《DIE. RESPAWN. REPEAT. [Book 2 stubs March 5th]》


 1 - Die, Die, and Die Again

    I wake up, and three seconds later, I die.


    It''s not particularly pleasant. The first time it happens, I don''t even get the chance to scream. All I see is a blade speeding towards my head, and then all I know is searing pain. It takes a full moment for me to die properly.


    That moment is agonizing.


    The second time it happens, it takes five seconds. I''m still disoriented, and although I try to jerk away from whatever it is that stabbed me in the head, all I manage to do is end up with a blade in my throat; a powerful jerk later, and my vision detaches from the rest of my body.


    The third time, at least, I see my assailant.


    The moment consciousness hits me ¡ª the moment I feel the cool breeze on my skin again, the dirt beneath my back, and the coppery smell in the air that tells me this is very much not a dream ¡ª I throw myself to the side. I hear a skittering cry of confusion and anger, and I snap my head up to see the thing that I assume has been killing me again and again.


    It''s a monster. An actual, bear-sized mantis-thing that has a few too many limbs to make sense; an insect blown up into horrifyingly large proportions that let me see every grotesque detail. There are tiny hairs embedded in its carapace, veins that somehow connect two of its arms to long, metallic scythes...


    And one of its eyes is gouged out. There''s a cracked mess of carapace and flesh where it should be, and the feeling of revulsion at the sight vanishes when the monster lets out another screech. It''s tugging frustratedly on one of its limbs, which is stuck firmly in the ground.


    You know, from when it tried to stab me.


    Right. Life-or-death situation. I''ve already died twice, and I have no desire to die a third. There''s some text hovering in my peripheral vision that''s starting to really annoy me, but I don''t exactly have time to read.


    ...I run away.


    What else am I supposed to do? It''s a giant mantis monster. I''m not equipped to fight it.


    It occurs to me ¡ª as the vegetation speeds past, and I stumble my way around cactus-like plants with thorns nearly as long as my fingers ¡ª that I don''t even know where I am. I don''t recognize anything around me, and even the sky is a distinct shade of purple that paints the horizon with shades of unfamiliarity.


    My thoughts are interrupted by a deafening screech, and I risk a glance back, counting the time in my head. It''s been four seconds. It takes four seconds for it to pull the scythe free. Before I can react, it launches itself at me unbelievably fast.


    I don''t even get the time to scream.


    The fourth time, I change things around. Dying is incredibly unpleasant, and I''m not inclined to keep doing it; I need a way to beat this thing and then assess what''s going on. The dodge-and-roll is almost instinct now, burned into my brain from my multiple deaths.


    I have four seconds. The clock is ticking.


    You know what? Might as well try something risky.


    I run towards the mantis monster.


    I need a weapon. There''s a ball joint holding that scythe attached to the rest of the limb, supported just by a thin layer of sinew.


    It roars at me when I get close ¡ª bug-spittle lands on my face, but I don''t have time for disgust ¡ª and swings its spare blade at me. I''m approaching it at a weird angle, though, so it doesn''t have the full range of motion it needs; I duck underneath, and it scrabbles at me with its other claws¡ª


    ¡ªand I gasp as I feel them dig into my skin, scoring a particularly deep cut¡ª


    ¡ªbut it''s not enough to stop me.


    I kick into the joint right as it tries for a final, powerful yank. It''s not fast enough. There''s a morbid snap as the joint breaks off from the rest of the limb, and I grab at the base of it, ignoring the way the cracked carapace digs into my skin. My momentum is enough to pull the blade the rest of the way out, and I roll, trying desperately not to stab myself with the weapon I''ve risked my life for.


    Okay. Still alive. The monster''s angrier than ever, and no longer stuck to the ground; it''s rushing towards me, and ¡ª yep, definitely too fast to run from.


    I make a split-second decision to leap to the right.


    It''s the wrong choice.


    Thankfully, that time, it does me the courtesy of killing me instantly.


    The fifth time, I dive to the left just as it swings to the right, and I take that opportunity to jump onto the damn thing. I yell as I do it. There''s no actual point in yelling, it''s just a release of frustration and stress and fear. It does help me ignore the pain as a half-dozen pseudo-limbs claw into me, though.


    I climb up its back and stab the scythe into its other eye with a triumphant shout.


    It''s almost satisfying. The mantis-thing doesn''t even make a sound. I''ve hit a vital spot of some sort, it seems; it just collapses to the ground, and sends me sprawling. I don''t bother moving from where I''ve landed. I just lie there, panting.


    Everything hurts.


    But I''m alive. I actually did it.


    ...It''s almost a miracle that it only took me five tries, and it''s a miracle I really, really hope I won''t have to repeat. Which brings me to my next task.


    I need to figure out what''s going on.


    That subtle text that''s been hovering in my peripheral vision calls to me again. It''s pulsing insistently now that I''m out of the fight, and when I focus on it, it expands.


    [ Congratulations! The Integrators have selected Earth to be the next Integrated planet. Please stand by... ]


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    [ Integration complete! 3,000 individuals will be randomly selected for a Trial. Note that at least 10 individuals must pass their Trial, or Earth will be destroyed. ]


    [ Congratulations! You have been selected for a Trial. ]


    [ Welcome to Hestia 307B! Your Trial details are as follows:


    Danger Rank: SSS


    Type: Willpower


    Base Anomaly: Temporal


    Every time you die, reset to 0:00 and spawn at the designated location. Your trial will end when you give up or escape the Trial grounds. The exit has been placed in a random location within 12 kilometers of the initial spawn point. ]


    [ You have been Integrated and granted a Status. Your Status is as follows:


    Name: Ethan


    Credit Distribution:


    Strength: 0


    Durability: 0


    Reflex: 0


    Speed: 0


    Firmament: 0 ]


    I pause, stare, and take a moment to process.


    Three thousand people selected for Trials just like this one, by a species that, I assume, calls themselves the Integrators. They want ten people to pass. That means they expect most of us to fail, and considering what I''ve just been through ¡ª considering I''ve just been mauled to death four times in a row ¡ª I''m under no illusions as to what failing will mean for the other candidates.


    I hate everything about this.


    And then there''s what those messages said about what they would do to Earth if we fail. I clench my fists, and then take a slow, shuddering breath; my heart is still pumping wildly from my near-death experience.


    From my actual-death experiences.


    There are more messages waiting for me, and I distract myself by looking through them.


    [ You have died. +1 Durability credit. ]


    [ You have died. +2 Durability credits. +1 Reflex credit. ]


    [ You have died. +1 Durability credit. +2 Reflex credit. +1 Speed credit. ]


    [ You have died. +2 Strength credits. +2 Durability credits. +1 Reflex credits. +2 Speed credit. ]


    [ You have defeated a Broken Horror (Rank E)! +2 Strength credits. +3 Durability credits. +2 Reflex credits. +2 Speed credits. +2 Firmament credits. ]


    There''s... a lot to take in from that. My actual status is probably updated from the notification I got earlier. Thankfully, bringing up a new notification is as simple as thinking about it.


    [ Status:


    Name: Ethan


    Credit Distribution:


    Strength: 4


    Durability: 9


    Reflex: 6


    Speed: 5


    Firmament: 2 ]


    That''s... good?


    I don''t feel any stronger ¡ª and I definitely don''t feel any more durable. The fact that it''s called a credit distribution says a lot; the implication with a credit is that I need to spend it, though I''m not sure how. There''s a part of me that''s clinging very firmly to the idea that this isn''t real, but...


    I''ve died four times, and I don''t want to go through that again. Better to assume this is real until I have a reason to believe otherwise.


    I need to figure out my priorities.


    It''s not survival ¡ª survival isn''t a problem. I can''t die until I give up, and I''m not going to give up. If it''s a willpower test, I''m going to pass it.


    What I''m more concerned about is the implications of ending the Trial. The message said the Trial would end if I give up or if I escape the Trial grounds. It did not say that I would pass if I escaped. It feels like a pretty safe assumption to make, but "waking up in bed" had seemed like a pretty safe assumption to make last night, so I''m not in the mood to make any more "safe" assumptions.


    "How do I pass the Trial?" I say out loud. There''s no guarantee that this Interface responds to verbal commands, but I''m hoping it does.


    [ Details of the passing requirements are locked until further notice. ]


    Interesting.


    "Is there anything else I''m missing?"


    [ Interface features will be unlocked as your Integration progresses. Such features may include, but are not limited to: Inventory, Market, Chat, Guilds. ]


    I frown.


    So I don''t have everything unlocked yet. Sure.


    "How do I spend credits, and what do they do?"


    [ Credits may be banked, allowing you to acquire skills associated with that particular type of credit. Note that all credits of a particular type must be banked at once. Banking more credits increases the likelihood of the resulting skill being of a high grade.


    In addition, bonuses will be granted when the total number of credits banked in a given category has reached certain thresholds. The first threshold occurs at 100 credits banked, each subsequent threshold occurs at every power of 10 thereafter. ]


    Most of the categories are pretty self-explanatory. There''s only one that really needs explanation for me.


    "What is Firmament?"


    [ Firmament is the energy that the Interface ¡ª and much of the wider universe ¡ª runs on. It allows an imposition of change onto reality, often bending and sometimes outright breaking the laws of physics.]


    Okay, so it''s magic. They couldn''t have just called it mana?


    I can keep saving my credits. That''s probably what I should do, even, except I don''t have any examples of the type of skills I''ll get from each category. If I bank them now, I''ll get an example...


    No. I''ll bank Durability first. It''s the highest one I''ve got, and it''ll help me survive the next few encounters with that Broken Horror. I have no illusions about my level of skill right now ¡ª I''m going to die, and I''m probably going to keep dying for a while. Durability will give me an example of what I can get with nine credits, and then I''ll try to get a skill at twenty-five, fifty, and a hundred. That''ll give me an idea of the relationship between credits and skill quality ¡ª there''s got to be diminishing returns somewhere.


    I''ll also bank Firmament, because it''s the one I''m most uncertain of in terms of what type of skill it''ll give me. That leaves... I''ll bank Strength once I''ve earned twenty-five credits, Reflex at fifty, and Speed at one hundred.


    Okay. I feel pretty good about this.


    Spend Durability credits.


    [ Are you sure you wish to bank 9 Durability credits? ]


    Yes.


    [ 9 Durability credits banked! Rolling for results... ]


    [ Select between:


    Tough Skin (Rank F)


    Blood Production (Rank E)


    Iron Bones (Rank F) ]


    I''m going to have to fight this mantis thing again, and the main danger it represents is making me bleed out, not breaking my bones. Blood Production being at a higher rank is interesting, but I can''t imagine it having good synergy with anything else. Anything it would have good synergy with is not a skill I''m particularly interested in.


    The other problems with tracking blood all over a strange forest full of alien bacteria make my decision for me.


    [ Tough Skin (Rank F) obtained! ]


    Spend Firmament credits.


    [ Are you sure you wish to bank 2 Firmament credits? ]


    Yes.


    [ 2 Firmament credits banked! Rolling for results...]


    [ Select between:


    Temporal Echo (Rank D)


    Bladeshift (Rank F)


    Multifaceted Vision (Rank F) ]


    I think about the situation I''m in. The adrenaline, at least, is fading away ¡ª and though I know I should be exhausted, I find myself with a certain clarity of mind instead.


    There''s a fundamental truth here: the Integrators are not doing this as some good faith attempt at uplifting Earth. They''re phrasing Integration as a reward, but the fact that they''re pairing it with the threat of destroying the planet... I''m inclined to think that there''s another purpose to the Trials. I''m inclined to think that there''s no reason to test us in a trial by fire like this, involving less than a fraction of a percent of the world''s population using a random distribution that barely begins to represent the whole of humanity.


    But they''re going to regret choosing me. They''re going to regret putting me in this specific Trial. In this Trial, I''m free to take as long as I want. I''m free to scrape up every last scrap of power I can.


    Integration is an interesting translation. It implies the Integrators use this technology, too. That they''re integrating us into their system.


    That, to me, sounds like a weakness.


    I''m going to find out what you''re really up to, and then I''m going to tear all this down.


    [ Temporal Echo (Rank D) obtained! ]


    I''m coming for you.

 64 - Book 2, Chapter 1 - One More Death

    You don''t really get used to death, no matter how many times you do it. I''ve died thirteen times, and all thirteen of them have hurt. The last death hurt... less than usual, because I was fortunate enough to just get blasted apart, rather than stabbed, torn apart, or crushed.


    This is a weird thing to think about, I know. It turns out Quicken Mind really is a lot better than Mental Acceleration. So much better it gives me time to stare at the blade headed towards my head and ruminate, instead of engaging in my usual dodge-and-roll.


    Why not do something different this time?


    Barrier.


    I have Hexfold Barrier and Crystallized Barrier as offshoots of that skill, but considering the monster that''s trying to stab me through the brain is a Rank F monster, I''m not too worried about it. The mantis-creature''s arm clangs roughly into the barrier and deflects off of it, slamming into the dirt instead.


    This time, the angle is different. This time, it doesn''t get stuck. It rears backwards with a roar, drool and spittle flying out between its mandibles and sizzling on the dirt.


    "Ahkelios," I call, and use Temporal Fragment.


    The bond between us resonates and springs to life, and Firmament is drawn out of me into the shape of a tiny, lively little mantis-person. He''s been a good companion to me, for all that part of that is apparently enforced by the Interface. I still have to make good on my promise to find a way to free him.


    This seems like a good start.


    Ahkelios doesn''t seem to think so, though. Instead of facing the mantis that''s intent on killing me, he turns to me and folds his arms.


    "Are you okay?" he asks. "That was really sudden. Aren''t you worried about¡ª"


    I leap out of the way as the other mantis ¡ª the giant one trying to kill us, not that there are any other mantises around besides these two ¡ª stabs towards me.


    "I''m trying not to think about it," I say casually.


    I am worried. Mari isn''t going to remember who I am. Tarin... there''s a chance Tarin will, but even then it''s only a chance. I cured him in the last loop, and he remembered, but his Firmament had been stuck in one state because of what was keeping him in a coma to begin with. Now that I''ve cured him...


    There''s no good outcome here. If he remembers, he''s destined to remember all of my loops ¡ª he''s bound to me, in that sense. And if that''s true, then he''s going to be moving on without his wife.


    For his own sake, I almost hope he doesn''t remember me. I wrench my mind away from the thought.


    "Maybe we should deal with the giant mantis trying to kill us first?" I suggest, and Ahkelios gives me a scowl. It''s one of his ''this isn''t over'' scowls.


    "I''m trying not to think about that and why it looks like me," he grumbles. "What do you want me to do, fight it?"


    "I''ve seen what you can do," I confirm. "And it''s... probably related to you somehow, right? Maybe if you kill it..."


    "Morbid," Ahkelios says, but I notice he doesn''t fight me on the matter. He agrees, I think. It''s barely noticeable, but there''s... a resonance? Something that''s reacting in the Firmament Ahkelios has and the Firmament that''s core to the mantis-monster attacking us.


    I still don''t know what these monsters are, exactly.


    Ahkelios leaps off of my shoulder and takes full control over his Firmament. He turns into a streak of light, blasting off my shoulder and directly towards the blade that''s coming towards me.


    I don''t bother to dodge.


    The force of his kick simultaneously shatters it and rips it off of the mantis-creature''s arm, the joint detaching with a sickening pop. Then he launches himself like a bullet, spinning right underneath the monster''s chin and up through the top of his head, shattering the top of his carapace and emerging covered in...


    I grimace a bit and call up a Barrier just as Ahkelios shakes himself off. I don''t particularly want to get brain splattered onto me this early in the loop. Ahkelios is made of Firmament ¡ª nothing can stick to him ¡ª but me? I still need to take a shower every now and then, and there are only so many rivers here.


    "You''re the one that wanted me to fight it," Ahkelios says smugly, and I sigh.


    "I suppose I am."


    [ You have defeated a Broken Horror (Rank E)! ]


    No real reward. It''s too weak now to give me much of anything. I glance at Ahkelios, then to the corpse of the monster. "Anything different?" I ask.


    "No?" Ahkelios frowns a bit. "Is something supposed to be¡ª"


    Before he can complete his sentence, I sense a fragment of that Firmament still within the mantis. I sense a small reaction from Temporal Fragment, rapidly fading.


    So I use Temporal Fragment again.


    Temporal Fragment is probably one of my strangest skills. In its base form ¡ª the first version of it I received, Temporal Echo ¡ª it lets me create a clone of myself from a past loop. That echo isn''t capable of any independent thought, but it will repeat whatever actions I took before. It''s a good way to... replay fights, so to speak. Avoid repeating anything I don''t have to.


    The Fragment variant retains that capability, but it seems to let me connect fragments of past loops that aren''t my own.


    Case in point: Ahkelios, once a Trialgoer on Hestia, whose older self failed the same trial I''m going through. That older version of him faced many traumas this younger version doesn''t remember, I think, but they''re in there somewhere. I notice it in flashes, whenever his chipper attitude flickers away and leaves behind something painfully sad.


    The only way to fail this particular Trial is to give up. Judging by its difficulty rating...


    Well, I suspect not many people have ever passed. If anyone. I''m not sure on that part ¡ª I don''t know if the Integrators repeat a Trial once someone has beaten it.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Most of this is important to know, because when I use Temporal Fragment this time, the resonance between Ahkelios and that tiny piece of Firmament in the corpse suddenly snaps into place. My little mantis-friend freezes mid-sentence and mid-air, his eyes growing wide.


    I feel two fragments of Firmament merging. There''s a brief moment of resistance, as something that isn''t Ahkelios apparently tries to fight against the intrusion, but it breaks through just as quickly; I feel a distinct change in the Firmament Ahkelios is using. It''s a little brighter, a little stronger.


    It still uses my own Firmament as a base, but I think that''s just a limitation of Temporal Fragment in general.


    More importantly, Ahkelios has changed in size. He''s a little over double his previous height, still small enough to sit on my shoulder but large enough that his head reaches up above my ear when he does so. He''s also a little... bulkier?


    I try not to imagine a comically muscular mantis sitting on top of my head.


    "Whoa," Ahkelios says. Even his voice is a little deeper. I''m not sure how I feel about that. "That felt... different."


    "A good kind of different, I hope," I say. I probably should have tried this earlier, and I feel a little guilty for not doing so. I''d been worried Ahkelios wouldn''t react well to what appears to be a physical manifestation of his trauma, but if anything, he seems very happy about having the opportunity to punch it in the face. Or drill through its head like a bullet, as it were.


    "It''s good," Ahkelios confirms. He flexes his fingers, then his arms, then does a full-body wriggle that I find difficult to characterize as anything except ''cute'', as much as I suspect Ahkelios would hate that designation. "I feel stronger. More complete? And the Interface isn''t whispering so loudly into my head anymore."


    "Was it doing that before?" I ask, concerned. He hasn''t mentioned anything about it. Ahkelios grimaces and falls silent for a moment.


    "The answer is yes, but I wasn''t allowed to talk about it," Ahkelios finally says. "And even now, talking about it... kinda hurts. But I can do it. Don''t worry; I haven''t been forced to do anything I don''t want to do. I just hate that it''s forced at all."


    There''s a glimmer of that darker side of him again. The side of him that''s a little angrier, that''s been through more than any sapient being ought to be. The fact that even this side of him is trying to reassure me tells me a lot about his character.


    I wonder how many lifetimes he lived through the course of his loops. He doesn''t seem like the type of person to give up easily.


    I wonder how many others like him I might meet, if I take the time to look. There''s the harpy that was used to raid the crow village early on ¡ª if that particular fragment had a source, I haven''t met it, nor do I have any idea where I would find her, and even if I did...


    This loop doesn''t have the same distinct, fuzzy feeling that I''ve noticed was present every time I met Ahkelios in the early loops. The presence of past loopers seems to be brought about by Temporal Fragment and... some distortion of Firmament that I don''t entirely understand. It''s not consistent between loops, unfortunately.


    "Did you get anything from the Interface when you died?" Ahkelios asks, as if uncomfortable with the silence. It''s probably fair. I accept the attempt to change the subject, and glance back at the notifications I received just after dying. The words are still there, glowing firmly in the light of the Interface.


    [ You have died. ]


    [ You have unlocked a new feature: Doomsday Tracker. This Interface feature will track all events that may affect the time at which Anomaly 006 occurs. ]


    [ You have unlocked the knowledge database of Anomaly 006, kept by other Trialgoers. ]


    [ For encountering an Anomaly, you have been awarded 50 Firmament credits. ]


    [ Warning: New anomalies detected in loop. ]


    The Doomsday Tracker reads just over a hundred and eighty days. Just about six months before... the entire planet blows up? What was that? And that doesn''t seem to match the time that was on my Timeline Tracker when I died. I frown, opening my mouth to protest¡ª


    And then I realize, glancing over the notifications again, that for once the Interface isn''t keeping it a secret.


    "Access the database for Anomaly 006," I say out loud. Mostly for Ahkelios'' benefit, really. The Interface seems perfectly capable of deciphering my intent from my thoughts, but then I just look like I''m sitting there and staring intently into the air.


    In front of me, words spill out. A lot of them.


    [ Anomaly 006


    Scale: Planetary


    Origin: The Fracture


    Cause: Unknown


    Danger Rank: SSS


    Anomaly 006 is an event that occurs approximately 180 days into the start of the loop, but can occur earlier if the Fracture is disturbed. Note the Fracture is already a major source of anomalies within a loop and should be very carefully interacted with; it is possible for actions taken within the Fracture to end a loop prematurely.


    Changelog:


    I don''t really know why this is here, it''s not like I''m going to fail this Trial. But I might as well keep a record? At least it''ll help me keep track of everything going on. ¡ª V''khator


    ¡ª


    Um. I guess we shouldn''t... we shouldn''t expect to get through this Trial, huh? I thought it was going to be... not hard, anyway. But if other people...


    Anyway. I added some notes about how going to the Fracture can trigger this early. I don''t know exactly what causes it, but it''s something deep within the Fracture ¡ª deeper than I''ve ever gone.


    One time I threw a rock in there and it triggered the Anomaly two days early, so be careful throwing stuff into the Fracture, I guess.


    Um... I think I''m supposed to sign off? I don''t know if I want to put my name here. Especially if I fail.


    Trialgoer 002, I guess. Probably. I''ll add more if I find anything more.


    ¡ª


    Hi. It''s 002 again.


    I don''t know much more, but I''ve figured out that it''s... it''s the whole planet. I tried running away. It didn''t work.


    I don''t know what to do?


    ¡ª


    Anomaly log has been formatted and language has been formalized, with the exception of the changelog.


    Cause of anomaly appears to be related to the temporal Firmament that runs the loop. Theory unconfirmed. Usage of opposing Firmament can delay death, but without a planet to subsist on, even I cannot survive for long. ¡ª GHO-R7.


    ¡ª


    It is possible to temporally displace the exit past the point at which Anomaly 006 occurs. This is a problem. Do not do what I did. ¡ª GHO-R7.


    ¡ª


    To be clear, what I did was attempt to access the exit by surviving past the destruction of the planet. The exit is not destroyed. However, it appears that the exit is capable of altering its position in both time and space, and it has rendered itself inaccessible to me. ¡ª GHO-R7.


    ¡ª


    Wow, that dude was... unlucky, huh?


    I haven''t figured out anything more about 006, but I''ll stick anything I find out here, I guess. I dunno, feels like if I do that I''m expecting to fail.


    I tried diving deeper into the Fracture but all I got was <DATA EXPUNGED>. So that''s annoying.


    <Read More> ]


    There''s a lot more to the logs, too. At some point it looks like the other Trialgoers gave up and started logging everything in the changelog instead of the main document, which means I have so much more data to pore through than I should have to...


    I sigh.


    The data expungement doesn''t surprise me. Not everything in the changelog is related to the anomaly, and the Integrators probably don''t want me to learn about their other secrets without earning it through the Interface, otherwise we''d all be able to use this one anomaly to share all our secrets. I see a few other attempts by other Trialgoers to do exactly that, too, but it''s all been expunged.


    Even a few coded attempts were expunged. The Integrators are thorough. I''m surprised the comment about the exit was able to survive, but maybe they don''t want other people trying that.


    I think the most worrying part of all this is the sheer number of Trialgoers there evidently have been. Not all of them contributed to the log, I think ¡ª some of them never survived long enough, for one thing ¡ª but even then, there are... I''m pretty sure there are hundreds.


    How long have the Integrators been trying to get someone to beat this Trial?


    "You gonna tell me what you''re looking at?" Ahkelios asks. He''s somehow found his way up onto my head again, and he''s large enough now that he feels like a hat. I sigh.


    "A lot of people''s last words, apparently," I mutter.


    So many dead to beat this one Trial.


    I won''t be the next.

 65 - Book 2, Chapter 2 - Incoming

    I pore through the logs for a while more, but it soon becomes clear that this is a task for another day ¡ª mostly because this looks like it''s hours of reading, and sitting in the dirt next to the cooling corpse that appears to be a time-twisted distortion of my closest friend in the loops doesn''t seem like a particularly good use of my time.


    "Where to first?" Ahkelios asks. I take a moment to think through everything I''ve decided I need to do.


    I should meet with Mari and Tarin again, just to find out what''s happened to them after the last loop. I should find out what the Interface meant by other anomalies. I should investigate the Fracture. I should accompany Rotar to the Great Cities, because if there are people investigating the Interface there, they might be able to tell me more about how I can jailbreak it.


    I plan to get Gheraa away from the other Integrators, given all the signs that he''s on my side and all the signs of abuse, but I have no idea how I''m even going to start with that yet. Maybe the next time I bank my stat credits and meet with him.


    Naru is a problem. The other Hestian Trialgoers are problems, and I''m almost certainly going to meet with one of them when I head to the Great Cities. That automaton I encountered in the Fracture that is almost certainly the reason I hit the Anomaly ninety days in instead of a hundred and eighty? Also a problem.


    None of them I know how to deal with yet, exactly. I feel like maybe I should address that robot-automaton first. Something about its behavior struck me as strange.


    Then there''s the Empty City ¡ª a long-term goal if there ever was one. There''s the skill shards in the Fracture, but I''m folding that into investigating the Fracture as a whole...


    And whatever''s going on with K''hkeri. I don''t think they betrayed me on purpose ¡ª there was a distinct look of panic on their face when I got whipped away.


    The Interface mentioned new temporal anomalies, which I''m worried about but can''t do anything about for now. The best way for me to be prepared for those is to make sure I''m as strong as I can be, which means I should make sure I bank my credits...


    Speaking of which, I should probably check my Interface status again, just to see if I''ve reached any of the milestones I''ve been aiming for.


    [ Status:


    Name: Ethan


    Strength Skills: Crystallized Strength (Rank C), Concentrated Power (Rank B), Amplification Gauntlet (Rank A)


    Durability Skills: Tough Body (Rank E), Barrier (Rank D), Crystallized Barrier (Rank C), Hexfold Shield (Rank C), Second Wind (Rank B), Verdant Armor (Rank A)


    Reflex Skills: Quicken Mind (Rank B), Inspect (Rank B), Compounded Mind (Rank B), Iron Mind (Rank A)


    Speed Skills: Triplestep (Rank E), Accelerate (Rank C), Firestep (Rank C), Flashstep (Rank B), Intrinsic Lightning (Rank A), Lightning Rod (Rank A), Warpstep (Rank A)


    Firmament Skills: Firmament Manipulation (Rank D), Temporal Fragment (Rank D), Color Drain (Rank C), Tetrachromacy (Rank C)


    Inspirations:


    The Mirror Twice Shattered (Firmament, Unique)


    The All-Seeing Eye (Reflex, Rank A)


    The Void (Strength, Rank Unknown)


    The Accelerator (Speed, Rank A)


    Open Dungeons:


    The Empty City (Rank S)


    Credit Distribution:


    Strength: 114 (179 banked)


    Durability: 338 (84 banked)


    Reflex: 135 (225 banked)


    Speed: 87 (273 banked)


    Firmament: 70 (256 banked) ]


    I grimace. That''s a long list of skills. It''s occurring to me now that I might have been able to use the Mirror Inspiration, back when I was caught in that temporal storm ¡ª though I''m not sure that would have helped. I need to get used to using all these different skills, and fast; Quicken Mind helps, but not when everything around me is moving as fast as I can think.


