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Chapter Text

The night was warm enough for bare arms and lazy laughter. Firelight danced over the clearing, catching on the metal of Till’s piercings every time he moved. The kids were sitting in a half-circle at Ivan’s feet, all four looking mutinous.

“No fair,” Jin complained, poking at the dirt with a stick. “You have piercings.”

Ivan, seated cross-legged with a mug in hand, sighed. “We’re not doing this again.”

“Yes we are,” Sori said immediately. “You said we could bring it up tonight.”

“I said you could talk,” Ivan corrected. “I didn’t say I’d agree.”

Kai crossed his arms, frowning fiercely. “It’s not fair! You get cool metal and we get—” He gestured at himself, “—nothing!”

“You get to not deal with infections,” Ivan said flatly.

Sori perked up. “So it’s because of germs?”

“No,” Jin cut in, “it’s because Ivan’s mean.”

Till, sitting on the opposite log, raised an eyebrow and signed, ‘I agree with them.’

Ivan groaned. “Not you too.”

Till signed, ‘They’re old enough. Little studs, maybe one earlobe—’

“Absolutely not,” Ivan interrupted. “We’re not starting a rebellion with glitter.”

Mizi looked up from where she was roasting marshmallows. “Too late for that. Glitter’s unstoppable.”

“See?” Jin said triumphantly. “Even Mizi thinks so!”

“I said glitter,” Mizi replied. “Not holes in your body.”

Hyuna chuckled, tucking her long hair behind her pierced ear. “Ivan, you’re fighting a losing battle.”

“I fight those all the time,” Ivan said. “Doesn’t mean I lose.”

Luka wandered over, hands in his pockets, and peered down at the kids. “Who’s trying to pierce what now?”

“They want holes,” Ivan said.

“We want freedom!” Jin declared, jumping up and nearly stepping on the fire pit.

“Freedom to ruin your cartilage,” Ivan muttered.

Till signed, ‘Let them express themselves. It’s harmless.’

“Till,” Ivan said, narrowing his eyes, “you have snake bites, an eyebrow piercing, and apparently no sense of responsibility.”

Till grinned, signed, ‘You’re just jealous.’

“I’m not jealous,” Ivan said. “I just know what happens when you don’t clean them right.”

Kai squinted. “But you have one!”

“Where?” Jin demanded, leaning forward. “You said you didn’t have any!”

“I said I don’t have visible ones.”

The campfire went quiet.

Then Sori gasped, eyes wide. “What does that mean?”

Hyuna snorted into her drink. Luka blinked, realizing. “Wait. No. You don’t mean—”

Ivan grimaced. “Don’t make me say it.”

Till, smiling way too broadly, signed slowly, ‘Tongue piercing.’

Chaos erupted.

The kids screamed. Jin yelled, “THAT’S SO COOL!” Sori asked seventeen questions in one breath (“Did it hurt? Can you feel it when you talk? Does it make food taste weird?”). Kai clutched his head, scandalized. “You didn’t even tell us!”

Till leaned back, smug, firelight glinting off his snake bites.

Hyuna was laughing now. “So the man forbidding piercings is the one with the most dangerous one possible. That’s rich.”

“It’s not dangerous,” Ivan said, defensive. “I got it years ago. I forget it’s even there.”

Jin gasped dramatically. “That’s betrayal. You’re a hypocrite!”

“I’m an adult,” Ivan said, which earned him four synchronized groans.

“Adults get to have fun things and we don’t,” Sori pouted.

Till signed, ‘That’s unfair. They could handle a small one.’

“They can’t even handle brushing their teeth without drama,” Ivan said. “I’m not trusting them with needles.”

Mizi raised her marshmallow stick. “Fair point.”

Luka, half laughing, said, “Honestly, I can’t tell if you’re the responsible one or the hypocrite here.”

“Both,” Ivan said. “It’s called balance.”

Kai, still frowning, said, “What about you, Hyuna? You have a bunch!”

Hyuna smiled faintly. “I’m not the one who told you no.”

“Then you should tell him yes!” Sori insisted.

Hyuna’s smile grew. “And start a war with Ivan? I’m not that foolish.”

Ivan gestured toward her with his mug. “Smart woman.”

Till signed, ‘Coward.’

“Traitor,” Ivan shot back immediately.

Till smirked, unbothered. ‘They deserve bodily autonomy.’

“That’s a big word for you,” Ivan said.

Till made a show of signing slowly, ‘You’re just mad because I’m right.’

Jin threw up his hands. “Till’s on our side! Team Metal Mouth!”

Till nodded solemnly and signed, ‘We accept you, small disciples of rebellion.’

Kai looked ready to march into battle. “Team Metal Mouth! Team Metal Mouth!”

Hyuna was openly laughing now, and Luka had dropped onto the log beside her, face in his hands. “This is going to end in someone getting a paperclip through their ear, I can feel it.”

“Exactly why we’re saying no,” Ivan said.

Till signed, ‘Or why you should supervise properly instead of saying no outright.’

“Oh my god, stop encouraging them!”

But the campfire was already full of laughter again. Jin was pretending to rally troops, Sori was whispering “tongue piercing” like it was a forbidden spell, and Till was sitting there with the most innocent grin imaginable.

Hyuna leaned over toward Ivan. “You know,” she said, voice low enough that only he could hear, “you’re losing this one.”

“I never lose,” Ivan said automatically, though his mouth twitched.

“Uh-huh.”

“You’ll see,” he said, watching Till sign something dramatic to the kids about ‘freedom of expression’ and ‘metal as identity.’

“Sure,” Hyuna murmured, sipping her drink. “You’ll win. After they’re done tattooing paperclips to their ears.”

Ivan groaned, rubbing his face.

Till caught his eye across the fire and signed, ‘You love me.’

Ivan sighed. “Remind me why I keep you around.”

