The campfire crackled, its glow casting warm light over the gathered figures. Lui sat among them, looking perfectly at ease, one arm draped over his knee, a casual smirk playing at his lips. He had worked his magic well.

It hadn’t taken much. A little hesitation on their part, a well-timed show of vulnerability on his, and the cracks in their wariness had formed almost instantly. After all, what choice did they have? He was alone, his team wiped out. He should have been just another corpse left to rot on the battlefield.

And yet, here he was, smiling, unarmed, speaking as though he belonged. A wolf among sheep.

He could feel it in the way they looked at him now—the way intrigue had softened into something dangerously close to trust. Pathetic. But undeniably amusing.

Then, the moment he had been waiting for arrived.

The air changed. A sharp, almost suffocating presence pressed against the camp like an unseen blade.

Lui didn’t need to turn to know who had returned.

Still, he did—just in time to catch the flicker of shock that crossed their face before it hardened into something more volatile. Their stance was rigid, muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike, and yet they didn’t move. Not yet.

Their blade was still wet.

Lui’s smirk deepened.

“Welcome back,” he said smoothly, the amusement in his voice impossible to miss. He gestured lazily to the people around him—their people, the ones who had been so quick to fall under his spell. “I hope you don’t mind—I’ve been keeping your friends company.”

The firelight illuminated the unmistakable fury in their eyes.

Lui found it adorable.