Remi 🌿

23 | ♊️ | 🇵🇷🌊 New writer #1 Woodkid Enthusiast

[regalrem]

─ Any Love of Any Kind ─

[Masterlist]

PART I

Chapter 1 - Fragile Things Chapter 2 - Everything Is Wrong Chapter 3 - Interlude Chapter 4 - Desire Chapter 5 - Oceans & Engines Chapter 6 - In Your Likeness Chapter 7 - Clarity [NSFW 18+] Chapter 8 - Evermore Chapter 9 - Cleaners Chapter 10 - All I Need Chapter 11 - Latch [NSFW 18+] Chapter 12 - Cognizance Chapter 13 - Headlock [NSFW 18+] Chapter 14 - Connections, Connections Chapter 15 - A Moment Apart Chapter 16 - Spectre

PART II

Chapter 17 - A Debt To Be Paid Chapter 18 - Beside You In Time Chapter 19 - Dreamers Chapter 20 - The First I Love You

crossposted on quotev, wattpad, & ao3 @ regalrem

[daybreak993]

He’s so danmei

[ladyheartblack]

Toph The Bride 🤍

[aquilacalvitium]

Write it badly or it'll never be written

Write it badly or it'll never be written

Write it badly or it'll never be written

Write it badly or it'll never be written

Write it badly or it'll never be written

[aquilacalvitium]

Please keep interacting with this post because when I come to tumblr to procrastinate, this shows up again in my notifications and guilts me into writing again

[tbhsully]

My Kataang heart was BURSTING

[firenaition]

i don't have a single appropriate thing to say

[mugentakeda]

the moment that shook the deviled egg community

[sokkalore]

my beautiful gorgeous sexy water tribe siblings i love you so fucking much you don’t understand

[idknotgonnapost]

they weren’t kidding it really is the year of zukka

[regalrem]

─ Any Love of Any Kind ─

Chapter 20

The First I Love You

════════ 

Knock, knock.

Knock.

Knock, knock

Knock, knock, knock. 

You rhythmically tapped the back of your head against the rough wall, your gaze fixed on nothing in particular. The effects of Jabber's poison had long faded, leaving behind only the relentless ache of your choices. Here you were, isolated among the raiders, after handing over another potent weapon in the naïve hope of… teamwork? 

In the desperate hope of dismantling one of the world’s most oppressive forces? 

In the reckless desire to take down the Caines family and everyone aligned with them? 

Except for Tamsy, of course. 

You glanced down at your palm, peeling away the soiled bandage that had absorbed your rust-colored blood. A wince escaped your lips as the fabric pulled free, and you couldn’t help but think of Tamsy. Another mark, another reminder of him, one that wouldn’t fade away anytime soon. He had left his mark on you—one that would linger, a constant echo atop the many scars that traced your body. 

Tamsy had claimed you in ways that went far beyond the physical, embedding his presence deep within you. No matter how hard you tried to push him away, to fight against the pull he had on your heart, he always found a way to draw you back in. Your fingers grazed the wound, the sting of your sensitive flesh igniting memories that you wished you could forget.

You clenched your palm, forcing your thoughts to shift. What mattered now was the present. Strike a deal with Zodyl, ascend to the Sphere, dismantle it—or perish. There was no room for romance or love, if that’s even what you wanted to call it. You were infatuated with Tamsy, just as he was consumed by his obsession to see you dead.

With Enjin, things were murky. You never quite understood your place with him—two souls bound by shared trauma, unknowingly growing together through it all. He was the tough mentor who refused to let his student falter, a man forged in hellfire, determined to shield others from the same fate. 

It wasn’t a bad thing. Enjin wasn’t a villain, but he had a knack for making you question everything. From the very start, he instilled in you the importance of strength, eagerness, and kindness. He introduced you to a community, a family who would go to the ends of the earth to protect one another. 

And then you left. 

Enjin had given you a reason to fight– a life that extended beyond scavenging for scraps or battling Trash Beasts. He had gifted you purpose: to be a protector, to be a warrior. 

