Archive of Our Own

When their expedition team brought in an injured, tranquilised merman, Barok hadn’t thought twice about what it truly entailed. Perhaps it was because of the creature’s unconscious state, but his desperate wishes and anger had not allowed him to see a living being before him. Only a monster, an opportunity and a chance at discovering the rumoured life resurrecting capabilities of those mythical creatures. If he ever thought he recognised that specific crimson hue on its scales, he never let his mind linger.

One of these creatures had been the reason for his brother’s premature demise. Klimt had only attempted to understand the Children of the Seas, but on a travel with the siren, he’d been betrayed, murdered far from land and his own home. His body was never recovered in one piece, his only solace was that the monster that took his brother’s life had already paid for his sins.

There was nothing to be understood from such beasts. The stories of old that told of Merfolk seducing and enthralling sailors, only to lead them to their doom, wasn’t as unfounded as his brother had tried to argue. Barok had wanted nothing more to do with the Merfolk, but mere days after the incident, Klimt’s boss had approached him, casually mentioning legends of the curative properties of Merfolk blood and scales. Some even claimed that Merfolk were capable of reviving the dead.

He wouldn’t have believed such a fairytale for a second, if not for the fact he’d witnessed the healing power of a merman himself. Nothing remotely close to resurrection, but just one drop of Merfolk blood and their heavily injured canine companion, Balmung, had perked up and been able to run around as if there had been no damage to begin with. Now knowing that Gensh- no, the monster, had never been upfront with him, who is to say he wasn’t withholding the true power of the Merfolk?

From there he had ordered many expeditions with the goal to seize a living Merfolk. Which was easier said than done. There was a reason they were still regarded as mythical beings. Not many humans had the opportunity to lay their eyes upon them and if they wished to remain unseen, no man would be able to pursue them to the depths in which they dwelled.

Most sightings of them nowadays were from people finding a deceased Merfolk who had washed up on the shore, curiously, more often than not with a gaping wound in their chests, where their hearts once would have pulsated. Assuming that they ever had one.

According to his team, they had been lucky. When they set off from the harbour, they had found two mermen, one had gotten entangled in seaweed in a shallow area. As they had approached to reel in the merman, another had appeared out of the blue, springing out of the ocean and clawing at the crew. Lucky for them, with strength in number, they were able to immobilise the attacker, subduing it and hauling it back to the lab. Albeit not without a fair share of damage done to the vessel and its crew. The one stuck in seaweed had gotten away unfortunately, but one living specimen was already more than they could ask for.

As soon as the expedition team returned, they had immediately attached a voice canceller snuggly around the beast’s neck, neutralising its most potent weapon: its voice. Countless sailors had been lured close and into a false sense of security by a Merfolk’s siren song alone, only to be struck down once they were too enamoured by the alluring creature.

Following that, the merman had its wrists restrained by manacles and was placed in a large water tank, filled with ocean water.

With all possible threats nullified, Barok and the rest of the team could take their time and plan their next steps. After all, there were now countless possibilities to explore that they had barely dared to dream of before.

Several meetings later, they had a project plan and an outline ready for all tests they wished to perform. Predominantly, the effects and properties of Merfolk blood, in both an internal and external environment, was on top of their interest. Additionally, they decided to investigate if Merfolk scales could be used to make medicine.

Unfortunately, the nature of the experiments weren’t exactly the type to be within the frames of legal regulations. While their seaside laboratory contained a hidden room in the carved out cellar of the cliffs, only a tank was set up down there. All other tools and materials needed to be prepared and allocated underground.

While setting up the labs and equipment for the experiments, they also needed to extract a decilitre of blood from the creature every so often. Unexpectedly, this turned out to be a hurdle, as the creature wasn’t willing to peacefully allow the staff to draw its blood.

Subduing the merman with drugs was not an option, as that would contaminate the blood, so they had to resort to more… barbaric methods. First they tried using pure force and kept it still by tightening and pulling hard on its restraints, but the beast kept squirming and attempting to bite and scratch anyone within reach. They quickly decided it was futile, as it always ended with injuries and minimal amounts of the subject’s blood in their disifected containers.

Instead they connected cables to its manacles and induced the creature with a strong electric current, knocking it unconscious long enough for them to gather all samples they needed.

With all the preparations complete, they could finally commence Project Ambrosia.

