3.1.4

Content warnings: discussions of possession, severe wound (detail below; skip if you prefer surprises)

• It is implied that a character is being slowly possessed.

• A character takes a serious bullet wound—described from their perspective.

~.~

Peter had never been hiking before—not properly, anyway. Hiking was an activity for rich people who could afford to travel, and Peter decidedly did not fit into that category. His lack of hiking experience was really coming into focus now, though, as Peter, Juli, and Dani forged their way up Mount Kerinci in the dark.

There was no trail leading to the summit, so the trio were forced to forge their own path. All of them had tripped at least once, even with the aid of the flashlights Peter had materialized. They were near the top, now, and the area was bare of any foliage, but given how dark it was outside, the view was lost on Peter. He couldn’t even really tell what color the rocks were.

“So,” Juli panted. “What do you think glasses man was doing at the top of an active volcano in Indonesia?”

“Learning to juggle,” Peter said nonchalantly. He used his telekinesis like a chisel to bang a footfall into the rock in front of him. “Or maybe learning to yodel?”

“Peter,” Dani said bluntly. “What the hell are you talking about.”

“Oh, y’know.” Peter looked over his shoulder with a grin. “Don’t you ever get the urge to scale a mountain in search of enlightenment?”

“Uhhh, I guess that’s a common trope in cartoons,” Juli said slowly. “Are you saying yodeling is Haku’s path to enlightenment?”

“Yep!” Peter said cheerfully, popping the p. “It’s good for the soul.” He scanned the next stretch of the rocky incline for a safe path forward. Satisfied that the existing terrain wasn’t too sheer or steep, Peter continued to lead the way towards the summit.

“I should try yodeling, then,” Juli murmured, brow furrowed in thought. “After this, I mean.”

“Juli,” Dani said thinly. “It’s not that deep. Peter is just full of shit.” She directed the beam of her flashlight onto Peter’s face as she said his name, effectively blinding him, and he was forced to stop moving.

“Oh.” Juli’s face fell. “Damn. I thought he was onto something there.”

“When is he ever?” Dani muttered. With a flick of her wrist, she redirected the flashlight, allowing Peter the glorious gift of vision. “Let’s just keep moving.”

“Right!” Juli said with a firm nod. Peter rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t have had to stop if Dani hadn’t blinded him, but he knew better than to bring that up.

Instead, Peter continued to climb. The trio moved in relative silence until they reached a flat shelf of rock jutting outwards over the valley below. They weren’t quite at the top of the mountain—not even high enough to break the clouds, actually—but Peter’s bracelet started to pull him towards the center of the overlook.

“You know, Juli,” Peter said casually, leading the trio towards the spot. “I think you should try yodeling if you want to. Dani’s just a hater.”

“I am not,” Dani said with a frown. “You’re just saying whatever runs through your tiny little brain without any filter whatsoever.”

“Sure, sure,” Peter said lightly. He knelt down and searched the area with his flashlight. After a few seconds, he was rewarded with a twinkle of orange in the corner of his vision.

“But Dani, consider this…” As Peter reached for the orange marble, he looked up at Dani, who was regarding him with equal measures of suspicion and curiosity. “That kind of sounds like something a hater would say, don’t you think?”

Peter closed his fingers around the marble before Dani could say anything in reply.

~.~

“It’s not fair,” Max grumbled, plopping down next to Haku.

“Life isn’t fair, as I’ve learned,” Haku said miserably, staring into the distance. It was a clear day, the perfect balance of crisp air and blanketing humidity. The clouds had lifted, granting Haku a perfect view of coffee fields interspersed with untamed lowland jungle, all sparkling with dew in the light of the rising sun.

It should have been a breath-taking sight.

Haku couldn’t find it in them to be impressed. Perhaps they were simply tired that day, or maybe they had finally grown weary of seeing the sunrise—of watching the world move, day by day, at a pace simultaneously too fast to control yet too slow to enjoy.

Maybe you’d like to try something more exciting?

