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In times of utmost crisis, Fluixon imagined what he would say to Saparata if they were to meet again.
It bothered him. When adrenaline was thrumming in his veins, he should be thinking of which way of escape to use, not about the doomed man who was still annoyingly alive. Hell, he should be thinking about ways to kill Saps, curse him to his heart’s content, and maybe get some serotonin out of that. Except images of Saparata’s head on a spike never brought him joy.
Breathing heavily, he dived to the ground, narrowly escaping another arrow. NewKids and Hvyrotation shot back at their chasers, and he heard the cries of Tricolor soldiers as they tumbled down the crack in the ground that Flux had purposefully jumped over. Okay, that got him his precious serotonin pump.
“To that mountain!” he shouted at his men. Words couldn’t describe how glad he was that he had only brought the most competent to protect him. They understood his plan right away: go up and around the mountain to either hide inside a cave or gain a vantage point. He was also thankful for Yggdrassil’s harsh terrain — there were many natural traps he could work with.
He sprinted ahead while NewKids and Rotation quickly climbed up to shoot at the front line. Gotoga went up with him, and soon he heard the good news. “There’s an opening!”
The cave was large. Too open. Even if they tried to hide, they would be quickly found. Flux searched frantically. Anything, anything that could help him outrun Tricolor–
“There!” Flux sprinted down to where he saw water at the bottom of a large crack. “Get your boats!”
NewKids and Rotation managed to catch up, and all four of them rowed off the edge straight to the boiling canyon. No fall damage. Flux rowed as fast as he could in a random direction. Focus on losing the chase. Search for a way to the ocean later.
He imagined he would let Saps make the first move, just out of courtesy. He would block the attack and ask Saps if he missed him much. Saps would curse him, and then he’d–
Damn it. Not again.
The dramatic part of his psyche must’ve craved closure. For obvious reasons, he never confronted Saps to gloat about just how perfectly his plan had worked. Ideally, he’d have Saps restrained somehow and explain it all in detail. Surely his best friend would understand how perfect a scapegoat he was and how Flux just could not miss that opportunity. Pandora needed that shock for everything to fall into place. If only Saps could see how careful they were now. How wisely distrustful.
Was it so crazy of him to want to share that with Saps? They shared everything at the beginning, the good and the bad. Flux had seen Saps at his worst when he reminisced about that day he caved to guilt, cracking his head against Theria’s sandstone, and cherished that memory like no other. Unfortunately, Fluixon’s worst was his ambition, and that could not be shown to anyone who did not understand that the ends justify the means. From the moment he saw Saparata, he knew this was the one thing that would be met with disdain, no matter how kind Saps was to him in every other aspect of their relationship. Letting Saps develop a deep hatred for all the remaining components of Fluixon was the only choice. Only then would Saps hold all the pieces and declare them all rotten without looking closely at the ugliest one — his heart.
“I think we’ve lost them,” NewKids called. Just what Fluixon needed to get his shit together.
“Time to climb up, then,” he ordered. “We’ve been moving away from the ocean. We have to find a way around.”
So climbed up they did, and luckily, there wasn’t any nation in sight. If Flux remembered Yggdrassil’s geography correctly, they were somewhere between Westhelm and Nevermore.
“Alright, just avoid any civilisations, and we should be fine,” he said to his men. HvyRotation made a face at him, and just as Flux was about to roll his eyes and start arguing, his goon pointed at something behind his back.
“Civilisations seem to come to us.”
Flux saw the colors before he even caught a glimpse of the group that was slowly approaching them. There were about five heavily armed Yggdrassil men and one person from Pandora.
Fluixon’s breath caught in his throat.
“Oh shit,” NewKids exclaimed. “Isn’t that…”
“Fluixon,” Gotoga warned. “What do we do?”
He’d recognize that white head anywhere. There, in the circle of The Covenant shields, was Saparata.
It was like his feet were suddenly stuck to the ground. All of his imagined scenarios were replaying in his head one per second, a kaleidoscope he couldn't make sense of, until they all fell into a perfectly clear picture: he didn't actually know what he would do if he met Saps. And now it was happening, and Flux's blood thrummed with a lethal mix of dread and overwhelming giddiness.
He's here. He's alive. A bit scruffy, wearing a fur coat in the middle of a desert, most of his golden jewellery gone, replaced by leather belts and pieces of diamond armor. His expression was haunted, white hair dirty and tangled, still achingly beautiful, maybe even more so. Flux thought, perhaps a little perversely, that fear suited Saparata.
“Flux! He's with The Covenant! We can't take them!”
Gotoga was saying something, but Fluixon wasn't listening, because it was then that Saparata's eyes met his, and all of The Covenant halted with him. There was shock at first, then anger, and then something that Fluixon didn't dare to read; it looked too much like hope.
