Seulgi's body aches as she remains lying down on the cracked pavement. Bruises litter her arms, cuts and scrapes galore, and she might even have a rib or two broken, although she can't be too sure. Regardless of what's injured and what's not, she's still hardly over the fact that for the first time in her whole life, she's feeling genuinely tired.

As the world burns to the ground around them, she forces herself to look to her right, at the raven-haired girl lying right next to her, just within arm's reach.

Irene is equally battered— maybe even more so. After the crystal had exploded, both girls had been hurled over the railing of The Velvet's headquarters, and Irene had taken the brunt of the fall, cushioning Seulgi's impact with her own body. Now, Seulgi can't help but stare at the other girl, silent tears pouring down Irene's cheeks, with an oddly fond look.

"We've made quite the mess," Seulgi jokes, despite the sound of her own forced chuckle hurting her ribcage. "Don't you think, Irene?"

Irene finally manages to pry her gaze away from the orange flames away at the ground nearby, most likely caused by a vehicle collision, to look at Seulgi. Overhead, the sky has turned red, and Irene can feel the end of the world as they know it. It's still surreal to her that two measly girls had managed to bring about such global destruction, all because the irresponsible Someone Above had decided to give two baby infants the power to total annihilation of planet earth.

The power to manipulate space and time? What heavenly being had allowed for that to happen?

She doesn't know how long they've been lying down oh so pathetically on the pavement. Nevertheless, the tips of Seulgi's fingers brush against hers, and Irene allows their hands to intertwine.

"Some superheroes we are," Seulgi continues, and the slightly taller girl uses her free hand to brush away some of Irene's tears. The older girl hadn't even realized that she'd been crying all this time. "Real superheroes don't cry, Irene. They stay strong for all the civilians."

"I don't think I ever was a real superhero," Irene whispers instead, and her aching heart shrivels up, feeling sorry for itself for being so pathetic. "My father... He raised me up to—"

"—to be a villain? To fulfill his plans of creating a new, so-called ‘perfect’ world?" Seulgi finishes, and Irene looks at her in shock. Seulgi simply shrugs. "Back when we'd first opened the dimensional fissure, before the crystal had exploded, I was shown images of your past. I'm sorry, Irene, I never meant to pry," Seulgi frowns at herself, disappointed that she'd been intruding on Irene's personal secrets without permission.

"N-no," Irene stutters, shaking her head. "I was going to tell you eventually, I just—" she takes a shuddering breath, "I didn't know how to tell you, and now we just brought about the end of the world and—" the tears flow more freely down her face as Irene hiccups. "I never meant for this to happen... I– my father always told me that he wanted for me to make a new, perfect universe for him, ever since Mom died. He never said anything about destroying this one! N-now he’s dead but our world… H-he lied to me— or perhaps he didn't? I don't know anymore, Seulgi!"

Irene sobs, her cries circling up to the sky, and Seulgi's heart clenches for her. "I never wanted this to happen, but it's all my fault! I-I thought he would leave me alone if I did what he asked, but now we're all going to die—"

She's cut off by a cough, and Seulgi once again returns to staring at Irene in worry. With shaky hands, Seulgi pushes herself closer to Irene, wrapping her arms around the crying girl in a loose embrace; their only form of comfort left.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Seulgi whispers, and Irene swallows down another hiccup but nods. "I'm scared. Right now, I'm really scared."

"Of me?" Irene questions through a breath.

Seulgi shakes her head.

"No, not you. Never of you."

 

--

Irene lets her tears run dry, not bothering to bottle anything up anymore. She wails into openness above them, loud and clear. There's no one else to hear them, not anymore. They're all dead. There's no one left but her and Seulgi.

 

She never imagined that she’d be dead at twenty-one. While she figured she’d be caught eventually, even the darkest parts of her imagination had never conjured up something like this.

In the distance, Irene sees the wall of shadows grow closer, inch by inch, up anything and everything into it, never to return. She can hardly see the Red Tower, her former home base with her fellow superheroes, anymore. She still remembers the first day Changmin had recruited her into the ranks of the prestigious superhero organization, The Red. Back during those early days, Irene had been sent to infiltrate the group, but the more time she had spent with the likes of Seulgi, Wendy, Joy, and Yeri, the fonder she grew of them, and the less compliant of her father she had become.

Irene watches the Red Tower get swallowed by the wall of darkness. Gone forever.

It'll all be over soon.

"Would you do it all over again? The exact same way it happened?”

The question startles Irene, who had gone silent at the acknowledgement that they didn't have much time left.

"I—" Irene opens before closing it yet again, not finding the simple answer she had been looking for.

Would she do it again? She doesn't quite know. Irene feels her mind start to wander.

What did it mean for this world to be destroyed? This dimension? Did that mean that heaven would be gone as well? Would all semblance of life be wiped away? Would she never see the people she loved ever again?

Uncertainties. She hates uncertainties.

She looks at the girl lying so peacefully beside her.

But she loves Seulgi.

Irene's head throbs. The aching feeling in her chest spreads, from the tips of her toes to the top of her skull. It hurts – burns, even – but on top of that, she feels nothing but raw frustration overtake her body.

"No, I wouldn't," Irene whispers, and Seulgi cracks a smile. "I wouldn't do it."

"That's my girl," Seulgi croaks out, that last smile etched onto her face, and Irene hopes with all her heart that this will be the final time Seulgi has to ever look at her with those resolved, tired eyes again. Nevertheless, Irene still leans into Seulgi's touch as the taller girl cups her cheek. "I think you know what to do."

"I've never jumped back in time before," Irene says quietly, her voice trembling with fear. "I've sped it up, and I've slowed it down. I've rewound time by a few hours, but I've never jumped back like this before."

"You can't open the portal on your own," Seulgi says gently. "But I can help you."

"Come back with me," Irene begs, desperately clinging to Seulgi's hand even though she already knows fully well the answer she'll be receiving. "Please, just come back with me."

"You know I can't do that," Seulgi chuckles. "Your body is the only one that can survive the time travel."

"I don't want to lose you," Irene whimpers, pushing herself to her knees. She struggles; it's painful, a fire burning in the pit of her stomach, threatening to consume her whole. Her entire body feels like it's covered in scrapes.

Seulgi smiles as though the world isn't ending around her. "So go back and find me. Or I’ll find you, even."

She makes it sound so simple that Irene has to resist the urge to cry.

"You won't remember me," Irene protests weakly, squeezing her lover's hand tight. She feels the power swelling between them, and she shuts her eyes. Too fast. This is all happening too fast.

"I will," Seulgi says, so sure of herself even in this awful state that Irene almost wants to believe her. Irene forces herself to pry her eyes open, only to find Seulgi already gazing at her steadily. "I will never forget you, Irene. I will always remember you, baby."

"Do you promise?"

Power surges through her hands, and there, amongst the endless sea of darkness, a small ring of light emerges.

"I will always keep my promises to you, Irene. I promise."

"I love you, Seulgi."

Irene feels her eyes fill with tears once again, and the light surrounds them entirely, growing brighter and brighter by the second.

Everything is so warm...

She nearly cries out when she feels Seulgi's touch get lost in that ocean of warmth, the only thing keeping her grounded being Seulgi's voice, fully encompassing her, holding her, embracing her. She chokes out one final sob as Seulgi’s everything swirls around her, promises her, dreams of a different future.

"I love you, Irene. I'll see you around."

--

Irene's eyes fly open and she wakes up on a familiar bed— one that she hasn't slept on in several years. On a second thought, she finds it familiar yet not, all at once. Has this been her bed all her life? It almost feels like she's slept in a different one at some point, though she can't recall anywhere else she could have possibly rested her head for long enough to appreciate it.

For some reason, despite her bed's luxury and plush composition, Irene can't help but feel like she's been elsewhere.

Pushing herself up, she bites her lip. Have her hands always been this small? She can't seem to remember.

The distance between the bed to the ground feels different, as she makes way to push herself off of the mattress. Surely that had been easier before? Perhaps? Or maybe Irene had been dreaming something bad again. It wouldn't be the first time, that's for sure. Irene has dreamed of strange things ever since her mother's accident.

She makes her way to the spacious, overly clean bathroom, and wipes the sleep away from her eyes with the back of her closed fist.

Large, dark bruises litter her arm. Also dotting the skin are smaller, pinprick scrapes.

Glancing at the clock resting up on the wall, Irene frowns and points an index finger at it. It's too late in the morning right now, father will be mad. Carefully, she draws a circle in the air, and much to her relief, she watches the clock hands move counterclockwise, changing from 10 AM back to 8 AM.

Outside, the sun lazily moves from west to east, just barely peeking out from over the horizon.

Ah, that's right.

She's eleven years old, living with her father in the mansion. Her name is Bae Irene, and she can manipulate time.

--

"Have you ever even been late in your life?"

