She could not help but admit: no one was going to help her. Nothing was going to move if she didn't. No progress would be made without a first step taken; no bird could fly without spreading its wings.

There was a voice playing in her head as she attempted to wheel herself over a large root for the second time—having failed once—and it egged her on. Her journey had been contingent upon the voice

The first time she turned back, having resisted the urge for thirty whole minutes, she felt the sinking of her heart to the very depths of her cage for the gate which she'd emerged from was still within sight. There was no one around except herself and for all Pipa knew, she could have been alone in the entire Box—awaiting an End that was close.

She pulled back her arms for the next meter or so, wheeling herself over undergrowth that had caught onto the spokes of her wheelchair time and again. Every push begged for double the strength of the one before and Pipa knew that she was pulling every weed out of the soil and crushing every dainty blossom in her path.

Her wheelchair, a contraption so unwieldy and demanding, fared horrendously in a terrain filled with obstacles. The conclusion was simple and within sight: she would not last. Pipa could feel the grains of sand, mixed with dirt and grime caked underneath her nails, cold and damp. Stopping to pick them out would waste another minute or so and only allow space for more of that to collect, again, under her nails.

Exactly how long she had been wheeling herself, the canary did not know. Her Avian perched on her shoulder, chirping every now and then to egg her on.

If only I could shift, or so Pipa thought as often as she breathed. There was no counting the number of times someone had to carry her while her wheelchair was being brought to the second floor; the number of times she blocked the path of others; the amount of space she took at a table.

The trouble; the trouble; the trouble that she was.

If only she hadn't volunteered to be part of the hunting season that very first time. If only she wasn't always helping others and being so stupidly insistent on being positive and happy. If only she hadn't been that cheerful, selfless bitch who knew nothing about the darkness of the world—

She caught herself.

The habit—it was surfacing again. Pipa shook her head in an attempt to clear the clouds that threatened to obscure her vision, returning to the task at hand. Her pulled back. Wheel. Pull back. Wheel. Back, wheel.

The thought of crawling crossed her mind. It seemed a whole lot faster compared to the rate that she was going.

Shivering in the darkness, she wheeled faster towards the light.

*

Dmitri was one who liked to talk.

He loved it; loved the ability to express his opinions, infatuated with the notion of freedom and acceptance—that were within his boundaries of course, or at least that was what he would have claimed—of being heard. It was very ironic of him. To like being heard but dislike the hearing of certain others.

He noticed a few weeks back that this trait of his was beginning to fade, panicking a little and experiencing what he called an 'existential crisis' (that really wasn't very critical at all, but still). Either way, Dmitri had always lived his life by a phrase that he found objectively true, 'do unto others as you would have them to unto you'.

It was an intriguing phrase to the twelve-year-old boy then, seemingly simply but with a pleasant and necessary depth. Surely, living by this phrase would be the best decision he'd ever made in his whole life. The prospect of repeating it during interviews when he'd made it big was tempting. It made him sound mature; demanded the respect of others.

But it was recently that Dmitri soon began to see the flaws of the golden rule in which he abided by. The very rule seemed assume that treating others how one wanted to be treated was appreciated by other people, and that treating others how one wanted to be treated would make someone a happier person in general—that treating others well would give way for reciprocity. Others returning the favour.

Abiding by his golden rule meant that Dmitri wouldn't speak, wouldn't interact, wouldn't help the people he didn't see necessary in his life. After all, he didn't require them to 'do unto him' what he did to them. What would be the benefit of treating them nicely when he would get nothing in return?

This one. I'd like this one to do unto me as I do unto them. The golden rule had always required him to sort people into categories and determine their worth. After all, it was impossible to continue giving others one's all when he or she gets nothing in return. Knowing the latter (that he would get nothing in return) excused him from the effort of kindness and generosity.

And so the falcon found himself a little confused—having stepped out of his comfort zone—when he dived from his soar and swooped low, skirting the canopies before targeting where he should land in front of Pipa.

His entrance was noisy and uncouth, very much unlike how every other Heart was trained to land. Dmitri could not bring himself to really care about how he looked when it came to people he didn't need to impress.

Pipa had stopped every movement of hers and hurriedly unclasped her choker to hand the falcon her charm. She'd thrown it haphazardly, but Dmitri caught it with a stretch of his arm and gazed at it with a hint of a laugh.

He shifted, approaching her. She identified him as her brother's predator almost at once, wondering just how he managed (or even planned) to find her, if this was the right or wrong turn of fate. She also wondered if he knew Iolani Tori.

It was hard to look when Dmitri was only a step away. Pipa couldn't conceive what he was about to do next—if he was going to leave her here, having robbed her Mark and lost her worth.

