The lights in the studio were merciless—sharp, white, and burning down on them like judgment itself. Team C sat together in silence, hands curled tightly in their laps, legs trembling beneath their uniforms. The walls of the Elimination Room were lined with glossy black tiles, mirrored just enough to catch every twitch, every tear, every doubt.
Mirae sat at the edge of the bench, her spine too straight, her breathing too shallow. Her ankle throbbed like a drumbeat of failure—steady, punishing. She had wrapped it in medical tape that morning, biting back a scream as she tightened it. No one else knew just how badly it hurt now. Not even Sujin, who sat quietly beside her with her fingers twisted together so tightly they were going red.
Across the room, the other teams whispered among themselves. Some leaned forward, eager. Others leaned back, aloof. But Team C? They were still, like statues carved out of panic.
The judges had yet to enter, but the tension already clawed at their throats.
"I think I'm gonna throw up," Nari whispered, her eyes darting nervously toward the door.
"No one's puking," Hana muttered through clenched teeth, but her voice betrayed the tremble beneath her confidence.
Dayoung, the former ballerina, clutched her knee and muttered something about form corrections. Inhae stared at the wall, blinking rapidly, a nervous tic she couldn't stop.
Mirae tried to speak—tried to say something encouraging, something a leader might say—but the words wouldn't come. Her voice caught in her throat.
A second later, the door opened.
Everyone straightened.
The room went dead silent.
One by one, the three judges entered. Their heels clicked across the floor like the ticking of a clock.
Kang Sejin—the youngest judge and former idol—strode in first, hands clasped behind his back. His gaze swept over the trainees like a laser.
Then came Baek Jina, elegant and cold, every movement calculated. She didn't need to speak to intimidate.
And finally, the director of the entire show: Chairman Yoon. His expression was unreadable, almost bored, as if he'd seen too many hopefuls break in this very room to care anymore.
Behind them, the large display screen flickered to life.
> [TOP 10 GROUP EVALUATION RESULTS – COMMENCING]
Sejin spoke first, his voice low but commanding. "Each group will be called forward. Scores will be announced. Feedback will be given. Bottom-ranked teams will receive disciplinary notice and possible expulsion recommendations."
A low gasp rippled through the room.
"And," Jina added, her voice crisp, "individual trainees who fall into the bottom percentile will be placed on elimination watch. Including team leaders."
Mirae's stomach twisted violently. Her hands curled into fists on her lap.
> [Group F – Step Forward.]
The first group was called. They walked up, trembling but managing smiles.
Team C waited.
One group after another went up—Group A, Group B, Group D. Each time the judges delivered brief critiques, the screen displayed scores, and one or two trainees were warned or praised.
Then:
> [Group C – Step Forward.]
Mirae's blood froze.
She stood on shaking legs. The pain in her ankle exploded with each step, but she didn't let it show. Behind her, the other girls followed, some gripping each other's sleeves. No one spoke.
They stood before the judges like soldiers awaiting sentence.
Sejin's eyes locked on Mirae. "Team C. A challenging routine. Moody concept. One of the few groups who attempted interpretation rather than mimicry."
Mirae swallowed hard. That was a good thing—right?
"But," Baek Jina cut in, "sloppy execution. Uneven synchronization. Multiple mistakes."
Her eyes flicked to Hana, who flinched. "Vocal cohesion was weak. Stage presence lacked consistency."
Director Yoon tapped the tablet in his hands. The screen lit up.
> [Team C Evaluation Score: 56.2% — Rank 9 out of 10]
Mirae felt something inside her collapse.
A breath died in her chest. She didn't move. No one did.
Nari covered her mouth. Sojin whispered, "Ninth?"
Only one group had done worse.
Jina continued. "This group shows individual potential, but no teamwork. Your concept was ambitious but poorly led."
That one hit Mirae like a slap.
Kang Sejin tilted his head. "Han Mirae. You're the assigned leader?"
Mirae bowed quickly. "Yes, sir."
"You chose to keep dancing despite an injury."
She froze.
How did he—
"You've been hiding it. Badly," Sejin said coolly. "Your limp wasn't subtle."
The other girls looked at her in shock. Mirae kept her head down, throat tight.
"This shows determination," Sejin continued. "But also poor judgment. What happens if you collapse mid-performance? Or bring the team down because of a hidden weakness?"
"I—I didn't want to let them down," she said quietly.
Baek Jina's eyes were razor sharp. "And yet your team ranks second to last."
The silence after that felt eternal.
Director Yoon finally spoke.
"Team C, you will not be eliminated today. However…" He paused. "…individual cases are being reviewed."
His eyes fixed on Mirae.
"Han Mirae—remain after the session. Your future in the program is under discussion."
The floor vanished beneath her.
Her teammates turned, shocked.
"W-what?" Sojin gasped.
"You can't—" Nari began, but was silenced by Jina's glare.
The screen flashed again:
> [Next Group – Group E]
Mirae backed away slowly as the others returned to their seats. Her head was spinning. Her ankle felt like it was burning now. But none of that mattered.
They were reviewing her.
Her survival was no longer guaranteed.
And this time, there might not be another chance.
---
Mirae is left behind. Judges will decide if she's allowed to continue.