"I don't think I have." A pause. "Most of the time, I just try to be on time during the first round, but I don't think most people who know me believe that."

"'The first round?' What does that mean?"

"I... I think I've gotten used to living in a world where do-overs, right in the moment, are available."

There's a soft hum of acknowledgment.

"I see. I think I live in a world like that too. There's always a time and space to atone for your mistakes. Perhaps we’re not too different.”

Irene splashes water on her face and makes her way back to her bedroom to get changed.

--

Irene gets yelled at the breakfast table for her less-than-stellar performance during yesterday's pillaging. Her father says she hadn't given his men enough time to escape, and one had been caught and now the police were on their tail. He backhands her across the face and she doesn't even flinch, simply staring down into her bowl of cereal.

With a grunt, her father leaves her, walking out the main entrance without telling her goodbye. A minute later, Irene hears the revving of a car engine, and the wheels speeding out into the distance.

He's gone for now.

Irene bites her lip, hands toying with the ends of her oversized sweater's long sleeves. The wool scratches at her skin in the most irritating of ways. It seems to dig into her, despite being oversized and seeming to hang off her frame, but it threatens to pry her open, one pin prick at a time. It's the sweater her father insists that she wear every single day. He never says it’s to cover up the marks he makes, but she knows that it is.

--

"Why are you covering up these injuries? Why didn't you tell us?"

"I-I— it's a habit..."

A frown. "A habit from where?"

"I just..." Not yet. "I never felt like being a burden to anyone, so I hid them under my sweater." Not a complete lie.

"Well, I guess we're just going to have to fix that habit then, aren't we? Because you, Irene, are never a burden. And we can start by bringing you down to the infirmary."

The voices ring through her head, but Irene can't recall—

It's useless right now.

She sighs, shaking her head before leaving the empty dining table.

--

It's autumn, and the leaves flutter around her the moment she steps out the door. The cold tugs at her hands, nips at her nose, bites at her ears.

Back inside, the wind hisses. Go back inside.

"No," Irene whispers, although she wonders why. On any other cold day like this, she'd opt to stay inside. Maybe it's because of the way her sweater scratches so irritatingly at her skin. Or maybe it's because of the way her bruises and scrapes and scars seem to burn into her very being.

Or perhaps it's the way that the mansion seems to be singing to her, the way a siren lures in its prey in out on the ocean. Calling to her back into its heat, into its depths. Irene can't put her finger on just why, but she gets the feeling that if she cowers and caves now, she won't see the true light of day ever again.

Her home had become her prison, she knows that now.

Perhaps a different version of Irene would have stepped back inside, waited patiently for her father to return at the end of the day.

But she is not that Irene.

--

"Sometimes it feels good to walk away from things."

"Does it really?" She's uncertain.

"Definitely! Like when you walk away from the villain you put in their place. Or when you walk away from a bad habit."

An understanding nod.

"I see."

A third voice chimes in.

"Or when you walk away from a dirty, cheating ex before he can break your heart."

"Those are good examples, I suppose."

"They are. I've learned that walking away from the things that cause you harm and leaving them in the past can save your life."

"I see, I see..." A moment's pause. "Does that mean you're going to walk away from cracking your knuckles?"

A groan. “Bad habits, Irene! Bad!"

 

Irene pushes back the tears in her eyes as she places one foot in front of the other, walking further and further away from the mansion behind her.

 

She has nothing but the clothes on her body, and the sweater still nags at her neck, but she feels terribly as she turns out of her driveway, following wherever her feet decide to bring her.

 

She wonders if the neighbors can see the chains swinging around her neck from across their green, grassy lawns.

 

--

 

Irene feels the shift in the universe. Why? She can't put her finger on it. But something tells her that the Irene of today is a different person than the Irene of yesterday.

 

Yet for the life of her, she doesn't know why— not that it really matters anymore.

 

--

 

Her feet take her to the police station.

 

She pushes herself through the thick, double doors, feeling nothing. Even through her sneakers, the floor feels terribly cold, foreign. This is new ground; she's trodden everywhere in this city, having not been allowed to attend school, but she's never set foot in this police building.

 

Irene can tell by the way the police officer manning the desk scrutinizes her that he doesn't know how he should be dealing with her. The policeman stares at her, utterly baffled, until the door to a nearby office opens, and he appears.

 

Clothed in a red suit, helmet tucked under his arm, superhero Captain Crimson looks awfully out of place in this pale, bland building of officers in dark blue. Then again, Irene’s never fit in either. Still, the superhero looks authoritative, and if he had told Irene to put her hands up and surrender, she would have done so without question.

 

But he doesn't do that. He doesn't at all. He does catch sight of her though, and Irene stiffens involuntarily as he makes his way over to her with a gentle smile.

 

“Hello little lady,” he says kindly, and Irene swallows her fears and meets his eyes. “What seems to be the trouble?”

 

opens, but the words won't come out. They're trapped in . No, no, no! Not right now! Not when she's so painfully close!

 

She heaves several deep breath, and all the while, the Captain continues gazing at her patiently, waiting for her to say her piece.

 

“You're looking for the Velvet Magician, right?” Irene finally manages to get out, her voice nothing more than a hushed whisper. feels dry as she addresses her father by his villain name, assigned to him by the city’s media and authoritative forces. Irene isn't stupid— she’s known that her father was a wanted criminal since the age of eight. She knows because she’s been his getaway from the crime scenes for the past three years. She's had no choice. “You're looking for Bae Joonyoung?”

 

She sees the visible shock Captain Crimson’s face the moment she speaks the Velvet Magician’s real name aloud. That information is classified; only those under governmental authority should have access to it.

 

Unless—

 

“He’s my father,” Irene whispers, and the Captain reels back in surprise. Around them, numerous policemen have gathered, some recording a video or audio, others taking notes from her quiet words. “My name is Bae Joohyun, but my father calls me Irene because it reminds him too much of my mother. She died when I was two.”

 

There's silence.

 

And then—

 

“I'm sorry sweetie,” Captain Crimson murmurs, genuine heartbreak in his eyes for the little girl in front of him, bearing the truth for all to see. “But your father… he’s a bad man.”

 

Irene nods, looking down. “I know.”

 

“Will you help us?”

 

She nods again.

 

“I will.” Irene pauses. “I think… that's why I'm here.”

 

--

 

“I hated my house.” Her tone is honest. “I don't think it was ever a home. It was a roof over my head, but that was it. And it felt like I had been trapped there for eighteen whole years.”

 

There was a sympathetic hum.

 

“Tell me about it? Only if you want, of course. Only if it'll make you feel better.”

 

She nods.

 

“It was cold, and dark, and big. It was full of everything you could ever need. Perhaps it was a happy house? But it had sad people. I think that such a thing exists.”

 

She is pulled closer.

 

“I think you're right… I'm sorry, Irene. That you had to go through that.”

 

“It’s okay,” she offers. “I found you, didn't I? And you are the best home I have ever had.”

 

A house, not a home.

 

--

 

Irene doesn't return to her house that night. She spends the rest of the day in the police station, answering question after question. She tells them how she’s the daughter her father never wanted until he had found out just what she could do with her powers. She speaks of all the days sent trapped in her room, learning how to control her abilities after they’d manifested at the age of eight; how her father had pulled her by the hair once he had found out she’d been hiding something so crucial from him. She pushes the sweater off her body, allowing a doctor that had been called in to inspect her injuries.

 

She doesn't breathe during the inspection, nor does she meet the eyes of Doctor Kwon, who keeps worriedly glancing up at Irene’s tense face as she studies the bruises and scrapes and marks littering her arms and legs and back and stomach.

 

All the while, throughout the whole ordeal, Captain Crimson remains nearby, never letting Irene out of sight. The look in his eyes is too concerned, too warm to be truly directed at someone like Irene, so she convinces herself that he’s just making sure that she doesn't pull anything villainous while in his presence-- not that she would. Time manipulative or not, Irene is tired. Besides, she knows she would be no match for the crimson-colored man himself in the first place. Her very own father, the cunning and ruthless Velvet Magician, has been pointedly avoiding Captain Crimson ever since he first turned to the dark side.

 

The inspection is over, and Doctor Kwon kindly asks if Irene wants to put the sweater back on.

 

She refuses.

 

“No thanks,” she whispers, barely audible. Still, there's resolution in her words. “I never want to wear it ever again.”

 

Doctor Kwon tries to mask her surprise, although Irene catches the tail-end of it. Then, she ushers Captain Crimson out into the hall to debrief with the other police officers, and Irene is left alone to wait in that small, pure white room.

 

When they return, this time with the head of the police in tow, they thank her.

 

“Thank you for cooperating, Irene,” Doctor Kwon says kindly, and Irene nods numbly. So that's it. It's over, but not just for her father, but for her too. What is she supposed to do now, with nowhere to return to?

 

It's then that her silent question is finally answered.

