“01 to the south wing, disable the circuit breaker on my call. 03, place charges on coordinates 135-106, set timer to 90 seconds, then come to my location. 02 and 04, hold the other team in the west corridor, delay until 30 seconds left on the timer, then pull back. 05, set the lines out for evacuation and reinforce 02 and 04 if you have time.”

Unhurried instructions to the team as the map on the overhead display in her helmet marked their locations to the commander, followed by crisp acknowledgements as the squad scrambled to follow orders. Micromanaging was necessary to some degree, but it was best to keep things simple at times. Then again, it wasn’t like the mission was particularly difficult to begin with.

Events unfolded as she expected. She knew her own strengths, and the quick assessment she had made of her team’s profiles prior to this exercise had proven to be just enough for her to place them where they would be most useful. It would have been better if she had gotten to actually know what they were like before the games began, but she had been thrown in here on short notice, and had to make do with what she got. 

There were worse places to be. At least she wasn’t in a cell anymore. Or tied down and injected with strange chemicals that caused her to hallucinate things. After the first hour she couldn’t even be sure what was real and what wasn’t anymore. The subsonic hum was always present, whispering the things she needed to do, the instructions she needed to obey, the kind of person she needed to be. It was almost comforting amidst the nightmares that followed. Obedience was the best and only way. The rest of the world was frightening. Abandoning yourself into the orders was just so much easier, and made so much more sense. 

Not thinking for yourself was a luxury she could come to appreciate, but she retained enough of her faculties to fulfill her orders with the best of her training and experience. No hesitation, no remorse, only the mission and what she needed to do to achieve the objective. There was an almost magical clarity in that realization, and she could play this game all day just so they didn’t put her back in the dark again.

MISSION CLEAR

The words flooded her field of vision, and then the simulation faded out, leaving behind only the blank grey of the visor. Jung Yerin sat motionless, not even moving to remove the headset without clear orders. In the observation room overlooking the test chamber, a calmly smug Heechul raised a taunting eyebrow at the mute Seo Hee, who was gripping the edge of the railing with white knuckles as she stared at the docile girl down in the chamber.

“That’s five out of five victories, with different scenarios and objectives as requested. Ms. Han, does this overwrite your objections regarding my operative’s ability to lead?”

He did not mention anything regarding Yerin’s compliance levels. That had already gone through three days ago, after an intense five-day session breaking the girl down and rebuilding her back from ground up. Sometimes the old ways were the best, tried and tested over time. It also helped that they had made Yerin who she was the first time round, so it really wasn’t too difficult to unravel her by hitting the right weaknesses. They had her sobbing after only a few hours in, and the rest had been easy in comparison. Heechul oversaw the whole process, making sure that they didn’t go too far, since he still needed Yerin to function at her best, instead of being incapacitated by blind loyalty and obedience. 

The spark of rebellion was still there, chained and broken to harness as Yerin was, barely noticeable in the half-smirk that was the only thing visible in the lower half of her face not covered by the visor. Heechul smiled, proud of his girl. They had escorted her to the test chamber and put her into the simulation with barely any warning or explanation, pitting her against the best and brightest of the Epsilon recruits to see who had the edge.

If it had been a pure test of combat, one on one, Heechul might not have been so certain that Yerin would best all of them in her current weakened physical condition. Even at her physical best, while she had always been a tricky fighter, there had always been others who were better in that respect. What set Yerin apart was always how she used her advantages to outfox the opponent, never going for a direct confrontation unless there was no other choice.

The best of the Delta kids had been trained by the Spartan commander directly, a favor pulled in by the director himself to make the most out of their most gifted recruits. Each and every one of them were special, mostly because if they survived that far, it was inevitable that they would be. They were each unique in a way that marked their later specialties, but the training they received was still quite standardized at its core: to create black ops soldiers capable of running counterintelligence operations either singly or in squads.

Thus it was a return to Yerin’s roots of sorts to put her in charge of a squad of randomly selected Epsilon recruits for the simulation, a squad of five versus another squad of five, led by one of the more capable Epsilon commanders. The mission objectives in each scenario was clear, the squads were similarly equipped and skilled, the only difference being the commanding officer.

Yerin did not disappoint him, adapting rapidly to the situation and learning how to work with the people she had been given on the fly. She never explained her decisions, but then again, her squad never questioned her either, so it all worked out as she intended. There were a few close calls in the first couple of scenarios when she was still getting used to how literal the Epsilon kids were, but Yerin always reacted quickly enough to rescue the situation before it got out of hand.

In contrast, the opposing team performed as a seamless unit operating with tactics straight out of the textbook, which while effective enough against static targets, it was never going to be good enough against a tricky opponent like Jung Yerin. She saw through them like the tactically naive children they were, and set up trap after trap to hinder or misdirect them into her own plans. Her own squad never had to think about the why, only the what, and were probably as surprised as their opponents when the traps were sprung on Yerin’s command.

