“Yuju…?”

Eunha's voice was very small, yet it was almost resonant in the vaguely sepulchral chamber they were in. SinB looked away, unable to face the reality they were presented with, nor the soft, hurt confusion in Eunha's tone. Sowon had been right all along, and her heart ached for the shattering of her best friend's illusions. 

Yuju turned slowly, eyes burning a dim red. She looked oddly clean despite the massacre around her, save for irregular splatters on her face and neck. Writhing tattoos receded down one side of her face past her neck, a fiery orange tracery that stood out against her skin, moving about restlessly before fading back into hiding, leaving behind untouched skin. Her expression was impassive, though her eyes seemed to hold the vague satisfaction of a job well done. It was almost eerie to see this stranger wearing Yuju’s face, because this was not the Yuju they knew.

Or was it? This strange Yuju’s expression seemed to soften at the sight of Eunha, a flicker of a smile merging into an almost childlike innocence that stood out in stark contrast to the corpses strewn by her feet. It was almost oddly familiar, that expression, so much like the Yuju they thought they knew, but SinB couldn’t help but feel a chill seeing this. Just who was this they were facing?

“You found me~”

There was an almost childlike glee in the slightly singsong tone, and SinB fought down the urge to raise her guns at Yuju, not wanting to trigger the other girl into the violence she was clearly capable of. The gunslinger focused instead on the back of Eunha’s head, hiding in the shadow of her smaller unnie. This Yuju scared her somehow, and she wanted to be anyplace but here.

“What have you done?” Eunha whispered, taking a half step towards Yuju, reaching out towards the somewhat giddy shaman, who was bouncing on her feet and swaying from side to side, looking restlessly around like a child with too much energy to burn. 

“They came and woke me up, and they were bad people...we won’t go back. Never again.” Not-Yuju giggled to herself, red and gold mixing in her eyes like the swirling vortex of a supernova. Glowing eyes locked with Eunha’s worried gaze, a tiny pout forming on the taller girl’s lips.

“Will you still love me like this? I’m a good girl too.”

Eunha’s eyes widened minutely, her half-raised hand frozen in the air between them. Her hesitation was not lost on the other Yuju, who cocked her head to one side with a certain sulky disappointment.

“No? Unnie, I thought you would be different from the rest, but I guess not…”

Yuju never called her that. Yuju never talked like that. Eunha’s eyes narrowed, the temperature around her rising subtly as her aura spiked.

“Who are you?”

The Cheshire grin was deeply unnerving on Yuju’s face, so familiar yet so foreign with mannerisms she had never seen the shaman display before. Eunha ran the possibilities through her head, wondering how in the world someone could have hijacked Yuju’s body this way. Was it the imugi? But it sounded nothing like the arrogance of the pseudo-dragon. Some hostile spirit? But how could she have missed it all this time?

“But I am Yuju...I know you, and little SinB over there too.” Not-Yuju giggled again, her gaze wandering over to where SinB was still trying to be inconspicuous. 

“Are you scared of me? I won’t hurt you, you know. Even though you hit me that time.”

This unfamiliar Yuju reached up to touch her eye, the same one that SinB had punched before. SinB winced, lowering her guns because they would do no good in this situation, and she didn’t want to risk provoking this stranger wearing Yuju’s face. But if it were truly a stranger, how would it know what happened before? The gunslinger shuddered. Nothing about this made sense.

“The Yuju I know isn’t like this.” Eunha clenched her fists, trying to resist the flames that were starting to flicker into existence around her, like foxfire in the dark. “She doesn’t kill people.”

“Oh you’re talking about her. ” Not-Yuju wrinkled her nose, pouting. “Of course she wouldn’t. She never had to. We take care of everything for her. And they were bad people. They’ll hurt us if we don’t stop them. We won't let them do it again."

"Again?" Eunha pounced on the keyword, paying attention to every word this odd version of Yuju was saying. This Yuju seemed to know them, but spoke of the Yuju they knew as a separate person somehow. If it were a hostile spirit, had it been present in Yuju's body the entire time they had known her? And if so, how did she never discover it before? 

