Archive of Our Own

The only thing that Bam had known about the 72nd Floor prior to his arrival was that it took the form of a maze.

That alone didn’t say much about it, but in his time climbing the Tower Bam had already encountered several maze-based floors and floor tests, and while each of them had their own little quirks and challenges that set them apart from the others, he had always been of the opinion that, at the end of the day, a maze was still a maze. There were techniques to getting through them, and while some trial and error might be necessary, there were a finite number of options to choose between.

If Bam had harboured any notions that any of his prior experiences would have prepared him for this floor, however, he was sorely mistaken.

The main issue was that the floor wasn’t built like a standard, man-made maze. It was natural, or at least made to look like it; a vast mountain range cut through with labyrinthine cave systems that twisted in on each other, often tunnelling down into the earth for miles or ending in steep drops into seemingly bottomless pits. If the floor’s reputation was to be believed, it was entirely possible to enter the caves and emerge months or even years later, only to find yourself less than a hundred metres from where you started—and those people were the lucky ones. Many teams who vanished into the dark were never seen again, their fate left a complete mystery.

Bam knew that they couldn’t afford to be one of those teams. Normally, he wouldn’t feel they had significant cause for worry, since Khun was an extremely competent Lightbearer and with some time and effort he would certainly be able to chart them a safe passage through the caves to the gate on the other side, but he also knew that time was a luxury they didn’t have. They’d been on the run for days, an army at their heels, and had barely had a chance to rest, let alone plot the course they’d be taking through the caves. As a result, their options on what to do next were somewhat limited.

Which had led them to where they were now, several miles underground, and—hopefully—on the trail of a solution to their current predicament.

“I don’t know, this all seems a little too sketchy for me. The way I hear it, no one deals with this guy unless they’re truly desperate.”

From his position, Bam wasn’t able to see Shibisu’s face, but the slight quaver in his voice echoed off the damp walls of the passage they were currently making their way through, bouncing mockingly around them before fading into silence. Based on that fact alone, he thought he could make a pretty decent guess at what the Scout’s expression probably looked like.

“I’d be interested in knowing what your definition of truly desperate is, Isu,” came a lighter voice from next to Bam—Khun, this time. “Because in my mind, being on the run with Adori Jahad’s own soldiers less than two days behind us while also attempting to navigate one of the most famously unnavigable floors in the Tower counts as pretty damn desperate.”

“...Touché, my love.”

Bam turned to look at his best friend, squinting slightly in the low light. Familiar though the sight was, Khun’s hair was in a slightly different style than his usual—two braided locks pulled back and fixed in place with a tiny clasp set with a smooth blue gem, while the rest fell loose around his shoulders. The team had been at a reception event following the completion of their last floor test when they’d been forced to flee, still wearing their formal attire. Many of their more cumbersome items such as coats, ties, and heels had already been shed along the way but the hairstyle stubbornly remained, although it seemed to be falling apart more and more as the chase continued.

It seemed a shame. Bam felt a subtle urge to fix it, to run his fingers through the fine strands and gently coax the tangles out before carefully replacing the hair clip in its position of honour. But even as the thought occurred to him, he was forced to admit that it wasn’t the time or place for it. Out of all the things they had to worry about, Khun’s ruined hairstyle was definitely not their highest priority.

But for some reason he still couldn’t stop thinking about it. His fingers twitched.

Possibly noticing his stare, Khun’s face turned toward Bam, pale in the soft blue glow of his Lighthouses. “Bam? Is everything okay?”

Shy at having been caught, Bam glanced away quickly. “Oh—me? I’m fine, Khun.”

Khun’s expression was sympathetic. “I’m sorry about this. I know you’re probably not the biggest fan of caves.”

It was an understatement, although Bam did appreciate Khun’s tact. Between his lonely childhood and his apprenticeship with FUG, Bam had already had enough experience with caves to last several lifetimes.

“Not like we have much choice,” Bam forced a note of brightness into his voice, not wanting to add to Khun’s already lengthy list of concerns. As he spoke, he noticed a thick arrow that had been carved on the wall of the cave, pointing onward in the direction they were going. It was the latest in a series of arrows they had been following to their destination, and he could only hope they would soon reach the end. “We have to get past this floor regardless, and if this will ultimately help us get through it faster, it can only be a good thing.”

“That’s true,” Khun agreed, although Bam could tell he still sounded a little bit worried. “But you’ll let me know if it gets to be too much, won’t you?”

Bam couldn’t help but smile. “I will. Honestly, it’s not too bad with the Lighthouses, though.” It’s not so bad with you here, he amended privately, ducking his head slightly in embarrassment. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s too much for me already, not that anyone cares about that,” Endorsi grumbled from his other side, and Bam jumped, having briefly forgotten she was there. “But no, just keep doing what you’re doing, don’t mind any of the rest of us.”

“I’m sorry, Endorsi,” Bam apologized, turning to her. “I didn’t know you also had a problem with caves?”

“... Black Turtle is stupid.”

“Gator!” Bam heard the sharp sound of a smack from somewhere behind him. “Don’t talk about Bam like that!”

“Why not? Blue Turtle is even more stupid—”

As Rak and Khun devolved further into petty argument, slapping at each other like children, Bam addressed Shibisu. “Do we know how much further it’ll be?”

“Hard to say,” Shibisu hummed. “We’re definitely going in the right direction—we wouldn’t be seeing the arrows still if we weren’t, but none of the information we were able to find gave any indication of how far in we’d have to go first. Seems like this guy is pretty reclusive, though. I heard he doesn’t like being around people, so maybe it makes sense that he lives as far away from the surface as he can get.”

“A recluse who scratches messages and arrows into his walls so people will always know how to find him?” Hatz said dubiously. He’d been stuck with the job of carrying a sleeping Laure on his back, and yet despite that, Bam noticed that he hadn’t taken his hand off the hilt of his sword once since they’d entered the cave. His eyes darted about warily, clearly not trusting their surroundings.

“Well,” Shibisu smiled uncomfortably. “He is still a businessman, I guess.”

While the 72nd floor was time-consuming and difficult for the average team to find their way through, there did exist ways to simplify the process if one were willing—or desperate enough—to wander off the beaten path.

There were rumours that in a well-marked cave near the entrance to the floor lived a hermit, a Regular who had ceased his climb and settled there to live out his life in solitude. He was supposedly a talented Lightbearer and had spent several hundred years mapping out the entirety of the 72nd Floor in great detail, becoming the uncontested expert on navigating the floor’s treacherous cave systems. Khun and Shibisu had also heard rumours that he was willing to share this information with teams who came through the floor, although those accounts were considerably more vague on what the going price of that information might be. Mostly, there were just a variety of references to the fact that the man was an avid collector, although what he collected was also something of a mystery.

At any rate, it was a mystery they would probably have answered soon enough, since the rest of their leads seemed to have panned out so far. Bam hoped they’d be able to make a deal with the man, since his expertise was something they sorely needed, and if this plan fell through it was unlikely they’d have time to consider a backup.

