Chapter Text
The first thing he noticed was the cold. A chill that filled his lungs and spread down to the tips of his fingers and down to his toes like ice in his blood. Numbing. Heavy.
The second thing he noticed was the sounds. Like voices, but too muddy to make out. There was a rumbling like thunder past his ears, drowning out everything else in a crescendo of noise before suddenly, nothing.
After what seemed like an agonizing amount of time, Cassian found that he could move his fingers again. Then his hands, his arms, legs—slowly feeling began to come back to him as warmth rushed through his veins.
He coughed, once, twice then managed to peel his eyes open. He was made aware of the fact that he was on the floor—a bathroom floor—if the slanted view he had of several toilet stalls was anything to go by.
One: gross. Two: why?
Cassian let out a groan of pain as he attempted to sit up. The sound only did well to alert him of a mild headache, and a pain in his chest. Strange. Wait, no, that seemed right. He’d been shot there, hadn’t he? But then why was he here? Hadn’t he fallen into water? Was it a hospital? No, that didn’t seem right—they’d been trying to kill him, no one would have saved him from that, so then, why?
Reaching out for the edge of the nearby sink, Cassian used it to leverage himself to stand, wobbling slightly as he did so. Fuck, he was dizzy.
Head spinning, his eyes wandered to the reflection next to him.
. . .
That wasn’t his face. Also, holy shit that was a lot of blood.
Splattered down the front of the white shirt were crimson stains with a distinct smell of iron. Judging by the streak of it smeared on the corner of his mouth, he could only assume it was his, but why? Regardless, this wasn’t his face—he was sure of that! He looked like a kid! Sure the hair and eye color was similar, but this was definitely not him. He’d never had a scar like that on his cheek—and . . . Cassian paused, eyes falling to something just under the collar of the shirt.
His hands moved to unbutton the collar to get a better look. It took him longer than he’d like to admit to undo just three of the buttons with the way his hands shook; his eyes widened when the fruits of his labor revealed horrible scarring down the front of his chest.
From his left shoulder down to past where he’d opened the shirt ran a long pale scar and underneath that centered around a thin piece of metal—stark centered in his chest—looked like a burn of some kind. He could see remnants of surgical scars too as well as a light dusting of freckles. What the fuck happened to this kid?
“—what’s up? The patrol later? Yeah, I—”
Cassian froze at the sound of the voice, eyes darting to the bathroom door as it swung open. He hadn’t expected someone else to come in, and clearly said person hadn’t been expecting to see anyone either if his surprised expression was anything to go by.
“—I’m gonna call you back, seonbae.” the redhead in the doorway frowned, stowing his cell phone in his pocket.
There was an agonizing few moments of silence as the two of them stared at each other.
“Am I . . . interrupting something?”
“Huh?”
“Your shirt—it's uh . . . wait is that blood? Are you ok?!”
The red-headed boy's expression suddenly shifted and he quickly closed the gap between them.
“H-hey, don’t touch me—”
Cassian hardly had time to voice his displeasure before he found himself on his knees, retching at the sudden taste of metal in his mouth. Coughing into his palm revealed splatters of blood, leaving him with more questions than answers. He barely registered being lifted until the redhead was already halfway down the hall.
“Will you put me down, you overdramatic pretty boy? I’m fine,” Cassian hissed through gasps of air. He wasn’t sure why it was suddenly so hard to breathe; he was starting to get dizzy again, though that could have been due to the way he was being carried rather roughly.
“Clearly you’re not fine—you’re literally spitting blood. I’m taking you to the nurse, no arguments!”
“It happens all the time, it's fine. You shaking me around is not helping, though,” Cassian huffed, some vague sense that it wasn’t entirely a lie.
The shaking stopped as the redhead suddenly slowed, though his grip remained strong. Cassian squeezed his eyes shut as the redhead suddenly shifted him around, the movement making his vision swim.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize. I’m still taking you to the nurse, though. If not for your sake then for mine. I’d feel bad if I just left you in some random hallway.”
“Fine.”
His pride would never let him admit it, but Cassian was glad to be carried. With how utterly exhausted he suddenly felt, he wasn’t sure he could get anywhere on his own if he wanted to. Plus he was still really freaking cold, and the kid just happened to be really freaking warm so no harm no foul, right?
He probably could’ve fallen asleep right there had the sudden sound of voices not startled him back into awareness.
“Miss Yo got a patient for you!”
There was a sound of a door sliding open as a woman's voice responded.
“Ah, Kim! A rare sight for you to be here!”
Cassian felt something soft underneath him as the teen carrying him presumably set him down. He was sad for the warmth to go but was definitely more comfortable than being contorted into a pretzel to be carried.
“Said he’s fine but figured I'd bring him down just in case.”
“‘He’ is awake and can hear you,” Cassian frowned, peeking out from the safety of his eyelids to glare at the redhead still standing nearby.
He could see what looked to be a curtain behind the teen, which seemed to be blocking most of the light in the room. Good for him; he had a headache. Other than the curtain, he could only see one other cot from where he lay.
“Ah, Gwon? Another one? That's three in the past week, bud.”
“I'm fine, really. I just got kinda dizzy.” Cassian replied, sitting up.
As he did a blonde woman wearing a white coat walked over from part of the room he couldn’t see.
