Chapter 32: Sonogong

  The red dust of the Outnds was a blur beneath the humming hovercycles.

  Jiwon let out a whoop of joy, her tactical goggles reflecting the desote horizon. Behind her, Ren was holding on for dear life, his knuckles white as he gripped her waist.

  "Miss Jiwon," Ren groaned, his face pale against the wind. "Can you please... slow down?"

  "No can do, Admin!" Jiwon yelled over the roar of the engine. She reached for the holster at her hip and pulled out her ser shotgun. "We have demons to burn!"

  A swarm of winged demons dived from the clouds, pulling level with her cycle. One screeched, its face inches from hers. "I am winking under my goggles," she chirped.

  Pew! Pew! Pew! With a single hand on the handle and the other on the trigger, she bsted three demons out of the sky, her aim true even at eighty miles per hour.

  Nearby, San pushed his hovercycle to the limit, but his knuckles weren't white from the speed—they were trembling. Three demons circled them, closing in like vultures.

  "I will use my corruption to tear its heart..." San muttered, raising his left hand toward the closest demon. But as his power flickered, his vision began to fracture. The screams of the war, the faces of those trainees he lost, the burns of the disc mech—it all rushed back at once. His hand shook violently; the General was breaking.

  Rin felt the tremor in his back. She leaned forward and whispered, "Enough. I'll handle it."

  "I’m sorry," San panted, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he focused solely on driving.

  Rin didn't hesitate. She stood up on the back seat of the moving cycle, her bance perfect. A fierce smile pyed on her lips as she drew her new staff. A demon lunged, its cws extended to tear her apart. Rin spun the staff with her one remaining arm, a blur of master-level technique.

  As the beast reached her, she clicked a hidden trigger. The staff surged with blue anionic energy, extending instantly with a violent snap. It impaled the demon's heart with surgical precision. The creature vanished into ash, and the staff retracted to its normal length in the blink of an eye.

  "I... AM... SONOGONG!" Rin yelled, her voice echoing across the wastend.

  Without warning, she leaped from the back of the cycle, hurtling toward a demon flying on the left.

  "Rin!" San yelled, horror snapping him out of his trance.

  Rin didn't fall. She tched onto the demon's back like a predator. The creature shrieked, banking hard and surging at a massive speed to shake her off. They were a blur of leather and blue light.

  Jiwon saw the opening. She gunned her engine, pulling her cycle parallel to the demon Rin was riding. She and Rin locked eyes for a split second and nodded.

  "Petrify!" Jiwon’s eyes fred a brilliant blue.

  The demon froze mid-air, its flesh turning to solid stone. The sudden whipsh of the demon stopping dead unched Rin high into the sky. She tucked into a roll, spinning her staff so fast she looked like a blue cyclone. The momentum carried her toward the final demon.

  BAM!

  She smmed the staff into the creature's face with the weight of a falling star. The demon plummeted to the earth, and Rin nded on top of it, driving her staff through its heart. It vanished into a cloud of ash before it could even hit the ground.

  "Let’s go, Monkey King!" San cheered, a genuine smile finally breaking through his pale face.

  Jiwon didn't waste the opportunity, blowing the heart out of the petrified stone demon still hanging in the air.

  Rin sprinted across the red sand, jumping back onto the seat behind San as he slowed down just enough to catch her.

  "WHUAAAA!!!" she let out a piercing warcry, her staff humming with the spirit of the legend she had cimed.

  ***

  In the quiet of the backroom, Eunchae—her bck hair damp with sweat—was a whirlwind of motion. She hopped from foot to foot, throwing sharp jabs into the air. "Ha! Ha!"

  Wonjung walked in, the Gold Mask tucked under her arm. She paused at the table, picking up the shimmering Ptinum Mask. A small giggle escaped her. "Ptinum Mask... you came up with this?"

  Eunchae stopped mid-punch, ughing sheepishly. "Yeah... I only did it so it’s like, cooler than the Silver Mask. But I didn't intend for it to be cooler than you, unnie!"

  "Oh, please." Wonjung sat on the marble floor, leaning back with a rare, rexed posture. "You are way cooler than me and Leeseo combined."

