Being sent to hunt down your own girlfriend was a new experience, Yerin decided.

Granted, the mission parameters weren’t that specific in terms of the target. They had a general description of what the target was capable of, as well as the areas where said target was last known to be active, but fortunately, no one actually had a solid description or a clear picture of the target.

There was only a blurry haze on the footage retrieved from the dead units, as if the target had deliberately obscured themselves with a solid illusion on top of nearly melting most of the recording devices on the mercenaries. But Yerin knew Yuju very well, and even a faded outline was enough for her to identify her beloved. 

Of course, the descriptions of what the mark was capable of only confirmed her suspicions. The higher ups had labelled the target as a suspected blood mage, but Yerin knew enough to erase the ‘suspected’ mentally, though she said nothing during the briefing.

She had an inkling, of course, when it came out months before that Yuju was slipping out into the city at night. Even if Yuju herself appeared to have no memory of it, it didn’t take much for Yerin to put two and two together. 

Pattern recognition was a thing, and the string of people falling victim to some inexplicable condition coincided with Yuju’s night wanderings. Yerin suspected the two might be linked, but she didn’t want to burden Yuju with that knowledge, and to be honest, it had entirely slipped her mind until now. 

For her peace of mind, she had warned Yuju to stay out of sight in case anyone else started growing suspicious of what was happening in the city. Even if Yuju wasn’t fully conscious of what she was doing, her alter-ego appeared to be discreet enough, so she was willing to close one eye and let things slide. As long as there was no harm to Yuju, what did it matter if there were other victims? It wasn’t like anyone was dying either.

And yet, despite her warnings, Yuju had come out of hiding and started flexing her capabilities, and Yerin had a sinking feeling that it was at least partially tied to her. The massacre at the docks was not all that far away from her when she had been out that day, and she had wondered why the pressure on her had eased suddenly, as if the enemy had been drawn away by something else.

Obviously Yuju had been worried for her safety, and had taken steps. Yerin couldn’t blame her, really. Had she been put in the same position, she could hardly have stopped herself from trying to protect what was important to her. It wasn’t just a matter of trusting the other to be able to take care of themselves. When you love someone that much, it was impossible to stand aside. 

But now Tristar was actively trying to hunt her puppy down, even if they had no idea what exactly they were up against at the moment. And if Yerin had anything to do about it, they wouldn’t even get anywhere close. My turn to protect you now.

Then again, she couldn’t come back entirely empty-handed, if she wanted to continue to be trusted and valued as an asset. Yerin had not forgotten what she had come back to Tristar for, and earning the access she needed meant she needed to produce results worthy of being allowed into otherwise closed circles. 

That meant a lot more innocent people getting swept up in their net, though ‘innocence’ was a relative term. There were always persons of interest in the shadows, minding their own business and staying off the radar of the megacorps, but for some of those, the price of power was paid in blood. None of them were clean, and Yerin had no guilt when it came to unearthing and flushing them out. 

Not that it would have mattered even if they were innocent. Yerin knew exactly what she was doing when she handed them over. The only person who mattered was Yuju. Everyone else was cannon fodder, unworthy of notice.

Yerin had the nose of a bloodhound when it came to people like this, which was why Tristar had handed her the mission to begin with. This was her main task back in the day, and it wasn’t without irony that she had thrown herself back into the fray, as one of the deadliest mage-hunters in the business.

Her niggling worry for Yuju hadn’t faded since the day her puppy had gone silent and unreachable. Yerin desperately wanted to go to her, knowing that the Bond between them would guide her unerringly as long as she followed her instincts. But she was still being watched, and Yerin would never knowingly put Yuju in danger like this. It was enough to know that Yuju still lived, though the silence was terrifying. Something was terribly wrong, and Yerin had no idea what it could be. She could only hope the others would protect Yuju until she could come home.

