"Hey! Both of you, zip it!" The war demon's words didn't tiptoe—they crashed through the air like a wrecking ball in a porcelain shop. The kind of voice that doesn't just hush a room, it sucker punches it. Yura and Ofori? Silenced so quick, you'd think someone hit the mute button on reality.
Yura's mouth twitched, fighting that traitorous laugh. It just made everything more electric, honestly. Ofori, sitting across like he owned the place, leaned back—smirk locked in like it was tattooed there. Always the instigator, that one.
The war demon's eyes narrowed, razor thin. "Yura, enlighten me—what's so funny about Ezekiel's story? And don't feed me the easy stuff."
"Oh, brilliant," Ezekiel threw in, eyes spitting sparks. "Delighted to be the group jester."
Yura just shrugged, half-grin flickering on her lips. "Look, we all know the Captain's a legend. And Francisca? Please. Unless someone's got a magic trick up their sleeve, there's nothing to freak out about."
Ofori leaned in, eyes gleaming—trouble written all over him. "So, Yura, what should we do with you?"
Instant frost. Yura's stare could've turned him to stone. "Meaning what, exactly?"
His grin only widened—wolfish, taunting. "You really don't see it?"
Red crept up Yura's neck, not from embarrassment—more like she wanted to bite his head off. She hated this game. "Then say it, Ofori. Use your words."
And then—dead air. Nobody looked at her. One person suddenly found the grain of the table fascinating, another bit their lip like it might save them. The silence was suffocating, meaner than any insult.
Yura's jaw locked, voice quavering. "Why are you looking at me like that? You think I'm clueless?"
Ezekiel's fist hit the table—BOOM. Everyone jumped like the room had been struck by lightning. His eyes were wild. "Yura, enough! You think you're sharp, but your ego's about to get us all killed. This isn't banter—it's blood and steel. Even legends crack. Even giants bleed."
Crack—her composure shattered.
"Oh, that's just perfect!" Yura barked, voice raw, teetering between fury and heartbreak. Her fists balled up, knuckles pale as moonlight. "We vanish for centuries, and this is my homecoming? Not a hug, not a smile—just daggers and doubt. You treat me like I'm the kid still learning to hold a blade." Her voice caught, stumbling. "This was supposed to be a reunion, not target practice."
"Yura, enough—" General Aura started, voice ironclad.
Yura spun, eyes glassy with unshed tears. "Really, Lu Fan? You too? Piling on with the rest? Maybe I am blind."
Her voice finally snapped, all the armor gone. "Fine. If caring about the Captain and Francisca makes me an idiot, then I'm the world's biggest fool. Maybe I don't fit into your glorious plans."
Chair screeched back—ugly, final. Yura stormed out, boots pounding like war drums. Nobody dared stop her. Nobody even twitched.
The silence left behind wasn't just heavy—it was a storm waiting to break.
Ofori finally let out this breath, deep and ragged, like he'd been holding it in since forever—like he was carrying secrets that had gotten way too heavy. He rubbed at his neck, looking all kinds of tired, and when he spoke, his words barely made it past his lips. There was this raw edge in his voice, something the others hardly ever caught. "Ezekiel… will you go after her? Please. She deserves the truth. I just—can't say it. Not right now. She might end up hating me for it, but… she should know."
You could hear the sighs and see the head-shakes all around—his friends didn't have much to offer except sympathy, and honestly, that's about all he could lean on.
Ezekiel shot him a look, eyebrow shooting up, suspicion all over his face. "Are you sure about this? You realize this could totally change how she sees you, right?"
Ofori tried for a crooked smile, but man, his eyes gave him away. "I dunno, I kinda think she'll come back. Yura always does. And then we'll be back to the usual—fighting, bickering, making up. That's what we do."
Ezekiel barked a laugh, low and soft. "If you say so. Honestly, you'd probably be better at fixing this. Aren't you the 'relationship expert' here?"
Ofori's ears went red, the whole 'cool and collected' act falling apart. "Shut up, Ezekiel. You know damn well why I can't." His voice basically disappeared by the end.
Ezekiel's grin just got bigger, all teasing. "Wow, look at that. The big, wise counselor—guy who helps everyone else with their drama—can't handle his own love life."
Ofori's eyes went wide, full-on mock indignation. "Oh, you're dead."
"Niko!" he snapped, like he was calling down thunder.
Ezekiel made a break for it, laughing so hard he nearly tripped, while the rest tried (and failed) to keep straight faces.
Caught in the crossfire, poor Niko just froze—blue hair glinting under the enchanted lights, looking like he'd rather vanish into thin air. His robe, covered in weird glowy runes, kind of pulsed brighter like even his outfit was panicking.
"Don't drag me into this!" Niko squeaked, voice shooting up a whole octave. "You know how psycho your brother gets about your safety? He'd murder me if I kept my mouth shut—I'd be toast!"