They had expected the process of collecting the fluids to take longer, but it turned out the Merfolk had a much faster regeneration of blood cells and liquid than expected. Thus they could proceed with the experiments at a much more rapid pace than anticipated.

They carefully collected the blood in vials and plucked a few dozen scarlet scales from the creature’s tail. Putting the liquid and scales separately in a multitude of different beakers with chemical solutions to investigate any and all reactions they could expect.

As for the subject itself, they allowed it to restore its blood values before bringing it out of the tank to observe its healing ability. They kept it unconscious as they carefully made cuts of different depths along both of its arms. Barok was grateful that the creature was both knocked out and carried a voice canceller. He wasn’t sure he could stomach inflicting wounds, shallow or not, if it acted alive.

Time and time again he had to remind himself it was for the sake of humanity and that the subject was only that: a subject to be studied.

It turned out to be surprisingly resilient. Well, it should not be too unexpected, knowing the powerful healing capabilities it possessed, but seeing the cuts and wounds heal up on their own almost instantly when the merman was submerged in water once more was fascinating. Any lacerations would stitch themselves up ten times faster when in contact with ocean water than just air.

They never dared to completely cut off any limbs, but they teetered on the limits as the cuts they inflicted got deeper and deeper for each time, breaking more fingers and larger bones for every session. Breaking the bones was the worst part. Even if the subject was unconscious and couldn’t scream, the spasms and shuddering breaths (and tears, but he refused to acknowledge those) never failed to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

May their efforts be worth it in the end. All the pain and suffering they had inflicted on the merman… he could only pray that the head scientist’s promise would not ring hollow.

Weeks passed. Yet no matter what they did, nothing seemed to suggest Merfolk blood or scales on their own were potent enough to bring back a departed soul. It was enough to heal most injuries when applied on open wounds. Even minor internal damage could be healed by ingesting Merfolk blood and more major internal failures could be slowed enough to get the patient to a hospital. But as soon as any living creature, both flies and mice alike, passed to the other side, nothing seemed to have any effect.

They also observed a decline in the healing rate of the merman itself. Its wounds closed slower and it wasn’t regenerating blood cells at the same rapid pace as in the beginning. With almost no remaining strength to fight back, no longer did they need to electrocute the subject whenever it had to be transported.

Barok had to keep telling himself he was imagining the resigned look in the merman’s eyes. It could only fake emotions. Only attempt to tug on his heart strings.

It was getting closer to being on its last legs, or tail, in this specific case. If they couldn’t get the results they needed soon…

A Merfolk’s heart.

The ambrosia of the seas. The sweet nectar that would grant immortality by consuming a Merfolk’s heart.

A mere legend, still that was the last thing they could attempt. The absolute last resort, should nothing else prove to be fruitful. But if it came to that, they would only have that one chance and after… there would be nothing more they could gain from the subject.

He was truly starting to have doubts now. If it could barely heal itself, it could certainly not resurrect itself. How would its heart save another, if it couldn’t even save itself?

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this.

Barok stands in front of the enormous glass tank containing the merman, gritting his teeth and crushing the written agreement in his hand. It’s almost like a personal failure on his part. They could not figure out another way or disprove the hypothesis within the time limit. Those higher up had run out of patience.

The management had given them a final order.

They would cut out the subject’s heart and… EaT… iT. Head scientist Stronghart himself had offered to devour the organ to see if the stories of invigoration and immortality were true.

No longer able to bear to look at the captive merman, he presses a hand and his forehead against the glass, shutting his eyes as memories of his dearest brother wash over him. He had failed him so terribly bad.

“Klimt…” he murmurs against the glass tank, fogging the surface that meets his breath.

All his hopes of getting to see his brother’s smile again had been crushed with this last order.

His temples start to hurt from all the strain of his clenched eyes and gritted teeth, yet it takes tremendous effort to calm down. When he opens his eyes, he’s met by an unexpected sight.

On the other side of the dividing glass, the merman has his hand spread out on the glass where Barok’s hand rests, creating a mirrored image. Transfixed, he experimentally tapps with his index and middle finger and marvels at the sight of the other imitating his actions.

Merfolk were… intelligent. Sentient. Alive.

He knows that. He already knew that!

He… he can’t do this anymore. For too long had he turned a blind eye to the truth, letting the research and experiments cross multiple lines for anyone who had a smidge of morality. Officially all in the name of science, but privately in the name of his brother. The painful experiments they put this poor soul through were already inhumane and he was about to be executed, not for any crime, but for satisfying the curiosity of a selected few.