    If I bank Strength now, I''ll get a new Rank B skill, and it''ll round out some of my offensive capabilities ¡ª but I want to aim for a Rank A skill. The Amplification Gauntlet is strong enough for now, and I haven''t yet encountered something I need more physical strength to beat.


    Durability will... also get me a Rank B skill. I need a total of five hundred credits to guarantee a Rank A skill, if Ahkelios''s information is right; the gap between Ranks B and A is much larger than I''d initially thought. Still, it shouldn''t take me too long to get to the next milestone, and I have plenty of Durability skills already.


    The only problem is that Durability is the only stat category for which I don''t have an Inspiration. I''m... sort of waiting for Gheraa, on that one. The last time we spoke, he said he would prepare for the next time we met. I don''t know if he''s had enough time, yet, since I''m relatively sure the temporal storm I got caught in was localized to Hestian time.


    If it hadn''t been, there would be far more humans dead, and there hadn''t been when I checked. Ninety days is a lot of time.


    Reflex is the most tempting stat to bank immediately. Getting my mind to work faster is an acceptable temporary workaround to the problem of having too many options; the problem is that it doesn''t scale well. If I meet someone that''s faster than I am, and I have to spend everything I have just to keep up...


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Oh well. It''s better than nothing. Another four hundred points in Reflex are going to take me too long to get, I think.


    [ Are you sure you wish to bank 135 Reflex credits? ]


    [ 135 Reflex credits banked! Rolling for results... ]


    [ Select between:


    Premonition (Rank B)


    Analyze Moment (Rank B)


    Reflex Barrier (Rank B)


    Quicken Mind (Rank B) ]


    I narrow my eyes and stare at the list contemplatively.


    "Uh," Ahkelios says. He peers over my shoulder at the invisible box I''m staring at. "You want to tell me what you''re looking at?"


    Oh, right. "I rolled for a Reflex skill," I say. "It gave me Premonition, Analyze Moment, Reflex Barrier, and Quicken Mind as options."


    "Don''t you already have Quicken Mind?" Ahkelios asks. "You should get that. It''ll upgrade the skill again."


    I hesitate. "Maybe," I say.


    I''m not sure that''s the best option. It''ll help me in battle, and it''ll help offset the fact that I''m not yet used to using the full range of my abilities, but I want to round out my capabilities a bit more. I have blind spots, shown very clearly by the fact that I was so thoroughly caught off-guard by the slipstream. Not thinking fast enough isn''t one of my blindspots.


    Premonition has shown up before. It''s a weaker version of Foreshadowing, and will warn me if there''s danger headed my way, what direction it''s coming from, and exactly how dangerous it is. It''s a powerful skill in its own right, and ¡ª importantly ¡ª will prepare me against ambushes like K''hkeri''s attack on Rotar.


    More than that, it might actually have been able to warn me that stepping into that Firmament slipstream would be dangerous for me. I need something that will warn me of upcoming danger, especially if...


    ...especially if I''m not prepared to lose a loop.


    I try not to think about how Tarin and Mari are probably doing.


    Analyze Moment is essentially a form of perfect recall. It lets me go back to a memory after the fact, exploring every facet of it for information. It''s another way I could have fully interpreted that obelisk back in the Hotspot, I suppose, and it''s a useful skill to have, but I''m not convinced that I need it right now.


    Reflex Barrier just automatically calls up a powerful barrier of Firmament if something is about to kill me. It''s stronger than any of the barriers I can call forth on my own with my Durability skills, but it needs time to recharge. Something like a ''get out of death free'' card. Nice to have, but Inspect tells me the recharge time is a long one, and if something is good enough to kill me once, I''m not sure it''s going to make the difference.


    Quicken Mind will evolve into a new skill that will let me think faster. That one''s pretty straightforward.


    "I want to take Premonition," I tell Ahkelios. Maybe it''s a foolish choice. It''s the idea that I might lose a loop before I''m ready for it that makes my decision, here ¡ª as consequence-free as the loops technically are, I... clearly have a lot to lose when I loop.


    I probably can''t hold off my next death forever, but I can try, and Premonition will help me more than anything else.


    "Are you sure?" Ahkelios looks a bit dubious, but I think he sees something in my expression, because something in his eyes soften. "It gets easier, you know."


    "I don''t want it to," I tell him. I''m telling the truth, too, though I only realize it as I say the words. I don''t want it to get easier to leave people behind, to make friends and then lose them; that seems like a ticket to slowly not caring about any of the events that happen within the loop, to letting myself see people as pieces of a four-dimensional puzzle.


    I don''t want that to happen. I''ll cling on to whatever vestiges of humanity I can. It''s the only thing that''ll keep me sane through all this.


    [ Premonition (Rank B) obtained! ]


    "...Maybe that''s for the best." Ahkelios looks like he wants to argue with me for a moment, but he acquiesces after a moment of thought, to my surprise. There''s something sad in his eyes. A fragment of a memory, swimming back to the surface. "I remember a little more about my loops now."


    "Do you want to talk about it?" I offer. It only seems fair. Ahkelios is the only companion I get to keep across the loops, the only one I can call forth at a moment''s notice. I haven''t been looping for that long, but it''s abundantly clear to me that having him around keeps me sane.


    "...No," Ahkelios decides. I can tell he''s conflicted about it. "Not yet. I don''t remember enough yet."


    That''s a lie, I think.


    But I don''t call him out on it. If he wants to keep this to himself until he''s ready, he can.


    "I''m going to go see Tarin and Mari," I say. I want to get that out of the way first. "We need to check if Rotar''s pocket oracle is already broken or if it''s something that happens partway into the loop, and... I want to find out if Tarin still remembers."


    Ahkelios is silent for a moment. "What are you going to do if he does?"


    "I don''t know." I sigh, pushing myself to my feet and gingerly noting that nothing feels sore or broken. It''s strange how feeling okay is suddenly a foreign feeling; I hadn''t even realized how many aches my body had accumulated up until the reset. I must''ve been more injured than I thought.


    I still don''t have a healing skill. Yet another reason to get that Durability upgrade; if I can draw a healing skill again, it''ll solve the problem of long-term damage in loops. I''m lucky I haven''t fallen sick yet, honestly.


    Or maybe it isn''t luck, and the Integrators changed something about my immune system so I don''t spend all my loops sick and dying. Who knows.


    For now, it''s time to make my way back to the Cliffside Crows.


    Flashste¡ª


    As the burst of speed takes me, Premonition activates. My eyes widen. There''s a force barreling towards me, and it screams danger.


    Warpstep!


    There''s no quick way to change directions when I''m moving that fast, so I teleport away from the point of impact, but even with that moment of disorientation, I don''t miss the cracked crater torn into the ground. Even with the distance I''ve created, I''m blown backwards by the shockwave, and my back cracks into a cactus-like tree with a thump. Tough Body protects me, but that doesn''t mean it doesn''t hurt. I grit my teeth.


    What just attacked me?


    The dust clears. I see scales, first, then the telltale silhouette of a tail; a snarling maw attached to a distinctly draconic looking body, twisted and malformed though it is. One half of its body is trying to be quadrupedal, and the other half is trying to be bipedal.


    Perhaps the most notable is the scar over its heart.


    Definitely an Interface monster. Like the mantis we fought only moments ago. Like the harpies that attacked the crows in the first Raid I encountered.


    Why is this here?

 66 — Book 2, Chapter 3 — Breakfast

    Before I can react, Premonition activates again, and I leap out of the way just in time; the monster crackles through the air, static Firmament bursting out of every scale in a cloud of bristling energy. I try to ignore the way the cactus cracks, and wrack my brain to understand what''s happening.


    [ Warning: New anomalies detected in loop. ]


    That has to be it. I''d assumed those anomalies were directly related to the actions I took in the last loop ¡ª evidently, that assumption was incorrect.


    No time to dwell on it. This new enemy is fast. Premonition is the only thing allowing me to keep up with it, and I don''t know if it would have been easier with the upgraded version of Quicken Mind.


    Crystallized Barrier. Hexfold Shield.


    Firmament pours out of me to form a crystalline wall, followed by several casts of Hexfold Shield in quick succession. I don''t know exactly how strong this thing is, but I don''t feel like dying this quickly into the loop.


    "What is this thing?!" Ahkelios yells at me. He''s doing a remarkable job of controlling himself. I hear some panic in his voice ¡ª which surprises me, considering how well he''s handled himself against most of our other opponents so far ¡ª but I also recognize the pulsing Firmament that indicates he''s about to try something himself.


    Premonition activates.


    I swing the barriers around just in time to meet the dragon-centaur ¡ª I really don''t have a better name for it ¡ª head-on, wincing as it pierces through my Crystalline Barrier with a thunderous crack that sends shards of Firmament flying. The Hexfold Shield afterward manages to stop it, but only for a moment. I feel the sting of Premonition again, see its tail swinging around to swipe at me¡ª


    Verdant Armor.


    Green Firmament swirls out of the air and settles around my shoulders, coalescing around my body as solid plate armor. I feel almost immediately the draw of Firmament as it pulls from everything around it, but Premonition still blares a warning, and I let out a snarl as I try to draw on everything I can.


    The Void Inspiration surges within me. I see the tips and edges of the Verdant Armor turning black as Void-tinged Firmament spreads throughout it. The strength of the armor abruptly multiplies and magnifies as it pulls everything it can out of everything around me; I see leaves around me drying and cracking, and plants in a small radius almost instantly withering.


    Verdant Armor flares brighter just as the dragon-thing''s tail slams into me. I skid backwards, letting the momentum toss me away and trying to catch my breath. Even with all the protection I have, I can feel the sting of the blow; whatever this thing is, it''s strong. Stronger than any other monster I''ve fought before, except perhaps Naru and that robot-thing in the Fracture.


    I can''t stay on the defensive. I take a breath and combine Crystallized Strength, Amplification Gauntlet, and Lightning Rod for the speed boost. For good measure, I activate the Mirror Inspiration, feeling a deep anger reflect from myself and into my skills.


    I won''t have much time. This strains my Firmament usage to its limits; the Mirror and Lightning Rod are both difficult to use and even harder to maintain, especially on this many skills at once.


    Black lightning courses through my body, then turns a silver-red. The Amplification Gauntlet does the same, gaining a faint crimson glow. The quality of Firmament changes, becoming something deeper and more profound.


    The dragon-thing charges at me.


    This time, Premonition doesn''t activate.


    I swing my arm forward, feeling the combined skills coursing through my body. At the same time, Ahkelios does something strange, flashing forward and briefly merging himself with my gauntlet. I have no idea what he''s doing, but I feel something about the gauntlet solidify, like it''s been stabilized from within.


    And then I hit the monster.


    The Amplification Gauntlet provides some protection against the sheer force of my blow ¡ª I think I hear the air cracking around my fist as it slams into the dragon-thing''s face, its own momentum working against it on top of everything else. I prepare myself to counter whatever it does in return, mentally going through my options...


    ...except it doesn''t do anything.


    I blink.


    Ahkelios forms again out of my gauntlet, this time distinctly exhausted. He''s panting even though he doesn''t need to breathe, and he''s half-doubled over, heaving.


    "Are you... alright?" I ask. I''m not much better off than he is. I keep a wary eye on the monster, which is currently standing completely still, and also not breathing. There''s text on the Interface, but I don''t dare look away to observe it.


    "I''m fine," Ahkelios says in between breaths. "That was just more tiring than I thought it was gonna be. It''s dead, by the way."


    "It doesn''t look dead." I mean, it does, but only because it''s not breathing and standing completely still. I have a feeling if I push it it''ll topple over.


    I glance at the text. Sure enough, the notification is there on the Interface.


    [ You have defeated a Guilty Chimera (Rank B)! +102 Strength credits. +57 Durability credits. +42 Reflex credits. +5 Speed credits. +20 Firmament credits. ]


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    That''s a lot of Strength credits. Stacking my skills the way I did must have stretched me far beyond what I''ve been capable of so far. My head is throbbing with pain, probably from stacking Lightning Rod with the Mirror; the Inspiration''s cost seems to scale with the skills I use it on, and with Lightning Rod already being incredibly draining...


    I''m lucky I''m alive.


    "It''s dead," Ahkelios says again. He straightens, groaning and doing a little stretch. "Wow, that really sucks. Your gauntlet is really tight. You should make more space in the thing."


    "Care to explain what just happened?"


    "You stacked a bunch of different Firmament skills, right? You would have broken your hand again if I didn''t do anything ¡ª the gauntlet isn''t strong enough to protect you from what you did. I just made sure you didn''t break your hand."


    "That doesn''t explain why it''s dead," I say. "It looks fine."


    "You scrambled its brains." Ahkelios glances up at the monster and shudders slightly, hopping up to settle on my shoulder again. "Whatever it is, it''s got a really tough body, but all that rigidity doesn''t really help if the force can''t go anywhere. It wasn''t made to take a hit like that."


    Oh. That''s... morbid. I take a step back from the monster''s corpse, now significantly more disturbed by my own abilities.


    "It''s a good thing, though!" Ahkelios adds, as if noticing I''m disturbed and trying to cheer me up. "You beat it!"


    I roll my eyes a little, but he does manage to pull a small smile from me. That smile quickly fades as I glance over the monster''s corpse again. "This didn''t happen in any previous loop," I mutter.


    And what is it, exactly? My best guess is that it''s linked to yet another former Trialgoer. It would make sense. Ahkelios being able to draw on that mantis-monster more or less confirms the connection between them, and therefore the potential connection between Trialgoers and these monsters; the Anomaly logs tell me that there have been a lot of people trying to beat this particular Trial¡ª


    A rustle sounds in the leaves. Premonition activates again, and this time it pings on to not one but three distinct presences that all feel like the chimera I just fought; what''s worse is that they''ve surrounded me in a three-pronged attack. Was the first one just bait?


    Warpstep. The strain makes my head throb, but I don''t have much of a choice; I use Warpstep to head straight up, so I can see past the foliage and pinpoint exactly where the attacks are coming from, and if there are any more of them I should be worried about. I need to use it twice to create enough distance.


    The good news, I decide when I look down, is that there are only three of them. That I can see.


    The bad news is that they''re all clearly as strong as the first, and I''m not sure I''m equipped to deal with three Rank B monsters at once. My defeat of the first one was a result of a combination of skills that were taxing to use. I might be able to pull it off one more time, but I can''t imagine two without falling unconscious. If there are three...


    "Ahkelios?" I say out loud. I can, interestingly, use Accelerate to keep myself floating in the air, though not forever. Unlike its parent skills, the direction I use it in doesn''t have to match a direction I can physically move in.


    Which is convenient, because it allows me to have a conversation in the air, and the chimeras don''t look like they have a way to attack me this high up. Ahkelios looks about as worried as I do. "I''m not sure I can do it again," he warns. "Maybe one more time, but after that I''ll be tapped out. If I force it again it''ll damage my Firmament and you might not be able to summon me again for a while."


    "Don''t force it," I say immediately. It''s not worth that. I''d rather cut my losses and lose this loop ¡ª I don''t have anything particularly important that I''ve gained so far. I still don''t want to die, but if it comes down to it...


    I let myself fall, and bleed momentum at the last second with another Warpstep. The chimeras snarl as all three of them turn towards me.


    At least they''re not surrounding me anymore.


    I take a quick mental note. The three of them are different, though on the surface they seem mostly the same; the placement of scars on their bodies don''t quite match up.


    One of them has what looks like acidic drool spilling from its open mouth, dripping onto the floor and eating up the organic detritus in a cloud of acrid smoke.


    Another has invisible ripples around it that feels like some sort of heat-adjacent Firmament, proven by the way some of the drier leaves catch fire as it steps on them.


    The third one is cold. Air condenses into liquid and then freezes into ice around it, leaving small crystals and snowflakes wherever they walk. Its breath is a cloud of vapor, too, obscuring most of its face.


    I''m reminded of the almost electrical Firmament bursting out of the first one''s scales, the way it tore into everything around it. I shudder. Without Ahkelios to boost my gauntlet...


    They''re waiting. I can see them starting to circle around, like they''re trying to subtly surround me again. There isn''t anything subtle about their movements, but that worries me ¡ª the first one was blindly aggressive, and these ones are waiting. It''s like they''re learning.


    If they are, that''s no doubt a part of why they''re B-ranked monsters. I feel like the first one was a little too easy to kill for its rank.


    My gaze flicks to my Interface as I call it up, trying desperately to find a better combination of skills that could help me out here. Maybe the Void-Verdant Armor combination again for defense, with the sheer amount of Firmament these monsters are emitting. If I activate Lightning Rod now and keep it activated, I can move faster than I ever could by just stacking my speed skills...


    Except Lightning Rod still drains me. If I use it, I need to make it count.


    I take a breath and let the Firmament crackle through me. It''s do or die, at any rate¡ª


    I hear the last thing I expected to hear: A loud, cawing scream. A blur of black feathers slams into one of the chimeras and sends them both sprawling, and I sense a very familiar crackle of lightning Firmament.


    Off in the distance, I see another crow, big and bulky and holding an arm up like she''s just fired her husband off into the chimeras, living cannon style. Which I''m pretty sure is exactly what she did.


    ...and also I think her bicep is smoking?


    I have no idea what to say or how to process this, so I go with the first thing that comes to mind. "What the hell, Tarin?"

 67 — Book 2, Chapter 4 — Reunited (and it feels so bad)

    "Ethan!" Tarin squawks at me, dusting himself off like he hasn''t just been tossed like a cannonball directly into monsters that could kill him with a glance. I know he''s strong, but I don''t know that he''s strong enough to survive a direct blow from any of these. "You here!"


    "Where else would I be?" I ask. I honestly haven''t fully processed the situation yet. Thankfully, the chimeras appear to be just as stunned by Tarin''s appearance as I am, and they''re looking at each other like they don''t quite know what to do. It doesn''t help that Mari is rapidly approaching and looks very intimidating.


    I have so many questions.


    "I have so many questions," I add, because it feels like I have to say the words out loud, and also because none of the chimeras are attacking and it gives me time to be as incredulous as I want to be.


    "No time!" Tarin says. "Mari! Throw him!"


    "Wha¡ª do not throw me!" I protest. Mari''s already charging towards me, although compared to me she''s not exactly fast. I Warpstep away just as she approaches, and she folds her arms, looking vaguely annoyed.


    "This Trialgoer?" she asks. "How I throw him if he run?"


    I wince.


    I''ll admit that I''ve been harboring something of a hope that Mari''s somehow been able to remember. It was always a possibility that Tarin would remember, considering the circumstances surrounding his death and his retention of that first loop when he woke up. Mari, on the other hand...


    I don''t know. I guess when I saw her, I let myself think that she''d been able to figure something out. Maybe using a Firmament imbuement inspired by the skill shard I''d given her to study. I didn''t know what she''d been doing while I was traveling with Rotar toward the Great Cities; there was every chance that she''d pulled off a miracle.


    But her words paint the painful truth: she doesn''t remember me at all. More likely than not Tarin''s the one that dragged her here, asking for her help, and she went along with it. Because that''s what she does. That''s how much the two of them trust each other.


    It was how much she''d chosen to trust me, for as little time as she''d known me.


    Something must have shown in my expression, because Ahkelios hops down from my shoulder to look at me with concern. "Ethan¡ª" he begins.


    "I''m fine," I say. My voice is a little rougher than I intend. I shouldn''t have let myself hope that she''d remember. It would have solved so many problems. If she doesn''t remember... This puts Tarin in a difficult position.


    "Ethan!" the old crow in question squawks at me. "You let Mari throw you!"


    "I¡ª do you want to explain why?" I ask. I have to throw myself out of the way of one of the chimeras, who have evidently gotten tired of waiting for us to finish talking to one another; whatever wariness they had at the introduction of two new combatants bleeds off, and they go back to circling us, Firmament radiating even more powerfully from them in what I assume is an attempt at intimidation.


    "Too many! We run!" Tarin seems exasperated that he has to explain this at all. A part of me nearly instantly rebels at this suggestion ¡ª I can kill at least one more of them with Ahkelios''s help, and with both Tarin and Mari to help me out I''m sure we can take out the other two. Tarin glares at me as this thought enters my head, apparently able to read what I''m thinking. "No fight! Not just three!"


    There''s more. I narrow my eyes. I didn''t see anything when I went up into the sky earlier. The canopy does obscure some of my vision, but I should have been able to sense anything else hiding with my Firmament sense, at least...


    While I''m distracted and thinking, Mari picks me up in a single hand, making me yelp in consternation ¡ª though this time I don''t fight her. I feel a massive burst of Firmament, and only just manage to coalesce my Verdant Armor around my ribs before I''m tossed handily up through the forest canopy. Straight towards the crow village.


    I have to admit, her aim is pretty good.


    The problem with this plan, of course, is that it leaves the two of them alone against whatever remains of the crowd of chimeras they have to face. I don''t know what possessed Tarin to think this was a good idea, but I trust that he has a plan that''s a little more complicated than ''throw Ethan as far away from the fight as possible''.


    Probably.


    I wrap myself with Accelerate, which is about the best I can do at this point, feeling the speed at which I''m flying through the air counterintuitively increasing. I reach out with my senses, probing into the forest; if there are other chimeras, I should be able to sense them with focused effort, even if they''re hiding from me...


    There. It''s astonishingly subtle. The forest lights up in a wash of glittering Firmament, spread just far enough apart that it looks like ambient noise; the only reason I spot it at all when I''m paying closer attention is that their camouflage is repetitive. It''s the only semblance of order in the otherwise chaotic movement of Firmament.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    There are at least a half-dozen of them still, hiding in the trees. They weren''t yet getting ready to pounce, or Premonition would have reacted, but... Premonition won''t help me if the first group manages to exhaust me enough.


    Tarin''s definitely saved me here. What I want to know is how they''re planning on saving themselves.


    I catch a glimpse of them off in the distance. Black lightning courses through Tarin''s wings ¡ª he doesn''t try to fight any of the chimeras, although he does dodge their movements effortlessly. Mari seems prepared to fight; even at this distance, I feel the sheer weight of her Firmament. Even she looks like she''s mostly using it defensively, though, blasting chimeras out of her way more than actually trying to kill them.


    They''re out of all our leagues, in these numbers.


    What astonishes me is when Tarin picks up his wife and starts running, blasting through the foliage at mach speeds ¡ª fast enough that he''s actually catching up with me, even with the force of Mari''s throw and Accelerate increasing the speed of my escape. Not for the first time, I wonder how the first raid would have gone if Tarin and Mari hadn''t been so thoroughly suppressed by the Interface.


    I am maybe just now realizing that I don''t actually know how powerful they are. The closest I''ve come to seeing the full extent of their strength is when Mari fought Naru, and I''m relatively certain they were both holding back in that fight.


    Food for thought, I suppose.


    "Uh, Ethan?" Ahkelios stares at me. "I think we''re supposed to land now."


    I blink, glance down, and realize we''re almost over the crow village ¡ª the Cliffside Crows, if I''m going to go by what''s denoted in the map. I grimace and shift the direction of Accelerate so that it points me down instead, trusting in my Verdant Armor to take the impact of a fall without much taking much damage. I''ve survived a punch from a Rank B chimera; I should survive something as simple as a fall.


    ...I reverse the direction of Accelerate before I hit the ground anyway. I''m not really eager to smash into the ground and roll halfway across the village, and I don''t think Mari will be pleased with the amount of damage I''d likely do in the process. Tarin''s another matter entirely; I feel like he''s more likely to call it training.


    I still hit the ground hard enough to bounce, and I flail awkwardly in the air for a second before I land again with a thump. I groan. The armor''s definitely protected me from any damage, but it also makes me feel like I''ve been rattled around in a can of Firmament.


    Which, to be fair, is more or less exactly what happened.


    By the time I come to a stop, Tarin and Mari have managed to catch up. The sight of the two of them is almost comical ¡ª Mari''s balanced precariously on her much smaller husband''s back. It''s only with my Firmament sense that I can tell that they''re both using a remarkably skillful interplay of Firmament to keep themselves balanced.


    "Trialgoer!" Tarin says cheerfully, and then proceeds to dash forward and pull me into a hug. There''s actually a slight ping from Premonition there ¡ª not because he''s planning to hurt me in any way, but because the speed at which he dashes forward is enough to impact my Verdant Armor and send a blaze of crackling, lightning Firmament through it. "Ah! Forgot Firmament. Sorry. Ethan! I remember!"


    "I know," I say. I hug him back, but I don''t sound nearly as excited as Tarin does, and he notices. I glance at Mari, who''s standing a little ways back with her wings folded across her chest and a slight look of uncertainty; she doesn''t know how to react to all this.


    "You not worry!" Tarin tells me. "I explain to her already. She know!"


    "Trialgoer in time loop," Mari grunts. "Now husband also in time loop. Yes?"


    "Yeah," I agree. She opens her beak, and I speak up before she can, anticipating what she''s about to ask. "Tarin only got into because of an accident where he died during what the Trial calls a Raid, and he almost died permanently. The Interface tried to make him stay dead. I don''t... I don''t know how to bring you into the loop as well."


    Not without risking a permanent death on her part, anyway. I haven''t triggered another Raid yet, but there''s no guarantee that she''ll be able to fight as long as Tarin did. I don''t even know if the Phantom Root is still there, reset along with the loop. I should probably find out.


    Mari closes her eyes and takes a breath. "Okay," she says simply.


    "Why you tell her I die!" Tarin demands, the old crow putting his wings on his hips in a way that resembles a small child throwing a tantrum. "That not cool."


    "I think your wife thinks you''re plenty cool enough, Tarin," I say dryly.


    I''m not sure he''s realized the implications yet. That, or he has, and he''s just forcing himself not to think about it. Mari, on the other hand, is doing a much poorer job of hiding her emotions.


    "We should try to figure out what to do next," I say with a small sigh. I don''t know how to broach this topic with her, and Mari doesn''t seem to want to talk about it any further. "I was headed towards the Great Cities with Rotar..."


    Tarin remembers why I headed north with Rotar, but Mari doesn''t ¡ª so I explain the situation with his pocket oracle again, and then continue on to explain the ambush by K''hkeri and the Voidsuit they were shoved into, their agreement to help us, and the way the Firmament slipstream had reacted to the Interface and the temporal Firmament intrinsically tied to me. While I speak, I feel my Firmament slowly recovering.


    It''s... significantly faster than it''s recovered before. Related to the phase shift, perhaps.


    When I''m done talking, there''s a long silence. "That explain why you gone so long," Tarin says thoughtfully. "I worry something happen. Was going to find you. Went to Great Cities! Mari stayed back to look after village. But you not in Cities. No one see funny pink featherless biped. I sure if they see you they remember, so I thought you not reach Great Cities. I look around, but you hard to find."


    I... don''t know how to respond to that. The idea that Tarin actually came looking for me touches me unexpectedly, and I don''t say anything.


