Chapter Text
The scent of old parchment mixed with incense was almost suffocating. The late afternoon light streamed through the stained-glass window high on the wall, bathing the room in gold and ruby. Amid piles of documents, seals, and maps scattered across the main desk, Kanon of Gemini sat sideways on the armrest of the Deputy Grand Master's office couch, one leg swinging idly — but his gaze was fixed. The document in his hands trembled almost imperceptibly. The mischievous smile that usually adorned his lips had vanished, replaced by a rare expression: genuine concern.
— Saggie... — he called, using the nickname in an attempt to soften the impact. — Are you sure you want to give this order?
Across the desk, Saga remained silent, perched on the edge of his chair, arms crossed, his face as expressionless as a marble statue. His eyes, however, carried storms.
— This is going to blow up — Kanon insisted. — Big time. The kind that keeps the Sanctuary awake for weeks. Athena won’t like it… and Aiolos even less.
Saga let out a low sound, almost a humorless laugh.
— Aiolos... — he began, the name leaving his lips like venom. — Is too busy fornicating with Capricorn in some remote village in Italy to care about serious decisions.
Kanon raised an eyebrow.
— I thought only Shura was sent on a mission there.
— He was. But this morning, I sent a messenger after Aiolos. You know what he found? Nothing. No trace of cosmos, no report, no trail. Except maybe... an unmade bed.
— So, basically... — Kanon bit his lip to hold back a laugh. — It’s happening.
— Of course it’s happening! — Saga slammed his palm on the desk. — But that’s not the problem. The problem is that while he’s on his erotic vacation abroad, someone has to keep the Sanctuary standing. And guess who’s been doing that since day one?
— You — Kanon replied, letting out a long sigh and looking up at the ceiling, as if asking Poseidon for strength. He continued:
— Still, when he comes back... it’s going to blow up. And you know that. He’s still the Grand Master, Saga. Everything you do falls on him too.
— Great. It’ll be the first time he gets criticized for my decision — Saga muttered with a bitter smile. — Most of the time, I’m the one cleaning up his messes. Tell me, Kanon, how many meetings with the elders have you seen him attend since he came back?
Kanon made a low, uncomfortable noise.
— None... But that doesn’t mean you have to do everything alone.
— I can. Because if you leave it to him, the Sanctuary turns into a circus. At least with me, problems get solved — even if it hurts.
Silence settled between them. Saga drummed his fingers on the armrest of the chair.
Kanon broke the silence with an apparently random question:
— Why did Shion choose that face to be Grand Master? — he asked in an almost philosophical tone.
Saga didn’t answer right away. He walked to the window, gazing out at the golden horizon over the Sanctuary. Then he spoke, almost as if thinking aloud:
— Because even he feared the flood of criticism he’d get if he chose me from the start. Shion knew that naming “Saga of Gemini” as the new Grand Master would cause mass hysteria. Just mentioning my name in a meeting makes Saints break into a cold sweat. Shion chose the pretty face, the diplomacy, the image of the wronged hero. He chose the symbol.
— And left the executor in the shadows.
— Exactly.
— I don’t get that old man... how can he like you so much, Saggie? He could’ve just handed the baton to boring ol’ Aries. — Kanon said, flashing a cheeky smile.
Saga glared at him, but before he could respond, three firm knocks echoed at the door. He felt the cosmos before hearing the footsteps: two — intense, flamboyant, and absolutely irritating. He allowed himself a weary smile.
— Enter, — he ordered, his tone unchanged.
The door opened to reveal none other than Aphrodite of Pisces, strutting in as if he were on a Milan runway, followed by Deathmask of Cancer, with his lazy gait and smug grin. Both wore their Gold Cloths with the kind of ostentation that irritated the sensible half of the Sanctuary.
— You summoned us, Grand Master? — Aphrodite asked, his voice both seductive and mocking.
— I did, — Saga replied. — I have a mission for you two.
Cancer eyed him suspiciously.
— I hope it’s not another hellish afternoon babysitting the goddess at some civilian event, — he grumbled, his heavy Neapolitan accent thick. — If she asks again whether she looks good enough or if Pegasus will like her new dress, I swear I’ll kill that Bronze Saint just to watch Athena cry for a week!
