“Teach me how to shoot.”

SinB turned to regard Umji, who was standing behind where she was currently lounged on the couch playing video games.

“Are you still hung up on losing at the arcade the other day?” SinB raised an eyebrow. They had split into two teams to play an augmented reality version of laser tag, SinB teaming up with Yuju and Yerin, while Sowon took Umji and Eunha. It was the fairest team division they could come up with, since Yuju had no experience with guns, while Umji had little actual combat experience in the field. Eunha knew how to shoot, thanks to SinB’s influence over the years, but even SinB had to acknowledge that her team had an advantage by default, because she already worked well with Yerin, and it was probably unfair to make Sowon carry the team when they were on even playing fields within the game scenario.

Without their actual advantages in the real world, everything was down to skill and reaction time in the game, as well as situational combat awareness. Sowon was excellent on all those fronts, but having to cover for Eunha and Umji held her back. Yuju was technically the weakest link on SinB’s team, but the shaman had excellent chemistry with Yerin, and was smart enough to stay out of the way and take pot shots as necessary. Needless to say, SinB and Yerin worked extremely well together, and their competitive streak meant that they often picked on the weakest link on Sowon’s team: Umji. The kill/death ratio in the post-match stats were...hilariously embarrassing for the youngest of the team. And clearly, it was bothering her.

“You know, you’re actually a pretty good shot according to the game stats.” SinB paused her game, taking off her AR headset to face Umji properly. “Yuju tends to miss a lot more than you did.”

The hacker’s shoulders slumped, even as she rounded to the front of the couch to plop down next to SinB. “Yeah, but she’s really good at avoiding getting shot at too.”

That was true. Yuju might not actually have done much damage the entire match, but she did manage to run away whenever either Sowon or Eunha found her. Usually leading them right to either SinB or Yerin lying in ambush. The shaman was surprisingly good at being bait, SinB had to admit. Thanks to that, she managed to get the jump on Sowon a couple of times, before their leader finally caught on to the trick.

Umji actually had fairly good aim, but her reaction times were just a little slow, and she wasn’t quite as aware of her surroundings as she should have been. A lot of it was just a lack of real combat experience, and Umji tended to freeze when being boxed in by her opponents. SinB shook her head. Too much theory, not enough practice. Sowon was probably doing more harm than good keeping Umji off the field the way she did.

“Honestly, you know how to shoot. You just need field experience.” SinB summed up. Yuju might be a wild shot, but she made excellent use of the terrain for cover and evasion to make up for her weaknesses. Umji spent too much time thinking about the best ways to approach, and not enough time reacting to sudden changes. It wasn’t a skillset one could exactly download. Time and practice mattered in this case.

“Sowon-unnie never lets me join you guys.” Umji sulked. SinB shrugged.

“Real fights tend to come with real bullets, and you don’t get to respawn from death. She just doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m just tired of being left behind.” Umji said suddenly, leaning back on the couch to stare at the ceiling. “All of you go out there and all I can do is just watch from far away. I feel so helpless sometimes.”

“Don’t be, you make our lives a lot easier with your techno-wizardry, you know.” Eunha suddenly piped up, shuffling in from the kitchen area in her bunny slippers. She handed one mug to SinB, and then sipped calmly from her own. “Without your intel, we’d be going in blind on so many situations. You’re doing great work, honey.”

Umji sighed. “But my tech doesn’t work once magic starts coming into play, and I don’t have access to Delta-grade materials for shielding.” She looked at SinB and Eunha seriously.

“Do you know how awful it was to know that you guys were in danger back then, but there was nothing I could do?”

SinB and Eunha exchanged a glance, silence falling over the room for a moment. There really was nothing much to say to that. It wasn’t like they didn’t understand Umji’s dilemma, but what good was there in dragging her to a fight she wasn’t going to be prepared for? It would just increase the casualty rate unnecessarily.

“Something wrong?” Yerin walked in from the other hallway, evidently emerging from Yuju’s room. Eunha looked behind her, but Yuju didn’t follow her out. The shaman had seemed happier after their night out together as a team, so she had been hoping that the girl would come out and interact more with the rest. Yerin noticed Eunha’s gesture, and nodded in acknowledgement.

“She was tired, so she’s sleeping again.”

“Again?” Eunha frowned. It had been happening more and more frequently, to be honest. Yerin and Eunha had been running diagnostics both medical and magical over Yuju when the lethargy started rearing its head, but nothing seemed to be overtly wrong with the shaman. She had already recovered physically, and while her aura was a little dimmer than it used to be, she seemed fine overall. It didn’t explain why Yuju was so exhausted all the time though, and it was starting to worry them.