Haku pushed the voice of their soul splinter as far down as they could manage. Now wasn’t the time for that, not when Max was trying to talk to them.

“—especially unfair to us,” Max was saying. “We shouldn’t have to live like this.”

“Like this?” Haku asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes! Like this!” Max huffed. “You know exactly what I mean!”

“Do I, now?” A coy smile sprang to Haku’s lips. “Please, enlighten me.”

Max glared at Haku. “You’re doing this to mess with me.”

“Maybe I’m just stupid,” Haku said with a shrug.

“Just an ass, more like,” Max groaned. He playfully shoved Haku’s shoulder. “Still, since you’ve decided to play dumb, I guess I can explain.” Max’s expression grew more somber.

“I just think—” he sighed. “I just think that we shouldn’t have to live with intrusive future visions that we can’t control. Or incessant nightmares of the worst possible outcomes, or an insatiable hunger for power, or this fucking depression demon—”

“Depression demon,” Haku deadpanned.

“Well, what would you call it?” Max snapped. “It’s every negative thing about me brought to life and it sits in the back of my mind and tries to constantly tell me how shitty I am in an attempt to break me. And if I let it win, half of Italy ends up blown off the map! Sounds like a depression demon to me!”

“That’s fair, I suppose,” Haku said with a laugh. “I’d call it… a spirit that vies for control of the conscious mind by attempting to break what little rationality remains. A shadow that is simultaneously self and other. In other words, a dark, corrupted splinter of the soul.”

“That’s not catchy,” Max groused, arms crossed.

“It’s more accurate, though,” Haku pointed out. Max’s scowl didn’t lessen. “You know, we should ask the voices which alias they prefer.”

You think you’re such a riot, don’t you, Haku’s soul splinter drawled.

Perhaps I do, Haku said airily.

Well, you’re not particularly funny, the soul splinter shot back.

And you’re not the one I was trying to entertain.

“I don’t think my depression demon liked that suggestion very much,” Max said wryly.

“Oh, neither did mine,” Haku said lightly. “It was worth a shot, though.” They decided not to dwell on the fact that they had just been effectively arguing with themself.

The pair lapsed into silence as they watched the sun continue to rise. The dew-laden fields below almost seemed to sparkle as the light of a new day settled over them, and the air was cool and still, disturbed only by the drone of insects coming to life in the summer heat. For a second, Haku could almost enjoy it.

And then something flickered at the corner of their vision—an image of corpses strewn across a field bathed in blood. Haku let out a shaky breath. When they blinked, the vision was gone.

“...It’s almost peaceful, isn’t it?” Max said quietly.

“Almost,” Haku agreed, a slight tremor in their voice. Max, damn him, noticed immediately.

“What did you see?” he asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Haku said miserably. “I’ll figure it out later.”

Haku squeezed their eyes shut in an attempt to clear the image from their memory, but that just brought along a slew of related visions: men in uniforms armed with guns and grenades, staking out mile-long trenches; airplanes cutting across the night sky, spewing metal shells that exploded upon impact with the quiet city below; rows of bound prisoners being forced to march in the snow.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Max asked, brow furrowed with concern.

“There’s no need for that,” Haku said quickly. “You’re still young, and you’re still learning. You should enjoy your youth while you have it.”

“We’re immortal,” Max said flatly. “We’ll always be young.”

“Physically, yes,” Haku replied, their gaze distant. “Mentally, though? I can’t say I agree. There is a large difference between a twenty year old and someone with four centuries under their belt.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Max snarked. “You’re old. But I’m not a child anymore, and I can help.”

“I wasn’t denying that,” Haku said with a weary smile. “I’m just saying that you don’t have to help.”

“What if I want to help?” Max argued.

“Well…” Haku leaned back, resting their weight on their hands. “I know what it’s like to be forced into something like this from a young age. It’s not pleasant. And…” Haku made eye contact with Max. “It’s not what I want for you.”

“But you’re so stressed, and—”

“I’m fine,” Haku interrupted. “Really, I am.”

