Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Yes, I remember everything!” Chenle rolls his eyes for the nth time as Yuta asks the fae. “If you really want, I remember how Sicheng wouldn’t shut up about both of your first times.”

Hold the fuck up. Sicheng jumps out of his seat, glaring at Chenle. The other simply grins, and he’s marching over to shut him up.

Yuta pulls Sicheng back down, and the younger is flailing, biting his mate’s arm to release him this instant!

“No, let me hear, I didn’t think Sicheng could leave a review!”

“You are so stupid, oh my god.” Jeno is face-palming and groaning.

“What? You always have to leave a review of your first time!” Jaemin grins, raising his brows.

“See, your mate has a great mind like mine!”

“You’re a sex maniac, Yuta.” Taeyong deadpanned.

“Hate to say it, but you two are freaks. Not as bad as Johnny and Ten though,” Donghyuck cups his chin, grimacing.

“Please don’t bring that up, babe,” Mark nudges his mate.

“What do you mean? Do you know the countless times I’ve walked in on Sicheng grinding on Yuta?!” Taeyong is clearly horrified by the memories, and Sicheng is equally horrified that he dares to bring up such things. Yuta is even laughing! Clearly not helping his flustered position.

“I didn’t know you were like that, Sicheng~” Jaemin teased.

Chenle gets up all laughing and giggling, and Sicheng decides he’s going to paralyze his mate’s arm, but Yuta knows him too well. So the older pins both of his hands to his sides by the wrists. Ugh, he’d be turned on if he weren’t suffering in embarrassment by their friends, specifically Chenle.

“He was saying how you were so lovely, sweet, and perfect, and he expected you to be rougher,” Chenle laughs aloud and heartily, winking at Sicheng.

Not cool, Chenle! Not cool at all! It’s supposed to be a brotherly secret conversation!

Pride floods his emblem, and heat creeps up Sicheng’s neck and face.

“Oh? I could’ve, but I taught myself self-restraint~” Yuta’s nose nuzzles against the crook of his neck.

“TMI, Yuta!!” Taeyong goes over and whacks him in the head.

“Now I’m curious about Jisung. Got anything to share?” Mark hums as Donghyuck plays with the leader’s hair.

“Uh, he cried when I was promoted.” Ah, now that’s memorable.

Donghyuck snorts. “Jisung cries?” Obviously a joke, but the older three men can’t blame him.

“Lele!” Jisung hides and groans, the tips of his ears pink.

“Don’t worry, Yuta wouldn’t let me breathe about Sicheng’s well-being back then, too.”

Now it’s Yuta’s turn to feel shy, and Sicheng looks at his mate, soft and gooey. Really, Yuta didn’t have to care, but he was being an amazing friend and someone who wanted to be more than just that.

“Oi, you two mated under the influence of alcohol!” Jeno reminds them.

Chenle gasps and Jisung is taking a pillow from the couch and hiding his face.

“You know, Jeno used to be a lot nicer than I remembered!” He sticks his tongue out at the older.

The demigod crosses his arms, eyeing the fae, and doesn't say anything.

Then Chenle’s pointing at Taeyong. “And he used to have a crush on Jungwoo!!!”

Everyone jumps out of their seats now. “WHAT?!??”

Yuta and Jeno are literally going over to their leader, shaking him, and demanding answers.

“Why?! You never told me! What about Dongyoung??” Yuta dramatically shook the oldest.

“Dongyoung?!” Donghyuck is screaming and crying for some reason at that. “Why?!”

“SHUT UP!”

Taeyong looks like he wants to cry from all the bombarding, but the only thing Sicheng wants answers to is about Jungwoo.

“Wait how does Jinrak even know about Jungwoo if Jinrak never met him?!” Mark suddenly shouts.

“That’s because he wouldn’t shut up about some random angel with his name. Now that my memories are back, well, it’s the same Jungwoo he’d rant about.” Chenle shrugs.

“Just how many secrets do you hold?” Jaemin eyes the fae.

Chenle sneers. “A lot.”

“Why didn’t you make a move on Jungwoo?!” Jeno looks ready to pummel the older.

“Because I didn’t want to ruin our perfectly good friendship! Plus, I don’t think he’d want to date me.”

“To be frank, you two act like an old married couple,” Jisung pointed out. Very valid point.

“Ugh, it was just a crush!” Taeyong pushes Yuta and Jeno away, and they’re still latching back on like magnets.

Sicheng claps his hands to get their attention. “You must consider the fact that Taeyong probably fell for Jungwoo because he’s just that lovable.”

“Yeah… that’s another reason,” Taeyong shakes his head, glaring at Chenle. “How dare you! You little fiend!”

“NO!” Donghyuck shouted. “I want to know why Yuta mentioned Dongyoung!”

“Why must you harbor such pettiness toward Doie?” Taeyong grimaces.

Sicheng looks at Jisung, both exchanging deadpanned looks. Clearly the demigod does, in fact, have a favoritism to the siren, but it’s been quite obvious.

“I don’t know, hasn’t it been obvious for a while?” Jaemin mused.

“Yuta! I’m going to kill you!” Taeyong falls to his knees, opening his arms as if he were praying to the Lord.

They watch as Yuta stares at their friend with an apologetic grin.

“You would never, because Sicheng would be sad then,” Mark shakes his head.

The leader is groaning, and he teleports to Sicheng, clinging onto him. “Oh! Sicheng, you are too lovely to ever be hurt.” He pushes Taeyong off of him and marches over to Chenle.

“That’s enough. No more spouting secrets.”

“But it’s fun to reminisce the past!” Chenle sneers, looking up at the older as he’s seated.

“Only the first two decades…” They hear Jisung mutter.

⚗︎

In the next year, Taeyong informs the entire team that the Cordelia pod was nearly eradicated. Left of the surviving members are Lee Jihoon, the pedantic genius, Lee Seokmin, the pendulum of memories, and Kang Taehyun, the vindictive.

“What do you mean, eradicated?!” Kun asked, baffled.

“You heard my exact words.” The demigod sighs heavily.

“As much as I hate to share, it’s true.” Ten confirms, hands balled into fists.

Both Dongyoung and Ten are still shaken up by the unfortunate news of their comrades’ deaths and loss.

“And a single vampire was able to do all of that to a noble pod?” Jungwoo leans forward against the table, brows furrowed. How could it have happened? Surely a single vampire couldn’t have actually killed a pod as strong as the Cordelia.

“Let me guess,” Yuta speaks up, eyes narrowing, and Sicheng senses unease coming from his mate. “Kim Sangmin, the atrocious?”

“Yes, it is him.” Johnny and the sirens confirmed.

Kim Sangmin is a recently born prince of the Rocurian Empire. The reports of the signature and appearances match with Junhui and Chenle’s reports from the other attack.

But is the royal boy that powerful? Even as a child, he’s still developing his strength, considering he’s also a numbered ranked-R. If he were to grow a century, he may as well surpass Jeno’s strength.

“How are they?” Jungwoo asks.

“Jihoon and Seokmin are in recovery as we speak. Thankfully, Taehyun wasn’t caught in the bloodshed at all,” Taeyong assured.

“However, the grievances will remain with them for quite some time.”

Sicheng apprehensively looks at the sirens, who have mixed reactions. Dongyoung is terrified; meanwhile, Ten is seething. A tragedy that births too many familiar emotions they can all replicate, and never be tired of them.

It’s frustrating to witness his comrades get tangled with such calamities. All Sicheng wishes is for the chaos to be resolved. If not, well, people will start taking things into their own hands. That itself will cause destruction to the system that this current era has put together.

⚗︎

A few years later, Kun is appointed as the leader of the Phantom Guardians at the age of twenty-two.

Just for that, they celebrate in Taeyong’s garden, with tables full of food and drinks.

Sicheng cheers with the others, glad to see Kun fulfill the empty spot that deserves him. Really, he’s proud of the human. Kun has shown exceptional assistance during missions, discussing plans with Sicheng and Ten. He’s had some insane ideas that he makes last-minute, and it only makes more sense.

Taeyong likes his leaders to be as crazy as he is. But, of course, Kun has built trust within the unit exceptionally well. Sicheng hasn’t disobeyed or changed up his plans at all. He’s gone through them with his life on the line most of the time, scared but willing.

He’s going to do just as fine as ever.

“Congrats!” The Ubiquitous team cheers, putting up a celebration party for the human.

“You’ve grown so much in the past six years!” Taeyong sheds a few tears. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Six years? That’s so quick,” Yuta muses.

“Well, to us, time is a lot more fleeting than to the mortals,” Jungwoo reminds.

“But I must admit, if you think about it, Kun has grown so much within those years! I’d say that’s impressive. Usually, humans in their forties start becoming ranked R.”

“But I’m not ranked R?”

“You’re not?” Jungwoo raises a hand to his mouth, slightly embarrassed, and Johnny, Mark, and Donhyuck are laughing at him, pointing fingers. Jungwoo grabs the unicorn and throws him over his shoulder.

Damn, they’re all losing track of each other’s ranks—all except for the obviously powerful men in their team.

“He’s rank S now, no?” Xiaojun questions.

“Yes, I am,” Kun grinned.

Wow, it’s hard to believe Kun is one rank away from Sicheng, and he thinks he’ll be rank R by the time he’s in his early thirties.

He goes up to the human and hugs him. “I’m so proud of you! You’re going to continue doing better and better.” There’s always room to grow.

“Thank you, Sicheng,” Kun pats his shoulder. “Though if you don’t mind me asking,” He looks at everyone with a goblet of wine in hand. “Why was there never a leader for the Phantom Guardians? Were you not the leader?”

Leader?

Something seizes in Sicheng’s throat, as if his six hearts leaped into it, nearing him to choke on his breath. Everyone’s chattering falls into whispers, and the wizard is looking around innocuously.

He holds his breath, body freezing as he’s unsure how to answer his question. So innocent, and he doesn’t know their history. Not the dark history, at least.

A pair of hands finds his shoulders, and he looks at both Johnny and Ten, who are now standing right beside him. The siren smiles at him, calm and assuring. Assuring of what, though?

He glances at Yuta, who’s standing in worry, but he sees Taeyong’s hand on the demon’s shoulder, holding him in place.

“The spot has been empty since no one believed they were fit for the role,” Johnny speaks up.

“But wouldn’t it be Ten, then? Since he’s been occupying the vice leader position for… how many years?” He thinks longer, and he seems to have pieced another evidence in mind. “To be a vice leader—”

Ten cuts in with a bright smile. “What you should be asking is your plans and seeing yourself as the leader of the Phantom Guardians!”

A new image forms in Kun’s eyes, and he’s lost in thought, bringing a hand to his chin as he thinks. “Ah, you’re right! I need to continue being my best!”

Johnny is guiding Sicheng over to Yuta while Ten and Hendery are talking to Kun, hyping him up and recovering the atmosphere of joy and celebration.

That was too close a call for Sicheng to panic right then and there.

Sicheng finally breathes as he reaches for Yuta, a thumb rubbing circular motions over his hand. The demon clasps his hand over Sicheng’s, blitzing them into Taeyong’s home. “Follow my breathing,” Yuta calmly whispered, and Sicheng was watching and following him, muscles relaxing.

“You, okay, love?”

It’s a lot quieter now that they’re away from the others, and he’s grateful for that. He nods, blinking slowly as he comprehends Kun’s words.

He shouldn’t know.

Kun shouldn’t know. He shouldn’t know the shame the empty position held for the team. But clueless, he takes the spot with pride and hope, dousing it in pure light, so that no one sees the hauntings of it. It may sound like they’re using him, but no one had anticipated anyone to take the spot. Until it was made by Taeyong’s decision. The leader has always been an intentional man, and he knows how to play his games right.

Not many people like Sicheng can share the understanding of Taeyong. It’s just seen, and in silence, Sicheng sits and observes, chained by experience and mistakes.

His hands feel stiff, too stiff to sign anything. Yuta’s hand finds his, lowering them. He’s looking at him, listening to his silence.

“Do you want to lie down?” Yuta softly whispered, a hand on his back. Dear Satan, Sicheng will never get over how loving his mate is, how easy he reads him even in the midst of a storm. He’s always here.

Constantly, and Sicheng can’t help but wonder: Is Yuta tired of the constant caring? The worries over him? The mess Sicheng can’t seem to escape?

“Do you think I’m a mess?”

His voice comes out meek and pitiful. Even Sicheng can’t help but wince at his tone, but it’s how he feels. He just wants to know.

He’s finally reached his third century— three hundred one. Yuta is three hundred three. They have been together for two hundred eighty-two years and have known each other for two hundred eighty-seven.

Time may be flitting more for them, but when they sit in silence, time is slower, almost nonexistent.

But time has its own curse, inevitable destruction. Eternity cannot exist without time.

He can’t help himself from asking. It’s a short question that asks so many all at once. Like, how much longer will he love him until he knows he’s completely irreparable? How much longer until Yuta gets tired of calming him down? How much longer is he willing to choose to stay with him?