He didn't.

Instead, he grabbed her hand and forced it to open, placing in the heart of her palm her very own choker before taking the handles of her wheelchair.

You know Dmitri,

Sometimes it's despite knowing that they'd never treat you the way you want to be treated

And continuing to give them your very best

That makes one the strongest of them all.

He laughed out loud, unable to believe that Iolani Tori was in his head at every point in time.

________________________

The moment Reux was out of his sight, Vaughn found that he could finally breathe. The vulture had been swimming in the darkness with the absence of a light, searching for the surface. Leaving the shrike behind was the only way he wouldn't drown in an abyss that the former had conjured. The very air he breathed was toxic.

It wasn't foul, no—for the waters were free of garbage and waste and did not exhibit any form of repulsive features. His waters were dark. Darker than ink.

Vaughn shook the image out of his head, gaining altitude to wash the ink and clear his mind.

Any slight alteration of his form at present would have had him lurching in the air, considering the speed that he was flying at. There was an urgent ticking at the back of his mind, almost as though he'd just discovered a bomb in the midst of a crowd and was the only one with the burden of that knowledge. To defuse it, he would have to seek the help of a professional. Someone preferably objective.

Viktor was the first to surface in his thoughts. How can he tell him? Speaking aloud would not attract any attention from the officials unless he was prey. Perhaps finding one of them and making them say a word—no. Would that make him no different from Reux? Sacrificing one for the benefit of himself?

No, he wasn't doing this for himself. It was for the rest of the predators in the Box; a preventive measure of warning that was necessary and important. Sacrificing a single prey to do so would be the most efficient choice to make.

Utilitarianism. Consequentialism. These were the names of concepts that he'd learnt in class, seated in front of a board, staring into space. There were the names of concepts that he'd never regarded as realistic enough to appear within the moral world of his own—ambiguous; dull; ugly.

Iolani Tori had been right. There never really was something wrong about 'taking things seriously'. One could never be too serious; after all, there was no knowing what the future would hold.

A sparse movement caught his eye, along with the familiar scent of something sweet. The vulture banked right, dropping in altitude whilst keeping an eye on the movement far below. He sought the scent, diving past an opening in the canopies and observing from a distance.

Crank. Whoever it was, they were loud and slow. Vaughn had overestimated their point of contact, having assumed that they would arrive at where he was in a matter of minutes. For the ears of a vulture to hear the movement of another (and from quite a distance away), the latter would have had to be stomping at the very least.

The crinkle of dried leaves and the cracking of branches under the pressure—what was approaching did not seem to possess human feet.

Intrigued (and admittedly, a little afraid), the vulture shifted and began to walk towards what was coming. A couple of steps in and having sent Nox ahead however, he soon found out who they were. It caught him by surprise.

"Ford? You're..." the vulture left his sentence open, unable to find the words to complete what he was trying to convey. He breathed hard, having flown faster than usual, gaze resting on Pipa who looked partly in awe and mostly anxious. "Why aren't you with the rest?"

Woah woah woaaah, came the falcon in his head, gesturing for the other to lower his volume. Wait, you just speak like that? I mean yeah sure they're probably closing every other eye when it comes to us but like, y'know. Not nice man.

Vaughn sighed, turning away. You can do it anyway. No one's going to care.

"Okay, fine, but why d'you—" he let slip before surprising himself and clamping his mouth shut. Pipa craned her neck up to look at him weirdly. Dmitri couldn't figure out if she was shocked or amused. No offense? But you look like you've seen a ghost.

It did not cross the vulture's mind to correct him.

"Unfortunately, you're not too far off," he admitted quietly. "Something's gone terribly wrong and I need you to..."

He paused.

It was only then that he registered: Dmitri was unable to part from where he was. Pipa glanced between them, frightened that both were breaking the rules so blatantly before her eyes. She didn't dare speak.

"What's going on?" Dmitri slipped a laugh to lighten the heavy mood. "Can't be that bad. Iolani can't be in trouble—I mean, weren't Sullivan and Castor on his trail?" He frowned, not knowing if he should be taking the vulture's words for granted; whether it was merely part of the collection of masks that he had stowed away in his cage.

"Sullivan...?" No. No, he was too late! It had already begun. The bait that Reux had referred to had served its purpose and Vaughn was only beginning to understand what the former meant by 'who else'. "Did Sullivan go after Castor?"

Dmitri nodded briefly, a rising discomfort in his chest at the lack of details. "Yeah. I don't know why you're so worked up about that, but if you'll excuse us...'cuz apparently you belong to the other team and who knows what you're up to now, trying to slow me down." He continued down the path, manoeuvring Pipa's wheelchair past the other who was in his way.