 

“This whole event was very spontaneous,” Captain Crimson says rather abruptly, and Irene doesn't know what to make of his small smile, “but we've learned more information on the Velvet Magician today than we've discovered in years. Our police forces went to the address you gave, and we were able to uncover all the plans exactly where you said the Velvet Magician hid them.” The Velvet Magician, not your father. “Thank you, Irene. You have all of our gratitude.”

 

He pauses for a moment, as if debating his next course of action before finally deciding to crouch down. Suddenly, Irene finds herself eye-to-eye with the very man her father had despised the most. This time, she meets his gaze head on, not shying away from letting the helplessness and ambiguity of the entire situation flood into her eyes, wordlessly pleading with the man.

 

What happens from here?

 

“Amongst us government officials, we had been… talking about where you would be relocated to,” he tells her, although based on the unusual emphasis on talking, it had been more like debating. “The detectives and policemen want you to stay here for more questioning.” Irene doesn't like the sound of that. “Doctor Kwon wants you in the hospital to treat your wounds.” The words confined to a bed and hooked on wires go unsaid. Irene frowns again, and the Captain laughs. “I'm assuming you don't like either option?”

 

Irene furiously shakes her head left to right before ducking her head sheepishly.

 

“Not particularly,” she whispers, voice meek.

 

“That's great!” He exclaims happily, and Irene flinches at the sudden cheer, gazing up at the man with wide, curious eyes. Sure, she’d seen his cheerful exterior on television before, but never did she think he’d be like this in a police station of all places. “Because I already knew you'd hate both choices, but no one listened to me! Anyway, since you're a minor, as well as a victim, they can't hold you accountable for anything, nor can they force you into anything you don't give your consent to. Thus, since I outrank them both, I'm here to give you a third, and only acceptable option.”

 

--

 

“So how do you feel about the Captain so far?”

 

“Captain Crimson?” She hesitates. “He's a good man. He really is.”

 

“I think so too. I owe him my life, after all.”

 

“Did he save yours?”

 

“He did, right after both of my parents were killed in the Velvet Magician’s massacre five years ago. I was sixteen at the time, and I had gone into just this state of shock. I couldn't believe what had happened. It was Captain Crimson who protected and carried me out to safety, before he took me under his wing and brought me here, to the Red Tower. I wouldn't be here today if not for him.”

 

Irene shakes the voices out of her head as she tugs her luggage out of the police car. In front of her, the Red Tower looms over.

 

She supposes that the tower has always served as a beacon of hope to the ordinary civilians ever since its creation ten years ago. Meanwhile, Irene had been taught to fear the structure, with its spiraling top and pillars of strength. She could count the number of times she’d walked past the building in broad daylight on one hand if she wanted. Most of the time, she’d outright avoided the Red Tower during her treks around the city.

 

How interesting, she muses to herself, that I'm being brought here now.

 

“This will be your new home,” Captain Crimson says from where he stands beside her. He pats her back gently, not commenting on the way Irene’s muscles tense momentarily before finally relaxing once more. “You're a special girl, Irene, with very special powers-- powers that can be used for the good of mankind. We don't usually allow for those under the age of eighteen to start any formal training, let alone hero training, but… I think you’re a bit wise beyond your years, aren't you?”

 

“If only you knew,” Irene murmurs, almost instinctively. Then she frowns. What does she even mean by that? Wise beyond a few future minutes, maybe even hours, perhaps. But years? It couldn't be, right?

 

“I think you're mature enough to get a better grasp of your already masterful abilities,” the Captain continues, and his smile is sincere. “We can help you, Irene, but only if you allow it.”

 

He extends his hand out, and Irene regards it in interest for a brief moment.

 

I wouldn't be here today if not for him, the foreign voice says.

 

You can trust him, her own conscious adds, trusting that odd nipping feeling despite it not even belonging to her own thoughts.

 

Irene grasps his hand with her own, smaller one.

 

“I think I’d like that.”

 

--

 

“My name is Changmin, by the way,” the Captain tells her after showing Irene to her new room. He’s standing by the door frame, lingering in a hesitating way as if he’s wondering whether he’s overdoing his stay. Irene thinks it’s rather amusing to see the typically confident hero acting so cautious around her-- perhaps he’s never had to deal with children like this before. “Max Changmin is what the rest of the family calls me. It’s not something that we can use outside of these walls, given how privacy is such a big deal - we have secondary identities as heroes for a reason, after all - but I just thought that you should know.”

 

Irene allows the smallest of smiles to blossom on her lips. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

 

“Of course,” he nods. “If you ever need anything, my quarters are in the next hall over. Tonight we’ll introduce you to the rest of the gang. Sound good?”

 

Irene nods.

 

“Great!” He pauses just as he’s taken a step out the door, popping his head back in briefly.

 

“Irene?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Welcome to the family.”

 

--

 

“Do you remember the day you were brought to the Red Tower?” She asks, trying to keep her tone light.

 

She receives a curt nod.

 

“Of course. I was brought here on the same day as the massacre.” A chest rises and falls with a deep breath; Irene can feel it beneath where her ear is pressed. “It was July 27th, exactly five years ago. I don’t think I can ever forget something like that.”

 

Irene bolts awake from sleep with wide eyes, taking heaving breaths in some attempt to comfort herself. Placing a palm over her heart, she feels its racing pulse. So close, yet so far.

 

She glances at the clock, realizing that she has an hour until breakfast time, as Changmin had told her earlier. Irene entertains the idea of turning back time for another hour of sleep for a brief minute before deciding against it. Ever since she’d woken up yesterday, she’d been hearing strange voices at the most random of intervals, but the most common occurrences were when she was tired, or during sleep.

 

Last night, she’d been introduced to the rest of the Red Tower’s residents, as promised by the Crimson Captain himself. Changmin had ushered her to the center of the dining hall, and Irene had blushed as she’d been asked to give her name and a demonstration of her power (she’d taken the entire room on a brief time trip, and the adults had stared in wonder as a child turned back time; plates unfilled themselves, drinks were unpoured, and silverware put themselves away, before she’d rewound it all, and everything had zipped back into place. The applause had been thunderous).

 

She’d never felt more welcome around such a large group of people before. Already Irene had taken a liking handful to those who had been seated at the same table as her-- besides Changmin, there had been Bada, Yunho, Sunday, and BoA, the Constrictor, who had taken a personal shine to Irene already.

 

Nevertheless, it still felt like something, or someone, was missing from the equation last night-- although Irene is sure that she has the answer this morning.

 

“I’m at least five years early,” she mumbles to herself, not even quite positive of what that could possibly mean. All she knows is that she’s early. That somehow, she’s managed to beat the very event she’s been trying to meet.

 

--

 

Irene is thirteen years old when she hunches down in the back of the courtroom, doing everything she can to avoid the Velvet Magician’s piercing gaze. Without a doubt, he hates her. No doubt in mind.

 

His first words are biting, scorning. He hates her, he hates her, he hates her.

 

She can’t handle it. Her fingers start twitching.

 

“That’s my girl,” a voice whispers, soothing and comforting, like warm water being poured over her skin, washing away everything bad, all his insults, all his accusations. “I think you know what to do.”

 

Irene is not one to usually speed up time— she used to think it was the coward’s way out, and obviously experiencing things in the moment is good. But she knows she’ll break down if she listens to him any longer, knows he knows how to break her.

 

She can't let that happen. Not yet. Not when she hasn't found what she's looking for.

 

The finger tapping on her knee starts tapping a faster rhythm.

 

The big clock outside the courtroom spins clockwise.

 

A second later, Irene watches the police drag the Velvet Magician – her father, the evil man – out of the courtroom, and she cries hot tears of joy as the government van drives away into the distance.

 

She is free.

 

--

 

Life goes on from there, a few changes every so often.

 

She attends school, for one. Her father had forbidden her from attending during her youth, fearful of what she would learn. Irene had let it slip to BoA one day, as they'd been practicing in the training rooms.

 

“Hand to hand combat is easy!” The older woman had said with a grin. “It comes naturally, like it's a part of you, unlike something like, say, physics.”

 

Irene had cocked her head. “I haven't learned physics.” A frown. “I wasn't able to read any science books. My father kept those in his study room, which were always locked.”

 

“Not even in school?” BoA had prodded.

 

Irene rewarded her with a hasty shake of her head.

 

“I've never attended school,” Irene had admitted sheepishly. “I wasn't allowed.”

 

“Never?” BoA had been stunned.

 

“Never,” Irene affirmed.

 

“But you're so smart?” The older woman sounded painfully confused, and Irene giggled. “I guess I just assumed you had like any other kid. You’re incredibly knowledgeable on so many topics.”

 

“I just read what books I had around the house that I could reach.” Irene had explained. “Most of them were historical, quite a few war-history books. There had been math books, and literature, but never science books. I know my father had a collection for research purposes, but I hadn’t been allowed to touch those.”

