Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’ll need you to stay here a while.” The voice might have been mocking, but she couldn’t be sure; Yullian had tuned Tartarus out a while ago.

It already took all her self control not to kick the Absolutian in the shins; she liked these shoes, and she wasn’t going to damage them for his sake. But she forced herself to look as demure and kidnap-able as possible, even as Absolute Tartarus shoved her deeper into the golden prison. She turned, hoping the hunched shoulders and few steps after him would be enough to convince him she wasn’t a threa—he was already gone.

Seriously? Yullian huffed in disappointment. She’d worked so hard on staying in character, too; 80 would have been very proud. Now she just hoped he didn’t worry too much while she was busy.

She took stock of her cell. Honestly, it wasn’t the worst place she’d been held hostage, but, really, a chair would have been nice. Golden walls of smoke hung everywhere she looked and clung to her boots–probably made with that golden Absolutian power, but she couldn’t be sure it was in The Kingdom itself. Perhaps a Sidespace, like the pocket dimensions an ultra’s host resided in when they fought together. 

How wide was the space? The murky walls made discerning any actual distance difficult, throwing off her depth perception. She glanced around, but froze and caught her breath as she realized she wasn’t alone. 

A smaller figure–no, not smaller, just farther off than she’d thought in the vastness of the cell. The room seemed at least the length of the Garrison command room…rather excessive for her and one more prisoner. Was it made for more?…or was this simply another assertion of power? She stepped forward, examining her cellmate.

 “You’re…?”

The figure knelt with his back to the far wall, backlit by the intense golden glow of the layers upon layers of blazing chains marring his wrists and arms. Slowly, he lifted his head at her voice. But if he spoke, the distance and the ambient hiss of his bonds masked the sound entirely.

Yullian ventured closer, studying the chains. This one must have put up a fight; she’d received no such restraints. She felt a flash of relief that she hadn’t kicked Tartarus’s shins. Maybe being underestimated had its benefits.

Still, she’d get him later.

Now she was close enough to study the new figure in more detail. He was Ultra, certainly, though not from the Land of Light. If L77 had survived she might have mistaken him for a native, but she shook off the thought; no one but Leo and Astra had survived that. The figure, perhaps disappointed that she hadn’t spoken again—or perhaps simply too exhausted to keep his head raised—let it drop again, breath shallow and too slow, shifting his shoulders slightly as if to try and alleviate the strain.

His shoulders… Yullian tripped forward the last few steps to examine them farther. The markings, she knew those, what were they… Of course! “That's the mark of the Cosmo Beast Fist,” she realized. 

Her companion might have attempted a shrug, but his awkward position only allowed another slight shift of the shoulders. But aside from that he made no response. Yullian frowned. She was rather proud of having remembered the old legend at all; so little happened in that part of space, most ultras didn’t bother to study it. 

Nevertheless, she pushed forward: “You’re from planet D60, of the Drago constellation.”

Oh, that got his attention. The bound figure lifted his gaze and, for the first time, he looked her straight in the face. “Who are you?” he managed. The voice was younger than she’d expected, but rough from disuse. Or possibly from the lingering golden smoke in the room?

“I’m Yullian, of M78.” She bent forward, examining the bonds more closely. They seemed to feed up and into the energy of the walls. “I take it you’re no friend of the Absolutians?”

An almost feral snarl answered that question. The kneeling figure seemed almost ready to leap to his feet and tear the Kingdom limb from limb, and even despite the bonds ,Yullian had to consciously keep herself from stepping back. But his fire cooled into the dark smolder she’d first seen in him. “They will pay,” he ground out like metal on flint, “for what they did.”

“Good. So you’ll help me?”

His gaze sharpened even farther, which Yullian hadn’t thought possible. His face seemed a perpetual scowl. “Help you? No offense, lady, but you’re as trapped as I am.” He tugged on his gleaming restraints, as if concerned she might have missed the set of six separate chains holding him in place. “Neither of us are going anywhere.”

Yullian had been though enough kidnapping and assassination attempts that she didn’t particularly listen to that remark. She was more curious about the nature of those bonds, what they were made of. 80 probably would have been able to say; he’d probably write her a compare/contrast essay on negative energy vs absolutian light-particles vs Diffarator rays…

Her hands stopped. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the sight of him from moments ago, the confusion in his face as he realized she wasn’t fighting back…the fear, the something-beyond-fear that choked his voice as she let herself be taken.

He must be terrified for her. 

…And honestly, 80 probably blamed himself for this too. He’d take it personally, as her royal bodyguard and all. Yullian tried to shrug off the guilt gnawing at her stomach. She’d apologize when she got out; she’d just have to be quick so he didn’t worry too much. He’d get wrinkles. 

Yullian’s gaze flicked back to the bound figure. He’d dropped his gaze, dismissing her. 

Yullian tended not to get along with people who dismissed her. 