If nothing else, Eunha would do her best to protect the shaman. Yerin grinned bitterly to herself, knowing how exactly she had taken advantage of the fire mage’s feelings to leverage her as an asset to protect Yuju in her absence. It was selfishly ruthless, but Yerin regretted nothing. She would make use of every advantage she had to achieve whatever she wanted. In that respect, she was exactly what Tristar had raised her to be: a spy and a counterintelligence asset meant to wreak maximum havoc with minimal resources. 

At least her efforts were not for nothing. Even though the primary target was still at large, her superiors could hardly blame her for that, given how little information they had handed her to work with. Yerin quietly covered up any existent traces the others had missed, making sure no one could positively link Yuju to the target they were sent to track. Umji had also done an excellent job in cleaning the digital traces, to her relief. That was one area she wasn’t quite as good at, though she wasn’t completely unversed in that area, just nowhere near as effective.

Her ruthless efficiency terrified the local Awakened community into subdued obedience, and while there were grumblings from the runner community, most folk didn’t mind the cleansing all that much. The more questionable elements had been picked off the street, and even if some people had business dealings with them, no one really trusted people who trafficked in dark magics. You never know if you could be the next target, after all.

Yerin didn’t know for sure what Research wanted with those people, but she figured providing them new material would please them regardless. She was correct.

With the majority of their manpower sweeping the streets, Yerin was rapidly pulled off grunt duty after proving that she was worth a lot more than just hunting small fry. Granted, getting upgraded to supervising the Epsilon kids wasn’t really that much of a promotion in Yerin’s eyes, but she put them to work anyway, organizing them in the way she had been taught with military efficiency. Put her in a battle unit, and she could easily serve as a platoon commander or higher, thanks to the training she received from the Spartans. She was in her element, and she knew it.

It was unnerving how easily she assimilated into the environment, and it was more than just her chameleon nature coming to the fore to maintain the disguise. It was a highly uncomfortable moment for Yerin when she realized just how much she was enjoying herself in her new role. She still resented Tristar and missed Yuju terribly all the time, but training and organizing the kids felt good and right, as if this were where she was meant to be. As if she were home, and that unnerved her more than a little. 

She had not been joking with Yuju when she said that her upbringing with Tristar left her with more than a few residual hooks in her psyche, ready to draw her back in the moment she let her guard down. She was vulnerable here, because despite everything she had learned on the outside, this was still where she began. Yerin was a lot more sentimental than she let on sometimes, and in this particular case, she really hated it.

Still, her performance was duly noted, and she was soon assigned to more sensitive tasks. This was what she had been waiting for, though she kept her head down early on, not wanting to draw suspicion to herself, even as she got a better sense of the restricted areas she was allowed into. It wasn’t all the place had to offer, and Yerin knew it, so she didn’t hurry. Learning the ground and mapping everything in her head, down to guard routines and camera locations, that was her way. It wouldn’t do to show her hand too early before she was ready to run off with all the relevant info. 

And she had to plan her escape too, assuming she could find information relevant to Yuju’s condition. Yerin palmed the datachip she had gotten from Umji before everything had gone south, remembering her promise to the hacker. Access to Blackstar records.  

There was no way Yerin was going to be able to filter through everything quickly enough to take only what she needed. She wasn’t Umji. Since she didn’t know what to steal, she would just take the easy way out and filch everything. It was crazy and ambitious, but Yerin figured she might as well aim big and go home right after. 

The collar they put on her was going to be a problem, but Yerin had faith that Umji could disable it for her… if she could make it out without dying or getting caught. Copying the database once she located the node would take hours, if not days, depending on the size of the thing, and she surely wasn’t going to be there for the whole event. The risk of getting discovered was too high, though slipping in and out to retrieve the chip was no less risky. 

It was a huge gamble she was taking, but the whole venture was the biggest gamble in her life to begin with. She could have fought them instead of going back at the time, and the others might even have backed her up, but she had chosen to slip back into enemy hands because it was what she knew best. No matter how capable Sowon and the crew were, going up against a whole megacorp on their own was still suicide, and this time they wouldn’t have Spartan backing like they did against Mireu. Yerin had weighed the odds, and taken that risk. 