 

(She had an inkling that she really should have, though.)

 

Regardless, BoA, in complete mortification that someone like Irene was missing out on something as important as formal schooling, had immediately had Irene enrolled in the public school system, despite Irene’s initially questioning as to why she couldn’t simply engage in private school.

 

“Friends,” is all the older woman had said.

 

So friends is what Irene made.

 

--

 

“Did you like school?” She can’t help but ask in curiosity, having never attended before.

 

She laughs at the shrug.

 

“I suppose I did? I mean, I made a lot of friends there. And learning was fun too, but I think I mostly went for the friends and relationship building. I met some amazing people at school.”

 

“Like Moonstar?”

 

A grin.

 

“Exactly like Moonstar.”

 

“Irene! Irene, there’s someone that I want you to meet!”

 

Irene blinks out of the vision as her best friend shakes her arm insistently. Taking in Yongsun’s flushed cheeks and flustered disposition, the time manipulator has a good clue at what is about to occur next.

 

“This is Byulyi,” Yongsun introduces with a small smile, motioning to the blonde-haired girl hovering over Yongsun’s shoulder. The newcomer politely bows, and Irene quickly returns the gesture. “Moon Byulyi. She’s from the grade below us, and we’re in the same music class. We’ve become close during the first week of the new semester.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Irene says in what she hopes is a friendly manner— not that she means anything harsh. It’s just that it’s been five years since that fateful day, when she made the decision that she deserves better – Irene is sixteen years old now and attending high school – and yet for some reason, the voices in her head had never seemed to cease. While they had started to come more few and far inbetween, it no longer surprised her to get a quick visit from the voices that seem to be from another world entirely.

 

And there’s something unmistakably familiar about this new Byulyi figure: the charming smile, bleached blonde hair, sparkling eyes.

 

She pushes the thought to the back of her mind. Five years is a long time, and she’s learned to simply take the visions and voices as they come.

 

“Most people call me Moonbyul,” Byulyi tells her later that day, as she, Yongsun, and Byulyi are ice cream on their way home. “I think it’s pretty cool, don’t you think?”

 

Moon Byul. Moon Star.

 

It’s too close to be a coincidence.

 

“That sounds like a superhero name,” Irene says without thinking. She freezes for a moment before attempting to play if off like casual talk. Mind whirling, she recalls a conversation from earlier, when she had bonded with Byulyi over both of them having powers; Byulyi could conjure small stars to her will. “Have you ever thought about becoming one?”

 

Much to her surprise, Byulyi lights up like a star atop a Christmas tree.

 

“Of course! It’s my dream to become a superhero!” The blonde girl exclaims, jumping up and down, nearly knocking Yongsun’s ice cream cone out of her hand. Irene’s best friend yelps in shock, glaring playfully and pretending to hit Byulyi, who hastily apologizes. Eventually, after Yongsun is placated, Byulyi returns to Irene’s question, suddenly lowering her voice. “Actually, I was curious about something. Yongsun accidentally let it slip that you live in the Red Tower, and that you'll be joining the Red.”

 

You can trust her.

 

“I do, and I will be,” Irene nods, oddly enough. She’s always been careful about who she tells. Yongsun, so far, has been her first and only confidante. Apparently, Byulyi is going to be the second. “I was taken in because of my powers— they’re pretty cool, if I do say so myself.”

 

--

 

It’s the first time she gets a repeat.

 

“Do you remember the day you were brought to the Red Tower?” She asks, trying to keep her tone light.

 

She receives a curt nod.

 

“Of course. I was brought here on the same day as the massacre.” A chest rises and falls with a deep breath; Irene can feel it beneath where her ear is pressed. “It was July 27th, exactly five years ago. I don’t think I can ever forget something like that.”

 

Irene wakes up in hysterics, her eyes frantically searching for the kitten-decorated calendar that adorns the wall to the right of her bed.

 

It’s July 27th.

 

There had been no year mentioned by the voice that, to this day, still remains a comforting stranger.

 

Irene still knows that today is the day.

 

But the Velvet Magician is gone, Irene thinks to herself. He’s been locked away in high-security prison for the past three years. Just the other day, Irene had visited the Red Tower’s security wing, just to check the CCTV to prove that he’s still very much in there, unable to use his abilities.

 

She could hit the fast forward button right now, but it doesn’t feel right. July 27th holds something special, despite the ominous feeling in her chest that grows and builds and expands by the very second. Today is not something that she can just skip.

 

Irene takes a deep, heaving breath when her phone lights up and nearly jumps out of her skin. It’s just Yongsun and Moonbyul, asking her to hang out after her training.

 

Responding with an affirmative, she tries her best to take her mind off whatever may or may not happen in the upcoming day.

 

--

 

Irene nearly cries in relief when she wakes up on July 28th to no headlines.

 

There had been no massacre. The Velvet Magician remains in his prison cell. Irene remains free.

 

--

 

Two years pass, and Irene eagerly sits around one of the special round tables for the annual Red Tower Evaluation Day— the day when any citizen, of any age eighteen or older, has the chance to get evaluated by the current crew of superheroes and potentially recruited into the Red Tower.

 

The Red Tower’s arena booms with life, its stands filled to the brim with residents from all over. Evaluation had turned into a national holiday a few years after the Red Tower’s founding; it was a day looked forward to be everyone except perhaps the few individuals suffering from the crippling nerves of being evaluated.

 

Irene is eighteen this year, finally the legal age to be an official hero. Despite being a permanent resident of the Red Tower for the past seven years, as well as the public finally knowing of Irene’s existence in the tower after performing an impromptu rescue during a car accident, Changmin himself had decided to wait until her eighteenth year to truly bring Irene into the spotlight. Tonight, after the evaluations, she would be introduced to the public.

 

Curiously, she peers over the barrier, into the corridor where a line of anxious applicants wait with baited breath to be called into the arena for their turn to shine.

 

A familiar face looks up, and Irene tosses Yongsun an encouraging smile.

 

“You can do it,” Irene mouths to her best friend, sending her a thumbs up.

 

Yongsun merely makes an okay motion with her hand—

 

—before promptly lighting the hand on fire, the flames rising to the air to form the letters “I’LL BE OKAY I THINK,” and Irene throws her head back and laughs.

 

Twenty minutes later, and Irene is pulling the newly named ‘Solar’ to the round tables reserved for superheroes, dragging a chair over to her table and plopping her best friend down next to her.

 

“I did it!” Yongsun is breathless, positively sparkling, and Irene can practically guarantee that no one in this arena, bar Yongsun’s own parents, is more proud of her best friend than her. “I’m a superhero now!”

 

Although perhaps she’s beaten out by Byulyi, who sits in the stands nearby, cheering for Yongsun at the top of her lungs. Byulyi is only seventeen, a year too young to apply. Irene already knows that Byulyi will be first in line to try out next year.

 

Irene waves to Byulyi with Yongsun for a brief moment before, strangely, making eye contact with the girl standing directly next to Irene’s close friend.

 

Immediately, Irene is struck by cat-like features and a face whose lips curl like they’ve been expecting her to be looking.

 

Irene doesn’t know her, yet she can’t look away from those hauntingly familiar eyes.

 

--

 

“Moonstar and Solar are pretty cool together, don’t you think?” She closes her eyes nonchalantly, leaning her head on a toned stomach. “Essentially being the moon and sun, after all.”

 

“It’s a nice testament of the whole opposites attract theory.”

 

She hums in approval.

 

“I like to think of it as more of complimentaries fit well, though,” she admits.

 

“Like us?”

 

Irene grins.

 

“Well, yes, of course. We’re time and—”

 

Irene is jolted awake to the Red Tower’s alarm sounding.

 

There’s an emergency occurring downtown, at the school buildings.

 

Time to move.

 

--

 

Irene stands in a swarm of freshmen, all jostling her as she weaves in and out of the crowd in an attempt to take a headcount of all the kids of that year who had made it out. Despite her many attempts to quiet the students, their rowdiness only seems to increase, and with a sigh, Irene results to freezing their pocket of time, using the brief moment to zip around and get an accurate count before unfreezing them with a snap of her fingers.

 

“Okay, now you can run free,” she mutters under her breath, sending off to join the rest of the students when she confirms that her count matches the number given to her by the principal.

 

“Lady Eternia!”

 

Irene turns around at the sound of her superhero alias being called.

 

Yongsun waves her over, Byulyi right next to her. Irene makes her way over to them, her lavender-colored herosuit shimmering under the sun’s light with every step she would take— she does her best not to pay attention to the heads turning as she walks by.

 

“What’s up? Any word on how the fire could have started?” Irene can’t help her curiosity— it’s rather strange that a fire could have started out of nowhere like that. “It wasn’t even that severe of a fire, since it never left the school’s east wing.”

 

Yongsun smirks, a shoulder lifting in a shrug. “It was an accident, that’s for sure. I’m not positive what happened, but considering how this was a rather minor incident, yet even Captain Crimson and the Constrictor are here— well, what do you think?”

