Jongho hadn't expected the feeling of deja vu to wash over him in the palace of all places. His unfamiliar surroundings ordinarily called for confusion rather than any sense of belonging. Yet, as Wooyoung sat on his bed and monitored Yeosang's story with his outgrown hair neatly pushed behind his ears, the way his eyes kept wandering to San nearly caused hysteria in Jongho.

San just stood there with his brown jacket and black gloves, looking as average as it could get if they oversaw his hair. And yet, the royal guard couldn't seem to rip his lingering gaze off him for even a moment.

Not that Jongho didn't understand. San was an attractive man, and his charms trapped many people in the beautiful net that he spun. But Jongho's former jealousy resurfaced when he remembered how doting Yeosang had looked at the very same man. How Jongho had to learn for the first time what it meant to be envious of another person and how bitter it had made him.

Yeosang ended his speech as soon as possible without leaving out too much information. The essential bits already created a story to believe. Sometimes Wooyoung gasped surprisedly when the strewn around compartments in his mind came together to create the horrendous machine that the king was.

Once Yeosang lowered his eyes to the floor mannerly to leave Wooyoung some space to think, Jongho also tensely crossed his arms. Seonghwa had aided the story whenever needed and added relevant pieces that Yeosang forgot. The silence of the two princes penetrated the room's thick tension.

"That's a lot to take. But I'm afraid there's more."

Curious, San tilted his head when Wooyoung's eyes fluttered around the room to look at all of them once. Mingi seemed to intimidate him with his blank face and tall stature. With their heavy equipment and stubborn eyes, the troop probably resembled savages to the little palace boy, but the two princes' well-known faces seemed to alleviate him.

Shadows cut Yeosang's pale skin with obscure edges as he leaned forward, ready to listen more.

"I- You said you shut off some of the Bishops. Is there one nearby?"

At their slow nods, Wooyoung rose and dusted his jacket off. He beckoned Yeosang to follow him, but the jittery gesture included all of them.

When Wooyoung strode to the door where San was leaning in case of an emergency, his steps slackened. As if he didn't dare to get too close to the pathfinder, Wooyoung rigidly avoided his eyes as he reached out his hand for the doorknob.

San regarded him with a patient smile curling around his lips. As expected, he enjoyed flustering people.

Yeosang joined Jongho at his side to whisper to him as they followed Wooyoung.

"What do you think of him? Any alarm bells going off?" Yeosang's deep voice sounded like music to Jongho's ears. Never before, he had considered music as something necessary or something he related much with. Music was luxurious, and the people who made it were carefree and had their heads in the clouds. A privilege that Zey didn't have. Still, he seemed to have developed a taste for it. He liked how it caressed his ears.

"He fidgets a lot, but I think he's just nervous. He helped us before, too, so I think we will be fine trusting him. If not, we will hopefully be able to overbear him as the five people we are."

Chuckling, Yeosang brushed his shoulder against Jongho's in the faintest touch that they dared before he sprung off to walk beside Wooyoung. Jongho made sure to keep track of their surroundings in case somebody suddenly popped up to shake a flannin with them. At the lack of movements or sounds outside of their group, he relaxed only partly. While Seonghwa had assured them that the eastern wing was basically abandoned anyway and he had been the only one to regularly raise dust in the passages, Jongho remained on edge.

Yeosang led Wooyoung to the pair of automatons at the bottom of the stairs. The metal guards stood frozen and towered over them by a head or two. Their glass eyes were dark, and no light shone behind the bulging lenses. Jongho kept an eye on them, wary if they might abruptly come back to life.

"I learned of this only recently, and I don't know if it's important, but I figured it might be significant knowledge," Wooyoung murmured under his breath as he stepped around the automatons. He wasn't shy around them, probably because they recognised him. Jongho still wondered how they had accomplished that the machines were programmed to attack only certain people. The Spheres were different. The Spheres obeyed the commands the military put into their panels and shot at anything that moved in the dark. But the Bishops recognised faces, a groundbreaking modern method in Jongho's books.

Wooyoung stretched his body as he attempted to touch one of the tall Bishops' neck. However, his movements didn't quite reach where he needed to be, and for a moment, he studied the stairs and the Bishop, lost. Did he need help to move them over?

"I'll get a chair; excuse me for a moment." Just when Wooyoung whipped around to fetch a stepping tool, San stepped up. In an offer, he turned his back to Wooyoung and knelt on the floor.

"Need a hand?" His fingers gently patted his shoulders to show what he meant.

Mingi whistled when Woooyung blushed a whole plethora of red shades. Then, he carefully straddled San's shoulders. When San wrapped his hands around Wooyoung's thighs to hold him and stood up, Wooyoung's hands flew to his hair to hold on. A chuckle escaped San's lips as he got to his feet without too much trouble and walked up to the automatons. Jongho had to give the man credit for how fearlessly he faced the metal devils.

"Give me a second. Please tell me if I get too heavy, alright?" Busy fiddling with some hinge on the junction between the automaton's head and the torso, Wooyoung still spared a moment to glance down on San worriedly. Grinning, San just held on tighter.

"You're fine. Go on."

Yeosang and Jongho exchanged a glance that held mirth at their antics. When Yeosang was the one to roll his eyes fondly, Jongho smiled privately behind his mask.

