Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the college's main building, casting a golden glow on the bustling students returning from their winter break. There was an air of reluctant energy in the corridors as people greeted each other, hauling bags filled with half-forgotten books and holiday leftovers.

Among them, Kihyun, Hyungwon, and Changkyun moved with an unspoken rhythm that had solidified between them over the break—a connection that was palpable even when they weren’t speaking.

Kihyun walked slightly ahead, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd. Hyungwon and Changkyun trailed behind, their conversation hushed but easy, punctuated by Hyungwon’s soft chuckles at Changkyun’s dry humor.

Despite the casual air, they were all keenly aware of the weight that lingered beneath the surface. The marks, the prophecy, Luceria—everything loomed like a shadow they couldn’t quite shake. But today, they had made a silent agreement to pretend, if only for a few hours, that their lives were just like everyone else’s.

Hyungwon’s psychology lecture was first, a topic he normally enjoyed, though his thoughts kept drifting. As the professor droned on about cognitive distortions, Hyungwon’s hand idly traced the faint outline of where the mark on his chest had appeared the night before.

The glow was gone now, hidden beneath the fabric of his sweater, but he could still feel the residual warmth, like a whisper reminding him of its presence. He tried to refocus, jotting down notes with a precision that belied his distracted mind.

When the class finally ended, Hyungwon stepped out into the chilly afternoon air, relieved to find Changkyun waiting for him just outside the lecture hall. Changkyun looked up from his phone, tucking it into his pocket as he offered a small, lopsided smile.

“Done analyzing brains?” Changkyun asked, falling into step beside him.

Hyungwon rolled his eyes but smirked. “You make it sound so glamorous.”

“Hey, it’s important work,” Changkyun replied, nudging Hyungwon lightly with his elbow. “Someone has to figure out what’s wrong with people like Kihyun.”

Hyungwon laughed softly, the sound low and warm. “I think Kihyun’s beyond saving.”

They wandered toward the library together, Hyungwon pausing occasionally to wave at familiar faces. Inside, the towering shelves were a familiar haven, and they found a quiet corner to sit and sift through texts that might hold even the faintest clue about their predicament.

The Grimoire wasn’t with them—it was too dangerous to bring it to campus—but Changkyun had transcribed several sections, and Hyungwon helped him cross-reference them with historical records. Their heads bent close together over the books, the quiet between them filled with the soft rustle of pages and the occasional murmured observation.

Later in the day, after Changkyun’s physics seminar, the two found themselves walking toward the outdoor basketball courts. Changkyun had checked the time and declared that Kihyun would be finishing his practice soon, and they could all head back together.

As they approached, the sound of sneakers squeaking against the court and the rhythmic thud of a basketball greeted them. The late-afternoon sun cast long shadows across the pavement, and a small crowd of students lingered near the edges, cheering or chatting.

Kihyun was unmistakable among the players, his black tank top clinging to his form, showing off his lean, muscular build and the ink that wound across his arms and shoulders. His burns were hidden by the glamour he had painstakingly perfected, but even without them, there was something raw and commanding about the way he moved.

His tattoos seemed to ripple as he darted around the court with a cocky precision that bordered on arrogance—but he backed it up with skill, sinking three-pointers with ease and weaving through the defense like it was nothing.

Hyungwon and Changkyun stopped near the edge of the court, their eyes drawn to him like magnets. Kihyun, focused on the game, didn’t notice them at first. 

As Kihyun glanced toward the edge of the court, he caught a snippet of his teammates whispering. “Who are they? The tall one looks like a model,” one muttered, earning a quiet chuckle. “And the shorter one? Adorable yet surprisingly managing to look hot at the same time. Think they’re single?”

Kihyun’s eyes flicked to Hyungwon and Changkyun, standing effortlessly elegant, their gazes warm and steady on him. A flicker of pride stirred in his chest, mingled with a possessiveness that burned brighter than his hellfire.

A grin spread across his face, sharp and playful, and he tilted his head slightly, calling out loud enough for the nearby players to hear. “Those two pretty boys over there? They’re mine,” Kihyun announced, his voice carrying easily over the noise. “So, eyes off.”

A grin spread across his face, sharp and playful, and he tilted his head slightly, calling out loud enough for the nearby players to hear.

The comment earned a few chuckles and murmurs from the crowd, and Kihyun followed it up with a wink in their direction, his confidence practically radiating off him. Hyungwon groaned, but there was no hiding the faint flush on his cheeks. Beside him, Changkyun let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

“He’s impossible,” Hyungwon muttered, though his lips quirked into a reluctant smile.

When the game finally ended, Kihyun jogged over to them, sweat glistening on his skin and his hair damp, sticking slightly to his forehead. He was grinning, clearly pleased with himself, and reached out to take the water bottle Changkyun handed him.

“Enjoy the show?” Kihyun teased, unscrewing the cap and taking a long drink.

Hyungwon raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed over his chest. “You already have too much of an ego, Kihyun. The last thing you need is us stroking it.”

Kihyun smirked, lowering the bottle and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Admit it, angel. You were impressed.”

Hyungwon sighed dramatically, turning to Changkyun for backup. “Do you hear this? He’s incorrigible.”

Changkyun chuckled, leaning casually against the railing. “He’s not wrong, though. You were staring pretty hard.”

Kihyun’s grin widened, and he slung an arm around Hyungwon’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “See? Even Einstein agrees. I’m amazing.”

Hyungwon swatted at his chest half-heartedly, his expression caught between exasperation and amusement. “Amazing, huh? Let’s see how amazing you are at carrying all your stuff back to the dorm.”

Kihyun laughed, his arm still draped around Hyungwon as they started walking, Changkyun falling into step beside them. The easy banter and warmth between them felt like a reprieve—a moment of normalcy in the midst of everything else. And for now, it was enough.

The hallway buzzed with life as students flitted between classes and dorms, some still shaking off the last vestiges of their winter break. Kihyun, Hyungwon, and Changkyun moved through the crowd with purpose, their shared determination unspoken yet palpable. Their strides were brisk, though they paused briefly near the vending machines where Minhyuk and Hoseok had been loitering.

“There they are,” Minhyuk called, tossing an empty can into the trash with dramatic flair. “The three musketeers of doom. What’s the rush?”

Hoseok straightened, his ever-gentle demeanor softening his curious expression. “Everything okay?”

“We’re having a meeting,” Hyungwon explained, his tone calm but tinged with urgency. “Jooheon and Shownu are expecting us.”

“Ah, a meeting,” Minhyuk said, falling into step beside them with a playful grin. “Should I prepare my heart for a prophecy update, or are we just gossiping about dorm drama?”

Kihyun gave a low chuckle, his voice dripping with dry humor. “Definitely the prophecy. Though if you’re lucky, I might tell you how Changkyun almost tripped over his own feet during our last brainstorming session.”

“Hey!” Changkyun protested, narrowing his eyes but failing to hide the slight flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. “That’s not how it happened.”

“Sure it isn’t, Einstein,” Kihyun quipped, smirking.

Minhyuk laughed, nudging Changkyun with his elbow. “Don’t worry. You’re still our favorite genius.”

Changkyun smirks,"You mean the only genius?I don't know what you idiots would've done without me"

Hoseok clutches at his chest in fake shock"Kihyun! You've been such a bad influence on our poor innocent child Changkyun" he says hitting Kihyun's shoulder looking like a disappointed mother as he shakes his head at Kihyun.

They reached the dormitory, the lively chatter fading into a heavier silence as they neared Jooheon and Shownu’s door. Hoseok exchanged a glance with Minhyuk, their usual playfulness subdued. The weight of whatever news Hyungwon, Kihyun, and Changkyun were carrying was beginning to sink in.

Kihyun knocked twice before pushing the door open without waiting for a response. Inside, Jooheon was sprawled on the couch with a botanical textbook in his lap, while Shownu stood by the window, gazing out with his usual composed expression.

“You’re late,” Shownu noted, turning to greet them with a slight nod.

“Blame Kihyun,” Changkyun said immediately, earning a scoff from the demon.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Hyungwon said, cutting through the banter with a seriousness that immediately commanded attention.

The group settled into various spots around the room—Kihyun leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, Hyungwon and Changkyun sitting on the couch beside Jooheon, and Minhyuk claiming the armrest with his legs dangling over the side. Hoseok perched on the edge of Shownu’s desk, his brow furrowed with quiet concern.

Hyungwon spoke first, his tone measured. “We’ve had... developments regarding the prophecy. Kihyun, do you want to start?”

Kihyun sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Long story short, my dear old dad summoned me to hell—twice. Once on Christmas, once on New Year’s.”

The room fell silent, all eyes on him. Minhyuk straightened, his usual grin replaced by a rare seriousness. “What?”

“Yeah,” Kihyun said, his tone casual but his jaw tight. “And let me tell you, the second trip was the real party. He gave me six days to kill these two idiots,” he gestured toward Hyungwon and Changkyun, “and when I didn’t, he wasn’t exactly thrilled.”

Hoseok’s face paled, his usual warmth replaced by visible worry. “Kihyun... you didn’t tell us—”

“Why would I?” Kihyun interrupted, his tone sharper than intended. He softened it slightly, his lips twitching into a dry smile. “You were all busy enjoying the holidays. No need to ruin the mood.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Minhyuk muttered, shaking his head. “Do you have any idea—”

“Yes, I do,” Kihyun cut him off, his voice low but steady. “And it doesn’t matter. What matters is that he punished me for not doing it. Hyungwon and Changkyun found me afterward.”

