Bright lights.

Cold steel. Cold eyes.

Low voices. Metal clinking. The smell of blood, and incense.

And they cut. New lines, new patterns. My blood filling the circle.

It hurts. No more tears. No more cries. Only pain remains.

I fall deeper into myself. Skin, flesh, blood and bone. All connected. I am inside myself. Outside. I see how I am built. How the nerves fire off signals when they cut. Deeper. The flesh fades, weakening as my lifeblood drips away. 

When the soul darkens completely, only death remains. I have seen many lights wink out in my fever dreams. A hundred, thousand souls, screaming into the aether. Crying for release, and vengeance.

I do not join them. My soul fire is endless, though my flesh is weak. I am weak. 

But I do not die. They cut, and I see the torn places. Like a puzzle to put back together. In pain, I tug at the edges, trying to mend that which was broken. I fail at first, the connections falling apart like so many tumbling blocks, but it is only pain. I am used to pain. 

I try again. What else is there to do? I cannot leave, and I cannot die. 

Eventually, it comes to me. The flesh remembers how to be whole. I simply have to remind it. 

I am whole again. But they return after the next moon, and I am broken once more.

The seasons turn, and I remain. Endless, undying.

I learn a little after a while. The longer I stay broken, the less they cut. There are other things, always, but I tire of bleeding. It is only pain, but I can choose the less messy option.

They want something, but I do not give it to them. They want the fire for themselves, but I cannot give it. I am the fire. How can I possibly give that away?

They do not understand. I listen, and I learn. They know so much, yet so little. Because they do not see . They cannot. They are jealous of brighter lights, and seek to steal it for their own.

If I had the words to explain, I would have told them. They cannot be what they are not. 

But humans are greedy. As they always have been. They break what they cannot have, steal what is not theirs. They take that which is pure, and warp it to their purposes.

The spirits of nature have left this place. The only thing left is the echoes of screaming souls imprinted onto the aether. A nexus of fear and resentment. All it lacks is a spark to set it off.

They do not understand the forces they toy with. I see what they try to make, but the only thing that will rise from this place is madness. It will destroy us all.

I cannot stop them. I am myself a captive. I cannot change things.

Except. They need a spark still. I can be that spark. A life for a life. There is death enough in this place, but it is still not enough. My fire burns high. Surely I will be enough. And then, maybe, I can be free.

They cut, and I bleed, as always. With a difference. 

My soul fire holds my flesh together. Blood and bone, all is one. I push it outwards, igniting the crimson tide with the light that infuses me. 

The world is bright. They cannot see it, but I do. Beautiful lines, a shining river of my life, my soul an endless wellspring. I see it, and am content.

I know not what I make, but the souls of the dead call out to me. Free us, they say. Live on, in our steads.

Live. I echo that within myself, the room bright all around me. There is power in this place, power in me. My flesh may be weak, but my soul is strong. I speak, and the world moves with it.

I do not remember what happens next. When I next open my eyes, everything has changed.

Eunha does not remember how many tears she has shed by the time the memory is over. Pulled forcefully into a waking dream, she saw everything through a younger Yuju’s eyes, felt the straps on her wrists holding her down, watched with horror as the knives descended.

She could not even close her eyes. The spirit made sure of that. Come and see, it said. Then you’ll understand what was lost. And what was made.

There was so much pain, so much suffering. Little Yuju had torn herself into little pieces within, to match the broken patterns of her tortured flesh. Her innocence to hide away, her logic to learn that which was done. The fury that kept her going, the sorrow for others lost. The fear that kept her in place, and finally, the courage that led her to force a change.

Perhaps the true horror was that Yuju suffered all the more for the fact that she could not die. The pact, of course. The burning soul flame the little girl saw within herself, the fire that never went out, no matter what was done to her. She could not die as long as long as it was in place, and for that reason alone she suffered longer than any other test subject had.

But she would have died without it. Eunha wasn’t sure if it was a mercy or sheer cruelty that the pact was in place to keep her alive. Yuju might not have lived to tell the tale had it not existed.

I would not have existed, if not for that.

