Amu

With a flip and a twist in mid-air, Xander slashed the chests of three grey-coats, who crumpled to the ground. In seconds, he was surrounded. Manami's eyes were wide as she reloaded her crossbow, shooting with terrifying accuracy as shrapnel surrounded her entire body for protection.

"Go!" Liza yelled. Her ruby red eyes met mine, filled with fear and yet determination. "Go, we'll be fine!"

But she would not be fine. Simon would not be fine, and I knew it. I choked back a sob, turning and following my friends. I could hear the sound of bullets, of UV bullets, and ran.

And standing there with a gun in my face, his eyes flickering gold and silver, expression horribly cold and empty, was—

"Will?"

I glanced out of the corner of my eye. Alex was inching forward, his green eyes wide and glimmering, his chest rising and falling. He seemed about to fly into a thousand pieces.

I looked back at Will. His eyes flickered towards Alex, then widened, flickering like the shutter of a camera, their shade bleeding rich brown.

"Will? Is that you?" Alex's voice was so desperately filled with hope and so terribly broken I could barely stand to hear him.

It seemed the entire room was transfixed. Not even the soldiers that held us captive moved a single muscle, watching as Alex approached Will slowly.

The horrible thing was how similar Will looked, and yet how different. He still hand the same milk-chocolate skin, the thick muscles and the stocky build. As the cloudy gold of his eyes dissolved, replaced by the exact shade of almonds.

"Alex?" Will whispered.

"Will," Alex said, his voice cracking into a sob. Then, without warning, he hurried forward and threw his arms around his neck, pressing his forehead against Will's. "Oh, God, Will, I missed you, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"

Will's hands were shaking madly, as if he could barely hold the gun up. He was frozen in place, stiff as tears poured down his cheeks, mingling with sweat. His chest rose and fell, his eyes shifted madly from silver and gold to brown, as he tried to regain control of himself.

The gun fell from his grip, clattering to the ground, and he embraced Alex, his shaking arms rising from their stiff position at his sides to bring him closer, desperately close, as if they could never be close enough.

"That's enough of that," A voice said calmly.

Entering through the door was Yoichi Sakamoto. He seemed untroubled by the soldiers that surrounded us. A strange sense of calm washed over me, one that I realized was oddly familiar, as if the emotion had rushed through my veins before without my notice, until now, when it was much stronger.

"Yoichi-kun," Tadase said, and I could hear relief in his voice.

Yoichi-kun regarded Tadase, a cold and calculating look, and a different feeling rushed through my veins as I took in the scene: realization. Realization and fear. He was walking into a room filled with supernatural-hating grey coats armed to the teeth. The soldiers were not attacking him, remaining in their current positions. And they wouldn't attack him because—

"You're a traitor," I whispered.

A smile flickered at the corners of his mouth, but it did not reach his eyes. "I was hoping sudden exposure to the S-Radiation would dull your senses. How unfortunate that it didn't. A traitor, you say?" He mused. "No. You foolish supernaturals are gullible. It should have been obvious from the start. I'll cut you ten some slack, however, since you are... new, I suppose. I am not a traitor. I simply outsmarted you."

"You're with Kronos." Utau shook. "You're a Titan, aren't you? You started a fake rebellion and planned to destroy them from the inside with no one the wiser."

"That's disgusting," Rima spat. "There are children! Innocent children, innocent people who would have settled with equality, with freedom! They're your own people, you're a supernatural, you traitorous basta—"

Yoichi-kun flicked his fingers. The soldier holding Rima punched her in the gut, hard, and she doubled over, wheezing and retching. The soldier hauled her upright. "Good guesses, but they're not quite right," He said easily. "I am a Titan. I did start a fake rebellion. The true rebellion, I stamped out years ago. The remainders are simply the remnants of the scattered rebellion, and they will be destroyed, of course. I am not, however, a supernatural. I am simply a man smarter than the rest of you, enough to be able to make things appear as if I am one of you."

"That's impossible," Kukai protested.

