Yuju was disturbingly light on her shoulder, which did not help at all to reassure SinB as she sprinted up the steps, lithe as a cat. It was as if the already skinny shaman had lost a good third of her bodyweight somehow, because the last time she had carried Yuju as a joke, she was most definitely heavier than this.

Movement helped. Having something to do definitely kept her mind off things. Like Eunha, who looked more like a threat than her goofy best friend. SinB hadn’t missed the burn mark on Yerin’s hand either, and Eunha hadn’t seemed entirely there when she approached her earlier.

SinB was patient though. She had some experience dealing with an unbalanced Eunha, in the nights where Eunha used to randomly set things around her on fire. Talking slowly to her about familiar things usually did the trick, just to ground her in reality again.

It was just really distracting having to watch the scales change colour on her best friend’s skin, almost like a direct indicator of the fire mage’s mood. It actually receded when Eunha smiled at an old memory though, which gave SinB some hope. Maybe they could fix whatever this was when they were safely out of here.

No one was taking her best friend away from her if she could help it. On her shoulder, Yuju stirred, groaning intelligibly, and SinB paused in her step, risking a quick look to check on the shaman.

The emergency lights in the narrow stairway didn’t offer much in way of illumination, but the washed out lights definitely didn’t lend a flattering look to the unconscious magic user. SinB hadn’t really been able to see very well in the dark earlier, what with the only sources of light being the dimly glowing embers of ex-humans. Again, not really something she wanted to think about. When had Eunha grown so powerful?

Yuju was an unhealthy shade of pale, almost translucent even. SinB swore she could see some of the girl’s veins at this point. The heavy stench of blood in the chamber still haunted her. Something big had gone down while they were all occupied elsewhere, and while Eunha was sort of back, who knows what Yuju did to make it happen? SinB hoped that it wasn’t something too extreme. They already had one unstable mage, SinB was fairly sure they wouldn’t be able to deal with two.

The sound of Yerin’s panted breath was just barely audible below her. SinB winced in sympathy, hefting the much lighter Yuju back into a more comfortable position. No offense to Sowon, but their leader was heavy . It was all the hardware the woman was packing, to be fair.

SinB resumed her trek upwards. Umji was still uncontactable, but their electronic comms were all down at this point. Magic could be such a pain in the sometimes. At least the hacker should be relatively safe in her hidey hole. Better than the rest of them, for sure.

At least she came out relatively unscathed. SinB shook her head. She was also worried about Sowon. There was no way her reaction to whatever happened earlier was natural. The gunslinger had been right next to their fallen leader when she literally saw the bright blonde of Sowon’s hair fade into a dull ash. It was like someone had applied a colour filter to it. Not to mention that their usually invincible leader had just fallen over for no apparent reason, right at the same moment that crazy shockwave blasted out from the ritual chamber where Yuju and Eunha had been.

Too many things had gone wrong and SinB didn’t even know what she was supposed to be doing. Good thing Yerin had her head together and took charge. SinB hadn’t known just how reliant she had become on having Sowon around to make the decisions. That wasn’t really a good thing. It felt odd to be...tamed?

For the longest time, it had always just been her and Eunha against the world. Eunha was family , the sister she never had. Ever since her parents died, SinB had had to be independent. It had helped to have Eunha making some of the decisions, but for important matters it had always been a joint decision between the two orphans.

It was scary how easy it had been to fall into the motions of having a family again. Three years with Sowon and Umji had filled the hole in their lives more than SinB had ever imagined. Yerin and Yuju coming in a year ago had rounded off their group dynamics, and SinB liked having older sisters around -- Eunha used to about having a mommy complex, but the truth was, SinB did enjoy being a brat to the older girls in their team. It fulfilled a need she didn’t even know she had.

“Mom…”

SinB almost jumped out of her skin, but then realized she hadn’t said that out loud herself. No, it came from Yuju, who seemed caught in the throes of a disturbed dream. There were a few more incomprehensible mutters from the still unconscious shaman, but none distinct enough to make out. SinB huffed as she finally reached the top, scanning the area warily in case of ambush. Yerin came up a few steps behind her, breathing heavily from exertion.

“All clear?”

SinB was about to nod when the ground shook beneath them, making her grab at the railing on the side to keep from falling. A blast of heated air rose from below, and both SinB and Yerin repressed a shiver; Eunha had sprung her trap, no doubt.