Love isn’t just a feeling between two people. It’s a choice to stay by one’s side, commitment, with respect and support.

He knows Yuta is interpreting and grasping what he knows from Sicheng, what he knows of him. But his reaction is all the more painful. His face contorts as if he were burned, hurt washes over his emblem, and it’s getting harder to breathe with the intensity of their emotions connecting each other.

The hands on his are squeezing, and Sicheng begins to understand what Yuta is feeling. He’s terribly hurt by the fact that Sicheng would ever assume such a thing.

“I’m sorry,” Sicheng immediately shakes his head, looking away. Maybe he had too much to drink. “I… I just feel so loved— it hurts to know you could have someone completely different. Someone stronger and… blooming.”

He’s eternally withering. His soul scrapes and clings onto what he has left to live for. Sicheng is so confident that without Yuta, without this family, he wouldn’t be breathing another breath in this world.

“And I love you so much, Yuta. I really do, but I love you so much,” His throat tightens, getting harder to speak with every syllable that leaves his tongue. “That I’d wish you have someone who isn’t stuck like—” He swallows, gasping for his final words. “This.” His vision spins, chest constricting at the suffocating silence that is hung by his words.

After a few moments of silence, his face is guided to face Yuta, and Sicheng feels like he’s drowning in Yuta’s sea of heartbreak just staring into his beautiful eyes.

“That’s enough, love.” He says so softly, contrasting with his hardened and pained features. “I love you. I choose to be with you in every waking moment of this world. Every breath taken, I choose to love you.” Tears are welling in their eyes, and fat tears are streaming down Sicheng’s face. Yuta pulls his mask down.

“I don’t see you as a mess. Sure, we have our struggles and dark times, but that’s what makes us even more beautiful. We know how to heal and face another day together.” His words are ethereal, metaphysical, and Sicheng thinks he could ascend to a new world by the strength of Yuta’s words.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else in this world except for you. You are my mate of eternity, and my love for you has never dwindled. It is our duty to care for each other. Especially when you’re satiating my constant hunger for anything.”

Sicheng can’t help but smile at his last statement, softly chuckling. Yuta smiles and wipes his tears away.

“You’ve lived a long life as much as I. You’ve seen too many, experienced so much. If I can’t take care of you, then I don’t deserve to have you. For I’d be a terrible mate, and I want you to be cherished in infinite ways than just love.” He’s guiding Sicheng to sit on the sofa, kneeling and looking up. Still the same gaze as if Sicheng held his whole world together. The novelty has never once faded.

“I, myself, still fear that I’m not the best mate for you. I can’t make you feel assured of the past. I can’t prevent the frightful memories from returning, but they are a part of you, and you care about them. But do you know what makes us still alive?”

Sicheng is unsure by his question, silent to let his lover continue.

“We keep trying. Perfection isn’t the goal, but there is always more to give and add. Nothing is set in stone, but I know with all of my seven hearts that we still love each other. I don’t imagine us ever leaving it alone.”

Time, together, has become senseless when love persists.

“You are so precious, I will say it and make sure you understand just how much I mean it,” Yuta softly says, leaning over to press their foreheads together. “So please, don’t apologize to me about what you want to say. Because it tells me that you still think strongly of us, which further proves my point.” He ends the statement in a teasing tone, and Sicheng can’t help but smile even more at his sweetness. He might just get diabetes from all the sweet and real words of Yuta.

The demon’s hands are rubbing his knee, gentle and soothing. “How are you feeling?” He softly asked.

Sicheng is overwhelmed and breathless by his words.

Nothing could conjure all the positive emotions within him. He leans over and kisses Yuta, hoping it’s enough to get the message across. With his hearts racing in love, his breathlessness taken into account of Yuta’s promises and assurance, feeling Yuta’s powerful emotions, he feels so much better. So much clarity after the fogginess of doubt and misery.

They pull away and hug each other until Sicheng grows sleepy, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster and drinking.

Sensing his exhaustion, his mate readjusts them, lying on the couch together. Who cares if their friends find them knocked out in Taeyong’s living room? This is a haven where they have collectively familiarized themselves with their friends.

Quite a small space, Sicheng has half of his body on Yuta’s; he buries his face in the crook of his neck, kissing his emblem before drifting away to slumber.

Yuta’s presence blankets him in safety and comfort.

⚚

“I’m sorry to ask, but why don’t you want Kun to know about you being the previous leader?” Xiaojun asked.

Sicheng is seated with Ten, Xiaojun, and Hendery in a cafe, talking over some tea. Ever since the party, they have known they needed to talk.

“It’s just better to leave the past be. I won’t hide from you guys that I still feel the shame it carries in knowing.”

They’re frowning, but don’t argue. He trusts they understand how hefty it was to leave that position in a state of utter grief.

“So are we just never going to mention the others to him as well?” The fae crosses his arms over his chest, frowning deeper.

“Why?” Hendery turns to his mate, confused.

The siren right beside the devil hums, clasping his hands together as he rests his elbows on the table, eyes darkening. “Yes, tell me why you’d like to bring up people of the dead.” Ten emphasizes the reminder, and Sicheng can’t help but feel uncomfortable with his enunciation. The vice leader is angry.

Xiaojun seemingly doesn’t back down. “Because I feel like we’re leaving him in the dark.”

“How so?”

“Are you shitting me?” Ten hums, shrugging, and that seems to piss off the younger even more. “It makes me feel like we’re being dishonest to him!”

“What is there to be dishonest about? People come and go. Unfortunately, that’s how life is.”

“But we should still bring some light to the others. They’re part of the family.” In the sense that they once existed as a family member.

“What will that change then?”

Silence.

Sicheng sits tightly, gulping as Ten’s tone lowers. He has a smile that cuts before it’s even seen, and the oldest is glad to never have experienced such danger directed from the younger.

“Enlighten me,” Ten pushes. “Because we have lost more than I’d like to remember. Most of all, sharing this, to me and the others, we’re just trying to move on. The memories stay with certain people. We don’t need to project more to someone who’s a whole few generations away from us. Hundreds from the immortals.”

“But isn’t their existence a proof of our pride and existence? That we have so many untold stories?”

“Perhaps. But how much are you willing to tell? Because once you tell, you may as well tell all of it.”

Sicheng looks at Hendery, who’s sat in front of Ten. They’re both anxious and unsure how to respond to this situation. Is there even any way to respond? It’s just Ten and Xiaojun arguing, and Sicheng realizes that this is all on him. He’s the reason they don’t speak of the history of the Phantom Guardians.

Not of Lucas, Renjun, Jaehyun, and especially YangYang. Now, Shotaro and Sungchan are definitely exceptions, because they’re alive.

Xiaojun sits back, looking at his cup of tea as he thinks. “I don’t know… It just feels… unfair.”

Ten sighs, looking at Sicheng. His expression is flat, clearly not wanting to create some drama over their dead friends. He stares at him for a bit, eyes observing.

“I can tell you’re guilty,” He points out. “Don’t be. You have nothing to be ashamed of in this conversation.” Stunned, all Sicheng could do was nod. How is it that Ten could say that with such confidence?

Then the vice leader turns to look back at the fire fae.

“Xiaojun, let me ask you this then. What will Kun benefit from that knowledge?”

The younger huffs, maintaining his gaze.

“Personally, I feel like he’d feel more connected to us.” Hendery eventually speaks up. “It shows that we can trust the dark times, but as a sign of vulnerability. Though I hate to admit it, I don’t think Kun would feel all curious about the past. Because I think we have other ways to make him feel included.” The goblin has a major point. Unfortunately for Sicheng, he doesn’t think about their fallen friends all the time anymore. Once in a while, since they’re so focused on the present.

Plus, there are definitely other ways to share and learn from each other.

“Thank you, Hendery!” Ten sighs exasperately, eyeing Xiaojun.

“But doesn’t it feel like they’re… dying with us?” It comes off so depressing; they end up sitting in silence for who knows how long. Sicheng looks over at Ten, and his jaw is taut, eyes wavering. Sicheng reaches over to hold his hand, and Ten squeezes pretty tightly, but he couldn’t even break Sicheng’s hand if he gave his all, thankfully.

“Not everyone is going to know them, and that’s okay.” This time, his tone is softer, and Ten’s grip relaxes just the slightest. “As long as we knew them, that’s all that mattered. That they’re still loved by the comrades they trusted their lives with.” Sicheng is fighting back his tears just hearing Ten’s words. Really, he can’t help but agree.

There’s only so much to keep the names alive, but they’re truly alive when in memory and spoken of with fondness.

Tears are streaming down everyone’s faces, and it seems Xiaojun is understanding what Ten is saying. Even if speaking for almost the face of the Ubiquitous team, they haven’t really uttered the deceased, like once every blue moon perhaps. As time moved on, the frequency, of course, wanes, but with grace.

“I see, I’m sorry for getting all pent up and mentioning the others.” Xiaojun wipes his face, sniffling, and everyone watches somberly. “I just miss them. And I wish Kun could understand how much more amazing people we had with us.”

Now that is a beautiful desire to share.

“Knowing Kun, I think he knows enough about how amazing our teammates are. Even those not mentioned, they have marked their names beyond our team’s recognition.” Ten agrees, both of their tones are a lot calmer now.

“He already knew each of us, other than being associated with the team. We have made history. I’m sure he knows the previous members, as their names are still listed under the name of the team.”

The Supernatural Grand Council made it necessary to keep all the previous members’ names under each team they are associated with.

“Yeah, I can see Kun doing research. He’s got the curious mind.” Hendery softly chuckled.

Plus, wizards are known for their curious minds. As humans have the highest mortality rate, they can only grasp so much knowledge before they meet at death’s door. There’s always so much knowledge to consume that it isn’t enough for a human. They will forever be deprived.

“Sometimes…” Ten huffs, his lips softly curving into a bittersweet smile. “Stories don’t need to be told when they’re right in front of you.”

The untold stories of people’s names are listed on the paper.

Sicheng imagines Kun looking over the aged page, tracing all twenty-one names into his mind. The wizard must have had countless wonders of those whom he hasn’t seen. He’d probably go around for research, look into historical grimoires, and so on. Perhaps even asking Taeyong himself.

Only Sicheng trusts Taeyong with delivering news. So, if Kun eventually finds out, then he does.

There is nothing left to speak of it.

⚗︎

During a party in celebration of the Supernatural Guild’s establishment, Sicheng is sitting and drinking with the Phantom Guardians. The Ubiquitous Guardians is split into three different tables since they have too many members to compile in a single table.

Although the party is bustling and joyous to see comrades and newbies, Sicheng couldn’t be bothered to sit here and have fun. He doesn’t like large gatherings that are not with his friends.

Heck, he only recognizes a quarter of people in this ginormous organization. Maybe less. It’s like gathering the entire continent into a single party of supernatural teams.

“I want to go home.”

Ten laughs and pats his leg. “Don’t worry, sweetie, me too.” Sicheng rolls his eyes and pushes his hand over to Kun, who gets whacked in the face dramatically.

The younger groans and rubs his face. Surprisingly, he has a good temperament, better than anyone Sicheng knows on the team. “That’s because you come here every decade!” Kun sighs. “This is my first time, and I think it’s nice to meet other people.”

“That’s because you like people.”

“And you don’t?”

“Only the team and his childhood comrades he’s made along the way,” Ten waves his hand.

“The only reason the guild has parties every decade and not three is because of Jackson Wang.” The demigod’s partying brought an exciting audience of teams, to say the least. So out of respect for a comrade of Taeyong’s, they attend these events with other teams.

“I forget that you’re very old to know a lot of the divine races,” Ten comments. The older rolls his eyes in response. No need to emphasize his age. He’ll consider himself ancient if he ever reaches his fifth century.

“Someone go find Xiaojun and Hendery, please.” Kun reminds.

“They’re on the dance floor with Jaemin, Chenle, and a few others.”

Sicheng sighs and looks over to the table where the Spirit Guardians are. Taeyong and Johnny are missing, and Yuta is talking to Jungwoo and Dongyoung.

His mate looks especially charming tonight. He’s got a simple maroon velvet button-up to accompany his black slacks. His pretty hands are adorned with countless rings, and he’s wearing a dangle earring usually worn for special occasions. He even let Sicheng apply some makeup on him, nothing too heavy, which adds a little more sexiness to the moment. The ends of his hair are decently gelled to look a little sleek. Somewhat ruffled from their previous activities…

Either way, he looks demonically handsome.

“Ugh, you’re staring at your mate like you want to get pinned down,” Ten’s voice reaches his ears, and heat rises to his face.

Sicheng punches Ten this time, and the siren is cursing while Kun laughs.

When Sicheng looks back, the demon is already looking at him with a smug look, curiosity resonating between them. That’s when he senses a playful demeanor coming from his emblem. Yuta smirks, cocking his head over to the dance floor.