 

“Oh?” Irene raises an eyebrow. “So it was a student who couldn’t control their powers?”

 

“Word has it that a middle school student’s powers manifested today during a chemistry experiment,” Byulyi chimes in, looking almost amused at the whole prospect of someone’s school project exploding, and in all honesty, Irene can see why. Fire-related abilities, while not the most rare, are still very desired and very dangerous, much like Yongsun’s ability to conjure the sun’s flames, but most manifest through traumatic experiences.

 

“It’ll make for quite the origin story,” Irene chuckles before her attention is caught by a group of girls racing by. One of them, the youngest-looking of the group, accidentally brushes against Irene’s shoulder, and the superhero catches sight of a tear-stained, guilty face as the girl profusely begins apologizing.

 

That’s how Irene meets Kim Yeri, a girl whose abilities actually consist of shooting lightning bolts from her hands— she knows because she gets zapped with Yeri’s electricity during their initial handshake, sending poor Yeri into another round of rapid-fire apologies.

 

Irene giggles and does her best to calm her down.

 

“It’s okay,” she says comfortingly, and Yeri doesn’t look like she wants to believe her. It’s a look that Irene’s sworn she’s seen before. “We can help you. It’s okay.”

 

--

 

“You really dote on Yeri too much!”

 

She laughs at the exclamation. “She the youngest out of all of us though! It’s hard not to think of her as a baby, or at least little sister.”

 

There’s a of a head.

 

“Did you have any siblings growing up?”

 

“No, it was just me.” Pause. “Perhaps that’s why I act this way with Yeri.”

 

Irene just chuckles to herself as the voices fade back into the depths of her mind yet again. She’s long gotten used to them at this rate.

 

In the meantime, she hands Yeri the popsicle she had retrieved from the training room’s fridge. It’s a hot summer day, and someone had the bright idea of leaving a window open, letting all the hot air inside the building. She and Yeri had been training with a few others when the youngest girl had begun whining about it being too humid.

 

“Thank you, unnie,” Yeri chirps, already sounding slightly brighter. “So how much longer are we gonna be down here for? We’ve already been training for an hour.”

 

Irene opens to reply with just another thirty minutes or so, when the door to the training room swings open, and Changmin strides into the room with another girl in tow.

 

Irene doesn’t know this girl despite that odd familiar feeling that sits in her stomach (a feeling that Irene’s been getting strangely accustomed to), but from the way Yeri’s eyes widen at the sight of the tall brunette beauty, she has a good feeling she’ll know her soon.

 

--

 

“Did you think that it was odd to have someone on your team whose abilities were so similar to those of the villain you’ve been after this whole time?”

 

“It’s definitely strange,” is the reply she receives. “But while I know the fear of being subject to the Velvet Magician’s dreams, the illusions that Joy creates have never scared me. They… have a different energy, if that makes sense?”

 

She nods. “They’re almost… calming in a way. Or at least, that’s how Joy uses them to help us. I wonder what it’s like to be a villain on the receiving end of one of Joy’s illusions.”

 

There’s a chuckle. “I don’t think I ever want to find out. Joy can be scary even without her powers.”

 

“Truth,” she laughs. “Although I think she’s just bluffing most of the time. She’s a softie, she really is.”

 

The voices wash away when a sudden vision of peace overtakes her.

 

She's on the top of the Red Tower, the highest building in the city. All around her, the sunset's brilliant orange rays dance through the city, and it looks like a halo; Irene falls deeper. Orange like a smile on a cloudless day. Orange like a mosaic. Orange like--

 

There's a presence that shifts right next to her. Normally, Irene would’ve jumped but the presence feels friendly, calming. Irene wants it to be there, at her right shoulder, underneath the sky of endless possibilities together.

 

She turns her head, trying to get a look at the other person--

 

--only for the vision to disappear right in the moment.

 

“You made me lose concentration!” Joy’s whine pierces through the air, and Irene opens her eyes to see the taller girl shoving Yeri weakly with one hand. Joy shoots Irene an apologetic look. “Sorry unnie, I got startled when Yeri sneezed.” She glares at the innocent-appearing Yeri. “I knew I shouldn't have let her sit in the training room for this.”

 

“I said I'm sorry,” Yeri protests, though judging by the guilty twinge in her eyes, the younger girl is more apologetic than she wants to let on.

 

“Anyway,” Joy huffs, crossing her arms before turning her attention back to Irene. “Did you find what you were looking for, unnie?” Her tone sounds hopeful, but the look fades as quickly as it came when Irene gently shakes her head.

 

“No,” Irene sighs, but she gives Joy the most comforting look that she can muster. “But it's okay Joy! Perhaps it just isn't meant to be yet.”

 

The taller girl had been a recent addition to the Red Tower after it was discovered that she possessed similar abilities to those of the Velvet Magician. Mirage-based powers are a true rarity (though not as obscure as time-manipulation), and for decades, there had been no non-villainous possessor, as those with the power to create illusions were known to be easily corruptible. When it had been discovered that Joy, a sixteen-year-old girl, had gone a whole decade without being swayed by her tempting powers, Changmin and the Red Tower’s had jumped at the opportunity to ask for Joy’s help.

 

Naturally, Joy had complied without much prompting – there aren't many that would pass up the opportunity to join the Red Tower - though, like Yeri, Joy won’t be announced as an official hero until she turns eighteen.

 

“Did you hear the voices?” Joy prods gently, and Irene nods. She’d finally confided in her closest friends about the voices she heard in her head. She’s convinced that one belongs to herself, though she can't recall ever having these conversations in her life.

 

“I did,” Irene takes a seat on the training mat, cross-legged and stretching out her arms. “Right before your vision came.”

 

“I see…” Joy muses. “So do you think we’re on the right path to finding out who they belong to?”

 

Irene pauses.

 

“...I think we are,” she finally admits. “But I'm not sure I want to try again.”

 

Despite having similar abilities, Joy and the Velvet Magician had a few key differences. While Irene’s father had to imagine the visions he would cast himself, Joy’s illusions would manifest based off of an individual’s own desires and fears— both the ones acknowledged by the victim, and the ones that remain hidden. Often times, Joy herself doesn’t know what the person on the receiving end sees; she only witnesses the emotional reaction.

 

“Are you sure?” Joy bites her lip, her gaze shifting in uncertainty from Irene to Yeri, the latter of whom her head and shrugs in a whatever unnie says kind of way. “Even though we’re so close to a breakthrough about the voices that have been visiting you for seven years?”

 

Irene hesitates at that. Has it really been seven years? How time has flown… but at the same time, it feels like it’s been even longer.

 

Still.

 

“Yes, I’m positive,” she says firmly, hoping that she’s not making the wrong decision. Then again, she could easily turn back time if she regrets her decision in a few hours; she’s not sure what’ll happen in a few days though. “If I didn’t get to see the other person’s face in your vision, it’s probably because it just isn’t meant to be yet.” I hope.

 

“If you say so, unnie,” Joy relents, Yeri nodding in approval, and the trio lapse into a temporary silence. It’s Joy that breaks it again, quietly saying, “You were smiling though, unnie.”

 

“You looked at peace,” Yeri adds. She brushes her fingers down Irene’s harm comfortingly. “I hope you can find that peace here, in the real world, as well. Our Lady Eternia deserves only the best.”

 

Irene smiles, thankful for their presences, ever comforting as per usual.

 

“Thank you, you two.” She reaches over to mess with their hair, earning herself two squealing girls who both flail their hands around to try and swat Irene away. “I hope so too, but until then, this is pretty good as well.”

 

--

 

Irene waits patiently, and before she knows it, three years fly by in the blink of an eye. It's funny, really. She had hardly noticed the seasons changing, let alone the passage of time.

 

“Do you remember the first time you saw me?”

 

She nods.

 

“Cat eyes, cute smile. Looks pretty non-threatening, until I saw what you could do to those heroes. You were playing around with children on a field trip in the stands of the Red Tower’s arena on my Evaluation Day.” She tips her head to the side, thinking more. “I had heard all about you. You’re a crowd favorite, after all, but I hadn’t really paid attention to all the talk until I finally saw you.”

 

“And then you understood,” the playful, cocky tone is joking.

 

“And then I understood.” She laughs, a wide grin gracing her features.

 

“I’m glad you waited so long before trying out for an Evaluation Day.”

 

Confusion overtakes her at that. “Oh? Why’s that?”

 

“You’re too pretty!” There’s a groan from her companion. “I would’ve been so nervous if you’d become a hero before me and you were looking at me from the heroes’ section! But… I’ve never been so glad to have you here now. You’re my everything, Irene.”

 

The voices vanish into nothingness with Irene’s hard gasp, and she groans as her head throbs achingly, fleetingly, before dissipating like it had never been hurting in the first place. Only a single word resonates through her mind, permeating through the space, running dizzying circles around her brain—

 

Everything.