Flux took a step forward, opening his mouth to speak, and had to shut it a second later when a netherite blade was pointed against his throat.
Turntapp looked… different since they last met. For the first few seconds, Flux couldn't pinpoint precisely why. He seemed like a no-nonsense guy when they casually struck the armor trim deal, and Flux appreciated that in people. He held himself like a man who's earned his position. So maybe it was the fury in Turntapp's eyes that threw Fluixon off. The blatant show of animosity when they did not quarrel.
But then he saw it, the slight shift of Turntapp’s shoulders, the split-second look towards Saparata. Turntapp was fully shielding Saps. He aimed his blade at Flux because of Flux's role in Saps' story.
Turntapp believed him. And that made Saps allied with the whole Covenant.
But that wasn't what threw Fluixon off. No, it was something that suddenly bloomed deep within his chest, its roots making themselves known by tangling around his soft tissues and becoming one with his vessels, heating his blood to an impossible temperature. Something that was there since day one and scared Fluixon so much that he crushed and ripped and destroyed it over and over in his head to stunt its growth. But it bloomed in the shape of a red carnation, and he was utterly defenseless to stop it.
Because Saps now had someone else who was willing to protect him.
And it was unforgivable.
***
From a distance, Turntapp didn't recognize Fluixon at first. What made him match the name with the person was Saparata suddenly missing a step.
“Flux…?”
The barely hearable tremble in Saparata's voice was what sent chills down Turntapp's spine. Most would've only heard the shock accompanying the cursed name, but Turntapp did not miss the little distortion that happened every time Saparata had mentioned Fluixon in his story. At first, he identified it as disdain — surely one could only feel hatred towards those who betrayed them. But now he heard it loud and clear.
Hope.
The disastrous kind. The unwanted kind. The kind that left one longing for what could have been if they hadn't made that one mistake. The kind that made one curse themselves for wanting it fulfilled.
How terrible it was to recognize this feeling the moment somebody mirrored it.
Turntapp's body acted before his mind could even process the burning rage overcoming his every cell. In five strides, he was in front of Fluixon, this man whom he saw as no more than a fly, a weak and annoying creature of no use. Now, he wanted it squashed.
He wasn't thinking. He just took his blade and thrust it ahead. If it weren't for Saparata grabbing his forearm, he would've slashed Fluixon's head right off, and would've felt damn good afterwards.
To break Saparata's trust was one thing. Turntapp was already unforgiving about it to himself.
But there had been more to break. And Fluixon happily corrupted it like a fly poisons good food with its rotten limbs.
When he looked at Saparata, though, it was clear the disastrous hope still clung to him. His wide eyes regarded Turntapp with horror, and his half-opened lips silently screamed an adamant no. Turntapp had never let that thought come to the surface before, but Saparata's eyes reminded him of the richest mead of his nation. The gold of prosperity. He nodded, the barest of inclines, and hoped it was enough.
Before him, Fluixon's expression melted from shock into something twisted and ugly, some sort of insane joy that darkened his features.
“Oh?” Fluixon chirped, and Turntapp gripped his sword tighter, holding himself back from pushing the blade further. “Look who has an escort now. When did you make your little story so believable, huh? Saps?”
“It's the truth,” Saparata raised his head as he spoke, even and cold, and in that moment, he looked almost regal. “If you're constantly operating on lies, you tend to forget people can see sense.”
Turntapp sometimes wondered why he felt respect towards Saparata on so many occasions. At first glance, he was just some guy, but the more he spoke and the more he looked at Turntapp, sharp and knowing, the more he stood a little askew, as if he felt the responsibility weighing on his shoulders — the more Turntapp saw a leader. His presence carried a distinct air, not of someone like Schpood or Cynnika, but more like Benji; someone who took pride in providing for his people. The only difference was that, for some reason, Turtapp could tell that Saparata was not afraid of sacrifices. A style of ruling alien to him, but respectable nonetheless.
Inexplicably, Saparata forcibly dispersed this air, cracking shitty jokes and deflecting, but nothing could escape the trained eye of Turntapp. A quick judge of character was his friend both in battle and in formal disputes, but with Saparata, he found himself getting curious. Laughing along just to keep the conversation going. Looking for signs.
He thought it was just respect, up until the moment those golden eyes lay on Fluixon.
He thought it was just a little affection, up until he felt the overwhelming need to kill whoever wronged Saparata.
“I'm curious.” Out of the blue, Fluixon turned his attention to Turntapp, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Did he offer you another stack of diamonds for hearing him out? I heard you distributed the ones he gave you for protection ri~ght after I gave you some for this trim.” He showed off the dark marks on his enchanted armour, seemingly annoyed by the blade still hovering around his person. Then, with a hiss, he added: “Selfish bastard.”
