Wooyoung should have used his time to curl up and act out his inferiority while he came up with a genius plan on how to not get killed, but he couldn't help his distraction. He spent every free minute trying to spy Sǫndúlfr between the rows of savage Vikings that worked the oars to get them back to land as soon as possible. He stood out, for his face was just as hairless as Wooyoung's.

That same damn face again.

Seungyoun had told Wooyoung once how faces could reappear through history and how, especially among families with a clean ancestry, some facial features stayed very pronounced even after many generations. But this was getting ridiculous. Not only were they far from Babylon and Rome, but it had also been a thousand years now since Suusaandar had become part of the ashes of Babylon.

It was also the third damn time this face showed up right where Wooyoung time-jumped and he had enough of the faint wariness. An aura of secrecy wavered around the man who clearly didn't fit in with the other Vikings visually, but they ruffled his long and braided black hair just as confidently as that of the rest. And yet, each time he didn't seem to question Wooyoung showing up again.

Gnawing on his lips, Wooyoung glared at him. Three men, three epochs. All with the same features, voices, even similar names. Nothing on this earth could prove to Wooyoung that this wasn't against all the odds.

But how would Wooyoung face this predicament? There was no harm in telling Sǫndúlfr he was a time-traveller. Either the man was one himself and their paths had crossed by accident, or he was actually innocent in all this and just wouldn't understand the witchcraft Wooyoung would blabber about.

Should he risk it? This man was not exactly part of Wooyoung's mission and messing with him, especially in their brutal Viking setting, might be the last mistake Wooyoung made.

But he was just so curious. Hell, he had even slept with a guy sharing those exact features. If anyone deserved to know, it was Wooyoung.

Was he an acquaintance of Yongguk, perhaps? Had he been sent to have an eye on Wooyoung? Or was he part of their rival institute in Asia that tried to snatch the recipe to immortality before Wooyoung's team could?

From narrow eyes, Wooyoung watched him. His mind in overdrive actually warmed him. Most of his muscles were tense with anticipation of what the Vikings would do to him, so his body gradually heated back up under his blanket.

A devious little idea popped into Wooyoung's head. With a dramatic sniff, he sunk further into himself until he was no more but a little ball at the corner of the ship. He pretended to shiver pitifully and curled and twisted as if in pain.

It took only a while until the man nearest to him got annoyed enough that he informed the controlling lady of it. With a sigh, she merely looked at Wooyoung once and then bellowed over the ship.

"Someone take Sǫndúlfr's place! Sǫndúlfr, take care of the plucked chicken. Ask him what else he needs. No use in fishing him out if he dies now." She grumbled to herself before she stared into the grey sky as if asking her gods what she had done to deserve this. If they were under surveillance right now, Wooyoung hoped Loki would be proud of him.

Once more, Sǫndúlfr stomped over to take care of Wooyoung. This time, he picked him up from his corner to carry him in his arms as one would to with a child. With big eyes, Wooyoung stared at the bulging muscles under his tanned skin. Or, well, the stripe of skin he saw through the wolf's pelt that the man wore around his shoulders over his grey tunic. It matched his fur gauntlets and the grey pants that looked ridiculously cosy on his broad frame. The boots on his feet were adorned with the same fur that looked soft but was probably clammy with mud and ocean salt.

Sǫndúlfr carried Wooyoung to the very stern of the ship and set him down in the protected corner where the two halves of the ship connected. Back here, Wooyoung was sheltered from the wind and could look out over the crew that had their backs to him. Up at the bow, a giant of a man manned the rudder, and the woman glanced at them sometimes as she ordered the crew around. Was she the captain?

"There. What do you need? Do you freeze easily?" Sǫndúlfr knelt in front of Wooyoung to tuck the blanket tighter around his body. Wooyoung knew that telling him one blanket was by far not enough for him to withstand the winter out on a ship in Scandinavia naked would be a risky thing to say. Thus, he just wrapped his arms tighter around himself. His shivering got him a helpless gaze from those eyes that had become so familiar to Wooyoung. The same damn eyes.

He would do one last test. One.

"Can't help freezing without the cosy hair that would keep me warm," he grumbled to himself.

And there it was. The smile that spread on Sǫndúlfr's lips dug dimples into his cheeks. And for a moment, he understood. He understood because he also didn't fit in. Because this man was an impostor. Any other crew member wouldn't meet Wooyoung's petulance with such humour and patience.

Wooyoung glanced over Sǫndúlfr's shoulder to check that they had some privacy. Then he leaned closer to the man. Befuddled by the need to whisper, the Viking stayed in place.

"Listen. I know this might sound ridiculous to you, but I believe we have met before. Hundreds of years ago."

The other man blinked at him. His face settled into the adorably dumb expression of a clueless puppy and it was far from any look a Viking would give. Wooyoung had the real ones right there as a comparison.

"You must be mistaken. Are you one of those who went mad? No wonder you were in the water." He gave a nervous smile, as if wanting to soothe the insanity he had bestowed Wooyoung with.

But Wooyoung was sure of it. Something about this man was off. And he would tickle the truth out of him.

"No, listen. We met before. Twice. Or at least, I met people who look like you. In the ancient city of Babylon and then again in Rome." Wooyoung's hiss got even pushier. He wanted an answer.

