The Last Resort (When Everything is Gone)

by IlnaHers

Summary:

Five hundred years after the death of their friends, Hatz finally manages to reunite with Khun. To save Hatz and create an opportunity to save their gone friends, Khun sends Hatz back in time. To save his last companion, Hatz forcibly takes him with him.

- "I get your situation somehow, Hatz..." Shibisu told him with both pain and unease. "But who is that person?"

Hatz turned and found the other, covered in a hooded cloak, hovering by the entrance, hesitant. He pressed his lips together, pain clenching his heart briefly, before he forced composure back onto himself.

"He is a trustworthy companion. The one who brought me to this time."

He took a few steps to join him.

He opened his mouth to call him. Stopped. Tried again:

"Hey. I didn't know you were here. Is anything the matter?"

His friend looked at him wordlessly.

He had changed so much, Hatz thought again, with constricted lungs. -

Notes:

This was sort of inspired by I_Love_Creepy_Pasta's one shot God Is Dead, because I've been thinking about the way such a tragedy could still have hope in it. It’s not the same universe at all, but it stemmed from my desire to not have such a dystopic post-canon end with just despair and loneliness.

Chapter 1: Nothing Left but Us

Khun was Hatz’ friend. Or, at the very least, his companion.

 

It was a given. A mere month was enough for Hatz to consider teammates as precious comrades. One might think that Khun would be different. After all, Khun had left them early on, and they never did get along. Their respective experiences clashed, and so did their principles.

 

But, at the beginning of everything, Khun had stayed three years.

 

Thirty-nine months. A thousand one hundred seventy days. Twenty eight thousands and seventy hours. One million six hundred eighty four thousand eight hundred minutes. One hundred and one million eighty eight thousand seconds.

 

A small eternity, at the beginning of their lives.

 

It meant a lot. A lot of time spent together, arguing, sparring, sleeping and guarding each other's backs, bickering or discussing healthy habits, fighting together and living together.

 

Ample time. Even if Khun had left. It would forever mean something to Hatz, even if he disliked the thought.

 

When he had thought Khun dead, he had wanted to avenge him, even though he knew it would bring no one back from the dead.

 

When they had fought, it was with a familiar bitterness that Hatz had found himself defeated, with only a wound on Khun's arm to show for it, and a conflict that they could not solve on top of it.

 

When Khun had come back, it was in a casket disguised as a saving grace, greeting Hatz like a gunshot of regrets and left unsaids.

 

And after that, there was more. There was them. In intermittence. For years. There was Hatz sharpening his sword in wait for his next battle, there was Khun overworking himself in anticipation of Bam's next destination, and sometimes, there was them. Hatz peeling an apple by Khun's bedside as he laid there, bedridden by a surnatural fever, bickering with a coarse voice with Hatz even though both of them had long grown out of it.

 

The quiet moments and the fights for their lives. Those meant something.

 

The day Hatz found himself all alone, with the overwhelming knowledge that all his companions had fallen, knowing Khun was still alive out there… they meant everything.

 

Thinking about it, their climb was never meant to end well, did it?

 

It took him about five hundred years to find Khun again.

 

He and Khun were a good pair, he thought to himself, or they could become so. With Khun's mind and Hatz's level-headed strength they could change their world.

 

But Hatz could not do it alone. Alone, in this twisted Tower, he could not save anyone. Just like Bam had needed a strategist to supply his noble ideas.

 

Hatz had found Khun thrice in the past already.

 

The first time was a year after the massacre. He had found Khun, in that empty room, chained to a wall through his ankles, and he had almost collapsed in shock and pure relief.

 

“Earrings, is that you?!” he had rushed in, breathless, disbelieving but urgent, and Khun had changed so much. “I'll get you out of here. Where is Bam?” Bam was the only one he had not seen die.

 

But Khun had looked at him in silence, on his knees. With eyes too big for the man Hatz knew, too blue and emotional. He had extended a fragile hand to Hatz's cheek, had caressed him with gentle care, as though he, too, could not believe that Hatz had survived.

 

He had looked so out of it. Hatz had repressed his own emotions and knelt in front of him, surprised by how small the lightbearer had become, by how weak the spell master looked like this. He had taken his hand into his and firmly squeezed it, looking into his eyes. His skin had been cold to the touch, unnaturally so.

 

Footsteps approached, and Hatz had known what he had to do.

 

“Earrings, I know this is a lot, but please talk to me. Let’s get out of here, alright?”

 

But Khun had merely taken a glance in the direction of the hurried footsteps, behind the door. Hatz had taken his blade to the manacles but they did not break. Too strong to be bended or cracked.

 

They absorbed his shinsu at a touch. He had recoiled, looked at Khun again, and finally understood why the man had not made a single move to escape.

 

Hatz could barely feel a whisp of shinsu from him.

 

Khun had bitten his own thumb and pressed blood to Hatz’ forehead, murmuring nigh voiceless spells under his breath.

 

Hatz had begged him not to. But Khun's eyes had spoken for him, strong in urgency, determined in panic, logic speaking through the panic and the despair.

 

“They won’t kill me,” he had said weakly, and Hatz had understood.

 

Khun was the only person alive to have gotten his hands on Arlene's spell journal, in his desperate search for any answer for Bam's sake.

 

Khun had destroyed that journal after memorising everything. His sole knowledge was the key to make sure no other Arlene would exist and recreate the powerful curses and prophecies that had already once birthed chaos in the Tower. The spells from the outside. They would not kill him before they had wrung out every single secret out of him.

 

It had taken him a mere second for that spell because that was as much time as they had had. Hatz’ own shinsu had pulled to the blood sigil, as well as the energy as what he recognised as the firefish.

 

Then he was gone, teleported away. Khun left there all alone. And Hatz still did not know if Bam had survived.

 

He refused to believe the rumours that the Irregular had died, because the rumours also pretended his lightbearer was gone with him. There had to be more than just Khun and Hatz. Even if Shibisu, Anaak, Endorsi, Laure, Rak and all the others were gone, Hatz could not give up.

 

He still had companions he needed to save and bring back, even if nowhere on this accursed Tower was safe now.

 

He bettered himself, escaping patrols, fighting for his life, until he caught another glimpse of Khun.

 

Khun had not been in that prison. In a time when all the Great Families were tearing each other apart,  where blood and war was everything in the Tower, Hatz found Khun at the side of one of their Heads, led somewhere safe, still a prisoner, with far more marks and scars and wounds, and eyes far more empty than the last time Hatz had seen him.

 

He had run and struggled to reach them before they disappeared. Khun had not noticed him.

 

And now here they were, centuries after the massacre and the day the Tower changed for the worse once more.

 

This was the culmination of five hundred years of preparation, and then five hundred years of endless war. Discord had taken aflame the world. And Hatz found Khun again. Unrecognisable. Drawing patterns on the ground, like a crazy prisoner, with his own blood flowing from him in rivers, still not free of his shackles, and Hatz feared they would never go. His hair was tainted red, and each drag of their tips to the ground drew terrifying yet hypnotic crowded lines.

 

He was alone for now. Hatz could not sense the aura of the Yeon Flame anymore. He hummed brokenly, like he had no voice anymore. Hatz could not read the array he drew on the ground.

 

Maybe this was the end of the world. Maybe this would be Hatz’ sole opportunity. He was not going to let it slip through his fingers again. Even if the world burned and wept, he would find his companions and hide within the wounds of the Tower, because it was not in his nature to give up.

 

Khun stared up at him, kneeling still on the ground, with eyes dull, but turning more expressive each second he spent detailing Hatz again. The same gesture as the first time, the same silent awe struck realisation.

 

‘You are alive. You survived.’

 

Gone their endless quarrels from centuries ago. None of it mattered when in front of them was each a person that they had cared for endlessly, a salvation in the form of a friend. The key to a past long gone and something more.

 

Companions, with a peculiar yet preciously unique bond, despite all the time apart. They had had, after all, a small eternity to quietly swear vows of care and support, even though they had always had different goals, different companions, different principles and far too little time to harmonise it all together.

 

Hatz still understood. Khun looked around Hatz urgently before looking at Hatz again, desperation and sheer hope glowing out of him. He still understood every gesture that he thought he could not read before. He had always been able to, in truth.

 

“They're all gone,” he told him, throat knotted. “It’s just me. Khun, where… where is Bam?”

 

Something broke in Khun's eyes, and his shoulders slouched, his fists still on Hatz’ clothes. He shook his head slowly, and Hatz understood that too.

 

Bam had never survived. He had been a threat, and he had been eliminated.

 

Probably in front of Khun. To make him break, to make him talk.

 

His heart clenched with immense pain.

 

What was there left, then? Had no one else survived?

 

Their past lives and companionships, were they all gone?

 

But when he focused back on Khun, the frail man held him with determination, however resigned. Hatz felt him tug in his veins, a silent request that he had trouble deciphering.

 

As soon as he understood, he poured his shinsu into Khun.

 

It was so much it should have hurt. But Khun merely closed his eyes briefly and took it. They had no time to waste. The world was distracted now, but it was the world. It never failed to catch up.

 

Khun quickly went back to drawing his array again, changing it now as though his plan had drifted to another end. Hatz knew he had to be quick if he wanted to be able to use that shinsu before it was entirely absorbed by the shackles.

 

People were starting to notice them. Hatz gritted his teeth, and prepared his weapon.

 

He would stall for as much time as Khun needed.

 

And so he fought.

 

It seemed endless, the scent of blood carrying through the smoked air, cries echoed and there were so many, all shrieking for what they thought was their key to victory, whatever it was. Maybe some of them only sought to regain what they had lost control over. But neither Khun nor Hatz had anything more to give to this war. Vengeance was something Hatz had long given up on, and Khun was hardly in any position to look for even freedom. But they tried anyways.

 

Hatz slashed anyone before they could lay a hand on Khun's hair. His companion was bleeding out and preparing their salvation, their last resort, as far as Hatz could tell, and Hatz would let no one kill them both off now.

 

Survival was the greatest honour one could do to the fallen, after all.

 

Khun tugged on his sleeves, all cut and bloodied. Dragged him to the center of his finished array.

 

“This again?” they both heard an all too powerful and familiar voice in the distance. “You know it won’t work. As long as your portal stays open, I will always be able to draw you back here. Flee will take you nowhere and you know it!”

 

Khun bit his lip to blood and shook his head. He hummed breathlessly, voicelessly, hands on the patterns. It lit up in red.

 

“A portal can only be closed from the side it was opened in!” they insisted, closer and closer still. “You won’t escape, cease before I must resurrect you again!”

 

A feral smile took Khun's features, the vindication of knowing that even if he failed there, the one who had kept him captive for so, so long might just find his prisoner snatched away into another's cells and control.

 

But Hatz knew he had no plan to fail. He hoped. He begged.

 

Khun looked at him, a reassuring glint in his dead eyes and mouthed.

 

“They will never get you.”

 

“Live, save them.”

 

Hatz felt horror flood him.

 

The circle activated. He felt himself, once more, aspired into another place, another energetic teleportation. He saw, sight blurred, Khun stabbed a baton of ice into his own chest, a sacrifice of blood to terminate the portal.

 

Hatz did not know where Khun was sending him, but he had the distinct impression that if he did not try one last attempt now…

 

He would never see this one companion of his ever again.

 

With a cry of rage and desperation, he grasped at his sole friend left, already fading into bloodloss unconsciousness, death.

 

Right before the portal closed.

 

He heard shouts of rage.

 

And then, with Khun wrapped tightly in his embrace, he faded away.

 

Light greeted them, in a completely other place. Or rather, greeted Hatz, as he opened his eyes again.

 

Khun was limp in his embrace.

 

“Huh… wait, Lero Lo, there's someone here!”

 

“What? Who?”

 

Footsteps. Hatz straightened, with difficulty. Khun remained inert, eyes closed.

 

Hatz could not care less now that Lero Ro and Quant were supposed to have died years ago. He turned to them, desperate, and begged.

 

“Please, help him. I'll give you anything, just save him.”

 

Khun was this old companion whom he had always clashed with, whose jokes used to rouse Hatz, who used to fight dirty but whose brilliant mind got their survival and win thousand times in the past. And even if he had lost his words, lost his mind and lost his blades, he was still there.

 

Khun was all Hatz had left.

Chapter 2: I know you're not dead yet.

Summary:

“Let me help you,” he told Hachuling, who sported a knowing glimmer in his searching eyes.

 

“Why should I?”

 

“Because you want to know about the future,” Hatz replied with confidence, even though this sort of negotiation was nerve-wrecking.

 

“I could always threaten your friend until you talk,” Hachuling's smirk did not move an inch from its place, cold and experienced.

 

“You won’t.”

 

The Khun's eyebrows rose to his hairline.

 

“Why, so confident? Are you certain of that?”

“Are you alright?”

 

Hatz raised his eyes from the fixed spot he was staring at, looking up to find Lero Ro staring at him with scrunched eyebrows. He was visibly worried. But also, confused, and suspicious. Which was perfectly adapted to the situation.

 

“I’m fine,” he acknowledged steadily. “My wounds don’t bother me now. How is,” he cut himself off, biting the inside of his lips to stop himself from speaking Khun’s nickname, or name really. “How is my friend?”

 

The last Hatz had seen of Khun was when the other man had been ushered into the closed room in front of him and he had been forbidden to enter. He would have raged and broken the door, but he could still sense Khun’s signature shinsu, however weak, on the other side, and no malicious intent. Besides, he had also managed to reason himself since their arrival.

 

He did not know precisely where they had landed, nor when . But one thing was for sure.

 

This was the past.

 

Since he had had this realisation, he had sat there quietly, waiting restlessly for someone to come and give him news, any news.

 

Though, he would not need any news to know if Khun died. In fact, he would break into the room as soon as he felt Khun’s signature shinsu fade anymore than what it was.

 

Despite his calm and collected front, Lero Ro seemed to understand how important this was to Hatz. He visibly put his questions to the back burner to give Hatz some reassurance.

 

“Your… friend… has been taken in charge by my colleague. His condition is critical, but he has been stabilised for now. I’m afraid you can’t visit him yet.”

 

That made Hatz clench his jaw. Of course, he was aware of the reason for this. He could only expect that, for someone as grievously injured as Khun, only the cleanest space should be offered, else something foul would enter his bloodstream and weaken it further. In Khun’s state, it could prove fatal. Hatz knew all of that, vaguely, but it did not stop the indignation and fury at being forced to separate from his companion for longer.

 

After all this time.

 

He swallowed his frustration and nodded, looking back down. Lero Ro carefully sat down next to him, at a relatively safe distance, his gaze piercing him through.

 

“I do not forget troublesome students easily,” Lero Ro spoke after a measured silence. “Especially someone like Mister Khun.”

 

There it came.

 

Khun had sent them to the past. Hatz knew so because neither Quant nor Lero Ro, least of all Hachuling, were supposed to have survived. And it was no plotting scheme, Hatz himself could attest to having felt at least one of these men’ heartbeats cease and body grow cold. Yet here they were, all three together, for some reason. Helping Khun with WolHaikSong's resources without even knowing who they were.

 

Both big clues.

 

Hatz trusted his senses and his mind. He knew this was real. And there was only one explanation to it, which was Khun's array.

 

Khun had sent them back into the past, he thought again, as though to convince himself this was real. But did Khun know when exactly he had sent them?

 

Hatz hoped he did. But he felt like he was going to learn that information before Khun would even wake. If Khun woke.

 

Khun would.

 

“And I remember you as well, though not as tall and not as strong. Quant is also definitive about your previous status as his students,” Lero Ro resumed. “However, your situation does not make sense, if only because neither Mister Khun nor you should be able to access this floor.”

 

Lero Ro tactfully did not mention Hatz's ranker aura. But the knowledge was not lost on either of them.

 

“Where do you come from, Mister Hatz? If that is truly who you are, of course.”

 

And… Khun was down, and Hatz was face to face with people he never thought he would see again. Despite all the strength he had acquired forcefully those last few centuries, he felt lost and weak, with no one to guide him.

 

What could he be but honest?

 

“You just need to look at him to know,” he gestured to the closed door.

 

They came from somewhere too dangerous to stay in.

 

Lero Ro hummed reasonably, but the glint of suspicion had not been alleviated in his gaze.

 

“Why did you come here?”

 

Hatz sighed deeply.

 

He wished he knew.

 

“Can I… just wait for him to wake up before I answer any more questions?”

 

Lero Ro raised an eyebrow.

 

“Do you answer to him?” he asked with carefully concealed disbelief.

 

Of course, that would seem awfully out of character to Lero Ro.

 

“I know when I am out of my depth,” Hatz explained tightly.

 

But Lero Ro insisted.

 

“We don’t know when he will even wake up, if he does,” he pointed out. “Will you wait for him even if your current benefactors decide you are too much of a threat?”

 

“He will wake.”

 

Hatz did not care that he sounded like he was caught in a willful delusion.

 

He could not do this without Khun.

 

Lero Ro watched him carefully. Hatz did not flinch. Finally, Lero Ro backed away.

 

“Very well,” he agreed. “We shall wait for… Mister Khun… to recover from his injuries before we can discuss your origins and goals in details. However, may I still ask a few closed questions? You must understand we have absolutely no awareness of your situation, and that it puts us in a difficult position.”

 

“I can understand that,” Hatz acquiesced with hidden relief. “I'll tell you if I can’t answer anything.”

 

“Good. First then.”

 

“Are you from the future?”

 

Hatz turned to the newcomer that had interrupted Lero Ro. It was a young-looking man with short blue hair and laid back demeanour, except that his usually lax features appeared more serious than usual, if falsely relaxed.

 

Hatz recognised this man.

 

“Hachuling, one of Khun's half-brothers,” he greeted gravely.

 

The man narrowed his eyes at him, even though his lips remained spread into a lazy smirk.

 

“And I don’t really know you personally, but you must be an acquaintance of my cute little brother. You didn’t answer yet.”

 

“...We are,” Hatz admitted.

 

They had already guessed.

 

Hachuling whistled.

 

“Wow. I didn’t know that was possible,” he told Hatz breathily.

 

Me neither , Hatz thought grimly. But he should probably have expected it. Arlene's spells already permitted her to reach a place ‘outside’ the Tower, surely time travel should be possible. If it had not already existed within her journal, then Hatz was fairly confident Khun had devised the array himself. Back then, Khun used to experiment with the spell elements Arlene had left behind, coming up with new uses sometimes. With that intellect, and the right amount of desperation, Hatz did not want to know what else five hundred years could have drawn out of Khun's genius mind.

 

“Do you mean us harm?”

 

“Who is ‘us’?” Hatz deadpanned, having a good guess but preferring to have an oral confirmation.

 

“WolHaikSong.”

 

“No, I do not mean you harm.”

 

“Good. It is a bit late to ask but, do you know where you are?”

 

Hatz frowned. His first guess would be the 77th floor, but considering WolHaikSong's members were pretty mobile, they could be anywhere. From the thick forest they had first landed in, though…

 

“I think I do,” Hatz decided on, and Hachuling tilted his head.

 

“Did you mean to be here?”

 

Hatz frowned.

 

“Specifically, I don’t know,” he confessed, lowering his head to stare at his entwined hands. “But we did… mean to time travel to the past. I'm certain of that.”

 

Hachuling stared at him in silence. Under his impassive façade, Hatz could tell a million thoughts ran amok in his brain. He was just like Khun in that sense, if only more decisive, more truthfully confident.

 

“Last question, then. Can you tell me what happened to that guy?” he nodded towards the door he had only just exited from.

 

Hatz shook his head.

 

There was tension in the air. Hatz had grown a lot in these centuries, but he did wonder about the remaining differences of strength between him and that particular ranker.

 

“I see.”

 

He breathed out.

 

“I thought you'd want to confirm his identity.”

 

Hachuling leveled him with one of these sharp stares the Khun family was proud of, that made the locutor feel a bit stupid for even asking.

 

“I talk to A.A. often enough to be able to recognise him without a doubt, even with the mild differences caused by age and neglect. Thank you for the vote of confidence.”

 

Hachuling then crouched in front of him, at ease but serious. Like a captor who was about to explain the situation to a reluctant prisoner.

 

“Here what's happening. Those two guys and my team have been discussing a way to sneak within the regular areas so as to continue keeping an eye out on the current Slayer Candidate and his actions, as demanded by our dear leader. You, a complete yet familiar stranger, have just entered one of our meetings and unintentionally spied on WolHaikSong private reports. What do you think we should do with you?”

