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Chapter 15: A Snake in the Reeds

"When do you think he’ll be back?” Kyungsoo asks Jongdae, his face strewn in concern, hand fidgeting uncontrollably on his lap.

“I don’t know. Don’t look for him.”

“But—”

“Don’t.”

Kyungsoo grumbles into his fists, frustration and worry clear on his face.

It’s been two days. Two days since Kai disappeared from their room. Two day since Kyungsoo’s seen him last. the only reason Kyungsoo knew he was alive was Lay’s updates. Ever since that day Kai only contacted Lay.

It irked Kyungsoo to no end.

The nonstop secret war meetings ever since the incident was of no help in trying to ease his mind. After the initial meeting with Baekhyun regarding his attack, the group came to a consensus that the attack had been planned.

They also wanted to question Jiya, but she was too visibly shaken that Junmyeon and the rest decided that Baekhyun’s take would suffice. There was also the matter of Suho and his relevance to the war ahead. It took them four or five meetings, but they eventually came to a consensus.

 Junmyeon, Jessi and Minho were to rally the citizens in preparation for a full on battle. They also had the task appeasing the elders while the rest went about their business. Meanwhile, Glasskeep reinforced outer defenses and administered drills specifically geared for Naga attacks.

And as another precautionary measure, they’ve setup the Secret Guard: two secret guards assigned by each group to take watch of the altar every night. It was decided that the delegation of Sanctuary send one every night, and other two groups would interchange sending one. And as an extra precaution, only the group and their guard will know who will be assigned for the night.

 It was also decided that Kyungsoo’s group would continue their search for Suho in the hopes of finding an ally in him. Lay, Jongdae and Kyungsoo chose to continue with just the three of them, leaving Kai going through his training and Chanyeol helping Baekhyun with his.

So far, their search has been fruitless. So Jongdae and Kyungsoo chose to sift through scrolls to find anything on Suho and the Bakunawa.

“Your desperation is amusing.”

Kyungsoo scowls from his scroll. They’re in the small library once again, cramped into the small room filled with shelves of scrolls ranging from herbal practices in the island, cultural recipes, and poems. They were here for history, however, since documentation only started from fifty years ago, they’ve settled with folk tale to find mentions of Suho or the bakunawa.

 He goes back to reading on the folk songs of the Misty Isles. Kyungsoo’s just gone through a very interesting folk song about a woman of the sea who fell in love with a man from the island, so much so that she sacrificed her sisters to turn human.

“Kyungsoo, I’ve been thinking about something.”

Kyungsoo grunts, still entranced by the tragedy of the song.

“I feel there’s something more to Baekhyun’s attack.”

This makes Kyungsoo look up from his text, his eyes suddenly transfixed at Jongdae’s form.

“What do you mean?”

Jongdae straightens up and moves closer to Kyungsoo, ducking his head to look like he’s reading with Kyungsoo.

“There’s something that unsettles me. Something about the entire scenario. The naga knew where the stone was. But Junmyeon says that not even the citizens know about it. It’s unsettling.”

“Are you insinuating that there is someone in the island who’s working with the naga?”

Jongdae nods solemnly, eyes never leaving the scroll.

“How come the naga knew that that night would be the only one where the mist wouldn’t rise? Not to mention, it knew where it was hidden, I don’t think heading to the altar was a coincidence.”

Kyungsoo’s face sterns, eyes boring into the scroll much more intently, “I assume that you’re telling me this now because you need my help.”

Jongdae nods again.

“Do you have a hunch about who it may be?”

“The easy answer is Minho.” 

“Yes, but I don’t think it’s him. He’s loyal to Junmyeon, more than anyone else in this island.”

Jongdae nods, “Same thoughts, he’s too in love and too loyal,” he says, “Too loyal to the point that he can’t see straight,” Jongdae’s voice is low as he blindly moves the scroll forward, eyes never meeting Kyungsoo’s. But his voice did.

Kyungsoo’s eyes flare up.

“You can’t mean.”

 “He’s been acting very suspicious. I talked to Jessi, and apparently he’s been taking sleeping pills lately.”

“But Lay.”

Jongdae sidles up to Kyungsoo, “I know. That’s why I’ve been keeping it in, but by the slightest chance that he’s been compromised,” Jongdae pauses, eyes preening through the empty space, ears perceiving for the slightest of sounds, “We can’t take the risk, we have to take him down.”