The Spider shimmers into sight again, this time taking the form of a younger Yuju in a hospital gown, vivid scars running like patchwork across its face. Eunha felt her stomach churn, tears welling up in her eyes again. It was a horrific reminder of the life Yuju had led, once upon a time.

“Why do you show me that?” Eunha’s voice was hoarse, fists tightly clenched. “What good would it do now?”

“You needed to understand,” the Spider explained patiently. “Who she is, what I am, and that there is yet another way to save her.”

“What do you mean?” Eunha couldn’t help the surge of suspicion that rose alongside the hope within her. Her heart ached for everything Yuju had suffered, but she could not place her trust so easily in a spirit with uncertain motives.

“I was born from her blood and the souls of the restless dead. Vengeance for the lost, and her life to keep safe. That is my purpose.” 

“She never said anything about this before,” Eunha narrowed her eyes at the Spider. “You could be lying.”

The Spider shrugged. “And yet I have not harmed her, at least not willingly.” A shadow flickers briefly through its red eyes. “She has forgotten me. Locked away the pain and suffering, and me along with it. I seek to fulfill my side of the bargain, but without her to acknowledge it, I remain bound.”

“And she cannot recover because you are draining her still.” Eunha growled. “I can see it, especially here.”

“Spirits bound to a place can draw on the leylines and natural magic of the world to exist. I, on the other hand, was raised by her blood and willed into existence by her word, and thus I am bound to her. That is not exactly something I can change.” The Spider sighed.

“We didn’t have this problem until the bloody reptile croaked. She raised me with her full power, and I am stronger for it, but the price…” The Spider spread its hands helplessly. “I am manifest here, and I must feed.”

“I could still kill you and end the drain,” Eunha threatened. The Spider smiled at that.

“You could do that, but she would still be broken. I’m not responsible for that, you know.”

Eunha paused, thinking. The spirit had a point. That was an unexpected complication to have to deal with, and Eunha wasn’t confident she could put Yuju back together on her own. It wasn’t like there were any manuals on how to patch a broken soul. And would that even be a magical problem or a mental one to begin with?

“You don’t have to do it alone. You have me.” The Spider’s voice was smoothly persuasive, inching closer to the hesitant Eunha. It slipped a small, scarred hand into Eunha’s own.

“I was born from her blood. I can be the glue that puts her back together, if you help me.”

Eunha frowned, looking down at the small, expectant face of the Spider. If not for the red eyes, she would have fallen for the vulnerable act. She slipped her hand back out, putting it behind her back as she stepped to one side, avoiding that intent gaze.

“And what is your price?” There was a price for everything. Eunha knew spirits, and they always bargained. There had to be something in it for the Spider, if it were offering this. Eunha couldn’t help but be wary. Yuju’s life and soul were at stake here.

“She was always afraid of being alone, you know?” The Spider shifted subjects smoothly, stepping back and sitting down on a stool that popped into existence at a thought. Eunha copied the move, suddenly reminded that this was an imaginary space and everything was malleable.

“I was always with her, but she never knew, never saw.” There was a forlorn note in the Spider’s voice. “You could help me reunite with her. We’d never be apart again that way.”

“You mean…” Eunha hesitated, afraid of the conclusion she was coming to. The Spider nodded.

“We’d be one. I will be in her, and she in me. No more drain. We’ll be more powerful together than apart.”

“And then she’d no longer be the Yuju I know.” Eunha concluded coldly, her eyes hardening. “I can’t agree to this. I came to save her, not destroy her.”

“But we’ll be alive, and whole. You lose none of who she is, with just a little bit of me on the side,” the Spider looked very earnest and sincere, as much as a snake oil salesman would be. Eunha bounced to her feet, furious.

“I would never…!”

Warm arms embraced her from behind, and Eunha shuddered as all too familiar lips traced the outline of her ear, whispering sweet poison into her head.

“I would choose you, if I had the chance. We could be together, after all this.” A warm nuzzle against her neck. “You don’t have to cry alone at night, watching us with someone else. I could be yours again.” Fingers tangled together, bringing one hand up to kiss their joined knuckles.

“Let me love you as you’ve always wanted.”

And, for a moment, Eunha wavered. Shamefully, guiltily, she actually considered the offer.

