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Wooyoung had sat on the couch, listening intently to Left Eye as he spoke.
The tension was thick in the air around them as they sat nestled amongst all of the riches of the old world - gorgeous art and masterpieces becoming their co-conspirators.
He could feel it, everyone else in the room could feel it - they were gearing up for the big fight. Everything they had done up to that point had been in preparation for this. This was their big chance to try to change everything.
Excitement bubbled in his stomach, as he snuck glances at everyone else dotted around the room. He could see his own fire and excitement reflected back in the seven men around him. Wooyoung turned slightly to his right to find San already looking at him, fixing Wooyoung with those sharp eyes, a smile gracing San’s lips. The determination and hunger was palpable on San’s face, paired with an excited glint in his eyes that left Wooyoung breathless where he sat.
Wooyoung had seen that look many times before, and he had been at the receiving end of it too many times to count. Wooyoung’s body pressed into the mattress they had rescued from the street. San’s face hovering over Wooyoung’s in the dim light of the corner of the warehouse they had claimed. Wooyoung spread out underneath him, gazing up in reverence. There was always a hint of danger in that look that Wooyoung loved so dearly.
Wooyoung felt a shiver dance down his spine as he turned back to the rest of the room. Left Eye in the middle of the room surrounded by the others, entranced and hanging onto his every word, as he reminded them of what their goal was. They would not be like the Guardians or everybody else who had forced their views onto the population of Strictland with no alternative choice.
It made Wooyoung feel giddy to think that they were finally getting the chance to try and give people a choice - something that, once upon a time, had felt like a pipedream; something from a fairy tale. Wooyoung could barely sit still thinking about how close they were to reclaiming some power and envisioning a different future from the shit they had been force fed their entire lives.
Wooyoung almost got lost completely in the excitement that was threatening to overcome his entire body and mind, nearly missing the end of Left Eye’s speech and the beginning of finalising their mission plan. He shuffled forward on the couch so he was sitting on the edge of the cushion leaning forward and focusing his full attention on Hongjoong. He felt the currents of electricity passing between everyone in the room as they readied themselves to discuss what they had been thinking about and preparing for so long.
Wooyoung paid rapt attention as Hongjoong flipped the board beside him to reveal familiar blueprints and maps. The ones Wooyoung and San had managed to swipe from the archives on their last mission, very narrowly managing to escape. Seeing them again now made the fear that had coursed through his veins as they had been trapped on all sides, feel worth it. The spark in his stomach started to catch light as Hongjoong reiterated the parts of the plan they had already discussed - seeing the routes mapped out in marker made it all the more tangible, some form of liberty waiting for them to snatch between in their hands at the end of it all.
They ran through their plan further, fleshing out things that had previously been question marks - firming up the locations everyone would find themselves in. Most of them would have to infiltrate the compound surrounding the Academy - the largest source of the Guardians power.
Mingi would standby ready to flip the switch on the machines rendering their security useless, get them chasing their tails long enough to give them enough cover.
Yunho would be waiting down the street from the Academy and its compound - the team’s eyes on the ground, ready to relay the signal to Yeosang. Before slipping away and unearthing the hidden treasures and art they had been storing.
Yeosang would wait in the communications room ready to intercept the message from Yunho and reprogram the AI, before he would wield his violin like a weapon.
It was up to Seonghwa and Wooyoung to perform, to complement the musical disruption with dance. Two key things the population had been denied for so long. Theirs would be a public protest. A bold act to provoke and entice.
Jongho would rendezvous with Mingi afterwards, ready to welcome any immediate defectors and provide backup to whoever should need it.
And Hongjoong would infiltrate the compound undercover and directly attack their sources of control - hidden by the disruptions the rest of them would carry out.
It was the perfect attack, clever enough that none of them were in the same place, that would force the authorities to run around in circles as they tried to locate all of the pieces and snuff them out.
Nothing about the plan was new. They had been discussing it and throwing around ideas and contingency plans for months. So it came as no surprise to Wooyoung when the excitement rippling in his stomach curled into something sour the longer the discussion went on.
While the plan was not exactly new, the contingency plan had not exactly been nailed down. Tonight, though, that would all change. Wooyoung didn’t know why they bothered to keep having these discussions when everyone knew very well who would offer themselves up as bait.
Wooyoung felt his entire body numb when San offered himself up, again. He could feel the way Seonghwa and Yeosang’s gazes shifted directly to where he was sitting on the couch. He could feel the concern directed towards him; the same way he could feel his own heart thumping in his chest and his head. He could hear San’s voice from the couch beside him light and airy as he sincerely offered himself up for sacrifice again. They were close enough to touch if Wooyoung reached an arm out and yet he had never felt further away. A canyon opened up between them at every insistence from San that it had to be him; that everyone thought he was the Captain anyway; that he was the fastest so it made the most sense.
Wooyoung couldn’t react. He couldn’t bring himself to spare a fleeting glance towards San. He had seen it all before. The way determination etched into those sharp, beautiful features; the steeliness in San’s catlike eyes; the disarming smile meant to placate and encourage. He could feel the way San’s eyes gravitated towards Wooyoung. He could hear the underlying promises in San’s words, the insistence that this was what he was meant to do, the plea to understand.
Wooyoung was no stranger to this dance. It’s not like he had a choice anyway.
So Wooyoung resigned himself to dealing with anger thrumming through his icy veins, his body stock still, as he stared holes into his thigh - into the promise etched into his skin high above the rips in his jeans.
Amicus ad aras.