ã€ŠSuper Geneticsã€‹


 Chapter 1: Supernova

    Part 1: Fallout

    Dirt piled upon Terry, dashing across his open mouth and eyes, clinging to his teeth and tongue as he tried to scream out in panic.

    I¡¯m being buried alive!

    Air sirens blared across the fields. Screams rang out from the nearby farmers. A wave of heat slammed into him, even as more dirt was shoveled onto his face and body. He clawed at the open grave, his tiny hands churning the soil. Something slammed into his chest, pinning him back into the hole.

    It was a hand pressing down on him. Slick, red flesh covered five spindly fingers.

    Before he could process what was happening, another wave of heat splashed across his exposed skin. He cried out in breathless pain.

    It burns! It hurts so bad! Is this it? Is this how I die? Buried and burned alive at the same time?

    The weight of his unfulfilled superhero dreams crashed down upon him, heavier than the soil he was buried under.

    Just minutes earlier, he had been holding hands with his mother as they strolled along the canal.

    ¡°I¡¯m too old to hold hands with my mom,¡± he had whined.

    To which she had replied, ¡°Just this last time?¡±

    She always said that, and he always gave in. The truth was, it made him feel better when she asked, like he was doing her a favor.

    It certainly wasn¡¯t because he enjoyed the smooth warmth of her skin. And he absolutely did not get a thrill from the subtle tingle of her power¡¯s natural expression on his palm.

    Holding hands was for babies and he was just doing her a favor.

    Thoughts of soft skin and pleasant tingles had been wiped away when the first person noticed the supers flying in low on the horizon.

    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± a nearby woman asked, pointing at the V-formation just cresting the distant trees.

    His mom¡¯s grip tightened on his hand and he tried to pull it away. She may not have been strength-based, but any A-ranked super had deadly strength in their body.

    ¡°Ow! Mom, you¡¯re hurting me.¡±

    She ignored him, her eyes snapping to Terry¡¯s dad across the field. He had been talking with one of the farmers until that moment. But something about his wife¡¯s gaze sent him flying into action. He began barking orders in ghoulish, then repeated them in English. His super-enhanced voice echoed across the fields.

    ¡°Alpha one and two, delay. Alpha three on me. Alpha four on the princess. Alpha five with my son.¡±

    His dad¡¯s voice had always carried a tone of command that Terry almost considered a superpower. He had heard it many times in his life, and even practiced it in the mirror when he was alone. Though he adored his mom¡¯s powers, the one thing he wanted to inherit from his dad was the power of that voice.

    But in that moment, that tone he had known for a lifetime had been tinged with something else, something he had never heard in the man¡¯s voice.

    Fear.

    ¡°What is it, mom?¡± Her eyes cast about the field, seeming to take in the entire situation in a single glance. When she looked down at Terry, there were no whites in her eyes. Instead, opaque orbs of silver stared back at him.

    When she spoke, it wasn¡¯t as his mom, but as a superhero.

    ¡°We¡¯re being attacked.¡±

    Attacked? The words were strange in his mind. But what she said next had him clutching her in a panic.

    ¡°Crunch will take you to safety while your dad and I hold them off.¡±

    ¡°No! I wanna stay with you!¡± He hated the fear in his voice. He wasn¡¯t a kid anymore.

    Then why was it that all he wanted to do was cling onto his mom¡¯s waist while she stroked his hair and told him everything would be alright?

    ¡°I know, sweetie. I¡¯m sorry, but there¡¯s no time.¡± Powerful arms wrapped around him. And they weren¡¯t his mom¡¯s. ¡°Take him out of here. Hurry!¡±

    Crunch¡¯s grating voice answered. ¡°Yes, princess.¡±

    He was ripped away from his mom, his hands clutching tightly to her clothes before she gently pulled them free.

    ¡°Mom! No, mom! I wanna stay with you!¡±

    But her back was to him now. He was hoisted onto Crunch¡¯s shoulder as the ghoul raced away at superhuman speed. The air was knocked from his chest as he bounced up and down. He tried to cry out, but his voice wouldn¡¯t come.

    Then his eyes caught on the sun glinting off the incoming supers and he gasped.

    Five shapes approached in the distance. They were flying low, swooping over the trees and down toward the fields. If Terry didn¡¯t know all of these supers by heart, he wouldn¡¯t have believed it.

    The Knights of Sol!

    Though Crunch was carrying him away faster than any normie could ever run, the Knights were still gaining on them. As they neared, Terry was able to spot out the individual supers from their costumes¡ªhe knew them all down to the smallest stitch.

    He spotted Lirian, the Siren, in the back, her sapphire-blue costume resembling the scales of a mermaid. Across from her, Tenebrous, the Shadow, broke from the formation and disappeared into the forest. In front of the Siren was Savage, the Primordial Man. He was a Duelist-class super, with burnt-orange fur covering him head-to-toe. Opposite him, the Scourge, who wore an emerald green costume embossed with insects and spiders crawling up his arms and chest.

    And finally, the glittering jewel of the formation, Sol himself. Golden chainmail covered the leader of the Knights, seeming to draw in strands of visible sunlight with a magnetic pull.

    The formation was suddenly sent into disarray as two ghouls were thrown into the air by Terry¡¯s dad like human-sized cannonballs. In the moment before impact, they unfurled from a tucked position, spreading their limbs wide, dagger-like claws extended. One ghoul bounced off Savage as the super lashed out with a powerful strike. The other was hit in the chest by a beam of golden light, smoke rising from its body as it tumbled back to the earth.

    A moment later, Sol, Siren, and Scourge turned to face Terry¡¯s dad. Savage continued onward, falling to the ground as he left Sol¡¯s aura and lost the super-given power of flight. That didn¡¯t stop the Primordial Man, who simply crouched in the dirt, then leaped into the air. A car-sized crater was left behind by the super¡¯s leap.

    Terry watched as the fur-covered man arced impossibly high into the air, before his trajectory flipped and he began falling back to the ground.

    What is he doing? Terry wondered. Why is he abandoning the fight¡ª

    His thoughts jumbled as an impossible idea began to form.

    Is he coming for me?

    He had only a half-second to dismiss the idea, reconsider it, then dismiss it once more, before all the confirmation he could possibly need landed with an explosive grunt just ten feet in front of him and Crunch.

    The impact of Savage¡¯s superhero jump shook the earth like a quake, and Crunch stumbled as the soil rocked beneath them.

    When the super rose from the newly-formed crater, he was surrounded on all sides by a five foot wall of churned dirt. A smaller, but still superpowered, jump took him over the lip of the crater to land behind Crunch and Terry.

    The ghoul slowly lowered Terry to the ground and the boy found his feet unsteady from being carried. He recovered his footing as quick as possible, afraid of looking foolish in front of one of his idols.

    Savage was even more impressive in person. He was seven feet tall, his muscles rippling as he rolled his shoulders. Dirt was matted in his orange fur, giving the super a feral look. When he spoke, his voice was deep and Terry felt it vibrate in his chest.

    ¡°I¡¯ve come for the boy. Step aside.¡±

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    Even hearing the words come from Savage¡¯s mouth, he couldn¡¯t believe it.

    ¡°M-me?¡± he stammered.

    Crunch¡¯s hand reached over and pulled Terry behind him.

    ¡°Give me the boy!¡± Savage growled.

    Terry flinched, his legs beginning to tremble.

    Crunch worked his jaw, struggling to form the words through a mouth full of jagged teeth. His voice grate like a foot stepping on broken glass. ¡°Come and take him¡­flesh bag.¡±

    Savage let out a bestial roar, while Crunch remained eerily silent. The super¡¯s legs flexed and he launched toward Crunch with superhuman speed. Terry was suddenly thrown away as Crunch sidestepped. He landed in the dirt, his head whipping against the ground.

    Crunch was standing to the side, tufts of burnt-orange fur tangled in his claws. Savage was nowhere to be seen. Terry struggled to lift his head, but it felt so heavy. He tried to force it, but the movement made him dizzy and he nearly puked.

    An ear-splitting roar came from the pile of dirt built up around the crater Savage¡¯s entry had made. A moment later, the soil was violently lifted in the air as the super burst out of the mound. It took Terry a moment to realize that Savage¡¯s attack had sent him headlong into the pile.

    The image of a world-famous super leaping out of a pile of dirt was irrationally funny to him, like one of his Saturday morning cartoons. A distant part of him realized that his life was in danger, but he couldn¡¯t help it¡ªthat was funny!

    I hurt my head, he thought. This shouldn¡¯t be funny.

    Then Savage lunged toward Crunch again and the seriousness of the situation settled in.

    He¡¯s trying to kill your bodyguard, Terry. You should really, really, be concerned. Maybe if I tell him that I have his poster on my bedroom wall, he wont want to kill me? It was worth a shot, right?

    But as he opened his mouth to say, I¡¯m a big fan, Savage! I have your poster on my wall, the absurdity of it hit him like a fist and he kept his mouth shut.

    Savage launched himself toward the ghoul¡ªmore measured this time. But Crunch managed to dodge at the last moment, his claws not doing much on the super¡¯s powerful skin except to give him strips of bald patches exposing pale flesh beneath.

    The haze obscuring his thoughts began to thin as he watched Savage launch himself at Crunch like an enraged bull. What had been funny moments earlier now had Terry¡¯s limbs trembling.

    What was I thinking? ¡®I¡¯m a big fan?¡¯ More like, I¡¯m a big idiot. He¡¯s here to kill me, or at least hold me hostage.

    Terry watched, frozen with terror, as Savage missed a lunge for the fifth time, skidding to a halt just past Crunch. Movement around the super¡¯s waist drew his eye, but the fog in his brain made his thoughts sluggish. Too late, he realized what the super was doing.

    The dense fur around Savage¡¯s waist parted as his tail unwrapped itself. As his leap took him past the ghoul, he used his prehensile tail to wrap around the undead¡¯s arm. Crunch reacted almost instantly, striking down with deadly claws. But Savage¡¯s strength and fortitude were an order of magnitude greater than a ghoul¡¯s¡ªeven an elite like Crunch.

    Stupid. So stupid! he scolded himself. Why didn¡¯t I warn Crunch about the tail?

    The ghoul¡¯s claws did nothing against the tail, and the super used the grip to launch himself once more toward the undead. With a bone-piercing roar, Savage embraced the ghoul, pinning Crunch¡¯s arms to his torso.

    Crunch struggled to free himself, but the strength disparity was too great. As the ghoul attempted to angle his claws to dig into Savage¡¯s flesh, the super opened his jaw unnaturally wide. Great, ten-inch long fangs pushed through his gums and the super chomped down on Crunch¡¯s shoulder with one powerful bite. With a twisting of his head, he separated the arm at the joint, casually throwing it away like a man finishing a chicken wing.

    The shock of seeing Crunch dismembered broke Terry from his frozen state. He climbed to his feet, stumbling for a moment as a wave of dizziness took hold. The super opened his jaw wide once more, angling to consume the ghoul¡¯s entire head.

    Resolve filled his shaking limbs and steadied his bout of dizziness. And then, he charged the super.

    ¡°Get away from my friend!¡± he shouted, ramming his shoulder into Savage¡¯s haunches.

    He bounced off the super with a cry. Pins and needles stabbed into his arm as tears formed in his eyes. His vision went white from the pain.

    It felt like an eternity passed before fur-covered feet came into view. Through the pain and disorientation, he willed his eyes to track up from the feet, to the legs, and finally, to the animal face of one of the supers he had always idolized.

    Only to see a look of absolute disgust on Savage¡¯s face.

    ¡°Weak. Stupid.¡± Savage snorted and shook his head. The wave of hot breath and damp-smelling fur cloyed inside Terry¡¯s nostrils. ¡°If you were smart, you would have honored your ghoul¡¯s sacrifice by fleeing. Instead, you watch it die, then attack a god with the body of a mortal.¡± He reached down and grabbed Terry by his injured arm, sending a fresh wave of mind-numbing pain flashing through his entire body. ¡°You Fairways are all the same. Must be the inbreeding. Makes you simple¡ª¡±

    A familiar voice sounded from behind the super. The tone was casual, but the words carried the weight of a death sentence.

    ¡°Sometimes, simple courage can be more powerful than the strongest super.¡±

    Savage¡¯s eyes went wide and his grip on Terry loosened as he whirled around. Without a word, the fur-covered man tried to leap away. But bone-white, grasping hands reached up from the ground and clutched his ankles.

    Terry¡¯s grandfather stood behind Savage, his bone mask covering everything but his eyes, which were two red flames like the embers of a dying fire. Armor of exposed rib shielded his torso, and likewise his legs. In his hands rested a scythe that echoed quietly with the cries of captured souls. Its shaft was entirely black wood, while its blade was made of shaped bone.

    The Emperor of the Long Night, Traveler of the Underworld, and ruler of the Free-City of Wichita, casually strode toward Savage as the super struggled against the spirits pinning his feet.

    With a contemptuous stroke, he reaped the world-famous superhero, the bone-blade passing through fur, flesh, and organs without catching on anything.

    When the blade emerged from the other side of Savage, the super¡¯s body was completely intact. Only his spirit had been consumed by the Emperor¡¯s scythe.

    In the distance, a cry of anger echoed impossibly over hundreds of meters. His grandfather whirled toward the sound, just as a flash of light appeared on the horizon.

    His grandfather hissed something in ghoulish even as he smashed his blackwood scythe into the dirt. A dome of blue-white spirits appeared over Terry, his grandfather, and Savage¡¯s corpse. Terry¡¯s eyes burned as the light in the distance blossomed.

    What was that? he wondered, as the sky brightened noticeably¡ªeven though it had already been a cloudless day with plenty of sun.

    Something heavy landed on top of Terry and he cried out in pain.

    He was forced to close his eyes as heat washed over him. The spreading warmth was bearable at first. But over the next few seconds, it continued to rise, until he was screaming from the scorching heat. He was hoisted into the air and tossed over a mound of dirt. He fell unnaturally far, his body not hitting the ground as expected, but rather, falling into a hole. In a distant part of his mind, he realized that it was the crater made by Savage¡¯s landing.

    The pain in his head and his shoulder were his entire world¡ªuntil that first pile of dirt fell onto his face. His chest ached as he tried to scream, but no sound came.

    He was being buried alive.

    He struggled to claw his way out of the grave, his tiny hands shoveling uselessly at the soil. His lungs felt scorched and the dirt threatened to suffocate him. But through his panic, a distant thought surfaced.

    The heat was finally bearable¡­

    He latched onto that thought, processed it through his muddled brain, until he realized that Crunch had been the one that buried him¡ªnot to kill him, but to save him from the heat.

    The heat!

    Sol had gone supernova. That was the flash of light on the horizon and the unbearable heat scorching the air.

    Was there anything left of his home above this temporary grave.

    Was this grave even temporary?

    Time passed¡ªhe didn¡¯t know how much¡ªand his thoughts continued to slow, like his brain was trudging through a muddy river bank.

    The first thing he noticed was the light searing his eyes, forcing him to squeeze them tight. For a moment, he feared another strike from Sol had gone off, that his dirt covering had been vaporized from the intense heat, exposing him to their enemy¡¯s final strike.

    But a hand gripped his arm¡ªnot a ghoul hand, with its butcher knife claws, but a human hand. He opened his eyes, blinking away the dirt and the spots of light as he looked up.

    Staring down at him were two red flames peering through an ivory mask.

    ¡°Grandfather?¡± he tried to say. But his throat was coated in dust and scorched dry.

    ¡°Don¡¯t try to speak,¡± the familiar voice rasped. He was hauled effortlessly out of the hole and sat down by its edge.

    The air was uncomfortably hot and his skin burned, but anything was better than staying in that dirt hole for another second.

    To the side, Crunch lay still, one arm missing while wisps of smoke trailed off his body. Terry forced a trickle of saliva into his mouth, then swallowed painfully to wet his throat.

    ¡°Crunch?¡±

    His grandfather peered over at the ghoul with a flick of his ember eyes.

    ¡°I told you not to speak.¡± His tone was full of command and Terry didn¡¯t dare violate his orders again.

    But he couldn¡¯t stop thinking of Crunch, whose skin seemed to smolder under an invisible heat. Crunch, who had sacrificed himself for Terry.

    His eyes were pulled away as his grandfather stood up and faced the origin of the light. The dome of spirits had been a perfect mesh of interlocking hands. But now, they churned in the heat haze, their grips visibly loosening before Terry¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°This ends now,¡± his grandfather muttered to himself. He grasped his blackwood scythe in two hands, like a wizard wielding a staff, and smashed it into the soil.

    Once. Twice. Three times.

    A pealing echo of ethereal voices rose up from all around Terry. Grasping hands emerged, and even a lifetime spent surrounded by the unliving hadn¡¯t prepared the boy for what happened next.

    He cried out as a million screaming spirits burst up into the air. They weaved through the sky and each other, a dreadful howl echoing painfully. He slammed his hands over his ears, but it did little good. As they arced high into a sky dyed white with Sol¡¯s heat, the sun began to fade.

    Terry watched in utter disbelief as the dome of spirits formed above them, echoing the smaller dome that had first protected them from the worst of Sol¡¯s supernova. But this ceiling of interwoven spirits stretched as far as he could see in every direction, dimming the sun¡¯s rays until it seemed that night had fallen in the blink of an eye.

    On the ground, a dense fog seeped from the earth, rising like the spirits that had preceded it.

    Within moments, Terry could barely see his grandfather, let alone Sol or his remaining Knights.

    The only thing he could see, was Crunch¡¯s limp body as the lingering heat on his skin burned away the nearby fog.

    ¡°Crunch?¡± he asked softly, forcing sound through his scorched throat. The ghoul opened a single eye, his other eye covered by skin that had melted like the wax of a candle. When Terry saw that small movement, his heart leapt. ¡°Crunch!¡±

    Terry reached through the dirt, using his single good arm to pull himself forward, when two arms wrapped around him and hoisted him to his feet. Before he could reach the ghoul bodyguard that had been his shadow for as long as he could remember, he was dragged away.

    ¡°Let me go!¡± he cried feebly, but the hands gripping him weren¡¯t human and no matter how hard he struggled, he¡¯d never manage to pry a ghoul¡¯s grip away.

    ¡°The Emperor sent us, my prince,¡± a harsh voice hissed in his ear. ¡°Do not resist. We¡¯ve been given a Supreme Order.¡±

    ¡°Help him!¡± Terry shouted. ¡°He¡¯s one of you. Why won¡¯t you help him?¡±

    But they ignored his pleas and Terry was forced onto the ghoul¡¯s shoulder. As the undead bounced away with leaping strides, his dislocated arm and scorched skin spiked wave after wave of fresh pain through his body. The air was forced from his lungs even as he tried to cry out.

    After what felt like an eternity, his vision went black and he passed out.

    In the distance, at the edge of the horizon, a pinprick of light flashed once more, then guttered out, like a candle snuffed by the wind.

 Chapter 2: Death of the White Rose

    When Terry came to, it was to the sound of his father¡¯s voice shouting nearby.

    He sat up in a panic, his limbs tangled in the dirt.

    They¡¯re coming for me, he thought. Why are they coming for me?

    But the realization hit him a moment later; he wasn¡¯t buried in the dirt of the farm he had been visiting with his parents, but rather, the heavy linens of a bedsheet. He looked around in a panic, then spotted the familiar posters on the wall, the action figures lined up on the windowsill, and the desk where he sketched the various supers that he admired.

    His eyes tracked over the poster of Savage in an action shot, his jaw opened unnaturally wide, revealing forearm-length fangs, just before he ripped through one of Mechlord¡¯s super-soldier robots.

    A shiver traced up his spine as the memory of those fangs tearing through Crunch¡¯s shoulder replayed in his mind.

    His dad¡¯s voice echoed through the door, drawing Terry¡¯s attention back to the reality of the situation.

    ¡°He deserves to know!¡±

    Terry realized with a start that there were two ghouls standing guard by his door. Their eyes tracked over Terry, but their bodies remained impossibly still. Not even the slightest shift of their chest to signal the intake of air.

    All his life, he¡¯d been surrounded by the unliving. He even considered a ghoul one of his closest friends. But in this moment, for the first time, he felt an unease around the elite guards of his grandfather¡¯s city.

    A commanding voice answered his father.

    ¡°Knowing will only hinder his Awakening. You will obey¡ª¡± The voice cut off and Terry strained to hear what was said next. ¡°He¡¯s awake. We¡¯ll continue this conversation later.¡±

    Terry shot back against his pillows as the door handle turned. Standing in the doorway was his father. James Fairway was a well-built man with raven-black hair tinged by gray at the temples. His piercing green eyes landed on Terry and the boy flipped back his covers, prepared to run into his arms. Then he noticed the man standing behind him.

    His grandfather shared the same physical traits as his father, his eyes, hair, and body type close enough that they could have been brothers. But where his father¡¯s hair was beginning to gray and the corners of his eyes were slightly tight with wrinkles, his grandfather had flawless black hair and skin as smooth as a teenager; the extended lifespan of a S-ranker on full display next to his older-looking son.

    Maintaining the training embedded in him from a lifetime of practice, he stood from the edge of the bed and bowed his head.

    ¡°Hello, grandfather.¡±

    His eyes studied the carpet as he waited to be acknowledged. After a moment of silence, he dared to glance up to see if he had offended the ruler of Wichita.

    The first thing he noticed when his eyes tracked up was the scowl on his father¡¯s face. Though it wasn¡¯t directed at Terry, he understood that his father was not pleased with his reaction.

    Did I bow wrong? he wondered.

    Then he stole a glance at his grandfather, who was scanning the room with a look that Terry couldn¡¯t identify.

    After a moment of tense silence, his grandfather¡¯s eyes finally landed upon Terry, and the boy quickly averted his gaze.

    ¡°How are you feeling, grandson?¡±

    Terry lifted his head, standing up straight now that he had been recognized by his grandfather. Rather than answer right away, the boy took stock of his body in a careful fashion, focusing his attention on each limb individually before replying.

    ¡°My right shoulder was dislocated, grandfather. It appears to have been set while I was unconscious. Minor burns on most of my body.¡± He hesitated, afraid of making an inaccurate assessment. ¡°I think Dr. Wong must have healed the worst of it.¡±

    He studied his grandfather¡¯s face closely, trying to pry into the Emperor¡¯s thoughts. His eyes flicked up and down Terry¡¯s body once, then rose to look past Terry, at the far wall.

    ¡°Take those down,¡± he replied tersely.

    The boy whirled around, forgetting to stand at attention in his panic. Behind him, the poster of Sol dominated the center of the wall. His glittering gold chainmail shined in the sun, giving the super a halo of light like the Jesus of before.

    Terry turned back, the words ¡®Yes, grandfather¡¯ on his lips, before he realized that all he could see of the Emperor was his trailing cape.

    His grandfather had gone.

    He turned to his father, who hadn¡¯t said a word. ¡°Di-did I do something wrong?¡±

    His father¡¯s face was set, his lips pursed tight. ¡°No, son.¡± He glanced at the ghouls flanking him on either side of the doorway, a fleeting expression passing over his face before placing his stoic mask back on.

    He played that expression back in his mind, trying to parse the emotion he had witnessed, even as his father continued, ¡°I have some news, Terry. It¡¯s¡ª¡±

    His father stammered and all thoughts of analyzing the man¡¯s expression fell away as Terry jolted in surprise. He had never seen the uncertainty or doubt in his father that he saw now.

    ¡°What is it, dad?¡±

    His father¡¯s lip quivered and the man looked away suddenly. He rushed over to the desk and leaned heavily against it, his whole body shaking.

    Terry looked on in horror, frozen in place even more so than when Savage had attacked him.

    This wasn¡¯t the Prince of Twilight, the Commander of the Unliving legions that had solidified the Free-City of Wichita over decades of war and struggle. This wasn¡¯t the man who had always maintained a quiet dignity and a commanding presence.

    This wasn¡¯t his dad¡­

    He stepped quietly toward his father, afraid to make even the slightest sound as his hand stretched out uncertainly.

    His hand never touched his father¡¯s shoulder. He stood a foot from the man, letting his arm fall to his side as he looked around for guidance.

    How did you steady the man that had always been as steady as a rock?

    The two ghouls standing at the door stared straight ahead, as if embarrassed by his father¡¯s emotional display. He wanted to reprimand them, remind them who his father was. But the air was heavy. So heavy. To break the silence felt like the ultimate sin.

    After a few more moments, his father took in a wracking breath, stood upright, and composed himself by running his hands down his shirt to smooth the wrinkles. When he turned toward Terry, his usual neutral expression was back in place.

    The only evidence that anything unusual had occurred were the streaks running down his face.

    ¡°Son¡ª¡± His voice quivered and he cleared his throat. His shoulders rolled back and his chest puffed out. His gaze rested just above Terry¡¯s head, not quite meeting his eyes. ¡°Son, I have something to tell you. It¡¯s about your mother.¡±

    Mom! He hadn¡¯t even thought to ask.

    Terry glanced at the hallway, expecting her to walk through the door any moment.

    ¡°Mom? Where is she?¡±

    His father¡¯s breathing hitched and Terry¡¯s mind went completely still. The man¡¯s jaw clenched over and over again, and Terry wondered if his father would answer him at all.

    As he opened his mouth to ask again, his father spoke up suddenly.

    ¡°Your mother is gone.¡±

    Gone? Gone where?

    ¡°Where¡¯d she go?¡±

    His father ignored him, rubbing a hand across his face. They came back wet and he stared at the moisture, his eyes unfocused.

    ¡°Dad, I¡­I don¡¯t understand.¡±

    James¡¯ gaze snapped to Terry, his eyes narrowed. ¡°Don¡¯t make this more difficult than it already is,¡± he barked. ¡°She¡¯s gone. Don¡¯t you get it? Gone!¡±

    Terry recoiled, his legs bumping against the bed. His heart was pounding in his chest. He was scared and he didn¡¯t know why.

    His father sighed, closing his eyes. Terry watched as he took three deep breaths, then looked at him.

    ¡°She¡¯s dead, Terry.¡±

    No, that wasn¡¯t right. His mother was the most powerful super in Wichita¡ªother than the Emperor. If he wasn¡¯t so scared right now, he¡¯d call his father a liar.

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    Instead, he settled on, ¡°How?¡± Once his father explained, he¡¯d be able to tell the man why he was wrong. Why his mother wasn¡¯t dead, but maybe¡­ missing?

    James chewed his lip a moment before replying. ¡°She struck down Siren. The feedback killed her.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mouth opened but he couldn¡¯t form any words. Siren? Killed?

    The words had no meaning in his mind. He said them to himself over and over again, but no matter how many times he repeated them, they remained foreign concepts in his thoughts.

    His father looked to the side, his eyes tracking over something on the wall. Terry followed his gaze and his eyes went wide. James rushed over to the wall with heavy strides, his hands gripping the poster on either side. It was a poster of his grandfather from before he formed the Free-City of Wichita, when he was a powerhouse superhero fighting against the supervillains of old. The Lord of the Long Night, Traveler of the Underworld, Lord Necroton himself, as he had been known at the time. With a growl, his father ripped the poster away, tearing it down the middle before throwing it into the lit fireplace.

    ¡°Dad¡ª¡± Terry started, but cut off as the man strode over to the next poster, tearing it down as well before tossing it in the fire beside the Necroton poster.

    Then the next and the next, until Terry¡¯s walls were barren. Heavy, black smoke filled the room and Terry wasn¡¯t sure if his tight throat was from the smoke or the deluge of tears threatening to burst forth.

    He didn¡¯t know what to say as his father followed up the posters with his action figures. He knew he needed to say something, but the connection between his brain and his tongue was severed. It was all he could do to tamp down the sob rising in his chest.

    A minute later, James stormed from the room without a word, his face streaked with black soot and tears. Terry watched him go with a tight chest before throwing himself down onto his bed.

    He finally allowed the dam to break, his still-aching shoulder sending waves of pain through his body with every wracking sob.

    One of the ghouls silently snuffed out the fire, while the other opened the window. A wave of black smoke washed out into the dark sky.

    <hr>

    Days later, Terry stood by his father¡¯s side before his mother¡¯s casket. They still hadn¡¯t spoken and though Terry desperately craved to hug his father and be hugged in turn, he refused to do so until the man apologized.

    So he stood by the open casket in stubborn silence, staring down at his mother¡¯s lifeless face.

    She was as beautiful in death as she had been in life. Full lips, high cheekbones, and a graceful jaw that had made her a superhero icon well before she was Terry¡¯s mother.

    But where her face had once been tanned and full of life, it was now pale and ghastly.

    He felt his father¡¯s presence at his side like a magnetic pull and it distracted him from his grief in a way that irritated him. He almost broke the silence between them to demand his father leave him alone by the casket. But no man¡ªliving or undead¡ªhad ever commanded James Fairway to do anything, except for the Emperor himself. And despite Terry¡¯s simmering rage toward his father and the heavy grief that sat deep in his chest, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to lash out at the man.

    So he stood there in stubborn silence and allowed himself to feel the grief he had been holding back. His throat tightened as he remembered sunbathing by the river with his mother, splashing in the water before air-drying on a rock outcropping. His eyes moistened as he thought back to the week before, when his mother had indulged him and played hero and villain with him in the courtyard.

    Her laugh echoed in his mind and the tears broke free. He bent over the casket and pressed his lips to her forehead, closing his eyes as he breathed in her hair one last time.

    When he stood back up, he gazed down at her and realized that he had smeared the makeup on her face. He reached over with his thumb and wiped away the signs of his tears and the outline of his lips, but he only made it worse. The heavy makeup came away on his thumb, revealing something beneath.

    Underneath the foundation and blush was her exposed skin, a streak of red and white lay there, like a gash cutting down to the bone. He reached out his hand once more to wipe away the makeup and take a better look, when an iron grip wrapped around his wrist.

    He looked up at his father¡¯s face. His expression was pained, streaks of tears cutting divots down his cheeks. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. Then, maintaining his grip on Terry¡¯s wrist, used his other hand to smear the makeup back into place. What had looked like a deep gash was now simple makeup once again.

    Before Terry could question his father¡ªcold shoulder or not¡ªa rush of movement erupted by the door. He turned to see two dozen ghouls file in, forming two lines leading toward the casket. Their unnaturally lithe bodies were bent at the waist, their eyes cast to the carpet.

    Following them were two hulking patchworks. They stood nearly ten feet tall and were as wide as a car. Their limbs were stitched together from various undead parts and they wore black steel masks over their faces. The smell of their half-rotten flesh invaded the viewing room, nearly gagging him. But that, Terry didn¡¯t mind. What set his teeth grinding was the aura of indifference they projected, like this was any old court appearance. Unlike the ghouls, they didn¡¯t bow or show deference to his mother. They simply strode into the throne room.

    He would have considered yelling at them to get out, if not for the man behind them.

    Standing in the doorway was his grandfather in full superhero regalia. His face was covered by his bone mask, his ember eyes blazing in the open sockets. He wore his set of bone armor, though his scythe lay strapped to his back rather than clutched in his hands.

    The memory of that scythe passing through Savage with contemptuous ease played over and over again in his mind. He wasn¡¯t comforted by that image¡ªjust the opposite, actually. It terrified him in a way he couldn¡¯t understand. The casual disregard for life, the harvesting of a soul that now languished inside that unnatural weapon. The burning embers of his eyes, lifeless and cold despite the flames. A wave of unnatural terror washed over Terry at the sight of his grandfather.

    This isn¡¯t a man. This is the reaper, whose throne rests upon the bones and trapped souls of his enemies.

    That dissociation crystallized in his thoughts and for the first time in his life, he considered the Emperor strolling down the aisle as just that¡ªthe Emperor. Not grandfather, not his father¡¯s father, but the super who ruled the city with an iron fist. The super who commanded the unliving and the living with equal parts brutality and coldness.

    As if giving life to his thoughts, five men and women came into view behind the Emperor. No, former men and women.

    The Emperor¡¯s revenants bore all the hallmarks of being human¡ªnormal hair, clothes, and wrinkles marring their flesh to signify that they had once been living. The only indications that they no longer lived and breathed like him was the pale, bloodless skin that spoke of a lack of circulation and the stillness of their chests that reminded him more of a ghoul than a person.

    He had once feared the revenants, zeroing in on all the traits that set them apart from the other supers he so admired. But over the years, some of them had become his greatest friends and frequent tutors. His eyes locked on Nick Halleck¡ªWhipvine as he was known to most¡ªand the man flashed him a sad smile, the scars on his face stretching gruesomely in a way that would have once sent him crying to his mother. Now, he felt comforted by his friend¡¯s war-torn features, longing instead to run into the man¡¯s arms now that he felt so distant from his father. But he wasn¡¯t so cruel or so grief-stricken as to embarrass his father and himself like that. Instead, he returned Whipvine¡¯s ugly smile with a nod.

    Behind the Emperor, the other revenants were in moods as eclectic as their appearances. Cillian Fletcher¡ªaka War Crimes¡ªwas in full tactical gear, a pistol on his hip and a rifle slung behind his back. He was young, blond hair cut short with piercing blue eyes that seemed to twinkle like he was in on a joke that no one else could hear. Beside him, in stark contrast, stood the Professor in stereotypical tweed, patched elbows, and twice-broken glasses hanging on for dear life on the edge of her nose. It was unclear to him if these were affectations of her costume or if the woman really dressed like this, even at funerals. He didn¡¯t know her that well and she had rigidly maintained distance and professionalism in his presence, as opposed to Whipvine¡¯s boisterous familiarity. Across from her was Sebastian Vatal¡ªaka Mesmer¡ªanother tutor of Terry¡¯s and one he considered a friend. Mesmer was much older than the other revenants, indicative of Awakening late in life¡ªwhich meant that he was even older than he appeared¡ªone of the Originals, like the Emperor. He also sent Terry a sad look, though it was lacking the exuberant charm of Whipvine¡¯s dancing scars.

    The fifth and final revenant of his grandfather¡¯s coterie was a hard-bitten woman with leathery skin and a permanent scowl. Patricia¡ªaka the Iron Maiden¡ªwas a Catalyst who could manipulate metal by touch. She was a nasty former supervillain notorious for disregarding collateral damage during her time among the living. Terry had personally watched the video of her collapsing a skyscraper in Dallas before her capture by a coalition of supers, including his grandfather. He¡¯d been forced to shut the video off midway and still dealt with nightmares for weeks. His mother had shot dark looks toward Patricia for even longer. She was affectionately known on the web and HeroWatch as the Iron Bitch and Terry had even heard his mother refer to her as such when she didn¡¯t know he was listening.

    The five revenants assembled behind the Emperor, but didn¡¯t proceed into the room. Instead, they lingered at the entrance as if expecting one more person. Mesmer glanced behind him with a worried expression, turning back to examine Terry for a moment before looking away. Whipvine¡¯s expression was less concerned and more furious.

    Terry caught the man¡¯s eye and furrowed his brow in question, but Whipvine just shook his head.

    A moment later, he understood why.

    A sixth revenant appeared behind the rest, seven feet tall and covered in burnt-orange fur.

    A fist clenched Terry¡¯s gut, twisting it inside him until he thought he might puke. His father¡¯s hand gripped his shoulder and he felt it anchor him despite everything.

    Savage took his position beside the Iron Maiden, returning Whipvine¡¯s hateful stare with a lopsided smirk. The bestial super scanned the others, then saw Terry staring at him open-mouthed. Savage¡¯s smile twisted into a snarl, exposing fangs that crept from their gum sheaths in quiet threat. James pulled Terry away, turning the boy toward his mother¡¯s peaceful face.

    The coolness of her pale skin shocked him from his instinctive terror and his anger flashed hot once more. Not toward Savage, who was now a thrall to the Emperor, but toward his father. He shrugged off the man¡¯s hand, taking a step away to create distance.

    ¡°Terry,¡± his father whispered, the pain ringing clear in his voice.

    But the pain couldn¡¯t touch him, not on his island. Nothing would touch him here.

    ¡°You should have warned me,¡± he hissed back, not even sparing his father a glance.

    That was all he would give the man. Let him seep in that, knowing that he was failing as a father¡ªjust as he had failed as a husband to protect Terry¡¯s mother.

    The Emperor strode into the throne room, killing any chance for James to react. Terry could feel the naked desire in his father to bridge the looming divide, but his mother¡¯s dead face stared back at him and he couldn¡¯t make himself care about the man¡¯s feelings. Not right now.

    When the Emperor and his revenants passed by him and climbed the dais to his throne, Terry inclined his head in respect, but felt none of the filial love he had harbored from before. It was like a switch had been flipped that he couldn¡¯t flip back. He wanted to¡ªit would be so much easier to lean on his surviving family, his father, his grandfather. He just¡­couldn¡¯t.

    The Emperor passed his scythe to one of the ghouls at his side, then turned to sit on his raised throne. His six revenants followed behind him, arraying with three on either side. Whipvine, Iron Maiden, and the Professor on one side, while War Crimes, Mesmer, and Savage took the other.

    Once he and his revenants were settled, the Emperor waved his hand imperiously.

    ¡°Begin.¡±

    The undead servants rushed to the door and began ushering in those who had been patiently waiting outside. Slowly, the trickle of human and undead filed into the throne room to get in line. Though Terry understood they were here to pay their respects to his mother, he inexplicably found himself loathing them all.

    And not just the viewers, but the man at his side and the Emperor sitting above them all on his throne.

    He let his father usher him to a nearby seat, but he felt the change as clear as day. He stood resolute on that island in his mind, the connections he had previously felt to his father and grandfather severed as if the Emperor¡¯s blackwood scythe had sliced that invisible thread forever.

    He squirmed as the sycophants and attention-seekers wept and wailed over the corpse of his mother, hating them more and more with every breath. The impotent anger inside him dominated his thoughts. He wanted to lash out, berate and scold each and every last one of them.

    And then, a moment of clarity struck him like a single, perfect chord. He made a decision in that moment, deep within his heart. One that he wouldn¡¯t violate no matter how deep his hatred went.

    They would never see his hate, or his sadness, or his anger.

    He would give them nothing.

 Chapter 3: An Unlikely Friendship

    Later that evening, his mother¡¯s body was paraded out to the masses. Night had reigned over Wichita for nearly a week and Terry wondered if he¡¯d ever see the sun again. The fog cloyed heavy to the streets and large floodlights fought to illuminate the procession.

    He considered asking his father when the sun would return, but couldn¡¯t bring himself to break the heavy silence between them.

    The Emperor¡¯s court, along with Terry and his father, observed from the palace promenade as an honor guard of living and unliving escorted the open casket down the boulevard cutting in front of the palace.

    Where those of the court had grieved extravagantly, almost theatrically, in order to garner attention and one-up their rivals with their display, the common citizens watched the procession stoically. They bowed their heads in solemn respect and tossed white roses¡ªhis mother¡¯s superhero symbol¡ªon the street and the casket as it passed.

    A loud cry suddenly went up from the crowd below, echoing up to the promenade with an ethereal quality.

    ¡°Long live the White Rose! Long live the White Rose!¡±

    The somber crowd burst to life and took up the chant.

    Only when the casket passed, turning down a corner and out of sight, did the chants falter, then finally extinguish. The crowd began to murmur restlessly, lost expressions on their faces.

    Among the distant relatives and court officials on the promenade, it was impossible for Terry not to notice the uncomfortable shifting of feet and the awkward glances cast toward the Emperor. In their efforts to win his attention, they struggled to gauge how they should react. To them, Terry¡¯s mother had always been an outsider, an interloper coming to claim their rightful dues.

    But to the common people, she had been a beacon of light, now snuffed out against the backdrop of a seemingly-eternal night.

    I will be that beacon of light, Terry promised. I will pick up the mantle my mother was forced to drop in death. Not now, maybe, but I will¡­I swear it.

    Slowly, the crowd filtered away, drawn back to their homes by the unnatural fog that whispered of death and the Underworld.

    <hr>

    The next morning, Terry woke to the sound of bells tolling through the open window. He didn¡¯t know when he had fallen asleep, only that the pealing tone echoing throughout the city signaled the morning.

    He rolled over with a groan, wrapping his pillow around his ears to drown out the noise. A sodden wet patch pressed against his neck and he threw away the wet pillow with a groan.

    When he looked out the open window, he was momentarily taken aback by how dark it was outside. The morning bells should have brought the sun¡ª

    Realization dawned on him and his stomach dropped. For a moment¡ªthe briefest moment¡ªhe had forgotten about Sol¡¯s attack and the Emperor¡¯s response. He had forgotten about his mother¡¯s death.

    How could I forget?

    He was a terrible person. What kind of son could forget their mother¡¯s death only a week later¡ªeven for a moment? He had been too annoyed that the morning bell had woken him up to remember what had happened.

    With a shout, he threw his other pillow against the wall. He wanted to hit something, throw something that would break, do damage. He eyed his computer, every ounce of his being demanding that he throw it out the window.

    What did he need video games for? His mother was dead.

    And then he thought about how she would have reacted if she saw him take out his frustration on expensive items. That disappointed pursing of her lips, the subtle arch of her brow.

    His anger evaporated in an instant, replaced with a bone-deep sadness. His chest ached with longing.

    To see her, just one more time¡­

    His eyes went wide as an idea came to him suddenly. He rushed to the computer, not bothering to sit down as he frantically typed in the search bar.

    <blockquote>

    White Rose superhero

    </blockquote>

    He left the query open-ended, not sure exactly what would come up. He hit enter and the search results populated a moment later. Video after video featuring his mother appeared on his screen and his throat tightened.

    He closed the search window with a forceful click. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to see her¡­not yet.

    Turning away from the screen, he jumped in surprise as he noticed the two ghoul bodyguards standing by his door. They were intently staring at the far wall, their eyes glued to a single spot. He vaguely recognized these particular ghouls, though their species in general tended to be difficult to differentiate to humans.

    But a lifetime among the unliving had given Terry some tricks to tell them apart. These ghouls were ones that he saw in his grandfather¡¯s court regularly¡ªelites among their caste. The one on the left had a distinct red and black marbling on his arm, and Terry had mentally identified him as Bloodstain, because of the way the coloring looked like a bleeding wound. The one on the right was unusually dark-skinned for a ghoul, the shade of its skin edging towards a purplish-red¡ªburgundy, his mother had once informed him¡ªwhereas most ghouls had a blood-red coloring.

    Terry had very originally dubbed him Burgundy.

    ¡°Did you weirdos watch me sleep?¡± he asked with crossed arms.

    The ghoul on the left¡ªBloodstain¡ªanswered with a slight bow. His tone was clipped, but he was able to enunciate much better than Crunch ever had. ¡°We were instructed by Emperor not let out of sight.¡±

    His brow furrowed. ¡°We¡¯re safe here¡­aren¡¯t we?¡±

    ¡°Of course, my prince,¡± Bloodstain replied.

    He thought about arguing. If they were safe, why did he need two ghouls watching him while he slept? But there was no point. If his grandfather ordered it, then it was done.

    Still, he couldn¡¯t help but feel awkward in his own room, the two ghouls only feet away as he considered what to do with his free time. His tutoring sessions were canceled for now and normally, he might have turned on a video game or finished painting one of his superhero figures. But none of that mattered now. He felt both restless and incapable of doing anything that brought him joy from¡­before.

    As he eyed his computer distractedly, the two ghouls began whispering to each other in ghoulish. His ears perked up, but he pretended to fiddle with his computer screen while he strained to hear.

    [¡­tell¡­him¡­] Burgundy whispered.

    [We must¡­]

    [¡­will not¡­happy]

    Though he¡¯d lived among the ghouls his entire life, his ear for ghoulish was sub par. He turned to look at them, but their eyes were still glued to the far wall. They stood stock still as if they hadn¡¯t just been whispering.

    ¡°What are you two whispering about? Something you wanted to tell me?¡±

    Their eyes didn¡¯t even flicker as he addressed them. He crossed his arms and sat back against his desk.

    ¡°You¡¯re gonna ignore me now?¡± he asked wryly.

    Burgundy twitched, then began whispering in ghoulish to Bloodstain. The other ghoul whirled on his partner and began speaking in a scolding tone¡ªat least, that¡¯s what Terry thought it was. Whatever it was they were saying, his patience was gone.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Spit it out,¡± he demanded.

    Bloodstain turned back to Terry and bowed deeply. Waist still bent, his grating voice filled the room.

    ¡°This one,¡± he said with a wave toward Burgundy, ¡°suggested you want know some information. While agree, not servant¡¯s place to say.¡±

    Terry sat up from the edge of the desk, his interest sparked. ¡°Information? About what? Go ahead, you can tell me.¡±

    Bloodstain was still bowed at the waist, but Terry couldn¡¯t miss the subtle flick of the ghoul¡¯s eyes toward his partner.

    ¡°It about your bonded servant¡ª¡±

    ¡°Crunch?¡± Terry rushed over to the ghouls, pulling Bloodstain up from his bow. ¡°What about him? Is he okay?¡± He felt his throat catch as he remembered the ghoul shielding him with his body.

    How had he forgotten about Crunch? That settled it, he was a terrible person.

    Bloodstain hesitated, his jagged teeth quietly grinding as Terry stared into his eyes. After a moment, the ghoul looked to his partner and Terry had the impression they were in an uncomfortable position.

    ¡°Please,¡± he said, grabbing onto Bloodstain¡¯s arm. ¡°I need to know. Is he¡ªDid he¡­?¡± The thought of his friend dying to save him was too difficult to put into words.

    I can¡¯t lose anyone else¡­

    When it was obvious Bloodstain didn¡¯t want to answer, Burgundy bowed his head. ¡°That one is¡­evolving¡­¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide, then narrowed.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°That one badly maimed,¡± Bloodstain interjected quickly. ¡°It decided he better serve¡ª¡±

    ¡°Take me there at once!¡± he demanded, using his best impersonation of his father¡¯s tone. His voice squeaked in an undignified manner and his skin flushed with doubt. But the undead were conditioned to following orders and didn¡¯t balk at his demand.

    ¡°Yes, my prince.¡±

    <hr>

    He strode through the lower depths of the catacombs filled with a fury that burned away thoughts of his mother, Sol, or the eternal night that extended over the city.

    They were going to recycle Crunch! After he saved my life!

    The living and the unliving servants alike sensed his mood as he passed them. He had rarely walked the halls of the palace without his parents, whose presence tended to overshadow his own. And he had preferred it that way; he was much more comfortable in their shadow than casting his own light.

    That wasn¡¯t his reality anymore and he was still coming to terms with it. His mother was gone and he wasn¡¯t speaking to his father. It was time to forge his own path.

    So he sped through the hallways with the expectation that anyone not named Fairway would scurry out of his way.

    Which they did.

    Not that he enjoyed the feeling of instilling fear or anxiety in those who served faithfully. But this was Crunch¡¯s life hanging in the balance. Weighing that against someone¡¯s feelings was no contest at all.

    When he arrived outside the ¡®Evolution Chamber¡¯ as it was officially called, he was met with two slabs of towering meat standing on either side of the door leading into the chamber.

    ¡°Move,¡± he said. Then, because he was uncomfortable being rude, even to undead servants who were generally oblivious to tone, he added quietly, ¡°¡­please.¡±

    The slabs of meat in question were the hulking undead known colloquially as patches. They were crafted from the discarded parts of both human and undead, and imbued with a wraith formed from the fallout of a distant war. They were twice as tall as Terry and just as wide. He remembered these undead hulks from his mother¡¯s casket viewing, but had never interacted with them personally. As far as he knew, they mostly stayed in the catacombs except for certain occasions.

    Probably because they smelled bad. Like, really bad.

    His eyes were facing forward, waiting expectantly for the patches to step aside. When it became clear that they had no intention of doing so, Terry took a handful of steps back so he could gain the appropriate leverage to look up into their eyes.

    ¡°I said, please move.¡±

    Their faces were covered in black, steel masks¡ªto shield the identity of their donor¡¯s face, perhaps¡ªso all Terry could see were their eyes. They were mismatched, as if they had been taken from four different people. The hulk on the left had one brown eye and one blue eye. The other had a hazel-green eye and a blue eye.

    Did they take a set of blue eyes and split them between the two? That seems¡­wrong. Like separating twins at birth.

    But his idle thoughts drifted away as those four mismatched eyes set upon him. They were too small for their bodies and would have been funny looking if they weren¡¯t so intimidating.

    He found himself taking a half-step back as they regarded him silently.

    At his side, he felt Bloodstain step forward.

    ¡°Your prince give order¡ª¡±

    Terry cut the ghoul off with a raised hand. Something niggled at the back of his mind¡ªsome feeling or premonition. Though his interactions with the patchwork caste of undead were limited, he could feel some subtle expression of their thoughts¡ªwas that their auras? he wondered briefly.

    Whatever it was, one thing was clear: they were not impressed.

    ¡°Listen, I¡ª¡± He faltered, unsure how to proceed. A part of him wished that he had just let Bloodstain handle the situation for him. The undead guards wouldn¡¯t have an open brawl in the palace catacombs and no matter how icy the patchworks acted, they would never harm the Emperor¡¯s grandson. They would let him through, eventually. But would it be in time? What if the liches were dismembering Crunch right now¡ªor whatever it was they did in the Evolution Chamber? ¡°That ghoul in there, the one about to be recyc¡ªuh, evolved. He¡¯s a friend. I know the unliving believe strongly in community, sacrificing themselves willingly for the larger group. And I know that a damaged ghoul would better serve the Emperor through evolution¡­but I just lost my mother and¡­¡±

    I can¡¯t lose my friend, too.

    A voice sounded from down the hall, grating on his ears like two blades scraping against each other.

    ¡°My prince? Why you here?¡±

    Terry whirled around to see Crunch standing at the end of the hall, flanked by two liches. He was missing an arm at the shoulder and his left eye was still covered by melted skin. But Terry would have recognized the ghoul just by his grating voice.

    ¡°Crunch?¡± he cried, racing past Bloodstain toward the ghoul. He closed the distance in a flash, throwing his arms around the undead¡¯s waist. Crunch seemed unsure how to react at first, then awkwardly patted him on the head.

    It wasn¡¯t exactly a hug, but it was the closest physical contact he¡¯d experienced since his mother¡¯s death.

    After a moment, Crunch delicately extracted Terry from around his waist, though the boy could tell that Crunch was happy to see him.

    ¡°This one honored, my prince,¡± the ghoul said in halting English. ¡°But should not be here.¡± He cast a reproachful look toward Bloodstain and Burgundy that made Terry furrow his brow.

    ¡°And why¡¯s that?¡± He crossed his arms and scowled, mimicking his father¡¯s expression when the man was displeased with the servants.

    ¡°Evolution sad for human¡­prince lose much already.¡±

    ¡°You are not being recycled.¡± Crunch¡¯s single eye blinked at the word. ¡°You¡¯re my friend and I¡¯m not going to let you die.¡±

    The lich on the left spoke up, its voice a sibilant hiss. ¡°We are the unliving, my prince. We do not die. We only evolve into higher life forms or return to the Underworld. For us, that is not death, but a homecoming.¡±

    ¡°Even so.¡± Terry leaned in, lowering his voice despite knowing that the undead in the hall could hear his every word. ¡°I still need you, Crunch.¡±

    ¡°This Blessed has been damaged,¡± the second lich interjected. ¡°His function is compromised.¡± Crunch¡¯s teeth grated together audibly, but he said nothing to dispute the lich¡¯s words. ¡°To better serve the Bonesplinter clan and our protector, the Emperor, he must be repurposed¡ª¡±

    Terry gripped Crunch¡¯s wrist, imploring the ghoul to hear his words. ¡°I need my bodyguard, now more than ever. Your prince needs you. I need you, Crunch. ¡°

    Crunch slowly extricated his arm from Terry¡¯s grip, taking a step back. The boy¡¯s shoulders slumped and he could already hear the ghoul¡¯s polite reasoning as to why he had to be recycled. He was already preparing more reasons for Crunch to stay, but instead of arguing, the ghoul bowed deeply at the waist.

    ¡°As my prince commands.¡±

    <hr>

    With Crunch at his side, he felt a little bit lighter. Not happy¡ªhe couldn¡¯t imagine a time when he would ever be happy again, though plenty of people told him that time healed all wounds¡ªbut there was a slight loosening of his grief, that ball sitting in the center of his chest unclenching ever so subtly.

    That slight relief was shattered when he went down to the dining hall for breakfast.

    The room was bustling with activity. Human servants were coming and going through the kitchen entrance, clearing off plates or refreshing the food on the buffet table against the wall. Seated at the long table dominating the center of the room were at least a dozen of Terry¡¯s distant relatives¡ªand some not so distant.

    At the head of the table sat his Aunt Julia with her two children¡ªMaxina and Marcus¡ªnearby. She was middle-aged, the corners of her eyes just beginning to wrinkle. She possessed the trademark green eyes of the Fairways, but had light auburn hair where his father¡¯s was raven-black. That auburn hair was tied back in a severe bun, pulling the skin of her forehead taut. Supposedly, she had once been a stunning beauty. But next to his mom, she might as well have been a ghoul.

    He had always found her tight features off-putting.

    She wasn¡¯t really his aunt, as her father had been the Emperor¡¯s youngest brother before he died. That made her his father¡¯s cousin, but he had always referred to her as Aunt.

    Which made Maxina and Marcus like his cousins, though they were just young enough that Terry had never played with them growing up¡ªand had never wanted to, really. They were crybabies and were rude to the servants, which he didn¡¯t like.

    But even worse than that, the three of them had been some of the loudest grievers at his mother¡¯s casket viewing, when he knew for stone certain that Aunt Julia had always whispered nasty rumors behind his mother¡¯s back.

    Something about being unpowered had stuck a bone in Aunt Julia¡¯s teeth and she had never forgiven Terry¡¯s mother for that fact. He had even heard rumors that his father and Aunt Julia had been betrothed once upon a time¡­until she failed her Awakening.

    The thought sent shivers up his spine.

    Now, watching the distant relatives all flock around Aunt Julia made him want to throw something. They were acting as if she was replacing Terry¡¯s mother, like she was the princess-apparent. He couldn¡¯t be around them¡ªnot yet. Maybe not ever.

    He backed away, starting to turn, when he finally processed the conversation they were having.

    ¡°I always thought she was a Topeka mole sent by Sol,¡± one of the distant relatives hissed. ¡°Who would have thought she¡¯d die protecting the city?¡±

    ¡°Please,¡± another said with a sarcastic tone. ¡°The little tart got caught in the collateral. She was always leaving Wichita¡ªin the dead of night or in a body bag.¡±

    Blood rushed to Terry¡¯s face and he whirled back, frozen with indecision. A part of him wanted to charge in there and tell his family off. But another part of him recognized that those were his adult relatives. Who was he to scold adults¡ªeven if they were saying vile things?

    He was frozen in the doorway, his thoughts a jumbled mess.

    Am I a coward for not defending my mother¡¯s honor?

    He knew what his mother would say. They¡¯re ignorant and silly. Arguing with ignorance is like yelling into your pillow. It might feel good at first, but did you really accomplish anything?

    He¡¯d just back away. They hadn¡¯t noticed him yet. It wasn¡¯t worth it. Just turn and walk out. No sudden move¡ª

    ¡°Little Terry?¡± a voice called out. ¡°Is that you?¡±

 Chapter 4: The Emperors Revenant

    He was frozen in place, his body vibrating with adrenaline and anxiety. But then he remembered how they had been talking about his mother and a fire ignited in his chest. He eyed Aunt Julia and the others with a cold look.

    The expressions on their faces said it all. How much had he heard?

    He wasn¡¯t strong enough to let them feel his anger. The confrontation sounded both exhausting and terrifying. And even if he were, his promise echoed in his mind. He wouldn¡¯t give them the satisfaction.

    Forcing his lips out wide in some semblance of a smile, he replied, ¡°Hi, Aunt Julia.¡± His body felt stuck at the threshold into the dining room. Common decorum suggested he should grab breakfast from the assembled buffet and sit with his family.

    Common sense screamed at him to whip around and sprint out of the room.

    In the end, he found his feet moving forward of their own accord and he reluctantly accepted his fate. As he strode to the array of food, Crunch followed him in, only a half-step behind. Bloodstain and Burgundy trailed at the door, but had deferred to Crunch since Terry had rescued him from recycling.

    As Terry reached for a plate, a shocked gasp startled him. Turning toward the sound, he saw a half-dozen wide eyes staring toward him. His little cousins¡¯ mouths were wide like saucers, while his aunt¡¯s lip curled up in a scowl. At first, he thought their looks of disgust and shock were directed toward him¡­until he followed their stares and realized it was Crunch that had grabbed their attention.

    ¡°What is that¡­thing doing here?¡± his aunt asked with open disgust.

    Terry pointedly examined Crunch, who was scanning the corners of the room and even went over to the buffet table to glance under the tablecloth¡ªfor what, Terry wasn¡¯t quite sure. The room had no doubt been swept recently by ghouls, and they had passed by a dozen more patrolling the halls on their way up from the catacombs, but Crunch took his duties seriously.

    ¡°It looks like he¡¯s making sure the room is safe,¡± Terry answered with a shrug. He started piling potatoes topped with melted cheese onto his plate. His mouth filled with saliva at the smell and he realized that he hadn¡¯t eaten since the viewing. For some reason, it had felt wrong to eat more than the bare minimum so soon after¡­everything.

    ¡°I can see that. What I mean is: why hasn¡¯t that thing been recycled?¡± she asked, her tone icy.

    The room stilled.

    When Terry glanced up from the buffet table, everyone at the table was glancing between his aunt and him. Then, his eyes tracked over to see her clutching Maxina and Marcus to her chest¡­as if Crunch were dangerous. For some reason, that angered him even more than her tone. The mere suggestion that the ghoul who had saved his life only days prior would somehow go on a rampage in the palace and eat her stupid little brats.

    He purposefully continued piling food onto his plate, afraid that if he looked at his aunt, she¡¯d see his contempt for her.

    ¡°He¡¯s perfectly capable of serving as my bodyguard,¡± Terry replied, scooping a heaping pile of scrambled eggs onto his plate with a bit more force than was strictly necessary. ¡°There¡¯s no reason to¡ª¡± He stopped himself from using the term recycle, because it felt like piling even more disrespect on top of his aunt¡¯s rude question. Though he didn¡¯t agree with their sense of sacrificing their bodies to their clan, he should at least respect their traditions. ¡°¡ªevolve. I want him with me and he¡¯s agreed.¡±

    ¡°Well, that just won¡¯t do, nephew,¡± she replied with a huff. ¡°You know my uncle¡¯s stance on recycling damaged servants.¡± She snapped her fingers and waved her hand toward the door imperiously. ¡°Ghoul, report to the Evolution Chamber to be recycled.¡±

    Terry¡¯s plate clattered to the table before he could stop himself. He whirled on his aunt and took some small pleasure in the wide-eyed expression on her face.

    ¡°No.¡± His tone was flat.

    Her eyes hardened, narrowing to thin slits as the corners of her lips turned down. ¡°What do you mean, ¡®no,¡¯ young man? You¡¯re a child and I am your elder. This servant is damaged and hideous and scaring my little darlings. It must be recycled!¡± Then she leaned back in her chair, lifting her chin with a haughty expression. ¡°The Emperor¡¯s orders are very clear on the matter.¡±

    Heat rose to his face and his legs trembled. His mind was mired with adrenaline and indecision. Seeing this, his aunt¡¯s face shifted slightly. There was the smallest twitch at the corner of her lip that might have been a smirk. It was the look of someone assured that they were about to get their way.

    He had always treated adults with respect and deference¡ªhad been raised to do so by his own mother. But something about her death made him question things that had once seemed important. Even though it had been important to his mother, he had to wonder: what was the point in treating obviously terrible people with respect?

    He took a deep breath to steady his voice. ¡°I¡¯m not sending Crunch to be recycled,¡± he said with as much confidence he could muster. ¡°My father won¡¯t make me.¡± It sounded childish even to his own ears, but he meant it. If she tried to force the issue, he¡¯d ask¡ªbeg, if needed¡ªhis father to intervene. Even if it meant breaking his pact not to speak to the man until he apologized.

    He thought that would be enough to dissuade her, but her smirk only widened.

    ¡°Your father isn¡¯t in the city,¡± she said. ¡°He¡¯s gone to invade Topeka.¡±

    That threw Terry off and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, ¡°Father left?¡± Without telling me? he added silently.

    She nodded with obvious glee. ¡°The Emperor, as well.¡± She gently extricated herself from the children on her lap and pushed back her chair. Coming around the table, she approached Terry. Behind her, he could see all the distant relatives watching her approach with equal parts fear and fascination. They were enjoying Julia throwing around her weight, so long as it wasn¡¯t directed at them.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    As she approached, he was reminded of her towering height. She came to a stop in front of him, forcing him to look up. The divide in their adult-child relationship was suddenly vast and insurmountable.

    ¡°As the oldest Fairway left in the palace, it¡¯s my duty to guide the servants and the family.¡± She put a hand on his shoulder that felt the opposite of comforting. ¡°And with your mother gone, it falls on me to fill that role. Now, do as I say, Terry. It¡¯s what your father would want. What your mother would want.¡±

    His whole body trembled. The spot where her hand rested felt red-hot and he wanted to bat it away. More than that, he wanted to hurt his aunt for even mentioning his mother. He wanted to say, she was ten times the woman you are. But the words were stuck in his throat. Despite his rage, he was also intimidated. Who was he to argue with an adult? He may have been a prince, but he was also just a child. The living and the unliving servants would do as she said, with his father and the Emperor out on a campaign.

    Whipvine! He could find Whipvine. The old Duelist would side with him. He loved Terry¡¯s mother and despised Aunt Julia¡ªthe perfect ally. His stomach flipped as he realized the flaw in that reasoning.

    Grandfather¡¯s master-of-arms and arguably strongest revenant wouldn¡¯t stay behind while he marched to war. Father is gone, Whipvine is gone¡­mother is gone¡­

    With no parents and no allies, what could he do?

    He wrestled with these thoughts as his aunt nodded sadly. ¡°Good boy.¡± To Crunch, she waved her hand dismissively. ¡°Report to be recycled.¡±

    He wanted to shove her away. He wanted to shout out, call her all sorts of vile names, and demand that she rescind the order. But his throat tightened and he knew if he tried to speak, she¡¯d hear the cry he was just barely holding back. Breaking down into a crying fit like a baby would only prove her point. Maybe he could excuse himself and intercept Crunch for the second time. Even smuggle him out of the palace to live in the crypts.

    His aunt turned to sit, but paused halfway with narrowed eyes. ¡°I gave you an order, ghoul.¡±

    Terry spun around to see Crunch standing there unmoving. He had joined Bloodstain and Burgundy off to the side and was in the natural resting position the ghouls seemed to prefer¡ªlegs slightly bent, clawed-hands¡ªwell, hand¡ªbehind his back, and single eye forward. He had seen ghouls hold this position for hours without even the slightest twitch.

    But he had never seen one ignore a direct order!

    When he turned back to his aunt, her face was beet red and her nostrils flared. Her severe features that others considered statuesque carried an ugly cast in anger. She stormed up to the ghoul, her back to Terry. With a rough grip on Crunch¡¯s arm, she tried to drag him away. He didn¡¯t resist, but she found herself unable to budge the ghoul.

    With a frustrated noise, she let go of Crunch and ordered once more, ¡°Do as you''re told! Report to recycling!¡± Her voice took on a frantic tone as she added, ¡°You¡¯re scaring my children!¡±

    Terry glanced toward Maxina and Marcus in confusion. Though they had shocked expressions and seemed nervous about the situation, he would imagine it was equal parts Crunch¡¯s appearance and their mother¡¯s outburst that was responsible for their looks.

    Turning to Bloodstain and Burgundy, his aunt shrieked, ¡°Take this ghoul to be recycled. Now!¡±

    A voice spoke from the doorway, and both Terry and his aunt jumped at the ice-cold tone.

    ¡°What is the meaning of this?¡±

    A thin, older man with ghost-white skin stood at the dining room threshold, his wrinkled fingers interlocked in front of his waist. Wisps of gray hair were combed over a mostly-balding scalp. At first sight, it was easy to imagine the old man was weak and impotent. But one glance at the eyes betrayed the hidden power contained within. They swam with a violet light, restrained and languid for the moment.

    Terry hadn¡¯t expected to see one of the Emperor¡¯s revenants left behind as he marched to war, but if any of the undead supers were qualified to hold Wichita together in the Emperor¡¯s absence, it was Mesmer. From HeroWatch, he knew the undead super was a former villain, dabbling in elaborate cons, bank heists, and other acts of villainy. But if the criminal records didn¡¯t exist, he wouldn¡¯t have believed it. The older man was more a grandfather to Terry than the Emperor had ever been and his presence buoyed the boy.

    The former villain swept the room with a piercing intelligence, taking in everything in a single glance; the distant family members studying their plates with sudden and profound interest; the two children staring at their mother with worry; the three ghouls at rigid attention.

    And the Emperor¡¯s niece clutching angrily at Crunch¡¯s arm while Terry stood frozen behind her.

    Aunt Julia was as startled as the rest of them, but recovered the fastest. She released Crunch and turned toward the newcomer.

    ¡°Ah, Mesmer. Just in time. We need the voice of the Emperor.¡± She waved toward Crunch imperiously. ¡°This ghoul¡¯s function has obviously been compromised. He burst into the dining hall, giving everyone a fright. Then he disobeyed a direct¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not true!¡± Terry shouted. His pulse hammered in his temple and it took all of his self control not to physically lash out at his aunt. ¡°He was just doing his job¡ª¡±

    ¡°Quiet, boy!¡± she hissed. ¡°Your elders are speaking¡ª¡±

    She cut off instantly as the revenant raised a hand in the air.

    Without saying another word to Terry or his aunt, the revenant turned to the three ghouls and began conversing in rapid fire ghoulish. The ghouls immediately bowed low, while Crunch addressed the revenant¡¯s question.

    He couldn¡¯t follow the response, but he thought he heard the words, ¡®prince¡¯ and ¡®request.¡¯

    When Crunch was done, the revenant turned back to them.

    ¡°I ordered this ghoul to the Evolution Chamber this morning,¡± the revenant said.

    Terry immediately felt his stomach flip. No, I can¡¯t lose Crunch again. I¡¯ll call dad¡ªvia Wraithglass, if needed.

    He prepared to say as much, but something about Mesmer¡¯s expression stayed the argument he had been brewing.

    ¡°He may remain as your guard, young prince.¡± What? He can stay? Terry wanted to pump his fist, but every eye in the room was on him and the revenant¡¯s next words tempered his rising excitement. ¡°For now, anyway. Once the Emperor returns, the decision will lie with him. Understood?¡±

    Terry looked around for a moment before realizing the question was for him.

    ¡°Oh, um, yes¡­uh, thank you, Mesmer.¡±

    The man nodded before turning toward Aunt Julia. ¡°As for you, young lady.¡± Young lady? Terry thought. ¡°Should you have any further issues with our undead friends, you are to come to me first. Are we clear?¡±

    Terry was slightly behind his aunt, so he couldn¡¯t see her expression. But if the tightness in her voice and the trembling in her legs was any indication, she was raging mad. ¡°Yes, Mesmer.¡±

    ¡°Then you may go. Breakfast is finished.¡±

    The scrape of chairs being pushed back filled the room as the family members who had been frozen at the table finally saw their escape. Aunt Julia whipped around to stare at Terry, her eyes wide with unbridled rage. He had to resist taking a step back under that wild stare and a moment later, she stormed away. Gripping her children by the arms, she nearly dragged them out of the room.

    Terry watched everyone filter out of the dining hall until it was just him, the three ghouls, and the revenant. The old man watched the others leave, then turned to Terry.

    After a moment that stretched forever, the revenant inclined his head and spoke. ¡°Apologies for not finding you sooner, Terry. My duties have taken priority since the attack. But know that you can always come find me if you need an ear to bend.¡± He turned to leave, pausing at the door. His voice was whisper quiet. ¡°Your mother will be missed.¡±

    Then he was gone, leaving Terry in frozen silence.

    His mind churned, not quite believing what had just happened. Though he hadn¡¯t been able to stand up to his aunt, a feeling of triumph blossomed in his chest all the same. Crunch was here to stay!

    At least, until the Emperor returned, that was.

 Chapter 5: Learning Ghoulish

    HeroWatch Entry

    (last updated Year 55:7:3 14:09 local time)

    Solomon Rosenthal (Sol)

    Summary

    Solomon Rosenthal (chosen super moniker: Sol), is an S-ranked Elementalist (confirmed) with an emphasis on electromagnetic radiation. He is a part of the designated (Originals) that first accepted (the Call) in Year 0 (1982 in the pre-super era calendar). He is believed to have been born roughly around Year -30 (1952) though the exact date is unknown (needs citation), making him approximately 88 years of age.

    After returning from his (Capstone Quest) in Year 19, he formed the superhero group, (the Knights of Sol), and is localized around the Free-City of Topeka.

    Powerset

    As an S-ranked Elementalist, Sol exhibits superlative control over his specific element¡ªin this case, electromagnetic radiation, colloquially known as light. In particular, he has been known to condense and absorb light with the capability to express it in both tight beams and powerful explosions.

    It is hypothesized that he transitioned during his (Midmark Quest) from Infuser to Elementalist, which would explain his ability to draw his element into himself before expressing it externally (needs citation).

    + Infuser (F to C)

    (click to expand)

    + Elementalist (C to S)

    (click to expand)

    Affiliation

    Leader of (the Knights of Sol) and only officially recognized S-ranked super of Topeka. Maintains a cordial relationship with (the Council) of Kansas City. Openly hostile with the nearby Free-City of Wichita, ruled by (Terrence Fairway/Emperor Necroton).

    Publicly claims to serve as Topeka¡¯s protector against (the Swarm), rogue supers, and the neighboring Free-City of Wichita. When questioned, he has vehemently opposed the suggestion that he is a dictator using his powers to hold sway over the city of Topeka. However, critics have suggested that a more democratic approach, such as that taken by (the Council) of Kansas City would be a more appropriate system of governance.

    Personal Life

    (click to expand)

    Notable Exploits

    (click to expand)

    <hr>

    Plate piled high with breakfast potatoes, ham, a second form of potato in hash browns, and a generous serving of scrambled egg, Terry made his way back upstairs to his room. The altercation with his aunt thankfully hadn¡¯t done anything to curb his appetite. If anything, he was hungrier than ever.

    ¡°Can I carry that for you, my prince?¡± Bloodstain offered.

    Terry stopped in place, turned to regard the ghoul with raised eyebrows, then shook his head with a chuckle. ¡°I¡¯m perfectly capable of carrying my own breakfast plate.¡± He turned to continue walking, then paused. Looking back over his shoulder, he added with a chagrined look, ¡°Thanks anyway.¡±

    Bloodstain nodded and they continued on.

    When they arrived at his room, he paused in the doorway, a bit shocked by the state of his bedroom.

    Soot stains climbed the mantle leading from the fireplace and the remnant smell of burnt plastic lingered in the air, stinging his nostrils. But that wasn¡¯t what had drawn his attention.

    The walls are so bare¡­

    He couldn¡¯t remember a time when he didn¡¯t have his posters on the walls and his action figures lining the desk and windowsill. Necroton, Sol, Siren¡ªeven his mother¡ªhad lined his walls only last week. He had always been proud of his family, the supers who had carved out their own kingdom. And his mom had been a universally loved superhero and one of his idols. The Siren poster, he had put up for boyish reasons that now felt silly. No, worse than that, it now felt treasonous to the memory of his mother that he had ever had a crush on Siren.

    He sighed at the thought, plopping his plate onto his desk with an indifferent attitude. Though his stomach ached from hunger, it was what he deserved. Why should he get to stuff his belly when his mom was dead? When his dad was at war? If he couldn¡¯t join them in death or battle, then he¡¯d suffer to himself.

    He swiveled his computer chair out and sank into it, staring blankly at the scorch mark above the fireplace.

    Crunch made a noise, sort of like clearing his throat¡ªif his throat had pieces of glass crunching together from the movement.

    ¡°You eat, my prince.¡±

    Terry sank deeper into his chair, his head craning back to rest against the top as he stared at the ceiling.

    ¡°How can I?¡± he asked. ¡°How can I enjoy a meal with my mom dead? With my grandfather and my father on their way to risk their lives? Invading my mom¡¯s childhood home?¡±

    A grating snap of teeth intermingled with guttural sounds sounded in the room. Terry perked up to see Crunch talking to Bloodstain and Burgundy in their native tongue. He strained his ears, his brain slow to translate the bizarre language.

    Stand outside? No, not stand¡­attend, maybe?

    Bloodstain flicked his eyes over to Terry, then replied in the same tongue, his teeth snapping against each other as he spoke. He pitched his voice low so Terry couldn¡¯t decipher his words.

    After a few back and forths, Terry¡¯s self loathing was replaced by annoyance.

    ¡°What are you two talking about?¡± he demanded.

    Bloodstain took a step back and stood at attention while Crunch turned to Terry. He opened his mouth to reply, then growled softly with frustration. To Bloodstain, he said, [Translate please.]

    Crunch¡¯s English had always been a bit lacking.

    Bloodstain stepped forward and bowed before speaking in decent, if accented, English.

    ¡°This one,¡± Bloodstain started with a wave toward Crunch, ¡°suggested prince¡¯s two servants attend outside so can be alone. Your servant informed Emperor¡¯s orders no let out of sight. This one said too¡­¡± He turned to Burgundy, saying a ghoulish term Terry didn¡¯t know.

    ¡°Stiff? No. Rigid?¡± Burgundy added.

    ¡°Literal?¡± Terry supplied.

    ¡°Yes. Literal. Your servant agreed possible. Asked capable to protect prince alone. No arm, see? Prince ask translation.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Terry said with a slight chuckle. ¡°Crunch is perfectly capable of protecting me in the confines of my own room. Please stand guard outside my door.¡± They seemed to hesitate, the tips of their claws extending and retracting. Terry understood it as a nervous tic and not the threat it might appear to be. ¡°If anything happens, I¡¯ll scream for help. You said we were safe inside the palace¡­right?¡±

    They seemed to mull his words over for a moment, then came to some silent agreement. The two ghouls bowed and left the room without so much as a word.

    ¡°Crunch?¡±

    ¡°Yes, my prince?¡±

    ¡°Will you help me with ghoulish? Your people are the backbone of my grandfather¡¯s military. I should at least be able to converse with you in your own language.¡±

    Crunch inclined his head. ¡°The language difficult for [human tongue].¡± He peeled back his lips, revealing rows of jagged teeth. ¡°Not enough.¡±

    Terry¡¯s brow furrowed, then relaxed as a smile formed. ¡°Not enough teeth? My father and Mesmer seem to manage.¡±

    ¡°Tens of years practice.¡±

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    ¡°You mean decades. Decades of practice.¡± He snapped, then held up a finger. ¡°I have an idea. I¡¯ll help you with English and you help me with ghoulish. How¡¯s that sound?¡±

    The ghoul¡¯s teeth ground together. Terry knew it was a sign of thoughtfulness, rather than annoyance.

    ¡°Suggestion.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyebrows rose. ¡°I¡¯m all ears.¡±

    ¡°Yes, teach Eng-Engli-[human] language. Crunch teach aura first. Ghoulish [advanced].¡±

    ¡°Aura? Why?¡± Of course, Terry had some basic understanding of auras. But it wasn¡¯t something typically taught until after an Awakening. Most couldn¡¯t even feel auras except as vague sensations nearly indistinguishable from gut feelings.

    Crunch¡¯s lips peeled back in a ghoulish smile. ¡°Auras everything. Speak with auras.¡±

    He perked up in his chair.  Like a secret language?  He found his curiosity sparked, an excitement filling his body that he hadn¡¯t felt in what seemed like years.

    ¡°Does the Emperor know how to?¡± he asked. ¡°Speak with auras, I mean.¡±

    ¡°Obvious.¡±

    He raised his eyebrows at Crunch¡¯s sarcastic tone. ¡°You mean, ¡®obviously.¡¯¡±

    Crunch inclined his head. ¡°Emperor know¡­obviously.¡±

    Terry chuckled, then leaned forward, his body vibrating with excitement.

    ¡°Teach me everything.¡±

    <hr>

    Turned out that sensing auras for a normie was incredibly difficult. Terry hadn¡¯t even been able to sense Crunch¡¯s aura, let alone read the subtle shifts that were meant to be interpreted. He had asked to jump straight to ghoulish, since  that  he had already made some headway learning. But according to Crunch, the spoken component was only a piece; mastery of the undead languages originated from aura manipulation.

    In Crunch¡¯s words: ¡°Ghoulish before aura, like write before speak.¡±

    Apparently, all the nuance of emotion and meaning was layered through an undead¡¯s aura.

    After an hour of instruction, his brain felt muddled and he couldn¡¯t confidently say he had taken even a single step forward. But he wasn¡¯t discouraged. Aura control was inherently an undead and super phenomenon; there would be plenty of hurdles for a normie like him. But to be able to communicate natively with the creatures responsible for his safety, and the safety of the royal family¡ªthe entire city, really¡ªwas worth it.

    If only it wasn¡¯t so dang hard!

    When Crunch suggested they take a break for the day, Terry was relieved. There had been something in the back of his mind distracting him, and the ghoul had picked up on it.

    ¡°Your thoughts heavy,¡± Crunch said. ¡°Talk to servant?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Terry replied with a smile. Crunch nodded, turning to retreat to the door, when Terry quickly added, ¡°But I wouldn¡¯t mind complaining to a friend.¡±

    The ghoul paused mid-step, his expression inscrutable. From his hesitation, Terry felt that Crunch needed him to be less subtle.

    ¡°I mean you, Crunch. You¡¯re my friend, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    The ghoul turned back and bowed deeply. ¡°I am what prince needs.¡±

    Terry snorted and shook his head. ¡°Fine, Crunch. I need a friend¡­¡± It felt pathetic leaving his mouth, but it was true. With his mother dead, his father gone, and no kids his age in the palace, he felt stranded on his island surrounded in a sea of grief.

    ¡°I serve. Your friend listens.¡± Crunch stood at attention, his eyes boring into Terry with an uncanny stillness.

    He mulled over his next words. Declaring his friendship was one thing, but Terry was no fool. Crunch¡¯s loyalty was to his grandfather first and foremost. Still, he had to get this off his chest.

    ¡°Why did my grandfather go? Why did my father¡­¡± He trailed off, his chest tightening. He had been about to say:  why did my father leave me?  like he was some child¡ªwhich he was, but that didn¡¯t make the words feel any less pathetic. ¡°Why did my father go?¡±

    Crunch¡¯s single eye blinked slowly and he didn¡¯t reply for a moment. Then, ¡°You think best to stay? Sol dead. Topeka weak.¡±

    Terry was taken aback by the ghoul¡¯s frank tone. ¡°I-well¡­I guess not¡­¡±

    ¡°Then father stay? When Emperor go war?¡±

    Terry turned away, the heat rushing to his face. ¡°Well, no. But he could have at least said goodbye.¡± He hated the whine in his voice.

    ¡°Maybe hard?¡± Crunch suggested, his gravelly voice contrasting with the gentleness of his tone. ¡°Maybe grieve mother by fight?¡±

    Terry whirled back to face the ghoul. ¡°And what about me? I¡¯m grieving, too! And my only company isn¡¯t even human!¡± He cringed as the words left his mouth and he spoke quickly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Crunch. I didn¡¯t mean that.¡±

    Crunch waved his only hand toward the bed across from Terry. ¡°Sit?¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide. He¡¯d never seen one of the undead guards sitting¡ªdidn¡¯t think they enjoyed the activity, to be honest. But it felt like an olive branch, a breaking down of a wall between the two of them.

    ¡°Please!¡± he said, a touch too eagerly.

    Crunch sat on the corner, his posture upright, even tense, to Terry¡¯s eyes. Though, he had also never seen a ghoul relax, now that he thought about it.

    ¡°Friend, right?¡± Crunch asked.

    Terry smiled. ¡°Obvious.¡±

    ¡°Friend tell story. Yes?¡±

    Terry¡¯s mouth gaped open for a split second, before he realized how ridiculous he must have looked and he quickly shut it. He nodded, leaning in to better understand the ghoul¡¯s grating voice.

    ¡°When young, fresh from pits, Bonesplinter clan almost gone. But me no thoughts. Only hunger.¡±

    Terry chewed his lip, running the words through his mind. ¡°When you were born, your clan was almost extinct? But you didn¡¯t care? You were just hungry?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± He glanced out the window, a distant look in his lone eye. ¡°Grandfather come. Promise free. Promise food. Save Bonesplinter. Protect Bonesplinter. Bonesplinter never forget.¡±

    Terry leaned back. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s why you call him the Protector. Because he saved your clan and brought you to Earth?¡±

    ¡°Never forget,¡± Crunch repeated. ¡°Even when all become ash.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind churned those words over, like a plow cutting through soil.  Ash?  What did he mean by that?

    ¡°I¡¯m not following,¡± he replied after a moment.

    Crunch¡¯s teeth gnashed together as he considered his words.

    ¡°New spawn not like Crunch. No hunger. No loss. No flee home. No understand.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Crunch. I don¡¯t mean to be rude, but¡­what does this have to do with my grandfather invading Topeka?¡±

    The ghoul nodded as if it was expected for Terry to be confused.

    ¡°Emperor understand thing all leader know.¡±

    ¡°Which is?¡±

    ¡°Hunger bigger than loyalty. Food everything¡ªundead or no.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± Terry was wondering if he was an idiot, or if Crunch was being deliberately vague. ¡°I¡¯m still not seeing the connection.¡±

    ¡°You see farm? Soil dead from Sol.¡± Terry¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°No life for tens¡ªfor decades. Even yes, no sun. No sun, no food.¡±

    ¡°But he¡¯ll dispel the darkness¡­right? I mean, he summoned it, so he can remove it.¡±

    Crunch shook his head. ¡°Think¡­no. Smell of Underworld. Smell of home.¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t imagine living in night¡­forever. No sun. No day-night cycle. He¡¯d go insane! But that wasn¡¯t the point Crunch had been angling toward, he knew.

    ¡°Our fields are scorched and our land has no sun¡­but Topeka has fields and they have sun.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s why my father and the Emperor are rushing to take over Sol¡¯s land. Without it, the living and unliving will go hungry. And you think they¡¯ll rebel against the Emperor¡¯s rule?¡±

    Crunch tilted his head, his single eye regarding Terry calmly.

    ¡°Obvious.¡±

 Chapter 6: Necrotalk Forums

    Despite Crunch¡¯s near-constant presence, loneliness still managed to creep its way in. He and his father had left things¡­well, not great before he¡¯d gone off to invade Topeka. And even if Terry was still miffed the man had left without a word, he couldn¡¯t deny it, he missed him.

    He woke up with a bug in his brain, a buzzing need to see his father¡ªeven just digitally. He knew it wouldn¡¯t hurt as bad as seeing his mother and maybe it would scratch the itch of loneliness infecting his thoughts. Throwing his covers off, he glanced over to see Burgundy standing just inside his door, the ghoul¡¯s attention pointedly fixated on the wall.

    ¡°Morning, Burg,¡± Terry called over as he went to his computer. He had started openly referring to his regular ghoul bodyguards by the nicknames he had picked out. He had given learning their native names a fair effort, but had only managed to butcher them entirely. Crunch had let him know that they didn¡¯t mind the nicknames, anyway.

    ¡°Good morning, my prince.¡±

    ¡°Did I do anything interesting while I slept?¡± he asked casually as his computer booted up.

    ¡°You have nightmares,¡± Burgundy replied, his eyes still glued to the far wall.

    Nightmares? He didn¡¯t recall having any nightmares. Granted, he didn¡¯t exactly feel well rested, but he assumed that was just natural tiredness.

    ¡°Huh, weird,¡± he said. Turning his attention to his computer, he opened a search page and typed in his father¡¯s name. The search results populated with a series of news articles about the Free-City of Wichita¡¯s counter-invasion of Sol¡¯s Topeka. The first article showed a picture of the Emperor, with Terry¡¯s father at his side.

    Unfortunately, his father was in full super armor¡ªa set of personally crafted bone armor similar to the Emperor¡¯s. Even his face was covered with a bone mask that blocked everything except his eyes. Unlike the Emperor, his father¡¯s eyes were not two glowing red embers, but simply his father¡¯s eyes. Still, it didn¡¯t exactly fill the hole in his chest, so he continued searching.

    It turned out that his father had almost no images on the web. Unlike his mom, who had had an entire superhero career before marrying his father, the Commander of the Unliving Legions had always been the Emperor¡¯s subordinate and was mostly pictured in full regalia¡ªmask and all.

    But he did find one picture of his father unmasked. It was an engagement announcement between the prince of Wichita and the superhero icon, the White Rose herself. His father¡ªmuch younger¡ªwas standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his mom in her superhero costume. In the picture, he was staring at Terry¡¯s mom, a clear longing in his eyes. His mom, in contrast, looked unhappy to be there.

    He studied the picture for minutes, trying to read between the lines of her guarded expression. For as long as he could remember, his parents had been madly in love. Sickeningly so, in fact. To see her distant expression at their engagement announcement made him wonder if what he knew of his parents was simply what they had allowed him to see. Had there been fissures in their relationship that they kept from him?

    But a memory flashed in his mind. A memory of his father a few days ago, leaning heavily against Terry¡¯s desk, sobs wracking his body. There was no mistaking his father¡¯s love for his mom. He scolded himself for the thought.

    Returning to the search bar, he typed in ¡®White Rose.¡¯ More articles populated, along with a dozen images of his mom¡ªboth in costume and in regular clothes. Her smiling face seemed to be looking right at him and he felt his throat tighten.

    One of the top results was an article about Sol¡¯s attack, Emperor Necroton¡¯s response, and the death of the White Rose. Though his heart physically hurt, he clicked on the link.

    The article was basic, running through the sequence of events, but glossing over the death of his mom. All it said was that Siren and the White Rose had killed each other.

    What interested Terry were the comments at the bottom of the article.

    <blockquote>

    [NecroKid27]: long live the white rose!

    [DillonK]: the princess was a saint

    [anon12345]: She never belonged here. Bet she was a mole sent by Sol.

    [DillonK]: then whys she dead, dummy

    [anon12345]: the emperor found out, duh! Tied off a loose end.

    [alfie_rose]: theres zero chance siren took out the white rose. She was a middling B-grade. The rose was a powerhouse A-grade.

    [necroton-fan-69]: exactly! Everyone knows siren was only a knight because she was sol¡¯s side piece

    [throwaway9032]: then who killed the rose?

    </blockquote>

    Terry read that question over and over again.

    <blockquote>

    Then who killed the rose?

    </blockquote>

    He found himself wondering the exact same thing.

    Clicking on the add comment button, he was redirected to create an account for the news site. He filled in fake information with a temporary email he made in a few minutes. For his username, he used RoseBud. Though he realized it was stupid to use any identifying names or pieces of information, he thought the name was ubiquitous enough and wouldn¡¯t tie back to him in any way.

    Replying to the commenter who had asked the question, he typed in:

    <blockquote>

    Any theories?

    </blockquote>

    And pressed enter. He switched tabs and began searching for any info on the invasion¡¯s progress when his speakers dinged. At first, he couldn¡¯t figure out what had prompted the notification sound. He didn¡¯t have any messengers open or any alarms set. But then he noticed the bouncing tab he had just left. He flipped back over and saw that the commenter had already replied to his question.

    ¡°That was fast,¡± he muttered to himself.

    But as he read the response, his eyes narrowed. Instead of a normal reply, there was a hyperlink over the words: try here. Nothing else.

    He hovered over the link, examining the preview URL to make sure it didn¡¯t open some virus or lead to something dirty. But his confusion only increased as he examined the URL.

    ¡°Necrotalk forums?¡±

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    He hadn¡¯t heard of the site, but it seemed harmless enough. Opening the link, he saw that it led to an online forum discussing all sorts of things happening within the Free-City of Wichita. But, at least recently, all the threads were understandably related to Sol¡¯s attack, his mom¡¯s death, or the invasion of Topeka.

    As he combed through the dozens of active threads, it became apparent that this forum was a hotbed of conspiracy theories and half-brained conjectures. He even passed over a thread authored by an anonymous poster suggesting that the White Rose had had an affair with Savage, with Terry as the result. That was why the Emperor had personally reaped the super and added him to his revenants.

    Despite the ridiculous nature of the theories and discussions in most of the threads, he couldn¡¯t pull himself away. He had too many questions and these threads¡ªthough ridiculous¡ªserved as a sort of lifeline to his burning curiosity.

    And they weren¡¯t all inane ramblings. There was one user named IBelieve that he saw commenting across multiple threads that Terry found had some intriguing questions. Questions Terry wondered as well.

    Creating an account for Necrotalk, he used the RoseBud alias once more. As soon as he received the confirmation, he sent a private message to IBelieve.

    <blockquote>

    Hey, saw some of your comments. I feel like you¡¯ve got some really interesting ideas. Up to chat?

    </blockquote>

    He waited a few seconds, half expecting IBelieve to respond instantly like the user on the news article had. But after a few moments, he shook his head with a wry smile.

    ¡°Not everyone is a thirteen-year-old boy with all day to troll forums,¡± he muttered to himself.

    He idly combed the Necrotalk forums for anything else interesting and found a thread discussing the fallout from Sol¡¯s attack. The thread starter claimed that the blast radius had been much larger than reported and that the farmlands had been completely scorched.

    Others responded asking for proof or simply calling the poster out for lying. One person had typed:

    <blockquote>

    Don¡¯t you think it would be tough to hide the fact that all our food was poisoned?

    </blockquote>

    The area surrounding the Knights of Sol¡¯s attack had been cordoned off, the poster claimed, so they couldn¡¯t get photos or video. In fact, the entirety of Wichita¡¯s farms had been restricted to essential personnel only.

    Good thing Terry was a prince.

    It was time for Terry to get out of the palace and do something other than mope about or troll the web. It was time for him to visit the place his mother had been killed. It was time to visit the farms.

    <hr>

    Turned out, it was one thing being the prince, and entirely another getting your well-meaning bodyguards to take you into known danger.

    Crunch, Bloodstain, and Burgundy had¡ªvery politely¡ªargued with him for twenty minutes. And they had made great points. The fallout from Sol¡¯s attack still lingered, the air might be toxic, the bulk of the army was occupied over a hundred miles away, and so on.

    But what had finally settled the debate was a single question from Terry.

    ¡°Did the Emperor expressly forbid me from going there?¡±

    That had given them pause and the three ghouls had a quick¡ªbut lively¡ªprivate discussion in ghoulish. Though Terry¡¯s lessons were going well, they spoke so fluently and didn¡¯t slow the tempo like they usually did for his human ears. And of course, their auras were inscrutable.

    After a few moments, Crunch turned to him and though half his face was melted from Sol¡¯s attack, his pained expression was unmistakable.

    ¡°We take prince to survey fields,¡± Crunch said wearily. Terry¡¯s face lit up, but the ghoul held out his hand in a very paternal gesture that indicated he wasn¡¯t done yet. ¡°On few conditions.¡±

    Terry was too excited to consider what that could possibly mean. ¡°Fine, fine,¡± he replied hurriedly. ¡°Whatever you say.¡±

    Two hours of preparation later, Terry was hot, sweaty, and extremely annoyed.

    He and Crunch were bouncing around the cabin of an armored attack vehicle. Outside, Blood and Burg¡ªalong with a dozen other ghouls Terry had seen around but hadn¡¯t named¡ªwere following on foot with loping strides. Inside the vehicle, Terry was wrapped head-to-toe in a hazmat suit, his air supplied by a tank clipped to his back. Underneath the suit, he had on a bulletproof vest. The combination of the two, plus the heavy tank on his back, made it impossible to get anywhere close to comfortable. The sweat was dripping into his eyes now, and it took all his self-control not to rip off the helmet.

    In front and behind of the vehicle were two pickup trucks. The beds of each had .50 caliber machine guns with human guards manning the weapons. Strong enough to penetrate the skin of any super below A-grade that didn¡¯t have a power specifically centered around toughness.

    Terry thought it was overkill. The Knights of Sol had been routed. Savage and Siren were dead and no one had seen or heard from Scourge or the Shadow. As far as other supers were concerned, Sol had initiated the attack and though most considered Necroton a villain and a dictator, Sol¡¯s optics weren¡¯t much better. None in the supers community seemed inclined to do anything about it.

    And the idea that normies could assault his team of ghouls was laughable. Even an average ghoul could tank low caliber gunfire and move faster than the fastest human. The only real threat to Terry were lurking supers¡ªand the claustrophobic layers of the hazmat suit and bulletproof vest threatening to drown him in sweat!

    To distract himself from the annoyance, he glanced out of the narrow window to examine the city. Other than his mother¡¯s funeral parade, he hadn¡¯t been out of the palace since the attack. Not that the promenade really counted as out of the palace, but it sort of counted in that it led out into open air.

    But actually being out in the city proper was a completely different experience. Though it was midday by the clock, the sun had yet to return since the Emperor¡¯s working. A heavy darkness reminiscent of the after-midnight hours oppressed the city. And even if the sun hadn¡¯t been obscured, the fog bank seemed to cloy eerily to the ground, creating a head-height wall that was impenetrable to the human eye. The streetlamps were tiny pinpricks of light against the sea of fog and the headlights of the caravan didn¡¯t fare much better.

    During a time when there should have been hundreds of people on this very street going about their business, Terry hadn¡¯t seen a single one. And he didn¡¯t blame them. The midday darkness and the unnatural fog created an environment that was not welcoming to the living; Wichita was finally a place where only the undead could thrive. It made Terry wonder about the future of the city and brought to mind Crunch¡¯s words from the day before.

    Hunger bigger than loyalty.

    And what about safety? Sunlight? A freedom from fog that smelled of death? He was surprised a mass exodus hadn¡¯t occurred already.

    He pushed those thoughts away rather than face the reality of what the future held for Wichita. He knew that one day he¡¯d be strong enough to make a difference for his people, but that day wasn¡¯t this day.

    The vehicle jerked suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts. The ride had been bumpy, to say the least, and he felt like the driver kept tapping his brakes. And when Terry peered through the front windshield, he noticed the brake lights of the pickup truck ahead flashing erratically as well.

    ¡°Is everything alright?¡± He had to yell to be heard through the suit.

    His human driver glanced back, then cursed as he was forced to slam on the brakes again to avoid rear ending the lead truck.

    ¡°My apologies, my prince!¡± the driver called back. ¡°The fog makes it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead.¡± Then, under his breath, he added, ¡°I think this damn fool is lost¡­¡±

    ¡°Lost?¡± Terry asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t it nearly a straight shot?¡±

    He couldn¡¯t remember the exact route he¡¯d taken the dozen or so times he¡¯d left the city, but he hadn¡¯t remembered this many turns.

    ¡°Pardon, my prince. There was an accident at one of the junctions and we had to divert.¡±

    ¡°An accident? Was anyone hurt?¡±

    The driver hesitated, glancing back at Terry before remembering to keep his eyes on the road. ¡°I¡­I¡¯m not sure, my prince.¡±

    ¡°I check when return, my prince,¡± Crunch added from beside him on the hard bench.

    The boy nodded. ¡°Please, Crunch.¡± To the driver, he added, ¡°If you see another accident, pull over, will you? We have a first aid kit here and I¡¯m sure the emergency services have their hands full with the darkness and the fog.¡±

    He noticed the driver¡¯s eyes flick up to meet his in the rear-view mirror, then flit away just as fast.

    Did I say something wrong? he wondered.

    ¡°My prince,¡± Crunch said. ¡°I request not stop. Dangerous already.¡±

    Terry turned to face the ghoul, his brow knitted in confusion. ¡°You want to drive by people that could need our help?¡±

    ¡°Honorable, my prince. But no visible. Easy be hit when out of car.¡±

    Terry understood his point. The fog lay so heavy that the only safe place was inside a vehicle¡ªespecially one as heavy and armored as this one. But how could he sleep at night if he passed by an injured person when he could have helped?

    ¡°These are my people, Crunch. What kind of leader would I be if I left them to suffer in the dark, wondering if help was coming? That¡¯s not what a superhero would do and it¡¯s not what an Emperor would do.¡±

    ¡°What are your orders, my prince?¡± the driver called back.

    Terry glanced toward Crunch and the ghoul nodded once. Though Terry was in charge, it still filled him with pride that the ghoul had come on board.

    ¡°Radio the lead truck. If they spot another accident, cordon off the area with the flares in the back. Position the trucks on either side so if another driver does come in too fast, they hit vehicles and not people.¡±

    The driver¡¯s eyes met his once more in the rear-view mirror, and though Terry couldn¡¯t be certain, he felt the expression on the man¡¯s face was one of approval. He tried not to let that balloon up his head too much, but he couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of pride deep inside his chest.

    With renewed focus, he scanned the passing streets, his eyes peeled for any people in need.

 End of Book 1 Status Sheet(s) - Not a Chapter

    First Status Sheet is the diff between Part Two and Part Three (Time skip of 8 months). Not relevant unless you want to see the progress over that time skip and compare to the end of Book One.

    Status Sheet

    Class

    Alterant (E)

    Class Skills

    Metaphysical Analysis (E)

    Genetic Analysis (E)

    Genetic-Metaphysical Affixation (E)

    Affixation Slots

    F-Slots (2)

    Slot 1: High-Efficiency Matter Transportation

    Slot 2: Liquefy Metal

    E-Slot (1)

    Slot 1: Metal Telekinesis

    Unaffixed Skills

    Full-Body Tempering (F)

    Full-Body Tempering (E)

    Attribute Ranks

    Physical Average: F5 ¡ú E5

    Strength: F5 ¡ú E4

    Speed: F5 ¡ú E5

    Toughness: F6 ¡ú E6

    Perception: F5 ¡ú E5

    Presence Average: E8 ¡ú D5

    Aura Projection: E8 ¡ú D4

    Aura Control: E8 ¡ú D5

    Aura Perception: E8 ¡ú D6

    Mental Average: F2 ¡ú F7

    Chronoception: F2 ¡ú F7

    Visual Processing: F3 ¡ú F9

    Auditory Processing: F2 ¡ú F6

    Public Information

    Name: Terry

    Class: Alterant (Hidden)

    Overall Rank: E (Hidden)

    Attribute Ranks: (Hidden)

    Progression from beginning of Part Three to end of Book One is as follows:

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    1. Chapter 50: Learns Light Shift (D) from Sol.

    2. Chapter 52: Adds light transportation to his portal skill by studying with Marlon. Upgrades it from F to E. New E-Slot awarded.

    2. Chapter 55: Upgrades High-Efficiency Light and Matter Transportation (E) ¡ú (D) but no appropriate slots so it is capped at E.

    3. Chapter 59: D-rank achieved. Learns Master of Light (D). 2 D-slots awarded. Aura Attributes increase naturally from the rank up.

    This is the Status Sheet I would include in Chapter 59 in the final version of the book.

    <u>Status Sheet</u>

    <u>Class</u>

    Alterant (D)

    <u>Class Skills</u>

    Metaphysical Analysis (D)

    Genetic Analysis (D)

    Genetic-Metaphysical Affixation (D)

    <u>Affixation Slots</u>

    F-Slots (2)

    Slot 1: Liquefy Metal

    Slot 2: Full-Body Tempering (F)

    E-Slots (2)

    Slot 1: Metal Telekinesis

    Slot 2: Full-Body Tempering (E)

    D-Slots (2)

    Slot 1: High-Efficiency Light and Matter Transportation

    Slot 2: Master of Light

    Unaffixed Skills

    Light Shift (D)

    <u>Attribute Ranks</u>

    Physical Average: E5

    Strength: E4

    Speed: E5

    Toughness: E6

    Perception: E5

    Presence Average: D8

    Aura Projection: D4 ¡ú D7

    Aura Control: D5 ¡ú D8

    Aura Perception: D6 ¡ú D9

    Mental Average: F7

    Chronoception: F7

    Visual Processing: F9

    Auditory Processing: F6

    <u>Public Information</u>

    Name: Terrence Fairway II

    Class: Alterant (Hidden)

    Overall Rank: D (Hidden)

    Attribute Ranks: (Hidden)

    And finally, the changes from Chapter 59 to end of Book One are as follows:

    1. Given a third D-slot for completing the Feed Wichita Quest in Chapter 61. Assigned Free Topeka Quest.

    2. Given the Aura Snapshot (D) Skill for decoding all the White Roses in Chapter 64. Given the Anchor a Skill Quest to unlock his Midmark Quest.

    I''ll abstain from posting a third Status Sheet, there aren''t enough changes to justify it.

    I''m not a huge stat junky, so if anything looks weird, let me know.

 B2 - Chapter 1: The Chameleon

    HeroWatch Entry

    (last updated Year 57:12:03 08:01 local time)

    Tinker (Damien Alcantar)

    Summary

    Damien Alcantar (chosen super moniker: Tinker), is an S-ranked Artificer best known for his S-grade Artifact armor (see (Power Armor), (Artifacts)). He is one of the first Awakened designated (the Second Wave), as he missed (the Call) by three years. In Year 3, he Awakened as an Artificer. In Year 5, he attended M.I.T. (see (Pre-Splintering Universities)) where he graduated with a simultaneous bachelor¡¯s degree in electrical engineering and a Ph.D. in biomechanical engineering with an emphasis on human-machine integration.

    After completing his (Midmark Quest), he was formally invited to join the (Supers for Peaceful Cohesion), where he contributed significantly in the war against (Tempest).

    He completed his (Capstone Quest) in Year 23, becoming the second recorded S-ranked Artificer. In Year 28, he officially joined (the Council) as one of its leading S-ranked members.

    In Year 57, he has most recently served as the ranking representative of (the Council) in their ongoing dispute over Topeka (see (The Topekan Crisis)).

    He is credited with 473 patents (see citation).

    Powerset

    Best known for his iconic power armor, Tinker has demonstrated speed and strength approaching that of an S-ranked Duelist while inside his armor. But outside of physical confrontations, Tinker has developed a reputation for pioneering numerous branches of Artifact science, anti-Swarm devices, medical breakthroughs, flying vehicles, and spatial-locking science.

    + Artificer (F to C)

    (click to expand)

    + Artificer (C to S)

    (click to expand)

    Affiliation

    Tinker has been an SPC-registered member for decades. He is also a ranking-member of (The Council), which rules over Kansas City and is currently embroiled in a border dispute over Topeka.

    Personal Life

    (click to expand)

    Notable Exploits

    (click to expand)

    <hr>

    Part One: War of the Elements

    Three months later...

    The Black Wall was visible from every point within Topeka. It stood like an infected sore, blighting the land, reminding her citizens that their home was no longer just their home, but also, a warzone.

    To the five supers sprinting down the alleyway, though, it signaled salvation. Freedom from their pursuers, safety from surefire imprisonment¡ªor possibly death.

    Terry led them at a sprint, his shoes slapping against puddles of foul-smelling water. Refuse lined the alleyway and the smell would have been overpowering if their lives weren¡¯t at risk.

    Behind him, long-legged Peter was second fastest. Though he specialized in earth magic, the cement lent him no aid¡ªhis focus was in plants. And though they were excellent for scouting, they did nothing to speed him along.

    He was simply fast.

    Next came Tania. Her legs were the shortest, but she had years of rigorous training under Whipvine that had lent her the endurance of a marathon runner.

    Alan was on her shoulder and his magic did aid him in their flight¡ªoccasionally. As he raced down the alley, he went out of his way to place his feet on the dirty puddles, where his sneakers sunk in like stepping in Jello, then were rebounded out, giving him an eerie-looking sort of bounce to his step. All the same, his natural athleticism was the lowest of the group.

    That is to say, the lowest of Terry¡¯s group.

    The final member of this fleeing coterie was the man they had sneaked into East Topeka to fetch. An agent of Terraform and the man that would be their ticket back to the Market where Terry had unfinished business.

    For three months, he¡¯d been trying to procure a ride back to the Market. His Quest to learn anchoring magic had stymied him every step of the way and he desperately needed a session with Marlon to unlock the secrets to the man¡¯s abilities.

    Unfortunately for Terry, Marlon refused to engage in System chat. He hadn¡¯t even accepted the request. When he¡¯d asked Terraform to go talk some sense into the Traveler, the Market¡¯s purveyor had reported back some gut-wrenching news.

    <blockquote>

    [Terraform]: That¡¯s a no-go, Terry. Marlon said¡ªand I quote: ¡°Tell Tammy to make the trek down here if it¡¯s so important.¡± No amount of explaining would make him budge and he eventually threatened to portal me into the Pit. I told him that was impossible, but he stopped responding to me at that point.

    </blockquote>

    Terry had been too incredulous to be mad. He eventually came to the conclusion that Marlon¡¯s secrets were Marlon¡¯s secrets, and if he wanted to pry into them, it would have to be on the man¡¯s terms.

    His¡­understanding had slowly eroded as it became increasingly clear how difficult it was to get to Terraform¡¯s Market with the Traveler tokens locked down; the ramifications of Skipper¡¯s betrayal continued to shake up the smooth operations of the Market. Instead, one had to be ferried there by a high-level Elementalist with a stone specialty. And not just any Stone Elementalist would do, since the location of the Market was also a closely-guarded secret.

    Terraform can just send me an Elementalist¡­right?

    Turned out, sending anything into an active warzone was a tall ask. Especially a warzone locked down by Artifacts, high-ranking Travelers, and three powerful factions.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    Wichita¡ªled by his father¡ªcontrolled West Topeka. He was supported by Savage and the Iron Maiden¡ªwho had recently joined the front as things intensified. In addition, the Emperor was footing the bill to bring on supplementary supers to shore up the large gaps left by James, Savage, and the Iron Maiden. Supplementary forces meaning supes-for-hire¡ªmostly mercenaries and unaffiliated Awakened.

    Not exactly the most reliable of forces, but enough to partially counter the Council¡¯s superior resources.

    The Council¡¯s forces controlled East Topeka with an iron fist, using Tinker¡¯s Artifacts to lock down Traveling and detect seismic disturbances. And though none of the S-rankers were meant to take the field¡ªall agreed that led to escalation and eventually, total war¡ªthe Council still possessed a stable of supers that surpassed Wichita. It wasn¡¯t just that they had more A-rankers¡ªthough they did¡ªbut rather, the gamut of B-rankers, C-rankers, and even D-rankers, far outstripped what Wichita could bring to bear.

    Despite the numbers advantage, a conflict between supers ultimately came down to those at the tip of the pyramid, the A-rankers that took to the field, and the powersets they possessed.

    And the third faction, stepping in to¡­moderate, was the SPC¡ªthe Supers for Peaceful Cohesion.

    Otherwise known as the conglomerate founded by Dancer, who had a very particular bone to pick with Wichita and its Emperor.

    While there hadn¡¯t been any overt finger pressing on the scale between Wichita and Kansas City, the implication was enough to spread tension across both sides of the city.

    Everyone had heard about the Emperor¡¯s showdown with Dancer and those inclined to pick sides were also those inclined to pick the winning side.

    It was this third faction that had implemented the Black Wall. A miles-long stretch of Artificer and Elementalist design, created to form a zone dedicated to the war. Hollowed out, filled with artificial control points, shifting walls, and crafted to be labyrinthine, the intention had been to contain the war within the interior of the wall, away from civilians.

    The SPC had gamified the conflict between the Emperor and the Council, funneling the fight into the contained space.

    Of course, some fights always managed to spill out from the wall and while both sides had agreed to keep the war away from the city itself, the unspoken understanding was that strategic locations within Topeka were fair game.

    So long as the SPC couldn¡¯t pin any sabotage or outright attacks back on either party.

    Which meant that¡ªwhile the city proper avoided most of the fallout that generally accompanied super-enhanced war¡ªthe occasional sally from the Black Wall or circumspect sabotage was not just a fact of life¡­it was expected.

    Meaning East Topeka was always on high alert for Wichitan forces, infiltration, or raids from the wall.

    Meaning security was nearly as tight away from the wall as it was at the base.

    Meaning their rendezvous with Terraform¡¯s agent needed to happen on neutral ground, away from either side¡¯s forces.

    Meaning¡­the damn fool shouldn¡¯t have burrowed from the earth anywhere near East Topeka.

    And yet, Terry and his team now found themselves running for their lives a quarter mile from the wall in East Topeka. At least Terry knew the Wichitan forces wouldn¡¯t execute them if they were ultimately captured; he¡¯d just reveal his identity and chalk it up to an embarrassing and brief rebellion. The Council on the other hand¡­

    The coordinates had been so clear. Under the Black Wall. Under.

    But Terraform¡¯s agent hadn¡¯t ended up under the wall. No, he¡¯d inadvertently found himself pinged by Tinker¡¯s devices, three miles off course, and practically shitting himself.

    Leading to the hastiest and worst-planned rescue mission of all time. And now, they were on the run from what seemed like the entirety of the Council¡¯s forces.

    There was no need for a map¡ªthe wall served as their beacon, their obsidian salvation looming ever present in the distance. The route they took toward that salvation was winding as they kept to the back alleys and the tight press of building walls; more than one Council super roamed the sky above, scanning for them.

    They stopped at the mouth of an alley, Terry holding out his hand as he glanced left, right, and up. It was the up he was more concerned about.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost there.¡± He kept his voice even, breathing steady, focusing his mind. ¡°Once we clear the buildings, it¡¯s a hundred yards of nothing but mud and open space. With the fliers up above, we¡¯ll never make it in an all out sprint.¡±

    Their Market agent¡ªKlein¡ªsucked in a gasping breath, his eyes going wide.

    ¡°I-I can¡¯t,¡± he said in a rush. ¡°It was a-a good try, but I-I can¡¯t.¡± His aura shifted to Terry¡¯s senses, diving into the earth. ¡°I¡¯m going back to the Mark¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Terry gripped the man¡¯s arm, using his aura to batter the magic aside. Klein might have been strong enough to resist Terry in normal circumstances. But with his aura frazzled and his mind clouded with terror, his hold was stripped away easily. ¡°They¡¯ll expect you to make a break for it that way. You won¡¯t make it past their net.¡± He studied the man a moment longer to make sure he wouldn¡¯t do anything foolish, then nodded toward the wall. ¡°That¡¯s our only way out of the noose. Do you understand? We have to try.¡±

    ¡°You have a plan, Ter?¡± Tania asked quietly.