“I hate to agree with the baldy in the tracksuit, but I’m getting a weird feeling about this too,” Anaak spoke up. “If he was such a talented Regular, why do you think he went into hiding on this floor in the first place?”

“Could be any reason, really,” Shibisu shrugged, tactfully deciding to ignore Anaak’s casual insult. “Maybe he made a few too many enemies, or got tired of climbing and decided this place was as good as any. Or who knows, maybe he actually liked it here.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I mean… there are some… vistas, I guess. The scenery isn’t bad, if you like rocks. And pits. I’m just saying, there’s a place for everyone. Remember that floor that was covered in active volcanos? Some interesting people there, let me tell you—”

Bam never learned what Shibisu thought about the floor with the volcanoes, because as they turned the next corner, they were confronted with a sight that made them all halt dead in their tracks, words dying on their lips.

Up ahead, the corridor widened into something that could be described as an actual room, and unlike the rest of the cave, this area was more-or-less lit, electricity buzzing through a mess of power cords that trailed across the floor and eventually hooked up to a single massive generator in the back.

But Bam was only dimly aware of these things, as the feature that caught his attention first and held it was that the walls of this room were stacked from floor to ceiling with rows upon rows of small, jar-shaped devices that pulsed with green light while emitting a soft humming noise. The compact shape, combined with the glowing fluid they were filled with made Bam think of some kind of stasis pod, and inside was.…

He recoiled.

Eyes.

Every single container of the hundreds, perhaps thousands he could see lining the cave walls, lit with that eerie green light… was full of eyes, suspended in the liquid and staring glassily ahead. Eyes in a myriad of sizes and colours, and yet still all looking worryingly alike in a way that made Bam think that maybe—

“... Or maybe, you know, his collection is actually really weird and that’s why he doesn’t want to be around people,” Shibisu said, a forced smile on his face as they all stared at the display, which stared right back at them. “Maybe the fact that he collects human eyes and puts them in jars is a bit of a sticking point for most teams. What do you guys think?”

“I think…” Khun said slowly. “That we should be getting out of here. Now.”

“Couldn’t agree more. Let’s—”

“Are you really leaving so soon?” A voice not belonging to anyone in the group spoke up, and a spindly figure emerged from around one of the towers of stasis pods.

Bam jumped in surprise, and around him, his friends reacted to the newcomer’s arrival in a similar fashion. It seemed to be a man, tall but extremely thin, with a face wrinkled like old leather and a pair of watery blue eyes that stared out from behind large, dirty spectacles. His hair was white and fell past his shoulders in a frizzy mess, and his nails were long and sharp. The smile on his face was unsettlingly serene as he took in their team’s wary and bedraggled appearances, like their uninvited entrance into his home was not only expected, but welcomed.

“Argus Sias, Lightbearer and former Regular, current resident of the 72nd Floor,” the man introduced himself with a flourishing bow that sent clouds of dust from his tweed coat. “And, as I’m sure you can see, one who finds his joy and life’s purpose in his collections. How might I be of service to you fine people today?”

Bam glanced in Khun’s direction, meeting his eyes briefly before turning back to the man, taking a single step toward him. “Greetings, Argus Sias. My name is Jue Viole Grace,” he said politely. “My friends and I are here following a lead. We heard that you might have information about the most efficient route through this floor, and we would like to buy this information from you, if possible.”

Bam paused to allow him to answer, but the man—Argus Sias—acted almost like he hadn’t heard him. He was openly staring, eyes fixed on Bam’s face like a man enraptured. Eventually, though, he seemed to shake off whatever thrall had taken over him, his gentle smile widening to show yellowing teeth as he spoke. “So this is Arlene Grace’s son. Magnificent.”

From the corner of his eye, Bam could see Khun stiffening in alarm, his hand reflexively going for his knife. Acting quickly, Bam dropped his own hand to his side, finding Khun’s and surreptitiously squeezing it, warning him not to get involved.

“How do you know about that?” Bam asked, taking care to keep his voice calm even as his heart thudded painfully in his chest. “That name, and my connection to it are not supposed to be common knowledge.”

“I would not have been a Lightbearer capable of mapping the entirety of this floor if such information was inaccessible to me,” Sias cackled, and the sound was unpleasantly wet, like an aquatic creature clearing water from its lungs. “I reckon I know more about your past than even you do, Jue Viole Grace. Of course I also know about Arlene Grace, the family head who was never a family head, and her only child. I knew, and I’d been hoping that your path would find its way here eventually.”

“The rumours were true, then?” Bam asked. “You really mapped out this whole floor?”

“That I did.”

“And you’d be willing to sell this information to us?”

Bam had been… surprised to see the eyes, but if this was really the man they’d heard about, then there was no reason they couldn’t at least try to do what they came here to. Bam had dealt with countless unpleasant people before in the name of practicality, and he could do it again this time if it became necessary.

The crooked yellow smile widened. “That… that, I suppose, depends on you,” Sias said. “On whether you’re willing to pay the price or not.”

“And what price would that be?”

Sias was silent for a second, tapping his chin like he was thinking something over. “How to put it… I wonder, have you ever thought about the fact that, if things had been different, Arlene Grace might have had many descendants?” he asked. “Can you imagine it? You might have had siblings, and then nieces and nephews like any other member of one of the Great Families. Unfortunately, due to many things, that future never came to pass. Arlene Grace was chased out of the Tower for good, and she left behind only one single child—you. And you’re in such a perilous position, Jue Viole Grace, that the chances you’ll live to have children of your own are slim to none.”

Bam frowned, feeling distinctly uncomfortable with these speculations, as well as the direction of the conversation in general. “Why are you saying this?”

“Because I want you to understand from my point of view why having you here like this is so special. You’re truly one of a kind. A miracle.” Sias stepped up to him, eyes once again fixed on Bam’s with an expression of wonder and greed, and Bam forced himself not to back away as the smell of his stale breath washed over him. “A Great Family member who isn’t a Great Family member, who is also an Irregular, and a future Slayer. There are probably no end of people in this Tower aiming for a piece of you and yet out of all of them, I’m the one you’re standing before now.”

Bam was vaguely aware that it wasn’t just Khun now who was tensing at the man’s words, but Sias didn’t seem to be making any overt moves to attack, and he held up a hand, signaling for his friends to hold back for just a bit longer. “What do you want from me, then?” he asked Sias, his voice steady.

The man looked pleased, like this had been the correct answer.

“I trade in eyes, nothing else,” Sias said, his heavy gaze never leaving Bam’s. “I’ll accept no other payment. And while it’s a tall order for me to willingly aid a Slayer Candidate, I’ll do it in exchange for one of your eyes, Jue Viole Grace. That’s how precious they are to me.”

There was a moment of stunned silence as his words sunk in, and then everything descended into chaos all at once, the narrow space quickly becoming filled by the sound of outraged protests.

