Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The morning sun spilled lazily through the sheer curtains, lighting up the sleek apartment the Huntrix girls called home. Gold records and magazine covers lined the walls — a shrine to their success.
A TV blared across the open-plan lounge, where half-eaten toast and coffee cups cluttered the table. Mira sat cross-legged on the couch; her long pink hair twisted into a messy bun as she scrolled on her phone.

“—and in today’s entertainment news,” the anchor’s voice chirped through the speakers, “Huntrix’s newest single Flames continues to dominate the global charts for the fourth consecutive week! Fans around the world are dubbing it the anthem of the year—”

Mira grinned faintly. “Told you it would hit number one again,” she said, tapping her screen.

Rumi smirked from the other end of the couch, only half-listening to the report. She brushed back a stray lock of hair, before flipping to the next page of book, bare feet tucked beneath her.

“Can we not watch ourselves first thing in the morning?” Zoey mumbled, still half-asleep, as she walked in from the kitchen, taking a seat between the girls on the couch. Her unbrushed hair hung loosely on her shoulders as she spooned sugary cereal into her mouth.

Mira rolled her eyes. “You’re just grumpy because we have rehearsal again tonight.”

“Please,” Zoey said with fake offence, “some of us actually like sleeping.”

Rumi exhaled softly, comforted by their usual bickering.

“—and in other entertainment headlines,” the anchor continued, his tone shifting to something more serious. “It’s been three months since the mysterious disappearance of the Saja Boys following the Idol Awards. Despite extensive investigations, no trace of the group has been found.”

The words hung in the air like static. Zoey’s spoon froze halfway to her lips.

“Authorities continue to treat the case as an open investigation,” the anchor went on. “Fans have flooded social media today with messages using the hashtag #RememberSaja, commemorating the lost idols who—”

“Okay, that’s enough morning news,” Mira interrupted sharply, grabbing the remote and switching the TV off. The screen went black. Silence filled the room.

Rumi’s eyes stayed on the reflection of her own face in the dark glass.

“You didn’t have to turn it off,” she said quietly.

“Yes, I did.” Mira tossed the remote aside and leaned back. “We don’t need to see that.”

“It’s been months,” Rumi murmured, lowering her eyes, again. “People still care.”

“They were demons, Ru,” Mira turned to face Rumi, eyebrows pinching. “We all saw what they did. What they tried to do.”
Zoey rubbed her temples, as she sat between the two girls. “Can we not do this again?”

But Rumi was already lost in memory. She could still see Jinu standing between her and certain death. The way his eyes had softened just before disintegrating into nothing.

She swallowed hard. “He saved us,” she said.

“After nearly stealing the souls of the entire human population,” Mira snapped, crossing her arms. “Or did you forget that part?”

“Of course I didn’t,” Rumi said defensively, eyes shooting up to meet hers. Her voice trembled, but she didn’t look away. “I just can’t pretend like it didn’t mean something — all of it. They weren’t just—”

“Monsters?” Zoey cut in. Both girls break eye contact as they turn to face their youngest member. “They were human once too…”

Her tone was sharp, but her hands trembled as she placed the bowl aside. Rumi noticed — she always noticed. Zoey still had nightmares; she just never talked about them. The others would sometimes hear her crying through the walls, muffled by a pillow.

“We don’t know that!” Mira stood up, clearly done with the conversation. “We’re hunters, they were demons. We did our job. Why waste any more energy on those bastard”

“You’ve really moved on that easily?” Rumi asked, eyes flicking up to her.

Mira hesitated — a fraction too long before replying. “I just don’t waste time feeling sorry for demons who were hell bent on destroying us.”

Rumi opened her mouth, then closed it again. There was no point arguing. Mira was made of stone when she wanted to be.
Rumi quickly stood, disappearing into her room without another word.

Zoey sat silently, her eyes fixated on a spot on the floor as she fidgeted with her hands. Her cereal now forgotten, turning soggy in the milk.

Mira sighed, guilt flickering briefly across her face, before storming toward her own room. She paused briefly at Rumi’s door, lifting a hand to knock. However, she quickly dropped it back to her side. “Don’t do this to yourself, Ru. You can’t bring him back.” She whispered to the door, before continuing her walk to her room.

 

-------------------------------------------------------

 

Rumi rested her head on the other side of the door, staring at the ceiling as Mira spoke.

She closed her eyes as the memories returned to her. The way he’d looked at her that night —with hopeful eyes and a pained smile, even as everything around them fell apart.
A single tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly.
From the hallway, the faint sound of footsteps could be heard past her door — Zoey’s. A quiet sob, stifled.

Rumi hesitantly made her way over to her bed and under the covers.
Reaching into her pocket, Rumi pulled out her phone and opened the trending page. The hashtag was still climbing. #RememberSaja. She scrolled past thousands of posts — fan edits, theories, candle emojis. Her heart ached in her chest as she took a shaky breath.

'Maybe I should get some sleep'. She thought to herself, clicking her phone off before placing it to her night stand. Rolling onto her side, Rumi squeezed her eyes closed, trying to push away the lingering thoughts as she drifted off to sleep.

 

-------------------------------------------------------

A desperate cry tore through the halls as Rumi shot upright in bed. Her eyes darted wildly around the room as it blurred in and out of focus, the nightmare still clawing at the edges of her mind. Her ears rang, each breath feeling sharp and uneven, as if she couldn't draw in enough air.

The door slammed open as Mira rushed in with Zoey right behind her, both wearing the same look of concern. Mira reached her first, wrapping her arms around Rumi without hesitation, while Zoey pressed close against her other side.

“Rumi! Hey—hey, breathe. You’re okay,” Mira whispered, brushing damp strands from Rumi’s forehead with gentle fingers.

Rumi struggled to catch her breath, tears streaming down her cheeks as her fingers clutched the soft fabric of her hood. The warmth of their touch slowly grounding her.

She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling shakily. The nightmares always ended the same: Jinu’s voice, soft and broken, fading into nothing. She had only known him for a few months, yet the bond they formed ran deeper that words could ever capture. He had seen her, truly seen her, in a way no one else ever had. He didn’t look away at the patterns on her skin the way Celine had. He didn’t force her to hide for the sake of others. Jinu accepted her, understood her. He knew better than anyone what it was like to be judged for the blood flowing in his veins.

But now he, along with the rest of the Saja Boys, were gone. With their biggest competition out of the way, Huntrix easily reclaimed their top spot. Rumi knew she should be happy about their success, proud even. But instead, all she felt was hollow.

“Are you okay?” Zoey asked softly from her side, face full of worry.

Rumi forced a small, unconvincing smile. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Zoey’s lips pressed together. She didn’t believe her but could say nothing.

Silence stretched between the three, broken only by Rumi’s uneven breaths.

“Rumi?” Mira’s voice was quiet but steady as she looked to her distressed friend.

“I-…” she hesitated, gaze dropping. “I’m sorry about this morning.”

Rumi blinked, turning to her. “What?”

Mira, exhaled, running a hand through her long pink hair. Apologising didn’t come easy for the groups protector.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I thought ignoring it would help you move on..” Mira looked blankly at the floor, her hand bawling into a fist as she pulled away slightly.

Rumi’s gaze softened. “You were trying to protect me.”

“But it’s still affecting you.” Mira’s brows furrowed as she faced Rumi again. “After everything…” she looked away. “It wasn’t fair of me to push you to bury your feelings again.”

Her voice softened. “Whether I like it or not… Jinu meant a lot to you.”
Mira brought her eyes to meet Rumi’s gaze again. “You should be allowed to grieve.”

Rumi could see tears beginning to form in the corner of her friends eyes. She reached to grip Mira’s hands. She held tightly as Mira spoke. “I just hate to see you like this”

Rumi gave a weak smile, voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

The three girls sat again in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Although the others wouldn’t admit it, Rumi knew both her friends were still haunted by the Saja Boys in their own ways.

Mira, as always, wore her armour well. But Rumi could see the cracks forming. She’d built her whole identity around being strong, unshakable. But doubt had begun to seep in - questions about the demons, their purpose as hunters, everything they’d been told by Celine.

After hearing Jinu’s story, how he had once been a man, a poor, desperate man that wanted nothing more than to live and save his family—Mira had faltered.

Zoey’s pain was quiet, tinged with longing that even she couldn’t describe. She had fallen for the soft spoken Saja Boy, despite only seeing his face in his final moments. She often wondered if things could have been different between them. Maybe if she was given the chance to understand him, things could have ended differently for them all.

Rumi’s truth only made it worse. The secret she had carried since childhood. Her mother had fallen in love with a demon. And that same love had destroyed them both.

It shattered everything they had ever sworn to believe. If her mother, an oath-bound Sunlight Sister had seen goodness in a demon’s heart and chosen love instead of hate… then what did that mean?
What had they been fighting for?

Maybe demons weren’t born evil. Maybe there was still light buried in the darkness. And if that light could be found… maybe they could reclaim their souls.
Like Jinu had.

Zoey sniffled softly beside her “I keep thinking about him…” None of them said his name. They didn’t need to. “About how he looked at the end…” Her voice trembled, eyes falling to the floor. “After what happened to Jinu… He looked… scared.” Her hands twisted in her lap, as she relived the moment. Squeezing her eyes shut, she continued. “Maybe the others didn’t want this either.”

Mira frowned, arms crossing tightly against her chest. “It doesn't matter whether they wanted serve Gwi-ma or not. They still lied, manipulated everyone. Not to mentioned tried to take over the world and steal all our souls” She stopped, inhaling deeply.

Before either girl could argue, a quite rattle pulled their attention. Their eyes immediately turned to the glass balcony door to find a small black blob staring intently back at them. Zoey drew in a sharp breath, grabbing Rumi's arm tighter. “What is that?”

Rumi’s eyes widened. “No way...” she said in disbelief.

She pulled herself away from the pile of limbs they had formed, feeling the cold floor against her footsteps as she hurried to the door and pushing it open with ease. Zoey squealed, ducking quickly as the bird flapped over her head, landing on the desk behind her.
A low rumble followed – deep and rhythmic. From the shadows, a large feline stalked into the room. Blue fur gleaming faintly under the silver light of the moon.

Zoey screamed again, nearly face planting as she jumped quickly away from the bed. “Is that– Is that a demon?! A Tiger? A- a demon tiger??” She fumbled over words.

Mira called her weapon instantly, jumping to a defence position. “Rumi! What the hell!?”

“Wait, it's ok." She urged, raising a hand to relax Mira. "They’re not dangerous.”

Derpy padded towards her, rubbing his head softly against Rumi's leg. She sank to her knees, fingers sinking into the tiger’s soft fur.

Zoey blinked, her gaze softening as she watched the creature. “Aww he’s so cute!” She smiled, quickly approaching the tiger. Her hands reaching out to pat his fur. “And so soft too!” Derpy rumbled softly, leaning into her touch as Zoey pressed her face into his side.

Mira stayed tense, eyes darting between the magpie and tiger. “Why are they here, Rumi?” She demanded, her weapon fading into the Honmoon as she spoke.

Before Rumi could answer, Sussie gave a sharp squawk and fluttered to her usual perch atop Derpy’s head. At this, the tiger let out a low rumble, sitting up and opening his massive jaw.

Something glistened on his tongue. A small, soaked card, covered in tiger drool.

Zoey recoiled instantly “Ew- gross!”

Mira grimaced, taking an involuntary step back. “Why is that in his mouth?!”

Rumi had gone still. Her eyes widened as she recognised the faded cover.

Hello Friend

Her breath caught. A shiver ran down her spine as memories flooded back.
She swallowed hard, shaking her head as she stepped closer.

“Rumi don’t-“ Mira started, face cringing as Rumi gently reached for the slobbery envelope. The paper was soft against her shaking hands as she held it, wiping the saliva off of her sleeve.

Slowly, she unfolded the note, breath caught in her throat. The handwriting – neat, deliberate, unmistakably his. Her heart clenched.

“Why are you giving me this?” She whispered, voice cracking as she looked up at the tiger. Derpy only blinked, tail flicking slowly. Sussie’s eyes gleamed as if urging her to understand something she couldn’t yet see.

Mira approached her side, cautiously. “Rumi, what is it?”

Rumi turned the card towards them, her voice soft but shaking. “This is the first letter Jinu gave me. When he invited me to meet for the first time.”

Mira and Zoey shared a glance, mixed with confusion and concern.

Rumi’s voice was quiet as she spoke. “I don’t understand… why are you bringing this to me? Why now?”

Derpy let out a low, almost mournful growl, nudging her hand with his massive head. Sussie narrowed her eyes towards the girls with an almost human intensity.

The room fell silent again, as the girls thought.

Zoey whispered, “Are they- are you trying to tell us something?” She looked towards the creatures, hoping for an answer.

Rumi stared at the letter in her hand – the edges damp. Her pulse quickened.

“You’re here because of him. Right?” She spoke finally.

Derpy lifted his head, eyes glowing in the dim light. Behind him, the curtains swayed from the breeze. The tiger looked to her, almost encouragingly.

“Zoey, I think you're right. They’re trying to show us something. Something important”

Mira and Zoey exchanged uneasy looks, before the magpie let out another squawk.

“The letter is Jinu asking me to meet him.” Rumi’s voice trembled as she stared down at the paper. “But I can’t do that… he’s gone.”

Derpy gave a low growl and nudged her again, harder this time, as if to insist she was wrong.

“Are you-“ Rumi’s voice caught in her throat. “Are you trying to tell me he’s still out there? He's alive?!”

At that, Sussie suddenly fluttered across the room, landing on the edge of Rumi’s desk. She began tugging furiously at something inside the nearby trash bin. Papers flew, and Mira jumped back.

“What the- hey!”

With a sharp cry, Sussie dragged out a crumpled, half-torn poster.

“Is that..?” Zoey blinked.

“The Saja Boys?” Mira finished, her voice uncertain.

Rumi’s breath hitched. “The Saja Boys? Are they…” She hesitated. “They’re all alive? Is that it?” She turned to the magpie. Sussie tilted her head once, blinking.

“You want us to find them don’t you?” Rumi breathed, eyes widening slightly as she started piecing the puzzle together. To this, the magpie let out a small squawk.

“Why?” Mira pressed, stepping forward. “Why bring this now?”

Derpy’s chest rumbled with a low, mournful growl. His tail flicked across the floor, gaze meeting Rumi’s again – desperate, pleading.

Rumi felt it deep in her chest before speaking “Are they in trouble?”

The tiger let out a soft whine, lowering his head.

“That’s it, isn’t it,” Zoey spoke with more energy, her tone shifting from disbelief to realisation. “The Saja Boys are alive, and in trouble?”

Rumi swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. Beside her, Mira frowned, crossing her arms. “Ok, hold on. How do even know they’re telling the truth?” Her eyes narrowed. “In case you forgot, we finished those boys off ourselves. How could they possibly still be alive.”

Zoey cringed slightly at the reminder of what they had done. She bit her lip as she looked down to the floor.

As if understanding Mira’s request for proof, Derpy opened his mouth again. This time a small bracelet slipped from his tongue. One Rumi recognised all too well.

“How does he do that?” Zoey looked on fascinated as Mira grimaced once again from the huge amount of slobber.

“They’re telling the truth.” Rumi says simply as she reaches to grasp the woven bracelet.

“Even if they are, why would we go after them?! We don’t owe them anything!” Mira called out, brows furrowing as she looked between her friends. “They’re still demons who deserve to be suffering-” She cut herself off when she saw Rumi flinch. “I mean... We- we don’t even know where to start looking. ” Mira crossed her arms over her body again, looking cautiously at the large feline.

Before anyone could respond, the ground beneath Derpy began to glow – a familiar feeling as the Honmoon flared to life.