    His eyes flashed golden, his lips set tight as he nodded.

    ¡°I do. Misdirection is the key. Listen carefully¡­¡±

    <hr>

    Damien Alcantar, also known as Tinker, flew a thousand feet above East Topeka. Data flashed across his HUD, lightning fast, more flicks of light than actual text. Biosensors on the exterior of his power armor filtered through the neural-network trained against his target¡¯s specific markers, then fed back into his mundane senses.

    In close ranges, his target¡¯s smell would fill his nose like the smoke from a bonfire; to his eyes, the target¡¯s silhouette, unique gait, and a million other biological factors would be as stark as a sign reading: I¡¯m here. The target¡¯s voice¡ªeven artificially modulated by an advanced super-designed mask¡ªwould ring in his ears like a clarion call.

    The only aspect of his target that had challenged his S-ranked capabilities was his aura signature. At first, Tinker had been annoyed¡ªlike a fly buzzing around his head, dodging his swats with an uncanny alacrity. But as he was forced to turn his full attention to the problem, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a spark inside his chest that had eluded him for decades.

    The spark of an academic challenge!

    All projects fell to the wayside. All efforts to study the Black Wall¡¯s architecture¡ªa feat of superhuman and engineering genius, even he had to admit. All attention devoted to identifying the idiosyncrasies of this Chameleon¡¯s aura.

    The name was apropos, considering his peculiar powerset. The first time Chameleon had shown up on their radar, he had demonstrated Traveler-based powers, portaling into a spatially-locked warehouse to pilfer food stores.

    It hadn¡¯t been one of his own Artifacts, so his academic interest hadn¡¯t been piqued. Bypassing a C-rankers spatial-locking Artifact was nothing to write home about for most high-ranking Travelers.

    Only after his neural assistant had flagged the footage, had Tinker became aware of Chameleon.

    The portal was uninteresting¡ªrote usage of not quite common magic. Even the metal telekinesis was relatively basic¡ªthough, in conjunction with portal magic, made for interesting combinations.

    It was only when Chameleon had turned invisible to mundane¡ªand infrared¡ªcameras, that Tinker had sat up and noticed.

    A rogue S-ranker, he had thought, feeling a flash of territorial annoyance. What S-ranker dared challenge me in my own city?

    Tinker didn¡¯t often find himself interested in the political machinations of his fellow Council members. Controlling Topeka was low on his priorities, if he were being honest with himself. But he tolerated the distraction because it gave him a pass from public appearances, press conferences, and those dull Council meetings where they debated over dross like board members of a local HOA.

    No, his assignment to Topeka was perfect. He was never expected to intervene personally¡ªwas in fact, disallowed from doing so by the compact between the Emperor, the Council, and the SPC. Furthermore, the Wichita-controlled forces were inferior in both numbers and composition, meaning he could delegate most of the conflict within the Black Wall to his subordinates.

    And finally, it gave him unparalleled access to the Black Wall, where he was currently running dozens of experiments on the enigmatic Artifact.

    Correction, had been running dozens of experiments.

    Now, only one challenge interested him, and he was quite certain he had cracked it.

    This thorn in the Council¡¯s side, this unregistered and unheard of S-ranker who had continued to raid East Topekan stockpiles, was, in fact, not an S-ranker at all.

    He was¡ªat most¡ªa C-ranker. Tinker had toyed with the idea that he might even be a D-ranker after sampling his aura signature with sensors he had positioned in one of Chameleon¡¯s targets.

    But no¡­that would be ridiculous.

    The question was, how did a C-ranker demonstrate control over not one, but two, elements and portal capabilities?

    At first, the answer seemed obvious.

    Occam¡¯s razor¡ªthe simplest answer is usually the best.

    Chameleon was an Elementalist who had control over one element, then completed his Midmark and achieved control over the other. His portal abilities could be tied to some powerful Artifact¡ªan S-grade Artifact, he had guessed.

    An unusual¡ªand powerful¡ªprize to be sure.

    Then, a second aura signature reading had thrown a wrench into his theory.

    He had studied it for entire days, feeling the utter shock of decades of assumptions clattering to the ground around him like a house of cards.

    His target¡¯s aura signature had changed. And not just qualitatively, as would be expected of a rank up.

    It had fundamentally changed in a way that was practically indicative of an entirely different person.

    There were only two possibilities, and neither held any weight to the man, which was why he agonized over that reading for so long.

    Either, Chameleon passed his Capstone and unlocked a new class. Or, he had always been an S-ranker and one of his classes was Visionary. Only a Visionary could demonstrate a fluctuating aura signature so casually.

    Neither answer satisfied his academic gut. As a scientist, facts, numbers, and experimentation were the holy trinity. But there was a fourth factor¡ªan X-factor¡ªthat Tinker had come to rely on when faced with a problem that stymied him.

    Intuition, gut feeling, whatever it was called. He had a natural inclination to discard such amorphous instinct. But over time, he¡¯d discovered that this instinct was right more often than wrong.

    And his instinct was pointing him toward a third option¡ªone he might have dismissed out of hand in any other instance.

    Chameleon was just that¡ªa power-swapping chameleon, a copycat.

    He¡¯d heard of similar instances, of course. There were one or two Visionaries that could copy powers, reshaping their aura to mimic others. But they were always all-or-nothing, cloning powersets¡ªusually with reduced power and rigid inflexibility.

    He had never heard of a super¡ªVisionary or otherwise¡ªassimilating powers ad-hoc the way Chameleon appeared to be doing. After weeks of observation, Tinker had identified water, light, metal, and earth control from Chameleon, in addition to portals that carried an air of sophistication and skill that an Artifact shouldn¡¯t have been able to demonstrate.

    His catalog of aura signatures for Chameleon had stalled out, finally. He now felt confident that he could find the man via not only sight, smell, and sound, but also aura.

    He¡¯d only been waiting for word to come of a Chameleon sighting to test the data.

    And now, as he sailed high above the air, his HUD lit up and a rare smile touched Tinker¡¯s face¡ªthe smile of a scientist¡¯s experiment finally bearing fruit.

    With a thought, his power armor broke into a dive, breaking the sound barrier in seconds.

    I¡¯ve got you now, Chameleon.

 B2 - Chapter 2: Cat and Mouse

    When Terry broke from the alleyway onto the open field, it was with a dozen instances of his Master of Light arrayed on either side of him. It strained his aura to turn each of them invisible, both on the visible and infrared wavelengths. More than that, he had created false trails¡ªanother five barely visible distortions in the air, each racing across the muddy field at different speeds.

    Terraform¡¯s man, Klein, used his earth affinity to mask their footsteps, all the while creating false footprints up and down the field. Alan, with his water affinity, created small splashes in every direction. They ran across the field in a staggered pattern, relying upon obfuscation and sheer numbers to fool any of the fliers up ahead. There was a chance, a slight chance, that whomever was flying above would have missed the signs. They were invisible, after all.

    But as they were halfway across the field, Terry realized that would have been too good to be true. A sharp whistling sound screamed through the air above them, followed by a sonic boom that seemed to cut into his ears. He glanced up, his heart pounding in his throat, his palms sweaty as his hands pumped at his sides. At first, all he got were impressions: sunlight glinting off metal, a shape moving through the air faster than his eyes could track, yet graceful like a hummingbird.

    And then, the impact. A suit of rippling steel crashed into the mud right in front of him, and he pulled up short. He sent a quick message to the others, telling them to continue on, while he faced off¡ªnot with some C-ranker like he had expected, not even a B-ranker like he had dreaded. No, standing before him now was perhaps the most famous Artificer in North America. Tinker¡¯s power armor was iconic, the stuff of legends, of Saturday morning cartoons, the kind of armor that was almost a living thing in itself.

    Terry had fantasized, once upon a time, of owning a set of armor like that. And now, here it stood in front of him, eight feet tall, shining silver in the sun, gleaming so brightly he had to squint. A faceless exterior regarded him, penetrating through his Master of Light skill and the earth magic he was using to hide his footsteps. They regarded each other for a moment¡ªTerry, invisible to the naked eye, Tinker, looming eight feet tall and larger than life. Then, Tinker¡¯s faceplate irised away, revealing a wry smile.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid your run ends here, Chameleon.¡±

    Chameleon? Terry wondered.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a merry chase,¡± Tinker continued, ¡°and I¡¯ve enjoyed studying your power set. But I¡¯m afraid you¡¯re going to have to come with me.¡±

    Terry let his guard down, revealing himself to Tinker, though he still maintained the low-grade Artifact he was using to hide his identity¡ªa simple steel mask that modulated his voice. ¡°You¡¯ve been studying me?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Oh, yes. It¡¯s not every day I see a C-ranker demonstrate control over four elements, not to mention your mastery over portals. It¡¯s quite impressive.¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t suppress the gulp that pushed its way past his throat. ¡°That¡¯s impossible,¡± he said with a forced chuckle. ¡°Four elements and portals at the C rank? You know better than that, Tinker.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t play coy, Chameleon. You insult my intelligence. Since you know of me, you understand that I¡¯m always thorough and never make statements without evidence to back them up.¡±

    Terry nodded, stalling for time. Most of his attention was on maintaining the Master of Light illusions over the rest of his team as they raced towards the Black Wall. Tinker seemed to notice his distraction and snorted humorously.

    ¡°Oh, please. I sensed your friends the same moment I sensed you. They are inconsequential to me. I¡¯ll let them go if you promise not to put up a fight.¡±

    Terry bit his lip, letting the magic go, drawing his aura back into himself. Preparing¡ªnot for a fight, but preparing all the same. The spatial-locking Artifact, or more likely series of artifacts, were spread across East Topeka, which is why they couldn¡¯t simply portal back into the Black Wall. But each artifact was localized, its range weakening the further out from its center he went. And now, within fifty feet of the Black Wall, it felt weaker than ever. He turned his mind inward, probing at the Artifact with his senses.

    ¡°Okay, Tinker. I don¡¯t want to fight you. But I am curious.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Tinker asked.

    Terry saw a partition in the Black Wall slide open, watched his friends and Terraform¡¯s agent slip into the safety of the wall. Alan sent him a System message: We¡¯re clear.

    Terry relaxed incrementally. Tinker had a reputation of being relatively honorable, so Terry didn¡¯t think his friends would be executed if captured. But certainly, imprisonment was on the table. And unlike him, they couldn¡¯t lean on their family name to save them. All the same, Terry knew better than most that public personas were often quite different from private ones¡ªDancer being a prime example. Still, he felt himself relaxing, more comfortable when it was just his neck on the line. He began probing at space, examining it as he crafted a response to Tinker.

    ¡°Who am I to you?¡± he asked. ¡°As far as I can tell, none of the locations I¡¯ve raided were of high strategic importance to you or the Council.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± Tinker replied, that same wry smile locked into place.

    ¡°Well then, forgive me if I sound overly humble,¡± Terry continued. ¡°But, as you said, someone of my rank certainly doesn¡¯t merit the attention of the Council¡¯s S-ranker representative.¡±

    Even as Terry spoke, he continued to probe at the space, his aura refined down to a needle-thin point. As it narrowed, so did his senses. He began to recognize a web-like pattern to the nearby Artifact¡¯s magic. He knew, even at this distance, that forcing his way through, while possible, would take far too long. Instead, he tried to slide his aura into the gap, thread the needle, so to speak.

    His aura fumbled at the web as Tinker responded. ¡°You are correct, Chameleon. You are of no strategic importance to me or the Council. But I am a scientist to my very core. And, as a scientist, the thing that gets me out of bed every morning is intellectual curiosities. Let me tell you, young man, you are the most fascinating curiosity I¡¯ve run across in many years.¡±

    Terry chuckled, his voice modulating through the mask, sounding robotic. It gave his response an eerie air. ¡°I¡¯m flattered to serve as a curio for the man for whom very little sparks his curiosity.¡±

    He focused his aura tighter, narrowing it down even further. It became so thin as to be brittle, and he worried it might break from the slightest contact with the Artifact¡¯s web. All the same, he was out of options. He sent it questing forward, slowly, meticulously, probing at that infinitesimally small gap between the web. He found himself unconsciously holding his breath and diverted some of his attention to keeping his body language neutral. For an S-ranker like Tinker, especially with the artificial enhancements no doubt feeding him data through his power armor, even his heart rate must have been blaring across Tinker¡¯s senses, alerting him that Terry was more nervous than he was letting on.

    ¡°Well, I do enjoy a good challenge,¡± Tinker said, his smile dipping briefly. ¡°And though I¡¯ve enjoyed our little game of cat and mouse, I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t let you breach my Artifact¡¯s web.¡±

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    Terry felt his heart drop into his stomach. Something flashed across his senses, extending out from Tinker¡¯s power armor, buttressing the spatial-locking Artifact that he had nearly cracked. Of course, the S-ranked Artificer had sensed his fumbling attempts. He cursed under his breath.

    Then his eyes caught on movement at the base of the Black Wall. For a moment, he thought it was his friends coming back in a misguided attempt to save him, and he pulled up his System chat to rebuke them. But as the movement continued, he realized the error in his thinking, recognizing the figures collecting outside the wall.

    A smile touched his face, hidden by his mask.

    ¡°You got me, Tinker,¡± he replied cheerfully. ¡°You¡¯re too smart for me. Too strong. I surrender.¡±

    Tinker pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing in confusion. ¡°What are you up to?¡± He cut off, perhaps some sensor built into his suit picking up the movement belatedly. He peered over his shoulder and watched as a hundred ghouls spilled from the wall like wasps from a kicked nest. Behind them, five patches ranged¡ªmore than Terry had ever seen at one time. The undead procession moved uncannily, eating up the distance in seconds.

    Tinker¡¯s suit burst into life, armaments appearing all over as if from thin air. An honest-to-God turret now loomed over Tinker¡¯s shoulder, a laser quickly mapping across each of the undead, gauging distances. Wrist rockets appeared on either arm, and though Tinker didn¡¯t bring them to bear, Terry could imagine the devastation and the speed with which they could be brought to full effect. But the undead didn¡¯t falter, and though they approached at superhuman speeds, Terry recognized that they weren¡¯t attacking, but rather gathering, heralding their leader, who approached much more lazily behind them.

    Terry¡¯s smile widened as he recognized his father, Prince James, the Commander of the undead legions, riding on Skol¡¯s back, Hati close behind at their shoulder. The two dire wolves approached, the ghouls and patches parting to let them through, and though his father had a set determination to his lips, Terry couldn¡¯t help but notice those eyes flashing towards him, green magic dancing in that gaze.

    Prince James and his dire wolves stopped a dozen feet before Tinker, all three of them regarding the S-ranker with a predator¡¯s gaze. ¡°Damien, you old mad scientist,¡± he said gruffly, ¡°what the hell are you doing on the field? You know the rules.¡±

    ¡°Is that how you address your elders, you young pup?¡± Tinker fired back. ¡°Last I checked, East Topeka was my charge. I¡¯m simply dealing with a rat problem; it¡¯s none of your concern. Go back into the wall before I make you.¡±

    ¡°So much bluster,¡± James said with a hearty laugh. ¡°I know you like me too much to kill me, even if the SPC weren¡¯t watching us. But just in case your opinion of me has soured inadvertently, know that we have wraithglass recordings of this meeting transmitting back to the Emperor even now.¡±

    Terry used the distraction to approach the web once more, but with more finesse, less panic, running the fingers of his aura over the web rather than trying to punch through. Tinker¡¯s localized spatial-locking Artifact was obviously built into the suit, but Artifacts were complicated beasts. The more generalized their purpose, the less effective they were at any one task, and Tinker¡¯s power armor was as generalized as it got. He could never be as strong as a specialized spatial-locking Artifact, and so all Terry needed was a little bit of distance.

    Slowly, subtly, he activated Master of Light, bending his appearance just a fraction. As quietly as he could, he began to step backward, away from the undead, from his father, and from Tinker¡¯s Artifact. He timed his footsteps with the sounds of their conversation, masking his movement even to their high-ranking senses.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, Commander. I have no intention of killing you. The paperwork would be immense, and it¡¯s far beneath me¡ªa waste of my time.¡±

    They both chuckled dryly at that, as if they were sharing a drink and discussing world events rather than facing off on the battlefield.

    ¡°However, that is not to say I won¡¯t spank you around this field if you press me. A hundred of your rotters, a thousand¡ªit makes no difference. I am an S-ranker, Commander, and if you force me, I¡¯ll remind you of that fact.¡±

    Tinker angled his body, facing the undead. Red lasers sprung out, locking on the patches and the ghouls but sparing James and his dire wolves.

    ¡°Chameleon is my prize, one I¡¯ve been hunting down for weeks. Leave him.¡±

    ¡°Chameleon?¡± James asked with a snort. ¡°Is that the name we settled on for this rogue super? I thought we were going with Copycat, maybe Mimic, I don¡¯t know¡ªPain in the Ass. But Chameleon?¡± He scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°Lacks gravitas, you know?¡±

    A boom filled the sky, drawing their eyes upward. A man flew in low, hovering in the space above them.

    ¡°Tinker, what is the meaning of this?¡± he demanded. ¡°You know the rules concerning S-rankers on the field. Would you invite total destruction on this city?¡±

    ¡°Oh, come off it, Paragon,¡± Tinker replied. ¡°And will you get out of the sky? I¡¯m not going to crane my neck up to look at you.¡±

    The flying super scowled but slowly sank to the earth, turning towards Terry¡¯s father. ¡°And Prince James, I expected better of you. To openly provoke an S-ranker¡ªwhat did you hope to achieve?¡±

    Terry used the distraction and took three more steps. He felt the web weakening and searched for that sweet spot between the power armor¡¯s locking effect and the Artifact deeper in the city¡ªthat point where the overlap became thinnest.

    ¡°What did I hope to achieve?¡± James asked slowly. ¡°As you said yourself, the rules are quite clear. I spotted Tinker in the field, not a hundred feet from the wall, and the SPC nowhere to be found.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not the one courting open war here.¡±

    Another three steps¡ªslowly, inexorably inching backward. He found it, that sweet spot. He pushed that needle-thin point of aura through the gap, found the other side, exultant like a drowning man finally breaching the surface, gasping for air.

    ¡°I won¡¯t give up my prize,¡± Tinker said, his tone turning serious. ¡°Chameleon¡¯s mine, and none of you have the strength to stop me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll file a formal complaint with the Council and SPC,¡± the representative complained. ¡°Wait¡ªChameleon?¡±

    Terry felt the SPC agent¡¯s gaze turn towards him. ¡°You are the Chameleon?¡± he asked.

    Tinker turned, realizing the gap Terry had created between the two of them.

    Now or never, Terry realized. He coaxed space apart, feeling it yield finally. Tinker¡¯s eyes went wide. The portal opened instantaneously and Terry angled his body inside.

    ¡°You know,¡± Terry replied, ¡°I¡¯m not very fond of that name, but yeah, I guess I¡¯m the Chameleon.¡±

    Tinker moved, but it was too late. As he stepped through the portal, Terry gave Tinker a quick wave and a wink.

    A moment later, he was back inside the Black Wall, his heart threatening to pound its way out of his chest.

    Too close, Terry¡­too close.

    <hr>

    A howl of rage erupted from Tinker, cut off at the source as his mask irised back into place, blocking the sound of his impotent fury. James very carefully kept the smile threatening to form off his face. Tinker whirled around, the rage evident in his body posture, even with his face masked.

    ¡°You,¡± he growled, pointing his finger toward James. ¡°You let him get away.¡±

    James put a hand to his chest, innocently. ¡°Me? Why is this my fault?¡± He nodded towards the SPC rep. ¡°Paragon¡¯s the one that interrupted our little t¨ºte-¨¤-t¨ºte.

    ¡°He¡¯s one of yours, isn¡¯t he?¡± Tinker continued, ignoring James¡¯s deflection toward Paragon. ¡°An unregistered super on your payroll, isn¡¯t he?¡±

    James shook his head. ¡°This rage is unlike you, Tinker. This Chameleon is putting you off your game.¡±

    Tinker remained silent for a moment, and Paragon used the gap as an opportunity to speak. But as soon as he opened his mouth, Tinker shot him an expressionless, blank look of steel that somehow perfectly transmitted the open threat. Paragon¡¯s jaw snapped shut.

    Tinker eyed the SPC representative for a moment longer before turning back towards James. ¡°Commander,¡± he drawled, his tone filled with ice, ¡°if you won¡¯t claim him, the rules of this little war do not apply. I will take him by any means necessary.¡±

    James kept his expression flat, waving a dismissive hand. ¡°Do what you want, Tinker. Just stay off the battlefield, as we¡¯ve agreed. I¡¯d hate to have to call on my father. Heavens know Topeka suffered enough without two S-rankers fighting on the open field.¡±

    ¡°The SPC will not allow open conflict¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, shut up,¡± Tinker growled, aiming his fist towards Paragon. The man blanched at the movement, holding his hands up in a passive gesture.

    ¡°I¡¯ll just be going now to file my report,¡± he stammered. He backed away, taking to the air once more, gone with the thunderclap of a sonic boom.

    Tinker held his arm up, watching the representative¡¯s retreat, clearly lost in thought, fighting to keep his anger down. James flared his aura, spoke quietly in rapid-fire ghoulish, and eyed Tinker as his undead warriors filed back into the Black Wall.

    ¡°Always a pleasure, Tinker.¡±

    ¡°Fuck off, James.¡±

    James gave a faux salute and signaled for his dire wolves to take him back to the wall. As he turned away, he couldn¡¯t resist the grin that filled his face. A System message that he had been ignoring flashed in his vision.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Thanks, Dad. Sorry you had to get involved.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [James]: Stay safe, kiddo.

    </blockquote>

 B2 - Chapter 3: Under the Black Wall

    The portal snapped shut behind him with a whoosh of air. He found himself in the familiar tunnels of the Black Wall. The interior structure of the wall was uniform in makeup, though its tunnels made a dizzying array of arteries that shifted and turned daily. Drones and nanobots modulated the placement of the tunnels on a 24-hour cycle, making it impossible to know exactly where he was in relation to their base. Fortunately, the map they had procured earlier that morning gave his team a snapshot that they could lean on to find the rendezvous point and meet up with them. Thankfully, he didn¡¯t have to wait long.

    Voices echoed down the tunnel minutes later, frantic, a tinge of terror underlying their tones.

    ¡°Did he make it out?¡± That was Klein, Terraform¡¯s agent. ¡°Did he message you? Anyone? Did he send a message?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I think so,¡± Alan said.

    ¡°You think or you know?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. His message was confusing.¡±

    ¡°Oh God,¡± Klein said, panic rising in his voice. ¡°Oh God, if he¡¯s been captured or worse¡ª¡±

    Terry turned the corner, coming into view. He held his hands up in a welcoming gesture.

    ¡°Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated,¡± he shouted with dramatic flair.

    Most of the group startled at his sudden appearance, though Tania merely glowered, narrowing her eyes.

    ¡°You asshole,¡± she said.

    He chuckled lightly, walking towards them.

    ¡°How¡¯d you get out?¡± Alan asked. ¡°Seemed like Tinker had you dead to rights.¡±

    Terry waged an internal battle. How much to tell them, he wondered. It had been close¡ªfar closer than he cared to admit. But did it do them any good to shake their confidence? He decided to hedge his bets.

    ¡°Tinker had a spatial-locking Artifact in his suit, but I was able to use the arrival of my father and his soldiers to distract Tinker long enough to get some distance. Then that SPC representative, Paragon, showed up. They were all arguing about Tinker¡¯s presence on the field, and that¡¯s when I made a move.¡±

    Tania crossed her arms. ¡°That was too close, Terry.¡±

    Alan nodded in agreement, casting a dark look towards Klein.

    ¡°If this fool had just followed the damn coordinates¡ª¡±

    ¡°You try perfectly zeroing in on coordinates without any sort of map or technology,¡± Klein fired back.

    ¡°Enough,¡± Terry said, cutting across their bickering. ¡°This isn¡¯t the place for this. We did it. We slipped Tinker¡¯s net. We¡¯ve got Klein. Let¡¯s get back to base and get ready to travel to the Market.¡±

    The group reluctantly agreed, following Terry as he took the lead.

    ¡°Alan, you got that map?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, here it is, Terry.¡± He handed over the map, and Terry led the way.

    Under any other circumstances, Terry could have simply portaled back to their makeshift base, deep in the wall¡¯s foundation. But with Tinker on the hunt, he didn¡¯t dare. An S-Ranker of Tinker¡¯s caliber, with his understanding of Traveler magic, could theoretically trace their portal usage. It wouldn¡¯t be long before Terry and his team found themselves raided by Council soldiers. To be as cautious as possible, they had to walk back the old-fashioned way. This decision wasn¡¯t without its own dangers; after all, the wall served as the battlefront between East and West Topeka.

    After glancing at the map, Terry surmised they were maybe thirty minutes away from the base¡ªa couple of miles at a careful pace. They kept their chatter to a minimum, especially after Tania told Klein, not so politely, to shut his trap after another bout of complaints. In the ensuing silence, they heard the sounds echoing up the tunnel before the other group heard them.

    Terry immediately reached for his portal magic. Though it wasn¡¯t restricted within the wall, he had discovered that the ever-shifting patterns of the tunnels and the weird resonance of its material made travel a bit more difficult than out in the open. He considered ordering them back the way they came, but before he could, a voice echoed towards them.

    ¡°Hello there?¡± It was a question, not exactly unfriendly, and the moment to flee had passed.

    A group of five men and women turned the corner a moment later. Terry sent a quick series of messages to Klein, Alan, Peter¡ªand just hoped Tania would follow their lead¡ªbefore speaking out loud. ¡°Hey there.¡±

    The leader of the group stopped about fifty feet away at the other end of the tunnel. ¡°East or West?¡± he asked.

    Terry tried for a disarming smile. ¡°Neutral party,¡± he replied. ¡°Just passing through, hoping for some loot.¡±

    The other man hesitated, glancing back towards his party before replying, ¡°Same here. Any luck today?¡±

    Terry shrugged with a chagrined look. ¡°Nah, slow day today. You?¡±

    ¡°Eh, so-so,¡± the man replied. He took a step forward, his hands held casually at his side¡ªa bit too casually. His eyes flicked, going slightly unfocused for the briefest moment. If Terry had been any less on guard, he might not have noticed it at all.

    A System message, Terry realized. The man was possibly calling for backup, or worse, informing Tinker of their location. He had known the moment they¡¯d come into view that they weren¡¯t a delving party and certainly weren¡¯t neutral. Though they hid it well, underneath the facade, they carried the trappings of Council-equipped soldiers and were moving in a group of five¡ªstandard numbers for a Council raiding party. Of course, Terry¡¯s group also numbered five, but that was intentional, to make them look like East Topekans. He got the impression this man and his group hadn¡¯t realized what their numbers said about them.

    Terry sent another system message to Klein.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: When I give you the signal, close off the tunnel in front of us.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Klein]: It¡¯s a composite material. I¡¯m not even sure if I can.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Just do it, on my go.

    </blockquote>

    He sent a message to Alan, who had their tech jammer. It was a cereal box toy compared to Tinker, but it had a good shot of shutting down standard radios and minor Artifacts.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Ready?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Alan]: Ready.

    </blockquote>

    Terry let his senses range forward, slowly, relying upon his Mask Signature talent to hide his intentions. There had been a moment or two of silence, both teams beginning to fidget nervously. Terry broke that silence, even as his aura ranged over the other group. ¡°How about this?¡± he asked. ¡°We¡¯ll cede the tunnel, head back the way we came. You guys have the right of way.¡±

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    The leader narrowed his eyes in confusion. Terry was already backing up, but the man burst out, ¡°We don¡¯t mind just passing by. Just keep your auras inert, and we¡¯ll do the same. Ships in the night.¡±

    Terry gave him a charming smile, even as they backed up another step. ¡°We don¡¯t mind detouring. Just give us a few minutes¡¯ head start.¡± The team backed up some more.

    The man abandoned subterfuge, his hand flicking to his belt.

    Terry knew what it was right away. And he was faster. ¡°Klein, Alan, now!¡± he shouted.

    ¡°Non-lethal ordinance for the Chameleon!¡± the leader shouted as his finger reached for the Artifact on his hip. ¡°Tinker wants him alive!¡±

    Before the man could activate the spatial-locking Artifact¡ªeven before Alan could trigger his own tech jammer¡ªthe edges of the wall tunnel liquefied, forming a barrier in front of them, blocking off their line of sight. As much as Klein complained, he was good at his craft.

    His portal burst into existence a split second before the man¡¯s Artifact activated, throwing a web over his senses, trying to smother the portal that he had punched through space. If he had tried to reach deep into the wall, cutting through the miles that led back to their base, the Artifact might have succeeded in cutting off their escape. But he had created a short portal, only a couple of hundred feet away. Tania didn¡¯t need any prompting. She was the first through the portal, and the others took her lead. Terry followed up the group, and as he burst through, he could hear the frantic shouting and commands from the East Topekan team just down the hall. Judging by the way those sounds echoed, they were running toward where Terry and them had been a moment before¡ªwhich just so happened to be the opposite direction of where they were now.

    ¡°They bought it,¡± he said quietly to the others. ¡°Klein, how long will that wall hold?¡±

    ¡°I can hold it indefinitely,¡± Klein replied, ¡°if we stay nearby. Otherwise, it will start dissipating. The wall is fighting me, even now.¡±

    ¡°Okay, let it go. We¡¯ve got the map, and they don¡¯t know which way we went. Let¡¯s get a move on, quietly.¡±

    The portal Terry had created hadn¡¯t led away from the group but had actually passed through to the other side, behind the corner the East Topekans had first rounded. The wall that Klein had created would make the East Topekan team think they were fleeing back the way they had originally come.

    They were home free now.

    <hr>

    They passed through half a dozen more portals to throw off any potential trail. The last mile they walked on foot, deeper into the wall, practically into the subsoil that marked where the wall ended and the actual earth began. A quarter mile out from their base of operations, Terry spotted the first sensor and deactivated it with the code of the day. They passed a dozen more sensors on their way; he deactivated and then reactivated each in turn.

    The final deterrent was a wall designed to look like any other within the interior of the Black Wall. To anyone unaware, it would appear as if they had reached a dead end. Normally, Terry would have portaled them through the ten feet of solid stone and metal, but with Klein at their side, it only took a simple flex of his aura and a few minutes to smooth the surface back over, recreating the illusion.

    When they emerged on the other side of the portal, a long hallway stretched before them, with rooms branching off to the left and the right¡ªtheir makeshift bedrooms. At the end of the hallway, the space opened into a great room, sunken into the earth. They had had to destroy an automaton to claim their makeshift lair. At first, it had seemed strange to Terry and the others. The Black Wall was riddled with dangers at every corner: mini-dungeons, boss fights, control points, and more. The SPC had gone all out, utilizing a team of Artificers and Elementalists to gamify control of the interior of the wall.

    Their lair location was perfect, deep down in the earth, away from most of the fighting, and too far from both West and East Topeka to serve any strategic value. They were like moles, burrowed to the very edges of the warzone. They only came up for air to gather supplies or, in some cases, make contact with third party agents like Klein.

    As they walked down the hallway, flashes of light illuminated the great room in the distance, evidence of Sol and Tristan working hard to get the man into the D ranks. They had linked up with Sol early in their tenure in Topeka. Terry had been a bit surprised to receive a System message from the man, and at first, he had wondered if he could trust Sol. But after a couple of days of messaging back and forth, Terry realized that the man who could turn light into a fire that eclipsed a nuclear blast, had mostly lost the fire inside his chest. The candle that was his spirit had seemed to gutter out. Though Sol was passionate about taking back his city, in the six weeks they had been working together, he had never once left their makeshift lair.

    In private, Tania had urged Terry to utilize the S-ranker, to level the playing field, so to speak. But to Terry¡¯s eyes, Sol seemed not quite a broken man, but one teetering on the edge of oblivion. If he pushed too hard, Terry feared the man might fall into the abyss forever. So he was happy that the former leader of Topeka had an outlet, a way to make himself feel useful. As he tutored Tristan, stepping into Flore¡¯s shoes, and provided them with strategic advice on dealing with the council, it seemed he had found a purpose once more.

    As the group filtered into the great room, he noticed Sol and Tristan sitting around a table, a small candle lit in front of them. Sol was in the middle of a lecture but paused when he saw their arrival.

    ¡°Ah, our intrepid heroes,¡± he said cheerfully. ¡°And this must be Terraform¡¯s man. Klein, was it?¡±

    Klein stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide. ¡°Are y-you Sol? As in Sol, le-leader of the Knights of Sol?¡± he stammered.

    Sol¡¯s face dropped, his eye twitching briefly before a forced smile found its way onto his face. ¡°The very same, my boy, the very same. Though the Knights of Sol are dead.¡±

    Terry put a hand on Klein¡¯s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze¡ªa subtle hint to steer the conversation elsewhere. ¡°We ran into a snag,¡± Terry said, trying to change the subject. ¡°Tinker himself took to the field.¡±

    Sol¡¯s eyes went wide. Tristan gasped. ¡°Tinker came himself?¡± Sol asked, incredulous.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way,¡± Tristan added. ¡°He¡¯d bring the whole SPC down on his head.¡±

    ¡°Oh, there¡¯s a way,¡± Tania replied glibly. ¡°The fucker showed up in his power armor and everything.¡±

    ¡°He what?¡± Sol exclaimed. ¡°How did you escape?¡±

    ¡°Terry¡¯s father showed up with about a hundred ghouls, distracted Tinker while we fled,¡± Alan said with a smirk, then added, ¡°And Terry punched a hole through space. We met up inside the wall.¡±

    The concern on Sol¡¯s face grew as Alan spoke, a look of horror lodging there. ¡°No, no, no,¡± he stammered. ¡°That¡¯s not possible. He¡¯s put a tracker on you. He¡¯s probably on his way now!¡±

    Sol burst to his feet, looking around wildly. ¡°We have to go. Don¡¯t pack anything, just go!¡±

    Terry bit his lip, looking around the group subtly before strolling down the stairs toward the world-famous S-Ranker. ¡°Sol, it¡¯s okay,¡± he said calmly. ¡°I got away cleanly.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t know that,¡± Sol barked. ¡°Artificers have their tricks, Terry, and Tinker¡¯s the trickiest of them all.¡±

    Over Sol¡¯s shoulder, Terry saw Tristan glance toward his new mentor with a concerned look. Behind him, he heard Klein begin to panic. ¡°Maybe he¡¯s right,¡± the man stammered. ¡°It did seem like we got away a little bit too easily, didn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Tania asked incredulously. ¡°No, not at all. We barely made it by the skin of our fucking teeth. Sol, calm down.¡± She whirled on Klein. ¡°And newbie, stop aggravating him!¡±

    Sol¡¯s breathing became audible, filling the great room as if he were struggling to pull in breath¡ªthe beginnings of a panic attack. Terry had realized what this was after the first time. He had suggested Sol take to the surface with them and the man had nearly ashed the entire room¡ªand them with it. Since then, they¡¯d been much more circumspect when talking about the war or their raids up top.

    But now, it seemed Sol was on the verge of another attack. The lighting in the room flickered, then dimmed eerily. The candle sitting on the table began to melt rapidly, the flame drawing higher and higher, angling unnaturally toward Sol¡¯s body, absorbing through his skin¡ªdeep into his core.

    Looks of panic began to form among the others. Tania and Terry locked eyes, and she nodded her head toward Sol urgently.

    He approached the S-Ranker, holding his hands out in a calming gesture. ¡°Sol, it¡¯s gonna be okay. No one¡¯s coming for us.¡±

    ¡°How do you know, Terry? How do you know?¡±

    ¡°We covered our tracks, Sol. We scanned ourselves with the sniffer Artifact, took half a dozen portals¡ªeven walked the last mile. There¡¯s no way they tracked us, okay?¡±

    Sol¡¯s eyes scanned the corners of the room, flicking toward the shadows as if Tinker himself were going to walk into the light from behind the table. Tristan, picking up on Terry¡¯s cues, walked around the chair and put a hand on Sol¡¯s shoulder. The man flinched, then turned to see his new apprentice, concern in his eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Sol,¡± Tristan said quietly, as if speaking to a spooked horse. ¡°We¡¯re okay.¡±

    Sol heaved in a deep breath, then let it out. The crazed look in his eye dimmed and sense seemed to return. When he glanced over at the larger group, he saw their concern directed toward him, realizing that he had been scaring everyone else just as much as he had been scaring himself.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± he said softly. ¡°I¡¯m okay. Sorry about that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Sol,¡± Terry said, trying to keep his voice calm. ¡°We understand your concern, but we¡¯re safe here.¡±

    Sol nodded absentmindedly, resting a hand on the table. He looked weary, his skin pallid, the bones almost peeking out from beneath his clothes. His hair was tinted white, not from old age¡ªsince S-Rankers practically didn¡¯t age¡ªbut from anxiety, stress, and terror.

    Over a year in Necroton¡¯s dungeon had done a number on him.

    It pained Terry to see a once-great man reduced to a shell of himself, jumping at every shadow, every thump, every suggestion of conflict or capture. But he had to remind himself to be patient. No one knew Topeka better than Sol, and if he could recover his nerve, he would be their greatest weapon in reclaiming the city.

    But first, they needed to get him some mental health help. Someone to talk to¡ªmaybe even a trained Hypnotist.

    And Terry knew just the place to hire someone of that caliber.

    ¡°Now that Klein¡¯s here,¡± he said to the group. ¡°It¡¯s time to return to the Market. We each have our reasons for heading back and I¡¯m not comfortable leaving anyone here by themselves. Pack what you¡¯ll need and be ready to go.

    ¡°We head for the Market in twenty minutes.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 4: Return to the Market

    When they left their makeshift lair deep underneath the wall, they were forced to squish together on the stone platform Klein had created. Despite their pleas for a wider platform, it quickly became apparent that there were limitations to Klein¡¯s powers. Though he was a C-ranker, just as Vlad had been, Terry began to realize that there were levels within a given rank. Vlad had been particularly powerful for a C-ranker, while Klein appeared to be, if not below average, then firmly middle-of-the-pack. Still, they made do with the limited space.

    Katie and Peter huddled in a corner, talking quietly amongst themselves. Alan and Tania pulled out a pack of cards to whittle away the time. Tristan and Sol occupied another corner, continuing their lesson on Light manipulation, while Klein stood at the head of the platform, propelling them through the earth towards Terraform¡¯s Market.

    Terry surveyed the group, feeling drawn toward the card game but realizing that the next few hours would be better spent practicing his abilities. An idea had been niggling at his brain, but he¡¯d been too busy to chase it down. Now, with the forced boredom and an expert Light Elementalist at hand, it seemed like the perfect time to see if the idea had merit.

    As he walked over to Tristan and Sol, he pulled out the Artifact he had taken from Wichita all those months ago, colloquially referred to as a Lamp. He hoped that utilizing this powerful, magically enhanced device could help him unlock the full capabilities of his Light manipulation.

    ¡°Hey guys, mind if I join you?¡± Terry asked.

    Tristan and Sol gladly made space for him to sit cross-legged nearby.

    ¡°Join us, my boy,¡± Sol said eagerly. ¡°We were just discussing wavelength manipulation.¡±

    ¡°Oh, sounds interesting,¡± Terry replied. ¡°I did have a question for you though, Sol.¡±

    Sol¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Terry said hesitantly. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I told you, but I was a pretty big fan growing up.¡±

    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t tell me.¡±

    Terry felt his face flush. ¡°Yeah, I might have had your poster on my wall,¡± he said with a chuckle.

    ¡°Ooh, how¡¯d I look?¡± Sol asked with a wry smile.

    ¡°Like a golden god.¡±

    Tristan and Sol laughed at that.

    ¡°But the reason I bring it up is, I¡¯ve seen a lot of what you can do with your powers, and I was wondering if¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes? Don¡¯t be coy. I¡¯m an open book.¡±

    For some reason, Terry felt silly asking the question, leaning into this idle fantasy. ¡°Well, I guess I was wondering if you were able to create lasers with your powers?¡±

    A smile split Sol¡¯s face. ¡°Oh, yes, Terry. I¡¯m not just a walking nuke, you know.¡±

    A chagrined expression crossed Terry¡¯s face, and he quickly tried to backtrack. ¡°No, no, I¡¯m not saying that¡ª¡±

    Sol waved away his concern. ¡°I¡¯m just kidding. And to answer your question, yes, I can create lasers. It¡¯s a difficult process, though¡ªfinicky, requires supreme control. Although, now that I think about your use of portals, there are some interesting applications.¡±

    Terry shot Tristan an embarrassed look. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to hijack your training session. It¡¯s just¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, no, no,¡± Tristan interrupted. ¡°Lasers are freaking cool. If Sol can teach us to make lasers, I¡¯m all about it.¡±

    Terry turned back to Sol. ¡°Do you think¡­we could learn to create lasers?¡±

    Sol put a thoughtful finger to his lip. ¡°Hmm, that depends on you. I think it¡¯s possible, but not all lasers are created equal. You could easily create a laser to judge ranges or mark targets, but that doesn¡¯t necessarily mean you¡¯ll be cutting through metal or finding practical use in combat.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m willing to try,¡± Terry said, ¡°if you¡¯re willing to teach me.¡±

    Sol turned to Tristan with a questioning look. ¡°You sure? I feel like you¡¯re close to a breakthrough. Don¡¯t want to lose your momentum.¡±

    Tristan nodded enthusiastically. ¡°My brain was fried anyway. I could use a mental break. Plus, I want to see this.¡±

    Sol chuckled lightly. ¡°Okay.¡± His eyes trailed down to the Lamp artifact on Terry¡¯s hip. ¡°And I see you came prepared.¡±

    Terry rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a second wave of red touch his face. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯ll work or be helpful in any way, but I figured we needed some sort of energy source since I¡¯m not an Infuser.¡±

    Sol held out his hand. ¡°Can I take a look?¡±

    ¡°Oh, sure.¡± Terry detached the Lamp and handed it over. Sol studied the Artifact for a minute, then flicked the switch, turning it on. Blinding bright light shot out in a wave, and cries of pain and surprise echoed from the others, unprepared for the sudden brilliance.

    ¡°Turn it off!¡± Tania yelled.

    ¡°My eyes!¡± Alan cried dramatically. ¡°Oh, my eyes!¡±

    Rather than turn the Lamp off, Sol simply flexed his aura. The light shifted, turning into a thin strand that pooled into his palm like a ball of liquid magma. To Terry¡¯s eye, it almost seemed as if the Lamp was off, the way all the brilliance had gathered into Sol¡¯s hand. But as he reached out with his senses, he realized that Sol was continuously drawing energy from the Artifact, increasing the intensity of the ball of light cupped idly before them.

    Terry watched in fascination, using his aura to try and map exactly what Sol was doing. After a few moments, Sol flicked the Lamp off, but the ball of light remained cupped in his hand.

    ¡°Open your senses, boys. Follow along.¡± With the light in his right hand, he reached out with his left. Terry opened his aura senses as wide as he could.

    ¡°There are a few specific requirements to take simple, diffuse light and turn it into a directed beam capable of cutting through metal or flesh.¡± They watched as Sol¡¯s aura kneaded the light, shaping it like dough, drawing the ball out into a thin strand in the center. As he created that thin strand, the excess material formed at the ends, creating an almost dumbbell shape with the light.

    ¡°The first thing you need to understand about lasers,¡± Sol continued, ¡°is the concept of directionality, otherwise known as collimation. The waves of light need to be parallel to each other, moving in the direction you want your laser to point. Do you see what I¡¯m doing with my aura here?¡±

    Terry leaned in close, letting his senses range over the thin strand of light. He felt Sol¡¯s aura creating a structure, almost like a thin tunnel corralling the light, funneling it in a straight line. He said as much, and Sol nodded in agreement.

    ¡°The next thing you need to take into account is wavelength. All the photons in a laser must be of the same wavelength, otherwise known as monochromaticity.¡± Sol grinned at the long word. ¡°Basically, it just means the light needs to be the same color.¡±

    A second stream of aura traced along his finger, shifting the light¡¯s color from yellow to green to blue to red, then invisible, then back to cycling through the gamut of the rainbow before settling on a bright red color inside the thin tunnel.

    ¡°The third piece is coherence. The phase of the waves needs to be in sync.¡± He suddenly pointed towards Tristan. ¡°Can you expound upon that, Tristan?¡±

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    Tristan flinched at being called out, his eyes flashing wide for a moment before he looked off in thought. ¡°Well,¡± he started to say, ¡°even if the wavelengths are the same size and shape, if they¡¯re not in alignment, they actually have a¡­destructive influence on each other, canceling each other out in a way, lowering the intensity.¡±

    Sol nodded. ¡°Good, good.¡± Then he waved his hand for Tristan to continue.

    ¡°But if the wavelengths are in phase, as in they match up with each other, they actually have an amplification effect, increasing the intensity.¡±

    Sol snapped his fingers and pointed at Tristan once more. ¡°Exactly. How do we get our light to align into an amplification phase?¡± He pointed at Terry now. ¡°Terry, any thoughts?¡±

    ¡°Um,¡± Terry felt his pulse elevate, a spike of anxiety at being asked a question well outside his wheelhouse. ¡°To be honest, I don¡¯t know much about light phases or coherence.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine, that¡¯s fine,¡± Sol said quickly. ¡°Just throw out an idea. There¡¯s no wrong responses. We¡¯re just brainstorming here.¡±

    Terry thought back to what little he knew about lasers. Of course, he had done some research when the idea had begun to form, but he hadn¡¯t exactly had ready access to the internet. And pestering Whipvine or his father to do research for him over System chat wasn¡¯t something that sat right with him.

    ¡°Well,¡± he started. ¡°I know that mirrors are used in lasers sometimes. And there¡¯s something in between the mirrors¡­¡± He tried to remember the name. ¡°Something about a gain?¡±

    Sol nodded enthusiastically. Whatever Terry¡¯s opinion of Sol the hero had been, he had to admit that Sol the teacher was an eager and interested educator¡ªthe type of teacher that could make a boring subject seem exciting and novel with his own energy.

    ¡°Good, Terry. Lasers do use mirrors and what¡¯s called a gain medium. Tristan, I know you know this, but let¡¯s get Terry up to speed. A gain medium is a particular substance, could be gas, liquid, type of rare earth element, and so on. When photons are introduced into the gain medium, there¡¯s a reaction that forms additional photons of the same wavelength and phase¡ªclones of the originator photon. Now, these photons are in phase and they reflect off of a mirror, sending them back through the gain medium. More photons in phase are created, bouncing off a second mirror, and so on. As these photons are formed in phase, the intensity of the light increases. And eventually, these in-phase photons will exit and form what we call a laser.¡±

    Sol looked at Tristan. ¡°Now the question is, can we bring photons in phase with one another? Tristan, what do you think?¡±

    Tristan pursed his lips in thought. ¡°There¡¯s a couple of ways I could think of,¡± he started.

    ¡°Please,¡± Sol said. ¡°The floor is yours.¡±

    Tristan glanced at Terry nervously. ¡°Well, my first thought was a filter, like a lens, where only photons in phase can pass through.¡±

    ¡°Mm-hmm,¡± Sol said. ¡°It sounds like you¡¯re on the right track. Keep going.¡±

    ¡°So if we had a way of filtering out the light so that only the in-phase photons can propagate, then we should be able to create a coherent beam, although I don¡¯t know if it¡¯ll be a laser per se.¡±

    ¡°Okay, yeah.¡± Sol turned to Terry. The way he said it, Terry wasn¡¯t sure if Tristan had said something stupid or genius. ¡°Any other thoughts, Terry?¡±

    ¡°We can shift the wavelength, right? So, who¡¯s to say we can¡¯t shift the timing of the wavelength as well?¡±

    Sol smiled, and Terry felt emboldened, like he might be on the right track. He looked at the thin stream of light, still cupped between Sol¡¯s palms. It was strange, now that he really examined it. To the naked eye, the light didn¡¯t course back and forth through the tunnel Sol had created with his aura, but at the same time, he knew the light wasn¡¯t static. By its very underlying foundation, it had to be constantly in motion.

    He reached out with his aura, and tried to sense the physical light being contained within Sol¡¯s aura. He tried to feel the movement of the photons, to gauge their speed and trajectory. But as soon as his aura touched the light, there seemed to be conflicting sensations. He felt the energy transmitted by the light but couldn¡¯t sense any motion, even though he knew the light must be moving¡ªit was reflecting to his eyes, after all.

    On a whim, he began to form a small portal, no bigger than the fingernail on his pinky. He noticed Sol narrowing his eyes, but the man didn¡¯t interrupt. The small, thumbnail-sized exit portal pointed ahead of them at head level, aiming down the direction of the tunnel that Klein was actively creating as he ferried them further towards the Market. Then Terry began to form the entrance portal, equally as small, right in the center of that thin strand of light connecting the two balls that made up either side of the dumbbell.

    As soon as the portal formed, that sharp line of brilliant light shot through the exit portal but quickly diffused as it left Sol¡¯s control. The entire tunnel was cast in a wave of brilliant light, and the others grumbled once more as they were temporarily blinded. But Terry didn¡¯t let the portal go. Instead, he released the exit portal and formed a new one back in between that thin strand of light, such that the entrance and exit of his two thumbnail-sized portals were facing each other.

    Sol leaned in with interest while Tristan narrowed his eyes. The strand of light Terry had intercepted became trapped in the loop, entering his portal, exiting in the same line, entering again, and so on. Sol¡¯s aura maintained that thin tunnel, corralling the light into that directional beam.

    ¡°Interesting idea,¡± Sol said quietly. ¡°We have the directionality and we have the monochromaticity, but we¡¯re still missing that coherence piece.¡±

    With the light all in the same wavelength and direction, the only step left was to figure out how to alter the photons to be within the same phase.

    When Terry activated his Master of Light skill, there was an element of autopilot to it, as with all System skills. Part of it was conscious control of his aura, but a significant piece was the System guiding his hand, almost listening to his intentions. He knew from past experience that System Skills were guidelines that could be altered. In fact, altering those guidelines was how he had discovered his Master of Light Skill in the first place.

    However, he also knew that progress essentially came down to trial and error. So, with Sol¡¯s guidance and Tristan¡¯s assistance, he settled in for a multi-hour session to find the limits of his Master of Light ability. Terry lost track of the hours, absorbed in the task, and was surprised when Klein finally called out that they were approaching the Market.

    Though he felt like he had made little progress, Sol ended the session with an enthusiastic clap and a genuine smile.

    ¡°Excellent work, boys. Excellent. We¡¯ve made serious ground here.¡±

    ¡°We did?¡± Tristan asked, glancing questioningly at Terry.

    Terry could only shrug back.

    ¡°Of course, Tristan. Did you think you¡¯d unlock lasers in a couple of hours? At E-Rank?¡± Sol¡¯s tone was teasing, and Tristan flushed in embarrassment. ¡°Even at D-Rank, that¡¯s a tall order. But we¡¯re laying the foundation. Rome wasn¡¯t built in a day, after all.¡±

    Terry had to admit to himself that he had kind of expected to unlock lasers in a couple of hours. Something about being tutored by the greatest Light Elementalist of all time filled him with perhaps unjustified confidence. Despite the lack of immediate tangible results, they ended the session in good spirits.

    Terry stood, stretching his aching back, realizing that his legs had gone numb at some point. As the painful prickles stabbed up and down his body, Terraform¡¯s glass golem materialized on their platform.

    ¡°Ah, some old faces and some new,¡± the golem said. ¡°Be welcome in my Market.¡± Then the golem turned towards Sol, who inexplicably had begun to slink behind Terry. ¡°Don¡¯t be coy, Sol,¡± the golem added with a tinkling laugh. ¡°I¡¯m pleased to see you out of Necroton¡¯s dungeon.¡±

    Sol slowly stepped around Terry, his eyes cast to the platform floor. ¡°Ah, thanks,¡± he stuttered. All his earlier confidence and exuberance seemed to have evaporated with the arrival of Terraform¡¯s golem.

    If Terraform noticed Sol¡¯s reticence, he didn¡¯t comment on it. Instead, he turned towards Terry. ¡°And you, Terry, well into the D-ranks, it seems. Congratulations. I¡¯ve heard from my sources that you¡¯ve been quite a thorn in the Council¡¯s side as of late.¡±

    Terry shifted his weight uncomfortably, wondering if perhaps Terraform disapproved. As if in answer to his unspoken question, the golem let out a tinkling, glassy laugh. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be embarrassed. I laud you for your rebellious nature. I never much liked most of the Council, though Tinker has sourced me with the occasional S-ranked artifact. On that note, I¡¯ve heard reports that you were able to escape from the man himself. You¡¯ll have to regale me with that tale after you¡¯ve concluded your business with Marlon.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing, Terraform.¡±

    ¡°Well, like I said, you¡¯re all welcome in my Market. You should hit the Pit in¡­about thirty seconds. To my Market natives,¡± he turned to look at Katie, Peter, Tristan, and Alan. ¡°Welcome back. And to the new face, I¡¯m sure your friends will be happy to give you a brief orientation of the Market. I¡¯d do it myself, but I¡¯m afraid I need to speak to Sol and Terry privately.¡±

    Tania nodded, crossing her arms. The golem turned towards Klein and put a glass hand on his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll take it from here, Klein. Thank you for your service.¡±

    Terry sensed Klein¡¯s aura relax, retracting into his body. The man¡¯s shoulders slumped with weariness, highlighting the contrast between what Vlad had been capable of and Klein¡¯s capacity.

    It wasn¡¯t long before the tunnel opened up into the Pit, the light from the lava below casting the large cavern in a yellow-orange haze.

    The platform split in two, seeming to corral Sol and Terry away from the others. Their platform arched toward the series of bridges cutting across the Pit, while Terry and Sol¡¯s platform turned toward Terraform¡¯s office. A strand of glass reached out from his floor-to-ceiling window, connecting to their platform. Behind the glass, Terry spotted the man himself lounging on his liquid stone chair.

    Terry waved, smiling at the older man, only to spot the frown on his face and a weariness to his posture.

    There was a weight to the man¡¯s expression that was unmissable.

    As they neared, the window parted like liquid, ferrying them into the office. Terraform stood from his chair, extending a hand toward Terry, then Sol.

    ¡°Good to see you again, Terry. And Sol, pleasure to meet you.¡±

    Sol shook his hand timidly, unable to meet the man¡¯s gaze. Terraform frowned at that, but quickly masked his expression, turning toward Terry.

    ¡°Thank you for meeting with me. I know you have pressing matters of your own.¡±

    Now, it was Terry¡¯s turn to frown.

    ¡°Of course, Terraform. We¡¯re guests in your home after all.¡±

    The S-ranker nodded absentmindedly, looking past them to survey the Pit.

    ¡°Funny you should mention that¡­¡± He walked around them, moving right to the edge of his office window. ¡°I¡¯m not sure for how much longer the Market will be my home.¡± He turned back, his face drawn tight.

    ¡°The Market¡¯s under attack¡­and I¡¯m not sure it¡¯s a fight I can win.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 5: Troubled Mind and Troubled Times

    Somewhere in East Topeka, a hundred feet underground, sat Tinker in his makeshift lair. When he had first been assigned to East Topeka over a year ago, he knew he had drawn the short stick. At his core, he was a scientist¡ªnot a fighter, a general, or even a leader. The thought of subjugating these people and vying for control of the city against the Emperor¡¯s forces turned his stomach. But he understood that this was the price he had to pay for his continued membership in the Council and all the resources they supplied for his many experiments.

    He also rationalized his involvement by telling himself that it was better for him to take on this responsibility than one of the more bloodthirsty members of the Council. With him at the helm, he might be in a position to minimize the loss of human life. All the same, his tenure in East Topeka had been rather dull. The SPC had rightfully instituted a ban on S-Rankers participating in the conflict. Since Tinker was a poor general, his role in the war had been mostly political. As a result, to fight the boredom and monotony, his makeshift lair had slowly evolved into a high-tech facility that nearly rivaled his lab in Kansas City.

    The command center featured wall-to-wall screens relaying dozens of drone feeds, requisition requests, and his own personal monitors for his new little obsession. As he lounged outside of his power armor, he watched as a section of those monitors followed the team that was currently in pursuit of the Chameleon. At their head was the A-ranker known as Bloodhound.

    Bloodhound had recently arrived in Topeka, personally requisitioned by Tinker himself. Initially, there had been no need for his particular set of skills in the war, and the Council had assigned him elsewhere. But earlier that morning, Tinker¡¯s prey had slipped the net, and publicly, too. Not only had Paragon witnessed his embarrassment, but so had the enemy. The loss of face was unacceptable. He needed to capture the Chameleon, and soon. So he had brought Bloodhound to Topeka, and damn what the Council thought. If they had any dissenting opinion, they were welcome to come and say it to his face.

    With Bloodhound on the hunt, it was only a matter of time until the Chameleon was cornered and captured. This was Bloodhound¡¯s specialty, after all. The man had awakened as a Seer, which gave him certain insights¡ªglimpses past the fabric of the physical world. But more importantly, at least in Tinker¡¯s mind, was that the man had transitioned to Duelist after his Midmark Quest and had focused all of his body tempering on his physical senses. His sense of smell was so acute that it even surpassed the level of devices that Tinker could fabricate. Bloodhound could pick apart the layers of smells, identifying targets from potentially miles away. The man could even describe their diets, recounting what they had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, ranging back for days.

    Right now, Tinker watched as Bloodhound narrowed in on his target. The man¡¯s voice came over the radio, carrying a New York lilt that was exotic in a place like Topeka. Tinker idly wondered what had brought the man from the East Coast to the Midwest. But a man¡¯s secrets were his own, and though Tinker had a scientific curiosity that ran bone-deep, it didn¡¯t extend to personal secrets¡ªenemy combatants notwithstanding.

    ¡°Boss, the scent¡¯s getting stronger. I think we¡¯re close.¡±

    ¡°Good work, Bloodhound,¡± Tinker replied. ¡°Fireteam, non-lethal ammunition. These may be foreign agents, but I want them alive.¡±

    ¡°Affirmative.¡±

    Tinker turned his attention to the drone camera flying over Bloodhound¡¯s shoulder. They were in a narrow hallway that extended fifty feet ahead before turning down a blind corner. They moved slowly, and Tinker had to tamp down the impatience trying to work a fidget into his leg. With a thought, one of his drones ranged ahead, peeking around the corner to give reconnaissance. His eyes narrowed in confusion at what he saw. His fireteam was tapped into the feed and saw the same thing.

    ¡°Dead end ahead, Bloodhound,¡± the fireteam leader said. ¡°Your nose finally fail you?¡±

    Bloodhound flashed the man the finger, the drone camera catching the movement. ¡°Fuck off, Seth. They were here. I did my job, now go do yours.¡±

    The fireteam leader gave his men a signal, and they ranged forward, taking the corner, their stunners at the ready. As they neared the dead end, one of the men spoke up. Their Stone Elementalist, Tinker realized, as the man¡¯s bio automatically populated on the screen.

    ¡°This wall¡¯s different from the rest,¡± the Elementalist said. ¡°Evidence that it¡¯s been shifted into place.¡±

    Tinker sent a command to the drone, switching it to x-ray vision. At first, it seemed like the wall was solid, but as he amplified the intensity, he realized that there was a hollow space past ten feet of solid stone.

    ¡°Confirmed,¡± Tinker said after a moment. ¡°Break it down.¡±

    The fireteam leader gave the affirmative, and the Stone Elementalist began to work on the wall. He was a D-ranker, so it took a minute for him to dissipate the ten feet of solid stone. When it finally fell, a broad hallway opened up past it. Tinker sent a swarm of five drones through, prepared to scan the interior with their lidar. When the report came back a minute later, he slammed his fist down on his desk.

    ¡°No signs of life,¡± he muttered. Into the radio, he said, ¡°It¡¯s clear. Bloodhound, go.¡±

    After thirty minutes of meticulous searching, the Elementalist finally found signs of a tunnel extending deeper into the earth.

    ¡°Seems they burrowed out, sir,¡± Bloodhound said.

    ¡°Should we set an ambush for their return?¡± the fireteam leader asked.

    ¡°No,¡± Tinker replied, already on his feet and heading towards his power armor. With a thought, the suit began walking towards him. He never missed a step as it wrapped around him seamlessly. ¡°I¡¯m on my way.¡±

    The fireteam leader cleared his throat. ¡°Sir, is that wise?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m on my way. We¡¯re not losing them. Be ready to follow their trail once I arrive.¡±

    The Elementalist spoke up on the radio. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m strong enough to follow their passage, sir.¡±

    Tinker switched off the connection and sighed in annoyance. There was one more option¡ªan option he had been desperately avoiding. But the Chameleon was so close he could practically sense the man. Switching the connection back on, he said, ¡°Stand by. I¡¯m going to fetch Lady. With her abilities, you¡¯ll be strong enough.¡±

    They didn¡¯t realize it, but he could see their physical reactions through the drone feeds. The team cast silent looks at each other, the fireteam leader raising his eyebrows at Bloodhound, who simply shrugged in response.

    ¡°Any of you who had dinner plans tonight, call the missus and cancel them,¡± Bloodhound said. ¡°We¡¯re going on the hunt.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Under attack?¡± Terry gasped, ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    At his side, it was impossible to miss Sol¡¯s flinch. The man¡¯s head whipped around, as if searching for hidden enemies in the office. Terraform glanced at Sol, his eyes narrowing briefly before answering Terry¡¯s question.

    ¡°Do you remember our good friend, Skipper?¡±

    Terry felt his stomach flip as the memories rushed back. The feeling of the Hypnotist co-opting his brain, the sound of her skull squelching out of the side of the stone helmet, the blood pooling across the floor, almost as if it were reaching for his shoes. He pushed the horror of that memory away, focusing back on the man¡¯s words.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Skipper¡¯s attacking the market? How? I know he¡¯s an S-ranker, but Travelers aren¡¯t exactly known for their combat abilities.¡±

    Terraform sighed, and Terry could hear the weight of the man¡¯s responsibilities in that sigh. He turned, sinking into his stone chair, his knuckles kneading the side of his temple.

    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised just how much mischief a Traveler could cause, and he has been keeping busy. But no, Skipper¡¯s not my only enemy. There are a few powerful individuals who have had their eye on me and the Market for some years now.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind was racing at a hundred miles a minute as he digested the subtext in that statement, but at his side, he realized Sol¡¯s breathing had elevated, turning into heaving gasps.

    ¡°Sol.¡± Terry reached a hand out for the man¡¯s shoulder.

    Sol flinched away, his eyes going wild. ¡°We should go, Terry. We should flee while we have the chance.¡±

    The S-ranker backed away frantically, angling towards the wall-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the pit, the very windows that Terraform had withdrawn just a minute prior.

    ¡°Sol,¡± Terry gasped, reaching out a hand. But before the panicked man could fall head over heels out the window, glass reached up from the floor, cupping his back lightly to keep him from tumbling off the edge.

    Sol whirled in a panic, his skin flashing. That was Terry¡¯s only warning before a light, brighter even than the sun, shot out from Sol¡¯s body. Terry cried out in pain as the light and heat hit his face. On instinct, he activated his Master of Light ability in a desperate attempt to funnel the blinding light and the burning heat away from him. But it was too much, his aura feeling drowned by the sheer power of Sol¡¯s panicked reaction. He stumbled away, one arm thrown over his face before the heat and light suddenly dissipated.

    Blearily, he blinked his eyes, keeping them narrowed in case another burst of light shot out towards him. Through his eyelashes, he saw light in his peripherals, still pulsing out, though it was bearable. In front of him, a wall of pure stone seemed to have grown from the earth, eclipsing the bulk of Sol¡¯s light. At his side, he realized Terraform was flexing his aura, fighting the light and heat. The two of them locked eyes, and Terry could see the unasked question in Terraform¡¯s gaze.

    Terry shrugged, afraid to say anything, knowing that Sol¡¯s superhuman hearing would pick it up. Instead, he typed out a System message:

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: He¡¯s fragile right now. He spent over a year in my grandfather¡¯s dungeons in the dark, powerless.

    </blockquote>

    As he typed out the message, the light dimmed, then faded entirely. Terraform nodded in answer as Sol¡¯s timid voice called out softly.

    ¡°T-Terry,¡± he stuttered. ¡°Terry, I¡¯m so sorry. Are you okay?¡±

    The stone wall slowly sank back into the earth, revealing a frazzled, nearly weeping Sol behind it. When his eyes locked on Terry, he let out a heavy sigh. Despite Terry¡¯s own message to Terraform, he warred within himself. A part of him understood that Sol had some form of PTSD, perhaps the trauma of his isolation and imprisonment turning him more into a creature of instinct. The other part of him, the emotional part, was fuming mad. Sol had nearly blinded him, or worse. He had to bite his tongue to keep from yelling at the fragile S-ranker.

    Sol took a step forward, his hand rising timidly, then faltering. ¡°Are¡­are you okay?¡±

    Terry sucked in a deep breath, holding it for a second, trying to calm his racing heart. As he exhaled, he closed his eyes, unable to look at the pathetic expression on Sol¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯m okay, Sol,¡± he said wearily. ¡°But that was close. You could have blinded me.¡±

    He heard the hitch in Sol¡¯s voice, the sound of the tears he was fighting back. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. I¡¯m no good for anything anymore. The mere mention of a fight and I lose all control.¡±

    Terry opened his eyes to see Sol¡¯s back, the man standing at the edge of the window looking out over the Pit. A dozen thoughts raced through his mind. Was Sol thinking of jumping? Could the lava even kill the man? Could I stop him if he did jump? Could Terraform? He glanced toward Terraform and saw the concern and empathy in the man¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Sol.¡± Terraform¡¯s voice was low, as if he were speaking to a spooked animal. ¡°Come away from the edge, please.¡±

    Sol was muttering under his breath. ¡°I¡¯m no good for anything. I¡¯m a danger to myself and others. I can¡¯t fight, I can¡¯t lead.¡± He glanced back towards Terry, tears sliding down his cheeks. ¡°I can¡¯t even be trusted around friends.¡±

    His body rocked at the edge of the window, as if some wind were shifting him back and forth. Terry sent another System message:

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: If he jumps, can you stop him?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terraform]: I can. The question is, should I?

    </blockquote>

    Terry whipped his head towards the man, narrowing his eyes in reproach. Terraform held up his hand in a placating gesture.

    <blockquote>

    [Terraform]: How would he react if I prevented his suicide? Would he fight back? Would he tear apart the market? Perhaps I save him only to have to put him down to save others.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: So you¡¯re just gonna watch him die?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terraform]: I hope it doesn¡¯t come to that. If he¡¯ll allow it, there are specialists in the market that can help him. Try and steer him towards that help.

    </blockquote>

    Terry felt the burden of that responsibility weighing heavily on his shoulders. Though he had seen and done much in the past two years, he was still just a boy, and his experience was a drop in the ocean compared to Terraform or Sol. Yet, Sol had become his friend, so he approached the man with a determined set to his lips. Slowly, he extended his hand, resting it on Sol¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°Sol, let us get you help.¡±

    His gaze flitted toward Terry, then back toward the Pit. His voice was a gravelly whisper, laden with defeat. ¡°What¡¯s the point, Terry? I¡¯ll never be what I once was.¡±

    Terry¡¯s grip tightened. ¡°And what about Topeka, Sol? Your city? Will you let the vultures pick it clean without you? Let it serve as a trophy in the war between my grandfather and the Council.¡±

    The briefest flash of fire lit in Sol¡¯s eyes. Quietly, he asked, ¡°What can I do?¡±

    Terraform stepped forward, his deep voice resonating in the office so that Terry felt it in his chest. ¡°Try. That¡¯s all we ask.¡±

    Sol gave a slight, barely noticeable nod. ¡°All right,¡± he whispered, as if surrendering to that idea, to the hope they were offering.

    ¡°I¡¯ll send for my best therapist,¡± Terraform offered.

    They stood there in solemn silence, and in less than a minute, a man appeared above the Pit, floating along a thick strand of crystalline glass. As he neared, Terraform approached Sol¡¯s side and Terry stepped back to give them space.

    Softly, almost so softly that Terry couldn¡¯t hear the words, Terraform spoke in Sol¡¯s ear. ¡°All moments are transitory. You are not this moment. Let Hunter help you, and I promise there will be a light at the end of the tunnel.¡±

    Sol¡¯s eyes met Terraform¡¯s with a searching glance. ¡°How can you make that promise?¡± he questioned, his voice barely above a whisper.

    Terraform shrugged, his smile bittersweet. ¡°Because I¡¯ve been there, and I came out the other end¡­eventually.¡±

    That fire flashed once more in Sol¡¯s eyes, just as the man named Hunter arrived. He stepped from the glass bridge, bowing low to Terraform.

    ¡°Terraform, sir?¡±

    Terraform turned to Sol. ¡°This is Sol. Please take care of him like he was one of our own.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Hunter replied with a grave nod. To Sol, he said, ¡°Please follow me, sir. My name is Hunter, and I¡¯m an A-ranked Hypnotist and trained psychologist, specializing in treating Awakened for 22 years.¡±

    Terraform gently guided Sol toward the back of the office as he spoke. ¡°You¡¯re in good hands, Sol.¡±

    A tunnel materialized in the wall, the stone seeming to melt away. Terraform handed Sol off to Hunter, who led him toward the tunnel. As they entered it, Sol cast a longing look back toward Terry, who forced a reassuring smile on his face and nodded. A moment later, the two figures vanished into the tunnel and it closed behind them, leaving Terry alone with the S-ranked Stone Elementalist.

    Silence filled the air for a moment, thick with unspoken words.

    Then, Terry broke that silence.

    ¡°I appreciate what you¡¯re doing for him, but as his friend, I don¡¯t want him used in whatever conflict faces the Market.¡±

    Terraform shook his head. ¡°No, I would never manipulate someone like that. I had hoped to enlist him in the Market¡¯s defense, but that ship has sailed,¡± he admitted, the weight of regret in his voice.

    Terry sensed there was more unsaid, and he prodded, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach.

    ¡°And¡­?¡±

    Terraform took a deep breath.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t just Sol I was looking to enlist.¡±

    Terry settled back on his heels, finally connecting the dots.

    ¡°I¡¯ve tried contacting Silver,¡± Terraform continued, ¡°but he hasn¡¯t responded. Do you know if I¡¯ve offended him in some way?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Terry said slowly, shaking his head. He paced toward the open window, gazing out over the bustling Market. Hundreds of people streamed to and fro across the glass bridges that crossed over the Pit. From this vantage point, he would have never guessed that the Market was on the brink of war. ¡°Silver¡¯s been out of contact for months. I don¡¯t know if he¡¯s alive or dead.¡±

    Terraform cursed under his breath. ¡°With him on the Market¡¯s side, Qui Shen would¡¯ve been forced to back down.¡±

    Terry whirled around in shock. ¡°Qui Shen?¡±

    Terraform nodded sadly, confirming Terry¡¯s worst fears. ¡°Yes, it seems Skipper and Qui Shen have cut a deal.¡±

    ¡°To what end? The market isn¡¯t anywhere near Asia. I know that much just from the travel time and direction.¡± Terry¡¯s mind raced with possibilities.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. It¡¯s not the location he wants. He doesn¡¯t even care about the Market as far as I can tell.¡± Terraform reached a hand into his shirt, clearly gripping some hidden item.

    No, Terry realized, not into his shirt, but into his chest.

    ¡°It¡¯s this he¡¯s after.¡±

    Terry gasped as the room filled with an intoxicating power that roiled off the item now clutched in his hands.

    He didn¡¯t know how he knew, but somehow he did¡­

    Terraform had a Singularity.

 B2 - Chapter 6: No Limits

    Terraform paced the dimly lit office, the ambient glow from the Singularity casting erratic shadows on the stone walls. He paused as Terry¡¯s voice cut through the silence.

    ¡°Which one is it?¡± His tone carried a mix of curiosity and trepidation, the weight of the Singularity seeming to press down on his shoulders. He knew Silver had the Material and Physical, while Qui Shen had the Elemental, and Dancer had the Presence and Mental¡ªaccording to his grandfather¡¯s. But the Metaphysical and the Spectral were unaccounted for.

    Terraform sighed deeply, his eyes flickering with an ethereal light as he glanced towards the small orb cradled in his hands. The power contained within the Singularity was palpable. Waves of energy roiled off the orb, sending intoxicating, tempting, and¡­terrifying pulses through the room. It was as if the very atmosphere vibrated with its presence, and Terry could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

    ¡°The Metaphysical,¡± Terraform replied, his voice softer now, laden with a combination of reverence and regret. ¡°It¡¯s been in my possession for fifteen years¡­but I¡¯ve never been able to digest it.¡± He cast a chagrined glance towards Terry, the lines on his face deepening. ¡°I had hoped to pick Silver¡¯s brain about his, but after Skipper¡¯s betrayal, it felt...dangerous to reveal.¡±

    Terry¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°You thought he¡¯d steal it?¡±

    Terraform looked away, his gaze distant as if he were searching for the right words among memories long buried. ¡°I thought the temptation for reprisal would be strong. Factor in one of the most powerful objects in the world and one of the few men capable of taking it from me.¡± He shrugged, a motion that seemed to encompass all the weight of his decisions. ¡°I wanted to get his measure first.¡±

    Terry moved to the stone desk and leaned against it, his eyes narrowing with thought. ¡°And you¡¯re telling me why? I already told you I haven¡¯t talked to Silver in months.¡±

    Terraform strode to the edge of the room, pausing by the open window. The view of the sprawling Pit lay beneath him, a hive of activity. His voice dropped to a low, worried timbre. ¡°How much do you know about Qui Shen?¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind worked overtime trying to follow the change in subject. After a moment, he shrugged. ¡°Just what¡¯s on HeroWatch¡­¡±

    A shudder rippled through Terraform, his back straightening as if icy fingers had traced up his spine. ¡°There¡¯s so much more to that man than what¡¯s on a wiki.¡± He turned back to Terry, genuine fear glimmering in his eyes. ¡°In Asia, he¡¯s called the Incinerator. Because he burns his prisoners alive. Slowly¡­¡± Terraform shook his head softly, the magic sparking in his eyes a wild and dangerous thing. ¡°And not just other Awakened. Families, children¡­¡± His fists clenched briefly before he forced them to relax. ¡°He¡¯s the worst kind of super. He cannot be allowed to assimilate another Singularity.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes narrowed, his mind grappling with the gravity of Terraform¡¯s words. ¡°You still haven¡¯t answered my question¡­¡±

    Terraform chewed his lip. Finally, with a resigned sigh, Terraform shoved the Singularity back into his chest. The object seemed to slide past flesh and bone with an unsettling ease, merging once more with his body. ¡°If worst comes to worst, I had hoped to give it to Sol. Or Silver, if he was alive.¡± He shook his head, his expression grim. ¡°But with Sol¡¯s mental state¡­¡± His expression flipped, a smile forcing itself onto his face. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m telling you this, Terry. There¡¯s no S-rankers in the Market besides Sol, so most aren¡¯t even aware of the Singularity¡¯s existence. I suppose¡­¡± He chuckled humorlessly. ¡°I suppose I just needed to share my burden with someone.¡±

    Terry stepped forward, the respect he held for Terraform warring with the responsibility he felt for his own Quests and the people under his charge.

    ¡°You¡¯ve done so much for me, Terraform, and I know the scale between us is unbalanced. I don¡¯t mean to sound ungrateful, but I have my own war I¡¯m fighting back on the surface.¡±

    Terraform nodded, a sad smile on his face. ¡°I understand, Terry. At the end of the day, we¡¯re all slaves to those creatures pulling our strings.¡±

    Before Terry could respond, Terraform strode back to his liquid stone chair, settling his feet beneath his desk. ¡°Don¡¯t let me keep you any longer, Terry. I know you¡¯ve been waiting for another session with Marlon for a while.¡±

    ¡°Terraform¡­¡± Terry started to say, but the man glanced back, waving a hand casually.

    ¡°Please, Terry. Think nothing of it. I shouldn¡¯t have burdened you with this to begin with. I mean no offense, but this isn¡¯t the domain of a D-ranker. I still have friends on the surface. The Market isn¡¯t lost. Not yet. Not while I still breathe.¡±

    A bridge of crystalline glass formed from the window, and Terraform turned his back to Terry, as clear a dismissal as he had ever seen. Terry hesitated at the edge of the window, wondering if there was more he could offer, more he could say, but the man was right. He was just a D-ranker, and though he had close ties with multiple S-rankers, the only one he could truly call upon had been one stiff breeze from throwing himself into a pit of lava.

    Terry couldn¡¯t think of the words he wanted to say, so he simply strode onto the glass platform. It ferried him down to the bridges below, and as he glanced back towards Terraform¡¯s office, instead of the glass window he expected, a stone wall rose up, obscuring view into the man¡¯s office entirely. He didn¡¯t know why, but he couldn¡¯t help but feel like he had let a friend down in some way. Terraform had confided in him, shared the anxiety and weight of responsibility of running the Market. Maybe the man had just been looking for a sympathetic ear, and Terry had shut him down.

    No, he was being foolish. He was a D-ranker, just as Terraform had said, and he had his own Quest to worry about. His resolve hardened as he thought about his upcoming meeting with Marlon. He needed to unlock his Midmark Quest. He needed to get stronger as fast as he could. He wasn¡¯t strong enough to make a difference in the coming fight between Qui Shen and Terraform, but he would get stronger. And in order to do that, he needed to meet with Marlon. Especially if the Market was on the brink of invasion.

    As Terry stepped from Terraform¡¯s glass platform onto the nearest bridge over the Pit, he couldn¡¯t help but notice a particular air that had settled over the market. The other times he had been here, the pedestrian traffic had been just as bustling, but with an upbeat mood to it¡ªcasual displays of magic, superhuman strength and speed, the sounds of laughter. But now, the mood was somber, subdued. The people coming to and fro hurried with a sense of purpose that bordered on panic. There were no overt signs of a coming invasion, but it was obvious that Qui Shen¡¯s arrival was no secret.

    Terry wondered if they were preparing to fight or flee. As he neared the alley that led to Marlon¡¯s shop, he spotted a sign in all caps:

    SERVICE FOR OFFER: ONE-WAY PORTAL INTO THE PIT

    He chuckled to himself¡ªat least some things never changed. Rather than announce his presence, he parted space with the flex of his aura, opening a portal into Marlon¡¯s shop.

    The man was right where Terry expected, working his pottery wheel as if he¡¯d been waiting in the same spot all the months they had been apart. Marlon didn¡¯t even glance up when Terry¡¯s portal materialized. As he stepped through, appearing inside the shop, Marlon simply grunted in greeting.

    ¡°Good to see you too, Marlon,¡± Terry said with a wry smile.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°If it¡¯s not in the Ds, I¡¯m sending you straight to the Pit,¡± the man barked.

    Terry felt his pride stir and a smile formed on his lips.

    ¡°It¡¯s in the Ds. And I created my own Skill.¡±

    Marlon¡¯s foot stopped pumping the pottery wheel and he stood without a word. Terry was so taken aback by the sudden movement, he retreated a few steps. Without even a glance up, Marlon snagged a towel from the back of his chair and began wiping his hands clean.

    When he was done, he finally looked up.

    ¡°Bout damn time. Now, the real learning begins.¡±

    Excitement gripped him, butterflies forming as the hairs on his arms stood up. What could a master like Marlon teach when he was actually engaged?

    A portal snapped open in front of Terry and he couldn¡¯t help but marvel at how effortlessly Marlon manipulated space. The second wicker chair he stored in the closet materialized through the portal, settling before Terry¡¯s feet. Marlon shifted his chair until it was right in front of the other so that they¡¯d be face to face.

    Terry took a seat expecting Marlon to do the same. Instead, the man looked up toward the rafters, his eyes seeming to track the cats that dominated that space. Seconds passed where Marlon didn¡¯t say anything, simply stared up toward the ceiling, as if waiting for some signal.

    Then, a small portal cut through the air in time with the leap of a cat. The cat let out a piteous meow as its trajectory was intercepted by the portal, only to find itself suddenly in Marlon¡¯s arms. It whipped around in a panic for a moment, before Marlon¡¯s hand on its back settled it.

    He came back to the chair, easing himself into it as his hand continued to stroke the cat¡¯s back.

    ¡°What do you know about aura?¡±

    Terry was so thrown off by the odd way with which Marlon had corralled the cat, it took him a moment to process the question.

    ¡°Uh, sorry? Aura?¡± He had to forcibly bring his thoughts back on track, the pressure of Marlon¡¯s uncompromising gaze and terse tone slowing his mind. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­well, I know it¡¯s integral to our magic. Our System helps shape it for us when we activate our abilities. And I know we can alter it to create new Skills¡­¡±

    He trailed off as Marlon frowned.

    ¡°Chicken or the egg?¡± the man asked, his hand continuing to stroke the cat absentmindedly.

    Terry narrowed his eyes. ¡°Sorry?¡±

    ¡°Which came first?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­I don¡¯t know.¡± Marlon¡¯s unrelenting gaze compelled him to answer, though he knew the question was generally considered rhetorical. ¡°If I had to guess, the chicken¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡± he barked. ¡°Which came first, the System or your aura!¡± He shook his head with a disappointed frown. ¡°Are you familiar with subtext, Tammy?¡±

    Terry sighed at the man¡¯s intractable nature. Marlon only called him other names when he was annoyed. He forced in a deep breath and turned his mind back to the question.

    The answer was pretty obvious once he gave it some thought.

    ¡°Aura,¡± he replied definitively.

    Rather than praise the answer, Marlon grunted as if he were annoyed.

    ¡°Why do you say that?¡±

    ¡°Because I had aura before I Awakened. And there¡¯s plenty of non-Awakened who can express or manipulate aura.¡±

    ¡°How do you know that¡¯s not a function of the System, hm? Perhaps the Call flooded our world with aura? You¡¯ve built a theory off a flawed premise. Do better.¡±

    Terry felt the blood rush to his face, his skin prickling with a spike of adrenaline. He hated this rhetorical game. Why couldn¡¯t Marlon ever just give me a straight answer! Why couldn¡¯t he simply teach rather than browbeat me into submission?

    No, he cut off that line of thinking immediately. This was too important to let his ego get in the way. For what felt like the fifth time, he forced in calming breaths and turned his mind fully to the exercise¡ªbecause that¡¯s clearly what this was, a mental exercise to drive him to a certain realization.

    He considered everything he knew about aura. It was something that existed in non-Awakened, he knew that for certain. Not only had he been able to manipulate his own aura years before he Awakened, but he¡¯d also been able to sense others. All the undead he¡¯d ever come across were also adept at manipulating aura¡ªthe sanguine, ghouls, draugrs, patches. More than that, it was integral to their communication, something that had clearly developed over centuries, if not longer, which spoke to an entire history surrounding the existence of aura.

    Another factor he considered was that the Systems didn¡¯t seem to augment their Awakened¡¯s aura or physicality. Rather, the Body Tempering and other enhancement Skills simply coordinated aura in a specific way to foster those enhancements. Even his Presence Attributes weren¡¯t as simple as points he could assign, but rather were indicators of his development accomplished solely through hard work and practice.

    All those points served as evidence towards his theory, but the reality was, his instinct was the strongest indicator¡ªat least in his own mind. Somehow, he could feel the truth¡ªaura was an intrinsic component to the universe, something that ebbed and flowed all around him. And he knew that though it could be manipulated, shifted, even co-opted, it wasn¡¯t a new phenomenon brought about by the Call. It had a heft to it in his senses, a feeling of timelessness, antiquity, that he just felt.

    These thoughts flashed in his mind in an instant and he considered the different ways to explain how he knew. But ultimately, he suspected Marlon would find ways to pick any premise apart.

    ¡°I can say confidently that aura came first. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re trying to drive me toward that answer in a certain way.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But I just know it. I feel it in my bones.¡±

    Marlon pursed his lips, clearly annoyed that Terry had sidestepped with his answer. But after a moment, he nodded begrudgingly.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, though your explanation relies upon a bedrock of fallacies.¡± He nodded toward the cat held in his lap. ¡°Can you sense Marmalade¡¯s aura?¡±

    Marmalade¡­? Terry very purposefully didn¡¯t say out loud, though the questionable name itched at him.

    He knew instinctively that the answer would be yes. All living things had pinged against his aura sense in his experience. But he knew Marlon wouldn¡¯t accept an instinctual response. Instead, he reached out with his senses, feeling the aura around him. There was that ever present river¡ªas he¡¯d come to think of it¡ªcoursing around not only him, but the objects and creatures in the room. As he focused his senses, he saw Marmalade in that river.

    And reared back in utter shock.

    The cat¡¯s aura was¡­off. Something had been altered, shifted around to create little nodules that appeared unnatural in comparison to all the other animals he had observed.

    ¡°What¡­what am I seeing?¡± he breathed.

    ¡°I¡¯ve augmented his aura, see? I¡¯ve augmented all of their auras.¡±

    Terry looked up in confusion before realizing what the man meant. His eyes tracked higher and he let his senses range into the rafters. Even from this distance, he knew immediately what the man had meant.

    Every single cat¡ªeven the litter of kittens mewing in a makeshift hammock¡ªhad unusual growths on their auras.

    Marlon¡¯s voice brought his attention back.

    ¡°Don¡¯t fret, they¡¯re perfectly fine. I would never experiment on my babies if I weren¡¯t sure of the results.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mouth gaped open for a moment before he recovered.

    ¡°To what end? What do the¡­modifications accomplish?¡±

    Marlon looked up, tracking the cats above.

    ¡°Various things,¡± he replied with an absentminded tone. ¡°Some, I¡¯ve given tags that my System recognizes. Others, the anti-fall enchantment I¡¯ve been working on.¡± He frowned at that. ¡°They don¡¯t particularly like those, so I deactivated them for now.¡±

    ¡°But¡­but you¡¯re a Traveler. How¡ª?¡±

    ¡°Who says what I can and can¡¯t do with aura, hm? The limitations of these so called Systems are arbitrary. Haven¡¯t you learned anything from me?¡±

    With barely any help from you, he wanted to say. He decided to keep that to himself.

    ¡°You¡¯re saying¡­a Traveler can work items like an Artificer or learn to manipulate elements like an Elementalist or¡ª¡°

    ¡°I¡¯m saying, don¡¯t limit yourself by what they tell you. A damn copycat of all people should understand there are no limits to what we can do with our auras!¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind churned, a million thoughts competing for his attention. It made sense, was almost blatantly obvious now that he thought about it.

    Marlon¡¯s voice dipped low, a solemn note to his tone.

    ¡°The System is a crutch, a handicap, a¡­stencil. Learn to be an artist, not a paint by numbers hack. If you want things handed to you, stay within the bound of what your System offers you.¡±

    He leaned in, his magic flaring in his eyes for the first time that Terry could remember.

    ¡°But if you want to unlock the possibilities of the universe, you need to think outside the box. Create, destroy, experiment, adapt¡­¡± He leaned back, his hand encompassing the cats and pottery around them. ¡°This room may look like a pig¡¯s sty. But everything in here represents my life¡¯s work. A treasure trove of data¡­for those with the patience to unlock its secrets.¡±

    Marlon¡¯s aura reached out¡ªa small, fine tendril¡ªthat touched a particular spot on Marmalade¡¯s back. Terry sat forward, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he focused on what that tendril was doing. It touched a spot on the cat¡¯s aura, applied a small bit of ephemeral power, and Marmalade¡¯s entire aura shifted into a new configuration.

    Terry was too slow to spot the exact changes before Marlon released the cat. It bounded from his lap, a shiver tracing up its arched back. Then it leapt into the air¡­

    ¡­and disappeared from Terry¡¯s sight.

    But not from his senses. He tracked its passage with wide eyes as it appeared across the shop, high up in the rafters.

    He turned back to Marlon, his mouth gaping open in utter shock.

    ¡°Did¡­did that cat just teleport?¡±

    He wouldn¡¯t have believed it if there were any other solution. But Marlon¡¯s aura had remained inert during the entire exchange, only flexing to change the cat¡¯s aura in that brief instant. There was no other way to say it, that cat had teleported seemingly on its own.

    As for Marlon, he arched a single brow, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

    ¡°Limitations are arbitrary, Terry. And the possibilities¡­endless.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 7: To Hitting Walls

    There was a fire in Marlon¡¯s eyes that he had never noticed before, a passion that mirrored the genius Terry had come to associate with the man.

    ¡°How¡¯d you figure any of this out?¡± He couldn¡¯t imagine the sheer level of trial and error that must have been involved in reaching this point. A million pieces of seemingly useless pottery was probably just the tip of the iceberg, he mused.

    Marlon narrowed his eyes, thoughtfully observing Terry for a moment, as if appraising him. He clicked his teeth and shrugged.

    ¡°I was guided along my path, same as you, I imagine.¡±

    ¡°A mentor?¡± Terry asked.

    Marlon snorted derisively. ¡°Hardly. I¡¯m talkin¡¯ about Quests, boy.¡± His eyes flicked in a strange pattern, one Terry had come to associate with dismissing a System notification.

    ¡°Tempting fate a bit there, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Screw the Systems.¡± His words were harsh, but his tone light, more in line with a subtle ribbing between friends. ¡°Always tellin¡¯ us what we can and can¡¯t say. What we should or shouldn¡¯t do. Mine¡¯s been trying to force me out of my shop for years.¡± His eyes flicked again in that familiar pattern and Terry felt his skin flush in response.

    He didn¡¯t know what Marlon¡¯s System would do if he pushed the line, but his own mother had been assigned a Quest to kill his father after a relatively small slip of the tongue. She¡¯d been forced to endure agonizing pain after refusing. Agonizing enough to stage her own murder and resurrection.

    ¡°Are you sure you should be antagonizing your System like that?¡± Though he hesitated to question Marlon, the consequences of defiance had proved to be life altering.

    He grunted. ¡°My System knows better than to mess with me. I¡¯ll dig in and rewire my code if it were to try.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide at the offhand statement.

    ¡°Rewire? You mean like¡­remove the System entirely?¡±

    Marlon¡¯s eyes hardened. ¡°Why not?¡± he barked. ¡°Didn¡¯t I just tell you, limits are arbitrary.¡± He looked up with steel in his eyes, as if defying the heavens itself. ¡°I only tolerate it for convenience.¡±

    Terry settled back on his heels, feeling the paradigm he had come to know rocked by those simple statements.

    His mother¡¯s entire existence had been cut short by the pain inflicted by her System. That damned being that had given her a Quest to murder her own husband. And for what?

    ¡°My mother was given a Quest,¡± he said softly.

    Marlon tilted his head.

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    Terry felt his throat tighten, forced to confront the pain he had buried. Knowing the truth had been one thing, but dealing with it had been entirely another. He¡¯d thrown himself into Topeka, dealing with evading capture, raids on supply depots, navigating the Black Wall. At the time, he¡¯d convinced himself he was too busy to address the emotions of the memories within the roses.

    But the truth was, he had simply been avoiding the pain.

    ¡°My parents are Awakened.¡± He looked up to see the confusion drift away in Marlon¡¯s eyes. ¡°My mother found out my father worked for a different Waker.¡± He spat the word, feeling his unresolved anger toward her System rising from some place deep inside him. ¡°It gave her a Quest to kill him. When she refused, it tortured her¡­¡± He trailed off, afraid to tell Marlon the rest, worried he might cry in front of the man.

    Marlon pursed his lips, a thoughtful expression on his face.

    ¡°She was high ranking, then?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Why?¡±

    He nodded as if that answered everything.

    ¡°The Systems are parasites, Terry. Digging their claws in with every rank up. Why¡¯d you think I never advanced past D-rank? Lack of talent?¡±

    ¡°Just thought you were afraid to leave your shop,¡± Terry muttered.

    Marlon scoffed, then canted his head. ¡°Well, there¡¯s that.¡± He waved dismissively. ¡°But that¡¯s ¡®sides the point. If I wanted, I¡¯d be an S-ranker by now.¡±

    ¡°So¡­you¡¯re saying there¡¯s an unwritten pact between Wakers and their Awakened? More power leads to more control?¡±

    Terry felt uneasy at the question, wondered if it was as black and white as all that, or if Marlon was perhaps a bit jaded.

    Marlon sighed. ¡°We¡¯re getting off track, boy.¡± He wrinkled his nose as if reluctant to continue. ¡°But fine, I¡¯ll give you the short of it so we can move on. You say pact, I say trickery. What sort of pact necessitates so much secrecy that even the stipulations are unspoken? Did you know that choosing to Awaken opens the door for your Waker to claim a stake on you? That completing your Quests gives tacit approval for your System to seep tighter into your being? I don¡¯t mean on an intellectual level. I mean on a spiritual level.¡±

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    He considered that question carefully, avoiding a knee-jerk response. Had I known that, even intuitively?

    He supposed he had, in a way. When he¡¯d first Awakened, his System had given him a choice. He could have said no to the power, no to the game that outstripped his importance¡ªeven the importance of his world. The Weaver, as it had called itself, had been straightforward in one regard.

    There is a war, not only for Earth, but for all the rest, too. It had said as much.

    Power and agency had been too tempting for him to say no to what was offered. Of course, he knew now that agency was a nebulous concept when taking the Systems into account. But had he possessed any real agency before, as a prince to an Awakened¡¯s kingdom?

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say I knew,¡± he eventually replied. ¡°But I¡¯m not sure saying no was an option¡ªnot for me.¡±

    Marlon snorted, shaking his head.

    ¡°I would¡¯ve. If I knew what I knew now, I¡¯d have told my System to shove it where the sun don¡¯t shine.¡± He let out a heavy breath, his eyes drifting to the floor, giving the intractable man¡¯s face a softer edge. ¡°Never mind all that. Not trying to make you feel any type of way. And I¡¯m sorry to hear about your mom. Guess my point was, you gonna make a choice, should know the fine print, s¡¯all.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate that, Marlon. Looking back, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d change a thing. When my System made the offer, it told me I¡¯d be able to accomplish a lot of good¡ª¡± A familiar notification pinged in his vision, but he ignored it, emboldened by Marlon¡¯s own rebellious streak. ¡°That¡¯s worth inviting whatever this thing is in for a front row seat, in my estimation.¡±

    Marlon turned away to face the rows of pottery, his eyes unfocused, lost in thought.

    Terry shifted his weight, feeling an awkward silence begin to form. He broke that silence by changing the subject.

    ¡°Why do you do this?¡± He waved to encompass the pottery, the cats above, and the entire shop. ¡°Why go to all this effort? For pottery that won¡¯t shatter? To give your cats System tags and¡ªadmittedly awesome¡ªteleport abilities?¡±

    Marlon flinched, surprising Terry.

    ¡°Fight the boredom off, suppose,¡± he replied a bit too quickly.

    Terry wondered why he was deflecting. He considered leaving it, but found himself too curious not to push.

    ¡°C¡¯mon, Marlon. There¡¯s more to it than that. I can feel it.¡±

    Marlon¡¯s head whipped around, a snarl forming on his lips. Terry¡¯s eyes widened and he took an unconscious step back.

    But just as quick as the anger appeared, it seemed to drain away.

    A tense moment passed before Marlon opened his mouth.

    ¡°I had a wife once.¡± His voice was barely above a whisper. ¡°And a¡­daughter.¡±

    Terry felt the back of his neck heat up, a mortified feeling churning inside his chest.

    ¡°Marlon, I¡¯m so sorry¡­¡± He trailed off as the man shook his head.

    ¡°No, I¡­I don¡¯t mind.¡± He glanced up, just a brief flick of his eyes before they cut back to the floor. ¡°Haven¡¯t spoken about them in years. Feels good.¡± His voice hitched and he cleared his throat. ¡°Twenty years gone now.¡± He shook his head in disbelief. ¡°Twenty years¡­¡±

    Marlon¡¯s eyes glazed over as if lost in thought. Terry took a gamble and broke the forming silence.

    ¡°What happened?¡± he asked quietly.

    The man blinked as if awakening, glancing up toward Terry in surprise. Then, his eyes cleared and he seemed to come back to himself.

    ¡°Car accident. Nobody¡¯s fault. Just a fluke accident. Some reason, that made it worse. Drunk driver would¡¯ve given me someone to hate. Super collateral, I could¡¯ve got revenge. But a tire popping, sending the car soaring off a bridge? No one to hate or blame there.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes widened as he connected the dots. Marlon was obsessed with anti-fall pottery because of the way his family had died; had given his cat the ability to teleport in a way that would have saved his own family. It all made a tragic sort of sense, when he thought about it.

    ¡°Went on the bender of all benders. Terraform pulled me up from a puddle of my own shit and piss, told me of an idea to create a little utopia underground.¡± Marlon flashed a wry smile, forced as it was. ¡°No cars here, see.¡± Then he tilted his head as if in realization. ¡°Lots of bridges though.¡± He snorted humorlessly. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m sure he thought I¡¯d develop into some sort of partner. Or at least someone of use. Instead¡­¡± He held his hands out wide, encompassing the shop. ¡°Just a useless recluse, tinkering with clay and far too many felines.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not useless, Marlon. The implications of your experiments are groundbreaking.¡± Terry nodded toward the rafters. ¡°I mean, come on! You made your cat a Traveler!¡±

    He shook his head sadly.

    ¡°No, Terry. I¡¯ve wasted these twenty years.¡± He waved a hand to encompass the shop. ¡°None of it works without me, see? Marmalade pulls on my aura when he teleports. The pots need me nearby to function.¡± He split space without a flicker of movement and a vase dropped into his hands. ¡°My life has been a waste.¡± He threw the vase away. Terry¡¯s senses were sharper than ever and he felt the slight connection between man and pottery. Then, he felt Marlon reject the pull, sever the connection.

    The vase shattered, littering the floor with a thousand pieces of ceramic.

    The shock of that sound rooted Terry in place and he struggled to think. What could he say to bring the man back from his melancholy?

    Moments passed and Terry felt powerless in the face of Marlon¡¯s mood. For some reason, he couldn¡¯t think of the words he needed. After the silence grew too heavy, Marlon¡¯s wicker chair creaked and he stood up. He walked toward the closet, pulling free a broom and dustpan. Any other time, Terry would have been shocked to see the man physically grab for something, rather than directly portal it into his hands.

    But now¡­all he could do was watch in shocked silence as Marlon began to sweep.

    ¡°Let¡¯s take a break,¡± Marlon said softly without looking up from his task. ¡°Sorry, I know you came for a reason but¡­I just need to be alone for a bit.¡±

    Terry nodded, feeling tumbled like a leaf in the wind before Marlon¡¯s past. He had felt like he understood loss, but the weight of losing your entire life in an accident pulled at Terry¡¯s heart. Working for the next couple of decades to prevent it from ever happening again, only to hit a wall¡­that was a tragedy Terry couldn¡¯t imagine.

    ¡°Sure thing, Marlon. Just¡­let me know when¡­¡±

    He couldn¡¯t find the right words, but Marlon simply waved in reply before turning back to the broken pottery.

    Terry cut a portal through space, appearing outside the shop a moment later. He glanced around the alley, feeling lost for some reason. Then, a familiar cat leaped from the shop door, stopping in front of Terry¡¯s ankles, rubbing itself against his skin.

    He reached down, a smile forming.

    ¡°Hey, Marmalade.¡± He scratched the cat¡¯s back and it purred against his hand. ¡°I think Marlon needs you more than me.¡±

    A thought struck him suddenly and he activated his Aura Snapshot ability, capturing the mold of Marmalade¡¯s aura in an instant.

    The cat gave one more purr, then disappeared with a flash of aura. Terry examined the space the cat had been a moment earlier, marveling at how effortlessly it teleported.

    He resolved to figure out that trick, even if Marlon considered it a dead end.

    But first, he wanted to link up with his friends. He needed to do something to get his mind off of things and he knew Katie and Peter were Market natives. They¡¯d know all the fun things to do in the Market.

 B2 - Chapter 8: Awakening

    Marlon Ockers wove his considerable bulk through the labyrinth of shelves. It wasn¡¯t pretty, it wasn¡¯t agile, but he eventually made it to the front of his shop.

    More than a few tugs on his aura were indicative of his passage, vases and mugs and pots knocked down by his gut, then returned to their rightful positions through small portals.

    Small tugs, minor, easily ignored.

    His feet carried him right to the edge of the door, in front of the familiar threshold he hadn¡¯t crossed in decades. He swayed there, his head feeling light as he considered the alleyway beyond.

    With his senses, he tracked the boy further down the street, a conflicted feeling lodged in his mind.

    On the one hand, he enjoyed watching the kid awaken to the possibilities of his aura; this wasn¡¯t something he¡¯d ever considered teaching to others. And he had to admit, the lad had a knack for it.

    On the other hand, he¡¯d somehow found a way to pry back the layers calcified over Marlon¡¯s past; dredged up pain and hurt that he hadn¡¯t felt in years. Like an old scab getting caught on an edge, ripped back, exposed and bleeding.

    The feeling was unwelcome.

    His System nudged him at that moment. It did that every few years, when he was feeling particularly melancholic. It sensed his vulnerability and tried to whittle away at his resolve.

    Midmark Quest Given: [Leave the Shop]

    Simply leave your shop.

    Reward: C-rank

    ¡°Don¡¯t make me cut you out,¡± he grunted. But his heart wasn¡¯t in it. His System had good intentions and wasn¡¯t too annoying in the grand scheme of things.

    As if making his point, the notification dismissed on its own. He could¡¯ve sworn he felt a disappointed sensation as it did so. The System equivalent of puppy eyes.

    He ignored it, furling his nose at the smell of the alleyway beyond his doorway. It smelled fresh, clean; circulated by the Air Elementalists who kept the air breathable and at a tolerant temperature.

    He retreated back into his shop, the comforting mixture of cat and wet clay wrapping him in a familiar blanket of sensations.

    The inkling that had taken him, that little fancy to see the rest of the Market, dissipated as he meandered his way back through the shelving.

    No, this was his home. He didn¡¯t see any need, nor did he have any desire, to advance in rank or explore the Market.

    He had his cats and his experiments. And that was enough.

    <hr>

    Terry waited just past Marlon¡¯s alley for the others to find him. He¡¯d suggested they give directions at first, but Katie had indicated that the Market was difficult to navigate.

    As he waited, he examined Marmalade¡¯s aura snapshot. Already, he felt like he was identifying sections that seemed off, manipulated in some fashion. Actually understanding the purpose of each altered section was a different matter entirely.

    But progress was progress.

    It was only ten minutes of waiting later when he spotted Peter¡¯s head above the crowd. A moment later, Katie and Tania came into sight, leading the group toward Terry. He was a bit surprised to find the whole gang present¡ªexcluding Sol, who must have been in his therapy session still.

    When they spotted him, Katie looked back toward Peter and lightly slapped his arm.

    ¡°Told you!¡±

    Terry tilted his head, a smile forming at the sight of them.

    ¡°What?¡±

    Peter shrugged toward Katie, who turned back with a twinkle in her eye. He hadn¡¯t seen her this full of energy in the year he had known her. Something about returning home had inspired her with a youthful energy.

    ¡°Your directions,¡± Katie said. ¡°I told Peter you were at Midmark Marlon¡¯s, but he didn¡¯t believe me.¡±

    Terry arched a brow.

    ¡°Midmark Marlon?¡±

    Katie flushed, an embarrassed look on her face. ¡°It¡¯s pretty common knowledge he¡¯s been stuck at D-rank for twenty years. Market¡¯s a small place and everyone gets in everyone¡¯s business one way or another.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of everyone¡¯s business.¡± Alan had a confusing expression on his face¡ªalmost mischievous. ¡°You gonna tell him?¡±

    He directed that at Tania, who shifted uncomfortably.

    Terry looked between the five of them in confusion. ¡°Tell me what?¡±

    The others were staring at Tania, though she seemed reluctant to say. Then, she caved under the pressure of their gazes.

    ¡°We¡­we booked a professional Awakening service. I¡¯m going to try things the Market¡¯s way,¡± Tania finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

    Terry blinked. ¡°That¡¯s... that¡¯s great, Tania.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she muttered, looking at the ground. ¡°I hope so.¡±

    For a moment, he couldn¡¯t understand the contrast between the news and her mood. But then he realized that she was afraid, worried she would fail again.

    Katie stepped up, putting a comforting arm around Tania¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s going to be fine. We¡¯ve got it down to a science in the Market. None of that barbaric crap they do above¡ª¡± She turned to Terry. ¡°¡ªNo offense.¡±

    He waved it away. Remembering back to his own Awakening, he couldn¡¯t blame her¡ªit had been a pretty terrible introduction to becoming Awakened.

    Katie led the way as they meandered through the Services sector. It was a cacophony of sound and overwhelming sights as they moved deeper. And he couldn¡¯t help but notice the strange juxtaposition of modern technology and homemade decorations. On one side of the street, he spotted a stall with colorful cloth draping along four wooden poles anchored into the ground. And on the other, a flashing holographic sign pulled at his attention. He might have assumed the disparity in decorations were due to income inequality, but the cloth stall advertised expensive B-rank Artifacts, while the fancy looking shop was a simple bed and breakfast establishment.

    It spoke more of an eccentricity than a culture of haves and have-nots, which he appreciated.

    As they strode deeper into the sector, Terry couldn¡¯t help but notice Tania¡¯s energy. Her aura was erratic, shifting wildly to his senses. But more than that, she seemed jittery, on edge, constantly glancing around at every vendor hawking their wares or passerby brushing against her in passing.

    He reached out and gripped her shoulder gently. She flinched, then scowled¡ªmore at her own overreaction than at the touch, he figured.

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    ¡°You¡¯re gonna be fine, Titania.¡±

    She swatted at him and he dodged neatly out of the way. He¡¯d found that her full name always snapped her out of whatever funk she had slipped into.

    ¡°You¡¯re so annoying.¡± She smiled to soften the blow, but it drained away quickly. Her voice lowered so only he could hear. ¡°What if it doesn¡¯t work?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s gonna work.¡±

    ¡°But what if it doesn¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s gonna work.¡± He hardened his gaze, doing his best to inject his confidence into her. ¡°The Wichitan way wasn¡¯t for you. Not even sure it was good for me. I was just so damned pissed off at my father, I pushed through out of sheer spite.¡±

    She snorted, peering at him with a side eye.

    ¡°If all it took was spite, I¡¯d have Awakened ten years ago.¡±

    He laughed, nodding along. ¡°You could say that again.¡±

    Her eyes widened in mock outrage. ¡°Don¡¯t agree with me, ass!¡± She tried for another swat, but he bounced away, hiding behind Tristan who cried out in surprise as a vengeful Tania tried to reach around Terry¡¯s body shield.

    ¡°We¡¯re here!¡± Katie, who had been leading the group, called out.

    Tania¡¯s expression dropped instantly, the anxiety rising back to the surface.

    ¡°Let¡¯s¡­let¡¯s reschedule. Maybe tomorrow or¡ª¡±

    Katie looped her arm around Tania¡¯s and physically dragged her into the shop.

    ¡°Too late!¡± she said cheerfully. ¡°Non-refundable deposit!¡±

    Tania grumbled under her breath but otherwise let Katie lead her inside.

    The others crowded in behind, and Terry found himself pressed tight into a small waiting room. There were two chairs along one wall and a small woman behind a counter on the other wall. She wore multiple pieces of jewelry on every limb, bracelets jingling at her wrists, four sets of loop earrings hanging low, and half a dozen necklaces of various metals around her neck. Her clothing was festive and bright, greens and blues like a peacock¡¯s coloring. On the edge of her nose, a bedazzled set of reading glasses hung precariously.

    When she noticed them file in, she rose from her chair with a smile.

    ¡°Ah, my afternoon appointment, I gather?¡± Terry noticed an accent so slight, it almost hid under the woman¡¯s tone. He strained his ears as she spoke, trying to place it. Her eyes traced over a ledger on the counter. ¡°Titania Polk? Which one of you is Titania?¡±

    Tania raised her hand timidly.

    ¡°I prefer Tania.¡±

    The woman tilted her head in surprise.

    ¡°That¡¯s a shame, dear. Titania is a beautiful name. Queen of the fairies. Powerful, bold.¡±

    Tania shrugged. ¡°Just a made up character,¡± she muttered.

    The woman¡¯s lips puckered as if considering Tania¡¯s words blasphemy. Then, she shrugged, her eyes twinkling as if nothing had happened.

    ¡°Well, come around here then. Let me get a look at you.¡±

    She moved around the counter, walking through Peter and Alan as if they weren¡¯t there. They squeezed against the wall to make room for the woman.

    Katie sidled over toward Terry, lowering her voice to a whisper.

    ¡°Madame Juliette is the best in the Market,¡± she hissed. ¡°Awakens half the natives.¡±

    Terry felt a sense of doubt creeping in. She didn¡¯t exactly seem professional.

    ¡°Did you use her?¡± he asked back, matching her whisper as Madame Juliette fussed over a barely tolerant Tania.

    Katie shook her head. ¡°We did it in house. My grammie does the whole family.¡±

    Madame Juliette called over her shoulder.

    ¡°You one of Louisa¡¯s?¡± She glanced back, her eye catching on Katie for a moment. ¡°How is the old bat?¡±

    Katie chuckled as if her grammie and Madame Juliette had a history.

    ¡°She¡¯s slowing down, ma¡¯am. But still as fiery as ever.¡±

    Madame Juliette scoffed, then turned to eye Terry and the others.

    ¡°Did my apprenticeship with Louisa. Tougher than rawhide.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s grammie,¡± Katie replied with a laugh.

    Madame Juliette pursed her lips and nodded. ¡°Saw her get in a scrap with Terraform once. Crazy old bat started chewing on pieces of stone, just to show she was tougher than his element. Think she broke a tooth¡ª¡± She leaned in conspiratorially. ¡°¡ªbut don¡¯t tell no one I told ya that.¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Katie replied.

    Madame Juliette clapped her hands, then shooed Tristan, Peter, and Alan out of the way.

    ¡°You boys, go stand outside. Too much testosterone throwing off the aura.¡± They each shared a confused glance, hesitating as if unclear if she was joking. She beckoned Tania to follow, then froze when she realized no one was moving. Her eyebrows rose and she pointedly glanced toward the door.

