GLITCH

He blinked. Confused, maybe just as confused as the woman standing only a few meters away from his desk. 

“Why are you saying that?” 

“What?” came back his sudden response — a question that slipped too fast for him to actually think it through. 

It was a joke. He hadn't meant anything bad by that, Sylus wouldn't use this kind of petty behavior to get the upper hand on someone, not when it involved his darling. 

So why was she so surprised? And… upset? 

She stood there, unmoving. One deep breath in and she seemed ready to talk, to explain, but the words died on her tongue. The huntress gulped. 

“My beloved,” he started in a low, gentle tone. “What's wrong?” 

“You know I didn't mean it like that, right? When I mentioned Mephisto. And leaving you alone.” 

Sylus blinked. Of course he knew, why would he think otherwise? 

Why would he think otherwise? Why? Just, why? 

(She noticed. She saw him zone out, she saw his eyes get duller with each second.) 

There was a high chance they really were sharing a soul. When she stepped closer, Sylus barely noticed. The moment her proximity settled in his brain, he almost flinched. 

(She was his biggest vulnerability. His one and only.) 

Sylus tensed. His fingers gripped at the armrests of his chair. A knot formed in his throat. She was close and for once, for once, he didn't know how to perceive that. His tired brain didn't know how to handle it, the worry in her eyes, her gentle gestures, the way she looked at him with so much adoration shining on her beautiful figure.

(There were times when he lost himself in his gruesome reality, times when the blood on his hands felt like sin and not duty only. There were times when he felt undeserving of certain kindness, when it felt wrong to receive it. They were rare and he found it hard to understand them — the only thing he was running from, sometimes. 

Of course, the most powerful humans acknowledge their greatest fears. Yes, they do, but there were times when it was too much, times when he didn't want to solve his broken heart, times when he just let the broken pieces remain broken. Sometimes out of ignorance, sometimes because he was annoyed with himself. 

Like now. He was annoyed with himself. Why was he upset that they've barely got to spend time together? They were both busy, it was to be expected. Why was he sad? Why did it feel cold again for a little while? 

It was cold. That office had grown so cold without her in the past month. It's been lonely. Loneliness started scaring him again, so he shut that thought down until that very moment, when it came back and bit him by the heart.) 

“You've been zoning out a lot lately,” she hummed. 

He blinked the fog away. The worry in her eyes didn't falter. Ever present, somehow always alive. Her worry, her love. (So why be sad?) 

Even from a small distance, she managed to lightly resonate with him. A pull in his chest, gentle, a soft pressure into his beating heart. Present in every crack of it. That's when his body relaxed — her hand cupped his cheek. (He didn't notice how tense he had been these days until then.)

Her thumb brushed over his cheekbone in slow circles. Sylus moved his hands, hesitantly placing them on her hips as he brought her closer, between his parted legs. 

“I'm just worried because… it's not the first time I hear something similar from you.” 

This time, the confusion didn't feel like an attack. He just hummed and watched as her gaze followed the lines of his nose and chin, his jawline, the collar of his shirt. 

“You've called me once — thrice, actually — and you seemed sad that I didn't pick up. You seemed worried, too.”

“I told you—”

“It matters to me, Sylus,” she interrupted him in a gentle tone.

I told you there's no need to be sad about my random moods. 

“It matters. When you're sad or worried, not only when you're content with business meetings. Every part of you matters to me.” 

Sylus would've rather averted his gaze, but he couldn't, not when love shimmered like a palpable flame. It burnt, it arched and bended in his direction, yet it never burnt him. It was gentle. Like her touch, like her voice, like her words. 

Her other hand touched his neck, cupping the hot flesh in her palm. 

“You also didn't seem fully yourself these days. And I didn't want to prod too much, I didn't want to be a bother.” She ripped the skin of her lower lip with her teeth. 

His hand shot out and pressed against her lip. The gesture stopped her anxious habit for a while. 

“You are never a bother to me.” 

“I'm glad to know that.” Oh, how sweet of a smile that was, shattering and putting him back together. 

“I didn't want to prod,” she continued, “but it's hard not to notice. You know, you probably think you have it all under control, but,” a broken chuckle escaped her mouth, “it's pretty obvious to me. I see you, even when you think I don't.” 

Stylus had never known how much he needed to hear those words. It was a need he hasn't realized yet, but when she said it like that, it hurt him. It ached. 

The huntress held his face in her palms and bent at the waist, kissing his forehead. (He always finds a reason to do that, but she rarely gets the chance to bestow upon him the same gentleness that comes with a forehead kiss). 

“Sometimes it scares me.” She took in a sudden breath, almost shocked by her own statement. “The way you phrase it, I mean.” 

“What scares you?” because he didn't understand what she meant by that. 

The “being left alone” part? 

“It scares me that you might not see just how much I love you, Sylus. It scares me, because I love you and I want you to know that, always. Even when things go to shit, I love you. I don't want you to ever believe otherwise, because that'd be a lie.” 

Something within him shattered. Loudly. The shards flew into the walls, they sank in the wooden desk, they broke the windows. It was loud in his head. 

She bent again, this time leaving a kiss in between his eyebrows. 

“I would never let go of you, not willingly. I'd curse the world and I still wouldn't let go. You're mine as much as I am yours.” 

