How strange it was, to have a final thought. It never occurred to Io that it would have been so vague and indecisive—ultimately, it was yet another question. One that he could not answer.

It served to disappoint him, really, that his mind would always come up with questions and never, never ever answers. Not even in its final product.

There was a lightening of a load and this, Io assumed, was the taking of his breath and freeing of the soul. From where had he heard that the body was a prison? He had long forgotten. Perhaps there was nothing to be remembered in the first place; not at a point of—

Enough.

Was it natural for one to hear things in the afterlife? Io soon realized it to be a stupid question that deserved no answer. He had begun to develop a coming awareness of his senses. Something he had lost moments ago—surely, his sense of time warped and disordered; no less unreliable than the rest of his intuitions.

His eyes opened with a blind surge of light that chased darkness by its tail, returning the sparrow to the nightmare he so wished would end. He barely registered the cool surface of his charm against skin when violent gasps for air ensued as though having been submerged underwater for the longest time.

Io's heart pounded wildly against its cage, perhaps wondering how it would beat again still for it was sure the previous time had been its last.

He sat up, taking in the girl before him and the other beside, on the ground, sobbing quietly into her knees that were drawn up to her chest. Dazed eyes searched for remaining life and he found Shel and Rien a distance away. There was someone else behind—who had it been?

There was the clear sound of something being undone; the unclasping of his choker. The phoenix had little life in her eyes as she did so gently, taking the charm as her own before straightening up from the forest ground Io sat upon.

The latter turned to face the bluejay who stood a second from being his murderer and felt the disappointment of betrayal seep into the deepest part of his cage.

Hatred was hard to dispel and like Love, it was here to stay.

Io thought how he would have, regardless of the bluejay's interference, given up his victory to someone else, anyone else. There was no importance in a victory and this, in comparison, seemed not a matter of the slightest. How could someone else wish so strongly to decide his own fate? To take his life; would he choose to help someone like that?

For it had been his plan all along: to take the Marks—unharmed and unhunted, with their charms intact—to the exit.

There was no benevolence in the act. No bravery; no kindness; no virtue; no strength; no light but also no dark—for the method was in the dream.

The dream was to become real;

His dream. Pipa's dream. The butterfly, the nightingale, the raven, the crow and perhaps even the eagle—

Did the bluejay, in theory, betray his care?

But did she know he cared? Perhaps it was simply because she didn't. There was no form of instant communication in the Box and everything seemed so rightfully wrong. Io heard her sobbing on his left and it appeared to be further than before. Maybe he was getting detached from reality after all and there was no saving from the darkness for it had had his heart.

Why should he care for others when they did not care for him?

The phoenix extended her hand.

It took him all his effort to realize that this was what her gesture meant, and in a daze, Io accepted it blindly. Jing brought him to his feet with what seemed to him to be an effortless tug, leveling their gaze to speak to the one inside.

It has been long since I've seen fools like you. There was no accent in her mind, only a tone so clear and apt that Io would have thought to be from the stars. Or if not, heaven-sent.

Jing's gaze lowered to her palm, in which something burned in the heart of.

If humans had a soul; a spirit or so, this was how Io would have imagined it to be. The flicker of a flame—a slow burning of thoughts and emotions, collected in the essence of a sphere that fit in the palm, the size of a heart.

This is Sol. She held out the sphere with an orange glow, as though presenting it to the sparrow. Driven on instinct by the curious mind, Io reached out to touch it.

Sol emerged from her spirit into a burst of flames that spanned wide—above the pair in its burning magnificence and across the skies that now seemed as though it had two suns—spreading his wings with a call that was, indeed, worthy of a phoenix's. There was a tremor in the hearts of others around including the harpy's, in careful admiration or pleasant fear none of them knew but watched only, as the predator in the sky reigned the vast invisible thing like a land of its own.

Io stared wide-eyed at the girl before him, as if seeing her for the first time.

Can they not see it? The magpie and kiwi were searching for the source of the call so empowering, eyes scanning the sky in front, behind, around them.

Only you can see my Avian. He will guide you during the day, she said to him in his mind for the phoenix—the sun—ruled over diurnals.

Was she really?

To guide, to show him the way, was she really? Io couldn't bring himself to trust a dazed mind like his no less his eyes that had yet to adjust from the darkness it had seen before. Jing turned on her heel and began to leave in a manner so plain and ordinary that one would doubt the phoenix in the sky to be hers.

