Fateful Fire in 4th Century Korea

It was a little after midnight when I heard something in the hallway. I didn't mean to fall asleep, but the day had been long, and what little rest I got had left me exhausted. Still, I live alone, and there's always the chance that someone had broken in. I listened for a moment to make sure it wasn't just the house settling before leaving my bed to check the door.

I approached the door as quietly as possible and peered through the peephole. There was no one there, but right next to the door was a small box that hadn't been there before. A present? Well, maybe it wasn't really late enough for anyone to be dropping presents off on my doorstep. Maybe they'd put it in the mailbox by mistake. In any case, probably nothing to worry about. I turned around and headed back towards the bed.

Just then, however, there was a loud knock on the door, followed quickly by a voice speaking in an unfamiliar language. It sounded like German or something like that. I couldn't figure out what he was saying, but he seemed insistent that I open the door immediately.

I tried to ignore him and return to bed, but another knock made me jump out of my skin and send me flying towards the door instead of away from it. My heart racing with fear, I leaned over and placed my eye against the peephole again, only this time facing away from the door itself so that whoever was on the other side couldn't see me doing so from outside.

There were two men standing in front of my apartment building - one tall and thin wearing some kind of military outfit with his face obscured by a gas mask; the other shorter and stockier dressed in black leather with similarly obscured features who had one arm wrapped around what looked like a flamethrower of some kind. They both appeared to have guns holstered at their sides. As I watched them, they began talking again - seemingly oblivious to my presence just inches away at the end of an empty hallway.

"Is he inside?" said The Tall Man in perfect English with an accent that sounded vaguely German or Russian - it was hard to tell which through a thick gas mask muffling his voice so much.

"Yes," replied The Stocky Man with another, louder voice than his partner's (though still quiet compared to someone who didn't have their ear pressed up against their own apartment door).

"Then why aren't we moving yet?" asked The Tall Man, annoyed by having to repeat himself yet again. "It's almost one o' clock."

"We can't go until he leaves his room," explained The Stocky Man patiently as though speaking to a child or someone otherwise mentally deficient (but not too patronizingly - he still sounded very professional). "If we go while he's still in his room, then we'll never be able to get him."

The Tall Man rolled his eyes at this explanation - clearly not happy about waiting even longer for what he wanted than he already had been waiting for whatever reason - but seeing no alternative agreed nonetheless "Fine... fine." He paused for a moment before adding: "We can at least turn up now." With that said he grabbed The Stocky Man by his free arm and forced him into position over where The Tall Man assumed The Flamethrower Man's body must be positioned behind his weapon - ready for deployment when needed - before raising his gun up into position as well and walking back towards my apartment building's outer entrance where they'd clearly been waiting beforehand without getting caught by anyone else who might have stumbled across them earlier in their secretive operation.

*END*