It was unquestionably clear that Yerin was in fact the better commander regardless of the objectives given, despite the disadvantage she had in not being able to know her team beforehand. Heechul was quite satisfied with her showing, and he knew the board would be as well. He had wisely arranged for the session to be recorded, and this footage would be all the leverage he needed to proceed with his plans. 

Glancing at Seo Hee, Heechul frowned imperceptibly the toxic mix of fury and desire apparent on the young woman’s face. He had always known that Seo Hee was interested in Yerin, but it was rare for her to show it so openly. Granted, it was just the two of them and the technician running the simulation in this room, but still. He had expected better of her.

“I’ll grant that she’s capable.” That moment of open emotion was gone in a flash, as if Heechul had been imagining it, but the man knew better. He kept his own expression schooled, watching impassively as Seo Hee let out a breath to steady herself before turning to face him.

“All the more that she should fall under my command, where she can be sent out for field operations. Wouldn’t you say so?”

Her voice was almost reasonable, but the flash of avarice in her eyes betrayed her true desires. Heechul did not so much as crack a smile, though he was inwardly laughing at how transparent she was. 

“Quite a reasonable proposal, but such an asset would be a waste if applied to purposes beneath her potential, don’t you think? We only have one of her now, how many missions can she be expected to run on her own? We must look to the future, and plan accordingly.”

It was an answer, yet not. Heechul smirked inwardly at the frown that crossed Seo Hee’s features, and continued on in his most patient tone.

“You’ve always thought too small, Seo Hee. Always look at the bigger picture, and not at immediate gains. You might even learn something.”

Her jaw tightened at the implied insult, but Heechul was already turning away, striding out of the observation room with the downloaded footage of the simulations safe in his pocket. He had things to do, and had no time to waste with children caught up in the moment. 

Seo Hee glared at his retreating back, before looking back down at Yerin, who had finally removed her visor after being given the all clear. The assassin’s expression was neutral, but the wild spark that had so captivated Seo Hee all those years ago still burned dimly in those dark eyes, a miracle of sorts after the brainwashing the girl had just been given not so long ago. 

Would Yerin obey her if she gave her orders now? The thought was tempting. Seo Hee her lips, calculating the odds. Heechul had left Yerin here, all alone. Either he was confident of his control over the girl, or it had simply slipped his mind to take her with him. Seo Hee couldn’t be sure which it was, but it was her chance to get to the girl before he took her away again.

The man had guarded Yerin like she was his own daughter over the past couple of weeks, leaving no opportunity for Seo Hee to slip in and steal her out from under his nose. After the failed attempt to install the geas, she had decided to just wait for Heechul to break Yerin as promised before swooping in to feast on the results. Regardless of what she thought of the man personally, he was still the person who understood the Delta operatives the best, and it was just easier to let him ensure Yerin’s compliance this time, especially since his reputation and career were on the line. Whether he would get to keep the girl was still up in the air, and Seo Hee fully intended to steal Yerin for her own purposes this time.

Looking down one last time at the seemingly docile Yerin in the room, Seo Hee pushed her own desires back down for the moment. Her father was back in town this last week, and she fully intended to lean on his influence to get what she wanted. Heechul might be a manipulative bastard, but her father still had enough authority to bypass any schemes the man might have.

After all, Yerin was just one operative. How hard was it to wrest control of one person from an already disgraced handler? Seo Hee smirked to herself, tracing the outline of Yerin’s figure in the glass of the mirrored wall.

Just hold on a little longer, Jung Yerin. I can’t wait until you’re mine for good.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go with Sowon-unnie.” 

Eunha was holding the magicked compass she had cobbled together after the tracking spell she cast with Yuju’s blood hadn’t exploded on her like all the previous ones did. It was nowhere near as precise as what Yuju was capable of, but at least they had a direction now. 

Maintaining the spell was not easy on the go, so Eunha improvised. Making a compass made sense, since what the spell was doing was pointing them in the correct direction, and anchoring the spell to a physical object made it a lot easier to carry around without having to constantly redo the patterns in her head. It was one of the things Yuju had taught her early on, and Eunha once again felt the bitter irony of using the shaman’s lessons against her. 

They had split into two teams, Sowon with Umji, and SinB with Eunha, since the tracking effect was vague at best, and they needed to cover a lot of ground. It didn’t help that Yuju’s apparent location seemed to move every so often, and they couldn’t be entirely sure how far she was from them. The other compass she had pre-charged full of mana for Sowon to carry, while she could feed the compass she was carrying with her own energy on the go. 

“I don’t always have to be stuck to her,” SinB protested, shoving her hands in her pockets as she looked around the area. They were in the seedier side of town, and if the compass was leading them in the correct direction, they would be in the slums proper soon. It was a fair distance from where they started, and the gunslinger was mildly impressed that Yuju had managed to wander this far. 

