She could have killed him. She certainly came close. There was nothing to say he would not still die, and that just urged him on. He gripped his side, blood running between his claws, and he was not sure how much he had lost. How much could he lose? Would he have already been dead if he were all human? Maybe, for once, being half youma was actually useful to him. He could even be a little thankful for it, if he did not turn to dust or something on the way.

It was a mystery to him if his anatomy was still more human, where blood loss and internal damage was the biggest worry, or if he was going to turn into a pile of dust when his body met its limit. He needed energy to heal, that much he knew, but he could not think of anything more repulsive at the moment.

The last thing Merlinite wanted to do was resort to hurting someone for his own sake. Turn to the chaos inside him to aid him. That was the life he was trying to leave behind. He wanted to be Dennis, the friendly, if not a little confused, youma, if he could not just be Dennis.

He stumbled, getting dizzy, and leaned against a building. His claws scratched deep gouges into the brick as he pushed away from it, forcing himself forward again. There was no time for resting: that was just asking for trouble to catch up to him. Was he running from Painite still, or from the idea that this might be it? He doubted he could outrun the reaper, if it really was on his tail, but he was not going to leave anything to chance.

The very least he could do was try to survive.

And try he did. He had managed to get close to what he considered to be his safe haven. The large aura that at one time was repulsive to him, though it was still a little hard to stomach, beckoned welcomingly in the distance. If he could just make it to the library, maybe Camelot could help him.

Camelot always helped him.

Merlinite knew he owed far too much to the Royal Knight already. Camelot had taken him in when he was at his worst, trusted him despite having no reason to do so. In fact, Camelot should have hated Merlinite for all the things he did to help Painite, to tear Camelot’s family and friends apart. Even when he questioned working for her, he had not done anything to stop her. That inaction led to a lot of suffering for Camelot and his family. Merlinite was supposed to be the one making up for those sins, yet here he was, getting even more in debt.

Camelot gave him a home, a place to stay and hide, and he offered him protection. A youma, broken by Chaos, and something the White Moon soldier would probably have been better off dusting and being rid of instead of investing time and effort into him. Merlinite had wanted to be a knight, wanted to purify, but what if he had just been saying that to take advantage of Camelot’s kindness? It would not be the first long con he ever pulled, after all. That idea might have occurred to the Royal Knight, but it certainly had not stopped him from doing everything he could for his new dragon ally.

And allies they were. Merlinite would not be ruled by the chaos inside him: he was a knight, whether his body or aura reflected that or not. He was at the service of the Whte Moon, indebted over his sharp, coiled horns to them. Nothing would shake his loyalty, as long as he had the will and humanity in him to fight it.

Paying all the Senshi and Knights that had shown him kindness back, though, was going to be a long and difficult task. He absolutely could not let himself be killed now, when he was only just starting down this road of redemption. So he had to get a little more debt added on, and he looked up at the library woefully, but with hope in his chest. It was a long way up, and he was not sure he would make it, but he felt Camelot was standing up there, as he often was, on the roof.

Taking a deep, pained breath, he leaped at the building and did his best to climb his way up. He went one claw over the other, hauling himself up by inches, though his arms started to shake from the effort and he did not even reach the top of the first floor before he fell back down to the ground.

Camelot, thankfully, was looking down at him, waiting for him to climb up as he often did, so they could chat a bit. He wanted to catch up with the youma, see how he was doing, and, of course, ask him if there was anything more he could do. He’d brought some food for the other, courtesy of Kyndall, who had cooked up an extra serving for him as if he were part of the family. Even if he could never know who they were as civilians, and Camelot would never tell him of her. He always kept the safety of his home in the front of his mind.

He was surprised when he saw Merlinite’s pace. Usually the little dragon could claw his way up the side of the library in a matter of moments, but tonight it seemed like he was weighted down. When the youma fell off the building, Camelot’s protective instincts kicked into gear, and he moved to leap from the roof, landing heavily, but mostly without effort, on the ground nearby.