  Eunchae’s eyes beamed. "Am I? No... you're just saying that."

  "I'm not." Wonjung stood up, dusting off her pants. "I’m genuine."

  Eunchae pouted at her, but the pride was visible in her stance. Wonjung gestured to the open space. "Punch the air again."

  Eunchae obeyed. Whistle. The force of her strike cut through the silence of the room.

  "Nice. One tip, though: aim lower."

  Eunchae adjusted, driving her fist a few inches lower.

  "See? Nice. You’re tall, Eunchae. You need to jab straighter so the damage is more direct," Wonjung coached, her eyes sharp and analytical.

  "Okay," Eunchae nodded, soaking up the advice.

  "Also," Wonjung continued, "I noticed that you’re very... out there. You strike your enemy in the middle, like a piercing star."

  "Thanks!" Eunchae smiled brightly.

  Wonjung shook her head, her expression turning serious. "That’s not a compliment. You see, while that’s good in war, here? In the arena? That’s predictable. Try to be more... slippery. Evasive. Attack from the side."

  "Okay," Eunchae beamed. "Thanks, unnie!"

  "You're welcome, Gaeu—" Wonjung caught herself, the name of her dead friend nearly slipping out. "—eherm, Eunchae." She offered a small, forced smile.

  "Hey!" Seonho’s voice barked from the doorway. "Eunchae, Leeseo is looking for you."

  "Oop!" Eunchae bowed quickly, snatched her Ptinum Mask from the table, and ran toward the hall. "See ya!"

  Wonjung turned to face Seonho. The warmth in the room vanished instantly.

  "What are you doing? Buying the trust of an innocent kid?" Seonho asked, his voice dripping with suspicion.

  Wonjung let out a sharp ugh. "This idiot. Eunchae’s a hero and a soldier. What do you mean 'innocent'?"

  "She’s innocent when it comes to your theatrics," Seonho countered, stepping closer.

  Wonjung stared directly into his eyes, her gaze unyielding.

  "What?" Seonho snapped.

  "Are you still sad? About Sungmin?"

  Seonho’s face contorted. He ughed, a harsh, jagged sound, before he lunged. In a blur of motion, he grabbed Wonjung and pressed his dagger against the side of her neck. "Say his name again."

  Wonjung didn't even flinch at the steel against her throat. She scoffed, looking at his reflection in the bde. "See this scar on my face? He caused that."

  "You deserve that, witch," Seonho hissed. "I don’t trust you. One... bit."

  "He caused me this scar protecting you," Wonjung whispered, her voice cold as ice. "The demon."

  Seonho froze. The air left his lungs. He slowly lowered the dagger, letting her go as the weight of her words settled over him like lead.

  Wonjung straightened her colr, a ghost of a smile returning. "Power really comes with such a high price."

  "So?"

  "Xin needs to go... and so do all demons," Wonjung said, her eyes looking far beyond the room.

  "Yeah..." Seonho sighed, the fire in him repced by a weary hollow. "Good luck with that."

  He turned and left, leaving Wonjung alone in the white marble silence.

  ***

  Ash and Fei moved through the mass void of their home turf, their footsteps ringing out on shimmering ptforms that materialized just a split second before they touched down. Ash adjusted his suit jacket, looking out of pce in the nothingness, while Fei’s revealing dress billowed in a draft that only she could feel.

  "Home sweet home," Ash muttered, his eyes tired. "Yet we are heading toward a relic even I don’t dare to look at."

  "Have some courage, Ash," Fei chided, her eyes fixed on the horizon of swirling nebue.

  "I am not scared... I am tired!" Ash yelled, his voice echoing into the vacuum. "I am done with all of this nightmare! Xin is out. Why doesn’t he just do this all himself?"

  Fei let out a soft, musical ugh. "Hey..." she stopped, turning to him with a pyful smile. "Ash... have you ever heard of The Syer?"

  Ash gave her a look of pure confusion. "Huh?"

  "He had many names... The Syer... but since the myth says he cannot die, they also call him the Living Paradox... They also call him Prince of Cosmos. Some people," she giggled, "just call him Ben."

  Ash let out a long yawn. "What of him?"