“But—”

“You mentioned before that it was almost peaceful,” Haku deflected. They gazed wistfully at the fields of coffee stretching out towards the horizon. The sun’s rays were growing stronger, bringing with them a heat that would soon turn oppressive. For now, though, the air was pleasantly warm.

“I think…” Haku closed their eyes, relishing the feeling of the wind tickling their skin. “I think almost is good enough for me.”

“Really?” Max said incredulously. “You’re really—you’re okay with the curse?”

“Living with Yaran’s curse is not easy,” Haku said calmly, opening their eyes. “But it is not unbearable, and I can use this power to improve circumstances for others, so I do not mind it. In addition, there is no way to remove the curse, so it seems pointless to dwell on what life would be like without it.”

For a second, Max stared at Haku, dumbfounded. Then, he turned away, his expression morphing into a frown. His next words were so soft that Haku almost missed them.

“I’ll find a way to get rid of the curse, then,” Max muttered under his breath. “For all of us.”

And then the scene shifted.

At first glance, the mountaintop looked nearly unchanged. It was late evening now, and the setting sun bathed the valley in red light. Haku stared out at the scene with lifeless eyes. They were too tired to take anything in, but not too complacent to miss the scrape of shoes on rock behind them.

“You have a lot of gall, coming here after what you did,” Haku growled.

“Please,” Max scoffed, taking a seat next to Haku. “Why else would you come here if not to speak to me?”

“Fair enough.” Haku looked at Max with a dispassionate gaze. The younger immortal looked much the same as when Haku had last seen him—same coiffed hair, same ashy skin, same sickly gray aura—but now with the addition of a pair of dark sunglasses. Haku looked away.

“I will be generous, then,” they decided. “You get five minutes to explain yourself.”

Max gave a mirthless smile. “What is there to explain? Surely the others have told you by now about the plan I proposed to them.”

“Yes,” Haku said thinly. “They certainly did. Though it is beyond me why you thought they would say yes to the annihilation and reconstruction of the universe.”

Max let out an exasperated sigh. “I thought you of all people would understand.”

“Understanding and agreement are not the same thing,” Haku said evenly. “I can understand wanting more. I can understand being discontent with the curse. I cannot, however, condone what you’re trying to do.”

“I can give us a clean start!” Max pressed. “You’ve always wanted that!”

“We would get a clean start, sure,” Haku said dully. “We would survive a reset of the universe, eternal as we are. But what about them?” Haku gestured out towards the fields, towards the farmers returning home for the day. “Our happiness does not outweigh theirs.”

“And why doesn’t it?” Max argued. “Why should we suffer so much when everyone else gets to enjoy their lives? It’s not fair!”

Haku gave Max a long look.

“You’ve changed,” they said finally. “I shouldn't be surprised. I suppose absorbing the essence of a malevolent god would do that to you.”

“Yaran is dead!“ Max snapped. “He’s dead and I killed him! He has no power over me!”

“If you believed that, you wouldn’t be wearing those ridiculous sunglasses,” Haku said coolly. With a wave of their hand, Max’s sunglasses disappeared, revealing gray eyes ablaze with anger.

“Give. Them. Back.”

“Okay.” Haku snapped and the sunglasses returned to their spot. “Why did you start wearing sunglasses, anyway?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Max snapped. A wry smile crossed Haku’s face.

“I think it’s quite relevant,” they said bluntly. “It’s a sign that you’re not as free of Yaran’s influence as you’d like me to believe. You’re wearing those sunglasses to hide from me the fact that your eyes’ usual brown has been overtaken by Yaran’s characteristic gray.”

“I’m not—“

“Deny it all you want,” Haku interrupted. “But you’ve changed since absorbing Yaran’s essence, and you will continue to change, I think, until there is nothing left of you.”

“Did your future sight tell you that?” Max snarked.

“No,” Haku replied, holding Max’s gaze. “I didn’t need it to.”

A beat.

“You were never mapping the future for our sakes, were you?” Max said bitterly. “You were doing it for them.” He didn’t even try to hide his contempt on the last word as he gestured out towards the valley.

