Why Aren't They Fighting?

Hwang Seokgu looked around and let out a hollow laugh.

"What is this."

Color, everywhere. Stars, dinosaurs, a moon, birds, a sun, clouds, people—pictures by the hundred floated stitched across the empty air, and the feast of hues was enough to make a man's head ache.

"Chairman?"

"Captain Kid. You were here too?"

Captain Kid pushed the pictures aside and came closer. He was just as thrown as anyone; the usual easy calm had left his face.

"Do you know what's going on?"

"How should I? I got dumped here out of nowhere."

Hwang Seokgu flicked away a monkey picture stuck to his cheek. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It bounced off like rubber, struck another picture, and that one struck yet another and went flying. All he had done was brush a drawing aside, and in a heartbeat the air was a frantic mess. A tic jumped at the corner of his eye.

"...Sorry. Wasn't on purpose."

"I didn't expect this either."

They put their backs together. The pictures were knocking into one another and picking up speed, moving so fast they left afterimages.

"......Something's wrong."

"What is?"

"They're raising all this hell. Why isn't there any sound?"

"......"

The hair on Captain Kid's body stood on end. Damp gathered in his pores.

"...This has to be an enemy trap."

"I'm thinking the same, but..."

Hwang Seokgu let the words trail.

"I don't feel a lick of danger."

"Truly?"

"Don't lean on it too hard. I didn't notice this trap either."

He scowled, as if he regretted saying anything. Captain Kid did not let it pass. A veteran warrior's instinct was not something you brushed aside; that was a lesson learned at Captain Earth's right hand.

"We have to rejoin the others. Chairman, do you know the way out?"

Hwang Seokgu's body swelled into brute mass. Fur sprouted along forearms like the slopes of a mountain, and legs already thicker than tree trunks grew thicker still. His muzzle lengthened. Whiskers pushed from his cheeks. His claws sharpened, and his chest ripped through his clothes as it thrust into a beast's barrel.

"Grrrr."

The change was finished in a breath. Hwang Seokgu, a tiger now, growled low.

"That way!"

Trusting the instinct peculiar to him, he pointed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with a claw. A strange light stirred in Captain Kid's eyes. In all that mad ricochet, one picture alone refused to bounce: a cute little fairy, holding a door.

"I'll break through."

Captain Kid drew one foot far behind him, a sprinter's crouch. Under the suit his legs swelled as if they might burst.

"Hup!"

He kicked off with a short shout. The size of that muscle was no ornament. He ignored every obstacle in the way and reached the target.

"What—?!"

Kyarrrk.

Kid reached for the fairy picture, but it vanished like a mirage.

"Guh—!"

Hwang Seokgu had already read it. He charged like a tank and seized Captain Kid by the nape, and the heavy yank sent Kid tumbling, rolling end over end.

"Chairman?!"

Captain Kid barely got his face up to look at him.

"Kh—!"

"Well, now. Sharp nose. Found it in one go."

Bang!

Hwang Seokgu was flung as if a truck had hit him. Captain Kid scrambled up and caught him.

"Are you all right?"

"No. I'm not."

Hwang Seokgu worked his jaw and spat. The spit came out red, and on the floor it twitched.

"Hey, tiger. That just now was pretty slick."

Snap.

A finger flicked, and the pictures froze. From between them a fairy no bigger than a human palm showed himself. His wings shivered. He did not look pleased.

"...The Twelfth Apostle."

"You know me?"

The moment Captain Kid murmured what he was, the Twelfth Apostle perked up.

"Well, yeah. An intruder would know, right? Only an idiot breaks in without learning a thing about the enemy."

Satisfied with a conclusion that suited him, he lost interest just as fast.

"So it was a trap."

"Nope."

At Kid's hardened voice the Twelfth Apostle picked at a nail and denied it.

"It wasn't?"

"I didn't know you people were coming here either. Real surprise. Did the First Apostle slip?"

He spun in circles, and a little whirlwind rose around him.

"Hmmmmmmmmm............"

Enemies stood right there, and he paid them no mind, sunk in his own thoughts—as if to prove they could not harm him at all.

Captain Kid spoke to Hwang Seokgu with a look. An enemy off his guard was a gift. No other Heavenly Punishment was in sight, and nothing was more appetizing than a foe with his belly bare.