She might not be able to dismantle Tristar on her own -- they were too massive for that -- but she could make use of their resources and steal what she needed. With luck, she might even be able to hurt them a little. She had also taken steps to safeguard herself, and for all that Yuju had protested that the Bond was an unfair exchange for Yerin, the assassin knew that it was she who benefited most from it. 

Yes, Yuju could draw energy from her unilaterally, and judging from what happened the other day, the shaman did in fact have to do that, and likely as a desperate move. Yerin knew her puppy, and Yuju would never have drawn from her unless she had no other choice. The cause for it was worrying, but Yerin was glad that she had taken that step back then. She didn’t know what had forced Yuju’s hand in making that move, but if it had helped, then it was worth it.

And Yuju safeguarded her heart. That was the main point. Even if Tristar brainwashed her all over again and turned her against her friends, she would be unable to harm Yuju at all, which was the whole point. 

Yerin still remembered holding Joy’s body in her arms, the bloody knife in her guilty hands. Never again. She couldn’t bear losing control and murdering someone else close to her heart. It would be one step too far.

Closing her eyes, Yerin pushed away the bloody memories and focused on the mission at hand. An important shipment had been waylaid by a local gang, though whether that was a deliberate raid ordered by their rivals or a random robbery, no one was sure. Her task was to retrieve the shipment and it to its intended destination, and preferably erase anyone else who had come into contact with it.

Standard operating procedure. Yerin opened her eyes and gave curt orders to her new team. The sooner she could get this over and done with, the faster she could initiate her own plans.

She had been far too long away from Yuju. She didn’t want to wait any longer.

Hang on, puppy. I’m coming home soon.

“Eunha, that’s crazy! If something goes wrong…”

“It’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing. And if not me, who else can do this?” Who else can I trust?

The two childhood friends stared each other down, SinB with her hands on her hips and a tense frown wrinkling her nose, while Eunha looked calmly determined, fingers tapping on the back of a nearby chair. 

“You don’t have to do it, you know. It’s just a freakin coma, why would you need to risk yourself to try and force her to wake up like this? It’s completely unnecessary.”

Unconvinced, SinB tried pushing back from another angle. Eunha’s plan, in her eyes, seemed to be a massive overreaction. Yuju might be unconscious, but she was healing fine, and more importantly, her remaining unconscious meant she was actually safe and unthreatening for once. That mattered a lot to SinB, and she was in no hurry for the shaman to wake up if that meant an unstable and possibly dangerous Yuju would once again be active. 

It was probably a little unfair to the girl, but even if SinB could accept that Yuju had enough self control not to hurt them, it was still a lot more of a relief to see her neutralized as a threat in current state. 

Sowon agreed with the reasoning, but she stayed out of sight and mind while the two best friends argued. Dr Lee had patched her back up quickly enough, and now the eyepatch over her left eye was more out of necessity than for mere cosmetic effect. The good doctor had definitely taken the chance to advertise her services in cultivating a new eyeball for her, grown from her own cells, but Sowon had declined the offer for now. She wasn’t sure she could actually afford the procedure at the rate they were splashing money on various avenues. In any case, they had more important things to worry about right now.

Such as Eunha’s sudden determination to initiate a soul link with the unconscious Yuju to bring her out of her coma. Sowon thought the mage was overreacting a little, but then again, none of them had the same magical senses she had, so they could only take her on her word that something was unnatural about Yuju’s coma. 

On the off chance that Eunha was right though, Sowon once again felt the creeping guilt rise within her. Striking Yuju down had consequences in more ways than one, and the physical injuries were clearly the least of their problems. 

“She’s sunk too deep in herself, SinB. I can barely feel her, and it’s nothing like the time after the imugi...she was falling apart then, but still present at least.” Eunha shuddered at the memory, wrapping her arms around herself. 

“I can’t lose her...please understand, SinB. I have to do this for my own peace of mind.”