And you tossed it all away. 

He had introduced you to Zanka, a fierce mentor whose intellect matched his skill. Riyo, his ‘firstborn’ whom he cherished– silent and sweet, she had shown you grace and understanding that you hadn’t known you needed. And then there was Rudo, a bond that was rooted far longer than you realized, a figurative younger sibling you cared for as if he were your own.

You couldn’t imagine the thought of how Rudo had taken the news of Tamsy killing Regto. Deep down, you hoped that by the time you returned, Rudo would have already avenged Regto by leaving Tamsy to rot in the wasteland. But Enjin would never allow that. He would never let Rudo sink to such depths, never let him shatter into a million pieces like Tamsy once had.

As if reading your thoughts, Zodyl entered the room, a large bandage in hand. You pressed yourself against the wall, the jagged edges scraping your back as you stood. 

“Your hand,” he stated firmly, stepping closer. He extended his hand, “Let me clean it for you.”

You offered your palm, wincing as he took it, his thumb gently brushing against the cut. 

“Tamsy?” 

“Mhm.” 

You bit your lip as he poured water over your palm, washing away the dirt that clung to your skin. 

“I will help you. But I have one request.” 

He began wrapping the bandage around your hand. 

“Why?” 

His gaze locked onto yours, unwavering. Not that it ever did, but you sensed a flicker of curiosity beneath his stoic exterior. 

“I don’t want to live like this anymore. The Sphere needs to come down, but not be completely destroyed.” 

“It’ll change everything, you know,” he pressed, applying firm pressure to your wrist as he finished the bandage, tucking the end under the folds. “The Ground is home to many. It’s all they’ve ever known. Any change could be catastrophic for those living near the Sphereites.” 

“I agree, but I’d rather not be responsible for killing thousands and face the consequences later. I know there are people in the Sphere who genuinely care; they just can’t voice it. They aren’t living up there… they’re merely surviving.” 

“So what? You want to become a martyr? Have people worship you after you bring the Sphere down and die?” He pressed into your wrist firmly, ripping the edge of the bandage off. 

“Who says I’m going to die?” 

Zodyl scoffed, tossing the leftover bandages onto the bed. 

“If you don’t die taking it down, they’ll make sure to kill you afterward.” 

“I’m stronger than them. I have weapons. I have powers.” 

“Your ego makes me sick,” he retorted, turning away. “Either way, our lives.. your life.. will end one way or another. Death doesn’t spare anyone.” 

He fell silent, staring at the floor. “I’ve seen it.” 

When he looked back at you, his eyes bore into yours. “My… mother… was someone I lost long ago. Her death taught me a harsh truth about the world– one I know we’ll never fully understand. Still, I’ll help you.” 

“Thank you, Z.” 

“Don’t thank me yet. If things don’t go the way you want, I still plan on killing every Sphereite. Even if that includes you.” Zodyl turned away, activating his choker to reach Cthoni. “What’s the status on the Trash Beast?” 

A brief buzz answered him. “It’s almost finished.” 

Zodyl pivoted, striding toward the door. “Eat. Rest. You have a few days until we leave.” 

“Wait. One more thing.” 

“What?” He replied, annoyance lacing his tone. 

“Could Jabber… stitch me up?” 

Even with his back turned, you could sense his amusement. 

“I’m surprised you think he has the skills for that.” 

════════ 

“I love you.” 

“You love me?” 

“I do. I love you, Tamsy.” 

Regret was a foreign concept to Tamsy. He loathed any emotion that didn’t serve him, and for good reason. Weakness was something he couldn’t afford. 

In the days following your departure, his mind spiraled, consumed by obsessive thoughts. With you nearby, he found solace in knowing you were safe, that he could always keep an eye on you. Even during missions with Delmon, his thoughts rarely strayed far from you. 