“Yeah.” There was a tinge of worry written into Yerin’s face, but she redirected her attention to the downcast Umji in the meantime. “What’s gotten you down, kiddo?”

“She wants to join us in combat, but you know how Sowon is.” SinB held up a hand in resignation. “She can’t get better if she doesn’t get practice, but stuff tends to get dangerous when we’re out on missions. She’ll just get underfoot at this point.” SinB glanced apologetically at Umji. “Sorry, but it’s true.”

Umji heaved a sigh. “I know, it’s just...I want to help out more.”

“You are being helpful.” Eunha reassured, heading over to give Umji a hug. Yerin raised an eyebrow.

“She’s a pretty good shot though. Just a bit slow.”

SinB smirked. “I said that earlier.”

Yerin thought about it, then went over to ruffle Umji’s hair affectionately.

“Do you know what’s the best way to take down mages?”

“Weird change of subject.” SinB interjected, and Eunha kicked her best friend in the shin to shut her up. SinB scowled, but settled down. Yerin grinned a little at that.

“Catching them offguard is the best way to take one down. If they don’t know you’re there, they can’t defend against you. I was a mage hunter once, you know?”

Umji looked interested, turning to face Yerin as she tried to get her hair back under control. “Really?”

“Yep.” Yerin hopped onto the arm of the couch by Umji. “I can sneak close to them to take them out, but that’s inefficient and frankly, way too dangerous.”

“So what’s the best way?” Umji seemed fascinated by the new information. Yerin smirked.

“A sniper. No one’s sensing that from half a mile away. Bam, and you have a dead mage.”

Eunha raised an eyebrow at Yerin, a small smile creeping onto her face as she realized what the assassin was going for. Yerin winked back. SinB looked confused, while Umji looked thoughtful.

“It’s a little late for you to train for the kind of reflexes you’ll need for close combat, to be honest.” Yerin stated matter-of-factly. “We can try, but it’ll take a long time.” Umji’s face fell a little at that.

“ However, you’ve already got pretty good aim, plus most top of the line sniper rifles these days come fitted with SmartLink.” Yerin grinned, shark-like.

“Automatic targeting and wind drop calculation.” Umji reeled off what she remembered of the SmartLink extensions for firearms. It allowed average gunmen with the corresponding implant to link directly to their guns, making up for lack of skill with the technological assist.

“We’ve got a pretty good team going, but we are missing a sniper.” Yerin nudged lightly. Umji’s eyes widened, as did SinB’s.

“Oh, smart. Sowon won’t mind if she’s out of the line of fire.” SinB clapped delightedly. Yerin smirked smugly.

“I try.”

“I won’t even need the control system…” Umji muttered to herself. “I can interface directly with the SmartLink...”

“Precisely.” Yerin seemed rather proud of herself. She looked at the rest.

“Why didn’t any of you think of that before?”

SinB and Eunha exchanged a look. Eunha smiled a little sheepishly.

“Well...habit?” They had gotten too used to thinking of Umji as a non-combatant, even with her skill at technology in general. Sowon might have started it, but SinB and Eunha had just gone along with it, never asking Umji herself if she liked being left behind all the time.

Umji turned and hugged Yerin fiercely. “Thank you!”

Yerin patted her on the head. “No problem, kid.” She looked at the group.

“Now who’s going to tell Sowon about this?”

“Tell me what?” Sowon stepped into the sitting room, eyeing the group of four suspiciously. SinB put on her most innocent face, but Sowon didn’t seem convinced. Eunha held up her hands defensively.

“Don't look at me, it wasn't my idea."

"Cowards." Yerin scoffed. She turned to look directly at Sowon.

"Your baby girl wants to join us in the field, dear leader.”

“Absolutely not.” Sowon frowned. Yerin held up a finger.

“Let me finish, will ya.” Yerin drawled. “Umji’s always been long range support anyway, why didn’t you expand on that role and let her support us with a sniper rifle? SmartLink makes up for a thousand flaws anyway.”

Sowon turned instinctively to look at Eunha, who shook her head quickly. Just because she had the memories of her past life as a trained sniper didn’t mean she came up with the idea. Umji looked hopefully up at Sowon, who massaged the bridge of her nose wearily. It was a good idea, all things considered, and Sowon knew that Umji had been moping ever since their fight with the imugi. The hacker blamed herself for not being able to be of more help to the rest, and if this gave her a bit more self confidence, it probably wouldn’t hurt.