“That’s probably because you forgot to come get these, again,” the woman huffed, handing him a handful of pills.
Two of them looked like some kind of Advil, but the other two he didn’t recognize. At least not at first, but of course, he’d recognize them—he took them twice a day! Wait, how would he know that? Cassian frowned at the memory. It was so clear in his mind, but had he always known that? Thinking made his head hurt more than it already did.
He was distracted by the sound of running water—more so the absence of it—as the nurse returned with a plastic cup. She handed it to Cassian before returning to a desk behind the beige curtain.
As Cassian downed the pills in his hand, the red-haired teen took a seat on the second cot. Cassian watched him idly from the corner of his eye as the teen pulled out his cell phone and started tapping away on it.
“Don’t you have a class to be in?” Cassian asked, crumpling up the—now empty—cup as he attempted to toss it into the trash can nearby.
“It’s still lunch break, so it’s fine,” the other teen replied, standing to retrieve the cup before Cassian had a chance to.
“Oh.” With nothing else he could think to say, the room fell silent save for the clicking of the keyboard behind the curtain.
Now that he had a few moments of silence to think for once, Cassian was reminded of the fact that his shirt was still very much covered in blood; the smell was definitely contributing to his growing headache. He frowned down at the stained fabric, attempting to undo the remaining buttons though without much success. His fingers were far less dexterous than he’d like them to be given the uncontrollable trembling.
With a frustrated sigh, Cassian gave up trying to unbutton the shirt, instead opting to try and pull it off over his head. He didn’t get very far that direction either as he found himself in pain, the fabric having caught and pulled on the small piece of metal protruding from his chest. Cassian resisted the urge to swear as he slumped sideways with a groan.
“Are you ok?” The redhead spoke up, a curious glint in his eyes.
“Do I look ok?”
“Well, that’s why I’m asking,” the teen pocketed his phone as he stood, “ Can I help?”
“Hands off, pretty boy,” Cassian slapped away the boy's outstretched hand.
“Wow, you’re prickly. Fine, stew in your bloodstained clothes then.”
“Wait! Sorry—I’m just . . . not well. Will you?” Cassian sat up, his gaze falling to the floor. He couldn’t place why he suddenly felt so embarrassed.
The other teen nodded, skillfully undoing the remaining buttons keeping him trapped and Cassian wasted little time stripping free of the shirt; he tossed it aside at the foot of the cot and flopped onto his back, feeling only slightly better.
“So, uh . . . what’s your name?”
“Gangu.”
Wait, that wasn’t right—his name was Cassian. Wasn’t it? No, no that was right. Gangu Gwon, that was his name. Argh this was all so confusing. Cassian frowned trying to sort through the mud of thoughts, though without much success.
“Gangu, huh? Nice name. I’m Uchan Kim.” the teen held out his hand.
Cassian stared at it for a moment, confused. It took him longer than he’d like to admit to realize the other boy was intending a handshake—which Cassian granted him.
“So, Uchan, are you just gonna sit there watching me forever?” Cassian asked, rolling onto his side to look at the other teen.
Uchan looked surprised by the question, but shook his head, “No, I’m gonna go back to class once lunch is over. Why?”
“No reason.” Cassian frowned.
He rolled over so his back was to the teen—and the light—curling in on himself slightly as he closed his eyes. His chest was sore and his headache thumped painfully behind his eyes; the whole situation was entirely too overwhelming—hell as far as he could remember he was supposed to be dead.
Cassian flinched at the sudden feeling of fabric against his bare arms, glancing up in time to watch Uchan disappear behind the curtain. His confusion only deepened when he looked down to find a red sweatshirt draped over him. He didn’t recall Uchan having it, but then again he hadn’t cared enough about the guy to pay attention to what he’d been wearing.
Well, whatever. The sweater was warm, and—more importantly—not stained with blood; Cassian wasted little time pulling it on to find that it was comically all too big. Had he been standing he was sure it would’ve reached his knees and the sleeves stretched far past his hands. Was he really that small? Or was this Uchan guy just ridiculously huge? In any case, it was his now. They’d have to pry it from his freakishly cold hands.
Now that he was mildly more comfortable than before, Cassian returned to laying curled up on the cot, back pressed firmly against the wall. He wasn’t going to sleep—he couldn’t yet—not until he figured out what was happening, but he was going to rest his eyes just a little. If he was too dizzy to move it would make combat all the more difficult. Still, he was in a good position to see out both directions that curtains covered and his back was to a wall, so there was little hope someone would be able to sneak up on him. It would be safe to rest for just a little bit, right?
At least . . . that had been his plan, so—understandably—he was startled when he suddenly felt a hand brush against his face.
His eyes flew open to find another face uncomfortably close to his own, brown eyes staring back into his amber ones. The woman looked about as startled as Cassian felt, and she took a step back, removing her hand from where it rested on his forehead.
“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up,” she spoke, a gentle familiarity to her voice—yet it was equally foreign to his ears.
Did he know this person?
“S’ok,” he mumbled, rubbing his eye with his palm as he sat up.
There was immediate regret as the movement sent the room spinning. He found himself tipping before he could even think to stop it and ended up flailing for the nearest object to keep from falling. Said object just happened to be a rather familiar-looking teen.
There was a muddy overlap of voices as he tried to steady himself—all a little too quick to translate.
