Archive of Our Own ^beta

In the vibrant land of Oz, where magic shimmered in the very air, there existed a prestigious institution—Shiz University. It was a place where the brightest minds gathered, where magic and intellect merged, and where destinies began to take shape. Among the many students who roamed its grand halls, two stood on opposite ends of the spectrum—Joong Archen, the misunderstood prodigy, and Dunk Natachai, the shining star, beloved by all.

Joong had always been an enigma. With his sharp golden brown eyes and an aura of mystery that followed him everywhere, he was the subject of whispers and rumors. He was a student of great talent, but his magic was dark, unpredictable, and frightening to most. He preferred solitude, and though he was brilliant, no one truly understood him. They feared him, not for who he was, but for where he came from — a bloodline of wicked witches and wizards who had unleashed nothing but havoc and menace upon Oz.

Dunk, on the other hand, was a beacon of light, a student who excelled in every subject, particularly in elemental magic. His magic was pure, gentle, and harmonious—a perfect balance of nature’s elements. Everyone adored him for his kindness and his talent. He was the star of the university, surrounded by friends and admirers wherever he went. But beneath his friendly smile, Dunk carried a secret—he was haunted by a longing, an unspoken emptiness that no one could fill. Dunk’s life has always been shaped by the heavy hand of his family, who demand nothing less than perfection. Coming to Shiz offered him a rare taste of freedom — and yet, even here, the weight of expectation lingers. The eyes of those around him still watch closely, anticipating that he will mirror the flawless standards set by his parents.

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The day they first met was an ordinary one, at least for most students of Shiz University. Dunk had been on his way to a lecture, his mind distracted by the events of the day. But as he passed through the courtyard, his eyes caught sight of a figure standing alone, gazing at the distant horizon. Joong stood there, his back to the world, as if he didn’t belong to it, as if he was waiting for something—or perhaps someone—to take him away.

Dunk’s curiosity got the better of him. Despite the whispers that followed Joong wherever he went, despite the warnings from his friends to stay away from him, Dunk felt an undeniable pull. Something about Joong intrigued him, a strange magnetism he couldn’t ignore.

He approached Joong slowly, his footsteps soft on the cobblestones. When Joong turned to face him, their eyes met for the first time—golden and full of unspoken stories, like the embers of a long-extinguished fire. Dunk felt a jolt of something unfamiliar, something both exciting and unsettling.

"You’re... Joong, right?" Dunk asked, his voice warm but cautious, unsure of how to approach the mysterious figure.

Joong’s eyes narrowed slightly, assessing Dunk with quiet intensity. "And you are?"

"Dunk," he replied, offering a smile that was always natural for him. "I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m in the Elemental Magic program. I heard you’re in the Advanced Magic track?"

Joong didn’t answer immediately, his gaze lingering on Dunk as if measuring him. There was something about Dunk’s light, his openness, that felt like an intrusion to Joong—a warmth that he wasn’t sure how to handle. He wasn’t used to being approached with such casual kindness.

"You could say that," Joong said, his voice quiet, almost guarded. "I don’t have much interest in the usual program. I prefer my own studies."

Dunk tilted his head, intrigued. "Is that so? What do you study, then?"

Joong hesitated, as though considering whether he should share the truth. "Magic," he said simply. "The kind that’s not often spoken of here."

Dunk raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What kind of magic?"

Joong’s lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "The kind that doesn’t belong in the light."

Dunk felt a shiver run down his spine, but it wasn’t fear—it was something else, something deeper, that he couldn’t quite place. He could see it in Joong’s eyes: the weight of something dark, something hidden. But there was also a flicker of sadness in them, as if Joong didn’t want to be the person everyone believed him to be.

"You don’t have to hide," Dunk said softly, his voice filled with an empathy he didn’t fully understand. "We all have our places here. Shiz University is big enough for everyone."

Joong’s eyes flickered, a moment of vulnerability flashing across his face before he masked it with indifference. "Not everyone belongs," he muttered, almost to himself. "Not everyone is welcome."

Dunk took a step closer, his heart aching with the weight of Joong’s words. "I think you do," he said firmly, his gaze unwavering. "Everyone belongs somewhere, Joong. Maybe you just haven’t found your place yet."

Joong looked at him for a long moment, as if considering the sincerity in Dunk’s words. "And what if I don’t want to find it?" he asked quietly.

Dunk didn’t answer right away. He had been raised to believe that everyone deserves kindness, that no one should have to feel alone. But there was something different about Joong—something about the darkness he carried. And yet, Dunk couldn’t help but want to know more, to help him, even if Joong didn’t want it.

"I think you do," Dunk said again, his voice softer this time, almost like a whisper.

Joong gave him a look, one that was impossible to read, before nodding once. "Maybe," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of something uncertain. "But not today."

That was the beginning—the first time their lives crossed paths in a way that mattered. From that moment on, Dunk found himself inexplicably drawn to Joong, pulled by an invisible thread he didn’t fully understand. He tried to talk to him, to peel back the layers, but Joong remained an enigma, always retreating into the quiet shadows of his own world.

As the days blurred into weeks, Dunk carved out a space in Joong’s life with quiet determination. He found excuses to sit beside Joong in the library, slipping into his orbit with soft-spoken questions about magic, about the world, about the things Joong rarely spoke of. Dunk’s persistence wasn’t forceful—it was gentle, unwavering, like the steady drip of water wearing down stone. He never left Joong’s side.

And he saw it—the darkness flickering behind Joong’s guarded eyes, the shadows coiled just beneath his skin. But Dunk also saw the light, the rare flashes of warmth and softness that slipped through Joong’s cold exterior when he thought no one was looking. Dunk couldn’t turn away from it. He didn’t want to.

For Joong, Dunk’s presence was at first unsettling, a kindness he didn’t know how to trust. He watched Dunk closely, waiting for the moment the warmth would fade, the moment Dunk would flinch away from the darkness that clung to him. But that moment never came. Dunk didn’t fear him. Dunk didn’t recoil from his magic, from the quiet storm brewing inside him. Dunk stayed, steady and constant, wanting not to fix him—but to understand him. To simply be there, even when Joong was convinced he didn’t deserve it.

And slowly—so slowly Joong barely noticed it happening—he began to let Dunk in. Piece by piece, crack by crack, Joong opened up. What began as an unlikely friendship deepened into something more, something Joong tried to resist, tried to deny, but couldn’t.

Because no matter how tightly he wrapped himself in the dark, Dunk was there, a light he couldn’t ignore.

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The day Madame Morrible arrived at Shiz and set her calculating gaze on Joong, she saw what no one else had cared to notice. Beneath the quiet, the caution, the carefully measured words, she sensed it — raw, unshaped power. With a thin smile, knowing the Wizard’s hunger for such rare talent, she sent a letter to the Emerald City. And soon, the summons arrived: Joong was invited to join the Wizard’s elite ranks.

It was everything Joong had dreamed of — or so he kept telling himself.

As he packed his few belongings, folding each piece with meticulous care, his hands trembled. He paused, staring down at the half-filled satchel. This was it. His escape. His only chance to break free from the cold, watchful eyes of Shiz, from the whispers behind his back, from the gnawing feeling that no matter how hard he worked, he would never belong.

But why now?

Joong’s heart twisted painfully. Why now, when I was just starting to feel steady? Why me, when there are others far more eager, far more willing?

And worst of all, what if this is a trap? Madame Morrible’s smiles were never quite smiles — they were sharp, thin-edged. And the Wizard… Joong knew little about him, but what little he did know left a cold pit of unease in his gut.

He sank onto the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, pressing his hands hard over his face.

You should be excited. This is your dream. Isn’t it? But the more he repeated it, the more hollow it felt. 

Unable to sit still, Joong rose and crossed to the window, drawn by something he couldn’t name. And there, in the courtyard below, was Dunk.

Sitting cross-legged on the grass, hunched over some little project, Dunk’s brow was furrowed in concentration, a faint crease between his eyebrows. Joong’s heart clenched. Dunk had always been there. Always steady, always sure. Joong swallowed hard.

Go to him. Tell him. Ask him to come.

The thought wrapped around his heart, desperate and trembling. He could come.

They could face this together. Dunk would stand beside him, and would help steady him when Joong’s own knees felt weak. Dunk would understand.

But — what if he didn’t?

What if Joong was being selfish, pulling Dunk into something dangerous, something that wasn’t his burden to carry?

What if the Wizard’s world tore them apart?

Joong’s throat felt tight, his breath shallow.

Maybe it’s better to spare him. Maybe it’s better to go alone.

And then —

Dunk glanced up.

As if sensing Joong’s gaze, Dunk turned slightly, looking toward the window. His eyes met Joong’s — and he smiled.

Not a wide, laughing grin. Just a small, soft, knowing smile. The kind that said, I see you. I’m here. The kind that, without a word, made Joong feel seen and steady and known.

Joong’s breath caught. His fingers dug into the window frame. That smile undid him more than anything else could. It made him want to run downstairs, to drop the packed bag and tell Dunk everything — the fear, the doubts, the summons, the choice he was too terrified to make.

But his feet stayed frozen. His heart pounded in his chest, caught in the raw ache of wanting and the sharp edge of fear.

I want to ask you to come with me, Joong thought desperately. I want you to stand by my side. But if I ask… will you say yes? Or will I break something between us forever?