Till signed, ‘For emotional balance.’

“Try emotional chaos,” Ivan muttered.

But he didn’t tell them to stop. The kids kept laughing, the fire cracked and popped, and the warm summer air wrapped around them all like a blanket. The argument would continue — Ivan could already tell.

He’d win. Probably.

Maybe.

By the next night, it was clear the “piercing debate” hadn’t burned out with the fire.

If anything, it had spread like gossip.

Mizi was first to bring it back up, dropping onto a log beside Ivan with a grin. “So, rumor has it you lost a battle to Team Metal Mouth.”

“I didn’t lose,” Ivan said immediately. “We paused.”

“Paused?” Dewey asked, strolling over with a bag of chips. His septum ring glinted when he laughed. “That’s what people say when they lose.”

“I didn’t lose,” Ivan repeated.

“You’re outnumbered,” Mizi said cheerfully. “Hyuna, Luka, Till, half the camp—”

“Not me,” Ivan cut in.

“That’s obvious,” Mizi said.

Luka arrived next, hair a little messy from the heat. “Hey, so— hypothetically—if we did let your kids get piercings—”

“No.”

“—hypothetically,” Luka said, exasperated, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

“They’d look like you after a bad night,” Ivan said.

“I don’t even have piercings,” Luka said.

“Exactly,” Ivan said.

Till, of course, signed from where he was sitting by the fire: ‘Cowardice disguised as logic.’

Ivan glared. “Stop helping.”

Till signed, ‘I’m educating.’

“Sure you are.”

Before Ivan could dig himself deeper, the DNA kids came tumbling over from the mess tent, voices overlapping in excited shrieks.

“We heard you talking about it again!” Jin shouted.

“So is it yes now?!” Sori added, skidding to a stop.

“No,” Ivan said, steady as ever.

“Why not?” Kai demanded. “Everyone else said we could!”

Ivan blinked. “Everyone?”

“Everyone!” Jin said. “Mizi said yes! Luka said yes! Till said yes! Hyuna said yes!”

Till signed, ‘I absolutely did.’

Ivan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Wonderful.”

Hyuna appeared behind them, carrying a tray of mugs. “What’s wonderful?”

“Apparently,” Ivan said, “you’re enabling mutiny.”

Hyuna smiled faintly, setting the tray down. “They make good arguments.”

Ivan turned, deadpan. “They’re children.”

“Children who just survived a whole bunch,” Hyuna countered, sitting down beside him. “If they want a tiny bit of jewelry, maybe it’s okay.”

“That’s exactly the kind of sentimental reasoning that gets infections,” Ivan said.

Mizi laughed. “You sound like an overprotective mother.”

“Because I am one,” Ivan said.

Dewey shrugged. “They’ll be fine. You let Till walk around with metal in his face.”

“Till’s an adult.”

Till signed, ‘Debatable.’

“Not helping!” Ivan snapped.

Isaac wandered over then, quiet as usual, the glint of his nose bridge and eyebrow piercings catching the light. “I agree with Ivan,” he said. “They’re too young.”

Kai’s jaw dropped. “You?! You have two piercings!”

Isaac’s tone didn’t change. “And I regret one of them.”

Till signed, amused, ‘Which one?’

Isaac said flatly, “The eyebrow. It’s useless.”

“Piercings don’t need utility,” Mizi said, scandalized.

“Exactly,” Hyuna added. “They’re self-expression.”

Ivan threw up a hand. “Great. Now we’ve got philosophy.”

Luka grinned. “C’mon, Ivan. You used to be fun.”

“I’m still fun.”

“Name one fun thing you’ve done lately that didn’t involve yelling,” Mizi challenged.

“Letting you all live,” Ivan said.

Till snorted, shoulders shaking.

Hyuna studied him for a moment, then huffed a small laugh. “Of course you’d pull rank.”

“I don’t have a rank,” Ivan said. “That’s why it works.”

Till signed, ‘He’s saying he’s ungovernable.’

“Exactly,” Ivan said. “And so are they — for now.”

“But—” Jin started.

“No,” Ivan said.

“Please?” Sori tried.

“No.”

Kai frowned. “What if—”

“No.”

Till signed, ‘Dictatorship.’

“Till.”

Till only laughed silently.

Sori was still determined. “But everyone else said yes! Even Hyuna! She’s the boss!”

Ivan looked down at her, his expression softening just enough to make it sting less when he said, “Yeah, and I don’t care.”

Her mouth fell open. “You can’t just—!”

“I can,” Ivan said, leaning back again. “Because when it comes to you four, I do what I want.”

That sent Mizi into snorting laughter. “You sound like a cat. ‘I do what I want.’”

“Ivan is kind of like a cat,” Dewey mused. “Wanders around, only eats when he feels like it, hisses if you touch him the wrong way.”

Till nodded vigorously. ‘He also glares when cold water touches him.’

That got a round of laughter. Ivan sighed. “I hate all of you.”

Kai crossed his arms, muttering, “That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t,” Ivan said mildly.

Till signed, mock-serious, ‘Ouch. Philosophy from the iron fist of authority.’

“Exactly,” Ivan said. “No piercings.”

For a moment, it looked like the kids might keep arguing. But then Sori slumped, muttering, “You’re the worst vampire ever.”

Ivan smiled faintly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Till signed, ‘You should let them get piercings.’

“Till.”

‘Eventually,’ Till added, shrugging.

“Till.”

‘Fine,’ Till signed, exaggeratedly. ‘But if they come to me in ten years for advice, I’m saying yes.’

Luka, who’d been quietly watching with a mug in his hands, finally spoke. “Wait Hyuna is the boss… if we want piercings, we should ask Hyuna to order him, right?”

“Yeah!” Dewey said, brightening. “Hyuna, tell Ivan to let them have piercings.”

Hyuna burst out laughing. “Can’t.”