 

Hatz perked up at the mention of a slayer candidate, tied to a Workshop Battle. This sounded far away, but all too familiar.

 

Live. Save them.

 

He remembered Khun's words before their own era faded away around them.

 

He knew what he needed to do.

 

“Let me help you,” he told Hachuling, who sported a knowing glimmer in his searching eyes.

 

“Why should I?”

 

“Because you want to know about the future,” Hatz replied with confidence, even though this sort of negotiation was nerve-wrecking.

 

“I could always threaten your friend until you talk,” Hachuling's smirk did not move an inch from its place, cold and experienced.

 

“You won’t.”

 

The Khun's eyebrows rose to his hairline.

 

“Why, so confident? Are you certain of that?”

 

Hatz was not. He did not even remember Khun and Hachuling being close at this period in time.

 

“You helped heal him, and you care about him. You won’t waste all those efforts before getting answers. Besides, you did just ask me how he got those wounds.”

 

“Consider that my own idle curiosity, please.”

 

“It’s not.” Hatz could not be sure, but he hoped it was true.

 

“Are you willing to risk his life on this certitude?”

 

Hatz almost saw red.

 

“Look,” he gritted out through clenched teeth and a tightened fist on his sword hilt. “If you try to hurt him again I will kill you all. Or die trying.” That, he could promise with absolute certainty.

 

They tested each other's willpower, neither blinking or showing signs of weakness. Hachuling crouched, but he still stood before him and Khun. Hatz was ready to take him on if he needed to.

 

He was almost sure he would not need to.

 

As expected, Hachuling scoffed.

 

“Alright,” he said, standing back up and putting his hands in his pockets. “You're in.”

 

Hatz blinked, taken aback by the change in atmosphere.

 

“Just like that?”

 

“Just like that. How did you think those two got enrolled?” he pointed at Lero Ro, and by association Quant who was not present currently. “Besides, the bargain you strike is pretty interesting to us. And you've already said you'd do anything if we saved your friend, right?”

 

Hatz reluctantly nodded. He had said as much. Hachuling shrugged.

 

“See? Everything's fine. To begin with, I'm just here as back up in case those guys need me, I'm not really involved in the Slayer Candidate's case… it would just be too annoying to do it myself, I'm busy,” he admitted.

 

He sounded a bit like Ran, Hatz caught himself thinking.

 

Ran who had died right before Khun was taken, in an attempt to protect his older brother.

 

He blinked the memories away. He bowed his head.

 

“Thank you, sincerely.”

 

Lero Ro and Hachuling stared at him, one with confused concern and doubt, the other with a completely concealed mind. They were similar, but different from what he remembered.

 

Then again, he might not have known them the best.

 

“Don’t be mistaken,” Hachuling threw easily. “I'm not actually doing this out of kindness. I expect an equivalent exchange from this unexpected encounter. Understood?”

 

“Very well,” Hatz assured him.

 

“Good. I suppose you won’t tell me how far into the future you come from, but I suppose this can come later.”

 

Hatz nodded.

 

Hopefully, by then, Khun would be awake.

 

***

 

Hachuling retreated back inside the facility's medical wings, leaving Lero Ro to find suitable accommodations for their guest. He took the necessary measures to cleanse his body and clothes, and grabbed a clean face mask before he entered the room the second guest resided in.

 

He sat down at the man's bedside, and stared. He really looked the same. Except for quite a few things.

 

The face was the same, he found himself thinking. All doll-like, pristine, except for the sharper edges, where baby fat had gone away, and maybe a bit more flesh. Hachuling could recognise the marks of starvation. His features appeared so much softer when those eyes of his were not narrowed, or when like now, they remained shut close.

 

The face was one thing. The rest of the body was another. Covered in wounds and slashes, in bruises and more obviously, perforations. And scars. All which were now covered by cleaner, intact clothing. Skin no longer just pale but greyish, like a man about to die, or kept for too long just near that edge.

 

Whoever had done all of that had been particular, perfectly aware of what they were doing and insane enough to decide to spare the face. Like it mattered. For their own selfish pleasure when they would look at what must have been their prisoner. It almost made Hachuling clench his fists with the rage he felt inside, but forced himself to repress.

 

Then, there was the hair. Unkept. Neglected. The brother he knew would never have let it become like this. It was like there had been nothing sharp, ever, that A.A. could have had access to. Which made sense, if Hachuling was honest with the image that had been slowly forming in his mind for the last few hours. The medical team had been forced to trim it a bit because it was getting in the way during the operation.

 

There were so many other things Hachuling could direct his attention to, but the most important, apart from the physical growth of about ten centimeters, were the shackles.

 

The bruising, heavy shackles, and the chains. At A.A.’s thin, fragile wrists, and at his ankles, with no flesh on his bones and damaged skin against the metal, irritated and opened in places. Those shackles, with the shinsu-absorbing quality woven in them, doubtlessly created years into the future by the Workshop, had been the main hindrance in the fight for A.A.’s life. Without shinsu, there was not supposed to be life. And with A.A.’s wounds, the restraints would be a death condemnation, if nothing was done. Which was why the medical team's efforts went entirely into finding a way to remove them, especially now that they had stabilised A.A., if probably not for long.

 

Hachuling needed this man to live. He told himself it was so that he could make good of his deal with the time traveler, but he knew himself. After years of detachedly checking up on his new brother every few months through either lighthouse or pocket, he had gotten attached. And now, even though it was not the same version of that person, he was watching him die.

 

Because A.A. was still dying.

 

Hachuling sighed.

 

“You better wake up soon, sleeping beauty,” he spoke in the void. “It seems there are answers only you can provide me with.”

 

He took out his pocket, relaxing in his seat. He knew he would be here for a long while, after all.

 

Speaking of A.A., now should be around the time to check on the present Khun Aguero Agnis again.

 

He told himself it had nothing to do with the state of the A.A. in front of him. Hachuling was a ranker who had seen thousands of people fight and die, and he must have killed half those people, with a high rate of siblings in the mix. He was strong enough not to be rattled by the sight someone he was starting to hold dear after only a handful of years, strong enough not to seek the comfort of reality by checking on someone's vitals even though he knew they were alive.

 

He was stronger than that. This was just his usual business.

 

Except his little brother did not answer his call.

 

The person you are trying to contact is unavailable.

 

The person you are trying to contact is unavailable.

 

The person you are-

 

Hachuling called his pocket off after the third dialing, carefully hiding his frustration. He summoned his lighthouse sharply, and controller in hands, he started hacking into the Tower's information.

 

What he learned made him grin ferally - with no joy whatsoever. Instead, a drop of nervosity finally reached within his chest.

 

“Now that's interesting. Where have you gone, little brother?”

 

I know you're not dead yet.

Notes:

Weaving a bit in canon's relationship holes, don’t mind me.

Chapter 3: A change of plan

Summary:

Khun, Hatz’ mind automatically translated for him, with a pang. Hachuling was talking about the younger Khun. The Khun who must have separated from Hatz’ team only a handful of years ago, who must still be mourning Bam and plotting his revenge, the counterpart of the man lying in the cot in the medical wing fighting for his life.

“I'm sure you know who I'm talking about.”

“Khun disappeared?” Hatz questioned the information dealer instead.

It had been so long ago. Fear took him briefly. What if…

“Sort of. Thanks to your existence, I have confirmed he is still alive out there. But that's not what the news are saying since yesterday.”

And oh.

Hatz understood.

He remembered living through this, once. Watching the TV, his sword gripped tightly in one hand. All the team reunited near the television post because it had been days since Khun had had stopped answering Shibisu's calls and Endorsi told them about the news.

Presumed dead: Khun Aguero Agnis.

Notes:

Hachuling and Hatz have a long talk.

“I did not know Blueberry was close to Khun,” not in this time, Hatz thought to himself.

 

Lero Ro raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“So that was all a bluff?”

 

Hatz did not wish to answer that. After a moment, Lero Ro sighed. He opened the door to the dorm room they had arrived to, gesturing for Hatz to follow him in.

 

“There are closer than a ranker and a regular should be,” he admitted, “though I don’t know how much of it is reciprocated. All I know is that Blueberry calls Mister Khun at times… mostly to pester him, it seems.”

 

It would be amusing, hearing Lero Ro talk almost casually of Hachuling yet keep the honourific to Khun's name, with the constant, respectable distance of a teacher referring to a student. If only Hatz were not busy with more important concerns.

 

Lero thrusted sheets and covers from the drawer into Hatz’ arms.

 

“When do we leave?”

 

“It’s still going to be a week,” Lero Ro told him. “Hopefully your friend will have recovered by then,” was added tactfully.

 

That worried Hatz most. Of course, he had an idea as to what he should do, but…

 

If the time came to leave, and Khun had neither awakened nor gotten better then… What would Hatz do?

 

A careful hand landed on his shoulder. He glanced at the former teacher, who considered him with serious and a quiet amount of sympathy.

 

“I understand you feel troubled. I cannot guarantee he will recover, or that this world will welcome you, but don’t forget there is hope.”

 

Hatz reluctantly nodded, showing his gratitude wordlessly and smilelessly. Lero Ro took a step back.

 

“Tomorrow will be another day.”

 

“You are right.”

 

“I will leave you to rest then. As far as I can tell, you deserve it. Meet me in the morning in front of the hospital wing, there is much to catch you up on regarding the mission you volunteered in.”

 

With few more words, Lero Ro bid Hatz goodbye and left him to his thoughts.

 

Hatz spent some time meditating, but found himself restless. He looked at the bed with a feeling of loss. Then, he closed the door behind him as he left.

 

He simply could not bear the thought of being away from Khun in this precarious situation. Even if, as far as precarious time-linked situations went, this was as stable a state as they could have sought.

 

He went back to the waiting room, the way freshly memorised in his mind. In the end, he sat there all night, closing his eyes and being lulled to sleep by the cool shinsu signature of Khun, forty meters away behind that door.

 

It was Hachuling who found him there in the morning.

 

Early morning. The sun had not risen yet, as far as Hatz’ internal clock could tell. The staff did not roll to change back to the doctors from the last day, it was still nocturnal service. It was quiet. And Hachuling was looking down at him.

 

“You look like shit,” Hachuling told him carelessly.

 

Hachuling did not look much better but he was still managing to look fresh and aware. Hatz thought it must be genetic to have those faint eyebags under the eyes in the Khun family. Maybe they were all night owls.

 

The thought of Khun brought a pinch to his heart, and he swallowed back the bitter taste of failure and regret.

 

“Hey. You listening? Are you sleeping with open eyes?”

 

“I'm awake,” Hatz informed him tonelessly.

 

“Ah,” Hachuling smirked. “Good. Mind if we talk? There's been a change of plan.”

 

Hatz tilted his head to the seat next to him, and Hachuling quietly sat down, leaning against the wall as he did.

 

“Your friend's condition is precarious,” he started with. “But if he can last until our shinsu specialist arrives in this section of the forest, then there's a good chance he'll survive.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Hachuling crossed his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

 

“The anti-shinsu spell on the patient's restraints is stopping him from regathering his shinsu from ambient air, which makes his body too weak to survive on its own,” he explained clinically.

 

Hatz clenched his fists. The vision of the accursed shackles came back at the forefront of his mind, and his breathing became strained.

 

He hated them and all they represented.

 

“Can your specialist undo them?”

 

Hachuling hummed noncommittally.

 

“I'm afraid I don’t know. But we will try. Our cooperation is at stake, after all,” he quipped.

 

Hatz tried to take the words for what they were and to reassure himself with it, but he failed.

 

“I see,” he said with difficulty. “Thank you for all your hard work.”

 

“That's fine. Though, speaking of our cooperation. Has the blond guy told you anything yet about the mission?”

 

Hatz shook his head.

 

“You said your role was to keep an eye on the Slayer Candidate, and that since the Workshop Battle is just around the corner and he looks like he might participate, you want to find a way to sneak in without being found by any responsible party during the event,” he recapitulated.

 

“You got that right. I don’t understand your interest in that mission, although I might have an idea,” a pointed glance, “and I do expect you to inform me of it eventually once the patient's all better. But I'm not opposed to receiving a bit of help. Especially now.”

 

Oh, right. Hatz did remember what Hachuling said when he arrived.

 

“You mentioned a change in the plan?”

 

“That's right. Honestly, I wanted nothing to do with this mission,” Hachuling reiterated, sounding and looking for all the world like he could not be more bored. “But now that the situation's evolved, I have a complementary mission I want you to focus on. With how many people we need to sneak inside the Workshop, might as well be multitasking, right?”

 

“Get to the point.”

 

Hachuling huffed.

 

“Yeah, yeah. So you see, I've lost contact with my cute little brother, very recently.”

 

Khun, Hatz’ mind automatically translated for him, with a pang. Hachuling was talking about the younger Khun. The Khun who must have separated from Hatz’ team only a handful of years ago, who must still be mourning Bam and plotting his revenge, the counterpart of the man lying in the cot in the medical wing fighting for his life.

 

“I'm sure you know who I'm talking about.”

 

“Khun disappeared?” Hatz questioned the information dealer instead.

 

It had been so long ago. Fear took him briefly. What if…

 

“Sort of. Thanks to your existence, I have confirmed he is still alive out there. But that's not what the news are saying since yesterday.”

 

And oh.

 

Hatz understood.

 

He remembered living through this, once. Watching the TV, his sword gripped tightly in one hand. All the team reunited near the television post because it had been days since Khun had had stopped answering Shibisu's calls and Endorsi told them about the news.

 

Presumed dead: Khun Aguero Agnis.

 

Hatz had chosen rage over horror that day, and let it flood his blood until he could only hear the fury rushing through his veins even in his ears.

 

He remembered that feeling, that disbelief and the sheer need to avenge a fallen comrade even though, or maybe because they did not even know what had happened to him.

 

Khun Aguero Agnis was an easier person to worry over when he could not talk. Perhaps, because his words were always a facade of some kind, an illusionary trap Hatz had never known how to fully decipher.

 

But his actions spoke too, and when his voice stopped covering them, it became all too easy to see through the charms and prisms, and realise Khun had always been in over his head.

 

Now Hatz was the one in over his head.

 

“It seems that rang a bell,” Hachuling idly noted.

 

But his sharp gaze pointed at Hatz was telling.

 

“Perhaps,” Hatz evaded the question. “What do you want me to do about it?”

 

Hachuling untangled his hands and leaned on his knees instead, back straight but forwards, and terrifying blue fixed eyes that made too many memories resurface in Hatz.

 

“Judging from the events that A.A. was involved in before he was declared dead, just about two nights ago, all points to say that both he and the Slayer Candidate are going to participate in the Workshop Battle. I want you to leave Jue Viole Grace to the blond guy and focus your efforts on finding A.A..”

 

“Can you not find him yourself?”

 

Hachuling rolled his eyes.

 

“I would, but he reinforced his lighthouses so that I can’t directly hack into it anymore, and I can’t hack into something of which location is unknown to me. Besides, I have other stuff I need to do,” he added like an afterthought. “So? Will you do me this favour?”

 

Hatz blinked. He attempted gathering his thoughts.

 

Five, no, six hundred years ago. The first Workshop Battle Hatz remembered. Khun had gone missing a month before it happened, and Hatz and Shibisu’s team had watched the news on TV with a newfound desire to take revenge on FUG’s Slayer Candidate, Jue Viole Grace. Hatz had quickly gotten separated from the others during the first game, as he had battled Cassano the Devil’s Right Arm. Then, on the Archimedes, he had followed Cassano inside Emily’s area and had ended up finding Beta, while also getting himself imprisoned.

 

Then, Lero Ro had found him. Or somewhen after that. Hatz’ memory was not as clear as he wished it to be. He had never expected those details to turn out useful again. He focused.

 

Shibisu had gotten informed of Jue Viole Grace’s identity, and he had contacted Khun at last, Khun who had been hiding in plain sight and who had… faked his death.

 

“What if Khun does not want to be found?”

 

Hachuling snorted.

 

“Sorry, it’s funny to me that you didn’t even clock on the favour part of the deal.”

 

Ah. Yes, Hatz realised. Hachuling had been trying to make another deal with him? By offering for Hatz to do him a favour and possibly have something else in return.

 

Hatz’ mind was not quite there yet. He was tired. He was worried. And he was in the fucking past. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Hachuling straightened.

 

“In any case. If A.A. really doesn’t want to be found, then that’s okay. I just want you to help him out if he’s in any sort of difficulty, and just, generally, keep an eye on him. Just find him, you know?”

 

“For your peace of mind?”

 

“Something like that. Honestly, there’s still a favour I owe him from years ago, and if I can use an opportunity to get rid of it soon, it would spare me the future hassle.”

 

Hachuling could be lying, and Hatz was half certain he was, but he was pretty damn convincing. Hachuling resumed shortly.

 

“Besides, you also want to keep yourself under the radar, don’t you?” he divined, standing back up and staring down at Hatz with his piercing, knowing eyes. “So there will be no problem if you help each other.”

 

Hatz thought about it.

 

This was… ideal.

 

By having an excuse to find the Khun of this time, he could get closer to his own team back then. Sure, it was a bit early to try and save them, but Hatz felt rattled at the idea of not knowing where they would be. Khun’s askance found the forefront of his mind again, against his will, and he almost flinched.

 

Live. Save them.

 

It was almost obsessive.

 

He knew they should be safe. But he needed to make sure of it.

 

Not for the first time, he wondered why they had landed in this precise time. But only Khun had the answers. Both to his own inquiries and to the course of action they needed to take. Hatz was in over his head, he had no idea what he was doing here, and he had only just seen his only remaining companion stab himself in the lung the day before. What was he supposed to even do?

 

If even Bam was not a god, then how was Hatz of all people supposed to find a way through this?

 

Hachuling still waited for his answer.

 

“Alright,” Hatz agreed. “I’ll do it. But what about…”

 

He hesitated pronouncing the name. But Hachuling understood.

 

“Depending on how the situation goes, a ship should be near in case something happens. Your friend will be there, and I’ll be sure to send you recordings once a day to keep you in the know, and to contact you immediately if there’s an emergency. Of course, that’s if he hasn’t woken up by then. By the way, both of you might need new pockets. I’ll put it on the tabs for the mission’s necessities, don’t worry.”

 

Hatz probably had some money still, but he appreciated the offer nonetheless. He should start considering transferring his points from his pocket to another, since his own might be compromised. It was far from the same pocket the Hatz of the past should be using now, but the paradox of two items of the same creation existing at the same time was mildly problematic, especially in terms of practicality.

 

“Thank you for all you are doing for us,” Hatz bowed his head again to the Ranker.

 

If it had not been for them, Khun might already be dead. Would already be dead.

 

There was an awkward silence for a moment. Then, Hachuling sighed.

 

“I told you already I’m not doing this for you.”

 

“You care for him,” Hatz remarked quietly.

 

It was unclear whether he meant the young man who had disappeared two days ago or the frail being struggling to breathe in the medical wing. Hachuling seemed to have decided one was better than the other to admit.

 

“Of course,” he said cheekily. “He’s my cute baby brother. It’d be sad if he died now, don’t you think?”

 

“He will not,” Hatz assured him, raising his head to meet his gaze, and just for a moment, he thought he could see a fragment of relief light up in Hachuling’s eyes.

 

It was gone as soon as it appeared, a brief reflection of light in a mirror.

 

“That’s good to know. But he might die one day,” Hachuling added, glancing at the closed door. “Once you find him, I’m sure I could haggle quite a few favours from him with the knowledge of the future I’ll have acquired from you. Assuming his current troubles have nothing to do with yours.” Hachuling measured him with a searching stare.

 

Hatz shook his head.

 

“As far as I know, Khun should be alright for a while longer.”

 

Hachuling nodded curtly.

 

“Great, great. Well then, do we have a deal?”

 

“Yes. When do I leave?”

 

“Let’s see… give me five days to make all the necessary preparations and then you can go with Lero Ro and Quant to the Thirtieth Floor. The shinsu specialist that we’re waiting for should be here in about three days, so you’ll still be here to see how all of this ends up. Is that okay with you?”

 

Hatz was not okay with this. He wanted Khun by his side, alive and well, and he wanted that shinsu specialist now so that he could at least be sure Khun would be out of the woods before he left. But he acquiesced regardless of his feelings. He would have to be alright with it.

 

“On one condition, please.”

 

Hachuling narrowed his eyes at him.

 

“What is it now?” he drawled.

 

“Let me see him.”