    Tristan was the first to get the message and quick stepped out of the shop. Alan and Peter were close behind. Terry made to follow them, but she stopped him with an upraised hand.

    ¡°Not you, young man. The connection between you and Miss Tania is strongest. You can stay.¡± She nodded at Katie. ¡°And Louisa¡¯s girl, you can stay if you¡¯d like, but I¡¯ve a feeling those boys will get into some mischief without a chaperone.¡±

    Katie laughed at that, nodding as she turned to Tania.

    ¡°You got this,¡± she said softly, giving the girl a hug. Then, she followed the others outside.

    Leaving Tania, Madame Juliette, and Terry alone in the shop.

    ¡°Follow me into the back, kids.¡±

    A bead curtain separated the front of the shop from the back, rattling as she passed through them.

    Terry and Tania hesitated, locking eyes for a moment. He gave her a steady nod and she sucked in a deep breath.

    ¡°Here goes nothing.¡±

    The back of the shop was darker and Tania hesitated at the bead curtain for a moment while her eyes adjusted. With Terry¡¯s Attributes and his Master of Light ability, the transition was less jarring.

    As he followed her in, there was a chaise lounge along the far wall. Shelves filled with various ingredients lined the other walls, giving the shop more of a witch¡¯s aesthetic than a professional Awakener.

    Madame Juliette was standing by one of those shelves, pulling down a series of vials and depositing them on a small work table in the center of the room.

    Tania eyed the multicolored liquids in the vials and Terry felt her emotions peak through her aura.

    Madame Juliette didn¡¯t seem to notice as she continued collecting ingredients.

    ¡°Take a seat, dear,¡± she said, indicating the lounge with a wave. ¡°Gotta mix the tonic up. Won¡¯t take more than a few minutes. Start doing some deep breaths in the meantime.¡±

    Tania slowly walked toward the lounge, casting a desperate look back toward Terry as if asking him to save her. He flashed her a thumbs up and she rolled her eyes, though he noticed her aura ease just a bit.

    They waited in complete silence as Madame Juliette combined half a dozen vials seemingly at random. After a few minutes, she held the final result up and gave it a swirl. It glowed iridescent, and Terry was surprised to sense a bit of aura infused into the, for lack of a better word, potion.

    She strode toward Tania and held out the vial.

    ¡°Drink up, dear.¡±

    Tania eyed it cynically.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Homebrew of my own design. Eases the nerves, opens the senses, primes the aura.¡± She pushed it toward the girl. ¡°Won¡¯t hurt. Might taste ripe going down, but harmless otherwise.¡±

    Tania hesitantly took the vial, casting one more desperate look toward Terry before taking a deep breath and downing it in one gulp.

    Madame Juliette took the vial and deposited it on the work table while Tania furled her nose at the taste.

    ¡°What now?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Lay back and relax. I¡¯ll guide you through the process.¡±

    Tania¡¯s energy was peaked and judging by the scowl on her face, laying down was the last thing she wanted to do. But she listened, leaning her head back against a pillow.

    Madame Juliette pulled up a stool and leaned over Tania.

    ¡°Close your eyes and slow your breathing. Deep inhales, hold, yes, three seconds. Now¡­out. Slower this time.¡±

    Terry watched with curiosity as Madame Juliette walked her through breathing exercises for a minute. He opened his senses, studying Tania¡¯s aura for any change. Experience and anecdotes told him that an Awakening was generally short¡ªa few minutes max. But his had involved a near-death experience, so a few minutes was a practical limit. He wondered if Madame Juliette¡¯s method would be different.

    ¡°Now, visualize a role model of some sort. Someone you aspire to be, perhaps. Think of their Class, their powers.¡± Madame Juliette grabbed a nearby hand towel and folded it in half before gently draping it over Tania¡¯s eyes. Then, she held her hands above Tania. ¡°Good, I see it.¡±

    ¡°You do?¡± Tania blurted out.

    ¡°No talking,¡± the woman chided.

    Tania clamped her mouth shut.

    ¡°Now¡­begin counting back from one hundred slowly.¡±

    ¡°One hundred¡­ninety-nine¡­¡±

    Tania barely reached ninety when she drifted off. Suddenly, her aura shifted and he gasped in surprise.

    There was a visible connection trailing off¡ªnot physically, but magically. It was subtle, but he could see it with his senses as clear as day.

    Was that her Waker¡¯s connection?

    He reached his senses forward. What would he feel if he touched its aura? Would it be like his own Awakening or¡ª

    Madame Juliette swatted his aura down with a contemptuous flick.

    ¡°Don¡¯t interrupt, silly boy,¡± she hissed.

    Heat rushed to his face and he rubbed at the back of his neck in embarrassment.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he whispered.

    He settled on observing from a distance. The connection to her Waker began to pulse, and her aura matched the rhythm.

    Then, it began to shift, morphing before his senses. There was an injection of power along the connection, joining seamlessly with her aura, coursing through it, shaping it.

    The process went on for a minute and he mentally cataloged the ongoing changes¡ªnot in the way he¡¯d catalog a Skill, but more out of academic interest. When the shifts seemed to finish, the connection pulled away, as if returning up into the heavens or the stars or wherever the Wakers existed.

    Madame Juliette reached out now, her own aura enveloping Tania¡¯s, running it over the girl¡¯s like one might run their hand over a rough surface.

    ¡°She¡¯s accepted the bargain,¡± the woman said softly. She glanced over her shoulder at Terry. ¡°But her emotions are erratic. It was not what she had hoped for.¡±

    Terry furrowed his brow.

    ¡°You can tell that¡ª¡±

    Tania suddenly bolted up into a sit, her eyes flitting around wildly, her breathing ragged, panicked.

    ¡°Watch out!¡± Tania screamed, her voice cracking from the sheer panic. ¡°They¡¯re coming¡ª¡±

    The entire room shuddered, like a small quake had hit the Market.

    Then, an even more violent shaking rocked them, sending Tania rolling to the floor and Terry staggering against the table.

    In the stunned silence that followed, a siren started blaring, eerily reminiscent of the air raid siren that had signaled Sol¡¯s attack once upon a time.

    A moment later, Terraform¡¯s familiar voice echoed in the room.

    ¡°All Market citizens. We are under attack. Head to the nearest shelter in an orderly fashion. I repeat: head to the nearest shelter in an orderly fashion.¡±

    A ripple played across Terry¡¯s senses, the feeling of a restricting presence dissipating suddenly. The now-absent feeling was one he was all too familiar with¡ªhad felt it in Topeka, Wichita, and the Market.

    The spatial-locking Artifact controlling Traveler passage to and from the Market was down.

 B2 - Chapter 9: This is Not a Defense

    When space was forced open against its will, it often carried ripples along its length¡ªtears that fissured out from the epicenter like post-quake tremors.

    A series of those tremors smashed into Marlon¡¯s senses with the subtlety of a brick to the face.

    He burst to his feet, cursing vividly as Duke burst from his lap with an indignant howl, knocking his pottery wheel to the floor in an explosion of wet clay.

    But he didn¡¯t dwell.

    Something was coming through that rent in space. He didn¡¯t know what or who, but it damned sure wasn¡¯t an out-of-season Christmas card.

    He reached across space, feeling the familiar twists and turns in the Market¡¯s air. There were two ways to open a portal¡ªwell, there were a million, but there were two general ideas that covered most cases.

    Slow, methodical; visualize both the journey and the destination. Create the connection, connect the entrance and the exit, then enact the vision with aura.

    Or, the quick and dirty way. Skip the song and dance, and rip that sumbitch open at the seams.

    The same held true for the inverse. Denying a connection could be slow and pretty or fast and loose. Marlon preferred to do things methodically; measure twice, cut once and all that¡ªpottery not withstanding.

    But there was only one man who had both the knowledge and the power to pierce space in the Market and target the Artifact deep in its center, encased below the Pit.

    Well, one man besides Marlon.

    And last he¡¯d heard, Skipper been sent packing with his tail between his legs.

    So Marlon reached out to that spot, found the strand worming its way through the cracks in space, and began cutting it off from its source, pinching the wellspring of power that was necessary to beat the Artifact.

    Instantly, new power injected into the tendril, fighting off Marlon¡¯s efforts.

    And the sheer volume was staggering.

    Any other day, Marlon would have bet the farm on himself against Skipper. At least in this situation. Marlon was less than a mile from the portal exit fighting its way through the lock, while Skipper¡¯s connection was dozens¡ªpossibly hundreds¡ªof miles away. And he was fighting against an S-ranked Artifact.

    The scales should have swung wildly in Marlon¡¯s favor.

    But something was off; the power expenditure was staggering, an order of magnitude greater than Skipper could bring to bear. Finesse and skill could only compensate so much.

    There was a high-ranking Amplifier in play¡ªmaybe even more than one. Juicing Skipper up like a shot of steroids in the ass.

    Their silent tug-of-war ended before it could start. The tidal wave of sheer force eclipsed Marlon, drowned his aura. He was forced to watch as a small object, no larger than his head, was slipped through the net.

    He ranged his senses across it, identifying it just as much by feel as by its aura signature.

    ¡°Terraform¡ª¡±

    His cry was cut off as the bomb exploded. The shop shook so violently, every single shelf was sent tumbling. A thousand pieces of pottery pulled at his aura at once, but he cut the connections with a thought, focusing his attention on space around the Market.

    A moment later, the lock on space dropped. The sensation was like a wet blanket drawn away from his face. His senses exploded with information, space reaching out to him like a long-lost lover.

    There was no time to revel in the freedom; destroying the Artifact was only the opening salvo.

    More attacks were on the way and it was up to him to intercept them.

    <hr>

    Terry, Tania, and Madame Juliette stood stock-still in stunned silence. Then, the sounds of screaming and panic filtered in from outside the shop.

    Katie raced in a moment later, her hair in disarray, dust coating her cheeks.

    ¡°You guys okay!¡± There was the slightest tremor to her voice, her eyes casting about wildly.

    Juliette had recovered first and was helping Tania back to her feet.

    ¡°We¡¯re alright, dear,¡± the woman replied. Her eyes were set, narrowed with determination¡ªthe look of a grandmother about to get to the bottom of all the fuss. ¡°We need to hurry¡ª¡±

    A voice sounded from nowhere, echoing inside the tiny room.

    ¡°Juliette, you¡¯re needed.¡±

    It was Terraform, Terry realized, his words resonating through the stone.

    Katie shrieked in surprise, while Terry flinched. Tania was still in a daze¡ªeither from the tumble to the floor or her Awakening.

    Juliette, however, seemed unfazed.

    ¡°Right away, sir.¡± She walked Tania over, handing the girl off to Terry. She began to usher them all outside as she spoke to Katie. ¡°You remember the shelter on Atwood?¡±

    Katie nodded quickly. ¡°Yes, but isn¡¯t the Crag Point shelter closer¡ª¡±

    Juliette shook her head. ¡°Too small, it¡¯ll fill up before you get there.¡± As they left the shop, Alan, Peter, and Tristan raced over. ¡°Get to the shelter, children. I would escort you but my services are needed.¡±

    ¡°We understand, ma¡¯am,¡± Tristan replied for them all.

    The woman started toward the Pit, but Terry stopped her with a hand on her arm. She looked down in question, her brow furrowing, the precursor to the annoyance he saw bubbling to the surface.

    ¡°I can teleport you to Terraform,¡± he said, releasing her arm. ¡°It¡¯ll be faster.¡±

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    Her eyes widened.

    ¡°A Traveler? Excellent.¡± She turned back to Katie. ¡°Make for Crag Point. I need to borrow your friend.¡±

    Katie simply nodded, but Tania stepped forward.

    ¡°I¡¯m coming.¡±

    Juliette ignored her words, turning toward Terry.

    ¡°With all haste, young man.¡±

    Terry eyed Tania even as he began to connect his aura to Terraform¡¯s office. A second presence brushed against his aura. It moved with a deft touch, engulfing Terry¡¯s aura, threatening to snuff it out. But they recognized each other at the same moment and Marlon retracted from Terry¡¯s power. A moment later, a portal sliced across Terry¡¯s senses, popping into existence in between the group.

    Marlon¡¯s surly face peered back at them, his shop¡¯s interior in the background.

    ¡°Terry.¡± Then, his eyes caught on Juliette. ¡°Ah, Romero. Playtime¡¯s over, get to Terraform. I¡¯ll hold the intrusions from here.¡± Another portal cut through space, effortless to Terry¡¯s senses. ¡°This one leads to a shelter. Send the kids through.¡± Juliette began ushering them through Marlon¡¯s second portal, though Tania simply crossed her arms and stood her ground. ¡°Terry, school¡¯s out¡ª¡± His face suddenly constricted and a moment later, Terry felt what Marlon must have sensed.

    A half-dozen probes touched all around the Market, light brushes against the fabric of space that Terry might not have felt if his senses weren¡¯t dialed to the max. He felt the tendrils of aura begin to peel back reality, begin to bridge space to some place too far away for Terry to follow.

    Then, six matching tendrils snuffed the forming portals out, slamming them shut with a finality he could feel.

    On the other end of Marlon¡¯s portal, his face was pulled tight in a grimace.

    ¡°No time to chat. Can you get to Terraform?¡±

    Terry blinked, then realized the question was for him.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he replied, nodding hastily.

    Marlon¡¯s portal winked out without so much as a flex of aura, leaving them behind.

    How had he projected sound through the portal? And light was passing through in both directions.

    Terry added two-way portals to his list of things to investigate¡­when they weren¡¯t dealing with an impending war.

    When he shook himself from those thoughts, he saw that Juliette had managed to coax everyone into the portal leading to the shelter.

    Everyone, except Tania, that was.

    They locked eyes and she crossed her arms, as if daring him to say anything. He simply shrugged, then began to coalesce his aura inside Terraform¡¯s office. He felt Marlon¡¯s presence through the weave of his aura, but otherwise had no issue forming the portal.

    Space parted and Juliette stepped through without a hint of trepidation. They followed on her heels.

    Terraform¡¯s office was a hive of activity, dozens of people milling about in pockets, quiet chatter combining into a dull buzz that filled the air.

    The man himself was conversing with two others¡ªan older woman with piercing eyes that instantly locked onto the three of them, and a younger-looking man who nonetheless had an aura that was palpable even across the room.

    The woman who had spotted them called out, her voice cutting across the din like a hot knife through butter.

    ¡°Juliette, took you long enough! Get over here. There¡¯s work to do.¡±

    The sharp tone surprised Terry and he waited to see if the woman would fire back. But Juliette seemed instead to shrink in on herself, like a child scolded by their mother.

    ¡°Coming, Louisa,¡± Juliette called back. She flicked a quick glance toward Terry, then gripped Tania¡¯s shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, my dear. You deserve a better Awakening than this. But duty calls.¡±

    Tania simply nodded and Juliette left in a rush, joining with Terraform and the two others.

    ¡°Guess that¡¯s Katie¡¯s grandma,¡± Tania said idly as she watched Juliette jog away. ¡°Not seeing the family resemblance myself¡­¡±

    Terry pulled his attention away from Terraform, the bustling room, and the background noise of Marlon and the portals he was constantly snapping shut.

    ¡°Hey.¡±

    Tania didn¡¯t look over as she replied. ¡°What?¡±

    He waited a beat, his eyebrows ready and raised for when she finally glanced over.

    ¡°What?¡± she asked again.

    ¡°Congratulations,¡± Terry said. ¡°And welcome to the fight¡­or whatever.¡±

    She rolled her eyes. ¡°Been fighting.¡±

    He shrugged, feeling a bit of embarrassment. ¡°I know that¡­it¡¯s just a tradition to say that or something.¡±

    She nodded, glancing off, something clearly on her mind.

    He lightly bumped her shoulder.

    ¡°Well¡­?¡±

    She flicked her eyes back, then away.

    ¡°Well, what?¡±

    He pursed his lips, realizing that her distraction was a defense mechanism to avoid discussing her Awakening.

    ¡°Not what you were hoping for?¡± he asked quietly.

    She furled her nose. ¡°I got Seer. I¡­¡± She blinked, her eyes going out of focus for a moment.

    A notification, he realized. Her System warning her.

    She waved her hand dismissively, growling low in her throat.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she said, answering his unasked question. His skepticism must have been plain on his face, because she turned to face him. ¡°Really, I¡¯m fine. I can transition after my Midmark and¡­¡± Her tone was weak, full of doubt.

    Before he could figure out how to console her, Terraform turned and addressed the room, his deep voice carrying clearly across the din.

    ¡°Attention everyone. Let¡¯s begin the debrief.¡±

    The crowd instantly settled, all the side conversations cutting off abruptly.

    Behind Terraform, Louisa, Juliette, and the unnamed man, the wall shifted, liquefying until a floor-to-ceiling map of the Market was carved directly into the stone. All along the map, flashes appeared and then shortly disappeared after a few seconds. Without realizing how, Terry knew they were portal incursions that were being stifled by Marlon.

    There were also a dozen markers that were labeled as shelters, and small numbers next to them that fluctuated by the second. He guessed they were occupancy numbers, as they were tallying up to somewhere around the expected number of Market citizens.

    ¡°Some of you are aware of the looming threat, while some of you are hearing this for the first time.¡±

    A hush settled over the room. It wasn¡¯t a hush Terry could hear¡ªeveryone was already quiet, their attention fully on Terraform. No, this was a hush Terry felt, a sense that the aura in the room had stilled for the briefest moment, that the very air seemed to hold its breath.

    ¡°As you probably all felt, the Market¡¯s primary anti-Traveler Artifact was destroyed a few minutes ago. In the interim, there have been twenty-three additional attempts to penetrate Market space¡ªall intercepted by a certain Traveler you should all be familiar with.¡±

    Hushed chatter began to pick up among the gathered people, but Terraform held up his hands for silence.

    ¡°The good news is, our enemy is still many hundreds of miles away, giving us the advantage in maintaining spatial authority. The bad news is, they¡¯re on their way and moving fast.¡±

    A voice cut across the room, a desperate need in their tone.

    ¡°Who? Who¡¯s attacking the Market, Terraform?¡±

    Faces turned to look at the speaker, then whipped back forward in anticipation of the answer.

    Terraform stared steadily out toward the small crowd, his back firm, his aura a titanic presence in the room. He projected strength and surety¡ªand even though Terry knew who was coming for them, knew why he was coming for them, he still felt buoyed by the man¡¯s presence.

    ¡°Our enemy¡­is Qui Shen, with assistance from Skipper¡ª¡±

    A cacophony of sound erupted from the crowd, shouts of fear, doubt, anger, all mingling into the disturbed aura to create chaos that sent Terry¡¯s teeth grinding.

    Terraform stood there impassively, the sound and turbulent aura crashing futilely against him like he was a stone wall. But at his side, Katie¡¯s grandmother¡ªLouisa¡ªwas snarling like a feral dog.

    Terry hadn¡¯t felt her aura initially, but her bent back straightened and her cane snapped against the ground.

    And all the aura in the room rushed toward her like she was a vortex, a cyclone, sucking the energy in with one effortless pull.

    Then¡­

    It exploded back out, rippling across the crowd, staggering those in the front, fuzzing Terry¡¯s senses where he stood in the back.

    The sensation was like a bucket of cold water in the face, exposing his senses raw, short circuiting the chatter in the room.

    ¡°Quiet yourselves.¡±

    Her voice¡ªin contrast to her aura¡ªwas soft, tremulous even. But the effect in conjunction with the wave of aura that preceded it was chilling. Her narrowed eyes scanned the crowd for a moment, then turned to Terraform.

    ¡°They¡¯re all yours.¡±

    The slightest uptick at the corner of his mouth was the only hint of his amusement, but he quickly schooled his expression and addressed the crowd.

    ¡°By all accounts, Qui Shen comes in force. I sense dozens of A-rankers and hundreds of lower-ranks among their army. Amplifiers bolster their Stone Elementalists, hampering my attempts to prevent their passage. And the closer they come, the more likely Skipper will be to overpower Marlon.¡±

    He studied the room, his eyes seeming to pick out everyone and no one at the same time. The energy built, until every person was hanging on his next words.

    ¡°Make no mistake. We aren¡¯t here to form a defense¡­¡± Terry¡¯s breath caught as he considered the implication. ¡°The purpose of this group¡­will be to coordinate an evacuation.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 10: Martyr

    Before the shouts could even begin, Katie¡¯s grandmother, Louisa, began to pull the aura into herself once more.

    Everyone got the message loud and clear.

    Terraform eyed the group as if waiting for the brave¡ªor idiotic¡ªsoul willing to challenge the older woman¡¯s stance. A full ten seconds passed before the man seemed satisfied.

    ¡°Every moment we waste is a another opportunity for a bomb or raiding party to bypass Marlon. I¡¯ll give three minutes for relevant questions. I¡¯ll ignore anything else. Hands.¡±

    An older man in the middle of the group raised his hand. He seemed to have the largest flock of people gathered about him and Terry could feel his aura even through the churn of Louisa¡¯s pull.

    Terraform¡¯s lips set tight¡ªa rare reaction from the generally stoic man¡ªand he seemed almost reluctant to point toward the older man.

    His voice was high and reedy, almost aristocratic, but with a whining undertone that aged the man down multiple decades. ¡°Why?¡±

    Terraform wrinkled his nose in distaste, but it was Louisa who answered for him.

    ¡°Why what, Rupert!¡± she growled. ¡°The man said don¡¯t waste our time.¡±

    The man named Rupert stood up straighter, as if trying to look down his nose at the hunched over woman.

    ¡°Why¡ª¡± He drawled out the word slowly, as if seeing how long he could make the syllables last. ¡°¡ªis Qui Shen coming? What have we done to offend him?¡± He cast a pointed look toward Terraform at that, clearly insinuating that this might be a Terraform issue, not a Market issue.

    There was some slight grumbling at that, but Terry couldn¡¯t help but notice that a large portion of the crowd followed Rupert¡¯s gaze, looking to Terraform for a response.

    Of course, Terry knew why Qui Shen was coming, knew that he had made the long trek across continents and hundreds of miles underground for the Singularity in Terraform¡¯s chest. Even with an S-ranked Traveler at his beck and call, the logistics of launching a war party across those distances¡ªwhile leaving your kingdom behind¡ªwere not the moves of a whim.

    Qui Shen was making a bold play and Rupert had correctly surmised that the stakes were high.

    Terraform eyed the crowd, perhaps trying to read the mood. After a moment, he shook his head.

    ¡°I¡¯m not at liberty to divulge that information.¡±

    Oof, Terry thought. That¡¯s a bold strategy.

    Rupert and his hanger ons shared shocked looks, and a low rumbling began to form among the crowd. The man surveyed the mood, clearly waiting for a consensus to form before speaking up.

    ¡°That¡¯s an unacceptable answer.¡± Rupert looked around him, clearly garnering support. ¡°We deserve to know why we¡¯re being evicted from our home!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not being evicted, you dolt,¡± Louisa called out. She had more words on the edge of her tongue when Terraform placed a gentle hand on her arm. She clamped her lips tight with a scowl that could peel paint.

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome to stay and fight, Rupert,¡± Terraform said lightly. ¡°But Qui Shen isn¡¯t known for his mercy and I¡¯m afraid this is a battle we cannot win.¡± He scanned the crowd once more, his eyes seeming to pierce through the anger, his words reminding them of the impending doom. ¡°Next question.¡±

    Rupert bristled, his hand twitching as if he were bold enough to take another shot at the leader of the Market. But Terraform¡¯s eyes were balls of power, burning like the lava down in the Pit directly below his office.

    After a tense moment, a woman in the back, nearby Terry, raised her hand.

    ¡°Yes, Marin?¡±

    She flinched at her name as if she hadn¡¯t believed she would be given the floor. Drawing in a deep breath, she recovered her nerve.

    ¡°Coul-could we surrender? If we don¡¯t fight¡­¡±

    She trailed off as Terraform shook his head.

    ¡°I¡¯ve already corresponded with the man.¡± Surprise filtered through the crowd, including Terry. ¡°He explained to me in no uncertain terms that he has been mandated by Heaven to burn me and all who I have touched.¡± Terraform sighed heavily, clearly distraught at the news. ¡°If I had to guess, I¡¯d say he¡¯s been given a Quest to wipe out the Market and all its residents.¡±

    The crowd threatened to boil over once more, but Terraform cut it off before the unrest could materialize.

    ¡°We have no choice. Some of us will fight and stall while the others flee. That is the only thing we can do.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not coming?¡±

    Terry didn¡¯t see who had said it, but he had to agree with the urgency and distraught tone in the person¡¯s voice. Why wasn¡¯t Terraform planning on leaving with them?

    The leader of the Market shook his head.

    ¡°After this meeting, I leave with those who have already agreed to follow. We meet Qui Shen deep under the earth, away from the lava of the Pit where he will be strongest. I¡¯ve identified a section along their path where there is nothing but stone within ten miles. There, I will have my best shot at ending the threat. And if nothing else¡­I¡¯ll delay them as long as possible so that the rest of you may put as much distance between you as you can.¡±

    Another person in the crowd raised a hand and Terraform nodded.

    ¡°Where can we go?¡±

    ¡°There is only one faction within a thousand miles capable of challenging Qui Shen.¡± Terry¡¯s stomach dropped as he realized who Terraform meant. ¡°You¡¯ll head for the North American East Coast, the stronghold of the SPC.¡±

    Dancer¡­

    Tania glanced toward Terry, obvious concern in her eyes. He glanced back, shrugging with a feigned lack of concern.

    He didn¡¯t want her to see the weight pressing down on him. The absence of Silver, who had served as his bulwark against the Dancer threat. The flight from Wichita, the loss of that safe haven.

    And now the Market, the one place that had felt unassailable, was on the verge of destruction.

    For some reason, it felt like the world was conspiring against him, stripping away his comforts, forcing him from any place he might call home.

    So selfish¡­

    This wasn¡¯t about him¡ªthousands were being displaced from their homes. He needed to think about them. He needed to help save as many lives as possible.

    Terraform had continued talking, but he had missed it. But as the back wall of the room liquefied, Terry¡¯s attention snapped back into focus.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    Sol was there, striding toward them from the tunnel that had been previously hidden. Hunter¡ªthe Hypnotist helping him cope with the trauma of his imprisonment¡ªwas at his shoulder, but all eyes were on the S-ranker.

    The condensed aura around the man was a mountain shifting the ambient flow, impossible to miss. Murmurs of surprise and excitement began to build among the crowd as they realized another S-ranker had joined them.

    Terraform held out his hand to indicate the approaching Sol.

    ¡°Many of you know Sol by reputation. He is an S-ranker and one of the Originals. He happened to be visiting in a fortuitous turn of events.¡± He placed a hand on Sol¡¯s shoulder and Terry was pleased to note that the man appeared steady, his eyes slowly trailing over the crowd. ¡°He¡¯s agreed to lead the evacuation to the surface.¡±

    Rupert raised his hand as he called out, ¡°Shouldn¡¯t a Market native lead the group?¡± He looked around for support. ¡°Plus, don¡¯t you have your own group to worry about?¡± He turned back, a questing look in his eyes. ¡°The¡­Knights of Sol, weren¡¯t they? Where are they now?¡±

    Sol flinched, his eyes trailing to the ground. Hunter leaned in and whispered something in his ear and Sol nodded softly. At his side, Terraform glared at Rupert, his aura stirring noticeably.

    Terry wondered how the man could be so bold in the face of two S-rankers. But though there were grumbles from some members of the crowd, he couldn¡¯t help but notice more than a few were nodding along.

    Terraform opened his mouth to respond, a mask of fury on his face. But Sol¡¯s hand stopped him, his eyes lifting to meet Terraform¡¯s gaze. The leader of the Market nodded and stepped back.

    Sol slowly turned his eyes back toward Rupert, and Terry felt the crowd stir as golden magic swirled in his pupils.

    ¡°What is your name?¡± Sol¡¯s voice was soft, but carried a deadly edge to it that formed goosebumps on Terry¡¯s skin.

    To Rupert¡¯s credit, he didn¡¯t back down in the face of Sol¡¯s obvious power, instead stepping forward to break free from his group.

    ¡°Rupert Olivier. A-ranked Duelist.¡±

    Terry felt a shiver trace up his spine. An A-ranked Duelist was a threat¡ªeven to S-rankers. The sheer speed and strength they could potentially bring to bear was not something to be taken lightly.

    Not that Terry would have given the man one chance in a hundred against someone of Sol¡¯s caliber any other time. But the mental struggles he¡¯d seen in the S-ranker back in Topeka did make him worry. Not that there would be a brawl right here and now, but more so that there could be a power struggle once they were gone from Terraform¡¯s protection.

    Enough A-rankers backing Rupert could spell disaster for the convoy.

    To Sol¡¯s credit, he didn¡¯t give an inch and Terry wouldn¡¯t had known there were cracks in the facade just from looking at the man.

    ¡°The Knights of Sol are dead.¡± His eyes seemed to burrow into Rupert, flashing golden like miniature suns. ¡°But I owe Terraform a debt and he has asked me to see you all to safety.¡± Then, he smiled and shrugged. ¡°Though, if you don¡¯t want my assistance, I¡¯ll simply stand back and let¡­¡± He clicked his tongue. ¡°What was your name again?¡±

    Rupert sniffed, crossing his arms. ¡°Rupert Olivier.¡±

    Sol chuckled in a self-deprecating manner.

    ¡°That¡¯s right. Mr. Olivier seems up to the task, doesn¡¯t he?¡± The light in the room suddenly dimmed, darkness spreading from the edges until the entire crowd was shrouded. Only Rupert remained illuminated, a large spotlight shining down on him. ¡°He can defend you all should Qui Shen¡¯s agents attack your convoy.¡±

    A panicked voice called out through the dark. ¡°Help us, Sol!¡±

    Another joined in. ¡°Lead us!¡±

    A flurry of voices cried out then, layering over each other until the words were indistinguishable.

    The dark receded, the spotlight diffusing until the room was illuminated like nothing had happened.

    And there stood Sol, a friendly smile on his face.

    ¡°Well¡­if you insist.¡±

    The crowd slowly settled, though there were quiet murmurings all around. Rupert stood stock still, his face stoic though his eyes burned as they stared at Sol and Terraform.

    A flash of red on the map behind Terraform drew Terry¡¯s eye, just as Terraform himself cried out. The room shuddered as an explosion went off somewhere in the Market. Shouts of panic filled the room, but were quickly silenced as Louisa¡¯s aura cut across the crowd.

    ¡°The evacuation begins now!¡± Terraform called out. The wall looking over the Pit melted away, revealing hundreds of people milling about on a large stone platform that hadn¡¯t been there before.

    Had Terraform been coordinating all of the citizens into position even while hosting this meeting?

    A glass bridge formed from the office floor, reaching out over the Pit to connect to the large stone platform.

    ¡°Get moving!¡± Louisa yelled and the crowd was quick to obey.

    Terry and Tania were near the back of the office and so were one of the first people to step onto the bridge. They ran down toward the stone platform, but Terry nearly stumbled as something rushed past him.

    He caught himself from tipping over the bridge edge with Tania¡¯s help, then scanned ahead to see what had nearly sent him into the Pit.

    Rupert was among the crowd waiting on the stone platform, weaving between the hundreds of people until he settled somewhere in the middle.

    ¡°That son of a bitch nearly killed you,¡± Tania muttered, casting daggers after the man. ¡°Sol should just melt the bastard and be done with him.¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t find a reason to disagree.

    Now that he wasn¡¯t distracted by the tension of Sol¡¯s standoff with Rupert, he could feel the portals Marlon was activating throughout the Market. He knew they were Marlon¡¯s because he felt the man¡¯s aura reaching out, touching space with a familiar, deft hand.

    They snapped into place on the large stone platform and people surged from them. If Terry had to guess, these were the citizens who had been hiding inside the shelters.

    ¡°Can¡¯t the Traveler just send us to safety!¡± someone cried nearby.

    ¡°He¡¯s only a D-ranker,¡± another answered. ¡°Plus, send us where? Into the stone?¡±

    Terry was distracted from the surrounding panicked conversation by a notification.

    Marlon Ockers has accepted your chat request.

    <blockquote>

    [Marlon]: Terry, no time. Getting overwhelmed.

    </blockquote>

    The platform shifted, causing the crowd of people to cry out. Tania stumbled at Terry¡¯s side and they steadied each other.

    In the distance, he spotted Katie, Peter, Alan, and Tristan appear through a nearby portal.

    <blockquote>

    [Marlon]: Take my cats. Please.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What are you saying, Marlon? Come with us!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Marlon]: This is my home. Ain¡¯t leaving.

    </blockquote>

    Terry growled in frustration. Tania, who had been waving over the others, looked at him with confusion.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Marlon¡¯s staying behind. Some bullshit about not leaving his home.¡±

    Tania furled her brow. ¡°The Traveler?¡±

    He gave a distracted nod, then reached across space. Marlon¡¯s presence touched his but he could sense the man¡¯s distraction.

    Terry forced his aura into Marlon¡¯s shop and a portal whooshed into existence before him. He stepped through a moment later.

    Tania called after him, but he snapped it shut before she could follow.

    Marlon wasn¡¯t in his usual spot by the pottery wheel, but Terry saw him over the toppled shelves near the front of the shop.

    ¡°What are you doing, boy!¡± he barked, whirling around in a rage. ¡°Get back to the¡ª¡±

    He cut off as Terry felt another dozen intrusions fight to penetrate Market space. This time, Terry reached out with his own senses, adding his aura to Marlon¡¯s as they worked together to force the forming portals shut.

    When the threat had passed, Marlon stomped toward him, crashing through the shelves and broken pottery as if they weren¡¯t there. His face was beet red, his large bulk suddenly intimidating as the man charged toward Terry. Marlon loomed over him with wild eyes.

    ¡°Get out of here!¡±

    Terry had never seen the man so angry and he had to take a steadying breath to keep his heart from pounding out of his chest.

    ¡°Come with us, then!¡± he shouted back. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving you here to die!¡±

    Marlon¡¯s chest heaved, his eyes boring into Terry as if he could break Terry¡¯s resolve by sheer force of will. After a tense moment, the anger melted away, Marlon¡¯s shoulders sagging in defeat.

    ¡°I can¡¯t, Terry. Don¡¯t you see? I¡¯m the only thing keeping Skipper in check. If I left with the rest of the evacuation, they¡¯d be inside the Market in minutes. And if I continued to stall the prick while we evacuated, he¡¯d narrow down our position and follow us.¡±

    ¡°What are you saying?¡± Terry whispered. He knew what the man was saying. He just didn¡¯t want to believe it.

    Marlon sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°I can stall Skipper out while Terraform takes the fight to them. Our lives will buy you the hours you need to get a head start.¡±

    His throat tightened, tears forming against his control.

    ¡°Come away with us, Marlon.¡± His voice cracked, but he didn¡¯t care. ¡°We can fight him together. If we pool our power¡ª¡±

    Marlon shook his head and Terry felt his aura stir.

    ¡°You¡¯ll just get in my way.¡±

    Two dozen portals popped into existence around them, pulling his cats through. Terry felt them deposited on the stone platform, near where he had left Tania.

    One more portal formed, this one pulling on Terry.

    ¡°Marlon,¡± Terry cried. ¡°I can help!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± the man whispered, his voice tight. ¡°Take care of my babies.¡±

    Terry fought against the man¡¯s aura, struggling to reject the pull as Marlon had once told him was possible. But as he began to force himself away from the portal trying to suck him through, another formed behind him with no warning.

    Tears dripped down Marlon¡¯s face as he shoved Terry through.

    There was a disorienting moment as he traveled through sub-space, then he landed on his butt back on the stone platform where he¡¯d left Tania.

    She was by his side in an instant, checking on him, but all he could do was stir his aura to reopen a portal back to Marlon.

    I¡¯ll force the bastard to follow us!

    But his every attempt to cut through space was smashed before it could even materialize. No matter how hard he tried, Marlon shut down his portals with brutal efficiency and supreme control.

    After a minute of futility, Terry sagged in Tania¡¯s arms, an involuntary sob shaking his body.

    All around him, cats roamed, distraught, meowing for their master.

 B2 - Chapter 11: The Broken Pottery Club

    The platform shuddered violently, pulling Terry from his melancholy. He glanced up to see Terraform on a second platform made of pure glass, rising high above the Pit. There were a handful of others with Terraform, among them Katie¡¯s grandmother and Madame Juliette. The sight tightened his chest, but he forced himself to stand, wiping his face as he looked toward Katie. Her eyes tracked Terraform¡¯s platform, her own tears slipping down her cheeks.

    Tania, who had been watching Terry, followed his gaze and realized the gravity of the scene. Katie¡¯s grandmother was among those giving their lives to slow Qui Shen and Skipper. The understanding flickered in Tania¡¯s widened eyes before settling into a pained acceptance. Terry left the dozens of cats to their own devices and walked over to Katie and the others. Peter had wrapped his long arms around her, holding her tight against his chest as she sobbed, her body shaking with grief. Terry and Tania watched, feeling the helplessness gnaw at them, unable to soothe the raw pain Katie was feeling.

    All around them, cries of surprise and panic rang out as Terraform¡¯s platform rose up to the ceiling of the Pit and disappeared through the stone. Movement caught Terry¡¯s eye, and he glanced over to see Sol flying through the air, his form almost ethereal, a beacon of hope approaching the large evacuation platform. Shining like a Greek god, he floated above them, his voice ringing out, amplified by his powerful S-ranker physique.

    ¡°Everyone remain calm. Terraform and those few brave souls joining him will be able to delay Qui Shen while we make for the surface.¡± Sol''s voice was a soothing balm amidst the chaos, calming the frayed nerves of the frightened masses.

    Sol¡¯s flight took him to the middle of the platform, his feet alighting gently. He was instantly swarmed by dozens of people, each shouting, clamoring over each other for assurances. His presence was a lighthouse in the storm, drawing everyone toward him, offering a semblance of security in the frantic turmoil.

    Terry felt their platform shudder as Terraform¡¯s power dissipated. A moment later, he felt the pull of half a dozen different auras working in tandem as they took over the platform¡¯s movement. They moved at a noticeably slower pace than when Vlad had shipped their small group to and from the Market, but that was to be expected.

    The others consoled Katie as she came to terms with her grandmother¡¯s sacrifice, and at some point, her mother had come over and pulled Katie away to be with the family. Terry put a comforting hand on Katie''s shoulder as she passed, offering a small, sad smile that couldn''t quite reach his eyes.

    With nothing to do but wait, the others talked in low tones, their voices blending into a murmured hum of anxiety and hope. Terry went back to check on Marlon¡¯s cats, a bittersweet distraction amidst the tension. As he scanned around the large stone platform, he noticed System tags moving about at ankle height. Marlon must have flipped their auras in that particular way he had done with Marmalade. It was easy enough to track the cats with those System tags, but nearly impossible to gather them up. He had no way to corral them, and any attempts to chase them down only led to them fleeing or, in Marmalade¡¯s case, teleporting away. Whenever that particular cat used its incredible power, Terry felt a slight pull on Marlon¡¯s aura, a thin thread of connection that tugged at his scattered focus.

    When it became clear that gathering the cats was an impossible task, he turned his attention back to the intrusions of space flashing all around the Market. As the platform neared the edge of the Pit, preparing to enter the stone, Terry felt the intensity and the quantity of the intrusions increase. Marlon continued to snuff them out before they could form into portals, but Terry could sense that it was only a matter of time before Skipper overwhelmed him with sheer power.

    Terry just hoped that Terraform and his small assault group could intercept Qui Shen before that moment. He clenched his fists, feeling the bite of his fingernails into the skin of his palm¡ªa grounding sensation in the swirl of anxiety.

    The platform jerked again, but this time steadied as it entered the stone, the comforting embrace of the earthen walls providing a brief respite. Terry watched as Katie and her family huddled together, drawing strength from one another. Meanwhile, Sol moved among the evacuees, offering reassurances and plans, his power lighting up the space with a difussed glow.

    As the platform continued its ascent, the Market below began to fade from sight, swallowed by the encroaching darkness. Terry felt a tumult of emotions¡ªpride for the bravery and solidarity of the evacuees and deep sorrow for those gone to fight. They were not all warriors, but this exodus was their fight, their effort to survive.

    Katie¡¯s soft sobs had subsided into silent tears, her mother holding her close, both drawing strength from their shared grief. Peter, Tania, Tristan, Alan, and the other evacuees watched the dimming lights of the Market with expressions of hope mixed with fear. Each face was marked by their resilience, a silent promise to push forward, persevere.

    The platform shuddered slightly as it moved through the stone, the low hum of magic and power reverberating through the air. The evacuees huddled closer together, an unspoken unity strengthening their resolve. Sol¡¯s presence among them, calming and reassuring, acted like a beacon, keeping fear at bay.

    Terry took a deep breath, allowing the gravity of their situation to settle in his bones. The Market natives had left behind everything they knew, carrying only memories and hopes. But sometimes, Terry thought, that was enough. They would reach the surface, build anew, and find a way to honor the sacrifices made by Terraform, Katie¡¯s grandmother¡­Marlon.

    As the platform ascended steadily, Terry glanced back one last time, his heart heavy with the weight of what they had been forced to leave behind. They were fleeing, but with each second they survived, they carried forward the resolve of those who stayed behind. Whatever lay ahead, that resolve would guide them through.

    <hr>

    A dozen probing attacks impeded on Marlon¡¯s attention, but he shut them down absentmindedly; Skipper had always been an aura brute, all power, no finesse. And Marlon was working within a mile radius, while Skipper was over a hundred miles away.

    But Marlon was under no delusions¡ªwhen Skipper got close enough, brute force would be more than enough to penetrate Market space. The thought made him grit his teeth. Skipper might be an aura brute, but he was a dangerous one, and Marlon had to respect the threat he posed.

    Which was why Terraform wasn¡¯t relying upon Marlon¡¯s skill forever.

    The man himself appeared at the alley mouth, four familiar faces trailing behind him.

    Hunter Sheffield stood at Terraform¡¯s shoulder, a silent sentinel. Marlon recognized the man from when he¡¯d first arrived in the Market twenty plus years back. He¡¯d been a freshly Awakened Hypnotist, wet behind the ears and eager to help others.

    Marlon had rolled his eyes at his bold proclamations, but had since redefined his opinion of the man. Those dreams had matured into a steely resolve grafted by years of hard work.

    On Terraform¡¯s other side, Louisa Vasquez¡¯s sharp gaze swept through the shop, her scowl deepening at the sight of disarray. Marlon knew better than to scowl back¡ªshe¡¯d just use it as fuel for her disdain, feeding off any sign of defiance. And though her back was bent and her skin wrinkled, the sense of her power was undiminished.

    Behind Louisa stood Juliette Romero, a young woman when he¡¯d first arrived in the Market¡ªnow, a respected elder and the woman responsible for Awakening half the Market natives. She still seemed to shrink under Louisa¡¯s shadow, but Marlon couldn¡¯t blame her¡ªit was a mighty large shadow to be cast by such a small woman.

    And behind Hunter stood Marcus Gasly, an A-ranked Amplifier. Marlon didn¡¯t know much about the man¡ªhe was quiet and unassuming, which Marlon appreciated. But he could feel the man¡¯s aura and it was dense.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Finally, there was Terraform himself. The S-ranked Elementalist was a titanic presence, eclipsing the aura of the other four without even trying. But to Marlon¡¯s senses, it wasn¡¯t just the sheer power and depth of his aura that was staggering; it webbed outward from the man like a spider¡¯s web, latching onto a million touchpoints around the Market and deeper still. There were so many strands of power trailing off Terraform that it appeared the man was the center of a rising star and the tendrils were the rays shining outward.

    But just as the lines of power emanating from the man spoke to a monolith of strength, so too did the lines etched around his eyes hint at the sleepless nights and the heavy weight of countless decisions.

    Anyways, that¡¯s what he signed up for when he formed his little rogue city, Marlon thought with a grimace. He waved them onward with a grunt.

    ¡°Well, don¡¯t linger in the alley. We¡¯ve got things to do.¡±

    He turned and stomped over the broken pottery and shelving, pulling six wicker chairs through space and depositing them on clear ground in a circle. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he let his heavy bulk sink into his favorite chair, as if grounding his resolve.

    As they entered the shop, he watched them pick their way through the debris in various manners.

    Terraform simply followed after Marlon, his boots crunching through without a care in the world.

    Hunter quietly mirrored Terraform¡¯s steps, a shadowed echo as always, his eyes scanning the room with intensity, as if expecting Qui Shen himself to pop out from Marlon¡¯s closet.

    Louisa coalesced the aura around her, lifting herself off the ground through sheer power. Manifesting aura physically was the work of a master and he suspected she was showing off with the casual display, but he didn¡¯t let any surprise show; her head was big enough already. As she floated, she flicked off invisible dust particles from her sleeve¡ªan unconscious assertion of control.

    Behind her, Juliette¡¯s eyes darted to Louisa in obvious admiration before she began picking a clear path through the shop, tiptoeing lightly on top of the debris when it was clear there was no other way through.

    Marcus lingered by the doorway, his presence a steady anchor amidst the others¡¯ turbulence. His quiet demeanor belied the dense, formidable aura he wielded without fanfare. He stepped forward with a calculating look, judging each step carefully before fully committing.

    When the group finally made their way across the pottery minefield and into the wicker chairs, Terraform scanned them all for a moment, letting the tension in the air build. After a moment, he broke the silence with a slight uptick at the corner of his mouth.

    ¡°And so commences the first¡ªand most likely last¡ªgathering of the Broken Pottery Club.¡±

    Light laughter echoed out from the group, but Marlon was distracted by more incursion attempts. So instead, he simply scowled as he forced Skipper¡¯s portals shut.

    As they settled back into a tense silence, Terraform slumped into his chair, the slack in his shoulders betraying the immense pressure he felt. But in the next moment, he straightened, his eyes suddenly burning with determination.

    ¡°This moment most likely marks the death of the Market as we know it. Some of you have been here since its inception.¡± He looked to Louisa and Juliette. ¡°While some of you found your way here under one circumstance or another.¡± His powerful gaze regarded Hunter and Marcus, then lingered on Marlon.

    Marlon pursed his lips in annoyance, but resisted the urge to tell the man to get on with it.

    ¡°Whatever your reasons, you¡¯re here now. I¡¯ve discussed this with you all individually, but I want to reiterate one more time: we are unlikely to return from this mission.¡± The aura in the room stirred at that¡ªnot with fear, but steady determination. ¡°But know that our sacrifice could very well mean the difference between our loved ones reaching the surface¡­or being incinerated by that monster.

    ¡°Which brings me to the even worse news.¡± His expression hardened, magic burning in his eyes. ¡°There is a traitor among the refugees feeding information to Qui Shen.¡±

    Juliette¡¯s gasp cut through the air like a knife, sharp and sudden. Marcus¡¯ eyes widened, deep furrows appearing on his forehead. Louisa remained unmoved, but her knuckles turned white as she clenched her skirt.

    Only Hunter seemed unsurprised by the news¡ªtypical of the mind readers to know things before everyone else.

    Not that Marlon himself was that taken aback. In a group of thousands, the chances of a sellout coward were greater than not.

    A moment of stunned silence followed. Then, Juliette broke it.

    ¡°Do-do we know who¡ª?¡±

    She cut off as Terraform shook his head.

    ¡°We know it¡¯s someone who was present during the evacuation debrief. Shortly after I informed them of our intention to intercept Qui Shen, I felt their forces divert. The timing was too coincidental.¡±

    ¡°Rupert?¡± Marcus asked quietly.

    Terraform hesitated before answering. ¡°I can¡¯t be certain. I¡¯ve informed Sol, but Hunter wasn¡¯t able to get a read on Rupert. Sol¡¯s on guard and should be able to handle him¡ªor whoever the traitor is.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s even one person,¡± Louisa added with a grunt.

    Terraform nodded sadly. ¡°Even so, there¡¯s no way to contain prisoners while they evacuate and we couldn¡¯t bring them with us.¡±

    Marlon scoffed¡ªwhich he immediately regretted, because all eyes cut toward him suddenly.

    ¡°Coulda just executed him and been done with it,¡± he said with a shrug.

    Everyone was thinking it anyway, right?

    Terraform blinked, his jaw tightening, his voice soft. ¡°You know that¡¯s not how I operate, Marlon.¡±

    Marlon waved away the reply. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Just thinking out loud.¡±

    Terraform pursed his lips with displeasure before continuing.

    ¡°Regardless, what¡¯s done is done. Now, the next item of business. I passed the Singularity to Sol. His primary mission is to get the civilians to safety but should that become impossible¡­his priority will be to keep the Singularity from Qui Shen.¡± Terraform¡¯s eyes burned as they cut across the room, lingering lastly on Louisa, whose entire family was among the evacuees. ¡°By any means necessary.¡±

    She stared back, her face hardened, cut from granite. After a moment, she nodded subtly.

    Marcus lightly cleared his throat and all eyes turned to him. His voice was low, but steady.

    ¡°Can we trust him to do what needs to be done?¡± He looked around in question. ¡°He put on a strong front, but I sensed his turmoil. And if I did, so did others.¡±

    Terraform nodded, looking to Hunter expectantly.

    The Hypnotist folded his hands in his lap, a thoughtful expression on his face. Marlon thought it a pretty simple question with a pretty simple answer. But he had never known Hunter to answer a question without careful consideration.

    ¡°His imprisonment with the Fairways has had a significant psychological toll on him. Coupled with the death of his team¡­much of his identity has been called into question. In my opinion, adopting a leadership role, being responsible for the wellbeing of others¡­it¡¯s a risk. It could help him heal or it could break him down even further.¡±

    ¡°That was a long-winded way of saying you¡¯re not sure,¡± Louisa growled, her lips curling into an unimpressed sneer. She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as though daring anyone to challenge her assertion.

    Marlon couldn¡¯t help but agree with the surly old bat. She had a way of cutting through the fluff with brutal efficiency, a quality he grudgingly respected.

    Hunter nodded in an understanding way, which made Marlon¡¯s nose furl in irritation. The Hypnotist¡¯s unflappable patience irked him, especially in the face of what awaited them.

    ¡°Even with my magic, the human psyche is a complicated machine. I can only speculate¡­and hope.¡± Hunter¡¯s voice softened at the last word, a glimmer of empathy shining through his otherwise clinical demeanor. His thoughtful expression turned inward, as though wrestling with the complexities of the mind.

    An unsteady silence consumed the group for a few moments, each member lost in their thoughts. Juliette¡¯s fingers twitched nervously, her eyes clouded with concern. Marcus remained stoic, yet the tension in his jaw betrayed his inner turmoil. Louisa¡¯s gaze was sharp and probing, and Marlon could see her mind working behind those piercing eyes.

    Then, Terraform spoke, his powerful voice cutting through the silence and filling Marlon¡¯s tiny shop with an undeniable presence. ¡°We made a show of rising to meet Qui Shen. All of the Market saw us leave. Which means Qui Shen and Skipper will still be expecting us to intercept them through the earth.¡± He paused, looking them each in the eye, his confidence projecting through his gaze like a stabilizing force in the storm of uncertainty, drawing strength from their shared resolve.

    ¡°Which was why they¡¯ll be surprised when we ambush them through one of Marlon¡¯s portals.¡± Terraform¡¯s lips curled into a knowing smile, a hint of defiance glowing in his eyes. The plan was reckless, unpredictable, and entirely theirs.

    Marlon straightened in his chair, the weight in his chest lifting slightly. He caught Terraform¡¯s eye and gave him a nod, acknowledging the man¡¯s steady presence. Juliette¡¯s lips trembled into a faint smile, a spark of hope igniting in her eyes. Even Louisa¡¯s stern expression softened by a fraction, a silent acknowledgment of the stakes they faced together.

    ¡°Let¡¯s give them hell,¡± Marcus muttered, his voice quiet but resolute. It wasn¡¯t just a statement; it was a promise, a battle cry.

    The group shifted, a renewed energy crackling in the air. They were a ragtag assembly of misfits and outcasts, but in that moment, they were united by purpose. The weight of impending doom still hung over them, but now it shared space with something stronger¡ªdetermination.

    Terraform rose, his aura blazing like a star ready to go supernova. ¡°For the Market,¡± he declared.

    ¡°For the Market,¡± they echoed, the words resonating with a fierce, unyielding spirit. Even Marlon felt himself pulled along by the sheer magnetism of their leader, the words leaving his mouth of their own accord.

    And with that, the first¡ªand most likely last¡ªgathering of the Broken Pottery Club prepared to face their fate, ready to strike back against despair with all the courage and hope and trickery they had left.

 B2 - Chapter 12: Leaving the House

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, they¡¯ve shifted eight degrees that way!¡±

    The Elementalist gritted his teeth, reaching out with his aura once more to confirm. After a moment, he turned back with a smug expression that wasn¡¯t entirely unwarranted¡ªBloodhound had been pestering him for the better part of an hour.

    ¡°Sir, I understand you have powers beyond me. I¡¯m under no delusions on that front. But I know stone and this is the path they took¡ª¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡±

    Lady released her grip on his shoulder and the man shuddered as the wellspring of power was withdrawn. He looked toward her, just barely managing to keep the pleading expression off his face.

    Everything about her was intoxicating, her hair the color of sunlight, her clothes skintight yet elegant¡ªeven though he preferred the other sex, even he could appreciate her refined beauty.

    But what drew him in more than anything, was the power she imparted. When she touched him, amplified his power with her Skills, he felt like a god of the earth. The stone spoke to him, revealed its secrets like pillow talk among spent lovers. When she pulled away, he had to resist the urge to physically grab her hand¡ªjust for another glimpse into divinity.

    Then, she snapped her fingers imperiously and the spell was broken. Now, all he saw was a spoiled brat, used to getting her way with her looks and haughty attitude. The allure cracked, faded, then drained away entirely.

    ¡°Do another scrying,¡± she whined. ¡°I¡¯m sick of your bickering.¡±

    Bloodhound furled his nose, as if catching a bad smell. Then he closed his eyes. The Elementalist felt aura shift around the man. He didn¡¯t have the skill or perception to trace the flow, but it was obvious the man was doing another scrying¡ªor whatever Seers did.

    The Elementalist released his grip on the surrounding stone¡ªnow that Lady wasn¡¯t amplifying him, he didn¡¯t have the power to shift it¡ªand took the moment to himself.

    He¡¯d been going nonstop for hours and even with a high-ranking Amplifier juicing him up, it was mentally exhausting work.

    Across the small tunnel they were perched in, Tinker stirred inside his power armor. He hadn¡¯t spoken or moved in two hours, presumably working on some project internally¡ªor just taking a nap.

    But he rose to his feet with a mechanical whir, his fury somehow obvious in the lilt of his posture despite the blank-faced power armor hiding his face.

    ¡°Frank, why have we stopped!¡±

    The Elementalist flinched, then cast a pleading look toward Lady.

    You explain it, princess.

    She sighed, striding toward Tinker with a swaying of hips. Somehow, Frank didn¡¯t imagine the sashay had much effect on the Artificer. Boys and their toys seemed to sum up the Council super quite accurately. If her feminine charm did have any grip on the man, his power armor hid it.

    ¡°Tink, darling, our compatriots are feuding.¡± She looked over to Frank and narrowed her eyes, obviously at a loss for a moment. On a hunch, he activated his System tag, flashing his name for a brief moment. Her surprise registered for only a glimpse before she continued on seamlessly, as if she had never needed the reminder. ¡°Frank here is following the trail their Elementalist took. While our dear Bloodhound senses them in a slightly different direction.¡±

    Tinker eyed the two of them for a moment, his blank metal face turning to Frank, then back to Bloodhound.

    ¡°What do you see, Ryan?¡±

    Bloodhound held up a finger, his eyes closed. Frank tried to open his senses wider to get a glimpse at what the man was doing, but he was only a D-ranker and had never truly applied himself, if he were being honest. Had no interest in being a¡­superhero. Only reason he was here was the Council paid well and on time.

    A couple seconds passed and Frank shifted awkwardly. Why had he even bothered arguing with the man? What did he care?

    When Bloodhound finally opened his eyes, red fire swirled in his eyes. Those red eyes turned toward Frank and he felt his heart clench involuntarily, like he was staring into the mouth of a tiger. But they shifted away a moment later and he sucked in a deep breath.

    ¡°Frank is correct, they took this path on their way down.¡± Lady¡¯s eyebrows rose in surprise and Frank couldn¡¯t help but feel his own thoughts echoing that expression. An A-ranker willing to eat crow? That was a first. ¡°I¡¯d wager they¡¯re on their way back to the surface, taking a slightly altered path,¡± Bloodhound continued. ¡°If we divert, we should intercept in a couple hours.¡±

    Tinker nodded, his armor shifting back into a dormant stance.

    His mechanical voice echoed out. ¡°Do it.¡±

    Frank shrugged, realizing he didn¡¯t care one way or the other.

    Just collect that paycheck and get home to Collin. Leave the specifics to the S- and A-rankers.

    A few seconds passed before he realized Bloodhound, Lady, and the fireteam idly playing cards in the corner were all staring toward him. He flinched under their collective gazes, turning back to his task.

    As he stirred his aura, he realized what he was missing. He cast a pleading glance over his shoulder.

    ¡°Uh¡­would you mind?¡±

    Lady sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes as she strode over. She placed a hand on his shoulder¡ªalmost reluctantly, as if touching him would lessen her in some way.

    Turning back so that none of them could see him, he did his own eye roll, then stirred his magic.

    I need a vacation¡­

    <hr>

    The evacuees settled into a placid sort of panic. There was palpable tension in the air, reflected in the quiet but insistent murmurs infecting the large group. But everyone kept their voices low, almost as if Qui Shen himself might hear them.

    Sol ranged amongst the group numbering in the thousands, radiating a soft glow¡ªperhaps unconsciously. Like moths to the flame, he drew attention wherever he roamed, speaking soft but confident words wherever he was met with panic.

    As Terraform¡¯s group of apprentices ferried the large stone platform through the earth, the realization began to settle in that there was nothing to be done but hurry up and wait. Terry had given up on trying to corral Marlon¡¯s cats and instead turned his attention to the aura snapshot he had taken of Marmalade.

    It was the first time he was truly utilizing a snapshot and the difference between it and a living being¡¯s aura were subtle but noticeable.

    Or maybe the difference was that this was a cat¡¯s aura¡­

    Either way, he dove into the snapshot, working to catalog it as if it were a living aura.

    At first, it appeared relatively mundane. There was nothing specific about the snapshot that drew his eye and it had significantly less complexity than an E-ranked Skill¡¯s mold, let alone a D-ranked mold.

    But after staring at it¡ªwith both his eyes and his senses¡ªlong enough to go cross-eyed, he recognized something that pulled at his intuition. Unlike when he was cataloging a person¡¯s aura while they engaged a Skill, the snapshot seemed dormant¡ªalmost inert.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    And that¡¯s exactly what it was!

    The snapshot was inert, because Marmalade hadn¡¯t been actively engaging in a Skill when he¡¯d taken the snapshot. He needed an active example¡­and he knew exactly how to get that.

    Climbing to his feet, he began scanning around the crowd for a specific four-legged specimen. The cats had initially scattered upon their arrival and Terry¡¯s rough attempts to capture them had only spread them out wider. But as it became clear there was nowhere for them to flee, they¡¯d slowly began to congregate together in the same general vicinity.

    As he spotted the diffuse gathering of cats, he activated Master of Light and went nearly invisible¡ªonly his eyes were unaffected so that he could still see.

    A small child audibly gasped as he disappeared, pulling on her mother¡¯s clothes insistently. But her cries of alarm were quickly shushed and the poor girl resigned herself to being dismissed, even as her gaze tracked wide to find the invisible man.

    He chuckled quietly to himself, stepping lightly as he approached. Cats were strange in what they seemed to pick up on. Sometimes, they had a preternatural sense of danger in their surroundings. Other times, they were shocked by their own reflection.

    So Terry pulled his aura in, tiptoeing his way into range of Marmalade, who lounged near the middle of the pack like a king lion among his pride. Slowly, carefully, he stepped between the outer circle of cats, his shoes crunching ever so lightly against the loose stone of the platform.

    He was only a few steps from Marmalade, when a nearby cat perked up, then began hissing in his direction. Marmalade also shot up and Terry frantically readied his Skill. As he released his invisibility, the entire herd of cats burst into frenzied panic, launching in every direction of the compass in a scramble so coordinated in its chaos that it almost seemed preplanned.

    But only one of the cats had the ability to teleport.

    As Marmalade¡¯s aura activated, tracing back to Marlon deep through the earth, Terry also activated his aura, timing it perfectly.

    The cat disappeared in a flash, but Terry didn¡¯t mind. He¡¯d gotten what he needed. He let Master of Light go and pulled up the aura snapshots.

    As he sat down in place to begin studying, he noticed a couple dirty looks from the nearby folks who had been startled by the cat stampede. His shoulders shot up to his ears as he cringed.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± he mouthed, holding a hand up.

    When it seemed he had mostly shed the heat of what must have appeared to be a juvenile prank, he turned his attention back to the molds.

    He was able to summon them from his mind, as if projecting them before him holographically. They shifted and turned with mental cues, allowing him to match them up based on orientation.

    Right away, he recognized a noticeable difference between the two and he smiled, pleased that his hunch had been rewarded.

    But the two molds alone didn¡¯t give him much to go off, unless he started manipulating his own aura from scratch until he found the triggers. So he pulled up a third mold¡ªthat of his portal ability, the very Skill he had learned from Marlon. It stood to reason that if Marlon had injected a portal Skill into Marmalade¡¯s aura, then it was the same Skill he had taught Terry.

    Wielding the three separate molds in his mind, he began the tedious work of comparing them until he could map out all the anomalies.

    <hr>

    It was another hour before Marlon sensed Skipper within his reach. Another hour of constant attacks and intrusions into Market space. He wasn¡¯t drained per se¡ªhe still had the spatial advantage over Skipper given their relative proximities. But there was aura drain and then there was mental drain.

    And as much as he hated to admit it, he hadn¡¯t exercised that specific trait in many years.

    Still, it was a matter of pride¡ªperhaps pure stubbornness¡ªthat pushed him onward.

    I ain¡¯t letting that talentless hack beat me.

    When he finally felt Skipper close enough to strike back, he felt a renewed vigor take hold of him.

    ¡°They¡¯re in range,¡± he grunted, rolling his shoulders to loosen the tightening muscles. ¡°Tell me when.¡±

    The group had been engaged in quiet discussion out of earshot so as not to distract him. But at his words, all discussion cut off as the enormity of the situation took hold of them.

    Terraform stood up a bit straighter, his eyes as steady as the earth that he controlled.

    ¡°It¡¯s not too late for a change of heart.¡± Those eyes swept across the group, seeming to bore into each of them and all of them at the same time. ¡°Marlon can still send you ahead to join the evacuation group.¡±

    Louisa scoffed derisively, lifting her chin as if to look down upon the suggestion. Marcus simply straightened his posture, stirring his aura in preparation. Juliette took a step closer to her mentor, their auras mingling comfortably. Hunter didn¡¯t react at all, his eyes never leaving Terraform for a moment.

    And Marlon had turned away, ignoring the suggestion entirely. Not like he had anything better to do.

    A smile touched Terraform¡¯s lips at their reactions and a moment later, he chuckled dryly.

    ¡°Well, can¡¯t fault me for trying.¡±

    ¡°Sure I can,¡± Louisa groused. ¡°Ain¡¯t gettin¡¯ any younger over here. Let¡¯s go poke this bastard in the eye before I die of old age.¡±

    For once, Marlon agreed with the old grouch.

    Terraform nodded, then strode over to where Marlon sat.

    ¡°You ready, old friend?¡± he asked softly.

    Marlon sighed, feeling the weight suddenly intensify on his shoulders. With a grunt, he rose from the chair, the wicker groaning as if in relief.

    ¡°Been twenty years to prepare, I suppose,¡± he growled, though he couldn¡¯t muster the accompanying heat to his voice. ¡°Now¡¯s good a time as any.¡±

    Terraform met his eye, a deep power resting there, dormant, but slowly awakening, like a dragon stirred from slumber.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s begin.¡±

    Marlon split space quietly, returning his six wicker chairs to the closet, then crunched across the broken pottery toward the front of the shop.

    He lingered at the doorway, staring out at the alley that had been his constant view for twenty years.

    A notification pinged in his vision and he growled in annoyance.

    Midmark Quest Given: [Leave the Shop]

    Simply leave your shop.

    Reward: C-rank

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± he muttered, waving away the message.

    Taking a steadying breath, he closed his eyes and stepped onto the cobblestone. Power engulfed him, wrapped him in a mother¡¯s embrace. He fought it at first on pure instinct. It simply held him tight, understanding, grace transmitted through that connection.

    After a moment, he let go, releasing his anger and bitterness and resistance.

    When he opened his eyes, he wasn¡¯t in his alley anymore.

    Tears pushed their way through as he took in the familiar living room. The coffee table they¡¯d picked out together, the rug Lily had stained the first day they¡¯d laid it out, the dining table tucked against the wall, the high chair beside it.

    And at the table, sat Marissa, a spoon airplaning its way toward Lily¡¯s mouth.

    He knew logically that this wasn¡¯t his family¡ªthey were long dead and no level of magic or eldritch fuckery could bring them back. But the animal side of his brain didn¡¯t care. Decades of repressed love¡ªemotions he thought he¡¯d killed but had apparently just buried deep¡ªfought past all his carefully constructed defenses.

    Time passed and he didn¡¯t dare move a muscle, infect the beautiful memory with his slovenly presence. Shame filled him then, knowing exactly what Marissa would have said if she¡¯d seen how he looked, how he lived.

    But then, she glanced up and her smile lit up the room, her eyes finding him, wrinkling at the edges with a love so pure he couldn¡¯t bear it.

    The image froze, a magical tableau locked in a single, beautiful moment. He cried ugly tears, feeling the weight of twenty years slough off his back like old skin.

    He wasn¡¯t aware how long he stood there, sobbing like a fool. But eventually, the heaviness of that past flowed beyond him, leaving him raw, but also healed.

    The thing behind him was like a beacon to his senses, but he was grateful it hadn¡¯t intruded upon the moment. Now, though, he finally turned to address it.

    ¡°Thank you for that.¡±

    He was surprised to find he meant it. It had been so long since he¡¯d felt gratitude that the feeling was almost as alien to him as the creature standing before him.

    ¡°I¡¯m just sorry I couldn¡¯t give you that sooner,¡± it replied.

    He nodded, turning his attention away from the family he¡¯d lost, focusing fully on his Waker.

    It assumed a blank, humanoid body¡ªit knew better than to pervert Marissa¡¯s memory by trying to mimic her. In contrast to its bland appearance though, was its towering presence. He remembered being in awe when he¡¯d Awakened, but had possessed no context. Its aura was big, that was all he knew.

    But he¡¯d grown up since then, witnessed titans of the earthly realm, seen power that could crater major cities. Terraform himself was a man closer to a god than a mortal.

    And yet, the Waker¡¯s presence was like a fixture of nature itself in comparison. Comparing it to Terraform was like comparing the sun to a light bulb. Even in his memories, he hadn¡¯t remembered it being so incomprehensibly vast.

    ¡°You¡¯re bigger than I remember,¡± he eventually said, a slight note of complaint in his voice.

    The Waker chuckled lightly, shrugging in a very human way.

    ¡°You too,¡± it replied wryly.

    Marlon gaped, his eyes widening in surprise.

    ¡°A fat joke¡­seriously?¡±

    ¡°Just trying to lighten the mood.¡±

    Its blank expression and deadpan delivery was so incongruous that he couldn¡¯t help but see the comedy in it all. He snorted humorously, shaking his head.

    ¡°What the hell are you?¡±

    The line of questioning might have seemed tangential to the creature, but if it was surprised, it didn¡¯t show it.

    ¡°I¡¯m the Weaver, Marlon. And I¡¯m one of the powers holding back the chaos that threatens this universe.¡±

    He might have scoffed at the grandiose declaration, but he felt its aura like a physical sensation, a gust of wind imparted with pure emotion and power. And its sincerity was impossible to dismiss.

    It took a step closer now, reaching out a hand for his shoulder.

    ¡°It¡¯s time you rejoined the fight, Marlon. Your world needs you.¡±

    Power infused his body and mind, sharp waves of pain and pleasure intermingling into a heady cocktail that made him woozy and disoriented.

    When it passed some unknown amount of time later, he opened his eyes, finding himself back in his alleyway.

    Notifications danced across his vision.

    Quest Complete: [Leave your Shop]

    C-rank achieved! Status Sheet updated!

 B2 - Chapter 13: Cat Whisperer

    Waves of power rolled into Marlon, drowning his senses, filling him until he felt fit to burst.

    He heard voices but the words wouldn¡¯t matriculate in his brain, dull sounds rather than coherent sentences.

    Space expanded before him like never before and though he didn¡¯t find latent secrets revealed by his rank up, his range did expand tenfold. All around him, he felt the planes of existence, layered like cloth, just waiting to be coaxed into various shapes and configurations.

    In the distance, he felt the modifications he¡¯d made to his cats¡ªthe subtle pull on his aura, the connection stretching taut, now given new life with his influx of power. He consoled himself with the knowledge that they were making good time and putting dozens of miles between them and the Market.

    If Qui Shen made it past them, the evacuation would be a hundred miles away and nearly impossible to pinpoint through the dense stone.

    Now, it was up to them to bloody the bastard¡¯s nose and if possible, end his existence forever.

    As he finally acclimated to his expanded senses, his mundane senses began to return to the forefront. The notifications in his vision pulled his attention first, but he dismissed them immediately; what use did he have for System-granted Skills or notifications about his Class? He was a Traveler still¡ªdidn¡¯t need no notification to know that. And every Skill he used, he did by feel¡ªnot the training wheels offered by his System.

    Next, he focused on the words that had sounded like they¡¯d traveled through water.

    ¡°Did it work?¡± a deep voice asked.

    ¡°Yes, he¡¯s back with us now.¡±

    Marcus and Juliette, he realized.

    He turned to face the five of them, forcing a scowl on his face out of habit more than anything else.

    ¡°Course I¡¯m back. Can¡¯t a man take a minute to acclimate?¡±

    Terraform stood apart, his eyes closed. At Marlon¡¯s words, his face etched with concern. He turned to the group, his voice grave.

    ¡°They¡¯ve split their forces. Qui Shen and Skipper are taking different paths.¡±

    The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling on everyone¡¯s shoulders. Marlon leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while the others exchanged worried glances.

    Terraform paced, his mind racing. ¡°This confirms our suspicions. There¡¯s a traitor among the evacuees. How else would they know to split up?¡±

    Marcus stepped forward. ¡°What¡¯s our move, then?¡±

    Terraform hesitated, weighing their options. ¡°I believe Qui Shen is heading to intercept the evacuees. He must suspect the Singularity is with them. Skipper seems to be making for the Market itself with a smaller force.¡±

    He turned to face the group. ¡°We need to intercept Qui Shen.¡±

    Marcus frowned. ¡°What about Skipper? If we leave the Market unattended, he¡¯ll portal in, see it¡¯s been drained, and link up with Qui Shen.¡±

    Terraform¡¯s eyes flicked toward Marlon, who snorted, pushing off from the wall. ¡°I¡¯m staying obviously.¡±

    The room fell silent again, all eyes on the cantankerous man.

    ¡°I¡¯m just a decoy anyway,¡± Marlon continued. ¡°Who cares if they take the Market now? They already suspect the Singularity isn¡¯t here.¡±

    Terraform opened his mouth to argue, but Marlon cut him off.

    ¡°You need every chance you can get against Qui Shen. Don¡¯t waste time trying to save a doomed fool.¡±

    The others looked to Terraform, waiting for his decision. He sighed, rubbing his temples.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he admitted reluctantly. ¡°We can¡¯t afford for Skipper to link up with Qui Shen.¡± He turned to Marlon. ¡°Are you sure about this? He won¡¯t be alone.¡±

    Marlon waved a dismissive hand. ¡°I¡¯ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. Besides, someone¡¯s gotta make sure they don¡¯t get any bright ideas about following you lot.¡±

    Terraform nodded, a hint of admiration in his eyes. ¡°Good luck, Marlon. And... it¡¯s been an honor knowing you.¡±

    Marlon grunted, turning away to hide the flicker of emotion that crossed his face.

    Terraform addressed the group. ¡°We move now. Every second counts.¡±

    As the others filed out, Terraform paused at the door, looking back at Marlon. The man stood alone in his shop, surrounded by the detritus of his life¡¯s work. For a moment, Terraform saw not the gruff, irritable Traveler, but a man who had lost everything and was now preparing to make his last stand.

    ¡°Marlon,¡± Terraform said softly. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this.¡±

    Marlon turned, a wry smile on his face. ¡°Course I do. Now get out of here before I change my mind and decide to come with you after all.¡±

    Terraform nodded, a lump in his throat. He stepped out, closing the door behind him.

    Outside, the others waited. Marcus stood like a sentinel. Hunter¡¯s eyes darted about, always alert, always watching. Louisa¡¯s face was set in grim determination, while Juliette fidgeted nervously with the hem of her sleeve.

    ¡°Everyone ready?¡± Terraform asked.

    They nodded, a unified front against the coming storm.

    ¡°Then let¡¯s move. We have a long way to go and not much time.¡±

    As they set off, Terraform couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that they were leaving Marlon to die. But there was no time for second thoughts. Qui Shen was out there, hunting their people, and they were the only ones who could stop him.

    Back in the shop, Marlon took a deep breath, centering himself. He could feel the tremors of Skipper¡¯s approach, the fabric of space twisting and warping. He closed his eyes, reaching out with his newly expanded senses, feeling the layers of reality around him.

    ¡°Alright, you bastard,¡± he muttered. ¡°Let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got.¡±

    He began to weave his defenses, preparing for the battle to come. The air crackled with energy as he worked, bending space to his will. To his senses, it was clear the continuous attacks were getting stronger, Skipper coming closer with every second.

    Marlon opened his eyes, a fierce grin spreading across his face. For the first time in years, he felt truly alive. Whatever happened next, he was ready.

    <hr>

    Terry worked for nearly an hour before he had cataloged the differences between Marmalade¡¯s active and passive aura mold. But after the mind-numbing work he¡¯d done cataloging D-ranked Skills, this felt like light work.

    With that out of the way, he turned his attention to his portal mold and began comparing the delta between Marmalade¡¯s auras and his Skill. He didn¡¯t quite know what the end goal was; he couldn¡¯t exactly experiment on himself since he already had the portal mold Affixed to his aura and that sounded like a dangerous path to take regardless. Who knew what kind of damage he could end up doing? Yet he wasn¡¯t keen on the idea of animal experimentation. He didn¡¯t have years of experimenting on pottery like Marlon to vet his ideas.

    Inanimate objects it is.

    The silver bracelet he¡¯d received from his grandfather was a good candidate. He could already manipulate it with his telekinesis, so being able to portal them around without activating his own Skill would be useful. An idea tickled at him¡ªcreating kinetic-sensing shield walls by anchoring his metal telekinesis into steel plates. But that was ages away.

    For now, he would be content just to mimic Marmalade¡¯s portal ability.

    As he examined the delta in Marmalade¡¯s two auras, he found folds and nodules that appeared on the surface to match up with his portal mold. But they were intricate, weaving throughout the mold, challenging to hold the mental image in his mind.

    After a frustrating twenty minutes, he decided to just work live and see what happened. It wasn¡¯t a strategy that lent itself well to exactitude, but gave him a more freehanded approach that was more interesting and less mentally draining.

    Another ten minutes passed when his attention was pulled away by footsteps behind him. He didn¡¯t release the molds at first, then realized that whoever it was had come for him. Looking up, he spotted Tania staring down at him, a curious expression on her face.

    He realized that he hadn¡¯t checked on her since the initial evacuation, hadn¡¯t helped to acclimate her to her Awakening. Instead, he¡¯d thrown himself into distraction selfishly.

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    ¡°Hey,¡± he said, feeling a bit chagrined.

    ¡°Wow. Is this what you¡¯ve been doing all that time with your mother¡¯s roses?¡±

    He was thrown off a bit by the oblique line of questioning, but she lowered herself into a cross-legged sit beside him, adopting an easy posture.

    ¡°Well, uh¡­yeah. Can you see what I¡¯m doing?¡±

    She squinted her eyes, looking him up and down.

    ¡°Not now¡ªI¡¯m guessing you stopped. But I did see something around your aura. Like you were moving pieces around or something.¡±

    He was surprised by that; she must have had advanced aura Attributes to be able to pick up on that at the F-rank. By all accounts, he¡¯d possessed unusually high ranks himself, and would have had trouble spotting the work he was doing.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that interesting,¡± he said quickly. ¡°Boring stuff, actually.¡±

    She scowled, looking around. ¡°What the hell else I¡¯m s¡¯pose to do? You forget, this aura business is new to me. Just¡ª¡± She bit her lip and he could tell there was something churning under the surface, but he couldn¡¯t quite read her expression. Shaking her head, she stood up. ¡°Nevermind.¡±

    He reached out, grabbing her hand lightly.

    ¡°Hey, I wasn¡¯t trying to get rid of you¡­¡± She hesitated, looking down at where his hand gripped hers. Realizing what he was doing, he let go in a rush. ¡°I-I¡¯ll tell you about it¡­if you want?¡±

    Her eyebrows rose, then a genuine smile touched her lips.

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯d be nice.¡±

    As she sat back down, he began to explain all about his abilities, how he learned them, what he¡¯d been doing with Marlon the last few times he¡¯d visited.

    When he was done, she leaned back for a minute, processing it all.

    Then, a familiar look entered her eyes¡ªa look that had almost always spelled trouble for him in the past.

    ¡°Experiment on me,¡± she said softly.

    He shook his head, wondering if he¡¯d misheard her.

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    She nodded rapidly. ¡°Yeah, experiment on me!¡±

    ¡°Tania¡­¡±

    ¡°Hear me out!¡± She stood up and started pacing. ¡°I¡¯m a Seer, right? I can sense things, feel when they¡¯ll go bad.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not¡ª¡±

    She whirled on him, her face pinched tight.

    ¡°I said hear me out!¡±

    She studied his face a moment, seeing if he¡¯d interrupt. He wanted to shut down this line of thinking; didn¡¯t feel remotely comfortable with the idea. But he also knew that Tania wasn¡¯t the type of person you said no to¡ªit only made her more likely to do something stupid.

    So he kept his lips shut, though he felt a bit of his annoyance translate to the slow blink of his eyes. She seemed to pick up on that annoyance, sucking at her teeth, the wind going out of her sails.

    ¡°I have a type of danger sense, Terry. I¡¯ll know if something you¡¯re about to do is gonna hurt me.¡±

    His ears perked up at that. ¡°Oh? That sounds pretty cool. Tell me about it.¡±

    She seemed to take that as him letting his guard down, her eyes going animated again. He quickly put his hands up.

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying I¡¯m cool with messing with your aura. Just¡­I wanna hear about your new powers.¡±

    Despite putting the brakes on her, she seemed irrationally hopeful, plopping down into a seat as she spoke.

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty sweet, actually. Not portal-sweet, but I can see it being useful in fights and stuff. Basically, I have a passive Skill that only works for me. It¡¯s strange but¡­here, let me just read the description to you.¡±

    Terry settled back, glad the topic had shifted to something a bit more comfortable.

    Her eyes went out of focus, like she was reading from her interface.

    ¡°Danger Sense ¡ª Personal. Passively scan the ebbs and flows of aura around you. Indicates when hostile attention is directed toward you or when life-threatening events will occur within your vicinity. Note: Aura can be obscured or unreadable, negating this Skill. This Skill will naturally rank up as your rank increases.¡± She looked up, waving away the message absentmindedly. ¡°Pretty neat, huh?¡±

    Terry nodded. It was pretty awesome.

    ¡°It ranks up with you, too? Nice.¡±

    ¡°Is that uncommon?¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°I learned an Upgradeable Skill from Marlon, but Silver told me that¡¯s the sign of a master. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s normal, no.¡±

    She smiled, preening theatrically. ¡°Guess the¡ª¡± Her eyes went out of focus again and she scowled. System notification, presumably. ¡°The System knows a master when it sees one.¡±

    Terry scoffed. ¡°More like your System knew you were a master at getting into trouble. Knew you¡¯d need a master-level Skill to stay out of it.¡±

    She let out a snort of amusement and gave his arm a gentle smack. But her demeanor shifted almost immediately, taking on a solemn expression.

    ¡°My other Skill is interesting, too,¡± she said, voice low.

    ¡°Oh?¡± He was thrown by her tone. She almost sounded¡­embarrassed.

    Tania¡¯s gaze dropped to her hands, fidgeting in her lap. ¡°It¡¯s called Aura Entanglement. It¡¯s... different.¡±

    Terry leaned forward, intrigued by her sudden shift in demeanor. ¡°How so?¡±

    She took a deep breath. ¡°It lets me connect my aura to someone else¡¯s. Like, really connect. Across any distance.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°That sounds powerful. What exactly can you do with it?¡±

    ¡°Well, once I¡¯m entangled with someone, I always know if they¡¯re in trouble. I can feel glimpses of where they are, what they¡¯re feeling.¡± She paused, her voice dropping lower. ¡°It seems intense. Like¡­intrusive.¡±

    Terry whistled softly. ¡°Wow. That¡¯s... that¡¯s something else, Tania. Have you tried it yet?¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°Not yet. Feels like I¡¯d be spying on someone.¡±

    Terry nodded, understanding her hesitation. ¡°Yeah, I can see how that¡¯d be a lot to handle.¡±

    Tania¡¯s eyes suddenly lit up, that familiar mischievous glint returning. ¡°But you know what? I just had an idea.¡±

    Terry groaned internally, knowing whatever was coming next would likely be trouble.

    ¡°What if we used it on one of Marlon¡¯s cats?¡± Tania suggested, her excitement building. ¡°That way, we could experiment with your anchoring ability without risking anyone getting hurt.¡±

    Terry blinked, surprised by the suggestion. It wasn¡¯t as reckless as he¡¯d feared. ¡°I¡¯m not sure...¡±

    ¡°Think about it,¡± Tania pressed on. ¡°You could try manipulating the cat¡¯s aura into the shape you saw in Marmalade¡¯s aura. If it works, we¡¯d know you can anchor abilities without hurting anyone.¡±

    Terry had to admit, the idea had merit. It was certainly safer than experimenting on a person. ¡°And if it does work?¡± he asked, already suspecting her answer.

    Tania¡¯s eyes gleamed. ¡°Then you try it on me.¡±

    Terry shook his head. ¡°Tania, that¡¯s way too risky. We don¡¯t know what could happen.¡±

    ¡°But that¡¯s where my Danger Sense comes in,¡± she countered. ¡°I¡¯ll know if something¡¯s about to go wrong. We¡¯ll have a safety net.¡±

    Terry mulled it over. The idea was tempting, but the potential consequences terrified him. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Tania. It¡¯s one thing to experiment on a cat, but on you? That¡¯s a whole different level.¡±

    Tania reached out, placing her hand on his arm. ¡°Terry, think about what this could mean. If you can anchor abilities, you could help so many people. Maybe even find a way to protect us from Qui Shen and Skipper.¡±

    Her words hit home. Terry thought about Marlon, left behind to face those threats practically alone. If he could unlock this ability, maybe he could make a real difference.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he said slowly. ¡°We can try it with one of the cats. But that¡¯s it for now. We¡¯ll see how that goes before even considering anything else.¡±

    Tania beamed, practically bouncing with excitement. ¡°Great! Which cat should we use?¡±

    Terry looked around at the felines lounging nearby. His eyes settled on a fluffy orange tabby. ¡°That one. It reminds me of Marmalade.¡±

    Tania nodded and closed her eyes, concentrating. After a moment, she opened them, a look of wonder on her face. ¡°It¡¯s done. I can feel the cat. It¡¯s... content. Sleepy.¡±

    Terry took a deep breath, steeling himself. ¡°Alright. Here goes nothing.¡±

    He focused on the cat¡¯s aura, comparing it to the mental image he had of Marmalade¡¯s teleportation ability. Carefully, he began to manipulate the energy, folding and twisting it to match the patterns he¡¯d observed.

    Tania watched intently, her eyes darting between Terry and the cat. ¡°I can feel something changing,¡± she whispered. ¡°It¡¯s like... a ripple in the cat¡¯s aura.¡±

    Terry nodded, not breaking his concentration. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he worked, the delicate manipulations taxing his mental stamina.

    Suddenly, the cat¡¯s ears perked up. It looked around, confused, then darted off in a rush.

    Terry and Tania exchanged sheepish glances as they watched the orange tabby disappear around the legs of a few very surprised people.

    ¡°Well, that was dumb,¡± Terry muttered, running a hand through his hair. ¡°We should¡¯ve seen that coming.¡±

    Tania nodded, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ¡°Yeah, guess we got a bit ahead of ourselves there.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind raced, trying to salvage their experiment. ¡°Maybe we could catch one? Hold it still while I work?¡±

    As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how ridiculous that sounded. The image of them chasing cats around the evacuation area, causing a commotion, flashed through his mind. He could almost hear the disapproving chatter, questioning what the hell they were doing.

    ¡°Uh, nevermind,¡± he backpedaled quickly. ¡°That¡¯s probably not the best idea.¡±

    To his surprise, Tania¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Sit back. I¡¯ve got this.¡±

    She stood up, brushing off her pants, and began to look around. Her eyes settled on a fluffy white cat lounging nearby¡ªEleanor, judging by its System tag. Terry watched, bemused, as Tania¡¯s entire demeanor changed. Her usual brash confidence melted away, replaced by a gentleness he¡¯d never seen before.

    ¡°Here, kitty kitty,¡± she cooed softly, approaching the cat with slow, deliberate steps. ¡°It¡¯s okay, sweetheart. I¡¯m not gonna hurt you.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. Was this really Tania? The same girl who¡¯d once told Mesmer off and faced down vampires without batting an eye? He bit back a sarcastic comment, not wanting to break her concentration.

    To his amazement, the cat didn¡¯t bolt. Instead, it looked up at Tania with curious eyes as she knelt beside it. She held out her hand, letting the cat sniff her fingers. After a moment, the cat bumped its head against her palm, and Tania began to scratch behind its ears.

    ¡°That¡¯s a good kitty,¡± she murmured, her voice full of affection. ¡°You¡¯re such a pretty girl, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Terry watched, slack-jawed, as Tania scooped the cat into her arms. The feline settled against her chest, purring contentedly.

    ¡°Since when are you the cat whisperer?¡± Terry asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

    Tania shot him a look that was half-pride, half-defiance. ¡°I¡¯ve always loved cats, dummy. Just ¡®cause I don¡¯t go around advertising it doesn¡¯t mean it isn¡¯t true.¡±

    Terry nodded, filing away this new piece of information about his friend. He couldn¡¯t help but think sarcastically, ¡®Right, because nothing says cat lover like your usual tendency to solve problems with your fists.¡¯ But he knew better than to voice that thought aloud. Instead, he gestured to a spot near him.

    ¡°Well, cat whisperer, why don¡¯t you bring your new friend over here so we can try this again?¡±

    Tania settled down next to him, the white cat curled up in her lap. She stroked its fur gently, keeping it calm and relaxed.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Terry said, taking a deep breath. ¡°Let¡¯s give this another shot.¡±

    He closed his eyes, focusing on the cat¡¯s aura. It was different from the orange tabby¡¯s, but the basic structure was the same. He began to manipulate it, carefully folding and twisting the energy to match the patterns he¡¯d observed in Marmalade¡¯s teleportation ability.

    The work was delicate and exhausting. Sweat beaded on Terry¡¯s forehead as he concentrated, trying to maintain the intricate mental image while making the necessary adjustments. Time seemed to slow down, each second stretching out as he worked.

    Beside him, Tania remained uncharacteristically quiet, her attention split between the cat in her lap and monitoring Terry¡¯s progress through her newfound abilities.

    ¡°I can feel it changing,¡± she whispered after what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. ¡°It¡¯s like... ripples in a pond, but in the cat¡¯s aura.¡±

    Terry nodded slightly, not wanting to break his concentration. He could feel it too¡ªthe subtle shifts in the cat¡¯s energy as he manipulated it. It was doing something, that much was clear. But would it be what they expected?

    He pushed on, refining his technique with each passing moment. The cat remained calm in Tania¡¯s lap, seemingly unaware of the changes happening to its very essence.

    As Terry worked, he felt a growing sense of accomplishment. This was it¡ªhe was actually doing it. He was manipulating an aura, changing its fundamental structure. The implications were staggering, but he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing solely on the task at hand.

    Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Terry opened his eyes. He blinked, adjusting to the light, and looked down at the cat. It looked the same as before, still contentedly curled up in Tania¡¯s lap.

    ¡°Did it work?¡± Tania asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

    Terry took a deep breath, feeling the fatigue of his efforts settling into his bones. ¡°I... I think so. But we won¡¯t know for sure until we test it.¡±

    Tania nodded, her eyes shining with excitement and anticipation. ¡°So, what now?¡±

    ¡°Now,¡± Terry said, leaning back and stretching his tired muscles, ¡°we give it a little fright. See if we¡¯ve managed to give this cat the ability to teleport.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 14: Unexpected Visitors

    Terry and Tania exchanged a nervous glance as they prepared to test their handiwork. Tania gently set Eleanor down on the stone floor, her fingers lingering for a moment in its soft fur.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Terry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

    Tania nodded, her eyes fixed on the cat. ¡°As ready as I¡¯ll ever be.¡±

    Terry took a deep breath, centering himself. He raised his hand, palm up, and focused on his Master of Light Skill. Energy tingled through his fingertips as he shaped it, preparing a small but startling burst of light.

    The cat sat peacefully, its tail swishing lazily across the floor, blinking up at them with innocent eyes.

    ¡°Here goes nothing,¡± Terry muttered.

    In a quick motion, he released the energy he¡¯d been holding. A bright flash erupted from his palm, flaring in front of the cat¡¯s eyes.

    It¡¯s reaction was instantaneous. Its eyes widened in shock, and its fur stood on end. It let out a startled yowl, its body tensing. In a blur of motion, it bolted across the stone floor, darting between the legs of nearby refugees. Terry¡¯s heart sank as he watched the feline disappear into the crowd without a trace of teleportation.

    ¡°Well, that was anticlimactic,¡± Terry sighed, shoulders slumping. He ran a hand through his hair. ¡°I really thought we¡¯d done it.¡±

    Tania stood up, brushing cat hair from her pants. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t beat yourself up.¡± She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say Marlon¡¯s been working on this for twenty years? Give yourself more than twenty minutes.¡±

    Terry nodded, trying to keep the discouragement from his voice. ¡°I know, I just... I thought I understood it. I was so sure I¡¯d replicated Marmalade¡¯s aura pattern correctly.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you did,¡± Tania said, her brow furrowing in thought. ¡°But there could be other factors we¡¯re not considering. What if the cat needs to be trained? Needs to consciously trigger it?¡±

    Terry perked up slightly at her suggestions. ¡°That¡¯s a good point actually.¡±

    Tania grinned, her enthusiasm infectious. ¡°Those are the only kinda points I make! Come on, let¡¯s go wrangle her and try again. You can do this.¡±

    Terry couldn¡¯t help but smile at her optimism. ¡°Fine, fine. You go. I¡¯ll just get in your way and spook the whole herd.¡±

    After a few minutes of determined effort, Tania managed to coax Eleanor out from her hiding spot behind a stack of supplies. Terry watched from a distance, surprised at this version of Tania. Her voice was gentle, her tone patient, and with seemingly no effort, she was able to approach the cat without startling it.

    ¡°There you go, sweetheart,¡± Tania murmured, her fingers lightly scratching behind the cat¡¯s ears. ¡°No one¡¯s gonna hurt you.¡±

    Terry watched in amazement as Tania scooped up the cat and cradled it against her chest. The animal, which had been so skittish just moments ago, now seemed content in her arms.

    ¡°I swear, Tania, you¡¯ve got some kind of cat-whisperer ability you¡¯re not telling me about,¡± Terry said, shaking his head in disbelief.

    Tania chuckled softly, careful not to disturb the cat. ¡°Nah, just been around a lotta cats. My grandma had a whole clowder of these little guys.¡±

    Terry stared back blankly.

    ¡°A¡­clowder?¡±

    She settled back down on the floor, gently arranging Eleanor in her lap. It kneaded her thighs for a moment before curling up, its tail wrapping around its body. She glanced up, nodding.

    ¡°It¡¯s a group of cats.¡±

    Terry knelt beside them, moving slowly.

    ¡°Okay, admit it, you made that word up.¡±

    She chuckled lightly. ¡°Nope, it¡¯s legit.¡±

    He shook his head, turning back to the task at hand. His brow furrowed in concentration as he steadied himself to make another attempt. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The sounds of the refugees around them faded into the background as he turned his focus to the cat in her arms.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he said quietly, opening his eyes. ¡°I think I¡¯m ready to try again.¡±

    Tania nodded, her hand resting lightly on the cat¡¯s back. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on its aura, see if I can spot any changes.¡±

    Terry raised his hands, holding them just above the cat without touching it. He could sense Eleanor¡¯s aura, a soft, pulsing energy that seemed to radiate contentment. Carefully, he began to examine the aura, trying to match the patterns he¡¯d made to Marmalade¡¯s.

    As he worked, Terry felt a bead of sweat form on his brow. He spent as long as he needed, isolating every little fold, shift, and node in the cat¡¯s aura, comparing them to the molds in his mind.

    As he delved deeper into the intricacies of the aura, he noticed something new, something he¡¯d missed before. There was a subtle difference in the way the energy flowed through certain nodes. In Marmalade¡¯s aura, there had been movement in these nodes, pulsing with a rhythmic energy, almost like a heartbeat. But in his current test subject, these same nodes were static, lacking that vital pulse.

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    Terry¡¯s eyes snapped open, a spark of realization igniting within him. ¡°I think I¡¯ve got it,¡± he whispered, careful not to startle the cat.

    Tania leaned in, her voice low. ¡°What is it?¡±

    Terry¡¯s brow furrowed as he searched for the right words. ¡°There¡¯s a... rhythm to it. In Marmalade¡¯s aura, certain points pulse with energy. But in this cat, those same points are just... still.¡±

    He placed his hands gently on either side of the cat, not quite touching its fur. Closing his eyes again, he focused on those static nodes. He imagined them beginning to pulse, matching the rhythm he¡¯d sensed in Marmalade¡¯s aura. Slowly, he pushed his own power through them to see if he could jumpstart the flow.

    As he worked, Terry felt a subtle shift in the cat¡¯s energy. The static nodes began to flicker, weakly at first, then growing stronger. He poured more of his own energy into the process, coaxing those flickering nodes into a steady rhythm.

    Terry¡¯s focus was locked on Eleanor, his hands hovering just above its fur. He could feel the subtle currents of aura flowing through the feline, pulsing in time with its contented purrs. As he worked to manipulate its aura, he noticed Tania¡¯s gentle strokes aligning with the rhythm he was trying to create.

    The air around them felt thick with energy as Terry poured his concentration into the task. He sensed the strain on his own aura, pushing himself to maintain the delicate balance necessary for anchoring the teleportation ability. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he pushed the cat¡¯s aura into the flowing pattern he¡¯d observed in Marmalade.

    Minutes passed, and Terry felt the pulses growing stronger and more consistent. He watched in fascination as the cat¡¯s aura began to shift, adapting to the new rhythm he was imposing. It reminded him of weaving, each adjustment like threading a new strand into an intricate design.

    The cat stirred slightly, and Terry held his breath, afraid the movement might disrupt his work. To his relief, Tania adjusted her stroking, keeping the feline calm. He heard her whisper softly to the cat, ¡°Easy there, little one. You¡¯re doing great.¡±

    As Terry continued his efforts, he sensed a building tension in the cat¡¯s aura. It felt like a rubber band being stretched to its limit, and he wondered if this was the crucial moment they¡¯d been working towards. He held his focus, hoping this tension was the key.

    His aura quivered as he struggled against unexpected resistance from the cat¡¯s aura. What had started as a smooth process was now becoming increasingly difficult. Eleanor¡¯s energy seemed to push back against his efforts, like trying to mold clay that kept springing back to its original shape.

    His limbs began to shake as he poured more of his own energy into the task. He gritted his teeth.

    So close! So close¡­

    The pulsing nodes he¡¯d established began to flicker erratically, threatening to revert to their static state.

    He could feel his own aura stretching thin, sucked into the cat¡¯s aura like a vortex. The resistance grew stronger, and Terry found himself locked in an invisible tug-of-war.

    His brow furrowed in concentration. ¡°Come on.¡± He tried to visualize the rhythm he¡¯d sensed in Marmalade¡¯s aura, attempting to imprint it more forcefully into Eleanor¡¯s energy.

    But the more he pushed, the more the cat¡¯s aura seemed to resist. It was as if the feline¡¯s very essence was rejecting the foreign pattern Terry was trying to impose. The pulsing nodes began to fade, slipping away from the rhythm he¡¯d worked so hard to establish.

    Terry¡¯s frustration mounted as he felt his control fade. And the more frustrated he became, the more difficult it was to maintain the flow.

    His muscles clenched, his aura spasming. The resistance he encountered was unlike anything he¡¯d experienced before. It wasn¡¯t just a matter of shaping energy or manipulating light; this was like trying to redirect a river with his bare hands.

    He¡¯d been so sure he¡¯d understood the process, so confident in his ability to replicate what he¡¯d seen in Marmalade¡¯s aura. But now, faced with the reality of anchoring a skill to a living being, Terry realized just how naive he¡¯d been.

    The complexity of the task dawned on him with crushing clarity. It wasn¡¯t just about copying a pattern or replicating an energy signature. The cat¡¯s aura was alive, dynamic, and stubbornly resistant to change. Every time Terry thought he¡¯d made progress, the energy would slip away, reverting to its original state.

    ¡°Hey.¡± Tania¡¯s voice broke through the building frustration. ¡°You¡¯re doing great, Terry. I can feel something happening.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes flickered open for a moment, meeting Tania¡¯s gaze. He could see the subtle optimism in her eyes.

    His jaw clenched. ¡°This is harder than I thought.¡±

    Tania nodded, her hand still gently stroking the cat in her lap. ¡°We¡¯re not in a rush. Don¡¯t force it. Just¡­let the aura take shape as you go.¡±

    The words sank in and he let his shoulders relax.

    She was right. I was rushing, anticipating a power up. I just need to be methodical.

    Terry took a deep breath, letting the relaxation seep from his shoulders, down to his arms, his back. He realized that even his toes had been clenched tight.

    Her eyes sparkled with quiet confidence. ¡°You¡¯ve got this. Just breathe and focus.¡±

    Terry nodded, closing his eyes once more. His aura shifted, the angry, jagged edges smoothing out as he regained his composure.

    As he returned his attention to the cat¡¯s aura, he took a different approach. Rather than try to force the power through, he began to work within the natural flow. He visualized the pulsing, offering avenues of movement, but not forcibly manipulating its aura framework.

    A suggestion, rather than a command.

    As he worked, he felt the flow of its aura now like a gentle current rather than a raging river.

    A flicker of hope sparked in his chest as he felt the cat¡¯s aura begin to yield. The pathways he had opened up began to fill with power, but the connections were incomplete. Emboldened, he worked to create those connections, bridge the nodes with options, not carved pathways.

    He felt the progress like a growing flame, added fuel to the fire.

    Tania¡¯s hand suddenly gripped his forearm, her nails digging deep furrows, smashing his concentration.

    ¡°Tania! What the¡ª¡±

    The moment he caught her expression, his annoyance shifted to fear.

    ¡°What?¡± He let the aura go, reaching out toward her. The cat rubbed against her hands, clearly annoyed that she¡¯d stopped petting it. But Tania didn¡¯t seem to notice, her eyes widening. ¡°Tania, you¡¯re scaring me!¡±

    Suddenly, a tremor shook the platform, causing the cat to leap from Tania¡¯s lap with a startled yowl. It disappeared into the crowd of people as Terry reached for Tania.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Terry asked, his voice tight with concern.

    Before Tania could respond, another tremor rippled through the stone platform, stronger than the first. Around them, the evacuees began to stir, confused murmurs quickly giving way to frightened exclamations.

    Sol rose into the air, his skin brightening like a beacon.

    ¡°Remain calm! Everyone remain calm!¡±

    Tania snapped back into awareness, her grip loosening on Terry¡¯s arm.

    ¡°They found us.¡±

    Terry¡¯s heart dropped.

    ¡°Qui Shen?¡± He kept his voice low so the nearby people wouldn¡¯t hear, but despite his efforts, the fear he felt managed to sneak in anyway.

    Tania shook her head slowly and he furrowed his brow in confusion.

    ¡°Then who?¡±

    She looked over toward the far wall of the tunnel, just as it began to part like liquid.

    When she looked back, the fear drained away, replaced with confusion.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­Tinker.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 15: Backed into a Corner

    Bloodhound¡¯s eyes narrowed as he scanned the crowd of obvious refugees. His heightened senses, honed through years of training and experience, picked up on subtle cues that others might miss. The desperate set of their shoulders, the nervous twitches, the auras flaring in terror, the frantic whites of their eyes showing in fear and submission, and the way they huddled together like a herd surrounded by wolves. In his mind¡¯s eye, he could see the diaspora as if he had been there, one of them as they fled from their homes.

    But he wasn¡¯t here to analyze the crowd. He wasn¡¯t a crowd-mover like a Hypnotist. No, he was a tracker. He was Bloodhound. His target was singular and he turned his attention to that task now.

    He tasted the aura in the air, felt its eddies brush against his skin. So many, so poignant. But his prowess was as singular as his target. After a moment, he caught a sense of¡­something. His pulse quickened. He couldn¡¯t pinpoint the designated target¡ªtoo many disparate auras, agitated and flared¡ªbut he knew with that bone-deep certainty he¡¯d cultivated since the F-grades; the Chameleon was here.

    With practiced subtlety, Bloodhound turned his head slightly towards Tinker. He gave an almost imperceptible nod in the direction of the clustered refugees. The gesture was smooth, natural¡ªto anyone else, it might have looked like he was simply surveying the scene. But he saw in the shift of Tinker¡¯s stance the message had been conveyed; no need for System chat.

    Tinker¡¯s power armor hummed softly as he processed Bloodhound¡¯s silent signal. With a subtle pivot, he turned his attention to the crowd of refugees. His enhanced sensors scanned the masses, cataloging faces, body language, and auras.

    The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. They were vastly outnumbered. Hundreds of frightened, desperate people huddled together, their eyes darting nervously between Tinker¡¯s imposing figure and the reassuring presence of Sol.

    And they were nearly all of them Awakened. A veritable army of supers, scared and on edge.

    Tinker¡¯s mind raced, calculating odds and potential outcomes. A direct confrontation would throw a spark into dry kindling. Chaos was not his friend right now, not with the Chameleon nearly in hand.

    He needed a more delicate approach.

    He turned his head slightly, signaling to Lady and Bloodhound to stay alert but not to make any sudden moves, then confirmed the order through System chat. They needed to tread carefully in this powder keg of emotions and desperation.

    An older man bathed in a soft, ethereal glow stepped forward. Tinker¡¯s sensors cataloged the power emanating from the super, confirming what his eyes told him.

    Despite all accounts, Solomon Rosenthal was very much alive. Not only that, but he stood before Tinker with a corona of power about him that was a cut above his own.

    Tinker had interacted with the Knights of Sol on occasion¡ªthem being neighbors and all¡ªand had even had dealings with Sol infrequently.

    But despite the obvious power exuding from the man, this wasn¡¯t the Sol of his memory. More grey than not tinged his beard and his eyes were sunken, hollow orbs where they had once been radiant gems. His limbs, once lithe and wiry, could only now be described as emaciated and weak.

    That wasn¡¯t to say he was weak¡ªonly that he wore the weariness of the last few years on his sleeve.

    Despite this, his voice was calm and measured as he addressed Tinker.

    ¡°Damien. It¡¯s good to see you, though the circumstances are certainly unusual.¡± His gaze held Tinker¡¯s featureless mask with a convincing confidence, but Tinker turned his armor toward analyzing the man¡¯s biomarkers.

    ¡°Solomon. You look¡­well.¡±

    Sol scoffed, but the light emanating from him pulsed gently, a subtle reminder of his power. His hands remained relaxed at his sides, but there was a tension in his shoulders that spoke of something lurking beneath the surface.

    ¡°What brings you down here?¡± There was a hopeful edge to his voice, despite the rumblings of a thousand worried mutterings behind him. ¡°Did Terraform send for you?¡±

    Tinker always felt more comfortable inside his power armor; secure, strong, practically untouchable. But besides the strength, ease of information, and abilities his armor provided, the thing he cherished most, the aspect of his armor that he most appreciated, was his mask.

    He¡¯d never had much of a poker face.

    So he knew that the expression he bore now¡ªthe narrowing of his eyes, furrowing of his brow, the slight slackness in his mouth¡ªwould have laid his shock and confusion bare for the entire stone barge of people to see.

    Instead, he took the moment to marshal his thoughts, a pause that gave the impression that he wasn¡¯t on the back foot, but rather was well in control of himself.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you apprise me of the situation.¡± Tinker¡¯s armored hand gestured away from the crowd slowly bulging toward them.

    Sol briefly scanned the refugees behind him, silently assuring them with his steady gaze and a confident gesture. As he moved away to join Tinker, Lady, and Bloodhound, a voice cut through the air.

    ¡°I am Rupert Olivier and as a ranking member of the Market, I demand to be present for negotiations.¡±

    Tinker turned back to see a man stride through the crowd, his eyes haughty, his chin raised. He came to Sol¡¯s side, a silent dare in the cast of his eyes.

    Sol¡¯s only response was a furrowing of his brow, an obvious sign of his discomfort. But before he could voice any objection, Tinker inclined his armored head in a curt nod. ¡°Very well,¡± he said, his voice modulated, calm and steady.

    The small group formed a tight circle, isolated from the main crowd but still within view. Sol¡¯s shoulders were tense, his radiant confidence of before dimmed by the presence of the man calling himself Rupert. In contrast, Rupert stood with an air of defiance, his chin lifted as if waiting for someone to challenge his presence.

    Tinker eyed the two men for a moment before his voice cut through the tension. ¡°Why don¡¯t you start, Sol?¡±

    An edge passed over Sol¡¯s face, his eyes narrowing briefly before widening in revelation.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t come to aid us, did you?¡± His voice was low, only his power armor¡¯s enhanced sensors picking up the words. ¡°Terraform didn¡¯t send out a call for help, did he?¡±

    Rupert cut his gaze toward Sol, his nose furled, his tone haughty. ¡°Of course he did. Why else would they be miles under the earth? How could they have found us otherwise?¡±

    Sol ignored the man, his eyes glowing bright, locked powerfully on Tinker¡¯s mask.

    After a moment, Tinker sighed.

    ¡°He¡¯s right.¡± Rupert¡¯s head whipped back. ¡°We¡¯ve been chasing a fugitive who fled with the aid of a Stone Elementalist.¡± He thumbed to his left. ¡°Sol, you might know Bloodhound.¡±

    Sol nodded toward the tracker, his lips pursed tight. At his side, Rupert was spluttering in shock.

    ¡°What? This doesn¡¯t make any sense. The chances¡ª¡±

    ¡°Our fugitive is here, among your charges,¡± Tinker continued, ignoring the man¡¯s confusion. ¡°Bloodhound can sense him, though we would need a closer examination to isolate his signature.¡±

    ¡°And who is this fugitive?¡± Sol asked lightly. ¡°Who is so important that it warrants an entire team sent away from Topeka?¡±

    Lady and Bloodhound shared a pained look behind him¡ªhis power armor picked up on the movement, sending him the feed in the corner of his vision¡ªbut he ignored their obvious lack of commitment to his goal. He couldn¡¯t blame them; the Chameleon was his own little obsession. And by virtue of his status, he didn¡¯t need to justify himself to them.

    ¡°Our target is the one styled the Chameleon. He¡¯s a rogue super who¡¯s been raiding Topekan depots for the past few months. I¡¯ve been given leave to apprehend him.¡± Despite his power armor¡¯s modulated voice, he let the sincerity leak through with a subtle mental command, hardening his tone. ¡°By any means necessary.¡±

    Sol¡¯s face remained impassive, but a flicker of unease crossed his eyes. He opened his mouth and Tinker could already hear the denial on his tongue, when Rupert¡¯s voice interrupted him.

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    ¡°We have nothing to hide,¡± Rupert declared boldly, stepping forward. His eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and calculation as he addressed Tinker directly. ¡°We will gladly allow you and your team to scan for this Chameleon¡­in exchange for aid.¡±

    Sol¡¯s head snapped towards Rupert, his expression a mix of shock and betrayal. The light emanating from his form flickered momentarily, betraying his inner turmoil. His mouth opened and shut in a struggle to find words. He had been caught off guard by Rupert¡¯s unexpected declaration.

    Tinker¡¯s helmet tilted slightly, letting the gesture convey his interest despite the lack of visible facial expressions. The tension in the air thickened as Sol and Rupert locked eyes, a silent battle of wills playing out between them.

    Sol¡¯s expression tightened, his jaw clenching as he struggled to find a way out of the corner Rupert had backed him into. He glanced between Rupert¡¯s defiant stance and Tinker¡¯s imposing figure, no doubt feeling the weight of his responsibility for the refugees behind him.

    He opened his mouth to speak, but the words died on his lips. Tinker understood his dilemma. Sol had an idea who the Chameleon was and was forced to balance that loyalty against hundreds of lives. What could he say? Strong-arming Rupert would only raise suspicion, and Tinker could read the desperation in Sol¡¯s body language. His shoulders sagged, the realization that he had no choice seeming to settle in.

    His eyes met Tinker¡¯s expressionless mask, and he took a deep breath.

    ¡°You¡¯re free to look for this¡­Chameleon. But you should know that Qui Shen is here, in North America. Or, rather, he¡¯s somewhere under the surface, pursuing us.¡±

    Tinker once again thanked his power armor for hiding the naked shock on his face.