"It is not," Yoichi-kun disagreed. "Did it truly never occur to you that S-Radiation may have other benefits than the ones I spoke of you to? The truth of S-Radiation is that it is like a leech. It seeks out magic and the magical energies and absorbs it as a sponge would absorb water. It converts it to life energy, leaking that life energy everywhere—that is why the world's beautiful greenery has been restored. In simpler terms, it seeks out supernaturals, steals away their powers and their life, and then turns it into life energy. By harnessing S-Radiation, I can appear as a supernatural—"

"You hold the sponge that soaks the water, you're just not the sponge yourself and you're not getting wet." Nagihiko's voice was bitter. "Like a magician and his tricks."

"Indeed." Yoichi-kun smiled at Nagihiko, whose face was cold with anger.

"You're sick," Nadeshiko spat. "What gives you the right to steal people's lives away for your own disgusting purposes?"

Yoichi-kun smiled, seemingly unaffected by Nade's spiteful words. "Purification. Supernaturals are an unnatural plague. Why should you have any right to power when you are no better than normal humans? You abuse your power, view us as mundane, you simply because we do not have your... gifts."

"So you're jealous," Yaya said simply. Yoichi-kun's gaze snapped to her. "You're jealous because we have powers and you don't." She stuck her tongue out at him, and for a moment, I both admired her fearlessness and wished to scream at her to be silent. "Like a child angry because another child has a toy that he doesn't."

But Yoichi-kun only chuckled. "I assure you, I am only aiming for purity."

"There's nothing wrong with being a supernatural." Tadase's voice was hard. "You agree with me, I know that. Just because someone isn't the same as the majority, just because someone is different, doesn't mean that it's wrong. Tell me, why is this any different? Why are supernaturals so bad? What is it, exactly, that gives you the right to 'purge' the world like we're some sort of disease? There is nothing wrong with being a supernatural, and you know it!"

For a moment, Yoichi-kun's eyes narrowed. Then he relaxed. "And that is where you're wrong." He turned to face all of us. "You say I am a traitor. You say that I betrayed you for Kronos. You are wrong." His voice grew colder, sharper, like it had begun to freeze. "I have not betrayed you for Kronos. I could never have done so, because it is impossible to betray him when it is what he has wanted all along."

He smiled, and this time as I watched in horror and disgust, his eyes lit up, the bright, electric blue I had always thought his eyes to be fading away like the illusion it was, leaving one eye purely gold, the other purely silver, as if someone had drained the humane colors from his eyes, including the irises, the pupils, and even the whites of his eyes, and refilled them with liquid gold and silver. The color from his skin and hair drained away, leaving snow-white hair and translucent skin from which you could see the outlines of strange black veins pulsing from beneath. He had the immortal beauty of a fallen angel; still timeless and inhuman, and yet dark, cold and malevolent. He wasn't truly human... but he wasn't truly supernatural. He was everything and nothing, and my body seized as I realized the truth the moment before he said it—

"I am Kronos."

—and it could not be, it couldn't, because it was just so impossible... we had met him ten years ago, ten whole years, and the man then was not this thing now. It had to be impossible, and yet it wasn't. Through the denial, the refusal to believe it was true, I knew. Yoichi Sakamoto was Kronos. This was the man determined to destroy us all.

"You erased their memories." Kairi spoke. "So they wouldn't remember what you looked like. Your memory modification… It has to do with S-Rays, doesn't it?"

"I'm impressed," Kronos said, smiling. "How did you manage to figure that out?"

"I guessed." Kairi smiled coldly back at Kronos. "It was easy enough to decipher, it's not like you're all that bright. What other explanation was there for the fact that everyone magically seemed to have lost their memories? That's another thing it can do, isn't it?"

"In a way." Kronos' eyes glinted evilly. "You see, because S-Rays leach away magic and replaces it with life energy, I can manipulate it in order to contain memories, to contain the past. Life energy is created in the present, after all. Using science you children certainly wouldn't understand, I manipulated the life energy within your own bodies, thereby gaining access to every mind in the world and giving myself the ability to manipulate everything about you."

"Except for us," Ikuto said quietly.

"Excuse me?" Kronos' gaze flickered to him, as if politely interested.

"Except for us," Ikuto stared right back at Kronos, midnight blue against gold and silver. "You tried to control us, didn't you? That's why you asked us our full names. I get it now. By giving you our names, we gave you our identities. Almost like in a contract, like selling your soul to the devil. It's a basic principle in dark magic."