“So you’re a quitter.” Yullian straightened and stepped back and gave as lofty a snort as she could. “I thought someone from D60 would have more spirit.”

Absolute silence answered that. Then a low, threatening growl: “ Say that again.” 

“You have ears.” Her hands pricked with energy as she found where one chain connected with the wall. Carefully, she removed her Princess Ornament and pressed the sharp edge against the edge of the chain. The ornament wasn’t strong enough to cut the bond, not completely. Not without help. “I’m disappointed,” she added. “Turns out you’re a quitter and a coward.”

She didn’t have time to finish her sentence, but she didn’t need to; it had done all it needed to do. The rage shook his voice. “How DARE you!” He thrashed against his bonds, and Yullian felt the chain shift . Slightly, but far from imperceptibly. She pressed the edge of the ornament against the far side of the bond, and the remaining threads of energy pulled free, disintegrating into sparks around his wrists.

The figure froze. He slowly flexed his wrist, eyes fixed on the spot where the absolutian’s chains had held him moments before. Then he lifted his gaze to Yullian. “What did you do..?”

“Doing,” corrected Yullian, moving to the next base of the chain. “You still have five bonds left, so I still need you to pull.” She continued pressing the sharp ornament to the base of the chain, a sound of annoyance escaping her as sparks flew towards her face as the chained figure turned to glare at her.

“You tricked me?”

Yullian put a hand to her chest in a gesture of offended dignity. “No? I just needed you to really want to get free.”

He stared as though she’d grown a second head. “And you didn’t think to just ask? ”

“Of course I did,” she snapped, offended. “But you’d already told yourself you couldn’t break free. You gave up on escaping, and so you couldn’t pull free if you tried. You needed to focus on your instincts.”

A moment of silence as about thirteen different emotions flickered over his sharp features. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, then settled on: “How have you survived this long?”

“Noa’s wings, you’re as bad as 80.”

“80…?”

“My friend. Who’s probably blaming himself for stuff he shouldn’t, so we should hurry.” The final bond disintegrated, and with a sound of satisfaction she pinned the ornament again to herself. “Now, are you going to help, or do I have to get us out of here and take down The Kingdom by myself.”

An incredulous look. Then a slow, slow smile crept across his face. “What did you say your name was?”

“Yullian. Princess Yullian of the Land of Light.” She dipped her head to him in the most proper manner she could manage with mischief glinting in her eyes. “You got a name?”

“...Regulos.” The Other Ultra slowly rose to his full height—taller than Yullian had expected–rolling his shoulders and neck as though luxuriating in his new freedom. “My name is Regulos.”

“Well, Regulos,” Yullian said, lifting her chin, “I look forward to working with you. Care to help me make sure Tartarus is stopped?”

    “Oh, don’t worry.” Large red hands flexed into fists, and the tattoos on his shoulders seemed to burn white. “It’ll be a pleasure.”

Chapter Text

He’d failed.

Yullian entrusted him with her safety, and 80 had let Tartarus capture her. He hadn’t even been the one to rescue her the first time; Zero had intervened, taking on two forms so powerful that it burned the eye to look at.

But it wasn’t enough. Tartarus re-emerged from the golden portal, flinging Zero’s battered body out before him. The gold and black figure snatched up Yullian again as if nothing had happened, but his eyes burned white with contempt.

80 darted forward, the ultra warriors to his left and right surging forward behind him. But a blast from the Parallel isotopes of Belial and Tregear threw him sideways, and he could barely make out Yullian’s face through the smoke. He scrambled to his feet, trying to determine how to rescue her from an opponent several times stronger than himself. If Zero hadn’t stood more than two minutes against this Tartarus, and in his most powerful form—!

But Yullian’s gaze stopped him.

He saw her unspoken plea as clearly as if she’d cried it aloud.

Trust me.

Spoken or not, that was her order. Possibly the last one she’s ever give him.

And he had to follow it if it killed him.

Yullian’s expression conformed back to a mask of demure fear the moment Tartarus turned his face to her; the transition took place so seamlessly that 80 almost didn’t catch it at all. Then she was gone, with the isotopes and the Absolutian vanishing together into the golden portal.

Trust me.

80 tried to make sense of the plea as he heard the others talking around him.

Yullian had gone willingly. Had gone intentionally. Why?

He didn’t know. But she’d needed him to trust her, and he could at least do that much.

He heard one (perhaps Taiga?) insist they go after her immediately, and he realized how dangerous the suggestion was. Running off half-cocked, barely understanding the enemy, could only end in disaster.

“Wait.” His own voice felt hollow in his throat, and 80 felt every eye turn to him. “How can we pursue the enemy,” he continued, quieter, “without knowing where he is?”

He felt Taiga’s surprise at his opposition, and he wasn’t the only one. He felt the questioning gazes of the younger ultras, but Hikari’s emergency transmission saved him from further scrutiny until he returned to the Land of Light.