Yuta wants to dance?

Sicheng hasn’t danced in so long now that he thinks about it. Can he still dance?

Before he could think, Yuta blitzed over, grinning with his hand out. Fuck it, what does Sicheng have to lose in this boring party?

He takes the demon’s hand and goes off, not without Ten and Kun whistling behind him.

“You look stunning tonight.” Sicheng is chuckling at his words. He did put up a getup himself. His black body suit beneath a white satin button-up with black slacks that hug his long legs. He applied some eyeshadow and eyeliner, for he rarely gets the chance to make himself feel pretty, even while wearing a mask.

“You literally saw me get ready.”

“Of course, but that’s not going to stop me from admiring you.” Yuta takes his hands, and they start figuring out the rhythm to their pace, holding each other close. They’re twirling each other, smiling and laughing.

“And you, mister,” He reaches to caress his jawline, down to the center of his chest*. “Are as charming and sexy as ever,*” Sicheng winks. He senses his mate preening, a hand coming to grab his wrist. The rings on his hand are cold to the touch, even through fabric. He stares at the crystallized ferrocerium hugging his ring finger.

He lifts his hand and holds Yuta’s watchful gaze, bringing it to his masked lips.

The demon groans, biting his lips. “I’m so going to wreck you again.” Sicheng silently laughs, teasing his mate as he feels his face burn up. They had already had their session before the party. They barely made it on time, with their team waiting on them.

“Not now, love, be patient.”

“Of course, anything for you.” Yuta grins and kisses his ear.

Jaemin and Chenle are running over with their mates, along with Hendery and Xiaojun, creating a little circle of dancing, exchanging partners, and moving through the crowd with glee.

When Sicheng returns to Yuta’s arms after exchanging a little dance with Chenle, all he sees is the fondness growing bigger in Yuta’s eyes. He whispers something.

It’s so loud, Sicheng barely understands what he’s saying, but he feels it through Yuta. With words or not, they know.

“C’mon, Jisung! Get your legs moving!” Jaemin is cheering with Xiaojun and Hendery. The said devil is currently dancing with Donghyuck.

“Yeah!” Chenle laughs as Donghyuck purposely steps on Jisung’s foot.

They’re falling into more laughter, and Sicheng thinks that the rest of the team should join them. When he turns his head around, he notices that all the leaders and vice leaders are out of their seats.

Quickly scanning his eyes across the room and enhancing his vision with his magic, he finally catches them talking to… Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Jeon Wonwoo, the abstruse, and Jihoon.

They look tensed, frowning, and discussing something clearly serious.

What could they be anticipating now?

Yuta turns his face to look at him, shaking his head. “Let’s just enjoy what’s in front of us right now, hm?” The younger looks back, biting his lips, and nods.

⚚

Taeyong gathers the Ubiquitous team into a study room of the supernatural guild. He notifies the team about a possible war draft of the supernatural teams.

Everyone sits, letting the news settle.

Never in his life has Sicheng ever thought of a draft of supernatural teams!

“That’s never happened before.” Jeno comments.

“You must be joking!” Jungwoo slams his hands on the table, infuriated.

Mark clears his throat. “Will that be enough?” He’s asking the most important question.

“Given all supernatural teams’ skills and abilities, and size, some average around the rank of S,” Kun chips in.

“True,” Johnny confirms. “There are many teams that average eight members. The smallest, four. The largest…” The dragon grins with Taeyong. Must they state the obvious? “Well, that may as well be us.” There are only sixteen of them.

“Wow, I never knew that.” Donghyuck hums, thinking of strong comrades. Then he shrugs so dismissively, it rubs off on the devil distastefully as much as he loves Donghyuck, however. “Maybe it is possible.”

Sicheng also senses displeasure from Yuta, and he turns to him. He’s got a hardened expression, eyes cold. He’s never seen his mate look this stern. It’s not just him, but the leaders and Jisung as well.

“You make it sound terribly easy,” Ten speaks up, eyes sharpening just the slightest.

Donghyuck raises his hands in the air. “My bad, I was just admiring everyone’s capabilities.”

Johnny places a hand on the siren’s shoulder, and the younger remains quiet. Ten embodies his title rather well. A viper that spits venom when challenged.

“The calamities over the years are greater than ever. Only time will tell when Rocuria decides to unleash its entire forces on every empire,” Kun sighed.

Kun is right. Even the stronger werewolves couldn’t save all of their kin when Okodia had been attacked. Yoongi, a powerful devil himself, couldn’t save his family. Junhui and Chenle barely survived. Sicheng himself had almost died if it weren’t for Sunghoon coming around just in time. He reaches over to hold Yuta’s hand, sensing his bubbling irritation.

“Are we forgetting that it’s like a few teams against a whole empire military and their bloodline?” Dongyoung reminds. Really, although strong, numbers can overwhelm even the strongest.

“We need to train harder.” Their leader concludes.

However, to Sicheng’s surprise, a few others are actually hesitant.

“We have fought many battles, taken on life-threatening situations and missions.” Jisung calmly explains, but the leaders don’t like the short explanation.

“You are underestimating these enemies,” Jeno argues.

Mark’s eyes grow cold, sharpening as he looks at Jisung dead in the eyes. “Do you think you can protect everyone here if they were cut down? All fifteen of us?”

Sicheng shudders at Mark’s question, and he thinks the sphinx is thinking back to his own mistakes. But it also challenges something deep within Jisung, making Sicheng grow weary. He glances over at Chenle, and he’s quite tensed himself. He can sense Yuta’s caution and sees Jeno’s hardened expression grow sharper. Then Sicheng looks over at Taeyong, who’s carefully observing. He’ll know when to intervene.

If Mark says something else that may remind Jisung of his deepest guilt… hell, does Sicheng even want to know what’s going to happen next?

Jisung’s jaw visibly clenches. “Yes, I would.” His signature flickers, which prompts Taeyong, Yuta, and Jeno to stand up.

“Let’s ease ourselves, everyone.” Taeyong looks around, smiling with a calm tone. “I know this is completely new to us, but every team in existence must also feel as conflicted. We don’t know how many teams will be drafted, nor does the Supernatural Grand Council confirm it.”

“So why are some of you still hesitant about training?” Yuta raises a brow. Sicheng notes that the Sleeping Guardians look less uptight than they should.

“I mean, as Jisung said, I don’t really think we need to train excessively more. We spar all the time, train on our own free time…” Jaemin brings up. “And yes, I know you say not to underestimate the enemy, but it’s vampires. Until I come across a strong one that beats my ass, I think I’m fine from training.”

Yes, Jaemin is a crazed battle addict more than Sicheng’s mate. The man is undeniably powerful as well. A blue phoenix has the hottest flames in existence.

“I think you’re forgetting that a vampire almost killed Sicheng and Chenle. Eradicated noble families.” Ten clarifies.

“I’m just saying that’s my take,” Jaemin sighed, visibly not interested in arguing.

“Well,” Chenle speaks up. “I know I almost died, and all that, but that’s just because I was already incapacitated before being overwhelmed by their numbers.”

“That just further proves my point about you guys!” Mark brings his hands to his temples. “Some of you have to refine your awareness and signature detection skills!” Chenle is clearly fighting the urge to roll his eyes right then and there.

“Can you please comply?” Johnny sighs heavily, pinching his nose bridge.

“You guys can, I think I’m fine.” Jisung lowly states.

“Think of it this way,” Kun proposes. “We have a higher chance of being drafted if they do confirm it. With our number and the average rank of around… I’d say S+, we are definitely part of the thirty percent chance. Not only that, we have one of the longest experiences in connection to battles.” He gestures to the satanic men, much to everyone’s dismay, but it’s true.

“We even have prodigies.” He gestures to Jisung and Mark.

“Don’t forget yourself,” Johnny quipped.

“Yeah, yeah, but training will come in either way, is what I’m trying to get at.”

Dongyoung claps his hands, then gestures to Jungwoo. “We must consider that we have exceptional healers. You must protect the healers at all costs. Don’t forget that.” Then he’s glaring at both Donghyuck and Chenle.

“We know how to defend ourselves!” Donghyuck argues.

Unfortunately, everyone knows that unicorns are incredibly vulnerable. They don’t have offensive abilities. Only defense. So it’s only right for everyone to be concerned for the only unicorn in their team.

“What if we don’t train? Like all of us as a collective? Then they wouldn’t want us then, no?” Hendery suddenly asked.

The leaders sit for a moment, taking in his words. Sicheng himself is quite impressed by Hendery’s idea, but it doesn’t sound too legit either.

“No, that won’t work if you think this approach is going to protect everyone on the team.” Taeyong eventually states. He gestures to Yuta, as if the demon has already come up with an explanation. He, in fact, has.

“Understanding how the militaries operate under the empires and the Supernatural Grand Council, I see that even if you try not to train, the chances don’t budge at all. We’re still up there because of our reputation. To grow weaker takes decades. Unless…” His tone lowers.

“You’re willing to incapacitate yourself?”

This is a new persona Sicheng thinks he’s never seen. It’s how Yuta operates in the Vraxorid military when planning. He does sense the familiar sternness from the demon anytime he’s out on missions from the military.

“But I doubt it.” He looks away, glancing at Sicheng. The devil pats his leg, encouraging him to continue. “More training isn’t useless, that we should all agree upon. I’d suggest you do it. Because I would train rather than fall into regret.”

Jeno jumps in. “Plus, you must understand that you have honor, correct? You can’t try to abandon the very continent that has given you all the blessed opportunities.”

“Don’t let this world fall into shambles. Without what we have now,” Taeyong sighed. “We wouldn’t be a team and family we know.”

Then it’s quiet.

Sicheng knows he still has so much to grow and refine, even if he’s in his third century.

Especially after what had happened… he knows he wasn’t the only one struggling.

“All right, but what about the numbered R’s?” Donghyuck asked.

“Still kept as unreported, hidden information to the general public eye,” Sicheng should talk to Minghao about all these speculations. Because if there’s a chance of wars and drafting, without a doubt, the numbered R’s will make an appearance when all is weakened.

“We’re going to protect each other, got it? I know it may sound unnecessary, but you can never overestimate when it comes to everyone’s lives at stake.”

And by far, everyone agrees without a doubt.

⚗︎

When Sicheng is three hundred twenty-six, news comes out in the midst of the night.

The bell charms in their home go off. Yuta groans in annoyance, hands digging into Sicheng’s hips, and the younger shudders with a gasp, slowly falling into a whine as Yuta stops him from moving.

“Must we get the door?” The demon whispered against his skin.

Sicheng blinks away the fogginess, taking deep breaths. When his mind is cleared enough, he senses around for signatures. He’s sitting up straight, pulling away from his mate’s neck as he senses this signature. Actually, it’s more than one, both of which belong to none other than Mark and Donghyuck. What are they doing here at all times?

“I think we should.” Sicheng, much to his own dismay, gets off his lover’s lap, putting on his robe as Yuta pulls his shirt back on. They put on their slippers when decently clothed, blitzing outside.

It’s cold, and Sicheng regrets not putting on another decent layer of clothes, but it’s whatever. What he’d like to know is why their friends want to visit them in the midst of the night when he and Yuta were having their moment?

There, before them, stand Mark and Donghyuck, who are visibly distressed.

Donghyuck takes in their appearances and grimaces, a hand pressed to his forehead. “Don’t tell me you two were about to fuck!”

“Does that matter? What’s happening?” Sicheng huffs and tries to cover the hickeys littered around his neck.

The couple is seemingly cursing under their breath at the reminder of their purpose for coming over at such a late time.

“We need to talk inside,” Mark finally says.

They blitz with the couple into the living room, settling, but it seems that they’re too restless, pacing around the room. “What’s the issue?” Yuta immediately asked.

“It’s happened,” Mark mutters as he paces around the room. Meanwhile, Donghyuck is clinging onto Sicheng, the devil holding him close.

“What happened? Just tell us!” Yuta is grabbing the younger’s shoulders, trying to get him to focus.

“The Crethage Empire was just attacked.”

Silence.

They know there’s much more to say.

“The Rocurian army teleported past the walls and invaded Eve’s Palace.”

What does this mean?

The Rocuria Empire actually dared to attack the divine race? The royals?!

They go stiff, comprehending the information.

“That means…” Yuta pulls away, swallowing thickly. He hesitates, and they all see all the possibilities fleeting through the demon’s eyes. He shakes his head. “The divine race should be just fine, no?”

Mark’s eyes widen, paling.

Oh, no.

“Prince Jeonghan is fatally wounded. He barely made it out alive. Prince Jimin suffered some gruesome injuries as well. The royal family lost their queen, and the first two princes have been cursed.”

Dear sinful Satan, this is one of the most outrageous news stories Sicheng has ever heard in his life. He looks down at Donghyuck, who’s still in shock himself.

