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Chapter Text

He felt as though he was drowning. Sweat dripped down his pale skin as the sun’s rays burst through the window panes, casting a golden light across the crowded courtroom. The veil across the man’s face caused a slight haze to blur his vision, sweat building up behind the fabric that hid his identity from view.

He had a white and blue cloak tossed over his diamond armor to hide it; after all, diamonds were a rare resource on Yggdrasil. It was too stifling in the room, heavy between the body heat and sunlight, to be wearing the attire that he was, but it was for his own safety to hide in plain sight with the strongest military by his side. 

Saparata had been on the run from his home island of Pandora after his best friend had framed him for the murders of multiple prominent leaders. Jophiel, the Queen of Tricolor up until her untimely death, had asked Saparata to mediate the first meeting between all the established leaders. 

Although reluctant, he agreed to be a neutral party running the meeting. It went… about as smoothly as you would have imagined. Fluixon, his best friend and the second-in-command for the Luminara, a democratic nation located on the northern-most point of the island, had shown up in place of their president, 3BelowZero. And he… didn’t agree with many of the leaders.

Flux was under the impression that their neighboring island of Yggdrasil would invade them, steal their resources, and kill all of their citizens. Convinced of this notion, he made it his number one goal to convince everyone else of this and unite them against Yggdrasil.

Saps had stared at his best friend in shock, unsure of how to react. In the end, Flux was removed from his position as Vice President of Luminara and banned from any further meetings with the Leadership of Pandora.

And then… Jophiel was murdered. Tricolor fell into disarray. When he had received word of the tragic assassination, Saparata had been building his home in the forest of one of the Southern Islands alongside Flux and some other Luminarian citizens who had been assisting. Flux, knowing that Saps was a respected neutral party and friend to Jophiel, told him to go assist the city while they finished the home for him.

Because of the sudden change in leadership over Tricolor, a meeting was called between the remaining leaders, a meeting which would take place at the Saparata Residence. What he later realized was that while he was helping the citizens of Tricolor and Pandora, Flux and the rest of his crew built a trap in his roof. 

A trap that killed six high-ranking officials across the Pandoran kingdoms. And everyone thought Saparata was behind it.

And when he tried to clear his name, going through a trial hosted by the Commonwealth, he was found guilty and sentenced to death. It was by a miracle that he had managed to escape.

Hoping to find refuge in Yggdrasil, Saparata reached out to various leaders, hoping to exchange his safety for over 100 diamonds. Thankfully, the leader of the militaristic nation known as the Covenant, Turntapp, agreed to his proposal, bringing Saps to where he was now.

Attending a trial where the Covenant and Infernus were being questioned for the mass assassination of the Lingulina Mafia. 

Turntapp was on his left, shoulder brushing against his own. It seemed as though the man had a permanent frown on his face, always looking over his shoulder. It seemed as though most of the outside nations were more upset with Infernus than the Covenant, but many of Turntapp’s old citizens still had a grudge against the man, so you could never be too careful.

Looking around, there didn’t seem to be any powerful allies of Turntapp in the room. Schpood, the Emperor of Westhelm, hadn’t found an interesting reason to attend the meeting, so he had sent one of his diplomats, Bardun, in his place. Besides the Covenant, Bardun was probably the closest thing he had to an ally in the room.

Regal, a member of the Blue Cross that was assisting with the trial, shouted above the quiet murmurs of the courtroom, “Infernus is refusing to come in. They are afraid of traps.” Regal’s eyes immediately sought out Saparata, who shrank under the scrutinizing gaze. “They are saying outside or nothing.”

Turntapp grumbled, standing up in his seat, the fur of his coat ruffling with the movement. “I’m here, I’m alive. Let’s not be cowards about this whole thing, yes?”

The longer it took for Infernus to enter the venue, the more nervous Saps became. What were they planning? The sinking feeling in his gut was growing by the second. Something was going to happen… but to whom? Infernus? Turntapp? Himself?

