3.1.5

Lian couldn’t get themself to cry. As they lay face down on their bed, dread and guilt and horror swirling in their chest, they felt like they should cry at least a little bit—like they owed that much to Morgan and Joshua. Crying might help relieve the stress, or at the very least, make them feel less miserable. But they couldn’t, somehow. The tears just wouldn’t come, and so Lian was left alone with their thoughts in the relative silence of their room.

A knock on the door broke the silence.

Lian stiffened. They shouldn’t have been surprised, really. With the way they had run off, they knew someone would come after them, and it was kind of hard to hide when all of them shared the same living space. The pocket dimension seemed to respond occasionally to what its denizens wanted—it was how all of them had ended up with bedrooms in the first place—but it was finicky. When Lian had fled to their bedroom after the debacle at the Yangtze River, the first thing they had tried was sealing off their bedroom door to keep everyone else out. It hadn’t worked.

And, well, maybe Lian didn’t actually want to be alone.

A second knock sounded at the door, and this time Lian sat up with a groan.

“I’m coming in,” Joshua said tentatively. Lian didn’t know if they could face him right now, but they mumbled their assent as they swung their legs over the edge of the bed. A second later, the door eased open and Joshua entered the room.

He looked… not upset, like Lian thought he’d be, but actually more… uncertain, somehow. Without the shroud of anger and irritation he normally wore, Joshua looked vulnerable. Bare. And of course he was uncomfortable, being forced to comfort the person who’d just bitten his wrist. Another wave of guilt rose in the back of Lian’s throat.

“Lian,” Joshua said hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

“I-I’ll be fine,” Lian said quickly. “I should be asking how you’re doing, actually! I’m not the one who got—”

“You’re a really bad liar.”

Lian recoiled as if they’d been struck. For a second, the words were caught in their throat, held back by indecision and guilt.

“I’m… okay,” Lian settled on. “I guess. Just a little shaken.”

“Uh-huh.” Perhaps sensing Lian’s discomfort, Joshua continued to linger near the doorway. “If you’re not going to be honest about how you feel, can you at least tell me what’s bothering you?”

Lian hesitated. They didn’t want to burden him, but at the same time, they probably needed to talk to someone about these feelings before they festered into something nasty.

“You should take a seat,” Lian said quietly, patting the area next to them on the bed. “This might take a while.” There was a split second of hesitation, and then Joshua crossed the room and sat down next to Lian without so much as a smile.

Lian took in a shuddering breath. They couldn’t bear to look at him—not yet—so they stared at their hands as the words began to tumble out of their mouth.

“I’m not sure how much you could tell from your perspective,” Lian said miserably. “But back there, on the battlefield, I wasn’t possessed or anything. I was still—it was still me, but I was just suddenly very… angry. Angry in a way I’d never been before.”

Tears welled up in Lian’s eyes as they continued.

“It was like every little thing was suddenly a cause to be mad, and being mad was suddenly a good reason to attack people,” Lian choked out. “I don’t know what would have happened if Morgan hadn’t unlocked Kai’s soul fragment. I could have seriously hurt you, and it would have been all my fault!”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Joshua said firmly. “None of this was your fault.”

“That’s not true,” Lian whispered, curling in on themself.

“And why not?” Joshua asked, arms crossed. “Please, explain to me how it was your fault that something was messing with your head.”

“That part wasn’t my fault, but I-I hurt you!” Lian cried. A sob escaped their lips. “I didn’t—I didn’t even have good reasons to attack either of you, but I did it anyway! Aren’t you upset?”

“No, I’m not, and neither is Morgan,” Joshua said, rolling his eyes. “But you’re not actually worried about that, because you’re already upset with yourself. Am I right?”

“Yes,” Lian mumbled.

“I thought so.” Joshua took a deep breath. “Seven days ago, when we were talking after Dimension X, you told me that—” Joshua swallowed. “You told me that I shouldn’t feel guilty about my father’s murder because it was an accident, an act committed to save my brother. Do you still believe that?”

“Yes,” Lian said, sitting up straight. “Of course I do.”

“So you’re saying that intent matters, then,” Joshua pressed. “And just now, on that battlefield, you didn’t intend to hurt Morgan or me, so you shouldn’t feel guilty about it. You were moved to do so by forces outside of your control.”

“Maybe that’s true,” Lian admitted. “But I should have known better! I should have been strong enough to—to—”

“To what?” Joshua interrupted. “To resist a force that’s strong enough to corrupt immortals?”

Lian froze.

“I don’t understand how you can be so smart and yet so stupid,” Joshua said thinly. “Did it never occur to you that what happened to you on that battlefield was basically identical to the aggro waves in Dimension X?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Lian sniffled. “You’re right, but—”

“Great, then we’re on the same page,” Joshua cut in. “I saw Kai get hit with one of those and even he couldn’t shake it off. From what you’ve told me, the same happened to Ven. Are you really arrogant enough to believe that you’re more capable than either of them?”