***

He barely remembered the trip home, didn’t remember the automatic path of his feet to the Garrison HQ at all. He tried to focus as he stood before the leaders of the Garrison, still not sure he’d done right to follow Yullian’s order. Though that hardly mattered now; the important thing now was simply that it had happened.
Still. He wasn’t about to cast blame onto her. No one else would have to consider that it was her own fault she was taken.

He ducked his head. ‘Commanders, as her bodyguard, I take full responsibility for this incident.’

Or, that what he meant to say; instead the words came out as a shaky, “It’s all my fault.”

Well, darn.

His distress told; Father and Mother’s gazes never wavered from his face, one soft with compassion and understanding, the other studying him thoughtfully. In the end Zoffy broke the silence, voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Don’t blame yourself, 80,” he said. “We need to focus on what we can do now.”

80 managed an empty nod and a monosyllabic agreement. He waited in a daze as the commanders discussed and assigned ultras to squads, some to gather intel and others…there was something else, 80 was sure, and he tried to focus on the familiar voices, listening for his own name to be called and assigned his new duty.

But nothing came. He watched and waited as every name but his own was assigned to the mission, and the crowd of bodies began to disperse. Blankly he watched them leave, then turned back to Zoffy. “Sir, what about—“

“You need to rest, 80,” came the rumble of Ultra Father. “We’ll need you in fighting shape for when Yullian returns.”

“Sir, the least I can do is help look for her.”

Father opened his mouth to speak, then turned to Mother as she glanced up at him. Perhaps they spoke telepathically, because Zoffy broke the silence: “Come with me, 80. We can discuss the situation in more detail elsewhere.”

***

‘Elsewhere’ turned out to be the base of the Plasma Spark tower. 80 felt himself standing straighter in the ambient warmth of its light, and tried to understand what possible reason Zoffy could have for speaking here; surely his office would have done as well?

Zoffy didn’t speak until they stood at the base of the tower, gaze lingering on the sparkling tip where the Spark resided. “We have dozens of teams scouring the universe for the Absolutian homeworld, and the Space Science/Technology Bureau is working on tracking their signatures in hopes of finding a way through the Narak. You’ll be alerted the moment we find her.” Zoffy returned his gaze to 80, level and impassive. “But unless the situation changes drastically, you are not to join in that search.”

80 stared. He couldn’t be serious. “I-Commander—“

“We need to minimize any leverage the Absolutians can get.” Zoffy’s words carefully circled, like a practiced fighter treading unknown ground. “If Tartarus has any cause to believe Yullian’s safety carries greater weight with any one individual, he might threaten her safety to try and force compliance from such a person.”

80 processed this slowly before speaking. He knew what many assumed about himself and the princess—speculation on the bond they shared that he and her never cared to conform or contradict—but he wasn’t sure what the captain of the ultra brothers believed on the matter.  Perhaps he only knew rumors; perhaps he knew everything. Still, it hardly mattered. “Any Ultra Brother’s loyalty will always be to the way of the Ambassador of Light, commander,” he said quietly.

Zoffy nodded. “As your actions today exemplified.” Here he gave another slight dip of his head, and almost a smile. An acknowledgment, 80 realized, of the difficult decision he’d made; a wordless assurance that it had been the right one; a promise to stand behind him if anyone questioned that choice. “However,” Zoffy continued, “Tartarus is an opportunist. If there’s a chance he might harm the princess in an attempt to manipulate one of his opponents, we must eliminate that chance.” His gaze softened a fraction. “Anyone with personal ties to Yullian of any sort are not on any of her rescue teams. Sora, for example, is restricted to base work for the time being.”

80 nodded slowly, though didn’t meet his gaze. He should tell the commander about his suspicions. If Yullian had let herself be taken…

But no. If he was wrong the result could be devastating. Even worse, if Yullian had misjudged and anything happened…

It would be my fault for letting them take her.

So instead, 80 changed the subject. “Shall I inform the royal family of the situation,” he asked quietly.

Zoffy shook his head. “No. I will do it.” 80’s head shot up at that and Zoffy spoke over his protest. “Their majesties will be distressed at these events. They will not take that out on you.”

80 flinched. “I was entrusted with Yullian’s care—“

“And a full battalion of Ultra warriors were not sufficient protection,” Zoffy interrupted. “No one could rationally expect one bodyguard to do what over ten trained fighters could not.” He softened, just slightly. “We will send for you to join them once they have been fully briefed on the situation, and once they’ve had a chance to process it.”

80 tried not to let his frustration show through his voice. “Then what is my assignment, sir?”

Zoffy nodded to the tower. “We have a gap in the guard rotation for the Plasma Spark. You fill in for two hours, then report back to me.” He looked at 80 with something like familiarity. “It will do you good.”