Below, Dunk had already turned back to his work, unaware of the storm unraveling inside Joong’s chest.

Joong leaned his forehead against the cool windowpane, eyes closing. He had to decide — soon.

And he had never felt so painfully, achingly alone.

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The morning sun was rising over Shiz University, casting long shadows across the courtyard. Joong, standing at the gates of the university, was ready to leave. His mind was set on the Emerald City, but the thought of Dunk lingered. He couldn’t help but wonder if he could ask Dunk to come with him. Joong had been preparing for this moment alone, but now, faced with the reality of leaving, the idea of Dunk not by his side felt... wrong.

He took a deep breath and turned, his eyes scanning the grounds until he saw Dunk, standing by the stone wall, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Dunk’s usual bright energy was tempered today, his expression unreadable as he held Joong’s gaze.

"Come with me," Joong said, his voice almost a whisper, filled with the weight of an unspoken plea.

Dunk blinked, clearly taken aback. "What do you mean?"

Joong stepped closer, the invitation to the Emerald City still clutched in his hand. "Come with me to the Emerald City. We can leave this place together, Dunk. We can make a new beginning. You don’t have to stay here, you don’t have to be the light for everyone else."

Dunk’s eyes softened as he listened to Joong’s words, his expression searching, torn between loyalty and doubt. "You know I can’t just leave, Joong. Everyone relies on me here. They need me."

Joong’s golden eyes flickered with something like frustration, but it quickly faded. He understood Dunk’s responsibility. But he also knew that Dunk was carrying a burden, one that went beyond the expectations of others.

"I know," Joong said, his voice quiet but insistent. "But you don’t have to be everything for everyone, Dunk. You don’t have to be the star, the one everyone looks up to. You don’t have to be perfect."

Dunk took a step back, his hand instinctively rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t meet Joong’s gaze immediately, but Joong could see the internal struggle within him.

"I don’t know if I can just walk away from everything," Dunk admitted softly. "It’s not that simple."

Joong approached him, his presence unwavering. "I’m not asking you to abandon your friends. But don’t you think it’s time you did something for yourself? Don’t you think it’s time you lived for you, Dunk? I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong here. But I don’t want to face this alone. Not without you."

Dunk looked at him, and for the first time, Joong saw the flicker of hesitation in his eyes fade. Dunk wasn’t afraid of his magic, wasn’t afraid of the darkness that lingered in Joong’s soul. Instead, he saw something Joong hadn’t seen in himself in a long time—a chance for a future, not shaped by others’ expectations, but shaped by their own desires.

"You’re right," Dunk said quietly, finally meeting Joong’s gaze. "Maybe it is time I did something for myself. And maybe... maybe it is time to let go of being everything for everyone else."

Joong’s heart skipped a beat at Dunk’s words. He hadn’t expected Dunk to say yes so easily, but now that he had, it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He stepped closer, his voice soft but firm.

"Then come with me. We can figure it out together. You don’t have to carry everyone’s light. Let’s find our own path in the Emerald City."

Dunk’s lips curled into a small smile, a genuine warmth behind it. "Alright," he said. "I’ll come with you, Joong. Together."

Joong’s heart swelled with something he couldn’t name, something that had always been there but had never been fully realized until now. They weren’t just two students from Shiz University anymore. They were something more—partners in whatever lay ahead.

Together, Joong and Dunk stood at the gates of Shiz University, the weight of their decision settling between them like a shared secret. The world beyond the university walls was vast, full of unknowns, and for the first time, Joong didn’t feel the crushing weight of his isolation. Dunk was there, his presence a light Joong hadn’t realized he needed so desperately. Dunk’s smile, though soft and uncertain, was enough to dissolve some of the fear that clung to Joong’s heart.

“I never thought you’d say yes,” Joong murmured, his voice a mixture of relief and disbelief.

Dunk laughed quietly, the sound low and genuine. “You made me realize something for myself,” he replied, his eyes meeting Joong’s with a quiet understanding. “I don’t want to be the light for everyone anymore. I think... I think I need to find my own place, too.”

Joong nodded, his gaze softening. There was something about Dunk’s willingness to walk this uncertain path with him that stirred something deep inside. It was the kind of trust Joong wasn’t used to, the kind of bond he had never allowed himself to form. And yet, here it was, growing between them.

As they turned away from the gates, the path to the Emerald City felt less daunting, less distant. The road ahead was still unclear, full of potential danger and challenge. But Joong was no longer alone, and that thought made all the difference.

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On their journey to Emerald City, Dunk couldn’t help but notice the worry etched across Joong’s face. Joong had always been someone who kept his distance from others, guarding the parts of himself that felt too broken, too dangerous to share. But Dunk never let him slip too far away. He never pushed Joong to confess his deepest fears — instead, he stayed by his side, quietly offering his presence, his understanding, and whatever support Joong needed, without question.

“You don’t have to carry this alone, you know,” Dunk said softly, his voice breaking through Joong’s thoughts.

Joong looked up at him, startled by the words. “What do you mean?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

“I know there’s something you’re hiding,” Dunk continued, sitting down beside Joong, his eyes kind but steady. “You don’t have to tell me everything, Joong. But you don’t have to face it by yourself. Whatever it is, I’ll be here.”

Joong swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. For so long, he had kept his burdens locked away, convinced that no one could understand, that no one would want to. But here was Dunk, offering him a way out of the isolation he had chosen for himself.

“I’m scared, Dunk,” Joong whispered, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. The magic inside me... it’s too much sometimes. I don’t even know if I can control it anymore.”

Dunk’s expression softened, his hand gently resting on Joong’s arm. “You don’t have to do it alone,” he repeated, his words steady, his gaze unwavering. “I’m with you, Joong. We’ll figure it out together.”

The sincerity in Dunk’s voice was like a balm to Joong’s wounded soul. For the first time in a long while, Joong allowed himself to feel the weight of his fears, to let the vulnerability seep through. He had always been so focused on controlling everything—his magic, his emotions, his path—but here, with Dunk beside him, he realized that control didn’t always mean strength. Sometimes, it meant allowing others to help, to share the burden.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Joong said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Dunk replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Just... let me be here with you.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Joong smiled, a small but genuine curve of his lips. He didn’t know what the future held, or where this path with Dunk would lead. But for the first time, he didn’t feel so alone in the dark.

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When they arrived in the Emerald City, it was as magnificent as Joong had imagined—gleaming towers, lush gardens, and streets filled with magic. But beneath its beauty, a dark undercurrent lingered. The Wizard’s presence was palpable, and Madame Morrible’s eyes gleamed with a calculating ambition that unnerved Joong. The city's grandeur was overshadowed by the growing realization that the Wizard and Morrible might have different plans for him than they had led him to believe.

Their arrival at the grand halls was nothing like Joong had anticipated. There was fanfare, yes, but it quickly became clear that the Wizard saw him not as a prodigy to be nurtured but as a tool to be controlled. The Wizard's smooth, persuasive voice echoed in Joong's ears as he offered promises of power, prosperity, and a new age for Oz, but it was all tainted by the feeling that Joong’s value was being reduced to his magic.

Joong’s suspicions deepened when Madame Morrible subtly revealed her true intentions. What was supposed to be an opportunity for Joong to shape his own destiny was, in reality, a means for the Wizard to extend his control over Oz. Joong wasn’t a partner in their vision—he was a pawn, a weapon to enforce their rule.

The realization hit Joong with the force of a tidal wave. The Wizard and Morrible cared nothing for Oz's well-being. They were power-hungry, driven by a thirst for domination. The land, once full of life and freedom, would now be stifled under their manipulative reign. Joong could no longer stand idly by.

“I didn’t come here for this,” Joong said coldly, his anger boiling over. “I was promised a chance to prove myself. This isn’t about Oz. This is about you using me for your own gain.”

Madame Morrible’s smile was condescending. “You’ll understand soon enough, Joong. This is for the greater good.”

Joong’s fists clenched as his magic flared around him, a dark storm of untamed power that had always been misunderstood. “I won’t be your puppet,” he spat, his voice laced with fury.

The Wizard’s face twisted with rage. “You have no choice. You’ll do as you're told, or else.”

And with that, Joong unleashed his magic. Dark bolts of energy tore through the air, shattering windows and rattling the very walls of the Emerald City. The power inside him surged uncontrollably, more forceful than anything he had ever felt. Dunk, standing by Joong’s side, was terrified, unable to reconcile the person he knew with the raw intensity of Joong’s anger.

“Joong, stop!” Dunk cried, rushing forward. “Please, calm down!”

But Joong’s eyes burned with fury. “I can’t calm down, Dunk. They’ve lied to us. The Wizard and Morrible aren’t here to save Oz. They’re here to control it.”

Dunk’s heart broke as he saw Joong consumed by the darkness within him. But despite the chaos, he couldn’t abandon Joong. He reached out, his voice full of warmth and pleading. “Joong, please... just apologize. We can leave. We can figure this out together.”

But Joong shook his head, his golden eyes filled with sadness. “No, Dunk. It’s too late for that. They’ve already made their choice, and so have I.”

