…Are ya'll ready for a Missing-Link AU?

Content warnings: This story will deal a lot with trauma, grief, and manipulation by authority figures. Please make sure that's something that you're okay with before going forward.

Chapter One: Reunion

Do you want to hear a story?

Back before the world began, things were very different. Darkness walked among the people like it was one of them, tangible and dangerous. It spread little bits of itself, leaving behind living fragments of its heart in others, and slowly it would swallow them whole, their greed and anger and fear turning them into monsters. The first Master saw what was happening and took action; he and his apprentices valiantly sacrificed themselves in an attempt to seal away the darkness. Their battle was great, and it rent the world in two.

But there were survivors: little seeds of light, still trapped on the broken fragments of their world.

(This wasn't how it went.)

Listen close. This is when the first Heroes appeared.

Ephemer, the founder of our city, curious and bold.

Skuld, his closest friend, brave and kind.

Brain, the architect of their escape, intelligent and secretive.

Lauriam, gentle and grieving, nursing a great loss himself.

Ven, the youngest, but filled with enough light to help them see by.

(You've got it wrong; we were just kids.)

These five gathered up the survivors and led them through the darkness left behind. But the world was not a forgiving place, filled with monsters that lurked in the shadows—shades that might've been human once, reaching desperately for what they'd been before. The little lights flickered out, one by one, no matter how hard the Heroes fought. But they didn't stop; they kept searching, traveling back to the heart—

"That's not what happened."

-Brain hadn't meant to say anything, really; he knew that this was just…a thing that the citizens of Scala ad Caelum did. But he'd caught the little performance, and he'd made the mistake of stopping to listen, a familiar ache coiling in his chest.

(He could hear the whispers, annoyed then shocked as they slowly realized who'd interrupted the story, quiet murmurs of, "It's him, it's him" that made his ears ache.)

"Well." The storyteller looked slightly wrong-footed, blinking owlishly. "I—suppose you could tell it better? Since you were there."

Voices rose a little louder, but the excited chatter made his skin prickle. He tugged his hat down. "Nah. Not like it matters much, right? You've been telling the same stories for generations."

"Come on, Master Brain—"

"No."

The crowd fell silent.

He worked his jaw, trying to ignore the stinging guilt and grief and frustration. "There are better stories than the end, aren't there? You ever hear about how Ephemer got lost in the Clock Tower for a day?"

(It'd been back when they first moved in. Brain hadn't even entirely realized it had happened until Ephemer had wandered into his room, looking confused and sheepish. He'd been a little frustrated at the time; it made him smile now.)

"Skuld roped Ven into looking for him, I think. They made a mess of the Clock Tower—Lauriam had to clean it up when…"

And there it was—the vaguely uncomfortable, uncertain looks, the smiles that said the citizens of Scala ad Caelum weren't sure what to do when their heroes became human.

Brain's voice trailed off. That ugly thing curled tighter in his chest, and suddenly he wanted to be anywhere but here. "But Skuld was more the story person, not me. She'd probably tell it better." He turned, waving them off. "Go ahead. Do your thing."

He could still hear the whispers, but he got the sense that people were a little relieved, too. Probably strange, having a legend in your midst. It made him smile bitterly, but it felt like there was something hollow in his chest.

He ignored it, like he always did nowadays. He had work to do, and it wasn't like he could change his situation; no point in mourning what could've been.

-Brain had been in Scala ad Caelum for exactly one month, a week, and three days. It felt longer, sometimes.

-Do you want to hear a story?

I know, I know, that's not how it goes—but stories change, depending on the teller on the situation. Details become fuzzy and shift. Different speakers have different things they focus on, adding a little bit of themselves with each retelling.

And maybe, every now and then, they get it into their heads they want to change the outcome.

-Skuld had seen the world end twice.

The first time had been a chaotic mess of sights and sounds and sensations. It made it difficult for everything to stick, the memories a confused blur with only a couple clear moments in the haze, confusing in their unimportance. The way someone looked at her, wide-eyed, when she'd just barely stopped her Keyblade from hitting them. The smell of burning metal when she'd run across the battlefield. A brief pause to breathe, staring up at a heart-shaped moon and wondering, Are they alright? Are we ever actually going to find them?

