Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It starts with Po Bidau Lyborick Khun.

“The Irregular Slayer Candidate. I’ll admit that I underestimated him.” Lyborick’s gaze is steely and piercing, with all the conviction of someone whose entire life is dedicated to Jahad, his one and only king. “I will treat him as a serious threat from now on. Send the new Fourth Army Corps recruits in stealth mode. Prioritize capturing the Regulars on the Hell Train…the ones he climbed the tower with. You’re free to kill a few. Just leave a couple alive.”

And the fate of the world shifts on its axis.

All the way across the chaotic battlefield riddled with glaring cannon-beams from the battleships and flashy attacks unique to High Rankers, Khun smiles sadly at Bam, his eyes filled with gentle affection, “Bam, I’m sorry for breaking our promise. I don’t think I can climb the tower with you anymore.” Though he’s speaking to his lighthouse, Khun’s gaze never once leaves Bam’s, his sapphire eyes calm but imploring. “Please be happy, Bam.”

Please forget about me and find happiness, Bam. Fully aware of how selfish such a request is, Khun ends the call before the guilt seeps through his voice, pointedly not looking in Bam’s direction. But I’ll promise you this: no one else you care about will die here today. Resolve sets in again as he takes a shuddering breath, trying his best to not think about how much this will hurt Bam as he starts the final phase of his plan.

The single click from Bam’s pocket as the call ends has never sounded more ominous, all other noise from the battle fading out against the cutting finality in Khun’s voice. This is a goodbye. Bam watches the entire scene unfold before his very eyes in slow motion and feels raw horror freeze his heart as something clicks, and he understands the full outcome of Khun’s plan.

As always, he’s set up the pieces with Bam’s best interests at heart, but Bam has no mind to appreciate Khun’s genius. Not when the image of Khun stumbling to his knees while clutching at his heart as he gasps for breath superimposes itself upon the current Khun. Not another goodbye. Not Khun. Bam thinks of his best friend, who had spent the last two years in a glass casket, and his own repeated, dolorous promises to become strong enough to protect Khun when he wakes up.

He won’t break that promise again. He’d rather break himself first.

Bam snaps. Any plans to save his power—for what? Mascheny? Lyborick? The third wall? Or a trump card hidden in the Nest? It doesn’t matter now—fly out the proverbial window as he shoots off like a bullet towards Khun in a burst of shinsu, leaving behind a circular shockwave that blasts debris and bodies in the vicinity to smithereens. Bam pushes his wings to their limits and beyond as he forces shinsu into them, butterfly wings expanding to several times their normal size in a swirl of colors as Bam streaks forward with all the intensity of a meteor.

Too slow faster f a s t e r —

His surroundings blend together into a blurred mess until all Bam can hear is the pounding of his own heartbeat, the wind whipping against his face. In a subconscious urge to go faster, Bam ignites the First Thorn at once, intense red light bursting out as a diamond-shaped fragment impales his chest. He grits his teeth at the sudden strain on his body and speeds up even more. He’s close enough to see Yasratcha smirking on top of his leering familiar and watching all this like some sort of sick play as the duo lands in front of him, white fur courtesy of Yasratcha’s skill swirling up and threatening to engulf Bam.

Please let me make it—

There’s a flash of red as the Second Thorn shows itself in its full length, forming a strange cross with the first fragment as it stabs through his chest. He knows using it to teleport will be too slow. Nonetheless, Bam’s flying figure turns translucent and flickers for just an instant as he crashes into the shield of white fur, and then he’s rushing on his way again as his form flickers and resolidifies after the pseudo-teleportation.

He vaguely hears Baylord Yama shout an assurance as the canine lord engages his sworn nemesis, but Bam’s reply is lost to the sounds of battle as he shoots forth once more…only to be met head-on with a spear of lightning. Bam forces more shinsu into his wings as tendrils of Karaka’s Armor Inventory and Dowon’s petals deflect the spear and send it reeling off course, smashing through the floating debris and exploding in a brilliant flash, sending shockwaves that almost sweep Bam off his feet…well, wings. Bam barely blocks in time with the Blue Thryssa’s transformed shield, but the momentary distraction has made him lose precious time, time that Khun doesn’t have.

Please let it be enough. Never in his entire life has Bam so badly wished that he had more power.

He desperately wrenches out the Red Thryssa’s power and yanks over control for the shinsu in his surrounding area to boost his speed, ignoring the wave of displeasure from the Administrator washing over him.

He’s close now, close enough to hear Khun shouting for him to stay back before the flames envelop them both in a furious blaze. Bam loses sight of Khun in the sea of crackling orange but homes in on the spot where he last sees the familiar head of blue hair, hoping that Eduan’s ice shinsu quality is as great as he boasts, enough to protect Khun from those flames, just like the frosty ice that’s shooting forth from within the flames in a spectacular interplay of fire and ice.

……Wait, ice?

The icy wave of shinsu does what even the lightning spear couldn’t and sweeps Bam off his feet, all while he is still reeling from shock. The momentary lapse in flames allows his gaze to meet Khun’s for the final time. Khun’s eyes—a deep cerulean bordering on purple—look clearer than they’ve ever been, and his mouth moves a few times, though the crackling inferno swallows his words. The smile never leaves Khun’s face even as flames greedily lick towards him and devour everything in its wake, taking Bam’s last remaining sanity and a good chunk of his soul along with it.

His heart plummets straight through the bottom of the tower as golden eyes widen in absolute horror, the sight of his best friend scattering away into ashes burnt into his eyes forever.

And Bam...Bam snaps. Stops caring about everything around him as he screams Khun’s name, berserk shinsu unconsciously lashing out at anything in the vicinity and blasting away his surroundings in a futile, last-ditch attempt to stop the fire and save Khun because he can’t be dead I WON’T ALLOW IT—

In a small spaceship hovering near the edge of the battlefield, Hwaryun’s eyes widen as she sees the paths divaricate and spiral off, twisting and fragmenting into a frenzied mess, and it’s all wrong so wrong but she realizes with dawning horror that she can no longer stop her God from falling into oblivion.

That day, the Administrator of the 50th Floor is forced to appear in a whirlpool of tremendously heavy and overbearing shinsu, indiscriminately crushing both sides of the battle. Mercifully, it’s not an aggressive one and merely kicks Bam out of the inner tower and into the floating limbo space in between.

But Bam doesn’t remember any of that. All he remembers are shattered memories of broken promises and then he’s falling, falling, falling towards the darkness. Bam welcomes its embrace. Maybe he’ll wake up from this nightmare if he hits his head hard enough.

Bam wakes up to a faceful of Blue Thryssa.

He violently shoots up from where he’s lying on the ground as his brain catches up to the past, his forehead smacking right into Blue Thryssa’s gaping maw.

“Ow!” They stumble back, a tangled mess of flailing arms and shaken eyes. They glare at each other for a moment before both unanimously agree to never mention this incident again.

Still dazed, Bam glances around and finds the space within his mind staring back at him. He can hear Blue Thryssa’s low cackles, his figure framed against the backdrop of the enormous glowing ball of souls, which remain silent save for the occasional crackles that signify their dissatisfaction. Red Thryssa, thankfully, silently observes the result of Bam’s messed up gourmet buffet from a corner, while Slayer Candidate Jue Viole Grace merely examines him through too-long bangs from his place right beside Blue Thryssa, his gaze noncommittal.

Child Bam glares at him accusingly. See what you’ve done?

Bam recalls the words he told Child Bam only a short while before, words that now sound hollow and taunting to his ears. I’m moving ahead to protect the things that matter to me. Yeah, right. He screwed that up too. Unconsciously, Bam clenches his fists, nails digging deep into his palms, enough to draw blood. A tidal wave of emotions surges through him in a screeching cacophony of despair, warring for control over his mind.

He can’t be dead

This isn’t real

But the fire fish—

Failed. Failed.

Why did he do that!?

You monster!

Khun is gone.

Why him?!!

To hell with the fire fish! He has ice!

If only I didn’t—

Wake up already—

Make them pay!

It should’ve been me

Not Khun not Khun PLEASE NOT KHUN—

Meaningless

He used ice!

He’s not dead he’s NOT ALLOWED TO LEAVE—

“Hey.” Bam blinks, staggering as the monotone world slips back into focus even as the rest of him slips further into oblivion. Young Bam is right in front of him, staring him down with unimpressed eyes. He sighs in irritation when Bam remains unresponsive.

“Hey, you. You’re the one who told us to move forward, so take responsibility.” Young Bam is all childish innocence and petulant stubbornness.

“And do what?” Bam asks numbly, “Climb the tower?” After all this? Pretend everything is okay and move on?

“No, idiot. Save Mr. Khun.” Even his youthful face shows signs of weariness and exhaustion—Do memory fragments even need sleep?—but his voice is firm nonetheless.

Of course Bam’s thought about that. Heck, it was the first thing that crossed his mind as soon as he saw ashes scattering away into the wind. But when he’s truly confronted with his deepest desire laid bare right before him, Bam is struck by the sheer naiveté of his thoughts.

“You don’t understand…Those were a Yeon Ranker’s flames, and he…” Bam’s voice cracks before he gathers the broken pieces again, struggling to focus on Child Bam through the veil of tears, “he used up the last of his shinsu to create that ice. I watched it happen. I couldn’t save him. I wasn’t strong enough.” The tears finally overwhelm him, welling up uncontrollably, and Bam loses the ability to continue speaking, limply collapsing onto the ground and crying his heart out.

Sometime during that, Jue Viole Grace suddenly appears beside Bam, wrapping him in a silent embrace. They stay that way for what feels like an eternity, Child Bam standing by as he watches Bam sob his throat raw. In a happier world, the stark reversal would have been cute. Here it is merely another mockery, a testament to all the mistakes Bam has ever made, chief among those—

“He’s dead and I killed him.” He finally whispers brokenly, head hung over with no more tears to shed.

“So you’ll what? Give up on Mr. Khun?” Young Bam’s voice is full of undisguised contempt. “That’s your so-called moving forward? You coward.”

Bam makes no attempt to deny any of his accusations. He has no right to. Save Khun…Of course I want to. But his body is gone and his soul—oh god, his soul. He feels sick. He had been so close to reaching Khun, which is also why he knows with absolute certainty no matter how much he wishes otherwise:

His soul is gone. Burnt away by the sea of raging flames just like everything else.

“If only you had more power,” Blue Thryssa coos, baring its gnarled rows of teeth in a grotesque smile, “but too bad I’m fake. Ain’t that a shame?”

Lifeless eyes, red and puffy from crying, suddenly snap out of their hollow numbness and fix Blue Thryssa with a piercing stare. “Can you bring him back?”

The floating mane of hair behind Blue Thryssa falls slightly at that. “Kid, not even I can bring back the dead…But,” he continues consideringly upon seeing Bam’s crestfallen expression and feels a rare moment of pity for his host, “perhaps that Thorn of yours can.”

Bam doesn’t have any time to ponder his words, because his body chooses that moment to wake up, forcibly sucking his consciousness away from their shared mind space.

“You know, you can cry now.” Once all traces of the current Bam are gone, Blue Thryssa speaks up, though not unkindly.

Young Bam instantly bursts into tears and wails to the starless black skies. “It’s not fair! He should be the grown-up one, but I have to watch him act like a child and comfort him when no one will do the same for me!”

Blue Thryssa sighs helplessly as he gazes at the bawling child and awkwardly pats his head. “There, there. You did great, I’m proud of you.” Anything to get you to stop wailing like a dying whale. Red Thryssa nudges him with its snout, awkwardly tilting its head to avoid goring Child Bam with its massive horns. Jue Viole Grace sighs helplessly under his bangs before he pulls another Bam into a hug for the second time that day.

After Bam’s wails gradually die down into choked sobs, then small sniffles, Blue Thryssa asks curiously, “But how did you think to do that?”

Young Bam doesn’t meet his eyes, electing to stare at the ground as though it holds the secrets to the universe. Just when Blue Thryssa thinks he won’t respond, Young Bam whispers, “Because Mr. Khun is my first friend in the tower. This is the only way I know to save him.”

This time, Bam wakes up to nothingness and a pounding headache, his body blistered from the heat of the flames. He feels like he’s back in the cave again, dark and desolate and lonely, having just lost his light. The despair from back then returns with full force, threatening to consume him in overwhelming guilt and rage, except this time it’s much, much worse. He had just seen the one who had unknowingly become his new light, a beacon of hope and all that’s precious, snuffed out because Bam had dragged him into a battle with the odds tilted against them and had been too weak to protect anything.

It’s all your fault. Maybe you never deserved any light in the first place.

