Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jungkook had learned to keep his head down at the academy early on. He was smart enough to realize that, as a human, he was already at a disadvantage compared to his modded peers. Humans couldn’t withstand some of the more intensive mods other species could; their bodies were too fragile or complex. On top of that, he was a guide. A designation that marked him as weaker than his peers. Everyone assumed guides were small, defenseless things, in need of nig, strong sentinel to protect them. And despite it being different at the academy, where no one there was small, let alone defenseless, the guides were still treated with an air of caution.

So, Jungkook did his best to stay under the radar. He was near the top of his class but not valedictorian; he’d worked hard for straight A’s and received a mastery of all the necessary combat skills. He wasn’t aiming for general or even a fleet commander. He’d be happy as a ship captain, a battleship preferably. He’d played his cards smart.

That hadn’t always been his mindset. As a human guide, things were never easy, but Jungkook thrived on challenges. He’d first arrived at the Academy bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, with a chip on his shoulder bigger than the moon, prepared to fight tooth and nail for a top position. He'd been fortunate enough to have been accepted in the first place. UMA, or the Universal Military Academy, was the elite intergalactic event school known for producing top-tier soldiers and politicians. If you wanted a streamlined career in the military, UMA was your best bet. Jungkook had done well enough on his early aptitude tests to be considered, and with his human status, he’d been given a full ride.

Not much was known about humans to the universe. They were a secretive species, completely untrusting of other alien species. Jungkook knew his attendance at UMA was an attempt to bridge the animosity between humans and the rest of the universe. He was one of three humans selected from Old Earth (or Terra Genesis, as it was commonly known to the galaxy), and one of twelve humans in a student body of nearly a thousand. They had their own doctors and counselors who were human and meant to accommodate them during their stay at UMA. They weren't even allowed to give out details about their species unless given express approval at the risk of a hefty fine and jail time.

Despite the restrictions and limitations, he'd been convinced he could excel. He needed the connections and advantages that UMA afforded him if he ever wanted a chance of helping his loved ones. He had plans to exceed the expectations of everyone. He didn't care if he was a guide or human; he was going to be great.

But that was before Bangtan had entered his life. Before he’d met his perfect matches.

Perfect matches between sentinels and guides were myths. In a galaxy brimming with alien species and cultures, the idea that two people could be completely, biologically compatible was nearly impossible. It was a connection so incredibly rare that it was thought to be a thing of legend. The chance of matching with one person was near zero, let alone multiple people. It was absurd.

Yet, as Jungkook sat in the auditorium during orientation, watching Bangtan give their yearly recruitment speech to the guides, he felt something shift in him. Some missing piece clicking into place, telling him that those sentinels were his. He was meant for them and them for him. The thought excited him at first, but after the momentary high of finding his perfect matches wore off, he was horrified.

It was no secret that Bangtan killed guides. Not on purpose, of course. They were just incredibly powerful sentinels, and the mental toll it took for guides to create and maintain their bonds often killed them. He’d heard the rumors; seen each year the top seven graduating guides join Bangtan’s ranks only to end up either in an early grave or a hospital unable to stop the drool dripping from their mouths.

Jungkook had no desire to meet either of those fates. So, as much as his heart begged to reach out and ground the six sentinels, his mind always stopped him. He had to stay alive. He had a life he needed to live, people who relied on him, and no perfect match was going to change that.

The universe did not make it easy to stay away, despite his best efforts. Bangtan came twice every year to speak to the students, if circumstances allowed, once at the beginning of the year to meet the incoming class and again at the end for graduation. Each time, he was drawn to them like a moth to flame. He'd find himself chasing their gazes and, whenever they were in the same room, facing them. This internal compass that seemed to always point towards them terrified him. It made him work twice as hard to blend in, to go unnoticed by them.

Being one of twelve humans on a planet did not make blending in an easy task, but Jungkook managed. He’d managed to make a few friends over the years, but the rest of the school eventually forgot he existed. A thing he was more than happy to allow. Jungkook was content to allow his fellow Terran Genesis comrades, Jack and Sarika, to take the spotlight. They were smart and capable, and most importantly, neither of them were guides. They had no very possible, basically inevitable, death looming above their heads.

His strategy worked, too. Despite everything, all the ups and downs and late nights, he’d done it. Jungkook had made it to graduation with no bonds in sight.

He stood 16th in line, 4th in his guide cohort out of 20, but 8th overall, just out of Bangtan’s range. He marched alongside his classmates to their seats and waited patiently for the ceremony to end. He listened to all the speeches, smiled graciously, and shook hands with his professors when his name was called. He even managed to bow towards Bangtan as he walked off stage, diploma in hand. He’d done it, he was free. 