With those words, Joong released the full extent of his power. The room quaked as his magic clashed with the Wizard’s, threatening to bring down the entire Emerald City. The Wizard and Morrible retaliated with their own magic, but Joong’s rage was too much to contain. In the end, it was Joong’s fury that overpowered them.

Exhausted, Joong collapsed. Dunk rushed to his side, his heart pounding as he tried to understand the chaos around them. The people of the Emerald City, once in awe of Joong, now regarded him with disdain. The Wizard, his face twisted with victory, ordered Joong’s exile.

“You are a threat to Oz,” the Wizard proclaimed coldly. “Leave now, or we’ll ensure you never return.”

Dunk’s heart shattered as Joong turned to him, golden eyes filled with sorrow. “Dunk... you have to stay. You have your place here. I can’t drag you into this.”

“I can’t leave you,” Dunk protested, his voice shaking with emotion.

Joong’s gaze flickered, the hard edge in his voice wavering just slightly, betraying the storm beneath his calm. “You must stay, Dunk. If you come with me now, you’ll be pulled into this war — and I can’t let that happen to you.” He swallowed hard, his fists clenching at his sides. “You’re the only one who knows what they really are, the only one who can expose their lies. You have a chance to change everything… but not if you follow me.”

For a moment, his eyes softened, the weight of unspoken emotions pressing between them. “I want you with me more than anything,” Joong murmured, his voice cracking, “but if you come, you’ll lose yourself in this fight. Please… stay.”

Tears blurred Dunk’s vision as he took a shaky, reluctant step back, his breath hitching, his chest tight as if it might splinter under the unbearable weight of goodbye. His hands trembled at his sides, curling into fists, as though clenching them could somehow hold this moment in place — could somehow keep Joong from slipping away. Every part of him ached to rush forward, to refuse this parting, to beg Joong to stay. But deep down, he knew Joong was right. Following him now would only drag them both into destruction.

“I’ll never forget you, Joong…” Dunk whispered, his voice cracking, barely able to force the words past the knot in his throat. “I just… I just hope someday you’ll find your way back to me.”

Joong stood still, his jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with an emotion he couldn’t afford to show. His hand twitched slightly at his side, as if — just for a moment — he might reach out, might wipe away the tears spilling down Dunk’s face. But he didn’t. His fingers flexed, then curled tightly into a fist as he swallowed hard, forcing himself to hold back.

A shaky breath escaped him, and in a voice so soft Dunk barely heard it, Joong murmured, “… I hope so too.”

But then, without another word, Joong turned and began to walk away, his figure growing smaller as he moved farther from the Emerald City, farther from Dunk.

Dunk stood frozen, heart pounding, each step Joong took pulling painfully at the strings of his heart, as if unraveling something he was powerless to stop. And then, just a few meters away, Joong stopped. For a brief, suspended moment, he turned his head and glanced back — his eyes meeting Dunk’s one last time, a silent farewell heavy with everything they had never dared to say aloud.

Dunk’s breath caught in his throat, his fingers twitching slightly as if they might reach out, but no words came.

Then Joong faced forward again and continued into the unknown, leaving Dunk behind — standing alone with a heart full of love, loss, and the faintest, fragile hope that maybe, someday, their paths would cross again.

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As the doors of the Emerald City closed with a soft, final thud, Dunk was left standing alone, the weight of unspoken love pressing down on him like an invisible force. The city, unchanged and indifferent, continued on, bustling as though nothing had shifted. But for Dunk, everything had shifted. The love he could never claim was etched into his soul, a permanent scar that would never fade, marking him in ways the world would never see.

Why did I have to let him go? Dunk thought, his chest tightening. Was I ever really going to follow him? Was I strong enough to bear what that path would mean? He closed his eyes, feeling the cold sting of tears threatening to rise again. But I couldn’t drag him here with me, not when he had so much more to fight for. So much more to live for.

The streets remained vibrant, a stark contrast to the hollow ache inside him. People walked past, unaware of the silent war waging within him, unaware of the love that had slipped away. Dunk’s life had been forever altered — not by the city around him, but by the bond he’d shared with Joong, a bond that now felt impossibly distant.

Did he ever truly understand? Did I ever truly understand? Dunk wondered, looking up at the city’s grand architecture, the world moving on while his heart stayed frozen in time. Did he ever know how much I needed him?

It felt like a dream, a dream he couldn’t fully grasp. That connection, that warmth, slipping through his fingers like smoke, fading with every breath. I don’t even know if I’ll see him again… or if I even should.

And yet, the hope remained — faint, fragile. Maybe, someday, our paths will cross again. Maybe.

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Days turned into weeks, and Dunk felt himself becoming more of a shell than the person he once was. The world around him seemed to shift and warp, its edges blurred by Morrible’s words, by the weight of his actions, and by the heavy silence where Joong’s presence used to be. Dunk no longer recognized the streets of the Emerald City. They were foreign to him now, filled with eyes that once admired him but now scrutinized him as a traitor.

Still, he held onto the fragile thread of his beliefs — that Joong was right, that he had left for a reason, that their love was something more than just a passing moment. Every time Dunk closed his eyes, he could still feel Joong’s hand in his, the warmth of his presence, the gentle way Joong had always looked at him. But even as he clung to these memories, the seeds of doubt planted by Morrible grew like poison in his mind, slowly strangling the hope he so desperately clung to.

It started innocently enough.

One night, as Dunk stood in the grand halls of the Emerald City, his task completed, Morrible approached him. Her smile was cold, like a knife wrapped in velvet.

"Dunk," she said, her voice silky with a hint of something darker beneath. "You’ve been doing so well. The Wizard will be pleased with your efforts."

Her praise was like acid in Dunk’s ears. He hadn’t done anything to deserve it. He had followed orders, yes — but had he done so willingly? The guilt twisted inside him, gnawing at his insides. He had hurt people. He had silenced voices that had once spoken for justice. He had become a weapon of the Wizard’s tyranny.

"But you’re still struggling, aren’t you?" Morrible continued, her gaze piercing. "I can see it in your eyes. You’re not the same person you were when we first met. You’ve been torn apart by your confusion. You’re still clinging to a past that never existed, Dunk."

The words stung more than they should have. Dunk tried to swallow the lump in his throat. It’s a lie, he told himself. Joong would never have hurt me.

"I’m sure you’re still thinking about him," Morrible continued with a knowing smile, her voice softening as she took a step closer. "You miss him, don’t you? The way he abandoned you… he left you here to clean up his mess. He didn’t have the strength to fight for Oz. He didn’t care about you. He didn’t care about anyone but himself."

Dunk flinched as if she had struck him physically. Her words crawled beneath his skin, making his heart ache in ways it shouldn’t. He wanted to argue, to yell that she was wrong, but his voice caught in his throat. The nagging doubts were starting to feel too real, too heavy. What if Morrible was right? What if Joong had left him?

"He never truly cared about you," Morrible whispered, her voice like a breath against his ear. "He used you, Dunk. And now, you’re left to pick up the pieces. You’re stronger than he was, stronger than he’ll ever be. Join us, and you can be the hero Oz needs. You can save Oz, Dunk. You can make everything right again."

Her hand brushed his arm, and Dunk shuddered, feeling a coldness seep into his bones. He looked into her eyes, and for a moment, a part of him wanted to believe her. It was easier, wasn’t it? It was easier to believe that Joong had been the one in the wrong. It was easier to fall in line, to submit, to follow the path she laid out before him. Maybe I wasn’t strong enough for Joong, he thought bitterly. Maybe I was just holding him back.

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Another task. Another night.

Dunk stood in the shadows of a secluded alley, waiting for Morrible’s next command. The whispers from his previous encounter with her still lingered, gnawing at his thoughts. Joong had left him. Joong had abandoned Oz. He didn’t care about Dunk. He had never cared about him. The doubts consumed him, the world around him becoming less certain, less real.

The Wizard’s voice came next, low and commanding, a quiet storm in his mind. “You did well today, Dunk. Morrible is right — you’re the only one who can make the real difference in this war. You’ve proven your loyalty to us. And, in return, we’ll give you everything you want. Power. Control. A place where you truly belong.”

"I just want to make things right," Dunk muttered, his voice weak, as though trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “I just… I just want things to go back to the way they were. I want to be who I was.”

The Wizard’s cold gaze settled on him. “But you can never go back, Dunk,” he said, his voice almost sympathetic. “That boy you were before — the one who believed in Joong — he’s gone now. He died the moment you chose to stand with us. And this new you... this new you can make a difference. You can do what’s best for Oz.”

Dunk stood frozen, his heart in turmoil. He had always believed in doing what was right, but now the lines were blurred. The world had turned into a battlefield of lies and truths, where nothing was clear, and every choice felt wrong.

But then the familiar ache of loss crept back into his chest, and Dunk remembered Joong’s face — the way his eyes had softened when they’d talked about their dreams, their hopes. I can’t let him go, Dunk thought desperately. I can’t let everything we were slip away, even if Morrible and the Wizard try to break me.

 ✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

And so Dunk fought.

He fought against the manipulation, against the voices that told him he didn’t matter, that Joong never cared. Each time Morrible’s or the Wizard’s words echoed in his mind, Dunk would close his eyes and remind himself of the truth. Joong loved him. Joong cared. And one day, they would be together again.