He replays the events of That Day in his head over and over again like a broken record where the stop button has been smashed to pieces.

Bam can’t stop thinking about Khun in those final moments, recalling with absolute clarity electric blue eyes that glowed deep purple, the flickering flames of the fire fish dancing in them, shining brighter than they’ve ever been. He thinks of the little side braid Khun has in his hair—Why had he chosen That Day of all days for that braid?—and the (last) soft smile Khun directs at him that he’s never seen Khun give anyone else, strands of his silvery-blue hair sparking and catching fire before the merciless flames tear their gazes apart, burning away all that’s good and beautiful in this world.

He had been saying something, but the crackling flames had drowned even that out.

Bam’s mind goes blank with sheer, absolute wrath—at Yasratcha, Lyborick, Jahad, and himself, consumed with the desire to destroy them piece by fucking piece for taking Khun away but it’s still not enough, because…because his instincts tell him that he won’t ever see Khun’s smile again, or the gentle furrow of his brows in concentration as he mulls over battle plans while bathed in the glow of his lighthouse, or his mischievous smile as he creates an entire ice skating rink in the middle of battle, or the way he instantly reverts to childish antics whenever he’s with Rak and Bam, subconsciously dropping all the walls around himself.

Bam thinks of Khun’s soft little ponytail that always looks as though the hairband is on the verge of falling off, the messy strands of hair near the back too short to stay tied up. Recently, ever since Khun had woken up from that coma, Bam has found himself hyper-aware of whatever hairstyle Khun’s decided to wear for that day, unable to tear his gaze away.

“Something on my face, Bam?” Khun had asked one day when Bam’s staring had become too obvious to be called a passing glance.

Bam snaps out of his daze. “No, of course not!” He sees Khun’s inquiring gaze and hastily utters, “It’s just—your hair, it looks really nice.” Only then did Bam realize what he’d just said. “No, I mean, you always look amazing but there’s just something about the lighting and the ambience that makes it all—" He gestures wildly, trying and failing to salvage the situation. What am I even saying anymore? Ambience? Really?

Khun laughs, mercifully sparing Bam from any further embarrassment. “Why thank you.” Blue eyes playfully appraise him. “So you like it when I tie my hair up?”

Bam is nodding before he can stop himself. “And when you leave it down. And that one time you braided the sides. And when you kept a few strands tucked behind your ear.” The words tumble out of his mouth. Bam knows he’s digging himself into a deeper hole. Oh great, now Khun will think I’m a total creep. “…I just wanted to say that you look good in any hairstyle.” He finishes lamely.

Khun chuckles, deciding that he shouldn’t tease Bam anymore, “Well, I like your hairstyle too.”

Bam’s eyes light up and he starts babbling, mostly in an attempt to cover up his earlier embarrassment. “Thanks! I’d like to grow it a little longer, right now it’s barely shoulder length. I definitely won’t grow it too long because it’s a nightmare to wash and I have no idea how master Evankhell can stand that.” He shudders when thinking about his days as Jue Viole Grace. “But maybe a little longer than shoulder length?” Bam’s eyebrows scrunch up in thought.

“So you do like ponytails,” Khun notes smugly. He laughs at Bam’s flustered expression, “Sorry, Bam, you’re just too easy to tease.”

“Geez,” Bam mumbles helplessly, ducking his head to hide his smile as he savors this moment, committing Khun’s soft laughter to memory. This is what I want to protect.

I couldn’t protect him, Bam thinks to himself brokenly. Suddenly bereft of all strength, he collapses to the jagged stony ground, sobs wrenched out of him, a tiny part of him hating himself for being so pathetic while everyone else is probably still desperately fighting Jahad’s army. The vast majority of himself, however, simply bawls his eyes out in the middle of nowhere because nobody is there to judge or comfort him.

Bam didn’t think it was possible to feel worse than he did the moment he realized Khun had fallen into a near-death coma on the Hidden Floor. No, this…this feels a hundred times worse. He’d watched the flames consume Khun right before his eyes, and for all his strange mishmash of powers, he’d still failed to save the one person who’s most important to him.

He misses Khun, the yearning in his heart intensifying to the point of being unbearable, so much so that he’d do anything to bring him back, like Daniel had tried to do with Roen, because they’d loved each other—oh.

O h.

Well isn’t this a great time to realize my feelings.

Bam chuckles through a veritable ocean of tears at the irony of it all. He wipes his face with his sleeves, trying to clamp down on the crying with mixed success. No matter how empty he feels, or how much he wants to save Khun, he has to get back to his friends first. Staying here and crying won’t help anyone.

Eventually, he’s able to pull enough of himself together to stand up and call his pocket into visible mode. Glaring red letters with “SIGNAL LOST” flash on his pocket. Bam expects it, but his heart nevertheless sinks at that. Please tell me I’m still on the 50th Floor.

For the first time since his arrival, Bam studies his surroundings. Endless stretches of lifeless grey for as far as his eyes can see. Jagged rocks and arid soil covering the land, desolate to the extremes. An ashen sky devoid of the artificial stars or clouds constructed from shinsu. Bam’s thankful for that. He doesn’t think he can bear to look at the stars right now. The shinsu around him feels…chaotic and disordered, as though it doesn’t fall under any Floor Administrator’s jurisdiction. Bam tries to reach for the shinsu inside of him and gasps for breath as the sudden pain almost knocks him out again.

Right. Shinsu exhaustion from overuse at the Nest battle. I forgot. He winces and sits on the ground, closing his eyes in meditation to hasten his shinsu recovery speed.

As soon as his latent shinsu recovers somewhat and heals his burns and injuries, Bam attempts to summon the Second Thorn to teleport out like he’d done on the Hidden Floor, but its ability doesn’t activate, even when he infuses it with all the shinsu he could muster…almost as if the very space itself is interfering with his shinsu control ability.

Weird. I thought only Administrators can do that. Bam tentatively stretches out a tendril of shinsu into his surroundings. Like the flames of a candle, it sputters a little before completely dissipating in the nonexistent wind. He doesn’t understand much about the deeper theories of shinsu—after all, Bam has always been one to learn things through personal experience. And this…whatever this limbo-space is, it’s clearly interfering with shinsu, though Bam can feel what little of his remaining shinsu coursing through himself just fine.

In short, he’s trapped and won’t be getting out anytime soon, at least not until his shinsu fully recovers. Great.

His surroundings swirl into a haze until he can’t tell what’s real anymore in this bleak and somber place. Bam would’ve lost track of the time already if not for his pocket’s automatic timekeeping functions, which inform him that three days have passed since the Nest battle.

Trapped in this dreary landscape, Bam spends his time meditating to recover shinsu, but his thoughts wander off by themselves against his will. It’s been a while since Bam has had this much time to himself. The imminent threat to their lives has always hung over them like a Sword of Damocles. All because of me, a part of his mind whispers.

He thinks of the nonstop battles he’s fought so far—Reflejo, Beta, Hoaqin, Kaiser, Hell Joe, Data Jahad, and...Kallavan. All of a sudden, Bam feels so very tired. It’s still not enough. The two Thorn fragments, the Black March, the Red Thryssa, the Blue Thryssa, and the…the souls he burnt up. He had finally shoved aside his reservations and resolved to use all his power, but none of that had been enough.

What good had any of his so-called destiny ever done him? Sure, he’d gained tremendous power, more than any Regular or most Rankers can ever dream of, but he wonders belatedly if it all came at too high a cost. He’s stuck in an awkward middle ground between too little power and too much power. Powerless to protect those he loves—to protect Khun—but too powerful that he attracts danger to his friends like starved vultures drawn to fresh meat. What good is it if he still can’t protect the single person who means the world to him?

And what will you do? Run away? You have so many people to protect. The least you can do is face your responsibility head-on. Nothing will change if you run away. If you’re too weak, then just get stronger. If you can’t think of a way to save Khun, then just try harder. Either way, you of all people don’t have the luxury to squander your days away in self-pity.

“You’re right. But just how much stronger do I have to get? What if it’s never enough?”

Jue Viole Grace gives no response to that.

In the comfort of his own mind and the endless limbo, Bam can finally take the time to reflect on everything, mainly the many roles and expectations people have pushed onto him. He’s been called a God. Bam knows he’s not a God, no matter how he sometimes wishes he was. Gods can treat everyone equally. Bam fully understands that’s something he can never do. Gods can protect everyone so that nobody will die. But to fight for his friends and master means trampling over other people’s dreams, and Bam has made his peace with that. He’ll keep moving forward, no matter what.

Which brings him to Monster, a beast destined to devour all of the tower. Sometimes, in the dark of night, Bam gazes at the artificial stars and wonders what Rachel meant by that. He’s acknowledged that he will never understand why she loves the stars so much, enough to hurt and betray and kill everyone and anyone. But she had called him a monster, and for once, Bam thinks she might have finally spoken the truth. He once wanted to save everyone with Deng Deng, only to be faced with the full extent of his hypocrisy. After that, he had simply wanted to protect the people precious to him, but the hollow pang in his chest tells him that he failed at that too.

Now, he’s finally realized exactly how much he misses the one person who means everything to him, whose unconditional support he can…could always count on to have his back. Bam had taken him for granted, had forgotten—or perhaps he had never realized—that despite Khun’s insistence that he was climbing the tower in order to kill Khun Eduan and take over the Khun family, Khun had always been the one who’d valued Bam’s feelings, goals, and wellbeing above even his own. Bam suddenly recalls the staggering number of times Khun had worried about him, more than he can count.

“Because obviously you don’t afford yourself enough care,” Khun had explained with a roll of his eyes when an exasperated Bam had vehemently protested that he was fine—they’d just fought a particularly grueling battle after being ambushed on the Hell Train, with Bam taking a direct hit, but the monster’s attacks were much flashier than its actual effects.

I could say the same about you, Bam had wanted to retort, before Khun’s shocked expression told him that he actually did say that aloud. An awkward silence had followed, neither able to meet the other’s gaze, before Khun cautiously suggested a compromise.

“Then…how about we both promise each other to take better care of ourselves from now on?”

Bam had offered him a tentative smile then. “…Yeah. It’s a promise.”

Small things—words, gestures, expressions here and there—that accumulate to paint a picture of genuine concern. Opposing Hwaryun’s suggestion for Bam to defeat the Hell Train guardians alone for fear of Bam overtaxing himself; whipping together a lighthouse shield in an instant when they confronted the “God” of Guardians despite the both of them being hopelessly outclassed; going against all logic and reason and deciding to go along with Bam’s crazy plan to save even Hoaqin’s hostages; getting injured in a fight with Hatz at the Name Hunt Station just so Bam wouldn’t have to be forced to become the lonely Jue Viole Grace again; inquiring about his physical state after assimilating the Second Thorn; diligently devising strategies to save Deng Deng even though Bam knew he was against it; and most recently—

Running out in the middle of a battle just to comfort Bam. The extent of Khun’s perceptiveness had never ceased to amaze Bam, as though Khun could see right through him. He’d pieced together the true nature of Bam’s newfound spirit arrow merely from White’s cryptic words and had known exactly what was plaguing Bam after he saved the canine people’s launch ship. Hell, he’d even seen right through the way Bam dodged his question by insisting that he was physically fine while avoiding mentions of his emotional wellbeing. Bam’s eyes redden when he recalls their last hug. It had been so warm, warmer than anything he’d ever experienced in the tower.

Khun, Khun is an utter miracle. Has been ever since Bam had met him on the Floor of Tests. Bam thinks that he must have used up all the luck he had in this lifetime and the last few just to meet Khun. It’s the best decision Bam has ever made in his life, period.

Khun had never pushed Bam to be someone or something he never wanted to be. Bam could be himself around Khun. But Khun is gone now. Gone because he had never treated himself with the same kindness that he treated Bam. The thought of that makes Bam even sicker than seeing all those dead bodies floating in the Nest battlefield. Bam knows that something inside him also died the instant Khun did. And he knows, with as much certainty as he knows that Khun’s eyes reflect the boundless azure of the vivid sunlit skies and the deep cobalt blue of the majestic night skies, that he’ll do anything to get Khun back.

The thought of that doesn’t scare him as much as it should (all he can think of are warm blue eyes and a soft smile, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at the corner of those lips).

Because Rachel’s right. He’s a monster. And he’ll be damned if he can’t even save Khun.

“You know,” Bam says to himself while lying on his back, hands propped behind his head as he stares up at the murky-grey sky, “I used to believe wanting to save everyone was asking for too much, but now I see that even wanting to protect everyone precious to me is greedy. If I continue down this path, many more people will probably die. I’m a foolish, selfish person who always makes stupid decisions. Even so…I’m going to move forward…because this is the path I chose. I owe it to Khun to keep going…and to set things right.”