When Yuju had turned her down, softly and gently as the girl was wont to do, she had known then that she no longer stood a chance. Yuna was always a loyal lover, regardless of temptation. Her reincarnated self would be no different in this respect. 

But Eunha couldn’t let it go. She tried, for all the good that did. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she hadn’t remembered what it was like to be loved by her. 

But she did. Remembered being the absolute center of someone’s universe, always ready to take her hand through rain and snow, staying one step behind or by her side to wait for her no matter what happened. Yuna had given her everything, even her life at the end, just to see her safe and happy. 

And selfishly, Eunha wanted it again. Not as Jung Eunbi from the past life, but as herself. As Eunha, orphaned early in this life and taken in by her best friend’s family, before it was all lost again.

She barely remembered her mother’s face. Never knew her father. And for all the kindness SinB’s parents had shown her, they were not really her family. She was desperate, even greedy for affection, and for all of her strengths, that was not something SinB was particularly good at, even though Eunha loved her as a sister. 

Meeting Yuju in this life and experiencing a spark of attraction was merely a beginning. The shaman was patient and kind, indulging her when she needed skin on skin contact, even if it was something as simple as holding her hand or giving her a hug. Little things, things that Eunha wasn’t even consciously craving, but her subconscious need had driven her closer anyway.

Then came the journey to the past, and the pain of loss was more unbearable for having possessed it once. Eunha didn’t even know what she wanted at first, having never experienced the blazing flames of Yuna’s love; but after seeing what she had as Jung Eunbi in the past life, it came as little surprise that she got greedy for something she only had a little taste of, through the eyes of another. 

And now the spirit was offering her everything she ever wanted. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted. She wanted it so badly it hurt.

Let me love you. Those words, in the magnetic tones of Yuju’s voice, a low hum against her skin. Eunha closed her eyes, gripping tightly at their joined hands, resting on her stomach. Being held on to like this, protected and sheltered. Cherished.  

She could have it all. All she had to do was say yes.

It would be so simple. Yuju would be hers, and no one would ever know… But would what resulted from this even be Yuju anymore?

What do you want, Eunha? The mage bit her lip, so hard that it started to bleed. To love her, or only to be loved by her? 

Is there a difference? A quieter, almost insidious voice countered. You would be happy. You can make her happy. She could be yours. 

She has already chosen, and it wasn’t me. I can’t take that away from her! Eunha argued back, starting to tremble visibly as her eyes reddened. 

People can change. That same quiet voice reminded her, and Eunha shuddered again. The warm arms around her squeezed gently, and the tenderness was so familiar it almost made her cry.

“I can’t do this.” Eunha whispered, shaking her head. She struggled out of the embrace, whipping around to face the illusion that was confusing her.

And halted in her tracks, tears running anew as she beheld Yuna in her bloodstained uniform, just as she remembered watching the girl die in her arms. If it was an illusion, it was a very convincing one. 

“You’re dead… ” Eunha moaned in obvious distress, wringing her hands together. “This can’t be real. You’re not really here…” 

This Yuna was paler than death, and blood streaked down one side of her face and arms. If Eunha turned her around, she knew she would see the shredded fabric where shrapnel from a grenade had torn into her back.

The grenade Yuna had saved her from, once upon a time. A reminder of the debt from the past life. Eunha was shaking, but the Yuna from her memories only smiled, reaching forward to cup her cheek gently. 

“Don’t cry, bunny. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I couldn’t save you before…” Eunha muttered, wrapping her arms around herself. “I won’t lose you again.”

“I’m here now.” Yuna pulled the smaller mage in close, soothing the sobbing girl in her arms. “I won’t leave you, as long as you’ll have me.”

“Always…” Eunha raised her head, cheeks glistening with tears. Her eyes locked on with Yuna’s gentle gaze, one of her hands rising to trace the lines she used to know so well, as if to commit it to memory. 

“So real…” She murmured, half to herself. “If only…”

“I am as real as you want me to be.” Yuna replied, leaning into Eunha’s touch and rumbling low in like the oversized puppy she was. Eunha bit her lip, rubbing her thumb across the soft skin, her eyes reflecting her internal struggle.

“But you’re not Yuju...and Yuna is dead. She’s not coming back.” Eunha withdrew her hand, clenching it into a fist. The bloodied memory smiled sadly.