    ¡°Qui Shen? That¡¯s ridiculous.¡±

    Sol shook his head sadly. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not so ridiculous as it is deranged. You¡¯ve heard the rumors of his insanity and they appear to be true.¡±

    Tinker took a moment to process this news, his thoughts churning wildly. At his side, Lady stirred.

    ¡°Damien, we need to report back¡ª¡±

    He raised an armored hand, switching over to System chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Tinker]: Start dictating this entire conversation to the Council, including everything already discussed. Assume the threat is credible and request SPC reinforcements.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Lady]: What does Qui Shen want? Why risk leaving Asia? Terraform¡¯s Market is an inconsequential independent city.

    </blockquote>

    There was only one thing that would draw a madman like Qui Shen out of his nest.

    ¡°Terraform has a Singularity, then?¡± he muttered.

    Sol flinched, all the confirmation he needed, but it was obvious this was news to Rupert.

    ¡°A Singularity?¡± he burst out. Those refugees nearest began muttering at the outburst.

    ¡°Quiet, fool!¡± Bloodhound hissed, studying the crowd over Rupert¡¯s shoulder.

    Rupert blanched at the insult, but steamrolled over his own pride.

    ¡°Those are just urban legends,¡± he insisted. ¡°Flaccid justifications between the Originals to justify their wars.¡±

    Tinker shook his head, but sidestepped the man¡¯s floundering comments.

    ¡°So Terraform has a Singularity, then?¡± he directed toward Sol. ¡°Tell me he¡¯s fled, that you¡¯re the diversion.¡± But he could tell by the look on Sol¡¯s face that honor had impeded common sense. He growled inside his suit.

    ¡°He¡¯s gone to ambush Qui Shen, obviously. He¡¯s buying us time to escape,¡± Rupert said.

    Lady cringed, while Bloodhound scowled. Behind his mask, Tinker felt the blood rushing to his face. He immediately sent off half a dozen System messages to the Council, SPC, and Dancer personally.

    Rupert, not understanding the idiocy of what he said, looked around in confusion.

    ¡°He¡¯s sacrificing himself to save thousands of innocents. How could he do anything different?¡±

    ¡°Jesus, man, are you slow?¡± Bloodhound barked. Looking around, he lowered his voice. ¡°If Terraform dies, he¡¯ll be handing Qui Shen the Singularity on a silver platter. He¡¯ll turn Qui Shen into the most powerful super on the planet.¡±

    Rupert went through all the stages of Ds right before their eyes, a kaleidoscope of doubt, denial, and then dismay.

    But Tinker wasn¡¯t paying the man any attention. Instead, his mind was calculating, factoring in what he knew of Terraform, Qui Shen, Sol, and the Singularities.

    ¡°That¡¯s twice now you¡¯ve insulted me,¡± Rupert huffed. His fingers visibly clenched into his fists. ¡°There won¡¯t be a third.¡±

    Bloodhound raised his eyebrows mockingly. ¡°Wanna bet?¡±

    Lady stepped between them, her hands pressed to their chests. ¡°Boys, there¡¯s nothing less attractive than a dick-measuring contest. Put ¡®em away¡ª¡± She indicated the increasingly frantic crowd behind them. ¡°¡ªbefore we have a full-blown panic on our hands.¡±

    While they locked eyes in a testosterone-induced tug-o-war, Tinker¡¯s mind worked.

    Terraform was inherently an honorable man, one not prone to selfish acts of petty defiance or futile last stands. If he was going to fight Qui Shen, it was with the knowledge that he wouldn¡¯t lose¡­or he no longer held the Singularity.

    His eyes ripped up, suddenly locked on Sol with an intensity that only shocked revelation could imbue. He found the man side-eyeing him, only pretending to intercede in Rupert and Bloodhound¡¯s boyish posturing. Through his mask, Tinker could sense Sol¡¯s attention on him like the heat of the sun on a cloudless day.

    Sol has Terraform¡¯s Singularity. This is their gambit.

    The stakes heightened suddenly, his interface indicating that his heart rate was erratic, cortisol and adrenaline levels rising above baseline levels. He silenced the alarms, then silenced the two bickering men with the unyielding strength of his power armor stretching out to push them away from each other.

    ¡°Enough,¡± he scolded. He turned his mask toward each of them, waiting until they acknowledged his command with terse nods. ¡°Qui Shen is the enemy of all.¡± He turned to Sol, noting the man¡¯s on-edge posture. ¡°We will provide what aid we can, but not here. Our only salvation lies on the surface. I¡¯ll have the entire Council and nearby SPC supers waiting for us.¡± Sol¡¯s posture relaxed incrementally as he spoke, but despite the threat of Qui Shen looming over them all, he also recognized his own unique point of leverage as their savior. ¡°But in exchange¡ª¡± He leaned in, his modulated voice low. ¡°¡ªI want the Chameleon.¡±

    <hr>

    Terry watched Tinker, Bloodhound, Lady, and their team step onto their platform, his heart pounding in his chest. Sol stood tall, his ethereal glow a stark contrast to the dim tunnel, as he faced off against the three supers. The sight of Lady, once a poster on his wall, an effigy to his boyhood admiration, now sent a chill down Terry¡¯s spine.

    She was hunting him.

    Beside him, Tania¡¯s grip on his arm tightened, her fingernails digging into his skin. He could feel her panic radiating through her touch, matching the frantic beating of his own heart.

    ¡°They followed us!¡± Tania whispered, her voice trembling. ¡°How did they follow us?¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind raced, but not on that question. The question didn¡¯t matter; all the mattered was how they were going to escape. He scanned the tunnel, looking for any possible avenue, but the stone walls seemed to close in around them. The crowd of refugees pressed in all around, unknowingly trapping him in place.

    Maybe he could part space, but where would they go? The only place within his range was the Market and that was a death trap. Even trying to part space would only confirm his identity as the Chameleon. His eyes darted between Sol and Tinker, trying to gauge the situation from their body language.

    ¡°We need to blend in,¡± Terry murmured to Tania, attempting to keep his voice steady. ¡°Act natural. We¡¯re just two more refugees, scared and confused.¡±

    ¡°I am scared and confused,¡± Tania muttered.

    He turned to look at her, willing confidence into his eyes, though it felt hollow.

    ¡°We¡¯re gonna be okay, Tania.¡±

    But even as he said it, he knew he was just giving false hope. Bloodhound¡¯s tracking abilities were legendary, and if he got close enough, he¡¯d be discovered in an instant. Terry¡¯s mind whirled, grasping at half-formed plans and discarding them just as quickly.

    Tania¡¯s fingernails dug deeper into his arm, her fear palpable. ¡°They¡¯re going to find you,¡± she hissed, her eyes wide with terror.

    Any other time, it might have warmed his chest to know she was only concerned for his wellbeing. But right now, he felt the burden of her anxiety on his shoulders, a responsibility to protect her.

    He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He needed a plan, and he needed one fast. But Tinker¡¯s advanced technology had found him once before. And if his sensors didn¡¯t, Bloodhound¡¯s tracking skills certainly would. Every option seemed to lead to a dead end.

    Terry closed his eyes, reaching out with his aura senses to feel the subtle vibrations in the air. He probed the space around them, searching for any weakness, any crack in the fabric of reality that he could exploit. His mind raced with possibilities¡ªmaybe he could send Tinker and his team to the Market, buying them precious time. It was unlikely he could force an S-ranker through his portal, even two A-rankers was a stretch of the imagination, but he didn¡¯t see any other choice.

    But as he extended his senses further, he felt a familiar resistance. Tinker¡¯s spatial-locking Artifact was engaged, its power far stronger and more intricate than Terry had encountered before. The energy signature pulsed with a complexity that made Terry¡¯s previous encounters with it seem almost primitive in comparison.

    He pushed harder, trying to find any weak point in the spatial lock, but it was like trying to break through a wall of solid steel with his bare hands. The more he probed, the more he realized it wasn¡¯t happening; there was a strength component that hadn¡¯t been there before. Tinker had clearly boosted his Artifact¡¯s power, anticipating Terry¡¯s abilities and countering them with ruthless brute force.

    Frustration welled up inside Terry as he opened his eyes, meeting Tania¡¯s worried gaze. He shook his head slightly, conveying the bad news silently. Even if he could somehow breach Tinker¡¯s defenses, the chances of teleporting them away were basically nil. They were trapped, hemmed in by stone walls, desperate refugees, and Tinker¡¯s impenetrable spatial lock.

    The reality of their situation settled over him like a heavy blanket, suffocating and inescapable.

    He paced back and forth, his fingers drumming anxiously against his thigh. His mind raced, searching for any possible way out of their predicament. The walls of the tunnel seemed to close in around him, the chatter of the refugees fading into a dull roar as he focused on finding a solution.

    Suddenly, his eyes lit up with a desperate idea. It was risky, perhaps even foolish, but it might be their only chance. He turned to Tania, his voice low and urgent.

    ¡°I need to anchor a Skill,¡± he whispered, his words tumbling out in a rush. ¡°We need to finish what we started with Eleanor. If I can do it, I might be able to get my Midmark¡ª¡±

    Warning! Revealing information about your Quests will result in consequences.

    He growled in annoyance. Her brow furrowed. ¡°How? We don¡¯t have time to¡ª¡±

    Terry cut her off, his eyes blazing with determination. ¡°We have to try. It¡¯s our only shot.¡±

    He knew in his bones that if he could reach C-rank, they might have a chance to escape. The boost in power could give him the edge he needed to break through Tinker¡¯s spatial lock or create a diversion strong enough to slip away unnoticed. He didn¡¯t know why he felt so certain¡ªjust a feeling that seemed to invade his mind, pushing him toward the only avenue that wasn¡¯t completely roadblocked.

    ¡°We need to get Eleanor or another cat, ASAP¡ª¡±

    Tania was shaking his head, her eyes locked on Tinker and Sol. ¡°There¡¯s no time.¡± Her eyes cut back to Terry, full of burning fire, resolute determination. ¡°You need to start now.¡±

    He reeled back, sensing where she was going but not wanting to acknowledge it.

    She filled the space, leaning in until they were almost touching face-to-face.

    ¡°You need to anchor your Skill in me.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 16: Spatial Storm

    Marlon stood in the center of the Pit, the heart of the Market, his aura pulsing with newfound power. He took a deep breath, centering himself, flexing his control over space like a nervous tic. The air around him bent with his will, his senses attuned to every subtle shift in the fabric of space.

    As he exhaled slowly, his awareness extended outward, feeling the intricate web of spatial connections that made up the Market. Each alleyway, each shop, each hidden nook was his domain; a potential weapon in his arsenal. And he could sense the impending danger, knew he¡¯d need every weapon, every trick, if he were going to stop Skipper.

    He began weaving invisible threads through space, laying the groundwork for his web of traps and diversions. His lips were set in grim determination as he split his focus across dozens of these threads.

    Skipper had the power edge, but Marlon had the advantage of preparation and skill. And it was time to see just how much that counted for.

    The attacks on Market space gradually intensified and Marlon was forced to divert more attention to shutting them down.

    Just a minute longer¡­

    Despite his contempt for the man, Skipper wasn¡¯t an idiot. He was simply arrogant¡ªa byproduct of his strength. So Marlon knew that Skipper would vary his approach, try different avenues, hope to overwhelm his pool of power and attention through a scatter shot approach.

    All Marlon needed to do was open a channel, slip the gate into the Market on his terms.

    There!

    An intrusion began to form in an alleyway in the Services Sector. Marlon could have clamped it shut, cut off the power before it could split space. But he let it slide open, slip through his fingers like a weary man overwhelmed by the sheer volume of attacks.

    A portal snapped into place, anchored itself into reality and even Marlon couldn¡¯t have sealed it shut now if he wanted to.

    When the first soldier peeked his head through the portal, scanned his eyes across the alleyway, he half-expected to eat a bullet or suffer some magical attack. Instead, all he saw were upturned cobblestones, debris, and the detritus of a hastily abandoned city.

    He stepped through, signaling the all clear behind him.

    High above, Marlon watched from his pinhole portal as a dozen more men and women stepped through the portal, filling the alleyway. The waves of aura around the group were of a middling strength¡ªa cadre of B-rankers, most likely.

    He watched and waited, feeling a second portal pass his defensive net in a similar alley across the Market. Then a third.

    From each portal, a dozen mid-rank soldiers filtered through.

    And he sprung his traps.

    The air around each invading force seemed to thicken with power. They felt the change immediately, but their portals were one-way¡ªthere was no retreat.

    The first group found themselves disoriented, their vision flipped, the ground above them and open space beneath them. As one, they threw themselves to the floor, clutching futilely at the cobblestones as space betrayed them.

    A second group found themselves similarly confused about the orientation of space, but were actively flying through the air. A portal materialized beneath them¡ªalready formed, but somehow hidden. As they entered, a split-second of null-space led them out a second portal formed only a hairs breadth above the first. They fell in a never ending revolving door of space, cut off from their senses and power except for a microsecond between the two portals.

    The third group found themselves trapped in a narrow alley that seemed to writhe around them, mocking their senses. As a group, they raced toward the alley mouth, only to find themselves back were they started. Reversing their path did nothing, and they soon found themselves sprinting end to end with no change, an eternal Penrose alleyway that no amount of aura or power could shatter.

    More squads were allowed into the Market and each one found themselves in a bewildering, brain-defying trap. Portals winked in and out of existence, space bent and shifted wholesale, and chaos reigned across the Market.

    There was a spatial storm raging in the Market and Marlon stood in the Eye.

    When Skipper finally arrived, his presence rang out like a clarion call, attempting to dominate the Market space with steel willpower and iron fist.

    But you didn¡¯t tame a tempest with the lash; you rode it like a sailor strapped to the mast, giving in to its whims. You could no more defy the storm than you could quench the sun.

    So Marlon sat back as Skipper tried to smooth the very waves of reality, creating new folds like bunches in the rug that defied attempts to shove them flat.

    In one corner of the Market, a dozen Awakened were stranded in the void of subspace when Skipper¡¯s machinations broke their portal¡¯s connection. In another, the labyrinthine maze Marlon had brewed from space collapsed entirely, bringing uncountable tons of stone down upon their heads.

    Everywhere Skipper countered, he only found inventive ways to kill or impede his own men.

    Marlon watched and waited, expecting the frustration to mount until there was only one path forward. He would force a confrontation and spring his last trap.

    Another minute passed and another group died. Skipper¡¯s voice and aura smashed out, a defiant rock chucked into the sea.

    The sea didn¡¯t answer back, but Marlon did.

    With a subtle flick of power, he revealed his location, a beacon visible for miles around, perched on the edge of a glass bridge high above the lava of the Pit.

    Space ripped, screaming open as Skipper stepped across from him.

    He was a weasel of a man on his best of days, small, sickly pale skin, with stringy, grease-coated hair massaged into a side comb that did little to hide his cul-de-sac hairline.

    But as he stood across from Marlon, it seemed the man had seen better days.

    His eyes were darting, bloodshot, sunken. His teeth yellowed and worn, like he¡¯d been grinding them down for weeks. His cheeks were sharp points, threatening to spear through his skin.

    But the power boiled off his aura, thick and dense like a bodybuilder¡¯s muscles. He tried for a quick flick, flexing his power in a stabbing attack across space. Marlon unraveled it with a pull, then crossed his arms contemptuously.

    ¡°What? No villain monologue?¡± He tsked and shook his head. ¡°Qui Shen teach you nothing?¡±

    Skipper growled, stepping forward¡ªa single step that took him a dozen yards, space yielding to his authority. They stood face-to-face now, but both knew the threat was idle; they weren¡¯t brawlers like Duelists or Summoners. They could be touching nose-to-nose and still wouldn¡¯t even think to raise a fist.

    No, their fight would be one of finesse and skill and mastery over space.

    <hr>

    It was a moment of open-mouthed shock before Terry managed to respond to Tania.

    ¡°I thought we talked about this.¡± The tension of Tinker¡¯s presence infected his tone, giving it a hard edge he regretted.

    Instead of fighting fire with fire, Tania¡¯s expression softened.

    ¡°Terry, I know it¡¯s risky, and I know we talked about this already. But the situation¡¯s changed¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not enough to risk your life!¡± he blurted.

    She sat back, looking off into the distance. He held his breath, waiting for the outburst he knew would come. But a moment passed, then two, and he wondered if he was being unfair to Tania. He examined her aura to try and glean what exactly was coursing beneath the surface.

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    To his surprise, it was placid, smooth where Tania¡¯s was usually hard-edged and full of fire. For a moment, he feared she was getting another premonition of danger.

    ¡°Tania, what¡¯s wrong?¡±

    She snorted humorlessly, her eyes flicking toward Terry before darting away again.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing. I¡ª¡± She shook her head, the corners of her lips turning up before she masked it by looking down. ¡°I just realized that I¡¯ve been so wrong¡­about everything.¡±

    Terry felt a flutter in his chest, worried that she was somehow going to say something she couldn¡¯t take back. ¡°What¡­what do you mean?¡± His voice was barely a cut above a whisper.

    She looked up now, her full smile on display.

    ¡°I know this is gonna sound stupid, but I¡­I finally understand why I failed my Awakening the first time. Why I¡¯m a Seer now instead of a Traveler.¡±

    He narrowed his eyes, his thoughts jumbled as he tried to connect the dots. ¡°What are you saying?¡±

    ¡°I wanted it so bad, Terry. The freedom being a Traveler would offer.¡± She looked off, her eyes trailing toward Tinker, Bloodhound, Lady, and Sol. ¡°I never wanted to feel trapped, helpless, like I did when the draugr killed my parents.¡± She looked back, her eyes pinched in a pained expression, her voice lowering. ¡°I was always gonna leave.¡± She said it like a shameful confession and Terry struggled to comprehend. ¡°I never intended to stay in Wichita. When I tried the first time, I was gonna leave Feed Wichita, leave the team¡­leave you.¡±

    He felt his blood surge, his face heat up as he processed that revelation. It felt like a stab to the chest. Tania must have seen his expression because she leaned in, grabbing his arms tight.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t because we¡¯re not best friends, Terry. It hurt me to even think about it¡ª¡±

    He pulled away, feeling that heat in his body shift to his voice. ¡°Then why?¡± he demanded. ¡°And why are you telling me this?¡±

    She sighed, sitting back on her heels, her eyes studying the passing ceiling as their platform continued its slow march to the surface.

    ¡°You don¡¯t see it¡ªI know that. And I don¡¯t blame you.¡±

    ¡°See what!¡± He felt his blood rushing in his ears. ¡°All I¡¯ve ever been is a friend to you, Tania! Everything I¡¯ve done, I included you¡ª¡±

    Her head whipped around, her gaze pinning him in place. ¡°Exactly!¡± She let out a heavy breath, the fire draining from her eyes, her voice lowering. ¡°Exactly. You¡­you¡¯re like gravity, Terry. Everything around you gets pulled into your orbit.¡±

    He opened his mouth to protest¡ªit wasn¡¯t his fault¡ªbut she held up a hand.

    ¡°No, listen. I¡¯m just saying, it¡¯s obvious to anyone who spends any time around you that you have a destiny or some purpose. And we¡¯re getting sucked along by that pull. I¡­resented it at first. I didn¡¯t realize it, but I blamed you for Flore, hell, even for Vlad.¡± Her eyes glistened, tears threatening to break free. ¡°I felt¡ª¡± She shook her head. ¡°¡ªno, I knew, that I¡¯d join them. If I stayed with you, I¡¯d eventually die. That¡¯s why I got the Skills I did, see? My System wanted me to feel safe! It wanted me to realize that you weren¡¯t a black hole pulling me into oblivion. Terry¡ª¡± She reached out, grabbing his hands gently, the tears finally slipping down her cheeks. ¡°¡ªyou¡¯re not a black hole¡­you¡¯re the sun, casting your light upon the world. The things you¡¯re gonna do, the good you¡¯re gonna accomplish¡­I was an idiot, Terry. To try and pull away from that.¡± She was shaking her head still, little flicks of her chin as if she couldn¡¯t believe it. ¡°I¡¯m meant to help you, to support you. That¡¯s why I¡¯m a Seer. That¡¯s why I have these abilities. I¡¯m sorry¡ªfor everything, for being selfish, scared, a bitch¡ªall of it. I¡­¡± She squeezed his hands, a sad smile on her face. ¡°I just want to help you continue to shine¡­¡±

    His eyes tracked over her hands, an overwhelming confusion infecting his thoughts. His instinct was to deny her feelings, call her silly, dramatic, or anything¡ªanything to detract from the enormity of that proclamation, the idea that he had some sort of destiny. The thought was like a dirty word in his mind.

    I¡¯m just a kid, he complained internally. Just a kid trying to do the right thing.

    It was a lie, and not even a convincing one. The Weaver had made his path clear when he¡¯d first Awakened. It had set him on a journey to bring peace to the region, to fight back against the Council, Dancer, the Emperor¡­his father. It was false humility to argue otherwise.

    But for some reason, it still stung at him, the way she¡¯d described his presence like a gravitational pull. He didn¡¯t know why¡ªit was true. He¡¯d blamed himself for Flore and Vlad¡¯s death for months¡ªstill did.

    Yet, there was something freeing in the thought, as well. He¡¯d put himself and others in danger, but always for the right reasons. He knew himself, believed he knew his Waker, and he knew Tania. They were doing what they thought was right, what they thought would lead to the most good, as the Weaver had called it. Flore and Vlad hadn¡¯t died for no reason¡ªthey had accomplished good, too.

    And though it saddened him, he felt somewhere deep inside that if they were looking down now, they¡¯d be proud of what they¡¯d accomplished.

    He couldn¡¯t process everything at once; Tania¡¯s words had been like a steamroller on his mind. But as he looked up into her eyes, felt her reassuring warmth in his hands, he felt that he finally understood what she had been hinting at; what drove her.

    She was his friend, his ally, but she wasn¡¯t his charge. It wasn¡¯t his right to shield her from her own decisions. If she wanted to do this, then he would let her.

    ¡°That was a lot to unpack,¡± he said. She snorted, the old tears flicking off her chin. ¡°But I hear you. Had to really dig into the subtext of your point.¡± He flicked his eyebrows as if to say, thanks for the compliment sandwich. ¡°But I hear you.¡± He took a deep breath, reaching for his aura as he calmed his mind. ¡°Do you still wanna do this?¡± His voice was soft, not pushing the issue, giving her the reins to make the call.

    She studied him for a moment, her eyes flicking across his features. Then, a wide smile spread incrementally across her face.

    ¡°You bet your ass.¡±

    <hr>

    To the outside observer, Marlon and Skipper¡¯s duel would have been completely incomprehensible. Space rioted, stuck in the maw of two titanic powers, the death throes of reality, the result.

    Skipper opened by shearing space like a scalpel across where Marlon¡¯s body was. Marlon answered by falling into a portal, entering subspace and exiting in a flash that occurred in perfect time with Skipper¡¯s assault.

    The attacks magnified, a dozen powerful maneuvers that sought to rend reality and turn Marlon into mincemeat. Marlon countered similarly, removing himself from the equation and reappearing fifty feet away on a separate glass bridge.

    Skipper struck, Marlon countered, and space suffered. To the naked eye, distortions spread across the Pit like heat shimmers in the desert. After a full minute, Marlon was forced to rely purely on his senses, as his head began to swim whenever he focused his vision.

    A second minute passed, and the bridges spanning the Pit began to crack and splinter under the warping of space. For two decades, these glass walkways had connected the separate sections of the Market, as integral as arteries in the body. Marlon had never thought he¡¯d see the day they crumbled.

    And yet, the distortions in space worked to undermine Terraform¡¯s engineering and power. The sound of shattering glass tinkled in his ears, dopplered across his senses by the tectonic shifting of the air around them.

    Skipper¡¯s attacks came in faster, stronger, more destructive, shredding the substructure around them. Marlon, on the other hand, only had half his attention on the S-ranker. Every few seconds, he slipped out his own attack, timed in conjunction with Skipper¡¯s so that they remained unnoticed.

    Marlon had learned long ago that S-rankers, more often than not, were unshakably secure in the reach and weight of their power. They stopped learning technique, stopped honing their senses, instead relying upon brute force and raw Attributes to achieve their goals.

    To a hammer, everything was a nail.

    And a Traveler of Skipper¡¯s power was accustomed to the ultimate trump¡ªa get out of jail free card should he ever bite off more than he could chew.

    But there were certain circumstances where that were not true, where space was so bruised and battered and beleaguered that she wouldn¡¯t respond to the call of power any longer. She¡¯d lay down, rest her head on the dirt, and die, like a blown-out horse pushed past her limit. Marlon had never witnessed such an event and he was certain Skipper hadn¡¯t either.

    Now, though, he sensed the heaving breaths of space, the withdrawal of its capacity to shift, the utter collapse of its cohesion and structure.

    He didn¡¯t know if localized space would implode, shoving Marlon and Skipper into some pocket dimension for all eternity. Perhaps space would shatter like a plane of glass, shredding their physical forms into mist. Or even shear around them like the cutting debris of a hurricane.

    What he did know, was that the two of them had abused their domain past the breaking point. Space refused his coaxing, refused Skipper¡¯s bullying, and it raged. It raged around them like deadly leaves in the wind.

    Marlon had known space could be pushed too far¡ªonly his fate remained uncertain. But just in case, on the slim chance reality wouldn¡¯t completely crush him in convulsive anger, he had positioned himself just so. It was a silly thing to do; just taking the bastard down would be enough. But survival instincts were hardwired, even in a man who had spent his life trying to un-hardwire himself.

    The S-ranker sensed the end coming as well. His voice echoed across waves of space, sounding both far off and intimately close.

    ¡°You always¡­thought you were¡­better than me!¡±

    Marlon couldn¡¯t tell if his answer retread space to touch Skipper¡¯s ears, but it warmed his stomach to say them anyway.

    ¡°I always have been!¡±

    Marlon felt his bridge give way, just as he sensed Skipper¡¯s aura fall outside the spatial storm. As he fell through the air toward the lava below, he felt the air around him suddenly still, cohesion return. He looked up, spotting the small area where their duel had been contained. In the moment, it had felt like all of reality had been their battlefield. But from outside the space, it was barely a fifty-by-fifty pocket of warped space, still crashing around itself erratically.

    As he continued to fall, he finally caught sight of Skipper pinwheeling through the air, his eyes locked tight on the lava below. Marlon felt him reach for space, try to ram it open through sheer willpower.

    He strained against the raw power, holding Skipper¡¯s exit portal closed.

    A single second had passed, and they neared the terminus of their fall together. Skipper¡¯s face shifted in surprise, then anger. He tried again, this time pushing so much aura through, he shredded the surrounding space.

    Marlon held tight, letting the pressure build, then let go. The effect was similar to a contested tug-o-war, the other side releasing their hold suddenly. Skipper reeled back in shock, the feedback catching him off guard. Then, he hit the lava with strangled cry.

    A beat later, Marlon also hit something¡ªsomething much harder, but much less painful.

    He felt his legs snap like dry twigs as he landed on the stone abutment sticking out from the Pit wall. The thought of a roll to diffuse his momentum was preposterous¡ªat his size? No, he had suspected the fall would kill him, but had tried anyway.

    So, when his legs gave way and his head cracked against his knee with the sound of a major league home run, he assumed the darkness that followed was him finally returning to that once-forgotten kitchen to rest with his wife and daughter.

    It was with an unbelievable level of annoyance that his eyes flicked open an undefinable amount of time later and he realized that he was¡ªunfortunately¡ªstill alive.

 B2 - Chapter 17: The Burning Court

    Official Decree of the Eternal Flame

    By the unquenchable will of the Eternal Flame, Sovereign of the Burning Court, Supreme Arbiter of Fire, to all who dwell beneath the Heavens and within the warmth of His Burning Court, hear this declaration and heed it well. From this day henceforth, by Heavenly Mandate of the Eternal Flame, all divine entities shall now be referred to as such:

    * S-rank ¡ª The divine S-rank shall be known as God-Tier, and those among it as Gods. Heavenly power in this Earthly realm. Look not upon God with mundane eyes, nor speak Mortal words in the presence of God.

    * A-rank ¡ª The A-rank shall be known as Demigod-Tier, and those among it as Demigods. They are the emissaries of Gods and their word is law.

    * B-rank ¡ª The lowest of the divine ranks, B-rank shall be known as Ascendant-Tier, and those among it as Ascendants.

    * C-rank ¡ª The highest of the mortal ranks, C-rank shall be known as Exalted-Tier, and those among it as Exalted.

    * D-rank ¡ª The D-rank shall be known as Aspirant-Tier, and those among it as Aspirants.

    * E-rank ¡ª The first rank of import. E-rank shall be known as Nascent-Tier, and those among it as Nascents. They may not be impeded or hindered by lower-tier Mortals in pursuit of their duty.

    * F-rank ¡ª No special disposition or writ shall be afforded F-rank and it shall be known as Mortal-Tier. Those among it are classified as Mortals.

    Let all adherents observe this sacred Decree, for any who speak of the obsolete ranks of the past shall draw upon them the wrath of the Burning Court. The Eternal Flame demands obedience to His word, which is as the Heavens itself¡ªunyielding and everlasting. To defy is to court the Divine Fire that consumes all.

    Thus is it decreed by the Eternal Flame, beneath the gaze of the Burning Court. So it shall be, in word and in deed.

    <hr>

    It was difficult not to feel like a failure.

    Twenty years clawing for respect, scrapping for resources, bargaining for alliances¡ªall dashed to the dirt by the machinations of a single megalomaniac.

    No, Terraform amended, Qui Shen is simply the byproduct of a war thrust upon us unwittingly.

    These beings pulling the strings, gods or demons or cthulic powers, used Awakened like expendable bullets¡ªfire and forget. And they¡¯d turned Earth into just another battlefront for their war.

    He¡¯d consciously pulled away from society for that very reason; created a place that¡ªwhile not utopic¡ªwas certainly better than the alternatives on the surface. Yet, somehow, he¡¯d been dragged back into the politics and violence.

    Well, Qui Shen was about to discover that he was very good at violence.

    Around him was the evidence of two decades of friendship and peace. Four people who despite their raw power, had chosen of their own free will to spend their lives on the hope of saving others.

    Louisa¡ªornery, imperious, arrogant; giving, selfless, powerful above her rank.

    Juliette¡ªobsequious and timid; stronger than she could possibly know, a cornerstone of the Market.

    Marcus¡ªquiet, unambitious; steady, powerful, an anchor to Terraform¡¯s leadership.

    Hunter¡ªtoo content in his shadow; yet, the greatest mind he¡¯d ever come across.

    And then there was himself. Once upon a time, he¡¯d been a coward. No one would ever have dared say so to his face; he had been a tempestuous coward, prone to proving himself with acts of daring violence and reckless risk-taking. It was only after he¡¯d lost everything¡ªbeen exiled in disgrace from his homeland¡ªhad he understood that his bluster and half-cocked tendencies had been a cover for the raw terror that infected his being.

    That was decades ago. He¡¯d rebuilt himself from the ground up, infused the core of his being with integrity and bravery. Now, his center was as solid as the element he controlled.

    He didn¡¯t tremble as they raced toward certain death; didn¡¯t even consider how simple and clean it would be to just flee. Even a half-honest man would see the appeal of guerrilla tactics, hit-and-run attacks, only to flee at the first sign of real danger.

    But a truly honest man, a man of real integrity, wouldn¡¯t fool themselves. Guerrilla tactics wouldn¡¯t save the thousands of refugees angling at a slow crawl toward the surface. Qui Shen¡¯s forces were too large and too powerful for a couple of sneak attacks to shake their progress.

    No, only all-out war would cripple them enough to give Sol and the others a chance.

    He knew all this about himself¡ªand more¡ªas he surveyed his group one last time. Louisa was stirring the ambient aura around her, creating whirlpools of power that belied her A-rank. Hunter had his eyes closed, sharpening his greatest weapon¡ªhis mind. Marcus was readying his aura, preparing to Amplify Terraform to a level beyond mere S-rankers. And Juliette stood by Louisa¡¯s side, helping stir her power like the ladle in a cauldron.

    The mood to address them gripped him from nowhere.

    ¡°There¡¯s no one else I¡¯d rather last stand with.¡±

    Hunter¡¯s eyes drifted open, a slight uptick at the corner of his mouth. Louisa scowled¡ªwhat else would she do?¡ªand ignored him. Juliette faltered in her control, smiling shyly before turning back, ever the diligent apprentice. Marcus placed a steady hand on his shoulder, injecting him with power¡ªbut more than that; confidence, strength, surety.

    Terraform simply nodded, not expecting any other response. They all knew what they were rushing towards; now was not the time for rousing speeches or goodbyes.

    Now was the time for unrestrained, barely-recognize-friend-from-foe, reality-bending¡­violence.

    <hr>

    A human¡¯s aura wasn¡¯t much more complicated than a cat¡¯s, believe it or not. There was just more of it.

    So when Terry began to examine Tania¡¯s aura to replicate what he had seen in Marmalade and Eleanor, there was hypothetically more surface area to cover.

    There was a part of him¡ªa small, practically suicidal part¡ªthat wondered if capturing another cat wouldn¡¯t still be faster. But bringing that up to Tania, after the conversation they just had was¡­well, suicidal.

    Still, he was beginning to realize that this was an entirely different beast. He had to hold her aura structure in his mind, compare it to the snapshot he¡¯d taken of Marmalade, and make the alterations he needed¡ªall without inadvertently crippling or killing his friend.

    He reached out, utilizing his aura to shift hers¡ª

    ¡°You¡¯re sure your Danger Sense will warn you if I do something¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± She sighed, even her newfound outlook reaching the limits of its patience after rehashing the conversation for the fifth time. ¡°I can feel it like a physical sensation. You won¡¯t hurt me, I promise!¡±

    He bit his lip, nodded, flicked his gaze up to her face, then away. He believed her, but believing and knowing were two separate states of mind that he was having difficulty reconciling.

    But at the end of the day, it was her aura, her life¡ªand Tinker, Bloodhound, and Lady were eyeing the crowd with barely-constrained avarice. They were hunting him and he needed to anchor a Skill in order to unlock his Midmark Quest. He didn¡¯t know if it would be something achievable here and now; didn¡¯t even know if it would be a Summons Quest or something completely unrelated to his current predicament.

    All he knew was: every other avenue was firmly shut tight. Better to try and fail than do nothing at all.

    First, he began massaging her aura¡ªmuch like Marlon did with his clay on the pottery wheel¡ªworking more by feel than anything. Her aura was rigid at first, and he had to put a bit more effort in to get the same effect he had with the cats. But he must have hit some threshold because her aura shape suddenly folded, drawing in upon itself in an approximation of the shape he was trying for.

    She winced as if in pain and he stopped everything, his eyes widening. She shook her head, putting on a half-smile.

    ¡°You¡¯re fine. Just felt¡­weird.¡±

    He pulled back. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t do this. I¡¯ll find another way¡ª¡±

    She clamped down on his arm, her smile melting, fire in her eyes. ¡°Terry. Stop. I¡¯m just getting used to the sensation, that¡¯s all.¡±

    He hesitated, eyeing her, searching for a hint of deception, any chip in the facade of her tough-girl act. But this was Tania¡ªonce she made up her mind, she¡¯d never back down out of fear or trepidation.

    So he nodded, turning his attention back to her aura.

    She noticeably eased up as he worked, her aura relaxing in step with her body, the tension draining out of her as she realized her Danger Sense wasn¡¯t triggering.

    He fell into her aura, the mold shifting under his direction with increasing ease. Everything else fell away: time, her unconscious squirming, the crick in his neck¡ªall of it. Only the images in his mind and the feel of her shifting aura.

    Some unknown amount of time passed when he felt something tugging at his arm. Then, an insistent voice in his ear.

    He rose from the depths of his concentration like a diver reaching the surface.

    ¡°Terry,¡± Tania hissed. ¡°Terry! Something¡¯s happening!¡±

    His head shot up, following her finger, a fog constricting his mind. As it cleared, he recognized the Council supers staring toward them, somehow piercing past the hundreds of refugees in the interim.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Terry released Tania¡¯s aura, preparing to activate his Master of Light in an attempt to slip out of sight and into the crowd, when a blur of motion whipped past him.

    Something solid, firm as stone, gripped him by the neck. A voice whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

    ¡°You¡¯re my bargaining chip, kid. Don¡¯t struggle. He didn¡¯t mention anything about catching you alive.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind raced to understand, only able to focus on the voice for a split second before he was picked up and carried across the stone floor at high speeds.

    It was Rupert, the A-ranked Duelist who had nearly killed him on the bridge above the Pits.

    ¡°Terry!¡± Tania called from behind him, her voice fading as he was ferried away from her.

    A blink later, he was deposited on the floor, his feet unsteady as he tried to catch his balance. His mask was pulled from his face, the grip on his neck still ironclad.

    ¡°I bring you, the Chameleon,¡± Rupert declared, his tone self-satisfied. ¡°Apparently, his name is Terry.¡± He shrugged, thumbing over his shoulder. ¡°One of his accomplices is back there.¡±

    Before him, Sol¡¯s mouth gaped open, his eyes wide with anger as he stared daggers at the Duelist.

    But Terry¡¯s attention was pulled toward Tinker, the S-ranker¡¯s mask locked in on him, unmoving.

    His voice echoed through his power armor, full of disbelief.

    ¡°Terry¡­Fairway?¡±

    <hr>

    Fifty Stone Elementalists ranging from two dozen lowly Mortals all the way up to a singular Demigod manifested their element to mobilize the largest Awakened army the North American continent had seen since the clash between Dancer and Tempest forty years ago.

    The Demigod in charge of the Stone Elementalists was named H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡ªknown on HeroWatch as Enduring Rock¡ªand was very much aware that the only thing that separated him and the fires of the Eternal Flame was the speed with which he directed their procession.

    It didn¡¯t matter if they transitioned from shale to granite; they were expected to continue apace.

    No, he was expected to continue apace. The Burning One was not prone to accepting excuses, nor explanations, regardless of their validity.

    As a result, it was his directive to maintain a¡­less than maximum speed to account for any density differentials encountered unexpectedly. Should they run into a vein of tougher material, they would increase their power output and bull through such that He did not have reason to notice their existence.

    So it was with some consternation that H¨¦ng Sh¨ª had been forced to maintain one hundred percent power output for the past thirty minutes¡ªwith no break in sight. A simpler man might have blamed bad luck, the gods, or the incompetence of his men and women. But H¨¦ng Sh¨ª knew where there was smoke, there was fire.

    For the tenth time, he extended his senses outward, scanning for signs of that one. The preeminent user of his element, the man who had reached the pinnacle of Stone Elementalism.

    A man H¨¦ng Sh¨ª had idolized for most of his adult life. A man who he was now convinced approached just outside the range of his perception, hampering his team¡¯s progress, fanning the flames licking at H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s toes.

    There were two paths as H¨¦ng Sh¨ª saw it¡ªone, he and his team could continue full bore, punching through stone and supernatural resistance with all their power and hope that the Stone God¡ªTerraform, as he was now known¡ªtired before the fifty of them.

    Or¡­option two¡ªhe could break off from his team and triangulate the God-Tier Elementalist¡¯s position, forcing a confrontation between the Eternal Flame and the Stone God. The chances were high that any such battle would result in the death of his team as collateral¡ªif not himself, as well.

    But in his secret heart, death by stone was more honorable, more earthly, than the kiss of flame.

    He centered himself with a deep breath, feeling his energy course through his limbs in time with his lungs. Then, he sent Mei a System message.

    <blockquote>

    [H¨¦ng Sh¨ª, servant of the Eternal Flame]: My dearest, the time has come. Should I dishonor myself, flee across the water with Chen. I love you, my flower.

    </blockquote>

    Her response came back instantly, but he didn¡¯t read it right away, savoring it for when he might need it the most.

    His heart was pounding now and he was sure his men could hear it beating in his neck. He forced one more calming breath in, then crafted another message with just as much painstaking care, but no love.

    This one went to Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§¡ªotherwise known by the west as Bone Breaker.

    <blockquote>

    [H¨¦ng Sh¨ª, servant of the Eternal Flame]: Lord, I believe the Exiled One approaches. If I break off from the excavation, I might be able to determine his location.

    </blockquote>

    He read and reread the message seven times for luck, then rewrote one word, switching might be to will be. Experience told him that even a single misspoken word had dire consequences in the court of the Eternal Flame.

    In a moment that seemed to defy time, his mental command to send the System message was in lockstep with the whoosh of air that ruffled his clothes. After many years in His Excellency¡¯s court, H¨¦ng Sh¨ª knew better than to flinch, but could not hide the flutter of his heart or the hairs standing on his neck.

    Behind him, he sensed Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ mere inches from his back, his breath hot against H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s neck.

    He quickly bowed¡ªeven without looking¡ªcasting his eyes to the stone and drawing his aura in tight so as to not offend or appear to challenge the Bone Breaker.

    Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ was God-Tier¡ªan S-ranker in the west¡ªand was therefore privileged to kill, maim, or do worse, to a Demigod-Tier Awakened such as H¨¦ng Sh¨ª. The mere fact that H¨¦ng Sh¨ª was the highest-ranking Stone Elementalist deep underground and a thousand miles from home meant less than nothing; punishment could be long, slow, and deferred until whenever was convenient.

    Not to mention his wife and son who were back at the staging area two hundred miles west or his extended family held hostage back in Asia.

    He¡¯d rather die a million deaths than have his entire lineage face the wrath of the Eternal Flame.

    ¡°Stand.¡±

    Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§¡¯s voice was like tectonic plates shifting, a low rumble that H¨¦ng Sh¨ª felt in his gut. He rose as commanded, facing the God-Tier Duelist with eyes averted. The Bone Breaker was the biggest man H¨¦ng Sh¨ª had ever seen. That much was clear just from staring at his calves, which were thicker than H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s thighs. And they stretched up impossibly high, Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§¡¯s knees nearly at H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s waist.

    But it wasn¡¯t his musculature that made him a living legend, nor his towering height.

    Grinding into the ground was his System-given weapon¡ªa two-meter tall club that seemed to be cast from H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s own element. But his senses confirmed that it was not stone. Rumor suggested Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ had slain a dragon or some alien demon while Summoned for his Capstone Quest. His club was purported to be the femur¡ªor some other limb bone¡ªof that unearthly creature.

    He hefted that bone club now, propping it against his shoulder in a blur that made H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s balls clench.

    If the killing blow were to come by the Bone Breaker, I¡¯d never have time to warn Mei¡­

    For once, he actually longed for the flames.

    ¡°The Gu¨°ji¨¥ L¨£osh¨³ is near?¡± The rat that runs across the street¡­despised by all.

    Saliva pooled in his mouth and he was forced to swallow lest he tried to answer and drool over himself. His audible gulp would have shamed him once, many decades past. Now, he leaned into his obvious terror, forcing a small quaver in his voice as he responded.

    He knew that he had made his gamble by summoning Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ over and there was no backing out now.

    ¡°Yes, Lord. I sense resistance pushing against my power¡ª¡±

    The club shifted and H¨¦ng Sh¨ª stopped speaking, stopped moving¡ªdidn¡¯t even dare take a breath.

    ¡°Your power?¡± Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ scoffed¡ªa sound that drew side-eyes from his nearby subordinates; they understood that that scoff had been the precursor to many, many, deaths. ¡°A hundred of you grubby earth worms shifting away at this dirt. My Breaker¡ª¡± He hefted his club in one hand, holding it high above his head. H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s gaze darted up between his eyelashes, watching to see if that club was coming down to break him. His pre-crafted message to Mei hung ready to be sent with a thought. ¡°¡ªcould dig faster than you scum¡ª¡±

    ¡°G¨³¡­¡± A sibilant hiss whispered across the traveling court. Breaths held, sphincters clenched, eyes closed involuntarily¡ªthe very air seemed to still.

    And the temperature in the large excavated tunnel shifted five degrees hotter.

    Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ was not immune to this effect, the arm holding his club clenching as he gripped its handle tighter. A scowl flickered across his face, his eyes burning with unconcealed hate for the slightest of moments, before he slipped his mask back into place.

    H¨¦ng Sh¨ª spotted the open contempt, of course, but wasn¡¯t affected by it in the slightest. Though a single tier separated him and Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§, that tier was a gulf as wide as the ocean, as deep as the inky black that separated Earth from the Heavens. He could no more bridge that divide with a word in His Excellency¡¯s ear than he could leap to the moon.

    Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ let his club drop into his free hand, then turned on his heels and bowed toward the god reclining upon his palanquin. Walls of white fire burned around the edges of the palanquin, blocking the Eternal Flame from view. A single, pale hand stretched forward, parting the flame with a wave of aura that burned like the sun.

    ¡°Approach¡­H¨¦ng Sh¨ª.¡±

    Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ moved in a blur, seeming to disappear, then reappear, at the base of the palanquin, where his own Royal Seat was carried by lesser Duelists.

    H¨¦ng Sh¨ª also moved quickly, utilizing small, discreet bursts of his aura to propel his feet forward on the stone. In mere seconds, he was kneeling before the Eternal Flame¡¯s palanquin, his head bowed low.

    A whisper sounded in his ear, causing his breath to catch. No, he realized, not a whisper. His senses picked up on the aura a moment later, though he knew better than to follow it back to its source.

    You may step into the flames, the voice whispered in his mind.

    His thoughts faltered, even as his feet moved of their own accord. He was up the palanquin steps, nearing the wall of white-hot flame before his thoughts caught up to him.

    Not in twenty years had he been invited within the flames. Never had the Eternal Flame¡¯s Hypnotist spoken in his mind.

    He found himself suddenly in a panic.

    If she rips my thoughts from my mind, all is lost! Chen¡­Mei¡­

    There was nothing to be done, no other course of action. Hesitation now would mean a slow, burning death¡ªif he was lucky.

    So he reached forward, the heat nearly unbearable, the hairs on his hand curling, burning¡ªhe was burning¡­

    ¡­Then, his hand touched the fire and the pain ceased. He took another step forward, engulfing his entire arm, then his torso. All it took was a second step and he was past the opaque wall of flame.

    Lounging across a bed of cushions¡­was an old man. Pale, wrinkly skin that sagged against thin limbs; a freckled scalp crisscrossed with wisps of white hair that did little to hide sickly flesh; eyes darting, milky white, finding nothing.

    Qui Shen, known as the Eternal Flame among his subjects, the Incinerator among his enemies, the undisputed ruler of most of Asia and the most feared man in the world¡­

    ¡­Was a blind, frail-looking, old man.

    That wasn¡¯t to say he was weak¡ªfar from it. His aura was brighter than the sun, dense and yet flaring out wide to encompass everything around him. Just looking at him with his senses physically pained H¨¦ng Sh¨ª.

    Still, he had never observed His Excellency without his flame armor¡ªand now he understood why.

    Aura notwithstanding, the Eternal Flame looked more like H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s aging grandfather than the ruler of a billion people.

    He was quick to mask his thoughts, his eyes flicking to the woman standing at the Eternal Flame¡¯s shoulder. A God-Tier Hypnotist was said to be able to read surface thoughts without effort and rip away deeper thoughts and emotions with nothing but a simple sweep of their aura.

    His knees had never struck the ground harder, his forehead practically cracking against the marble floor of the palanquin. It calmed his nerves to be in contact with his element, grounded him in a way that almost tricked him into thinking he could survive this day.

    Heat washed across his body as the Eternal Flame spoke.

    ¡°Report¡­¡±

    The air felt dry, his throat burning. He almost wished he could drool now, just to stave off the heat clutching at his throat.

    ¡°Your¡ªahem¡ªYour Excellency, pardon this one¡¯s miserly presence. As I reported to Lord Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§, I¡­ah, believe that the Exiled One is near. My team, ah, meets resistance that cannot be accounted for by mere stone density.¡±

    His mind churned, every word he¡¯d uttered second-guessed, every syllable sounding weak, incompetent, to his own ears.

    The temperature increased again, and H¨¦ng Sh¨ª watched as sweat began to drip down his nose, splatter against the stone into little pools.

    He felt aura pass between the Hypnotist and His Excellency, but did not dare taste its flavor with his own aura¡ªno matter how much he yearned to know what they silently discussed.

    Moments that felt like hours ticked by, the sweat slipping into his eyes, blinding him. He blinked them away as best he could, knowing that to reach a hand to wipe away the sting could very likely result in his death.

    Then, the silence parted like a cool breeze whispering among tall grass.

    ¡°How certain¡­are you?¡±

    The question threw the already flustered H¨¦ng Sh¨ª off and his mind scrambled to process those words.

    ¡°Very, ahem, absolutely certain, Your Excellency.¡±

    Another wave of aura passed between them. Then, the woman spoke, her voice full of danger, as if she knew the answer to her question before asking and were simply testing his truthfulness.

    ¡°How many could you slip past his net without him realizing it?¡±

    H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s mind was a storm, his thoughts a ship tossed across the towering waves. How many could I slip past¡­? They intended a sneak attack? But on whom? The Stone God!?

    He could flank¡ªmaybe¡ªbut he could never launch a sneak attack inside the Stone God¡¯s own element.

    ¡°Yes, we intend a sneak attack,¡± the woman said. Had I spoken out loud? ¡°But not on the Exiled One.¡± She leaned in, her eyes seeming to burrow into his very thoughts, penetrating like needles under fingernails. ¡°You will ferry His Excellency, myself, and a strike team past the net¡­straight toward the refugees fleeing for the surface.¡±

    What? Why? He couldn¡¯t make sense of it. Hostages? The Stone God would never cede the Divinity for mere human lives¡ªnot to the Eternal Flame, at least.

    The woman smiled¡ªa cruel expression on her face, her cheekbones sharp, practically pushing through the skin.

    ¡°We have it on good authority that the Exiled One no longer possesses the Divinity.¡±

    The Eternal Flame leaned forward and she stopped speaking out of respect, pulling back to her full height.

    ¡°Gu¨°ji¨¥ L¨£osh¨³ has passed the Divinity¡­to a weak¡­broken¡­former god.¡± Red fire flamed to life behind His eyes, giving him a demonic visage. ¡°Get me to him¡­undetected¡­and you will join¡­my court¡­¡±

 B2 - Chapter 18: Misdirection

    The plan was clear, precise, and absolutely insane.

    Qui Shen was the ultimate target¡ªthat much was obvious. If they could take him off the board, Sol and the refugees had a chance should it come down to a fight. So their formation was angled like a dagger, designed to pierce the outer skin of the army and penetrate to the core.

    Terraform¡¯s senses couldn¡¯t range fully across the moving force¡ªnot without revealing himself inadvertently. But what little aura he could infuse into the stone that surrounded their enemies was enough to get a rough gauge of their numbers and power.

    Latest word from across the ocean was that Qui Shen¡¯s court was comprised of three S-rankers, beside the man himself¡ªXiang Hao, Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§, and a third unnamed S-ranker who was nonetheless reported to be his closest confidante.

    Terraform was personally familiar with the first two¡ªhad been their elders, once upon a time. Xiang Hao was an S-ranking Summoner whose thralls had been spectral animals of the jungle¡ªcrocodiles, tigers, and more. Upon achieving S-rank, he had adopted the name Xiang Hao, in honor of the penultimate summon he employed¡ªthe mighty elephant.

    He was less concerned with Hao, as his towering summon would be difficult to harness in the tight confines of the tunnel and would be just as likely to impede friend as trample foe.

    Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ was the one that concerned Terraform the most. As young men, Terraform had lorded over G¨³, flexing his power ruthlessly as he had ranked up. He suspected G¨³ would have turned into the sadistic man he was today without Terraform¡¯s bullying, but he couldn¡¯t help but feel partially responsible for the reign of terror the man had instituted in the decades since Terraform had been exiled.

    And an S-ranked Duelist was always a powerful threat, demonstrating strength and speed that could be blinding and unstoppable.

    The final S-ranker was supposed to be a Hypnotist, but no further word of confirmation had escaped Asia. All he knew for certain was that she was a woman, and had garnered the ear of Qui Shen over the past years.

    A high-ranking Hypnotist was almost as terrifying as a high-ranking Duelist. Depending on her specialty, she might be capable of trapping his team in her Mind World, turning friend to foe with thought implantation, or even shatter weaker minds outright.

    She would need to be countered if his team were to survive the opening salvo. Though Hunter was a prodigy of mental warfare, only Marcus Amplifying him would make the battlefield level.

    And Terraform needed that power boost to strike at Qui Shen.

    Hunter understood that his role was to buy seconds of distraction from the mysterious Hypnotist¡ªeven sixty seconds would be a blessing. It meant a death Terraform wouldn¡¯t wish upon his worst enemies¡ªlet alone one of his closest friends. His mind would be shattered irreparably, reducing a brilliant man into a drooling sack of flesh, trapped inside his own body but helpless to act.

    All Terraform could promise was that he would seek to kill Hunter as his final act and spare him further torture should they fail.

    Louisa and Juliette were tasked with containing Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ and Xiang Hao, two powerful A-rankers poised against the towering strength of S-rankers. All to buy Terraform the time he needed to strike.

    It would have to be enough.

    From high above the traveling army, Terraform split the stone roof with a silent flex of power. The five of them abseiled down on gossamer strands of glass, approaching Qui Shen¡¯s moving palanquin from above.

    In a split second, his mind took in the entire scene; G¨³ lounging on his small throne at the base of the palanquin on one side; on the other, Xiang Hao rode an ephemeral tiger that seemed to hover over the ground; dozens of men and women labored with aura to cut through the unyielding stone; another couple hundred marched in lock step behind Qui Shen¡¯s palanquin.

    And then there was the square of impenetrable flames, white-hot and opaque to his eyes. Aura gushed from somewhere¡ªan Artifact, he guessed¡ªto fuel the curtain of flame that obscured all sight into Qui Shen¡¯s palanquin. The aura was so dense, Terraform couldn¡¯t penetrate it with his senses.

    No matter; he didn¡¯t need to see his foe to strike.

    With a subtle shift of his power, he moved Juliette and Louisa¡¯s strand of glass so that they¡¯d land among Xiang Hao and Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§. Another shift brought Hunter and Marcus within touching range as they continued to fall upon their prey like spiders on a web.

    Marcus¡¯ hand clasped his shoulder. Power rushed into him, filling his reserves until they felt ready to burst. Then, more power. He felt submerged in it, his aura billowing out, encompassing the stone and earth around him for a dozen miles.

    Rather than let it spread, he pulled it in tight, drawing his aura to him in a condensed wave. The stone shivered in response, resonating on a level of harmony Terraform had dreamed of, but rarely experienced. It rose to meet him, rising around the edges of the palanquin like a living entity.

    Su¨¬ G¨³ Zh¨§ and Xian Hao felt the rush of power as well, looking toward each other in confusion, but not thinking to glance up; no one ever looked up.

    The shifting stone had the quality of a rising wave more than anything as it rose up around the edges of the moving platform. As it continued to rise, Terraform met it, felt it morph around his body like a suit of armor.

    He crashed through the flame a moment later, spearing through it toward where Qui Shen and his Hypnotist would be.

    As soon as he penetrated the supernatural flames of the Artifact, he recognized something was amiss. Hunter¡¯s voice called out at same time, confirming what his senses told him.

    ¡°There¡¯s no one there!¡±

    Louisa and Juliette hit the other S-rankers in a wave of boiling aura, drowning them for a split second in its sheer depth. Xiang Hao¡¯s spectral tiger dissipated, the tie between master and thrall severed by the sudden burst of energy.  G¨³ was stunned by the power for a moment, but shook his head with a snort¡ªlike an enraged bull missing its target.

    Then, his giant club smashed into the ground, ripping up stone like the shift of a quake. Terraform diverted his power to settle the earth around Juliette and Louisa, but pushed most of his attention into the surrounding tunnel, searching for Qui Shen¡¯s signature.

    All around them, the lesser ranked Awakened looked on in confusion and terror; to them, this was a battle between gods¡ªnot the place of mere mortals.

    With a flick of his eyes, he directed Hunter to help Juliette and Louisa while he continued to examine the stone and the Awakened around them.

    There is a chance the Hypnotist obscures my senses, he thought, but the alternative scares me even more¡­

    But there was no time to hedge¡ªthe two enemy S-rankers would be more than enough to slaughter his team if he didn¡¯t intervene. Marcus¡¯ power continued to surge into him, propelling him to heights he¡¯d only experienced while attempting to digest the Singularity.

    With a thought, the stone moved, entwining Xiang Hao¡¯s body even as his namesake materialized. A portal cut through the air, a hundred feet tall, and a powerful elephant smashed through it, tusks flaring wildly in anticipation.

    Terraform crossed the distance toward Hao in a split second, whispering in his ear in Mandarin.

    ¡°Get rid of it.¡± He punctuated the order with a flex of aura, squeezing Hao tight enough to suck the breath from his lungs.

    Xiang Hao¡¯s eyes bugged out, the defiance melting away under Terraform¡¯s steady gaze. A moment later, the elephant trumpeted once in rage, then retreated back into the portal from where it had come.

    G¨³ had recovered his club from the earth and was physically pushing against the aura arrayed against him by Juliette and Louisa, even as Hunter assaulted his mind. It was clear that the three of them were losing and the gigantic Duelist would break free from their attack at any moment.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Terraform stirred the stone beneath G¨³¡¯s feet, emulsifying it until it took on a tar-like viscosity. The man began to sink, his feet disappearing, then his shins. As he realized the stone was sucking him under, his focus shifted, giving the others a chance to regain the momentum, pressing the attack on both his mind and aura.

    Across the wide tunnel where Qui Shen¡¯s army marched, the commanders had finally spurred their troops into a semblance of a counterattack. Terraform flexed the stone around the palanquin, forming an army of glass and rock golems that rose from the earth like specters. A hundred, then two hundred, then five hundred golems formed a defensive ring, glass spears and swords leveled in threat.

    G¨³ slipped deeper into the stone now, his eyes going wild as he fought his descent in pure animal panic. Terraform hardened the pool of liquid stone, solidifying the Duelist inside a rock prison.

    If anyone could break free, it was an S-ranked Duelist like G¨³. But it would take time and effort¡ªand certainly wouldn¡¯t be possible with Hunter invading his mind.

    With the two S-rankers subdued, Terraform finally had a moment to panic.

    He sent Sol a System message, praying he wasn¡¯t too late.

    <hr>

    Space still broiled and bucked in the Market, but Marlon had been able to quell it enough to portal out. He felt his babies through their connection, slipping away slowly in his perception. But when he tried to bridge space to connect them, he felt a powerful lock blocking his efforts.

    He sent a message to Terry, but growled in frustration a moment later when the boy didn¡¯t reply.

    Another message went to Terraform¡ªif he couldn¡¯t rejoin the refugees, he could at least assist in the fight with Qui Shen¡¯s army, broken legs or not.

    But to his annoyance, it seemed Terraform and the others had everything in hand.

    If I¡¯m forced to live, can I at least get another fight in!

    As he reached out toward the location Terraform sent him, there was no restriction blocking his powers. After a moment of questing, he sensed the ocean of power that was Terraform and opened space between them.

    He was propped against a rock, his broken legs splayed out before him. Rather than stand to walk through his portal, he simply angled it beneath him, allowing himself to slid through it.

    When he appeared on the other side, he was more than a bit confused by the scene before him.

    A thousand Awakened were arrayed in ranks, kneeling toward a single person. High above them all, Terraform stood on a stone pillar, regarding them stoically.

    Behind him, a familiar voice spoke.

    ¡°That¡¯s just what his ego needs.¡±

    Marlon craned his neck around, wincing as the pain flared in his legs. Louisa stood nearby, her arms crossed, a characteristic scowl on her face.

    He grunted in reply.

    ¡°Skipper dead, then?¡± the woman asked gruffly, her tone implying that anything less would have been shameful.

    He grunted again.

    ¡°Better than he deserved,¡± she replied.

    Looking up to meet her eye, he grunted a third time but with a much more agreeable tone.

    She looked down at him, snorting humorlessly. Her eyes tracked over his bent legs.

    ¡°You¡¯ll live?¡± There was no charity in her tone, but he understood her well enough to sense the concern beneath the stony demeanor.

    He resisted the urge to grunt a fourth time.

    ¡°If I have to.¡±

    She nodded icily, her eyes tracking over his head. He followed her gaze to see two men encased in stone up to their chins.

    ¡°Yes, Marlon. I think you¡¯ll have to. There¡¯s still work to be done.¡±

    He sighed, turning to watch Terraform as the man drifted down from his pillar on a strand of glass. His eyes found Marlon, a slight smile touching his face.

    ¡°Good to see you alive, Marlon.¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t the plan,¡± he replied. ¡°But Skipper wasn¡¯t up to the task.¡±

    Terraform chuckled, crouching down to put a hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad, even if you¡¯re not.¡±

    Marlon grunted in reply, then nodded toward the kneeling army.

    ¡°Why¡¯d they lose their spine so fast?¡± He looked around the large excavated cavern. ¡°Hardly seems like they put up a fight.¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t!¡±

    Juliette came into sight, a wide smile on her face.

    ¡°Soon as Terraform subdued the S-rankers, they folded!¡±

    Terraform nodded. ¡°Qui Shen¡¯s fostered this idea that S-rankers are gods. The lower ranks don¡¯t even dare meet their eyes half the time. The thought of fighting me without their S-rankers leading would be a sort of blasphemy.¡±

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a small piece of luck, I suppose,¡± Marlon said.

    Juliette came around from behind to stand beside Terraform when she saw Marlon¡¯s twisted legs. Her smile melted instantly. ¡°Marlon, dear! You¡¯re hurt!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t fuss, Juliette.¡± He softened his tone a bit so as not to hurt her feelings. ¡°War¡¯s not over.¡± He turned toward Terraform, flint in his voice. ¡°Where¡¯s Qui Shen?¡±

    Terraform¡¯s face darkened. ¡°We think he went ahead to catch the others.¡±

    Marlon felt the anger brewing deep in his chest. ¡°How did he know you wouldn¡¯t have the Singularity?¡±

    Terraform gave him a meaningful stare and Marlon slammed his fist into the ground.

    ¡°That slimy bastard.¡±

    Terraform nodded once. ¡°Can you get us there?¡±

    Marlon scowled, feeling out into space once more. They were closer now and he could see the space around the refugees in his mind. A heavy blanket lay over the surrounding area, sturdy and powerful. He could tell from its static nature that it was an Artifact rather than a Traveler. And from its strength, it had the feel of an S-ranker¡¯s handiwork.

    ¡°There¡¯s an Artifact blocking travel.¡± He grimaced, the words leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He hated others playing with his domain. ¡°Maybe if we get close enough, I can push through.¡± He shook his head. ¡°But not here.¡±

    Terraform sighed, glancing back at the two imprisoned S-rankers.

    ¡°We can¡¯t leave them. They¡¯ll rally the army and be on our heels.¡±

    ¡°Just kill them, Terraform!¡± Louisa growled.

    Marlon felt himself reluctantly agreeing with the woman.

    But Terraform¡¯s face darkened.

    ¡°I don¡¯t execute prisoners, Louisa. You know that.¡±

    ¡°Even when the fate of the world hangs in the balance?¡± Her voice was quiet, but full of steel.

    Terraform held her gaze for a moment, then looked back toward the prisoners. Marlon could feel the indecision through the set of his shoulders.

    Then, he stood straighter, turning to face them.

    ¡°Let me try one more thing. If that doesn¡¯t work.¡± His eyes flashed with magic, the aura all around them shifting sympathetically. ¡°I¡¯ll kill them myself.¡±

    <hr>

    Terry¡¯s heart fluttered in his chest. Rupert gripped him by the upper arm and neck, his fingers digging in painfully tight. He was forced forward by the irresistible strength of the A-ranker.

    The shock in Tinker¡¯s voice gave way to pure anger as he appeared to process the revelation of Terry¡¯s identity.

    ¡°I knew James was playing me! That look in his eye¡ªhe was relieved when you got away.¡±

    Terry had been distracted by Rupert¡¯s painful grip, but Tinker¡¯s words snagged on his thoughts.

    ¡°I¡¯m not working for my father,¡± he said. ¡°And definitely not for the Emperor.¡±

    Tinker¡¯s steel mask stared back impassively for a moment, then irised away, revealing the man¡¯s face.

    ¡°I find that hard to believe.¡± His eyes flicked toward Sol, his voice curious. ¡°Though I do wonder at your connection with all of this, Sol.¡±

    Sol¡¯s face was unreadable to Terry, but the man¡¯s limbs visibly trembled, his eyes seeming lost as they stared toward the middle space between him and Rupert.

    Tinker seemed to notice something amiss as well, but decided not to press the man. His eyes traced over Terry, stopping on Rupert¡¯s grip on his arm.

    ¡°You can release the boy, Mr. Olivier.¡± His eyes trailed up toward Terry¡¯s, a solid certainty lying there. ¡°He¡¯s nowhere to run to now.¡±

    The grip on his arm and neck eased, but didn¡¯t release. Tinker¡¯s eyes flashed up toward Rupert.

    ¡°Uh, pardon, but I think we should be moving.¡± There was a hint of hurry in Rupert¡¯s voice. ¡°I¡¯ll hold onto the boy just in case he gets any ideas.¡±

    Tinker¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    ¡°We are moving.¡±

    ¡°Well, yes, but I mean us. You have your fugitive.¡± Rupert shook Terry¡ªhard; rattled him like a kid with a Christmas present trying to guess what was inside. He felt like his brain ricocheted in his skull and he had to push down the nausea threatening to rise. ¡°There¡¯s no reason to delay and¡ª¡± He looked around as if checking for eavesdroppers. ¡°¡ªwe can¡¯t let Qui Shen get his hands on the Singularity.¡±

    Bloodhound crossed his arms, his eyes boring into Rupert.

    ¡°Thought you didn¡¯t believe in the Singularities.¡± He turned to Lady with raised eyebrows. ¡°You remember what he said?¡±

    Lady pursed her lips and nodded.

    ¡°I believe the words he used were: flaccid justifications of the Originals to justify their wars.¡±

    Bloodhound snapped his fingers, turning back to Rupert.

    ¡°Flaccid. What an interesting choice of words.¡± Judging from the up-and-down look he gave the man, the implication was clear enough.

    Terry felt Rupert tense, fingernails digging into his flesh. He tried not to squirm, but the pain was ramping, the muscles in his arms and neck tensing to protect themselves. Even with his Physical Attributes in the high Es, that was nothing in the face of an A-ranking Duelist.

    ¡°I warned you!¡± Rupert hissed. ¡°I warned you not to disrespect me!¡±

    Bloodhound stepped forward and a moment later, the fire team that had been lounging out of earshot perked up, weapons shifting in anticipation.

    ¡°Boys,¡± Lady scolded.

    ¡°Everyone stop. I just got a message¡ª¡± Sol¡¯s voice was low, lost in the bluster between the A-rankers.

    ¡°I could rip all your heads off before you could blink!¡± Rupert growled to the fireteam behind Bloodhound.

    Blades flashed into Bloodhound¡¯s hands, curved kukri held loosely as he eyed Rupert.

    But all Terry could focus on was the grip around his neck. Blood pounded behind his eyes as the pressure increased.

    Sol¡¯s skin began to glow, but Terry¡¯s world was narrowing in, the darkness closing around his vision.

    Tinker put out an armored hand, taking a step forward. ¡°Calm down, Mr. Olivier.¡±

    Rupert¡¯s eyes flicked toward the Artificer, then down to the blades in Bloodhound¡¯s hands.

    ¡°Tell him to put the blades away!¡±

    ¡°Bloodhound,¡± Tinker said. ¡°Don¡¯t escalate.¡±

    Terry¡¯s hand was pulling against the grip on his neck, but it was like digging at steel. His vision faded, the strength in his arm sapped away.

    A blast of blinding light seared his eyes and he groaned in pain and shock. The hands holding him tight let go, his knees cracking against the stone. He coughed violently now that the pressure on his neck was gone, but even in his rough state, he heard the words Sol said next.

    ¡°Do I have your attention now!¡± he growled. ¡°Terraform just messaged me. Qui Shen is gone.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, gone?¡± Tinker asked. ¡°He¡¯s turned around?¡±

    Terry blinked away the spots in his eyes, glancing up to see the naked worry on Sol¡¯s face.

    ¡°No. His army is still coming straight for us. But he seems to have sneaked away.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Lady asked. ¡°Why?¡±

    Then, the screams started.

 B2 - Chapter 19: Ultimatum

    Something pinged in the back of Terry¡¯s mind. A thought worming its way through the fog and the phantom screams echoing in his ears.

    I¡¯m alive¡­

    Then, the sound of blood rushing in his head faded and he realized suddenly that the screams he heard weren¡¯t phantom screams.

    His head shot up, taking in the panicking crowd in an instant.

    The mass of refugees rippled, recoiling from some unseen thing, like a herd fleeing the wolves in their midst.

    A pulse of aura flashed out from that unseen epicenter, extending like talons over the crowd, gripping them tight, yanking them to heel like a leash. The screaming cut off instantly, but the terror remained.

    The entire group of nearly a thousand people suddenly stood rigid, but Terry could see their eyes flitting about wildly, searching for their attacker with an animal panic.

    Hands gripped under his arms and for a moment, he thought Rupert was latching his iron grip on him once more. He started to buck against the Duelist, when he spotted Tania standing over him, her eyes wide with concern.

    ¡°It¡¯s him,¡± she hissed, unable to hide the terror in her voice. ¡°My Danger Sense didn¡¯t warn me until right before.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind felt sluggish and it took him a moment to realize what she meant by ¡®him.¡¯ But as the realization hit, the man himself stepped into sight, and Terry felt his stomach drop.

    Pure white flame wreathed Qui Shen as he stepped into view. His features were obscured, just the barest silhouette visible through the blinding fire. The frozen refugees visibly sweat as he passed them, the heat of his presence forcing their eyes shut. A second wave of power stretched out¡ªnot from Qui Shen, but from somewhere among the refugees¡ªwashing over the crowd. Wherever the aura passed, people knelt and bowed their heads.

    The compulsion struck their group a moment later, but the distance sucked most of the strength from its call. All the same, Terry felt his limbs trying to move, his mind cowering in awe at the flaming god striding toward him.

    He forced the thoughts away, then rose unsteadily to his feet. Tania swayed at his side, clearly affected by the compulsion, but he pushed his aura out, dampening the effect. She shook her head to clear it, then scowled toward Qui Shen.

    The flames shined bright, searing across his vision. His eyes watered but he wouldn¡¯t let himself look away. Aura shifted around Qui Shen and for a moment, Terry thought he might skip the parlay and dive right into the fight.

    There was nothing someone at his rank could do¡ªhe could only brace and wait for the heat.

    But a moment later, the flames seemed to shift to his eyes, the aura shaping it visibly. The sound of crackling fire coalesced into a voice, deep and violent, like the whoosh of sparks as a log split from the bonfire¡¯s heat.

    ¡°You know who I am. You know what I¡¯ve come for.¡± His mouth¡ªbarely visible beneath the white flames¡ªdidn¡¯t move with the sound. Somehow, he was manipulating the fire itself to speak. ¡°Relinquish it and we shall have no quarrel.¡±

    Terry was stunned by the words; Qui Shen was offering a trade? It was simple enough, he supposed. Their lives¡ªand the lives of every civilian here¡ªin exchange for the Singularity.

    He looked toward Sol and Tinker to gauge their reaction.

    Tinker¡¯s mask lay open, revealing the weathered face beneath. He licked his lips nervously, his large power armor doing little to hide the obvious doubt in his posture.

    But when Terry looked toward Sol, he was surprised by the steady glint in his eyes, the magic coursing through them in golden waves. His aura pulsed powerfully, cycling around him like a tide pool.

    He¡¯s preparing for a fight, Terry realized.

    Behind Tinker, Bloodhound, Lady, and Rupert appeared to be shifting through various levels of fear and doubt. Bloodhound had the resigned look of a man beyond his depth, but willing to face whatever came next. Lady stared toward Tinker with the desperate focus of a child waiting for their parents to step in. Rupert was openly panicking, glancing between Tinker and Sol fitfully.

    A handful of seconds passed, then Tinker spoke.

    ¡°We know you, Qui Shen. But we don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve¡ª¡±

    Sol¡¯s voice cut across the cavern.

    ¡°You¡¯ve come for this.¡±

    A wave of power washed over Terry, filling him with a sense of rightness, a vibration that resonated with his aura. Something called to him, pulled at his attention.

    His gaze shot toward Sol, where the Metaphysical Singularity floated between his palms.

    <hr>

    Two people sat in silence in a pitch-black cave, one condensing his aura, cycling it through his limbs to increase their strength and hardiness. The other, taming the infected Singularity nestled deep in her chest.

    Slowly, she passed her senses over the tainted object, feeling the chaos like splinters sticking up from rough wood. When she found them, she focused her aura into a thin point, gripped the splinter¡¯s edge, and pulled it free.

    Another chaos burr was removed, then eradicated with a flex of her aura.

    Her father had passed over the Spectral Singularity months ago¡ªshe was better equipped as an Alterant and former Disruptor to peel away the chaos riddled through its make up. But it still resisted her, insidious in the way it wove throughout the Singularity¡ªeven more difficult to purge than the parasitic being that had been her System.

    As she thought about her former System, her only regret was that she could no longer use her System chat. If she still had it, she could have messaged James to tell him she was alive.

    She could have messaged Terry to apologize for leaving him, to beg for forgiveness¡­

    Her thoughts were interrupted by a stirring in the air around them. Both Penelope and Silver¡¯s eyes shot open at the same time. Through the dark, they locked onto each other.

    ¡°Which one?¡± her father asked softly.

    She felt the pulse of power touch her skin, resonate with the sibling Singularity inside of her. There was a familiar flavor to that power, one that synchronized with her own aura.

    ¡°It¡¯s one of my Aspects,¡± she replied.

    Silver nodded. ¡°Metaphysical, then. Dancer wouldn¡¯t let his free¡ªeven for a second.¡±

    ¡°Close, too,¡± she added. ¡°Can you get us there?¡±

    She heard him rise to his feet, felt his senses range out.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­strange,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°I feel a blockage.¡± She felt more than saw his eyes lock on her. ¡°Artifact, I think. I might be able to break it with enough time¡­¡±

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    She chewed her lip in thought. As she opened her mouth to speak, the pulsing power cut off at the source, like a fire doused in water.

    ¡°And it¡¯s gone.¡± She sighed, her shoulders sagging.

    ¡°I still have it,¡± her father whispered, his voice tight with concentration. ¡°I¡¯m tracking the Artifact.¡±

    Hope blossomed in her chest¡ªand anticipation. If they could acquire a fourth Singularity, they¡¯d achieve a Majority.

    Then, things would be¡­maybe not easier. But at least momentum would be on their side. Then¡­she could finally turn her focus toward finding Terry.

    <hr>

    ¡°Sol!¡± Tinker hissed. ¡°What are you doing!¡±

    The Singularity felt alive in his hands; a writhing web of power that shifted and pulsed in a rhythm that reminded him of blood coursing through veins. He almost thought it spoke to him, a flicker of a whisper echoing in the back of his mind.

    It was rejecting him, he knew. Not a violent rejection, but more of a soft letdown. A subtle sensation of wrongness, incompatibility.

    When he¡¯d first accepted it from Terraform, he¡¯d felt that rejection powerfully. Let it resonate with his own self doubts and trauma, amplifying the damage Hunter had helped reveal.

    But now, he understood. It wasn¡¯t that they were incompatible or that Sol wasn¡¯t enough for it to accept him. The realization had come to him the moment Qui Shen had stepped into view.

    He¡¯d felt true resonance in the moment, the pulse of power emanating from the man possessed a flavor to it that called to him.

    Sol had always recognized that he wasn¡¯t meant to be a world power¡ªhad never had ambitions to become one. He had always been content with the moderate responsibility of ruling Topeka, never striving for more than he could handle.

    Terrence had made the first move in their little conflict and Sol had been forced to respond in kind. But he¡¯d never wanted Wichita.

    Things had just¡­escalated beyond his intention or control. Once the hound was out of the gate, there was no pulling it back in.

    His imprisonment had given him time¡ªtoo much time, really¡ªto contemplate his lack of ambition. He didn¡¯t see it as a flaw to understand one¡¯s place in the grand scheme of the world. But he hadn¡¯t considered the ramifications of his actions on those that followed him.

    The Knights of Sol were dead.

    But more than that, Topeka suffered. The civilians that he had purported to lead were the victims of his arrogant disregard. Terrence and the Council fought over his city like animals over a corpse.

    When Terry had saved him from his grandfather¡¯s dungeon, Sol had known with steel-clad certainty that he could never lead again. Yet, somehow, months later, he found himself entrusted by Terraform to not only shield this Singularity, but shepherd his people to safety.

    Safety from the mad man standing across from him now.

    ¡°This is what you¡¯ve come for, isn¡¯t it?¡± he called to the mad man. ¡°Traveled thousands of miles in secret for this.¡±

    He felt the aura around Qui Shen shiver, an involuntary spasm that seemed to trace across the man¡¯s entire being.

    ¡°Give it to me,¡± the flames hissed.

    Sol turned his attention toward the Singularity in his hands. Then, he let it sink back into his chest, feeling the warmth of its power spread across his limbs.

    The flames encircling Qui Shen flared brighter, but Sol wasn¡¯t afraid of a little light.

    His voice felt easy, his limbs relaxed for what felt like the first time in years. ¡°I need to speak to my people. I¡¯ll hold on to it for now.¡±

    ¡°You may confer. But know this: if you don¡¯t surrender the Divinity.¡± The flames licked the stone floor, molten fire sneaking toward the refugees. ¡°I¡¯ll burn every last one of them.¡±

    Sol turned without another word, noting the fear and hesitation in the eyes staring at him.

    ¡°Tinker?¡± he asked quietly. ¡°Where do Dancer and the SPC stand?¡±

    A pained expression crossed his face.

    ¡°I¡­received word from Dancer.¡± He frowned, hesitation heavy in his tone. ¡°He¡¯s offered you four asylum...¡± His eyes flitted toward the crowd of people for the briefest moment, the shame visible as he turned back to Sol. ¡°Just you four.¡±

    Sol felt Rupert smile at his side, quickly masked with a look of reluctant acceptance.

    Next to him, the confusion on Terry¡¯s face shifted, recognition flashing in his wide eyes before they narrowed, his jaw clenching visibly.

    ¡°Fuck that¡ª¡± he started, but Sol held out a hand. Terry looked toward him in shock, then a flash of betrayal, but he returned that look with a steady gaze. He could see the kaleidoscope of emotions pass through the boy¡¯s eyes before he settled, his trust only slightly marred by confusion.

    Turning back to Tinker, he nodded sympathetically.

    ¡°And how does Dancer propose to extricate us from this little¡­¡± He indicated Qui Shen with a look. ¡°¡­predicament?¡±

    To Tinker¡¯s credit, he at least had the good grace to look embarrassed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll drop the Artifact blocking space manipulation. Dancer has an A-ranking Traveler on standby ready to pull us out fast.¡±

    Sol nodded, keeping his face impassive as he looked behind him at the kneeling Market natives. Wide eyes, tear-streaked faces, and pitiful expressions stared back at him.

    ¡°And them?¡± he asked, his voice low.

    Tinker¡¯s face was deathly white.

    ¡°You know¡­¡±

    ¡°I want to hear you say it,¡± Sol said simply.

    Tinker sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking over Sol¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°We leave them to Qui Shen.¡±

    ¡°You son of a bitch,¡± Tania hissed. She strode toward Tinker¡¯s power armor, shoving futilely against the cold steel. ¡°You¡¯d leave them to die?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing for it, you silly girl,¡± Rupert growled. ¡°Either they die or we all die!¡±

    She whirled on the man, her face a thundercloud of fury.

    ¡°Well, now the coward speaks.¡±

    Sol saw the tensing in Rupert¡¯s muscles, could feel his intentions before he even moved. With a step, he gripped the man¡¯s arm. The Duelist was strong¡ªpossibly stronger than Sol, even. But he had enough strength in his hand to give the man pause long enough for the fury to clear and sense to return.

    When he was sure Rupert wouldn¡¯t do anything stupid, he cut his gaze back toward Tinker, evaluating him with a measured look.

    ¡°What are your thoughts on all of this?¡± he asked.

    Tinker sighed, glancing toward Lady and Bloodhound. ¡°Frankly, it doesn¡¯t sit right with me. There¡¯s nearly a thousand people we¡¯d be leaving to die.¡± He reached a steel hand toward his face as if to wipe at it, then stopped once he realized it wouldn¡¯t clear the opening. His hand dropped down, a resigned posture in his shoulders. ¡°But I think the Singularity is too important to give over to a maniac like that. We have to do the responsible thing.¡±

    Sol nodded, using the heavy silence to craft a System message to Terry and Tania.

    ¡°I agree. The Singularity is too important to hand over to a maniac.¡±

    He knew what needed to be done¡ªfelt it deep down in a place he had thought was long dead. There was nothing heroic about what was to come; lives would be lost¡ªperhaps all of them would die in the next few minutes.

    But at the very least, he could make sure the Singularity Terraform had entrusted to him wouldn¡¯t end up in the hands of a tyrant¡ªeither of them.

    ¡°Okay, Tinker. Tell Dancer we accept.¡± His tone was weary, resigned to a choice that was no choice at all. ¡°Let us know when you¡¯re ready to drop the spatial restriction.¡±

    <hr>

    Terry read Sol¡¯s System message over once more, a confusing blend of feelings mingling inside of him.

    On one hand, he felt a keen sense of righteousness at what they planned to do. Qui Shen and Dancer were cut from the same cloth in his mind and he didn¡¯t trust either of them to wield an additional Singularity. If one of them got their hands on this one, the balance of power would be forever skewed in their favor.

    On the other, he was scared shitless. It was one thing putting his life on the line against sanguine and draugrs. But this was a battle between S-rankers. He didn¡¯t have a place in that fight. All he could do was stay out of the way and wait for the flames to consume him.

    But this was what he had wanted growing up; he¡¯d wanted to be a hero. As a child, he had naively thought that meant thwarting the bad guys and posing for pictures at the follow up press conference.

    Now, he knew different. There was always collateral damage. Heroes rarely walked away unscathed. And sometimes, they had to make that final decision to sell their lives just to put a speed bump in the villain¡¯s path.

    He was that speed bump, he finally realized. It might have galled him in the past to know that he wasn¡¯t the hero.

    But now, as he stared across the cavern at a man armored in living flame, he felt content.

    The smallest of nods between him, Tania, and Sol was all they needed. A moment later, Tinker was giving them the signal.

    ¡°Dropping in five,¡± he said. His mask irised across his face, sealing him into his power armor.

    Sol pulled the Singularity from his chest and Qui Shen shivered in excitement over his shoulder.

    When the first pulse of power hit Terry, he reeled in shock. Time slowed, his thoughts speeding up as his body seemed stuck in amber.

    A flash of awareness seemed to emanate from the Singularity, something akin to an acknowledgment of his presence; an approving sensation washing over his mind.

    Then, it began to guide his aura, revealing a framework in Terry¡¯s mind that was familiar, yet¡­more.

    Almost unconsciously, he shifted gears. Instead of simply preparing to send it through a portal as far into the earth as he could, a new plan began to form.

    A single second passed and he crafted the portal framework with his aura.

    Another second, and he attached the framework to the ocean of power pulsing from the Singularity.

    A third and he matched the rhythm with his own aura, giving life to the power he was embedding inside it.

    Four seconds gone, and he tied off the aura, feeling the Singularity guiding his hand gently.

    When Tinker let his lock over space fall, a pulse of power burst from the Singularity, warping the air around them.

    A portal whooshed into existence¡ªDancer¡¯s Traveler was right on time.

    But as it cut across space and the others prepared to jump through it, the Singularity bent space, too. With a rush of air, it was gone, the slightest tug on Terry¡¯s aura the only indication of their link.

    He felt another pull, then another. Without realizing how, he knew the Singularity was portaling through the earth¡¯s crust, constantly moving, out of reach for Qui Shen or Dancer.

    Quest Complete: [Anchor a Skill]

 B2 - Chapter 20: Fire and Light

    Midmark Quest Given: [Summons]

    More details provided after summons. Do you accept Summons?

    Reward: C-rank

    That notification made his stomach flip, but there was no time to process that new Quest; he could only focus on the three S-rankers before him.

    ¡°What have you done?¡± Tinker¡¯s voice echoed through his mask, disbelieving, lost.

    Sol turned away, facing the rising flames threatening them all. Over his shoulder, he answered the Artificer.

    ¡°Did you really think I¡¯d abandon all these people?¡± His skin began to glow, the air seeming to warp around him. ¡°Did you really think I¡¯d give that much power to Dancer?¡±

    The fire around Qui Shen began to spit, tendrils snapping out, reaching toward them, the nearby refugees¡ªeveryone. Sol lifted a hand, and the burning heat began to pull toward him instead.

    ¡°Tinker, protect the innocents as best you can.¡± Sol glanced back, his voice tight with concentration. ¡°Or hop through that portal right now. The choice is yours.¡± And with that, he launched into the air, Qui Shen¡¯s flames rising to meet him.

    Terry studied the unreadable mask of Tinker¡¯s power armor, wondering what the man would choose.

    The two S-rankers clashed in the sky, light and fire ripping through the air, catching a group of people. Some went running or blocked the power with their own aura. Some were burned, but managed to escape, their screams echoing through the tunnel.

    Some fell down, their skin sloughing off, and never moved again.

    ¡°Tinker!¡± Terry shouted. The man¡¯s mask simply stared after Sol, watched the titantic fight begin to coalesce. He reached over, gripped Tinker¡¯s steel arm, pulling the man from his daze. ¡°Tinker! If you can shield the civilians, I might be able to hold open the portal! But I need your help keeping the fight away from them.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget there¡¯s a Hypnotist hiding somewhere,¡± Bloodhound added. ¡°S-rank, judging from the aura.¡±

    Tinker seemed to shake himself from his fugue, turning to face Terry.

    ¡°I can block most of the heat¡ªif he doesn¡¯t target me directly. But you know Dancer will just shut the portal the moment the first civilian pops through instead of us?¡±

    Terry focused on the piece of aura he¡¯d funneled into the still-open portal. Beyond, it felt like a wide open space. Hopefully large enough for nearly a thousand people.

    ¡°If I can¡¯t force it open, I¡¯ll make my own.¡±

    Tinker seemed to study him for a moment behind his steel mask, then nodded. Without another word, thrusters activated on his armor, launching him over the bulk of the group. A ripple of energy whined in the air, and a moment later, a dome of blue power spread out from Tinker¡¯s position.

    A lick of Qui Shen¡¯s flame danced along the blue dome, singing wherever it touched, but not breaking through.

    Terry cupped hands over his mouth and shouted toward the nearest group.

    ¡°Get to the portal!¡±

    It didn¡¯t take more than a second for the crowd to recognize their only avenue of escape. They began to run toward Terry, Tania, and the portal. A few Duelists zipped past everyone, launching through at speed, but most were low to average ranking Awakened.

    Tania started coordinating the fleeing group into a manageable file just as Terry felt the portal aura began to disintegrate, fraying at its edges.

    He reached through space, feeling the opposing Traveler releasing his hold on the portal. With a flex of power, he reinforced the aura framework and the portal flashed back to full strength.

    For a moment, as another dozen people rushed through to safety, he thought that might be the end of it¡ªperhaps Dancer wasn¡¯t the monster they all considered him to be.

    That was when the Traveler flexed his aura over Terry¡¯s hold.

    He almost lost his grip on space in that first moment, a wave of power crashing into the portal¡¯s structure in a destabilizing rush.

    His own aura buttressed the tear in space, wedging it open. Another rush of energy ripped at his hold, threatening his grip with frightening strength.

    All the while, people rushed through to the other side, though Tania had been able to force some semblance of order.

    Sweat dripped down into his eyes¡ªfrom the struggle with the opposing Traveler or Qui Shen¡¯s heat, he couldn¡¯t say. He blinked it away, his teeth clenched tight as Dancer¡¯s Traveler fought to wrench the portal from his control.

    A third wave of power gripped him, pushing and tugging back and forth like he was a chew toy in a Doberman¡¯s mouth. His grip began to falter, the pain of his aura being ripped away felt like a lash across his back.

    A hand gripped his shoulder and something¡ªno, someone¡ªjoined the struggle. Rushing power coursed into his limbs, his aura, his mind, soothing the ache that was gripping his body.

    He spared a glance to see Lady next to him, her eyes shut in concentration as she funneled raw power into his aura.

    A wave of irrational humor washed over him; he¡¯d dreamt of fighting side-by-side with Lady, once upon a time. In his youthful daydreams, they¡¯d thwarted evil with casual ease, and she¡¯d witnessed just how heroic and selfless he was. Her eyes had glistened when she looked toward him, her admiration and desire naked on her face.

    The juxtaposition of that daydream beside the sweaty, terrifying, and most likely thankless reality nearly made him laugh. He stifled the manic sensation threatening to rise and turned his full attention back to the Traveler fighting to trap them all miles under the earth with a walking fire storm.

    With Lady¡¯s boost, the fight became more even¡ªone of speed and skill rather than raw strength. He felt the Traveler¡¯s aura smash against his in sub-space, trying to encompass him like a closed fist and snuff him out.

    But the strength disparity wasn¡¯t a yawning chasm anymore¡ªhe could hold out for a few minutes, at least.

    Then, the Traveler¡¯s power spiked, nearly doubling in the span of a blink. Before he could even register what was happening, the portal snapped shut with the finality of a guillotine¡¯s blade.

    The refugees who had been about to enter cried out in sudden panic. All along the line, screams and confusion rippled among the people.

    Terry could only stare at the empty space where the portal had been. He¡¯d been so confident, so sure he could hold it open.

    ¡°Someone Amplified him.¡±

    He turned toward Lady, his eyes unfocused as he struggled to process the sudden change of events. It took him a moment to return to the present and he spotted the lost look in her face.

    ¡°We¡¯re dead,¡± she whispered, her eyes tracking up toward Sol and Qui Shen.

    He wanted to argue¡ªshe was the hero, not me!¡ªbut there was a sense of dread hanging in the air. Something indefinable, but laying heavy across them.

    His eyes widened in realization.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°The Hypnotist,¡± he muttered. ¡°They¡¯re attacking us even now, sapping our will to fight.¡± He turned toward Bloodhound who watched the fight between the S-rankers, his blades held uselessly in his hands. ¡°You can find them, right?¡±

    The man seemed to shake himself from a trance, his eyes ranging over Terry.

    ¡°Yes¡­¡± he replied hesitantly. ¡°But even if I do, that¡¯s an S-ranker.¡± He looked between Terry and Lady. ¡°What can we do against that?¡±

    Terry furled his nose. ¡°Here are your options: lay down and die¡­or fight.¡± He looked toward Lady, then the soldiers behind her, Tania at his side, and finally, the nearby group of refugees who were in a halfway panic. ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, but I¡¯m not ready to give up just yet.¡±

    Bloodhound and Lady exchanged a look, then Bloodhound shrugged.

    ¡°Alright, kid. I¡¯ll see if I can home in¡ª¡±

    A ripple of power washed over them¡ªnot the group of refugees, but just them. Terry felt it slice through their group, more scalpel than the blunt instrument it had been before.

    As he followed its direction with his senses, he realized its target too late.

    Rupert¡¯s eyes glassed for the briefest flash, then he moved.

    Terry¡¯s cry of warning died in his throat before it could even form. The blur that was Rupert practically teleported in front of Bloodhound, his hands dropping back to his side as if he had just finished swinging. Bloodhound¡¯s eyes bulged in shock and that was when Terry noticed his throat.

    It was caved in, a fist-sized divot where his Adam¡¯s apple should have been.

    He stirred his aura on instinct, activating his Master of Light Skill to blind the attacking Duelist. Bloodhound collapsed to the ground with a gurgle as Rupert began clawing at his eyes like a feral animal.

    Lady screamed in horror as her gaze tracked toward Bloodhound¡¯s spasming body, his legs kicking the stone futilely.

    Rupert turned his blind eyes toward her screams, prepared to move with deadly intent.

    Stone hands reached up and gripped his ankles. He growled in anger as he reached to pry himself free.

    Terry followed the aura back to a thin man who had arrived with Tinker. His aura felt weak to Terry¡¯s senses¡ªa D-ranker if he had to guess.

    Their Stone Elementalist, he realized.

    A moment later, while he was still connecting the dots, a booming sound cut across the cacophony around them. Qui Shen and Sol¡¯s fiery fight above, Lady¡¯s screams, even the panicked shouts of nearly a thousand refugees, were overridden by that echoing boom.

    Rupert went limp, his body drooping oddly, bent in half over where the stone still gripped his legs.

    Terry spotted the blood seeping from a bullet hole in his forehead a moment later.

    From where he lay prone on the ground¡ªstill clutching his throat with wild gasps¡ªthe pistol fell from Bloodhound¡¯s hand.

    ¡°We can still save him,¡± Tania hissed at his side. She nodded toward the larger group where hundreds of Awakened stirred restlessly. ¡°There¡¯s gotta be a healer among them.¡±

    Terry nodded. ¡°Good point. You work on that. I need to try and punch through this fucker¡¯s spatial lock¡ª¡±

    He cut off as he felt space begin to respond to someone¡¯s pull. His breath caught as he considered if Dancer had decided to come aid them after all. Maybe the Council or Terry¡¯s father had pushed the issue, forcing his hand.

    Then, another thought hit him like a gut punch.

    What if Dancer¡¯s just coming to mop up the survivor of Sol and Qui Shen¡¯s fight? What if he just wants the Singularity?

    His thoughts were interrupted as a portal cut through space with a definitive finesse¡ªparting it, rather than peeling it back.

    A familiar finesse.

    ¡°What is it, Terry?¡± Tania asked at his side. She must have noticed his smile.

    He merely watched the portal, not even extending his senses to get a feel for its framework. Tania opened her mouth to press the issue, when a figure stepped through, his silhouette backlit by the blue of the portal, obscuring his features.

    He didn¡¯t need to see the man¡¯s glowing eyes or feel his imposing presence to recognize their newest arrival.

    Terraform had joined the fight.

    <hr>

    Sol¡¯s skin burned, his aura twisted. This wasn¡¯t a fight he could win; never had been. He was out of his depth and he had known it the moment he¡¯d chosen to defy Dancer and face Qui Shen head to head.

    But the stark reality of the disparity in their power still managed to shock him to his core.

    Their elements were similar in many ways. Light and Fire were siblings on the elemental spectrum and Sol wouldn¡¯t say one was superior to the other in the general sense. Fire was more devastating, while Light possessed more utility.

    Utility, though, could only carry him so far when faced against the raw destruction that was Qui Shen. Flames spewed toward him, as hot as the surface of the sun, burning with a power that should have sucked the air out of the cavern in an instant.

    But the Elemental Singularity was Qui Shen¡¯s trump card. With it, the impossible became possible. His fire burned hotter, his attacks came faster, his defensive shell became impenetrable.

    Worse than that, Sol¡¯s own element turned traitorous, flexing against him, bucking against his control with pulses of the Singularity in Qui Shen¡¯s possession.

    He fired a concentrated laser¡ªhot enough to penetrate Qui Shen¡¯s armor¡ªonly for it to diffract uselessly. He pulled on the infrared light generated by his flames, only for it to revolt under his grip and suffuse the cavern. He tried to fly in close to fight hand to hand, but his powers revolted, sending him careening into a wall.

    There was nothing else he could try; he was losing this fight and handily. As he moved to clear some distance to reassess his options, a blast of pure fire hit him. He tried to absorb its heat, but he felt the Singularity pulse, robbing his aura of its intent.

    Blistering flames struck him, scorching his flesh, melting a palm-sized hole in his chest down to the ribs. The pain blanked his mind and he realized distantly that he was crashing to the stone below.

    There was no time to brace for impact. His mind was bathed in searing pain, too much for any human to bear.

    But when he struck the stony floor, there was no bone-crunching collision, no crack of skull or slap of flesh. Instead, the stone seemed to embrace him, receive him like a catcher¡¯s mitt.

    There was no time to wonder about that peculiarity; Qui Shen was coming.

    Get up, Sol! Get up! These people need you!

    Boots stepped into view and he felt despair. It was too late, Qui Shen was on him.

    Then, his mind righted itself and realization struck him: those boots weren¡¯t wreathed in flame. Instead, there was a steadiness to the presence standing over him, an anchoring strength that resonated deep inside his aura.

    He looked up, his eyes tracking up to meet Terraform¡¯s piercing gaze.

    ¡°Get up, Sol. Job¡¯s not done.¡±

    <hr>

    Lance Gunnar, also known as Silver, had his attention zeroed in on that damned Artifact restricting space.

    He hated when Artifacts impeded his Travel. Though he had an affinity with the Physical Singularity and was able to utilize it to teleport, he had never had a fundamental grasp on manipulating space.

    His methods tended closer to the brute force path and he acknowledged that about himself. Oftentimes, brute force was enough, anyway.

    But this Artifact in particular was powerful¡ªfar more powerful than the one in Terrence¡¯s palace back in Wichita. And the distance didn¡¯t help.

    After a few minutes, he growled in annoyance.

    ¡°It¡¯s damned strong. Gotta be an S-rank Artifact¡ªwith a meaty power source, too.¡±

    His daughter simply placed a hand on his shoulder, but he felt his irritation drain away like the plug had been yanked.

    For a moment, he felt embarrassed¡ªshe had to modulate his mood more often than he liked. He wanted to blame it on the infection he¡¯d been fighting from the Spectral Singularity back on the far side of the moon¡ªthat struggle had done a number on his psyche, he was realizing. But he also had to admit that he was still dealing with the trauma of four decades trapped on his Capstone Quest. Four decades living with the knowledge that he had failed his son, abandoned his daughter, and there had been nothing he could do about it.

    But now¡­now he had a chance to make things right, at least with Penelope. He¡¯d started that work with her son, mentoring Terry in what little ways he could. And her return had only fueled him with renewed purpose.

    Finding an equal¡ªno, he wasn¡¯t her equal¡ªhad infused him with so much pride that he had fought down more than a few tears.

    And that¡¯s what ate at him now. She had developed into such a competent and powerful Awakened¡ªall without his guiding presence. She hadn¡¯t needed him and for some reason, that stung more than all the rest.

    Perhaps that was why he felt so irrationally irritated now; he was good for at least one thing, and that was portaling them where they were needed.

    If he couldn¡¯t even do that¡­what good was he?

    ¡°Dad¡­¡± she whispered. ¡°I can hear your thoughts.¡±

    A flush of embarrassment passed over him.

    ¡°Well¡­it¡¯s true,¡± he replied.

    He knew they¡¯d had this conversation a dozen times; knew it must be tedious for her to constantly reassure him. But he couldn¡¯t seem to work past the self doubt and recrimination.

    Her grip on his shoulder tightened and for once, he didn¡¯t let her pull away his troubling thoughts.

    ¡°No, I¡­I need to feel this.¡±

    She hesitated, her hand lingering for a moment before she pulled it back.

    ¡°Okay, Dad. But I¡¯ve been processing, too.¡± He turned to look at her through the inky darkness. ¡°And I¡¯ve forgiven you.¡±

    He opened his mouth to protest¡ªI haven¡¯t forgiven myself, he tried to say¡ªbut she cut him off.

    ¡°Let me finish.¡± He felt her turn away and pace through the small cave. ¡°I resented you all of my life¡ªyou know that.¡±

    He nodded, but couldn¡¯t fit any words past his tight throat.

    ¡°But I did the exact same thing, Dad. Don¡¯t you get it?¡± The air stirred as she whirled back toward him. ¡°I abandoned Terry¡ªleft him alone to navigate his childhood, his Awakening, without me!¡±

    They¡¯d already had this conversation and he found himself confused.

    ¡°Pen¡­¡±

    ¡°Wait¡ª¡± Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. ¡°But you were there for him, don¡¯t you see? He didn¡¯t have me, but he had you!¡±

    He scoffed lightly. ¡°Not sure that¡¯s the boon you think it is.¡±

    She chuckled, stepping closer so that their auras touched.

    ¡°I-It means more to me than you could ever know.¡±

    He reached out, his hands questing in the dark to embrace her, when he realized that something was different¡ªnot a sensation, per se, but more like the absence of one. Like the background static of a TV had suddenly turned off and he hadn¡¯t noticed it right away.

    With a burst of energy, he reached across space, trailing his senses over where the Artifact had been active just a minute ago.

    ¡°Pen! It¡¯s down!¡±

    She pulled away in obvious confusion.

    ¡°What?¡±

    He didn¡¯t bother explaining, instead reaching through space¡ªno, smashing through it. It parted before his strength with a pained cry, yielding to his power with a whimper.

    A portal cut across the dark cave, blinding blue light searing their eyes.

    Penelope didn¡¯t even wait for an explanation; she raced through the portal in a burst of speed.

    And Silver was right behind her.

 B2- Chapter 21: Twelve Angry S-Rankers

    For a moment¡ªan irrational flash of disbelief¡ªTerry didn¡¯t quite comprehend what he was seeing.

    Terraform stepped through the new portal, his aura spreading wide to embrace his element, like a king entering his throne room.

    But that wasn¡¯t what had struck Terry¡¯s mind blank.

    Behind him strode Hunter, Marco, Juliette, and Louisa. Inexplicably, there had been no casualties.

    Then, a voice called out, somehow echoing past their shoulders and over the cacophony of the battle around them.

    ¡°Get the hell out of the way. Don¡¯t you have a fight to join!¡±

    Juliette scuttled from the portal¡¯s entrance, revealing a stone berth sliding across the ground.

    On it, was Marlon, his legs twisted unnaturally, his scowl familiar.

    Terraform and the other four high-ranking Awakened rushed to join the fight against Qui Shen while Marlon approached Terry and Tania on his sliding stone.

    ¡°Marlon!¡± Terry rushed to meet the surly man. ¡°How?¡±

    He waved away the question, looking about expectantly.

    ¡°Why¡¯re these people still here? They¡¯re just gettin¡¯ in the way.¡±

    ¡°Dancer¡¯s Traveler has us embargoed. I tried keeping the portal open¡­¡±

    Marlon¡¯s scowl deepened, his aura flexing up and away. A moment later, Terry felt Dancer¡¯s Traveler match up against Marlon¡¯s probing touch.

    The contest lasted all of two seconds. To Terry¡¯s senses, it was like a fencer¡¯s duel. The unknown Traveler thrust¡ªoverconfident, victory expectant. Marlon parried, countered, and just like that, space answered his call.

    When the portal slid across space, Marlon grunted and raised a brow at Terry.

    ¡°What?¡± Terry asked. The eyebrow only rose higher. ¡°He¡¯s an A-ranker!¡± He tried¡ªand failed¡ªto keep the whine out of his tone.

    ¡°He¡¯s a rank amateur.¡± Terry felt Marlon¡¯s aura slice out, rip through the Traveler¡¯s frantic attacks and cut another portal through space. A second eyebrow raised in Terry¡¯s direction. ¡°And you¡¯re my student.¡±

    Terry double-taked between Tania, Lady, and Marlon.

    ¡°He had an Amplifier!¡±

    ¡°So did you!¡± Marlon countered.

    Terry almost continued arguing, but realized Marlon wasn¡¯t wrong. The man had accomplished what he couldn¡¯t¡ªfaster and with much less effort.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he relented, his tone only slightly sarcastic, ¡°this one apologizes for bringing shame to you, master.¡±

    Marlon growled. ¡°Save the sass, boy. Fight¡¯s not¡ª¡±

    A ripple of aura slammed into them¡ªand not just them.

    Screams echoed out from the crowd that had been rushing through the two open portals. A second wave washed over them, infecting their auras and their minds. Raw terror, anger, a need for violence, all bundled into a heady cocktail that made Terry¡¯s head swim. An unknown amount of time passed before he was able to push the infecting mood away. But when he did, he looked around to see the refugees turning on each other, racing around the cavern, or even leaving the safety of Tinker¡¯s dome straight into a fiery death.

    He turned to see Tania clutching her head, while Marlon¡¯s eyes were just coming back into focus. His aura washed out, shoving away the Hypnotist¡¯s influence and forcing some semblance of control back into their eyes.

    ¡°We have to counter the enemy Hypnotist¡ª¡±

    A hand touched his shoulder and a tingle electrified his skin, sending his mind darting through the weeds of his past.

    I know that feeling¡­

    He wanted to whirl around, cut his eyes toward that hand¡¯s owner. But he felt mired in place, like he was in a dream and couldn¡¯t awaken.

    Slow¡ªso painfully slow¡ªhe turned and met the gaze of the woman behind him.

    ¡°¡­Mom?¡±

    <hr>

    Their secret journey through the stone had been perhaps the most harrowing of H¨¦ng Sh¨ª¡¯s fraught-filled life.

    His Majesty, the Eternal Flame, had never seemed so human in all the decades H¨¦ng Sh¨ª had served the Burning Court.

    Of course, he¡¯d never seen the Eternal Flame without his flame armor, but that was the point entirely.

    With them, came His Majesty¡¯s God-Tier Hypnotist, who had not deigned to impart her name. But in his mind, he had unavoidably dubbed her D¨² Sh¨¦, Venomous Snake, for the way she caressed his mind such that he didn¡¯t notice her touch until it was gone, leaving venom in her wake.

    Three Demigod-Tier Duelists joined them, along with a single Amplifier of the same rank¡ªall he had believed he could reliably sneak into striking range of the large underground procession.

    The presence of the two Gods at his side on any other day would have had his limbs quaking. But the circumstances¡ªand more accurately, the consequences¡ªof his role had been enough to send bile burning up his throat.

    And just when those ulcers had been on the cusp of fading¡­

    But somehow, against all odds, he had ferried His Majesty and the others to within striking distance without any alarm or flicker of aura to signal they¡¯d been sensed.

    Only as they¡¯d gotten closer had H¨¦ng Sh¨ª understood that the enemy¡¯s Stone Elementalists¡ªhis brothers, in any other scenario¡ªwere of low rank.

    Naively, he¡¯d allowed himself to hope¡ªhope that he would survive. Or if not survive, at least not bring punishment upon his family.

    The Snake¡¯s aura dulled the senses of the milling low ranks above them, allowing His Majesty to arrive undetected. Later, he¡¯d felt Her induce panic, terror, and violence.

    At some point, a vast, incomprehensible¡­terrible aura had unfurled above them.

    A God has awakened¡­and His wrath knows no bounds.

    An aura flared to meet it, smaller, weaker¡­less. But a flicker of a suicidal thought had arisen in his heart.

    H¨¦ng Sh¨ª hoped against all reason that this lesser flame would rise to the challenge of snuffing out that which was said to be Eternal.

    His mind stayed blank¡ªso carefully blank¡ªbut his heart burned with naked desire.

    It was only when he felt another God join the fight that he even acknowledged his heart¡¯s desire. And when he felt another comparable aura unleash itself, his thoughts rebelled against his tight control, lashing about within his mind, open for the Snake to read.

    Only her desperate battle with the unknown God saved him from being outed.

    With a delicate, glacially slow movement, he slid his eyes toward the Snake, and he watched.

    Her eyes burned, Her face contorted hideously with desperate concentration. Her very limbs shook with the latent rage and the blatant effort.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    But more importantly than any of that, was the fluctuation of Her aura as this unknown force opposed a Goddess¡­and was winning.

    The realization scalded him. They were losing. There was a chance these western Gods quenched the Eternal¡ª

    He cut off his thoughts with an iron, desperation-fueled, will.

    In the midst of his internal struggle, he realized that the Snake had said something to him. He hurriedly doubled at the waist, averting his eyes and aura.

    ¡°A thousand pardons, Your¡ª¡±

    ¡°Quiet!¡± she barked. ¡°Take us back to the army.¡± Her aura was under attack, undirected and weakened, but the burning look in Her eyes might as well have been the mental attack of a God-Tier Hypnotist. ¡°Now!¡±

    For a deadly moment, his mind blanked, his words somehow moving faster than thought.

    ¡°What?¡±

    Her expression faltered for the briefest flicker of a moment, then her eyes narrowed into a hawk¡¯s gaze.

    He had never bowed so low in his life.

    ¡°Pardon, Goddess!¡± Death¡¯s touch lingered over him¡ªhe felt it¡ªand then, it dissipated. ¡°As soon as the Burning One¡ª¡±

    Her next words flashed hotter than any fire he¡¯d ever felt.

    ¡°Now.¡±

    ¡°But¡­His Excellency¡ª¡±

    That touch returned, like a dagger¡¯s edge pressed to his throat.

    ¡°You question me¡­?¡±

    Her voice was suddenly low, full of venom, clutching at his heart.

    But before he could respond, he felt an aura pulse all around them, searching¡­hunting.

    The Snake¡¯s towering pressure dissipated, withdrawing, concealing them in a tight bubble that he understood was hiding them from this other force.

    She was losing¡ªcowering¡ªand was abandoning the fight.

    Abandoning the Eternal Flame.

    There was no plan; no conscious thought, no physical or mental trigger for Her to glean. His mind simply pocketed his intention and his aura acted.

    Stone rippled away from them, responding to his aura¡¯s touch. Above them, it slid away, retracting like a motorized skylight. Sounds struck the group, a cacophony of screams, burning flames, and grinding stone.

    At the exact same moment, the aura struck them as well.

    He felt the Goddess¡¯ shock, Her understanding. She reached for him with Her aura, injecting a slideshow of horror that shook him ragged.

    Your family will suffer like nothing you could even imagine. They shall burn, but never be allowed to die. Their skin shall be flensed, then regrafted. Terror, pain, a terrible, bone-deep longing for death¡ª

    A voice echoed down into their stone alcove, cutting through the Snake¡¯s words and aura. A trace of humor touched that voice, like its owner were inwardly chuckling at some inside joke.

    ¡°Come out, come out wherever you are!¡±

    H¨¦ng Sh¨ª looked up to see a woman standing above them on the edge of the opening he¡¯d crafted, her eyes tinkling with silver magic as they locked onto the Snake. She struck a cutting figure, her face nearly as striking as her eyes; stunning¡ªin a western sort of way.