Not-Yuju seemed to grow more agitated at the reminder, kicking contemptuously at one of the blackclad corpses on the ground in a childish fit. 

"Lock us up and tear us apart...never again. We won't ever go back, not for anything." 

The altered shaman then shook her head furiously, covering her ears. "No no, I know we need to but it hurts…" 

SinB tugged at Eunha’s elbow, a look of concern on her face. Eunha shook her head. Give me time. SinB scowled, disliking her decision, but backing off anyway. Her hand strayed to her watch, quietly pinging Sowon to their location in case the leader hadn’t noticed their current location. It wasn't exactly a betrayal, but SinB honestly believed they needed backup. This Yuju frightened her on a primal level, and the only person who could potentially fight her on the same level was more intent on talking to her instead. Sowon would know what to do if she were here. SinB sighed quietly, backing into a shadowed corner. She didn't like this at all. 

Eunha stepped closer to the struggling Yuju, tentatively pulling her into a loose embrace. Childlike Yuju whimpered softly and hunched over into Eunha’s hug, making herself seem smaller despite being half a head taller than the fire mage. 

“It’s going to be okay…” Eunha soothed the distraught shaman. “I’m here for you, you don’t have to be alone.”

“Can’t hold it…” Not-Yuju gasped, struggling out of Eunha’s grasp and hugging herself close. The red in her eyes flared brighter, and the shaman squeezed her eyes shut, shuddering. “We can’t...please, stay away, don’t wanna hurt you.” Another pained wheeze. “Not now…”

Eunha tried to step closer, but a negative backlash of energy made her hold up her hands instinctively, backing up as she averted her eyes. Off to one side, SinB gaped as Yuju clapped her hands around her ears, lips parted in a soundless scream as the jet black of her hair was stained a deep, rich red. The writhing tattoos that had receded earlier returned with a vengeance, lending an unholy tint to her skin as the glowing lines moved like a living thing across pale flesh. Blood red eyes snapped open like twin lamps in the shadows, an alien disregard cold in those luminescent orbs.

“Yuju?” Eunha whispered, not liking how the shaman had changed even further. Something was deeply amiss, and instinctively she called on her hidden scales, reinforcing her defenses and pulling SinB behind her just in case. 

Red-haired Yuju placed a finger to her lips, a half-mocking smirk curving the edges.

“Shh, she’s sleeping.” The tattoos shifted on her face, framing it in a dizzying web of arcane symbols. “She’s tired, let her rest. I’ll take care of things for now.”

“Who are you? ” Eunha sounded visibly hostile, flames sprouting from the ends of her fingers. The tiny mage gritted her teeth. “Give her back. ”

The redhead waved a finger dismissively. “Not now, not yet, not till I have what I need.” An ironic chuckle. “I’m not her, but you can call me the Spider.” A tiny shake of her head. “She should have named me, why didn’t she name me? I would be hers then. But now…”

Shadows gathered at the feet of the possessed Yuju, crawling up her legs and shrouding her in darkness, until only the glowing outlines of her tattoos were visible through the mist. Eunha growled, trying to strike forward with her flames to stop her, but a tinny laugh was her only reply.

“Not yours, never yours, but she’s mine! I’ll never give her up, not now, not ever...she’ll never be free of me, blood to blood...I would be hers if she will have me, but she will always be mine…”

A shot fired through the air where the shadows gathered, but the bullet only parted the smoke-like wisps ineffectually, pinging off the far wall as Sowon cursed, lowering her rifle as Umji tagged along at her heels. 

Eunha whipped around, furious. 

“What are you doing? ”

Sowon glared at the empty space where Not-Yuju had faded out like static, before redirecting her attention to the angry bunny. 

“She’s no longer the Yuju we know, Eunha. You can’t possibly not see that.”

Eunha forced down the flames from her hand, clenching it into a tight fist as she regulated her breathing. Her eyes were fierce as she met Sowon’s gaze.