Before he had a chance to question the situation, he was being lifted, all too suddenly onto Uchan’s back. Where were they taking him? Why?
Home. Yuri came to get him. They were going home. But wait, who was Yuri? His sister? He didn’t have a sister. Jeff was his only sibling, even if not by blood.
Curses were these memories from the body’s original owner? They were mixing in with his own, making everything too loud in his head.
It was entirely too loud. He was moving now. Cassian let out a groan of displeasure as Uchan stood, sending his thoughts further into their spiral—or maybe that was just him moving? He couldn’t tell but he knew he hated it. He could hear the words the woman and teen spoke—he knew he should have been able to understand them, yet he couldn’t.
Cassian was tired.
Surely just resting for a moment wouldn’t hurt? Yeah, he could close his eyes for a bit.
~~~
The next time Cassian found himself aware of anything, it was to the fact that he was being shaken. He let out a moan of displeasure at his sister’s attempts to rouse him. Would no one let him sleep?
“Yuri, don’t shake me,” he groaned, attempting to turn away from the brunette.
“Gangu, please? Just five minutes to walk upstairs and you can nap the rest of the day, ok? I really have to get back to work,” Yuri huffed in reply, reaching over to undo his seatbelt herself.
. . .
Seatbelt?
Cassian frowned, glancing around at the interior of the car. The two of them were in some kind of underground parking area. He recognized it despite never having been in it before. Another bonus memory? They were starting to get annoying, though Yuri’s offer of sleep was tempting enough to get him up and out of the car.
He stumbled slightly, having misjudged the distance between himself and the ground; Yuri was quick to catch him by the waist, though that didn’t stop her from taking the time to laugh at him first.
“Jeeze, you’re more of a wreck than I thought, Gangu. Maybe I should’ve made you stay home today.”
“I’m fine~ just eepy,” Cassian replied, leaning against Yuri as they began their ascent up the stairs.
Yuri snorted.
“Eepy? That’s a new one,” she giggled.
“You’re a new one.” Cassian shot back, slumping back against the wall of the elevator as Yuri reached over to press one of the buttons.
He found himself sliding down so he was sitting with his head on his knees as the machine lurched upwards. He wasn’t going to vomit. Definitely not. He did, however, end up coughing quite a bit—a strange irritation in the back of his throat.
Cassian didn’t miss the worried glance Yuri sent him. The elevator dinged another level. How far were they going? Right, the seventh floor. They were on the third now, which meant a long way to go.
He definitely wasn’t going to throw up.
If it was going to be like this every day, Cassian was pretty sure he’d much rather have stayed dead.
The elevator chimed again.
Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure how he was even alive, to begin with. He knew he wasn’t in his body—that much was certain just by looking in a mirror—and the fact that he didn’t remember having a piece of metal sticking out of his chest before and he clearly did now, so something was amiss.
Another chime.
Could it have been the power of one of the other two psykers? He’d seen Jack and Lyra, but other than the sniper, he wasn’t certain of the fourth psykers powers. He was sure that Jack and Lyra had been the ones to hurt Jeff—his wounds had definitely looked like frost burns and sword marks. So maybe the fourth had just been a backup healer? Seemed likely, but they were trying to kill him, so why bring a healer? Why revive him?
Ding!
Right, Jeff! Had he survived? No, last Cassian had seen of him Jack had cut his arms off—if they’d intended to kill both of them, they would have left Jeff to bleed. But then again, if Cassian had been revived, then maybe Jeff was too? He could hope, but how could he be sure?
Ding!
“Ok Gangu, get up.”
Yuri’s voice brought him back from the ocean of thoughts. He frowned at her outstretched hand. Did he have to get up?
“Yes, you have to get up. I can’t carry you with all these bags—so unless you plan to spend the rest of the day in the elevator—”
“—I’m up, I’m up!”
Spending one more second in the elevator sounded more like hell than actual hell; just the thought was enough to get him on his feet—though he was very quickly not on his feet as he tripped over the edge of the doorframe. Yuri wasn’t in time to catch him that time.
“Gangu?!”
“I am dead,” Cassian groaned, resisting the urge to scream into the carpet. It smelled vaguely of smoke.
“No, you’re not. Get up.”
“I am. I have perished! Vanquished by lord elle ‘Vator! Hark! My will! I must be buried in the most expensive soil!” Cassian continued, rolling dramatically onto his back to stare up at Yuri. He was pleased to find a smile—albeit small—in place of the earlier expression of worry. He definitely liked the smile better.
“You’re such a dork,” She smirked, grabbing hold of his outstretched hand.
Cassian let out a squeak of surprise as he suddenly found himself in possession of two bags. He barely managed to get a good hold of them before he was being dragged across the floor by his legs.
“You’re good at this,” Cassian mused, taking note of how quickly Yuri was able to haul him along. Though that could have to do with the fact that he probably didn’t weigh much—at least—he definitely felt lighter than he was used to.
“Hrm, I wonder why?” Yuri smirked down at him, “Oh, hello Mrs. Hae!”
Cassian looked up at the mention of another name to find a woman with black hair standing in the doorway they’d just passed.
“Hello, miss. Gwon. Gangu. At it again I see?” The woman smiled, seemingly not surprised by his current standing.
“You know how it is,” Yuri shrugged.