  "Ben is... special. He commands the stars in the Oblivion realm," Fei sighed, her expression turning uncharacteristically solemn. "They say he keeps the bance of reality itself."

  "Is he a demon?" Ash asked.

  "No. Ben is a man, cursed with cosmic exception."

  Ash nodded slowly, memory clicking. "Yuh-huh. Oh, wait—I know this. There’s a Goddess... she blessed the Earth with celestial energies in exchange for a man who keeps the bance. Is that him? Is he Ben?"

  Fei blinked, genuinely surprised. "How do you know so much history?"

  "I read books when I'm bored... which is always," Ash shrugged. "But why are you asking about Ben now?"

  Fei sighed, looking down at the void beneath her feet. "Xin fights a lot of wars in Oblivion, in other realms, and now on Earth. He’s pushing... he’s taking so much."

  Ash shrugged again. "We are just demons who love him. But why do we have to fight his war? We’re not even his children."

  "I am... just scared," Fei admitted, her voice dropping to a whisper. "What if Ben decides someday that Xin is an imbance?"

  Ash sighed, looking up at the distant, flickering stars. "Well... I hope he takes us with him."

  Fei ughed, the sound haunting and bright against the darkness.

  ***

  Wonjung stepped back into the suite, the heavy silence of her encounter with Seonho still clinging to her. Leeseo stood in the center of the room, her eyes red-rimmed but her posture straight.

  "Guys, listen. Come here," Leeseo commanded.

  They circled up—the ghost of the past, the trauma of the present, and the hope of the future.

  "I just wanna say something... I want everyone to listen and not talk."

  The three of them nodded. Wonjung leaned against the marble wall, Seonho stood tense with his hands in his pockets, and Eunchae watched with wide, worried eyes.

  "Wonjung..." Leeseo started, her voice trembling. "I don't really feel too good about you." A tear escaped, trailing down her cheek. "I really, really don't. The fact that you’re even here... every time I see you, it reminds me of being powerless in a cage. How you threatened Seonho’s life with your illusions... and I..." She choked back a sob. "I hate the fact that you used me for your experiments."

  Wonjung let out a long, weary sigh, looking at the floor. She didn't deny it. She couldn't.

  "And you never even apologized," Leeseo continued, her voice gaining strength. "And you’re taunting even my boyfriend. Okay, he’s a demon. You hate him. You saw a vision—you’re still unsure if it was Xin or him—but he’s trying. He really is." Leeseo’s voice broke as she looked at Seonho.

  Wonjung gave a slow, solemn nod.

  Leeseo wiped her face and turned back to the girl in the Gold Mask. "I know he is... because I see that you are trying too."

  She turned her gaze to her boyfriend. "Babe, enough with pointing daggers at her neck. We can't win if we're killing each other."

  Then, she looked at Eunchae. "And Eunchae."

  "Twin?" Eunchae whispered.

  "Thank you for being so... pure for all of us," Leeseo cried, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

  Finally, Leeseo faced Wonjung one st time. They stood eye-to-eye—the girl who was broken and the girl who broke her.

  "Wonjung," Leeseo said firmly.

  Wonjung sighed. "Yeah."

  "I don't like you."

  The words hung in the air like a cold front.

  "But right now... we both want Xin dead... so we have to win."

  Wonjung met her gaze, a spark of genuine respect flickering in her eyes. She nodded. "Understood."

  "Let’s get that damn Crest," Leeseo growled, her face setting into a grim mask of determination.

  "Yeah!" Eunchae cheered, pumping a fist into the air.

  BEEP!

  The overhead monitors flickered to life, the Covenant's clinical voice echoing through the suite:

  MATCH 2: EUNCHAE (MAINLAND) vs. AERI (INCHEON)

  Eunchae’s jaw dropped as she spun around to face the screen. "Say what now?"

  ***

  The arena floor hissed as the combatants took their pces. Aeri was the picture of military discipline—blue beret, blue Kevr, and two massive, hydraulic-powered robotic knuckles that hummed with kinetic potential.

  Eunchae bounced on the balls of her feet, her bck hair swaying. "Aeri! That looks so cool!" she cheered, her voice full of genuine excitement.