 

Hatz met the WolHaikSong member’s gaze with transparency and a subtle taste of desperation. He would not give up on this one reassurance.

 

Before he had to leave, to secure a basis for Khun to later establish his plan on, he needed it.

 

He would not leave without having seen Khun.

 

Hachuling looked at him, and seemed to understand that. He tilted his head, impassive, and said:

 

“Deal.”

Chapter 4: By a Stranger's Bed

Summary:

“Your friend woke up.”

Hatz jolted. Hachuling resumed, putting his hands in his pocket.

“He was asking for you, too. He was disoriented, it caused him to panic.”

Hatz appeared stricken by this fact.

“All the more reason why I should see him now,” he insisted, and Hachuling would have agreed, but he stopped him.

“It’s too late now, he’s unconscious again. He opened his wound again while he agitated himself, so the staff is working right now. Best not to bother them.” He inclined his head towards the swordsman. “Unless you have some useful anatomic knowledge from the future?”

The white room was quiet except for the clicking sounds of Hachuling’s console. A doctor was checking the patient on the other side of the bed, adjusting the machines they had at their disposal.

 

A.A. was lucky that this place had enough to stabilise him in the first place, Hachuling caught himself thinking. A worker checked on him every thirty minutes and Hachuling would immediately beep them if something happened. But it was something just. Had they not had the resources, they would have had to move A.A. to the main resort of WolHaikSong. Except that, despite what Hachuling had promised to the swordsman from the future, A.A. was in no state to be moved.

 

The man, who still looked nothing more than a boy, had a crease between his eyebrows, his lips pressed together in pain despite being asleep. His breathing was difficult, strained. When Hachuling looked at him, he also took in the form of his face, the way his uneven strands of hair framed it, and reminded himself it was not the boy he knew.

 

But at the same time, it was, a little voice reminded him.

 

Hachuling only needed to look at him, forcing himself to ignore that his pale body was covered in white bandages nearly from head to toes, to find that the A.A. in front of him could not be even a millennium older than the one he knew. He was still, to Hachuling’s older eyes, a boy, if not a child anymore. He could not analyse A.A.’s shinsu reserves to get a feel on how strong he had become, and he could only but barely attest that he had at least the power of someone who had reached the top of the Tower. Did that mean something like six hundred or seven hundred years? Hachuling doubted it. His younger brother was far from an average regular, and judging from his connection to that Slayer Candidate he had only recently found out about, Hachuling would estimate the time of his climb between one hundred and four hundred years, at least and at most.

 

That did not make A.A. very old at all. Not old enough for his psyche to change and mature after he had already reached his physiological stability around twenty. Not like Yeon Woon, who had become someone almost naive and childish in his good nature.

 

He was, basically, the same person Hachuling knew today. And there was a Hachuling, years into the future, who might be missing or mourning his baby brother right now. Hachuling, no matter how much he tried to ignore it, could not.

 

He had seen hundreds of his siblings and cousins die. Some in rather gruesome ways, some rather quickly. Some, he had known for a decade or two before it happened. It was nothing unusual. Death, as a generality, was nothing unusual in this Tower. Hachuling had seen his fair share of acquaintances die an early death without feeling anything new. But this was different. Despite how little time he had actually spent with A.A., the boy was someone he considered a friend. Someone he had gotten attached to, in between two teasing remarks and a check up chat, here and there, trying to figure out what this boy would become in the future.

 

A.A. had ended up growing on him. Hachuling had forgotten that was what was supposed to happen when one drew the connection between someone they were trying to get to know and the word ‘family’. This connection, this care he felt for the younger boy was the result of Hachuling’s own carelessness.

 

Should he prepare himself to see him die, so that it would not be too terrible to bear when the time came? Or should he hang on to that thread of connection and try to save him while he still could?

 

His decision was made, to some extent. The Tower had decided to bestow time travel upon him, and wasn’t that an opportunity he should take advantage of?

 

Especially since, according to the swordsman, his little brother had been the one to master time travel. That made him all the more interesting, and precious as a source of information and power, Hachuling rationalised with himself.

 

The endless curiosity, at least, Hachuling could genuinely admit to. He wanted to know, he needed to know. It was a mystery he never thought he would be able to uncover. Not only the ins and outs of such fascinating discovery as time travel, but also, he would give a lot to understand how a simply above-average regular such as A.A. managed to get his hand on such information. And why. The reason why, so alluring.

 

And, underneath the wrapped up concern and the curiosity, was a good kind of anticipation.

 

He wanted this A.A. to wake up so that they could confront their minds and have intelligent conversations. A new conversation partner right there, one that understood the nature of spells… there was much to exchange on, with such a constructive mind. It was something Hachuling was looking forwards to.

 

Although, he was hardly kidding himself. The chances that such discussions could happen in these circumstances were slim. There was much pressing on. And most importantly…

 

Hachuling knew his brother. He was someone who took care of his appearance, who knew how to remain healthy, and it reflected in the sharpness of his mind, how everything was calculated to the millimeter, to the way he clothed himself. The boy he had in front of him had skin on his bones, wounds old and fresh alike all over his body, sunken eyes, hair rough and neglected…

 

A lucid Khun A.A. would never let himself fall so far. And even if it was a forced situation, such as the one Hachuling had been assuming, then there would be much bigger priorities than any sort of discussion.

 

Hachuling had reported about the state of the surveillance mission just a couple hours ago. He had had quite enough time to take care of it, seeing as he had moved all his work to the medical room since two days ago so as to keep an eye out. So far, there had been only one emergency, but the doctors were far from optimistic. Hopefully A.A. would survive until the shinsu specialist arrived.

 

Just as he thought that, the regular beeping of the machines started fluctuating. He closed his lighthouse in a hurry, ready to ring the professionals as soon as he had confirmation.

 

“A.A.? Are you awake?”

 

A.A. stirred, his eyes shutting tighter as though in pain. Then blearily, lips thinned, he opened his eyes, his head leaning in Hachuling’s direction.

 

Hachuling felt his heart miss a beat against his own accord. He distractedly rang a doctor, rising from his seat and placing his hands against the mattress.

 

“A.A., can you hear me? Do you recognise me?”

 

The blue eyes of his brother were muddled with confusion and loss of marks, wandering close to his own gaze without an ounce of recognition in them. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. He started straining his atrophied muscles, pain and panic painting themselves on his features as he made a strangled sound, his eyes darting around and behind Hachuling before going back to him. He was panting, and his heartbeat, marked by the mechanical sound of the machine, was accelerating at a dangerous rate.

 

Hachuling could not make out what he was trying to say, if there had even been precise words to discern. He did not let the shock of seeing A.A. in such a state freeze him in place.

 

“Don’t worry, don’t try to move, you’re hurt. You’re somewhere safe,” he added, trying to appear reassuring even in his urgency, “you’ll be fine. Your friend brought you to us, you can trust us.”

 

Something changed when Hachuling mentioned A.A.’s friend. But it did not improve the situation. It seemed that A.A. tried to lurch out of the bed, Hachuling jumped to catch him in case he actually managed to fall off. The hand clasping his was far too light and weak, and it was trembling heavily due to the effort.

 

“Careful!”

 

The clear, light blankets were getting stained in red. Indistinct people Hachuling was not paying attention to were entering the room, affairing themselves quickly around him. This time, he recognised the form of the air leaving his brother’s collapsed lungs, past his lips, and the words he was trying to form.

 

Please, and Hatz. The name of the swordsman from the future, Hachuling recalled. Apart from those two words, everything was just voiceless, strangled gibberish. But these held intensity, a desperate begging Hachuling now rarely found himself confronted to.

 

A.A. was begging him, or whoever he thought Hachuling was.

 

“He’s fine,” Hachuling told him, trying to calm him down, but nothing was working.

 

A.A. looked like he barely understood the meaning of Hachuling’s words. He stared at him, eyes so wide they felt like that of a child’s, articulate inaudible syllables with weak strained air. Everything was loud around them, it was chaos, and it was because A.A. could not calm down.

 

But before A.A. could try saying anything else, his features went slack with weakness, the vice grip he had on Hachuling became limp, and Hachuling guided him back down as he lost consciousness. Hachuling had not been aware enough to be able to tell now, whether it was due to his own exertion and blood loss, or due to the doctors injecting him with a sedative.

 

Shaking himself out of it, Hachuling left A.A. to the care of the nurses and doctors, taking a few steps back to let them work. His keen ears caught the sound of someone arguing with the staff, a few corridors away. Putting what had just happened to the back of his mind, though far from eager to get away from the agitation, he left the room, trusting the professionals, to go intercept his guest.

 

“Listen, I understand this is your job, but this is my friend. If you don’t let me pass, I’ll have to-”

 

“To what, mister swordsman?” Hachuling stopped a few steps away, raising an eyebrow for good measure.

 

The swordsman, Hatz, growled back at him, eyes narrowed and dangerous.

 

“What happened to Khun?” he cut to the chase, not rising to the provocating bait Hachuling had thrown him.

 

“Why do you think anything happened?”

 

“Don’t play dumb, his shinsu signature is erratic now, it’s all over the place. I know something happened. I need to get to him, and I’m not against the idea of fighting you if you bar me the way.”

 

Hachuling could. Despite the fact that the man before him was probably a ranker, he felt that in this place he could still easily beat him. He was, after all, a high ranker himself. But not only was it useless, it was also time-consuming. Hachuling had no need for a fight in the medical wing.

 

“Too much of a bother,” he admitted. “I don’t mind telling you, but you can’t enter.”

 

He dismissed the staff back to their own obligations with a glance and a sign of the hand, before walking closer to his guest, who appeared to lack the precious quality that was patience.

 

“Your friend woke up.”

 

Hatz jolted. Hachuling resumed, putting his hands in his pocket.

 

“He was asking for you, too. He was disoriented, it caused him to panic.”

 

Hatz appeared stricken by this fact.

 

“All the more reason why I should see him now,” he insisted, and Hachuling would have agreed, but he stopped him.

 

“It’s too late now, he’s unconscious again. He opened his wound again while he agitated himself, so the staff is working right now. Best not to bother them.” He inclined his head towards the swordsman. “Unless you have some useful anatomic knowledge from the future?”

 

Hatz gritted his teeth, and visibly lowered his guard, accepting Hachuling’s words as the truth. Good. Hachuling passed him.

 

“Follow me out, now. I’ll let you visit him again when he’s stable.”

 

“Is there…”

 

Hachuling stopped, waiting for Hatz to resume his thought, despite the pained quivers of frustration in his voice.

 

“Is there truly nothing we can do?”

 

Hachuling remained impassive.

 

Most regulars and rankers only knew basic shinsu healing. This was not something they could solve.

 

But he did remember feeling the same way when A.A. had looked at him with that fear and panic in his eyes, and Hachuling could do nothing to help him.

 

If they could maybe do anything for A.A. to heal him, had they been needed…

 

They were truly helpless in the matter of the mind.

 

“I'll let you see him,” he told Hatz, who whipped towards him, “as promised. But only when the specialist is here to examine him.”

 

“What if he wakes up before that?” Hatz demands.

 

Hachuling shrugged.

 

“With what's just happened, I'm sure they won’t let him.”

 

A patient who was dangerous for himself in that state was simply sedated until they were better.

 

But Hatz, the swordsman…

 

Hatz. Please.

 

There might be something he could do that the rest of them would never be capable of.

 

Not for the first time, he caught himself wondering at what the future held. If he knew, then he would not be feeling like this. Like he had finally reached a wall he could not cross nor overcome. Because his genius mind could not solve the situation now.

 

Only Hatz could, with his knowledge and his empathy, the latter of which Hachuling never did possess. And never once had he regretted it until now.

 

“I'll come get you,” he said, leaving Hatz at the entrance of the medical wing, fleeing back to his small gaming bunker out the resort. “Be ready.”

 

He already knew Hatz would already be waiting by this very same closed door, early morning.

 

***

 

And so they waited. But they did not have to wait long. The shinsu specialist found their way in by the time the afternoon of the next day had come around.

 

As promised, Hachuling met Hatz by the entrance of the medical wing, accompanied by the shinsu specialist. With Lero Ro who insisted on joining for some reason Hachuling did not care to learn about.

 

They were all assembled there, around A.A.’s medical bed, watching him as the specialist inspected him quietly and discussed details quietly with the professionals responsible for A.A.’s continued survival. Hatz sat on Hachuling's usual seat, fists clenched and eyes never leaving the light bearer. Hachuling hung in the back of the room, closer to the wall, half angled towards them, as if in disinterest.

 

His gaze drifted from Hatz, to the specialist, to finally A.A.. Despite the sedative he must have received, and his condition being once again stabilised, his sleep was visibly fitful.

 

“The situation is delicate,” the specialist told them.

 

“But you can help him, right?” Lero Ro frowned at the old man.

 

“I know much about both shinsu and metals, but I cannot guarantee I can help him,” refuted the specialist apologetically.

 

Hachuling bit his tongue thoughtfully, turning to his future brother once more.

 

“What are these shackles, exactly?” he interrogated him.

 

The specialist turned to Hachuling and bowed his head lightly, hands pressing together at his midsection.

 

“I've never seen such metal before. As far as I can tell, its molecular structure is more solid than suspendium, and it is reinforced with a strong, binding shinsu. There is nothing neither I nor any of my colleagues could do to remove them. However…”

 

Hatz perked up, eye sharped zeroing in on him.

 

“Regarding the anti-shinsu particularity of the shackles… there should be something I can do. It will be difficult, and it might cause pain to the patient, but I understand the situation is urgent.”

 

He carefully took A.A.’s wrist in his hand and elevated the manacle there.

 

“Skin contact facilitates the shinsu absorption, and while it does not stop the process, bandaging under the boy's wrists and ankles was a good idea on your doctors’ part. Give me some time to a formula that will disrupt the shinsu flow within the metal, and then I will start operating on it. Once that is done, sealing the artifact piece by piece should not be so difficult. Until then, resume providing shinsu injection to the patient, and to the artifacts.”

 

“Why?”

 

The specialist showed them a schematic drawing on the board.

 

“The artifact absorbs shinsu and stores it in the core of its molecular structure, as you can see here. But since there is only a limited capacity of storage within it, it expels the stored shinsu into the air in small constant quantities. The less space it has, the slower the shinsu stealing process will grow.”

 

“I see,” Hachuling nodded in thanks. “When do you think you will be done?”

 

The specialist hummed, looking back at the said artifact.

 

“Considering the complexity and solidity of both structure and process, it might take me a week.”

 

Hatz clenched his fists tighter, until his joints became white. Hachuling caught it, but did not mention it.

 

“Thank you, sir. What about the chains?”

 

“Ah. No need to worry about those. Except for restraining the patient's movements, their sole purpose is to provide further storage to the artifact. As far as I can tell, this additional storage is already in use, it should not handicap the temporary solution at all. But no, I cannot remove them either.”

 

“That's alright for now,” Hachuling dismissed his apologies. “You'll be paid a bonus for this.”

 

After that, the specialist gave further instructions to the staff before he excused himself. Hachuling also told Lero Ro to pick Quant up so that they could continue the research and discussions of additional troops placements.

 

For a moment, it was only Hatz and Hachuling in the room.

 

Hachuling took a few steps forwards and stopped there, looking at the top of the swordsman's head.

 

“Are you still alright with the mission?”

 

Hachuling would be displeased if the time traveler bailed out. But at the same time, this was a personal request of Hachuling's, not a direct mission from Urek like watching the baby Irregular was. And WolHaikSong was not FUG. They did not like being told no, but they were not so low as to force people.

 

Besides, he could understand, somewhat, if the swordsman wished to stay. They were swimming in uncertainty, after all. The boy might die before he even woke up again.

 

“What will happen, if he doesn’t wake up before I leave?”

 

It seemed Hatz had also understood that the sight of himself would be the only thing that could calm A.A..

 

“Then we'll sedate him until he finishes healing.”

 

“And after that?”

 

Hachuling huffed.

 

“Your friend's wounds are worse than you think,” he said with no regard to the other man's feelings. “He is not going to heal completely in a measly month.”

 

“So you're just going to keep him under for who knows how long?”

 

Of course, Hachuling understood his concern. But neither Jahad nor FUG were ethical, and WolHaikSong did not pretend to be a group of saints either.

 

“I'd rather be prepared than sorry,” he quipped. “But don’t you worry, it’s just until we find a way to control all the variables of his awakening, shinsu or no shinsu.”

 

“That's not reassuring.”

 

Hachuling sighed.

 

“If you're not there, we'll put him under, and only wake him up when he is out of the woods. I'll even put you on the pocket, okay? There, no bloodbath from one side or the other.”

 

Hopefully it would suffice.

 

He realised the swordsman was staring at him. He raised an eyebrow.

 

“What?”

 

Hatz snorted.

 

“Nothing. It’s just that, you're more conciliating than Earrings.”

 

“Earrings?”

 

Hatz looked like he had just caught himself doing something he should not have. He gestured to the bed.

 

“Him.”

 

“Ah.”

 

Well. Who was Hachuling to judge what sort of names close people called each other?

 

Nicknames aside.

 

“I bet. He's very steely, right,” Hachuling chuckled. “I just don’t like unnecessary fights. It’s so boring.”

 

Well. From what Hachuling saw, the steel in A.A.’s veins had melted under the duress of long years of hellfire. But here was to hoping that had only been a consequence of the delirium A.A. had woken up in the day before.

 

“So?”

 

Hatz shook his head.

 

“I appreciate it. I will still go. That's what he would want me to do if he were awake.”

 

Hachuling hummed. He did not know what Hatz meant by that, by what the both of them seemed to want to accomplish. But he was promised answers, after all. Later.

 

When A.A. awoke.

 

“You're a man of your word, aren’t you?” he mused aloud.

 

Hatz nodded.

 

“I… used to be. I don’t know how much of that is left today, but I try to cherish my honour.”

 

A huff, from the swordsman, as he resumed a bit sadly, holding onto his companion's hand.

 

“He would always tell me it was stupid and would get me killed. But look at him now.”

 

“It’s admirable, but not very useful,” Hachuling agreed, when it seemed Hatz was not about to elaborate.

 

His curiosity was an itch just under the skin, but he knew to be patient.

 

“You know the procedure now. I'll tell the staff to let you in. As long as you follow the cleaning process adequately, feel free to come back here as much as you want.”

 

Hatz looked a bit surprised, but he nodded, a grateful glint in his obsidian eyes.

 

“And ring the staff if anything happens,” Hachuling reminded him before leaving, not waiting for a reply.

 

He had more important things than waiting by a stranger's bed. A.A. already had someone more worthy there. He had a strategy to discuss with his two newest employees.

 

After all, his real brother was declared dead out there, being unusually reckless because of his dear Irregular, and the Workshop Battle that would reunite all these good little players was going to be bloody.

 

Hachuling was not ready to sacrifice any pawn to such petty conflicts. So plotting he did, and to work he went.

Notes:

I'm sparing so many details for this when everyone is waiting for the plot.
I don't care. They depart next chap! You'll all be happy! Except Hatz, but that's another topic altogether.

Chapter 5: You're Here

Summary:

Just a piece of old memories. It was falling at the seams now.

It was no skin off his back. He shrugged the cloak off, wrapping it over the injured man. He watched as the frail grip turned into a fist, and blinked away the emotion.

“I’ll be back, Earrings. Keep that for me in the meantime.”

He turned around, not expecting an answer.

Notes:

The departure.

Hatz was not a doctor, but even he could tell that the situation had gotten better since the specialist had started working.

 

He could feel the metal under his fingers, when he touched Khun, thrumming with shinsu aching to be let out. With its property successfully slowed to a mere trickle of shinsu transfer, now the shinsu they gave to Khun stayed , and helped him recover. Of course, things would not definitely get better until the specialist managed to find a way to definitely remove the metal’s property, but that was already a win in Hatz’ book.

 

The Khun he knew was strong. He would make it out in one piece. Hatz had faith in that knowledge.

 

Khun’s breathing was more poised now, and even though his eyebrows remained furrowed, his features were less strained. He did not look in as much pain as before. Hatz hoped it meant Khun was getting better. He did not know for sure. Unfortunately, in the four days Hatz had spent guarding his side, Khun had not woken up once, even though the sedative had been removed from his bloodstream.

 

As for Hatz, he was set to leave in about a minute. He had only come to see his friend one last time before he went.

 

His hand brushed away a few strands of Khun’s air, thin and rough against his fingers, weightless despite their length. The man did not stir.

