"Hey Wangnan, have you seen the picture on the Box?" Miseng looked up at him, tugging at his sleeve, but Wangnan didn't even stir from his barstool. After being forced into baby-sitting duty, he'd decided that the bar was the only responsible place to be. After all, he was responsible for his own well-being, and some drinks would definitely help with that.

He gave the bar another cursory glance, then grinned. This was a definite step up from the dingy bars on the 20th floor, where the drinks were topped with a heaping serving of dust from the crumbling walls. Here, a lazy river sparkled in the daylight as it curved around the bar, and a slight breeze wafted through the pool area. As he swirled his martini in his cup, drinking in the beautiful scenery, Miseng tugged his sleeve again. "Wangnan?"

"Yeah?" he said, taking another gulp of martini.

"Look at this!" She turned her phone to him, but Wangnan didn't bother looking. It was probably another picture of Yura Ha. Miseng was obsessed with that idol. "Emily shared it with me!" Miseng added, not seeming to notice that Wangnan was still staring at the wave pool. "It's a picture of Viole—"

With a sigh, he tore his gaze away from the pool.

Then he promptly spat out his drink. It was Viole, all right — in fact, it was Viole and Endorsi Jahad behind a waterfall. Wangnan sputtered, snatching the phone and zooming in. The image was grainy, but it was definitely the Slayer Candidate and the Princess of Jahad sitting together in a snug little cave. This is insane, he thought, squinting at the two of them, who were smiling at each other. Whoever photographed this had guts.

He zoomed back out, wondering if he could figure out who snapped this photo, when the number at the bottom of the screen jumped out at him. "Holy shit," he muttered. If that number was correct, then the picture had ten million shares in five minutes.

Khun was probably having an aneurysm.

He grinned, then started scrolling through the comments. They were filled with speculation: the phrases 'opposites attract' and 'star-crossed lovers' were repeated multiple times. At first, he chuckled, then his stomach dropped and his grip on the phone tightened. Viole, that lucky bastard… 'enemies-to-lovers-slowburn' was supposed to be my thing with her!

He passed the phone back to Miseng, then scowled at the counter. How will she notice me when Viole's already caught her attention? But… He stroked a non-existent beard, his scowl fading. If they get closer… I'll have a foot in the door later.

He straightened. "This calls for a celebration!" he shouted, waving a hand at the grizzled old bartender. "Yo, another martini and a sake for the kid!"

"Um, Goseng told me that I wasn't old enough to drink—mmph." Her words were cut short as Wangnan covered her mouth.

"Look, kid," he said, clapping her on the back, "age is kinda wacky in the Middle Area, so don't worry about it. After all, alcohol is the lifeblood of us Regulars!" The bartender plunked the two glasses in front of them, and Wangnan grinned. "Thanks, old man!"

The bartender didn't answer, but he grunted as he walked away.

Miseng looked at Wangnan, then at the bartender, then at the glass, and then pulled out her phone and began typing into Emily.

Wangnan just grinned and clinked his glass against the counter. Despite baby-sitting duty, he was free to pursue his own happiness: namely, good liquor and the thought that, in the near future, he might meet Princess Endorsi Jahad. He was mulling over the possibilities, enjoying the sweet and sour margarita, when someone jostled his arm.

His drink sloshed in his glass, just barely not-spilling, and Wangnan was understandably annoyed. "Bruh," he said, twisting in his stool. "Watch where you're going. Didn't anyone teach you to tread lightly around the future king of the Tower?"

The perpetrator, a Regular in a neon orange hoodie, squinted at him. "The future king of the Tower? That sounds interesting enough to buy a drink for you." He signalled to the bartender, then slid into the closest barstool. "The name's Dann."

Wangnan put his drink down, then took a closer look at 'Dann'. He seemed fairly average, and with a name like 'Dann'... If it was real, they were probably in the same boat. "I'm Wangnan, and that's my teammate, Miseng." Wangnan pointed at the two of them, and since Misng didn't look up from her phone, Wangnan continued, "I'm supposed to be babysitting, so I thought a bar was as good a place as any."

