“I know what you’ve done.”

Minho looked up from his crossed arms, finally giving Kapsoo the slightest amount of interest. During the entire time Kapsoo had spoken, Minho neglected him, listening to Bom’s strong voice passing through his head, telling him jokes and stories of the past.

But with Kapsoo’s new information, Minho decided to let Bom take a rest.

I’ll talk later. Go to sleep.

Yes, sir. Bom sent him an image of her saluting.

  “And what have I done?” Minho uncrossed an arm, placing it on the table.

Kapsoo drew closer, eyes dead, “You saved the Warrant.”

Minho didn’t flinch, but tapped his fingers on the table, in his cheeks, “And if I did?”

  “All part of the plan.”

Minho’s eyes met Kapsoo, his mind slowly rolling off the edge at his crude smirk, “Plan?”

Kapsoo leaned back in his chair, waving his hand around, “I told you there were still things you didn’t know. Like this.”

  “And what do you make out of this, Kapsoo?” Minho leaned in, “I saved a fellow creature. You don’t have friends, so you don’t know what it’s like to care for one, do you? I do. So, yeah, I saved the Warrant.”

Kapsoo smiled deviously, his hand waving again to set off some sort of signal, “To save her? Are you sure it was just for the sake of a petty friendship? Perhaps it is a power thing. With what I’ve gathered, Daegrents are the top of the chain and have utmost power. Are you sure it wasn’t to control your surroundings? To keep a loyal subject at hand?” Kapsoo raised his brows, “Especially one who directly relates to your crown? It was quite fortunate of you to find her in the first place, so why would you lose out on such a valuable scroll?”

Minho wasn’t surprised Kapsoo’s intel had suffered through a major mishap of information, so it hadn’t bothered him in the slightest. Minho knew he had no want for power but to be among equal; he could laugh in Kapsoo’s face about it. Or maybe he could mess with him a bit.

  “Of course,” Minho curved one side of his mouth upward, “Read me like a book, why don’t you. Of course controlling her is my whim. I get to know so much, get to fix mistakes made in the past, get to control another body. All just to tell you this and let you wonder, ‘What in Hell does he now know that I want him to share with me?’ Perfect for me, unfortunate for you.” Minho felt something internally kicking him on the inside, disagreeing with Minho’s choice.

Minho, Bom warned, Don’t do this.

I thought I told you to go to sleep.

Bom huffed, And with what you’re doing, Daesung is telling you no. He’s disappointed.

Minho stared into the wall past Kapsoo and internally sighed, Right, he’s still here . . . Go to sleep. It’s fine.

You’re shouting everything at me; it’s kind of hard to sleep when you’re putting everything on me.

Well then how do I stop that?

Stop thinking about me, idiot.

Minho hid his small smile behind his hand, pretending to rub his face. He could feel amusement—Most likely again, Daesung, Kind of hard when you’re the subject.

I know, but stop it.

  “Is that so?” Kapsoo raised his brows again.

Minho shook his head, “Nope. The first one was true. The second one was to mess with you,” he chuckled, “It looks like you caught me in the lie, but at the same time, it sounds like you believed it.”

Kapsoo frowned, sighing as he rubbed his eyes with one hand, scrunching his mouth up, “I can get no where with you, and truth is, you’re still one of the easy ones.”

  “Sure,” Minho shrugged.

  “We know one of our people brought you to the Warrant,” Kapsoo then pointed out, fidgeting with one of his sleeves, trying to fold it upward, “No, she won’t receive penalty. She was the first to receive the Warrant in its condition, and with her background knowledge from her education, we know she thought of bonding. With you as her first choice, we don’t know why, but we were egging it to be you. A tradition, you may say?

  “Though, she’s still suspicious. I know you can be very lenient towards being dragged places, but she dragged you out directly by herself.”

Minho stared at Kapsoo, “What do you want from me?” it was more of a statement than a question.

  “What is this woman to you, Daegrent?”

  “My nurse,” he calmly replied, “Whenever I go in, it’s always her on duty. I assumed we were assigned nurses according to what we were or something.”