Soon enough, he was at Merlinite’s side, kneeling beside the half youma. It did not take long for him to see the wound to his side, as bloody and terrible as it was.

“Dennis,” he said, his voice filled with worry and ringing in Merlinite’s ear, echoing as if they were some great distance apart. Merlinite realized he was flat on his back, eyes closed but face toward the sky. When he opened his eyes, he was looking past Camelot, to the stars beyond. He groaned, shifting his gaze and doing his best to focus on the knight.

“Oh, hey.”

“What happened?!”

Camelot was not really in the mood for jokes, and he knew that was where Merlinite was going from his flippant, but tired and pained, tone. There was no way a half dragon would be admitted to the hospital, so Camelot’s go-to for helping the injured was immediately thrown out the window. He tore off some of the fabric of his cape, pressing it against the injury, though it was probably a bit late to try and stop the bleeding. It looked like it had already slowed on its own, which was not a great sign in itself.

“I-I ran into Painite,” Merlinite said, with a bitter laugh. The jerking motion of his chest that accompanied it made his wound burn angrily. It was like Painite was telling him to shut up. She always did like getting the last laugh. “Her spear ran into me, as well.”

“What can I do?”

Merlinite was not sure how to answer that, but it was not really something he needed to say. Camelot understood from experience alone how the Negaverse healed, and he knew what Merlinite needed most. Energy. A starseed, if he could get it. It was the only thing that would really help him, unless they could find a surgeon willing to ignore the fact that he was part monster.

Something told the Royal Knight that would be a little difficult, so the former option was the only viable one.

“I’m going to take you to Camelot,” he said, though that sounded a bit weird to Merlinite, who was drifting in and out of full consciousness now that his mind had settled on the fact that he was somewhere safe. It was like being on his feet for days on end and finally getting home to his familiar bed. The moment he hit that comfort, he was out like a light. His body stopped pushing, stopped fighting. He could let something else, or in this case someone else, take care of him.

Camelot picked youma up carefully, retreating from the side of the building to disappear down an alley. It did not take him much effort to call back to his Wonder these days, and soon enough he was standing on lush, green grass with a soft wind rustling through his armor and making his cape billow. Merlinite opened his eyes at the sudden change, no longer hearing the blaring horns of traffic, or the general rumble of day to day life in a city. Here, it was completely quiet, save for birds in the distance.

It was beautiful. His eyes widened as he looked around, shifting as best he could in Camelot’s arms, too wrapped up in what he was seeing to pay much mind to the pain that ripped through him in punishment for the movement. He spread his wing without noticing it, making it even more difficult for Camelot to carry him, since it was surprisingly difficult to walk in a straight line with a wing in his face.

But he could not blame Merlinite’s confusion and the way he seemed enraptured immediately. Most Negas never saw Wonders, or got to visit space or homeworlds. A few managed it, but always for nefarious purposes, and it was unlikely they enjoyed and valued the scenes they invaded during those times. This was different. This was peace, full bodied. Merlinite never thought he would ever see anything like it, as his chance to go to his own Wonder was stolen from him before he had ever learned what it was.

Camelot carried him into the castle, taking him to a familiar room where he sometimes stayed when he was taking some quiet time alone. Camelot, the wonder, was an incredible place for peace and for resting, and he had done what he could to fix up the rooms of the castle that he occupied the most. There was, of course, a ton of work left to do, but at least this place was starting to feel like a living home again, and not just a hollow corpse of something previously glorious. It might never make it to the status of grand castle again, but it was certainly an interesting project for Camelot in his down time.

Right now, though, he was focused on helping his half youma friend. He put Merlinite down on the bed, moving to dress the wound a bit better than he had before, now that he had some more supplies available to him. Always careful, one of the first things he did when he started his restoration process was bring a first aid kit. He was not exactly the most competent of handy men, after all, and was liable to hurt himself. His caution and self awareness was paying off now, at least.