“Absolutely not. Why would he agree to a trade like that?” Khun demanded over the din, the lines of his face drawn in anger. “Why would anyone?”

Sias sighed. “You’re as arrogant as the rest of your family. See here?” he grabbed a jar from the counter beside him seemingly at random, thrusting it into Khun’s face, causing him to blanch as he saw what was inside. “These once belonged to cousins of yours—twins, I believe—and there’s more where that came from. They all said the same thing, and in the end, they agreed to my terms.”

Sure enough, floating in the pod were two eyes, both a familiar deep blue. The sight of it made Bam feel ill.

“Someone else then,” Khun said, coming to a decision. “Mine. I’m a member of the Great Families. You can have one of my eyes instead of his.”

“Khun, no—”

“Were you not listening?” Sias asked, cocking his head to the side as he carefully set the container of Khun eyes back into place. “I said I’d do it for one of Jue Viole Grace’s eyes. I have no need for more Khun eyes. And beyond that, I know what your goals are, and I know what’s at stake for all of you. In these circumstances, the price is higher. I won’t help you for anything less than one of the eyes of Arlene Grace’s only descendant.”

“But that’s still just one member of our group,” Endorsi spoke up. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not volunteering myself, but there are much more interesting people here than just a Khun and a Slayer Candidate. Don’t you even know who I am?”

Bam was honestly surprised that Endorsi had put the spotlight on herself in a situation like this. He would never have dreamed she’d be willing to take the chance that she might be asked to do something that could either damage her appearance or weaken her, but despite the way she phrased it,it seemed like that was exactly what she was doing.

Sias, however, was unimpressed. “I wouldn’t take them even if you offered. Princess though you might be, your bloodline is common. I can tell it’s the same for the rest of you,” he said, his own gaze roving over Anaak, Rak, Hatz, Shibisu and Laure. “Inhuman, common, or diluted enough for it not to matter. I can tell that there is not a single one of interest among you.”

“What do you mean we’re not interesting?” Rak looked genuinely offended. “You’re not interesting! Boring many-eyed turtle! We didn’t need your maps anyways!”

Bam wished it was that simple, but he knew that they really did need that information. He could tell by the stiffness in Khun’s shoulders, by the way he bit his lower lip in frustration that his brilliant mind was undoubtedly turning over every possibility, trying to find one where they could achieve what they needed without Bam having to give up one of his eyes. Khun would never willingly accept an offer like that, and while it warmed Bam’s heart to know that Khun cared that much for him, he couldn’t let them lose this chance because of it. He would have to be the one to make the call this time.

Slowly, Bam raised a hand and rested it on Khun’s shoulder. “It is just one eye,” he said gently. “I can live without one eye, Khun.”

But Khun drew back from his touch, an almost betrayed look on his face. “Don’t be ridiculous, it’s far too dangerous. We’ll have to find another way.”

“There is no other way.”

Khun shook his head, whipping around to address Sias. “You’re sure there isn’t anything you’d accept instead?” he pressed, stepping forward. “Money, favours… I imagine sourcing all of those pods and generating the power needed to run them in the middle of nowhere doesn’t come cheap. ”

“I’m sorry, but I promise you I do only trade in eyes.”

“So you've said,” Khun said, unamused. “Unfortunately, Bam’s eyes are non-negotiable. As it stands now, we are going to walk away from this deal, and you will get nothing unless there’s anything else you’d be willing to accept from us instead. This is the last chance you’ll have, so you’d better be sure.”

Bam knew Khun was probably bluffing, he knew that it wouldn’t be so simple for them to just walk away. But the man was frowning thoughtfully now, and when he spoke up, Bam almost thought he sounded a little less certain than he had before, glancing speculatively between Bam and Khun in a way that he didn’t like.

“I know I already said I have enough Khun eyes. But… hmm… for the sake of argument, maybe I will take a closer look at what you’re offering.”

Suddenly, Sias reached out, grabbing Khun’s chin and bringing his face in close. Bam barely held himself back from lunging at the man until he registered how still Khun was, how careful he was being with those sharp nails so close to his throat, and realized that attacking Sias while he essentially had his best friend at his mercy was quite possibly the worst thing he could do.

So he waited, tense and alert for the slightest sign that Khun needed help, but other than that, there was little he could do but watch. Watch, and trust that Khun knew what he was doing.

“You’ve been touched by Yeon shinsu,” Sias said, staring deep into wide blue as he traced the orbit almost reverently. “You’re younger than most other Khuns I’ve dealt with in the past, too. Clarity is good, colour well within the expected range for your family but pleasing enough regardless, I suppose. In general, a good standard with just a trace of uniqueness. Not to mention, Jue Viole Grace’s own Lightbearer—his ‘eyes’ as it were. I’ll admit that there is a certain poetry to that.”

The man didn’t speak for some time. Eventually, he let go of Khun’s face, allowing him to step away. If Bam hadn’t been watching the exchange very closely, he might have missed the slight tremble in Khun’s hands as he smoothed back his hair.

The man was smiling at Khun now, and far from being reassured, the expression made Bam’s stomach turn unpleasantly.

“Yes, yes I think so. On second thought, I think I would be willing to deal with the son of Khun too, if you’re adamant that Arlene Grace’s son isn’t an option,” he said. “So that’s what I’ll offer instead. The information you’re looking for in exchange for two Khun eyes, payment up front.”

Khun, looking stunned, opened his mouth to speak, but Bam beat him to it.

“We can’t accept that offer,” he said firmly, hoping that his panic wasn’t showing on his face.

“This again?” Sias chuckled, now openly amused. “You’re beginning to make me doubt that there’s any offer I could make that you or your companions would be willing to accept, Jue Viole Grace.”

“But why one eye from Viole but two from Khun?” Shibisu demanded. “That would be—”

Debilitating. Would Khun even be able to continue to climb with them if he suddenly lost both eyes? Would he ever work as a Lightbearer again? The full implications were only just beginning to sink in, but the more Bam thought about it, the more horrifying it was.

“As I already explained quite clearly, I have a fairly sizable collection of Khun eyes,” he said, sounding a little annoyed at having to repeat himself. “I believe I’m being rather generous in accepting them as an alternative to Arlene Grace’s son’s in the first place. As much as I relish the chance of owning a piece of him for myself, only a fool messes with destiny. I’ll settle for one eye in that case, so that the Slayer Candidate can continue his climb relatively unhindered. But if I’m forced to accept a lesser deal than the one I truly want, I believe I’m entitled to some compensation in exchange. One eye from Arlene Grace’s son, or both from the Khun boy. That is my final offer.”

Khun had been quiet throughout their exchange, although Bam had kept an eye on him just in case, and it turned out that his suspicions weren’t misplaced. Gradually, the thoughtful look on Khun’s face shifted, and not in a direction that Bam liked until finally, his jaw set, he turned to the information dealer, opening his mouth to speak. “I’ll—”

“No,” Bam shut him down before he could even get the words out. “You won’t. I won’t let you.”