    "Mari worried too!" Tarin adds hurriedly, as if he''s concerned that my takeaway is that Mari didn''t care enough to come look for me. "She not remember, but she very worried. Keep telling me to go look for you."


    I have a really hard time responding to this. I have to swallow a small lump that forms in my throat to find the words.


    "Thanks," I say, my voice a little rougher than I want it to be. "I... appreciate that. We should ¡ª let''s go talk to Rotar, yeah?"


    "Yes!" Tarin nods firmly. "We try again. But better, this time. Right, Mari?"


    "We try again," Mari agrees. She sounds more somber than her husband does, and when she meets my eyes, I see the glimmer of pain in them.


    I''m not sure Tarin realizes the implications of him being in the loop at all. I exchange glances with Ahkelios, who looks equally concerned, and I make a small note to myself ¡ª I need to try to find a way to bring Mari into the loop.


    The sooner, the better.

 68 — Book 2, Chapter 5 — Loop Anomalies

    Rotar is missing.


    Tarin and I went to check out his hut, and no one was present. None of the other crows around report any memory of him leaving, and they all seem equally worried. I''m just as worried ¡ª I don''t know if Rotar was missing at this point in time in any of my other loops. I didn''t meet him until much, much later.


    There''s a chance he''s just not around, but...


    No. This stinks of another loop anomaly.


    "Do you know where he keeps his pocket oracle?" I ask.


    "He keep in box!" Tarin declares. He doesn''t seem as worried as I am, strangely. He hops over to a nearby pile of stuff, stacked so high it''s teetering and threatening to fall over any second; it takes a moment for me to realize that there are invisible lines of Firmament holding it all in place. There''s all kinds of things in the pile, too, from glass bottles to strange stones to a variety of carvings.


    Apparently, Rotar is a much more artistic soul than I assumed. Even Ahkelios lets out a chirp of appreciation.


    "Here!" Tarin says, yanking out a box and making the entire pile teeter dangerously ¡ª I wince back, almost expecting it all to crash to the ground, but those lines of Firmament hold surprisingly strong. Tarin grins at me as if he knows exactly what I''m thinking, then tries to pry open the box. "Hm. It locked."


    I reach over, letting my Amplification Gauntlet coalesce around my hand and crushing the lid of the box. "Now it isn''t," I say, in a way that''s probably entirely too smug. Tarin stares at me, looking dismayed.


    "What if box special!" he says. "You not just break people''s things!"


    "I mean, it''ll come back after the loop," I point out.


    "Oh." Tarin blinks a few times. "Okay. But if Rotar angry you explain. I not at fault here."


    I let out a small laugh at that, momentarily pushing aside my worry about him and Mari. She didn''t follow us to the hut, mostly because three people weren''t needed just to look for Rotar ¡ª and, I suspect, because she needed some time to herself. I don''t blame her.


    I take the now-open box from Tarin ¡ª for a given and admittedly generous interpretation of "open" ¡ª and pry off the remainder of the lid from the box, and then peer inside with a slight frown. "It''s empty."


    "What?" Tarin frowns at me. "That not funny."


    "No, it is." I show him the box. "I don''t sense any Firmament from it, either, so it''s not like I accidentally crushed the thing. I think it just... didn''t come back with the loop?"


    We were all caught in a temporal storm. I was shoved three months ahead into a moment just before the world was destroyed.


    Where did Rotar end up?


    I have no proof any of these thoughts are the right answer, of course. For all I know, Rotar woke up with a full set of memories and decided to take his pocket oracle and wander off. But I can''t imagine that in that scenario he wouldn''t have waited for me, unless he started looking for me...


    ...Or maybe I''m just centering my thinking on myself too much, and Rotar''s retained his memories and wandered off for his own reasons that have nothing to do with me.


    Okay, there are two distinct possibilities here. One: Rotar is another looper now, and he''s woken up with a full set of memories and decided to leave his hut with the pocket oracle. Two: Something about the temporal storm we were caught in created another loop anomaly, and he''s... well, something''s happened to him.


    He''s not dead. Probably. I hope.


    There''s a point against the first possibility: no one saw him leave. Even if Rotar was sent back with a full set of memories somehow, he''s not integrated with the Interface and he doesn''t seem to have the right set of abilities to sneak out like this.


    "Do you know if Rotar can do anything stealthy with his Firmament?" I ask. Tarin considers my question for a moment, then shakes his head.


    "Rotar smart. But his Firmament not strong. Weaker than most, usually. It why he use little strings instead of full imbuement." Tarin gestures again to the teetering pile of Rotar''s belongings. "Easier to maintain. It much harder for him to hide."


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    So probably not the first possibility, then. That''s not enough to dismiss it out of hand, but considering I can''t even sense any traces of his Firmament...


    "I hope he''s okay," I mutter to myself. Ahkelios makes a small noise of agreement.


    "I want to talk to him about all this stuff," the mantis says. "I can''t believe he kept it all from me!"


    "...I don''t think he knew you were interested, Ahkelios."


    "Well, he should''ve." Ahkelios crosses his arms at me, and I roll my eyes a bit, managing a small smile in response. The little bit of levity is something I need, anyway.


    "Let''s head back to Mari and figure out our next options," I say with a sigh. "The way I see it, I either go to the Fracture or I try to make it to the Great Cities by myself, but it looks like traveling is going to be a lot more dangerous now. Are those chimeras all over the forest? How did you know where I was?"


    "Crow sense," Tarin says, tapping the side of his head, then chortles to himself. "I kidding. I fast. I remember what direction you come from, start to explore. But I see new monsters. So I run back, bring Mari. I not sure if they also on path to Great Cities, but I think it likely. I come with you! I scout."


    I... hesitate. But there''s no way I can really stop Tarin from following me, and if I''m being entirely honest, I would appreciate the company. I''m just worried about what it''ll do to Mari.


    "Only if you let me study your Firmament," I decide.


    "What? Why you want study my Firmament?" Tarin asks, folding his wings and looking at me suspiciously. "You not copy my Firmament. It mine."


    "I already have something like it," I grumble, letting Intrinsic Lightning flow through me for a moment; a crackle of black lightning Firmament sparks through me, and Tarin grins, like he''d been baiting me into doing that. "I just want to figure out why you can remember the loops. Maybe that way..."


    I trail off before I continue, mostly because Ahkelios pokes me in the cheek and shakes his head wildly at me. I almost glare at him before I realize what he''s getting at, and then I frown. Tarin doesn''t even seem to notice the way I trail off, and instead nods enthusiastically to my suggestion.


    "Yes, yes!" he says. "Study my Firmament. Massage back too! It hurt from running."


    I stare at Tarin, who is currently facing away from me, as if he''s expecting me to give him a back massage right now.


    Then I grab him by the wing and start dragging him out to see Mari.


    "Hey!" he protests. "This violence! Help! Help!"


    None of the crows that notice the scene bother to come helping, and a few of them even give me knowing smirks.


    Apparently this is a common sight in the village.


    ¡ª


    "You go Great Cities first," Mari says.


    That''s her advice, apparently. She''s listened to the full story as much as I can explain it, with Ahkelios interjecting every time I forget something he considers important. "Why?"


    "You need help from Great Cities," Mari says with a shrug. "You say they study Interface, yes? So maybe they help you. Maybe they know more about loop, maybe they not know but can study. Maybe they know what happen to Rotar."


    "And the Fracture doesn''t actually have anything else for me besides a few more dead skill shards and a potentially homicidal robot," I mutter. "Yeah, that makes sense."


    "I go with him," Tarin says. There''s none of his prior mirth in the statement, and he looks at Mari with the full force of his gaze ¡ª he''s serious about this, as playful as he was being earlier. "I help Trialgoer complete Trial. Or do what he need to do."


    I glance at him. Tarin doesn''t joke when it comes to beating the Integrators at their own game, I think. Both Tarin and Mari have good reason to despise them, considering what the Trials did to their son, so it''s not necessarily surprising... But it''s always strange to remember that they have this side to them.


    Mari stares at Tarin for a long moment, then nods her head in slight acceptance. "You come back," she tells him quietly. "I stay. Protect village. New monsters dangerous."


    She hesitates. "Maybe it not matter, if time loop around. But I think it matter, yes? We not act like crow lives not important just because of loop. It dangerous habit."


    "Yes." Tarin''s agreement is firm. "I help, you stay. I come back to you! I promise."


    "I know."


    There''s a quiet sort of acceptance in her voice that quickly transforms into something harder and more determined. Mari looks around their hut, and then stands up, gesturing towards the door. "Tarin, you pack. Ethan, you follow. I find food for you two."


    That sounds like an excuse to talk to me. It works easily enough on Tarin, who immediately dives into his own pile of stuff to start looking for whatever it is he wants to bring along; I follow Mari out of the hut and towards the nearby river, and wait for her to speak first.


    When she does, it''s with a somber tone. "I not even know if this first time you loop," she says, and then holds up a hand when I begin to protest. "I know it first time. I trust. Tarin not good at lying. But... you not tell me anymore about Tarin in loop. Next loop, or loop after that.


    "It not really matter if I remember." Mari lets out a sigh, and I watch her shoulders relax as tension drains out of her. Probably because she''s made and accepted her decision. "I want help. You tell me about Tarin, it become harder for me to help. You understand? Tell Tarin. He not listen if I tell him."


    "I... are you sure?" I ask.


    "I sure." Mari looks out at her own village for a moment. "Tarin and I suspect many things about Trial. We not sure yet. But sometimes... it feel like we in long, long dream. This maybe Tarin''s biggest chance to understand. If you need to tell me, it okay. But otherwise, I not need to know."


    "Okay." I take a breath. Mari''s clearly made a decision, and I intend to respect it, for all that I don''t know how exactly I''m going to convince Tarin to go along with this. "Uh, what do I tell Tarin?"


    "You tell him it prank." Mari grins, finally, even though there''s still something a little sad in that grin. "He love pranks."

 69 — Book 2, Chapter 6 — To the Great Cities (again)

    Tarin''s packed up and ready by the time I get back. Mari shooed me off after our conversation, telling me she needed to go visit some of the other crows in the village to get our supplies ready. I don''t question her ¡ª this version of her doesn''t know me as well, and I imagine she still wants some time to herself.


    Tarin, on the other hand? The old crow looks surprisingly excited.


    "First time you''ve gone out in a while?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.


    "No! I went look for you, remember?" Tarin crosses his wings, looking indignant, and I laugh.


    "Guess you have a point." I hesitate. "Did you find anything interesting in the Great Cities? Anything we should take note of?"


    Tarin pauses, then takes a second to think about the question. "I mostly focus on finding you," he says thoughtfully. "But I think I see big fight in city. That about thirty days after we meet."


    "How big was the fight?" I ask, more out of curiosity than anything.


    "Very." Tarin actually frowns a little as he speaks, which worries me more than anything else he''s mentioned so far, considering he''s talking about a fight. "I think it Trialgoer fight. Hestian Trialgoers... I not sure if Naru there. But many things destroyed. I run."


    "You mean you didn''t try to join in?" Ahkelios peeks over my head curiously, which he''s... actually kind of worse at doing now that he''s bigger. It''s not like my hair can hide most of his body anymore.


    "I not going to fight Trialgoer. Unless it Naru." Tarin says, huffing. "And finding Ethan more important! Also Trialgoer fight... very strange. I not join even if I want."


    "That makes it sound like you tried to join in," I say dryly, and when Tarin doesn''t say anything in response, I groan and stare at him. "Tarin."


    "I need see how strong our enemies are!" Tarin says, which is absolutely not an excuse for someone who at the time was not in the loop and ¡ª from his point of view ¡ª would have suffered a permanent death if he had been even a little bit less careful. I hadn''t considered that time loop existentialism could potentially be infectious. "And it help, see?"


    I don''t think I''m up for a conversation about best practices in time loops right now. It''s not like I''m an expert¡ª


    To my surprise, Ahkelios speaks up.


    "You still need to be careful," the mantis says seriously. "What''re you gonna do if you leave Mari alone, huh? She would''ve had to experience you being missing for two months if you died."


    Tarin looks briefly nonplussed. "I not think about that," he says awkwardly after a moment. "I be more careful in future."


    "Please do," I say. I haven''t tried this before, but I pluck at the Firmament bond between Ahkelios and I, sending a resonant feeling of gratitude down the line; Ahkelios responds with what appears to be the emotional equivalent of a thumbs up.


    I should talk to him more later, now that he''s regained a little more of his memories and a little more of his agency.


    "Do you have any idea what the fight was about?" I ask after a short pause. "I don''t suppose they were yelling their motivations at each other or anything?"


    Tarin gives me a strange look. "No, they only fighting," he says. "But I think I see... strange Firmament coming from building. Not from skill."


    Now that''s interesting. Tarin isn''t even as sensitive to Firmament as I am, so if there''s something visible to him, it must have been strong enough to be visible to anyone. "Any idea which building it was?"


    Tarin shrugs. "If we in city again, I show you," he says . "I remember!"


    Well, that''s where we''re headed ¡ª and it seems like that''s the best I''m going to get out of him. I glance up at the ceiling, a little bit worried that the robot that attacked me in the Fracture is going to show up again. For no particular reason, really. Just a strange impulse,  like I''m being compelled to look at something that isn''t there.


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    It feels a lot like a premonition.


    ¡ª


    It''s not long before we''re ready to leave. It all feels eerily familiar, with the only difference being that Tarin is heading out with me instead of Rotar, and Mari is the only one staying behind. We''re bringing out practically the same set of supplies, with a little extra handful of berries that Mari had informed me were Tarin''s favorite and that I would have to ration them.


    In retrospect, I feel I should have questioned the berry thing a bit more, but I can''t ask her about it now without Tarin seeing. I''ll probably just ask Ahkelios later.


    "You careful, okay?" Mari says firmly. She says it more to Tarin than to me, although she does acknowledge me with a slight nod of her head; I try not to think too hard about the lack of recognition in her eyes. She sees me as someone she has chosen to trust, but she doesn''t really see me as the person who saved her husband.


    In this loop, I''m the one taking him away from her.


    "We careful!" Tarin agrees. "I protect Ethan!"


    He says that to reassure her. I see her glance at me out of the corner of her eye, her brow slightly raised, and I hold back a chuckle. It''s not that Tarin isn''t able to protect me ¡ª it''s that she''s expecting me to pull my weight.


    "We''ll protect each other," I say, and some of the tension in Mari''s shoulders bleeds out a bit. She gives both of us a broad smile, sweeping Tarin into a tight hug that I look away from and then giving me a less affectionate but equally gentle one ¡ª I''ve forgotten how easily these two trusted me, and how much they gave me just on my word alone. Tarin''s one thing in this loop, since he remembers, but Mari...


    Over and over, she''s been choosing to trust me. I almost ask her why.


    But I don''t.


    We depart from the Cliffside Crows with much more fanfare than before ¡ª the crows are all quite understandably attached to their village grandpa, and several of them want to delay us a little bit so they can throw a farewell party, but Tarin is very firm about saying no. He doesn''t stop them from crowding around him and giving and well-wishes, and I watch as half the children in the village come up to give him a tight hug. Tarin gives every single one of them a personalized message about being good.


    ...Sometimes he also gives them a training regimen, which they seem to be very excited about.


    I wait through all of it. It surprises me, but some of the crows come up to me, too, telling me they hoped the trip would go well and that they were excited to see us come back. That touches me in an unexpected way. I''d expected resentment for taking someone away from them, but I don''t see any of that. They all just genuinely wish me well.


    I''d save this village from a dozen more raids if I have to. The thought occurs to me just out of the blue. It was worth the pain of those loops. I mean, I already would have. But now the thought of the possibility of the Integrators calling down another raid on them ¡ª of Naru attacking them, or the upcoming Fracture anomaly wiping them out ¡ª makes my blood boil.


    "You ready?" Tarin says, interrupting my thoughts. Most of the crows save for Mari have retreated by now to give us a bit more space, although quite a few of the children are still waving frantically at Tarin. I notice among them the one kid I saw die during the raid on this village.


    It''s hard to forget these things, sometimes.


    "Yup," I say, hoisting the makeshift satchel over my shoulder. I''ve chosen to carry my supplies this time instead of dumping them all into the Empty City. Mostly because I have no idea if it''s safe to open, and Ahkelios isn''t sure if the safe area timer has reset, either. "Let''s go."


    ¡ª


    Okay, so there is in fact a significant difference between traveling with Rotar and traveling with Tarin, and it''s that this time around it''s hard for me to keep up with him. As fast as I am when I stack all my speed skills together, he''s had years of experience and all his Firmament is attuned to speed; Intrinsic Lightning helps me mimic some of that, turning the main body of Firmament I control into a conduit for speed, but it still doesn''t match up to him.


    Flashstep lets me keep up in bursts. Warpstep is too expensive to use to teleport the distances I need to to be able to keep up with him. Accelerate... Well, I keep that skill on, because without it I would already have fallen far behind Tarin.


    "What wrong?" Tarin calls back to me. "You slow!"


    "You''re just ridiculously fast!" I yell back at him.


    Ahkelios is clinging on to my hair for dear life. He doesn''t have to, of course ¡ª the nature of our bond will keep him with me ¡ª but apparently teleporting every couple of meters is very disorienting for him. Which... fair.


    At the pace we''re going, we won''t even need a slipstream. I''m a little worried that we''ll get attacked by K''hkeri again, but although I keep my eyes out and my senses peeled, I don''t notice them around at all. That''s probably for the best, and yet I can''t help but be worried.


    K''hkeri is missing. So is Rotar. There are new monsters in the loop, and they''re scattered throughout the forest; the only reason we''re avoiding them now is because of how fast we''re going.


    What else in the loops have changed?

 70 — Book 2, Chapter 7 — Layers

    We''re making very good time. We''ve had to stop for a few breaks, mostly because running at this speed costs a lot of energy even with Firmament. We''ve had to stop a couple of times for the crow equivalent of energy bars ¡ª which are long, very hard sticks packed together with Firmament that I''ve been assured are edible and that taste like dirt.


    I''m not a fan. Tarin, on the other hand, devours his eagerly. Ahkelios just stares at them and then makes a face. "Glad I don''t need to eat," he comments.


    I throw an energy stick at him.


    Such is its construction that the stick just bounces off and lands in the dirt, remaining completely unblemished. The layer of Firmament packed around it keeps it protected ¡ª not that I''d be able to tell without my Firmament sense. It''s kind of the same color as the dirt.


    "You not like?" Tarin asks. "It good!"


    "It''s not my thing," I say, as diplomatically as I can. I''m considering grabbing some of my previous supplies from the Empty City, no matter the risk. That''s a last resort, though. I can probably still forage for fruit.


    "More for Tarin," Tarin says with a shrug, and goes back to chomping down on his... nutritional stick. Look, I really don''t know what to call these things.


    After a second of staring at him, I decide I can no longer stand seeing him eating what has to be a tasteless stick. I rummage around in my pack, pick out one of the berries Mari gave me, and toss one of them to him. "Here," I say. "Have this too."


    At least for the sake of my own sanity.


    Tarin brightens as soon as he sees the berry, catching it and tossing it straight into his mouth. I''m... I''m not sure he even chews. "Traveler berry! Mari give you?"


    "Yes?" I say, not knowing how to react.


    "Yessss." Tarin does not elaborate, and promptly flops over onto the ground.


    I laugh a little at his antics. We have some more time for a break, here; I''m not fully recovered yet. I feel my Firmament well slowly refilling, and I let myself focus on the sensation, for lack of anything better to do. I want to familiarize myself with its use. There''s so much that it''s clearly capable of doing, and yet I know little to nothing about it. Gheraa has told me that his people ¡ª the Integrators ¡ª are made entirely of the stuff.


    Living, solidified Firmament. I glance briefly at Ahkelios, who has wandered off to examine some of the nearby flowers; I see him poking away at them, and then letting out a startled yelp when a strange, buzzing thing pokes its head out of the flower and nearly stings him. I have to stifle a chuckle at the sight.


    But the Integrators are not so different from Ahkelios as he is now, are they?


    There are differences, though. The Integrators don''t look like they''re made of Firmament at all ¡ª except for the traces of glowing light along their bodies, there''s not much of an indication that they''re comprised of the stuff. My Firmament sense is dampened in the Inspiration-space, or at least tuned so that I can only sense specific things. I can always feel the Inspirations Gheraa offers me.


    Everything else he does? Not so much.


    The point is, if what he''s told me is true, then the Integrators are packed with enough Firmament to look and feel like solid stone. That''s a terrifying prospect. I''ve seen Firmament gather in quantities that burn so bright they''re hard to look at. I''ve never seen Firmament so intense that it just solidifies.


    And what does it mean that they''re made of Firmament, exactly? Are they enacting the will of the Firmament ¡ª does Firmament have a will in that way? Or are they artificial creatures, created from another species entirely?


    All questions I don''t have the answers for. I might be able to speak to Gheraa soon, but...


    I glance at my credits.


    [ Credit Distribution:


    Strength: 216 (179 banked)


    Durability: 395 (84 banked)


    Reflex: 42 (360 banked)


    Speed: 92 (273 banked)


    Firmament: 90 (256 banked) ]


    Close. The plan is to bank Durability the moment it reaches 501 and guarantees me a Rank A skill. If I''m lucky, I''ll manage to roll my first Rank S skill from this, and a Rank S skill in Durability will do a lot to stop me from having to loop.


    ...Maybe I should get Tarin to punch me a few times so that the next time I get credited points I get more Durability.


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    But that''s not likely to help that much; I already know that training is less effective than in a real fight. I''ll have to go out of my way to take more hits, and that''s going to be dangerous in itself.


    Just a hundred and six more points. One hundred and six until I get a new Durability skill, an Inspiration, and Gheraa can give me answers.


    I hope.


    I bring my attention back to the way my Firmament is moving within me. I try to understand how, exactly, my Firmament refills ¡ª there is clearly a limit to how much I can bring to bear, how much I can use at any given time. The more I force it when I''ve depleted my stores, the worse the pounding in my head. Presumably, if I force it hard enough, there is a risk of real damage. It''s one of the few types of pain that survive across loops.


    There''s something of... not a core, exactly. There''s no singular source, no hard lump of energy sitting somewhere in the center of my being that absorbs and emits Firmament. But as I sweep over it with my Firmament sense, I realize that there is a resonance. I''m attuned to it almost automatically, and it affects everything I can see within myself.


    But if I shift it, just a little bit...


    I can see a little deeper.


    Firmament is made of layers, I realize. It''s almost like a fractal ¡ª every individual piece of my Firmament is the same no matter how I separate it or pull it apart. The outermost layer is the one I usually see, and the layer that all my Inspirations rest on; I can feel the Void thrumming curiously as I brush my senses past it. The Accelerator does the same, though the feeling I get from it is less curiosity and more... anxiety?


    Concerning. I haven''t exactly been able to speak with that Inspiration, though; the Void seems wholly unique in its ability to speak.


    I shift my senses slightly, and feel my mind sinking deeper.


    This is the layer where my Firmament instability is ¡ª the one Tarin called out. It''s uniquely disorienting to be examining a part of myself with that very same part of myself; the landscape around me is constantly shifting, reacting to every tiny change in Firmament around it. It''s hard to tell, exactly, but I can sense two distinct areas where Firmament gathers. They feel like distinct opposites in nature, somehow, and the field created by them creates this zone of instability.


    It bears further investigation... but looking at it for this long is already making me sick, with the way it vibrates in response to me even looking at it, which increases the intensity with which my Firmament sense scans it, which causes it to vibrate even more¡ª


    Nope. One more layer down.


    The third layer I feel is intimately familiar. I can feel traces of Tarin''s black Firmament here, along with a small fragment of Akar''s lilac purple and Mari''s verdant green...


    Seeing that gives me pause.


    The feeling of Mari''s Firmament here is achingly familiar. This came from the version of her that knew me, and this piece of Firmament hasn''t changed. It''s like a small piece of my memory of her, preserved in the depths of my Firmament. I am... surprised by how grateful I feel for it.


    The layer itself is more complicated than just the presence of those three influences, though. There''s a large pillar of Firmament that feels similar to the type of Firmament I''ve come to expect from the Interface, and then there''s a smaller pearl of Firmament here that just feels like...


    Well, it just feels like me.


    This piece of Firmament is nearly solid to my senses. If it were possible for me to reach out and touch it, I almost suspect it would be solid ¡ª that it would interact with my senses the same way the Integrators would. I''m not sure if that means something. If it does, it... it might mean that the Integrators were built. Engineered. Created with intention, using building blocks pulled straight from lower layers of Firmament.


    I push that thought to the side for the moment, and try to move deeper¡ª


    For a moment, I glimpse something. I see a barely-formed fourth layer of Firmament, made of nothing but bare strings of possibility, like a web that''s just barely begun to be built. Between the strands of possibility are¡ª


    The moment I try to perceive it, my Firmament sense snaps, forcing me backwards in a way that makes me flinch; for a moment, a fiery pain erupts in my skull, although it fades just as quickly. I''m left blinking away spots from my eyes.


    What was that? Even trying to remember what I''d glimpsed causes the headache to come back, though not nearly as bad as before. I shake my head a few times, trying to get rid of the lingering pain, and then realize that there''s a notification waiting for me.


    [ Firmament calibration attempt: Stalled at 70%


    Anomalies found in Firmament base. Unable to proceed. Backup procedure initiated.


    The Interface will evaluate your Firmament base by simulating a close, non-anomalous model of your Firmament base. There may be minor inaccuracies in presented data.


    Firmament base attunement: 62.3%


    Progress to next phase-shift: 16.2% ]


    That''s... interesting. I''m not sure what it is that''s so anomalous about my Firmament base. Maybe it''s the presence of Interface Firmament within it? I did achieve my first shift while fighting off the Interface for Tarin.


    Or maybe it''s related to the Firmament instability in the second layer.


    The progress percentage is obvious, but the attunement the Interface mentions is not. I frown slightly. Does that mean I''m not fully attuned to my own Firmament base?


    ...It''s probably best to ask Tarin.


    "Hey, Tarin," I say out loud. "Any chance you know what attunement with my Firmament base is supposed to be?"


    Tarin rolls around to look at me. "Wha?" he says, half-slurring the word. "''Tunement... ''tunement good! More ''tunement... more better."


    I stare at him.


    "Is he drunk?" Ahkelios asks me casually. I just groan.


    Dammit, Mari.

 71 — Book 2, Chapter 8 — New Locations

    It turns out that Mari knew what she was doing. Sort of.


    Tarin can still move fast while he''s... drunk. Or high. I don''t exactly know what those berries did to him, but he seems to be enjoying himself a lot. The key thing here is that the traveler''s berry ¡ª as he called it ¡ª does slow him down. It just puts him mostly on par with me in terms of speed.


    It''s a little embarrassing, but without me straining my Firmament to its absolute limits, we actually make better time.


    [ You have discovered a location! Location found: The Tired Ruins (Rank B) ]


    [ You have discovered a location! Location found: Haunted Village (Rank C) ]


    [ You have discovered a location! Location found: Spawn Pit (Rank A) ]


    [ You have discovered a location! Location found: Quiet Grove (Rank N/A) ]


    It''s been a while since the map''s explicitly called out that I''ve found a new location. At the speed we''re going at, we pass by several structures and strange anomalies, all of which are apparently just on the path towards the Great Cities. The Tired Ruins look like the remains of a sagging stone castle, strewn about a massive field that stretches over the horizon. Empty suits of armor wander it, some of them missing entire pieces. Which is how I know they''re empty.


    The Haunted Village is... pretty much exactly that. What''s worrying to me is that it looks remarkably similar to a clone of the crows'' own village, except darker and without any of the life that the crows bring to it. Everything is painted in shades of muted blue, and the layer of dust tells me that no one has been here in a while.