The second time wasn't nearly so confusing. It felt like every moment was pressed into her memory in excruciating detail, a day that took an eternity and a second.

Her hands were still shaking when they went back to the lifeboat chamber. Everything was shaking, adrenaline and fear making her limbs rubbery. There was a part of this that didn't feel real; the Clock Tower had felt unbreakable, once upon a time, and now it was crashing down around them.

I might never see them again. The reality reached into her chest and squeezed, and it made her want to cry, the sob building in her chest as Ephemer helped her into the lifeboat. The grief was a sticky, cloying thing, wrapping around her and pulling her down like the crumbling Clock Tower. It'd drown her, if she let it.

But not all of her friends were gone—not yet, anyways, and it didn't fix anything but it gave her something to cling to. "Thank you for being here, Ephemer." She could almost feel his surprise, but she didn't want to look; it hurt less, to keep her eyes closed. "I'm glad I don't have to face the end alone."

Silence. And then, quiet, "It's not over till it's over, Skuld."

She laughed, because of course he'd try to hold onto hope, even in a situation like this. "Right."

(But maybe—maybe she could let herself believe him, as ridiculous as it seemed.)

-Do you want to hear a story?

It's not so much a grand tale as it is a lot of little things. Growing up. Moving on. Healing, or not. And maybe it's also, a little bit, about defying fate, and what the world might do to set things back the way they should be.

Mostly, though, it's just a story about two friends.

-Brain was getting really, really tired of dealing with some of Ephemer's descendants.

Well. Correction: he was specifically getting tired of working with the council that ran Scala ad Caelum, which were mostly Ephemer's descendants and mostly insufferable aside from about two people. Some of the others were nice enough, he supposed, but it was still jarring to interact with them most of the time.

(Even more jarring when they'd ask him what Ephemer was like, and he'd have to try and grapple with the fact that he was completely untethered from his time and Ephemer was little more than a story now and the only parts of him left were these people he didn't know.)

"Master Brain, were you listening?"

Speaking of. He plastered on a smile that was too sharp to be friendly and turned his attention towards the council member that was talking to him. "You want to send out some trainees to explore that new world, right?"

The council member looked way too relieved for what Brain was about to say. "Yes. It would be good training for—"

"I think it's bullshit."

The council member faltered. "Er. Come again?"

"It's unexplored. Not exactly what I'd call a good place to send newbies." (The Union members went, some part of him hissed. He snapped back, That's why we're not doing it this way again.) "Send someone else."

"Everyone else is busy—"

"Alright, then I'll go." He absolutely was not convinced that there wasn't anyone else who could help, but it was as good an excuse as any to leave and see if he could find any sign of the others.

("Master Ephemer didn't leave anything behind talking about the rest of the Union Leaders," Sigurd told him, as gentle as he could.

"That doesn't mean they aren't out there."

"It would've shown up in the Book."

"That you won't let me see."

Sigurd looked apologetic. "It's for the best, Master Brain.")

"You can't just volunteer for every mission," the council member snapped, finally seeming to lose patience. "You're too important."

(Because you're one of the original Union Leaders. A legend. Right.)

"Cool. Then send someone else." His grin broadened. "But you know, as a Union Leader, I don't think I need your permission to go off-world."

The council member's eye twitched. "Brain—"

"Do you really need me here?"

The room fell silent.

"Thought so." He turned, lifting a hand in a half-wave. "I'll check this world out for you, then."

"Master Brain, I didn't mean—"

He pointedly tuned him out.

Footsteps hurried behind him. Brain bit back a sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "You don't need to follow me everywhere, Sigurd."

"It's my job to act as your guide."

"Babysitter."

"That's not—you're a valued member of the council. You just…have some ideas they don't agree with."

"Mm." It didn't really feel like it, most of the time. Most of the time, it felt like the council saw him as something between a legendary figure and a child they wanted to control but couldn't, and it grated on him more than he wanted to admit.