"Correct," Kronos said, stepping forward and putting his face an inch from Ikuto's. "Are you all intending on revealing all of my secrets?"

Ikuto continued, ignoring his thinly veiled threat. "I learned that from the rebels here at camp. Except we cheated you. We're supposed to give you our entire identities. But we never told you the names of our guardian characters. Of course, being character bearers, the name of our guardian characters is extremely significant in control, because they are literal representations of what we try to be. But we never told you their names. And because you managed to manipulate the memories of everyone, even the people here at camp, you erased any chance of figuring out their names from anyone here. No one but us knows their names. And you can't make us give you them. We've already proved resistant to all the effects of S-Rays, which is your only power. There is nothing you can do to control us."

The smile had slid right off of Kronos' face, and his eyes flashed with a terrible fury, a horrifying power that caused every soldier to shrink back. But not us, I realized.

"I have more important things to deal with than children too stupid to understand the ways of this world and too idiotically fearless to know their places." His voice was dangerously soft. "Goodbye, children."

He turned to Will and Alex, and lifted his gun. Alex stiffened, his eyes wide, but it was too late. With a loud bang, he crumpled to the ground, his chest blossoming with red. The whole world seemed to slow down; I could hear screaming, somehow felt the vague sensation of tears running down my cheeks, but it seemed I couldn't move. I only vaguely remembered I was subdued by a soldier when I found I could not rip my arms away.

"No!" Will fell to his knees, his arms enveloping Alex, whose grass-green eyes fluttered and whose breathing was harsh and ragged. "No, no, no, please, baby, you've gotta stay with me. Okay?" His voice cracked as he spoke, wavering as his shoulders shook, cradling Alex to his body. He pressed his palm to Alex's chest, trying to staunch the bleeding. "Come on, baby, you've got to stay here, stay with me, please, don't die, don't die…"

Alex's mouth was just slightly agape and his eyes watching Will, somehow soft rather than pained or in shock, as if marveling in his love's beauty. A terrible, sad sort of smile curved his lips up, and his trembling hand slowly lifted to grasp Will's over his chest.

"Please, please," Will sobbed. "Alex, I love you."

The smile did not fade from Alex's face as he looked up at Will, his ragged breathing growing quieter and quieter as the life and light in his eyes faded away, and then Alex was gone.

Kronos was speaking, but I couldn't hear what he was speaking any longer. His expression was entirely indifferent, as if he had done little more than squash an ant beneath his foot. Alex had not touched him, had not said a word to him, and he had killed him simply because he was there.

The strongest, most overpowering sensation seeped through my bones; Not once in my life had I ever felt such rage, such fury. It seemed to turn my vision red, clearing away the fuzz, and I struggled anew, the sensation of absolute hate working away the shock. As I met the eyes of my friends, I knew they felt the same.

There was but one thing we had left. We had no other options; we could only hope it would work again. It had to.

I closed my eyes and prayed. Please. Please. Please.

For Alex.

"Now!" I yelled.

Unlock my heart!

Faster than thought, Will had shifted his gun just a fraction, enough to miss Alex and bury a bullet in the wood of the floor. Using that sudden advantage, Alex flew back onto his feet, whirling in a circle. With a nasty crunch, he had roundhouse-kicked the love of his life in the side of the head. Will crumpled to the floor, just as the ten of us were dissolved into light.

Character transformation: Radiant Dream!

Then the room exploded, sending the multitude of soldiers flying as the walls and roof were incinerated. Pure energy rushed through our veins, flooding through our bones, our breath. We closed our eyes, breathing deeply.

"Let's go!"

"Get them!" Kronos shrieked.

And then our feet were no longer on the ground, our eyes were wide, and the stars were unfolding before our eyes. The city blossomed beneath us as we rose to great heights, the feel of pure weightlessness echoing in our ears. We had a sudden flashback, remembering the first time we had gazed upon Othrys, dazzled by its beauty, its perfection. Now, we knew how wrong we were.

High in the clouds above, the Road of Stars was once more visible, glittering and twisting in the sky. We knew what we had to do; our time here had ended, and there was nothing more we could do to save the world. We had to leave, to follow the path the unfinished prophecy had laid down for us to walk. There was no other choice.