Sylus didn't know he needed to hear that come so clearly out of her mouth. It soothed a raw, open wound, it soothed in ways no one but she could've done it. 

He felt his beloved curl her arms around his shoulders, one of her hands petting his hair. 

“Alright?” she whispered. 

“Alright.” A jagged voice, cracking. But it was still an answer. 

So she held him tighter as he hid his face in her neck, breathing deeply into her scent. 

Raindrops dripped from the edge of your umbrella as the elevator climbed toward the highest floor of the Onychinus headquarters. Silence accompanied you, apart from the occasional patter of the raindrops falling onto the marble beneath your shoes.

The elevator chimed softly before the doors slid open. You lowered your umbrella and stepped inside the comforting, familiar space, with a paper bag of freshly baked pastries swinging lightly from your hand. You had passed your favorite bakery on the way over, and knowing that Sylus had the habit of forgetting meals whenever he got too busy, you made a small detour. 

Over the past year and a half, you and Sylus had gotten accustomed to each other's habits, and you bringing random foods from your favorite places was nothing unusual for him.

You slipped off your shoes by the entrance and made your way inside. 

“Welcome home, Miss!” Luke’s face brightened as he emerged from the kitchen. 

“Hi, Luke.” You placed your bag on the coffee table before slipping out of your damp coat. “I brought some pastries.”

“Whoa! Thanks, miss.” Luke leaned over the paper bag and took one croissant. “You’re my favorite person, Miss,” he added.

“You always say that whenever I bring something delicious.” You retorted, plopping yourself down on the huge, comfortable sofa in Sylus’ living room. 

“But it’s true!” 

“He just wants more food, Miss,” Kieran remarked without looking up from the tablet in his hands. 

Luke looked at him, feeling offended. “I appreciate kindness.” 

“You appreciate free food.”

A chuckle escaped your lips as you started unpacking some of the pastries onto a plate. “Have some too, Kieran.”

“Thanks, miss.” He said, placing down his tablet for a few moments. 

“By the way, where’s Sylus?” You leaned your head against the backrest of the sofa. 

“Boss? Oh. He left over an hour ago,” Luke said. 

“He said something urgent came up,” Kieran added. “He was in too much of a hurry.” 

You tilted your head slightly. “At this hour?” 

Neither of them answered immediately, and Luke rubbed his back. Upon seeing their reactions, you just nodded your head.

“I see.”

Silence overtook the atmosphere for a while.

It was not unusual for Sylus to disappear unexpectedly, especially in his line of business. You were aware that the enemies who wanted him dead did not wait for convenient hours to cause a problem. 

On the other hand, you would not deny the feeling of anxiety that crept in every time he disappeared without a word. There would be a few times when he would inform you that he had some ‘urgent business’ to attend to and that he would be back. When you asked him specifics, he would give the most basic information and leave. 

To you, Sylus rarely spoke about the deeper matters of the Onychinus unless it directly concerned you, and you understood that there were parts of his world you were simply not meant to step into. And for that, you would not deny that you sometimes felt bitter.

You reached for your phone on the coffee table and tapped his name from your recent calls, at least hoping he would answer.

The line rang once, twice, and thrice, but there was no answer. And even though you were patient enough to wait for a minute, you were met with nothing but a failed dial tone. You stared at the screen for a few seconds before lowering it to your lap. 

“Boss man must be occupied,” Luke said, trying to reassure you. “Pretty sure he’ll call in a hurry when he sees your missed calls.” 

“Probably.” Your voice remained calm, but your fingers traced the screen of your phone anxiously.

Almost forty minutes had passed. While the twins were doing their business, you kept checking your phone every few minutes, hoping to receive a message from your lover. 

You glanced at the clock. It was almost nine-thirty in the evening. Then, you glanced back at your phone. Surely, one more call would not hurt. 

You pressed the call button again, the familiar ringing accompanying the silent atmosphere. And much to your disappointment, there was no response from the other line.

“He could have at least had you two to accompany him,” You sighed heavily, a crease forming between your brows as you placed your phone on your side.

Luke instinctively answered without thinking. “Oh! But Miss MC is accompanying him.”

The words settled in the room with a surprising weight.

“Boss man said that he needed her for the mission,” Kieran looked up, as if thinking of something.

Luke nodded in agreement. “It seemed like he didn't really have a choice, though.” 

“I see.” You murmured. 

Sylus needing her was reasonable. You knew about MC’s skills and abilities. And although both of you were hunters, she was ahead of you in terms of years of experience. However, you also knew that Sylus would not involve anyone unless they had a purpose. 

And even though you tried to silence your mind, thoughts came flooding in.

Was the mission that dangerous?

When are they coming back?

Are they safe and sound?

Was he hurt?

You swiftly shook your head to push the thoughts aside. All you could do was exhale heavily and close your eyes.

He'd be fine— is what you told yourself. He is Sylus. He always came back. 

The words became a habit over the past year and a half, a reassurance that no matter the circumstances, Sylus would come back despite walking into danger. 

Luke eventually wandered into the kitchen to make coffee, humming softly to himself as if to ease the heaviness in the air. Kieran returned to the tablet resting on his lap, though every now and then, he often glanced at you, worried about your uneasy expression. Sometimes, he would glance at the elevator too. 

None of them had to say it aloud, but they were waiting too. 

The pastries remained untouched on the coffee table. The buttery aroma that had filled the room earlier had long since faded into the air.

