Chapter 5: Fractured Winds

..."I laugh with the world, but the wind knows how often I scream into silence." — Sehun...

It was the quiet moments that hurt the most.

Not the loud stages, not the blinding cameras, not the cheering fans—those were distractions. Beautiful, painful distractions. But the silence? That’s where the ghosts lived.

Sehun stood on the rooftop of his apartment building, the wind brushing past him like an old friend with a thousand secrets. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting it comb through his hair, pull at his clothes, whisper through his ears.

No one else could hear what the wind said.

But he could.

He always had.

The memories were a blur. Sometimes they came in flashes, sometimes in dreams. But lately, they’d been showing up with cruel clarity—like old photographs dredged up from a drawer he never wanted to open.

Him. Jongin. Luhan. The laughter. The training rooms. The way they once fought over bubble tea or whose turn it was to choose the choreography.

But then came the screaming. The falling. The fracture.

He didn’t understand it at first—why birds fell from the sky when he cried, or why leaves twisted unnaturally when his temper flared. He blamed it on stress. On burnout. On being left behind.

But deep down, the truth lingered like a storm cloud.

He wasn’t normal. He was never meant to be.

Three nights ago, everything changed.

He was walking home from a late shoot, hoodie up, earbuds in, trying to forget his face was plastered on billboards and screens he no longer cared about. Then came the sound—sharp, metallic, otherworldly.

The sky split.

Not metaphorically. Literally.

A crack of red lightning tore across the night sky, and suddenly, he was surrounded. Three figures cloaked in darkness, their energy pulsing like poison.

“Found him,” one of them hissed. “The Wind.”

Before Sehun could react, a blast of red force hit his chest, sending him crashing into a parked car. Pain exploded across his ribs, but instinct kicked in. Wind swirled violently around him, lifting him before he even realized what he was doing.

Another blast came. He dodged. Then he flew.

It wasn’t like the movies. There were no graceful wings, no hero poses. It was chaos—raw, untamed wind carrying him like a cyclone across Seoul’s skyline. But for the first time in years, he felt alive.

And the wind? It sang to him. Not with words, but with urgency.

“Run. Hide. Remember.”

He did exactly that.

Now, on this rooftop, Sehun was waiting.

Not hiding. Waiting.

The wind had told him something more tonight. Someone was coming. Someone who remembered him. Someone like him.

He didn't know who—but the breeze was warm. Familiar.

And then, like a promise kept, two silhouettes emerged from the night mist. One walked with calm authority. The other, with a dancer’s grace.

Suho and Lay.

Sehun's chest tightened. His legs moved before his thoughts did.

He ran—straight into Suho’s arms.

The hug was awkward, tight, long overdue. Suho held him like a brother who never stopped searching. Lay stood beside them, eyes glinting with emotion.

“You’re okay,” Suho whispered.

Sehun swallowed hard. “You came.”

“Of course,” Lay said softly. “You’re one of us.”

Sehun pulled back slightly, his voice cracking. “I thought… I thought I was crazy.”

“You’re not,” Suho said. “You’re awakening. Like us.”

Lay stepped closer and placed a gentle hand over Sehun’s chest. “Can I?” he asked.

Sehun nodded.

A glow spread from Lay’s hand, and warmth radiated through Sehun’s ribs. The pain faded instantly, and Sehun gasped.

“Your heart's been fighting alone for too long,” Lay murmured. “But not anymore.”

They moved inside his apartment—a minimalist space with black leather, city lights, and silent photos of another life.

Suho handed him a small device. “Old EXO tech. It still works. Kai, Chanyeol, Baekhyun—Kyungsoo’s already made contact with them. We're regathering.”

Sehun’s jaw clenched. “And Luhan?”

Lay nodded. “Alive. Powerful.”

Sehun sat heavily on the couch. “This feels like a dream.”

Suho gave him a rare, tired smile. “It’s not. The Red Force has returned. We’ve already fought one of them.”

“I did too,” Sehun said. “But I didn’t win. I ran.”

Suho shook his head. “You survived. That’s enough.”

Later that night, Sehun stood again on the rooftop, now joined by Suho and Lay.

“Do you remember when we first trained together?” Suho asked.

Sehun smiled faintly. “You used to lecture me every five minutes.”

“Still do,” Suho said.

Lay chuckled. “You were the most stubborn.”

“Still am.”

Silence.

Then Sehun turned to them, eyes serious. “When this all ended… when we fell apart… I didn’t just lose my group. I lost my family.”

Lay touched his shoulder. “Then let’s rebuild it. Together.”

Sehun stared out at the night sky, the stars flickering like old lights waiting to be turned back on.

“Where to next?” he asked.

Suho exhaled. “Busan. Baekhyun’s there. And he’s not hiding anymore.”

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