“Dennis, I need you to take some energy from me. You can use it to help yourself heal, okay? And you can stay here while you recover. Painite cannot get you here.”

Merlinite woke up a bit from his daze at that, shaking his head.

“No way.”

“You have to.”

“No! I won’t use energy! I won’t be a Nega!” Merlinite struggled, as if Camelot was going to force him somehow by holding him to the bed, but of course there was no way he could. Instead, Camelot caught hold of him to stop him from hurting himself further, holding his claws down, but letting his tail whip around. Merlinite at least did not lash it at him, not willing to attack his friend, even in this moment of panic.

Camelot let him struggle for a bit, until he calmed and gave up, relaxing into the bed. He looked up at Camelot, silently indicating that he would behave, and the Royal Knight released him carefully. He sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking at Merlinite very seriously.

“I know you don’t want to. I understand, I really do. But this isn’t about being a Negaverse soldier, or fulfilling quotas, or hurting an innocent. This is about keeping you alive so you can do some good. Letting Painite win, letting her kill you, won’t mean anything. Being stubborn now is only going to hurt you, and you alone. There’s no room for pride or fear here: your life will always be more important. Do you understand that? Now I need you to take some of my energy, and rest here. I won’t hear any more protest.”

It was rare for Camelot to put his foot down, but that was certainly the tone he was using now. And his words rang home for Merlinite, making his chest sting and his eyes water, but he saw the meaning in them. Once again, he was going to have to owe Camelot a lot, and not just because of the energy. He was starting to think the Royal Knight would always be one step ahead of him, always understanding things better and seeing the bigger picture. That was probably a good thing, and just what he needed.

Even when it was hard to admit.

“I…”

“Go on, it’s fine. It’s not the first time for me, after all, and you can’t hurt me.”

Merlinite took a long moment before he finally lifted his claw up and carefully touched it to Camelot’s arm. He had at least learned how to control his mutated hands enough to not tear everything he touched to pieces. It was a good thing, as some of his senshi friends really liked hugs, and he did not want that to turn into a tragedy when it was meant to be a gentle show of affection. At the moment, though, he was only touching just enough to use the contact as a conduit. He focused on the energy he felt within Camelot, as he used to do when he was working to fill his quota for the Negaverse like a good little pawn. It moved toward him as he drew on it, and a little, glowing blue ball began to form.

It grew quickly, moreso than he thought it would or than he was used to. He had never drawn energy from a Royal before, of course, and certainly not from a willing victim. It was strange to not be met with any kind of resistance, and there was an incredible rush as he gathered one, then a second, and a third ball of energy before he could really stop himself. He pulled his hand away, looking in wonder at the glowing orbs, which had always seemed so beautiful to him and had not lost any of that splendor now despite his revulsion with the process and what it stood for.

Camelot seemed a little woozy, but no worse for wear, putting his head down and waiting for the strange rush of weakness to wash over him and his senses to restore themselves. He had energy to spare, in this stage, but he had given Merlinite a lot. He smiled at Merlinite’s nervous look, nodding his head and getting to his feet slowly.

“I’ll leave you here to rest, and to take that energy. I trust you to take care of yourself, Dennis. I’ll be back in a little while, okay?”

Merlinite knew what Camelot was doing, and nodded his head dutifully. Suddenly, this had become a test of his own character, as much as it was about saving his life. Everything seemed to be a learning experience these days, and he was growing in ways he had never anticipated, or even knew would be possible for him. He looked at Camelot and smiled, and the Royal Knight waved before he vanished, returning to Destiny City and letting Merlinite stay in this most sacred of places to him. The half youma looked around, the gravity of that fact settling on him, and the sheer amount of trust Camelot was putting in him with what might have seemed like a simple gesture.

He looked down at the balls of energy he had gathered, and they glimmered up at him in response.