It was a mere thought, then; that Io seemed to remind her of how she was in the past and it was the past that she had left behind and wished to forget. So then, why would she?

But when night falls, sparrow,

You're on your own.

The girl paused to turn, before leaving her heart behind.

____________________________

Close enough, Lucienne thought with a sigh as green swept by in a passing blur—leaving the landscape below rather distorted in her wake. She searched the horizon for walls and found that she could, just barely, spot the grey to her east. I had it in my palm.

Had what? Came an oddly curious voice in her mind and Lucienne, startled for a moment, had to regain her balance in the air.

Dmitri. Why are you here?

Luci, your guard's down. I can't help it, the falcon humored himself with a laugh. So? Why the French? I know a curse when I hear one.

Tais-toi, Dimitri. Goodbye.

Oh come on Lu—

She focused and heard him no more. Lucienne valued most a peace and quiet that came with order and this was, of course, absent in the Box. She wanted this over and done with. Now, where was that girl who she hunted the last time...

Further down by the lake, north-east.

This was the first time Lucienne felt her mind violated by one another and she swore that this was going to be the last. Do men not understand what was meant by privacy?

Luka. Leave now, she warned. There is no reason for me to trust an ally of the weak.

I do not care who you trust. The eagle put forth rather bluntly, without expression.

Lucienne banked right towards one of the two lakes in the Box, a familiar territory that she unfortunately could not call her own. I am not surprised, she snapped rather impatiently. Just whose side are you on?

Luka found this question fairly simple; and it was then that he realized how much he missed the ones that Io posed. He should end this soon. Their nights at the treehouse awaited, and he felt the creature in his cage quicken with a beat of its wings as he found his answer without delay—

The side of humanity.

And it made the harpy laugh just so. Noble. Noble and naïve, Luka. You have been taken in by that silly sparrow. See the fool you have become.

Birds of a feather flock together, Victoria replied simply and it was even in this that Lucienne could not bring herself to believe what she was hearing. Fools admitting that they were.

Then go to your hell, eagle. Lucienne laughed alone as she thought herself getting rather...foolish as well. The sparrow is at the clearing south-east with some others. Jane has his—

She no longer felt his presence.

You see Dimitri? How fast he flies towards his hell.

The falcon laughed.

*

The Box shook with a hush so dark that the wind could not help but whisper of a disease rank and corrupt. It was full—full of vice. There was not a heart that beat for life but only for the fear of death and its unknown hand, waiting and hoping for some sort of sign. This described the bluejay completely; and the shiver of her heart she thought was strong.

They had followed—the magpie and the bluejay and the kiwi had—the sparrow in the light of his loss.

There was a certain safety that the absence of the Joker's charm brought along; and though Io's victory was taken, the irony was in the indifference of defeat. Despite the looks of concern that Rien had thrown consistently at Io, in the form of sideway glances, she received no confirmation of his disappointment.

These were no eyes of one who had almost been killed by a comrade.

And indeed, Io would have agreed. For he, too, found his quiet heart a curious thing and wondered just how it turned not to fire or ice. Any ordinary heart would have burned in flames only to be left in ruins; or frozen over encased in ice to be forgotten—forever.

It was a wonder what he had turned into—or rather, how he, so strangely, had remained.

None of the four looked amongst themselves; far too afraid to see the fear within them reflected in another's eyes. Nevertheless, having the phoenix as a guide made things a lot easier; and there was at least something that filled the gap in their minds—direction. How long they have locked their hearts in silence was to be a mystery but there came a point of fortunate connection. One which demanded something more than silence and less than words.

Io had heard it first and was quick to pause, listening for more. The kiwi did too, upon noticing this, and reached out to stop the bluejay who moved onwards regardless. The latter clicked her tongue peevishly but stopped as well; and it was only at this that the magpie, too distracted to notice, returned to present time.

A cry.

It was a distance away, much like a desperate call that could only belong to a prey for Io thought—or at least, at present moment assumed—that no such despair could possibly belong to a predator. There was little deliberation in the following actions and if Io recalled this moment in hindsight, he would have seen how truly foolish he was for having only one silly sentiment in his heart and nothing in his mind;

That the victim could have been someone like Pipa, closing her eyes in a place so foreign—alone.