Aphrodite laughed, shaking his head.
— You wicked Neapolitan.
Saga raised a hand to silence them.
— It’s nothing like that, — he said calmly. — It’s an assassination mission.
The air in the room seemed to shift.
Cancer’s eyebrows rose, intrigued. A predatory glint flashed in his eyes.
— Finally, a proper job. Tell me more.
Saga walked over to his chair and sat down, fingers steepled in front of his mouth.
— I want you both to go to Death Queen Island. The Saint in charge of recruit training hasn’t reported in for months. No reports. No authorizations. No response. That makes him a deserter.
— Kletos of Hades, right? — Aphrodite asked, now more serious.
Saga nodded.
— That’s the one. Former disciple of Docrates. He’s been training new recruits on his own. Interfering with the Sanctuary’s selection process… Aries insists on diplomacy and good faith, and the situation drags on. I’m done waiting.
— And you want us to...? — Cancer left the question hanging, smiling.
— Eliminate him. And anyone who tries to stop you. Clean out that island if necessary. The Sanctuary is not a colony for anarchists.
Aphrodite tilted his head with a faint, sinister smile.
— Consider it done, Grand Master.
Kanon, who had been silently observing, clicked his tongue and muttered:
— This is going to blow up. People will say you’re possessed again, Saggie...
Saga smiled — dark and unbothered.
— Let them. I don’t care.
From the day he came back to life — finally freed from the malignant presence of Hades — Saga of Gemini knew he would never walk the Sanctuary as a common man.
There was always a look.
A whisper.
An invisible weight that followed him like a loyal shadow.
Because let’s be honest — a decade of atrocities doesn’t vanish with a childlike blessing. No matter how loudly Athena declared her trust and proclaimed divine forgiveness before all, there were grudges even the gods dared not touch.
And don’t mistake him — Saga was grateful for his second chance. Grateful to be torn from the abyss where he'd been left to rot. Grateful to breathe clean air without foreign voices in his mind.
But gratitude didn’t mean submission.
He was not like Shura.
Shura, who bowed under the weight of his past like a penitent monk.
Shura, who self-flagellated in search of some lost virtue.
Shura, who walked with straight spine and heavy shoulders, trying to convince himself — and the world — that he could be perfect enough to erase his sins.
Saga found it pathetic.
He, on the other hand, never pretended to be a saint.
He accepted what he was — with all his flaws, glories, and open wounds.
He had no time for regrets or apologies. If his presence made others uncomfortable, they were free to look away.
— “I am what I am,” — he would murmur when the stares lingered too long. — “And if that hurts, it’s not my problem.”
He firmly believed that he was — and still is — the greatest Gemini Saint the world had ever seen. Even at his darkest, he carried the weight of logic and chaos on his back with more grace than any obedient lamb ever could.
Yes, he let himself be corrupted.
Yes, he killed, deceived, manipulated.
But he also fought, led, and conquered.
He did what had to be done when others quivered in their golden sandals.
And now, back from the edge, he watched the others trying to rebuild the world as if everyone were made of light.
But he was not light.
Saga was shadow.
He was balance.
And he would always be ready to remind them that even gods need monsters in their ranks.
---***---
Kanon's head was still spinning from the boldness of Saga’s latest decision. Sending Aphrodite and Deathmask to Death Queen Island felt more like the plot of a final villain than the action of a man claiming to be redeemed.
— “A couple dozen corpses later, he'll swear it was just a routine inspection,” — he muttered to himself, already imagining the side-eyes he'd be getting thanks to his older brother.
He barely had time to breathe when, in the distance, he spotted yet another scene that made him wish he hadn’t gotten out of bed: his two adorable apprentices, the twins Integra and Paradox, arguing heatedly. At their feet, a red-haired boy was kneeling, sobbing over a shapeless mass of blood and feathers.
— Ah, shit… another problem, — Kanon groaned, rubbing his face. — Maybe if I pretend I didn’t see it, another Saint will deal with it?
— Not a chance, — said a voice behind him, making Kanon jump. — They’re your problem, remember?
Kanon turned and shot a death glare at Ikki of Phoenix, who appeared grinning like he'd just witnessed the best comedy scene of his life.