Vitanam, one of the only remaining members of the Lingulini Mafia, had made it his life’s mission to avenge his brother’s death. Because the trial was getting more and more delayed, he began to freak out, shouting inane things, like he was going to pull all of his hair out.

Chaos began to slowly break out in the courthouse, with people standing up from their seats, walking in and out of the building, and shouting for Infernus to come inside or for everyone else to make their way outside.

Saps flinched when something hit his veil. Something wet. Something… dirty. The dark liquid hit the white fabric, staining it a murky brown with each drop. And that smell… god, that smell. It hit him like a truck. That same damp, musty smell that infected his home alongside the metallic scent of blood.

Dripstone.

One.

Two.

Three.

The dirty drops of water felt like teardrops raining down, muddied with betrayal and pain.

Everything felt as though it was thrown into slow motion, the world around him going quiet. He slowly looked up at the ceiling, dreading the worst, and his heart sank.

A hole had been carved into the ceiling, the wet remnants of a fresh stalactite poking through, ready to fall and take someone out. Someone being Turntapp or himself. The man above them, whoever he was, let go of the dripstone and let it fall through the ceiling.

And it was heading straight for Turntapp.

There wasn’t any warning. Any drama. Nothing. 

Before he could even think about what he was doing, Saparata slammed his body into his protector’s, knocking him to the side. 

The sharp spike pierced through his back, and he froze, the air rushing out of his body in a hollow, broken gasp. Dirt and grime and water clung to the stone, forcing their way past the open wound and into his traumatized body.

Fire ripped through his chest, every nerve and muscle and skin fragment screaming with agony. 

Was this how the Pandoran leaders felt? No… they had it simple, piercing straight through their skulls. A clean death. An easy death. But this? This was a slow drowning, each second feeling as though it was an eternity.

“What the–” Turntapp yelled in surprise, barely having managed to catch himself on the banister when the taller man crashed into him. “Oh my God…” 

Saparata’s body had collapsed onto the floor, chairs strewn about in the commotion. The piece of dripstone had missed Turntapp, instead puncturing itself through Saparata’s shoulder blade, shattering the bone inside, before tearing its way through his lung and ribs, and out the other side.

He tried to gasp for air. Oh, he tried and tried and tried. “T-Turn…” Saps couldn’t form words. Everything was fuzzy, as though all of his thoughts were lost behind a thick fog. He coughed, startling when he choked on the mucus that came out.

No… not mucus. Mucus wasn’t red. Red that immediately stained the pure white veil a deep and sickening scarlet color, sticking to his face. Oh. That was blood . 

Saparata’s lung, rather than filling with oxygen to help him breathe, started to flood with liquid. The veil clung to his mouth, hot and wet and sticky with blood, trying to smother him, but he didn’t have the strength to move.

He felt his vision start to fade, blood flowing out of his body, seeping into the beautiful white fabric that was his cloak. Now, it was riddled with evidence of an attempted, maybe a successful, assassination. 

I’m dying. I’m finally dying.

People were shouting, screaming, and running around him. But it was all muffled. Someone was tapping his cheek, trying to get his attention. Who? Everything was so, so blurry. 

Is this how he goes out? After evading death so many times? 

Death was painful… but…

Was it so bad?

Dying… to save a friend?

After everything that happened?

Meeting new friends…

Getting dragged into the politics of Pandora…

Comforting and bonding with Flux after his demotion…

Getting framed for the assassination of Pandoran leaders…

Going through a rigged trial and having to flee his home…

Finding Turntapp and joining the Covenant, even if temporarily…

Almost taking his life from the pain and trauma he endured…

Traveling to Westhelm and allying with Schpood…

Finally being able to live freely? Only to die beside dozens of people who hated him?

Just to save a friend?

Yeah. Saps was okay with that.

Chapter Text

Turntapp was getting tired of waiting around. Was Cynikka ever going to stand up and defend herself? Or would she cower out and run back to her volcano? He stood up from his seat, adjusting his collar impatiently. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he looked over at Saparata, who was currently his ward. The young man looked anxious, even though the veil obscured his face. His posture was tense, and he was looking around in an almost frantic manner.