No, he would not allow himself to make the same mistake again and no—no, there must not be any more suffering. If he could save one more; just one more.

Rien couldn't stop him. She tailed the sparrow in panic, the various horrors ahead already starting to plague her mind. The warning signs were clear—there was a predator ahead and yet, why? Could he simply not...care?

The bluejay was, once again, furious. Io was hurling them into the jaws of a predator again! Just when he had lost his charm! Was it not enough for him to have the title of a Joker? Why look for trouble? Why invite danger?

Leave her! She ended up mouthing with a hiss as she sprinted forth to grab Io's arm. He slipped out of her grasp easily and shook his head. Adamant.

There was little understanding in Io's decisions for none of the three of his companions could relate to his logic or values. Or rather, lack of logic that was to be compensated by, and only by, his values.

If it was in his power to prevent suffering, then surely, he must do his best to prevent it.

Shel followed blindly and Rien hurried to catch up, leaving the bluejay behind panting furiously, fists clenched and teeth grinding. At the back of his mind, Lyra was generous with her warnings.

In a moment, the cry had led them to a clearing ahead where, the three crouched low hiding amongst the thick undergrowth and cover of the trees, could see what was happening.

A girl emerged from the shadows across the clearing, panting heavily but refusing to stop. Io realized that if she were to continue in the direction she was going, she would run into them—him, the kiwi, and the magpie.

They exchanged glances.

"Ah!" The girl ducked as something flew at her head from above, swooping low as though to sink its claws into her skull—but missing instead.

The owner of the Avian advanced from behind, reaching out to grab the girl's jacket but she evaded his grasp once more, dropping and tumbling to the right and regaining her balance so easily, Io thought he was watching a movie.

Though the curious Io would very much like to remain still and observe her incredible agility, he figured that there were more important things at hand for the predator had unsheathed his dagger in frustration.

It was then when something clicked within the sparrow; recognition. It was the barn owl he had met in the previous games, before Slayne had appeared to drive him away. The one that didn't look like a predator at all.

Mauri swung his weapon at the girl and it thankfully cut air as she stepped back quickly, evading the attack with yet another cry—before barely ducking low when he made to stab her shoulder. A hummingbird. That was all she was.

Rien had pointed out the flitting Avian that darted from side to side, seeming to adopt the art of teleportation. Yet her show of skill only made the tears in her eyes all the more telling of a soul about to break and say but one thing;

The girl was frightened.

Io could not understand what use violence brought to the table and whether it really made things simpler or more complicated and just how it would serve to speed up the process of getting a Mark but this was no time for proper thinking.

He looked at the phoenix. Sol.

Stay, he thought.

Then the boy emerged from his cover and Shel gasped in panic because: what the hell was he doing?

The former produced bow and arrow, taking aim with nothing close to a steady hand. Fear, of course, made one tremble—and will was not enough to stop it.

An unfortunate advantage that belonged to the predator caught the sparrow fast as Mauri, though exhausted by the sun and its tiring rays, was quick to side-step his aim.

This had quite the opposite effect.

The arrow grazed his arm in its course, drawing a hint of red in its speed and startling the hummingbird into a fall. The catch was that Io did not have the best aim, and his opponent had, for all intents and purposes, overestimated him. Mauri steadied himself from the sharp pain, suppressing its hold and turning his attention instead to the girl before.

But it was here, at this moment, where the Nocturne's head turned with a resounding crack.

Slow; agonizingly so, that the sound stretched itself taut across the clearing—waiting; waiting for the moment where his gaze would meet the sparrow's in the uncanny turn of his head, which seemed to be far from affixed to his body. Under scrutiny did eyes ignite memory, and Mauri was able to put name to face. Tori to Joker, Joker to him.

In the moment of silence came a whip of action as the Nocturne shot forth with a blast so unlike his tardiness before. His newfound target took to flight almost instantly as his companions, startled by the sudden movement, crouched and stumbled back in panic.

Io took off in a dead sprint away from the hummingbird and everyone else, not knowing where he was going but not particularly caring either. The purpose was in the distance—and that was all he needed to do to get them out of fear.

Mauri fixed his all on a single target and he felt it once more; the victory he had been craving for.

Speed was not exactly his forte but it was the addition of silence that made it so admirable.

The sparrow did not look behind, for he knew too soon that this was the time to keep his eyes on where he was going and Lyra only concurred.

Where he was going?