You unlocked your phone how many times? You could no longer count. And yet, your messages were still empty. 

“Luke, Kieran.” You sat straight. “Is it possible for you to take Sylus’ tracks? We can at least—”

Before you could continue, a soft ding shot through your body.

You, Luke, and Kieran looked at the elevator in anticipation. Luke stood on his feet. “Boss?” 

You saw the familiar figure of your lover, and for a brief second, relief washed over you. 

Then it disappeared.

Sylus’ body sagged as MC supported his weight. Luke immediately ran towards him, taking one of his arms over his shoulder. Kieran moved just as fast, supporting his other side.

A deep red stained Sylus’ shirt, though the flow seemed to have seeped more slowly. Some of the deeper cuts along his neck and collarbone were visibly mending themselves closed in uneven lines. 

“What happened?” Your eyes locked on MC, whose clothes were stained with dirt and whose arms were marked with dried blood.

“Although we have accomplished the mission,” she paused. “... it was too difficult.” She tore the ripped fabric on her shirt and used it to stop her wound from bleeding. “He has overexerted his energy this time.” 

You stepped forward immediately to assist Sylus, taking his weight off of Luke and Kieran. “Luke, get the medical kit from the cabinet. Kieran, can you go clean the bed? Just in case we move him there later.” 

“On it, Miss!” Luke and Kieran moved in hurried steps, immediately disappearing from your sight. 

As soon as the two vanished from your sight, your gaze snapped back to Sylus. 

His eyes were half-lidded, unfocused. He lifted his head, and as soon as his gaze met yours, a small smirk formed across his lips. “Sweetie,” he rasped hoarsely. 

The endearment should have calmed your heart. But instead, it added to a surge of an unfamiliar feeling inside your chest. 

You looked away and started to guide Sylus towards the sofa. “MC, go sit on the sofa. Let’s get your wounds treated.” 

“Oh no. This is just a graze. I will go to Akso Hospital right after this,” she replied. “I am sorry for everything that happened.” She wrapped her wound with the clothing and sighed. 

“It’s alright,” you quickly replied, taking off Sylus’ clothes carefully.

Luke immediately handed you the medical kit, and you quickly took a gauze from it. Seeing you scrambling, MC’s gaze lowered with guilt. 

“I’ll be going,” she said. 

“Miss MC, are you sure you’ll be alright?” Luke asked. 

MC offered him a reassuring smile. “Yes. I'll be fine.” 

Kieran came back in long strides, looking towards MC. “I'll escort you downstairs, Miss.” 

Before leaving, MC looked at you once more. “I am sorry again. Please take care of him.” 

“I will.”

The elevator doors slid shut behind her.

Silence settled over the penthouse once again. 

After a while, Luke stood up and left, then returned with clean towels and a basin of warm water. Kieran, who had just come out of the elevator after escorting MC, exchanged anxious looks with his twin, feeling the tension in the air. 

Without a word, you continued cleaning Sylus’ wounds. You were at least thankful enough that he had a bit of energy left that helped slowly close his wounds. 

Meanwhile, the latter stared at your face. 

“Sweetie,” he called, voice barely above a whisper. 

You did not respond. 

Luke and Kieran exchanged looks with one another again and distanced themselves from the two of you, pretending to be doing their own business. 

You wrapped the bandage around his abdomen carefully, encircling the layers above one another until it covered his healing wound.

“How cold. I am all wounded, and all I get from my sweetie is a silent treatment,” He sarcastically said, watching you roll the unused gauze. 

Luke and Kieran, who were listening at a proximal distance, felt nervous upon hearing nothing but your silence. 

It was very uncommon of you to stay silent during these matters.

Whenever Sylus came home wounded, you would have usually scolded him. You would have told him to stop smirking, and would have told him to stop pretending that he was not in pain.

You stood up from your seat and grabbed the medical kit, preparing to return it to the cabinet. 

However, with his remaining strength, Sylus reached for your hand. As soon as you looked at him, you saw an unusual expression on his eyes— uncertainty. 

“Leaving already?” Sylus’ voice was rough from exhaustion, with a hint of amusement. “Since when does a doctor abandon her patient halfway through the treatment?” 

You lowered your gaze to where his hand rested around your wrist. 

“The treatment is finished,” you said flatly. 

“Hm? I'd argue otherwise.” He pulled your body a bit closer. “Is it too selfish for a patient to request that the doctor observe him a little longer?” 

Your heart rang in your ear, but you were not flustered. Your heart beat fast, but not because you felt giddy.

Were you a joke to him?

Is this entire situation amusing to him?

An unusual sensation weighed on your heart— something heavy, something explosive, as if it was going to burst any moment. 

You swiftly loosened your wrist from his hold.

You swallowed. “If you have that remaining energy to talk,” You attempted to steady your trembling voice. “Why don't you use that to let your Evol fully close your wounds and walk yourself to bed?” 

You picked up the medical kit, and in your other hand were the stained clothing and towels. You dropped the fabrics in the water basin and walked away without looking back. 

A frightening silence followed. 

Sylus knew you were upset. There was no mistaking it. Not because you raised your voice a little. Not because you answered back sarcastically. If anything, it was the complete opposite.

You were too quiet. 