But now, his energy waned beneath Rudo’s murderous glare, compounded by Semiu’s incessant requests for spare pornmags and her ‘missions’ to gather more. When he had the watchman book, at least he felt justified in taking a break within the Sphere, a luxury he believed he deserved. 

Now, he found himself trapped in a cycle of sleepless nights, his thoughts swarming his mind. 

“You love me?” 

“Shut up.” 

“I do.” 

Why didn’t he say it back? 

He buried his face in the pillow, a futile attempt to drown out the chaos. Squeezing his eyes shut, he was met with visions of you. 

Your smile. Your voice. Your eyes, filled with fear and tears as you pushed the blade away from your palm. The haunting beauty of blood trickling down your soft skin. 

Your lips, your chest rising and falling as you hovered over him, kissing him with a fury that ignited his very soul. Fucking him with passion mixed with confusion. Something he now longed for. 

A feeling he craved but rejected. 

He missed you, and he was unwilling to admit it. 

“You love me?” 

“I do.” 

“I… love…” Tamsy panted, pressing the pillow harder against his head. 

No. He shouldn’t feel this way about anyone. He knew what love was. Deep down, despite the pain he had endured, he understood why he had become this way. 

He had never known the love he yearned for. He was unworthy of being loved for who he truly was. Who could love a monster like him? How could anyone love him when even his own blood turned away? 

Tears slipped down Tamsy’s eyes, not from sorrow, but from rage. 

Why was he acting this way? Why did he hurt you, push you, batter you until you broke? Why couldn’t he step back from the edge of malice and strive to do something good? 

It wasn’t in him. 

If it was, it was trapped- buried deep inside. Locked away in a place even he didn't know where to look. 

“Tell me, Cyrus, have you ever fallen in love?” 

“I have.” He says quietly. “I don’t know what your father means by the making of love, because it cannot be made, Tamsy. Love is something that grows; it feels like a warmth in your heart, a desire to be with someone more, to hold them close and never let them go. To keep a piece of them wherever you are.”

Cyrus was the only one who believed in Tamsy’s potential for goodness. The only man who recognized that beneath the shell of darkness and discontent lay a young boy who craved one thing: love.

Tamsy released the pillow he had been clutching against his head, his fingers reaching out to brush against an old photograph resting on his nightstand. He gazed at it, tears escaping his eyes as he recalled the memories captured within its faded edges.

There you were, standing awkwardly beside him, your father’s hands resting gently on your shoulders. Tamsy stood beside you, his own father looming next to him, their faces worn away by time. The other guests faded into the background, mere shadows of a day long past. It had been years since that birthday—the day you first crossed his path.

A day etched into his heart forever.

It was the day his obsession ignited, the moment he laid eyes on you and felt an unquenchable desire to keep you close, to never let you slip away.

“Love is something that grows; it feels like a warmth in your heart, a desire to be with someone more,”

“To hold them close and never let them go.”

“To keep a piece of them wherever you are.”

His thumb traced the outline of your figure in the photograph, a smile breaking through his sorrow. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you; he didn’t want to let you go. 

He needed you back. He had to ensure your safety. You were meant to be his, and nothing could change that. A marriage proposal wasn’t necessary to keep you by his side for eternity. 

He was determined that nothing would tear you apart from him—not even death. In every lifetime, he would seek you out.

“I love you,” he whispered to the image, the ache in his chest slowly transforming into a tender warmth. 

Sitting up in bed, his long hair cascading over his face, he let out a deep sigh. 

“I love you.”

He needed the universe to hear him, to understand the depth of his devotion. He needed the Heavens to know that-

“I LOVE YOU!” 

He loved you. 

He shouted your name, collapsing back onto his pillows. He had made his choice.

On his next mission, he would leave and not return until he found you.

He would prove his worth, his unwavering devotion, his boundless love.

After all, 

Love is the message, and the message is death.

A/N:

*nervous gulp*

SO I totally know I said I was going to be doing bi-weekly updates... then life happened. And I haven't uploaded in almost two months. I apologize deeply on my behalf!

