Chapter Text
Moros was an ancient spirit, from ancient times, far back as the days of myth. Even with the countless years under his belt, this was the most fuckery to ever fuck that he had seen. What the Fuck, Lampas. The spirit sighed, eyelid squinting as his chosen ran from their pursuers. Jeff dodged into an alley, a bullet shattering the corner of the wall. Seriously, what the fuck.
Jeff panted as he dashed through the small alleyways of some city in Greece. Rhodes, he thought it was called. A beautiful landscape, and wonderful people, but this wasn’t beautiful. In the words of some American show his younger brother forced him to watch, he was not feeling the aster. The wall beside him turned cold, he rolled to the ground before large spikes of ice could impale him.
“Surrender.” A feminine voice called to him. He looked up to see a woman with white hair and glittering jewelry glaring at him.
“I haven’t done anything wrong!.” Jeff reached for that part of him, an extra limb, a 6th sense. The gravel on the ground started to rise, bits of sand forming into a hand. The limb of sand grabbed the ice spikes, broke them, then threw them back to their creator. The sand dissipated after, creating a smoke cloud that Jeff ran through.
Moros hovered close to him, “So, what's the plan now?”
“We have to keep you safe, that's the god damned plan.” He grunted as his lungs burned.
“Op, Do you take criticism?”
“No, I regret ever showing you the internet.”
Moros rolled his eye, turning around to watch the woman chase after them. The power rolled off her in icy waves creating a fog.
Jeff's eyes widened, “Moros get close to me.” The spirit complied and Jeff took a sharp left into an open space next to the shoreline. The woman screeched behind him, getting closer. He jumped over the railing, falling into the sand. The fine particles rose up into a shield. A heartbeat passed before it shattered into grainy ice. The woman fell beside him, growling with frustration, “I guess you deserve being at the top.”
“Can’t say the same to you.” Jeff raised his hand along with the sand and made a fist. Dense sand packed around her. She was stuck even as her powers started to freeze the area around her.
Jeff stumbled down the road, Cassian, he needed to call Cassian, but he couldn’t let him know what was happening. Cassian was someone he could trust. That kid was short-tempered and easy to violence. The kid who felt things more intensely than most. The Cassian Lee who he knew was good and just wanted to help people.
Jeff ran back up to the streets, called for a cab, and collapsed. Moros floated near him. Jeff breathed for a moment before grabbing his phone. “What are you doing?” Jeff looked at him through the side of his eye and back to the cabby driver. Moros huffed, the smoke of his body shifting in agitation. He looked out the window.
“You need to come to…Where are we?” The cabby driver said something back. “Rhodes, Greece.”
“ RHODES? Greece?! What are you doing there?”
“Cassian, It’s been so long since I’ve seen you though!” Jeff’s brows furrowed, and his face was pale. Moros could see the begging in his eyes.
“...Fine.”
“See you there, 7?”
“Bye Jeff.” Cassian’s voice drawled.
The car swerved, and Jeff was knocked into the side door. The cabby driver yelled something at the road. Jeff looked out, it was a man. A man with a familiar eye patch hidden under a black ski mask. He cursed while throwing some money at the driver and dashed out the door. They hadn’t found him yet.
He hunkered down in a random alley once more, dodging the dogs at his heels. Hours passed, and his phone rang.
“There you are.” It was the woman again. Ice pierced his side, and hot blood bubbled. The icicles was already melting in his side. He put a hand to the wound, trying to stem the flow. The blood wouldn’t clot for a while. Moros shouted in shock. “Jeff, run.”
Cassian, he had to get to Cassian. The Cafe. Jeff ran. It was a blur though somehow he lost his pursuers in the chase. There, Cassian stood looking at his phone. He stumbled, “Cassian.”
His brother looked back, face paling. He dashed towards Jeff, supporting him with his arms. “J-jeff? What happened?” He looked at the blood seeping the uniform Jeff wore. “You’re hurt, r-really bad.” Cassian’s voice shook, but hardened, “Did villains do this to you?”