Every task he completed, every order he obeyed, was another step further into the heart of the lies that surrounded him. But Dunk never let them break him entirely. He still believed. Even if it felt hopeless. Even if the world seemed to turn against him. Joong was out there. And he would find him.

 ✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

A Few Years Later

The air felt thick with unspoken words as Dunk approached the clearing, each step heavier than the last. He had been given his mission: Find Joong. Bring him back. A simple order, one that had once seemed possible, even necessary. But what they hadn’t told him, what Dunk couldn’t bear to acknowledge, was that the mission wasn’t about saving Joong—it was about erasing him. About extinguishing the very light that had once burned so brightly in Dunk’s life, the light that had lit his heart in ways he couldn’t explain, ways he didn’t want to forget.

The weight of that knowledge hung around Dunk like a shroud, suffocating him, reminding him of the truth he couldn’t escape: this mission could only end one way—with loss. He had known it from the moment he’d received the order, but what he hadn’t anticipated was the suffocating weight of that loss, how it would feel as if a part of his very soul was being torn away, slowly and painfully, with every step that brought him closer to Joong.

When the clearing came into view, Dunk’s heart stopped. There he was.

Joong stood in the quiet embrace of the forest, a figure Dunk had once known so intimately, as familiar as his own heartbeat. His hair had grown longer, dark strands falling loosely around his face, and his shoulders were broader, more defined. Yet, in the stillness of the moment, Joong's presence remained the same—strong, untamable, as powerful as Dunk remembered, as undeniable as the pull that had once brought them together.

Joong didn’t hear him approach. He never did. Dunk could’ve sworn that Joong had always been able to sense his presence, though, the way Dunk had always felt his — an unspoken connection that transcended the world around them. He had always been attuned to Dunk’s heart, his pulse, the rhythm of his breathing, in ways Dunk had never fully understood. Until now.

Dunk stopped just a few feet away, his breath shallow, his chest tight with the weight of everything he hadn’t said, everything that had changed. The world around him seemed to fade, leaving only Joong—so close, and yet so far away. The very air between them seemed to vibrate with the memories of everything they had shared. And still, as Dunk stood there, frozen, he could feel it—the pang in his chest, the ache of longing that refused to be dulled, refused to be forgotten. It was the same feeling he had carried with him every day since Joong had walked away, the same feeling that still haunted him now, years later.

It was a feeling Dunk couldn’t erase. No matter how much he’d tried to bury it beneath the weight of Morrible’s manipulations, no matter how much he had tried to move on, this—Joong—was the one thing he couldn’t let go of. And standing here now, staring at Joong’s back, his heart trembled, as if waking up from a long, suffocating sleep.

The forest was eerily silent, the only sound the soft rustle of the leaves in the wind. Dunk’s throat tightened, the words he had rehearsed over and over in his mind failing him now. “Joong,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. It was a word that felt foreign in his mouth, a word that carried years of regret, pain, and unspoken love.

Joong didn’t turn around immediately. Dunk waited, his breath caught in his throat, as the silence between them stretched on. Time seemed to warp, slowing down, stretching out every moment until it felt as though the entire world hung suspended in the air. Dunk could hear the beating of his heart, pounding louder than anything else, louder than the distant whispers of the Wizard's demands that echoed in his mind.

Then, slowly, Joong turned.

The sight of him—the way his dark eyes flickered with a mix of recognition and something else, something Dunk couldn’t quite place—made his chest tighten. Joong’s gaze swept over him, and for a long moment, the world seemed to stand still.

There was so much Dunk wanted to say, but words failed him. His throat felt dry, the weight of everything he had done pressing down on him, on his heart. He had never thought he would see Joong again, much less stand in front of him, a mere breath away from the decision that would change everything.

Joong’s expression softened, but only for a moment. "Dunk," he said quietly, his voice still carrying that same strength, the same certainty Dunk had always admired. But now there was a sadness in his eyes—one that matched Dunk’s own. “I knew you’d come,” Joong said, his voice soft but laced with a vulnerability that Dunk had not heard in years. “I never thought it would be like this, though.”

For a second, Dunk felt a surge of guilt. It wasn’t the guilt of the mission—that was there, yes, but it was the guilt of leaving Joong behind, the guilt of following orders without truly understanding the cost of his choices. But more than that, it was the guilt of loving Joong, of always loving him, even when he had tried so hard to bury it, even when the world had tried to tell him it wasn’t worth it.

Dunk took a hesitant step forward, reaching out for Joong, but he stopped himself before he could touch him. "Joong," Dunk said, his voice thick with a depth of emotion he could barely comprehend. "I didn’t to..,” Dunk said, his words heavy with regret. He swallowed, trying to steady his voice. “I didn’t come to hurt you.”

Joong took a step forward, and for a fleeting moment, their eyes locked in understanding. The years between them had not dulled the connection they once shared. If anything, it had only deepened.

“You never intended to,” Joong replied softly, his voice tinged with a sadness that cut through the quiet like a blade. “But you did, Dunk. You stayed. I had to leave the city. I had to leave everything behind—everything I thought mattered. But you…” He trailed off, a flicker of something raw and vulnerable passing across his eyes. “You just stayed there. Stuck. In the same place. And for so long, I thought I meant nothing to you. I thought you’d forgotten me. Forgotten everything we were.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with a pain Dunk hadn’t expected, hadn’t wanted to face. The weight of Joong’s silence in the years between them crushed down on him now, and Dunk’s chest tightened. His heart, which had been so sure of Joong’s feelings, suddenly felt like it was cracking open.

“I never forgot you,” Dunk whispered, his voice hoarse. “Not for a single day. I couldn't. I couldn’t forget the way you made me feel, Joong. You were everything to me. But when you left... I had no choice. I couldn’t chase you. Not like that.”

Joong’s gaze softened, but there was still a hardness behind it, something buried deep. “You think I wanted you to chase me?” he asked, his tone quieter now, but edged with a quiet fury. “I needed you to stand up for us—stand up for what we had. Stand up for what is right. But you didn’t. You stayed behind and did nothing while they controlled you, Dunk. You let them turn you into someone else. And that… that hurt more than anything.”

The words stung like fire against Dunk’s skin. He had never fully understood the gravity of the choice Joong had made when he walked away. He thought Joong was the one who had abandoned him, not realizing that Joong had sacrificed everything—had sacrificed him—for a cause he couldn’t compromise on.

“I didn’t want to be controlled,” Dunk replied, his voice raw. “I didn’t want to do any of it, Joong. But they made it impossible to fight back. They had me in their grasp, and I couldn’t escape. I thought if I could stay, if I could follow their orders... Maybe I could keep the city safe, keep everything from falling apart.”

Joong’s eyes darkened, the pain within them matching Dunk’s own. “And in doing so, you let them break you.” He looked away, a deep sigh escaping his lips. “I thought I could come back for you, Dunk. I thought maybe… maybe things could be the way they were. But you’re not the same. You’re not the Dunk I remember. You’ve changed.”

Dunk felt the weight of Joong’s words like a stone pressing against his chest. He had changed. He knew it. The person he had been before had been swallowed up by the war, by the manipulation, by the city’s expectations. He had become a part of the very thing he had sworn to fight against.

“I know,” Dunk murmured, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything. I thought I was doing the right thing. But in the end, I only hurt us both.”

Joong didn’t answer immediately, but the silence between them spoke volumes. Finally, he glanced at Dunk, his gaze a mix of sorrow and something deeper—something buried beneath the layers of pain, betrayal, and lost time.

“I never wanted you to hurt, Dunk,” Joong said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “But I couldn’t stay. Not when you couldn’t see what was happening. Not when you couldn’t see me for what I was, for what we were together.”

Dunk took a step forward, his heart aching with every beat. “I see you, Joong,” he said, his voice full of longing. “I see you now. I never stopped seeing you.”

For a moment, Joong didn’t respond, his gaze lingering on Dunk with a depth that threatened to break everything inside him. And Dunk realized—maybe Joong hadn’t left him. Maybe Joong had never truly left. It was Dunk who had let the distance grow between them, it was Dunk who had allowed the forces around him to pull them apart.

The realization hit Dunk like a flood, and he was helpless to stop the tears that welled up in his eyes. "I didn't know how to come back to you," he whispered. "But I never stopped thinking about you, Joong. I never stopped loving you."

Joong’s expression softened, just a little, but it was enough to break Dunk. The walls he had built up to protect himself, to shield himself from the heartache of loving Joong, crumbled. He was raw now, laid bare in front of Joong, and he didn’t know if he could stand it, but he also didn’t know if he could walk away. Not this time.

“I never wanted you to suffer, Dunk,” Joong said, his voice softer now, a flicker of something that felt almost like hope, like the possibility of a future. “But I couldn’t let you keep pretending. We’re not the same anymore. And I don’t know if we can go back. But I—”

Before Joong could finish, Dunk closed the distance between them, reaching out with trembling hands to touch Joong’s arm. "We don’t have to go back," Dunk said, his voice shaking. “I don’t care what we were. I care about what we could still be.”

Joong’s eyes flickered, a momentary flash of vulnerability crossing his face, before it was replaced with that familiar resolve. The air between them seemed charged, thick with all the things they couldn’t say, the love that still lingered beneath the weight of their unspoken words, and the pain of what they had lost.