Kyungsoo is a little shocked at the accusation, but as it stands they were running on empty. They were trying to catch a shadow in the night, they had to take the risk.

 “I’m going to shadow him, give me a day or two.” Jongdae murmurs, “Be wary, since you’re on guard tonight.”

At the same time, Kai sits in a secluded portion of the forest, his breathing calm.

Lay suggested this while they were walking back to the Baekhyun.

“Your powers manifest differently from ours, that’s why you’re having such a difficult time with this.”

Kai looks at him, as they trudge through the ancient wood.

“All of us transmit our powers at a single point,” Lay says “ When I heal someone, I transmit it through my hands. When Chanyeol creates fire, he transmits it to his sword. When Kyungsoo punches a metal door, he’s launching energy directly at the door. But you don’t.”

Kai regards Lay as he walks, no, traipses through the woods with a tranquil leap.

“Unlike us you transmit your energy throughout your entire body.”

“So you want me to shoot stuff out of my hands.”

Lay chuckles as he ducks to grab flower that has fallen off its stem and was now lying tiredly on the ground.

“That’s a crude way of saying it, but yes. You have to find a way to direct your energy into one point.”

Jongin stops walking to watch Lay delicately cradle the fallen flower in his hands. It’s a daffodil, the pristine white of the petal tarnished by veins of death stretching through the wilting flesh.

“And how do you propose I do that?”

Lay lifts the flower to Jongin’s face as a green energy surrounds it. Suddenly the gaunt lines start receding as the signs of life return to the frail plant, it’s stem going evergreen, it’s petals white once more.

“Find your core, find where your power resonates, then guide it, transmit it into your hands.”

Lay hands Kai the flower, now in full bloom. When Kai touches it, he feels remnants of Lay ’s power at the edges of the stem. It’s a quiet warmth that moves through his fingertips. The feeling is familiar, like the soft embers of the dying fire in the harsh winter. Coals of amber that glow faintly in a dark night, almost negligible, but alive, still so very alive.

“But I just will myself to teleport somewhere. I don’t how to redirect it somewhere.”

Lay starts walking again, completely ignoring Kai’s worried expression.

“Then will it to come out of your hand. If teleporting is easy, this should be a breeze.”

“Lay !”

Lay doesn’t turn back, “You’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”

Kai found his core. But exhausting all his time and energy trying to do something with it was difficult. He cut all contact with everybody and anybody except Lay, who had become his sort of teacher. The minstrel had the most experience with his powers and knew how energy flow worked. He’s been trying to concentrate on his core, but all his efforts the past two days has given him nothing.

Lay exercised the utmost patience with him whenever he would pop up to whine. The man calmly assuring him that some people required months, even years to fully grasp mastering energy flow.

“It’s a very difficult and rather abstract process,” Lay said, “All energy flows differently depending on how in tune we are to our own body.”

“Then how come Baekhyun dic it so easily.”

Lay nodded, as if he already knew that he was going to ask him about Baekhyun, “If you remember correctly, Baekhyun exploded,” he said, “You were there.”

Kai rolled his eyes, “I hate it when you’re patronizing.”

“I find it cute.” By chance, Junmyeon was there. Kai ignored him.

“That was Baekhyun expelling his powers outward. Unlike you Baekhyun had to learn to control his powers out of necessity. He willed it with all his might to stop. This entire time he’s been trying to suppress it, that’s why it’s easier for him.”

Kai huffs, “We don’t have months, Lay . If Baekhyun’s attack’s any evidence, I’m running on borrowed time.”

“Then work on it rather than whining to me. Really think about it.”

It’s been a difficult few days. He’s been in a secluded corner of the forest trying his best to channel his powers without much success. Now he’s lying on the ground at a total loss of what to do.

He looks to the sky, covered by the canopy of trees above him. The sunlight trickles in like a flowing stream lapping against his face. He can hear the distant crash of waves against the rocks of the mountain, and the smell of the damp earth tickles his nose.

It reminds him of Everdale.