    Thankfully, the monsters that roam it are not ghostly crows. They look, if anything, like rotating orbs of ghostly energy. I can sense the Firmament radiating from them. I almost want to stop and fight them, but Tarin keeps going when I try to get him to stop, and I make a frustrated noise in my throat and follow him.


    The Spawn Pit is... pretty much exactly what it sounds like. Tarin and I fly over it, and we see no small amount of snake-creatures writhing around within it. I shudder a bit and cloak myself in a Barrier.


    The Quiet Grove is where we finally choose to take a break. I''m surprised the Interface marks it as a location at all ¡ª there doesn''t seem to be anything interesting here, it''s just a small cluster of trees that sits in the middle of a field. It''s as good a place as any to stop for a break, and so that''s what we do.


    And it''s only when we''ve been here for a while that I realize the likely reason this place is marked the way it is.


    There''s something here.


    It''s a strand of foreign Firmament, because of course it is ¡ª but what''s interesting about it is that my Firmament sense doesn''t pick up on it in the usual way. It manifests as a low hum in my ear, reverberating like the beats of a distant drum, inaudible to anyone except to those with a particular sensitivity to Firmament.


    "There''s something here," I say out loud, mostly for Tarin''s benefit. The sound vanishes almost as soon as I speak.


    "What you mean?" Tarin asks me, and I hold up a hand to shush him. He bats my hand away indignantly. "Ethan! You not just say something here and then not tell me what!"


    Evidently, he''s still a little drunk.


    "It''s a sound. I''m trying to find it again," I say distractedly. The sound comes back whenever either of us aren''t talking. Maybe the name Quiet Grove isn''t a reference to how loud the grove is. Maybe it''s an instruction.


    Or maybe I''m applying too much logic to the absurdity of the Interface.


    Ahkelios, to his credit, isn''t making a sound, although I can tell he''s curious from the way he squints at the air around us ¡ª no doubt trying to sense whatever I''m sensing for himself. He doesn''t seem to be having much luck in that regard, but I leave him to it.


    What I don''t understand is what this is supposed to be. A puzzle? A secret? Something that''s always been on Hestia, hidden away until it was marked by the Interface?


    The sound shifts.


    The longer we''re silent, the louder it sings; Firmament hums through the air at me, weaving itself into a quiet song that aches with nostalgia and familiarity. It''s clear enough to my ears that I glance to both Tarin and Ahkelios, to see if they can hear what I''m hearing ¡ª but neither of them are reacting to the song that''s playing.


    Just me, then.


    Under my breath, I begin to hum along with it.


    It''s more a subconscious than anything; it''s not like I''m intentionally trying to burst into song. But Tarin''s eyes widen as soon as he hears the first few notes, and he practically tackles me, a feathery blur burying itself into my abdomen and sending me sprawling. The Barrier I called up reduced the impact enough to prevent me from bruising, but...


    "Ow," I say plainly. It doesn''t hurt that much. "What gives, Tarin?"


    "You hear song!" Tarin looks both excited and worried all at once. "Here?"


    "Yes?" I confirm. It''s not like I''ve heard this anywhere else.


    "Song is big." Tarin focuses on me, his gaze suddenly razor sharp. "You not sing the song. It special. For you only, understand?"


    "But what is it?"


    "Song..." Tarin pauses, trying to find the words; he fluffs up his feathers in agitation as he does so. "Song is message. Song is prayer. Song is heart."


    It takes me a second to make the connection. "Like... Hestia''s Heart? The Heart of the planet?"


    "Yes!" Tarin nods vigorously, relieved that I''ve picked up what he''s trying to say. "You hear song, it only for you to hear. Not for you to share."


    "But it''s just... a song. What am I supposed to do with it?"


    "Listen," Tarin says. "No more talking! You listen. Hear Hestia''s Heart. Yes?"


    "Fine," I grumble. It''s not like he''s giving me much of a choice.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    I close my eyes. It helps a little, I think. I hear Tarin move away to give me more space, and my Firmament sense tells me Ahkelios moves with him. The noise they make fades away, and the Quiet Grove''s silence once more settles over the grove.


    Slowly, the song begins again. I hear it in trickles: a slow, drumming beat at first, and then an emerging melody that aches with the sound of a forgotten childhood, a lost friend, a past lover. It feels almost like I''m listening to someone else''s private, mournful song.


    But it''s the Heart, according to Tarin. The Heart of the planet ¡ª the thing the Integrators are after. The point of the Trial, hidden deep within the recesses of the Fracture, which is also the origin of what the system labels Anomaly 006. The explosion that rips the planet apart.


    Tarin tells me this is a message, so I listen closer, trying to peer through the song into whatever the Heart might be trying to tell me. Part of me feels a little ridiculous doing this. But it''s no more ridiculous than anything else I''ve done since arriving on this planet, so it''s hardly a surprise when something changes.


    My earlier practice with Firmament helps. There''s something to the music ¡ª layers hidden within the Firmament, just below the surface of the song. If I focus my senses and tease it apart...


    There is a message in there. A whisper beneath the song, so quiet it''s hard to make out.


    So quiet it''s only audible in a place specifically created to be silent.


    That''s what special about the Quiet Grove, I think. It''s not that the ''quiet'' part of its name is an instruction, or even that the Interface chose to dignify this random, calm spot in the middle of nowhere with a location name. It''s something about the Firmament that runs through the trees and around the edges of the grove, sucking up every spare bit of sound so that not even the rustling of the leaves and grass can be heard.


    The place is quiet. The name is quite literal.


    More importantly, I hear what the Heart is saying.


    dying, it whispers. help


    Am I supposed to respond to it? I don''t know how. The way it speaks through Firmament is entirely foreign to me, and although I make an attempt to reach out with Firmament Manipulation, the degree of control it takes to attune Firmament to sound is... somewhere far beyond me.


    It doesn''t matter, anyway. The Heart continues, the tone of its voice shifting, as if surprised.


    pawn of the Integrators, it says. you hear me


    ...It''s probably better that I can''t respond. My fists involuntarily clench at being called a pawn, when I''ve worked so hard to be anything but ¡ª and at the same time, a new fear blooms within me. Have I been playing into their hands this whole time?


    A short pause, and the Heart continues, sounding almost... amused.


    no, not pawn, it hums. you make your own path through the storm. perhaps you will be different


    listen well, not-pawn


    i have lived through this cycle many, many times


    so many i have lost count


    but it is close to three hundred


    perhaps a little over


    if you wish for things to be different


    you cannot walk the same path


    i see you have already begun to do things differently


    but it will not be enough


    seek out the echoes from the cycles of the past


    break the hold of the Interface


    you have found one of them


    there are many, many more


    you do not need them all


    but you will need some of them


    if you are to face what lies ahead


    The Heart''s words are whispered and airy, sung to a cadence that''s akin to the lyrics of a song. It''s actually a little difficult to follow. It pauses there, as if to give me a moment to process what it''s said, and then it continues.


    i have come to know the Integrators well


    they are many


    but they are not the same


    their Firmament is so old


    so broken


    some breaks are better than others


    if you have found an ally, keep them close


    but look for the cracks


    also, your two lost ones are temporally dislocated


    they are safe but lost


    you may need to find them


    good luck


    The song fades, and my mind is left awhirl with thoughts.


    It sounds like the Heart approves of Gheraa, for a certain definition of ''approve''. The mention of the two lost ones are almost certainly K''hkeri and Rotar; it''s a relief to know that they''re alright, but much more concerning to know that they aren''t just going to reappear.


    Temporal dislocation doesn''t sound like a healthy condition, but it''s not like that gives me any leads on how to find them.


    "Alright," I say out loud. "I''ve heard its message. I don''t think any of it is something I needed to keep a secret." I glance at Tarin, who shakes his head vehemently.


    "Secret!" he insists, and then, softer, "Integrators watching."


    On that note, I suppose, he has a point. I shouldn''t talk openly about everything, especially not its words about the Integrators.


    But there''s something else weighing on my mind. The words the Heart opened with.


    i have lived through this cycle many, many times


    so many i have lost count


    but it is close to three hundred


    perhaps a little over


    I''ve seen that number before. I remember how the Interface introduced me to this world, back when I was first summoned and tossed into the Trial.


    [ Welcome to Hestia 307B! ]


    What if that three hundred and seven records the current cycle Hestia is in?


    That''s three hundred and six other loopers. Three hundred and six times the planet has been through the same Trial, over and over.


    "Hey, Tarin," I say. "How many Trialgoers have been on Hestia?"


    I hope I''m wrong. But I''m thinking about it now, and while Naru has mentioned that the planet has been through other Trials, and is clearly aware of it... Tarin hasn''t. Mari wasn''t aware, either, last time I asked. But Tarin''s a little more well informed, so perhaps¡ª


    "What you mean?" Tarin frowns at me. "Hestia only get one Trialgoer! You first Trialgoer!"


    Nope. This is exactly what I think it is.


    This planet''s been through this cycle three hundred and six times.


    Tarin ¡ª and every other person in the loop, save for the Hestian Trialgoers ¡ª have lived through three hundred and six sets of loops, one for every Trialgoer that has ever been on this planet.


    I should have made this connection before.


    An cold anger burns in my chest. It''s not like it was ever really gone, but the flame is brighter than ever.


    "Are you alright?" Ahkelios is the one to ask that question. It''s the first time he''s spoken in a while, and he looks at me like he''s nervous, or... or afraid.


    I don''t want him to be scared of me.


    I let a breath go. I can talk to him about this when I''ve calmed down a little.


    "Let''s get to the Cities," I say.


    This doesn''t change my goals. But it does paint in stark colors exactly what has been done to this planet and its people. It tells me what the Integrators will do to the Earth if we pass their Trials... and honestly, I suspect now that their condition about destroying the Earth is a blatant lie. They want to use Earth the way they''re using Hestia.


    Neither Tarin nor Ahkelios argue, perhaps sensing my mood. Firmament flows through me as I activate every speed-related skill I can that won''t instantly drain me, and we shoot off through the grass towards the Great Cities.


    So much to do, so little time.


    Ironic.

 72— Book 2, Chapter 9 — The Great Gates

    I appreciate the silence as we speed through the scenery. Both Ahkelios and Tarin can see that I''m not in the mood to talk, and while they seem like they want to ask me what''s on my mind, they''ve both chosen to give me space for now. I appreciate it ¡ª I''m not sure I''m ready to confront the whirlwind of thoughts that are still running through my mind.


    Naru mentioned that the Hotspot we encountered was from the fifty-seventh Trial. That implies that Ahkelios was the fifty-seventh looper, and I can probably check by going through the Anomaly logs, assuming he left any. There are other possibilities ¡ª fifty-seventh might mean the fifty-seventh out of Earth''s three thousand Trialgoers ¡ª but that seems like a stretch, especially with how clear it is that Ahkelios is related to the Hotspot. He''s got memories of it, after all.


    So I''ve always known that there have been many, many Trials on Hestia. I just didn''t consider that there had been over three hundred. The number is chilling to me, because that number represents more than three hundred planets ¡ª more than three hundred civilizations that have been approached by the Integrators.


    It also represents more than three hundred attempts to beat this Trial.


    I''m not being told everything. The Trial has to be something more than just willpower, if that many people have failed.


    My ruminations aside, it''s not much longer before one of the Great Cities appears over the horizon. Apparently, we''ve already covered most of the distance at the speed we''ve been going. I still don''t expect the sheer scale of it, though; what begins as a dull, matte-gray line quickly rises over the trees, and eventually towers taller than some of the skyscrapers I''ve seen on Earth.


    Tarin and I slow down, mostly so we aren''t approaching the wall at full speed. I doubt the guards will react well to two Firmament-enhanced individuals rocketing like bullets towards their walls. Good thing, too, because as soon as we stop, we''re approached by one of the guards.


    He isn''t wearing a voidsuit, to my relief; I don''t have to worry that I''m interacting with someone that''s being physically controlled through Void, let alone the reaction that the Inspiration would have to that. Instead, he''s wearing a set of heavy plate armor that''s shimmering with a dense layer of Firmament ¡ª I can feel the complexity of the anchoring through my Firmament sense.


    And yet it''s distinctly different from how the crows do it. There''s no anchoring point to tie the Firmament into the object. Instead, it feels like the Firmament has been shaped and weaved in such a way that its shape conforms to the armor. On top of that, I can sense other layers and types of Firmament coursing through the woven network.


    Now that I think about it, Virin only ever helped me with the enchantment stage of imbuement. There are still the anchoring and magnification stages. I''ll have to talk to him again when I get the chance ¡ª I need every advantage I can get.


    "Ahem," the guard says, and I realize I''ve been staring at his armor for a while. Tarin snickers at me, and I roll my eyes. "State the purpose of your visit?"


    Tarin answers for me, thankfully. I''m not quite ready to talk to anyone yet. "We here to tour!" he says, puffing his chest out proudly. "We hear great things about the Great Cities, see? We want see for ourselves. So we here."


    "Right." The guard doesn''t look like he believes Tarin. He folds his arms across his chest, scanning Tarin closely, and then turning his gaze to me.


    And then his eyes land on Ahkelios, and I tense.


    "What is that?" the guard asks.


    Before I can come up with a response, Ahkelios speaks. "I''m not a ''what'', I''m a ''who''!" he declares indignantly. He crosses his own arms, mimicking the guard''s own stance, except his stature makes him look patently ridiculous compared to the guard. I start to ready myself to use my skills; Quicken Mind, to ready myself for anything the guard does...


    ...but Premonition isn''t activating. There isn''t danger here?


    "Hah!" The guard bursts into guffawing laughter, his entire attitude suddenly changing. "I see. You''re entertainers! From one of our vassal states, I assume? I know one''s populated with a lot of you crows, although I have no idea what either of you little friends here are. Picked up a stray, did you?"


    Despite myself, I relax. Being called a stray isn''t great, but it''s better than any of the myriad of other reactions this guy could have had. It does strike me as strange that he doesn''t immediately recognize me as a Trialgoer ¡ª it''s a possibility I forgot to consider, and one that I''m regretting now, except Tarin doesn''t seem at all concerned about it.


    Tarin and Mari both recognized almost immediately that I was a Trialgoer. What''s different here?


    Maybe the population on Hestia is a lot more diverse than I''d initially assumed. I''ve already seen crows and morphlings, after all, and I have no idea what species this guard is; most of his features are hidden behind his armor. He''s humanoid, but that''s about all I can identify ¡ª even the helmet has an obscuring layer of shadowy Firmament that hides everything except his eyes.


    They''re strange eyes, though. Chromatic. Not a morphling or a crow, then, unless there''s something I don''t know about either of those species.


    "Not stray!" Tarin says, to my surprise. "He friend. He help me, understand? What word... Ah! Apprentice!"


    Well, I''m glad Tarin''s standing up for me, at least.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "I train him!"


    Mostly glad.


    "City has training facilities, yes?"


    Maybe not that glad.


    "Of course, of course," the guard says, not questioning anything Tarin is saying at all. It''s a wonder this city hasn''t been invaded yet.


    But maybe that''s what this is. They aren''t paranoid about attackers because they have no reason to be; that armor the guard is wearing is already stuffed with more Firmament than I could hope to generate on my own, and if every one of their guards has something like that, then they don''t have much to fear from the outside. I''m not exactly familiar with Hestian geography or most of the landmarks on this continent, so it''s possible they''ve just had a long, extended peacetime.


    If they''re not scared, though, why the massive wall?


    I remember what Rotar''s told me about the Great Cities ¡ª that they''re a loose coalition of cities clustered around the center of the continent. Presumably, this is one of them. I probably should''ve asked Tarin for a little more information about the specific city we were headed to first.


    Then we get to the Gates, and everything makes a lot more sense.


    The wall isn''t surrounding a city like I''d assumed. This is a massive wall that encircles a giant section of land, within which the Cities reside. I wonder for a moment what the point of the wall is, and then I remember what Tarin told me about the number of monsters seeded on Hestia because of the Trial. Maybe they built it to defend themselves, and since this is still early in the cycle ¡ª and the first loop ¡ª they haven''t had to actually fight anything yet.


    I think about the chimeras I had to fight.


    Yet. Even with their armor, if enough of those decide to try to break through the walls, I''m not sure they can fight them all off. That, and I doubt the chimeras are the only monsters roaming Hestia. I''m surprised we didn''t run into anything on the way here, but at the speeds we were going, I''m guessing we blew past the majority of the monsters that would otherwise have chased us down.


    The gate itself is a transparent barrier of Firmament. It''s dense and thick, too, stronger than almost anything I''ve encountered short of the blast in the Fracture. Part of me wonders how it''s being maintained, but considering the entire wall seems to be charged and imbued with Firmament, part of me suspects that this is just a project that they''ve been working on for a long, long time.


    In stark contrast with the Firmament-enhanced gate and the sheer scale of the wall, however, is the outpost of guards that stand around just outside the gate. They have a scattered set of tents and wooden furniture that looks like it''s been sitting out in the open for years and barely maintained. It doesn''t stop the five other guards from lounging about in those seats, each clad in an identical set of armor and a glimmering rod tied to their hips.


    Huh. The guard leading us has that rod conspicuously absent.


    Strange.


    "Alright," the guard says. "We just need you guys to register with us. One sample of Firmament for tracking, and you can be on your way to wherever you''re headed."


    A sample of Firmament? I don''t like the idea of being tracked.


    "Andos," another guard calls. She ¡ª I think she''s a she, anyway ¡ª gets up from her seat and strides over, then folds her arms across her chest. She''s a little taller than the others, and now that I look more closely, her armor is different in subtle ways. There''s a symbol etched into the chestplate that''s only visible when the sun catches on it just right. "Did you clear them for entry?"


    "Almost done, Qura!" the guard that''s apparently named Andos replies cheerfully. "They''re just entertainers. A crow and his... whatever that is. His apprentice. What are you, anyway?"


    "Human," I say dryly. It''s not like they''ll be able to get anything from the word; it''s foreign to them.


    "Human!" Andos says cheerfully. "A crow and his human."


    "Please don''t refer to me like I''m a belonging."


    I don''t really care either way, in truth. I''m busy trying to think of a way to avoid this ¡ª I don''t really want to give away a piece of my Firmament for them to use, especially with the Interface so tied up with me. Rotar''s already told me that the Cities are interested in exploiting the Interface specifically; if they know that I''m the Trialgoer, I''m going to be a target. How do I avoid this?


    "How do you take a Firmament sample?" I ask, partly to distract them and partly to buy myself time. Andos walks over to a nearby crate and pulls it open, neatly ripping off the lid and a chunk of the crate with it. I wince at the sound of the wood cracking and splintering.


    "With this!" Andos says. He spins around and flourishes a small crystal at me. "All you have to do is imbue it with a piece of your Firmament. Simple! Give it a try."


    That actually is pretty simple, but that doesn''t mean I want to do it.


    Firmament Manipulation comes in handy here, along with just the lightest touch of Void; the Inspiration feels sleepy, for lack of a better word, but it doesn''t mind lending me its power to draw a little bit more Firmament out of the air and into my arm. Then, as I take the crystal from Andos, I flood it with that ambient, passive Firmament.


    The crystal turns green and I can almost swear it makes a ding.


    "There you go!" Andos retrieves the crystal from me, digs around in the crate for a fresh one, and then hands it to Tarin. I try to weave another piece of ambient Firmament frantically, but before I can do anything, Tarin takes it and floods it with his traditional black Firmament. It crackles with electricity.


    I wince. Hopefully that won''t come back and bite us.


    "Wooh, that''s a lot," Andos says, whistling. He takes Tarin''s crystal back, then walks off with both our crystals, grabbing a strange-looking... I mean, it looks like a gun, except it has prongs instead of a barrel. "Names?"


    "Tarin," Tarin says.


    "Ethan," I say. I wonder why he''s not trying to get a sample of Ahkelios'' Firmament. Does he assume he''s just my pet?


    ...Probably.


    Andos clicks the trigger of the gun, sending some Firmament into it at the same time; the prongs fill with energy, and a second later, both crystals are imprinted with our names.


    I can''t help but feel like this was almost too easy. Qura''s staring at me, and I get the strange sense that she''s frowning, but she doesn''t say anything further.


    "Well," Andos says. He hands us both a small medallion stamped with an image of... what looks like some type of bird. "Here are your passes to the Cities. They''ll let you pass through the gate. Let me know where you''re going to have a show sometime! I''d love to come watch."


    "We send message back to guards!" Tarin says, dragging me along with a wing. "Must see cities first. Then decide."


    "Sounds good!" Andos says cheerfully, and a fraction of a second later the sound of his voice is swallowed by the barrier of Firmament that envelops us. Ahkelios actually flickers within the density of it, though he isn''t forced to stay outside like I''d worried might happen.


    And then we''re through. The walls stretch behind us, protecting us from the monsters outside.


    Or, you know. Protecting them from us. More fun to think about it that way.

 73— Book 2, Chapter 10 — Isthanok, the City of Broken Glass

    The Great Cities, Tarin explains, are a set of seven cities situated inside the Barricade, which is apparently their name for the massive wall that encircles this section of the planet. The cities are numbered one through seven, though the numbering is unofficial ¡ª officially, the city we''re headed to is called Isthanok. The City of Broken Glass, they apparently call themselves.


    I can see why. As more and more of the city comes into view, I find myself squinting against the glare of the sun ¡ª Isthanok is practically a mirror of its name. Its architecture is a dizzying array of disconnected structures, some of which I''m certain are just floating in the air; while the material of each building is technically opaque, they''re reflective and built in such a way that they reflect the sky.


    In other words, the buildings all look like transparent shards of glass, hanging in the air.


    I have to give it to the architects of the city ¡ª they really know how to stick to a theme, even if that theme is painfully blinding at times.


    "Use Firmament!" Tarin caws at me, and I glance over at him. There''s a thin layer of protective Firmament packed over his eyes.


    "Right," I say. I follow suit with Firmament Manipulation, and immediately the glare of the city eases. This must be how anyone else is able to navigate in the city.


    There are no further walls or guards we have to pass through to enter Isthanok; apparently, as long as you''re past the Barricade, security between cities isn''t a concern. Considering what Rotar''s told me about how much they spy and steal from one another, I find this strange. Surely they''d bother to have a little more security?


    It doesn''t matter, I suppose. I''m content with being mostly ignored save for the strange looks that Isthanok''s residents occasionally toss at us. We make an odd trio, so I''m not surprised. For my part, I find myself fascinated ¡ª this is the first time I''ve been in a fully developed city on Hestia, and I''m not sure what to make of it. It''s almost enough to make me forget about my concerns.


    You know, almost.


    The residents of Isthanok ¡ª for the most part ¡ª wear sleek, light-gray outfits that catch on the light and shimmer with a pearlescent sheen. High collars outlined by dark-black fabric stand out against the otherwise pastel tones of the city, lending a sharper, formal note to the overall look. It makes me feel underdressed, and I make a face; Tarin, on the other hand, doesn''t seem to care.


    He''s leading me through the streets with purpose, so I assume he knows where he''s going. I turn my attention to further observation instead, trying to note down everything I might need to know in future loops.


    Most of the people that live here are of a singular species. I have to blink a few times  before I accept that their appearance isn''t an illusion ¡ª every member of their species looks to be made out of silver-gray smoke. That smoke fills out an otherwise humanoid shape, and they appear to express themselves with little screen-collars that display their emotions.


    The ones walking alone have those screen-collars turned off. The ones talking to one another have their screens flickering between a rapid array of different emotions, merchants calling for people to purchase their strange, bell-looking items have happy faces plastered onto their collars, in what I assume is an attempt to look friendly.


    "Silverwisps!" Tarin explains when I glance at him. "They build city."


    It makes sense. Isthanok reflects their apparent aesthetic. It''s beautiful in a one-note, one-color sort of way, as long as I''m standing still ¡ª but when I look around, light catches on the edges of buildings and clothing and on the crystalline plants that litter the streets, and the city bursts into iridescent color just on the edges of my vision.


    For all the ethereal beauty of the city itself, though, it sounds just like any other city I''ve been to. No cars or buses or obnoxiously loud engines, certainly, but the hustle and bustle is ever-present; the silverwisps'' voices are light and airy, but they fill the air, and the few non-silverwisp species here make up for the rest of the auditory spectrum.


    "Ethan!" Tarin calls, and I speed up my steps; I''ve seen so lost taking in the city that I''ve fallen behind.


    Ahkelios grips at my hair, insectoid hands grasping tight and almost hard enough to pull them out by the root. I wince and stop, and after a few more steps, so does Tarin, who''s frowning. "Ahkelios?" I ask. "You okay?"


    "I just..." the mantis takes a shivering breath, then holds it, even though he doesn''t need to breathe. I don''t say anything. "Give me a moment."


    "Sure," I say, glancing at Tarin. "You want a better seat?"


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    "Y-yeah." Ahkelios clambers off my head and onto my proffered hand, where he curls his knees up to his chest and stares at the city in a remarkably human gesture. "This place is beautiful. I never saw it when I was..."


    Alive, is the implied word there. A few nearby silverwisps stare at us and mutter amongst themselves, but I pay them no mind; they''re hardly the first to have stared since our entry to this city. We''re an unusual trio. I''m surprised no one has approached us yet.


    "Where are we headed, Tarin?" I ask, mostly to fill the silence while Ahkelios drinks in the sight. I probably should have asked earlier, anyway.


    "Old friend!" Tarin says, flapping his wings a little in emphasis. "Good friend! She help. She help last loop, too!"


    "How is she going to help?" I ask, stifling a chuckle. Tarin''s communication could use a little work.


    "She expert tracker." Tarin nods to himself, satisfied with his explanation. "We find Rotar."


    That''s a pretty good start, honestly.


    "I''d like to find out more about the Integrators, if there''s anything about them here," I say. Some of the silverwisps nearby still and glance at us, and I abort the rest of the sentence ¡ª I''m not going to talk about researching the Interface in public. Not when Rotar made it very clear that information about the Interface is at a premium here.


    Fortunately, they lose interest in us quickly enough, and Ahkelios clambers back up onto my head. "Thanks," he says quietly.


    I just nod. It''s the least I can do for him.


    The place Tarin drags us to is some kind of shop.  a more run-down section of Isthanok. Further to the north, past gleaming glass and pristine pillars, is a part of the city that isn''t quite so bright ¡ª I let the Firmament fade from my eyes, blinking away the strangeness of the sensation. It isn''t that this part of the city is completely abandoned ¡ª some of that ethereal beauty is still there. But there''s dust on the walls and cracks in the mirrored streets; whatever maintenance is done everywhere else, it''s not done here.


    Tarin ducks through a hole in the fence that acts as a boundary here, yelping as it catches on his feathers. I follow him through, and almost as soon as I step past the hole, I''m blasted with noise.


    There''s a thin barrier of Firmament layered around the fence that prevents sound from getting through, and I can guess why. The people here are far more lively. Silverwisps run around, dancing and playing with Firmament flames that bounce effortlessly between them; there are significantly more non-silverwisps here, too, either talking animatedly or sharing in brown-orange glop that I assume has to be a popular dish with how many people are ravenously consuming it.


    Here and there, small figures dart around. They''re not silverwisps, I don''t think, and I wouldn''t spot them if not for Quicken Mind and my Firmament sense ¡ª there are a few people using a stealthy-feeling kind of Firmament to move around, flickering into existence only briefly between steps. I observe them for a moment, tense, but they don''t seem particularly interested in me; I''m not sure what they''re doing, really.