Bam climbs to his feet, his movements shaky but determined. Today is the seventh day since he’s been stuck in here, and he’s finally recovered all his shinsu.

“Now, let’s get out of here.”

Bam simultaneously ignites two Thorn fragments and impales himself with them. “Second Thorn Fragment Transcendental Skill—"

With a flash of light, Bam appears in midair against a bright blue sky dotted with intermittent fluffy clouds, landing on top of a verdant meadow and squashing some unfortunate vegetation. Bam squints as his pupils adjust to the bright shinsu sunlight after spending days under a leaden sky, his mind reeling from seeing actual colors for the first time in days. He’s happy to finally feel signs of life in the shinsu around him, the gentle breeze caressing his face and hands.

Bam calls his pocket into visible mode and beams as he sees signal again, relieved to learn that the Administrator hadn’t thrown him far—he’s currently on the 54th Floor, albeit the middle tower area.

Seconds later, he receives a call from Hwaryun and sends over his coordinates. Hwaryun immediately steers her small airship towards Bam’s location. They continue the call along the way. She tells him that his friends and allies who participated in the Nest battle are safe, though Hwaryun insists on informing him of their physical conditions in person. Bam tries to keep the sinking suspicion away. On the other hand, he tells her what he knows about his circumstances after the…Nest battle. Stop it. I’m going to set things right.

Hwaryun cuts in as soon as Bam describes the unusually chaotic shinsu in that colorless land, “You were in a distorted limbo in between the inner and middle towers,” she says by way of explanation, anticipating his question. “The shinsu there is in disarray and cannot be freely controlled. Even for an Irregular, it’s near impossible to leave without a Guide.” A pause. “Did you use the Second Thorn?”

Bam nods before realizing that Hwaryun can’t see him over their pocket voice call. “Yeah. There’s heavy interference with any shinsu techniques, so I augmented the Second Thorn’s capabilities with the First Thorn’s shinsu.”

“You were lucky to land somewhere close. It would have been troublesome if you teleported to the outer tower.”

“I didn’t think the Administrator threw me too far away, so I set my destination as the closest space outside of that region when teleporting,” Bam explains.

Hwaryun hums in thought. There’s a lull in the conversation. Bam finally asks the question that’s been eating away at him, hoping against hope. “Is Khun…?”

“It’s exactly as you saw in the Nest battle.” Her response is dreadfully flat.

Neither side speaks after that. The call ends soon after.

A few days later, an airship arrives, and then they’re heading off to a FUG ghost ship with Bam in tow.

He doesn’t see Hwaryun again until later that day, after Bam has had a chance to wash and eat a decent meal, though he barely has any appetite. He finds her by the window, gazing at the changing scenery below their ship.

“Thank you for finding me.”

She studies him, her eyes blank. A trace of something flashes through them—regret?—but disappears just as fast. She gives a slow nod in acknowledgment. “That’s what Guides do. Besides, you saved me a lot of trouble by teleporting out of that place.”

Bam smiles weakly in response. Then. “Did they ever…” Bam hesitates, before powering through, “...find his body?”

Hwaryun doesn’t bat an eyelash at his question, as though she had expected it from the start. “Bam…I’m sorry. Everything was burned away.” And whatever’s left was destroyed by the shinsu outburst from you and the Administrator. At least she’d been nice enough to leave out that part.

“Oh.” Bam tries hard to hide his disappointment as he mentally berates himself for asking such a stupid question. “How are my master and everyone else?”

She tells him it’s been a week since the battle at the Nest. Thanks to Khun’s plan, his other friends are safe. His berserk shinsu had blown away the third wall and left Jahad’s army in disarray. Evankhell had taken the opportunity to rescue Ha Jinsung, but Hwaryun’s answers turn vague when Bam asks about his master’s health, and his heart sinks.

“Hwaryun. Tell me what happened to my master,” he all but orders. Hwaryun thinks that face really should be illegal—earnest golden eyes blazing with the intensity of the sun, burning with resolve for those he loves; brows tightened in silent fury; lips set in a determined line—and much as he always denies it, at this moment he truly looks like a God. But then the piercing intensity disappears as he adds softly, “Please. I need to know.”

Hwaryun relents. “They crushed his arms. FUG’s top medics are looking after him right now.”

There’s a horrified gasp from her God.

“Hey, have some faith in your master. Even Kallavan could make a new arm out of shinsu. Do you think your master can’t?”

“You’re right.” Bam breathes out a sigh of relief, his thumping heart finally settling in his chest. He was taught by Ha Jinsung himself, so Bam knows exactly how painful it is for a martial artist to have their arms destroyed, doubly so for his master, who had clawed his way to the position of a formidable High Ranker through thousands of years of training, perfecting his techniques to their extremes. The thought of Kallavan and Mascheny Jahad destroying the culmination of his master’s very existence as a martial artist fills him with a seething, simmering fury. It’s further compounded when Bam remembers Kallavan’s admission that his master had landed himself in this state in the first place because he’d fought to protect Bam from Kallavan when he could have simply escaped and still be alive and well right now instead of spending three years imprisoned and crippled.

Bam shakes his head, clearing away these unproductive thoughts. He has no time to wallow in despair and guilt, not when he’d already spent seven days doing nothing but that. What he needs now is strength. There’s still the chance that Ha Jinsung’s arms can be fixed as long as his master is alive.

Unlike Khun. Unbidden, the traitorous thought slips seamlessly into his mind.

Hwaryun’s voice softens in sympathy when she observes the sudden change in Bam’s expression. “Don’t let his death be in vain. He wouldn’t have wanted that.”

But what would he have wanted? The words from several lifetimes ago echo in his mind: “I don’t care about the rules anymore. Because—I’ve decided to climb the tower with you.” Bam bites his lips until he draws blood, silent and unresponsive.

Hwaryun sighs imperceptibly. “You should take care of yourself too.” She turns around and leaves. Bam doesn’t meet her eyes.

He’s afraid of what she’ll see.

It all feels surreal, after so long left with his thoughts in that monotonous place. He’s elated to see his friends alive and well, and happier still that his master is back.

Evankhell takes one look at him and pushes all conversations aside for later, declaring Bam sorely in need of rest, to which Bam gives a grateful smile in return. He had spent the majority of his time trapped trying to recover shinsu, but meditation is not sleep, as Bam’s tired brain can attest to. Bam finds an empty room and thereafter flops onto the bed with all the grace of a dead fish.

What happens next passes by in a blur as Bam robotically mimics the motions of daily life, trying to readjust to a life without Khun’s reassuring presence. He tells himself that it’s merely another separation and that they’ll see each other soon, because the alternative is unthinkable. Besides, he has so much to do and not enough time: fight Jahad’s army and bring Khun back, both of which he’s too weak to accomplish right now.

Khun…Khun is no longer here now, so Bam will have to think about future actions in place of his strategist. No more reckless actions, safe in the knowledge that Khun will make everything work out with his miraculous strategies. Okay, well…no more extremely reckless actions. Khun had always been his anchor, steady and inspiriting and ready with plans or words of comfort. But Bam will manage. He has to.

Ha Jinsung lets out a surprised grunt as Bam suddenly barrels into him and then buries his face in his master’s chest.

“Master! I’m so glad…you’re okay.”

Ha Jinsung shakes his head. “There’s no need to be so concerned about an old man.”

“You’re not old.” Bam pulls back with a smile, then directs his gaze to his teacher’s arms as he asks anxiously, “How are your arms?”

“Almost back to normal.” Ha Jinsung moves them experimentally. “I just have to get used to reinforcing the pathways with shinsu.” He shrugs. “Who knows, maybe someday I’ll replace them with shinsu altogether. The point is, I’m fine. How can I not be, when I have two amazing disciples?” There is unmistakable pride in his affectionate gaze.

“Thank goodness,” Bam sighs in relief, feeling a large weight disappear off his chest. Bam is suddenly overcome with emotion, and tears flood out. Damn, not again.

His master—who has been, for all intents and purposes, Bam’s father figure—holds Bam in a warm and reassuring embrace.

“I was so close…” Bam cries into Ha Jinsung’s shoulder, a little sorry about ruining his master’s designer clothes with tears.

Ha Jinsung remains silent and merely rubs circles comfortingly on Bam’s back. They stay like that for some time, until Bam’s shoulders are no longer racked with sobs.

“Better?”

“Yeah.” Bam takes a deep breath, composing himself. “Master, please teach me again. I need to get stronger so that the people who matter to me won’t ever be hurt again.” He has never been more determined.

Ha Jinsung nods, unsurprised by his request as they move to somewhere in the tower that won’t care about massive landscape restructuring. “I heard about your Floral Butterfly Piercing Technique – Twin Wings at the Nest battle. You’ve grown so much, but you’ll have to grow a lot more to face Jahad and the 10 Great Family Heads. Watch carefully, I’m only going to show it once. This is your teacher’s Dragon Tiger Gate: Ultimate Floral Butterfly Piercing Technique. If you can master this and integrate it into your Floral Butterfly Piercing Technique…then not even Kallavan will stand a chance.”

Bam throws himself into training with all the intensity of someone possessed, so much so that even Evankhell looks worried, but Bam merely offers a small smile. “I’m fine. Let’s continue.” Evankhell’s gaze lingers momentarily, and then she’s back to her usual self, putting him through hell and back. Bam is grateful she doesn’t press.

Hockney pulls Bam aside one day and gives him two floating blue lighthouses, which Bam instantly recognizes as Khun’s.

“He left these behind with me. I think you should have them.” Hockney hesitates, clearly unsure of what to say. He finally awkwardly says, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about Khun.”

“Thank you. And thank you for the lighthouses.” Bam smiles slightly. “They mean a lot to me.”

He configures Khun’s lighthouses and keeps them in his room. They’ve become a constant in Bam’s new life without Khun, their steady glow so similar to their owner’s presence. He knows little about being a Light Bearer, but Bam’s always been a fast learner. It doesn’t take him long to understand the essentials.

He recounts the events of his daily life to the lighthouses, though most are grumblings of how much of a slave driver his teachers are, and doubly so when combined. There are good and bad days, though unfortunately, the former are few and far in between, but they happen to coincide with the times that Bam makes a breakthrough on the progress of the Thorns.

However, be it the good or the bad, and no matter how much his muscles ache or his brain wants to drop dead asleep for the next ten years, Bam never fails to regale the lighthouses with tales of his daily misadventures, creating faithful recordings for when Khun comes back, because Khun would hate to miss so much information. “You’ll be mad to miss seeing the great Rak call Mr. Urek of all people a turtle,” Bam would chuckle fondly as he stared at the glow of the lighthouses, imagining Khun gracefully arching an eyebrow as he continued to mull over possible battle plans and contingencies.

He knows it’s unfair to Rak and his other friends, but sometimes Bam feels like he’s returned to the days when he was the lonesome Jue Viole Grace, back when he had just become a Slayer Candidate and the only thought that kept him going was the desire to see his friends, except now seeing Khun again has become that driving force. Because a part of Bam’s soul had also died along with Khun that day—and no matter how much time passes, or how many times he grieves, or how many times his friends and masters offer words of comfort, or how much he knows with all his heart that he’ll resurrect Khun or die trying, the gaping void in his heart doesn’t diminish the slightest.

So on one hand, the lighthouses have become his anchor to reality, to ensure that Bam won’t drift away and drown in the crushing sea of guilt and hurt constantly gnawing away at him.

On the other hand, lighthouses are great at sound-proofing the thin and flimsy walls of whatever temporary abode he happens to find himself in on missions and even in the FUG ship. It’s already been a year since That Day, and Bam doesn’t want to give a reason for his friends to worry over him any more than they already did.

And if he wakes up seeing nothing but a sea of flames and a disappearing speck of blue, well, no one but him has to know.

(But he suspects they do nevertheless.)

In their own ways, his friends all take Bam aside and offer words of solace, though with varying degrees of success. Bam appreciates their efforts nonetheless, thankful to have such wonderful people in his life.

Rak, for once in his full decompressed glory, takes one look at Bam and gives him a sudden slap on the back, kindly introducing Bam’s face to the gorgeous tiled floor.

“Bwahaha! Those are good eyes, black turtle! You’re a worthy prey for the great Rak Wraithraiser to hunt!”

Bam thinks he can hear relief behind that boisterous laughter, but that might just be an auditory hallucination from having his face buried in the floor.

Rak’s next words, however, sweep aside all idyllic thoughts. “Don’t keep the blue turtle waiting.”

At Bam’s shocked eyes, Rak merely huffs in annoyance. “Your leader can see what’s underneath that shell.”