He closes his eyes to the image of the Misty Isles and thinks of the whispers of Everdale. Here it smells of fruits grown by the sun, of vibrant flesh of yellow and gold, but in Everdale it was the scent of pine, of cool breezes and berries. There it was the sound of ships hitting the concrete of the dock as it danced against the gentle rhythm of the calm sea. The sound of voices, the rumble of feet against pavement, the noise of idle chatter, he can almost hear it, taste it, smell it.

It reminds him of Jeremiah.

Kai remembers his warmth, his smile and the pride in his eyes whenever he talked to his adoptive son. He was the first person to show him love. While the world around them saw them as scum of the earth—the dwellers of the dark—Jeremiah showed unflinching kindness. Though people saw him as a thief and a petty criminal, he possessed much more principle than anyone he ever knew.

Jeremiah always told him, “Steal from those who have too much, and give it to someone who needs it. What you steal is not yours, nor is it there’s, it’s for those who need it the most.”

That was when Kai was still Jongin, before all the misfortunes of the past few months. Before his biggest blunder with that disabled boy with the sinister smile that sent shivers down his spine.

Remembering Everdale was always bittersweet. It held so many things that stirred his heart, leaving him remorseful and warm at the same time. But the hardest image of all was the image of Jermiah’s lonely grave hidden in the forest, marked by a single rock, on it written, “Here lies the most honest thief I’ve ever known.” A mere street rat forgotten by the earth and sky, only remembered by a young boy whose heart was aching with the ferocity of a raging sea. To the world, they lost an eyesore in the pristine, bustling metropolis. But to Jongin, he lost the world. He lost the only love he ever knew.

He regrets never saying goodbye. Never saying thank you. Never saying how grateful he was. How grateful he still is.

Jeremiah aspired Kai to become the silent guard of the those who cannot defend themselves from the greed of others. From Jeremiah he did not only learn how to be a thief, he also learned how to be righteous person. He learned from Jeremiah that when justice cannot reign, you carry it our yourself. When the weak stand small, you stand with them. When the rest of the world thinks ill of you, you continue doing what is right.

Kai doesn’t know when he started tearing up, but it was rushing down his face now. Drops of guilt and anger trickling down his face.

He opens his eyes expecting a canopy, but finds that there is none.

He is no longer underneath a canopy of trees. The earth did not smell sun kissed, but rather, damp and dank. He sits up and finds himself in secluded part of a forest, deep within the throng of the bushes and thick roots, where a single stone lay on the floor, on it written “Here lies the most honest thief I’ve ever known.”

He’s back in Everdale.

He stands up abruptly and stares at the grave marker. He’s stilled as he looks into the smooth rock with messy scratches he made in his youth. Through tears he stands up and walks to a nearby creak where he remembers retrieving the rock. Once he’s there, he starts gathering, piling stone after stone into his arms. He’s wet and tears are racing down his face, but he can’t stop. He gathers as many as he can and lugs them to the gravesite. He then embeds a rock a rock around the grave until he’s covered the entire perimeter of the grave. He grabs his knife then takes a final rock and starts etching something onto it.

His tears have stopped falling, streaks of dried liquid marking the edges of his face. His breath is still deep, the soft trembles of his emotional outburst marking each intake of air. He takes his time perfecting the letters, etching each word in a beautiful scrawl.

Once he’s finished, he places the rock beneath the one he wrote all those years ago. Written on it: “Jeremiah, Protector of the Poor, Our Reprieve from the Storm.”

He sits across the grave marker and clutches his knees close to himself.

“Thank you, Jeremiah. I’m sorry it took so long for me to do this, to thank you for everything you’ve given me. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you every day that I love you. I’m sorry I wasn’t the man you thought I would grow up to be.”

He pauses as he feels another set of tears threatening to come out.

“But right now, I need your help. I need to tell me that I can do it. I need you assure me that everything’s going to be alright.”

He ducks his head as the tears start flowing again. The feels the afternoon sun setting, the day was nearing its end. Soon he’d be drenched in darkness. But he doesn’t care, right now he doesn’t care about what’s happening miles and miles away from him, right now he wanted to be with Jeremiah. He wants to be selfish.

He doesn’t know how long he was sitting there, but as soon as he knew it was dusk. Then he hears a soft rustling from behind him. He’s spurred awake, suddenly standing up and clutching onto his dagger as instinctively protects Jeremiah’s grave.

He stays silent as he waits for whatever is hiding in the shadows to come out. He watches as the still woods stirs. Soft footsteps sound through the thicket of trees.