 

“You know,” Hatz told him quietly, “this does not really fit the image I have of you.”

 

He tried to imagine it either way. The Khun he had known, briefly before the massacre, five hundred years ago. With hair flying in the wind, but also that infuriating smirk of his, that calculating and knowing glint in his eyes as he relished in his own sadistic streak that had made Hatz scowl more than once. No, he told himself ruefully. It made no difference, in the end. What had really changed was that glint, all but faded away. That was what Hatz hated most of all. A week ago now, he had finally found his friend again, but the light bearer had lost both light and edges, neither bright nor cutting. And that vision followed Hatz even now, as Khun’s eyes were closed.

 

That was what had changed.

 

“I never thought I would actually get to say that one day,” he murmured, with faint but mourning amusement. “But you look weak, Earrings. It’s terrifying.”

 

Maybe it had been the serene expression, back then, that had led Hatz to unconsciously convince himself that Khun would survive, that they would find a solution to unfreeze him from his own ice and heal his torn, exploded heart. It had been so strange, like Khun had actually been there with them. He had not been moving, frozen in ice, but so had been his body, his breathing, his failing heart. He had not lost a single gram of muscles, none of his strength leaving him, because he had been taken out of time. No, the loss had come after, with the fevers and the overwhelming anxiety that the man had tried to conceal and that Hatz, in hindsight, could recognise now. And then he had woken up, his mind sharp and awake, as though he had only been asleep a couple of hours, because no time had been stolen away from him, it was him who had been stolen away.

 

Now was different. Now Hatz could see Khun’s chest rise and fall almost regularly, could see the quivers, the strain, and could not help but think, this was time stolen away from them. Any moment, this time, that was slipping away from his fingers, would take Khun with him, because the countdown to Khun’s last exhale was ticking away with it.

 

Now was different because Khun was not frozen. Khun was asleep, and actively struggling for his life. Hatz ached to leave him like this. His fingers let the strands of hair slip and sauntered to Khun’s hand, grasping it gently yet firmly.

 

Hatz knew science and the healing art could do miracles, but he also knew that in the end, it all depended on the mind. So, within his own mind, he begged Khun. Begged so that the glint, the spark that had once characterised him, was not lost forever. He begged it to still be hidden somewhere, within that rising and falling chest, carefully wrapped away from the outside world.

 

It was time. He straightened, delicately letting go of the limp hand. Except he was drawn back as he tried to stand up, his eyes drifting down in surprise.

 

Two pale fingers, weakly entwined into his cloak.

 

Hatz almost feared to move.

 

“Earrings?”

 

No answer. His companion’s eyes remained close, frowning, lips half opened in his sleep. And fingers clutching Hatz’ cloak, unconsciously. As though they were asking for the same thing Hatz had silently prayed for.

 

Don’t go where I can’t follow.

 

Hatz huffed.

 

“Stupid Earrings.”

 

He had refused to take the coats or the capes the staff had presented him with, because he was attached to this cloak. It was the last thing he had from his dear friends.

 

“Ugh. Sorry, but no. You won’t see me wearing that anymore in this lifetime.”

 

“What?! After all the time I’ve spent trying to sew it back together! Why so cruel!”

 

“I told you not to try! It’s stupid, I already bought a new one anyways. Just cut it all off and give it to Anaak.”

 

“Hey! If you’re looking for the trash bin, there’s one just down the street over there!”

 

“Seriously…”

 

“Ah… Just give it here, Shibisu. It would be wasteful otherwise.”

 

“Hatz… my son…”

 

“I’m not your son. And wipe your face.”

 

“Wait, Hatz? Huh… Actually, it fits him somehow.”

 

“Yeah. It looked ugly on you, but it gives him a sort of mysterious, dark brooding aura…”

 

“Yeah… Wait, what did you say about me?!”

 

“Shut up, let’s get going already. The rest are waiting for us back at the square.”

 

Just a piece of old memories. It was falling at the seams now.

 

It was no skin off his back. He shrugged the cloak off, wrapping it over the injured man. He watched as the frail grip turned into a fist, and blinked away the emotion.

 

“I’ll be back, Earrings. Keep that for me in the meantime.”

 

He turned around, not expecting an answer. He closed the door behind him, a nurse entering as he left. Hachuling was waiting for him there, alongside Quant.

 

“Finished? Lero Ro’s preparing the ship,” Hachuling told him when Hatz nodded. “Here.”

 

Hatz took hold of the pocket and identity Hachuling had prepared for him.

 

“I transferred all the information from the old one onto this one. It’s about as good as your old thing, so there shouldn’t be any problem on your side.”

 

“Whose identity did you give me?”

 

Hachuling grinned.

 

“No one’s. I created one in the databank of the Tower. I didn’t give you a strange name, just tweaked some letters in your own name so that it’s still recognisable. People don’t care about same name stuff if you register as a different person,” he explained with an evil smirk that made Hatz’s heart pang in nostalgy.

 

Hachuling was not the person he wanted to see this smirk on.

 

“Thank you for your help,” he bowed, but Hachuling rolled his eyes.

 

“Stop with that already. You’re doing me a favour here.”

 

“I know,” Hatz straightened. “I will find the Khun Aguero Agnis of this time and make sure he’s safe. After that, I’ll stick around until the situation’s gone back to normal.”

 

Hachuling raised an eyebrow.

 

“I’m not even going to question why you think the situation’s going to go back to normal,” he said, “I know you won’t tell me. But yeah, that’s it. I’ll brief you on what you’re supposed to do when you disembark, just…”

 

***

 

Voices.

 

Familiar, confused voices. By intermittence, sometimes for long periods, but sometimes they also quieted, leaving him with his pain and his discomfort.

 

There was something rough in his fingers. Familiar. Something close to his head. And an old smell of steel and warmed wood.

 

There was a reassuring presence by his side. But then, they left, just as he felt his senses clearing somewhat.

 

People were always moving around him. Now, they felt closer. They felt… closer. Closer. And closer. And…

 

It was progressive. The way he felt the veil being removed from his consciousness, from his senses. And it hurt so much, more than usual, it was too sharp, too deep, it was different.

 

Hatz. He remembered Hatz. Where was he?

 

Was he dead?

 

He tried rising, but someone stopped him, with soft gloved hands and kind movements. He did not recognise them, her, he could not care.

 

He heard Hatz’ voice, over the stranger's. He stilled, listening to it, his eyesight still blurry and blinded by the lights. Hatz's voice sounded, low, rhythmic and calm, he did not sound in danger, he was alive, he was fine.

 

He had not been able to save anyone, he had been the reason why they died. But Hatz had survived. And he had saved Hatz.

 

Thank God.

 

“What are you doing? The tissue of your scars is fragile, you shouldn’t stand yet,” someone was telling him, but he did not care, he just…

 

He needed to make sure.

 

In the end, the woman - not them, not these people whose touches always hurt him, this one was gentle, patient, featherlight - ended up supporting his weight. She was no threat, no offensive shinsu in her body, he let her, narrow-minded to this one existence behind that door.

 

He opened it, with much difficulty. The voices stopped.

 

Ah. There he was.

***

 

Khun.

 

Standing wobbly just outside the door, with a nurse’s support, hands gripping her arms tight, trembling, and miraculously no red on the immaculate bandages, his medical robe unstained, Hatz’s cloak draped over his frail shoulders. And his eyes, blue and humid, wide open. Staring at him.

 

Khun was awake.

 

Oh, gods of this Tower. Khun was awake.

 

Hatz took a careful step, hesitation stemming from disbelief. It felt like a dream come true. A dream that Hatz had been waiting for since five hundred years ago.

 

Khun also came closer, and Hatz vaguely heard Hachuling lecture the nurse because Khun was not supposed to be standing and walking less he reopened his precarious wounds, but for this one moment, Hatz felt like they could all deal with this later. He approached one quivering hand, and Khun’s much smaller fingers came entwining themselves with his.

 

This was real. Those eyes, frantic, disbelieving and concerned but also, hopeful, were open, staring up at him as though Hatz was all that was left of the world, and he felt exactly the same.

 

Khun’s finger slipped down to Hatz’ pulse. Hatz was afraid it must have quickened with the emotion. But Khun seemed not to mind. He pressed his lips together and his eyes furrowed in a strange way, as though he was attempting his hardest not to shed any tears.

 

‘You’re here,’ he mouthed without voice.

 

“Hey,” Hatz answered softly, as though speaking any more loudly would trigger some sort of delirium, or make Khun drop to the brink of death again. “Yeah, I’m here. You saved my life. Thank you.”

 

Khun nodded, a few times, like he could not believe his eyes either. Hatz felt the narrowing of his throat as the emotion threatened to overwhelm him.

 

“We’re both safe,” he managed to choke out. “You’re safe, here. Hachuling will stay with you, alright? I don’t know what you were planning, stupid Earrings, but no more swords to the gut, please. I’ll be back in no time, so you better have healed when I return. Okay?”

 

Khun threw one quick sharp glance at Hachuling, as though he had only just noticed, but otherwise, merely pressed Hatz’ forehead to his own and closed his eyes. Hatz listened to their breathing, letting it calm his nerves.

 

Khun was alright. Everything had gone to hell but them, but they were going to be fine.

 

Then, Khun spoke. It was a mere whisper, scratchy and damaged, almost inaudible, but from this distance, Hatz could hear it.

 

“Thank you. For… surviving.”

 

Hatz gasped quietly.

 

Febrile, he placed a hand against Khun’s throat. Khun flinched, but let him, staring back at him with complete transparency, the way he never did before.

 

What he felt there made him speak the next words.

 

“I’ll kill them,” he swore. “I promise you, they’ll never touch you again.”

 

Except Khun did not appear to pay any attention to Hatz’ words. He dug his broken nails into Hatz’ palm all of a sudden, drawing blood. Hatz carefully did not hiss, merely frowned as he watched Khun proceed, drawing a pattern of blood on his palm. There was a current of shinsu, then the blood anchored itself within his skin, turning into a dark red tattoo.

 

Then, Khun faltered, clutching at the fabric of the cloak and Hatz’ arm. Hachuling caught him.

 

“That’s enough of you now,” he tutted disapprovingly. “You’re literally falling asleep on your feet. Don’t worry for that swordsman,” he reassured Khun a bit more softly. “He’ll be fine on his own for a month. You focus on recovering while he goes out to play with the regulars.”

 

Khun tensed in Hachuling’s grasp, but said nothing, visibly recognising him as someone safe. That was good. Hachuling accompanied Khun back inside, but not before sending Hatz one last glance that Hatz gave back. An understanding passed between them.

 

Hatz felt reassured, knowing Hachuling would take care of Khun for him.

 

Before they disappeared out the door, Khun turned back to look at him over his shoulder, uncaring of the thin long hair getting caught in his eyelashes. It was brief, but both longing and reassured.

 

Hatz repressed the tight pressure in his eyes, burning away at his composure. He was glad.

 

That he was able to talk to Khun, at last, before he had to leave.

 

He turned around and left the medical wing. There was no more time to waste now. Lero Ro was waiting for him at the ship

 

But thanks to this final conversation, he felt at ease now. By the time he had exited the resort, he felt calm and serene. Determined. Lero Ro took one look at him and frowned, as he usually did when he saw something dangerous.

 

“Are you ready to depart? Where’s Blueberry?”

 

Hatz nodded.

 

“He’s busy helping Khun settle down,” he explained, and Lero Ro’s face slackened with surprise, then softened.

 

“I’m glad to learn he has woken,” the blond ranker said, not unkindly.

 

Hatz let a brief smile through.

 

“Yes. Me too.”

 

Without another word. They went in, and the WolHaikSong agent started the ship.

 

“Remember the plan?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good.”

 

On their way they went.

 

To the Thirtieth Floor.

Chapter 6: The Chess Board

Summary:

As he entered his place, which was not half bad but very empty, he came to the conclusion that his main problem was not waiting.

It was indecision.

Hatz, as a time traveller, had the power to change the present for the better or for worse. But did that mean he should? And if he did, what should he change? All he knew was that, in the short hundred years that separated them from the Massacre, he needed them to be strong enough to escape, or silent enough to have gone under the radar of the most dangerous Family Heads up there.

What could Hatz even change, so early on?

Should he stop Bam from gaining control over the first piece of the Thorn? Having come back so early meant that a lot of all-encompassing possibilities had become available in front of Hatz. But what would that change, except making the Irregular weaker? It would not help them escape destiny. Hatz knew it because he had watched his Khun try his damndest and create so many powerful spells, yet never had he been able to find a way to reverse a prophecy already written.

Bam would have to confront Jahad, eventually.

Not that Jahad had been the one to kill Bam in the end.

Notes:

I had this ready yesterday night, but in my bed with my phone *shrugs* you all know by now my phone hates to say yes to the italics, so I had to wait until now. Enjoy!

“You’re a no name ranker who acquired a post as guard employee of the Workshop, but you’re on paid leave right now, so you’re free to stay on the Thirtieth Floor as long as you want, you can even leave the Floor for your vacations- and WolHaikSong is secretly paying for your accommodations,” Lero Ro recapitulated as they neared their destination.

 

“I remember. And you’re a full time guard employee as well, but you’re not on leave,” Hatz responded drily. “And Quant won’t be far either.”

 

“That’s right. We made sure to station Quant at a distance from both your post and mine, just in case.”

 

Just in case Quant could not contain himself and spoke to them as Lero Ro and the swordsman from the future, Hatz thought with an inward roll of his eyes. That sounded like his former teacher. Hatz repressed the fond, nostalgic smile at the thought.

 

He had had many better teachers since then, he told himself, falsely firm. Maybe Quant ought to learn from them too.

 

“Don’t worry,” Lero Ro seemed to read his thoughts. “He’s an idiot, but he’s an amazing scout, that’s for sure. He’s just a bit rusty.”

 

“If you say so,” Hatz already knew.

 

Anyways. This arrangement was the best for Hatz, since it left him with free hands to look for Khun until the Workshop Battle really started. They had a small month, and then Hatz’s false identity, Hatsu, would be back on duty.

 

As soon as Lero Ro deposited him somewhere safe, Hatz made his way to the city, the key to his apartment in his hands. He pondered as he walked.

 

With this much time to do as he pleased, he was unsure where he should start. He could try to find Khun immediately but… As far as he knew, Khun was still on the Twenty-Ninth Floor, and unless Hatz’ memories failed him, Khun had never told where he had spent that month faking his death exactly. So, unless he was determined to search the entire Floor underneath, Hatz would likely not find him until the preliminaries of the Workshop Battle.

 

He could, however, check on his former team, to make sure they were still alright. As far as he remembered, by then Shibisu, his past self and the others had been planning their revenge on Jue Viole Grace by then.

 

He blinked as the thought crossed his mind. That was right. The fight between Jue Viole Grace and the team. It should not be a problem but, the whole thing seemed so pointless now, from Hatz’ point of view.

 

As he entered his place, which was not half bad but very empty, he came to the conclusion that his main problem was not waiting.

 

It was indecision.

 

Hatz, as a time traveller, had the power to change the present for the better or for worse. But did that mean he should? And if he did, what should he change? All he knew was that, in the short hundred years that separated them from the Massacre, he needed them to be strong enough to escape, or silent enough to have gone under the radar of the most dangerous Family Heads up there.

 

What could Hatz even change, so early on?

 

Should he stop Bam from gaining control over the first piece of the Thorn? Having come back so early meant that a lot of all-encompassing possibilities had become available in front of Hatz. But what would that change, except making the Irregular weaker? It would not help them escape destiny. Hatz knew it because he had watched his Khun try his damndest and create so many powerful spells, yet never had he been able to find a way to reverse a prophecy already written.

 

Bam would have to confront Jahad, eventually.

 

Not that Jahad had been the one to kill Bam in the end.

 

But Bam taking the pieces of the Thorn for himself had been what had hurtled him head first into the prophecy’s trials. If only they could wait, just a few years longer, maybe a few decades… until Bam was ready, more stable as a person. Because allowing Bam to control the power of the Thorn would be an immediate trigger that would not allow him to be anything less than ‘The Slayer Candidate’ and ‘The Boy of the Prophecy’.

 

So, what needed to be done was… hiding the Thorn.

 

It would surely displease the Red Witch, but Hatz believed her to have forgotten an important part of this Tower’s story in her haste to see her God become free of the threat that Jahad posed. The current King of this Tower, as well as all his retainers, were Irregulars as well. Their paths would be more muddled than Bam’s, and their actions completely sudden. It was as an indirect result of these irregularities that Hatz found himself in the past today. Because of them that he had to live five hundred years knowing his most treasured companions had died and that the last one alive was being tortured away from his sight, all this time. By quarreling Gods.

 

Hatz hated them all.

 

Even now, that Khun was out of reach from him. The only one he could see, hear and touch was in an unknown location, and the only ones likely to be aware of where that could be would be the members of his former team. Which happened to be…

 

Ran and Novick. Who were with Bam. But where was Bam exactly? Where had he hidden himself in the wait of the Workshop Battle?

 

Hatz was not simply driven by subjective desperation as he focused all his intellectual capacities into discovering where Khun had hidden himself. Even from an outsider point of view, Khun had played a key role in the Workshop Battle. He had been the only player aware of all the pieces’ positions on the chess board, aside from Hwa Ryun, and he had maneuvered his moves accordingly. Since Khun was the one with the most influence on the chess pieces right now, it was the most important thing for Hatz to be able to find him early on, if he also wanted to have an influence in the Battle.

 

But again, he thought, how much influence did he want to have on this event?

 

All he knew was that, the earlier he acted, the more the course of their futures would change. But in what direction?

 

Earrings would know what to do, he thought bitterly. He was stuck in a loop no amount of reasoning could get him out of. He tried to think about it differently.

 

What would Khun ask him to do right now if he managed to find him? Hachuling’s request had been to find Khun, make sure he was alright, and help him get out of there alive. Khun always knew not to waste an occasion to use a pawn at his disposal. So, if Khun had Hatz under his hand on the board, where would he put him? What had been preoccupying Khun at the time of the Workshop Battle?

 

One. Sweet and Sour’s strength. Unless Hatz found them, there was nothing he could do with that.

 

Two. Bam’s whereabouts and current state. Hatz could try to find him.

 

Three. FUG’s plans. Hatz remembered those enough. He recalled that all the pieces had been dispersed at the time, the communication between Khun’s team, Viole’s team and their team had been nearly entirely cut off, and for all their informations to make the round, it had taken an ungodly amount of time that they could have spared doing things more useful. They would have been taken off guard less often if they could have done that. Hatz also remembered why that was.

 

Hwa Ryun. She had asked Khun to keep quiet about his survival. She had constantly been monitoring the flux of information through both discreet conduits of all kinds and Emily. It had all turned well for her goal, but Hatz had already concluded that he needed to steal the Thorn away so that Bam would not be able to get it, and so Hwa Ryun’s plans would have to be thwarted. Hatz could do something about that… later. Because, now, where to start?

 

Wait.

 

Emily.

 

Cassano. Rachel.

 

Of course, he thought to himself, upset that he had not thought of it earlier.

 

Four. Rachel. Khun would want to find Rachel, take revenge and learn of what she was planning. And Rachel had been planning on stealing Emily for herself. For that purpose, she had enrolled Cassano, whom Hatz himself, six hundred years ago, had followed while he did just that.

 

Making sure that Emily did not fall in Rachel’s hands, and using Emily to distribute information to the right people. One stone. Two birds.

 

There was one issue, though. Hatz himself had never been interested in Emily, and had never looked into acquiring one of these devices on which she could be used. And if he had once known, he could not remember, now. It had been too long ago. But he knew people who did have that device.

 

Finally, his plans were inter-connecting. He was finally seeing the path he had to walk, for now.

 

He needed to find Shibisu and the rest of the team, first. Then, everything would fall into place.

 

His pocket hummed quietly. He had not noticed how long he had spent pacing in between these four walls, just thinking. He was hungry now. He took a look at his device, and smiled.

 

Blueberry, best hacker in the Tower and past-time life saver - Your friend’s asleep right now, he’s stable. The specialist’s starting to see a clear solution, we’ll see tomorrow how his first attempt goes. I’ll update you then, same hour.

 

Yes. Hatz was going to have to modify that contact name. But he was thankful nonetheless. Waking up and walking just to be able to see Hatz must have exhausted Khun before he left. He was glad to know it had not caused any delay in Khun’s recovery.