“Who’s going to train her? Sniping isn’t just about shooting straight.” Sowon eyed Yerin, who shrugged.

“Don’t look at me, I never specialized in that.” Sowon then turned to Eunha, to the surprise of the rest.

“How much do you remember from before?”

Eunha winced, partially from the confused looks the rest were directing at her. It wasn’t like they had ever really talked about what reallyhappened when Eunha had gotten zapped by the dragon orb. Most of the rest didn’t realize that Eunha had travelled a much longer way than anyone had expected while unconscious, and it frankly wasn’t something she wanted to discuss.

“Mostly theory, it’s not like I got to practice any of it as I am now.” Eunha replied guardedly, glaring at Sowon. SinB frowned in confusion.

“How would you know anything about that anyway?”

Eunha sighed. “I’ll tell you later.” She turned back to Sowon with her lips pursed.

“I can teach her the basics, but it won’t be the same.”

Sowon nodded. “I understand. You’re the only one with that skillset I trust.”

“Yuna was always better than me though…” Eunha closed her eyes. Sowon sighed.

“Yuna’s dead and well, you know.” Yuju wasn’t the same person in this lifetime.

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” SinB exclaimed, exasperated. Yerin put up a hand. “Me too, I’m confused.” Umji cocked her head in silent query as well.

“Maybe later.” Eunha and Sowon chorused, then exchanged wry glances. Some things just never changed. Eunha stood up, pulling Umji with her.

“Shall we get started then?”

In fevered dreams she slept on, whispers of scrabbling feet and hissing murmurs chasing her, leading her ever further into a formless darkness.

Distant mirages of familiar places echo in fragmented shards, taunting her as she tried to grasp onto them, only to disappear on contact. She knew it was all a dream, but she could not stop herself from chasing illusions, for within those illusions, shreds of the truth lay hidden.

Truth, and pain. Though she walked a path of knives, leaving behind bloody steps, she forged forward, seeking resolution. Seeking peace.

Are you afraid?

A voice tinkling like bells, almost child-like in tone and cadence, calling out to her from the swirling shadows. She slowed, then stopped in her steps, red falling off her like sweat from a thousand cuts.

“Who are you?” One should never speak to ghosts, for fear of giving them shape and form. Name them, and they become real. But this was her dream, and dreams can’t really hurt you.

Or can they?

Unnie, don’t you remember?

It sounded closer now, the pitter-patter of little feet skipping around, chanting nonsensical rhymes to some children’s game. The ever present whispering grew more intense, a mix of voices garbled together in an unintelligible mess, and she clapped her hands over her ears, falling to her knees while trying to block them out.

A small hand touched her face, cold and almost intangible, smoothing away the bloody streaks running down her face in an approximation of tears. She raises her head, the ghost of comfort lingering on her cheeks, suffering still. Suffering always, even if she could not remember how or why.

A little girl stood before her, oddly familiar in face and eye, looking at her quizzically. Pale, but no longer insubstantial. No more a ghost than she was in this dream world, though appearing fragile enough to be blown away by a stiff breeze.

“I know you.” She finds herself speaking, though she has no memory of forming the words. It was at the tip of her tongue, so close she could almost taste it, a name for the little girl standing before her. Yet try as she might, she couldn’t quite grasp it, as if she were trying to scoop the moon out of a lake.

A tinkling laugh, small hands wrapping around one of her own, tugging at her insistently. She stands, slightly bowed over to accommodate the little girl, following with bemused steps as the landscape around them shifted, becoming more solid as they went.

They stop in front of a mirror, one tall and one small, and she stares at the asymmetrical figures, an odd feeling crawling in the pit of her stomach. It felt so familiar somehow, as if this has happened before. An endless hallway of mirrors, and them trapped within, reflected into infinity.

“Who are you?” And why am I here, she does not ask. Her grip on the little girl’s hand tightens, almost painfully, as if the answer lay within.

The grip breaks, the hand fading into insubstantiality, dissolving like smoke in the wind. She reaches out, trying to catch the fading illusion, only to find herself touching the cold surface of the mirrored wall before her. The little girl lay behind that wall now, smiling. Their palms, one large and one small, flat against the mirror that separated them, an eerie echo of each other.

I am you, and you are me.

The girl whispers, though her lips don’t move. A low moan rises from her own lips, as pain lances through her head, sending her back down to her knees. Her hand on the wall slides down with her, and she rests her forehead against the glass, letting the cool surface ease the throbbing agony within.

