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Chapter Text

Year 320 After Rise

The Howling Abyss, Shon-Xan, Ionia

The Howling Abyss glitters with a thin layer of frost, but Tian Ye has never felt the cold in the four years he’s spent locked behind the prison’s gates. Even with the temperature low enough for each puff of air to be visible, Tian Ye’s magic fills him with a fiery warmth from where it’s trapped inside him. 

None of the other inmates have the same luxury. Tian Ye is at least a constant source of heat for Viper, who can huddle close enough to steal some of the warmth clinging to his skin. He wishes he could do the same for Yechan and Zhao Lijie, whose shared cell is just down the hall. As it stands, all they can do is talk to each other, and that’s only on rare occasions. It’s too depressing calling out through the bars, voices raspy and choked from a lack of use. There’s never anything to say anyway.

Tian Ye doesn’t know how much longer they’ll be here, rotting away in some miserable part of Ionia enchanted to forever be in the midst of a harsh winter. He’d asked Viper about his sentence once, and Viper, speaking through the movements of his hands rather than the voice that had been stolen from him, simply told him he was supposed to be here forever. As if that was fair. As if any of this was fair, as if it was perfectly okay to lock them all away for the rest of time. So when he finds out there’s a way to set them all free, he knows what he has to do. 

Even standing before a demon, Tian Ye doesn’t shiver. He knows what the Chain Warden’s price is, and Tian Ye is willing to pay it for the sake of all those who have been wrongfully imprisoned inside these stone walls.

Still, he listens carefully as the Chain Warden lays out his terms. “For you, the power to escape this prison and take the revenge you deserve,” the Warden says, his misty green eyes shining with something unreadable. The same color of light swirls within his lantern, which he holds closer to Tian Ye, dangling it from an armored hand. “And for me, the simple offering of your soul. Do you accept these terms, Tian Ye?”

Tian Ye knows that if Viper were here in this space halfway between dreams and reality, if he were here to witness this deal being made, he would tell Tian Ye to stop. To walk away from Thresh and leave all the prisoners in the Howling Abyss to their fate, because their freedom was not worth such a high price. Not that it would change Tian Ye’s mind.

“I do,” Tian Ye replies. The Chain Warden’s lips twist into a cruel, victorious smile, and he raises his lantern high as it burns with that green light—

The warmth leaves Tian Ye’s body in a steady stream, leaching away until he’s finally able to feel the chill of the Howling Abyss. It doesn’t stop there, draining more and more until Tian Ye feels like every last drop of blood in his body has turned to ice. Tian Ye opens his mouth in a soundless scream, unable to draw the breath to power it. He feels like he’s dying, like he’s being torn apart—and then he’s sitting back in his cell, power running through his veins and no Chain Warden in sight. 

The Howling Abyss is freezing cold, and Tian Ye always runs hot, but he doesn’t feel either anymore. No, as he takes a deep breath and unleashes the demonic power the Chain Warden granted him, he doesn’t feel anything at all.

—

Year 322 After Rise

The Howling Abyss, Shon-Xan, Ionia

Heo Su isn’t sure which prison he hates more: Dael’eh Ahira, or the Howling Abyss. He’s inclined to choose Dael’eh Ahira—the Dreaming Pool—solely due to the sheer amount of time he’d spent trapped there under the water’s surface. Despite its name, the pool didn’t allow him to do much dreaming in his centuries-long slumber, forcing him to relive a single memory countless times over. In the Dreaming Pool, he’d remained willfully ignorant of his true situation. It was easier to pretend than to acknowledge the water surrounding him and risk feeling it in his lungs. All the while, he had felt his power growing until it screamed to be set free, clawing at his skin. When Geonbu had lifted him from the pool and forced the water from his lungs, allowing Heo Su his first breath of air in centuries, Heo Su had been sure that there was no worse fate than the blue-purple waters of Dael’eh Ahira. 

Now, he’s not so sure. The Abyss is colder than the Dreaming Pool; the frigid air leaves his hands numb and aching, chilling him down to the marrow. He can dream freely here, but that might not be a blessing at all. Here, he dreams of escape, of another universe in which they’d won the battle against EDG. He can almost feel his heart beginning to mend—only for it to shatter all over again the second he wakes up. He dreams of flames heating his shackles red-hot and electricity searing through his flesh, and he finds no relief in waking. 

Sometimes, Heo Su even dreams of Geonbu’s claws ripping into his throat. Geonbu freed him from his first prison, so it would be fitting for him to do the same now. And yet—

Power swirls just beneath Heo Su’s skin, thrumming in time with his heartbeat. Just like the Dreaming Pool, the Howling Abyss keeps his magic contained to his body, but it can’t stop the power from growing, fueled by his fury. He’s spent centuries in chains, and Heo Su doesn’t intend to let that happen again. Especially not when Geonbu will suffer the same fate. 

By the time the storm comes, Heo Su’s power is at its breaking point. He can feel it just shy of his fingertips as the wind and hail roar somewhere beyond the great stone walls of their prison. Heo Su knows it will find its way free through one way or another, Abyss be damned. In truth, their escape has only ever been a matter of time. All Heo Su needs now is one last push.

Thunder shakes the prison, almost impossibly close. Impossibly familiar. When the ground trembles again, Heo Su knows it’s not just his wishful thinking.

“Geonbu,” he calls out, trusting his friend to recognize the call of his name for what it is: a warning. Geonbu looks up, alertness replacing the exhaustion in his expression. 

Just down the hall, the wall explodes inward with a deafening crash, ice and dust swirling through the air. The wind howls even louder without the stone to muffle it, and a familiar figure leaps through the new hole in the wall, eyes alight with rage and lightning crackling across his skin. Hagwon’s gaze is flint-sharp as he scans the hallway, but there’s no missing the relief when it blooms on his face at the sight of his two teammates. 

Heo Su opens his mouth to call out, but his voice fails him, words getting choked up in his throat. He can barely recall the last time he saw Hagwon before he left to help FPX, and yet, Hagwon had come when no one else could. Heo Su doesn’t know what to say or how to react, but newfound determination swells in his chest, and he lets his instincts take the lead. 

His magic takes advantage of the hole in the Abyss, the one weakness in the near-impenetrable cage it’s been trapped in, and digs its claws in deep. Heo Su’s power begins to leak free, manifesting itself just enough for him to begin to hover off the ground. There’s no stopping the floodgates from opening anymore, so Heo Su lets the dam break entirely.

Heo Su’s shackles snap off his wrists and ankles, and as he flies forward, the bars of his cell twist open with an awful screech. He wastes no time in freeing Geonbu too, restraining his power just enough to ensure he doesn’t hurt his friend in the process. 

Unlike Su, Geonbu is already speaking, even as he scrambles out of his now-open cell. “You came.” He doesn’t give the hallway more than a cursory glance before he’s moving forward, reaching out towards the two of them with a plea in his gaze. Hagwon is quick to process, and despite the danger they’re in, despite the fact that EDG are surely on their way to stop them by now, he relents. The lightning in his hands flickers out, and as soon as it’s gone, he’s crushing Geonbu in a hug.

“Of course I did,” Hagwon responds, only the nervous flick of his eyes telling Su that he’s any more concerned with the danger they’re in than Geonbu. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”

They reach for Heo Su next, so he joins the hug and allows himself to savor the warmth for a second. It takes all of his remaining willpower to pull himself away after that brief second, if only for their sakes. “We have to go,” he says, keeping his voice as measured as he can. “They’ll be here any—“

Scout flies around the corner, stars glittering around him, and Flandre follows a moment later.

“—second.” 

Hagwon tenses, pulling himself out of the embrace to let his lightning run free across his skin again. He reaches into his pockets and pulls out two shurikens, which he prepares to throw. Su tries to copy him, to ready himself for battle, but the pulse of fear that goes through him at the sight of the two EDG members overtakes his rage, and he struggles to summon a single dark sphere. Geonbu seems similarly intimidated, but he crouches down and shifts into his lion form, a low growl building in his throat.

“Heo Su,” Hagwon hisses, never once taking his eyes off their enemies. “Can you fly us out?”

He should be able to, especially with months’ worth of stored power finally at his disposal, but Heo Su isn’t sure. His hesitation is enough of an answer for Hagwon, who grits his teeth as he calculates. Heo Su does his best to focus too, forcing another orb to appear behind him. Scout and Flandre haven’t moved from their position at the opposite end of the hall.

“You can’t win this fight,” Flandre says, the vine wrapped around his arm starting to creep up towards his raised hand. “You have… maybe thirty seconds until Meiko gets here. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to have another guest.”

Next to him, Scout stays silent. He just stares at them, making no move to summon his starlight-infused magic to his hand. It's... odd, to say the least, but Heo Su isn’t interested in trying to figure out what he’s planning. Flandre’s hand lowers a fraction, and Su doesn’t waste a second. He launches a sphere at Flandre, following it up with a pulse of power that sends both of his enemies flying into the wall. They slam into stone with dull thuds, and Su doesn’t feel the slightest bit of remorse at the sight of their unconscious bodies. Either they’re dead and deserve it, or they'll be healed as soon as Meiko arrives.

“Let’s go,” Hagwon shouts. He sprints back to the hole he blasted in the wall, Su and Geonbu following after him. 

Hagwon and Geonbu waste no time in leaping into the snowy landscape beyond, but Heo Su finds himself hesitating just before crossing the threshold. He knows there’s no time to turn back, but that doesn’t stop the pang in his heart when he thinks of what they’re leaving behind. When they’d first been taken to the Howling Abyss, Su had gotten a glimpse of a room full of weapons and tattered pieces of fabric and broken crests—Meiko’s trophy room. Su’s headpiece is in there, along with Geonbu’s spear and the shattered remains of Khan’s sword. Su can always get another headpiece, and although Geonbu is rather fond of his spear, he can fashion another one. Khan’s sword, however… it’s the last they have left of him now that his body is surely lost beneath the snow. The idea of leaving it in their mortal enemies’ hands has Su’s blood boiling, but he has no choice. 

He would understand, Su tells himself. He would want us to save ourselves, rather than his memory. 

Swallowing his grief, Heo Su soars into the open air and never looks back.

Chapter Text

Year 322 After Rise

The Howling Abyss, Shon-Xan, Ionia

Being a guardian isn’t at all what Lee Yechan expected it to be like. He’d imagined being busy all day, running around Ionia to rid it of whatever monster or warlord was wreaking havoc. He’d also thought that there might be a celebration for their ascension. A week-long banquet or something, just like the other guardians had gotten. 

The reality couldn’t be more different. Yechan supposes he lost his chance to have a party in his honor the second he ascended with EDG of all teams, since EDG are—well, to put it nicely, EDG are criminals. Killing a handful of the world’s past guardians probably didn’t earn them brownie points either. 

“Chan-ge.”

Ionia’s rather chilly reception to their new guardians aside, Yechan also isn’t the busiest these days. When they’d first gotten back from climbing Mount Targon, new power flooding their veins, Tian Ye had made sure to inform the world that they wouldn’t be running things the way Damwon did, or the way FPX did before them. No one was to bother them or even set foot in the frozen wasteland around the Howling Abyss, which Tian Ye had named Reykjavik. It’s been months, and Yechan still hasn’t asked him how to pronounce that. 

So now, instead of saving people or protecting the magic of Ionia or, you know, doing anything guardians are supposed to do, EDG just sit around the Howling Abyss, which they’ve renovated a bit since their initial breakout. Besides tormenting their prisoners, (when they even have prisoners, seeing as Tian Ye’s the only one who cares enough to capture any) there isn’t much to do except lounge in their new thrones and gloat villainously. Oh, and have snowball fights, but there’s only so many times Yechan can do that without getting bored. Especially when Li Xuanjun’s snowballs seem to have homing capabilities.

“Chaaaan-ge…”

Yechan blinks, finally registering that the voice calling his name isn’t a figment of his imagination. He turns to find Zhao Lijie leaning on the armrest of his chair, head resting in his arms. “What is it?” he asks, trying to disguise the way his heart jumps. Sneaky little shit. 

Lijie sees right through him and grins, but the joy melts off his face as quickly as it came. There goes Yechan’s hope of having something fun to do for once. “We had a visitor. Someone named Jeong Jihoon—”

“You said that horribly.”

“Shut up, I tried. Our visitor came to ask us for help. He said his village in Lhradi Forest was under attack.”

“Lhradi Forest, in Qaelin?” Yechan scoffs, and Lijie nods. “I’m sure SSG will be able to handle whatever’s going on there.” SSG, after all, had managed to be the main guardians of Ionia for more than three centuries before Invictus ascended. Even with the majority of them retired, Yechan is confident that they can protect Qaelin from any threat.

Lijie doesn’t look convinced. “Yeah, but this Jihoon guy said Ruler sent him,” he says, pronouncing the name only marginally better the second time around. “I know we’re not really doing the whole guardian thing, but I want to check it out. Just to be safe.”

“Okay,” Yechan shrugs. It can’t hurt for him to be a little responsible for once, can it? Lijie could probably use some time out of the Abyss anyway, even if his magic is no longer suppressed by it. This place kind of sucks shit. “Good luck.”

That doesn’t seem to be what Lijie was hoping to hear. He full-on pouts, staring up at Yechan with pleading eyes. “You’re gonna make me go alone? How am I even supposed to get there?”

“It’s not like I can fly you all the way to Qaelin. Go find a Windfarer and ask it for help. You’re a guardian now; they’ll probably listen to you. Just don’t be too annoying or loud. So don’t be yourself, I guess.”

“It’ll eat me,” Lijie protests. “Come on, this might be important. Why else would Ruler willingly ask us for help after what we did to his last team?”

Yechan grunts, but he can feel unease stirring in his chest as he thinks through Lijie’s reasoning. In the centuries SSG spent as Ionia’s main guardians, they had only really encountered one opponent that truly posed a threat. And that’s only if you believe the stories so old and so ridiculous they’ve been widely accepted as myth—or if you’re someone like Yechan, who knows better than to dismiss them. “Fine. I’ll come with you. Let’s make this quick, or Tian Ye will kick our asses.” Lijie shudders, but nods.

Reykjavik itself is a land of frost and stone, but the magic that keeps the temperature just below freezing only extends about a mile past the prison’s gates. It takes twenty minutes for Yechan and Lijie to reach the edge of the magic’s radius, where the snow abruptly ends and green and orange grass takes its place. They shed their winter boots and heavy coats as they cross the border, stowing them in a conveniently located hollow tree. Yechan makes a mental note to thank Xuanjun for bothering to put it there. Without the extra layers, they’re free to enjoy the pleasant warmth of a mid-spring Ionia. Yechan takes a deep breath, and for once, it doesn’t hurt to do so. 

They find a Windfarer fairly quickly—dragon-sized bird-cat hybrids are hard to miss. Lijie lingers a few steps back as Yechan approaches the Windfarer, avoiding direct eye contact while monitoring the movements of its white feline head. It cranes its neck as it looks down at them, then lowers its head so it’s almost at Yechan’s eye level. The Windfarer can’t speak Ionian, obviously, but its huff is clear enough approval. 

“See?” Yechan grins. “It’s basically just a big cat, and I’m great with cats.”

Lijie gives him a skeptical look, as if to say, yeah, a cat at least twice our height, with wings and talons that can take our heads off. “When was the last time you actually saw a cat, though?”

“Besides Canyon?” Lijie doesn’t seem to appreciate the joke, but Yechan is undeterred. He snickers enough for the both of them before continuing, since Canyon isn’t exactly the best example of a cat that actually likes him to any degree. “Tian Ye basically counts, and he loves me.”

“Does he?” Lijie asks, voice soft. He probably doesn’t even mean for Yechan to hear it.

It’s a genuine question, and the worst part is that Yechan can’t blame him for asking. His throat feels tight as he responds, “He would, if…” If he had a soul to love them with, if he hadn’t traded it to the Chain Warden in exchange for the magic that won them their freedom from the Howling Abyss a year ago. Yechan shakes his head. “He did. I know he’s… harsh now, but he did that to himself because he loved us.”

“Us?” Lijie repeats. “He barely knew me. If he did what he did for anyone, it was Viper.”

Yechan shakes his head so hard it makes him dizzy. He waits for his vision to stop spinning before he climbs onto the Windfarer’s back, gesturing for Lijie to get on behind him. “He didn’t know there was a way to escape before he met Viper. And he did do it for you, and for all of us. Viper was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

Lijie pulls himself up, wrapping his arms around Yechan’s waist while Yechan wraps his around the Windfarer’s long neck. “I guess,” he says at last.

He can tell Zhao Lijie isn’t convinced, but Yechan isn’t sure what else he can argue. Unlike him, Lijie never knew Tian Ye and all his warmth before the Abyss stole that from him. If he hadn’t known him for as long as he had, Yechan would probably have trouble believing Tian Ye capable of love too. Yechan’s heart gives a painful squeeze. 

One day, we’ll get his soul back. He deserves that much. Yechan doesn’t really know if such a thing is possible or if deals with demons can be broken, but he owes it to the friend he knew to try. Besides, as far as demonic connections go, Yechan’s a bit ahead of the average person. Maybe he can pull a few strings with his old mentor.

Yechan clears his throat, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He pats the Windfarer’s neck. “Can you take us to Lhradi Forest?”

The Windfarer huffs again as if offended that he’d even have to ask. It leaps into the air, its huge wings easily catching the breeze. Within a minute, they’re soaring above the clouds, and Yechan is dreaming of the jacket he left behind.

“We’ll be there in… thirty minutes, maybe,” Yechan says after taking a few seconds to gauge how fast they’re flying. 

Lijie has to shout over the wind for Yechan to hear him. “What if we’re too late?”

Yechan doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they probably already are. Windfarers are among the fastest methods of transportation out there, faster than even his own ability to fly. He doesn’t know anything about this Jihoon guy, but he doubts he could have gotten all the way to EDG from Lhradi Forest in under three hours. If the situation really was as dire as Lijie thinks, it’ll be over by now. Shit, maybe Lijie was right to worry as much as he did. Yechan hopes, at least for Lijie’s sake, that he was wrong. 

“SSG can hold their own,” Yechan manages to say. “They’ve defeated the worst of demons. I’m sure they can handle… whatever’s going on for a few hours.”

Lijie scoffs. “Those demon stories aren’t real.” He pauses, and Yechan can practically feel Lijie studying him. “Wait. Are they?”

Despite everything, Yechan can’t help but laugh. “You have no idea.”

“No shit, that’s why I’m asking!”

“Some of them might be made up, and some are definitely exaggerated,” Yechan hums. “But the one about the Demon King—the important one—is true.”

“You’re telling me they actually defeated—never mind. How do you even know?”

“It came to me in a dream,” Yechan says, wiggling his eyebrows for dramatic effect before remembering Lijie can’t see him doing it.

Just like that, he loses all his credibility. It might technically be the truth, but that doesn’t make him sound any less crazy to Lijie. If Yechan listens carefully, he thinks he can hear Lijie roll his eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious!” Yechan throws his hands up, then regrets it when he almost falls off the Windfarer’s back, which would probably end with him taking Lijie with him. He hastily grabs onto the Windfarer’s neck again. 

“Sure, and Viper’s middle name is Moon.”

They go back and forth for the rest of the flight over whether that’s possible or not—Ionians don’t usually have middle names, but seeing as Viper remembers next to nothing about his life before his voice was stolen from him, they have no way to know if he’s from Ionia at all. Yechan is halfway through arguing that Moon is also an Ionian last name when the Windfarer dips below the clouds for the first time since they took off. Yechan leans over to get a good look at the forest below—

A plume of smoke hits him in the face, and he recoils, coughing furiously. Lijie lets out a cry of shock, and then the Windfarer is diving towards the ground. The smoke begins to clear as they land, but Yechan’s eyes still sting as he scrambles off the Windfarer’s back and looks around. 

A sizable patch of forest, once blue and green and purple, has been reduced to a charred mess. Ash coats the ground, swirling up into the air with each gust of wind. Normally, Yechan would get horribly lost trying to find a village hidden away in Lhradi Forest, but he doubts that’ll be an issue today. The burned patch extends deeper into the forest, and at the end of the path it’s created, Yechan thinks he can see rooftops. 

“Shit,” he says, and then he’s running, Lijie hot on his heels. Yechan’s heart jumps into his throat as he rushes towards the village. 

He’s so focused on his destination that he almost doesn’t see the person on the ground. Yechan jerks to a stop just in time to avoid tripping over them. He leans down, but one good look tells him there’s nothing he can do. The person’s mouth is still twisted in a scream, and although there’s a gaping wound in their chest, there’s no sign of the weapon that made it. Yechan takes in their clothing—simple blue robes, with a few pieces of silver armor—and sucks in a breath. A village guard. 

Yechan shakes himself out of his shock and forces himself forward. He passes by two dozen more fallen guards and twice as many burned homes before the village center becomes visible ahead of him. 

The second they set foot in the center of the village, Yechan’s heart drops all the way from its place in his throat to his stomach. Whereas the rest of the village was in chaos, bodies left where they fell, this scene seems to have been deliberately arranged. Blood trails mar the stone tiles, which have been ripped from the earth and scattered around the area. Yechan traces the red smears across the ground, his eyes eventually falling on—

Next to him, Lijie doubles over and vomits. Yechan doesn’t know how his stomach is strong enough to prevent him from doing the same. He can’t rip his eyes off the scene, stepping forward before he even realizes what he’s doing.

Despite all the blood, there are only two bodies on the ground before him, both of them terrifyingly familiar. Ruler and CoreJJ are both alive, but only barely, faces pale and breathing weak. The wounds littering their bodies seem minor, save for the ones made painfully obvious by their position. Their wings stretch out, blue feathers half stained red and brown. With Ruler lying on his left side and CoreJJ on his right, they form a perfect pair. Ruler and CoreJJ, the legendary Lhotlan duo. Each a formidable warrior.

Each with only one wing.

For Ruler, it’s his right, and CoreJJ his left. Just under their shoulder blades, where their second wings should be, are charred black stumps. The wounds haven’t just been burned—they’ve been cauterized with frightening precision. That might keep them from bleeding to death, but it also destroys any hope of their wings being reattached.

As they look on, CoreJJ stirs. He must know what’s happened to him, face twisting in agony as he drags himself a fraction of an inch closer to his teammate. He must feel the sting, the unnatural lightness where his limb had once been. But CoreJJ doesn’t spare a glance at his back. Instead, he reaches out and says in a voice near a sob, “Jaehyuk. Oh, Jaehyuk…”

Yechan barely hears him. While Lijie stands frozen in horror, Yechan moves forward again, eyes locking on something just past the pair of guardians. CoreJJ and Ruler’s missing wings lie on the stones, the finishing touch to a bloody crest Yechan knows only from his dreams. It’s the crest of an ancient evil, a foe he’d thought long since defeated. The crest of his former mentor. 