Kapsoo nodded thoughtfully, “So that’s why she went straight to you. You two are familiar.”

  “Not really,” Minho lied, crossing his arms, looking innocent, “She just heals me up. We don’t talk, but she was panicked about this.”

  “She’s also been reported to have been visiting Taemin, as well,” he pressed his lips together, as if waiting for a rebuttal.

Minho raised his brows, “. . . What?”

Kapsoo then appeared lost; buying the lies Minho had put out and sighed, rubbing his forehead.

Minho actually found it quite fun to mess around with lies.

Lie anytime, and I’ll know it. Try lying to me once and see what happens, Minho. Just try me.

Minho almost slapped his forehead, Bom. . . He officially pushed her out of his head and locked his brain up, done with anymore of her intervening. Kapsoo was getting more serious and it could possibly lead to something new. He had to focus. Even if that meant he had to tell Bom about everything later.

  “Well, never mind about that,” Kapsoo rubbed his eyes before taking a violent cough, “That is unimportant now.”

  “No,” Minho still feigned his innocence and persisted, “What are you talking about?”

  “So, that Warrant,” Kapsoo proceeded on, “You two have a bond now. Tell me, what’s that like?”

Minho leaned back and folded his arms, “It’s unimportant,” he slightly copied his previous words.

  “I want to know about bonding,” Kapsoo expressed his curiosity, “Please, help me.”

Minho huffed a laugh sarcastically, “Go find someone else.”

Kapsoo wasn’t like SangJung; he didn’t growl like SangJung, but instead he huffed like an old man not getting his way. He ran his hand through his thinned gray hair and wiped his mouth, “SangJung has been very eager about the Warrant. What would happen if your dear Bom went away?” he leaned forward, knocking on the table tauntingly.

Minho paused and looked at Kapsoo. His protectiveness barrier was put up, but he wasn’t the only one doing it—Daesung was somewhere in there doing it too. But Daesung also wanted to lunge at the man.

It was the first time Minho actually felt a presence within him since bonding with Bom, and he’s figuring that he somehow woke the King up after the ritual. Having another person inside of him meant he had to control double the anger issues.

And if Daesung could start talking to him, Minho would get easily annoyed because he didn’t speak ancient.

  “What do you mean ‘went away’?” Minho dared to ask.

Kapsoo knocked on the table again, a great, unattractive, smile plastered on his face, “There we go. We just want your help, Minho. We figure, if we take things from you, you’ll fess up. Where do you think the dog went?”

Minho stood up to eagerly, slamming his hands on the table even though he could feel Daesung trying to stop him, “What are you doing?!”

  “There’s more to the story, aren’t I right?” Kapsoo raised his brows and stood from his chair, slowly walking to the door, “We know much more than you think, Minho. Where else would the dog be?”

Minho threw the table to the side, “I swear to god, Kapsoo—” Minho looked around the room, “—And you, too, SangJung! I swear, you both—Ah. . .” Minho’s head started burning; he started losing it.

  “You two see each other a lot,” Kapsoo went on, “Friends, I assume. No one gets too friendly around here, you know.”

  “Where is he?” Minho grit his teeth and looked at Kapsoo, “Where?”

Kapsoo shrugged, “It’s okay to be like this. He got the same way when we had our chat. Can’t assure he’s okay, though.”

Minho wanted nothing more to stop his short-temper for the sake of knowing where Jonghyun was. He was hurt? He needed help?

Minho couldn’t feel the guilt of it at the very moment, though. As much as he was being encouraged to calm down, Jonghyun was threatened and hurt. Jonghyun was the next best thing from Taemin, from any of his human friends, and he couldn’t afford to cause him any more trouble. If only he bonded with Jonghyun, too. . .

  “Bom was supposed to die that night,” Kapsoo leaned beside the door, watching as SangJung came in with his gruff voice, “Like the way it was done before Joseon. Before any of this became ours,” he gestured to the entire room—the entire empire.

  “You killed off the Royals,” Minho’s eye twitched.