“I-I didn’t mean it like that!” Lian huffed.

“No, you didn’t,” Joshua agreed. “But that’s exactly how silly you sound. So stop beating yourself up.”

“I’m not being silly!” Lian said with a frown. Their tears were gone, replaced with mild frustration. “I just—”

“Lian.” Joshua gently tilted Lian’s chin upward with one hand, forcing Lian to look directly into his piercing green eyes. “I’m only going to say this once, so listen carefully. Take your own damn advice. It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t mean to hurt us, and Morgan and I will be fine. Stop sulking.”

As Joshua withdrew his hand, Lian’s gaze fell to the floor. What he was saying made a certain amount of sense, actually. Perhaps Lian was being too hard on themself (and it wouldn’t be the first time). Morgan would be okay. Joshua wasn’t mad at them. It didn’t do much to assuage Lian’s guilt, but it was a start.

“I guess you’re right,” Lian said quietly.

“Of course I am,” Joshua said gruffly. “You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

“Right.” Lian’s hands clenched into fists in their lap. “I don’t think I’ve fully processed what happened, but I feel better now.” They looked up at Joshua and tried their best to give him a reassuring smile. “Thank you for—for talking me through this.”

“Don’t mention it,” Joshua said dismissively. “You would have done the same for me.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t thank you, dummy!” Lian said indignantly, elbowing him. “Maybe I can treat you to coffee sometime, as a thank you.”

“There’s coffee in the kitchen,” Joshua said dumbly. Lian rolled their eyes.

“That’s not what I meant!” they huffed. “You said you wanted to get to know me better, right? So maybe, after all this is over, we can go get coffee together—just the two of us.”

“Wait.” Lian could practically see Joshua’s brain put the pieces together at the speed of the world’s oldest computer. “You mean like a date?”

“Yeah!” Lian said brightly, eyes shining. “If you wanted to, I mean.”

“I—” A tentative smile crossed Joshua’s face. “I would like that.”

“Great!” Lian grinned. “It’s a date, then!”

Lian looked at Joshua—truly looked at him for the first time since he’d entered the room. It was nice to see him like this, devoid of frown lines and furrowed brow. The soft, almost tender look in his eyes was a rare sight—one that Lian had only seen when Joshua was talking to Auster and Joel—and Lian couldn’t help but feel special that those eyes were now directed at them.

“Come on,” Joshua said abruptly. He rose to his feet, then reached out a hand towards Lian. “Aus made dinner. It would be a shame not to try some.”

Lian didn’t miss the way that Joshua relaxed as they took his hand.

~.~

Auster had just finished plating the ribs when Joshua, Lian, and Morgan returned from the Yangtze River. Before he could so much as say hello, Lian ran past the kitchen, followed by an equally distressed Joshua. Auster didn’t really know Morgan well enough to greet her, so he stayed silent as she took a seat in the living room.

Less than ten minutes later, the foyer was filled with panicked yelling as Dani and Juli rushed an unconscious, bleeding Peter into the infirmary. Auster was concerned about that, too, but they had it handled, and there wasn’t much he could do to help.

It seemed like that was becoming a pattern, lately.

Auster turned back to the stove with a heavy sigh and started adding shredded cheese to the bechamel. Without Joel around, the kitchen was quiet. At first, cooking in silence had been calming, but after watching both teams run past, the lack of noise just felt ominous, somehow, like the calm before the storm.

Luckily, he only had to stir in silence for a few minutes before Juli showed up.

“Heya,” Juli said glumly, making a beeline for the fridge. Auster stepped closer to the stove to let them pass. “How’s it going?”

“Um. Fine?” Auster replied. “Is Peter okay?”

“Yeah,” Juli said shakily. They pulled a can of soda out of the fridge. “Ilia’s healing him up, I think. He’s not up yet, but he’s out of the woods.”

“Oh,” Auster said with a smile. “That’s good.”

Peter had given Auster nothing but grief, but that didn’t mean Auster wanted him dead. Just, you know, as far away from Auster’s personal relationships as humanly possible. That would be nice.

As Auster turned to check on the colander in the sink—which was full of cooling macaroni—Juli walked over to the table and collapsed into the nearest seat with a groan. Auster shot them a look of concern. He didn’t know Juli that well, and given the day that they’d had, they probably didn’t want to talk to him right now. He would just be bothering them if he spoke. Except…

The memory of Juli sprinting past the kitchen at lunchtime, eyes wide with panic and unshed tears, flashed through his head. Juli had been so distressed after returning from Port Moresby that they had skipped lunch entirely, and while they certainly looked better now, maybe it couldn’t hurt to ask. Maybe.

“Are you okay?” Auster asked.