“Wait- what’s happening?” Zoey gasped as she jumped to her feet. Retreating from the tiger.

Derpy looked up at Rumi one last time before his form began sinking into the light. Sussie let out a squawk before returning atop Derpy’s head. Both creatures, vanishing in a shimmer.

“Did they just- leave? Were we suppose to follow them?” Zoey asked, raising an eyebrow, as she stood frozen in place.

Rumi darted towards the balcony. The cold air hit her face as she looked down to the street below. She smiled slightly as she saw the pair reappeared across the street, waiting, watching. The Honmoon pulsed faintly beneath the tiger’s feet

“It's ok, look.” Rumi whispered. “They’re leading the way!”

Zoey appeared next to Rumi, looking down at the demonic creatures with curiosity.

Mira grunted, appearing on her other side. “You cam't seriously be considering this, can you? We can’t just drop everything and follow a magic tiger to go help our sworn enemies who shouldn’t even be alive in the first place.”

Rumi turned, eyes filled with determination. “If they’re truly in trouble and need help, then I’m going.”

Zoey blinked, stunned by the certainty in her tone. “Well, if you’re going, then I’m going too!” She placed her hands on her hips, her lips forming a large grin as she returned the determined gaze.

Mira groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose as the other girls turned to face her. “You two are insane.”

Rumi chuckled, softened her gaze slightly. “Maybe. But I can’t ignore this. Not if there’s even a small chance that he’s alive.”

Mira hesitated before letting out a sigh. “Fine. But there’s no way I’m letting you two go by yourselves.” Her lips curved into a smirk as she conjured her weapon once again. “I’m in.”

The three girls shared a determined look. Rumi could feel her heart pounding. For the first time in months, she felt hope.

“Let’s do this, then.” She smirked, reaching her hand out in the middle of the girls. Zoey could barely hold back her energy as she placed her hand atop of Rumi’s, glancing quickly to Mira.

The pink haired hunter rolled her eyes, before adding her hand to the pile “Together.”

For a moment, the room was still, united purpose hanging heavy in the air. As their hands fell away, Zoey glanced down at her turtle pyjama pants, letting out a slight chuckle.

“...We should probably change first. Right?”

Rumi blinked at her own pyjamas before as letting out a quiet laugh. Even Mira cracked a smile.
Their laughter lingered in the air – a small, fleeting warmth before the darkness that waited just beyond the horizon.

Chapter Text

Seoul at night shimmered above them, the skyline painted in gold and violet light. The streets were mostly quiet, save for the occasional car and the hum of the city that never truly slept.

The three girls moved quickly behind the massive blue tiger. Derpy’s paws padded silently down the narrow alleyway, Sussie perched atop his head.

Rumi pulled her hood tighter, out of habit. Though, being sighted seemed like the least of their concerns compared to the demonic creatures they followed.

“This has to be joke! How far does this tiger expect us to follow him?” Mira muttered, tugging at her hood. “Because this feels like the start of every bad decision ever.”

Zoey shot her a look. “Come on. He’s a cutie! Besides, I’m sure he knows where he’s going.”

Rumi barely heard them. Her fingers mindlessly toyed with the woven bracelet around her wrist. The further she followed the tiger, the heavier the feeling of déjà vu became.

“Where are you taking us, Derpy?” she finally asked.

The tiger didn’t answer — just turned a corner into a familiar street. Rumi froze. Her pulse quickened. The faint light from a streetlamp reflected in Derpy’s eyes as he turned to glance back at her.

She knew this place.

The others caught up behind her, slowing when they noticed her expression.

“I don’t want to question the magical blue tiger or anything…” Zoey began, looking around. “But why are we all the way out here? I don’t see any demons.”

“This… is where I first met him,” Rumi shared, voice barely above a whisper.

The girls both turned to look at her. Rumi’s gaze drifted up towards the rooftop – the very same one she’d once stood with him on. Mira followed her line of sight, brow arching slightly.

Silence fell an over them as they took in their surroundings. Rumi’s thumb once again brushed the bracelet. The last time she was here, she’d been burning with anger, determined to destroy the very man who would end up changing her entire perspective.

Growing impatient, Mira turned to the large creature. “So, what, you brought us all the way here for a trip down memory lane?”

Derpy blinked in response before continuing forward towards a familiar statue. Sitting at its base, he wrapped his tail neatly around his paws.

“Derpy?” Rumi frowned.

A breeze passed through the street as the statue began to glow. A faint, pulsing light rippled through the Honmoon. Derpy gave one low growl before leaping throw the rift, Sussie still perched on his head.

The girls looked on cautiously.

“Don’t tell me we’re supposed to follow him in there…” Zoey breathed, stepping back. She turned to face Rumi for an answer.

Mira immediately threw up her hands. “Absolutely not. There’s no way I’m following a demonic tiger into a rip that probably leads straight to the demon realm!”

“Mira—” Rumi started.

“Nope! If we go through there, we’re probably land right in front of the Gwi-ma and be roasted alive! I knew this was a trap. I should’ve just trusted my gut!”

Zoey bit her lip. “Yeah… I don’t know about this. Demons would stop at nothing to get rid of us.”

“Exactly!” Mira nodded along. “The Saja Boys are not worth dying for! I don’t trust that tiger.”

Rumi’s gaze remained firmly on the glowing portal. “What if it really does lead us to the boys?” She stepped forward, slight fear knotting in her stomach. “If there’s even a chance…”

Mira groaned. “Oh god, you’re actually considering this?”

Rumi didn’t answer. She took one final look towards the city, then down at the woven yarn tied on her wrist. Taking a deep breath, she took another step towards the portal. The Honmoon shimmered in response. She hesitated only a moment before reaching out.

“Rumi... are you sure about this?” Zoey asked cautiously, eyebrows furrowed slightly with caution. Beside her, Mira shared a similar expression, biting her lip.

Rumi looked to her friends and gave a small nod, a flicker of determination in her eyes.

All of a sudden, the Honmoon began humming. Before should pull back, Rumi was pulled through the ripple.

“Rumi!” Zoey cried out, rushing forward. “Come on! We got to follow her.” She turned to Mira, grabbing her hand.

Mira groaned, trying to mask her fear. “Fine! But when we get eaten by demons, I’m haunting all of you!”

And with that, they leapt through.

 

----------------------------------------------------------

 

Light folded in on itself as the world twisted.

Rumi gasped as she stumbled onto uneven ground, coughing as a thick mist filled her lungs. The air was cold-damp, almost suffocating. The sky above was a deep purple-grey, thick clouds rolling endlessly with no hint of sunlight.

The others crashed beside her in a heap. Zoey landing face-first into the earth with Mira stumbling on top of her.

“Ugh! That was awful!” Zoey yelled, spitting out a leaf.

Mira stood, helping Zoey to her feet as her eyes darted around. The Demon Realm stretched before them – an endless wasteland cloaked in fog, jagged spires rising like bones from the ground.

Derpy stood calmly a few metres ahead, tail flicking as if nothing were wrong. Sussie perched on a gnarled tree branch above him.

Zoey shivered slightly as she wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s so cold…”

Mira turned to glare at the tiger. “I can’t believe you really brought us to hell! We need to get out of here before a demon spots us.” She looked around cautiously, ready to summon her weapon if needed. “Send us back right now!”

Derpy blinked at her, unbothered.

“I mean it!” Mira shouted, waving her arms. “Open your stupid portal!”

“They’re not listening,” Rumi said quietly.

“Oh, perfect! So we’re trapped then!” Mira groaned, pacing in frustration.

Zoey sighed. “Mira, yelling at the giant tiger probably isn’t helping.”

“Well, it’s helping me!”

Rumi ignored them both, staring into the horizon. The wasteland stretched endlessly, shadows shifting as if they were alive. “We can’t just stand here. We need a plan.”

Zoey nodded. “Well the tiger brought us this far. Maybe he can lead us the rest of the way.”
At this, Derpy perked up and began walking again, his form fading into the fog.

 

----------------------------------------------------------

 

They walked for what felt like hours. There appeared to be no concept of time down here. The only sounds were their footsteps crunching over brittle earth and the faint crackle of unseen energy in the air. Every so often, something would shift in the darkness, but Derpy kept moving, unbothered.

Zoey was the first to break the silence. “Why haven’t we seen any demons yet?”

Rumi continued glancing cautiously at her surroundings, keeping her voice low. “I don’t know. Stay on guard.”

Mira tightened her grip on her weapon, her jaw set.

 

Suddenly, Derpy stopped, ears twitching.

Rumi froze. “What is it?”

He bent low, sniffing the ground. With one paw, he brushed away the ash and dirt. The girls gathered around him, remaining tense.

Rumi knelt beside him, her breath catching as a flash of yellow peeked through the dust. Brushing away the remaining dirt, Rumi finally saw it.

 

A knitted beanie. The colour faded but unmistakable.

 

She reached out and lifted the object gently.

“...No way,” Zoey whispered, crouching beside Rumi. “That looks like-”

“Abby’s,” Mira finished, her tone firm.

Rumi’s nose crinkled as the smell of ash and grime filled her nostrils.

Derpy tail twitched as he watched her.

Rumi rose, clutching the beanie to her chest. “They’re here,” she said firmly. “They’re really here.”

Derpy let out a low, approving rumble.

“Abby… is he close?” Zoey took a stepping forward hopefully.

The feline rose and began walking again into the mist.

Zoey raised a brow. “Is that a yes?”

Rumi tucked the beanie safely into her jacket in response. She took one final look at the endless dark horizon.

“Come on,” she spoke. “Let’s go find out.”

Chapter Text

Zoey’s footsteps dragged, crunching against the ashen ground as she trailed behind the group. “How much further do we have to walk?” she muttered, voice cracking slightly as her stomach growled “I’m starving.”

Rumi eyes remained fixed on the blue tiger padding calmly ahead. “I don’t know,” she said at last, exhaustion evident in her own voice. “But we have to be getting closer.”

Mira tugged her jacket tighter. “To what? Frostbite? Because that’s the only thing I can feel right now.”

Zoey let out a groan before collapsing to the ground. “I can’t take it anymore. You guys go on without me!”

Rumi exhaled slowly, allowing herself a small smile at her friends’ dramatics. “Alright, fine. Let’s rest for a bit. But stay alert.”

Derpy stopped, settling beside a large rock formation. Sussie, still perched on his head, stretched her wings before hopping down onto a flat surface nearby.

The girls sank down beside one another, unpacking small canisters of water and a few snacks from their bags. Zoey passed a wrapped rice ball to Rumi, who accepted it but didn’t eat. Her eyes were still scanning the horizon, wary.

“Hey,” Zoey said softly. “You need to eat too.”

Rumi blinked, then gave a small nod. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

Mira snorted. “Thinking about how insane this all is?” she asked between bites. “Because same. We literally followed a demon tiger into hell, and now we’re camping in it like it’s a school field trip.”

Zoey smirked. “You’re not helping.”

“What? I’m just saying what we’re all thinking.”

Rumi sighed, absently rubbing the bracelet on her wrist. “We shouldn’t stop for too long,” she said quietly. “I don’t think this place really sleeps.”

Zoey let out an exacerbated sigh as she stretched her arms above her head. “I’d like to sleep. Wake me when find civilisation.”

Mira rolled her eyes as she took a final sip of water before rising to her feet. “Come on. Rumi’s right. We can’t stay in one place too long.” She reached a hand out to Zoey, who pouted in response.

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

As they continued forward, the mist ahead seemed to become denser. Rumi frowned, slowing her pace slightly behind Derpy. “Stay close,” she warned to her friends.

They did. Step by cautious step, the air grew heavier, their weapons drawn and ready. The sound of their own breathing deepened with tension.

 

Without warning, the fog thinned once more. The desolate wasteland they had trudged through began to fade. Ahead, a small village emerged: neat wooden house with tiled roofs. Children rushed through the street as the faint sound of a blacksmith’s hammer striking echoed. In the distance, the gentle splash of water was heard from a nearby stream. The village bustled with life.

 

Zoey blinked in disbelief. “Are we… back on Earth?”

Mira lowered her Gok-do slightly, without relaxing her grip. “No way… this makes no sense.” Her eyes widened as she took in her surroundings. “This place…It looks-“ She paused, brow furrowing as she studied the villagers’ clothing “Straight out of the 17th century… maybe the 18th…” she murmured, almost automatically.

Zoey turned to her, surprised. “Wait, how do you even know that?”

Rumi shook her head, unease twisting in her stomach. “It’s not real,” she said firmly. “It can’t be.”

They followed the narrow street, the rhythmic thwack of bamboo striking wood guiding them. The sound echoed faintly through the alley. Turning a corner, Rumi stopped abruptly, followed by Zoey running face first into her shoulder.

A young boy stood in a small courtyard, sweat running down his neck. His hands were scraped raw as he swung a wooden staff at a practice post. His breath came in ragged gasps, but he didn’t stop.

Zoey blinked, frowning slightly. “Who is that? What’s he doing out here alone?”

The boy couldn’t have been older than twelve or thirteen. His hair was tied back neatly, his clothing simple but worn. Despite his exhaustion, he kept moving — striking the post with determined precision.

Then, a voice echoed from beyond the courtyard wall. Deep. Cold.

“Again.”

The boy stiffened but obeyed, striking harder.

“Pathetic,” the voice spat. “You call that strength?. You think that’s worthy of my name?”

Rumi’s heart sank as a tall man stepped into view. His face was sharp, lined with authority – and fury. Every movement he made was precise.

The boy stumbled, his staff slipping from his hands and clattering to the ground. He dropped to his knees, panting.

“I—I’m sorry, Father,” he stammered, voice trembling.

A shadow fell over him, as his father’s tall, rigid frame approached. Without hesitation, he struck the boy across the face with the back of his hand. The sound echoed like a gunshot through the quiet air.

Zoey gasped, hands flying to her mouth. Mira’s fists clenched.

“Get up,” the man barked.

The boy trembled, tears welling in his eyes, but obeyed without hesitation. “Yes, Father,” he whispered. Picking up the staff, he struck again, movements slower but filled with desperate determination. Each hit shuddered through his small frame.

Finally, the father turned to walk away, his robe brushing against the dirt. The heavy wooden gate closed behind him with a dull thud.

For a moment, only the sound of the boy’s quiet sobs filled the courtyard.

Rumi took a tentative step forward. “He looks so young…” she trailed off, eyes softening with sadness. “This is cruel.”

The girls edged closer, unnoticed by the boy. His eyes remained fixed on the post, body trembling.

As they approached, his features became clearer: dark, sorrowful eyes, tightly clenched jaw.

Suddenly, Mira’s eyes widened. “Rumi…” she began. “He looks just like…”

Zoey’s own eyes widened as she came to a similar realisation. “Abby?” She whispered in disbelief.

Rumi crouched beside the boy. Her heart pounded loudly as she reached a hesitant hand to his shoulder. A chill ran up her arm as her hand passed straight through him. She gasped, stumbling back.

As if responding to her interference, the scene shifted violently. The boy’s – Abby’s – sobs warped into a distant echo, the sky above them darkening to a bruised violet. The courtyard around them blurred, wooden walls bending and melting like ink bleeding through paper. The girls stumbled, clutching at one another as the air thickened with the weight of grief and anger that wasn’t their own.

“What the hell is going on!?” Mira cried out, pulling Rumi to her feet. The latter barely managed to steady herself, her vision swimming.

The ground beneath them shuddered, and when the world refocused, the boy was slightly older – his expression hardened.

He didn’t notice them. Didn’t hear them. He was entirely absorbed in his own world.

The girls exchanged a quick, uncertain glance, frozen in the moment. their minds racing with unanswered questions and confusion. Rumi swallowed hard, clenching her fists as she looked on at the former muscle man of the Saja Boys.