Where...was he going?

Realization was to come—a step too late, really—in due time and both Io and the barn owl began to see through the fog in their minds, conjured by adrenaline and perfected by instinct and greed respectively.

Separation was a huge mistake. How then, at this rate, would he be able to go back?

What Io did not know was that this was a repeat of an event that occurred within another time, experienced by a different person all-too closely related to him.

Pipa had met Vaughn the same way.

The barn owl seemed to have come to a similar conclusion and the smile upon his lips confirmed this worldly misfortune that Io knew would soon befall.

It hit him next.

That arrow. It was his only one.

There was no other way—he had to go back.

There was a halting lurch in his steps as the boy came to a sudden stop, feeling the fear gather in his cage but closing an eye nevertheless to face the predator. He turned.

Mauri lunged forth with a blade positioned clear and it was sheer luck that Io brought his bow up to meet it with a dull clang. The impact brought along with it the brief realization of the Nocturne's strength—and it was no disadvantage. Io thanked the skies that the blade did not meet his flesh.

The owl withdrew and came again, once more, with his dagger poised high—ready for a plunge and the blade was all of a sudden between his eyes coming at his face when

Blink

"F—"

He had spoken; but that was aside his point.

The dagger was abandoned on the forest ground and Mauri was clutching his arm with a silent gasp.

Beside, no—above him, was Victoria with her wings spread wide. There was a moment of relief and confusion and fear and then happiness for everything was far too much to withhold and time was simply not sufficient for the overwhelming thoughts and emotions that came like a flood.

With the golden eagle here, Io knew, without a doubt, that his friend was somewhere nearby and this brought not just a relief to his heart but a strange confidence in his actions as well.

He willed Lyra to speak to Victoria, for he could not hear her.

Thank goodness! Io would have lost his eyes. I swear, I don't know how he's still alive, said Lyra breathlessly, making out the situation without much of a clear mind.

I don't know either, Victoria mused. But my Winged would prefer him so, and therefore, by extension, I as well. Oh I can't believe this owl's bleeding so much from a mere scratch. All I did was—

Io heard her through the Link clear as day. Though it fed on his energy and made him feel more nauseous as before, he stumbled forth, kneeling beside Mauri.

Sparrow? Sparrow, what are you doing?

The barn owl was in no shape to move as he gritted his teeth in pain and glared at his dagger that was a couple of feet away. His left hand clutched the other arm in attempt to stem the flow of red but it only served to do little.

Io, Lyra called urgently. Let's go while we can.

He listened, but did not seemed to hear. Mauri could almost hear the phantom in his mind, haunting in its cry: close. So close.

Again, he had lost to someone else. Someone of a higher rank—no! This was not his end.

He struggled to rise, shaking in his attempt only to fall again as his balance failed him.

Io found his flow of thought beginning to stray.

His hands drew towards the shirt he was wearing and begin to, helplessly, tear at the material. He realized that it wasn't as easy as it looked in the movies at all, and perhaps some fabric was stronger than the other; or maybe his arm strength was rather weak. There was no way he could make a bandage out of this.

Io! No, what are you doing? Please, can we go? Lyra was beginning to sound very anxious, worried that the owl's Avian might start calling for allies. Victoria, will you call for Luka?

I can, and I have. I assure you however, there will be no helping him in this situation—my Winged practically does anything yours tells him to!

Lyra couldn't say anything to that.

It was after a minute that Mauri began to comprehend what the sparrow's strange movements meant, and it only served to humiliate him even further by the looks of it. A prey? Help him? Why the fuck did he need help from a prey and no less a Jo—

Joker?

Fuck.

Mauri's eyes widened. Where was his Mark? The charm—it was...

Gone.

A newfound strength from anger and frustration could not be reined; the barn owl lurched forth with a grunt, grabbing the sparrow's collar and pulling him closer to inspect—

"Ack!" Someone grabbed his neck and his grip slackened. Io wriggled free, gasping for breath.

Luka stood over the owl, looking very much...displeased.

__________________________

A/N: Hello my dears! I apologize for the fairly short chapter, it was nearly 4k because I had decided to split it into two ._. I was on an 8k word count yesterday and thought HOLY this is too much for one chapter so I thought I'd just put this up first to a-appease you *bows down to the almighty reader*. The next chapter will be up in a day or so! ^0^/ thank you for reading. 

-Cuppie