(He missed the others. He missed being able to work together to try and solve problems and he missed having his ideas taken seriously and he missed having friends.

Don't think about it. They aren't coming back. You have to focus on what's ahead.)

Familiar pinpricks of grief poked at the back of his chest, and he shrugged them away and tugged his hat a little lower. "Well. Anything else you wanted to say before I go?" Starlight flicked into his hands, and he tried to ignore how foreign it felt to hold.

He couldn't see Sigurd's face, but he could almost feel his disapproval.

"Alright. Might be gone a few days, depending on the world, so—"

"Master Brain! Master Sigurd!"

Damn it.

"Can I help you?" he drawled, and tried very, very hard to keep the frustration out of his voice.

(He didn't think he entirely succeeded by the fact that Sigurd shot him a sharp look, but—well, he wasn't the one who had to deal with an irritating council meeting when he could be doing much more productive things.)

The newcomer slowed to a stop, giving him a wide-eyed, nervous look, and he started to feel a little guilty about his tone. "I won't bite. Promise."

That did not seem to reassure the newcomer, and he had half a second to wonder if maybe they were more worried about bothering a Union Leader than about bothering him specifically before they said, "There's—something's happening over in the Breezy Corridor."

Brain was on alert immediately. "Heartless?"

"No, no, not Heartless. It's—I don't know, maybe this is silly, but I remember hearing how you came here, and—you more or less just appeared in the middle of the street, right? Out of nowhere?"

Suddenly the newcomer had Brain's full attention, and he tried so, so hard to ignore the hopeful thing twisting in his chest. "Yeah."

"Well—that kind of happened again."

He was moving before they'd even entirely finished their explanation, ignoring Sigurd's shouts behind him. There's no way. It can't be—Sigurd swore that no one else was supposed to be here besides me.

But what if it is?

There were people gathered around the edges of the street, whispering to themselves and giving whoever was out there a wide berth. Brain shoved his way through them. He almost didn't believe it when he saw familiar dark hair and stars.

Starlight clattered to the ground and disappeared, and then he was running across the street to greet his friend.

-The world was falling down around her, and all Skuld could think, over and over again, was, Please, please, let me find my friends at the end of this, don't let me lose them too—

And then everything went dark, her senses jumbled into a helpless collection of sights and sounds and smells that she couldn't hope to parse apart from each other. She thought maybe she screamed; she thought maybe she heard someone else shouting for her. She thought she saw something—something familiar, warm and bright and glowing in the distance, and she reached for it blindly—

Rough stone scraped against her cheek and palms. The heavy scent of rain and the sea hit her nose. Pain rocked through her arm, and for one brief, disorienting moment, it felt like she was still falling.

Panic kicked in, her brain still stuck on the world is ending the world is ending you need to move you need to move, and she scrambled to her feet, breath shuddering in her chest and throat, Keyblade sparking at her fingertips.

She didn't know where she was. The dark buildings were completely unfamiliar to her. Fog wreathed around her legs, and she could feel people staring at her—some in the streets, hushed, others peering out windows, and others that she probably couldn't see at all. She stared back at them, frozen, as her brain scrambled to catch up. The—the lifeboats. The lifeboats were supposed to get us out, but nobody knew where they'd take us, so—

Where am I?

"Skuld!"

Her breathe caught. She knew that voice. "Brai—"

The word cut off as she turned around and someone crashed into her. Arms snapped around her, hugging her tight, and she responded almost reflexively. It took a moment for her to process what was going on, her face mostly buried in a black jacket, but then the constant, frantic string of words started to make sense, and the hug became a little more real.

"Brain?"

"You're alright—"

"I'm okay, are you—"

"What happened, did you see any of the others—"

"Where are we, how long have you been here—"

"You're actually here—"

"I can't believe you're—"

They both cut themselves off finally, descending into sputtering, helpless laughter instead of trying to talk over one another. Skuld's fingers tightened into Brian's jacket, and she inhaled a shaky, relieved breath. At least one of them's here.