“What happened?” Lijie croaks out, and Yechan wants to laugh. What does he think happened? The only beings capable of such destruction—other than EDG, maybe—are the ones who made Tian Ye into a monster. Demons.

CoreJJ manages to speak again, seemingly having just noticed their presence. “He’s back.”

“Who’s back?” Lijie asks, and this time, it’s Yechan who answers. The words feel heavy on his tongue, a practical death sentence.

“Faker. The Demon King.”

Chapter Text

“There. All done.” 

Viper blinks, snapping out of his thoughts to find Tian Ye stepping back from Jeong Jihoon’s unconscious body. He’s healed the major wounds, leaving only the rips in Jihoon’s clothing and the blood staining his white fox tails as evidence they were ever there in the first place, but that’s as far as the healing goes. Cuts and bruises still cover Jihoon’s skin, but apparently, Tian Ye doesn’t have any interest in healing them if they’re not actively life-threatening. Viper doesn’t know why the realization makes his heart sink. It’s not like he doesn’t know what Tian Ye is like now that he’s given up his soul. 

Never mind that, though. The important thing is that Jihoon will live. And Viper cares about that because, well—because he thinks he knows Jihoon. In the haze of his scattered memories, Viper swears he can see Jihoon’s face, albeit a few years younger. 

“What’s wrong?” Tian Ye asks. He almost sounds like he cares.

Viper raises a gloved hand. “Nothing,” he signs, because he refuses to get his hopes up. Tian Ye doesn’t care, as much as Viper wishes he did. He couldn’t care if he tried—although he would never try. “Just… thinking.”

“Whatever you say,” Tian Ye shrugs. He stands up before Viper can point out that he did not, technically, say anything, leaving Viper crouched next to Jihoon. There’s a soft jingle, and Viper reacts without looking up, catching the key ring Tian Ye tosses to him. “Take him to the cells and let me know when he wakes up. And did you see where Zhao Lijie ran off to?”

Viper shakes his head. He’d barely noticed Lijie running off in the first place, far too busy staring at Jihoon to pay attention to anything else. Even Jihoon’s desperate plea for help had sounded more like background noise compared to the thoughts racing through his mind. Viper reviews the facts in his mind as he scoops Jihoon up and starts to head down the hallway to the prison cells. He’d introduced himself to Tian Ye as Jeong Jihoon of Lhradi Forest, and he’s some sort of fox-related Vastaya. He was sent by none other than SSG’s Ruler, who, if Jihoon’s blue and gold clothing is any indication, might also be his teammate of sorts. 

As far as Viper remembers, which admittedly isn’t that far, he’s never been to Lhradi Forest. They don’t take too kindly to humans there, not unless they’ve been invited. By all intents and purposes, there’s no reason why he would recognize Jihoon, but Viper swears he does. And judging by the way Jihoon had reacted to seeing him, eyes going wide and jaw dropping, the feeling might be mutual. 

Assuming they really do know each other, Viper needs to know why. He only has the faintest memories of his life before the Lunari found him a few years ago. They’d offered him the moon’s power in exchange for his voice, but that hadn’t been the only price he’d had to pay. Between the brutal training and the torture, the Lunari had managed to strip him of almost any recollection of his past self. It was a small blessing that they’d even bothered to teach him sign before they sent him out on mission after mission to kill their enemies.

Viper pulls the door of one of the cells open with his foot, carrying Jihoon inside and setting him down on the bed. If a slab of stone with a thin blanket can really be called a bed. He steps back out of the cell and locks it, slipping the keys into his pocket. After a moment of deliberation, he leans against the wall and waits. He doesn’t care if it takes Jihoon a whole day to wake up—nothing’s going to stop him from getting the answers he suspects Jihoon has.

As he stands there in silence, question after question runs through his mind. He can’t ask them directly, not unless Jihoon happens to understand Ionian Sign Language, but that doesn’t stop him from thinking of them.

Why do I know you? Were we friends? And if we were, why didn’t you come save me?

Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long. Only about ten minutes later, Jihoon stirs, pushing himself up from his bed with a groan. Viper can tell the exact moment he remembers his situation, because his eyes go comically wide, and he sits bolt upright. Jihoon’s golden gaze falls on him, and his expression twists again, this time with… rage?

“I’d heard you were with EDG now, but I didn’t want to believe it,” Jihoon spits. There’s an accusation in his voice, but of what exactly, Viper doesn’t know. Jihoon’s glare is too venomous for this to be anything but personal. If Jihoon’s from Lhradi Forest, he probably knew Ruler’s team from last year. Maybe he’s holding a grudge over what happened to them. “You, of all people? After you were always going on about being a hero, about morality—you turned around and joined them?”  

What did you expect me to do? Viper wants to ask. He barely knows anything about Jihoon, but he has a feeling he would make the same choice Viper did if he’d been in his shoes. And—him, a hero? The idea seems absolutely ludicrous, but then again, Jihoon has no reason to make this up. Viper knows there’s about a zero percent chance that Jihoon knows what he’s signing, but he responds anyway, if only for his own peace of mind. “I don’t care what you think of EDG. If it weren’t for them, I’d still be rotting where you are right now.”

As expected, Jihoon’s fury subsides the slightest bit, replaced by confusion. “What are you doing?” he asks. When Viper doesn’t provide an answer, at least not one he can understand, Jihoon lets out a frustrated hiss. “Are you even going to say anything?”

Viper… isn’t sure he has a good answer to that. Nodding would be lying, but shaking his head would probably piss Jihoon off even more. If such a thing is even possible at this point. Even if he could speak to give Jihoon the answer he’s demanding, Viper doesn’t know what Jihoon wants to hear. So instead of responding either way, Viper goes for the third option, pushing himself off the wall and walking away. 

Jihoon’s shouts follow him, echoing off the stone walls of the prison Viper and EDG call home. “Wh—don’t just leave!” A pause. “Hey! Don’t you dare walk away from me!”

Since Jihoon doesn’t pose much of a threat to him behind bars, Viper keeps walking. If he wants to ask Jihoon anything, he needs to get one of his teammates to translate for him anyway. Xuanjun is out collecting plants, and Tian Ye isn’t an option for obvious reasons, so that leaves Yechan and Lijie. Wherever those two are. 

Honestly, Viper doesn’t care if the two of them are halfway across Ionia right now. The answers he’s been hoping to find for years are finally within his reach, and he’ll be damned if he lets them go.

—

Zhao Lijie is no healer, but he’d like to think he and Yechan do a pretty decent job of cleaning and bandaging Ruler and CoreJJ’s wounds. CoreJJ passes out a few seconds after delivering his message—a message Lijie still doesn’t quite believe—but when he wakes up a few minutes later, he seems to approve of their attempt. That, or he has bigger things to worry about, which wouldn’t surprise Lijie in the slightest. He’s not entirely convinced the Demon King exists yet, or that SSG actually defeated him three hundred years ago, but something destroyed this village and almost all of the people in it. 

Ruler still hasn’t stirred, so the burden of explaining falls upon CoreJJ. “The Demon King appeared in the forest without warning. He blazed a path to the village within minutes. We did our best to stop him, but it was no use.” CoreJJ takes a deep breath, and although he keeps his voice perfectly measured, there’s no disguising the grief in his eyes as he stares at Ruler’s unconscious form in the bed next to him. “Even in his weakened state, we were no match for him.”

“Weakened?” Lijie repeats. The village had been razed to the ground, and even the hut they’re sitting in is missing half of its roof. If that was the Demon King in a weakened state, how had SSG fended him off at all? Lijie voices the thought, and CoreJJ shakes his head.

“We didn’t fend him off,” he says. “The Demon King didn’t materialize fully; he inhabited the body of a human host. A mortal form can only withstand his power for so long before being destroyed. He could only appear in this world for half an hour—but it was enough. 

“As soon as we learned of the Demon King’s arrival, Jaehyuk sent four of our warriors to get help from any heroes or guardians that might answer our call.” CoreJJ finally moves his gaze from Ruler, and Lijie feels almost paralyzed under the old guardian’s stare. “You two were the first to arrive. As far as I know, you might end up being the last.”

“That’s not possible,” Lijie protests. “We’re so far from Qaelin. Someone should have gotten here before us.”

“We took a Windfarer,” Yechan points out. “That would still be faster than some of the nearby heroes.”

CoreJJ’s voice turns harder, with an edge to it that wasn’t there before. “There are no nearby heroes that are strong enough to help us, and the guardians that might stand a chance are just as far away as you, if not farther. A year ago, we might have been able to turn to RNG and FPX, but they’re in no position to help anymore.” Thanks to EDG, CoreJJ’s eyes add.

Lijie swallows. Out of the ten or so heroes between the two groups, only three of them are still alive, and one of those three isn’t in fighting condition. Guilt rises in his chest, and he opens his mouth, an apology on his lips. “I’m—”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Yechan interrupts. He stands up and starts heading for the door, turning back to gesture to Lijie. “We need to get back to Rey—Reykja—fuck. Back to the Abyss.”

Lijie feels as if a bucket of ice water has been dumped on his head, a perfect match for Yechan’s abnormally cold tone. “We’re going to leave?” he splutters. “Just like that?” Lijie looks back to CoreJJ, but the guardian doesn’t meet his eyes.

“The Demon King will not stop here,” CoreJJ says. “His power will only continue to grow now that he’s had a taste of our world.”

“And once it’s grown enough, he’ll return fully. If that happens, there won’t be anything left of Ionia to mourn.” Yechan takes a shuddering breath, his eyes focusing on something far away.  “Look, there’s nothing for us to do here. We need to tell Meiko the news as soon as possible. I only agreed to come in the first place because you promised we’d make it quick, remember?”

“But—” Lijie breaks off to address CoreJJ instead. “What will you do?”

It takes CoreJJ a few seconds to respond. “I have to be here for Ruler when he wakes up. Once that happens, and once the warriors we sent come back, I suppose I’ll…” His throat bobs. “I suppose then I’ll start burying the dead.”

His voice cracks halfway through.

Ultimately, the pain in the legendary guardian’s voice is what causes Zhao Lijie to make up his mind. “Go without me,” he tells Yechan, watching surprise flash across his face before it’s replaced by a flat expression. “I’ll find my way back later.”

“Meiko won’t be happy,” Yechan says, and judging by the irritation in his voice, Meiko isn’t the only one. Yechan crosses his arms and sighs. “Look, I know you want to help, but the Demon King is the bigger problem here.”

It’s hard to do under the threat of a pissed-off Tian Ye, but Lijie stands firm. “I’m not going to change my mind,” he replies, meeting Yechan’s eyes as evenly as possible. “Just go back without me. I won’t take long.”

Yechan just stares at him for one long moment, and half of Lijie wonders if Yechan’s going to try to knock him out and drag him back to Reykjavik anyway. “Fine,” Yechan mutters at last. He gives CoreJJ a look. “If you try anything…”

“Like what?” CoreJJ snorts. Lijie’s inclined to agree. Does Yechan really think he can’t beat an exhausted and wounded CoreJJ? Lijie almost feels bad for having that thought, though. He knows CoreJJ is a powerful guardian, especially if the stories about him defeating the Demon King are true, but it’s hard to reconcile that fact with the man in front of him. 

“Don’t take too long,” Yechan says, and before Lijie can do so much as nod, Yechan’s rushing out the door. Lijie spends a few seconds watching his retreating back before he thinks to get up and close the door behind him. A pang of disappointment goes through his chest, but he can’t even figure out why. What did he expect Yechan to do?

Now alone with CoreJJ and Ruler, Lijie begins to regret his decision almost immediately. Even without looking, he can feel CoreJJ’s stare burning into the back of his head, the awkwardness in the air impossibly stifling. Lijie clears his throat, returning to his seat by CoreJJ’s bed. “I’m, uh, sorry about him.”

CoreJJ doesn’t react to his words. “You didn’t have to stay.”

“I wanted to,” Lijie insists. “It’s the least I can do.”

CoreJJ gives him a small nod. His dark eyes study Lijie for a moment longer, and then he turns away to look at Ruler again. “I don’t know what to tell Jaehyuk when he wakes up,” he confesses. “I was the one who broke the news to him last year, too. That he was one of the only survivors.” Again, he leaves the obvious unsaid, something Lijie is beginning to realize is a habit of his. Last time, it was EDG’s fault.

“It was a devastating loss then,” CoreJJ continues. “This, though? This is a thousand times worse. The six of us fought side by side to protect this land for more than three hundred years.” This time, he makes no effort to disguise the sheer agony in his voice, allowing it to contort his face.

“I’m sorry,” Lijie says again, but it feels empty. What are two words from one of CoreJJ’s enemies going to do to make any of this better? Lijie doesn’t think he’d landed the killing blow on any of Ruler’s allies last year, but he’d helped to kill them regardless. 

CoreJJ shifts, turning to look Lijie dead in the eyes again. “Thank you,” he says, “for coming to help when no one else would.” Lijie can’t quite decipher the emotion in his gaze, one that doesn’t match his words. It’s not gratitude or resentment; it’s not forgiveness. But it’s more than Lijie could have asked for.

“It’s what a guardian would do,” Lijie replies. CoreJJ raises an eyebrow, and Lijie mentally smacks himself upside the head. He’s literally preaching about his duties as a guardian to one of the original guardians, and considering EDG’s track record, Lijie doubts he’s anywhere near being a model guardian himself. 

“It is,” CoreJJ agrees. “At least, it’s what they should do.”

He hides his bitterness remarkably well, but Lijie senses it all the same. He can’t blame CoreJJ. Ionia’s guardians are supposed to defend them from any threat, but they spend more time lounging in their palaces and libraries than protecting anyone. Not that EDG is an exception to that rule. It’s just—between Damwon and Invictus, they couldn’t be bothered to get off their high horses for long enough to answer a distress call, even when it came from someone as legendary as Ruler? Was it really too much to ask of them? 

Lijie grits his teeth. Somehow, he’s not surprised. He stands up, adjusting his gloves as he heads for the door. “I’ll get started on recovering the bodies,” he says before CoreJJ can ask. Someone has to do it, and after everything EDG’s done, this is the least Lijie can do.

He can’t shake the rising unease as he makes his way out the door. Despite his protests and complaints, Yechan would normally do something like this with him. If the situation is really dire enough for Yechan to be willing to leave Lijie in Qaelin—which, judging by the absolute destruction of the village around him, it is—then just how powerful is their foe?

Chapter Text

Now that Yechan knows to look for it, he can tell that the remains of the village reek of demonic energy. This particular magical signature is especially familiar, and Yechan wants to kick himself for not recognizing it immediately. He doesn’t want to believe it, but with a village razed, a crest drawn in blood and Faker’s magic still hanging in the air, Yechan can’t keep denying it to himself. Despite SSG seemingly having banished him to Hell three centuries ago, the Demon King is making his return. 

The Windfarer he rode on with Lijie is long gone, so Yechan flies himself home with the power of his twilight-infused magic. He’s still a little unsteady—flying is somewhat new to him, after all—but he manages to make do, arriving in Reykjavik after about an hour of dodging birds. Yechan retrieves his coat and boots from the tree he’d left them in, then flies the rest of the way to the entrance to the Howling Abyss.

To Yechan’s dismay, there’s a familiar figure waiting for him outside the gates. Tian Ye watches the flame dancing across his fingers with feigned interest, only bothering to look up at Yechan when he touches down on the ground. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” he says, extinguishing the flame in his hand. 

“I was with Zhao Lijie,” Yechan shrugs. He tries to edge around Tian Ye, hoping to get him to follow him inside so he can break the news. Unfortunately, soulless or not, Tian Ye knows him well enough to follow his train of thought. Before Yechan can take more than two steps, the chain of Tian Ye’s hook wraps around his waist and drags him back.

Tian Ye gives him a smug grin that Yechan can’t help but smile at the sight of, even though he’s probably about to get his ass handed to him. At least, he smiles until Tian Ye speaks. “So where’s Jiejie, then? Is he dead?” He uses the same tone he might use to ask about the weather.

“He’s alive,” Yechan says. Tian Ye barely reacts, but Yechan swears he sees a glint of something—satisfaction, maybe, but certainly not the relief one would normally expect—in his eyes. Tian Ye does, however, react to Yechan’s next words. “He just wanted to stay in Qaelin for a little longer.”

“In Qaelin,” Tian Ye repeats, his eyes narrowing. The chain around Yechan’s waist squeezes tight for a moment. Tian Ye keeps his voice measured, but there’s a dangerous undercurrent to it that Yechan doesn’t like. “Would your presence there have anything to do with a certain Jeong Jihoon’s request?”

Unlike Lijie, he pronounces the name perfectly, but Yechan has other things to focus on at the moment. “We just wanted to make sure it wasn’t anything serious. The thing is, Tian Ye, it was—”

Tian Ye lets out a frustrated hiss. “I told Jiejie not to go. If we start answering every plea for help, people will start thinking they can come barging into Reykjavik whenever they want, and then I’ll never get any peace and—”

“Tian Ye!” Yechan snaps. To his surprise, Tian Ye actually stops talking long enough for him to get a few words in. “The Demon King is returning.”

The expression that spreads across Tian Ye’s face is the closest thing to fear Yechan has seen on him since he lost his soul. Yechan barely feels the chains withdrawing as Tian Ye inhales sharply, then… presses the back of his hand to Yechan’s forehead?

“What?” Yechan croaks after a stunned silence.

Tian Ye draws back, frowning so deeply his forehead starts to wrinkle. “You don’t have a fever.”

“Of course I don’t—oh, come on, Tian Ye. I’m serious.”

“Well, I know that now.” Tian Ye spins on his heel, gesturing for Yechan to follow him. “Let’s go inside. If the Demon King is really coming back, which I’m only eighty percent convinced on so far, the last thing we need is for you to actually get sick.”

“Aw, Tian Ye. You’re going to make me think you care,” Yechan says, but he does as he’s told and trudges through the snow after Tian Ye. His friend snorts, but he doesn’t deny it, so Yechan will take that as a win.

Once they’re safely inside, where braziers and torches lit by Tian Ye’s magic keep the cold at bay, Tian Ye sits them down on what used to be the sofa in the prison guards’ break room and turns to Yechan with his arms crossed. “Okay. Explain.”

Yechan takes a deep breath, then gives Tian Ye the somewhat abridged version of the day’s events, starting with their arrival in Lhradi Forest. Tian Ye probably doesn’t need to know about the whole debate he’d had with Lijie. Yechan walks him through their frantic run to the village center, leaving no detail out when he gets to the crest painted in blood. “I knew right then and there that it had to be him,” he says. “I mean, I should have known just judging by the damage, but I didn’t dare to think that might be the case until I saw the crest.”

Tian Ye listens attentively, sharp brown eyes never once leaving Yechan. He doesn’t bother asking if Yechan is sure—the fear that must be audible in his voice is reason enough for Tian Ye to take this seriously. When Yechan finishes by explaining Lijie’s decision to stay behind to help with the burials, Tian Ye makes a face. “You should have dragged him back with you,” he scoffs.

“He wanted to help. Why would I deny him that?” Yechan shrugs. “It was the least we could do, and whatever goodwill he earns from doing that might help if we need SSG’s help later on.”

“We might need him here soon,” Tian Ye points out. “And we don’t need the goodwill of other guardians, especially not SSG. What are they going to do now, walk over to help? We’ll manage just fine on our own.”

Yechan swears he can feel his face fall. “No we won’t,” he protests. He stands up from the sofa and starts pacing around the room, Tian Ye watching him with a mildly judgmental gaze. “SSG were guardians for centuries for a reason. If Faker can defeat them in thirty minutes, we’ll—we’re strong, Tian Ye, but we stand no chance against him. He’ll kill us all, and then there won’t be anyone to stop him from doing whatever he wants with Ionia. We need the other guardians if we want any chance of making it out of this alive.”

“I’m not working with guardians,” Tian Ye insists. Rage burns in his eyes, a fire that betrays years-old hurt. “The last time I trusted a hero, I ended up here. In chains.”

“I know, but this isn’t the time for grudges. This is about Ionia—maybe even the whole world.” 

“It’s not about grudges,” Tian Ye says. “Heroes aren’t trustworthy. We can’t rely on them, not even a little bit.”

Yechan frowns. “What about Ming Kai? Or Hyeok—”

“Don’t say his name.”

“Sorry,” Yechan mutters, not particularly sorry at all. He doesn’t slow his pace as he circles back around to Tian Ye. “But you have to admit there are some good heroes. If the guardians are the best of the heroes, then surely some of them might be worth teaming up with, right?

Tian Ye doesn’t budge. “No guardians. That’s final. We can figure something out ourselves.” The steel in his eyes tells Yechan there’s no point in pushing the matter any further. 

“Fine,” Yechan sighs. “We won’t involve any of the guardians.” That’s a bold-faced lie. There’s no way he can turn down the possibility of getting any of the numerous powerful guardians of Ionia to work with them, even if that possibility is slim at best. Tian Ye might not agree, but Yechan knows Faker, and he knows there’s no way for EDG to just figure something out. “Where are Viper and Xuanjun?”

“Viper’s waiting for Jihoon to wake up, and Flandre’s…” Tian Ye thinks about it, his fingers drumming an idle pattern on the armrest of the sofa. “Collecting plants, I think. Near Puboe.”

That’s good timing on Xuanjun’s part, at least. The flight on a Windfarer’s back to Puboe can’t be longer than ten minutes, if even, but that should buy Yechan enough time to talk to Viper. That is, of course, assuming he can convince Tian Ye to go and get Xuanjun himself.

“I’ll find Viper,” Yechan says, trying to keep his tone casual. “Can you go get Xuanjun?”

Tian Ye frowns, clearly not buying Yechan’s act. “Why should I go get him?” he asks. “You’ll probably get to him faster than me anyway. And it’s not like you have to find Viper. He’s guarding Jihoon’s cell.”

Yechan has to think for a moment to come up with his excuse. “If I try to fly to Puboe, I’ll probably get lost.”

“No you won’t. It’s just Puboe.”

“Yes I will.”

Tian Ye sighs, massaging his forehead as if trying to ease his headache. “You will, won’t you?” Although he’s obviously not pleased about it, he stands from the sofa and starts heading for the door. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Try not to burn the Abyss down while I’m gone.”

“I make no promises.”

“That’s why I said try.”

The second Tian Ye disappears down the hall, Yechan turns to head for the cells—only to find Viper already standing in the doorway. Yechan jumps, stifling a yelp so as to not alert Tian Ye. How long was he listening?

The barest hint of a smile flickers across Viper’s lips, but his posture is tense. He doesn’t let Yechan get a word in edgewise—which is kind of embarrassing on Yechan’s part—as he signs, “I need your help.”