    "This way!" Tarin calls, and I start after him again.


    He leads me to what looks like a once-floating shard of Isthanok that has crashed onto the ground ¡ª it''s a spire of rusted metal erupting from the ground in jagged shapes, roughly piled together into what I think forms a shelter, although it''s not exactly encouraging. There isn''t even a door, and yet Tarin ducks happily into one of the gaps between the shards.


    I follow behind him, albeit much more cautiously. The hole''s small enough that I have to be careful not to cut myself on the edges of the building. The interior is dark and musty; the dim light emitted by Ahkelios'' Firmament is the only thing that lights up the small tunnel ahead of me. Tarin''s a little further ahead, squeezing his way through and greeting someone enthusiastically.


    "Miktik!" Tarin says enthusiastically. I emerge from the tunnel in the debris a little after him to find what looks like a jury-rigged workshop, filled with rusty tools and Firmament-powered machinery. I''m not sure half of it even works, from the feeling I''m getting from them; it feels like their imbuements are badly damaged in some way. Loose threads of Firmament trail out from them, dissipating into the air.


    "Tarin?" a low, suspicious voice hisses, and I glance around for the source of the sound. It takes me a moment to see who''s talking, mostly because I''d dismissed her as a ball on the ground at first.


    Miktik ¡ª I assume that''s her name ¡ª looks... well, she looks like a giant pill bug. Which is still small, to be clear; she barely comes up to Tarin''s hips, and Tarin''s small for a crow as it is.


    Huh.


    This is the first species with a non-humanoid body plan that I''ve encountered, I think. I suppose I should have expected it.


    "Tarin!" Miktik says, suddenly sounding a lot more excited, and with a smooth ejection of Firmament she launches herself off the ground and onto her desk. "Hello! What brings you here? Are you visiting? Is Mari with you?"


    "Mari not with me," Tarin says, shaking his head. "She protecting village! I come for help. Crow go missing. You help find?"


    "Happy to!" Miktik says, and then she pauses. "Usual payment, yes?"


    "I not as good as Mari. I try?" Tarin offers. Miktik shrugs ¡ª that''s the best way I can describe the motion, because every chitinous segment of her body raises partially before settling back down again.


    "Good enough for me!" she says cheerfully. "And your friend there ¡ª who''s he?"


    "He Ethan!" Tarin says, and then before I can stop him, he leans in to whisper in an exaggerated, conspiratorial tone. "He Trialgoer."

 74— Book 2, Chapter 11 —Advanced Technology

    In retrospect, a quick discussion with Tarin about information security would probably have been a good idea, although I understand that he trusts Miktik implicitly. My understanding doesn''t stop me from putting a hand to my face, nor does it stop Ahkelios'' own incredulous groan.


    "Tarin," I say. "You can''t just tell people that."


    "Why not?" Tarin asks. "Miktik friend!"


    "He''s right though!" There''s entirely too much cheer in Miktik''s voice, for all that she''s agreeing with me ¡ª but I suspect that''s just how she is. "I''m happy you trust me! But you should be careful. The Great Cities have a lot of people listening." She pauses. "Less here, though! I paid a lot of chips. Got this place chock-full of privacy-enhancing Firmament."


    She wriggles so that her shell taps the wall, as if for emphasis. Now that she mentions it, I do feel a subtle current of Firmament circulating all throughout the building. It''s weaker than most imbuements I''ve seen, but it also does something I''ve never seen any other imbuement do. Any Firmament that comes into contact with it, as long as it''s weak enough, gets swept up into the current and added into it.


    "Bah!" Tarin grumbles, but he doesn''t have an argument for her, evidently. Instead, he changes the subject. "What you want me to fix?"


    "Ah! Yes!" Miktik suddenly looks excited. She scampers over to a nearby shelf and begins digging through a box, and I watch as she uses a mixture of limbs and Firmament to drag out an assortment of different items, muttering to herself as she does so. I notice a mirror, an orb of glass inscribed with strange symbols, a... I''m not describing that one, two mechanical boxes that whir and hum ominously with every movement, one of which begins to glow red before she sets it down...


    I take a surreptitious step away.


    "No idea what that one does!" Miktik laughs. "But I think it''s fun."


    "That''s a bomb, right?" Ahkelios whispers to me. "That''s very obviously a bomb."


    "I''ve never seen anything look more obviously like a bomb in my life," I deadpan. "All it needs is some wires and a timer and it would complete the look."


    "Oh, don''t be silly, it''s probably not a bomb," Miktik says, because I didn''t bother whispering and because if it is a bomb then I figure she needs to be warned about it. The ''probably'' in her sentence isn''t encouraging, though. "Uh... Hm. Actually, you might have a point! I''m going to put a sticker on that one."


    "How haven''t you blown yourself up yet?" Ahkelios asks, apparently deciding to just talk directly to Miktik. She spins around, her gaze zeroing in on Ahkelios and making him shift about uncomfortably on my head.


    "You''re alive!" she exclaims. "I thought you were decoration."


    "You what."


    "Some silverwisps use little pieces of animated Firmament as jewelry," Miktik says, turning back to her box and once more digging through it. I''m pretty sure the next item she removes is just a stick, but considering what the crows have been able to do with just sticks and stones, it''s a stick I decide to be suspicious of. "I thought you were that, you know? What''s your name?"


    "It''s Ahkelios," the mantis tries to reply ¡ª to no avail, because at that exact moment Miktik pulls out what looks like a small, metallic pyramid with a chitter of triumph. She slams it uncomfortably hard on her desk and then looks at us expectantly. Ahkelios sighs. "It''s Ahkelios," he says, repeating himself.


    "Pleasure to meet you, Ethan and Ahkelios!" Miktik does a little bow, still balanced on her desk ¡ª switching to customer service mode, if the tone of her voice is anything to go by. "I am Miktik, inventor, salvager, and tracker. If you find anything strange that you have no use for, bring it to me! I''m sure I can find some use for it."


    "I''ll be sure to do that," I say, thinking back to some of the shards I''ve found. I wonder what she''d make of them. "For now, you said you were going to help us find Rotar?"


    "Your crow friend, yes?" Miktik smiles. "I will! But I''ll do that after you help me fix this. Miktik always takes payment upfront."


    "Should be easy!" Tarin proclaims. He stalks up to the pyramid-thing she''s put on her desk, stares at it, and then pokes it awkwardly with a wing. "What this?"


    "It''s a regulator," Miktik explains. She points over at one of the broken machines in her workshop. "I need it so that thing doesn''t blow up when I turn it on."


    She hasn''t even finished her sentence by the time Tarin starts fiddling with it. I sigh ¡ª I really hope he knows what he''s doing. It sounds like it''s usually been Mari handling the imbuements for Miktik, and while I know a little bit of imbuement thanks to both Mari and Virin''s lessons, I probably still know less than Tarin himself does. I''ve only had access to Firmament for, what, a week?


    I need to be better at keeping track of time.


    "I hope Tarin knows what he''s doing," Ahkelios whispers to me, echoing my thoughts, and I stifle a small laugh. Instead, I head over to the furnace that Miktik claims is broken, and glance over it with my Firmament sense.


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    If Miktik finds what I''m doing strange, she doesn''t say anything about it. The imbuement on this thing is complex ¡ª and from what I can tell, it''s broken in a half dozen places. I can see a pyramid-shaped spot that''s presumably supposed to hold the regulator, but it doesn''t look like it''s meant to be part of the design. Presumably, whoever fixed this thing added in the regulator as a sort of stopgap measure.


    I can''t make heads or tails of it, though. I can feel the way Firmament enters the mechanism, and I can feel the way it twists and turns. I can tell that there''s a knot inside the machine that''s supposed to do something ¡ª Firmament enters it, even passively, and it emerges changed in some ephemeral way that I can''t describe. I try to peer deeper down into the layers of Firmament, to see what''s changing even if I can''t tell how it''s being changed¡ª


    "Ethan?" Tarin calls, and I straighten. Miktik is looking at me curiously, but I studiously ignore her gaze in favor of finding out what Tarin wants. "Need help," he says, almost begrudgingly. "I not sure where fix needed. Cannot sense."


    Tarin looks so put out by this that I almost laugh, though I manage to hold myself back. It''s mostly how annoyed he looks with himself for having to ask for help. I take a moment to scan through the pyramid-thing with my Firmament sense and whistle.


    It''s not nearly as complicated as the furnace-thing, fortunately¡ªit''s still within my abilities to understand. There are four knots of Firmament, one for each side of the pyramid, and a fifth, more complicated knot at the base; I can almost recognize this thing as having been imbued by Mari, considering I''ve seen her imbuements all over the crow village.


    One of the knots, however, has come partially undone. It''s not immediately obvious¡ªI have to wait for a moment to pass and watch as the regulator takes in some ambient Firmament. From three sides of the pyramid, the Firmament is passed on to the base and then filtered in some strange way I can''t describe; from the fourth side, about half the Firmament makes it through. The rest leaks out through gaps in the imbuement, subtle as it is.


    "This one," I say, pointing it out. "It just needs to be tightened a bit."


    Tarin brightens. "Oh!" he says. "Easy!"


    I feel a quick flash of Firmament ¡ª and just like that, he''s done. I try to get a feel for how he does it, given this part of imbuement has always given me trouble ¡ª the ''anchor'', as Virin calls it ¡ª but Tarin''s touch is so quick I barely have the time to blink before he''s done. Tightening a knot is probably easier than making one from scratch, but...


    I wouldn''t dare do it myself, I think. Pull on the wrong part of the thread and the whole knot unravels, and I wouldn''t be able to put it together again.


    "All done!" Tarin says.


    Miktik brightens, hopping down and poking at the regulator. "Great!" she cheers. "Let''s test it!"


    It only takes her a moment to stuff it into the furnace-thing ¡ª there''s a panel on the back that she can slot it into. I watch as she does it, and then take a step back when the machine whirs to life.


    It''s gathering Firmament. It''s gathering an immense amount of Firmament, even ¡ª I can see why the regulator is needed ¡ª but more than that, the way it''s gathering Firmament is reminiscent of...


    It''s reminiscent of the Void. And while there wasn''t any Void Firmament before, I can sense that it''s generating it, somehow, converting ambient Firmament into something adjacent to Void. Close enough that it can pull in more and more, and start powering the mechanism within.


    This is remarkably close to the technology that was used in the Voidsuits. The thing that was used to control K''hkeri. Ahkelios said he''s never run into the people that were sending those out. It''s not that I think Miktik is involved, necessarily ¡ª and even if she were, now would be a bad time to press her on it, since we still need her help to find Rotar ¡ª but this might be a chance to get a little closer to the source.


    "Seems to work!" Miktik says cheerfully, oblivious to what I''m sensing. I frown, a little worried that my next question will cause problems, but I feel compelled to ask it anyway.


    "Miktik," I say. "Is this Integrator technology?"


    Miktik freezes. Tarin looks startled. The workshop is briefly completely silent, save for the humming of machinery.


    "Well," Miktik says, trying to recover. "Miktik can guarantee that it is not not Integrator technology! But you''re a Trialgoer, so Miktik has to be careful. Because the Integrators might be watching you and all."


    Does she slip into third person when she''s nervous? I think she does. Tarin, for his part, covers his face with a wing


    "Miktik good friend," he says. "Bad liar."


    "You''re one to talk. You kind of immediately told her I''m a Trialgoer," I jab back. "But... Miktik, if you have Integrator contacts or a way to get access to their technology, it could help me a lot. I''m willing to help repair whatever you need."


    There. That should both put me closer to finding whoever''s behind the Voidsuits or, failing that, a way to get to Gheraa. Repairing things would be a good chance to really dive into learning about imbuement and enhancement, too.


    For her part, Miktik relaxes a little bit when I make my offer, then takes a moment to seriously consider it. She''s clearly still hesitant to speak; her antennae wave about above her head uncertainly.


    "Miktik doesn''t have an Integrator contact," she says after a moment. "Miktik does have access to a scrapyard that is used by Integrators. But the scrapyard''s pretty dangerous. I can hide pretty well, but I can''t hide other people."


    I can''t tell if she''s telling the truth ¡ª this is one area the Interface''s automatic translation doesn''t exactly help me in. She gives me a significant glance. "Let''s focus on one problem at a time," she says. "We''ll find your friend first, and then we''ll worry about the scrapyard and your payment for information on it. Sound good?"


    "Yes!" Tarin says firmly, before I can say anything. I glare at him. I mean, I was about to say the same thing anyway, but it''s the principle of the matter.


    On my head, Ahkelios gives a tiny cheer.


    Miktik pulls out what looks like... a slightly different version of Rotar''s pocket oracle. It still looks a little like a compass, but where Rotar''s is a flat disc, Miktik''s version is a full-on glass orb ¡ª or it''s made out of some sort of clear stone, anyway. It doesn''t look entirely like glass.


    "Alright," she says. "Let''s get started."

 75— Book 2, Chapter 12 —Fortune Telling

    It''s hard to describe exactly what Miktik does.


    She feeds her Firmament into the orb ¡ª that part I can read easily enough with my Firmament sense ¡ª but imbued within the orb is a blob of Firmament that looks nothing like any imbuement I''ve seen so far. It looks almost like a spiderweb. Small strings of Firmament reach out and connect to one another and to the edges of the orb.


    Miktik''s will acts as something like a filter. The orb itself passively pulls on all the ambient Firmament around it, dragging it into all the different strings within. I can sense Miktik plucking away at those strings, somehow manipulating them so that different types of Firmament get sorted into different strands.


    She''s extracting information out of the Firmament around us.


    "Don''t you have privacy wards all over this place?" I ask. "That filters out a lot of the Firmament getting in and out, right? It''s gotta be harder to use if you do that."


    "Shh," Tarin scolds me, but Miktik actually looks up.


    "That''s why I''ve been having trouble with divination lately!" she says. She doesn''t exactly snap her fingers, but she does something that''s a rough equivalent, rubbing two of her legs together and producing a spark of Firmament. "I didn''t even consider that! You''re right; we should do this outside."


    She scampers off her table, grumbling all the while. "I''m gonna have to make the contractors come back and redo the ward. You''d think professionals would warn about something like that. Would it be so hard to make it a one-way privacy imbuement?"


    "We''ll catch up with you!" I call after her. Miktik''s voice fades away as she makes her way through the tunnels of her own home. I look at Tarin with a raised eyebrow, and he concedes with a grumbling sort of huff.


    "You know," I say. "While we''re here and Miktik isn''t around ¡ª next time we loop, how should we meet up? I don''t think you and Mari should be risking life and limb to rescue me from chimeras every loop."


    A little bit of scouting will let me evade most of the chimeras, I think, but the best method so far seems to be to just fly over them all ¡ª and flight is unfortunately not on my list of Interface-granted skills yet. Maybe the next time I bank my credits.


    Then again... maybe if I use Crystallized Strength and Warpstep to get enough Air, and then use a few Barriers to keep myself moving?


    "Easiest if we meet in village," Tarin says. "You fight chimeras! It make you stronger."


    "I''ll fight one or two, but I don''t think I can fight the entire forest," I say dryly. He''s not wrong, and if I just charge into the next fight without preparation I''m liable to get myself killed ¡ª but I can''t just spend a few loops doing nothing but fighting chimeras, either.


    I mean, I can. It doesn''t sound like a good idea. There''s too much I need to be doing that would also function as training regardless.


    "I think I can find a way to get to you," I say eventually. "I''d rather you don''t have to come out to look for me. Can you stay in the village until I find you?"


    "I sleep." Tarin nods. I laugh; he does spend the start of every loop sleeping.


    "Just don''t tell Mari about the loop," I add. "We can prank her. Make her think it''s weird that we know so much."


    The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. Tarin looks, conversely, awed by the idea ¡ª though there''s a flicker of something in his eyes that makes me wonder if he knows what I''m trying to do. What Mari and I are both trying to do, really.


    He seems willing to go along with it. "Okay!" he says. "I wait. You come soon. I not wait long. If you take too long I go Great Cities myself."


    "Works for me," I chuckle. "Mind going to check on Miktik? I want to talk to Ahkelios for a bit."


    This is probably the greatest opportunity for me to talk to Ahkelios about his experiences with the Integrators. Even if the privacy Firmament around this workshop is relatively weak, it''s better than the nothing we usually have.


    Ahkelios remains silent until Tarin squeezes his way out through the tunnels, then hops up onto the desk in front of me. "What''s on your mind?" he asks.


    "We know other people have looped here," I say. "But... I think that''s what the number behind the planet''s name is. Hestia 307B ¡ª I''m the three-hundred-and-seventh looper. There have been three hundred other Trials on this planet. The entire planet''s been temporally locked for however long it took the Integrators to run three hundred and six Trials."


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    Ahkelios doesn''t respond, but his Firmament does flicker slightly in distress. Three hundred is a bigger number than either of us were expecting, I think.


    "How do you know?" he asks.


    "Back when I spoke to the Heart," I say. "Or when the Heart spoke to me, I guess. It said it''s been through this whole thing a little more than three hundred times. The numbers feel too close to be a coincidence."


    Ahkelios closes his eyes. I don''t know what''s running through his head. It''s a long moment before he speaks again. "Then they''re all probably gone, aren''t they?" he says softly.


    It takes me a moment to grasp what he''s saying. "...Probably," I say.


    I don''t know what''s happened to his planet. But depending on how long the Trials run, it''s very possible that everyone he''s ever known is already dead. The Integrators never specified how long we have to complete the Trials ¡ª probably because they don''t care how long it takes, as long as we eventually get to the Heart ¡ª and if that''s the case, then who knows how many decades have passed since Ahkelios'' Trial?


    Centuries, even.


    Naru said the Hotspot I explored was used in the fifty-seventh Trial, and Ahkelios has memories of that Trial. Accordingly, he''s probably the fifty-seventh Trialgoer, which means there have been almost two hundred and fifty Trials since him. If every Trialgoer lasts for a month, that''s still twenty Earth years. If every Trialgoer lasts for a year, then it''s been more than two centuries since he was last alive. "Do you know how long you were in your Trial?" I ask gently.


    It''s not an easy question for him, I sense. Ahkelios winces a little bit, rubbing his head, and I feel the draw on my Firmament increase as he tries to recall. "...Years, I think. I don''t know more than that."


    His voice is quiet and subdued ¡ª far from his usual cheer. I hold out a hand for Ahkelios to climb into, not knowing what else to say, and he climbs up on it gratefully.


    "You should tell me about them sometime," I say. "The people you left behind."


    Maybe it''ll help in some small way. Ahkelios hesitates before he answers. "I will," he says. "But... not yet. I don''t think I''m ready yet."


    Because talking about them will feel final, in some way. He doesn''t need to say the words out loud for me to understand; I''m familiar enough with grief. It''s hard to grieve properly when you don''t even know for sure, and everything about Ahkelios'' situation is uncertain.


    We don''t even know if his people ultimately succeeded in the Trials.


    "Let''s go see what Tarin and Miktik are up to," Ahkelios says, nodding back towards the tunnel-entrance. I nod in silent agreement.


    <hr>


    Miktik isn''t very far outside. There''s a small clearing by her workshop full of assorted junk and gadgets, heaped up in disorganized piles, and she''s sitting at the center of them while performing the same Firmament-sorting I saw before. The only difference is that she''s actually doing it slower.


    Which makes sense, I suppose. If the Firmament out here is more information-dense, I imagine it''s harder to sort through, but also a lot more useful.


    "How long does she usually take?" I ask Tarin. The old crow is standing by the side, digging through one of the piles of junk.


    "Not long," Tarin says. "She fast. Unless Rotar hard to find. Then maybe take longer."


    "Doesn''t look like she''s anywhere close to done," I mutter. The strings of Firmament within the orb are only multiplying, like her search query is getting more and more complex. "She hasn''t met Rotar before, right? How does she know how to find him? Is the name enough?"


    "Name enough," Tarin says with a nod. "Too many things make harder. More variables. You no worry! She will find."


    My concerns are less about her capabilities and more about what the Heart said. Temporally dislocated. It''s possible that they''re just not possible to find yet.


    "These are some really strange results!" Miktik says. I blink. Is she done already? "Come take a look!"


    Tarin and I both approach her, and she holds out the orb and channels Firmament into it. A half-dozen strings of Firmament spin into light, forming tendrils that look disturbingly like worms reaching out of the glass. I''m not sure what I''m supposed to see, exactly¡ª


    ¡ªbut then Miktik does something strange, twisting the orb and injecting a different type of Firmament into it. The threads unfold and expand, and reconstruct themselves into a picture of...


    "Rotar!" Tarin says excitedly, hopping to the orb to take a closer look.


    I, on the other hand, am frowning ¡ª and Ahkelios is equally silent.


    The picture of Rotar that Miktik has generated is surprisingly high-resolution and in full color, but several things about it are strange. For one thing, Rotar and K''hkeri¡ªor Ikaara, I suppose, in this form¡ªare both transparent, like they aren''t fully there. For another...


    I recognize the stone buildings, the dangerous-looking stairs. That''s the Fracture.


    "What''re they doing in the Fracture?" I ask, frowning.


    "Why he invisible!" Tarin flaps his wings agitatedly.


    "Most importantly," Miktik says. "This is live."


    Ah. That makes things worse. Because both Rotar and Ikaara are standing completely still, frozen mid-step.


    Temporally displaced. I turn the words over in my head a few times. They look a little like they''re stuck in time, shifted slightly out of alignment.


    "They''re moving," Ahkelios says. "Just really slowly."


    I blink. He''s right. It''s almost unnoticeable, but they are moving just a little bit, with Ikaara moving just a little faster than Rotar.


    They were mid-slipstream when the temporal storm happened. My best guess is that they''re shifted in space and in time, a half-step out from the rest of reality.


    "The hell''re we supposed to do about this?" I mutter.

 76— Book 2, Chapter 13 —The Bonds We Build

    We learn a few things over the next couple of minutes.


    One, Rotar and Ikaara are both safe ¡ª or at least as safe as they can be. Being half a step out of phase with everything else comes with downsides, obviously, but it also comes with the upside of nothing being able to interact with them. We first notice this when we realize that their feet aren''t quite touching the ground, and it becomes more obvious when a stray dust breeze blows a cloud of dirt right through them.


    No telling how they''d interact with Firmament, but given the Fracture explodes with Firmament every once in a while and neither of them seem to be dead, they''re probably not in that much danger.


    Temporal Fragment might be able to pull them back into phase, and Ikaara should be able to get them out of the slipstream after that. That''s the first step of the plan, anyway. If it doesn''t work, we''ll have to rethink our approach.


    Even getting there is easier said than done, though. The Fracture is far from here, and unless we go around or above, we''ll be going through all the chimeras to get there. Tarin can dodge them all with his speed. Me? I''m not quite there yet.


    So we''re talking through our options, and Miktik''s telling us a little more about her talent as a tracker.


    "I can use it to find anything!" she says cheerfully. "It makes me pretty useful."


    "It does, doesn''t it?"


    The voice is new. It''s a gentle voice, almost musical in the way it sounds, but something about it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand. I try not to show how startled I am and slowly turn to greet the newcomer.


    Tarin, on the other hand, has no such compunctions. He lets out a startled squawk. "Who you!" he says, pointing an accusatory wing at the silverwisp standing behind us.


    Almost as soon as he does, a bolt of Firmament flickers out from that silverwisp. It''s small but it''s dense, and moving fast enough that I''m not sure Tarin would have reacted to it in time even if he had the same ability to sense Firmament as I did. It''s a warning shot ¡ª the Firmament strikes one of Tarin''s feathers dead-center and blows it clean off, but does no more damage than that. Unless you count the hole it drills deep into the dirt, anyway.


    Tarin squawks hops backwards, staring indignantly at his wing. It''s telling, though, that instead of saying anything else he just stares cautiously.


    "I am She-Who-Whispers," the silverwisp says. She doesn''t wear the collar that a lot of the other silverwisps use to express themselves; instead, she wears a pendant beautifully embellished with tiny pearls of Firmament, each one swirling with a different set of colors. On the face of the pendant is a small, delicate smile that''s perfectly matched with her voice, and so far removed from the threat of her attack that I immediately distrust it.


    Also, those pearls on her pendant. I note with no small amount of concern that all of it feels like Firmament belonging to a person. Multiple people. Ambient, aspected Firmament feels distinct from the unique Firmament that belongs to a person ¡ª It''s not something I''ve thought about until now


    "Ah!" Miktik scurries forward, sweeping herself into a low bow. For her, this mostly looks like bending even closer to the ground, with her antennae also bending with the application of some Firmament. I don''t fail to notice how nervous she looks. "Welcome! What brings you to Miktik''s store? You normally wait for my visits!"


    "Yes, well, I couldn''t help but feel something interesting happening over here," She-Who-Whispers says. She glides forward, peering with interest at the discarded oracle orb that Miktik''s left on the ground behind her. A flick of her finger, and the orb levitates into the air, curled in a vice grip of Firmament. She peers at it curiously. "The Fracture, hm? Very few people know to call it that."


    Shit.


    I haven''t mentioned the Trial outside of Miktik''s privacy-imbued walls, but now that I think about it, plenty of people should be talking about the Trial. They know their planet is going to be used to host one. The words that the city''s spies are going to be on the lookout for are words only a Trialgoer might use.


    Like Fracture, in the context of a landmark. I should have known those were Interface names ¡ª Cliffside Crows is very clearly not the name of Tarin''s village. Even then, though, I didn''t consider that they might be on the lookout for Interface-only names. They''d need to either be backed by a Trialgoer or be a Trialgoer to even be aware of those names.


    I look at She-Who-Whispers again and feel myself tensing up even more. There are only a few things she could be, and the pendant of Firmament around her neck is making me lean towards her being one of Hestia''s Trialgoers.


    "You are being very quiet," She-Who-Whispers notes. She turns back to smile at me. "I''m just curious where you heard the name, is all."


    "It just looks like that," I say. I''m aware the excuse is terrible. Quicken Mind doesn''t give me enough time to find a reasonable excuse. What am I supposed to say, that I heard someone else say it on the street? "Like a fracture in the earth."


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    She-Who-Whispers says nothing. She examines Miktik''s pocket oracle for a moment more, and then I sense the pressure from her Firmament abruptly increase. A crack appears in the glass.


    Miktik whimpers, twitching forward like it''s all she can do not to run forward and wrest her oracle from the silverwisp''s grip. Honestly, I''m barely holding back from doing the same. She''s showing off ¡ª this is a threat, implied in everything from her calm demeanor to the casual way in which she destroys one of Miktik''s prized possessions.


    But she''s also way, way out of my league, and considering what Naru has said these Integrator-aligned Trialgoers can do, I don''t think I want to provoke her. I doubt she''ll be as easy to trick into killing me as Naru was. Even if I need to die...


    ...No, she''s fast enough to stop me. Inspect tells me that with eerie certainty.


    "Miktik, dear," the silverwisp says. "You haven''t been by for your usual visit in a while. Nothing new to show me?"


    "Not yet!" Miktik says. I''m surprised by how composed her voice is, because her actual body is shaking like a leaf. Her saleswoman voice is back, though. "Miktik ran into some hiccups with the fabricator. Just got it fixed, actually! Miktik was going to come in tomorrow."


    "I see." She-Who-Whispers hums. She turns around finally, letting the cracked oracle fall from her grip, and I notice Miktik visibly holding herself back from darting forward and grabbing it. "Are these two gentlemen responsible for fixing the fabricator?"


    Miktik hesitates, which surprises me. She doesn''t want either of us to be implicated even more.


    "We are," I say, cutting in before Miktik can answer and taking the pressure of the silverwisp''s attention off of Miktik. "Is there something we can help you with?"