Brain pulled away a little, but not far—just enough so that he could actually see her face, hands resting carefully on her arms, like he wasn't entirely sure she was here. Despite his relieved smile, he was crying. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay. Are you—"

"Yeah. I'm okay."

Skuld laughed, shaky and relieved, and sank into him, letting her forehead rest against his shoulder. "Okay. Okay."

He hugged her again—probably more to support her than anything this time, since she felt a little like her legs were going to give out from under her. She felt tired in a way she hadn't in…a long time, she thought.

"You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah. I'm just—it's a lot."

She could feel him shaking. "Yeah."

Now that the initial fear and adrenaline were wearing off, she was starting to feel like she wanted to crash and fall asleep. But she couldn't yet; for everything that she'd just been through, there were still things to do. Figure out where we are. Figure out where the others went to. Carefully she pushed away from Brain, resting her hands against his arms to steady herself. "Brain. Where is this? Do you…?"

Something flickered over his face that she couldn't place. "It's called Scala ad Caelum," he responded. "It used to be Daybreak Town."

Skuld's breath caught. "Oh. So this is—"

"Pretty far from our time. Yeah."

She glanced around her at the dark buildings and foggy streets, towering over her like strangers. It looked nothing like Daybreak Town—no bright colors or gardens or clear skies. It made something in her chest ache.

"You…just got here, right? After the end?"

Skuld winced at the reminder, and tried not to think about—

(a dark room clashing metal fighting for their lives don't hurt them stop please—)

Wait. "Just got here? You didn't?"

Brain shook his head, and suddenly she was aware of the heavy bags under his eyes and how pale his face looked. "Been here a few weeks." He laughed, tired and humorless. "Honestly, I wasn't sure I'd ever see any of you again."

Her chest twisted tighter. "Oh. So—so none of the others were here." And then his words actually sank in—because that meant that he'd probably experienced the same thing she just had, but— "You were really alone for…?"

He was shaking his head before she'd even finished. "Not entirely. Had someone come and find me when I landed here. Sigurd—you'll probably meet him before too long." He glanced over his shoulder with a frown. "He was behind me at one point." His expression turned sheepish. "Probably left him behind."

Skuld snorted with quiet laughter. She sobered after a moment, asking quietly, "Do you have any idea where the others are?"

"Well, the lifeboats can send people across space and time. Theoretically, they could be anywhere. They might show up in a couple of weeks like you did, or they might not be anywhere close to us."

It stung that already-wounded thing in her chest, and she had to grip Brain's arms harder to keep herself steady. "Oh." She closed her eyes and breathed in slowly. They're—they got out okay. Brain wouldn't be talking about them like this if they hadn't. That's what matters. At least—at least one of them is here. That's something. That's something.

"I do know…what happened to one of them."

Brain's voice was soft, and she opened her eyes to see him looking at her with something sad and almost apologetic. Her grip tightened almost reflexively.

Brain glanced at her hands, then sighed and detached them gently. "Come on. Let me show you."

-"You didn't make it out."

Ephemer's statue was silent. It stared blankly out across Scala ad Caelum, no matter how much Skuld wanted to meet its eyes. She sat on the edge of the fountain and tried not to think too hard about the differences—about a stony, silent Ephemer, about a missing friend, about the dark buildings and unusual structures.

Brain stood a decent distance away—far enough that she didn't think he could overhear her. Giving her some privacy, she guessed. It was a kind gesture, but she wasn't sure if she appreciated it or not.

"Or I guess you did." She tilted her head back and tried to ignore how much her eyes were stinging. "But you just…didn't travel very far." It felt like something was crumbling inside her. The statue turned blurry, and she sucked in a shuddering breath. It came out as a sob as the enormity of everything that had happened crashed into her. It felt like too much, grief squeezing her chest and clogging her throat and she wasn't sure she could breathe right anymore. She hugged her arms tightly and hunched over herself. Stop. Stop. You need to—you need to keep it together. But trying to stop just made it worse, and eventually she just let herself cry, shoulders shuddering until she felt too tired and drained to do anything else.