“She’s still in there, we can’t just…”

“ Eunha. Look at all the dead here and tell me she’s not dangerous. I know you care about her, but if we let this continue, we won’t have much of a city left soon. She needs to be stopped. ”

Eunha kneaded at her temples, grinding her teeth together. Sowon had a point, but this was Yuju. Even the childlike version had known better than to attack them, no matter how unusually she had been behaving. Hell, not even the Spider that had taken over at the last minute had done so. Sowon only saw the most unstable version of Yuju, and the potential for disaster that came with her. Eunha only saw the hurt little girl that had been in her arms just minutes earlier, and it made her heart wrench to remember it. Something terrible had happened to her before, and this was the result. Yuju needed help, not more persecution.

However, Eunha didn’t understand how she had missed the Spider lurking within Yuju before. How deeply had it have to be entrenched for it to escape all her scans? It laid a claim on the shaman, and she suspected it was the reason why Yuju knew blood magic to begin with. There was a link between them, and if she could find a way to sever it, perhaps Yuju would be free of the problems that plagued her. 

But first she had to find her, and prevent Sowon from killing her outright. Eunha lowered her head, shadows falling over the planes of her face. 

Nothing was going to stop her from protecting Yuju. Not even her friends.

Yerin the electronic collar on her neck, cleverly disguised as a choker that went well with her black leathers, but it changed nothing about the fact that she was tagged like a prisoner on parole. 

But they had let her out on her own for the first time in weeks, and that was an improvement. Flexing her arms experimentally, the assassin stretched as she walked out onto the streets, aware that she was still being watched, but unbothered by the scrutiny. She had grown up under this type of surveillance, and while it irked her somewhat, she knew how to live with it. 

Ever since the combat simulations, they had put her back on intensive physical training and run constant assessments on her field ability. It felt almost familiar, falling back into old routines, save for the lack of friendly faces she used to laugh and joke with. The new kids were all so young, and all of them had a particular flatness to their expressions as a result of the geas implanted within them. 

However, that did not make them entirely homogeneous, despite appearances. Little flairs of personality leaked through despite the enforced conformity, and Yerin was hardly surprised by this. Even with all their attempts, these were still human beings with their own quirks, and forced obedience did nothing to erase the individuality that still lurked underneath chains both magical and mental. On the surface they were all the same, but spend enough time with them, and one could easily pick out the differences in personality and preferences.

Yerin might not have been there to make friends, but it was good to know these things. She had no friends here, and Heechul was barely an ally in the traditional sense. Knowing her surroundings and the people around her came naturally, and she remained silent for the most part, doing what was expected of her as she gauged her chances. 

Trust was difficult to regain, and while Heechul waged a clever struggle against existing factions who didn't want him back in the game, she lurked like a serpent in the dark, biding her time. She was being used, that much she knew, but she had no qualms about that. She might have been caught, but she was no helpless victim on the chopping block. She wasn't a starving five year old anymore. Things were different now. She had options, and she was exactly the weapon they made her to be. Whether that weapon was to be wielded against their enemies, or turned against foes internal, that still remained to be seen. 

As it was however, Heechul needed more bargaining chips, and it was for this Yerin was allowed to venture out, an opportunity hard fought for. Always be prepared. Yerin always left ways out for herself, kept things that could be useful later on, even if it didn't seem necessary at the time. This quiet tendency to hoard wasn't widely advertised, but it had come in handy before, and would come in useful now. 

Blowing up the tower after they had finished the imugi had been one way to erase evidence of their involvement and keep the imugi's remains from being exploited by whoever came after. Yerin had gone behind Sowon's back to approach Bogeun for backup regarding that plan. Her former mentor, surprisingly, didn't require much convincing. She could never have wired the demolition charges on her own in the limited time frame they had been given, but with Spartan backup, all things were possible. 

