The practice room echoed with the rhythm of footsteps and the thud of bass reverberating through the speakers. Sweat glistened on Jungkook's forehead as he moved in sync with the others, every beat sharp, every motion precise. They had been rehearsing for hours, preparing for the next album — another masterpiece, another tour, another chance to meet ARMY.
"Five more minutes," Namjoon called, his voice steady but tired. "Let's run it again."
Jimin laughed breathlessly, brushing damp hair from his eyes. "Hyung, you're going to kill us."
"Better me than the fans," Namjoon teased, though his smile was faint.
The music started again. Seven bodies moved as one, the choreography flowing like water, their voices blending in harmony. For a moment, the world outside didn't exist. It was just them, their craft, their bond.
Then — the speakers crackled.
The music cut off mid-beat, replaced by a shrill alarm tone. The members froze, exchanging confused glances.
"Emergency Alert," a voice blared, distorted and trembling. "Citizens are advised to remain indoors. Do not approach infected individuals. Repeat — do not approach—"
Static swallowed the rest.
Silence fell.
"What the hell was that?" Yoongi muttered, wiping sweat from his brow.
Seokjin frowned, his usual humor absent. "Emergency broadcast… but infected? What does that even mean?"
Before anyone could answer, a scream pierced the air.
It came from the hallway outside the practice room. The members rushed to the door, flinging it open.
Chaos.
Staff members were running, their faces pale, their voices frantic. One of the stylists stumbled, clutching her arm, blood streaming between her fingers. Behind her, a figure lurched forward — one of the crew, but his movements were wrong, jerky, his eyes clouded. He lunged, teeth sinking into her shoulder.
Her scream echoed through the building.
Hoseok staggered back, horror etched across his face. "No… no, no, no…"
The infected crew member tore into her flesh, blood spraying across the floor. Another staff member tried to pull him away, but he turned, snarling, sinking his teeth into her neck.
The hallway erupted in chaos. People screamed, shoved, fled. The infected moved with unnatural hunger, tearing into anyone they could reach.
Jungkook's chest heaved, his fists clenched. "We have to help them!"
Namjoon grabbed his arm. "No. Look at them. They're not… they're not human anymore."
Jungkook's eyes widened, his breath catching. He wanted to deny it, but the truth was in front of him — their staff, their friends, their family in this industry, being ripped apart by something monstrous.
Seokjin's voice broke. "We can't just stand here!"
Yoongi's jaw tightened. "If we go out there, we die too."
The infected turned, their eyes locking on the group. Growls echoed down the hallway.
Namjoon's mind raced. He had seconds to decide.
"Inside!" he barked. "Barricade the door!"
The members stumbled back into the practice room. Jungkook slammed the door shut, Taehyung shoved a speaker against it, Jimin dragged a table across. The pounding began immediately — fists, claws, teeth against wood.
The room shook with every blow.
Hoseok pressed his back against the wall, his breath ragged. "What's happening? What is this?"
Namjoon forced himself to stay calm, though his heart thundered. "I don't know. But we can't stay here. If they break through, we're trapped."
Yoongi's eyes narrowed. "So what's the plan, leader?"
Namjoon swallowed hard. He had always been their leader — guiding them through music, through tours, through the weight of fame. But this was different. This wasn't choreography or lyrics. This was survival.
"We need weapons," he said firmly. "Anything we can use. Pipes, sticks, whatever."
Jungkook grabbed a metal rod from the corner, his grip tight. "Got it."
Taehyung picked up a broken mic stand, testing its weight. "This will do."
Seokjin armed himself with a chair leg, Jimin with a broom handle, Hoseok with a heavy lamp. Yoongi simply pulled a knife from his bag — one he always carried, just in case.
Namjoon looked at them, his chest heavy. They were idols, artists, brothers. Now, they were soldiers.
"We move together," he said. "No one gets left behind. We find a safe place, regroup, and figure out what's happening. If we split up, we die."
The pounding grew louder. The door cracked.
Jungkook's knuckles whitened around the rod. "Then let's go."