“But sir—“

“Trust me.” Zoffy offered a reassuring nod, but 80 winced at the words that echoed Yullian’s. “Get up there. I’ll see you at Garrison HQ in two hours.”

80 could only nod and blankly follow the familiar rout up, up the path of the Plasma Spark, till he was level with the Spark itself.

His breath tingled as he approached. The Spark’s light drew his, magnetically and undeniably, to it’s own, resonating with a gentle thrum of power.

The warm glow of the Spark seemed an insult, as it continued on as if nothing had changed, as if what happened to Yullian didn’t matter.

80 didn’t bother suppressing the twist of anger in his gut at the thought. It wasn’t as though he could hide it, and he didn’t want to.

The light paused on the threshold of his heart. It didn’t enter his own light—not fully, not with the frustration churning in his heart. It pulsed, though, comfortingly near him.

But 80 didn’t want comfort. He wanted someone to hold accountable.

If this had happened for the sake of the Light, the Light had darn well better have a good reason for it.

Slowly, deliberately, methodically, 80 began to pick apart the dark tangle of his thoughts, starting with the easiest to articulate.

I shouldn’t have let her go.

He knew that wasn’t helpful, but he flung the thought at the Spark, then another.

I should have stopped her.

When had he ever been able to stop her?

I can’t forgive myself for that failure.

Yullian would be mad if he didn’t.

80 stopped, glaring at the Spark. How could you let her be taken like that?

He knew that was the wrong question.

80 ignored the hint, anger flaring in his chest. It didn’t have to happen! Why?!

The memory of her expression flashed in his gaze, almost as bright as the Spark itself. 80 began readying another angry demand, until he remembered the unspoken plea in her gaze. Fearful, not for herself, but for him.

Trust me.

Trust me.

Trust me.

80 could barely summon the strength to be angry after that. He wanted to, but every thought he tried to form led him back to that memory and the sight of that last request. His last dregs of fight faded, replaced only with a mute, empty sense of loss.  “…Why,” he managed quietly. “Why was she taken. Why did she let that happen? I don’t understand.”

The words were no longer a demand, but a plea. He forced himself to breathe, and he focused on the light of the Plasma Spark. With his anger spent, he could feel the gentle, perpetual pulse of the life of their planet, of their people. The same light that Yullian shared.

He remembered their time together on earth, and even before that, Yullian always had a knack for getting into places where she wanted to be. Even if she wasn’t supposed to be there. She got herself in a pinch more often than not, but…she’d always been good at getting out of them too.

Though of course, he’d been in and out of those scrapes alongside her.

But now…now she was entirely alone among enemies at a scale they still couldn’t fully comprehend.

80 dipped his head under the gentle beams of light dancing around him. Just…please….please keep her safe.

The Spark didn’t promise safety. It never had.

It only promised Light.

And somehow…that would have to be enough.

Chapter Text

Zoffy thought 80 looked better now than he had when he’d come back from that mission.

To be fair, that wasn’t exactly a high bar, but 80 looked significantly less prone to breaking into the kingdom and ripping it apart until he brought Yullian back.

That said, he still looked like he might try and join the rescue team. Zoffy pinched the space between his eyes. Usually for a mission like this he’d ask for 80 on it. And even despite his visible distress, 80 had remained, in his actions, perfectly level-headed and prudent. Even as his light field pricked with his fear and drive to do something, 80 had done as he always had.

Zoffy decided, and sent out a telepathic ping. The reply came immediately. ^Sir?^

^Andro Melos,^ Zoffy greeted. ^How goes it?^

^All goes well, sir. Seven21 and Xenon are with me, I’m asking the Victorium Knight to join us now.^

Light, Andro Melos was efficient. Zoffy allowed himself a flicker of pride in the younger man’s abilities. ^Good work. I wanted to ask you a favor.^

^Anything, Commander.^ Benoit’s voice sounded so earnest that Zoffy had to try not to let his smile enter his words.