Ofori started cracking his knuckles, a wicked grin spreading. The others just whistled and stared at anything but the drama about to go down.
Niko went even paler, if that was possible. "Hey, hey, I'm the only seer you've got! Guys, let's not do anything crazy, okay? I'm the one who found you all in the first place! If I hadn't used my magic, your brother would've hunted me down!" His words tripped over each other in a panic. "Seriously, you're not just gonna let him pummel me, right?"
Nobody said a word. The realization hit Niko all at once—yeah, he'd really blown it this time.
....
Ezekiel finally caught up with Yura outside—she was tearing through the corridor like she had a personal vendetta against every tile on the floor. "Hey, Yura! Hold up, will ya?" he huffed, half-chasing, half-laughing.
She spun, eyes blazing, looking like she might just set him on fire with sheer willpower. "What now, Ezekiel? You wanna take a number and yell at me too?"
He didn't bother answering right away. Instead, he shuffled closer, acting like he was about to keel over from exhaustion. Then, with a flick of his foot, the ground rolled up around them, sealing them off in this earthy cocoon. "Terra Firma," he said, and honestly, it looked kinda magical.
Now it was just them, wrapped in a warm, brownish glow. No outside noise, no prying eyes. Ezekiel's usual smirk faded, replaced by something softer. "Why am I here? I'll tell you—this is our bubble, kid. No one else gets in."
Something cracked in Yura's armor. Her lips did this shaky half-smile thing. "You've always felt like a dad to me, you know," she whispered, which sounded weird since they were nearly the same age, but hey, life's funny like that.
Ezekiel's face gentled. "And I got you, Yura. Always. And it's not just me. Niko—dude's basically blind from staring at those star maps, all for you. Miguel? Guy's a wall, literally took a sword for you. Lu Fan? Handed you his sword when yours slipped. Then there's Young-woo, Arthur, Captain, Francisca, even Ofori, the grumpiest of them all. We're more than a squad. We're a found family, you and me and all of us."
Yura's voice got all thin and watery. "Yeah, I know. I'd do the same for you. It's just, since they left, it's like I'm missing a limb. Can't go five minutes without feeling it. I miss them so damn much."
For a second, Ezekiel's smile faltered. You could almost see the ghosts flicker in his eyes, old heartbreaks he didn't talk about. But he pulled it together fast. "You think you're the only one limping? Hell no. We're all carrying the same pain, just hiding it better some days. You're not alone in this mess."
Yura's anger slipped away, replaced by this wide-eyed realization. Like she'd just unlocked a hidden level in her own heart. "All this time… I was blind."
Ezekiel grinned, a little crooked. "Remember when Ofori went full drama king, yelling you were his only rival? Guy had no chill."
Yura actually laughed—like, really laughed. "Oh gods, yes. He ruined Young-woo's spell and nearly got us all fried. So, naturally, we kicked his butt. He limped for a week and still wouldn't shut up about it."
Ezekiel shot her a look, mischief practically leaking out of his grin. "Still cracks me up, you know. You, glued to his bedside, fussing over bandages and soup and all that healing mumbo-jumbo. Didn't peg you for the nurturing type, but hey, surprises everywhere, right?"
Yura's cheeks went up in flames. She tried to keep her voice steady, but honestly, it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave with a mop. "What's your game, Ezekiel?"
He just kept grinning like he'd won three lotteries. "You remember your last breakthrough? You went nuclear on Ofori 'cause he hit his a week after you—started accusing him of peacocking, all that jazz. Ring a bell?"
She frowned, defensive. "Yeah, because I thought—hang on. What do you mean by 'I thought'?"
Ezekiel leaned in, all sly and dramatic, dropping his voice like he was about to spill state secrets. "Here's the real twist: Ofori? He was set to break through the day before you. But Francisca and Niko did their mystical tea-leaf thing and saw yours coming next. So we had this choice—split up, guide you both, or stick together for the ride. The Captain? Offered to push his own breakthrough on pause for the squad."
He let that hang for effect, eyes glinting. "Ofori agreed. He just… waited. Literally standing at the edge of glory, could've sprinted ahead, dropped the mic, stolen your thunder. But nope. He held back. For you. So you wouldn't feel like a shadow. Didn't even whimper about it."
Yura went ghost-pale, mouth working silently for a second. "No freaking way. You're telling me that Ofori—Ofori—put his own breakthrough on ice? For me?" Her voice cracked, flopping between outrage and awe. "All we do is try to outdo each other! He's either lost his mind or… what, you think I've missed other stuff too?"
Ezekiel just crossed his arms, looking like a long-suffering professor dealing with a class clown. "Did I say that? Nah. But, girl, if you've been walking around with your eyes glued shut this whole time—maybe, just maybe, you should start actually paying attention."