As he sat back down in the crowd of graduates, he found himself eyeing the three Bangtan guides left. Comparing himself to those guides was an unconscious habit. Something vestigial from the bond. A small part of him liked to imagine himself up there, standing beside his matches, but a much larger part of himself liked breathing. Only three of the eight guides Bangtan possessed at the beginning of the year were still standing, and, by the looks of it, just barely. 

One of the guides he recognized as Faran, a Fike species known for its hard plates all over its body. Faran had been a friend once, not a close one, but they’d been partners on projects before. She was skinnier now, almost emaciated, and the bruises under her eyes were a deep purple.

It pained Jungkook to see her like that, a shell of her former self, but when they made eye contact, she grinned broadly at him. He gave a nod in return and stifled his grimace, reminding himself that Faran was living her dream. She was one of many guides who believed it was a privilege to work with Bangtan. Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff at their naivety. Sure, you were given the highest of clearances, the chance to see far-off places, and all the fame and glory you could ever want as long as you could survive long enough to see any of it. Maybe it was the human in him, but he’d choose survival over glory any day.

The ceremony passed quickly, and before he knew it, there were only two lines of students left to be called. It was then that he heard an ominous creak from the glass dome above them. He didn’t even have a chance to look up before everything exploded, and Jungkook found himself surrounded by falling glass.

Instinctually, Jungkook ducked, shielding his face and neck with his hands. He cringed away from the falling debris. Something sharp, likely a shard of glass, sliced into his cheek as chaos began to unfold around him. He could hear the sound of boots on the ground and people shouting. He glanced up and came face to face with a Garba species dressed head to toe in typical Outer World garb.

Jungkook had learned all about the Outer Worlds in Planetary History: the Galactic Commonwealth, a truly useful elective if he'd ever taken one. They were a series of fringe planets that sat right outside of the Royal Intergalactic Federation’s jurisdiction. They’d been barred from entering any pacts or trade agreements with Federation planets due to their status. As such, they've entered into their own coalition based mostly on loose, handshake agreements. They didn't have a central government nor a sophisticated, mobilized military.

Red flags began to rise inside Jungkook’s mind. Outer World planets were barbaric but usually unorganized and ultimately harmless. Since when did they have the capabilities of launching a large-scale, well-executed attack on one of the most well-guarded institutions in the galaxy? Something about the whole situation was supremely wrong.

Jungkook glanced over towards the stage, gauging Bangtan’s reaction, and internally raised another flag. They seemed surprised, which was strange because it was hard to catch the strongest sentinels in the galaxy off guard. But what was even more worrying was the two figures standing frighteningly still.

Any guide worth their salt could tell you that certain stimulation could push sentinels into zones. The more sensitive a sentinel was to stimuli, the more likely they were to fall into an unintended zone. It was also no secret that Taehyung and Hoseok were the most sensitive to light fragmentation, as sight was their strongest sense. And, from what Jungkook could piece together, the thousands of tiny rainbow fractals shining off the glittering glass were more than enough to push the unsuspecting sentinels into a zone.

Jungkook glanced over to Bangtan’s guides only to see one left standing. The Outer World soldiers had either been very smart or very lucky, as the other two lay unmoving with smoking blaster holes through their stomachs. Faran’s body was twisted at an angle as if she’d been reaching out for someone as she fell.

Jungkook pushed down the wave of nausea that accompanied seeing his once friend’s body lying motionless, her slitted eyes unseeing. The last guide left was already reaching towards Hoseok, a strategic move since Hoseok would most likely be the easier one to guide out of a zone. Taehyung was a notoriously stubborn sentinel, especially when he zoned.

Jungkook could see the chaos beginning to unfold around him, and he knew logically that the best chance for survival was with all of Bangtan fighting. He also knew that the guide, no matter how good she was, was never going to be able to pull Taehyung out of a zone so soon after yanking Hoseok out of one. Grimly, he realized what he needed to do if he wanted to make it out of this. He made a split-second decision, one he was sure he would regret later, and let his conscious wander.

The moment his mind reached out, it was almost as if Taehyung’s aura pulled him in. One moment, he was standing in the Auditorium, glass raining down on him, and the next, he was standing outside in the rain. It was odd, though, he wasn’t actually getting wet. He could see the rain around him, feel it land on his skin, but then it would just slide right off. In front of him stood a rather imposing building. The greyscale architecture was all straight lines, and there was a noticeable lack of windows.

For a split second, Jungkook paused. Most sentinels didn’t have such real mental spaces. Their mindscapes were more abstract. He'd once guided a sentinel whose mindscape consisted solely of a single, white hallway with a series of doors to section off his memories. It had taken Jungkook ages of opening doors to find the sentinel staring at a rather disturbing clown-themed birthday party.