Yerin almost missed the feeling of having so many more resources to call on when necessary. Almost. It was still grating to be kept on a tight leash, like a hunting dog broken to heel. It was the price to pay for access, but Yerin was nothing if not flexible when it came to adapting to her circumstances. She didn't like being here, but since she was here anyway, she might as well work with what she had. 

The assassin kept her expression neutral as she paced through the streets, taking turns almost at random and meandering with seemingly no aim in mind. But she was approaching her target slowly regardless, and it just wouldn’t do to make a beeline straight for the prize when she still had a tail that would likely be all too eager to steal the results for their own purposes. A tiny smirk curled the assassin’s lips as she jerked quickly into a side street. The collar might be able to track her location, but there were limits to its precision under certain conditions. The moments in between them laying eyes on her physical self after following her digital trace would be the seconds she needed to retrieve what she needed and move on without them ever noticing what she had already done.

Internal politics was not new to her. Yerin yawned lazily, well aware the sudden scramble somewhere behind her as her tail struggled to keep a direct line of sight on her. Amateurs, all. They had an electronic locator on her but still  at keeping an eye on her. If not for the collar, she could have shaken them cleanly within the first fifteen minutes. Yerin shrugged. No wonder Heechul wanted her to take command of the black ops forces. If this was what they were reduced to, it was little wonder that the underground conflict in the city had dragged on for this long. The extended litigation battles that had surfaced between Tristar and Hyeongdae was but a mere piece of the wider conflict. 

Had it been before, they would have gathered all the information their side needed and planted false data as necessary to sabotage the competition. Incheon was their backyard, and no one knew it better than they did. That opposing companies had managed to infiltrate this deeply into the shadows of Incheon would have been taken as a personal insult by her old team. The watchers were always there, of course, but they only saw what they were allowed to see. 

But now, Tristar was half blind in their own backyard. Yerin should have known, from how it had taken them months to even realize she was back in Incheon. The wheels of bureaucracy might be slow, but the shadows moved with the swiftness of the killing undertow, silent and deadly. It was almost disappointing to witness this change in company policy, as their power shifted into the open, with a doubling, even tripling of their security corps armed with the latest weapons. Tristar was still a powerhouse, that much was obvious, but the focus was now more on projection of overt force, rather than steel wrapped in velvet, where they pulled the strings from the shadows. 

It was a wonderful time to be a runner in Incheon now though. Someone had to do the dirty work still, and when their in-house forces had largely been converted to military spec, outsourcing became widespread again. While Tristar always did use runners for low priority missions where it was best to have plausible deniability and discardable tools, old policy maintained that they used their internal black ops for high value missions, with external support hired only as cover for the real target. It was a constant high stakes battle of cloak and dagger underneath the peaceful facade of a lawful state, where everyone pretended to follow the rules and get along, but scratch under the surface, and the truth was a bloody mess.

Yerin was a child of this conflict, carefully shaped and honed to be on the frontlines of this shadow struggle. Most regular folks never had to worry about it, thanks to the underground nature of the fight, since there was still invested interest in keeping things hidden from plain view. There were occasional collateral damages, but those were few and far between. Before, that is. Yerin didn’t have much faith in the current system. They were headed to open conflict at this rate, and from the data she had mined from Hyeongdae in the last few months, she didn’t like the signs she read. The game was changing, subtly but surely, and Tristar’s policy shift was partially in response to that. 

That said, it didn’t mean that her ilk was useless. The Spartan commander had a military background, and part of it shone through in the training they had been given. She had enough tactical sense to command small scale skirmishes in guerilla style, and Yerin suspected that was Heechul’s goal in bringing her in. He had been discredited for the apparent failure of the Delta program, but her successes were tied to his, so he had every interest in showing her value to the company. 