If this was only a glimpse of what was to come, then the path ahead promised to be far more treacherous than they could imagine.

Chapter Text

The winter air bit at the young boy’s cheeks as he crouched behind the wooden fence, small hands gripping the splintered slats. Frost clung to the edge of the hanok courtyard. The boy’s breath puffed in short, nervous bursts. Beyond the fence, his brothers trained in the sand-packed yard, their movements rhythmic and precise under the morning sun.

Tae-Hyun, the eldest, moved first, his wooden staff slicing through the cold air with a sharp crack. His stance was solid, unshaken. Jun-seok, Min-ho, and Dae-hyun followed behind, their faces flushed but focused, demonstrating their natural talent and stamina.

The youngest watched in awe. They looked like heroes from the old war tales, their sleeves snapping like banners in the wind.

“Do you see them, Seon-woo?”

His father’s voice cut through the crisp air, low and stern. Seon-woo froze. Turning, he saw the man’s tall figure framed against the rising sun, his robe swaying slightly in the bitter breeze.

“That,” his father said, eyes sharp as steel, “is what discipline looks like. That is the strength of a man who honours his name.”

Seon-woo swallowed hard. “Yes, Appa,”

His father clasped his hands behind his back, spine straight. “One day, you will stand among them. You will fight for our family, for our country. And if the gods demand it, you will die for them. That is a man’s duty.”

The young boy hesitated, his small lips trembling. “But…what if I don’t want to fight?”

The words escaped before he could catch them.

Silence fell. His father turned slowly. The faintest twitch pulled at the man’s jaw.

“You will fight,” he said, voice sharp enough to make Seon-woo flinch. “A man does not choose his duty. He fulfills it.”

Seon-woo lowered his gaze, cheeks hot despite the cold. “Yes, Appa.”

His father grunted softly, gaze already drifting back to the courtyard. Seon-woo remained still for a moment longer, the sound of wood against wood echoing in his ears. He glanced back at his brothers - each strike confident, each movement sure. A quiet unease twisted in his chest. He wanted to be like them. But something in him recoiled every time he imagined hurting someone else.

 

--------------------------------------------------------

 

The following winter, Seon-woo was finally given his own training staff. It was lighter than the others’, carved from softer wood, but his hands still ached with each strike.

“Again!” Min-ho barked, his stance flawless.

Seon-woo swung, his movements were clumsy and uncertain. Min-ho deflected with ease, twirling his staff before tapping Seon-woo sharply on the shoulder.

“Is that all you’ve got, little brother?” Min-ho jeered, grin wide. “I’ve seen girls swing harder than that!”

The youngest heard chuckles from behind as Jun-seok and Dae-hyun leaned upon the fence.

Seon-woo’s face burned red. He lunged again, desperate to prove himself. His staff sliced through the air, but too slow. Min-ho sidestepped easily and swept the boy’s legs out from underneath him. Seon-woo hit the ground with a dull thud, breath leaving him in a gasp.

“Too slow!” Min-ho said again, lowering his staff to rest against his shoulder. His frame towered over Seon-woo “You’ll never last a day on the battlefield like that.”

The younger boy winced, pushing himself up, his palms scraped and raw. “I—I’ll… I’ll get better.”

“You said that yesterday,” Jun-seok chimed in, laughing.

Their father stood nearby, silent beneath the veranda’s shadow. His arms were crossed. Even in silence, his disapproval weighed on the air.

“Again.” their father ordered coldly.

Seon-woo gritted his teeth, gripping his staff tightly as he swung out. His arms ached, stance faltering. Min-ho struck back, fast and hard, striking him across the ribs with a dull crack. The boy dropped his weapon, collapsing to his knees, breath wheezing from his chest.

“Enough,” his father said finally. “If you cannot defend yourself, you dishonour this family. Go tend the fire. At least that is a task you can manage.”

The words stung deeper than the bruise. Seon-woo bowed his head, blinking hard to keep from crying. As he turned away, the laughter of his brothers’ followed him, echoing of the courtyard walls.

 

--------------------------------------------------------

 

Seon-woo sat cross-legged near the back of the house, a charcoal stick in hand. The smell of soot and pine smoke filled the air. On a scrap of parchment, he sketched the faint lines of a lion.

The strokes were soft, deliberate. His fingers left dark smudges on the paper. The lion’s eyes gleamed with pride and strength; the kind he desperately longed for.

He smiled faintly, humming under his breath.

“Look at this!”

The voice startled him. Seon-woo froze as two shadows fell over his shoulder.

“The mighty warrior sits here drawing like a girl.” Min-ho scoffed, leaning down.

“I’m not—” Seon-woo began, shielding his parchment.

Jun-seok snatched it easily, holding it up to the light with a mocking grin. “What is this supposed to be? A cat?”

“It’s a lion,” Seon-woo mumbled.

“A lion?” Min-ho laughed, tearing the parchment slightly as he snatched it from Jun-seok. “You think this will protect Joseon?”

Seon-woo’s heart sank. “Please, give it back.” He whispered, reaching forward hesitantly.

Min-ho snickered again, the sound harsh in the quiet room. The youngest boy watched in horror as his brother crumpled the parchment, tossing it over his shoulder. His eyes glistening with tears.

“Appa’s right,” Jun-seok smirked, looking down on the boy. “You’ll never be a fighter.”

Before Seon-woo could reply, another voice boomed down the hall.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

Tae-hyun’s figure filled the doorway, hands folded over his chest. The brothers froze.

Min-ho straightening immediately. “Hyung, we were just-“

“Go,” Tae-hyun snapped. “Now.”

They scrambled away quickly.

 

Tae-hyun knelt beside Seon-woo, picking up the torn parchment. His expression softened as he brushed off the dirt and handed it back.

“Don’t listen to them.” He said gently. You’re strong too, just… in your own-.” he paused looking for the right word, “-special way.”

Seon-woo stared at the crumpled drawing. “Why do they hate me.” He asked softly.

“They don’t hate you, little brother.” Tae-hyun sighed. “They just don’t understand. Father praises those who fight, so they fight harder to be seen.”

He smiled faintly, as his eyes met the parchment. “I think they’re just jealous you can see strength in something other than a sword.”

A small, tearful smile crept across Seon-woo’s face. Tae-hyun ruffled his hair.

“Don’t worry, little brother.” He said quietly. “I will always be here to protect you.”

 

--------------------------------------------------------

 

Rain slicked streets reflected the dark sky as Seon-woo stumbled through the muddy path behind his home, his small frame barely keeping pace with the wind whipping at his face.

The cold night air bit against his skin, as his tears blended with the relentless fall of rain. He ignored the continued shouts that carried from the house behind him, the sound of something breaking as it crashed to the floor.

He could hear his father's voice screaming insults and slurs from inside, but Seon-woo didn't dare to look back. His breath came ragged in the cold air as he ran, white puffs vanishing as quickly as they formed.

 

Useless. Pathetic. You'll never amount to anything.

 

The words continued to replay in his head, over and over again as he ran.

His cheek throbbed from where his father had swung at him, the blood already washed away with the rain. He was certain that it would bruised.

Seon-woo continued to run until the village lights faded, until his chest burned and his legs ached. The wet ground sloped downward towards the river, the sound of rushing water growing louder with each step.

He collapsed by the water’s edge, sobbing quietly. His clothes clung to him, soaking wet and covered in mud. Beside him, the river roared, dark and fast, its surface catching the faint shimmer of moonlight behind the clouds.

 

Why am I like this?  He thought bitterly. Why can’t I be like them?

 

His fists pressed against his knee as he gritted his teeth. His eyes tightly scrunched. He wanted to disappear, to let the current wash him away.

He was never going to be good enough for him. Every bruise, every scar on the young boy's body was just a reminder of his weakness. A weakness that his father refused to let him forget.

 

“Seon-woo?”

A gentle voice called from behind, startling him. He turned sharply to see his eldest brother standing a few paces away.

“Hyung…” Seon-woo’s voice cracked. “Why are you here?”

“I’ve been looking for you.” Tae-hyun replied softly, unbothered by the rain. He stepped closer, kneeling beside the younger boy. “What are you doing all the way out here? Come home.”

Seon-woo turned away, hugging his knees. “I… I can’t,” He whispered. “Abeoji…I’ll never be good enough for him.”

The elder placed a hand on his shoulder, steady and warm. “You can’t let him get to you like this. Appa means well.” Tae-hyun averted his own eyes. “He just wants you to be strong.”

“He doesn’t want me at all.” Seon-woo frowned, wiping at his tears. “I’m too weak. I can’t fight like you. Every time I try, I just make him angrier.”

“Seon. Don’t let him make you believe that.” Tae-hyun titled the younger’s chin gently so that their eyes met. “Being gentle can be your greatest strength.”

“Then why does it hurt so much?”

“Because you care,” Tae-hyun whispered. “And people who care always hurt the most.”

 

They sat in silence for a while, the sound of the river filling the spaces between their words as the rain came to a halt.

Finally, Tae-hyun stood, extending his hand. “Come. Let’s go home.”

Seon-woo nodded weakly, slipping his small, cold hand into his brother’s. Tae-hyun’s grip felt warm. Safe.

 

They began walking along the riverbank. The sound of rushing water was deafening in the otherwise quiet night.

A sudden noise startled the younger boy, causing his foot to slip on the wet stones.

“Hyung!”

The world tilted as Seon-woo’ body hit the freezing current. He gasped, flailing helplessly as the river dragged him under.

“Seon-woo!” Tae-hyun eyes widened in horror, diving immediately in after his brother.

The current was merciless. Seon-woo’s vision blurred as water filled his mouth. His lungs burning as he struggled to gain air. A strong arm wrapped around his chest, dragging him upward. He broke the surface, coughing violently, the river trashing around them both.

“Hold on!” Tae-hyun shouted.

The river roared louder as the current pulled them both downstream. Seon-woo’s hands clutched desperately at his brother’s sleeve, still gasping for air as water slammed against his face.
Through the chaos, Tae-hyun’s eyes caught on a thick branch lodged against a rock. With all his might to shove his little brother towards it. Seon-woo’s hands found the rough bark. He clung desperately, coughing and crying.

“Tae-hyun!” he screamed.

But his brother was already gone - swallowed whole by the black water.

‘Hyung!”

Seon-woo screams tore through the valley, voice cracking in the cold air. He dragged himself to shore, lungs burning, fingers bleeding as he clawed through the mud. He turned back to the river, eyes darting wildly across its dark surface.

Tears streamed down his face as he continued to scream for his brother, breath shaky.

But the river only roared louder.

 

Chapter Text

The river had long since quieted, but in Seon-woo’s mind, it never stopped roaring.

He sat by the water’s edge for hours, the chill seeping through his soaked garments until his fingers turned numb and his lips blue. His brother’s name tore itself from his throat in broken cries, swallowed by the wind. By the time the villagers found him, he could no longer speak — only shiver and stare at the rushing current that had taken Tae-hyun away.

They searched three full days for his brother. When they finally dragged a body from the reeds far downstream, his father didn’t weep. The man’s grief came in silence first, then in rage.

“You should have drowned instead,” he hissed one night, voice dripping with poison. His hand struck hard enough to send Seon-woo sprawling, cheek pressed against the cold floorboards. The boy could do nothing but remain huddled in the corner as his father’s blows fell again and again. Even slurred, his father’s words made Seon-woo’s chest clench. The boy bit his tongue until he tasted blood, refusing to cry. He’d learned tears only made it worse.

 

His remaining brothers made sure Seon-woo felt their hatred.

 Jun-seok would shoulder past him in the halls hard enough to leave bruises, muttering insults under his breath, “watch where you’re going, sal-inja”.

Min-ho once hurled a bowl at Seon-woo’s head, the hot broth splattering across the wall as he ducked just in time.

Even Dae-hyun, who used to tie the younger boy’s topknot when they were younger, could no longer meet his eyes. When he did, his gaze burned with disgust.

Seon-woo learnt to dread meal times. The silence was deafening, broken only by the clatter of bowls and the weight of unspoken blame. No one ever spoke of Tae-hyun, not aloud at least. But his absence hung heavier than any word.

Months passed beneath the onslaught of his brothers’ rage. Eventually, the shouting dulled. They grew tired of screaming. But the hatred in their eyes never faded.

They stopped pushing him around. Stopped calling him names.

They stopped speaking to him at all.

Seon-woo wasn’t sure which was worse – the violent blows and curses, or the way they began to pass him like a stranger. As if he were a ghost haunting their home.

As the years passed, the house only grew quieter. Emptier

One by one his brothers left to begin their own journeys.

Min-ho left first. Running off in the middle of the night, without a goodbye. Their father said he had gone to join the army.

Jun-seok followed soon after. He was to be married in the spring. Him and his new wife were eager to move east, closer to the capital and to her family.

Each brother’s absence felt like another knife twisting in Seon-woo’s chest.

Dae-seok was the last to go. The day he left to join the border troops, Seon-woo chased him to the gate and grabbed his arm. He wanted to say something – beg him not to leave, beg him to give his younger brother just one more chance. But Dae-seok didn’t let him speak.

“Don’t wait for me,” was all he said, before pulling free and turning his back.

 

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Seon-woo was alone.

His father’s voice remained the only constant, echoing commands and ridicule through the empty house.

By the time Seon-woo turned sixteen, he’d learned to stay invisible. He moved only when told, keeping his head bowed during meals. When his father spoke, he answered quickly. When struck, he did not flinch. He learned to bear every bruise and insult in silence.  

That autumn, a royal decree arrived.

All men of suitable age were to be conscripted. The king demanded soldiers.

His father hadn’t been surprised. The country had grown restless; border tensions and whispers of rebellion made war inevitable in his eyes. The older man’s hands trembled as he read the notice aloud, but not from fear. When his eyes met Seon-woo’s, they gleamed with cruel satisfaction.

“You will go,” he said, gripping the parchment tightly. “Perhaps now, you’ll do something useful.”

Seon-woo’s heart sank, but he only bowed his head. He didn’t want to fight. The thought of taking another life sickened him. But he could never admit his fears to the older man before him.

Two days later, he stood in the same courtyard where he’d once watched his brothers train. His father adjusted the straps on his satchel and straightened the young man’s collar. It was the first time his hands had touched Seon-woo without violence in years.

“Do not shame our family any further.” His father said flatly.

“Yes, Abeoji.”

Just as Seon-woo turned to leave, his father’s voice softened.

“Return a man,” he muttered. “Or don’t return at all.”

For a moment, Seon-woo thought he saw the faintest glimmer of pride in his father’s eyes. It was enough to make him believe that maybe, just maybe, he could still make things right.

He carried that fragile hope with him as he left the village, the autumn leaves crunching beneath his boots. The villagers stood at their doors, whispering prayers and parting words as his figure passed. Some prayed for his safe return, others hoping that the war might finally carve him into the man he was meant to be.

Seon-woo kept his eyes lowered, shoulders stiff beneath the weight of their stares. He didn’t look back.

But the crushing weight of his father’s expectations followed behind him, all the same.

The camp stank of smoke and sweat. Rows of tents stretched endlessly across the frozen plain, the air sharp enough to cut.

Seon-woo had never travelled beyond his village before. He had never seen so many faces – young boys like himself, stripped of their home and name, turned into soldiers overnight. Some joked to hide their fear. Others prayed. Seon-woo did neither. He kept his eyes down and hands busy, polishing armour that wasn’t even his.

The first few months were a blur of drills and shouting. He learned quickly that obedience meant survival. At least that part was familiar from home. When the captain barked orders, he moved before thinking. Older soldiers mocked his small frame or quiet nature, but Seon-woo endured, just as he had done his entire life.