Hyungwon’s gaze darkened, his hands clenching slightly. “We found him in a pool of his own blood,” he said quietly, the words heavy. “He was barely alive.”

Jooheon looked stricken, his wide eyes darting between the three of them. “Was that... where you went on Christmas and New Year’s?”

Kihyun nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yep. Hell of a family reunion.”

“Literally,” Changkyun muttered under his breath.

Hoseok leaned forward, his voice barely above a whisper. “Kihyun, you know what he’s like. Why didn’t you tell us? We could have—”

“Could have what?” Kihyun snapped, though there was no anger in his tone, only exhaustion. “It wouldn’t have changed anything. Azazel doesn’t exactly take guest suggestions.”

Minhyuk let out a frustrated breath, rubbing his temples. “And he knows about... them?” he asked, nodding toward Hyungwon and Changkyun.

“Oh, he knows,” Kihyun said with a humorless laugh. “He figured out his ‘one and only son’ is in love with an angel and a human. Not exactly thrilled about that. Apparently, it’s a disgrace and makes me weak.”

Hyungwon’s eyes softened, and he reached out to place a comforting hand on Kihyun’s arm. “You’re not weak,” he said firmly.

Kihyun didn’t respond, but the brief flicker of gratitude in his eyes was enough.

Changkyun cleared his throat, redirecting the conversation. “There’s more. The punishment... it unlocked something. The symbols on Kihyun’s back—they’re connected to the Grimoire. And just a few hours after we found them, Hyungwon’s chest started glowing with similar marks.”

The room tensed, the weight of the revelation settling over them. Shownu was the first to speak, his voice calm but grave. “What do you think it means?”

Hyungwon opened a book he’d been carrying, the faded text glowing faintly as he flipped through its pages. “I found this in one of the celestial libraries,” he explained. “It was written by a celestial-demonic alliance centuries ago—probably during a similar crisis.”

He paused, his finger tracing a line of text. “It mentions marks like ours. It says they’re pieces of a puzzle, a ritual or test that must be completed together. The symbols form a map.”

“A map to what?” Jooheon asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Hyungwon admitted, his voice heavy with frustration. “But it’s the first real lead we’ve had.”

The group fell silent, their minds racing as they processed the implications. Finally, Shownu spoke, his tone decisive. “Then we need to focus on deciphering it. If the marks are connected to the prophecy, they might be the key to stopping Luceria.”

Everyone nodded, the room charged with a renewed sense of purpose. Despite the tension, there was an unspoken understanding between them—a determination to face whatever came next, together.

The dim light of the desk lamp illuminated the room as the group sat around, surrounded by open books and scraps of paper filled with hastily scribbled notes. Changkyun was poring over the Grimoire, his fingers brushing over the worn edges of the ancient text. The air was thick with the quiet hum of concentration, the weight of their earlier revelations settling heavily over the room.

Suddenly, the Grimoire came to life. The pages flipped rapidly on their own, the faint sound of rustling paper breaking the silence. Changkyun jerked back slightly, his breath catching in surprise as the book settled on a page, the text glowing faintly with an otherworldly light.

The others turned to him, their expressions tense with anticipation. “What is it?” Hyungwon asked, leaning closer.

Changkyun adjusted his glasses, his voice steady but tinged with awe. “It’s talking about a sacred place. It says it belonged to the faerie folk, back when the dark fae and light fae lived together in harmony. They protected an ancient human line—those chosen by the Grimoire.”

Minhyuk’s eyes widened, his usual carefree demeanor giving way to genuine curiosity. “The dark and light fae working together? That’s... ancient history. Most fae don’t even believe it ever happened.”

Jooheon’s expression turned thoughtful, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. “If it’s talking about the fae, my grandmother might know something. She’s always been a keeper of old faerie lore.”

“I can help with that,” Minhyuk chimed in, his voice brightening with enthusiasm. “I know how to navigate fae politics better than most. Plus, I’m charming as hell.”

Kihyun snorted softly. “Debatable.”

Changkyun ignored the banter, his mind already working through logistics. “Alright. Jooheon, Minhyuk, and I will go to your grandmother and see if we can figure out where this sacred place is.”

Shownu, who had been quietly observing, nodded decisively. “Hoseok and I will follow up on a lead about one of Luceria’s old acquaintances from her time as an arbiter. There’s a chance they might know something about her current plans.”

Hyungwon exchanged a glance with Kihyun before speaking. “That leaves us to figure out our part of the prophecy. The Grimoire and the symbols suggest a map, but we need to understand how to read it.”

As the group discussed their plans, the tension in the room slowly eased, replaced by a shared sense of purpose. Kihyun leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed as he watched the others strategize. Despite his usual sarcastic exterior, there was a faint glimmer of pride in his eyes as he observed how seamlessly everyone worked together.

Eventually, the focus shifted from serious discussion to the more immediate concern of hunger. “Alright,” Minhyuk declared, standing up and stretching dramatically. “I don’t know about you all, but I can’t plot the downfall of evil on an empty stomach.”

“Agreed,” Hoseok said with a warm smile. “Let’s order something before we all pass out.”

They settled on takeout, the comforting aroma of food filling the room as they shared a rare moment of levity. The conversation turned lighthearted, punctuated by laughter and teasing as they recounted past misadventures. For a while, the looming threat of Luceria faded into the background.

When the night grew late, they began to disperse, agreeing to meet the next morning to begin their respective missions. As they left the dorm, the chilly night air wrapped around them, their breaths visible in the faint glow of the campus streetlights.

Minhyuk and Hoseok slowed their pace, falling back slightly until they were walking beside Kihyun. Minhyuk grabbed his arm, pulling him to the side. “Alright, demon boy,” he said, his tone serious despite the nickname. “We need to talk.”

Kihyun raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of curiosity and annoyance. “This better not be another intervention.”

“It is, actually,” Hoseok said, his gentle tone undercutting the weight of his words. “If something like that happens with your father again, you need to tell us.”

Minhyuk nodded, his usual playful grin replaced by a look of genuine concern. “We’re your best friends, Kihyun. You don’t get to keep this kind of stuff to yourself.”

Kihyun rolled his eyes, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “Fine. If my dear old dad decides to drag me to hell again, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Good,” Minhyuk said, his grin returning. Then, with a sly smirk, he added, “But seriously, Kihyun—what happened to emo-you who swore you’d never fall in love? Now you’re head over heels for not one but two people.”

Hoseok laughed, the sound warm and infectious. “I remember that phase. ‘Love is a distraction,’ you used to say. What happened to that guy?”

Kihyun groaned, running a hand down his face. “You two are insufferable.”

Minhyuk draped an arm over his shoulder, his grin widening. “We’re just saying, you’ve come a long way, demon boy.”

When they reached the point where their paths diverged, Minhyuk and Hoseok waved them off with exaggerated winks and knowing smiles. Kihyun shook his head, muttering under his breath as he rejoined Hyungwon and Changkyun.

“Let me guess,” Hyungwon said, raising an eyebrow and falling into step beside Kihyun. “They were teasing you about us again, weren’t they?”

Kihyun sighed heavily, his exasperation clear. “Apparently, my emo phase is tonight’s entertainment. Minhyuk and Hoseok decided to remind me—repeatedly—about how I used to be, and I quote, ‘too cool and angsty to care about love.’”

Changkyun stifled a laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Oh, you mean your I-hate-the-world phase? Yeah, I’ve heard stories.”

Hyungwon smirked, his tone light but full of mischief. “The phase where you wore all black, wrote angry poetry, and claimed emotions were for the weak?”

“I did not write poetry,” Kihyun shot back, his glare aimed squarely at Hyungwon. “And it wasn’t a phase. I was being practical . Love makes people stupid.”

Changkyun hummed thoughtfully, feigning deep contemplation. “And yet, here we are. Our resident emo demon is now hopelessly in love. With two people, no less.”

“You know what?” Kihyun said, coming to a sudden stop and pointing a finger at both of them. “Keep it up, and I’m revoking your cuddle passes.”

Changkyun burst out laughing, his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” Kihyun challenged, crossing his arms as if daring them to test his resolve.

Hyungwon tilted his head, his expression mock-thoughtful. “That’s fine. I have Changkyun. I’ll survive.”

“Wow,” Kihyun said, his tone dripping with mock hurt. “So this is what betrayal feels like.”

Hyungwon chuckled softly, his calm demeanor as unshakable as ever. “It’s not betrayal if it’s the truth.”

“Fine. You two can just enjoy your cuddle sessions while I suffer in lonely silence,” Kihyun muttered, sulking as he turned and began walking ahead of them.

Changkyun and Hyungwon exchanged amused glances before hurrying to catch up. “Aww, come on, Kihyun,” Changkyun teased, his voice still warm with laughter. “You know we’re only teasing you because we love you. And your emo phase was adorable.”

“It was not adorable,” Kihyun snapped, though the faint blush creeping up his neck betrayed his indignation.

“Debatable,” Hyungwon said with a smirk, his gaze softening. “But we’ll stop, for now.”

They flanked him on either side, matching his pace. “Seriously, though,” Changkyun said, nudging Kihyun’s shoulder lightly. “We’re not laughing at you. Well, maybe a little. But mostly, we’re just glad you let yourself care about us.”