“What can I say? I think they deserve better.”

“We deserve better!” Max snarled. Haku gave Max a pointed look.

“I’ve had lifetimes of ‘better.’ Lifetimes more than I was supposed to have, even. They haven’t had that same chance.” Haku’s gaze fell to their hands. “I can give them that. I can give them better.”

Max gaped at Haku.

“You actually believe that,” he said quietly. “You actually believe—you believe that getting killed at nine years old and then—and then subjecting yourself to this, to endlessly scouring the timelines and forcefully distancing yourself to remain impartial—you think this is what you deserve?”

Max’s voice was a mix of fury and despair by the time he finished. Haku didn’t respond. They turned to stare out towards the setting sun.

“You’re ridiculous,” Max spat. “I cannot believe—“

“Believe what you want,” Haku said thinly. They rose to their feet. “I think we’re done here.”

“No, we’re not!” Max said fiercely. “You don’t understand—“

“If you’re going to maintain your current mode of thinking, then I suggest you do not approach me again unless you want your head separated from your neck.”

Orange light began to swirl at Haku’s ankles. Max scrambled to his feet.

“Don’t you dare run away!” he growled. “This isn’t over!”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not,” Haku said with a weary smile.

“I’ll kill you!” Max snarled. “I’ll kill you as many times as it takes until you understand!”

“You will be killing me into eternity, then.” The orange light grew brighter as it enveloped Haku’s legs, climbing towards their torso.

“Why?” Max cried, desperation rising in his voice. “Why can’t you see that I’m doing this for us?”

“Does it matter?” Haku shot back. “Why do you care so much what I think?”

“You—you know why!” Max said hoarsely. He reached out and grabbed Haku’s wrist, preventing Haku from teleporting away. “Stop playing dumb!”

He still cares about you, Haku’s soul splinter said softly. He still searches for your approval.

Yes, Haku said miserably. A sad smile crossed their face. Let’s see how long that lasts. I give it a week at most.

And what of you? Haku’s soul splinter asked. When will you stop caring about him?

Haku closed their eyes and exhaled slowly.

Right now.

With one last look at Max, Haku turned away. The maneuver twisted Haku’s arm awkwardly behind their back, but they didn’t care about that anymore. They couldn’t bear to look at what Max had become.

“Let me go,” Haku said sharply.

“No! Not until—”

“Until what? Until I agree with you?” Haku let out a harsh laugh. “You’re such a fool, you know that? Too stupid to see that I wasn’t just mapping the future for them.”

“What?” Max tensed, and Haku could feel it in the way his grip tightened.

“It’s like I said earlier,” Haku said bitterly. “I am trying to build a better future for people within the short lifetimes they have available to them. And you—you are only 35. Your life up to now has been short as well.”

“What are you saying?” Max said weakly.

“I was doing it for you, too.”

Max’s grip loosened, perhaps in shock, and Haku seized the opportunity to yank their wrist away. And just like that, in a flash of orange light, Haku was gone—gone before they could see the devastation on Max’s face.

~.~

Peter let out a slow breath as the vision faded. It was less violent than the previous one, and also a lot more interesting. The memory taught him nothing new about Haku, per se. Haku’s tendency toward martyrdom had not escaped Peter’s notice during his week in the pocket dimension, and given the way Haku had suggested gifting powers to random mortals for the prison break, it was hardly surprising that Haku would cut off someone they were close to for the greater good.

No, the interesting part of this memory concerned The Necromancer.

At some point after Dimension X, Karyme had mentioned in passing that The Necromancer had been trained by the Ennead, so that part wasn’t news to Peter. The Necromancer’s motivations, however—that was juicy information. When Peter had talked to The Necromancer in the prison, he had seemed to be nothing more than your garden-variety megalomaniac: obsessed with power and control. And, well, maybe that’s what he was now, but the fact that he hadn’t always been that way was something Peter could use. He decided to file that information away for later, alongside the fact that The Necromancer was apparently trying to reset the universe.

