Kingsley speaks up first. Between the three of them, Kingsley was always the most similar to Lucien. Mollymauk had too soft of a heart. Soft and weak to the truth. “And what if we die? Of all of us, I thought we mattered the most. Hate to see that I was wrong.”

Lucien snorts. “You won’t die. I won’t allow it. As long as I’m here, the Somnovem won’t touch you two.”

“What if you’re wrong?” Mollymauk pipes up, his tail wounding tightly around his leg. “Come on, let’s not kid ourselves here. You barely have things handled despite how you claim you do.”

Lucien’s feels his tail lashing behind him in frustration. “Enough of all this what-ifs! I say you’ll be fine. Believe me!”

“Then tell us, Lucien!” Kingsley demands, spreading his arms out in mock cheer. “Indulge us in what-ifs! What would you do if we die? If Cree dies? Your Tombtakers?”

He doesn’t want to entertain such foolishness because it won’t happen. But Kingsley isn’t bulging, relentless in his pursuit of the goal. They don’t understand that he’s doing this for them, to better this cursed world. Lucien’s lips thin as he turns fully to face them.

“I’ll bring you back. Blood by blood, from every strand of hair, the tips of your claws to the curve of the peacock feathers. I’ll bring you back just like how you are now.”

Kingsley stumbles back like his words struck him. Similarly, Mollymauk looks as pale as Kingsley, almost like he was going to empty his lunch.

“Like Mum?” Mollymauk asks quietly, disgust and betrayal—why are you looking at me like that—on his face. “Like Da? Like they ‘brought’ back Elric?”

His stomach tightens, and fear trickles in at the awful memory of the Sock Brother resurfaces. The empty, hollow smile, the cold limbs that wrap around him in a mockery of a hug. A raven’s caw, the stale stench of new leather shoes. But Timorei curls around him, snuffling it out.

Right, he can’t fall here.

“No,” Lucien narrows his eyes. “I’m doing this for us. You just don’t see it yet.“ He tries to smile reassuringly, but it fits like an ill-fitted mask. "But worry not, the world I’ll make will be beautiful.”

Mollymauk shuts his eyes and takes a step back. “There’s always a cost…” His hand reaches out to grab Kingsley’s, his other hand remaining firmly at his side, tightly clenched. When he opens his eyes again, his expression hardens. “I don’t recognize you anymore.”

He feels the breath knocked out of him as another image overlaps Mollymauk. A beautiful infernal tiefling with black locks draped over a magenta shoulder. In her arms, she carries a bundle of budding life, shielding her from his touch.

 In another time, Lucien walks out the door and it closes without another thought. He doesn’t dare look back in case she peeks out the window at him. Deep down he hopes she did, but he knows she firmly averted her eyes and walked towards her new life.

Here is Mollymauk, standing tall as he pushes Kingsley out of the cave. He walks out the door with his own two feet, and neither of them looks back. Lucien can’t find it in him to give chase. Giving chase means looking back. His only path is forward. He exits the cave and heads towards his Tombtakers.