For a year and a half, Sylus had come to know every version of you. The crybaby who shed tears with every gift, even with the smallest ones, the flustered one who often gets shy with his assertiveness, the gentle one who caressed his wounds softly, the stubborn one who insisted on staying awake until he came home even when it was late—

And the worried one, who always scolded him first before tending to his wounds.

But tonight, he did not see that version of you. 

You did not lecture him. There was no scolding, no complaints about his recklessness. He only heard silence. 

The silence gave way for an unfamiliar feeling to form in his chest. And for the first time in his life, he could not read you.

Sylus’ eyes lingered on the hallway where your figure disappeared. He could simply stand up and go after you, corner you in the kitchen, explain himself, and pull you close until what bothered you had subsided. 

But as much of a jerk he was, he respected your personal space. He knew you would be angrier if you were provoked further. 

He knew you well enough to understand one thing. When you were ready to talk, you would. And if you were not, no amount of teasing, coaxing, or shameless flirting would change your mind, especially tonight. 

Sylus decided to let you cool off. Then perhaps tomorrow would be a better time. Perhaps by then, he could explain why MC had to accompany him and the circumstances that forced him to overexert his energy.

Although no conclusion could ease the crease in his brow and his restless thoughts, the fatigue in his body began to take its toll. He was tired enough not to bother standing on his feet and head to the bedroom.

Sylus told himself he would rest only a few minutes, just long enough for his strength to recover. Afterwards, he planned to come find you in the bedroom, lie beside you in comfort, and pull you in his arms.

Soon, the remaining ache and the exhaustion lulled him to sleep. 

A soft, comforting warmth jolted his body awake, feeling a fabric press against his collarbone. His brows drew together as his consciousness slowly returned.

The blanket draped over him was tucked neatly around his bare body, shielding him from the cool air that had settled over the penthouse overnight. Slowly, he pushed himself upright, the blanket falling off his body. Instinctively, his gaze swept across the living room. 

“Sweetie.” The words slipped from his mouth unconsciously. His eyes wandered, looking for you. 

Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching. Luke greeted him, and Kieran followed behind. “Afternoon, Boss—” 

“Where is she?” He cut off with a sharp tone, making the twins flinch.

The twins looked at each other for a brief second before Luke spoke. “Miss left early this morning.” 

“She said she was heading to work,” Kieran added. 

Without another word, he reached for his phone resting on the coffee table and immediately searched for your contact. Alas, it rang, but the line abruptly ended. Frowning, he pressed the call button again. 

‘The number you are trying to call is busy right now. Please try your call again later.’

He clicked his tongue, and his jaw clenched. 

He knew he fucked up.

The walk home felt longer than usual. 

Your mind was in a daze the entire time. The rustling and noises of the street merely echoed in the background. Even during your work hours, you could barely focus on the Wanderers you fought, and even after that, your colleagues approached you to ask if you were okay.

And just like usual, you pretended. You pretended to smile like everything was fine. You pretended to breathe alright, even though your chest kept tightening whenever you thought of Sylus.

By the time you reached and opened the door of your apartment, the usual silence greeted you. 

But you immediately sensed a presence amidst the silence. 

"You certainly know how to make someone work for an audience, sweetie." You saw Sylus sitting on your couch with his legs crossed, tossing a coin on his fingers. 

Your breath hitched as you stared at him, frozen in place. After a second, you immediately turned around, reaching for the doorknob. Suddenly, a dark crimson spread across the lock, sealing it before disappearing. Your hand stiffened, realizing that there was no way out. 

“Not so fast, sweetie.” You heard the shifting sound of your couch, and slow footsteps approaching you from behind. “We’ve only seen each other for a second, and you’re already trying to leave? Talk about making your man feel unwelcome.” The footsteps stopped as you felt his figure towering over you. 

You gritted your teeth and clenched your fists, remaining unmoved from your position. 

“I think I’ve earned at least five minutes of your time, sweetie.” 

The room fell silent. 

Sylus watched your back, waiting for you to turn around and scream at him and punch him. But seconds had passed, and none of it came. 

And then he noticed it. Your shoulders trembled.

Sylus’ calm expression immediately turned into a frown. Without wasting another moment, he reached for your shoulder lightly. When you did not refuse his touch, he gently turned you toward him.

The moment your face came into his view, his breath immediately hitched, and his eyes widened. 

You were crying. 

As soon as he saw your eyes, the pieces finally fell into place. You were not just crying because you were angry and frustrated. You were hurt.

You swallowed hard, but the effort to stop your tears only made more spill over. You parted your lips slightly, attempting to speak— but nothing came out. 

Sylus gently slipped his arm beneath your knees, and his other arm supported your back, lifting you close to his arms. 

You wanted to fight it. You wanted to push him away. But you simply could not. You were tired. 

The couch dipped softly beneath you as he sat you down carefully, as if he was holding something fragile. Then, Sylus lowered himself to one knee, gazing at your eyes softly. 

“Sweetie, it’s all my fault.” His voice softened, and the usual smugness in it disappeared. His hand reached for your cheeks, then to your eyes, brushing away the tears that kept spilling. 

You let out a bitter laugh. Your trembling hands slowly rose to wrap around his wrist. Then, you gently lowered his hand away from your face. 

“... Am I that incompetent, Sy?” You said in between trying to catch your breath. 