“Glasses man has issues,” Juli said weakly.

“Which one?” Peter asked. Dani and Juli both stared at him. “What? Haku and The Necromancer both wear glasses.”

“Sunglasses aren’t glasses,” Juli groaned. “Everyone knows that!”

“Oh, yeah?” Peter held out his hand and a dictionary materialized in his palm. He made a show of flipping through the pages until he reached the right page. “Sunglasses. Eyeglasses with colored or tinted lenses that protect the eyes from the glare of sunlight.”

Juli gaped at Peter. Peter flashed them a cheeky grin as he snapped the book shut.

“So you can’t materialize money, but you can summon a dictionary on demand,” Dani said flatly.

“Yep!” Peter said cheerfully. “Do you want to see the thesaurus next?”

“And how would that help?” Dani asked, glaring at Peter. “Please, enlighten me.”

“Well—”

“Going back to what I was saying before,” Juli interrupted. “When have I ever called The Necromancer glasses man?”

“You haven’t, but how was I supposed to know?” Peter said innocently. “After all, you could have been referring to Dani!”

“Oh, yeah. I guess Dani does have glasses.” Juli squinted at Dani’s face. “Have you always had those?”

“...Yes?” Dani replied. “You’re saying that like you just noticed.” For a second, the two simply stared at each other. Then, as Dani registered the growing confusion on Juli’s face, he facepalmed. “Oh my god. You actually just noticed. How is that possible?”

“Well,” Juli said sheepishly. “It just never came up…?”

“How could it—”

A gunshot rang through the air.

Dani’s quick reflexes saved any of them from serious harm. A translucent green barrier about the size of a car door sprang into existence in front of the trio, absorbing the impact of the bullet.

“What the hell?” Juli breathed.

“We need to get out of here,” Dani said through gritted teeth. “We got what we came for.”

“Right,” Juli said shakily. He held the orange teleportation crystal out in front of him and twisted the two ends away from each other. Nothing happened. A second twist yielded similar results.

Ohhhh, this is bad. Juli’s voice rang in Peter’s head, and despite the grim situation, Peter let out a sigh of relief.

Not as bad as it could be, Peter countered. The crystal’s telepathy is still working, which means it isn’t malfunctioning. Something is specifically blocking teleportation.

Like in the prison, Dani replied. I see. Karyme, can you tell us what’s going on?

Silence.

A second gunshot rang out. At first, the bullet seemed to fly along the same trajectory, but as it approached the shield, it slowed down enough that Peter could track the projectile as it curved around the shield and flew straight towards Juli’s heart.

“Shit!” Baby pink flames flared out from Juli’s form, melting the bullet. “What the hell?” They tried twisting the teleportation crystal again, but there wasn’t so much as a spark of orange.

A third gunshot. This one rammed straight into the shield with enough force to shatter it—and then the bullet kept going, and this time when Juli tried to melt it, it simply wove around their flames. Peter was ready, though. He gripped the bullet with telekinesis and pulled back until the projectile completely lost velocity. It fell to the ground with a clank.

Bullets that don’t miss, Peter said grimly. It’s Sniper.

Fuck, Dani growled. You’re right.

Sniper was a name Peter hadn’t heard since the prison break, but as a member of the mafia he had definitely become familiar with tales of her exploits. She was The Necromancer’s second-in-command, and her power was simple: unless her shots were blocked, they would not miss. Time was not in their favor here.

A fourth gunshot. Dani threw up another shield, but as soon as the barrier absorbed the hit, it fizzled out, and when Dani tried to replace it, sage green light flickered uselessly at her fingers, unwilling to bring forth another shield.

It’s not working, Dani said mutely. My powers aren’t working.

Mine feel fuzzy too, Juli said with a frown. Almost as if—

The fifth bullet lodged itself in Peter’s heart before any of them could react.