"Will you just listen to what I have to say?" Vaughn turned around with a snap, grabbing the falcon's arm on impulse. The latter jerked it out of his grasp, startled.

"What the hell?" He was close to shouting. "Calm down man. I didn't lay a finger on you! What's your problem?"

More often than so, it was telling the truth and conveying his emotions that stunted Evaughn Alekseyev the most. Moments like these were the bane of his existence—a needle through his heart. "I...I apologize. You have my word, this has nothing to do with my past antics. I know this is rather hard to believe and perhaps near impossible for you to trust the words of a liar but nevertheless, I'd appreciate it if you'd just...just listen to what I have to say."

The sound of a cricket.

Pipa had never seen a human look like Vaughn did at present. There was a very delicate emotion in his eyes; a spark of fear and desperation so raw that she could smell its scent.

Dmitri sighed. "You're a very good actor—"

"No! No, this is not an act—"

"Io would have believed him," whispered Pipa all of a sudden, and the pair turned on her. Shocked and in awe. "Io...would have listened to what he has to say."

In the distance, a cry of warning sounded in the air. An official was approaching.

"What! You just..." Dmitri couldn't understand how Pipa had the guts to break the rule of silence in a matter of seconds, just to persuade him to listen to what he thought were a bunch of lies. "Whatever the fuck is going on, you better make it worth my time."

She got him to listen. The canary actually did, Vaughn stared blankly at the canary before brushing his thoughts aside and cutting to the chase.

"Slayne Castor is dead—"

"What?"

"—it was the shrike's doing. I know this isn't the easiest thing in the world to conceive but I'm sure it's part of a bigger plan. Reux isn't really from the Order, not with such twisted ideals, no. He's killed predators before and having heard what he had to say about it, I'm inclined to believe that Castor would not be the last," breathed the vulture.

His heart was loaded and heavy; spilling the clouds within felt better than ever.

"You're saying...what—you're...you're kidding, right?" Dmitri had something stuck in his throat. "You've got to be kidding. He can't, I mean, he can't be dead."

"I'm not," Vaughn shook his head, breathless. "I wish I was. Skies I wish I was but this isn't the time to dwell on Castor's death because Reux isn't about to stop and I have a feeling that—"

"—Luka is next," Pipa finished with a slow shake of her head, eyes wide and disconcerted. Her first thought went to the nightingale she'd met only hours ago and all of a sudden, the world seemed heavier than she thought it was.

The vulture wanted to seal her mouth shut. "Stop speaking. You'd only get punished for this, don't you understand? You'd suffer more with every word, so please. No more. Let me speak to the official when they arrive."

Dmitri wasn't taking this very well. "What...what are you going to say? Do you know where he is now? The shrike."

No, he didn't. Vaughn had left him far behind and the thought of tracking him did not cross his clouded and weary mind, marred by the image of crimson soil and protruding flesh. "No...no I don't."

"I swear, this fucking shit is out of his mind," said the falcon under his breath, face in his hands. "What the fuck? What the fuck, man. How did he die? What the...he's dead? Like, there was blood? Are you sure—"

"His jugular vein was slit," recalled the witness, feeling slightly light-headed once again.

"The...the blood.

It was like a fountain."

_________________________

At a glance, the girl thought that it was herself she saw.

A body in the middle of the forest, alone.

Crimson soil and patches of dried blood on the surface of the undergrowth.

How did she die? After all the attempts she had made at the End, it was a palace forbidden only to her and one that she'd long for its gate to open. Sol did not allow her to die; at least not until what was written long before had finally arrived at its very last word. Rebirth was the bane of her existence and yet, it was the only basis of it.

But that was before she realized that it wasn't snowing. She couldn't have died here, in a place so rich with nature and thriving with life. Jing would have died somewhere forgotten.

A snowy village in a barren land.

She checked her feet before she looked again. If this body wasn't her, then the girl could not have just been dreaming. She'd be at her Vantage.

It had been a while since she last came here: the highest point in the sky that oversaw the workings of human beings and the ticking of their minds. Something had called for the attention of the sun, her gaze. There was a scream coming from the body. A strangled release of frustration that burned in regret; melted in fury.

She dived into the entity and replayed what was stored within. It took longer than usual—it must have been her lack of practice. That, or this person was dead. But the phoenix had long been desensitized towards death, ironically, by Death itself.

Vaughn.

Close.

Reux.

Close.

A nightingale under a tree.

Close.

Grass in the wind.

Close

A paper crane.