“I’ll go ahead and look for Umji first.” Yerin’s brow was knitted together in tension, though it softened briefly when she glanced at Yuju. SinB bit her lip and nodded.

“I’ll stay and wait for Eunha.”

Yerin nodded tersely, rebalancing Sowon on her back and adjusting her grip before jogging off in a determined trot. SinB faded into the shadows by the side of the disused exit, patiently waiting for her best friend to catch up. She slid Yuju down to rest for a bit, squatting next to the knocked out shaman.

Yuju was definitely having some sort of nightmare. SinB frowned and reached forward, considering if it was safe to try waking the girl, but then Yuju suddenly grabbed her hand in a crushing grip, teeth clenched together in a seething fury. Her eyes were still closed, but that didn’t impede her from speaking, clearly.

“ I won’t let you take anyone else .”

That didn’t sound good. SinB winced. Yuju had a strong grip, and the gunslinger worried for her fingers as she tried to pry Yuju’s death grip off her hand. A shadow fell over them, and SinB flinched, almost reaching for her gun until she realized it was just Eunha.

The scales were gone, and Eunha looked pale and drained, but her eyes were still sharp and glittering dangerously. The tiny mage knelt by Yuju, embracing the dreaming shaman from behind and nuzzling at her ear. SinB looked away. It looked a little too intimate. Since when had Eunha gotten this bold anyway? Wait, did something happen between them already and Eunha didn’t tell me?

But it seemed to work. Yuju seemed to relax after a moment, the sudden fury that had contorted her features draining away into a confused distress as she slumped back into Eunha’s arms. The fire mage seemed satisfied, resting her chin on Yuju’s shoulder as she glanced at SinB.

“You can let go now.”

That was a command, not a suggestion. SinB peeled Yuju’s hand off hers; it gave way as if the shaman hadn’t had a death grip on her just moments ago. The red marks from the pressure exerted were a dead giveaway though. The gunslinger looked back at the pair of magic users, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

This Eunha didn’t feel quite like her childhood friend. There was something harder in those eyes, but there was still enough familiarity in the way Eunha carried herself that reassured SinB that it wasn’t some kind of imposter. For one, her best friend normally wouldn’t be so confident about getting close to her crush like this. SinB couldn’t help but feel a teeny bit left out by Eunha’s singular focus on Yuju. Is it too late to discourage her now?

SinB got up, brushing dust off her knees. Complicated relationship issues or not, they had to go. The gunslinger eyed her best friend, who was still attached to Yuju like a baby koala.

“Need a hand?”

It wasn’t like Eunha didn’t try, but she was already exhausted mentally and physically from the amount of magic she had expended since waking up. It was all she could do to even stay upright and walk on her own. Mutely, she allowed SinB to pick Yuju up again, but continued holding on to the shaman’s hand anyway. SinB quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing.

They had to catch up with the rest, and hightail it out of here.

Umji had never been able to properly explain to anyone how it was that she was able to do what she did.

It hadn’t always been this way, either. She didn’t remember much before the lab, but they were always running tests, attaching electrodes all over her body, muttering among themselves as they made her do different things while monitoring her vitals.

She hadn’t been the only test subject, but she was definitely the only one that survived the explosion. At least, that she knew of, because the next time she had opened her eyes, she had been in Sowon’s arms, the wreckage of the laboratory in flames behind them.

The world had seemed awfully different ever since then. She had closed her eyes a relatively average child, and opened them once more into a changed world alight with data rushing in a mad tangle of networked traffic. For the first time, she saw the tactile form of the Matrix, observing with newly opened senses how information was constantly being transmitted across different channels all around her.

She was small, almost insignificant, in the vast web of information. It was like being blind all her life and suddenly being able to see, except it was too much to deal with in the early days. Umji had been a trembling wreck for weeks, even months, after Sowon more or less adopted her. In a way, it had helped a lot that Sowon was sort of an antique, because the mercenary had a lot less tech at her hideout with which to overwhelm the poor baby technomancer.

Never mind that all the hardware Sowon had installed on her made her look extremely interesting to Umji’s new senses. In fact, once Umji had slowly started to gain some control over her newly gained abilities, the first thing she did was learn to identify the unique signature that was Sowon, and of course, cut off everything that wasn’t her that had been monitoring the woman from afar once she learned to read the data patterns. She had never mentioned it to Sowon actually. Why hadn’t she? Perhaps it just hadn’t seemed relevant at the time.