“Sure,” Yechan replies automatically, his mind moving a mile a minute as he tries to figure out how to convince Viper to go behind Tian Ye’s back and ask the other guardians for help. It won’t be easy, considering that Viper is probably the most loyal to Tian Ye out of the four of them. “Just—I need your help first, okay? There’s something really important going on. Like, world-ending kind of important.”

He fully expects Viper to agree as usual, so it catches him off guard when Viper shakes his head. “I know, but me first,” he signs. Then, like it’s an afterthought: “Please.”

“I’m sorry,” Yechan says with a shake of his head. “This has to take precedence.” He feels bad, he really does, but he needs to get Viper on his side before Tian Ye gets back, and who knows how long that’ll take?

Again, Viper takes him by surprise. “Whatever you need, I’ll do it. But you have to help me first.”

Huh. That’s one way to persuade Viper to help, Yechan supposes. “Fine,” he says before Viper can change his mind. “What do you need me to do?”

“It’s about the prisoner, Jeong Jihoon.” Viper takes a deep breath, his hands shaking almost imperceptibly as he continues. “I think I know him.”

Yechan feels like his eyes are going to pop out of his skull as he stares at Viper in near disbelief. “You—but how? I thought you didn’t remember anything before the Lunari.”

“I thought so too. But…” Viper pauses for a moment. “I have a feeling. And he definitely knows me.”

It doesn’t take much effort to put two and two together. “You want to ask him about your past, and you need me to translate.” 

Viper nods. “I haven’t told Tian Ye he’s awake yet. Just in case he wants to…” He makes a gesture that Yechan doesn’t recognize as sign but understands to mean torture him. 

“Right,” Yechan sighs, because Viper’s probably right to be cautious on that account. Tian Ye would have no issue torturing someone who had come to them for help, even if he’d just lost his whole village. Not that Jeong Jihoon knows that yet. “Let’s go talk to him.”

The infamous (not really) Jeong Jihoon turns out to be a rather tall nine-tailed fox Vastaya, which shouldn’t be a surprise considering he allegedly hails from Lhradi Forest. He’s also fairly good-looking, if Yechan does say so himself, although the effect is someone marred by the vicious glare he focuses them with the second they step into the hallway. 

“Scout,” Jihoon snarls. He turns to focus on Viper. “What, needed someone else to come taunt me?”

“Nothing like that,” Yechan says. He leans against the wall facing Jihoon’s cell. “We just wanted to ask you a few questions, that’s all.”

Jihoon lets out a frustrated hiss. “I don’t have time for that. I need to get back to Lhradi Forest.”

“You’re awfully demanding for someone who’s stuck in a cell,” Yechan snorts, then promptly remembers he literally just said he wasn’t here to taunt Jihoon. He takes a deep breath. “Look, if you want to go anywhere within the next week, you’ll answer our questions.”

Jihoon’s nine tails lash in what’s probably irritation, but he crosses his arms and nods. “Fine,” he says, voice tight.

With that settled, Yechan looks to Viper and begins translating as he signs. “How do we know each other?” Jihoon blinks, puzzled, and Yechan remembers to explain, “You and Viper, I mean. Ignore me; I’m just his interpreter.”

“You’re his—” Jihoon puts the pieces together mid-sentence, and Yechan is tempted to laugh at the way his expression shifts to something resembling guilt. He schools his face back into anger a moment later. “What the hell happened to his voice?”

“Long story, and I asked first,” Viper replies.

“You can’t expect me to believe you don’t remember me,” Jihoon huffs. A little egotistical, at least in Yechan’s opinion, but okay. Unless they were married, but Jihoon doesn’t strike Yechan as Viper’s type considering he’s not Tian Ye.

“I don’t remember much of anything,” Viper signs. “But I remember knowing you.”

Jihoon scans their expressions, his scowl seemingly frozen on his face now. After a few seconds, he grits out, “We worked together three years ago, on Griffin.”

“The hero team,” Yechan realizes. “I think I heard something about you before I was arrested. They said you were good enough to be the next guardians.”

Jihoon’s tone sours. “Well, we weren’t. We challenged Invictus—in a proper guardians’ challenge, mind you, not whatever EDG did—and we lost. After that, we had a… disagreement. Griffin split up, and you disappeared.”

“And the others?”

“Hyunjoon and Siwoo are with me on Ruler’s team—Gen.G. Jinhyuk is in the deep forest, Seungyong joined a team in Navori, and Sungwon…” Jihoon swallows, eyes glinting with sorrow. “He died the summer after we split up.”

“I’m sorry,” Yechan offers automatically.

Just like that, any sign of vulnerability is wiped off of Jihoon’s face. “If you were really sorry, you’d let me go,” he snaps. “I need to go help in Lhradi Forest.”

“It’s too late,” Yechan says without waiting for Viper to sign something. Jihoon goes still. “By the time Jiejie and I got there, the village was destroyed. Ruler and CoreJJ were the only survivors, but they, um… They each lost a wing.” Viper doesn’t react, which Yechan takes as a sign that he’d heard his entire conversation with Tian Ye earlier.

Jihoon sucks in a breath, grief and horror and rage swirling in his golden gaze in equal amounts. “And Hyunjoon? Siwoo? Wangho? Ruler sent them for help too.”

The last name sends a shiver down Yechan’s spine, although he can’t fathom why. He doesn’t think he knows a Wangho, but the name is eerily familiar. There’s something I’m forgetting, isn’t there? 

Yechan only remembers to respond when Jihoon pointedly clears his throat. “Unaccounted for, last I checked.”

Jihoon doesn’t exactly seem comforted by that. “Then they’ll need me more than ever. You need to let me go now.”

“What’s the magic word?” Yechan asks. The second the words are out of his mouth, Viper elbows him. Whoops. Yechan really sucks at this whole no taunting thing.

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Close enough,” Yechan sighs. He probably earned it. He glances at Viper just in time to see what he signs next, and the words have his heart racing. Yechan clears his throat. “One more question, and you can go.” Tian Ye is going to kill them for releasing a prisoner—or just Yechan really, since he’s still soft on Viper—but Yechan thinks this just might be worth it.

“Hurry up, then.”

“What’s Viper’s name?”

Jihoon blinks, momentarily stunned. “You seriously don’t know?” he asks after a pause. He shakes his head before Viper or Yechan can reply. “Pa—Park—” He turns red as the words get choked up in his throat, and it takes Yechan a second to figure out why.

“You’re a guardian now,” he says to Viper. Jihoon, by contrast, is not. “You have to give him permission to say your name.”

As soon as Viper nods to him, apparently granting just that, Jihoon manages to say, “Park Dohyeon.”

Viper’s eyes go wide, tears pricking up at the corners. He mouths the name, more to himself than to Yechan. Park Dohyeon. Despite Jihoon staring at them, Yechan can’t help but reach over and place a hand on his shoulder. 

“Dohyeon, huh?” he whispers, giving Dohyeon’s shoulder a squeeze. “It suits you.” Dohyeon gives him a shaky smile in return. 

In a surprising display of courtesy, Jihoon lets them have their moment for about three seconds before he ruins it. “Great. Can I go now?”

Dohyeon’s already stepping forward, taking a key out of his pocket and using it to unlock Jihoon’s cell door. The moment he pulls it open, Jihoon steps out, ready to brush past him and run. Dohyeon stops him by stepping into his path and shrugging off his jacket, holding it out to Jihoon in a silent offer.

If Yechan were in Jihoon’s position, he’d definitely take him up on that one. Reykjavik is cold, to say the least, and just because Jihoon doesn’t seem to be shivering doesn’t mean he’s immune to the extreme conditions. Also, Dohyeon’s jacket is a lot cooler-looking than Yechan’s. Jihoon, however, isn’t interested. He shoves the jacket back towards Dohyeon, already turning to hurry down the hall. 

Just for that, Yechan waits a bit longer than he should to call after him. “Wrong way,” he says when Jihoon looks back. Jihoon hisses a curse, pivoting on his heel and sprinting past them. Yechan cups his hands around his mouth. “And tell Zhao Lijie to come back!”

They follow him rather lazily, not entirely concerned about letting him out of their sight. Yechan doesn’t doubt that Jihoon wants to get out of the Abyss as soon as possible, so all he really wants to do is make sure he doesn’t trash anything on the way out.

His worries end up being for nothing—Jihoon doesn’t stop for a moment, not even when he steps outside into the bitter cold. Yechan watches him until he can no longer make out the tips of his ears against the snow.

“Well,” Yechan says, finally turning to Dohyeon to find him still staring after his apparent ex-teammate. “At least you got your questions answered.”

Dohyeon nods. “Some of them.”

“If you want to ask more, you always know where to find him,” Yechan shrugs. He takes a step back, gesturing for Dohyeon to come with him. “Now come on, it’s my turn to ask for a favor. World-ending catastrophe, remember?”

Chapter Text

Li Xuanjun swears he always misses out on the important bits.

Seriously, the one time he goes out on a day trip to gather plants, shit hits the fan. He has a good dozen plant clippings tucked away in his bag when Tian Ye arrives on the back of a Windfarer and demands he climb on immediately. Between what Tian Ye tells him during the short flight home and the debrief upon their arrival, the amount of information dumped on Xuanjun is starting to hurt his brain.

First of all, Viper has a name. And yeah, no shit, but Xuanjun was expecting to have to go on some cultist-murdering quest to figure out what that name was. What are the chances that their first (willing) guest in the Abyss after the plumber just happens to have been friends with Viper—no, Dohyeon? 

Speaking of that guest, he’d apparently been sent to ask EDG for help. By Ruler, no less. Xuanjun didn’t think someone like him would need help with much of anything if he had SSG by his side. Except all of SSG, save for Ruler and CoreJJ, are dead. Yechan and Lijie had confirmed as much when they’d gone against orders to help and found SSG’s village in ruins.

Said village’s current state is because of—fucking wait for it—the literal Demon King, who Xuanjun thought was a myth until twenty minutes ago. He’d known about demons, sure, what with Tian Ye’s missing soul and all, but he’d thought that the story of SSG vanquishing the king of demons was at least an exaggeration spawned over the past three centuries. 

In summary: Dohyeon figured out part of his mysterious past, Tian Ye almost took another prisoner, and Yechan and Lijie witnessed the aftermath of the Demon King’s attack. Meanwhile, Xuanjun was gathering plants. Gods damn it.

Once Tian Ye calls their meeting to an end, Xuanjun is just about ready to return to his room and scream into his pillow. His plans are thwarted by Yechan, who waits for Tian Ye to leave before he whisper-shouts at Xuanjun to come back. He and Dohyeon haven’t moved from their seats at the table.

“What is it?” Xuanjun asks as he pulls his chair back out and sits down across from them. 

“Tian Ye said we weren’t going to involve any other guardians or heroes,” Yechan says. “I respect him as our leader, I really do. At the same time, though, I respect the Demon King enough to know that the five of us don’t have a chance of stopping him alone. If we want any shot at protecting Ionia, we need more information, resources and capable fighters than we have access to right now.”

“So we need more heroes,” Xuanjun finishes, and Yechan nods. “And you want to go behind Tian Ye’s back to recruit them, because he’ll never agree to that.”

Another nod. “I haven’t asked Lijie yet, since he’s still in Qaelin, but I’m sure he’ll be on our side. If we work together to recruit the right people, Tian Ye might see reason.” He gives Xuanjun a hopeful, albeit nervous, smile. “So…?”

Xuanjun lets out a long sigh as he thinks. He trusts Yechan and Tian Ye equally, and he hates the idea of going behind Tian Ye’s back. That said, he agrees a lot more with Yechan’s line of reasoning. They can’t afford to let pride get in the way when their opponent is capable of slaughtering the strongest of heroes. After a long hesitation in which both Yechan and Dohyeon keep glancing at him and then averting their eyes, Xuanjun makes up his mind. “I’m with you. We need help. But who are the right people, exactly?” 

“The only heroes that we know are strong enough to survive against the Demon King for more than five seconds,” Yechan says. His face is enough to tell Xuanjun that he probably won’t like whatever Yechan has to say next. “The other guardians.”

Xuanjun has to admit it: his instinct was wrong. He doesn’t just dislike that answer. He hates it.

—

Lijie nearly loses track of time as he retrieves body after body, the number of casualties seemingly endless. His arms shake at his sides, sweat dries on his brow and exhaustion threatens to swallow him whole, but he doesn’t complain. It wouldn’t feel right, not when he knows that CoreJJ must be going through worse. 

When a cry of anguish splits the air, Lijie knows that Ruler must have awoken. He focuses on gathering the bodies farthest from the hut for the next hour or so, since getting any closer means hearing Ruler’s sobs. 

Lijie finally sits down to take a break in the village center, where he’d started laying the bodies out in lines. He hasn’t yet removed the Demon King’s crest—he’d have to move Ruler and CoreJJ’s wings first, and he doesn’t dare to touch them. Lijie only means to rest for a few minutes, but when he goes to stand, he finds that he doesn’t have the strength.

With continuing out of the picture, Lijie finds himself looking from corpse to corpse, feeling sick all the while. Not all of those who lived in this village were warriors, but that didn’t save a single one of them from the slaughter. As far as he can tell, no one was spared, not even the children. Lijie—Lijie can barely begin to process the devastation all around him, can barely comprehend the sheer number of lives lost. Each person on the ground had their own lives, their own dreams and aspirations—and the Demon King had killed them all in less than an hour. 

Ruler’s messengers return one after the other in the afternoon. There’s Doran, a rabbit-like Vastaya who appears out of thin air with a wand in his grasp; Peanut, a man with nearly every inch of his skin covered with bandages; Lehends, a spider shifter who might not be Vastayan at all; and of course Jeong Jihoon, who insists Lijie call him Chovy. Each of them react with the same grief and horror when their eyes land on the remains of their village, except for Peanut, who manages a jerky nod and a sigh. 

“By the way,” Chovy mumbles to Lijie as he walks past him to collect the bodies, “Scout wants you back in the Abyss.” He’s gone before Lijie can respond.

Despite Chovy’s words, when Lijie picks himself up a few minutes later, it’s just to keep working. CoreJJ emerges from the hut to join him and the other heroes, and with his help, they’re able to finish recovering the dead by midnight. 

Then comes the part Lijie is useless for—identifying the bodies. The warriors of Lhradi Forest move between the rows of corpses, murmuring blessings as they sort out families. The fallen guardians—CuVee, Ambition, Haru and Crown—get put into a group of their own. As for the severed wings, CoreJJ stares at them for a long minute before turning to Peanut.

“Get rid of them,” he says. “Before Jaehyuk sees.”

Peanut nods, crouching down and slowly unraveling the bandages around his fingers. He presses a hand to each of the wings, and as Lijie watches in disbelief, the wings begin to melt into dust. The bright plumage is the first to disappear, followed quickly by the skin and muscle underneath. The bones take the longest to go, but soon enough, the only evidence that the wings were ever there at all is scattering on the wind. Peanut stands, making brief eye contact with Lijie as he fixes his bandages. Go on, his eyes seem to challenge, weary yet sharp. Ask.

Lijie doesn’t have the courage. His question— why didn’t you stay and use that on the Demon King— dies before it even reaches his lips.

When the dead have all been identified, CoreJJ speaks to each warrior in a harsh whisper, then repeats their lists out loud to himself. His eyes rove over the rows of bodies, over the corpses of his fallen friends, something indecipherable in his gaze. Finally, CoreJJ lets out a long breath—and drops to his knees just in time for a sob to rip its way out of his chest. 

To Lijie’s surprise, no one moves to comfort him, leaving him to murmur what might be prayers in a language Lijie doesn’t recognize. After a few seconds, Lijie starts forward, ready to put a hand on his shoulder or something, but someone pulls him back.

Lijie turns to find Peanut standing behind him. “Shouldn’t someone—” he begins, but Peanut shakes his head.

“It’s okay,” Peanut says. “It’s good news, for once. There are three people not accounted for: Youngjae, Boseong and Eunji.”

Lijie vaguely recognizes the first two names—YoungJae and Bdd, the two other members of Ruler’s team that had survived the battle with EDG last year. The third name, however, is completely unfamiliar to him. “Why is that good news? Couldn’t we have just missed their bodies?”

“You might have,” Peanut says, “but we wouldn’t, not with our senses. If we couldn’t find their bodies, they must have escaped to the deep forest.”

Lijie isn’t offended, since he figures the warriors’ Vastayan traits would probably help them in their search. “Who’s Eunji, then?”

Peanut offers Lijie the barest of smiles. “You’ll have to figure that one out for yourself.”

—

When Lijie returns to the Abyss two days after he left, he’s met with teammates who have obviously been scheming in his absence. Once Tian Ye catches him up, he tries to head to his room to sleep, but Yechan yanks him into a storage closet before he even makes it down the hall. Lijie entertains the brief, fleeting hope that they’re just going to make out or do anything else that’s non-life-threatening, but that hope is quickly dashed when he realizes Xuanjun and Dohyeon are following them in. Damn it. He could use the stress relief right about now.

While Lijie daydreams about his pillow, Yechan explains that, contrary to Tian Ye’s belief, they have no intention of trying to face the Demon King by themselves. At least Lijie can be happy about that, since he’d spent enough time over the past two days burying the dead to know just how destructive the Demon King can be. 

“We’ll need you to go back to SSG, obviously,” Yechan says. “If you’re up for it, though, we think you should also go to Zhyun to speak to FPX.” 

Lijie’s happiness goes out the window and down the drain along with his dreams of making out in a closet . “Why?” he asks. He certainly doesn’t want to be alone with the remaining members of FPX. Besides, even if they’re strong enough to kill him, he doubts the three of them will be much help against the Demon King.

 “Because FPX has Karma, the Enlightened One,” Dohyeon replies. It takes him a while to sign out, since he has to fingerspell half the words so Lijie can understand with his less-than-comprehensive knowledge of Ionian Sign. “Karma carries the memories and experience of countless reincarnations within him. One of his souls must have witnessed the era of the Demon King three centuries ago. If anyone can help, it’s him.”

“But Karma’s host is Liu Qingsong,” Lijie protests. “Crisp is as likely to bite my head off as he is to agree to help.”

“They won’t be happy to see you,” Yechan agrees, which is not reassuring at all. “But Karma has a duty to uphold the balance, whatever that means. The Demon King’s return is a bigger threat to that balance than we are. And if that’s not enough for them to listen to you, Xuanjun has a theory that might interest them.”

Xuanjun nods. “Remember how Doinb died?” he asks, and Lijie nods. Of course he does. Sometimes, he still wakes up in a cold sweat from dreaming about the day they’d attacked FPX. Unlike GimGoon, who had died, well, like any other person would, Doinb had simply burst into flame. The fire died down after a few seconds, but where there should have been at least some remnant of a corpse, there had only been ash. “I think he might still be alive. When I was gathering plants, I found some bird tracks burned into the grass. And I know it sounds crazy, but his team name is FunPlus Phoenix. What if…?”

“That sounds like circumstantial evidence at best,” Lijie mutters.

“Like I said, it’s crazy,” Xuanjun shrugs. “But we don’t have to tell FPX the specifics—we can just say we might know what happened to Doinb.”

Lijie isn’t exactly convinced, but since they have a good chance of all dying before FPX can call their bluff, it’s worth a shot. “Fine. Where are you going, then?”

“The Navori Placidium,” Xuanjun says. “We’re hoping to recruit Invictus.”

Invictus. It’s been three years since he first encountered an Invictus guardian, but Lijie still can’t help the shiver that races down his spine. “Why would they help us?” He’d gotten his revenge on Invictus the year EDG first broke out of the Abyss—hell, he’d gotten more than revenge. At this point, Lijie can’t bring himself to harbor any hatred for them, only guilt. What they’d done to JackeyLove and Rookie… That had been far worse than what Rookie had once done to him.

“I’d say we should skip them, but they have the best libraries in Ionia at the Placidium, and we sure as hell won’t get in there without their approval. Plus, they can fly fast enough to carry messages across Ionia or even beyond, if it comes to that,” Yechan says. “Honestly, we’re going to have to bank on them being scared enough to put our, uh, differences aside. We don’t have any leverage with them like we do with FPX or SSG.”

“That’s not true,” Lijie blurts before he can really think about what he’s saying. Yechan, Xuanjun and Dohyeon all blink. He fumbles for his words as his teammates stare expectantly at him. “It’s not much at all, but I—once, when JackeyLove was imprisoned here, I gave him my jacket.”

In the dim lighting of the closet, Lijie can just barely make out Dohyeon’s nod. “I remember. Tian Ye was furious.”

Lijie winces. Yeah, he remembers that part too. “So, um. Maybe JackeyLove owes me…?”

“Maybe he would, if we didn’t kidnap him first,” Yechan muses.

Xuanjun coughs. “At least we didn’t kill him or any of his teammates. That’s more than we can say when it comes to FPX.”

It’s a low bar, even for someone as short as Xuanjun, but Yechan looks convinced. “Then maybe you should go to Navori, and Xuanjun to Zhyun.”

Xuanjun gives him a look of utter betrayal. “I hate Zhyun,” he protests.

“Would you rather go to Fae’lor?” Yechan asks, raising an eyebrow. “We can swap.”

Xuanjun’s shoulders slump instantly. “I’ll take Zhyun,” he mutters.

Lijie would laugh if he weren’t busy gaping at Yechan. “You’re going to Fae’lor?” There’s only one notable group in Fae’lor, and they’re just as likely to kill Yechan as the Demon King is. EDG might have beaten Damwon last year, but with ShowMaker’s magic responding to his hatred, he’ll be even stronger this time. 

“I have a plan,” Yechan tries to reassure him. “Remember Khan’s sword, the broken one that Tian Ye keeps in the trophy room? It’s probably all they have left of him. I think that if I bring them his sword as a peace offering, they might listen to me.”

“Or ShowMaker might turn you into a pancake,” Lijie says. 

“That’s just a risk I’ll have to take,” Yechan sighs. “Look, there aren’t any guarantees here except for the obvious: if we don’t try this, we’re all doomed once the Demon King rises. So if we have to, we’ll get on our knees and beg the guardians for help.”

No matter what he tries, Lijie can’t think of a counterargument for that. “Fine,” he says at last. “I’ll go to Navori, Xuanjun will go to Zhyun, you’ll go to Fae’lor, and… Dohyeon? What about you?”

“Chances are that the other guardians don’t understand Ionian Sign, so there’s not really a point in sending him to any of them. Instead, we assigned him the most important task of all: keeping Tian Ye busy so he doesn’t notice us sneaking around,” Yechan explains, Xuanjun nodding sagely in the background.

Lijie makes a face. As terrifying as that is, he’d rather talk to Tian Ye than any of the other guardians. “Can’t I stay and help him with that instead?”

Yechan and Xuanjun immediately start snickering. Dohyeon tilts his head, a faint smirk on his lips. “You can if you really want to,” he signs. “I don’t think Tian Ye will turn down a threesome.”

