KAIRI

I opened my eyes and heard the sirens of people, of panic, of fear, of bloodthirsty growls. Everything was blurry and I blinked; now I could see a figure resting his head on my side, the bright blonde crew cut, a shock of colour to my dim vision. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes, groaning at the pain that spasmed through my arm when I lifted it. The head looked up. It was Baekho.

“Kairi!” he exclaimed, his relieved grin and warm embrace making me smile.

I patted his biceps and paused. I traced a mysterious line on his skin and grabbed hold of his arm; despite him telling me it was nothing. My stomach recoiled the moment I recognized a deep flesh wound that thanks to him being an INVICTUS, had only been demoted to a scar. It looked like something had hooked onto it and with repulsive glee, pulled out a gracious chunk of meat.

“What is this—?” That was when I looked around me and realized where I was. The cave.

Déjà vu slammed into my chest and left an echo of confusion as I recognized the infirmary, the very first place I had been welcomed to on my first day here. However, instead of the sole bed on which I was lying down on, the entire room was now occupied with beds and mattresses, oxygen tanks, IV fluids and packs of blood hanging off rods and heart monitors, the ominous beeping resonating through the walls.

My eyes slowly drifted to Baekho, who gave me a pained look and a sheepish smile.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice hardly coherent. Baekho patted my head and sighed.

“It’s begun,” he said. “Everyone is upstairs, fighting.”

My jaw fell slack open and when Baekho continued, (“The battle started two days ago, you’ve been sleeping for a week. Lay knocked you out well,”) I swung my legs off and with great difficulty stood on them. Unfortunately a week’s catharsis was bound to take time and so I collapsed to the floor, my entire body feeling like jelly.

“Lay has some explaining to do,” I muttered.

“He’s not here,” Baekho said, lifting me back on the bed. “EXO didn’t expect the violence to be of this scale, that too at such an early stage. They disappeared the moment we reached here.”

I remembered Lay and Xiumin’s friendly smiles and clenched my fists, angry and frightened. “Traitors—”

Before I could rant about the legitimacy of my recent friendships, a group of people ran in with one of them in someone’s arms. My eyes widened when I recognized Hoya transporting Yoona to the bed, his eyes meeting mine with nothing less than a blank nod of appreciation. I gulped at the blood seeping out of different places on Yoona’s body, her pale and slender figure making it look like someone had simply brushes of red paint all over her canvas of skin. Nicole saw me and murmured “thank God”, quickly running back to the entry while Zelo and Hoya stayed back, looking down at Yoona.

“You woke up,” Yoona said in a restrained tone.

“Don’t talk,” I chided her. She gave me a small smile and patted a hand that was resting on hers, murmuring that she was fine. I looked up and found out it was Hoya’s hand, his dark eyebrows furrowed in a deep crease of worry.

“Who did this?”

It was L, marching in and trembling with anger. I noticed how Hoya instantly pulled away from the bed while L took over, beating down on the frail body with intensity.

“Who did this to you?” he growled.

“It’s a battle L, someone was bound to…”

“Just shut up and tell me!” L shouted. Yoona closed her eyes, the wave of fury shocking her. She took a deep breath and murmured, “Hyunshik. The one with the studded mask---”

L was out of the room in no time and Yoona was left staring at his back with sad wistfulness. She looked at Hoya who simply nodded and ran out of the room, the sight of his blood-red sword knocking the breath out of me. Zelo hesitated but when Yoona told him to leave, he disappeared in a flash.

Yoona closed her eyes and just when I was ready to shout out for help, I heard her breathing with consistency. I wished her a deep sleep and turned away to look towards the entry, fearing the identity of the new voices that were rushing inside.

“…make sure that she doesn’t have to do anything until I say so!”

Woohyun.

I cried out his name and within seconds, he ran out from the darkness and jumped in my arms. For the first time I cried upon seeing him, embracing him tightly and refusing to let go for the first five seconds. Woohyun let me weep and ran his fingers through my hair, slowly prying my hands off his shirt as I continued bidding him to stay.

“I will, I will,” he whispered, hushing me as I began gasping in between sobs, giving me one final embrace when I had calmed down. His jaw stiffened when he saw Yoona and when I asked him, “Who all are out there?” his lips trembled when he replied with, “Our numbers have gone down.” He then looked over his shoulder with grim anticipation. I waited for the body that he had come along with. It was Junhyung.

Dongwoo and Sungjong were trying to get Junhyung to walk, but with one look it was evident that all was hopeless. The man’s limbs had been twisted beyond belief and a nasty cut had torn his face right down from his left eye to his neck. Blood and pus were convoluting on his wound and when he saw me stare at him, he grinned and sang out, “Ohaiyo.”

Sungjong was crying and with a swipe at his tears, he laid Junhyung down and ran out of the room. Dongwoo gave the limp body a blank look, his wide eyes shifting to me. He nodded and I nodded back, a telepathic understanding of what was going to happen next.

“Kairi.”

I looked down at the injured man with disbelief. Junhyung and I were hardly friends and the only acquaintance I could call him with was that of him being a good friend’s boyfriend. Hara had been one of the few nice people when Woohyun had brought me in the first time. Junhyung had always been on neutral ground and I had always wondered whether he really wanted to fight or just give up.