Now that the royals have been attacked, the Supernatural Grand Council will definitely be announcing the drafting of supernatural teams.

“What about the vampires?” Yuta asked.

“They retreated when Prince Hangyeol, the stone-puppeteer, was expelled from Eve’s Palace. Jimin encountered him, but his main concern was to protect Jeonghan, given his condition.”

Sicheng snaps his fingers to get their attention. “What about Jungwoo? Jeno? What are they doing?” His hands tense. “Are they okay?”

Mark looks away, tensing. “… I don’t know… But I don’t doubt their capabilities either.”

“They’re exceptional knights.” Yuta agrees. “But this all means… We’ll either be stationed back in our birthlands or drafted. One or the other.”

“I don’t want to go to war,” Donghyuck softly mutters. The unicorn wraps his arms around the devil’s waist, and Sicheng hugs him, trying to soothe him, but he can’t hide the fact that they will be fighting.

He’s so young. Donghyuck and the others don’t need this. But it’s a must to protect the civility amongst the races.

If Sicheng could, he’d do his best to let the youth avoid such tragedies. He pulls him in tighter, and both of their mates walk over, wrapping their arms around them to find comfort in all of the despairing news.

A war has officially begun. Will they be able to avoid the drafts? If so, what will they do when the vampires begin attacking every empire in existence? There are too many questions being asked, and all they can do is hope and wish each other the best.

⚚

They’re gathered in front of Taeyong’s home.

It’s in ruins, the roof demolished, some of the plantations burnt or still burning.

The sight is crushing, the crumbling weight of despair creeping before them. What was seen as a haven for the Ubiquitous team… is gone.

They shared precious memories here, in the garden.

Sicheng is walking around with a few others, the echoes of laughter, cries, and conversations resonating in his ears.

The stone bench where Jungwoo would heal him. The soft grass where they’d all lie together.

The gazebo where some of them rested, sipping on some tea; a place Dongyoung claimed as his own gazebo, watching them from afar with a gentle smile.

The broken stone garden table where they’d all share hearty meals and drinks.

He stands in front of the ginormous burnt tree with everyone. A place they gathered beneath, shrouding them with hope and memories.

It’s all gone.

Taeyong falls on his knees, breaking into heart-wrenching sobs. Watching his leader, his friend, fall into despair over all the chaos is sickening to the stomach. Someone who has loved protecting in the safety of his own home has been reaped. A protector like Taeyong doesn’t deserve such a tragedy.

Tears are burning his vision, and he looks at Yuta, whose eyes are equally glazed.

“Thank you, everyone,” Taeyong’s voice echoes. “Thank you for making this place so beautiful while it lasted.” They watch as Dongyoung kneels beside the demigod, pulling him into a hug as they all cry.

“The most important thing is that you’re all still standing here.”

His words are so true, but this place… everything, won’t be the same ever again.

Like the plants Renjun planted at the base of the tree.

The bench where Jaehyun would nap under the angelhorn bush.

The proudly trimmed hedge that had outgrown its shape when Lucas had tried tending to it.

The initials of YangYang had been left on the stone bench.

Every recollection saps his soul and resolve, and he thinks he’s hovering over the dark abyss of familiarity. His skin grows cold, a distasteful feeling settling in his throat.

He’s too devastated to be angry, but he already senses his mate’s rage, and it’s slowly bleeding into his senses. He grabs Yuta’s hand, pulling him into a hug.

This was a beautiful place they could call their home. Anywhere with their friends and loved ones was home, but they needed to let go. Not immediately, but the world is in chaos. They can’t falter with time passing over their heads like never before.

Yuta’s arms find their way around his waist, squeezing as he silently cries on his shoulder.

It crushes everyone, and Sicheng isn’t sure if his hearts are strong enough to hold everyone up for once.

The enemy knows how to attack hope with precision. Right into their memories.

The cries of despair resonate throughout the sky, and everyone falls into vows of vengeance and victory.

⚗︎

Now, the Ubiquitous team is waiting in a field in Maekubia. The day of drafting has come, and they can only wait for Taeyong and Dongyoung to return from the leader meeting.

The sun is warm, but it could never shine bright with hope.

Yuta, Jeno, Johnny, Mark, Ten, Hendery, and Kun are discussing some plans. He isn’t sure what kind of plans, but they needed some privacy.

He still senses irritation and sternness coming from his mate. His features are hardened, eyes subtle with a hidden blaze of vengeance. Yeah, Yuta’s bright smiles aren’t going to be seen anytime soon, much to Sicheng’s despair.

Sicheng is sitting with the others, Donghyuck and Chenle clinging onto him. Jungwoo, Jisung, Jaemin, and Xiaojun are trying to entertain themselves by doing some guess-who-would-do-that game. Not very moving or motivating.

“Ge, be my muse for a bit,” Chenle sighed, sitting up.

Sicheng looks at him, confused about what he means by that.

“Why not forever?” He joked.

“Because you’re Yuta’s muse.” The younger deadpanned.

Sicheng snorts. “I’m surprised you’re saying that, considering you guys like to fight for my attention and affection.”

“Yeah, but when it comes to my muse— it’s obviously going to be Ji.” Chenle sighs dreamily.

“Glad to hear it, Lele,” They hear from the side.

“Love you!”

“Okay, gross and cheesy. And Sicheng can be my muse of eternity.” Donghyuck pulls the devil away.

“Shut up, you won’t live as long as he.” Chenle begins grabbing flowers, twirling and tying them until they form into a flower crown.

“My muse,” He hums, placing it gently on Sicheng’s head.

“Wait~ I want one,” Donghyuck goes over to the fae, who rolls his eyes.

“Say please.”

“Fuck you.” Chenle punches the unicorn, and Donghyuck is groaning in pain.

Now they’re erupting into chaos, and Sicheng grimaces, migrating over to the circle of the others.

“Someone looks beautiful,” Jungwoo whistled. Sicheng silently laughs and sits between Jisung and Xiaojun. Thankfully, Jungwoo wasn’t on the front lines during the attack, positioned as a healer instead. As for Jeno, the demigod was indeed on the front lines, suffering some gruesome injuries. Within a few days, he was back to his normal self.

“What did Donghyuck do this time?” Xiaojun asked.

“Not saying please.”

Jaemin ends up laughing, glancing over at the wrestling men.

Sooner or later, Chenle ended up making everyone some flower crowns. They have so much time and anticipation to kill. Sicheng isn’t sure which one he prefers.

That’s when they sense the others’ signatures approaching, looking solemn and grumpy.

When he meets Yuta’s gaze, the demon stops in his tracks. His hardened expression gradually falls, and his eyes grow bigger, as if he fell into an epiphany. A painful epiphany that startles Sicheng.

Worried, he gets up and walks over to his mate.

With every step taken, Yuta’s emotions grow heavier. The demon’s eyes are growing watery, and he turns away from Sicheng, or maybe the others. Just seeing his lover this way makes his hearts feel bruised, wondering what happened.

Without thinking, the devil grabs his mate’s arm, and they blitz away, secluded beneath a dancing willow tree. The branches dance along the breeze, swaying and covering their whereabouts from their friends.

Sicheng wipes away his tears, and Yuta watches him even as more continue to spill from his eyes. He’s so anguished, and Sicheng feels lost and crushed, unsure what went wrong the moment their gazes met. Perhaps it’s all the stress coming down on him? Waiting for the results has been terribly stressful, but something tells Sicheng it’s none of that. Yuta knows how to operate even if he’s never truly been in a war.

“Tell me, love,” Sicheng whispered. “Did I make you like this?” He can’t help but frown, and there are so many emotions going through the older.

Yuta grabs his hands, pulling them away from his face. Now, he’s reaching for Sicheng’s face, tugging at his mask. The devil nods, letting Yuta pull down his mask for him.

“You’ve made me feel like this in the best way possible,” Yuta says with a strained voice. He takes a deep breath, eyes seemingly admiring everything about Sicheng’s face. The way his eyes flicker around, lovingly and dazed, but his emotions speak otherwise. How is this making Yuta feel so heartbroken in the best way possible?

“You’re so beautiful, I can’t lose you to this war,” He confessed. His hand plays with the flower crown, his other hand caressing Sicheng’s face. “When I saw you, I was blown away. Like… like time stopped, and I almost forgot about the world around just for a moment. You looked so natural and ceased the chaos around. And it hit me.” Yuta hiccups, fat tears streaming down his face, and Sicheng’s eyes are beginning to burn at the intensity of Yuta’s fondness, of his love.

“This may be the last few times I’ll ever be graced by your entirety, my love.”

Sicheng’s breath hitches.

What is Yuta trying to say? Is he implying what he thinks he is…?

His words are painful to swallow, and his eyes are welling in tears.

He feels like Yuta is trying to bid a farewell to him, and he never wants that. He doesn’t. He won’t let that happen. Over his fucking living self, he won’t let Yuta say his farewells in war.

Tears are streaming down his face like liquid flames, burning against his skin with despair.

“No, it won’t be,” He whispered in return, his throat constricting to the point it hurts to breathe. “Whatever happens… I’ll see you whether it’s soon or later. But never,” He sobs, holding onto Yuta’s arms.

“I know I can’t win you,” His eyes are so bittersweet and utterly pained. Why does he look at him like this? “But I just need to let you know how loving and beautiful you’ve always been.” Yuta keeps confessing like they’re never going to see each other.

“Stop, please,” Sicheng begs, shaking his head. He doesn’t want to face it. He can’t say such things in return.

“Love, I’m not forcing you or asking you to.” Then why is he saying it? Why is Yuta bidding his farewells? “This is something I’d like to say to you. Just in case.”

“Well, I don’t want it!” He cries. Fear and heartbreak claw at his throat, churning his stomach inside out from these tragic words.“Please, Yuta. Don’t— Don’t fucking talk like you’re going to die. Because I can’t imagine you dying. I can’t see a future without you. All of you.” Sicheng leans in closer, leans into Yuta’s warmth and presence.

He says it with the heaviest of his six hearts, clutching onto Yuta’s arms. In a broken voice of heartbreak and certainty, Sicheng says, “I love you.”

He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to voice his desperation. They just have to make it. They have to. Because he loves Yuta so much, he’s consumed by it. Consumed by all the intoxication that makes him feel alive and okay. That makes him understand his self-worth and what he has to offer. Just… living. Living and being himself is the reward of their love, and he embraces all of Yuta so, so much.

Yuta’s hands cup his face, and he’s looking at him, heartbroken and scared, yet he smiles proudly.

“I love you, I love you so much, I just have to voice the beauty of all of us. I—” Yuta shakes his head. “We’ve been together for three centuries, and that’s a long, long time.” He holds his breath before exhaling.

“Even so, I realized that three centuries isn’t enough with you.”

Sicheng is silent. He’s always been the perception of silence, but this— his silence grows unbearably loud, for nothing could describe how he could hold Yuta’s words right then and there. He almost loses it, almost lets them drift through the wind. He grasps with all the strength he has, his heartstrings clinging onto them for life.

Fucking hell. Yuta can’t go around saying the most beautiful and tragic things before him.

“Then let’s keep living,” Sicheng said. “Let’s keep fighting to live.” He means it, and he knows Yuta can feel it too.

Yuta’s lips break into a glorious smile, and Sicheng feels like he could overpower anything that stood in their way.

Sicheng leans forward and kisses Yuta, the flower crown jostling and falling right between their feet. Yuta immediately returns the kiss, a hand coming to cup the back of his nape strongly. He falls deeper and deeper into the eternal abyss of love.

They’re holding each other tightly, stronger than the forces fate could ever tread upon.

They can’t predict the future, but they’d like to imagine it together in the midst of all the destruction revolving around them.

For they are satanic races, and nothing more than could be blessed by the heavens, nor be saved by the flames of hell.

⚚

Finally, Taeyong returns from a leader meeting along with Dongyoung as the vice leader representing the Ubiquitous team. They’re each holding a scroll, still unopened, which means they aren’t sure whether they were selected or not.

“What did they say?” Mark asked as everyone stood up.

The two leaders are sitting down, sighing in defeat.

“They announced the future military plans of this war. They are choosing four supernatural teams to find Destiny’s Oblivion. It is to be used to kill the Emperor of Rocuria, Kim Bomin.” Taeyong summarizes the news.

Destiny’s Oblivion…

In the oldest texts, it was known as the Blade of Life. It’s the ultimate universal weapon of Ibareedom. A short-bladed weapon that can never be replicated or crafted ever again. To obtain this weapon, eight stones of Ibareedon will be obtained and brought to the shrine of Algar, located in Algar. There, you can unite the stone’s powers and bring forth the oblivion blade. Like in its name, you can obliterate the existence of any race into oblivion. One cut is all it takes. On the downside, this blade can be brought and used only once every century.

Basically, whoever wields it must not fuck up.

