“At that moment what?” Jeonghan dares to breathe.

Seungcheol’s eyes focus again.

“Not much more to it,” he shrugs. “They died.”

Jeonghan’s face must express his disappointment, because Seungcheol chuckles.

“Samuel, Dongjin, and Mingming, luckily, survived. Minghao, as you know went to Heaven.”

“But Jun…”

“Life, or rather, Death, had other plans for Junhui.”

Seungcheol sighs, gaze faraway.

“The shadow was not just a demon, but the Emperor of Hell, my master, Doyoon.”

“He was close…” Jeonghan murmurs.

“Very,” Seungcheol agrees. “Doyoon knew his time had come, and elected to pick a successor.”

“Jun.”

“But that boy,” Seungcheol continues, as if nothing had happened. “Was destined for Heaven.”

Seungcheol stops and fixes an intense stare on Jeonghan, who cowers slightly.

“I watched this boy survive the attacks of the people of Hell,” he says. “I watched him buckle under the pressure of being an outsider, chosen to lead this place.”

“Must have been Hell,” Jeonghan, despite himself, mutters under his breath.

“Of course it was Hell.” Seungcheol does not laugh. “But, I also watched him cast off the hateful glares and rise to power to rule with a just and steady hand.”

Jeonghan can fairly see it, a gentle boy, hiding in his room, crying because of the mob outside.

A gentle boy, burying himself beneath layers and layers of sarcasm and scorn.

A once-gentle boy, steeling himself to face the writhing crowd before them.

A still-gentle boy, making decisions as fair as the scale of Heaven.

The boy who had captured Jeonghan’s heart, and whose heart Jeonghan held close.

---

The Portal closes behind him to the throb of the unapproving voices of his soldiers.

“The Emperor of Hell,” a tired voice sighs, and four haggard faces appear from behind a cloud.

“I want to see Jisoo,” Jun says carefully, keeping his voice neutral.

“He’s not done,” a blond angel says, shaking out his wings.

“With what?”

“I’m Soonyoung,” the other plows on. “This is Jihoon, Chan, and Seungkwan.”

“Where is my brother?” Jun demands bluntly, knowing that they know what they know.

Jihoon sighs, and Chan looks ready to cry.

“Jisoo…” Seungkwan mutters. “We tried to stop him, but…”

“He was jealous, you have to realize,” Soonyoung says with a hint of desperation. “Jeonghan could never have been his, and, well, Hansol.”

“He seemed to take it out on Minghao,” Chan sniffles. “You took his brother and his lover from him, but he still has your brother.”

Despite everything, Jun cannot bring himself to be angry at this King.

This King who had lost everything, stripped of all but his power.

And still, even that is controlled by the Board.

It’s pitiful.

“How did he know that Jeonghan would…” Jun trails off, thinking of the boy at home whom he had left in the capable hands of Seungcheol.

“Oh, he didn’t,” Jihoon says softly. “But he had certainly known that Jeonghan was not interested in him anymore.”

“Besides,” Seungkwan adds. “We all knew about you, and Jeonghan, well, he seemed…”

“Smitten, should we say,” Soonyoung finishes with a twinkle in his eye, and Chan smiles.

But of course, just as Jun thought that Heaven was an okay place, Jisoo ruins the moment.

“THIS IS WAR!” he screams, dashing at Jun, followed closely by Minghao, trying to stop him.

Seemingly oblivious to the events happening around him, Jihoon snorts in amusement.

“Like that mortal movie, eh? ‘This is Sparta!’”

Jun stares at him weirdly as Jisoo gets closer.

None of the angels look like they are going to attack him.

“Why aren’t you fighting?” he asks, curiosity winning over his fight instinct.

Soonyoung shrugs.

“First of all, he dismissed us,” he replies nonchalantly. “Also, I don’t really know, but we think Jeonghan is fine where he is.”

“Hansol too, if he’s happy,” Chan pipes up.

But then Jisoo is on top of him and Jun literally has to tear himself away, his cloak ripping apart.

Jisoo snarls and dives again, and Jun suppresses a sigh.

The opponent is much too angry for strategy, and Jun could overcome him easily.

But the Emperor wants to play.

A strike there, a jab here.

Blood seeps out of shallow wounds on Jisoo’s arms, dripping through the clouds.

Mingyu looks out the window and sees red.

He blinks, shakes his head, and it’s gone.

The rain is as clear as crystal.

“A trick of the light?” he wonders out loud.

“Or the blood of angels?”