Minho’s heart pounded hard. Daesung was clearly awake at this point: his own anger was rising and this was the point Minho had to deal with both of their emotions. Minho swore he could hear feint screams and shouts and swears that weren’t his own. He could feel rage bury under his skin and crawl his throat.

In a sense, Minho knew Daesung already concluded it was the humans who had to have killed off the Royals, but it seems that actually hearing a confession set Daesung off.

  “Family-friend business,” SangJung gestured to himself and Kapsoo, “We’ve known they were a threat since the beginning. Before words were created. When pictures on walls were everything. And to think we adapted their languages. Think about it, Minho, every language, every thought, was originally by them. Wouldn’t that enrage you? That you have no independence from them? That they come first every time? If we gained independence, we all would cease.”

Minho felt Daesung’s shout up his throat and he swallowed it hard as if he were stopping himself from throwing up. He wished he hadn’t thrown the table. He needed something to grip—and throw, again.

  “You creatures,” SangJung spat, “Think you can do whatever you want.” Minho felt the déjà vu.

  “You think you had it figured out. Hide behind the trees. Hide behind our skin.

  “Bom was supposed to die if it weren’t for you doing what Kapsoo hoped for,” SangJung tsked, “I know something’s up with you, Minho. And I’m giving you these warnings to quit it before someone else gets hurt.”

Minho kicked his chair back that he heard it come in contact with the wall and stay in it. He had to protect Onew and Luna. He couldn’t let them fall again, “Who else is there to hurt?! Those two are all I’ve got, so why don’t you quit it?!”

  “SangJung,” Kapsoo tapped on his arm, “The girl has nothing to do with him.”

SangJung sharply turned his head, “Are you sure?”

Kapsoo stared at him hard, “Don’t doubt me, or I swear, SangJung . . .”

Minho wanted to laugh over his wish to shout at SangJung. The elder man had slightly shrank in size to Kapsoo and nodded his head in recovery. Minho was seeing the inferior side of SangJung once again. To a helpless elder, to top that.

  “Nonetheless,” SangJung turned back to Minho, “Your accomplices. We have plenty of their types. The Warrant can die. The Taerant will be stashed away below. If you don’t think about it, you’re not the only one facing consequences.”

Minho swore at SangJung venomously, his humor lost as quickly as he got it. Minho said he wasn’t going to take SangJung’s ever since their last meet and he still wasn’t going to take his threats now. He didn’t want to kneel down, even if that meant harming someone else. His pride was too up high and too confident that he’d stop anything from happening to Bom or Jonghyun—even Onew and Luna.

  “The Taerant may not make it,” SangJung spoke again.

Minho’s head snapped up and next thing he knew, SangJung’s collar was in his hands, pushing him up against the wall without any regret.

Minho knew Jonghyun wasn’t going to die—that it was a bluff—but he could just feel how severely Jonghyun may have been abused just from that statement.

Daesung didn’t want to back down anymore—Minho could feel the grudge he was holding after the confession, and he heard wishes for the human race who were like SangJung to fall by their own cause. Minho would’ve never thought Daesung, a peaceful King, to be so hostile.

  “I’m going to ing kill you,” Minho warned, his vision flashing.

Kapsoo slammed his hand on the door to alert the others but Minho kept on, unflinching.

  “I won’t rest until you’re through,” Minho threatened.

  “Neither will I,” SangJung presented no hesitation.

Daesung slammed SangJung to the wall this time, his words processing to the modern day dialect and climbing Minho’s throat, “The poison,” he shook him, “The cure to the poison!”

SangJung kicked Daesung back, adjusting his collar roughly, “Why is that any concern? There isn’t any. It’s only a, what’s it called, miracle your so called ‘bonding’ works. Can’t ever get your hopes up.”

Daesung slammed Minho’s back to the wall. Minho grabbed on to his long hair in agitation as he tried to control the Daegrent who was fighting for his body and his voice. Daesung was so enraged and Minho just knew this was unlike him.

Stop it, Minho ordered him. Stop using me like that—I said stop!

Minho felt a snap internally and he could feel his body fall to the ground as his mind went elsewhere.