“And,” Taeyong’s brows furrow in confusion. “According to the Supernatural Grand Council, Kim Sunoo, the bloody terror, the second prince of Rocuria, is proven to be innocent. The selected teams are to retrieve him but are allowed to silence him if he betrays them.” Everyone looks around, confused. How in the world is the second prince even innocent?

“Are you shitting me? There’s no way.” Hendery crossed his arms.

“This is one of the most stupid things I’ve ever heard the Supernatural Grand Council announce. And I thought nothing could be stupider than them mixing up ranked missions.” Jeno sighed heavily at that.

“Yes, we can all agree on that.” Taeyong agrees. “Whatever is ordered must be carried out, no questions asked.” He reminds.

The order tickles all their brains. In such a corrupted family, shouldn’t Kim Sunoo just be equally evil? “What evidence do they even have against that?” Kun asks.

Dongyoung explains that the Supernatural Grand Council had sent the special task force to investigate the corrupted family for the past three decades. No wonder they haven’t initiated any action. They needed as much monitoring as possible. Still, they’re not too content with that plan. How could any supernatural do that?

“For the other supernatural teams,” Taeyong brings up. “They will be stationed in different empires to assist as much as possible when armies invade. But there is another rising issue of the matter that we are unfortunately familiar with.” He sighs, and Sicheng has an inkling. They all have that inkling feeling. “The increase of tabooed malevolent teams reaching to the strengths of numbered R’s.”

They remain silent, unfazed, much to everyone’s demise.

Johnny hums. “So… how many are taking on that issue?”

“There will be a side unit of three supernatural teams to take care of the case,” Dongoyung answered.

“Three is not enough! Oh my god! We’re doomed!” Donghyuck falls onto his knees in utter despair. That’s probably the most understandable reaction yet.

Most of all, four supernatural teams sound like blasphemy to take on the royal bloodline. They should just send all of them at once. But Mark explains to them that the Supernatural Grand Council doesn’t want to risk manpower as requested by every empire. That is why those who are not in highly ranked supernatural teams will remain in the armies.

“Which is why I said our position wouldn’t change at all,” Yuta reminded.

It cuts them down to the fact that they will indeed participate.

As much as Sicheng loves Yuta’s brilliance in this area of knowledge, he wishes it weren’t accurate.

Everyone gathers closer than ever, getting ready to see the results. Taeyong grasps the scroll that determines their fate, and Dongyoung grasps the scroll that has the list of teams and their roles.

It feels that they are boring their souls into the papers, wishing for the best. But they know no matter what, they will have to battle. A struggling one of that. They also don’t wish the worst upon those who will be chosen to face the royalty line.

No end will be happy, that’s a given.

Once Taeyong counts down, he and Dongyoung open the scrolls.

≪ °❈°≫≪ °❈° ≫

You, the Ubiquitous Guardians Team, have been selected as one of the three teams. Thank you for your service on behalf of Ibareedom.

≪ °❈°≫≪ °❈° ≫

The 4 Teams of the Oblivion War

Resilience
Bijou
Nexus
Chaos

The 3 Teams of Numbered R Case

Ubiquitous Guardians
Glory Wanderers
The Knightz

≪ °❈°≫≪ °❈° ≫

⚗︎

The air is thin; not many supernaturals can withstand such an environment, but for Sicheng, he could stand here for hours, staring at the stone engraved with his friends’ names. Yuta and Jisung would too, right beside him. Heck, here, they meet the drafted satanic men of the war. Yoongi, Jungkook, Minghao, Minho, Hyunjin, and Sunghoon. They’re also here to meet their fallen brethren. Who knows if they’ll come back?

“Fancy to see the drafted ones here,” Yoongi muses.

“It’s not a coincidence, that’s a given.” Minho offers a snarky response. The devil is sure to punch the younger if he so wished, but he would rather not in a sacred place like this.

Some split, walking on paths where they can offer almost one last goodbye.

Not to the living, but to the dead.

Sicheng feels oddly numb as he stares at Jaehyun’s and Jinrak’s graves.

How could it be? Perhaps it’s the fact that he knows Jaehyun’s body isn’t here. And Jinrak’s soul has reawakened in Chenle. Nonetheless, he came to visit with the intent to make some vows. Vows to return alive. For it’s too soon to see any of their friends just yet.

Sicheng isn’t sure how he feels about it. It’s… daunting, doing something like this as if he’s sure he won’t come back, but he needs to. To keep living in memory of his comrades and for his beloved Yuta. To make more endless memories of happiness.

“It’s odd, you know?” Jungkook starts speaking. “We’ve come a long way, and here, it feels as if time hasn’t moved.”

Perhaps so. Because everything still looks the same, just as the day they had buried Jinrak. When Yuta took him and Jisung to see Jaehyun turn into a stone. It feels the same to an eerie extent.

“I can’t believe that in everything… we’d be overcoming the concept of death in certain ways, don’t you think?”

“You’re right about that.” Yuta quietly comments.

“It's just something we all believe we need to do. I don’t mind it at all,” Jisung contentedly stands over Jinrak’s grave. He’s holding wilted flowers, but the gesture is the entire symbolism of the act. Appearances don’t pass in an environment as deadly as it is.

“Sorry, Jaehyun,” Yuta crouches with a sigh, wistfully grinning at the headstone. Sicheng kneels beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “But we’re not ready to join you anytime soon.”

“We miss you. Dongyoung is doing better than ever.”

“Now, now, let’s not get too sad,” Jungkook grins, joining them. Yoongi and Jisung shuffle closer, remaining standing. “Jae, you’ll be so proud of us. Watch me kick some ass.” The demon smiles widely.

“You mean us?” Yuta eyes the younger.

“Yeah, yeah. You still struggle to beat me.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Jisung places the wilted flowers on Jaehyun’s grave rather than Jinrak’s. No one comments. They all know that Jinrak has merged with Chenle, so why would they think of the man dead?

Although they tried to keep their lightheartedness in hopes of returning whenever the dark days passed, tension remained over time.

⚗︎

With them chosen, the Supernatural Grand Council requires the inclusion of any former members of supernatural teams who have departed.

Thus, requiring Shotaro and Sungchan to return to their team under force.

“I’m so sorry, you two don’t deserve this.” Taeyong apologized and bowed to the two leaders of the Rising Dawn team.

They’ve made such progress, put themselves out there, and, according to Jaemin, Shotaro has been leading the team effortlessly. Sungchan is the vice leader, and Hendery will frequently talk about his fellow goblin’s progression.

The couple shakes their heads, beckoning the demigod to stand up.

“We don’t resent you or the council for any of this. If anything, we’re grateful to do anything in our power to stop this chaos.”

Shotaro solemnly smiles, nodding to the Ubiquitous Guardians.

Sungchan places a hand on his mate’s shoulder. “It’s nice to see everyone again as a whole. Though I’m sure we didn’t want a reunion to happen like this.” He looks colder, toughened up, but still so sad.

“Thank you for your cooperation and coming back,” Mark thanked the couple.

“We’re glad to come home,” Shotaro agreed so easily, and it felt like something lost had been regained. It’s not complete, but there’s a relief that washes over everyone. Taeyong and Dongoyoung end up crying from his beautiful words, and everyone becomes tearful.

“Oh, Shotaro!” Jaemin goes over to hug his childhood friend, and Hendery is greeting Sungchan.

Eventually, they would introduce Kun to the couple.

“Ah, it’s finally good to meet you, Kun. We’ve heard many things about you from the others, but you’ve built a reputation yourself.” Sungchan greets the other.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you two,” Kun bows.

“I don’t think it’s a pleasure at all in this situation,” Sicheng hears Ten whisper, and he fights a snort coming from himself.

“You seem quite strong for someone so young!” Shotaro commented. That’s when he gets snatched away by Yuta, the demon, greeting the phoenix.

“You have no idea how much you are missed!” Sicheng watches, glad to see the two reunite. Then he, Jungwoo, and Ten are greeting Sungchan.

“Whoa, you guys look the same.”

“Thanks. We’re immortals.” Jungwoo reminded.

“Yeah, but can’t you, like, change appearances over the years?”

“I like my simplicity and originality,” Ten said.

“Just say you’re lazy.” The siren gasps and fakes a sob.

“My Sichengie just insulted me!”

Whatever, it’s not like Sicheng doesn’t swat people away with his words. He turns to Sungchan, offering the goblin a fist bump.

At least they’ll be fighting with people they trust. But what about the other teams? Sicheng knows of the immortals mostly. Of course, it’s going to be Yoongi, Jungkook, Minghao, Minho, Chan, Hyunjin, Sunghoon, and Riki for the satanic races. As for the divine, he’s well acquainted with Seungcheol and Jeonghan. He’s heard of Park Jimin, the spirit charmer, Lee Sangyeon, the eminence, Jacob Bae, the compassionate, Kim Younghoon, the fortune, Han Jisung, the poet, and Hueningkai*, the fulminator.*

The rest of the others, he doesn’t know a thing about them besides their names and notable journeys.

⚗︎

“Love?” Yuta calls to Sicheng.

It’s dawn, the day to gather with the six other teams. The younger huffs, unable to turn away from the scenery before him. He’s kneeling on the engawa, watching the sun rise higher. He couldn’t sleep, restless as worries enveloped his mind with unforeseen nightmares he’d never predict. Yuta’s signature grows stronger, enveloping him in familiarity and protection.

He knows his mate couldn’t sleep either, trying to keep himself distracted by tidying up the house even though there was nothing to tidy since Sicheng had stressed-cleaned long before.

Yuta kneels beside him, dressed and ready.

He doesn’t want to leave this place. It’s their home. A beautiful home that captured the beauty of solitude and nature. Surrounded by so much, it seemed to be isolated from the chaotic world they both dreaded and loved. It’s been a place where they could whisper their love, kiss away, and laugh in bliss. All hidden from the world that would look down on too much happiness and love. Too weak, too vulnerable.

Sicheng has nothing to say. But that’s also not quite right. He just can’t formulate what he wants to say, because there’s so much he wishes, and he can’t put all of his wishes out of his throat from his chest.

But he’s sure Yuta can feel the summer storm within him.

“We have an hour left,” Yuta softly said. His hand touches his, and Sicheng complies, interlacing their hands. This is something he’s going to desperately miss as he tries to enjoy holding Yuta’s hand. After a few moments of silence, Sicheng nods and gets up, heading over to their room where he laid out his combat suit and equipment.

Once he’s got everything fitted in place, he looks over at the entrance of the bedroom. Yuta is leaning against the doorway, solemn eyes watching from afar. Sicheng hates the distant feeling, and so he treads over, hugging Yuta tightly. The older’s strong arms wrap around him, and Yuta tugs down at his collar, kissing his emblem, soft and fluttering.

He fights back his tears and leans into Yuta’s neck, kissing his emblem against his skin, and the demon’s grip on him tightens in a painful way that lets Sicheng breathe.

“Ready?” Yuta asks in a hoarse voice.

The devil has to take in a heavy breath, pulling away to caress Yuta’s beautiful face. He eventually nods, and his fingers tremble just the slightest. He’s grateful Yuta doesn’t point it out even in silence. He lets him express his fear, and he acknowledges it with wavering eyes.

They exit their home hand-in-hand.

But Sicheng stops, turning back. He forgot to do one last thing.

“I’ll be back.” Yuta nods and lets Sicheng blitz into their home.

He tries his best to suppress his racing hearts, the jitteriness in his hands as he goes into the kitchen to open a drawer. Most of all, he does his best to numb his emotions.

He knows Yuta won’t touch the kitchen drawers, the devil warning him not to touch his items in the kitchen and leave them be. At least, to not mess with the items in the drawers. The appliances on the counters and shelves were the complete exception, for he needed the tidiness.

Sicheng carefully pulls out a custom-designed periwinkle grimoire. He compiled all of his recipes within the book, leaving tabs of favorites noted by Yuta. Even the healthy meals were tabbed.

He color-coded all of them, left notes, and tiny drawings within them.

He places the grimoire on a bookstand on the kitchen counter.

Lastly, he places an envelope on the countertop in front of it, labeled:

≪ °❈°≫≪ °❈° ≫

To My Eternity, love yourself with as much care

≪ °❈°≫≪ °❈° ≫

He knows Yuta will hate him for this. As much as Sicheng argued against the ‘just-in-case’ situation, he is a hypocrite when it comes to love. He won’t confront it like how Yuta did. He doesn’t have the strength like his mate to do so. So, he’ll leave behind traces of himself. Not too much, for if anything does happen to him, he doesn’t want to give Yuta a hard time healing.

This is enough.

Just a grimoire of Sicheng’s recipes and a letter.

He can’t do what he did in the Cursed War. Sicheng had thought about leaving more traces behind once again, but just standing in their home, he knew the very place itself would reek of him in memory.

Sicheng can’t even hide the fact that he bawled his eyes out while writing everything. Even when trying to numb his emotions, it was impossible when it came to Yuta. So, he asked Kun to temporarily compose an enchantment that would numb his emblem whenever Yuta returned to the Vraxorid Empire.