Hyungwon nodded, his voice steady and reassuring. “You’re not the same person you were back then. And that’s a good thing.”

Kihyun glanced at them, his irritation fading into something softer. “You two are insufferable.”

“But cute,” Changkyun said with a grin.

“Unfortunately,” Kihyun muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched in a reluctant smile.

By the time they reached their dorm, Kihyun’s mood had lifted, the warmth of their banter chasing away the lingering shadows of the night. Their laughter echoed softly in the hallway as they disappeared inside, the bond between them stronger than ever.

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds of their dorm, casting a soft glow across the room as Changkyun quietly slipped out of bed. Kihyun was sprawled on his stomach, his face buried in the pillow, while Hyungwon was curled up on his side, his breathing even and peaceful. Changkyun couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them, his two anchors in the chaos of their lives.

Bending down, he pressed a light kiss to Hyungwon’s forehead, brushing back a stray strand of hair. “Don’t let Kihyun boss you around too much,” he whispered with a smirk before turning to Kihyun. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Kihyun’s temple. “And don’t kill each other while I’m gone, okay?”

Kihyun stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent into the pillow, while Hyungwon’s lips twitched into a small smile, though his eyes stayed closed. Satisfied, Changkyun grabbed his bag and slipped out of the dorm, leaving the warm, sleepy haven behind to face the task ahead.

Minhyuk was waiting outside his dorm, leaning against the doorframe with a grin that was too bright for the early hour. “Good morning, genius,” he chirped as Changkyun approached.

“Morning,” Changkyun replied with a yawn. “Where’s Hoseok?”

Minhyuk shrugged. “Still asleep. I figured he deserved it since he’s not coming with us today.” He gestured for Changkyun to come inside. “Jooheon should be here any minute.”

As if on cue, there was a knock, and Minhyuk threw the door open with dramatic flair. “Jooheonnie! Right on time.”

Jooheon grinned, holding up a paper bag. “I brought snacks. Figured we’d need fuel for the day.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Minhyuk said, snatching the bag and peeking inside. “Ooh, pastries. You really know how to spoil us.”

Changkyun chuckled as they grabbed their things and headed out. The walk to Jooheon’s grandmother’s house was filled with lighthearted chatter, Minhyuk teasing Jooheon about his impeccable manners, and Jooheon firing back about Minhyuk’s knack for getting them into trouble. Changkyun found himself laughing more than he had in days, the tension from their recent discoveries momentarily lifting.

When they arrived, Jooheon’s grandmother was already waiting on the porch, her silver hair glinting in the sunlight. She had the same warm, mischievous energy as her grandson, and she greeted them with a twinkle in her eye.

“Joohoney, you brought friends!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug before turning to Minhyuk and Changkyun. “And who are these handsome young men?”

“This is Minhyuk and Changkyun,” Jooheon introduced, slightly red-faced. “They’re... helping with something important.”

“Important, huh?” She eyed them knowingly, her sharp gaze making them feel as though she could see right through them. “Well, come on in. I’ve got tea on the stove.”

The interior of her house was cozy, filled with eclectic decorations and shelves crammed with books. They settled around a large oak table as she poured them tea, her movements graceful despite her age.

“So,” she said, settling into her chair and fixing them with a shrewd look. “You’re here about the sacred land, aren’t you?”

Changkyun nodded. “We believe it’s connected to the prophecy and the Grimoire. We need to find it.”

Jooheon’s grandmother let out a soft hum, her expression turning somber. “The sacred land…” she murmured. “It’s a place of great power, hidden for centuries after the war that divided the fae.”

She leaned forward, her voice lowering as she began to recount the tale. “Long ago, before the light and dark fae were divided, we lived in harmony. We protected the humans chosen by the Grimoire, keeping them safe from those who sought its power. But then came an ancient—a being of immense darkness. It sought the Grimoire, desperate to control it. When we refused to reveal its location, the ancient pitted the dark and light fae against each other, planting seeds of mistrust and hatred. The war that followed was devastating. The sacred land, once a sanctuary, was hidden to protect it from the ancient and its followers.”

Her voice grew heavy with emotion as she continued. “Few know its exact location, but I have books—records passed down through my family. They might help.”

She retrieved a stack of old, leather-bound books from a nearby shelf, placing them on the table with reverence. “These should guide you, but be careful. The sacred land is not without its dangers.”

They spent the next few hours poring over the books, the room filled with the sound of rustling pages and murmured discussions. Minhyuk’s artistic eye caught details in the illustrations, while Changkyun’s sharp mind pieced together the cryptic clues. Finally, Jooheon pointed to a map etched into one of the pages.

“Here,” he said, his finger tracing the outline of a forested area. “This matches the description.”

Changkyun nodded, his heart racing. “We need to go there.”

Jooheon’s grandmother placed a hand on his shoulder. “Be cautious, child. The forest has its own guardians, and they may not take kindly to intruders.”

They thanked her profusely before leaving, the map clutched tightly in Changkyun’s hand. The journey to the forest was tense, the three of them on high alert as they followed the map’s directions. When they reached the enclosure, it was breathtaking—a circle of towering trees, their branches intertwining to form a natural dome.

Jooheon approached the center, placing his hand on the stone barrier that blocked their way. A faint hum of energy pulsed beneath his palm, but the barrier didn’t budge. Minhyuk tried next, but the result was the same.

Changkyun stepped forward, his brow furrowed in thought. “I think it requires all three of us,” he said, gesturing for them to join him.

Reluctantly, Jooheon and Minhyuk placed their hands on the barrier alongside Changkyun’s. As soon as their hands connected, the barrier began to glow, the intricate symbols carved into its surface lighting up in a brilliant display. The air around them seemed to vibrate, a low, resonant hum filling the space.

With a final surge of energy, the barrier dissolved, revealing a path that led deeper into the forest. Changkyun’s chest tightened with anticipation as they exchanged a glance.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice steady despite the pounding of his heart.

Jooheon nodded, his jaw set with determination. “Let’s find out what’s waiting for us.”

Minhyuk flashed a grin, though his eyes betrayed his nerves. “Let’s hope it’s not something that bites.”

With that, they stepped forward, the unknown waiting to reveal its secrets.

The path stretched ahead of them, winding through the dense forest. The trees loomed tall and ancient, their gnarled branches weaving a canopy that filtered the sunlight into patches of gold and shadow. The air was cool, carrying a faint, earthy scent that whispered of secrets long buried beneath the forest floor.

Changkyun led the way, the map in his hands glowing faintly, as though the Grimoire itself guided them. Jooheon stayed close, his senses heightened, every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig making his grip tighten on the hilt of the blade strapped to his side. Minhyuk trailed slightly behind, his gaze darting around with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“It’s too quiet,” Jooheon murmured, breaking the silence. His voice was low, barely audible over the crunch of their footsteps.

“You’re not wrong,” Minhyuk said, his usual cheer subdued. “It’s like the forest is holding its breath.”

Changkyun glanced back at them, his expression calm but his eyes sharp. “Stay close. We’re almost there.”

As they pressed forward, the atmosphere grew heavier, the air thick with a strange energy that made their skin tingle. The path ended abruptly at a clearing, the ground before them marked with intricate carvings that spiraled outward like veins, glowing faintly with a soft blue light. In the center stood a stone pedestal, its surface smooth and unblemished, save for three indentations shaped like hands.

“This must be it,” Jooheon said, stepping forward cautiously.

Minhyuk’s eyes widened. “So we’re just supposed to... what? Touch it?”

“Looks like it,” Changkyun said, scanning the markings. “But this isn’t just about opening a door. This is a test.”

“A test?” Minhyuk raised a brow. “We love a vague ancient prophecy challenge.”

Jooheon shot him a look, but his lips twitched into a brief smile. “Let’s get this over with.”

The three of them moved to the pedestal, hesitating for a moment before placing their hands into the indentations simultaneously. The carvings flared to life, the blue light brightening until it became almost blinding.

The world seemed to tilt beneath their feet, and suddenly they were no longer standing in the clearing. The forest was gone, replaced by a vast, empty space where the air shimmered like a mirage. Around them floated fragments of memory—images of the fae, both light and dark, standing together as equals, their hands clasped in unity.

A deep, resonant voice echoed around them, neither male nor female but something ancient and boundless. “Prove yourselves worthy.”

The ground beneath them shifted, and from the mist emerged shadowy figures, their forms twisting and warping. They lunged toward the trio without warning, their movements erratic but terrifyingly fast.

Jooheon reacted instantly, drawing his blade and stepping in front of the others. His strikes were precise, cutting through the shadows as they dissolved into nothingness. Minhyuk darted around him, his hands weaving illusions that confused the figures, causing them to stumble and falter.

Changkyun stood back, the Grimoire’s power flickering at his fingertips. He channeled its energy, sending bursts of light toward the shadows, each impact causing them to shrink and dissipate.

The battle felt endless, the shadows reforming as quickly as they were destroyed. Sweat dripped down their faces, their breathing labored.

“This isn’t working!” Minhyuk shouted, narrowly dodging an attack.

“It’s a test,” Changkyun repeated, his mind racing. “We’re not supposed to fight them. We’re supposed to—”

He broke off, realization dawning. “Unity. We have to work together.”

“How are we not doing that already?” Jooheon gritted out, slicing through another shadow.