“No,” Juli said miserably. Their voice was partially muffled by the fact that they were now face down on the table. “Just thinking.”

“Oh.” Auster turned off the stove, then triple checked to make sure it was actually off. He didn’t know if the pocket dimension could burn down but he did not want to be the one responsible for finding out. As he transferred the macaroni from the colander to the pot of cheese sauce on the stove, Juli spoke again, nearly startling Auster into dropping everyone’s dinner on the ground.

“Say, hoodie man, what would you do if someone ruined your life and then blackmailed you into fixing their problems, and it turns out that all of that was necessary to save the world? And you want to hate that person but then you find out that they’re a victim, too?”

Auster blinked. “I, um. I don’t know.”

“Me neither!” Juli groaned again. “I want to hate Haku. I do. But like—” Juli lifted their head off of the table, opting to cradle it in their hands instead. “Dude’s been through some shit! If my little brother went insane and threw me and the rest of my family in prison I think I would be upset, too!”

“That’s, um.” Auster frowned. “Wait, what?”

“The Necromancer,” Juli clarified. “He was one of the Ennead, and—wait a second.” Juli frowned. “Do you even know who the Ennead are?”

“Oh, um, Karyme explained it to me and Joel while everyone else was gone,” Auster said quickly. “She thought it would be good to catch us up on the last couple of months.”

“Oh, good, good,” Juli said with a firm nod. “Karyme’s got the right idea. You’re part of th’ team and all, so you need to know what’s going on.”

“Am I?” Auster blurted out. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it. To hide his embarrassment, he stared intently at the mac and cheese as he stirred it, as if the pasta could save him from his mistakes.

“You live here, don’t you?” Juli said with a shrug.

“That wasn’t on purpose,” Auster said with a frown.

“I’m not living here on purpose either,” Juli pointed out. They took a sip of their soda. “You’re in the same amount of shit as the rest of us, so you may as well be one of us. And on that note—you didn’t have to spend hours making dinner. Like, I’m super glad you did, but you shouldn’t feel like ya have to.”

“It’s fine,” Auster said with a shrug. He lifted the pot of macaroni and cheese off of the stove and transferred it to the countertop behind him. “There’s, um, not much to do here, anyway.”

“There’s wifi,” Juli pointed out. “And some reading material.” They jerked a thumb towards the living room behind them. “Jinal’s diaries are a juicy read, according to Karyme.”

“I prefer stuff that’s less depressing,” Auster deadpanned. Juli cracked a grin.

“That’s fair. Sounds like Jinal’s life was kind of a drag,” Juli agreed. “But! My original point still stands. Like, that probably took a while to make, right?” Juli gestured towards the two dishes on the countertop: the previously completed platter of barbecue ribs and the cooling pot of mac and cheese.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Auster said dismissively. “And it’s the least I can do.”

“Least I can do is thank you, then.” Juli peered curiously at the platter of ribs. “This is kinda stupid, actually, considering we’re in Texas, but I’ve never actually had ribs.”

“That… is a little weird,” Auster admitted. “It’s pretty common. I think the first time I had them was because of Josh, though.”

“Oh, so it’s one of bird man’s favorite foods, huh,” Juli said slyly. They wiggled their eyebrows. “You tryna impress him, or…?”

Auster groaned and covered his face with his hands. Juli started to laugh.

“I’m just kidding! Or, well, I know that’s not what you were doing,” Juli said quickly. “Buuut, Peter did tell me you had a thing for ‘ol pigeon pal.”

All of Auster’s previous sympathy for Peter evaporated in that moment.

“Why is he telling people that?” Auster grumbled.

“Dunno,” Juli said with a shrug. “But I’m not gonna tell anyone, so you don’t gotta worry about me spreading your secret. With Peter on the loose, my silence might not matter, but I’m not gonna leave you hangin’ like that.”

“Great,” Auster said flatly. “Thanks.”

Auster had no desire to speak further on the subject than that, so he was relieved when the others started filtering into the kitchen for dinner. It gave him an excuse to set out drinks and cups.

Normally, dinner was a noisy affair, filled with chatter and chaos that, more often than not, overwhelmed Auster. Today was the polar opposite of that. Everyone served themselves in relative silence, broken only by the occasional greeting here and there. It was as if a cloud of gloom had descended over the pocket dimension. Even Lian, who normally greeted Auster with the brightest of smiles, seemed a little subdued as they grabbed their plate.

Auster waited until the stream of people entering the pocket dimension came to a halt before putting a plate together for himself. Ilia, Peter, and Dani were still missing, but Auster figured that had something to do with Peter’s injury, so it seemed silly to wait for them.

“Damn, Auster, this is good!” Joel addressed Auster with a smile as he slid into the seat next to Joel. “I didn’t know you could cook like this!”

