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None of this should have happened. It never should have happened.
After seeing the state San was in after the others deserted him, Wooyoung was a little confused. Had they witnessed the same event?
From his point of view, an enormous Orb had fallen out of the sky and nearly crushed them; San had pushed them out of the way, standing where they had, taking the impact of the Orb. He was merely trying to protect everyone.
Sure, the Orb seemed to disintegrate as it hit him, but the point still stood: San wasn’t a bad guy.
As he made to follow his friend, he noticed a shadowy object on the floor. He approached it curiously.
Jongho’s hat, he realised, picking it up.
Wooyoung knew that he could do it – he could don the hat and join his old friends, slot himself back into the group he once belonged to. It would be so easy.
But he wasn’t deluded like the rest of them seemed to be. He trusted San; he’d seen him stop the Orb from killing them all.
The redhead pulled out a lighter, casually flicking it.
One thing was certain: he would never doubt San.
Holding the black fedora in his hand, he marvelled at how quickly the flames engulfed it, and smirked.
“Idiots.”
The inception was a quiet affair. The only recognisable face in the small crowd that had gathered was that of Seonghwa, his former friend – his brother – who had refused to side with either him or San.
No matter, Yeosang thought, as he approached the podium. I don’t need him anyway.
Disappointment flooded through him at the turnout of the event. If he closed his eyes, he could visualise an ocean of blue-clad citizens watching him; he could imagine their cries of “HALA, HALA” as he faced the Halacrow, as he finally regained his freedom.
The chains seemed heavier than before, weighed down by the anticipation, not the fear.
Yeosang wouldn’t be scared. Ha.
His movements became more sluggish as the weight overpowered him, and he fell to his knees before the Halacrow. His features firmly set, he raised his head.
“I can hear your whispers,” he stated firmly. “They’re like an echo, floating around this city like birds.”
Yeosang shifted his focus to the canary that had perched itself on the Halacrow’s arm. He addressed the bird directly, as if it could understand him in any way.
“I wish to be free like you. Free me from this cage I am trapped in, and I will never doubt HALA again.”
He had stumbled upon the Halacrow not too long after the incident with San. The incident which brought to light how wicked San really was, because who else would be able to repel something with such a mass and live to tell the tale?
The Halacrow had called out to him, whispering its words; promises of a higher power, one that could overpower any other. Yeosang was immediately intrigued, having been oppressed his entire life by his parents, never able to have any proper freedom, whether that be figuratively or literally, given the chains that hung from his body.
With this higher power, Yeosang would be free. No longer would he be a prisoner of these chains, of his family.
No more.
Now, a few days later, he was about to change the course of his life forever.
He raised his right hand and placed it over his chest, proclaiming the words that would bind him to his promise permanently.
“I pledge my allegiance to you, mighty HALA. Guide me; fuel me; bestow your power upon me. I am the leader this world needs, and you are the guiding force I require.
Hearts Awakened, Live Alive.”
And the chains were gone.
Yeosang grinned, stretching as he rose. He flexed his arms, bent his legs, even did a little spin – he could finally move freely, no restrictions in sight. Confidence surged through him as he looked at the Halacrow, taking its fedora and placing it atop his own head, pulling it low.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt alive.
He pulled his black mask over his nose and mouth, raising his dark hood over the hat. One last sweep of the crowd told him that nobody would be cheering for him.
From his place in the audience, Seonghwa winced. Someone has to tell him.
He looked around frantically, eyes settling on a wooden crate that he could stand on. Maybe then Yeosang would notice him.
“Yeosang!”
The aforementioned whipped his head around. His eyes narrowed as he made contact with his former brother.
“I have nothing to say to you,” he said, turning to leave.
Seonghwa knew that he needed to clarify the situation – and fast.
“The chains – they were to protect you!” he yelled.
Yeosang positively glowered.
“Protect me?” he growled, looking at the blonde once more and tearing the mask from his face. “They’ve done nothing but restrict me! I couldn’t do anything – especially when the group split up! I tried my hardest to make you see that I was the one you needed, not San; he’s not a god! He’s clearly a demon of sorts. Why would anyone trust him over me?”
His breaths became heavy as he spoke, fury flowing through him.
“And you!” he continued, pointing an accusing finger. “Why didn’t you believe me?”
Seonghwa raised his hands in surrender, walking closer to Yeosang.
“I – the evidence suggests that San saved us all,” he said helplessly.
Yeosang exploded.
“What evidence? Nobody was there, Hwa; nobody saw what happened.”
Seonghwa murmured something quietly.
“What?”
“Wooyoung was there!” he repeated, louder this time. “He saw, and he believes San, and that’s why he left you!”
Looking him straight in the eye, Yeosang frowned.
“And is that why you left me too? Because you trust Wooyoung?”
Seonghwa looked away, feeling nothing but guilt.
“I – Yeosang,” Seonghwa tried, attempting to offer his brother a hug.
“No,” he spat, pushing his hands away. “I don’t forgive you.”
As he turned once more to leave, he muttered a word under his breath, a stab in Seonghwa’s heart.
“Traitor.”
Yeosang was right; San wasn’t a god. He just wanted to die.
Judging by how it looked, the Orb was big enough and heavy enough to kill him, surely.
Then why did it dissolve as soon as it touched him?
It wasn’t like he was trying to murder his friends, either; they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had San not fallen victim to his suicidal tendencies none of them would be alive.