For a brief second, something flashed behind the other man's eyes. A trigger at the word Babylon.

A country that a modern Viking shouldn't know about.

Sǫndúlfr reeled back a bit. Now he was the one who looked apprehensive. Dark doubtfulness clouded his brows and his eyes looked sharper than before as he eyed Wooyoung.

"Must have been someone else..." He tried again.

He didn't even question how Wooyoung claimed to have been there hundreds of years ago. Triumph spread sweetly in Wooyoung's chest and Sǫndúlfr knew he had messed up when a devious smirk spread on Wooyoung's lips.

"We slept with each other. In a villa in Rome that had a spacious garden where you drank wine spiked with opium with your friends. Your neighbour was called Linus, and you sometimes had orgies in your gardens that you invited your people over to. I was there. Right with you under a starry sky and surrounded by white pillars."

Sǫndúlfr's eyes had widened. Each word ripped one more brick from the wall he had erected between his expression and well-veiled memories. What was left was an exposed man with naked shock written on his features. He knew what Wooyoung was talking about. Oh, he knew.

"I will help you remember even more if you want, but first, I want answers. Who are you really?"

Wooyoung tilted his head in Sǫndúlfr's direction. The man's eyes flickered left and right to avoid Wooyoung's penetrating stare, but he couldn't deny the faint blush that dusted his features in the chilly air. Ever since Wooyoung had mentioned them sleeping together, he looked at the mole on Wooyoung's lower lip more often than he tried to admit.

With Wooyoung all in his space, Sǫndúlfr had nowhere to go. When the question burst over his lips, it came just as sudden as Wooyoung discovering his identity must have been.

"Then- If you were there, are you like me?" The Viking's eyes were wide open in awe and shock.

Troubled, Wooyoung tilted his head.

"Like what?"

Before he got the answer he had been yearning for so desperately, steps closed in on them. Immediately, Wooyoung sunk back so his investigation wouldn't endanger either of them.

It was the captain lady who came to stand next to them with an impatient scowl. Her strong jaw and prominent brows were so different from what modern female bone structure looked like. Wooyoung tried not to stare too much as he pretended to shiver pitifully in his corner.

"What did he need?"

"Ah, he is starving. He had a long journey here," Sǫndúlfr said to save Wooyoung. Awed by his quick wit, Wooyoung tried to look even more haggard and spindly.

The woman scoffed, but she gave a dismissive nod as well.

"He can have food in the village. I will have to discuss it with our chief, but I decided he would be a suitable sacrifice for Odin. We gathered four other children already, and he matches them well. Since he is a stranger, it's the greatest honour we could grant a weakling like him."

Wooyoung tried not to show how his body locked up and he sat petrified.

This was even worse than what Yongguk and he had imagined happening. He had to get out of that affair before anything happened.

"I agree. He probably wouldn't make it far through the winter, anyway."

Sǫndúlfr's agreement had Wooyoung gawk at him in panic. He wanted to plead for his life on his hands and knees, but that would prompt them to kill him faster and throw his body back to the fishes. If he had only honour left, he would need to tweak it somehow until he could escape.

Sǫndúlfr caught Wooyoung's eyes. His gaze promised they would talk later, that there would still be time to clear things up before he would get sacrificed to the one-eyed god.

For a moment, the woman looked at Wooyoung as if waiting for him to grovel on the ground to thank her. When nothing happened and he just looked miserable curled up on the ground in nothing but a blanket, she shrugged it off and left.

"Get back to work! We will anchor in a while, and we need all hands on deck. You can collect him later," she called over her shoulder. Sǫndúlfr already stood up when Wooyoung still pawed at his legs frantically to get him to stay. His numb fingers slid over the soft pants, unable to grasp onto them.

"Don't go anywhere; I will come and get you. See you later," Sǫndúlfr whispered. Then, he marched off to be right on time when the resounding call of a horn alerted all men for work.

Wooyoung pulled his shaking legs under his blanket and sunk into a heap. He hoped to become invisible and that they all just forgot about him. Getting sacrificed sounded horrible, and even if he had found out that Sǫndúlfr carried a dark secret, Wooyoung wouldn't hesitate to run if the danger became too threatening.

The last few dozen metres up to the shore were a bumpy ride. The ice drawing in from the land crashed against the ship as the bow punched through the stubborn pieces. Through the splintering and breaking, the Vikings called out to the townsfolk on land that had assembled to greet them. In a small group clad in warm wool and pelts, they stood in front of their houses at the foot of the mountain. They blended in with the forest at a safe distance from sea level. Children and dogs (or rather wolves) sprung around in glee over the successfully returning crew.

Wooyoung cowered in his corner until Sǫndúlfr would pick him up. In this ominous hour of the frosty coast of Norway, Wooyoung had no other choice but to trust the many-faced Viking. At least if he wanted to return home without getting sacrificed to the gods or simply beheaded because he misspoke.

With his stomach in knots, he waited for the ship to halt once it had reached the shore. The first Vikings jumped right off and splashed through the water to greet their families and kiss their wives. Others stayed to unload and with them was Sǫndúlfr.

Waiting and trembling, Wooyoung stayed right where he was and allowed the snow to tumble down on him.