 

He typed a short reply before he prepared for the night. It was as good a time as any to get some rest. He managed to get a good eight hours of sleep during the night, sword just within reach in case he was attacked - which was unlikely unless these so-called Gods had managed to rip a hole through time and space to chase after him and Khun. Hatz would like to see them try, he thought viciously. Khun’s spells were flawless, and Hatz had faith that they had gotten nothing, absolutely nothing out of Khun regarding spell casting. There was no way they could follow.

 

He woke up the next day, refreshed but restless despite the sleep.

 

He was going to see them again, after all.

 

It was something he apprehended a lot. Being able to observe them once more. Shibisu, Anaak, Endorsi, Laure. Verdi, Vespa, Alexai.

 

He remembered their voices well. A thousand arguments fluttering at the top of his memories, bickering laced with the loud sound of their emotions, the false cries of Shibisu, the annoyance of Anaak and the indignation of Endorsi. Awkwardness, misery, teases. So much.

 

But their faces had begun to fade from his memory.

 

It was a shame, because Hatz wanted to hold onto them so bad. He would not be able to bear it if he learned that the memories he had kept of them had been altered by time. That would be just one more thing that he would have failed to protect, but also… the mark that he had really lost everything, he thought to himself, lost in his own emotions.

 

He was afraid, in a way. Of seeing them again. Of learning that he might have been holding on to illusions, distorted by his own mind. Even though the originals were so much more worthy of respect and remembrance.

 

Cowardice, he accused himself of. Was it the reason why he steeled himself for hours upon hours before he left to find them, by the time the night had nearly fallen again? He told himself it was because they were all homes in the evening, but always out during the day. Endorsi always kept her Emily device on her. His best attempt at taking it from her was when she was sleeping.

 

Though, he knew he was being a fool. What would he do, steal it from her? Hatz’ memories were faulty, what if she had needed it badly during the Workshop Battle? But was he really ready to reveal himself now just so he could negotiate for it?

 

Or maybe the whole thing was an excuse he had cooked up to be close to them again.

 

Hatz shook his head, clenching his fist at the hilt of his katana.

 

Efficiency, he reminded himself. Endorsi would rage and brood, but she would just have to buy herself another one. Hatz still knew her well enough to know it would be no skin off her back.

 

He entered through the window, hyper aware of Shibisu's observer's range. He heard soft voices in the living room. He drew the hood of the new dark cloak Lero Ro had provided for him over his head, and slipped in quietly.

 

He wondered briefly if he should just show himself and pretend to be the younger Hatz, but decided against it. He had no clear idea of where his younger self was, and his friends would notice that he was taller than usual.

 

He used his own observer to see through what he knew was Endorsi's door - the way he seemed to instinctively remember things when he was confronted to them made him ache with nostalgia. She seemed absent. That was strange. Endorsi had a voice nothing but soft. He would have heard her if she had been talking with the others. Maybe she was still in the bathroom, or something.

 

He snuck in. Immediately, even in the dark, he noticed what he was looking for. A rectangular device on Endorsi's desk, with a tactile screen, smaller than a pocket. He made his way towards it, and grabbed it. Dubious, he pushed the only button he found to put it on, making sure that was what he thought it was.

 

Bingo. The disturbing doll face of the Artificial Intelligence stared back at him in the message app.

 

He stored it away. But before he could make his way to the closest window, he heard footsteps quickly getting closer, and a voice he knew well echoing outside.

 

“Anaak, I know you're in here, if this is another one of your pranks-”

 

Hatz leaped to Endorsi's window the moment he heard her and fumbled briefly with the lock, not wanting to break the glass, that would be too damning. With a bit of luck, she might think she had forgotten to close it.

 

No such luck. That brief amount of time was enough for Endorsi to open the door wide and for Hatz to catch a glimpse of her from under his hood, just as he slipped away.

 

“Hey!” she yelled, and he heard her running, but he did not stay long enough to see what she was about to do.

 

He sent a shinsu bait down the street and hid his presence as he concealed himself under the balcony. Endorsi impulsively followed the shinsu projection of his observer. She would not be tricked for more than five seconds, he knew, and he quickly made his way around the building, before jumping to the next and making his escape into the night.

 

That was close.

 

But he had seen her again. Even in the dark, it had been clear as day. A single ray of artificial skylight and the contrasting light behind her, that had been enough for him to discern her features.

 

She had been younger. But it was her.

 

He remembered her. She still had those same eyes and that familiar expression. It was… so jarring.

 

It should be impossible.

 

The details of his memories had never been so clear.

 

He breathed out, trying to regain his countenance. Endorsi had seen him, he tried to remind himself, build a sense of alarm within himself. Or at most, she had seen the figure of his dark cloak, nothing more. She could not have recognised him.

 

Hell. He wished she could.

 

A message came in.

 

Hachuling - No progress for now in practice, but there might be a theoretical breakthrough. No one died :D

 

Hatz huffed. And focused.

 

That was right. He was on a mission.

 

Live, he remembered those words like he had never had another purpose, even though there had been no voice to stress them. Save them.

 

They were his friends. But before he could call them so again, he needed to save them.

 

And that started now. On the Thirtieth Floor. He fished Emily's device out of storage and typed, unhesitantly.

 

Where is Khun Ran?

 

The intelligence answered, after a mere dozen of seconds.

 

Emily - Presumed Dead, Hand of Arlene.

 

Hatz gritted his teeth.

 

Where is Jue Viole Grace?

 

This time, only a second was necessary.

 

Hatz closed the app for now.

 

He admitted that seeing Endorsi had rattled him. He would worry about Rachel tomorrow. Now, he needed to find Ran.

 

And make sure Khun was alright.

Chapter 7: This Kind of Acceptance

Summary:

“Rankers aren’t allowed to mess with regulars,” Hatz reminded them all.

“They technically didn’t mess with us, they just stole a device.”

“Argh!” Endorsi groaned. “This is so frustrating! Isu, give me your Emily app.”

Shibisu gave her a pointed look.

“Now’s not the time, Endorsi. This won’t solve our problem.”

“Tch,” Vespa grunted. “If I’d been there I could have followed that human’s scent all on my own…”

“If this had been Khun, he’d have already figured it out.”

A heavy silence followed Anaak’s quiet words.

Notes:

Today I present to you:

more angst, different points of views.

Enjoy :)))))

It was completely accidental. Viole had simply been walking down the hall and had been making his way to his bedroom from the training ground. The nocturnal lights shone from the window.

 

The view was nice and nostalgic, but Viole had too much on his mind to admire it properly. He almost single-mindedly made his way back to the dorms with the firm intention of getting some sleep this time. It had been nights and nights since the last time his sleep had been peaceful. All he could see in his dreams were people yelling at each other, the Hand of Arlene falling on itself in a loud explosion, and blue hair slipping away from within his reach. It never failed to wake him up. But his brain had become particularly vicious, recently, each day another one when Khun was not showing any sign of life.

 

Viole knew, reasonably, that Khun would not show signs of life even if he were alive, that of which Viole had absolute faith in. But it did not stop the nightmares, and the pervasive fear.

 

It did not stop the visions of a bloodied inert body mouthing his old name as cobalt eyes dulled to oblivion, without Viole ever being able to reach him. And these visions did not simply startle him awake, a scream in his throat ready to be let out and tears in his eyes shedding without his consent. They kept him awake, alternating between sitting on his bed and begging in silence to whichever superior force was out there, or leaving his bed for the training room as a way to let off some steam. Needless to say, sleep deprivation had gotten a hold of him.

 

But Viole knew he needed to sleep. It was primordial if his performance was to be the best it could be. And he had all the reasons he could come up with the keep himself alert, especially with two hostages no one but him seemed to appreciate.

 

He liked Novick well enough, he thought distractedly. Novick was powerful, but did not boast about it at all, unless he was trying to disorient Ran which never did work. He was observant, but unobtrusive. When Viole looked at him, he thought, perhaps Novick had been Khun’s eyes.

 

Then, there was Ran. Ran was… different, from what Viole could have imagined. Just his name and his colorings reminded him of Khun, but what was most strikingly similar were those eyes. Not the colour, but the intent. Piercing, looking, searching, catching every single detail to alleviate their burning curiosity, coldly taking in all information they could get their hands on… but the wariness also. The wariness that was so familiar, yet had never been directed at Viole, except back then at the Hand of Arlene. Ran was familiar and novel all at once. Ran was… to begin with, Viole had always thought Khun disliked his whole family, but then again he had learned since then, that nuances did exist.

 

For Ran to have been in Khun’s team, they must have been friendly.

 

For Ran to break into a fury as soon as Khun disappeared, they must have been family.

 

Maybe the biggest difference was that. Emotion. Whereas Khun had almost perfect control over his inner emotions and never let them run loose without his consent, Ran was more impulsive. He did not care if one could understand what was going on in his mind unless it was about fighting. He was confident enough in his assurance that no one would question him even if they found a weakness in his emotional reasonings. And Ran cared. He cared about Khun, the way Viole had seen no one else care about his best friend except perhaps himself, and it made him happy. So happy.

 

But Ran was not Khun. Far from it. He was so very different, the way Viole guessed family members were, and yet some things were similar, some things that they either had picked from each other or from the place they were raised in. It physically hurt sometimes, to see it. And Ran… Ran seemed to understand who he was. Because Ran believed him, when Viole told him Khun was alive. It had not been blind trust. He had seen that analytic look in his eyes, searching him, archiving all that the boy knew about him until he reached his conclusion. Just like when Khun looked at him, Viole almost felt nervous.

 

He remembered that feeling. When Khun would look at him, analysing him quietly, until he seemed to reach satisfaction. Bam would always feel this way. Like Khun had seen right through him and picked him apart and up and figured him all out, but showed nothing of it. Questions used to appear in his mind. What did he see? What did he learn? What did he guess? What does he not know? How did he do it? What gave me away?

 

Viole missed it, the way he would search him and deem him worthy, no matter what came next, the way Khun trusted him just like this. With these eyes. Something conditional on Bam’s person, but also genuine and never taken back.

 

Viole once had seen a wonderful beast, majestuous and big. The creature had watched him, wary, searched him for signs of hostility, for lies, for intent, for unappreciated sounds, anything, and then, miraculously, it had relaxed in his presence. As though it knew Viole used to be good, used to be worthy of that trust.

 

It felt like such an honour, this kind of trust. This kind of acceptance.

 

And then it turned into guilt, when his FUG companion at the time had taken the beast down with no remorse.

 

Viole did not want this to happen to Khun, or his brother.

 

He needed to be stronger, to protect them.

 

Caught in this loop of thoughts, he almost missed the flicker of blue glowing under the artificial lights of the night, on the vast balcony he passed by. It caught his eye nonetheless. And then, he heard the voices.

 

He hid behind the wall, close to the half opened window. There was Ran there, and someone else, too.

 

A threat. An enemy. What? What is it? Who?

 

“...am I supposed to know you’re saying the truth?”

 

“For the last damn time, you don’t need to,” someone hissed, voice deep and familiar, in a way. “I didn’t talk to him because we don’t get along much, but he is my friend. And I need to find him.”

 

“He’s dead, just give up.”

 

Who were they talking about? It could not be.

 

A sigh.

 

“I know he’s not. Trust me on this, your brother is not dead. But I need to know, Ran, if your brother decided to fake his death and bring along a group of strangers with him, where would he go?”

 

That was a far too specific question, Viole realised as the fog cleared in his head. One he could accurately visualise.

 

Khun, faking his death. Sweet and Sour, finding him. The tracker in his pocket.

 

Who was this man?!

 

There was silence for a moment, then the older man talked again.

 

“I can bring you with me to see him if you’re so suspicious. But I need a clue.”

 

“The Twenty-Ninth Floor,” Ran answered deadbeat.

 

“I already know that!” the stranger replied quickly. “But you were in his team for a long time, were you not? You must have been one of the only ones whom he let in on his plans. You must know where he would go, in such a situation. Please. Tell me.”

 

“And if I don’t believe you?” Viole recognised the provocative tone in Ran’s voice. “Are you going to stupidly follow the directions knowing I could send you into a trap? Or, who knows, in the middle of nowhere?”

 

“... You really are his brother.”

 

Ran kept quiet for a moment, full of tension. Something had changed. Viole dared to glance through the windows. The stranger was covered by a brown cloak, his features completely hidden in the shadows. He wore practical boots and a saber was at his side. Eventually, Ran looked away.

 

“Fine. A.A. had a private residence on the Twenty-Ninth Floor, away from the regular compounds and the city. I’ll write you the approximate coordinates.”

 

Viole swallowed anxiously. There was something he was missing. The person who spoke to Ran, did he know him? Ran trusted them enough to tell them where Khun was.

 

Ran, took a notebook out of his pocket and noted something on it, rapidly. Then, he took the page out and gave it to the stranger. But then his grip tightened on it and his voice turned into a threatening hiss.

 

“On one condition though. You’ll bring me proof of his survival, ink on paper. If you fail, I will hunt you down and kill you.”

 

Viole doubted that was possible. Even from there, and with all auras dissimulated, the hooded stranger emanated something strange… powerful. He did not think even he could take him in a fight. Yet the stranger did not remark on it, and when he replied, there was a smile in his tone.

 

“Thank you, sincerely.”

 

The hooded figure then rose his head towards where Viole was observing it. With one last nod to Ran, he disappeared into the night. Viole was certain the man had noticed his presence, but he felt unsure as to when he had been identified. Maybe from the beginning. A question then appeared in Viole’s mind.

 

How much had he been allowed to hear, instead of him just happening upon this conversation?

 

Ran turned towards him. He seemed he had not been as discreet as he would have liked.

 

“You can come out, now.”

 

Viole went out, approaching Ran with light steps. He glanced at the night sky. Of course, all around the city, there was no sight of the stranger.

 

“You know where Khun-ssi is?” Viole asked him quietly.

 

Ran tilted his head.

 

“I have a hunch,” he said with a shrug. “But it’s not like I’m going to tell you.”

 

Of course. But Ran had told this man. Who had claimed he had been one of Khun’s friends.

 

“Do you really not know him?”

 

“No. But I believe him.”

 

“Even though you’ve only just met him.”

 

Ran did not look away from the sleeping city.

 

“He knew more about my brother than anyone in the last six years have been allowed to learn.”

 

And that was an answer all on its own, was it not?

 

The voice had been familiar. So familiar, if different. Older.

 

Viole, no…

 

Bam, too, knew this person.

 

***

 

“Since I’m telling you, what don’t you believe me!”

 

Shibisu winced discreetly at the princess’ loud protest.

 

“It’s not that we don’t believe you, Endorsi,” he attempted to appease her. “But you have to admit this is suspicious. What kind of thief would come in only to take one social intelligence device from you? They could just as well have bought one, if they’re so skilled.”

 

No one with skill remained jobless or moneyless. Shibisu could guarantee that now.

 

“What tells you it’s the only thing they’ve stolen!?” Endorsi almost shrieked, and Anaak ended up elbowing her.

 

“Calm down already, you hag,” she growled, annoyed already. “We’ve searched the house thrice, nothing but your stupid phone was stolen.”

 

“That means all they were after was my personal information!” Endorsi put her fists on her hip, visibly angered and unnerved.

 

Hate rolled his eyes.

 

“If you’ve been typing personal information into that thing, then obviously anyone could have accessed it from any other device out there,” he remarked, on point. “There was no need to steal your app.”

 

“Hah? Like you’d even know how it works, you don’t even know what it’s for!”

 

“I’m still cultured enough to understand what an online AI is capable of doing! I’m just not interested.”

 

“So the archaic swordsman knows what an AI is-”

 

“Guys!” Shibisu interrupted, his voice more authoritative than it usually was, and it worked, bringing silence to the group. “Let’s focus on what’s really important here. Someone, and we don’t know who, entered our apartment without anyone realising it, went to Endorsi’s room and stole her Emily, and then left. Did I get that right?”

 

Endorsi puffed angrily, but she nodded, crossing her arms on her chest. Shibisu nodded back, satisfied with her cooperation.

 

“Good. Did you manage to catch a glimpse of the thief, Endorsi?”

 

“Like I know,” she growled. “He was enshrouded in a coat, and that’s all I can say. He was half gone already when I entered.”

 

“Did you get a feel of his shinsu signature?”

 

“I know his observer’s,” she gritted out ironically. “How dare he lure me with such a measly trick…”

 

Shibisu rebounded on it.

 

“Right. We also know this mystery guy or girl is an expert at using observers. They are definitely stronger than mere D-Rank regulars,” he admitted.

 

“There’s no higher than D-Rank regulars on the Workshop Battle’s list this time,” Aleksai informed them helpfully.

 

“For all we know it might not even be a regular,” quipped Verdi, mindlessly fumbling with the paws of her current plushy.

 

“Rankers aren’t allowed to mess with regulars,” Hatz reminded them all.

 

“They technically didn’t mess with us, they just stole a device.”

 

“Argh!” Endorsi groaned. “This is so frustrating! Isu, give me your Emily app.”

 

Shibisu gave her a pointed look.

 

“Now’s not the time, Endorsi. This won’t solve our problem.”

 

“Tch,” Vespa grunted. “If I’d been there I could have followed that human’s scent all on my own…”

 

“If this had been Khun, he’d have already figured it out.”

 

A heavy silence followed Anaak’s quiet words.

 

For a while, no one said anything. The tension was thick. And Shibisu could not help but think, she was right.

 

Khun would have known.

 

But Shibisu was not Khun. And Khun was not there anymore.

 

All because of that Jue Viole Grace. Every fucking reminder brought them back to that man. Shibisu swore he would have his head.

 

“Don’t compare us to him,” Endorsi snapped gravely. “Isu, what do you have?”

 

Shibisu shook himself out of his self-deprecative grief.

 

“I… the culprit was either targeting us specifically because he knew we had Emily devices, or he wanted us to ask ourselves questions. I can’t figure out his goal, but I’ll look into the municipal list of people in the city…”

 

She combed a hand through her hair irritatedly.

 

“Knew it. You have nothing,” and Shibisu repressed a flinch at that. “So just give me your app. Maybe Emily will be able to help us if you can’t.”

 

That almost hurt, being compared to a damn machine. But Shibisu was too curious and eager for a distraction not to dig deeper.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, retrieving the phone and handing it to her.

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Endorsi told him while typing on his phone.

 

She showed them the text she wrote.

 

Shibisu - Hey Emily, it’s Endorsi. Someone stole my device. Can you tell me who it is?

 

Well. After all, that was one way to gain information.

 

Khun would tell him it was unreliable. Shibisu’s heart clenched painfully at the unprompted thought.

 

Emily - I’m so sorry, that is confidential information.

 

Endorsi clicked her tongue. As for Shibisu, this got him thinking. Did that mean that whoever had taken Emily’s device from Endorsi was a highly esteemed personality whose identity had to be kept a secret, or did it mean that that person had specifically forbidden Emily from telling anyone about their identity personally?

 

Both could make sense. Smart fellow.

 

Shibisu - Then can you tell me what he needed it for?

 

The next answer took more time to be sent, as though the necessary information for that answer was scattered and needed to be gathered and structured into a coherent reply. Then, when it came out, it was just as unexpected as the first, if not more.

 

It also froze Shibisu’s blood in his veins, with both rage and intense confusion as the words insinuated themselves under his skin, already eating away at his most recent beliefs and hatred.

 

Emily - “Jue Viole Grace did not kill Khun Aguero Agnis.”

 

Emily - “FUG did.”

 

***

 

Sounds again. Blurry vision and indistinct noise that gave him a headache. Consciousness came back to him once more. His sense of time had been messed up a long time ago, he could not tell whether it was day or night, or how much time had passed since the last time he had been awake.

 

He could not speak. But this time he remembered why.

 

And this time, instead of a sudden load of intense sensations and dizziness, it all trickled back into his conscious mind slowly. He knew. He remembered. He wondered.

 

Why was he not dead?

 

He should have died.

 

“Hey.”

 

Slowly, the movement difficult and somewhat painful, he turned towards the source of the voice. It was unfamiliar from how long he had spent without it, and at the same time dreadfully familiar. It felt almost comforting if he did not know any better.

 

A dead person stared back at him, skin tone healthy and eyes glinting with life. Worry, as well. A semi-smirk that should send waves of wariness rushing through him but somehow only gave him warmth.

 

“You’re awake again,” Hachuling greeted him. “How much do you remember?”

 

He tried to move. Slowly. He had yet to understand whether he had been rescued somehow or had become a prisoner yet in another place. The shackles and chains were still there, but they did not rub agonisingly against his wrists anymore. And he felt better.