Dunk’s heart pounded in his chest, the impulse to close the distance overwhelming, but he hesitated. He had already lost so much. What could one more moment, one more touch, even mean in the face of everything that had come before?

But Joong didn’t pull away. He didn’t look anywhere but into Dunk’s eyes. The quiet, unspoken tension between them seemed to stretch, pulling them closer, as if the universe itself had conspired to give them just this one final moment.

And then, without a word, Joong leaned in.

The kiss was slow, hesitant at first, as if both of them were still unsure whether this was a moment of reunion or closure. Dunk’s lips met Joong’s gently, the familiar warmth of him rushing over him in waves, flooding his senses with a bittersweet feeling. The kiss tasted of salt, of years lost, of memories both cherished and painful.

For a heartbeat, it felt like everything was right again. Like time had paused, like the world outside the clearing had vanished, leaving only them—two souls bound by a love that neither could deny, no matter how far apart they’d been. Dunk felt Joong’s arms around him, steadying him as though they were falling back into something they could never fully escape from.

But the moment was fleeting. As quickly as it had begun, Joong pulled away, just enough to look into Dunk’s eyes. There was a depth in Joong’s gaze—something final, something that said more than words ever could.

“I have to go,” Joong whispered, his voice rough, but the words were no less painful for their simplicity. “I can’t stay, Dunk. I’m sorry.”

Tears welled in Dunk’s eyes, the weight of the goodbye crashing into him with the force of a storm. He had never imagined that their reunion would be like this—that it would be a last kiss, a final moment of connection before everything fell apart again. But now, standing there with Joong, he understood the truth of it. They were two different people now, and the world they once dreamed of sharing was nothing more than a fading echo.

“I know,” Dunk whispered back, his voice cracking, “I know. But I’ll never forget you, Joong. I’ll never stop loving you.”

Joong’s lips trembled slightly, and for a moment, Dunk thought he saw something break in him. But Joong said nothing. Instead, he turned away, walking into the shadows of the forest, each step taking him farther from Dunk, from everything they had been, from the future they could never have.

The kiss lingered for a moment longer than either of them had expected. Dunk felt Joong’s warmth seep into him, a final echo of everything they had once been. The world seemed to pause, the air heavy with the weight of their shared past, their shared love. For a heartbeat, they were the same—two souls intertwined, unable to escape the pull of the bond that had always defined them.

But as Joong pulled away, a quiet sadness filled the space between them. His breath was shaky, his gaze distant as he looked past Dunk, eyes turning towards the horizon. The first light of dawn was breaking through the clouds, casting soft pinks and golds across the sky, as if the world itself were bearing witness to their parting.

Joong’s hand hovered for a moment, then he gently pulled it back. Dunk’s chest tightened at the motion, as if the distance between them had already begun to grow in the span of seconds.

Joong didn’t speak right away. Instead, he lifted his gaze to the sky, watching the light slowly spill across the land, his mind lost in something far away, something Dunk couldn’t quite touch. Finally, Joong’s voice broke the silence, soft but filled with a quiet weight.

“Maybe we can’t go back,” Joong said, his words heavy, each one a reminder of what had been lost. “But that doesn’t mean we haven’t made each other who we are now. It doesn’t mean you haven’t changed me... in ways I can’t even explain. I was lost, too, Dunk. I was lost, and you found me. But now... now I’ve found my own path.”

Dunk’s heart ached, his throat tight as the tears he had held back for so long finally fell, running down his cheeks like rivers of regret. “Joong... please. Don’t leave me,” Dunk whispered, his voice breaking, fragile and raw.

Joong turned back to him slowly, his eyes unwavering, but there was something different now—a quiet sorrow, something older than the both of them. It was like he had already said goodbye in his heart, even if his body had yet to follow.

“I’m not leaving you, Dunk,” Joong said gently, his voice carrying a weight Dunk couldn’t bear. “I’m leaving the past. I’m leaving Oz behind. But you... you’ll always be a part of me. You changed me. And I think, in some way, I changed you too.”

Dunk’s heart shattered at the finality of Joong’s words. They had changed. They had become different people, shaped by the time apart, by the pain and the distance. But even through it all, even in the face of everything that had come between them, Dunk couldn’t stop the love that still swelled in his chest. He had changed Joong, and Joong had changed him—perhaps in ways they would never fully understand, but the bond would never truly fade.

“I don’t know what the future holds,” Joong continued, his voice softer now, almost a whisper, “But what we had... that was real, Dunk. You’ll always be a part of me. And I’ll always be a part of you.”

Dunk closed his eyes, his breath shaky, the tears falling freely now. His chest felt as though it were being torn in two, the weight of their farewell too much to carry. “I’ll never forget you, Joong. Never. I wish... I wish I could have seen it sooner. I wish I could have been the one to protect you from all of this.”

Joong stepped back, his expression serene, but the sadness in his eyes spoke of everything they could never have. “You did protect me. You did, in ways I’ll never forget. But we both need to move forward, Dunk. We need to find our own way.”

Dunk nodded, though every part of him screamed to hold on, to beg Joong to stay. But deep down, he knew the truth. Joong had already made his choice. And Dunk had to let him go. Even if it hurt more than he could bear.

They had changed. They had grown. And though the love they shared would never disappear, their paths had diverged. There was no going back.

As the sun finally broke through the clouds, casting a soft, golden glow across the forest, Joong turned, his silhouette growing smaller as he took the first step away from Dunk. Dunk stood there, frozen, watching him go, knowing deep down this was the end. This was goodbye.

But as Joong’s form faded into the distance, a small whisper of hope fluttered in Dunk’s chest. Maybe they will meet again.

And with that hope, Dunk whispered to the wind, to the departing figure of Joong, “I’ll always love you.”

And in that moment, despite the pain, despite the loss, Dunk knew that their love—changed, different, but never gone—would remain.

 ✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Dunk stood in the forest clearing, his chest heaving, heart pounding with the remnants of his decision. His gaze was fixed on the dark silhouette of Joong disappearing into the distance. It happened so fast. Joong had been struck, but it wasn’t a fatal shot—he had survived, but just barely. And now, Dunk was left with a mess of emotions and a tangled web of lies that he could barely comprehend.

But the quiet rustling of leaves snapped him out of his daze.

Morrible’s cold voice cut through the silence, “Dunk.”

He turned slowly, his body still tense with the adrenaline of the moment. She emerged from the shadows, her presence suffocating, as always. Behind her, her men stood at attention, their cold eyes locked on Dunk.

“You failed,” Morrible’s tone was deceptively calm. “You were supposed to ensure Joong didn’t escape again.”

Dunk’s chest tightened. “I didn’t... I couldn’t... you—”

“Couldn’t?” Morrible interrupted, her voice smooth, yet cutting like a blade. She took a step toward him, her heels clicking against the ground, sending a shiver down his spine. “You’ve been given so many chances, Dunk. So many opportunities to prove your loyalty. And yet, here you are, standing with the very person you were sent to destroy.”

Dunk’s hands clenched into fists, but he couldn’t bring himself to argue. It was true. He had been sent to find Joong, to end him, to bring him back under the Wizard’s control. But every fiber of his being screamed against it. How had it come to this? How had he become the enemy?

Morrible’s eyes gleamed with a calculating glint. She was always thinking, always one step ahead. “But you’re not as foolish as you think, Dunk. You haven’t lost everything just yet.”

Dunk’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You are a great asset, Dunk. You’re skilled, resourceful, and you’ve already proven that you can get close to Joong. That’s something not just anyone can do.” Morrible’s smile was faint, but it held an air of something darker. “Joong trusts you.”

Dunk took a shaky breath. “Joong... he doesn’t trust me anymore. Not after what I—”

“You think he’s going to let you in just like that? You think he’ll forgive you for your betrayal?” Morrible’s voice dropped to a low, threatening whisper. “He’s not going to forgive you, Dunk. He’s not going to let you back in. You’re nothing more than a pawn to him now.”

Her words struck harder than any blow. Dunk felt a sharp pang of guilt, his chest constricting. Joong had always trusted him. But that trust had been shattered, hadn’t it? Joong couldn’t possibly want him back after what had happened.

“No,” Dunk muttered under his breath, but he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince—Morrible or himself.

Morrible seemed to sense his inner turmoil, and she took a step closer, her voice softening into something almost motherly. “Dunk, look at what you’ve already sacrificed. You’ve put everything on the line for someone who doesn’t even care about you. You were never meant to be with him. You were meant for greater things.”

Dunk looked up at her, his eyes filled with confusion. “What are you saying?”

Morrible smiled, her expression turning almost tender, like she was speaking to a child who had just learned a harsh lesson. “I’m saying, Dunk, that you’ve made a mistake. You’ve invested so much of yourself in Joong, but all you’ve gotten in return is heartache and betrayal. You’ve lost your place in Oz, lost everything you once knew, all because of him. But you’re not beyond saving. Not yet.”

Her eyes locked onto his, dark and steady. “Joong isn’t the answer for you, Dunk. He never was. But I am. I’ve been here all along, waiting for you to see the truth. You’re more valuable to us than you are to him.”

Dunk took a step back, his mind racing. The words were poison, but they were tempting, a part of him wanted to believe them. He had always wanted to matter—to be someone who was more than just an afterthought. Morrible was offering him that. Power. A place. Purpose.