Peter couldn’t breathe. His legs gave out underneath him and he fell forward, too overcome with pain and shock to do much else. His shirt was already starting to soak through with blood, and Juli’s hands pressed firmly against his chest were doing nothing to stop that. Pain was not new to Peter, but this was more intense than anything he’d ever felt in his life—which was impressive given the number of scars he bore from stab wounds meant to kill.

Peter! Juli cried. Oh god, oh god, please stay with us—

Fuck! Dani cursed. Can you cauterize it? Peter was vaguely aware of a flash of sage green around them—a shield, maybe—but he couldn’t see more than that. As his heart rate grew slower and more irregular, his eyelids started to shut against his will.

The bullet’s still in there! Juli said sharply. I can’t—

Juli’s voice cut off abruptly as the bracelet around Peter’s wrist began to flash. Orange light filtered from the bracelet into a swirling funnel of light centered on Peter’s bullet wound, and as the light grew in intensity, Peter’s pain lessened. His heart rate started to normalize. The bleeding stopped. Peter could breathe again.

Glasses man, Juli breathed. Ohhhh, thank god.

With each radiant pulse of the orange light, the wound disappeared completely, only to slightly reopen mere seconds later, bringing with it a fresh bout of pain. It was as if the wound refused to close.

No, Peter realized with a frown. Haku just isn’t strong enough to make the spell stick.

At the very least, the wound was not staying open long enough to bleed to a dangerous degree, and Peter’s heart was still beating, so that was that. Peter was in a lot of pain, sure, but he wasn’t dead. Dying, maybe, but not dead, and Sniper was still out there, so his imminent death was only a secondary concern.

For the time being, Dani had the three of them boxed in with a shield reinforced with Juli’s flames, but it was only a matter of time before whatever was messing with their powers kicked in again. Peter took a deep breath to refocus and forced himself to sit up. The pain immediately intensified. Spots danced in Peter’s vision.

“Peter!” Dani hissed. “What are you—“

The thing that’s blocking our powers and teleportation, Peter said evenly. I know where it is.

As the words formed in Peter’s mind, he realized that he did, in fact, know where the device was. It was as if an invisible force was guiding his hand, pulling him towards a point off in the distance. Or, no, that wasn’t it.

Haku was helping Peter line up a shot.

Peter did not think a brick or knife would be able to destroy the machine, though, and when he tried to materialize something stronger, he was greeted with mere grains of sand at his fingertips. His item summoning was busted, then. That was fine, though, because—

Juli, make a knife.

Dani beat Peter to it, which was a blessing, really, because Peter’s mind was starting to go fuzzy, and he probably wouldn’t have been able to direct his thoughts appropriately.

I can’t even make a damn dice cube! Juli shot back. What makes you think I can make a knife and not have it disintegrate immediately?

Peter’s too weak to do it, Dani said thinly. And my shield isn’t going to last. It has to be you. As if to emphasize Dani’s point, Sniper fired another shot at the shield, sending cracks spiderwebbing across its surface. Juli grimaced.

Okay! Juli said, a determined look in their eye. Just—just be quick, Peter!

Peter gave Juli a weak thumbs up because, well, he had no choice but to be quick. The pain in his chest continued to wax and wane, but each wave seemed to last longer than the last. It was getting harder to breathe, now, and his vision was starting to blur. Frankly, Peter wasn’t sure how many minutes he had left in the waking world (much less the living world, but Peter wasn’t one to worry about that).

Baby pink flames flickered to life, sprouting outwards from a spot inches in front of Peter’s face. As Peter watched, tendrils of fire wrapped around one another, coalescing into the form of a throwing knife. As soon as the knife’s point was visible, Peter grasped the object with his telekinesis and sent it flying towards the device.

The knife exploded in a burst of pink flame somewhere in the distance. Peter’s consciousness had waned far enough that he couldn’t see the details. He could, however, feel his powers settle into their natural state, which meant the knife had done its job. A second later, Peter heard the click of a teleportation crystal, and this time, orange light enveloped the trio, sending them home. As soon as he felt the familiar cold of the pocket dimension floor against his cheek, Peter let himself slip the rest of the way into sleep.

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