Through a thick haze of falling dust, a black-haired man stood at the top of the border.

His large body was wrapped with a black surcoat, soaked with blood making him uncomfortable under the weight of his clothes.

His figure was bathed in the light, his nose was filled with the acrid stench of incineration as he held his sword tightly.

He breathed heavily as he stared down at the ground, the slender trees that once stood tall were all wilted and had become bare.

Bodies were scattered all around the glade which the sun scarcely touched, with severed limbs, and mutilated bodies, completely unrecognized.

While their loved ones search in despair, with the hopes of finding them, or at least their corpse.

He closes his eyes as his heart aches fiercely, the cries of grief and anger howling in his ears.

What had transpired here would haunt him, always. Nothing could ever expiate it, and perhaps nothing should.

Before he realize it, someone had already sidled up to his side. He looked to his right and saw Ron together with Beacrox.

He nodded in acknowledgment, and the two returned it with a single nod.

"The crown prince beseeched us to come to the palace," said Ron, as he removed the black cloth covering half of his face.

Some of the border guards who have heard Ron turned their way with admiration and underlying envy, whispering with each other.

But the guards quickly retrieve their gazes and dared not to look any longer, should they be caught, they knew very well the man has killed many others without so much as a thought.

They wouldn't want to be added to that list.

But it was futile, Choi Han could feel the stares, the hushed undertones of their curiosity and contempt.

Suddenly, he felt itchy and uncomfortable.

Whilst Beacrox was removing his gloves, discarding them down on the stone floor, small bruises and scratches were seen across his hands and mainly his wrists.

Ignoring the pain, he hastily wore a new set of clean gloves.

One couldn't tell if he heard or noticed, as the features of his face were stretched icily, eyes fixed on a point far ahead, to the invisible line dividing the sky from the ground.

Choi Han stayed silent, his thin lips gradually pursed into a straight line.

He then cleaned and sheathed his sword, and later spoke, his voice low. "We should go, lest it's important."

He gave one last look at where the bodies piled over each other as the collector made its way on them, carrying a large empty cart, tainted with crimson, and then finally stalked away.

The two followed without a single word of disapproval.

The sun was setting, and the castle was cloaked in shadow as the sun sank, highlighting the brilliance of the exposed land.

They arrived just in time before nightfall, the temperature around them plummeted, and the noises taper into tranquility as they approaches the palace.

The guards stationed on each side of the entrance saluted once they notice their presence.

Choi Han heave a sigh as he pushed his messy black hair gently away from his forehead.

The cold air blows, it rustled the trees, caressing their hair and cheeks, prickling the hairs on the back of his neck.

"And here I thought I was the only one." Someone spoke behind them, whimsically.

They looked towards the source of the sound and saw Rosalyn with Lark in tow, walking towards them.

"You've been summoned as well?" Beacrox asked as his corpse-like eyes stare at her, unblinking.

"Yes, and I also brought along Lark with me," she answered as she makes a silent note of the dark, purple bruise that rested on Choi Han's face.

Lark nods his head, long strands of gray hair covering his eyes, not turning his gaze to anyone in particular.

His sleeves were rolled upward, his scars showing through.

"And you, any idea as to why?" she asked mildly, and jerked her head towards Choi Han as she rummaged through her bag.

Choi Han took a minute before getting what she pertaining about and shook his head in return.

Rosalyn threw something in his direction, to which Choi Han easily caught it with his hand.

He also noticed she handed one to Beacrox and Ron.

He then mumbled a 'thanks' as he realized it was a vial of healing potion and quickly drank it.

Despite finishing the bottle, the fatigue still clung to his body like leaden weights, although that feeling was normal since he came here.

"Greetings."

When the voice fell, they all turned and saw three of the servants of the palace standing on the steps, as they inclined their heads in respect.

The one in front of the other two then spoke. "We are very grateful for your presence."

The other slowly straightened his posture, his hands politely clutched behind his back, and then added briefly. "His Highness has been waiting, please follow me."

He then leads the way, the two following suit. The six of them shared a glance before following.

They walked down the hallway, walls decorated with fine jewels and gold, immaculately carved marble, with grand clear windows.