“And so there it is. Which one of us do you really love, I wonder?”

“I…” Eunha’s throat tightened, and then gasped when the image before her grew transparent, as if fading away into nothingness. In desperation, she lunged forward, catching nothing but air in the end. The distraught mage sank to her knees, staring blankly into the distance.

Footsteps padded close, and then the Spider crouched down by her, still in child form and almost innocent at a glance. Eunha lowered her head, gritting her teeth.

“Is this fun for you?” Hurting me like this, Eunha did not add. She did not have to.

“I only held up a mirror to your heart. Don’t blame me for your own confusion.” The Spider sniffed haughtily. “Besides, we can become anything you want us to be, but first you have to know what you want. Otherwise, how are you going to choose?”

“You say this like I’m going to choose you.” Eunha retorted. The Spider looked at her, and laughed.

“Are you not?”

Taking down an entire facility wasn’t as easy as pressing a big red button labelled SELF DESTRUCT like you see in the cartoons. Yerin wished it could have been that easy, but alas, life had other plans. 

She didn’t even have any heavy duty explosives with her either, but this was a lab environment. Given enough time, she could scrounge around for the necessary materials to put together a makeshift bomb. There were so many possibilities on that front, when it came to methods for destruction.

Problem was, the odds of her being left alone to do so wasn’t very high. She did still have a clinger-on who doubled as both guide and . Given the choice, she would rather not eliminate him too early; she didn’t want any alarm to be raised prematurely before she could do any real damage.

That narrowed her options, but Yerin was a resourceful woman. A combination of guarded flattery and restrained curiosity opened doors that would otherwise have been shut to her. Of course, being a pretty lady who could literally look like the woman of your dreams really helped as well. Yerin wasn’t above using her gift to lower the guard of people around her. This was exactly what she was made to do, and it would be foolish not to take advantage. 

The impromptu tour she was inadvertently given as a result gave her a better idea of the facility’s layout and a glimpse into the greater purpose of Project ARIA. Yerin wasn’t sure how they managed to extract mana from people who weren’t mages, or even what that extracted mana was for, but the whole process made her deeply uncomfortable. Hundreds of people were on that production floor from the brief glance she took earlier, and they were essentially being farmed for energy. 

Yerin couldn’t imagine anyone consenting to that. A better person might want to save them, but Yerin was not that person. On her own, there was no way she could free them all, or even guarantee that any of them would be in a condition to flee even if she made the attempt to free them. It was unfortunate, but the victims were not her priority in this case. She knew exactly what she came for, and she was no messiah to deliver anyone else from their suffering. 

Of course, if she succeeded in taking this whole facility down, death would be its own freedom. Yerin figured that most of the long term captives were probably too drained to live much longer even if they were freed. Death would be a mercy for them in this case.

The datachip she left behind was still in the midst of copying the files, and it would take the better part of an hour to complete. Hacking might not be her strongest suit, but she wasn’t best friends with Hayoung for nothing. Once she had the files, she was going to wipe their database and overload the generators powering the facility. It would be far more efficient if she had proper explosives, but she wasn’t confident about being able to infiltrate this place a second time once the Director learned that she had entered this place.

This was her one and only chance. She was going to make the most of it.

Her tour of the facility complete, Yerin smiled benignly at her unwitting guide, rendering him slightly stupefied with her glamour before promptly breaking his neck and roughly shoving him into a supply closet, all accomplished within seconds while they were still located in a dead angle between cameras. 

She checked the countdown on her watch. She had synced the timer to the duration it would take to download the database onto the chip, and with some luck, it might even be able to ping Umji despite them being hundreds of meters underground. It was a shot in the dark, but Yerin was counting on the fact that even if she didn’t make it out, at least one of the others would get the info. 

Of course, if Sowon decided to reinforce her, all the better. Yerin wasn’t keen on dying anytime soon. She still needed to get back to Yuju, whose exact condition was still worrying her this entire time. For the time being though, she had shoved her concerns into a tiny corner of her mind. She couldn’t afford to be distracted right now.