SinB grunted, glancing over at the bed where Yuju still lay in calm repose. Unconscious, and still a pain in the . The gunslinger sighed deeply, knowing that Eunha wasn’t going to change her mind, and someone was going to have to watch her back during the whole process anyway.

“Why am I your best friend again?” SinB complained out loud, and Eunha chuckled with some relief, hugging the slightly taller girl.

“I knew I could count on you, you big softie.”

“Oi! Don’t push it, tiny!”

There was a pained yelp after that, and SinB slammed the door behind her, patting the singed hem of her shirt with a grumpy expression. Sowon stood up to greet her, and SinB shook her head.

“We’ll have to find a more secure location than this. Dr Lee’s really nice, but I want a place we can seal off properly so Eunha can get things done in peace.”

“I can think of a couple of places,” Sowon said quietly, looking at the closed door of the room. “If Eunha is willing to trust me on this, that is…”

“We don’t have to tell her it was your idea.” SinB shrugged, shoving her hands in her pockets. “I did tell her we needed to prepare first, and I’m still kinda surprised she didn’t fight me on that. Guess she needs to get a few things first.”

“I’ll head out first, and send you the coordinates later. I’ll stick close enough to watch your backs when you make the move.” Sowon grunted, rolling her shoulders to loosen them.

“Are you sure you’re okay to be out and about already?” SinB sounded concerned, glancing at the taller woman’s eyepatch. Sowon sighed.

“I’ll manage. Good thing I’m used to fighting with one eye most of the time anyway.”

SinB eyed her dubiously, but let it drop. Sowon ruffled her hair fondly.

“I’ll see you around then.”

SinB scowled, but her tone was soft when she replied.

“Stay safe out there.”

Sowon nodded and left. SinB huffed quietly and turned to see the door partially open. No guesses on who opened it.

At least she didn’t pick a fight with Sowon right away? SinB stepped back into the room a little nervously, but Eunha didn’t seem visibly upset. That was either encouraging, or incredibly worrying. SinB wasn’t sure which at this point.

“We don’t have to go along with her plan if you don’t want to.” SinB ventured tentatively, but Eunha only shook her head.

“It’s okay, I know you need backup. Just...keep her out of my way for now.”

Eunha’s voice was even, but SinB could read the underlying tension in it. Eunha was trying, for her sake. The gunslinger’s face softened. Her best friend really did care about her feelings too.

“I won’t let anyone interrupt your ritual for sure. Not even her.” SinB promised. Eunha nodded, and after a hesitant pause, asked.

“What happened to her eye anyway?”

SinB snorted. “Don’t get me started. That idiot ripped it out to make a point. I’ve never seen anything that dumb in my life.”

Eunha listened quietly as SinB went into an agitated tirade about Sowon’s confrontation with Bogeun, blinking in surprise when she heard the details. She had known Bogeun back in the day, and would never have expected the man to have stooped that low in his quest for vengeance. She said as much out loud, and then it was SinB’s turn to blink.

“Oh right, past life. You knew him too?”

“Only as Yewon’s brother. Not like we were close.” Eunha paused, thinking further about the case. 

“Wait, are they still working together though? Tristar and the Spartans I mean.”

“I don’t know,” SinB admitted glumly. “I certainly hope not. We don’t need them creating more magically powered supersoldiers any time soon. Yerin isn’t even considered a success and she can kill me six times over if she really tried.” 

This was not an exaggeration. SinB knew that while she could hold her own in the practice ring against Yerin, a fight in the ring with limits imposed wasn’t the same as being in the field. SinB had seen Yerin in action before, and never wanted to get on her bad side after that. You just didn’t offend someone who could find multiple ways to get you killed before you even realized they were there. 

Eunha frowned at the reminder. She had not expected Yerin to have been involved in the experiments, but it would explain why the girl ended up going back to Tristar. The megacorp would have installed safeguards in their own merchandise, even if Yerin did manage to buck the reins once before.

