Seoul – Broadcast Center Rooftop – 11:47 PM
The night air was cold and sharp, cutting through the thin fabric of Monarch's jackets. The city sprawled beneath them, lights twinkling like fallen stars. Somewhere below, a party raged, but up here there was only silence, broken by the occasional whisper of wind.
Monarch had arrived first, five points of tension radiating outward like a star about to ignite. Jiwon stood at the center, crown glinting faintly in the moonlight, eyes scanning every shadow. Zayn flanked him, posture rigid; Kai leaned casually against the railing, trying to hide the jittering energy in his limbs; Min hovered near the ledge, palms pressed together as if centering himself; EO crouched low, gaze flicking across reflections in the glass doors behind them.
And then they came.
Equinox stepped onto the rooftop as if the night itself had walked with them.
SOL was first, long coat brushing the wind, golden eyes flicking over Monarch like a predator sizing up prey—yet the weight behind his gaze was neither hostility nor warmth, but something sharper: recognition.
Behind him, JUNO's stance was protective, arms crossed, jaw tight. DARA's eyes flickered with curiosity and mischief, studying Monarch as if each of them were a puzzle to unravel. RIEN held his notebook, pen poised, absorbing details with quiet precision. NOX bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, excited, oblivious—or willfully ignoring—the tension.
Jiwon's pulse throbbed at the sight of SOL. The charm under his sleeve hummed faintly, reacting to Yul's energy in ways that made the air between them almost shimmer.
"REX," SOL said, voice low, deliberate. "You brought your… family."
Jiwon's lips pressed into a straight line. "And you brought yours," he replied, tone flat but sharp. His hand hovered near the belt buckle where the blade rested. Not as a threat, but as instinct.
Zayn's eyes narrowed. "What's your intent here, SOL?" he asked, voice even but cold.
Yul didn't flinch. "Observation. Curiosity. And perhaps… to see how far a hunter will go before he bends."
Min's hands twitched. He felt the pull almost immediately—a vibration beneath the skin, like water resonating with a distant storm. He swallowed hard, stepping closer to Jiwon without breaking eye contact with SOL.
Kai's grin was forced, almost a shield. "Observation, huh?" he muttered. "I think that's generous."
EO's fingers tightened on the railing. He could feel the energy threading between the two leaders, invisible yet undeniable. Each microexpression, each tilt of a head, was loaded. He recorded it all silently in his mind.
SOL tilted his head, almost imperceptibly, and let his gaze linger on Jiwon. For a heartbeat, the night itself seemed to hold its breath.
"You've changed," Yul said softly, his eyes golden flames in the dark. "Closer to your… potential than I expected."
Jiwon didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice calm but edged: "And you've grown reckless. Halban or not, your presence here isn't a courtesy—it's a warning."
SOL smiled faintly, enigmatic. "Perhaps. But sometimes the greatest danger is not a warning. It's… inevitability."
DARA laughed quietly behind him, almost nervous, almost thrilled. "They're… intense."
RIEN scribbled rapidly. "I've never seen energy like this," he whispered, to no one in particular. "Not in a stage. Not in life."
NOX hopped forward, ignoring the tension. "Guys! Are we gonna fight, or are we…?"
JUNO's hand shot out, gripping NOX's shoulder. "Shut up, Nox," he hissed.
Min glanced at Jiwon, then at Yul. The pull was undeniable—an invisible thread binding the two of them. "They're different," he murmured. "Not just power… something older. Something… awake."
Jiwon's eyes never left Yul. Every instinct in his body told him to act, to strike, to control—but something else whispered: curiosity, not violence.
SOL stepped forward another half-step. The faint glow of the mark beneath his collarbone pulsed subtly in the dark, just enough for Jiwon to notice.
"You feel it," Yul said quietly, almost a statement. Not a question.
"I do," Jiwon replied. "But don't mistake acknowledgment for weakness."
The wind picked up, swirling around them, carrying with it the faint scent of ash and night-blooming flowers. For a second, the rooftop was suspended outside reality. The city, the fans, the stage—they were all irrelevant. It was just Monarch, Equinox, and the invisible tether between two dangerous, golden-blooded forces.
And no one moved.
Because sometimes, the sharpest weapons are the ones held in silence.
The wind sharpened around them, tugging at coat tails and loose strands of hair. Below, Seoul throbbed with light and noise, but up here, it was as if the world had folded in on itself, leaving only Monarch, Equinox, and the taut thread stretching between two centuries-old instincts.
Jiwon's gaze never wavered from Yul. Every movement, every flicker of expression, was a challenge—yet also a revelation.
"You know why I'm here," Yul said, voice soft but deliberate, carrying over the gusts.
"I have a good idea," Jiwon replied evenly, jaw tight. "But curiosity doesn't excuse trespassing."
Yul tilted his head, gold eyes catching the moonlight. "Trespassing? Or claiming your territory? There's a difference."
"Only in intent," Jiwon said. "And I don't trust yours."
"You trust me less than I trust you," Yul observed, almost teasingly, a ghost of a smile brushing his lips. "And yet… you're still here."
Jiwon's fingers brushed against the silver charm hidden under his sleeve. He felt its hum—a pulse, faint but insistent. "I'm here because I need to understand you. Because I can't ignore what you are… or what you do to me."
Yul's eyes glimmered, unflinching. "And what am I doing to you, REX?"
Jiwon's jaw tightened. "Testing patience. Testing control. Reminding me that I'm… not invincible."
"Good," Yul said, stepping closer. His coat flared slightly in the wind, edges of the hidden mark beneath his collarbone flickering faintly. "You should feel that. Every hunter should know the weight of what they face before they swing a blade."
"And yet you don't fear me," Jiwon said, voice dropping, sharper now. "Why?"
Yul's expression softened for a heartbeat—just a flicker. "Because you're not like the others. You don't run. You don't flinch. You see me."
"Seeing you doesn't make me… whatever you want me to be," Jiwon snapped, almost too quickly, as if trying to convince himself.
Yul's gold eyes lingered on him, unblinking. "It's not about what you are. It's about what you feel. And you feel far more than you allow yourself to admit."
For a long moment, they simply regarded one another. The wind carried nothing but tension and the scent of ozone, faint metal, and something older—primordial.
Jiwon exhaled slowly. "If this escalates… if you draw me in… it won't end in starlight."
"And yet you would follow," Yul murmured, as though reading the thought forming behind Jiwon's eyes.
"I would," Jiwon admitted, carefully. Each word was measured, a dangerous truth. "Because there's… something in you I don't understand. Something I can't fight."
"Then we are both doomed," Yul whispered.
Jiwon's lips pressed into a thin line. He could feel the pull—magnetic, dangerous, impossible to resist. Behind him, Zayn shifted, a silent anchor. Min's hands twitched. Kai's jaw clenched. EO's eyes were wide. Yet none of them spoke. None dared.
Yul's smile returned, soft, almost shy, but still unsettling. "Maybe… it's not doom. Maybe it's just… recognition."
Recognition. The word hung in the air, heavy as blood.
Jiwon met his gaze. "Recognition doesn't mean trust."
"No," Yul agreed. "But it's a start."
The rooftop stretched out around them, the city lights indifferent. And for the first time, the hunter and the golden-blooded demon stood side by side, neither striking, neither retreating, each weighing the other like a blade in the dark.
And in that quiet, Jiwon realized:
He didn't want to leave.
And Yul… he didn't want him to.