What Kai sees is not something he would ever expect. There standing in a full black traveling cloak was a boy somewhere between ten or twelve.

“A kid?”

The boy stares at Kai, then proceeds to unsheathe his hood, revealing deep seated eyes, a sharp chin and soft brown hair that was parted to one side. His eyebrows framed his face acutely, making him look more severe than he actually did. His face looked like it was sneering, but Kai had a feeling that’s how his face looked all the time.

Even at such a young age, he looked ferocious.

But what was most surprising was that the boy was carrying handpicked flowers. Kai put his knife back in its holster as soon as the kid eyed the knife with a raised eyebrow. 

“Who are you?”

The boy ignores Kai and goes straight to the grave markers, placing the flowers on it. He closes his eyes and joins his hands in prayer, Kai staring at him the entire time.

After the boy finishes his prayer, his eyes direct themselves towards Kai, “You sure took your time.”

Kai is utterly flabbergasted as he continues staring at the boy with a questioning glare.

“What?”

The boy walks to him, ignoring his sudden outburst of confusion, reaching into one the deep pockets of his cloak to fish out a necklace.

It’s mostly black string from the way it sways lamely in the night, but through the faint light, he notes the glint of gold at the end of black lace. But before he can observe it further, the boy throws it to him. Kai, surprised, almost fumbles as he tries to grasp the pendant.

He feels the cold metal against his hand, and realizes that what he’s holding is a hand. The pendant is etched into a golden hand with the pointer and middle finger pointing up, the rest of the fingers furled tightly into the palm. His gaze moves from the necklace to the boy in the cloak.

“Jeremiah wanted you to have it.”

Kai’s eyes widen at his words. The kid’s voice is soft and high pitched, but the tone of his voice sounds nonchalant. There was no trace of softness in it, it sounded too serious on such a young face.

“B-but aren’t you like twelve? How would you even know Jeremiah?”

The boy rolls his eyes, “You’re off a bit.”

“By how many, two years? It still doesn’t make sense. Who are you even?”

“Try a thousand years, boy.”

It seems so weird coming from the mouth of a twelve-year-old boy, but even in his disbelief, Kai is inaudible.

“I know you have about a thousand things going through your young mind, but I can’t answer any of them right now, it’s not the appropriate time.”

Kai is beyond confused.

“Then what is this?” he says raising up the necklace.

The boy huffs, annoyance clear on his face, “It’s something that Jeremiah wanted you to have when the proper time came. Now, I have to leave in a while, so you have to listen to me carefully.”

Kai doesn’t do anything, resigning himself to listening to the small child.

 “Tonight will be a trial. But you have to keep moving forward, you have to keep drawing strength not just from your present, but your past as well.”

The kid moves his eyes to the grave.

“You’ve forgotten where you came from, let history help you move forward,” the boy says, “But don’t let the past consume you.”

There’s a great gust of wind that pushes through the forest, as the boy’s cloak seemingly dances against the strong current his eyes turn tired.

“look, I don’t have much time,” he says hurriedly, “listen to what I have to say, you’ll learn about your pendant when the time is right, just keep it with you. You’ll know when to use it.”

Kai finds his voice, “Why are you helping me? Who are you?”

The boy smirks, “Simple, I’m helping you in the hopes that one day you may help me as well,” the boy says, “As for my name, now’s not the time, just know that I’m a friend.”

Kai attempts to say something, but suddenly there’s another push of wind. They boy’s cloak dances again, seemingly like it’s about to drag him away.

“And before I go, remember to tell your friends that snakes shed their skin.” He says against the torrent of wind. The gust grows stronger as the boy’s robes push against his body with more force, flailing helplessly against the flurry. Kai can’t see the boy’s face anymore, only the movement of his black garment, then the suddenly, it flies away like a wisp of smoke.

On the other side of the world, on the highest peak of the Misty Isles is a face-off no one thought would come.

The mist has enshrouded the island in its familiar murky embrace.

As Jongdae looks into the eyes of a guilty Lay and Junmyeon standing quietly against the backdrop of the fog, he thinks that he has on puzzle solved, but now a bigger puzzle to figure out.  

Junmyeon was Suho, and Lay was protecting his secret.