Then again, with Yuju’s propensity to get herself completely and utterly lost, perhaps this was just par for the course. SinB rubbed at her shoulder absently, rotating it in its joint. It had gotten much better over time, but cold weather made it ache, and winter was already settling in over Incheon. She was sensibly dressed in a warm coat and fingerless gloves, and she blew hot air over her chilly fingertips to keep them from freezing up. If she hadn’t needed the flexibility to handle her guns, she would be as bundled up as Eunha was, but compromises had to be made. She couldn’t pull the trigger as well with thicker gloves, but at least she was still mostly protected. 

Most of Eunha’s face was lost underneath the fluffy scarf wrapped securely around her neck, and SinB thought it was probably overkill to be wearing a coat over a woolly sweater. It wasn’t quite that cold yet, but clearly Eunha didn’t think so. Ironic, really, for a fire mage to be so sensitive to the cold. It wasn’t like Eunha couldn’t literally make things heat up, but the fire mage justifiably argued that she couldn’t very well be setting everything around her on fire just to stay warm.

“And anyway, I was a little worried about you.” 

SinB looked over at Eunha, who was still laser-focused on the compass. Her best friend hadn’t talked much ever since Yuju had gone missing, and even as preoccupied as SinB had been, what with being injured and all, the gunslinger couldn’t help but notice that Eunha seemed to be slipping back into a dangerous state of mind. She had seen how Eunha was behaving after Yerin had gone rogue, and even though she hadn’t had the chance to mention it before, she definitely noticed the change in Eunha’s behavior around Yuju after that.

Eunha might have been trying to get over Yuju before, but Yerin’s betrayal appeared to have thrown a spanner into that process. It worried SinB because Eunha seemed to be falling back into what the gunslinger felt was a deeply unhealthy obsession with Yuju. Eunha needed to move on from the shaman, not fall back into a relationship that was clearly doomed to fail. SinB didn’t think it was going to work out, even if Yuju seemed to lean on Eunha more in Yerin’s absence. She didn’t want Eunha to be a mere replacement. Her best friend needed someone who loved her as she was, not as a backup plan. Eunha deserved better, and SinB didn’t think Yuju was the right person for her.

But it wouldn’t do to yell at her about it. Eunha might seem all nice and fluffy on the outside, but SinB had grown up with her and knew exactly how stubborn the girl could be once her heart was set on something. She could say her piece, but it was still up to Eunha to decide whether or not to take her advice. It was the least she could do as a friend.

“I’m not the one who’s been injured,” Eunha shot back, barely lifting her head. “How’s your shoulder by the way?”

“Sore, but I can move it now.” SinB flexed experimentally, a speculative look still on her face as she studied Eunha from the side. 

“What are you going to do if Yuju really has been killing people?”

The blunt approach was always SinB’s preferred choice. It cut through all the potential bull and got straight to the point, and SinB never did like wasting time. Life was short, and she had better things to do. The gunslinger knew that Sowon had plans regarding how to deal with Yuju if the peaceful approach didn’t work out, and that Sowon hadn’t told Eunha about them. 

To be honest, SinB was somewhat torn over whether to be honest with her best friend or loyal to her girlfriend’s decision. Eunha would never agree to putting Yuju down even if the shaman really were responsible for all the missing people in the slums. SinB could sort of see her point in that sense, because for all of Yuju’s potential faults, the shaman had thus far managed to avoid harming anyone close to her. That had to mean something, right?

But Sowon seemed adamant that a blood mage couldn’t be controlled once they went down the route of killing for power. SinB had never so much as seen a blood mage in person before Yuju went to town on the imugi the last time, so she had no prior point of reference before that, but she could appreciate the potential danger Yuju posed if the woman really did spiral out of control. The only ones among them with prior experience regarding blood mages were Sowon and Yerin, but Yerin was unavailable in any case and too biased towards Yuju even if she were, and Sowon’s assessment was grim at best.

Eunha paused at SinB’s question, slowing midstep as she considered. The possibility had occurred to her before, of course. Yuju going missing in the night previously had sparked those thoughts more than once, but Eunha had shoved those suspicions right back down shortly after. If Yuju really were killing others for power, why would she still be so drained all the time? It didn’t add up, and Eunha believed in Yuju’s character. The girl she loved was fighting hard to not give in to those primal urges, and she could sense the struggle underneath the apparent tranquility Yuju projected on the surface. She didn’t want to doubt Yuju, even if the evidence was starting to mount against her. 

And even if Yuju really did drain others for energy, what of it? It was a cold, almost selfish realization, and Eunha was abruptly reminded of the calculative glint in Yerin’s eye when they discussed the matter before. The assassin really would feed other people to Yuju if she thought it would help, not that Yuju would accept trading the lives of others to sustain herself. 

“Does it matter? She won’t hurt us. She could have, but she hasn’t so far.” 