Rations ran short through the winter, starving the soldiers. Some nights, he would wake to the sound of boys gnawing on leather straps, just to quiet their stomachs. And still, Seon-woo told himself he deserved worse. That the hunger was punishment.

 

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

It wasn’t until several months in that he met Ji-won. A boy only a year or so older than himself, with a crooked grin and voice too loud for their world.

“Hey. You’re from the southern unit, right?” He spoke, plopping down beside Seon-woo one night by the fire. “The one who never talks?”

Seon-woo didn’t look up but tensed slightly. “I talk.” He muttered, voice low.

“Prove it then.” Ji-won smirked, raising a brow. He offered half his ration – a few grains of rice wrapped in cloth. “Here. A price for your voice.”

The younger boy hesitated, squinting in confusion. “You shouldn’t waste it.” Seon-woo said finally, his voice dry and cautious.

Ji-won laughed, followed by a casual shrug. “Better to share than starve alone.”

 

They became inseparable after that. Ji-won seeming to find more and more ways to always be near the younger boy. He quietly lending an extra blanket when Seon-woo shivered, offer him water after days filled with endless training. Seon-woo enjoyed when Ji-won would tell stories about his village by the coast. He spoke of his mother whose voice was magical, and his sisters who he would always try to make laugh.

Seon-woo never shared his own stories, but Ji-won never pressed. He seemed to understand that some things were better left unsaid.

It was enough to sit together, sometimes in silence, sometimes listening to the distant hum of drums that meant another battle was coming. And yet, in that quiet companionship, Seon-woo felt a small relief. For the first time since Tae-hyun’s death, Seon-woo didn’t feel entirely alone.

 

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Then came the night the drums didn’t stop.

Snow fell heavy that morning, blanketing the dead in a pale shroud. Young men who would never return home again. Still, the army marched. The enemy had taken the ridge. Their orders were clear and brutal. Fight. Reclaim. Survive.

Seon-woo’s hands trembled around his spear. The world blurred into sounds – metal on metal, the screams of horses and men alike. He felt the earth tremble as cannons fired around him.

He moved without thought. Thrust, Parrie. Duck.

The once-clean rhythm of training was lost in the chaos of the battlefield. The air stank of blood and smoke, thick enough to taste.

Then, through the haze, he met the eyes of an enemy charging towards him. Seon-woo’s hands froze. No matter what his commanders said, the figure rushing towards him was no monster, he was just a boy. Younger them himself and just as terrified.

Seon-woo’s grip faltered. He couldn’t strike. Couldn’t kill.

He stumbled back, tripping over bodies and mud. His chest heaved, vision tunnelling. The noise swelled until it drowned into everything else.

A hand seized his arm, yanking him upright. Ji-won stood beside him, breathing hard, face streaked with dirt and blood. At their feet lay the young boy, eyes wide, yet glazed over and looking to nothing.

“Focus, Seon! We have to keep moving!” Ji-won’s voice cracked as his eyes darted across the battlefield.

Seon-woo blinked, hands shaking and pupils dilated. He tried to answer, but the words caught in his throat. His friend turned, readying his blade-

-and then froze.

The sound that followed was wet and low. A blade slid through Ji-won’s chest. For a moment, neither moved. Their eyes met as a single tear cut through the grime on Ji-won’s cheek.

Seon-woo let out a loud broken cry as the blade was retraced, Ji-won crumpling to the floor. He dropped to his knees beside the body, fingers trembling, blood seeping into the snow around them.

The roar of the battlefield faded to a hollow ringing as his remained eyes locked on his fallen friend.

Suddenly, a shadow moved. Steel flashing before him. Seon-woo’s instincts took over. He duck, swung wildly and ran.

Around him, the battle continued. The air thick with fire, blood, and death as his comrades fell one by one. Every scream made something deep inside him break further.

 

 

By the time the battle had ended, the field was silent. Hundreds of bodies laid scattered and still. Seon-woo stumbled through the carnage, the metallic tang of blood heavy in his throat. Each body he passed twisted the guilt in his chest. They were all so young. Some even younger than himself. Their lives would amount to nothing more than a number on a report, names already fading.

He found Ji-won’s body half-buried in the snow. The blood already cooled, staining the white ground below him. His skin was pale, lips blue. His eyes remained open, staring into a sky he could no longer see.

A strangled sound broke from Seon-woo’s throat as he felt his heart clench.

His legs gave out, knees sinking into the frozen earth beside his friend. The cold bit through his clothes, but he barely felt it. With trembling fingers, he brushed a strand of hair from his friends face, closing his unseeing eyes for the final time.

His breath fogged the air as he whispered,

“I’m sorry.”

 

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Years blurred into a ragged line of marches, skirmishes and frozen camps. The war carried on relentlessly, throughout the seasons. Time became measureless until at last, it was over. They had lost.

The journey from the front lines to his village was a slow collapse into grey sky and endless walking. His uniform hung loose on his thin frame, his sleeves stiff with old blood and ash. He no longer felt the hunger or cold, too constant to notice.

As the gates of the village came into view, Seon-woo hesitated. He hardly recognised it. Rice fields were bare, the stream choked with mud. An earie quiet stretched through the streets, the war had left his home to starve and crumble, and even the familiar scent of earth and smoke seemed twisted and foreign

As he trudged through the once lively streets, he felt the eyes of the few passing by. The air felt heavier as whispers and judgements followed him. Coward. Disgrace.

Seon-woo did his best to ignore, keeping his head low. But deep down, he knew he deserved to be called far worse.

Finally, his old house came into view, courtyard feeling large as ever, despite its age reflecting in the splintering wood. His gaze fixed on the front entrance; its wooden beams warped from years of rain. Seon-woo recalled sitting by those same steps as a child, watching his brothers spar under their father’s watchful eye. He raised a hesitant hand to knock.

The door, however, swung open before Seon-woo even had a chance. His father stood tall on the other side. Although the old man’s hair had turned completely grey, his eyes remained sharp as ever. He wore his officer’s robe, though he’d been long retired.

For one startled breath, Seon-woo thought he saw something soften in the old man’s eyes. Then just as quickly, it was gone.

“You’re alive.” His father said flatly.

Seon-woo bowed low. “Yes, abeoji.”

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, his father stepped aside. “Then come in. Before the neighbours see.”

Inside, the house was silent. The air thick with incense, heavy with years of prayer and loss. Light from low windows pooled on polished floorboard, glinting softly on the old wood. Seon-woo hesitated before following his father down main hall, suddenly feeling much smaller than he remembered.

He stopped before the shrine. A neat array of wooden ancestral tablets stood in a careful order upon the small table, each papered with faded calligraphy and surrounded by simple offerings.

His throat tightened. Every name carved into the wood was a familiar one. Each belonging to a brother who had once trained beside. Their voices still echoing faintly in his mind. Though they had each left with resentment, the youngest son couldn’t stop the tremor in his breath as he gazed at the shrine.

He had heard the reports, the hushed talk of their deaths, but seeing their names enshrined before him made it undeniably real.

And there, among them, was Tae-hyun.

His heart clenched as his eldest brother’s final moments replayed in his head. Seon-woo forced himself to look away, his gaze drifting instead to a much older display.

He had never known his mother. She had died from an incurable illness not long after his birth. The first life cursed by his existence, he thought bitterly. As a child, he used to imagine what she might have been like. He would try to picture the sound of her voice or the warmth of her hands. But standing there now, before the shrine, it all felt impossibly distant – like a dream he had long since forgotten.

Seon-woo bowed his head in respect before following his father once more. His eyes lingering on the shrine for a final moment before stepping into the kitchen.

His father instructed him to sit at the table as he went to prepare two bowls. Every sound behind him made Seon-woo flinch. However, he remained silent, still unsure. His father places a small bowl of rice in front of the now, young man. Seon-woo bowed his head slightly in gratitude.

The elder man took his own seat, picking up his set of chop sticks. Seon-woo, followed hesitantly, but couldn’t ignore the way the rice warmed his stomach for the first time in years.

They sat in silence, even after the meal had been fully consumed. Seon-woo waited. He would not make a move without his father’s demand.

Finally, a deep hum snapped Seon-woo’s eyes to attention.

“I hear what happened on the ridge.” His father spoke finally.

Seon-woo’s fingers clawed at the fabric at his knees. “I-”

A simple hand raise was enough for Seon-woo to silence himself.

“You ran,” the old man went on, voice remaining calm. “You left your comrades to die.”

The words cut deeper than any blade.

“I-I tried to-”

The table shook under his father’s fist as he slammed it down. Seon-woo flinched intensely. Eyes immediately looking away.

“You failed them! You failed your blood, your training, your name. You failed me!”

Seon-woo couldn’t look up. He tried to keep his breathing controlled as his father continued.

“Do you know what the villagers call you now?” His father hissed, rising from his seat. “Coward! A shameful disgrace!”

Seon-woo’s chest ached. He wanted to shout that he had tried. That he’d carried Ji-won’s lifeless body in his arms until his knees gave out. That he had continued to fight for years since. But the words remained tangled in his throat.

“You should have died on that ridge with honour.” The elder said, now towering in front of Seon-woo. “At least then, I could have been proud.” His father spat with venom.

Seon-woo raised his head to finally meet his father’s eyes, only to find them burning with an all too familiar hatred. He searched longingly, hoping for the man’s anger to faulter. For him to take back what he had said.

“Get out of my sight.”

Seon-woo didn’t move. He couldn’t. “Abeoji, please-”

He was cut off as his father struck him across the face. Hard. The sound ringing in his ears as Seon-woo fell from his chair. The taste of metal rose in his mouth, room spinning from his place on the floor. The sting felt hot across his cheek, as did the tears threating his eyes, but he refused to cry.

“You have no right to call me that!” His father shouted, fists bundled as he closed in on the younger man once again. Seon-woo stumbled back on the floor, his back eventually pushing up against the thin wall.

A heavy hand seized the collar of Seon-woo’s shirt and hurled him against the wall. He heard plates shatter around him from the cabinet above.

He was jerked into the air again by a hand wrapping around his neck. He could feel the crushing weight around his throat as he desperately gasped for air.

“Appa… please-” Seon-woo managed to say. His own hands clawing at the elder’s for release.

“You are no son of mine!”

Seon-woo was thrown once again, crumpling to the floor as he greedily inhaled the air. Tears fell from his eyes unwillingly.

“Now get out!” his father snarled. “Before I end you myself!”

This time, Seon-woo didn’t hesitate. He staggered to his feet, rushing into the night and away from the village that was no longer his.

 

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Seon-woo wandered endlessly through the frozen countryside, the moon his only witness. He slept beneath bridges, working odd jobs in exchange for a meal or place to rest. He cut firewood, mended roofs, carried water… anything to keep his hands busy and mind quiet.

But the guilt festered like rot.

It whispered in his dreams.

Coward. You kill everything you touch. You are a curse. The voice spat with venom, mimicking Tae-hyun.

Other nights, it was another of his brothers. Or Ji-won. Worst of all, his father. None of them would let him forget – the blood on his hands, the shame in his name.

A year had passed like this. Drifting, starving, forgetting what anything felt like before.

At dusk, he often wandered to the riverbank, staring into the water as it caught the last light of the sun. It reminded him of Tae-hyun. Once, he swore he saw his brother’s reflection in the ripples but blamed it on exhaustion.

Then, one evening, as the sun dipped below the hills, a strange sound broke the stillness. A whisper. Soft at first, barely there, curling through the air like smoke.

I killed him. Seon-woo thought bitterly. I killed all of them.

Seon-woo clenched his fists before slamming one to the hard ground, eyes tightly shut.

“Poor child… always trying. But never good enough.”

A silky, deep voice echoed from behind him. Seon-woo’s head spun quickly, every muscle tensed.

“Who’s there?” He demanded.

“All your life, you’ve obeyed. You gave everything. Yet they called you weak. Coward. Useless.”

Seon-woo’s breath hitched. The voice felt too close. Too knowing.

“But what if you could change that?” it continued. “I can make you strong. I can give you everything your father wished for.”

Seon-woo’s chest tightened, dread coiling in his stomach. “Who are you?” He called out. He remembered the old stories of demons. Tales of broken souls who were preyed on, twisting their pain into power. His brother, Min-ho would often try to scare the younger with these warnings. Saying he would be too weak to fight the demons off.

“A friend.” The voice returned. “One who offers you the power you’ve been denied.”

A faint glow shimmered in the mist.

“Power…” Seon-woo breathed.

“Enough to protect. Enough to destroy. Enough to make them regret ever doubting you.”

His pulse quickened. The air seemed to hum with something ancient, dangerous, alluring.

 “You could finally make your father the proud man you long for him to be.”

“What… what do I have to do?” he asked hesitantly.

“Only say yes.”

The words lingered in his mind. He knew too well the feeling of helplessness. What is felt like to be small. To be unwanted. Weak.

“Say yes, Seon-woo. Take back your worth.”

He thought of Ji-won’s blood in the snow. Of Tae-hyun’s hand slipping from his grasp. Of his father’s cold, disgusted stare.

He should have been stronger for them. He should have been braver.

“Do you accept my offer?”

The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them.

“Yes.”

When Seon-woo woke, his body felt… different. The ache in his muscles was gone. His reflection in the river shimmered with something unnatural—eyes tinged faintly gold, veins faintly glowing beneath the skin. The fear that once ruled him had vanished, replaced by a terrifying calm.

He was strong now. Powerful.

When he returned home, the villagers shrank away instinctively. The air around him carried a chill, the kind that made their breath hitch. His father stood in the doorway, shock flickering across his features before fury hardened his face.

“You dare return here after your disgrace?” The older man spat.

Seon-woo smiled faintly, a bitter curve of his lips. “Disgrace? No, Abeoji. I’ve became what you wanted. I am strong now.”

The floor trembled slightly beneath his step.

 “What have you done?” His father stepped back, fear finally showing in his eyes.

“Appa-”

“You are not my son.”

He froze. The rejection burned deep. Something inside Seon-woo cracked. He felt an anger, hot and unfamiliar, pulse through his veins. His lips curling in a grimace, eyes hardening.

He left the house without another word, slamming the door so hard the house shook.

 

That night, Seon-woo stood at the edge of the forest. The home he’d never belonged to glowed faintly in the distance. His father’s words echoed in his mind, twisted by the voice that now lingered at the edge of his thoughts.

“You see? They will never accept you.”

Seon-woo closed his eyes, letting the dark energy pulse through his veins.

“If they won’t see me,” he whispered, “then they’ll remember me.”

 

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

When the next call for soldiers came, Seon-woo volunteered—no longer the frightened boy from the ridge, but as something else entirely.

The warfront burned red as he arrived. Men whispered of a god among them. A soldier who moved through enemy lines like smoke. Unbreakable.

Seon-woo felt no fear. No hesitation. Each strike was effortless, each death a step closer to redemption.

But death is indifferent.

Arrows tore through the sky. Fire consumed the world around him.

Even with the power he had granted, the world showed no mercy.

He fought until his body failed. Until blood pooled at his feet. But he didn’t stop. Still, he swung his blade, desperate to prove he was enough.

Cannon fire echoed in his ears, each one seeming closer than the last. But he refused to back down. He couldn’t be weak. He had to endure.

 

I can still fight… I can still-

 

Another cannon roared.

Seon-woo froze, breath catching as he saw the projectile hurtling towards him.

There was no time to move.

He grimaced, a flicker of defiance in his eyes.

The world went dark.

Chapter Text

The air hung heavy as the trio moved cautiously through the haze, their footsteps echoing faintly despite the ground feeling unnatural beneath them. Shadows bled and reformed until the landscape settled into a familiar courtyard. 

“It’s the same place from before,” Zoey said, glancing around.

Mira frowned. “Why are we back here again?”