The woman said something else, but Cassian tuned it out. He was more curious by the fact that apparently, the original owner had done something similar. He honestly didn’t blame them if they did—he felt like death and he’d only been in it for an hour, maybe.
Yuri exchanged a few more pleasantries with the other woman before continuing down to the end of the hallway.
She dropped one of his legs to retrieve a key from the purse he was holding before throwing open the door to the apartment. Kicking off one of her heels, she used it to prop open the door before once again grabbing hold of Cassian’s legs to drag him the rest of the way inside.
Yuri dropped him next to a couch, grabbing her purse before disappearing into the kitchen. Cassian watched her go, not quite keen on getting up just yet.
“What do you want to eat? Er—wait did you eat lunch at school already?”
“No, but I’m not hungry,” Cassian replied, watching as Yuri searched for something in the fridge.
He didn’t actually remember the last time he’d eaten, but the part about not being hungry wasn’t a lie; he still felt weirdly nauseous.
“Ok, well I’m gonna make myself a sandwich. Maybe you should grab a shower? Might make you feel better?” Yuri offered, setting a few ingredients on the counter behind her.
Cassian thought about it. She did have a point—plus he’d just been dragged across an apartment building floor and that probably wasn’t all too sanitary.
He let out a sigh, stretching rather satisfyingly as he sat up. Now the question was, which door was the bathroom again? Well, only one way to find out.
There were three doors down the short hallway—two on each side, one at the end, and a closet on the right side. He decided to try his luck, pleasantly surprised to find he’d scored the bathroom on the first try.
He’d hardly had a chance to even close the door before he suddenly found himself on his knees, choking. Between gasps of air, Cassian was able to drag himself over to the toilet as dark crimson spilled from his lips. His chest burned with every cough; blood and bile mixing in his mouth as one horrible flavor.
Through the tears in his eyes, he could see his knuckles turning whiter than the porcelain they were gripping in a feeble attempt to keep himself upright as his stomach continued to try and empty itself.
When the pain and nausea subsided a few agonizing minutes later Cassian slumped back against the wall, a sweaty, trembling mess. What even was that? Oh right, his—Gangu’s—heart condition. Well, more like lack of one—the kid didn’t have a heart, which was the whole problem.
He groaned, pressing a hand to his chest in an attempt to alleviate some of the soreness. Other than the labored shifting of his lungs as he struggled to catch his breath, it was still. No heartbeat. He’d probably have thought it was cool had he not been in blinding pain.
“Gangu? Are you ok?” there was a light knock at the door, Yuri’s muffled voice sounding from the other side.
“Y-yeah, yeah I’m fine—”
Cassian froze, hand half outstretched to open the door. Except that wasn’t his hand. Azure claws and black metal instead of skin and bone.
No, it couldn’t be.
“Are you sure? I heard—”
“Yes, yes I’m fine! I swear!” Cassian replied hurriedly, scrambling to grab the lock before Yuri could open the door.
There was no way, right? He was just seeing things. He had to be! Otherwise . . .
Back pressed against the door, Cassian’s eyes widened at the sight in the mirror.
When he’d first seen his reflection it was of a teen with short black hair and honey-colored eyes. Other than a few freckles, his face was clear. But now? It was like a completely different person! His hair was blue. It was long too—down to his waist at least—and his eyes. One of them was a deep azure blue, the same as the claws now adorning his hands, while the other was bright, glowing gold. As if to accent the unusual eye color, he noticed his eyelids dusted in a shimmery blue-black. Black markings dotted his cheeks like voids staring back at him, impossibly black, broken only by the small scar on the right side of his face.
Oh god.
He was a villain.
He was a villain? Why?
No way, no way, no way!
Why?
Why now? Of all times? Why a villain? He was a psyker damn it! A top-class psyker, he knew that—he knew it! So why?
No.
No, no, no, no no. No.
Cassian let out a hiss of pain, slumping sideways as his head exploded in pain. His skull felt like it was splitting open as various images flashed before his eyes. Were they . . . memories? Gangu’s? Fuck, he couldn’t focus on any of them—it hurt too much to do anything but curl up and pray for it to stop.
~~~
Cassian wasn’t sure how much time had passed, or when he had even lost consciousness, but what he did know was that it definitely wasn’t a dream. The ache in his everything and the claws on his hands were pretty good proof of that. He wanted to be upset about it, but he couldn’t really bring himself to be anything more than tired.
He did, however, manage to get himself up and off the floor (despite every bone in his body begging him not to). He hissed as sitting up caused him to pull on the ridiculously long hair he was now stuck with as he was apparently laying directly on top of it.
Rubbing at the tears in his eye with his palm, he stood on his knees to scavenge the sink drawers for something to hold it up with. He frowned as his search produced a single bright pink scrunchie and three bobby pins. Well, it was better than nothing and it wasn’t as though he hated pink; Cassian shrugged and definitely didn’t struggle to get all of the hair into a shitty ponytail with the help of his claws. Seriously, everything about his villain form was so inconvenient.
Cassian shook the thought away, inspecting his work in the mirror. He was no hairstylist, but it was definitely a shit ponytail—it was lopsided as shit, and half of it was falling out but it was better than nothing. Not that it really mattered since he wasn’t planning on letting anyone see him.