“You better have a really good explanation as to why you’ve been canoodling here and sending us on a wild goose chase.”

Lay, for the most part, looks remorseful, but Jongdae knows him enough to know that he doesn’t. Lay knew this would come, he’s prepared for something like this to happen, it’s clear in his unworried face. He just didn’t anticipate it to come so quickly.

---

Trailing Junmyeon was easy enough. The young mayor never suspected a thing. It was child’s play, honestly. Even though Junmyeon tried his best to check for anything suspicious happening in his surroundings, he was too inexperienced for the hopes of spotting someone as good as Jongdae.

If Junmyeon were prey, Jongdae could have killed him whenever he wanted.

The hunter thought he finally found his villain, though remorsefully. The great and honorable mayor, someone he almost thought he could consider an ally, the cause of the downfall of the Misty Isles. What news to wake up to.

However, Jongdae was in for another tale, as his villain traipsed to the calm waters of the shoreline and started playing a flute. As he sent a copy of himself to the heart of the village, while the real Junmyeon, no, Suho danced into the forest to play his song.

Jongdae felt guilty even attempting to accuse Junmyeon of betraying his village. As he’s witnessed, Junmyeon loved his village so much it hurt. He was going to reveal himself to the young mayor when a familiar figure appeared before him.

“Well, the secret’s out.”

---

Jongdae looks quietly at the two, and suddenly things made sense. The reason the two have gotten so close in such a short amount of time.

“So this is where you fell in love? Under the moonlight,” he says, voice obviously annoyed, “How romantic.”

Lay shakes his head, “I understand your disappointment, but there’s valid explanation and a not so valid explanation.”

“Please do share the valid explanation before the mayor and his lover get toasted by bolt of lightning.”

“I found him the first night, I asked the plants.”

Jongdae shakes his head, “Of course you did.”

“I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you wanted to tell us,” Jongdae interrupts, his eyes boring directly at Lay.

“Yes, but he needed convincing,” he says tentatively, gauging Jongdae expression. He looks peeved, but nods his head to ask him to continue.

“At first, I wanted to convince him to come with us, it was quite difficult,” he continues eyes never leaving the hunter, “I learned that his role ran deeper, he felt indebted to this island, he was carrying a weight that he could not bear by himself. I stopped trying to convince him to come because I needed to, but because he needed to. Because I needed him to.”

Jongdae looks between the two and sees the warmth in Junmyeon’s eyes. It seems that he did not know this part of the story either. By the way he suddenly held Lay ’s hand with so much conviction, like he never wanted to let it go.

It makes sense how Junmyeon was there during the cave incident, right after Suho disappeared.

“But after the attack, why didn’t you say anything.”

Lay changes his expression, now a bit more apprehensive, “Here comes the not so valid excuse,” he says calmly, “We discussed it, but something tells me that there’s a traitor in our midst. I didn’t want to compromise Junmyeon when we least expected it.”

Lay doesn’t expect Jongdae to smirk.

“It would be hypocritical for me to think that when I thought the same thing.”

Junmyeon raises his eyebrow, “You thought it was me?” he doesn’t sound offended, he sounded more like he needed confirmation more than anything else. So Jongdae nods.

“I’m sorry.”

Junmyeon shakes his head, “I understand the suspicion. Don’t worry.”

Jongdae huffs, “But I still believe that there’s something we’re not seeing. There’s someone who’s keeping something from us, I just know it.” There’s no use getting mad about the situation, they just had to move forward.

“Did you tell anyone else?”  Lay asks.

“Only Kyungsoo, he’s watching the altar right now.”

Junmyeon smiles, “Well, he’ll be in good company.”

Jongdae looks at him confused.

“Minho’s on watch tonight,” Junmyeon says mischievously.

Jongdae manages a smile himself, just the idea of putting Minho and Kyungsoo in a confined space seems like a recipe for a natural calamity, but at least they’re assured that the altar is secured.

“Do you think that Minho can handle the night himself?” Lay asks Junmyeon.

“To be honest, I think he’ll thank us for leaving him on his own,” Junmyeon replies, “He hasn’t warmed up to any of you.”

“let’s get Kyungsoo out of his hands then, it’s better to talk about this with him.”

Jongdae agrees.  He’s relieved that they’ve managed to find Suho. But instinctively, he knows that the real challenge is about to begin. They’re walking in the dark right now, they’re in dire need of some something to light their way.