Eunha knew she sounded more than a little defensive, but she hadn’t liked the way SinB approached the matter, as if it were a foregone conclusion. The Yuju she knew would never willingly hurt people, and to treat her like she was some kind of mad dog to be put down left a bad taste in . Eunha didn’t know what Sowon intended to do with Yuju, but she didn’t fully trust their leader to give Yuju the benefit of the doubt in this case. She had known Sowon across two lifetimes by now, and had a decent bead on the sort of person the ex-soldier was. Sowon never hesitated once she made a decision, and Eunha wasn’t sure she liked the kind of decision their leader was clearly on the verge of making.

Splitting up had been her idea, and Eunha fully intended to get to Yuju first, before Sowon could do anything precipitous. The compass she had given Sowon worked, of course, but it was nowhere near as strong as the one she was holding, and that was all the lead time she had arranged for herself. She believed in Yuju, and as long as Yuju didn’t hurt her or the people she cared for, she could tolerate a few sacrifices for the girl’s health. 

“I know, but you know what Umji saw.” 

She’s not stable anymore, SinB wanted to say, but she saw the look on Eunha’s face and the words faltered on the tip of her tongue. It almost hurt to see the stubborn faith Eunha had in Yuju, and SinB could only hope that Yuju was worthy of that devotion. 

“She needs help, SinB. I won’t give up on her.”

Eunha turned back to the compass, picking up the pace again as the needle spun crazily on its axis. They were close, she could feel it. She could almost taste it, the lingering scent of Yuju’s magic, like the rumble of thunder and ozone bleeding across the sharp tang of metal. 

Whatever the shaman was doing, it left a mark, and when another powerful pulse exploded outwards, even SinB felt that one, jerking her head in the same direction from which it came. The gunslinger sought Eunha’s eyes, and saw concern and excitement both in there.

“It’s her.” The fire mage confirmed, nodding decisively as she put the compass away, starting to move towards the action. SinB trailed a half step after her, worried.

“Shouldn’t we call the others?”

Eunha tensed, but didn’t look back. SinB put a hand on her best friend’s shoulder, but Eunha shrugged it off, turning her head to one side.

“Let me try talking to her first.” Eunha hesitated, a pleading note in her voice as she raised her head.

“ Please, SinB. I’m sure I can reach her. She’s just lost right now.” 

I want to save her. SinB could read that look in Eunha’s eyes, and her fist tightened in on itself. There was no guarantee that Yuju was safe to be around right now, and she didn’t like the idea of Eunha walking into potential danger, even if the mage was more than able to protect herself if something did go wrong. 

It was a gamble, essentially. But Eunha wasn’t giving her much room to maneuver, and she couldn’t very well override the other girl’s decision, short of knocking her out and carrying her away from this. SinB had a feeling Eunha wouldn’t like that very much, and in any case, she wasn’t sure she could stop Eunha from doing anything at this point. 

Standing this close to her, SinB could just make out the hint of scales underneath the scarf wound around Eunha’s neck. The fire mage was fully covered up, and SinB had a feeling that Eunha had armored up underneath all that clothing for more than just the impending confrontation with Yuju. The gunslinger made a sound that was half snort and half sigh. Just as she knew Eunha very well, Eunha knew her just as well. Her best friend evidently wasn’t going to budge on this at all.

“ Fine.” SinB sounded almost huffy, shoving her hands back in her pockets as she locked gazes with Eunha. Eunha nodded almost thankfully, reaching out to wrap SinB in a quick embrace.

“Thank you.”

SinB sighed deeply, returning the hug with a grumpy nod.

“Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

Eunha pulled away, eyes shining as she put on a brave smile.

“Always.”

Yuju wasn't exactly sure how she ended up following Ryujin back home, but then again, what other choice did she have at the time? 

She was alone in an unfamiliar part of town, and a friendly face was better than none. Granted, she didn’t really know Ryujin, but the girl had helped her once, and had given her a lot to think about after sharing everything she knew about her alter-ego.

It should have come as more of a shock, but Yuju found herself taking that news a lot more calmly than would have been otherwise expected. It was an old familiar feeling, the sense that she was not all quite there, and it explained a great deal about the gaps in her memories. Fear came from the unknown, and thus knowing was the first step to dealing with that fear.

And the other her was always there. Had always been, even before she had ever met Yerin. She didn’t remember it at all, but a part of her knew almost instinctively that it was true. 

I am you, and you are me.  

Her nightmares always held a grain of truth, blurred behind fractured images and hazy recollections. It was important, she knew, but the details lurked tantalizingly out of reach. Whenever she tried to seek out those memories, her head started to throb painfully, and she felt an inner resistance, as if that part of her past repulsed her. A part of her didn’t want to remember, and after several failed attempts, she had left it well alone, content to stay in the present.

Until now. It left a bad taste in , knowing for a fact that her alter-ego was moving and acting independently of her. It made her feel helpless and frustratingly vulnerable, and vaguely disgusted with herself. 