 

“Are you okay, unnie?” Yeri asks in concern, brow furrowed as she looks at Irene’s confused state. “Is the arena too loud? We can step out if you want.”

 

“No, no!” Irene hastily clarifies. “That’s not it at all. It's just,” she lowers her voice, “just the voices again. This one was… different somehow, and my head hurt for a moment there. But I'm fine now, I promise!”

 

Yeri nods, though she still appears unsure. “Okay, unnie, but if you feel sick again, don't hesitate to tell us, yeah?”

 

“Of course.” Irene momentarily wonders how she managed to surround herself with such wonderful people. It's nearly the tenth anniversary since that seemingly meaningless day in the spring, when she’d chosen herself and the world over her father and his evil plans.

 

“Great!” Yeri beams before twisting back around in her seat and turning her attention back out to the vast arena before her. “Evaluation Day is about to begin! I can't wait to see who tries out this year!”

 

“Think we'll be getting any repeats from last year?” Joy chimes in on the commentary. “I peeked into the corridor earlier for fun, and I think I saw a few who look familiar, although perhaps I recall them from elsewhere.”

 

“Maybe you went to school with some of them?” Yongsun suggests from where she sits with Byulyi across the other side of the table. “I remember recognizing an unfortunate amount of people when I was sitting around during Byulyi’s Evaluation Day.”

 

Joy hums in acknowledgement, sharing a look with Yeri. “That’s definitely possible. I also hope there are repeats.”

 

“Like that one man who has the power to manipulate paper cranes!” Yeri says with a grin. “He always puts on a really good show every year. He’s always rejected though, since the paper cranes are pretty flammable, but it’s nice that he tries?”

 

“Not to mention how he has to fold each individual crane himself,” Irene chuckles, shaking her head. “Too bad his abilities don’t cover that part of the gimmick. I wonder what his origin story is…”

 

“Probably something good,” Joy remarks. “Something touching. Or it could be complete garbage too. You never really know how much lies behind a person’s outer shell, y’know? I would know, and I can’t even decipher it most of the time.”

 

The words are spoken neutrally, but the look that Joy gives Irene is all too knowing, and Irene finds herself second-guessing whether Joy really can’t see into the visions she gives. Joy looks at her, and with a frown, Irene almost wants to duck her head; she’s hidden a lot of things, and even more are still buried.

 

Then, to her mild surprise, Joy shakes her head, her smile gentle. The taller girl leans over, her lips going close to Irene’s ear.

 

“Smile, unnie,” Joy says softly, so quietly that Irene’s not even sure that she heard right as she strains to listen properly. “Everything is going to be okay.”

 

“Are you sure you’re not a prophet?” Irene questions waveringly, suddenly nervous for no apparent reason.

 

Joy reclines in her chair and laughs.

 

“No more than you are, Lady Eternia.” The younger girl provides emphasis on Irene’s superhero alias.

 

“But I can fast-forward and rewind time, Dream Sorceress.” Irene merely returns the favor with the illusionist’s supposed future alias (Captain Crimson had let the affectionate superhero name slip during a meeting one day, and everyone’s just been calling Joy that recently).

 

“And I can utilize one’s past, present, and future in my visions,” Joy replies evenly, and Irene frowns at that— Joy has a fair point. “I suppose there’s a bit of a prophet in both of us, no?”

 

Irene chuckles to herself, shaking her head in amusement.

 

“Since when did you get so good at talking?”

 

“Just smile for the audience, Irene. See? The camera’s heading your way next anyway.”

 

--

 

Irene hopes that the camera doesn’t capture her stunned expression the moment Evaluate Number 20 steps into the arena for their turn at the Evaluation.

 

There’s something about the girl that captures Irene’s attention immediately— she recognizes the catlike eyes, the cute smile. The girl in the middle of the arena looks so genuinely unthreatening that if someone had told Irene that this applicant had never hurt even the grass beneath her feet in her lifetime, Irene would believe them. And yet again, it’s that feeling of familiarity, like Irene should know exactly who this person is down to the minutest details.

 

Except that Irene doesn’t. She’s never met this girl before, not in this lifetime at least. And perhaps it’s that fact that frustrates her the most, beyond belief.

 

The frustration is great; too great. She wants to know— needs to know.

 

Irene’s never stopped time without reason before, and certainly without active provocation during a large event like Evaluation Day, but right now she can’t find it in herself to care.

 

It’s with a wave of Irene’s right hand that time comes to a screeching halt.

 

She watches as balloons stop during their midair journey, sees the crowd in the arena’s stands remain silent, utterly frozen in time. The silence is almost deafening, especially in contrast to the crowd’s cheers from literally heartbeats prior, although to Irene, it screams loud, searching for answers amongst the stillness.

 

Slowly, making sure to keep her hold over time, Irene rises from her seat, pushing herself up from the round table she sits out. Weaving her way through the similar tables full of heroes and successful evaluates, she makes her way over to the edge of the patio, intent on seeing and observing the curious girl herself.

 

By the time her left hand touches the metal railing, Irene finds herself reeling in shock.

 

The female evaluate remains in the middle of the arena, unfrozen. She scuffs her toe against the dirt floor of the arena’s pit, gazing at the crowd that has been left rigid mid-cheer with a pleased smile on her face, looking absolutely unsurprised at this sudden change of events.

 

Why isn’t she frozen like the rest of them? Irene’s mouth drops slightly in shock.

 

“Who are you?” The time manipulator blurts out without thinking, and her voice resonates throughout the arena as if it were completely empty. “I’ve seen you before, but who are you?”

 

The strange girl doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she whirls around on her feet until she stares directly at Irene, and the superhero can feel herself be stripped away, all guard down as the girl’s eyes crinkle into perfect crescent moons.

 

Irene’s heart throbs as the only other moving being in the arena opens .

 

“I’ve found you!” The girl declares, beaming, and Irene stops breathing. “I’ve finally found you!”

 

“You’ve found me,” Irene whispers.

 

“I’m sorry it took me so long, Irene.” It’s apologetic, but Irene loves the way her name rolls off the unknown girl’s tongue.

 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Irene says. She doesn’t know what the words leaving her lips mean anymore, doesn't even question how this non-superhero knows her real name.

 

The girl laughs, and it sounds like the last piece of the puzzle finally slotting itself into the proper place, like the beautiful orange and pink sunsets on a cloudless day, like the entire Universe shifting from one edge to the other, rippling and spinning and churning and whirling until—

 

It just all makes sense.

 

“I’ve finally found you, Bae Joohyun!”

 

--

 

Needless to say, Irene loses her grip on time amidst all the shock, and suddenly the world around her is spinning again, the crowd roaring and cheering for the girl standing in the middle of the arena. Meanwhile, Irene still remains by the railing, gaping (she hears Joy question, “Irene-unnie? When did she get up there…?” but pays no mind).

 

There’s a name dancing on the tip of her tongue, just waiting to be set free.

 

Somewhere in the background, Captain Crimson announces the start of the appeal section, shouting a “Begin!” that somehow manages to overpower the noise of the delighted audience— looks like Applicant Number 20 is a crowd favorite already, and she hasn’t even done anything.

 

But then she does.

 

All it takes is the snap of her fingers, and suddenly Irene’s in the center of the arena, mere inches away from the intriguing girl— except she’s no longer nameless.

 

Irene doesn’t meet her eyes, training them on instead.

 

“The lovely Lady Eternia was too far away.” There’s a playful smirk on the girl’s lips, and the corner of Irene’s mouth quirks ever so slightly at the remark. “I’ve missed having you close… thought that I should close the distance.”

 

“You’ve always been a fan of the theatrics,” Irene sighs, just as jesting, all before finally tilting her head up and meeting the gaze of the person she’s waited an entire lifetime to meet.

 

“You really kept me waiting, Kang Seulgi.”

 

--

 

It all rushes back in a powerful wave, threatening to knock Irene down to her knees— the eighteen years stuck in the Velvet Magician’s – her father’s – mansion, her mission to infiltrate the Red, the time she’d spent forming a family with her teammates, falling in love with Kang Seulgi. She remembers it all, can recall the emotions as clear as day in the moments leading to her jumping back in time, the way she had cried, begged Seulgi to come back with her, and Seulgi’s promise.

 

She’s snapped out of her thoughts as she finds herself being pulled upward, floating higher and higher, up towards the clouds. Irene lets out a small yelp of shock before Seulgi’s laugh grabs her attention, and she finds herself hand-in-hand with the grinning space manipulator.

 

“It really has been too long!” Seulgi laughs like the world has just been given to her on a silver platter. “And to think you had just finally gotten used to my powers as well!”

 

“Well, I was older by then,” Irene shoots back, stifling a giggle. “I’ve gone… ten whole years without your floortilting, gravity-defying abilities, Seul. It might take a bit of getting used to before I’m not surprised every time you suddenly manipulate the direction that objects fall again.”