Xuanjun loses it first, howling with laughter that Yechan is too quick to join him in. Lijie chokes on air, feeling heat rush to his cheeks at a record pace as he processes what Dohyeon means. “Oh,” he manages to say. So that’s what Yechan meant when he said Dohyeon would keep Tian Ye busy. “Uh, never mind.”

Finally, Yechan manages to calm himself enough to say, “At least you won’t have to be here when they do their thing. Small blessings, you know?”

Lijie nods. That’s the most sense Yechan has made all day. “Right. When are we going?”

“I was hoping to go today,” Yechan admits. “You look exhausted, though, and it’ll be dark soon anyway. We can probably afford to wait until tomorrow morning.”

Lijie gives him a grateful smile. He really is exhausted. He also happens to be deeply interested in burying his face in a pillow and screaming. “Sounds good. Thanks.”

“It’s settled, then,” Yechan says. “Get some sleep, everyone not named Park Dohyeon. Tomorrow is when the real fun begins.”

Chapter Text

Xuanjun takes a Windfarer to Zhyun’s coast, then walks the rest of the way to FPX, whose base sits in the center of a volcano-filled mountain range. He climbs over dark rocks and leaps past pools of steaming hot water of all sorts of colors, gagging all the while from the stench of sulfur hanging thick in the air. He would have much preferred speaking to Invictus in Navori, where roots decorate the landscape and a cool breeze always blows. Here, surrounded by nothing but fire and rock, he’s never felt more out of his element. 

FPX’s once-great castle is still half in ruins, just like Xuanjun remembers. As far as he can tell, it hasn’t been repaired at all. There’s only one tower remaining, stretching up to claw at the sky like it wants nothing more than to fly away from this hellscape. It really is a hellscape, with no sign of its guardians in sight. Unless that skeleton half covered by ash is GimGoon’s. 

Tian Ye would love it here, Xuanjun thinks bitterly. Fire is his thing, after all.

Xuanjun reaches the stone doors of the castle and slams the appropriately phoenix-shaped knocker a few times. He doesn’t get a real response, but the force of his knock showers him with dust and cracks the door open, so he slips inside.

“Hello?” Xuanjun calls out as he walks through cobweb-filled hallways. He pulls his bag closer to his chest, where he has a few plant specimens in jars in case he needs to fight. Not that he’ll really be able to match FPX once they burn through his weapons. “Anyone home?”

Nothing but a rumble answers him. Xuanjun keeps walking anyway, searching for the throne room. He doesn’t quite remember how they’d gotten there almost a year ago, since a whimpering Tian had been the one to lead them through these halls while Dohyeon pressed his gun to his back. And speaking of that, why did Yechan think this was a good idea again? It hasn’t even been a year since EDG stormed the place and killed two of FPX’s members, reducing their castle to the wreck it is today in the process. It’ll be a miracle if they don’t skewer Xuanjun where he stands, let alone hear him out. 

Maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe there’s a reason Tian Ye has always been their strategist. He wouldn’t have approved of this plan, even if he’d been open to working with guardians. But Xuanjun trusts Yechan, so he’ll keep going. Just this once.

Xuanjun steps over a downed statue and finds himself in the throne room. Out of the five thrones lined up inside, only three are occupied. On the left, Crisp floats over his seat, legs crossed in a meditating position. His face, one which Xuanjun faintly remembers often being graced with a smile, twists into a snarl when his eyes fall on Xuanjun. Next to him, Lwx stiffens, raising his gauntlet and pointing it at him. As for Tian… his head turns in Xuanjun’s direction, but he can’t see him. He can’t see anything anymore, as a matter of fact. Tian Ye had taken care of that. 

“Come to finish us off?” Lwx asks, voice low and rough. The anger he tries to force into his tone doesn’t quite meet his eyes, though. If Xuanjun’s here to kill him, Lwx seems to have resigned himself to it already. Exhaustion drags down every line of his face, and although he’s seated right next to his fellow guardians, they seem like they’re worlds apart. This hall used to be filled with light and laughter and life. Now, even Lwx looks empty. 

Xuanjun’s tongue feels thick as he gets the word out. “No.”

Tian stirs at the sound of his voice, and it’s easy to read the fear that overtakes his expression even with the blindfold covering his eye sockets. He reaches to Lwx—no, not to Lwx, but to Crisp, who silently walks over and places a hand on his arm. Crisp’s eyes don’t leave Xuanjun all the while, his glare blisteringly hot. 

“Then what the fuck do you want?” Crisp demands. The magic swirling behind him flares in response to his anger, and Lwx flinches away. “Our trophies? Our treasure? There’s nothing left here for you to take.”

Xuanjun swallows. He feels ridiculous even saying it when he’s part of the reason their throne room is so bare. “I came to ask for your help.”

Crisp’s lips curl into a sneer, but Lwx beats him to the punch. “You can go to hell,” he snaps.

I’m pretty sure I’m already here, Xuanjun would say, but that would be too ironic. “About that. The Demon King is returning. He slaughtered most of SSG in Qaelin three days ago, and CoreJJ and Ruler are… permanently grounded. If we don’t do something, the whole world might be at risk. I know you probably want nothing to do with us. But—” he turns to focus on Crisp— “you’re the Enlightened One. It’s your duty to help us uphold the balance of Ionia.”

“We’re not helping you,” Crisp says. Lwx gives him a long look, but Crisp turns his head in the other direction. 

Xuanjun takes a step forward, the slight movement causing Lwx to ready his gauntlet. “Please,” he says. “You’re guardians.”

For the first time, Tian speaks. “Not anymore.” His hand curls into a fist. “You took that from us.”

Xuanjun has one last trick to try, so he blurts out, “Doinb! We—we think he’s still alive out there somewhere. If you help us defeat the Demon King, we’ll help you track him down.”

Tian scoffs. “And what makes you think we want to see him?”

There’s a painfully obvious comment Xuanjun could make, one that he knows Tian Ye will be disappointed in him for not voicing. He’s not trying to antagonize FPX, though, so he just mumbles, “I thought… he was your…”

“My what?” Tian asks sharply, his fear vanishing in the face of his anger. Xuanjun doesn’t bother trying to tell him that he didn’t mean Tian specifically. Apparently, FPX have a lot more issues than he thought.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lwx says, taking back control of the conversation. He glances at Crisp and Tian again, but neither of them meet his eyes. Still, when he looks back to Xuanjun, it looks like his mind is made up. “No. That’s our final answer.”

“But—”

Lwx holds up a hand. “Two words.” He counts them off on his fingers, staring daggers at Xuanjun all the while. “Your. Problem.”

Crisp counts two words off too, but they’re on different fingers. “Fuck you.”

“That too,” Lwx says. 

Xuanjun shifts uncomfortably. “That’s six words.”

Rather unsurprisingly, no one laughs. Lwx stands from his throne, and Tian follows him. “Get out,” Lwx growls as his gauntlet starts to glow. “And never set foot in Zhyun again.”

Xuanjun wants to argue, but he knows this is a losing battle. He’s probably known it all along, really. He puts his hand over his heart and offers FPX a bow he really doesn’t mean to make look mocking, then turns and runs.

—

Lijie feels the air shift around him the second his foot touches the colorful grass of Navori, and although he’d normally reach for his blade, he can’t do that today. Yechan had told him that if he wanted any chance of Invictus hearing him out, he’d have to keep things peaceful and respect their traditions. That, of course, means no weapons near the Placidium. The guardians of Invictus can get around those rules on account of being the ones who made them, but Lijie doesn’t have the same luxury. 

As he makes his way across the lush landscape, Lijie becomes aware of the gaze on him, eyes burning into the back of his head. No matter how quickly he spins, though, there’s never anyone there. Which means whoever’s watching him is one of the two people he was hoping to avoid the most. 

Lijie makes it halfway up the steep hill to the Placidium before his stalker makes themself known. “You have a lot of nerve showing your face here,” JackeyLove calls to him as he shimmers into visibility. He looks much better than he did when Lijie last saw him, with some of the color returned to his cheeks and his Void symbiote covering him head to toe in armor. Then again, considering what they’d done to him in the Abyss, better is a low bar.

Lijie bows until he’s about to tip forward into the dirt. “Yu Wenbo,” he greets, remembering Yechan’s last-minute lessons. “Son of the V—”

“Shut the fuck up.” JackeyLove’s eyes flash, and cannons form themselves over his shoulders and on his hands. “I don’t want to hear you butcher your way through our traditions, and I don’t want any part of your games either. So tell me what you’re doing here, and maybe I won’t rip your throat out.”

“I came to talk to you,” Lijie says as he straightens himself out, watching JackeyLove’s cannons warily. “All of you, I mean. Invictus. Rookie’s your leader, right?” 

JackeyLove bristles. That was probably the wrong thing to say. “He doesn’t want anything to do with you. None of us do.”

“I understand,” Lijie replies, because hey, the feeling is mutual. “But please, just hear me out.”

“I don’t owe you anything,” JackeyLove snarls. He starts to charge up a plasma blast.

Something flickers in his eyes, though. The slightest sign of weakness. “You do!” Lijie shouts, capitalizing on the opportunity. He can picture the moment like it was yesterday—him holding his balled-up jacket out to JackeyLove, keeping his gaze firmly on his face to avoid looking at his painfully exposed skin, more red than purple with the cold forcing his symbiotic armor back. JackeyLove had been freezing, but he’d still taken a full minute to snatch the jacket from Lijie and pull it on. Really, Lijie didn’t do it for leverage—he just wanted to offer JackeyLove whatever comfort he could in that horrible prison, even if it was Lijie’s fault he was there in the first place. “The jacket, remember? I gave you my—”

“I know,” JackeyLove interrupts through gritted teeth. He seems to wrestle with something, but in the end, he lowers his cannons. “You have five minutes.”

“Thank you,” Lijie says. His brain feels strangely blank as he scrambles for his explanation. That was a little too close for comfort. “Three days ago, we got word of an attack on a village in Qaelin. We didn’t think it was a big deal, since SSG are based there, but Scout and I went to check anyway. And what we found…” Lijie takes a shuddering breath as he remembers the scene. “Only CoreJJ and Ruler survived, but they each lost a wing.”

JackeyLove goes deathly still. That, at least, should hit close to home. The members of Invictus all have wings—some of them from their heritage, and some from Targon’s power. Considering the Lhotlan blood that runs through multiple members, just like it does through CoreJJ and Ruler, JackeyLove must understand how devastating of a loss that is. Cutting off a wing… Even Tian Ye hadn’t gone that far. 

“The Demon King is coming back,” Lijie continues. “He killed SSG as revenge for sealing him and his allies away, and he’s not going to stop there. It’s only a matter of time before he reaches our world.”

JackeyLove is silent for a long moment, processing. Just as Lijie’s getting his hopes up, he raises a single eyebrow and asks, “And?”

“And—and we can’t fight him alone,” Lijie says, desperately trying to keep the conversation from slipping away. “We won’t be enough. We need your help to protect—”

“What was it that you said when you took over?” JackeyLove laughs humorlessly, eyes cold and dark. “Oh, right. No more heroes. No more guardians. It’s your own fault you have no one left to stand with you.”

Lijie feels like an idiot doing it, but Yechan told him in no uncertain terms to get on his knees and beg if he had to. He drops to the ground, ignoring the look of faux concern JackeyLove shoots him. “Please,” he gasps. “I’m sorry to come here, but I have to ask. It’s our only hope.”

JackeyLove’s expression becomes indecipherable. “Isn’t this ironic,” he mutters. “A guardian, reduced to this. Begging a monster for help.” Another laugh, just as empty as the last. “If you want me to lift a finger to help you, you’d better get Meiko to do the groveling in your place. I’m not listening to anything less.”

“But—” Lijie protests. “Meiko won’t—”

“I know,” JackeyLove says. Lijie’s about to give up when he sees the slightest bit of something flit across JackeyLove’s face. Eventually, he sighs, crossing his arms. “I’ll bring your message to the others. For the jacket. If they agree to help, I’ll let you know, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

It’s still a hell of a lot more than Lijie dared to dream of. “Thank you,” he breathes, staring up at JackeyLove. “We’re, um, meeting at the Lasting Altar at dusk. If you decide to come.”

JackeyLove nods, his gaze already far away. “After this, no more debts between us. Got it?”

“Got it,” Lijie manages to respond.

“Good.” JackeyLove crouches down and shoots into the sky without another word, dark wings spread wide. He doesn’t have to say it for Lijie to know there’s a dismissal in there somewhere, a not-so-gentle warning to get the fuck out of Navori if he knows what’s good for him.

Lijie doesn’t have to be told twice, implicitly or otherwise. He gets the fuck out of Navori.

—

By the time Yechan makes it to Fae’lor, it’s already past noon. He wonders how long it’ll take for Damwon to notice he’s here—although knowing them, they probably already have.

Despite his suspicions, he doesn’t run into anyone waiting for him at the shore, nor does someone confront him as he walks towards the heart of the island where Fae’lor Castle floats high above. Maybe that shouldn’t surprise him, actually. Ghost was often Damwon’s eyes and ears, and he can’t do much of anything from where he is now. 

Speaking of which… Yechan readjusts his grip on the bundle he carries, layers of fabric wrapped around heavy iron. This is the best he has to offer Damwon, and although he knows it’s not nearly enough to make up for what EDG’s done to them—nothing is, really—he can at least count on them hearing him out if he has it. 

Yechan makes it all the way to Fae’lor Castle without the slightest sign of a disturbance. He could just go ahead and fly up from here, but he’s not sure he’ll make it to the top without someone shooting him down. After a moment of deliberation, Yechan points a finger at the sky and shoots off a bolt of starry magic. It soars towards the castle, erupting in a shower of sparkles that quickly fizzle out. 

The response is instantaneous. The land itself seems to immediately be on edge as Fae’lor Castle rumbles with familiar power. Yechan squirms as he stares up at it, waiting for the guardians inside to show themselves.

He isn’t kept in suspense for long. Within a minute, the great doors of the castle swing open, and ShowMaker descends with a flurry of dark spheres orbiting around him. His allies follow behind him, balancing on a stone platform carried by ShowMaker’s telekinesis. Although Yechan can’t quite get a good look at them from down here, he’s pretty sure at least two of them aren’t in uniform right now. And he’s definitely sure that all five are pissed beyond belief.

“Lee Yechan,” ShowMaker calls out as he nears. The same opener as last time, if Yechan remembers correctly. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand.”

In response, Yechan unfolds the fabric around Khan’s sword and holds it up for ShowMaker to see, the green runes along the blade glinting in the light. He shifts his grip to hold on tight to the handle just in case ShowMaker tries to use his telekinesis to rip it away. Multiple members of Damwon suck in a breath as Yechan says, “I believe this belongs to you.”

ShowMaker stops his descent a few feet off the ground, his teammates landing behind him. Now that they’re closer, Yechan recognizes Canyon and Nuguri standing next to two unfamiliar heroes. They all eye Yechan warily, but they don’t raise their weapons. “You think returning the sword of a dead man—a man you slaughtered— justifies your presence here?”

Yechan swallows. “I think it does,” he says with a confidence he doesn’t feel. “Do you want it or not?”

No one responds, not even ShowMaker, who Yechan assumes has become Damwon’s leader in BeryL’s absence. The mage crosses his arms, perhaps sensing the deal Yechan is about to propose but unwilling to show his hand so early.

Finally, Yechan clears his throat. “In exchange for the sword, I want you to tell me everything you know about the Demon King.”

The response is instantaneous—Canyon and Nuguri stiffen, while the two other heroes exchange glances. ShowMaker’s eyes go wide, but he schools his expression back into something resembling disinterest before he speaks again. “You came all the way here to ask us about a children’s tale?”

Aren’t you from a children’s tale? Yechan wants to ask. After all, Yechan had grown up listening to the tale of Dael’eh Ahira just as much as that of the Demon King, and he’d even visited Fae’lor castle as a child. That was before ShowMaker appeared and ripped the fortress from the ground, of course. 

Mentioning that particular detail might not go over very well with Damwon, though, so Yechan chooses his words carefully. “Even children’s tales have some truth behind them, don’t they?”

ShowMaker doesn’t confirm it outright. “Hoping to gain some of his power?” he scoffs instead. “You’ll never find it. The Demon King is gone, banished long before your time.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Disappointment, however, is the last thing on Yechan’s mind. “Except the Demon King isn’t gone,” he says. “He was able to materialize in our world long enough to decimate SSG. There’s no telling how long we have before he returns for good.”

“Why should I believe a word out of your mouth?” ShowMaker hisses.

“You don’t have to,” Yechan replies. “You’re welcome to go see Lhradi Forest for yourself.”

ShowMaker’s eyes narrow, and he stares Yechan down, searching for any sign of a lie. “Even if what you say is true, not even EDG will be able to stop the Demon King. You might as well flee Ionia now, while you still can.”

“EDG can’t stop him,” Yechan agrees. “Not alone. That’s why I’m here, and why my teammates are in Navori and Zhyun. I’m not just asking for information—I’m asking for an alliance.”

“You’re working with the other guardians,” ShowMaker realizes.

Yechan nods. Hopefully, at least. “We’re meeting at the Lasting Altar at dusk.” The Lasting Altar is neutral ground, which Yechan figures will make it a far more appealing meeting place than the alternative. Yechan crouches down and sets Khan’s sword in the grass. “You can have the sword as a sign of good faith. Please, at least consider what I’ve said.”

He turns around and starts walking away, half prepared to dodge a spear to the back. The grass rustles behind him, a sure sign that someone has picked up the blade. Yechan fully expects Damwon to return to their castle in the sky to deliberate, but ShowMaker’s voice has him halting before he’s even taken ten steps.

“Scout.” Yechan turns around to see ShowMaker still staring at him, Khan’s sword now in his hands. “You have a deal.”

Yechan blinks. Did he hear that right? Judging by the way Damwon’s other members are exchanging looks, they’re just as surprised as he is. “Heo Su,” one of ShowMaker’s teammates hisses incredulously, but he doesn’t so much as look at them.

Yechan speaks before anyone can change ShowMaker’s mind. “Perfect. Then I’ll see you at the Lasting Altar. Please don’t be late.”

Chapter Text

Yechan heads to the Lasting Altar in high spirits, but his good mood is quickly ruined when he spots Xuanjun and Lijie waiting for him in the courtyard in front of the monastery. He doesn’t have to ask them how their visits to Zhyun and Navori went—he can tell enough from their dejected expressions. 

“They might as well have told me to kill myself,” Xuanjun says as Yechan lands.

Lijie’s news isn’t much better. “JackeyLove agreed to take a message, but he told me not to get my hopes up.”

“That’s better than nothing,” Yechan sighs, although he has a feeling they won’t be seeing Invictus at this meeting. So much for telling ShowMaker they were working with the other guardians. Yechan glances at the sky, where the sun is dipping below the horizon. “I guess all there’s left to do is wait and see what happens.”

Xuanjun nods. “How’d it go with Damwon?”

“They at least agreed to meet us here,” Yechan says, watching as surprise and relief flash across his teammates’ faces. “I’m worried, though. I kind of got the feeling ShowMaker only agreed because he thought the other guardians would come too.”

“Sorry,” Lijie mumbles, hanging his head. 

Yechan waves him off. “It’s not your fault. You did the best you could.”

“Still…” Lijie shifts uncomfortably. “What if no one comes?”

“Then at least Dohyeon had fun today,” Xuanjun says, which makes Yechan laugh and Lijie choke. 

Lijie’s worries—and Yechan’s, if he’s being honest—are for naught. Just as the sun disappears, Yechan makes out the silhouettes of four figures moving through the sky towards them. It’s not hard to figure out who that is, even before Yechan sees the horns of ShowMaker’s headpiece.

Damwon take their sweet time landing, casting suspicious glares all over the area. At this angle, Yechan can just barely see ShowMaker’s eyes under his headpiece as the mage scrutinizes every last plant, rock and movement in the area. ShowMaker even has a staring contest with an impressively unbothered crow on the monastery roof, but eventually, he seems satisfied enough to allow his teammates to touch down to the ground.

“I’m surprised you came,” Yechan admits.

ShowMaker doesn’t even look at him as he hovers next to Canyon, resting a hand on his teammate’s tensed shoulder. “I went to Qaelin after you left,” he says. “Ruler corroborated your story. Now—where are the others?”

“You’re the first to arrive,” Yechan says, since that isn’t a lie. He doesn’t miss the way Canyon’s hand drifts towards the spear on his back. The Lasting Altar is a sacred place, and weapons are just as strictly forbidden here as they are in the Navori Placidium, but Yechan doesn’t fault Damwon for breaking the rules. He’d probably do the same thing in their position.

“And your other teammates?” ShowMaker asks. He says other teammates like a slur.

“On their way,” Yechan replies. “Where’s your fifth?”

ShowMaker doesn’t answer, and again, Yechan can’t exactly fault him for that. Hopefully Damwon’s fifth member isn’t preparing for an ambush, though. The absolute last thing they need right now is for another fight with Damwon to break out, even if Yechan’s pretty sure EDG will win this one too.

Before they can fall into too long of a silence, Yechan speaks up again. By his best estimate, they have a few minutes until Tian Ye shows up, and he’d like to have at least a little bit of information before then. “So, what do you know about the Demon King?”

ShowMaker takes so long to respond that Yechan almost starts sweating. “In my village, we knew him as the first evil, an ancient horror. He reigned over Ionia for years, killing and destroying whatever he pleased, until almost all of the magic had been ripped from the land. Together with his allies, he was unstoppable, untouchable. The seers prophesied that he would rule Ionia forever, and that the rivers would run red with blood.” ShowMaker pauses, glancing at the one teammate Yechan doesn’t recognize. “The seers were…”

“Full of shit,” his teammate offers, and ShowMaker nods.

“Every being, no matter how powerful, has a weakness. SSG found the Demon King’s and used it against him. It took almost everything they had, but they were able to seal him away for what should have been forever.” 

Yechan can’t help the way his heart sinks in his chest when ShowMaker doesn’t continue any further. Aside from the mention of the Demon King’s allies and his weaknesses, that was nothing Yechan didn’t already know. “That’s it?”

ShowMaker crosses his arms. “Almost, yes. Fae’lor used to have some of the most carefully-kept secrets about demons in its walls, but most of that knowledge was destroyed when I woke up. The little that survived was destroyed when the castle fell from the sky—you might be familiar with that particular incident.”

Of course. When EDG had captured ShowMaker and imprisoned him in the Abyss, Fae’lor Castle had fallen out of the sky. They’d felt the impact all the way in Reykjavik. “I see,” Yechan manages to say. 

“Enough fairy tales. What makes you so sure that the Demon King will even return in the first place? What happened in the forest could have been a freak accident.”

“A freak accident that wiped out half of Ionia’s greatest guardians?” Yechan would laugh if they weren’t facing near-certain doom. “I thought you said Ruler already confirmed things for you.”