“I don’t want to be your puppet,” Dunk muttered, his voice hoarse.

“You’re not a puppet, Dunk,” Morrible whispered with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re a soldier. And right now, we need you to be just that.”

Dunk’s heart hammered in his chest as she placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch deceptively warm, like a venomous snake luring him in.

“Joong isn’t your ally anymore. He’s a danger. You’ve seen it yourself. His power, his unpredictability—it’s dangerous. But you? You’re someone who can control that. You can keep him in check. You can be the one to bring him to heel.”

Dunk’s breath hitched. The truth of her words gnawed at him, but somewhere deep inside, he knew it wasn’t right. “I’m not like you, Morrible.”

“No,” she said, her voice growing cold again. “You’re better. You’re capable of so much more. But you have to choose, Dunk. You have to choose your future.”

Her words were a lure, sweet and toxic. Dunk stared at the ground, trying to steady his breath. Everything inside him screamed to run to Joong, to make things right. But Morrible was right, wasn’t she? Joong had no place for him now. And Oz? Oz needed him. Oz needed him to do what was right.

“You’ll find Joong again,” Morrible continued, her voice like silk. “But this time, it won’t be about saving him. It will be about making sure he doesn’t become a threat to everything you’ve worked for.”

Dunk shook his head, his mind in turmoil. How did he end up here? How had everything become so twisted?

“You’ll follow me, Dunk,” Morrible said softly, “or I’ll make sure you never see him again.”

Her words were a threat, but Dunk was too broken to care. He didn’t know what to believe anymore, but there was something gnawing at him—the thought that Morrible was right. Maybe he had been meant for more than this, meant to bring order, to control the chaos Joong represented.

“Dunk,” Morrible’s voice was sweet again, coaxing, “I’m giving you the power to rewrite this story. Don’t waste it.”

In that moment, Dunk felt the pull of her words, the temptation of an easy path. But even as he stood there, torn between Morrible’s manipulation and his own heart, one thing was clear—he had to find Joong again, to make things right. No matter how much Morrible tried to twist him, Dunk knew the one thing he couldn’t lose was the love he still had for Joong.

“I’ll find him,” Dunk said quietly, his resolve hardening.

Morrible’s smile was one of triumph. “Good. You’re starting to see things my way. Now, let’s make sure Joong’s fate is sealed. Once and for all.”

With those final words, Dunk turned and walked into the shadows, knowing that he was on a path from which there would be no return. But one thing was certain—he couldn’t leave Joong to face the darkness alone.

 ✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Dunk leaned against the cold stone wall outside Morrible’s war room, arms crossed tightly, trying to push away the tension knotting in his chest. He was supposed to meet with her soon — another strategy session, another set of hollow orders he was supposed to follow blindly. But tonight, something felt… off.

The heavy door was closed, but the voices inside drifted through, just faint enough to stir his curiosity.

“Make sure the hunters leave immediately,” Morrible’s voice commanded, sharp as a knife cutting through silk.

Dunk stiffened. Hunters? His heart pounded faster.

Another voice, one of her senior men, spoke hesitantly. “Should Dunk be informed, Madam?”

There was a pause — a cold, calculating pause — before Morrible’s soft laugh echoed faintly through the door.

“No. Absolutely not.”

Dunk’s breath caught. He pressed closer to the door, his palms cold with sweat.

“Dunk has failed me too many times,” Morrible continued smoothly. “Every time I let him near Joong, he hesitates. He can’t do what must be done. This time, we finish the job — and Dunk won’t know until it’s over.”

The man hesitated. “But… what if Dunk finds out?”

Morrible’s voice hardened. “Then I’ll deal with him myself.”

Dunk’s blood turned to ice. His heart thudded painfully in his chest as panic surged up his throat.

No. No, no, no.

“Joong dies tonight,” Morrible finished, her voice curling into something almost triumphant. “And once he’s gone, Dunk will finally belong to me.”

Dunk stumbled back from the door, his breath ragged, his mind spinning. His heart screamed at him to run. He couldn’t let this happen.

Without another second of hesitation, he sprinted down the corridor, dodging startled guards and servants. His boots thundered against the stone floor, every step fueled by the raw, desperate need to reach Joong before the hunters did.

Please, please let me make it in time.

Bursting out into the icy night, Dunk barely felt the sting of the wind against his skin. He ran to the stables, where his horse waited. His hands fumbled with the reins, adrenaline making his fingers clumsy.

I can’t lose him. I can’t lose him like this.

Throwing himself into the saddle, he urged the horse into a gallop, racing through the moonlit countryside. Trees blurred past in streaks of black, branches whipping at his arms, his face, but he didn’t care. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, feel the weight of everything he was about to lose if he failed.

The forest loomed ahead — dark, wild, dangerous. Dunk dismounted and ran on foot, crashing through underbrush, every muscle burning as he sprinted deeper into the trees.

And then, through the tangle of branches — he saw them.

The hunters.

Dressed in black, moving like shadows between the trees, weapons drawn, their eyes sharp with intent. Dunk ducked behind a tree, his breath shaking, watching in horror as they spread out, surrounding a figure in the center of a small clearing.

Joong.

Joong stood, chest heaving, his clothes torn and bloodied. His eyes darted around, his muscles tensed, his body ready to fight — but Dunk knew he couldn’t take on all of them alone.

“JOONG!” Dunk roared, his voice ripping through the night like thunder.

Joong’s head snapped toward him, eyes wide with shock.

“Dunk?!”

Before Joong could move, an arrow shot toward him — but Joong was faster, twisting at the last second, the arrow slicing through his sleeve. Dunk lunged at one of the hunters, tackling him to the ground, fists flying.

“Run, Joong!” Dunk yelled, shoving the hunter aside. “RUN!”

But Joong didn’t run. With a fierce snarl, Joong turned and fought back, his powers flaring, his body moving with deadly precision. Together, they fought off the attackers — just barely managing to hold their ground until, one by one, the hunters were forced to retreat, vanishing into the shadows.

The clearing fell silent, the air heavy with the scent of crushed leaves, damp earth, and the sharp tang of blood. Dunk collapsed to his knees, his breath coming in harsh gasps.

Joong staggered over to him, his face pale, his arm bleeding.

“You weren’t supposed to be here,” Joong murmured, his voice raw and shaky. “Why… why did you come?”

Dunk lifted his eyes, tears glimmering under the moonlight.

“They were going to kill you, Joong,” he choked out. “Morrible — she sent them. She knew I’d try to stop it. She went behind my back.”

Joong knelt beside him, his eyes dark and unreadable.

“Why, Dunk? Why do you keep doing this? After everything?”

Dunk’s chest tightened painfully. He reached out, gripping Joong’s shoulder with trembling fingers.

“Because… I can’t let you die.” His voice cracked. “Even after everything, I still love you, Joong.”

Joong’s breath hitched, his gaze softening, the walls between them cracking — just for a moment.

“You still came for me,” Joong whispered, his voice barely audible.

Dunk let out a shaky laugh, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Always.”

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The moon hung low over the dark forest, silver light streaking through the trees. Joong stood near the edge of the clearing, bloodied and cornered, his back to the cliffside, golden light crackling faintly in his trembling hands. Across from him, Dunk stood with his sword drawn, chest heaving, torn between duty and instinct.

Around them, soldiers formed a tight circle, weapons raised, breath misting in the cold night air. Whispers ran through the ranks — uncertainty, suspicion, the brittle tension before violence.

“Dunk,” Joong said quietly, eyes locked on him. “They won’t stop, will they?”

Dunk’s grip tightened on his sword, heart pounding painfully in his chest. “I… I can’t let them hurt you.”

Suddenly, a cold, commanding voice cut through the night:

“How touching.”

From the shadows, Morrible emerged, her black robes gliding across the ground as if untouched by dirt or branch. She raised her arms, a sickly green glow pulsing at her fingertips.

The soldiers stiffened, parting for her, heads bowing instinctively. Dunk’s eyes widened. “Morrible?”

She smiled — sharp, elegant, venomous. “Did you really think you could disobey me, Dunk? That you could protect him and walk away unpunished?”

Dunk swallowed hard, stepping forward. “You ordered the assassination, didn’t you? You sent hunters — to kill, not capture.”

Morrible’s eyes glittered coldly. “I did what I had to do. Joong is a danger — to all of us, to everything.”

Joong raised his chin, his voice steady despite his wounds. “You’re afraid of me. That’s why you’ve lied to them all along.”

A ripple of unease spread among the soldiers. They glanced at each other, frowning, whispering.

Morrible’s gaze snapped to the ranks. “Silence! Don’t listen to him — he’s manipulating you, just like he manipulates Dunk!”

Dunk’s voice cut through her shrill command: “No. You’re the manipulator, Morrible. You told us Joong was the monster. But you just needed someone to blame — to keep control over everyone.”

The soldiers’ murmurs grew louder, suspicion flaring like wildfire.

Morrible’s smile twitched, sharp edges showing. “You don’t understand, Dunk. I built this kingdom from nothing. I kept it alive when no one else could. Without me, you’re nothing.”

She didn’t notice the way soldiers stiffened at her words, the way their eyes hardened.

Dunk took another step forward, sword pointed at her chest. “You’re wrong. We were never nothing — you just made us believe we were, so we’d never challenge you.”