Close.

Window.

Close.

She bolted out of the pain that seared through her neck, reaching up to scratch and tear away at the rope that was taking her breath away when she stopped and stared. That wasn't her. She would never have done that—who was it?

The phoenix turned to check the body again, but it was not there. It was gone.

She searched, but it had vanished; disappeared from her sight and in every corner of her Vantage. It was no longer there and her only chance of finding out who he was was to search for it in the one who appeared before his end.

Reux Yvone

She dived into his sea and was instantly engulfed in darkness—even the surface of the water was absent. The girl was swallowed whole by something she never thought would exist in the minds of other people. Ink.

She was prevented from seeing by its darkness and this did not seem to fit into the Order of the world. The phoenix had access to every diurnal's record and replaying something as simple as a memory was never met by such strong resistance.

Pulling away, she returned to the sky and searched for Vaughn. It had turned a shade darker; perhaps a little redder than before, imminent with clouds that were thick and heavy. All this while, the scream from the body shook the earth and cracked open the forest.

It had called her with its anguish and regret, in a cry so grieved.

It was love

It was love

IT WAS LOVE

_______________________________

She bolted upright, breathing her first.

Her head pounded in the light and the silhouette of two came into sight. One on each side probed into her field of vision, shielding half of what was beginning to blind.

"哇哇哇," someone sounded awfully surprised. "她醒了!"

"发什么呆、还不快叫医生?" The figure on her left snapped to the one on her right. Jing couldn't see the need for the medical attention that he'd told the other to call for. She wasn't even dying.

"哎, 你去你去你去! 我死都不会说一句please help me!"

"哈?!诶我说你啊, 真没救了."

The phoenix rubbed her eyes and squinted at the pair who were bickering over who should call for a nurse. It was making her headache a lot worse than it already was.

"干死你都不叫?"

"你你你、谁干谁啊!"

She sighed, reaching up to grab both their collars before pulling them down, closer to her level so that she could speak.

"要干就开放干、别在我面前眉来眼去了," the phoenix snapped quietly, unable to raise her voice. Her head spun and she released the two so that she could lie down.

Cai Teng and Zijun exchanged a look before appearing to repent. The former cleared his throat and apologized. "You fainted and we didn't know what to do. The council brought you here and some nurse said you were dehydrated...are you alright?"

Jing frowned and reached for a glass of water by the bed. Zijun quickly handed it to her, as though it would make up for his earlier embarrassment.

"I'm not," she learnt how to say. "And I doubt that was dehydration. Someone was calling for me to see and—I...I don't know who he is but he's..."

They waited. Her eyes were still and it was frightening to recall the way he screamed, as though he wanted to be heard beyond the skies that trapped him within.

"He's dead. In the Box. Someone's dead and it's a predator," she was starting to connect the dots and the picture came together in her head, once obscure. Now, clear.

Jing turned to the pair. "When we were investigating the sparrow who attacked Io. There was another predator who died, the sea eagle."

"Yes," Cai Teng rose from his seat on her right, all ears. "And a Nocturne, two weeks ago. Viktor left it to us as well but its confidential and—" He got her drift.

It wasn't very far from what Zijun suggested to him a while back, when they first met to investigate the sea eagle's death. There's a rat.

She sighed.

"Then it's true. Predators are the target and the killer is here," her first thought went straight to Io, trapped in the Box. Her excuse from participation now seemed like a blessing in disguise. "We've already lost one. We have to warn the council or more lives will..."

Zijun had been pretending not to understand what they were saying. Not until he finally realized the weight of it all and rose abruptly from his seat. "我去。你留下护着她, 好了才来找我。"

He headed for the door and was gone.

A heavy air settled between the phoenix and her companion, weighing on their shoulders as the prospect of stopping something akin to mass murder brushed the bars of their cages. Imminent.

"Do you think its just one?" Jing asked after a minute of silence, an obvious streak of emotion in her voice—one that she no longer bothered hiding in front of others. "How many of them are doing the killing?"

Cai shook his head. "We know there's a sparrow involved. That's all we know." He wanted to ask if emergencies like these allowed for permission to invade the privacies of others. The phoenix could look into every single head, observe every act, every sign—

"I never wanted to. Lives never mattered to me," she admitted quietly, looking down at her hands. "And even if they did, my involvement would only result in the destruction of...of everything." Jing said this as though she was a surgeon evaluating the insides of a patient.

"It's too soon for me to bear the burden of knowledge," she concluded at last. "I do not have the kind of light that Io has."

"How do you know that it is a burden?" Cai frowned. He was one of the rare, sharp ones that Jing found difficulty speaking to. Ironically however, it was these kinds of people who tended to hear the words that she'd left unspoken. "You're hiding something."