“Um, thanks,” Auster said haltingly, trying to figure out how to address the back-handed compliment Joel had just given him. “Glad you like it.”

“‘Like’ is probably understating it,” Joshua said with a weary smile. “After the day we’ve had, this—this really means a lot. Thanks for the meal, Aus.”

“Oh, um. You’re welcome.”

As Auster took in the gratitude in Joshua’s gaze, he felt his brain short circuit. Auster hadn’t always been so easily flustered around Joshua, but now that Peter had made Auster acknowledge his feelings, every conversation with Joshua felt like navigating a minefield. Not only was Auster more aware of Joshua’s presence—he was also keenly aware of what could happen if he fucked up and Joshua found out how he felt.

Auster was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of Juli’s voice.

“Hey, Karyme,” Juli said slowly, fidgeting with their hands. Their plate of food remained practically untouched. “How much d’you know about The Necromancer?”

“I know… some things, I guess,” Karyme said, raising an eyebrow. “Most of it is gleaned from Jinal’s journals, but I did pick up on some things when we met face to face. Why?”

“Somethin’ in one of Haku’s memories didn’t make sense to me,” Juli said with a frown. “And I figured you might know the answer. See, it was—Haku and The Necromancer were talking, and The Necromancer mentioned that he—well, it sounded like he never wanted t’ be immortal in the first place.”

“He didn’t.”

Auster jumped. He hadn’t even noticed Ilia enter the kitchen until she spoke.

Ilia crossed the kitchen and slid into the seat next to Morgan without grabbing a plate of food. She looked more tired than the last time Auster had seen her, but more put-together, too, as if the initial shock of starting the soul hunt had finally passed.

“How’s Peter?” Juli asked.

“Peter?” Lian asked, eyes wide. “What happened to Peter?”

“Shot through the heart,” Juli said dully, moving his macaroni around with his fork. “Glasses man saved his ass through the bracelet.”

“What?” Lian said weakly.

“You heard me.” Juli grimaced. “We ran into Sniper, and that bitch had some sorta machine that blocked our connection to the pocket dimension. It’s pure luck that we managed to get out.”

“This is what I was afraid of,” Joshua said roughly. “The Necromancer knows where we’re going and he’s sending his lackeys to head us off.”

“I’m not so sure,” Karyme said evenly. “I didn’t see Sniper there until after Peter grabbed Haku’s soul fragment, and then the feed cut off completely, which means it’s likely that The Necromancer didn’t know that Haku’s soul fragment was up there until Peter made contact.”

“So touching the soul fragment sent off a signal flare?” Morgan asked. Karyme nodded.

“Great,” Joshua said through gritted teeth. “So we just have to be quick once we get the soul fragments, even though the visions make that impossible. This completely fixes everything.”

The group settled into uneasy silence.

None of them had ever been under the illusion that they were safe, per se, but Peter’s injury brought the very real danger into sharp focus. The Soul Stealers were after them—all of them—and they were going to be hard-pressed to get out of this alive.

Auster took another miserable bite of meat. He felt like he was helplessly watching Joshua march to his death, but at least he’d gotten the damn sauce right.

“Peter is fine, by the way,” Ilia said wearily, sinking deeper into her chair. “The piece of Haku Peter was carrying with him was able to keep him alive long enough for me to heal the wound. Which isn’t something I’ve ever done before, so it left a scar, but I don’t think he’ll care.”

“He won’t,” Morgan said, popping a bite of mac and cheese in their mouth. “You did your best.”

“Dani’s still with him?” Karyme asked. Ilia nodded.

“It looked like the two of them needed to have a talk,” Ilia explained, “so I let them be.”

“That’s good,” Rae said wryly. “Those two have some things to work out.”

“No kidding,” Juli groaned. “I swear those two have been using me as a ping pong ball for their weird mind games all day. Like, it was probably unintentional on Dani’s part, but it was still. God.”

“Um, not to interrupt,” Joel interjected, looking at Ilia. “But you were going to talk about The Necromancer. About his immortality, I mean.”

“Oh. Right.” Ilia took a deep breath. “I told most of you when we first met that my power—it comes from the same place as the Ennead’s. The same place as The Necromancer’s, too. It’s why everything he does to hurt them also ends up hurting me. But I don’t think anyone ever explained what that original source was.”

“Yaran?” Lian guessed. “I’ve heard that name a few times now, but I still have no idea what that means. I just remember hearing about Yaran’s curse.”

“The power of immortality does come from Yaran’s curse,” Ilia said with a nod. “But that isn’t the whole story. It traces back to the beginning of the universe, actually, which—I’m going to sound like a religious fanatic for a minute, but just bear with me.”

Ilia placed a hand on the table, palm up, and a hologram of sorts sprang to life above the dining table, portraying the solar system in translucent royal blue. Auster felt like he was watching a science documentary.