“... Bam,” Khun’s expression when he looked at him was torn, but his voice was firm. “It’s the better option. You have to think about what it will mean for you if you go through with this.”

“Hwaryun only has one eye, because of me,” Bam insisted stubbornly. “She can still see and still fight. If she can do it, so can I.”

“Hwaryun isn’t regularly fighting High Rankers as she climbs, and isn’t expected to fight family heads and Jahad himself when the time comes! Bam, losing an eye will have a huge impact on your vision and everything you do that uses it. Even a second of indecision might be the difference between victory and you dying in battle. I can’t let you take that risk, as your Lightbearer or as your friend. I have to—”

“And you don’t think that having our team’s only Lightbearer out of commission will have any impact on our ability to climb? Khun, if I lose one eye I’ll be inconvenienced for a while, maybe, but for you to lose both—”

“It’s not like there haven’t been blind Lightbearers before. I can adapt, alter my Lighthouses… develop workarounds. I can make it work, Bam. Why won’t you believe me?”

“It’s not about whether I believe you or not, Khun! Even if you can do all those things, they’ll take time, and that’s time that we don’t have to spare right now. You’re supposed to be clever, I don’t get why you don’t understand this!”

”Bam!”

”Khun!”

“Uh…” Shibisu said, looking uncertain as to how to approach the unforeseen problem of the party’s main Wave Controller and Lightbearer devolving into verbal warfare. “It seems like we might need to talk this over in a bit more detail. Would it be okay if we come back with our answer tomorrow?” he asked Sias.

“Of course, take your time coming to a decision, I’m in no hurry.” Sias smirked, and Bam was convinced that this man already knew exactly what their situation was, as well as the fact that they didn’t have any time to waste, and was enjoying it. “I’ll still be here when you finally make up your minds.”

*

“So… that didn’t go as well as we’d hoped,” Shibisu said.

The group had been quiet as they made their way down the mountain, back to the relatively flat area at the bottom that they had tentatively dubbed their base camp. Once they had begun to immerse themselves in the familiar task of setting up camp, however, with the mountain cave and its strange inhabitant comfortingly far behind them, the conversation naturally began to pick up once again.

“Whatever, who cares if this freak is a dead end?” Endorsi muttered, sitting down on a rock while she massaged her ankles. She’d found time to switch out her strappy green party shoes for a pair of sneakers at some point, but Bam was pretty sure he’d seen blisters before that. “We have other options. A Guide would be able to—”

“Hwaryun is still three floors down from us, there’s no way she can get here in time,” Khun said shortly, emerging from his Lighthouse with several rolled-up tents in his arms, which he tossed on the ground in front of them. “Adori Jahad’s forces, on the other hand, will be here within days at most. So if any of you want to get any sleep at all, hurry up and get these tents set up.”

Grumbling, the team moved to comply.

“Then what if we try to figure out the route ourselves?” Anaak spoke up a few minutes later, picking listlessly through the contents of her bag. “We have two Scouts and a Lightbearer, you’d think that between all of us—”

Khun shook his head. “It would still take more time than we have,” he said. “The average completion period for survivors of this floor is six months. We don’t have time for trial and error, we need a map we can follow now.”

“So that’s it then?” Hatz asked in disbelief. “You’re really going to give up your eyes to that guy?”

“Of course he’s not,” Bam said grimly, unfurling his own tent with a snap. “I’m going to trade one of mine, like the deal was for in the first place.”

“Bam!”

“I’m done arguing, Khun. Between one eye and two, it’s clear what the answer has to be.”

“Only to you! Bam, if you’d just listen—”

“Okay, that’s enough, you two,” Shibisu said firmly, placing himself in between them and forcibly putting a stop to their bickering. “This has gone on for too long. We’re all going to take a moment to calm down and figure out what we’re doing as a team, and until then you really need to stop going after each other. I know you both feel… strongly about your positions, but carrying on like this really isn’t helping anyone.”

Khun glared at Shibisu, causing him to momentarily quail in the face of his anger, but eventually he looked away with a huff. “Fine,” he said simply, shaking off Shibisu’s restraining hand and leaving without a single look back, stalking over to where Rak was in the process of attempting to wrestle a stack of puffy bedrolls out of another lighthouse.

Shibisu sighed, running a hand through his shorn hair with a strained look on his face. Bam hated to add to his worries, but he felt like he needed to voice his concern anyways. “Are you sure we can afford to delay like this, Isu?” he asked, watching as a pillow Rak had gotten his claws caught in bled feathers, only to be met with a round of angry exclamations from Khun.

“At this point, it’s not even a matter of what we can afford or not,” Shibisu replied. “We still have to decide what we’re doing, and beyond that we need a chance to eat and sleep, because I guarantee we won’t be able to solve anything in this condition. We should have enough of a lead that we can spare a few hours.”

Bam could only hope he was right. It was obvious that everyone was exhausted, although he privately suspected it would take a lot more than a few hours’ sleep and some of their meagre rations to make this particular problem resolve itself.

If only Khun wasn’t so stubborn… but no, in different circumstances, that stubbornness was something that Bam greatly valued, depended on even. He didn’t want to change the person that Khun was—that was the absolute last thing that Bam would ever want.

… But he didn’t want him to lose his eyes, either.

After they’d finished setting up the camp, the team sat down to a simple dinner, which was a tense affair. While their anger and frustration seemed to have cooled down somewhat from earlier, it was obvious to everyone present that Bam and Khun were still not speaking to each other. They remained far apart, with Khun seated on one side of the fire with Shibisu and Bam sitting with Rak on the other.

It turned out to not be the best arrangement for two people who were arguing, however, since it placed them right in each other’s line of sight for the duration of the evening. Despite this, Khun didn’t seem to notice Bam, too immersed in attempting to salvage what he could of his hair as he waited for his cup noodles to soften.

Now that his head had been given a chance to cool a bit, Bam watched Khun work with a sad sort of longing, wishing he was the one sitting beside him instead of Shibisu. He didn’t have disagreements with Khun often, but he hated when they happened. No matter how frustrated he was with his friend in the moment, he was never able to hold onto his anger for very long before he just wanted to let things go back to normal, for Khun to look at him with warm eyes and confirm that everything was okay. That they were okay.

… Although if Khun traded away his eyes like he wanted to, that was a sight Bam might never get to see again. The thought of it left him cold, and he huddled deeper into his jacket for comfort.

“That is one thing I’ve been wondering about, though,” Khun’s voice reached Bam from across the campfire and he couldn’t help but perk up slightly at the sound, tuning into the conversation for the first time. “Argus Sias is a Regular, not a Ranker. He has no particular gift with shinsu and isn’t from the Ten Families himself, so if he only trades information in exchange for eyes, where does he get the funds to be doing things like buying stasis pods? Or generating power? Or eating, for that matter?”