A sudden movement caught Rumi’s eye. Across the courtyard, a small boy crouched behind a wooden fence, gripping it tightly. Mist clung to his shoulders.

“Look!” Rumi called out, the other girls following her gaze.

“That’s Abby, right?” Zoey whispered. “He’s even smaller now.”

Mira crept closer, straining for a better look at his face. “He looks… sad,” she murmured, breath forming white puffs in the cold air.

They edged forward, the cold biting at their cheeks. Suddenly, four older boys appeared ahead, moving in sync. Their eyes sharp and grip tight on wooden staffs.

“Who are they?” Zoey asked curiously, scanning their faces.

“Maybe his brothers?” Rumi pressed her lips together. “They look similar.”

“Must be.” Mira’s gaze drifted upward. “Look. There!”

Rumi and Zoey followed her eyes to see a man behind the youngest boy – his father. 

“Do you see them, Seon-woo?”

“Seon-woo…” Mira repeated. “That must be his real name.”

Rumi hummed beside her. They had all assumed the Saja Boys’ names were just for show. Stage names to fit the archetype they were meant to play while hiding their true nature as demons. But hearing the name made something in her chest twist. It made the boy before her feel… human. 

Zoey shivered at the man’s sharp voice. “…and if the gods demand it, you will die for them.” 

Mira grimaced, taking a half-step forward. How could a father say something like that to his own child? She exhaled sharply, letting out a frustrated huff.
 
The boy tried to protest, voice trembling. “But…what if I don’t want to fight?”

“You will fight. A man does not choose his duty. He fulfills it.”

Mira’s hands clenched at her sides, noticing the way the boy flinched at his father’s tone.

“What’s wrong with him?” She hissed under her breath.

 “Yes, Appa.” The boy spoke softly, voice defeated.

 

------

 

Suddenly, the world shifted. Abby – now slightly older - stood in the training yard, sparring clumsily with one of his elder brothers.

The girls watched as his brother easily deflected each strike before hitting Abby with unnecessary force. 

“Is that all you’ve got, little brother?” He mocked.

Abby lunged again, desperation clear on his face. Rumi winced as his legs out from underneath him and he crashed to the ground with a dull thud.

“Too slow! You’ll never last a day on the battlefield like that.” The older boy chuckled.

 “I—I’ll… I’ll get better.” Mira recoiled at the youth and desperation in his voice. She grimaced slightly, watching as he forced himself back to his feet.

“You said that yesterday,” Another voice teased. Rumi turned to see two of the boys leaning against the fence, smirking. She shot them a glare, though she knew they couldn’t see her.

“Again.” 

The shout startled the girls. Their attention snapped to the father, his disappointed gaze like ice.

“I seriously hate that guy…” Mira muttered, crossing her arms tightly while glaring daggers at the old man.

Abby swung out again, only to be struck down once more, collapsing to his knees. 

“Enough,” his father said finally. “If you cannot defend yourself, you dishonour this family. Go tend the fire. At least that is a task you can manage.”

Mira let out an almost growl at the man’s words. Cruel laughter continued to echo as the world faded into mist.
 

------

 

The world reformed, now inside a house. 

Zoey was the first to move after noticing Abby sitting on the floor, sketching quietly. She squinted at the drawing and made out to what looked to be a lion. Of course it is, she thought. It almost seemed destined, the very creature that would one day define the demon boyband he’d be a part of.

She watched, awed by the steadiness of his hand. His strokes were deliberate, delicate. 

“Look at this! The mighty warrior sits here drawing like a girl.” 

Mira saw Abby stiffen as two shadows appeared behind him - two of his older brother.

“Hey!” Zoey called out as one of them snatched the drawing from Abby’s hands, holding it with a mocking grin. “What is this supposed to be? A cat?”

“It’s a lion,” Zoey snapped back defensively - at the same moment Abby spoke. Rumi might have smiled at her protectiveness under better circumstances.

“A lion? You think this will protect Joseon?” The other boy laughed, tearing the parchment slightly. 

Rumi’s heart sank as Abby whispered, “Please, give it back.” 

Zoey gasped, as the parchment was crumpled in the brother’s hands.

“Appa’s right, You’ll never be a fighter.” 

Her eyes remained fixed on the ruined drawing, the fragile lion reduced to a smudge of ink and torn parchment.

“That’s so cruel,” she whispered. “He didn’t even do anything.”

Mira didn’t answer, too focused on the boy - the way his shoulders sagged as he stared at the ruined drawing. He didn’t yell. Didn’t fight back. 

Suddenly, the air around them grew heavier. The house, the boys, even Abby himself began to dissolve into the mist. 

“Oh no,” Rumi stepped back, eyes darting around. “It’s changing again.”

 

 ------

 

The world re-formed with a shudder. 

The air was damp, mist curling along the ground. The smell of mud and rain hung thick around them. Rumi stumbled forward as heavy droplets fell from the sky, yet she remained dry. She held out her hand, fascinated to see the rain pass through her fingers.

“Where are we now?” Zoey spoke, squinting through the downpour.

A sharp crash cut through the rain, followed by shouting. The girls exchanged a quick glance before running towards the sound.

They reached a wooden house, the door half-open. Rumi hesitated, then pushed it gently - it swung open with ease.

Inside was chaos. Broken bowls littered the floor, chairs overturned. Rumi’s eyes caught two boys hiding behind a wall, their faces pale with fear. She recognised them from the previous memory. Beside her, Mira’s breath hitched. “Abby!” 

The boy, older again, crouched in a corner. His sleeve was torn, blood running down his temple. His father loomed over him, voice booming with rage.

Mira didn’t waste a second, jumping in between the boy and his father. 

“Get away from him!” She shouted.

The man didn’t respond. Nor did he show any sign he had even heard her. However, to their surprise, his weight shifted slightly as Mira pushed him back.

Rumi rushed to help, grabbing his arm, while Zoey knelt beside Abby, trying to wipe the blood from his face. Her breath caught when she realised she could feel his trembling skin, the blood smeared across her fingers.

“Guys! He’s real! I can touch him!” Zoey gasped.

But the boy remained frozen, eyes wide and locked on the man above him. It was as if she wasn’t there at all.

“Come on, Abby,” Zoey urged, trying to pull him up. He wouldn’t move. She tried again, pulling harder, to no avail.

Rumi and Mira struggled with the father, who remained firmly rooted, shouting so loud the walls seemed to vibrate. Rumi yanked at his sleeve as he raised his hand to strike again.

That movement jolted the boy to life. He stumbled to his feet and bolted for the door. Zoey fell backwards as he ran straight through her. 

Rumi raced after him. “Come on! We have to follow him!”

Mira helped Zoey up before chasing their leader into the night. The man’s furious voice echoed behind - screaming slurs, curses and threats.

They chased the small figure into the woods. Branches whipped at their faces as they ran. Abby’s bare feet slapped the mud, his thin frame shaking with sobs. 

“Abby! Wait!,” Zoey shouted. “Please!” 

He didn’t look back. His shoulders heaved as he crashed through the undergrowth. 

“Seon-woo!” Zoey tried again, voice cracking through the storm.

“He can’t hear you, Zoey!” Mira called back.

The boy stumbled down a muddy bank, collapsing to his knees beside the river. His sobs drowned by the roar of rushing water.

The girls, only a beat behind, stopped a few feet away. Mira knelt, reaching instinctively for his shoulder, only for her hand to pass straight through him. The image warped momentarily.

“Dammit!” She hissed, yanking her hand back. “Why can’t we touch him anymore? It was just working!”

Zoey voice shook. “What are we supposed to do? We can’t just keep watching him suffer-” 

“Shh,” Rumi whispered. “Someone’s coming.”

From the trees, another boy emerged. Older, maybe seventeen, with the same dark hair and sharp eyes as the younger boy. 

“Is that one of his brother’s?” Zoey whispered.

“Seon-woo?” The older boy’s called softly.

Abby looked up, startled. “Hyung…Why are you here?”

“I’ve been looking for you.” The older knelt beside. Mira watched silently, listening to the teen’s gentle voice.

“What are you doing all the way out here? Come home.” 

Abby hugged his knees. “I… I can’t. Abeoji…I’ll never be good enough for him.”

The girls exchanged pained looks. Rumi’s throat tightened. She knew that feeling too well. 

The rain slowed to a drizzle as the older boy stood and offered his hand.

“Come. Let’s go home.” 

The girls followed the brother’s as they began walking down the riverbank. Zoey, trailed behind slightly, face scrunched while deep in thought.

“Do you guys feel like we’re missing something?” She asked suddenly. 

Mira raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean, why did Abby- I mean Seon-woo- I mean Abby- I mean-”

“Zoey.” Rumi sighed. 

“Sorry. I just mean… how did he calm down so fast? It feels like we totally skipped whatever his brother said to him.”

Mira turned her head and gave Zoey a questionable look.

“No, I’m serious! It’s like something’s missing-”

A crack of thunder cut her off. The girls’ eyes snapped back to the brothers just as Abby flinched at the noise, his foot slipping on the slick stones dangerously close to the river.

“Hyung!”

The girls screamed as Abby plunged into the current. 

“Seon-woo!” The older brother dove in after him. 

They ran to the edge of the water, rain pelting its surface.

“There!” Rumi pointed. The older brother resurfaced, gasping as he clutched Abby tightly. “Grab something! We have to help them!”

Mira found a long branch and thrust it forward over the water.

“Come on!” She shouted in frustration as their forms passed through it.

The brothers fought the current, water crashing over their heads. The girls ran alongside, desperate and helpless.

“Look! Up ahead!” Rumi shouted, spotting a thick branch wedged against a rock.

“Please see it! Please see it!” Zoey chanted.

And he did. The older brother used the last of his strength to shove Abby toward it.

The girls gasped in relief as he caught hold, coughing and crying.

Their relief vanished almost instantly as the older brother was swept under by the black water.

“Wait! No!” Mira cried out.

“Tae-hyun!” Abby’s scream tore through the valley.

“No… no, no, no…” Zoey’s breath hitched, her eyes scanning the water wildly. 

Abby dragged himself to shore, lungs burning. “Hyung!”

“He’s…. He’s gone.” Mira stared blankly at the water, disbelief heavy in her voice.

Rumi shook her head. “I can’t believe it… We tried to help, and it didn’t matter. Nothing we did mattered.”

She sank beside the trembling boy, desperate to offer comfort. Tears streamed down his face as he screamed for his brother. She reached out a hand, stunned to feel the chill on his soaked shoulder.

“I can feel him,” she gasped. “He’s real.”

Mira pulled her eyes away from the river. “That doesn’t make sense. We couldn’t just a few minutes ago.” She snapped, frustration bubbling in her chest. “So why now? None of this can be real.” 

“Then why does it feel real?” Rumi murmured, eyes locked on the boy. Even though they were still dry, she could still feel the cold in the air, the smell rain and mud pressing around them. “It’s like we’re really here.”

Zoey crouched beside her. “So, what is this then? A memory? A nightmare?” 

“I have no idea,” Mira muttered from behind. Her voice was sharp but uncertain. “We’re still in the demon realm – probably. Who knows how anything works down here.”

Zoey traced the mist curling over the riverbank. “Well whatever it is, how are we supposed to help him?”

Rumi frowned, unsure of the answer. Behind her, Mira groaned loudly. “How do we even know if that’s actually him at all? What if this is just Gwi-ma messing with us?”

Rumi shook her head. “I don’t think we’re the ones he’s trying to hurt right now,” She glanced at the distressed boy beside her.

She took a deep breath before continuing, “Jinu… he told me Gwi-ma uses their darkest memories to torture them. He uses their shame, their pain, to keep them under his control.”

“And what? You just believe everything he told you?” Mira retorted.

“I believe what I saw.” Rumi replied evenly, meeting Mira’s tense gaze. 

Zoey bit her lip, memories of the idol awards creeping back.

“I heard him...” she began, quietly. “After you left, Rumi… we were vulnerable. He knew exactly what to say to hurt me. Don’t you remember, Mira?” 

Mira’s scowled, eyes to the ground. Gwi-ma’s words hurt more than she wanted to admit. She still couldn’t believe she let herself be manipulated by that demon in the first place. She was supposed to be unbreakable and she failed. Zoey reached out, taking her hand. Mira exhaled shakily. 

They turned back to the young boy. His screams had faded to quiet sobs as he continued to stare at the dark water.

“What if this is Gwi-ma’s punishment for their failures as the Saja Boys?” Zoey spoke softly.

Rumi hesitated. “That… actually make sense. Trapped in their own worst memories. Tortured by their own pain and guilt...” 

For a long moment, none of them spoke. Only Abby’s soft hiccupping filled the space. 

Mira’s chest tightened at the thought of their suffering. She shouldn’t care. They were still demons. Dangerous and selfish. But the ache in chest refused to agree.

Zoey sighed. “I just don’t understand… How we supposed to help if everything keeps changing? One second we can touch him, the next we can’t. None of this makes sense.” 

“Well if these really are just memories, then it’s not like we can change anything, right?” Mira said steadily.

“But it’s not real!” Zoey shot back, thoughts racing faster than her words. “We haven’t actually time travelled – at least, I don’t think we have. So what are we doing here? If we can’t change anything, then how do we get Abby out? Is that even actually him, or is just a memory of him? And why can we touch some things sometimes, and then nothing at other times?” Her words began to tumble over themselves before she finally gasped for air.

“Zoey, calm down.” Mira urged.

“I… I don’t know how to answer any of that.” Rumi admitted.

Mist thickened around them, swirling at their legs. 

“Rumi…” Zoey’s voice dropped. “It’s happening again.”

The world blurred. The river’s roar dulled into silence, leaving only the trembling boy. Then suddenly, he looked up. His tear-streaked face turned to Rumi, eyes glassy and fearful but full of something else they hadn’t seen yet. Recognition. 

“Help me…” he whispered.

Before they could move, the mist swallowed him whole. 

Silence. The trio froze in emptiness.

Zoey stared at the spot where he’d been, mind racing. “He saw us! He actually saw us! Holy sh-”

“Zoey!” Mira cut her off.

“Okay, okay,” Rumi breathed, rising to her feet. “This is a good. It means part of Abby is trapped here. A part that we can reach. If we can get to him again – make him realise that we’re real and here to help – we might be able to wake him up.” The last part came out more like a question, but the determination on Rumi’s face left no room for doubt. 

Mira and Zoey exchanged a glance, then nodded in unison. 

Zoey gasped as the ground began to trembled beneath them. A low hum pulsed through air as the world began to reform once again through the heavy mist.

 

Rumi blinked, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting.

They were back inside the same house as before. The walls were darkened, warped with age and damp. Floorboards creaked underfoot, groaning with every hesitant step. The air felt heavier too – stale and sour, as if grief itself had soaked into the wood.

The next memories blurred together, each one worse than the last. 

They watched as Abby’s family crumbled after his brother’s death. The home that once echoed with the childlike teasing now reverberated only with anger and blame. His older brothers lashed out in fits of rage, screaming curses at the youngest.

Useless. Mistake. Murderer.

Every insult cut deeper than the last, every shove harder, until Abby was left huddled in a corner, bruised and quiet. 

Worst of all was his father. The man’s fury never seemed to fade. Every scene brought another explosion of violence, another cruel word, another blow. Abby endured them all in silence, his tears long since dried, eyes hollow.

No matter how they tried, the girls couldn’t interfere. Each attempt to step in warped the memory, pushing them out until they were nothing but helpless observers to the onslaught of pain. 
“You should’ve drowned instead!” The man’s words thundered, dripping with hatred.

Zoey flinched in response, her voice thick with emotion. “Stop it!” She clamped her hands over her ears, eyes squeezed shut, refusing to see the next strike. Rumi moved closer, placing a steady hand on her shoulder. She tried to stay strong, but the tears in Rumi’s eyes betrayed her.