And as always, the silence remains as the candles that lit the hall were stuttering sleepily in their brackets.

A tangible sense of depleted ness hung about the place.

Servants who happened to be in the same hall stopped in their tracks, bowing respectfully as they passed them before continuing with their duties.

Choi Han kept his eyes trained on the servant's back, his hand remaining on the hilt of his sword, still buckled to his hip.

"We have arrived." The servant announces as he knocked on the door.

A few seconds later, a voice answered from inside. "Come in."

The servant gestured them to come inside, the other two opening the door for them. When they had completely gone inside, he spun around and left them alone aside from bowing respectfully, closing it silently.

"Your Highness," Rosalyn called out, her hand coming up to her chest as she bows down.

Alberu's tapping fingers pause, lowering his book, his eyes flicking up to peer directly at them.

"You're finally here." He says, before slipping the leather bookmark between the pages of the book he's been engrossed in for the past hours.

"You sent for us, your Highness?"

"I did."

He pushes forward, placing the book next to reams of reports and paperwork. He rounds his desk, movements refined and elegant.

A smile breaks out on Alberu's face as he turns to them, folding his arms around his chest and leaning back on his desk, he then asked. "I wanted to see how you were doing."

This seemed to amuse them, particularly Choi Han, but Ron beats him to it.

"How we are doing." He repeated as he lifts an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

Throwing a glance towards the corner of the room, he then chuckles.

"We are, to answer your question, still alive and well. Although I'm deeply grateful that you care for our wellbeings, I reckon you didn't call us here, merely to check on us." He says, just a shy disrespectful

He shrugs subduedly but later admits. "I suppose not."

He then sucked in a sigh and uncrosses his arms.

Rosalyn blinks, her brows furrowing as she looks at him with a questioning look, in a split moment as she made quick eye contact with Lark, she thought about whether bringing him with her was a good decision.

Although she had never really considered Lark as weak, she still can't help but feel protective of him.

One of the things she and Choi Han are alike.

The others look at Alberu with the same curious eyes, their mind racing with unwanted thoughts.

But before she could ask, a familiar voice rang out from the far side corner of the room, who finally made her presence known. "Enough with the pleasantries, it is I who asked for you."

They traced the room for the origin of the voice, the person was quick to recognize. Ron's tensed shoulder seemed to ease, sporting a more relaxed posture.

"I come bearing news... The God of death has spoken to me." Cage says as she made her way towards them.

"Another prophecy, I presume," said Rosalyn as she places a hand on her hip.

She shook her head and spoke. "No, not quite... It was different this time."

"Then please, do tell." Said Ron, his eyebrow slightly risen in questioning anticipation.

"He said things about this world..." She started and spread her arm, as she stops walking, maintaining a proper distance between them.

"Many things that we are unable to see but we ought to find, and things that should conceal them in dark and should only stay in secrecy."

"That's how the Gods manage to keep the worlds to stay intact and in balance."

"Worlds you say..." Ron asks slowly, looking as incredulous as the others feel.

Except for Choi Han.

She hums and says. "That's why to my surprise when the God of Death told me about another world, a reality existed somewhere, that world follows the same as ours but quite far different trajectory, and we-our counterparts are faring well there now, so to speak."

Seeing their faces morphed into confusion, Cage sighs in exasperation, as if they were all missing something obvious. "Don't you get it?"

"A war broke out there and all of our counterparts managed to survive."

Lark drew in a deep, shaky breath, then slowly released, He could hear a faint ringing in his ears and his vision began to tunnel.

And asks, his voice almost inaudible. "We-they survived?"

"Every single one of them and not only that, they manage to kill that son of a b*tch."

This seemed to catch them off guard.

Rosalyn let out a gasp, curiosity swells in her heart with a ferocity she couldn't control.

Choi Han's eyes widen a fraction, he wasn't sure what to feel, but a certain feeling takes root and begins to grow inside him, he could feel it worm its way into his stomach.

He looked over to Alberu, his eyes probing but the other's face remained stoic, revealing nothing.

There was no joy nor relief, an unsettling feeling washed over him.