Shibisu shrugged. “Maybe he trades eyes for it?” he asked, his mouth full. Khun shot him a disgusted look, tossing a napkin into his face.

“An obsessed collector like that?” he asked as Shibisu spluttered. “I don’t know, does it seem like he’d be willing to part with any of his collection? And would anyone else even be willing to accept that as payment?”

“Well, when you put it that way, it is a little weird.”

“A little weird?” Endorsi snorted. “This whole thing goes well beyond ‘a little weird,’ don’t you think? Everything about this guy screams bad news.”

“Ghost-eyed Turtle is right. The many-eyed turtle has a bad smell to him,” Rak said, pausing in the middle of inhaling his noodles just to impart this wisdom. “I still think we should forget about him and find our own way.”

“We have no idea where to even begin, though,” Anaak reminded him.

Rak shrugged. “We’ve always managed before. What are you turtles so afraid of, anyways? We should just pick a path, and if it’s a dead end I’ll dig us through it.”

“And if it’s a thousand-foot drop?”

“The Sleepy Turtle can just make us all fly, can’t he? We can figure it out when we get there. Why should we waste time worrying about things that haven’t even happened yet?”

“... I mean, as hard as it is to believe, he does have a point,” Laure said, blinking sleepily.

“Not you too,” Khun hissed in exasperation. “You weren’t even awake until five minutes ago, that should automatically disqualify you from having an opinion.”

“But it only makes sense, doesn’t it? From the sounds of it, if we bargain with this man, either you or Bam will have to lose something valuable in exchange, and neither of you will ever accept the other making that sacrifice.” He shrugged. “Ergo, maybe we shouldn’t bargain with him at all. Problem solved.”

“You’d rather set off into the unknown with no directions whatsoever?”

“Better than wasting what little time we have arguing.”

Surprisingly, Khun didn’t seem to have an immediate answer to that. His mouth closed, and he stared thoughtfully into the fire for several long moments. “I’ll need to think this over a bit more,” he said eventually.

“I think all of us do,” Shibisu agreed, clearly relieved at his somewhat-positive response. He slung a friendly arm around Khun’s shoulder, only to have it immediately thrown off again. Undeterred, he continued, “For now, I suggest we all get some shut-eye and be ready to vote on our next move in the morning. What does everyone think?”

There was a low chorus of agreement at that, although Bam felt that it was likely that everyone was simply liable to go along with any plan that allowed them to go to sleep sooner. Conversation dwindled after that as meals were finished and the campsite was cleaned, and once everything had been put away, they retreated to their tents for the evening.

For Bam, it was a strange experience being the only person in his tent, as in the past, he would often share with one of the others, usually Khun. It apparently had gone without saying that they would be sleeping separately that night, however, and Bam had noticed Khun entering Shibisu’s tent just as he’d closed the flap on his.

It was fine, though, Bam decided as he went through the motions of getting ready for bed, popping a toothpaste tab in his mouth as he stripped off as much of his outerwear as he could. Nothing had really been resolved yet, so maybe it was for the best if they still kept their distance for the time being. It wasn’t like there would have been any whispered late-night conversations between the two of them tonight anyways. At least this way, he could be sure he’d get the sleep he needed.

Coming to this conclusion, Bam allowed his head to crash down on his pillow, determinedly not thinking about a certain blue-haired Lightbearer.

It felt like Bam had only been asleep for mere moments, however, when his consciousness was abruptly returned to him. Long years of training had put his reflexes on a hair trigger, and the second the tent flap opened and he felt a cool breeze on his face, his eyes snapped open.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

As quickly as his heart rate had spiked at the realization that he was no longer alone, Bam felt himself instinctively calm at the familiar voice. Unclenching his coiled muscles, he blinked drowsily at the silhouette in the doorway. “No,” he said.

“Are you lying to me?”

“... maybe.”

Chuckling, Khun closed the flap behind him and moved further into the tent, hunched down to avoid the low ceiling and stepping cautiously through the dark as he approached. Once he was close enough, he settled down on the end of Bam’s bedroll, making himself comfortable. Bam obligingly moved his feet to make more space for him.

He had expected Khun to get right to the point, to immediately begin outlining his reasons for visiting so late, but once Khun had finished shifting about on the bedroll he fell silent. Minutes ticked by without any words being exchanged between them, and Bam couldn’t help but wonder what his friend was thinking. He was tired and his head was still a bit fuzzy from sleep, but the anticipation—the dread—of finding out made it impossible for him to even consider falling asleep again.

Eventually, he couldn’t hold back any longer, and was the first one to break the silence.

“I really don’t know what brings you here this late, but I don’t want to fight anymore, Khun,” Bam sighed, wearily pushing his bangs back from his face. He was unsure what time it was exactly, but it must have been very late. He wondered if Khun had slept at all. “You know I hate fighting, especially with you.”

“...I do know, and I’m sorry,” Khun said. “I didn’t come to try to convince you of anything, I promise. I just want to talk for a bit, if that’s alright.”

His tone sounded genuinely contrite, and Bam pulled himself into a sitting position so he could see him a little better. The covers slipped down around his waist in the process, and even in the shelter of the tent the night air was chilly on his bare arms. “What did you want to talk about, then?” he asked.

Khun hesitated again, and Bam was frustrated that in the low light he still couldn’t quite make out his expression. Khun must not have brought any of his Lighthouses with him, and he wondered if that had been a deliberate choice.

Making up his mind, Bam allowed his Pocket to pop into existence next to him, casting a dim glow over their surroundings. It was a much fainter source of light than a Lighthouse, but provided just enough for him to finally make out the pale features of the person sitting next to him.

“Is this okay?” he asked, as blue eyes blinked at the sudden change.

Khun pursed his lips, not looking entirely happy about it, but likely understanding why Bam wanted to be able to see him. “Alright,” he conceded. “And… for what it’s worth, I just stopped by because I wanted to say I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to argue with you, I was just… afraid, when I thought you were about to accept Sias’s offer. I reacted badly.”

“I’m sorry too,” Bam admitted, relieved to get it off of his chest. “I was also terrified that you would accept his offer. I know you were just trying to protect me, as usual, but…” he trailed off.

“Is it really so wrong of me to try, though?” Khun asked, frowning. “Protecting you, I mean.”

“I just hate it when it leads to you trying to sacrifice yourself for my sake,” Bam said bluntly. “Believe it or not, Khun, I don’t enjoy watching the people I care for get hurt. It’s not that I have a problem with you protecting me, it’s just that sometimes, I’d prefer to be the one to take the hit.”

It was true. After all, what was the point of living in a world where the people he loved—and who loved him back—were no longer with him? Bam had followed Rachel into the Tower in the first place to avoid that fate, and he had already come narrowly close to losing Khun on many occasions in the time since then. He would do anything if it meant preventing that from happening again.

