Solar gaped at the gaunt old man on the other side of the prison bars. His story had been long and detailed, his explanations to her questions short but concise. Lars told her of how he had sacrificed himself as a decoy, allowing her and Moonbyul to escape all the way back in Mercury. How he was captured by the droids pursuing them, stripped of all his belongings and locked up in a dark, unfamiliar place. He had no idea where he was -- only that he was still on Mercury, and his men had no way of helping him.

The next time he saw daylight was when he was presented before terrifying woman with wavy black hair, piercing eyes, and a mole on her cheek.

“Hwasa,” Solar breathed.

According to Lars, she was accompanied by a stranger with flaming-red hair. From the shape of their figure and their air as they stood behind Hwasa, he could only guess that they were female. “She wore a mask,” he described, “one that covered her whole face, but her aura felt familiar, like someone I should have known from a very long time ago.”

Hwasa had demanded Moonbyul’s location, but he could not tell her as he had no idea himself. Her eyes had burned with fury, and she had lashed out at him in a fit of anger before the redhead could calm her down. They had spoken in whispers, surely discussing his fate. Not long after that, Lars was whisked away on a prison shuttle and finally, found himself here, locked up in a dilapidated cell alongside other fallen deities.

“You must have met Helios on your way in. He makes talk of breaking out, but he is just a feeble man like myself, deprived of all power he once had,” Lars said. “I recognised the others by their voices as well, since they don’t ever let us out of here. Near Helios is Ares -- when he opens his mouth, it’s only to make jabs at Helios. There’s also Vulcan, Melpomene, Thalia, Jacheongbi. Even the great Mother Gaia herself.”

“Gaia?” Solar uttered a loud gasp. She hurriedly slapped a hand over and glanced around in case she attracted the attention of Tartaros. “Impossible, Mother Gaia cannot fall.”

“Yet she has,” Lars said, his entire body drooping. He gestured to the cell opposite his before letting his hand fall defeated. “She lies behind you, silent as the earth we stand on.”

Solar turned around slowly. The prison cell was dark, quiet, but it was more than that. Solar could feel despair lurking within, the understanding that there was no hope left. She leaned forward, peering in, trying to discern the figure huddled inside. Squeezed in the furthermost corner of the cell was a woman struggling to hold herself up. Her weary body slumped against the wall of the prison, her short greying hair a messy nest. The woman’s limbs were patchy and scaly, her blue-green eyes dulled, as if she had some unknown disease that slowly ate her away. Once healthy and tan, her skin was now waxen, her complexion pallid.

“Mother Gaia,” Solar approached the bars of her cell. “What happened?” 

The woman inside the cell blinked once, then twice. She shifted where she sat, moving out from her dim corner. Solar’s heart broke seeing how Gaia strained to crawl across the prison floor. This was a far cry from the great goddess everyone once worshipped, from human to nymph to god. How she wanted to wrap the fallen goddess in her arms, to keep her safe and warm -- anything to erase the shattered look in those beautiful eyes.

Gaia may not have been her mother by birth, but Solar knew she was the mother of all mothers. Not a single human nor god would have existed without her.

She felt a thumb rub gently at her cheek, wiping tears that she didn’t even realise had fallen away. “My child,” Gaia whispered, her hand reaching out from the other side of the prison bars, “why are you crying?”

Solar couldn’t answer her question. She just couldn’t bring herself to, afraid that if she opened to speak all that would come out were ugly sobs and a multitude of ‘sorry’s. Gaia seemed to understand, though, and attempted to pull her into a half-hug through the bars. Solar allowed herself to be cradled by the goddess, closing her eyes as she forced herself to calm her erratic breathing.

Then it happened, just like when Diana took over Moonbyul’s body eons ago. Solar felt herself falling into Gaia’s memories, as short and as abrupt as the last time.

A barren landscape surrounds her, devoid of life. She gets to her feet, swaying as her body is buffeted by strong winds. She knows where she is, recognises the streaking marks of a river that once was. She runs her fingers on the cracked earth, watching as it dissolves to dust under her touch. 