Does it even matter if they found anything? If this merman had to sacrifice its… no, his life?

Everything he did was for Kilmt, but with his body torn into shreds, barely anything recovered… there truly couldn’t be any way to get him back any longer. Besides, since Stronghart planned to claim the merman’s heart for himself, they would need another Merfolk's heart, needing to spill more blood. Even if they acquired another, if the results proved fruitful for Stronghart, he would have to fight tooth and nail to secure one for Klimt.

With that thought, a sudden realisation hits him. If eating a Merfolk’s heart could grant a healthy, long and even eternal life was proven without a doubt, that could spark an outright public hunt for Merfolk. There were already researchers, like him, lords of the underworld and dealers from the black market who scoured the Earth from them. If such mythical power were to become public knowledge, the Merfolk would be forced to go completely into hiding, never to be seen by man again. Humans would once again ruin the freedom and lives of another species… That is what Klimt and Genshin had fought to avoid. How could he have been so blinded by grief he chose to destroy any progress his brother had made instead of following in his footsteps and carrying on Klimt’s dreams?

He became a marine biologist to understand Merfolk and their needs, not to dissect and pick them apart. When had he let himself fall so far? Or is this the effect a siren can have, even without its voice? Did it really matter?

If he is this far gone in his thought already, he couldn’t be put further under the creature’s spell anyway. So for the first time, he allows his gaze to fully meet the bewitching eyes of the merman.

It’s the most breathtaking sight he’s ever seen. Those crystalline pools of colour in his irises, burning bright and beautiful like a sunset, transfixed Barok’s gaze and he finds that he does not ever wish to avert his eyes.

“Please…” he asks. What exactly he pleads for, he does not know. Guidance? Forgiveness? Nothing the other should wish to provide for him anyway.

The merman opens his mouth and moves his lips, forming a word he’s intimately familiar with.

“Ba ro k.”

He can’t deny it any longer. No more can he stick his head in the sand and pretend he doesn’t know exactly who this merman is.

“Kazuma…” He whispers into the air, exaggerating each syllable to ensure the merman knows what he just said. Almost as if a spell had broken, saying his name out loud makes it abundantly clear that he’s dealing with a living being. And not just any merman.

They may never have met in person, but given the close bond between his brother and Kazuma’s father, it stands to reason they’ve heard stories about each other before. At least Genshin always loved to talk about his dear son whenever the opportunity arose.

As much as he despised Genshin for betraying and killing his other brother and had imagined payback by harming his son, he hadn’t gotten any satisfaction from what he had done. If anything, he only succeeded to keep going by deluding himself, refusing to acknowledge his actions. But now that he has…

What that man had done was utterly unforgivable and he still feels distrust towards his child. But at the same time, other than in retaliation against those who captured, hurt and experimented on him, Kazuma had yet to hurt a soul to his knowledge. Any injuries received had also been minor, though if that was due to Kazuma’s limited movement range or intent, he can’t tell.

And he knows better than anyone, the terror of nearing Death’s door and being utterly powerless to change that fate on his own…

Before he realises it, he has climbed up the ladders, is now sitting on top of the tank and the hatch is unlocked. Similarly, Kazuma’s wrists have been freed from his chains. Barok must have pressed the button that unlocks them before climbing up.

He peers down into the opening of the tank and lets his gaze drown in the eyes of the merman looking back at him expectantly. Whilst maintaining eye contact, Barok swings his legs so they dip into the water and lets himself glide into the tank.

Barok finds himself underwater, face to face with the alluring merman, completely lost in the other’s bright orange irises. Kazuma leans his head to the left, presenting his neck and Barok knows instantly what he asks for. Reaching out with his hand, his fingers brush against the merman’s shoulder as his thumb presses against the sensor on the side of the voice canceller.

The device unlatches with a click and he hears Kazuma clear his throat before he is slammed against the walls of the tank, with Kazuma’s hands pinning his shoulders to the glass. The impact causes him to release the last bit of air that was in his lungs. If he is unable to get out of the water before his brain runs out of oxygen, well, if that was how he had to pay for his sins, then so be it.

Despite the sharp teeth on display from the snarling merman, Barok can’t help but find Kazuma truly beautiful. He reaches out with one hand to gently swipe his thumb along the small scales on the other’s cheekbone.