Black and white memories passed Minho’s eyes second by second, shifting from place to place and time to time. It made Minho almost sick.

Daesung was in every memory; Minho was always standing a few feet from him.

Minho could hear the ailing and screaming of voices dying and shriveling up in age. Each memory, Daesung was frantically moving from creature to creature in their forms, trying to figure out a solution.

As each memory passed, Daesung began biting down on many creatures’ necks, drawing out black liquid from his mouth and to the ground.

From creature to creature, the outcome varied. Some could open their eyes, some breathed, some could walk again, some could smile anew.

Most others laid unmoving.

To each of the unmoving creatures, Daesung fell to his knees or hovered above them, his hair hiding his eyes as his body shook of despair.

He held on to their faces, shaking them, biting them again—even clamping his teeth down over their wrists, their chests, their arms, legs . . . but the outcome wouldn’t change.

There were so many memories—centuries and centuries, maybe—of Daesung looking for a cure, trying to figure out if bonding every creature was the cure.

But then Daesung had also come to figure about those who were already bonded—like Bom. There was no way he could save a bonded soul, but there had to be some solution.

Over each memory, Daesung was becoming a mess. Dark circles visibly developed, his hair was always in a disarray, his clothes were always torn or there was barely anything their. It was like he was turning into a mad scientist going . . . well, mad.

The flittering of memories stopped on a vision of Daesung composed again.

He looked himself once more, but tired and worn, slowly stepping forward to a place.

But Daesung cut Minho off from there.

Minho was too groggy to bother opening his eyes when he felt reality hit him. His body ached badly and burned as if he were just on fire—which he didn’t doubt.

It was hard to think with a splitting headache and just waking up and he wanted to fall back asleep. But he didn’t know where he was and who he could be with so he couldn’t fall back asleep.

He couldn’t believe he fainted again. Or Daesung knocked him out. Either way, he wasn’t proud.

Realizing Daesung was stronger than he thought, it was more than just handling another person—it was like the final boss of a video game. The strength is a lot higher than the other bosses.

Why wasn’t Daesung awoken before though? Was it only for Bom?

And just how long was he going to stay?

Minho groaned, slightly stretching before opening his eyes, finding himself on the floor facing a rather large, impenetrable door. He got up from the floor to see that he truly wasn’t back in his room but not in interrogation either.

It was a slightly larger room than his own, but to Minho, that didn’t matter once he turned around.

  “Jonghyun!”

The Taerant was situated awkwardly against the corner of two walls on a very low bed. Minho hurried to him and fell to his knees, afraid to touch him, “. . . Jjong?”

Jonghyun’s head slightly lifted up—his own face groggy—to just barely get a glimpse of Minho, laying his head on the wall, revealing abuse Minho never wished on him, “Minho—how did you even get here?”

Minho held his hands out but still didn’t know what to do—he was afraid to touch him.

Jonghyun’s face had been beaten badly. Red and blue littered his face and some scratches were received down his neck. His left arm was held to his chest and Minho was afraid it was broken with the way it something about it seemed out of place. He had his left leg straight out and at the same time, it was being held out in an awkward-mangled way. Minho got goosebumps and refused to remove that pant leg. There were deep scratches and large bruises on any limb that was surfaced to see and Minho knew there were surely more under his clothes.

  “Oh my god . . .” Minho shook his head, his hands curling and falling to the bed, “Oh my god . . . Jonghyun, I’m so sorry. . .”

Jonghyun smiled with a small laugh but cut it short quickly, “I’ve been through worse, Minho.”

Minho looked at Jonghyun with disbelief, almost exploding, “Does that even matter? It still happened! It looks awful and I bet it feels even worse!”

  “We heal quickly,” he simply said, “Don’t start getting guilty.”

  “If you heal quickly,” Minho pointed out, “You’d be healed by now.”

Jonghyun closed his eyes, “Minho, this was just a day ago. Give it time.”

Minho stood up and turned into a stumbling mess, hitting the wall (that felt like it hit him) to prevent anything else, “Yesterday? This happened yesterday? You’ve been missing for weeks!”