It took time, but soon Umji found comfort in the always flowing Data. There was always something going on, new information to dissect and absorb, and she was never truly alone. However, data flows were cold and impersonal, and Umji craved human contact still. If not for Sowon, she might very well have gone mad.

Now though? She might not quite be a spider in the center of its web, but she came close. Umji was always handling a bunch of info streams all at the same time, directly manipulating them without ever needing a physical jack into the system. It was her own peculiar form of magic, and cemented her role in the team. She was everywhere without having to move an inch, and was always watching.

At least she was , until the massive shockwave murdered all her toys and blinded her eyes in that area. The backlash was immense , echoing even into the depths of the Resonance that underpinned the data streams. It was a plane only accessible to technomancers like her, and yes there wereothers, few and far between they were. Already she had some nearby fellows posting concerned questions about the sudden disturbance, even brief as it had been. Seconds were an age in the frenetic pace of the info streams, and every microsecond an entire life summed up in a data package. This was their reality, and outsiders could never truly understand.

And this has never happened before. Though data itself stemmed from meatspace, magic on the other hand occupied an entirely different plane entirely, not unlike how the Resonance was a separate realm in itself. There had never been any direct link prior to this incident, and Umji couldn’t wait to figure out just what had happened.

But for the fact that she was no longer in contact, which was distressing in itself and the comms were all utterly fried as far as she could determine. That didn’t bode well at all. She couldn’t reach any of her team, and it was giving her massive amounts of anxiety in the process.

The Resonance was still reorganizing itself, and Umji delved deep, partly out of habit and partly out of sheer curiosity. It felt like wading through molasses for a while there, and Umji felt her ears pop as her senses were stretched in interesting ways.

There were the things she had already been doing, tied to threads she prodded at whenever she had time. One was frayed, an important one at that, and she zeroed in on it immediately for fixing. The bot she had set to continually attempt cracking that secure datavault was a wreck , and a lot of it had to do with that backlash from earlier. Interestingly, it wasn’t the only thing that was a wreck. The vault it had been keyed to was suspiciously off balance as well.

Lucky~ Umji was not one to waste an opportunity when it presented itself. She had been trying for days to break into that vault, and now that there was a temporary weakness, she’d be a fool not to exploit it. With the surgical precision of a professional, Umji eased at the opening until it gave way…

And was promptly hit by a second layer of defenses. Typical. Her avatar flinched, and she grit her teeth at the blackware that was the active defense within the vault. Assassinware, some liked to call it, because it sought to erode the mental faculties of the hackers jacked into the Matrix through biofeedback. It was very lethal and very illegal. Mild cases could trigger short term coma, serious cases could lead to death.

Fortunately, it was not her first rodeo with blackware, and Umji countered with her own programs specifically designed to fight such things. The Matrix was no less dangerous than meatspace these days, and a hacker could never be too prepared.

She had very little time left. The active trace had started the moment the blackware had been activated, and while she could reroute it almost indefinitely, letting it run too long would risk another node shutdown, which would seal off the opening she had just made. And she couldn’t have that, could she?

In record time, Umji managed to slice straight through the defenses and grab what she could of the data files, cutting it really close before she disengaged, just right before the shutdown hit. It wasn’t everything , but she had gotten most of the core files. It would have to do.

Sowon would be proud of her. Except Umji didn’t know if she was okay. If any of the team was okay. The anxiety came back with a vengeance, and the young hacker struggled with another wave of lightheadedness and nausea. She gripped at the nearest physical surface, trying to find some kind of comfort, her lips trembling as she blinked rapidly to try and disconnect enough to see the real world.

The screech of rolling metal tore her back into focus. She shook her head, trying to calm her shaking fingers as she rubbed them against her overlarge sweater. The crosshatching of the wool lent some order to her tangled thoughts, and Umji blinked owlishly at the sudden intruder, half reaching for the tiny handgun Sowon had left with her in case of emergencies.

She needn’t have bothered. The sight of a familiar face brought on a rush of relief, her racing thoughts finally getting back on track and not off in the muddy fields where it had no business being. It took her a few tries to find her voice again, but it was not her own that first broke the silence.

“Umji, you’re bleeding .”