It would be nice if they were at least a little grateful.
All of them had deserted him, eventually found their own leader to worship – must be Yeosang, San thought bitterly. Not that San was their leader in the first place, but he had the right to be a little jealous.
All except Wooyoung, the brother who had supported him, regardless of the others’ pressure and conviction that San was at fault, and should never be associated with again.
“They think you’re a demon,” Wooyoung had told him one day, after overhearing a conversation between Yeosang and Seonghwa. “Well, Yeosang does anyway.”
San sighed dejectedly, continuing to trace shapes in the dirt with his finger.
“Well, if Yeosang thinks so, then they all think so,” he muttered bitterly. “He’s got them all wrapped round his finger anyway.”
“But I know,” Wooyoung tried. “Is that not enough?”
“You know it’s not!” San cried, tears welling in his eyes as he looked at his only friend. “I’ve lost everything – my family, my brother, my sense of belonging…”
He looked down dejectedly.
“What’s the point of living if everyone hates me?”
For some reason he couldn’t put his finger on, Seonghwa felt drawn to the Halacrow.
Ever since he’d last seen Yeosang, he’d been feeling a regular pull towards the figure. He wasn’t sure why, but every time he heard whispers floating amongst the wind, he returned to the scene.
Today was no different – he was just minding his own business, retying his two-toned robe, when he heard them again.
Power. Freedom. Control.
His mind became hazy, consumed by the whispers, as he felt his limbs begin to move of their own accord. And sure enough, around ten minutes later Seonghwa found himself standing before the Halacrow once more, with no recollection of the journey he had taken to get there.
“Why does this keep happening?” he murmured, confused once again. “What’s drawing me to you?”
Once again he heard the whispers: power; freedom; control.
He blinked, and found his arms moving upwards, head tilting towards the sky, until his position resembled that of the Halacrow itself.
Power. Freedom. Control.
The words ran round his head in circles, trapping him in a loop he seemed unable to escape from.
Terrified, Seonghwa shook his head, just about managing to snap himself out of his reverie. He knew that only one person could provide an answer.
He needed to talk to Yeosang.
“I burned his hat, by the way.”
San closed his book, turning his attention to his companion.
“Whose hat?”
“Jongho’s,” Wooyoung replied, holding San’s gaze.
His face fell.
Jongho had been his best friend – the guy that never left his side, regardless of how ridiculous their situation seemed to be. Whether they were spray painting buildings, cheating on exams, or simply just existing, San did so with Jongho, and Jongho with San.
And so it broke San’s heart when he watched his best friend backing away from him, a look of horror on his face.
“Jongho,” he tried. “I swear I’m not, like, a demon or something. I don’t know what just happened.”
All that Jongho could do was continue backing away, shaking his head.
“No more, San,” he whispered, turning his back on him. “I’m done.”
He fled the crater, leaving his partner in crime alone, completely crestfallen.
“Please,” San begged, tears streaming down his face as his gaze followed Jongho’s path. “Why won’t any of you believe me?”
Recounting the memory caused him to become emotional once again, and he pinched his eyebrows together in a frown as he ducked his head, trying to fend off the incoming cries.
“Why did he leave?” he murmured, turning his head to Wooyoung. “Why didn’t he trust me?”
Wooyoung couldn’t provide an answer, but he could provide comfort to his friend. He laid a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.
“Hey,” he said kindly. “I’m still here.”
San burst into tears, burying his head in Wooyoung’s shirt as he held him close.
There was only one person that would support him now, and he was glad to have a little consolation at least.
Spotting his target near the Halacrow, he stormed up to where he stood, desperate fury in his eyes.
“What the hell have you done to me?” Seonghwa demanded.
Yeosang’s eyes widened as he stepped back, arms raised in surrender. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You do!” His anger was clear from the way he kept getting in Yeosang’s personal space – something he rarely did. “That power stuff, with the Halacrow; it’s affecting me too!”
One would expect Yeosang to look guilty, to lower his gaze and attempt to reconcile, softly and without any nefarious intentions, particularly considering the bond the pair used to have.
However, instead he grinned.
“That’s fantastic news!” he said, opening his arms. “I’m so glad you realise where you stand.”
Seonghwa shook his head. “No, it’s not like that – it’s not like you!” His voice became desperate. “I didn’t choose this! I don’t want it!”
Yeosang took a step forward, a wicked smirk spreading across his features.
“Oh, but you do.”
A jolt suddenly ran through Seonghwa’s body, forcing him to the ground as he cried out in agony.
“Please –”
Kneeling down to his height, Yeosang took Seonghwa’s chin in his hand.
“Give in. It’s so easy.”
“You – you demon!” he managed, before doubling over once more, the dark power coursing through him.
“But of course,” Yeosang mused. “I can’t believe I ever thought San was evil – him, a demon?” He chuckled darkly. “You’ve hit the nail on the head, Hwa. I am the villain of this story. And I intend it to stay that way.”
There was nothing Seonghwa could do to prevent the darkness engulfing him, coursing through his veins as his eyes flashed a brilliant yellow.
After a moment he rose, expression hardened, as he looked at Yeosang. Yeosang beamed.
“It’s about time,” he said, handing Seonghwa a fully darkened robe. He donned it, erasing any traces of his possible allegiance to San.
Together they raised their left hand to the sky, pledging their allegiance to their power.
“Hearts Awakened, Live Alive.”