“Why not?” Mizi demanded.

“Because I literally can’t,” Hyuna said, still smiling. “Ivan doesn’t take orders from me. Or anyone.”

Dewey blinked. “Wait—so you’re saying we’ve all been listening to Hyuna’s orders, and Ivan’s just out here doing whatever?”

“Correct,” Hyuna said cheerfully.

The silence that followed was only broken by Till’s quiet signing: ‘That explains so much.’

Ivan ran a hand through his hair. “Can we not—”

“No, no, no,” Dewey said, leaning forward eagerly. “We’re unpacking this. So you have no boss. None.”

“None.”

“Then who tells you what to do?”

“I do.”

Jin mumbled, “But Hyuna thinks we should have piercings.”

Ivan didn’t even look up from where he was sharpening a stick with his pocket knife. “And?”

“She’s the boss,” Kai said solemnly, as if that ended the debate.

“Of you? Maybe. Not of me,” Ivan said, flicking wood shavings into the fire. Sparks crackled upward.

The kids gasped dramatically, like he’d just committed treason.

The fire crackled, and for a moment everyone turned toward Ivan.

The silence that followed was brief, but it meant something — a ripple of awareness passing between the adults. Everyone knew that Hyuna was the leader of the rebellion. Everyone also knew that Ivan didn’t exactly report to her.

It wasn’t defiance; it was just… Ivan being Ivan. The one who could do what he wanted because he didn’t owe anyone obedience anymore.

Dewey turned to the others like he’d uncovered a grand conspiracy. “He’s self-governing!”

“Can he fire us?” Mizi asked.

“I don’t want to find out,” Isaac muttered, still firmly on Ivan’s side. “Let’s not encourage him.”

“No, think about it,” Dewey continued gleefully. “If Hyuna can’t boss him around, can he, like, start his own rebellion inside the rebellion?”

Till signed something that made Hyuna nearly choke on her drink. ‘Ivan’s Rebellion: Free Piercings for All.’

The kids exploded into cheers.

Ivan groaned. “Till.”

Till only grinned wider and signed, ‘It’s democracy.’

“Democracy is stupid,” Ivan said.

“That’s dictatorship talk,” Dewey said immediately.

Hyuna, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, managed, “I think your kids are staging a coup.”

Ivan set down his knife and gave her a flat look. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Sori jumped to her feet and pointed dramatically at Ivan. “You’re not fair! Everyone else gets to listen to Hyuna and have fun, but you just do whatever you want and say no to everything!”

“Not everything,” Ivan said mildly.

“Yes everything!” she insisted. “You never say yes to piercings, or candy before bed, or playing outside when it’s raining—”

“I have cold urticaria.”

“That’s not an excuse!”

Till was absolutely losing it, signing through silent laughter, ‘She’s got you there.’

Kai, ever the serious one, turned to Hyuna. “So you really can’t make him say yes?”

Hyuna shook her head, still grinning. “Nope. I trust him with you. That means he gets the final word.”

Noa pouted. “Even if everyone disagrees?”

“Even then.”

Dewey leaned back, hands behind his head. “That’s terrifying.”

Isaac nodded. “And correct.”

Mizi groaned. “Ugh, you’re all no fun.”

Hyuna looked at Ivan with a teasing smile. “So what is your government called, then?”

“Ivan,” he said simply.

“Dictatorship confirmed,” Dewey muttered.

Till, still laughing, signed one last thing: ‘Long live Supreme Leader Ivan.’

Hyuna raised her mug. “Hear, hear.”

The kids, dramatically defeated, groaned in unison and flopped over each other in the grass. The debate had ended the same way it began — Ivan unmoved, everyone else buzzing with laughter.

“Still no piercings,” Ivan said, leaning back and watching the firelight flicker against the dark.

Till signed lazily, ‘We’ll see.’

Ivan sighed but smiled anyway. “You won’t.”

Hyuna leaned closer to the flames, eyes gleaming with amusement. “You know, for someone with no boss, you sure spend a lot of time surrounded by people trying to overthrow you.”

Ivan smirked. “Keeps things interesting.”

Ivan sighed. “Goodnight, everyone.”

The kids groaned. “You can’t end it like that!”

“Watch me,” Ivan said, standing and stretching.

Till’s grin gleamed in the firelight as he signed one last word: ‘Tyrant.’

“Yup,” Ivan said, unbothered. “And proud.”

Chapter Text

The sun was still high when Ivan called for a break.

The kids sat cross-legged in the grass, knives gleaming beside them like little badges of honor.

“Wipe them down,” he said, passing out cloths. “You keep your blade clean or you don’t keep it at all.”

“Yes, Mom,” Jin and Sori said in unison before dissolving into giggles.

Ivan sighed. “I told you not to—”

“—call you Mom,” Kai finished with a grin. “Yeah, we know, Mom.”

Till nearly dropped the basket he was carrying, laughing silently as he signed, They’re right, you know.

Ivan shot him a look. “Don’t you start.”

But Till only signed, Too late. Motherhood suits you.

Hyuna and Mizi arrived just in time to catch the tail end of the scene — five kids polishing knives like tiny mercenaries, Ivan crouched in the middle checking their grips.

Hyuna blinked. “You let them have personal knives?”

“Yeah,” Ivan said simply. “Safer that way.”

“Safer,” Mizi repeated slowly. “You think giving them blades is safer.”

“Because they’ll stop trying to take mine,” Ivan said, as if that explained everything.

Sori held hers up proudly. “Mine’s called Snowdrop!”

“Mine’s Fang,” Jin said.

Noa beamed. “Mine’s Tilly.”

Till pointed at himself, laughing. Named after me?

Noa nodded enthusiastically. “Because it’s nice but also really sharp.”

Till looked like he wasn’t sure what expression to make at that.

Hyuna shook her head. “I don’t know whether to be horrified or impressed.”