 

“I suppose you have a point,” Seulgi sighs, but the smile on her lips says otherwise. It’s like the audience’s oohing is a mere background noise until then – Irene hasn’t been paying attention – until Seulgi gestures to the crowd with a shrug. “At least I’m putting on a good show?”

 

“Your spatial powers have always been fun to experience,” Irene replies good naturally, and Seulgi hums, content with the answer.

 

Then there’s another snap of fingers, and Irene finds herself shooting sideways at a startling speed.

 

“Kang Seulgi, I swear if you try to bring us to the 4th dimension again—”

 

“Hey, I’ve improved since then, I promise! I won’t make another black hole, I swear it!”

 

--

 

Seulgi’s accepted into the Red’s ranks, no questions asked. No one wonders how she and Irene know each other, all they care about is now Cosmium is a new member of the family, and they’re content with the results.

 

Also an addition is a girl by the name of Wendy, and Irene is more than glad she gets to skip out on the I think she feels familiar phase this time around, thanks to her newly recovered memories from the past timeline. Instead, she greets Wendy into the organization with open arms, loudly declares that Wendy should be on a team with her, Seulgi, and the others, and before she knows it, Aquaria also has new sleeping quarters near Irene’s room.

 

It’s not until night time, during the celebration party, that Irene finally manages to tug Seulgi away to escape for some well-deserved time alone.

 

(As they leave, they can hear Yeri talk excitedly to Wendy, who is just as enthusiastic as the younger about the whole prospect of potentially creating thunderstorms with their combined abilities. Joy chuckles and watches the two of them fondly.)

 

As soon as they exit the doors, it is Seulgi who shows the way, intertwining their hands and leading Irene down the Red Tower’s corridors, through rooms and shortcuts and up flights of stairs, as if she had never left its residency in the first place— as she has never belonged anywhere else. Irene lets her marvel at all the slight changes – “these windows used to be tinted black! I’m glad they’re not now, since more light can come in,” and “I remember this training room! The exercise bikes used to be in the left corner though, not the right.”

 

Irene beams the moment Seulgi pushes open the door to the rooftop; this had been their spot, after all. For some reason, despite the beautiful view, the rooftop had always remained untouched, both timelines included.

 

Perhaps it’s the universe’s way of telling us that the two of us together can make something right, Irene muses to herself.

 

“I’ve missed this,” Seulgi confesses, walking forward to sit towards the roof’s edge. “I’ve missed you, Irene. I missed you every day during these past ten years.” She chuckles quietly. “To think that we had been older back then… and that I had to work my way back up to eighteen from an eight-year-old…”

 

“You really did remember me,” Irene whispers in awe, and at Seulgi’s strikingly shy nod, she leans forward and buries her face in the crook of Seulgi’s neck, hot tears welling in her eyes. “You never forgot me…?”

 

“Of course not,” Seulgi says, and Irene can tell from the strain in her voice that she’s hold back tears of her own. “I promised that I’d never forget you, right? I always keep my promises.”

 

“I know you do,” Irene says in a hushed tone. “You always do, Seulgi. I’m just… I’m just sorry that I did forget you.”

 

“Don’t feel bad Hyun,” Seulgi murmurs, presses kisses into Irene’s hair. “You couldn’t have remembered— the timeline would have gotten messed up if you had. It was your crucial decision to deny your father the right to control you that set this world on a different course than the other one. But because you were the turning point, you weren’t allowed to keep your memories.”

 

“But you kept yours all along?”

 

Seulgi nods.

 

“Why didn’t you approach me until now then…?”

 

“If I did, I could potentially threaten to make a rift,” the younger girl explains, closing her eyes briefly, indulging in the heat pulsing off of Irene’s skin. “I was blessed enough to keep my memories, but I had to act like a Seulgi that was progressing naturally through her lifetime. If I suddenly started making rash decisions to try and find you, the universe might have ripped you apart and created a time rift without us even trying. I had to meet you at the ideal time.”

 

Her words ring heavy through the air around them, hanging near their heads, settling deep into their minds.

 

“Seulgi?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“How do you know this?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“How did you know that the natural balance would be disrupted if you didn’t meet with me at just the right timing?”

 

Seulgi bites her lip. “I think there’s a bit of leeway… an hour or so, perhaps not so specific. But, yeah… I guess you could say that I learned from the first forty-two times through this timeline.”

 

Irene jolts at that, whipping her head around so fast that it almost hurts. She doesn’t care.

 

“Forty-two times?” Her eyes are wide, unbelieving. Her hands start trembling, shaking, and Seulgi frowns, reaching out to take Irene’s hands in her own. “You went through this forty-two times?”

 

Seulgi shrugs nonchalantly, as if she hasn’t just experienced entire decades, maybe even a century, of repeating the same years, over and over again, each one ending with their meeting, each time ending in their termination. As if she hasn’t seen the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. As if she hasn’t given up, hasn’t stopped loving Irene despite all that has happened, despite all of the loss, despite having to watch Irene be ripped from her grip forty-two— no, forty-three times now.

 

“Up until this timeline,” Seulgi whispers so that the other girl doesn’t hear her voice waver or crack, pulling Irene back flush against her, “Up until now, we’d meet, and your body wouldn’t be able to handle it. You’d open up a time rift, terminating your existence in the process, and I’d be pulled back into that time rift and sent back in time. I’d always wake up on the same day, y’know? That same day, back when I was eight-years-old.”

 

“And I was eleven, and I’d wake up back in that hideous mansion,” Irene finishes, voice breaking.

 

Seulgi sighs, looking out into the distance. She eyes a group of birds flying together in a V shape, one side longer than the other.

 

“I was too hasty, most of the time,” Seulgi murmurs. “I’d try to meet with you too quickly, and a few times, I was too late. Or I was too careless, and I’d run into you on the street or something, speak to you accidentally, and boom, suddenly the cycle is starting all over again. I think… I think I’m a trigger or something. You’d regain your memories the moment we’d talk for the first time, but it was never the right time. You… you never remembered anything from these timelines, and to be honest, it’s probably for the best that you don’t.”

 

“I see…” Irene squeezes Seulgi’s hand tight. “But we’re okay now, right? We’re together, and the world isn’t exploding— I’m not exploding. I’m not tearing open a time rift any time soon, at least I don’t think. So… we’re safe, right?”

 

Seulgi’s resulting smile is so relieved that Irene feels like crying, and she does, diamond tears streaking down her cheeks at Seulgi’s look of pure contentment. They huddle together like that, atop the Red Tower, on top of their one and only home, watching the setting sun, watching their city celebrate its new heroes in the streets beneath them.

 

The wind blows, but they remain strong.

 

“We’re safe, Irene. We’re finally safe. We’re finally free, truly.”

 

--

 

“I heard your voice, did you know? From our time in that first terminal timeline.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“You were with me the whole time, Seulgi. I think that in this universe, I fell in love with your voice first.”

 

“And now?”

 

“I think it’s safe to say that I’m love with the rest of you as well.”

 

--

 

Irene wakes up the next morning wrapped up in Seulgi’s arms— very alive, very much not ripped apart by the universe, very much in love.

 

She’s shocked to find that her head is clearer than ever before. The voices are no more, but after living with them for the past decade, Irene almost misses them.

 

Oh well.

 

There’s things to be done. Although they hadn’t asked questions, the other residents of the Red Tower have yet to be offered an explanation to Irene’s affiliation with Seulgi. Irene feels like she owes them that explanation at the very least— especially to Wendy, Joy, and Yeri, who she had formed a familial bond with in that previous timeline.

 

Her gaze turns to the clock resting on the right wall, and it’s 9AM. Usually, she’d have to be awake by now, but because it’s the day after Evaluation Day, she’s allowed to sleep into 10AM.

 

Still…

 

Irene frowns. 10AM is only an hour away. She purses her lips, internally debating things over before sighing and settling on being a good person.

 

Allowing herself to focus on her teammates in the surrounding rooms, as well as Seulgi by her side, and she carefully draws a counterclockwise circle in the air, watching the clock’s hand wind backward from 9AM to 7AM.

 

Outside, the sun lazily moves from west to east, going back to hiding beneath the horizon.

 

Surely no one would be opposed to a soothing time trip? After all, who can deny an additional three hours of sleep?

 

(Surely enough, Joy, Yeri, and Wendy thank Irene profusely at breakfast, the younger two of the three having stayed up the previous night playing video games in celebration, Wendy supervising over them. Irene can’t say she’s surprised.)

 

--

 

Three years pass, Joy and Yeri become official members of the Red as the Dream Sorceress and Electra respectively, and they are all happy.

 

(Or, as happy as one can get while fighting crime as a superhero. Irene doesn’t mind much.)

 

--

 

“The Velvet Magician has escaped!”