Time was of the essence. So much to do, so little time. Yerin wasn’t sure how long it would take before someone noticed her movements, and bypassing the circuit breakers to rig the generators for maximum damage when they overloaded was going to take a little time. She touched the collar still on her neck. The location tag on it meant that they knew exactly where she was, but unless it was someone with a high enough clearance to know of Project ARIA and this secret facility, anyone monitoring the signal would assume that she was still hanging around the warehouse above ground. That was the only comfort she had at the moment.

Yerin assumed a no nonsense expression as she threaded her way back through the labyrinth hallways, and no one stopped to question her -- the fact that she had been seen in the company of what had to be a relatively high ranking flunky earlier meant that she got a free pass from the existing staff here. Then again, most people rarely scrutinized others once you made it past the guards at the entrance. Speaking from experience, Yerin had realized early that so long as you behaved as if you had a right to be there, most people didn’t question your presence. 

It also helped that she was projecting an aura of semi-familiarity: just enough for people to feel like they have seen you around before, but not enough for them to want to approach to make conversation. It was Yerin’s favorite infiltration trick. Used correctly, it left her semi invisible in a crowd, and she had little time to waste on random encounters right now.

She didn’t care if the cameras caught her movements right now. If she did things correctly, everything here would be wiped, and since this was a delinked system node, the odds of there being an external backup was low, with security being what it was. This being a secret, off the books project, Yerin was betting on them not copying the files onto the company databases, which meant that any and all backups had to be local. She had to make sure she overwrote them all and leave nothing behind for them to restart the program.

No more sacrifices. Yerin promised herself. She wasn’t sure if rigging the generators to explode was going to be enough to collapse the facility, the place was big and if the damage was only localized, it would be little more than a minor setback, maybe just a diversion for her to escape at best. 

She wanted more. Her mind flashed back to the production floor. All the arcane symbols implied some sort of ritual circle, or would that be a network in this case? Disrupting it should cause more damage, better if she could overload the magical processes running in the area. The results should be spectacular...if she survived setting it off.

Which, of course, led to the question of how she was going to achieve that effect. Yerin was sensitive to magical activity and was herself enhanced magically, but she wasn’t an actual mage. She couldn’t see the lines of power in the place the way either Eunha or Yuju could have, and she couldn’t actively manipulate mana the way they could either. 

Defacing the symbols might cause some problems, but would it be enough for the catastrophic overload she was hoping for? Yerin wasn’t sure. She was going to have to improvise.

Clutching at the talisman she wore underneath her clothes, Yerin squeezed the warm wood briefly, praying that Yuju could give her strength and the advice she would need. It was a miracle she had managed to keep that out of their hands so far, but Yerin would sooner die than give that up. In the absence of Yuju’s presence on the other end of their Bond, this was the closest thing she had to feeling her puppy next to her heart.

Please be safe. I miss you so much.

Yerin took a deep breath. She only had to do her best. Get the info, sabotage as much of the facility as she could, then get out. Yuju was waiting for her still. 

And if what she did today was not enough, she would be back someday. Dark eyes flickered as she slipped into the service tunnels. The ghosts of the dead accompanied her in this, and she would take vengeance on their behalf. She could do no less.

The clock was ticking. Time to get to work.

It hadn’t taken long for Umji to decode the signal, but it still felt like a very long hour. Sowon wasted no time upon getting the coordinates, having geared up in the process of waiting. Yerin was in danger, and she owed it to Yuju to get the assassin out before anything could go wrong.

There was a minor argument before the old soldier left though. Umji insisted on coming along, and Sowon was quite vehemently against the idea at first, but eventually the leader had to give way after Umji pointed out that Sowon wasn’t going to be able to blast her way into a secure compound on her own. Someone had to get her past the doors, and who else better suited to that role than Umji?

SinB had stayed out of that argument. As much as she wanted to help, she still had a duty to carry out. It had been nearly eight hours since Eunha had begun the ritual, and while it was still within acceptable territory, there was no way SinB was going to leave her best friend unguarded in the meantime. 

Sowon understood, and they exchanged a long look before the older woman left, Umji in tow. The hacker slyly left a copy of the coordinates behind, along with the communicator SinB had returned to Sowon not that long ago. It was sheer optimism to hope that Eunha would be done before everything was taken care of, but Umji felt that any chance of getting the cavalry to arrive was simply good planning in action. 