“Both,” Luka muttered, looking resigned.

Ivan straightened, brushing off his hands. “They know how to handle themselves. They also know they can’t have ice cream until Saturday and they stay three meters away from the fire. Balance.”

“Balance,” Mizi echoed. “Right. Because knives good, sugar bad.”

Ivan ignored her. “Self-discipline.”

Hyuna folded her arms. “You realize they’re going to start calling you Mom unironically if you keep this up, right?”

“They already do,” Dewey said from where he was lounging nearby. “I heard Noa tell Arin that her mom doesn’t let her have sprinkles on weekdays.”

Hyuna burst out laughing. “Oh my god, it’s official.”

“Stop calling me that,” Ivan said flatly.

Kai tugged on his sleeve. “Mom, can we show them the trick?”

“No tricks with knives.”

“It’s not with knives!”

Ivan gave him a look. Kai relented. “...It’s near knives.”

“Then no.”

Till leaned over, signing to Hyuna, He’s terrifyingly consistent.

“Terrifyingly parental,” Hyuna agreed. “You should’ve seen him during breakfast — he made Sori finish her vegetables before she got orange juice.”

“She’s eight,” Ivan said. “She can learn priorities.”

Hyuna raised an eyebrow. “You’re raising tiny soldiers.”

Ivan looked at his little lineup — five small faces, five polished knives, all watching him expectantly — and his expression softened. “I’m raising survivors.”

That quiet conviction hung in the warm air for a moment, until Jin piped up: “So, survivors who get ice cream once a week?”

“Yes,” Ivan said.

“But what if it’s really hot out?”

“Then drink water.”

“But water doesn’t taste like—”

Ivan gave him a look that immediately ended the argument.

Till, trying not to laugh, signed, Mother knows best.

Hyuna leaned closer. “You know, they’re kind of perfect for you.”

Ivan blinked. “Perfect?”

“Look at them,” she said. “They follow your rules. They still have all their fingers. And they love you.”

He looked again. Sori was helping Noa clean her blade. Kai was double-checking the others’ grips. Jin was pretending his knife was a tiny sword, but at least the edge was pointed away. They were loud, messy, funny — but careful in the way only kids raised by Ivan could be.

“Yeah,” Ivan said finally, quiet but sure. “They’re mine.”

Till smiled, signing softly, Always were.

Mizi groaned. “Ugh, that’s disgustingly wholesome.”

Hyuna laughed. “Don’t ruin it.”

“Too late,” Mizi said. “Mom made it sentimental.”

Ivan turned toward her, deadpan. “Keep talking, I’ll give you dish duty.”

She grinned. “See? Total mom move.”

Till laughed silently until he could barely sign, Single Mother Ivan — armed and affectionate.

The kids all chorused, “That’s our mom!”

Ivan dropped his face into his hands. “I regret everything.”

But when he looked up again, watching them run toward the storage crates to put away their knives, the faintest smile tugged at his mouth.

No ice cream, no fire, yes blades — yes, he was definitely a mother.

Chapter Text

Hyuna stood in the middle of the camp courtyard, hands on her hips, voice ringing loud enough to reach every tent.

“Alright, everyone!” she called. “We’ve been working for weeks without a full rest day, so I’m officially declaring today a break day. No drills, no assignments, no work!”

A cheer went up across camp. Luka looked relieved enough to cry. Mizi threw her knife into the dirt in triumph. Even Isaac cracked a small smile.

Everyone scattered toward their own version of rest — naps, cards, naps again.

Everyone except Ivan.

He just blinked, one of his kids tugging on his sleeve. “What’s a break day?” Jin asked.

“It’s…” Ivan started, glancing at Hyuna. “A day off.”

“From what?” Sori tilted her head.

“From work.”

Kai frowned. “So… you don’t have to do anything today?”

Ivan nodded, cautious. “In theory.”

Five pairs of eyes lit up like fireworks.

“Then you can finally teach us knife juggling!”

“Or how to make a silencer!”

“Ooh, or we could go look at frogs again—”

Ivan’s face fell. “…Wait.”

From the nearby bench, Hyuna was sipping her tea, watching the conversation unfold with dawning realization.

“Oh,” she said softly, “you don’t… actually get breaks, do you?”

Ivan sighed. “Define ‘break.’”

“Time to yourself. No responsibilities. Peace.”

He stared at her flatly. “I have five children who once turned a broom into a flamethrower.”

The kids, overhearing, immediately started arguing about whose idea that had been.

Mizi wandered over, stretching. “You could ask someone to watch them.”

“I did once,” Ivan said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “That was the day they got on the roof with a rifle.”

Mizi froze. “…Right. Forgot about that.”

“Maybe we can—” Hyuna started.

“No.” Ivan’s tone cut her off gently but firmly. “No one is watching them. Last time they were ‘supervised,’ I came back to an upside-down couch and a missing door hinge.”

Hyuna held up her hands. “Okay, okay, no arguments there.”

Behind them, Till signed from his seat by the fire, ‘You could rest while they study.’

Ivan glanced toward his kids, who were now playing tag with butter knives. “…Sure,” he said dryly. “Peaceful.”

Luka, who had been half-asleep in a chair, cracked one eye open. “I’d rather go back to fighting aliens.”

Hyuna groaned. “Same.”

At that, Ivan smiled faintly. “Yeah, me too.”

Later that evening, the rest of the rebellion lounged in the sun, soaking in their well-earned rest, while Ivan sat under a tree surrounded by five small notebooks, patiently explaining fractions to his kids.

“Two-thirds,” he said, pointing to the diagram.

“Looks like a knife.”

Ivan sighed. “Everything looks like a knife if you squint.”

From across the yard, Hyuna called, “You sure you don’t want a day off?”

Ivan didn’t look up. “I don’t get days off,” he called back. “I get bedtime.”

