The Celestials [Taegyu]

Chapter 11 ; The Truth

song ; end of the beginning (djo)

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Viken slumped on the worn sofa, his hands resting limply in his lap as he stared blankly at the wall. The vibrant energy of the night had dissipated, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Next to him, Terry's presence was both comforting and tentative. He leaned in slightly, his voice barely a whisper.

"Hey... it's going to be okay."

Viken didn't reply, his voice trapped in his throat. A weight of guilt pressed down on his chest, making it hard to breathe. The haunting image of Cassian-pale and fragile, barely clinging to life-replayed in his mind like a relentless loop.

This was his fault; he had brought this pain upon them, and now they were all caught in its grip. Terry, still searching for the right words, managed a small, awkward smile. His hand hovered just above Viken's shoulder before finally resting there, offering a gentle squeeze.

"You did everything you could. They're alive, right? And Soule... Soule believes he can save him."

Viken's breath hitched in his throat; the reassurance did little to calm the storm raging inside him. He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as his vision began to blur.

"They're alive..."

Viken whispered, his voice barely audible, trembling on the edge of breaking. His mind screamed that it wasn't enough, that he had already failed them.

Terry, noticing the shift in Viken, frowned and shifted awkwardly, glancing around the room, unsure of how to react. Viken had always been the quiet one-steady and composed. But now, he was coming apart right before Terry's eyes, leaving him uncertain of how to help.

"Viken," Terry said softly, leaning in closer.

"What's wrong? You're acting like... I don't know, like this is your fault."

At those words, Viken squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that the pressure would somehow hold back the tidal wave of guilt crashing over him. But it was in vain.

Tears poured down his face as he choked out, "I'm sorry," his voice cracking, the floodgates finally opening as he began to sob.

He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking violently with each wave of grief. Terry stood frozen, shocked by the sudden surge of emotion. He looked around the room, searching for any sign of support, but they were completely alone. This wasn't how he had envisioned it-Viken was supposed to be the strong one, the one who kept everything together.

"Hey, hey," Terry stammered, gripping Viken's shoulder tightly.

"It's... it's not your fault, okay? Whatever you're feeling, it's not on you."

But Viken shook his head, his cries growing louder and more frantic. His chest heaved as he struggled to express his thoughts through the tears.

"You don't get it... I... I'm the one who did all of this." Terry blinked, his face a mask of confusion. He moved closer, his brow furrowing as he struggled to comprehend Viken's words. "What are you saying? You didn't do anything-"

"I did!"

Viken yelled, his voice trembling with pain. His tear-stained face turned to Terry, eyes wide with desperation.

"I created them. Every hurt, every injury, every scar-it's all on me."

Terry stared at him, opening his mouth to reply but then shutting it again, completely bewildered. Viken's claims made no sense. How could he be to blame for any of this? They were in the midst of a battle against the High Priest, fighting for their lives-what could Viken possibly have to do with it?

"I'm the reason Cassian's dying," Viken whispered, his voice barely audible, shattered.

"I... I wrote him this way."

Terry's confusion deepened, his heart racing as the weight of the revelation settled in. Terry found it difficult to keep up, trying to grasp the meaning behind Viken's words, but they slipped away from him. How could Viken articulate himself in such a manner? It felt as if he were some sort of-Then it dawned on him.

"Wait..." Terry said slowly, narrowing his eyes. "What do you mean... you wrote him?"

Viken's face twisted in anguish, and he broke down once more, unable to look Terry in the eye. He shook his head fervently, his body shaking.

"I can't... I can't tell you," Viken gasped between sobs.

"If you knew... if any of you knew... you'd hate me. You'd all hate me. You'd want to kill me."

Terry's hand hesitated on Viken's shoulder, uncertainty flooding his mind as he tried to make sense of the situation. He was utterly speechless. How could he possibly respond to something like this?

"Viken..."

Terry murmured, his voice trembling with uncertainty.

"I'm not sure I understand what you're saying, but-"

Viken cut him off, shaking more violently now.

"I'm the cause of all your pain. I'm the reason he's dying. I'm... I'm your-"

"Stop."

Terry interrupted, his tone more resolute this time, though still laced with tremors. He pulled back, letting his hand slip from Viken's shoulder as doubt flooded his mind.

"I don't know what you mean, but blaming yourself won't change anything. You're not responsible for any of this-"

"I am."

Viken whispered, his voice hollow, his eyes filled with terror.

Terry fell silent, feeling utterly adrift. He looked at Viken, at the tears cascading down his cheeks, at the heavy guilt and despair radiating from him, and he felt completely helpless.

He had no idea how to fix this. He didn't know how to reassure Viken that he wasn't to blame-because, deep down, Terry himself was starting to question what was true.

"I..."

Terry hesitated, shaking his head, unsure of how to proceed. This was overwhelming for him.

"Viken, just... take a deep breath, alright? Whatever you believe has happened, we'll figure it out. But right now, we need to focus on saving Cassian. You're not alone in this."

Viken kept sobbing, unable to pull himself together. His hands clutched the fabric of his clothes tightly, and Terry could see him unraveling right there on the sofa.

For the first time in his life, Terry felt completely powerless.