He thanks his leader so much, and he’s so grateful to trust the wizard, although the human looked so heartbroken when he explained his intentions.

𖤍

“Are you sure?” Kun frowned, glancing at his staff.

“Please,” Sicheng signed. “I just have to.”

The human observes him, eyes drifting to the coffee table, flickering around in hesitation.

“You may not have known me for all of your life, and I know that Yuta has been a part of yours for so long, you… You two live in harmony like one soul.” Sicheng listens, but he’s unsure what the leader is getting at with this perception. “Despite that, I have known you for most of my life as a human, and I can tell with this much,” He takes a deep breath, eyes gleaming in tears. “You love with the greatest grace I could never imagine.”

Of course, he’d say such things. Sicheng doesn’t disagree, but he can’t say it’s graceful. Quite messy in fact, but that’s just how he is.

“Sicheng, are you aware that you’re going to be Yuta’s lifelong heartbreak?”

Kun’s words strike him like lightning, electrifying his position on what he’s doing. Perhaps he knew it all, but didn’t want to shine light on it.

His love can never be distant between life and death.

Now that Kun puts it on the table, he must admit it. Whether it’s beautifully heartbreaking or painfully tragic.

“I know, and Yuta is my life.”

Kun visibly breathes in a sharp breath after Sicheng places his hands down, before cursing under his breath. The younger knows exactly what he means, and he won’t elaborate further. “Fucking hell… I can’t stop you when you love him so much.” Tears stream down the human’s face, and Sicheng approaches his friend, pulling him into a hug.

“But I can’t imagine losing any of you. You’re all so lovely and deserving.” He continues to cry, and Sicheng is terribly sorry for the man who hasn’t lived a fulfilled life. He doesn’t need to be a part of this bloodshed.

“You’re a wonderful person to be around with, Kun. Of all the times we’ve shared memories, I loved them all.”

𖤍

When Sicheng returns to Yuta’s side, they take a few steps and stop, turning around to admire their home. This may be the last time they’re seeing it; home.

All the memories of laughter, love, heartbreak, and grief. It’s been a journey, and a beautiful one to cherish within these walls. The bamboos that swayed and stood strongly over the walkways. The pathway around the lake where they’d walk together, hand-in-hand. The kitchen where they’d cook and bake was in chaos and fun. Remembering the soft sheets and blankets that smelled of them. The living room patio that sat them and their friends. The engawa they loved to lounge on, basking in the sunlight and moonlight, sipping on some home-brewed tea.

The artwork that Yuta would create whenever he had free time.

The lovely gifts given by their friends were displayed on shelves.

The sack of letters that sits calmly as a display of the family’s resilience in everything the world tries to consume them.

The variety of tea leaves they have collected throughout their youth, up to the very present.

They have lived such a beautiful journey together; he hopes with all of his hearts that there’s still some left in the future.

⚚

The drafted seven teams gather in the Supernatural Guildhall.

Where Lee Taeyong, the guardian of heaven, leads the Ubiquitous Guardians.

Choi Seungcheol, the grand behemoth, leads the Bijou team.

Lee Sangyeon, the eminence, leads The Knightz.

Kim Namjoon, the crimson dragon, leads the Resilience team.

Bangchan, the assiduous, leads the Glory Wanderers.

Yang Jungwon, the miracle, leads the Nexus team.

Choi Soobin, the exorbitant, leads the Chaos team.

It’s nerve-racking, and it shows for almost everyone. However, they’re waiting for one last person to show up—the Nexus team’s leader.

“Know where he is?” Sangyeon is the first to ask.

Everyone turns to look at Prince Park Jongseong, the golden dragon, who’s unsure. He just arrived from the Smouldering Faction after bidding farewell to his father. “Jungwon told me to immediately come here after visiting my father.”

Almost everyone’s gaze narrows, worry beginning to rise. The young leader is known for being a punctual man. They might send a few of them over to Addersfield.

“Okay, we’ll head back,” Joshua announces, gesturing to himself and the faes.

“Be careful.” The leaders call in unison. They nod and turn to leave the guildhall. Right as Felix reaches for the door handle, it swings open, the faes jumping in surprise.

There, Jungwon reveals himself, panting. He looks quite shaken, but not many notice when he covers it quickly with a grin and greets everyone.

Sicheng knows acting all too well than he’d like. Unfortunately, he’s not close to the leader, but he can tell Sunghoon saw it from his expressionless face and focused gaze.

“Apologies, my father was quite upset about the whole drafting,” Jungwon explained.

“Well then,” Taeyong takes everyone’s attention. “Let the meeting commence.”

They gather according to their selected roles in the war.

On the right stand the four teams to challenge the royal bloodline of Rocuria. The Resilience, the Bijou, the Chaos, and the Nexus teams.

On the left stand the three teams tasked with challenging and eradicating the numbered R’s registered in certain cities of Ibareedom: The Ubiquitous Guardians, The Knightz, and the Glorious Wanderers teams.

“To start… we have a list of certain targets.” Sangyeon is looking at the scroll, and his expression hardens, almost passing for a frown, when it’s a shock. “Uh, we have a total of fifteen.”

Immediately, there are people standing up in utter disbelief.

Fifteen people of numbered R ranks are absolutely insane!

It could fulfill half of the current population of numbered R ranks. Which were practically royals.

Something holes out in the back of Sicheng’s mind as he comprehends just the introduction of their objectives. That’s just fucking insane. He looks over at his members, who grow stiff, gulping, and staring ahead.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s too many. After the Reaver Maiden incident, they practically multiplied!”

“Yes, unfortunately, we are stating what is recorded.” Bangchan sighs heavily, rubbing his temples.

“Let us compile a plan as efficiently as possible.” Taeyong, Sangyeon, and Bangchan turn to each other and begin to fall in whispers.

“Oh, we are so fucked. We don’t even need plans. Let’s just go in blindly I say.” Minho is the first to prompt.

“Hell, how are you the vice leader?”

Minho glances at Hyunjin and the older squeaks, hiding behind Changbin.

“No, no, we need plans,” Jacob assured. He sounds too calm and lighthearted compared to Jungwoo, but maybe that’s because Sicheng knows Jungwoo personally.

“What kind of plan do you expect from those three?” Eric Son, the intuitive, asked.

“Weird.”

“Stupid.”

“Insane.”

The most agreeable responses anyone could never deny.

Taeyong clears his throat, and everyone redirects their attention to the leaders.

“We will be sorting everyone into teams of twos and threes.”

Sicheng can’t help but be confused by that, and he senses Yuta’s confusion as well.

“I think I should have planned.” The demon whispers to Sicheng. The devil fights a grin, and he’s seeing the older grin as well. But in all seriousness, this is the best plan? To dwindle their numbers against such powerful people?

“I think I must object.” Yuta stands up alongside Minho, Choi Chanhee, the endeavor, Kun, and Kevin Moon, the ambitious.

“Why is that?” Sangyeon raises a brow.

“Unfortunately, I just can’t understand why you would implement this method. Sure, we are all powerful people, but against people, whose ranks may vary across the scales, how are we so sure that a team of two or three could eliminate the threats?” Anger flickers across Sicheng’s emblem. “It’s suicide.”

“The chances of both winning and surviving are terribly low,” Chanhee adds on. “Us healers are very limited in stamina on top of keeping others alive.”

“We have taken account into that, we can assure that,” Bangchan calmly stated.

“Then why? Are you trying to get us killed?” Kevin stomps the end of his staff, dissatisfied.

“I’m beginning to believe that you’re gambling with our lives.” Kun calls out.

The leaders don’t look ashamed at all. In fact, they nod.

“It’s a must. As a leader, anything we plan is a gamble for the best outcome,” Sangyeon explains.

“We have dedicated our lives to Ibareedom whether we were bound to the role of knights or chose the path of it. Above all, we are dedicating a future from further despair.” Taeyong speaks so strongly, and yet his eyes looked pinched.

“We’re doing our all to protect you, but there’s only so much we can do,” Bangchan admits.

“Is there anything you’d like to propose?” Taeyong raises a brow at those who stand.

“Apologies, but I must respond with another question to yours.” Kun sighed. “How are we going to be sorted?”

Now, what does Kun mean by that? Sure, they will be split up, but he’s taking it into a different approach of methods. Like variety. Variety?

“Glad you asked that,” Bangchan snaps his fingers. “We’re sorting you guys by random!”

Silence.

“I hope you’re fucking joking,” Seungmin glares at his mate.

“Of course we are.”

“Well, not really,” Sangyeon interjects. “There is an uneven distribution, so some of us may have to put you guys together. We’ll do our best to accommodate the connections, but we’re also trying to keep ya’ll alive by matching each other’s abilities, personalities, and strengths.”

No one says anything. Not even those who have objected.

Sicheng looks up at Yuta, who’s tongue is poking of the inside of his cheek. Conflict and hesitation rests, and the devil has nothing to say. Has nothing else to question.

It’s settled.

They begin announcing who they will be partnered with, and one by one, people are looking at one another, acknowledging their in-death partners already.

“Sicheng and Shotaro.”

Interesting. He hadn’t expected he’d be paired with the phoenix, but they also work pretty well together the last time he remembered. It’s been about six decades now that he recalls it. He looks over at the younger, and their gazes meet. Shotaro has always been a soft and kind man. Brilliant and powerful. Even now, in this tensed room, the younger shows off his signature adoring smile, and Sicheng relaxes just the slightest, nodding at his partner.

Yuta gets paired up with Jungwoo, and the demon is rolling his eyes, glaring at the angel. “I’m getting my ass whooped.” He doesn’t elaborate further, and Sicheng gets what he means immediately. Yeah, good luck getting healed and shamed at the same time.

“We will individually hand over some intel of your targets, get with your partners, and plan ahead.”

So, the leaders depart and return to their teams. Taeyong hands each of them scrolls, and Sicheng is peering over Shotaro’s shoulder as the younger unrolls it, quickly skimming the information.

They’re locating a demon that has so far reached the signature levels of R four.

That’s so fucking high. Too high for just the two of them. Sicheng is still ranked S+, most likely his rank for the rest of his life but he doesn’t care. And Shotaro is currently ranked R.

“It’s okay, Hyung. We’ve got this,” Shotaro ever the positive man, smiles and pats his back.

“Well, I’m not okay.” They hear Sungchan right beside them. “I’m stuck with Jaemin.”

“Whaaat? I’m super strong. I get to be partners with my childhood friend’s man, too. So I get to question your ass if you’ve been treating Taro just as well.”

“Is that even a question???”

With everyone falling into planning and greeting their partners, they regather with the other thirty-one men to conclude their meeting.

The three leaders explain their plans, and the others all look at them in shock. Shock in terms of numbers. But it seems some people hadn’t listened much.

“That’s fucking insane, how is this possible?!” Soonyoung stands up. “Wouldn’t news get out?”

Almost everyone looks at the sphinx with a deadpanned look, the room silent.

“Someone didn’t pay attention on the day of drafting.” Ten remarks.

“I heard that!” The older eyes the other, who shrugs.

“They’re keeping it on the downlow. Hidden reports detecting high registers of unknown magical signatures in various areas of Ibareedom. Seemingly similar to the Reaver Maidens incident.” Sangyeon explains.

“Well, except most of us didn’t know,” Mark adds.

Seungcheol, Namjoon, Jungwon, and Soobin inform the three teams that they have distributed capturing the eight stones of Ibareedom in order to summon Destiny’s Oblivion.

With that, everyone comes to a conclusion at the end of the meeting.

⚚

Now, they’re bidding farewell to their other comrades they’ve made along the way.

“I’ll see you, got it?” Sunghoon says to Jisung, patting the man on his back.

“You bet it,” The taller responds. Sunghoon turns to Sicheng, exchanging a quick friendly hug with the older. Sicheng can feel the younger’s tensed muscles, knowing how frightful it is to fight in something as serious once again. After all these years, it seems they’ll be reawakening their bloodlusting instincts.

With the thought of bloodlusting instincts, he can’t help but dread the past as he embraces Sunghoon. The younger reminds him a lot of Jisung. A little more composed and nerdy as hell, but he has potential just as much as he.

He has to warn him.

“Don’t lose control, you hear?” He whispers. Sunghoon pulls away, eyes wide as saucers. Sicheng can’t help but think he looks kind of ridiculous. He can see the amount of questions flying through the other’s eyes. Well, if he has questions, this is his only chance, because this may be the last time they’ll ever see each other.

"You're not mute?"

A wise question to ask amongst all.

The older wistfully smiles, shaking his head.

"Traumatic mutism. But I just needed you to hear my advice. It's important."

He glances at Yoongi and Minghao, knowing the older will monitor the devil. “Don’t let your rage consume you or it will drag in those you cherish,” He means it by hearts. Jisung equally nods in agreement.