Namjoon nodded, his voice steady despite the fear clawing at him. "On my mark."
The door splintered.
"Now!"
The door splintered with a deafening crack. A pale hand shot through the gap, clawing at the air. The members froze for a heartbeat, the sound of growls and snarls filling the practice room.
"Now!" Namjoon barked.
Jungkook swung the metal rod with all his strength, smashing the hand back through the door. Taehyung shoved the speaker aside, and the group surged forward as one, bursting into the hallway.
The sight that greeted them was hell itself.
The once-familiar corridors of their studio were painted in blood. Staff members lay crumpled on the floor, their bodies twitching, their eyes clouded. Others staggered upright, jaws snapping, their movements jerky and wrong. The air reeked of iron and rot.
"Go, go, go!" Namjoon shouted, pushing them forward.
They ran, feet pounding against the floor, hearts hammering in their chests. But the infected were faster than they expected. A figure lunged from the side, teeth bared. Jungkook swung his rod, the crack of bone echoing as the creature collapsed.
Hoseok screamed, stumbling back. Another infected lunged at him, and he froze, his weapon — the lamp — slipping from his hands.
"Hobi!" Jimin cried, shoving him aside just in time. The infected crashed into the wall, snarling. Taehyung swung his mic stand, the metal connecting with its skull. Blood sprayed across the floor.
Hoseok's chest heaved, his eyes wide with terror. "I—I can't— I don't know how—"
"Pick it up!" Yoongi snapped, his voice sharp. "If you don't fight, you die."
Seokjin's hands shook as he gripped the chair leg. Another infected stumbled toward him, its mouth open wide. He swung weakly, the wood glancing off its shoulder. The creature snarled, lunging closer.
"Hyung!" Jungkook shouted, rushing forward. He slammed his rod into the infected's head, sending it crashing to the ground. He turned to Jin, his eyes fierce. "You have to hit harder. Don't hesitate!"
Jin's face was pale, his breath ragged. "I—I can't… they were our staff…"
"They're not anymore!" Jungkook snapped, his voice breaking. "They're gone!"
Namjoon grabbed Jin's shoulder, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Listen to me. If you don't fight, we all die. Do you understand?"
Jin swallowed hard, tears brimming in his eyes. He nodded shakily, gripping the chair leg tighter.
The group pushed forward, every step a battle. Yoongi moved with cold precision, his knife flashing as he struck. Taehyung fought with raw fury, his swings wild but effective. Jungkook was relentless, his rod smashing bone and flesh with terrifying strength.
But Hoseok and Jin lagged behind, their fear slowing them. Hoseok's hands trembled so badly he could barely hold the lamp. Jin flinched with every strike, his blows weak, his eyes filled with horror.
Namjoon stayed close to them, his voice steady despite the chaos. "Stay together. Don't look at their faces. Just swing. Survive."
They burst through the stairwell doors, the sound of growls echoing behind them. The stairs were littered with bodies, some twitching, some still. The group stumbled down, their breaths ragged, their weapons slick with blood.
At the bottom, the lobby was a nightmare. Dozens of infected staggered through the shattered glass doors, their growls filling the air.
The members froze.
"There's too many," Jimin whispered, his voice trembling.
Namjoon's jaw tightened. "We don't stop. We push through. Together."
The infected turned, their eyes locking on the group. Then they charged.
"Now!" Namjoon roared.
The lobby erupted into chaos. Jungkook swung his rod, the crack of bone echoing. Taehyung slammed his mic stand into another, his face twisted with fury. Yoongi's knife flashed, precise and deadly.
But Hoseok screamed as one lunged at him, knocking him to the ground. Its teeth snapped inches from his face. He thrashed, panic flooding his eyes.
"Hobi!" Jimin cried, rushing forward. He slammed his broom handle into the creature's head, again and again, until it stopped moving. Hoseok scrambled back, his chest heaving, tears streaming down his face.
"I can't do this," he sobbed. "I can't—"
"You can," Namjoon said firmly, pulling him to his feet. "You have to."
Nearby, Jin swung his chair leg weakly at another infected. It barely flinched, lunging closer. Jin froze, terror pinning him in place.