He was once again distracted from his thoughts, only pulled out of them when his ears picked up the sound of a cell phone. Gangu’s cell phone, and unfortunately for him, it wasn’t with him in the bathroom. He should probably answer it, but that would require leaving his cave, and did he really want to risk that with his current predicament? Yes, it appears he would because that was Yuri’s ringtone.
Cautiously, he unlocked the door and opened it just enough to see outside.
The lights in the apartment were off. It was probably safe to come out then, right?
“Yuri?” Cassian tested his theory.
When no reply came even after a good minute of waiting, he stepped out into the hall, flicking off the bathroom light as he did so.
With all his caution, he didn’t make it to the phone in time to answer it. He frowned at the ‘missed call’ notification as he retrieved the device from the bag on the table. Should he call her back? Would a text work? Ah, she was at work so a call might be worse. He didn’t have a chance to decide as the device in his hand suddenly started vibrating with a second call; he nearly dropped it in his panic to answer.
“Hello?”
“Oh good, you answered!” Yuri sounded relieved, “I just wanted to check in on you quick since there’s a gap in customers right now.”
“I’m alright. Was just about to get something to eat,” Cassian replied, glancing at the clock hanging in the dining room behind him. 2 pm, four hours before Yuri should be home.
“Ok great! I saved some of my lunch in the fridge if you want that—it's just a turkey sandwich, otherwise make something healthy, ok?”
“Sure, I will.”
“Oops, gotta go! I might be home late so don’t wait for me for dinner, ok?”
“I won’t.”
“Love you, bye!”
Right. ‘Love you’. Gangu maybe, but that wasn't him.
Cassian sighed. Should he tell her? It was less a question of ‘did he want to’ and more of whether or not she’d even believe him. If Gangu’s memories were anything to go by, Yuri hadn’t ever been the spiritual type. If he suddenly started talking about reincarnation (if it even was that) she’d probably think he was crazy—hell, any person probably would.
“There you are, Cassian.”
“Who’s there?” Cassian whirled around, eyes quickly scanning the room.
There wasn’t anyone that his trained eyes could see, but he was sure he’d heard a voice.
“Over here, kid.”
Cassian let out a yelp of surprise as he turned back around to find a giant floating something behind him. It was like a ball of smoke with a giant eyeball.
“Motherfucker!” Cassian cursed, hurtling his phone at the shadow out of reflex.
He winced as it thunked against the wall, passing straight through the orb. Well, that was just what he needed, hallucinations.
“Wow. Rude.”
“What the fuck are you? Wait why am I talking to it? Oh god, I am going crazy, aren’t I?”
“You screech like a girl. Anyways, I’m Moros and I revived you, congrats!”
Cassian glared at the spirit/ghost/whatever, hoping to drill a hole through it with his eyes. Apparently, that wasn’t one of his powers. A shame.
“I’m just gonna pretend you don’t exist,” He sighed, passing through the orb to retrieve the device he’d thrown.
“Really? You aren’t gonna ask any questions?” the orb followed as Cassian dropped down on the couch attempting to turn the phone on.
“I could care less about some . . . hallucination. . .” Cassian trailed off—thought lost as his eye drifted across the article on the phone screen.
Apparently, the last thing Gangu had been looking at was a news page for psykers. What caught his eye was the bold text at the top of the page.
‘Corrupt Psyker Cassian Lee executed after critically injuring three colleagues. One still in critical condition.’
The fuck?
Corrupt psyker his ass! Lampas were the ones to come after him! Hell, he still didn’t know why! Those bastards! ‘Critically injured three colleagues’ Sure, he’d hit them but Jack and Lyra couldn’t possibly have been that hurt, and if they were those cunts deserved it. But wait three? Who was the—oh. Oh no.
Jeff.
“Are you fucking kidding me?! They’re saying I tried to kill Jeff? What bullshit!” Cassian couldn’t control his explosion of anger, leaping up from the couch.
He cursed as his foot caught on the corner of the coffee table. There was a loud crack as the table leg snapped clean off, sending everything on top of it tumbling to the floor.
“Cassian—”
“No. No, you shut your fuck! Shut up!” Cassian spat, glaring at the orb as he scrambled to pick up the notebooks that had spilled out of his school bag.
As he was shoving things away, he picked up a necklace. Strangely, it didn’t feel familiar to either set of memories. Which meant it likely wasn’t Yuri’s, so then how did it get on the floor?
“Oh hey, there I am! Was wondering where that went!” the spirit grinned, floating over to peer at the strangely shaped gem in his hand.
“Wait this is yours?”
“. . . you don’t remember? Jeff gave me to you?”
“Oh right! I remember now! When we were in Rhodes, right? I was wondering what it was for—Wait you’re trying to distract me, aren’t you!”
“Well, I had to calm you down somehow. Your poor table wouldn’t take much more of angy Cassy.”
“I'm going to stab you,” Cassian frowned, shoving the bit of jewelry into his pant pocket as he finished cleaning up.
“Technically I’m a mighty soul so you can’t actually touch me!” the spirit preened.
“Really? Want to test—” Cassian froze, the sound of voices floating in from the hall.
That’s right, he was still a villain! Shit, not good.
“Um, kid? What are you doing?” Moros looked slightly amused as Cassian struggled to flip the lock on the sliding door. Curse his giant fucking hands.
