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“Suhwan?” Wangho rasped.
Suhwan rose from his crouched position and reached forward, turning the chair around with a loud creak. Slumped over in the chair was Mata, blood trickling from his mouth. Suhwan stared at Mata for a moment longer with dull eyes.
Zaun’s Golden Baby killed the Eye of Zaun, Suhwan thought bitterly.
He walked over to the left side of the table where Jaehyeok lay unconscious on the ground and stood there, his finger resting on the trigger of his gun.
It’d be easy, a haunting voice whispered in the back of his head. Shoot him. Wangho chose him over you.
“Suhwan, it’s okay,” Wangho said, his voice trembling. “We’ll be okay.”
There was a hopeful lilt at the end of his words. Suhwan stayed silent.
He raised his gun and used it to drag the chair labeled “Peyz” backward. He fixed his gaze on it and exhaled slowly.
And then he turned and sat down, his gun clanking against the metal armrest.
“I thought,” Peyz began. His voice wavered. His words had lost their gleeful malice, leaving them hollow. He felt hollow.
“I thought,” he repeated, “that maybe you could love me like you used to.”
Wangho stared at him with wide eyes.
“Even though I’m…” Peyz paused again, his face crumpling as he forced the next words out. “...different.”
He looked away from Wangho to inhale slowly and then looked back at Wangho – Wangho, whose face was pale and nervous, his hair sticking to the sides of his neck with sweat.
Wangho, his infallible and dependable older brother, was nervous. Nervous about what Peyz would do.
Peyz was happy about that. He relished it, even. Reveled in the control he finally wielded.
Suhwan, though?
Suhwan is dead, Peyz told himself. His opinion doesn’t matter anymore.
“But you changed too,” he said, so soft that he knew Wangho would have to strain to hear him. He stood and walked to where his minigun lay and picked it up, gently picking up the Hextech crystal from its place on the cupcake as well.
“So,” he whispered. He glanced at Wangho one more time, carefully observing the rising and falling of his shoulders, the worry lines etched on his face, and the concern in his gaze.
Remember this, Peyz told himself. This is the last time he’ll look at you like this. Because right now, he still thinks you’re Suhwan.
But Suhwan was dead, drowned in the harbor at Mata and Peyz’s hands.
Wangho loved Suhwan. He would never love Peyz.
“Here’s to the new us,” Peyz said, and there it was – the slow panic building in Wangho’s eyes, his breaths escaping his lungs in ragged gasps – the fear.
Peyz walked out of the room, leaving Wangho in his restraints. He had seen Jaehyeok’s fingers twitching and knew he would wake up soon.
Outside, the sea air stung his cheeks with its icy bite. The red moon bathed the world in a crimson glow. Peyz opened the chest he had left outside and pulled out his rocket launcher, placing the Hextech crystal inside.
He walked down the harbor, his steps heavy, until the Councilor’s Tower was in plain sight. The Councilors were in a meeting at that very moment, discussing…
Discussing the Undercity. Discussing Peyz.
“I never would have given you to them,” Mata had choked out as he bled out on the ropes Peyz had tied him with. “Not for anything.”
Peyz hefted the rocket launcher onto his shoulder and pointed it toward the Councilor’s Tower. It vibrated against his body with a low hum as it powered up, pulsating with blue light.
We will show them, Mata had told him.
Mata, whose torso was littered with bullet holes. Peyz’s bullet holes. Mata, who was dead now, leaving behind only Peyz.
Peyz, who Wangho would never love.
The rocket launcher shook in Peyz’s grasp, shuddering with devastating power. It roared in his ears and yet all Peyz could hear was the distinct absence of dead voices wailing in his head, silent but for Mata’s voice. He thought he could hear Wangho’s too, his gentle voice merging with Mata’s.
We will show them all.
The tear that trickled down Peyz’s face was searingly hot against his ice-cold cheek.
He pulled the trigger.