“What?” Sylus flinched from the question, his brows knitting together. “No, sweetie—” 

“Am I really that incapable?” You cut him off. “So incapable that the only place you think I belong…” You paused, biting your lip. “... is somewhere far from your side?” 

“No, sweetie.” He reached to grasp your hand. “You’re mistaken.”

“Then why?” You raised your head, eyes locking with his. “Why is that what you’ve shown me?” 

Sylus' expression hardened. “Sweetie—”

“I have watched you leave through that door over and over again.” Your voice broke, your tone shifting into something much more vulnerable. “You would tell me that it’s just one of your dangerous missions.” 

You laughed bitterly. “I told myself it was enough. I told myself that loving you meant accepting that there are some parts of your world I could not step into.” Then your gaze lowered again. “But why does it feel like I was never meant to be a part of it at all?” 

Sylus opened his mouth, attempting to say something, but you interrupted him. “You trust Luke. You trust Kieran. You trust her.” Your voice cracked, tears threatening to spill again from your eyes. “But never me.” 

You gently pulled your hand away from him. “Why, Sy? Why do you only see me when things are easy? Why do you only think of me when things are comfortable?” You wiped your tears, but they kept spilling. 

“That is untrue, sweetie.”

Your breathing became uneven, and this time, your voice shook. “You trust her with your entire self, but you only let me see the parts of you that you think are safe.” 

As your head lowered, both of your hands covered your face, trying to cover the tears that kept falling. “Do you not trust me at all?”

Sylus caressed your cheek, trying to make you look at his eyes once again. “No. I trust you—” 

“Trust me in what?” You pushed his hand away, your voice rising. “Ah, right. You trust me.” Your hand ran through your hair. “You trust me in patching your wounds, you trust me in waiting for you.” You paused. “But you don’t trust me enough to stand beside you. Perhaps I am too weak.” 

“Do not go putting words in my mouth, sweetie. I do not view you as someone weak.” Sylus rasped. 

“Then what am I supposed to think?!” You stood up in frustration. “I am not some animal that needs to be hidden away, Sy.” You said as he slowly stood up, still staring at you. “I'm not something that belongs in a cage while you go out there and fight alone." 

Your hands clawed on the sides of your head as your voice stuttered in between sobs. “I never asked to replace her, Sy. I am not asking for her to stop accompanying you.” You hunched. “All I want to do is stand alongside you too.” 

You heard Sylus click his tongue. “Enough. You are hurting yourself.” Sylus walked towards you and pulled your hands away from your head. 

You weakly clutched his hand, giving his palm a desperate kiss. “Sy… Is it because she understands your world and I don’t?”

He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. “No, sweetie. You understand me more than anyone else.” 

You leaned against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around your waist as you felt the exhaustion slowly weighing on your body. “Then why, Sy?” You faintly asked. “It feels unfair. All I see are your smiles, your teasing, that flowery bullshit.” Your breathing slowed, gradually easing. “But someone else sees the rest.”

You raised your head and met his eyes. “Do you think that my love is superficial? Do you think that I’ll stop loving you if I saw the ugly parts?” 

After a few seconds of silence, you gently pushed him away. “It’s unbelievable. Your lover is right beside you, but your emergency contact is someone else.” 

“I know she's better than me in every single way. She's stronger, she's capable, she's smart.” You said, looking him in the eyes firmly. “That’s why I am giving you an out.”

Silence settled between the two of you. Sylus stared at you, and you could have sworn you saw his jaw clenched despite his unreadable expression. 

“...That’s not how this works, sweetie.” The words escaped from his mouth as a low exhale, and he shook his head. “I’d rather have you furious at me.” His voice dropped lower as he slowly walked towards you, making you step backwards. “Yell at me. Curse me. Shoot me. Rip my heart out with your own hands.” 

“But you don’t get to leave.” 

Before you could speak, Sylus swiftly slid one arm beneath your thigh, and his other arm supported your waist. 

A gasp escaped your lips as he effortlessly lifted you off the ground. “Sy—!”

“You’ve thoroughly cornered me, sweetie.” His voice remained calm as he walked towards the kitchen. “Now, at least allow the defendant to speak.” 

Within seconds, the two of you reached the kitchen island. He sat you down gently atop the smooth countertop, and with a flick of his finger, swirls of crimson and black materialized around the pitcher and lifted into the air. Then, Sylus smoothly caught the pitcher and poured water into an empty glass.

“Drink.” He said firmly, placing the glass in your hands. 

“I’m not—” 

“You’re dehydrated.” He gently brushed his knuckles against the dried tears on your eyes. “Or do you want me to make you drink?” 

You gulped and immediately took a small sip. After seeing you swallow, the tension in his shoulders eased. Then, he gently took the glass from your hand and set it aside. 

“To think that my woman would feel this small,” he sighed. “I am a most wretched man.”

Sylus lifted his hand and caressed your cheek. “I suppose I failed to remind you how impossibly high my standards are.” 

“It’s infuriating.” He brushed one stray tear that lingered on your cheek before letting his hand rest on your chin. “The most extraordinary woman I've ever met is sitting in front of me, convinced she's weak, convinced she's not enough.” 

A small, bitter smile formed across his lips. “Do you remember the first time we met?” 

You nodded. 

“You were the most stubborn woman I have ever met.” Sylus chuckled. “I warned you to stay away. Not because I doubted you, but because I knew what my world demanded of those who stood close to me.” 