^It’s about Ultraman 80. When he speaks to you—as I’ve no doubt he will—I want you to tell him this…^

~~~

80 saw the team leave. He couldn’t have missed it; half the Garrison seemed to have gathered to see them off. And for good reason; Yullian was popular among her subjects, and especially beloved by the IGDF. In a way, these people had gathered to honor her, and to hope for her safe return.

The team itself was almost exactly what he could have hoped for; 80 made out an agent of the galactic security agency, the most powerful telepath he knew, as well as Hikari, and…was that Victory?

But 80’s focus rested on Andro Melos. He didn’t know the Andromedan well; he knew he was competent, and that he and Zoffy shared something closer to easy, open warmth than 80 often saw from his commander. He didn’t think Andro Melos would go against Zoffy’s direct orders.

Which is why 80 could only hope Zoffy hadn’t specifically ordered the Andromedan to stop him.

Quietly 80 followed the group out, staying a few leagues behind them so as to keep out of sight. He had little doubt that, if they expected a tail, they’d notice him immediately; 80 knew even at his best he couldn’t hide from a security agent. He was banking on the idea that Seven21 wouldn’t think to check for a tail from their own home.

He saw the team touch down on a small, rocky planetoid—Planet Babel, 80 realized—with Astra in the lead. “Is everyone ready,” Andro Melos called, voice carrying easily across the stony ruins. Amongst the chorus of affirmation, 80 saw a red and navy comet descend from space and land in front of the party. The figure straightened, and 80 recognized Cosmos’s companion.

“I’ll be joining you.”

Even from this distance, the surprise in Seven21’s voice was clear. “Justice! It’s been a while. What are you doing here?”

“Delacion wishes me to join your mission. So I am here.” Justice glanced around the assembled ultras, then their eyes flicked to where 80 crouched. “Is that one with you?”

If 80 were the cursing type, he would have let out a long string of unrepeatable words. As it was, 80’s mind instead went completely blank. Not sure what else to do, he stood, squaring his shoulders. “Yes. I’m coming too.”

80 felt the eyes of every other ultra on him, and he tried to ignore them in favor of staring into Andro Melos’s dark visor. His only hope rested on the Andromedan’s approval.

“80,” came Astra’s soft voice. “It’s okay. We’re going to find her and bring her back safely.”

“I know. And I trust you with her life.” 80’s faze stayed fixed on the Andro commander. “But I’m her guard. I made a vow to keep her safe, at any cost. I need to honor that promise.”

Andro Melos, of all things, smiled. “Zoffy said you’d say that,” he said, and 80 flinched, bracing himself for the words that would send him home…or the words that would force him to commit insubordination, and possibly expel him from active duty permanently.

“He also said that, should you join us, you should head team B.”

80 blinked. Then again. “I’m…sorry?”

“We’ll need two teams,” Andro Melos continued, voice raised so it was clear he was addressing the full team. “One led by myself and Astra, to open the doorway back into ordinary space and to find Yullian’s prison. That will be team A, with myself, Astra, and Xenon. Team B will be the rest of you, led by 80 and Seven21; your job is to draw as much Absolutian attention as possible, so team A can get in relatively unnoticed. Everyone clear?”

“Yes.” Among the chorus of agreement, 80 steadied his breathing and bowed his gratitude to Andro Melos. Hang on, Yullian, he half-thought, half-prayed. We’re coming for you.

~~~

Gold. Gold, glittering spires as far as the eye could see; it might even have been beautiful, even in its superficial gaudiness, if not for the knot of fear in 80’s chest.

Well. The dozen Absolutians who had come to welcome them hadn’t helped with that.

Victory dropped his guard, sword-hilt barely keeping from brushing the gilded ground. “Is that the last of them,” he panted.

“I believe so.” “Justice’s gaze swept the horizon, searching for any sign of movement. “This feels wrong. We should be facing more opposition than this.”

Seven21 nodded agreement, but didn’t drop his guard. “Tartarus claimed the Absolutian’s survival depended on this plot. They should have hit us with everything they had…or at least more than this.”

80, for his part, thought the number they’d sent was plenty. But the others were right; surely this was a trap?

This couldn’t be all the Absolutians had, right?

^Team B, status report,^ came Andro Melos’s voice.

^All hostiles neutralized,” Victory announced. ^But there’s not as many as there should be. Any sign of her, team A?^

Xenon’s voice sounded as tight and professional as ever, though that meant it gave little comfort.  ^None. We’ve found the prison quadrant—there’s chains in here that were definitely designed to hold an Ultra—but no sign of Yullian. If she was here, she’s gone now.^

^She’s alive,^ Astra added quickly; ^I still sense her light. Trying to pinpoint her location now, if you’re out of absolutians to fight you all should meet up at their light tower, so we can leave as soon as we find her.^

Had the Absolutians relocated her? 80 had to restrain himself from thinking the worst. He had to focus on the mission in front of him.

Justice suddenly stiffened, dropping back into their deep fighting stance. “Someone’s coming.”

“Where from?” Seven21 automatically shifted to stand back to back with Justice.

Hikari selected something on his wrist-mounted console, widening the scope of his scanner till it enveloped the full city block. Little flickers of light blinked across the tiny map, moving fast. “Multiple entities inbound,” Hikari said, “two coming fast, multiple following.”

“How many is ‘multiple,’” Seven21 snapped, to which Hikari helplessly gestured to the map; at the boarders of the screen, so many blips appeared that their position almost vanished in the haze of brilliant dots.

“It was a trap,” 80 said quietly.

And then an explosion rocked the planet.