She had been struggling all this time, fighting her bloodthirst and resisting the temptation to feed off other living beings, and for what? Only to find that when she was unaware, the other her was already moving around and taking what she needed. 

But I don’t kill as the Spider. That’s what Ryujin said.

She wanted to cling to that, but she knew better. She had not forgotten what she had seen in Ryujin’s mind, the way she had almost casually slaughtered a whole unit of mercenaries and saved the kid almost offhandedly in the process. Who knew if she had killed more out of sight of others? She was a murderer, and a danger to others. 

A familiar wave of self loathing swept over her, and Yuju fought down a surge of nausea. Her dreams were bloody now, whispers of violence lurking at the edges whenever she nodded off into brief spells of dazed unconsciousness. She was even afraid to fall asleep now, really, because falling unconscious was almost an invitation to let the other her out to play. And she couldn’t afford that, not knowing what the other her wanted and what she was going to do next.

I won’t let you hurt anyone else, not on my watch.

The voices were silent this time, but Yuju could almost sense the mockery hidden within the empty rooms of her soul. It was deeply unnerving, knowing someone else was hidden inside her own body, watching her every move. She felt like a stranger to herself, and nothing seemed real to her anymore. Was everything she knew a lie? Which was the real her, and what were the things she had forgotten? 

Yuju felt like she was going crazy with the circular thinking, and it was almost a comfort to have the ever practical Ryujin making small requests of her to distract from her current predicament. It was odd, really. She would have expected the girl to be more afraid of her, especially after seeing what she was capable of, but Ryujin had been rather matter-of-fact about the whole situation.

“You could have killed me that night, but you didn’t. You could have killed those two men who attacked you, but you didn’t either. So either you are going to kill me at a later date, in which case there’s nothing I’m going to be able to do about it anyway, or you’re probably not going to kill me, so why worry?”

The logic was quite sound, all things considered, and somehow that laidback response managed to coax a short bark of laughter from the tightly wound Yuju. It was a brief moment of levity she desperately needed, and it was sort of nice to be around someone who didn’t worry about whether or not she was a dangerous serial killer. 

Yuju couldn’t find it in herself to face the people she knew right now. She wanted desperately to see Yerin, but her girlfriend was trapped behind enemy lines and she was under strict orders not to go after her. Yuju hated every moment that they were separated, because she couldn’t protect Yerin from the things they were subjecting her to. 

The familiar pulse that threaded her to Yerin’s soul was her only comfort in this trying time, and she could sense that her lover was no longer in pain or distressed at the moment, which was a good sign. It didn’t stop her from worrying in the least, but it was better than having to bear the weight of her suffering from afar, and not being able to do anything about it. 

Thinking about Yerin helped a little. There were brief moments when she felt connected to her other self, and those moments were strongest when she felt agitated for Yerin’s sake. Fear and rage, a desperate need to protect someone important to her. These were the feelings she had in common with her alter-ego, and it made Yuju feel marginally better. At least she could keep her promise never to hurt Yerin, if her other self was equally protective of her. 

Yuju pulled herself back to reality, focusing back on the task at hand. Ryujin was out, off to trade the results of her daily scavenge for essentials. Yuju had quietly lent a hand to foraging for food to feed them, the least she could do since she was pretty much imposing on the girl’s hospitality. Winter might be a harsh season for most people, but Yuju was attuned to nature in a way unlike others, and hunting was a lot easier for her than the average person. 

The first time she brought back a wild boar, even Ryujin had been quietly impressed. Wildlife had made a comeback since the Awakening, and the local fauna had quietly evolved to match their surroundings as well, becoming bigger and tougher to deal with the otherworldly threats that did target them. Wild boars were quite a threat to civilians living outside the safe zones, and there weren’t that many predators left around to cull their numbers. It hadn’t taken a lot of effort to find a good sized one that was rooting around the outskirts of the slums, and since Yuju’s pacifistic nature didn’t extend to animals, so that was dinner settled for the day. 

Out of curiosity, she had tried to see if draining the life energy of the boar would help her in any way. It was an extremely fast way to kill bloodlessly she found, though the energy she extracted was barely noticeable. 

It would be so much easier if you just drain people.

The thought was insidious, and Yuju shook her head, sick to the core. She couldn’t be sure if that came from her, or from her other self. Did it matter? The thought was there,  and had been haunting her ever since she unleashed blood magic from within during the fight with the imugi. The capability for it had always existed, she realized, but she had never consciously wielded it until then. She had no idea how the knowledge was embedded in her head, but it had something to do with her lost memories, she was certain. 

Ryujin’s younger brother shifted under her distracted gaze, looking curiously at her. He was unaware of what Yuju was truly capable of, of course, and Ryujin seemed determined to protect him from the knowledge. He doesn’t need to know, she said, looking at Yuju one night. 