Flashes of broken images zip past her closed eyelids; one moment, alarms shrieking. A sudden explosion of white light, muttered voices raised in panic. Cut forward, and the sound of chains shattering, a dark cloud surging forward and…

Her own voice, screaming. Fists, hammering against something hard and unyielding. Pounding and pounding, until the cracks splintered into a spiderweb, driving shards into hands as small as the one she held earlier.

And within that spiderweb, darkness swirling into form, strangling everything she ever cared for.

Won’t you remember me?

She gasps, raising her head, and stares straight into a shattered mirror, blood streaking the broken glass. Her hand was bleeding where she had driven her fist into it, and it hung limply by her side, dripping red onto the patterned tile of the bathroom.

She should have been in bed. Why was she here?

Yuju raises her broken hand mutely, seeing the web of scars underneath the fresh cuts. Her healing never left scars, unless she wanted to leave them. Her eyes were red and bloodshot through and through, fractured within the broken mirror. The cuts closed silently as she looked down, one arm propping herself up against the sink.

It was night. She felt that clearly, felt the moon hanging heavy in the sky above, though she could not see it. She should have been sleeping, remembered getting into bed, Yerin crawling in after her with a goodnight kiss as always, warm arms wrapping around her to keep her safe.

She had been sleeping most of the day. Her body was tired, though her mind usually remained alert. It was fogged now, her thoughts muddled and confused. She ran the tap, watching the blood wash off her hand, picking the broken glass out of newly repaired skin, soft and pink and fresh. What was she going to do about the mirror though? She couldn’t fix that.

The sound should have woken Yerin. Why wasn’t she here? Yuju felt distant, distracted, as if her thoughts were moving glacially a mile underwater from the surface, grasping at whatever was nearest as she struggled to breathe. But she didn’t want Yerin to see this.

She didn’t feel quite like herself. Her body was heavy, as if her limbs were filled with lead, and were these even the same clothes she went to bed in? She couldn’t remember. Vague thoughts of flying flashed across her mind, whimsical flights of fancy she dismissed as impossible.

She was clean now, and she still couldn’t think of how to explain the mirror. Yuju bent and splashed water on her face, trying to regain clarity as she rubbed at her cheeks. Everything seemed so close yet so far away at the same time, and all she wanted to do was get back in bed and hide under the blankets again. She would worry about the mirror in the morning.

As if in a dream, she found herself by the bed again, the blankets rumpled from where Yerin was sprawled messily in her bed. The sight warmed her heart, ever so slightly, and she crawled back under the covers, spooning the older girl comfortably, breathing in her familiar scent.

Yerin barely moved despite the disturbance, which should have been odd considering how light a sleeper she could be. Yuju was relieved though. She didn’t want to explain getting out of bed, especially when she didn’t remember doing it. The shaman closed her eyes, willing sleep to come. She would deal with things in the morning.

Until then, everything else could wait.

It was too early for hypothermia to set in for fall. Perhaps a few homeless with inadequate shelter and clothing might suffer minor symptoms this early, but the Underground was warmer than the surface for the most part. Anyone displaced could reasonably find shelter there, even with the gangs staking out territory in the best parts.

It didn’t explain the increased numbers of people admitted to wellness shelters run by rich philanthropists, suffering from minor hypothermic shock overnight and wandering close to said shelters, only to be found in the morning. The cold snap had arrived earlier this season, to be certain, but it was still unusual to say the least.

Most of them were incoherent and had no recollection of how they had gotten there, even after emergency measures had been taken to treat them. Some few kept muttering about spiders during their recovery period, but could not remember a thing besides that.

Jung Yerin was out on her usual walk, just to keep her ear to the ground on things happening in the city. She swung in and out of cafes and bars, places where people congregated above and below ground, watching and listening for the latest news and rumours. Umji could aggregate news faster through the Matrix, but it was no substitute for word of mouth from actual people.

Whispers of conflict started among those most likely to suffer the ill effects. It was the survival instinct of those destined to be cannon fodder, or collateral damage. Rats always knew where and when to scatter, leaving only those too slow to run to face the consequences. Yerin liked listening for those, liked knowing her escape routes and threat factors.

It was early in the afternoon, and Yuju could be accompanied by Eunha for a while, if she wasn’t sleeping again. The shaman had only grown more vague as the days went by, which was worrying. It wasn’t like Yuju didn’t have moments of clarity, but too often she would be off wandering in the astral realm, and it was far easier to let Eunha chase her down there.

Yerin couldn’t quite shake the feeling that Yuju wasn’t telling her something, and the shaman had been extraordinarily skittish after that one day in the bathroom, seeming more confused than usual that the bathroom was in pristine condition (which it should be?). She had grown more silent after that, and no amount of coaxing by either Yerin or Eunha could get her to talk about it.