That’s when Jisung suddenly pulls Sunghoon to the side, whispering something.

Sunghoon pulls away, brows furrowing in disbelief.

“Are you shitting me? At all times, you tell me now?” What the hell did Jisung tell him?

“Yes, I am.” Jisung grins, but it falls short, a frown replacing it. “Really, you never know if you’ll have to resort to it.”

“You know how badly I want to punch you right now?”

“A lot.” Sicheng answers for Jisung, getting between the two. He eyes his teammate and Jisung sheepishly shrugs like an innocent man. Then he jumps right back to the main topic with Sunghoon. “Take care, okay?”

Sicheng then moves on to go over to Minghao, and the younger immediately pulls him into a hug.

“You’ve got this, Sicheng. I believe in you.” When they pull away, facing each other, he sees the other’s tearful gaze.

It’s odd to think back to the old days. When they were youthful and didn’t fear about their lives.

Now, Minghao fears for him and so many others. But they just have to keep hoping like never before.

Sicheng pats his shoulder, signing, “Don’t worry so much. You have your own team to keep alive and other comrades,” He cocks his head where Jisung and Sunghoon are with Hyunjin.

Minghao scoffed. “And I can’t worry for my best friend?” Ever the dramatic but amazing friend.

“Have faith in me like I do for you. How about that?” An accommodation.

“Sure, but I’m always going to look out for you.” Sicheng’s eyes begin to grow tearful as well. He’s so blessed to have such amazing friends.

He must tell his lifelong friend as well.

“Thank you, Hao. Thank you for everything.” He pulls him into another hug, and he knows the younger is fighting to refrain from crying.

“I finally get to hear your voice after all these years. How dare you do this to me?” He acts all accusingly, and they’re both chuckling.

It’s light and yet so heavy of emotions. Sicheng doesn’t apologize, because he thinks Minghao appreciates this so much more than Sicheng would ever realize.

“Remember that you mustn’t feel in debt of everything that I do for you. Or else you wouldn’t understand how much in debt I am to you.” Sicheng looks at him, confused. What has Sicheng done to make Minghao feel as if he owes him so much? He doesn’t get to ask, because Wonwoo is apologetically pulling the devil away.

“My apologies, but Seungcheol needs to gather the thirteen of us. You know how hectic it is with a lot of people.” Sicheng would know that along with the Ubiquitous Guardians.

Minghao hugs him and whispers, “Your voice is so beautiful, thank you for letting me hear it once more.”

They part and bid farewell, and as Sicheng walks over to his teammates, they’re either crying, laughing, or doing both things at the same time in hearty spirits. They’re so beautiful.

Yuta is patting Riki’s shoulders, both of them grinning.

“Go wild like never before, Riki.”

“Oh, yes, I will.”

Absolutely not, dear Satan, Riki would probably combust the entire planet. Sicheng joins their side, and they greet him with bright smiles.

“Take care, Riki.” Sicheng pats his head, and the taller nods with a wider grin.

“I won’t disappoint!”

And they know it. Riki pulls him into a side hug. “You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. I’ll be sending my luck over to you, too, Hyung!”

Touched, Sicheng nods and he and Yuta join their team once they’re departing from the guildhall.

“So long, everyone! Don’t get killed in battle, ya hear that?” Kevin shouts.

Everyone cheers for one another, bidding their farewells and vows to each other.

⚚

“Okay, everyone, I know Jeno and Chenle aren’t here since they’re partnered up with the others, but I wish you all the best.” Taeyong wistfully grins. “Give your hardest and never give up, remember?”

“No matter how difficult things may get, we have each other in spirit.” Dongyoung offers a saddened smile, but at least the effort to bring optimism was taken to heart.

Sicheng glances over at Jisung, who’s clutching his scroll in a vice grip. He’s wistfully smiling, but his body gives him away. He must be fighting a tremendous opponent given the fact he’s partnered with Taeyong.

He also thinks the other pairings aren’t too bad given the ranks of their opponents as well.

Like Johnny and Mark taking on someone numbered seven, which is wow. So could Jisung be fighting a numbered ten? The strongest of all?

His hands grow clammy at the thought of standing in the presence of lethal signatures.

He could barely breathe at the rank of four!

“Let’s see each other soon, got it?” Taeyong smiles, and everyone raises their fists in the air, cheering and saying their vows.

As Sicheng is about to approach Shotaro, the phoenix is snatched by Sungchan, the goblin pulling him away to talk to his mate.

That’s when Sicheng is pulled to the side and blitzed into an empty alleyway by none other than Yuta. Without a single thought, Sicheng pulls the demon into a tight embrace. He wants to keep Yuta close to him, away from all the destruction and chaos this mission will bring.

He gets choked up, unsure if he’s able to let Yuta go. This may actually be the last time he’ll get to be held like a lifeline. Held in preciousness that lets him ascend higher than any satanic race could ever imagine. But he wants to hope, and he’ll reach for it for as long as he’ll breathe.

Yuta’s arms are shaking around him, and Sicheng cups his face, tears falling between them. The older presses him against the stone-brick wall and pulls down his mask to capture his lips. Sicheng lets his mate lead on, desperation on the tips of their claws as they try to hold time against its will. Sicheng softly sobs against his lips, and Yuta’s hands caress him in graciousness. The devil is wiping his lover’s tears away, and they’re just a terrible mess in the silence of morning.

Through kisses, Sicheng reaches to touch Yuta’s chest, to locate all of his seven hearts throughout his torso. He prays the older never has to resort to sacrificing his hearts. He can’t imagine the guilt Yuta would go through, fighting against all resorts that lead to both of them in pain. The younger knows he was lucky that the concealing patches had prevented the whiplash of his sacrifice.

Yuta’s hand finds his, and he’s kissing them, maintaining a tearful and anguished gaze.

He can’t do this to him. Yuta can’t be giving him all of this right before they’re about to leave. All of it hurts too much to witness and feel.

Yet Sicheng begs for it to last, and he’s kissing Yuta fervently, and now Yuta’s hands reciprocate his gesture, reaching out towards his six hearts. Especially where his first should exist, right in the center of his chest. He feels anger and guilt flicker across his emblem, and Sicheng is the one taking Yuta’s hand, bringing it up to hold his face. He’s holding onto each other’s gaze, shakily breathing, and silently crying as they make up what’s left of time.

Yuta is so beautiful from the inside and out, it hurts in so many ways he can’t fathom. Somehow, he still stands to bear it all.

Before Sicheng even confesses, it feels like a sudden heartbreak, his chest unknowingly pouring out his worries right before Yuta.

“I love you,” Sicheng whispers.

Please be okay.

“I love you too.”

Please come back to me.

⚚

Jisung and Johnny eventually had to pull them apart, and Sicheng was left standing beside Shotaro. The phoenix was evidently crying as well, but he looked at Sicheng, smiling through tearful eyes as always.

“We’re going to get it,” He says with a strained voice. Warmth and hope fill his chest, and he nods at Shotaro.

They stand at the teleportation altar, Shotaro shouting, “Eagleburgh town, Ravenfront City, Pheattotia Empire.” Their bodies dissipate in thin air, and Sicheng smiles at those who haven’t left yet, and they’re all silently crying, waving their goodbyes. Even Yuta, standing next to Jungwoo, cries with a heavier heartbreak than ever before.

The next thing he knows, they’re in a new environment. The Pheattotia Empire is incredibly rocky, with not much greenery or trees. The air is surprisingly breathable despite the high altitudes where this empire resides. With constant magic energy released into the atmosphere, phoenixes have made the atmosphere abide by the phoenix’s constant flight.

Sicheng has never been in this particular city, though, but they’re close to the borders of the Pheattotia Empire, where it meets the outskirts, amongst the Trolevaria, Avrotus, and Vraxorid empires is just across. Not to mention, there aren’t a lot of citizens roaming. They most likely evacuated to empires deemed to be safer, just in case Rocuria does, in fact, unleash another wave of attacks upon whichever empires.

“You two look so in love,” Shotaro softly whispered. “Watching you two from the moment I joined… You guys truly amaze me.”

Sicheng wipes away his tears, nodding and placing a hand on the younger’s shoulder. “You and Sungchan are just as beautiful together.” Really, he’s seen the way those two look at each other, soft and endeared. The way they talk about and embrace each other, the softest he thinks he’ll ever see of Shotaro.

The other sighs heavily, sniffling. “The things love does to your heart are indescribable. But I can’t complain, because it’s so beautiful and everything.”

All of its beauty, ugliness, and chaos.

⚚

They scour the city as best as possible, but there’s too much ground to cover for just two people. It’s frustrating because this is all the information they can rely on:

A signature’s rank of four, descriptions of a hooded figure, and traces of satanic signatures. Just great. A demon to fight. Well, that’s the best assumption Sicheng can make since they’re literally near the Vraxorid Empire.

Eventually, when it’s evening, he returns to where he and Shotaro agreed to return.

“Anyone could wear hooded clothes.” Shotaro cursed, crumpling the paper.

“Not to mention that people can literally conceal their signatures by will.”

The younger groans and drags his hands against his face.

“Okay, let’s find a place to establish a hideout,” Shotaro quickly points out first. “As much as we could just hide in an inn, we can’t be around a densely populated area of innocent citizens.” Sicheng easily agrees. After all these years, Shotaro is showcasing his leadership skills he’s learned from the Ubiquitous Guardians and refining them with the Rising Dawn team.

“You know, you’ve grown so much. I’m proud of you,” Sicheng points out.

“What do you mean?”

“I remember when you asked for my insight of what it’s like being a leader. Look at you now. Leading away like a natural.” The younger smiles, eyes casting.

“Awe, thank you, hyung. Without you and the others, I wouldn’t have been where I am now.”

“You should tell me more about your team and your journeys when we settle.” Sicheng gestures to the town. “We have quite the variety of hiding locations.”

“I think I came across one. It’s a small forest, just across the river.” He lets the phoenix lead him away, and once they’re clearing the area of any lingering threats, they come across an abandoned fort, which is perfect.

They settle down, exhaling as they get a mental break.

The cool air isn’t too bad, and it seems both of them are unaffected. Sicheng being a satanic race form the hottest lands, and Shotaro living in this empire for his entire life.

They continue their conversation, and Shotaro looks so proud and excited when he talks about his teammates.

“It’s not such a large team like the Ubiquitous Guardians, but it’s just as lovely.” Shotaro grins.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Shotaro shifts and stretches, and his face grown solemn. “How’s Jungwoo doing by the way?” Ah, Shotaro and Sungchan were informed about Lucas’s death, and they came by to pay their respects for their fallen friend.

“He’s been better. I don’t know if you couldn’t tell, but he’s got most of himself back.”

Every piece of you is taken away from someone you’ve cherished. So, it’s wrong to say that Jungwoo has all of himself back together.

“He does seem a lot better, and I’m glad. But,” Shotaro glances to the side. “It’s still surreal that… there’s us left, you know?” Sicheng tilts his head, frowning, but he doesn’t disagree. “Doesn’t it feel unfair? You and the older teammates have built this team and watched all that’s happened. You guys are stronger than ever.”

Sicheng wonders if the younger is silently saying something. Because all the times he’s remembered talking to Shotaro, he hasn’t sounded this… regretful? Guilty? Sicheng crawls over, kneeling in front of his friend.

“Is there something you want to talk about?” He’d like to help if he can. But only if the younger trusts him.

Shotaro looks at him for a bit, thinking. Then he glances to the entrance of the fortress, and eventually nods. His frown has mellowed out into a neutral gaze, but his eyes show the clouded sadness.

“I lost my teammate a few years ago.” He’d said it with a heaviness that had remained for what could feel like an eternity. “It was a ranked R mission. And… I couldn’t do anything. I still feel guilty and I wish I could turn back time to prevent what went wrong.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Shotaro nods, falling into a wet laughter.

“You’re so strong, Hyung. And I hope I’ll be able to see past it soon.”

Sicheng pulls him into a hug, rubbing his back as the younger softly cries. Nothing is ever easy in healing, but he’s glad to be here for someone to be heard.

When dusk falls, Sicheng had laid Shotaro to rest, the other softly snoozing. They talked for a while, reminiscing the past, and laughing at old memories. Even facing the present memories. With all the tears and heartbreaks of today, they quickly caught up to the leader first, leaving him exhausted.

Sicheng wipes away the tears stains on Shotaro’s face. Once he’s finished, he stands up, his legs feeling weak as he goes over to his bag. His hearts are racing as he kneels to search for something. Something terrible and utterly revolting.

Disgust claws at his chest and throat as his hands shake, reaching for a roll of patches.

He loathes these innovations. The method itself is terribly cruel to himself and so many others. He isn’t sure if he can do it again. But he’s thought about it so much, he had to get Yoongi and Minghao for their help.