ShowMaker nods somewhat jerkily, patience wearing thin. “He confirmed that it was the Demon King who appeared in his village. He did not say if it would happen again.”

“Trust me,” Yechan begins, then realizes that’s practically an impossible demand. “Or—trust what you know. A being as powerful as the Demon King can’t be imprisoned forever. Centuries, maybe, but not forever. You would know, wouldn’t you?” He feels a little twinge of regret the second the last sentence is out of his mouth. As fun as it might be to taunt ShowMaker until he snaps, alienating him now can only go badly.

Beneath his headpiece, ShowMaker’s eyes flash a dangerous purple. “Watch yourself.”

“Sorry,” Yechan forces out, because antagonizing the one person capable of ripping this whole monastery off the cliff it's anchored to is probably a bad idea. “But you know I’m right. Now that the Demon King has had his first taste of freedom in centuries, there’s no way he’ll just let it go. He’ll dig his claws in and widen whatever gap he slipped through in the first place until it’s big enough for him to escape for good.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” ShowMaker says after a pause, as if the words pain him. Hell, maybe they do. “And, at the very least, the loss of four guardians will surely invite chaos once word spreads to the mainland. What do the other guardians have to say about this?”

“They’re concerned too. That’s why we’re working together.”

ShowMaker sees right through him. Rather pointedly, he turns his gaze to the darkened sky. “The other guardians won’t be coming at all, will they?”

Yechan feels himself deflate a little. “I don’t think so. FPX turned us down outright, and Invictus said not to get our hopes up.” He tracks the sun’s progress as it sinks below the horizon, disappointment stirring in his chest. If Invictus were coming, they’d be here by now; it’s not like they’re slow.

“Then we’re done here,” Nuguri says. He turns to ShowMaker, a silent agreement passing between them. Yechan opens his mouth to argue, but the glow of ShowMaker’s magic is already starting to surround the platform under his teammates’ feet. 

It’s not Yechan who ends up stopping them. It’s Tian Ye, who appears from the shadows so silently that even the crow startles. “I don’t think we are,” Tian Ye says, voice dripping with false sweetness. His hand is wrapped tight around the chain of his hook, ready to swing it at the slightest sign of danger. ShowMaker’s magic flickers and dies as Tian Ye turns to glare at Yechan. “Does someone want to tell me what, exactly, is going on here?”

Canyon and ShowMaker don’t look very happy to see him, to say the least. It only gets worse when Dohyeon walks up behind Tian Ye. Nuguri, on the other hand, reacts only with a narrowing of his eyes, while the hero Yechan’s starting to think of as just the new guy stares at Dohyeon. 

Yechan’s other teammates aren’t immune to the quiet threat of Tian Ye’s presence either. Xuanjun and Lijie glance at each other, then point to Yechan. Shit.

This was always part of the plan, but as Yechan takes in the way Tian Ye bristles, he starts to realize that he may have overlooked an important detail. Tian Ye had been the first of them to be imprisoned in the Howling Abyss, but it hadn’t been due to him failing to cover his tracks. It had been thanks to a hero Tian Ye had considered a close friend—a hero who turned him in. That hero is dead now—he’d been Tian Ye’s first target when they escaped from the Abyss—but that doesn’t change the fact that to Tian Ye, the situation they’re in likely feels like a betrayal.

“They’re not here to arrest anyone,” Yechan blurts.

To his credit, Tian Ye acts well. “Of course they’re not,” he scoffs. “They know we’d kill them if they tried.” Despite his confident words, Yechan catches the way Tian Ye relaxes ever so slightly. Yechan is about to start feeling accomplished when Tian Ye continues, “But that doesn’t answer my question, does it?”

Yechan takes a deep breath. Sure, his adventure today probably qualifies as a near-death experience, but this is the real hard part of the plan. “Tian Ye, I know you don’t like heroes.”

“Don’t like is an understatement.”

“Fine, you hate heroes. And after what Mi—what he did to you, I understand why. We all do. That’s why we joined you in the first place. You united EDG against a common enemy: the heroes that put us in the Abyss. But we’ve already won, Tian Ye. We defeated Damwon and climbed Mount Targon. We even declared that there were no more heroes.” Yechan takes a step forward, making sure to keep his gaze on Tian Ye. “That fight is over now, but there’s a new enemy we need to work together to defeat. As long as our goal—to defeat the Demon King and save Ionia—aligns with Damwon’s, why shouldn’t we form an alliance?”

“Because they’re Damwon,” Tian Ye argues. “They’re the worst possible option.”

Yechan waves his hands. “They’re also our only option. We already approached FPX and Invictus, and as you can see, neither of them were interested. So we can either fight with Damwon, or we can fight alone.”

“Then we’ll fight alone,” Tian Ye says. He turns away, only to be met with Dohyeon’s pleading gaze. Tian Ye turns to Xuanjun next, then Lijie, and whatever he sees in their expressions has him sighing. “What makes you think that they’re even worth allying with?”

“They’re the most powerful guardians after us,” Yechan answers. “More importantly, half of them are from Weh’le, where most of our knowledge about demons comes from. If there’s anyone who might know the Demon King’s weakness, it’s them.” 

“And you really think they won’t stab us in the back at the first opportunity?” Tian Ye challenges. 

“They won’t if they want to live,” Yechan says, catching the way Nuguri bristles at his words. Realistically, if anyone’s going to do any backstabbing, it’s EDG. “They know better than anyone—except maybe SSG—that the Demon King will raze Ionia if given the chance. They need us, and we need them, Tian Ye. Admit it.”

Tian Ye stares him down for a long minute in which Yechan doesn’t dare to speak. “Fine. We can share information, but that’s it. I will not fight alongside—”

The wind shifts, and Tian Ye breaks off to stare at something behind Yechan. Yechan turns to look and finds a blue bird speeding towards them, a note clutched in its beak. The bird flies past Yechan and lands on one of ShowMaker’s horns. Yechan has to pinch himself to keep from laughing as ShowMaker reaches up to take the note.

ShowMaker scans the paper, his teammates leaning over his shoulder to read it too. After a few seconds, ShowMaker looks back up at EDG. “We’ll have to continue this another time. Our presence is requested in Galrin.”

“What for?” Yechan asks.

There’s a dangerous glimmer in ShowMaker’s eyes as he shoos the bird off his horn. “Noxians.” He lifts up his teammates’ platform with his magic, and before Yechan can so much as ask ShowMaker when they’ll be available next, they’re flying off.

Yechan blinks. Noxian activity isn’t always cause for alarm—it usually is, though—but if things are so bad that the people of Galrin contacted Damwon instead of their island’s heroes, the situation must be dire. Normally, he’d love to shrug it off and let Damwon deal with whatever mess is going on there, but something about this is familiar. What if… Yechan takes a deep breath, but he can’t slow his rapidly beating heart. What if this is another attack by the Demon King?

Yechan spins to voice his thoughts to his teammates, and to his surprise, one of them seems to be thinking along the same lines. “I’m going to find a Windfarer,” Tian Ye says.

“What?” Yechan can’t help but splutter. “You want to help?”

“I want to make sure the Noxians on our land are dealt with,” Tian Ye corrects. He starts walking away, and Dohyeon doesn’t block his path. “Helping Damwon is an unfortunate side effect.” Tian Ye pauses, glancing over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”

Yechan looks around, meeting Xuanjun’s eyes first. They both shrug. Apparently, Tian Ye can tolerate demons, but he draws the line at Noxians. Yechan turns to follow after Tian Ye, hearing his teammates do the same. “Of course.”

—

At the center of the Navori Placidium sit the six thrones of Invictus, arranged in a half-circle to allow those sitting on them to look down at the land below. TheShy, Ning and Baolan—or Kang Seunglok, Gao Zhenning and Wang Liuyi, depending on who you ask—occupy their respective thrones, watching JackeyLove pace in front of them. His dark wings shimmer silver in the moonlight as he shifts them again and again, restless.

“Sit down, Wenbo,” Liuyi calls tiredly to him, one hand trying to wave him over. “There’s no point in pacing. It’ll only tire you out.”

Wenbo barely even seems to hear him. “He should be back by now.” He glances up at the moon, which hangs almost directly above them. 

“He flies the slowest out of all of us,” Seunglok reasons. He glances guiltily at the empty throne to his right a moment later, but if the others notice, they don’t point it out. “I’m sure he’s on his way.”

“And if he’s not?” Wenbo snaps. He doesn’t slow his pacing—if anything, he speeds up. “He could be dead in a ditch for all we know.”

Liuyi snorts. “EDG won’t even know he was ever there. Have some faith in him.”

“I’ll have faith when he can beat me in a sparring match.”

Unlike Liuyi, Zhenning doesn’t put much effort into concealing his amusement. Between his snickers, he manages to say, “He does beat you sometimes.”

“And realistically, we all know Euijin lets him w—“ Zhenning claps his hand over Seunglok’s mouth before he can finish, and although Seunglok gives him a look, he doesn’t bother pushing his hand away.

“He cheats,” Wenbo declares, crossing his arms. 

“He does not,” Liuyi says. “Illusions are half of his magic. Using them isn’t cheating.”

“Whatever. If Euijin’s not back soon, I’m going after him.”

Liuyi practically jumps out of his throne, his Vastayan ears flattening. “You can’t. If they catch you, they’ll—you know what they’re capable of. You won’t survive that again.”

Wenbo bristles, his feet stilling as he turns to glare at Liuyi. “What do you know about what I can and can’t survive?”

“A lot, actually!” Liuyi snaps. Seunglok and Zhenning watch the exchange in silence, unwilling to get between the two as they argue. “We had to come rescue you two. I saw how you looked after the Abyss!”

“Well, I’m so sorry you had to take time out of your busy schedule to come save our sorry asses. Since it was such a pain, next time you can let us rot!”

“That’s not what I meant, Wenbo,” Liuyi sighs, quieting his voice. “You know we’ll always come to save one of our own. Just like we would go to help Euijin if he actually needed it.”

Despite Liuyi’s soothing tone, Wenbo doesn’t relax even a fraction. “We have no idea if he needs it or not. As far as I’m concerned, we’re better off safe than sorry.”

“That’s a first,” Zhenning mutters.

Wenbo gives him a dirty look, but doesn’t dignify Zhenning’s comment with a response. “Like I said, I’m going after him. And you can’t stop—“

A crow swoops down, its form blurring into a flurry of feathers a few meters off the ground. White and silver take the place of black plumage, and Song Euijin drops to the stone tiles in a near-silent landing. “You’ll do no such thing,” he squawks, his voice still tinged with a hint of a crow’s caw. As Wenbo spins to look at him, Euijin spreads his arms wide. “See? Not a feather out of place.” He keeps his arms up while Wenbo scans him for injuries. 

After a few seconds, Wenbo nods. Euijin doesn’t put his arms down—he doesn’t get the chance to before Wenbo tackles him in a hug. Euijin, having expected it, keeps his balance with little more than a small adjustment to his stance. 

“Fly faster next time,” Wenbo mumbles. 

Euijin grins, using the hug as an opportunity to ruffle Wenbo’s hair. “I’ll try, Wenbo, but we can’t all be as fast as you.”

“You could at least try to be faster than Liuyi.”

“Hey, I’m right here.”

Eventually, Wenbo separates himself from Euijin and takes his seat in the throne next to Liuyi’s. As Euijin follows suit, Wenbo asks, “So?”

The remnants of Euijin’s smile slide right off his lips. “You were right to worry,” he says, and his teammates all inhale sharply. “EDG, minus Meiko, invited all the guardians. FPX didn’t show, and we technically didn’t either, but Damwon did. Why they heard EDG out, I don’t know. Half of them looked like they didn’t either. 

“ShowMaker confirmed the details. Ruler and CoreJJ lost a wing, and the others lost their lives. He also agreed that the Demon King wouldn’t stop there.”

Wenbo lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his already messy hair. “And Meiko?” He says the name like it’s a curse.

“He showed up last. It turns out he wasn’t in on the plan at all—Scout and the others arranged everything behind his back. Even he eventually agreed that the Demon King was enough of an issue for them to work together.”

“So we’re in deep shit,” Zhenning concludes. 

“Pretty much,” Euijin says. He glances around at the others. “So? What now?”

Wenbo gets back to his feet, as if spending a single minute in his stone seat was too much for him to bear. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asks. “You go find Duke and drag his ass back here so he can tell us what he knows.”

“And you?” Euijin asks, raising an eyebrow.

Wenbo’s lips twitch upward, but it’s not quite a smile that he regards his leader with. “I’m going to go see what Zhuo Ding’s been up to.”

Chapter Text

“That was Meiko, then,” Hagwon says just loud enough to be heard over the roar of the wind as Heo Su flies them towards Galrin, all the way across Ionia from the Lasting Altar. Su doesn’t have to look to know what kind of face Hagwon’s making. “The one who killed Yongjun.”

“That was him,” Geonbu confirms. 

Hagwon lets out a long breath. “I don’t like this,” he says. Su turns his head just enough to see Hagwon rubbing his forehead. “I know the Demon King is dangerous, but couldn’t we just ask Invictus and FPX for help ourselves? Why involve EDG at all?”

“EDG are the only ones who managed to best us in battle, for one,” Su replies, turning his attention back to the path ahead of them so as to not fly into a bird. “iG and FPX both tried and failed. Not that I don’t agree with you, Hagwon. Unless they can prove themselves to be even remotely trustworthy, I don’t plan on allying with them outright.”

Hagwon is silent as he processes Su’s words. “I trust you, Heo Su,” he says. “If you think this is the right choice, I can handle that. But I’d still like to contact the other guardians, just in case they’re more receptive to helping us.”

Su nods. “I suspect they will be. No matter how much they might hate EDG, they won’t leave Ionia to die.” Just like us. 

“Maybe we’ll be able to do this without EDG at all,” Daegil adds. Su mutters his agreement, even if he’s not so sure that’ll be possible. Fate would never be so kind.

Eventually, the four of them descend upon Galrin, half shrouded by darkness. As they near the ground, Heo Su catches sight of a small blue flame, and he guides his teammates towards it. “Hyeonggyu,” he calls softly.

The flame shifts down to illuminate Hyeonggyu’s face, and he waves them over. “There’s a Noxian ship just off the coast,” he tells them in a hushed whisper. “Large, but not a warship or any official military vessel. It’s been here for a little less than two weeks.”

“And the Noxians themselves?” Hagwon asks. 

“They stormed Pallas a day ago. It’s hard to spy on them without being spotted, but from what I can tell, half of them are setting up for some sort of ritual, and the rest are doing something in the Temple of Pallas. Probably trying to get through its defenses so they can get their hands on whatever it is the temple guards.”

“We don’t know what’s in the temple?” Su frowns. If the Noxians are after it, it must be dangerous, but he’s never heard anything about the Temple of Pallas. He’s also never really paid attention to Geonbu’s lessons about Galrin, though, so that might partially be his own fault.

Hyeonggyu shakes his head, but it’s Daegil who says, “Guarding the Temple of Pallas is a centuries-long tradition. Over time, the details of why the temple had to be guarded so heavily were forgotten, and now, not even the people of Pallas remember what they once swore to protect.”

“So it could be anything in there,” Hagwon concludes, and Daegil nods.

Su sighs. If it’s a centuries-long tradition, he can’t blame Geonbu for his own ignorance. “We should be careful about this, then.” Maybe a year ago, he would have been confident enough to fly straight into the Noxian camp, trusting himself and his allies to be strong enough to handle whatever they might encounter. But that was when Damwon had still thought themselves to be all but invincible, before EDG arrived to shatter that belief.

If only we hadn’t underestimated them so badly. If we’d acted sooner, if we’d confronted them when they had only just started to gain power, how many lives might have been saved? Not for the first time that day, or even that hour, Heo Su finds himself gripped with a sudden surge of doubt. Just yesterday, EDG were their sworn enemies. Can they really put all of that hatred and grief aside to defeat the Demon King? Maybe Heo Su was too hasty in his decision. Maybe he’d had a temporary lack of judgment, mind too clouded by anger and fear to make the right choice. Maybe—

“Heo Su?” Geonbu’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and Su blinks, finding his friend reaching over to put a hand on his shoulder. Like always, his touch is warm and grounding, and Su finds himself breathing just a little easier. Geonbu doesn’t ask outright, but Su can read the question in his eyes easily enough. Are you okay?

I’m fine, Su tries to say with the slightest of nods. “Let’s get moving. Geonbu, Hagwon, you lead the way.” With their night vision, they’ll be much better at spotting threats.

Together, the five of them make their way across the rocky terrain towards the Temple of Pallas, which lies on a cliff on the coastline. The closer they get, the less Su has to rely on Geonbu and Hagwon, with the glow of the Noxians’ torches lighting their path. The Noxians have started to erect a wooden wall around their camp, but it’s not high enough to prevent Su or his teammates from seeing the low altar in the camp’s center, surrounded by dozens if not hundreds of candles and strange symbols inked in red. A ritual, just like Hyeonggyu said.

Shouts break out across the camp, and Su startles, assuming that Damwon has been spotted. No one turns to look at them, though. Instead, the Noxians’ attention seems to have been drawn to the group emerging from the temple, carrying a large black object on top of a cushion. Su hovers a fraction closer, craning his neck to get a proper look at the Noxians’ prize. 

It’s a bow, Su realizes after a moment. The bow, twisted and glowing faintly, is unstrung, but that offers Heo Su little comfort. Even at this distance, Su can feel the malice radiating off the weapon, its presence powerful enough to have sweat beading on his brow and bile rising in his throat. He knows, not logically but instinctively, that that bow—that creature—is an abomination. Something that should not be, and yet is. Something that urges him to turn and run, something that reminds him of leaves crumbling into ash and fires that refuse to burn out.

Su doesn’t know what that something is, but it’s enough to keep him and his teammates rooted to the spot. It’s better to wait, he reasons, until they know what they’re dealing with. 

The Noxians lower the cushion onto the altar, carefully avoiding direct contact with the bow. As they back away, someone begins chanting, and the rest of the Noxians join in one after the other. 

It’s not hard to connect the dots. “A summoning ritual,” Daegil hisses. “Whatever’s trapped in that bow, they’re trying to free it.”

“We can’t let that happen,” Su decides. No wonder the bow was kept so deep inside the Temple of Pallas. Any presence that evil should never be allowed to see the light of day. “We attack on my signal. Kill whoever you must. And don’t touch the bow.”

His teammates respond with tense nods. Su calls upon his power, picturing Lee Yechan’s face for good measure as he summons a dark sphere. He finds his target in the Noxian that had started the chanting, then hurls the sphere towards their chest. 

Su’s aim is true, and the sphere finds its mark, sinking deep into flesh. The Noxian lets out a choked gasp, stumbling forward for a moment before collapsing to the ground with their face devoid of color. Chants break off into shouts of alarm as Damwon flood into the camp, weapons bared. 

The Noxians draw their swords and raise their spears, but that only makes them an easier target for Hagwon, whose lightning jumps from weapon to weapon, electrocuting everyone in its path. Geonbu handles those who escape Hagwon, shifting fluidly between man and lion to slash wounds across his opponents’ bodies. Despite Su’s orders, not a single wound Geonbu inflicts is immediately fatal, although they doubtlessly will be given time and a lack of medical attention. Similarly, Daegil’s moonlight bullets find their foes’ shoulders and legs more often than their heads, although he does shoot one in the stomach when they draw too close. Hyeonggyu focuses on backing his teammates up, knocking enemies and their weapons away with powerful gusts of wind. They’re hesitant to end an opponent’s life, even when not doing so might lead to worse consequences. It’s very much a hero thing to do.

Heo Su has no such reservations. He throws his spheres right at the Noxians’ heads, and when one of the Noxians grazes Geonbu’s side with his spear, Heo Su takes that spear and runs him through with it. 

Even when a few mages appear among the Noxians, forcing Damwon to dodge chains of crackling red energy and bolts of fire, they’re no match for Damwon’s might. The Noxian numbers begin to thin, with the survivors turning tail and fleeing. Su turns to survey their fallen enemies, who lie broken and bleeding all across the camp. In contrast, his teammates are almost untouched, and the wounds they do have should be easy enough for Hyeonggyu to heal.

“Good work,” Su says. “Let’s—“

A pulse of power knocks him from the air, and he tumbles to the rocks, gravel biting at his uncovered forearms. Su tries to push himself up, but he’s hit with a sudden wave of nausea. His heart sinks as he turns to where the cursed bow sat—and sees the young Noxian half-draped on the altar, their blood painting the stones and their hand on the bow. 

“No,” Heo Su breathes. 

Daegil acts first, taking aim and shooting the Noxian right between the eyes. That occasional killer instinct is part of the reason Su likes him so much. Unfortunately, it seems that Daegil’s bullet has come too late. Despite what should have been a fatal wound, the Noxian only laughs, the sound coming out as if made by a thousand voices. As Damwon watch, the wound begins to seal itself over, and the Noxian picks himself up. 

In the blink of an eye, the Noxian moves, shooting two tendrils of corrupt energy out of his bow. The tendrils catch Heo Su before he can scramble out of the way, pinning him to the ground. Heo Su manages to turn his head just enough to see his teammates struggling to stand against the same bindings, which slowly drag them down. 

Finally, the Noxian speaks, his voice settling into a single deep tone. “So this is Ionia.” His eyes, nothing more than white voids, sweep almost dismissively across Damwon before moving on to the landscape. “His Majesty spoke the truth. It is beautiful.”

His Majesty. Su doesn’t doubt that he means the Demon King. 

“And you…” The Noxian—or demon, whichever it is—turns back to glare down at Damwon as they fight against his magic. “You tried to keep me from it.”

Heo Su meets his gaze, never once pausing in his efforts to free himself. He remembers tendrils like this dragging him down once before—except those were roots, sent by the Spirit of Ionia to pull him into the Dreaming Pool. Given time, he’s sure he can escape the demon’s spell. All he has to do is focus on the hatred in his heart, strengthened by his centuries of imprisonment. Su tries to call upon his rage, but it’s harder to concentrate than usual. 

“But where are my manners? I haven’t even introduced myself.” The demon leans down, smirking at Su like he knows exactly what memories are flashing through his head. He straightens out to announce, “I am Hybris, the King’s pride, the fall of man—“

Daegil lets out an overexaggerated sneeze.

The demon grits his teeth, but by some small mercy, he doesn’t shoot Daegil then and there. “The Demon Prince,” he finishes, peeved. His displeasure only lasts an instant before it’s wiped off his face, replaced again by his wide grin. “But if my name is too much for your mortal minds to comprehend, you may simply call me Gumayusi.”

“Gumayusi,” Su repeats. The name seems simple enough, but there’s power lurking underneath the word, as if he’s speaking a guardian’s name instead. “What do you want?” Surely one of the others is making progress on their bindings too. If he can stall for long enough, they’ll be able to escape.