—-------------

Hyuna had never looked so guilty in her life.

It had been nearly an hour since her “break day” announcement, and in that time, Ivan had been dragged through an obstacle course of chaos disguised as childcare — fractions, frog catching, and an attempt to build a “mini flamethrower that won’t set things on fire, promise.”

By the time she saw Ivan sitting cross-legged in the dirt, teaching long division while a child hung from his shoulders, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay,” she said suddenly, standing up from her chair. “I’m retracting my statement.”

Luka looked up from his book, confused. “About what?”

“The break day.” Hyuna’s voice was decisive. “It’s over. New rule: the only person who gets a break today is Ivan.”

Ivan looked up, startled. “What?”

“You heard me.” Hyuna pointed to Dewey and Isaac, who were half-dozing nearby. “You two, you’re taking over. We’ll manage the kids for one day so Ivan can actually rest.”

Isaac froze. Dewey immediately opened his mouth to argue — and then closed it again when Hyuna glared.

Ivan laughed weakly. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” she said firmly. “Go do something relaxing. Read. Nap. Sit in the sun like Till over there.”

Till, lounging peacefully by the shade, lifted a hand in lazy greeting, sunglasses reflecting the light. He looked blissfully content.

Ivan hesitated. “I don’t know, Hyuna…”

But then one of his kids tugged his sleeve. “Mom, can we make another flamethrower?”

Hyuna blanched. “Absolutely not.”

Ivan stood up. “You know what? Sure. I’ll… take a break.”

He dusted off his pants, gave Hyuna a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, and walked toward Till with the slow dignity of a man walking away from an active volcano.

Till signed something like, ‘Good luck to them.’ Ivan chuckled, sinking down beside him, finally relaxing in the sunlight.

For about two minutes.

Because, across the camp, there was suddenly:

Dewey yelling, “You can’t feed the frogs gunpowder!”

 

Isaac shouting, “Hyuna, they’re running toward the storage tent!”

 

And a loud BANG followed by smoke and a very triumphant “WE MADE THE MINI FLAMETHROWER!”

 

Till peeked over his sunglasses. ‘You’re going to get up, aren’t you?’

Ivan sighed, leaning back. “They’ll figure it out.”

Hyuna’s voice echoed through the base: “NO, WE WON’T!”

Ivan tilted his head toward Till. “Five minutes.”

“Five minutes,” Till agreed, and they sat together in perfect, fleeting peace while chaos reigned in the background.

By the time Ivan finally wandered back toward camp, still pleasantly warm from the sun and carrying a content expression that no one had seen in months, the air had changed. It was the distinct kind of silence that only came after a disaster.

Till, who had stayed behind, signed lazily from his chair: ‘They’re plotting.’

“I figured,” Ivan murmured, squinting toward the base. There was smoke. And glitter. Definitely glitter.

—---

When Ivan rounded the corner only a few hours later, the first thing he saw was Hyuna—her hair askew, holding a clipboard like a shield—cornered by Jin and Kai. Dewey was on the ground, covered in stickers and what looked suspiciously like pudding, and Isaac was leaning against a wall, muttering something about “uncontainable small demons.”

Sori spotted him first. “Mom!”

Hyuna turned sharply. “Don’t you dare call for reinforcements, Ivan—”

But it was too late. The kids all froze, then ran up to him like they hadn’t been terrorizing half the rebellion for the past two hours.

Ivan looked down at them, unimpressed. “What did you do?”

Kai piped up proudly, “We’re not under Hyuna’s control!”

Hyuna pinched the bridge of her nose. “They said that because of the time we were talking about who’s in charge. Because you said both you AND the kids aren’t under my command.”

Ivan blinked slowly. “…Technically, that’s correct.”

Hyuna stared at him, horrified. “Ivan.”

Noa nodded enthusiastically, “So when she said we couldn’t build a flamethrower again, we didn’t listen!”

“That’s not a win, Noa,” Isaac muttered.

Jin added, “If Hyuna doesn’t have the power to give us piercings, then she doesn’t have the power to order us around, right?”

Ivan raised an eyebrow, fighting back a laugh. “That’s some solid logic.”

“IVAN.” Hyuna’s voice rose an octave. “You cannot encourage them!”

He held up his hands. “I didn’t. I’m just impressed.”

“Ivan!”

He held up a hand, calm and measured. “Hyuna doesn’t have control over you. That part’s true.” The kids cheered triumphantly—until he added, “But I do.”

Five pairs of small shoulders tensed immediately.

Ivan folded his arms, tilting his head just slightly. “You wanna tell me why you thought it was okay to ignore the rules while I was gone?”

Silence.

Jin mumbled, “We were, um… experimenting.”

“With fire,” Kai added helpfully.

Sori piped up, “It was for science!”

Ivan raised an eyebrow. “Was it for science when you superglued Dewey’s shoe to the wall?”

Kai flinched. “...Art?”

“Mm-hm.” Ivan crouched so he was eye-level with them, calm but with that tone that made even Hyuna straighten her posture. “You know what happens when you don’t listen, right?”

Groans of despair followed. “Nooo, not the chores!”

“Yep. The chores.” Ivan pointed toward the supply tents. “You’re sorting the scrap bins. All of them.”

Sori whimpered. “But that takes hours!”

Ivan smiled sweetly. “Guess you’ll have a lot of time to think about command structures then.”

As the kids muttered about injustice, Hyuna finally let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “How—how do you do that?”

Ivan shrugged. “They know I mean it.”

Till, who’d been silently observing, signed, ‘Told you. Authority of a god.’

Isaac crossed his arms. “I respect him. But also? I’m terrified of him.”

Dewey nodded, still picking glue off his shoe. “Same.”

Hyuna let out a long, deep breath—the kind that meant she was questioning every decision that had led her here. “I’m giving you your job back. Immediately.”