He let out a sigh. “And yet, you followed me, told me that it was not my decision to make, just like the stubborn woman you are.”

“Why does that sound like an insult?” You frowned.

“Oh no, sweetie. I am complimenting you.” He cupped your cheeks and made your eyes lock in his. “You were also stubborn enough to save a child who was almost killed by a Wanderer, only to get yourself hurt in the process.” 

“I was just doing my job—”

“And strong enough to drag yourself to my base while you're wounded?” He said with amusement. “Sweetie, even I would pass out.” 

“You're lying. It would take at least twenty bullets before you'd pass out, Sy.” You slapped his hand away, as if you were upset. 

“I’d argue otherwise. If you shoot one bullet through me, I'd happily wager myself between life and death.” 

“What are you saying?” You pinched his nose. “Don’t say things like that so easily!” 

He let out a soft laugh. “... There she is.” 

You huffed and looked away from him. 

“I know that I am the cause of your suffering, sweetie. If I've been foolish enough to let that absurd thought take root in your head…” He planted a soft kiss on your temple, making you look back at him. “Then I'll be the one to erase it.” 

You blinked. “What do you mean…?” 

“I have never viewed you as someone weak, sweetie.” His voice remained calm, but firm. “I've seen what you're capable of.” 

“I've seen you stand your ground when anyone else would've run. I've seen you fight.” He paused. “I've seen you make impossible decisions without letting your emotions cloud your judgment. Under perilous circumstances, you're even more rational than MC.” 

He slowly brushed his hand against your wrist, crawling up to your fingers, and he intertwined his digits with yours. 

“Then… Why don't you allow me to stand beside you?” You asked with a confused, pained look.

“I do not want you to get hurt. You’re confusing the two.” He planted a wet kiss on the hand that intertwined with his. 

“I have walked into rooms with death eyeing me,” he said. “I’ve had guns pointed at my head. I've had flying bullets attempting to cease my life.” 

He then pressed his forehead against yours. “None of it is enough to shake me.”

He lowered his gaze to your lips. “But you're the one variable that slips out of my control.” 

You heard his uneasy breathing, making you trace your fingers against his arm. 

Never in your life have you seen the leader of Onychinus lose his control. Sylus always made sure that everything was precise, planned, and calculated. And yet, the man who was feared by everyone was weak like this in front of you?

“This life was never meant to be clean.” He let out a faint smile and pulled away. “Blood, enemies, the certainty that someone would always be waiting to put a bullet through my heart— I'd sooner let that blood stain my own hands than yours.”

You caressed his cheek and made him look at you. “Sy, I do not need my life to be clean. If my hands are to be stained with blood, then so be it. I do not want the safe. I want to be with you.” 

“Sweetie, if MC was hurt,” he paused. “I would temporarily retreat and tell her to get treated somewhere.” 

He buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“But if it had been you,” His jaw tightened. “The mission would've ended the moment you bled. The N109 Zone would've burned for all I cared.”

Your eyes softened.

Ah, the leader of Onychinus, who is usually calm and calculated, would burn the world all for you?

And here you thought that he did not trust you, that you were incapable.

“Sy…”

“My enemies are dying to get their hands on you, sweetie.” He softly kissed your neck, making you gasp softly. “You have no idea what I am willing to stake when your life is on the line.” 

You replied only with a soft hum and gently rubbed his hair.

“Yesterday, a group from the outskirts of the N109 zone brought information on you.” 

“What?” 

“They knew where you lived, your routine, and they knew you were with me.” His eyes darkened. “They were after the one they knew I wouldn't gamble,” he pulled away. “You.” 

Silence fell between the two of you. He crossed his arms. 

“I merely asked for MC’s assistance to wrap it up before they managed to reach you.” He shook his head. “If I had been a few minutes late…” 

“Sy, I was unharmed. That is what matters.” You gently reassured him.

“They detonated the entire structure. It seems I have overexerted myself trying to contain the collapse.” 

He met your eyes. And after a few seconds of analyzing you, he lifted you off the countertop. 

“Sy, you've been carrying me everywhere. I'm starting to think you'd be my personal wheelchair,” you said.

“Oh?” A smirk formed across his lips. “Sitting on me? You've just described a rather... appealing arrangement.” 

You punched his chest, but he didn't budge. “You crazy…” 

The two of you reached your bedroom, and he gently laid you on the bed. 

“You're exhausted.” He tucked the covers over your body. 

“Sylus, I…” You grasped his arm. “Will you at least— at least let me tag along next time? You told me that many of your enemies wanted to hurt me, and they hurt you. I wanted to punish them for that too.” 

He looked at you hesitantly before sighing. “As amends for my rather spectacular lapse in judgement,” he paused. “Very well. Congratulations, sweetie. You've successfully negotiated new terms.”

Your eyes lit up. “Does this mean I can get to join you from now on?” 

“Yes. And I will brief you before we do some business.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. 

“... Don't you think I will distract you there?” You worriedly asked. 

“From how breathtaking you are? Surely.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Why did I even ask?” 

He chuckled. “Now rest.” He said, pressing a light kiss on your forehead. “You’ve worn yourself out from crying.”

“And whose fault is that?” You puffed your cheeks. “I was communicating.” You lowered your hold from his arm to his hand. His eyes briefly looked at your intertwined fingers before a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. 