“The big bang theory is accurate, more or less,” Ilia said evenly. “But that wasn’t the beginning.” The solar system shrank into the palm of a floating blue hand. “At the beginning, there was Karai—a goddess with infinite power. She used her power to plot the course of the universe from start to finish, and to help manage her creations, she created an assistant: Yaran.”

From the blue hand sprang forth the solar system once again, but this time with a nebulous black cloud alongside it. Beside the solar system, a timeline stretched in both directions, marked with evenly spaced humanoid stick figures.

“To assist Yaran in his purpose, Karai chose twenty-five of her creations across time and space and gifted them a portion of her power,” Ilia continued. “These twenty-five prophets—Karai’s chosen ones—were meant to guide things along the proper route. Or, um, that’s what Jinal told me, anyway. She was the only one to ever meet Karai in person.”

“What?” Lian blurted out. “Why?”

“Because of what happened next,” Ilia said with a weary smile. “Yaran grew tired of his role. He decided to claim Karai’s chosen ones as his own soldiers in a bid to dethrone her. To do this, he cursed each of Karai’s chosen ones with a fragment of his power with the hope that he could use this connection to possess and control them. In the meantime, he began to wage war on Karai.”

The blue color leached from the stick figures, leaving behind two-toned figurines, colored half blue and half black. The blue hand began to shrink.

“Karai was not strong enough to withstand Yaran’s onslaught forever,” Ilia continued. “And she knew this. As soon as Jinal was of age, Karai explained everything to Jinal, and when Yaran tried to possess Jinal, Karai funneled the last of her power into Jinal to keep her alive. From that point on, Jinal spent her life fleeing from Yaran.”

“Of age,” Karyme interjected, “was around fourteen years old.”

“Fourteen?” Lian gasped. “She was on the run from an evil god as a kid?”

“Haku’s powers awakened even earlier than that,” Juli said glumly. “They died when they were nine.”

Auster swallowed. At fourteen years of age, he was too stupid to bake brownies from boxed mix. At age nine, he was still trying to figure out how to kick a soccer ball.

“That’s apparently normal,” Ilia said miserably. “In its natural state, the curse awakens whenever a person feels like their life is in danger. Jinal has dedicated most of her life to finding Karai’s chosen ones before they are born and then suppressing their powers until they are ready to, y’know, deal with it.”

“Wait,” Rae said slowly. “You said Karai chose twenty five people. Where are the rest?”

“Dead,” Ilia said simply. The holographic stick figures began to blink out of existence one by one until only eleven remained: nine near the beginning, and two near the end.

“All of them chose to die, for what it’s worth,” Karyme added. “Whenever they felt ready to pass on, they would ask Jinal or the other members of the Ennead to kill them. Apparently eternal life kinda sucks.”

“Eternal life with the curse kinda sucks,” Ilia said sourly. “And the Ennead knew that. They figured out how to suppress someone’s powers over the long term, and they started asking each person if they wanted to gain powers or live normally. Most people chose the latter.”

Ilia’s gaze fell to their hands. “I never got that choice. Neither did The Necromancer, apparently—he was attacked by Yaran and his powers awakened in self defense.” Ilia gave a wan smile. “I think you can guess what happened to me.”

“The Necromancer tried to kill you,” Morgan hissed. Their voice was filled with a thinly veiled anger that matched their menacing glare.

“Yeah,” Ilia said bitterly. “And because of him, I’m now forced to live with it, because if I die, he’ll use my soul to control humanity or whatever.”

“No,” Juli said quietly. “No, he won’t.”

“What?” Joshua said tightly. “What do you mean?”

“He won’t stop there,” Juli said shakily. “In—in the vision we got today, of Haku and The Necromancer talking, he told Haku that he was trying to reset the universe.”

“What?” Ilia squeaked. The holograms above the table fizzled out. “How?”

“Dunno. It was like—” Juli frowned. “I think I gotta explain more about what I actually saw for it to make sense. Y’see, the vision we got from Haku’s second fragment was actually two memories from the same spot, a few years apart. In the first one, The Necromancer was just a normal dude. Or, like, a normal dude with Yaran’s curse. But he wasn’t evil yet.”

“In the second memory,” Juli continued, “he had definitely cut ties with the Ennead, but it was—it had just happened, I think. It was Haku’s goodbye to The Necromancer. Neither of them said it, but it sounded t’me like The Necromancer absorbed Yaran into himself. Or something. And somehow doin’ that gave him a shot at resetting the universe.”

“Oh,” Karyme breathed. “I think I get it. It took all of Karai’s power to create the universe, right? So if you were to steal the souls of the remaining chosen ones and assemble all of Karai’s and Yaran’s power in one place again, it stands to reason that you could remake the universe, too, the same way Karai originally did.”