“No, not like this. We need to combine our strengths.” Changkyun stepped forward, his hands glowing with the Grimoire’s light. “Trust me.”

Jooheon hesitated for only a moment before nodding. He stepped beside Changkyun, his blade lowering as he placed a hand on Changkyun’s shoulder. Minhyuk followed suit, his illusions fading as he joined them, their energies intertwining.

The light from the Grimoire intensified, spreading outward in a wave that engulfed the shadows. The figures let out a shrill, echoing cry before dissolving completely, leaving the space silent and still.

The voice returned, softer this time. “You have passed. Remember, unity is your greatest strength.”

The shimmering air around them faded, and they were back in the clearing. The pedestal glowed one final time before revealing a hidden compartment. Inside was a small, ancient key, its surface etched with runes.

Changkyun picked it up carefully, his fingers trembling slightly. “This... this is it.”

Jooheon let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “We did it.”

Minhyuk grinned, though his exhaustion was evident. “Not bad for a couple of misfits, huh?”

They shared a laugh, the tension of the trial melting away. As they turned to leave, Jooheon glanced back at the pedestal, his expression thoughtful.

“What do you think lurks ahead?” he asked quietly.

“Whatever it is,” Changkyun said, pocketing the key, “we’ll face it together.”

With that, they made their way back through the forest, the path ahead uncertain but their resolve stronger than ever.

The trio walked back through the forest, their steps lighter despite the tension still lingering in the air. Changkyun held the ancient key carefully in his hand, its faint warmth pulsing against his palm as if it were alive. The runes etched into its surface shimmered faintly, as though reacting to his touch.

“What do you think it unlocks?” Minhyuk asked, peering over Changkyun’s shoulder. “A treasure chest? A secret weapon? Maybe a hidden realm full of fae snacks?”

Jooheon chuckled softly, his demeanor finally relaxing now that they were out of immediate danger. “I doubt the Grimoire would send us on a snack run, Minhyuk.”

Changkyun turned the key over in his fingers, his brow furrowed in thought. “It’s not just a key. It’s... something more. The energy it’s giving off feels like it’s connected to the Grimoire somehow. I think it’s part of the prophecy.”

Minhyuk tilted his head. “Okay, Einstein, but what’s the next step? Do we shove it into some magical lock and hope for the best?”

“Not exactly,” Changkyun said with a small smirk. “The Grimoire might have answers. It’s been responding to everything so far—guiding us.”

“Let’s hope it starts singing like a bird, then,” Minhyuk muttered. “I’m too pretty to be stuck on a riddle forever.”

As they stepped out of the dense forest and into the clearing near the edge of Jooheon’s grandmother’s property, the weight of the key grew heavier in Changkyun’s hand. The Grimoire strapped to his side hummed faintly, its bindings glowing softly as if reacting to the presence of the key.

Jooheon noticed and nodded toward it. “Looks like you were right. Whatever that key unlocks, the Grimoire’s tied to it.”

“Let’s head back to your grandmother’s,” Changkyun said. “Maybe she knows something about this. She had books on the sacred land; maybe she’s seen this key before.”

They arrived back at the small, cozy house, the scent of freshly brewed tea wafting out as Jooheon pushed the door open. His grandmother was already seated at the table, her sharp eyes scanning a thick, leather-bound tome. She looked up and smiled warmly at the trio.

“Back so soon? You look like you’ve been wrestling with shadows.”

Minhyuk leaned against the doorframe dramatically. “You wouldn’t believe the day we’ve had, Grandma.”

Jooheon shot him a look but didn’t comment. Instead, he held up the key. “We found this. It was hidden in the sacred land. Do you recognize it?”

Her gaze sharpened as she rose from her chair and approached, her hands hovering over the key but not touching it. “Oh, yes,” she murmured. “This is no ordinary key. It’s a fragment of an ancient artifact—a lock that binds something far older than even the fae.”

“Older than the fae?” Minhyuk echoed, his curiosity piqued.

She nodded gravely. “Before the fae split into light and dark, before the war that fractured our harmony, there was a pact. The Grimoire wasn’t just a book; it was a safeguard, a tool to seal away knowledge too dangerous for any one being to wield. That key is part of the mechanism meant to unlock it.”

“So, we’re unlocking... what, exactly?” Jooheon asked.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Knowledge. Power. And with it, responsibility. The map you found leads to the central point where the pact was made—a sanctuary created to keep the balance between the realms. The key will grant you access, but it will test you before it allows you to proceed.”

Minhyuk groaned. “More tests? Haven’t we proved ourselves enough?”

“This is only the beginning,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “The sanctuary is hidden deep within the forest, surrounded by ancient wards and guardians that have been there since the pact was first created. If you truly intend to proceed, you must be prepared.”

Changkyun’s grip tightened on the key. “We don’t have a choice. If this is connected to the prophecy, then we need to unlock whatever’s waiting for us.”

Jooheon’s grandmother studied him for a moment before nodding. She moved to a shelf, retrieving a slender, worn book and handing it to him. “This will guide you through the wards. It’s not much, but it’s all I have.”

Changkyun accepted the book with a small bow of gratitude. “Thank you. We’ll be careful.”

She smiled, her eyes filled with both pride and worry. “Be more than careful. Be wise. The sanctuaries were built to test not just strength, but character. They will see through any deception.”

As the trio prepared to leave again, her voice stopped them at the door. “And remember—what you unlock, you must also be ready to control. Not everything meant to be sealed should be freed.”

The warning hung heavily in the air as they stepped back outside. The forest loomed ahead, the path dark and uncertain, but they pressed forward, their resolve unshaken. Whatever waited at the sanctuary, they would face it together.

The forest seemed darker than before as the trio moved deeper into its heart. The air was thick with a quiet tension, the usual hum of nature muted as if the woods were holding their breath. Changkyun kept the key in one hand and the slender guidebook from Jooheon’s grandmother in the other, flipping through the fragile pages. The text was ancient, written in a language that seemed to shift under the faint glow of his flashlight.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Minhyuk asked, his tone light but tinged with unease. He glanced over his shoulder, his usually bright demeanor dimmed by the oppressive atmosphere.

Changkyun nodded, his focus unwavering. “The map from earlier lines up with the landmarks in this book. We’re close. Stay alert—the wards could show up at any moment.”

“I love how you casually say that,” Minhyuk muttered, his hand resting on the hilt of the dagger strapped to his hip. “Just ‘stay alert,’ like we’re not walking into some ancient, booby-trapped forest.”

Jooheon, walking beside Minhyuk, offered him a reassuring smile. “We’ve made it this far. Besides, we have Changkyun’s genius brain and your flair for chaos. What could go wrong?”

Minhyuk gave him a look. “A lot, Jooheon. A lot could go wrong.”

As they continued, the path began to change. The ground beneath their feet became smoother, almost unnaturally so, as if polished by unseen hands. The trees thinned, their twisted branches giving way to towering pillars of stone, each inscribed with faintly glowing runes. The air grew colder, carrying a faint hum that resonated deep in their chests.

“This is it,” Changkyun said, his voice barely above a whisper. He stopped in front of a massive archway formed by two intertwined trees. Their bark shimmered with silver and gold veins, pulsating like a heartbeat. At the center of the arch, a faintly visible barrier shimmered, rippling like water when Changkyun stepped closer.

“Okay, so how do we get in?” Minhyuk asked, tilting his head as he studied the barrier. “Do we knock? Say a magic word?”

Changkyun held up the key. “The wards should recognize this. But it’s not just about unlocking the door—it’s about proving we’re meant to.”

“Proving it how?” Jooheon asked.

As if in response, the runes on the arch began to glow brighter, and the barrier pulsed once, then again. The hum in the air grew louder, and the ground trembled beneath their feet. Changkyun stepped closer, the key in his outstretched hand. The barrier seemed to pull toward it, the shimmering surface distorting around the key’s edges.

Suddenly, a voice echoed around them, low and resonant, speaking in a language none of them could understand. The runes on the arch flared brighter, casting long, shifting shadows across the forest floor.

“Okay, that’s not creepy at all,” Minhyuk muttered, gripping his dagger tightly.

Changkyun frowned, his eyes scanning the guidebook. “It’s a test,” he said finally. “The wards require all three of us to prove we’re aligned with the Grimoire’s purpose. We have to work together.”

“What does that mean?” Jooheon asked, his gaze darting to the barrier, which was now pulsing steadily, its rhythm matching their heartbeats.

Changkyun held out the key. “We have to place our hands on it—together. It’s connected to all of us.”

Minhyuk hesitated. “You sure it won’t, I don’t know, zap us into oblivion?”

“Only one way to find out,” Changkyun said with a faint smirk.

Jooheon stepped forward, his expression determined. “Let’s do it. If this is what the Grimoire needs, we don’t have a choice.”

Minhyuk sighed, muttering something under his breath before stepping up beside them. “Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting you both.”

They each placed a hand on the key. The instant their skin touched the cool metal, the runes on the arch blazed to life, and the barrier exploded outward in a wave of golden light. The air around them shimmered as the key grew warmer under their hands, vibrating with a deep, resonant hum.

The archway began to shift, the intertwined trees unraveling and reforming into a pair of ornate doors carved with intricate patterns of fae and human figures. At the center of the doors, an indentation in the exact shape of the key appeared, glowing faintly.