If anything, SinB would come for Sowon, she figured. The gunslinger had given her a look when the hacker dropped the items in front of her, but they both knew what it meant. SinB would come, once she could. It would simply be a bonus if Eunha and Yuju could also make it, provided either of them were in any condition to fight after whatever thing it was Eunha was trying to accomplish in there.

SinB stared at the door, disassembled mechanical parts laid out before her. There were only so many times she could clean her guns, and Umji had taken pity on her after the first hour of her vigil and given her something to dismantle for fun. 

There was something therapeutic about breaking something down into mere components, before reassembling it to see if she could alter or enhance its functionality in some way. SinB was good with her hands, and this activity kept her from getting bored too quickly. Umji had a lot of toys on hand, as it turned out.

The gunslinger had gotten up to stretch and pace for the umpteenth time when a sudden burst of energy rocked the ground beneath her, almost dropping her to her knees from the shock. Did the ground really move though, or was it just her that fell over? SinB couldn’t be sure.

Her head snapped up to face the door where Eunha lay within with Yuju. The last time she had felt something similar was when Yuju had performed the ritual to pull Eunha’s soul back. This energy surge wasn’t quite the same, nowhere near as intense for one thing, but not weak either. 

SinB felt the hairs on her neck standing on end, the static energy in the air alarming her considerably as she scrambled back onto her feet. The door was locked, but she had a key. The gunslinger hesitated, remembering Eunha’s warnings. Any kind of interference could be potentially fatal for the two mages inside, and SinB didn’t know enough to help. 

it, I need to check and see that Eunha’s okay.

SinB approached the door, fumbling for the key before trying to insert it into the lock. The first touch against the cold metal zapped her so badly that she dropped the key, and SinB would swear that she saw arcs of static electricity spark out when she had tried to insert the key earlier. That couldn’t be a good sign. She needed to get in as soon as possible. Eunha could be in danger.

SinB could feel power overflowing from the room beyond, even through the closed doors. Not the familiar sense of Eunha’s presence that she had grown up with, but something else entirely. SinB found that her hands were shaking on their own when she bent to retrieve the fallen keys. Something felt awfully off, and it was freaking the hell out of her.

Taking a deep breath to center herself, SinB forced herself to move closer to the door again, every step a heavy weight. She was about to try and force the key in when the door visibly shook in its frame, cracks starting to spider its way through the heavy blast door.

SinB jumped back just as the whole damn thing splintered into tiny pieces, feeling somewhat pathetically grateful that it hadn’t exploded outwards and turn her into an unfortunate hedgehog in the process. The gunslinger let out an explosive breath and fixed her gaze on the smoking doorway, pupils contracting when she saw the tall figure of Yuju filling the now smoking space, carrying an evidently exhausted Eunha in her arms.

“Eunha!” SinB burst forward, her natural concern for her best friend overriding her innate wariness of a suddenly reawakened Yuju. The fire mage lifted her head wearily, one hand making a half hearted wave.

“Hey…” 

“Are you alright?” SinB demanded, checking her best friend over for any signs of injury. Other than looking like she wanted nothing more than to sleep, Eunha looked perfectly unscathed on the outside. Of course, that meant next to nothing when magic was involved. SinB couldn’t see any of the things that mattered, and then there was the matter of Yuju, who was still standing there silently like the undiscussed elephant in the room.

Swallowing for a second, SinB glanced up to give Yuju a quick once over. No red eyes, an extremely good sign if she could say so herself. But something felt different about the shaman somehow, and SinB couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

Yuju was always sort of off in her own world before, and there were times when it felt like she wasn’t entirely there, a phenomenon Eunha had explained to her previously as planeswalking. Yuju was constantly floating between the aethereal and the physical world, so it came as no surprise that she always felt a little distant and not quite present.

That wasn’t the case right now. In the brief moment SinB had locked eyes with Yuju earlier, the shaman had been solidly present, in a way that felt both terrible and magnetic. Her eyes weren’t red or anything, but they still felt like black holes of gravity ready to pull her in with a single look. 