But regardless of whether it was willing or not, Yerin was no longer here with them, and that was the reality. Eunha glanced back down at Yuju, still lost within herself, and quietly made her decision. 

No matter what held the girl within herself, she would dive in and fight any demon in her way to free her. Only she could do this, only she had the power to do this, and no one was going to stop her.

Wait for me, Yuju. I won’t let you be alone anymore.

Deep within herself, Yuju was dreaming once more of days long past, the scent of wood and soil fresh in her nostrils, almost as real as the fur rough against her hands.

She was back in the forest again, wandering lost forgotten paths in the days that seemed to meld together, her only companions the wild wolves that submitted to her as if she were one of their own. One more mystery she had never unravelled, but it was something she had always accepted as fact. Canines had always been her friends, it was a certainty she held, deep within her bones.

The forest was both familiar and distant to her. Yuju could not have told you for how long she had been there, only that it was not a short time, and she had outgrown whatever rags she had originally been wearing by the time Yerin barged into her life. Necessity taught her how to adjust her core temperature to deal with the cold of winter, but apart from vague impressions, she remembered little of her time in the wild.

Remember. Could she trace her steps back to where she came from? Yuju wasn’t sure, but she knew she had run out from a place, a place where everyone else had died. She remembered the explosions, white and hot in the blank spaces of her memory, remembered the stumbling steps and blood smearing her face and hands. 

But she couldn’t tell you for sure what happened. There was death, and loss. A wrenching pain in the missing gaps, where she was wounded right down to the soul. 

I wanted to forget, didn’t I? Everyone died, I couldn’t save anyone.

But did you want to save them?

A different voice, a foreign voice, resounding within the depths of her soul. Yuju halted in her steps, withered leaves crunching into brittle ash beneath her. The trees suddenly appeared gnarled and menacing, as if the forest itself was twisting around her.

This was not the forest she had spent years in. She was not alone, but she never was, was she?

Crumbling undergrowth was suddenly replaced with cold tile, and Yuju reeled internally at the shift, even though she knew she had not moved. She could not. This was her own mind. Everything here was hers, or should be. 

She knew this place. Flickering lights above, cold plasti-steel and concrete all around. The smell of scrubbed disinfectant heavy in the air, and a little girl staring at her with wide, dark eyes, crouched in a cell.

It was a very small cell. Yuju wasn’t sure she could fit in as she was now, standing at her full height. But it was big enough for the little girl. Blankets, crayons, and scribbled doodles on one wall. It was tiny, impossibly so, but it was also the whole world for that one little girl. 

A red shadow crept up beside Yuju, long and vivid, like a living thing struggling to materialize from formless goo. The same, indistinct voice, cold and somehow less human, a sibilant hiss in the dark to her waiting ears.

Look at her. Don’t you remember?

And suddenly Yuju was in the cell again, staring out at herself but it was not, with all the tall figures milling outside, busy with their tasks. Cold eyes. Kind eyes. She had known both, staring out from the cage she once lived in. 

A throbbing pain seized at her temples, and Yuju clutched at her head, conflicting memories warring within her. She remembered running around outside...didn’t she? Stealing from the pantry, hiding in the laundry chute and giggling like a normal child with…

With who? And why were they hiding? The cell and the little girl blurred away, shimmering into nothingness like a mirage in a desert. She was small again, hiding inside the chute, one hand over to keep from making any sound.

And she was not alone. An equally small hand, holding hers, lively eyes sparkling in the dark, already planning the next mischief. Shh, a finger held to tiny lips. Don’t let them find us.

It was a game, she remembered now. The girl, her first friend, with clever hands and smiling eyes, finding her in the dark of the night.

I was bored, so I picked the lock. Do you wanna come play too?

How could she have forgotten? Can’t hold me down. The bright excitement in rebellious eyes, her own shy response, small hands joined in the cold dark corridors as they ran wild for that night.

And more than one night. She had to go back before it was morning, she remembered now, the two little girls knowing that they would be missed if they were not where they were supposed to be in the day. 