Well, she could play at this game. Yerin cracked her knuckles as she pivoted down a different street, angling into a blind spot and snagging another part of what she needed with barely a pause, hiding it into her pockets and moving on before her watchers noticed. She had had the foresight of stowing her data away from base before, just in case she needed to retrieve it without exposing her hideout to anyone who might be watching. She was still missing the larger samples, but that would be her last stop on this run. A canning factory was a little difficult to get into without immediately exposing her interest in the building, but the refrigeration had been needed, and it was distressingly easy to conceal the samples in a lesser used corner, beyond all the lab grown meat kept fresh in between conveyance to their eventual fate in sealed packaging.

It was all that remained of the imugi’s flesh and blood, after all. She had personally seen to it that even if any crews were able to dig through the rubble for its remains, none of it would be in a usable state. Yerin took no chances with that. There were risks in allowing others unfettered access to a being that powerful, even in death. Tristar loved getting their hands on such samples, their main business centering on arcane research. The best magical foci and spell aids were manufactured by them, and any advances in that area would only better their bottomline. It wouldn’t be the first time Yerin had retrieved high value samples for them, and it had almost been force of habit when she had a moment by the imugi’s corpse at the time. 

The samples had been magically preserved for months now, and the refrigeration was just an additional safeguard in case the seals failed. Fresh samples were the best, although there were still uses for degraded samples. Heechul had been pleasantly surprised when she revealed the existence of those samples to him, and while he had kept the exact nature of the bounty from his superiors, he was definitely a lot more motivated to let her retrieve them to further his cause. 

Still, she could expect rival factions to try and intercept her the moment the samples were retrieved. Yerin smirked, bouncing on the balls of her feet in anticipation. Time to lead them on a merry chase, and the end goal was to get back to HQ without losing her prize. 

There were no restrictions to harming or even killing any of her pursuers. Internal politics was no less brutal than the shadow war against external competition, and the upper management closed one eye to all these shenanigans as long as the end result benefited the company as a whole. Hell, the competition was even encouraged, with better bonuses and career advancements for those who managed to one up their counterparts. 

The world of the megacorps was a cutthroat place for those seeking to climb the ladder. The costs were always borne by the rank and file, as those above played their games of power. Yerin was one of the sharpest knives in her trade, and now she was about to get bloody again. For all her reservations, she couldn’t wait. This was what she was made for, and she needed to show them who was the best at the game.

They would underestimate her at their own risk. She might be one person, but could they even catch her? The sun shone its sickly light from far above, filtered by the ill grey clouds that slathered a film over everything it touched. It might have been light out, but the shadows remained. Where they were people, there was always shadow.

And she would be that knife in the dark, ready to cut. 

Yuju wasn’t sure how she ended up by the docks this time, far away from the last place she remembered being in. People had been talking, and then someone barged their way in? The last thing she clearly remembered was someone backhanding little Seokmin out of the way, the young boy’s face rapidly bruising from the blow. She had been mad, and then…?

There were too many, and she was still weak. The gangsters only wanted their money, so that was relatively easy to deal with, under normal circumstances. But the first of the booted feet that followed them in were not friendly in the least, and that was when her memories cut off abruptly, bleeding into crimson shadows as an unknown horror struck her.

But she was here now, the danger was past (?) and she was relatively uninjured. Yuju had regained consciousness to find herself dipping her feet into the freezing water of the bay, humming an unknown lullaby she vaguely recalled hearing in her youth. The strained burden that plagued her veins seemed oddly lighter, and she was able to warm herself easily with the uninterrupted flows of her magic, something she hadn’t been able to freely do since her affliction grew worse. It felt good to be able to breathe again, magically speaking. Every casting had felt like broken glass shredding through the usual paths, and while she had learned to deal with it, it was not enjoyable to say the least.

Yuju wasn’t sure how much time had passed since her last conscious memory, but instinct suggested that at least a day or more had gone by. It had been late afternoon when she had taken a nap, and no more than early evening when she had been abruptly awakened back then. It was about midday now, but was it midday of the next day, or longer still? Yuju pulled the makeshift cloak tighter around her body, still staring into the waters of the bay, though she had sensibly taken her feet out of the water this time. Just because she could warm herself wasn’t an excuse to taunt frostbite in midwinter. 

