47 sos, six feet under

“Colonel! Yang!”

A high-pitched shout echoes far into the distance. It carries enough might to sway the waters around them, the current wavering in its tenor. Jae sits cross-legged on a sandy shore and peers out of a pair of binoculars. He had been at it for the past thirty minutes nonstop, though it doesn’t seem like his vocal cords are strained just yet. He channels his energy into loud, reverberating yells.

"Colonel Yanggg!!”

His black hair is soaked, pathetically sticking to his forehead along with pieces of seaweed and sea detritus. It is futile effort to be calling out for the colonel in such a stranded place, but the thought doesn’t deter a very fervent Jae and an even more diligent Li Jiayun who is scripting some intricate SOS signal on the sand.