Kazuma’s expression morphs into something Barok couldn’t quite explain and closes his eyes while leaning his head backwards, similar to how one would intake an exasperated breath in dry air.

Suddenly he finds himself dragged up by the collar of his undershirt, breaking the surface and once again with his back crashing into the glass. Only this time, he lies facing upwards, with his legs dangling into the water and Kazuma on top of him.

“How stupidly daft can you be?” Kazuma speaks and Barok decides he enjoys the sound of his voice and it must show on his face, because Kazuma grimaches and forcefully covers Barok’s eyes and turns his head away with a webbed hand. “Cut it out! I’m not even trying to charm you and you’re already like this.”

“Kazu-” Barok croaks out before he starts coughing.

“Ugh, you Land Dwellers really are hopeless,” Kazuma sneers in disgust before pressing down on Barok’s chest. “Don’t even for a second think I brought you out of the water as a merciful act. I’m only letting you live since you are going to get me out of here. Now.”

Regaining some of his common sense after Kazuma’s intimidation tactics, Barok finally has mind enough again to retort. “Harsh words when asking someone for help.”

“Shut up! I have no qualms about trapping and leaving you in this tank, just like was done to me.”

“And then what, could a fish out of the water really escape on his own?”

“Don’t call me a fish!” Kazuma seethes, before glaring silently at Barok until he quietly speaks again. “If nothing else, I could at least prevent Stronghart from acquiring any more power…”

“Do you mean your heart? And what do you imply with more?”

“Stronghart already knows, you dolt!” Kazuma hisses. “Mine wouldn’t be the first Merfolk heart he has gotten his grubby mitts on. Long story short, that has been his aim this whole time. All other experiments have just been needless torture.”

“He… what?”

“Time is of the essence! Get me out and I’ll tell you more!”

Barok scrambles to get his bearings and gets to work. They need some means of transport for Kazuma and he grabs the trolley their research team have used to transport Kazuma between rooms before. He also needs a change of clothes. There’s no way he could avoid suspicion dressed in a soaking wet lab coat.

Their escape ends up going surprisingly smooth. No one really questions Barok for transporting the subject and those who do ask are satisfied with the explanation that the next experiment should be performed outdoors.

Of course, they did take precautions for an eventual questioning by placing manacles on Kazuma’s wrists, although without locking them. Additionally, the merman decided to lie still at the bottom of the transportation tank to give the impression that he was drugged and unconscious. But it was still almost alarmingly easy.

Before he knows it, the bright moonlight greets them as they exit the last set of reinforced doors to the research facility. Stars glimmer in the sky and Barok feels a stab in his heart for depriving Kazuma of such a beautiful sight for months…

“We made it out.” He breathes with relief. But he receives no response in return. “Kazuma?” He glances down at the unmoving merman, he remembers the water is mixed with sleeping agents for when they needed to perform maintenance on his usual tank.

Shit!

He got Kazuma knocked out for real… Barok ponders whether to make for the beach, return back or try to hide Kazuma up on the cliffs somewhere.

“My my, van Zieks,” a deep voice resonates from behind him. “Weren’t you on guard duty in the underground chamber? What could you possibly be doing out here so late?”

Barok slowly straightens his back as he turns around and faces the facility chief. “Good evening, Professor Stronghart,” he greets with a slight dip of his head, refusing to appear rattled in any way. “I was only bringing myself and the subject out to get some fresh air. It can be awfully stuffing in that cellar.”

Stronghart hums and places both his hands on top of his cane in front of him as he eyes the tank with interest. “So you say. Do tell me, who gave you authority to bring the subject outside its containment?”

“As the leading researcher, I made an executive decision to see how the fresh night air could affect the subject.” He had to strain himself to be able to say ‘subject’ about Kazuma. Which is near hypocrisy, he had no problems with such thoughts less than two hours ago. It’s almost scary how much the emotional bond he finally allowed can change how things are perceived.

“You should know better than anyone how we can’t have our personnel deciding what to do with our research materials on their own whims.” Stronghart shakes his head before he fixes Barok with an icy stare. “You weren’t planning on claiming the subject for yourself, were you?”

“No.”

“Honestly? You seemed quite shaken during our meeting today at the prospect of putting the power of a Merfolk’s heart to the test. I know you so desperately want your dear older brother back.”