She wasn’t sure where to go or what to do. The wilds called out to her, to hide away from civilization where she would not hurt anyone. She had done so once, she could do it again. 

But Yerin was still here, in this city, and close. Closer than she had been in weeks, and Yuju rose to her feet, head turning towards the general direction where she sensed her lover. Still far enough that she couldn’t reach out directly, but close enough to read her movements distinctly. She could taste the tension as if it were her own, and Yuju scowled, undecided on whether she should make her way over to help. Yerin had warned her to stay out of sight, and while she knew that the assassin was more than capable of taking care of herself, her blood rumbled with the need to see her again. 

If not for the link between them, she would have lost her mind from worry. It was not the same as being able to see and hold her close, but it was still better than nothing. 

Why and who was she fighting? Unconsciously, Yuju took a few steps forward, then forced herself to stop. She had to trust that Yerin knew what she was doing. 

Bleed them. Make them hurt.

A broken image flashed through her mind, leaking through the open link to reveal Yerin’s perspective. She was reaching further than she thought herself capable of, but the connection was frail at this distance. Were she closer, she would be able to see through Yerin’s eyes easily.

The voices whispered to her, myriad and sibilant, spurred on by what she saw. Her nails dug into her palm, the muscles in her arm trembling. A deep loathing welled up from within her unbidden, especially after catching sight of the goons who were vainly trying to catch Yerin and failing miserably at it. This should have amused her, but she was shaking instead. 

She had not felt such unease ever since realizing she was barely in control of her body whenever she out. Something about those outlines terrified and unnerved her, and her head was starting to throb painfully, making her grit her teeth in thinly veiled irritation. Murky shadows clouded her mind, and Yuju was starting to lose track of what was real and what was just a figment of her imagination as bright spots blurred her vision.

But was it really her imagination though? The shadowy outlines in her mind felt eerily familiar. I should know this. I have been there. Why don’t I remember?

But try as she might, she couldn’t grasp hold of those elusive memories. A wave of dizziness overcame the shaman, and Yuju shaded her eyes against the wan sunlight, gradually arriving at a decision her heart had already made for her.

We hunt.

Flecks of gold swirled in the depths of her dark irises as she cricked her neck sideways, tongue flicking out to taste the bitter winter air. Yerin’s enemies were hers as well, and she had said nothing about removing any threats who were foolish enough to wander near her.

I won’t go too close. Just take some of them out, take the pressure off her. So she can do what she needs to do. 

Every fiber in her being trembled at the thought. A tiny voice wondered if it was right to do this, but a deeper fury motivated her now. They would hurt what is mine. They deserve to pay the price. I will protect her at all costs.

Drawing wards of unsight around her, Yuju stepped into the thriving mob of dock workers busy at their tasks, moving silently like a wolf amidst indolent sheep. No one paid attention to her as she stepped deftly past them, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head to conceal her face. Yerin said to keep low, stay hidden. For her sake, she would at least try.

If people felt a little colder after she left them in their wake, they dismissed it as the chill of winter, easily reasoned away and ignored. After all, they were barely affected, but if anyone had the Sight to see it, they would not help but notice the walking black hole of energy Yuju had become, up the ambient magic of the living throng around her, just enough to keep her powered up without outright killing anything. A red mist hung around her on the astral plane, obscuring her true form as she stalked, murder a song in her heart.

Had she more clarity in her thoughts, she would have been aghast. But her focus had narrowed down to a single priority, and a multitude of voices whispered in her ears, spurring her forward. Her prey had no idea she existed, but soon they would. Everyone would know.

Death stalked the streets on silent wings. Monsters weren’t only confined to the dark, hidden away in shadow where you could close your eyes and pretend they didn’t exist. They were real, they were here, and sometimes, they were made. The worst demons were always the ones born from within. Actions had consequences, and the chickens were coming home to roost.

There was always a price to be paid for all things. The reaper was coming to take its due. The storm was coming, and then there would be blood.

I will not be held.