Dann glanced at the untouched sake in front of Miseng, then burst into laughter. "Yes, yes, of course. A bar is a perfect place for a kid." A couple piña coladas arrived, and he took a moment to pass one to Wangnan before saying, "In all honesty, though, your babysitting seems easy." He snorted. "I have to cook, clean, and basically slave away for not one, but two Princesses of Jahad."

Dann paused, evidently waiting for some type of reaction, but Wangnan only chilled with his drink. He could sympathize with a man who was only the supporting actor.

"Yeesh," Wangnan said, taking a long gulp from his glass before sighing. "But hey, at least you're on their team. I've always wanted to meet Princess Endorsi."

Dann shrugged, finishing a piña colada before saying, "Yeah, me too, but she's a real bitch. Still… she's the reason why I left the 21st Floor, and I don't regret it. It just…" He sighed, then shook his head. "It just really drags, how everyone is always watching us. You can almost feel the pressure from her sisters."

"Yeah…" Wangnan nodded as well, barely noticing that Miseng left to go 'find a hiding spot'. After he drank her untouched sake, he ordered a pitcher of beer for himself and his new friend. "I know what you mean. I have a teammate too, Viole — you've probably heard of him."

Wangnan paused to let Dann react, but Dann only shrugged. "Yeah, Viole, the Slayer Candidate. My team has a bone to pick with him, but you seem like a decent guy." He raised his glass and gestured vaguely at him.

"Well, anyways," Wangnan said, pouring himself and Dann a good amount of beer, "Viole… he's a good guy. You wouldn't expect it, but he's always there to help us. But, I don't have enough power to help him back, y'know?"

Dann nodded sagely. For a bit, they both drank in silence, staring at the same spot in the distance, and then Dann spat, "Goddamnit Shibisu." In a blur of motion, his new friend was gone.

Wangnan blinked. Then he peered over the bar. After finding Dann, he squinted at that spot in the distance and saw an average-looking guy in a white shirt. Well, a white and yellow shirt. It looked like he'd spilled a drink or something. "C'mon," Wangnan said, leaning over the bar again. "You're afraid of that guy? I bet we could take him."

Dann, half-crouched behind the bar, purposely hid himself behind some bottles. "Look," he hissed, "my life would be ve-e-ery uncomfortable if he sees me with you, alright?"

Wangnan only shook his head and laughed. "Alright. If you say so." He went back to nursing his drink and enjoying the view, only to spot a guy with a floating wing.

It felt like he'd been struck by lightning. That guy from the enemy team — he was supposed to be really really powerful—

Shit.

With a clumsy hop and a wriggle, he managed to get over the bar, knocking over a couple glasses in the process. "Sorry," he mouthed as he fell, rolling and raising his arms to protect his face. As expected, the glasses hit the ground and shattered, sending sharp fragments into his skin. It hurt, but not as much as Dann's snickering.

Wangnan shot him a wounded look, and with whatever dignity he could muster, he sniffed, "I-I thought you might be lonely, by yourself, behind the bar."

"Yeah. Sure." Dann snorted, and after a cautious glance, he stood. "Nice shirt, by the way."

Wangnan grinned. "Thanks. It matches my hair and my eyes." He glanced around, then resigned himself to cleaning up the shattered glass… but he wouldn't do it alone. At this point, Dann was practically his blood brother, so a little guilt-tripping couldn't hurt.

As they swept up the glass, Wangnan snuck another look at Casano. The guy was walking away with another winged guy, and at the sight, a chill ran down his spine. Those guys were bad news.

Thank goodness that Casano didn't see him.

"Who does that guy think he's fooling?" Casano muttered, his gaze landing somewhere over Horyang's shoulder. After thirty years, that was the first thing his brother said to him — if Horyang didn't count the terse text that had led him to the Workshop Battle.