"Hyung!" Taehyung shouted, shoving him aside. He swung his mic stand with brutal force, the infected collapsing in a heap. He turned to Jin, his eyes blazing. "You can't freeze! You'll get us all killed!"
Jin's hands shook, his breath ragged. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
Namjoon's voice cut through the chaos. "No more apologies. Fight, or we don't make it out."
The group pushed forward, every strike a desperate bid for survival. Blood splattered across their clothes, their arms burned with exhaustion, their lungs screamed for air. But slowly, painfully, they carved a path through the infected.
Finally, they burst through the shattered doors into the night air. The city stretched before them, burning, screaming, dying.
They stumbled into the street, their chests heaving, their weapons slick with blood. Behind them, the studio — their sanctuary, their second home — was gone.
Namjoon looked at them, his face grim but steady. "We can't go back. From now on, we fight. We survive. Together."
The others nodded, their faces pale, their eyes haunted. Hoseok and Jin clung to their weapons, their hands trembling. Jungkook's jaw was set, his eyes burning with determination.
The world they knew was gone.
And the fight for survival had only just begun.
The night air was thick with smoke and the metallic stench of blood. BTS ran through the ruined streets, their lungs burning, their weapons slick with gore. Every corner seemed to echo with growls, every shadow a threat.
"Keep moving!" Namjoon urged, his voice steady despite the chaos. "Don't stop!"
They turned down a side street — and froze.
Ahead, a group of younger boys were fighting desperately against a horde of infected. Their movements were frantic, untrained, but filled with raw determination. One swung a bat wildly, another shoved an infected back with a metal pole, while two more tried to drag their injured friend away.
It was TXT.
Their younger brothers.
"Yeonjun!" Taehyung shouted, his voice breaking.
Yeonjun turned, his face pale, sweat dripping down his brow. "Hyung!" he cried, relief and desperation mingling.
But the horde was closing in. The infected snarled, lunging at the boys, their teeth snapping. TXT was being overpowered, their weapons clumsy, their bodies exhausted.
Without hesitation, BTS charged.
Jungkook swung his rod with brutal force, the crack of bone echoing as an infected collapsed. Taehyung slammed his mic stand into another, his fury blazing. Yoongi's knife flashed, precise and deadly, cutting down anything that came too close.
"Stay behind us!" Namjoon barked, positioning himself between TXT and the horde. "We'll clear the way!"
Seokjin's hands shook, but he forced himself forward, striking at an infected with trembling strength. Hoseok screamed as one lunged at him, but Jimin shoved it back, his broom handle smashing into its skull.
The street became a battlefield. Blood sprayed, growls echoed, and the sound of metal against bone filled the air. BTS fought with desperate precision, their bond forged in years of brotherhood now tested in survival. TXT clung to each other, their eyes wide with terror, their breaths ragged.
Finally, the last infected fell, its body crumpling to the ground. Silence followed, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing.
Yeonjun collapsed against the wall, his chest heaving. "We thought… we thought we were going to die."
Soobin's voice trembled. "There were too many… we couldn't…"
Namjoon crouched beside them, his expression firm but gentle. "You're alive. That's what matters."
Hueningkai clung to Beomgyu, tears streaming down his face. "Hyungs… what's happening? Why is this happening?"
Namjoon's jaw tightened. "I don't know. But we can't stay here. We need to move, find shelter."
Jungkook looked at Yeonjun, his eyes fierce. "You fight with us now. No more freezing. No more hesitation. If you want to live, you fight."
Yeonjun nodded shakily, gripping his bat tighter. "We'll fight."
Taehyung placed a hand on Soobin's shoulder, his voice softer. "You're not alone anymore. We'll survive together."
The two groups stood in the ruined street, their breaths ragged, their clothes stained with blood. They were idols, brothers, family. And now, they were survivors.
Namjoon rose, his voice steady. "From now on, we move as one. BTS and TXT. No one gets left behind."
The others nodded, their eyes filled with determination despite the fear.
The world had ended. But together, they would fight to live.