    She smiled down at them, then must have noticed something on their faces, because she let out a light, tinkling laugh.

    Her words came out in a slow, high, sing-song voice.

    ¡°Found¡­you.¡±

    <hr>

    Light, Fire, Stone, Artifact weaponry, and physical flesh, collided in a display that lit up the cavern and echoed like a series of building demolitions.

    But Terry didn¡¯t see or hear the clash of the S-rankers¡ªcouldn¡¯t. All he could do, every ounce of power, fleck of hard-earned skill, and modicum of talent, was devoted to opening¡ªor keeping open¡ªthe portals evacuating the refugees.

    Despite Marlon¡¯s earlier bravado, it was a constant battle to maintain their foothold on the surface for one simple reason.

    Hopper¡ªthe S-ranked Traveler from Team Dallas¡ªhad joined the fight.

    Marlon had been right; the Traveler they had faced earlier¡ªthough an A-ranker¡ªhad been unskilled. Trial and error had shown Terry the way to beat the man and he was now facing off against said Traveler with relative success.

    Hopper, on the other hand, was not an amateur. In fact, she seemed to have the advantage against Marlon and was slowly edging ground away from the man despite his mastery.

    And still, they had held out almost long enough. Nearly three-quarters of the refugees were through one of the portals and it was looking like they would all make it through to safety.

    Or, if not safety, surely not certain fiery death.

    That was when he felt it.

    A moment of stillness passed over the entire cavern, the aura straining to shift and finding no purchase to move. The screams and panic silenced, almost in deference to the powerful pulse that echoed around them.

    Terry cut his attention away from space, instinctively knowing where to look.

    Across the cavern, well outside Tinker¡¯s shield, two men appeared to embrace.

    It was only after he magnified his vision with Master of Light did he understand what he was seeing.

    Silver clutched Qui Shen¡¯s burning form with one hand, his skin metallic¡ªthough blackened and scorched.

    And his other hand¡­was elbow deep in Qui Shen¡¯s chest, shoving in and through to the far side.

    The flames prismed, flashing through colors¡ªwhite, blue, red, yellow, and finally, extinguishing.

    In the flame¡¯s place, an old, frail man gasped in surprise, his eyes not quite finding the face of his killer.

    Silver shoved Qui Shen away with a growl, his metal hand clutching a blackened, bleeding ball of meat that might have once been a heart.

    But none of that was what had caused the stillness, the silence.

    Flashing across every man and woman¡¯s senses, were the pulses of the Elemental Singularity slowly rising from Qui Shen¡¯s burning husk.

    It seemed to hang there, warping time and space around it in a way that reminded Terry of the Metaphysical Singularity right before he¡¯d sent it flying through the earth¡¯s crust.

    It was calling out. To everyone or¡­someone.

    The pull of space snapped him from his reverie, and before he could react¡ªeven before Marlon could react¡ªDancer was stepping through a portal across the cavern, right beside Tinker, Silver, Terraform, and the corpse of Qui Shen.

    A heartbeat later, another person stepped through space. Then, another. And another. Until six S-rankers¡ªincluding Dancer¡ªarrived within the span of a moment.

    And Terry recognized each and every one of them¡ªby reputation, if not personal interaction.

    Hopper of Team Dallas came first, followed by the other two S-rankers of her team, Purge and Lift. The ambient aura fuzzed as Purge arrived, the S-ranked Disruptor affecting everyone around him. Lift was the Air Elementalist, capable of using her element to remove atmosphere, suffocate her foes, or alter air pressure to crush and maim.

    Behind them came the two remaining S-rankers of the Council. Reach was first to arrive, his chin held high, proud and confident. His System-awarded polearm was clutched loosely in his hands. But even at a distance, Terry could sense that the man was coiled like a spring, the tension ready to unleash without warning. Then his eyes flicked over toward Silver, widening for a moment before he subconsciously took a step closer to Dancer.

    Static was the last of the Council to arrive and the hairs on the back of Terry¡¯s neck and all along his arms stood upright. The air felt alive with electricity, like the moment before lightning struck. He knew from HeroWatch that the S-ranked Catalyst could literally charge the air and form bolts of lightning, though rumors were that his control was somewhat lacking the finesse of an Elementalist.

    Then, the last S-ranker stepped through the portal, and Terry felt a surprising warmth in his chest.

    His eyes met his grandfather¡¯s, a flash of understanding perhaps, passing between them before the Emperor turned his attention to the largest gathering of S-rankers since the Splintering.

    For a moment, no one said anything. The air stilled as if in deference to the gravity of the gathering. The exposed Elemental Singularity pulsed quietly, subdued. Terry had the sense that even it was waiting to see what would come next.

    Dancer took one step forward and the aura in the large cavern surged in response.

    ¡°We¡¯ve come to secure this Singularity,¡± he proclaimed. An aura of command buttressed his voice, singing deep into Terry¡¯s unconscious that this was a man to be obeyed.

    Silver¡¯s blackened metal skin retracted, revealing the familiar face, the silver bun, and the tight grimace on his lips. Behind him, Sol and Terraform moved toward his flanks in obvious solidarity.

    The threat in that simple move was as clear as a punch to the gut and the spectrum of expressions on the newly-arrived S-rankers flickered through fear, annoyance, and in some cases, anticipation.

    ¡°And by what right do you claim this Singularity?¡± Silver asked. ¡°You lot ain¡¯t done nothing but show up after the fight¡¯s over and done with.¡± His eyes flashed with silver magic. ¡°Like cowards.¡±

    Dancer didn¡¯t move an inch¡ªdidn¡¯t even blink¡ªas he regarded Silver. Some of the other S-rankers bristled at the man¡¯s proclamation, but they all looked to Dancer for guidance.

    After a five-count that stretched into eternity, Dancer spoke.

    ¡°By right of might, Gunny. There¡¯s only three of you and eight of us¡ª¡±

    A voice cut across Dancer, airy and bright¡ªalmost laughing.

    ¡°Four, actually.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mother approached Silver from behind, an unconscious woman held in a child¡¯s carry. She dumped the woman unceremoniously, her eyes never leaving Dancer¡¯s.

    A flutter that he couldn¡¯t identify filled his chest.

    Mom was alive. She was here!

    The emotions he¡¯d felt when she¡¯d first arrived had been confusing. Excitement, suddenly tempered by anger¡­then, a terrible longing to embrace her, throw his body into her arms and just let his worries and responsibilities drain away.

    The immediacy of the fight had cut across all that, forcing her away with barely a word and a light touch.

    And now¡­it seemed like the impending fight might dash any hope of a reunion.

    The wave of anger that washed over Dancer¡¯s aura could be felt even from across the cavern. He reached up to rub at his face, the picture of an adult forced to deal with the rebellious defiance of children.

    ¡°Penelope, there¡¯s no reason for us to fight. You and your father can¡¯t possibly hope to win. You¡¯re outnumbered two to one, weakened from your fight with Qui Shen, and¡ª¡± His eyes trailed away, locking onto Terry¡¯s. ¡°¡ªyour son stands firmly in the collateral.¡± His tone was sad, resigned, but also brittle, like a man putting on an act that he barely cared to maintain.

    His mother¡¯s gaze turned toward him then, her expression flickering, her resolve draining.

    Then, a voice cut across the tension, powerful and familiar.

    ¡°Actually, not entirely accurate.¡±

    His grandfather¡ªhis other grandfather¡ªstepped past Dancer, the air warping as his scythe and bone mask were summoned into existence.

    ¡°Terrence¡­¡± Dancer hissed. ¡°I give you a second chance and this is how¡ª¡±

    ¡°Fuck you, Disco,¡± the Emperor growled. ¡°I grovel before no man.¡±

    Aura surged, terrible, towering, dwarfing Terry, the lower ranks still stupidly gawking at the stand off, everyone.

    A quiet, nearly missed sound, interrupted the growing wave of aura.

    Tinker had cleared his throat, taken a single step from where he had been watching, and pivoted smoothly to face Dancer, Team Dallas, and his fellow Council members.

    ¡°I will not be a party to a second Tempest situation. If I must form the deadlock, then I will.¡± His mask irised back into place, his voice deep and modulated. ¡°It¡¯s now six versus six. Tell us all, Dancer, shall we shatter earth, air, and the very fabric of this world for the entertainment of those eldritch beings pulling our strings? Will you march to their beat so blindly¡ª¡±

    Dancer¡¯s aura crashed down, drowning Tinker in a wave that ripped the man¡¯s very essence to shreds.

 B2 - Chapter 22: The Topekan Accords

    What happened next, Terry could only piece together after the fact; the chaos of a battle between a dozen S-rankers and just as many A-rankers was not something a D-ranker could account for blow by blow.

    But what he did see made his stomach clench.

    A strangled millisecond held everyone in silence¡­and then all hell broke loose.

    Reach¡ªunperturbed by the sneak attack on his own teammate¡ªarced his polearm toward Sol¡¯s neck in a blistering attack.

    Silver moved faster.

    His hands clutched easily at the opposing Duelist¡¯s weapon, his expression calm even as Reach grimaced, his arms trembling with tension.

    Terry felt Hopper move next, her touch brushing across space, racing to open portals¡ªnot to send her enemies off the battlefield, but across their midsections, aiming to bisect them like a bad magician act.

    Marlon and Terry reacted at the same moment, reaching across the distance to quench her portals before they could slice through flesh. He felt his efforts batted aside by the S-ranker, but he hopped right back into the fight with a dogged determination.

    At the same moment Reach had struck, Necroton¡¯s scythe screamed through the air toward Dancer¡¯s neck in an eerie parallel of the fight between Reach and Silver. A bolt of pure lightning intercepted the blade, sending it off course.

    Static¡¯s aura began to charge for a second volley when the very stone reared up and enveloped his hands and feet, grounding him¡ªboth literally and metaphysically.

    Sol and Lift went for the unclaimed Elemental Singularity at the same time, both taking flight to approach Qui Shen¡¯s corpse. The air around Sol visibly wavered, dropping him from the sky just as a laser shot from his outstretched hand, searing Lift¡¯s chest. The two of them rolled to the stone floor mere feet from each other. Sol was still injured from his fight with Qui Shen, slow to recover from his crash, while Lift clutched at her chest and gasped ragged breaths.

    Purge flexed his Disruptor powers to cut Terraform off from his connection with the stone, but Terry¡¯s mother intercepted with her own aura, dissipating the attack with a simple tug, like pulling the thread from a frayed sweater to unravel the whole thing.

    There was no time to marvel at his mother¡¯s skill¡ªby his estimation, that all had accounted for the very first second of the fight. From there, he only managed to catch glimpses of the brawl as he turned his attention to aiding Marlon against Hopper and her A-ranked helper.

    Light flared, bodies moved fast enough to break the sound barrier, aura tsunamied throughout the cavern, blades crashed against blades, and the very earth trembled beneath their feet.

    Despite all that¡ªsomehow¡ªTerry survived the opening salvo. Thankfully for the other lower ranked Awakened, they¡¯d managed to flee through the portals before the violence had crescendoed.

    Which made Terry wonder, what the hell am I doing here¡­?

    But the truth of the matter was, he¡¯d never even considered leaving. Fleeing the fight, leaving both his grandfathers and his mother to clean up the mess¡­it just wasn¡¯t in his make up.

    He¡¯d never been in a fair fight¡ªnot in all his life. The draugr, a thousand sanguine, Savage¡ªthe odds hadn¡¯t been in his favor, not once.

    And yet, running away had never been an option in his mind. His family were fighters; it was in their genetics.

    So he continued pushing beside Marlon, throwing whatever strength and skill he possessed against the experience and power of Hopper. The two of them were losing, their weaker auras slowly chipped away at by the superior S-ranker. But he consoled himself with the knowledge that she wasn¡¯t portaling people in half in the meantime.

    A moment happened, the fight shifting perceptibly. It was a moment Terry couldn¡¯t follow blow-by-blow; it had all happened too fast for his eyes to follow. And yet, the instant it occurred, he somehow understood that the fight was over.

    Silver must have ripped Reach¡¯s polearm from his hands through brute strength. The Council Duelist went flying across the cavern to smash against the stone¡ªwhich welcomed him like a tomb, sucking him in whole.

    The polearm seemed to recognize Silver as the Duelist Prime and didn¡¯t buck against its new, temporary owner. When Silver hefted it high, then launched it like a javelin, the sound of its passage ripped across Terry¡¯s eardrums.

    Its target was sent flying from the impact, ragdolling backward like he¡¯d been struck by a semi-truck.

    When Dancer finally stopped rolling, a weighty pause settled upon the fight, an unspoken armistice taking root.

    Terry held his breath, five long, glacial seconds passing before someone spoke.

    ¡°R-retreat!¡± Hopper cried out. Her clothes were singed, her hair frayed, and her aura pulled in a dozen directions. But as she flexed her aura to open a portal, Terry and Marlon found her strength overwhelming.

    They tried to shut her down anyway, but Silver waved a hand toward them and the others.

    ¡°Let them go.¡± His metallic skin glistened in the light of Sol¡¯s magic, casting him as more golem than man. But the strength of his aura was undimmed, shining brighter than anything in the cavern. ¡°Let them all go¡­except him.¡±

    Every eye turned to follow Silver¡¯s stabbing finger, dozens of heads swiveling to stare at Dancer as he strained against the polearm wedged in his chest.

    Hopper blanched at the proclamation, meeting Dancer¡¯s gaze for the briefest second before flinching away.

    ¡°Hop¡­per¡­¡± Dancer¡¯s voice was wet, his lungs drowning in blood. A wracking cough shook him, crimson fluid spat onto the floor. ¡°You¡­wou¡ª¡± Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a second bout of coughs.

    Hopper kept her eyes averted, looking toward Silver, Necroton, and finally, Terry¡¯s mother.

    ¡°We-we were just doing what we were told¡ª¡±

    Silver moved so fast, Terry only knew it wasn¡¯t teleportation because he didn¡¯t pull on space. Hopper, on the other hand, clawed at space like a drowning victim. A flash from the Physical Singularity ripped apart her efforts with a brutal savagery, just as Silver¡¯s hand gripped her throat.

    His metal skin liquefied, sloughing away from his face like molten steel, revealing a face that made Hopper physically cry out in terror.

    Even from a distance, Terry could see his grandfather¡¯s snarl, his eyes pure silver, the killing intent splashing across his aura like blood in the water.

    His voice was low, gravelly, yet audible throughout the cavern as if by some magic.

    ¡°The greatest atrocities of this world were committed by those ¡®just doing what they were told.¡¯¡±

    For a moment, Terry felt¡ªno, he knew¡ªthat Silver was going to decapitate Hopper with a flex of his hand. Then, the moment passed, his aura shifted, and he slowly unwound his grip from her throat.

    Softly, he said, ¡°Be better, Hopper.¡± He turned to look at each of the S-rankers in attendance, his eyes passing over Static, Lift, Purge, and Reach, who had been released from the stone by Terraform. ¡°All of you, be better.¡±

    His mother stepped forward, her aura just as bright beside her father.

    ¡°And if you can¡¯t¡ª¡± Her finger lifted toward Dancer. ¡°¡ªwitness your fate.¡±

    Her words settled upon them like the proclamation of a goddess, sending a shiver up Hopper¡¯s back, while Lift and Purge shared a look that said, ¡®what the hell did we get ourselves into?¡¯

    ¡°Now go.¡± Silver released his grip on Hopper¡¯s aura and she didn¡¯t need to be told twice.

    Two portals ripped into existence with a desperate energy¡ªone leading back to Dallas, the other to Kansas City. The combatants fled through their respective portals, including Lady and the still breathing Bloodhound, who was carried through by his fireteam.

    The remaining friendly forces gathered together as one.

    There was Silver, Necroton, Sol, Terraform and his party, Marlon, Terry, his mother, and¡ª

    ¡°Really rousing speech, Silver!¡± a voice echoed out from somewhere. ¡°Inspiring!¡± Terry looked down to see the voice coming from inside Tinker¡¯s lifeless power armor. ¡°Now¡­can someone get me the fuck out of this tin can!¡±

    For a moment, no one moved, stunned expressions on every face. Terry laughed at that, and his mother glanced over, a light smile forming.

    As Silver reached down and began to liquefy Tinker¡¯s power armor away, his mother walked over, biting her lip anxiously.

    ¡°Terry, I¡­there¡¯s so much to say¡­¡±

    He considered watching her flounder, letting her feel uncomfortable as some small punishment for the breach of trust that had encompassed most of his life. But he hadn¡¯t realized until just this moment¡­he¡¯d forgiven her.

    She opened her mouth to say more, but she didn¡¯t get a chance as his body collided with hers, his arms wrapping around her as tight as he could squeeze. A distant part of his mind marveled that he was now taller than her, her head pressed firmly against his chest.

    ¡°Ter¡ª¡± Her voice caught and she tried to power through, but he shushed her, stroking her hair. The sobs took her then, and she squeezed tighter, clenching onto him as if to let go would mean death.

    He remembered back to when the Knights of Sol had ambushed them, how her grip on his hand had ground the little bones together. Now, her squeeze didn¡¯t faze him, and he just let himself enjoy the contact, resting his face against the top of her head. He wasn¡¯t going to cry¡ªdidn¡¯t feel it coming, didn¡¯t need it. Then, the smell of her hair invaded his nostrils, bringing back so many memories in a rush that his defenses were overwhelmed, batted aside like nothing.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Tears spilled from his eyes onto her hair and something clicked inside his chest, some weight retracting from his heart; a weight he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been feeling until this very second. As his tears began to fall harder, the sobs took him too and he just squeezed his mother as tight as he could, hoping this moment would carry on forever.

    He didn¡¯t know how long they embraced like that before Silver cleared his throat. Terry¡¯s head shot up in annoyance and that was when it hit him.

    The unclaimed Elemental Singularity pulsed with a terrible wail on his soul, drowning him in its need to be heard.

    Whether his mother had been saving him from the sensation or the raw need of their embrace had trumped the reality-bending power he now felt, he couldn¡¯t be sure. But now that he did feel it, it was like a burr digging behind his eyes.

    Slowly, his mother extricated herself from his arms, her pained expression mirroring his own childish want to pull her back in again. But in a flash, her face shifted, flowing into a steady, business-like expression.

    Across the way, Dancer clutched at the polearm stuck deep in his chest. Wet, sucking breaths came erratically, the light in his eyes visibly dimming.

    As Silver and his mother approached him, his pained expression turned panicked, his irises flitting about¡ªfor allies, salvation¡­anything.

    Silver and his mother stood over Dancer now, just as a System message came in to Terry.

    Dancer of New York has requested a private channel. Accept?

    He stared at that notification for a split second, then accepted.

    <blockquote>

    [Dancer]: Son, tell them to let me live! I¡¯ll give up my Singularities! I¡¯ll agree to whatever they want!

    </blockquote>

    Terry read and reread that message, stunned silent for the moment. Then, he felt his other grandfather¡¯s glance, knew that Necroton had received a similar message. He met his grandfather¡¯s eyes; saw the unasked question there.

    What do you want to do?

    He considered that for a breath. What do I want to do? Somehow, deep down, he knew that if he pressed the issue, his mother and Silver would relent; knew that Necroton would back him. He didn¡¯t know how, it was just a feeling deep in his gut.

    But for some reason¡­he didn¡¯t want to push for clemency, didn¡¯t want them to pardon Dancer. There was an insidiousness to the man who had dominated the other S-rankers of North America, a rotten core that Terry didn¡¯t think could ever be purged.

    He didn¡¯t know how Dancer could find a way to work against them¡ªthey would have six Singularities between their coalition, and a seventh once he called back the Metaphysical.

    And yet, something told him that to spare Dancer would bring retribution down on them, someway or another.

    With a shift of his head, he told the Emperor all of that and more.

    His grandfather¡¯s eyebrows flicked once in surprise, then he nodded in agreement.

    Dancer didn¡¯t miss the exchange¡ªpunctured lungs or not. Desperation lit across his face as he stirred his aura for one singular, explosive attack.

    Before it could coalesce, Silver plucked Reach¡¯s polearm from his chest and finished Dancer with a stab in the heart. The gathering aura slowed, turbid and lazy, before dissipating entirely. Dancer¡¯s eyes lost their magic, dulled, then turned glassy.

    The light fled them entirely as his body went slack.

    Two echoing cries rang up from Dancer and a beat later, his Singularities slipped free from his flesh, rising into the air above him.

    Without any indication, Terry knew instinctively which was the Mental Singularity and which was the Presence Singularity.

    The three exposed Singularities created a rotating ripple of aura around the cavern, brushing across Terry¡¯s senses, both distracting and intoxicating. He felt an unconscious pull toward them, but managed to clear his head with a quick shake.

    Sol coughed into his fist and all eyes turned to him.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to claim any of these,¡± he started. ¡°Though the Elemental sings in my thoughts, I understand that we¡¯re on the cusp of electing the Omega¡­¡± He hesitated as if embarrassed to continue.

    ¡°What is it, Uncle Sol?¡± his mother asked.

    He glanced toward the Elemental Singularity, sighing deeply.

    ¡°I wish to reclaim my home.¡± His voice grew sturdier, full of a fire that had began to kindle once more as he had defied Qui Shen. ¡°I wish to remove that blight infecting Topeka, once and for all.¡±

    Terraform stepped forward, nodding heavily.

    ¡°You mean the Black Wall, don¡¯t you? I¡¯ll lend what expertise I have to help in anyway I can.¡±

    ¡°So will I,¡± his mother said. She turned toward Silver. ¡°What¡¯d you say, Dad? Kick the Council and SPC outta Topeka for good?¡±

    Terry watched as a roguish smile touched Silver¡¯s lips.

    ¡°Hell, Pen, my blood¡¯s still pumpin¡¯. Let¡¯s go put those fuckers on notice.¡±

    <hr>

    Sol, with the Elemental Singularity in his chest, flew high above Topeka, shining brighter than any star on the darkest night. All around the city, civilians and the Market refugees watched as he promised them freedom from the tyranny of the super elite, a refuge against the machinations of Dancer, the Council, and their ilk. He spoke of democracy, elected officials, and freedom from even his own power. He would be the guardian of that democracy, only acting in its interest.

    He ended his speech by harnessing the Elemental Singularity, turning his power upon the Black Wall that blighted Topeka, running like a scar down its middle.

    Wherever his light touched, the Wall began to lose its structural integrity. Pieces began to fall from the top, rushing to the ground below. As the giant blocks of the Wall were about to strike, Terraform stirred his element and caught the massive debris, reincorporating it with the earth.

    Further down the structure, Silver smashed the Wall with his fists and pulses of the Material Singularity, while his mother used her aura to dissipate the magic holding it together. Tinker, in an earlier model of his power armor, floated around and dispersed nano bots that began to eat away at the Wall.

    As for Necroton and Terry, they found James and Terry couldn¡¯t resist the urge to throw himself into his father¡¯s arms.

    Thankfully for his dignity, he managed to keep any tears at bay.

    When they separated, his father held him at arm¡¯s length, eyeing him up and down.

    ¡°I only saw you a while ago, but you¡¯re so¡­different. Older looking, more mature.¡±

    Terry snorted, wiping at his chin.

    ¡°Must be the peach fuzz filling in.¡±

    His dad smiled, but there was a seriousness to his eyes that sobered Terry up.

    ¡°I mean it, Ter. I haven¡¯t heard the whole story yet, but from what I did hear¡­I¡¯m so proud of you.¡±

    Scratch that, the tears had decided they did want to come, after all.

    He managed to shove them down after a few moments of effort and smiled back at his father.

    ¡°Thanks, Dad.¡±

    James nodded, then looked over Terry¡¯s shoulder at something. Terry turned to follow his gaze and caught his mother approaching from the air.

    With a desperation in his voice that Terry had only ever heard twice, James cried out to her.

    ¡°Pen! Oh, my God! You¡¯re alive!¡±

    He crossed the hundred yards between them in superhuman fashion, dashing into her arms hard enough to send them both tumbling to the ground.

    Terry watched his parents kiss and hug in a way that once would have made him beet red and wishing to be anywhere else in the entire universe.

    Now¡­he simply smiled.

    At his side, the Emperor spoke.

    ¡°Doubt her methods. Doubt his choices. But never doubt their love for you or each other. That¡¯s more solid than the very earth we stand on.¡±

    Terry side-eyed his grandfather in surprise, but couldn¡¯t find fault in anything he said, even if he had plenty to fault in the man himself.

    Before he could reply, a series of notifications scrolled into view.

    Quest Complete: [Free Topeka]

    Calculating reward¡­

    One talent point awarded

    Aura Projection: D7 ¡ú D9

    Aura Control: D8 ¡ú D9

    Aura Perception: D9 ¡ú C0

    Presence Average: D8 ¡ú D9

    New Quest Given: [Deny the Omega]

    Prevent the Omega from forming.

    Reward: A special item to aid you on your Midmark Quest.

    He stared at that new Quest in disbelief. His mouth opened and shut as he instinctively went to ask his grandfather about it, then realized he couldn¡¯t.

    Beneath the Quest, a System Note populated as if the Weaver had doubted that he would buy in to its request.

    System Note: Please trust me, Terry¡­

    All around him, the cacophony of the Black Wall¡¯s destruction rang in his ears. And yet, all he could think about were those last words by his System.

    Please trust me, Terry¡­

    A distant part of his mind realized his parents were in front of him, had said something to him¡ªprobably more than once. He shook his head, blinking a few times before his ears would process the words.

    ¡°Terry? Are you okay?¡± his mother asked, a look of concern on her face.

    He raised his eyebrows, feigning an easy look.

    ¡°Yeah, fine, fine. Sorry, what were you saying?¡±

    She studied him a moment longer as if trying to peer through any cracks in his facade. Not finding any, she seemed temporarily mollified.

    ¡°Sol said you somehow teleported the Metaphysical Singularity away.¡± A wry smile touched her lips. ¡°Which you¡¯re gonna have to explain to me at some point.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Anyway, I can sense it roaming through the earth below. Your grandfather could go snag it, but it¡¯d be simpler if you could bring it back¡­¡±

    She trailed off and he realized his anxiety must have reappeared on his face.

    He forced a smile on, waving away her still forming question.

    ¡°Yeah, easy peasy. Give me one second.¡±

    He turned away so she wouldn¡¯t see his face drop as his thoughts churned.

    Deny the Omega¡­Why¡­

    A part of him considered just ignoring the Quest¡ªthere didn¡¯t appear to be any punishment if he did. And he didn¡¯t think the Weaver would do that, anyway. It wasn¡¯t like his mother¡¯s System or even his father and grandfather¡¯s. The Weaver hadn¡¯t given him any reason to doubt or question it. The opposite, really. It had guided him toward the truth of his mother and her memory manipulation. It had led him to feeding Wichita and bringing light back to a besieged city.

    All of this, Wichita, Topeka, the Market¡ªit all seemed orchestrated by the Weaver on some level. His reunion with his mother, Sol¡¯s recovery, and the Market¡¯s residents surviving to make it to the surface.

    Did any of that happen without the Weaver directing me?

    Those thoughts coalesced into a decision. The evidence was just too overwhelming.

    With a pull through their connection, he directed¡ªno, asked, really¡ªfor the Singularity to return to him. He felt its answering cry and knew it was drawing on his aura to punch through space on a return path.

    ¡°It¡¯s on the way back,¡± he said, turning to face his parents¡ªand the other S-rankers, he realized.

    At some point, they had finished tearing down the Black Wall and were all gathered now.

    ¡°Well, now comes the weird part,¡± Silver said with a chagrined smile. ¡°Who¡¯re we gonna pick to become the Omega?¡±

    Necroton growled, rolling his eyes.

    ¡°We already know who it¡¯s gonna be, you fool.¡±

    Silver looked around in confusion, the unasked question obvious in his eyes.

    ¡°Not you!¡± Necroton practically yelled. His gaze turned to Terry¡¯s mother expectantly.

    Silver looked to his daughter, his eyes widening briefly before a smile touched his face.

    ¡°Can¡¯t say I disagree.¡±

    Sol nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve known Penelope since she was a baby. There¡¯s no one I¡¯d rather have as the Omega.¡±

    Terry felt the Metaphysical Singularity approaching, their connection like a live wire on his mind. His anxiety seemed to edge higher the closer it neared, until he was barely listening.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never met the White Rose before,¡± Terraform started. ¡°But your reputation is second to none.¡± He smiled, nudging Terry. ¡°And if your son is anything to go by, that reputation is well earned.¡±

    Silver looked around for a moment before speaking.

    ¡°All opposed, say nay.¡± He waited a beat, but it was obvious no one was going to speak up. ¡°All for, say aye.¡±

    Necroton grunted in annoyance, but repeated it. Sol and Terraform followed a moment later. Silver threw out an echoing ¡®aye¡¯, full of cheer.

    And then they looked toward Terry.

    ¡°Terry?¡± his mother asked. ¡°Are you okay? You look sick.¡±

    It was near¡ªso damn near.

    He shook his head, his eyes wide but staring at nothing.

    ¡°No, Mom¡­I¡¯m not okay.¡±

    She reached out, a look of concern on her face.

    That was when the Singularity materialized in his hand. Waves of power rolled off it, echoing with its siblings inside the others standing nearby. He felt all eyes turn to it expectantly, waiting for him to hand it over.

    He shoved it into his chest.

    Pain seared him, radiating out like the spokes of a wheel, singeing his limbs, his arteries and veins, his eyeballs, the fingernails on his hands, until he thought he might black out.

    With one last effort of will, he accepted his Midmark Quest.

    ¡°TERRY!¡± his mother cried.

    He was falling. Silver rushed to catch him but even superhuman speed had limits.

    Everything turned black for the briefest flash. Words seared across his vision.

    Summons accepted.

    ¡­

    Thank you for trusting me, Terry.

    Then, sensation returned to his body, and along with it, the pain. The sound of howling filled his ears, the bitter, biting wind cutting at his skin. Cold tried to infect him, but was hounded by the warmth of the Singularity in his chest.

    Another notification came in then, chilling him to the bone despite that warmth.

    Welcome to the Underworld¡­

 B2 - Chapter 23: Welcome to the Underworld

    Part Two: The Underworld

    The white-hot fire coursing through his limbs cut through the adrenaline, the cold, and the fear, blanking his mind, paralyzing his limbs. It was only the intuitive knowledge deep in the back of his thoughts, the knowledge that the Singularity was about to burn him from the inside out and leave him a dried husk, that forced him to return to awareness.

    Hanging before his eyes were the notifications he knew he needed to read in order to survive.

    With a desperate effort of will, he stirred his vision, focusing on the words in front of him.

    Quest Complete: [Deny the Omega]

    Reward granted: [Aura Filtering Container ¡ª S-grade]

    Quest Revealed: [Midmark Quest] ¡ú [Restore the Bloodsplatter Clan to their Ancestral Home]

    The Bloodsplatter Clan was exiled to the Surface many years past. Help them reclaim their home in the Underworld proper.

    Reward: C-rank, the goodwill of the Bloodsplatter Clan, and a return trip home.

    Bonus Objective: Restore the Lakarot to power.

    Bonus Reward: Variable.

    New Quest Given: [Stronger Together]

    Every hero needs a team. Find yours.

    [5 of 5] living.

    Objective: Keep your team alive.

    Reward: Variable.

    Despite reading the words, his brain couldn¡¯t seem to process their meaning through the pain. He recognized something about his Quest updating, but the specifics fuzzed in his mind. Then there was that reward¡­a filtering something.

    Past the words in his eyes, he spotted a metal cube no wider than his hand. For the briefest moment, he swore there was a flash of light around it, like a corona trying to snag his attention.

    His arm was stiff, his hands felt frozen. He tried to reach the cube but realized he was buried in something. Through the pain, he turned his attention to unburying himself. Distantly¡ªas he clawed his way out from under¡ªhe realized it was snow pinning him down.

    That explains the bitter cold¡­

    He breached the top layer, his hand frozen in a claw shape as he reached for the cube. Well, reach was a strong word. He more threw his arm forward, and his hand-claw flopped on top of the cube.

    A notification immediately scrolled into view.

    Deposit item, [Unknown], into [Aura Filtering Container ¡ª S-grade]?

    He had to reread the words three times, his consciousness flickering from the waves of power emanating from deep inside his chest.

    Is the Singularity the item? he wondered.

    This felt like such a simple question, but the alternating cold and warmth was sapping his energy, turning his thoughts to mud.

    Yes, he decided, it probably was.

    He thought he accepted the prompt, but the black was slinking in from the corners, narrowing his vision along with his thoughts.

    I accept, he said in his head. I accept. I accept. I¡­

    There was no indication if it had worked as he drifted off. His only thought in that moment was that he finally felt comfortable, warm¡­content. He let his mind go, falling back into the warmth with a soft smile.

    <hr>

    Terry¡¯s thoughts crawled out of the cold step-by-step, first in a jumble, then finally lining up into some form of coherence.

    The first thing he noticed was the cold wasn¡¯t as bone-biting as it had seemed before. One explanation could have been that the frostbite had fully settled in and he was on death¡¯s door. Then again, the furs draped over his body were another plausible reason.

    Furs¡­?

    He jerked awake in a panic¡ªand immediately regretted it.

    Everything hurt, from the tips of his toes, up to the ache in his ears. But worst of all was the burning emptiness deep inside his chest¡ªa gaping wound that cried out, a phantom pain that echoed in his soul.

    Realizing what that must have meant, he clawed around for the cube, the pain from a moment before now a distant memory in the wake of his panic. He forced his eyes open through the rime that had held them tight, taking in his surroundings for the first time.

    He appeared to be in a dark cave, the wind howling through like the wraiths of Wichita. Not too far from where he lay stood the narrow entrance, just wide enough to fit his shoulders and tall enough that he wouldn¡¯t have to bend his head. Past that, snow swirled in the dark, a blanket of white that stormed with a terrible wailing.

    Twisting uncomfortably, he glanced over his shoulder¡ªand nearly jumped out of his skin.

    Four people-like shapes lingered in the inky dark of the deepest portion of the cave. Only their barest silhouettes were visible and they clearly had something held between them that they were leaning over.

    With a flex of his power, he activated Master of Light and¡ª

    Searing electricity splashed across his aura, like touching a live wire. He immediately released his hold, falling back into the furs with a silent gasp, his eyes clenched tight against the pain. Three ragged breaths later, he felt along his aura with a tentative touch.

    It was raw, frayed from the center extending out¡­right where the Singularity had been nestled.

    The Singularity!

    He snapped open his eyes again, ignoring the edge to his nerves and wheel of pain spiraling out from his chest.

    ¡°Gah!¡±

    Standing over him were the four silhouettes¡ªnow faintly visible against the backdrop of the snowstorm outside.

    As he cried out, they too recoiled in obvious shock, though they recovered a moment later. They leaned back in, clearly as interested in him as he was surprised by them.

    From this distance, he could see more of the four figures and it was immediately obvious that they weren¡¯t all human.

    The first one he noticed was short and wide¡ªbarely reaching the waists of the other people, while just as broad as Terry at the shoulders. It had a rodent-like face with an extended snout and whiskers on its cheeks. But from what little light there was, he could see an intelligent glint in its eyes as it surveyed Terry up and down with an almost clinical appraisal.

    The next figure was human¡ªa boy roughly Terry¡¯s age, with dark skin and hair and stubble on his chin that either spoke to a teenager¡¯s desperate desire for a man¡¯s beard or the irregular growth of someone who had no access to shaving equipment.

    Terry didn¡¯t like what the latter implied about how long they¡¯d been here.

    Beside the boy was a lithe and wiry non-human. He assumed non-human because he counted six fingers¡­and four arms. They were the tallest of the four, but rail thin in comparison to the rodent-faced person.

    The last person seemed human too, though there was an exotic cast to the few identifiers that made him wonder if she¡ªhe was pretty confident they were a she¡ªwas from Earth or some other human-occupied world.

    She had a striking jaw with cheekbones sharp enough to cut paper. He couldn¡¯t see her eyes, but he felt their gaze without realizing how. Large, black-rock earrings sat heavy on her lobes, nearly the size of her entire ear and she had a matching necklace visible through the skins she wore.

    His eyes tracked down¡ªvery purposefully not examining anything else about her that might have sparked an issue¡ªand caught on the device held loosely in her hand.

    ¡°Hey! That¡¯s mine!¡±

    He moved to grab the cube that he assumed contained the Singularity, but his limbs betrayed him, a splash of new fire washing across his chest.

    The girl pulled away instinctively, glanced down at the cube, then held it out silently. His hand reached up weakly, pulling it tight to his chest.

    The other human-looking person didn¡¯t remain silent. He gasped, his eyes widening.

    ¡°English?¡± he asked, his accent sounding familiar to Terry¡¯s ears, but hard to place with the wave of pain flaring throughout his body. ¡°You¡¯re from Earth!¡±

    Terry looked at the dark-skinned boy, his eyes widening once he realized the implication; he had someone to actually explain what was going on.

    ¡°Yes! I¡¯m from Earth! Terry from W¡ª¡± He stopped himself as a thought occurred to him. Wichita¡ªand more specifically, the Emperor¡ªhad connotations around it that could potentially affect their feelings of him. ¡°¡ªfrom West Topeka,¡± he amended.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    The boy seemed not to notice his hesitation, his excitement getting the better of him.

    ¡°Oh, thank God! My name¡¯s Juan. I¡¯m from Mexico City.¡± He put a hand on the small, rodent-faced alien. ¡°This here¡¯s Chippy¡ªwell, Chialpuncritis¡ªbut none of us can pronounce it quite right.¡± The alien sniffed with his large snout, then waved a little paw in greeting. Juan moved to indicate the four-armed alien, when the human girl smacked his arm, her eyes widening with obvious annoyance.

    Terry glanced between the two of them in confusion. Juan rubbed at the back of his neck with a chagrined expression.

    ¡°Sorry, uh, Terry. We have a rule that we only talk in Team Chat. None of us speak the same language and uh¡­¡± Juan looked noticeably uncomfortable, rubbing at his elbow as if remembering some old injury. ¡°¡­there were some disagreements early on.¡±

    Terry squinted at the four of them, not quite liking what he was sensing. Before he could question Juan further, movement at the cave entrance drew his gaze behind the four of them and his eyes widened in shock.

    They noticed his look, flipping around as one to watch the figure approaching the entrance through the raging blizzard.

    He felt his heart begin to race as the silhouette grew closer. Whatever it was was large, clearly standing taller than the entrance and noticeably wider. As it approached, it hesitated at the doorway, examining something for a moment before looking inside. When it leaned its head down to peer in, Terry felt a flash of fear grip him.

    Long braids dipped over its shoulder, ornamented with beads, bits of glass, and clinking metal shaped into unknown animals. A large fur cloak was draped over its shoulder, giving it a larger silhouette than what was actually underneath¡ªthough Terry noted it was still quite large. At its hip, he saw two leather sheathes, but realized a moment later that they were empty.

    That was little consolation, given the claws he saw slipping free from its fingers.

    He prepared to stir his aura through the raw, abrading pain; at the bare minimum, he could try and blind the creature with his Master of Light.

    What happened next threw him off so thoroughly, he could only process it after the fact.

    As the thing eyed them with an anger that even its alien anatomy couldn¡¯t obfuscate, notifications rolled into Terry¡¯s view. He ignored them for the moment, watching as the creature¡ªand all four of the people standing over him¡ªbecame encased in a corona of light.

    It was a System indicator¡­

    Quest Updated: [Stronger Together]

    Every hero needs a team. Find yours.

    Update ¡ú Team identified. Marking on your interface.

    Next Step: Survive the Underworld.

    (Optional) Work together.

    [5 of 5] living.

    Reward: Variable

    Join Team Chat?

    Past the words in his eyes, he saw the newcomer waving its hand emphatically at the doorway, then toward Terry. Then, the human girl indicated Terry with an equally impassioned gesture, shaking her head toward the newcomer.

    What was strange about it all was that the exchange was entirely silent. At first, he considered they were doing a rudimentary sign language, but then his brain caught up to the notifications and what Juan had said a minute earlier.

    With a thought, he accepted the Team Chat invite.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I don¡¯t care if she was cold! Now the whole shelter is cold!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: It¡¯s a him. And should we have let him die, then?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Maybe. Look at him. He¡¯s weak and helpless, just like the rest of them. Just another mouth to feed.

    </blockquote>

    The newcomer, Al¡¯Ruzan, huffed indignantly, stepping back out of the cave before returning a second later with a body clutched by a hindleg. It dragged the body into the cave, throwing it roughly to the floor.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Chippy, skin this.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan tossed a small knife toward the diminutive Chippy, who caught the knife with a little squeak. As Chippy rushed forward, the four-armed alien joined it, helping to drag the body deeper into the cave. As they passed, Terry realized the body was a dire wolf not unlike his father¡¯s summons, Skol and Hati, though this one was far, far smaller.

    Behind them, Al¡¯Ruzan studied Terry for a moment, then stomped forward with heavy strides, reaching down toward him. For the briefest moment, he thought Al¡¯Ruzan was going to attack him. But its clawed hand reached down, gripped the furs covering him, and ripped them away.

    A wash of bitter cold snatched the air from his lungs and he started shivering immediately. He was only wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and cursed himself¡ªand the Weaver¡ªfor not preparing at all for the weather.

    No one said anything as Al¡¯Ruzan stomped back toward the cave entrance, but Juan gave him a sympathetic look, while Mara-Lin-Jaid scowled at Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s back.

    A moment later, she took the fur off her own shoulders, draping it over Terry.

    ¡°Th-thank y-you,¡± he chattered, meeting her eyes.

    Al¡¯Ruzan whirled around from where he was hanging the furs, his eyes flashing furiously as he stared toward Terry. He crossed the small cavern in a single lunge, yanking the furs off and hauling him to his feet by a grip on his arm.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: We only speak in Team Chat, fresh meat. Is that clear?

    </blockquote>

    Terry stared into Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s face, finally getting a close enough glimpse to see his alien features in the dim light. His eyes were yellow like a cat¡¯s, piercing, searching for some hint of defiance. His teeth were long, resting over his lips. At first, they seemed more like fangs, but from this close up, Terry realized they were actually filed into points. His skin was blue-green, pockmarked and scarred, reminding him a bit of Whipvine¡¯s snarling scars.

    As they locked eyes, a wave of Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s hot breath washed across his face, making Terry furl his nose with disgust. It smelled of rot and raw meat. He supposed he couldn¡¯t blame the alien¡ªhe doubted there was toothpaste in the Underworld.

    Al¡¯Ruzan noticed his expression, his eyes narrowing in renewed rage. He shook Terry violently, sparking fresh pain in his arm.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Are you simple? Answer me!

    </blockquote>

    Terry¡¯s eyebrows rose as he forced his thoughts away from the agony spearing through his arm. For a moment, he considered ignoring the alien, but his aura was still raw and his skin frozen; he doubted he could even stand if Al¡¯Ruzan wasn¡¯t holding him upright, let alone fight the towering alien.

    All the same, he wasn¡¯t going to let this guy manhandle him whenever he wanted.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I understand. Now let go of my arm.

    </blockquote>

    He saw Chippy and the four-armed alien exchange frightful glances, while Juan¡¯s eyes went wide in shock. As for Al¡¯Ruzan, his eyes narrowed dangerously and Terry knew he¡¯d have to fight back, even if he was currently outmatched.

    Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s free arm reared up to backhand him and Terry clenched his teeth against the pain of his aura as he prepared to strike back with his own Skills¡ªwhen Mara-Lin-Jaid stepped between them, turning to face Al¡¯Ruzan.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Enough, Al¡¯Ruzan. He¡¯s been here less than an hour and unconscious for most of that.

    </blockquote>

    She placed a hand on his upraised arm, like she was soothing a bucking bull.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Why don¡¯t you go rest. We¡¯ll have the meat ready in a couple hours.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan clicked his filed teeth together thoughtfully, glancing over Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s shoulder to eye Terry.

    Terry held his gaze, not giving an inch, but not prodding the alien into a fight either.

    Al¡¯Ruzan snarled once, then released Terry¡¯s arm, shoving him hard enough to send him sprawling to the stone floor. It hurt but he wouldn¡¯t let the pain show as he rolled to his hands and knees. With his aura already stirring, he kept it going past the exposed, raw feeling, activating Master of Light to control the infrared light escaping his skin. A simple pull brought it back in, warming him¡ªor rather, not letting him get any colder¡ªas he clambered up to one foot, then the other.

    He shook unsteadily as he gained his feet, but kept his eyes on Al¡¯Ruzan as the apparent leader stared into Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s eyes. Terry got the impression there was a private chat going on between the two of them¡ªwhich seemed hypocritical, given all the fuss about only speaking in Team Chat.

    After a tense moment where the others stared toward them out of the corners of their eyes, Al¡¯Ruzan finally relaxed, letting out a stiff bark that sounded like his version of a laugh.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Fine, I¡¯ll let you live, fresh meat. But you don¡¯t eat unless you contribute.

    </blockquote>

    He waved back toward the dire wolf corpse.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Help the weaklings skin it.

    </blockquote>

    With that proclamation, Al¡¯Ruzan retreated to the back of the cave where a fur bed waited for him. It was obvious from the way he laid into it that the bed was his and only his.

    Which explained why the others hadn¡¯t deposited Terry there, instead risking his ire by claiming the makeshift cave door.

    When he turned back from watching Al¡¯Ruzan, he met Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s eyes. There was no expression there as they stared at each other¡ªa disinterest, if he had to guess what he was seeing. But then a notification appeared and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid has request a System chat. Accept?

    He shrugged, indicating yes with a thought. Her response rolled in immediately.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: That¡¯s the last time I pull your ass out of the fire. Next time you antagonize him, you¡¯re on your own.

    </blockquote>

    Before he could reply, she strode toward the cave exit, picking up the discarded fur to hang it back up against the cold.

    Terry turned to see Juan also watching him, a hint of hope and trepidation mingling in his eyes.

    He sent a chat invite to the boy, knew it arrived from the panicked look he sent Al¡¯Ruzan, then saw Juan¡¯s reply come back.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Bro, we really shouldn¡¯t be talking like this. Big Al¡¯s really particular about us talking in secret.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What¡¯s his deal? Why¡¯s he acting like we¡¯re in Lord of the Flies or something?

    </blockquote>

    Juan cast another harried look toward Al¡¯Ruzan, but the temperamental alien had his furs pulled completely over his face. All the same, Juan put an arm around Terry and pulled him toward the dire wolf corpse where Chippy was quietly slicing away its fur.

    He crouched down next to Chippy and Terry grimaced as he fought through his frozen, aching muscles to join the two. Juan pretended to be busy helping as he sent Terry more messages.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Big Al was the first of the team to be summoned. He won¡¯t say, but we think he¡¯s been here for a year. Maybe two.

    </blockquote>

    Terry¡¯s eyes widened at the revelation.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That¡­really sucks. But this is it, right? We¡¯ve got the five team members and we can start doing whatever it is we need to do.

    </blockquote>

    From the look on Juan¡¯s face, Terry got the impression it wasn¡¯t as black and white as he had thought.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: I¡¯m not sure, bro. Other than going out to get you, we never leave the cave. Mara-Lin-Jaid had a vision that you arrived, which is the only reason Al didn¡¯t rip into us more. He¡¯s the only one that goes out, and that¡¯s only to hunt us food. Even then, we have to give most of it in tribute to the monster.

    </blockquote>

    ¡°The monst¡ª¡± Terry started, but the startled hisses from not only Juan, but Chippy and the four-armed alien made him clamp his mouth shut.

    Chippy slapped his arm lightly, then nodded toward Juan with a scolding look.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Don¡¯t talk, bro! Or Al¡¯s gonna beat us all up.

    </blockquote>

    He watched Terry as if wondering if he¡¯d violate their rule again. But Terry simply sighed, then nodded for Juan to continue.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What¡¯s this monster, then?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: I¡¯ve never seen it, but I hear it whenever Al brings back food. It scratches the cave wall outside if we don¡¯t have its tribute waiting.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay¡­if you¡¯ve never seen it, why¡¯re you so afraid? Why pay tribute at all?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Mara-Lin-Jaid was here¡ªshe¡¯s been here the longest besides Big Al. She told us once in secret that Al refused to part with his hunt one time and it came into the cave and whooped him around before taking the entire kill. Next time, he gave it what it wanted and it left a quarter for them.

    </blockquote>

    Terry sat back on his heels after reading that message, his mind whirling. Two years¡­two years with nothing but this cave, the occasional hunt, and dire wolf meat. Not to mention the monster demanding more than its fair share of whatever you did bring back.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What about this Quest? You make any progress? What¡¯s the Lakarot? And any clue where the Bloodsplatter Clan is located?

    </blockquote>

    Terry didn¡¯t know as much about the Underworld as the grandson of Emperor Necroton should¡ªhis grandfather had never spoken of his visits here. What little Terry knew of the Underworld had been picked up from Crunch, Hoping Tree, and the visions he¡¯d experienced right before his Awakening.

    But the name Bloodsplatter was eerily reminiscent of Crunch¡¯s clan, Bonesplinter. It tracked that they would be of a similar composition, liches, ghouls, wraiths, and so on.

    And Terry¡¯s ghoulish had dramatically improved over the past couple of years.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay, Juan, here¡¯s the deal. I¡¯m not content with just sitting in this cave for two years and hoping this Quest solves itself.

    I have some experience with the denizens of the Underworld and can even speak Ghoulish. So if we¡¯re gonna get back to Earth, I¡¯m gonna need you to tell me everything you know.

    </blockquote>

    Juan¡¯s eyes had widened as he read further into Terry¡¯s message, then shifted as he neared the end. Surprise eventually morphed into excitement, then¡­hope.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Okay, let me start at the beginning¡­

    </blockquote>

 B2 - Chapter 24: The Fight

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What do you mean, you¡¯re a Fire Elementalist!? Why in the Underworld are we freezing our asses off?

    </blockquote>

    Juan took on an indignant look, clearly prepared to respond with some scathing remark, when Chippy and the four-armed alien¡ªPy Dar, or Py for short¡ªboth huffed in annoyance.

    They¡¯d been relaying each of their private conversations back and forth. For some reason, they couldn¡¯t create a System group chat¡ªand Terry had never heard of the possibility anyway. And since the three of them were deathly afraid of Al¡¯Ruzan, they were forced to copy everything they said in private to all three other participants.

    It had seemed unnecessarily tedious at first and Terry had been tempted to buck the arbitrary rule and risk a confrontation with the giant, sleeping alien. But from the looks of fear in their eyes¡ªand the little tidbit from Juan that Al¡¯Ruzan was a Duelist¡ªhe realized that any fight between the two of them would stay between the two of them.

    And Terry¡¯s aura was still raw, exposed like an open wound.

    But things would not stay like this, he vowed. He was gonna finish this Quest, he was gonna get back home¡ªhome to his father, home to his mother¡ªand go back to living his life. There was too much to be done on Earth to waste time in this wasteland.

    Which meant¡ªat least for the time being¡ªhe had to copy every damn message he sent over to Chippy and Py. The only reason he agreed was because it was apparently pretty easy to do with a simple mental command.

    Still, it was the principle of the matter that rubbed him the wrong way.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Yes! I¡¯m a Fire Elementalist.

    </blockquote>

    He looked around with raised eyebrows.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: But I can¡¯t make fire out of thin air. And fire needs fuel. And fuel needs to be dry to burn. How do you reckon we¡¯re gonna get something dry enough to burn in this freeze-my-balls-off cave!?

    </blockquote>

    As they spoke in secret, giving Terry the quick and dirty rundown on their time in the Underworld, their powersets, even their home lives¡ªthough Terry saw the pain flicker in their eyes when they discussed that topic¡ªthey continued to skin and dress the dire wolf.

    Juan was the latest to arrive before Terry, accepting the summons from Earth about two months prior. Py¡ªwho was an Artificer¡ªhad arrived six months back, with Chippy¡ªa Savant¡ªonly preceding her by a couple weeks.

    As far as they knew, Mara-Lin-Jaid had been here almost a year.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: So what have you been doing with the meat? Just eating it raw?

    </blockquote>

    Py furled her nose at the suggestion, while Chippy shrugged as if that wasn¡¯t the worst thing in the world.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Ew, no bro. I may not have fire, but I can stimulate the heat already inside the wolf to cook it. Well, eventually. Takes nearly a day and I¡¯m wiped after.

    </blockquote>

    Terry noticed the very obvious problem with that statement.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: And before you got here?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: We eat raw, of course.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Never again! Never leave us, Juan!

    </blockquote>

    Juan chuckled at that, then went wide eyed as Al¡¯Ruzan made a stirring sound in his bed behind Terry. He looked back but couldn¡¯t see the alien¡¯s face past his furs. Near his bed, Mara-Lin-Jaid was resting with her back against the cave wall, her eyes closed. At Juan¡¯s chuckle, her eyes flicked open, seemed to stare at them disapprovingly¡ªthough it was hard to tell in the dark cave¡ªthen shut once more.

    Content that they¡¯d dodged reprisal from Big Al, Terry decided to cut to the chase.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: So what¡¯s his deal, exactly? I get not wanting to feel excluded. But you can¡¯t speak when he¡¯s asleep? Even in System chats?

    </blockquote>

    Juan instinctively glanced toward Py, who nodded silently, as if taking up the burden of answering.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Al¡¯Ruzan is part of the Dirg¡¯Ghee. My own race has interacted with them over the millennia, even warring from time to time when we¡¯ve disputed over planets.

    They are a martial race and hierarchy is everything to them. Al¡¯Ruzan is not his name¡ªhe has no name until he has earned it through combat. Al is a title given to their royalty based on clan affiliation, while Ruzan means something like ¡®promised¡¯.

    </blockquote>

    Py shrugged, the gesture oddly comical with her four arms.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: I can¡¯t be certain, but I think it¡¯s supposed to mean something like Eventual Royalty or Promised Nobility or some silly nonsense. A marker of potential, I think.

    </blockquote>

    Terry nodded, the pieces finally clicking into place. Big Al had big plans for his life and being trapped in the Underworld for two years hadn¡¯t been on his bingo card. And with no realistic avenue to complete their joint Quest, he had decided to make the best of his situation.

    More than that, a rigid hierarchy meant two things: he couldn¡¯t abide a challenge to his authority¡­and he expected a mutiny¡ªit wasn¡¯t if, but when.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay, things are starting to make sense. Next big question mark. This monster, what gives? It¡¯s clearly smart enough not to just wipe us out and eat us¡ªBig Al¡¯s providing it regular meals, after all.

    </blockquote>

    But by that very fact, it¡¯s also not trapping us in here. Big Al goes hunting every few days, right?

    He looked between the three of them, carefully studying their reactions to his next question.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: So the question is¡­why haven¡¯t you all made a break for it? Surely you realize the status quo can¡¯t hold up? Better risk it and die than spend two years in here.

    </blockquote>

    Only because he was watching their faces so closely, did he see the thoughtful expressions turn into utter terror. He only had a half-second warning before he was violently pulled up from a crouch and pinned to the cave wall by two powerful hands.

    Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s talons dug into his skin, drawing blood that immediately chilled his flesh. That familiar wave of hot, foul breath washed over his face as the giant alien barked something in an incomprehensible language.

    Terry squirmed under Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s grip for a moment, but then the shock was burned away by the anger.

    ¡°Get your fucking hands off me!¡±

    His grip tightened, pulling a gasp from his lungs. Al¡¯Ruzan growled more alien words, then seemed to realize Terry couldn¡¯t understand him.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I thought I told you the rules! We only speak in Team Chat. Is that too difficult for you to understand!

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    </blockquote>

    The fire in his arms fueled the fire in his chest. Raw aura or not, he¡¯d spent plenty of time Body Tempering like any normal Duelist; his Physical Attributes were in the Ds. Maybe they weren¡¯t on the level of a giant brute like Al¡¯Ruzan. But this wasn¡¯t Savage or Whipvine pinning him to the wall.

    This was just a D-ranker.

    With a cry that was half-pain, half-fury, he pushed against Al¡¯Ruzan with his pinned arms. For a moment, he thought that maybe he had overestimated his own strength, maybe they weren¡¯t in the same realm like he had thought.

    Then, the shock registered on Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s face as Terry¡¯s arms shifted. Al¡¯Ruzan slid his foot back to regain the leverage, shoving Terry back against the wall, but Terry had seen daylight now and he was bucking against the pin like a feral dog.

    He prepared to pull on his aura, fight through the pain, and give him the inch he needed to get his knee between them. Something in Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s braided hair had caught his eye earlier and he saw his leverage point¡ª

    A scratching sound froze the air in the cave, causing Chippy to squeak in terror, while Juan and Py scampered away from the entrance.

    Even Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s eyes went wide in shock, releasing Terry with a hurried grunt. Before Terry could process the quick change of events, Al¡¯Ruzan rushed over to the dire wolf, placed a taloned foot on the torso, and gripped the haunch with two hands.

    Then, he began straining against it as his foot held the torso down, like he was trying to deadlift the leg against his own weight.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid was the next to react. She raced over to the corpse, moving Chippy bodily as she plucked Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s knife from the rodent alien¡¯s hand. With practiced motion, she began sawing at the joint where the haunch met the body.

    Terry could only stare on in morbid fascination as the connective tissue began to tear, before Al¡¯Ruzan suddenly took a surprised step backward, the separated haunch held between his hands. He chucked it over to Juan, who flinched as the bloody meat slapped against his chest, then began dragging the rest of the dire wolf corpse toward the entrance.

    Terry followed his progress in shocked silence; the stark transition from their physical confrontation to this harried dismemberment had even put him on the back foot.

    But as his eyes tracked Al¡¯Ruzan toward the cave entrance, that was when he saw it.

    Its silhouette was large¡ªlarger than even Al¡¯Ruzan, who Terry estimated was over seven feet tall. Though the storm continued to rage, whiting out the world beyond the cave, he noted that the monster was humanoid in shape, but had a fur outline, giving it the appearance of a bipedal polar bear.

    Past the pain, past the trepidation, Terry quested his aura forward, caught the barest hint of an aura.

    Then, Al¡¯Ruzan chucked the dire wolf corpse toward the monster and inclined his head. Before Terry could confirm anything else about the creature, it was gone, the corpse lifted as easily as a chicken wing.

    A hushed silence descended on the group as all eyes stared toward that blank white of the storm, as if expecting the monster to return and gut them all. After a moment that stretched for an eternity, Mara-Lin-Jaid let out a heavy sigh of relief and sagged against the wall. In answer, Chippy let out a happy squeak, but immediately wilted as Al¡¯Ruzan cast a dark gaze toward him. Juan still held the dismembered leg in his hands, away from his chest to minimize the contact. But the damage was done; he was slathered in blood and the dismay was writ across his face.

    There was no laundry service in the Underworld.

    But Terry kept his eyes locked on Al¡¯Ruzan. He wasn¡¯t naive enough to think that was the end of their fight. His earlier pull on his aura had hurt, but he could bear it if it meant not getting his ass kicked.

    The ball bearing bracelet that Silver had give him so long ago¡ªthe one he¡¯d used on the sanguine elder¡ªliquefied with a pulse of his aura, drawing into long, thin needles. He kept them out of sight as he staggered his feet, making it seem like he was gearing up for a pure fistfight.

    Al¡¯Ruzan couldn¡¯t miss the challenge in his stance. Fury lived in his eyes as he studied Terry from the cave entrance.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: You nearly cost us everything, fresh meat!

    </blockquote>

    He took a step forward, his eyes never leaving Terry¡¯s. His hand reached out, angled toward Mara-Lin-Jaid.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Give me my knife, Mara-Lin-Jaid.

    </blockquote>

    Terry felt his heart quicken. If that was the kind of fight they were gonna have, then he couldn¡¯t pull any punches. He¡¯d open a portal through Al¡¯Ruzan and shear the giant in half.

    Pulling his punches against a D-ranked Duelist who was stronger, faster, and twice as heavy would just see him bleeding out in this frozen hell.

    And that, Terry wasn¡¯t going to let happen.

    I¡¯m getting back to my world, Al¡­even if it means I have to go through you.

    Heavy seconds passed where no one made a move. Mara-Lin-Jaid held the bloody knife in her hands, Al¡¯Ruzan held his own hand out expectantly, and Terry prepared to rip Al¡¯Ruzan in half before the fight could even kick off.

    The tension of the stalemate weighed on his shoulders and he knew that someone would have to break it. Since he refused to bow down to this tyrant, the only other option was to end the fight decisively. He began to feel through space, letting his aura trace along its shape.

    It was different here¡ªlike a flavor that was just a bit too heavily salted. He could sense it, move and part it, but it didn¡¯t come as naturally as it did back on Earth.

    All the same, his strength was more than enough for the job. He began to coax a portal open, cut through Al¡¯Ruzan like a knife through butter, when Mara-Lin-Jaid suddenly moved.

    With a flick of the blade, the dire wolf¡¯s nearly frozen blood went flying. Then, she wiped it along her pants leg and tucked it into her belt.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: There will not be anymore fighting. Not today.

    </blockquote>

    Terry held his working loosely, feeling a bit discombobulated by her sudden declaration. On one hand, he didn¡¯t want to kill Al¡¯Ruzan. He¡¯d never killed anyone¡ªsanguine excluded¡ªand he knew from talking to Whipvine that there was always a hidden toll to pay when you took a life.

    On the other hand, nothing irritated him more than petty tyrants.

    So he didn¡¯t let his aura relax, kept his grip on space ready to slice in a blink. Across the cave, Al¡¯Ruzan seemed just as tense, his legs bent as if he were preparing to lunge.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid stepped in the center of them, giving Terry a cryptic look before turning to face Al¡¯Ruzan.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: There will not be anymore fighting.

    </blockquote>

    The tension seemed to drain out of Al¡¯Ruzan, surprising Terry.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan]: You¡¯ve seen it?

    </blockquote>

    She didn¡¯t answer, but Terry thought he saw her head incline by the barest fraction. Suddenly, everything snapped into place. Juan had said something earlier, when Terry was barely coherent.

    He had said, Mara-Lin-Jaid had a vision that you arrived.

    ¡°You¡¯re a Seer!¡± he blurted out.

    She turned to face him, her eyes narrowed in confusion. Behind her Al¡¯Ruzan bristled, but didn¡¯t attack.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Sorry, I forgot you don¡¯t speak English. I said, you¡¯re a Seer?

    </blockquote>

    She gave him a patronizing look, as if to say, duh. He chuckled lightly, feeling the pending violence in the air drain away.

    He met Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s eyes over her shoulder. There were a couple of different tactics he imagined taking with the giant. From his talks with Crunch, Burg, and Blood, he knew that warrior cultures operated on strength and fearlessness. Admitting a reluctance to fight was tantamount to outing yourself as a coward. Weakness was exploited, strength worshiped.

    But that wasn¡¯t him. He didn¡¯t want to beat Al¡¯Ruzan down and claim leadership of the group. They were a team and they needed to work together, in common purpose, not fear.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Listen. Us fighting isn¡¯t gonna accomplish anything. You¡¯ve been here for who knows how long and your prospects of ever seeing your home again are slim to none with the way things have been going.

    Am I right?

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, but it was Mara-Lin-Jaid who responded.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: You are right.

    </blockquote>

    Terry nodded, thanking her silently for easing the conversation. He continued, not wanting to waste the goodwill she¡¯d earned him with that simple statement.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: From my understanding, not only do we not know what the Lakarot is, we don¡¯t even know where the Bloodsplatter Clan is, and have no means of getting to them even if we did.

    </blockquote>

    He took a deep breath, second-guessing what he had planned to say next. There was a danger to exposing his abilities. He¡¯d been conditioned by both his father and Silver not to expose what he was capable of.

    And yet, if he was going to earn their trust, he needed to lay all the cards on the table.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I can make portals. With some advanced scouting and intel, I can get us wherever we need to go.

    </blockquote>

    Shocked gasps came from Py and Juan, while Chippy started squeaking excitedly, his little eyes flitting about to each of them. Mara-Lin-Jaid didn¡¯t react at all, her arms crossed, her expression as still as a lake.

    Al¡¯Ruzan, however, suddenly grew animated. He passed Mara-Lin-Jaid in a single step, crossing to Terry in a blink.

    Terry was so thrown off by the sudden aggression, he didn¡¯t have time to part space, stab out with his silver needles, or even put his guard up.

    ¡°Al¡¯Ruzan!¡± Mara-Lin-Jaid shouted out loud. Terry might have noted her accent had a pleasant lilt to it¡ªif a seven-foot-tall monster of a Duelist wasn¡¯t suddenly standing chest-to-nose with him.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I call you a liar and shall prove it.

    </blockquote>

    His hand ripped out, wrapping around Terry¡¯s throat. The prick of his talons on his skin drew blood, the pressure of his fingers digging into his esophagus. It wasn¡¯t enough to crush Terry¡¯s throat, but his breath caught and he gurgled as Al¡¯Ruzan squeezed.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: This is the full squeeze of a D-ranked Duelist. Any one of you would have had your neck snapped at half this pressure. This liar claims to be a Traveler, yet has the physique of a Duelist.

    </blockquote>

    Terry felt the blood pooling behind his eyes, the dark tunneling in from the sides. He had been blindly clawing at Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s hands in panic, but knew that he had only seconds before he passed out.

    With a painful shout, he gripped one of Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s fingers and wrenched it back. It popped with a sickening crunch, dislocating at the bottom knuckle.

    The pressure relented as Al¡¯Ruzan released him. But rather than the pain or anger Terry expected, instead he had a pleased look on his face.

    He¡¯d been proved right¡­he thought.

    With a smug smile that bared his filed teeth, he turned to address the others. He was clearly crafting some triumphant message for the team, turning his back on Terry.

    The blood dripped down his neck. He swallowed the pooling saliva in his mouth, had to force it past a swollen throat.

    The anger burned hot, spitting inside of him like a bonfire. His mind went blank, his teeth grinding so hard his jaw hurt.

    Without conscious thought, his aura cut across space, slicing a portal into thin air.

    And through Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s dislocated finger.

    Blood fountained from the nub where his finger had been a moment before. His severed finger fell to the cave floor, lost in the dark. A shocked cry went up from Mara-Lin-Jaid, while the others almost seemed not to understand what had happened, their brains slow to process the blood spurting into the air.

    But Terry wasn¡¯t done. This bully had put his hands on him one too many times.

    He dashed forward¡ªnearly as fast as Al¡¯Ruzan had been¡ªand ripped a left hook into the giant¡¯s back, right where a human kidney would have been. He didn¡¯t stop to think about Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s reaction, wonder if he had done any damage.

    He moved on pure instinct, muscle memory from years with Whipvine taking over.

    A right hook cracked Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s jaw as he turned in surprise. A foot hooked behind his leg, timed perfectly with the off balance of his turn. Terry lifted at the same time as he shoved, knocking Al¡¯Ruzan to the ground with an explosive grunt.

    He stirred Master of Light, fighting through the pain in his aura, and blinded Al¡¯Ruzan.

    As the giant clawed at his face, trying to dislodge whatever was blinding him, Terry cracked him with a straight left, then a right.

    Then, he really started kicking Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s ass.

 B2 - Chapter 25: Bringer of Fire

    Despite the advantage of Terry¡¯s first strike, Al¡¯Ruzan was clearly well trained.

    As Terry rained down blows on the blinded giant, Al¡¯Ruzan got his guard up, absorbing the next couple strikes on his forearms. When one of Terry¡¯s punches connected, Al¡¯Ruzan used the timing to slip the next shot, causing him to overextend. Al¡¯Ruzan blindly reached up and snagged his vicious talons on Terry¡¯s shirt. As he tried to pull him in close, the cloth ripped and Terry stumbled back a step.

    Al¡¯Ruzan was on his feet with a desperate scramble, his arms swiping forward with deadly speed.

    The others cried out and backed away from the flailing giant, crowding to the back of the cave as Al¡¯Ruzan stumbled forward.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid tried yelling to get their attention, then sent System messages demanding they stop. But the die was cast and Terry knew that someone of Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s upbringing wouldn¡¯t surrender unless in the face of overwhelming force.

    So that¡¯s what he did.

    With a burst of speed, he shot forward, ducking under Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s wild swings. His fist smashed into the giant¡¯s gut and he was pleased to hear the explosive grunt from Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s mouth at the impact. Without missing a beat, he launched an uppercut from under Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s guard, snapping his head back with a crunching sound.

    Al¡¯Ruzan fought through the pain and surprise, reaching down to bear hug Terry. If the giant alien got a grip on him, he was dead.

    He activated his trump card, dropping Master of Light and switching his focus to Metal Telekinesis. With a violent tug, he ripped backward on the metal beads intertwined in Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s braids, yanking the giant¡¯s head back and throwing him off balance.

    And right over the leg Terry had extended behind him.

    He toppled backward¡ªa far fall for someone so large. While he fell, Terry switched his target, pulling on the metal he sensed from across the cave.

    Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s knife flew from Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s belt right into his waiting hand. A moment later, he had it pressed to the giant¡¯s throat. Al¡¯Ruzan went suddenly still.

    A silence blanketed the cave, only Terry¡¯s ragged breaths echoing out.

    A part of him¡ªa small part¡ªurged him to press down, put his weight into the blade and take this piece off the board once and for all.

    Whipvine¡¯s words played in his mind.

    Machiavelli said, ¡®Men ought either to be well treated or crushed¡­that one does not stand in fear of revenge.¡¯

    As he looked into Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s yellow eyes, he couldn¡¯t help but feel in his gut that this was an enemy who would seek revenge.

    And yet, his body wouldn¡¯t lean forward, wouldn¡¯t shove the blade into his enemy¡¯s throat. Though that voice inside him whispered to do it, crush Al¡¯Ruzan entirely, the other voice spoke in his mother¡¯s tone.

    The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury.

    Turn the other cheek.

    An eye for an eye would leave the whole world blind.

    And the list of platitudes went on and on¡ªbecause that¡¯s what they were, platitudes. Turning the other cheek wasn¡¯t an option against a creature bred for fighting. The moment he lifted his blade from Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s neck and offered his hand, the Duelist would go for his throat¡ªhe just felt the truth of that, deep in his bones.

    His eyes flicked toward the others crowding together in the back of the cave.

    They were scared, yes, but he spotted something in their eyes¡ªtheir fear was directed at him. And more than the others, Mara-Lin-Jaid had a desperate, wild-eyed look as her eyes cut to the blade, then back to him.

    He saw it then, clear as day; killing Al¡¯Ruzan in cold blood after winning the fight handily would have ripple effects on the dynamic of the team. He realized how it must have looked to them. He¡¯d only been here for a few hours¡ªAl¡¯Ruzan had been providing their every meal for months. And on top of all of that, he¡¯d demonstrated the power of a Traveler, Duelist, and an Elementalist, all in one go. He knew as well as anyone that just wasn¡¯t possible.

    The fear of the unknown often trumped the fear of the hand clenched around your very throat.

    He couldn¡¯t do it. It galled him after all of that, but he just couldn¡¯t. Killing Al¡¯Ruzan while he was defenseless on the ground would alienate him from the group, creating a schism that he could never fully heal. Maybe in the heat of the fight, if they¡¯d been evenly matched, he would have been able to strike the killing blow and deal with the ramifications later.

    But not like this.

    That wasn¡¯t to say he would give Al¡¯Ruzan the chance to do the same to him. No, there was another quote of Whipvine¡¯s that felt particularly relevant.

    Build your opponent a golden bridge to retreat across.

    If he wasn¡¯t going to kill Al¡¯Ruzan, he¡¯d give him a way out.

    He kept his blade tight to the Duelist¡¯s throat and split his attention to his aura, coaxing the unfamiliar space apart with a thought. A portal cut across the air right next to them, eight feet tall, shimmering blue, burning across their eyes after the dim light of the cave.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Two choices, Al¡¯Ruzan. Take the portal on faith¡ªI don¡¯t know what lies on the other side. Perhaps death, perhaps a second chance.

    </blockquote>

    He pressed his body down on the knife, drawing blood from Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s neck.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Your second choice¡­certain death.

    </blockquote>

    He studied Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s face, waiting for the alien to choose. There was no doubt in Terry¡¯s heart, if the Duelist chose to fight, he¡¯d defend himself¡ªto the death.

    But he was hoping Al¡¯Ruzan was smarter than that, braver than that. A quick suicide at Terry¡¯s knife was the coward¡¯s way out. Jumping into the unknown might have seemed like fleeing, but the unknown was always more terrifying than the certain.

    A hand touched his shoulder and he would have known who it was even if her aura didn¡¯t give her away. He didn¡¯t even blink as a System notification appeared in his vision.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid has requested a private System chat. Accept?

    He allowed it to come through, not surprised in the least by her message.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Please, Terry. He never would have killed you. This was just how he was raised. We can teach him a different way.

    </blockquote>

    Terry watched Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s eyes flick toward Mara-Lin-Jaid. There was something in that gaze that he couldn¡¯t parse, some unreadable emotion that the adrenaline of the fight, of his blade held in limbo over a person¡¯s life, that prevented him from being able to analyze what passed between them.

    It was only after the fact¡ªin the long, cold hours alone¡ªthat he realized the emotion he had seen pass between them.

    Love.

    A sudden shove took him from the side¡ªnot overly strong, not even close to what a D-ranked Duelist should have been capable of performing, even prone on the ground.

    He stumbled, tripping over Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s body, falling headlong through his own portal with a strangled cry.

    The surprise, more than anything, kept him from reacting quickly enough. He fell pathetically into a bank of snow, his bare skin suddenly numb from the cold. The wind bit at him worse than any dire wolf, stabbing at his ears, his eyes, even the inside of his throat.

    His mind caught up in a flash, processing what had happened instinctively.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid shoved me!

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    He shot to his feet, fighting through the biting cold, and turned to face his portal. If Al¡¯Ruzan came through to finish him off, he¡¯d be ready. The knife in his hand felt like an extension of his own arm, calling to him, pleading to be used¡ªfinally.

    When Al¡¯Ruzan didn¡¯t shoot through the portal to attack, Terry flipped a mental switch, reconfiguring the portal to let the light from the other side pass through.

    The opaque blue portal shimmered, then revealed the view of the cave beyond.

    He could see them, but they couldn¡¯t see him.

    Al¡¯Ruzan was on his feet, staring after the portal with a conflicted expression¡ªpart rage, part confusion, as if he couldn¡¯t understand why Terry had spared him. Mara-Lin-Jaid was in between Al¡¯Ruzan and the portal, her hands pushing against his chest lightly. The Duelist could have easily brushed past her, but for some reason, was letting her stop him.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Please forgive me, Terry. You¡¯re a Traveler and a Duelist, so I know you can survive the cold until he calms down. Just¡­give him some time and we can coexist! I promise.

    </blockquote>

    She had sent the message privately, but Terry was feeling less than charitable towards the woman. While he activated Master of Light to confine his infrared heat and preserve his body temperature, he crafted his own message for the Team Chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Mara-Lin-Jaid has made her choice. Juan, Py, Chippy. I will find shelter. I will complete this Quest.

    And I WILL make it back home.

    If you want to come with me, send me private chats and I promise to portal you out as soon as I find somewhere safe.

    If not¡­well, good luck.

    </blockquote>

    He watched Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s faces for their reactions. Al¡¯Ruzan glanced toward the other three with a hint of threat that tempted Terry to just open up a return portal and finish what he started.

    On Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s face, he noted her check to make sure Al¡¯Ruzan wasn¡¯t watching, then looked toward the portal with a hopeful expression.

    He dropped the portal, finally taking in his surroundings for the first time.

    Well¡­shit. Now what?

    <hr>

    The first thing he did was catalog his available Affixations. He also noted that he still had an unspent Talent point from his Free Topeka Quest, but he tabled that for now; nothing it offered would fix the immediate problem of sheltering from the cold.

    Other than his portal, telekinesis, and light Skills, he also had his water and earth skills he¡¯d learned from his Feed Wichita team during their brief rebellious stint in Topeka. He hadn¡¯t learned anything from Vlad before his death¡ªa Stone-based Skill would have been really handy right about now. But he did have Alan¡¯s Draw Water, which was a D-grade Skill that when activated, allowed him to use his aura to find and direct water.

    He¡¯d been hoping to use it for whatever fuel Juan had squirreled away. If he could¡¯ve extracted the water and ice, it would¡¯ve been a lot easier for the Fire Elementalist to get it burning.

    As for the Earth-based Skills he¡¯d learned from Katie and Peter, they had been more about practicing his analysis abilities more than anything. Katie had let him copy a Skill that could find and shift nutrients in soil and loose earth. Peter had been more in tune with plants, so Terry had copied a Skill that let him sense plant life and manipulate their root structures through the ground.

    None of it had seemed particularly useful at the time¡ªnot in the way Metal Telekinesis had instantly elevated his offensive powerset¡ªbut now, he was thanking whatever gods were listening that he had bothered to learn them.

    The first thing he did was prepare his aura to Affix both the Draw Water and Manipulate Roots Skills. He wasn¡¯t willing to drop his portal or light Skill¡ªthey were too immediately relevant to his survival¡ªbut he needed to free up space for the other D-grade Skills.

    His third D-slot that he¡¯d received from completing his Feed Wichita Quest had been occupied with his D-grade Body Tempering Skill he¡¯d learned from Silver ages ago. That could be swapped for one of the other Skills.

    For the second Skill, he would lean on his Versatile talent. With that, he could use two E-slots for one D-grade Skill or mix and match two F-slots with a single E-slot to give him the necessary free aura.

    One E-slot was already empty¡ªthere was nothing valuable in his catalog other than Metal Telekinesis. Likewise for his F-slots, as his only useful Skill was Liquefy Metal. So he needed to drop Liquefy Metal to free up two F-slots and a single E-slot.

    He prepped the swap over, then accepted the prompts. His aura rippled as it rewrote itself, shifting Draw Water into his free D-slot, and swapping a single E and two F-slots for Manipulate Roots.

    After a few minutes, his aura finally settled into place and he took a heavy breath of relief. Then, he activated Draw Water and pulled all the surface water from his clothes, hair, and skin. It was a delicate process as he had to be careful not to pull the water from his own body and inadvertently dehydrate himself. But with a bit of meticulous aura control, he was finally dry with a couple minutes work.

    The next step was to find shelter. While Master of Light could theoretically keep his body in equilibrium for a long time, he needed to get out of this biting wind and start making a plan.

    He had meant what he¡¯d said¡ªhe was finishing this damned Quest.

    His aura extended into the earth, passing through multiple feet of snow before reaching the solid ground beneath. Manipulate Roots allowed him to feel the composition of the soil and stone wherever the roots touched. He had to dive deeper than anticipated but he eventually found a network of plants that intertwined beneath the surface. They felt hardy, naturally tough to exist in a desolate environment like the Underworld.

    He followed them with his aura, felt the intricate branching as the roots worked deeper, connected to other plants, slowly inching their way through the stone and soil.

    Time passed as he continued to follow the various networks and he eventually found what he had been looking for.

    A quarter mile or so away, he¡¯d found roots that had punched through the earth and now dangled in the air. There was a disorienting sensation, like face planting into a deep snow well, just your feet exposed to the air.

    He marked the location with his aura, then dropped the Manipulate Roots Skill and began reaching forward in space. It wasn¡¯t as practical to just search space for a large enough area to shelter¡ªthere was a lot of ground to cover and his aura projection wasn¡¯t up to that task just yet.

    But now that he¡¯d found it through the root network, it was trivial to locate it with his spatial senses.

    He ran his aura over the location, mapping out the space with his mind.

    It would do.

    With a flex of aura, he opened a portal to that location, feeling that there was no resistance from soil or stone. Sliding his head through, he began to survey his potential new home.

    The light from the portal lit up the space, showing him a roughly ten foot by twenty five foot natural cave formation. At the far end of the cave, it twisted out of view, possibly extending into an entire cavern system.

    Before he stepped through to his new home, there was some housekeeping to do. He reached out to the roots that extended above into what would be his new roof. They served as natural anchors, creating a decent structure to the loose soil above.

    But he could do better.

    With a thought, he began to shift their formation, forming a latticework of roots that reinforced the dirt above. He was no engineer by any means, but he could feel the surrounding soil pack tighter, shift less, as he changed the root structure.

    When he was fairly confident the cave roof wouldn¡¯t collapse on him, he stepped through the portal into his new shelter.

    The dirt roof was eight feet high, feeling slightly cramped but not so much that he had to duck. A soft drip, drip, drip echoed through the cave, creating an ominous backdrop to the wind moaning from somewhere deeper in the system.

    At least he wouldn¡¯t have to worry about suffocating in the shelter¡ªthere were obvious access points to the surface that were feeding the shifting wind throughout the cave.

    With the immediate concern of exposure on the surface dealt with, he began to work on his next priority. For months¡ªyears, even¡ªthe others had possessed no fire, forced to slow cook their meat with Juan¡¯s arrival.

    He meant to change that.

    Diving beneath his feet, he found more roots crisscrossing through the earth. With a pull, he shifted them up, watched them worm through the soil until they deposited themselves at his feet like offerings from Mother Earth herself.

    When he was done, he had a pile of gnarled brown roots resting on the soil, just waiting to be fuel for his fire.

    And now, for the easiest part.

    He reached up through the earth with his aura, extending to the surface, up through the storm and high into the sky. Once he had reached as far as his senses could go, he opened a small portal, drawing the exit at eye level in his cave.

    Diffused light passed through, illuminating the dim cave. With a flex of Master of Light, he refined the light, sharpening it until it became a focused beam shining onto the pile of roots. The beam intensified, helped along by his Skill, and the roots quickly began to smoke.

    Within a handful of seconds, a small spark burst forth, which caught on the surrounding roots. A flame flickered into life and Terry smiled.

    He¡¯d been ignoring the chats coming in, and specifically the Team Chat where the others were talking to each other and to him.

    But now, he crafted his own message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I told you all I was gonna finish this Quest. But first, I give you fire. Use it well, Juan.

    </blockquote>

    Then he cut a portal through space back to their camp, scooped up a handful of soil to shield his hands, then dug under the fire to pick up a burning root. Carefully, he shoved it through the portal, preserving the flame so that Juan could take charge.

    He dropped the portal a moment later and created a second pinhole portal to observe them in secret.

    The others were paralyzed by the sudden arrival of the embers, but not Juan. Finally reconnected with his element, he latched on with the desperation of a starving man who hadn¡¯t seen real food in weeks.

    Through the portal, Terry heard Juan shout excitedly. His aura snapped out like a viper, snatching the fire with a joyful exuberance. It danced toward him, flickering dimly as its fuel began to burn up.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Chippy! Get the timber we found! Hurry!

    </blockquote>

    Chippy squeaked in surprise, then raced to the back of the cave where Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s bed was. Terry watched as the rodent alien rooted through the giant¡¯s bed without a care in the world, coming up with a small piece of half-frozen wood a moment later.

    He waited to see if Al¡¯Ruzan would intercede, impose his dictatorship in Terry¡¯s absence, perhaps even quench the fire out of some misguided pettiness.

    He was both pleased and disappointed to see Al¡¯Ruzan simply stunned silent. A part of him¡ªa small part¡ªhad secretly hoped the giant would prove that Mara-Lin-Jaid had made the wrong choice.

    But for the most part, he was happy to see that Al¡¯Ruzan wasn¡¯t as bad as he had feared. With fire, they could warm up, cook their meat, and finally¡ªfinally¡ªstart thinking about working on this damned Quest.

    Juan took the small piece of frozen wood from Chippy and transferred the flame from the roots. There was a risk when igniting frozen wood that the steam from the melting ice would explode, but Juan was a Fire Elementalist; Terry assumed the man could handle it.

    As the fire began to bloom bright, Chippy, Py, and Juan danced happily around it¡ªfor once breaking the Al¡¯Ruzan imposed silence to cheer and whoop. As for the giant himself, he stared at the fire with a conflicted expression, his eyes lost in the flame.

    And Mara-Lin-Jaid¡­her eyes roamed the cavern, looking for something, it seemed. After a moment, she looked up, traced her gaze across the cave roof until she locked onto something.

    With a start, Terry realized she was looking directly at him.

    A private message came through.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Thank you, Terry.

    </blockquote>

    There were a lot of responses that popped into his head¡ªfuck you, being somewhere in the list. But his memory flashed back to that look in her eyes when he¡¯d been perched over Al¡¯Ruzan, his dagger prepared to bleed him out once and for all. The anger drained away, replaced with an ironclad surety that mending their team¡¯s relationship was the first step toward completing this Quest; there was a reason the Weaver had put him with these five people.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You¡¯re welcome, Mara-Lin-Jaid. Enjoy the warmth for now. But don¡¯t get complacent. We still have a Quest to complete.

    </blockquote>

 B2 - Chapter 26: The Heebie-Jeebies

    After the adrenaline of the fight, the biting cold of the surface, and the sudden exultation of the fire filling his cave, he had to wonder to himself¡­

    What now?

    What did the five of them do for months on end, unable to leave their cave, no games or even a shared language between them?

    He¡¯d had an idea in his head to make the others wait a week. Let the tension and anger between him and Al¡¯Ruzan drain away before he sought a truce. His initial instinct had been to whisk Juan, Chippy, and Py away immediately¡ªleave Mara-Lin-Jaid and Al¡¯Ruzan to their own devices.

    But after more than a minute of thought, he¡¯d realized that would be drawing the line in an irreconcilable way. The Quest was called Stronger Together and he had to imagine there was a reason the six of them had been stranded here.

    As much as it galled him, he made the decision to at least try to mend bridges.

    So¡­a week. He¡¯d leave them with Al¡¯Ruzan for a week just to let the giant know that he wasn¡¯t laying claim to anyone, that the six of them could work together to solve this damn Quest.

    Then, as he sat before his fire in utter silence, the thought of spending the next week completely alone began to really settle in.

    He felt a sudden urge to do something, anything. He walked to the edge of his new home, rounding the corner that was out of sight.

    His breath caught at the sight laid out before him.

    Stretching farther than he could even see, a vast chasm loomed before him. The edge of his cave abutted against a thin ledge that wrapped along the cliff wall, appearing to extend down into the chasm¡ªthough he lost sight after a few hundred feet. Purple crystalline structures lined the walls of the chasm and the ceiling above, providing a dim illumination wherever they perched, but not nearly enough to light up the chasm itself.

    An intense feeling of vertigo took him on the edge of that chasm and he stumbled back against his cave wall, peeking out from behind it to take in the sight once more.

    Movement flashed across one of the purple crystals¡ªfar into the distance, but unsettling regardless.

    He instantly retreated back into his cave, then realized just how bright his fire was. Yellow light lit up the entire space, burning bright against the dark of the chasm like a beacon shouting ¡®free meal here.¡¯

    He¡¯d never reached for Master of Light so fast. With a thought, he reflected all the light back inside the cave, letting none of it extend out into the large space beyond.

    The drain on his aura was slight, but constant. He could probably keep it going indefinitely¡ªif he didn¡¯t have to use any other Skills¡ªbut keeping it active while he slept was another thing entirely.

    Then he imagined actually sleeping in this cave by himself and a shiver traced up his back. Whatever he had seen crawling across that crystal in the distance had suddenly made his new home feel less than inviting.

    To distract himself, he sent Juan a message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You guys okay over there?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: We¡¯re good. Big Al¡¯s fuming by himself in the corner. Mara-Lin-Jaid gave him a scolding that sent him with his tail between his legs. Wouldn¡¯t surprise me if she actually told him to go sit in the corner and think about what he¡¯s done.

    </blockquote>

    Terry smiled at that, imagining the System chat browbeating of a seven-foot-tall warrior preordained to be royalty.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: And what about you? I mean, you fucked him up, bro. I never thought a D-ranker could do that to Big Al.

    </blockquote>

    He considered that for a moment. A part of him felt a bit smug at putting Al¡¯Ruzan down. But another part wondered if he hadn¡¯t revealed too much of his powerset in his arrogance.

    But at the end of the day, they¡¯d seen enough that he couldn¡¯t just play it off as some fluke. In their eyes, he was a Traveler and a Duelist¡ªat a bare minimum.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡­have a flexible powerset. And good teachers.

    </blockquote>

    A message rolled in from Py, surprising him.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: What an understatement! Portals, body tempering, AND whatever that was you did to his eyes!

    </blockquote>

    It took Terry a moment, but then he realized that Juan had been relaying their conversation to Py and Chippy. It must have been automatic for the man at this point. He didn¡¯t mind though¡ªthe other two had left just as good an impression on him as Juan and he didn¡¯t mind discussing this with the three of them.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Obvious manipulation of electromagnetic radiation. Blinded Al¡¯Ruzan during the fight. And your use of portals indicates the influence of a master¡ªand Presence Attributes approaching the Cs, if I¡¯m not mistaken.

    Then there¡¯s your Physical Attributes. Clearly in the D3 to D5 range.

    </blockquote>

    Terry read that message with a flush of surprise.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: How did you figure out my Attributes?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Was I accurate?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Eerily.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: It¡¯s one of Chippy¡¯s Savant Skills.

    </blockquote>

    An immediate need to learn that Skill from Chippy gripped him like a vise. But it was one thing them knowing he had a versatile skillset and entirely another revealing that he could copy their Skills at will.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That¡¯s fascinating.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Useless, you mean. All I¡¯m good for is skinning wolves.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Stop that talk, Chippy! You¡¯re also good for keeping Juan and me warm at night!

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    </blockquote>

    Terry frowned at that message, wondering if there was some subtext there or if he was reading into it.

    A moment later, Juan cleared up his confusion.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Chippy¡¯s people run hot, Terry. He has to eat more than you¡¯d think someone his size would need, but he¡¯s like our own personal space heater at night.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Oh, gotcha.

    </blockquote>

    He didn¡¯t think he was a prude, but something about the four-armed Py, the rodent-looking Chippy, and Juan in a weird alien threesome made his brain hurt.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Speaking of night¡­

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Yeah?

    </blockquote>

    He took a moment to formulate his words; though he was absolutely terrified of whatever had been crawling out in the large chasm, he¡¯d also sort of portrayed himself as a capable badass. Announcing his fear would definitely put a damper on his image.

    It surprised him to realize he cared, but he did.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Is it safe to sleep at night? I found a large cave and I¡¯m gonna need to get some shut eye at some point.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: We¡¯ve never been attacked inside our cave.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Not counting the thing that steals our food every couple of days, that is.

    </blockquote>

    That made him feel slightly better. The Underworld didn¡¯t exactly have a reputation as a vacation spot. But the five of them had survived for months¡ªyears, in Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s case¡ªand none of them were fighters other than the Duelist himself.

    Put at ease¡ªat least as much as he could be in a foreign realm¡ªhe began to pull more roots up from the soil in order to stockpile some fuel for the night. As he worked, he chatted idly with Py, Chippy, and Juan. They talked about home, speculated about their Quests, and the three of them even introduced him to their private made-up game. It was called Dire Wolf Hunt and involved two or more players trying to match their imaginary cards by strategically stealing the others¡¯. Since they didn¡¯t actually have playing cards, one of them had to be a referee and assigned the cards to each player.

    Terry had a sinking suspicion this was basically Go Fish and when he heard Juan had come up with it, his suspicion was all but confirmed.

    Crappy made up game or not, it was nice to chat with the three of them while he made his new home relatively comfortable.

    He changed his Affixations a couple of times as he liquefied his silver bracelet and formed a small palm-sized pot. Opening a portal to the surface, he grabbed some snow and melted it in his homemade pot, creating clean drinking water.

    Hunger began to gnaw at his belly and he eyed the mystery roots he¡¯d been using as fuel, but eventually decided that was a bad idea. Who knew if it was digestible to humans or not?

    He was tempted to snag some of the now-cooking dire wolf meat from the others, but his pride wouldn¡¯t let him break the impasse between him and Al¡¯Ruzan¡ªnot yet. And stealing the food from under his nose would only add fuel to the fire¡ªeven if he had every right to the meat as the rest of them.

    No, he could wait a night, he decided.

    Hours later, his portal to the surface revealed that it was still bright outside¡ªpast the whiteout of the blizzard, at least¡ªbut his biological clock told him that it was well into the night back on Earth.

    As much as he didn¡¯t want to, sleep beckoned.

    He toyed with the idea of snuffing his fire before bed. He had never learned to tie off his Master of Light Skill, so it would drop when he went to sleep, revealing the glow of the fire to whatever lay outside his cave.

    But the flipside of that was that he was also containing his body heat with Master of Light and if he put out the fire and let his Skill drop in sleep, he¡¯d very likely freeze to death in the night.

    So there really was no other option¡ªhe had to keep the fire going through the night. Just to be safe, he shifted the soil using his Manipulate Roots Skill and created a hole that extended three or four feet down and about five-by-five feet across.

    He moved his fire down into the hole, then shifted his bed of roots he had boiled earlier beside the fire. He hoped that the hole would hide the light of the fire enough so that no curious critters would come looking.

    As he lay down on the softened roots, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of uncomfortable familiarity; the hole was eerily similar to the grave he¡¯d crawled into for his Awakening.

    He pushed those thoughts aside, staring into the small fire near his head. His eyes felt heavy, but he forced them open, watching the fire flicker and pop. Every time they¡¯d drift shut, he blinked them open, checked his surroundings, then stared back at the fire.

    He fought sleep as long as he could, but his eyes seemed to grow heavier and heavier with every blink.

    He didn¡¯t know when it happened, but at some point, he sank into sleep.

    <hr>

    In his dreams, he heard his mother¡¯s voice.

    She sang a low lullaby, soothing him, making him feel safe. Her hand rubbed at his back and he melted into that touch.

    A part of him was embarrassed to have his mother putting him to bed; he was nearly fifteen. He¡¯d faced off against draugrs, vampires¡ªa seven-foot tall alien Duelist.

    Al¡¯Ruzan!

    Thoughts of the Duelist brought him back to the present. He suddenly realized how cold he was and resolved to open his eyes, or at least get his Master of Light Skill going to preserve his body heat.

    But as he reached for his aura, something felt off. It was slow to respond, moving glacially as he tried to stir it into the right shape. Panic gripped him and he tried to open his eyes and sit up.

    His lids were gummed shut, his muscles barely responding.

    He might have chalked it up to the cold¡ªhe was suffering from hypothermia that was paralyzing his muscles.

    But then why did his aura feel so sluggish too?

    He fought against the resistance, reaching for the Skill that was the easiest for him to summon. It didn¡¯t matter what or where, he just needed it to work, needed to feel that his magic wasn¡¯t broken.

    A portal ripped through the space near his head. Bright light streamed in from high above the surface, illuminating the hole that looked like a grave.

    Shrieking cries rang up as the light entered. His heart clenched at the sound, the realization that he wasn¡¯t alone causing a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.

    Fighting past the numbness gripping his body, he managed to pull his eyelids open¡ªand wished he hadn¡¯t.

    Swarming over him were so many foot-long insects that he couldn¡¯t see his skin under their bodies. They appeared to be centipede-like bugs with far too many legs and black, chitinous bodies.

    The horror that washed over him lent his aura strength.

    With a strangled cry, he cut through space faster and more forcibly than ever before. The portal whisked him away, depositing him on hard rock with an impact his numb skin didn¡¯t feel.

    ¡°Terry!¡±

    Juan¡¯s voice cut through the terror, followed a moment later by Chippy¡¯s loud squeaks.

    He tried to speak¡ªno, tried to shout¡ªbut his tongue felt thick, the words coming out slow, lazy, garbled.

    ¡°Gitthemoff,¡± he slurred.

    He didn¡¯t feel the hands that did it through his numb skin, but he saw the black insects flying through the air; saw all five of them stomping them with boots and bare feet; heard the crunch of their exoskeletons; witnessed the green ichor splashing across the cave floor.

    The terrifying display went on for minutes as they turned him over, only to discover more nibbling at his back and legs. The way their feet stomped, their cries of disgust and panicked gasps, created a bizarre tableau that was like some twisted interpretive dance.

    He couldn¡¯t help it, as they stomped, found more, and stomped again, he moaned in fear¡ªand relief.

    The words please, please, please, were followed by just as terrified thank you, thank you, thank yous¡ªnone of them sensical through his swollen throat.

    When the stomping stopped and the others reclined in ichor-splashed exhaustion, Terry finally found the wherewithal to send a System chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Holy shit, thank you so much!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: That¡¯s gonna haunt my nightmares for a long, LONG time.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Are you okay, Terry?

    </blockquote>

    His limbs were still numb, his aura sluggish to respond. But he could breathe, he could see, and if need be, he could teleport away.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: No¡­but I will be.

    </blockquote>

    His eyes traced over the others, found Al¡¯Ruzan. To his surprise, there was just as much disgust¡ªand hidden fear¡ªin the giant¡¯s eyes as there was in the others. It seemed even warrior aliens weren¡¯t immune to a case of the heebie-jeebies.

    With the immediate threat taken care of, it seemed like everyone in the cave remembered the tension in the group at the same time. Mara-Lin-Jaid watched Al¡¯Ruzan discreetly from the corner of her eye, Py Dar angled away from the giant¡ªChippy right behind her¡ªwhile Juan appeared to be cupping a small ember behind his back.

    That filled his heart with a sudden burst of camaraderie, but he sent Juan a message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Don¡¯t do anything rash, Juan. I can teleport away if it comes to it.

    </blockquote>

    They locked eyes, and he could feel the indecision in Juan¡¯s posture. He shook his head slightly and he saw the man chew his inner cheek.

    The tension continued to grow and Terry turned his eyes toward Al¡¯Ruzan in question. The Duelist matched his gaze, neither saying anything. Then, Al¡¯Ruzan took a step forward and a hush came over the cave.

    A message came in that seemed to surprise them all.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Juan, Py, you can put him in my bed while he recovers.

    </blockquote>

    Before anyone could respond, Al¡¯Ruzan trekked to the edge of the cave and crouched alone, turning his back to the rest of them as he stared out past the fur door hanging by the entrance.

    Juan and Py shared a confused look, then came over and picked Terry up on either side. They carried him to the back of the cave, laying him gently down on Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s bed. As they laid the furs over him, he was suddenly struck by just how cold he was.

    As the numbing agent of the insects dissipated, the shivers took hold. Juan tucked in the edges of the furs, said something that Terry missed, and without realizing it, he was asleep in moments.

    When he awoke, it was dark, only the flickering embers that Juan was magically maintaining lighting up a small corner on the far side of the cave.

    He saw the movement at the same time he felt the proximity of an aura. Without even looking, he knew it was Al¡¯Ruzan standing over him.

    A part of him thought to cry out, portal away, portal through Al¡¯Ruzan and end the threat. But he realized that the Duelist wasn¡¯t attacking or trying to smother him in his sleep. He was simply standing there, watching Terry.

    He seemed to recognize that Terry had awoken; a System chat came in a moment later.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Why didn¡¯t you kill me? Was it honor or fear?

    </blockquote>

 B2 - Chapter 27: The Hunt

    Why didn¡¯t I kill you?

    The question caught him so off guard, he had to repress a humorous snort.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I won. It was over. What would killing you have accomplished?

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan read the message, and even with his alien features, Terry could see he was displeased. He turned away without another word and Terry found himself wondering about the question.

    Honor or cowardice?

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You want to know the real reason?

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan turned back, his eyes reflecting the soft embers of Juan¡¯s fire.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Of course. Why else would I ask?

    </blockquote>

    Terry nodded and was relieved to find his body responding¡ªalthough sluggishly. He shifted, pulling an elbow under him to prop himself up.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: The truth is¡­I was scared. Not of you, but of me. What I would become.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan didn¡¯t move¡ªdidn¡¯t even blink¡ªhis eyes studying Terry as he formulated his thought.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯ve never killed another person before.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s head rose, his lips pressing tight over his tusks in an expression Terry didn¡¯t have the context to recognize. A great breath seemed to leave the Duelist, as if a weight had slipped off his shoulders.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I see. You are unblooded. A failure in your upbringing.

    </blockquote>

    He turned away, then glanced back over his shoulder.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I have a feeling that is a failure you shall rectify before your time in this realm is up.

    </blockquote>

    As he stepped back toward the cave entrance and resumed his crouched vigil, Terry found Mara-Lin-Jaid watching him from her bed, her dark skin making her nearly invisible inside her furs. Only the whites of her eyes shone through.

    He was thinking of something pithy to say, some joke that might have defused the tension between them. But before he could find something of suitable wit, the whites of her eyes flicked away as she settled her head back on her bed.

    When he looked away, the only thing he could see other than Juan¡¯s embers was Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s back as he stared out onto the frozen wasteland.

    For some reason, that comforted him and he drifted back into darkness.

    <hr>

    Nearly a week passed while Terry recovered.

    It was the most boring week of his life.

    After the fiftieth game of bootleg Go Fish, he wanted to shout until his throat was hoarse. The only thing that kept him mildly sane was that Big Al had eased up on his vow of silence shtick, allowing Juan and Terry to speak in English whenever they wanted.

    Allowed, because Terry was still weak from whatever numbing agent the alien insects had infected him with. For most of the week, Al¡¯Ruzan could have knocked him over with a single finger. Not that Terry was defenseless, but he also didn¡¯t want to portal Al¡¯Ruzan in half just when they were starting to understand each other.

    Still, tensions were escalating. While the others had initially bombarded him with questions, relishing in having someone new to chat with, that eventually gave way to a general malaise that seemed to be the team¡¯s baseline.

    Even Py and Chippy got into a System chat scuffle that eventually turned verbal. Chippy¡¯s squeaks and Py¡¯s sing-song language clashed so brashly that even Terry began to understand the appeal of a silent cave.

    That was when Terry learned to appreciate Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s people management skills. She always seemed to know the exact thing to say or the perfect gesture to defuse an argument. A subtle hand on the shoulder or a seemingly incongruous query about someone¡¯s parents that deflected the negative energy at just the right moment.

    In this particular case, she cut through Chippy and Py¡¯s argument with a single, simple sentence.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: It¡¯s time to hunt, Al¡¯Ruzan.

    </blockquote>

    At first, Terry furrowed his brow at the statement. Why did Al¡¯Ruzan need to be told to hunt? They¡¯d scarfed down that single dire wolf leg days ago. Why hadn¡¯t he gone out to hunt earlier?

    But as he read the reactions among the team, the pieces fell into place with a practically audible click.

    It was a vision. She wasn¡¯t stating simple, obvious fact, but prophecy. If she had kept silent for another week, Terry wasn¡¯t entirely convinced they wouldn¡¯t have let Chippy starve to death.

    The spirits in the cave immediately lifted. Chippy chirped happily while Py clutched her four hands in a complicated gesture that he had learned was synonymous with prayer hands back on Earth. Juan literally licked his lips in anticipation and Al¡¯Ruzan stretched his limbs like a tiger set free to roam the reserve.

    As for Terry, he also found himself filled with anticipation.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯m going with him.

    </blockquote>

    Unlike the others, he could survive outside the cave and now that he was mostly recovered, it was time to start scouting out the surroundings.

    This Quest wasn¡¯t going to complete itself.

    The tension came back with a vengeance, revealed in the concealed looks from Py and Chippy toward Al¡¯Ruzan, Juan¡¯s jaw clenching tight, and the sudden straightening of Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s posture.

    Only Mara-Lin-Jaid remained composed at his words.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Yes.

    </blockquote>

    He was surprised at the declarative nature of her response, as if it were her idea all along. That was her game, he realized. She played the prophet to keep them all in line. Perhaps she did it because she felt it was necessary. Who was he to judge?

    As long as she didn¡¯t try to stop him, he wouldn¡¯t complain.

    Al¡¯Ruzan relaxed slightly after her endorsement, but Terry couldn¡¯t miss the appraising glances the giant was sending his way.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Keep up.

    </blockquote>

    Then he was past the fur covering and out of the cave. Terry hesitated, glancing between the others for a surprised moment before bursting to his feet. He gripped the fur he¡¯d been using as a blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders, checked that the Singularity cube was secure in his pocket, then followed Al¡¯Ruzan out of the cave.

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Terry had learned that the blizzard that raged outside their cave never relented, only ebbed and flowed. Some days, it stormed so bad they had been forced to huddle for warmth, while other days, the visibility actually extended out more than a dozen feet.

    Today was a relatively calm day and the whiteout only blocked his vision after about thirty feet. But the sun seemed to reflect off the snow with malicious intent, blinding him as he pushed the fur covering back.

    He activated Master of Light to conserve his heat and dim the reflected light to a manageable level. Blinking away the blindness, he looked around and found no sign of Al¡¯Ruzan. A glance down showed footprints fading quickly from the swirling snow and he started following them.

    The wind was biting, trying to steal his warmth past his fur cloak and Master of Light. The snow stabbed at his face, flakes sneaking through his eyelashes to blind him. His tennis shoes soaked through in moments and he nearly lost his footing with every step.

    For the briefest moment, the thought of turning back and huddling in the relative dryness of the cave infected him. No one asked him to go out on a hunt, no one expected him to keep up with Al¡¯Ruzan regardless of the outcome of their fight. And though he knew he¡¯d have to leave eventually to start getting to the bottom of this Quest, no one was pushing him out the door to figure it out.

    The thought was insidious and he squashed it immediately.

    Pride pushed him out the door. He expected himself to keep up with Al¡¯Ruzan. He demanded that he get off his ass and be self sufficient. He refused to be dependent on Al¡¯Ruzan for food or knowledge of the world outside their cave.

    So he pushed through the snow, tracked Al¡¯Ruzan through his footprints¡ªand when those began to fade, he tracked the infrared light left behind by those footprints.

    A minute turned into ten and he was on autopilot by that point; one foot in front of the other. The trail left by Al¡¯Ruzan was fading but he knew he could always portal back to the cave if he found himself lost. That wasn¡¯t his concern.

    What concerned him was the feeling of being useless, of not contributing, of never leading them from beyond that damned cave.

    His pace picked up, the trail grew stronger. In the distance, he saw and felt Al¡¯Ruzan crouched behind a snowbank¡ªhis aura and heat signature lighting up in Terry¡¯s senses.

    As he approached, Al¡¯Ruzan sent him a message.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Stay down.

    </blockquote>

    Terry bent his knees awkwardly as he approached, his legs sinking into the snow up to mid shin. Just to be safe, he twisted the light around him to make himself nearly invisible to the naked eye, keeping only his face free so he could see.

    When he stopped at Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s side, the Duelist eyed him up and down with a peculiar expression. Terry realized how he must have looked with only his face visible.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I¡¯ve picked up a trail. There¡¯s a small pack that dens nearby. I suspect it¡¯s one of theirs.

    </blockquote>

    Despite Terry¡¯s magical advantages, he was grateful Al¡¯Ruzan was here. He didn¡¯t know the first thing about tracking or hunting. He kept his reply purposefully simple to avoid revealing his ignorance.

    He didn¡¯t need Al¡¯Ruzan realizing just how reliant he was on the Duelist¡¯s hunting skills.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯ll follow your lead.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan took off without another word, loping through the loose snow like he was born to it.

    Terry sprinted awkwardly after him with a desperate speed, feeling like a fish out of water.

    They ran like that for another few minutes before Al¡¯Ruzan slowed by a snowbank that rose ten feet high. He held out a hand to stop Terry and crawled up the snowbank alone. Peering his head over the small hill, he seemed to be watching something on the other side.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What do you see?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: There¡¯s too many. We must find another trail.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan slid silently down the snowbank and past Terry without another word.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That¡¯s it? How many, exactly?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Too many.

    </blockquote>

    He continued walking, which annoyed Terry. Rather than follow blindly, he began climbing up the steep snowbank. It was tiring work and far less graceful than Al¡¯Ruzan had made it look, but he was nearing the top when another message came in.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Don¡¯t be foolish! If they catch your scent, we¡¯ll have to run for our lives!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: No we won¡¯t. I can portal us away anytime, remember?

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan didn¡¯t reply. Terry crested the top of the snowy hill and glanced down at what the Duelist had seen.

    Eight large dire wolves were tearing apart some creature he didn¡¯t recognize. The creature was massive, twice as large as a polar bear, covered in white fur matted with crimson stains. The pack of dire wolves were ravenous, as if worried there wouldn¡¯t be enough left after their siblings were through.

    Terry felt movement at his side and glanced over to see Al¡¯Ruzan crouched next to him. They shared a look¡ªAl¡¯Ruzan¡¯s yellow eyes appraising Terry, while Terry shrugged as casually as he could manage while watching a pack of alien wolves at dinner.

    A terrible groaning sound echoed out through the howling wind and Terry¡¯s eyes snapped back to the giant polar bear thing. Its head lifted up halfheartedly, then collapsed back to the snow. That only seemed to excite the dire wolves, who tore into it with greater abandon.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: It¡¯s still alive!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Yes.

    </blockquote>

    Terry stared at that casual message in shock.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Shouldn¡¯t we put it out of its misery? They¡¯re eating it alive!

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan gave him a second, sharper look.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: That is the way of the wild. The weak suffer the whims of the strong. I wonder what your world must be like for you to be so naive.

    </blockquote>

    For a moment, Terry was blinded by anger. My world is civilized! he nearly responded. But that statement rang false. On Earth, the strong ruled and that was the simple truth. But there was ruling and then there was just plain cruelty.

    Still, he understood Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s point. And that giant polar bear looking animal didn¡¯t exactly look all cute and cuddly; those were killing claws and meat-eating fangs after all. But predator or not, the terrible sounds coming from the dying animal grated on his ears.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I can teleport the wolves away and we can put the animal out of its misery. And that much meat? Could last us weeks.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: The monster would never let us keep it.

    </blockquote>

    [Terry]: Who says it has to know? I¡¯ll portal what we need into the cave, stash the rest underground somewhere.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: With those insects that attacked you?

    </blockquote>

    Terry shivered at the memory.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Somewhere else.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan studied the feasting wolves for a moment, a thoughtful expression behind his eyes.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: We¡¯ll still have to give it its due. It will know if we do not.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Fine with me. Let¡¯s clear out these wolves and get to work.

    </blockquote>

    He surveyed the frozen wasteland around them. Even when the constant blizzard didn¡¯t hamper visibility, there were almost no land markers to judge distance or location. He¡¯d have to do it by feel.