I’ll come see you again tomorrow. How could she have forgotten that? Unbidden, tears ran down adult Yuju’s face, an overwhelming sense of loss overcoming her in that moment. 

Those eyes… She knew those eyes. Remembered, suddenly and vividly, the scars crisscrossing the exposed skin of her arms. You too. They hurt you too.

But the other girl was always smiling at her. Your eyes are so pretty. Have you ever been outside? She remembered shaking her head back then. She had never been outside. The lab was her whole world. She had grown up around numbers and magic circles, drawing ritual patterns in crayon on the walls based on what she saw. It was all she ever knew.

Their acquaintance hadn’t lasted long. A few days at most, and then one day, the other girl never came back. Yuju was used to seeing people leave. She was the only one who stayed, who lasted this long. No one else made it that far. Only her.

The last time she had seen the other girl, they climbed out of the roof, the moon hanging low and full just above their heads, so close as if they could just touch it if they reached out. On one side, the city, and on the other, the wastelands. The girl had taken her hand, pointing at the city and saying.

One day, I’ll be free. They can’t hold me forever.

It was the first time Yuju had seen the outside. Felt the acrid air chafe her skin, the distant stink of the city vaguely repulsive to her nose, so used to the sterile environment of the lab. In contrast, the wild forest and untamed nature of the other side called more to her, foreign as it was, and she stared mutely into the distance, entranced.

The other girl seemed to sense her mood, latching onto her in a display of affection that made little Yuju a little uncomfortable. I’ll find you again. Tomorrow’s the last, they say. But I don’t know if I can make it back.

This close, she could sense the underlying fear from the other girl. She wasn’t surprised. A lot of people went in, but not everyone came back out. Her friend might not make it. A pang of fear, for her. She didn’t want to lose her friend.

Why don’t you run now? She remembered asking, only to be answered by a bitter chuckle.

Run where? There’s nothing out there for me. I’m too weak.

There wasn’t much she could say after that. When little Yuju started coughing thanks to the polluted air, the other girl had dragged her back in, and they parted ways reluctantly just before dawn. They were so small back then, but that hand in hers still warmed her heart. 

Serious eyes, so unlike that of a child, the ever present smile missing from it for once as they locked gazes. Lips brushed against her cheek as the other girl leaned in, hugging her close. 

If I survive, I’ll see you again someday.

Don’t die. Their eyes met, the same message in both.

That was the last time she saw that girl there. Or did she? Yuju found herself standing in nothingness against, that long forgotten memory fading back to where it came, though the sense of loss remained. And those bright eyes, bent in a smile unlike any she had seen before.

The world shook all around her, breaking her out of her reverie. Startled, Yuju lost track of her thoughts, looking around as cracks started appearing all around her. The red shadow from before slithered up to her in an instant, coalescing into a mirror image of herself right before her eyes, annoyance vivid in its crimson pupils. It reached forward, touching her between the eyes.

It seems we have a guest. Sleep now, sister. We’ll walk down memory lane together later.

Yuju’s lips parted soundlessly, but then a great weariness came over her, as if on cue. Sleep, it said. Everything will be fine.

But would it really?

The preparations had gone smoothly enough, and moving Yuju went better than they imagined. The worst of her wounds had already healed, less than two weeks from the shooting, which was unnatural at best, but where magic was involved, it could even be considered normal.

Eunha had been busy getting things ready. Ritual magic was not her strongest point, but it wasn’t too difficult to find reliable guides from other practitioners if you knew where to look. A lot of it was guesswork mixed with practical experience, and Eunha knew that the only reason for the ritual circle was to prevent any external interference that SinB couldn’t block. It wouldn’t do to have hostile spirits interrupt her while she was busy. 

There was never a formal truce discussed between her and Sowon, but Eunha allowed the woman to find a secure location, the first step of her apology. The mage had more important things to worry about, and as long as Sowon didn’t try to repeat any hostile moves, she was willing to let it slide.

