Wingul knew from the start that he would not like whatever he was about to hear. Gaius did not just warn people he had something to tell them. He just did. The king was steeling himself for a difficult conversation, and Wingul's sense of self-preservation was screaming at him to run. He didn't, of course. Not only would it be incredibly rude, Wingul was not a coward. Whatever Gaius had to say, no matter how unpleasant, Wingul could take it. He was convinced of it. However, what Gaius said next still left him speechless.

"The Chimeriad of this dimension… You should know that they are… gone." Gaius kept a neutral face as he spoke, but Wingul did not miss the slight tremor in his voice.

"What do you mean, gone?" Wingul asked tensely, because his brain had not quite caught the implications yet.

Gaius briefly closed his eyes before he opened them again and fixed his gaze to Wingul's own. "They passed away a little over a year ago."

"How…" was the only whisper that made it past his throat.

Gaius took a moment before answering. "The circumstances were all different, but… you could say they died for me."

Wingul stopped breathing.

Of course.

Of course.

He knew this world was too perfect—there had to be a catch. The universe would not simply let them off nicely. There had to be a price, there had to be balance. Wingul's greatest failure, his inability to protect his king… this dimension's Wingul had achieved that. He had died with honors, fulfilling his mission, while Wingul was once again confronted with his own deficiency.

Gaius spoke again, and his words did not register immediately as Wingul was lost in a daze of guilt and regrets.

"The Gaius of your dimension died too, didn't he?"

Once again, Gaius' words took the breath out of Wingul's lungs.

"How do you know?" Presa asked shakily.

"Intuition. The way you all look at me sometimes…" His gaze trailed to Wingul, who suddenly found the attention suffocating.

Without a word, he stood up and left.

He was running away like a coward, he knew that. He should have stayed, listened to what Gaius had to say, bear whatever reproach he would have. But right now, he just could not bring himself to face him.

The night air was cool in the courtyard, the grass soft under his feet. Wingul only stopped running when he nearly collided with a tree. He leaned against it for support, not trusting his legs to keep him upright. The bark was rough against his palm in an oddly comforting way. Nature was rare in this city of steel and concrete, parks and private yards little patches of green scattered over a sea of grey. He was glad that the apartment complex that Ilbert chose for them had that little speck of nature.

"The Gaius of your dimension died too, didn't he?"

The hand against the tree balled into a fist. Pain bloomed into his knuckles as he hit the trunk, but he paid it no mind.

Gaius died.

Died died died died died died.

He was alive, and now king of the whole Rieze Maxia.

He was dead, never to sit on his throne again.

He was alive, spending peaceful time in Elympios.

He was dead, unaware of what that other world even looked like.

He was completely useless with technology.

He was bleeding out on a lumen-lit street.

He was alive.

He was dead.

He was—

"Wingul?"

With a gasp, Wingul turned around, and immediately regretted it when his look landed on a pair of crimson eyes. Gaius stood before him, a sad expression on his face. Wingul lowered his gaze, unable to look at him any longer.

"I don't want your pity."

Gaius sighed and walked around him to lean against the tree, arms crossed. Without even turning, Wingul knew his eyes were fixed on him. They both stayed silent for a while.

"Presa told me what happened," Gaius said after a while.

Wingul did not reply.

"It wasn't your fault."

They were supposed to be strangers, having met only a few weeks prior. How come he knew every thought that crossed his mind so well?

"Wingul…"

"Now you know how I survived. I failed you."

"Wingul, no…" Gaius' hand fell on Wingul's shoulder, forcing him to turn around to face him. "Wingul, it wasn't like that. The circumstances were different."

Wingul pushed his hand aside. "They fulfilled their duty. You said it yourself: they died for you. That's why you're alive, and he…" His voice broke. "He's not."

Gaius shook his head. "Jiao was killed before we even met Muzét. Presa and Agria were caught in an earthquake while on a mission. And Wingul…" He closed his eyes briefly. "Wingul chose to fight a battle he did not have to fight. Ultimately, his booster took him."

Wingul instinctively raised his hand to his head, resting it on the spot where the device pressed against his skull. His booster. A threat that had been looming over him for a while now. He knew the risks, knew he stepped closer to the edge every time he used it. Once, he used to think it was worth it. But in the end, the power he had gained in exchange had not been enough to protect his king. He could not even avenge him properly.

"They died for my cause," Gaius continued, "but it is not their deaths that prevented mine. Nor would yours have prevented his."

"What do you even know?" Wingul spat bitterly. "You weren't there. It was not you. If we'd arrived sooner…"

"Then you might have all died there, and what would that have accomplished? At least, you are still alive here, now."