    Reaching for space, he found a spot roughly a quarter mile away¡ªin the opposite direction of their cave. Then, he felt for the wolves with his senses, feeling them more as displacements in space than anything else.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Here goes nothing.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan pulled his dagger free and adopted a fighting stance.

    No faith, Terry thought.

    Then he parted space, pulling the three closest wolves through portals before they registered what was happening. The others¡¯ heads shot up, their eyes surveying their surroundings, the hair on their spines standing upright.

    He portaled three more before they took a single step.

    The final two somehow zeroed in on their location with a snap of their heads. Without a moment¡¯s hesitation, they began loping up the snow bank toward them. An idea came to Terry and he decided to improvise.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯m gonna leave one of them for us. The monster would be suspicious if we brought back that giant bear thing.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan shot him a harried look, rising to his full height to stare down at the racing wolves. Terry snapped open a portal before the closer of the two, sending it off with an undignified yelp as it realized midair what was happening.

    Leaving a single dire wolf sprinting toward them with its jaw open wide. Terry expected Al¡¯Ruzan to feint, perhaps slash at its underbelly after a mistimed leap¡ªanything except what happened next.

    The giant Duelist let out a bestial roar that Terry felt in his chest, then threw himself physically through the air to meet the wolf mid-jump. They clashed with a deep thud that only several hundred pounds of muscle could make and began tumbling down the snow bank.

    Surprise and panic filled him as he realized just how reckless Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s approach was. The two of them were rolling down the hill in a death clutch and Terry had a tough time differentiating which was beast and which was a person.

    They crashed to the bottom in a heap, Al¡¯Ruzan laying on top. His arm pistoned up and down into the wolf¡¯s gut, splashing crimson upon the snow.

    Terry raced down the hill, a sick feeling in his stomach at the gory display.

    When he reached the two of them, Al¡¯Ruzan shot up to his feet, a mixture of intestines and blood drenching his clothes. He began barking in Terry¡¯s face and for a moment his irrational brain thought Al¡¯Ruzan was in the midst of some feral bloodlust.

    Then, the System message came in a moment later and he realized that the giant was just super pissed.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: What in the Twelve was that! You risked everything and for what!

    </blockquote>

    Terry backed away, his hands held up between them.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I assumed you could handle one dire wolf, Al¡¯Ruzan! You¡¯ve been killing them for years!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Yes. With planning! Traps! Only a fool wrestles a dire wolf by choice!

    </blockquote>

    He bit his lip at the giant¡¯s words, realizing that he might have messed up with his improvisation.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That¡¯s my mistake for making assumptions. Are you injured?

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s yellow eyes bore into him, clearly wanting to lay into him some more. After a moment though, the rage drained away. He looked down at his blood-soaked clothes and snorted derisively.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: It isn¡¯t mine.

    </blockquote>

    He turned to retrieve his dagger from the wolf¡¯s body.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: But you owe me a new set of clothes.

    </blockquote>

    Terry chuckled lightly, nodding as Al¡¯Ruzan stood.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That¡¯s fair. Again, sorry about that. I shouldn¡¯t have improvised without talking to you first.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan wiped his blade on the wolf¡¯s fur, then turned back with a widemouthed expression that could have been a smile or a threat.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: No need to apologize.

    </blockquote>

    The giant leaned in until they were face to face.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: But you¡¯re wrestling the next one.

    </blockquote>

 B2 - Chapter 28: The Monster

    With some quick discussion over Team chat, they stored the bear thing¡¯s remains back in Terry¡¯s abandoned cave and portaled Juan there to keep the insects from stealing their food. He kept the portal open between the two caves upon request¡ªJuan didn¡¯t want to be trapped in the insect cave, understandably.

    Now that the bulk of their meal was stored, Al¡¯Ruzan and Terry began the arduous task of dragging the dead dire wolf back to the cave.

    Terry volunteered for the bloody job, which Al¡¯Ruzan thought was more than fair.

    He regretted offering within minutes, his tennis shoes slipping and sliding along the snow as he dragged the heavy wolf. But his pride wouldn¡¯t let him ask for help, so he just tripped and stumbled his way back to the cave, casting Al¡¯Ruzan dark looks by the end of it.

    When they pushed past the fur-covered entrance, the others celebrated with quiet cheers that quickly turned into surprised gasps as they spotted the blood soaking Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s clothes.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: What happened? Are you hurt?

    </blockquote>

    What? No vision? Terry grumbled to himself as he deposited the bloody corpse at the edge of the cave.

    Al¡¯Ruzan handed over his knife to Chippy, who dutifully began skinning the bloody corpse.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Ask him.

    </blockquote>

    The giant began stripping off his blood-soaked clothes, revealing strange musculature and blue-green skin beneath. Scars traced along his torso, some shallow, while many were deep. Terry couldn¡¯t help but wonder what kind of upbringing would leave someone so young so scarred.

    When he turned his gaze from Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s scarred flesh, he found the others eyeing him expectantly.

    He coughed awkwardly into his fist.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: A miscommunication on my part. But as you can see, everyone¡¯s fine.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan chuffed to himself and began squeezing the blood and snow from his clothes.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Let me help with that.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan looked at him in surprise, then handed them over. Terry activated his Draw Water Skill and pulled the moisture from the clothes. He wasn¡¯t sure if the blood would pull free or simply dehydrate, but whatever happened, it was better than its current state by a long shot.

    The blood ended up dehydrating, clear water pulling away as the red turned to flakes. With a couple of hard smacks, most of the bloody flakes fell away. He handed back a mostly-clean shirt to Al¡¯Ruzan.

    The Duelist eyed the dry shirt, then Terry with an appraising look. Before he could ask any awkward questions, Terry sent a Team chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: How long until the monster shows up?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Usually five, ten minutes.

    </blockquote>

    Terry got the impression Juan was less than enthused to be by himself¡ªportal or not.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay, I¡¯d like to get a look at this thing. I¡¯m going to portal outside and find a place to hide.

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid shared a wide-eyed look.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Don¡¯t. It¡¯s not worth it.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: You¡¯ll invite more punishment on our heads.

    </blockquote>

    Terry suppressed the annoyed sigh threatening to burst free.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: How do you expect to ever complete this Quest if we let this thing hold us captive? You all have the same Quest as me. Maybe that¡¯s what it meant¡ªwe¡¯re stronger together, strong enough to take this thing head on.

    </blockquote>

    Mara-Lin-Jaid and Al¡¯Ruzan looked at each other with guarded expressions. Terry got the impression they were having a private chat. Chippy and Py watched the two of them with tense expressions, wondering if there might be another fight.

    Juan sent him a message.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: What¡¯s happening, bro? Everyone went mute at the same time.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: The Queen and King are conferring with each other.

    </blockquote>

    It was a bit of an uncharitable statement, but the two of them had ruled over the others as if they were the preordained leaders¡ªAl¡¯Ruzan with his strength, Mara-Lin-Jaid with her visions. He didn¡¯t like it, but he was also trying to turn over a new leaf with the two of them, so he forced himself to patiently wait for them to come to some decision.

    He didn¡¯t promise he¡¯d agree, but he¡¯d at least listen.

    Almost on cue, the two of them turned toward Terry.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Okay, if you think you can remain hidden, then do so.

    </blockquote>

    She took on a stern expression, like a mother scolding a child¡ªwhich pissed Terry off.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: But only observe. That thing moves faster than either of you and is definitely stronger.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Got it.

    </blockquote>

    He cut through space a moment later, appearing out in the blizzard a hundred feet behind the cave. Master of Light hid his visible and infrared light, leaving only a small window for his eyes. As he approached the cave from the rear, he looked for a spot in the white wasteland to get a good vantage.

    The cave they resided in was a natural rock formation that slightly rose up from the ground, creating a bit of an elevated rock outcropping. If he perched on the top, directly over the cave entrance, he¡¯d be able to see anything coming even with the terrible visibility of the storm.

    As he moved into position, he reviewed his Talent point options that he¡¯d been sitting on since he¡¯d completed his Free Topeka Quest. He¡¯d wanted to hold off until he¡¯d got his bearings here and now seemed like the perfect opportunity. The first time he¡¯d been awarded a Talent point, he¡¯d selected Mask Signature. Focusing on the free point, he saw that Mask Signature branched out into two mutually exclusive options, while the other two options he¡¯d had last time were still present as well¡ªCondense Aura, which gave him a slot at his rank minus one, and Quick Shift, which reduced Affixation time by half.

    The new options branching from Mask Signature were as follows:

    Talent Upgrade: Mask Signature

    Enhances Mask Signature to reduce the user¡¯s aura significantly. The user will appear mundane to most aura senses and be nearly impossible to detect at the user¡¯s rank and lower.

    Prerequisite: Mask Signature

    ---

    Talent: New Skill ¡ª Project Aura Signature (D)

    Receive a new Skill: Project Aura Signature.

    Prerequisite: Mask Signature

    ---

    Skill: Project Aura Signature (D)

    The user can create a close copy of their own aura and project it a limited distance.

    Both of those options seemed immediately useful. He¡¯d found through experience that his Mask Signature Talent excelled at making him appear weaker than he was and even let him hide from enemies. Receiving an enhanced version of that same Talent in conjunction with Master of Light would make him practically invisible to his enemies.

    But the new Skill seemed even more versatile as he considered the implications. When he¡¯d raided the sanguine back in Wichita, he¡¯d projected an image of himself using his portals and Master of Light. If he added in this new Skill, his simulacrums would be nearly indistinguishable from the real thing.

    Then there was the immediate benefit of projecting his aura inside the cave. If this monster was aura sensitive, it might realize that there were only four people inside the cave when there should be six.

    That thought made him worry about Juan, so he sent the man a quick message to return to the cave while he considered his two choices.

    He felt that both were solid options, but the immediacy of faking his aura inside the cave eventually made the decision for him. With a thought, he selected the new Skill and Affixed it to his aura in place of Root Manipulation.

    While the process completed, he scanned the surrounding wasteland for any sort of movement. The blizzard continued to obscure his view, but he could at least see the cave entrance below and the surrounding thirty or so feet.

    With a quick message to the team so they weren¡¯t startled, he activated his new Project Aura Signature Skill. He was able to place it with a similar sensation to when he worked with space, so it came naturally after a few seconds of practice.

    A ripple in the air signaled the Skill was completed and he felt the sixth signature join the others a moment later. It felt odd to sense his own signature apart from himself; it was like an alien entity inhabiting his aura.

    But there was no time to dwell on that odd sensation, the monster would be there any minute. As he studied the surrounding area, he had to wonder how it could arrive so quickly or know that they¡¯d brought back a kill. Was it tracking their auras¡ªwhich would be bad considering Terry had only just rectified the aura discrepancy¡ªor was it watching them from the snow?

    He wasn¡¯t sure which thought creeped him out more.

    He tried not to think about it as he waited, the wind biting at his skin, the snow melting in his shoes, the thought of cooked dire wolf making his mouth water. Thankfully, the monster didn¡¯t keep them waiting long.

    It seemed to rise from the snow outside their cave like a spirit. For the briefest moment, Terry imagined it was a draugr that had been haunting his party and his stomach clenched at the memory. But if it was a draugr, Terry was confident they could handle it¡ªdraugrs were the stuff of normie Terry¡¯s nightmares, not the current him.

    But it only took a cursory glance to realize that the monster was no draugr. It had white fur that blended into the snow and its aura was nothing like a draugr¡¯s¡ªat least, not any draugr he¡¯d ever met.

    The remains of the dire wolf Al¡¯Ruzan had killed was thrown out of the cave¡ªminus one leg¡ªand the monster bent to retrieve it. As it moved, Terry confirmed that it was definitely bipedal in nature and it gripped the dire wolf corpse in two fur-covered hands.

    The closest thing he could think of was a yeti, but he¡¯d only seen them in sims and had never heard any stories of them being real.

    Whatever it was, it moved fast. In seconds, it was nearing the edge of his visibility and he had to scramble down the side of the cave to keep it in sight.

    A part of him considered leaving it at that¡ªhe¡¯d caught a glimpse and satisfied his curiosity. But he knew instinctively that wouldn¡¯t be enough; he wanted to follow it.

    Thankfully, the dire wolf continued to leak blood from the stab wounds and the missing leg, so it was easy enough for Terry to follow the trail even if the monster itself was lost in the storm.

    He moved around the cave entrance and saw the others staring after him with a mixture of expressions.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯m gonna follow its trail, see if it has a den nearby.

    </blockquote>

    A flurry of messages came in reply¡ªMara-Lin-Jaid scolding him, Al¡¯Ruzan calling him a fool, Juan telling him to be careful¡ªbut he didn¡¯t send an answer back.

    He wasn¡¯t going to pick a fight with the thing, just do some recon. And he was the best one to do it with his reduced aura signature and his Master of Light Skill.

    The messages slowed as he followed the trail. Splatters of blood led in a straight line away from the cave and he didn¡¯t have to look hard.

    He guessed they¡¯d traveled a mile or so before he spotted the small opening in the snow. It looked less like a cave and more like a fissure in the earth.

    The blood trail led directly into it.

    He eyed the fissure for a moment, torn with indecision. His gut told him to return to the others, figure out a game plan together¡ªas the Quest said, they would be stronger as a team. Another part of him urged him to sneak into the fissure¡ªor at least catch a glimpse inside. Perhaps it was a cave like theirs, or maybe it was an entrance into the vast underground cave system he¡¯d discovered last week.

    In the end, common sense won out and he resolved to return to the cave. He felt through space, reaching through to the cave with his senses. As he began to pull space apart, movement out of the corner of his eye caused his head to whip around.

    A flash of white smashed into his head and then everything turned black.

    <hr>

    When he came to, his thoughts were sluggish and refused to form a coherent idea. He was warm, he realized; comfortable, even. He luxuriated in that feeling for a moment, sinking into the furs wrapped around him.

    His eyes snapped open and he went to sit up in a rush.

    Pain stabbed into his head and behind his eyes, sending a wave of dizziness crashing through his body that nearly made him throw up.

    He reluctantly let his head fall back onto the soft fur, instead feeling around with his aura. Instantly, he registered another presence nearby and sucked in a quick breath. On pure instinct, he reached out through space and searched for an escape. All around him, he felt the dense nature of rock and knew if he tried to portal nearby, he¡¯d find himself crushed in the earth. He didn¡¯t know how Travel worked when a portal was forced open into pure rock and he wasn¡¯t about to find out today.

    Sending his senses higher, he reached for the open air of the surface. Before he found it, that second presence moved.

    Pulling his aura back, he prepared to defend himself. As the aura moved toward him, he scanned around with his eyes and saw the monster approaching from his side. Without a second thought, he began to split space through the monster¡ªbisect him the way he¡¯d done to Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s finger.

    Space refused to part.

    The monster had rejected his aura with its own, the way Marlon had implied was possible, but Terry had never tested.

    With a desperate flex of intent, he reached for his Liquefy Metal Skill to shape his silver bracelet into blades¡ªonly to realize that he¡¯d dropped the Skill in favor of Draw Water and Manipulate Roots.

    All he had were silver ball bearings on his wrist.

    With a spike of pain behind his eyes and his head swimming, the only thing he could do was try to escape. He reached out once more to find the surface, when the monster came into full view.

    His mouth gaped open and he dropped all control of his aura in shock.

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­human¡­¡±

 B2 - Chapter 29: Lord of Ice

    The man regarded him with a single raised brow. A large animal pelt rest across his shoulders and hooded over his head, the upper jaw of one of the polar bear looking animals across his forehead.

    He understood now why they¡¯d all thought the man was a monster. Only Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid had seen him up close and they¡¯d obviously been scared for their life at the time.

    Without a single word, the man rose to his full height and slipped the fur cloak off his shoulders, laying it on a peg jutting from the nearby wall.

    At first glance, he¡¯d thought the monster had been almost eight feet tall. But seeing him without his cloak, he realized that the animal head had added nearly a foot in height.

    Still, the man was massive for a human¡ªas large as Al¡¯Ruzan, which was saying something.

    As he watched him clearly get comfortable inside his own home, Terry wondered what in the Underworld he was doing.

    Get outta here, dummy. Figure out this mystery later.

    He began reaching with his aura, searching for the surface to step through space, when his eyes caught on something in the man¡¯s hands.

    ¡°Hey, give that back!¡±

    As much as he tried to inject an aura of command in his voice, it still managed to sound more petulant than anything.

    Either way, the man ignored him, turning the Aura Filtering Container that held the Singularity with open curiosity.

    He tried to stand, but another wave of dizziness took him. He must have been concussed to try and physically take the device back from the man who had beat Al¡¯Ruzan so soundly. Coming to his senses finally, he reached across the space separating them and wrapped a portal around the cube. At the same time, he found the surface and prepared to teleport.

    But as his portal encompassed the cube, it enveloped the man¡¯s hand too. No matter how he tried to separate the cube from the man, he found unyielding resistance.

    His portal back to the surface coalesced, but he hesitated. Did he leave the cube and live to fight another day? Or pull out all the stops and force the man to part with it?

    Instinct drew him toward the portal¡ªhe could always sneak back in and take the cube. Or, the six of them¡ªas a team¡ªcould storm this cave and take it by force.

    But as he considered fleeing, he couldn¡¯t help but note the severe lack of urgency in the man¡¯s expression or body language. He simply held the cube¡ªstill inside the portal¡ªand watched Terry, as if waiting to see what he decided.

    Terry had the sudden realization that he couldn¡¯t take the cube back, even if he did surprise or ambush the man. He¡¯d been too preoccupied¡ªor too concussed¡ªto register the man¡¯s aura at first. But now that he¡¯d taken a moment to breathe, he realized that this was the aura of an A-ranker.

    The rational side of him was screaming to cut his losses and run. There would be time to game plan and retrieve the Singularity at some point. But something deep inside of him felt at ease in the man¡¯s presence. There was no hint of anger or aggression in his posture or aura. He wasn¡¯t giving back the cube but he also wasn¡¯t forcing Terry to stick around either.

    That, more than anything, convinced him to stay.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked, dropping the portal engulfing the man¡¯s hand. ¡°Why have you been terrorizing my friends?¡±

    The man raised a single eyebrow. Terry realized that just because he was human, didn¡¯t mean he was from Earth.

    ¡°Sorry, do you speak English?¡±

    He ignored Terry, turning away and placing the cube in a pocket. Rather than press the issue, Terry took the moment to examine his surroundings closer.

    The cave they were in had all the markings of a long-term dwelling. Shelves were cut into the rock walls, adorned with various trinkets that were shaped of bone, wood, and metal. There was a bowl and a plate to one side with a pitcher beside them. On the other side of the cave, a fire burned bright in a hearth, the smoke rising through a flue that extended up into the ceiling.

    One of the dire wolf¡¯s legs was positioned over that fire on a spit and the man moved to rotate it silently. The remainder of the dire wolf lay to the side in the dirt.

    Terry stared at the man¡¯s broad back, wondering how to navigate this awkward situation. While the man wasn¡¯t being hostile, he had knocked Terry unconscious and dragged him into his home.

    A bevy of questions flashed in his mind. Why did you kidnap me? Why have you been taking our food? Who are you?

    But for some reason, he suspected those questions would all be met with silence.

    He took the time to look at the messages that had rolled in while he was unconscious. There was an obvious panic among the others and they were now speculating about his death in the Team chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Hey, I¡¯m alive!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Terry! Thank God!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chippy]: What happened?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Where are you?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Can you get away?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: What were you thinking!

    </blockquote>

    The messages came in a loose jumble, each speaking over the other as they tried to get answers from him. As he watched the man turn the spit, he couldn¡¯t help but feel dissatisfied¡ªhe didn¡¯t yet have the answers to give.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯m fine. The monster isn¡¯t actually a monster. He¡¯s human it seems. And other than kidnapping me, he doesn¡¯t seem to be hostile. I¡¯m going to see if I can¡¯t get some answers.

    </blockquote>

    The messages that followed were all over the map. Mara-Lin-Jaid scolded him for being a reckless idiot and demanded he come back. Al¡¯Ruzan told him to be on guard and not underestimate the enemy. Juan was still hung up on the fact that the monster they¡¯d been so terrified of was actually human. Py and Chippy simply expressed concern.

    But there was an air to the man that suggested he wouldn¡¯t attack. Which made his kidnapping all the more confusing.

    ¡°Why did you knock me out?¡± Terry asked. ¡°And why didn¡¯t you just leave me out there to die?¡±

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    The man didn¡¯t respond, but Terry saw his ears twitch almost imperceptibly. Had that been understanding or an instinctual reaction to Terry¡¯s voice?

    Before he could think to ask more questions, the man pulled the spit off the fire and placed it on a table carved directly into the stone wall. Then he moved to the dire wolf corpse.

    Terry watched in confusion as the man gripped one leg and began dragging it toward the cave exit. He turned a corner and was out of sight in moments. A part of him considered just leaving but the man had the Singularity. He warred within himself for a few moments, then shot to his feet and followed after him.

    He was surprised to see that the exit didn¡¯t lead to the surface but instead out to a tunnel leading in either direction. The tunnel was dark, only the fire behind him casting any light. But he was able to spot the man¡¯s back and hear the corpse dragging behind him down the right-hand tunnel.

    Following behind, he sped up in order to catch the man. This was still alien territory and if his run in with those insects from last week had taught him anything, it was that he didn¡¯t know what lay in wait beneath the surface. He¡¯d rather stick close to his kidnapper than be left alone in the pitch black tunnels.

    As he approached from behind, the man cast him a disinterested look as he marched forward. Then, he stopped and held out the dire wolf¡¯s limb.

    ¡°If you¡¯re gonna follow, make yourself useful.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mouth gaped open at the words, his eyes flicking to the outstretched hand, then back to the man¡¯s face. It took him a few brain-addled moments before his mouth caught up to his thoughts.

    ¡°You-you speak English?¡±

    The man looked pointedly down at the wolf leg he was handing over. Terry reacted out of a desperate need to glean more information from the man; he grasped the dire wolf¡¯s ankle and looked up expectantly.

    The man turned away and continued walking, Terry following behind with the dragging corpse.

    ¡°Yes, I speak English.¡±

    The man¡¯s voice had a dusky quality to it, as if the words were long buried relics he¡¯d had to dig up.

    Terry waited expectantly for the follow up response, but the man seemed content to simply walk in silence.

    ¡°You really gonna just leave it at that? No answers on why you kidnapped me. No questions on why I¡¯m here? Nothing?¡±

    The man didn¡¯t respond for another few moments and Terry felt his impatience begin to boil inside of him. But just as he was about to press him for more, the man stopped and turned toward Terry.

    ¡°My answer is the same as your answer.¡± He held out the Singularity cube. ¡°This is why I brought you back and this is why you¡¯re in this realm at all.¡± Turning away, he tucked the cube back into a pocket. ¡°Now stay quiet. We¡¯re entering their territory.¡±

    Terry bristled at the command, then processed the man¡¯s words.

    Territory? Whose territory? he wondered.

    But he had his answer soon enough.

    The tunnel opened up into a long cavern that stretched into the distance. To either side, doorways were embedded in regular intervals, carved directly into the stone.

    And turning to watch the two of them, were dozens of ghouls.

    Terry stopped at the mouth of the tunnel, dumbstruck by the sudden attention they were receiving and the revelation that this was a ghoulish city. The ghouls watching them were unlike those of Wichita; they wore ivory jewelery, belts with tools or weapons, and he even spotted one ghoul working at a forge.

    The man didn¡¯t wait for Terry to process the moment. He stepped forward, passing through the center of the city without hesitation. Terry, standing alone and holding onto the dire wolf, hurried to catch up.

    As they strode forward, the ghouls on either side continued to study them and Terry was fascinated to feel the aura bouncing around the cavern. Entire conversations were being had in silence¡ªcuriosity at his presence, trepidation at the man Terry followed, and celebration at the sight of the dire wolf.

    That was when he realized the meat the man had been taking from Al¡¯Ruzan wasn¡¯t for him, but for these ghouls.

    Tribute or charity?

    As they walked, he saw a large bas relief carved into the far wall. The figures it depicted were hard to decipher but they surrounded a large double doorway that was guarded by two ghouls wielding ivory spears.

    He itched to ask the man about that¡ªhe¡¯d never seen a ghoul use a weapon other than their bone-claws¡ªbut the double doors creaked open and the moment passed.

    Two robed liches came into view, flanking a giant ghoul wearing a bone-white torc around his neck. Back home, he knew that the ghoul leaders wore golden torcs, and he wondered at the cultural differences between Crunch¡¯s people and these ghouls.

    The elite ghoul and his two liches strode down a set of stone stairs, meeting them at the bottom. The ghoul moved with a lithe grace and deadly ease that made Terry¡¯s hair rise on the back of his neck. His aura was palpable as they approached and Terry guessed that the ghoul was roughly on par strength-wise with the mysterious man at his side.

    Aura shifted between the group, the liches, ghoul leader, and the man bending their auras into familiar greeting shapes. For a moment, Terry considered revealing his understanding and shaping his own greeting, but decided against it; the man hadn¡¯t been forthcoming in the slightest, so why should he?

    The man spoke to the three undead in very capable ghoulish, blending aura and the spoken tongue in a way that suggested he had been here for quite some time.

    Terry translated the words and aura in his head.

    ¡°Another offering to the Bloodsplatter Clan,¡± the man said, indicating the dire wolf corpse with a hand.

    Inside, Terry gasped; this was the Clan they¡¯d been tasked to help.

    ¡°Very generous, Lord of Ice,¡± the lich on the left replied. ¡°How can the Bloodsplatter Clan repay you?¡±

    Terry felt the ghoul leader¡¯s eyes¡ªand aura¡ªland on him, and he looked up to meet his gaze. Everything about the ghoul reminded him of the golden-torc ghoul back home; his human-like eyes, powerful limbs, and stifling aura. He felt the appraising regard and returned a respectful, but uncowed look back.

    ¡°Your grace and hospitality for me and the other outsiders is payment enough,¡± the man¡ªLord of Ice, apparently¡ªreplied. He began to say something else, but the ghoul¡¯s aura shifted in a way that cut him off.

    ¡°And this one?¡±

    Judging from the aura and the narrowed look toward Terry, he guessed the ghoul was referring to him.

    The man waved a hand dismissively.

    ¡°The newest outsider to join the others. He¡¯s weak and not useful for much¡ªbesides carrying meat.¡± The man shifted his aura to indicate he¡¯d been making an idle joke, but the ghoul never took his pinning gaze from Terry¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°He seems unconcerned for someone new to our world.¡± The ghoul stepped forward and Terry felt his heart skip a beat. ¡°Give me the offering, outsider.¡±

    He had to stop himself from instinctively handing the corpse over, instead turning to the man with a confused expression.

    ¡°Give it to him,¡± he replied curtly in English.

    Terry affected a churlish tone to distract from his near slip up, grumbling under his breath as he reached forward to hand off the wolf. ¡°Would a please kill you?¡±

    The ghoul¡¯s hand stretched out, slick red skin brushing against Terry¡¯s fingers as he took the corpse. He hefted the hundreds of pounds of meat effortlessly, depositing it beside him.

    ¡°Our new spawnling is ravenous.¡± The ghoul flicked his eyes toward the man. ¡°Extra meat would go far toward our continued friendship.¡±

    Terry cut his gaze up, reading the man¡¯s reaction at the sudden turn of events. The disinterested shrug he gave in response did little to put Terry at ease.

    ¡°Fine by me.¡±

    The ghoul tilted his head with a predatory gaze and Terry felt his stomach flip. He prepared a portal¡ªclose, anything to get him out of this spider¡¯s web.

    A wave of aura splashed out, bouncing between the man and the undead. In his panic, he didn¡¯t immediately translate the emotions, completing his portal with a flex of intent. But as space parted, he realized what had just passed between them and he groaned.

    They¡¯d been laughing at him.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t tell me you understood ghoulish,¡± the man said in English.

    Terry, sensing that he was in no danger, let the portal drop.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t been exactly forthcoming yourself,¡± he replied. He switched to ghoulish. ¡°And nobody asked.¡±

    The ghoul leader¡¯s eyes twinkled and Terry felt a wave of respect from the liches at his side.

    ¡°Odd dialect,¡± one lich said.

    ¡°One of the southern clans, perhaps?¡± the other added.

    ¡°He just arrived?¡± the ghoul asked.

    Terry looked up to see the man studying him with renewed interest. He stayed silent for a few moments before turning back to the ghoul.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Where did you learn our language?¡± the first lich asked softly.

    Terry glanced between the four of them, his mind racing. Was there any reason to lie? The man still hadn¡¯t revealed anything of himself. Who knew how he¡¯d feel about Wichita or my grandfather?

    He decided to fish for more information before revealing too much.

    ¡°Where I come from,¡± he replied in ghoulish, ¡°it¡¯s polite to introduce yourself first. I was led to believe it¡¯s the same among the undead.¡±

    A ripple of surprise shifted among the liches and their ghoul leader, then quickly turned to humor.

    ¡°You are correct,¡± the ghoul said. His aura shaped itself, spearing forward. Terry saw a brief impression of a blood-coated blade stabbing just as the ghoul¡¯s aura had.

    Crimson Spear? he guessed. His translation felt right but before he could ask, the two liches offered their names through their aura.

    The one who had spoken first elicited images of the sun flashing on snow, which he roughly translated as Snow Glare. The second lich¡¯s aura made him think of roots burying deep past the soil and Terry dubbed him Deep Root.

    Then, to Terry¡¯s surprise, the man offered his own aura-shaped name.

    A blizzard raged in his mind, sleet and ice ripping through the air, cutting everything in its path. And at the center of the storm, calm reined. There, the man stood casually, his arms raised as if orchestrating the blizzard itself.

    He started to translate the images, then a realization short-circuited his thoughts.

    ¡°You¡¯re the one causing the snow storm on the surface!¡±

    The man didn¡¯t react, his face remaining placid.

    ¡°Where I come from,¡± the man said evenly, ¡°it¡¯s polite to introduce yourself first.¡±

    Any other time, Terry might have been annoyed to have his own words thrown back at him. But all he could think about were the implications of this man being the cause of the storm that had kept the others isolated in their cave for so many months.

    The man raised an eyebrow expectantly and Terry tabled those thoughts.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a ghoulish name,¡± he admitted. ¡°But my name is Terry.¡±

    The man seemed to mull that over for a moment before coming to a decision.

    ¡°You can call me Ben.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 30: The Song of Offering

    Crimson Spear watched their interaction with interest, his aura flicking out, trying to catch the nuance between their English words, only to find their auras inert.

    Rows of jagged teeth stared down at Terry, his annoyance obvious at not being able to parse their English.

    The elite ghoul¡¯s powerful voice cut through the air, pulling Terry¡¯s eyes from those killing teeth, back to the leader¡¯s gaze.

    ¡°No ghoulish name? You know our shapes well enough but your teachers never named you?¡±

    Terry felt a flush of embarrassment. He¡¯d never referred to Crunch, Burg, or Blood by their ghoulish names and they had always called him ¡®My Prince.¡¯

    The realization that he¡¯d never asked for a native ghoulish name hit him; he had no one else to blame but himself.

    He hesitated, wondering how much to reveal. ¡°No¡­they called me by my¡ª¡± He almost said title. ¡°¡ªby my human name.¡±

    Crimson Spear narrowed his eyes, perhaps picking up on the omission, but one of the liches¡ªDeep Root¡ªspoke before Terry could feel the tension of that gaze.

    ¡°Worry not, young one. With the Lord of Ice as your master, you¡¯ll surely earn a name in short order.¡±

    Master? He considered correcting the lich, telling them they¡¯d just met. But before he could make a decision, a notification appeared.

    Ben has requested a System chat. Accept?

    He risked a glance toward the man who returned the look casually, his expression in no way revealing he¡¯d just silently sent a chat request.

    Terry accepted, both curious and confused.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: Go with it, kid. If they think I¡¯m your master, they¡¯re less likely to eat you.

    </blockquote>

    He stared at those words in shock. Eat me! He hadn¡¯t realized that was a possibility, but it opened his eyes to something.

    Crimson Spear was tall, his limbs lithe and undoubtedly powerful. But Terry compared him to his memory of the golden-torc ghoul back in Wichita. After a quick glance, there was no denying it: this ghoul was thinner, his flesh slightly emaciated in comparison.

    He replayed their walk through the Bloodsplatter Clan¡¯s home¡ªthe ghouls standing in surprise and excitement as he dragged the dire wolf corpse through the main area.

    The ghoul clan was starving¡ªand Terry was as appetizing a meal as any young dire wolf.

    Thinking quickly, Terry inclined his head toward Ben.

    ¡°Yes, the Lord of Ice has been a fine master in the short time I¡¯ve been here.¡±

    An unseen tension released, Crimson Spear relaxing his gaze to look down upon the dire wolf at Terry¡¯s feet.

    ¡°Let us go, then. The spawnling is ravenous.¡±

    Without another word, the ghoul and his lich entourage turned and started back up the steps. Terry shared a confused glance with Ben, who flicked his eyes toward the undead.

    He sighed, picking up the bloody haunch and starting after them.

    Ben walked slightly ahead of him, his aura ranging around them subtly. Terry risked probing glances with his aura in an attempt to glean more information from the man; he¡¯d been slightly disappointed to see his System name had been simply: Ben.

    He¡¯d been hoping for a last name or a super name.

    Ben glanced over, realizing Terry was studying him.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: You were wrong earlier.

    </blockquote>

    The message surprised him so much, it took him another few steps up the stairs before he could process it.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: About what?

    </blockquote>

    Crimson Spear reached the large double doors and entered, followed shortly by the two liches.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: I¡¯m not the cause of the storm.

    </blockquote>

    The storm? Terry followed Ben to the doors, mulling that statement over. I¡¯m not the cause of the storm? Did the man mean he wasn¡¯t creating the blizzard on the surface?

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: With a name like Lord of Ice, I just assumed.

    </blockquote>

    Ben nodded, hesitating at the doorway.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: They call me that because I¡¯m the one taming the storm. I keep it subdued enough to allow for hunts.

    </blockquote>

    Terry¡¯s eyes went wide.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That¡¯s tamed!?

    </blockquote>

    Ben indicated the door with a nod and Terry started. Stepping forward, he dragged the wolf corpse over the threshold and into the dark tunnel behind it. With his Master of Light Skill, he was able to pierce the dark just enough to see Crimson Spear¡¯s back as he turned a corner.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: When the Bloodsplatter Clan were first exiled to the surface, only their leader could survive the storm. But his presence is necessary here. My powers allow the lesser ghouls to hunt, though their success is intermittent.

    </blockquote>

    He frowned at that. The ghouls he knew were more than a match for a single dire wolf. A pack of ghouls should easily tear through that pack of dire wolves they¡¯d found earlier today.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I don¡¯t understand.

    </blockquote>

    They reached the corner where the undead had turned and found themselves in a small cave. There was nothing in the space except a glowing green crystal that cast some scant illumination.

    And¡­a small pool of black tar just big enough for Terry to lay down in.

    Suddenly, everything clicked into place. The weakened state of Crimson Spear and his people, the reliance upon Ben for supplemental food, the Bloodsplatter Clan¡¯s exile to the surface, and the pool of black tar that could only accommodate a single person¡­or ghoul.

    His thoughts flashed back to his memory of the Evolution Chamber in Wichita. A black pebble beach abutting a pool of tar that stretched farther than he could see. Space for a thousand ghouls to lay side-by-side and never feel cramped.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    But for the Bloodsplatter Clan, a pool clearly no bigger than a single ghoul.

    The black tar bubbled, reminding him of when he and Crunch had released those seven dead ghouls into the Wichitan version of this pool. The tar had bubbled then, too, only settling once the ghoul corpses had slipped under the surface.

    Deep Root¡¯s sibilant voice cut across Terry¡¯s thoughts.

    ¡°Bring forth the offering, young one.¡±

    He dragged the corpse forward, hyper aware of Crimson Spear¡¯s presence right beside him. An irrational image played in his head¡ªthe ghoul leader rocking forward, his powerful hand shoving Terry into the pit along with the dire wolf.

    But he pushed through that fear, bringing the corpse to the edge of the black tar.

    Crimson Spear did reach forward and Terry had to suppress a flinch, but the ghoul simply grabbed the wolf limb, lifting it up and tearing away a single leg before dropping the corpse.

    A hiss rose up from the two liches, their auras stirring the air around them. A moment later, Crimson Spear joined them, his deep voice harmonizing as he held up the dire wolf leg.

    The aura began to shift, eliciting a familiar feeling deep in his chest. He remembered that song in the Evolution Chamber¡ªthe Song of Well-Earned Rest, Hoping Tree had called it.

    As he listened to this song build, intermingle with their aura, he felt the subtle differences that separated it from that song.

    An image flashed in his mind¡ªa young boy going out on his first hunt, tracking the signs of his prey. An exultant feeling settled deep in his chest as the boy brought down his first kill, carried it back to his people.

    The aura ramped up a degree and Terry was startled to feel Ben joining in at his side. It was similar to the aura shifting around the undead, but with his own touch. Though the impressions were slightly different, they seemed to synergize in a way Terry couldn¡¯t quantify.

    He turned his attention to the images evoked by Ben¡¯s aura. A boy worked side-by-side with an older man, his attention rapt as the man taught him some unknown craft. The emotions were palpable, the pride in the man, the adoration in the boy.

    It continued to build, swirling through the small cave with enough force he could practically feel it on his skin, taste it on his tongue. A sudden urge took him and he began to stir his own aura.

    The first few moments were awkward, his aura stilted in comparison to the experts around him. But he felt Ben¡¯s aura connect with his, giving slight pushes as if to adjust the flow. He followed that guidance, feeling a sort of harmony begin to form.

    He didn¡¯t know when it happened, but he realized that their auras were now indistinguishable, and he could feel Ben¡¯s emotions as if they were his own. He was surprised to feel a bone-deep sadness there, but also a hope. The subjects were inscrutable, but the emotions were undeniable.

    Before he could peel back those layers, Ben guided their aura and Terry felt theirs brush against that of the undead. At first, the two aura storms battered each other, neither finding harmony. But he felt them shift their frequency, each making accommodations for the other, a subtle dance of give and take that eventually found synchronicity.

    Terry was a leaf in this storm now, pulled along by something bigger than himself, unable to pull free even if he wanted to.

    But he didn¡¯t want to.

    The sensations, the emotions, the images, infected him with a heady dizziness that seemed to separate his ego from his body. He was one with Crimson Spear, Deep Root, Snow Glare¡­

    He was one with Ben.

    A lifetime of disappointment, of failure, of loneliness, crowded that connection and Terry couldn¡¯t tell if those were his feelings or Ben¡¯s.

    Before he could make that distinction, he felt Deep Root¡¯s emotions take center stage. Longing, powerful enough to make his chest ache. A yearning for a return, a return to power, glory, responsibility¡ªnot for him, but for the clan.

    Snow Glare¡¯s aura felt similar. There was a gaping chasm in his ego, a need to provide and shepherd his people that he felt he was failing at. The two of them were like opposite sides of the same coin, their needs and wants complementing each other to create a greater whole.

    Then, he shifted his focus to Crimson Spear¡¯s and was whipped away from conscious thought by the power of the ghoul¡¯s emotions. There was a burning need, an unbelievably powerful desire to return his people to their rightful home. Terry felt the fading sense of glory Crimson Spear had once embodied. One of the leaders of the most important ghoul clan, the pride of his people, now scrounging for scraps, reliant upon outsiders simply to survive.

    The heartache, the loss of pride, stabbed at Terry like a knife.

    He was still processing those emotions, waiting for the aura storm to drift apart and for each of them to separate back into their individual wholes, when his own aura was whipped into the forefront.

    It felt like his ego had been snatched up from his grip and bared whole before the world.

    He saw himself from the outside looking in, a distance stretching before him as he regarded his own motivations and emotions.

    The first thing he noticed was his desperate need to live up to his family¡¯s legacy. He wanted more than anything to make his father proud, his mother proud¡ªeven his grandfather, Necroton, despite his flaws, pulled on Terry¡¯s ego.

    He wanted to make them proud¡ªbut more than that, he wanted to surpass them. He wanted to be stronger than them, more famous than them, considered more good than them.

    The naked ambition shocked him.

    There was no time to reconcile that undeniable need with his own thoughts¡ªhe was pulled into the next emotion without mercy.

    Need, again. But this need had a different flavor. It was just as desperate, just as powerful, but it wasn¡¯t centered on him. Rather, he felt a bone-deep need to help others, give hope to the hopeless, protect the weak¡­bring light to a bleak world.

    Images flashed in his mind¡ªWichita flaring to life as his portals returned the sun. Handing out food to the street kids whose bones poked through their skin. Slicing portals through space as he ushered the defenseless Market natives through, the S-rankers fighting a desperate fight above them.

    The aura dimmed without him realizing, the air going silent even though no sound had been made. He felt its passage dip down, into the pool of black tar, infusing it with those raw emotions, those private desires.

    When the aura was nearly still, Crimson Spear leaned forward and slipped the dire wolf leg into the black. The bubbling on the surface calmed, the leg dipping out of sight as something seemed to snag it.

    Terry¡¯s eyes were locked on that pool, but his thoughts felt disconnected from his body, the emotions distant even as his aura decoupled from the others.

    He realized Ben was gently pulling him away from the pool and he shook himself awake.

    ¡°Let¡¯s leave the spawnling to his meal.¡±

    Terry nodded, though he found his mind still in a fugue, his thoughts processing the emotions he¡¯d felt rather than the words Ben had said.

    They came to a stop around the bend, standing in the dark as the undead joined them.

    ¡°You did well, young one,¡± Deep Root said in ghoulish.

    ¡°Yes,¡± hissed Snow Glare. ¡°The Song of Offering can be overwhelming, but your aura is powerful.¡±

    Terry turned to them, so many questions on his lips, but Crimson Spear stepped forward and he bit his tongue.

    ¡°You¡¯ve sung with our people before?¡± the ghoul asked.

    ¡°Not exactly.¡± He hesitated, but realized there was no use trying to lie or hide the fact. ¡°I was present during the Song of Well-Earned Rest once¡­¡±

    He trailed off as the liches shared a look and a quick flash of aura that he didn¡¯t catch.

    ¡°You interest me,¡± Crimson Spear growled. ¡°I should like to¡ª¡±

    The ghoul cut off at a sudden burst of aura from the two liches. There was a message there, one punctuated by panic, though Terry couldn¡¯t grasp the full meaning.

    Crimson Spear whirled on Ben.

    ¡°A raid. Will you assist?¡±

    Terry looked up to see Ben¡¯s eyes widen for the briefest moment before his expression turned resolute.

    ¡°You need not ask.¡±

    Without another word, Crimson Spear darted through the tunnel, Ben on his heels. Terry hesitated a moment, but the liches began to move¡ªslower, but still with urgency¡ªso he followed them out into the main cavern of the clan.

    Crimson Spear¡¯s powerful voice echoed out in ghoulish, a warning that stilled the cave. Then, the ghouls burst into motion, grabbing weapons and darting off. The two liches followed after Crimson Spear, but Ben stopped at the large double doors leading to the small Evolution Chamber.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Terry asked.

    Ben¡¯s eyes scanned the cave as he answered.

    ¡°Sanguine raid.¡±

    Terry¡¯s heart flipped, the hairs on the back of his neck rising.

    ¡°Sanguine? But why would the vampires attack the ghouls?¡±

    Something in Terry¡¯s tone must have clued Ben in, because he glanced toward Terry in question.

    ¡°You know the sanguine?¡±

    Terry nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve fought them. Killed one of their leaders back on Earth with silver and sunlight.¡±

    Ben¡¯s eyes narrowed, studying Terry as if looking for some hint of a lie. Terry returned a steady gaze.

    After a moment of scrutiny, Ben snorted.

    ¡°Now that¡¯s a story I¡¯ll need to hear when this is all said and done.¡±

    Terry shrugged. ¡°Yeah, soon as you tell me your story.¡±

    Ben took on a wry smile, quickly hidden. ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± he replied with guarded tone.

    Before Terry could give a witty reply, movement flashed high up on the cave ceiling.

    ¡°Up there!¡± he shouted.

    But then he saw more movement to the left and right as familiar creatures began crawling from tunnel entrances on either side.

    There are too many, he realized. A hundred, two hundred, more, began streaming through the open tunnels, up the walls, outnumbering the ghouls five-to-one.

    Crimson Spear suddenly moved, an ivory spear that he hadn¡¯t possessed earlier now in his hands. He moved as fast as any A-ranked Duelist, carving through a handful of sanguine in a blink.

    But they swarmed around him, heading for the regular ghouls¡ªwho suddenly seemed so frail and weak in comparison to the ghouls of Wichita.

    Despite appearances, the ghouls were much faster and stronger than the sanguine, their weapons and bone-claws tearing through the fragile vampires wherever they clashed.

    Then, Terry noticed dozens of the creatures crawling over the ceiling in their direction.

    ¡°They¡¯re going for the pool.¡± Ben¡¯s aura began to stir and the temperature dropped noticeably in the blink of an eye.

    Why would they go for the pool? he wanted to ask. But there were only seconds before the sanguine were upon them.

    ¡°Can I bring my friends? They can help!¡±

    Ben¡¯s eyes flicked toward Terry for the briefest moment, indecision clear on his face. The first sanguine launched itself toward Ben and an icicle materialized in thin air, spearing the creature in the face.

    ¡°Do it!¡± Ben shouted.

    Terry immediately began reaching through space, searching for that waypoint he¡¯d marked in his mind. As he stretched his aura, he sent a Team message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Guys, we¡¯re under attack. I need back up! I¡¯m sending you a portal.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: We got your back, Terry! Is it the monster?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: We are ready.

    </blockquote>

    Rather than answer, Terry sliced space open, connecting the ghoul home to his team¡¯s tiny cave.

    Al¡¯Ruzan was the first through, his eyes instinctively tracking to Ben, his knife held tightly in his hand. Ben looked over, then was forced to pull his attention away as a handful of sanguine flew through the air toward them.

    Icicles pierced three of them and Ben leapt to intercept the last two¡ªone with a fist, the other with a boot.

    Juan Carlos came through next, a ball of fire cupped gingerly in his hand. His eyes found Terry, a smile forming before he caught sight of the movement all around them.

    ¡°Uh¡­Terry.¡±

    ¡°Talk later,¡± Terry grunted. His aura was shifting, Affixing Liquefy Metal as he dropped Draw Water. ¡°Vampires bad. Ghouls and human good.¡± He pointed up toward the swarming sanguine. ¡°Burn the bastards.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 31: The Blood of the Mother

    Flames scorched skin, icicles speared through flesh, and ghoul claws matched against sanguine fangs.

    Terry¡¯s aura continued to shift, his skin itching as he waited for Liquefy Metal to become active. He tried opening a portal to intercept a flying sanguine, but his aura bucked, the portal fizzling out as he lost his grip on it.

    Note to self, don¡¯t Affix Skills mid-combat¡­

    For the first time, he wished he¡¯d taken the Talent to halve his Affixing time, because this wait was killing him.

    Even though his aura pricked at him, he gritted his teeth and faced the incoming sanguine. A swarm fell from the ceiling, gliding down toward them with impressive agility. Ben¡¯s icicles sliced through a handful and Juan¡¯s fire splashed against another, but nearly a dozen made it past their ranged attacks.

    Al¡¯Ruzan stood at his shoulder, his knife held loosely. On his other side, ice began to climb up Ben¡¯s skin, encasing him in an armor that shimmered like diamonds. Behind them, he sensed the heat from Juan, felt it warm one side of his face as a liquid ball of fire smashed into another sanguine.

    Those that made it through their attacks swooped in hard, coming straight for the four of them. There was no time to think as two sanguine separated from the pack and angled straight for Terry. He simply put up his guard and braced for impact.

    His D-grade physique was more than enough to take a couple hundred pounds flying in at speed.

    What he couldn¡¯t take were the claws digging through his flesh and the fangs clamped onto his shoulders. He fell back on his training with Whipvine, focusing his efforts on creating space where his longer limbs would work to his advantage.

    Reaching up, he clamped a hand around a sanguine¡¯s neck and began to squeeze. It held on tenaciously for another few moments, then loosened its jaw enough for Terry to rip it away.

    He gasped in pain as its claws took flesh with it and he threw it to the ground in a mix of desperation and anger.

    His boot stomped on its head even as he reached up to the second one digging into his back. The angle was awkward and he fought through the pain in his side to lift his arm back toward the sanguine.

    But no matter how he reached, he couldn¡¯t get the leverage to tear the vampire away. He fought down the panic and reached for his aura. It was still shifting, but he tried to stir it anyway.

    A sharp pain stabbed between his eyes from the effort but desperation gripped him. He pushed his aura, searching for any Skill that would respond.

    His portals took very little energy, but the finesse required was beyond him right now. He reached for his Metal Telekinesis in an attempt to separate his bracelet and send silver ball bearings at the sanguine. He felt the bracelet shift, then go slack as he lost the Skill.

    Hot liquid drenched his back though the pain seemed to be distant. The weight of the sanguine told him it was still there, ripping into his flesh, but the white-hot pain had numbed to a bare pinprick.

    He knew he was losing too much blood, had to get this thing off him now.

    Fighting through the fog on his mind, he reached back and smashed his wrist against the sanguine in a desperate attempt to touch it with his silver bracelet.

    A painfully loud shriek sounded right in his ear and the weight left his back.

    He slumped to a knee, looking over to see the sanguine¡ªred blood dripping down its face¡ªcrawling away with a hateful look in its eyes.

    His aura settled, his new Skill shifting into place. With a grunt, he forced himself to his feet and activated his abilities.

    The silver ball bearings melted, straightening into two dozen needles that formed a net around him. With a flick of his aura, five of the needles shot forward, piercing the retreating sanguine through the face.

    Its shriek only lasted half a breath before the silver killed it.

    He turned to survey the battle and stumbled, a wave of dizziness taking him. Two hands wrapped around him, steadying him as he nearly fell. He turned, struggling to focus his eyes as he looked to see who had helped him.

    Ben looked down at him, diamond armor encasing everything except his face.

    They exchanged no words, Terry simply nodding once he¡¯d caught his balance. Over Ben¡¯s shoulder, he saw movement and acted on instinct.

    A dozen silver needles intercepted the flying sanguine, shredding its flesh wherever it touched.

    Ben whirled around to see the corpse smash into the ground, rolling to a stop before him. When he turned back, there was confusion in his eyes, his mouth opening to speak.

    Before he could, more sanguine dove from the ceiling to attack. Terry flared his aura and sent his wave of needles toward them. A chorus of shrieks filled the air as the entire group crashed to the ground.

    A moment later, a pulse of aura echoed out, filling the entire cavern. Terry felt there was some message in that pulse, rather than an ability, but he could barely stand, let alone grasp the nuance of the aura.

    But the meaning was clear enough when the hundreds of swarming sanguine peeled back like flies shooed from a corpse. They crawled or flew back toward the tunnels, a full retreat that saw the cave empty of sanguine in seconds.

    Terry cast a quick glance around, taking stock of the aftermath.

    Al¡¯Ruzan stood tall, half a dozen dead or dying sanguine in a semicircle around his feet, his blood dripping from just as many wounds. Juan had a gash across his forehead that dripped blood into his eyes, but was otherwise unharmed. Across the cavern, Crimson Spear walked amongst his people with no sign of injury, though Terry noted a half dozen ghouls that lay still.

    He turned to find Ben, only to see him standing right in front of him, his eyes narrowed.

    ¡°How¡¯d you do that?¡± the man asked.

    Terry¡¯s head was spinning and it took him a moment to process the words.

    ¡°Do what?¡± His words sounded slurred to his ears. He licked his lips, tasted blood.

    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be a Traveler. How¡¯d you¡ª¡±

    Terry¡¯s world suddenly tilted, his legs going weak as he collapsed to the floor. He felt hands catch his head before it could crack against the stone.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    When he looked up, Ben was staring down at him with concern.

    Aw, he does care, Terry thought before everything went black.

    <hr>

    Sounds filtered in, distant and incomprehensible. Something touched his skin, soothing the heat that burned there.

    He tried to shift his thoughts into order but found them sluggish. The sounds moved in a pattern he distantly recognized but couldn¡¯t place.

    Rather than force it, he just lay there, letting the sensations wash over him, relishing in the alien sounds and the soft touches.

    But then a familiar word pierced through the fog over his mind and he was suddenly alert.

    Lakarot. Had he imagined it?

    He tried to open his eyes but they felt so heavy. Pushing through, he managed to peel back his eyelids, only to find himself staring into darkness. A soft green light dimly lit the ceiling he was looking at, but not enough to count.

    Lifting his head to gain any vantage seemed impossible, so he ranged out with his aura instead. After the frustration of trying to use it during an Affixation, he was relieved to feel it free flowing and responsive. It filled the room, giving him impressions that formed a dim image.

    Two people, their auras dense, stood apart from him in the direction of his feet. Beside him, he felt another aura, much dimmer, barely even registering to his senses. He began to wonder at that presence, when he felt a fourth person near his head.

    He looked up to see a hooded lich leaning over him, a type of brush in his skeletal hand. He was too tired to flinch at the surprise.

    ¡°Welcome back, young one,¡± the lich said. ¡°We thought your spirit might have fled.¡±

    He tried to speak, but hissed as the movement pulled at something painful on his neck.

    ¡°Sit back, kid.¡± Ben came into view near his feet. ¡°The muscles in your neck are still healing. Sanguine ripped into you good.¡±

    ¡°Wha¡ª¡± He coughed, clearing the muck from his throat. ¡°What happened?¡±

    Crimson Spear joined Ben, his eyes seeming to pierce into Terry.

    ¡°We wondered the same thing,¡± Ben said, sticking to English despite the ghoul¡¯s presence. ¡°Never seen a raid that large in the years I¡¯ve been here.¡±

    Crimson Spear¡¯s aura shot forward in a questioning shape.

    ¡°How did you come to possess the Lakarot?¡±

    That word again!

    Terry furrowed his brow, tried to shake his head but winced at the pain.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know what that¡ª¡± He cut off as he noticed the Singularity cube on Ben¡¯s belt. His eyes widened. ¡°Is the Singularity the Lakarot?¡±

    Ben nodded slowly.

    ¡°That¡¯s right, kid. Meant to have this talk with you later but the sanguine forced the issue.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, forced the issue?¡±

    Ben shared a glance with Crimson Spear, visibly hesitating.

    ¡°The Dukes must¡¯ve sensed its presence. Only explanation for a raid that large.¡±

    Terry sent his aura out to double check, but there was no signature leaking from the cube.

    ¡°How? Not getting anything from it.¡±

    Ben rubbed at the back of his neck, a rare show of embarrassment on his face.

    ¡°I opened it after I first took you from the surface. Closed it back up soon as I recognized it¡­but must¡¯ve been enough for the suckers to pick up on the signature.¡±

    Shit. The implications of that made his hair stand up on his arms. That was just the first attack. There would be more.

    ¡°What is the Lakarot?¡± Terry asked. ¡°I mean, I know what it is, but why is it important to the sanguine? Why do I have a¡ª¡± He cut off as a System warning crossed his vision.

    Ben ignored his interrupted thought, chewing his lip with obvious hesitation.

    Terry studied the man, waiting for an explanation, when the lich¡¯s brush grazed against his neck. He flinched away, sparking a new wave of pain, and flicked his eyes over to the lich.

    It was only then that he realized they were in the Bloodsplatter¡¯s small Evolution Chamber. And he was laying right beside the pool they had been feeding dire wolf parts into.

    An irrational fear sparked inside of him that they had been about to feed him to their new spawnling, when he noticed what the lich was actually doing with the brush.

    The lich held the brush out for him to see and slowly dipped it into the black tar pool. It scraped the excess off delicately, coating the brush in a thin layer before bringing it toward Terry¡¯s neck.

    ¡°The blood of the mother heals,¡± the lich explained. ¡°Crimson Spear ordered that you be blessed, as you bled in defense of the clan.¡±

    Terry looked toward Crimson Spear in question but the ghoul¡¯s face was impassive. Judging by how little of the black liquid they possessed, Terry got the impression that this was quite a boon.

    ¡°Thank you, Crimson Spear,¡± Terry said.

    The ghoul inclined his head slightly.

    ¡°There are many who are beyond the healing touch of the blood. But it was deemed you could be saved, so as a favor to you and your master¡ª¡± He waved toward Ben. ¡°¡ªI agreed to spare some for your wounds.¡±

    Terry cast a surprised look toward Ben, who simply pressed his lips tight.

    No one said anything as the lich did one more pass with his brush. The sensation tickled at his skin.

    ¡°Done, young one. Rise slowly and let¡¯s hope there are no more sanguine raids while you heal.¡±

    Terry raised his eyebrows in surprise. Just moments ago, moving his head had sparked a wave of agony in his neck. He shifted his shoulders experimentally and though tight, the pain wasn¡¯t crippling.

    Slowly, he rolled onto his side, putting his hands and knees beneath him. Tight skin pulled along his back and neck, uncomfortable but not the telltale ripping of a fresh wound. Rising to his feet, he swayed slightly before catching his balance.

    Once he was steady, he bowed his head toward the lich and shaped his aura gratefully.

    ¡°Thank you for saving me.¡±

    The lich inclined his head back.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Ben said suddenly. ¡°Your friends are worried sick and frankly annoying the crap out of me.¡± He turned for the tunnel, glancing over his shoulder. ¡°The big one wants to fight again, I think.¡±

    Terry rolled his eyes, taking a halting step forward. When he didn¡¯t immediately feel a wave of dizziness, he took another.

    ¡°That¡¯s Al¡¯Ruzan. He¡¯s still salty about you beating him up and taking his food for¡­¡± Terry realized just how long their little arrangement must have been going on. ¡°Well, I guess you¡¯ve been shaking him down for years now.¡±

    Ben grunted, not turning back. ¡°It went to a better cause.¡±

    Terry spared a glance for the small pool where he sensed that burgeoning aura.

    I suppose the survival of an entire ghoul clan is more important. Not sure Big Al will agree though.

    He followed Ben and Crimson Spear through the short tunnel where the double doors were closed tight. The two of them pushed the doors open, diffused light streaming through the opening, making Terry squint as his eyes acclimated.

    Past the threshold, his team waited impatiently.

    Al¡¯Ruzan clutched his dagger, his eyes darting between Ben and Crimson Spear in open assessment. Juan delicately cupped fire in his palm as if it would snuff out at the slightest breeze. Chippy and Py were standing together, clearly engaged in a private chat conversation¡ªfor which Terry was pleased to see Al¡¯Ruzan had eased up on reprimanding them. And standing by Juan with her eyes closed was Mara-Lin-Jaid.

    As soon as the doors thumped open, Py, Chippy, and Juan let out little cheers at Terry¡¯s presence. Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s eyes snapped open, icy and detached. Flecks of magic danced across her irises.

    But Al¡¯Ruzan was the first to step forward, his shoulders back, though he sheathed his dagger. Terry waited for the giant to say something¡ªor maybe even take a swing at Ben¡ªbut instead, he just stood there silently.

    Terry raised his eyebrows expectantly, but Al¡¯Ruzan looked toward Ben instead.

    That was when he realized the two of them must have been having a private conversation.

    Crimson Spear strode past the group without so much as a glance, Py and Chippy flinching away from the giant ghoul instinctively.

    Juan, seeing there wouldn¡¯t be a fight, came over with a big smile.

    ¡°Hey, Juan,¡± Terry said, matching the man¡¯s smile. ¡°What¡¯d I miss?¡±

    Juan shook his head, his eyes flicking to Ben and Al¡¯Ruzan over Terry¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°It was crazy, bro. Big Al was in a deathmatch with those things. That guy, whatever his name is, was throwing icicles and beating vampires to death with ice block hands.¡± He puffed his chest out dramatically. ¡°And yours truly burned no less than seven of those things.¡±

    Terry nodded appreciatively. ¡°Wow, nice job.¡± He shook his head with a snort. ¡°Guess I was the weak link.¡±

    Juan shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know, bro. Soon as you started stabbing them with your little needles, they seemed to split pretty soon after. Oh, that reminds me.¡± He reached into his pocket, then flinched, pulling his hand back suddenly. ¡°Ow, mierda.¡± He sucked on his finger for a moment before reaching back in more delicately. After a moment, he pulled free a dozen thin needles. ¡°Grabbed your sewing kit,¡± he said with a wry smile.

    Terry laughed, flexing his aura. He reveled in the ease with which it responded, the needles liquefying in Juan¡¯s hand in an instant. The man yelped in surprise, snatching his hand back, though Terry knew he hadn¡¯t pricked him.

    Molding the silver back into the shape of his bracelet, he activated Metal Telekinesis and slipped it over his wrist magically.

    A voice spoke from behind him.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s about time you explained how you¡¯re able to do that.¡±

    Terry turned to see Ben regarding him with a guarded expression. He bit his lip in thought before responding.

    ¡°I¡¯m happy to do that.¡± He stepped toward the man, holding his gaze. ¡°And you can tell me everything you know about this¡­Lakarot.¡±

 B2 - Chapter 32: The Bonus Objective

    Terry and Ben locked eyes, a tension rising there, neither of them giving an inch to the other.

    Behind Terry, Juan suddenly blurted out in surprise. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what! You can speak English?¡±

    Ben¡¯s eyes flicked over Terry¡¯s shoulder, then back. But the tension drained away with that simple movement and the man sighed.

    ¡°Yes, I speak English,¡± he replied wearily.

    Juan strode to Terry¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Bro, I¡¯ve got a bone to pick with you. Why the hell you been stealing our food for months?¡± He pinched at his belly dramatically. ¡°I¡¯ve lost like six kilo. My abuela¡¯s never gonna let me live this down.¡± His tone took on a high, reedy tone. ¡°Juan Carlos! I told you this superhero garbage isn¡¯t for you. You¡¯re as thin as a stick and been missing for two months.¡± His voice switched back to normal. ¡°This is around the time she¡¯d swat at me with a flip flop or a newspaper or a¡ª¡±

    ¡°Juan?¡±

    The man cut off, looking toward Terry.

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    Terry gave Ben a meaningful look, then turned toward Juan. ¡°I¡¯ll explain everything to you later, okay? But right now, Ben and I need to have a talk.¡±

    Juan¡¯s eyes grew incrementally wider as Terry spoke, culminating in him mouthing the word: Ben, in slow motion. After a moment, he seemed to finally pick up on the tension in the air.

    ¡°Oh, yeah, sure thing, Terry.¡± He began slowly backing away, his hands raised dramatically. ¡°Don¡¯t mind me.¡± Under his breath, he muttered, ¡°Only scorched seven of the vampires.¡±

    Terry shook his head, knowing he had been curt with Juan. He¡¯d make it up to the man later. For now, he needed to get to the bottom of the entire reason they were in the Underworld to begin with.

    And how they were gonna get out of here.

    Turning back to Ben, he opened his mouth to ask just that, when Ben also started to speak. They both stopped abruptly.

    ¡°You first,¡± Ben said.

    Terry considered that for a moment. As much as he wanted to get his answers, he didn¡¯t want his lines of questioning interrupted if Ben got impatient.

    ¡°No, you first,¡± Terry insisted.

    In the little time Terry had known the man, Ben had been unusually stoic. So it was a surprise when he started biting his lip nervously.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to know how you¡¯re able to manifest multiple Class Skills?¡± he asked. He hesitated a moment, clearly not done. ¡°And¡­the metal elementalism.¡± He seemed to become suddenly embarrassed, as if Terry had made some expression. ¡°It¡¯s an unusual powerset, is all,¡± he quickly added.

    Terry narrowed his eyes, confused by that sudden shift in Ben¡¯s tone.

    ¡°Well, since the cat¡¯s outta the bag, you¡¯ve probably already figured it out. I can catalog others¡¯ abilities and then make them part of my own powerset. It¡¯s called Affixing and I can only have a certain number active at a time¡ªand only at my rank or lower.¡±

    Ben was nodding along, so Terry continued.

    ¡°And as for the metal elementalism¡ª¡± Ben¡¯s face hardened, as if bracing for impact. Terry hesitated, studying the man¡¯s expression. But there was nothing to be read in that icy set of his lips, the loose-lidded gaze, except rapt attention. ¡°Well, I copied those Skills directly from my grandfather, Silver. He¡¯s an S-ranker who started as an Elementalist and transitioned to Duelist.¡±

    The tension visibly released, Ben¡¯s eyes relaxing, his lips no longer pressed tight. He snorted, shaking his head.

    ¡°Thanks for explaining, Terry. I know the details of a super¡¯s powerset are particularly private and you didn¡¯t have to, so¡­thanks.¡±

    Terry nodded, not quite put at ease. There was something lingering, niggling at the back of his mind that wouldn¡¯t let him move on to the topic of his Quest, even though it was all he could think about moments earlier.

    ¡°Why,¡± he started, wondering how to phrase the question. ¡°Why did you ask about the metal elementalism, specifically?¡±

    Ben took on a chagrined expression, rubbing at the back of his neck in embarrassment. ¡°Ah, forget it.¡± He shook his head like it had been a silly thought. ¡°Just someone I knew once had the same set of Skills. Wasn¡¯t named Silver, though, so not the same guy.¡±

    Terry¡¯s stomach flipped, goosebumps forming on his arms.

    ¡°Ben¡­¡± he said slowly.

    The man¡¯s eyebrows rose in concern. ¡°What? What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    Terry took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart.

    ¡°Was the man¡¯s name¡­Lance Gunnar?¡± The sudden widening of Ben¡¯s eyes was tell enough, but Terry couldn¡¯t stop, like a rock rolling down a mountain, the words fell out of their own accord. ¡°Also known as¡­Gunmetal?¡±

    Ben¡¯s mouth gaped open and shut multiple times, as if he were forming words, then yanking them back. Their eyes met, the sudden realization passing between them unspoken.

    Suddenly, Ben turned away, taking three halting steps before stopping.

    ¡°So, the old bastard¡¯s still kicking,¡± Ben muttered.

    Terry took a step toward the man, feeling the connection so suddenly, realizing it might have been there the whole time.

    ¡°Ben, who is he to you?¡±

    The man scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°No one¡­¡± Terry narrowed his eyes and Ben looked back over his shoulder, the emotions writ clear across his face. ¡°And everyone.¡±

    Terry knew the answer, but it needed to be said out loud, pulled free like some spell on the cusp of completion, ready to fizzle out if left incomplete.

    ¡°Silver. Lance Gunnar¡­he¡¯s your dad.¡±

    A strangled laugh left Ben, full of acidic humor.

    ¡°Sure is, in so much as a man you haven¡¯t seen in forty years can be anything to you.¡± He turned to face Terry, his expression constantly shifting between a kaleidoscope of emotions. After a moment, a sad smile took hold. ¡°Guess that makes us family.¡± He shook his head in disbelief. ¡°Penelope¡¯s son? Or did Dad have more kids after I¡­¡± He trailed off, the hurt clear in his voice.

    Terry took another step forward, closing the gap.

    ¡°Yes, Penelope¡¯s my mother.¡± Terry hesitated, wondering how much to say. After a moment, he realized that Ben had been offworld for decades. The pain of never knowing what happened to your family must have eaten away at him, leaving a hollow husk of a man. ¡°Silver¡ªLance, or whatever.¡± He snorted. ¡°Grampa, sometimes. Well, he¡­he also went missing.¡±

    Ben¡¯s head snapped up.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°What do you mean? He¡¯s gone?¡±

    Terry shook his head. ¡°No. I, uh, I don¡¯t have all the context, but he was on his Capstone for some forty odd years¡ªlike you, I guess. Only came back last year. That¡¯s when I met him and learned some of his Skills.¡±

    The revelation seemed to draw a mixed reaction from Ben. Terry watched the war inside of him as he tried to reconcile the news. After a moment, a question seemed to spark behind his eyes.

    ¡°Wait, forty years? So he left right after me?¡±

    Terry nodded, which caused Ben¡¯s eyes to darken.

    ¡°What about Pen? She was just a kid when I left on my Midmark¡­¡±

    ¡°Sol¡ªSolomon Rosenthal¡ªtook care of her while he¡­¡± He trailed off as Ben¡¯s eyes turned cold, ice-blue magic ringing his irises.

    ¡°He¡­left her?¡± The words were soft, but Terry felt a deadly energy lacing them. Rime frost began to coat the floor, chill the air, rise up Ben¡¯s clothes. ¡°He left her¡ª¡± His voice raised, turning into a bellow. ¡°¡ªfor forty years!¡±

    Terry took an involuntary step back as cold air blasted him, sending a shiver up his back. He looked behind him to see the entire cavern stilled. Ghouls watched in violent anticipation. Al¡¯Ruzan touched the tip of his knife hilt with a single clawed finger. Juan held his ball of fire to his chest like it was a baby chick. Chippy and Py Dar shifted behind Al¡¯Ruzan discreetly.

    Of the five of them, only Mara-Lin-Jaid seemed unconcerned, her stone-still expression watching the two of them stoically.

    When Terry turned back, the aura and frost had begun to dissipate as Ben¡¯s shoulders sagged. Despite being a giant of a man, he suddenly seemed so small and tired.

    ¡°I should¡¯ve gone back,¡± he muttered. ¡°I should¡¯ve protected her.¡±

    Sensing an opening, Terry stepped forward.

    ¡°There was nothing you could have done. You were on your Quest and¡ª¡±

    Ben¡¯s head shot up, his eyes opaque with chips of white-blue magic that looked like a storm. His voice full of ice.

    ¡°Yes, there was!¡± His voice echoed throughout the cavern and he seemed to suddenly realize that every eye was on him. Lowering his voice, he repeated himself. ¡°Yes, there was. I could have gone back after my Midmark.¡± Terry¡¯s eyes widened at the revelation. ¡°I¡­chose to stay. My own arrogance¡ªmy useless, stupid need to one up my father.¡± His eyes found Terry, the white-blue magic slowly subsiding. ¡°I wanted to come back an S-ranker. Be the youngest, reach the rank the fastest. Shove it down my father¡¯s throat so he¡¯d be forced to acknowledge that I was better than him.¡±

    Terry shook his head, something not quite adding up.

    ¡°So you chose to stay in the Underworld? But why haven¡¯t you¡­¡± He trailed off as Ben shook his head.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t stay in the Underworld. I transitioned to the Underworld.¡±

    Terry furrowed his brow at that. ¡°What do you mean transitioned?¡±

    Ben didn¡¯t respond immediately, his eyes scanning the floor fitfully, like he were reliving distant, painful memories. After a moment, he sighed.

    ¡°I was on a planet called Makaros for my Midmark. When I completed my Quest, my System gave me a choice.¡± His eyes lifted, meeting Terry¡¯s. ¡°Return home until my Capstone or transition to an adjacent world to continue advancing.¡±

    Terry shook his head in confusion. ¡°But why? What was the payoff?¡±

    Ben snorted, looking around with a humorous twinkle in his eye. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Terry. There was opportunity for quick advancement¡ªmore Quests, higher danger, higher reward. But I¡­¡± His eyes caught on Crimson Spear, the other ghouls observing from afar. ¡°I could have finished my¡ª¡± He cut off, an obvious notification flashing in his vision. He sniffed, clearing it with a flick of his eyes. ¡°I could have returned home an S-ranker decades ago.¡± He waved to indicate the ghouls. ¡°But I¡¯d have been leaving them to die.¡± He shook his head, his voice low. ¡°I couldn¡¯t do that, you see?¡± His eyes took on a steely glint. ¡°Cause we¡¯re the reason they¡¯re dying. Us heroes¡ª¡± He spat the word. ¡°¡ªstole what wasn¡¯t ours to take¡­¡± His hand reached down to the Singularity cube, patting it gently. ¡°But now we have a chance to right that wrong. A chance to restore the Bloodsplatter Clan to prominence. Give their world another shot at life.¡±

    It was so much to process, Terry had to take a minute. Over his shoulder, he spotted the others still watching them, though only Juan would have understood the conversation.

    None of it made sense to him.

    ¡°Why? Why do the Systems give the S-rankers a Quest to collect the Singularities if by doing so, they¡¯re killing these other worlds?¡±

    Ben sighed, shaking his head. ¡°I don¡¯t have all the answers, Terry. I only know one thing for certain.¡± He lifted the cube, weighing it in his hand. ¡°Losing this Singularity is killing this world. If things continue as they are, the ghouls, the liches¡ªeven the sanguine¡ªwill go extinct. They survive on that black liquid back in that chamber¡ªthe Blood of the Mother, they call it. And since the Singularity was taken, that blood has become a finite resource.¡±

    Terry nodded reluctantly. ¡°Their pool did seem incredibly small. Back in Wichita, my other grandfather¡¯s ghouls have a lake as wide as this cavern.¡± He thought back to Hoping Tree¡¯s words. ¡°They called it the wealth of their clan.¡±

    Ben¡¯s eyes widened at that. ¡°There are ghouls back on Earth?¡±

    ¡°Yep. My grandfather has thousands of them. The Bonesplinter Clan. It¡¯s where I learned ghoulish.¡±

    Behind him, Juan suddenly gasped.

    ¡°No way!¡±

    Terry turned in confusion.

    ¡°No freakin¡¯ way!¡± Juan repeated, looking between the others before realizing they didn¡¯t speak English. ¡°You¡¯re Terry Fairway? Like, prince of Wichita, grandson to Emperor Necroton!¡±

    Terry felt a flush rise to his face as he shifted uncomfortably.

    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± he admitted lamely.

    Juan¡¯s eyes somehow grew wider and he slapped Chippy¡¯s arm in excitement.

    <blockquote>

    [Chippy]: Why do you hit me, Juan Carlos?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Terry¡¯s famous! His grandfather¡¯s like, a crazy powerful supervillain.

    </blockquote>

    Terry groaned, rolling his eyes.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: He¡¯s not a supervillain. And I¡¯m not famous, no one¡¯s even heard of me.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: You have your own HeroWatch entry, bro!

    </blockquote>

    Huh, that was news. I wonder what it says¡ªno, focus!

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: We can talk about that later. We¡¯re dealing with something a bit more important here right now.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: And do you care to share?

    </blockquote>

    Terry could see from the giant¡¯s posture that he was none too pleased to have been left out of the conversation. He held up a placating hand, turning to Juan.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Juan, maybe you can dictate for me? I can¡¯t do both at once right now.

    </blockquote>

    Juan nodded hurriedly and the streams of text began to roll in a few moments later. Turning back to Ben, Terry brought the conversation back on track.

    ¡°So, things are that dire here?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Ben said with a nod. ¡°And with the recent losses from that raid, it¡¯s only gonna get worse for the clan. I have no idea on the state of the other clans, but I can¡¯t imagine it¡¯s good.¡±

    Terry bit his lip, trying to make all the pieces fit together.

    ¡°Every A-ranker on their Capstone gets the same secondary Quest, right?¡± he asked, thinking out loud. Ben nodded along. ¡°There has to be a reason. Why give every single super a Quest to gather the Singularities to become the Omega? Maybe we need the Omega for something else, something bigger? Or maybe the Omega could fix all this,¡± he added with a wave of his hand toward the ghouls.

    Ben seemed to mull it over for a moment before responding.

    ¡°Maybe¡­¡± he said hesitantly. ¡°But the fact that you have this, brought it here, to the Underworld¡­doesn¡¯t that tell you anything?¡± When Terry didn¡¯t immediately respond, Ben sighed. ¡°It tells me something.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°Your System wants you to restore the Singularity to its rightful home. Not become some all-powerful, arbiter of Earth.¡±

    Terry considered that in silence. Ben was right, it was difficult to reconcile those two facts. Why did his System give him the Deny the Omega Quest? It¡¯s not like it could have possibly expected him to do anything else than what he had done. It clearly had intended him to accept the Summons and bring it with him to the Underworld¡ªthe Aura Filtering Container was proof of that.

    No, Ben was right about one thing. He had definitely been led to come to the Underworld with the Singularity. Which meant his System either didn¡¯t want the Omega to form¡­or hadn¡¯t wanted the person being chosen to become the Omega¡­

    The implications of that rocked him. Was that it? Had his System specifically not wanted his mother to become the Omega?

    ¡°There¡¯s too many unknown variables¡ª¡±

    He was cut off as Crimson Spear suddenly rushed over, his aura pushing forward in an urgent shape.

    ¡°Scouts returned,¡± he said in rapid fire ghoulish. ¡°Another sanguine raid is incoming.¡± His eerily human eyes looked between the two of them. ¡°This one is much bigger.¡± He nodded toward the chamber behind them. ¡°We go to secure the spawnling and as much of the blood as we can. The surface is our only option¡ª¡±

    Ben cut him off with a shake of his head and an aura shape.

    ¡°Not our only option.¡± His eyes met Terry¡¯s, a desperate fire there where it had once been icy cold. ¡°We could delve deeper.¡± His hands traced to the cube as he looked between the two of them. ¡°Return the Lakarot to its home.¡±

    Terry felt adrift, like a leaf in a storm, pulled against his will with the whims of the wind. His mother had been slated to become the Omega. She was good and just and the best person he knew. Yet, his System had denied her ascension, orchestrated his Summons in order to separate the Singularities.

    Was returning it to the Underworld what his System had intended all along? He pulled his Quest up and read it over and over again, filled with more questions than answers.

    Bonus Objective: Restore the Lakarot to power.

    Why was it a Bonus Objective? That implied there was a choice to be made, that he could return to Earth with or without the Singularity. The System made its preference known, but wasn¡¯t forcing his hand.

    Ben and Crimson Spear were staring at him, waiting for his answer. He couldn¡¯t have stopped them if he tried, but still, they waited. Something about that filled him with a trust he wasn¡¯t sure he¡¯d felt before.

    With a nod, he agreed.

 B2 - Chapter 33: Skill Master

    As Terry and Juan caught the others up to speed, the Bloodsplatter Clan scurried about to leave their home forever.

    Whatever happened next, they would never be able to return to here again.

    When the preparations were finished, less than a hundred ghouls and only five liches were arrayed in the center of the large cavern. Exiting from the double doors leading to their Evolution Chamber, Crimson Spear led four ghouls carrying a stone sarcophagus on their shoulders like a funeral procession.

    The entirety of their Blood of the Mother and their lone ghoul spawnling were encased in that sarcophagus.

    Compared to the obscene wealth of the ghouls of Wichita, it felt like a pauper¡¯s worldly possessions.

    By his side, Ben¡ªUncle Ben, though he felt no urge to call him that¡ªwas explaining the layout of the Underworld to the group, with Juan dictating in Team Chat.

    ¡°It¡¯s stratified layers under the Surface. The top layer where we are now is still referred to as the Surface¡ªit¡¯s where the weak clans are pushed, further away from the source of the Blood.¡± Holding his hands up, palms down, he laid them on top of each other. ¡°The layers are pressed tight, but there¡¯s always a small liminal layer in between where the creatures, loners, and lower intelligence undead congregate. The more powerful races tend to push them toward these layers, away from where they live and breed.¡± His eyes hardened, studying the group carefully. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re weak. Draugr packs, rogue patchworks, powerful wraiths, maulers, bone drakes and worse.¡±

    Terry felt his pulse quicken, thoughts of roaming draugrs and patchworks sending a shiver down his back. Though he was confident in handling a sole draugr, a pack sounded terrifying. And he¡¯d never seen a patchwork in a true battle. His imagination ran rampant and he wondered just how powerful the hulking undead truly were.

    He didn¡¯t even let his mind fill in the blanks on what a bone drake was.

    ¡°We¡¯re a large group, so the loners should leave us be¡ªfor the most part.¡± Juan shared an anxious look with Chippy and Py, clearly focusing on that last bit. ¡°But with the Red Dukes hounding us, we may find ourselves pushed into a creature¡¯s territory and be forced to put it down. So stay on guard at all times.¡±

    He opened his mouth to add something else when Crimson Spear appeared at his shoulder.

    ¡°We are ready.¡±

    Terry translated the ghoul¡¯s words for the group.

    Ben nodded. ¡°Us, too. We¡¯ll follow your lead.¡±

    A wave of aura washed off Crimson Spear, passing over the assembled ghouls. Without another word, the procession loped off, moving at a steady jog that would have tired normie Terry in minutes.

    The Awakened group set off quickly, not wanting to lose the ghouls in the twisting passages leading below.

    A pitiful chirping sound came from behind Terry and he looked back to see Chippy waddling as fast as he could on his short legs, his face pinched tight in concern.

    Terry smiled and reached down, scooping the tiny alien into his arms.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You don¡¯t mind being carried, do you?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Quite the contrary. It is my preferred mode of transport.

    </blockquote>

    Chippy settled comfortably into his arms as Terry laughed.

    They left the large cavern that was the Bloodsplatter home and entered tunnels dark enough that Terry had to acclimate his eyes with Master of Light before he could continue on. On a whim, he considered opening a portal to the surface to let in the natural light, but had no way to adjust it with their passage except to continuously open and close new portals.

    The handicap made him consider the Anchor a Skill Quest. He had been so close to figuring that trick out when everything had gone down back on Earth. Only with the Singularity¡¯s help had he managed to anchor his teleportation skill to it.

    But if he could anchor a portal to an object, they¡¯d have portable light to ease their journey¡ªand fight off attacking sanguine.

    More importantly than that, the possibilities multiplied a hundredfold if he considered the capability to anchor any of his Skills to any object. A token that allowed teleportation, glasses that gave the wearer infrared vision, metal imbued with telekinesis¡ªthe list went on and on.

    He wished he¡¯d taken the time to experiment in the downtime before Ben had kidnapped him.

    As they ran deeper into the winding tunnels, he considered experimenting as they traveled. He sent Ben a message, since the man was near the front of the traveling group and out of earshot.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Can you ask Crimson Spear if I can open a portal to the surface? I want to experiment with having it follow us so we have permanent light¡ªat least during the day.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: You can do that? If you could keep one open and following us, the sanguine would be forced to stay back. Do it.

    </blockquote>

    Not needing any further prompting, Terry reached up with his aura toward the surface. He felt Chippy stir in his arms as he sensed the power, but Terry maintained his focus as he prepared the portal framework.

    He thought back to when the Singularity had burned within him, tried to recall the intricate structure that he¡¯d constructed on pure instinct. It was fleeting in his mind, like trying to hold ten different equations in his thoughts at once.

    He tried anyway, crafting the aura framework in a way that he thought resembled what he had done with the Singularity.

    Light burst into the tunnel, burning his eyes for a moment before he adjusted its brightness to a more manageable level.

    The portal quickly trailed behind him as they continued their run. He reached for it frantically, trying to alter its position using his sense of space and aura frameworks. But before he felt any sort of headway begin to form, they turned a corner and it was out of sight.

    He sniffed in annoyance. It wasn¡¯t like he had thought he¡¯d get it right on the first try, but he had hoped to at least get a sense for where he needed to direct his efforts.

    In his arms, Chippy squeaked quietly.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: What are you attempting, Terry?

    </blockquote>

    He considered how to explain, feeling that he sounded a bit arrogant when forced to say it to someone else.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯m trying to create a moving portal. Something that will follow my commands, or at least a fixed target. But it¡¯s no use with us running like this.

    </blockquote>

    Chippy was quiet for a moment and Terry considered trying once more when the message came in.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Perhaps I could help? I know I¡¯m not much use physically, but I am a Savant¡­

    </blockquote>

    Terry read that message wide eyed, feeling like a fool. That settled it, he was arrogant. How could he not have thought to lean upon the expertise of a Class that was literally known for their analytical abilities.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That would be amazing, Chippy.

    </blockquote>

    He felt the little alien shimmy deeper into his arms, a self-satisfied look on the rodent-like face.

    <hr>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: You see this partition here?

    </blockquote>

    His three-fingered claw reached out, highlighting a section of the passing portal as they ran past it. Terry squinted¡ªa natural instinct that he didn¡¯t think helped him examine the aura framework in the slightest¡ªand thought he saw where Chippy was pointing.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Yeah¡­

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: My belief is that is responsible for an axis of its positioning. If so, then it follows that this secondary partition would be a second axis. I¡¯ve yet to find the third, but it¡¯s possible it¡¯s wedged underneath.

    I¡¯m fairly confident this is the exit-side positioning¡ªI have yet to find any sections that correspond to the entrance positioning¡­

    </blockquote>

    Terry furrowed his brow, looking down at the rodent thing he carried in his arms like that one alien in that pre-Call movie series¡ªthe one with the big ears that talked in a strange pattern¡­he couldn¡¯t remember its name.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: How are you making that deduction? I don¡¯t see anything about that area that would suggest it¡¯s related to location¡­

    </blockquote>

    Chippy squeaked¡ªa less cute sound now that he realized it also signaled annoyance.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Because I¡¯ve studied aura frameworks for years, Terry. And there¡¯s another piece that connects to you that is reading the data from that axis partition. As we move further away, that component alters slightly.

    My hypothesis is that the fourth partition is tracking your positioning in relation to its own positioning using the aura tether and the three axes partitions.

    </blockquote>

    Terry blinked.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Show me.

    </blockquote>

    Another portal cut through space a few feet in front of them and Chippy extended his aura like a professor¡¯s extended stylus. In quick succession, he indicated the two axes partitions he had found, then the positional partition that supposedly reflected the portal¡¯s positioning relative to Terry.

    He studied that section of the aura framework, taking an Aura Snapshot as they approached, then another one as they passed for cross-reference.

    As they continued on, he pulled up the two mental molds and compared them. The Skill didn¡¯t highlight the differences naturally, but he didn¡¯t need it to; the contrast was obvious almost on first glance.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Shit¡­I think you¡¯re right!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Mmmm.

    </blockquote>

    The alien shivered in Terry¡¯s arms, like a cat¡¯s purr¡­he hoped. It was obvious that Chippy had a scientist¡¯s disposition that had been wasted for months trapped in that cave on the Surface, and he was relishing in being useful for a change.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: So, if I alter that partition¡­

    </blockquote>

    He reached out to the portal fading behind them, molded the first section Chippy had highlighted with a flex of his aura. The portal disappeared and Terry felt a wash of disappointment.

    But then he paused; something still pulled at his aura. With a start, he traced along that line that he had assumed severed naturally. It led down, deep into the ground and out of sight.

    When he found its terminus, the portal was still intact, nearly a mile below where he had first opened it.

    He stopped jogging in shock, his eyes going wide. A huffing and puffing Juan bumped into his back with a bevy of Spanish curses and Terry quickly apologized before messaging Chippy.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: It worked! Changing that first partition moved it beneath us! But it¡¯s still open!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Nice one, Chippy!

    </blockquote>

    Terry raised his eyebrows at the alien, who squeaked again¡ªa happy one, he thought.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Now, the trick is to find the other two axes. Once we¡¯ve isolated those, we can begin fine-tuning the process of moving the portal!

    </blockquote>

    He tried the second partition Chippy had pointed out and met success again, watching with his senses as the portal zipped sideways through the side of the tunnel, disappearing through the stone. Terry cheered, Chippy squeaked, and they set themselves to uncovering the final axis of positioning.

    As he peeled apart the aura framework, he and Chippy mentally cataloged the first partition that controlled up and down as the y-axis, the second partition as the x-axis, and the yet uncovered third partition as the z-axis.

    His aura delved into the portal as they jogged past, working fast before they left it behind. Before he could pinpoint that third partition, it was out of sight.

    He tried again, and again.

    On the fourth try, he managed to hold back both of the blocking partitions by splitting his focus, then quickly altered the third partition that seemed to connect to the fourth partition that they were referring to as the relative-axis.

    The portal suddenly zipped forward, nearly colliding with Juan¡¯s head. The man cried out in surprise as the blue-white oval whipped past him.

    Terry wasn¡¯t sure if the portal would have taken Juan¡¯s head with it, but he still felt terrible and spent the next few minutes reassuring the man that it wouldn¡¯t happen again.

    When Juan was reluctantly assuaged, Terry and Chippy celebrated¡ªquietly; they¡¯d accurately pinpointed the three physical axes and could¡ªin theory¡ªalter the portal¡¯s positioning in real time.

    About thirty minutes into their run down the low-grade tunnel, Ben sent a message to them all that they were stopping for a break while the scouts ranged ahead.

    Juan said a prayer in Spanish under his breath as they entered a wide open cave that branched into four distinct tunnels. The cave was dimly lit by green moss growing from the ceiling¡ªjust enough with Terry¡¯s Master of Light Skill for him to see end-to-end.

    The hundred ghouls didn¡¯t mill about mindlessly, but instead turned to sharpening weapons, resecuring their packs, or other tasks that Terry couldn¡¯t figure out the purpose for. The spawnling¡¯s sarcophagus was reverently lowered to the ground, the four bearers circling it like an honor guard.

    Though he wasn¡¯t winded in the slightest, he was excited for the break¡ªit would give him and Chippy time to experiment with the positioning partitions in one sitting instead of piecemeal as they whipped past the portals.

    Setting Chippy down, he summoned another portal. Brilliant yellow-white light streamed into the cave, illuminating the far corners and drowning out the green luminescent light from the moss.

    Eyes were drawn toward them, Al¡¯Ruzan, Mara-Lin-Jaid, and the ghouls who had been ahead of them and so hadn¡¯t noticed their experimentation during the run.

    Terry ignored them as Chippy¡¯s claw reached up, poking at the aura framework around the portal.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: I think we ignore these three-dimensional positional axes and focus on the relative-axis. With this, you should be able to force the portal to follow you at a fixed relative position.

    </blockquote>

    He thought the logic was sound but he wanted to be careful messing with any of the positional axes because zipping a portal through someone¡¯s head wasn¡¯t what friends did to each other.

    All the same, he noticed Juan discreetly angling behind Al¡¯Ruzan and Terry chuckled to himself quietly as he examined the aura.

    It was strange considering the partitions as positional because there were no numbers, just shapes. By altering the shapes of the aura, it moved the portal or even altered the Skill¡­

    His eyes went wide. When he didn¡¯t move for a moment, Chippy looked up in confusion.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Terry?

    </blockquote>

    He didn¡¯t respond as he pulled up another Skill. With a thought, he activated Metal Telekinesis and pulled his silver bracelet up into the air, putting it side-by-side with the portal framework.

    His eyes and senses ranged back and forth, looking for the connection, knowing it had to be there. Chippy had stared at him oddly for a moment, then chirped as if in excitement. Terry felt his aura pass over the two Skills beside his, studying the vastly different frameworks¡ª

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: I found it!

    </blockquote>

    Terry couldn¡¯t hope to believe that Chippy had understood what he was looking for. Almost in disbelief, he replied.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Where?

    </blockquote>

    Chippy¡¯s aura shifted, peeling back the framework of Metal Telekinesis as he circled a particular section that looked familiar, yet different, from Terry¡¯s portal skill.

    Now that it was pointed out, the similarities were obvious.

    Neither of them said another word as Terry began to manipulate the portal framework, shifting it like he¡¯d once done months ago to Light Shift and his High-Efficiency Light and Matter Transportation to create Master of Light. He didn¡¯t know what the result would be¡ªLight Shift and portals evolving into Master of Light had been unexpected. Some variation of Master of Metal would be incredible, but for now, he just continued to work without trying to steer the new framework into any particular direction.

    As he ran his senses over both frameworks, he began to catalog the sections of the molds that he intuitively realized were compatible. Compared to before when he¡¯d created Master of Light, his aura attributes were much stronger¡ªand now, he had Chippy.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Try this here. No, no¡ªhere!

    </blockquote>

    Terry faltered, trying to follow the little Savant¡¯s direction. But once he realized where Chippy was pointing, he saw it too¡ªa fold in Metal Telekinesis that would slot perfectly in the portal framework.

    They continued like that for the next few minutes, Terry working on intuition and Chippy giving suggestions when his intuition missed the bigger picture. He might have thought two cooks in the kitchen would be a disaster for his progress, but Chippy had the perfect temperament to complement Terry¡¯s more artistic approach and he could feel¡ªjust feel¡ªthat they were moving at a breakneck pace compared to his earlier attempts in Wichita.

    When Ben came over and gave them a two minute warning about breaking camp, Terry held up a hand, silently shifting another fold in the portal framework. It slotted into place perfectly and he sat back, giving Chippy a satisfied look. The two of them stared at each other in silence for a moment, the tension building, until they both cheered together¡ªTerry whooping, Chippy letting out a high-pitched series of squeaks that he nevertheless understood perfectly.

    He didn¡¯t even need to see the notifications that rolled in to know that it had worked; they¡¯d created a new Skill from two existing Skills.

    Not only that, he felt it on some intuitive level that this Skill was a class above anything else in his catalog.

    When he read the notifications, he could only shake his head, wide eyed and slack jawed as the others crowded around.

    New Skill created: [Master of Telekinesis]

    Master of Telekinesis (D ¡ª Upgradeable)

    Use aura to move physical objects. Speed, dexterity, and distance of movement are dependent on weight and caster¡¯s mastery of aura manipulation and aura projection.

    Note: This is an upgradeable Skill. As caster¡¯s rank, understanding, and aura control increase, so can this Skill.

 B2 - Chapter 34: Holy Mission

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: What is it, Terry? What did we create?

    </blockquote>

    Terry didn¡¯t respond immediately, turning his attention to his Affixations. His D-slots were taken up by Master of Light, his portal skill, and Manipulate Roots, so he prepared to drop that in favor of his new Skill.

    Chippy squeaked as Terry¡¯s aura began to shift the new D-ranked Skill into place.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Terry! My pores are leaking! Tell Chippy!

    </blockquote>

    He laughed at that, even as the itch of the Affixation chafed at his aura. With a thought, he projected the Skill description in the Team Chat.

    Ben eyed him with a pinched brow, his eyes roving over Terry, but really studying the change in his aura.

    As he started to explain to Ben, the Team Chat notifications filled his vision.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: What is that? Why did you share this Skill description?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chippy]: We made it, Py! From scratch! Okay¡­not from scratch, but Terry combined two Skills and a NEW one was formed!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: That¡¯s not possible.

    </blockquote>

    He ignored the continuing conversation, turning toward Ben.

    ¡°What am I seeing, kid?¡±

    Terry felt his aura begin to slow, the new Affixation settling into place. He held up a finger, waiting for it to slot into¡­

    ¡°Ah, there it is.¡± He smiled, taking in the crowd that had formed around him. ¡°Let¡¯s see what this can do.¡±

    As he activated the Skill, it felt both the same and different from Metal Telekinesis. With the Skill he¡¯d learned from Silver, he could feel the metal, intuitively understand that it would react to his aura and move via his will. But he couldn¡¯t really sense hidden metal or pinpoint every piece of metal in a room. There was a need to target the object, be aware of its existence in some strange way.

    Master of Telekinesis was overwhelming in comparison. The moment he activated it, everything in sight seemed to pull on his attention¡ªa sort of aura current that called to him, broadcast its ability to be moved. More than that, he could feel a sense of weight¡ªno, not weight exactly. As he shifted his aura, he began to recognize that sensation as more of a gauge for how far, fast, and agile he could move the object. It was like a series of readout dials written in the flow of aura.

    And it was drowning him in sensory feedback.

    ¡°Whoa,¡± he gasped. With a subtle flex, he isolated a fist-sized rock and lifted it to head height. His sense of the rock was that he could launch it fast¡ªfast enough to do serious damage to a non-Awakened. He split his focus, reaching for another rock.

    Immediately, the sensory overload quadrupled. Everything in sight shifted, the telemetry data of the aura reacting to his split focus. The rock in his control¡ªand everything else¡ªlost a bit of potential.

    There was so much shifting information assailing his senses, he felt like he was looking at a hundred dials each telling him some different datum. If he tried to take it all in at once, he thought he¡¯d go mad.

    With a thought, he dropped the rock and reached out to something more nebulous. Juan had been carefully cupping his ball of flame like a newborn, so when Terry reached for it, the man let out a little gasp as he felt it pulled from his grip.

    ¡°Hey¡­¡± he complained.

    Terry couldn¡¯t help but smile; his aura held the flame as naturally as his Metal Telekinesis worked his silver needles. He shot Juan an apologetic look as he continued to move the fire, stretching it thin, then contracting it into a ball once more.

    There was something different about shifting the flame that felt off from the rock or his metal bracelet¡ªsome element or quality that was constantly changing, making his control feel tenuous.

    As he passed the ball of fire back to Juan, he couldn¡¯t help but feel that it was just a bit diminished from before. Judging from the way it flared back into brilliant brightness upon Juan¡¯s touch, he gathered he had been right; just controlling the flame wasn¡¯t enough, Juan had some other Skill stoking the fire.

    He opened his mouth to ask about the Skill¡ªmaybe he could catalog it really quick¡ªwhen a ripple of aura passed among the ghouls.

    Ben felt it too and turned to see Crimson Spear in a ready stance, his namesake weapon held loosely in two hands. Terry strained to see what had set off the ghouls when the wave hit him.

    The temperature in the cave dipped twenty degrees in a flash; frost began to coat the ground; Juan gasped like his breath had been stolen and Chippy squeaked piteously.

    The visions came a moment later. A beast struggling hopelessly against the predators that had pulled it down. Ice carried on the wind, stabbing into his face, his mouth, his eyes.

    And then he saw Flore¡¯s eviscerated body, Vlad bleeding out on the cavern floor¡­his father stomping on Siren¡¯s neck.

    He recognized what was happening, forced himself to acknowledge that all those things were true, then shoved them away with both a mental push and a flash of aura.

    When his vision cleared, his blood ran cold.

    Seven draugrs unlike any he had seen before were arrayed before Crimson Spear in a V-formation. Cloth covered their heads and bodies, giving them a hooded look. The edges of their silhouettes frayed reality, defying his attempts to study their appearance. No hands or limbs were visible, but he knew from experience that they were superhumanly strong.

    But their real power was the crushing hopelessness they infected their environment with. An overpowering sense that nothing and no one could stand before them.

    It didn¡¯t feel like seven Wichitan draugrs stood before him. The combined effect of their auras were like that of two dozen draugrs.

    With an involuntary shake of his head, he suppressed the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. At his side, he saw Ben gritting his teeth, an obvious struggle in the flick of his eyes.

    Terry reached out and gripped Ben¡¯s arm. The older man flinched, his gaze cutting toward that grip, then up to Terry¡¯s face. His eyes were lost for another moment, then seemed to clear as he realized who had grabbed him.

    Ben closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath before opening them again. When they did, the normal blue of his irises was replaced with an ice-grey, the magic swirling like a storm.

    The temperature shifted once more, the cold receding with powerful shoves of Ben¡¯s aura.

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    On a whim, Terry took an aura snapshot before turning his attention back to the draugrs.

    He suddenly felt the weight of their regard, like jumping into the lion¡¯s den with a haunch of bloody meat in his hands.

    At his side, Juan whimpered quietly, while Chippy squeezed his eyes shut tight. Terry tried to speak, but the air was so cold, so dry, that his voice croaked.

    Forming some saliva to swallow, he tried again.

    ¡°The visions aren¡¯t real, Juan.¡± The man flinched at the sound of his voice and Terry reached out to grip his arm. ¡°It¡¯s not real¡ª¡±

    The flames in Juan¡¯s hands flared bright, the heat washing against Terry¡¯s skin. He took a step back, worried the man would lash out on instinct.

    ¡°Leave them,¡± Ben said behind him. ¡°If it¡¯s a fight, it¡¯ll happen before we can rouse them.¡±

    Terry flicked his eyes toward the draugrs, noting that they were pressing forward, approaching Crimson Spear and a knot of huddled ghouls. Then he looked toward the others, noting Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s eyes wide with undirected fury, Mara-Lin-Jaid clutching her hands together in some sort of prayer, and Py Dar with her head buried in her four hands.

    A sudden sense of deja vu infected him, bringing him back to that moment when he¡¯d first faced the draugr at the gates of Wichita. He¡¯d been so scared, so terrified he wanted to turn and run away faster than he¡¯d ever run. The thing that had stopped him, the thing that had spurred him on so recklessly, was his ghoul entourage being thrown about, killed by the draugr in their efforts to save him.

    That deja vu enraged him, lit a fire inside his chest that burned hotter than the flames cupped in Juan¡¯s hands, burned brighter than the sun itself.

    He didn¡¯t even think as he acted. A portal ripped open across the air high above them. Brilliant white light streamed through, illuminating the cave.

    Another portal cut across space. Then another.

    Six portals opened in as many seconds, flaring so bright in the cave that the others were forced to shield their eyes.

    Terry strode forward, the sunlight buoying his steps, making him feel light as air.

    In the harsh light, the draugrs were no longer the stuff of nightmares. The strange fraying of reality at the edges of their silhouettes seemed to fade in the light. The oppressive weight pushing down on everyone¡¯s shoulders lessened. The sapping energy of the supernatural cold drifted away.

    By the time Terry reached Crimson Spear¡¯s side, the seven draugrs standing before them were no more intimidating than the dire wolves Al¡¯Ruzan had been hunting for years.

    Crimson Spear cast him a surprised look as he joined the ghoul leader, but the flash of aura a moment later was filled with respect.

    Ben stood on his other side and Terry could tell he was helping to keep the cold at bay.

    A moment later, Al¡¯Ruzan joined them, then Juan, Py, and Mara-Lin-Jaid. A quiet squeak brought his attention down, where Chippy was standing at his knee level with an adorable rodent-like scowl.

    The draugrs had lost the element of terror that was their greatest weapon, but they were still physically powerful creatures of the Underworld; they showed no apprehension or concern with the Awakened standing before them, nor the dozens of ghouls who were shaking free from their stupor.

    An icy voice cut through the air, sending a shiver down Terry¡¯s spine.

    ¡°You approach¡­our terr¡­itory.¡±

    Despite the brave stances of Terry and his team, he could feel their hackles rise at that voice. It was closer to the haunting whistle of the wind than actual words.

    But Crimson Spear didn¡¯t falter.

    ¡°We are on a holy mission.¡± Terry squinted, wondering if he¡¯d translated that word, holy, correctly. ¡°For the survival of all denizens of the Underworld, you must let us pass.¡±

    His eyebrows rose and he looked up to try and read the ghoul¡¯s expression. But that slick red skin betrayed none of his thoughts.

    ¡°Ex¡­plain¡­¡±

    Terry double-took between Crimson Spear and the lead draugr, not quite believing the exchange.

    Then, Crimson Spear nodded toward Ben and Terry finally understood.

    ¡°You sure?¡± Ben asked quietly.

    ¡°Show¡­or fight,¡± Crimson Spear replied.

    Terry flipped his gaze back toward the draugrs to see if they¡¯d react to that statement, but they were as stoic as statues.

    Ben furrowed his nose for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. Reaching toward his belt, he undid the tie and held up the Singularity cube.

    ¡°Ben¡­¡± Terry hissed. ¡°The sanguine will know we¡¯re coming.¡±

    He turned toward Terry, his eyes still swirling with blue-grey magic.

    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± His voice was solid ice. ¡°Let them know. Let the bastards tremble in their hives. Let them squirm and plot and despair.¡± He reached his other hand up, undoing the cube. The Singularity¡¯s power leaked through. ¡°The entire Underworld will rally behind us and those vampire pests will feel the inexorability of the Bloodsplatter Clan¡¯s return.¡±

    Brilliant power rushed from his hand, filling the air with possibilities. It was as if a key had slotted into an invisible hole, laying bare the secrets of the universe. Terry¡¯s power suddenly felt unstifled, ready to do anything with but a flicker of intent.

    It seemed to call to him, whispering in his mind. He strained to hear the words, understand the divine message imparted by an unknowable power.

    Then, it was gone, and he wanted to cry.

    He snapped into awareness, spotted the cube tucked back onto Ben¡¯s waist. A sudden urge to reach for the cube disappeared as soon as it came¡ªit was too much power for him to control, let alone contain.

    As for the draugrs, Terry could feel their emotions shift¡ªponderously, like a glacier shifting off a piece of ice back into the ocean. But he could taste its flavor and knew that violence had been averted.

    ¡°We¡­accept¡­¡±

    Before Terry could understand the implications of those words, the draugrs seemed to fuzz in his vision. For the briefest moment, he wondered if he had read the situation wrong and they were about to attack. Then, the subtle fraying at the edges of their silhouettes doubled, and they began to sink into the solid stone.

    His eyes widened as the seven draugrs slowly disappeared from view, completely phased into the rock beneath their feet.

    Terry stared at where they¡¯d been a moment earlier, then glanced up toward Ben.

    ¡°I¡­I didn¡¯t know they could do that.¡±

    He nodded, taking in a deep breath before letting it out.

    ¡°They¡¯re terrifying bastards, that¡¯s for sure. But the die has been cast and they¡¯ve chosen their side.¡±

    ¡°What the hell was that!¡± Juan blurted behind him. ¡°What was that thing in the box!¡±

    Terry saw the confusion in the rest of the team¡¯s eyes and repeated Juan¡¯s question in the Team Chat as he responded out loud.

    ¡°That¡¯s one of the Singularities¡ªthe Metaphysical one, to be precise.¡±

    Judging from Juan¡¯s furrowed brow, he hadn¡¯t heard of them.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Chippy knows this thing. But it shouldn¡¯t be here.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: How do you know what this is? As far as I know, all seven¡ªwell, six¡ªare on Earth.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Impossible, Terry. Kapilidonis the Wise has assembled the seven Truths, becoming the Autarch of my world.

    </blockquote>

    Terry furrowed his brow at that.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: It is the same on my planet, though we do not call it that.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: This is why our worlds fight. Our own leader has ascended after gathering the seven Divinities. We did not know of Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s people until after the Holy Vessel was formed.

    </blockquote>

    He was floored by the revelation that each of his team members had their own form of the Singularities¡ªand had actually formed their version of the Omega.

    How? Why?

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: The question is, why do you have one, Terry?

    </blockquote>

    His mind was trying to make the connections, draw the dots between what he knew and what he had just learned. But he didn¡¯t have enough information.

    When I see my damn System again, it better have some answers¡­

    The insistent look from Mara-Lin-Jaid and the others pulled him back to the present.

    Before he could craft a reply, Crimson Spear sent out the call to move and Ben spurred them onward. Reluctantly, they all started jogging again, following the ghouls¡¯ lead as they left the cavern.

    As they ran, he wrote out the message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I was given a Quest¡ª

    </blockquote>

    Error. Message cannot be sent.

    He groaned in annoyance.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I can¡¯t really say¡­that should tell you something.

    </blockquote>

    He couldn¡¯t read their reactions as they ran through the dark tunnel leading from the cavern, but Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s response seemed to echo the sentiment of the others.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: We understand.

    </blockquote>

    A sense of relief filled him. For a moment, he had worried they might try to force the issue or hold it against him that he was being coy. He released the portals back in the cavern and summoned a new one, letting sunlight stream into the tunnel.

    With the light, he was able to see their faces for a brief moment before they ran past it.

    Juan flashed him a thumbs up. Al¡¯Ruzan nodded once. Chippy squeaked quietly in his arms. Py Dar made some complicated series of hand gestures with her four arms that he nonetheless took as a positive message.

    He felt emboldened by their understanding and crafted another message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I don¡¯t know why, but the six of us have a shared Quest to help the Bloodsplatter Clan return to their home. And our optional Quest references the Lakarot.

    For some reason, my System¡ªand yours, too¡ªhas offered us a reward to return the Lakarot¡ªthe Singularity¡ªto power.

    </blockquote>

    Hesitation gripped him and he faltered for a moment. Chippy squeaked in his arms, a sound of encouragement, he imagined.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I don¡¯t know about the rest of you, but I trust my System. As much of a pain in the ass it is, I trust the damned thing. I intend to complete that optional Quest. Will you help me?

    </blockquote>

    They ran in silence for a few moments and he wondered if he had read the situation wrong. Maybe they couldn¡¯t care less about him or the Singularity. Maybe they just wanted to get home and the optional Quest was just a¡ª

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: We stand with you, Terry.

    </blockquote>

    For some reason, those words from Al¡¯Ruzan of all people, filled him with a sense of pride.

 B2 - Chapter 35: Self-Powered Pokey Enhancement

    Something about the exposed Singularity had sparked a need deep inside his chest. The memory of that moment back on Earth when he¡¯d first anchored his teleportation Skill into the Singularity itself pulled at the back of his mind.

    At the time, he¡¯d felt that the only way he¡¯d accomplished the feat had been with the power of the Singularity guiding his hand. But now, his aura yearned to be directed, pushed into an object just as he had done before.

    As they ran, he began to wonder if he couldn¡¯t find a way to anchor his teleportation into an object. And not just anchor it, but allow it to form portals in a way that would give the others escape routes and enhanced mobility in a fight.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Chippy, I want to keep experimenting. Can you help me with this project I had in mind?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Of course, Terry. What two Skills should we merge?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Actually¡­before I came here, I managed to anchor one of my Skills into the Singularity itself. My portal Skill, in fact. I was wondering if we couldn¡¯t do something similar with a mundane item. If we all had the ability to teleport¡­

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Oh, how delicious. But Py is an Artificer. We would be foolish not to seek her expertise.

    </blockquote>

    Terry cursed himself immediately. Of course I should have asked Py!

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Absolutely. Py? What do you think?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: I would love to assist, Terry. Can you show me what you had in mind?

    </blockquote>

    It was difficult explaining his ideas, showing the two of them examples, and running through the dark Underworld tunnels with no light but the fire in Juan¡¯s hands.

    But they made do.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: What if we were to hold off on the teleportation tokens and instead focus on your new telekinesis Skill? If we pre-programmed the aura in a specific flight path, we could create reliable missiles. Even have them return to the user¡¯s hand¡ªor thereabouts.

    </blockquote>

    He furrowed his brow at the suggestion, trying to envision what she meant. It didn¡¯t make sense to imbue a rock with a return path and the overhead of having to anchor aura into a bunch of rock missiles sounded like a non-starter.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Can you give me an example?

    </blockquote>

    She nodded agreement, moving toward one of the ghouls before suddenly faltering.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Uh, can you translate for me?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Of course.

    </blockquote>

    The ghoul she had approached eyed her with a stoic expression, his spear tucked away in a roll along his back.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Can you ask if we can borrow its spear?

    </blockquote>

    Terry nodded and shaped his aura in a friendly greeting. The ghoul returned the gesture and he got a series of images that formed the basis of its name, Weeping Rock.