“Looks like it’s our way in,” Changkyun said, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. He inserted the key into the slot and turned it. The doors groaned as they swung open, revealing a vast, circular chamber beyond.

The room was breathtaking. The walls were covered in murals depicting the ancient harmony between light and dark fae, humans, and celestial beings. A massive, glowing tree stood at the center, its branches stretching to the domed ceiling, its roots weaving through the floor like veins of light.

“This is incredible,” Jooheon whispered, stepping inside. “It’s... alive.”

Minhyuk followed, his eyes wide as he took in the sight. “This is way better than a snack stash.”

Changkyun moved to the base of the tree, where a pedestal rose from the ground, its surface etched with symbols matching the ones on the Grimoire. The book at his side vibrated, and he carefully set it on the pedestal. The symbols flared, and the room filled with a warm, golden light.

The voice from earlier returned, softer this time, almost welcoming. The tree’s branches shifted, forming patterns of light that danced across the chamber. A single, glowing orb descended from the canopy, hovering in front of them.

Changkyun reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he touched the orb. A surge of warmth spread through him, and he gasped as images flooded his mind—fragments of a long-lost history, the purpose of the Grimoire, and the weight of the prophecy they were destined to fulfill.

When the light faded, the orb dissolved, leaving Changkyun breathless but resolute. “We know where to go next,” he said, his voice steady. “And what we need to do.”

Minhyuk and Jooheon exchanged glances, then nodded. Together, they stepped back out into the forest, the path ahead clearer than ever.

The air seemed lighter as they stepped out of the chamber, the tension in the forest lifting as if the trees themselves were exhaling. The door to the sanctuary melted back into the intertwined trees, sealing behind them. The key, now warm to the touch, glimmered faintly in Changkyun’s hand before dissolving into tiny motes of light that scattered into the air.

“Well,” Minhyuk said, brushing his hands together as if he’d done the hard work, “that wasn’t so bad. A glowing tree, some cryptic images, no deadly traps. All in all, I’d give this adventure a seven out of ten.”

Jooheon chuckled, the sound breaking the quiet. “Seven? Really? What would make it a ten? Snacks?”

“Obviously,” Minhyuk said, grinning. “Also, maybe fewer spooky voices. Not my vibe.”

Changkyun rolled his eyes fondly, sliding the Grimoire back into his bag. The book seemed to hum with contentment, its presence less heavy now, as if satisfied with the answers it had revealed. He pulled out his phone, glancing at the time—it was later than he’d expected.

“I should text the others,” he said, already typing. His thumbs moved quickly over the screen: Found some major answers. Meet tonight—too much to type. Be ready.

He sent the message to the group chat, then slipped his phone back into his pocket. “They’ll probably freak out about what we found.”

“Good,” Minhyuk said, slinging an arm around Jooheon’s shoulders as they started back toward the edge of the forest. “Let them freak out for once. I’m always the one freaking out.”

“You freak out about breakfast decisions,” Jooheon teased.

“Breakfast is important!” Minhyuk protested, earning a laugh from both Jooheon and Changkyun.

As they reached the forest’s edge, the sunlight filtering through the trees felt almost blinding after the dim glow of the sanctuary. The trio paused, taking a moment to catch their breath and soak in the open air. Jooheon stretched his arms overhead, his usual sunny demeanor back in full force.

“So,” he said, turning to Changkyun. “What’s next?”

“We share what we found,” Changkyun replied, his tone thoughtful. “The Grimoire showed me... pieces of the prophecy. I think it’s connected to more than just the sacred place. There’s something about the balance between the light and dark fae—and their connection to humans. We’ll need to figure out what it all means.”

“And that’s where the brainiac takes over,” Minhyuk said, winking at Changkyun. “You’re good at the big-picture stuff. Me? I’m just here for the fun.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Jooheon said, nudging him. “You’re pretty handy in a pinch.”

“Damn right,” Minhyuk replied with mock pride. “Let’s just hope the others are ready for what we’re about to unload on them.”

As they walked back toward the clearing where they’d parked their car, Changkyun glanced at the forest behind them. The sanctuary was hidden once more, its secrets safe until needed again. A sense of determination settled over him as he followed Jooheon and Minhyuk, their laughter cutting through the stillness of the afternoon.

Their mission wasn’t over, but they had taken the first step—and they weren’t doing it alone.

The sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows across the narrow cobblestone streets. Shownu and Hoseok moved quietly through the town, their steps purposeful but unhurried. The small village seemed untouched by time, its rustic charm belying the tension that lingered in the air. This wasn’t a place for tourists—it was a refuge for the kind of people who thrived in secrecy and shadows.

Hoseok glanced at Shownu as they turned a corner, his voice low. “You’re sure this is the place?”

Shownu nodded, his expression as calm and unflinching as ever. “The records were clear. This is where she’s been seen before. If anyone knows about Luceria’s connections, it’ll be her.”

They approached a modest-looking tavern nestled between two dilapidated buildings. Its wooden sign creaked in the faint breeze, the letters worn but still legible: The Silver Cask . The faint hum of conversation could be heard from within, mingled with the occasional burst of laughter or the clinking of glasses.

Hoseok hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open, his heightened senses immediately assaulted by the mix of scents and sounds inside. The air was thick with the aroma of aged ale, wood smoke, and something faintly metallic—blood, though not fresh.

The patrons barely glanced at the newcomers, their focus fixed on their drinks or quiet conversations.

Shownu scanned the room, his sharp eyes landing on a woman seated in a dark corner. Her hood was pulled low over her face, but the faint glow of her crimson eyes beneath it betrayed her nature. A demon, no doubt, and not one easily approached.

“That’s her,” Shownu murmured, tilting his head toward the woman.

Hoseok followed his gaze, his grip tightening on the strap of the bag slung over his shoulder. “She doesn’t look particularly welcoming.”

“She doesn’t need to be,” Shownu replied evenly. “We’re not here to make friends.”

They crossed the room, their footsteps measured and deliberate. The woman didn’t look up as they approached, her long, clawed fingers tracing the rim of her goblet. Shownu stopped a respectful distance from the table, his tone neutral but firm.

“We’re looking for someone who knew Luceria when she was an arbiter,” he said, cutting straight to the point. “Word is, you might be able to help.”

The woman let out a soft, humorless laugh, finally raising her gaze to meet his. “Help? That’s a dangerous word in places like this.” Her voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it, like a blade hidden beneath silk. “What makes you think I’d do anything for you?”

“Because you’re not particularly fond of her either,” Hoseok interjected, his tone light but laced with a quiet confidence. “We’ve done our homework. We know she betrayed more than a few of her so-called allies on her way to power. Including you.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed, the tension in the air thickening. For a moment, Hoseok wondered if they’d overplayed their hand. But then she smiled—a slow, dangerous curve of her lips that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Clever little bloodsucker,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Fine. I’ll tell you what I know. But only because I hate her more than I hate the two of you.”

She gestured for them to sit, and they took the seats opposite her. The next hour was a careful dance of questions and answers, the woman revealing fragments of Luceria’s past—her alliances, her betrayals, and the web of influence she had spun.

“Luceria always had a fascination with forbidden power,” the woman said, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the table. “Even when she was an arbiter, she sought out knowledge that should have been left buried. There’s a name she mentioned once—Azaen. An ancient who dealt in secrets too dangerous for most to handle.”

“Azaen,” Shownu repeated, committing the name to memory. “Do you know where we can find him?”

The woman’s smile sharpened. “Finding him is one thing. Surviving him is another. But if you’re determined, there’s an old monastery in the mountains east of here. It’s abandoned now, but some say his presence lingers there.”

“Thank you,” Shownu said, his tone sincere despite the woman’s hostility. He stood, sliding a small pouch of coins across the table. “For your trouble.”

The woman’s eyes flicked to the pouch, then back to him. “You’d better hope you never see me again, Nephilim,” she said, her smile fading. “Because next time, I won’t be so accommodating.”

They left the tavern without another word, the weight of the new information settling between them. Hoseok glanced at Shownu as they walked back into the fading light of the evening.

“Azaen,” Hoseok said, his brow furrowed. “Think he’s connected to all of this?”

“If he isn’t, he’ll still know something we can use,” Shownu replied. “We’ll regroup with the others and figure out our next move.”

Hoseok nodded, pulling out his phone as they reached the edge of town. “I’ll text the group. Let them know we’ve got a lead.”

As Hoseok typed out the message, Shownu’s gaze drifted to the horizon. The mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks shrouded in mist. Azaen awaited them—another piece of the puzzle, another step closer to unraveling Luceria’s plan.

They walked in silence for a moment before Hoseok spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “Think we’ll ever have a day where we don’t deal with ancient evils or apocalyptic threats?”

Shownu chuckled softly, the sound rare but genuine. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t count on it.”

The two of them shared a brief, knowing smile before continuing their journey, the weight of their mission pressing on but their resolve unshaken.

The chill evening air in the mountains was thin and sharp, biting at their skin as Shownu and Hoseok trudged up the uneven path. The monastery lay shrouded in mist, its silhouette looming like a ghostly sentinel against the rocky cliffs. It had been hours since they left the village, armed with only the vague directions from the demon informant and their own instincts.

Hoseok adjusted the strap of his bag, his breath fogging in the chill. "This is the kind of place people go to disappear forever," he muttered.

Shownu, ever stoic, kept his eyes on the path ahead. "Good thing we're not most people," he replied, his tone even.