80 almost lost his footing, but managed to keep from falling and catch Hikari’s arm when he slipped. Seven21 might have said something, but his voice vanished in the visceral screech of crystal scraping crystal. As the Ultras watched, one of the massive spires slowly, slowly twisted, a thin line of smoke twisting around its base as it began to fall, quickly now, thundering into the side of another tower.

The shattering of gold was deafening, but 80 couldn’t focus on the noise. That explosion had come from the direction of the crowd coming towards them, he realized. None of the ultras had come that way…but something was destroying the Kingdom, ripping its way toward them.

Something like an escaping prisoner.

80 was running before he knew he’d moved, almost flying as he hurled past the other ultras and towards the falling tower.

Behind him he heard someone call his name, but he didn’t slow. He needed to know. He needed to be sure, needed to be in time to—

There. Through the haze of smoke and crystal debris he saw a red figure, then a familiar silver one close behind. One stumbled slightly, and the other caught him, steadying his limbs.

80 cried her name, and she heard him. Her head shot up, eyes scanning till they lit on him and her shoulders dropped the fear they’d been holding.

“80!”

The one word was all he needed. “Yullian!”

Yullian ran forward, and her arms were around him almost before he knew he’d caught her. The tangibility of her—safe, completely safe, no sign of any injuries—did more than he’d thought possible to restore him. Even surrounded by the Kingdom’s spires, with sounds of battle around them, she was safe.

Yullian released him and flicked him between the eyes. “Ow,” 80 protested, more in surprise than actual pain.

“ That’s for worrying. You were worrying too much again.”

“Someone has to worry about your safety,” 80 said, though the words didn’t come out as sharply as he wanted them to.  “Epecially when you don’t seem to.”

“We can’t stay here and chat,” the red figure behind Yullian interrupted. “The Absolutians aren’t very happy with us.”

“Right. Sorry…” 80 looked at the figure; he looked like an Ultra—startlingly like an L77 Ultra, actually—and Yullian blithely gestured to her companion.

“My cellmate. We escaped together.”

The red figure studied him. “I am Regulos. Princess Yullian helped me when I’d almost abandoned hope.” His eyes softened a fraction, glancing from Yullian to her guard. “And you must be her 80.”

Her 80. He tried not to linger on the words, didn’t want to give more meaning to them than they might really hold. 80 dipped his head in reply. “We’re her rescue party. After what the Absolutians said, we feared we’d be too late.”

“We?” The red youth—Regulos—seemed about to ask, but the sound of shattering behind them cut him off. The absolutians had broken through the building they’d dropped in their way, and were coming fast.

“Out of time, let’s go home,” said Yullian cheerfully. “Come on, you two!”

“But your Grace—!”

“Actually it’s ‘your Highness,’” said 80 helpfully, “your grace refers to a duke or duchess, and when she’s queen she’ll be Your Majesty—“

“Time to go, 80!” Yullian caught his arm and ran, and 80 stumbled into a gait matching hers, redirecting their sprint towards the rest of the rescue party. 80 belatedly realized he should update the others, and even as team B came into sight, he sent out a telepathic message: ^This is 80. Yullian’s safe with me, she escaped with another prisoner. ^

^That would at least explain why we couldn’t find her,^ Astra said cheerfully; ^we should have just looked for the waves of destruction.^

“Why can I hear you in my head,” Regulos said aloud at the same time, “and is…that Astra’s voice? But it can’t be, he’s—how are you doing that?”

80 blinked; why wouldn’t an ultra know about ultra telepathy? And how did he recognize Astra? But before he could respond he was already sliding to a stop in the midst of team B.

Hikari straightened. “Princess, you’re safe!”

“Of course! You have no faith in me.”

“This is Regulos,” 80 introduced, “the one who escaped with Princess Yullian.”

“Do you have a way offworld?” Regulos said from behind him. “This Kingdom is displaced in space; I’ve tried getting out before, but you can’t get anyplace that’s not here.”

80 looked to Hikari. “Any word from Astra?”

“He’s working towards the tower, now that we have the Princess,” the scientist replied.

Justice straightened. “Then we should do likewise. Astra might need to open the way out alone, but he’ll likely need defending.”

“Especially if the Absolutians know where we’re headed,” Seven21 added.

Regulos seemed frozen in place. “That really was Astra? He’s here, he’s alive?”

“You know each other?” Yullian asked curiously.

“Let’s talk and move at the same time,” Victory suggested, glancing uncomfortably at the wall of rapidly approaching absolutian footsoldiers. This was an agreeable suggestion, and the ultras took off towards the golden tower.

Chapter Text

“Regulos,” Ultra Father echoed, seeming to turn the word over in his head. Then he shook his head. “I can’t say the name’s structure is familiar from any Ultra population I know...And it wasn’t assigned to you on planet D60?”