“But why?” Rae asked. “He’s already got a pretty good deal in this universe, doesn’t he? He has money, power, control—it feels like he’s already constructed his own paradise.”

“He was trying to give them a fresh start,” Juli said miserably. “The Ennead, and himself, too. He wanted to give them a universe without curses and gods.”

“That’s a little ironic, isn’t it?” Joshua let out a mirthless laugh. “He wants to become a god to create a future without gods. He’s becoming the very thing he set out to destroy.”

“I guess—I’m still a little confused,” Lian said with a frown. “Wanting to get rid of the curse—that makes sense. But if Yaran and Karai are gone, aren’t we already living in a world without gods?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Rae said coolly. “Karai and Yaran—we call them gods because of the immense power they had, and because of the ways they tinkered with mortals, foisting responsibilities and powers onto their pawns without consent. And if you ask me…” Rae leaned back in xyr seat. “That sounds a little familiar.”

“That’s not—” Lian frowned. “The Ennead is trying to make up for it!”

“I don’t disagree,” Rae said dryly. “But nice gods are still gods.”

The group settled into an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the clank of silverware as everyone ate. Auster’s appetite was long gone. All of this was so far above his head. He hadn’t even been chosen by these so-called gods—he’d just offered to help a friend in need, and now he was part of this, too. Despite that, Auster didn’t regret helping Joshua one bit, and given the chance, he would make the same choice a second time—albeit with a little more time to pack his stuff up.

“So!” Karyme said abruptly. “As far as plans for tomorrow! Ilia, do you feel well enough to join one of the groups?”

“Oh, um, yeah,” Ilia said with a nod. “I think I can help out now. I’m not achieving much by sitting around here.”

“You can come with us,” Morgan suggested. “If you want to, I mean.”

“Are we sure that’s wise?” Rae asked. Morgan glared at Rae with enough intensity to wilt a tree, but he was completely unfazed. “Peter might be weaker on his feet for a bit, so the other team might need more help.”

“Actually,” Ilia said evenly. “I disagree. Haku was able to save Peter because of their unique power, but I don’t think Kai can do the same. I can heal, though, so if something were to happen…” She trailed off, eyes trained on the table.

“You say that like you know what’s coming,” Joshua said thinly.

“I—” Ilia took a deep breath. “I guess I do.” She looked Joshua straight in the eye. “Your group is going to get attacked next. Tomorrow morning, I mean.”

Auster’s blood ran cold. He knew Joshua was strong. He knew Joshua could handle himself. But when Auster closed his eyes, all he could see was Peter’s blood-soaked shirt as he was carried into the infirmary.

“So you have a handle on your future sight now?” Morgan asked.

“It’s not—I can’t see very much,” Ilia admitted, squirming in her seat. “I guess I’m too close to all of you. And The Necromancer is way stronger than me, so I can’t see anything he does at all.”

“But you can tell that he’s gonna attack them?” Joel asked, cocking his head to the side. “That’s kinda weird.”

“I can’t focus my future sight on The Necromancer, but that doesn’t extend to his lackeys,” Ilia explained. “Since The Necromancer isn’t going to attack them personally, I can see it clearly. What I can’t do is tell you what’s most likely to happen.”

“This just gets better and better,” Joshua muttered under his breath.

“Hey!” Morgan snapped, turning their ire on Joshua. “I want to see you do better! Reading the future probably isn’t easy!”

“It’s not,” Ilia said bluntly. Thousands of glowing blue lines shot out of Ilia’s palm, twirling around each other to form what looked like a tangled ball of silly string. “This is about one tenth of the timelines I can see.”

“Shit,” Rae breathed, eyes wide. “That’s intimidating.”

“How can you even sift through all of that?” Lian murmured. “That could take weeks.”

“Probably longer than that,” Karyme chimed in. “There’s a reason Haku is always combing through the future.”

“The only reason I can see tomorrow morning’s attack is because it’s the first thing that pops up when I look at Lian,” Ilia said miserably. With a wave of their hand, the timelines faded from view. “Jinal never got around to teaching me how to interpret the future. There wasn’t enough time.”

“So you’re only useful for immediate warning,” Joshua said thinly. “Great.”

“Would it kill you to be nice to Ilia? She’s doing her best!” Morgan growled, slamming both hands on the table. Auster flinched at the sound.

“I never said she wasn’t,” Joshua said evenly, arms crossed. “I’m just stating the facts.”

“Well—”

“Please stop,” Ilia said wearily, holding out an arm in front of Morgan to prevent her from trying to lunge across the table towards Joshua. “Fighting over something like this isn’t going to change anything.”

“Ilia’s right,” Karyme said calmly. “The important thing now is that we know a little bit about what’s going to happen tomorrow. We should focus on planning for the worst.”

Morgan sank back into their seat, but they continued to glare at Joshua the whole time. Joshua returned her glare, and for a second, Auster thought he felt the air pressure drop. Then, Ilia placed a hand on Morgan’s arm, and the feeling was gone.