Without another word, Sylus slipped off his boots and climbed onto the bed beside you. The bed sank slightly beneath his weight as he comfortably settled on your side, opening his arm for an invitation. 

Your heart fluttered, and you scooted closer to him until your head found its place against his chest. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

The exhaustion you had long been carrying had finally settled over your body, and your eyelids grew heavier. 

You and Sylus had spent a year and a half believing that love could fill the spaces where words were absent. But perhaps your hearts were never meant to stay silent, for even the deepest love yearns to be heard.

Sylus lay beside you as the hunger soiled your slumber. For weeks, you hadn’t closed your eyes, and every time his warmth had lulled you to sleep, you’d awake mere hours later, gasping, wide-eyed, with beads of sweat clinging to your jaw.

You refused to fall back asleep. You only rolled away from his arms, ears falling deaf to his desperation, drowning yourself in work.

At work, you fell behind. Deadlines passed like wandering ships disappearing behind veils of fog. Your superiors yelled at you, ending their reprimands with the query—you used to be so diligent. What happened to you?

It was only months before you had been conveniently laid off, carved off like rotten flesh, a hindrance, a thorn by your coworkers’ sides. Sylus watched you take the news. Your reactions were dampened by the numbness; your bloodshot eyes stared at nothing.

You felt nothing because you felt everything at once.

Unable to return to the workforce by the courtesy of your fraying mental health, Sylus picked up the pieces you were too tired to. He could take care of you for your life—no, he most definitely would. But he knew how much you valued your autonomy, how much you enjoyed the fruits of your own labour, how brightly you smiled at your own achievements. You’d be cared for. You knew that much. But Sylus knew all too well how deep a scar that would leave in your heart.

That day, a chunk of you crumbled to the ground, powdered to fine dust.

Everything was meaningless.

Sylus had tried it all. Therapy, medication, his own unwavering love and attention. He had never missed a date, an anniversary, or your birthday. He had bought you everything you had once desired, everything you could ever need. He spoke to you softly, loved you wholly, serving himself on a silver platter for your consumption. And yet, you only fell further; neither faster nor slower, as if his means had had no effect at all.

Sylus watched as nihilism consumed you.

He watched it bleed out of your wounds. He watched it trickle down the gashes in your arms, the slits on your thighs, and the scar you’d left on your face. He saw it in your eyes, the emptiness, the pointlessness, overshadowing the fear in his eyes. As his hands fled to stop the bleeding, your eyes only looked at him as if you were already a corpse.

After that day, the day you nearly bled yourself to death, Sylus was never the same.

Something shifted within your lover. Some of his edges softened, but some of them dug into your skin.

Your meals never went unfinished again.

Meals were constructed with the patience of an engineer. Every meal was planned—the nutritional value was balanced, and the taste was enhanced. Every ingredient was deliberately added for your benefit.

You refused to eat, of course. No matter how enticing the smell, no matter how loud the grumble of your stomach, your body recoiled at its sight.

Sylus would understand and listen. He always had. He had once been patient, never breaching your boundaries, never doing something against your will.

But something within him had rotted ever since.

If only you’d stopped squirming and thrashing around in his vice-like grip, you would have heard his heart shattering as his hands forced your mouth open, gently pushing in a forkful and guiding you to chew.

“I know,” he cooed, prying your jaw open, “I know, sweetie. Just a bite. I'm sorry.” Tears welled in his own eyes at the sight of your own. He patted your back as you retched, rubbed a path down your neck as you swallowed, pressing on the lump until it disappeared down your throat.

Even as he caged you, he held you with such gentleness that the prison began to feel safe.

After every meal, Sylus would place pills upon your tongue and rub soft circles into your back as he held the glass against your lips, urging you to swallow.

In bed, his arms would snake around you with remarkable strength. Never enough to hurt, but enough to keep you still, face firmly pressed against his chest, with nowhere to wander off to besides the realm of slumber.

Every night, he would lie awake, relishing in the gentle rise and fall of your chest, often soothing the dark bags drooping beneath your eyes, other times rolling your sleeves up to caress your scars. They were the remnants of his failure, the proof of his incompetence, and the driving force that led him down this path.

For how much longer could Sylus watch as you ruined yourself? How could he watch you inch towards death, uncaring and dazed, consumed by a force far crueller than any aether core, any greed, or any spite?

How could he let his mate sever her wings and bleed onto the blades of soft grass?

Could he ever forgive himself if he lost you again?

Two days later, Sylus moved you into his place.

On the same day, the people responsible for your layoffs had gone missing.

His room became yours. Though everything of his had always belonged to you. You did not protest as he moved your belongings into his place. You were tired, and you knew he wouldn’t listen.

Every gun had been sealed behind glass. Every weapon was kept out of reach, every sharp end dulled, every knife locked away in the kitchen. He trailed you throughout the house silently, just happening to emerge in spots you ventured to, coincidentally bumping into you as you strode through the hallways.

The rooftop had been shut off with large metal locks that wouldn’t budge. The windows had been locked. The glass was already bulletproof and unbreakable.

Sylus’s defences were impenetrable. Or so, he thought.

Every day as you slept, he rolled up your sleeves.

Not a day had gone by when he hadn’t discovered a new cut, a new bruise, or a new nick.