Slowly, Bam smiles, the first real smile in a while. “You’re the best leader, Rak.”

“Of course! But black turtle, you’ll have to make do without your leader for a while.” Rak’s crimson eyes turn serious.

“You’re leaving?”

“A hunter won’t be able to hunt his prey if he’s not strong. I’m going to return to the wild and become a rock, so that I can make those crazy lightning turtles and that cat turtle pay for hurting the blue turtle.”

A Guide pops out of nowhere and translates for the bewildered Bam, “He means we’re going to visit the ruins where a tribe of the Ancient’s descendants once lived.”

“Oh!” Comprehension dawns on Bam. “Good luck, Rak!”

Endorsi drags him into a training ground one day. “Look, we all made the choice to follow you. Don’t you dare think that was your fault. He knew exactly what he was doing. So if you’re still beating yourself up over it, I’ll trash you myself. Oh, and of course you can’t use shinsu or those strange powers. Just good old close combat.”

“Thank you, but I’m seriously fine—what are you doing—wait, I’m really fine so—”

It’s only when Bam collapses on the training ground, gasping for mouthfuls of precious shinsu oxygen, does he realize that he hadn’t thought about That Day the entire fight.

“She gave me quite a trashing, even though I said I was fine,” Bam admits to the suspendium lighthouses that night. “I can’t hide anything from her. She’s also become strong…Everyone is trying their best to move forward. Endorsi doesn’t show it, but she cares a lot about you too.” Bam chuckles, and then winces as his attempt to laugh aggravates his bruised ribs. “I guess we both needed that.”

“Hey Bam,” Shibisu hesitates, “look man, everyone’s already told you this a million times before, but we’re here for you. Just know that you’re not alone; we all care for you.” A wry smile appears on his face. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to count on your other teammates once in a while.”

“Thank you, Shibisu, but I’m fine.” Bam’s eyes are full of understanding. “I’m not the only one who’s lost a friend. Khun was also your friend.”

Shibisu sniffs. “When did my cute Bam grow up so much?”

“Khun…” Bam hides a wince when he hears that. The name sounds so wrong in Hatz’s mouth. Hatz should be calling Khun “Earrings”, and they should’ve been arguing away like cats and dogs by now. But Bam is snapped back to cruel reality as Hatz continues, “He died an honorable death. It’s not your fault.”

Bam offers Hatz a teary smile. “Thank you, Mr. Hatz. I know those words mean a lot coming from you.” He utters a haphazardly thrown together excuse and hightails out of there before he descends into full-blown waterworks again.

They hold a small funeral on a FUG ghost ship with the few friends who are able to make it.

Even White appears, albeit reluctantly. Karaka and Yama also attend in silent support. White grudgingly admits that Khun was “quite crazy for a Regular”, which is all the compliment that can be squeezed out of him.

But Rak had merely scoffed when Bam told him about the funeral. “The blue turtle will come back,” he had insisted, ignoring the various degrees of disbelief and sympathetic pity on the faces of their friends, “that’s why I’m going to make sure I’m so strong that I leave him in the dust when he returns! And if any of you are not too busy holed up in your shells, you’ll be doing the same instead of holding a fake funeral.” He had set out later that day. That was one week before.

They unanimously agree to leave out the coffin part. For one, there’s no body. For another, the sight will be too reminiscent of the clear glass casket Bam had spent entire nights staring at on the Hell Train. Bam doesn’t remember much of the funeral, merely attending it more out of formality than anything else. Personally, he agrees with Rak. It’s wrong to hold a funeral when Khun will come back.

His friends seem to accept Bam’s insistence that he’s fine. If they notice that Bam’s smiles no longer reach his eyes, or that the light in his eyes has dimmed just a little, they don’t comment on those. Whenever they do, Bam would brush off their concern with a smile that wasn’t quite right and a gaze that wasn’t all there.

“…Say, Khun. Do you think parallel universes exist? That there are other versions of us out there? But I can’t imagine Rak as anything other than himself.” Bam smiles fondly, but then his smile dies down. “If there are other versions of us out there, do you think there are also universes where one of us is gone? If there are—god, this is gonna sound horrible—but I’d rather it be me than you…I hope that no version of you ever has to go through this again.”

Throughout all the training and missions, Bam has never once given up on leads to resurrecting Khun. He starts with the fire fish (because where else?). Bam calls Yeon Woon’s Pocket, the number courtesy of Shibisu.

“The fire fish.”

“Hmm, is that what my flames took the shape of?” Woon’s voice is unsurprised.

“Yeah. What happens if it’s overused?”

“It’ll burn the user too,” Woon says matter-of-factly, as though he’d seen it happen before.

“When does the fire fish heal and when does it burn? What if the user has an ice shinsu affinity? Can Khun’s soul still be saved?” Bam lets out a torrent of questions, unable to stop himself. By this point, he’s probably thrown propriety so far out the window it can never see the light of day again.

Woon is unusually silent. When he speaks, the happy-go-lucky child is replaced by the tired Ranker who’d climbed to the top only to despair at the ceaseless killings. “…No, I haven’t seen any case where the flames bring the user back to life. My flames are for healing, but that doesn’t change their nature. The Yeon family’s flames are meant to burn everything in their path. Your friend…Even if he’s a Khun, if he overused the fire fish, then not even his soul…I’m sorry.”

“Ah no, Mr. Woon…please don’t be. I haven’t even thanked you for saving him yet. Thank you for saving my friend.”

Bam doesn’t remember how the rest of the call went, because his head is swimming by that point, and it’s just a little hard to breathe.

“…No, Bam, focus. You have a lot more leads to investigate.”

“If our places were switched, you probably would’ve already formulated working plans and contingency plans for even time travel by now, but I’m not as smart as you. That’s why I had to start from the most obvious place.” Bam’s lying on his bed, looking up at the white ceiling of his room, the ever-present glow of the lighthouses keeping him company. “Don’t worry though, I’ll make up for that with persistence. Let’s keep looking.”

Bam asks a stupid question. “Can you bring Khun back to life?”

White smiles sharply, all predatory grins and deadly grace, a panther poised to attack at the slightest hint of fear. “Will you give me your soul if I can?”

Bam stares at him, gaze unblinking. “Yes.”

“My my, what beautiful devotion.” White laughs with all the languidness of a cat stretching himself. “But you are aware that I can only affect the souls I devour, right? You should know. After all, you’re a fast learner.” The insinuation in those words is not lost on Bam.

“I know. But…the demon. Did it ever tell you where souls go when they die?” When they’re not devoured and burnt is left unsaid. He knows too well. Those souls he’s burnt will never come back. More casualties. My fault.

White suddenly sighs, tired of honest eyes that hold no fear. What a killjoy. “Slayer Candidate, you should give up. We both know that’s not happening. You need to move on. The soul of a warrior so disheartened smells utterly disgusting. Get lost, you’re ruining my appetite.” And he impatiently shoos Bam away.

“That went as well as I expected.” Bam chuckles humorlessly. “But I still had to try…if there’s even the tiniest chance of seeing you again, I’ll take it.”

The lighthouses gently sway in the air, as if in silent acknowledgment.

“Blue Thryssa, what did you mean by my Thorn?” Bam asks one day when he finally succeeds in replicating the environment of a Rice Pot with his shinsu control.

Blue Thryssa tilts its head in thought. “Well…how do I put this? It’s just a feeling, but right now it seems like your best bet. You know how you only have two Thorn fragments so far, and they have different abilities?”

Bam ponders the possibility, his brows knitted. “I’ve thought about that too, but I haven’t seen anyone with a resurrection ability inside the tower. If it’s just a physical body, I’m confident that I can make one out of shinsu based on Mr. White’s clones that we saw on the Hell Train. I understand enough about his spells to replicate that, but not even his soul magic can help out missing souls, and it’s not very likely that the next two fragments will just happen to restore souls.”

Blue Thryssa shook its head. “I’m not talking about that. The fragments definitely won’t have what you’ll need, but what about the complete Thorn?” Bam opens his mouth to object, but Blue Thryssa quickly continues, “Look, kid, all I’m saying is that your Thorn fragments—they’re different from me or Red Thryssa or even that ball of souls. Call it an instinct from one power to another, but I have a feeling that the Thorn is capable of growing alongside you.”

“So you’re saying that if I get the complete Thorn and wish hard enough……a miracle will happen?” Bam asks dubiously, frowning. Even the mere action of saying those words feel ridiculous.

“Not with that attitude, no.” Blue Thryssa rolls its eyes. “Believe what you like. Or don’t. Doesn’t hurt to try though.”

And Bam is summarily kicked out of his mind space. How does Blue Thryssa even do that?

Much as Bam doesn’t want to admit it, that is his best bet right now.

…Two more Thorn fragments, huh? “Hang in there, Khun.”

He catches Hwaryun the day before she heads out again on another mission. Guide stuff, she had told them by way of explanation a few days ago. Nobody had asked anything after that.

“Be careful on your mission.” Bam watches her pack some snacks from the kitchen into her lighthouse. He fidgets, torn on what to say next. Should I ask about her mission? But what if it’s classified information?

Hwaryun chuckles in amusement as she throws bags of chips into her lighthouse. “You can ask, you know. You’re a Slayer Candidate of FUG.”

Bam frowns. “I thought you couldn’t see Irregulars’ fates.”

“I can’t. You’re just too easy to read,” Hwaryun deadpans.

“Right…” He sighs. Why do people keep on telling me that? “What’s your mission this time?”

Hwaryun stares at him thoughtfully for a moment. Then: “I think I have an idea what you’re here for. Why don’t you go first?”

Bam hums in agreement. It wouldn’t surprise him. FUG’s always wanted to collect all the Thorns, after all. “I’ll become your God. That’s why…please guide me to the last two Thorns.”

Hwaryun stares at him.

Bam tries not to think about what she sees on his face. He’s never been a good liar, after all. But Bam is nothing if not determined, so he plows on, “I’ll need the complete Thorn if I’m ever to fight Jahad, right?”

If Hwaryun sees through his lie, she doesn’t call him out on it. She smiles. “Naturally. We’re going to need all the help we can get to survive Jahad’s army. It just happens that my next mission is tracking down Madorako. We have a few leads, and we’ve traced the potential buyers for the Third Thorn. It’s likely that negotiations won’t go well, though. There might be another battle.”

“I’ll be ready.” Stronger, Bam promises silently. Strong enough to protect those precious to me. “And thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me. We all have our own reasons for fighting. You’re not the only one who wants Jahad gone.” She turns to leave after that last reassurance, apparently having decided that emptying out the entire snack cabinet is as good as any time to stop.

“…I’m sorry.” For lying to you. I don’t think I can stop making mistakes, I don’t think I can stop being greedy…I don’t think I can ever be your God.

Hwaryun stops. “Don’t be. After all, even if I don’t believe in your words, I believe in the fact that you won’t let anyone endanger Khun when he comes back, not even Jahad himself.”

She’s gone before Bam’s short-circuited brain fully processes her words. When he does, he smiles like an absolute idiot for the rest of the day, floating on cloud nine.

“She used ‘when’, Khun. When, not if,” Bam giggles as he tells Khun’s lighthouse, unable to contain his giddiness as a stupid grin breaks out on his face. “Well, she’s right. I trust her Guide abilities. You’re not leaving me that easily.”

It’s a difficult fight, but they manage to ambush the ship transporting the Third Thorn the instant it passes between two Floors, courtesy of a well-timed Ancient Spear from Evankhell with David Hockney and Shibisu’s coordination. Though Madorako’s abilities as a High Ranker have dulled from hundreds of years of lack of use, the sheer number of high-rank items he has on him is no joke. Fortunately, the recent fight at the Nest has convinced more FUG elders that it is time to unite against Jahad, so they manage to stave off Madorako’s people, even when one of the potential High Ranker buyers for the Thorn shows up—yet another person who bears the bloodline of the Ancient.

Thankfully, Hwaryun is able to locate the precise coordinates where the Third Thorn is kept in Madorako’s ship, and Bam, who has now mastered the Second Thorn well enough to teleport at short notice, is in and out of there before Madorako or the High Ranker can react, delayed as they are by Evankhell, Ha Jinsung, and FUG’s elders.

All in all, things go relatively smoothly this time. Perhaps even the universe thinks they need a break after charging headfirst into a Nest defended by two and a half of Jahad’s squadrons (can’t forget those new recruits of Lyborick’s), three (one former) squadron commander High Rankers, and princess Khun Mascheny Jahad.