Mira stood rigid, fury burning in her chest. “Get away from him!” She shouted, knowing it was useless. Her voice cut through the air anyway, raw and shaking. “He’s just a kid! You monster!”
The father didn’t respond. He never did. The scene repeated itself again and again, each cycle slightly different as both Abby and his father aged, but the rage remained. The same blows fell, the same silence followed. The same helplessness clawed at their throats.

“This is useless!” Mira’s voice cracked as she tore her gaze away from the enraged man. “We can’t do anything!” 

Her words hung heavy in the stagnant air. The sound of the beating dulled to a hollow echo as the world around them began to shudder. The floorboards groaned, walls twisted, and edges dissolving into mist once more.

Rumi glanced up, heart pounding and face wet. “Something’s changing.” She watched as the father’s form faded into nothing – praying they would never have to see his face again. 
Zoey lowered her hands from her ears, trembling. “Please tell me we’re done with that place…”

The mist consumed the room entirely, then shifted, pulling them into a new vision.

------

The stench hit them first. Smoke, sweat and the faint, sickly scent of rot clung to the air, thick enough to taste. Zoey gagged slightly, forcing the bile back down her throat. A biting wind howled across an endless frozen plain, carrying with it the sound of distant shouting and clanging metal. Rows of tents stretched endlessly in every direction.
Men trudged between them, faces hollowed by exhaustion and hunger.

The girls stood at the edge of the camp, taking it all in.

“What… is this place?” Zoey whispered, rubbing her arms against the cold. So far, they had barely left Abby’s home – let alone the village. This was something new.

Mira’s eyes swept over the camp, catching sight of soldiers huddled around fires, sharpening rusted blades, or sitting motionless in the snow. “I recognise the uniform,” She said, her brow furrowed. “The crest – those are royal troops. Joseon’s army during the Qing invasion.”

Zoey blinked. “The… Qing invasion?”

Mira nodded grimly. “Seventeen hundreds. The Manchu forces pushed south through the peninsula. Joseon had no chance. Whole villages were emptied overnight. Boys as young as fifteen were sent to fight.” She gestured to the rows of tents. “Most of them never came home.”

The weight of her words hung heavy in the icy air. 

Rumi’s gaze followed hers. “So this is another memory,” she murmured. “Abby’s here somewhere.”

“But where?” Zoey asked, voice tight, as they moved cautiously through the camp. None of the soldiers seemed to notice them. 

Rumi didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes tracked a weary line of soldiers trudging past until she caught sight of a smaller figure crouched beside a dying fire. His face was thinner now, older, but still far too young for the uniform that hung loose on his shoulders. Another boy sat close beside him, both clutching a handful of rice wrapped in cloth.

Rumi’s breath hitched. “There.” She pointed, quickening her pace. The others followed close behind.

“He looks barely sixteen.” Zoey whispered in disbelief.
The other boy nudged Abby and said something they couldn’t quite hear. Abby gave a faint laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 
Rumi took another hesitant step forward. “He must have been conscripted…”

“So they really did use children?” Zoey’s voice trembled. 

“They didn’t have a choice.” Mira said bitterly. “The Qing forces were advancing faster than anyone could handle. When a country’s desperate, they stop seeing soldiers as people. They just see bodies to throw at the front line.”

Before Zoey could respond, the ground began to rumble. The sounds of horns and distant screams tore through the air as the frozen plain dissolved around them, the memory twisting into chaos.

They stood amid battle. The world had blurred into sounds – metal striking metal, the screams of dying men. The earth trembled beneath them as cannons thundered across the plain. The sky hung dull and grey, heavy with smoke and falling ash.

Abby was there again; his face streaked with soot and fear. He moved stiffly through the haze, staff clutched tight in shaking hands. Around him, soldiers shouted orders, their voices lost in the roar of battle. The air reeked of iron, blood, and smoke. 

“Holy shit! ” Zoey shouted, stumbling back a step. She ducked instinctively as arrows fired overhead. “This is-”

“Real!” Mira finished, dodging men as they charged past. “Too real!”

Through the fog, Abby froze. His gaze locked on an enemy rushing towards him. He stumbled back, tripping over bodies already half-buried in mud and slush. 

“Move!” Rumi shouted at him; her words lost in the chaos.

Mira rushed forward as the attacker raised his weapon. But before she could intervene, the same young soldier from before appeared. His blade flashed once, swift and final. The enemy collapsed wordlessly to the ground, lifeless.

Zoey’s breath hitched, unable to look away from the growing pool of blood. 

The soldier grabbed Abby’s shoulder, yanking him to his feet. Both were breathing hard, faces streaked with grime and sweat. 

“Focus, Seon! We have to keep moving!” 

Rumi clutched at her chest. “He saved him.” 

But the relief didn’t last. Mira’s eyes widened. “Wait- look out!”

The sound that followed was wet and low. Steel cut through flesh. For a moment, no one moved. 

A single tear cut across the soldier’s cheek as the blade was withdrawn. He crumpled, motionless on the ground.

“Ji-won!” Abby cried, dropping beside the body, fingers trembling as he pressed them against the wound, as if he could stop the bleeding.

Around them, the battled raged on, but to the girls, the world seemed to hold its breath. Rumi covered her mouth. Zoey’s eyes glistened. Even Mira’s tough expression faltered.  

“This can’t be happening…” Zoey whispered, swallowing hard as nausea crept up her throat. 

A shadow moved behind Abby. Steel flashed.

“Abby!” Rumi screamed.

He ducked just in time, swinging blindly before running off. The world splintered around them. Bodies, smoke, cannon fire – all twisting into a chaotic blur. 

The girls chased after him, forcing themselves to ignore the carnage. The air thick with fire and death as his comrades fell around them. 

“Where’s he going?” Zoey shouted, barely audible over the roar of battle.

Ahead of them, Abby began to fade, swallowed by the mist.

Rumi slowed. Zoey and Mira stopping close behind. The battlefield melted away, leaving only swirling fog.

“Not again,” Mira groaned.

Then, as suddenly as had begun, the chaos stilled. The fog thinned, the ground solid beneath their feet, silence pressing in.

Zoey let out a shaky gasp. They were still in the same field, now quiet. Snow stretched endlessly, grey with ash and blood. Scattered bodies lay frozen in stillness. 

“They were all so young…” Rumi whispered, her nostrils wrinkling at the rancid air.

“This… this isn’t fair…” Zoey stuttered, squeezing her eyes shut as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Tell me this didn’t actually happen.” 

Mira said nothing, jaw tight, eyes locked forward on the wreckage. Then a movement in her periphery caught her attention. 

“There,” She breathed, pointing toward a lone figure staggering through the wreckage. Abby.

He moved like a ghost, each step heavier, as though the weight of the world pressed down on him. Zoey’s heart twisted. She had never expected to feel sympathy for a demon. But this boy defied everything she thought she knew about their kind. He wasn’t always a monster. He had been human first.

Abby stopped abruptly, gaze falling on a figure buried in the snow.

Rumi breath hitched. “That’s… the soldier. The one who saved him.”

The boy’s body was still. Blood beneath him long cooled, lips tinged blue, eyes staring blankly at the grey sky. 

A strangled sound escaped Abby’s throat. His knees buckled, and he fell beside the soldier. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair from his friend’s face and closed his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, voice breaking.

The girls stood motionless, unable to look away.

“He didn’t deserve this.” Mira spoke finally, her voice soft.

Zoey turned to her, tears stinging her eyes, but Mira’s gaze stayed fixed on the kneeling boy. 

Rumi said nothing – only watched as the mist began to rise again, curling around Abby’s form until he was swallowed by it once more, leaving behind only the echo of his grief.

------

The fog thickened, swallowing the battlefield whole. Silence stretched in every direction until, at the edge of the haze, a lone figure emerged, trudging forward with his head bowed.

Abby had aged since the battle. No longer a boy but a young man. His shoulders heavy beneath his uniform, sleeves crusted with old blood and ash. The girls followed at a careful distance. Abby kept his head down; his pace slow but steady. 

“Do you think he can see us now?” Zoey whispered. “He did last time, when he was alone… so maybe…” She trailed off.

Rumi furrowed her brow and reached out, only for her fingers to pass through him like smoke. Mira exhaled, sharp with frustration.

“Not yet,” Rumi said softly, falling back into step with the others.

They walked on in silence, until the outline of a house appeared through the haze. Its beams sagged from years of rain and neglect. Abby stopped at the door, staring for a long moment before lifting his hand to knock. 

The door swung open before his knuckles hit the wood. 

His father stood in the doorway, tall and weathered, grey hair framing a face still hard as stone. Mira’s jaw tightened. The sight alone made her blood boil. If only she could give him a piece of her mind. Make him feel every bit of pain he’d inflicted on his son.

“You’re alive.” The old main said flatly.

“Yes, Abeoji.”

Silence pressed between them. The girls held their breath until finally, his father stepped aside.

They followed them inside, watching Abby obediently sit when told – back straight, hands trembled faintly in his lap. Rumi’s chest tightened how he flinched at every sound. A helplessness kind of anger pooled in her.

The father set a small bowl of rice before Abby, who bowed his head in thanks, though his eyes never lifted.

“I hear what happened on the ridge.” His father said at last. 

Abby’s lips parted. “I-” 

A raised hand silenced him. “You ran. You left your comrades to die.”

“I-I tried to-” 

The table shook under his father’s fist, making Zoey jump back. Rumi inhaled sharply through her teeth, while Mira’s fists tightened until her nails bit her palms.

“You failed them! You failed your blood, your training, your name. You failed me!”

“You don’t know anything!” Zoey blurted, stepping between the man and his son before she could stop herself. For a moment the air seemed to shimmer, as if the memory had heard her. 
Abby’s eyes shot up. He was looking straight at her. 

“Abby?” She called softly. His eyes widened. He had hear her. 

Rumi and Mira exchanged a sharp glance, but before anyone could move, the father strode  forward, passing through Zoey as if he were made of smoke. He loomed over his son, voice dripping with venom. “You should have died on that ridge with honour. At least then, I could have been proud.” 

He pointed to the door. “Get out of my sight.”

Abby didn’t move; his eyes stayed fixed on where the girls stood. “Abeoji-”

The father’s hand cracked across Abby’s face. The sound echoed through the small house. Zoey dropped to Abby’s side as he fell. 

“You have no right to call me that!” The man roared, seizing Abby by the throat and slamming him into the wall. 

Mira lunged forward, grabbing the man’s arms and pulling with all her strength, as if sheer will alone could pry him off. “Let him go!” She shouted, but her words fell on deaf ears. 

“Rumi! He’s gonna kill him!” Zoey screamed, panic threading her voice as she tugged at the older man’s fingers, trying to free Abby. Rumi darted forward, pressing herself between them, but nothing worked. The father’s grip didn’t falter, even as Abby’s lips began to turn blue and his gasps came in ragged, choking bursts.

“Appa… please-” Abby choked out, his voice thin beneath the man’s hold. His fingers clawed weakly at the elder’s sleeve, desperate for air.

“You are no son of mine!” The man thundered.

With one violent shove, he hurled Abby aside. The young soldier crashed to the floor, gasping for air as tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Now get out! Before I end you myself!” His father snarled.

There was no hesitation this time. Abby staggered to his feet, swaying as he stumbled for the exit.
 
“Wait! Abby!” Mira called, rushing to the doorway, her hand reaching into the fog as it spread around them. “We were so close!”

Zoey’s breath shook. “What else are we supposed to do! This isn’t working…”

Rumi stepped forward, placing a steady hand on her shoulder. Her own voice was soft, but firm. “We will reach him,” she said, though doubt weighed every word. “You saw how  he looked right at us. He heard you, Zoey. We’re getting closer. We have to be.”

 

------

 

As the world came together again, it was clear another year or so had passed in Abby’s age. They found him by the riverbank as the last light of day spilled across the water like fading embers. He sat still, hands curled on his knees, eyes fixed on the rushing current – the only sound in a world that felt hollow. 

Then, a whisper broke the silence, curling through the air like smoke.

Zoey’s head snapped up. “Did you hear that?”

Mira turned slowly, eyes narrowing. “That definitely wasn’t the wind.”

“Poor child… always trying. But never good enough.”

Abby’s head spun. “Who’s there?” He demanded, voice raw. 

Zoey’s stomach twisted. “That… that sounds like-” 

“Gwi-ma.” Rumi finished quickly.

“All your life, you’ve obeyed. You gave everything. Yet they called you weak. Coward. Useless.”

“If there were ever a time to wake him up,” Mira snapped, looking to her leader. “now would probably be good!”

“But what if you could change that? I can make you strong. I can give you everything your father wished for.”

“Who are you?” Abby’s voice cracked.

“A friend. One who offers you the power you’ve been denied.”

Rumi rushed forward, gripping Abby’s shoulders. “Abby! Please, don’t listen! He’s lying to you!” She searched his face for any sign of recognition. “You’re stronger than this!”

But Abby’s eyes had gone distant. “Power…” he murmured, small and lost. 

“Seon-woo!” Zoey knelt beside him. “You don’t need to do this! You’re not what he says you are!”

Gwi-ma’s words coiled through the air, intoxicating and cold. “You could finally make your father the proud man you long for him to be.” 

“What… what do I have to do?” he asked hesitantly. 

Rumi’s heart pounded. “This is still a memory,” She breathed, almost to herself. “I don’t know if we can even stop it!”

“If we don’t reach him now, it’ll only get worse!” Mira shouted from Abby’s side.

“Say yes, Seon-woo. Take back your worth.”

Rumi shook him harder, desperation in her voice. “Abby, please- don’t”

“Do you accept my offer?” 

Silence hung, fragile and heavy.

 

“Yes.”

 

The moment the word left his lips, the mist ignited with an unnatural glow. A sharp wind tore through the riverbank, carrying the scream of rage and agony.

The girls shielded their eyes. Zoey stumbled back, shouting over the noise. “What’s happening?!”

When the light finally dimmed, the world was deathly still. Abby stood at the edge of the water, chest heaving. His eyes shimmered faintly gold, veins pulsing beneath the skin.

“No..” Rumi’s face paled, her voice tight. “We’re too late.”

Zoey’s stomach churned, hands curling into fists at her sides.

Mira pressed her lips into a thin line. “So he actually… gave up his soul for muscles.” She murmured, a hint of wry humour in her tone, though her eyes never left the man’s impossibly toned form. Before coming here, she had mocked the demon as vain and selfish for trading everything for something so superficial. But now, after everything they had witnessed, she wasn’t so sure. 

Rumi’s expression hardened, her voice low and sharp. “He didn’t know what Gwi-ma was really asking him to give up.” 

 

The mist shifted again, rippling like disturbed water. The forest melted away, replaced by the shadowed outline of Abby’s village.

Zoey grabbed Rumi’s wrist as they moved forward. “We can still stop this, right? We can still reach him?”

Rumi hesitated; her gaze locked on the figure walking ahead. “I… I hope so.”

They followed him through the narrow path leading home, noticing how villagers shrank away as he passed, whispering prayers under their breath. The air around him seemed colder with every step, their own breaths visible in the dim light. 

“Look at them,” Zoey whispered. “They’re terrified of him.”

“I can’t believe he came back here again…” Mira’s voice was tight with anger, thinking of the old man who they'd just witnessed nearly kill his own son.

Abby reached the house, stopping at the gate. His father stood in the doorway, rigid as stone, his face caught between disbelief and fury. 

“You dare return here after your disgrace?” The older man spat. 

Abby’s lips twisted in a faint, bitter smile. “Disgrace? No, Abeoji. I’ve become what you wanted. I am strong now.”

The girls exchanged uneasy glances as the ground trembled beneath his step.