Right. Umji touched her fingers to her face, taking a shaky few seconds to try and orient herself and figure out where everything was. Yerin seemed very close and very far away at the same time. The hacker moved the same hand experimentally away from her face. It came away red.

Yerin was saying something, but Umji wasn’t really hearing it. Her ears were buzzing with an odd static, and her vision oscillated between Resonance and Reality, neither here nor there. She tried to smile. I’m fine, she wanted to say.

Except she kind of sort of really wasn’t , and she was about to announce a statement to that fact when her vision decided it would be a great time to just go black. Well, at least that was evidence enough, right? Saved her the trouble of explaining by just passing out.

It was almost elegant in its simplicity. Too bad Umji wasn’t awake enough to appreciate it.

At least she got to miss the terrible driving that came after. Judging from the state of their van post-drive, Umji would later consider herself incredibly fortunate to not have been awake to witness it. Fixing it was going to be fun at least, and she was most definitely making SinB help out.

After all, whoever did most of the damage had to be responsible for fixing it. But that could come later, after she had recovered.

For now, she just had to rest. As long as everyone was together, nothing frightened her. Sleep never came easily for her, and she would cherish it while it lasted.

Her dreams were filled with blood.

It stained everything, and she knelt futilely by a wine dark sea, scrubbing at marks that would never fade. Again and again, head bent and shoulders swaying, like a penitent flaying away at their own skin.

Blood and death. It sank into her pores, soaked through her garments, oozed into every orifice like a creeping plague. She was choking, drowning, gagging on the metal that invaded her every sense. The scars on her hands were an ugly testament, and every fiber of her being rejected the memory of what caused them.

I saved no one that day, except myself.

What use were these hands, if she couldn’t help anyone? The freshest scar stood stark above all the others, a gaping wound across her palm that kept spilling forth more of the blood she dreaded. Why wouldn’t it stop? It should have stopped.

Like the way I should be dead.

Her eyes were wild as she gazed into the crimson glass of the frozen sea before her. Familiar features dyed red in the distorted reflection, a mocking parody of everything she was.

A fist smashed into the unyielding surface, once, twice, three times. Her reflection never changed, a sardonic caricature dark and twisted as she raged like a madwoman against the abyss that stared into her.

Spider-like cracks splintered across the mirrored red, her dark twin fragmenting into a million microcosms that haunted her with bloody visions. Was that a smile she saw? Was she smiling?

Who am I? What do I want?

It shattered then, and suddenly in she fell, as if the void was her in. Crimson shards scattered all around her in a scarlet shower, every prism a dark mirror, a thousand thousand eyes opened and watching.

She was falling, endlessly, and wondered if death was close. She should be so lucky. She should be dead. But she wasn’t.

Like a match thrown onto kindling, a spark was all that was needed for her rise from the grave like a phoenix reborn, energy overflowing without end.

She felt strong, untouchable even. As if she could bleed forever and never die. Was this what it felt like to be immortal?

Well, she hated it.

Darkness greeted Yuju as her eyes snapped open, and for a moment she thought herself still dreaming, trapped and unable to move. Warmth surrounded her on all sides, and the shaman felt oddly disoriented as she tried to shift into a more comfortable position.

The attempt to move failed, mostly because she didn’t really have the space to do so. Her breathing caught as the rest of her brain came online long enough to process her surroundings.

Bed below her, and two familiar people on either side of her. Her magical senses reached out and did not sense a threat, which made her relax a wee bit. Someone shifted to her right, and Yuju tilted her head over to meet a pair of smiling eyes. A hand cupped her cheek, and Yuju’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, enjoying the closeness.

“You’re awake, are you feeling alright?”

Yerin spoke in a whisper, concern colouring her tone. Yuju opened her eyes, smiling as she placed a hand over the one Yerin had on her face.

“I’m fine,” Yuju frowned when Yerin winced, jerking away when their hands made contact. She adjusted her grip down to Yerin’s wrist, eyes aglow to pierce through the darkness. The burn mark stood out like a sore thumb in sight both mundane and magical.

“You’re hurt.”

Yerin said nothing, and Yuju’s frown deepened.

“Eunha did this.” It was not a question. The shaman could see the traces of magic left in the wound, like a fingerprint. Yerin pursed her lips, trying to make light of it.