No one in the area knew Yuju was the mythical Spider of the slums. Only Ryujin did, and she wasn’t about to announce it to others, much to Yuju’s relief. She was barely aware of her other self stalking the slums like some kind of parasitic superhero (or supervillain), though Ryujin’s descriptions of the Spider’s victims confused Yuju as to the intent of her alter-ego. Why would she leave them in a temporary coma instead of outright killing them? Not that she wanted to be killing anyone, mind you, but Yuju didn’t understand the logic.

It wasn’t like her other self had trouble with killing, not after how Ryujin had seen her slaughter a whole bunch of people in the blink of an eye. If absorbing life energy was the goal, draining people dry would be a lot faster and more efficient. But her other self had held back, only taking enough to knock people out temporarily before moving on. It was frustrating trying to figure out her motives, and it wasn’t like Yuju was able to communicate with her alter-ego. 

That would make things too easy, wouldn’t it?

Yuju pushed aside that bitter thought and looked deeper into the confused Seokmin’s body. Ryujin’s younger brother was still unwell, despite the girl having risked bringing him to a wellness center for medical assistance. His clubfoot might be beyond Yuju’s ability to repair, but a damaged heart was straightforward enough, ironically. Ideally, the boy needed open heart surgery to recover fully, but magic could perform miracles without invasive procedures, if of course, the person wielding it knew what they were doing.

Yuju did know. She was very intimately aware of the workings of the human body, the knowledge somehow embedded deep within her subconscious, one of the things she couldn’t adequately explain how she knew if you were to ask her. It was why she was always able to heal herself, despite the common knowledge that mages didn’t try healing magic on themselves, just as surgeons didn’t perform surgery on themselves, because of the risks involved. It just wouldn’t do to accidentally turn off something that wasn’t supposed to be turned off, or shut down nerves by accident and be unable to reverse them because it was in your own freaking body and messing up has consequences.

She had been quietly studying the boy’s condition for the last couple of days, identifying what needed to be fixed and gauging how much it would take out of her. If it had been before, she could have gotten it done within the hour and moved on with no issues, but she was no longer able to push her limits so recklessly. If she started seizing up again in the middle of working on the boy, bad things could happen. 

It was frustrating to be so constrained by her own weakness. The easy way out was still there, gesturing temptingly at her always, and her will to resist was wavering. Just a sip, you know it can be done, you don’t even have to kill anyone…

But it was still wrong to take from others, without their consent. Yuju was stuck in a moral dilemma, wanting desperately to help, but not wanting to hurt others in the process of doing so. Draining someone partially might not kill them outright, but she understood the long term consequences of doing so. She was stealing their essence, basically a part of their soul, and while the body could recover, it would leave them weaker in the long run. She could not in good conscience inflict that on innocents, who had done nothing to deserve such treatment.

Suddenly she wished she had enemies again, clear targets she could draw from without being paralyzed by her own ethical concerns. A bitter grin slipped onto her face. It said a lot that she would be considering this at all.

And she did have enemies, did she not?

Yuju was reminded of the people her other self murdered without hesitation, a sudden understanding dawning on her almost belatedly. Her alter-ego must have considered those people valid targets somehow, and Yuju could easily think of who she would automatically classify as an enemy, even if it wasn’t her doing the killing at the time.

The people hurting Yerin definitely counted as such, and Yuju felt a familiar fury seething within her at the memory. She felt every injury as if it were her own, and the time will come when she would extract payment for every wound. 

But that time was yet to come, and the boy in front of her was still weak. Placing a hand on his chest, Yuju took a deep breath and eased her own magic in, relieving the symptoms and easing the constant pain that was plaguing him. It wasn’t a complete fix, but it would stabilize his condition in the short term and cause less suffering on his part. The look of wonder on the boy’s face was almost worth the dizzy nausea that overcame her right after, and Yuju staggered back, leaning against the wall to steady herself even as her vision swam.

The young boy was saying something to her, but Yuju couldn’t really hear it, eyes squeezed shut as she slid down to hug her knees to herself, every nerve in her body feeling as if it were on fire. The side effects shouldn’t have come again so quickly, had she overestimated what she was capable of again? Yuju grit her teeth, riding out the episode by sheer effort of will. Cold sweat coated her forehead and back, leaving her shivering as she came out of the withdrawal with her hands still shaking. 

“Are you feeling better now?”

Yuju opened her eyes to see Ryujin sitting crosslegged in front of her, a look of concern on her youthful face. The girl acted so mature usually that she sometimes forgot that she was still little more than a child, but poverty had a way of robbing one’s childhood. Yuju relaxed her tense limbs, feeling stiff in her joints. That last episode had taken much longer than it actually felt.

“Thank you. For what you did.” Ryujin said after a moment, when Yuju didn’t respond immediately. Seokmin had informed her of what Yuju had done to take the pain away, and she was nothing if not grateful. The shaman looked ill though, and this was already the second time she had seen the woman having the shakes. Ryujin didn’t peg Yuju for a drug addict, but clearly something was not quite right with her.

“You don’t look so good. Do you need to...take something?”