As they crested the final ridge, the monastery came into full view—a sprawling, ancient structure carved into the side of the mountain. Its stone walls were weathered but sturdy, etched with faded runes that seemed to pulse faintly in the dim light.

The main entrance was a massive archway, flanked by two crumbling statues of winged figures. Their faces had been eroded by time, leaving behind only hollow sockets where their eyes should have been.

"This is it," Shownu said, his voice quiet but certain.

They approached the entrance cautiously, their footsteps echoing against the stone. The air grew heavier as they stepped inside, a palpable pressure that settled over their shoulders like a cloak. The interior was a cavernous hall, its vaulted ceiling supported by rows of stone pillars. The only light came from the faintly glowing runes that lined the walls, casting an eerie, shifting luminescence.

Hoseok's sharp eyes scanned the space, his hand hovering near the hilt of the dagger at his hip. "Doesn't exactly scream 'welcome,' does it?"

Before Shownu could respond, a voice echoed through the hall, deep and resonant, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "You tread where the unworthy perish. Speak your purpose, or leave while you still can."

Both men froze, their eyes darting around the room. The voice was neither hostile nor welcoming—it simply was, an undeniable force that demanded attention.

"We seek knowledge," Shownu said, his tone calm but firm. "About Luceria, the ancient arbiter. And about the grimoire."

There was a long silence, the kind that made the air itself feel heavier. Then, from the shadows at the far end of the hall, a figure emerged.

Azaen was not what either of them expected. He was tall and gaunt, his skin as pale and translucent as frost on glass. His eyes glowed with an unsettling light, a swirling mix of gold and green that seemed to pierce through flesh and bone. His robes were tattered but regal, stitched with symbols that pulsed faintly in time with the runes on the walls.

"You seek much," Azaen said, his voice carrying a weight that made even the stone pillars feel insignificant. "But knowledge is never without cost."

"We're prepared to pay," Shownu said, stepping forward.

Azaen tilted his head, his gaze shifting to Hoseok. "And you? Are you prepared to bleed for truths that may undo you?"

Hoseok met the ancient's gaze without flinching, though his grip on his dagger tightened. "If it helps stop Luceria, then yes."

The faintest hint of a smile crossed Azaen's lips. "Very well. But first, a test."

With a wave of his hand, the runes on the walls flared to life, their light blinding for a moment. When it dimmed, the hall had transformed. The space was now a labyrinth, its walls twisting and shifting as if alive.

"Find me," Azaen's voice echoed. "If you can."

Shownu and Hoseok exchanged a glance, their resolve hardening. Without a word, they began to move through the maze, their senses on high alert. The walls seemed to pulse and breathe, and the air was thick with a faint, acrid scent.

As they turned a corner, a shadow detached itself from the wall and lunged at them. Hoseok reacted instantly, his dagger flashing in the dim light as he deflected the attack. The creature was humanoid but twisted, its limbs elongated and its face featureless save for a gaping maw.

"These must be the 'unworthy,'" Hoseok said grimly, kicking the creature back before it could strike again.

"Keep moving," Shownu said, drawing a sword that shimmered with celestial light. With a single, precise strike, he dispatched the creature, its body dissolving into ash.

The labyrinth was relentless, throwing obstacle after obstacle in their path. Shadows coalesced into monsters, the walls shifted to block their progress, and the air itself seemed to conspire against them. But together, they pressed on—Shownu’s calm precision and Hoseok’s quick reflexes making them an unstoppable team.

Finally, they emerged into a circular chamber at the heart of the maze. Azaen stood in the center, his expression unreadable.

"You have proven your worth," he said, his voice quieter now but no less commanding. "Ask your questions."

Shownu stepped forward. "What is Luceria planning? And how does the grimoire fit into it?"

Azaen regarded them for a long moment before speaking. "Luceria seeks to rewrite the fabric of existence. The grimoire is the key—not for its power, but for the balance it represents. It was forged by the union of light and dark, and only such a union can wield it fully. She cannot control it, but she can destroy it. And if she does, the balance will shatter, and chaos will reign."

He paused, his glowing eyes narrowing. "The sacred place you seek may provide answers, but it will also test you. And Luceria is not the only force that wishes to claim it."

"Where is it?" Hoseok asked, his voice urgent.

Azaen raised a hand, and an ethereal map appeared in the air. It marked a location deep within an ancient forest, far from any civilization. "This is where you must go. But tread carefully. What guards the place is older and more dangerous than even Luceria."

With that, the labyrinth dissolved around them, leaving them once again in the empty hall. Azaen was gone, his presence lingering only in the faint glow of the runes.

Hoseok let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. "Well, that was... intense."

Shownu nodded, his expression thoughtful. "We have what we need. Let’s get back to the others."

As they made their way out of the monastery, Hoseok pulled out his phone, sending a message to the group: Found out a lot. Heading back now. Be ready.

They descended the mountain in silence, the weight of their mission heavier than ever but their resolve stronger than before.

The morning light was still hazy as Kihyun and Hyungwon stood in the middle of their dorm room, the soft hum of the world outside muted by the silence between them. Changkyun had already left for his mission, offering a brief but affectionate kiss to both of them before walking out the door.

It had been a strange moment, their usual teasing energy replaced by a rare quiet intensity, but now, the silence was stretching out once more, and Kihyun couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different.

He turned to Hyungwon, his eyes narrowing in thought, as if some unspoken tension hung in the air between them. The symbols on their bodies had been pulsating since the night before, a constant, unsettling reminder that whatever was coming next wasn’t just about them anymore.

It was something far bigger. Kihyun could feel it, like a shiver running down his spine, a whisper from somewhere deep within the foundations of the realms.

"Let's try it," Kihyun murmured, almost to himself. His voice broke the silence, but there was something heavier in it, something deeper. He didn’t need to elaborate; Hyungwon understood immediately. They’d discussed it before—what would happen if they tried focusing their powers together. If, perhaps, it would bring them closer to understanding the symbols on their skin.

Hyungwon glanced at him, his usual calmness settling over his features, but there was something else there too—something unreadable, a sense of wariness that had come to rest in the depths of his eyes. He knew the stakes as well as Kihyun did. This wasn’t just a power play. It was a key.

They stood facing each other in the center of the room, each of them still, almost painfully so. Hyungwon’s wings shifted slightly behind him, a soft rustle of feathers like the wind brushing through a field. Kihyun’s eyes locked on the glowing marks on Hyungwon’s chest, and he could feel the heat from the flame beneath his own skin rising. It was time.

Hyungwon exhaled, slow and steady, as his hand rose, fingers glowing faintly with the warm, ethereal light of his powers. Kihyun didn’t wait for him to speak; he knew the drill. He let the shadows swirl around him, dark tendrils creeping from the corners of the room, shifting and stretching.

At first, nothing happened. The air felt thick, like a fog clinging to the edges of their senses. Kihyun clenched his fists, the shadows pulsing erratically, and that was when it happened.

The symbols on Hyungwon’s chest flared. Light erupted from his body, weaving in with the shadows Kihyun had summoned. The symbols on Kihyun’s back reacted at the same time, glowing with a sinister pulse, and for a split second, the entire room seemed to vibrate with the force of their combined energy. A crackling hum filled the air as the two powers melded together.

The symbols twisted, pulling apart from their usual form, shifting, rearranging, and suddenly—before them—an ethereal map projected into the air. It shimmered in the air between them like a faint mist, glowing with soft, golden and crimson hues.

The map was ancient, fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle they had yet to understand. Locations appeared and faded in rapid succession, ancient sites tied to the prophecy. Ruins, temples, and caves—places lost to time.

Kihyun’s eyes widened slightly, the shadows around him faltering in response to the overwhelming sensation of the map’s power. It was more than just a guide. It was alive, breathing, thrumming with energy as if it had a mind of its own.

“This is…” Kihyun whispered, reaching out instinctively as the map swirled before his eyes. “It’s trying to show us something.”

The map was incomplete. Fragments flickered on the surface like glowing dots, each one holding a piece of something much bigger. They were everywhere—scattered across Heaven and Hell, tucked away in places neither of them had ever heard of, and the map pulsed in time with their combined energy.

Hyungwon took a step forward, his fingers trembling as the light from his chest swirled more intensely. “It’s showing us places... places we need to go.”

Kihyun didn’t respond immediately. He felt the energy vibrating through him, the shadows pulling at his soul as the symbols on his back began to grow hot, like they were marking him with every pulse of power. He gritted his teeth, struggling to maintain control.

“You’re using too much light,” Kihyun muttered, his voice rough. The shadows at his feet darkened further as if reacting to his words.

Hyungwon’s eyes flickered to Kihyun, sensing his discomfort. “And you’re drawing too much from the shadows,” he countered, the light around him dimming as he tried to calm himself. “We need to balance this—together.”

Kihyun’s gaze shifted back to the map, feeling the symbols shift under his skin as they pulsed in tandem with Hyungwon’s. The two powers were so connected now that they practically thrummed in the same wavelength. When Kihyun let the shadows grow too wild, Hyungwon’s light would weaken, and when Hyungwon’s light grew too intense, Kihyun’s shadows would collapse.

They couldn’t let it get out of hand.

Hyungwon took a deep breath, his voice calm despite the situation. “Try to control it. Let’s focus on the map.”