    "I was simply curious." She-Who-Whispers steps forwards towards us, and I force myself to stay very, very still. Premonition isn''t firing, but every other instinct is telling me to run. The fear has crept up on me, but it''s now so abject and unnatural that I automatically reach out, trying to understand.


    It takes me a moment. My Firmament sense is overwhelmed to the point of being nearly useless. But I manage to recognize faint traces of her Firmament wrapping around Miktik, Tarin and me.


    Intentional. She''s testing us.


    "I realize I may have been a little rude earlier," I say, plastering a fake smile onto my face. "We should have introduced ourselves. My name is Ethan, and this is Tarin; we''re new to Isthanok. It''s beautiful."


    "It is, isn''t it?" She-Who-Whispers agrees. She seems a little surprised by my recovery, and I feel her testing the limits a little ¡ª increasing the pressure of her Firmament on me, just to see if I react. "I''m glad you''ve enjoyed my city. I take it you came here to engage Miktik''s services in finding your friend?"


    "We did," I say. My city. She governs Isthanok, then. "She''s been very helpful."


    "The Fracture is a rather dangerous place for your friend to be in," She-Who-Whispers says. "Allow me to build upon Miktik''s hospitality, and lend you one of my soldiers to help retrieve that friend of yours. Miktik will be coming to my palace tomorrow; the two of you will follow along, and I will grant you your soldier there."


    She''s... really making a lot of assumptions all at once. "Did you say palace?"


    "I did." There''s a tinge of amusement in her voice there. "It''s the largest Shard in the sky. I look forward to seeing you there. Don''t disappoint me, now."


    There''s an implied threat in those last four words. I feel the strength of her Firmament abruptly increase, even though her expression remains perfectly pleasant. The meaning is clear ¡ª disappointing her will have consequences.


    Not that she gives me a chance to reject the offer to begin with. She disappears moments after speaking, and if she does that through sheer speed, then it''s fast and stealthy enough that I neither feel the wind from her movement nor see her move, even with Quicken Mind. My best guess is that it''s some form of teleportation.


    Only once she leaves does the Firmament in the air lighten. It''s like being allowed to take a breath of fresh air. I take a deep breath, Tarin unfreezes from staring at his missing feather, and Miktik gradually calms herself down.


    "Rude!" Tarin declares.


    "Let''s go back inside," Miktik says. She pauses only to pick up her pocket oracle, tracing one of her legs over the cracked glance and wincing slightly.


    I let Tarin follow after her. It''s only then that I realize that Ahkelios has been gathering Firmament while standing on my head ¡ª gradually and subtly, but now there''s a mass of Firmament he''s holding on to that he''s slowly releasing. I blink, climbing back into Miktik''s workshop before I speak.


    "...Ahkelios, were you preparing to attack She-Who-Whispers?"


    "She did forget about me," the mantis says thoughtfully. "But no. Well, kind of. I was preparing to hit you really hard and force a reset if I needed to."


    I think about this for a moment. It''s a lot less disturbing than it probably should be. "Good call, actually."


    "Thank you." Ahkelios preens.


    ¡ª


    It takes a while for Miktik to settle down enough to talk to us about She-Who-Whispers.


    She is, in fact, one of Hestia''s Trialgoers. She''s also a regular and involuntary client of Miktik''s, apparently, and also the contact that gets Miktik access to the Integrator scrapyard she mentioned. She almost never shows up in this part of Isthanok ¡ª it is, apparently, too much of an eyesore for her ¡ª so her presence today was both terrifying and deeply unexpected.


    "Involuntary client?" I ask.


    Miktik grimaces. "I am... one of the few people in the city that can produce the equipment she wants, and the only one she has leverage on. She''s the reason I got that privacy imbuement installed ¡ª you saw how she can listen to anything that happens across basically the entire city."


    I raise an eyebrow. Two important questions, there. "What exactly does she need from you?"


    "It varies." Miktikk clicks her mandibles together, agitated. "Usually it''s replacement parts for her pet project ¡ª she''s working on some kind of elite automaton, I think. I don''t know most of the details. She commissions the parts from me and I get them to her."


    Elite automaton. It can''t possibly be the same thing that attacked me in the Fracture, can it? "What about the leverage she has on you?"


    Miktik looks frustrated. "She has an AI core I made. I didn''t sell it to her, I sold it to an old friend of mine ¡ª but she either stole it or convinced him to sell it to her. I can''t let her keep it."


    "Why?" Tarin squawks. "Let her keep! You not let her use you. She evil. She hurt feather!"


    "Because the core is basically alive," Miktik says. "I didn''t realize it until after I sold it. It''s alive, and she''s just keeping it in a vault. I can''t... It doesn''t deserve that."


    Ah.


    As far as reasons go, I have to admit: That''s a pretty convincing one.

 77 — Book 2, Chapter 14 — Hostage Situation

    "So she''s holding it hostage," I say.


    Miktik''s apparently been checking the core''s position every day she can, and she finds it at the same place every day, trapped inside a vault. It''s part of the reason she was so devastated when She-Who-Whispers destroyed her pocket oracle ¡ª slim crack though the damage is, that crack is enough to render the whole thing inoperable for the next few days.


    It''s apparently not the first time she''s done it, either. There''s a deep bitterness in Miktik''s voice when she mentions that. I can''t imagine what it''s been like for her.


    "I think we not go meet her," Tarin says, though he doesn''t look entirely convinced by his own words. He heard the threat in her words as much as I did. "It trap."


    "I don''t think so," I say, and when both Tarin and Ahkelios stare at me in disbelief, I raise my hands defensively. "I mean, look, it''s obviously some kind of trap. But I don''t think she''s preparing an ambush for us in her palace or anything. More likely she just wants to have a spy come along with us so she can confirm her suspicions about me or whatever. If she wanted to attack us, she could''ve done it right then and there. Why give us this planning time?"


    "She likes playing power games," Miktik says, shifting uncomfortably from side to side. "It''s probably another one of her games. But... I do think she probably won''t attack you at her palace. It wouldn''t be good for her image, for one thing."


    "I can tell," I deadpan. I think through our options. The only alternative is just to avoid playing her games entirely ¡ª to leave and head for the Fracture, bypassing any games She-Who-Whispers wants to play with us. The only problem with that approach is that she''s fully capable of catching up with us if she wants to. "She''s not going to let us just ignore her invitation, is she?"


    "I''ve tried doing that. I''ve also tried just leaving Isthanok entirely. She always shows up anyway." Miktik grimaces. "Miktik hates to say it, but... It might be best to play along. She just makes things worse if you try to get out of it."


    Yep. I figured as much. But it''s not as bad as Miktik thinks ¡ª if we have to play her games anyway, then I''m the one that holds all the cards. It''s not like I''m limited to one try to figure her out. The only complication is that if Naru is any indication, the Hestian Trialgoers are all aware of the nature of the time loop.


    In other words: I can''t give her the chance to figure out what I''m doing.


    Naru''s implied they have the ability to leave themselves messages across loops, but I suspect that ability is a lot more limited than he implied, if he wasn''t outright lying. He''d still be chasing me down if it weren''t. All I need to do is figure out what that limitation is and work around it.


    That or free Gheraa. He can probably just give me all the answers I need.


    "The scrapyard," I say after a moment. "We still have time, right? Could you show us to the Integrator scrapyard?"


    Getting access to the Integrators isn''t going to be easy, but if there''s anywhere I can start, it''s going to be where they throw their trash. Rotar should be the priority, but She-Who-Whispers seems determined to complicate that, and while I could just reset the loop ¡ª very pretty words for what I''d actually be doing ¡ª I''m going to try not to do that for the time being. Just in case that messes with Rotar''s location.


    Miktik hesitates, her mandibles jittering strangely. "Like I said, the scrapyard''s dangerous," she says after a moment. "It takes some preparation. I can get you there, but I can''t get you there today. Plus I''ll need a custom-fitted suit for both of you."


    "A suit?" I blink.


    "You need a full-body protective suit if you''re going to survive in there, or the ambient Firmament will crush you," Miktik confirms. "It''s one of the reasons it''s so dangerous. It''d take me at least a week to get that ready for the both of you, and it''s not cheap, so..."


    Miktik looks at me expectantly, and I sigh. Can''t expect everyone to just help the up-and-coming Trialgoer out of the goodness of their hearts, I suppose. Maybe I''ll just explore Isthanok a little more and see if there are any shortcuts I can take advantage of the loops for.


    "That mean we can only do one thing," Tarin says, nodding to himself. "It time for training."


    "Tarin, I''m not sure now is the best time for training," I say, holding back a strangled laugh.


    "It always best time for training," Tarin says, and then levies a surprisingly intense stare at me. "You have anything else to do? Or we just waiting for silver lady?"


    ...he does have a point.


    Tarin leads me out of Miktik''s workshop and back into the city proper, after borrowing a bunch of chips from her. How he convinced her to lend him a small pile of money is something I still haven''t figured out; all I know is that she was adamantly refusing one moment, and shoving piles of it into Tarin''s wings the next.


    He looks incredibly smug about it, too.


    "Do I want to know what you whispered to her?" I ask.


    "I promise she get back more!" Tarin says cheerfully. "We going to put bets on you during training. You make money. Good for us all, yes?"


    That''s... actually perfect, as far as taking advantage of the loops go. Not the part where I participate in them, of course, but as long as I get the chance to evaluate the contestants, we could be set for future loops.


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    "...wait. What kind of training has an entire betting ring set up around it?"


    "Isthanokian training!" Tarin says cheerfully. "It sparring!"


    I don''t know what I expected.


    I turn my eyes towards the building we''re approaching. Like everything else in Isthanok, it''s shaped like shards of broken glass ¡ª except this building is set up like multiple shards crashing into the ground, creating a crater lined with a mirror polish. The flat ground in the center stands out amidst the silver shine; it looks like gravel and concrete, and there are scratches and scuffs marked into the dirt from what I assume are previous battles.


    Also a frightening number of burn marks.


    "Tarin, this looks like a gladiator arena, not a sparring ring."


    "Yes," Tarin agrees. "You fight here. Make money."


    I mean. He''s not wrong. I was just expecting something more formal than a gladiator ring.


    Despite my misgivings, I feel a faint stirring of excitement well up within me. This is an opportunity to fight. I missed out on it when we had to run away from the chimeras, and I haven''t had much opportunity to build upon my credits lately. Durability is tantalizingly close to five hundred, and if I just pretend to be losing and let my opponents beat me up...


    "Hey, Tarin," I say. "Think you could get us some last-minute bets if I pretend I''m losing a bit?"


    Tarin gives me a grin that''s almost frightening. "Yes," he says. The gleam in his eyes is almost sharp enough to cut me.


    I start to ask if he''s done this before, then think the better of it and decide I would prefer not to know the answer.


    <hr>


    My first opponent is a construct.


    I can''t exactly say what the differences are, but it''s very different from both the automaton and the stone guardians that I encountered within the Fracture. It has properties of both ¡ª it''s made of stone, but it''s put together the way an automaton would be. Painstakingly carved, piecemeal gears stuck together with Firmament, limbs glowing with some sort of imbued effect...


    Well, I should say my first two opponents, really. My actual opponent is what I can best describe as an angry-looking goblin that''s holding a remote control. There''s a bunch of shadowy Firmament swirling skin-tight around him, so much so I can make out his features etched out in Firmament alone.


    I think I''m not supposed to be able see him. The Firmament feels similar to some of the stealthier people I felt around the more run-down parts of Isthanok, except they were much, much more practiced with it than this guy. Their Fimament was calm enough that it hid them almost perfectly, and I only sensed it when it was moving.


    This guy, though? He''s agitated. He''s piloting a remote-controlled construct and constantly fidgeting with Firmament to get it to work. Even if he was an expert in stealthy Firmament, he couldn''t be more glaringly obvious to my Firmament sense.


    I have to hide a laugh. I square up against the construct, giving no indication that I notice him or what he''s doing.


    "Begin!"


    A bell strikes. I don''t use any Firmament to start with ¡ª not beyond the basic passives of Quicken Mind and Tough Body. I just start sprinting at the rock-hard death trap like I''m expecting to be able to punch it to death.


    Predictably, this stirs up a laugh in the audience. I just grin.


    The first strike knocks me back hard enough that I flip end-over-end in the dirt twice. "Huh," I say. I can''t resist the quip. "And here I thought that only happened in movies."


    Tough Body does a lot to protect me, but it doesn''t completely dull the blow. I hurt. Especially since as much as it prevents me from taking physical damage, it does very little to adjust my pain response to compensate.


    All it really does is make me feel more alive.


    I wipe blood off of my lip and charge in once more.


    <hr>


    "Crazy human."


    Tarin stared out at the arena, where Ethan was getting knocked back by the construct for the fifth time and standing up again. Even the crowd had fallen silent, with just the occasional laugh or boo or cheer emerging from one or two people. For the most part, though? It was like the entire audience was holding its breath.


    The first time he''d gotten knocked back, the crowd had laughed. The second time they''d laughed again, though the laugh was a little more uncertain. The third time was met with confused muttering. The fourth time was met with more.


    The fifth time, and the crowd was silent. Tarin knew this meant the crowd was about to turn, which meant this was his best time to make bets ¡ª but Ethan was making it very hard to look away from the show.


    He hoped the human knew what he was doing, he really did. More often than not. Tarin felt like he was just winging it. He''d felt that way ever since he''d fallen into the Fracture and learned ¡ª at least in part ¡ª the truth about the Integrators. The memories he''d gained from that time were still fragmented, but they''d been enough to dispel the illusion of benevolence the Integrators built around themselves.


    Now all he could do was guide Ethan, and hope he learned to use his power better than Naru did. Fighting against the Trialgoers was a waste of time, but this? It felt like the Crowmother had presented him with the perfect opportunity to make things right. To make up for all the ways he''d failed Naru.


    Though Ethan had a long way to go yet, to reach the heights he needed to reach. His achievements looked impressive only if you didn''t already know how far some people had been able to get with Firmament. Even She-Who-Whispers, that upstart... She didn''t compare to what he''d seen in the Fracture.


    Now that he thought about it, Mari had always distrusted the Integrators. She had a better instinct for that kind of thing than he did. He thought it might have been better if it had been Mari that was thrust into the time loop with Ethan, rather than himself, but... it was exciting to be participating in the Trial like this.


    He just wished he could share it with Mari, really. He was looking forward to telling her all about it, though! He could imagine her reactions already.


    Anyway, he was getting side tracked. He needed to place bets.


    "That new guy weird, right?" Tarin said, elbowing the audience member next to him. It was an old, gruff-looking silverwisp that was dressed in fineries so elegant it made Tarin feel like he was underdressed.


    "Tell me about it," the silverwisp snorted. "I look forward to seeing him lose."


    "Oh?" Tarin''s smile was predatory, though the silverwisp wouldn''t know it. "You want bet? I bet chips new guy win. Many chips."


    "Are you kidding?" the silverwisp asked, and then realizing Tarin wasn''t, laughed. "Fine, whatever. Easy profit for me."


    "Are you betting on the new guy?" someone in front shouted. "Hell, I''ll take that bet! I bet he lasts two more hits!"


    A third joined in, and then a fourth. Tarin squawked with delight.


    At least in this, he knew what he was doing.

 78 — Book 2, Chapter 15 — One, Two, Three, Go

    The fight ends quickly and without fanfare. The crowd, I can tell, is disappointed. Me, I''m just grinning like a madman. I made sure to make my victory look like an accident, too, so Tarin should still be able to bet against me in the next match. I wonder how many people he can convince to go double-or-nothing?


    It''s almost funny how easy it was, too. All I needed to do was maneuver myself into the right position, and then use Accelerate when the golem hit me, letting myself get flung just a little bit farther and a little bit faster than I should have. It sends my body crashing straight into the goblin controlling the construct, apparently with enough force to knock him unconscious.


    He''s carried away in a stretcher. I''m briefly worried about him, but that worry evaporates when he finds the strength to get up in the stretcher and make a rude gesture at me with both hands. I guess some things transcend cultures.


    That, or the Interface just interpreted his hand gestures for me.


    Either way, it doesn''t matter. The pain makes it easy to hide how gleeful I''m actually feeling, and I wait in the arena for my next opponent to show up. It doesn''t take long, only this time I find my confidence kind of shaken.


    Not because I don''t think I can win, mind you. Just because my opponent is a tiny lizardman ¡ª a kobold, I suppose, would be the closest analogy ¡ª and I cannot for the life of me imagine myself punching him in the face.


    "Begin!"


    The bell rings. Instead of moving, the kobold speaks.


    "I am Deathclaw Bloodseeker," the kobold intones in a voice that''s far too deep for his tiny stature. "You will die by my hand."


    I blink. "You''re not under duress or anything, are you?" I ask. "Just checking. Due diligence and all that."


    "Deathclaw Bloodseeker would never capitulate to the demands of others," the kobold says dramatically. I nod a few times.


    "Right, right," I say. "I hope that''s not actually your name."


    Then I punch him in the snout.


    I know, I know. I said I''d have problems punching him in the face. That was before he called himself Deathclaw Bloodseeker. I do have to give it to him ¡ª he has a thick skull. DB, because I am not calling him Deathclaw Bloodseeker again, staggers back with a cry. "Coward!" he cries out. "To arms!"


    Then he pulls a spear out of nowhere and charges at me. It''s the sudden spike of Firmament before he pulls it out that gives me warning, because when he moves, he moves fast.


    Though given Premonition, Quicken Mind, and the fact that I''ve fought Tarin before, it''s probably no surprise that his speed is still well within the range of speeds I can work with. I sidestep the hit, because Tough Body or not, I don''t feel like dealing with being stabbed by a spear. I make sure to stumble when I sidestep, so it looks more like a fearful step away than like an intentional dodge.


    Now to figure out how to make this victory look like an accident.


    The spar itself has a few basic rules, one of which is easier to exploit than the others ¡ª you lose if you go outside the circle marked in the arena. I''ve been careful to stay away from that line so far, but now I intentionally lead the kobold towards it. I let the spear nick me once or twice, enough to make it look like I''m losing and struggling to hold on; the right cuts in the right places can be largely superficial and still bleed very, very heavily, a fact about human anatomy that I''m privy to that the audience is not.


    Though forehead cuts are still annoying, because the blood gets into your eyes.


    "Hah!" DB cries, having decided he''s won. "Surrender now before your blood takes you!"


    I wonder how much of his actions are a show. He can''t be entirely sincere, right? But an arena like this is as much a sport of entertainment as anything else; a huge part of it has to be cultivating a persona that lets the audience know to cheer for you. I haven''t bothered, because I don''t think I''ll stay in this loop long enough for it to make a difference, but maybe in a future loop...


    "Not surrendering?" the kobold asks, and then launches himself at me before I can respond. "En guarde!"


    I bite back a snide reply about not having a sword, wonder what exactly caused the Interface to translate quite like that, and then intentionally stumble into DB''s strike. A Barrier to let it glance off my ribs without piercing me, although I make it malleable enough to still smart; I roll with the momentum, pretending to desperately grab on to his clothing and sending us both tumbling...


    ...with him just a little bit outside the arena line.


    I''m not exactly practiced with this, but Quicken Mind allows for a remarkable amount of quick thinking, even while tumbling around on the ground.


    The kobold gets up. For a moment, he looks like he''s about to jump right back into battle ¡ª until his eyes land on the line that he''s crossed, and his face abruptly falls. "Aw dang," he mutters. And then much softer than his usual voice, he whispers: "Good fight anyway! My real name''s Thys. Are you new here? I don''t think I''ve seen you fight before."


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    "Pretty new," I admit, trying to conceal how surprised I am by the sudden personality shift. Now I feel kind of bad for punching him. "Good fight. Do you always put on a persona like that?"


    "You gotta," Thys says, and then he raises an eyebrow at me. "You were doing it too! No way you''re as bad as you pretended, and you still won. Listen, this is kind of a bad place to talk about this kind of thing. Meet me in the back if you wanna, okay? Good luck with your next fight!"


    Thys hops out of the arena before I can respond, and a horn sounds, signalling for me to get ready for the next fight. The kobold''s enthusiasm is infectious, though ¡ª I can''t help but grin a little, bouncing on my feet to prepare for the next opponent. From inside my shirt where he''s hiding, Ahkelios whispers to me. "I like that guy."


    "I do too," I admit, and then I focus up on the new opponent emerging from the other side of the arena. "Alright, let''s get ready for the next one."


    <hr>


    All in all, I fight five opponents before they decide to pull me out of the arena to "reexamine my position in the rankings", which I take to mean that they''ve decided I''m costing them too much money. That, or they''ve received too many complaints about me. I''m not sure either way, but I do spot Tarin in the crowd giving me a thumbs up and several other people giving him a dirty look, so I''m not too worried about it.


    The only real problem is that this hasn''t been that good for training. I''m sure I''ve racked up a decent number of Durability credits ¡ª I did let myself get hit far, far more often than I would have in a real fight ¡ª but none of my opponents were particularly challenging outside of the constraints I put on myself for the battle. That usually means the credit reward is reduced.


    Still, it''s much better than sitting around doing nothing, and I won''t know how much I''ve earned until I die. Or actually kill someone, but I''m not willing to do that just to bank my points.


    Maybe if I get an opportunity with She-Who-Whispers.


    "Ethan!" Tarin crows at me ¡ª yes, that''s the most appropriate verb to describe how he approaches me. He wraps me in a winged hug before I even get a chance to reply. His eyes are practically gleaming with profit. "We earn so much money. So much."


    "Whoa, whoa," I laugh, although I hug him back. "You sure you want to look associated with me? Everyone''s going to think you cheated them."


    "Bah! They already think I cheat them," Tarin says dismissively. "They not want bet anymore. Good thing fight stop there. We enough money now, I think."


    "And do you have any insights for me in terms of training?" I ask, my tone amused. I''m not even sure if he was watching me fight. I get the impression he spent most of his time watching the faces of the people that bet against me slowly fall into denial and then outrage.


    "No! Your opponents too weak." Tarin pokes me with a wing. "We come back after we save Rotar. You fight stronger opponents. Then I teach!"


    I''m not convinced Tarin isn''t just going to make more bets, considering how excited he seems about the idea, but going along with it isn''t going to hurt anything. We''re going to need the chips to make more of an impact in Isthanok, anyway. She-Who-Whispers has considerable power and influence, and in the absence of being able to punch hard enough physically, we can always try doing it financially.


    Or something. More resources are better, is my point.


    I catch a glimpse of Thys in the corner, peeking at us curiously, and I wave Tarin off. "I''ll see you back at Miktik''s," I tell him. "I want to go talk to someone."


    Tarin eyes me suspiciously. "You not tell your secrets!"


    "You''re one to talk," I say, raising an eyebrow at him. Tarin gives me an offended caw and wanders off; I shake my head, smiling, then wave Thys over.


    "That a friend of yours?" the kobold asks. He does a strange little wave at me, crossing his fingers in a way not unlike the human gesture for luck. "He''s pretty strong, I bet! You think he could teach me too?"


    "You heard that part, huh?" I laugh. "He''d probably be willing if you bribed me enough. Should I have asked him to stay?"


    "No," Thys decides after a moment. "I can always meet him later! But if you''re gonna fight here, you gotta know the rules. Otherwise they might send people after you." Thys looks at me contemplatively. "...Although I''m not sure you''d be in danger if they did?"


    I shrug as noncommittally as I can. "I wouldn''t know," I reply as honestly as I can. "Can''t know before I fight them, can I?"


    "That tells me you don''t live here," Thys says, grinning. "I''ll keep your secret, don''t worry."


    <hr>


    We talk for a while. It''s been a while since I''ve talked to someone other than Ahkelios just casually ¡ª and it''s been even longer since I''ve had a conversation about anything other than the Trial in some way, shape, or form. My focus has been on improving fast enough to make a difference for so long that I''ve almost forgotten what it''s like to have a normal conversation.


    Well, about as normal a conversation as talking to a kobold about a blood sport can be, anyway. I had sort of expected the conversation to be about ways to exploit the arena, but I find I''m fine with the way this conversation is going, too. It''s been a little too long, perhaps, since I''ve had just a friendly conversation without heavy stakes hanging over my head.


    Not that those stakes aren''t still hanging over my head. This is just one of very few times where all I can do is wait.


    I learn a few things over the next hour or so. One is that Thys has something like fifteen siblings, eight brothers and seven sisters. Another is that he and his siblings swap places in the arena all the time ¡ª none of the organizers can tell the difference between kobolds, apparently. It''s part of why the persona is so important for them; it''s much easier for them to pretend to be one another when they all have an equally bombastic template personality to draw from.


    I don''t share nearly as much with Thys, which I feel a little guilty about. I can''t talk to him about anything Trial-related, nor can I really risk telling him about anything I can do. In the end, I just tell him some things about Earth and my life there. I''ve never thought about it until now, but the sheer variety of species on Hestia is apparently because Hestia is something of a hub planet, and has been since even before the Integrators.


    Then Thys asks me when I''ll be back, and I wince.


    "I don''t know," I say. "I have to help one of my friends, and that will take me a while. Maybe in a week or two?"


    The truth is, of course, that I don''t really know if I''ll be ready even in a week or two. But Thys seems more than satisfied with my answer.


    "I look forward to seeing you again!" Thys says happily. "Lemme tell you, most of the other arena combatants here are stuffy beyond belief. It''ll be nice for us to have someone to talk to that isn''t trying to kill us outside the arena."


    "I have a lot of concerns about this place, suddenly," I say.


    "It''s fiiine. It''s great! Just try not to get murdered and you''ll do great!"


    Well, I can''t say he isn''t optimistic, I suppose.

 79 — Book 2, Chapter 16 — Connected

    About three minutes after Thys leaves ¡ª it takes a lot of convincing, and makes me wonder briefly if Thys actually has any other friends besides his siblings ¡ª someone attempts to murder me. I almost wonder if this is intentional and a part of Tarin''s training, too, but I''m pretty sure it isn''t. Mostly because the would-be-assassin is almost laughably weak.


    Or maybe it''s just the fact that Premonition and my Firmament sense trivialize that particular method of assassination. Premonition alerts me to a small dart of Firmament aimed at my head, and my Firmament sense quickly locates a shrouded wall of stealth-based Firmament a moment after that.


    It''s not hard to stop them. It''s not even hard to make it look like an accident. Trip at the right time, and that bolt of Firmament flies harmlessly part of my head; stumble into the wall, just hard enough to crash into whoever''s just tried to kill me and knock them out of their stealth.


    "Oh!" I say, pretending at surprise. "Sorry, I didn''t see you there. Are you alright?"


    The assassin in question is a froglike creature that squints up at me with large, bulging eyes. He looks confused and utterly out of his element. "Yes," he says. "No worry. Have good day."


    His voice is rough, like he isn''t used to actually speaking ¡ª and now that I can get a close, visual inspection of him, there are angry red splotches on his skin that make me narrow my eyes in abrupt concern. I''m not able to bring them up, though. He disappears almost as soon as he''s done speaking, hopping off into a corner and shrouding himself with stealthy Firmament once more.


    I don''t chase after him. My primary concern at the moment is that She-Who-Whispers is keeping an eye on me somehow. She''s certainly demonstrated the ability to at least hear what people are saying across the city. If she has the ability to send messages to herself across loops...


    Well, I want to make sure her information is wrong. I just can''t give up the entire loop to do that. There wouldn''t be a point, anyway; if I let the frog kill me, She-Who-Whispers wouldn''t have enough time to send back information through whatever part of the Interface lets her do that.