“Abby…” Zoey whispered. “You don’t have to prove it to him.”

But he didn’t hear her.

 “What have you done?” His father demanded, stepping back, fear flickering in his eyes.

“Appa-”

“You are not my son.” 

Mira’s throat rumbled, anger burning behind her eyes. “That bastard! If only I could smash his face in right now!” She hissed under her breath.

Abby froze. His face hardening as the gold in his eyes flared brighter. In a sudden flash of anger, he slammed his fist against the gatepost, the sharp crack echoing through across the quiet village. 

Zoey stumbled back at the outburst, her breath catching. Rumi’s shoulders stiffened, watching as a faint ripple of markings crawl up Abby’s arms, vanishing almost instantly.  

Without another word, Abby stalked away, swallowed by the mist that devoured the world whole, leaving only the echo of his anger behind. The girls had no time to react as the ground shifted beneath them, plunging them back into chaos. 

 

The battlefield was a storm of death. Mud churned with ash and blood, cannon fire shook the Earth, screams tore through the air. 

“Oh god! Not again!” Zoey shouted, cowering as arrows whistled overhead. 

Mira pressed herself low as explosions shook the ground. Her eyes caught Abby moving through the carnage, muscles flexed unnaturally, every movement precise and deadly. 

His body was battered, blood pooling at his feet from countless injuries – but he didn’t stop. He swung relentlessly; driven by a desperate need to prove he was enough.

“He’s gonna get himself killed!” Mira shouted, pushing forward.

Rumi pressed her hands over her ears, trying to block the sounds of agony, until a shadow caught her eye.

“Mira!” She screamed, lunging to pull her friend back as a projectile tore past them. They crashed to the ground, hearts pounding.

The projectile struck Abby. Fire and smoke erupted, swallowing him from sight. 

“No!” Mira scrambled to her feet, panic clawing at her throat.

 

The world shifted, as if time itself rewound. Abby reappeared at the front lines, still alive, still bleeding, still alone. His eyes flickering with despair, a crushing sense of entrapment weighing down every movement.

The girls froze, rooted in shock and confusion. Mira’s eyes widened at the cannons lining up again.

“Abby! Look out!” she shouted. For a fleeting moment, he glanced toward her – only to vanish again in a cloud of fire and ash.

Zoey screamed, hands over her ears, eyes squeezed shut.

Once again, Abby reappeared. Again and again, each death resetting the nightmare.

“This is… It’s like he’s trapped in a loop!” Mira hissed, teeth clenched. 

“He can still hear us! We just have to reach him before it resets again.” Rumi’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp with determination.

“Abby! Get away from there!” Zoey cried. Terror flashed in his eyes, but his body moved as if pulled by invisible strings, unable to break free of the loop. 

This time, Mira didn’t hesitate. 

“Mira! What are you doing?!” Rumi shouted, panic rising.

Mira launched herself, propelled by fear and determination. She tackled Abby out of the blast’s path. The two hit the ground with a grunt. Mira’s eyes took in the full extent of his injuries – blood seeping wherever she looked.

Zoey and Rumi dropped beside them seconds later. Rumi’s hand hovered over Abby’s trembling form. Zoey pressed a steady hand to his shoulder, while Mira pulled his upper body against her knees.

“Abby, listen to me.” She said, voice firm and commanding. “We’re here to help! We’re here to set you free!”

His chest heaved. The faint gold in his eyes flickered, purple patterns pulsing beneath his skin. The fog began to coil, tugging at him, trying to drag him back. 

“You’re not alone,” Zoey said, voice strong. “We’re right here. We won’t leave you!”

Rumi leaned in, gripping his shaking hand. “None of this is real! It’s all part of Gwi-ma’s torture. You have to wake up! You have to fight back!”

Abby’s eyes fluttered, confusion and terror warring as the mist thickened, curling closer. His breathing was laboured and wet, each inhale rattling with pain.

“Seon-woo! Don’t let it take you again!” Rumi pleaded.

“You’re stronger than him! Fight it!” Mira shouted, holding him tightly. She reached out her free hand to his cheek, forcing his eyes to meet hers. She felt the way he leant in to her touch, a flicker of recognition and defiance breaking through the fear. The rigid tension in his shoulders softened slightly as he gave a small, trembling nod.

A shiver ran down his spine, and for a moment, the oppressive mist wavered, recoiling from the strength of his own will. His hand twitched in Rumi’s anchoring grasp. The trio’s voices wrapped around him, steady and grounding, urging him to fight back. 

 

Abby gasped, as though drawing his first real breath in centuries. The golden glow flared brighter; clarity pierced the torment Gwi-man had woven. 

With a final shudder, the memory collapsed. Fire, blood, screams – all vanished. Abby slumped in the girls’ arms, exhausted but alive. Well… not technically alive, Zoey thought, noting the faint lilac tint spreading across his skin, intricate patterns glowing a deeper purple.

Mira held him steady while Zoey brushed the sweat and blood from his face, heart pounding.

Rumi exhaled a long, shuddering sigh, her grip unwavering. The fog lifted, replaced by the harsh expanse of the demon realm. It was quiet now, the oppressive weight of memories gone.

Abby’s chest rose and fell unevenly, but steady. He was free… at least for now.  

 

Chapter Text

The quiet that followed was deafening. For the first time since stepping into Abby’s nightmare, there were no screams, no smoke, no blood-soaked earth. Only the whispering wind of the demon realm, dry and strange in its stillness.

Rumi sat motionless, her hand still clutching Abby’s even after the fog had long since cleared. The pulse beneath her fingers was faint, but there. Not alive, but whatever counted as that in this place.

Mira exhaled slowly, cradling the resting demon’s head on her lap while running a soothing hand through his dark pink hair. “We did it,” she murmured, half to herself.

Zoey sank back with a long sigh, wiping the sweat from her brow. “Thank god...”

The three sat in silence for a long moment, dazed and unsteady. The adrenaline that had kept them upright was fading fast, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.

The endless stretch of jagged black stone and faint mist of the demon realm surrounded them. The sky was neither night nor day, just an eerie, dull violet. The air shimmered faintly with the lingering hum of demonic energy. High above, the Honmoon pulsed faintly, a reminder of their strength.

Abby lay still, his breathing shallow but steady. Yet, his lilac-shaded skin looked pale with weakness, deep purple patterns prominently spread all over his body. His face was calm now, no longer twisted in pain or fear.

Rumi glanced at the others. “We should make camp,” she said quietly, gently releasing Abby’s hand before rising to her feet.

Zoey nodded slowly, pushing herself up. “Yeah. Probably a good idea before one of us passes out.”

They moved quickly but quietly, rummaging through their packs to set up sleeping bags. Rumi fetched kindling from a sparse, brittle brush and ignited a small flame. Zoey watched it shimmered bright blue – unnatural, but warm.

The girls worked together to settle Abby into Mira’s sleeping bag, who had willingly volunteered it, much to the others’ surprise. Rumi sat cross-legged beside him, watching the faint rise and fall of his chest.

Zoey broke a ration bar in half and passed a piece to Mira. “Do you think he’s gonna wake up soon?”

Mira shook her head, taking a bite before answering. “I don’t know... I doubt it. We just watched him go through hell – literally.”

Zoey stomach turned at the reminder. “Do you think it’s going to be like that for all of them…” she asked quietly. Even without saying their names, Rumi understood. Would the other Saja Boys be suffering as Abby had?

“We have to prepare ourselves for that possibility.” Rumi said, resting her elbows on her knees. “If we know what’s coming, then we can free them faster.”

Mira glanced at the sleeping demon. “Maybe he can tell us what to expect… I mean, they’ve probably all known each other for hundreds of years, right?”

Rumi hummed in agreement. “When he wakes up, we’ll ask.”

 

The three of them fell silent again. The fire crackled weakly in the cold, stale air. Mira’s gaze stayed on Abby. Even unconscious, there was discipline in him. His hands half-curled as if holding a weapon, his jaw tight, the stubborn, self-destructive drive that wouldn’t let him stop, lingered in his stillness.

“How long do you think we’ve been here?” Zoey asked, eyes drifting to the rolling dark clouds.

“Hard to tell… At least a day or two...” Mira replied, peeling her gaze from Abby to meet her friends.

Zoey stifled a yawn. “No wonder we’re all exhausted…”

Rumi’s eyes softened. “We should get some rest. I’ll take first watch.”

Mira frowned. “Are you sure? I’m happy to-”

“I’m sure,” Rumi interrupted with a soft smile. “Use my sleeping bag. I’ll wake you if anything changes.”

Mira let out a soft sigh, conceding, and slowly rose to her feet.

 

Time passed in slow waves. The fire burned low. Rumi remained alert, eyes occasionally flicking to Abby. She noticed every faint twitch of his fingers, every flinch that rippled across his face. She wondered how much of his torment he would remember? Would he remember that they were here to help? Or would he still see them as enemies?

Soft footsteps drew her attention. Zoey appeared beside her, notebook in hand.

“Hey,” Zoey’s whispered.

“Hey,” Rumi replied softly. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Zoey shook her head slowly, eyes drifting to the notebook “No… Too much on my mind…” Pages were filled with hasty, cramped scribbles.

Rumi titled her head to read what her friend had written.

“I’ve just got so many questions… I didn’t want to forget any.” Zoey admitted, chewing on her lip. “Do you think… we made it worse? Pulling him out like that?”

Rumi shook her head firmly. “He was dying, Zoey. Over and over again. There was no worse.”

A rustle in the shadows made them tense. Bright yellow eyes pierced the darkness, then two familiar figures emerged – Derpy and Sussie.

Rumi exhaled, relief washing over her. Zoey’s face lit up. “Oh my god, I almost forgot about you guys! Where have you been?”

Derpy padded closer, Sussie perched comfortably on his head. Rumi outstretched her hand, letting the feline to nuzzle against her palm.

“Hey buddy,” Rumi murmured, the soft cerulean fur sending a wave of calm through her.
Sussie hopped down to settle beside Abby’s still form. Derpy followed close behind, titling his head back to Rumi.

“He’s okay,” Rumi reassured, as if understanding their silent concern. “Resting.” She placed a gentle hand on Derpy’s fur as she spoke.

Derpy shuffled again, moving protectively close, tail draped over Abby’s chest. Their presence seemed to soothe him; his fingers relaxed slightly as he leaned ever so lightly into Derpy’s warmth.

Rumi smiled briefly, returning to her spot besides Zoey, who had already returned to scribbling in her notebook.

For a moment, the pair sat in silence, only broken by Derpy’s soft snores.

“Why don’t you go rest, Rumi?” Zoey suggested softly. “I’ll stand guard for a while.”

Rumi shook her head. “No, it’s okay. You should-”

“I’m not gonna be able to sleep anyway, even if I tried.” Zoey cut her off, placing a reassuring hand on Rumi’s shoulder. “It’s ok, I got this. You get some rest.”

Rumi gave a tired smile and moved to Zoey’s unoccupied sleeping bag, finally settling down. Zoey exhaled in relief, knowing her leader needed it most.

Even before coming here, Rumi had barely slept, fighting against constant nightmares and spiralling thoughts. Zoey was no stranger to the night terrors. She’d had her own fair share after what had been the past several months.

Her mind drifted to Mystery. In another lifetime, maybe they could’ve made things work out. In a world without demons and hunters. In a world where they weren’t sworn enemies.

Zoey felt a flutter of hope at the thought of seeing him again soon. But after the last time they had met, she hoped he wouldn’t still hate her. She was doing her job, after all, and he had attack first.

Her thoughts drifted further: what had his life been like before becoming a demon? Was it just as horrible as Abby’s was? Would it be worse? How old was he really? Did his past explain why he hid his face all the time?

Zoey’s heart fluttered again. His face really was gorgeous, even as a demon.

She shook the thought away as Derpy’s gaze caught hers. The tiger seemed to almost sense her worries, tilting his head.

Zoey sighed and opened a fresh page in her notebook, jotting down plans for navigating the demon realm and rescuing the others. The blue flames licked lazily as the gentle breathing of her friends kept her grounding, preventing her from spiralling again.

 

What felt like another few hours passed before Mira awoke with a quiet jolt. She quickly moved over to Zoey, taking in Derpy and Sussie’s return with a raised eyebrow, before urging Zoey back to rest so she could take over watch.

The air in the demon realm made Mira uneasy. Still, she remained vigilant, scanning constantly for any signs of danger or movement.

 

Time slipped by again, though the world around them remained unchanged. Rumi and Zoey awoke and joined Mira beside the fire. Silence stretched, broken only by the soft crackle of the flames and the hum of an unnatural breeze. This realm was strange, shifting and deceptive. Time didn’t flow properly here.

 

A sudden gasp – sharp, ragged – tore through the quiet. Abby jolted upright, glowing golden eyes wide with panic.

Mira reacted first, rushing over with an outstretched hand.

He scrambled backward, eyes wild, breath coming in rapid, broken gasps. Every muscle was taut, ready to fight or flee.

“Hey, hey – it’s okay!” Zoey said quickly, raising her hands. “You’re safe, it’s us!”

His gaze darted between them, body trembling as he tried to process her words. The glow of his patterns flickered erratically.

“It’s okay, easy,” Rumi said gently, hands raised in surrender. “We’re not here to hurt you. It’s over.”

He didn’t seem to hear her. His voice came out hoarse, raw. “S-stay back! Don’t- don’t come any closer!” He raised his hands, shaking.

Mira stepped forward cautiously, stopping when Abby flinched and staggered backwards. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just broke you free from Gwi-ma’s torture, remember? You’re safe.”

Abby’s eyes flicked to her, confusion clouding the golden glow. His breaths were uneven, shallow. He looked down at his hands — the patterns stretching across them, but no blood — and back at them, trembling.

“This isn’t real,” he muttered. “It’s another trick. He’s trying to-”

“It’s not a trick.” Rumi’s voice cut through, calm but firm. “Look at me. We’re really here. I promise”

His head snapped toward her, breathing easing ever so slightly.

She met his gaze, unwavering. “Seon-woo.”

The name set him off again. He let out a low growl, fists clenching.

“Don’t call me that!” He screamed, his demon voice pressing through as his patterns flared. The girls stepped back instinctively.

“He’s dead. He wasn’t strong enough. He was a coward. Weak. Pathetic. Useless.” Abby stumbled over his words, pressing his hands to his head, face twisted in pain.

“Abby, stop.” Mira pushed closer, close enough to touch him.

Derpy nuzzled his face against Abby’s leg. The demon flinched, then looked down to meet the tiger’s gaze. His eyes softened, mouth curving into a pained frown. His knees shook before he crumpled to the floor, leaning heavily into Derpy’s fur, arms wrapped around the creature, face buried.

The trio watched, tense but waiting. Gradually, the tension in Abby’s shoulders eased. His breathing, though shuddered, slowed to a smoother rhythm.

Mira sank to her knees beside him, careful not to startle him again. Zoey and Rumi stayed close, ready for any sudden outburst.

Minutes passed before Abby pulled away slightly from Derpy, blinking slowly. Disoriented but aware, he met the hunters’ gaze in turn – Zoey’s uncertain smile, Rumi’s calm, Mira’s cautious concern – before lowering his eyes to the patterns tracing his hands.

“Abby?” Rumi asked hesitantly.

“Why are you here?” He whispered, voice raw. “How… how are you here?”

“We came to help,” she said clearly. “Derpy brought us. He told us you were all in danger and-”
“But why?” He cut her off, a flash of anger in his voice. “Why do you care? Why risk everything? After everything we did…” He fell silent, eyes narrowing towards the ground.

“I’m not gonna lie to you. I didn’t want to come here” Mira admitted flatly. “As far as I was concerned, all demons deserved to be dead or rotting in hell.”