It was the most discreet way she could think to put it. Yuju frowned imperceptibly, then sighed. She might not have been an addict in the traditional sense, but her mana cravings were not so dissimilar in practice. Ryujin shone very brightly in her astral sight, without the active patterns of a true mage. Partially Awakened then, with a strong core. Would be a good boost if you drained her.

No. Yuju swallowed nervously, awkwardly dry. Her discomfort was obvious enough, and Ryujin cocked her head in thought, a keen intelligence in slate gray eyes.

“If you need to take payment, I am willing.” The streetwise teenager squared her shoulders, decision made in a snap. Yuju looked ghastly pale, and Ryujin suspected that the shaman needed more than just food and rest to recover. It made her slightly nervous to offer, but the woman had helped her brother, and Ryujin always paid her debts. 

“What are you talking about?” Yuju shifted uncomfortably, forcing the hunger down as the temptation reared its head. A willing sacrifice, you won’t have to feel guilty.  

But Ryujin didn’t understand what it meant to offer this. Hell, how did the kid even guess that she was tempted to feed? Her confusion showed in her eyes, and Ryujin shrugged.

“The Spider is said to take payment in exchange for protection. I didn’t get to see it when you wiped out the blackclads, but I was watching you with those two vagrants.” The teenager paused, scratching awkwardly at her head at the uneasy reminder of how she had just stood by when the attempted assault happened.

“I can’t be sure, but I think I saw something bright move into you from them, and all your wounds healed up instantly afterwards. I mean, you fell over right after, but maybe what you took was just enough to heal yourself? I’m just guessing…”

Yuju stared at the young girl, shocked and somewhat impressed that she had managed to deduce this much. Healing took a lot of energy, especially with more severe wounds, and it was hard on her body considering she was already starving at the time. 

“You should know better than that, I don’t protect people. Not in that form.”

Yuju’s voice was raspy, her head hung low. Ryujin shrugged again.

“I know that, but that’s what other people believe.” The girl eyed Yuju shrewdly.

“You’re not proud of that other side, are you?”

Yuju smiled wanly, wringing her hands together. “I’m a leech, a parasite, when I’m like that. I take more than anything I am perceived to give… I’m not the hero they want me to be.”

She had heard the local talk, of course, in the few days she had spent in the tight knit community of the slums that Ryujin had inadvertently brought her into. Hearing the Spider spoken of in glowing terms made her feel ashamed somehow. She did not deserve any of the legends they were creating in her wake. 

They had no idea of the harm she was causing, even without deaths. They deserved better, not an energy vampire who was stealing years off their lifespans. Just because she didn’t kill them now didn’t mean she wasn’t hastening their eventual deaths. It was a hidden price mortgaged against their futures. She was no saint in all this, and their faith in her was clearly misplaced.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You say you never intended to help people, but your actions speak otherwise. For me, at least, you saved me from being taken, and from the stories I’ve heard, you never took from anyone who was innocent.”

At Yuju’s perplexed look, Ryujin met her gaze firmly, a world weary expression on her face that didn’t match her youthful features. It was a little heartbreaking to see, but Yuju kept her pity to herself. She didn’t think Ryujin would appreciate it in any case.

“I don’t think you understand what it’s like growing up here. None of us are clean, not really. We’ve all done terrible things to survive, and no one really believes in anything anymore. We don’t have time to worry about the future when we might not make it through today.”

The scrawny teen unfolded her legs, stretching out as she continued, looking up at the cracked grey ceiling of their hideout.

“When you take as the Spider, you helped the ones who couldn’t protect themselves. It isn’t a coincidence why they worship you, you know. The ones you take from are always the ones who would do worse, if you hadn’t been there. Even if you don’t remember, it’s still a good thing that you did. You gave people something to believe in, and us slummers don’t believe much in hope or justice. You did that, and it matters.”

There was a lump in Yuju’s throat as Ryujin’s speech tapered off, and she swallowed back unshed tears. There had been an earnest sincerity in the kid’s words, and wisdom way beyond her years. The simple faith in her was touching, and Yuju could see in Ryujin’s aura that the girl was completely at ease around her. No fear, and none of the initial nervousness she had read before when they had first interacted. This, despite knowing what she was capable of. It was a humbling realization. A stranger had more faith in her than she did herself.

“Anyway, you look terrible. Are you sure you don’t need to, you know…” Ryujin made a gesture with her hands to mimic absorbing something, and the exaggerated motions coaxed a laugh out of Yuju, who was most definitely not crying. Her eyes were just a little watery, that’s all.

“I’ll live.” Are you sure? Yuju pushed that intruding thought away along with her doubts, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She still felt absolutely miserable and wrung out, but it wouldn’t be the first time. She really needed to rest, having forced herself to stay awake for the better of the last two days, and Ryujin’s speech earlier was reassuring to some degree. She might not be able to communicate with her other self, but it seemed at least that her alter-ego was not deliberately causing harm all willy-nilly. That was good to know, even if she couldn’t agree with the methods involved.