So yes, Bam is grateful that this battle goes as planned. He trains right away with the new Third Thorn, trying his fastest to gain control over its power. Like with the other two fragments, the third fragment augments and boosts his already insane shinsu capacity as well as flow control. Try as he might, Bam can’t seem to activate the Third Thorn’s special ability like the Second Thorn’s teleportation but shrugs as he puts that aside for now. Perhaps it’ll only activate under dire circumstances.

However, he is able to ignite part of the Third Thorn and integrate it into his Floral Butterfly Piercing Technique, along with some tweaks to incorporate the destructive capabilities of Ha Jinsung’s Dragon Tiger Gate.

The day he masters that, FUG gains its newest Slayer.

He takes a detour as soon as he becomes strong enough.

“Hey, Hwaryun, can I borrow you for personal, non-Slayer-related reasons?”

“What is it, my God?” She tilts her head curiously, the slightest hints of furrowed eyebrows visible as she quickly runs through all the possibilities and, for once, is unable to come up with a reason for his request. She sighs at Bam’s Irregular identity that prevents her from seeing any paths directly related to him. In circumstances like these, Khun would have been a great asset to have by her God’s side. He’s always understood her God’s thoughts, even after all the growth and mental maturation Bam had gone through in the two years that Khun had been in a coma.

…Wait. Coma. Her eyes widen in pleasant surprise. “You’re finally taking care of her ?”

Her God smiles, golden irises glowing like embers and somehow managing to appear both innocent and terrifying. “Yeah. If Khun’s ever going to come back, I’m going to make sure nothing can hurt him this time.”

Hwaryun smiles. “It would be an honor, my God.”

“Please help me delay the High Rankers from the Po Bidau family! In return, I’ll owe you a favor!” Bam clasps his hands together, head bowed as he faces three surprised Slayers. Then a thought occurs to him and he adds, “As long as they don’t put my friends in danger, and no, White, you can’t have my soul.”

“Eh, why not?” Yama shrugs, punching his fist into his hand. “I’ve been itching to test out my latest transformation on someone anyways.”

Karaka’s expression is indecipherable under his Armor Inventory. “You had better keep your word, Slayer.”

White stares at Bam hungrily and then sighs. “Those High Rankers better be worth His Majesty’s appearance.”

(None of them admit the beaming smile they receive warms their bloodthirsty, vengeful, or murderous little hearts.)

With Hwaryun’s guidance and FUG’s resources, they manage to identify several High Rankers who are traveling with Rachel on her outing. Hwaryun can’t see the Irregular’s path at all, but true to her words, she tracks down the High Rankers without much trouble. They find Rachel in the midst of a desert on the outer edges of the tower, protected by High Rankers from the Po Bidau family and flanked by divine sea creatures. More disposable tools for those stars.

“Bam? What are you doing here?” The surprise is evident in her voice. She’d thought he would stop chasing her for a while, but clearly, his yearning to know about himself has won out.

“Didn’t I say years ago? To finish what I started.” His words set off a few alarm bells.

Bam sees nervousness flash across Rachel’s face, but her reply remains steadfast as her lips curl into the beginnings of a pleased smile. “Oh, Bam. Still chasing after me, even if you don’t like me. That’s right, I’m the only one who knows all about you.” The words are as much for him as they are for her, reaffirmations to calm her thumping heart. Something feels not quite right about this Bam, but that’s likely her imagination. This is the first time they’ve met in years, after all, though it vexes her that he’s still shining as brightly as ever, destiny paving the way to his glory.

Golden eyes blankly observe her. “And what do you know?” His voice is carefully devoid of emotion, but that doesn’t stop the rush of satisfaction as her thoughts are proven right once again. You’re still the same as ever. Just better at hiding that desperation to learn about your past, but I can see right through that. All right, I can work with this. I know a little about the Fourth Thorn’s whereabouts from Emily and the Po Bidau family’s information network. I won’t let that power slip from my grasp this time.

She knows that Bam’s fate will undeniably lead him to the fragment, but she can use that to her advantage. Plus, there’s always the Po Bidau family’s High Rankers—such useful tools, much better than that whimsical White.

“Well, how about it? I’ll tell you if you take me along to look for the Fourth Thorn. I can tell you a little about its whereabouts, and we can see who’s worthy this time, fair and square.” Even if you don’t like me, you’ll still take this deal. It’s too good to refuse.

Bam nods slowly. “Fair and square…I understand.”

The alarm bells in her head are back again, this time ringing louder than before. “…Really?” She asks suspiciously, eyes narrowed. “But I won’t be a hostage this time. I’ll take High Rankers with me too.”

Bam nods again. “I understand…that you haven’t changed at all.”

Once, after Khun had fallen into a near-death coma, he had let her go. For all his grand claims about walking his own path when training to fight Data Jahad, a persistent part of him still eagerly soaked up any information about his origins. But Bam’s no longer the confused boy crying about his lost star. This Bam is so much greedier, so true to her words, he became a Monster, a Slayer, a God, and anything else he had to in order to protect the ones he cares about.

She had come the closest to killing Khun short of That Day. An Irregular capable of messing up fate and armed with knowledge way beyond her means, someone willing to use and hurt anyone for her stars, she remains a continued danger to his friends—a ticking time bomb just waiting for the perfect worst moment to go off—even if she never shows herself in front of him again. Though, he highly doubts that’s possible anyways. Fickle fate always seems to make their paths intersect in the most frustrating manner.

And he won’t tolerate any more danger to Khun.

The three Slayers each find a High Ranker to fight while Bam makes short work of her divine sea creatures, raining down Water Dragon – Heavy Storm to take care of the weaker shinheuh while disorienting the stronger ones. He deftly dodges some bites, needles, and poison attacks while using the shinsu loop to gather energy into an orb, finally unleashing Seven Dragon Endless Sky on the group of shinheuh, killing a few. The rest is just a matter of time. Yura Ha has long been knocked aside, that annoying suitcase shattered by a well-timed orb filled with shinsu from the Thorn fragments. He finally has Rachel cornered.

Everything’s going well until Po Bidau Gustang shows up, summoned by an amulet she crushes with fierce hatred and fear, just before a Floral Butterfly Piercing Technique hits her. “You forced me to do this!”

When the residual shinsu clears away, Bam is not surprised to see Rachel perfectly unharmed, shielded by a translucent wall of white shinsu as Po Bidau Gustang calmly steps into the air above the desert, the portal closing behind him. The family head’s disinterested gaze flickers from the trembling Rachel before landing on Bam. A brief spark of interest appears in those bespectacled eyes. “So we meet again, Son of Arlene. You’ve certainly grown much since I last saw you.”

“Mr. Gustang.” Bam greets him, though his entire body remains tense, ready to spring into battle in an instant. Today, he’ll end this…whatever this is between him and Rachel. She had taken his friends hostage and tried to murder Khun in cold blood. Bam knew, of course. Had known ever since his heart sank in sickening fear and denial when the words “yellow freckled turtle” left Rak’s mouth. Khun’s coma…was his fault too, for asking Mr. Gustang to heal her on the Floor of Death.

It might be too late to undo the past, but it’s not too late to take responsibility for his mistakes and keep his real friends safe. It’s not too late to fix things. Bam won’t allow anyone to stand in his way. He starts gathering shinsu to ignite the Thorn fragments while drawing out the Red and Blue Thryssas. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gustang, but I need to settle matters with Rachel.”

Gustang slowly weighs his options as he takes in the situation at hand. “I promised the vermin to protect her life once.” He pauses, sharp eyes catching the telltale signs of Thorn ignition as Bam reacts to those words. “…and that has been fulfilled. We will meet again.”

“Once? But that was just one attack! You’re supposed to protect me from him, at least for this entire battle!” Rachel shouts, expression twisted in disbelief. Po Bidau Gustang doesn’t give her a second glance as he orders the Po Bidau family High Rankers to leave, forming a portal behind him and crisply stepping through it. The High Rankers follow soon after, though one is heavily wounded from His Majesty’s frenzied attacks.

“W-wait! How can you hurt me? You’ll never learn about Arlene and the outside world if you do that!” The boy in front of her has never felt so foreign, like an alien wearing human skin. She can’t see any trace of the lonely child who had clung to her every word in this…this monster who won’t hesitate to kill her.

Bam shakes his head. “You still don’t understand? Then I’ll make it clear: I. Don’t. Care.” Fiery eyes blaze with a determined light. “I’m going to move forward now, no matter what my past is, or what destiny may hold. I’ll protect them this time. There won’t be any more goodbyes.”

He takes a step forward just as she takes one back. “Rachel…let’s end this, once and for all.” The finality in his voice is unmistakable.

The fear is apparent in her eyes now, but she doesn’t give up. When she sees that information about his past will no longer move him, she switches tactics. “Didn’t you promise that you’d never touch me as long as I don’t appear in front of you or your little group of friends? Well, I haven’t touched them at all! So why are you doing this?!”

Bam merely stares at her with hollow, sunken eyes. He’s pretty sure he’s experienced all possible spectrums of human emotions with regards to Rachel. All he feels now are emptiness and exhaustion. “I lied.”

They stay like that, staring at each other. Rachel is the first to break the silence, laughing hysterically with crazed eyes. “So that’s it? After all that pretending, you’re finally showing your true colors! Hahahaha! I knew it! Arlene was right, you’re just a freak.”

Silence. Bam makes no reaction to her taunting scorn.

In the end, she breaks down crying. “This is all unfair! You had everything handed to you—amazing power, a bright destiny, friends who actually care about you, happiness. How can you of all people do this to me?! I hate you! Do you know how much I hate you? You stole everything from me! I……hate you so much.” For a while, she simply cries, one hand clenched into a fist by her side while the other wipes the tears away. Then her expression twists into sadistic glee. “Face it. You’re a monster, Bam. One day all your friends will realize that, and you’ll lose everything when they leave you!”

Bam silently lets her finish. A last wish for his first star. “Goodbye, Rachel.”

A simple Black-Hole Sphere later and all traces of her are gone.

“Let’s go.” He doesn’t look back.

“Say…” Bam speaks up for the first time that night, back in his own room. For once, he’s not talking to the lighthouses. “If they decide to leave me one day…that might be for the best.” He stares at nothing in particular.

Jue Viole Grace patiently waits for Bam to continue.

“They’ll be free to actually live their lives instead of getting dragged into battle after battle. They won’t have to hide like wanted fugitives anymore. They won’t have to worry about getting hurt or killed by Rankers or High Rankers.”

You mean you won’t have to worry about them.

“I’ve already lost Khun. I can’t…lose anyone else,” Bam insists. “Nobody is allowed to die for me.”

...Then you should tell them that yourself.

Finally. The fourth and final Thorn fragment. It had been quite a journey involving Hell Joe, two of Bloodmadder’s children, a tropical island complete with a beach and giant crabs, and, as always, Jahad’s High Rankers, who are now actively trying to stop them from gathering the complete Thorn.

The Fourth Thorn comes with the ability to imbue life energy into living organisms and accelerate their growth. Useful, but also quite useless. Bam stares at the jagged Thorn fragment that he’d fought countless High Rankers to obtain, and he fights back the wave of despair that threatens to drown and crush him afoot. Is there really no way? No, there has to be. If I can just combine them…

“The Fourth Thorn can be combined with the Second Thorn to imitate Khel Hellam’s mass teleportation. But there’s nothing about turning back time or restoring a soul.” Bam has studied up on all that he can get his hands upon in his missions and from FUG about souls and resurrection. Heck, he’s pretty sure he knows even more than White about restoring souls at this point.

There’s currently a lull in the war after the most recent battle to obtain the Thorn. Both sides are preparing for the inevitable escalation, where even High Rankers will be ants and some 10 Great Family Heads will take the stage. It’s the calm before the storm. As usual, Bam takes whatever time he can to train and familiarize himself with the latest levels of transformation for the Red and Blue Thryssas, and of course, explore the functions of the last two Thorns he just obtained.

He’s hit a roadblock in this regard. Nothing happens when the four fragments gather together. No blinding flash of light or magical fusion into an enormous red Thorn. Just four jagged crystal-looking things emanating strange shinsu. Something’s missing.

Bam takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, holding his hands out in front of him as he draws out the reservoir of shinsu from within himself, and he imagines it coalescing into dense orbs of shinsu, surrounding the Thorn fragments and melding together. To be honest, it’s not really doing anything other than breaking all shinsu output measuring devices, so Bam smashes the orbs together, the different powers and qualities blending into a—oh. Oh. The faintest tugging at the back of his mind, a warm red ember reminiscent of the shinsu from the Thorns. Now we’re getting somewhere.

Evan catches Bam in the hallway, as though he had been waiting for him. His sudden appearance startles Bam. He hasn’t seen the Guide for years, not since the Hell Train.