When was the last time water flowed through?

Where did all the trees go, the brightly coloured birds that used to swirl around in the sky, the animals large and small that stalked across the forest floor? Dozens of species, undiscovered by humans, always more to discover.

All gone.

A sharp object struck her in the back. Piercing pain spread through her body just before a wave of sleepiness overtook her. Through her haze she could see a pair of black boots approach her. She reached out a hand desperately, hoping the owner of the boots would help her somehow.

“I’m truly sorry,” she heard a voice whisper, “but you must fall for us to rise.”

A final flash of fear overcame her before her world turned to black.

Opening her eyes, Solar realised that Gaia had pulled back from her. Gaia’s eyes -- eyes the colour of the sunlit ocean -- stared at her in wonderment. “You are not one of us,” Gaia murmured, cupping Solar’s cheek in her hand. “You are different, so different. Your life… you have gone through so much, and still you have not fallen.”

Solar furrowed her brows. “With all respect, mother, what do you mean? We all have fallen.”

Gaia shook her head, making a sound that could have been interpreted as a laugh centuries ago. “Within you lies power, inspired by the faith that you carry with you. I have seen it -- your memories, just like how you have seen mine. Your love for the human girl gives you the strength you need.”

Solar was baffled. How did Gaia see her memories, see Moonbyul? But before she could ask any questions, a thunderous clanking echoed down the corridor to where she was stationed. 

“Tartaros must be making his rounds again.” Gaia released her hold on Solar. There was a spark of life in her eyes now, shining bright. Before she returned to her original position in the back of the cell, her fingers brushed against Solar’s. “My child, keep hope with you, for you have not fallen.”

How many days has it been since she came down here? Trapped in a place where the sun never shone, where time seemed to speed by while remaining stagnant, Solar could feel her sanity slipping away. The only source of solace for her was Gaia’s calming presence and Lars’s multitude of stories of miner Moonbyul back on Mercury. When she was not sleeping or eating, she spent her hours observing Tartaros’s habits. She noted when he slept -- which was not often, and not long enough for her to escape, when he would walk around the cells, or argue some of the prisoners who were out to hurl constant verbal abuse.

Solar didn’t know what to feel about Tartaros. On the one hand, he was very kind to her, making sure that she felt safe and that the gods and other prisoners did not abuse her in any way. On the other, she knew that he was a god himself, and it made no sense to her why he was helping the Juris keep their kind confined. As much as she didn’t want to, she couldn’t occasionally feel as if he was a traitor. She’d also then be reminded that she was doing the same thing, albeit under a guise. Perhaps Tartaros was the same, biding time, waiting for an opportunity to save his own loved one. Perhaps.

So absorbed in her thoughts was she that Solar failed to hear footsteps approaching. A shadow looming over her caused her to look up into the dark eyes of Tartaros. In the dim lighting of the corridor she could make out a frown on his face, and she quickly scrambled to her feet. “Sir.”

“Is everything well here?”

“Yes, sir.”

Tartaros nodded, clearly pleased. “Very well. I came to let you know that my Head Guard is coming back to join us. She is a good worker, so listen to her well, understand?”

Solar nodded, and Tartaros grunted in approval. “Well, keep at it, Remi.” He patted her shoulder with a heavy hand before leaving. He accidentally put a bit too much force into it, and Solar could feel her shoulder cuff twinge in pain where his hand had landed. Gingerly rotating her shoulder, she glanced off at Lars sitting with a pensive look on his face.

Catching her eye, he beckoned her down to where he was sitting. “Did he say the Head Guard is coming?”

“He did,” Solar agreed. “Are you familiar with them?”

Lars’s face grew grim. “Solar,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “there is something you must know regarding this guard of his.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve seen this guard once, briefly, before she left. I don’t know whether my eyes were playing tricks on me then. You must understand, I had just arrived here and was still in a state of shock, but the guard… She reminded me an awful lot of Moonbyul. Her side profile was strikingly similar to Moonbyul’s. It didn’t make sense then, still doesn’t.” Lars mulled over his memory. “How could two people look exactly the same?