Khun sighed heavily, picking absentmindedly at the fabric of the bedroll. “I understand, Bam, but I really did mean what I said before,” he said. “Whether you are the Irregular of prophecy or not, people like Argus Sias will continue to approach you, and if you just let them keep tearing away parts of you a bit at a time, there might be nothing left in the end. Am I just supposed to be okay with that?”

“... No, of course not,” Bam said, having enough self-awareness to realize that it would be hypocritical to say otherwise, when Khun’s fears were so similar to his own. “But it would be just one eye, just this once, and I’ll be affected a lot less by losing one eye than you would be by losing two. You might never be a Lightbearer again, Khun. Is that really what you want?”

Khun shifted uncomfortably, his eyes glancing to the side, unable to hold Bam’s gaze. “It’s… complicated.”

“How so?” Bam asked.

“I guess I’ve been kind of… worried lately,” Khun said, the words coming out hesitantly compared to his usual quick-tongued grace. “Worried that it’s only a matter of time before you’re strong enough that you don’t need me or my help anymore. And some ways… maybe giving you a solid reason to leave me behind is preferable to the thought that one day you’ll simply wake up and realize that you’ve outgrown me. At least this way, I’d be able to do something good for you before we part, and maybe you’ll remember me well.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s completely ridiculous,” Bam repeated. For such a reason… He shook his head. “Khun, even if you lost your eyes, even if you were no longer able to work as my Lightbearer, I would never stop fighting to keep you with me. You have to know that.”

Khun gave a small smile at that, but it wasn’t a nice one. “Really?” he asked. “You’d drag a useless burden like me up the Tower?”

Bam didn’t like his question, or his tone of voice as he’d said it. He wondered how long Khun had been thinking like this, if it had been an idea he’d come up with on his own or if he’d been convinced of it by other people. Either way, Bam couldn’t allow that belief to stand.

“You’d never be a burden to me,” he said, doing his utmost to convey the sincerity in what he was saying. “And Khun, you have to realize that you’re setting a double-standard here. You were the one who offered to help me back when I was too weak to climb on my own, and you did carry Rachel up the Tower back when she was pretending she couldn’t walk.”

“You know I only took Rachel up so I could push her off the top, Bam,” Khun muttered darkly.

“Well… regardless of your reasons, you’ve already proven that you would be willing to help others climb regardless of how much they can contribute on their own, so you can’t begrudge me for being willing to do the same,” Bam insisted. “You’re a lot more than just a Lightbearer to this team. You’re our precious friend, and we care about you.”

Khun was silent, but his expression was just a little bit thoughtful. It gave Bam hope that maybe something he was saying was actually getting through to him.

“But don’t mistake that as permission to trade your eyes away, either,” he added firmly, hoping to hammer home the point. “I know you’re brilliant, Khun, and for all I know you could even learn to manage just fine without sight eventually, but I still don’t want you to be in a position where you’d have to. A lot of people depend on your eyes, and I… this might be selfish of me, but I’d also miss them if they were gone.”

“... Wait, what was that?” Khun asked, surprised.

“I said, I know you could probably teach yourself to manage if you couldn’t see—”

“No, that last part.”

Bam felt his face flush. Trust Khun to pick out the words he’d regretted the second they left his mouth. “I’d miss your eyes if they were gone,” he repeated, feeling a bit foolish, but the words were out now and all he could do was stick to them.

He wasn’t sure what kind of response he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t the look of sheer confusion he was met with. Frowning, Khun cocked his head quizzically to the side, like he did when he was faced with a problem that he didn’t fully understand. “You don’t want me to give up my eyes because you’d miss them?” he pressed. “Why?”

Bam felt strangely defensive at the direction this conversation was going in. “I don’t know, because they’re part of you? Because… I like them, maybe?”

Khun paused briefly before answering, seemingly mulling Bam’s words over. “You like them,” he said, and now Bam could detect the beginnings of amusement in his voice. “We’re only a few days away from being hunted down by Jahad’s forces, and that’s what you’re worried about?”

“Among other things,” Bam frowned, disliking Khun’s reaction for some reason. It wasn’t that strange of a thing to say, was it?

Then, Khun did something Bam hadn’t expected. He laughed.

“You haven’t changed, Bam,” Khun said, struggling for breath, but there wasn’t a hint of reproach in his voice. Once he’d recovered enough, he directed the full force of his attention back to Bam, fixing him with a devastating smile. “You still stubbornly hold your ground for the most inconsequential things, just like you did when Anaak broke into our room and demanded the Black March from you during the Crown Game. You really haven’t changed at all since then.”

Bam had the distinct sense that he was being made fun of, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel truly upset about it, not when Khun’s expression was so uncharacteristically open, affection softening the sleek lines of his face the longer he watched Bam. And Khun looking at him like that… appealed to some part of Bam that he was only tangentially aware of, made it all but purr in satisfaction. He found himself thinking that it would be good—for the best, really—if from now on Khun always made that face when he looked at him.

Wait. What was he thinking? Bam shook his head, wondering if it had suddenly gotten warm in the tent or if it was just him. He felt… strangely restless, like there was something else that he should be doing. Like this thing he should be doing was obvious, but he couldn’t focus on anything long enough to work out what it was.

His glance flicked back to Khun—had his eyelashes always been that long? He hadn’t noticed before… or maybe he had, and there had just been more pressing things to consider, although at the moment he couldn’t imagine anything could possibly be more important. He shifted closer to see them better, and in doing so nudged his hand against Khun’s. It was so warm against his skin, and he wanted to wrap his fingers around it, feel those slim digits slide in between his own. Wanted the physical reassurance that Khun was real and here and wasn’t going to leave him for a stupid reason.

Distracted by his thoughts, Bam overshot his mark as he leaned over, accidentally pressing his forehead to Khun’s. Their noses brushed briefly, and Bam felt a flare of embarrassment, an apology rising unbidden to lips until he realized that Khun was making no attempt to pull away from him. Rather, he seemed to be leaning in closer as well, angling his head so their gazes met. As expected, his eyes were even more beautiful up close—blue like the night sky, multifaceted and fathomless. Bam couldn’t bear the thought of them floating in a stasis pod somewhere on the 72nd Floor, lost to him forever, any more than he could stand to imagine losing their owner.

“Bam…” Khun murmured, his voice soft as the brush of a butterfly’s wing.

As if in a trance, Bam raised his hand, tracing the perfect curve of Khun’s cheek with his fingertips. The action felt right, but there was still that sense tickling at the back of his brain, telling him he was missing something. But it was so warm like this, and his eyelids were heavy. He was sure the answer would come to him eventually if he just…

“Bam. I think we should….”

“Yes?” Bam breathed, heart fluttering in anticipation.

Khun smiled at him, but it was a different sort of smile from the one he’d offered before, close-mouthed and subdued. “I think we should get some rest,” he said gently, pulling away, and just like that, the weird syrupy warmth from before was gone. “This is probably a conversation we should save for when we’re both more… coherent.”