“It was an accident…” Yuju cut her off, bringing the wounded area to her lips as a familiar glow of healing magic stemmed from their joined hands, repairing the damage almost instantly. The shaman then pressed her lips against the now smooth skin on the back of Yerin’s hand.

“I would never hurt you, even by accident.”

Yerin closed her eyes. Her puppy always did and said things like this. Was it any wonder how deep she had fallen? Even now, her heart was racing wildly at Yuju’s intense gaze, as if she were the only thing that mattered. If only that were true.

“Should you even be using magic now? After all that?”

Changing the subject was cowardly, but Yerin wasn’t feeling particularly brave at the moment. Not with Eunha a little more than an arm’s length away on Yuju’s other side. While she was fairly sure Yuju would defend her, she didn’t want to discuss anything too personal while her rival was within earshot. Some things needed to be discussed in private.

“I feel perfectly fine, Yerin. Look.”

A spectral glow rose from the tip of Yuju’s fingers, coalescing into a light green puppy spirit that gamboled across their joined hands, rolling around with its tongue hanging out. Yerin giggled softly when the spirit Yuju had conjured up padded over to her face. It was then promptly pulled back by its master, who tapped it smartly on the head before banishing it.

“Jealous?” Yerin teased. Yuju’s eyes were inscrutable.

“Maybe.” Yerin’s heart skipped a beat. Their joined hands were now interlocked at the fingers. Yuju was never this forward with her. Perhaps she could even hope…?

She didn’t have to wait long. Yuju moved suddenly, turning her body completely to face Yerin. Yerin exhaled as Yuju pulled her close, until she was practically snuggled within the younger’s embrace. Her nose was pressing against Yuju’s throat, and Yerin nuzzled her affectionately, feeling the shaman swallow in response.

“Don’t ever leave me.” The shaman’s voice was small, barely audible even in the silence of the room. This close, Yerin could feel her puppy trembling a little, and she hugged the younger girl reassuringly, patting her back to comfort her.

“Never. Not even if you chase me away.” Yerin promised. Yuju made a little choked sound at that, burying her face into Yerin’s hair.

The nightmare earlier had reawakened the sense of loss that had plagued her for years, and Yuju was suddenly afraid of losing the one constant she had since Yerin had crashed into her life. She hadn’t had to think about how much she needed the company until she had been forced to look it in the eye.

It was Yerin who brought her back to civilization, who taught her indirectly that she had the power to save others. Yuju had been alone and afraid for a very long time, until Yerin had boldly walked into her life and decided to stay.

She wasn’t as brave or independent as she seemed to be. Yerin had always had to make the first move to coax her out of her shell, and deep down, Yuju was grateful. Yerin may like to say that it was Yuju who saved her life, but if the older woman hadn’t saved Yuju first, it would never have happened. To Yuju, Yerin was special.

Which was why she was ing terrified that one day, she might end up hurting her.

Not on my watch, Yuju promised herself. A deep unease had followed her out of her dreams, and the shaman couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was very wrong somewhere.

No one hurts her, not even me.

Yuju closed her eyes, and breathed. She would face that problem when it came. Until then, she would protect the things most important to her with her life.

It was the only thing she could do.

It hurt to see Yuju with someone else.

Eunha’s eyes were closed, but she didn’t need eyes to listen in on the conversation happening next to her. The fire mage fought back the lump in when Yuju turned away from her to face Yerin. How could this happen?

But they are not the same person.

A small voice of reason reminded her. You are Eunha, not Jung Eunbi. All of them died that day, and Yuna was the first to go. Eunha rememberedthat, she had lived it through the eyes of Jung Eunbi. Yuju was not Choi Yuna, for all that they looked the same. She had to remind herself of that constantly.

It didn’t help that they were so similar . The same smile, the same awkward sweetness. The same brightly eager eyes. It was difficult to separate the two, especially with the memories from Jung Eunbi. The two had been lovers in the past, and Eunha felt betrayed to see Yuju with anyone else, but she also knew that she had no legitimate claim over Yuju right now.

Yuju had every right to choose anyone she wanted in this lifetime. But Eunha didn’t want to let go. She’s mine. No, she couldn’t think like that. It was wrong.

But Eunha didn’t want to give up at all. Even before the memories, she had already been drawn to Yuju like a moth to the flame. After the memories, her feelings had only grown. It was fate that they were all together again, and she wasn’t about to let their second chance slip by just like that.

I won’t lose you again, not for anything.