 

He felt shinsu.

 

“WolHaikSong,” he spoke.

 

WolHaikSong had done that. Should they have had the resources? Probably not. But he slowly started to recall why WolHaikSong was there, or rather why he had returned to WolHaikSong once more, when it should not exist anymore.

 

“That’s right, time traveller. Or should I call you my cute little brother?” Hachuling teased, not unkindly.

 

His brother looked relieved.

 

That was right, he reminded himself numbingly.

 

He should have died.

 

But…

 

“Hatz.” The word, more than anything, explained everything to him.

 

Hatz had saved him, even though he should not have.

 

"Yeah, that guy was here. He left about a week ago, now, but he's fine." He heard, distantly, but it hardly mattered.

 

More importantly, Hatz was here. He had succeeded. Even though his own presence here had been unaccounted for, a dream that had long faded from the dredges of his unconscious.

 

To think that at last, the God of the Outside had smiled upon his existence.

 

They were back in time.

 

Just like that, the time they came from… had been erased.

 

And they are all alive, again.

Chapter 8: Those Sharp Eyes

Summary:

He felt so disrespectful, yet he could not stop himself. For feeling such utter shock and relief at finally seeing him again, speaking to him again, hearing him, even though his own time's Khun was waiting for him in WolHaikSong.

It almost felt wrong. Like he did not value what he had enough. But he did. He was so grateful for this chance.

But then why did it hurt so bad? To see them again.

Hatz was a warrior, and he had been taught to face his demons head on.

Had he become a coward, in his centuries of hiding? Or had he simply become weak?

Or perhaps, he thought, with a strange sense of sad dread, I have reached my limit a long time ago, and now I'm tearing at the seams.

Notes:

Hi guys! I had a bit of a downtime for a while, and unfortunately my brain works on energy to create inspiration and when I'm down I'm emotionally exhausted and I don't eat (nearly as much) and therefore I do not provide energy for my brain and therefore I cannot write. (and I get bored and crazy and sadder because of it but that's a separate issue and oh damn I sound like Khun)
Buuuut! I'm here! :D
Everyone says thanks to Khun's non-ironical somewhat funny domestic habits of running himself to the ground and finding it perfectly normal despite his strict (true) ideas that health and competency are connected, with those two elements somehow harmonising together perfectly. I needed this.

Hatz had gone down to the Twenty-Ninth Floor.

 

Thankfully, Ran's given location had not been false. It had, however, been vague. Hatz found himself scanning the whole area for hours until he found a trace of life. But then he found what he had been looking for. It was carefully protected with a weak lighthouse shield so as not to bring attention over it.

 

Hatz decided not to break it. He recognised Khun's signature shinsu handling. It meant Khun was safe and sound behind that barrier, in his private property with Sweet & Sour.

 

So, Khun was hiding from the world. Hatz had already known that, of course, but this only reinforced the idea in his mind. He wished he could come closer, to learn more about Khun's goals for the Workshop Battle precisely.

 

For example, did he need to fake his death to accomplish what he had set his sight on?

 

Maybe it would be better, Hatz thought, using his observer to see through the barrier and directly inside of the bunker. He could see Khun now, as he adjusted the distances and the lenses, looking over some documents. A permanent frown seemed to have established itself between his eyebrows.

 

Nothing too unusual, Hatz thought, with a great deal of nostalgia. Though not anymore, of course.

 

Hatz would not know. He had not been there in five hundred years.

 

The more Hatz observed Khun train Sweet & Sour, the more he thought about his future course of actions. Khun was putting many contingencies into his own plans, and it had likely been thanks to Khun that they had managed to retrieve Bam at all during the original timeline. Hatz did not wish to jeopardise that.

 

Therefore, he needed to find a way to contact Khun before the Workshop Battle. Because otherwise, Khun might be entangled in the bait Hatz had planned to set there.

 

It was not really what one would call a bait, to speak frankly. Hatz had thought about what Khun would do, and Khun's current strategy had helped him come to a conclusion. After all, keeping quiet was only half of the key to success. The other half was to keep the attention away from one's movements.

 

If Hatz wanted to move without being seen, he needed to direct the crowd's gaze elsewhere. And that would be the bait.

 

Although, if Hatz stayed true to himself, he could only say it would be more of an unorganised chaos than a bait. But the Khun he knew would forgive him this same difference.

 

Just as he pondered on the way to attract Khun's attention, the man he had been observing turned in his direction, and stared suspiciously right into the observer's lens.

 

“Hell.”

 

The sight of it made Hatz jolt back.

 

Those sharp eyes he had had on him so often in the past, but had almost forgotten the weight of still. It took a moment for the stark, old deja vu feeling to settle in.

 

He breathed in. So, he was noticed. Was it his presence, or the observer's that had betrayed him? He saw Khun stand up, excusing himself from the companionship of his teammate - Dan, if Hatz remembered well - and left the bunker. He had only a few minutes to think. Should he try and talk to Khun or should he leave now? Maybe if he only left a note…

 

“You.”

 

Hatz stayed. He drew his hood further on his features

 

“Who are you and why are you here?”

 

It felt strange. Hearing that voice again. Smooth silk, deep and threatening. A voice with an identity, which could be used to walk in circles around someone, or trick them with false emotions, propitious to the mind games its owner liked to play.

 

Earrings’ voice. Always alert, even when jesting. Cold yet sometimes fiery.

 

Had Hatz ever realised what exactly this meant to him? Before it was taken away from him forever. But now he could hear it again…

 

It was different and the same. He did not know how to describe the feeling. Knowing his own Khun was slowly recovering in one of WhokHaikSong’s resorts, far away from here, made this experience all the more strange.

 

Hatz felt they were both Khun. They were both ‘his’, in a way. There was a distance, and there was not. This was still his Khun, because Hatz had known Khun back when they were this young, had grown alongside him. But there was a difference, and he was starkly aware of it.

 

This Khun had not yet become the Khun Hatz knew now.

 

The one that had six hundred years of life and suffering more to speak of. The one that had had no voice to speak with.

 

Hatz’ goal was to make sure Khun would never turn into that. Even if one version of him would have to live like this forever.

 

“I came to warn you,” he said, his eyes fixed on the man’s feet on the other side of the lighthouse barrier. “About the Thorn.”

 

Hatz could not see him right now, but the hum Khun let out expressed all his wariness and curiosity.

 

“What is it?”

 

There was no way Khun was going to believe him on his word, especially since he was still probably trying to understand who Hatz was.

 

“A tool protected by FUG. They planned to melt a Slayer Candidate into it to form an invincible weapon.”

 

“...And what does that have to do with me? Or you, for that matter?”

 

Khun's voice gave nothing away. But Hatz knew the man would be alerted by now. Since the beginning, actually. Khun was, naturally, someone very cautious. Even paranoid, and for good reason. He had not come here to chat with a messenger, but to gauge out a threat.

 

Hatz needed to signify to Khun that he was not a threat.

 

“The thorn is dangerous, I do not wish it in anyone's hands,” he said, then adding: “I know you and I have a similar goal. To strip FUG of the power they use to threaten our loved ones,” he remained very careful with his words. “Your objective aids mine, but my actions might hinder you. I wish for cooperation between us.”

 

“You did not answer. Who are you?”

 

Silence.

 

What should Hatz say? Oh. Of course.

 

“Your brother sends me,” he spoke, slightly bending the truth. He showed Khun, with slow movements, the paper on which Ran had written Khun's vague location. “He asks for a message, from you.”

 

Khun, with sharp, controlled movements, teleported the piece of paper to him as he read it, surely recognising the writing style. There was a long pause, when Hatz could almost hear the cogs turn rapidly in Khun's mind.

 

He wished he could see him. But he could not reveal himself.

 

“Was he well?” Khun asked, collected and cold.

 

“Quite. With the Slayer Candidate. His colleague was also there, in perfect shape.”

 

Khun seemed to crumple the piece of paper.

 

“That's good. Wait here.”

 

He left, and Hatz was unsure what he went to do. Was Hatz actually still under suspicion? Was Khun going to teleport right outside and try to fight him? Hatz was stronger, but the possibilities made him anxious.

 

But Khun came back soon enough, pressing a letter into his hand, having passed the lighthouse barrier. Hatz could sense him observing him, trying to see if Hatz would take the opportunity to attack him. Hatz did not.

 

“Give this to Ran. Are you going to be at the Workshop Battle?” Khun asked idly.

 

“I will,” Hatz answered.

 

“Are you in another one of FUG's factions?”

 

“No,” but Hatz knew Khun would not necessarily believe him. “Though, I am aware of their actions. As a proof of my good will, I'll tell you something else.”

 

Khun's silence was inviting. Hatz chose his words carefully.

 

“Emily, a path-creating AI partly sponsored and created by FUG resources, is guiding people to it to prepare its escape. A particular group will soon succeed in stealing it, according to their movements as described by the target. That group contains a person named Michelle Light,” he saw Khun visibly repress his tension, “another called Beniamo Cassano, a Raguel as well as a Daniel Hachid.”

 

This should be enough.

 

“Why do they seek Emily?” Khun reacted tensely despite his control.

 

His voice went deeper, more dangerous in intent.

 

“I don’t know,” Hatz answered. “But similarly to the Thorn, I plan to stop them. Because of the AI Emily, the Guides’ visions are no longer trustworthy, which is a personal issue for me,” he tried to explain, as vaguely as possible.

 

This tidbit would not go over Khun's head, he knew.

 

In the past, Khun had been restricted in his actions because of Hwa Ryun's instructions. Hatz did not remember exactly what it all entailed, but seeing as they would be going off path either way, now was better than later.

 

“I see,” Khun's reaction was more restrained than it used to be in his memory, but Khun had always been easier to fire up when it was just them. “I suppose we should keep in contact, then.”

 

Hatz almost perked up. The fact that Khun was asking - probably meant that he wished to keep an eye on Hatz, but no matter - it was good for Hatz. He willingly gave away his pocket number. He made to leave before he remembered.

 

“By the way, I am acquainted with some D-rank Regulars,” he mentioned. “Do you wish for anyone to learn of the fallacy behind your death?”

 

In his carelessness, he caught a glimpse of Khun's blue eyes glowing smartly in the night, looking straight into him and peering within.

 

“No,” the man said. “No one yet. Do not tell anyone.”

 

“Alright,” Hatz agreed easily. “Thank you for your trust.”

 

He knew Khun did not trust him. But he said this either way.

 

“What should I call you?”

 

“Whatever you want. I will see you in about a month.”

 

He left before Khun could interrogate him further.

 

This was already too much for Hatz. He would be back. But now was not the time. He did not want to break down in front of Khun.

 

Past Khun, who was alive and well, with eyes as blue and piercing as he remembered, in fact even more vivid, and his voice as deep and calculating as he last heard it, before it was stolen from him. Sharp in body and soul, inquisitive in mind and gaze, collected and crackling with ice yet thundering life underneath the surface.

 

The man Hatz remembered. The man he thought he would never see again, even though Khun Aguero Agnis had been the only survivor. He had never given up on Khun Aguero Agnis.

 

But he had given up on his ‘Earrings’ .

 

He found himself crouching, in the middle of nowhere, clutching at his heart and struggling to breathe.

 

It had been him. Khun.

 

He felt so disrespectful, yet he could not stop himself. For feeling such utter shock and relief at finally seeing him again, speaking to him again, hearing him, even though his own time's Khun was waiting for him in WolHaikSong.

 

It almost felt wrong. Like he did not value what he had enough. But he did. He was so grateful for this chance.

 

But then why did it hurt so bad? To see them again.

 

Hatz was a warrior, and he had been taught to face his demons head on.

 

Had he become a coward, in his centuries of hiding? Or had he simply become weak?

 

Or perhaps,  he thought, with a strange sense of sad dread, I have reached my limit a long time ago, and now I'm tearing at the seams.

 

But not yet. He told himself. Not yet. Soon. Soon, when they would all be safe and sound, and the cogs of their diverging future would be turning, he could let go. There would be time, to break. Just for a moment. Just the time of an embrace.

 

Soon.

 

Khun's fine, he texted Hachuling, over an hour later.

 

He remained on the Twenty-Ninth Floor, that night, appeasing himself. Waiting for Khun's message.

 

***

 

“Who was it?”

 

“An informant,” Khun told Dan, sitting back down in his chair with a silent sigh.

 

At least, that was what the stranger amounted to, for now. Although Khun doubted it was truly a stranger.

 

The man, for it had been a man, was covered from head to toe, and spoke too softly for his voice to be distinctly recognisable. However, his speech pattern had felt familiar to Khun. He would already have elaborated a few guesses, especially after having had a glimpse of the stranger's dark eyes, but all the people he knew that could fit the description were not as tall as the shrouded man.

 

“What did they have to say?”

 

He twirled the pocket number between his fingers, thoughtful.

 

“Something about the future happenings within the Workshop Battle. We'll keep in contact.”

 

First of all, Khun was going to trace the pocket number if possible, and hack into the man's data origins. Then, he was going to engage, and extract as much information from him as he could.

 

What put him on edge had been the stranger's last few words. About telling people he knew of Khun's real status.

 

That in itself implied that the man had access to Khun's close contacts. For a man who seemed intent on signifying to Khun that the AI Emily could easily become a manipulating, tricking device for all but a select few, he seemed quite reliant on it. Either this, or he knew Khun's friends personally. Khun knew which one was more likely.

 

“Were they strong?”

 

“Surely.”

 

“And they won’t be participating to the Workshop Battle with us?”

 

Khun hummed.

 

“I'm not certain. Although, having someone to help train those idiots would be useful…” he let the thought float in the air.

 

Of course, he would not go through with it yet. Not until he perfectly trusted the man, and he had no guarantee that it would ever happen. Better for everything to stay a secret.

 

But the man had already proven himself capable on spying on Khun and his team from a long distance and for a long time. He did tend to train Sweet and Sour out in the fields. For all he knew, secrecy had already vanished.

 

No matter, even if this were a possibility, Sweet and Sour needed to work on their individual physical conditions and their overall teamwork before they started on tackling combat technique. An unstable foundation made for a quick collapse, and Khun would not be caught dead in such a lousy team.

 

If there was someone he could ask help from… Khun thought about the Gator, but who knew where Rak was and what he would do. His loud teammate only did know how to close his snout selectively, and he was the most unpredictable variable Khun had ever had to deal with.

 

It made him think back to the stranger's offer again, huffing. If he needed to contact anyone, he could very well do it himself. He still had his pocket, after all.

 

Which… maybe he should disable it for now. If any of his former teammates called him to confirm his deceased status, they would find themselves very surprised by the voicemail. No, Khun did not want them to find out yet, even if the Red Witch's advice became obsolete.

 

This was something he knew better how to do alone.

 

Naturally, once he started investigating, it did not take too long to find out who had bought the identified pocket in the first place. WolHaikSong members, Khun found as he dug deeper. It was a very likely possibility, as such, that his mysterious helper was sent by WolHaikSong. Of course that did not in fact guarantee his reliability, but it was a start.

 

Why was WolHaikSong investing themselves in FUG's matters? The more answers he found, the more questions were laid on his mental desktop.

 

The stranger did mention Emily was meant to be a path-altering device. Would WolHaikSong want it for themselves, in case it could find a path out of the Tower? That could be a theory…

 

Or, if Khun indeed knew them, it could all be about Bam.

 

It would also make sense if he had infiltrated FUG on top of it, or something in a similar vein. It would explain his ample knowledge of FUG's plans and weapons, between the Thorn, Emily and Bam. Although Khun gritted his teeth internally at the thought of Bam being treated as a mere weapon.

 

That or he was just another kind of navigator, which Khun doubted but did not fail to consider.

 

He drew a the back of a draft document over to him and took out a pen, drawing something on it.

 

“Thinking about it, he also had this on his hand…” Khun had noticed it during the exchange of papers. “Shinsu emanated from it.”

 

He looked at the representation of the tattoo on the sheet, pensive. Dan hunched over to stare at it with furrowed eyebrows.

 

“I don’t recognise it.”

 

Khun had not either. But according to his senses, it was clearly not a normal tattoo, and it was also embedded deeper under the skin than any safe needle could operate. Another hint to their non-exhaustive list of facts that told them just about nothing.

 

A week later, he had learned all he could from his contact through technological, not quite legal means. He had thoroughly explored all the treads he could reach, even going as far as faking a vision accuracy test to his proteges in case they had a spontaneous idea of what the strange symbol was, apart from, well… a circulate symbol. No result so far. The best yet not helpful in the least answer he had had was from Miseng, who had called it a mandala. Nothing inspiring. Yeon Ewha had looked at it and thought it looked like a strange spell, which Khun tended to agree with, but their guess was as good as any. Unfortunately, he had had to do all this research at night, since during the day he was all too busy recording and monitoring Sweet and Sour’s practice performance and improvement curves, managing their next individual exercises as well as making sure they were actually practicing instead of slacking. Added to that was his own nocturnal training, of which temporal placement was as it was for the same reasons listed above, and he started running on exactly three hours and forty-six minutes of sleep - if he managed to fall asleep as soon as he hit the pillow.

 

“You should really rest for a second, do you want the new guys to follow your example?”

 

“They won’t,” Khun assured Dan confidently, eye bags standing proudly under his eyes. “I work them too hard for them not to fall asleep in a healthy manner as soon as they’re done. Even if they wanted to, it is impossible.”

 

Dan looked at him with a strange grimace. It looked like he wanted to say something more, but Khun did not want to hear it on three hours and forty-three minutes of sleep exactly this day, and thus quickly interrupted.

 

“Besides, you need not worry about me. Khun sons are trained to function adequately on a regular four hours of sleep. I’m about there, so my capabilities in the near future will not be affected… unless this predicament lasts a whole month and a half, minimum.”

 

“When I say you’re absolutely batshit, I mean you’re absolutely-”

 

Khun did not deign to listen to Dan’s answer.

 

All of this brought him to the eighth day after the stranger’s first visit. Khun had caught him staring twice more for brief amounts of time, and wisely, at night. Khun was not aware of whether this was a coincidence or an attempt of the stranger of WolHaikSong not to intrude in the privacy of Khun’s interactions during the day as a show of good will. He was not about to ask, just in case this was actually a coincidence. He stared at his pocket, the number sitting innocently in front of his eyes, yet especially ominously in his perspective. He was hesitant, but he knew this was the next step he needed to take. By now, he had inferred that the man knew of his relationships with his former teammates, and had theorised that the man’s identifications were another sign of this knowledge, if not an attempt to drift attention away from the real identity of the man. It could also be a diversion tactic aimed at Khun himself, or maybe the other members of the former second best team of E-Rank regulars in this part of the Tower. No matter. Khun knew and at the same time had no idea what he should be expecting.

 

In short, nothing unusual in the day of an information gatherer trying to reach out to potentially helpful new contacts. At some point, the fox needed to jump deep in the snow if it wanted to catch the lemming underneath. Even though it could get bitten.

 

Khun was perfectly aware that his metaphors were as telling regarding his personality as were his sleeping issues. Dan had told him. Saying it was funny. Khun did not find it funny. He was in a very unamused mood, as off late.

 

All of this, he reminded himself. All of this was for Bam.

 

Suspicious but far too curious and in need of help for his own good, he sent a message.

 

Khun : You wanted to talk. Let’s talk.

 

Unbeknownst to him, at roughly the same time, another long-awaited message reached the very same destinator.

Notes:

Hatz when I ask him to monologue a bit about his feelings during his talk with Khun: O.O me brawn no brains I have the emotional capacity of a well but the translation to language capacity of a little spoon.

Khun when I ask him to theorise a bit: *gives me the monologue of the proud perfectly ordered disaster that he is and that I love for over a thousand words and more*

Me: Ah yes I remember why I chose those two.

Also me: still throws table into the air at Hatz' depressing lack of emotional expression. "THIS CONVO WAS IMPORTANT WHY DID YOU MAKE THE WALL-" "WHY DID IIIII MAKE THE WALL LIKE I DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE A SCENE FULL OF TENSION IT'S ALL RUUUUUIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNEEEED WWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH TOTTOTTOTTOTTOTTOTTOTTOTTOTTOT comfortmepls-

Chapter 9: Don't Give up on Me

Summary:

Back then, Shibisu’s plan had been clear : avenge Khun, at all costs. Make Jue Viole Grace suffer for what he had done to them. For the limb, the flesh and blood he had torn from them.