It took him a second to register the meaning of the words, but then reality was descending over him once again. “Oh… you’re right,” Bam said hoarsely as he sat back, suddenly remembering their situation. “We’re… we were supposed to be resting, weren’t we?”

“Yes, although to be fair, the fact that we’re not is entirely my fault,” Khun said, with a wry little grin that threatened to make Bam’s heart kick into overdrive all over again. He wondered if he was coming down with something, because he was pretty sure that the arrhythmia he’d been experiencing all evening was not exactly a sign of good health. “I’m sorry again for waking you up, Bam. I’ll let you get back to sleep now.”

Khun rose from his seated position on the bedroll and made to leave. It should have been fine, they had said all that needed to be said, but Bam was still feeling oddly like he’d missed out on something important. Somehow, he felt that couldn’t just watch him leave without saying anything, not when this unsettled feeling still simmered under his skin.

“Remember what I said,” Bam warned just as Khun was lifting the tent flap, causing him to pause, glancing back over his shoulder. “I won’t accept it if you sacrifice yourself. We’ll find another way.”

Khun just gave him an indulgent look. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out,” he reassured him. “I’ve been giving it some thought, and I might already have a couple of ideas to follow up on, too. I just need to… poke into it a little further, see what turns up.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve you giving up your eyes,” Bam said firmly. “I mean it, Khun.”

“Yes, of course,” Khun said, chuckling. “You don’t have to worry so much, Bam. Now go to sleep, you’re exhausted.”

Bam frowned, attempting to weigh Khun’s words and deem whether he was being brushed off or not. It was difficult to tell, though, as Khun was not easy to read at the best of times, and the dim lighting from the Pocket made it impossible to see his face in enough detail to provide any hints. “... Alright,” he sighed eventually, suspecting that ultimately no other progress would be made even if he pressed the issue. “Good night, Khun.”

“Good night, Bam. Sleep well.”

And then Khun was gone, and Bam put his Pocket back into invisible mode and allowed himself to slump back onto his pillow. Khun had been right about him being tired, but rather than falling asleep immediately, he remained awake for some time afterward, staring at the grey canvas ceiling and trying to make sense of what had just happened.

And what had that been? he wondered, mind brimming with a mild sort of panic as he recalled Khun and him all-but curled up together, faces close enough that their breaths mingled while Bam practically stroked Khun’s face. Even just remembering the image made Bam’s face flush anew, a minute tremble shaking his hands as he raised them up to feel the heat radiating from his cheeks. Surely he shouldn’t be this out of sorts just from making up with his best friend after an argument?

… If that was really what had been going on there. He found he was no longer entirely sure.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem that the canvas up above had any answers for him. He continued turning the events of the night over in his mind for as long as he was able, until finally he could no longer stave off his exhaustion. He fell into a blessedly deep and dreamless sleep, and did not stir again for a long time.

*

It was late morning by the time Bam rose the next day, his unusual lateness likely a product of exhaustion and his overuse of shinsu catching up with him. He exited the tent, fully-dressed but still blinking sleep from his eyes as he joined the rest of the team around the cold remains of the campfire from the night before.

“Bam, good morning! I hope you slept well?”

As soon as he heard Shibisu’s words, Bam stopped in his tracks, immediately understanding with every atom in his body that there was something wrong. The words themselves were innocuous, but the way he said them sounded off somehow, and it put him on alert.

“I slept fine,” Bam said cautiously, suddenly all-too wide awake as he took in the Scout’s forced smile and anxious appearance. “Is something wrong, Isu?

“So, uh… you see, Bam,” Shibisu said, glancing around at the others for support and obviously choosing his words carefully. “Through no one person’s fault, it seems that there might have been a short period of time in the early morning where no one was keeping watch. And it seems that Khun… might have taken advantage of that opportunity to wander off on his own.”

Hearing those words was like being doused in a bucket of ice-cold water. “... What?” Bam uttered, his gaze darting around the camp, automatically seeking Khun out and only succeeding in confirming that what Shibisu had said was true—the Lightbearer was nowhere to be seen. His mind rushed back to their conversation the night before, the heady warmth, the apparent understanding they had come to.

Had all of that been a lie? Surely Khun wouldn’t…

Bam was cold with dread.

He just might.

“See, I told you it wouldn’t go over well,” Anaak said from where she was leaning against her rolled-up bedroll, munching a granola bar. She turned to Bam. “He took a Lighthouse, so the hag and I were thinking he probably went back to the cave to meet with that weird old guy again,” she added.

“Bam? Bam? My most beloved friend and companion, Bam?” Shibisu said, making a series of placating gestures that did nothing to disguise the panic in his eyes. “You can calm down now, we don’t know yet that that’s where he went, for all we know he might have just gone out on a little walk—”

“Oh please, it’s not like there’s anywhere else he could have gone to,” Endorsi said. “There isn’t a single speck of civilization around here for hundreds of miles, just rocks and more rocks. He definitely went back there.”

“Thank you for that, Endorsi,” Shibisu said through clenched teeth before turning back to Bam. “But anyways, Bam, even if that is where he went, then it still might not mean what you think it does. For all we know, he just went over to ask a few more questions, and not to….”

“Okay, here’s a better question,” Bam said, his hold on his emotions increasingly tenuous. “If we have a pretty good idea of where he went, then why didn’t anyone think to wake me before now? And why has no one gone after him yet?”

“You needed the sleep, and he was already long gone by the time we realized,” Hatz shrugged. “We figured there wasn’t much we could do at that point.”

“Exactly,” Endorsi said, adding, “and if he made his choice, so what? Who are we to say otherwise?”

“It isn’t just Khun’s choice to make—”

“What isn’t just my choice to make?”

Bam spun around and was met with the sight of a familiar figure making his way down the mountain path toward them. His hair was tied back in a tiny tail today, no jewelled clip in sight, but that was alright, because his eyes were still exactly where they were supposed to be and already the loveliest gems Bam could imagine.

“Khun!”

“Bam,” Khun replied, a concerned expression visible on his features as he came to a halt in front of them. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”

As Khun spoke, the rest of the team—minus Isu—began quickly losing interest in the proceedings now that it seemed the excitement had passed, going back to whatever they’d been doing before Bam had made a fuss. He thought he could hear a few grumbles about “stupid blue turtles” and “making everyone worry for nothing” as they moved off or picked up where their own conversations had left off, until soon it was only himself and Isu left standing before Khun.

“I’m… I guess everything’s fine?” Bam said, momentarily overwhelmed by a combination of confusion, anger, and relief at this realization. “But you… where were you, Khun? For a second I was afraid you might have gone back to Argus—”

“Oh, I did,” Khun confirmed.

“You did—”

A Lighthouse flickered into existence next to Khun, and he tapped a few keys on the control panel. Before Bam’s eyes, the screen lit up, a series of complicated charts, diagrams, and lists of coordinates appearing on it. He didn’t understand a single word or number he was looking at, but at the same time, he understood their significance.