Kihyun nodded and forced himself to still, closing his eyes for a moment. He focused on the map, trying to absorb its meaning, trying to let the heat of the shadows calm. As he did, he felt Hyungwon’s light begin to stabilize beside him.

The symbols began to shift, their pulse slowing as they balanced out. Each pulse became a beat that synced with the other, each mark on their skin aligning like two halves of a whole.

Kihyun opened his eyes. The map had expanded, showing more than they’d ever seen before. More locations, more fragments. The path was clear now. They had to follow it, piece by piece. It was both a blessing and a curse—the map was a guide, but it was also pulling them toward something unknown. Something that would change everything.

“The map’s not the only thing that’s changing,” Hyungwon murmured, and Kihyun knew exactly what he meant.

His powers had been evolving. Not just the symbols, but the way their energies connected. The bond between them wasn’t just showing them the path—it was unlocking new abilities. They were more powerful together, but also more vulnerable. They had to be careful.

“Let’s move quickly,” Kihyun said, his voice sharp as he turned away from the map. “The more we delay, the more dangerous it gets.”

Hyungwon nodded, his wings folding neatly at his back. He looked at Kihyun, a flicker of something in his eyes. “Agreed. We have no time to waste.”

And with that, the ethereal map faded, leaving behind a trail of soft light that only they could see. As they left the dorm room together, the air seemed to crackle with the promise of what was to come. The balance between their powers was delicate, and as they set out on their mission, they knew that every step would be a test. A test of their strength, their trust, and their very bond.

The symbols on their skin weren’t just marks. They were a map. A guide to something far greater than either of them could have imagined. And it was leading them into the heart of an ancient prophecy that threatened everything they knew.

The journey to their first destination was quiet, save for the rhythmic crunch of gravel under their boots. The path stretched ahead, bordered by the dense, twisted foliage of a forest that seemed to grow darker the further they went. Hyungwon walked a step ahead, his spear resting against his shoulder, the golden light emanating from him casting a faint glow over their surroundings.

Kihyun followed closely, his obsidian blade strapped securely to his back, his steps deliberate and unhurried. The silence between them wasn’t tense—it was comfortable, though tinged with a gravity neither wanted to disturb.

“I wonder how Changkyun’s mission is going,” Hyungwon said softly, glancing back over his shoulder.

Kihyun huffed out a short breath. “Probably smoother than ours. Jooheon’s grandma seems like the type to coddle him, and Minhyuk… well, he’ll make sure they stay fed.”

Hyungwon’s lips curved slightly, his eyes softening. “You miss him already.”

“Don’t you?” Kihyun shot back, his voice sharper than intended. He caught himself and added, quieter, “I just... worry. He’s brilliant, but he’s still human.”

Hyungwon slowed his pace until they were side by side, his free hand brushing against Kihyun’s. It was a small gesture, but it steadied the storm brewing behind Kihyun’s calm exterior. “He’ll be fine. He’s got them, and we’ll see him soon.”

Kihyun didn’t respond, but his hand lingered near Hyungwon’s, the weight of their bond palpable even in the simplest moments.

They continued in silence until the trees gave way to an open expanse, and there it stood—the Celestial Garden. Or what remained of it.

Once, it must have been magnificent. Stone archways twisted with celestial script rose high above, framing a courtyard of shattered fountains and toppled statues. Thick vines, dotted with pale luminescent flowers, wound through the ruins, their glow casting an eerie light over the overgrown paths.

In the center, a massive, cracked sundial jutted out of the earth, its surface etched with more celestial markings. The air buzzed faintly, the remnants of ancient wards still thrumming with power.

Kihyun slowed, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. “This place feels... wrong. Like it’s watching us.”

Hyungwon stepped forward cautiously, his spear held at the ready. “It’s not just a feeling. Look at the wards.”

The light weaving through the garden wasn’t natural. It shimmered in deliberate patterns, forming faint constructs—winged shapes made of pure energy, poised as if ready to strike. Their forms were faint but menacing, their outlines sparking like static.

“Light-forged constructs,” Hyungwon said grimly, his voice low. “They were designed to keep anything demonic out.”

Kihyun gave a humorless laugh, his hand brushing the hilt of his sword. “Fantastic. Guess I’ll be their main target.”

As if in response to his words, one of the constructs surged forward, its form solidifying into a blindingly bright, angelic figure. It moved with alarming speed, a sword of pure light materializing in its hand as it lunged at Kihyun.

Kihyun dodged just in time, shadows surging around him as he drew his blade. The obsidian edge clashed against the construct’s sword, but it was like striking the sun itself—his blade held, but the sheer force sent him stumbling back. Another construct began to form, its wings unfurling with a pulse of light that scorched the ground where it stood.

“They’re attuned to you,” Hyungwon called, his spear glowing as he stepped in front of Kihyun. “Let me handle this—”

“No,” Kihyun interrupted, gritting his teeth as he steadied himself. “I can handle it. Just keep the second one off me.”

Hyungwon hesitated, his gaze flicking to the construct advancing toward Kihyun. The hesitation cost him—another construct materialized, its form flaring to life behind them. Hyungwon spun, deflecting a strike with his spear, but the effort drew a wince from him. The light was too pure, too unyielding, even for him.

Kihyun’s shadows surged again, but every tendril that met the constructs’ light dissipated, as though swallowed by the brilliance. Frustration clawed at him. His powers were useless here—he was useless here. The thought made his chest tighten, the heat of the failure burning in his veins.

“Kihyun, stop,” Hyungwon said sharply, his voice cutting through the chaos. He sidestepped another strike, sending a blast of light toward the nearest construct. “You’re overloading the balance.”

“I’m trying to stop us from getting skewered!” Kihyun snapped back, but he paused, his breath heaving. He felt it too—the drain. Every time his shadows collided with the constructs, the symbols on his back burned hotter, as if protesting the misuse of his power.

Hyungwon was beside him in an instant, his hand gripping Kihyun’s shoulder tightly. “Focus on me. Balance it. Use both.”

Kihyun’s eyes met his, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just them. Hyungwon’s light flared, steady and sure, and Kihyun felt the pull of it, like a thread weaving through his shadows. He closed his eyes, letting the connection deepen, letting their powers align.

When he opened them again, his shadows moved differently, curling with threads of light that weren’t his own. He raised his hand, and a flicker of flame sparked to life—no longer entirely shadow, nor entirely light. It burned fiercely, a molten balance of both energies.

The next construct lunged, but Kihyun didn’t hesitate. He hurled the flame forward, and it struck the construct’s core with a searing hiss. The light fractured, the construct dissolving into harmless sparks.

Hyungwon grinned faintly, his spear lowering as the remaining constructs faded back into the garden’s wards. “Not bad, demon.”

Kihyun rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched in a reluctant smirk. “Shut up, angel.”

They turned toward the sundial, which now glowed faintly, as if reacting to their combined energy. Kihyun approached cautiously, his hand brushing against the fractured surface. The moment he touched it, the symbols on his back and Hyungwon’s chest flared to life, casting a radiant light across the garden.

A voice echoed, not aloud but in their minds, soft and ancient: “Only in unity can the eternal be rewritten.”

The sundial shifted, revealing a hidden compartment within. Inside was a piece of a relic—golden and jagged, resonating with the same energy as their symbols. It was another fragment of the puzzle, another step closer to unraveling the prophecy.

Hyungwon’s hand brushed Kihyun’s as they both reached for it, their fingers meeting briefly before Kihyun pulled the piece free. They stood there for a moment, the weight of what they’d uncovered settling over them.

“This is only the beginning,” Hyungwon said quietly.

Kihyun nodded, his grip tightening on the relic. “Then let’s make it count.”

They turned away from the garden, leaving behind its lingering light as they began their journey toward the next trial.

The second point on the map drew them deep into an uncharted region of the forest, far from any trace of civilization. The air grew colder as they descended, the trees thinning until only jagged rock formations surrounded them. The map’s light flickered faintly, its projection rippling like disturbed water between Hyungwon and Kihyun. Each step brought them closer to the abyss marked on the map, and with it, an oppressive energy that pressed against their senses.

Kihyun tightened his grip on his sword, the obsidian edge humming faintly in response to the tension coursing through him. “I don’t like this,” he muttered, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the silence.

“Because the last trial was such a pleasant walk in the park?” Hyungwon replied, though his usual calm was laced with unease. His spear glowed faintly, a golden contrast to the growing darkness ahead.

The entrance to the Abyssal Caverns loomed before them—a yawning maw in the earth, its edges jagged and uninviting. From within, an unnatural chill seeped outward, carrying the faint echo of whispers that weren’t entirely human.

Kihyun stopped at the threshold, glancing sideways at Hyungwon. “You ready for this, angel?”

Hyungwon gave him a wry smile. “Are you?”

The tension broke just slightly, enough for Kihyun to smirk before they stepped inside.

The descent was immediate and merciless. The faint light from the cavern’s entrance vanished within moments, swallowed by an all-encompassing darkness that even Hyungwon’s spear struggled to penetrate. The air grew thick and heavy, pressing down on them like an invisible weight. Kihyun’s shadows stirred around him, restless and alive in a way they hadn’t been before.

“Something’s wrong,” he said through gritted teeth, his steps faltering. His shadows lashed out uncontrollably, writhing like living tendrils across the cavern walls. They grew darker, thicker, until they began to obscure his vision entirely. “I can’t—Hyungwon, I can’t control it.”