It wasn’t unusual, he supposed. He had escaped the island of Pandora after being apparently framed for the multiple assassinations of leaders. Turntapp hadn’t even believed him at first, simply due to the massive amount of apparent evidence against the man. He had only taken him into the Covenant to get diamonds for his army.

But the more he talked to Saps… the more he truly believed that the man was innocent. He believed him enough to ruin the Covenant’s alliance with the Al Qarasina when the pirates were planning on killing Saparata. He could only imagine the horrors the man had gone through.

Saps had even temporarily disappeared after the pirates' incident, not knowing if he would be able to trust Turntapp and the Covenant. When he came back to them, he looked as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders, which, it kind of was. But, Saps was determined to clear his name.

When Saparata had arrived on Yggdrasil, he looked completely and utterly destroyed. Bags under his eyes, twigs and leaves caught in his luscious white hair, and clothing torn to shreds from the lengthy chase. He hadn’t slept in days, too anxious about being found and executed on the spot. The fact that he had practically fallen asleep on the walk to the Covenant was evidence of that.

As soon as they made it to the legendary city and into the palace, Turntapp led Saps to one of the guest quarters, where he quickly passed out from exhaustion. He made sure to take the dirty cloak off the man’s shoulders, tossing it on the chair in the corner. There was a chance it wouldn’t be able to be repaired, so he decided to commission a new cloak and face mask for Saps to use.

Since becoming an honorary member of the Covenant, despite many citizens’ complaints, Saps had slowly opened up about his experiences, including the betrayal of Saparata’s best friend. Turntapp had his suspicions that the two friends were… a little more than friends, based on how the white-haired man talked about him, but those were nothing more than suspicions.

He was quite literally shoved out of his thoughts when a blur of white overtook his vision, pushing him into the crowd. He had barely managed to catch himself on the banister in front of him. “What the—!” And then he saw what had happened.

The boy he had sworn to protect was curled up on the ground, eyes blown from shock. The pristine white and blue cloak that Turntapp had gifted Saps was quickly staining red, all from the origin of a large piece of dripstone sticking out from his body.

Was… was he almost just killed? And Saparata… might have just given his life to save him . Why?

“T-Turn…” He was gasping for air, a slight gurgle in his throat as Saparata began choking on everything and nothing. All of a sudden, Saps’ body spasmed, and he started coughing, blood spurting out of his mouth and hitting the white veil. It bloomed across the delicate fabric, sticking to the man’s skin, looking as though it was starting to suffocate him.

“Saparata! Hey! Kid!” Turntapp fell to his knees, staring at the scene in front of him. The stalactite was still dripping with dirt and grime, as though it had just been harvested from a nearby cave. 

His first instinct was to grab the piece of dripstone and remove it from his friend's body. It didn’t belong there. But years of prior military experience, seeing so many injuries, he knew that removing it would be a death sentence for Saparata. And Lord knows he’s received too many of those already.

He grabbed the veil, exposing the fugitive’s face for all to see. If no one knew Saps was there before, they certainly do now. Saps was normally a very pale person, at least for the short time that Turntapp had known him, but this was extreme. His skin practically looked paper white, a stark contrast to the bright scarlet blood slowly covering him. He tapped Saparata’s cheek, flinching at just how clammy his skin was.

His grey eyes were blown wide open, darting aimlessly. They were glassy, haunted by memories, by trauma, by emotions and pain. Blood had stained his lips and teeth, slowly seeping from the corner of his mouth every time he coughed.

“I need help! Please!” He ripped off his own cloak, tearing a strip of fabric to try and pack the wound, to slow the bleeding, and to stop air from rushing into the hole. But everyone was freaking out, evacuating the building. No one had stayed to watch the scene that broke out. All that remained was the most loyal member of the Covenant, Zynn, guarding their king. “Come on, Saps. Stay with me.”