This is just a quick filler, one to get my brain moving and to get the story going again. I hope all of my readers are doing well and taking care <3

[zyasia]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAMSY!!💕🥳

Ilysm💕

[witchsamlizzie]

Leon Kennedy Fan Art

Credit : taekookie414

[clarks-letterman]

re4 vs re9…. he got wayyyy bigger

[gutt3dz0mb1]

Im a whore for this man its not even funny

[welcome-leon]

this time, it can be different (1998 - 2028)

[leqonsluv3r]

the fucking brainrot…i’m sorry (no i’m not)

[zeldagirl19]

God he's just soooo

[p1nkfreak]

MIGHT be one but we ball regardless ✌🏻

[regalrem]

─ Any Love of Any Kind ─

w.c: 3.6k

Chapter 19

Dreamers

‘My dreams are different than yours. Mine becomes real.’

════════

“C’mon, let's go somewhere more private,” Lake spoke as he rose to his feet, Regto following behind him, leaving Natas and Iron on the couch. They walked over to an empty room. Regto took out the old, worn-down book, placing it on the desk. 

Lake stared at it, his eyes wandering over the leather and sigils on it. “So... what is it? This is the book you almost got us arrested over because you stole it?” 

“Alright, Lake, listen. I need you to trust me on this. This book is worth more than anything you’d ever… ever know.”

Lake sighed and leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. “Is that why you’d never let anyone touch it? You’re so possessive of it.”

“There’s a reason I don’t let anyone touch it. Look, I know we haven’t been on the best of terms lately-”

“You nearly got us all arrested over that damn book!” Lake’s voice escalated, eyes flashing with anger. “You can’t convince me that this book is worth more than our lives.” He scoffed, turning away, frustration spilling over.

Regto lowered his head, exhaling deeply. Anything he said to Lake would be overshadowed by his own selfish actions, which he didn’t condemn. He wished for a way for them to understand that the book was more than just a book. That it was a piece of something far more important than they could’ve ever known. Regto put his hand over it, his finger gently tracing the logo on it. 

“For Heaven's sake, Regto.” Lake reached out, “Just let it go! Is it really that-”

Lake’s fingers touched the book, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. His body twitched and convulsed in pain, and a small line of blood slowly trickled down his nose. Regto quickly grabbed the book, watching as Lake crumpled to the floor.

Lake panted, wiping the blood from his nose. He stood up, his mouth about to open to yell and scream. Regto slammed his hand over his mouth, his arm hitting the desk, sending multiple pens rolling to the floor. He snatched one as Lake mumbled under his grip, quickly writing in the book. His gaze realigned to Lake, watching as his body went limp. 

Regto flung up, walking out of the room to grab the pen. He hadn’t been focused on the noises coming from the couch until he exited the doorway, watching as Natas and Iron quickly separated from each other, their faces red. 

“Are you guys good? You look like tomatoes,” Regto remarked, raising an eyebrow.

“All good,” Natas replied, giving a thumbs-up. Regto nodded, returning to his issue at hand. He bent down, tapping Lake on the shoulder to wake him up. 

“Hey buddy, you okay?”

“W-What happened?” Lake mumbled, rubbing his forehead. “Did I… drink too much again?”

“Yeah. We were talkin’ bout the books while sippin’ on some ale. Wasn’t keeping count, and you passed out for a bit.” 

He never wanted to lie to his friend, but in this instance, it was necessary. 

As Regto and Natas watched Iron and Lake leave, Regto sighed, rubbing his face in exasperation. “This is becoming way too much, Natas.”

“What do you mean?” Natas asked, taking off his glasses and storing them in his pocket. He let his hair flow in the wind as they walked back to their home. 

“Lake touched the book. Don’t you know how dangerous that is? He could’ve died if I hadn’t wiped his memory or been there. Thank the Heavens you distracted Iron with… whatever you two were doing.”

Natas grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets, licking his lips. 

“Do you think they’ll figure it out soon enough?”