    Or maybe I''m being a bit paranoid about this whole thing.


    I head back towards Miktik''s workshop, lost in thought. I''m worried about a lot of factors that I don''t have any real information about; a lot of what I''m doing is educated guesswork based on what others have told me. It''s better than nothing, but I can''t help but feel like I''m just floundering around in the dark.


    But I don''t have to keep floundering about in the dark. If I make the right calls, if I talk to the right people over multiple loops ¡ª if I take advantage of the fact that I don''t need to write notes to remember things across loops... I can get the information advantage. Eventually.


    I think.


    And so begins the smallest spark of a very, very stupid idea.


    ¡ª


    In no time at all, it''s time to meet with She-Who-Whispers. The invitation arrives in the form of a whispered breath of Firmament.


    Meet me in my palace in two hours.


    That whisper is everything but simple. There''s something about the Firmament bound into it that wraps around me like a vice, and from the looks on Tarin''s and Mikitk''s faces, they feel it too. There''s a promise embedded in the whisper. An oath. It''s adjacent to a compulsion ¡ª it doesn''t force me to do anything, but it does make it very clear that there will be consequences if I choose not to obey. The Firmament digs into me, promising to cripple, to destroy.


    A part of me rails against it immediately. Firmament Manipulation rears up around me, slamming against the Firmament bindings like it''s a cage, for all the good that does. She-Who-Whispers has Firmament that might as well be iron to a normal, un-enhanced Ethan.


    That doesn''t mean I can''t do anything.


    Quicken Mind helps. Whatever skill she''s using is powerful, but it''s not fast. At the speeds I can think, it''s enough for me to react, to evaluate, and to try different strategies. Plain old Firmament Manipulation doesn''t work? That''s fine.


    Inspiration. Void.


    The Void rears up within me, eager to consume. Hungry. It''s been hungry for a while, I realize with a start, and if I hadn''t chosen to feed it then it would eventually have reared its head on its own; I realize with a grimace that I''m going to need to remember to feed it before it becomes a problem.


    For now, it attacks the binding with a voracious hunger¡ª


    ¡ªand just as quickly as it begins, it''s full.


    I''m almost stunned into silence. The Void has never been full before. But the Inspiration is emanating a definite sense of satisfaction, and withdraws deeper into me before I can call on it to eat away more of the binding.


    There''s a crack in there. The smallest fracture that might allow me room to manipulate the terms of the Whisper. But considering the Void is one of the more powerful tools in my kit, I''d been hoping it would have more of an effect.


    "I guess that''s where she gets her name," I say grimly. There''s a deep sense of exhaustion beginning to settle just from using the Inspiration¡ªI''ve taxed myself in some fundamental way. It''s not quite the same as straining my Firmament, though. I wonder what the difference is.


    Miktik nods in agreement. "Her Whisper controls a lot of Isthanok," she says. "Even the underground. Especially the underground, maybe."


    Tarin does an exaggerated sort of shudder, puffing out his feathers. "It feel gross."


    "It does." Miktik''s antennae wave around in discomfort. I get the sense that there''s more to this she isn''t saying.


    "What happens if you don''t listen to it?" I ask suddenly. Miktik grimaces, the plates of chitin on her back shuddering involuntarily.


    "Nothing good," she says faintly. "It doesn''t kill you¡ªcan''t kill you, as far as we know. But it does hurt. It restricts your Firmament, and it feels like it''s burning. You can''t escape it until you obey."


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I let out a breath. "She''s worse than Naru," I mutter. "Are all the Hestian Trialgoers this bad?"


    It''s Tarin''s turn to respond. "We not know," he says. "But many."


    It almost makes me wonder if there''s a secondary true purpose to the Trials. From what Tarin''s said, the Trials are meant to get the Trialgoers to access the Heart of a world; it looks like it''s also meant to build them a troop of loyal soldiers. It does seem strange that there are exactly ten Hestian Trialgoers. It''s the bare minimum needed for a planet to pass the Trials, but I wouldn''t have expected exactly that number to survive.


    Maybe they cull it down to ten. I narrow my eyes at the thought, and briefly call up the Interface, looking at the chat ¡ª


    ¡ª and almost step back in shock.


    [ Temporal band interference temporarily bypassed. Chat connected. ]


    I don''t even think to check for new names, anyone newly deceased. The names glow in the Interface, temptingly available. Some of them are listed as not yet having unlocked the Chat feature, and therefore not being able to respond, but...


    I can contact almost anyone else in the Trials using this. Anyone else that''s unlocked this same section of the Interface, anyway.


    "Ethan?" Tarin interrupts my thoughts by poking me with a wing.


    "Sorry, sorry," I say, distracted. "Just... give me a second. I need to look at something on the Interface."


    I retreat to a corner of the workshop so I can scroll through the list and look for a name. Anyone I recognize, but failing that, just being able to talk to another human...


    "I can see your chat," Ahkelios says quietly. I almost jump; he''s been strangely silent this whole time. "I think... I think I remember seeing this. In my own Trial. It never connected for me."


    I don''t know what to say to that. "I''m sorry," I offer.


    The mantis shakes his head, hopping down so that he''s sitting on my knee and staring up at the list with me. "Message someone?"


    There''s something in his tone, like he wants to see how it could have gone for him. What things might have been like if he were able to contact others. I reach out to the Interface. I don''t need to find someone I know; the odds of that happening are slim to none, anyway.


    I just need to talk to someone else from Earth about this.


    Fortunately, with the Interface directly transcribing my thoughts into text, messaging is fairly quick and simple.


    [ Connecting to: Zhao Ong (aaaaaaaaaa) ]


    [ Ethan: Hello?


    aaaaaaaaaa: Ah! Hello!


    aaaaaaaaaa: Please ignore my username! I selected it while I was in distress!


    aaaaaaaaaa: I do not know what language you speak, but supposedly the Interface translates all of it. It is nice to meet you! You are new?


    Ethan: Sort of. I haven''t been able to connect to the chat functionality until recently. It sounds like you''ve been talking to others?


    aaaaaaaaaa: Yes! There are dozens of us! We have been contacting people in alphabetical order.


    aaaaaaaaaa: When they can be contacted.


    aaaaaaaaaa: We are trying to learn as much as we can. It is difficult! All our Trials are very different, and our Integrators refuse to tell us anything.


    aaaaaaaaaa: But we think they are lying. ]


    I pause long enough to delete my initial response, which was a little more sarcastic than strictly necessary.


    [ Ethan: They are. ]


    There. It pays to be polite, I hear.


    [ aaaaaaaaaa: Ah! You know already. Perhaps more than we do?


    Ethan: Maybe. Can you tell me what kind of Trials you''re in?


    aaaaaaaaaa: Ah! Yes! I am in a Rank B Trial. It is some kind of dungeon, I think. There are many rooms, and many monsters. I am taking a break at the moment.


    aaaaaaaaaa: The others I know of are in Rank A, Rank C, and Rank S Trials. The first one climbs a tower! The second one simply has to fight waves of monsters. They come every day or so.


    aaaaaaaaaa: The Rank S Trial does not talk much. I think she is constantly falling. There are islands she can land on, and she has not managed to land on any yet. I am worried about her. ]


    I wince. She''s been falling for... days, if that''s correct. Sounds like there''s some kind of Interface trick involved.


    [ Ethan: How did she manage to unlock the chat, then?


    aaaaaaaaaa: There are many monsters that are also falling. ]


    I guess that answers that question.


    [ aaaaaaaaaa: Can you tell us what you know? ]


    I hesitate, deciding how much I can say ¡ª how much I should say. It sounds like other people have found out much less about the Trials than I have. I''m inclined to tell them everything I know, but while Zhao seems earnest enough, I don''t know any of the others he claims to be in contact with.


    And the secondary problem is... some of them might agree with what the Integrators are doing. Naru''s story rings clear in my head, along with what I''ve seen of the Hestian Trialgoers. If I tell them my theories ¡ª if I tell them that there''s a chance the Integrators are only looking for ten people to enforce their policies on Earth...


    That way lies a definite power grab. I don''t want to say too much until I know these people better.


    But that doesn''t mean I want them to die. I should still help them ¡ª I just don''t want them to have a reason to fight amongst each other.


    [ Ethan: Only a little. The Integrators are definitely lying. They want the Trials for something else. We need to find a way to get around them.


    Ethan: They''re always watching, but they don''t always seem to be paying attention. That, or they think it''s funny when we try to work against them. We can probably take advantage of that.


    Ethan: You mentioned your Integrators, so you''ve probably already hit a milestone and earned an Inspiration?


    aaaaaaaaaa: Yes! I have one. It is powerful, but very tiring to use. It magnifies skills! Makes them bigger or smaller, beyond their normal limits.


    Ethan: Nice. I have a few. You should get Inspect or Intuitive Analysis as soon as possible, if you don''t have them already. They''ll help you figure out what skills you''re going to get before you get them.


    aaaaaaaaaa: Thank you! That is useful to know! I have just been guessing. I have a skill that makes my hands buzz very fast. It is not very useful.


    Ethan: It''s a Reflex skill, weirdly enough. I think Reflex is just mental skills. We should see if there''s a way to help each other in the Trials. I can''t talk very often ¡ª my Trial disconnects me from the chat a lot. Can you keep me updated if you find a way to help one another?


    aaaaaaaaaa: Of course! You are very helpful. Thank you! ]


    I lean back and sigh. I don''t know why, but there''s something like adrenaline pumping through my veins; something about that conversation alarmed me. I don''t know what it is. It''s not Zhao himself, I don''t think ¡ª he seems earnest enough ¡ª but their circumstances seem so different.


    He has one Inspiration so far. That''s not bad, but it''s drastically different from where I''m at. I''ve been assuming everyone else is more or less on pace with me, but if they''re not ¡ª if they''re further behind ¡ª then things are going to get much, much harder.


    "I think you made the right call there," Ahkelios says. "Not telling him about the Heart."


    "Maybe," I say. I''m not convinced. "Let''s go. We have a palace to get to."


    And in the Interface, the chat once again disconnects, displaying its usual error instead.

 80 — Book 2, Chapter 17 — The Automaton

    She-Who-Whispers calls her home a palace. She isn''t wrong.


    Her home is the highest shard in Isthanok. It floats above the city like a mirrored citadel, though with far less regal majesty. Instead, it''s a mess of silver fragments that spike into the air, like debris from a meteorite strike caught and frozen mid-explosion.


    I''m not sure what that says about her aesthetic sensibilities. Maybe She-Who-Whispers is making a statement, living in what looks like a frozen disaster dangling over all of Isthanok.


    Getting up there is, fortunately, much easier than it looks. Miktik leads us to a shrine hidden near the borders of Isthanok; it''s a small structure with an open roof that''s guarded by two silverwisps. Neither of them say a word when I greet them, instead stepping aside to allow us entry, and inside...


    I grimace. Inside is a stained glass floor that depicts She-Who-Whispers in decor that looks alarmingly religious. It''s a beautiful work of art, certainly, but my questions about the silverwisp Trialgoer are only growing.


    Small motes of light glow beneath the stained glass floor. They flare with occasional brilliance, lighting up different sections of the image and painting the walls in a dazzling array of colors.


    I''m a little tempted to activate Color Drain, just to mess with the ostentatious display, but I don''t.


    That''s for a future loop.


    For now, we step onto the center of the floor as Miktik directs, and the motes of light beneath the floor suddenly flare as one ¡ª I feel a surge of Firmament come from somewhere, and the four of us are all launched through the ceiling and towards the palace.


    Tarin yelps and flaps his wings awkwardly, trying to control his ascent and only really managing to spin in circles. Ahkelios clings tightly to my hair. Miktik... soars through the air about as gracefully as she can, and I do my best to mimic her. As long as I''m not trying to fight the current of Firmament, it''s actually pretty easy to maintain my balance.


    A few minutes later, we land at the feet of the stairs that lead up to the palace, miles up in the air.


    I just stare disbelievingly at the steps ahead of us. "She couldn''t have designed that to send us to the top of the stairs?"


    "Trust me, don''t ask her about it," Miktik says tiredly.


    "Next time I fly up here!" Tarin squawks indignantly. I look over at him and stifle a laugh; his feathers are puffed up awkwardly. He looks like he''s had the bird equivalent of a bad hair day.


    "It''ll probably be easier," I agree. "Come on, let''s go."


    Power play or not, making it up those steps is pretty trivial with Crystallized Strength to enhance my leaps; I just get Miktik to climb up onto my shoulders before I go. I try not to react to the feeling of fourteen legs digging into my back, and before long, we''re standing before the enormously tall front doors.


    They open automatically as soon as we make it close enough, fortunately. I''m not sure my Strength skills would let me open that thing without just breaking off the lower portion of the door.


    "Welcome, dears."


    I nearly jump. She-Who-Whispers'' voice curls around us, a quiet whisper that fortunately doesn''t carry the same weight of Firmament that her commands do. At the same time, as I flick my Firmament sense outwards and expand it, trying to grasp the flow of Firmament in this place...


    My brows furrow. Firmament bounces off the walls of the palace, reflecting and refracting off different facets of not-glass and growing stronger as it does. More than that, it all seems to be moving in distinct, purposeful directions; there''s a current of Firmament leading up, and another one leading down.


    I don''t know what this means yet, but this is almost certainly intentional.


    "Do come on up. Your gift is ready."


    That whisper comes with an edge of command in it. It''s not just a whisper; it''s a Whisper, backed and multiplied by the power of the Interface. There''s no reason for her to use it here except as a show of force, and I grit my teeth in annoyance.


    Void, I command. The Inspiration is still dozing within me, apparently full from its last meal; it hasn''t even completely digested the last fraction of Firmament it ate from the Whisper command. That suits me just fine. If she''s going to keep doing this, I''m going to collect samples of her Firmament.


    Let''s see exactly how this Whisper works.


    It takes a bit of coaxing, but the Void eventually ¡ª reluctantly ¡ª gives up what small piece of the first Whisper it still has, and then sets about eagerly devouring this new, second Whisper. The two pieces of Firmament don''t feel exactly the same, but it''s hard for me to pinpoint exactly what''s different about them. I tuck the fragment of the first Whisper away in a pocket of my own Firmament.


    I''ll do the same with the second Whisper once the Void''s had time to digest.


    The rest of her Whisper still coils around me in agitation. The Void is able to only peel off a fraction of Firmament, just as before; I''m just as subject to her so-called punishment as I was before the Void ate away at it, and I''m starting to feel it constrict around me.


    Miktik is giving me a worried look. "We need to go," she says.


    "Right, right." The grip of her Whisper eases almost as soon as I take a step forward towards yet another flight of stairs. This one, at least, is not nearly as long.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    She-Who-Whispers sits at the top of her palace. It''s an odd look for her ¡ª she projects an image of dainty, delicate woman, sitting atop a throne of glass ¡ª but the throne is enormous, and the juxtaposition with the kindly look she wears is jarring.


    And next to her... The sight almost makes me stumble. It is the same automaton that attacked me back in the Fracture, or if not that one then one that looks exactly like it. It''s the automaton that caused Anomaly 006 to trigger almost ninety days early.


    It''s docile right now, kneeling next to She-Who-Whispers. Like it''s a knight, and not a terrifyingly powerful robot. I''ve come a long way since I last fought it, but...


    "You made it," She-Who-Whispers says, smiling as if she didn''t use her Whispers to bring us here to begin with. "As promised ¡ª one of my soldiers to lend to you. The Fracture is a dangerous place, as you well know; I am afraid you will not survive an expedition into its depths without assistance."


    "I feel like this is a little too much," I say, feigning a polite, respectful dip of my head. "I''m sure Isthanok needs its services more than we do."


    "He is more than capable of doing both," She-Who-Whispers says, smiling beatifically. The emphasis on he makes me blink. It... he''s alive, then, and there''s some level of attachment she feels towards him. "This is just one of his many bodies. Do not worry."


    "My name is He-Who-Guards," the automaton says, getting up from his kneeling position and bowing towards me instead. I frown slightly. The same naming scheme as She-Who-Whispers, despite him not being a silverwisp. There''s the same flow of Firmament towards the core in his chest that I remember from our first encounter; just like before, it flickers strangely, a patch of multicolored Firmament appearing buried deep within the purple.


    It vanishes just as quickly as it surfaces. It almost reminds me of someone that''s drowning.


    "You may call me Guard," the automaton adds. He doesn''t show any sign of recognizing me, at least. He steps forward to stand beside me, and I try not to flinch away from him. "I will ensure that your journey into the Fracture is safe."


    I consider this for a moment.


    I don''t think there''s any way to avoid bringing Guard with me without She-Who-Whispers catching on, and I''m not certain that I want to. Something about Guard triggered the Anomaly early, and if I bring him with me, I might find out what that is. He''ll quite obviously spy on me for She-Who-Whispers, but that gives me an opportunity to feed her false information, and learn more about her in the process.


    I can work with this.


    "Thank you," I tell She-Who-Whispers, and then I turn to Guard. "And you as well. I''m worried about Rotar, so any help is appreciated."


    "Of course," She-Who-Whispers says grandly. "Now, I really must talk to Miktik about my next order. Leave with Guard, will you?"


    The last sentence is said as a Whisper, and I notice the way Miktik flinches. Just slightly. It shows up as the smallest tremble in her legs, the slight droop of her antennae. She doesn''t say a word to us, keeping herself oriented straight ahead and towards She-Who-Whispers, and it occurs to me rather abruptly that something is deeply, deeply wrong.


    No. Not abruptly. This is a Premonition.


    Shit.


    Ahkelios, I think urgently. The bond between us is something I haven''t used to communicate with him before ¡ª at least, not in the form of words ¡ª and it''s not something I''m able to do now, either. What Ahkelios receives is more of a jumble of impressions; Miktik, urgency, separation. We haven''t tested the new limits of Temporal Fragment since his upgrade, and now seems as good a time as any.


    She-Who-Whispers hasn''t figured out that Ahkelios is anything more than just a decoration yet, somehow. He''s excluded from her Whisper. He doesn''t have to leave.


    "Here," I say, taking him off my head and placing him on the back of Miktik''s shell. "For good luck."


    This is really going to stretch the limits of our bond.


    Guard follows me as I start heading down the steps, feeling for the tightening of the Whisper''s Firmament with every step I take. When I reach the bottom of them, I feel the Whisper fade away entirely, and I breathe a small sigh of relief. Ahkelios hasn''t snapped back to me yet. The range expansion is something we''ll have to test in more detail later.


    "You are stopping," Guard notes. "Is something wrong?"


    "Nothing," I say dismissively. I glance at Tarin, who''s looking back up the steps worriedly. "Just need a break. Stairs are my mortal enemy, and this place has a lot of them."


    "Your mortal enemy?" Guard sounds curious.


    "They''re exhausting to climb," I deadpan. "The absolute worst. Trust me, you''re better off without muscles and lactic acid buildup."


    The strangest thing happens, then ¡ª the robot chuckles. It''s a strange, unnatural sound, and it cuts off just as suddenly as it begins; once again, there''s the strange distortion of Firmament in his core. "What was that?" I ask.


    "It was nothing," Guard says dismissively. "Do not worry about it."


    Right. I let it slide, but my mind keeps churning.


    Whatever that was, it''s definitely not nothing.


    <hr>


    Ahkelios kept himself as still as possible, which was a lot harder than Ethan seemed to think it was! His Firmament body was hard enough to keep perfectly stable at the best of times, and it was even worse if he had to pretend to be an ornament. He was pretty sure it was safe for him to move a little; it wasn''t like he''d stayed completely still when he was with Ethan before in the presence of She-Who-Whispers, but he felt like he needed to be careful. He didn''t want to be dismissed before he found out what was happening here.


    And something was definitely happening. She-Who-Whispers'' attitude changed completely almost as soon as Ethan and Tarin left the room; something about her became colder, and icy Firmament crept out from beneath her feet.


    "So, you found a Trialgoer," She-Who-Whispers said. "And when were you planning on reporting that to me?"


    "As soon as Miktik could!" Miktik said. Ahkelios was pretty sure she was lying; she was doing that thing again, slipping into third person. "Miktik was still with them when you arrived! I didn''t have time to report it yet."


    She-Who-Whispers looked Miktik up and down. "Your delay should have burned you quite badly," the Trialgoer mused. "But you seem fine. Did you find a way around my little trick?"


    Miktik spread her mandibles to answer, but a sudden increase in Firmament pressure stopped her; she struggled to even gather the breath to speak, and Ahkelios felt the Firmament of his form slowly destabilizing. He tried to hold on. Whatever was about to happen was important, he could feel it.


    "Don''t bother answering. I''ll figure it out myself," She-Who-Whispers said. "Tell me everything."


    That was a Whisper, Ahkelios knew. He couldn''t borrow Ethan''s senses without him here, but from the way Miktik shook, he could tell it was wrapping itself around her. She didn''t speak, still, though her entire body trembled with the effort.


    Something underneath her sparked and died. Ahkelios caught a brief glimpse of it; a triangular piece of metal, glowing red hot with Firmament.


    Then Miktik''s plating began to burn, and Ahkelios winked out, dissipated by the force of the Firmament roaring through the room.

 81 — Book 2, Chapter 18 — Reckless Endangerment

    Ahkelios doesn''t tell me what happens, exactly. He can''t ¡ª not with Guard there. Instead he sends filtered images and impressions to me, enough that I have a decent idea of exactly what happened, and everything about it makes my blood boil.


    It takes everything I have not to run right back up the stairs. She-Who-Whispers'' command was to leave. It said nothing about whether or not I could go back. Her Whisper has already loosened around me, enough that I can make my way back up without worrying about getting fried.


    And yet I don''t move. I remember what happened with Naru. I don''t regret what happened with him. He deserved the punch, and the look on his face was worth it. But here? Rotar and K''hkeri are still at risk.


    Tarin and Mari have both told me I''m too reckless. It takes everything I have to hold myself back. There''s a part of my brain screaming that I should try, that I can''t just let this happen, but...


    I don''t have the power to fight off She-Who-Whispers right now. I can''t run back up just to punch her.


    But that doesn''t mean I can do nothing.


    My mind races. She-Who-Whispers clearly cares about how she looks to others. She''s nothing but graceful and polite when speaking with us, and her threats are all veiled threats and subtle gestures. She has a giant castle floating in the sky as a home, and the path to it involves standing on a stained glass representation of her.


    "I forgot to ask Miktik something," I tell Guard apologetically. "I''m just going to go back up real quick."


    I bound up the steps before Guard can stop me ¡ª although to my surprise, he doesn''t even try. He just looks at me curiously as I make my way back up, hoping against hope that I''m going to get there in time. Miktik''s said that She-Who-Whispers can''t kill with her ability, or at least has never done so where it would be noticed. I don''t know if that''s an actual limitation of her Whispers or simply part of what she''s chosen to portray.


    I knock on the massive doors once before I push my way back in. I haven''t thought of an excuse yet. Miktik is trembling on her legs, trying to stay standing, but there''s barely even a hint of the restrictive Firmament that was just burning away at her. For her species in particular, I think, most of the burns aren''t visible ¡ª but I can feel the agitation Miktik''s own Firmament is in, as it rushes to try to repair the damage done to her body.


    She-Who-Whispers frowns at me. "You have not left," she notes.


    "I forgot something," I say, bowing my head apologetically. "I think I might actually need Miktik along for this. She''s the one that tracked Rotar down, and the Fracture''s pretty big and pretty deep. I''m going to need her along in case I can''t find him."


    "Hm." She-Who-Whispers stares at me, and I wait patiently. She seems suspicious, but she doesn''t have any proof that I know what she''s done. If she''s clever, she''ll make a note in her Interface to watch out for future ''suspicious'' behavior from me ¡ª I''ll have to watch for any changes in the next loop.


    Which might come sooner than I expect, at this rate, considering I feel the pressure of her Firmament slowly increasing.


    But it lets up before long, and I take a quick, discreet breath of relief. "Very well," She-Who-Whispers says grandly. "You may have two of my subjects instead."


    The way she says it makes it clear she believes I owe her a favor for it, and it takes effort for me not to screw my face up in distaste. Miktik scurries over to me, her relief evident, and I give her a slight nod.


    "I appreciate it," I tell She-Who-Whispers, and then I pull Miktik back out of the room. Figuratively. I don''t think she needs me to drag her around right now.


    I don''t ask her if she needs help. She-Who-Whispers will be able to hear me if I do. I do glance at her worriedly, and she gives me a small nod, as if to say she''ll be fine; this mostly makes me frown, because I don''t know if she''s telling the truth. I don''t know why she''s being so brave for us in the first place, unless she has a lot more history with Tarin and Mari than I know.


    "You don''t actually have to come with us," I say as we head back down the steps.


    "I think I have to," Miktik answers. There''s a tightness in her voice that takes me a moment to parse, and I wonder if She-Who-Whispers has layered yet another Whisper onto her. The thought makes my fists clench, but I say nothing; I just nod in agreement.


    We''ll figure this out.


    The layers of Firmament that flow through the castle are still concerning to me. I glance around, trying to pinpoint where they''re going, exactly. I can identify at least two individual rivers of Firmament, one heading up towards She-Who-Whispers'' throne room and the other one down. Where that one is going... I''m not sure.


    I stop at the base of the steps, where we rejoin Tarin and Guard. Tarin''s eyes widen when he sees Miktik, and he squawks and steps towards her. "You hurt."


    "Miktik is fine," Miktik says, which is maybe the most transparent lie I''ve seen during the loops yet. "We should get going."


    Tarin''s about to protest, but Guard speaks up suddenly, rumbling in agreement. "We should."


    I don''t protest. I want to get as far away from She-Who-Whispers as possible right now.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    There''s a limit to how far I can extend my Firmament sense, but I try to push it as far as we leave. I want to figure out where the Firmament flowing through the castle is going. It doesn''t feel like it''s going anywhere, though; if anything, it feels like it''s just bouncing around the castle, getting inexplicably stronger, and then flowing back out and down towards all of Isthanok...


    I almost stop in mid-step as a thought occurs to me. It translates to a slight stumble, and to my surprise it''s Guard that reaches out to steady me. He stares at me in what looks like concern. "Are you alright?"


    "I''m fine. I just tripped," I lie.


    Guard''s strange behavior aside...


    She-Who-Whispers'' castle is a signal amplifier. It''s probably how she listens in on everyone, and it''s probably how she sends down her Whispers across the city, too. It explains the range she has, and it explains why there are two separate rivers of Firmament moving through the castle. It explains why her skill is so strong even at a distance.


    The whole castle is a massive imbuement that enhances her core skill.


    I don''t know what to do with this information yet, but it''s more information than I had before. My steps are a little lighter as I head back out, step on the absurd launchpad that serves as an exit for the most ostentatious structure I''ve had the displeasure of visiting in all of Hestia so far, and leave.


    Isthanok is a beautiful city, but I think I''ve had quite enough of it.


    ¡ª


    We don''t encounter any trouble all the way back to the Gates. All the way back to the Fracture, actually. The trip is faster than I expected ¡ª Guard offers to carry all three of us, supported partially on his back and partially by ropes of Firmament that wrap around each of us and keep us securely attached to him.


    I''m not exactly enthusiastic about being bound like this, but I don''t exactly have any excuses left to use. Getting back to the Fracture as fast as possible is a benefit, and the speed at which he goes... I think Tarin is jealous, actually.


    All this makes me wonder if me pushing him into the Fracture was something I should even have been able to do. He''s clearly a level above all of us.


    As much as I want to bring Ahkelios out, I don''t. I don''t want Guard or She-Who-Whispers to know that he''s anything more than a Firmament ornament. Their skill with Firmament Manipulation is significantly greater than mine, if the imbuement on her castle is any indication, and I don''t want to risk anything happening to him.