𖤍

“You can’t be serious,” Minghao says, looking at him, horrified. “Why would you turn back to those things?!” He takes off his glasses, turning his head away. “I can’t even look at you right now.” Even if they are all satanic beings that could enhance their vision, Minghao’s magic relies on his eyes. The strain could only do so much, and this is one of the many examples of the price of strength.

Sicheng sits with his head held low. Yeah, he expected that type of reaction coming from his friend.

“Honestly, I think he has a more valid usage of them than us. I think.” Yoongi chimes in.

“You think?” Minghao deadpanned. “I think Yuta will finally have the courage to hit me for letting Sicheng use those.”

“But think about it. They’re more prone to sacrificing their hearts with the amount of numbered R’s they must face. We only need to worry about vampires and four numbered R’s.” That’s exactly what Sicheng had also thought when coming up with a way to avoid inflicting pain upon Yuta.

Minghao is silent, and he leans over to squint at Sicheng. After a long moment of silence and thinking, he says, “We’ll find a way to get them under one condition.” Sicheng can’t help but frown in frustration.

“What conditions? This is my choice, and none of this will affect you!”

“It’s your recklessness, Sicheng!” Minghao slams his hand against the table, leaving an imprint behind. “The number of times you have nearly died, been brutally injured, and most of all, sacrificed hearts— it’s all reckless!” Minghao is exploding in anger, and his signature thickens around them. “I’m not saying you’re weak. You’re strong and capable, but Sicheng, the fact that you are relying on those concealing patches is enough to tell us that you will, in fact, do it. But so recklessly, you will die with a guarantee.”

He leans back, instilling a sharp breath. Sicheng can’t believe all of the things Minghao is saying. Truth after truth ties him in his seat.

“Yuta loves you so much. I think I get sick when just looking at you two. But that’s not the important part. It’s about the way you two cherish each other to the brink of your lives. This is where it goes downhill.” The youngest takes a deep breath. “One of you will die whether it’s the war or after— anytime given. And I know you, Sicheng.”

If Sicheng thought he has seen Minghao furious, then he certainly hasn’t until now. His eyes are flickering hues of yellow, veins protruding from his temples and neck as he’s yelling with contorted expressions.

“If Yuta dies, you’ll die.”

His words leave an iciness shrill within his chest, and his throat constricts as he looks at his best friend. He doesn’t have to point that shit out. Sicheng knows. But now that Minghao puts it out there as if the world could hear, he wants to leave the room this instance. He could have said it any other way, but that’s not Minghao’s approach at all. He’s always been a straightforward friend.

This is why Sicheng will only ever say Yuta is his life.

He looks over at Yoongi, whose face is solemn, sympathetic.

He bites his tongue, lifting his hands.

“Yes, and?”

“You’re risking your love.” Yoongi eventually cuts in. Sicheng looks at him, but doesn’t budge. He wants to hear more about what he’s thinking. “If Yuta finds out, then he’ll not only be heartbroken, but also lose trust in you.”

No.

Sicheng’s hands clench into fists.

Yuta wouldn’t lose faith in him like that. They’ve known each other for so long, fell into each other’s comfort zone and own language. Understood what wasn’t said and what had to be said. Sicheng believes Yuta wouldn’t be too surprised if he had the chance of finding out.

Heartbroken? Yes. Lost in faith? No.

They have their own intentions of protecting each other, and Sicheng never likes to voice his methods or intentions if it was brilliant and risky. Yuta would know that much.

“He wouldn’t. I know Yuta. He knows me. In any case that I die, know that it would be in love and duty.”

Take from what you make of my statement.

“I am unwilling to move on until I’ve come to get what I requested.”

They sit in silence for what feels like forever. Yoongi is looking at him, more observantly as he contemplates. Most likely coming up with scenarios. Then there’s Minghao seething and glaring at him, even when he can barely see him.

Yoongi is the first to exhale, getting up from his seat. “We can’t win you. As much as we adore you and care for you. You’ve always been quite the stubborn man. By all means of good intentions.”

“The same could be said for us,” Minghao grumbles. The younger gets up and approaches Sicheng, and he wonders if Minghao is going to strangle the hell out of him like those times he leaves the younger absolutely fed up with his actions.

Instead, Minghao touches his shoulder, gentle and comforting. Sicheng is completely shocked, staring at his best friend with widened eyes. Even after all the raging and differing opinions about this situation, he will always stand by his side. “You certainly know Yuta better than we do. We can’t fight that. But know that I will always be looking out for you.”

Dear Satan. Why does he have to say such things to him?

Sicheng stands up and hugs his best friend, and they hold each other tightly.

“But I must ask,” Sicheng signed once he pulled away. “Would you wear it? If it meant protecting Junhui?”

Minghao wistfully smiles, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can do that. I hate those things so damn much. Plus, I need to know if he’s safe. As for sacrificing… well, he’s no stranger to it.”

Sicheng nods, understanding. As much as he’d like to keep a check of Yuta’s emotions and distress, he can’t afford the worst scenario. Plus, sacrificing would further distract and weaken one or the other, a lot worse if they were in a life-threatening situation.

This is Sicheng’s best approach.

𖤍

He tears one off and peels the backing apart. Taking a deep and shuddering breath, he pulls down his mask all the way down to his collarbone, where his entire neck is exposed of Yuta’s emblem.

He counts down, taking breaths with each count. With shaking hands, he applies it, cold and sticky. A magic circle emits a green glow and vanishes against his skin. The emotions of Yuta are fleeting from his grasp until there’s nothing felt.

The silence hangs deafeningly more than ever. Only his ragged breaths are heard, and his blood pounding against his ears.

A sob is punched out of him, clutching at his chest as he silently apologizes to Yuta through the night sky. Somewhere, he’s over at Ceasethorne Town, Marford City, Trolevaria Empire. Hopefully, he’s sleeping, but knowing his mate so well, he’s restless, wallowing in sadness just as much as everyone else who has departed from their mates.

“Hyung..?” Sicheng’s breath hitches, and he quickly wipes his face, taking a few breaths and blinking his eyes.

Although it’s dark, both of them have exceptional vision if Sicheng enhances his with magic. Shotaro’s eyes are a natural of precise vision.

“What’s wrong?” Shotaro croaks, sitting up. He suddenly gasps and frantically gets up.

Frightened, Sicheng stands up and turns around. Did Shotaro see someone?

But he’s pulled to face Shotaro, and under the cracks of moonlight through the fortress arches, the younger looks distraught, looking at his neck.

Fuck. He forgot to pull up his mask.

“What did you do..?” He asks in a whisper, voice fragile like tonight. He reaches to touch the patch, and his face falls deeper in realization. “Why?”

Sicheng shakes his head, hearts racing. “It’s for the best.”

“But you hate,” He gestures to the patch. “It.” He calls it with so much hate, even if he’s never worn it. Other races don’t need such patches except for satanic and werewolves.

He looks away. He can’t look at the man who had looked up to him and so many others. He doesn’t understand why anyone would say he’s strong. He just has to be; he has to endure so many things and shove them down in his chest to survive. He swallows his shame and the things he does to protect those he loves, especially the man of his life.

He’s fallen that much.

“It’s for the best.” He repeated.

Shotaro falters and pulls away, nodding. “You don’t have to answer this question. It’s rude of me, but… what will happen to the patch if Yuta dies? Will you still wear it forever?”

Sicheng shakes his head. That’s not how it works.

“If Yuta dies, then the emblem disappears. The patch would fall off…” He can’t fully meet Shotaro’s eyes, but this is the least he can do to answer his endless questioning.

“Oh, hyung.” Shotaro pulls him into a hug, and tears are slipping through them once again. “I’m sorry.” There are so many reasons to apologize for, and Sicheng can’t even ask Shotaro what he means by it. He’ll take whatever is going on through each other in this inevitable war.

⚗︎

“Did you cover more ground?” Shotaro asks once Sicheng blitzes over to his side after finding him leaving a shop.

Sicheng nods, growing agitated.

“Guess I’ll keep asking around.” It doesn’t help much that Sicheng can go around asking for info since he’s mute. It’s not like he can willingly speak all the time. He doesn’t even have the will to spare the thought of a conversation with Yuta now, and guilt is clawing him at his throat.

“Actually, I want you to check out something for me.” Sicheng nods, tilting his head. Shotaro hands him a list of coordinates. “Specifically, in the underground sewage system. I know, I know.” The phoenix is sighing as Sicheng shoots him a look of disgust. “Just bear with me one that one. I’ll find you the best food in return.”

Sicheng huffs and nods, taking the list and blitzing away.

They’ve been searching for a whole week. There is some progress, but not so much to bite on still. But as time continues to pass, he grows wearier of how much there is to dwell on everything that’s happened so far.

He desperately needs some distraction.

So now, he’s entering the sewage system through the large river of sewage water, and dear Satan, it’s terribly pungent.

⚚

After what feels like forever, Sicheng concludes he hasn’t found anything useful. He leaves the system. Though, he isn’t sure if signatures are supposed to linger in the sewage system. It’s hard to describe, like he senses signatures, but they don’t really belong to anything in particular. Now would feces hold signatures? He wouldn’t know and wouldn’t like to. If only Kun were here, he would ask him such an interesting question.

He leaves and decides to get a new change of clothes. He can’t reek of sewage air, and would certainly not like to stay like this any longer than necessary.

So, he goes over to a shop, appearing as any traveler or resident of the empire. Surely, there are a few satanic races that are born here as well.

Sicheng returns to the base after freshening himself up, cleaning himself as best as possible from the public showers in an inn.

As he enters the abandoned fortress, Shotaro greets him, showing him a wrapped sandwich. “One of the best they’ve got. In my opinion, it’s quite tasty too.”

Sicheng thanks him and unravels the wrapping. It must be fresh, given that it’s still warm. “Toasted buns?” Sicheng raises a brow. It’s cut in half, easy for him to eat one at a time. As he peers into it, he sees various fillings of roasted juicy meat drenched in marinade. It glistens, and thankfully, some veggies accompany the meal.

The phoenix nods.

“Eat up while I tell you what I’ve gathered from today.” Sicheng nods and sits in front of the younger as he munches on his well-deserved food for going through that shit hole. Literally.

“So, I’ve gathered that there has been a new resident around a particular neighborhood. It’s near the center of the town. They moved in two years ago, the newest they could get.”

That means they’re going to check it out. They’re experienced with stealth missions, and they’re one of the top five fastest members of the Ubiquitous Guardians.

“We will check it out together. Do you want me to go in?”

Sicheng shakes his head and puts the hot food to the side. “I will. You can escape if you need to. Keep an eye out, and if something wrong happens— fly away.”

“Sicheng,” Shotaro deadpans, “I am not leaving you alone to die.”

The devil rolls his eyes, huffing. “Fine.”

⚗︎

They’re lingering around the said home at night.

Sicheng easily blends in with the shadows, and he glances over at Shotaro, who has changed into his stealth uniform.

They find an open window all the way at the top of the roof, swiftly climbing their way inside without a single ruckus.

Inside the home is already a terrible mess. Grimoires are scattered, and cobwebs are present in every corner of the room!

Why did they decide to go into the attic?

Or storage room? Who cares.

They move around swiftly, getting into the hallways, trying to detect any magic signatures, but there’s none. Someone is either concealing it, or they’re not home.

Sicheng cocks his head to the door at the end of the hall when he hears a clunk of glass, holding up two fingers: Give him two minutes before joining him.

Shotaro nods, still looking around the halls.

By the time he gets there, he grabs the door handle and twists gently, noting it’s terribly dusty and grainy.

Does anyone actually live here?

Before he opens, he looks up, enhancing his vision to spot thin wiring strings linked to the hinges of the door.

He grabs his knife, severs it, and opens the door.

Right as he opens it, an arrow meets his face, and he snatches it. As he does so, it disperses into tiny particles of dust, and some of it filters through his mask.

He does his best not to breathe in, but it’s too late. He’s choking and coughing, his body seizing at the dizzying effects.

That’s when he hears a voice speak.

“Let Satan’s presence crush your soul.”

Sicheng falls to the ground, gravity crushing him along with the ground beneath him, and he ends up falling through the two floors, in the basement now. Blood exits his mouth as his ribs break under the intensity of the pressure, and he’s got a few metal rods through his legs and arms from the destruction.

He hears Shotaro shout for his name, and Sicheng can’t move a muscle.

His mind is racing with a plan, for he can’t escape this type of curse until it wears off. He’s gasping for air, but he’s also inhaling the unknown substance still stuck on his mask.

His mind is fuzzy, and his lungs feel like they’ve been set ablaze. Pain strikes his head like an arrow shot through it, and he sucks in a sharp breath, only to receive more of the intoxicating substance.

It’s too intense, and he feels like his body is failing to cooperate when he tries to focus on regenerating. But this curse is nothing he has ever felt! Too powerful to the point that it’s crushing his bones!

He needs to get to Shotaro.

He needs to save him.

He needs to protect him.

Eventually, his vision ceases, blanketed in a darkness of agony.