How come Khun did not know?

And so, instead of reading whatever Khun was typing right now, Hatz carefully composed his own message.

Hatsu - You know.

Hatsu - When I found them, Ship Leesoo’s team was plotting to kill Jue Viole Grace, because they thought he was responsible for your death.

Notes:

I was working on one my masterpieces Not for All the Gems in the World but I had a bit of a hitch so I wrote this instead, even though I had no idea where this was going. I ended up writing something beautiful. (in my opinion) Hope you like it!

Time ticked down slowly. The Workshop Battle would soon be upon them. Perhaps far too soon. But at the same time, Hatz could not wait. His blood fizzled with impatience, with inaction. Sometimes, he feared he could not bear the anxiety. But he could.

 

He was a strong sword wielder, who had retained the honour that he had been taught, and the values he cherished. He knew how to bear pressure, standing tall.

 

But waiting in silence never got easier. Especially in such cases as this one. So, Hatz busied himself. Tracking Beniamo Cassano’s actions, for one, recording all that he could find with his observer. For now, nothing remarkable had happened, but Hatz could not let anything slip by.

 

Rachel was not actually there. She remained far away, letting her pawns move for her on the board while she gathered more allies.

 

In the end, this recontextualisation of the board’s players and the overall situation only managed to make Hatz more anxious. Yet he knew he needed to stand it, to find his marks in this place so that, when the time came, none other but him would be the master of this playing field.

 

Two weeks before the Workshop Battle, he received a message he had not expected, from a pocket he did not know the origin of. But he immediately realised who it was supposed to be.

 

Unknown - Hatz.

 

His breath hitched, but he huffed, smirking with something profound in his chest.

 

It was uncharacteristic of him. But there was only one person left in this Tower who would call him by name.

 

He answered back.

 

Hatsu - Earrings.

 

A moment of quiet, the sounds of the night faded in the distance, far below.

 

Unknown - Yes.

 

Unknown - What happened?

 

His pocket made a sound, just then. Hatz, already working on registering the pocket number in his database, paid it just enough attention to understand who the owner of it was, before deciding that his priority was this. He just needed a short while.

 

Hatsu - I thought Hachuling would have told you some about it.

 

Earrings: I wanted to hear it from you.

 

Hatz’s smile was wiped clean. He frowned at the black screen. This sounded off.

 

But, he remembered, this was the first time he had managed to truly exchange with Khun since… since five hundred years ago. Ten days ago had been a fluke, barely at the edge of delirium, a single instant of lucidity that Hatz could not bless enough, but this was different.

 

The quality of the grammar had fooled him for an instant. Now he reminded himself, who exactly he was talking to.

 

The Khun he knew was no longer the sharp-eyed person he had met a mere week ago.

 

Still. It was his. And even if it was not everything, it mattered.

 

Hatsu - You saved my life. Do you remember?

 

He waited, half seated on the chimney behind him, at the top of a very tall factory, from where he could even see the Archimedes floating slowly in the dark blue sky.

 

Earrings - I know you saved me.

 

Hatz blinked slowly, then replied.

 

Hatsu - What about it?

 

Earrings - you should have

 

A fumble. Hatz frowned more, and waited. Willing to be patient. He wished he could be there, physically, to have this conversation. It was already difficult enough to read Khun’s face when he was looking into his eyes, but right now, the task of understanding him was nigh impossible. In an instant of helpless worry, he wondered whether Khun had regained his complete mobility. If he still felt weak, if his mind was alright.

 

If he was in any state to hold this conversation.

 

Finally, a complete answer came.

 

Earring - I’m sorry, for everything.

 

Hatz stared blankly at those few words, considering, imagining, maybe overthinking. He sighed harshly, after a short while.

 

Another approach appeared best, in these circumstances.

 

Hatsu - Can I call you?

 

There was no response. Once again, Hatz wished he could guess, imagine his companion’s reaction on the other side, make out his gestures and the expression on his face. But he could not. Too much time had gone back.

 

The only recent memory he kept of him was that of a lost, tortured man, barely aware of the outside world, looking at him with wide yet empty blue eyes and who had looked at him like his survival meant the world - like it did not matter if he died, because he had found Hatz, and because Hatz was there then no one would hurt him again.

 

The memory of the proud, accomplished man he remembered, reduced to the hurt child that had always dwelled within, forcefully drawn back out at the hands of his captors.

 

Hatsu - I won’t ask you to talk to me. You can just listen.

 

For a moment, Hatz thought Khun really would not answer. Yet, after some time, he received a call. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly to still himself, and answered. A distinct beep symbolised the beginning of the call.

 

“Hey, Earrings.”

 

He could hear somewhat ragged breaths on the other side of the call, kept as quiet as they could be. But he heard them. He listened to them. He looked up at the Floor’s ceiling.

 

“It’s been a while since we talked like this. Did you know that it’s been five hundred years?” he asked calmly.

 

He listened. Khun’s breathing was cut off for a moment, and then there was something else. Like a sound being choked up, repressed. Hatz resumed, when Khun was breathing somewhat normally again.

 

“I was glad to see you,” he admitted, honestly.

 

With the person Khun had become, there was no need for their usual little lies. Those had gone to rest with the years of absence. Now, little truths were what would keep them afloat. Keep Khun afloat.

 

“I had no idea what I was going to do, when I found you. I was wondering if I could just take you from the Ten Great Families without them noticing in the chaos. I thought we would go to my old shelter, and then be on the run until we managed to make them think you were dead. Back then, I really didn’t know what I was going to do. All that mattered was that you were still alive too, and that I wanted to save you.”

 

It might be difficult to accept, he thought with some melancholy. For Khun, to realise that the best moment of Hatz’ life during this half millennium was seeing him there, despite the horrifying amount of blood tainting him and the ground under him. It might be too much. Hatz understood.

 

“I never did expect you to send us in this place and time,” he told his friend sincerely, “You’ve always been more organised than I was. You had a plan when I had none. In the past, I’d have said that it is frustrating, but Khun…” he heard a hitch in Khun’s breathing at the name, and he had to swallow to continue, “I am immensely grateful, for the chance you gave me. For the chance you gave us.”

 

Sheet moving under a fisted grasp. Hatz recognised the sound. Recognised the turmoil. He wanted to help, to do something, but he did not know how to talk to this person. He had… never, needed to speak to this person in this way, never needed to be careful with his words. He had never needed to put his entire being into translating his emotions, as gently as possible, as translucent as he could, to this person. But that was what he needed to do now, because this person had become fragile like glass, and all Hatz wanted to do was finally reach through.

 

“So tell me, Earrings,” he kept his tone as quiet and passive as he could, “what should I not have done? What were you trying to say?”

 

Perfect silence. Hatz held on.

 

“Were you trying to say that, I shouldn’t have saved you? That I should have left you to die while I saved the world? Or,” he talked around the lump in his throat, “do you mean to say that you have enough of living this life?”

 

He could feel the tension, could identify the precise moment Khun had stopped breathing on the other side of the call. He could feel the pressure, close to snapping, like he could lose him at any moment. But Hatz would not let it happen.

 

Hatz was not done with this fight.

 

“Because I understand.”

 

His sight was blurry. It did not matter.

 

“I can understand, Khun. I can’t pretend to understand what you have been through. I don’t know how hard it is. But I know it is hard. I know it is,” he insisted, trying to keep his rising emotions to himself, “I know it is hard. I know you might want to give up, now that everything’s over, that you might want to stop it all before it starts all over again. I know. ”

 

I do, Khun, Earrings, I really do. But I… I can’t…

 

I can’t do this without you.

 

“But I won’t give up on you,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “I won’t. And if you can’t fight, I’ll fight for you. I will never give up. Because I know it’s hard, but I need you with me, Khun. You hear me? I need you.”

 

An almost completely silent sob. Hatz heard it. He did not mention it.

 

Instead, he begged.

 

“So stay. I know it’s… a lot, to ask. But please. Rest all you want, call me all you want. I’ll do anything. So don’t give up on me, either.”

 

He did not need Khun to answer. All he needed was a sign. A sign that Khun had heard him.

 

He wanted to hear Khun breathe again.

 

And Khun… did. But he also did something unexpected.

 

“Okay.”

 

Hatz jolted, freezing right after, feeling his own air catch in his throat.

 

It had been a voice, barely recognisable through the static, and with how the injuries had altered it, rendering it almost airless, ragged and croaked, with no distinguishable timbre. All the efforts that had gone into producing that single word, barely achieving an audible result. But Hatz recognised it, despite the sob distorting it further, the struggle in the choked up sound.

 

Khun’s voice.

 

Khun, who had tried to answer. Just to say yes.

 

Just to say I’ll try.

 

Hatz had not noticed his own tears until one of them fell from his chin, leaving an impression of cold behind on the wet skin. Tears full of awe, wonder.

 

He could not stop the way he choked onto his own words afterwards.

 

“Thank you. Thank you. ”

 

A hum, lulling and weak.

 

It was Hatz’ lifeline.

 

Finally, Hatz smiled.

 

“I promised Hachuling I would tell him more about the future we come from, once I achieved this mission,” he said, after taking a moment to compose himself, in the quiet company of his only companion. “And maybe we’ll talk to a few other people. Gather allies. So, sit tight. I’ll be back soon enough. We’ll figure this out together.”

 

No more humming. But there was one noise. Like a finger tapping against the pocket once.

 

“Yeah?” he huffed in relief, and heard another tap. “I’ll call you later again, Earrings. Rest for a while longer.”

 

Tap.

 

Despite Hatz’ words, they ended up basking in each other’s presence for a few moments longer, in the nearly perfect silence. Hatz closed his eyes, bathing in this feeling. Of not being alone. Of Khun being there by his side, whatever the Tower would do to them. Inhaling deeply, as though charging in all this soothing energy they had managed to achieve. 

 

Then, of course, he needed to return to reality.

 

“See you, Earrings.”

 

The call disconnected.

 

Now with the reassurance that his friend was by his side, Hatz looked forwards to this past, this new future. Time to face those strangers that were not really strangers.

 

Khun (23yrs old) - You wanted to talk. Let’s talk.

 

Hatsu - Have you thought about my proposition, then?

 

Khun (23yrs old) - Depends on what it involves.

 

Hatz snickered.

 

Yes. After all the turmoil he had only just gone through, maybe talking to this Khun was exactly what he needed.

 

***

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - You clearly have questions. Should I just volunteer information or are you going to ask?

 

Khun frowned. Of course, the best idea would be to let the informant give him whatever information he could think about first that Khun might not find the right question to learn about afterwards. He tried keeping silent for a moment, to see if the informant gave away anything.

 

Like he had only been waiting for this, the stranger messaged again.

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - What do you want me to start with? My current status in regards to the Workshop Battle? The ways I can help you during its occurrence? Or maybe you just want to explore my goals more so that you’re sure I’m not going to double-cross you.

 

Khun raised an eyebrow. He decided to try something out.

 

Khun - For whom? WolHaikSong?

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - Ah, so you figured it out. Want to know who commissioned me and why?

 

Khun - I didn’t think you’d give that kind of information to me straight away, you’re more willing than I first realised. But please do, if you’re so confident.

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - Blueberry’s the one who asked me.

 

Khun had to repress his reaction. That could not be right. What would Hachuling want to do with the Workshop Battle? And why would his agent reach out to Khun- how did Hachuling even know that Khun was not dead? Or no, maybe that was not the most important point.

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - Basically, as long as I found you, made sure you were still alive, and helped in keeping you alive, I could do whatever I want during the Workshop Battle with the cover they provided for me.

 

He must be lying. Hachuling did not care enough about Khun to go check if he had really died, or to buy his safety. This was so obviously bullshit that either this stranger had never met a Khun before or he was doing it on purpose.

 

Besides, even if Hachuling had found out that Khun was not as dead as he pretended to be, he would just trust Khun to either get himself out of his mess on his own - or die trying because why would a millenial High Ranker care about a measly regular he had met a mere six years in the past? They barely talked once every two months.

 

He decided not to confront the stranger immediately, rather bouncing off:

 

Khun - Do I look like I need protection?

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - I don’t know about that, but a little help can never hurt, right?

 

Khun - And are you sure Hachuling won’t ask me for a return of favour after that little help of yours?

 

There. What was Hachuling really up to?

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - Blueberry wants me to make sure you’re still alive in there. In exchange, I get access to WolHaikSong’s resources. With that, I secure the Thorn and Emily. I ask your help for that. Then, Blueberry, as part of our deal, gets to know about the info I gather. Does that make more sense to you?

 

Khun - So you, and by association Hachuling, want me to help you to steal FUG’s highly dangerous weapons? Did I get that right?

 

So it was some sort of three-way deal. Khun had no idea how he had gotten himself involved in this mess in the first place. Whose idea was it to mention his name in who knew whose conversation alongside Hachuling and the stranger regarding the Workshop Battle? Maybe Hachuling, because he had to know Khun was close to the Thirtieth Floor, and therefore to the Workshop Battle, and viciously decided to enroll him in his plans. Was that what it was?

 

Honestly, Khun already had enough to deal with on his own plate. He would rather not have anything to do with the rest of the machinations at play during the event of the Workshop Battle. But if this could advantage him, then…

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - Kind of, yes. And in exchange, I become your informant and help you to the best of my ability in securing your objective - which, if I’m not mistaken, is the Slayer Candidate who is supposed to have killed you recently.

 

Khun - Are those pieces of information of yours taken right out of the device you call Emily, or do you know me and my contacts personally?

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - I’ll be honest with you. I had no idea how to use that thing until a week ago. And the immediate thing I realised I could do with it is feed information to who I want, conceal information to others, and gather information from others. Before that, I relied on my own sources. What I mean to say is, Emily does not know that The Twenty-Fifth Bam is the Slayer Candidate. It does not know that you are alive either. It is limited.

 

Khun - In other words, you know things you shouldn’t be allowed to know. I repeat, how do you know my contacts?

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - What makes you think I know them personally?

 

Khun - So you can talk to them when and where you want about whatever without knowing them? You already proved you had Ran’s semi-trust. Stop with your stupid questions already, you’re not doing a good job at seeming intelligent.

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - Huh, true. My strategist has gone on vacation for a while, sorry about that. Apart from the fact they’re very famous in this part of the Tower, I’ve actually already teamed up with them.

 

Suspicious.

 

Khun knew everything about Shibisu’s teammates, about Rak’s too, and unless the stranger was talking about Viole - who according to Sweet and Sour did not have any even temporary companions prior to the Twentieth Floor - Khun was absolutely certain this should be impossible.

 

Unless… He tried to remember the sight of the stranger wrapped in his coat, in the dark. The sound of his voice…

 

He let out a harsh sigh of frustration. There was a chance the man was not actually lying.

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - I’ve also already made contact with a few of them before finding you. If you change your mind at any point, I can tell them that you’re alive, before they learn it in a more chaotic manner.

 

Khun tsked.

 

Khun - I already said no.

 

But the man insisted.

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - Are you absolutely certain? You already know how unpredictable the Red Guide can make herself, and she already divulged The Twenty-Fifth Bam’s status before the destruction of the Hand of Arlene through Emily. She could do the same for you at any moment if it benefitted the path she chose.

 

So that had been Hwa Ryun’s actions. Khun should not even be surprised, at this point. But the man did make a point.

 

Khun - If you tell Emily not to ever tell anyone I’m alive, would it obey?

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - For a time, surely, but I don’t know what can happen if someone sends a contradictory demand. Maybe it’s better to be cautious. What about that Crocodile friend of yours?

 

Oh, shit. Of course, Rak.

 

Oh, well. Rak would never learn how to use an AI device. But then again, it sufficed that someone came to him and told him either that Khun or Bam was alive to get him to believe it, with how naive that Gator was.

 

Well, he just needed to make sure Rak would not ruin his plans. As for Emily, it sounded more and more likely that the device was in fact unreliable.

 

He typed a formula into the pocket and sent it to the informant.

 

Khun - if that does happen, use this code to request this condition: If the question of my status is raised, Emily must redirect to a preset reply. Just a no would do the job, I don’t care how you do it. Just make sure it can’t leak it, even if it does have the information in its database.

 

He thought for a few seconds, and added:

 

Khun - And don’t worry about that Gator. Unless he learns that Bam is alive around here, he won’t come here. He’s too obsessed with the wild to bother confirming whether I’m dead or not.

 

***

 

Hatz paused, seeing Khun’s reply.

 

Surely the other man was kidding.

 

Hatsu - You don’t think he’s going to come here demanding where you are or look for revenge on the Slayer Candidate?

 

Khun (23yrs old) - Like hell he would. Now back to the matter at hand.

 

But Hatz found himself spacing out. That could not be right. Was that really what Khun thought at this stage of their climb of the Tower?

 

Hatz had never noticed. But the fact that Khun, the genius strategist that they had all relied on back then more than on anyone else around them, had not caught on to this was slightly worrying.

 

Rak had always been…

 

Back then, five hundred years ago, Rak had been the one who shouted the loudest when Khun had been taken from them.

 

“My Blue Turtle was taken from me and you want me to wait?! You are all Cowards. I won’t let him in the claws of the Family Head Turtles! I’ll take him back, with or without the rest of you!”

 

“Rak, please, we don’t even know-”

 

“The Blue Turtle could be bleeding right now.”

 

…

 

“He could be in pain. He could be his stubborn reckless self. He could be shell-less by now. The Small Blue Turtle died to protect him. He’s all alone, and he’s blaming himself, and I know my Blue Turtle. He could be dying right now. I, am not going to leave him alone !”

 

If Rak learned that Khun had died, or that he was not actually dead, he would come running. Because Khun was Rak’s Blue Turtle.

 

And if Khun had been dead, then Rak would fight until death so long as he got his revenge. So long as he bled the ones who hunted his friend dry, and made them suffer at least twice as much as they hurt Khun.

 

The same could be said for the rest of them, Hatz thought grimly. Back then, Shibisu’s plan had been clear : avenge Khun, at all costs. Make Jue Viole Grace suffer for what he had done to them. For the limb, the flesh and blood he had torn from them.

 

How come Khun did not know?

 

And so, instead of reading whatever Khun was typing right now, Hatz carefully composed his own message.

 

Hatsu - You know.

 

Hatsu - When I found them, Ship Leesoo’s team was plotting to kill Jue Viole Grace, because they thought he was responsible for your death.

 

***

 

Khun stopped writing, frozen in place for a short moment.

 

Shibisu had…

 

No, that could not be right. Shibisu knew better than to lose his cool like this. But then again, Khun himself had gone after the Devil’s Right Hand because the man had beaten Hatz, and it was a question of pride to win against him, whether regarding Hatz and his rivalry, or the team’s pride as a whole. Maybe he could understand.

 

But Shibisu had to know he was targeting someone far above his own level.

 

Khun - Tell them not to. They could ruin everything, those idiots.

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - I already told them FUG killed you, not Jue Viole Grace, if that helps. But that’s what I meant. See? You can’t control everything on the board. If you keep all your information in a full bottle, it’s bound to blow up at some point. But if you ally with me to drip it carefully, in a controlled manner, to aid your goals, it will be easier to maneuver the whole board. Don’t you agree?

 

Frustration was mounting within Khun. Unfortunately, he did see the point. Regardless of Shibisu’s reasons, it was undeniable that the informant had done him a favour by making sure they would not hinder Bam’s path for now.

 

Hwa Ryun had already told Khun about Bam. For all he knew, she could decide to speak to anyone and let them in the know, without Khun being aware of it.

 

It displeased him to admit it, but he might need the help.

 

Khun - Alright. What is your status?

 

He was going to have to cooperate. Even if it meant including Rak into his plans, eventually.

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - I’ll tell you everything, and I’ll be your right hand when you need me. Meet me in two days.

 

Khun - My bunker.

 

WolHaikSong’s Stranger - Alright.

 

Time to plan Sweet and Sour’s next break from training. A little tour in the nearby city would surely do them good.

Chapter 10: What Each of Them Used to See

Summary:

“Don’t pass by the town on your way back to the Thirtieth,” he asked Hatz. “We part ways for now. I need to go find this stupid team of mine before they decide to abandon their training and lose themselves in whatever pub they might find.”

Hatz could not repress the smile climbing up his face.

“They sound troublesome.”

Khun huffed.

“None of your business. Now be on your way.”

Obedient in a way he might never have been with Khun, Hatz complied.