Each time, he bandaged it with care. His confidence decomposed. Slowly, Sylus found himself inching towards a madness none had returned from.

And the last straw, he found, was when you’d sauntered to the rooftop; feet planted upon the edge, peering down at the world through lifeless eyes.

That day, Sylus almost lost you again.

Whatever restraint remained died on that rooftop.

The windows were barred. The curtains were drawn. The doors were locked behind a code. Sensors lined every doorway. The cameras, some only accessible to him, granted you no privacy.

And the cruellest change of them all was not how his grip tightened, not how his voice softened despite the abuse, and not how his mere presence made you shudder beneath his warmth. It was the chain you didn’t notice softly slipping onto your ankle, shackling you to your room.

Sylus had lured you into a gilded cage, and you had walked in willingly, allured by its gleam.

You could no longer tell whether the restraints were real or metaphorical.

All you knew, all you saw, and all you breathed was him. His affection is now akin to a beast of voracity. His obsession, now submerging your head beneath the cold, unmoving waters. His possession, now you.

If your hatred, your tears, and your fear were a necessary consequence, Sylus would be willing to pay the price.

If that’s what you wished, he’d beg for your forgiveness for all of eternity.

But the shackles would not disappear. The control wouldn’t soften.

For a corpse cannot love or be loved.

And you would realise, of course, you would, one day, that all he did was for you.

But until that day, nothing would change.

As your lover cradled you in his arms, wiping away the tears rolling incessantly down your cheeks, grieving the freedom you once had, he pulled you into his chest and whispered, “I have clipped your feathers,” a kiss to your forehead, “I have broken your wings,” one to your jaw, “And I have bound your soul to mine.”

Sylus’s lips ghosted over yours.

“Don’t… leave me, my dove.”

And then, he captured your lips in a soft, devouring kiss.

“In every lifetime, stay with me until fate consumes our souls in its cackling flames.”

Your wings are gone.

There is nowhere to fly.

Honestly my main worry is the legal side of things as there was a VERY small but vocal group that got the Chinese state involved. I feel like the pressure was more political/legal than because of money.

Honestly this is messed up an all sides imo. This isn’t the first time that one of infold’s games got sent downhill due to political reasons. Lads’ predecessor (MLQC) had an issue in 2021 where one of the VAs was fired due to an accidental political message. I doubt he knew that what he said would result in him being fired, but Chinese laws would have destroyed the company had they not fired him. This drama resulted in a large percentage of people leaving the game and all of the VAs quitting the game (two in good graces with the company, two in bad graces) and being replaced. The game went steadily until they had to make the change to partial voice acting, but still did not make enough money. The game went EOS this March.

Right now, the issue, just like last time, is the lack of communication from infold. Rather than fully explaining their decision with something as simple as “Due to legal matters we cannot move forward with Valko” they try to keep it vague. Now the community is split between people blaming infold and people blaming the CN girlies when I feel like it’s more nuanced than that.

Yes infold is an greedy company but unlike most of their decisions this doesn’t feel like it was done purely because of money. Their office building was sent literal manure which is a huge health hazard and people were wishing death to them via the chrysanthemums. There were news reports on them, a detail in-game that was there for a while was suddenly the main point of attention. But they could and should have done more. Their PR team is shit

There are some CN girlies who are celebrating Valko’s removal, but others are grieving just like us. The people who harassed infold were very few, but even 10 can raise an eyebrow. Blaming all of them will be just as toxic and cruel when the vast majority are actual well adjusted people

Rather than placing the blame onto one group (CN Girlies, Infold, etc) it’s important for us to work together to try and solve this. Send emails, sign petitions, write posts, etc. Don’t spread hate.

But above ALL else make sure to focus on yourselves. I sincerely doubt this issue will be solved in the next 24h. If this really stresses you out then take a step back from social media (especially twt, it’s a dumpster fire over there. Saw one person call another brain dead for liking Valko and blamed both Valko and infold for all of this. I will not be including them in the sources to not cause unnecessary drama). Take care of yourselves, drink water, go to sleep, cry if you need to, engage in other hobbies, etc. Your mental health is more important than this game. If you can’t take action without worsening your own mental health then don’t

Lads will not reach EOS any time soon. They were able to keep MLQC running for 5 years, I know they’ll try their best to keep it alive from a functionality point of view.

Infold, if you’re somehow reading this, a small update could calm things down. Legally, idk how much you can say, but even a simple “Dear Hunters, We cannot discuss all of our reasons behind everything due to current legal matters. We apologize for any stress caused by our recent announcement. Here’s a code for (idk how much I personally think 50 pulls in dias in case ppl wanna spend it on something else)”. And if you can say more, PLEASE say more. The biggest issue right now is your vagueness tearing the community apart. We do not want a repeat of MLQC

Sources:

https://x.com/femvier/status/2071996190158155812?s=61

https://www.reddit.com/r/otomegames/comments/1rg7gnb/mr_love_queens_choice_end_of_service_announcement/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mr_Love:_Queen%27s_Choice

https://x.com/poissoness_/status/2071969818702684221?s=61

https://x.com/wintercyra/status/2071935580171067764?s=61

https://x.com/bytestix/status/2071599339068170662?s=61

https://x.com/hypocd/status/2071953915185189367?s=61

https://x.com/syluslove/status/2071946921359392987?s=61