Yerin did run a thorough check on the bathroom in question after Yuju’s minor breakdown though. She had a nagging feeling something about it had distressed her puppy, and surely there had to be clues if that were the case. There was nothing particularly out of the ordinary about it. It was a bathroom. How special did you want it to be?

But her patience paid off. It wasn’t even an obvious thing, just a minor blot between the tiles, appearing like dirt caked inside the gap. Yerin hadn’t even been sure why she knelt to check it in the first place, using the tip of her pocket knife to scrape it out. It was the rusty brown of old blood, and a quick sniff didn’t displace her suspicions. A quick material analysis confirmed it as blood, dried and caked, but blood nevertheless.

Why had there been blood in the bathroom? The obvious explanation could be that there were six women living here, and even though this bathroom was attached to Yuju’s room and thus narrowing it down to use by only two, the monthly cycle could justify the accidental spilling of a drop or two of old blood to be left caked into the tile.

But that wasn’t convincing to Yerin. She cleaned the place almost religiously every week, and the last time their periods had occurred was almost two weeks ago. She wouldn’t have left any dirt behind during her last cleaning cycle, and that had been three days prior.

So there had been blood in those intervening days, but where could it have come from? Yuju’s reaction was very telling, but Yerin didn’t want to push her for details. It was obvious that Yuju was upset by something, but forcing her to talk about it before she was ready would do no good.

She didn’t want to suspect her puppy of anything, but here she was anyway, looking for clues out in the wild, keeping her finger on the pulse of the city. If something was wrong, she wanted to be the first to know. Hoping for the best and being prepared for the worst never posed a conflict within her mind. Yuju might have the presence of mind to not hurt her or any of the others close to them, but that same consideration may or may not extend to strangers. Yerin needed to know if there were any telltale clues betraying the presence of an active blood mage in the area, because she knew she wouldn’t be the only one watching the signs.

She remembered her old calling, hunting down rogue mages. There were always signs of those practicing forbidden magic, and she knew exactly what to look for. Things often got messy, but it was what her employers demanded. This was their home ground now, and Yerin trod cautiously, careful to not run into her old brethren.

She never wanted to come back to Incheon, but they had all been wounded and Sowon had called the shots on the move. Still, it has been three years. She had been careful all this time, and Ansan wasn’t even that far from Incheon to begin with. If she could dodge them there, she could dodge them here. If they were even looking for her, after all this time.

It paid to be careful though, and even if her features were obscured to any watching bystanders, Yerin still put on makeup to alter how her real features looked -- at least she never had problems seeing her own face. Keeping to the dead angles of cameras was second nature by now, but it was good to have a second layer of defense, however minor.

The cold snap chilled her to the bone, though she was wrapped up warmly for the weather. Passing by a cafe, Yerin decided to take a detour, slipping in quietly to a semi-electronic jingle approximating the sound of windchimes. She could use a coffee, and the cookies on display looked good. Yuju might appreciate a treat, and she supposed she could buy more for the rest too.

Yerin was still undecided over what to get when the chimes sounded again, a sign of another person entering the store. They halted next to her, also looking at the display, and Yerin took a glance out of habit, only to freeze internally.

What were the odds of running into someone she knew? Higher than expected, apparently. He couldn’t see her face yet, and she had time to leave before he noticed. Yerin breathed slowly, trying to force herself not to make any sudden moves that would catch his attention. Of all the people to run into, this was the last one she wanted to encounter. Other hunters she could evade since they could only look for her via old images and descriptions, but this man...this man knew her well enough to recognize her without even looking at her face.

If he was even looking for her. Yerin shifted slowly, not wanting to draw attention as she drifted to the counter to pay for her coffee. She didn’t even get the cookies she wanted, more occupied with trying to leave.

A sudden hand landed on her shoulder, making her tense. A warm voice, deep and familiar, spoke up.

“Put our bills together, I’m paying.”

Yerin closed her eyes in silent despair. He had noticed her after all. There were too many witnesses for her to try and break loose, and she didn’t want to cause too much of a fuss right away. He was alone, so he wasn’t here to catch her, not really. She could hope. She could beat him in a fight, and he knew that too. If he was here to bring her back, he wouldn’t be alone.

She had a chance, and she wasn’t going to waste it. She let him guide her deeper into the seated areas of the store, sliding into a private booth where they had some modicum of privacy. They faced each other for the first time in three years, and Yerin smiled weakly, clutching her coffee tightly with both hands.

“Hello, hyung. ”