It unnerved SinB more than a little, and she had to break eye contact before it felt like she was going to blabber up all her secrets in the next moment. She focused on Eunha instead, the older girl seeming quite comfortable being carried by Yuju in a bridal lift. 

Which, wait a second, wasn’t the shaman kind of still not fully recovered from her injury at this time? Where was she even getting the strength to do this? 

Eunha must have noticed the flickers of doubt in SinB’s eyes, and the fire mage reached out to grasp SinB’s hand reassuringly, squeezing it in solidarity. SinB looked questioningly at her, and Eunha shook her head with a tiny sigh. 

“Later, SinB. It’s...a lot to explain.”

SinB opened to reply, but was cut off prematurely by a sudden weight in the room, as if the atmospheric pressure had shifted. The culprit was very obviously Yuju, and SinB risked another glance at the eerily quiet shaman, who was all but literally radiating with power, her eyes dark and fixed into the distance.

“I must go.” It might have been her imagination, but SinB even thought that Yuju sounded different somehow, but it could have been the whole magical aura thing affecting her senses. Eunha struggled to pull herself up and closer to Yuju, but the shaman was already putting her down by a nearby couch.

“You stay behind. I took too much already.” Yuju’s eyes darkened with something akin to guilt, but her tone obviously softened when she addressed Eunha. Eunha shook her head, stubborn.

“I can still fight. What we shared earlier...you know I can.” She took Yuju’s arm in both her hands, tugging softly. “Don’t leave me behind, please?”

Yuju closed her eyes briefly, a flicker of conflict passing through her face before she nodded reluctantly. Eunha squealed and raised her arms back up to Yuju, who bent over in resignation and picked her back up again. 

Next to them, SinB felt extremely out of place and somewhat like a third wheel. It was a distinctly uncomfortable feeling. As the pair made their way towards the exit, evidently forgetting that SinB was still there, the gunslinger called out, visibly annoyed.

“Helloooo? Where are you guys going?”

Yuju didn’t even pause in her step, but her reply dropped like a bomb anyway.

“To Yerin. She’s hurt.” A pause.

“And so is Sowon.” An almost audible grinding of teeth. “We don’t have much time.”

SinB’s eyes widened. “The ?” She grabbed the items Umji had left her earlier, along with the keys to the van Umji had also thoughtfully included. “Come on, I know where they are. I’ll drive.”

“What! No!” Eunha squeaked out at the idea of SinB driving. She still vividly remembered the last time her best friend had been at the wheel. Eunha considered herself to have a stomach of iron, but even she had felt somewhat ill after that particular joyride. Vehicles were not meant to do the things SinB made them do, nor were the rules of physics and traffic a mere footnote to be ignored at her convenience.

“What? Neither of you can drive, and it’d take too long on foot.” SinB argued back. Yuju, not knowing any better, agreed. The shaman had been out cold the last time she had been in a vehicle with SinB driving. She had absolutely no idea what she was in for.

“We are going to die.” Eunha declared dramatically, putting one hand over her eyes. SinB snorted, bounding up the steps two at a time as she switched to leading the way.

“Don’t be a baby, Eunha!”

The fire mage groaned, burying her face into Yuju’s neck. The shaman’s eyes flashed for a second, but the moment passed, and she shifted to make Eunha more comfortable as she hurried to catch up to SinB.

The same shift also moved the collar of her shirt to one side, revealing the still vivid scar of where the bullet had struck her before. But where it had once been a semi circular patch of scarred tissue at the base of , it now held a far stronger resemblance to something else. 

Eunha traced one finger against the scar, and it writhed underneath her touch, coalescing from the earlier rough sketch of an arachnid into a fully realized portrait of an orb-weaver spider, the main body of which covered the old location of the scar like a vanity tattoo.

Closing her eyes, Eunha let out a breath as she rested her head against Yuju’s shoulder. Yuju were awake. Yuju was here. Everything would be alright, somehow. She didn’t know if what she did was the right thing, but she had made her choice earlier, for better or worse.

Only time would tell if her actions were correct. Eunha couldn’t know. She hoped, though. It was all she had left. She had given everything and more to bring Yuju back, and right now, she had barely any strength in her left. It was worth it. It had to be.

God help them all if she were wrong, for the spirits surely wouldn’t.