“No, sir. If such was the case, then why on Earth would I bring the merman out here and not finish my business inside?”

“Less evidence of the deed,” Stronghart suggests nonchalantly and immediately. “I can imagine the whole ordeal will be quite a messy affair and there will be less of a need to clean up if you stay outdoors.”

The mere thought of Stronghart cutting up Kazuma made Barok’s gut churn and his mouth instinctively morphed to show his disgust.

“Although,” Stronghart resumes. “Seeing as you didn’t bring the necessary equipment and how you lack the knowledge of how to truly utilise a heart to bring back your beloved brother, I can see how my initial assumption was wrong.”

“As I already stated, I was only taking the subject out for a stroll. Staying too long inside that putrid lab cannot be healthy for his heart. Perhaps something you ought to try yourself someday, sir.”

There's a glint in Stronghart’s eyes, flickering just a moment, before he gives Barok a blank look, takes out his trusted pocket watch and flips it open. “Oh van Zieks, you never change, do you? No matter.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Barok catches a glimpse of Stroghart’s two guard dogs that the older man seems so fond of having around the perimeter of the research facility. As much as his body is screaming at him to step in between the dogs and the tank, he wills himself to remain calm and appear neutral.

“If we’re done here, I’d like to move on with my nocturnal promenade.”

“Certainly,” Stronghart replies way too easily. “But you are leaving the subject with me.”

Of course it wasn’t that easy.

“I’d rather bring him along. Our studies have shown moonlight being capable of amplifying their healing process.” It was true. The lunar cycle did seem to correlate with his healing rate. Though he highly doubted there was any causation.

“There it is again.”

“Pray tell, what do you mean, sir?”

“‘Him’ You keep referring to the subject with masculine third person pronouns. Of all our scientists, you have been the one most adamant about dehumanising this creature. What changed?”

He stopped sticking his head in the sand for one.

“I simply realised his mortality, now that he’s been put on death row. Even the worst of criminals deserve to be treated with common decency and be allowed their last words.“

“You are correct, of course, “Stronghart muses, before his expression turns grim, “regarding humans. Do not let this creature fool you. They are deceptive, masters of lying. You know as well as I how many men have lost their lives from associating with Merfolk.”

Barok struggles to not let his thoughts back into that loathing and terrible part of his mind.

“How could I forget? But I insist you leave us be. I’m still in charge of this project.”

“And I’m in charge of you.” Stronghart’s tone leaves no room to object. “As your superior, I believe it's best we hasten this process, before this creature steals your heart away first. Hand it over!”

Stroghart points with his cane towards the tank containing Kazuma and the dogs start closing in. Realising any chance to walk away peacefully had already passed him by, Barok throws out an arm and steps in front of Kazuma’s tank.

“Leave Kazuma be!”

“Oh, Kazuma you say,” Stronghart gives Barok an amused, yet also pitying look. “It already got to you then. Did you truly let such a creature charm you, after what happened to your brother? You know that one is Genshin’s spawn, correct? Have you learnt nothing?”

Barok nearly falters at those words. The complete backstabbing Genshin went through with still stings. Had Stronghart caught up to him just a little earlier, it’s entirely plausible that he would have surrendered to the other man’s wishes, but now, he was certain. He is certain his feelings on the matter were his own, not a product of enchantment or seduction.

Kazuma has been concealed from his view long enough for any hypnotism to wear off and he still firmly believes the torture and experiments must stop. Stop in a way that doesn’t result in the merman’s death.

“I might not be the best candidate to speak of humanity and mercy, but the guilt is weighing too much in my heart. Kazuma’s suffering must cease.”

“Isn’t that what we already decided today? We can end it as painlessly as possible, van Zieks.”

“I’d rather see an end that does not result in his death.”

“By sacrificing this one creature, we have the power and means to change the lifespan of humanity itself. I’ll give you one more chance,” he then proceeds to emphasise each following word. “Hand it over!”

Everything he had worked on, his whole career, would go up in smokes if he displeased Stronghart now. But if he surrendered Kazuma now… assuming Kazuma’s words about the experiments being unnecessary being true, he wouldn’t put it past Stronghart to ensure the merman’s last days on Earth would be filled with immense pain and suffering. Even if only to set an example of what happens if one gets too attached.

There’s also the matter of the rest of Kazuma’s story. He’s heard Stronghart and the humans’ side many times, but there’s always two sides to a story and he still had only caught a small implication of Kazuma’s.