SinB was outside now, guarding the only entrance to the room they found. Eunha knew Sowon would also be there, but she trusted SinB to make sure no one would interrupt. Yuju was laid out in the middle of a drawn circle, the smell of incense heavy in the air. The circle would keep things out, and just in case, Eunha had also made sure it would keep things in. She hadn’t forgotten the spirit that had taken control of Yuju that time. 

It was her main goal this time, to confront the spirit within Yuju properly, without it being able to escape or take control of Yuju to do anything else. It was a little surprising that it hadn’t already done so, actually. Considering that the spirit had been able to take control before, an unconscious Yuju should theoretically be a perfect vessel for it to take over and do as it pleased.

Clearly, the spirit had other motives, and Eunha was going to find out exactly what. It couldn’t be healthy for Yuju to be hosting a foreign spirit, and while the pact with the imugi had granted her endless mana to support both her aggressive spellcasting and the spirit leeching off her, the breaking of that pact meant that Yuju could no longer sustain the same drain. 

That was the closest theory Eunha could come up with regarding Yuju’s condition. She knew something had to be hindering Yuju’s ability to recover. That spirit was her best guess as of now, and surely there had to be a way to either get rid of it or come to an agreement for it to leave. 

Spirits always wanted something. If it was haunting Yuju, either there was an unfinished agreement between them, or the spirit wanted something from her. Eunha was no exorcist, but she knew the basics. If it came down to direct confrontation, her soul fire was nothing to sneeze at. The dragon orb had powered her up significantly, and everything could burn, even immaterial spirits.

The talisman Yuju made rested in her palm now, and Eunha lay down in a comfortable position, knowing that her body would be vulnerable while her mind was busy elsewhere. She was shoulder to shoulder with the sleeping Yuju, and Eunha’s eyes grew soft as she regarded the shaman’s side profile.

She was going to put an end to this situation, one way or another. Eunha closed her eyes, gripping the talisman in her hand as she focused, channelling her magic into the little wood carving. Even as she overloaded the talisman, her senses reached out, ready to make contact.

The talisman shattered in her hand, and in that same moment, she felt the connection between it and Yuju’s soul open briefly, and Eunha didn’t hesitate, diving into that crack before it closed.

It was no easy feat, and Eunha felt a great force trying to repel her, the uninvited guest. Impressive mental shields, the imugi had said. He had not been joking. Yuju was unreadable from the outside even while unconscious, and even that brief opening was a struggle to make use of. 

If Eunha had not forged a link with Yuju before and was still subconsciously recognized as a friend by the shaman, she suspected she couldn’t brute force her way in the same way the imugi had. Mental magics wasn’t her forte, but she had the advantage of familiarity. She had been here before, been invited and made welcome, and it was just a matter of reminding Yuju to extend the same welcome again, even if she weren’t fully conscious of the fact.

It was a tumbling, confusing whirl of sensation and emotion as Eunha struggled to regain her composure. Pulling on her own memories of Yuju’s patient lessons, she righted herself amidst the chaos, the uncontrolled wilds of Yuju’s inner self an unstable kaleidoscope that shifted with every second without a firm hand to tame it.

She needed to go further in. This was just the outside, and without Yuju to guide her, it was not unlike trying to find her way without a map. Eunha kept a firm grip on the astral form of the broken talisman, a struggling bird in her fist trying to fly free. It would lead her to Yuju, she knew. It was meant to do so by design.

In the real world, Eunha lay in slumber next to Yuju, clutching the same talisman her astral form was also holding on to, about to embark on a journey she would never forget.

Who knows where that path would lead? Yet she would forge ahead into the unknown, in love and in hope, simply to find the girl she sought at the end.

Giving up was never on the cards. I will never abandon you. A promise from one lifetime to the next, something she held on to, even if Yuju did not remember. It mattered to her, and that was enough.

I will always find you, in every lifetime.

Ancient words, bubbling up like a prayer, or a curse. The soul remembers, even if the body does not. It comes and it goes, and Eunha loses sight of it as it slips away from her grasp, chasing instead a broken bird struggling ahead on tattered wings. 