Small whimpers began escaping his throat, likely from the intense pain, as his eyes continuously fluttered shut. Only one side of Saparata’s chest rose with every breath he took, heaving with effort as he tried to breathe out rattling, wet exhales. 

His head lolled as he groaned in pure agony, silver eyes rolling into the back of his head. “Keep breathing. You’re going to be okay. Just keep breathing, man!” Turntapp looked up at Zynn, the Head of the Peacekeepers, which was the alternate name for the Covenant’s military. “We need to get him to Westhelm.” As he spoke, he continued to quickly but efficiently wrap the wound. 

Zynn only nodded, motioning to take Saparata onto their back. “No, I’ll take him. I need you to work your magic and get us to Westhelm safely. The Covenant is no more. We are the only two left.” He paused before staring at Zynn. “I am eternally grateful for your loyalty to me, Zynn. I give my loyalty to you, as well.”

The normally quiet bodyguard paused before speaking some rare words. “Sir, the Covenant made me who I am. I would not be here without you. I shall be with you till the end.” They bowed, dark eyes staring through the diamond helmet. “Now, please, we must go.”

Turntapp nodded, securing the bindings of Saparata’s wound. It was still bleeding profusely, but it would at least buy them enough time to hopefully get to Westhelm without any incident. He wrapped one of his arms beneath Saps’ knees, the other carefully beneath his shoulders so as not to jostle the rock stuck within his body.

The man stood up, pausing when another harsh cough racked Saparata’s body, blood spurting out of his lips. He didn’t have much time.

A cloaked man suddenly appeared on his left, causing Zynn to startle and whip out their sword, holding it at his neck. “I mean you no harm. Please, take this for your friend.” The anonymous man held out a bottle filled with a red elixir, but what did it contain? “It is a temporary healing elixir. It will keep Saparata alive until you reach Westhelm.” As if to prove the flask didn’t contain poison, he took a swig, still managing to keep his face hidden.

“Thank you, Mr…?” Turntapp felt relieved as Zynn gently poured the potion down Saps’ throat, ensuring they didn’t cause more harm. But the man didn’t answer, only dashing away, and it wasn’t as if they had time to catch him.

The bleeding seemed to slow slightly, enough to make Turntapp breathe a little easier. The potion was working… thank God it was working. The duo broke out into a sprint, the rush of adrenaline managing to carry their legs quicker than they would have thought originally possible.

A hand tried to clutch Turntapp’s chest, failing when all he met was smooth armor, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. The grizzled man looked down, feeling his heart sink at the hazy look of terror that was being shot his way, tears effortlessly flowing down a paper white face. “Flux…”

Zynn shot Turntapp a look. Just what was Saps seeing? “Flux… please.” The words came out wet, his chest rattling and wheezing with every breath, but it was as if he was giving everything he had to talk to his friend. One last time . “You’re better… than this. My… friend.”

After a moment of silence, Saparata’s eyes blew open, darting around as though looking for a ghost. Panicked wheezing began to match that of Turntapp’s as they sprinted through the badlands, praying that they would reach Westhelm in time.

“I just want… to be free.”

Chapter Text

“Help! We need help!” They had finally made it to Westhelm, rushing into the nearest medical center on the outskirts of their city. The citizens inside startled, almost freezing in shock at the scene in front of them.

Zynn, one of the most powerful fighters in the world, with their sword and shield drawn, looking like they’d kill anyone who got too close, was guarding an extremely bloodied King Turntapp and Saparata, an international fugitive.

Turntapp looked like he had seen a ghost, doing his best to hold onto Saparata as best as he could, but it was obvious they were both exhausted.

Emalyn, one of the main doctors for the facility, rushed forward and helped place Saparata on a bed. Many staff stared in shock as he thrashed around on the bed, yelling and crying unintelligible words and phrases.