“Tell Hara she looks better with long hair,” he murmured. My intestines tightened and I looked at Woohyun, who was not meeting my eyes.

“Woohyun,” Junhyung called out. Woohyun didn’t look.

“Hey, I’m not that bad looking,” he joked and began coughing violently. That caught Woohyun’s attention and by the time the latter ran all the way from my bed to his, silence had crept in.

“Is he---?”

Woohyun hushed me and then silently covered Junhyung’s face with the bed sheet. I clamped my mouth down and covered it with my hand, closing my eyes to lock the tears in. Another round of echos began reverberating from the passage and I looked at Woohyun.

“More?” I said. Woohyun looked at me and gave a sad smile. My eyes followed him as he ran ahead to help Hoya and Zelo carry a bludgeoned Sungyeol to a corner bed.

“A war has begun Kairi,” he said, “And no war is complete without casualties.”

Right then and there, I decided that the General’s death was written on my hands; his blood would stain the heartlines on my palm and then, my life would begin.

                                                                                EXO

The silence was intimidating, slicing through the air and giving no space to any sound --- save the breathing of the twelve monks. The tall blonde one looked like a statue, as if someone had carved him out for a king. The porcelain monk sitting opposite to him wore an expression of perpetual calmness, a calmness that could only be achieved from being pained too much. These two were sitting inside a concentric circle, the inner circumference marked by five maroon robed counterparts and the outer circumference completed by five grey robed ones. The monks were in meditation, seated right underneath the dome that was slowly teasing the light of the noon on them.

A few minutes passed and finally, the sun moved overhead, beaming on them like a symbol of enlightenment. The first to open his eyes was the porcelain faced, his auburn mane likening him to a vengeful wolf. The tall blonde man followed right after and when the two cast a meaningful glance at the emerald green ember glowing in the corner, the fiery-haired one rose up and announced, “It’s time.”

The remaining ten monks opened their eyes and within a second, the temple was empty.

Meanwhile, the emerald ember continued burning. A murmur echoed from its core and suddenly, the fire spoke:

“Zeus will suffer great pain… Athena will rise… The dark dragon will be confronted… by his own legacy…”

                                                                         PARAGON

“Was he the one who compromised us?”

The three handsome men looked up at the source of the meek voice, a young man who looked like all his blood had been dried up by the fire of the city. Following the public execution of three rebels, one of them being the General’s daughter Kairi, factions of unrest had begun forming and the right to assemble had been struck off the Constitution (along with many other rights) due to ‘emergency’. Martial law had been ‘officially imposed’ and suddenly, the machines of Paragon were working on oil that was more vital than the muck of the past. Lying on the conference table was however a clear object of evidence, which proved nothing but the power of the General, which proved nothing but the fact that this too, shall pass.

Yoochun, the man without a jacket on his shoulders, chuckled. He traced the blood splattered on his white shirt and noticed how Joon was desensitizing himself to the gory image by staring at it with relative intensity.

“Don’t force yourself kiddo,” he said, slapping the young District Officer’s back, who flinched and grimaced. “One day, you too shall have the honour of punishing future traitors.”

“There will be no future traitors under my command,” Joon hissed and narrowed his eyes at his senior. Behind them the General grunted, impressed with his disciple’s conditioned words.

“I just hope this all ends before Christmas,” the old man said, stretching his arms and cracking his neck. “I don’t want to ruin my favourite holiday of the year.”

Jaejoong and Junsu smirked while Yoochun erupted into laughter, slapping a flustered Joon on his back even more. The latter ignored the deafening hyena laugh and stared at the body placed him in front of him.

‘Jay Park’, read the tag. ‘Original name : Park Jaebeom.’

“This is what you get,” Joon muttered. “For killing my father.” He forced himself to look into the dead man’s eyes, nothing left of him but muscles and bones. Every inch of skin had been torn off and with pleasure, the five had watched the traitor die of pain.

If only he had no heart, Joon thought. Then he wouldn't have had to suffer. 

"What about the second body?"

"Ah, that blondie?" Yoochun sputtered, trying to hold in another explosion of laughs. "We hung him."

"That's it?" Jaejoong said, sounding disappointed. 

"Hey, we didn't even know why he attacked us. But right after the execution he tried to punch the living out of Junior over here," Junsu motioned at Joon. 

"Maybe he knew Kairi," Jaejoong wondered aloud. The General stiffened and suddenly, the favourites of Paragon gave a modest nod to their boss.

"No one will talk of that double-faced disgrace," the General said. He then waved at Joon and said, "We have important matters to discuss, my son."

"Tsk," Junsu muttered, after the two left the office. "What are we then?"

"It's okay," Jaejoong said, yawning loudly. "That kid is just a puppet. Let him feel important, he's not doing any harm to us."

"Still," Junsu complained. "The General never favours us---"

"NO ONE favours us," Jaejoong interrupted. The room fell silent. He looked at his two partners and repeated, "No one favours us. And therefore, every one fears us."

A nod of understanding was exchanged and all peace was restored.