, and they moved in on foot, their movements swift and coordinated. They had done this countless times before, but this time, the stakes were higher. This wasn’t just about a mission or territory; this was about Hana.

The warehouse was heavily guarded, but the boys moved like shadows, taking down the guards with practiced ease. Their hearts pounded as they approached the entrance, the fear of what they might find clawing at them. But there was no time to think, no time to hesitate. They had to save her.

Hana was barely conscious. The torture had taken its toll, and her body felt like it was on the brink of collapse. She could no longer tell how many days had passed since she was taken. The pain, hunger, and fear had all blurred together into one endless nightmare.

She was lying on the cold concrete floor, her body trembling uncontrollably from the pain and the cold. Her vision was blurry, and her thoughts were slow and fragmented. She knew she was close to breaking, close to giving up. But she couldn’t—not yet. She had to hold on, just a little longer.

The sound of gunfire and shouting barely registered in her mind. It was distant, almost like a dream. But then she heard voices—familiar voices, and something inside her stirred. Could it be them? Were they really here?

She tried to lift her head, but her body was too weak. Tears filled her eyes as she realized that she might never see them again, might never feel their arms around her, keeping her safe.

Inside the warehouse, the boys moved with deadly precision, taking down the remaining guards and making their way through the dimly lit corridors. The place was a maze of rooms and hallways, each one more decrepit than the last. But they didn’t stop, didn’t waver. They could feel that Hana was close.

Jungkook was the first to hear her, a faint, pained whimper coming from one of the rooms at the end of the hallway. His heart nearly stopped, and he broke into a run, the others close behind him. He kicked the door open, and there she was—lying on the floor, barely conscious.

“Hana!” Jungkook’s voice was a mixture of relief and panic as he dropped to his knees beside her. The sight of her battered and bruised body sent a wave of rage and sorrow crashing over him. The others crowded around her, their faces pale with fear and worry.

“Hana, it’s us. We’re here,” Namjoon said, his voice cracking as he gently cradled her head in his hands. “You’re safe now.”

Jin, the trained doctor among them, quickly took charge, assessing her injuries with a clinical eye even as his heart broke at the sight of her. “We need to get her out of here now,” he said urgently, his hands shaking as he checked her pulse.

As they lifted Hana, she barely stirred, her body limp in their arms. Jin’s face was grim as he realized how weak she was. They needed to get her home, to safety, as quickly as possible.

But just as they were about to leave, a figure appeared in the doorway—the head of the rival gang. He had a cruel smile on his face, his eyes gleaming with malice.

“You’re too late,” he sneered, but before he could say anything else, Yoongi stepped forward and fired, the bullet hitting its mark with lethal precision. The man crumpled to the ground, his smile frozen in place.

“We’re not too late,” Yoongi muttered, his voice cold as ice. “Not for her.”

With the threat neutralized, they quickly made their way out of the warehouse, Hana held securely in Jin’s arms. The ride back to the penthouse was tense and silent, each of them praying that she would hold on, that she wouldn’t slip away before they could save her.

The moment they arrived at the penthouse, Jin sprang into action, directing the others as they gently placed Hana on her bed. He gathered his medical supplies, his hands moving with practiced speed, but his heart was pounding in his chest. This was different—this was Hana, and the fear of losing her was almost too much to bear.

The others hovered nearby, their faces etched with worry as they watched Jin work. Taehyung stood by the bed, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes red-rimmed with unshed tears. Jungkook sat on the edge of the bed, holding Hana’s hand, his thumb gently stroking her skin as if he could will her back to health.

“She’s going to be okay,” Jin said, more to reassure himself than the others. He carefully cleaned and bandaged her wounds, his heart breaking with each new injury he uncovered. She was so strong, so resilient, but the toll of the past week was evident in every bruise, every cut.

Hana stirred slightly as Jin worked, a faint groan escaping her lips. Her eyelids fluttered, and for a moment, she seemed to be coming around.

“Hana, can you hear me?” Jin asked softly, his voice thick with emotion.

Her eyes slowly opened, and she blinked up at him, her vision blurry. It took her a moment to realize where she was, to recognize the faces around her. When she did, a single tear slipped down her cheek.

“Jin…” she whispered, her voice hoarse and weak.

“I’m here, Hana,” Jin said, his voice shaking. “We’re all here. You’re safe now.”

She tried to smile, but the effort was too much. Her body was too weak, too exhausted. But she was safe, and that was all that mattered.

As Jin finished treating her injuries, he gently pulled the blanket up to her chin, tucking her in as if she were a fragile doll. “You need to rest now, okay?” he said softly. “You’re going to be fine.”

The others gathered around the bed, their relief palpable as they watched Hana drift back into unconsciousness, this time into a much-needed healing sleep.

But even as they tried to find comfort in the fact that she was finally home, the fear lingered. They had almost lost her, and the thought of what could have happened, of what she had endured, was too much to bear.

“We’ll take turns watching her,” Namjoon said, his voice resolute. “We’re not leaving her side until she’s fully recovered.”

They all nodded in agreement, silently vowing to protect her, to keep her safe no matter what.

As the night wore on, the boys took turns sitting by Hana’s side, keeping a silent vigil. Jungkook had fallen asleep beside her, his head resting on the bed, his hand still holding hers. Taehyung and Jimin sat nearby, their eyes fixed on her sleeping form, as if afraid that if they looked away, she might disappear.

Yoongi, Hobi, and Namjoon stood by the window, talking in low voices about what had happened, about how they would make sure nothing like this ever happened again. Jin stayed close to Hana, his heart breaking every time she whimpered in her sleep, every time her body shivered with pain.

But as the hours passed, Hana’s breathing began to steady, her color slowly returning. The bruises and cuts would heal, but they all knew that the emotional scars would take much longer to mend.

And yet, despite everything, there was a sense of relief, of hope. They had found her. They had brought her home. And now, they would do everything in their power to make sure she was safe, to help her heal, and to show her how much she meant to them.

As dawn broke, casting a soft light over the penthouse, they all gathered around Hana’s bed, their faces lined with exhaustion but filled with determination. They had been given a second chance, and they weren’t going to waste it.

Hana was safe, and that was all that mattered. The rest, they would figure out together.