A hollow laugh echoed in the stillness of the night, and it took Wingul a moment to realize it was his. "That's easy for you to say."

"Wingul…"

"You're the king, you have responsibilities toward your people. Your life is not yours to give freely. But I—we—are different. We were his bodyguards, it was our duty to protect him, or die trying. And you want us to be happy for being alive? Knowing that every breath we take is a reminder of our greatest failure?" He slumped against the tree, suddenly feeling very exhausted. "Why were we even brought here? Our world was doomed anyway, whatever we did…"

Gaius did not respond for a long time, so long that Wingul wondered if the conversation was over. He was about to leave when Gaius spoke again in a low voice. "I could ask you the same. Am I supposed to be happy that they are gone? I never asked that of them." He inhaled sharply, then let out a shaky breath, before continuing. "Living without them. Without… him. It is hard. Harder than I thought. Every day, I wish that things were different, that they hadn't…" He shook his head sadly. "But I can't even be mad at them for it. It would render their sacrifice meaningless, and I can't do that to them. I respect their decision, even if it brings me grief. But, Wingul…" He turned toward him, eyes bright from the spyrix lights reflected in them. "You are alive. I know you are not him, and I am not your Gaius either, but out of the countless possible Winguls across dimensions,you were given a chance to survive. And I think it means something—no, I want it to mean something. Please, do not let regrets waste this chance. That's not what he would have wanted." Wingul opened his mouth to argue, but Gaius cut him off. "Don't say it isn't true. If he was anything like me, he would want you to live. I want you to live."

Wingul turned away from him, all too aware of the wetness in his eyes. He tried to repress it—why was it so hard to control his emotions these days?—but it was all too much. Hearing those words in that voice, with that face… It was all he had ever wanted. Desperately, selfishly. Knowing he could never get it. He wiped his eyes furiously, willing them to stay dry, to stop displaying the feelings he tried to hard to keep in check.

"I know that," he whispered, his voice thick. "Deep down, I know. I just…" He took a deep breath and looked up to the dark sky. "Even if you—even if he can forgive me… I can't. I can't," he repeated. "Not when the memory of that day is still so clear in my mind." Would it even fade, with time? Jiao said it would, that it was healthier that way. But Wingul was not sure he wanted it to. It was his burden to bear.

Gaius' hand gripped his shoulder again, and for a foolish moment Wingul thought he was going to pull him toward him and hug him. But Gaius merely gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go, leaving Wingul's chest filled with relief and longing in equal measure.

"I won't ask you to get over it," Gaius said. "It's something you have to choose for yourself. And if distance is what you need, then I will leave you be. But if guilt is the only reason you push me away, you should know that it doesn't have to be. I want to take care of you, all of you, not out of pity, but because I want to make something of this chance."

"I…"

"You don't have to decide tonight. Take all the time you need. If eventually you decide to go your own way, I won't complain. But I need you to know you will always have a place by my side, should you want it."

There it was again, that tightening in his chest. Wingul forced out a shaky laugh to dispel it. "You really are Gaius." He sighed. "I'll think about it. I can't promise anything, but… I'll try." Then, softly, he added, "Thank you."

Gaius hummed approvingly. "Let's go back. The others are waiting for us." Worried about him, most likely, Wingul guessed. Agria had probably already selected a few insults to rain on him.

"Go ahead," he said. "I need some time alone."

When Gaius walked away, Wingul finally turned in his direction to watch his back. There was something comforting in his silhouette, his confident strides toward the building's entrance. Gaius was strong. He'd always known that, but seeing it again with his own eyes was a luxury he cherished dearly. For once, he could stare at him without guilt overwhelming him.

'Trying,' as it was, involved listening to Gaius' plea to get his booster checked. Truthfully, Wingul knew he had no reason to put it off other than sheer stubbornness. He knew whatever they would discover would not be good news, and he was not looking forward to it. But Gaius was determined not to let him suffer the same fate as the Wingul of this world, and to that Wingul had no objection. If he had to choose, he would rather die of old age or from a sword to his gut than from the ticking bomb inside his head.

Complying with the examination did not mean he had to be happy with the choice of examiner in charge, however. Glaring was rude, he knew. So was bluntly asking if the boy even had the qualification to operate a brain scanner, but Wingul's headache was making him irritable.

"I completed my studies, after everything," Jude explained patiently, unfazed. "And I've spent a lot of time studying mana lobes. I know what I'm doing, don't worry. Now hold still."