“I’m escaping,” Cassian shot back, finally managing to hook a claw under the lever to unlock it.
He threw open the door and stepped out on the balcony, quickly closing it behind him. The balcony in question was ridiculously small. There was space for maybe three people to stand comfortably and that was it. From his new perch, however, he could see the tops of the roofs of the nearby buildings. It was a bit of a distance down, but he could probably jump to one.
Cassian decided to test that theory.
He jumped.
Of course, nothing of his ever went to plan and he ended up hitting the roof faster than he’d thought. He ended up sprawled face down on the roof slightly winded. He could hear the ghost thing laughing behind him.
“Alright, you piece of shit—why the fuck did you bring me back?” Cassian demanded, rounding on the ghost as he sat up.
“I told you why?”
“Bullshit! Why’d I have to be a villain?! Why this body? Why?” Cassian flinched as his fist hit the nearby vent a little harder than he’d meant to, leaving it with a sizeable dent. He couldn’t bring himself to care.
“Cassian, calm down. Getting upset isn’t going to help.”
“. . . I know. I know that, damn it. It’s just—I don’t understand—” Cassian sunk down, putting his head down on his knees—” I don’t get it. Why me? Why not Jeff?”
“Jeff would’ve wanted you to live. Him giving me to you is proof of that, you know,” Moros replied, “ and as for why this body in particular? I don’t know. It just happened to be available when I reincarnated you. That answer all your questions?”
“No, but It’ll do for now I guess.” Cassian sighed. He did still have questions, but with everything in his mind, he couldn’t pick any out.
“Hey, while we’re out, do you want to check out your skills? Since you are a villain now and all?” Moros grinned.
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Cassian rolled his eyes, but nodded.
He winced as his vision was suddenly filled with bright blue; after a moment of rapid blinking, his vision cleared enough to see the blue tablet in front of him. It was like a piece of glass hovering in the air.
‘Huh, just like a game.’ He chuckled, closely examining the screen.
“So are these my skills?” He asked, pointing to a line that read [shadow slicer] / [shadow bind].
“Yep! Wanna try them out?”
“Yeah, but . . . not here.”
Cassian glanced around. The rooftop was relatively secluded—being one on the lower side compared to the surrounding buildings—but it still felt relatively exposed for his comfort. He’d have to find somewhere that wasn't a small jump from his apartment window to cause mass destruction.
Not that he was planning on causing said mass destruction, but with the way the day has been going, it wasn’t necessarily off the table.
“Hey, you.”
“Moros?”
“Sure, whatever—find me a spot without a bunch of people—papa’s got some skills to test.”
~~~
Cassian glanced around at the slight carnage around him—bits of shadow blades sticking out of various objects in the otherwise empty alley way—slightly proud of himself. It hadn’t taken him all that long to figure out how to use the [Shadow Blade] skill and he’d even gotten pretty good at the [Shadow Dash] as well, though he could probably use a little more practice.
“You made quite a mess here; Done for the day?” Moros quipped, admiring the damage from above.
“I doubt anyone is gonna care about a few torn up empty boxes—“ Cassian rolled his eyes, fumbling for his phone to check the time. It was only a little after 6, so he still had some time before he really had to be home—“I think—“
Cassian didn’t have a chance to finish his thought, interrupted by a loud rumbling that shook the ground under his feet.
“The fuck was that?”
“An explosion—looks like a building nearby is being attacked. Probably a villain.”
“A villain you say?”
“Cassian . . .”
“What~?” Cassian frowned at moros, using his claws to quickly scale the wall nearby to get a better picture of what had happened.
Distantly he could see a building with shattered windows—a few of them spouting small amounts of fire as gaggles of civilians sprinted away from it. Yeah, if his ten-ish years of psyker-ing were anything to go by, he’d say that was a villain alright.
“Cassian you aren’t going to go fight that villain in your condition, right?”
“Uh, yeah? It’s a villain? Plus what if there’re still people inside? I can’t exactly just leave them, you know!”
“You aren’t a Psykers anymore. And as an ex-Psyker, you should know that villains fighting other villains is practically forbidden! Unless you have a good reason—“
“I have a good reason! It’s because I said so! Besides, I don’t have to be a Psykers to want to help people do I?” Cassian huffed, using his shadow skill to jump across to the roof of the next building, heading toward the commotion.
“Kid, you’re gonna be spitting blood, I swear.”
“What?”
“Nothing. If you really want to do this, then I’ll support you.”
“Good, I was going to do it regardless!” Cassian grinned, landing in front of the busted front doors of the building.
“Looks like you were right about hostages.” Moros spoke as Cassian approached the nearby staircase.
“You can tell? Where are they? How many villains is it?”
“Just one—two hostages, they’re on the fourth floor. Are you sure about this?”
“For the last time, yes. Now shut up so I can kick this guy's ass and get home.”
Moros made a motion like a shrug before fading into whisps of smoke, leaving Cassian to ascend the stairs on his own.
Admittedly, running up four flights of stairs was not his smartest move today. Though, in his defense, he hadn’t expected to get winded just from that. In any case, he could hear voices now—which meant he was close.
Peeking out from the crack in the stairwell door, Cassian could see a relatively open room with two different levels of flooring. Judging by all the games and toys strewn about in the rubble, he could guess it was some kind of arcade. Not that that really mattered; he could see the villain now, and his back just happened to be turned.