“Cousin, stop.” Natas chuckled, “We’ve been ‘friends’ for this long. It’d be a miracle for those two slums to even come close to thinking we’re related. I’d be insulted if they even suggested it.” 

Regto slouched as he walked, his mind swarming with thoughts. Since the day he’d magically appeared in Lake and Iron’s life, it’s felt nothing short of a scam. Natas knew that his cousin was weaker, less driven by the demands of the Caines’ family. However, he was still stronger than his ill-willed brother, Alto, the one who reclaimed the Surebrec name, discarded by the Caines’ family and left to find his own love, his own life. 

“Stop slouching, you look ridiculous,” Natas spoke, watching as the entrance of his home grew larger as he approached. “You know the deal. Meet here at the same time tomorrow.”

Regto was a pawn, one that could easily blend in with both the locals and the royalty. Lake and Iron never questioned how Regto could walk in the richer areas of the Sphere without getting kicked out, figuring that he was just some scandal that the guards got used to. In reality, Regto was more than that. Judas’ brother, Joses, had children of his own. A mirror image of his sibling, however, his appearance differed, as he had black hair and dark eyes, reminiscent of Leba, their long-lost ancestor. Joses separated from the Caines’ family long ago, not wanting to partake in their own corruption and ideals, though they were bound by blood and inherited the insanity that was passed along.

Joses instilled in Regto the importance of the Watchman series, the pieces, and the power they held. No one knew how he came by this knowledge—given the man’s insanity, he seemed like a dreamer, one who could access any information he desired simply by gazing at the sky.

‘My dreams are different than yours. Mine becomes real.’

“Want to hear a riddle, ToTo?” Joses asked, his wide, unsettling eyes fixed on Regto. Regto nodded, having grown accustomed to his father’s odd inquiries. He sat up straight, ready to listen.

"I am the ghost of violence made flesh,A silver thread stitching past to present.I do not bleed, yet I remember blood.I am stronger than what created me,Yet I mark the place where strength was tested.Some wear me proudly, some hide me with art,Some share with me only in the dark of the heart.Seen or unseen, I quietly attest:What name do I bear when wounds have come to rest?"

“That’s obvious,” Regto scoffed, “Scars. Everyone has them. Internally and externally.”“The scars! The scars, boy! Look for the scars, and they’ll lead you anew!”

Regto nodded to end the conversation, oblivious to his father’s riddles, which he commonly spoke in.

“Uh huh…Alright dad.” He spoke as he sat up. “I’m going to-” Joses spoke, interrupting him as he sat down on the floor.

“The three houses rose and fell,A Three-headed dog commanded the hells. A Horse, the great tinkerer of twelve, time turning in endless flow,The Leviathan, forgotten long ago. It’s memories, spoken with ease:I am vast and deep, I cover the Earth, with secrets to keep. My surface may shimmer, but darkness I reap. I'm salty and blue, with waves that pursue, I'm home to great beasts and treasures too…”

A shiver ran down Regto’s spine. He was used to his father’s maniacal riddles about the Sphere, the Heavens, and the Watchman series, but this was one he had never encountered before. Joses swayed back and forth, cradling his knees, staring at the ceiling above him while tears streamed from his bloodshot eyes.

“My tides ebb and flow, as the moon comes and goes. I connect distant lands, where the horizon grows. I can be calm or rage with might, with storms that can pierce, but life in my depths continues to thrive. What am I?”

He stopped swaying, his head slowly turning to look at Regto. He took a step back, his breath hitching as Joses stared at him, waiting for an answer. 

“I-I…” Regto mumbled, “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of anything salty and blue…”

“The ocean.” His father said clearly. “It’ll come soon. Connect the distant lands again. Bring us together. Just… you… wait.”

Joses stopped rocking, lying down on the floor as he reverted his gaze to the ceiling. “The ocean will come… wash it all away. The pain, oh the pain… make it go away…”

Regto had a plan to get out. After his father’s death, the Caines took him in as their own, keeping him hidden away in one of their smaller, quieter homes not too far from theirs. They used him as a tool to hear what the Sphereites were thinking of The Government, a spy to infiltrate the lower ends, used to convince them that their ideals were wrong. 