  “You don’t think they’ve already done it in those weeks?” Jonghyun humorlessly laughed again, “Calm down.”

  “Jonghyun—!”

Jonghyun’s right hand hit the same wall.

  “You owe me big time because I didn’t rat our asses out!” Jonghyun growled, “So you owe me to calm the hell down and sit!”

Minho bit his tongue to scold himself and sat down on the floor gruffly, feeling defiant, but he knew not to.

  “Thank you,” Jonghyun looked at Minho and rolled his eyes, “When you at least turn as old as I am, you’ll realize how annoying kids under a-hundred are when they’re angry. It’s like someone took their baby blanket.”

Minho sighed and rubbed his face, “I’m sorry.”

Jonghyun took his right leg and tapped on Minho’s knee with his foot, “It’s okay,” he retracted his foot, “I wasn’t going to tell them, anyway.”

  “I know you wouldn’t,” Minho sighed again, looking up to the picture of abuse, “But this . . . this isn’t worth it. Just . . . look at you . . .”

Jonghyun clicked his tongue and closed his eyes again, “I’m still more attractive than your sorry . That’s all I’m basing my happiness off of.”

Minho could smile a little at that, “You’re welcome.”

Jonghyun opened his eyes a huffed a laugh again, just barely opening his right eye, “So. It’s been weeks and you look like a wreck. And you even made it here—the special section of the prison. I guess they’re figuring things out one by one, eh?”

  “No,” Minho refused, “They can’t. Luna isn’t suspicious anymore. They can’t figure out most of the plan now. That’s good enough.”

Jonghyun furrowed his brows, adjusting his lean on the wall slightly, “Wait, what happened with Luna?”

Minho held his hand up as he looked over Jonghyun’s body again, “First, we need a Warrant to fix you up.”

  “She doesn’t know where we are, ,” Jonghyun lifted one side of his lips.

  “You’ve missed a lot,” Minho sighed.

Minho, what the happened?!

Both Minho and Daesung flinched.

----Note~----

I've updated a day before, omfg. I'm magical by this point.

I've been writing this chapter since, like, five. I planned on doing it earlier 'cuz we had no school. Ice on roads. >:D

But sick.

Still. 

Always. xD

I'm sorry it's starting to sound like a lame excuse, though. I really am, so it's hard to get the want or energy to started writing or typing. It's growing to the point I resent it.

BUT THE STORY MUST GO ON.

Ugh this chapter was a hassle. I was looking at the planout going "WHAT'S GOING TO GET MINHO IN THE ROOM WITH JONGHYUN??" and this is what I came up with, unfortunately.

And I don't know how to fix it, but it's an accident that Daesung starts to like, be a huge part of Minho. So excuse that, because he's not really supposed to have a part in this. He'll 'die' back down into just being a part of Minho that's in the back of his mind and the pit of his heart. Yup.

THIS AUTOSAVE NOTIFICATION POPPING UP IN THE CORNER KEEPS DISTRACTING ME I FORGET WHAT I WAS SAYING.

I don't think anyone noticed, because I literally noticed (cuz all the irony), I made Kapsoo say "... so why would you lose out on such a valuable scroll?"

I remembered that Minho told Bom that Warrants weren't even mentioned in the scrolls of history.

Omfg all the irony.

I'm sorry. I had no idea I had literature/English humour.

And 'humour' reminds me. I spell these kinds of things the English way, not the American way. And I try SO HARD not to spell like that because it throws people off??? I'M NOT ENGLISH EITHER. 

WE FOUND JJONG, YAAY~

(Way to excited.)

Poor bby, I'm sorry I did this to you. I promise it'll get better... soon. Maybe.

Oh.

But where's Onew...

Mystery, hm?

Anyway, this note is too big.

Hope you enjoyed!

Thank you to any view, comment, and sub.

I know select comment, and I'm sorry for not replying, but I HAVE read them! I just... I want to say I don't have the energy, but at the same time I either don't know what to say or too lazy.

But know I love you, regardless. <3

~FlaMinhoe