Morrible’s face twisted in fury, her mask slipping. “Ungrateful wretches! I should have let you all rot — I should have let the darkness take you all!”

Gasps rippled through the soldiers. Her own words had betrayed her.

Dunk turned, lifting his voice. “You see now, don’t you? She’s the one who’s been the enemy all along!”

For a heartbeat, silence. Then the soldiers raised their weapons — against Morrible.

With a snap of her fingers, black magic flared at Morrible’s hands, crackling through the air with a sharp, unnatural hum. A dark storm spiraled above the courtyard, shadows twisting into monstrous shapes, slithering and coiling, preparing to strike.

For a heartbeat, the soldiers hesitated. Dunk felt their uncertainty like a heartbeat under his skin.

Then he roared: “SHE’S THE ENEMY! FIGHT HER!”

One by one, the soldiers turned. “We’ve been lied to!” one shouted. “She’s been using us!” another cried. “No more!”

Morrible shrieked, dark tendrils lashing out, sending soldiers flying as chaos erupted. Joong’s magic blazed golden, shielding Dunk and the others from the worst of her attacks. Dunk charged forward, sword drawn, weaving between blasts of dark energy. Joong was right beside him, cutting down shadow creatures, his power meeting Morrible’s with crackling fury.

“This isn’t over!” Morrible howled, desperation lacing her voice. “You need me! Without me, the kingdom will collapse!”

But the soldiers, once hers, now stood against her, closing in, weapons raised. Dunk, panting, his body burning with exhaustion, leveled his sword at her. “It’s over, Morrible.”

Joong, calm and resolute, raised his glowing hand. “You lose.”

With a final, piercing scream, Morrible unleashed one last blast of magic — but Joong caught it midair, twisting it apart, shattering it into harmless sparks.

Morrible stumbled back, her body trembling, power flickering like a dying flame. “No… no, this can’t be…”

She collapsed to her knees, gasping, black veins crawling up her arms. “I… I made this world… I saved you…”

Dunk watched silently as Morrible’s power cracked apart, the dark energy consuming her from within.

With one last, piercing scream, Morrible’s body dissolved into ash, swept away on the cold night wind.

The forest fell still.

Dunk lowered his sword, chest heaving, sweat stinging his eyes. Slowly, he turned to Joong, who was watching him quietly, the glow fading from his hands.

“You saved me again,” Joong murmured, voice soft.

Dunk let out a long, shaky breath, exhaustion crashing over him like a wave. “We saved each other.”

The soldiers gathered around them, some staring at the ash where Morrible had stood, others looking up at Dunk and Joong, waiting. The kingdom they had known was gone — but they were still standing.

Joong’s voice was quiet. “What now?”

Dunk looked up at the starlit sky, heart aching but steady. “Now… we fix what she broke.”

And side by side, under the pale light of the moon, Dunk and Joong faced the future — no longer enemies, no longer pawns, but two souls ready to rebuild a world scarred by lies.

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Later that night, Dunk stood before the soldiers, his face set with a cold, unflinching resolve. The grand courtyard of the palace, once the domain of Morrible and the Wizard, now felt like a place of judgment. The air was heavy with expectation, a quiet tension thickening the atmosphere as Dunk gazed down at the man who had once controlled Oz from the shadows.

The Wizard was brought forward, his once-commanding presence now shattered. His arrogant posture had withered, and now he stood before Dunk, hunched and trembling. The robes that had once marked him as a figure of authority hung loosely on his frail form, a stark contrast to the power he once wielded. His eyes, wide with fear, darted nervously from the soldiers to Dunk, seeking a way out that he knew no longer existed.

Dunk’s gaze hardened as he regarded the fallen ruler. There was no pity in his eyes. There could be none. Not after everything the Wizard had done. His betrayal ran deeper than Morrible’s, a manipulation so thorough, so pervasive, it had shaped the entire kingdom for years. Now, that kingdom was his to lead, and Dunk wouldn’t allow the legacy of lies to linger. He stood firm, his shoulders squared against the weight of it all.

“You thought you could control Oz,” Dunk’s voice rang out, steady and unyielding, slicing through the silence that had settled over the courtyard. The words felt like they belonged to someone else, someone stronger than the Dunk who had once only followed orders, but now, this was his truth. “But you were just another part of the lie.”

The Wizard, whose hands had once signed decrees that shaped the fate of many, now clenched them nervously at his sides. His lip trembled, but he made no attempt to speak. He was powerless now.

“The people of Oz deserve more than your deception,” Dunk continued, his eyes cold as steel. “You promised them a future, but all you gave them was a façade. A kingdom built on manipulation, on lies. But it ends here.”

A ripple of agreement spread through the soldiers behind Dunk. The men and women who had once bent to the will of the Wizard, the ones who had followed orders without question, now stood tall, their gazes no longer deferential. The fear that had once kept them in line had dissipated, replaced with something Dunk had never imagined he’d see: resolve. They weren’t just soldiers anymore. They were people who had seen the truth, and they knew it was time to reclaim what had been taken from them.

Dunk’s gaze shifted to the Wizard, his voice turning harsher, colder. “You’ll be held accountable for everything. For Morrible’s lies, for the bloodshed, for the pain you caused the people of Oz. It’s over.”

The Wizard’s eyes flickered with a desperate panic as Dunk stepped closer, his presence a looming reminder of the end of his reign. The once-mighty ruler opened his mouth, but no words came out, as if the finality of the situation had stolen his ability to speak. He looked up at Dunk, perhaps seeing something in his eyes — something that had never been there before. A new leader, yes, but one who would not be swayed by fear or charm.

Dunk’s hand moved to motion toward the soldiers around him, his voice now carrying the weight of the kingdom’s future. “Take him away.”

The soldiers moved quickly, seizing the Wizard with the cold precision of those who had waited for this moment. The Wizard, once so sure of his power, was dragged away, his feet stumbling as he was escorted toward his prison. Dunk stood still, watching him go, his heart pounding in his chest. The Wizard’s empire of lies was crumbling, and it felt like the final chapter of a dark history closing forever.

As the Wizard disappeared from view, Dunk remained where he was, staring after him. His eyes were distant, as though searching for something that wasn’t there. The courtyard had grown silent once more, but the stillness felt different. It was no longer a silence of oppression, but of release — a quiet space before the storm of change swept across Oz.

The kingdom would rebuild, Dunk knew that. But it would be different. Everything would be different now. The lies had been shattered, the manipulations exposed. But as the last remnants of Morrible’s influence were swept away, Dunk couldn’t help but feel the weight of the uncertainty ahead.

He wasn’t just a soldier anymore. He wasn’t just a man swept up in events that were beyond his control. He was the one who had to lead this broken kingdom, to heal it, to rebuild it.

But how? And more importantly, who was he now that everything had changed?

He thought of Joong, who had chosen a different path, the one who had encouraged him to step forward, to take this mantle. Dunk felt that familiar ache in his chest, a reminder of the person who had stood beside him — a person who would never return. And as much as Dunk wanted to go back, to find Joong, he knew there was no turning back now.

He had to face the future. For good.

With a heavy exhale, Dunk turned away from the courtyard. The sound of his boots clicking against the stone floor echoed in the silence, a reminder that, even in the stillness, something had been set in motion. Dunk knew that the task before him was far from over. But as he walked through the gates of the palace, the first rays of dawn cutting through the sky, he felt the weight of the kingdom’s future shift slightly in his favor.

This was his time. He would rebuild Oz, not as a puppet, but as a ruler. And, for the first time, it felt like a future worth fighting for.

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The grand throne room of the Emerald City was eerily silent, the air thick with the lingering weight of what had just transpired. Dunk stood alone, the once-glorious chamber now seemingly abandoned, save for the distant echoes of soldiers moving in the halls. His boots clicked softly on the marble floor as he walked slowly toward the throne, each step heavier than the last. His hand brushed the back of the chair, but he didn’t sit yet.

Outside, the sky was painted with the first light of dawn, the darkness of Morrible’s reign finally receding, but there was still a kind of solemn quiet in the kingdom. It was the quiet after the storm — a moment before everything would change.

Dunk turned to look at the vast windows, the city sprawling beneath him, the city that had once been a beacon of hope, now broken and scarred. He could see soldiers standing watch, and the new faces of those who had once followed Morrible, now uncertain, lost without their leader.

But no longer was he just a soldier. He wasn’t just Dunk, the one who followed orders, the one who had been manipulated into believing lies. Now, he was the one who would have to rebuild, the one to heal what had been shattered.

But something felt… incomplete.

He felt a familiar, hollow ache in his chest, the absence of Joong, whose presence had been both a reminder and a guide throughout this journey. Dunk hadn’t realized how deeply Joong had become entwined in his heart, not just as an ally but as someone who had truly changed him. Changed his perspective, his purpose. Without Joong, the task before him seemed even more daunting. More isolating.

The heavy wooden doors creaked open, breaking Dunk from his thoughts. He turned, expecting one of the soldiers, but instead, it was Joong. The very person Dunk had been thinking of. His figure stood at the threshold, the light from the dawn stretching around him, his features soft but weary. He hadn’t changed much — still that calm, grounded presence.

For a moment, Dunk could only stare at him, a mix of emotions flooding his chest. There was gratitude, sorrow, and something that felt like finality.