“But these two,” she gestured to Rumi and Zoey, “saw something in you worth saving… and I guess I’m starting to see it now too.” She rolled her eyes before steadying them on the demon.
Abby finally met her gaze. “Everyone deserves a second chance. Just don’t make me regret giving you one.” Her tone sharpened at the last part, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“I…” He trailed off, eyes down. “Thank you.”

Zoey placed a hand on Mira’s shoulder, offering a soft smile to Abby, who relaxed as Derpy pressed closer again.

Then his eyes widened, darting around. “Where are the others?” Panic flared instantly.

Rumi shook her head. “We haven’t found them yet. But we will. Now that you’re-”

“We- we have to find them!” Abby tried to rise, legs wobbling.

Derpy steadied him while Mira rose beside him, gripping Abby’s shoulder.

“Woah, calm down.” She said firmly. “we’re going to find them.”

“No! You don’t understand!” He pushed against her weakly. “I’m supposed to protect them! I-I’m supposed to-”

“You’ll be no use to any of them if you’re dead on your feet!” Mira snapped.

“I’m already dead.” Abby shot back. “We need to go now!”

“I promise. We’re going to find them.” Rumi reassured. “We’re not giving up now. But we need to work together, okay?”

Abby’s jaw tightening. Firelight reflected off his violet-tinted skin, making him look fragile yet otherworldly. He let out a shaky sigh, straightening his shoulders, and nodding obediently.

After a pause, he asked. “So… what’s the plan, then? It’s not safe to stay in one place for too long down here.”

“You’re in no condition to move,” Rumi said firmly. “You need to rest, at least until—”

“I don’t need rest,” Abby snapped automatically, then winced. His hand went to his ribs as the pain reminded him otherwise.

Mira crossed her arms. “We just watched you get blown up several times. Sit down before I make you.”

He met her stare, challenging it. Mira held strong, one brow raised and lips pursed. Abby sighed in defeat. “You’re worse than Jinu.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Mira said, earning a small snort from Zoey. Rumi smiled sadly at the mention of Jinu.

 

The next hour passed quietly, packing up gear and refuelling. Abby’s energy slowly returned, the purple hue of his skin settling into something steady.

“You should eat.” Rumi offered, handing him a ration.

Abby shook his head. “You know demons don’t need to eat, right?” He raised a brow in amusement. “Save it for yourself. Trust me, you’ll need it.”

Rumi pouted. “What do you mean you don’t eat? We’ve seen you guys before-”

“Well.. we can, but we don’t get hungry. It’s just kind of pointless. Nothing really tastes great anymore.” His stared into the fire, voice low.

Zoey perked up “So you guys haven’t got to experience how delicious Ramyeon is? What about tteokbokki?”

Abby’s expression turned halfway between confusion and amusement. “I don’t even know what that is.”

Zoey gasped dramatically. “You don’t know what tteokbokki is?!”

Mira rolled her eyes “Of course he doesn’t, Zoey. He’s ancient! Tteokbokki wouldn’t have even existed back then.”

“Ancient? I’m not ancient!” Abby protested.

“You’re like four hundred years old.” Mira retorted.

“Four hundred and five, actually. But I was only alive for twenty-four of those!” He smirked.

“Exactly. Ancient.” Mira deadpanned, folding her arms.

Abby opened his mouth to argue, but Rumi interjected. “Well, seems like we’re all feeling better.” She stood and stretched. “Everyone ready to get moving?”

The others nodded, rising to their feet. Abby winced slightly, unnoticed by the hunters.

“So… where to, Derpy?” Zoey asked, looking to the tiger for guidance. Derpy tilted his head, then looked at Abby. The girls followed his gaze.

Abby’s expression darkened slightly. “Sorry, big guy. I can’t sense them… We’re not close enough.”

“What does that mean? You can sense them?” Rumi asked.

He nodded. “Yeah… but only if they’re close. I can’t do it as well as Ro can, or Mystery even…” He trailed off, saddened by the reminder of his lost friends.

He recovered quickly, looking back to Derpy. “You’ll have to lead the way for now, alright?”
Derpy growled low in agreement and began moving forward, Sussie still perched atop his head.

The hunters followed, their footsteps soft against the shifting ground. Mira glanced back once at Abby, who lingered for a moment before falling in behind them. She wasn’t sure if she trusted him yet. Not fully. But that didn’t matter right now.

They had ground to cover and demons to find.

Abby exhaled, low and unsteady, keeping pace only slightly behind the trio. “Hold on, guys,” he murmured. “We’re going to find you,” determination flashing in his eyes. “No matter what it takes.”

With every step, Abby’s resolved hardened. He wouldn’t rest until they were all safe. Not until he had reunited his family once more.

Chapter Text

The demon realm stretched endlessly before them, a warped expanse of cracked earth and drifting mist that curled like smoke over the ground. An unnatural silence carried through the air, broken only by their hushed voices and steady crunch of boots after what felt like hours of wandering.

Rumi led beside Derpy, who lumbered forward slowly but surely. Zoey trailed close behind them, whispering something about turtles to Mira, who only half listened while her eyes scanned the horizon. Abby drifted silently at the rear, his expression distant as though pieces of his nightmare still clung stubbornly to him, refusing to let go.

 

Eventually, Mira slowed her pace and drifted back toward him.

“You holding up, okay?” she asked bluntly.

Abby startled, too lost in his own thoughts to notice her approach. “Huh? What- I mean… yes. I’m okay.”

Mira raised a brow, unimpressed. “Oh really?”

His golden eyes flicked toward her, guarded and exhausted.

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine,”

“Who said I was worried?” Mira smirked, earning a faint huff of amusement from the demon beside her.

He looked forward again, expression tightening. “I just want to find the others as soon as possible.”

“We’ll get to them,” Mira said confidently. “We have to be getting close. I’m sure of it.”

She fell into step beside him, noticing how tension clung to his every movement.

“You don’t have to pretend to be okay,” she added quietly. “Not after… everything we saw.”

Abby’s inhaled sharply. “You shouldn’t have had to see any of that. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t apologise for us walking into your memories,” Mira frowned. “It’s okay-”

“No,” He voice cut sharp, harsher than intended. “It’s not okay.”

He shook his head, fingers curling into fists.

“You saw all the worst parts of me. The things I did. The people I failed. And yet you’re still here, acting like I deserve your help after that.”

She blinked, taken aback.

“You can’t blame yourself for things out of your control, Abby. What we saw was your fault-”

“Not my fault?” His voice cracked, anger and hurt bleeding through. He turned to her, eyes glowing.

“I tore my family apart. I ruined everything I ever touched. I got every single person who trusted me killed.”

His breath trembled.

“I didn’t need to become a demon to be a monster. I was already a murderer. A curse.”

He swallowed hard, gaze dropping to the cracked earth as if ashamed to meet the hunter’s eyes.

“I…I don’t deserve your help. Or your sympathy.”

Mira stopped walking. Abby halted too, shoulders rigid.

Up ahead, Zoey and Rumi slowed, glancing back but hesitant to interrupt.

“Abby,” Mira said firmly. “Look at me.”

He hesitated, then obeyed.

“Do you really believe all of that?” She asked, voice steady.

He opened his mouth to argue, but she pushed ahead.

“You didn’t deserve what happened to you. Not any of it.”

His expression faltered, confused and pained.

“I’m sorry that you grew up in a home that didn’t know how to love you,” Mira said softly. “A home that never appreciated you. Never protected you. Never gave you the chance to be who you were.”
Her fingers tightened around her strap.
“I know what that feels like,” She confessed. “To feel unwanted. To feel like you’ll never be able to do anything right. Like the people who were supposed to love you only see the flaws.”
A deep frown pulling across Abby’s face. “Mira…”
“When people tear you down long enough,” she continued, “you start believing them when they say you’re the problem.”
She drew a slow breath.
“So yeah, you’ve done things you regret. Things you can’t take back.”
He flinched, but she didn’t soften her tone.
“But you’re not a curse. You were just a kid who was hurt over and over with no one there to stop it.”

A beat passed.

“And the fact that four hundred years later you still think you don’t deserve anything good?” Her voice gentled. “That just shows how deep the damage runs.”

Abby’s eyes burned. He looked away quickly.

“Just to be clear,” Mira added, tone shifting dryly, “I’m not apologising for stabbing those gorg- I mean distracting abs of yours and sending you back here.” She deadpanned.

He blinked. “Distracting?”

“Shut up,” She retorted. “You guys were literally trying to harvest our innocent fans souls for Gwi-ma. I’m not gonna pretend like that didn’t happen.”

He stiffened, rubbing absently at his abdomen.

“But,” she continued. “I am sorry for what Gwi-ma did to you. And I understand now that things weren’t always as black and white as it seemed. You didn’t have as much of a choice in any of it as I thought.”

Abby went quiet, letting her words settle.

“I’m still sorry,” he managed finally.

Mira nodded once, simple and matter-of-fact. “I know.”

She turned back towards the trail. Up ahead, Rumi and Zoey spun away quickly, pretending they hadn’t been listening to the entire conversation. Mira shook her head, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“Come on,” She said, glancing back to the demon beside her. “We still have a lot of ground to cover.”

 

---------------------------------------------

 

Time slipped by in long, uneven stretches as they continued forward through an unchanging landscape. Eventually, after seeing the pure exhaustion on all their faces, Rumi called for a rest.

The three girls sank into a loose semicircle, sharing small rations and sips of water while Derpy curled up nearby like a giant, fluffy boulder.

Abby stood slightly apart at first, scanning the horizon for danger, though his mind was clearly elsewhere. Zoey tapped his shoulder with a bright grin.

“Hey, come sit down. Brooding alone in Mira’s job,” she announced.

Mira shot her a flat look. “Wow. Rude.”

“She’s not wrong,” Rumi teased, receiving a scoff from the pink haired hunter.

Abby let out a small laugh – weak, but genuine. He raised both hands in an exaggerated surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m sitting.

“Good,” Zoey plopped back down beside him, practically vibrating with energy. “Because I’ve got so many questions. Like - how’d you get the name Abby? Do the other Saja Boys have human names too? How did you meet them all? How old are you guys? Do you age? Who’s the oldest? Is it based on when you got here, or is it like how old you were when you- uh- died? Do you guys still need to use the bathroom? Why is the demon realm so empty? Where are all the other demons? Are there other demon animals like Derpy and Sussie? Have you ever seen a demon turtle?”

Abby blinked at her, thoroughly confused.

“Zoey. Breathe.” Rumi sighed, elbowing the buzzing girl.

Zoey inhaled dramatically. “Right. Sorry.” She offered an awkward smile and nervous laugh.

“Uh… okay… ” Abby tried, rubbing the back of his neck. “I missed most of that but… no, we don’t age. No, we don’t use the bathroom. And no, I’ve never seen a demon turtle.”

Zoey leaned in eagerly, scribbling barely legible notes as he spoke. “So… what about the other Saja boys? How did you meet them?”

The air shifted instantly.

Abby’s fingers laced together anxiously. His expression closed off.

“I-… well, I met Jinu not long after I got here.” He began, slowly. “I wanted nothing to do with anyone, but he seemed to think something about me was worth keeping around. Probably thought my muscles would be good for protection.”

A small smile tugged at his mouth. Mira rolled her eyes at the mention of Abby’s toned form.

“For a while it was just the two of us. Ro didn’t show up until around a century later. He’d been a demon for a year or so before I found him.” Abby smiled faintly as he thought back to that day. “When I first saw him we both just stared at each other for a while. After that he basically followed me home. Jinu thought it was hilarious. But I’m glad he stayed… the past 300 years would have been real boring without him.”

Rumi couldn’t help but find it endearing the way Abby’s voice softened at the mention of Romance.
“I don’t actually know how long Baby’s been a demon,” he continued. “We’d seen him around for centuries. But he always preferred to keep to himself. Lashed out at anyone who got too close. He didn’t officially join our group until much later. Mystery brought him home one day asking if we could keep him. We were all just shocked he chose to stay.”

He huffed quietly.

“As of Mystery… Ro, Jinu and I found him the day he came down here. He was different to other new demons I’d seen before. Usually they’re aggressive and confused – lost in their own mind filled with shame and regret. But not Mystery… you think he’s quiet now? You should’ve seen him then. We didn’t even think he could speak for the first six months or so. Ro practically begged Jinu to let us bring him home.”

“Wait- so Mystery’s the youngest?” Zoey asked, sounding surprised, her mouth wide open.

“Chronologically? Yes. Mystery’s been a demon for the shortest amount of time” Abby explained. “But we think Baby is the still youngest, physically.”

“Think?” Rumi asked, tilting her head.

“Yeah… we don’t know how old Mystery was when he… died. He doesn’t know either. And before you ask me why – we have no idea. None of us really know much about his past at all.” Abby looked down. “He’s never talked about it openly. But from the very little he’s said… I can only imagine.” He let the thought trail off, silence lingering for a moment.

“Anyway,” he exhaled, shaking his head. “That’s how we met.”

Abby looked over to Derpy as he slept peacefully, snores escaping him.

“None of us had it easy,” he said, voice low. “We didn’t come together because life was kind. We came together because it wasn’t.”

Rumi nodded gently. “Thank you for telling us.”

Abby dipped his head in return, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.

A heavy silence followed, each member lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, they rose, brushing dust from their clothing and gathering their things.

 

They pressed forward once again. The terrain growing darker, the air thicker with an uneasy stillness. Shadows twisted along the horizon, and even Derpy walked more cautiously.
It wasn’t long before Abby halted without warning.

Mira glanced over. “You okay?”

He didn’t answer.

His eyes widened, slitted pupils constricting. One hand flew to his temple as he winced in discomfort.

“…Do you hear that?” he whispered.

The girls stilled, instantly alert.

“Hear what?” Zoey asked.

Abby staggered forward, his breath hitching. “He’s—” His voice cracked. “I can hear him. He’s in pain.”

A distant scream ripped through his mind, muffled but agonising. Flashes of blood, a baekjeong’s blade, crimson pooling beneath steel – memories that weren’t his own. Abby clenched his teeth, shoulders trembling.

“Who? Abby, Who is it?” Rumi urged, fearing the worst.

He didn’t reply. Instead, he sprinted ahead and dropped to his knees beside a stretch of scorched earth, clawing desperately at the dirt.

“Abby!” Mira called, running after him.

He didn’t hear her, only digging faster. Dirt flew beneath his claws until something metallic scraped against them.

He froze.

Slowly, he pulled out a small, heart-shaped pendant, cracked down the centre, coated in grime, yet still shining faintly.

Mira sank beside him. “…Is that-”

“Ro’s,” Abby whispered. His voice was barely sound. “He never took this off. Ever.”

He clutched it to his chest, eyes stinging.

Zoey and Rumi exchanged a concerned look, both recalling what occurred the last time they unearthed something of the Saja Boys.

“We must be close,” Rumi said, glancing toward Derpy. The creature titled his head in agreement.

She turned back to the crouched demon. “Abby… we need to know what we’re walking into.”

Abby looked up, hesitation clear on his features.

Mira stood and placed a steady hand on Rumi’s shoulder. “If we know what to expect, we can help him better.”

Abby’s gaze flicked between them, fear and loyalty clashing in his eyes.

“I… It’s not my place to tell you.” He said, eyes narrowing.

Zoey stepped closer, gently resting her hand on his shoulder. He flinched, almost pulling away, but forced himself still.

“We’re gonna find out either way,” She reasoned. “At least if you tell us now… we can be ready.”

Abby stared down at the cracked pendant, thumb tracing the fracture line. Ro would hate him for sharing his secret. But the hunters were right. They were going to find out regardless. This was for his own good.

Finally, he closed his fingers around charm and nodded.

“…Okay,” he murmured. “I’ll tell you what I know.”