“Mr. Evan! How are you?” Bam greets the White Dwarf.

“Bam, it’s been a while.” Evan’s expression is unusually grave. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Bam notices Evan’s serious tone and nods, following him to an empty meeting room.

“Like the Red Witches, we White Dwarves can also see snippets of the future. We can see the crossroads,” he begins before pausing, hesitation apparent in his voice. “Honestly, I’m not even sure I’m making the right decision by telling you this, but I have a feeling that this is something you need to know. Twenty-Fifth Bam, you’re at a junction. You should proceed with caution.”

At Bam’s nonplussed gaze, Evan’s tone loses some of its solemnity. “Well, I said all that—Lady Yuri would probably scold me for sounding so mysterious—but not even I can actually see an Irregular’s crossroads.”

“Huh?” Bam can’t hide his surprise. “Then how did you know?”

Evan sighs. “Because it’s just that critical of a choice, Twenty-Fifth Bam. It’ll affect everyone whose paths are intertwined with yours, and the effects will ripple throughout the entire tower.”

“Can you—can you see what those choices entail?” Bam ventures cautiously.

“It’s hard to say. There are so many possible paths branching off from this junction, but broadly speaking, the two largest paths pertain to either the continuation of the current era or the dawn of a new one. The former is self-explanatory and the most likely; I’m sure you know that well.”

Bam purses his lips at that, but he can’t deny the truth of Evan’s words.

“The latter, however, is trickier. In theory, the new era will overthrow the old one and bring the tower to new heights, but it’s changed since the last time I saw you on the Hell Train. There’s a darkness permeating that path now…” Evan trails off, as if looking to Bam for answers.

Bam nods attentively, not quite understanding or perhaps not quite willing to understand the implications behind Evan’s words.

Unable to see anything from Bam’s silence or his carefully blank expression, Evan continues helplessly, “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. In the end, no one can tell you what path to choose. But whatever you do, don’t lose sight of yourself.”

“Mr. Evan, are you saying that I might lose those precious to me even in the second choice?”

“It’s very likely.”

“Then I won’t choose any of those.” Bam suddenly raises his head and stares Evan down, golden eyes shining with an almost manic glint. “I’ve had enough of saying goodbye to the people I care about. There won’t be any more farewells. I’ll make sure of that. Thank you for telling me this, Mr. Evan.”

When Bam leaves, he misses the way Evan shakes his head. So that’s it. There was never a crossroads. “Is that why you didn’t stop me, Red Witch?”

“I think I’m on to something,” Bam begins excitedly that night. The lighthouse silently hovers in midair, ever the attentive listener as it casts an eerie blue glow over his entire room. Bam doesn’t think he will ever get tired of the sight. “Strangely enough, the Thorns aren’t reacting to each other. Even the FUG researchers are surprised because everyone assumed that they would magically fuse together once we collect all four.” He smiles bitterly, “Well, they didn’t. React, that is. But when I shot them through a shinsu loop and basically smashed them together, I suddenly sensed something. I can sense it even now. Wait for me, Khun. I’ll see you soon.”

“Next mission so soon?” Hatz stares at him with the barest hints of a frown when he catches Bam hurriedly packing some energy bars into his lighthouse. They’re all still recovering from the aftermath of the last battle, so it’s unusual that Bam, the one who fought the hardest, would accept a mission already. Plus, it’s the middle of the night.

“Yeah, something came up.” Bam offers an apologetic smile. “Sorry, can you please let my friends and masters know? I have to do this.”

Hatz’s frown deepens as he searches Bam’s expression, as if trying to find something. After a moment, he must have found whatever he’s looking for, because Hatz gives a slow nod as he promises seriously, “Alright. I swear on my honor. But you better be back in time for the battle.”

Bam smiles in relief. “Thank you, Hatz! Of course, I won’t miss it for the world.”

He leaves that same day, well before the crack of dawn.

Somehow, Bam knows instinctively that Enryu is not on any Floor, perhaps because that bright red shinsu would be a dead giveaway if he ever appeared on the tower proper. The Thorns lead him through cracks and crevices, distortions in locations Administrators had long since abandoned, sometimes tearing open a path when there isn’t one—he can do that now too, by combining the spatial abilities of the Second Thorn with his extreme sensitivity to the tiniest flow of shinsu he’d worked hard to master over years of training. Some of the spaces Bam travels through have no shinsu at all. Bam’s never been more thankful for his own infinite supply of shinsu, further augmented now that he can draw more from the four Thorn fragments.

Along the way, idle thoughts inundate Bam’s mind. Ever since he learned about a part of his past from Garam Jahad, Bam’s been filled with a flood of questions that he wants to ask if he ever sees the legendary Irregular. Why did you disappear after leaving the Thorn behind? Are you really god’s messenger? Who is the god on the outside? What happened to my mother ? Who am I? What’s the outside world like? Or perhaps the one he was most afraid to ask: What am I? Sure, he’d gone through a lot of soul-searching and won’t let his past define his present and future, but that doesn’t mean he’s not curious.

But Bam’s not going for answers. Not this time, at least, so he pushes these thoughts out of his mind and continues on.

Enryu’s hidden in an independent dimension, cut off from the Administrators’ eyes or any prying lighthouse by hundreds of thousands of layers of intricately interlinked webs of shinsu. Even Bam has to marvel at his absolutely exquisite shinsu mastery. Camouflage, deception, counter-surveillance, isolation, counter-detection, temperature control, time control, shinsu stability, and a myriad of other functions that Bam doesn’t even know about, all seamlessly woven together into a tapestry of vermillion.

Bam senses Enryu’s unique shinsu signature not long after entering the bubble of shinsu, and his mind can’t help comparing him with Urek Mazino. They’re both tremendously powerful Irregulars in their own rights—enough to give Jahad a run for his money and then some—but possess vastly disparate auras.

Whereas Mr. Urek is spontaneous and uninhibited, a tempest of passion filled to the brim waiting to burst out, Mr. Enryu is methodical and reserved, a tranquil ocean hiding a raging calamity underneath its placid waters, boundless and unstoppable. Like Mr. Urek, an aura of assured confidence surrounds Mr. Enryu, a sort of imperturbable inevitability to his actions. Instinctively, Bam can sense that Mr. Enryu’s figure contains immeasurable power, the greatest of anyone he’s seen so far. Not suffocating like Jahad’s had been, pressing down with the domineering desire to conquer everything in sight, but everything about him speaks to a finality befitting of a natural calamity.

Enryu observes him with an unfathomable gaze. Dressed in a nondescript leaden-blue buttoned long coat and simple black pants with a white muffler loosely around his neck, he would look like just another resident of the tower if not for his trademark red hair and eyes, but he’s certainly Enryu. The name that Regulars and Rankers alike utter with generous amounts of fear and awe. He had torn through the 43rd floor with all the force of a natural disaster and vanished just as quickly.

Some corner of Bam’s mind wonders in vague curiosity about this person whose entire existence is wrapped up in enigmas second to only Phantaminum. Bam is burning with the desire to ask about Arlene and his own origins. But the questions that would have occupied his entire mind on a normal day have been tossed aside with all the care Khun affords for his own life, for this isn’t a normal day. Hasn’t been for a long time. This is the closest he’s ever come to saving Khun, and he’ll be damned if he lets anyone ruin this, even if that person is himself.

“Mr. Enryu?” Bam doesn’t even need to ask, not when all four Thorn fragments are humming in contentment at the presence of familiar shinsu. “I’m Twenty-Fifth Bam. Nice to meet you.”

Enryu nods at him in acknowledgment. “Likewise, Child of Arlene.” His eyes are knowing, though not unkind. “What is it that you seek? Be aware that you can only ask one thing though.”

Bam’s not sure what he sees. Arlene’s child? A god? A monster? Doesn’t matter as long as he can help Khun. “I heard you can create life out of shinsu.” He takes care to keep the tremors, the desperation, out of his voice. “Will it work for the dead?” Bam tenses after he finishes, bracing himself for the inevitable fall out. It’s blasphemy, of course, and it’s understandable if Mr. Enryu takes this the wrong way—

But Enryu merely regards him with sad red eyes. “I’m sorry. Even if I did, that would be a different person altogether. Memories, feelings, thoughts—none of those would be the same. But that’s not what you want, is it?”

Of course not. It won’t be the same Khun who had befriended a lonely boy chasing after a star and changed that boy’s life forever.

“No, that won’t be Khun anymore.” Bitterly, Bam thinks that he really needs to get used to this. It’s certainly not the first time he has run into a dead-end, but his vision is spinning, and he’s afraid he’ll scatter away any second now. He just hopes that he doesn’t collapse in front of Mr. Enryu. That would be bad.

“Still, thank you, Mr. Enryu.” There’s not much to say after that. He can only ask one question, and he had already done that. Mr. Enryu had been nothing but nice to him, so Bam thinks he should stop troubling him further and turns to leave after giving a slight smile in farewell.

“What will you do next?” Enryu asks, voice neutral.

“Oh!” Bam turns around, startled. “I haven’t thought that far yet. But if worst comes to worst...” He shrugs, smiling helplessly. “...I’ll just have to beat Jahad and climb to the top of the tower. There must be something up there, something that can justify why everyone’s trying so hard to climb the tower. Perhaps a gate to the afterlife, if there is one? Or maybe a time-traveling power, but then I’d have to decide when to travel to, if I can choose at all,” Bam considers, clearly having given a lot of thought to this.

An infinitesimal tilt of the head, and a voice curiously devoid of emotions. “You’re not going to give up?”

“Why would I?” Brows furrow in genuine confusion as puzzled eyes of molten gold stare into scarlet ones. “Sure, it hurts that I can’t do anything, even with the complete Thorn, but then again, I never expected this to be easy.”

“Commendable determination.” Enryu nods slowly in approval. “But I never said anything about the Thorn, merely that I am incapable of resurrecting the dead.”

Bam stares at him blankly, gaze uncomprehending before it clicks, and all of a sudden, any words he’d planned to say are smashed right out of his mouth, and he forgets how to breathe, feeling like he’d just taken a direct hit to the chest from one of Urek Mazino’s Supreme King’s Scorching Fists of Death. Now the world is truly spinning, giddy euphoria threatening to burst out of his chest despite knowing that he shouldn’t get his hopes up—because surely Mr. Enryu means something else—his head swirling with thoughts of seeing Khun again, hoping against hope that this isn’t a dream. “Then—does that mean…” Bam doesn’t even bother trying to keep the raw desperation and fragile hope out of his voice this time.

“Your Thorn is a growing weapon that will burst out when needed. You’re probably aware that it has yet to be fully activated. In other words, it reacts to your condition, your desires. In theory, it’s possible to force it to gain the ability you most desire when you fuse the four fragments together,” Enryu explains, “but even with the Thorn, it won’t be easy to restore someone who’s been dead for so long. Activating the Thorn to this magnitude will irreversibly alter your fate and leave you vulnerable to your enemies. That’s why I wanted to make sure this is truly your wish, even more than your desire to learn the truth about your origins.” He gives a wry smile at this. “It’s a good thing you didn’t choose to ask about your past. I couldn’t have answered that even if you’d asked. Telling you the truth now will only lead to your undoing, but don’t let it plague you; everything will eventually come to light when you’re strong enough to handle it.”

Bam’s finding it difficult to concentrate on Mr. Enryu’s explanation, not when he’d just received definitive proof that the Thorn might just work. Even so, his disoriented brain manages to pick up on something. “Wait, then when you said I could only ask for one thing…”

“A test. What you’re about to attempt will only have even the slightest chance of succeeding if there is no hesitation at all in your heart.” Those piercing red eyes study him again, glowing with wisdom that can see through his very soul. “Will you be able to do that?” Enryu asks quietly.

Bam smiles softly, a faraway look in his eyes as he contemplates his life thus far. “At first I thought—how nice would it be, if no one has to get hurt anymore, if I could save everyone?” The smile slowly disappears as he stares at the ground. “But it turns out that some people mean more to me than others. Then I was determined to move forward—I thought I could continue forging ahead, no matter how many people got hurt…” Bam unconsciously clenches his hands. “...but I realized that I couldn’t do that either. I’ve neither the impartiality of a god nor the conviction of a monster. I’m a failure at both, an ordinary person unworthy of those titles.”

Enryu remains silent, expression unreadable as he listens.

“I’m just…” Bam takes a deep breath as he raises his head to meet Enryu’s gaze. “I’m just the Twenty-Fifth Bam. There are things I fear more than death, and there’s a person I fear losing above all else, because no matter how much I tell myself it’ll get better with time...” Bam purses his lips, averting his gaze to the ground as he dully intones, “It’s been three years, ten months, eighteen days, and four hours, yet the part of me that died with him that day still hasn’t returned.” He sighs and admits softly, “I don’t think it ever will, not as long as he’s gone.”