Before arriving at the Juris, before meeting Moonbyul, Solar would have thought the same. Certainly, two people, separate individuals as they were, could resemble each other, but only to a certain extent. And yet when she first laid eyes on Moonbyul, and later when they found Diana in one of the Juris laboratories, she swore they were essentially the same being. Not a single mole or crease was different, except for the scar on Moonbyul’s forehead. So she knew then, odd as it was, it wasn’t wholly impossible.

She refrained from passing on this information to Lars, however. She wasn’t sure whether he was familiar with Diana -- sometimes gods and other deities didn’t always interact with each other unless they had to -- and if he knew the Juris was experimenting on Diana, his weakened heart could easily give out. Solar absolutely did not want that to happen to someone she regarded as Moonbyul’s father figure.

Thump... thump.

The loud stomping of heavy boots on the floor resonated down the corridor, drawing Solar’s attention to the silhouette approaching her. Cloaked in darkness, the figure’s shoes first stepped out into dim light, followed by a streamlined uniform quite dissimilar to the uniform that Solar donned, but of a similar enough colour that one could still pinpoint the owner as a guard of some sort.

Thump… thump.

Smoothing down her uniform, Solar prepared to introduce herself to the approaching guard.

Thump… thump.

Long silver hair brushed against the crisp collar of the uniform, swaying slightly as the newcomer turned her head to observe the state of the prison. Shadows settled themselves into angles defined by the guard’s sharp features. Calm eyes the colour of dark mahogany flitted between cells before landing on Solar. Above the guard’s left eye was an oddly-shaped scar.

Lars may have warned her beforehand, but the similarities were still too shocking, especially the scar  branded into the guard’s skin. Her eyes wide and staring, Solar involuntarily clutched at her chest. “Moonbyul…?”

The guard cocked her head at Solar, not understanding. She shook her head once, tapping the tag on her uniform. Solar’s eyes followed her finger. “Byul-won,” the tag read.

Solar glanced at the tag, then back at Byul-won’s face. Blank eyes stared back at her. “Ah… My apologies.” She mustered a smile and extended a friendly hand. “Nice to meet you, Byul-won. You can call me Remi.”

Byul-won took her hand and shook it firmly. She mouthed the syllables in the same way Solar did: Re-mi. She repeated it a few times before nodding to herself, satisfied with the name. Byul-won then moved her hands, making rapid gestures that Solar could not comprehend.

Solar bowed her head in apology. “I’m sorry, I don’t-”

Byul-won sighed and sank in disappointment. Fishing around in her pockets, she pulled out a notepad and a pen. She scribbled something down and showed it to Solar. “How long have you been here, Remi?” the note said.

Ah, Solar realised. She cannot speak.

“I am new here, but don’t know how long I have been here, exactly,” Solar admitted. “The sun neither sets nor rises down here. It’s almost as if time doesn’t flow in this prison.”

Byul-won nodded in contemplation. “That’s true. Tartaros once said he has no need for telling time here, but it can be quite suffocating,” she wrote. She glanced behind her at where the giant was leaning against the wall, arms crossed on his chest, and shook her head like a disapproving mother. It made Solar smile; Byul-won was a friendly enough person despite Solar’s initial apprehension.

She found herself standing next to Byul-won for the next few hours -- or at least she thought it was hours -- in silence, the only occasional sound coming from the silent guard as she wrote questions down to ask Solar. It was a strange atmosphere, to be sure, as Solar stole glances at the woman beside her. She really did feel as if she was standing next to Moonbyul, if not for the silver hair and different aura the guard exuded. Where Moonbyul was energetic, Byul-won was serene. But still, Byul-won’s presence did bring her a sense of comfort, even though it wasn’t the same as Moonbyul.