Still, Horyang smiled. "Casano, are you sure…?"

Casano grunted, then started walking to the elevators. Although he didn't spare a glance back, he didn't need to: Horyang still followed. They were going to Ms. Sophia, and nothing would stop Horyang from seeing her again.

It's like… Horyang struggled for a metaphor. It's like there's a string on my heart, pulling me to her. As he stepped into the elevator, his wing flickered white. Please… he thought, as long as she hasn't changed…

If he were religious, he would have prayed. As it was, he fumbled with the buttons on his coat, turning them over and over in his hands and staring at the dull gold as the elevator carried him towards her. When the doors opened, Casano stepped out and Horyang followed. Together, they made their way to an unassuming door.

Horyang looked at it, then took a deep breath.

If Casano was telling the truth, that flimsy piece of metal was the only thing standing between them and their shared past. The two brothers — bonded not by blood, but by spirits — stood awkwardly, each looking only at the button.

Then Casano reached out, threw the door open, and strode inside.

The light—

This time, Horyang did not follow. The moment the door opened, he saw the white light, white walls, and white lab coats. So many memories, all slowly forgotten over the course of thirty years, came rushing back… and each and every one of them centered around one person—

One person—

Her.

She was standing in the lab, turning to the door. She had the same ponytail, the same smile, and the same soft voice that asked, "Ilmar?"

Unbidden, his eyes widened and he remembered a different time.

"Ilmar?" Ms. Sophia wiped away his tears, then smiled down at him. "Listen to me. A man shouldn't cry. You have to be strong enough to protect others." When he looked up at her, she patted his head. "You have that power, got it?"

He rubbed his eyes, silently drying his tears. Then he nodded. "I'll be the strongest person ever, and I'll never cry again."

She grinned. "Good. So, when you're super-strong, who do you want to protect?"

"Um…" He shuffled his feet, suddenly shy, and didn't answer. However, he already knew. The one person he wanted to protect… she was standing there in front of him.

"Ilmar?" Someone touched his arm, and he started.

"M-Ms. Sophia?" he stammered. She was standing in front of him, but she was so much smaller than he remembered.

"Ilmar, why are you just standing there?" she said, chiding him gently as always. "Come in."

He scooped her up in a big hug, small tears in his eyes. "Ms. Sophia—" he said, his voice choked. "I— I've missed you."

She patted his head, Horyang smiled, and behind them—

Behind them, Casano merely watched.

After bidding adieu to Ms. Sophia, Horyang sat alone in the shopping area. Streams of Regulars passed him by, laughing and talking, but he was silent. Casano had left him long ago, but that wasn't why he felt so numb: he was thinking of Beta. Down in the lab, he had met his newest brother… or, as he'd heard Casano mutter, Ms. Sophia's latest weapon.

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

It had been hard not to notice the sloppy bandages, the dangling IV line, or the unprecedented amount of power emanating from the boy. He was a Living Ignition Weapon, another result from the same twisted experiment. Beta had looked normal enough, but the way he'd smiled had sent chills down Horyang's spine. He wasn't sure why, but somehow he knew that Beta was more broken than himself or Casano.

And yet, Ms. Sophia had smiled when she'd introduced him.

He could only hope that Ms. Sophia was helping the boy like she had helped himself and Casano.

His thoughts were interrupted by a growl and a sharp poke. When he turned, he was unsurprised to find a certain crocodile, but he smiled anyways.

The crocodile crossed his arms. "Why do you look so droopy? Are you not getting the right nutrition?"

"I— What?"

"Stop avoiding me," he sniffed. "It's time to meet the rest of my turtles."

The Archimedes Hospital was a tiny building, only a few stories tall and hardly larger than a swimming pool. Its staff were patient and kind, the treatment speedy, and yet the majority of its beds were empty. Oftentimes, a limping Regular would reach the front desk, exchange a few words with the receptionist, then leave. However, that was only to be expected when a simple 15 minute visit cost enough to feed a family in the Middle Area for an entire year.