Taehyung’s mindscape was different, as was most of Bangtan’s he’d chance. It was so lifelike. Even simply climbing the steps to the sliding glass door, he could feel himself becoming out of breath. As the doors slid open, Jungkook found himself face-to-face with a lobby of some sort. There were artifacts and paintings on display, and a surprising amount of warm light given the lack of windows. Looking around, he saw a welcome desk sitting empty. 

Huh, this was certainly a first. He had absolutely no idea where he was or where he should go next.

As he approached the welcome desk, he found a series of pamphlets in a little stand, and sprawled across the counter was a very large map. The pamphlets all seemed to be displaying some kind of art piece Jungkook had never heard of or seen before. The map was fairly extensive and showcased several different 'wings' all lined with various exhibits. Glancing over everything, it finally clicked. This was a museum! Taehyung’s mindscape was a museum. That was kind of sweet.

He picked up one of the brochures closest to him, reading the title allowed, “UMA Spectacle: A New Exhibit.”

“It’s our newest exhibit,” a voice sounds from behind the counter. “Can I interest you in a guided tour?”

Jungkook jumped back slightly, cursing as he glanced up at the new arrival. He hadn’t heard anyone approach. The person was wearing a rather nondescript blue uniform with a matching scarf tied around their neck and hair pulled into a sleek updo. In their extended hands was a small audio device with headphones wrapped around it, which they showed to him. Jungkook realized with a start that they had no face. Where a face should have been, there was only smooth skin.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Taehyung’s mind attendant,” the voice sounded chipper, but Jungkook eyed them warily. He’d never met a ‘mind attendant’ before. “Who are you?”

“I’m a guide,” Jungkook didn’t want to say too much in case Taehyung could hear them somewhere. “I’m here to help.”

The voice laughed, “Of course! Taehyung’s a bit preoccupied right now in the new exhibit, but you can try and talk to him if you’d like. Are you interested in a guided tour?” It held out the device again.

Jungkook nodded vigorously, snatching the recorder and headphones. The faster he could get to Taehyung, the faster this would be over. He quickly spun around, determined to get to this new exhibit, only to face a series of dim corridors with very limited signage. He turned back around to face the attendant.

“How exactly do I get to the new exhibit?”

The voice chuckled, “Here,” they pointed to the map as they traced a path through the museum. “Just follow the lights!”

Jungkook’s eyes traced the path just pointed out to him, “Wait, what lights?” he asked, looking up to where the attendant had been standing, only to find them gone. The area behind the help desk was once again empty. “Shit.”

He glanced around the lobby once more, and his eyes caught on one of the previously dim hallways, now brightly illuminated.

Jungkook gritted his teeth and popped in an earbud. “Guess I’ll just follow the lights then.”

The hallway twisted around and around, and Jungkook was sure he’d travelled in a circle by now. Every once in a while, he’d pass an exhibit and stop to take a peek. The device seemed to know when he’d entered an exhibit, and a deep voice began to orate major events and important figures in each memory.

One particularly bleak exhibit centered around Taehyung and Jimin’s first meeting. It was public knowledge that at one point, both sentinels had been work slaves on Tshandar, but to see it laid out before him was horrifying. He stared for a moment too long at a slab of rock with 1,257 tally marks, one for each day in captivity. He shuddered, moving along quickly after that. These were personal memories, ones that were not Jungkook’s business.

Still, the organization was impressive. Jungkook had never met a Sentinel with such a cohesive and detailed mindscape before. If he weren't in quite such a rush, he'd have actually enjoyed listening to the exhibits. But as it was, he didn't have the time to spare. Walking through all of the exhibits had him flagging. Just how big was Taehyung’s mind? Bangtan's species composition was not public information, but Jungkook knew of some alien species whose average life span was upwards of 300 years. A chill ran down his spine at the thought that he might be lost amongst centuries of memories. 

Just as Jungkook was about to tear his hair out, the trail of lights abruptly ended around an archway. Letting out a sigh of relief, he took a moment to compose himself and glance into the room before entering. The exhibit in front of him took his breath away. Hundreds of glass shards hung from the ceiling, and a breeze of some sort was causing them to sway gently, covering the room in tiny rainbows. Paintings of each member of Bangtan hung in gilded frames along the walls. One wall was covered in red drapery reminiscent of the Auditorium curtains. Taehyung stood in the center of it all, staring at the ceiling in rapt fascination.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, trying not to startle the sentinel in front of him as he stepped into the exhibit.

It clearly failed as Taehyung whipped his head around to stare at him. Jungkook wasn’t sure who Taehyung had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t him. His eyes narrowed at Jungkook, head cocked to the side. Jungkook could see his muscles tensing, clearly readying for a struggle.