Wingul complied, not necessarily because he trusted the boy's authority, but because the sooner it was over, the better. Jude at least had the presence of mind to turn to an actual expert before running more tests.

"Do you think we should do tests with the booster activated?" he asked his assistant.

The woman frowned. "I wouldn't recommend it. If what you described is true, it sounds close to breaking down, and the outcome would be catastrophic." Die from it, like the Wingul of this world; or lose control and go on a rampage, like he almost did when the device was newly implanted. Neither perspective sounded appealing, and Wingul was grateful for her familiar presence, even if meeting her here was the last thing he had expected.

"How did you end up here?" he asked her. "I thought you went into hiding."

Jude's current assistant, Rosa, was someone Wingul knew very well: she had been one of the researchers who had experimented on his booster at the Labari institute. When the place was dismantled after Rashugal spies' infiltration, the surviving scientists had been sent away to hide, knowing the enemy would do anything to get their hands on their knowledge.

"When I heard about Dr. Mathis' research," she explained, "I could not help but take an interest. With Auj Oule and Rashugal united, there was no reason for me to hide any longer, so I traveled to Elympios and knocked on his door."

"Her knowledge of boosters has been a great help," Jude confirmed. "We'd been using the data Exodus extracted from Teepo, but having one of the original creators in the team is invaluable."

It was a lucky coincidence, Wingul thought. Regardless of Jude's qualifications, Rosa was someone Wingul could trust when it came to his brain. This helped him relax somewhat and let them do their job.

They spent a long time analyzing the results, and though they were too far to hear their conversation, Wingul could see how focused Jude was when he was working. Perhaps he'd been a little too quick to judge him. After all, they were all supposedly allies now. Wingul had already gotten used to Leia's presence at their apartment, and he also regularly saw Ilbert around, sometimes with Elize. He had even joined Presa and Jiao at the bar with Ludger and one of the Elympion's friends once. The only ones of Maxwell's group that Wingul had been content to avoid were Alvin and Jude, but he needed Jude's help now, so perhaps it was time to let his past misgivings to rest.

Jude came back to him with a cautious expression. "I have bad news and good news."

Wingul closed his eyes briefly. Didn't they ever? "Start with the bad."

"Your booster is falling apart and putting a strain on your mana lobe, even when not activated. It's probably the reason for your frequent migraines. There are several lesions on your mana lobe, and it can only get worse. The booster needs to be removed as soon as possible, but even then there is a risk that your mana lobe will never truly recover. You will probably lose some functionality. Worst case scenario, you won't be able to channel again."

Wingul kept his expression neutral. He'd always known, in a way. Implanting the booster directly into his brain carried high risks, and he'd always been prepared for the possibility of it backfiring one day. Tremendous power came with a high cost, and it was about time for him to pay the price. Still, hearing confirmation so plainly left him with a bitter aftertaste. Losing his mana lobe would render him completely useless. Another way in which he failed his duty, he supposed. He was almost starting to get used to it.

"You said there was good news," he mentioned cautiously, careful not to raise his hopes up.

"Well, the good thing is," Jude replied, "Elympios has excellent brain surgeons and top-class medical technology. If we can bring in mana lobe experts from Talim Hospital to assist, there is a good chance we can save your mana lobe."

Could he allow himself to hope? To believe that, maybe, this time, things would turn out fine. It was dangerous to hope; he should just be happy with the fact his life would no longer be in danger. Anything else was a bonus. But if the possibility existed…

Jude must have seen something in his expression, because he took out his GHS with a smile. "I will get in touch with my former professors."

That evening, Wingul sat on the couch deep in thought, staring at the television without really registering what was happening on the screen. He was brought out of his reverie when he felt the cushion sag next to him.

"Are you even watching?" Presa asked.

He shook his head. "Agria turned it on earlier. She watched for about five minutes, then declared it was stupid and went out."

Presa snorted. "Typical." She looked at the screen for a moment. "Isn't that the cartoon the kids were making a fuss about the other day? Bunny-something?"

"Bunnykins," Wingul supplied. "I suppose it is."

"Huh. It's cute, I guess." She grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. Then, she took something out of her purse and scooted a little closer, bringing one leg up on the couch and inspecting her foot. "Where's His Highness?" she asked nonchalantly, before uncapping the bottle of nail polish she was holding and starting to work on her big toenail.

"Work." Gaius was having a lot of meetings with Elympion officials and businessmen these days. Wingul was not privy to the details, but it seemed that they were in the process of drafting new treaties.

"Huh-huh." Presa was pretending to focus on her nails while making small talk, but Wingul knew she was sounding him out. "You're not getting involved?" she asked. "That used to be your thing."