Bam looks up again, intense golden eyes fiery with a mixture of unwavering resolve and haunted desperation. “I still don’t really understand complicated concepts like fate, but what I do know is that I want to protect him from the bottom of my heart. More than defeating Jahad, more than finding myself, I just…want to be with Khun. It’s selfish of me, especially when so much is at stake right now. Still,” he continues, swallowing hard, “I’m going to follow my heart. Whether that’s right or wrong, I don’t know…but at the very least, I will no longer live a life full of regrets. I’ve decided to forge my own path. If that ends badly, I’ll take full responsibility for it.”

Bam stares directly at Enryu. The rational part of his mind is telling him that it’s probably not the best idea to be so honest to—for all intents and purposes—a stranger he’d just met, but be it Bam’s sleep-deprived brain, or the fact that these feelings had been pent up for too long, or even Mr. Enryu’s familiar and comforting presence, the result is that Bam suddenly finds himself tired and unable to care about the potential consequences of expressing his true thoughts.

If Enryu is surprised by Bam’s speech, he doesn’t show it. “Then I’ll explain the process. The shinsu in this dimension will provide the energy necessary to facilitate the fusion. As soon as the ritual starts, you’ll have to control the emerging Thorn. You absolutely can’t stop once you start. Hesitate even once in the middle of it, and everything will be over. Once it reverts to its purest essence, make contact with it. You’ll know what to do after that.” He pauses before making one last exhortation, “But make haste, or else you might not return in one piece.”

“I understand.” Bam dutifully notes the critical details even though he doesn’t completely understand Mr. Enryu’s warnings right now.

“This is the extent I can help. The rest will depend on you,” Enryu says solemnly, “May you succeed.”

“Thank you, Mr. Enryu. I vow to repay this grace someday.”

For the first time since their conversation, Enryu chuckles in amusement, waving aside Bam’s oath. “Don’t bother, I barely did anything.” His expression dims, red eyes dark with some unfathomable emotion and tiredness. “Walk your own path, Twenty-Fifth Bam. I hope we meet again under happier circumstances.”

Before Bam has a chance to thank him again, Enryu’s figure disappears in a flash of red light, blinding him. Bam shakes his head to clear his dazed state as the last few spots disappear from his vision. That meeting had gone surprisingly well, all things considered.

Bam stretches out his senses to cover the entire shinsu bubble. He’s never felt this invigorated by the sheer density and quality of shinsu around him. After resting and meditating for a moment to ensure he’s in peak condition for the ritual, Bam starts. Today we’re going to see each other again, Khun, one way or another.

Four jagged shards flash into existence one after another and begin greedily swallowing the shinsu in their immediate surroundings. All the shinsu inside the enormous bubble start to churn, swirling into a vortex around the Thorns as they pour endless energy into the diamond-shaped pieces. Bam, standing in the eye of the whirlpool, remains motionless with his arms held out in front of him, eyes closed as he feels for his connection to the fragments, which are almost filled to the bursting point by the influx of shinsu, normally an impossible feat in and of itself.

The Thorns shine with a brilliant red light, coloring Bam’s entire vision with a crimson hue, and gradually begin to emit dazzling white rays as they absorb even more shinsu, their shapes becoming more fluid and indistinct. Finally, the liquid Thorns revert into four white orbs shimmering with the purest shinsu concentration that Bam has ever seen, straining to wrench themselves out of his control and escape. Bam grits his teeth as he draws from his own aquarium of powers to help with the tug-of-war but knows that it’s a losing battle.

Fine, be that way. Suddenly the maelstrom of shinsu surrounding them forms into a gigantic red orb dotted with hints of black and blue, securely enclosing all four fragments inside. I can’t hold this for long. The Red and Blue Thryssas are almost fully materialized behind him, but even still, his head is stinging from a piercing pain as Bam tries to manipulate more shinsu than he can currently handle. It feels like his muscles will rip apart any second now.

Almost…there. Bam clenches his fist, and the shinsu orb follows suit, slowly but surely shrinking down in size until it’s roughly as small as a pocket, after which Bam hurriedly severs his control over the surrounding shinsu before he can pass out, grunting as he uses Blue Thryssa’s shield to block the brunt of the resulting backlash that rocks through the entire region.

Panting and catching his breath, Bam observes the newly merged Thorn, which is merely a shapeless mass of highly compact shinsu emitting faint crimson rays of light, distorting the space around it from the sheer density of shinsu alone. Entranced, Bam crosses the few steps to the Thorn and makes contact before he can stop himself. Darkness engulfs his vision but recedes just when Bam thinks he’s about to collapse.

“This is?” Everything that constitutes the physical world—from the particles in the air to the minerals in the ground, down to the tiniest droplet of shinsu—is permeated with immeasurable lines of fate interwoven together into the very fabric of reality. Bam’s instincts tell him that he is observing the world from another angle, an abstruse perspective he’s not meant to understand yet. Even his own body has lost its form, curving and stretching like rubber.

Every line is different, comprised of things both tangible and intangible, filled with all manners of paths that zigzag, twist, turn, and circle back, converging and diverging into tangled messes, limitless in their varieties and way too much for Bam’s overworked brain, but even more than the physical appearances of the lines, it’s the metaphysical that’s making his head teeter on the verge of imploding, because—

All past, present, and possible futures are superimposed upon each other yet not, existing at the same time in a contradictory manner, incomprehensible in its wrongness and utterly unintelligible in its limitless vastness. Bam’s brain is overloaded from merely trying to process what he sees, and his sanity is close to slipping forever, but the only thought that can penetrate the chaos is Khun//find//Khun. Surprisingly, the lines do respond to him, but Bam is too far gone for surprise, or much of anything really.

Soon his eyes make out a light silver-blue line drawing a graceful arc before abruptly ending, unassuming compared to the others, yet splendid in its path and dazzling to Bam’s bleeding and ravaged eyes. Bam fixes his gaze upon that single fate, all other destinies fading out of sight. Belatedly, he realizes that he can think now, but remembering Enryu’s warning and his own gut feeling, knows that he can’t linger for long.

So he tugs that fate closer to him while rushing towards it, wings unconsciously forming even in this perspective, but all its futures inevitably point to gone//empty//dead, and Bam...Bam’s come too far to let something like death or fate or destiny separate them, so in a moment of desperation that is admittedly not his brightest idea, he grabs the only fate he can freely control, his own, and joins them together—

…I think I really messed up this time—

—and he does collapse this time as pain unlike anything Bam has ever felt before tears his very soul apart, destiny screaming in his ears, a tiny corner of his mind wondering why it sounds like Arlene even though he’s never heard her voice, before the pain shuts that corner down too, the noise reverberating throughout all possibilities of his future paths even as his consciousness is ripped apart—

Oh shut it, at least let me die in peace.

—is his last coherent thought before slipping away.

Two unconscious people abruptly materialize in midair in front of the colossal red Thorn, which reaches all the way to the scarlet sky. Tendrils of red shinsu gently envelop their prone forms before gravity can do its work, slowly lowering them to the ground. Enryu reappears at the same time, lightly landing on the ground, the wind faintly pushing his bangs back.

His eyes glow crimson as the shinsu enclosing Bam in a cocoon becomes invigorated with what can only be described as life itself, surging into the unconscious Irregular and healing his injuries in both body and soul as shinsu painstakingly and meticulously stitches the tattered pieces of Bam’s soul back together, only giving a satisfied nod when the seriousness of Bam’s wounds fall from “life-threatening permanent damage” to “gradual recovery with the Thorn’s regeneration”. The second one has no injuries and is merely unconscious, so he decides to leave it to Bam to wake that one up.

Emergency healing finished, Enryu merely stands there motionlessly, gazing at Bam with an inscrutable expression.

“A shared fate?” Enryu murmurs after an indeterminate amount of time passes. “Interesting. I’ve never seen anything like it. Not even I can see his fate now. If his path can one day bring him happiness, then perhaps this is for the best......wouldn’t you say, Arlene?”

Bam wakes up feeling like he’d just hacked up his internal organs and had them stuffed back inside the hard way; phantom pains and aches cover his body.

I’m alive. Half a beat later. Where’s Khun? He tries to sit up but fails miserably, unable to lift even a finger. Bam lies on the ground and stares at the blood-red sky with unseeing eyes while nursing the mother of all headaches. He doesn’t feel fully real, fully anchored yet, still suffering from the remnant aftershocks, a constant buzzing in his ears and a dull ache throughout his body.

The headache isn’t enough to stop Bam from organizing his thoughts, not when he can feel the barest hints of ice affinity shinsu close by. He needs to understand what just happened. Is Khun alive? Is he okay? I really hope I didn’t mess anything up…Right. Thorn. Lines of fate. Khun…I connected our fates. What does that mean? Think.

It’s hard to think right now, but this is very important. Bam recalls the feeling in that instant. It almost feels like I pulled him across time…to the present? He can faintly feel threads of his ‘destiny’—an instinct he seems to have gained ever since the trip to that angle of the world—hum in affirmation. Something feels fundamentally different about his fate, as though certain strings tying him to a preordained path had disappeared.

It’s just a feeling though. Bam casts the thought aside. More importantly, is…is that Khun? How is he?

His left ring finger gives a minuscule twitch, but Bam immediately notices. He struggles to pour feeling back into his limbs and finally succeeds in propping himself up with his elbows, now able to observe the source of the ice shinsu he sensed. And there he is, wearing the same outfit he had during the Nest battle, the outfit that had appeared in countless versions of Bam’s nightmares.

Am I still dreaming? Bam’s amazed and incredulous brain wonders, dazed. Khun’s lying on his back, silver-blue hair taking on a reddish tint due to the lighting. But his deep blue eyes remain closed, the sight greatly reminiscent of the casket on the Hell Train. The thought of that instantly snaps Bam out of his stupor, and he’s already beside Khun before he even processes what just happened.

“Khun! Are you okay?” Idiot. Of course he’s not. “Please wake up!”

Everything inside him is telling Bam to hug Khun and hold him close and never let go, but Bam, in a moment of weakness…can’t. He can’t bear to touch Khun only to realize he’s an illusion conjured up by his imagination, shattering into a million pieces from the barest brush of Bam’s fingers and breaking his heart along with the fragile, brittle hope that flickers to life no matter how many times it’s mercilessly stamped out by harsh reality.

“No, focus.” Bam shakes his head vigorously. “This is no time to have a breakdown. Khun needs me,” Bam says as he takes a steadying breath. If this is a dream, then let me never wake up.

Gingerly, his right hand feels Khun’s forehead. Solid. Warm. Not feverish. Joy springs up in Bam, and he hurriedly scans Khun with his shinsu. Nothing’s wrong, so why isn’t he waking up? The joy turns leaden and drops to the pit of his stomach as a sinking despair settles in, like a cruel joke fate is playing on them. No. No. This can’t be happening.

“Khun! Wake up!” No response. Bam wants to shake him silly but Khun looks so fragile and breakable, and he’s so afraid. He resorts to desperate pleadings instead. “Didn’t you say you wanted to reach the top of the tower together? There’s no way we can do that without our best Light Bearer and strategist.”

Khun remains perfectly still, as if he’s simply sleeping peacefully.

“Please, come back, Khun. Everyone misses you. I miss you.” Bam’s vision blurs, and his fingers dig into the arid land as drops of tears fall onto the ground. “I-I’m sorry, Khun. I couldn’t honor your last wish. I couldn’t be happy. You…” Bam takes a stuttering breath as he tries to suppress the tears, “... you’re my happiness, Khun. Please.”

The joking humor in his tone has long since disappeared, leaving only raw, broken desperation. “I need you.” And then, a whisper barely heard over the breeze, “I love you.”

Bam can’t bring himself to look into Khun’s eyes after that, even though he knows full well that his best friend’s eyes are closed. His gaze traces the outlines of Khun’s slender fingers only to see the tiniest hints of a twitch. Did I imagine that? Bam’s eyes widen as he stares unblinkingly at Khun, and he is soon rewarded with a slight movement of the brows, followed by the most breathtaking pair of ocean blue eyes that Bam has ever seen.

“Khun! You’re awake! Thank goodness!” Pure, unadulterated joy fills his entire being, burying all other emotions. Even if this is a dream, please let me remain for a while longer. Bam gazes at Khun, greedily drinking in every detail, from the little side braids to his cute disoriented expression as he tries to make sense of the situation to—oh, gosh. Those eyes. Pulling him into their depths and making him feel like he’s drowning in them.