If Gumayusi knows what he’s planning, he doesn’t seem to be worried. “Isn’t it obvious?” he laughs. “I’m here to set the stage for the others. Then, once they rise, there will be nothing stopping us from welcoming our king back to Ionia at last.”

“The others?” Su looks around the remains of the camp as subtly as possible. Maybe if he uses his magic, he can bring a sword close enough to cut himself free. Except now that Gumayusi is watching him, he doesn’t stand a chance. Instead, Su begins to levitate a sword towards Hyeonggyu, who’s the furthest from the demon’s line of sight. 

“You’ll meet them in due time,” Gumayusi says. He stops to think for a moment, tilting his head. “Actually, I suppose someone else will have to meet them for you. After all…” He raises his twisted bow as it begins to glow, pulsing with malevolent energy. “You won’t be here much longer.”

Forget the sword, Heo Su decides. Even with his split-second decision, he’s almost too late. He summons a shield towards himself just in time to block the incoming arrow, watching in dismay as the arrow, a bolt of pure energy, nearly punches a hole through the steel. That shield won’t withstand another shot, and now Su’s lost the element of surprise.

As he expected, Gumayusi only seems amused. “Good try,” the demon snorts. “But which do you think will happen first—you running out of shields, or me running out of arrows?”

It’s a rhetorical question, since there’s no quiver to be found on Gumayusi’s back. Sooner or later, Su will have nothing to block with, and Gumayusi will kill them all. Su squeezes his eyes shut, trying frantically to organize his thoughts with his heart pounding so hard he can feel it in his ears. He could try to rip the ground they’re standing on apart, but he has no idea if these tendrils extend into the rock or not. If that’s the case, he doubts he’ll have the strength to break them free with fear overtaking the rage in his veins.

If defense isn’t an option, there’s only one thing left for Heo Su to try. He opens his eyes again and grits his teeth, focusing his power on a nearby tree instead. The tree uproots itself before Gumayusi can prepare another arrow, and Su sends it flying at Gumayusi’s head.

Gumayusi turns just in time to tumble out of the way, the tree’s longest branches just barely grazing him as it flies past. His mouth curls into a snarl as he sets his gaze on Su again. “And I was going to let you off easy.”

Su opens his mouth, an I doubt that on the tip of his tongue, but he’s cut off when the tendrils holding him down suddenly pull even tighter. They dig into his wrists and back, and to his horror, he feels one starting to loop itself around his neck. Judging by the noises of panic he hears from the others, they’re in a similar predicament. 

As bad as their situation five seconds ago was, this is certainly worse. They only have seconds before they fall unconscious from the lack of air, and Su doubts Gumayusi will give them the chance to wake up. Su barely feels his nails scratching helplessly at the stone as he thrashes, fighting one last time to free himself. The tendril around his neck tightens, and he struggles to draw in another breath. 

Su manages to tug free enough to turn his head, and through his rapidly darkening vision, he sees Gumayusi take aim. This time, Gumayusi’s bow is pointed at another target, one that sends a rush of cold through Heo Su’s veins. 

“Geonbu,” Heo Su gasps. Gumayusi was right—killing Su first would have been merciful compared to making him watch Geonbu die. Panic flares in Geonbu’s eyes as he fights to get out of the way of Gumayusi’s arrow, but he’s held fast by the spell. Power gathers around Gumayusi’s bow as Heo Su forces himself to focus, to feed every last bit of fury he feels at the idea of Gumayusi taking Geonbu away from him. It won’t be enough, Su realizes as time seems to slow down so he can count the milliseconds before Gumayusi fires. The best thing he can do here is throw Gumayusi away, and he doesn’t have nearly enough strength for that yet.

Su is just about ready to begin praying to the Spirit of Ionia—an act which he takes personal offense to—when light explodes all around him, turning his vision white. The pressure on his throat vanishes, and when he reaches up to shield his eyes, he realizes the rest of the tendrils are gone too.  

“What—” Gumayusi doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Su lifts off the ground and takes hold of the pieces of armor strapped to the demon, using them to fling him as far as he can. Gumayusi lets his arrow fly even as he tumbles through the air, but Su hears it hit the rock. He doesn’t rip his gaze away from Gumayusi until the demon has vanished over the edge of the cliff. 

Su lets out a long breath, turning back to look at his team. His friends breathe heavily as they pick themselves off the ground, but at least they’re able to stand. They’re safe—for now. If demons were that easy to kill, the Demon King wouldn’t be a problem in the first place. Now that Gumayusi has been summoned, the best they can do without a proper method of banishment is hope that they’ve destroyed his human host enough for him to have to return to Hell to reform his body. 

“Not bad,” an unfortunately familiar voice calls out to him, immediately returning the tension to his shoulders. Su jerks his head around to find Scout emerging from the treeline, stars shimmering around him. “I almost started to worry there.”

“How long have you been here?” Su snaps. If only he’d shown his face sooner, so Su could access the full might of his power instead of flailing around like an idiot. 

Scout laughs, perfectly unbothered despite having nearly watched all of Damwon die in front of him. “Is that any way to greet someone who just saved your life?”

“You didn’t do a thing,” Su replies. “You sat and watched!”

“Technically, it was Viper who saved you, but I was the one who told him to do it, so.” Scout spreads his hands. “I’m your savior by proxy. You’re welcome.” Su opens his mouth to retort, but Scout keeps barreling on. “Anyway, we would have interfered if we thought you really needed it, but it looks like you had it covered.”

“We?” Geonbu mumbles while Su puts the pieces together. The light that had freed them from their bindings must have been Viper’s doing. And if Viper and Scout are here, there’s a good chance that Meiko, Flandre and Jiejie aren’t far behind. 

The shadows stir behind Scout, and the rest of his teammates appear behind him, confirming Su’s suspicions. He thinks he’d prefer to have been wrong in this case, though. EDG may have just helped them against Gumayusi, but for all Su knows, that might just have been so they could kill Damwon themselves. “What do you want, then?” Su asks.

“Did you forget already?” Scout asks, feigning surprise. “We agreed to work together to take down the Demon King. I had a hunch that whatever was important enough for you to ditch us would be related to him. Looks like I was right.”

Su wishes he could forget that. He can already feel a headache coming on. “The demon called himself Gumayusi,” he says, opting to cut to the chase in the hope that it will keep him from having to speak to Scout more than necessary. “He said there would be more like him, and that once they were all summoned, the Demon King would follow.”

Meiko frowns, stepping past Scout to survey the remains of the Noxian camp. “How was Gumayusi summoned?” 

“The Noxians retrieved a bow from the Temple of Pallas,” Heo Su explains. He gestures to the altar where the bow once rested. “They set it down there and started chanting. We thought we interrupted them before they made much progress, but one of them grabbed the bow and transformed.”

“The bow is the forgotten treasure of Pallas,” Meiko murmurs. He continues walking, slipping past the fallen Noxians to inspect the symbols decorating the ground. “Who knew their treasure was a demon?”

“Are you disappointed you didn’t get to it first?” Hagwon challenges, crossing his arms.

Meiko smirks. “It was on my list.”

Hagwon lets out a frustrated hiss, turning his back to Meiko to address the team. “We should go,” he says. “Before Gumayusi comes back.”

“You threw him off a cliff,” Flandre protests. 

Hagwon raises an eyebrow. “You really know nothing about demons, if you think that’s enough to stop one.”

Flandre’s expression hardens a fraction as he replies, “Obviously. That’s why we had to ask you for help in the first place.”

“It’s also why we shouldn’t leave just yet,” Meiko says. Su glances over to see him just outside one of the tents, gesturing to his teammates to come over. “Let’s see what we can find here. There might be some record of the ritual preparations, or a hint as to what the Noxians’ next move will be. And…” His gaze turns to the sea, where Su can make out the shape of a ship. “There’s a ship we should sink once we’re done with it.”

Scout grins, moving over so he can lean against the half-built wall around the camp. “And who’s we, in this case?”

Meiko glowers at him, but despite the fire in his gaze, Scout doesn’t even blink, a mixture of mischief and hope in his eyes. “Us… and Damwon,” Meiko grits out. He turns around, but Scout’s smile doesn’t go away. “It’ll be faster if we all help search.”

That sounds reasonable enough to Heo Su, but Scout isn’t done yet. “I thought you said you only wanted to share information with them. This feels almost like working together.” He flutters his eyelashes, which earns him a disgusted roll of Meiko’s eyes.

Meiko huffs. “That was before we knew the Demon King had allies. Given the… circumstances, it only makes sense to ally with Damwon.”

“Funny,” Scout chirps. “Isn’t that what I said?”

“You were right. This time,” Meiko says, as if each word pains him to speak. “Now stop messing around and help me search.”

The rest of EDG trudge forward to follow his order, spreading out to investigate different areas of the camp. Flandre and Jiejie duck into tents with Meiko, while Viper makes his way from body to body, checking to see if any are still alive and rummaging through their pockets once he confirms they aren’t. Scout heads for the temple, which makes Su snort—there’s nothing like having an expert thief inspecting the site of a break-in.

“ShowMaker?” Hagwon prompts, and Su looks over to find his teammates waiting for his orders. Su isn’t an expert at reading people or anything, but even he can tell by the look on Hagwon’s face that he wouldn’t mind if Su decided they should head home and abandon EDG to their own devices. As much as Su relates, he knows that isn’t an option.

“Grab whatever looks like it might be useful,” Su sighs. He gets a few terse nods in response, and then the five members of Damwon join EDG in their search.

They don’t find much in the first few minutes—the best they have to show for their efforts is two pieces of paper, each with half of the symbols on the ground copied onto them. EDG seem to have better luck (or better investigative skills), because it’s not long before Jiejie emerges from one of the larger tents with a scroll clutched in his hand.

“Look at this,” he calls. Su hovers a little higher so he can see over everyone else as they gather around Jiejie to look at what appears to be a scroll written entirely in Noxian letters. Su supposes he should have expected as much, but his heart sinks a little at the sight of the unfamiliar characters. 

“Can anyone read Noxian?” Daegil asks.

“Dohyeon?” Jiejie passes the scroll over to Viper, who frowns at it for a minute before passing it back. Viper performs a complicated series of gestures, which the members of EDG follow diligently. 

“Just our luck,” Flandre mutters. 

Su glances at Geonbu. What are they talking about?

Daegil clears his throat. “He says he can’t read a word, which means it isn’t in the dialect that’s most common here. It could also be a coded message.”

It takes Heo Su an embarrassingly long time to understand. Those hand gestures Viper made weren’t just for show—they were probably Ionian Sign, or another sign language close to it. He’s seen Daegil use similar gestures on a few occasions, when he’d just taken his noctum and neither Hyeonggyu nor Geonbu were available to heal his throat. 

Viper’s mouth falls the slightest bit open, his eyes widening. A look around at the rest of EDG reveals similar expressions of surprise. “You understand him?” Meiko demands. 

Daegil shrugs, ducking his head. “Lunari and Ionian Sign are practically identical. It’s not that hard to figure out the differences,” he explains. 

Viper signs something back, this message much shorter than the last. His lips twist into a smile, which Daegil is quick to mirror. Whatever he says is lost on Heo Su and the rest of his teammates, with the possible exception of Hyeonggyu, since Daegil doesn’t bother to translate that one. 

“I guess that’ll be helpful,” Meiko says after a moment. “That way, one of us doesn’t always have to be around to translate for him. Jiejie, the scroll?” Jiejie passes the scroll to him, and Meiko turns it over, eyes settling on a red and gold wax seal. “That’s a Noxian crest—this came from one of Noxus’s most important organizations. I’m not sure which one, though.”

“This has to be important, right?” Jiejie asks. 

Scout nods, which makes Jiejie grin a little. “Probably. It’ll only be useful if we can find someone to read it, though.”

“I’ll take it.”

They return to searching the camp, but despite their best efforts, none of them are able to find anything else that seems valuable. There’s no point in sticking around any longer after that, especially since Heo Su isn’t too keen on re-encountering Gumayusi.

Just as Su’s about to call it off himself, Meiko calls out, “I think we’re done here. Time to search the ship.”

“And then sink it?” Flandre snickers.

“And then sink it,” Meiko confirms.

Heo Su doesn’t particularly care that his teammates probably won’t approve of such a destructive course of action. He finds himself smiling as he flies them to the ship—at least this will be fun.

Chapter Text

Damwon allow EDG to bring them to Fae’lor to nurse their wounds, albeit reluctantly. Seeing as Dohyeon can’t fly like a few of the others can, he rides on one of the Windfarers that brought them here, with Tian Ye and Nuguri seated behind him. All throughout the ride over the ocean, Dohyeon sneaks glances at Deokdam, who’s riding on the other Windfarer with Canyon, Xuanjun and Lijie.

When they’d first heard about Damwon’s new members, Tian Ye had told Dohyeon that Deokdam, despite his similar abilities, was nothing like him. In some ways, Dohyeon can see the truth in that statement—for one, Deokdam can still speak. Deokdam also seems fairly well-adjusted, while Dohyeon is—well, he’s a serial killer, so there’s that. But for the most part, Dohyeon thinks Tian Ye might have been wrong. Deokdam wields the same five weapons and drinks what seems to be the same poison. More importantly, he knows how to sign. Dohyeon hasn’t met anyone outside of EDG who understands sign, and even his teammates haven’t mastered it yet. Except for Tian Ye, of course—he’s the one teaching them. Deokdam is the first person outside of his teammates that can understand him. The first person that can make Dohyeon feel just a step closer to being normal. 

Just before they land, Dohyeon turns to look one last time at Deokdam—only to find him already staring back. The moment their eyes meet, Deokdam blinks and turns his head away. There goes any chance of them holding a conversation.

The Windfarers touch down on a wooden platform in front of the floating castle of Fae’lor. Dohyeon suspects that the platform might have been part of a bridge before ShowMaker ripped the entire fortress from the ground and into the air, but with half of it leading to nowhere, it’s more of a landing pad now. Dohyeon climbs off the Windfarer first before turning to help Tian Ye down. He probably doesn’t need any assistance, but Dohyeon doubts ShowMaker will bother catching him if he slips and falls off the edge.

Once they’ve all dismounted, Tian Ye turns to their Windfarer. “Stay here,” he says, reaching up to scratch behind its ears. The Windfarer purrs, blinking back at Tian Ye in what Dohyeon takes to be agreement. Tian Ye repeats the process with the second Windfarer, since it doesn’t seem fully convinced by Yechan’s attempts. 

ShowMaker leads them inside the castle, where Kellin and Canyon begin to heal their teammates’ wounds. Dohyeon glances at Tian Ye and can’t find it in himself to be surprised when he doesn’t offer to help. He doubts Damwon would let him, anyway. 

“Try anything, and I will bring this castle down on you,” ShowMaker warns them as EDG find spots to lean against the wall, not daring to sit down on any of the benches. The floor shakes underneath their feet, emphasizing the threat.

“After you just redecorated from last time?” Yechan snorts, earning himself a glare. 

They fall into a silence Dohyeon can only describe as icy, with ShowMaker turning his attention to his teammates and EDG exchanging looks. Without anything better to do, Dohyeon alternates between watching Tian Ye summon a flame to dance across his fingertips and Deokdam, who sits down on a plush couch once his wounds are healed.

“The scroll will have to be translated,” ShowMaker says eventually. He doesn’t even bother to look in EDG’s direction as he speaks. “Canyon and I will bring it to the scholars at the Placidium.”

After a long pause, Yechan speaks up. “We can help, if—”

“It doesn’t take five people to go to a library,” ShowMaker interrupts. “You’re free to return to the Abyss. We’ll send a message if you’re needed.”

Dohyeon wouldn’t mind leaving now, but Yechan has other ideas. “We’re supposed to work together,” he protests. 

ShowMaker does look at him then, his gaze flint-sharp with poorly concealed anger. “I agreed to help stop the Demon King. That does not mean that we have to tolerate the five of you any more than is necessary.”

Yechan crosses his arms, a frustrated noise escaping him. “We don’t have time for petty grudges.”

“Petty grudges?” Nuguri repeats before Yechan can continue. The guardian stands from his chair, his hands curling into fists. “You really think our issues with you can be summed up as a petty grudge? Do you have any idea how much damage you’ve caused? How many lives you’ve ruined? How many of my friends are dead because of you?”

That, at least, gets Tian Ye’s attention. “As if you know either,” he snaps. “I’m surprised you know what’s happening in Ionia at all considering how much time you spend up here in your little palace. Tell me, do you ever come to help without question, or do you always wait for someone to beg?”

“You can hardly talk,” Nuguri retorts. “At least we respond to distress calls. The last I heard, no one was even allowed near the Abyss.”

“Except you don’t respond,” someone else interjects, and Dohyeon is surprised to find Lijie stepping forward. Even from halfway across the room, Dohyeon can see how Lijie trembles under Damwon’s combined gazes, but he’s not sure it’s entirely from nervousness considering how much venom fills his voice. “You want to talk about damage caused? The village in Lhradi Forest was annihilated, guardians included. I spent two days counting and burying the dead. CoreJJ told me they sent a messenger to you the second the Demon King attacked. You could have come to help at any time. So where were you?”

Even the members of Damwon seem stunned into silence. Dohyeon stares at Lijie in horror. He’d known that Lijie had stayed behind in Lhradi Forest to help recover the bodies, but Lijie hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary when he returned, and Dohyeon hadn’t stopped to think about what kind of effect that might have had on him. For Dohyeon, a field of bodies might have been nothing. For Tian Ye, a burned village might not be worth mentioning. But for Lijie—Lijie, their youngest, who was imprisoned in the Abyss at seventeen, who cried after he stabbed Wei through the heart, who was the only one of them who had actually thought to answer Jihoon’s plea for help… Dohyeon knows Lijie is far from innocent, but that doesn’t mean he walked away from that massacre unaffected.

“Zhao Lijie,” Yechan begins, voice soft. 

“Don’t,” Lijie mutters. Yechan tries to reach for him, but Lijie brushes his hand off.

“What happened to SSG’s village was unavoidable,” ShowMaker says, having recovered from his shock. “We never would have made it in time to help.”

Lijie takes another step forward, his hand drifting towards the sword hanging from his belt. “You don’t know that,” he hisses. “You didn’t even try.”

“It’s not that simple,” ShowMaker snaps. Dark orbs begin to appear behind him, causing Canyon to suck in a breath. “Ever since you and your friends broke out of the Howling Abyss, guardians and heroes alike have had their hands full dealing with the hundreds of criminals that escaped along with you. We had to weigh SSG’s request against a dozen others from villages without their own guardians to protect them. Forgive me for believing that the greatest guardians in history would be capable of holding their own—perhaps they would have been, if someone hadn’t slaughtered half of their village’s best warriors!”

“And if that same someone hadn’t murdered RNG and half of FPX, maybe they could have come to help,” Nuguri adds, not-so-subtly reaching for a shuriken as he moves to ShowMaker’s side. “You were the ones who set the stage for this.”

Tian Ye laughs, the icy sound echoing through the room. “RNG would have been as likely to roll over and bow to the Demon King as they would have been to help. They had it coming, and so did FPX.”

Nuguri snarls, and in the blink of an eye, there’s a shuriken in his hand, crackling with electricity. “I suppose that’s your excuse for everyone. RNG, Invictus, FPX, Khan, Yongjun—they just had it coming, didn’t they?”

Dohyeon’s feet move before his mind even catches up, placing him firmly between Nuguri and Tian Ye. ShowMaker’s threat still hangs heavy in the back of his mind, but Dohyeon summons a moonlight chakram anyway. He raises it in a clear warning: Touch a hair on Tian Ye’s head, and I’ll slit your throat.

Nuguri’s eyes narrow into slits, and for a moment, he seems so tense that Dohyeon isn’t sure if he’s going to attack or not. Finally, he lowers his shuriken, and the current running across the metal stops. He fixes Tian Ye with a fierce glare. “Call your guard dog off.”

Guard dog? Dohyeon thinks. Only when Tian Ye turns his head in his direction does Dohyeon realize who Nuguri’s referring to.

“Stand down, Viper,” Tian Ye says, light as a feather. Dohyeon winces at the sound of that name on Tian Ye’s lips, but he obeys the command anyway, letting his weapon dissolve back into light.

Yechan chooses that moment to approach the members of Damwon, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “I think we all just need to—”

ShowMaker hurls him into a wall with his magic before he can even finish his sentence. Yechan’s head hits the stone bricks with a sick crack, and Dohyeon feels his heart skip a beat when his teammate drops to the ground, unmoving.

Lijie turns to look at Yechan, his eyes wide with panic. “Chan-ge!” he cries. For a moment, he seems split between running to his side and charging Damwon. Then, just as Dohyeon’s starting to hope that this whole confrontation might be avoidable, Lijie grits his teeth and puts a hand on his sword’s hilt. 

“Go on,” ShowMaker sneers. “Try it. See what happens.”

“Don’t,” Dohyeon signs, but no one’s looking at him. No one except for Deokdam, who’s still seated on the couch. Their eyes meet, and Dohyeon feels his heart sink. He doesn’t want to fight Deokdam. He doesn’t want to fight Damwon at all. 

Just as Lijie’s fingers tighten around his sword, someone runs between him and ShowMaker, throwing their arms out. Dohyeon barely manages to shield his face before a blast of wind throws him backwards towards the wall. Between his raised arms, he can see Kellin hovering in the middle of the room, his arms still extended to push not just EDG away, but his own teammates too. As the wind howls around them, Yechan groans, managing to push himself up. 

“That’s enough!” Kellin shouts over the wind. “Arguing will get us nowhere. We’ve all made mistakes, but we’re supposed to be working together now.” He turns his gaze to ShowMaker as the wind begins to die down. “Heo Su, this was your call.”

ShowMaker glares back at him, but miraculously, Kellin doesn’t waver. Much. He’s able to maintain eye contact until ShowMaker finally sighs, dipping his head. The spheres that had appeared behind him vanish one by one as he lets the breath out. 

Canyon speaks after a few seconds, and Dohyeon realizes with a start that this is the first time he’s heard him speak during this whole argument. “It’s late,” he says, keeping his voice soft as if trying not to spook a wild animal. Given the wary gaze he regards EDG with, Dohyeon thinks Canyon might prefer wild animals. “Why don’t we all just get some rest, and come back to this tomorrow when we’re all less… on edge.”

Dohyeon eyes Tian Ye, waiting for the verdict. There’s no telling what he’s thinking—Tian Ye was hard enough for Dohyeon to read before he lost his soul. Dohyeon turns to his other teammates instead. Xuanjun is already inching towards the exit, and Lijie is helping Yechan up with a murderous expression on his face. 

“Fine,” Tian Ye decides at last, and Dohyeon relaxes. Tian Ye gestures to their teammates, something almost dismissive to the gesture. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Yechan asks as he and Lijie start to walk over. “There’s no point in going all the way back to the Abyss if we’re just going to meet up again tomorrow.”