She swallowed, recalling the darkness that she had witnessed in the depths of a shrike.

"Cai, have you...heard of Hunters?"

________________________

Who are you?

That sort of question, Io laughed sadly, staring at his feet. It's begging for the sort of answer that you will not like. You know, the rhetoric. Sometimes I can't resist it at all—the urge to see everything differently, to take everything far too seriously. Or so some people would say.

I'm wondering which answer you'd prefer. Superficially speaking, I'm the moon phoenix. And a tree sparrow, of course. Supposedly, that is the answer you're looking for? But is anyone ever satisfied with that answer, I wonder. You were confused about something else...about my strangeness. The oddity that I am.

I am very odd. If only I weren't. If only I'd taken the easier path, the path that was paved, and not wandered so far into the woods, onto the road less travelled. Why did I choose that which was hard? What I experience now, I deserve IT AND IT WAS BECAUSE OF ME. It is. It really is because of me. It really is.

The raven did not know if his anguish called for comfort or silence. Her face was wrought with discomfort from the listening of such thoughts. She hadn't been asking for much, really; having expected him to respond with only his name for he was driving her mad with his strangeness.

Calm down, you're not making any sense. You're so weird, oh god. Are you mentally sane? I mean, this isn't meant to comfort you or anything, but who'd be in the right mind to say that every bad thing that happened to them is what they deserve? I-if anything, you don't deserve this treatment at all!

Io laughed. That is very kind of you. It almost seemed as though you weren't holding me hostage right here, he said with a hint of mischief. But you are right. Every sane person would have asked 'why me?' and perhaps that goes to show how insane I must be.

He turned to her.

What's your name? I'm Iolani Tori, but you can call me Io.

The raven frowned at the sudden question, unsure whether Reux would have allowed for such entertainment of his thoughts. I don't think I can tell you that. For convenience sake, Raven...is okay.

Raven, he shifted his body to face hers, holding his knees and rocking himself back and forth. Do you know what a tragedy is?

Please don't go on about Romeo and Juliet, she responded in turn, shaking her head with a sigh. That kind of love story...how unrealistic.

I don't know what Romeo and Juliet is, Raven, said the moon phoenix with a smile darker than usual. Is that a movie? A legend? Will you tell me more about that next time? I'd love to hear it. A story. I hope it's long—I like long stories.

But I wonder if it's the same kind of tragedy that I'm thinking about, he went on, because I've understood that the experiencing of unfortunate events by innocent people can make for a good tragic story. I don't know. That's not the kind of tragedy that I can relate to. Understanding and relating to is something different, you know?

She nodded slowly, then shook her head with a frown. Er, what?

My mom used to tell me stories of these innocent people who experienced unfortunate things. They were very nice, simple stories. The heroes were cool. They were very cool, and very strong—they overcome every obstacle, take down the villain, rise up to the occasion and put an end to their personal tragedies.

You're one too, Raven scoffed quietly, but Io accepted the kind remark.

That's nice of you...

He reached out to hug her. It was fairly surprising. But I'd make the worst kind of hero.

You will never hear of a story about a boy who could never end his tragedies—he could never end them because ending them meant not being himself. And every other story claims that being one's self is the solution to all problems but in the case of the boy, being himself is the very reason he will never be happy, never be able to end his tragedy.

But it is precisely because being happy isn't the goal; precisely because pain and grief is just as important as happiness itself that he will continue to be who he is...

and hence carry on with his tragedy.

Iolani Tori stood up, stretching his arms as he did so. Do you like never-ending tragedies? I know I don't.

But I guess I'll accept it anyway.

He waved, tired. Thanks for listening to me. I hope Reux finds out that you love him soon, otherwise you might have your very own tragedy, Io laughed. It should be quite the ending if one were never able to tell the other what they truly felt before the end.

He turned to exit the tent but she grabbed his arm and dug her nails into his skin. "You can't leave. They'd kill you if you—"

The night breathed its last, fluttering the loose flap of their tent. And while it did, a very strange light—almost kindred—was visible beyond. Raven thought she saw the moon.

Do you see me now?

He shifted, disappearing,

carried by the wind and the night

Taking to the skies, light.

_______________________________

A/N: Hey guys! Apologies for the slightly late update (its a couple of hours later than usual ><) Cuppie's currently on a school trip in Vietnam, so. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! The next one is going to be even more exciting, so fasten your seat belts!! Some turbulence is due :) 

-Cuppie. 

EHUEHUEHUE DO I HAVE VIETNAMESE READERS?