He already knows something about Klimt and Genshin’s unusual demise is being concealed from him. And if Stronghart won’t tell him, he’ll have to look elsewhere. Regardless, Kazuma isn’t the one who wronged him and harming Genshin’s son won’t bring Klimt back unless Stronghart tells him how and that path was sealed off as soon as Stronghart volunteered to take Kazuma’s heart.

Having scanned the whole area and winding through multiple scenarios, he only sees one way to possibly escape with both their lives…

“Very well, then you may consider this as my official resignation.”

With that final quip, he grabs the handle of the cart and makes a mad dash up towards the edge off the cliff. He can hear Stronghart’s whistle command of attack after just a moment’s delay, but he does not look back.

Had there been less adrenaline flowing through his body, perhaps he would have considered the height of the cliff and the drop distance to the sea below. But there’s no time to stop and ponder any more frights, so with a burst of strength, he pulls the cart with such force it passes him and pushes it off the cliff. Without leaving any room for second thoughts, Barok throws himself after it, plummeting down towards the dark and stormy waters.

As he breaks the surface, the icy cold engulfs him and he struggles to regain his bodily functions after the initial shock. As soon as his control returns, he pushes himself above the surface to intake many staggered, deep breaths as he scours the waves for Kazuma.

His efforts are in vain above water. The darkness of the night alone disrupts his eyesight already. Coupled with the high sea, he quickly realises the chances of finding his companion are next to zero. Instead he draws in one enormous breath and dives underwater.

He whips his head around underwater, looking for any trace of Kazuma, but is unable to locate him before he has to refill his lungs with air once more. When he pops out of the water, he notices the cliff he jumped from isn’t covering the moon any more. He must already have drifted a fair bit from where he first landed…

Suddenly a wave, that had grown enormous when nearing land, washes over him and pushes him under water once again. As he scrambles to swim up and restock on air, he catches a glimt of red light reflected in the rays of moonlight that had to penetrate the waves.

Could it be?

Not wishing to lose track of his only lead, he attempts to swim over closer to the light. But no matter how many strong strokes he makes, he’s not closing the distance between them fast enough and he needs air.

His vision flickers and he struggles to keep his airways above water, but the black spots in front of his eyes keep increasing and he can barely manage to get any gulps of air before yet another wave swallows him.

He needs air.

He needs air!

He needs a-

Everything was dark, cold and suffocating. He had been careful! He had promised his brother he wouldn’t fall into the sea. The little crab walking funny along the rocks had just distracted him and he had slipped.

The ocean was a deep and a dark place. Especially for a young child who couldn’t swim. He was going to drown! Klimt would be devastated! Would his dear brother blame himself for Barok’s death? He hoped not. It was all his fault after all.

It was terribly scary. Awaiting one’s own death like this. Unable to do anything to prevent it. No amount of flailing with his limbs was enough to break him free from the current and he was pulled under. Deeper and deeper into the abyss.

But he was saved. A nimble and strong merman had found him on the brink of drowning and had brought him back to the surface. He and his brother would forever be indebted to the beautiful soul of Genshin, a Child of the Sea.

The first thing Barok notices is that his body hurts. All over. In places he didn’t even know could hurt, oh, and there's grains of sand in probably every crease of his body and clothes. Laying on his back with more sand and rocks digging into his back isn’t exactly helping either. He groans and opens his eyes and is met by the daylight seeping through some cracks in his surroundings.

When did it become daytime? Before he has time to properly ponder that question, he hears a slightly annoyed voice from around his feet.

“Oh, you’re awake then? Finally.”

With great effort, he pushes himself up on his elbows. Every joint in his body cracking as he rises.

Once his upper body is upright, he spots Kazuma leaning on his crossed arms near his feet on a rocky plateau where Barok now lies, while the lower part of the merman’s body seems to be hidden beneath the surface.

Taking in his surroundings, he concludes they are located in a small seaside cave. A hollowing in a cliff for which the only way in is blocked by Kazuma and the sea. It’s clear to him how he got here.

“You could’ve left me.”

Kazuma narrows his eyes as he meets Barok’s gaze. “I should have.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

Kazuma sighs and then dips down slightly before he heaves himself out of the water, turning around such that his back faces Barok and his tail sways gently in the water. From there, Barok can see the myriad of scars stretched out across his back.