Thankfully, Bam hadn't needed to decide between his friend and his bank account. When the receptionist stated the price, he didn't bat an eye; instead, he transferred the funds and stepped inside. Not everyone could pay for world-class treatment, but as FUG's Slayer Candidate, points were the least of his troubles.

And this purchase had been well worth the price.

In the center of the courtyard, sitting near the fountain's edge, was Khun. A simple bandage was wrapped around his head, but he was already leaning over his lighthouse and typing furiously. Only 10 hours had passed since Anak's point-blank punch, but through a combination of Khun genetics, expert medical care, and luck, his friend was healed.

"Mr. Khun!" he called, waving a hand. The last time he'd visited, Khun had only been well enough to receive the White Heavenly Mirror. Now, though, he was up and about — and ready to be discharged. "How are you?"

Khun looked up from his lighthouse. "Why hello, Viole. I have a headache. How was your meeting with the Princess?" He pushed his lighthouse aside and began to stand, but Bam rushed to take a seat next to him.

"Don't strain yourself," he said, gently tugging his friend back down. "And the meeting… well, it was all right. I think we're friends again, but it'll have to be low-key."

"Hm." In one quick movement, Khun powered off his lighthouse. "Right. Low-key. We definitely shouldn't fuel the rumors. Especially since it'll be impossible to contain." He muttered something about skinning a photographer.

Bam nodded, not quite sure what Khun meant but also unwilling to ask. Somehow, he knew the subject was not helping his friend's recovery. Instead, he peered at the bandage. "So… since Shibisu's team is here… how are we supposed to act around them?"

"Thanks to Anak and Shibisu, I was sent to a hospital and couldn't get the White Heavenly Mirror myself. I think it's pretty clear how we should act around them."

"What? They're still my friends, Mr. Khun."

Khun sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, Bam. Do you want to win the Workshop Battle and keep your team?"

"Of course," Bam answered immediately.

"Then you can't trust Shibisu's team. They're fighting to win, so they'll do what it takes." Khun smiled grimly. "I know I would." He gestured around them, at the hospital walls. "Look, Anaak wouldn't have punched me like that if she really cared about you. So when you see their team again, ignore them."

Bam frowned. "But Mr. Khun, Ms. Endorsi offered to help me—"

"I know she's your friend, but you shouldn't trust her." Khun sighed. "Otherwise, it'll be worse if she betrays you."

Bam straightened. "But I want to give her a chance. I don't think she'll betray me."

"Look, just let me handle it." Khun grinned. "Even if she doesn't have your best interests at heart… we can work with that." His lighthouse spun, and his grin sharpened. "It won't be hard."

"Um, I guess," Bam replied. "Anyways, have you figured out the White Heavenly Mirror yet?"

"Yeah, it might be an obscure weapon, but there's information on the Box if you look hard enough." His smile faded, replaced by a scowl. "I wish that I'd gotten it myself."

Bam sighed. This again, he thought. The first time he'd come to visit Khun — back when he'd first given him the White Heavenly Mirror — Khun hadn't stopped talking about how it wasn't right that Bam had earned the weapon, but Khun was going to use it. "Mr. Khun, don't worry about it," he said quickly, hoping to forestall further complaints. "I really don't care."

Khun's scowl deepened. "Well, I do."

Bam refrained from rolling his eyes. Instead, he wisely let the conversation lapse. Khun would probably feel better if they stopped talking and simply sat in the stillness of the courtyard, where the only sound was the bubbling of the fountain and the faraway noises of the other Regulars outside the hospital. Medical staff wandered about the building, flowers swayed in the non-existent breeze, and the gentle light shone down. Altogether, it was a peaceful and soothing scene. Perfect for a recovering Regular.

Then a familiar voice roared, "TURTLES, I KNOW YOU'RE HERE. STOP HIDING!"

Next to him, Khun groaned. "I have a headache again."