When Regto stole the book, it was then that he realized he could change those ideals with just a note—one that could alter perceptions, change thoughts, and make people forget what had happened. It wasn’t always accurate, particularly for those who were mentally unstable, who always seemed to know the truth.

He felt the power of the book in his hands as he carried it, the same insanity that his father had within him. If it fell into the wrong hands, it would put the stake of every Sphereite's life at risk. Regto never considered himself one with the Sphere or the Ground, but knew deep down inside that he’d never want to be a part of the Caines’ family as a whole. 

After Iron’s death, Regto couldn’t bear the burden he carried anymore. He used the book on Natas, altering his thoughts to make him forget his betrayal. 

He yearned for freedom.

“I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?” Caines spoke, sitting in his office chair, “And why would you be doing that? Your life is in my debt.”

“I can’t do this anymore, Natas. You killed Iron. You killed my best friend.”

"It's Caines now." 

Regto didn't speak. He'd never call Natas by Caines. He couldn't. Natas carried all of the problems and rage that Regto grew to see. Caines was a cover-up for someone he wanted to forget. He'd be the reminder for him. 

“I loved him,” Caines spoke, silently but sternly. He rose from his chair, leaning against the edge of his desk. “However, I know that it was a higher debt, because I know my duty. I know who I am.”

“Do you?”

It hadn’t been long since Caines murdered his own father, taking control of the Caines’ house. He had more control than ever, his power coursing through the veins of the Sphere and turning it into his own prophecy. Regto knew where his loyalty lay, and it wasn’t with his cousin. 

“Goodbye, Natas.” Regto turned on his heel, carrying the book. He swiftly opened it, writing in the dark pages as he heard Natas behind him. He knew his own cousin more than anyone, and knew that Natas’ only fix for issues was to solve them in violence. He held his blade as he paced towards Regto, spinning it in his palm. 

He raised the blade, lowering it to his back, only to be stopped by himself. A sharp pain swam to his forehead, his body falling to the floor as he gripped his head in pain. Memories of Regto became faceless. His memories with his friends, one body fading into a mysterious shadow. Regto walked away, pocketing the Watchman book, leaving Natas.

He never looked back, adopting the Surebrec name into his, just as Alto did. It was his own form of rebellion. If Natas ever grew to relearn his memories, he'd know who to look for. Regto wasn't scared of him.

Years passed since Regto left everyone behind. He knew that his friend, now called Illarion, had two children of his own—ones he had never met, but he felt an undeniable connection to. Iron had spoken of you often, claiming he had no favorites, yet it was clear that you held a special place in his heart.

Regto continued to stay silent, making a home in a house not too far from the rich neighborhoods of the Sphere. He lived comfortably alone until he had heard news of Alto’s killing spree in the Heavens of the Sphere. He killed multiple members of The Government, probably for good reason, before being caught and exiled to the Pit. Though they were bound by blood, Regto never met Alto. He disappeared from the Caines’ family long before he was taken in. 

One thing that Regto did know was the son that Alto left behind. Rudo. Joses’ words came as a subtle reminder of what has followed in the years of meeting Lake, Natas, and Iron. Regto never thought his father’s riddles were real– until they were. 

First, it started with Lake. Learning about the oceans people was a close enough reminder of his father’s riddle. The greatness Iron saw in his secondborn was a firm reminder of a probability to come. Secondly, came Rudo. Regto had wandered around the area that Alto supposedly lived in, waiting for days, trying to find his lost nephew. He was desperate to find him before Natas did. 

Weeks passed before he finally encountered Rudo, whose hair was a striking blend of white with black ends—a testament to the Caines and Surebrec resemblance. His arms were bandaged and sore, a painful reminder of what had plagued him since birth.

“The scars! The scars, boy! Look for the scars, and they’ll lead you anew!”