“You’re not staying here,” ShowMaker snaps. As if they’d want to stay here, where they could be crushed by the palace at any second. 

Nuguri nods. He’s no longer holding his shuriken, but his voice is just as sharp. “On that, we can agree.”

Yechan glances uneasily between Nuguri and ShowMaker as he suggests, “How about we stay somewhere below? Not directly below, obviously, but somewhere on the island?”

ShowMaker opens his mouth, but Canyon speaks before he can. “That’s fine,” he says. 

That’s about as good as they can get, so the members of EDG leave the castle before ShowMaker can change his mind. They ride the Windfarers down to the field beneath Fae’lor Castle and pick out a spot that’s decently far away. Xuanjun takes over from there, summoning roots from beneath the soil to form a roof to cover them. He finds some grass soft enough to sleep on and proceeds to grow it out until they have four makeshift beds. Four, not five, because they’re not stupid enough to sleep in enemy territory without someone on watch.

Once he’s done, Xuanjun flings himself onto the nearest grass bed. “That went well,” he says. “Our alliance lasted, what, an hour?”

“It’s not over,” Yechan insists as he takes the bed next to Xuanjun’s. He pulls his jacket off and bundles it up to form a cushion for his head. “They’re angry now, but they’ll come around. They won’t have any other choice but to work with us if they want to stand a chance against the Demon King.”

Tian Ye calls a flame to his hand, watching it flicker as it fights against the breeze. Behind the reflection of the fire in his glasses, his eyes are empty. “And what exactly do you think will happen once we’ve defeated him? Without a common enemy, what reason will we have to not rip each other apart?”

Yechan frowns, turning to stare up at the stars. “I… didn’t think of that.”

Unease prickles at Dohyeon. He hadn’t thought of that either. Although he’d like to believe that at least Deokdam and Kellin wouldn’t turn on them so easily, he doesn’t know them nearly well enough to make that judgment. ShowMaker seems like a fifty-fifty, and that’s only with Canyon there to hold him back. Nuguri, on the other hand, most definitely seems willing to jump them the second their alliance is over. He’d mentioned one of EDG’s victims by name, hadn’t he? 

Dohyeon raises his hand, letting the beads of his bracelet clink softly against one another to get his teammates’ attention. As they turn to look at him, he signs, “Who’s Yongjun?” 

A lot of things happen at once. Tian Ye snorts, mouth twisting into a cruel smile. Xuanjun curses under his breath. Yechan shrugs—and Lijie steps back, his face hardening. 

“I’ll take first watch,” Lijie says, voice flat. Before Dohyeon can ask him what he did wrong, Lijie’s turning on his heel and storming out of their makeshift shelter, leaving Dohyeon to stare at him as he goes. Dohyeon always takes first watch, and Yechan always takes second, since they function the best without sleep. After the day they’ve had, Dohyeon would have thought that Lijie would want to sleep as soon as possible. 

Yechan starts to sit up. “Zhao—”

“Don’t,” Xuanjun interrupts, having figured out his intentions. He glances at the entrance to their shelter. “I… whatever he’s going through, I don’t think talking to him right now will help.”

Half of Dohyeon’s teammates have already looked at him on instinct by the time he signs, “Well, if talking is too much, I could sign to him for a bit.” He’s pretty sure the joke stopped being funny months ago, but Yechan and Xuanjun each give him a pity laugh anyway.

Tian Ye is less amused. “To answer your question, Viper, Yongjun was Ghost’s real name. Remember him?” He raises his lantern, the green light inside seeming to flicker for a moment. 

“Don’t call me that,” Dohyeon signs instead of answering. He winces immediately after doing so, but it’s too late to take it back.

Tian Ye frowns. “Call you what, Viper? It’s your name.”

“Dohyeon is my name.”

“Does it matter?” Tian Ye scoffs, and Dohyeon feels a little part of him shrivel up and die. The Tian Ye he knew before they escaped the Abyss—the Tian Ye he fell in love with, and who loved him just as fiercely back—would have been overjoyed to hear that he knew his name. He would have murmured it between every kiss, would have traced the letters on his back, would have helped him pick a name sign immediately. 

This isn’t his Tian Ye, though. Not really. 

“Of course it matters,” Xuanjun snaps while Dohyeon fights the tears that start to well up in his eyes. “He’s not a random hero—he’s your boyfriend. Shouldn’t you call him by name?” Dohyeon gives Xuanjun a grateful glance, and Xuanjun nods in response. 

“Hm.” Tian Ye tilts his head, pretending to think. “I guess you’re right. Sorry, Dohyeon.” His tone is sweet enough, but there’s no real regret in it, only cold calculation. 

That doesn’t matter much to Dohyeon, though. At least he gets to hear his name in Tian Ye’s voice. He smiles at Tian Ye so that he knows he’s forgiven, then sits down on the nearest empty bed, patting the small space behind him in invitation. As Tian Ye curls up next to him, body heat warming Dohyeon even through the fabric of their clothes, he returns his thoughts to Yongjun—Ghost. He must have been close with Nuguri for the guardian to mention him like that. Although…

Dohyeon stares at Tian Ye’s lantern, watching the light within it pulse softly. He wonders if Nuguri knows just how close Ghost really is.

Chapter Text

Dohyeon wakes up to a hand shaking his shoulder. “Rise and shine, lovebirds,” Yechan sing-songs as he dodges a disgruntled swipe from Tian Ye. Satisfied now that the two of them are at least awake, Yechan moves on to nudging Xuanjun and Lijie. 

Dohyeon misses Tian Ye’s warmth the second he sits up, but he can’t exactly lie back down and cuddle with him for a little longer the way he would in the Abyss. Besides, as he steps out of the shelter Xuanjun grew for them, he finds that the temperature is already above what Dohyeon would consider to be the threshold of comfortable, even though the sun has barely risen above the horizon. It’s almost enough to make Dohyeon take off his jacket, but he knows doing so would only make him feel too exposed. The layers he wears serve as a barrier from the cold of Reykjavik, but they’ve also become a familiar, almost comforting weight. He could certainly use that right now, since it seems that EDG aren’t alone.

The five members of Damwon stare silently at Dohyeon, and he does his best not to fidget under their less-than-friendly gazes. He keeps his eyes trained on the grass in front of his feet, but even then, he can sense the contempt and disgust that practically radiates off the heroes. 

“Good fucking morning to you too,” Xuanjun mutters in Mandarin as he joins Dohyeon outside. Unlike Dohyeon, he seems unbothered when Damwon’s hostile gazes turn to him. Nuguri hisses something to his teammates—probably translating what Xuanjun said, if the way they glare at him is any indication. 

Dohyeon hears soft footsteps in the grass behind him and doesn’t have to look to know it’s Tian Ye walking up to stand by his side. Tian Ye leans against him, turning his hook over in his hands as he asks, “Something you want to say?”

“We’ll wait,” Nuguri grits out. He jerks his head towards the entrance to their shelter, where Yechan and Lijie are trudging out. 

Lijie hits his head on a root as he steps into the sunlight, eliciting a quiet snort from Yechan. Dohyeon would laugh too if they were in any other situation. Besides, he’d feel bad if he did, because—well, to put it nicely, Lijie kind of looks like shit. His glasses can’t hide the bags under his eyes, so dark Dohyeon can’t help but wonder how long Lijie kept watch for last night. Lijie squeezes in on Dohyeon’s other side, so Dohyeon reaches out and pats his shoulder, earning himself the slightest hint of a smile from Lijie.

Now that they’re all here, ShowMaker floats forward to address them. “My opinion on the matter has not changed. Canyon and I will go to the Placidium, and we will go alone. You should consider yourselves lucky to be allowed to leave this place alive.” Yechan opens his mouth to speak, but ShowMaker cuts him off. “If you still insist on helping, Canyon has suggested that you make yourselves useful and gather information elsewhere. We will be here at noon tomorrow to share our findings. Meet us or don’t—it’s of little consequence to me.”

Yechan sighs, but for once, he seems to know better than to push it. “Fine,” he says. “Any suggestions on where to start looking?”

Compared to ShowMaker and his undisguised hatred, Canyon seems almost shy when he speaks. “Gumayusi referenced summoning the others in order to free the Demon King in his monologue. Summoning a demon, especially one as powerful as Gumayusi, isn’t something you can do without the right preparations. Chances are that the Noxians have at least one or two other sites they’re preparing for rituals as we speak. If we can track them down and destroy them…”

“Then we can stop them from summoning a demon at all,” Yechan finishes. “Perfect.”

“In that case…” Tian Ye turns to Yechan. “What do you say to visiting an old friend of mine?” he asks in a familiar tone of voice that Dohyeon has learned means this is a euphemism for either sex or murder, but you won’t figure out which until we get there.

Yechan eyes him warily, probably recognizing the hidden meaning too. “Why not,” he decides eventually. 

“Who, exactly, is your old friend?” Nuguri interjects, voice laced with suspicion. 

“Easy, hero,” Tian Ye purrs. The way he says the word hero makes it sound like an insult. “No need to worry. Shi Senming’s in no state to help me betray you.”

Shi Senming. Dohyeon barely keeps the surprise from showing on his face. Unlike Yongjun, this name is familiar to him. Shi Senming—or Ming, as he was called—was the first person Tian Ye sought revenge on after their escape from the Abyss. He certainly isn’t a threat to Damwon, now that he and the rest of RNG are dead, but that doesn’t clear up the main source of Dohyeon’s confusion. Why would Tian Ye want to go back to Ralin, RNG’s former domain, when there’s nothing left there but burned skeletons and wilderness?

He feels stupid for thinking it almost immediately. No one in their right mind would bother going to Ralin, unless their name was Li Xuanjun and they wanted to gather some rare plants. Not that Xuanjun is in his right mind either. Abandoned and half-forgotten by Ionia, Ralin is an obvious choice of location for someone looking for a private place to summon a demon.

“Fine,” Nuguri says, seemingly having come to the same conclusion. “What about the rest of you?”

Tian Ye pouts in mock disappointment, and while Dohyeon still finds it cute, Nuguri doesn’t seem nearly as endeared. “You’re not going to tell us your travel plans?” 

“I’m not an idiot,” Nuguri scoffs. 

“Really? Could have fooled—“

Yechan claps a hand over Tian Ye’s mouth, ignoring the furious look he gets in response. “That’s fine! Perfect, even!”

It’s then that Dohyeon has an idea. He taps Lijie, waiting for him to turn to start signing. “Some of us should go back to Lhradi Forest. We needed to talk to CoreJJ and Ruler again anyway, and while we’re there, we can check for a ritual site too. If the Noxians are trying to summon the Demon King, they were probably involved in what happened to SSG.” Plus, while they’re there, he can try to find Jihoon again. His motivations are selfish, he knows, but his reasoning is solid enough.

Deokdam raises his hand before anyone even starts translating. “I’ll go with you,” he says. Kellin elbows him, and Deokdam elbows him right back. Dohyeon barely manages to keep himself from raising an eyebrow. That was… easier than expected, especially after the fight that nearly broke out last night. Dohyeon had fully expected for them to split themselves into groups composed entirely of only Damwon or EDG members. For Deokdam to volunteer to accompany him… Dohyeon doesn’t know what to make of it. Deokdam’s teammates appear similarly surprised, blinking at him with wide eyes. 

“Me too,” Lijie offers after a few seconds of stunned silence. Dohyeon isn’t sure if Lijie even caught everything he signed—there’s a good chance he just saw him spell out S-S-G and jumped on board. Either way, he doesn’t change his mind after Deokdam fully translates.

“Not to piggyback or anything, but me three,” Xuanjun says. “I’ve always wanted to check out the plants there.”

Dohyeon nods, but he’s more interested in how Deokdam reacts to the idea of not one, but three members of EDG coming with him. He glances at Deokdam, who is surprisingly more pink than he is pale at the moment. Dohyeon gives Deokdam a few seconds to voice any second thoughts he might be having, but nothing more comes out of his mouth. 

ShowMaker turns to Deokdam, speaking to him in hushed Korean. “Are you sure about this? If they turn on you, I might not be able to enter Lhradi Forest to rescue you.”

“Thanks for worrying,” Deokdam replies with a mischievous grin that Yechan would probably get killed for giving ShowMaker. He reaches up and gives ShowMaker’s shoulder a pat. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Like I trust your promises,” ShowMaker grumbles, but he averts his gaze and moves aside to allow Deokdam to step towards EDG. 

Tian Ye seems satisfied enough with their arrangements. “That settles it, then.” He takes a step closer to Dohyeon, standing on his tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Seriously?” Yechan asks when a few of the Damwon members shoot Dohyeon and Tian Ye dirty looks. He gets a few grumbles in response. 

The lingering feeling of Tian Ye’s lips on his own is enough to reassure Dohyeon as they begin to go their separate ways. EDG’s Windfarers are happy to see Tian Ye, as usual, and it’s no trouble for him and Yechan to climb onto one of them and take off towards Ralin. Canyon and ShowMaker fly after them, heading in the same general direction. Dohyeon watches both pairs go until they’re little more than specks in the sky.

“Hey.” Lijie nudges him, drawing his attention back to their own Windfarer. “We should probably get going before Nuguri changes his mind and electrocutes us.”

“About earlier,” Dohyeon signs in response. “Do you want to… talk about it?” He winces as he signs it. As if he’ll know how to handle the subject if Lijie actually accepts his offer.

Lijie makes a similar face, probably thinking the same thing. “I’m good,” he replies, but the way he says it is less than convincing. He glances at Deokdam and thinks for a moment. “How about you ride behind him, and Xuanjun and I ride behind you? That way, you’ll kind of be able to sign to him while we fly.”

Dohyeon checks to make sure Deokdam isn’t looking before he asks, “Was it that obvious I wanted to talk to him?”

“Not really,” Lijie shrugs. “But it was pretty obvious he wanted to talk to you.”

That’s true, Dohyeon supposes. Most people don’t just volunteer to go on a mission with someone who was their sworn enemy a day ago. Deokdam had been the only person out of the ten of them to choose to work with a non-teammate. Dohyeon waves his hand towards Deokdam, allowing the bracelet on his wrist to jingle so he can get his attention. Once Deokdam looks over, Dohyeon relays Lijie’s idea to him. 

Deokdam goes a little pink, but he nods and climbs up onto the Windfarer’s back. Dohyeon climbs on after him, wrapping his arms around his waist. It’s a little awkward considering Deokdam is a near-stranger, but this was bound to happen eventually now that they’re working together. 

It’s not perfect, but with his hands in Deokdam’s field of vision, Dohyeon can sign, “Comfortable?”

“Yeah,” Deokdam mumbles, which is apparently good enough for Lijie. He seats himself behind Xuanjun, then pats the Windfarer’s side.

“Lhradi Forest, please,” Lijie says. The Windfarer doesn’t protest, leaping off the platform and spreading its wings. 

The first few minutes of their journey are filled with an awkward silence, but Deokdam eventually breaks it by clearing his throat. “So… have you been to Lhradi Forest before, Viper?”

Something about the sound of his hero—well, maybe villain—name has a shiver going down Dohyeon’s spine. He doesn’t want to be referred to as Viper anymore, now that he actually remembers his name. “Dohyeon,” he spells out. “You can call me Dohyeon. And I don’t know if I’ve been before.”

“Call me Daegil, then,” Deokdam replies. Then he goes still. “What do you mean, you don’t know if you’ve been before?”

Dohyeon hesitates a moment before replying. “I don’t remember anything from before a few years ago. Whatever the Lunari did to give me my powers cost me both my voice and my memories.”

“The Lunari did that to you?” Daegil splutters.

“I was told that it was the price all warriors paid for the moon’s gifts. I believed that for years… until I heard about you.”

“You… heard about me?”

“From—“ Dohyeon almost forgets to spell out Tian Ye’s name, since Daegil won’t recognize his name sign. “He offered to kidnap you so I could take my revenge. I refused. Obviously.”

Xuanjun nudges him, leaning over to whisper in Mandarin, “Hey, maybe don’t tell him that.”

It’s a little too late for that, so Dohyeon has no choice but to wait to see Daegil’s reaction. After an agonizing few seconds, Daegil croaks out, “Thanks? For not letting him kidnap me?”

“You’re welcome,” Dohyeon responds, because he has no idea what else he can say in this situation. He twists around to look at Xuanjun and Lijie, but his teammates seem to be just as clueless as he is. Dohyeon sighs. Back to silence it is, then.

When they touch down in the charred remains of Lhradi Forest, their awkward atmosphere is forgotten in an instant. The air still smells of smoke, and when Dohyeon dismounts, he finds himself standing in a thick layer of ash. Daegil gapes at the ruined forest, taking a few tentative steps forward. Dohyeon follows after him, still half stunned. He’d listened to Lijie’s descriptions, of course, but none of them could have done justice to the sheer scale of the devastation here.

Unlike them, Lijie acts relatively unbothered as he trudges through the unnaturally white and black landscape. Emphasis on acts and relatively, though, because he can’t quite disguise the haunted look in his eyes. “The Demon King appeared somewhere back there,” he says, pointing behind Dohyeon and Daegil. “Or at least I assume he did. That’s where Ambition’s body was, and he was the furthest out by far.”

Dohyeon nods. He starts walking in the direction Lijie points, but stops after a few steps when he notices one key detail. “You’re not coming with us?” he signs to Lijie and Xuanjun. 

“I’m going to tell CoreJJ we’re here,” Lijie says with a shrug. “I’ll come find you after.” By the time Dohyeon manages to nod again, Lijie has already turned and started heading towards the village. 

“And I’ll go find some plants. Scream if you need me.” Xuanjun gives him a thumbs-up, then hurries after Lijie. Dohyeon would be nervous about being abandoned with Daegil if it wasn’t exactly what he was hoping for. 

Daegil appears at Dohyeon’s side, pulling a folded-up piece of paper out of his pocket. He unfolds it to reveal the drawing he’d made earlier depicting half of the ritual circle from Galrin. “Let’s go,” he says softly.

Dohyeon summons his scythe pistol, then follows after Daegil. As they walk, Dohyeon keeps a wary eye on the forest around him. Every time the bushes rustle or a stick cracks, his fingers twitch around his weapon. Unease begins to gnaw at him, growing with each step he takes. Normally, his footsteps would be perfectly silent, fitting for an assassin. He’s used to the smooth stone bricks of the Abyss and more barren, rocky terrain. But with scorched wood and ashes everywhere under his feet and his attention divided between so many potential threats, he can’t move nearly as stealthily as he’s used to. Here, where the forest is wild and alive, even after a devastating fire, Dohyeon is decidedly out of his element.

Daegil seems to be similarly uncomfortable, albeit for a different reason. “My older siblings loved scaring me with stories about this place,” he mumbles as they walk. “They said that the deeper you go into the forest, the more likely you are to disappear forever. You’ll be lucky if your family finds so much as your skeleton.”

It’s a little harder to sign with one hand on his gun, but Dohyeon makes it work. “Do you really believe that?”

Daegil ducks his head, looking the slightest bit embarrassed. “It sounds crazy, but we do get a lot of missing persons reports related to this forest.” 

“And do you find skeletons?”

“We don’t actually deal with most problems in Qaelin,” Daegil replies. “That’s more SSG’s area. Geonbu—Canyon—is at least distantly related to the Vastaya, so he’s free to come and go as he pleases, but the rest of us steer clear. The people of Lhradi Forest tend to believe that humans should keep to the mainland and the other islands.”

Dohyeon nods. That, at least, is common knowledge. “Let’s not linger, then. Much.”

“Much?” Daegil frowns.

Dohyeon goes to explain—then hesitates. As familiar as Daegil feels, they only met yesterday, and Dohyeon gets the feeling that Daegil will choose Damwon over him in a heartbeat. He isn’t particularly bothered by that fact, since he’d do the same for EDG, but it does mean that Dohyeon shouldn’t be so quick to trust him. 

In the end, Dohyeon settles for a half-truth. “There’s someone else I’d like to talk to while we’re here. He might know something.” 

“Okay,” Daegil says. He eyes a suspiciously twitching bush, relaxing when it returns to relative stillness. “What’s his name?”

“Jihoon,” Dohyeon spells out. “Hero name Chovy.”

Daegil blinks. “You know Chovy?”

I used to. “We’re friends,” Dohyeon signs, and leaves it at that. 

After a few more minutes of walking, the ashen remains of trees cut off abruptly. Beyond them, Dohyeon can see patterns burned into the soil and ash, partially obscured by dried splatters of blood. There’s a strange energy in the air, one that Dohyeon instinctively wants to turn and run from. He exchanges glances with Daegil, and on some unspoken agreement, they step past the shelter of the trees and into the clearing together. 

Dohyeon doesn’t have to reference the drawing in Daegil’s hands to know without a doubt that this is where the Demon King was summoned. That much is clear from the lingering echoes of the power that turned the area around them to ash, a constant buzz in the back of Dohyeon’s mind that he knows will turn into a bad headache if he stays too long. He stops walking to scan the patterns in the dirt. Although they somewhat resemble the ones in the drawing, the patterns at Dohyeon’s feet seem a million times more complex. 

“I don’t know if I have it in me to copy these,” Daegil mumbles, gesturing to the ground. Dohyeon lets out an amused little huff of air in response, which is as close as he can really get to a laugh. 

“That’s probably fine,” Dohyeon signs. “Just seeing this confirms our suspicions. The Noxians, or whatever group was responsible for summoning Gumayusi, were involved here too.”

“Great,” Daegil says. “The only thing worse than a cult: an organized cult.”

Again, Dohyeon huff-laughs. He starts to reply, but halfway through his sentence, Daegil’s eyes move from his hands to something over his shoulder. Dohyeon’s blood runs cold, and he stiffens up as someone speaks behind him. “Drop your weapon and turn around.”

That voice. Dohyeon suddenly feels dizzy. He doesn’t stop to think as he lets his scythe pistol fizzle out into nothingness and twists around to face the newcomer. I know that voice.

Dohyeon is met by a man with bunny ears, wide brown eyes, and most importantly, a stick pointed threateningly at him. A wand, then, unless this is a really good bluff. Dohyeon’s heart does a funny little jump, similar to what it did when he first saw Jihoon in the Howling Abyss. 

The man in front of him gasps, his eyes alight with equal parts shock and disbelief. Rabbit ears standing fully on end, he lowers his wand a fraction and asks, “Do—Viper?” 

He can’t say Dohyeon’s name, not without his permission. Dohyeon isn’t entirely sure how the magic behind a guardian’s name works, or if what he’s about to do will help, but he raises his hands and signs, “You can call me by my name.” Then, since he doesn’t particularly want to be called Viper by anyone, he adds, “Everyone can.”