Jeff reached for The Necklace, “I shouldn’t have called you here. I’m sorry, Cassian.”
“What.” Jeff held Moros’ Necklace in his hand.
The spirit stilled, “Jeff, what are you doing.” He fluttered between them.
Jeff looked at the spirit with sorrow in his eyes. He took a shaky breath, despite the fluids filling his lungs. “First, take this.” He passed the necklace to Cassian, to his confusion. “Nothing else matters.” He coughed, blue eyes widening. “Cassian, Run.”
“Jeff…” Both Cassian and Moros looked at the dying man. Cassian looked up, his muscles tensing more than they already were. “Who’s there?”
In the fading sun, a shadow covered the scene. Jeff pushed Cassian away. He closed his eyes as a sharp blade went through his veins, bones, and nerves.
Thunk, roll.
Screaming. Moros was dragged along with this kid, but that-- He was frozen, Jeff was gone.
Moros had seen death in his time. But, this was Jeff. They were supposed to find the sword together, to be free together.
Now this kid, Cassian, is chasing Jack and Lyra. Idiot.
Moros felt lost. He looked at the scene before him. Fire, ice, blades, and bullets flew as the kid dodged and ran.
The spirit looked at the brother. He was different from Jeff, and even the other psykers. When Moros looked at Cassian it was like looking at the sun. Bright, loud, and painful. He was uncontrolled and Moros was lost.
They fell, blood seeping into the ocean. Deeper and deeper they fell, pressure building. Moros looked at the kid, and up at the moon that shone down on them through the murky waters of Rhodes.
Centering his energy around the two, bubbles started to form around them. He was building the connection so when Cassian’s vessel expired his soul would still be around. Moros then could guide it to another, and they could--. Moros didn’t know what they could do, but Jeff chose this kid. Moros wasn’t going to betray him like that.
Breath exhaled from the body, and the connection snapped. “What?!”
A bright ball, not on this plane, rose from the sinking body. It was hollow in the center as if the center of it was taken, leaving the thick outer shell. Moros floated towards it with curiosity.
Slowly it started to float up. It hovered in front of the moon, then disappeared.
Moros didn't know how much time passed since someone found his necklace once more.
Yuri was the older sibling. It was a big part of her identity. She was the one to get a job, make food, and pay the bills. That was her role in taking care of her baby brother, Gangu. She was the one to hold him as a toddler when a kid broke his favorite toy. She was the one who made hot chocolate in winter. She was the one who protected him.
It was never her choice though, this was the realization she came to one day. She was pushed into that position by an abusive mother and an absent father. Yuri was older now, with her own job, her own friends, and a blooming relationship. Yet, she was still in that small apartment with a teenage brother who was terrified of the day.
Yuri paused in the hallway leading to their apartment after a long day of work. Her hand rested on the doorknob as thoughts floated in her mind. The knob turned, her shoes taken off, and she was in this home that they had made.
It was a small apartment with two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a living room combined with the dining room. It was so small, now that she took a moment to really look. The walls were covered with photos from over the years. There was one of her as a child holding a baby Gangu. Her mother and father looked at them with love in their eyes, especially her father. She missed him, a shaky inhale broke the silence of the room.
“Oh…”
Years of taking care of someone other than herself had blocked that floodgate of grief. It was so heavy and sour, and sweet, and just too much. She stumbled to the couch and sat down. Yuri held herself as she mourned her father. She even missed that bitch of a mother. For a good while, Yuri sat in the darkness of her apartment and cried.
The next morning her eyes were sealed shut with crust. Her state, both mentally and psychically, was exhausted. Thank the Gods it was her day off. Heaving herself up, Yuri got a cup of water and took a shower. Afterward, she felt much better.
Yuri’s thoughts turned to her brother. Did Gangu even remember their parents? He wasn’t that young when they disappeared. There wasn’t a time when she could remember that he cried or raged about them. To be honest with herself, Gangu has always been off compared to other children.
