There was plenty to complain about in the Land of Darkness. Such as there was no sense of time or electricity, which made it a hurdle to know when meetings were. Fortunately, Salem developed a duckling Grimm with bells on its wings. It came by every 'morning' chiming, so you knew it was time to rise. Hazel thought his little sister would have found it cute...after she shot it.

His coworkers were selfish and snide. They didn't grasp that they were playthings in a war more extensive than nations or their own petty grievances. The sole exception was Tyrian...who always laughed at his jokes. Hazel rubbed his temples in disbelief that Tyrian was his favorite coworker.

Hazel cherished the Land of Darkness because his fantasy of murdering any incarnation of Oz was welcomed. He was in service to a woman who was capable of causing Oz great suffering. Hazel was aware that the deep urges of vengeance were a desire he would not wish on anyone. Yet, he loved it though his justified anger made life incredibly simple.

Make. Oz. Suffer.

There was panicked breathing...inside his head. He focused inward, anxiety had died in him long ago, but perhaps as all humans do, he was changing. His resentments coiled familiarly, comfortably within him. It was a strange corner of his mind that was manic with fear.

Of course, he knows his mind.

Hazel blinked, this was crazy, and he knew who to turn to when there was crazy.

XXX

Salem had been shocked when Hazel asked to leave for Mistral. He figured he was developing an alter ego that kept whimpering pathetically. Although it had the courage to be suicidal. Hazel found that he would have to flare up his Aura because he couldn't stop his hand from picking up a knife.

XXX

Hazel found Tyrian quickly and inexplicably it was a comforting sight to be around someone predictable, when Hazel himself had not been for weeks.

Tyrian giggled in delight and combed organ matter out of his hair. "Oooh I didn't expect the big man." But, he snuffed, "does this mean our goddess did not trust me with my task?"

Hazel waved his hand dismissively, "Of course not. I requested to come here. I need your help."

"You must be truly crazy to come to me!" He snickered.

Hazel solemnly nodded, "I believe I've lost my mind."

Tyrian was suddenly quiet and tilted his head, a transparent invitation for him to say more.

Hazel felt fear rise up, and this was surely his own, "I've tried to kill myself, but it was as if it wasn't me." He paused, trying to steady his breath, "I can't understand it. I don't consider or make a plan on how I would do it. My hand just goes for it, and all I can do is summon my Aura until I can wrestle myself back under control."

"Are you hearing voices?"

"A few times, but less and less. It's as if this other part of me is trying to hide. But, I can still feel it in the corner of my mind as pure panic. As if I'm hunting a small scared child in the dark."

More wheezing in his skull.

If Hazel was unnerved by his own self, he was beyond grateful for Tyrian. Who watched him with worry.

The Scorpion softly, "I don't know what to say. But I'm glad you're here."

Hazel felt a lump in his throat. He had been worried that he was genuinely willing to kill himself. When he heard his friend's gratitude for his life, he knew without a doubt Hazel Fucking Rainhart was proud to be among the living.

Meaning that the voice in his head was not him, and there was only one answer.

"Tyrian, I'm Ozpin now. Get me to Salem."

Holy fuck!

Tyrian laughed maniacally and stung his buddy with his stinger.

Before Hazel went unconscious he grinned at his best friend. "I love you brother."

Throwing the giant of a man over narrow shoulders, "I love you too, Hazel."

Ozpin, not the bromance I wanted.