“Sorry,” Daegil blurts when the man only stares at Dohyeon’s hands in confusion. He hurries forward to stand next to Dohyeon, ready to interpret whatever he signs next. “Dohyeon doesn’t talk. Um, I’m Seo Daegil, hero name Deokdam. I’m from Damwon, and he’s—”

“He’s from EDG,” finishes another voice, and Dohyeon can’t pretend not to be relieved when he recognizes it as Jihoon’s, even though his tone isn’t exactly friendly. Jihoon steps out from the treeline, crossing his arms as he fixes Dohyeon with a glare. “When Yongin hyung told me we had guests, I was really hoping it wasn’t you.”

Jihoon’s close to CoreJJ, Dohyeon notes. He must be, for the guardian to allow Jihoon to speak his name. Speaking of being close to someone—Dohyeon looks back at the man with the rabbit ears, doubtlessly some kind of Vastaya. Could he be one of the teammates Jihoon had mentioned them knowing when they were together on Griffin?

“Wait.” The rabbit Vastaya turns to Jihoon. “You knew he was alive? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I—” Jihoon’s gaze softens for a second as he looks at the Vastaya, but when he turns to Dohyeon again, his eyes are as furious as ever. “What does it matter? He’s not our Dohyeon anymore—he’s a murderer. A monster.”

It’s far from the first time Dohyeon’s been called such a thing, but hearing it from Jihoon, someone he used to be friends with, hurts. The worst part is that Dohyeon can’t even disagree. The things he’s done, the people he’s hurt on behalf of both the Lunari and EDG… Dohyeon wouldn’t forgive himself either. 

Yet another strangely familiar face joins them as a man literally drops out of the branches of a tree to stand next to Jihoon. “You’re one to talk, Jihoon,” he says as he straightens himself out, the spider-like appendages on his back stretching unnaturally. He shoots Dohyeon a grin, but there’s something forced about it. “Good to see you again.”

Unsure of how to respond, Dohyeon finds himself floundering. Daegil, moon bless him, puts the pieces together fairly quickly and explains, “I don’t know if he remembers you. He, um—he lost a lot of his memories.”

“You don’t?” the man with bunny ears asks, his face falling. He thinks for a second, then stands up straighter and holds out a hand. “I’m Choi Hyunjoon, or Doran. We used to be teammates.”

Hyunjoon. Dohyeon remembers Jihoon mentioning his name in the Abyss. If this is Hyunjoon, then the other man must be…

“Son Siwoo, hero name Lehends. Also your ex.” Dohyeon blinks—did he date half his team? Seeing his expression, Siwoo snorts and finishes, “Teammate.”

“I remember you. Sort of.” It’s just flashes of memories, really, but Dohyeon remembers their smiles. He’s willing to bet that if they were to get into a fight right now, his body would instinctively know their combat styles. Jihoon rolls his eyes when Daegil passes Dohyeon’s words on to them, but the other two are more forgiving.

“Glad I could make an impression,” Siwoo winks. His eyes dart to Jihoon, then very deliberately move back to Dohyeon, as if to say, can you believe this guy?  “Speaking of impressions, sorry about Jihoon. He’s not over you.”

“What’s there to be over?” Jihoon mutters as he glares into the dirt. 

Hyunjoon’s rabbit ears twitch back, and he scowls at his teammate. “Seriously, Jihoon? Don’t act like you don’t know him when we tried to find him for almost two years!”

“So I should be happy that he’s back, even though he killed our friends?”

“No! I just—how long have you known? You could have at least told us.”

“I found out when I ran to Reykjavik and he and his new boyfriend decided not to help us. Sorry for having other things on my mind then, Hyunjoon!” Jihoon throws his hands up in exasperation, Hyunjoon wincing at the reminder of the disaster that befell their forest. They stare each other down for a few seconds until Hyunjoon lets out a disgusted hiss and spins on his heel, turning his back to Jihoon.

Siwoo raises an eyebrow. “You have a boyfriend?”

“Meiko,” Jihoon spits.

It’s subtle, but Dohyeon doesn’t miss how Siwoo’s expression hardens. They might be happy to see him alive and well at the very least, he still has crimes to answer for. Siwoo clears his throat, and when he speaks, his tone is strictly business. “...Anyway, CoreJJ sent us to find you. He wants to talk to you and your other teammates together.”

“Oh. Lead the way, then.” Daegil translates for him, then adds, “What about them?” He gestures towards Jihoon and Hyunjoon, who stay practically frozen in place when Siwoo starts to walk.

“Oh, let them argue,” Siwoo says, waving a hand as he leads them back the way they came. “They’ll kiss and make out eventually no matter what.” Even though he doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to where he puts his feet, his steps are feather-light, rarely disturbing the forest floor. 

Dohyeon stares rather obviously at Siwoo’s back as they walk. He gets the feeling Jihoon isn’t interested in answering any more of his questions, so Siwoo might be his best bet if he wants to learn anything. He taps Daegil, then signs, “Can you tell me more about Griffin?”

Siwoo glances back, an undecipherable expression on his face. “You forgot all of that?” It’s a rhetorical question, but Dohyeon nods anyway. Siwoo slows his pace to walk beside him as he explains. “We started out as a bunch of nobodies, but as a hero team, we were good. Really good. We were even considered by SSG to be the next guardians—we were eliminated pretty quickly, but that was a real honor considering that we’d barely started to fight together. 

“By the time Hyunjoon joined, Invictus were the new guardians of Ionia. We trained more against SSG, banished some minor demons and protected the land against threats, the standard. But then… There was a disagreement. Our sponsor, Kim Daeho, left us. You weren’t sad to see him go back then, not after how he treated Jinhyuk and Sungwon, but Jihoon… he didn’t take it nearly as well.

“Still, we’d come too far in such a short time to give up just because our sponsor was gone. We challenged Invictus, hoping to be the next to ascend Mount Targon—and lost horribly. That was the final straw. Jihoon, Hyunjoon and I left, while you stayed with Sungwon and Seungyong. 

“Not to sound narcissistic, but Griffin wasn’t the same without us three. You guys did your best, but the team never recovered, and just before summer started, you and Seungyong finally left. You joined me on Hanwha—CuVee and Haru were actually some of our teammates—but we were terrible too. Once Sungwon died, you said your goodbyes to me for the second time. That was the last we heard from you.

“Then there was EDG. When they—you escaped, we started hearing about a Viper. We didn’t dare to hope it could be you at first, and by the time we started coming to terms with it, we didn’t want to believe it anymore. Jihoon insisted it couldn’t be you, denied it until the day he saw you again in the Abyss, but I think the rest of us knew. I did, at least. When Damwon fell and Jaehyuk contacted me, I tried to say your name, and I choked on the word. That was how I knew you were a guardian.”

Dohyeon stares miserably at Siwoo, eyes stinging with tears. After they’d shared all that history, Dohyeon had repaid him by killing some of their teammates and ignoring SSG’s distress call. Suddenly, Jihoon’s animosity makes perfect sense, and Dohyeon has to question how Hyunjoon and Siwoo can even stand to look him in the eyes, especially when Siwoo knows the extent of what he’s done. “I’m sorry,” he signs, wishing with all his heart he had the voice to say it out loud. 

The smile he gets in return, bitter and resigned, is the most honest expression he’s seen on Siwoo’s face this entire conversation. After a long pause, Siwoo simply says, “It doesn’t matter.”

They’re silent for the rest of the walk. Finally, Siwoo stops them in front of a surprisingly intact hut, the only thing that seems to have been spared from the destruction in what is otherwise a destroyed ghost town. Dohyeon can make out the sound of hushed whispers inside the hut, but the vines draped over the entrance keep him from seeing inside. Siwoo knocks on the wall next to the doorway. “I’m back.”

A hand reaches out from inside to part the vines, and CoreJJ steps halfway out of the hut, regarding Dohyeon and Daegil with an impossibly weary gaze. “Come in,” he says after a long pause. “We have a lot to talk about.”

Chapter Text

Even after four years with Heo Su, Geonbu still isn’t used to flying. Whether in human or lion form, looking down at the ground far below never fails to make his stomach lurch with dread. He trusts Heo Su with his life, of course, but every time he sits on top of an object for Heo Su to levitate along with himself, he feels a pinprick of worry. If Su loses his concentration in midair, or if they’re attacked, Geonbu will plummet out of the sky. Cats always land on their feet, but even he doesn’t think he can survive terminal velocity. 

It’s funny, Geonbu supposes, that he’s so afraid of heights when his best friend is Su, who rarely even allows his feet to touch the ground. In exchange, Su despises bodies of water larger than a puddle. Maybe it says something about them, the way the things they fear most are in the other’s control. Geonbu used to think almost fondly of that fact before the Howling Abyss, where he learned to fear his own power too. 

Luckily, the flight to Navori isn’t nearly as long as some of the other trips they’ve made recently. Heo Su dips beneath the clouds, revealing the colorful plant life and twisting, rocky terrain that surrounds the Navori Placidium. Geonbu holds onto his stone seat for dear life as they descend, thankful that Heo Su is so easy to stare at instead of the ground. 

They touch down, and Geonbu stands up on ever-so-slightly shaky legs. He’s so used to carrying his spear around that it feels almost wrong to be empty-handed, but he has to be if they want to be allowed into the Placidium. 

“Ready?” Heo Su asks. Geonbu takes a deep breath, then nods. 

The short walk to the center of the Placidium is silent. A few passing scholars and attendants turn and openly gawk at the two of them, and although Geonbu’s sure they want to whisper among themselves, they at least have the decency to wait until they’re out of earshot. Geonbu keeps his gaze ahead, trying to ignore the onlookers’ stares. 

When they reach Invictus’s thrones, only half of them are occupied. Rookie stands to greet them, while Baolan and Duke stay seated. None of them give any indication that they’re surprised Geonbu and Heo Su are here. “Welcome to the Navori Placidium, honored guests.”

It takes Geonbu a moment to remember the proper greeting. “Song Euijin, Master of Illusions, it is your presence that honors us.” He bows low.

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” Rookie says breezily, waving his hand before Geonbu can address the other two members of Invictus. “We’re equals here.” Never mind that he could have cut Geonbu off at any time during his stiff response.

Heat creeps up Geonbu’s neck, and he just prays it doesn’t show in his face. “Okay.”

“Great,” Rookie says with a practiced smile. “Then we’ll get right to business. I assume you’re here for Demon King-related reasons?”

“We believe so,” Heo Su replies smoothly. The scroll in his hands glows a soft purple under the influence of his power as he directs it to float over to Rookie. Once the scroll is in Rookie’s grasp, he continues on, leaving out any mention of EDG from his explanation. “Last night, we received a distress call from the people of Pallas, citing an unwelcome Noxian occupation. When we arrived there, we came across a large group of Noxian soldiers, along with a demon who claimed to be one of the Demon King’s… underlings. After defeating him, we searched the Noxian camp and found this.”

Rookie takes in the broken seal before unfurling the scroll, eyes scanning across it. Almost immediately, his eyebrow shoots up and his mouth twists into a frown. “This isn’t any common Noxian script. You really just found this lying around?”

“It was in the leader’s tent,” Geonbu replies.

A nod. “I assume neither you nor your allies can read it.”

“We hoped that there would be someone here who could,” Su confirms. 

“You’re in luck, then,” Rookie says with a distinctly satisfied air. “It just so happens that I can read it. Unfortunately…” He squints at the scroll. “It’s coded. I don’t know if they’re using any of the standard ciphers, but I doubt they are. This might take me a few days to crack.”

Geonbu has to resist the urge to slump in relief. “That’s better than we could do,” he admits. “You’re welcome to hold onto that. If you’re willing, could you translate that and let us know what it says once you’re done?”

“Of course.” Rookie lets the scroll curl back up. “I’ll come find you in Fae’lor.”

“Thank you,” Geonbu begins to say, but Heo Su speaks over him. 

“What do we owe you?”

Rookie blinks, then smiles innocently. “Can’t we just call this a favor between guardians? No debts necessary.”

Heo Su’s eyes narrow. “You truly expect us to believe you want nothing in exchange?”

“Is that really so hard to imagine?” Rookie scoffs. “Besides, if this will help Ionia, I’m happy to do it.”

It’s clear that Heo Su wants to say more, but it’s Geonbu’s turn to talk over him. “Thank you, really,” he says, dipping into a respectful bow. 

“While you’re here, though…” Rookie trails off, giving time for Su to inhale sharply. “You need all the information you can get about the Demon King, right? With a primary source sitting in front of you, surely you have the time to stay and hear what he has to say.” He gestures to Duke.

Duke offers them a slight inclination of his head. “As ashamed as I am to admit it, I was once one of Faker’s allies. I was not there to witness his fall, but perhaps my side of the story will be helpful to you.”

Su glances at Geonbu with an unspoken question in his eyes. Geonbu nods his agreement, so Su turns back to Invictus and says, “We have time. Tell us everything you know of the Demon King.”

Duke takes a deep breath and clears his throat before he begins his tale. “Most will say that the Demon King’s origin is a mystery, the information lost to time. I cannot pretend to know otherwise—in the time we spent together, Faker and I were never close enough to discuss such matters. 

“What I do know is this: at the beginning of the Demon King’s reign, he had four loyal allies: Impact, Piglet, PoohManDu and his general, Bengi. They were devastatingly powerful in their own rights, but of course none could match him. Together, they were unstoppable. Without guardians, Ionia stood no chance against them. 

“I, like many others, was drawn to the Demon King by the promise of power. By the time I joined, Piglet and PoohManDu had vanished, and Impact left for Shurima. Bengi alone remained by his side, welcoming me to his inner circle along with a hunter known as Bang and a Vastayan warrior called Wolf. 

“After a few years of serving him, I became disillusioned with the Demon King’s treatment of his subjects. Though I now knew he was more monster than man, I still feared his power far too much to make a stand. I took off alone in the middle of the night and fled to Piltover, where I stayed until I learned of the Demon King’s defeat.

“When I returned to Ionia, I found Bang and Wolf preparing to leave just like I had. They told me that Bengi had been defeated not long after I fled, and the Demon King had gone almost mad with grief.”

“His general, defeated?” Heo Su repeats. “How?”

—

“As I’m sure you will have been told, every being has its weaknesses. Humans require air, sustenance, sleep and companionship. Demons need none of those. In exchange, every demon has one single weakness that, when turned against them, is their undoing.” CoreJJ holds up a painted scroll, the cracks across its surface betraying its age. The painting depicts a man with horns growing from his head and a mischievous smile on his lips. 

“Is that him?” Xuanjun barely dares to ask. “The Demon King?”

CoreJJ shakes his head. “This is Bengi, the king’s right hand. With Bengi at his side, Faker could have easily ruled for another three centuries. 

“Even when we were young and naive, we knew better than to think we could defeat the two of them together. Ambition—“ his voice cracks on the name of his fallen friend, but he does an admirable job of pulling himself together before he can dwell on his grief. “Ambition suggested that we find a way to eliminate Bengi before moving on to the Demon King.

“At first, such a task seemed impossible. Whenever Bengi went into battle, he would return perfectly unscathed, no matter how skilled their opponents were. Arrows shattered against his skin and the strongest clubs did not so much as bruise him. He was well and truly invincible, especially with his allies at his side.

“But then Minho came to a realization: unlike the rest of the Demon King’s inner circle, Bengi never went into battle alone. We found a single record from the beginning of the Demon King’s reign that described what might have been his only time fighting without someone at his side—and he lost. 

“We had no way of knowing for sure, but we decided to take a chance and trust Minho’s theory. After months of preparation, we gathered in an area far from the Demon King’s palace and did something that could have backfired horribly: we summoned Bengi ourselves.”

“You isolated him,” Lijie gasps. 

CoreJJ nods. “To this day, a part of me still can’t believe it worked. It went even better than we expected, actually. When Bengi appeared in our summoning circle, he was nearly powerless. We’d prepared for the battle of our lives, but with all of us against him, he was almost trivially easy to defeat. The Demon King found us within minutes, but by then, it was too late. Bengi was already dead, his being reduced to near-nothingness. It would take him millennia to be able to form a physical body again. We scattered, and the Demon King chose to chase Wraith. Although Faker managed to catch up with him, his sacrifice allowed the rest of us to escape to fight another day, all while dealing a major blow to the Demon King.”

—

“For a long time, I believed that if there was any being to truly have no weakness, it would be the Demon King,” Duke recalls. “But that changed when SSG slew Bengi. The loss dealt an unimaginable blow to his pride, and he sought vengeance all across Ionia, leaving only ash in his wake. Previously, the Demon King’s actions were meticulously calculated. After Bengi, he was far more reckless, far more brutal. Many left Ionia entirely, and most of those who remained sought to join him in order to escape his wrath. In the end, I believe that was his weakness—powerful as he was, the Demon King still fell victim to the sins of man.

“I did, however, hear another theory, one which I can neither confirm nor deny. They say that the Demon King’s weakness was something else he kept closely guarded, and that in the end, it wasn’t SSG that found it. They say it was someone else. They say… the Demon King was betrayed.”

—

“The stories are true. We had greatly weakened the Demon King by slaying Bengi, but we still could not defeat him without help. You might call it luck that we found the perfect traitor not long after. He handed us the Demon King’s weakness on a silver platter and even lured him to the place where we would eventually defeat him.” 

“If there was really a traitor,” Xuanjun frowns, “why haven’t we heard of him? Even if he’s dead, he should be as famous as the rest of SSG.”

“Perhaps he should be,” CoreJJ allows. “But he wanted no part in our role as guardians. Besides, with him known as a former ally of the Demon King, he would be a prime target for any of his remaining supporters. He never strayed far from our sides, though, choosing to spend most of the next three centuries hiding here in this very forest.”

“He’s still alive?” Daegil interjects. “If he’s not a guardian, then who—“

“Me, of course.”

A chill runs down Xuanjun’s spine as he spins to see the person making their way through the vine-covered entrance of their hut. Lijie and Daegil both inhale sharply at the sight of a man wrapped almost entirely in bandages, yellow eyes glowing unnaturally in the relative dark of the hut. 

“Wangho hyung?” Daegil blurts. 

Wangho gives him a wry smile as he navigates around them to sit next to CoreJJ, but there’s something undeniably sad about his eyes. “I never wanted you to know,” he says. “I never wanted you to need to know.”

Dohyeon taps Daegil to get his attention, hands moving quickly as he signs. “Who is he?”

It’s Lijie who answers, although Xuanjun thinks he sees Daegil signing something similar at the same time. He isn’t good enough at Ionian sign—or multitasking—to be sure. “Han Wangho, hero name Peanut. He’s a member of Gen.G. You’re the traitor?”

The strangely humorless smirk never leaves Wangho’s face as he explains, “I first encountered the Demon King by chance. I thought he would kill me on the spot, but he… took a liking to me, in a sense. We became very close, and eventually, he told me his name.”

“As one of the most ancient evils, the Demon King’s weakness was something as simple as his name.” CoreJJ adds. “Once we had that, we had everything we needed to banish him.”

“So… all we need to do is have you tell us his name, and then we’ll be able to stop him again?” Lijie tilts his head, brow furrowed. “It can’t be that easy.”

“It isn’t,” CoreJJ agrees. “Similar to that of a guardian, his true name has power. It cannot be spoken by just anyone—in fact, it cannot be remembered even by guardians. Due to what he is and what he’s done, the Demon King’s true name can only be learned by a heart that holds no fear of him.”

Wangho nods. “Although I knew it, I refused to use it myself. I told SSG that if they could find someone else worthy of knowing Faker’s name, I would tell them.”

“We searched far and wide, but to find a being without fear of the Demon King was no easy task. Courage was not enough—in the face of Faker’s might, anyone would fear for their life or the lives of their loved ones. It was instinctual, irrational.” Pain burns bright and fierce in CoreJJ’s eyes. “And so, after our efforts bore no fruit, Minho took it upon himself to empty his heart of fear. To do so, he had to reduce himself to a state practically beyond human consciousness, where nothing, not even his own life, mattered to him anymore.

“Carrying the burden of the Demon King’s name took an incredible toll on Minho. He was able to use it to secure us our victory, but there was no coming back from the place he had gone to do it. Even three hundred years later, he had not fully recovered. What he did regain, though, was fear: a fear of ever having to sacrifice so much to face the Demon King again. The king’s name became lost to him. Had he somehow put himself back in that state of absolute apathy, he might have been able to use the Demon King’s name against him once again. But in the minutes between Faker’s return and the end of Minho’s life, he had no chance of recovering it. He died, taking the knowledge with him.”

Xuanjun bows his head for a few seconds, the others doing the same in honor of the fallen guardian. For a moment, it seems as if no one is willing to break the silence.

Dohyeon doesn’t make noise, but he signs, “I assume Peanut can’t remember it either?”

Shaking his head, Wangho replies, “When Faker found out that I betrayed him, I fell victim to his final act of wrath. As he was banished, he placed a curse on me.

“At first, he simply wanted me to suffer like he would, meeting a miserable end. But then he thought better of it. Instead, he cursed me so that I would never be able to be close to someone again. Now, I can’t so much as touch a living being with my bare skin, or they’ll turn to dust. That, plus the centuries I have spent watching others wither away, has ensured that I will never be able to remember Faker’s name again.”

Silence again. Then Daegil asks, “So that’s—“

“Why I wear the bandages, yes.”

Lijie speaks next. “And that’s how—“

“How I got rid of Yongin hyung and Jaehyuk’s severed wings,” Wangho confirms. “However, had those wings still been attached to their bodies, my touch wouldn’t have harmed them. For whatever reason, my curse doesn’t work on guardians.”

“But could it work on the Demon King?” Xuanjun asks hopefully.

“I doubt it, but I don’t know for sure. Jaehyuk…” Wangho closes his eyes and takes a long, shaky breath. “The moment we received word that Faker had returned, Jaehyuk forbade me from facing him. He knew that if we were to meet again, the first curse Faker placed on me would have looked like mercy. And so, although there might have been a chance of sacrificing me to distract the Demon King, Jaehyuk ordered me to flee. And like a coward, I did.”

“You ran to get us help, Wangho,” CoreJJ murmurs. “That’s different.”

“But the result was the same, wasn’t it?” Wangho retorts. “FPX didn’t even answer my plea, and now almost everyone who lived here is dead.”

“Wangho…” CoreJJ begins, but Wangho waves him off, glaring at the ground and refusing to hear another word.

“So if there’s no hope of learning Faker’s true name, what can we do?” Daegil asks.

“There may still be a chance. Many of the Demon King’s closest allies vanished, and some may still be alive. I know one personally, although he currently resides in Shurima. If any of them are capable of remembering his name, we might be able to use it again.”

“And if we can’t?” Xuanjun has watched Dohyeon snipe enough to recognize a long shot when he sees one. “What then?”

CoreJJ meets his eyes, gaze deadly serious and already resigned. “Then we will have no choice but to meet him head-on in battle and pray to all the gods that we are somehow enough.”