“My body will never be the same after all of this, my lifespan shortened because of your ignorance,” Kazuma stated with an icy calm, fanning the guilt already gnawing within Barok, while restlessly splashing the water with his tail. “Forever tainted by the horrible torture Land Dwellers are capable of.”

“I…”

“No, shut up! I only needed you to escape that hellhole! Now you’re nothing more than a reminder, a bad memory of what I’ve had to endure!”

Barok’s mouth immediately snaps shut at the outburst. After all this, he deserves anything Kazuma decides to do with him.

“The only thing keeping you alive is your small shred of morality you’ve shown for the past hours, but more importantly… My father trusted you. You and Klimt.”

The pain in his heart flared up at the mention of his brother’s name. “It was Genshin who betrayed us!”

“No you imbecile!” Kazuma twists his upper body around so he can glare daggers back at Barok. “Where did you even get that preposterous idea from?”

Barok is taken aback by the conviction Kazuma says those words. How could his vision possibly be wrong? Why did he come to that conclusion in the first place?

Kazuma eyes his befuddlement with suspicion, analysing every twitch of Barok’s body before he slowly asks: “Did Stronghart tell you that?”

“...Yes.” It almost pains him to admit it. Why? The uneasy gut feeling he had carried since his brother’s demise was stronger than ever.

“Figures.” He almost misses the sad look in Kazuma’s eyes before the merman turns around again and straightens his back as he faces the opening of the cave. “I said I’d enlighten you.”

“Please.”

“The man you know as ‘Stronghart’ is recognised by another name for us Merfolk: ‘The Maelstrom’.”

“Maelstrom?”

Kazuma nods. “Yes, a terrifying Land Dweller who has been destroying our lives for almost two centuries by now.”

“Two centuries?!?”

“Yes, yes, that’s impossible for any single man of your kind, but I’m getting there!” Kazuma confirms in an annoyed tone before he continues. “Two hundred years ago, Land Dwellers were mostly legends for us. We knew you existed, but most of us had never seen your people. I imagine it was similar to you?”

“Quite,” Barok nods. “There was the occasional fisherman claiming to have seen a Merfolk, but most people wouldn't believe such outlandish tales without proof.”

“Right, most notably, none of you sought us out for our healing powers back then. That is, until the Maelstrom appeared, a curious Land Dweller who had managed to befriend one of our own once they met out at sea. There were no problems at first, they were just two beings curious about each other, learning all they could. But… we were too open.”

“Then… the stories of eating…” He feels like gagging. It’s just too terrible.

They fall quiet after that. Both lament the historical outcome as they listen to the broken waves lick the walls of the cave. He knew that the ‘Great Merfolk hunt’ had commenced about 200 years ago, but to think it was because of Stronghart… with such sinister intent too.

“How many?”

“Three we have been able to confirm. He was clearly after my father’s and mine as well.”

“Why?”

“Eternal life, of course. He seems to be going on and on about how he’s the only one who can preserve the world order or something.”

That certainly sounds like Stronghart… but there is still one more pressing question at the tip of his tongue.

“What really happened back then? Why was Klimt…”

Kazuma stays quiet for a long moment after that, but soon leans forward and dips his hand to gather some water in his palm. “From what I‘ve gathered, they were ambushed by Stronghart’s lackeys. Klimt… was probably at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or he’d been asked to come by Stronghart. Either way, I want to believe he tried to help my father, only to become collateral damage to get leverage on you.

As for my father, being surrounded as they were, he destroyed his own heart to ensure it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands…” Barok can see Kazuma curling in on himself, gripping his chest. “And I was prepared to do the same.”

Those last words were barely above a whisper, but they cut into Barok harsher than any screaming could ever do. He realised now, that while this whole ordeal was not a byproduct by scientists’ pursuit for more knowledge, their single mindedness and thirst for more had played a vital part in Stronghart’s agenda.

Klimt would be ashamed of him. He had only caused their good friend’s son harm and almost aided an misguided man in his quest for immortality at the cost of other lives.

Still, he can’t be sure Kazuma is telling the truth. Part of him is still too wounded from the betrayal he felt from Genshin.

“How can you know?” It feels like a horribly insensitive question at the moment, but he has to know.

“Know what?” Kazuma’s voice cracks. “How my father died? That it was Stronghart?”

“Yes. Can you show me any proof?” He pauses, then desperately whispers: “Please?”