 

“What?! How?”

 

“, how the did he escape?!”

 

Irene, Seulgi, Wendy, Joy, and Yeri watch in mild amusement, leaning back on rather comfortable chairs as they watch the many governmental officials freaking out in the board meeting room. The only one who isn’t panicking is, of course, Captain Crimson, who now looks as calm as a lake on a day with no wind (just ten times more red thanks to his costume).

 

“Word has it that he’s somehow managed to communicate with his outside evil associates, as well as break many other inmates out of the prison!”

 

“How the hell did he do that?!”

 

“We’re not sure, but he’s trying to revive the villainous group, the Velvet! Who even knows what kind of havoc he and his group will try to pull!”

 

Irene glances to her side, sharing a knowing look with her girlfriend. Seulgi shrugs, her lip quirking at the drive she finds when she meets Irene’s eyes.

 

“Will you be okay, Lady Eternia? With your father out there?”

 

It’s the head of the police force speaking this time, addressing Irene directly. She still remembers him; he had been in the police station on that fateful day when she’d walked in as a mere eleven-year-old, looking for a way to change her own fate.

 

Irene blinks, having to take a few seconds to fully digest the question entirely. It sounds weird to her ears. Meanwhile, the Captain raises a comically raises an eyebrow at Irene’s apparent confusion before it finally is registered.

 

“With all due respect,” Irene finally starts, and her teammates have to stifle their snickers at the sheer amount of sarcasm laced in her dry tone, “I haven’t considered that man my father in over a decade. I do not wish to be associated with him in a familial sense.”

 

Yeri finally loses it, snorting before spinning herself around on the spinny chair. Joy similarly cracks, her wide gum-exposing smile being far too apparent for it to be appropriate for this situation. At least Wendy has the decency to hide her immense enjoyment behind a hand, shaking in silent laughter.

 

Seulgi doesn’t even try. She merely grins, leaning over to press a kiss to the crown of Irene’s head, stifling a few chuckles of her own in Irene’s hair.

 

The policeman scoffs and turns around to continue addressing his panicked subordinates.

 

“I’m proud of you,” Seulgi mutters lowly into Irene’s ear. “So very, very proud of you.”

 

“Thanks, Seul,” Irene tells her in complete honesty. She smiles shyly. “Besides, we’re gonna beat the Velvet’s into the next dimension, the Velvet Magician’s included, right?”

 

“Absolutely!” Seulgi enthuses energetically, and Irene can tell her girlfriend is more than ready to get payback from everything that had been left unfinished in the past. “Actually… that gives me a great idea.”

 

--

 

The entire Velvet organization gets their asses royally beaten, as expected.

 

Yeri personally goes around and sticks her tongue out at every single one of the Velvet Magician’s villainous henchmen, not even flinching as they glare and glower at her from behind the glass of their cell walls.

 

Joy cracks a grin and nudges Wendy.

 

“I raised her well!”

 

Wendy snorts.

 

“I’m sure you did, Joyie. And who’s the one who made her all her meals and fixed her snacks?”

 

“Okay, fine, we raised her.”

 

“I raised Yeri and carried her on my back,” Seulgi protests from where she sits on a lone stool a few feet away, and she pointedly makes a show of kicking the stool down the hallway.

 

“This discussion again?!”

 

Irene has her head poked out of the interrogation room, ears perked and a disapproving look on her face.

 

“I thought we had already concluded that I raised Yeri! I was the first one who met her, after all, after she set her chemistry experiment on fire!”

 

“We don’t talk about that!” Yeri snaps, and the other girls raise their hands in surrender.

 

--

 

“Irene, please!”

 

“That’s Lady Eternia to you,” Irene corrects with a roll of her eyes. She’s not even interested in hearing the Velvet Magician’s pleas; she’d let go of that past already. “You lost the right to call me Irene years ago.”

 

The man who had once been her father now lies beaten and bruised on the cracked pavement. Irene’s pretty sure that Seulgi had broken a few of his ribs during the final confrontation, having caught him off guard by destroying the crystal meant to amplify their powers. Now he looks so pathetic, it’s almost pitiful.

 

Almost.

 

“Irene, please, I’m begging you!” The Velvet Magician growls, the pitiful tone taking on something savage at the realization that his daughter has no intention of helping. “We could rule the new world together!”

 

“I don’t want a new world,” Irene shoots back harshly just as Seulgi takes a protective step close to her. A soothing hand is rested on her waist, and Irene takes a deep breath, reminding herself to not let her anger get the best of her.

 

“I don’t need a new world of my own,” she continues, more calm this time. “Not when I have this one. Not when I have a new family, a love of my own. Everything I need and more is right here, and I wouldn’t trade it for any amount of worlds.”

 

“You’re pathetic,” He spits at her, and she watches him emotionlessly, face blank. “You’ve been brainwashed just like the rest of them, thinking that there’s hope in a world where you can be alive one minute and dead in the next.”

 

“That is how we live,” Irene replies, her hand coming to intertwine with Seulgi’s. “We would not be living had it not been for the cycle of life and death. There is a balance that keeps us in order, and it’s not to be disturbed. It is what gives us our free will, it is what influences our actions, it is what allows us to feel. You have never understood this!”

 

“You think you’re so smart, you—!”

 

The vile man never gets to finish his sentence.

 

Seulgi steps next to him, eyes furious as she cups a rough hand over his mouth.

 

“That’s enough from you,” she grunts as he struggles against her hold, trying to break free. “You wanted a world of your own, yes? Well, you’re going to get one. Congratulations.”

 

Irene doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even think, as she nods her head and gives Seulgi the okay.

 

--

 

“I can’t believe you literally kicked his into the next dimension!” The youngest exclaims, tipping her head back and letting out a loud laugh that Joy echoes, equally as loud and boisterous. “You actually opened up a dimensional rift and sent him into a new dimension!”

 

They all have a good laugh about the entire event at the dinner table that night. They’re sitting around a round table in the ballroom, used only for special occasions, an elaborate meal haven been served to them by the Red Tower’s staff for successfully completing the Velvet case in record-breaking time. (Joy had been especially thrilled when the wine had been brought out, her cackles filling the room as she reached eagerly for the cork-closed glass bottle).

 

Around them, their fellow superheroes mingle, toasting to the success and the vanquishing of the villain who had been terrorizing the world for the past forty years, causing grief for generations of superheroes.

 

Seulgi smirks, raising her glass of red wine. “We made it back just in time for dinner too.”

 

“Irene would’ve turned back time for you to make it anyway,” Wendy says, grinning.

 

“No way! We’d be on time during the first time around! We’re professional superheroes,” Irene adds with a small laugh, taking a swig of her own wine. “Real ones this time, I swear.”

 

“Any evil corporations you’re spying for, Irene?” Joy asks teasingly, only to duck a moment later as Irene balls up a napkin and chucks it the younger girl’s way. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You’re my mom, you couldn’t have possibly been spying for anyone without me knowing.”

 

“I don’t have a daughter like you,” Irene deadpans, but she and Joy burst out into giggles mere heartbeats after.

 

--

 

Irene and Seulgi retreat to one of the ballroom’s balconies around an hour later, after all the food has been served and there’s only merry times all around.

 

Of course, the balcony is no Red Tower rooftop, but they don’t want to leave the festive atmosphere just yet, so until then, the balcony will have to do.

 

“Did you ever expect that things would result to this?” Seulgi asks as they lean on the railing, eyes skimming over the city’s beautiful lights. “Did you ever think we’d be this happy?”

 

“I can’t say that I did,” Irene admits. She lets out a breath of contentment, inching closer to Seulgi, much like the first time they had ever met, resting her head on Seulgi’s shoulder. It’s during times like this that Irene is thankful that Seulgi is taller than her, with shoulders broader than hers. Seulgi is strong, steady like a rock. Throughout it all, Seulgi has been her constant; the unchanging boulder in the fast-moving stream known as time, the only thing keeping Irene from sinking. “But I’m so very glad that we got our happy ending.”

 

“Here’s to our happy ending,” Seulgi murmurs, eyes drifting away from the scenery and falling on Irene’s lips. Slowly, she finds herself leaning in closer. “Yeah, I’d definitely consider this a fitting conclusion…”

 

Irene laughs quietly, deciding to spare Seulgi the struggle as she tilts her head up, capturing Seulgi in a kiss that they both melt into, eyes slipping shut.

 

“And now, we have all the time and space in the world,” Irene whispers against Seulgi’s lips, feeling the slightly taller girl smile, and it’s like an ocean of warmth, and Seulgi is there, fully encompassing her, holding her, embracing her. “Here’s to our new beginnings.”

 

"I love you, Irene. I'll see you around." A familiar voice rings in her ears.

 

“I love you, Seulgi. Thank you for finding me.”

 

“I will always love you, Irene. No matter how much time, no matter how much space in between us.”

 

End.