Yuju was somewhere ahead. Who knows what she would find?

The last body falls with a heavy thud, sending puffs of ashy snow flying from the impact. Yerin withdraws her long knife with some difficulty, her arm sore where an unlucky hit had clipped her briefly. She would be lucky to get away with a simple bruise, where others would have lost a limb entirely.

They had tracked the lost shipment before it left the city, and while the rabble had been easy enough to deal with, mere street gangsters who were no match for the team she led, the last pair of armed mercenaries were no ordinary foes. Chromed to the teeth and impossibly tough, the pair had taken down a few of her team all while facing a hail of gunfire. It was as if they didn’t feel pain, and one of them had still managed to tear the head off one of her squadmates even after being riddled with bullet holes. 

Yerin had only managed to take down the last one after spotting an unarmored sliver of skin at the back of his neck, and she had whistled for cover from the rest of her team before stealthily ambushing the last man, sinking her blade into that vulnerable spot to end the fight in seconds. 

The number of casualties taken from this excursion was quite unacceptable, and Yerin knew it wouldn’t look good on her record, but at the very least, they had secured the shipment. Giving orders to the survivors, they threw out the rabble to rot in the alleyways, but Yerin made sure to hold on to the two suspicious mercenaries that came at the end. Even cybernetically enhanced warriors had their limits, and there were usually telltale signs in drugheads who took illegal enhancers to resist pain and up their reflexes. 

Those two men did not exhibit those signs, and out of professional curiosity, Yerin made sure to preserve the more intact one for shipping back to base for the scientists at Research to look at. It would at least be a good excuse for losing people if they could at least produce proof that whatever they were facing was unusual enough. 

While her squad was clearing things up, Yerin moved to the shipment to check it out. Most of it was still sealed, long stainless steel containers that reminded Yerin eerily of coffins somehow. She didn’t try to open the shipment, knowing that there were still eyes on her and that she needed to mind her own business.

The shipment was bound for one of their facilities down by the docks, and had been intercepted on the land route from the North. It would be a lie to say that Yerin wasn’t curious about what lay within, but the mission came first. If someone had hijacked the shipment on purpose, they still had to guard it until it reached its destination safely.

The docks… Yerin didn’t remember anything more than a warehouse there. The urgency surrounding the reclamation of this shipment didn’t seem like something they would be shipping out immediately, but she could be wrong. 

Glancing once again at the heavy steel containers, Yerin felt another wave of discomfort overtake her. Something felt off about them, but she had her orders. Motioning to her team, they loaded the containers onto the truck, ready to head out.

A sharp pang of something akin to alarm stabbed at her heart suddenly, and Yerin paused midstep, jerking her head towards a distant direction. It was but a mere whisper, but she had felt something across the Bond for a second.

Yuju? Baby, are you alright?

And all that returned to her was silence. Suppressing her disappointment, Yerin resolved to get the job over and done with as soon as possible. She had staked out a possible interface to hack into the internal file server back at HQ, but she needed an opportunity to get in without being noticed. It was time to move her plans up. Yuju’s continuing silence was more than worrying, and she needed to head back to check on her soon. 

That and she was done playing the good little soldier. She had always wanted to be free, and she would be, no matter what. She had promised this to herself, a long time ago.

I won’t stay here forever. They can’t hold me down.

It had always been that mantra that kept her going through the worst of the training. I will be free someday. It was a vague goal at best back then, backed by some cloudy concept of freedom she didn’t quite understand or even fathom how the thought came to her. Just a quiet determination, as if it were a promise she had to keep.

She might not have seen it coming at the time, but she had someone waiting for her now. Yerin’s eyes grew soft. Everything was worth it if it were for Yuju. 

Somewhere to belong. It was a precious thought. Only those who had nothing before understood the gravity of having something to hold on to. Yerin clenched her fists together tightly, jaw tightening in determination.

She was going to go home, one way or another, and neither heaven nor hell was going to stop her.