Auster shuddered. Morgan had already been on his list of people to be careful around, but now her name was in bold and italics and also bright red. He hadn’t even done anything to piss her off yet, but as he finished off his ribs, he decided that it would probably be best to watch his back, just in case.

~.~

“You didn’t have to wait for me to wake up.”

Dani almost fell out of his chair. He hadn’t expected Peter to wake up so quickly. He knew Peter wasn’t dead. He knew that. But Peter had been so lifeless and bloodied when the trio had returned to the pocket dimension,, and even after the shirt had been ripped away and the wound had been closed and the blood had been cleaned off, his breaths had still been so shallow.

Peter looked perfectly fine now, though. He was still shirtless, since they hadn’t been able to salvage the one he’d been wearing, and his breaths still seemed a little hesitant—perhaps to avoid phantom pains from the still-healing injury—but his eyes were alert.

“I wasn’t worried about you, if that’s what you're thinking,” Dani sniffed, looking away. “I knew you would pull through.”

“Okay.” Peter cocked his head to the side. “So what did you want to talk about then?”

“Who said I wanted to talk about anything?” Dani said coolly.

“Why else would you still be here?” Peter shot back.

“I—” Dani took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She was not here to pick a fight. “I wanted to apologize.”

“Seriously?” Peter frowned. “It wasn’t your fault that I got hit.”

“I know,” Dani replied. “I’m not apologizing for that.”

“Oh? Then what are you apologizing for?” Peter asked, raising an eyebrow. “Being a yodeling hater?”

Dani shot Peter a dirty look. “I’m not apologizing for that, either. Yodeling is stupid.”

“Suuuure it is,” Peter said with a shit-eating grin. “So, what is it then?”

“It’s—” Dani sighed. “Do you remember when we first met four years ago? The joint mission?”

Peter’s grin faded. “Yeah, why?”

The memory was not a good one. Dani and Peter had been on separate teams in the same branch of the Company at that point, but they had been paired together for a high-profile mission. Peter’s team had been in charge of gathering intel, and Dani’s team had been in charge of field action. The mission had taken six months to put together, but that planning had quickly fallen apart on the day of. The intel had been flawed, and that mistake had led to the capture of every single person involved—except for Peter, who turned tail and ran.

“I know why you ran,” Dani said evenly. “I know that you alerted the higher ups, and an extraction team was put together, and that’s the only reason I’m still alive. But for the longest time, I still resented you for running. I hated you for leaving us behind.”

“Understandable,” Peter said with a shrug. “Getting captured didn’t turn out great for you.”

“No, it didn’t.” Dani grimaced. “But that was four whole years ago, and you had your reasons. When we started the prison break last month, I should have left all that behind. But I-I couldn’t. I couldn’t see you as anything other than selfish and irredeemable. I couldn’t trust you.”

“But you’re—” Dani hesitated, struggling to find the right words. He didn’t know how to describe what he liked about Peter, so he switched tacks. “It takes a lot to get shot through the heart and still keep your head in the game. That kind of mental strength is insane. But you—you were staying focused so you could get me and Juli out of there safely, weren’t you?”

“Of course,” Peter said calmly. “It would have been bad for everybody if Sniper got all three of our bracelets.”

“And that’s my point,” Dani said firmly. “Ever since that day four years ago, I thought you couldn’t be trusted because you were always thinking in your own interests. But that’s not true. You’re always thinking about the bigger goal. You might be full of shit, but you’re not selfish.”

“I’m sorry for misjudging you,” Dani apologized, making eye contact with Peter. “I’ve been unfair to you. But you have my trust now, and I’m going to try to do better.”

“Okay,” Peter said simply. “Sounds good to me.”

“Okay?” Dani swallowed. “That’s all you have to say?”

“If you’re looking for forgiveness, I can’t really give you that, because it never bothered me in the first place,” Peter said dismissively. “You were being unfair, maybe, but I didn’t really care.”

“How is that even possible?” Dani said with a frown. “I was horrible to you.”

“Well, you can’t really hold a grudge against someone if you’re going to be on a team with them,” Peter explained. “It gets in the way of proper teamwork, and without proper teamwork, we could die. So, I decided I wasn’t going to let your attitude bother me, because that could hurt the team.”

Dani gaped at Peter. She knew Peter was always thinking practically, but to be this detached was so—it was impressive, and Dani had to admit that she was a little jealous.

“You’re insane,” Dani said finally. “I don’t get how you can forgive so easily, but I’m not going to question it.”

“Great!” Peter grinned. “If we’re done with that, can we go get dinner now? I’m starving!”

“You should probably put on a shirt first,” Dani pointed out.