— Trying to give me a heart attack, asshole?!
— Nope. But with any luck, they will. — Ikki nodded toward the kids. — Come on, let’s see what they’ve done this time before they sacrifice another poor animal.
— I don’t want to, — Kanon grumbled, crossing his arms. — This should be Aldebaran’s job. He likes cooking and coddling kids.
— Kanon... — Ikki rolled his eyes. — Get moving. You’re way too old to be running from your responsibilities.
— Look who’s talking!
Muttering with every step, Kanon followed him, dragging his feet like a man walking to his own execution.
When they arrived, Integra was the first to notice them. Her teary blue eyes looked like two sad moons.
— What happened here? — Kanon asked, arms crossed. He already knew the answer, but he needed the official version before handing out scoldings.
— Paradox… — Integra began, her voice faltering — killed the little bird Kiki and I were trying to save...
Kanon sighed — the kind of sigh of someone who had already quit being a master twenty times that month but was ignored out of Saga's pure sadism.
He looked at Paradox. She met his gaze with absolute calm. No sign of remorse. Not even pretense.
— Why did you do that? — he asked, too tired for subtlety.
— To end its suffering, Master Kanon, — she replied with unnerving serenity. — The bird was mortally wounded, doomed to agonize for days. Anyone with eyes and a brain would know it was the right thing to do.
Kanon rubbed his face again, already feeling the weight of the lecture Mu of Aries would unleash once Kiki tearfully recounted the incident.
— WHAT THE HELL, PARADOX?! — Kanon exploded, practically fuming. — Do you have any idea the size of the shitstorm I’ll have to deal with Mu because of this?!
The girl arched a golden eyebrow, slightly bored. No emotion. No shame. Just that unsettling gleam in her heterochromatic eyes.
— Of all the crybaby kids in the Sanctuary, why did you have to mess with Mu’s apprentice?! — he shouted.
Paradox tilted her head, pondering a moment.
— Because someone had to teach him — and my soft sister — that this is Athena’s Sanctuary, — she said coldly. — A place where the goddess’s most powerful defenders are trained. There should be no room for weakness here.
Ikki let out a nasal chuckle.
— Damn. This little brat is Saga in a skirt.
The girl’s heterochromatic eyes lit up as if he’d just handed her a birthday present.
— That’s not a compliment! — Kanon snapped, borderline hysterical.
Paradox smiled.
— To me it is, Master Kanon. To me it is.
— Go to the dorms, now! — Kanon ordered, too drained to keep arguing. — I need to think about what to do with you.
Without a word of protest, Paradox turned and left with the serenity of a monk. Integra remained behind, trying to console little Kiki, who was still quietly crying.
Kanon took a deep breath and turned to her:
— Integra, take Kiki to the House of Aries. Tell Mu I’ll talk to him later.
— Yes, Master Kanon, — the girl replied, holding Kiki by the hand.
Once they were out of sight, Ikki let out a low whistle, arms crossed.
— You’re screwed, having to raise that hellspawn.
— Don’t talk about her like that, — Kanon replied, exhausted. — Despite everything… Paradox is just a kid.
— A kid who thinks like Saga, has Deathmask’s temperament, and the empathy of a Specter of Hades.
Kanon looked up to the sky as if begging for divine intervention.
— Do you think if I ask Shaina to take them back, she’d accept? — he asked with a glimmer of childish hope in his eyes, like a man praying for a last-minute miracle.
Ikki couldn't hold in his laugh, crossing his arms with that smug air of someone who’s seen it all — and survived.
— Highly doubt it, — he replied with a crooked smile. — She already has Yuna and Marian turning her hair white. I bet she cried tears of joy at the feet of the Oracle of Delphi when he had that damn vision that those two brats would be the next Gemini Saints. — He paused dramatically. — She offloaded two problems in one go.
Kanon groaned like he’d taken a punch straight to the gut.
— I should’ve stayed at the bottom of the sea with Poseidon. It was quieter down there.
— Deep down, you love them, — Ikki teased, full of sarcasm.
— Deep down... — Kanon took a deep breath. — ...I just want to send them to Asgard for "extended training." Like, five years minimum.
— I feel you...
— They’re going to give me an ulcer before I turn forty-five! I swear!