Hannes’ words spike tension, the atmosphere turning as brittle as ice. It’s inexplicably hard to breathe, the air curdling like black miasma and made even frostier with the colonel’s gaze. Yang Rong doesn’t look upset nor angry at all, except his calm expression is even more eerily chilling. There’s pleasantry in the way he carries himself; still, his smile is resigned. He sits atop a steel cabinet, leaning against the wall like nothing bothers him.

“I am a colonel. I receive and execute orders, is all.”

“You are a puppet,” Hannes says. “We are all puppets but you especially are bound to this for life, whether you like it or not.”

“When has anyone joined the military because they like it?” Yang Rong raises an eyebrow. “Hannes, tell me if the world is in such a state that we can live freely.”

“We joined because we applied voluntarily,” the older man replies. “You joined out of obligation.”

“It’s a moral obligation. A utilitarian sacrifice, if you will. My freedom is a small sacrifice for the greater good – this is policy.”

“I am selfish, Yang Rong. I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.” Hannes, the compulsive smoker, opens the uppermost drawer and pulls out a cigarette box. “Dying for the sake of humanity is not my way to go. I don’t give a rat’s ass about strangers dying in front of me. If between a friend or one hundred others, I’d choose the former, no hesitation. And you? You’d do the direct opposite.”

The colonel asks, “Is that wrong?”

“No!” Hannes stresses the syllable. He gestures wildly with his hands, trying to prove a point. “It is because it is not wrong. Yang Rong, you are never wrong logically but you…! Let me ask, if you can save either me or a bunch of rascals outside the ditch somewhere, what would it be?”

“An interesting moral dilemma.” Yang Rong plays with the watch on his wrist, turning the crown back and forth but not adjusting the time. “I would weigh my decision accordingly. From the number of people in that ditch to their occupation, their potential and their future prospects, not disregarding the means of reproduction and possible advances to science and technology. Then I would conduct a supplementary performance measure – namely, which group performs better, you or them, and then allocate the city’s resources to—"

“You are judging me on Darwinian theory and I’ve known you for almost five years.” Hannes sighs ruefully. “It is hopeless, Rong Rong, and I thought of you as a friend…”

“Then let me ask you this,” Yang Rong doesn’t address only the sergeant, but the entirety of the squad, “Hannes, Jiayun, Yoo Seok and Jae, the survival rate of my men is five percent, rounded up. Why have you joined?”

Hannes answers first, “Five years of military service under you, and we’d be game for the rest of our lives. We’d live luxuriously in the city for free and we’d be away from all the blood and gore out here. Who wouldn’t want that?”

Li Jiayun answers slowly, “The benefits are covered.”

“It didn’t matter to me who I joined,” Yoo Seok decides to respond after some time. “My placement exams indicated that my skillset matches that of a soldier, and I randomized my squad pick.”

Jae says softly, “I followed hyung.”

Yang Rong jumps off the cabinet and lands gracefully on his feet. He still wears his dog tag even while out of uniform. The metal beads clink against each other in movement. “In the end, you each have your purposes. We are comrades in arms, but none of us are friends.”

Hannes looks at him, perplexed. “Meaning?”

“Meaning now and in the future, we should not form close ties, else the parting will be unnecessarily emotional.” Yang Rong juts his chin toward the other side of the room, where Noah still remains lifeless. “Now… We’ve ventured off topic. In fact, there is a question I want answered.”

“I…do suppose there are many questions we want answered, Colonel,” Li Jiayun pipes up. “Provided he would answer any of them.”

“Afraid to get your hands dirty, Yang Rong?” Hannes lights up a cigarette and dangles it between his teeth.

“He won’t talk through torture,” the colonel replies. “The willful person he is, he’d die before spilling. Before caring about what he is, I want to know why he was at the Nordak and where his destination was. What do you all think?”

“There is nothing at the Nordak except for heavily mutated organisms,” Li Jiayun answers. “The area has long been closed off. Even an outsider would know not to head there by the amount of quarantine and no entry signs all over the perimeter.”

“Well, there isn’t an outsider sane enough to go out alone in broad daylight in the first place. You might as well be placing a free kill bounty on your head.” Hannes adds on, “And that place? Heavy snowstorms, frigid temperatures, lack of sight – you think the pretty boy’s suicidal?”

“Not a bad conjecture, but I doubt it.” Yang Rong says, “There’s nothing in the Nordak a common civilian should know about, at least. A place undisclosed, an uninhabited mountain, a certain area only a select few know about…”

He trails off. Then, upon sensing movement to his left, he turns and smiles at Noah, “You were heading for the gene bank?”

Noah recovered some color in his face and now looks to be in a considerably better mood. He pokes a hole into the juice box and tugs the straw between his teeth. He takes a few sips before replying, uncharacteristically cooperative, “…Mn, I was.”

Even Yang Rong looks surprised. “I wasn’t expecting for you to admit it.”

Noah blinks at him. “If your intelligence were a tad higher, you would’ve been able to figure it out days ago. Need me to confirm it once more?”

“…Nothing pleasant comes out of that mouth of yours.” Yang Rong actively tries to not be provoked. It’s not working well. His facial muscles are twitching. “I’ve figured it out a while back, but I am still pondering over why you’re headed to a biorepository. Have I mentioned it is confidential?”

“Many times.”

“And you are aware that it is a heavily regulated depot?”

“Very much so.”

“And you are aware,” Yang Rong stares at him, “that in that controlled environment, any unauthorized intruders, human or not, will be shot on the spot?”

