Chapter Text
He’s back!
After 7 long years, handler Heparu announces LUKA’s grand return to the stage.
“We thank the fans for being patient for seven long years whilst repairs were made, but LUKA is now in top shape and ready to take the stage again!”
Sources state that whilst Luka is returning, he will be taking on a promotional role for the new season of ALIEN STAGE, hoping to encourage the new generation of entertainment and garner excitement for the return.
————
Bulletproof glass.
Fingerprint locks.
Insane amounts of guards.
The kids were locked in tight.
At the rebellion's current power level, still rebuilding after the tragedy, there was no way they could launch an operation at the level required to rescue the children.
Till was stuck.
He removed his hand from the enclosure, using his sleeve to scrub away his visible fingerprints as the pink haired child ogled at him.
He’d come back for them, he promised.
Dust and dirt kicked up around him as he drove back to the rebellion base, stars twinkling delicately above him. Till couldn’t help but smile. Being able to see the stars after being locked in that artificial garden… he couldn’t believe his luck.
He wondered if Mizi was looking at the same stars.
Till had come to terms with Ivans death years ago, remembering but not dwelling on their complicated history together. He’d had a good support network around him, especially after the rebellion so kindly took him under their wing. He had no idea how he’d ever repay their kindness.
But he wouldn’t have the support if not for Mizi begging the rebellion to take him. Mizi, who had been cast to the wind, branded as a witch and shunned by humans and aliens alike. He had no idea where she was now, whether she was alive and thriving or just… living.
That guilt crushed him every day.
So as soon as he was able to, he threw himself into work, determined to rescue as many children as possible from facing the same fate as the ones he lost.
Which brings him to his current predicament. The children in the weird Alien Stage museum made out of his dead friends DNA to ‘preserve their memory’ or whatever excuse they were using. It’d been a shock to see a kid with Mizis hair and Ivans face, but even more shocking to see a child with his own features.
They were mockeries of real, good people. People whose perceptions of right and wrong and love were warped by the cruelty of the stage.
But the children were innocent, and Till was going to save them.
————
The Pet Snatcher!
Pet owner and trainer Urak recounts the haunting tale of a masked kidnapper snatching his trainees from under his nose, breaking into his facility and stealing his pets from their sleeping quarters!
————
The rebellion members were as boisterous as ever, celebrating the recent escape of the kids training under the handler Urak. It had been Till’s way of settling the score, nobody deserved to go through cruelty at the hands of that beast. He wanted to make sure he was the last one.
Pulling into the makeshift garage, he shot a wave in greeting to Isaac and Dewey as he set his bike on its kickstand. Their crappy TV sputtered in the background, static interrupting the news teller every so often. They really needed to replace the old thing, but Isaac was insistent on using it until it kicked the bucket.
Fortunately, his bike had only taken some minor damage on his most recent escapade, bumps and scrapes, so he took to buffing out the scratches as the chatter around him continued. He mostly tuned out the noise of the TV, sick of hearing their ramblings about ‘the witch’ and the subsequent fall out 7 years ago.
7 years. He was 28 now, and he had an entire new family to show for it. 7 years without Ivan. 7 years not knowing if mizi was even alive. The scars on his neck ached at the thought.
As he was buffing out the last of the scratches, a voice caught his attention.
“I’ve had the privilege of seeing the newest Alien Stage candidates, and their potential…” A chuckle, “Let’s just say it’s shaping up to be an interesting competition!”
Till looked up from his bike, locking eyes with the visage of Luka on the screen. His PR trained smile shining in the heavily lit set. He was lounged in a casual yet professional way, with poise only aquired by years of experience and training.
“That’s fantastic!” The anchor spoke from his desk, voice nasally and bubbly, “Now, rumour has it that you will be helping to present the show rather than participating yourself, can we expect any fun events to get the blood pumping?”
Luka let out a laugh. A charming, rich chuckle that would surely make his fans swoon.
“Well, since my fans have been ever so patient with me, I wanted to give back and meet the faces of my dedicated supporters.”