Placing their weapons down on the ground, Zynn hopped up onto the rough bed, trying to pin Saparata’s body down so he wouldn’t injure himself further. They sat on his legs, using their own hands to pin down his own, effectively trapping Saps to the bed.

“No, no, no! Get off of me!” He tried to throw the guard off, bucking around wildly, but to no avail. Zynn was an incredibly strong warrior despite their small size, which they were often underestimated for. “Flux, please!” 

In the commotion, Zynn’s helmet had gotten knocked off, revealing pale skin, a sharp jawline, and flowing black hair that was eerily similar to Luminara’s second-in-command, Fluixon. 

Saparata thought Flux had him pinned down.

The white and gold sheets were quickly turning red as Saps began accidentally opening his wound back up, causing many of the medical staff to spring into action. Turntapp quickly grabbed onto Saps’ hand, squeezing it tightly in what was hopefully a comforting manner.

The Pandoran man kept switching between saying complete nonsense and giving Turntapp and Zynn insight into his relationship with Flux and just how deep the betrayal ran.

“I’m innocent! Please!” The words were a cry for help, hoarse and raw with emotion. He was fighting all of his might against someone who wasn’t even there, a ghost. But it was real to him. “Flux…” The last word was a plea, begging for help that would never come, not from the person he wanted it to.

One of the doctors began gently spreading a red paste around the wound surrounding the stalactite, before nodding to the person beside him. As if on queue, Saparata’s back arched off the bed, a hoarse scream of pain as the stone was removed and the paste began to glow. It looked so similar to redstone… but how was this technology developed?

Turntapp looked away from the wound, no longer having the strength to watch. Instead, he kept a close eye on his friend, who was now gasping for air and profusely sobbing while the doctors worked. How was he not unconscious? How was he alive?

The medical staff administered pain medication and something to hopefully numb the wound, which seemed to work, but only at the cost of his sanity. The hallucinations only seemed to grow worse as the medication kicked in.

“Please… don’t leave me.” Although it looked as though Saps was staring right at him, Turntapp knew he wasn’t the person appearing. Zynn looked away, knowing the moment wasn’t theirs to intrude on.

“I’m right here. Not leaving you, kid. You’ve come this far. You’re not dying today.” The door to the medical center opened violently, Emperor Schpood bursting through the wooden frame, flanked by his two best guards.

“What the hell–” He was cut off when Saps spoke up, breathing heavy and laced with pain.

“I tried to die…” His head lolled across the pillow, white locks of hair stained with red, tangled like a bird's nest from the treacherous journey and the writhing. “Why did you stop me?”

Schpood looked down at him in horror, silently creeping over to the bed. The doctors continued their work, especially since this man had the interest and protection of both Turntapp of the Covenant and their very own emperor.

“When did I stop you, Saps?” Turntapp asked the question they all wanted to know, trying his best to fall into the role of Fluixon. Maybe this was taking advantage of a friend’s delirium in a state of vulnerability, but it was important to know.

“I… I left the Covenant. Went to the sn…snow b-biome.” Saparata’s breathing began to quicken as his body continued to writhe and twitch on the bed. “Tried to…” He almost didn’t continue his sentence if it wasn’t for Turntapp pushing for an answer. “Jump. I tried… to jump off… a tower I built.”

“Why didn’t… you just let me die? You ruined m-me. I love you, and… you ruined me. WHY?” Tears poured down from the man’s silvery eyes as he cried out, staring at the ceiling in pain. 

Neither Turntapp nor Schpood knew what to say. After all, neither one of them was Flux, nor did they know the extent of the pair’s relationship. Did Fluixon actually find Saparata trying to end his life in Yggdrasil’s uninhabited snow region and stop him? Or was that yet another hallucination?

Turntapp placed a hand on the boy’s forehead, brushing away the hair that was stuck to his face with dried blood. “He doesn’t deserve you, Saparata. He does not deserve your fucking loyalty, your love, any of it. Fluixon is a villain! He–” 

A hand grabbing his shoulder stopped the rant, looking back at whoever grabbed him. Schpood looked at him sadly, shaking his head. “He doesn’t need that right now, Turntapp. Saps doesn’t even know it's you standing here.” Turntapp wanted to argue, but he knew the Emperor of Westhelm was absolutely correct.