Ha, yeah, no thanks. Jungkook rolled his eyes. Most guides preferred a more physical approach to guiding, choosing to yank their sentinels away from the focus of their zone. Jungkook thought it was rather tedious and unnecessarily tiring. He much preferred talking. It was a method that often took longer and was much more dangerous if done incorrectly, so guides were often warned away from using it. Jungkook had taken those warnings as a challenge.

“Hi,” he waved, trying to appear non-threatening.

Assumingly due to the shock of hearing a guide speak to him in his mindscape, Taehyung’s posture deflated.

“The glass is really beautiful,” Jungkook hesitated for a second. 

He didn’t like drawing attention to the focus of the zone, but he needed Taehyung to feel comfortable. The sentinel’s gaze wandered back to the glass.

 “It is, isn’t it? The light fractures so beautifully.”

“This is a pretty large museum,” Jungkook noted, trying to keep his voice nonchalant.

Taehyung didn’t turn back to face him but did nod, “Of course, I’ve lived quite the life.”

Jungkook could sense that this was going nowhere. It was time to pull out the big guns.

“There was an exhibit I wanted to see, but I couldn’t find it. This place is a maze!” Jungkook put on his best ‘poor, little guide’ voice, hoping to stir up some sort of protective sentinel instincts.

Taehyung barely turned his head, just waving a hand in the direction of the outside hallway.

Jungkook grit his teeth and pushed on, “Please, could you help me find it? I’ve been looking for hours!”

Something in his tone must have gotten Taehyung’s attention as the sentinel sighed and finally turned away from the glass. “What exhibit are you looking for?”

Jungkook hesitated, thinking back to the map he’d seen earlier. “Uhm, the Renaissance one,” cringing as he said it.

The Renaissance had been a brutal war between the Royal Alliance and the Galactic Shipping Coalition during the Alliance’s early days. The Coalition had disagreed with tariffs imposed by the Alliance and refused to sign any trade agreements with an Alliance colony. The refusal had spurned the young empire, so they’d retaliated by attacking Coalition ships in deep space. A move that kicked off one of the longest and bloodiest wars the Alliance has ever seen. Coincidentally, it had also been Bangtan’s first foray into the spotlight.

The Royal Alliance had been losing the war badly. The Coalition had more ships and trade routes, leaving the Alliance unable to get new supplies, and their allies were growing more and more cautious. It wasn’t until Bangtan stepped in and managed to start winning battles that the tide turned. They punched through Coalition supply lines and backed the Coalition into a corner so tight they were forced to surrender under terms favorable to the Alliance. All cadets had received an in-depth lecture on the war during their first year strategy lecture. Plus, he’d had to walk through the rather large exhibit on the way. So, it had been the first thing that came to mind, but it may not have been the most appropriate request.

Taehyung’s brow furrowed. “That exhibit is a bit gruesome, don’t you think?”

Now it was Jungkook’s turn to pull a face. “Do you not think I can handle it? I’m battle-trained,” he huffed.

The sentinel eyed him up and down, letting his gaze linger on Jungkook’s pins. There were a measly five in comparison with Taehyung’s hundreds.

A blue bar to denote his guide status, cut down the middle with eight thin white lines denoting his status amongst the top ten cadet guides. A green and blue Terran circle right next to the silver and red UMA bar. The last two had been pinned on him just hours earlier in front of his graduating peers by the school’s dean. An orange bar with two gold strips for his designation as Captain and a solid yellow bar for his new designation as a member of the Royal fleet. Hours ago, he’d been incredibly proud of those pins; now he wanted to turn away and hide them from the sentinel’s gaze.

Taehyung lifted a single eyebrow. 

“I can see that,” he smirked. “Fine, come with me and try not to get lost on the way.”

With that, the sentinel was quick to turn on his heel and breeze past Jungkook. The guide scoffed before turning to follow Taehyung. Right as they’d crossed the exit of the exhibit, Jungkook allowed himself a breath. Nearly there, just one last thing to do.

“Hey, Taehyung,” the disrespect stopped the sentinel in his tracks, who slowly turned around to face Jungkook. “Look,” the guide pointed back to the exhibit.

He watched the realization bloom across his the sentinel’s face and allowed himself to pull away from the mindscape. It was a nice touch, having them see the object of the zone after they’d left it. It tended to prevent any nasty surprises when they exited their mindscapes.