“You forget yourself, Fluixon,” Turntapp growled through gritted teeth. “Netherite is fragile when someone doesn't know how to use it.”
“I wouldn't make threats like that if I were you,” Fluixon spoke quickly, but with confidence. “Hurting me would be hurting Luminara. And surely you know about Pandora's defense pact.”
“Big declarations for someone who was demoted,” Turntapp tried, remembering something that Saparata had told him. Politics was not his strong suit, and he grasped for leverage. He regretted his decision a second after; something about this statement flicked a switch in Fluixon, making him red with rage.
“My people took me back in because they love me,” he spat, and not a single word sounded genuine, but what came next was the real bullet. “Can you say the same about you? Do your people love you for harbouring a criminal? For engaging in the other island's politics?”
There was a rustle. All of his knights shifted at the same time, netherite brushing against their clothes. Turntapp gritted his teeth. How? How did this bastard know?
Fluixon’s stance relaxed, and a lazy, victorious smile spread on his features. “I see.”
“Turntapp?”
Uneasiness seeped through Saparata’s regal mask. Turntapp regretted looking.
Then he pushed forward.
Fluixon hissed and took a step back. Luminara’s men finally pointed their weapons at the Covenant. He felt Saparata’s hand squeezing his wrist.
“Hold the fucking formation!” Turntapp barked at his men. “I am still your leader”.
Saparata got pushed into the circle again, a desperate plea in his eyes. His knights looked back at him with defiance, but it looked like there would be no mutiny. For now.
Fluixon wiped at his throat and furrowed his brows at the blood the gesture left on his fingers.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today.” His sickly sweet tone was heavily tainted with anger. It made Turntapp want to scream. It was Fluixon who was fucking lucky . If it weren’t for those golden eyes…
“Let me take Saparata.”
Turtapp looked Fluixon dead in the eyes. Violet irises darkened to a deep purple. That disgusting fly seemed serious.
“Nobody on Pandora has to know about your nation’s involvement. Luminara will claim the arrest.” Fluixon’s metal arm danced on the hilt of his sword. He maintained eye contact, but Turntapp knew what he was really speaking to - The Covenant knights. “Your apolitical stance is your nation’s strength. Why lose it for one man?”
There was something dark in Fluixon’s form, a shadow to his expression, an intensity in his stare only seen in predators about to strike. Turntapp bristled. There was more to it than just Luminara claiming the fugitive. His intuition told him that if he let Saparata go right now, he would not see Pandora’s shore.
Fluixon wanted Saparata for himself.
As if.
“Get fucked, Fluixon,” Turntapp spat. “The only reason you’re still standing is that the world is yet to realize your crimes, and I will take much greater pleasure in seeing you fall than in killing you now.”
Fluxion looked as if he had bitten into something sour and felt obliged to chew. Surprisingly, it was Luminara’s men’s turn to shift their stance, their eyes darting left and right. Interesting.
Turntapp checked in with Saparata, and he must have also spotted the unrest, because his composed expression was back. That was all Turntapp needed to stand tall.
“And my nation’s strength is loyalty,” he continued in a low voice. A message - a threat - to all present. A reminder of where they all belonged. “Something truly alien to the likes of you.”
Fluixon bared his teeth. His metal arm gritted unpleasantly against his sword handle.
And Turntapp loved watching him squirm. He didn't have to look back to know that Fluixon shared a look with Saparata and was met with the same reminder.
Your spiderweb of lies won't hold for long. Saparata was able to break from your control. Soon, everything else will follow. The truth will prevail.
“Now get out of my sight,” Turntapp barked. “You disgust me.”
Fluixon seethed for a couple of seconds, looking like he was going to stay glued in place just out of spite, but after a beat, he finally released a long breath and signalled something to his men. At once, every Luminaran sheathed their weapons, and the group slowly began to leave.
Turntapp couldn't help but look towards Saparata again, and was delighted to see that his composure did not break for one second. He was seeing Fluixon off with a cold promise of a warrior. The next time they will see each other will be on the other end of their blades.
Saparata caught him staring. Startlingly, a small corner of his lips went up — a private, thankful smile.
Turntapp returned the gesture as best as he could, hoping he wasn't blushing. You're welcome.
And then Saparata's eyes went wide.
It was his only warning before–
***
Flux resisted the compulsion to rub at his throat. There was nothing there, but it felt like the roots of the damned carnation were tangling, scratching his insides.
He had no leverage. Turntapp had just literally threatened his men to obedience. One signal, and the Conspiracy would be instantly obliterated.
But he couldn't leave. Not like this.
He couldn't leave Saps with him .
Out of all people, it just had to be Turntapp. The leader of a viper’s den. Did Saps even know that The Covenant was still the main source of Yggdrassil's disdain towards Pandora? The main reason that Flux had to–
And look at him now, making his people do his bidding with no regard for their consent. Using his so-called loyalty as blackmail. That was no way to lead.