    ¡°Nice to meet you. Can we use your weapon for a moment? We will return it unharmed.¡±

    Weeping Rock didn¡¯t hesitate, reaching back for his spear.

    ¡°You showed strength against the draugrs,¡± Weeping Rock said. ¡°Perhaps enough to earn a name.¡±

    That surprised him and he faltered as he reached for the offered spear. But before he could press the issue, Weeping Rock ran ahead toward the center of the group.

    Terry returned to Py, who held Chippy in her arms, and swapped the little Savant for Weeping Rock¡¯s spear.

    As they ran, he felt Py¡¯s aura begin to stir. He traced its path through the spear, entranced by the way it seemed to push past the natural aura of the shaft and blade, seeping into the structure with no resistance. He¡¯d never witnessed an Artificer at work and he suddenly realized the incredible opportunity before him.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What¡¯s your aura doing?

    </blockquote>

    He could feel the structure it was creating, but had difficulty parsing the actual effect.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: I have a Skill that can harden objects past their natural limit. I¡¯m imbuing the spear with this enhancement.

    </blockquote>

    Terry stared in fascination, belatedly realizing he could take an Aura Snapshot. He added it to his catalog, eager to study it further at a later time. For now, he needed to study the actual process of¡­imbuing, she had called it.

    It only took a few minutes, but he knew immediately when the process was done¡ªcould feel it in the altered aura of the spear, a sense of solidity that was undeniable.

    Py looked up toward him, the question in her eyes.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I think I understood the process¡­but that felt like a fairly simple enhancement. No offense!

    </blockquote>

    Py snorted¡ªa strangely human gesture on the four-armed alien¡ªand held up two hands.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: I am not offended, Terry. That was a simple enhancement. But now that it is sturdier, we may begin experimenting on controlling it through your new telekinesis ability without fear of damaging it.

    </blockquote>

    Oh¡­.that makes sense. He rubbed at the back of his neck, causing Chippy to chirp in alarm as he wobbled in Terry¡¯s other arm. He quickly gripped the Savant with both hands, casting him an apologetic look.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay, so the spear is ready to take a beating. It sure would be nice to take a break to properly experiment.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: All great inventions are the product of stress. Time or environment or situation, it matters not.

    </blockquote>

    Her eyes twinkled with an excitement that infected him.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: I know we will create something great here.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I appreciate the vote of confidence. Okay, let¡¯s see what we can do.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    </blockquote>

    With a flex of aura, he lifted the spear with his telekinesis, angling it so that it hovered at his side, parallel with the floor. It took practically no effort to keep it apace with him and he turned his attention to studying the shifting aura structure as it moved through the air.

    Chippy¡¯s aura reached out, highlighting sections that had also caught Terry¡¯s eye.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: See the similarities in structure here¡­here and¡­here?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Yeah, I spotted that, too.

    </blockquote>

    Chippy squeaked in his arms.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Ah, you¡¯re getting faster, Terry! You won¡¯t need Chippy anymore!

    </blockquote>

    He chuckled at that, shaking his head.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Please, oh aura master, educate this poor acolyte.

    </blockquote>

    With Chippy¡¯s help, they isolated the spatial mapping of the telekinesis skill¡¯s aura framework. Rather than rely upon the Skill, Terry was able to reliably shift the aura to move the spear through the air¡ªthough with slightly less control than when he leaned upon the handicap of the Skill itself.

    Before they could celebrate, the ghouls in front of them began to slow, the entire procession rippling as aura passed from the front of the group.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Juan asked, his eyes wide.

    Terry hoped it wasn¡¯t another possible fight¡ªthey were so close to leveling up the ghoul warriors with a powerful new weapon.

    But as they slowed to a walk, he was able to see past the ghouls where the tunnel they had been running through opened up into a wide open space. The group slowly filtered out of the tunnel, finding themselves on a large flat perch overlooking a yawning chasm that stretched down and out of sight.

    Across the chasm, flashes of movement in the dark caught his eye and he dialed up Master of Light to enhance his vision.

    He gasped in shock, taking an involuntary step back into Py¡¯s arms.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: What is it, Terry?

    </blockquote>

    Rather than answer, he scanned the crowd for Ben and Crimson Spear, his heart pounding with urgency. He found the two of them near the front of the pack, talking in ghoulish casually.

    ¡°The liminal layer should take another cycle to descend,¡± Crimson Spear said. ¡°The next level will¡ª¡±

    Terry approached in a rush, his aura reaching out to interrupt the conversation.

    ¡°Across the way,¡± he gasped. ¡°There¡¯s hundreds¡ªmaybe more. What do we¡ª¡±

    Ben put his hands on Terry¡¯s shoulders, his eyes as placid as a frozen lake.

    ¡°We know. Take a breath,¡± he said in English. Switching back to ghoulish, he turned to Crimson Spear. ¡°Should we let the draugrs handle it or¡­?¡±

    The ghoul leader turned his gaze to Terry.

    ¡°The sunlight you summoned. How much deeper can we descend before you lose that connection?¡±

    Thrown off by how casually they discussed the swarming sanguine across the chasm, it took him a moment to process the question.

    ¡°One moment, let me check.¡±

    Reaching through space, he tested the distance, gauging it against his ability to project his aura. It wasn¡¯t an exact science, but he had a rough estimate¡ªand it didn¡¯t fill him with confidence.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know distance in ghoulish, but not much.¡± He turned to Ben. ¡°Maybe another half mile?¡±

    Ben translated the mile into a measure Crimson Spear could understand, then nodded toward Terry.

    ¡°That should get us past the liminal layer. From there, it¡¯ll be a slog into the deeper layers.¡±

    ¡°We knew this,¡± Crimson Spear said confidently. His eyes cut toward Terry, a weight behind them that was unnerving. ¡°Your portals. How precise are you in their placement?¡±

    Terry waffled his head back and forth.

    ¡°Somewhere I¡¯ve seen before? Very.¡± He bit his lip in thought. ¡°But with no reference point, I have to go by feel¡­¡± He glanced toward Ben, feeling a responsibility to provide the solution weighing down on him. ¡°I can open a portal to get a feel for the other side¡ªeven get a visual¡­¡±

    Crimson Spear nodded, looking toward Ben silently. His uncle stared off in contemplation, leaving Terry wondering what exactly he had missed in the subtext.

    After a moment, Ben turned back to the ghoul.

    ¡°It may be our best chance.¡±

    He seemed to say it begrudgingly, which set off alarm bells in Terry¡¯s head.

    ¡°What may be our best chance?¡± he asked.

    A message came in, surprising him.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: There are ears all around us and voices travel in these open spaces. I¡¯ll fill you in as we run.

    </blockquote>

    ¡°A frontal assault,¡± Ben said, his voice filled with ice. ¡°It¡¯s the only way to break through the layers below.¡±

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: Crimson Spear and his people will continue their descent through sanguine territory, drawing their attention.

    </blockquote>

    Terry opened his mouth in protest, but a subtle shake of Ben¡¯s head silenced him.

    ¡°With your sunlight and the strength of the Bloodsplatter Clan, we will break through their defenses.¡± Ben¡¯s eyes widened slightly, the unspoken statement evident in that gaze.

    Still, he needed to hear it from the man¡ªeven if only in System chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: And the rest of us?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: You portal us past their defenses. We¡¯ll infiltrate their inner sanctum where the Lakarot was once housed. Once it is restored, whatever happens next is irrelevant.

    </blockquote>

    He stared at Ben, his mind slow to process that last statement. Once he did, he was ashamed at his immediate reaction.

    But that¡¯s not what the Quest says, he nearly said. The Quest is to return the Bloodsplatter Clan to their ancestral home¡­

    Ben seemed to pick up on the conflicting thoughts in his mind, his lips setting in a way that Terry understood. There was a question in that look, a choice being presented that he felt ill-equipped to make.

    His head felt heavy, his shoulders sagging as he considered what Ben was implying.

    Even if we all died, even if the Bloodsplatter Clan was wiped out¡­it didn¡¯t matter. We¡¯d be dying to save the Underworld. We¡¯d be restoring the lifeblood of this world, saving millions of ghouls and sanguine and other undead from the gradual demise they¡¯d been slipping toward.

    We¡¯d be restoring the Blood of the Mother.

    Is an entire world more important than my need to return to Earth?

    He let out a deep breath, nodding once.

    ¡°I understand.¡± His eyes found Crimson Spear, his tone unwavering, brooking no argument. ¡°But first, we¡¯re gonna need to improve your weapons.¡±

    <hr>

    While the ghouls arrayed on the rock platform overlooking the chasm, Terry, Chippy, and Py had continued their work inside the tunnel, free from prying eyes.

    Weeping Rock¡¯s spear was clutched tightly in his hands, aimed down the tunnel away from the others.

    With a flex, he poured aura into the anchor point near the tip of the spear. He sensed the reserve filling and he increased the flow, pushing his aura in until he felt it reach its limit.

    The slightest flick of his aura near what they had dubbed the release valve was all it took. The spear launched from his hand like he¡¯d thrown it with all his D-ranked strength. It rocketed forward, clearing a hundred yards of tunnel in a blink before abruptly stopping. Before he knew it, it was flashing back toward him. He struggled to keep his hand exactly where he had released it, cringing as it whipped across his skin.

    But when the dust settled, the spear was balanced across his open palm, only his chafed palm indicative of the sheer velocity with which the spear had returned to its starting point.

    He found himself staring at the spear in disbelief, waiting for an irrational moment to see if it would suddenly go rogue and shoot off again or whip around into his face.

    Behind him¡ªand behind Al¡¯Ruzan, who served as their body shield from prying eyes¡ªChippy and Py Dar cheered quietly. Py clapped her four hands in an unusual rhythm, while Chippy squeaked and chirped as he jumped up and down around the tunnel.

    Terry finally realized that the experiment had worked¡ªthey¡¯d created a flying spear with a boomerang mechanic. It was dangerous and the thrower needed to be meticulous in their positioning to not be smacked by the returning spear.

    But it had worked!

    Not only had it worked, but Chippy and Py had found that they could replicate the manufacturing of the enhancement themselves. With Chippy¡¯s superior aura awareness and control, and Py¡¯s ability to imbue enhancements into items, they were the perfect duo to mass produce a few dozen flying spears.

    The only disappointment to Terry was that he hadn¡¯t learned a new Skill with the discovery. He¡¯d gotten used to the System rewarding him with dopamine hits whenever he discovered something new and he was feeling its lack now.

    But he shoved that disappointment away easily enough¡ªthe ghoulish army now had a powerful new weapon in their fight against the sanguine.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: What should we name it, since the System hasn¡¯t taken the honor? Chippy was thinking: Self-Powered Pokey Enhancement.

    </blockquote>

    Terry turned and frowned down at Chippy.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Pokey¡­?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: That¡¯s not what I typed! The System mistranslated!

    </blockquote>

    Terry and Py shared a skeptical look¡ªwhich Chippy couldn¡¯t miss, despite his low vantage.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Chippy swears! I meant it to say Pokey¡ªyou know, nevermind¡­

    </blockquote>

    He chuckled, shaking his head.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Let¡¯s focus. We need to imbue a hundred of these things and I still want to work on the token idea.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Agreed, Terry. The manufacturing of these enhancements might very well stretch our capabilities¡ªespecially with the time constraints.

    </blockquote>

    He turned his attention to the piece of circular bone in his hand. When he¡¯d asked Crimson Spear for something small, yet durable, he¡¯d procured the coin-shaped bone, suggesting that there were many more where that came from.

    Unlike the spear enhancement, his next idea was not offensive oriented but purely a life-saving measure. He understood from conversations with Ben that the ghouls didn¡¯t expect to live through the next few days, but that wasn¡¯t good enough for Terry.

    He¡¯d never forgive himself if he didn¡¯t at least try to give them the best possible chance of surviving.

    Now that he¡¯d worked extensively on the imbuing process with Chippy and Py, he felt like his understanding had blossomed.

    There were three components necessary for creating an Artifact¡ªeven one as bootleg and janky as what they were creating.

    The first component was the space for an aura reservoir¡ªa refillable battery basically. That was necessary to inject the power needed for whatever the enhancement was meant to accomplish. The power requirements were proportional to the difficulty of the task¡ªthough the physical size of the reserve bore no relation on the power output; rather, the maximum output was governed by the density of the user¡¯s aura. Thankfully for the ghouls, their constant use of aura in day-to-day communications made their aura naturally dense.

    The second component was the aura framework of the Skill itself. For the Self-Powered Pokey Enhancement, Terry had imbued his Telekinesis Skill into the spear. This was a relatively straightforward process that required him to take the ambient aura of the object and tie it off from the rest of the item. Then he could rework that small section into the appropriate configuration. At first, he had worried that changing the fundamental structure of the object¡¯s aura would somehow damage the item. But Py had assured him that changing an item¡¯s aura structure was a fundamental aspect of Artificing, and would not adversely impact the item itself unless the entire aura structure was unraveled.

    The final component was both simple in concept but complex in practice. He needed to program the Skill in response to the influx of power. This was simple in concept because telling the spear to move forward one hundred feet at max velocity should have been as simple as putting in coordinates.

    In practice, isolating the coordinate components of the Skill and then programming the action into the set of instructions based on relative position was quite the challenge.

    It was only with Chippy¡¯s expertise that they were able to pinpoint the necessary changes they needed to make to incorporate the instructions.

    What Terry had in mind for the bone charm was also both incredibly simple in concept, yet complex in practice.

    But if he did it right, then the Bloodsplatter Clan had no need to martyr themselves to buy them time.

    He only had a few minutes, but as he stared down at the bone and began to work its aura, he felt a certainty electrify his being.

    This is gonna work. It has to.

 B2 - Chapter 36: Stowaway

    Terry placed the bone charm into Crimson Spear¡¯s hand, forcing steel into his eyes as he stared at the ghoul.

    ¡°If it looks like all is lost, use it.¡±

    The giant ghoul elder stared down at the charm, his face unreadable. Terry placed his hand over the ghoul¡¯s, willing him to look up.

    ¡°All my life, I was surrounded by your people. My closest friend is a ghoul.¡± He felt the surprise radiate through Crimson Spear¡¯s aura and nodded. ¡°I know your people better than you might think. And I know the sense of duty is your guiding principle.¡± He tapped on the charm. ¡°But surviving to shepherd your people into the next cycle of this world is your duty as well. Don¡¯t throw away your life if you don¡¯t have to.¡±

    The ghoul¡¯s face remained stoic, but he felt the consideration in Crimson Spear¡¯s aura and pressed the advantage.

    ¡°The Bloodsplatter Clan need not die today.¡±

    Before the ghoul could respond, Py¡ªwith Chippy in her arms¡ªjogged over.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: We¡¯re done!

    </blockquote>

    He nodded, turning back to Crimson Spear. But the ghoul had recognized the need to move and was off. As Terry surveyed the ghoul clan, he could feel Py and Chippy¡¯s handiwork resonating through the dozens of spears held with borderline reverence in the ghouls¡¯ hands.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Great job, both of you!

    </blockquote>

    Chippy squeaked happily.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: And you, Terry? Were you able to finish your project without the superlative assistance of Chippy?

    </blockquote>

    Terry laughed at that.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: It was a near thing. Your help was sorely missed.

    </blockquote>

    Ben came over, the grim set to his lips dampening the mood.

    ¡°You ready?¡±

    It was a simple question, one he might have interpreted as referring only to them preparing to continue through the liminal layer. But he knew from the man¡¯s tone that the question was as layered as the Underworld.

    He wiped the smile from his face, matching his uncle¡¯s taciturn expression.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡±

    Ben seemed to study Terry¡¯s face, perhaps looking for cracks in his composure. But Terry was no stranger to responsibility or risking his life. He met his uncle¡¯s eyes, feeling his own golden magic begin to swirl through his irises.

    After a moment, Ben seemed to find what he had been looking for. He nodded and the group took off together as a pulse of aura extended from Crimson Spear.

    Terry took Chippy from Py¡¯s arms and followed the ghoul procession down the rock ramp that looped along the chasm wall, taking them deeper through the liminal layer where they¡¯d reach the bottom. Past that, the next layer of the Underworld awaited.

    He purposefully kept his eyes off the surrounding chasm wall, not needing¡ªor wanting¡ªto see the thousands of sanguine that shadowed them through the liminal layer.

    Put your head down and move your feet, Terry.

    As Crimson Spear had mentioned, the chasm was only about a half mile from top to bottom. But that was as the rock fell. Taking the wrapping loop that hugged the outer wall greatly extended the journey, turning a half-mile descent into a multi-mile run into the depths of darkness.

    He kept his attention on his foot placement and his aura stretching high into the sky. There was something comforting about that connection to the Surface, some reminder that the overwhelming weight of stone both above their heads and beneath their feet was not the extent of this world. Up there was sunlight. Up there was open air.

    And soon, very soon, he¡¯d see it again.

    That connection was his lifeline, the driftwood he clutched to in the empty sea of darkness. He almost wasn¡¯t prepared when Crimson Spear gave the signal.

    As discrete aura shapes approached through the open air of the chasm on outstretched wings, a pulse of power rippled throughout the ghoulish party.

    He started in mid-stride, completing that connective thread with a sluggish thought. A series of portals began chaining across the chasm air, starting from the top and working down in sequence.

    And with it, came the brilliant sunlight of the Surface, piercing the inky black like an angel¡¯s descent.

    All around them, shrieks of terrible pain crescendoed, stabbing into his ears so painfully he was forced to drop Chippy just to cover them.

    In his initial flinch, he had slammed shut his eyes. But logic overrode instinct and he peeled his eyelids back, taking in the sight that accompanied that horrific sound.

    Thousands of swirling bodies plummeted through the air, their gliding flight cut short by the sunlight sapping their strength and burning their flesh. One flying sanguine darted toward them in a futile last act, its flesh blackening before his very eyes.

    When it ultimately collapsed into the rock wall above their heads, a rain of ash drifted down toward them, coating their heads and shoulders in grey-black soot.

    But not all the sanguine burned. He spotted dozens of fliers continuing their gliding descent, the sun having no hold over their flesh.

    This was not unexpected.

    Sanguine elite, bathed in the Blood of the Mother over and over again, their skin hardened against both silver and sunlight. As they arced toward the fleeing ghouls, a command echoed out from Crimson Spear.

    As one, the ghouls with their newly-enhanced spears turned and faced the diving onslaught, angling their weapons to meet them. Flashes of aura lit up across the ghouls, overwhelming his senses as the ambient currents were disturbed.

    With a pulse from Crimson Spear, the ghouls activated their new enhancements, and a wave of spears shot toward the sanguine. Where bone and metal met flesh, flesh was eviscerated. The dying shrieks of the scorched vampires were replaced with the new cries of their elite brethren as they were pin-cushioned by a wall of flying spears.

    Terry watched in both morbid and academic curiosity as the spears impaled the sanguine and continued past to their designated flight distance, then suddenly averted their momentum and raced back toward their owners.

    It was a devastating volley that culminated in the elite wave of sanguine drifting to the chasm floor, dead or dying, and the ghouls clutching their returned spears with obvious reverence.

    In the aftermath, the fading shrieks of the falling elites and the soot marks marring the chasm walls were all the evidence that remained of the thousand strong ambush that had begun less than a minute earlier.

    A moment passed, stretched into two, then three. When the silence broke, it was Chippy chirping in triumph at Terry¡¯s feet. Py joined in a moment later, her four hands clapping together. A wave of disbelief seemed to wash over the ghouls, tamped down by a pulse of aura from Crimson Spear.

    ¡°Move!¡± he called out to Ben and Terry, echoing the command with his aura.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: We gotta move.

    </blockquote>

    Chippy leaped into Py¡¯s arms and they raced to follow the ghouls as they continued their descent to the next layer.

    Brilliant sunlight still streamed down upon them, but struggled to illuminate the very bottom of the chasm. In the dim light, Terry could see the outline of the sanguine elite, their bodies dashed to the chasm floor.

    He could leave the portals open as they moved to the next layer¡ªit would ensure they weren¡¯t ambushed from above as they continued their descent. But he knew from Crimson Spear that the sanguine¡¯s strength was in their practically limitless numbers. They proliferated rapidly by undead standards and decades with unfettered access to the Blood of the Mother had only accelerated that growth rate.

    Crimson Spear hadn¡¯t talked hard numbers, but Terry got the impression that there were only a handful of nearby ghoul clans, probably numbering in the low thousands if the Bloodsplatter Clan was anything to go by.

    The sanguine would have millions standing between them and the wellspring of the Blood. Too many to punch through with sheer strength¡ªenhanced spears or not.

    Which was why they had come up with their next part of the plan.

    When they finally reached the bottom of the liminal layer, the air noticeably chilled, causing him to shiver. For a moment, he thought that the Underworld would continuously drop in temperature and he would need to utilize Master of Light to maintain his body temp.

    Then he saw the draugr drifting across the bottom of the chasm, dispatching the injured sanguine elite with casual strength.

    The cold was because of them.

    Another shiver traced up his back¡ªnot due to the cold.

    He pushed them from his mind, wrapping his team in Master of Light to keep their heat contained. Stopping beside Crimson Spear and Ben, he felt his stomach twist at the thought of what came next.

    ¡°I shall pass to you the path I traveled when we were first exiled. It is not the fastest, nor the safest. But it is the only one I have personally witnessed that connects to the Mother.¡±

    Terry nodded, steeling his mind. This was the part that had been his idea and yet¡­he dreaded splitting the group. Though he knew that his Quest indicated the team would be stronger together, he couldn¡¯t in right mind ask Chippy, Py, Juan, or Mara-Lin-Jaid to join them on what could very likely be a suicide mission. Their strengths weren¡¯t in combat and they¡¯d be better positioned where the Bloodsplatter Clan could defend them.

    He touched Crimson Spear¡¯s outstretched hand, feeling the ghoul elder¡¯s powerful aura interacting with his own. They began to intermingle, like the greeting shape but even more intimate. He opened his own aura, letting the memories flash across his mind like a collage.

    The Underworld stretched before his eyes, seven layers driven deep into the world¡¯s crust. His perspective shifted, showing him the final layer where the Blood of the Mother oozed from dozens of fonts. All the great powers of the Underworld once shared those fonts, as the Blood was plentiful and essential to the undead castes.

    He saw those fonts dry up, turning into the barest trickles, and then, even less. Skirmishes turned to wars as the limited resource began to cap the birthrate of the various undead.

    Crimson Spear appeared in his mind, forced to abandon the Lakarot¡¯s vessel as sanguine and ghoul alike converged on the Bloodsplatter Clan¡¯s home. Shame and anger burned inside Terry as his elder bade him to flee to the Surface with what little of their clan he could save.

    Righteous fury gave way to soul-encompassing embarrassment. He was forced to flee as their defenses crumbled, taking only ten sarcophagi of the Blood with them as they climbed the layers.

    As they rose from the seventh to the sixth layer, they lost half of their stash¡ªand dozens of ghoul lives. The climb to the fifth heralded another sarcophagus lost. And another in the fight to the fourth.

    By the time they reached the Surface, they possessed only two sarcophagi of the Blood and their numbers had been whittled down to less than two hundred ghouls and five liches.

    Terry felt the weight of this responsibility as if it were his own. A shame burned inside his chest, threatening to suffocate him.

    But then, the visions twisted, showing Ben arriving with meat when they needed it most. Years passed and the clan settled into a routine of attrition. Crimson Spear never lost hope¡ªnot entirely¡ªbut he had let himself become complacent.

    He had only realized it after the Lakarot had found its way into Ben¡¯s hands. Terry could feel the fervor in that single moment, the unassailable surety that the Mother had orchestrated another chance.

    And chosen Crimson Spear to facilitate its return.

    In every sense of the word, the ghoul elder was ready to martyr himself for even the chance of returning what was stolen. It wasn¡¯t about his legacy or restoring the Bloodsplatter Clan to its glory days.

    It was the very survival of the undead at stake.

    The wash of emotions began to fade as Crimson Spear pulled his aura back, but a kernel of that shame and righteous purpose remained, infecting Terry with a need almost as powerful as the ghoul elder¡¯s to return the Lakarot to its rightful home.

    When they separated, he locked eyes with Crimson Spear. No words were needed¡ªthe ghoul had already shared his deepest and truest self. All Terry could do was nod his understanding.

    Crimson Spear turned away without another word and Terry felt a flush of pride at the trust that imparted. Ben had felt the exchange, though Terry doubted he¡¯d witnessed the raw emotion. All the same, he understood that it was time to move.

    As the ghouls prepared to descend into the next layer the hard way, Terry felt along that path he had witnessed in Crimson Spear¡¯s mind. The layers were deep, many miles in sharp contrast to the liminal layers which were roughly half a mile.

    Though he would have preferred to simply bypass the layers entirely and teleport right where they needed to be, the strain coupled with the fact that he¡¯d only see the locations in Crimson Spear¡¯s aura, made that impossible.

    He reached through space now, tracing that path in his mind, reaching for the next layer down. There was a spot in the ghoul¡¯s memory¡ªa small alcove branching from the main path that had been obscured by a sheet of rock stretching across its entrance.

    He stretched his aura, going more on instinct¡ªCrimson Spear¡¯s instinct, really¡ªand felt like he found that particular alcove at the end of his range. With a flex of aura, he bridged space, a blue-white portal cutting through the air before him.

    Rather than step through immediately, he sent his aura through, getting a sense for the space beyond. He felt around, gauging the space, and was confident he hadn¡¯t inadvertently opened a portal into solid rock or over a yawning chasm. He turned to Ben, who had a questioning look in his eyes, and nodded.

    Ben stepped through without hesitation, sending a message a moment later signaling the all clear.

    Terry moved to follow when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to look up into Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s yellow eyes.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I will follow. You may need my blade.

    </blockquote>

    He smiled, not willing to admit he was happy to have the Duelist with them. With a nod, he indicated the portal and Al¡¯Ruzan stepped through.

    To the side, Juan, Chippy, and Py looked over in surprise¡ªand possibly a bit of hurt.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You guys will be safe with the ghouls. They promised to protect you. And I¡¯m sure the two of you can work some additional spear upgrades while I¡¯m gone.

    </blockquote>

    He tried to smile but it felt flat on his face. Chippy and Py gave each other a look he couldn¡¯t read, but seemed like they wouldn¡¯t argue.

    Juan, however, stepped forward.

    ¡°Terry, bro, let me come with you. I can fight!¡±

    Terry sighed, stepping toward the man.

    ¡°I know you can Juan.¡± He nodded toward the flame cupped in Juan¡¯s hands. ¡°The Bloodsplatter Clan will need you.¡± He lowered his voice. ¡°Chippy and Py will need you. The ghouls won¡¯t understand that the two of them can¡¯t fight. Someone will have to watch their back¡­¡±

    He could see Juan¡¯s resolve to follow him wavering. The man glanced back toward Chippy and Py, biting his lip in thought. When he turned back, he gave a short nod.

    Terry slapped a hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°And as big as a pain in the ass she is, Mara-Lin-Jaid will need you¡ª¡±

    He cut off as the woman in question strode toward the portal in his peripheral vision. He whirled around to call her name, but before he could react, she was through, the portal tugging on his aura in response.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± he hissed.

    He rushed forward, stepping through his portal¡ªclosing it for good measure in case Juan got any silly ideas.

    The cave on the other side was a tight fit, the four of them pressed shoulder to shoulder in the dark.

    ¡°Mara, what the hell do you think you¡¯re doing!¡±

    A moment later, he realized she didn¡¯t speak English and sent her a System chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Mara, what are you doing!

    </blockquote>

    She didn¡¯t immediately reply, so he cast Master of Light to brighten the dark enough to see her.

    Her eyes were closed, a placid expression on her face. He reached out and gripped her shoulder. She snapped her eyes open, the calm immediately replaced with an annoyed scowl.

    ¡°Mara!¡± he started, then growled as he realized he¡¯d done it again.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯m sending you back right now.

    </blockquote>

    Her voice cut across the silent cave, shocking him still.

    ¡°Mara-Lin-Jaid.¡±

    His brain was slow to realize she¡¯d said it out loud. The shock of her words struck him dumb for a moment, but when his thoughts caught up, he couldn¡¯t help but notice her accent was exotic, a different emphasis put on the syllables of her name than he might have thought.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: If you must abbreviate my name, it would be Jaid. Mara is my mother.

    </blockquote>

    The System message snapped him back into awareness of the moment.

    ¡°Okay, Mara-Lin-Jaid.¡± He tried and failed to keep the annoyed sarcasm from his voice.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯ll ask again. What do you think you¡¯re doing?

    </blockquote>

    ¡°Terry,¡± Ben¡¯s voice cut through the tight cave. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this. Crimson Spear and his people are buying us a distraction with their lives.¡±

    ¡°One second,¡± he replied, turning to stare into Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s eyes. Without blinking, he opened another portal back to where they had come from.

    She flicked her gaze toward it dismissively.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: I¡¯m staying.

    </blockquote>

    He growled, waving toward her in annoyance.

    ¡°She won¡¯t go.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Ben said. ¡°Let her come. If she slows us down, that¡¯s on her.¡±

    Terry wrinkled his nose at the casual statement but couldn¡¯t find any other way that didn¡¯t involve forcing her through the portal like a child.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: I saw this, Terry. I¡¯m supposed to be here.

    </blockquote>

    He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Her visions seemed awfully convenient when it came to getting her way.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay, but I can¡¯t promise your safety. And if you slow us down, we¡¯ll be forced to leave you.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: I understand.

    </blockquote>

    He shrugged, turning toward Ben.

    ¡°I guess she¡¯s staying. I¡¯m gonna start reaching for the next waypoint.¡±

    Ben nodded, his eyes searching the cave, his aura tracing the gap that led outside the alcove.

    Terry pushed Mara-Lin-Jaid from his mind and began stretching his aura deeper into the Underworld, searching for that next stop he¡¯d seen in Crimson Spear¡¯s aura.

 B2 - Chapter 37: Bedside Manner

    Juan Carlos imagined his abuela¡¯s disapproving glare, the wrinkles contracting on her forehead and around her eyes.

    ¡°Juan Carlos! I expressly forbade you from risking your life! If I could, I¡¯d rip that blasphemous magic from your very hands.¡±

    He¡¯d always nodded his head, a respectful ¡®Si, abuela¡¯ almost a mantra to him by the time he was ten.

    But now, as he ran beside Py Dar behind a troop of undead soldiers, charging the vampire blockade before them, he couldn¡¯t help but scream his defiance. He couldn¡¯t tell if he was defying the vamps trying to kill them or his abuela. All he knew was, on the verge of death, he had never felt so alive.

    Flames flickered in his hands and he activated his Stoke Skill, flaring them as bright as a campfire. As the front line of ghouls crashed into the bone constructs the sanguine had erected, he tossed four fireballs over their heads in quick succession.

    He had discovered after the first blockade that the bone material they used in their structures was especially susceptible to fire and the big ghoul had instructed him with a gesture to give it his all.

    At least, he thought that was what the ghoul leader was saying. They¡¯d only realized after Terry and Ben left that none of them understood the ghouls. But it didn¡¯t take a genius to recognize that vampires were bad and ghouls were good.

    Feeling like he¡¯d been given the green light, he finally leaned into the powers he had been deprived of for months before Terry¡¯s arrival. He¡¯d always loved fire¡ªwould stare into the campfires his family lit nearly every night during the fall and spring months. When he¡¯d gotten older, he¡¯d even stolen a lighter from his abuela and lulled himself to sleep by lighting it over and over again under his covers.

    That had ended disastrously and the campfires had stopped for a time.

    Once he Awakened though, they couldn¡¯t stop him. Fire became his constant companion. He¡¯d worked so hard on improving his skill that by the time he was E-ranked, he could maintain a fire in a jar inside his school backpack. He¡¯d learned to keep it smoldering in low oxygen environments, a constant companion during a time when he felt so alone.

    When he¡¯d been summoned and had no access to fire, he¡¯d spiraled into a state of depression. There were times when he considered simply walking out into the blizzard and ending it once and for all.

    Only the thought of how his abuela would react when he never returned kept him going, day in and day out.

    And now¡­now he had reunited with the flame. For the first time in his life, he was given free rein¡ªnot only to possess the flame but to unleash it.

    As his fireballs crashed against the hastily constructed bone ramparts, he angled the fire to splash up and around, licking at the dry sanguine skin. He could feel the fire catch, the screams of the vampires cutting across the distance, stabbing into his ears.

    It didn¡¯t matter; they had attacked first. They prevented Juan and the ghouls from their goal.

    They are standing between me and my return home.

    He was going to burn them all.

    The flames answered his call, dancing from sanguine to sanguine, searing a path through the resistance with ease.

    When the ghouls crashed against the bulwark, the vampires were already in disarray, the bone constructions visibly weakened from the fire. There were no ghoul casualties as Juan, Py, and Chippy raced through the gap, hot on the heels of the Bloodsplatter Clan.

    Spears stabbed into those still alive and Juan collected his flames with a flex of aura. The fuel of their flesh kept the fire healthy, vibrant, ready to launch at whoever got in their way.

    In the distance, he spotted more sanguine rushing to form a defense at another chokepoint created by the natural formation of stone.

    He pulled his fire in tight, a terrified, excited grin stretching across his face.

    For the first time in his life, he felt powerful.

    <hr>

    The four of them portaled to the next layer¡¯s waypoint without incident. They found themselves on a jutting column of rock that was surrounded by darkness on all sides.

    Terry immediately began reaching for the next layer, extending his aura through the rock along the path imparted by Crimson Spear.

    Unlike when he had been to a location before, he had to stretch his senses by feel. Striking straight down wasn¡¯t enough, since the next waypoint was off center of their current location. But the aura visions from the ghoul elder weren¡¯t like the coordinates of a map; they were more sensations and feelings than hard directions.

    Still, he knew he¡¯d find the correct spot eventually. It was just a matter of searching until something pinged in his senses that reminded him of that familiar point.

    With his attention fully on his aura, he hadn¡¯t realized that Mara-Lin-Jaid was breathing heavily, great heaving gasps that echoed in the empty dark. He flicked his eyes toward her, wondering if he was hearing the beginnings of a panic attack.

    That was when he noticed Ben swirling his aura in a way that could only be preparation for an attack. Al¡¯Ruzan held a spear he¡¯d been given by one of the ghouls after his defense of their spawnling, his eyes ranging not out, but up.

    He paused his search, looking up to see what had them concerned. With his attention diverted, he finally heard the sound that had only been a soft susurration in the back of his mind.

    The sound of thousands of wings flapping filled the air above them.

    ¡°Hurry up,¡± Ben hissed.

    Terry turned back to his task with a start, diving into the search for the next layer¡¯s waypoint with a sudden urgency.

    It was difficult to lend his entire focus to the job when it seemed now that all he could hear were those wings. An irrational belief that they would suddenly dive and dig claws or teeth into his back kept pulling his attention away.

    Focus, Terry¡­focus.

    He took a deep breath, holding it in for a four count, before slowly exhaling it for another four count. As he took in another, the air around them chilled.

    Ben¡¯s aura swirled like a hurricane, frozen air turning into a storm of icicles that spun about them. It was like they were the eye of a localized blizzard on their jutting column of stone.

    Secure in the knowledge that Ben was working their defense, he let himself sink into the task, picking up his aura from where he¡¯d left off.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid sent out a message to Al¡¯Ruzan and said something alien out loud to Ben, but Terry didn¡¯t let it divert his attention.

    His aura swept across the next layer, finding plenty of pockets of space that he was fairly certain were open air. But none of them triggered that memory passed along by Crimson Spear.

    In the back of his mind, he felt more than saw, a wave of bat-like creatures crash into Ben¡¯s ice storm. They were as large as dogs, but more animal than the sanguine that had attacked them in the chasm earlier.

    Though the storm slowed many, dicing them with crystalline ice, a few thuds sounded around him, signaling that some had also pierced the veil and were in range. In his peripherals, he saw Al¡¯Ruzan stab forward with lightning speed, piercing heads and launching the dead bodies over the edge in a single movement.

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    His aura ranged wider, passing over a space that gave him a sense of deja vu. It was a strange sensation, since the sensory inputs of his aura were vastly different than Crimson Spear¡¯s decades old physical memory of this layer. But after a moment to verify, he was certain he¡¯d found their next waypoint.

    ¡°I got it!¡± he cried out, reaching through space to open a portal.

    Ben simply grunted as he launched an icicle through the air, spearing one of the bat creatures through the wing. As it plummeted out of sight, his aura intensified, the swirling storm pushing out with greater vigor.

    The portal whooshed into existence a moment later and Terry called out to Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid.

    ¡°Go!¡±

    They didn¡¯t need to speak English to understand the command. Al¡¯Ruzan gripped her hand and jumped through the portal. The tug on his aura made him flinch.

    That much mass across his maximal distance was more draining than he had expected.

    If only Jaid had listened and stayed back¡­

    Ben glanced over, waving for him to go first before launching another icicle that intercepted a diving bat creature.

    Terry didn¡¯t need to be told twice and leaped through. Turning back, he watched for the moment Ben would arrive, prepared to cut off the portal as quick as possible.

    When the man leaped through, it was with one of the creatures latched onto his back. Terry gasped in surprise, cutting off the portal.

    Ben didn¡¯t panic at the attached creature, instead reaching up calmly with one hand and ripping it free. It squirmed and shrieked in his grip, until he grabbed its neck and twisted it violently.

    The earsplitting cry cut off instantly.

    With the portal gone, there was no light to illuminate their surroundings. Terry used Master of Light to brighten his own vision, then immediately gasped.

    Two red eyes peered back at them from the other side of the cave. It moved forward, bringing the rest of its body into stark relief.

    At first, his brain refused to process the creature. It seemed to defy his understanding of what biology was capable of. Mismatched limbs carried it forward, a long, lumpy tail trailing behind. Its jaw appeared to be made up of two different creatures, the top half long and pointy, while the lower half was wide with large tusks arcing out.

    He realized that it was like the patches back in Wichita. But instead of human, ghoul, and other parts, it was an amalgam of Underworld creatures.

    Once the moment of surprise faded, he felt his breath catch and he lifted his hand to draw the others¡¯ attention.

    ¡°Uh, Ben¡­¡±

    His uncle turned to follow Terry¡¯s finger and the creature took that moment to pounce. As it lunged toward Ben, the man reached his hands up on instinct and grasped its mismatched jaws. The weight of its leap sent the two of them rolling, but Ben came out on top, his hands turning blue-white as ice began to coat them.

    Two cinderblock-sized ice gauntlets rained down on the creature, causing it to scurry away with a hiss. At first glance, it seemed like it had nowhere to go. But as it reached the far wall, it scaled the rock, perching high up like a sunbathing lizard.

    ¡°Go!¡± Ben hissed.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: Go!

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid got the message, turning to the only exit from the creature¡¯s lair. It was a narrow slit in the surrounding rock, just wide enough for the creature to slide through.

    Terry followed behind them, not willing to abandon Ben to the creature.

    He watched as it leaped from the wall, moving incredibly fast for its size. Ben met it with a colossal ice-encased hand, smashing its face to the side as it just missed colliding with him.

    ¡°Come on, Ben!¡± Terry cried, his voice echoing through the cave.

    Ben raced to the crack, but instead of slipping through behind Terry, he turned and stirred his aura.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    But as soon as the words left his mouth, the wall of sleet formed in the chokepoint, closing off the creature¡¯s access.

    Even through the forming blue-white wall, Terry could see the thing stumbling to its feet. The ice was forming at a supernatural pace, but it was obvious it wasn¡¯t thick enough to hold under the charging weight of the huge beast.

    Terry reached for his own aura, his senses forming a connection with space nearby. As the creature spotted them through the thin ice wall, he prepared to form a bridge through that space.

    Ben pushed more aura into forming the ice, but seemed to realize at the last minute that it wouldn¡¯t be enough. He abandoned his magic and anchored his feet, bracing for impact.

    As the creature leaped through the air, a portal cut across space directly in its path. He felt the impact of its bulk pull at his aura, then resist. With a start, he realized that it was only partially inside his portal, its back legs and tail visibly struggling outside of the blue-white oval.

    More and more aura was pulled from his reserves and he could feel it struggling, resisting the portal with its considerable aura and physical power.

    ¡°Shut it!¡± Ben barked.

    Terry went to sever the connection and in turn sever the creature in half. But as he tried to pull his aura away, the beast somehow kept it open, its sheer presence blocking the portal from snapping shut.

    In all the time he¡¯d been using portals, he¡¯d never felt someone keep it open against his will. Then again, he¡¯d never had someone stuck half-in-half-out before.

    He pushed more aura into the construct, willing it to slam shut on the wiggling creature. Its struggling intensified and he saw it slowly pushing its way back out of the oval with its hind legs.

    More aura rushed in as he gritted his teeth.

    This is my portal. I¡¯m its master, not you!

    He thought of Marlon, the sheer finesse coupled perfectly with the raw arrogance. That was a piece of the man¡¯s personality, he realized; a part of the mastery was the arrogance. The unalienable belief that you were the master of space, not whoever passed through it.

    He pushed harder, feeling the portal tightening, the framework collapsing. His mind flashed to his fight with Al¡¯Ruzan, that micro portal snipping across one of his digits.

    This wasn¡¯t any different than that in concept, only in scale.

    More aura rushed in and the edges of the creature began to part, the oval cutting into its flesh.

    He couldn¡¯t hear its cries of pain, but he could imagine them as its kicking became desperate. As the last of his aura poured into the portal, he took a step forward, willing it to shut once and for all.

    The blue-white oval snapped closed, bisecting the creature like a headman¡¯s axe. Its lower half flopped to the floor, still kicking as intestines and blood oozed out.

    Silence reigned in the dark, except for Terry¡¯s heaving breaths and the still-scrabbling claws on the stone ground. A hand touched his shoulder, making him flinch. Before he knew it, he was reaching for his aura, readying a portal to slice through the new assailant.

    His eyes snapped to Ben¡¯s face and he pulled back the attack in surprise.

    ¡°It¡¯s over,¡± the man said softly. ¡°Well done.¡±

    The aura drain suddenly pulled at him, sapping his limbs of strength. He found a nearby wall and sagged against it.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m spent.¡± He didn¡¯t want to admit it, but slamming the portal shut on the creature had taken most of his aura. ¡°I need to recharge before I can send us to the next layer.¡±

    Even in the dark, he could see Ben¡¯s nod.

    ¡°Take your time, Terry.¡±

    The man turned toward Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: Al¡¯Ruzan, can you scout the surrounding tunnels? We don¡¯t want to be caught by surprise while Terry recoups.

    </blockquote>

    Terry half expected the Duelist to buck against being ordered, but instead, Al¡¯Ruzan inclined his head, then took off into the dark.

    Beside where he had been standing, Mara-Lin-Jaid stared toward Terry with arms crossed.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: That was foolish. You should have let the A-ranker take care of the beast. Now we will lose precious time waiting for you.

    </blockquote>

    The vitriol in that statement imbued him with a fury he wouldn¡¯t have thought he had the energy for.

    ¡°Foolish!¡± he demanded. ¡°Foolish? What about you, huh? Didn¡¯t see that one coming, did ya?¡± He scoffed, turning away. ¡°The dead weight has the gall to call me foolish.¡±

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Whatever recriminations you have for me, it doesn¡¯t make my words any less true.

    </blockquote>

    She waved a hand toward Ben.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: He was never in any danger. In that chokepoint, with his powers and physical attributes, it would have been a quick fight.

    </blockquote>

    Taking a step toward him, her eyebrows rose.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Instead, you burned through all your power and we are forced to wait here while you recover. Perhaps those precious minutes are the difference between our friends surviving or falling to the sanguine?

    </blockquote>

    Anger fueled a renewal of energy and he burst to his feet so that they were face-to-face. Caustic words lingered on his tongue, then died out.

    With a sigh, he closed his eyes.

    He felt Ben approach, the calming weight of his hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°Her bedside manner¡¯s atrocious.¡± He paused. ¡°But she¡¯s right. I would have beaten that thing eventually.¡±

    Terry felt something loosen inside of him, some hold on his chest that he hadn¡¯t realized was there until just this moment.

    ¡°I know she¡¯s right,¡± he said to Ben.

    With a shake of his head, he crafted the message that made his nose furrow.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay, you¡¯re right. I see it now.

    </blockquote>

    She nodded so matter-of-factly that he felt his annoyance flare. As she turned, he gripped her arm.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: But here¡¯s something I was right about: you¡¯re dead weight on this mission.

    </blockquote>

    Her eyes trailed down to his grip, then up to his eyes. Perhaps she thought that stern look might have deterred him some other time. But she¡¯d given him the hard truth, so he¡¯d dish it right back at her.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: So far, you haven¡¯t given us one useful insight. Everything I¡¯ve ever heard you say hasn¡¯t been until after it would have been relevant. On top of that, you can¡¯t defend yourself like Al¡¯Ruzan or I can, meaning we have to actively protect you when we should be going on the offensive.

    </blockquote>

    He released her arm, shaking his head.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: As far as I can tell, your visions are as useful as flipping a coin. I mean, come on, giant Frankenstein monster didn¡¯t come up at any point?

    </blockquote>

    Her steely gaze stared back into his eyes, not a flicker of doubt to be seen. She turned and approached the nearest wall, resting her back against it and sliding to her heels.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Time will tell.

    </blockquote>

    She closed her eyes, leaning her head back.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Wake me when we¡¯re ready to move.

    </blockquote>

 B2 - Chapter 38: Lightbringer

    It took an agonizing twenty or so minutes before Terry¡¯s aura recovered enough for him to feel confident in reaching the next layer.

    He summoned Al¡¯Ruzan back with a message and began reaching down through space.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s eyes snapped open and she burst to her feet, distracting him.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Hurry, Terry.

    </blockquote>

    He turned to look back at her, letting his annoyance shine through.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What is it now?

    </blockquote>

    The convenience of her making sudden proclamations had his teeth clenching tight.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Our window for the next layer is closing. If we don¡¯t get there now¡­

    </blockquote>

    He wanted to dismiss her statement as theatrics or some sort of power play after their earlier argument. But the wide-eyed look on her face seemed to be real.

    Either Mara-Lin-Jaid was an amazing actress¡ªand a sociopath. Or¡­

    He pushed his aura deeper, reaching for the layer with an urgency that he didn¡¯t really feel. But humoring the woman cost him nothing, so he fanned his senses out wide.

    The first couple of waypoints had been difficult to pin down. Crimson Spear¡¯s senses and memory weren¡¯t human, making it tough to navigate with nothing but his aura.

    But he was beginning to feel a connection to those memories, something about re-visiting them in the present was anchoring them in his mind. He wouldn¡¯t have been able to draw a map through the Underworld, but he felt confident that he was narrowing down the general locations much faster now.

    When he found the waypoint with his aura, he wasted no time opening the portal. Just to be safe, he anchored another portal in the reverse direction, allowing them to see what lay beyond.

    Unlike everywhere else in the Underworld, it was incredibly bright on this layer. Brilliant yellow-red light spread through the portal, illuminating their small cave painfully.

    Ben, Mara-Lin-Jaid, and Terry all stared through that secondary portal with trepidation.

    A lake of lava spread out before them, the heat emanating through the portal enough to make sweat bead on Terry¡¯s forehead.

    Right on the edge of his first portal, a small stretch of rock jutted up from the lava. It was clear from the way the stone arced toward another column before suddenly ending that there had once been connective tissue between the columns sitting in the lava. Something had eroded them in the time since Crimson Spear had made this journey.

    Before anyone could point out the obvious issue with this waypoint, Mara-Lin-Jaid was through the first portal, appearing on the far side through the viewing port of the second portal.

    A cry of warning died on Terry¡¯s lips as she visibly waved them through, her eyes narrowed with pain.

    Terry heard pounding footsteps down the tunnel and turned to see Al¡¯Ruzan rushing toward them. He was about to message the giant that Mara-Lin-Jaid had gone through, when the Duelist bypassed the two of them and took the portal without a halting moment.

    Ben and Terry looked at each other in surprise and weary resignation.

    ¡°I should be able to hold off the heat for a few minutes. But you¡¯ll need to work fast.¡±

    Terry nodded, bracing himself for the heat, and stepped through.

    As he appeared on the other side, a wall of heat hit him like a charging sanguine. He staggered at the stifling pressure, every breath scalding his lungs.

    When Ben came through, he closed the two portals and got to work on finding the next layer.

    A rush of cool air burst forth from Ben, but it was quickly overwhelmed by the sauna-like surroundings.

    As his senses ranged down, he felt sweat dripping down his back, his shirt clinging to his skin. If he wasn¡¯t occupied with searching for the next waypoint, he might have been able to hold off the heat with Master of Light. But as it was, he was forced to suffer while he searched.

    He felt Ben stirring his aura, struggling to hold off the scorching air and couldn¡¯t help but recognize that they were working with a time limit.

    His senses followed the path laid out in Crimson Spear¡¯s memory, tracing down to the edges of his capabilities. He sifted through the area, feeling a familiarity almost immediately that filled him with hope.

    As he narrowed it down further, he couldn¡¯t help but feel like the heat was rising, despite Ben¡¯s best efforts.

    ¡°Is it just me,¡± he said through gritted teeth, ¡°or is it hotter than when we arrived?¡±

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Please hurry, Terry!

    </blockquote>

    He maintained his focus, but cast her a dark look. What do you think I¡¯m¡ª

    His thoughts cut off as he saw the three of them squeezing in tight near the center of the rock column. All around them, the lava was visibly rising. When they arrived, it had been halfway up the hundred foot tall column. Now, it appeared to have climbed another twenty feet at least.

    Oh, shit¡­

    He redoubled his efforts, focusing his aura in tight. He was close¡ªhe could feel it, somehow.

    But then Mara-Lin-Jaid cried out in pain. His eyes cut over to see Al¡¯Ruzan on his knees, his body visibly smoking as he wrapped the woman up tight with his arms. Ben had his hands held upright, his face pinched with effort.

    He realized that Ben was centering his magic around Terry, giving him the space to work. If he didn¡¯t open the portal in the next few seconds, Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid would be boiled alive.

    Making a judgment call, he cut through space, though he knew he hadn¡¯t quite found Crimson Spear¡¯s waypoint. It was close enough that he could make another jump there if they found something hostile on the other side.

    The blue-white portal rippled through the air and he cried out toward the group.

    As soon as he opened his mouth, searing heat coated his throat, turning his shout into more of a croak.

    ¡°Go!¡±

    Al¡¯Ruzan had to physically pick Mara-Lin-Jaid up and carry her through the portal. Behind them, Ben gave a quick nod for Terry to go first.

    As he leaped through the portal, the sudden transition from scorching air to the cool, damp atmosphere on the other side of the portal caused a strange reaction in his body.

    His lungs spasmed as he gasped for air, the cold stabbing as it made its way down his throat. He felt his pulse beating erratically and a sense of wooziness gripped him.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    But his body¡¯s reaction was nothing compared to Mara-Lin-Jaid. She was collapsed on the ground, her body smoking as she convulsed. Al¡¯Ruzan wasn¡¯t much better, though he was on one knee, his hands clutching the woman with a helpless fervor.

    Summoning his aura, he activated Master of Light and began controlling the infrared light around the two of them, regulating it so that the extreme temperature shift didn¡¯t overwhelm their bodies.

    Ben appeared a moment later, the pull on his aura signaling his arrival. Terry cut the aura connection, and the blue-white light disappeared.

    It took him a moment to realize that the area they¡¯d entered hadn¡¯t darkened¡ªthere was still some light source illuminating the four of them.

    He flinched in surprise when he spotted two dozen ghouls encircling them with weapons drawn. Another half dozen liches flanked, their auras already summoned.

    Any other time, he might have been buoyed by the sight of the familiar undead. But something about their auras and demeanors told him that their party¡¯s presence was less than appreciated.

    Discreetly, he began to reach down to the next layer, hoping to avoid any conflict.

    A deep ghoulish voice rang out, full of power and confidence.

    ¡°If the Outsiders do not release their auras, their lives are forfeit!¡±

    Terry hesitated, glancing back at Ben. Al¡¯Ruzan looked up in confusion, not understanding the ghoulish words.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± Terry asked his uncle softly.

    The man¡¯s eyes traced over the hostile group, locking on the liches to either side.

    ¡°Listen to them, Terry.¡± His tone was cautious, but not resigned.

    ¡°If you can hold them off¡ª¡±

    Ben shook his head once. ¡°The liches can disrupt your aura, then we¡¯ll be trapped and forced to fight.¡±

    ¡°This is your last warning!¡±

    Terry studied his uncle¡¯s face for one more moment, felt his aura retract, and sighed. He followed suit, releasing his own aura.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: What is happening, Terry?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I think we¡¯re being taken prisoner. Ben says they have a means of disrupting my portals, so we have to play nice for now.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Will they impede our progress?

    </blockquote>

    Terry looked around, surveying the undead. Ghoulish expressions were never easy to read, but over the years, he¡¯d come to understand their postures better than most.

    Ghouls didn¡¯t bluff¡ªthat much was certain¡ªbut he got the impression from their stances that they¡¯d only attack if provoked. Whether that meant they¡¯d imprison his group indefinitely, he couldn¡¯t say.

    But whatever the case, they wouldn¡¯t be able to break free in this moment; the only play was to go along with their orders.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I can¡¯t say. But fighting now would only end with our deaths. Let¡¯s wait and see.

    </blockquote>

    Judging from Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s face, he wasn¡¯t pleased with the answer. But he didn¡¯t make a move, which Terry was thankful for.

    As the ghouls pressed in, a gap in their ranks formed, revealing three ghoul elders standing behind them. They were just as tall as Crimson Spear, their auras noticeable even from a distance. The two on either side had ivory torcs around their arms, while the elder in the middle had another around his neck and a long, black blade strapped to his back.

    The three of them strode forward, the middle ghoul with the black sword leading a half-step ahead of the others.

    Ben stepped past Terry, who belatedly followed the man. Al¡¯Ruzan rose, casting intimidating looks all around as he stood over Mara-Lin-Jaid, who had yet to fully recover.

    As they approached, the leader clacked his jagged teeth.

    ¡°Who are you interlopers? How have you made it to the Depths without passing our vassal Clans?¡±

    Ben stared into the leader¡¯s eyes, no hint of fear or hesitation in his expression.

    ¡°We have writ from Crimson Spear of the Bloodsplatter Clan. Our mission¡ª¡±

    He cut off as the sound of crunching teeth echoed throughout the cave. The elders didn¡¯t react but Terry could feel their auras expressing their surprise and anger.

    The leader leaned forward, his eyes level with Ben¡¯s. Terry could feel the barely restrained violence in the ghoul¡¯s posture.

    ¡°We do not mention that disgraced Clan. They have failed our people and have been exiled to the Surface.¡± The elder seemed to study Ben¡¯s face, looking for some reaction, before returning upright. ¡°They have sent you to your death.¡±

    His aura pulsed out, echoing his words. Terry felt the ghouls react, their spears pushing forward to close in the ring of metal.

    Al¡¯Ruzan growled, pulling his own ghoulish spear from his back and whirled toward the nearest ghouls.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: Hold!

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan didn¡¯t glance toward the man, but he also didn¡¯t lunge into the nearest foe.

    ¡°You did not let me finish,¡± Ben said, his aura shaping into an insistent gesture that conveyed importance. ¡°We are on a holy mission and shall not be impeded by Children of the Mother.¡±

    The elder on the left bared jagged teeth, stepping forward menacingly.

    ¡°An interloper, an invader from another world, dares to speak of the Mother?¡±

    The leader held out a hand, shaping his aura in a way so that Terry couldn¡¯t read the gesture. The other elder backed away immediately, bowing his head in deference.

    As the leader regarded Ben, Terry could feel the appraising nature of his look. The ghoul took a moment before speaking.

    ¡°Your words are all correct, interloper. But tell me, have you been coached what to say, like a tyghu mimicking its owner, hm?¡± He tilted his head, his slick red lips peeling back to reveal his jagged teeth. ¡°What do you know of the Mother, or her Children?¡±

    Terry watched Ben out of the corner of his eye, afraid to look away from the elders and have it be misinterpreted as fear or disrespect. His uncle was utterly still, reminding him of the way ghouls could stand without flicking a muscle for hours.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What¡¯s going on?

    </blockquote>

    Ben didn¡¯t respond, spiking Terry¡¯s anxiety.

    The leader continued to stare at Ben as the man remained completely motionless. Terry feared his uncle had run out of words or was inexplicably frozen with indecision. He almost interjected in a desperate bid to save them all, but the ghoul leader raised his head before Terry could act.

    It was a subtle tilt, a gesture that he recognized, had seen before but couldn¡¯t place.

    He was racking his memories, trying to recall when he had seen the ghouls of Wichita make a similar gesture.

    The moment seemed to stretch through time, extending well past when humans would have broken their gaze or fidgeted uncomfortably. Yet Ben continued to remain stoically frozen, not even the rise and fall of his chest to indicate breath.

    Terry flicked his eyes between the two, not understanding the dynamic playing out before him.

    When the ghoul leader broke the impasse, Terry let out a deep breath, as if he had been the one holding it in.

    ¡°Someone has taught you to be still, then,¡± the elder said. ¡°And you speak the language of the Underworld like a native. Curious¡­¡±

    The same elder on the left spoke up.

    ¡°That proves nothing¡ª¡±

    Aura flashed from the leader, overwhelming the shapes of the other elder.

    ¡°They may not be of the Children,¡± the leader replied, his eyes holding Ben¡¯s for another beat before turning to the elder at his side. ¡°But it has garnered the Outsiders the right to speak.¡±

    The vocal elder inclined his head in deference and the leader turned back to them. His aura ranged out as he indicated the quiet elder on his left.

    Aura pushed forward, the leader introducing his subordinate by name. It was directed first toward Ben, then passed over Terry. The images he saw were powerful, more direct and prideful than Weeping Rock, but younger than Crimson Spear. Terry didn¡¯t know if that was a matter of age or rank, but he pushed the thoughts from his mind as he absorbed the elders¡¯ name-shapes.

    The first image was that of the ghoul himself clutching tight to the dark ceiling of a cave. His eyes were closed, his chest unmoving. Somehow, Terry knew that the ghoul had his eyes closed to prevent the reflection of light on his pupils.

    Another image flashed, that of the ghoul dropping below, his bone-claws latching onto the back of some unknown creature.

    There wasn¡¯t a hardcoded name to the images¡ªthere never was with the ghouls¡ªbut he still felt like the sensations and memories formed a cohesive title that conveyed the ghoul¡¯s name.

    In this case, Terry referred to him as Silent Death.

    The leader paused a moment, letting them digest the name-shapes, before indicating the outspoken ghoul on his right. More images appeared in Terry¡¯s mind, conveying a sense of momentum and violence. It was a confusing series of memories where the elder fought off multiple attackers with spinning movements that defied the eye.

    After the images stopped, he interpreted the sensations and feelings into a name¡ªWhirling Bone.

    When both flanking elders had been introduced, they turned to their leader and projected their auras as one.

    The depth of the images eclipsed the simple sensations of Whirling Bone or Silent Death. A kaleidoscope of emotions, fights, triumphs¡ªand defeats¡ªflickered through his mind. None of them seemed to have any bearing on the leader¡¯s actual name, but instead served as a catalog of his deeds that rang out as a sort of ode to his leadership.

    When the shapes began to dissipate, a single image appeared¡ªthe same obsidian sword strapped to the leader¡¯s back visible in Terry¡¯s mind. After a moment, the sword faded, revealing their clan name.

    He knew instinctively that this clan was the Fleshripper Clan, and that their leader was Obsidian Blade. There was a weight to his name that felt old, giving the impression of centuries, not decades.

    As the two elders released their aura, Terry wondered about the rules of the greetings. While the elders had been introduced, then introduced their leader, none of the other ghouls in attendance had let out so much as a flicker of aura.

    Since the weaker elders had been introduced by Obsidian Blade, did that mean he or Al¡¯Ruzan needed to introduce Mara-Lin-Jaid? Was Ben supposed to introduce them?

    Did any of them even warrant an introduction?

    A glance back revealed the girl was unconscious, though the movement of her chest showed she was still alive. Al¡¯Ruzan was still eyeing the surrounding ghouls like he was waiting for them to attack, so Terry decided he would just introduce Ben as the elders had done for Obsidian Blade.

    But as he opened his mouth to speak, Ben shaped his aura first.

    He might have thought he had misunderstood the order of things, or perhaps Terry hadn¡¯t proved himself to the ghouls and therefore it wasn¡¯t appropriate for him to introduce Ben.

    Then, he saw the memories Ben was pushing out and felt his mouth open in shock.

    It was an image of him! Through Ben¡¯s aura, he saw flashes of himself running through the liminal layer¡¯s chasm as the sanguine swarmed. Brief glimpses of the sanguine filtered through¡ªa thousand and more¡ªas they prepared to dive upon the remnants of the Bloodsplatter Clan.

    Then, he saw his hands raise, his face clenched tight in concentration. Blinding, yellow-white brilliance seemed to burst forth, as if summoned by gods themselves. The flying sanguine were shredded by the flowing light, turning to ash before dusting the rocks below.

    When the vision ended, Terry found himself staring at Ben in shock.

    The name Ben had given¡ªhis name¡ªwas Lightbringer¡­

 B2 - Chapter 39: Hoverboard Gambit

    Terry¡¯s world froze, the emotions of the realization that Ben had named him Lightbringer nearly overwhelming him. His chest clenched at the thought and he forced himself to turn from Ben to find anything else to look at.

    He turned his eyes to Obsidian Blade, and found the leader¡¯s gaze locked onto him.

    ¡°You have named him?¡± Obsidian Blade asked, never taking his eyes off of Terry.

    The weight of that stare seemed to pin him in place, but he felt a sense of pride that wouldn¡¯t let him bend or turn away.

    I have a ghoulish name¡­

    He had never expected or needed to be named by the ghouls of Wichita; he was prince to them, though he would have preferred Terry.

    But now he understood the importance not only of earning a name, but being given one. His thoughts flashed back to when he had first named Crunch. He hadn¡¯t been adept enough to read the ghoul¡¯s emotions or reactions, but in hindsight, the ghoul had possessed an obvious pride with his name. One that belayed the mundane nature of the word crunch.

    A sense of silliness washed over him as he realized that pre-teen Terry had named all his closest friends with innocuous names. Crunch, Bloodstain, Burgundy¡­

    And yet, they had never balked or indicated anything but pride with their given names. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t the content of the name that mattered, but the relationship between the giver and receiver.

    He shook himself from the emotions, giving Ben one thankful look before shaping his own aura.

    In his mind, he held the image that he¡¯d seen before¡ªBen standing at the center of a raging blizzard. All around him, icy death whirled, but never touched the man. Not only was he safe from the danger¡ªhe was the danger. Terry latched onto that idea, forming it into the aura as best he could.

    It wasn¡¯t exactly as he recalled from the one time Ben had given it, but he knew intuitively that he had still done the name justice.

    He presented Ben to the elders with his ghoul moniker, Lord of Ice.

    When he was done, he released his aura, waiting for the ghouls to react or for Ben to speak. He felt his uncle looking at him and glanced up to meet his gaze. There was an appraising look there and Terry lifted his eyebrows subtly in question.

    Before he could parse Ben¡¯s expression, Obsidian Blade spoke.

    ¡°Powerful given names.¡± He looked past them to Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid. ¡°The oversized spawnling seems on the verge of violence. While I would never begrudge an excited youth a release, I imagine you would like to tend to your injured spawnling?¡±

    Ben nodded, confirming the gesture with an aura shape.

    ¡°If you can spare the Blood.¡±

    Terry¡¯s head whipped up in surprise, then he schooled his expression as best he could. He hadn¡¯t expected Ben to be so bold after the two groups had nearly come to blows. But it seemed Ben¡ªand in some small way, Terry¡ªhad passed some sort of challenge.

    The Fleshripper Clan had welcomed them into their fold¡ªfor now, at least.

    <hr>

    Py Dar clutched the shield of bone with her four hands, imbuing her aura into the framework they had invented. At her side, Chippy floated on a smaller stretch of bone that Juan Carlos had strangely referred to as a hoverboard.

    She didn¡¯t understand the reference, but was nonetheless pleased with the result. Chippy had helped her craft the device by utilizing the aura framework they had isolated from Terry¡¯s Skill. With a constant stream of the little Savant¡¯s aura, he was now able to float on the hoverboard, even directing it by triggering certain sections of the framework.

    With her hands freed up now from carrying Chippy, she was able to work as the group performed a fighting retreat.

    Juan¡¯s fire arced past her face, singing one of her olfactory antenna ends, causing her to cry out in surprise.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Juan Carlos! That was one of my primary antennae you nearly burned off!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Sorry!

    </blockquote>

    Another fireball flashed past her face, just a handspan further out than the previous one.

    How is an Artificer supposed to work under these conditions! she complained.

    Her third donor would have told her that genius can only be fully realized with a sword held above the creatant¡¯s neck.

    She wondered if her third donor had ever had a swarm of bloodsucking sanguine hounding him while he worked¡ªat a run!

    The group¡¯s attempt to penetrate through the liminal layer leading to the fourth of seven layers had failed. Sanguine forces had blocked the path with boulders that stretched ten ghouls high, impeding their passage the entire way down.

    Despite that, they¡¯d managed to fight their way through, only to find the narrow passage leading to the fourth layer had been completely collapsed. Crimson Spear had signaled a retreat and passed aura images that had given the non-natives the sense of an alternate route.

    The ghoul elder had been very particular in his hand gestures, pointing to Chippy¡¯s hoverboard, before offering another bone shield that a ghoul had been using.

    It only took Py a moment to understand that the elder wanted her to create another, larger version, of the hoverboard.

    As they fought their way back up the liminal layer, she fought her aura¡ªand rising panic¡ªto rearrange the aura of the shield into the necessary framework.

    Sanguine fliers continuously harassed the group, darting from the inky black with nothing but the rush of wind to signal them. Juan managed to throw balls of fire every minute or so to illuminate the attackers, but she could sense his aura draining faster than it recovered.

    But the sanguine were ultimately no match for the powerful ghouls¡ªnot in the scant numbers that they were currently attacking. It seemed that by closing off access to the lower layers, they¡¯d effectively cut off their own reinforcements.

    As a result, they came in small bursts of three or four, rather than the hundreds of the previous layers.

    When the group reached the top of the liminal layer, the ghoul leader pointed to Juan, then out toward the yawning chasm stretching before them. Juan nodded and sent a fireball arcing through the dark.

    Py felt her antennae twitch as she finally understood the plan.

    Across a hundred feet of open space, a rock column jutted up into the air. Faintly past that, she saw another column stretching in the distance.

    More sanguine attacks swept down upon them, the ghoul spears launching with a burst of aura to strike them from the air.

    The ghoul leader turned to her, then indicated the shield of bone in her hands.

    Pressure settled on her shoulders, her antennae twitching and her limbs vibrating uncontrollably. She pushed away those physical sensations, focusing utterly on manipulating the aura of the bone shield to create a moving platform¡ªone they could use to reach the distant stone columns.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    The words of her third donor rattled unwanted in her head once more¡ªgenius can only be fully realized with a sword held above the creatant¡¯s neck.

    She had never liked her third donor.

    <hr>

    Despite the sense of urgency infecting his limbs¡ªnot only for their mission, but for the sake of Mara-Lin-Jaid¡ªthe Fleshsplitter Clan would not be hurried. They encircled the group, Al¡¯Ruzan carrying the injured Seer as Ben and Terry walked side by side.

    The currents of the surrounding ghouls¡¯ auras were unsettled, an obvious disagreement passing between them. They managed to keep the specifics shielded from their group, but he couldn¡¯t help but catch glimpses of the silent argument.

    Outsiders in our home, was one impression.

    But initiated in our ways, given a holy name!

    By Surface dwellers! What weight is there in that?

    A turbulent wave of aura passed among the ghouls at that, giving Terry the impression that most did not agree with the last sentiment. Despite their status as second-class citizens among the ghouls of this layer, there was still a sanctity among the name-giving of the Surface ghouls.

    The silent conversation settled as Obsidian Blade led them toward what Terry could only describe as a temple. Crimson Spear¡¯s clan had crafted an impressive entrance to their Evolution Chamber given the circumstances and considering the time they had lived there.

    But the display before them now beggared the Bloodsplatter Clan¡¯s best efforts.

    Two dozen sandstone columns stretched up to the top of the cavern, flanking the entrance to the Fleshripper Clan¡¯s Evolution Chamber. Each column was intricately carved with geometric shapes that he realized must be some sort of language. They were small, almost hieroglyphic in nature, trailing up the columns in a swirling pattern that made it difficult for his human eyes to follow.

    Past the columns were massive ivory doors that appeared to be carved from the bones of some behemoth. At first glance, the images on the door¡¯s surface seemed to be nonsensical. But as they moved closer, he realized that the images carved into the bone were just so small as to be unreadable from a distance.

    Even close up, the tops of the doors were too far to get a good glimpse at the story seemingly told by the carvings. But at the bottom of the doors, he was able to examine the images a bit closer.

    It seemed as if the carvings were telling a story of the loss of the Lakarot. A font of some liquid that spouted high into the air in one image was now depleted in the next. Stemming from that, the ghouls in the next carving were at war, fighting sanguine, draugrs, and even other ghouls.

    The final image seemed to indicate a sort of diaspora, a united front of ghouls spreading to the far ends of the Underworld as their source of life slowly dried up.

    He was pulled from his examination by a slight scuffle behind him. Turning, he saw two ghouls approaching Al¡¯Ruzan to take Mara-Lin-Jaid. But the big Duelist growled in response, eliciting a hostile stance from the nearby ghouls.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Tell them to back off!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Calm down! They¡¯re going to heal her using the same method they used to heal me. It¡¯s a huge show of trust.

    </blockquote>

    That you¡¯re ruining, he didn¡¯t say.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: I will carry her.

    </blockquote>

    ¡°What¡¯s the fool doing?¡± Ben asked with a scowl.

    Terry sighed. ¡°He doesn¡¯t want to leave her. Is it possible for him to carry her in?¡±

    Ben furrowed his nose, then turned toward Obsidian Blade. The moment he asked the question, Whirling Bone took a hostile step toward Al¡¯Ruzan.

    ¡°Tell this spawnling that he sorely tests our generosity!¡± The raw disgust in the elder¡¯s aura was a physical thing that even Al¡¯Ruzan couldn¡¯t have missed. ¡°Give the weak one over to receive the Mother¡¯s Blessing. Or don¡¯t, and let it die!¡±

    The tension among the group ratcheted higher, Al¡¯Ruzan not understanding the words but reading the intent just fine. He angled his body to encompass as many of the flanking ghouls as possible, preparing for an ambush rather than giving in to the demands.

    Terry might have cursed the giant for being a fool, but he understood just how confused and alienated Al¡¯Ruzan was feeling. Not only could he not understand the exchanges that had been happening for the past few minutes, but he also was carrying his dying friend in his arms. Being ordered to give her up to these hostile strangers was a tall ask.

    For a moment, he remained silent, wondering if Ben or perhaps Obsidian Blade would interject and override Whirling Bone¡¯s proclamation. But Ben seemed resigned to the ultimatum, simply shaking his head, while Obsidian Blade said nothing to contradict his subordinate.

    Taking a risk, Terry stepped forward.

    ¡°Would it be acceptable if I carried her into the Chamber? I¡¯ve been inside the Bonesplinter¡¯s Chamber and witnessed the Promise of Return. I even received the Mother¡¯s Blessing after fighting the sanguine in defense of the Bloodsplatter Clan.¡±

    A confusing mix of aura passed among the ghoul elders and he had difficulty determining if it was a positive or negative reaction.

    Whirling Bone¡ªwho Terry had realized was determined to undermine them at every turn¡ªspoke first.

    ¡°See how Lightbringer lies? Perhaps these ones are spies of the exiles, sent to trick us from our store of Blood?¡±

    Just as Whirling Bone projected disgust and disbelief with both his aura and words, Terry likewise pushed his sincerity and honesty through the shape of his aura.

    ¡°I defer to the elder¡¯s wisdom on matters of the Children. But in this instance, I tell the truth.¡±

    Before Whirling Bone could respond, Silent Death shaped his aura, pushing it forward in a ghoulish way of taking the floor.

    ¡°Tell us of your experience with the Bonesplinter Clan. We had thought them lost to sanguine raids many cycles past.¡±

    He was a bit surprised to realize they were familiar with the Wichitan ghouls. In all his time among them, he had never fully learned the story of their arrival on Earth. There were carvings in the Evolution Chamber door, as well as the Awakening Chamber, that depicted stories¡ªmostly of his grandfather¡¯s journey in the Underworld. But as a child, they had scared him more than anything.

    Thinking back, he wracked his brain trying to remember those stories now.

    ¡°My grandfather¡ª¡± The word was different in ghoulish, more akin to the word and shape they used for elder, but he thought it sufficient. ¡°¡ªwas summoned to your world as I was, long ago. The details are lost to me, but I know that a pact was formed between him and the Bonesplinter Clan. They returned to my world with him¡­¡± He hesitated, wondering if they would be offended by this next part, yet realizing that any deception would not go unnoticed. ¡°They serve him¡­as vassals.¡±

    He felt the shock from Silent Death and many of the surrounding ghouls, but from Whirling Bone, he felt only anger and denial.

    ¡°You claim that an Outsider rules over the Bonesplinter Clan!¡± Whirling Bone took a threatening step forward and Ben angled himself in front of Terry, staring the ghoul down. Their eyes met in open challenge.

    ¡°It does sound possible,¡± Silent Death said. ¡°They did disappear without even a trace of their bodies or their wealth of Blood.¡±

    Terry nodded, latching onto that single idea.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen it¡ªtheir cache of the Mother¡¯s Blood is vast, stretching further than I can even see.¡±

    A ripple of shock ranged among the ghouls, but was cutoff instantly by a pulse from Obsidian Blade.

    ¡°You¡¯ve interacted with them then? What was their leader¡¯s name?¡±

    He felt his stomach drop at the question. As a child, he¡¯d never even known they had ghoulish names, let alone how to sense them. By the time he¡¯d figured it out, he had only been introduced to a single individual of the Clan.

    ¡°I was uninitiated¡ª¡± He used the word Silent Death had used earlier, not quite sure if it was accurate. ¡°¡ªso was too ignorant to learn his name.¡± He felt Whirling Bone¡¯s smug arrogance through his aura. ¡°But I did meet a lich who instructed me on the purpose of the Promise of Return. His name was Hoping Tree.¡± Terry pushed the images forward with the word, eliciting a surprised sound from somewhere behind him.

    He looked to see the group of liches turning their hooded gazes toward each other, the ripple of shock in their aura ranging out plain to read.

    Obsidian Blade sent his aura forward in response. ¡°Speak.¡±

    One of the liches inclined its hooded head, stepping forward.

    ¡°This one is known to us. Before the Bonesplinter Clan¡¯s disappearance, this lich was a colleague of ours.¡±

    Terry felt his heart lift at those words, turning to see how Obsidian Blade would react. The ghouls rarely, if ever, let their thoughts show on their faces. But he could feel the ghoul leader¡¯s aura react, shaping into a form that Terry read as acceptance.

    ¡°This could be information passed by those exiles on the Surface!¡± Whirling Bone turned toward his fellow elders, his aura boiling with disbelief. ¡°A ploy to sneak them into our good¡ª¡±

    Silent Death¡¯s aura shot forward, interrupting the elder.

    ¡°Can you not read his aura, if not his words? There is no hint of deception or calculation in this Outsider¡¯s aura.¡± Silent Death turned to face Whirling Bone. ¡°One would think you had some specific reason to implicate these Outsiders¡ª¡±

    ¡°Do not challenge me,¡± Whirling Bone hissed. His hand reached back for his spear.

    Obsidian Blade sent a pulse of aura out, disrupting Terry¡¯s senses for a moment, causing his head to swim and his eyes to fuzz. When he recovered, Whirling Bone and Silent Death had bowed their postures¡ªalong with the two dozen other members of the Fleshripper Clan.

    ¡°You shame me,¡± Obsidian Blade said quietly. ¡°You shame our Clan. Both of you leave my senses. Fight it out if you must, but do not return until I deem it appropriate.¡±

    The two dismissed elders left with a bow and it was impossible to miss the eagerness for violence in Whirling Bone¡¯s gaze. For his part, Silent Death clearly strode toward the fight, though not with his brother¡¯s excitement.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: By all the gods! What is happening, Terry!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: They¡¯re gonna heal her, but I think it has to be me that carries her in.

    </blockquote>

    He studied Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s expression at that, and though he wasn¡¯t as difficult to read as the ghouls, his alien features did make Terry wonder if that was anger or jealousy on the Duelist¡¯s face.

    After a moment, he nodded, passing Mara-Lin-Jaid over to Terry¡¯s arms.

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Protect her with your life, Terry.

    </blockquote>

    Despite his previous inability to read Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s expression, the unsaid threat of those words was clear as day in the set of his eyes.

    Protect her with your life, or yours is forfeit, was the message Terry understood.

    He nodded acknowledgment, then turned toward Obsidian Blade.

    ¡°Please,¡± he said urgently. ¡°She needs the Blood.¡±

    Obsidian Blade ranged his senses over her, feeling her aura, before turning toward the Evolution Chamber doors. Four ghouls rushed forward to peel the giant ivory doors back.

    ¡°Follow me.¡±

    Then Obsidian Blade strode through the entry and into the dark of the Chamber.

 B2 - Chapter 40: The Four Pillars

    As the final ghoul made it across the yawning chasm of the liminal layer and on to the first stone column, Py and Chippy were just finishing up the sixth bone shield hoverboard.

    The procession of ghouls were strung out across half a dozen columns, each hoverboard dedicated to one gap between the columns. Py, Chippy, and Juan were standing on the central column, surrounded by a group of ghoul bodyguards on Crimson Spear¡¯s orders. The ghoul leader had been quick to assign them a guard once he had realized that their inventions were the only way across the chasm to the alternate route.

    With the sixth hoverboard finally finished, they could start ferrying across at a much faster rate than when they¡¯d first started. Sanguine attacks were few and far between now, but a new enemy had appeared once the ghouls had started crossing the stone columns.

    A flash of aura came from Crimson Spear, a signal they had developed for Juan. The Elementalist sent a fireball arcing into the air, undirected and loose from his aura. It spread wide as it rose, unfurling like a flower to illuminate the open air above them.

    Thousands of bat-like animals swarmed, shrieking as the light from the fire momentarily blinded them. At the same time, nearly a hundred telekinetically enhanced spears launched out at nearby targets, spearing the creatures and launching past¡ªoftentimes impaling two, three, or more¡ªbefore returning to their owners.

    Chippy took the distraction to inject more aura into his personal hoverboard, drifting off the stone column and into open air. It was a particularly vulnerable sensation, drifting over a thousand-foot drop secured by nothing but his own aura. Especially so considering his people¡¯s natural predators in their prehistoric times had been a flying creature known for plucking them from the ground before dropping them to their death.

    Of course, they¡¯d eventually conquered their skies with technology and later the magic offered by their Systems. But genetic fears were visceral and Chippy was no exception.

    He squeaked in terror as his hoverboard seemed to drift forward in slow motion, despite the rush of aura he shoved into it. It arrived at the far column in mere seconds that had stretched on for eternity and he let out a triumphant cry as it once again hovered over stable ground.

    The ghoulish procession made good time with six floating shields and they fended off the flying attackers with the help of Juan¡¯s fire and the flying spears. When the final ghoul touched ground, Crimson Spear urged them forward with barely a moment to recover.

    Chippy let out a defeated squeak as he propelled his hoverboard after the ghouls.

    It was only when they entered the cover of a tunnel leading down into the next layer did he feel his glands cease their excretion.

    <hr>

    Terry went into the Evolution Chamber of the Fleshsplitter Clan alone with Mara-Lin-Jaid. Al¡¯Ruzan and Ben were forced to stay behind, leaving only a single lich and Obsidian Blade himself to accompany him.

    Unlike the Chamber back in Wichita, the doors didn¡¯t open up directly onto a beach leading to the Blood Pit, but instead stretched on, the end shrouded in dark.

    Activating Master of Light, he enhanced his vision to penetrate the inky black and was surprised to see more carvings etched into the walls and ceiling of the tunnel.

    He had a sudden urge to reach out a hand and caress the stone, almost as if he could absorb the stories told through touch alone. With Mara-Lin-Jaid in his arms, he didn¡¯t dare¡­yet there was something pulling him toward the carvings that he couldn¡¯t resist¡ªdidn¡¯t want to resist.

    With a flex of aura, he used Master of Telekinesis to hold the woman and free up his hands. It was a drain on his reserves, but he only intended to do it for a few moments.

    His hands reached out on either side, fingertips caressing the walls, running over the texture of the carvings.

    Images¡ªno, memories¡ªflashed in his mind, causing him to stumble in surprise. He nearly dropped Mara-Lin-Jaid and had to reach out and catch her as his magical hold faltered.

    Obsidian Blade glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable.

    ¡°Your senses are receptive,¡± the ghoul said. ¡°Not many Outsiders would be drawn to our history, let alone be open enough to receive the impressions.¡±

    With a firm grip on Mara-Lin-Jaid¡ªand a chagrined expression on his face as he imagined what Al¡¯Ruzan would have done had he seen that¡ªhe considered Obsidian Blade¡¯s words.

    ¡°It feels like memories were carved into the stone,¡± he said after a moment. ¡°Like when a ghoul or lich expresses their name but¡­permanent.¡±

    He felt the lich behind him reach his aura forward, its sibilant voice echoing in the tunnel.

    ¡°Everything the Blessed do is with aura. We do not create without infusing aura. We do not speak without aura. Aura is the gift of the Mother to her Children.¡±

    They walked in silence as Terry contemplated that. He was dying to delve more into the thoughts of the undead like he had never done as a child, but also was hesitant to say the wrong thing and rock the current dynamic.

    ¡°Why do you say aura is the gift of the Mother to her Children? Many creatures that are not Blessed possess and use aura¡­¡±

    He held his breath after that question, hoping he hadn¡¯t pressed his luck. The lich started to stir his aura in response when Obsidian Blade interjected.

    ¡°The Mother is giving to all¡ªeven those that are not her Children. She is generous and loving where us baser creatures are jealous and grasping. It is this understanding that drives our entire species. In our adherence to duty and sacrifice, we honor the selfless nature of the Mother.¡±

    Before he could process those words and dive deeper, they turned a corner, the narrow tunnel opening into a wide open space. Compared to the Bloodsplatter Clan, it was a trove of wealth. But compared to his memory of the Wichitan Evolution Chamber, it was basically a large swimming pool.

    For some reason, the fact that Fleshripper Clan was one of the more powerful of the ghoulish clans and this was the extent of their Blood supply made Terry sad. Like he was staring upon the dilapidated, weathered exterior of a once-grand cathedral.

    ¡°Come, Lightbringer,¡± the lich hissed. ¡°Bring the spawnling to the edge of the Pit.¡±

    Shaken from his melancholy, Terry did as he was bidden, laying Mara-Lin-Jaid on the stone edge near the pool.

    The lich pulled a brush from its robes and extended it down into the black liquid. He scraped the excess off before brushing it against the skin of her face.

    ¡°Can I ask a question?¡± Terry ventured, projecting yearning curiosity toward Obsidian Blade.

    ¡°You may.¡±

    ¡°Without the Lakarot, how does the Fleshripper Clan have such a large pool of the Mother¡¯s Blood?¡± He felt the aura among the two undead shift, though not overtly hostile. ¡°I mean no offense. It just seems that with the supply cut off, your Clan would eventually run out, no?¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°It is a long and sad tale, Lightbringer,¡± Obsidian Blade said. ¡°Our animosity for the Bloodsplatter Clan¡ªand for Outsiders in particular¡ªis not baseless. Many cycles ago, they were one of the strongest clans. The ghouls possessed dominance of the Underworld and guarded the Lakarot fiercely. We understood duty more than the sanguine, draugrs, or other lesser undead. So we shared freely of Her Blood, never hoarding or denying access.¡±

    The lich continued to coat Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s skin with the Blood as Terry listened to Obsidian Blade¡¯s tale.

    ¡°The culmination of our duty and honor was to spend a rotation of time guarding the Lakarot as a clan. Each of the major powers took this honor more seriously than anything in our culture.¡± The ghoul hesitated, a rare show of reticence in the leader. Terry perked up, clinging to every word. ¡°The Bloodsplatter Clan were in charge of that honor when a powerful Outsider arrived. In their arrogance¡ªor perhaps I am unfair, maybe it was simple naivet¨¦¡ªthey allowed the Outsider to witness the Lakarot. When the Outsider later absconded with it, the Bloodsplatter Clan were disgraced and openly attacked. Confusion reigned for many cycles and when all was settled, the sanguine had taken control of what remained of the Blood.¡±

    A wave of fury emanated from Obsidian Blade, startling Terry before he realized it wasn¡¯t directed at him.

    ¡°They hoard the Blood jealously, forcing us to beg for allotments simply to maintain our numbers. You see, those such as Whirling Bone hate the Bloodsplatter Clan because he believes their arrogance is the reason for our current disgrace. We are too few now to challenge them for possession of the Blood¡ª¡±

    Mara-Lin-Jaid shot up into a sit, a wild gasp echoing from her throat.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Terry said quickly, crouching at her side.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You¡¯re okay, Mara-Lin-Jaid! You¡¯re safe.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: Jaid! Thank the gods.

    </blockquote>

    But there was something off in her eyes, a frantic look that refused to settle. Terry put a hand on her shoulder, willing her to calm down.

    Her voice echoed out, alien and incomprehensible.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I don¡¯t understand. Repeat it in System chat.

    </blockquote>

    She started up once more in her own language, then shook her head as if in a daze.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: We¡¯ve been betrayed!

    </blockquote>

    Her eyes darted up to Obsidian Blade, then the lich at her side. She scuttled away from them on her hands and knees, coming around Terry.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: They healed you, they¡¯re our friends.

    </blockquote>

    He turned to see her eyes studying the two undead in the dark and realized she couldn¡¯t see. With a flex of aura, he enhanced her vision.

    She flinched in response, then seemed to settle incrementally.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Not them, the other one! He¡¯s leading sanguine to us right now!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: What is happening? We are under attack? Come to me, Jaid!

    </blockquote>

    Terry held her tight, squeezing her shoulders as she suddenly shivered. Her eyes tracked to Terry¡¯s, a fear mingled there with unshakable certainty.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: I saw it, Terry. They¡¯re coming. Now!

    </blockquote>

    He bit his lip in thought. Her visions had always felt so convenient, unusable or downright too late to be of help. But the fear in her eyes was impossible to fake.

    Turning to Obsidian Blade, he hesitated a moment before speaking. ¡°She says one of your people is leading sanguine to us as we speak.¡± He studied Obsidian Blade¡¯s aura, wondering if the ghoul leader would automatically take sides against them. But the uncertain flash Terry saw made his heart clench. ¡°You¡¯re not surprised¡­¡±

    ¡°Whirling Bone has always been a supporter of the sanguine. I think he secretly believes that our people failed the Mother and we should bow down to those more capable of protecting the Blood.¡± Obsidian Blade glanced toward Mara-Lin-Jaid, a flicker of doubt in his aura. ¡°If what the spawnling says is true, we must hide you. We cannot fight against the sanguine swarms and hope to survive.¡±

    ¡°I can use my powers to teleport us to the bottom layer. Just let me grab my friends!¡±

    <hr>

    When Al¡¯Ruzan was born, the Matrons put a sharpened blade in his newborn hands. A tiny thing, only fit for eating with, yet potentially deadly in the grip of a babe.

    That was only the first test of the Dirg¡¯Ghee for those on the martial path¡ªshould the child cut themselves, they would be shunted away from martial pursuits.

    Should the child do worse¡­well, death was a fitting finality to such an early failure.

    His life had been a series of such tests, most unspoken and unexplained until well after he had passed.

    And passed he had.

    Ruzan was his sire¡¯s name, and his sire¡¯s name. Heavy with the weight of deeds stretching back hundreds of cycles. It was an honorable name, one that had been given freely, well before he had earned it or done anything of import¡ªother than not slicing his own neck at birth.

    But the title of ¡®Al¡¯ was something entirely else. That title could only be earned through merit extending beyond circumstance of birth or concentrated familial power. It wasn¡¯t simple physical feats that garnered him that title¡ªthough a dozen bodies of his former peers spoke to his prowess in that domain.

    No, Al meant that he carried himself with dignity, that he encapsulated the four pillars of power and leadership.

    Al meant future ruler of the Dirg¡¯Ghee.

    And so it was with great shame that he recognized that he had fallen from the path. It had been a gradual thing, a single degree shift that over the years stuck on this world, had seen him step slowly toward indignity and disgrace.

    He might have blamed it on the man standing beside him now¡ªBen¡ªfor humiliating him more than once over the years. But he had learned recently that the human was honorable, even selfless, which had only shamed Al¡¯Ruzan more.

    He might have then been inclined to cast blame on the lesser castes he¡¯d been forced to share a home with, forced to feed them like children, forced to listen to their incessant prattling as they slowly turned cave-crazy.

    But he had been their leader and it was his failure to follow the four pillars that had resulted in their discontent¡ªand his own.

    In a deep, distant part of his soul, he might have blamed Mara-Lin-Jaid for softening him. For making him weak.

    For making him fall in love¡ªfor a fall it was.

    He had been convinced that her tenderness and the others¡¯ weaknesses had pulled him down from the ideals of the four pillars. They had caused his fall.

    It was only now, standing side-by-side with Ben, preparing to fight off the sanguine that threatened him¡ªbut more importantly, Mara-Lin-Jaid¡ªdid he recognize the truth.

    He could not have fallen from the four pillars, for he had never truly adhered to them.

    Honor, Bravery, Selflessness, Strength.

    The four pillars were in a specific configuration for a reason. In the house of Al, Honor and Strength stood opposite Selflessness and Bravery, with the former two pillars coming first both in study and in practice.

    He had thought this was the natural order of the pillars¡ªHonor and Strength stood above Selflessness and Bravery, proving that Honor and Strength were the more important virtues.

    But as Mara-Lin-Jaid ran from the Chamber tunnel and into his arms, all the Strength and Honor in the world was as nothing in comparison to her weight pressed against his body.

    He¡¯d give his fighting arm for this woman, his legs for this woman. He¡¯d suffer a million cycles beneath the flames of the gods for this woman.

    Was that Selflessness? Was that Bravery?

    Did it matter?

    All around him, ghouls milled frantically, Terry¡¯s shrill human voice squawked in his ears, aura stirred like a great tidal pool.

    And none of it touched him.

    The only pool he saw were Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s eyes. The only sound he heard was her heartbeat pumping in rhythm to his own. The only movement he felt was her hands reaching up to grip his face.

    Liquid dripped down her cheeks, something she had once told him spoke of great pain or great happiness.

    As they embraced, he somehow realized that it could be both, simultaneously.

    <hr>

    Terry abandoned his attempts at rousing Al¡¯Ruzan from Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s embrace; there was clearly something happening between them that transcended the surface appearance.

    Turning to Ben, he found his uncle¡¯s eyes ice-blue.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be heavily guarded,¡± Ben said.

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    ¡°We could use the Fleshripper Clan in our assault.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    Ben blinked, his face stone still. ¡°You want me to ask or¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    Terry found Obsidian Blade rallying his forces, preparing to meet the sanguine that Whirling Bone was leading toward them.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to open a portal to the Lakarot¡¯s Chamber. We could use your help¡­¡±

    Obsidian Blade looked back from Silent Death, his eyes expressionless. Then, he sent a flash of aura to his subordinate, and turned fully toward Terry.

    ¡°If we divert too much of our forces, they will know we have bypassed them and will return in force. They move fast¡ªfaster than we possibly can.¡±

    Terry furrowed his brow, not quite understanding.

    ¡°How? I mean, I¡¯ve seen ghouls move and you¡¯re not exactly slow.¡±

    Obsidian Blade turned and sent another pulse of aura out, and the bulk of his army jogged off with Silent Death, while ten ghouls stayed behind.

    ¡°The sanguine have excavated the Lakarot¡¯s Chamber into a wide-open space. Their wings will give them the flier¡¯s advantage. Likewise, the tunnels leading from this layer to the first are wide enough for them to travel through the air. As soon as they recognize my absence, their leaders will call for a retreat.¡±

    Ben stepped forward. ¡°Then we move fast. Once we restore the Lakarot, nothing else matters.¡±

    Obsidian Blade agreed with a flash of aura, but Terry felt himself wondering if in their haste to sacrifice themselves, they were missing a better strategy.

    Hesitantly, he pushed his own aura forward, cautious but insistent.

    ¡°If it comes to it, I won¡¯t falter in giving my life to save your world.¡± He met Obsidian Blade¡¯s eyes, feeling his magic stir sympathetically. ¡°But if you¡¯ll indulge me, I think I have a better plan¡­¡±

 B2 - Chapter 41: Juan Time

    The barest pinhole of blue-white light formed in the dark space high above the ground. In the utter black, it was the tiniest break in consistency, so removed from searching eyes or aura senses as to be invisible.

    It was only large enough for a single eye to peer through.

    Terry surveyed the space below, struggling to penetrate the inky darkness¡ªeven with Master of Light.

    Ben looked next, his enhanced Physical Attributes giving his eyes a better chance at surveying the scene below.

    When he stepped back, his lips were set in grim determination.

    ¡°I see movement. Hard to get a count, but¡­it looks like hundreds.¡±

    ¡°Shit,¡± Terry muttered, then replayed Ben¡¯s words over System Chat.

    Al¡¯Ruzan was expressionless, turning in deference to Mara-Lin-Jaid. She inexplicably closed her eyes and for a moment, Terry felt frustration brew.

    Then he noticed her aura coming to life and bit back his annoyance. Not once had he felt her aura during a vision, so he was surprised to feel it now.

    They waited patiently as the movement of her aura crescendoed, before finally falling inert.

    When her eyes opened, there was a conflicting set of emotions behind them; confidence and yet resignation, too.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: I can see our path. I will show you now.

    </blockquote>

    Before Terry could question that unusual statement, her aura reached for him. On instinct, he resisted, but an annoyed glare from her caused him to rub at the back of his neck as he let down his guard.

    A series of images flashed in his mind, somehow like Crimson Spear¡¯s aura-memory, yet different. Hers had a sort of flavor to it that was more in line with his own sensations, whereas the ghoul¡¯s had been alien in nature.

    More than that, he could feel her own sensory limitations bottlenecking the visions, preventing her from seeing more than her own physical body would normally experience.

    The result was an incredibly dark slideshow of images that he had to strain to make sense of. But the longer he considered them, the more they seemed to shift in his mind, the darkness peeling away as his own senses took ownership of the visions.

    They began to coalesce into something different and he found himself leaning forward unconsciously to get a better grasp of the images. She suddenly pulled away, retracting her aura and the visions along with it.

    At the last moment before she¡¯d withdrawn contact, he¡¯d seen something that he felt he hadn¡¯t been meant to. He cast her a questioning look but she subtly shook her head.

    ¡°Did you get it?¡± Ben asked, oblivious to their expressions.

    His eyes lingered on Mara-Lin-Jaid a moment longer, but she looked away uncomfortably, so he didn¡¯t press the issue.

    ¡°I got it.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Or, at least close enough. It¡¯s dark¡ªeven in the visions.¡±

    Ben nodded. ¡°It¡¯ll have to do.¡± He turned to their ghoul escort and switched to their language. ¡°We move with stealth.¡±

    The ghouls acknowledged him with their aura, strapping down their weapons to prevent unwanted shifting.

    To Terry, he said, ¡°Whenever you¡¯re ready.¡±

    He nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he began to reach down with his aura.

    In the distance, he heard the clash of bodies as the Fleshripper Clan met the incoming sanguine in deadly conflict, but pushed it from his mind.

    His aura ranged deeper, feeling for that landmark in Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s vision. It was an outcropping of rock that was partially hidden from view and would hopefully keep the light of the portal obscured.

    As he found it, he split his focus, readying Master of Light to work simultaneously as the portal opened.

    Space parted¡ªa waist-high portal they¡¯d have to crawl through¡ªand he stirred Master of Light through first to contain the blue-white light of the portal.

    If he¡¯d done it right, there should have been the briefest flash as it opened, and then total darkness again.

    Ben crawled through first, followed by Al¡¯Ruzan, then the ghouls. Once they were through, he nodded to Mara-Lin-Jaid, who finally let her stern mask down. He saw then the devastation in her eyes before she too crawled through the portal.

    With a soft sigh, he followed her, feeling his body enter sub-space before arriving into complete darkness. The portal closed behind them with a flex of his aura, then he inverted Master of Light, giving their eyes a brighter view of their surroundings.

    It was still dark, but not utterly so.

    His eyes traced up, taking in a large cavern¡ªthe largest he¡¯d seen in the Underworld by an order of magnitude. Along the nearby wall, there was evidence of structures once carved into the stone, now marred and crumbling¡ªfrom neglect or sabotage, he couldn¡¯t say.

    The structures reminded him of the Bloodsplatter and Fleshripper Clan¡¯s architecture, confirming that this had once been the domain of the ghouls.

    Turning his gaze back to the group, he stirred Master of Light one more time to contain their infrared and visible light¡ªexcept for a small window near their eyes¡ªeffectively making them all invisible.

    It was a large drain on his concentration and aura to keep the effect active, but he took consolation in the fact that their journey was almost at an end¡ªone way or another.

    With Ben in the lead, they slowly climbed over the nearby rock outcropping, heading for the center of the cave. There were a thin series of stone bridges that led to the center and as they followed, Terry glanced down to what lay below.

    Though his eyes had difficulty piercing the dark, he could have sworn he heard the slow slosh of liquid lapping against the rock far below.

    Had the Blood once risen all the way to this bridge? he wondered.

    It filled him with a sense of urgency, a need to restore the Underworld to its former glory. They were doing the right thing and that buoyed his steps.

    The bridge they followed was narrow, only wide enough for three of them to stand shoulder-to-shoulder. But they moved single file, giving them plenty of space on the dark path.

    Ben was in the front, followed by a handful of ghouls, then Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid, and the rest of the ghouls, with Terry in the rear.

    They were halfway across the thin bridge when Terry heard the scuffling sound of something crawling beneath him. He froze and saw the ghouls in front of him follow suit.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    But Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid continued on, oblivious.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Stop! Movement beneath us!

    </blockquote>

    Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s hands snaked out, gripping Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s shoulders protectively. At the front of the procession, he noticed Ben stop, his blue-white eyes seeming to reflect unnaturally in the dark cave.

    A clawed hand reached up from beneath the bridge, pulling itself forward and into view. It was a large sanguine, its eyes searching about, its nose sniffing quietly.

    No one moved for a tense moment, the sanguine climbing up onto the bridge proper. Its hands quested forward on the stone, its head turning back and forth slowly.

    Something changed and the sanguine reared its head up.

    A ghoul spear flicked into its owner¡¯s hands, then through the sanguine¡¯s brain in a flash.

    It wasn¡¯t fast enough.

    Though Terry hadn¡¯t heard a sound or felt a flash of aura, the change in the atmosphere of the cave was instantaneous. The sounds of rustling wings and shrieking sanguine filled the air, and Terry¡¯s heart skipped a beat.

    ¡°Go!¡± Ben hissed.

    The group took off at a run, rocks skittering to the depths below from their passage.

    <hr>

    Inexplicably and against all odds, Py, Juan, Chippy, and the ghouls of the Bloodsplatter Clan, had made it past the latest barricade of the fourth liminal layer, finding themselves out of the frying pan and into the fire.

    Literally.

    As they emerged from the tunnel leading from the liminal layer, they stopped to stare at the stone plateaus that appeared to have once been connected by bridges. Beneath those plateaus, bubbling lava appeared to be slowly receding.

    As Juan threw another fireball and scorched half a dozen sanguine, his lethargy dissipated as he felt the heat of his fire not be the hottest thing in the room.

    His senses ranged backward, caressing the pool of lava between them and safety.

    He both wanted to cheer and cry.

    On one hand, they now had to do another slow retreat across open space using the hoverboards that Py and Chippy swore were safe to hold his weight.

    On the other hand, he now had a veritable treasure trove of fire to draw from.

    With a flex of aura, he activated his Fire Telekinesis and pulled from the lava below. It was heavy¡ªheavier than pure flame due to the melted rock mingling with the fire. And he was tired, so damned tired.

    He cried out in frustration as he threw a ball of liquid magma into the tunnel, missing most of his targets but slowing them down as the heat overwhelmed them.

    As he neared the plateau edge, he took one of the hoverboards and pushed his aura into the device with a pained cry.

    When he reached the first stone plateau, he stumbled to the rock, slowly picking himself up with the help of Py Dar.

    ¡°We can¡¯t keep going like this,¡± he muttered.

    Judging from Py¡¯s confused expression, she hadn¡¯t suddenly developed an understanding of English.

    He shook his head, waving away her concern. He had to keep going. His control of fire was their single greatest weapon against the sanguine¡ªespecially as the ghoulish spears had slowly been damaged or lost in the constant fighting.

    Among the nearly one hundred ghouls, they¡¯d only lost five, but nearly forty of their spears. It was still a powerful force, but one reaching its breaking point.

    As the final ghouls were ferrying across the gap with their six hoverboards, the sanguine burst from the tunnel, taking to the air with cries of triumph. Crimson Spear sent out an aura of command and those with enhanced spears aimed at the fliers.

    Juan saw it coming like a bad premonition, screaming out in Spanish, then English, knowing that the ghoul wouldn¡¯t understand regardless.

    A moment later, it happened.

    Two dozen flying sanguine dove¡ªnot for the ghouls, like they¡¯d been doing all this time¡ªbut for the hoverboards. Even as spears stabbed them to death, the impact of their bodies dislodged the hoverboards from the air. Ghouls fell to the lava below, followed shortly by the now unpowered shields of bone.

    Chippy squeaked piteously as Py put all four hands to her face.

    Juan looked around, scanning for anymore shields for the two to imbue. There were three strapped to ghoul backs¡­only three.

    He met Crimson Spear¡¯s eyes, seeing the finality in that alien gaze.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Terry¡­hey, bro. I¡­I think we¡¯re cooked.

    </blockquote>

    Terry didn¡¯t immediately respond, which scared the man. If he hadn¡¯t made it, then it was all for nothing.

    A memory flashed in his mind, his abuela¡ªalways his abuela¡ªscolding him for his attitude.

    Juan Carlos, you¡¯ve only lost when you give up! I didn¡¯t raise a quitter, did I?

    Last week, he would have shouted back at her: Yes! Yes, you did, abuela!

    But that realization angered him, sent a fire coursing down his throat and into his chest that spurred him into action. He reached for his aura and found it diminished but not drained.

    With gritted teeth, he pulled on the lava below, summoning it to him with all his might. A massive glob of the melted rock rose slowly, appearing before him like a miniature sun.

    He cried out as his aura strained against the weight, threw that glob with one final push that drained him entirely. As he collapsed to the stone plateau, he watched that lava completely encompass the tunnel swarming with sanguine.

    Their terrible shrieks cut through the air, causing a smile to appear on his weary face.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: We¡¯re not done, yet! Py, Chippy, get those hoverboards a¡¯hovering!

    </blockquote>

    <hr>

    The cacophony inside the Lakarot¡¯s cave nearly split Terry¡¯s eardrums. It was a call-to-arms that he felt in his bones, knew extended not just through the cave, but up into the tunnels and into the next layer.

    The time for subterfuge was past¡ªthey would need to punch through the defenders before more reinforcements arrived.

    Ben came to the same conclusion, his massive aura stirring the air around them. As ice formed along his body, coating him in a blue-white suit of armor, a deadly storm of icicles began to circle.

    ¡°Go!¡± he yelled in ghoulish, his ice-encased feet thudding heavily on the stone bridge.

    Terry dropped his Master of Light and activated Master of Telekinesis and Liquefy Metal. The silver bracelet on his wrist liquefied and he formed his razor net of needles.

    He ranged it wide, covering Al¡¯Ruzan, Mara-Lin-Jaid, and as many of the ghouls as he could.

    They raced forward, stumbling through the dark as the first sanguine dove for them.

    Shearing icicles pierced delicate wings and soft flesh. Razor-sharp silver needles caught the stragglers. But for every ten they killed, one or two penetrated their defenses.

    But Al¡¯Ruzan and the ghouls were no strangers to close combat. Spears met flesh, before launching the dead bodies over the side into the depths below.

    From Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s vision, he knew they had a half-mile to travel to reach the Lakarot¡¯s housing. He remembered a large bone structure encasing the housing, hiding it from view. The extent of her vision had ended there, but there was a sense of finality to that location, an intuition that their journey came to an end at that half-mile marker.

    But a half-mile swarmed by ten thousand diving sanguine was a gauntlet of death.

    He was determined to make it their deaths, not his.

    As he directed his needle net to intercept the dozens of fliers swooping low, Juan¡¯s message came in, making his stomach drop. He split his focus to start crafting a message, when one of the sanguine passed through his silver needles and inexplicably lived. He only had time to realize it was one of the elites, before it crashed into his body, sending him tumbling over the side of the bridge.

    <hr>

    He was the flame. The flame was him.

    Crimson Spear and the other ghouls surrounded him in a shield of bodies as his utter focus was turned to controlling the ball of lava on the far side of the cave.

    Sanguine tried over and over to penetrate his fiery barricade, and each time, he spewed lava over them, burning them for their efforts.

    The few sanguine that survived in the air above them circled timidly, waiting for reinforcements before selling their lives.

    Py and Chippy had managed to quickly imbue the three remaining bone shields, but the trek across the open air was slow, only six ghouls able to go at one time.

    And there were seven jutting columns between them and their exit.

    Juan and his contingent of bodyguards were the last to go, allowing him to stay as close as possible to the tunnel to ease the pull on his aura.

    But once everyone had ferried across, Crimson Spear touched his shoulder, nodding toward the waiting hoverboards. He pulled his attention away from the lava to see Chippy and Py on the far side, ready to descend into the next layer.

    He felt a clarity grip him harder than it ever had in his life before. A crystal pure realization that he had finally found meaning in his short existence¡ªcould finally do something worthwhile.

    Looking up at Crimson Spear, he shook his head.

    ¡°No. You go. I¡¯ll hold them off.¡±

    Despite the language barrier, he sensed that the ghoul leader understood him immediately. And he shook his head right back.

    Juan narrowed his eyes in confusion.

    ¡°Go, bro! Let me hold them back!¡±

    Crimson Spear¡¯s face was flat, his finger pointing at Juan, then across the lava cave to his friends. He followed that finger, seeing even from this distance the confused and distraught looks on his friends¡¯ faces.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Juan Carlos, why do you not come?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: I¡¯m the only one that can hold them off, Py. I have to stay behind.

    </blockquote>

    He saw the two of them share a look and he had to force himself to turn away. If he thought too long or too hard about what he was doing, he¡¯d talk himself out of it.

    I¡¯m a coward, he thought, but only if I think too hard.

    With an effort of will, he unlocked a mode of thought that he¡¯d never experienced before¡­he shut his brain off.

    Instinct guided his aura as he fought the sanguine back. In the corner of his eye, he saw Crimson Spear gesticulating, but didn¡¯t process what the ghoul might be trying to say.

    System messages came in, but he ignored them.

    Sanguine burned and he felt at peace with himself for the first time.

    But something in the back of his mind must have not been entirely shut off, because as another System message scrolled across his vision, his eyes latched on to a single word, snatching his attention with an iron grip.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Juan, you infantile fool! Go with Crimson Spear! You¡¯re messing up my plan!

    </blockquote>

 B2 - Chapter 42: Operation Elevator

    Master of Telekinesis gripped him in midair.

    The sanguine elite also gripped him, but in a much less pleasant fashion.

    Powerful limbs that were on par with his own strength tried to rip into his flesh. Teeth gnashed near his throat. Wings beat frantically, trying to pull him to his death.

    And all he could see in his vision was Juan¡¯s heroic, stupid sacrifice.

    But before he could save Juan and the others, he needed to save himself.

    The sanguine was on his side, pinning his right arm as it tried to deal the killing blow. With the strength of his body and his Skill, he held it at bay, his free hand gripping one claw while his aura gripped the other.

    But the strain of holding himself in midair and fighting off the elite was draining him at an alarming rate. He needed to change the paradigm.

    Rearing back, he smashed his forehead into its face. It snarled in rage, but his forehead was coming in a second time, snapping its head back. Its eyes went unfocused, the growl it had been forming cut off midway.

    A third headbutt dazed it enough to buy him a second. He couldn¡¯t unlatch its clawed feet from where it clutched to his calves. But he could turn his aura to lifting him back up to the bridge while the elite recovered.

    Their combined weight was heavy for his Skill, but they made slow and steady progress back to the lip of the stone. As he came into arm¡¯s reach, the elite suddenly lunged with its claws at Terry¡¯s throat.

    His hand was reaching for the bridge, too slow to intercept the blow.

    A giant body collided with the sanguine, ripping it free from Terry. He gasped as claws raked along his back and collarbone.

    A woman¡¯s voice screamed out above him as he forced his hand to latch onto the stone with a death grip.

    ¡°Al¡¯Ruzan!¡±

    <blockquote>

    [Al''Ruzan, third of his name]: Please catch me, Terry.

    </blockquote>

    There was no time to think. His aura struck downward like a coiled viper, latching blindly onto the heaviest thing he felt falling beneath him. His aura strained at the sudden tug, but held on.

    With one hand gripping the bridge, he glanced down to see Al¡¯Ruzan wrapped around the elite, his knife hand stabbing over and over into its body. He dwarfed the creature, nearly three times its size, each blow savaging its flesh with the power of a piston.

    When he finally released the sanguine, it drifted away, held tight by Terry¡¯s Skill. He separated the two objects in his mind, letting the dead body enter a free fall as he held Al¡¯Ruzan aloft.

    ¡°Little help here¡­¡± he groaned, catching Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s eyes.

    Her gaze had been locked on Al¡¯Ruzan, but she started as she realized Terry was dangling by a finger grip right next to her. Two delicate hands gripped his wrist, straining to pull his weight up. She managed to lift him enough for him to get a second grip on the bridge. It should have been simple for his enhanced body to pull him up at that point, but something felt off, broken.