He wouldn’t laugh or cry or scream, he would just blankly stare as if scared. Even as a toddler, there was always this stance he took that there was something wrong. Those honey-dew eyes that were so familiar to her own flicked to the darkest corner of the room. He used to talk about shadow people who played with him. She shivered at the thought.
Gangu was a blank canvas being slowly painted in fear and isolation. He was disconnected from the world around him, an empty vase missing the crown piece of a bouquet. Yuri was startled when a feeling of resentment started to settle at the bottom of her heart. No, Gangu was her baby brother. He just had a hard time connecting to the world around him.
Yuri stopped the water and dressed. She looked at herself in the mirror. “ Is this who I want to be?” Hair stuck to her face from the water and the mirror partially fogged. She stared and reflected.
Yuri wanted to be proud of herself and for others to look up to her. She didn’t want to be stuck in this small pond. She bit her lip in thought, but she couldn’t leave her brother. Not when bruises scattered pale skin with bags under his eyes. Gangu was more connected to the state of fear than anyone else she knew. It showed in his posture, and how he held himself. When confronted he froze or ran away. When in trouble Gangu would cower in the picture-perfect position of complacent.
Yuri sighed, “ I’ll work hard, and when he’s done, I’ll spread my wings.”
Gangu curled into himself as a hand forcefully grabbed the back of his neck. It pushed him into the porcelain bowl of a disgusting toilet. His biceps burned, weakly trying to stop the water from entering his airway.
Despite the situation, Gangu felt nothing. Foul-tasting water would swallow his head and all that he could think was how dull it was. This action was like any other, one that hurt him. That burning sensation of tears in his eyes was constant. Jeering laughter rang in his ears as he gasped desperately for air. He coughed.
Gihun tched, “I thought we already had this lesson.” The hand jerked him back in that horrible water for seconds, enough to shock him into listening. “You come to us and don’t think about running. Everything you have, your money, your grades, your food, everything in this school that you own, is ours.” Gihun adjusted his grip and the next thing Gangu knew was the toilet water. He coughed, and more watered filled his lungs.
It hurt, the desperation for air, that primal yearning in every tissue and nerve. How there was a battle between wanting to open for air and the other rejecting it venomously. Thoughts started to blur into one run-on sentence of Stop help me.
20 seconds.
The hand kept on squeezing at his nape, his head immobile. His heart raced faster than ever before, pumping blood to his brain while resources depleted. A rushing sound crowded in his ears.
40 seconds.
It was hot, in his nose, it felt like burning. As if there were flames licking his nerves raw and inflamed.
50 seconds.
He started to struggle, thrashing against the tight grasp. His nose hit the bottom of the bow, and he felt a crack with more pain rising through his head.
60 seconds.
Gangu felt like his head was going to implode with the pressure.
70 seconds.
He felt consciousness vanish as if a snake in the grass. Blades shifting with movement it was still unnoticeable as it fled for another bite.
80 seconds.
Gangu was scared.
81 seconds.
Why were they so mean?
82 seconds.
He didn’t do anything to them.
83 seconds.
He just wanted to stop
84 seconds.
He needed to breathe. He knew it in his bones, he would die here if he didn't.
85 seconds.
He thrashed weakly, his vision swirling white and unbalanced.
86 seconds.
Blood pushed through from his heart and into his veins, something so clear in this moment. He felt his neck muscles twitch
87 seconds.
His mouth opened, and he was on fire. In short gasps, as if panting for air where instead water flooded down. It went past the larynx, which reflectively closed. More water caused him to screaming into the water, But he couldn’t, there was no way he could.
He wanted it to stop, and all the fight, all that pain, it left him. His heart stopped and his breath stilled in calm waters.
Gangu Gwon laid limp beside a toilet alone in the boy’s bathroom.
Deep, deep inside that fear struck.
Gangu Gwon and something more breathed.