“Bam? What happened?” Bewilderment overtakes Khun as he registers his unfamiliar surroundings—Strange, I’m sure I’ve never been anywhere with a red sky before—and Bam, who’s leaning over him while using his hands to prop himself up, big eyes swollen and red from crying but gazing at him with such adoration and happiness that Khun is at a loss for words.

“What—” He suddenly hisses in pain as memories of the final moments in the Nest battle come back to him, and he closes his eyes as he presses the fist of his right hand on his forehead to calm the raging headache.

His eyes finally snap open again after a short while. “I died...” And then horror dawns in those beautiful eyes as he abruptly sits up, ignoring Bam’s protests that he should rest for a bit more. “Bam. What did you do? Did you make a deal with White? Another demon? An Administrator? …Jahad? ” There’s a very obvious wince at the last option. “Please tell me you didn’t make a deal with Jahad.”

Bam doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his best friend’s quick wit. Trust Khun to figure things out so fast after coming back to life. He settles for doing both, trying to rub the tears out of his eyes as he flashes Khun a warm smile. “No, not Jahad. And not any of the other people either,” Bam hurriedly adds when he sees that Khun is about to ask about the others.

Khun frowns. “But you brought me back to life.” His tone is flat. Even so, the disbelief is so thick it’s literally dripping from his words.

Bam nods slowly, the same look in his eyes as when he’s trying and failing to do mental math. “More or less? There’s a lot more about it that I don’t understand though.”

“You can bring people back to life now.” Khun’s voice is still flat, the disbelief giving way to weary acceptance. “What price did you pay, Bam?” The whisper is so heartbreaking and not something Khun should ever have to feel, especially when the object of his concern is Bam.

“I really didn’t,” Bam swiftly objects, trying to reassure Khun. He sighs when the incredulousness is even more apparent on Khun’s expression, the beginnings of a frown deepening. “It’ll probably be easier if I explain from the beginning.”

Khun says nothing in silent assent, staring fixedly at Bam.

So Bam tries his best to explain about the Thorn fragments, Enryu, the complete Thorn, and that last part in the strange world, although Bam doesn’t fully understand what had just transpired either. He’s probably doing as good a job explaining the fate stuff as Rak, hands making wild gestures as he tries to interpret and make sense of his own disjointed impressions.

Khun is quiet throughout Bam’s recounting, mulling over the information. Bam can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to piece together Bam’s incoherent ramblings. Then sharp blue eyes focus on him. “Bam. You…gave up your fate to save me?”

Innocent eyes scrunch up in thought as Bam tilts his head, “No, I think…it’s more like I shared it?”

Khun, ever the astute one, thinks of what little he heard from the FUG Guide about Irregulars, Gods, and fate. “Jahad can influence fate, right? Will you be okay?”

“Khun. Nothing will mean anything without you.” Earnest golden eyes meet his gaze head-on, dazzling in their sincerity and intensity.

Khun studies him for a moment, eyes searching, and just when Bam thinks he said something wrong, Khun smiles the softest smile that makes Bam feel so warm and cozy that he’s melting. “I’m not going anywhere.”

—and Bam’s brain finally processes the fact that this Khun is warm, solid, real, and not a hallucination conjured up by his delirious mind on those nights when he’s at his lowest. He all but tackles Khun, face buried in Khun’s chest as tears of happiness well up, finally signaling an end to the long and exhausting nightmare. His hands grip the fabric of Khun’s outfit like a lifeline, fearful of losing his anchor to reality again.

Khun, bless him, always seems to understand exactly what Bam is thinking and doesn’t press Bam for the details regarding his resurrection, instead murmuring tender reassurances as he rubs Bam’s back in steady circles while patting his head. Everything else can wait. Right now, it’s just two lonely souls who need this moment to reassure themselves that they have each other.

Bam doesn’t know when it happens, but at some point, he must have fallen onto Khun’s lap. He moves to get up as soon as realization hits, but Khun gently pulls him back, laying Bam’s head on his lap. Soft and warm, thinks what’s left of Bam’s dumbfounded brain as he stares up at Khun, who is outlined against the backdrop of the blood-red sky. Is this what paradise feels like?

They stay like that, simply enjoying each other’s warmth and chatting away idyllically about nothing in particular. Khun’s eager to hear about Bam’s misadventures throughout the years, and Bam’s more than happy to comply. Khun arches an amused eyebrow at Bam when he finds an entire shelf of voice recordings in his lighthouse, helpfully titled by date, to which Bam merely looks away, his cheeks slightly red as he mumbles, “I know you hate to miss information. I thought first-hand accounts would be helpful, no?”

Khun chuckles, saving what’s left of Bam’s dignity from dying an inglorious death. “Thank you, Bam. For everything.”

Bam frowns and sits up so he can face Khun, ignoring the feeling of loss as he leaves Khun’s lap. “You shouldn’t be thanking me. It’s my fault that you—” died, lost years of your life again “—that the Nest battle happened,” he says instead.

“Bam, none of that was your fault.” Khun ignores Bam’s protests and plows on, “It’s useless to blame anyone. You might as well blame Jahad for ordering this war, or FUG for raising Slayers, or the Po Bidau Family for fanning the flames, or Kallavan and Mascheny Jahad for taking your master prisoner, or even Khel Hellam for teleporting the canine people to the Wall. The point is, everyone chose to fight for their own reasons. The best thing you can do is keep moving forward. Besides, I’m here now, so stop blaming yourself.”

“…Okay,” Bam grudgingly admits defeat after a while. “But only if you promise me you won’t ever do something like that again.”

“I won’t,” Khun vows. “I don’t want to experience those flames again either.” He shudders.

Bam smiles, even though he knows full well that Khun would give up his life again without a second thought if it meant saving Bam, just as Bam would do the exact same thing for Khun. He intends to have a conversation with Khun about that, but not right now.

“So…” Khun changes the subject to a safer topic, “...an all-out war with Adori Jahad now, and two of the Ten Great Families? At this rate, you’ll be fighting Jahad in no time.”

“Yeah, it’ll be difficult and dangerous. Even so, will you join me? You are my most cherished friend; I…want to go up with you. I feel like I can do anything as long as you’re with me.”

Khun laughs, light like the tinkling of bells. “So you still remember that?” His lips curl up mischievously, eyes glittering with amusement as he plays along. “Well, difficulty is my specialty. I warned you before, I will escort you to the top of the tower…in the most evil and sneaky way possible. Be prepared. Once we start, no matter how rough it gets, you won’t be able to get rid of me even if you try.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Seriously though, now you really can’t die anymore.” Bam glares at Khun, pouting. “Because if you do, I won’t be able to survive for much longer either.”

“What do you mean?” Khun’s expression darkens as he frowns.

“Just a gut feeling I got when our fates became connected,” Bam says softly with an eerie smile that Khun can’t quite place, a haunted look in his half-lidded eyes. “We’ve given each other enough heart attacks, don’t you think? You thought I was dead on the Floor of Tests. I almost saw you die in the Hand of Arlene, on the Hidden Floor, and in the Cage, and then…and then the Nest battle happened…and I actually saw you die in front of me.”

“I don’t think either of us will be lucky enough to come back to life again next time. I know for a fact the Thorn can’t be used like this again. And…” Bam admits, “I’m afraid that I’ll truly break if I have to see you die again.”

Khun pulls him into an embrace. “It’s the same for me. I promised to do anything to make sure you’re safe and happy when I found out you were still alive as Jue Viole Grace. I’m not letting you die again.”

“I should be saying that to you. I didn’t understand my heart before. You’re so wonderful, and I don’t know what I did to deserve you…so, I’m going to be selfish this time.” Bam leans back to stare straight into Khun’s cobalt eyes, drowning in them. “I want to be together with you.”

“That’s…Bam, do you even understand what you’re saying? You need all the powers you can get to fight Jahad, not use it on—on me—"

“Khun, I’m going to say it however many times it takes to get it through that thick skull of yours.” Bam ignores Khun’s affronted splutter at being called thick and continues, “Everything is meaningless without you. Besides,” he adds as his lips quirk into a teasing smile, “if you don’t want me to die, then all you have to do is make sure you also survive. Don’t tell me that the genius Khun Aguero Agnes, future head of the Khun family, is stumped by such a task?”

“…Bam.”

“Yes, Khun?” An adorable head tilt.

“It’s not fair when you deal critical damage with such earnest eyes.”

Those very same eyes light up in joy, shining brighter than the stars themselves. “So that’s a yes?”

“…Yeah, let’s be together from now on.”

Fin

Chapter Text

News flash: Bam can’t lie (this really shouldn’t be news though)

“Wait, you mean you guys always knew about my plan and never told me? You just watched me make a fool out of myself?” Bam tries his best to keep the betrayal out of his voice.

Rak snorts, “Black turtle, I always knew you’d save the blue turtle. You two turtles belong together, but you must tell me when mating season starts, so I can avoid—” The rest of his words are drowned out by a zap from Khun’s now-visible lighthouses.

Shibisu awkwardly coughs into his fist. “The last part aside, Rak is right, Bam. You wear your heart on your sleeve. We just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

Bam groans as he drops his head into his hands in sheer embarrassment. “My feelings…Gosh…I was so obvious, huh?”

Khun snickers from beside him, “You can’t lie to save your life.”

“But I can lie to save yours.”

“What—where did that come from, Bam? And that didn’t even make sense!” Now Khun’s the one red with embarrassment.

“Ahaha…I just wanted to try saying that once,” Bam admits bashfully, smiling apologetically while scratching the back of his head.

“Ahh geez! Stop flirting and get a room, you two!” Endorsi scowls.

Old man Ha Jinsung

Ha Jinsung sniffs. “My son is growing up. You’re making this old man feel so old.”

Karaka rolls his eyes and mutters in his head, “You’re literally a fossil.”

Sudden silence. He didn’t know he said that aloud. Well, now he does. All eyes turn to look at him, their gazes full of admiration, respect, and…sympathy. Karaka starts shivering from the murderous aura behind him.

Ha Jinsung cracks his knuckles. “While it makes your master happy that his students are growing up, rebellious kids should be taught a lesson, no?”

“Armor Inventory: get me the hell away from this crazy old man mode.”

Ha Jinsung cackles, cackles. “Using my gift against me? Wrong choice, disciple dearest.”

White whispers to Yama, “He must not have had the chance to give Khun the Dad Talk yet since Bam keeps clinging to Khun. How sad, the stress is getting to him.”

Slayer White is added to the list of Slayer casualties, the greatest in FUG history. Slayer Yama declines to comment.

Hwaryun the troll

“There’s no need to thank me. We all have our own reasons to fight. You’re not the only one who wants Jahad gone.” She turns to leave after that last reassurance, apparently having decided that emptying out the entire snack cabinet is as good as any a time to stop.

“…I’m sorry.” For whoever has to deal with the enormous fit Rak’s going to throw at finding that all his banana chips have disappeared.

Hwaryun stops. “Don’t be. It’s their fate to be screamed at by Rak.”

Bam rolls his eyes. “Okay, now I know you’re just trolling.”

Chestnuts roasting

“Hey, Hwaryun, can I borrow you for personal, non-Slayer-related reasons?”

“What is it, my God?” She tilts her head curiously, the slightest hints of furrowed eyebrows as she quickly runs through all the possibilities and, for once, is unable to come up with a reason for his request. She sighs at Bam’s Irregular identity that prevents her from seeing any paths directly related to him. In circumstances like these, Khun would have been a great asset to have by her God’s side. He’s always understood her God’s thoughts, even after all the growth and mental maturity Bam went through in the two years that Khun’s been in a coma.

…Wait. Coma. Her eyes widen in pleasant surprise. “You’re finally taking care of her ?”

Her God smiles, golden irises glowing like embers and somehow managing to appear both innocent and terrifying. “Yeah. If Khun’s ever going to come back, I’d like to take out the trash before that.”

Enryu is a shipper

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes I love him…”

“Are you absolutely sure no hesitation whatsoever?”

*Cue long sad speech*

“But are you really sure though?”

“Yes we’re soulmates and complete each other…”

“Definitively 100% positive sure?”

Bam pauses in the middle of his “Fourth Confession to Khun” speech on the “What if he rejects me” list. Gold eyes narrow in suspicion. “Are you…are you just trying to listen to me repeatedly profess my love for Khun?”

“…Tch. You noticed too soon.”

“Oh, no no. We can continue. I have 34 more speeches on this list, you see. I’ve got to prepare for the worst.”

Enryu nods, expression dead serious. “Indeed, prudence is a sign of good foresight. I shall help you edit them.”