“Oh, huh.” Peter looked down at his chest with a frown. The only sign that Peter had ever been shot was a small circular scar. It wasn’t indented or jagged like any of Peter’s other scars—it was nice and neat and clean.

“I liked my old shirt,” Peter lamented. He cupped his hands and an almost identical black T shirt popped into existence. “It’s kind of a shame.”

“Whatever, dude,” Dani replied, rolling his eyes. “You should hurry up. I bet they didn’t leave any food for you.”

“That would be unfortunate,” Peter said solemnly, slipping the shirt on. “But not cataclysmic. I can materialize instant ramen, you know.”

“Right,” Dani said dryly. He held out a hand for Peter to hold onto as the younger boy stumbled out of bed. “Is the ramen mustard flavored?”

“You know it!” Peter let go of Dani’s hand. “It probably also tastes worse than whatever Auster made!”

“Probably,” Dani agreed. “But that’s sort of a low bar. Auster’s food is good.”

The pair started to walk towards the kitchen. Peter’s gait was a little unstable at first—he’d lost a lot of blood, after all, and Ilia’s healing couldn’t fix that—but after a few steps, Peter was able to gain his balance.

When Peter and Dani arrived in the kitchen, almost everyone was still sitting around the table. There were only two exceptions. Auster was standing at the sink, washing some of the dirty dishes, and Morgan was holding a plate, a knife, and a fork over the trash can, as if she were about to throw the (ceramic) dishes away. The others were caught up in the usual chatter, to the point that no one had noticed the crime Morgan was about to commit.

“Morgan,” Dani said flatly. “What are you doing?” The kitchen immediately fell silent, and suddenly all eyes were on Morgan.

“Cleaning up my dishes?” Morgan turned towards the kitchen entrance with a frown. “Why, is something wrong?”

“Most people clean their dishes in the sink,” Joshua said sardonically. “And not, you know, the trash can.”

“What?” Morgan gave Joshua a blank stare. “Isn’t that too much effort?”

“Morgan,” Rae sighed. “When dishes are too much effort, you usually leave them in the sink. Which brings me back to Dani’s initial question: why are you throwing away your dishes?”

“Leaving them in the sink means someone else has to wash them later, and that seems like a lot of work,” Morgan said with a shrug. “So I was going to toss them.”

A horrified silence hung in the air.

Peter was a hard person to crack. He rarely seemed bothered by anything, no matter how gruesome or traumatic or off-putting. Even getting shot in the heart hadn’t shattered his composure. The expression on his face right now, though, was a mix of open horror and disgust.

“Wait, wait, back up,” Karyme said slowly. “You didn’t want to wash the dishes, so you were going to throw them away. Am I getting this right?”

“Yes?” Morgan replied, their expression completely genuine. “Why else would I be standing near the trash can?”

“Oh my god,” Karyme groaned. “Oh my god, you’re serious. I thought you were just doing it for the bit, but you were actually seriously about to toss your dishes in the trash.”

“And suddenly our shrinking amount of silverware for the last week makes sense,” Rae sighed.

“I’m confused,” Morgan said with a frown. “Is that not normal?”

“No,” Lian said weakly, standing up quickly enough that their chair screeched against the floor. “No, no, no, that is not normal. How are we supposed to eat tomorrow if you throw away our dishes?”

“I can make more,” Peter said sharply. “That’s not the issue! Throwing stuff away is so wasteful!”

“Oh, huh, I didn’t think about Peter’s power,” Morgan said thoughtfully, stroking their chin. “I was just thinking we could buy more. How much can dishes cost, anyway?”

“Who cares what dishes cost!” Juli cried. “No one has enough money to—” Juli cut off abruptly as they realized who they were talking to. “Ah. Right. Your jacket probably cost more than my monthly rent. I understand now.”

“That’s not true!” Morgan argued, gesturing to their red leather jacket. “This only cost a couple thousand dollars!”

Juli paled. “That’s four months of rent! I didn’t even know they made jackets that expensive!”

“Only four months of rent for you, huh,” Peter said wistfully. He made his way over to the kitchen counter to grab some food, and Dani followed. “That would have been five months of rent for me, by the way.”

“What kind of shitty housing were you living in?” Dani asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, you know,” Peter said nonchalantly. He scooped a heaping spoonful of macaroni and cheese onto his plate. “The kind run by an exploitative landlord.”

“That’s all of them,” Rae said flatly.

“Exactly!” Peter said cheerfully, giving a thumbs up. “Glad you understand.”

“Well—” Morgan stammered. “Joshua has an expensive jacket, too!”

“Joshua also has a job,” Joshua said thinly. “And my jacket wasn’t even one third of the cost of yours, so don’t drag me into this.”

“That’s not—”

“Just put the dishes in the goddamn sink like a normal person,” Joshua snapped, cutting Morgan off. “And one of us will wash them, since you clearly don’t know how.”

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