Chapter Text

As Jungkook blinked back into reality, he started the process of returning to his body. He flexed his fingers, allowing his brain to retrace the confines of his physical form. Sometimes it was difficult for guides, after a taxing session, to settle back into themselves. It was easy to lose your sense of self in the mental landscapes of sentinels. That was why it was so odd that Jungkook realized he felt the same as he had before the zone. There was none of the usual lingering tension or confusing brain fog. He was simply present once more, gazing at the battle raging around him. It was its own kind of unsettling.

Deciding he could focus on the implications of this revelation when he was not being actively shot at, Jungkook began to catalogue what had happened while he’d been guiding. Judging by the progression of the fight, it had only been a minute or two since he first entered Taehyung’s mind. Quicker than most of his zones, especially for such a powerful sentinel—another revelation he could unpack at a later date—, but a minute was everything in combat.

In every direction he looked, chaos reigned. Glass was still falling, and the sound of blasters was loud enough to leave his ears ringing. He could see where several sentinels stood swaying gently, deep in zones, while guides stood with hands outstretched and eyes closed.

It was the null cadets and guards who seemed to be taking the brunt of the offensive. A few ran past him, leaping into action as they tackled a masked intruder who’d been aiming their pistol at a bonded pair. 

Jungkook grimaced as yet another red flag was raised. All the cadets were taught to avoid attacking any zoned sentinels. Not only was it seen as cowardly to attack a sentinel when they were completely defenseless, but zoned sentinels could react unpredictably. Their minds urging them to eliminate any physical obstacles to the focus on their zone. Logically, cadets knew that it was not uncommon in an actual combat scenario to go after zoned sentinels, but it was still a bit of poor form. Clearly, these assailants weren’t trying to fight fair. 

Despite the danger surrounding him, Jungkook still risked a glance at the stage. Both Taehyung and Hoseok remained on the stage, but the rest of Bangtan had dispersed. He caught a glimpse of Jimin’s bright pink hair in his peripheral so he figures they must have joined the fray.

He watched as Taehyung sat up on stage, the sentinel slowly blinking back into reality. Jungkook noticed the exact moment that, as the sentinel took in his surroundings, he caught on to what was happening. As the sentinel charged off the stage, pouncing on the nearest Outer World soldier, it dawned on Jungkook that he seemed equally as unaffected by the recent zone.

Sentinels often describe feeling disoriented immediately following a zone. Jungkook has heard the symptoms described a million times. Nausea, headaches, auditory hallucinations, pins and needles in the extremities, the list goes on. And, like every other cadet, he’s seen Bangtan’s most renowned battles. He’s watched them refocus before and, despite their elite status, even they seemed to need a moment to clear their heads afterwards. 

Jungkook had a sinking suspicion that both their lack of zone-related side effects had something to do with their compatibility. And if he’d noticed it earlier, then it surely couldn’t have been lost on the Kim Taehyung. He could only hope the sentinel had chalked up his elevated response time to adrenaline. 

The ease with which Taehyung had rejoined the fight loosened some knot inside Jungkook’s chest. Only for it to quickly retighten as he glanced at the other elite sentinel.

Unlike Taehyung, Hoseok still remained frighteningly motionless. The guide next to him had begun to look rather pale, and droplets of sweat were running down her face. After just a moment more, she began to sway and then collapsed. For a second, Jungkook held his breath, hoping Hoseok would open his eyes, but no such luck. 

Fuck me, Jungkook, with only a brief, mournful glance at the exit, gritted his teeth and started moving. He was running out of time to do something. 

He jumped over bodies on the ground, not stopping to look at the faces of his fellow cadets. So much wasted potential. He grimaced at his own callous thought. It took a moment of ducking under an incoming blaster fire before he could launch himself up onto the stage. As soon as his feet touched the wood, he was kneeling beside the fallen guide and checking for any signs of consciousness.

It was never safe for a sentinel to have multiple guides stomping around their mind at the same time. The mental strain was far too dangerous for any sentinel, even ones as strong as Bangtan. If Jungkook was going to guide Hoseok, he had to be sure he was the only one in there. The last thing he wanted was to be responsible for causing a world-class sentinel’s mental break.

And, just as he thought, the guide did not react. When he checked for a pulse, he was once again faced with the grim reality of what it meant to be Bangtan’s guide. A reminder of his own fate if he wasn’t careful. A fate he was about to risk for the second time that day. Gently, he closed her eyes and turned to face Hoseok.

The sentinel had yet to move since the glass first shattered, his eyes open and lazily tracking the sky. Jungkook groaned, staring at the sentinel’s lax expression. He must be deep in a zone if he wasn’t able to register anything going on around him. Jungkook grabbed one of the sentinel’s arms and was hit with a wave of motion sickness as he was suddenly ripped from reality and found himself standing outside a theater.