Why couldn't Saps see the filth underneath? Why was he looking at Turntapp like–
Okay, Flux knew why. Back in the day, Saps had looked at him exactly the same way — as if he just couldn't fathom the concept of malicious intent. Despite all his strength and wisdom, Saps was as innocent as that.
Flux had to protect him.
He couldn't leave like this. He had to protect him. He had to make him go with Luminara. He had to make him see. He had to stop that constant, infuriating scratching in his throat–
“No!”
Saparata's scream rang over the clash of diamond against netherite. For a split second, there was a look of absolute shock on Turntapp's face. Flux felt his smile widen. He didn't even register that he was smiling.
He pushed at the netherite plate on Turntapp's forearm that blocked a killing blow. Unfortunately, Covenant's leader had regained his composure. In a matter of seconds, he moved his left arm up, causing Fluixon's sword to slide off, and drew his blade.
They were too close. Flux wouldn't be able to dodge in time.
And then Turntapp stumbled backwards, his neck held by two white-sleeved arms.
Saps had basically locked him in a wrestler move and pulled . Turntapp was trashing in his hold, so Flux quickly jumped back, but not before he heard what Saparata was whispering:
“Please, Turntapp. Please, don't. Not now.”
Breath stuttered in Fluixon's chest. Turntapp was breathing heavily, face red from his fury, and Saps was basically holding him, one arm draped against his chest, the other wrapped around Turntapp's sword arm. The rest of the Covenant stood in shock.
His men broke the moment.
“What the fuck, Flux?” Gotoga screamed, looking like he was about to punch his leader. “The fuck did you do that for?!”
NewKids and HvyRotation moved in front of them, but they were also regarding Flux with concern.
Flux didn't feel like answering. He just looked at Saps. At his friend, who had just saved his life, after everything he had done. Who seemed so desperate to calm Turntapp down. Who looked back at him now.
And in that look, there was something broken.
A hope depleted.
Look at what you've done.
Fluixon swallowed hard, throat clicking. He felt like coughing up blood. He felt like pleading with Saparata to go with him.
He forced his shoulders straight.
“Let's go.”
I got my answers.
***
Only long after Fluixon's form dissolved in the desert's heated air did Turntapp realize his left arm was bleeding.
The bastard had cut through the netherite.
He finally relaxed against Saparata's hold and felt his muscles twitch, unsure whether they should release Turntapp just yet.
“Alright?” Saparata's voice came out a little too high in pitch. Embarrassed. Testing the grounds. Turntapp looked to the side.
“Yeah.”
He had never felt any loss when somebody's touch left him. He guessed there was a first time for everything.
Saparata moved in front of him and immediately looked at the destroyed forearm plate. “You should get that patched up.”
“Eh.” Turntapp shrugged, then winced. “Nothing a golden apple wouldn't fix.”
Why do you still want Fluixon to live?
Turntapp decided he would not ask. Jealousy was fruitless when Saparata was right there with him. They had time to figure each other out.
“I'm glad you're okay.” A shadow still haunted these golden eyes, but his quiet words sounded genuine.
“Don't worry about me.” He only scratched me. I would've killed him. You're the reason I want to. “Let's go. Schpood is known for his impatience.”
His knights grew tired of Saparata constantly breaking the circle, so they just let him walk next to Turntapp and formed around them both. Turntapp, though not entirely approving, was silently thankful.
They walked in silence for a while before he came to another decision. It was time to try and crack Saparata's mask a little. He tried not to care if his knights were listening.
“You don't have to believe me, but I chose to believe in you a long time ago.”
Saparata looked at him curiously, and Turntapp almost smiled.
“When you were looking for shelter in Al Quarasina, I… overheard them planning to kill you. There was a trap right under your feet when we got there. That's why I told you to leave.”
“Okay,” Saparata's voice wavered. “But… Why were you so vague about it?”
Turntapp sighed. “If I could overhear them, they could overhear me. I was worried they would seek revenge because they weren't able to collect their bounty. We're allied with them, and I just… didn't want that hanging over my head.” He looked at Saparata directly. “Not when I knew I'd have to explain to them why I made the right call.”
Saparata could be his own galaxy, the way he lured people in. Innocent enough to inspire protectiveness, experienced enough to produce respect. Turntapp could now identify that gravity-like pull. Maybe it was too fast a travel; maybe he would burn in the atmosphere before he could even see anything up close. He certainly had civil unrest to deal with.
But he knew it was worth it when he saw the same curiosity and wonder he felt in Saparata's eyes. It was the wonder of an explorer who had just stumbled upon a new species — a wonder of discovering that one piece that complemented the rest of the picture and gave it an entirely new meaning.
Turntapp could settle with curiosity.
If only it could bring that smile to Saparata's face every day.