    Working together, the two of them levered him onto solid ground and as he gasped on his back, he turned his attention to the aura gripping Al¡¯Ruzan.

    He felt the big Duelist slowly begin to rise, his increased weight and Terry¡¯s blood loss making it more of a chore than it should have been.

    When Al¡¯Ruzan reached the stone bridge, he lunged for the edge with a barely-restrained panic in his eyes. Terry couldn¡¯t blame him; being suspended over a thousand foot drop by nothing but someone else¡¯s aura would have terrified him too.

    As the Duelist launched himself up, he cleared the lip of the bridge in a single motion, landing straight on his feet and into Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s arms.

    ¡°Show off,¡± Terry muttered.

    His fingers slowly reached up to his right shoulder, tentatively feeling the extent of the damage. The pain shocked him numb for a moment, but he forced himself to endure it.

    They came back soaked in blood, far too much for a superficial wound. He was beginning to feel a chill, but hoped it was from Ben¡¯s magic and not blood loss.

    ¡°You good, kid?¡±

    He looked over to see Ben surrounded by sanguine bodies, his entire body encased in nearly-translucent armor.

    With a groan, he used his good arm to lever himself to his feet. A wave of dizziness took him, but cleared a moment later.

    ¡°Good enough to see this through,¡± he replied, meeting his uncle¡¯s gaze.

    He saw a flicker of worry there as Ben¡¯s eyes trailed to his masticated shoulder, then a brief nod before he turned back to deal with another wave of sanguine.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: You¡¯re hurt.

    </blockquote>

    He turned to see Mara-Lin-Jaid and Al¡¯Ruzan staring at him with poorly concealed concern.

    Shrugging, he sent them a message.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Job¡¯s not over. Let¡¯s go!

    </blockquote>

    Mara-Lin-Jaid looked like she was about to protest, but Al¡¯Ruzan nodded once, slapping his blade against his chest in a salute before reentering the fray.

    Terry turned away from the girl, not liking what he saw in her eyes. Was vision girl giving me that look because she saw I was gonna die?

    He pushed those thoughts away, surveying the battlefield.

    They¡¯d made little progress since he¡¯d been knocked from the bridge, but he was pleased to note that none of the ghouls had fallen. Ben¡¯s blizzard still circled them and those sanguine that made it past were quickly dispatched by ghoul spears or ice-covered gauntlets.

    ¡°We¡¯re good!¡± Terry called to Ben. ¡°Let¡¯s move!¡±

    He didn¡¯t reply, but Terry felt his aura stir as the center of the blizzard shifted. The group moved in lockstep, staying within the eye of the storm as Ben led them across the bridge.

    Above, Terry couldn¡¯t see the cavern ceiling past the thousands of swarming sanguine. It was a demoralizing sight seeing a literal ocean of bodies readying to descend upon them.

    If they simply swarmed at one time, he wasn¡¯t certain the weight of their bodies wouldn¡¯t just finish the job then and there.

    But for whatever reason, the sanguine came in fits and starts, one dozen¡ªsometimes two¡ªat a time.

    Terry wasn¡¯t one to look a gift horse in the mouth; he followed Ben¡¯s lead, the group moving at a slow jog.

    They reached the end of the bridge and he let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been holding. Something about fighting on a thin strip of stone perched high above a deadly fall sapped at his will.

    But solid ground greeted them and he strained his eyes to see the landscape before them.

    It was a rocky plateau, most of it obscured by small stone hills that blocked his line of vision. But he had a sense for where they needed to go, a holdover from Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s vision, maybe.

    He sent a frantic message to the others, hoping Juan hadn¡¯t done something silly and brave.

    Despite the overwhelming odds, there was still a chance¡ªa small, unlikely chance¡ªthat they succeeded.

    But if they were going to die restoring the Lakarot, he wanted it to be together¡ªnot spread far and wide across the layers of the Underworld.

    <hr>

    Juan had been holding onto his idea to valiantly martyr himself by the barest thread. Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s message had snapped that thread and he suddenly found his rational brain screaming at him.

    What the hell were you thinking, Juan! If you die here right now, your abuela is gonna kill you!

    He didn¡¯t doubt it, too. If there was a heaven or hell, she¡¯d find him and it wouldn¡¯t be pretty.

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    Shaking the mental image of his abuela smacking him with a flip flop in the fires of hell, he hurriedly sent a message to Py and Chippy.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Okay, I¡¯m coming!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Thank the Savior. What were you thinking!

    </blockquote>

    He held off from crafting a reply¡ªthe truth was too embarrassing.

    I thought I saw a chance to be a hero, just like the cartoons I watched growing up¡­

    For the briefest moment, the romanticism of the idea had utterly consumed him. But as he shook the idea free, he realized that the sanguine were still having trouble passing his lava blockade and the ghouls¡¯ spears continued to launch into the tunnel mouth, killing any that did make it past.

    There was a good chance they could make it across even without him holding the door, so to speak.

    I am never telling abuela about this¡­

    As he ferried across one of the hoverboards with Crimson Spear, a message came in from Terry.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Juan? Juan! Talk to me! You still with us?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: I¡¯m good, Terry. Just a lapse in judgment. I¡¯m ferrying across this pit of lava with Crimson Spear now.

    </blockquote>

    Across the way, Chippy and Py were doing a little dance, cheering him on as he reached the first column.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Good to hear, bro. Cause we need you down here! There¡¯s thousands of sanguine in between us and the Chamber.

    </blockquote>

    Juan felt his heart skip a beat. Could he tell Terry he¡¯d put his life of sacrifice behind him? It had been a brief, but powerful stint, he thought. Enough martyrdom to last him a lifetime.

    Instead, he infused his words with as much bravado as he could muster.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: We¡¯re on the way!

    </blockquote>

    Nope, he was never telling his abuela anything about this.

    <hr>

    ¡°We need to punch through,¡± Terry said to Ben.

    The group had formed a small enclave on the high point of the plateau. Ben¡¯s swirling blizzard continued to protect them, while Obsidian Blade¡¯s ghouls formed a secondary circle of defense.

    ¡°Can you portal us through?¡± Ben asked in between launching icicles into diving sanguine.

    That was the problem, he had tried.

    ¡°There¡¯s something blocking me. The moment they started attacking, some sort of spatial locking effect went into place.¡± Terry ranged his senses forward, feeling the blanket of power smothering the entire cavern. ¡°They must have realized after we bypassed their blockades. I might be able to push through, but they¡¯ll know exactly where we¡¯ll be exiting from.¡± He sighed, shaking his head. ¡°We¡¯d be walking into a slaughter.¡±

    Ben sent another wave of ice out before looking back. There was a resolute set to his lips, his eyes glowing ice-blue in the dark cave.

    ¡°Then we punch through.¡±

    There was a comforting simpleness to that realization. There was only one way past and that was through. No more subterfuge, no more sneaking about. Just the strength of their magic and body weighed against the swarm of sanguine.

    He very purposefully didn¡¯t think about the way his right arm hung limp or the damp cold liquid he felt dripping down his side, pooling in his boots.

    All he needed was a few more minutes and one final push.

    <blockquote>

    [Al''Ruzan, third of his name]: What is the plan?

    </blockquote>

    Terry met his eyes, feeling a manic grin touch his lips.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: We go through.

    </blockquote>

    The giant Duelist¡¯s mouth spread wide, revealing his tusks¡ªa viscerally terrifying image, but one he thought must be a matching smile.

    <blockquote>

    [Al''Ruzan, third of his name]: Perfect.

    </blockquote>

    Terry couldn¡¯t miss the sad look he cast Mara-Lin-Jaid, but there was also a contentment in that gaze. Like they¡¯d finally said the unspoken and could face death knowing they were side-by-side.

    Or maybe he was reading too much into it. Either way, he was pleased to note that the two readied themselves in anticipation.

    ¡°Follow my pace!¡± Ben called out in ghoulish, then repeated in System chat for the other two. ¡°We¡¯re gonna move fast!¡±

    Terry knew his legs were weakening¡ªhis whole body, in fact¡ªso he activated Telekinesis to compensate.

    When Ben moved, the entire storm moved to follow. It wasn¡¯t an all-out sprint¡ªthe A-ranker would have left them in the dust otherwise¡ªbut to Terry¡¯s failing body, it might as well have been.

    Even with Telekinesis assisting his limbs, the burst of speed was quickly draining him.

    They leaped off the side of the small hill they had been defending, running forward where another hill obscured what lay beyond.

    Terry knew from earlier that a wave of grounded sanguine lay between them and the Lakarot housing, but Ben¡¯s magic and the ghouls¡¯ spears would be the tip of their wedge.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid ran beside him as Al¡¯Ruzan fell back to take up the rear.

    A private message came from the woman.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: You¡¯re bleeding out.

    </blockquote>

    He side-eyed her, snorting at the obvious proclamation.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: See that in a vision, did you?

    </blockquote>

    He tried smiling to soften the message, but her face remained stoic.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: I know you don¡¯t hold much stock with my Class.

    </blockquote>

    As they ran, another swarm of sanguine flew in from above just as Ben met a line of elites on the ground. It was a quick, bloody affair, the A-ranker smashing through rather than trying to duel each and every sanguine. As they tried to attack his unprotected back, the ghouls crashed into their line next, dispatching them with brutal efficiency.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I don¡¯t know if now¡¯s the time¡­

    </blockquote>

    She leaped over a dying elite that reached for her ankle while Terry pulled on his aura to do the same for him.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: It is the only time, Terry. There¡¯s not much left.

    </blockquote>

    He didn¡¯t like the finality of that statement, but didn¡¯t interrupt her as another message came in.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: I know what you intend and it won¡¯t work. Not in the sequence you are imagining, anyway.

    </blockquote>

    That statement nearly tripped him up and he had to lean on Telekinesis to keep him running as he struggled to process her statement.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay¡­let¡¯s assume I believe you. What do you suggest?

    </blockquote>

    She turned to face him, ignoring her footing in a way he couldn¡¯t in his current state. Her steps never faltered as she sent another message.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: If you give me your trust, I will tell you when. Otherwise, we all die.

    </blockquote>

    He was forced to push his aura out to redirect a falling sanguine body. When he turned back, she had put on a burst of speed, leaving him in the center of the pack as she neared the front.

    It felt like a dismissal and he was almost petty enough just to message her to prove that the discussion¡¯s end had no relevance on where she physically was.

    But his aura was draining fast as he leaned on his Telekinesis more and more, and the blood loss was catching up to him even faster. Now wasn¡¯t the time for petty squabbles.

    Instead, he typed out a message to Juan, Py, and Chippy, imploring them to move faster. If this was going to work, they needed to be in range.

    When they responded in the affirmative, he crafted a second, private message, just for Juan.

    <hr>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: If I don¡¯t make it, will you message my dad when you get back?

    </blockquote>

    Juan was busy smashing a ball of fire into a sanguine¡¯s face, so he ignored the message at first.

    When he had a moment to breathe, he felt a wave of anger roll over him.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Don¡¯t talk like that, bro! We¡¯re all gonna make it!

    </blockquote>

    If Terry was starting to doubt himself, Juan wasn¡¯t sure he could hold it together.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Juan, please¡­

    </blockquote>

    He sighed, turning his attention to leaping from the bone hoverboard to the far side of the lava pit. Their retreat across the lava had been harried, a few dozen sanguine squeezing past his lava blockade as they¡¯d neared the end.

    But thankfully they hadn¡¯t lost any more ghouls or hoverboards once they¡¯d learned the sanguine tactics. Rather than trying to kill the fliers before they could kamikaze, Juan and the ghouls were using evasive maneuvers, pushing aura into the hoverboards at the last moment to dodge the falling bodies.

    It had worked flawlessly, and Crimson Spear was just leaping across the air to land beside him.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Okay, Terry. I¡¯ll hear you out. But you better not be giving up¡­okay, bro?

    </blockquote>

    A tense moment passed before Terry responded.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: Okay, bro.

    </blockquote>

    As Terry sent in a long message for his dad, Juan ignored it to focus on their current predicament; the message would be accessible whenever he needed it. For now, he had to make sure he survived the next liminal layer.

    The last of the ghouls made it across safely and Juan reached his tired aura down, plucking another massive pile of lava up from below and depositing it at the tunnel entrance.

    Sanguine shrieked as their group fled down the tunnel and into the next liminal layer.

    It was a wide open chasm like the others, a long, winding path circling the exterior wall. Every liminal layer before this had been a point of ambush, so Juan gripped the fire he had reserved in his palm, Stoked it to life, then launched it through the open air.

    He was surprised to find no lurking sanguine, then even more surprised when he spotted the ramp circling the chasm.

    A large section had been destroyed, forming a hundred yard gap of open air between the two sides.

    He sent a message to Py and Chippy.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: There¡¯s no time to navigate that gap with the hoverboards. Terry said we needed to be in the next layer, like now!

    </blockquote>

    Chippy and Py shared a curious look that made Juan narrow his eyes.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Operation Elevator?

    </blockquote>

    Py nodded agreement, and Juan had to wonder at that strangely human term.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: You guys have elevators?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: It¡¯s a System translation, Juan Carlos! There¡¯s no time to explain. Observe.

    </blockquote>

    Py got Crimson Spear¡¯s attention, indicating the bone shield in her hands. The ghoul leader watched impassively as she pushed a wave of aura into the device. Then she indicated for a nearby ghoul to grip it along its edge.

    As it did so, she pointed at another, using gestures to show where to grab. She continued doing this until six ghouls had a grip all along the edge.

    Juan thought he understood the idea¡­until she indicated six more ghouls to grab their brothers¡¯ legs.

    His mind physically hurt as she then had six more grab their legs.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Uh, Py¡­?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Have faith, Juan!

    </blockquote>

    When eighteen ghouls¡ªwho obliged Py¡¯s direction with silent grace¡ªwere attached to the hoverboard or each other, she pushed her aura into the control pattern and it began to drift over the edge.

    Pulling the eighteen ghouls with it!

    Juan physically gasped as they fell over the side, disappearing from view. Rushing to the edge, he saw the ghoul bodies trailing in the air like some bizarre, human-sized ant pyramid.

    The hoverboard was pulled down at a decent rate, its aura reserves overwhelmed by the sheer weight. But as Juan watched, he had to admit, it wasn¡¯t falling as fast as he had expected.

    He lost sight of the ghouls as they disappeared into the inky black, so he sent a fireball zipping down to illuminate the ground below.

    As it flew through the air, the ghouls were slowly lit up. He watched with bated breath as they hit the floor at the speed of a minor jump, then spread out to make room for the others.

    Py and Chippy turned to each other and cheered, the four-armed alien picking the little rodent up and twirling him around.

    At Juan¡¯s side, Crimson Spear nodded once, then sent a flash of aura out. Eighteen ghouls were linked up on the next hoverboard in a blink.

    Juan looked around in stupefied disbelief, not quite believing what he had just witnessed.

    Once his mind rebooted, he crafted a message for Terry.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Hold on, Terry! We¡¯re almost to the next layer!

    </blockquote>

    When the second group of ghouls were over the side, a sudden realization hit the man like a fist to the face.

    It was his turn.

    ¡°Ah, mierda¡­¡±

 Book One Launch and Big Thanks to You All!

    Hey all, the big day is here! I started writing this story 18 months ago and I remember thinking very vividly that this wasn¡¯t written to market, would probably bomb, and had no financial viability.

    But I wanted to write it anyway.

    When I posted it initially on Royal Road, I had zero backlog. I essentially yeeted it onto the site, expecting it to go softly into the night. Then, it hit the front page of Rising Stars. Then it hit 2000 followers. Then 3000. Then publishers started reaching out and I realized maybe this thing with no financial viability might actually have a shot.

    Despite that hope, writing is such a long game¡ªyou just keep trying to love what you do, keep chugging away at the dream, knowing that even if you do make it, it¡¯s probably a year, two years, five years, down the road.

    I hope Super Genetic¡¯s launch on Amazon gives me that launchpad to support myself fulltime so I can do this thing for many years to come (and not have to go job hunt in this economic climate :D).

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Now comes the part I love a little bit less¡ªasking for help.

    If you¡¯ve read this far, you¡¯ve probably enjoyed SG at some point, even if you just hate-read now to see when it gits gud again. If you do, or ever did, enjoy SG, please consider reviewing here</a> (no, you don¡¯t have to buy the book to review). Amazon heavily weighs ratings/reviews in the all-mighty algorithm, so please consider taking a few minutes to do that.

    I don¡¯t ask that you gas the series up or make untrue statements. Just let potential readers know why they might enjoy the story :D.

    And of course, an ebook purchase, KU download, or audible purchase helps immensely!

    Thanks again for reading Super Genetics!

    Cheers,

    Sean Dunning

    Amazon Link: https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0DSQHRB5X</a>

    Audible Link: https://www.audible.com/pd/B0DW4JDLRR</a>

 B2 - Chapter 43: Nexus Identification

    Jaid felt the pieces of her visions like a puzzle slotting together. The future was never set in stone¡ªshe had learned that the moment her very first vision had failed to materialize. But though it wasn¡¯t set in stone, it could be guided along, put on a path that once committed to, would resist deviation.

    That was the marker of a skilled Seer. Not the strength or speed in her arms, like a Duelist. Not her control or inexhaustible reserve of aura, like an Elementalist. Not the power of her thralls like a Summoner, nor the strength of her mind like a Hypnotist.

    Her expression of power was through her manipulation of the future. And unfortunately for her, the future was dictated by the people most capable of affecting its path.

    When she¡¯d ascended to the D-rank, it had come with a new Skill. It was a Skill she had already begun to naturally hone, only confirming her keen intuition.

    [Nexus Identification ¡ª Passive]

    The user¡¯s System interface will highlight the Nexus of the user¡¯s fate. This Nexus will be integral to the veracity of the user¡¯s [Future Sight].

    It wasn¡¯t a static marker¡ªeach person had their moment or moments of higher than usual impact on their localized future.

    When she¡¯d first arrived in this frozen hellscape, it had been only her and Al¡¯Ruzan. She¡¯d understood even without her Skill that he was her Nexus.

    Without Al¡¯Ruzan, she would have frozen to death in the first hour; would have starved to death in the first two weeks.

    Would have killed herself in the first two months.

    She understood implicitly when she met a Nexus¡ªthat, she had never doubted.

    But she had also been supremely secure in her belief that she not only recognized them¡ªshe understood why they were a Nexus.

    For Al¡¯Ruzan, it had been about her survival. Without him, she would have been dead, meaning he was her ultimate Nexus, for a time.

    Her growing love for him over the years had nothing to do with that fact¡ªshe simply came to admire him, which in turn developed into adoration, then love.

    But she always knew that one day, she¡¯d either leave this place¡ªand him¡ªor she¡¯d die. It was binary. He was her Nexus insomuch as his existence guaranteed her own. She could divorce her feelings from that truth.

    When Terry had arrived, the strangest thing happened, shaking the foundation of everything she thought she knew.

    He was a Nexus for her, too. When she had realized that, she had expected Al¡¯Ruzan to die or perhaps be exiled by Terry. It had saddened her to realize that fact, but there was no arguing with fate on the matter.

    Only, Al¡¯Ruzan hadn¡¯t died¡ªand with her impulsive intervention¡ªhadn¡¯t been exiled. More than that, he was still a Nexus. And the longer they interacted with Terry, the more confused she became.

    Juan Carlos became one of her Nexuses. Chippy followed shortly after. When Py Dar became a Nexus as well, she nearly lost her grip on herself.

    Her entire life after Awakening had been predicated on understanding and manipulating her Nexus¡ªeven before she¡¯d received a Skill formalizing the term. It didn¡¯t make her cruel or unfeeling; she loved Al¡¯Ruzan regardless of his status as her Nexus.

    But it had been an unavoidable truth¡ªshe was required to cultivate a Nexus in order to achieve the futures she witnessed.

    The man, Ben, had become a Nexus almost immediately upon being unmasked. Crimson Spear, the ghoul leader, was one. Then his entire tribe.

    All around her, Nexuses began to form, nearly driving her insane, the board becoming so complicated that her intuition was clouded.

    It was only as Terry prepared to leave the Bloodsplatter Clan in a desperate bid to return the Lakarot had she realized: he was responsible for the changes in her senses. He was forming the connections between the other players, making them integral parts of the future he was rushing toward.

    A missing piece of the puzzle had snapped into place, filling a gap she hadn¡¯t even recognized.

    Terry was doing her job better than she was. He wasn¡¯t focused on utilizing each piece to its full potential like she was. Yet, somehow, he was doing just that. By virtue of his efforts, he was forming more Nexuses, creating a weave across the future that was nearly unbreakable.

    It was the ultimate expression of what a Seer should be, displayed right before her by an unwitting master.

    At first, it galled her and she refused to admit the truth of her intuition. She tried to reassert control, affect the future like she had once done almost effortlessly. But she was fighting a current that threatened to whip her away.

    Once she finally accepted him for what he was, something inexplicable had happened, something that neither she, nor any of her teachers, had ever heard of.

    She became a Nexus herself. The linchpin in the web he had woven.

    It was both incredibly gratifying and humbling.

    Now, as they neared the resting spot of the Lakarot, a place steeped in an ancient aura now gone stagnant, she felt the pull of fate on her senses.

    All around them, a hundred thousand sanguine flew fitfully, trying to penetrate Ben¡¯s storm. The man himself, with Obsidian Blade¡¯s ghouls, crashed bodily into a line of elites who crumpled before the strength of their party.

    Behind her, she felt Terry¡¯s life fading, even as his aura flashed brilliantly in her senses.

    And past the sanguine elites, the simple bone structure obscured the pedestal she knew was waiting, its hollow tube stretching down into hidden depths below this layer.

    The Lakarot was tied securely to Ben¡¯s waist and he rushed forward to return it to its resting place. Five towering presences unveiled their auras¡ªthe Red Dukes, as Terry had called them.

    Their bodies were as big as Ben, their auras each a match for his strength. Before they could make it inside the chamber, the five Dukes swarmed him.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Al¡¯Ruzan! Retrieve the Lakarot!

    </blockquote>

    Her love rushed to obey without a word, his spear launching forward to distract one of the Dukes hounding Ben. In that moment, the A-ranker detached the Lakarot container and tossed it to Al¡¯Ruzan, who returned to her side as Ben was engaged on all fronts.

    Terry limped forward, propelled mostly by his aura.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What are you waiting for! Let¡¯s go, Al¡¯Ruzan!

    </blockquote>

    Her love turned to her, waiting for her signal. She shook her head, sending a message to Terry.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: You must take it, Terry.

    </blockquote>

    His face was ashen from blood loss, one arm hanging limp.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I¡¯m done, Jaid. Have Al¡¯Ruzan take it.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: You don¡¯t understand. Take the Lakarot inside of you. The power will allow you to bypass the creature locking this space down.

    </blockquote>

    Terry stared at her in dumbfounded shock and she wrinkled her nose at the delay. It is so much simpler when they just obey.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Remember what I said? Trust me.

    </blockquote>

    She bit down her pride, letting out a deep breath before sending her next message.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Please¡­

    </blockquote>

    The annoying boy stared back a moment longer, his face pale, his eyes sunken. Then, his face hardened and he nodded once.

    When he reached toward Al¡¯Ruzan and took the Lakarot, she finally relaxed.

    <hr>

    Under his leadership, his people had stagnated. Cycle after cycle of slow, inescapable death met them with unrelenting surety. A clan member lost to a draugr ambush while foraging; a spawnling underdeveloped due to lack of Blood when they¡¯d been forced to relocate for the seventh time; three lost to a dire wolf pack he hadn¡¯t sensed coming.

    All these failures and more, built upon the terrible truth that his clan had lost the Lakarot, dooming the entire Underworld to that same slow, inescapable death.

    The guilt of an entire realm¡¯s demise lay upon his shoulders.

    But a leader¡ªespecially a leader of the Children¡ªdidn¡¯t lay his doubts and fears upon the psyche of his followers. A true leader bore that weight solely, isolated and alone so that his subordinates operated unencumbered.

    When Rising Claw had first bidden him to flee with what remained of their Clan, he had imagined in his deepest, most secret self, a glorious, triumphant return to their ancestral home. In those hidden dreams, he saw himself returning the Lakarot to the Mother, saw himself elevated to the position of respect and admiration that Rising Claw had once held.

    Those dreams had slowly withered, like that spawnling starved for Blood, until his actions were mostly automatic, his leadership anemic and stale.

    When the Ice Lord had revealed the Lakarot after so many cycles of despondency, he had refused to let himself hope¡ªrefused to let himself dream once more.

    There were too many hostile layers for their small clan to traverse, too many soldiers of the Charnel Halls to overcome.

    The young spawnling¡ªno, he corrected, spawnling no more. The one dubbed, Lightbringer, had revealed his power to bridge the distances of the layers with his very aura. An unbelievably potent ability that had given him that hope once more.

    He no longer dreamed of being the one to restore life to the undead. But he did dream, and that transcended his own personal sense of guilt and longing.

    And yet, against all odds¡ªand with the help of the strange Outsiders¡ªhe and his dwindling clan had survived the trek to the very last layer before the homeland. Through fire, sanguine swarms, and broken paths, they had come.

    Despite it all, the weight of the shame and dreadful obligation began to lessen. He saw the path forward, a single layer to traverse before they returned¡­home.

    But he tempered his hope one last time; the final guardians awaited, scaring him abjectly wherein no other obstacle had sparked even a kindling of fear.

    The Fleshripper Clan scouts recognized his people immediately, revealing their shame and disgust at their presence openly. None dared to impede them, but neither did they hide their thoughts.

    Still, there was a tint of concern intermingling with their dislike of the Bloodsplatter Clan; something had occurred with the Fleshripper Clan that made them question themselves.

    To an elder like Crimson Spear, they could not hide their feelings from their aura.

    He resisted the urge to press them, waiting instead to meet with Obsidian Blade as was custom among the leaders of the ghouls.

    Crimson Spear may have been disgraced, the Bloodsplatter Clan exiled. But some things held true, regardless of caste or circumstance: leaders treated with leaders.

    As the Fleshripper scouts led them into the wide open cave that was the center of their domain, Crimson Spear recognized the lingering scent of violence swirling in the eddies of the ambient aura.

    Have the Fleshripper come to blows with the Red Dukes? Or have they fought with the Lord of Ice and Lightbringer?

    He didn¡¯t allow his emotions to stir in his aura, instead keeping his thoughts and fears hidden as he spotted Obsidian Blade in the distance.

    What he saw among those still standing sent a frisson of doubt through him that he had to shove down lest his aura reveal his thoughts.

    Sanguine stabbed and crushed by ghoul strength¡­but also, other ghouls slain by their own.

    A rift had formed between the Fleshripper Clan, and Crimson Spear could not tell which side had emerged the victor.

    The absence of living sanguine filled his hidden heart with hope, but he didn¡¯t see Lightbringer or the Ice Lord present, which could indicate the survivors had given chase.

    All this was swept from his aura as he approached Obsidian Blade. The auras of the Outsiders at his back were raging torrents, revealing their thoughts the way a newborn spawnling might.

    Fear, excitement, and confusion preceded them and he had to force the currents away from his own aura.

    When Obsidian Blade and Crimson Spear stood before each other, their auras spoke before they did.

    It was a surprising first taste of his brother¡¯s aura after so many cycles. He sensed the power, the strength, the indomitable will¡ªas always. But what was new was the hint of doubt that he tried to suppress, yet couldn¡¯t. The image of an underground mountain appeared in Crimson Spear¡¯s mind, so strong and sure in its place¡ªuntil the flows of an unseen river eroded its base and it collapsed with no warning.

    He acknowledged Obsidian Blade¡¯s thoughts with his own. An image of a bridge stretching over a ravine, carrying the weight of that same mountain on its back. As the mountain crumbled around it, the sense of relief, of a weight that would have seen it broken, drifted away.

    In his mind, he stood on that bridge, looking up at the open air for the first time as his guilt and shame sloughed off his shoulders into the river below.

    Obsidian Blade shaped his aura, revealing surprise.

    ¡°You have grown wise in your disgrace.¡±

    Crimson Spear rebutted that statement with another image¡ªthat of the Outsiders behind him, the Ice Lord, and the Lightbringer.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t. I¡¯ve been instructed.¡±

    ¡°As have I.¡± Obsidian Blade shaped his aura to show Whirling Bone. ¡°Sanguine sympathizers nearly took the legs from the Fleshripper Clan.¡±

    ¡°Yet here you stand.¡±

    ¡°More than that¡ªwe prepare for war.¡±

    Crimson Spear felt the finality in Obsidian Blade¡¯s aura, a readiness for death in the service of the Clan.

    He shaped his aura in agreement but with a simple suggestion.

    ¡°Rather than charge into death¡ªa glorious and worthwhile pursuit in any other circumstance¡ªbide a while with the Bloodsplatter Clan. It would be in service to a higher duty.¡±

    Obsidian Blade didn¡¯t need to ask¡ªthe only higher duty than to the Clan was to the Mother. Still, Crimson Spear took pity on his brother¡¯s curiosity and began to explain the purpose of the bone charm in his pouch.

    <hr>

    At first, he thought Mara-Lin-Jaid was simply being her irritating, purposefully confusing self.

    Then, the realization of what she was telling him to do struck home.

    I won¡¯t survive with the Singularity in me¡ªnot for more than a few seconds.

    But he could see the logic in her plan. The raw power of the Singularity would fuel him just enough to get it where it needed to go.

    What did it matter after that? He was dying anyway.

    Steeling his mind, body, and aura, he sucked in a deep breath, then opened the Aura Filtering Container.

    Power pulsed out in answer, ripping across his senses, pushing away the swirling aura inundating the cavern. Shrieks of surprise and a wave of eagerness suffused the air.

    The Red Dukes battering Ben¡¯s ice-encased form turned as one, their heads swiveling toward the Singularity¡ªand Terry.

    Ben threw himself on two of them, while Al¡¯Ruzan rushed to meet the others. He was stabbed through the stomach, then battered aside.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid gave a desperate cry, started to rush forward.

    Time seemed to stop.

    The Singularity spoke to him. It spoke of possibilities, of the power to accomplish all his goals and ambitions. He saw himself using it to reach up through the layers of the Underworld, summoning blinding white light down upon a hundred thousand sanguine.

    But he knew that wouldn¡¯t win the battle¡ªthe elites and the Dukes were sun-resistant and were more than enough to handle Ben and a handful of ghouls.

    He saw himself reaching for Crimson Spear, Juan, and the others. But where ten ghouls would fail, a hundred ghouls weren¡¯t much better. Even if Obsidian Blade joined with a thousand more ghouls, would it be enough?

    As much as the Singularity demonstrated the possibilities, he¡ªand whatever alien consciousness lived inside of it¡ªboth understood the only true checkmate in this war.

    With a scream of pain, he reached his hand into the container and shoved the Singularity inside his chest.

    Fire swirled from that central point, burning him from the inside out. Aura the likes of which he¡¯d only felt once before¡ªwhen he¡¯d first taken the Singularity into him¡ªinfused his entire being with raw power.

    He had seconds, not minutes, before that raw power spent him like a burnt husk.

    But with time dilating, he found himself multitasking without thought or intention.

    Master of Telekinesis lifted all five Dukes, throwing them back. Though they caught themselves with their wings, the space bought Al¡¯Ruzan, Jaid, and Ben precious seconds to recover.

    With his friends given a brief respite, he turned his focus to the space around him. A blanket of power shrouded the air, restricting his senses much like Tinker¡¯s Artifact. He reached forward with his mind and ripped apart that shroud. It shredded as easily as tissue paper, opening up space to his senses in an effortless way. As he prepared to portal, his connection with the Singularity educated him, revealing insights that he had never considered.

    Why do I need portals? Why not simply pass through sub-space to my destination?

    So he did, moving his physical body through space as easily as one of his portals would have.

    Without moving an inch, he was inside the Lakarot Chamber. Standing before him was a bone pedestal, hollowed in the middle. The Singularity ached in his chest, calling out to be returned home. It was within reach¡­all he had to do was extract it from his chest.

    With a pained gasp, he did so, feeling the potential drain away¡ªalong with the strength to stand. He stumbled against the pedestal, the Singularity burning the skin of his palm hotter than any fire he¡¯d ever felt.

    All he had to do was lift his arm, slip it into the chute¡ª

    A presence revealed itself, shadows and aura swirling as that presence moved superhumanly fast. To Terry of a second ago, whose perception had been dilated by the Singularity, he might have tracked that moving presence.

    To the bleeding out, barely-conscious Terry fumbling with the Singularity above the pedestal slot, it might as well have been Silver moving at top speed.

    The thing ripped the Singularity from Terry¡¯s hand, the air of its passage ruffling his hair. He cried out in frustration, his body collapsing against the pedestal as the realization settled in.

    He had failed.

 B2 - Chapter 44: The Matriarch

    His consciousness wouldn¡¯t fade. He almost wished it would.

    The creature towering over him was a sanguine unlike any he¡¯d ever seen before. It stood tall like the Red Dukes fighting Ben, but lithe where they were all brute strength¡ªa balance of feminine and masculine features on its face.

    But what truly drew his attention¡ªeven with the Singularity pulsing madly in his senses¡ªwas the sanguine¡¯s incredibly dense aura. It reminded him of an S-ranker¡¯s presence, if not closer to someone like Silver or Dancer.

    He groaned, shifting painfully to sit up. ¡°You¡¯re the sanguine leader.¡±

    It turned its gaze from the Singularity pulsing in its palm, a curious expression on its face as it regarded him.

    ¡°I am Lilith, the sanguine matriarch. And you are the Outsider that killed one of my dukes on Earth.¡±

    Its¡ªno, her¡ªvoice was a feminine purr, sparking some primal feeling in the back of Terry¡¯s brain. But he was too close to death¡¯s door to be affected.

    ¡°I did.¡± He grunted, shifting once more. Something poked into his hip, distracting him. As he traced a hand down, he felt his heart skip a beat. ¡°Silvered and burned the bastard.¡±

    The sanguine didn¡¯t rise to the bait, her eyes trailing to the Singularity. It smoked and hissed where it touched the flesh of her hand and Terry wondered what she was waiting for.

    Whatever it was, he wasn¡¯t ready to give up without a fight¡­not just yet.

    He reached a sliver of aura down to the bone charm in his back pocket.

    ¡°You killed one of my weakest dukes,¡± she hissed. ¡°And now you¡¯ve delivered the Lakarot right into my hands.¡± She peered over the glowing orb, her eyes boring into Terry with a heavy weight. ¡°I should be thanking you, Son of Bone.¡±

    Terry chuckled dryly, feeling the bone charm¡¯s sibling resonate in response to his call. The ambient aura kicking off from the Singularity was so intense, he wasn¡¯t even sure if what he was feeling was that response. But he dared to hope it was working.

    ¡°Why not return the Lakarot?¡± he asked, stalling for time. ¡°You need the Blood too.¡±

    The sanguine matriarch held the orb up, her fangs parting her lips.

    ¡°With the Lakarot in my possession, I control the flow of Blood. Our numbers will continue to flourish, while the so-called Children wither away into extinction¡ª¡±

    A connection speared through space, both pieces of the bone charm linking together as a blue-white portal rippled into existence.

    In that moment of shock, Obsidian Blade and Crimson Spear darted forward from the portal, both their namesake weapons cleaving through air.

    But the single half-second of delay as the portal bloomed gave Lilith enough time to dodge. She danced around the chamber, more shadow than creature as the two ghoul leaders attacked. A flash of animated shadow struck out faster than Terry could follow, and Obsidian Blade flew through the air, smashing against the nearby wall.

    Crimson Spear took a defensive stance, holding back the blur that was Lilith, when Juan stepped through the portal. His face was pinched tight like he¡¯d been cringing in anticipation.

    His eyes fell on Terry, a smile forming before he noticed the two figures flashing across the room and Obsidian Blade just rising to his feet.

    Flame blossomed in his hands, lighting up the dim room like a bonfire. The shadows cleared, seeming to sap some small speed from Lilith¡¯s movements. She tried to flee through the exit, but Obsidian Blade stood there, blocking the way.

    A moment later, more ghouls poured through the portal and his heart lifted as he recognized both Bloodsplatter and Fleshripper ghouls filtering through.

    In seconds, the chamber was crammed with ghoul bodies and the sanguine matriarch was cornered. The Singularity pulsed brilliantly in her palm, but Terry realized that she couldn¡¯t absorb the orb into her chest. She had so much power literally at her fingertips, but couldn¡¯t access it.

    With a desperate ploy, she tossed the Singularity away and made a mad dash in the other direction. Terry saw it arcing high in the air, while ghouls chased after her.

    Activating his telekinesis, he redirected its flight subtly, angling it right into the open chute of the bone pedestal.

    As it disappeared from sight, a series of notifications scrolled across his vision.

    Quest Complete: [Restore the Bloodsplatter Clan to their Ancestral Home]

    Reward Pending¡­

    Bonus Objective Complete: [Restore the Lakarot to Power]

    Reward Pending¡­

    Quest Complete: [Stronger Together]

    [5 of 5] living.

    Reward Pending¡­

    ¡°Nice shot, Terry!¡± Juan cheered.

    Then, everything went black.

    But instead of the comforting oblivion of unconsciousness, he found himself drifting away¡ªno, not drifting¡­pulled to some other place. The sensation was both familiar and alien, and he knew that he should have been concerned by the experience. It was too close to death not to be concerned.

    And yet¡­he recognized the location he was being drawn toward. More than that, he recognized who was doing the pulling.

    ¡°Hello, Weaver.¡± He spoke and was surprised to hear his voice out loud. The surroundings around him suddenly sprang into focus, revealing the office of Feed Wichita¡¯s warehouse¡ªbefore the Emperor had confiscated it. Tall glass windows overlooked the warehouse floor, but instead of their farm, he saw only dark fog obscuring the view. The desk was on his right as usual, the couch along the far wall¡ª

    Silver¡ªand not Silver¡ªsat there, an arch to his brow that could have been amusement or annoyance.

    ¡°Hello, Terry. How have you been?¡±

    The innocuous nature of that question¡ªand its supernatural source¡ªcaused him to bark out a laugh.

    ¡°How have I been?¡± He put a finger to his lip in mock thought. ¡°Hmm, let¡¯s see. I had a pretty close brush with a giant bonfire a couple weeks back. Then my enigmatic System had me steal an object way above my paygrade¡ªfrom my own mom, too. Found myself in prime ski territory surrounded by a pack of wolves and five stranded strangers.¡± He shrugged casually. ¡°Then we saved an entire species from a slow extinction, while another species actively worked against their own survival to stop us. How have you been?¡±

    The Weaver smiled; it was Silver¡¯s smile, but not at the same time.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been good.¡±

    The succinct, casual nature of that reply had Terry guffawing, resting his weight on the desk as a manic sensation seemed to grip him.

    After a moment, he wondered at his own reaction, remembering the first time he¡¯d met the Weaver.

    ¡°You¡¯re not messing with my emotional regulation, are you?¡± He tried to inject some of the spite he should have felt into that question, but found it too difficult to muster.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Not this time, Terry. What you¡¯re feeling is the hypoxia. You were dangerously close to bleeding out before the Lakarot was restored.¡±

    That statement managed to pierce through the fog and he stood up straight.

    ¡°Am I gonna die, then?¡±

    The Silver avatar shook his head. ¡°You are currently bathing in the Blood. You¡¯ll wake up shortly, probably feeling better than you ever have before.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­that¡¯s cool¡­¡±

    His thoughts were strange, both urgent and lazy at the same time. He knew there were so many questions he should have had, yet couldn¡¯t seem to prioritize them correctly.

    He decided to leave it to the System to take the lead.

    ¡°So¡­can you explain like, everything? I¡¯m feeling a little disoriented and don¡¯t know where to start¡­¡±

    The Weaver nodded, a wry smile slipping onto Silver¡¯s face for the briefest moment.

    ¡°How about the beginning? Deny the Omega?¡±

    His mind seemed to orient, a large piece of the puzzle slotting back into place. He nodded matter-of-factly, like it had been his own suggestion.

    ¡°I can imagine that was a difficult decision to make, Terry. I asked you to turn against your own mother, take a leap of faith with hardly any information.¡±

    Now that you mention it¡­

    Silver nodded as if the System had heard his thoughts.

    ¡°There were two problems with the White Rose becoming the Omega.¡±

    Terry felt a thrill in his chest at the realization that the Weaver was actually going to give some answers after the whirlwind of doubt and confusion of the last few weeks.

    As the avatar spoke, he walked over to sit on the couch beside the Silver lookalike. He didn¡¯t need to sit¡ªnot in this space that seemed formed from pure consciousness¡ªyet it felt right.

    ¡°The first problem is the Spectral Singularity.¡± Terry blinked, not expecting that answer. ¡°It¡¯s been infected by outside forces looking to gain a foothold in the Empyrean Covenant.¡± Silver held up his hand, forestalling the question forming on Terry¡¯s lips. ¡°I¡¯ll come back to that, don¡¯t you worry.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t help but feel like the Weaver was reading his mind again, though it had stated specifically it was simply reading his aura. Still, he didn¡¯t enjoy the feeling of being exposed without saying or doing anything.

    ¡°Should your mother have succeeded and become the Omega, it is my belief that she would have been corrupted and eventually subsumed by¡­them. No, I see your question forming. Let me get there in my own way. Please.¡±

    He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and cross his arms¡ªthat sort of disrespect towards what was basically a god seemed a bridge too far.

    ¡°The other problem¡ªwhich, forgive me, but I¡¯ll have to dance around this¡ªis that the System of whoever becomes the Omega gains status and power as a result. You know a thing or two about your mother¡¯s System, I think.¡±

    His memory flashed back to his mother¡¯s White Rose, the visions she had stored inside that magical construct, a warning blazing across each of them: Do Not Consume.

    The pain she had endured, the torture at the hands of her System, sparked white-hot rage that made his limbs tremble.

    Silver nodded. ¡°The way you feel right now is¡­let¡¯s say, appropriate. I feel similarly, though on a different scale.¡±

    Terry pushed down the anger, feeling it cloud his already rattled thoughts. He needed to think clearly to maximize this rare meeting with the Weaver.

    ¡°So my mother¡¯s System is a bastard¡ªyou¡¯ll find no disagreement from me on that front.¡± He opened his mouth to say more, then hesitated as he tried to find the words for his next question.

    In typical Weaver fashion, it seemed to read his thoughts, translating them before he could put them to words.

    ¡°And how am I any better?¡±

    On the actual Silver, he would have read a hint of resentment or perhaps hurt in those words. But this eldritch being didn¡¯t mock Terry¡¯s intelligence by mimicking Silver¡¯s mannerisms¡ªwhich he appreciated.

    ¡°Yep, that¡¯s a good way of putting it.¡±

    The Weaver nodded, lifting a hand before pausing.

    ¡°Do you mind if I show you a memory? Nothing you haven¡¯t seen before, but¡­perhaps from a different perspective?¡±

    There was something eerie about the thought of his memories being manipulated, but then he remembered he was literally in dreamland with a godly being and shrugged agreement.

    His vision shifted, a nauseating kaleidoscope of colors that slowly resolved into a dark, fog-covered street.

    Right away, he recognized it as a familiar boulevard in Wichita, just up the road from where he¡¯d started his club with his team.

    His angle was unusual though, lower than his tall form, practically at waist height as his eyes tracked across the street.

    A crowd had formed, everyone around him large, their bulk and height intimidating to his small body. Someone jostled him, knocking him to the pavement, rattling his already woozy head.

    That was when he felt the gnawing pain in his gut. It felt like a fist was clenched around his intestines, squeezing them, devouring them. Somehow, he knew it was the abject hunger of someone who¡¯d lived on scraps for weeks¡ªeven though he¡¯d never personally felt that level of starvation in his entire life.

    As his eyes tracked down to the street, he caught sight of his hands¡ªdirty, black things, the nails chipped and the fingers calloused¡ªand realized that this wasn¡¯t him.

    A hand gripped not-him and he felt the panic of this child like it was his own. Adult hands always meant trouble¡ªa beating¡­or worse.

    Instincts honed on the streets of Wichita took hold and he bucked and scratched against the grip, his other hand reaching for the tiny knife tucked at his waist.

    When the hand didn¡¯t let go, he moved to stab with a feral cry¡ªonly to meet the eyes of a young boy, not a man.

    Terry staggered in shock as the body he was inhabiting stared up¡­into his own eyes.

    A younger Terry looked down on him, a sad smile on his face. While one hand gripped his shoulder, the other was held out, ready to help the child from where he¡¯d been shoved to the ground.

    ¡°You okay?¡± he heard his voice ask the child.

    He felt his own distrust flare, even as he recognized that the older boy helping him was the reason he was here now, lining up on the streets when he should have been scrounging for food in the alley dumpsters.

    ¡°I¡¯m Terry. What¡¯s your name?¡±

    The child hesitated; he¡¯d discovered the hard way that kindness on the streets was always a facade to get his guard down. But this was the one everyone was talking about, the prince handing out food and asking for nothing in return.

    He¡¯d ignored the other boys and girls on the streets who claimed there was free food near the prince¡¯s club, but a bad week of scavenging had pushed him to desperation.

    ¡°T-Timothy,¡± he whispered.

    Terry¡ªthe prince¡ªsmiled at him, a street orphan who was two bad days away from starving to death in an alley.

    The grip on his shoulder pulled back, then movement flashed. Where there had been an empty palm before, there now sat the reddest piece of fruit he¡¯d ever seen.

    It was a display of magic that would have seen the Timothy from before clapping his hands in delight. Now, he simply eyed the tomato with iron focus.

    He was about to test his luck and snatch it, make a mad dash through the crowd, when the hand stretched forward.

    ¡°Go ahead, take it,¡± the prince said.

    Timothy hesitated¡ªwas this some sneaky rich kid way of getting me in trouble?

    But the knotted rock in his stomach would not be denied.

    His hand¡ªhoned from nearly a year scrounging on the street¡ªsnaked forward with uncanny speed, plucking the tomato from the prince¡¯s hand and shoving it toward his face. He took three swift bites¡ªhis cheeks chipmunked out¡ªbefore the prince could try and renege on the offer.

    Instead of being angry as Timothy had expected, the prince chuckled lightly and nodded in a direction obscured by the now thronging adults.

    ¡°Come on, Timothy. Let¡¯s get you truly fed.¡±

    The streets of Wichita faded at the edges, slowly drawn in until he found himself back in the warehouse office. His thoughts were alien as the dissociation from Timothy began.

    It had felt so real; he had been the young street orphan for a moment.

    When his thoughts became ordered once more, he turned toward Silver.

    ¡°That was real,¡± he whispered. ¡°I remember that little boy.¡± He shook his head to clear the lingering sensations of another body. ¡°Why? Why did you show me that?¡±

    The Weaver didn¡¯t react externally, but Terry felt its aura retracting slowly, pulling back from where it had connected to his own.

    ¡°Do you remember when you Awakened?¡±

    Terry was thrown off by the oblique line of questioning, but answered anyway.

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°And do you remember what I told you about your path?¡±

    The words came back to him like they had been yesterday, the memory implanted so powerfully he didn¡¯t even have to stretch to reach them.

    ¡°You said I was picking the Resonance. That it was how I would accomplish the most good. You said, ¡®The alignment of your perspective, powers, and my own goals.¡¯¡±

    The Silver avatar nodded. ¡°Yes. You wondered how am I any better? Well, let me answer your question with my own: have I led you astray in any way?¡±

    The lingering memory of that little boy¡¯s gnawing hunger panged at his stomach. A stone-cold certainty filled him in that moment; that boy would have died without that tomato, and the rest of the food Terry had given him. There had been hundreds of children just like Timothy, and he had fed as many of them as he could.

    His thoughts drifted then, trailing over his journey to Terraform¡¯s Market. Did any of them survive Qui Shen without Terry¡¯s arrival? Did Dancer consume both Terraform and Qui Shen¡¯s Singularities without his System guiding him to Marlon at that exact moment in time?

    He thought of Crimson Spear and the Bloodsplatter Clan, wasting away on the Surface. All the ghoul clans, deprived of Blood and waiting for death to find them once and for all.

    Without the Metaphysical Singularity, perhaps the entire Underworld perished over the next few decades.

    There was the niggling thought that the Weaver was ancient, with a power that he could hardly comprehend. A being like that would surely be capable of playing the long game, of manipulating someone like him who was so eager to be the hero.

    He recognized that need in himself, understood it was an angle that could be leveraged against him.

    But despite the cold logic of that realization, there was an underpinning of rightness to everything he¡¯d done since Awakening. His intuition told him¡ªscreamed at him¡ªthat he had been doing good, and it was with the powerful support of the Weaver that he had managed to do that good.

    ¡°I think I believe you,¡± he said slowly. ¡°But I have a simple question and I want the truth. I¡¯ll know if you¡¯re lying.¡± He didn¡¯t know how he knew that, but he did. There was something awakening inside him unrelated to power or magic, some truth unraveling before him that he was beginning to decipher. It was like the layer beneath the surface was finally revealing itself.

    He took a breath, then opened himself, taking in the fullness of the Weaver¡¯s being. It was an overwhelming experience, like trying to take in a mountain range up close. The Weaver stretched into infinity, his perspective too narrow to truly appreciate what stood before him.

    And then¡­the Weaver opened to him, revealing a piece of itself¡ªa narrow slice in the grand scheme of its entire being¡ªand his throat clenched at the truth he saw there, the answer to his unspoken question.

    His awareness both hovered over and encompassed a small section of Earth in its entirety. He knew everything about that tiny piece¡ªevery smell, every sound, every microbe and speck of dust revealed to him in a dizzying, singular sensation that he couldn¡¯t fully process.

    In that little slice of totality, he both saw and was the boy standing behind a folding table, an apron pulled over his head. He was bigger now, his cheeks full, his limbs energized when they had once been emaciated and weak.

    As Timothy doled out a ladle of stew to a little girl holding a bowl, Terry began to weep.

    There was no faking what he was seeing, what he was feeling. No matter how powerful this being was, he knew in his heart of hearts that he was seeing the boy in real time. It was too much stimuli and he was forced to pull away from the Weaver even as he took that sense of hope he¡¯d felt nestled deep in Timothy¡¯s soul and bottled it up inside of him.

    After taking a few moments to recover, he wiped at his eyes, turning them up toward the Weaver in Silver¡¯s form.

    ¡°I believe you¡­¡±

 B2 - Chapter 45: Empyrean Covenant

    The Weaver let him sit in silence for a minute as he processed everything it had said and not said.

    When he finally felt back in a state of balance after the heady experience of living Timothy¡¯s memories, he asked the question it had dodged earlier.

    ¡°What is the Empyrean Covenant?¡±

    Silver¡¯s face didn¡¯t react, but he was beginning to get a surface read on the Weaver¡¯s towering aura. He wasn¡¯t arrogant enough to believe he was seeing anything it didn¡¯t want him to, but he suspected he was simply becoming aware of a series of expressions that he had been too inexperienced to recognize.

    And the Weaver was pleased at the question.

    ¡°We are a collection of ascended beings, banded together against a common foe.¡±

    ¡°Chaos?¡±

    The Weaver made a yes-and-no gesture with Silver¡¯s head.

    ¡°Chaos is one of their weapons, not the totality of their existence.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re doing it again,¡± he said wryly. ¡°Being purposefully oblique.¡±

    The avatar smiled. ¡°I am, aren¡¯t I?¡± The Weaver¡¯s aura took on a thoughtful tinge and Terry resisted the urge to press. ¡°I will tell you some things I normally wouldn¡¯t. Yes, I sense your initial reaction. You are wondering if I am playing you once more, making you feel special to bend you to my will.¡±

    Terry hemmed and hawed a bit before replying. ¡°Well, not in so many words¡­¡±

    The avatar smiled. ¡°We are creatures of manipulation, Terry. You would be naive not to question my motives. But in this instance, I will tell you my motives so that you understand the manipulation occurring. In this way, I will impress upon you the truthfulness of what I say next.¡±

    He felt a thrill in his chest that he tried to suppress. Despite the Weaver¡¯s warning, he was eager to hear more than its usual taciturn explanations.

    ¡°I intend for you to be my Champion on Earth, Terry.¡±

    The words rocked him, resonating deeply with that very lever he had guarded against: his need to be a hero.

    The Weaver recognized his thoughts immediately, nodding.

    ¡°Yes, I understand the difficulty in hearing those words, but they are true. Not only have I chosen you as my Champion, but I aim for you to become the Omega¡ªwhen you are ready.¡±

    The sequence of events leading to this moment took on a different flavor at that revelation.

    ¡°Were you using me when I kept my mother from becoming the Omega?¡± It was the burning question etched into his mind. ¡°Were you lying earlier about the Spectral Singularity being infected?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± That single word carried a weight to it, peeling back the layers of reality to expose the resonating truth in the Weaver¡¯s aura. ¡°I say again: No. Your mother becoming the Omega would have had devastating consequences, not just for your world, but the connected worlds, as well.¡±

    He chewed his lip in thought, trying to separate the emotional resonance of its aura and the rational thoughts of his brain. This was a creature so utterly above him in power and experience, that it was stupid not to be skeptical of anything and everything it said.

    And yet, he felt like he was glimpsing into the heart of a god. The connection he felt to its aura was so naked and exposed; he felt a soul-deep certainty that the Weaver couldn¡¯t lie to him in this moment.

    Maybe that was another layer of manipulation all in itself. But he didn¡¯t need to commit one way or the other to hear it out.

    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s say I believe you. Why me? And what does being your Champion even mean?¡±

    ¡°Do you remember what I said to you when we first met? I am the teacher, training you to be the lion, for there are horrors beyond your world that would turn it all to ash. By selecting you as my Champion, it means I am specifically shepherding you to delve out into the universe and turn back those that would see it all burn.¡±

    The Silver avatar smiled, a twinkle of humor in its eyes.

    ¡°As for why you. Well, I think I showed you that reason when we witnessed young Timothy¡¯s memories.¡±

    He wrinkled his nose at that. ¡°There¡¯s lots of people who would have done the same.¡±

    The Weaver tilted its head. ¡°Less than you might think. But I am extrapolating on not only what you¡¯ve done, but will do. You¡¯re a touch too humble to believe me, so let¡¯s leave it at that until our next meeting.¡±

    He narrowed his eyes but didn¡¯t press. The Weaver was right, he didn¡¯t think he was some paragon of justice or good. He wanted to be, but he also knew he possessed plenty of faults as well.

    ¡°So I¡¯ll be your Champion, delving out into the universe to turn back evil or something. But who¡¯s our enemy? It seems like we¡¯re fighting the other Systems more than anything.¡±

    ¡°You are correct, my fellow members of the Empyrean Covenant are united against the enemy, but that is all. We impose rules upon ourselves to limit collateral damage, which is why we operate through proxies. But we are aligned on only two purposes: defense against the enemy, and pursuit of greater power. What we do with that power differs. I aim to bring harmony and strength to our worlds. Some align with my purpose. Others, less so.¡±

    He chewed on those statements for a moment, trying to separate the two relevant thoughts bubbling to the surface.

    ¡°Why do you say ¡®the enemy?¡¯ This is one being that has you all scared?¡±

    ¡°In a word: yes. But there are two reasons I phrase it as such. One, I am restricted from revealing much more unless you were to become the Omega of your world. And two, I hesitate to say any of its names and potentially draw its attention to you.¡±

    A shiver traced up his back at that.

    ¡°Me? But I¡¯m just a D-ranker¡ªwell, C-ranker now, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Even its regard is not something you are ready for¡ªnot yet.¡± The Weaver settled back into the couch, waving away the concern etched into his face. ¡°Don¡¯t think about it anymore. You are blossoming into your potential, Terry, but there is still a long way to travel before you face its proxies.

    ¡°For now, I want you to focus on growing as strong as you can, as fast as you can.¡±

    Terry nodded, leaning forward in anxious anticipation.

    ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°Lean into the powers you¡¯ve been cultivating. I¡¯ll direct you with Quests as best I can, but this is the only time we¡¯ll be able to communicate directly until your Capstone.¡±

    He felt a flush of disappointment at those words.

    ¡°I have been leaning into my powers, haven¡¯t I? Don¡¯t you have anything more concrete to¡­¡±

    He trailed off as the Silver avatar adopted a whimsical smile that was foreign on his features.

    ¡°I thought you¡¯d never ask.¡±

    The far wall of the office distorted, revealing three posters like the ones that used to hang in his bedroom.

    His eyes lit up as he realized what that meant¡ªClass choices!

    He shot to his feet, quick-stepping to the posters with a haste that made the Silver avatar chuckle.

    Even before it spoke, he could feel the options before him.

    ¡°You no doubt recognize the form I¡¯ve taken in the leftmost option.¡± Sure enough, an image of Silver occupied that poster, his skin sheathed in metal as he crashed against the flaming figure of Qui Shen. ¡°Your maternal grandfather has fully digested two of the Singularities and stands as one of the strongest Awakened on Earth. Despite his physical strength, his foundation was built during his time as an Elementalist. Should you choose to follow in his footsteps, I see you continuing the work you started with your Master of Telekinesis Skill, acquiring the ability to manipulate a spectrum of elements at will.¡±

    An image flashed in his mind, him flying through the sky as he harnessed air, wrapped himself in metal armor like Silver, and wielded fire like Qui Shen. Once upon a time, it would have been the purest form of a superhero he could envision. Now, it felt more like a Saturday morning cartoon brought to life rather than his path.

    The Weaver seemed to sense his thoughts, because it moved on immediately to the next poster. The images came to life as his mother appeared before him. All the years of adoration and love he felt for her flared bright in that moment. It was an overwhelming feeling, one of respect and awe that threatened to hijack his thoughts.

    He pushed them down, observing her in action as the Weaver spoke.

    ¡°The White Rose began as a Hypnotist before transitioning to Distorter, and ultimately, Alterant. She has achieved a level of aura control and projection that is unrivaled on Earth. Not only would I rank her as the strongest Awakened among your people, I would also put forth that she possesses a pure spirit and has used that strength admirably. I gave you the choice in our last meeting to follow your mother¡¯s path, which you refused. Now, I offer you the reverse. If you choose to realign with her, you will transition to Distorter. With your natural sensitivity for aura control and manipulation, your enemies would find their own powers neutered or turned against them. Coupled with your ability to catalog powersets, you would be nearly unbeatable in one-on-one fights.¡±

    That statement appealed to Terry¡¯s childhood dreams even more than the Saturday morning cartoon caricature that was Silver¡¯s path. But there was something in the Weaver¡¯s tone¡ªand his own intuition¡ªthat was telling him that wasn¡¯t the right path for him either.

    As much as it might have annoyed him that the Weaver was clearly burying the lede, he also found it freeing to see those tempting paths and find that he had no desire to follow them.

    ¡°And finally, just as before, I offer you the Resonance. It¡¯s a confirmation more than a first step. Perhaps less exciting than flinging elements or smashing your enemies¡ª¡±

    ¡°Let me guess: it¡¯s the one I can do the most good.¡±

    The Weaver snorted, a very human gesture that made Terry smile.

    ¡°I thought we established good and evil were subjective?¡± the Weaver asked in Silver¡¯s wry tone. ¡°But yes, subjectively, it¡¯s the path that yields the most Terry-good.¡±

    Terry laughed at that, shaking his head.

    ¡°Fine, I¡¯m okay with that term. Tell me what Class leads to the most Terry-good.¡±

    Silver-Weaver tilted its head. ¡°Alterant, of course.¡±

    ¡°How did I know you were gonna say that¡­¡±

    It smiled at him, an eerie smile filled with the portent of something to come.

    ¡°Because you understand that your strength has never been the portals you learned from Marlon. Neither was it the metal manipulation you learned from Silver. Not even the Body Tempering from your father, except in the literal sense.¡± Its smile widened. ¡°Your strength has been your experimentations, your cataloging of other¡¯s Skills and the subsequent creation of new Skills. But believe me when I tell you, Terry¡­you¡¯ve only begun to scratch the surface.¡±

    Excitement gripped his chest, his eyes trailing over the third poster in anticipation.

    ¡°What? No cool visions of me workshopping late into the night over some revolutionary new power?¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    The Weaver shook its head. ¡°Unlike the other paths, yours is your own. If I give you too much, I¡¯d only end up leading you astray.¡±

    ¡°Oh, so you are fallible?¡± he asked with a sarcastic tone.

    ¡°I am.¡± The Silver avatar leaned in conspiratorially. ¡°Don¡¯t tell anyone.¡±

    Terry chuckled, shaking his head before turning back to the poster of him. It was just¡­him. Older, wounded and weary as before. But there was a sense of solidness to that image, of power and inevitability that seemed to vibrate on the same frequency as the current him.

    ¡°You already know what I¡¯m gonna pick.¡± He turned back. ¡°So how do I pick¡ª¡±

    The Weaver began to dissipate, a beaming smile on Silver¡¯s face.

    ¡°You already have.¡±

    He groaned in annoyance as the Weaver¡¯s presence pulled back. There were so many more questions to ask!

    But as his consciousness seemed to fall back into his body, that sense of glimpsing beneath the fabric of the universe seemed to pull away from him.

    When his limbs registered once more in his mind, he realized he was drifting in a pool of thick liquid. Notifications streamed across his eyelids, nearly overwhelming him.

    C-rank achieved! Status Sheet updated!

    New Affixation slots created ¡ª 3 C-ranked slots

    New Class Skill: [Identify Skill Combinations]

    Identify Skill Combinations ¡ª C (Upgradeable)

    Activate to identify compatible Skill combinations in user¡¯s catalog or aura perception.

    Note: Class Skills upgrade as the user ranks up.

    Combine Powers has automatically combined Genetic Analysis and Metaphysical Analysis into Master of Skill Analysis.

    New Skill: [Master of Skill Analysis]

    Master of Skill Analysis ¡ª C (Upgradeable)

    Activate to attempt identification of all active powers in a radius. Radius and success of identification are dependent on aura perception and strength.

    Cataloging no longer requires genetic data.

    Note: This is an upgradeable Skill. As users rank, understanding, and aura control increase, so can this Skill.

    Skills upgraded!

    High-Efficiency Light and Matter Transportation, Aura Snapshot, Master of Light, and Master of Telekinesis upgraded to C-rank

    Choose Affixations now?

    Bonus Objective reward calculated

    Two talent points awarded

    Stronger Together reward calculated

    New Skill awarded: [Loan Skill]

    Loan Skill (C ¡ª Upgradeable)

    Target an individual and activate to temporarily loan one of the user¡¯s Affixed Skills. Selected Skill will be downranked if target¡¯s aura is not at the Skill¡¯s rank. Selected Skill can be upranked if target¡¯s aura is at an appropriate rank and compatible with the loaned Skill.

    Length of loan is dependent on both target and loaned Skill¡¯s rank. User cannot loan Class Skills. User cannot activate loaned Skills while the loan is in effect.

    Note: This is an upgradeable Skill. As caster¡¯s rank increases, so will this Skill.

    Summons home prepared. Accept?

    As much as he wanted to dive more into those notifications, he felt a number of presences looming over him.

    Even before his eyes opened, he knew who it was and he smiled.

    ¡°Hey, Juan.¡± His voice was hoarse, his body itched and burned¡­but he was alive and so were his friends.

    ¡°He¡¯s awake!¡± the man cried, his hands reaching down to grip Terry¡¯s arms. ¡°Bro! We thought you were toast!¡±

    ¡°Welcome back.¡±

    Terry looked to the left to see Ben standing there, no longer covered in ice armor. As he glanced toward the large man, Terry spotted black, inky substance pooling along the ground.

    The sight brought him back to the present and he sat up in a daze.

    ¡°Whoa, take it slow, bro.¡±

    Despite the dizziness, the terrible wounds in his arm and shoulder that had almost bled him dry, and the sheer aura he had been forced to expend¡­he felt great.

    Better than great, actually.

    As he glanced about, he noticed his entire team arrayed around him, all standing ankle-deep in the Blood of the Mother. Al¡¯Ruzan was on one knee, while Mara-Lin-Jaid applied Blood gently to his wounds. Crimson Spear and Obsidian Blade were conversing in low tones, but nodded toward him as he looked over.

    ¡°What happened?¡± he asked, then the confused looks on the others¡¯ faces reminded him to use the team chat.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: What happened?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: We won!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: The bloodsuckers fled once we came through!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: They heard of our triumphant descent and trembled in our presence! All fled before Chippy!

    </blockquote>

    Terry laughed at that, then caught Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s eyes. There was a hint of amusement there, strange on her normally serious face. She stood beside Al¡¯Ruzan whose yellow eyes were difficult to read.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You saw all of this, didn¡¯t you?

    </blockquote>

    She shrugged, the corner of her lip turning up for the briefest flash.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: I don¡¯t know what you mean. My visions are useless.

    </blockquote>

    As his thoughts cleared from his meeting with the Weaver, the sequence of events played out in his mind. He¡¯d originally intended for Al¡¯Ruzan to sneak past the dukes and return the Lakarot. He suspected that would have sealed their fate and they would all have died before restoring the Blood of the Mother.

    But Mara-Lin-Jaid had somehow known Lilith was hiding inside the Chamber. The part that tickled at the back of his brain was Juan¡¯s presence. His fire illuminating the Chamber had been what sapped Lilith¡¯s speed in that pivotal moment.

    He thought back to that Quest he¡¯d received when he¡¯d arrived: Stronger Together. It was only in this moment that he understood that the Weaver had orchestrated this whole thing.

    Without Chippy and Py, the Bonesplatter Clan never would have made it in range of the bone charm. The bone charm might not even have occurred to him as an idea without them.

    And without Juan, the two of them and the Bloodsplatter Clan never would have made it past the sanguine attacks¡ªnot even factoring in his impact on the battle with Lilith.

    Without Al¡¯Ruzan, Terry would have died to the sanguine elite that took him over the side of the bridge.

    And without Mara-Lin-Jaid¡¯s vision, Lilith killed them all and took the Lakarot for herself.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: That¡¯s too bad. Here I was thinking you actually saved us all.

    </blockquote>

    She shrugged casually and he had to laugh. Looking around, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a warmth in his chest. They¡¯d all made it through¡ªeven most of the Bloodsplatter Clan¡ªand they now had their return ticket home.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I suppose this is where we part ways? As much as I¡¯ll miss you all, I did leave home a bit of a mess before I left.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Yeah, my abuela¡¯s gonna rip me a new one¡­

    </blockquote>

    Juan¡¯s face dropped and Terry snorted.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Simply tell this abuela that you saved an entire world and personally slayed hundreds of vampires! She will surely wish to mate with you then!

    </blockquote>

    Juan¡¯s eyes bugged out and he did a double-take between Terry and Chippy. Terry laughed out loud as Ben shook his head in disbelief.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Um, bro¡­what do you think abuela means?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Your prospective mate¡­?

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: It¡¯s my grandmother, bro! My father¡¯s mother! Oh my, God, I¡¯m gonna have that image in my head for months.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: How could Chippy know this?

    </blockquote>

    Chippy squeaked, raising his tiny hoverboard with a flex of aura until he was face-to-face with everyone.

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Did you all know this word?

    </blockquote>

    Py Dar shrugged her four arms.

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: Certainly didn¡¯t think it meant prospective mate¡­

    </blockquote>

    Chippy squeaked indignantly, a cute, high-pitched sound that made most of them laugh. Only Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid remained quiet, an obvious undercurrent in their postures.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: And you two?

    </blockquote>

    He almost didn¡¯t ask, but he was curious. The two of them had lived together in that small cave for over a year and there were clearly feelings there that extended beyond simple survival.

    Mara-Lin-Jaid looked up into Al¡¯Ruzan¡¯s eyes, her arm reaching around his waist.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: We decided to stay. We will help these people rebuild. After that, who knows?

    </blockquote>

    Py, Juan, and Chippy shared surprised looks, but Terry simply nodded.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: I wish you two the best. If you ever make it to a place called Earth, any of you, know you¡¯ll have at least two friends.

    </blockquote>

    He indicated Juan with a wave, who nodded agreement.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: Three.

    </blockquote>

    Terry looked over in surprise.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You¡¯re coming home?

    </blockquote>

    Ben shrugged casually, though Terry could see he was masking his aura carefully.

    His mouth opened a few times, then clamped shut, typing out a group response instead.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: Did what I came here to do. It¡¯s time.

    </blockquote>

    Terry smiled at that, thinking of his mother and grandfather¡¯s reunion with his uncle. Ben scowled at first, then twisted the scowl into a smile.

    <blockquote>

    [Ben]: Suppose there¡¯s no reason to wait around. I¡¯m going to say farewell to Crimson Spear, then I¡¯ll return to Earth. Good luck to you all.

    </blockquote>

    He inclined his head to Al¡¯Ruzan, then waved to the group, turning to find the Bloodsplatter leader.

    With the reality of their parting setting in, Chippy and Py approached Juan and Terry. They gave each other a group hug, Chippy snuggled in the center on Terry¡¯s lap while Py wrapped her long arms around them all.

    When the moment passed, they separated reluctantly, and Terry spotted tears streaming down Juan¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Oh, come on,¡± Terry joked, slapping Juan¡¯s arm. ¡°Your abuela isn¡¯t gonna be that nasty.¡±

    Juan cry-laughed, a little snort sneaking out. Wiping at his eyes, he smiled toward Py and Chippy.

    <blockquote>

    [Juan Carlos]: Gonna miss you guys!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Py Dar]: We will miss your cooking, Juan Carlos! Terry, thank you for getting us back home!

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: It was a team effort, Py. I¡¯m just glad we all made it.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Chialpuncritis]: Yes, thank you, Terry. Both of you be safe. Juan Carlos, do not mate with your abuela!

    </blockquote>

    Before Juan could protest, a rush of aura enveloped Chippy, pulling him from Py¡¯s arms with a mastery of space travel that made Marlon look like an amateur.

    Terry narrowed his eyes, trying to glean even a small insight into that level of finesse, when Py also was enveloped, disappearing from view.

    Juan shrugged, looking down at Terry.

    ¡°Okay, bro, I think I better get going.¡± A grimace twisted his face. ¡°She really is going to kill me.¡±

    ¡°Maybe. But she¡¯s also gonna be so happy to see you.¡±

    He nodded, forcing a smile on as he took a deep breath.

    ¡°Better rip the band-aid off, no?¡± He lightly punched Terry¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t be a stranger, bro. We¡¯re in the same postal code, after all.¡±

    Terry chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll message you when I¡¯m back. Hey, who knows, maybe I¡¯ll portal down to Mexico and you can host me once things settle down?¡±

    Juan¡¯s face turned serious. ¡°Y-you¡¯d come visit me?¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyebrows rose. ¡°Yeah¡­¡± He punched Juan¡¯s arm. ¡°Bro.¡±

    Juan snorted, pointing at Terry. ¡°I¡¯m gonna hold you to that, prince.¡±

    Before Terry could give him shit for that, Juan disappeared.

    With everyone gone but Mara-Lin-Jaid, Al¡¯Ruzan, and Ben, Terry turned to see his uncle talking with Crimson Spear. The ghoul leader had Obsidian Blade beside him and there seemed to be a new hierarchy developing in realtime.

    Mustering his strength, he got to his feet, the tar-like Blood seeping into his clothes wherever he had laid in it. Beside him, the Aura Filtering Container that once housed the Singularity lay discarded in the pool of liquid. Picking it up, he realized that it had filled with the Blood. He closed it, sealing a decent amount of the substance inside before tucking it in his waistband¡ªit¡¯s not like they had a shortage anymore, he thought wryly.

    As he walked over to Crimson Spear and Ben, he felt that he was joining a conversation near its end.

    The two ghoul leaders spotted him coming and their auras flexed outward, creating the shape of gratitude.

    ¡°We owe as much to you, Lightbringer, as we do to the Lord of Ice.¡± Crimson Spear and Obsidian Blade bowed low, causing Terry¡¯s cheeks to redden. ¡°Should you ever find yourself in the Underworld once more, call upon us.¡±

    ¡°Were we able to reach your world,¡± Obsidian Blade added, ¡°we would offer our aid there, too. We owe you the survival of our entire species.¡±

    That statement gave Terry pause. Who knew what he might be capable of at the S-rank¡ªperhaps he¡¯d be able to teleport between worlds eventually.

    ¡°You honor me, both of you. I¡¯d only ask that you hold onto the bone charm in Crimson Spear¡¯s possession. Perhaps, one day, we may use it to bridge our two worlds.¡±

    Crimson Spear nodded, indicating he had it in his bag with a pat.

    ¡°And I¡¯d ask one more thing, if it¡¯s not too much.¡±

    ¡°Ask,¡± Obsidian Blade said.

    He considered his words, trying to frame them in a way that wouldn¡¯t offend the two.

    ¡°I know us Outsiders have caused your people untold grief. But it was also Outsiders who helped fix their mess.¡± He hesitated, feeling that what he was about to say might be too bold. ¡°I¡­I¡¯d only ask that you treat future Outsiders independently, judging them on their own merits, rather than the sins of those that came before.¡±

    Crimson Spear and Obsidian Blade shared a look, their aura intermingling privately. Terry thought maybe they were preparing to tell him off, when Crimson Spear spoke.

    ¡°Since you requested it, it shall be so, Lightbringer.¡±

    Terry nodded gratefully, smiling though he suspected the ghouls didn¡¯t quite understand the gesture.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll make my way back home.¡± Turning to Ben, he raised his eyebrows in question. ¡°Will I¡­see you there?¡±

    Ben¡¯s eyes twinkled in the dim cavern, a blue-white magic swirling there.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he replied after a moment. ¡°Yes, I think you will.¡±

    Terry nodded, reaching out a hand to pat his arm before changing his mind and pulling the man in for a hug. He felt Ben tense initially, then relax into the embrace.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll see you soon.¡±

    He waved goodbye before turning toward Al¡¯Ruzan and Mara-Lin-Jaid in the distance.

    <blockquote>

    [Terry]: You two be safe.

    </blockquote>

    <blockquote>

    [Al¡¯Ruzan, third of his name]: And you as well.

    </blockquote>

    He waited a moment, but when Mara-Lin-Jaid didn¡¯t immediately respond, he reached with his mind to accept the Summons home. As he did, her message came through.

    <blockquote>

    [Mara-Lin-Jaid]: Thank you, Terry¡­for trusting me.

    </blockquote>

    He was taken aback by the statement at first, then nodded toward her before accepting the prompt.

    Summons accepted.

    That same presence wrapped around him, a stifling, incomprehensible force that felt like a fisherman picking up a guppy. His senses diffracted, vision and sound and touch losing their boundaries as he was transported across space.

    When his eyes opened, the sun shone down on him, warming his skin. A light breeze ruffled his hair across his eyes and the smell of grass pulled at his nose.

    A single notification drifted across his vision.

    Welcome to Earth¡­

 B3 - Chapter 1: Incursions

    For the briefest moment, it didn¡¯t feel real. The sun on his face, the wind blowing his hair, the scent of grass; the irrational thought that this was some dream or construct of the Weaver gripped him tight.

    He engaged his spatial senses, looking for an anchor¡ªphysical or magical.

    The familiar location helped ground him; this was Topeka, the very same field they¡¯d gathered on together right before he had¡­

    He realized how angry the others must be. He¡¯d stolen the Metaphysical Singularity, denying his mother the power that all S-rankers strived for. What had they imagined when he¡¯d shoved it into his chest and disappeared?

    Before he could contemplate the fallout of his decision, System notifications rolled across his vision.

    New Quest Given: [Complete a Master-grade Skill Set]

    Catalog or create a complete set of Master-grade Skills from any Aspect.

    Reward: B-rank

    Elemental Master-grade Skills identified¡­

    Master of Light

    Master of Telekinesis

    Set progress: [2 of 5]

    Metaphysical Master-grade Skills identified¡­

    Master of Skill Analysis

    Set Progress: [1 of 5]

    As the new Quest information filtered in, his eyes widened more and more as he read.

    Master-grade Skills¡­

    And he already possessed two from the Elemental Aspect and one from the Metaphysical Aspect. Depending on which route he decided to focus on, he was well on his way to B-rank.

    The realization hit him then¡­he was a C-ranker. There hadn¡¯t been time to process the change before, but now that he reached for his aura, it was impossible to miss the step up in power. It felt dense, thick whereas it had felt watered down before. It reminded him more of the A-rankers of his grandfather¡¯s court¡ªhis father and the revenants that he¡¯d grown up around. It wasn¡¯t quite on that level, but he could feel the quality of his aura strengthening.

    More than that, he felt its depth, too. It was like going from a kiddy pool to a vast lake.

    Stretching his aura wide, he could feel his senses expanding, reaching past the handful of miles that had been his limit, into the dozens of miles¡ªperhaps even hundreds.

    S-ranking Travelers could cross the globe in a single portal. Silver had shown he could reach the moon using the Physical Singularity. What were his limits? A hundred miles? Two?

    As eager as he was to find out, his new Class Skills practically screamed at him for his attention.

    Skill Synthesis Identification ¡ª C (Upgradeable)

    Activate to identify compatible Skill combinations in user¡¯s catalog or aura perception.

    Note: Class Skills upgrade as the user ranks up.

    Loan Skill (C ¡ª Upgradeable)

    Target an individual and activate to temporarily loan one of the user¡¯s Affixed Skills. Selected Skill will be downranked if target¡¯s aura is not at the Skill¡¯s rank. Selected Skill can be upranked if target¡¯s aura is at an appropriate rank and compatible with the loaned Skill.

    Length of loan is dependent on both target and loaned Skill¡¯s rank. User cannot loan Class Skills. User cannot activate loaned Skills while the loan is in effect.

    Note: This is an upgradeable Skill. As caster¡¯s rank increases, so will this Skill.

    Master of Skill Analysis ¡ª C (Upgradeable)

    Activate to attempt identification of all active powers in a radius. Radius and success of identification are dependent on aura perception and strength.

    Cataloging no longer requires genetic data.

    Note: This is an upgradeable Skill. As users rank, understanding, and aura control increase, so can this Skill.

    He didn¡¯t know where to start! The duo of Skill Synthesis Identification and Master of Skill Analysis were incredible. Not only would he be able to grow his catalog exponentially, but he didn¡¯t require genetic data anymore. Anyone and everyone within range using an active Skill was fair game. In conjunction with his Aura Snapshot, he could simply activate Master of Skill Analysis, take an Aura Snapshot, then begin cataloging and combining Skills in his free time.

    Of course he still had the hard cap of his Affixation slots to consider, but there was no such thing as too many cataloged Skills in his mind.

    The third Skill was one that both excited and concerned him. Loan Skill was something that appeared to have the potential to be absolutely broken. Loaning his diverse set of Skills to an S-ranker like his mother or grandfather appeared to be the best route¡ªassuming their auras were compatible with his Skills.

    What concerned him was the loss of agency. Would he be forever relegated to a Skill battery, loaning out his powers to stronger supers? Of course Silver and his mother had their own powerful skillset with a lot of overlap between his own powers¡ªespecially Silver. But wouldn¡¯t it almost always make sense to loan his mother his portal skill, considering her heightened perception and strength?

    The thought of neutering himself to empower someone else¡ªeven his own mother¡ªdidn¡¯t sit right with him. He¡¯d much rather loan it to Tania to help her achieve her dream of Traveling like her mother.

    He forced those thoughts from his mind, feeling like he would start to spiral if he didn¡¯t.

    Turning to the last set of rewards he had received, he pulled up the available Talent options, smiling as he remembered he had two to allocate instead of one.

    As before, he still had the two baseline options, Condense Aura and Quick Shift. Condense Aura gave him another slot at his rank minus one, while Quick Shift halved his Affixation time. In addition, he still had access to the Mask Signature upgrade, which would make his aura appear like that of a non-Awakened. The upgrade path from Project Aura Signature increased the number of projections to two¡ªnot something he felt was necessary.

    But for the first time, he also saw an upgrade available for his very first Talent, Versatile. Versatile allowed him to interchange his Affixation slots at a rate of one slot at a higher rank equaling two slots at the next rank down. He used this extensively to slot all of his D-rank Skills using two E-slots, or occasionally one E-slot and two F-slots.

    The upgrade he saw now though made his eyes bug out in surprise.

    Talent Upgrade: Versatile

    Enhance Versatile such that two Affixation slots at the user¡¯s current rank can be utilized for a Skill one rank higher. At user¡¯s current rank, two C-slots can be used for a single B-slot. This Talent can only be used for a single slot.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Prerequisite: Versatile

    Though he didn¡¯t have any B-ranked Skills yet, he knew plenty of people that would be happy to let him copy one or two. And the implication of being able to utilize an A-ranked Skill at B-rank, or an S-rank Skill at the A-rank, was staggering to consider. He didn¡¯t know what would happen when he reached S-rank, but it didn¡¯t matter¡ªthis Talent was too good to pass up on.

    With barely a second thought, he took the Versatile upgrade, his aura shifting almost imperceptibly in response.

    That left one Talent point and he considered his remaining options.

    Condense Aura seemed anemic in comparison to the upgraded Versatile, while upgraded Mask Signature appealed slightly more. He also considered Quick Shift, remembering back to the Underworld when he¡¯d been helpless as he¡¯d switched his Affixations. The last option was to upgrade Project Aura Snapshot and if he really used his imagination, he could find some useful circumstances for projecting two versions of his aura to confuse enemies.

    But the truth was, he didn¡¯t feel any of the Talents calling to him. He wasn¡¯t in a rush, so he decided to hold that point in reserve for now.

    With the decision to hold off made, he snapped back into the present, turning his vision from the series of System prompts to the world around him.

    It was the same field that had stretched before the Black Wall before the coalition of supers had torn it down. He could still picture the hundreds of Market refugees milling about as the S-rankers demolished the hulking sore bisecting Topeka.

    As he turned, taking in the sight once more, he spotted a tall piece of smooth granite and what appeared to be a guard house of some sort beside it. On the granite were markings and he strode forward to get a better look.

    It only took him a moment longer to realize it was a memorial. A list of names stretched down the rock face, etched into the stone. At the top, larger text proclaimed this site as a memorial to those lost in the fight against Qui Shen.

    Though he didn¡¯t recognize any of the names from a quick glance, he still felt his heart clench as he counted over one hundred people lost to the fire.

    He couldn¡¯t help but wonder how many of them would be alive now if Dancer hadn¡¯t refused assistance.

    The thought made him angry all over again, dredging up feelings he hadn¡¯t had time to process back in the Underworld.

    He neared the memorial, running his hand down the engravings, when someone cleared his throat beside him.

    ¡°Pardon me, sir¡­but are you Terrence Fairway?¡±

    He turned to see a uniformed man exiting the little shack beside the memorial. Terry didn¡¯t recognize the uniform, but it had a definite military flair to it.

    His senses told Terry that the man was an Awakened, but he felt like an F- or E-ranker¡ªnot someone who could threaten him if his intentions were violent.

    ¡°Just Terry, but yeah, that¡¯s me.¡±

    The man¡¯s expression had been sort of bored, a disinterested droop to his eyes. But at hearing the confirmation, the man immediately straightened, his eyes widening in shock.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe it,¡± he muttered to himself. Out loud, he added, ¡°Beggin¡¯ your pardon, sir. I have strict orders to inform the Protectorate when you returned.¡±

    That statement puzzled Terry; he¡¯d never heard of a super outfit called the Protectorate.

    ¡°Who are they?¡± he asked.

    The guard¡¯s eyes seemed to widen even further, then his mouth opened in realization.

    ¡°I forgot, you¡¯ve been gone on your Midmark.¡± The man smiled at that, leaning in excitedly like he was passing along some good news. ¡°The Protectorate are the coalition of S-rankers formed after the death of Dancer.¡±

    Terry felt his heart skip a beat at that. Had the SPC reformed into a new group? Were they hostile to his family?

    ¡°Who¡¯s leading them?¡± he asked.

    The man¡¯s smile widened. ¡°They don¡¯t have leaders exactly¡­¡± He shrugged. ¡°But if I had to choose, I¡¯d say the White Rose is the de facto leader. Most everyone seems to love her, anyway.¡±

    He felt the tension drain from his shoulders at that, a deep breath escaping his lips.

    ¡°I¡¯ve sent a message to General Terraform¡ª¡± Terry¡¯s brow arched at that. ¡°¡ªon account of the other members being occupied with the Incursions. General Terraform¡¯s responsible for the Interior, so he¡¯ll be closer.¡±

    Terry¡¯s mind stuttered over a single word.

    ¡°Wait, hold on¡­what do you mean, ¡®Incursions?¡¯¡±

    The man¡¯s face shifted through a series of conflicted expressions before settling on a sort of half-cringe.

    ¡°Done did it again,¡± he said with a soft knock on his forehead. ¡°Keep forgetting you been gone.¡± The man sighed, shaking his head. ¡°Whole world¡¯s gone batshit. Asia fell in a matter o¡¯ days.¡± He sighed. ¡°That was just the start. They popped up all over¡ªJapan, South America, Africa¡ª¡±

    New Quest Given: [Defend Against Incursion Rifts]

    Enter and clear ten rifts at your current rank or higher.

    Reward: Variable

    Bonus Objective: Solo clear a rank-appropriate rift.

    Bonus Reward: Variable

    Incursion rifts¡­

    That sounded ominous, but before he could press the guard for more information, aura rippled across his senses. It was a deft touch manipulating space, presaging the portal that opened a half-second later.

    Master of Skill Analysis has detected active Skills. Display?

    He ignored the notification, a smile stretching tight across his face as he recognized the two presences passing through the portal.

    When Terraform and Marlon appeared, his smile dropped at the harried looks on their faces.

    Despite the fatigue plainly visible, Terraform smiled upon seeing Terry, while Marlon arched a brow, looking him up and down appraisingly.

    ¡°Terry!¡± Terraform¡¯s voice was full of an excitement that belayed his apparent exhaustion. ¡°Thank the Systems you¡¯re back!¡±

    The man strode forward, wrapping Terry in a hug. He returned the embrace, but felt so many questions on his lips.

    When they pulled back, Terry looked between the two men.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on, Terraform? What¡¯s this about Incursions?¡±

    Marlon glared at the lone guard, who suddenly realized he had something urgent to attend to in his little hut. As for Terraform, his forced smile faltered, a troubled look in his eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s not good, Terry. Shortly after you left¡­with the Metaphysical Singularity¡ª¡± The arch in his brow told Terry he was curious, but he didn¡¯t press the issue. ¡°¡ªall the S-rankers received an addendum to our Become the Omega Quest. The gist of it is: because we assembled the seven Singularities but failed to form the Omega, the Systems gave leave to other worlds to invade our own.¡±

    Terry¡¯s eyes widened and he took an involuntary step back. The guilt stabbed at his chest and he was forced to remind himself that it had saved an entire world.

    He only hoped he hadn¡¯t inadvertently doomed his own in the process¡­

    Terraform sensed his warring emotions, sighing heavily. ¡°I won¡¯t presume to understand why you did what you did. I know you aren¡¯t one to covet power for yourself, so I¡¯ll assume your System made the choice for you.¡±

    Terry opened his mouth to reply, but Terraform held out his hand.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter, Terry. I trust you. The fact that you don¡¯t have it on you concerns me, but what¡¯s done is done.¡±

    He looked toward Marlon as if to convince the man to echo his sentiment, but Marlon simply scowled in response. Terraform rolled his eyes, turning back to Terry.

    ¡°As far as we can tell, there are multiple Awakened worlds with access to these rifts. They¡¯re rank locked, and for now, there haven¡¯t been any S-grade rifts¡­¡±

    Terry felt overwhelmed, his mind struggling to process how quickly things had devolved while he was gone.

    ¡°So¡­we¡¯re winning, right?¡±

    For some reason, his brain went right to that question.

    Terraform frowned, glancing over at Marlon.

    ¡°No, boy,¡± Marlon growled. ¡°We are not winning.¡±

    He staggered at that, double-taking between the two men. ¡°But if there are no S-rankers coming through¡­surely my mom and Silver could hold off an army of A-rankers?¡±

    ¡°So what?¡± Marlon grunted. ¡°We¡¯ve got a couple o¡¯ walking nukes. But the thing about nukes is, you can¡¯t use ¡®em with precision, and certainly not without collateral.¡±

    Terraform pinched his lips, nodding agreement.

    ¡°And there are dozens of active rifts at any one time. And the forces of at least six worlds that we¡¯ve identified so far.¡± His face darkened. ¡°Truth is Terry, we¡¯re stretched thin. Rose and Silver are powerful trump cards, but they can¡¯t be everywhere at once. And anywhere they do clash with invading A-rankers¡­¡± He trailed off, a far-away look in his eyes.

    Marlon snorted angrily. ¡°Atlanta¡¯s gone.¡±

    Terry felt a rock settle in his gut.

    ¡°You don¡¯t mean¡­¡±

    Terraform nodded sadly. ¡°We evacuated millions¡­but we lost millions, too.¡±

    Terry turned away, as if that would stop him from being forced to face the truth.

    ¡°War is hell, son,¡± Marlon said softly behind him. ¡°And there¡¯s a reason S-rankers shouldn¡¯t fight.¡±

    He felt his breath catch as he tried to understand the implications of what they were telling him.

    Millions dead¡­

    ¡°Can we¡­I don¡¯t know¡­¡± He turned back, a desperate feeling welling in his chest. ¡°Can we sue for peace?¡±

    Marlon scowled behind Terraform, but Terry kept his gaze on the S-ranker. He scanned the man¡¯s face, yearning for some sign of hope in his eyes.

    He didn¡¯t like what he saw.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Terry. I truly don¡¯t know. We¡¯re on the back foot, and any student of war will tell you that you don¡¯t negotiate on the back foot. If we¡¯re gonna bring the other worlds to the table, we¡¯ll need to do it on the tail of a real victory.¡±

    ¡°Or bring the fight to them,¡± Marlon growled.

    Terry¡¯s gaze cut toward the man. ¡°Is that¡­is that possible?¡±

    Terraform looked doubtful, but there was a fire in Marlon¡¯s eyes that drew Terry in.

    ¡°It¡¯s possible, boy.¡± His voice was quiet, but full of venom. ¡°It¡¯s possible¡­¡±

    Terraform interjected. ¡°The problem is that we can only send our own lower ranks as well. Spread across six worlds¡ªat a minimum¡ªwouldn¡¯t accomplish much.¡± He looked toward Marlon, who furrowed his nose as if in anticipation of what the man was going to say next. ¡°And from what we gather¡­each of these invading worlds¡­has their own Omega. We¡¯d be sending our A-rankers into a slaughterhouse. For now, our guidance has been to close the rifts rather than press on to the connecting world.¡±

    He staggered at that revelation, feeling overwhelmed by the state of the world after only being back for a handful of minutes. Why had the Systems rigged the game against Earth so hard? Was this payback for returning the Metaphysical Singularity to the Underworld, or was there more to this whole thing?

    ¡°Where¡¯s my mother?¡±

    Terraform nodded as if he¡¯d been expecting the question.

    ¡°She¡¯s currently engaged with the spillover of an A-ranked Incursion over the San Francisco Bay.¡± Terry felt his heart skip a beat. It was one thing hearing about a battle that was over and done with. It was entirely another to hear she was fighting right now. ¡°She asked me to send you to your father in the meanwhile. He¡¯s in Dallas with Necroton.¡±

    He tried to send his mother a System message, but just as before when he had tried after Awakening, there seemed to be no connection available.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t she accept System messages?¡±

    Terraform looked at Marlon who sniffed.

    ¡°She scraped her System off,¡± the man said casually. ¡°Something I considered but never had the balls to do.¡±

    Scraped it off¡­? He knew she had been tortured by her System. Had even taken the drastic step of assisted suicide just to inoculate herself from it. He had never had a chance to ask what had happened after the fact, whether or not she was still Dad¡¯s revenant or¡­something more.

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Terry asked.

    ¡°They¡¯re parasites, boy. Hers was particularly insidious from what she said. Went in like a surgeon and excised the cancer.¡±

    Terraform frowned at Marlon¡¯s choice of words, quickly adding to the context.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t have a System anymore, so we can¡¯t message her. We try to have an attache with her at all times to relay important news¡ª¡±

    Terry latched onto that, interrupting Terraform with a desperate energy. ¡°Who?¡±

    Terraform bit his lip at the question, causing Terry to narrow his eyes.

    ¡°Who?¡±

    When Terraform didn¡¯t immediately answer, Marlon interjected.

    ¡°It¡¯s that furry bastard. Revenant of your grandfather.¡±

    Terry felt his fists clench as he realized who they were referring to.

    ¡°Savage¡­¡±

 B3 - Chapter 2: Dallas

    The thought of communicating with his mother through Savage made his skin hot. Something about the memory of the furred monster unhinging his jaw to take Crunch¡¯s arm had never left him.

    He didn¡¯t think he could use Savage as a liaison.

    Turning to Marlon, he injected as much need into his tone as he could.

    ¡°Can you take me to San Francisco? Savage and I aren¡¯t exactly on speaking terms.¡±

    Before Marlon could respond, Terraform was shaking his head.

    ¡°Absolutely not, Terry. It¡¯s a warzone right now.¡±

    ¡°I can turn invisible!¡± he argued. ¡°And I can portal out of any danger. Tell him, Marlon.¡±

    But when he turned toward the Traveler, the look on the man¡¯s face wasn¡¯t the solace of an ally, but the frown of someone forced to acknowledge a truth he didn¡¯t care for.

    ¡°Marlon¡­¡±

    The man grunted, furrowing his nose. ¡°Listen, boy. I¡¯m not one to coddle you or keep you from danger. But even I ain¡¯t circumventing your mother¡¯s orders. She¡¯d string me up by my ball¡ª¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Marlon,¡± Terraform interrupted pointedly before turning a sympathetic look toward Terry. ¡°I understand, Terry¡ªtruly. But those are A- and S-rankers fighting over that bay.¡± Terry opened his mouth to protest, but Terraform cut over him. ¡°Imagine if one of their A-rankers took you hostage. Just think of the ramifications. Would your mother have the fortitude to let you die? Let you be tortured? Would she trade you for San Francisco? The west coast?¡±

    She wouldn¡¯t do that, he wanted to say. But that would be a lie. He didn¡¯t know how far she would go, but it was certainly further than he was willing to let her.

    He stewed in that realization, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried to find some other way to reconnect with her that didn¡¯t involve Savage.

    After a few moments, he reluctantly nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right. Going into a warzone just to see her would be irresponsible and dangerous.¡± He could see Terraform visibly relax. ¡°Would you take me to my father?¡±

    Marlon tilted his head. ¡°You¡¯re a C-ranker, too, boy. Why don¡¯t you take us?¡±

    His eyebrows lifted in surprise; he was still thinking like a D-ranker.

    ¡°Not sure I can do it in one go,¡± he admitted reluctantly.

    Marlon threw his hands up dramatically.

    ¡°Oh, well in that case, might as well not even try, huh!¡±

    Terry stared at the man, his lips pressed tight.

    ¡°Sometimes I forget how annoying you can be,¡± he said after a moment.

    Marlon grunted in acknowledgment before adding, ¡°And sometimes I forget what a whiner you can be. Come on, Tammy, take us to Dallas.¡±

    Terry reached through space, angling toward where he thought the general location of Dallas was.

    ¡°When I¡¯m an S-ranker, I¡¯m sending you to the moon,¡± he grumbled under his breath.

    ¡°You could be the Omega himself,¡± Marlon fired back, ¡°and I¡¯d still dance circles around your rudimentary spatial control.¡±

    Terry snorted, shaking his head as he reached the limits of his aura. His senses were far more attuned to space and he was able to get an impression of the location even before he opened a portal. He knew it wasn¡¯t Dallas, but it felt damn close.

    When the blue-white oval irised open before them, Marlon snorted dismissively, but didn¡¯t say a word.

    Terry ignored the grouch, stepping through and arriving in an entirely different environment.

    Instead of the open field of grass back in Topeka, he now found himself in an industrial park surrounded by rows of warehouses. Glancing around, it wasn¡¯t obvious what city they were in, and he didn¡¯t have a way of locating himself spatially.

    This was the big hurdle for Travelers, he realized; how did one know where they were in relation to where they wanted to go?

    Marlon and Terraform stepped through his portal a moment later. Their passage was signified by slight tugs on his aura and he had to marvel at how easy it had been to transport them hundreds of miles.

    His sense of pride was quickly squashed by Marlon¡¯s dismissive snort.

    ¡°Ain¡¯t nowhere near Dallas, boy.¡±

    Terry whirled on the man. ¡°How am I supposed to get somewhere I¡¯ve never been before?¡± He waved his hand vaguely. ¡°If it¡¯s so easy, why don¡¯t you do it?¡±

    He was baiting the man obviously. Of course Marlon could get them to Dallas¡ªhe¡¯d clearly come from there or had been there before at a bare minimum.

    What Terry was truly hoping for, was to utilize his new Master of Skill Analysis.

    Marlon fell for the bait¡ªhook, line, and sinker¡ªhis aura effortlessly reaching through space.

    Master of Skill Analysis pinged at his attention, and he gave it free rein to activate.

    Active Powers in Range:

    Master of Space (Marlon Ockers)

    Spatial Orientation (Marlon Ockers)

    Unknown (Terraform)

    Unknown (Terraform)

    Unknown (Terraform)

    He almost forgot to activate Aura Snapshot as he read through the list of powers. A part of him had always suspected that Marlon¡¯s Skills weren¡¯t the same as his own. Even though Terry had learned his High-Efficiency Matter Transportation from Marlon and it had been an upgradeable Skill, there had always been a niggling feeling that he was missing some piece of the puzzle.

    Now that he recognized the naming pattern of the first power, it all made sense. Everything Terry had personally formed through experimentation was named Master of, yet his portal Skill had been different.

    It was rewarding to realize that he now had Marlon¡¯s secret sauce recorded in his Aura Snapshot catalog, ready to be analyzed and assimilated.

    The Spatial Orientation Skill was the other piece of the puzzle and Terry felt a smile itch across his face.

    I¡¯ve got all your secrets now, Marlon!

    He resisted the urge to rub his hands together and laugh manically just to rile Marlon up. Nonetheless, the man seemed to sense something¡ªeither in Terry¡¯s aura or from the Aura Snapshot Skill itself¡ªand turned to stare at him.

    Terry desperately wished he had the time to analyze the two new Skills in order to whip them out right in front of Marlon, but he suspected those would take a dedicated session to fully catalog.

    In the meantime, he was content knowing that he had a project to delve into later.

    As for Terraform¡¯s three Unknown Skills, he suspected that was a function of the rank differential. All the same, it was powerful information to know when and how many Skills another Awakened had active. He could see it being vital intelligence in future battles.

    ¡°What¡¯s got you looking so smug?¡± Marlon grunted, a paranoid look on his face.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Terry couldn¡¯t completely mask his pleased smile, but did his best to cover it with a shrug.

    ¡°Nothing, Marlon. Just admiring the work of a¡­Master of Space.¡±

    Marlon¡¯s eyes narrowed, flitting toward the portal he had opened, then back to Terry. Terry simply raised his eyebrows innocently, waving toward the portal.

    ¡°Shall we?¡±

    Marlon grumbled under his breath, while Terraform simply looked between the two of them like a weary parent observing squabbling children. He was the first one through and Terry followed behind him.

    The change in atmosphere was instantaneous. They were inside a small concrete room that had the look of a prison cell. A single heavy door enclosed the space, while a two-way mirror lined one wall.

    But it wasn¡¯t the confines of the cell that Terry felt, but the scanning sensation of a towering presence. He knew from past interactions that it was Hopper he was feeling, her senses appearing to vet them before sliding away.

    An unavoidable rush of adrenaline suffused him at the touch, reminding him of a time not too long ago when Hopper had been actively attempting to strand not only Terry, but a thousand refugees, in the furnace that was Qui Shen¡¯s presence.

    It seemed that the Incursions had forced everyone to brush recent feuds under the rug¡ªat least for now.

    As Marlon stepped through the portal behind him, the heavy metal door shifted, the sound of a bar being thrown back before it squeaked inward.

    A familiar man stood there, his eyes running across the three of them before nodding greeting.

    ¡°Back with the package, Purge,¡± Terraform said in greeting.

    Purge¡ªthe S-ranked Disruptor of Team Dallas¡ªnodded his head toward the outside hallway.

    ¡°News from the Rose just came in. We¡¯ve been waiting for you.¡± Terry felt his stomach flip at those words, but kept any reaction from his face as Purge looked at him. He felt the S-ranker¡¯s senses trail over him, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes before he continued. ¡°I see you survived.¡±

    Before Terry could form a reply, the man turned to go, Terraform on his heels.

    Terry glanced over at Marlon, who pinched his lips tight, then nodded for him to follow the S-rankers.

    It was only dawning on him now that he had a lot of explaining to do, and no good answers. Stealing the Singularity was one thing, something he would be hard pressed to account for.

    But not bringing it back?

    Nausea gripped his stomach as he considered the anger and accusation he might face¡ªnot only from his mother and Silver¡ªbut from the other S-rankers who were being forced to fight.

    If he had just let his mother become the Omega, these Incursions would have been averted. The millions of Atlanta would still be alive¡­

    He knew that letting his mother become the Omega might have had serious ramifications for the enemy that had the Weaver and all the other Systems worried¡­But was it worth the wholesale destruction of Earth¡­?

    His mind threatened to spiral away from him, guilt and regret gripping at his every thought. He forced them back, reminding himself over and over again that he¡¯d made the right choice.

    Somehow, he couldn¡¯t quite make himself believe the words¡­

    As he followed Purge, Terraform, and Marlon, they traversed a series of winding cement hallways, passing by dozens of Awakened running about on various tasks.

    The strengths on display ranged, but were mostly in the Ds or lower. While it appeared Dallas was a hub of command, most of the higher-ranking Awakened seemed to be deployed to the fronts.

    After a minute, they came to a set of doors guarded by two men in an unknown uniform¡ªthe same uniform the guard at the Topekan Memorial had been wearing.

    Unlike that guard¡ªand most of the people running about¡ªthese two gave off powerful auras. At first, he thought they were both B-rankers, but as they neared, he realized the one on the left was an A-ranker!

    Posting an A-ranker on door duty seemed ludicrous in the context of the power scale. Which meant there was something vitally important occurring behind those doors.

    Master of Skill Analysis pinged again and he activated it out of curiosity. With a thought, he found he could filter away the Skills he¡¯d already seen¡ªin this case, Terraform¡¯s three active ones¡ªto only show the new Skills around him.

    Active Powers in Range:

    Surface Thought Examination (Unknown User)

    Hostile Intent Identification (Unknown User)

    Unknown (Unknown User)

    Unknown (Unknown User)

    Unknown (Unknown User)

    There was no indicators with Master of Skill Analysis, but he was still able to determine based on feel that the two recognized Skills belonged to the B-ranker on the right, while the three unrecognized belonged to the A-ranker on the left.

    And judging by the Skill names, the B-ranker was a Hypnotist scanning entrants before they were allowed inside.

    As for Purge, he got the impression that the Disruptor¡¯s aura had somehow stymied his Master of Skill Analysis, as he didn¡¯t get any indication of active Skills from the S-ranker.

    Given the nature of a Disruptor, that didn¡¯t surprise Terry.

    With Master of Skill Analysis active, he took an Aura Snapshot, adding the two identifiable Skills to his list to be cataloged later. He could quickly see this becoming an unhealthy obsession wherein he snapshotted hundreds upon hundreds of active Skills, bloating his catalog to the point of unusability.

    But for now, it felt wasteful not to get a grip on the useful Skills he was glimpsing.

    Apparently, his Aura Snapshot wasn¡¯t as sneaky as he had hoped, and the two guards immediately turned watchful eyes on him.

    ¡°Release your active powers and refrain from further usage inside the chamber,¡± the A-ranker said gruffly. His gaze ranged across the others with familiarity before returning to Terry. ¡°Unauthorized power usage inside the chamber will trigger our sensors and set off alarms.¡±

    Marlon grunted at his side.

    ¡°They¡¯re loud and annoying.¡±

    By the way the A-ranker glared at Marlon, Terry got the impression that they¡¯d been through one or two false alarms already.

    ¡°Thank you, Huxley. I¡¯ll keep an eye on them in the meantime,¡± Purge said.

    The A-ranker¡ªHuxley¡ªsaluted Purge, then Terraform, surprising Terry. There had never been a militaristic bent to any of the local super groups¡ªincluding Team Dallas.

    When Terry looked toward Marlon with a questioning raise of his eyebrows, the man simply rolled his eyes.

    With Purge vouching for them, the two guards opened the chamber doors and stepped aside. There was a small inner chamber with two more doors, along with two more uniformed guards standing attentively. These two didn¡¯t stop the group, though they did salute crisply after opening the doors.

    Past them lay a wide room that had over a hundred people at desks or running about. The center of the room was dominated by a large, circular table, while the far wall was a series of screens that seemed to each display a region in conflict.

    The table itself had space for dozens of people, but only a small sliver was occupied on the far side.

    Terry immediately recognized a handful of faces and couldn¡¯t help himself as he called out.

    ¡°Dad!¡±

    James Fairway¡¯s head shot up from a report he¡¯d been perusing, a smile broadening across his face as he pushed from his chair and ran to meet Terry.

    The two embraced in the center of the room, eliciting a few surprised stares before most people went back to their business.

    ¡°Terry!¡± his dad whispered into his hair. ¡°I was so damned worried, son! I would¡¯ve come to fetch you myself, but I¡¯m monitoring¡ª¡±

    He cut off, pulling back the words he¡¯d been about to say.

    ¡°It¡¯s Mom, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    James stepped back, his hands on Terry¡¯s arms, his eyes flitting to Terraform behind him.

    When he looked back, his expression of joy was replaced with a thinly-veiled anxiety.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he replied with a sigh, ¡°it¡¯s your mother. She¡¯s holding San Francisco right now against the A-ranking forces.¡±

    Terry felt his anxiety spike.

    ¡°Will she be okay?¡±

    His father nodded sternly. ¡°Definitely. She¡¯ll be fine. It¡¯s the civilians I¡¯m worried about¡­¡± He trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.

    Terry leaned back, shaking his head softly.

    ¡°This is my fault, isn¡¯t it? Because I took the¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡± James interrupted sharply. ¡°This isn¡¯t on you, Terry. Even if your mother had become the Omega¡ª¡± He cut off, obviously wanting to say more. Instead, he glanced back at the others and bit his lip. ¡°Come on, Whip¡¯s been worried sick about you.¡± James snorted humorously. ¡°I think even your grandfather was missing you, though he wouldn¡¯t admit it.¡±

    Terry chuckled at that, following as his dad threw an arm over his shoulder and brought him to the group at the far end of the table.

    Whipvine was the first to approach, his scars dancing across his face as his expression shifted into a roguish smile.

    ¡°Look at you!¡± Whipvine shouted happily. ¡°A C-ranker, fresh from a Summons! Come here, my boy!¡±

    Despite how they¡¯d left things months ago, Terry had never stopped thinking fondly of Whipvine. Other than Crunch, this man had been his anchor, more of a father to him that his own father, if he were being honest. And though he had reconciled with James, there would always be a special bond between him and Whip.

    He rushed into the Duelist¡¯s arms, gripping him tight in a hug before pulling away.

    Whipvine smiled¡ªan ugly look that once upon a time would¡¯ve seen him running into his mother¡¯s arms¡ªand lightly punched his shoulder.

    ¡°So? Where¡¯d you go? Tell us all about it!¡±

    Over Whipvine¡¯s shoulder, Terry met his grandfather¡¯s eye.

    Taking a deep breath, he forced his voice steady.

    ¡°I was summoned¡­to the Underworld.¡±

    Whipvine¡¯s eyes went wide and he heard his father gasp at his shoulder. But he kept his gaze on his grandfather, curious about his reaction.

    The man remained stoic, only the slightest arch of a single eyebrow indicating he¡¯d even heard Terry.

    Whipvine opened his mouth¡ªa barrage of questions incoming, no doubt¡ªbut cut off as the Emperor approached his shoulder. Turning to the man, Whipvine barked a laugh.

    ¡°More of a chip off the ol¡¯ block than I woulda thought, eh, Terrence?¡±

    Despite Whip¡¯s jovial mood, the Emperor didn¡¯t smile, his eyes seeming to trace up and down Terry with an appraising look. Whipvine seemed to get the hint and took a step back to give them some space.

    After a moment that stretched into five, the Emperor held out his hand.

    ¡°Welcome back, Terry.¡±

    Terry looked at that hand in surprise, casting a quick glance toward his father before meeting his grandfather¡¯s eyes. The Emperor raised a brow at his hesitance and Terry smiled, gripping the man¡¯s hand tight.

    ¡°Thanks. The Underworld was¡­quite a trip.¡±

    The Emperor nodded knowingly. ¡°You¡¯ll have to tell me the whole story. But first¡ª¡± He nodded over his shoulder. ¡°¡ªI do believe there are a few more friends eager to say their hellos.¡±

    Terry leaned around his grandfather, looking toward where he had indicated. His eyes found a group of ghouls standing at rest and he gasped in shock.

    He couldn¡¯t help himself as he ran past the Emperor and threw his arms around Crunch. The ghoul didn¡¯t react outwardly, but Terry couldn¡¯t miss the love and excitement in the ghoul¡¯s aura.

    Blood and Burg were there too, and Terry gave them quick hugs¡ªwhich they received stoically on the outside, but excitedly through their aura¡ªbefore he turned back to Crunch.

    Before either of them could say anything, Terry summoned his aura, shaping it in a very particular way.

    When Crunch, Burg, and Blood felt the images through that aura, he felt their pride and surprise radiating out sharply.

    As he retracted his aura, Crunch bowed low, speaking in ghoulish. His words tightened Terry¡¯s throat.

    ¡°Welcome back, Lightbringer. A well-deserved name.¡±

    Before Terry could respond, Burg and Blood simultaneously directed their own aura. It took Terry a moment to realize what they were doing, but when he did, he felt the tears slip free against his will.

    They were introducing Crunch¡¯s name¡ªhis ghoulish name.