Kazuma turns towards Barok with his whole body, lifting his tail out of the water. “You’re still alive. Isn’t that enough?”

“I wish it was… but since both you and Stronghart have kept me alive, I cannot help but worry you’ll do the same.”

“Keep you around as long as you’re useful and then just throw you away?”

Barok winces, but cannot deny the thought ever crossed him. “Perhaps… but I suppose that’s what I deserve.”

“You were given this chance to live.” There’s no remorse in Kazuma’s voice. “You could dedicate your life to right your wrongs and aid me in bringing down the murderer. Or, I’ll leave you here. But you should know the tide water will flood this cave.”

“It sounds rather pathetic when you put it like that.”

“That’s because the answer is obvious! Dying alone in a cave without even trying is no way to go.”

“Fitting, for a coward.”

Kazuma sighs angrily at Barok’s defeatist attitude and yanks his feet so Barok is pulled towards Kazuma with a yelp. The merman then manoeuvres himself with a grace Barok didn’t know he was capable of on land, such that he’s lying atop Barok, trapping his head between his folded arms with their faces not from each other.

When up so close, Barok can’t help but admire the small, emberlike scales speckled across Kazuma’s cheeks.

“You wanted evidence, right? Then let’s go find it!” Kazuma yells in his face. “My father and your brother fought hard to find any evidence or deeds connected to the Maelstrom and I intend to carry on their investigation!”

Despite the harsh tone, all Barok can think of is how Kazuma’s lips move around every syllable.

“If you’re even half the man Klimt was, you’d… are you even listening?”

So soft looking, yet glossy from the salt water.

“Ugh, why are you Land Dwellers like this?”

Suddenly those lips descend upon his own and all Barok’s thoughts come to a halt. Yet despite his blank out, his body knows what it craves, so he opens his lips to lick and nibble on Kazuma’s. Pleasantly, he finds Kazuma responding to his actions and they are soon locked in a searing kiss, their movements growing bolder as they taste each other.

Kazuma’s webbed hands steady the side of Barok’s head, being the final nail in the coffin that ensures his vision and world consists only of Kazuma. He drags his fingers along Kazuma’s scale covered sides as his tongue explores the other’s mouth, tracing his sharp teeth.

Far too soon for Barok’s liking, Kazuma pulls away. No matter how much he tries to chase after, he cannot rise high enough with one of Kazuma’s hands pressing down on his chest. For how out of breath Barok feels, Kazuma seems strangely unaffected as he looks down at him.

“Hmm, not quite as efficient as I thought, but your attention seems to have returned somewhat at least.”

Barok’s mind is still reeling. “Did we just…?”

“Kiss? Yes. Father told me it was a good way to get attention back from humans if they were ever being unreasonable or unresponsive.”

“He what?” Barok was dumbstruck at the offhanded way Kazuma admitted this. “Why would he say that?”

“It kinda worked, didn’t it? It’s a tactic my ancestors used back in the day whenever they needed sailors to come to them.”

Right, Barok had almost forgotten all stories of men being led to their death by the sight and songs of alluring Merfolk. It only made sense that some physical intimacy was part of the seduction. It’s embarrassing how easily he fell to them…

“Father also said it had made many conversations with your brother more efficient for him.”

“Wait…“ Barok blinks exaggeratedly at that, attempting to find out if he had heard that correctly. “Do you mean to say that Klimt and your father…?”

“I don’t get what you’re getting so riled up for?” Kazuma huffs from atop Barok. “Is there something else to this method I’m missing?”

“I’ll tell you later…” Baroks finally responds meekly.

Kazuma stays silent for a moment and searches Barok’s eyes, but eventually drops his gaze and pushes himself backwards with his arms so he can sit up on his tail between Barok’s legs.

“Fine, later then.”

He then flexes his tail such that he springs from the ground and magnificently cartwheels himself over to the edge where their current ground meets the sea.

“Now, will you owe up to your mistakes and make amends by helping me find the proof we need or would you rather stay here and let this site be your tomb?”

As Kazuma reaches out with his webbed hand, Barok thinks back on everything that had led up to this point. For why he allowed himself to do Stronghart’s bidding with no questions asked.

He finds that he does not wish to be contained anymore.

He shall be free. Free to see the truth with his own eyes and decide his life on his own terms.

The answer comes easy to him this time.

He takes Kazuma’s hand.