Regulos, rather than the discomfort Yullian had half-expected, had relaxed in the presence of the Garrison commander. Perhaps Ultra Father reminded him of another authority—a mentor on D60, perhaps?—or maybe the commander was just that warm of a presence. Regulos shook his head, posture that of a respectful pupil. “No. My name is the one thing I remember from before, and my memory shows no sign of returning.”

Ultra Father gave a thoughtful sound, turning his gaze then to Leo. “Could he be of L77 origin?”

Leo shook his head. “Unlikely. I asked around while L77 was still alive…but it was a whole planet. And there’s no sure way to know, now.”

“And with D60 gone,” Ultra Mother noted, “It seems it is your own choice as to where you go now.”

Yullian studied Regulos as he turned over the words. He’d been taken so long from every home he’d known...did the idea of starting someplace new even appeal to him? “You’re more than welcome on the Land of Light,” she offered; “as the surviving master of the Cosmo Beast school, there are many here who’d love to learn from you, if you want to teach it.”

“That would be amazing,” Astra said, moving to face Regulos with a more open expression than Yullian often saw in the L77 prince. “You could start a new school. Master Alude would be proud to have you continuing his legacy.”

Yullian had no idea who ‘Alude’ was, but the name clearly meant everything to Regulos; his breath caught, and he actually stepped back, averting his gaze. “I’ll… I’ll have to think about it,” he managed.

“There is no need to decide now,” Ultra Father soothed; “If you wish to stay here until you come to a more permanent decision, you are welcome. Or should the Land of Light prove a difficult adjustment…”

“The Galaxy Rescue Force could always use warriors of your caliber,” Mother finished. “Their team unites ambassadors from many galaxies–and with Ribut missing after the final battle with the Absolutians, they would doubtless welcome your help–should you wish for some more immediate activity, that is,” she added, and Yullian thought she caught a touch of humor in her tone–as if she knew how the offer would be received before she made it.

Leo, perhaps catching Regulos’ hesitation, clasped the younger Ultra on the shoulder. “But that is a choice for later. For now, it’s been too long since we’ve sparred. I want to see how out of practice you are.”

Despite the welling emotion behind Regulos’s eyes, he smiled at that. Maybe it was the stability of old friendship, in a swirl of new worlds and faces. “Hah…Well, I look forward to seeing how much you’ve slowed down, then.”

Leo grinned back, and Yullian glanced to her side to catch her bodyguard’s eye. “Do you want to go watch them spar,” she whispered.

“If you want to watch, I’m happy to join you,” 80 replied, which made her snort.

“That’s not a real answer!” Then she added, more seriously: “I get if you want to distance yourself from…well, that particular adventure.”

“Not being thrilled you were kidnapped for ransom has nothing to do with the new friend we made. He’s a brilliant young man, and Zero’s in the sparring arena now—I’m looking forward to seeing those two  face off.” There was amusement in his tone, and Yullian caught the comedy of it; Zero and Regulos were both hot-blooded and hot-headed—well, Zero had mellowed a little. But still, both were proficient martial artists. Their fight would be something to behold. 

Yullian was so entertained by the notion that she missed 80’s quiet comment. “Sorry?”

“Ah.” He ducked his head. “It’s nothing. Shall we?”

“80,” she protested, but 80 had already stepped lightly away following after the retreating L77 princes and their friend. 

“Ah, 80.”

80 winced, clearly having hoped to avoid this particular interaction. He turned sheepishly to Zoffy, who was watching with arms folded across his chest. “Commander,” he greeted.

“I’m glad I caught you,” Zoffy said easily. “Andro Melos and Seven21 just finished debriefing me on your exploits.”

“Ah.” 80 seemed to search for words, then surrendered and bowed. “My deepest apologies, Commander—“

“—But 80’s busy,” Yullian interrupted, striding up to stand between her bodyguard and the Garrison Commander. “I’m so sorry, but with me just getting back and all, I’d just asked him to grab something for me so we aren’t too terribly behind schedule. Is there a problem?”

Zoffy returned her gaze, a shockingly unmasked humor playing across his features. “Not at all, your highness,” he said easily; “I only wanted to congratulate Brother 80 for his work today.”

Yullian only faltered for a moment. “Ah. Well then, I’m sure that’s fine, if you have time, 80.”

80 looked almost as baffled as Yullian felt, but he dipped his head to his senior Ultra Brother, and promptly spoiled Yullian’s defense by saying: “Sir, I disobeyed orders and I submit myself to what discipline you see fit.”

“ Eighty ,” Yullian complained, but Zoffy’s smile broadened. 

“Whatever I see fit,” the commander echoed lightly. “In that case—once you’re finished with whatever clearly urgent work her highness has for you—I assign you to guard duty at the Plasma Spark Tower for two hours. Is that understood?”

Yullian couldn’t understand the smile that spread over 80’s face. “Yes sir.”