Brain had turned away from her, hands shoved in his pockets, but she caught him casting uncertain glances out of the corner of his eye.

She sniffed and scrubbed at her eyes. "You don't have to stay over there, you know." Her voice came out shaky and broken, but she didn't try to fix it.

He turned and headed her way, settling carefully on the fountain beside her.

"He really rebuilt this place?" Skuld asked quietly. "All by himself?"

"He wasn't by himself. He made other connections after we left." Brain's voice went quiet. "But yeah."

Skuld took a shuddering inhale, and then she laughed, shaky and broken. "I must look like a mess, huh?"

"If it's any consolation, I'm not sure I was much better. Made it through the day and broke down in my apartment."

Apartment. Right, she'd have to find somewhere to stay. The reminder made her feel like the world was pressing down on her shoulders. "I just saw him not even an hour ago."

The two of them fell silent. Skuld blinked and tried to picture this place like it was Daybreak Town—with Keyblade wielders running through the streets, getting ready for missions or relaxing after a hard day, people talking to each other and shouting from the windows.

"Master Brain. Master…Skuld, I assume?"

The voice wasn't familiar, and Skuld blinked her eyes open at the name. "Master?" she repeated.

A stranger was standing a short distance off, face obscured in shadow. "You're one of the original Union Leaders—so, Master."

"It's a thing for everyone in Scala ad Caelum," Brain said. He was surprisingly still, a strange, grim sort of smile on his face. "Or more specifically, we are."

Skuld furrowed her eyebrows, and might've pressed him on it if the stranger hadn't said, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but it really is important that we get Master Skuld to HQ to catch her up to speed."

"She just got here," Brain said, quiet, stiff.

"No, it's alright." It didn't feel alright, but if the stranger was offering to tell her more about what was going on—well, she couldn't exactly turn that down. She stood and tried to ignore how leaden her legs felt. "Show me the way…?"

"Sigurd," the stranger and Brain answered simultaneously.

The person who found Brain, then. She couldn't help wondering why he seemed so…uncomfortable around him, if Sigurd was the one who'd been helping those first few weeks. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't quite catch Brain's eye as they headed through the streets of Scala ad Caelum, and she didn't quite feel like she wanted to ask with Sigurd in hearing distance.

Her eyes drifted out across the streets. Everything looked so different, but occasionally she could pick out things that seemed familiar—flashes of color between the buildings, familiar cobblestones underfoot, small gardens nestled between the dark buildings. It felt like she was staring at ghosts inhabiting the body of something she once knew.

The building Sigurd led them to was a large structure that reminded her a lot of the Clock Tower. She craned her neck to get a better look at it, feeling something in her chest ache.

"Skuld."

She started out of her thoughts at Brain's voice, turning to cast him a curious glance.

His shoulders were still stiff, his expression pinched, and he wasn't quite looking at her. "You need to know something," he said, voice hushed, hurried. "Before we get up there."

She cast half a glance towards Sigurd, trying to ignore the way her skin prickled with the sudden sense of danger. "What is it?"

He took a deep breath. "Ephemer—"

"Hello, Master Sigurd, Master Brain. And…Master Skuld, I presume?"

Brain's mouth snapped shut with a click, expression mostly hidden behind his hat.

The interruption made something simmer inside her, frustrated, and she turned towards the newcomer—

And froze.

He didn't look exactly like Ephemer—but that didn't mean she couldn't pick out familiar features, in his curls and his facial structure, in the shape of his eyes and his smile. It made everything go stiff and still, because her mind told her that this wasn't her friend, there were too many differences, he wasn't actually here—but her heart kept saying it's him, it's him, it's him—

"Skuld," Brain said, and she could just hear the edge of worry, but it felt like it was coming from a distance.

The newcomer didn't seem to notice anything off at all; he approached and reached for her hand, shaking it with enthusiasm. "It's an honor to meet another Union Leader—and one that was so close to my ancestor, no less!"

"Ancestor," Skuld repeated numbly.

(Ephemer had lived a whole life without them.)

