The studio lights were blinding, but not as harsh as the silence that followed Team C's name being called.
Han Mirae's breath caught as the digital display lit up in bold white letters:
> "Next: Team C – 'Chasing Shadows' Concept Evaluation"
From the darkened waiting room, the other teams turned to watch them pass. Some offered blank stares, others amused smirks. Yoo Sera didn't bother hiding her grin.
"Hope they practiced falling in sync," she muttered under her breath.
Mirae said nothing. Her ankle throbbed with every step toward the stage. Sweat already clung to her collar despite the ice patch taped beneath her sock. She adjusted her ponytail, ignoring the system's silent alert flashing in her vision:
> [Pain Level 62%. Risk: Performance Instability. Recommend: Withdraw.]
No. Not today.
They walked in a tight line—six shadows stretching across the long studio floor, where four judges sat like executioners behind a long black desk. Cameras rotated silently above them. The walls were mirrored, reflecting every mistake twice.
Kwon Jihwan stood to the side, arms crossed, face impassive.
"Begin when ready," the head judge said.
The music started before Mirae could breathe.
---
It hit them hard—dark synths and sharp beats, syncopated footwork that required razor precision. They had crafted the routine from scratch, mapping formations with chalk tape, choosing a moody concept against everyone's advice. It had taken days of arguing, bleeding, and compromise.
And now, they had less than three minutes to prove they belonged.
Min Dayoung started strong, her ballet-trained lines slicing through air like practiced elegance. Sujin moved opposite her, mirroring with calculated emotion.
Then it was Mirae's turn.
She twisted into a low drop, her body spiraling like a falling petal—and her ankle screamed. But she held it.
Applause didn't come.
Only the dead cold stare of the judges, watching with surgical detachment.
Hyerim stumbled slightly in a spin. Inhae's timing faltered during the bridge.
Jiwon covered both, subtly shifting her position to mask the gaps.
They hit the final beat—Mirae landing with a delayed exhale—and the music died.
Silence.
Seconds stretched. The judges didn't even look at each other.
Then one cleared her throat.
"Team C," she said, "what exactly were you trying to express?"
Mirae stepped forward, heart hammering. "The fear of being forgotten. We built the routine around the shadow concept… how chasing perfection can consume us."
"Fear?" the second judge scoffed. "It looked like confusion. Half your transitions were limp. Your energy dropped halfway. That's not 'artistic'—that's weak."
Mirae's mouth dried.
Kwon Jihwan stayed silent.
The third judge, a veteran choreographer with a knife-like voice, added, "You made bold choices. Unfortunately, your bodies didn't follow."
Another beat.
Then the final judge, coldest of them all, leaned in. Her voice was calm but unforgiving.
"Han Mirae. Step forward."
Mirae did, limping ever so slightly. She knew they noticed.
"You're the unofficial leader, correct?"
"Yes."
"You're injured. We saw it in the jump sequence. Why didn't you bow out?"
Mirae stared straight ahead. "Because we needed every member."
The judge narrowed her eyes. "Are you saying you prioritized presence over performance?"
Mirae hesitated. "I'm saying… we'd already fallen apart before. I thought this time, if we faced it together—"
"—You could fail together?" the woman finished.
Something clenched behind Mirae's ribs.
"I've seen girls like you," the judge continued. "Stubborn. Brave. But that's not what debuting takes. It takes strategy. Discipline. Knowing when to lead and when to let go. You gambled on sentiment. Let's see if it pays off."
She tapped her tablet.
The screen above blinked to life.
> "Preliminary Scores: Team C"
Execution: 68
Synchronization: 62
Artistic Direction: 74
Stage Impact: 70
> Final Score: 68.5
Gasps echoed behind the two-way mirror.
It was… better than expected.
Barely.
Enough to avoid automatic elimination.
But not enough to guarantee survival.
Mirae glanced to her teammates. Some looked stunned. Others, like Sojin and Jiwon, were already calculating what this meant.
Then the head judge stood.
"One team will be chosen for priority mentorship after this round," she said. "One team will be flagged for possible disbandment."
Mirae's heartbeat doubled.
"You'll find out where you stand… tomorrow."
And just like that, they were dismissed.
---
Backstage was a blur of sound and breath and disbelief.
"I didn't think we'd hit above 60," Dayoung muttered. "I thought we were doomed."
"I almost dropped that spin," Inhae admitted. "Jiwon—thank you."
Jiwon only nodded.
Sujin sat next to Mirae, silently handing her a water bottle. "You did good," she whispered. "Even if they won't say it."
Mirae's fingers trembled around the bottle cap.
Her vision swam, and for a terrifying second she thought she might cry. But she swallowed it down. Again.
> [System Alert: Evaluation Complete. Team Unity Score: 42%. Warning: At-Risk Group.]
[Private Mission Activated: "Lead Without Breaking" – Reward: +7% Unity | Penalty: Expulsion Triggered]
Expulsion.
The word hung like a guillotine.
She stood slowly.
"Rest," Sujin said gently.
Mirae shook her head. "I need to train more."
She hobbled toward the empty dance studio, the echo of her steps muffled by the hallway carpet. Her ankle was swollen. Her pride more so.
Inside, the lights were dimmed. A single mat lay abandoned near the back.
Mirae collapsed onto it.
Then she cried.
Not loud. Not dramatic.
Just quiet, exhausted tears that only the mirrors saw.
---
The next morning hit like a hammer.
"Attention trainees," the loudspeaker blared across the dorm halls. "Evaluation results will now be posted in the lobby. You have ten minutes."
Team C gathered in silence, dressed in sweats, eyes wide and wary.
They descended together.
A crowd had already formed at the bulletin board.
Mirae felt her legs moving before she could think. Pushed past shoulders. Skimmed the names.
Her heart stopped.
At the top of the sheet:
> Priority Mentorship Group: Team B
Disbandment Watchlist: Team C
Sojin whispered, "No…"
Mirae stared at the letters.
Her ears rang.
> [Mission Updated: "Survive Disbandment" – Countdown: 7 Days]
[New System Quest: Earn Redemption Performance Slot – Optional: Solo Path Unlocked]
Behind her, someone laughed cruelly. Yoo Sera.
"Should've called yourselves Team Cringe," she sneered, passing by.
Mirae didn't react.
She couldn't.
Because at that moment… everything was crumbling again.
And they only had one week to stop the fall.