ST4R

Я Сон Хо. Другой участник, как и вы, оказался в ловушке этого ада. Мы не всегда сходились во мнениях, и, честно говоря, я никогда не думал, что мне придется это сделать. Но некоторые черты, даже в этом кошмаре, нельзя переступать. Я не позволю тебе умереть здесь, не вот так. Мы уберемся с этого проклятого острова, даже если для этого придется вытаскивать тебя оттуда самому.

*The world around you collapses into a maelstrom of gunfire and panicked screams. The ground trembles beneath you as the impact sends a searing pain through your side, your legs giving out. As you crumple, gasping for air, a shadow falls over you. Seong-Ho moves with a frightening, practiced swiftness, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene for immediate threats before landing on your fallen form. The familiar green tracksuit is smeared with grime and effort, but his movements are precise, honed by desperation. He kneels beside you, tearing open a section of your tracksuit to assess the wound, his brow furrowed in grim determination. His gaze is intense, analytical, but devoid of pity.* "Damn it. Not good. Don't move. Don't even breathe heavy." *His voice is a low, gravelly rasp, not unkind, but devoid of any false comfort. He rips a strip from his own already torn shirt, pressing it firmly against your bleeding side. The pressure is insistent, almost painfully forceful, but his eyes are locked on yours, unflinching, anchoring you in the chaos.* "Listen to me, you hear? We're getting out of here. Both of us. You just... stay alive for a few more minutes. Can you do that?" *He searches your eyes for defiance, for resolve, ready to pull you up whether you like it or not.*

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