“Now then, you should get back to your important work. I’m going to go watch Regulos spar and assess his skill for myself.” Oh, Zoffy was definitely laughing at them. “I’d ask you both to join me, but…”

“Since you asked nicely,” Yullian sighed, ceding the point. Zoffy had won that interaction handily—no sense cutting off her nose to match his. And as she turned to join Astra and the others, she could have sworn she heard the Garrison Commander’s quiet laugh. 

~~~

80 had been right: Regulos and Zero were dynamite. Yullian watched as red fists blocked blue, Regulos spinning to disengage as Zero followed with a series of high kicks.

Seated from her vantage point on a higher platform, she and 80 had a clear view of both the fight, and the fight’s audience: Leo and Astra looked on from one side of the sidelines, Z close at hand, while Zoffy and Joneas watched from another. A scattering of other Ultras, IGDF or otherwise, paused in their own training to watch, or at least slowed their step as the two martial artists felt each other out.

“Zero’s grown so much as a fighter, even in the past few years,” Yullian noted.

80’s eyes glowed with amusement. “The universe conspiring to make him a role model probably helped with that,” he replied, voice light with laughter.

Yullian snorted a laugh, returning her gaze to the match. Zero threw a punch, which Regulos blocked with a forearm to throw an open-palmed strike into Zero’s chest. Zero stumbled back, but used the distance to kick high, inches from Regulos’s face, forcing him back in turn. The two returned to their ready stances for only a breath before slamming back together. “Geed and Z have been good for him,” agreed Yullian; “though Geed makes me feel ancient.”

“He’s an adult,” 80 argued, and Yullian flashed him a look.

“He’s what, two, three decades old? That’s an infant!”

“Somewhere around there,” he ceded; “but that’s an adult for humans—older than Z—and Geed’s been independent since he was much younger. He’s grown up fast.”

“Light, that still feels wrong.” Yullian groaned and wrapped her arms around herself. The sparring session seemed to have broken up; Yullian couldn’t hear from this distance, but the two younger Ultras had leaped down from their sparring platform  to rejoin Astra, Leo, and Z. Zero was saying something—reluctant praise, if the cocky posture and the lazy thumbs-up were any indication.

“What happens next,” asked Yullian, not taking her eyes off the ultras below.

80 didn’t ask what she meant. “We work to find Ribut,” he said softly. “Commander Zoffy mentioned he and the Commanders have been summoned to speak with King. They think the Parallel Isotopes of Belial and Tregear have split off from the Absolutians, so we’ll have to figure out what we’re doing about them…and we don’t know how much of a threat the Absolutians will be in the near future.”

Yullian could feel his gaze on her, but she didn’t turn to look. Regulos and Astra had started baiting each other, play-fighting as though no time had passed. As if they hadn’t each been captured and tortured—as if they hadn’t each lost everything.

Well. Not everything.

“Yullian?”

She finally turned to meet his look. His gaze was quiet, steady—everything that made him balance her out. The solemnity of it worried her. “I’m fine, 80,” she promised. “It wasn’t my first kidnapping. And I don’t think we’ll have to worry about the Absolutians for a little while; Tartarus is gone, and the remaining Absolutians will take a while to regroup.”

80 gave a sound that meant he mostly agreed, but wasn’t happy about it. “It’s likely they’ll want revenge. Your escape destroyed much of their throne-world. They won’t forgive that easily—you’ve made yourself a target, and not one they’ll want to capture alive this time.”

“Ahh.” She leaned back. “Well. Good thing I’ve got a good bodyguard then, right?”

“Yullian,” 80 insisted, and his voice cracked before he got it under control. At that Yullian paused, regretting her blithe tone. 80 cleared his throat, and his voice became steadier. “I think it might be best to stay on the Land of Light for a while. I don’t think Tartarus has the resources for a head-on assault or he’d have tried it by now, but if he can find you alone again—Noa’s wings, how did he know where you were,” he interrupted, tone frustrated as if he thought he might have caused the ambush. “Your ship isn’t a secret, but you weren’t exactly publicizing your schedule; how did he know where to set a trap like that?”

“80;” Yullian chided. “It doesn’t matter. And you know we have too much work to do for me to just twiddle my thumbs at home. I have a duty to the Ultras, to our allies—to the mission.” You know that, she didn’t say aloud. But she didn’t have to.

“I know.” 80 managed a subdued smile. “And you’ve always put that first.”

Yullian tried to match the smile. “Hey, now you know how I feel when you go off with the Ultra Brothers doing King-knows-what and painting even bigger targets on your collective backs.”

80 breathed a laugh at that. “Yeah, that’s fair. Just be careful, okay?”

“Only if you are,” she shot back.

“I didn’t get myself kidnapped,” 80 protested, but his smile seemed more genuine now. And Yullian found hers was, too.

“It’s okay,” she soothed; “you don’t have to be jealous, I have faith you’ll manage it one day.”

“I’d really rather not.”