He took him in and raised him as his own. 

It was his goal to make sure Rudo never knew of his history or background as a Surebrec, and he would be damned if he ever let the child find out about his connection to the Caines’ family. Natas’ child was growing older, a young teenager around this time. His name was Tamsy. A devil, surely the same as his father. There was a slight possibility that Rudo could have been easily swayed to live with them if he were found, a risk Regto never wanted to take. 

But the truth of it all? All lies come to light. 

════════

The rubble crunched under your feet as you walked alongside Fu. Hii managed to get you a good distance to where the raiders were camping. Each step you took filled you with anxiety. You clutched your bag closer to you, peeking at the contents inside. 

The book moved in the bag with each step you took. Was this the right thing? You can’t wield the book yourself. Who's to say Zodyl wouldn’t take it for himself and fully destroy the Sphere, killing everyone and everything on it? No… he wouldn’t. He can keep a promise. Right? 

“Ugh.” 

Your mind spiraled. There had to be a way you could make sure of your goal and his. He wants to destroy the Sphere. At first, you wanted to as well. The more you thought of it, the more everything made less and less sense. 

What if Caines didn’t sign his wife to take his place instead? If he does, will you kill him afterwards? What if everything goes haywire? Instead of destroying the Sphere fully, why not bring it back down to its rightful place? 

Why not… bring it back down… to its rightful place?

You look up to the sky, a new idea blossoming in your mind. If Caines were to sign his wife into his place, she could establish a new foundation. The Government could get dismantled, and the people– both of the Sphere and the Ground– could make a new one. The Sphereites would have tolearn to survive in the polluted world they had contributed to.  

Fu gently grasped your hand, halting your steps and pulling you from your thoughts. You blinked, focusing on the building before you.

Remember your goals. First Zanka, then your deal.

“We’re here…” Fu shrank back, fear evident on his face as he regarded the entrance.

“Thank you, Fu. You’ve done more for me than I can express. I owe you,” you said sincerely.

You ascended the stairs, knocking on the door. The sound echoed behind it as you took a step back, waiting for a response. Moments later, Cthoni appeared, yanking the door open.

“You.” She spoke coldly, “What do you want?”

“I need to talk to Zodyl.”

“For?”

“A deal. Give me Zanka, and I’ll offer myself… and this.” You pulled out a piece of Tamsy’s clothing and the book, holding it up for her to see. Cthoni’s eyes widened momentarily before she slammed the door in your face. You tucked the book back into your bag.

“Looks like our time’s up, Mr. Bad Attitude,” Jabber remarked as he escorted Zanka to the entrance. Leaning against the wall, he scanned Zanka’s form with a grin. “Don’t forget about me, m’kay?”

“How could I?” Zanka leaned in, “You were a pain in my ass the entire time.” 

“I know you don’t mean that.” Jabber smiled, his arm hooking around Zanka’s waist, pulling him in. “Always so mean till the very end.”

“This won’t be the last time you’ll see me.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

Zanka fell silent, pushing Jabber against the wall with a firm forearm pressing against his chest. He leaned in quickly, placing a kiss on Jabber’s cheek.

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

The door flung back open, and Zanka was roughly pushed from the entrance by Jabber. You caught him in your arms and fell to your knees, holding him tightly against you. He sighed as he felt your fingers run through his hair, wiping away any strands from his face. You frantically observed his face, weary of any cuts, bruises, or new scars, but to your dismay, there were none. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, hugging you back. “You didn’t have to come for me.”

You pulled back, fully being able to see Zanka. He looked fine, a little skinnier, but that wasn’t a shock. The raider’s food cabinet was nothing like the Cleaners'. 

“I was so scared…” You pulled him in, your forehead pressed against theirs, “I thought you were dead, Zanka I… I blamed myself for everything. E-Everyone did. I-I couldn’t leave you here.”

“What?” His eyes bore into you, anger apparent on his face. “You did nothing wrong. How could they?”