Perfect.
Cassian jumped out from his hiding spot—quickly closing the distance between himself and the villain with the help of a [Shadow Dash]. The villain didn’t have any time to block the surprise attack and Cassian’s fist connected very satisfyingly with his face.
He could feel bone give way under the metal of the gauntlets coating his hands as the villain flew backward, colliding with the wall with enough force to crack it.
Man did it feel good to finally hit something hard. Cassian could tell he was going to enjoy this.
“Cassian, bomb! Look out!”
“Huh?”
Cassian looked down in time to see a small circular device rolling across the floor toward him. A moment later it exploded, sending him flying backward into a case—shattering glass with the impact. He sat dazed for a moment, struggling to catch his breath—suddenly very dizzy.
In the time it took him to regain his bearings, the other villain had recovered from his attack and had turned his attention back to the hostages, creating another small explosive in his hand.
Ears ringing, Cassian barely processed what he was doing—brain lagging behind his body as he stumbled to his feet, [Shadow Blade] forming in his hand. A moment later the room filled with a blood-curdling scream, shadow blade no longer in Cassian’s hand. The explosive the villain had created tumbled harmlessly to the ground as his arm went limp, hanging from the wall where it had been pinned by Cassian’s blade.
Shit! He hadn’t meant to cut the guy's arm off!
“You fucker! Die!” The villain screeched, readying another explosive in their remaining hand.
“Not this time!”
Cassian grabbed the villain by the shirt collar, using his own body weight to his advantage to slam the taller man into the ground as he snapped the bone in his arm. As Cassian threw himself on top of the villain to pin him better, he kicked away the bomb, letting it explode harmlessly a good few feet away.
“Hope you enjoy your new handicap parking spots.”
“Like hell I’m gonna let a little punk like you beat me! I’m the great Blaster! If I’m going down, you’re coming with me.”
“Cassian!”
“Shit!”
Cassian cursed, attempting to slash through the myriad of explosives suddenly between him and the body below him. The bastard was gonna kill them both!
He couldn’t stand—couldn’t get away.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Cassian tumbled off of the villain, kicking him away as the first few explosions triggered.
~~~
Cassian wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. He’d blinked and the next thing he knew he was staring up at a very blurry ceiling, ears ringing and head pounding.
Trying to sit up proved to be difficult as a large amount of weight was holding him pinned. Blaster. The other villain had somehow landed on top of Cassian when they’d fallen down to the lower level of the floor.
With a bit of effort, Cassian was able to throw the unconscious villain off. Dusting off the rest of the rubble, he sat up, coughing slightly. He frowned at the splatter of blood on his hand when the fit finally subsided.
“Cassian? Are you ok?” Moros suddenly blinked into view, looking worried.
“Y-yeah? I think?” Cassian rasped, triggering another fit of coughs followed by more blood.
Somehow he felt he should be a little more concerned by the fact that he was literally spitting blood, but another part of him felt it was perfectly normal. He had more things to worry about at the moment though. Namely: the hostages.
It took him a moment to actually get up on his feet—dizzy as he was it was hard to find his footing in the wreckage, but eventually, he managed to limp his way over to where the pair sat tied near the window.
“P-Please! Spare my child! Just take me! I beg you!” The mother cried out, struggling against her bonds as Cassian approached.
She and a young boy were tied to metal chairs by various ropes and a few untriggered explosives. He plucked off the circular devices and tossed them aside before moving to find where the ropes had been tied together. If he could help it, he didn’t want to cut them since he could use them to immobilize Blaster.
“U-um? What are you going to do with us?” The woman spoke up, voice thick with fear as Cassian crouched down to inspect the rope on her legs.
“Don’t move. I don’t want to cut you by accident,” Cassian ordered, slipping a claw between layers of rope.
The sharpness of it was surprising, slicing through like a hot knife through styrofoam. As her bonds slipped free, Cassian gathered up the rope in a bundle. He was halfway to standing before a different thought occurred to him.
He offered the bundle to the woman.
“Here. Take this and go tie that guy up—“He pointed to where Blaster still lay on the floor—“you aren’t hurt right?”
“No, no I’m not. Ok!” The woman grabbed the rope bundle and scampered off to do as he’d asked.
As she left, Cassian turned to the younger boy who was peering at him with a strange mix of fear and curiosity.
“Alright, bud, let’s get you out too, huh?” Cassian smiled at the child, scooting himself across the floor so he could reach the kid's bonds.
“T-thank you, mister.”
“Nah, don’t thank me. I’m a scary villain, you gotta stay clear of us, you know!”
“You don’t seem too scary to me! Not like that other guy!” The boy grinned. “You beat him up and saved us!”
“Nah, he totally deserved that! Aaaaaand, there we go! Freedom!” Cassian smiled, pulling loose the last of the rope.
He sat up as the kid jumped down from the chair. From what he could tell, the boy didn’t seem injured either. Good.
“U-um, I finished tying up that villain like you asked. What should I do now?” The woman spoke up, eyes darting between Cassian and the child.
“Perfect—” Cassian placed a hand on the young boy’s shoulder, gently nudging him toward his mother—” I’ll deal with him. You two should stay put until the psykers arrive; there’s a lot of glass around.”
“Er—you are a villain, right?”