They make their way to the altar, the soft rustle of the night breeze shifting through their clothes as they hike down the familiar path. Jongdae instinctively attempts to detect any movement from up ahead. That’s how he is. Jongdae attempts to anticipate how things move, attempts to see where things will go. Attempts to be one step ahead.

Sadly, for Jongdae, as he scents the familiar steely scent of blood, his heart suddenly racing with panic as he starts hurtling through the still forest, the mayor and Lay following him, he could have never anticipated the sight before him.

In the center of the entrance of the waterfall, drowning a pool of his own blood, lay Choi Minho, body shivering in the tranquil night. Kyungsoo nowhere to be found.

Maybe if he paid more attention to small things that had transpired. If he managed to read the small folk song Kyungsoo was so entranced with that morning. Maybe, if Kai managed to make it back in time, then Jongdae could have pieced something together. Maybe, if they knew of the events that transpired right before they arrived, they would have noticed something suspicious.

But they didn’t.

And as Lay attempted desperately to save Minho from the claws of death, and as Jongdae searched the empty inner chambers of the altar for the deepstone, and as Junmyeon tried his best to assure his best friend that it was going to be okay, the night continued growing colder.

 “T-they took him, I couldn’t do anything, b-but they took him,” Minho says through choked breath, “they took Kyungsoo and the deepstone.”

Junmyeon’s eyes stare blankly at his best friend, “Who took him?”

“N-naga.”

Junmyeon’s heart sinks, he looks around and sees Jongdae stepping out of the altar looking forlorn and lost.

As Minho’s hand started going numb, his fingers turning cold, his eyes flutter open and finds his best friends eyes. The one he’s loved for his entire childhood, the one’s he’s sworn to protect, tears flow down his face.

“I-I love you,” he whispers.

There are tears in Junmyeon’s face as he hears his friend’s words.

“Shh, Minho stop talking, you’re not going to die,” he says brokenly as he clutches at his friend’s hand tighter, trying desperately trying let warmth pass.

Minho shakes his head as tears continue to flow, his eyes now resting on the healer. He marvels at the serious expression on the man’s face, the way his eyes star in quiet intensity at his dying form, “Protect him,” he utters, “Always protect him.”

Lay shakes his head at the pleas of the dying man.

“Nope, you’re doing that. The fight’s not over, Minho.”

Minho chuckles as he looks at the two of them trying their best to save him, to assure him that everything would be okay.

“Minho keep talking, tell us what happened,” Lay demands as he watches Minho start drifting, “Stay with us.”

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t see what you wanted. I’m sorry I forced you to stay. I’m so sorry that I never let you travel. I know you wanted to, but I was too selfish. I’m sorry.”

Junmyeon shakes his head as he starts crying into Minho’s chest, “It’s okay,” he whimpers, “It’s okay.”

“That’s it, keep talking Minho, we’re almost there.”

Meanwhile, Jongdae looks away from the scene, the image of death still something he rather not see.  Instead he looks to the sky, and his heart starts racing. Because staring down at him with its white brilliance was the full moon.

He hears the distant cries as horns start blaring and torches start lighting up the small village. There’s a battle cry and commotion in the air.

The moon was full and beautiful tonight. It was shining with an aura so pure that Jongdae can’t help but crave for its light. But tonight as Jongdae looks at the orb of light hanging in the balmy evening he can’t help feel that this might be the last time he’ll be able to see it in all its glory.

A/N

Well, I did say was going to go down.

First off, I want to thank anigym6  and somethingiguess for taking time and effort to leave such thoughtful comments. I appreciate it very much, as do I everyone else who comments. It makes taking an entire day to write and edit this worthwhile.

I'm sorry if it seems rushed, but I needed to wrap this up, because it's taking too long. So I had to rush some things.

Anyway, that chapter was exciting and exhausting to write, but I like how it turned out. What are your opinions of how things went down? Who do you think did it? Who is that mysterious boy who gave Kai that weird hand thing? Where is Chanbaek?

I realized I probably left most of you more confused then you were at the start of the chapter, but that’s how life is. But I hope you enjoyed it still.

Sorry if there are errors, this is still being captained by one.

The next part will probably cut into two, hope you guys are excited.

Till next time!