"That's right. My name's Kvasir. I've heard many stories about you from my family members. You were Master Ephemer's best friend, weren't you?"

She detached herself and took a few stumbling steps away. "I wasn't the only one."

(It made sense. Of course he'd have a family. He wasn't going to live his life alone. But—)

"I know. The other Union Leaders—and that other friend of yours, right? I'm sorry to say that their name was lost to time."

She didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry.

(She never got to know them—his partner or his kids or anything. The closest she had was a stranger that bore his face.)

Someone cleared their throat—Sigurd, still waiting a little bit ahead of them. "I'm sure Master Skuld would be happy to talk to you later—after we've had time to fill her in."

"Right, right! Sorry, I suppose I got carried away. Excited to meet you, is all." He turned, chattering excitedly and heading back towards Sigurd.

Skuld wasn't really listening. She wasn't even aware that she hadn't moved until Brain nudged her lightly, and her legs started forward with a jolt.

"You doing alright?" Brain whispered.

"I—" She tore her eyes from Kvasir's back and stared pointedly at the ground. "That's what you were trying to warn me about, right? That Ephemer had—was it weird for you, too? The first time you realized?"

Brain was quiet for several moments. "It didn't sink in at first," he admitted finally. "Mostly I just took it at face value—tried not to think about what it meant. But it was…strange to be asked what he was like by people who were related to him." He huffed a quiet laugh. "Stranger when they argued with me about the answer."

Skuld wanted to laugh, but couldn't quite get it past the lump in her throat.

Brain's hand brushed the back of hers. She could feel him giving her a worried look, so she turned and flashed him a tight smile.

(She didn't think she could say she was okay yet—but she thought that maybe he knew that already.)

-There's this thing about stories—they can be shaped and molded into whatever you please. Very often, the subjects of those stories aren't around to protest, their histories warped into legends, their deeds superhuman. You can use those stories to inspire or to frighten—to shape the narrative to your own desires.

It's a little different when the characters from those stories step foot into reality, very human and bursting with ideas that you may not particularly like. So maybe you try to take back control of the narrative in increments—small enough you hope they don't notice.

(Legends are so much more useful when they aren't around to argue with you.)

-"This is…unprecedented."

Skuld stood stiff-backed in front of a large table, trying not to stare at the strangers collected on either side. Sometimes she thought she saw familiar features in them, and her eyes skittered away, sliding away like they were made of ice.

Brain stood just as stiff beside her. His expression had gone shadowed and unreadable. It reminded her of how he was when they'd first met in a way she didn't really like.

"This wasn't in the Book." One of the strangers—whoever was in charge, she guessed—directed the comment towards Sigurd.

"No," Sigurd and Brain said simultaneously.

Skuld shot a surprised look towards her friend.

She wasn't the only one. "You've seen the Book?" a different stranger asked, sounding shocked and just a bit worried.

Brain smiled, jagged and fake. "No," he said casually, "but Sigurd's assured me over and over that none of my friends made it to this time."

Skuld's attention snapped towards the hooded man.

"They weren't in the Book," Sigurd insisted stubbornly. "I would've seen them if they were."

"So either Master Skuld didn't make enough of an impact here to be of note," the first stranger said, making her bristle, "or something changed."

The room went deathly quiet. Skuld clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. "It doesn't matter," she said. "I'm here—and I need to know what's happened between my time and now."

"That's a long story," the leader said, but there was a note of amusement in her voice. "The short version is that your friend Master Ephemer created this place from the ruins of Daybreak Town. He built a thriving world made for Keyblade wielders—designed to protect the remains of the universe and keep the peace. His descendants—and assorted Keyblade Masters, should they fit the criteria—are in charge of running the world. We train wielders, of course, but we also make sure that infrastructure gets fixed, supply lines are kept running, and that problems are resolved. Whatever is necessary to keep the world in operation is handled by us."

"Sounds a little like what we used to do," Skuld murmured, glancing at Brain.

He relaxed just a fraction, that fake smile softening into something a little more genuine.

The leader cleared her throat. "Yes. I suppose it is—though I suspect we do things differently here than you did. It has been several hundred years, after all, and you were…young when you started."