  Aeri smirked, her eyes cold. "Omae wa mō owari da, gaki," she said in Japanese.

  "What now? I’m sorry, I don't speak Japanese!" Eunchae chirped.

  BEEP!

  Eunchae slid her Ptinum Mask into pce. "Okay. Let’s make this fun!"

  FIGHT!

  Eunchae charged, but Aeri was a blur of blue. Eunchae swung her sai, but Aeri ducked with clinical precision. BAM! A metal fist caught Eunchae square in the face. The obsidian mask cracked instantly.

  "Eunchae!" Seonho roared from the suite. Leeseo gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

  Aeri didn't stop. Right hook! BAM! Eunchae swayed, trying to find her rhythm, but Aeri was relentless. A punch to the stomach doubled her over, followed by a brutal uppercut and a straight jab. Eunchae hit the floor hard, blood spraying across the sand.

  The crowd erupted. Aeri looked at the announcer, waiting for the ten-count. But there was no count. She turned around to see Eunchae shaking, pushing herself up with blood dripping from the chin of her mask. She raised her sais, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

  "Eunchae..." Leeseo was crying now, clutching the railing.

  Aeri lunged again. BAM! Another knockdown. She grabbed Eunchae by her bck hair and delivered three successive, sickening punches to her face. The mask was crumbling, revealing a face bruised and battered, but her eyes... her eyes were still open.

  "She’s still awake. Impressive tenacity," Aeri ughed. She hoisted Eunchae up with one hand. "I’ll just send you over the edge, then."

  As Aeri reached the boundary, preparing to drop Eunchae’s limp body out of the ring, something in Eunchae snapped.

  "What?" Aeri gasped.

  Eunchae’s body coiled like a spring. She spun mid-air, hooking her legs around Aeri’s arm and nding her foot on the woman’s shoulder. With a roar of effort, she smmed her sai into the seam of the right gauntlet. CRACK. The heavy machinery shattered and fell to the floor in pieces.

  "No!!"

  Eunchae didn't let go. She locked her legs into a standing armbar, the sound of Aeri's bone snapping echoing through the silent arena. Eunchae kicked off Aeri's chest to send herself flying backward, nding in a low crouch.

  She ripped off the remains of her cracked mask and threw it aside. Her forehead was a curtain of red, but her gaze was that of a feral predator.

  In the suite, Wonjung let out a slow, dark smile. "My girl."

  Aeri, cradling her broken arm, charged in a blind rage. "WRAAHHH!!"

  Eunchae didn't meet her head-on. She slid between Aeri's legs and stabbed. Thwick.

  "Ahhh!!"

  Eunchae was a shadow now—slippery, evasive, attacking the sides just like Wonjung taught her. A stab to the abdomen, a spin, a stab to the shoulder. Aeri tried a desperate left-handed punch, but Eunchae swayed and buried her sai in Aeri's chest pte.

  Aeri managed to catch her, smming Eunchae into the dirt and nding one final, heavy punch.

  "Eunchae!" Leeseo screamed.

  But Wonjung didn't move. She kept smiling.

  Aeri stepped back, her vision swimming, waiting for the end. But again, no count. She looked down. Eunchae was already standing.

  "GRAAAHH!!" Eunchae tackled her, pinning the soldier to the ground. Stab, stab, stab. She avoided the vitals, but targeted the joints and nerves. She drove both sais into Aeri's remaining left gauntlet, pinning it to the arena floor. With a scream of pure adrenaline, she hauled Aeri up, spun her around, and delivered a massive kick to the chest.

  The left gauntlet was ripped clean off, and Aeri was sent sailing over the boundary line, crashing into the dirt outside the ring.

  WINNER: EUNCHAE.

  The crowd went wild. Leeseo colpsed into Seonho’s arms, sobbing in pure relief. Wonjung stood in the back, cpping slowly.

  Eunchae picked up her broken Ptinum Mask and pressed it back onto her bloody face. "That’s how it’s done in the Mainnd," she said in cold, perfect Hangul.

  She didn't wait for the cheers. She turned and walked into the shadows of the tunnel.

  Grit.