As we looked down at the imperfect city, our call to bring us away, as far away as we could go, was cut short when we saw the carnage of the camp, burning to the gound, still filled with the supernaturals who had failed to escape. I could hear the gunshots and the explosions, the sound of terror. I could almost hear the sounds of mourning for everything they had lost.

Everything we had lost.

Liza. Simon. Xander. Manami. Lulu. Yua. Manfried. Cyrus. Rhiannon. Aoi. Alex. Will. Countless other names, other faces, people who we had known, spoken to, laughed with; they had become our friends without our realizing. Perhaps we had even taken them for granted. They were still down there, still fighting, and yet we knew we would never see again. With no way to comfort them, no way to comfort ourselves, we gripped their hands tighter, suddenly wishing nothing more than to erase our pain, even if for only a moment.

Even as we soared away, enveloped in peaceful white light, we could not erase the last images of our lost family, and we could not escape the sensation of drowning.

Amu

My travels sent me to the deepest corners of the black palace, where few roamed due to the lonely air and distance from the rest. It did, however, cause a meeting I would not forget for quite some time.

Almost three weeks after we had first arrived, I was exploring the fifth floor, where the inner part was built with columns opening up to the inner courtyard, a space not often used. It was windy and bright, right below the hole in the cavern ceiling, but it was secluded and serene.

Lost in thought, I paid no attention the the slow footsteps ahead of me, and before I knew it, I had a face full of green and bronze fabric with the crisp scent of apples and snowmelt pervading my nostrils.

"Oof!" I backed up hurriedly, flushing in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry!"

"Watch it!" A sharp, fluid voice cut through to my ears, and it took me a moment to reorient myself before I could see the one whom the voice belonged to.

He was tall and slender, although his lean, high form showed he had strength enough. His skin was pale with a very faint flush gracing high cheekbones and angled planes; he was quite handsome. Although he held a faint aura of pride, there was more emotional pain and dark tragedy, evident from sharp green eyes that held a shattered look that was healing agonizingly slowly. Altogether, it was a very startling appearance.

"I'm sorry," I said kindly, smiling apologetically at him, and he blinked at me with surprised eyes. "I should have been watching where I was going."

He looked at me for a moment, before casting his gaze to the ground. "It's fine. I should have seen you coming."

"It's fine, it's fine," I said breezily. "It's nice to meet you." I held out my hand brightly. He looked at my hand, uncomprehending, and I dropped it awkwardly. "Ah... so you're one of the other refugees, right?"

"Yes," he said finally. "I am."

"The nymphs are very kind," I said brightly. "It's the first time I've ever met one, so..."

"You're human." It wasn't a question, and it sounded oddly loaded.

"Er... yeah, I am."

"From... Japan?"

"Yeah!" I nodded. "Someplace called—I don't know if I'm pronouncing this right, but—Teoxinῖαrðr?"

He mumbled something under his breath, and his shoulders relaxed very slightly. "I don't believe I've ever visited that particular place," he said carefully.

"Have you ever met humans in other places other than Teoxinῖαrðr?" I asked curiously.

"Yes." His voice was short. "I am not human, however—I am... from someplace very... cold."

"Ah, so you're not used to warm places?"

"I am."

"Oh."

"Born someplace cold," he corrected himself, "but I grew up someplace much warmer."

Ah, so he was adopted. "Cool! Japan has a very temperate climate, so it's normally really nice there." I paused, then laughed. "Well, maybe not during typhoon season, but for the most part, yeah, it's nice."

"I visited a place like your Japan once," he said after a moment. "There were trees with very beautiful pink blossoms everywhere."

"Ah, the cherry blossoms!" I smiled proudly. "Yeah, they're beautiful, aren't they?"

He nodded stiffly. "I do believe I must be going now."

I cocked my head, but shrugged lightly. "All right. It really was very nice talking to you. Ah—I can't believe I never introduced myself! I'm Amu." I held out my hand.

He looked at me for a moment, then took it, eyes guarded. His hands were cold like ice, but warmed considerably under my touch.

"You may call me Loki."