Excitement from their live studio audience is captured as an infographic is flashed on screen. Date, Time, Location… The static cuts off the visuals as the handler, Heparu, takes over to provide more detail.
Whatever, Till thinks. He can stay shilling himself to those damn aliens.
Everything about that damn prince was manufactured. His calm demeanour and nonchalant attitude to things; the way he walked; the way he talked, even the way he looked around the room was carefully trained to maintain as perfect of an image as possible.
At least, that’d been what he’d heard through the grapevine. The only person who truly knew Luka was dead, so all he had to go off of was stories from the people that knew her. At that point it was a game of telephone from someone who was already looking at the guy with rose tinted glasses.
Once the scratches were sufficiently buffed out, he stood and brushed the dirt off of his jeans. He remembered Dewey making fun of him for ‘choosing fashion over practicality’, but they hadn’t failed him yet so Dewey can get fucked.
”Man, I kinda feel bad for him.” A voice calls from behind him.
Till definitely doesn’t feel bad for him, so he keeps his mouth shut.
”Burned into a little Luka crisp and still performing, you think that’s by choice?”
The rebellion often jokingly gave him shit for being too empathetic, but Till could hold a grudge like nobody’s business. He’d found Isaac to be far more empathetic, especially towards people who’d wronged him. It was a point of contention between Isaac and Dewey, with the latter often failing to see his viewpoint but falling in line anyway.
People respected Isaac, and for good reason. So no matter how flawed Till found his logic, he would always hear him out. Angrily.
“I don’t tend to have sympathy towards people who find it amusing to mimic my dead loved ones.”
”Think about how he was raised, kid. He’s not like you.”
”Kid? You’re not even that much older than me, should I start calling you old man?”
Isaac shot him a pointed look. Till shot one back.
His hands raised in defeat, a look of discontent clear on his face. This was a tactic familiar to him, Isaac would bestow his ‘food for thought’ and leave with that pathetic look on his face. Of course, since no one likes to see him sad, the thought would linger and fester until you gave in and heard him out.
He would not fall for these damn tricks.
Till gave the TV a punch on his way out of the little makeshift garage, he swore he could feel a vein pop as Lukas nonchalant face fuzzed back into existence on the screen.
He really didn’t care to empathise with Luka of all people.
————
That night he dreamt of Ivan.
Laughter when Till was injured.
Love presented as obsession that Till ignored until it was too late.
Feelings that went unspoken.
Till still didn’t understand Ivan fully, but he could at the very least understand that Ivan loved him. It was a weird way to show it, sure, but what could you expect from someone who hadn’t known love.
It pissed him off that Ivan never got the ability to truly love, only able to indulge in the fucked up version his handlers drilled into him.
It pissed him off a little more that Isaacs pathetic face was flashing in his memory every time he dared attempt to fall back asleep.
He recalled stories of Lukas obsession with Hyuna, showing love in the only twisted way he knew how.
Recalled Luka laughing at his pain during their performance.
He thought about being taken away from his mother, her love and her warmth, and how her love formed him into the man he was today.
He thought about Ivan not having anyone to teach him love. Thought about the other boys in the garden, how they treated Mizi. How he had treated Mizi.
Till could hold a grudge like nobody’s business, but thinking about the child behind Luka…
Till can multitask. He can hold a grudge against the current face of Alien Stage, and feel pity for the child that had been failed.
That makes Till pause. The current face of Alien Stage, the main reason why the current season is so highly promoted. Even if Till hated him, he could admit that losing Luka during such a crucial promotional period would surely make a dent in its reputation for the year.
He could probably nab the guy pretty easily too. As far as the aliens are aware the rebellions goal is to rescue children and new recruits, not kidnap the peoples princess.
And the children… The children locked in that cruel enclosure… Luka could have insider information, or at the very least know where to get it.
He could show up to a meet and greet, throw him on the back of his bike, and go. Lock the prick in a room at the rebellion base for a while, a little make shift prison or something. Yeah. A way of getting revenge in a way that’s, really, doing the guy a favour.