Ivan crossed his arms. “So the rest day’s over?”

“Yes. It never happened. Forget it. Take your—” she gestured vaguely to the five kids now trying to put stickers on Dewey’s face—“children and please, for the love of everything holy, go.”

Ivan shrugged. “See? You guys aren’t ready for this job.”

Kai smirked. “Told you, Mom’s the boss of us.”

Hyuna shot Ivan a glare. “You know they call you Mom, right? Everyone calls you Mom now.”

Ivan just grinned. “As they should.”

As he herded his kids back into line, they automatically fell into their single-file formation, holding hands without needing to be told. The chaos melted away in seconds.

The camp was silent again.

Dewey looked at Hyuna, defeated. “…I take it back. Ivan has the hardest job here.”

Isaac nodded solemnly. “And the scariest children I’ve ever met.”

Hyuna rubbed her temples. “Next time we announce a rest day, we’re excluding him. The rebellion can’t survive it.”

Ivan, walking past with his kids now in perfect single file, called back, “Good idea. But I’m still not letting them near fire again.”

“Or glue!” Hyuna shouted after him.

“Glue’s negotiable!” Jin yelled from the back of the line.

Chapter Text

The courtyard was alive with noise.

Laughter, footsteps, the sound of something probably breaking in the distance.

Luka sat on the porch steps, squinting through the sunlight like it personally offended him. His blond eyes shimmered painfully bright — every ray of light bouncing off them like a mirror.

He had one hand shielding his face and the other pressed to his temple. The cup of lukewarm tea beside him had long since gone cold.

“Luka!” Jin’s voice rang out like a gunshot.

He winced. “Too loud.”

Five small faces peered around the doorway — all five of Ivan’s kids, in varying states of grass stains and chaos.

“Come play tag with us!” Sori said, grinning wide.

Luka stared. “No.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. He knew better than to try just saying no. They’d hound him until he explained, and then keep hounding him anyway.

He pointed vaguely upward. “Sun’s out.”

Sori blinked. “So?”

“So, I have blond eyes. The sun feels like staring into a flashlight. Inside my skull.”

“That sounds cool!” Jin said.

“It’s not,” Luka replied flatly.

Kai tilted his head. “Then wear sunglasses.”

“I have a migraine,” Luka countered. “A very bad one.”

“You don’t look sick.”

“That’s because you’ve only seen me in pain for, what, half a year? I’m an expert at pretending.”

That made Noa giggle. “Pretending expert!”

Luka exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Also—heart.”

“Heart?”

“Doesn’t like running. Starts complaining if I even think about moving too fast.”

Sori frowned. “So no tag?”

“No tag.”

Kai crossed his arms, thinking hard. “What about hide and seek?”

Luka squinted at him. “Do I look like I can crouch behind anything?”

Jin perked up. “We could hide and you could seek!”

Luka rubbed his temples harder. “That’s worse.”

The kids all looked at each other, clearly conferring telepathically like some kind of pint-sized hive mind.

Then Sori said, “Okay, what can you do?”

Luka considered that. His chest was still tight, his head still pounding, and the sunlight stabbed behind his eyes like knives. He was, in short, miserable.

“…I can sit here,” he said finally. “And drink tea.”

The group groaned in unison.

“That’s boring!” Jin complained.

“That’s peace,” Luka corrected.

But then — to his mild horror — they all sat down next to him anyway.

On the porch steps. In the same patch of shade.

Sori rested her chin on her knees. Noa leaned against his arm. Jin started plucking at a piece of grass like it was a guitar string.

“What are you doing,” Luka asked.

“Keeping you company!” Noa chirped.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Mom says if you don’t wanna play, you don’t have to. But nobody said we can’t sit with you,” Kai said matter-of-factly.

Luka sighed. “He would say that.”

“Your eyes really are weird,” Jin said, leaning forward to stare. “They look like gold.”

“Blond,” Luka corrected. “And stop looking directly at them, you’ll blind yourself.”

“I like them,” Sori said quietly.

Luka froze for a second. “...Thanks.”

They all sat there for a while — five warm, wiggly, impossible little bodies pressed against him, the kind of chaos that somehow didn’t hurt his head as much as it should have.

It wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t restful. But it was… nice.

When Ivan came by later, he stopped at the sight — Luka still sitting stiffly on the steps, surrounded by his kids like a nest of baby birds.

Till, watching from a distance, signed, ‘You look like you’ve been adopted.’

Luka scowled. “I hate this.”

Ivan smiled faintly. “You look happy.”

Luka didn’t answer.

Mostly because it was true.

Chapter Text

The night had finally settled over the camp — heavy, warm, and still.

The fire crackled lazily in the pit, painting everyone’s faces in gold. It was one of those rare evenings where no one was working or patching up wounds or arguing about rations. The kind of quiet that didn’t happen often in the rebellion.

Ivan sat near the center, half in shadow, a small Noa leaning against his arm and already starting to nod off. Kai sat cross-legged nearby, carefully carving a stick into something vaguely knife-shaped. Sori and Jin were whispering about constellations that might or might not exist, while Arin poked the embers with scientific precision.

Hyuna was on the other side of the fire, tightening a bolt on her prosthetic leg with a screwdriver, sparks glinting off the metal. Till lounged next to Mizi, hands signing lazily as she listened, her good eye following every flick of his fingers. Luka sat a little apart from the rest, head tilted back, a cup of tea pressed to his lips as if the warmth could dull the migraine that had been chewing at him since sundown.

For once, everyone looked peaceful.

That lasted all of five minutes.

“Hey, Mom?” Sori asked suddenly, sitting up straight.

Ivan hummed, brushing Noa’s hair back. “Mm?”

“Are we cursed or something?”

The fire popped, and Hyuna froze mid-adjustment.

Ivan blinked. “…I’m sorry, what?”