“I don’t believe it. How did you get these?” Shibisu asked, reaching over and flipping through a few of the windows as if to confirm that he was indeed seeing what he thought he was seeing. “That guy seemed pretty determined not to give anything to us without getting eyes in exchange. Don’t tell me you actually got him to agree to a different trade instead?”

“Not exactly. I just used Manbarondenna to trick him,” Khun said matter-of-factly. “Once I was just outside the cave and I was sure I could make it the rest of the way blind, I removed my eyes on my own and duplicated them. Then, after I’d given the duplicates to Sias I popped the originals back in and healed them with the Firefish. No harm done.”

“No harm—Khun, my love, is that even possible?”

“Obviously,” Khun replied, shrugging. “I still have my eyes, don’t I?”

“You do, but that’s… I wasn’t even aware you still had Manbarondenna. And if you were blinded at the time, how could you even tell that what he gave you was actually the information we needed?”

“I got Manbarondenna back a while ago, and as for Sias, I had a feeling he’d be honest about it. Even if he wasn’t, I figured I could always just come back and confront him once I could see again. And as it turned out, I didn’t need to.”

“But what about you?” Bam asked, anger set aside in favour of worry for the time being. He nudged Khun’s hand gently with his own. “Are you feeling okay? It must’ve hurt.”

Glancing quickly between the two of them, Shibisu made a hasty judgement call. He cleared his throat, clapping them each on the shoulder once. “Well, I think I’ll go start packing up. You two probably have a bit of catching up to do, so come join us whenever you’re ready, mmkay?”

With that, he all-but fled the scene, leaving Bam and Khun alone together. They faced each other warily for several long seconds, each trying to figure out where exactly they stood.

Khun was the first to break the silence. “You’re upset,” he said to Bam once Shibisu was out of earshot.

“Of course I am. I thought you were going to give him your eyes. I thought you were going to give up on us—on the team,” Bam corrected himself quickly. “And make no mistake, I’m still kind of mad that you left without telling anyone, and that you hurt yourself for our sake even if the damage wasn’t permanent.”

Khun, to his credit, did look a little guilty about that. “Bam, I…”

“... I am grateful though, that you came back in one piece,” Bam admitted, gentling. God help him, but it seemed that he still wasn’t capable of staying angry at Khun, not when he was too busy being simply relieved he hadn’t lost him again. “When I woke up and you were gone, I wasn’t sure you would.”

Khun hesitated, fingers flexing nervously. It was rare to see him this visibly affected by anything, when his expressions were usually so painfully controlled, every reaction measured. “I can’t say I didn’t think about it. But…”

“But?”

“... you said you liked my eyes,” he said. “No one’s ever said that before. When I was a kid people used to say they were awful, and to me they’ve always just been… my father’s eyes. They belong to Eduan, just like all of his children and everything we own. They’ve always been one more part of myself that I couldn’t ever escape from.”

“I do like them,” Bam insisted, embarrassed at how quickly the admission rose to his lips. “And you’re so much more than who your father is, Khun.”

“So you’ve been saying, maybe it’s about time I finally started listening to you,” Khun chuckled weakly. “Anyways, after you said that I guess I just thought that you shouldn’t have to lose any more things you like,” he said, his voice going strangely shy. “You said that you’d fight to keep me beside you, and as long as you still continue to do that, I’ll do my best to keep fighting to stay. I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it, but for you, I’ll try.”

Bam smiled at him, his heart warm with affection. “That’s all I can ask for. Thank you, Khun.”

Khun smiled back at him, one of the real ones he seemed to save just for Bam. “Anyways, now that that’s out of the way we should probably also go get packed up and be ready to move before our pursuers get here,” he said, voice sounding a bit more businesslike, a bit more like the ever-competent Lightbearer he showed to the world. “But maybe after that, once we’ve lost them and have had a chance to catch our breath…”

“Yes?”

Khun bit his lip, looking Bam over speculatively. “... After that, I think you and I should find time to continue that conversation we began last night.”

“Our conversation…?” Bam’s initial reaction was confusion, since the conversation they’d had the night before had been about the maps, and eyes, and a number of other things that had been solved now, hadn’t it? But almost unbidden, another image rose to his mind—noses brushing, half-lidded eyes, and an air of quiet anticipation. Surely that couldn’t be what Khun was referring to…?

Bam looked back at Khun, but he was already walking away, tossing a playful glance back over his shoulder as he went.

Confused, and yet at the same time buoyed up by a feeling he couldn’t quite understand, Bam followed after his best friend. He wasn’t sure why, but somehow, he couldn’t help but feel that good things were waiting on the horizon.

*

Princess Adori Jahad had admittedly had a number of expectations for her captain’s report, none of which prepared her for the situation she was faced with when her troop finally did dial in. Far from the anticipated announcement that they’d caught up to the Slayer Candidate’s party and would be bringing him into base shortly, Adori instead found herself presented with a highly unanticipated piece of bad news.

“What do you mean, dead?”

Swallowing, her captain angled his Observer to show her the scene in the cave. The majority was the same as ever, eyes staring ceaselessly out of softly-glowing fluid. Less familiar was the sight of the bloodstained corpse of one Argus Sias, his face twisted in death. The ice that had been keeping him pinned to the wall had largely melted now, allowing him to slump to the floor. A note had been pinned to his chest with Adori’s name on it, which her captain removed with a grimace, unfolding it and holding it up so she could read the contents.

You should make your lapdogs less obvious next time. K.

Adori sighed. “Get that mess cleaned up—the Regular Argus Sias was never here. I want you finished within the hour so you can continue your pursuit as soon as possible. Do you understand me?”

“It will be done, my lady.”

“I look forward to hearing better news during your next report, Captain.”

“... yes, my lady.”

The screen went dark. Adori leaned back in her chair, massaging her temples as she considered how much of a setback this development would represent.

It really was a shame. Argus Sias, for all of his… more unusual preoccupations, had been a talented Lightbearer and a reliable informant for many, many years. In the past, he’d often provided her with information about the groups of Regulars who came through his floor, even occasionally sending particularly problematic individuals off in the wrong direction at her request, to die hopelessly lost in the mountain tunnels. He wouldn’t have been on her payroll in the first place if he wasn’t at least somewhat capable of doing those things for her.

But he’d never been much of a fighter, or particularly good at handling pain. He probably hadn’t stood a chance against Khun Aguero Agnis in either combat or in interrogation. It was too much to hope that he hadn’t cracked in the end—the Khun brat had almost certainly walked away with the real information rather than the decoys that had been prepared for them.

So much for her plans to either cripple or delay Jue Viole Grace’s party on the 72nd floor. She was somewhat disappointed, but supposed she couldn’t be too disheartened with this result. There would be plenty more chances before the Irregular reached the top, after all.

This was just one battle, and the war remained.

The chase continued.