Surely they wouldn’t shoot him either, especially if he was carrying such precious cargo.
Till falls asleep pretty easily after that, determination swelling in his chest and the little image of Isaac laughing heartily instead of moping miserably.
————
“Absolutely not.” Dewey is firm in his words as he stands from his place at the meeting table.
”But Isaac said-“ Till starts.
”Okay, no, I just wanted you to feel bad for the guy. I didn’t mean plot to kidnap him!”
Till lets out a huff, crossing his arms and averting his gaze.
”Seriously, what part of me saying I pity him leads to you plotting to nab the guy off of the streets!”
”Okay well, thinking a little clearer he’d probably have security around him so I wouldn’t be able to just get him off of the streets.”
He raises his gaze to look at the duo, their mouths parted in shock.
”How is that your issue! You literally hated the guy yesterday!” Dewey throws his arms up in exasperation. ”I want you to sit there and walk us through your train of thought, because it is far too early for you to just walk up to us and say ‘hey, I’m going to go kidnap this guy! Okay bye!’, you understand how insane that is surely!”
He’s 28, far to old to be pouting, but thats what he’s doing. He turns away sheepishly, ears burning as the older men reprimand him.
Isaac leans back in his chair, adjusting his hat and motioning for Dewey to sit back down. Dewey does so reluctantly, but doesn’t tuck his chair in all the way. Till laughs a little, knowing he was just preparing to leap to his feet dramatically again.
The room is silent, save for the tapping of Dewey's fingers on the old wooden table in front of them. There’s a board in the room, decorated with maps and targets and mission plans. The floor is caked in a grime that they’d tried to scrub out a million times. It’s a shitty meeting room, but it’s all they have.
“I mean, just think about it. He’s such a key player in Alien Stage, it’ll be a heavy hit for him to just vanish! Especially so soon before the next season, and his little promotional tour starts in three days!” He reasoned, breaking the silence. “We don’t know if he’s there willingly, but from what you’ve told me Hyuna wanted to save him from that life. We have the chance to do that now.”
”It’s a low blow to bring her into this.” Isaac muttered, scrunching his brows and closing his eyes. His fingers rub at his temples in slow circles.
He knew it was low. He hadn’t even considered Hyuna until he stepped foot into the meeting room. He wasn’t even all that passionate about the saving Luka side of things, but this was an opportunity to save even more people. Insider information from a human that the aliens adored and revered as a perfect pet would be invaluable to their cause.
”I need some time to think about this.” Isaac muttered.
”But his meet and greet is in three days-“
”I need some time.” Till fell silent, heart racing. “This is a big decision. That is the earliest opportunity, not our only opportunity.”
He lowered his gaze to the floor, irritated by the lack of urgency. If they didn’t take this opportunity when it was handed to them so neatly, when would they be given the chance again?
Isaac stood, ruffling Tills hair as he exited the room with Dewey trailing behind him.
“Don’t do anything stupid, we have time.” Was his parting words before they left Till alone in the meeting room.
Till had matured over time, and he was proud of how far he’d come. He was more open with his feelings, he could share and contribute ideas to ongoing discussions, he was even less stubborn now - able to admit when he was wrong.
Unfortunately, the key words there were ‘less stubborn’.
He pulled his notebook out of his jacket pocket, flipping to the page where he’d noted the details of Lukas little promo tour.
3 days time in the city centre. It was an evening event, and considering Luka supposedly lived nearby they would be travelling when they sky was already dark. There was no indication of how guarded the travel would be, but from fan footage Luka always travelled in a non-descript car of sorts in order to blend in with the crowds. Hard to identify.
Of course, Heparu couldn’t help but want to stand out from the general public. Whilst the car itself was non-descript, the front of the car where Heparu and the chauffeur would sit was the pinnacle of performative luxury. Padded chairs, golden accessories, the works.
In three days time, if Isaac hadn’t come to a decision, Till knew what he had to do.
He had a rough time, a location and a description.
He was going to kidnap Luka, for the greater good.