The word made Skuld's shoulders go stiff, but she forced herself to relax. (She wasn't wrong, after all—Skuld had thought it many times herself, when she or the others had struggled with their duties.) "I'm willing to learn," she said. "You keep calling me Master—so I'm guessing you want me to be part of this council, right?"

The leader's expression warmed just a little. "That's right. We will be training you on how the city runs. We'll be assigning you a mentor—someone to take charge of your training personally, like Sigurd is with Brain."

She didn't know why Brain went stiff at that; it made her wary, but she couldn't see any reason to reject the offer, so she nodded.

The leader nodded back. "I expect to see you here early tomorrow morning. In the meantime, we'll have to find you some sort of accommodations."

"She can stay with me," Brain said.

It wasn't really that surprising, when Skuld thought about it—and was more than a little relieving, something tight unwinding in her chest. So it surprised her when the council didn't seem particularly enamored with the idea. "Master Brain," one of them said, and then paused, like they weren't sure what to say.

"What? Seems like it solves the problem, right?" Brain shrugged, but there was something sharp in his eyes. "In Daybreak Town—"

"This isn't Daybreak Town," someone else snapped, and it had the cadence of an argument well-worn.

"I want to," Skuld interrupted, because she could see the beginnings of an argument and—and she didn't want to be away from her friend. Not when everything still felt too close. "He's my friend. It's not a big deal."

"I just think—it doesn't seem fair that only one of you has a place. If we perhaps had more time—"

The leader lifted a hand, and the room fell quiet again. "If she wants to stay with her friend," she said, "then it solves one problem for us. It's a useful arrangement until we can find somewhere else for her to stay." There was something strangely calculating in her stare, and Skuld wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

(Brain still hadn't relaxed.)

"Master Brain will show you to your quarters, then." The leader dipped her head, and Skuld got the feeling that was a dismissal. "My name is Frigga. It's a pleasure to meet you, Master Skuld. I hope that we can have a fruitful relationship."

-"Frigga—stars, why did you agree to that?"

Frigga exhaled slowly, watching the space where the young Union Leaders once stood. "Were you going to come up with a convincing argument to stop them, Osmin?"

The other council members were leaving slowly, muttering about getting back to work or whispering excitedly about the appearance of a second Union Leader. Still, Osmin made himself heard: "We already have trouble with the one—"

"So what better reason to be in their good graces, hmm?" She arched an eyebrow.

Osmin made a disgruntled noise. "I don't like this. What happens if they both decide to strike out on their own? Who do you think the citizens of Scala ad Caelum would follow then?"

"Have a little faith, old friend. All of us have the city's best interests at heart. We'll just need to learn how to navigate our individual differences."

Osmin shook his head. "I hate that I know you're planning something."

That got a genuine laugh out of her. "I suppose I can rely on you if I need help, then?"

"Yes. Unfortunately. Stars, I hope you know what you're doing."

-Let me tell you a story. It's a little different than the one you know.

So about a week ago, I made a post over on Tumblr saying that Nomura needed to hurry up and release Missing-Link because if not, I was going to cave a write a whole AU. What I did NOT mention is that was a last ditch effort to purge this from my brain after it's been chewing on my brain for…about three months? Ish? (Which is, uh…not to mention the fact that I wanted to write a Missing-Link-esque story before Missing-Link was even, like…a thing.) And then a couple of you got very excited over some of the ideas I posted and I think that made the brainworms worse, haha.

Anyway, I severely underestimated how much a lot of these concepts would engage my writing brain, so…I decided to kind of just go ahead and make an AU of it? Missing-Link will debunk a lot of my ideas I'm sure, but that's okay; this is firmly in AU territory, anyways.

Also: no set update schedule for this one! Life is busy and I need the flexibility, aha.

Also also: Starlight_Wayfinder can be blamed for the way this one opened, haha; they sent me a message saying that I could write about Brain hearing legends about the other Union Leaders if I didn't want to write a whole fic, so I co-opted that for the beginning of this chapter.