Joong took a step into the room, his gaze searching Dunk’s face. “You’re alone,” he said softly, his voice low, full of understanding.

“I’m not,” Dunk replied, but the words came out hollow. He stepped away from the throne, his fingers still brushing its cold surface. “I don’t know what to do now, Joong. Everything feels…” He trailed off, unsure of how to express the weight that bore down on him. “Everything’s changed. And I don’t know if I’m ready for it. I can’t do it alone.”

Joong’s eyes softened, and he walked slowly toward Dunk. His steps were measured, careful, as though he were considering his words. “You don’t have to do it alone, Dunk. You never did.”

Dunk swallowed hard, the weight of the past few days pushing against him. “But I do,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve been with me through all of this. You were the one who believed in me when I didn’t. You helped me see what Morrible and the Wizard were doing. You helped me find the truth.” He paused, his throat tight. “And now you’re telling me to go back to a kingdom that’s in ruins, to rule it, to rebuild it…”

Joong stepped closer, a quiet resolve settling in his voice. “You can rebuild it, Dunk. But that’s the thing. This isn’t just about ruling. It’s about fixing the broken pieces, not for Oz, but for you. This is your chance to lead, not as a puppet, but as yourself.”

Dunk shook his head, the uncertainty clouding his thoughts. “I want to, but…” He paused, the words seeming stuck in his throat. “I need you, Joong. I need you to help me. We were always better together.”

Joong’s expression shifted, and he reached out, placing a hand on Dunk’s shoulder. “I know you do. I know you think you do. But I can’t be that person for you anymore. I can’t go back to Oz. It’s not my place anymore.”

The words hit Dunk like a blow, his chest tightening. “Why? Why can’t you come with me? Why can’t we do this together?” His voice was raw with frustration, the sting of rejection sharper than he expected.

Joong exhaled slowly, his gaze steady. “Because I’ve already left Oz, Dunk. I’ve moved past it. I’ve learned that the past can’t always define our future.” He looked away, his voice softening. “I’m not the person I was when I was in Oz. I’m beyond that. And I don’t want to go back.”

Dunk’s heart ached at the distance in Joong’s words. He wanted to argue, to convince him that they could fix it all, together. But deep down, he knew Joong was right. They were on different paths now, paths that had diverged in ways he couldn’t fully understand.

Joong turned back to him, his gaze calm but filled with unspoken emotion. “You don’t need me anymore, Dunk. You never did. You’ve always had it in you. You just needed to believe it.”

Dunk’s eyes met Joong’s, searching for something — an answer, a sign, anything. He found none. Only the truth of Joong’s words. It hit him with a quiet certainty, settling in the pit of his stomach.

“I don’t want to do this alone,” Dunk whispered, his voice cracking.

Joong’s hand tightened on his shoulder, offering strength. “You don’t have to be alone. Not anymore. Oz needs you, Dunk. But you need to want it. You need to lead it, not because you have to, but because you believe in it.”

Dunk looked at Joong one last time, his heart heavy with a mixture of gratitude and grief. “I’ll do it for both of us,” he said, his voice firm.

Joong gave him a small, bittersweet smile. “I know you will. I’ll be somewhere out there, Dunk. You won’t be alone. Not in spirit.”

Dunk stared at Joong in silence, who stood in the fading light, his figure cast in shadow yet glowing with an inner peace. This was it. This was the final step of their shared journey.

“Will I ever see you again?” Dunk asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

Joong’s gaze softened, and he gave a small nod. “I don’t know. But maybe that’s not what matters. Maybe it’s just about knowing that we’ll always carry each other with us. For good.”

Dunk felt the weight of those words, felt them echo deep inside his chest. The world was never going to be the same. Joong was leaving, but Dunk wasn’t truly losing him. He would always carry Joong with him, in the choices he made, in the kingdom he would build. He would carry Joong’s memory, his lessons, and his heart. And that was enough.

Joong turned and walked toward the horizon, his figure growing smaller, but Dunk didn’t move to stop him. He couldn’t. He had to let go. For Joong. For himself. For Oz.

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Years had passed since the fall of Morrible and the Wizard, and Oz was no longer a kingdom haunted by lies and shadows. The once-dying streets were now alive with vibrant colors, bustling markets, and laughter that echoed through the air like a promise of better days. The oppressive darkness that had once gripped the land had been replaced by a warm, golden light that touched every corner of the kingdom. It was a kingdom reborn, a kingdom that now thrived on compassion, trust, and the very ideals that Morrible had tried so hard to suppress.

Dunk stood at the balcony of the grand palace, overlooking the city of Oz. His eyes scanned the busy streets below, where citizens of all walks of life moved freely, their faces no longer clouded with fear or uncertainty. The city, once broken and scarred, now flourished with a new hope — hope that had been cultivated by his leadership, but more importantly, by the collective spirit of the people. They were no longer ruled by deception, but guided by the truth. Dunk had ensured that every decision he made was rooted in fairness and kindness, just as Joong had always believed he could.

In the halls of the palace, there was an air of peace. No longer was Dunk surrounded by the constant whisper of lies and manipulation. Instead, his advisors were those who genuinely cared for the well-being of Oz’s citizens. He had rebuilt the kingdom from the ground up, using the values that Joong had instilled in him: that true leadership came from understanding, empathy, and the willingness to fight for what was right, no matter the cost. Dunk was no longer a soldier following orders — he was the ruler Oz had always needed.

Despite the joy that filled his heart each day, there was still a part of him that felt incomplete. Every day, Dunk walked through the halls of the palace, feeling the echoes of Joong’s words, his unwavering belief in him, and the void left by his absence. Dunk had led Oz to greatness, but in doing so, he had also learned that greatness meant walking alone — not in solitude, but in a space where one's heart, though full, always held a longing. A longing that never quite faded.

One quiet evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Dunk stood at his favorite spot in the palace, looking out over the kingdom he had saved. The golden light of the setting sun painted the city in hues of pink, orange, and lavender, the peaceful tranquility of the moment a stark contrast to the turmoil that had once plagued the land.

He didn’t hear the footsteps at first, but he felt the presence. It was the quiet, steady presence he had come to know all too well. Dunk’s breath caught in his throat when he finally looked down from the window.

There, standing in the square beneath the palace, was Joong. It was him. Dunk could see it in the way Joong stood, in the calm certainty that radiated from his figure. He was smiling, a soft, knowing smile that spoke of understanding, of acceptance, of time passed and yet unchanged.

Joong was no longer a part of Dunk's world in the way he once had been. He had walked his own path, a journey that had taken him far from Oz. But somehow, in that moment, Joong was still there — still a part of Dunk’s life, even if from afar.

Dunk stood frozen, his hand resting against the windowpane. His heart felt a strange ache, a sweet sadness, as he watched Joong. There were no words between them, no need for them. The distance that lay between them now was something they both accepted — the kingdom that Dunk had rebuilt, the life that Joong had chosen. Yet in that moment, their bond remained unspoken but palpable.

Dunk’s lips trembled into a small, bittersweet smile. He wasn’t sure if Joong could see him standing there, but it didn’t matter. Their connection transcended distance. And in that look, in that smile, Dunk knew Joong was proud of him. He had always believed in him. And Dunk, for all his strength and the kingdom he had restored, would always carry Joong’s faith in his heart.

Dunk leaned forward against the windowsill, his eyes never leaving Joong’s figure below. He watched as Joong gave him a subtle nod, the smile never fading. Dunk’s chest tightened, the emotions too big for him to hold. He raised a hand to the glass, pressing his palm against it as though trying to reach across the divide. His fingers splayed, tracing the cold surface of the window. It felt like an unspoken farewell — a moment of closure and acceptance.

Joong mouthed something from below, his lips forming words that Dunk could easily read: “You’re doing great.”

Dunk’s eyes filled with unshed tears as he nodded slowly, mouthing back the only words he could: “Thank you.”

For a long moment, the world around them seemed to pause, the only sound the soft rustle of the wind. Dunk stood there, watching Joong as the man slowly turned, fading into the shadows of the city streets. And though Dunk knew they would never walk the same path again, there was peace in that moment. Peace in knowing that Joong had given him the final encouragement he needed — that he would not walk alone, no matter the distance.

Dunk took a deep breath, finally letting the weight of the past, the weight of his responsibilities, settle into his bones. His kingdom, his life, his future — they were his now to shape.

For good.

The halls of the palace opened before him — not cold, not imposing, but welcoming, familiar. As Dunk walked through, he passed the portraits of rulers past, the crests of old legacies, the banners of battles long finished. Yet none of those stories bound him. His story — their story — was new.

Outside, Oz thrived. Children laughed under the lanterns; bakers and merchants prepared for the next market day; healers tended to the old and the sick; scholars gathered to write the new history of a kingdom no longer ruled by lies. Dunk’s people — his people — were building a future with compassion, courage, and truth.

For good, Dunk knew, they were all part of that future. And though Joong was not beside him, Dunk felt him there all the same, woven into the fabric of every decision, every hope, every quiet triumph.

With a steady breath, Dunk stepped out into the courtyard, where his advisors waited, where his people called. His heart was full — not without ache, but with purpose.

The past was behind. The future was his to shape.

For good, he thought to himself, smiling softly, this is the kingdom we built.

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