"That used to be another Wingul's thing," he corrected.

She stopped to look at him. "This could be your thing again. He offered you your old job back too, didn't he?"

Wingul nodded. "I won't take it, though."

Presa swore under her breath. "Agria was right. I should have known."

"Have you been talking about me behind my back again?" Wingul asked, annoyed.

"A little," Presa admitted, slightly guiltily. "After you stormed off the other day… We were all a little concerned."

"You should stop worrying about me."

"You should stop expecting us to," she fired back.

"Are you going to accept?" Wingul asked to shift the focus back to her. She bit her lip. "You are, aren't you?" he pressed.

"I'm not sure," she said. "Agria already said yes, and Jiao is avoiding giving an answer until we all decide, but I know he wants to."

"Why are you hesitating, then?"

She leveled him with a look. "You. I don't want to leave you all alone."

Wingul felt annoyance spike again. "Presa, I just told you—"

"It's not pity, if you think that's why. I just… I don't know, we've been through so much together. I don't want us to split up. Ideally, the whole Chimeriad would stay together, but if I can't have that, then I'd like to go with you. We could get a small studio together. I'd look for a better job, and you could find one too. It's not too bad here. We would be away from politics and fighting and all that. It'd be peaceful."

Wingul tried to picture it. A peaceful, plain life in a corner of this gigantic city, working some unimportant job for the sole purpose of sustenance. Even if he lost his mana lobe, it wouldn't be too hard. Thousands of people coped without one here. But as tempting as it sounded, Wingul had the feeling that he would never feel truly satisfied with such a life.

"Be honest. You want to accept too, don't you?" Presa asked.

"Is it even possible? To go back to our old lives, as if nothing happened? I don't think I can."

"No one's asking you to pretend nothing happened," Presa pointed out. "But, moving forward, isn't that what we're best at?"

"I don't know," Wingul confided. "For the first time in my life, I don't know what I want."

"Then take time to figure it out. I'll wait with you."

"Hmm…"

Time. That was a strange thing to have. In his life, Wingul had never really had time for doubts and regrets. As Presa said, he, like all the Chimeriad, was used to moving forward. But the past year had left him empty with sorrow, and he'd felt completely lost ever since he was brought into this dimension. It was like he had no point of reference anymore, no idea how to proceed. The path before him was blurry and uncertain, and he did not know in which direction to walk.

Presa bumped his shoulder playfully. "Who knows, maybe you'll find passion in a new career in advertising. Bunnykins could do with a new theme song, if you ask me."

He shouldered her back. "Only if I can get Agria to sing it."

Snickering, Presa went back to applying color to her toenails. Her mirth made it difficult to keep her hands steady, but she somehow managed not to spill it. Wingul observed her for a moment, then sank back into the couch, staring ahead at the black screen.

"Presa."

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to have my booster removed."

Her hand stilled, and she looked up at him. "Really? You finally went to get tested?"

He nodded, still fixing a point straight ahead. "I may lose the ability to channel."

"Oh… That's…" She seemed at a loss for words, and he could not really blame her. He himself did not know what to say about that. Even if, as Elympios showed, it was possible to lead a fulfilling life without a functioning mana lobe, to a Rieze Maxian who had spent their whole life channeling—and was a skilled spellcaster, at that—it was like losing a part of yourself. The prospect was daunting.

"It might not come to that," he said to reassure her and himself. "Jude Mathis has leveraged his connections to get me the best possible care." It turned out that it didn't take much convincing to get top Elympion surgeons on board: the prospect of operating on a functional mana lobe with the assistance of Rieze Maxian experts in the field was too good an opportunity to pass up, and arrangements had been made much faster than even Jude himself had expected. Wingul should have probably felt put off at being treated as an interesting case study, but he had already lived through that once with Rosa and her team all those years ago, so it just felt oddly familiar.

"When is it happening?" Presa asked.

"Next week."

"So soon?!"

"Connections." Wingul shrugged. "I could probably hold out a bit longer, but they insisted it be done as soon as possible."

"Does His Highness know?"

"Not yet. Should I tell him?"

"Of course you should!" Presa exclaimed, slapping his shoulder. "He'd want to know."

"He might worry," Wingul pointed out. He did not want to burden him with worries when he had more important things to focus on.

"He'll be happy you've shared the news with him," Presa remarked.

He most likely would, that was true. And perhaps it was worth it, to let him worry a little, if it meant making him feel included. He had certainly made an effort to give Wingul space; perhaps now it was Wingul's turn to make an effort to bridge the gap.