"When the stars align, something ends. And something begins."
The lights dimmed. For a heartbeat, there was only silence—pure, suspended silence. And then, the stage erupted.
Seoul Olympic Stadium thundered under the weight of a hundred thousand voices. The final concert of BTS's farewell world tour "Permission to Dance on Stage" had brought the city to a standstill. Drones hovered above like distant fireflies. Lightsticks shimmered like a sea of stars. The air was electric.
On stage, seven figures stood shoulder to shoulder, eyes sweeping across the endless tide of purple. They didn't speak at first. They didn't need to.
Then came the first note. And Seoul sang with them.
Behind the performance, behind the synchronized steps and flawless vocals, each member carried their own storm of thoughts.
Namjoon adjusted his earpiece, gaze flickering between lyrics on the monitor and the sky above the stadium. He'd always been the one with words, but tonight, he couldn't find the right ones. There was a weight in his chest, not from nerves, but from the quiet question that never left his mind. What comes after this?
Jin caught the camera's gaze and smiled perfectly, gently, like always. But inside, he was counting time. Not the beats of the song, but the moments they had left before reality took over. Before enlistment, before goodbye.
Yoongi rapped with the same fire he always had, but his fingers twitched at his side, longing for a piano that wasn't there. He kept wondering if this would be the last time he performed like this. Is there still music without the stage?
Hoseok spun through the chorus of "Dope," hair slicked with sweat, grin wide. But his eyes searched the faces in the crowd like he was memorizing them. Each fan, each tear-streaked smile. His joy tonight was real, but it was laced with the fear of fading.
Jimin felt his voice crack during "Serendipity." No one else noticed—but he did. He closed his eyes longer than usual, letting the lights bathe his face, as if to delay reality. Every lyric felt heavier tonight.
Taehyung was distracted not by the crowd but by the sky. During "Magic Shop," his gaze kept drifting upward. At first, he thought it was a trick of the lights. But no, something was shimmering above the clouds. Something unnatural.
Jungkook gave everything as always, sweat pouring, vocals strong, moves sharp. But as the final song neared, his hands trembled. Not from exhaustion. But from fear. Would this be the last time he stood beside his hyungs like this?
Backstage during a quick break, they collapsed onto couches, breathing hard, shirts damp with sweat.
"Anyone else feel like time's moving too fast tonight?" Namjoon asked, drinking from his bottle.
Jin gave a lopsided smile. "Time always runs when we want it to slow down."
"I don't know if I'm ready for it to be over," Jimin murmured, eyes lowered.
"You're acting like we're dying," Yoongi replied dryly. "We're just… shifting."
"Shift into the unknown," Taehyung added, peeking again at the sky through a narrow window. "Something's… weird out there."
"What, aliens coming to see our last show?" Hoseok laughed.
"I'm serious, hyung. There's something glowing behind the clouds."
Jungkook stood beside him and squinted. "That… doesn't look like city lights."
When they returned to the stage for the encore, it happened. The first aurora.
Ribbons of green and violet twisted silently across the sky above Seoul, luminous and fluid like watercolor in motion.
The crowd gasped. Phones flew upward.
"Seoul doesn't get auroras," Namjoon whispered as he stared upward.
"Not naturally."
"Maybe nature made an exception for us," Jin said, half-joking.
But Yoongi had gone still.
Taehyung whispered, "There."
A blue comet streaked across the sky, slow and majestic. It wasn't on any news broadcast, no forecast. No telescope had predicted it. But it was there.
The Silent Nova.
It glided soundlessly, glowing like a tear through the atmosphere. Without speaking, each of the members looked up, one by one.
Namjoon made a wish: "Let us still matter when the lights go out."
Jin:"Let this never be forgotten."
Yoongi:"Let music find me, even in silence."
Hoseok:"Let the world keep dancing—even when we're gone."
Jimin:"Let our bond remain, no matter the distance."
Taehyung:"Let me find what's real, even if it's far from here."
Jungkook:"Let us never say goodbye."
The moment held like a final note. Then applause. Cheers. Tears.
The concert ended, but the feeling lingered.
__________
That Night, the dorm was quiet.
Jungkook lay on the floor of the living room, scrolling through fan posts about the auroras.
Jimin leaned on the window, watching the sky. "It's still glowing," he said.
Yoongi sat on the couch, strumming a melody on an unplugged guitar.
"The comet… that's not normal. Something's off."
"Maybe it's a sign," Namjoon said from the kitchen, half-heartedly heating tea. "Or maybe it's just the universe applauding."
Jin smiled. "If it is, I wish we could hear it."
At 3:17 AM, the apartment trembled. Just once. A low, deep rumble, like something shifting beneath the Earth. Cups rattled. Books fell.
Then—
A sound. Not a bang. Not thunder. A frequency. Low. Vibrating. Ancient. Alive.
Every phone was turned off. Every device blinked static. And for a full ten seconds, the world hummed.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't quiet either. It was everywhere. And then it stopped.
Silence.
"I… felt that in my spine," Jimin whispered.
"That wasn't an earthquake," Hoseok said.
"No," Namjoon replied, looking pale. "That was something else."
They all looked up again. The aurora had vanished. The comet was gone. Only the stars remained silent, watching.
And somewhere, deep in the cosmos, a forgotten frequency echoed again… for the first time in thousands of years.