“I’m going to kill Fluixon.” Schpood didn’t say anything in response, merely tilting his gaze back down to the man on the bed, who had gone back to mumbling to himself, the exhaustion of everything finally calming him down.

Turntapp never let go of his hand.

Zynn looked over at their leader, silently asking if they should loosen their grip or let go completely. The man motioned for them to let go, watching carefully as Saps’ wrists were freed and the bodyguard swiftly unstraddled him and stepped back onto the ground.

Finally free, Saps curled up into himself, shaking like a leaf. Silently, he gripped the bloodied fabric of his cloak, holding it close and wrapping himself up.

“Turntapp, we should get you to the Capitol. It’ll be safer for you there.” Schpood gripped his shoulder, voice a low and worried murmur.

Turntapp immediately denied the request, not taking his eyes off the battered body of his friend. “I’m not leaving him, Schpood. He saved my life. The Covenant is gone. I will continue to protect him.”

Schpood paused, trying to pick his words carefully. “You will have a place in Westhelm, should you choose to take it. The same goes for Saparata.” He nodded at the curled-up man, eyebrows furrowed with concern at the sudden silence from him. “We can transfer him to the medical suite in the Capitol. That way we can ensure both of your safety, okay?”

It was silent for a few moments as the Covenant’s leader considered the proposal before agreeing. “Let’s go, then.”

Chapter Text

Saparata awoke to a flashing pain blooming in his shoulder, his body arching off the bed as he gasped for air that was seemingly non-existent. As his eyes shot open, he frantically looked around the room.

Wooden beams lined the ceiling as supports, dirty chains hanging from them, holding lanterns that cast a dim light throughout the room. It was nighttime, and the moonlight was shining through the window, illuminating the stone brick walls.

Was this… Westhelm? It looked like their Citadel building, but… he couldn’t be sure.

There were a few more beds against the wall, all unoccupied. A dormitory? A hospital wing? The latter would almost explain why it was so hard to breathe, and his shoulder felt like it had been torn off. 

His shirt had been taken off, as well as the cloak that had been gifted to him, revealing white bandages tightly wound around a large section of his chest and shoulders. Saps reached back, touching his hair, which had felt stiff against the pillow. He stiffened when the long white strands were hardened with blood, weaving in and around.

Faint voices began approaching the rounded wooden door, so Saps quickly shut his eyes, pretending he was still asleep. He didn’t know who had brought him here, if he was safe or in danger. He would stand up and fight, but his body was in no shape for a fight, so the safest plan was for him to stay still and gain as much information as possible.

The door creaked open slowly, two familiar voices making their way into the room, but everything was still a little hazy, so he couldn’t place it.

“We just received news from Pandora regarding Flux’s whereabouts.” Flux? Were these his allies? No… allies would most likely have knowledge of where he was. “Apparently, Tricolor attempted to issue an arrest warrant for him for the murders of the leaders that Saps was framed for. But he was attacked by 3BelowZero’s assassin and escaped custody in an attempt to not get killed.”

The other man cursed under his breath, boots scuffing against the floor as he walked towards the wooden chair beside Saparata’s, sitting down in it with a quiet thump. “Damn, that bastard. Why is he so damn slippery? Did Tricolor manage to find and arrest him?”

“Flux is more tricky than we thought. Apparently, he sailed back to Luminara and spoke to Legacy, who dropped out of the election. Flux is the new leader of Luminara.” The voice was solemn, something that was surprising to those in the room. 

A fist slammed into the wall,a dull thud reverberating throughout the spacious room. “ Fuck . Are they going to send their army after Saps? After the debacle today, everyone knows that he’s under my protection, and now by proxy, yours as well.”