She wondered whether the scar came from, whether all Moonbyul look-alikes would have a scar in the same place, burned into their foreheads.  She wondered whether it hurt Byul-won as much as it did Moonbyul.

A notebook was shoved into her line of sight. “You are staring,” Byul-won wrote in her neat print.

Flushing red with embarrassment, Solar hurriedly looked away.

“Is there something wrong?” Byul-won asked.

“Not at all! I was just wondering about…” Solar hesitated, then tapped a finger on her own forehead. Byul-won’s hand automatically flew up to her own forehead. Her fingers traced her scarred skin, and opened in understanding.

Byul-won took her time writing out a reply to Solar’s unasked question. When she handed the notepad back to Solar to read, Solar noted with a light laugh the simple but adorable drawing of a baby on the paper with an arrow labelling it as ‘baby Byul-1’. 

“Why did you write a one?”

Byul-won tapped the scar on her forehead, and then pointed at the number. Solar pursed her lips, not understanding. Byul-won huffed and, shaking her head, urged Solar to continue reading the rest of the note.

“I had this ever since I was a baby. The Juris said I was the first success, so they gave me this mark. I heard it is an early inscription for the number ‘one’,” the note said.

Solar furrowed her brows; this explanation only created more questions in her mind. What did she mean by ‘first success’? And why would the Juris carve a brand into a newborn’s skin? Honestly, Solar thought, sometimes humans just make no sense at all.

“When you said ‘first’,” Solar ventured, “does that mean there are more? Of… you?”

Byul-won nodded. “There was one more,” she wrote, then drew a symbol shaped like a curly w-letter with a distinct tail. Solar’s eyes widened. She had to refrain herself from gasping as she traced out at the very same symbol that was seared into Moonbyul’s forehead. More and more questions burned on the tip of her tongue, but forced herself to hold back lest she appeared too suspicious.

Just as well that Byul-won was conveniently called away by Tartaros, leaving Solar with the notepad. Her hands were shaking; her legs gave way beneath her. This was without a doubt a clue to finding out who Moonbyul really was and why she was wanted by the Juris. All Solar needed to do was to ask the right people the right questions. 

At the sound of Byul-won’s boots against the floor, Solar neatly tore out the page with Byul-won’s note and drawing. She tucked it into her pocket to keep it safe before shutting the book and putting on her best poker face. Solar gave Byul-won a calm smile as she returned the notepad to its owner.

“Oh, who’s this?” A voice crooned from behind Byul-won. Solar stiffened, goosebumps rising on her arms. Unlike Hwasa’s sharp, commanding voice, this voice was teasingly seductive, a whispered provocation that wrapped its invisible tendrils around Solar, exploring and sneaking into nooks and crannies that were dark and deep and wet--

Solar involuntarily squirmed, fighting the extremely unnecessary image in her head. Shivering, she could almost feel the imaginary tendrils recoil and vanish. Nothing had happened in the few seconds she heard the voice, not physically at least, and yet she still felt… violated, somehow.

A slender figure slunk out, fingers brushing against Byul-won’s shoulder as they approached her. Solar glimpsed long hair that blazed like the sun before supernova; a streamlined suit of black and white; eyes of gold and red that bored into Solar from behind a fox-shaped mask.

This must be the woman that Lars had met on Mercury.

The stranger extended a hand. “Nice to meet you,” she purred, voice muffled by her mask. “You are…?”

“Remi.” Solar took the stranger’s hand. Her skin tingled from the contact, and she hurriedly drew her hand back after shaking it.

“Hello, Remi.” Just from the way the stranger  repeated her alias, Solar could immediately that she knew that it was not her real name. The stranger’s eyes curved, smiling knowingly behind the mask. “I am Chrystal.”

A/N:
hi everyone! thanks for sticking with this story~
finals start next week and i'm not ready T-T but i thought i should get a chapter out before running away again to cram study.
ah, also, i've made a playlist for this story on youtube [link here] that you could maybe listen to while reading~ or while doing anything really lol
anyway, see y'all next time uwu