Sori looked around at everyone else for support. “Well, think about it! Everyone here has something wrong with them.”

Mizi raised a brow. “Wrong?”

“Not like bad wrong,” Jin added quickly, waving his hands. “Just—like, different wrong.”

Sori began counting on her fingers. “Like, Hyuna’s got the metal leg, Mizi can’t see out of one eye, Luka’s got a whole list of stuff, Till can’t talk, and Mom can’t even touch ice without exploding.”

“I do not explode,” Ivan said mildly, though he could already hear the laughter bubbling up around him.

“Technically,” Hyunwoo added, “you do swell.”

“Not helping,” Ivan said.

The kids were unbothered. Jin, leaning forward on his knees, added cheerfully, “Isaac’s face looks like he fought a blender and lost!”

Isaac didn’t even flinch. “That’s... not inaccurate.”

“Dewey’s been shot a billion times,” Jin continued, counting. “And Hyunwoo has that giant rock scar!”

Hyunwoo immediately pointed at Luka. “He threw the rock!”

Luka didn’t even open his eyes. “You ducked too slow.”

Hyunwoo frowned, rubbing the faint scar along his temple. “You threw it too hard.”

Sori turned back to Sua, who was staring into the fire. “So that means you’re the only one who’s totally fine!”

Sua blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“Yeah!” Jin nodded. “No scars, no missing parts, no curses! You’re like—perfect!”

That word made Sua’s shoulders tense. She didn’t look at them when she said quietly, “That’s because I was trained to be.”

The conversation halted.

Sua’s fingers brushed the back of her neck — the faint raised scar beneath her hair where the aliens had branded her name into her skin. “They didn’t like flaws. So they made sure I didn’t have any. Not even a scratch.”

She smiled softly, “There’s no way they would let me get cursed.”

The kids went quiet. Even Jin didn’t have a comeback for that.

Kai tilted his head. “But if we’re not cursed,” he said slowly, “does that mean we have powers?”

Sori poked the ashes with a stick, watching the sparks curl into the dark. “Maybe we're not cursed,” she said quietly. “Maybe they are.”

Ivan smiled faintly, running his hand over Noa’s hair. “Sure. I can handle being cursed.”

Hyuna exhaled softly, setting down her screwdriver. “Even if we’re cursed,” she said, “then it’s a weirdly specific curse. Only people who joined this rebellion.”

Mizi chuckled, one corner of her mouth lifting. “The Rebellion Curse. Comes with free trauma and back pain.”

That got a few snorts of laughter. Luka muttered into his cup, “Explains a lot, actually.”

Till signed something, quick and neat. Ivan glanced at him and translated, “‘At least we’re all cursed together.’”

That drew a small wave of smiles. Even Sua laughed softly under her breath.

Kaii hummed, “No way the cause of it is being in the rebellion, there’s gotta be some… that one word mom taught us in math.”

Sori lit up, “Oh! A common factor! I agree, no way there isn’t some other cause.”

Ivan shook his head, “Hate to break it to you but we’re all pretty different. Come back to me when you find something.”

Jin smiled like he had the best idea of his life, “Does that mean we have permission to figure out the rebellion curse instead of the greatest common factor?”

The kids all looked up at Ivan in anticipation.

Ivan kept his face neutral, carefully scanning tiny, hopeful faces. “We haven’t had a break day in a while… sure! We need the change in routine anyway.”

It took a while for the kids’ cheers to die out after that but when they finally did, it was a calm silence.

And for the first time in a long time, no one tried to fill it.

—

The next morning, the camp woke to the sound of chaos.

Which, in fairness, wasn’t that unusual.

Kai was waving a clipboard he’d stolen from Hyuna’s desk, Sori was scribbling notes in blue marker, and Jin had tied a bandana around his head like a professional interrogator. Noa trailed behind them with a flashlight that barely worked, announcing herself as “the assistant detective.”

“Operation: Find the Common Factor!” Kai declared to anyone who would listen. “We are going to figure out why everyone in this rebellion is so weird!”

“Hyuna first!” Sori pointed.

Hyuna blinked. “Why me?”

“You’ve got the robot leg,” Jin said, as if that was obvious.

Hyuna sighed. “I lost it in an alien attack.”

“When?”

“When I was trying to rescue someone.”

“Who?”

Hyuna paused. Her eyes slid toward Luka.

Luka froze mid-sip of tea. “...Don’t look at me like that.”

“You,” Hyuna said, deadpan.

The kids gasped collectively.

“Next!” Sori said,

—

“What about your eye?”

Mizi, looking somewhat amused, tilted her head. “Aliens. I was fighting Luka in the ring. They didn’t like me winning.”

The gasp was louder this time.

Till raised an eyebrow, signing ‘It’s a pattern.’

“Not you too,” Luka muttered.

“Till!” Sori turned toward him. “What about you?”

Till pointed at his throat and then at Luka, signing simply, ‘Aliens. Lost to him.’

Luka groaned. “I was trying to win!”

‘And you lost me my vocal cords,’ Till signed cheerfully.

Jin’s eyes went wide. “It’s true! Luka is cursed!”

Luka’s tea nearly went flying. “What—no, I’m not!”

—

“Hyunwoo!” Sori barked. “Explain your scar!”

Hyunwoo shrugged helplessly. “Luka threw a rock at me.”

Kai opened his mouth, but Jin beat him to it. “Luka literally attacked you! That’s the most evidencey evidence there is!”

Till leaned back, signing ‘Statistically impressive.’

Ivan was shaking with laughter now, one hand covering his mouth as the kids closed in on Luka.

—

"Oh Luka~!" Jin called out.

Luka looked unamused as he looked through the door, not moving from his desk. "What."

Sori looked down to her clipboard "Actually we don't need you, you were just born with problems because they wanted a nice aesthetic. Kinda like a pug."