Before he could get lost in the thoughts of how good Yeosang looked with black hair that complimented his fair skin and the colour of his lips, a little click sounded. Keeping his praises for the shuffling prince for later, Jongho fixed his eyes on Wooyoung again. The man made an effort and strained for a moment, enough to have San shift his feet to catch the onslaught of alterations. Then, the head of the Bishop came off with a resounding crack. Jongho just wanted to raise a confused brow when he froze at the sight underneath the head.

Or rather, a helmet.

"Here, uh- Please put me down."

Promptly, San complied before he retrogressed with awe to look at the Bishop. Wooyoung watched him shyly, but their moment wasn't of importance anymore. Much more important was the person inside the Bishop. A real human with a pale face and closed eyes sat in the automaton as if it were armour. The man seemed to have lost consciousness, or maybe he was also dead.

"A human?! They all carry humans?!" Shocked, Yeosang stared at Wooyoung. At the man's jerky nod, his face noticeably whitened.

Seonghwa was the first to piece the puzzle together.

"So this is his new army. A bunch of people still, but in mighty suits. Is the man dead?"

Wooyoung rubbed his neck in distress as he nodded. Without thinking, he handed Mingi the massive helmet he was still holding when the man approached him.

"Yes. They are wired with the suit, and the second the suit gets destroyed, they die since they are hooked to its machines. A technique to keep an enemy from gaining attention or being able to replicate the suit in case of a battle, I think." Fidgeting, he glanced around to make sure nobody would catch them out in the open.

"And his identity?"

"He's from Zey." Shameful, Wooyoung ducked his head. Even as Jongho's mind supplied him with the reminder that this was in no way Wooyoung's fault, hot anger ignited in his chest to eat an ugly hole into his heart.

"They offer people an alternative, a well-paid job in the palace. Those asked, take it, but this is where they end up — fresh meat for the new army. Most of them don't mind since they get a fancy suit built to have them survive, but... It seems wrong to ask them instead of our soldiers. The king sacrifices those whom he doesn't care about."

The revelation wasn't new to the group, but Wooyoung spat it out bitterly. So he had trusted, too. The intrigues in the palace hid well from people's eyes to fester in the darkness.

Just like Zey. Asora was just as vile and treacherous as Zey.

Jongho nearly laughed at that thought.

Yeosang rubbed his arms as if the thought chilled him.

"And I presume they all received the order to kill anybody who is not part of the royal court as of the present situation?" Seonghwa continued his interview with a harsh voice, and Wooyoung approved, intimidated by his dark brows that had settled into a frown of fury.

"The thought that they are wired is scary. I think they might make sure there are no survivors by the time they won the war. Even if to make sure nobody tells on them." The chilly declaration from Mingi prompted a dark inclination from Seonghwa.

"Sounds right. Another secret unveiled. My father can't seem to stop aggravating everything. We'll try to free as many of these people as possible once we took care of him. No more than needed should die." He motioned at Mingi to put the head back on the automaton so they wouldn't cause any suspicion. Mingi could reach well enough now that he knew what they were doing.

They retreated to Wooyoung's room afterwards. The little chamber barely enough place for all of them to pile in it and Jongho used the moment to lean more into Yeosang than necessary as they sat next to each other. Their closeness brought the warmth and the pleasant scent of the other man that Jongho enjoyed so much.

"We could go in through the servant's door. It's on the back of the main building, and we would have to cross the gardens and the kitchen to go in, but we might blend in with the other people and use them as an excuse not to get shot at," Wooyoung offered as a secret route inside. However, Seonghwa shook his head.

"Too many people. I would rather we keep away from any fighting and not pull innocents in, too."

"Then how about the windows of your chambers?"

Yeosang stayed quiet during their brainstorming together with San and Jongho since he had too little plan of the palace outside of his chambers to judge well. Surprise crossed their features when Mingi also joined the discussion, though.

"How about we slip in the suits outside and go there ourselves? Jongho can probably power them up again." A bold claim, but Jongho was willing to try if so obliged.

"A good idea, but it will be suspicious. They all follow their orders, and just marching in would make us even more questionable. Even if it would be great protection against bullets of all sorts." Wooyoung gave him a weak smile.

Seonghwa tapped his foot on the ground as he pondered the possibilities and which one would hopefully do the least damage. If the room weren't so small, he would probably pace it like an animal in a cage. His gloomy desperation infected all of them.

"I'd suggest we have Hongjoong ram his ship right into the windows of the throne room, and we jump off to unplug my father's life support and flee, but I think that isn't the smoothest sneaking technique we could come up with. So let's try via my chambers. I presume they are empty right now?"

Responding instantly, Wooyoung pointed the path out on the map in front of them.

"Then you would leave to the gardens from here and break back in over there. Since I'm not endangered, I can take the normal route and spy out how many guards are on our way. And then we cross the corridors down to the throne room." His fingers found the large hall that was the centre and heart of the palace and the target they tried to hit.

Satisfied, Seonghwa rolled the map back together and put in in the tube that San carried on his back.

"Let's try. I don't doubt we'll have to fight, but we came prepared."

Wooyoung snatched a hair tie from his dresser and put his unruly locks in a little bun. Some forgotten strands still hung into his fox-like eyes, but he already looked a lot more competent than before. On his commando, they all filed out of the room to stop all the rotten power plays in the castle by cutting the problem off by its head.