The practice room is thick with heat. The air is filled with the faint, pervasive smell of sweat and the sound of heavy, ragged breathing. Having just finished an intense dance session, the boys lie sprawled on the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling and exhaling deeply. Dry, raspy breaths escape their parched throats. They look like a group of zombies. Everyone is completely spent. Even Jiyong, the leader, lies motionless, drained of all energy.

After lying there for what feels like an eternity, a familiar voice crackles through the ceiling speakers with a mechanical hum.

"Practice. Guys, you need to practice."

A voice as familiar as it is irritating. It's the CEO of YG, urging them to continue. Groans and deep sighs erupt from all corners. Reluctantly, they sluggishly drag themselves up and take their positions in the formation. The moment a familiar pop song starts playing, the practice begins again.

Everyone moves their bodies with passion. They desperately want to just collapse again, but they can't. They have to debut. For Jiyong, the word "debut" carries a particularly heavy weight. He has dedicated 11 years of his life to being a trainee; he can't lose everything now because of a single mistake. Perhaps because of that, even while dancing intensely, his sharp eyes dart around, monitoring the members for any errors.

Suddenly, Daesung's feet get tangled. He trips over himself and stumbles to the ground. After a brief silence, the members gather around him, worried about his ankle. Everyone except one person.

Jiyong, watching Daesung with a displeased expression, slowly walks toward him. As his heavy presence approaches, a chill runs down Daesung's spine.

A chill settles over the practice room that was filled with heat and sweat just moments ago. The cold air fills their lungs, and even the tips of their noses feel sharp and stinging.