Hyungwon turned, his own glow flickering dangerously. The symbols on his chest pulsed faintly, the only consistent source of light in the oppressive blackness. “Focus on me,” he said, his voice steady despite the strain in his features. “Don’t fight it—just keep moving forward.”

Kihyun clenched his jaw, his breath ragged as he forced himself to follow Hyungwon’s voice. But each step felt like wading through quicksand, the shadows clawing at him, pulling him deeper into their grasp. The symbols on his back burned, flaring with an intensity that threatened to consume him.

The first attack came without warning. From the depths of the cavern, a shadow-creature lunged, its form shifting and amorphous, its eyes gleaming with malevolent hunger. Kihyun reacted instinctively, his sword slicing through the air. The blade connected, but instead of dissipating, the creature split into two, each fragment surging toward him with increased ferocity.

“Kihyun, behind you!” Hyungwon’s voice cut through the chaos, and Kihyun spun just in time to see another shadow-creature barreling toward him. He raised his sword, but before he could strike, a radiant shield of golden light materialized between him and the creature. It collided with the barrier, shrieking as it dissolved into nothingness.

Hyungwon’s spear trembled in his grip, the shield emanating from its tip. “Keep moving!” he shouted, his usually calm demeanor cracking under the strain. “We can’t stop here!”

Kihyun nodded, his breath hitching as he forced his shadows to bend to his will. They resisted, surging chaotically, but he drew on the connection he felt with Hyungwon—the steady rhythm of their bond. Slowly, painfully, the shadows began to coalesce, forming a protective barrier around them as they pressed deeper into the cavern.

The creatures didn’t relent. They swarmed from every direction, their shrieks echoing off the walls in a cacophony of chaos. Kihyun fought with everything he had, his shadows lashing out with deadly precision, but the effort drained him with each strike. He stumbled, his vision blurring as the cavern seemed to close in around him.

“Stay with me,” Hyungwon said, his voice a lifeline in the dark. He reached out, his hand brushing against Kihyun’s arm. The touch sent a surge of energy through Kihyun, a spark of light that steadied him.

They moved as one, Hyungwon’s light and Kihyun’s shadows intertwining in a delicate balance. For every strike Kihyun delivered, Hyungwon’s shields absorbed the retaliatory blows. Their powers blended seamlessly, creating bursts of flame and light that tore through the creatures with devastating precision.

At the cavern’s heart, they found the tablet. It stood on a pedestal of black stone, its surface carved with intricate symbols that pulsed faintly in the dark. The angelic script flowed seamlessly into demonic runes, the two languages merging in a way that defied logic.

Hyungwon approached it cautiously, his spear still at the ready. “This is it,” he said, his voice soft with awe. “It’s connected to us.”

Kihyun joined him, his shadows curling protectively around them. The moment they both touched the tablet, the symbols on their bodies flared to life, casting the cavern in a brilliant, otherworldly light. The tablet’s surface shifted, revealing a hidden message etched deep within: “Only in perfect union can the eternal cycle be broken. To rewrite the laws of Heaven and Hell is to risk the destruction of both.”

The words hung heavy in the air, their weight settling over them like a physical force. Kihyun’s gaze met Hyungwon’s, and for a moment, neither spoke.

“What does it mean?” Kihyun finally asked, his voice low.

Hyungwon’s expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something—hope, fear, determination—in his eyes. “It means we’re tied to something bigger than ourselves. But it also means we might have the power to change it.”

Kihyun’s hand brushed against Hyungwon’s, his fingers curling around his wrist. “Then we’ll figure it out. Together.”

They turned back the way they came, the tablet’s energy now a guiding force that led them through the darkness. The creatures didn’t attack again, as though recognizing the strength of their unity. When they finally emerged into the light, the weight of the cavern lifted, leaving them both exhausted but resolute.

As they caught their breath, Kihyun pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to the group chat: “Second trial complete. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Hyungwon glanced at the screen and smiled faintly. “They’re going to want every detail.”

“And they’ll get it,” Kihyun said, his tone softening as he looked at Hyungwon. “But for now, let’s just take a second.”

Hyungwon nodded, his hand finding Kihyun’s and squeezing it gently. They stood there in the fading light, the bond between them stronger than ever.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of amber and mauve as Kihyun and Hyungwon made their way back to the dorms. The cool evening air was a welcome change after the stifling heat of the Abyssal Caverns, brushing against their skin like a quiet reminder of the world still carrying on beyond their trials.

Hyungwon walked beside Kihyun, his spear strapped to his back, but there was a noticeable distance in his gaze. His usually composed features were drawn tight, his mind clearly lost in the tangled web of the prophecy and the impossible choices it presented. Kihyun, walking slightly ahead, stole a glance back at him, frowning at the way Hyungwon’s shoulders seemed weighed down by an invisible burden.

Without a word, Kihyun slowed his steps, letting their hands brush before slipping his fingers around Hyungwon’s. The touch was gentle but firm, grounding. Hyungwon looked at him, startled out of his thoughts, and Kihyun offered a small smile, his tone deliberately light.

“The weather’s nice,” Kihyun said, his grip tightening just slightly. “Why don’t we take a round of the campus before heading back? I don’t think I have the energy to deal with Minhyuk the second we walk through the door.”

Hyungwon blinked, his lips parting as though to protest, but Kihyun didn’t give him the chance.

“Come on,” Kihyun urged, tugging at his hand. “We’ve been through Hell—literally. One lap around campus won’t kill us.”

Hyungwon hesitated for a moment, then nodded, too distracted to argue. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice subdued.

They veered away from the dorm building and started down a winding path that cut through the heart of the campus. The fading sunlight cast long shadows across the cobblestone walkways, and the faint hum of distant conversations and laughter added an almost surreal normalcy to the scene.

Kihyun led them without hurry, his steps measured, keeping his pace in sync with Hyungwon’s.

“So,” Kihyun began, breaking the silence with an intentionally casual tone, “what’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen in Heaven? Like… angelic bureaucracy or whatever.”

Hyungwon turned to him, his brows raising slightly in bemusement. “You’re trying to distract me.”

“Guilty as charged,” Kihyun admitted with a shrug, though the corners of his lips twitched upward. “But I still want to know. Humor me.”

Hyungwon’s gaze softened slightly, and after a pause, a faint smile tugged at his lips. “Alright. There’s a council meeting every century to decide if the celestial gardens should include a new species of flower.”

Kihyun blinked, his expression blank with disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” Hyungwon replied, his voice carrying a rare note of amusement. “It takes fifty years of debate, and they always end up saying no.”

Kihyun snorted, unable to hold back a laugh. “That’s insane. Fifty years? For a flower?”

Hyungwon’s lips curved a little more as he nodded. “Thoroughness is a virtue.”

“That’s one word for it.” Kihyun shook his head, his laughter easing into a crooked grin. “And here I thought Hell was inefficient. At least we just burn things down when we don’t like them.”

Hyungwon chuckled softly, his shoulders relaxing for the first time that evening. “Different approaches, I suppose.”

Their conversation meandered after that, jumping from topic to topic as Kihyun steered them away from heavier thoughts. He teased Hyungwon about his meticulous nature, and Hyungwon retaliated with dry comments about Kihyun’s propensity for chaos. Slowly but surely, the tension began to bleed away, replaced by the comfortable rhythm of their banter.

As they approached the building, Kihyun stopped abruptly. “By the way,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye, “don’t tell Changkyun about how you almost passed out from overusing your light.”

Hyungwon raised an eyebrow, amused. “And don’t tell him how you almost got swallowed by your own shadows.”

Kihyun snorted, shaking his head. “Deal.’

By the time they made their way back toward the dorm building, the campus was bathed in twilight, and the stars were just beginning to peek through the darkening sky. They walked side by side down the long corridor leading to their dorm, their footsteps echoing faintly in the stillness.

Hyungwon slowed suddenly, glancing toward Kihyun with an almost shy expression. Before Kihyun could ask what was on his mind, Hyungwon leaned in, brushing a quick, barely-there kiss against Kihyun’s lips.

“You didn’t have to do all that for me,” Hyungwon murmured, his voice low and sincere.

And then, without waiting for a response, he turned and started walking briskly ahead, his long strides carrying him down the hall.

Kihyun stood frozen for half a second, blinking in disbelief, before his expression shifted into something sharper, smugger. A mischievous grin spread across his face, and he called after Hyungwon, “Oh, no, you don’t, angel. You can’t just give me that and run.”

In a few quick strides, Kihyun caught up, grabbing Hyungwon by the arm and spinning him around. Before Hyungwon could protest, Kihyun slipped his hand around the back of his neck and kissed him properly, deeply, with all the heat and stubborn determination that defined him.

Hyungwon’s initial surprise melted into something softer as he leaned into the kiss, his hands finding their way to Kihyun’s shoulders. When they finally broke apart, Hyungwon’s cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly parted as he stared at Kihyun in quiet astonishment.

“You’re impossible,” Hyungwon said, his voice caught somewhere between exasperation and fondness.

“And you love me for it,” Kihyun shot back, his grin widening.

Hyungwon sighed, shaking his head but not denying it. “Let’s get inside before the others start wondering what we’re doing.”

With one last lingering look, Kihyun nodded, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. They walked the remaining distance to their dorm, side by side, the weight of their trials momentarily forgotten in the warmth of their bond.