The other man was quick to reassure, talking about how his army was the best in the world and that no one could defeat them. “This is good. This means that Pandora is finally suspecting Flux as a suspect.”

“He keeps getting away… I want to wring that bastard’s neck. The hurt that he has made that kid feel… It’s insane how he has gotten away with it for so long. You heard the things Saps was saying.” Saps stiffened at the mention of his name, because what on Earth had he said? What had even happened?

“It was certainly… concerning. You mentioned he was delirious during your escape as well? I can only assume that he was hallucinating then, too.” 

“He… yeah.” The man paused, inhaling sharply. “Saps just… he kept clawing at my armor. I think he thought I was Fluixon. He said that I was ‘better than this,’ which I’m assuming was referring to the betrayal. He said he just wanted to be free…”

The room held a heavy silence, none of the men choosing to speak as they processed everything in front of them. “Something happened before I arrived, didn’t it?”

“I… Zynn was holding him down. He was freaking out and he was going to die if the doctors couldn’t treat him. But in the chaos, Saps knocked their helmet off and… well let’s just say Zynn has a startling resemblance to Fluixon. Between that and… and the tower? I just… God, I don’t know how to help him.”

Oh. They knew about the tower. Somehow, in Saparata’s delirium, he had told these two people that he had tried to throw himself off a tower in the middle of nowhere after running away from Turntapp. What a cowardly thing to do. Saps cursed himself for his actions, wondering just how much pity he was getting.

“Turntapp… I…” So Turntapp was the other man in the room. That was a relief. Saps was about to speak up when the other man continued to speak. “Did… were Saparata and Fluixon like… a thing? Do you know?”

Before Turntapp could answer the question, Saps did it for him. “No, we weren't.” At this point in the conversation, he had opened his eyes once more, seeing Turntapp on his right while Emperor Schpood of Westhelm was at the foot of his bed.

“Holy fuck, you're awake already?” Schpood sputtered out, staring at the man incredulously. “The doctors didn't think you'd wake up for ages with the extent of your injuries!”

“It takes more than… whatever happened, to kill me.” Saps’ voice rang out sarcastically and unsure, still confused as to how he got there.

“You saved my life, Saparata.” Turntapp’s voice held an emotion that Saps couldn't quite place, having never heard the man speak that way before. “We had been at the trial against Infernus when an ex-Covenant member attempted to assassinate me. You shoved me out of the way and took the blow. Zynn and I rushed you here, where doctors were able to stabilize and heal you.”

Saps stared at him with those wide eyes, glancing back down at his shoulder. The bandages made him feel as though he was being suffocated, pushing all the air out of his lungs. “What… I just… I don’t remember. I don’t even remember arriving at the trial, Turntapp.”

The gruff man frowned, eyes flicking to and from the injury quickly. “It was another dripstone assassination. You pushed me out of the way, and it entered through your back shoulder. The doctors say it shattered your shoulder blade and upper ribs before tearing through your lung as well. You almost died, kid.”

Saparata didn’t know what to say to that. After all, it wasn’t as though he was scared of death. But now… it was as if he was scared of leaving his friends. “I’m glad that we both made it out alive. Did… was anyone else hurt?”

Schpood shook his head, taking it as his cue to speak up about the current scene of global politics. “Cynikka, upon the panic, took her citizens and the rest of what was the Covenant back to the Ashes Bastion. No one else was hurt. The Covenant has been dissolved, with Turntapp and Zynn remaining in Westhelm.” He sighed heavily, staring out the window to admire his city. “Saparata. I did not believe in your innocence when you first approached me, and if I had any doubts up until now, they are all gone. No matter if your innocence is proved or not, back on Pandora, you have a place here in this city, should you choose to take it.”

Saps felt strange at the words, staring at the emperor. A feeling of safety and calm overtook him, something that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Schpood was no longer siding with him and using him to piss off the Commonwealth. They had a genuine alliance, a genuine friendship. And Turntapp was the same way., considering him a good friend.

Maybe… after everything was over… he could be free.