“The offer still stands, you know. Or maybe I could sic you on the local gangsters, they should be around soon to collect their ‘protection credits’.” Ryujin rolled her eyes, jibing back with good humour. Both her and her brother had been eating a lot better ever since Yuju came along, and she was in much better spirits because of it. 

“Don’t,” Yuju grimaced. “I feel like a ghoul, feeding off people like that.”

“Well, you look like one right now. Get some sleep, I’ll wake you when dinner’s ready.” For someone this young, Ryujin was oddly good at taking care of others. She had a lot of practice with her brother, at least. The last couple of days had given Ryujin a good idea of the kind of person Yuju was, and she knew she could get away with being pushy. Yuju was a genuinely good person, and people like that usually didn’t last long in the slums. It was a good thing Yuju had the power to protect herself, really. Ryujin didn’t think she would have made it otherwise.

Yuju eyed the younger girl gratefully, nodding quietly before wrapping herself in the slightly grimy blanket, propping herself in a corner to get some shut-eye. The terror was still there, that the other her would wake while she slept, but Ryujin’s words had gone a long way towards settling those fears. That, and she was really exhausted. The magic burn she had given herself after healing the boy was no joke, and she needed to sleep it off. 

There was so much she had to think about, and she couldn’t stay here forever. Yerin still needed her, and she couldn’t collapse now before she saw her lover come back safe to her. But there was nothing she could do until she got better, and there was still the matter of her missing memories and her alter-ego to deal with. The weight of her problems was a staggering mountain, and she didn’t have any clue how to go about tackling them.

To tell the truth, Yuju was tired, her mind a confusing tangle of clashing priorities and fogged by exhaustion. Sleep beckoned tantalizingly, and she tumbled into that waiting darkness with a resigned sigh. Come hell or high water, everything could wait until she got some rest.

The smell of blood on the wind reached Eunha’s nose before anything else, and it did nothing to reassure her of the situation even before she arrived on the scene. Things had gotten eerily silent, and even SinB wasn’t cracking wise for once, a grim worry evident on her face.

The slums were labyrinthine in itself, architecture twisted to its own logic after being repurposed by the slummers that had taken over. The inhabitants had gone to ground even before the pair stumbled into their lair, clearly spooked by something more than two intruders in the night. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the empty tunnels, led unerringly by Eunha, who was using her magical senses instead of her physical ones. A good choice, possibly the only choice, considering the number of paths branching off at random into an unmapped darkness. 

SinB had her guns out already, the safety with a tense twitchiness as her eyes darted around, wary of any possible threat from the shadows. This deep in the Underground, it was almost warm for winter, away from the cutting winds above ground, but their breaths still puffed white in the air, and something was dripping unseen in the darkness. 

Twists and turns that SinB couldn’t even begin to remember after the tenth time or so, and she allowed herself to be led by Eunha, whose eyes were glowing dimly in the night. This place was alien to her, and if she had the time, SinB would have gladly explored the place on her own, if only to map the place in her mind. It was a habit she hadn’t had the chance to indulge in lately, and being in unfamiliar surroundings unnerved her on a visceral level.

Not knowing where to run could be fatal in a potentially hostile situation. SinB wasn’t an optimist on the best of days, and she too had noticed the blood scent in the air. It wasn’t the smell of old blood and rot and vomit, the kind that she was used to growing up in the slums of Ulsan. 

No, this was fresh, and there was an undercurrent of danger in the silence of the slums. Everyone had gone to ground, which only happens when something bad was going on. Gang violence, usually. Not everyone wanted to get involved in those. It was hard enough living in the slums without getting drawn into unnecessary fights. 

Lost in her own speculations, SinB almost ran right into Eunha's back when they turned another corner, the narrow tunnel opening up into a wider space that used to be part of an old station. 

"What the…" SinB started, hopping back to regain her balance. Her eyes flicked over Eunha's shoulder, and a small gasp escaped her lips at the sight that had stopped her best friend in her tracks. 

The flickering of old emergency lights lent a ghastly cast to the macabre scene before them. Multiple bodies lay carelessly strewn across the platform, some bearing the loudly mismatched clothing of local gangsters with their clan insignias, while several others were in nondescript black, heavy weaponry broken and discarded around them. The only thing they had in common was that they were all obviously dead, some more messily than others, hence the heavy stench of fresh blood. It also explained the persistent dripping they had been hearing, and SinB fought back a wave of nausea at a headless torso impaled on a nearby spike, the puddle at its base still spreading languidly, not having time yet to dry. 

And in the center of it all, a lone figure stood upright, head tilted up at the unseen moon far above from where they were currently buried under tons of dirt and concrete. The sickly green of the emergency lights did nothing to hide the spots of blood spattered on one side of her face, nor the defined features they both knew so well. 

"Yuju…?"