Luka looked slightly stunned, "Suprisingly accurate, however it's made not born."

---

They didn’t find Isaac until the night's campfire.

“Isaac!” Kai called. “How’d you get your face scar?”

Isaac sighed. “Aliens. Attacked me while I was guarding Luka’s match.”

The gasp this time nearly blew out the fire.

“Everything bad that happens is because of Luka!” Jin declared dramatically, pointing an accusing stick across the flames.

“Hold on,” Luka said, hands raised. “That’s not fair—”

“Even Mizi’s eye!”

“Okay, that’s—”

“And Hyuna’s leg!”

“That’s a stretch—”

“And Till’s voice!”

“I’m not responsible for—”

“And Hyunwoo!”

“Honestly that one's my—”

Kai stood, solemn as a judge. “We, the rebellion children, declare Luka officially cursed.”

The adults broke into laughter. Even Hyuna’s stern face cracked a smile.

Till signed, ‘I always suspected.’

“You’re all ridiculous,” Luka said flatly. “If anything, I’m the one who suffers the most!”

“Classic cursed behavior,” Jin muttered.

Mizi was laughing so hard she had to cover her face. “They’re not wrong.”

Ivan, holding back a grin, said, “I’m not intervening. This is gold.”

“Ivan,” Luka hissed. “You’re supposed to be the adult here.”

“I am. I’m adult enough to enjoy this.”

The firelight danced across Luka’s deadpan expression as the kids whispered conspiratorially, scribbling something into the dirt with sticks. When Ivan leaned over to peek, he saw a big messy diagram labeled THE CURSE, with Luka’s name in the middle and arrows pointing to everyone else.

“Hyuna’s leg,” “Mizi’s eye,” “Till’s voice,” “Hyunwoo’s scar,” “Isaac’s face,” all connected to the center.

Even Dewey, who hadn’t said a word all night, looked over the drawing and muttered, “Yeah, checks out.”

Luka threw his hands up. “I hate children.”

Ivan patted his shoulder. “You’ll live.”

Till signed, ‘Debatable.’

The kids high-fived across the fire, already making plans. Luka slouched further into his seat, muttering something about exile. Ivan just smiled, leaning back as the flames popped and the night filled with laughter.

Luka sat up again abruptly, “Hold on, since this curse is supposedly because of me, and I was made by the aliens, shouldn’t it be their fault?”

“Oh my gosh he’s right!” Jin held his mouth dramatically open. “The cursed one is right!”

Luka raised an eyebrow and gave a side glance, “I don’t like that label but it makes more sense. Everyone was directly affected by the aliens.”

Sori looked over the evidence, “I can’t believe we missed this! Hyuna, Mizi, Isaac, Till, and Dewey all got attacked, and Luka’s problems were literally because he was made by them. Everyone’s cursed because they were attacked and made by aliens!”

Kai looked up from his clipboard. “Wait, what about Mom? He doesn’t fit the pattern.”

Ivan raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah!” Jin said. “You’re not part of the rebellion! Hyuna’s the boss, and you said you don’t listen to her.”

Hyuna made a sound that was half laugh, half groan. “Why do you all remember that?”

“Because it was cool!” Sori said. “That means you’re not part of the rebellion, and the curse is a rebellion curse!”

Ivan smirked into his coffee. “So I’m immune, huh?”

“No,” Kai said quickly. “You’re a loophole.”

Till was signing too fast for Ivan to keep up, grinning so hard it made his shoulders shake. Ivan caught the last part — ‘That explains a lot about you.’

Ivan raised his mug in mock salute. “Cheers.”

Ivan crouched beside the kids, pretending to study their chalkboard. “So according to this... the rebellion’s cursed by aliens making and attacking them, and I’m a loophole.”

They nodded solemnly.

Ivan hummed. “Then technically, you’re all cursed too. You were made by aliens, remember?”

The kids froze.

Sori blinked. “...Wait, what?”

“You’re all made by the aliens,” Ivan said matter-of-factly. “So by your own logic, you’ve got the curse too.”

Their faces fell in perfect unison.

Kai looked horrified. “We’re cursed?!”

Noa clung to Ivan’s arm. “I don’t wanna be cursed!”

“You’re fine,” Ivan said, voice soothing.

That seemed to comfort them — at least until Jin suddenly brightened and pointed at Hyunwoo.

“Wait, what about him?”

Hyunwoo blinked, mid-sandwich. “What?”

“You weren’t attacked by aliens! And you weren’t made by them! Your scar came from Luka when you were kids! You ruin the pattern!”

Hyunwoo shrugged. “Sorry?”

Sori squinted. “...Unless the aliens made Luka throw the rock!”

Hyuna burst out laughing. “You can’t be serious!”

“We have to consider all the evidence!” Jin insisted.

Luka groaned into his hands. “I want to evaporate.”

Kai threw his hands up, “So it HAS to be Luka’s fault!”

The kids chanted, “Luka’s cursed! Luka’s cursed! Luka’s cursed!” while waving their clipboards. Ivan was laughing too hard to stop them.

By the time the chaos calmed, the chalkboard looked like a conspiracy theorist’s dream — arrows, circles, and one massive crayon doodle of Luka in the center labeled THE CURSED ONE.

Hyuna leaned over to Ivan, voice low but amused. “You realize they’re never going to let him live this down.”

“I’m counting on it,” Ivan said.

Till signed lazily from his seat, ‘We should make him a badge.’

“A badge?” Luka said weakly.

“Yeah,” Ivan said, deadpan. “Property of the Rebellion Curse.”

The camp burst into laughter again.

When the noise finally died down, Luka muttered under his breath, “Fine. I’ll take the curse if it shuts you all up.”

Sori grinned. “Deal.”

And with that, the Rebellion Curse became official doctrine — written in crayon, signed by five tiny hands, and eternally burned into Luka’s reputation.