Weeks passed, and I returned to the courtyard of the black palace every day to speak with Loki, pestering to know more of this odd stranger. With some clear amusement and wary patience, he would await me, and in time I would grow to know him. He was quiet and thoughtful, with lingering sadness I guessed would never truly leave him. He was at times proud, vain and rude, although I often caught a flash of guilt. He wasn't very good at apologizing, but he seemed happier if he did—rather, he seemed out of practice. There was an undeniable cruel streak evident from his posture and expression, but he would always, always hold back, almost as if in fear of himself. He was, after all, the god of chaos in a distant place of a cosmic tree with nine realms, denying his own identity in light of the horrors he had wrought upon the worlds.

He didn't have a happy story. Born as a Jötunn, a frost giant of the realm of Jǫtunheimr, he had been the firstborn son of the ruler of the realm. Before he was a year old, the war with Ásgarðr had appeared on the threshold of his father, and in the wreckage while the Jötnar source of power, the Casket of Ancient Winters, was taken from Jǫtunheimr, a small shape-shifting child was taken from the ruins by the great All-Father himself. He had been raised alongside Odin's son Thor, who was strong, beautiful and brave and in the eyes of many—including, I suspected, Loki's—he was perfect. And while he grew up a prince, always trying to reach Thor, it soon became clear that he would never be great in the eyes of the Æsir, most of whom hated children he both mothered and fathered. His son Sleipnir was under Odin's control. His daughter Hel was a damned goddess to rule over the dead. Fenrir had been bound to the ground. Jǫrmungandr had been tossed into an ocean to hold Miðgarðr until the worlds ended.

During one night, right before his adopted brother's coronation, he had slipped deep into the halls of the city and found the Tesseract. Unable to hold the entire might power of the living Tesseract in his mind, it shattered almost completely, driving Loki to do what he swore he would not—betray his family in his bitterness and anger, and let the natural-borne chaos overtake him. When he learned he was Jötnar, he dethroned his father, locked his brother out of Ásgarðr and took the throne, attempting to kill Thor and destroy Jǫtunheimr.

He spent many years terrorizing Miðgarðr—if he couldn't have what he wanted, he would take everything else. He terrorized the realm, making many great Miðgarðian enemies and allying himself with other enemies of Miðgarðr. He battled in New York, caused the end of Ásgarðr, was even as a child when he died in an attempt to redeem himself and failed to remain allied with the Æsir as he grew up once more. Eventually, Thor had captured Loki after one last failed attempt to raze the realm and dragged him back to Ásgarðr. There they they killed his two most innocent children—Narfi and Vali—one being transformed into a wolf that ripped his beloved twin to pieces, the remaining entrails of his son used to bind him to the ground, letting the venom of a poisonous snake drip venom into his eye.

Loki wasted eons in agony like that, before he had finally broken free, along with the remainder of his children, which had fought against the Æsir, ending in the deaths of Fenrir, Jǫrmungandr, and Odin as well as the near-death of his brother Thor, Heimdallr and himself. After he fell into the abyss of space, he had arrived here in Ριnymkhuórei, into the arms of the Nereids, who had kindly joined with the other nymphs of Ριnymkhuórei and had managed to heal both his mortal wounds and what was left of his mind, which had eventually been rebuilt back to the state it had been right before it had shattered. He'd spent even more time recuperating, passing into the arms of the Aurae, the Dryads, the Pyrae, and the Kryoads, before finally passing into the arms of the Oreads, where he lingered today.

"It shouldn't be so odd," I told Loki, my brow furrowed. "I know you've done... well, a lot of really bad things, but before that... I mean, respect isn't—shouldn't be a difficult thing to come by."

"It shouldn't," Loki agreed, leaning back against the black stone column. "And perhaps I would have been satisfied with the weak amount I had, if I had not allowed myself to grow so bitter of what I did not have." He closed his eyes. "My nature is one that is neither forgiving nor kind, mortal. I am the god of Chaos in my realm, after all. My talent lies in falsehoods and trickery. Theirs lies in grudges and war."

"Because that's, like, your job!" I argued. "If there's anything I've learned, it's that the universe—or omniverse, or whatever—it works on balance. Nothing should be good, and nothing should be bad, everything should remain neutral. Balanced."