He wondered if it was due to that hint of goodnatured humour he had discerned in Khun’s tone just then. This kind of banter, even if professionally distanced, was something he had never managed to achieve with Khun in the past. And strangely enough, it made Khun sound a bit different.

Less like a taskmaster. More like a true, fleshed and blooded colleague, with feelings and exhaustion and commiseration, just like the rest of them.

Notes:

Hi again! Somehow this chapter got done.

Hatz did not try to be discreet, this time. He presented himself at the barrier, not trying to slip inside or spy, merely triggering it lightly to inform Khun he had arrived. Not a minute too late, the barrier let him in. Khun did not come to greet him personally. Hatz huffed at the thought that Khun trusted him to find his way in all on his own.

 

Was it another little test from Khun? Maybe. Hatz did not have any issue displaying his experience to him. He was not yet certain if he wanted Khun to learn who he was exactly, but as Khun’s ally, more than alright, it was necessary for Khun to know what exactly he was dealing with by allying with Hatz.

 

He let himself in the bunker and quickly found Khun in the living room.

 

“I did not see your trainees on my way here,” he mentioned as a way of greeting.

 

Khun gestured for him to sit down in front of him, nursing a cup of coffee.

 

“They’re on an exceptional break,” he explained vaguely. “You won’t find them here.

 

Hatz took a seat, merely smirking when Khun raised an eyebrow at his manner. Surely it made him all the more suspicious, but he was unwilling to shed his hood and coat. Khun thankfully took it in stride.

 

“Does that mean you want to keep our partnership a secret, or is it that you don’t trust me around them?”

 

Khun sipped from his cup, eyes staring at Hatz with intent yet his features were relaxed.

 

“Take a guess,” he said almost goodnaturedly, putting the coffee aside.

 

Hatz had no idea.

 

He did not let it show. Instead, he stayed put, waiting for Khun to start the conversation. And Khun clearly was taking his time making him wait. It was probably a tactic to observe him. Hatz merely relaxed in his seat, knowing that Khun would not try to attack him.

 

And if he did… Hatz thought he was skilled enough to defend himself. But he really did not think Khun would maul him now. He had done his utmost to be transparent, giving him no reason to doubt him.

 

Just as he had expected, Khun watched him now with an interested glint in his gaze.

 

“You said you were in an amenable position to help me in my endeavours. Care to elaborate on that?”

 

Hatz nodded.

 

“I’m undercover as a security guard there, currently on leave,” he explained. “I’m technically categorised as a Ranker, so I’m afraid I won’t be able to participate in the Workshop Battle to help you, but it gives me a greater amount of freedom, should you need a pawn to move.”

 

Khun observed him quietly. Hatz let himself be analysed.

 

“What could that entail, as an example?”

 

Hatz tilted his head, thinking about it. What could he do as Khun’s informant during the Battle…? Well, he could tell him the likely results of the first tests since Khun was going to be the gambler thanks to the remnants of memories he had from that time. For example, Hatz would not forget the memorable way Anaak lost during her duel with Ran. Not that Ran won it either. Thinking about those two almost made him smile fondly. He should watch himself.

 

“I could act as a messenger between you and the Slayer Candidate,” he suggested. “Or between you and the two wayward members of your team that are by his side.”

 

Khun’s gaze was sharp as he considered the possibility. Hatz resumed.

 

“Me acting as a messenger would allow you to coordinate your courses of actions, for one. Then, I could warn you of any happening that you would not be immediately aware of.”

 

“You are confident that you could tell me all I would need to know in time?” strangely enough, Khun sounded slightly skeptical.

 

Hatz did not understand why. As a competent Ranker, was it really that surprising that he would have a lot of reach?

 

“Well. I have your pocket number, so I think it is possible,” he said carefully.

 

Khun nodded, even though he was still looking at him with an incredulous quality in the focus of his eyes.

 

“I see. And that would include our common opponents’ movements, I suppose. Does that mean you are ready to spy on them?”

 

Hatz would not necessarily need to go that far, with the knowledge he possessed, but he acquiesced either way. It amounted to the same result after all.

 

“I am. I will potentially be stealing two massive destruction weapons from right under their noses. In comparison to that, a little bit of spying will not hurt me,” he shrugged, smirking.

 

“And how do you expect me to help you?” Khun bounced back immediately.

 

This time, Hatz answered immediately.

 

“If I can keep the attention away from you when you need it, then you could do the same for me when I ask you to.”

 

Despite the tone of the sentence, it was still more of an askance than a deal. Though, he had seen Khun negotiate in the past, long ago. It was better to sound firm and confident from the beginning when bargaining for something, so he did not regret the way his suggestion sounded.

 

Khun never looked away from him as he thought about it.

 

“You are aware that this is not something that might be possible depending on the circumstances, are you?” he confirmed, to which Hatz nodded.

 

“Of course. I’d like to help you and for you to help me to the best of our abilities, but cooperating does not mean abandoning one’s own cover to save the other’s. In time, I will take anything you are willing to give, just like I might not always be able to help you. But you now see what kind of use I can be for you, just by being in contact with you,” he insisted, staring intently at his former companion.

 

Khun kept silent for another moment, which prompted Hatz to point out something else.

 

“Besides this, you already admitted that you did not want any of your contacts to become aware of your situation. But you cannot predict how things will turn out and how information will travel during the Workshop Battle. The factor of unpredictability is too important. If you need it,” and he felt like a traitor to his very own past self by suggesting this, “I’ll help you conceal your identity to those who know you.”

 

“And if one of them find out from Hwa Ryun anyways, just as you hinted at last time?” Khun raised an eyebrow, always ready to pick out faults in the plans presented in front of him.

 

He would not be Hatz’s team’s master strategist if he did not do so.

 

“Then,” Hatz swallowed, “I’ll redirect them to you before they can act on their own or divulge anything. How does that sound?”

 

A pause. Then, at last, Khun looked away, down to the tea table again.

 

“Acceptable.”

 

He rose to his feet.

 

“Are you aware of the members that compose my team?” Hatz looked up, focusing on the man’s movements as Khun brought a lighthouse to him and withdrew a coat from it.

 

“I am,” he winced a bit, not wanting to sound like a stalker. “A bit.”

 

“I suppose that is good. As you might know, I do not trust you, and will not entrust you with anything concerning this team. If you ever need to enter in contact with any of them, you will inform me first. I will know if you don’t,” a sharp glare thrown Hatz’ way.

 

Another sharp gesture, and Hatz stood to follow Khun to the front door.

 

“Does this mean you accept my offer?”

 

“With a few conditions,” Khun immediately tried to put a stop to Hatz’s visible elation, and Hatz forced the smile away from his lips, knowing no condition Khun could add would deter him. “I will be lending you a lighthouse, so that I can track you. But,” Khun opened the door, dragging him outside and giving him a flashdrive, “You will also have this decipher. Any data you collect thanks to it will be immediately accessible to you thanks to the lighthouse, but will also be transferred to my core lighthouse. Is that alright with you?”

 

“I have no objection.”

 

They walked quickly. Khun explained to him that he would be allowed to pass the barrier around Khun’s bunker during the next few days, but he did not have blanket permission to do whatever he wanted. He needed to go straight to Khun’s office next time, and Khun would simply open the window, if they really needed to talk face to face.

 

Once at the barrier, Khun thrust a miniature lighthouse into Hatz’s grasp, granting him limited use access to it, as well as the flashdrive from earlier. Hatz tested the authorisations on the barrier and was fully able to pass through. Khun followed him out. Though it appeared he had only been escorting him out.

 

“Don’t pass by the town on your way back to the Thirtieth,” he asked Hatz. “We part ways for now. I need to go find this stupid team of mine before they decide to abandon their training and lose themselves in whatever pub they might find.”

 

Hatz could not repress the smile climbing up his face.

 

“They sound troublesome.”

 

Khun huffed.

 

“None of your business. Now be on your way.”

 

Obedient in a way he might never have been with Khun, Hatz complied.

 

He wondered if it was due to that hint of goodnatured humour he had discerned in Khun’s tone just then. This kind of banter, even if professionally distanced, was something he had never managed to achieve with Khun in the past. And strangely enough, it made Khun sound a bit different.

 

Less like a taskmaster. More like a true, fleshed and blooded colleague, with feelings and exhaustion and commiseration, just like the rest of them.

 

Hatz knew by now, that it was what Khun had always been. He just wished that he had reached out for Khun’s trust earlier. Not the hard-earned faith that they had achieved through their years climbing the Tower. But the trust one placed in their equal, allowing them to see the feelings underneath.

 

Hatz had not noticed how ragged Khun had been until he had come back with that accursed book of spells, spending the next two months learning its entire hidden dictionary with only Shibisu to help him. Because Khun had never shown them.

 

Hatz doubted Khun had ever even shown Bam.

 

Was that not a sad thought, huh?

 

Now was different. Because Hatz would do better. He would be better. He had the eyes of the adult Khun used to be, he had the perspective Khun had learned to adapt to since he was a teenager, and he felt equal to Khun in a way he might never have felt before. It was a novel feeling that he had discovered centuries ago, when he had found himself all alone, for years and years, until one day he had stopped to look at his surroundings, and his past, and noticed how his view had changed. How he had changed, matured to adapt to cruel reality after the Massacre.

 

And had thought: so this is what he used to see, when he looked at the world.

 

Not just Khun, but all of them.

 

With his years, the experience that had come in all the unfortunate ways that life had brought him, he had thought, now I understand them all just a bit more.

 

I can see what each of them used to see.

 

I wish I could share it with them now.

 

Because the thing that had been lacking, when Hatz was a young swordsman and Khun was a closed-off strategist, clashing opinions at every turn, was precisely this. Understanding.

 

He understood them all better than he had when they were alive, now. And he had thought it was such a shame, that they were not there anymore for him to tell them so. That he understood, now.

 

But now, he could. Not as the young impulsive and in some ways foolish swordsman he once was, but as the scarred adult he had become.

 

It was not the same. But perhaps, he could make it mean something too.

 

Earrings - What are you thinking about?

 

Hatz blinked at the notification, as he stilled in the inter-floor portal.

 

Hatsu - Why do you ask?

 

He smiled as the idea crossed his mind.

 

Hatsu - Were you eavesdropping?

 

His Khun’s reply was quick and unashamed.

 

Earrings - I was. I am sorry. Should I not have?

 

Hatsu - I don’t mind you being in my pocket, if that’s what you’re implying.

 

Should I not have? The Khun Hatz used to know would never have asked something like that. Hatz cared for Khun, but… he hated how it felt sometimes. He hated that he felt that Khun would obey him. That was not how they operated. He did not want that to be their relationship now, either.

 

But, unfortunate as it was, he could understand Khun’s hesitations, his tentativeness and uncertainty. Quite precisely because he was not that person from five hundred years ago. He was still Khun, but different. Jaded, damaged. Who had not had anyone to lead through a crisis since centuries. Who was unable to help now, because his mind was half broken, and because he was too injured to accompany Hatz.

 

Hatz understood. He still loved Khun. But he hated it, even if he accepted it.

 

Earrings - I see.

 

That was all he said. Hatz decided to drop the topic.

 

Hatsu - What did you think of it? He gave me a lot of liberties, I think.

 

For a moment, he could nearly see it in his mind, the way Khun had paused to stare at the message, maybe not knowing how to talk about it without addressing the elephant in the room.

 

Earrings - Despite the way he acts, he does not have much leeway, nor many options to choose from. He cannot control you the way he wished he could. But he does not have the ability to cut you out.

 

Hatz was almost offended. He was Khun’s friend, even if the Khun from that time did not know as much. If Khun had asked him to withdraw, he would have.

 

Except, he realised, he could not have. Precisely for Khun, for Shibisu, Endorsi, Anaak, Laure, Rak, Bam and the rest of them. He would not have given up, he would still have acted as he wanted during the Workshop Battle and tried to simplify Khun’s ways because it facilitated his own plans as well. Even if it was, in the end, for their own benefits, he would have still meddled.

 

He had simply wished to turn this one-way cooperation into a two-way one, a more refined alliance, that both could take full advantage of. But he was the one who had chosen to reach out to Khun. And Khun must have realised that.

 

Now that he thought about it, he had not actually given Khun much of a choice. Maybe this whole farce of a negotiation was a way for Khun to gauge him only, to discern how much trust he could place in Hatz.

 

Whatever. Hatz had now the confirmation that Khun would take his information seriously, which would not have been possible if Khun had been too suspicious of him. He had achieved what he wished to achieve. Even though on the other side, Khun must have felt like he had no choice in the actual matter.

 

Hatsu - I had not thought of it from that angle.

 

He admitted to his Khun.

 

A pause, then:

 

Earrings - You have changed a bit.

 

Hatz was surprised to find these words, white on black, on his pocket’s screen. He composed himself quickly, but still, he thought.

 

Those words did not appear as aggressive as he had feared they would be.

 

Hatsu - That almost sounds like a compliment.

 

Khun’s response, not a direct answer to Hatz’s comment, implied a lot.

 

Earrings - I don’t know.

 

Earrings - I am still thinking.

 

Hatz did not know what to answer. So, he wrote nothing.

 

“Let’s go home,” he said, for himself and for Khun. “Stay for a while? I still don’t know how to handle the Rachel and Emily affair. I could use your help, if you feel up to it.”

 

This time, Khun’s answer was far less ambiguous.

 

Earrings - Of course.

 

And those, they felt like warm words.

 

***

 

“Isu.”

 

Shibisu turned with a hum. Laure was there, surprisingly, standing in his blanket with sleepy eyes.

 

“Oh, you’re awake.”

 

“I still need to eat sometimes,” the man explained with a dry tone, deadpan. “You, however, should probably go to sleep.”

 

Laure closed the window behind him, and Shibisu went back to looking at the nocturnal cityscape. The rest were either sleeping or out. Shibisu knew that Anaak, for example, had been feeling irate since the theft that had triggered their current situation. She had not been showing it, but it had been bubbling up inside. She had probably gone to hit something, and he had already specified that they should not take their feelings out on the furniture of their apartment.

 

Endorsi was surely sleeping, after ruminating the whole day in her room again. As for Hatz, if he was not asleep like the healthy fighter Shibisu knew him to be, he must have been training.

 

Shibisu knew, he was far from the only one affected, after learning of Khun’s…

 

Sometimes, he still could not believe it.

 

The truth was, that night, it had been a coincidence that they had all been watching the news. Shibisu did that, sometimes. Not all of them. It had been a good day, everything had been mostly calm.

 

But then, in the middle of their usual banter, one of them had been paying attention. It was Hatz, who had said.

 

“Look at this. It seems something happened.”

 

Something close to them. By that, he had surely meant it physically. The destruction of the Hand of Arlene had happened just two floors below theirs. And Shibisu’s team was not completely unaware either, of the attention that the Twenty-Eighth Floor had been gathering since a couple of days before that. And they had definitely not been unaware of the trail of news the new Slayer Candidate left in his wake. They had all paid attention.

 

And then, as they listened and read, they had realised what they had really been looking at.

 

Terrorism. Cold-blooded massacre of members of the Ten Great Families. A statement, from the Slayer Candidate. Presumed dead…

 

Khun Aguero Agnis.

 

The dawning horror of that moment. That moment when Shibisu heard them say that Khun, that their Khun, had been inside that monument, and had likely died either at the Slayer Candidate’s direct hand or buried alive in the explosion the FUG executive had caused. Their Khun, assassinated. While they had simply been waiting here, on the Thirtieth Floor, Khun had died, had maybe suffocated on his own blood, rubble sticking inside his body as he struggled to breathe, had maybe died slowly under a weight even he was not strong enough to literally shoulder, knowing nobody would find him. Had maybe been blown away by the center of the explosion, only dust remaining of his body, because they had not found his body.

 

Their Khun, larger than life.

 

Dead.

 

And then the horror being filled with something else, something darker. Something wilder, impulsive, with grief so strong it had almost consumed Shibisu whole as his mind singled out one piece of information like it was all it could do to focus on it, not to completely crumbled from the sheer horror, the denial, the contradiction of those words together.

 

No, not just dead. Killed.

 

By Jue Viole Grace.

 

In that moment, Shibisu could have killed them all. All of FUG. But especially him, Jue Viole Grace. The Slayer Candidate. The one who had ended Khun’s life, when none of them were there. When none of them had been there, where Shibisu had not been there, to protect Khun.

 

Khun had died, alone, at the hands of FUG’s Slayer Nominee. And they had no right.

 

Shibisu had sworn, almost just on instincts, immediately, that they would pay.

 

He swore that he would make them pay.

 

But now he leant on the balcony’s rails and contemplated everything. Because apparently, Jue Viole Grace had not been the one who killed Khun.

 

The Slayer Candidate had not killed Khun. But FUG did. Shibisu had no idea what it was supposed to mean. Jue Viole Grace had been there, it had been specified. So had been Khun. And Khun had died, while Jue Viole Grace had escaped unscathed. What was he supposed to think?

 

“Tell me, what am I supposed to think?” he ended up asking aloud.

 

Laure sighed.

 

“I don’t know. You know him better than I do,” he stated the obvious. “Is Khun the kind of person who dies at a regular’s hand?”

 

Shibisu almost laughed.

 

“He’s not the kind of person who dies,” he replied without missing a beat. “And isn’t that the whole issue…”

 

Laure tilted his head, seemingly uncaring.

 

“I guess it is.”

 

“Could Jue Viole Grace not have been involved in Khun’s- death?” Shibisu found that the word was difficult to speak, completely surreal.

 

Because even now, as they talked about it, he could not feel it. They could not be talking about Khun. He could not be dead. But he was.

 

Shibisu might be in denial.

 

“Someone wants you to think he’s not,” Laure replied with a yawn. “The question is, what are you going to do about it, now?”

 

Shibisu had planned on ambushing Jue Viole Grace during the first qualifications of the Workshop Battle, in the middle of the confusion. But that was when Shibisu wanted revenge.

 

He still wanted revenge, of course. But did he want to enact it on Jue Viole Grace? When suddenly the circumstances of Khun’s death had become murky?

 

Something was not right. And before anything else, Shibisu wanted answers.

 

Who had the thief been? Why did they want Shibisu and his team to hear that Jue Viole Grace was not responsible? Why make a distinction between FUG and Jue Viole Grace? And how was it relevant in the context of Endorsi’s Emily app being stolen, since that had clearly been correlated?

 

And most importantly, who had really wanted Khun Aguero Agnis dead? And who had really killed him?

 

If Jue Viole Grace had not attempted to kill Khun, then… what did it mean? Because those two had met. Did it mean Jue Viole Grace had not cared, or that he had found interest in Khun? Maybe they had been in contact before. Or maybe not at all, after all. Maybe all of it was a mere coincidence, maybe Jue Viole Grace would not even have been aware of the explosion. Or maybe he had been, but had gone there anyways to try and stop it. Depending on the reason, there might be tensions between him and FUG. Because why would Jue Viole Grace not want to kill Khun if FUG wanted it?

 

In other words, not only could Jue Viole Grace potentially give Shibisu answers… but he could become their ally in their search for vengeance.

 

“I’m going to visit him,” Shibisu decided. “And make him tell me the truth.”

 

“So, just like we planned?”

 

“No,” Shibisu shook his head. “It’ll be too chaotic. Let’s go before the Workshop Battle starts.”

 

He turned to Laure, finally a plan of action in mind after three days without sleeping.

 

“When Jue Viole Grace is alone, or with as few allies as possible, we will go meet him.”

 

Laure raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“Shouldn’t you find him first?”

 

“Oh, we will. I’m going to start searching now. If I’m not back by morning, tell the others.”

 

“Isu, sleep. ”

 

Shibisu grinned apologetically at Laure, who looked like he was already getting a headache from the mere task of being awake long enough to warn their other teammates at dawn. Unfortunately, he could not sleep now. Not when they had so little time before the Workshop Battle to learn the truth.

 

“I’m sorry, Laure.”

 

Yeah. I’m sorry, he thought, leaving the building for more in hand information. But this is too important.

 

I can’t let them get away with it.

 

Shibisu was doing this for Khun, and maybe for himself too. But Khun meant too much for him to stop. So he started investigating.

 

Shibisu did not trust public information blindly, and did not rely on it during his investigations unless he found clean evidence of what he was looking for. But he did not fail to see the merit of starting somewhere first before building something reliable, even if it was something that might be completely false.

 

And so, his first move was to ask Emily.

 

Shibisu - Tell me where Jue Viole Grace is.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 21 of I can and WILL torture Khun Aguero Agnis to death-