For a moment, Jungkook had to fight the urge to throw up. He had no idea what throwing up in a sentinel’s mind might do, but he wasn’t particularly keen to find out. After a deep breath, he was able to center himself again and acknowledge what had just happened.

Sure, physical contact always made the mental connection easier, but it had never been that easy before. 

Normally, Jungkook had to build the bridge into a sentinel’s mind. Place the stones or weave the threads that would connect him to a sentinel. It was a delicate and, depending on the desired strength, time-consuming process. A bond was only as good as its foundation, after all. This felt like he’d slipped down a slide covered in oil straight into the mindscape of Hoseok. And yet, it felt as solid as any other connection he’d ever made. More so in some ways.

He felt less like a guest in Hoseok’s mind and more so like another part of him. Just another strange feeling he’d have to tuck away until he had time to examine it. Right now, the picture that was beginning to form of these connections left Jungkook feeling more and more fucked.

Still, he couldn’t help the way his eyes widened in awe at the mindscape before him. Rising up from the blank void was a large building. The front of the building was dominated by large, arched windows, separated by carved columns running all the way from the floor up to the roof. Bronze statues of people in motion were strewn around the outside, giving one the impression of stepping through a dance. The old, marquee sign spelled out in warm golden lights: ‘Hope Theater,’ and Jungkook was hit with a wave of nostalgia. 

He had never been to a real theater before, but could remember well the old ballet films his grandma would watch. The large, glossy stages framed with heavy drapery and decorated with ornate set pieces. And the two of them would sit on their old, lumpy sofa, watching through the cracked television screen as centuries-old stories danced across the glass. 

It had always left him wanting to see a real ballet in a real theater. He’d never had the chance, though. Earth had long since destroyed their theaters, and the Academy was situated on a dwarf planet big enough for little more than the school and its campus. There were no theaters on the planet, and a trip off-world was a privilege Jungkook had never been awarded. It felt like an odd sort of gift to be standing here now, even if it wasn’t real. 

For a moment, a deep sense of longing for his grandmother and their lumpy couch struck him.

This theater, though, was much grander than any of the ones in the old Terran movies. The columns were marble, and Jungkook had to stop himself from staring at the velvet red carpet lining the steps. He wasn’t used to this level of opulence, but it was gorgeous.

He followed the carpet up to the ticket booth. An old-fashioned ticket seller was sitting behind the glass, dressed in a red uniform with gold buttons spread across its front. He even wore a matching red hat, fastened by a strap under his chin. And, similar to Taehyung’s attendant, this one was also faceless.

“Hi,” Jungkook greeted, less taken aback this time by the empty expanse of skin where the eyes and mouth should have been. “I’m looking for Hoseok? He seems to be a little lost right now.”

“I’ll say,” the attendant grumbled. “He didn’t even pay for his ticket! Just went right in!”

Jungkook shrugged, “There’s a lot going on right now, it’s a little hectic out there, and I need to borrow Hoseok. Can I go in and grab him?”

The attendant looked him up and down, then sniffed. 

“Well, you certainly don’t meet the dress code, but if you’re quick about it, fine.”

Jungkook glanced down at his graduation uniform, now singed from blaster fire, and cringed. This had cost a minor fortune to have tailored—practically all the spending money he’d managed to save up in a year—, and now he’d only gotten one use out of it. Pushing down the frustration, he nodded towards the attendant and took a step back towards the doors.

“Sir, you’ll need a ticket to enter,” the attendant said, sliding a slip of paper through a hole in the glass.

He was quick to pick it up, trying not to show his desperation to get away from the judgmental being Hoseok’s subconscious had created. Sparing a glance at the ticket, he read the words printed on it: HSM Special Performance: Graduation Day c. A1023. Theater 1.

“Thanks,” he muttered, shuffling into the theater at last.

He was unsurprised to find the inside of the building was just as glamorous as the outside. High ceilings covered in gold details and dark oak paneling lined the walls. There was an empty bar on one side of the space and a few scatterings of velvet couches and chairs spread out through the remainder. On the far side of the atrium was a door, slightly cracked open, and Jungkook could hear the soft notes of a piano from within. Above it hung a sign with a single, golden one carved into it. 

He quickly rushed over, thanking Hoseok for creating a simpler mindscape than Taehyung’s museum maze, and quietly nudged the door open enough for him to slip in.

Once inside, he allowed himself a moment to take in the scene before him. There were rows and rows of deep maroon seats in front of one of the largest stages Jungkook had ever seen. The drapes were a matching maroon, trimmed with gold and framing nearly a hundred dancers. 

The lights were dimmed, but Jungkook could see that while some had faces, most did not. They seemed to float across the stage, leaping and twirling towards one another. Some were wearing a rather familiar uniform, while others were dressed all in black. High above them, falling from the ceiling were pieces of snow.