Loki shrugged. "Perhaps. But that does not excuse my actions, nor does it excuse theirs. I cannot bring back the lives I've taken, nor fix the lives I've destroyed, nor does it excuse their actions. Most of my own sorrows have been dealt by my own hand. Those that were not... I do not think I could ever forgive the wrongs done unto me."

"That may be true, but that doesn't mean that you don't deserve some happiness," I told him. "All right, so maybe you were very bad. I'll point out that for quite a part of that time, you were either insane or under the control of someone or something else. But anyways, don't you think that your regret counts for something? Don't you think that the fact that you would really give anything to take it all back and start over... mean you at least deserve the chance to prove yourself?"

"Even if I were, there is little I can do to regain such honor," he said honestly. "It has been many, many years since I last waged war against Miðgarðr or any of the Nine Realms—rather, I've traveled outside to places such as these. By now, peace will likely have fallen upon the Nine Realms—my return would cause only more chaos. I cannot improve upon a place that is already peaceful when my only talent is war. And besides," his tone turned bitter and angry, "they have wronged me greatly as well. You know this. "

"That's not your only talent, you know it, and you could at least do your family the courtesy of coming home," I countered. "Who says they don't miss you?"

"I tried to kill my own brother. Multiple times."

"He tried to kill you, too. Not that makes it okay, or anything, but still."

"I wreaked havoc on a planet full of defenseless people who did me no wrong."

"You were insane and under the control of that blue cube thingy for most of that time period."

"I destroyed the planet I lived on and killed many of people who lived there."

"You saved the Nine Realms by destroying the evil that threatened it and died because of it."

"After which I erased my reincarnated self—a child, I should add—stole his reputation and ruined it all by turning back to the dark side as I grew up once more."

"Like I said before, insane and controlled. And then you were... imprisoned... and they you left. It's been, like, seven thousand years. I think maybe it's time to go back."

"And what good would it do me?" Loki said in frustration. "You may be forgiving and kind—perhaps overly so, I think—but that certainly doesn't mean that a single soul of the Nine Realms would be so forgiving, and they certainly have no right to be! It's not forgiveness I deserve, and it is not forgiveness they deserve!"

"But—"

"They stole my own children from me, mortal!' His eyes blazed with fury and a very deep agony. "They chained my sons to the ground, set them as monsters! I was bound to the ground with my own sons' entrails to die! My children—" Loki's voice broke. "My children were innocent, and the people of Ásgarðr punished them for my deeds!"

"That's abominable." I blew out my lips. "I know they're certainly not perfect. That's an absolutely disgusting thing to do, just as a lot of what you did was horrible. But this grudge can't go on any longer. It's time you both sought peace. And you still want to go home." I crossed my arms. "Isn't that reason enough? How long has it been since you've seen your brother? Your father? How long since you saw your rebuilt planet or the people who live there? And really... if you think yourself beyond redemption... why wouldn't you put yourself in the hands of people who agree with you?"

"Well..."

"See, you have no counterargument," I teased him. "You don't want to go back because you're afraid of what waits for you, right?" I softened. "Look, I can't say what will really happen. It's possible your brother will welcome you back with open arms, and it's possible that he may have you locked up, tortured, drawn and quartered. I really don't know. So, here's my question for you: is it worth it? Is he worth it?"

"I don't know," he said finally, "but I hope it is."

We stood there in silence for some time before Loki spoke. "We will both be leaving this place soon. Our journeys must continue."

I thought of the quest we had ahead of us. Soon, I would be returning to the Road of Stars, restoring our guardian characters, our pasts, and our power once more. My friends would travel throughout the labyrinth together, searching for some way out. There was no telling what we would encounter—dangers, allies perhaps, it was mystic and unknown. Loki would travel throughout the galaxies, through universes and through space and time, to reach people he could only hope still loved him, to a brother he still loved more than life itself, who as likely as not harbored deep hatred towards him.

It had to be done.

Far, far away from an obsidian courtyard with a broken demigod and a girl with pink hair, a man with golden hair and a singing hammer of stars and thunder stood at the balcony of the highest tower of a great city, eyes turned skyward.