Cassian blinked, surprised by the question. He’s gotten so stuck in his usual work that he’d completely forgotten one little factor.
“Technically?”
Right. Technically. He wasn’t a psyker anymore—he was a villain and from an outside perspective anyone would think he was strange. It was a lot of a headache and he didn’t want to think about it. Those psykers better hurry the hell up so he can go home and nap. God knew he needed it.
Speak of the devil and you shall receive as they say; shortly after the thought occurred, Cassian picked up the sound of footsteps from the stairwell nearby. Perfect.
Except not so perfect as the first psyker didn’t even bother to check for traps, instead opting to simply sprint in yelling and immediately tripped one of the lingering bombs.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Cassian yelled, throwing up a shadow blade to block the explosion as he shoved the two civilians behind him.
“Unhand the hostages, villain scum!” the yellow-clad psyker stood, adjusting his glasses as he pointed a sword at Cassian.
Surprisingly, he didn’t seem very damaged for having just taken an explosive to the face; maybe they weren’t as potent now that they were old? That or the psyker was just tanky, but judging by how stupid he seemed so far, Cassian was betting on the bombs being old.
“One: they’re not hostages—well, not anymore—and two: no I’m not gonna let them go over there when there’s literally bombs lying around. Are you crazy?” Cassian pointed a clawed finger at the staircase between them that very clearly had several leftover explosives scattered across it.
“Save it, scumbag! I’m not gonna fall for your tricks!”
“Trick? Are you dense? Did you not hear anything I said?” Cassian groaned, squinting at the psyker. For some reason, his vision was starting to get blurry.
A side effect of tanking all those explosions earlier? No matter, he could still fight—though he would rather the dumb Psyker would just listen to him.
“Got you now, you bastard.”
“Huh?!”
A chill shot up his spine as Cassian suddenly picked up on the presence behind him. He turned in time to see the man swing, but not soon enough to avoid the blow.
Cassian stumbled backward, falling back against a pillar to steady himself, side steadily leaking blood down his leg from the fresh wound. It wasn’t fatal, but damn did it hurt like a bitch.
“NOW UCHAN!”
“Are you kidding me?!”
Cassian let out an exasperated groan as a second psyker jumped out into view, red flames sparking to life in his hand. Cassian managed to throw up two shadow blade shields as the redhead launched his flare of fire, igniting the rest of the explosives littering the floor.
The small room was soon filled with dark smoke and an ocean of noise; the remaining explosives erupted with enough force to shake debris loose from the ceiling and threw him off balance with the tremble of the floor. Cassian took advantage of the momentary confusion and the blindness of the two psykers to make a dash for the door. He made it as far as the first three steps before losing his footing in his haste.
The impact of falling down the remaining half-flight left him dazed, struggling for breath as a fit of coughs shook him. He wasn’t sure if it was from the smoke or the fall but fuck did his head hurt.
“Cassian, get up, quick! Those psykers—”
“‘M workin’ on it, ass.” Cassian huffed, grabbing for the railing to pull himself up.
One look at the stairs below him sent his stomach churning. He really didn’t want to climb down all of those. Jumping would work though, right? Sure, it was only three and a half flights, he could make that!
Spoiler alert: he could not make that.
Misjudging the shadow distance, Cassian jumped out a little too high, earning himself a face full of floor as he fell for the second time. Every bone in his body screamed in protest as he forced himself up to his feet. As much as he would rather live on the floor forever, Cassian was not too keen on getting arrested for something he didn’t do, and the psyker pair above him really seemed keen on beating him up.
Cassian didn’t even realize he was outside until he felt the cold night breeze against his wounded side. The sting brought him back to awareness.
“Cassian?”
“Hm?” Cassian spared a glance for the ghost above him, learning in the process that at some point he’d sat down.
How he managed to get himself on a roof in the condition he was in was beyond him, but he was grateful to at least have a chance to rest.
“You probably shouldn’t linger too long; those psykers might come looking for you,” Moros spoke, a worried glint in his eye.
“R-right, just—I need a minute.”
Cassian groaned, pressing a hand to his wound. Fuck did it hurt. Hell, everything did. His head, his chest, his lungs, his side, hell, even his feet hurt. It would be a miracle if he got anywhere anytime soon.
After a few minutes, his vision stilled enough that he was able to stand without immediately throwing up. Using various objects and walls to support himself, Cassian made his way to the edge of the rooftop. He peered up at the one next to him, struggling to gauge the distance through the fuzz in his eyes.
He managed to pop off the shadow skill easily enough—that is to say, he made it to the other side and didn’t plummet to his doom—and he made his way slowly to the other end of the building. There was some vague sense of familiarity to the direction he was going, but Cassian couldn’t quite place why until he was actually face-to-face with the building he’d been aiming for.
Gangu’s apartment.
Cassian barely managed to make it up to the balcony—and over it—landing heavily on the deck panting and gasping for air. All of a sudden everything seemed to crash down on top of him. The headache, the stab wound, the chill in his chest—he couldn’t breathe. His trembling hands refused to support him as he tried to sit up. At the very least, he could get himself inside, right? He could sleep inside, he just had to get there.
He didn’t have a chance to even try the door handle as it suddenly flew open with enough force to create an audible bang as the screen slammed against the wall.
“Oh, hey Yuri.”
“Gangu, what the fuck?”