He recognized a familiar dancer in a graduation uniform rolling across the stage, leaping next to the only dancer in pure white. It dawned on Jungkook, this uniformed figure was him from just moments ago. Hoseok was watching the battle as a memory, experiencing everything just moments after it happened.

Jungkook did a quick scan of the room and saw the silhouette of a head in the middle of the theatre. He slipped through the rows of chairs and sat next to the sentinel, who sat, knuckles white from where his hands gripping the seat.

“I told you, Halo, I’m not going anywhere,” the voice was low and gruff, filled with tension.

He paused, a bit surprised. It wasn’t every day a sentinel talked first in a zone. They tended to lead with violence, much to Jungkook’s displeasure. This Halo must have at least used a partial verbal component to her guiding if Hoseok was used to making conversation. The silence stretched as Jungkook scrambled to right himself. They did not have the time for Jungkook to stutter.

“Halo’s dead,” Jungkook said after finding his voice.

He cringed slightly internally at his own bluntness, but he didn’t have enough time to think of anything cleverer to soften the blow. The best thing for both of them right now was to bring Hoseok as close to reality as possible. 

Much like Taehyung, the sentinel turned quickly in his chair to face him. Though, unlike his partner, he seemed mostly alert, likely a result of this Halo’s work. The sentinel seemed to size him up for a moment before turning back to the stage.

“That’s not possible,” he huffed. “We were just talking.”

Well, that confirmed his verbal guiding theory. It would make it a bit harder for Jungkook to talk out of zone him since the surprise of conversing with a guide was usually enough to essentially jump-start the process. Though it would seem that Halo had done most of the heavy lifting already.

“She died trying to guide you,” Jungkook spat a bit too harshly.

The sentinel was quiet for a moment. “I had not… I hadn’t thought she was there yet. I just wanted to watch for a little bit longer.”

The statement confused Jungkook, but, before he could ponder its implications, Hoseok’s expression shuttered as he turned away from him.

“No,” the sentinel shook his head. “She’s fine. She would’ve told me if she was tired.”

Jungkook held back his groan as he watched a black garbed figure on the stage begin creeping its way towards the dancer in white. They were running out of time. He needed to be quicker.

“I can prove it to you if you come with me,” Jungkook began to stand, holding his hand out for the sentinel.

Hoseok turned back to the performance for a moment, “But they’ve just begun. I can’t leave now, I’ll miss it!”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. Sentinels, for all their pomp and bluster, could out-whine a child while zoning.

“The performance will be here when you come back, but Halo would want you to see her,” he pushed. It was a bit of an unfair tactic, but he really was ready to do just about anything.

Hoseok was quiet for a moment before nodding. 

“You’re right,” he said, taking Jungkook’s hand. “Let’s go find her. She ought to be around her somewhere.”

Jungkook led him out of the theater and towards the exit. It wasn’t until they reached the light of the atrium that Jungkook noticed the tear streaks running down Hoseok’s cheeks or the redness that lined the sentinel’s eyes. Jungkook quickly found himself turning back around. The vulnerability of guiding was inevitable, but it was Jungkook’s least favorite part. He always left a mind feeling like an intruder. It made his skin itch.

Before they left, Jungkook handed over his ticket, pointing towards the name of the show and then back towards the door.

“See,” he said before slipping away, unwilling to stare at the fearsome sentinel’s watery eyes anymore.

It was a harder return to reality after having guided both Hoseok and Taehyung. His mind trying to drag itself back into their connections. It was almost intoxicating. Still, he reminded himself, there was an active combat situation happening, and he needed to get the fuck out of there. He snapped into reality as an Outer World soldier was pointing his blaster towards them.

Mentally, he cursed as he ducked and threw himself at the soldier’s feet. They both went sprawling on the ground below the stage. The soldier taking the brunt of the impact, but Jungkook’s head still rattled with the force of the fall.

Jungkook felt the back of his uniform get grabbed and yanked. He was quick to scramble and try to dislodge himself, but the grip was firm. He managed to turn enough in the grip to face his captor, only to come face to face with General Kim Namjoon.

Jungkook gulped, suddenly cowed, looking into the midnight blue swirling irises of Bangtan’s leader. They had an almost metallic hue that was indicative of night vision mod. The thought of this incredibly powerful sentinel being able to hunt and fight just as easily in the night or day triggered something primal in him. The urge to flee was great, but the urge to freeze was greater. And, though it was only for half a second, it was enough time for Namjoon to bodily shove him towards the door.

“We’ve got this under control, Cadet, follow the graduates and get out of here,” Namjoon grunted, nodding his head towards the door as he raised his blaster behind him and shot an Outer World soldier through the skull without looking.