“…It is an issue,” Noah murmurs, lost in thought. He’s still sucking on the straw of the juice box, seems to be enjoying himself too, like the tropical fruit blend is a godsend. He looks a little childish, eyes half-lidded and hair more fluffed than usual from lethargy. Yang Rong stares for far too long, focusing on the wrong things such as his slender fingers, well-trimmed nails, his face, the way his lips are slightly jutted out, licking kittenishly at the straw and that one drop of liquid left – and is that a small mole right there? The spot below the full of his lips, in between the corner and teardrop, that little dip—

“—Colonel Yang, will you take me to the gene bank?”

Yang Rong replies, eloquently, “What?”

“I am extending a request.” Noah tilts his head a little. There’s definitely more he wants to say on the tip of his tongue, but he stops and busies himself with unwrapping a piece of chocolate. He’s left the raisins untouched.

“You think I will agree to take you to the gene bank?” Yang Rong snaps himself out of unknown trance. “Do you understand your position?”

“You are heading there regardless,” the young man says, full of certainty. “It wouldn’t be a problem to take an extra along.”

“On the contrary, it is very problematic,” the colonel says. He walks closer toward him, settling only a meter away. “What you are asking is if I will bring you, a suspected anomaly, into a highly classified, government-protected repository with decades of preserved genetic material. Isn’t that a farfetched request, little prisoner?”

Noah’s expression is complicated for once. His eyes are downcast, staring at the half-eaten chocolate in his hands. “I…will not cause trouble.”

“It will take a little more to convince me,” Yang Rong says, placing both hands on the table and leaning forward, deliberately intruding on his personal space. He gives little room to escape. “The answer is still a hard negative, but you can start by telling me what exactly you’re planning to do.”

“…Sightseeing.”

The colonel raises one cynical brow.

Noah coughs softly and says, in the weakest voice he can muster, “I read about it in a book and it stayed with me since. I’ve always dreamed of going inside one.”

“…Noah,” Yang Rong is almost speechless, “do you think you can convince me if you act cute?”

“Then how can I convince you, Yang Rong?” Noah is adamant to stay out of character, desperately hoping that his act is so off-putting that the colonel would take him along, just so he’d stop. “Would you prefer I call you Rong-ge?”

An amused snort comes from the side before Hannes starts guffawing, his face turning so red his circulation might cut off. “The kid… ha…has got some technique… haha!”

Even Jae and Li Jiayun had turned around so they wouldn’t be caught laughing at their colonel’s current predicament. At least the two have tact, but their shoulders are shaking from holding back. There’s faint interest in Yoo Seok’s eyes and he sits there watching the show.

“Sightseeing…” Yang Rong recovers immediately and leans forward even more, his green eyes curving up predatorily. “Perchance I can allow it, but hm, you have made quite the mess of my plans. If you weren’t this disobedient for trying to escape, putting a knife to my neck, refusing to cooperate, nearly impaling old Hannes’ face, wasting the shelter’s hot water, making a mess of our dining area and kicking up a fuss during dinnertime, eating our month’s storage of sweets instead of my well-prepared meal, then I might just believe your little act, Noah.”

He did not stutter even once, and Noah matches him in kind.

“It is my mistake, Colonel,” he says with every ounce of professionalism. “I am often in a poor mood when I wake up. We should put the past few days behind us and start anew. I will also dismiss that you’ve kidnapped and held me against my will.”

“Are you in a position to negotiate with me?” Yang Rong smiles.

Noah’s defiant eyes make it clear he would rather sock the man in the face and run off. He might’ve cursed under his breath. Instead, he replies, “I am at your mercy.”

For such an arrogant alpha, of course Yang Rong would take the initiative to steer the conversation to stroke his own ego.

“At my mercy?” The man curves his lips. “It has a good ring to it. Then you’re willing to do as I say?”

“…Mn.”

Yang Rong snaps his fingers as if he’d remembered something important. “You can start by begging me—”

“Then I’m begging you,” he says, completely deadpan.

“Next, how about you apologize—”

“I apologize.”

“Now say it cutely, ‘Rong-ge, I was wrong. I won’t try to escape and will be obedient on my way to the Nexus.’”

“…Colonel Yang, I was wrong,” he repeats. “I won’t try to escape and will be obedient on my way to the gene bank.”

“Now try calling me ‘daddy’ instead.”

“…” Noah doesn’t. “I will agree to go to the city after I go to the gene bank.”

Yang Rong is a little resigned. “You are really adamant, aren’t you?”

The colonel’s pensive eyes study him from head to toe. He might be listening to the sound of his pulse, his breathing, each inhale and exhale, looking for any indication of nervousness. Noah allows the scrutiny without a word.

It’s unclear what the colonel is thinking. The silence is chilling. He then puts one hand on the back of Noah’s chair and the other on the edge of the steel table, a move made so naturally it would even slide off as friendly if it weren’t for how imposing he looks, trapping the smaller man in between.

After a long while, the man says, “Alright.”

Noah was really prepared to be rejected, so his expression when told otherwise is quite cute – eyes wider than usual, mouth slightly parted, then there’s disbelief and relief all in one, followed by maybe a small smile, the slightest curve of his lips. Yang Rong hadn’t seen it before, but the young man is even prettier when he’s happy.

Then the smile turns sly and Noah reaches across the table, takes the leftover pack of raisins and hands it to him.

“Good talk, Colonel,” he says. “To conclude our negotiation, I will return this.”