"Aaaaagh, I don't get it! The Heavenly Road is opening, this precious moment, and I'm stuck in some weird place with an animal and a person! Alone! Where'd the two-to-a-team rule go!"

The Twelfth Apostle tore at his hair and shrieked.

Hwang Seokgu took the opening and struck. Claws cut the air, so close they seemed about to touch the apostle's body.

"You damned cat! Who said you could raise a hand!"

The claws stopped cold against a hand smaller than a baby's. The instant they were blocked, Hwang Seokgu swung the other.

"You—!"

The Twelfth Apostle shot upward like a bullet. From the air he looked down and snorted.

"Ha. Worthless things. A person's trying to think, and you dare."

His face twisted vicious as a hungry ghost. The beat of his wings grew violent.

"You need a lesson. I'll make a cute little kitty out of you. The human dies."

He gathered the powder shed from his wings. Clump by clump it became spores, and over them he wore a foul little grin.

"Heehee! Die!"

He blew, a soft hoo, and the clumps dropped as if they had weight. They swallowed pictures and swelled, until what fell was no longer powder but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠meteors—destruction itself, the sort of thing that had once settled the question of the dinosaurs.

KWA-KWA-KWANG!!!

They struck. And yet the force was not as great as it looked. Whether that was the peculiar nature of this space, or the limit of the Twelfth Apostle's power, there was no telling.

"Too weak?"

He flitted about. Weak or not, a meteor was a meteor. No one stayed in one piece with a boulder the size of a building coming down on his head.

"You hit too hard."

He might have gone on thinking that, if Captain Kid had not been standing at his back.

"You?!"

WHAM!

Captain Kid laced his hands and brought them down on the Twelfth Apostle.

THUD!

Slammed flat, limbs splayed in the shape of a character, the apostle gaped.

"What?! How are you alive!"

"I stepped on the pictures and climbed. No sound. Convenient."

Captain Kid dropped straight down on him.

"Kwek—!"

"Small frame. Hard to hit."

"Who's small!"

"KUHEOHEONG!!!"

Hwang Seokgu roared as he smashed the meteors apart. The pictures they were made of tore in every direction, and yellow tiger eyes locked onto his enemy.

"I almost died, you piece of trash!"

"Then just die!"

The Twelfth Apostle shook Captain Kid off. He darted this way and that, grinding his teeth.

"Fine! Let's play!"

He threw his arms wide, and a gale screamed up around him.

Whoooooosh!

From inside the wind he jabbed a finger at them both.

"Get ready! I'll show you a death worse than dying!"

The child's voice ended.

The gale became a typhoon.

"Krrrr."

"Well, I'll be. What kind of mess is this."

Roadman stared at the woman standing before him with cool dignity. A broad conical satgat shadowed her face, and the traditional hanbok she wore was perfectly arranged, her hands folded neatly before her.

"............"

She said nothing. She only looked at them, lofty and still.

A sigh came out of Roadman on its own.

"Haa. When I get back, I'm retiring for good. I won't even be able to call myself a hero anywhere."

"Krung. Krung."

Decades of pride had been dumped overnight into a bucket of shit. Confidence against people who fought with the whole world for an enemy had been arrogance, plain and simple—a blunder of failing to pile caution upon caution.

"What do you think?"

"Krrrr."

San-gun shrugged, the meaning plain enough. How should I know?

"Suffering like this in my old age."

Roadman looked at the woman in hanbok—Sipsado, according to the briefing they had been given—and hardened himself for a fight. Not the bottom of the apostle ranks, but tenth all the same. If he and this tiger made any kind of pair, maybe they could at least keep their lives. If not, he could use his ability and look for a way to live.

"Can you buy me time?"

"Krung."

San-gun stepped forward without a flinch. The woman in hanbok turned her quiet gaze on him, and he did not look away.

"While you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do."

Roadman fell back a step.

That tiger is strong. However strong a Heavenly Punishment is, they won't finish him in one blow.

He had felt San-gun's strength at the meeting. Trusting one of the most shocking moments of his life, Roadman called on his power.

He could find the road to the rest of the subjugation team. If there was no road, it did not matter. He would make one.

If only he was given the time!

Please. Hold on.

Roadman prayed that San-gun would manage it.

But.

Why aren't they fighting?

He had braced for a furious battle. Instead the tiger and the woman stood still as statues, as if they had just seen family long departed.