Jungkook, suitably intimidated and understanding this was not the hill to die on, nodded rapidly and ran for the doors. As he went, he grabbed whatever fallen graduates he could and helped them towards the exit with him.

Now, one may look at this action as one of cowardice or weakness, but, in Jungkook’s opinion, it was the only smart decision he could’ve made. He wanted to live, and there would only be death remaining in that room by the end of the day. Besides, who was he to go against a direct order from Bangtan? 

Beyond the auditorium doors lay a different kind of chaos. The fighting seemed to be contained in the hall behind them, but out here, bodies still whirled around him. Some fetching medical aid, others were writhing on the ground, groaning. It was not those who moved that frightened him, but the ones that didn’t. He stared down at the body of someone familiar. Her side was burned and half of her cheek was missing, but her chest was still moving. For a second, he had hope, then he found her gaze. She stared off, eyes half lidded and empty, and Jungkook knew she was not long for the world. 

Mina, he recalled, a guide like him. She had been only a place above him in the rankings, but she was as close to his friend as any alien could be. They’d studied together all the time. She’d been one of the few who knew that he was holding back, but she’d never asked why, just let him help her study. It was strange to think they’d been talking just a few days ago. She’d been so excited for her future, so had he, and now—

“Jungkook!” 

His name rings in the crowded hallway. His knees nearly give out under the wave of relief and guilt that sweeps through his body at the familiar voice. He manages to remain upright long enough to have the breath knocked out of him by his best friend and fellow graduate, Kim Yugyeom. 

Yugyeom was a rather excitable null that Jungkook had met during their first year. They’d met during the human integration program orientation and became fast friends. He was one of four humans at the Academy to have been born on Earth Alpha or Terra II, and the only one in their year. 

They’d bonded over their shared distaste for how snobby their Terra Nova classmate was and the general loneliness that was being a human surrounded by alien races. It was nearly impossible to make non-human friends because of how tight-lipped they had to be, so they tended to stick together. Yugyeom was his closest, and arguably only, friend.

“You’re okay!” Yugyeom exclaimed, running his hands over Jungkook’s uniform as he checked for injuries. “I was so worried. You were closer to the doors, but you weren’t out here, and I was-”

“Breathe, Yugs.” Jungkook cut off the other’s panicked rambling. “I’m alright. Keep your head on.”

Despite his gruff words, something warm settled in Jungkook’s stomach. It was sweet how worried Yugyeom got over him. Besides the warm feeling, however, that niggling sense of guilt grew. He hadn’t even remembered Yugyeom until he’d heard the other’s voice. He’d been so focused on guiding Bangtan and then getting out that he’d completely forgotten about his friend. He was an awful person.

“You’re okay, right? No injuries?” Jungkook asked, if for no reason other than to alleviate some of his guilt. 

The other cadet just smiled but shook his head. “All good, the triage medic gave me a green tag. See?”

Jungkook stared at the atrociously neon, reflective wristband on his friend’s wrist. It was mostly reassuring, but…

 “What does a triage medic know about human anatomy? Besides, triage medics miss things all the time!”

As if to prove his point, two guides in medic uniforms with blue Xs stitched over the heart pass by them in favor of the unconscious bodies Jungkook had pulled out of the Auditorium. Jungkook tried not to take it personally. Clearly, he was well enough to be standing, unlike his peers.

“Any dizziness? Did you get hit by any glass?” Jungkook scanned the other’s uniform, spotting a patch of red on his sleeve. “You’re bleeding!”

“Whoa,” Yugyeom caught Jungkook as he staggered a bit in an attempt to get a closer look at his friend. “Relax, it’s not mine.”

The chilling reminder of what they’d just been through flashed hot through him. It had been easy to deal with in the moment, no time to think or process. Now, though, he had a moment to think and all he seemed to be able to feel was nauseous. All his excess energy had him nearly bouncing in place.

Yugyeom shot him a strange look, hands outstretched. “Are you okay?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, knocking away his friend’s fretting hands. “Yeah, just happy to see you.”

“Aww,” Yugyeom cooed. “I knew you loved me.”

“Whatever,” Jungkook reluctantly pushed his friend away. “Help me transport some of these guys to the infirmary,” he nodded back towards the graduates he’d dragged out with him, the medics having moved on to other groaning bodies in the hall.

Yugyeom nodded. “You also need to get checked out. Dr. Fritz should be waiting for us.”

Jungkook reluctantly agreed. He hated seeing Dr. Fritz. They both grabbed one of the now semi-conscious cadets and began cajoling him in the direction of the school’s infirmary. He let out a low sigh, trying to ignore the headache growing behind his eyes. This was going to be a very long evening.