“They were scared, Zanka. They didn’t want to lose you.”

“So you come back for me to give yourself in? You don’t have to do this! Don’t be dumb!”

Zodyl appeared at the doorway, looming behind Zanka. 

“You have the book?” He spoke. You nodded. “Let him go. Come in.”

“What book?” Zanka asked.

You took one last glance at Zanka, pulling him in for another hug. You whispered in his ear. “When you get back to the headquarters, tell Rudo to tell you everything. Tell him everything that happened here.” Your voice shook as you felt Zanka hug you tightly, “Tell him I’m sorry.”

“What book?! What book do you have?!” He asked again, only to be ignored.

You pulled away, slipping from Zanka’s grip as you stood up, walking into the building. He watched the doors close behind you, frustration bubbling inside of him. He slammed his assisstaff on the ground, staring at the wasteland. 

“WHAT BOOK?! Ugh!!” He placed his hands on his hips, “Where the hell am I supposed to go?!”

“I-I could help you,” Fu whispered, standing closely behind him. Zanka jumped, raising his staff defensively.

“Where the hell did you come from?!”

“I’ve been here the whole time…”

════════

You trailed behind Zodyl, slipping into a dimly lit room within the building. Setting your bag down on a weathered table, you took a seat across from him, feeling the weight of his gaze as he settled in.

“How did you get the book?” He asked, starting his interrogation. The same as usual, quick and straight to the point. No waste for extra words.

“I stole it,” you replied, the words rolling off your tongue with a sense of defiance.

“From?”

“Tamsy Caines.”

“The cleaner?”

“Yes.”

“How did they have it?”

“Unsure. He’s a Sphereite. Probably took it from up there.”

“Can you hold it?”

“No.”

“So what’s your deal?”

You paused, holding your breath. This was the right thing to do. It was the only way. 

“I need your help. I’ll trade you the book for whatever power you’re after. In return, I want a ride to the Sphere and a team to help dismantle it—not destroy it, but restore it to its rightful place.” 

“You want to bring the land back down?”

“Yes.”

“So, you’re willing to become a Raider now?”

“No. I’d never become a Raider. I guess I’m more of a nomad.” 

You watched Zodyl’s demeanor never change. He looked away, thinking for a moment. 

“This is all purely transactional. Just like… us,” you whispered, hoping to pierce through his stoic demeanor. He looked back at you, eyes narrowing in contemplation.

“With what team do you expect to take down the Sphere? Mine?” 

You sank deeper into the chair, uncertainty creeping in. You hadn’t planned that far ahead, which felt like a gaping hole in your strategy. 

“You either become a Raider or stay a Cleaner.” His words were firm, leaving no room for debate.

“Why do I have to pick a side? I don’t align myself with any ideals from the Cleaners or the Raiders. While one wants to learn the mysteries of the world and adapt to this shithole, the other wants to destroy the oppressor. While I find nothing wrong with both, I want to make an actual change.” 

“My team will consist of those who’ll willingly fight alongside me. Cleaner or Raider, it doesn’t matter.” You spoke sternly. 

Zodyl’s gaze flickered past you, landing on Jabber, who loomed in the doorframe. A subtle nod passed between them.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp prick at your neck, your hand instinctively flying to the spot as warm blood trickled down. Zodyl leaned forward, snatching the book from your bag and flipping it in his hands, fingers gliding over the hard leather cover.

“We’ll discuss this further in a few days,” he said, his tone dismissive. He had a new item in his grasp, one he could easily use on you, or foresee his promise and help you. 

It was all in a matter of his hands what would happen next.

Your head grew heavy, tilting back as your vision blurred. Jabber’s smile twisted into something unsettling as multiple versions of him danced in your fading sight. He scooped you up, carrying you to another room and laying you down on a hard bed.

“Don’t worry, it’s not the hard stuff,” he chimed, jingling keys in his hand. “Just a paralyzer. You’ll be up in no time!”

He left the room, slamming the door behind him. 

Click.