He has known Alberu for a long time, yet he never seems to completely understand exactly what is playing on Alberu's mind, constantly hidden in an inexplicable shroud of secrecy that he hasn't yet been able to decipher.

However, Through the years, he did learn that Alberu was not only ambitious but also manipulative.

Granted, it is an unsavory trait, but it was also what kept the other and his subjects alive.

Thus the respect and loyalty he had for the crown prince never left, albeit it might waver with some of the judgement, motives and choices the other has made, but it is always there.

However, his faith in the other seemed to be put to a test this time.

Lark was no better, his hands clenched into fists, turning his eyes towards the window and the darkness outside, as he attempts to avoid giving in to the searing anguish that he had been fighting for years.

His thought went to his tribe, his siblings, down to Pendrick, but a voice broke him out of his reverie.

"And what's that got to do with us?" Beacrox asks, a frown playing on his face. His voice sounded quite steady, but there was an edge of bitterness in it.

Choi Han retracted his gaze and stares at her in consternation as he waits for what she would say next.

"Someone tore the veil between the worlds, and well... Maybe the God of death did play a part in it."

"And now we are given this opportunity... The opportunity to change the predestined events of the time, we can gain access to that world," she added.

"You mean we will be traveling there?" Rosalyn asks.

Cage shook her head. "No, we can't be in a world where a version of us already existed.

"That is why for you to go there, we too have to bring your counterpart here as well."

"To explain it more clearly, I'm going to swap your soul and your counterpart's."

"The only problem is that the spell is deep and complex, it will harm you in the process." Cage says grimly.

"Your soul has to travel from one dimension to another, in between spaces and overlapping time, all of that while bringing your counterpart here and to be done only by a mere mortal..." she trails off.

"Can't the God of Death do it himself?" Beacrox asks.

"Gods can't delve into the affairs of humans, one shouldn't even think of it, he is already going far against the law only by informing us this."

"When you say that it may harm us, what exactly do you mean by that?" Lark asks.

"As I said earlier the spell is almost impossible." Cage paused, eyes flicking back up to meet him. "It will take a toll on your body, it isn't a simple feat-it will cost a lot."

"What is the extent of the harm it may cause us," Choi Han asks finally.

"I can't say with certainty," she answers.

And thus, the missing piece was finally there and sadly, it came unsurprising.

Choi Han broke into laughter, she might have taken offense, had she not noted its hollow, dejected tenor.

"It doesn't sound like we have much of a choice." He rasped, he then turned to him, his dark ebony eyes locking with the sharp blue eyes.

Alberu placed a hand over Choi Han's shoulder and quickly retrieved it before the other could shrug it off, he then spoke.

"Choi han, your worry is not unmerited, but the war has been dragged on for so long, we are already losing-manpower and resources, we cannot afford to waste any more chances we've got."

Choi Han and the rest understood quite well what the other truly meant.

They are fighting a losing battle.

If they don't take this chance now, Roan will fall into ruin, everyone is as good as dead.

"I-" Choi Han was stopped in his sentence as Beacrox stepped forward.

Discerning his son's intention, Ron hastily spoke. "In that case, I shall be the one going first."

Under their piercing stares, Ron chuckles as he asks. "What, too old for the task?"

"Yes." Choi Han wasted no time answering.

Ron scoffs in answer.

"Father, I think-"

"Enough." Ron cuts him off, and he then turned to Alberu. "The best at gathering intel would be me, furthermore we are still in the middle of the war, and compared to every one of us, my absence will only have a lesser impact than anyone of you."

We aren't even sure if one will be able to come back.

But instead of voicing out his initial thought, he says instead. "Besides, I believe the God of Death isn't atrocious enough to offer an opportunity that only death awaits us on the other side."

Beacrox closed his eyes and pinched his brows together as he let that stubborn voice wash over him.

He wanted to refute, but couldn't fault his father's logic.

They could ill afford to be careless and knew he couldn't exactly persuade him when he have already decided.

He could only look at him in defeat, his shoulders sagging and lips pressing together.

Ron then turned to Cage and asks. "Now tell me, how do we begin?"