    So the trip back to the Fracture is largely quiet.


    Tarin and Miktik are both subdued. Guard isn''t much of a talker, it seems, and I''m lost in my own thoughts. I do spend some time examining the Firmament that runs through Guard ¡ª I''ve seen it behave strangely twice, now, and I''m still trying to figure out what that means. Considering She-Who-Whispers'' modus operandi...


    I really hope this is the Trialgoer that Ahkelios mentioned ¡ª the one that can influence minds ¡ª but I have a feeling that it isn''t. She-Who-Whispers just operates in a somewhat similar way, I suspect, which means this is going to get worse before it gets better. The thought makes me grimace.


    Countermeasures. Sooner rather than later. Virin might be able to help me with imbuements that can counter effects like this, and Miktik clearly had something that was able to offset the ''punishment'' effect from the Whisper applied on her. Judging by the vision Ahkelios sent to me, anyway.


    We have options.


    Guard lands in the Fracture, and the Firmament binding us falls away; all three of us land quietly on the ground, and I hold up a hand to stop the others from proceeding. "Careful," I say. "Guard, can you head up first? I think the part ahead of us is trapped."


    Which is to say, I know the part ahead of us is trapped. There''s a Stone Guardian that will fling itself at us the moment we cross some invisible boundary. I can deal with it now, but I want to see what Guard does.


    ...Which is nothing.


    Guard cocks his head in interest as the Guardian emerges, but doesn''t bother to act. The arm that brained me in one of my first loops simply shatters ineffectually against him. There might have been a laser involved, but if there was, it happened too quickly for me to see.


    I suppose I should have expected that. Metal versus rock: metal wins. The new age version of rock-paper-scissors, except the scissors have experienced a massive upgrade and now have lasers.


    "Your friend is further down," Miktik says quietly. "About three hundred meters."


    This far away from the noise and bustle of Isthanok ¡ª and having already pinpointed the feel of Rotar''s Firmament ¡ª she doesn''t need her pocket oracle to find him, apparently.


    Three hundred meters is further down than I''ve ever been in the Fracture before. There''s also an all-too-familiar buildup of Firmament slowly gathering, and I know what that means for us.


    "We need to hide," I say. As much as I''m trying to avoid showing off my capabilities, I''m not risking this entire expedition just to do that. We need to get to Rotar. "Something''s coming."


    "What something?" Tarin asks.


    "I can protect us," Guard says.


    Miktik doesn''t say anything. She just scurries into the nearest home built into the Fracture''s walls, then peers out worriedly; I gesture for Tarin and Guard to follow.


    "Bettter not to risk it," I tell Guard. I can''t exactly tell him I know he won''t be able to take a direct hit from the Fracture''s Firmament emissions. He ducks into the house behind me, his expression mildly puzzled¡ª


    Hexfold Shield.


    Firmament blasts out of the Fracture, so bright that my triplicate cast of Hexfold Shield is barely visible against the light. Guard automatically brings up some sort of barrier of his own, a light-purple shield that sections us off entirely, and I disable my own shield as soon as he''s brought up his own.


    For a solid ten seconds, Firmament roars up and out of the Fracture, bright and powerful. It''s impossible for us to hear one another, though Miktik tries to speak and Tarin squawks what sounds like something rude. Guard is silent, but his expression is surprisingly focused ¡ª I see the Firmament within him flare, flitting through different hues.


    Then the Anomaly ends, and the room is silent but for the leftover ringing in my ears.


    "That warning was well-placed," Guard says. He sounds grateful. "I would not have survived a direct hit, I think. This must be what we have been detecting ¡ª we could not find the exact source. If She-Who-Whispers had not commanded me to guard you, I would have sent a different copy of myself to investigate this."


    That''s the most he''s ever said at once. "You''re welcome?" I try. Guard nods at me respectfully.


    I... don''t know what to make of him, honestly. She-Who-Whispers treats him almost like a pawn, but there are things about that that are strange; the fact that he has a silverwisp name, for one, and that she was particularly insistent that I respect it.


    He''s certainly one of her tools, but he''s something else on top of that.


    A mystery to file away for another time. Deeper within the Fracture, Rotar''s temporal jail awaits.

 82 — Book 2, Chapter 19 — Problem Solving

    Even if I hadn''t grown sharply between my last attempt at exploring the Fracture and my current one, Guard and Tarin''s presences are enough to make the first three hundred meters of the Fracture a cakewalk. Guard by himself would probably be more than enough ¡ª the more I watch him fight, the more I appreciate that me pushing him into the Fracture might have been nothing more than luck.


    That, or something else was at play.


    [ You have defeated an Abyssal Cicada (Rank A)! +47 Strength credits. +92 Durability credits. +86 Speed credits. +60 Reflex credits. +27 Firmament credits. ]


    Presumably I don''t get the full Firmament credit because Tarin and Guard did most of the work on that one. It''s a relief to finally see all of the credits I''ve accumulated since the fight against the chimeras, though; evidently training in that tournament was good for something.


    That, or fighting off Whisper''s... well, Whispers, was enough to award me a good number of credits.


    ...Calling her just Whisper is probably going to get confusing given her skill is also a ''Whisper'', but I''ve decided she hasn''t earned me referring to her by her proper title. I''d sooner do that for Guard. He-Who-Guards. Whatever.


    [ You have defeated an Abyssal Cicada (Rank A)! +1 Firmament credit. ]


    I didn''t get to contribute much to that one. I''m lucky I got any credits at all. Guard and Tarin both are focused on defending us from the literal horde of monsters buzzing towards us, with Guard doing the majority of the work and Tarin getting progressively more frustrated and competitive.


    I''d join them, but I think I''d just get in Guard''s way, at this point. That, and I still don''t want to reveal everything I''m capable of to Whisper. I hate to admit it, but she seems to be right ¡ª I did need his help here. The thought makes my lip curl in distaste.


    We''re getting close to where Rotar is, according to Miktik. I can''t see him in the distance at all, but she insists that he''s nearby, and that he should be visible.


    As Guard and Tarin clear out the last of the cicadas, though, Rotar and K''hkeri-slash-Ikaara both become visible. The sight of them is briefly relieving, and then slightly concerning.


    They''re not actually standing on land at all. They''re floating in the air, right above the endlessly deep Fracture.


    "You guys might need to catch them once I bring them back," I say. Honestly, I don''t even know if I can. I''m hoping against hope that Temporal Fragment will give me something ¡ª this is somewhat within its area of expertise, and the skill still hasn''t given up all its secrets.


    It''s been a while since I''ve used it for anything besides calling up Ahkelios. I haven''t even used it to bring out echoes of myself; it hasn''t really been relevant. But calling on the skill again feels like reaching for an old friend. The Firmament it uses is unlike anything else I''ve encountered. It rushes up into my skull, granting me sight ¡ª the ability to reach for any of my past loops and bring forth an echo of myself...


    ...but that''s not the functionality I want, here and now.


    I close my eyes, and reach deeper into the skill.


    There''s at least one other ability inherent to the skill I''m aware of. The connection I hold with Ahkelios still thrums within me. Part of the skill is able to reach out to anything that''s out of sync with time and create a connection with it; that''s the part of the skill that I used to connect with both the harpy and Ahkelios.


    That''s the part of the skill I need ¡ª but it doesn''t resonate with Rotar or Ikaara. Not in the same way, at least. The skill knows that they''re there, it just doesn''t respond to them in the same way. There''s no connection I can forge with them because they aren''t an echo or a fragment; they''re complete beings caught outside time.


    A certainty settles within me, guided by Inspect: Temporal Fragment in its current form cannot bring Rotar and Ikaara back. It can make the connection if I force it, perhaps, but with its limited ability to manifest the things I make a connection with, it can do no more than bring out a partial copy. Like Ahkelios, in some ways, and like my own echoes in others.


    I take a breath. Tarin is watching me, worried, and I''m not ready to give up yet. I have my Inspirations, the aspect of the Interface that allows me to modify the function of skills. I have points I can bank. I have skills I can merge.


    All I need is time.


    The Mirror Twice Shattered. The All-Seeing Eye. The Void. The Accelerator.


    The Void and the Accelerator are out. The Void will consume everything that Rotar and Ikaara are. The Accelerator can do little more than speed up the process by which I manifest their echoes, and its link to the Void makes it even more suspect. Both Inspirations seem eager to be used, but I close myself off to them.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The All-Seeing Eye is an Inspiration I use to combine skills. It might help me here if I can find something to combine Temporal Fragment with ¡ª Crystallized Strength, for example. A way for me to compound all the fragments of a person I can pull out, and reconstitute them from the pieces...


    ...That one''s a little more violent than I would like, and I have no guarantee it would work the way I want it to.


    The Mirror Twice Shattered is the unique one amongst my Inspirations. I can mirror a skill four different ways through it, lensing it through different aspects of my past that each relate to one of the basic categories of credit offered by the Interface. In theory, that allows me to use it to convert any skill into a Strength, Speed, Reflex, or Durability skill.


    None of that feels like it helps me here.


    "Ethan?" Tarin caws, hopping closer. "You can help?"


    "I don''t know." My voice is terse. I''ve been banking on Temporal Fragment for this, and I''m only now realizing that I just haven''t really planned enough. Even if I use the Mirror and strengthen the connection I can make with Rotar and Ikaara ¡ª which is the only one of the Mirror''s reflections I think could work in this situation ¡ª I don''t know that it''ll give me enough to restore both Rotar and Ikaara. Or even one of them.


    But there''s no way to know for sure except to try. Inspect is silent on this one.


    I pull the trigger, and the Inspiration surges within me.


    Inspirations are fundamentally different from skills in a way that''s always been hard to articulate. Now, with a slightly deeper understanding of Firmament and layering, I''m able to see a little bit more of what it does. The change it invokes onto the Firmament happens underneath the surface layer of Firmament. The Inspiration is almost like... a filter. A lens that acts upon the deeper layers, twisting and changing its underlying nature, giving it new shape and form and power.


    Temporal Fragment burns an angry red within me. Connect, I tell it; I nudge at the part of the skill that resonates with anything out-of-sync with time, the same part of the skill that called me to the harpies, that called me to Ahkelios. The movement is initially slow and sluggish, reluctant ¡ª but the Mirror makes it surge forward, bright and strong and eager.


    I make a connection. Firmament wraps around something impossible and intangible, a moment out of sync with time. Rotar.


    It''s... a miscalculation.


    The first thing that happens with a connection forged through Temporal Fragment is a flood of memories. This time, altered and affected by the Mirror, the memories that rush towards me are fragmented and incomplete.


    The Mirror is tainted with my own memories, my own emotions. Strength from the Mirror comes from my angriest moments ¡ª and so when it reaches Rotar, those are all the memories that rush toward me.


    I see Rotar shouting at an assistant in a lab, the background indistinct and blurry compared to the sharp focus on him and his assistant. Rotar''s feathers are disheveled. The coat he''s wearing is stained with splotches of dark brown fluid.


    I see Rotar sitting alone at his desk. There''s a deep, burning frustration deep within him; the papers scattered in front of him show diagrams that are utterly unintelligible to me ¡ª and unintelligible to him, too, if the crushed-up pile of papers is any indication. There''s a shattered mug lying next to him, glass and ceramic just scattered messily on his table.


    I see Rotar burning with fury. He punches a wall hard enough that I think he might have cracked the bones in his wing. His assistant cowers before him. Her face is blurred and out of sync with the memory; she''s not the source of his anger, just the person he''s taking his anger out on.


    And then... rejection.


    That part is Rotar. Temporal Fragment bridges the gap between us, forming a bond that''s not unlike the one I share with Ahkelios, though this one is tinged with the Mirror''s angry red. Through that bond, I can feel a vague impression of his state of mind, his thoughts, his feelings...


    He''s angry, and that anger has nothing to do with the Mirror.


    I can''t blame him. His Firmament rails against the connection that Temporal Fragment tries to form, fighting against it in a combination of instinct or self preservation ¡ª I pull it back just as hurriedly, because I know with a sudden certainty that if I allow this, the connection will be tainted. It will create an echo of Rotar cobbled together from his worst frustrations and angriest moments. It will create an echo of Rotar that is wrong.


    The Mirror falls apart. The Inspiration falters. The skill ends.


    I stare at Rotar''s frozen body, breathing heavily. The Mirror still takes something deep out of me. I can''t imagine my Firmament would look like anything close to coherent if I examined its layers now.


    "I''m sorry," I say, feeling suddenly drained from more than just using the Inspiration. "I don''t think I can get them out. We''ll need to figure something else out."


    Tarin looks crestfallen. Miktik looks... a little sick. Guard is largely impassive, though I sense sweeping waves of Firmament emanating from him ¡ª he''s scanning the Fracture for anything that might attack us.


    I''m not completely out of options. Maybe if I stayed here for long enough, threw myself at the problem for long enough ¡ª if I rotated through every Inspiration and skill combination I have...


    But even then, it''s just a maybe. We need something else. A different solution, or a new skill. Maybe an upgraded version of Temporal Fragment, if I can roll it again.


    We''ll figure something else out, and we''ll come back for Rotar. If he''s gone in the next loop, Miktik should be able to find him again. Nothing here is permanent. I open my mouth to say we should retreat.


    But before I can say a word, Guard collapses.

 83 — Book 2, Chapter 20 — When Youre Having Fun

    If not for Quicken Mind, I might have spent a few too many seconds staring, dumbfounded. I can sense no outside Firmament at work here, and Premonition hasn''t alerted me to any new danger. Whatever just happened, it''s something specific to Guard.


    I just don''t know what it is.


    I do know his Firmament is running rampant within his body. He twitches and jerks on the ground as power so thick it''s almost liquid pours out of him, pooling on the ground as puddles of purple light. Tarin and Miktik both take a step back, Miktik''s antennae waving cautiously and Tarin''s wings held up in front of him defensively.


    My thoughts are racing. Maybe this is related to the Fracture somehow. If I''m right, and Guard is the reason the Fracture exploded early ¡ª if he somehow accelerated the anomaly just by being here ¡ª then this could be a part of how.


    And there''s also the fact that part of me feels sympathetic, I suppose. There''s too much I don''t know about Guard for me to put him in the same irredeemable category as Whisper. There are too many hints that he''s not entirely in control of himself, like so many people around her.


    "Guard?" I ask. He twitches a little at the sound of his name, but that''s the extent of the response I get. I reach out cautiously, touching his shoulder and gently rolling him over so I can take a better look at him.


    He looks... dead. There''s only the faintest thrum of Firmament left inside of him, flickering weakly, like a flame about to falter and die. None of it is the immensely dense and powerful purple Firmament that normally powers his body. Instead, it''s a smaller, multicolored core ¡ª the same color I see peeking through the purple every so often.


    There just isn''t enough of it here to power the body.


    Before I can try anything else, though, the liquid Firmament around him starts to move. This time, I do take a cautious step back, and I watch as small shapes begin to form out of the Firmament. These shapes almost look like miniature versions of him, though they''re small and faded and weak.


    I pause. Mechanical Remnants? It would fit. I''d need to kill one of them to be sure, and I''m not convinced that''s a good idea¡ª


    One of the little Firmament shadows launches itself at me before I can complete the thought, and I bat it out of the sky with an instinctive combination of Barrier and Crystallized Strength.


    [ You have defeated a Mechanical Remnant (Rank F)! +5 Strength credits. +1 Reflex credit. ]


    I''m surprised I got anything out of it at all. But that confirms it, then ¡ª these are the things that were periodically dying. Whatever is happening now must have happened back when I knocked Guard into the Fracture, triggering a slow stream of these Mechanical Remnants to emerge from his leftover Firmament.


    Except this time there''s no blast of Firmament from the Fracture to explain why this happened to him at all.


    I look around, suddenly cautious. I realize that I''m being a bit too relaxed about the lack of warning from Premonition, the lack of sensation from Firmament Sense. Miktik and Tarin have good reason to be cautious.


    "Did anyone see what hit him?" I ask. Both Tarin and Miktik shake their heads, Tarin with a little more trepidation.


    And then as if in answer to the question, a swarm arrives.


    It''s hard to describe exactly what the swarm is of. It''s some kind of insect, certainly, but they''re closer to mutated lumps of flesh and chitin. A single long proboscis droops low below their bodies, swaying with the breeze. There''s an iridescent film that coats their bodies, too; it looks sticky. I see a few of them bump clumsily into each other and struggle to pull apart.


    They''re slow. They''d be slow even if I was facing them without the Interface and without the benefits of Quicken Mind and my various speed skills ¡ª they don''t move so much as drift vaguely in the same direction.


    Miktik collapses. Tarin caws with worry, moving to her side and shaking her to no response; I don''t need to look over at her to notice that her Firmament is fading, just like Guard''s. She''s dead, and she''s died without even a whisper of an attack. I didn''t see anything, and neither did Tarin.


    I need to figure out what''s happening. There are only two of us left now, and odds are good this loop is going to end soon. We could run, but with how little information we have, we could very well end up running directly into the thing that''s killing us.


    And I''m not sure I''d be able to convince Tarin to leave anyway. The old crow looks devastated.


    It''s related to the swarm. It has to be. They don''t look particularly threatening, and Premonition still isn''t triggering; I don''t know if that''s because they''re not attacking me specifically or because their vector of attack is some kind of blindspot in the workings of Premonition.


    Tarin cries out and staggers. He''s the only one so far that hasn''t been instantly downed ¡ª but his Firmament is suddenly weak and flickering.


    Enough. I know it has something to do with the swarm, and that''s all I need. I''ll figure out how this is happening afterwards. Firmament floods my body as I trigger my Speed skills and launch myself at the swarm; at the same time, I call on Ahkelios with a pulse of intent. Temporal Fragment triggers, and the mantis flickers into existence on my shoulder, his little eyes alert and landing almost immediately on the swarm.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    "Fight?" he asks.


    "Yep," I say.


    Impact.


    My fist crushes the first bug apart with almost no resistance. It''s disgusting, the way it splatters against my fingers; I call up the Amplification Gauntlet a second too late to protect me from the splash of its guts. The second one falls apart, too, and I grimace as it pops like a balloon, splattering warm viscera onto my face.


    [ You have killed a Time Fly (Rank A)! +1 Firmament credit. ]


    [ You have killed a Time Fly (Rank A)! +1 Firmament credit. ]


    Almost no reward, but... they''re Rank A. The lack of Firmament is probably just because there are so many of them, and they''re relatively easy to kill ¡ª but that makes the danger ranking all the more concerning. What makes them Rank A if they''re this easy to kill?


    Is the name a hint? Time. Whatever they''re doing is related to time. That might explain why Premonition isn''t triggering, why no one is reacting or responding before they''re killed. It might explain why Tarin lasted a little longer than the rest ¡ª why I''m the last one to be targeted. Tarin and I both have a little piece of the Interface within us that keeps us stable between loops. A small fragment of something temporal.


    I''m clearly not killing them fast enough, because I feel the last spark of Tarin''s Firmament fade away even as I''m fighting through the swarm. I can already feel something vital being drawn away from me. My body''s a little weaker than before, and my skills aren''t as bright. My Firmament is flagging.


    Premonition still hasn''t trigg¡ª


    There.


    There''s a spark from Premonition, but I notice something almost immediately wrong ¡ª this is warning me that Guard is about to get attacked. My gaze darts to the automaton''s body, lying still on the ground, and then jumps to the cloud of flies hovering just above him.


    Not above him. They form the outline of him. It''s where he was standing a minute ago.


    They''re attacking backwards through time. That''s why Premonition isn''t triggering ¡ª the effect is happening before the cause. I see something vital get sucked out of thin air and into the flies surrounding Guard, get a brief sense of barrier and separation and protection through my Firmament sense.


    They pulled out something vital from him?


    They descend around Miktik next. I wonder what will happen if I manage to kill them before they manage to kill her. And I try, I really do. But even though I''m conscious, even though I can think... I can''t move.


    I get the faint impression of a single large proboscis stabbing into my stomach. There''s nothing there, of course. I reach for my only Temporal skill ¡ª Temporal Fragment ¡ª and I can feel something lying there, out of sync with time, sucking vitality away outside the boundaries of causality.


    Rude, I manage to think.


    [ You have died. ]


    <hr>


    Time Flies. It''s a pun.


    I stare up at the sky, expecting the mantis scythe to descend upon me any second. I''d welcome it, too. I don''t think it''d kill me, at this point ¡ª not if I use the right defensive skills, or even if I just flood Firmament into my head and neck to reinforce it, the way crows do ¡ª but it''d be a welcome distraction from the fact that the Interface has apparently chosen to name a deadly, causality-breaking plague after a pun.


    "Um... You okay, Ethan?" Ahkelios asks. He''s standing on my chest, and he waves his hands over my eyes, worried about my lack of response. When I blink, he looks relieved. "Oh, good. I thought you died."


    "Time Flies," I say out loud this time. "The Interface calls them Time Flies!"


    Ahkelios pauses, and when he speaks again, his tone is measured and careful. "I can see that this bothers you," he says. "But I''m gonna be honest, I have no idea why."


    I throw my hands up. "Time flies! It''s a pun based on a common Earth saying. Time flies when you''re having fun."


    "Oh." Ahkelios blinks. "I''m sorry for saying so, but I don''t think fighting those things was very fun."


    "That''s part of why I''m mad about it, yes," I grumble. I force myself to sit up ¡ª my body aches in strange ways, presumably because of whatever method of attack the Time Flies use. My Firmament feels a little more unstable than it should, and I briefly hope that Tarin hasn''t been affected in some deeper way due to his connection with the loop.


    If nothing else, Whisper probably didn''t get to see much of my abilities, considering Guard was the first one that died. She certainly wouldn''t have had the time to send anything back to herself, even if she wanted to.


    "Hey, aren''t we supposed to get attacked here?" Ahkelios looks around. "Where''s the... uh... scary version of me?"


    I snort a little at Ahkelios'' phrasing. "I have no idea," I admit. "But you absorbed something from it last time. Maybe it can''t come back each loop anymore."


    In fact, as I say it, I''m convinced that that''s exactly what happened. Ahkelios has absorbed a piece of that Broken Horror into himself ¡ª that piece of him no longer belongs to the loop, or to the Interface. It''s been restored to him.


    For his part, Ahkelios looks thoughtful. "We should find the others," he says. "There are gonna be other pieces of me lying around, right? Maybe higher ranked ones?"


    He sounds a little hopeful at the last part. I narrow my eyes at him, though my tone is playful. "Why do you want higher ranked ones?"


    "I was pretty strong before I died, I''m pretty sure," Ahkelios says. He puffs out his chest. "If I get those fragments, maybe I''ll be even stronger! Also, I''m kind of offended that the only me-variant we''ve seen attack you is a Rank F monster."


    I can''t help but laugh. "I feel like you glossed over a lot of deeply horrifying things in those sentences."


    "I went through the loops too," Ahkelios says seriously. "Trust me, glossing over deeply horrifying things is a skill you need to develop."


    He''s... probably not wrong about that. I shake my head, smiling in spite of myself. "Come on," I say. "Let''s go find Tarin."


    "Can we find some moss first?"


    I chuckle. "Sure."


    It''ll be a good opportunity to bank some of my credits.

 84 — Book 2, Chapter 21 — Stressful Choices

    There''s a certain amount of existential horror that comes with having your allies picked off right in front of you, with little you can do about it. In that sense, Ahkelios is right ¡ª being able to shrug things off is an important skill for someone looping through time.


    My thoughts flicker back to the moment every so often, but I''m doing a pretty decent job of not focusing on it, I think. Best to think about the next loop. Best to think about how to counter them.


    More likely than not, that involves spending my Firmament credits.


    We''re wandering around the area just near the designated spawn point for the moment, Ahkelios so he can search for his moss and me so I have time to look over my status and think about how to spend my credits.


    [ Status:


    Name: Ethan


    Strength Skills: Crystallized Strength (Rank C), Concentrated Power (Rank B), Amplification Gauntlet (Rank A)


    Durability Skills: Tough Body (Rank E), Barrier (Rank D), Crystallized Barrier (Rank C), Hexfold Shield (Rank C), Second Wind (Rank B), Verdant Armor (Rank A)


    Reflex Skills: Quicken Mind (Rank B), Inspect (Rank B), Compounded Mind (Rank B), Iron Mind (Rank A)


    Speed Skills: Triplestep (Rank E), Accelerate (Rank C), Firestep (Rank C), Flashstep (Rank B), Intrinsic Lightning (Rank A), Lightning Rod (Rank A), Warpstep (Rank A)


    Firmament Skills: Firmament Manipulation (Rank D), Temporal Fragment (Rank D), Color Drain (Rank C), Tetrachromacy (Rank C)


    Inspirations:


    The Mirror Twice Shattered (Firmament, Unique)


    The All-Seeing Eye (Reflex, Rank A)


    The Void (Strength, Rank Unknown)


    The Accelerator (Speed, Rank A)


    Open Dungeons:


    The Empty City (Rank S)


    Credit Distribution:


    Strength: 268 (179 banked)


    Durability: 487 (84 banked)


    Reflex: 103 (360 banked)


    Speed: 178 (273 banked)


    Firmament: 120 (256 banked) ]


    I grimace a little at how close Durability is to the five hundred credit mark I''ve been hoping for. Thirteen points away. If I''d taken a few more hits, let myself be smacked around a few more times...


    ...Or maybe I shouldn''t let the time loop turn me into a masochist.


    Right now, the obvious thing to bank is Firmament. I don''t have any other way to handle the Time Flies ¡ª or any of the other dangers the deeper Fracture holds, if those flies are any indication. Firmament has always rewarded me with a skill based on what I''ve recently been through, so now''s the best time to bank the credits. Wait too long, and I might get a skill in moss-picking instead.


    [ Are you sure you wish to bank 120 Firmament credits? ]


    [ 120 Firmament credits banked! Rolling for results... ]


    [ CRITICAL ROLL. ]


    My breath catches. It''s been a while since I''ve seen this. And it''s happening for the Firmament category in paticular.


    [ Critical Bonus! All existing Firmament skills will be improved. ]


    [ Firmament Manipulation (Rank D) has evolved to Firmament Control (Rank C)! ]


    [ Temporal Fragment (Rank C) has evolved to Temporal Link (Rank B)! ]


    [ Color Drain (Rank C) has evolved to Hueshift (Rank B)! ]


    [ Tetrachromacy (Rank C) has evolved to Firmament Sight (Rank B)! ]


    [ Select between:


    CRIT: Time Punch (Rank B) ¡ª> Timestrike (Rank A) ]


    CRIT: Temporal Sense (Rank B) ¡ª> Temporal Sight (Rank A) ]


    CRIT: Whispered Promise (Rank B) ¡ª> Whispering Seal (Rank A) ]


    CRIT: Sealsight (Rank B) ¡ª> Sealsink (Rank A) ]


    I''m glad I got the crit. I really am. But I''m also at least a little annoyed, because... all of these skills are useful. There''s no easy choice here.


    Well, there is one easy choice ¡ª I have no interest in Whispering Seal. Inspect tells me it''s similar to whatever skill Whisper uses to impose her Whispers onto her city; it''s a skill that takes a whispered command and turns it into a seal of Firmament that punishes those who disobey. There are far, far more limitations on it than on the version Whisper has. For one thing, Whispering Seal can only be used on one person at a time, and it only lasts for a few hours before the command dissipates.


    I''d consider taking it on the grounds that I might learn more about her skill and defenses against it, but I have better options, and I do have a defense against it in Sealsink.


    I get the impression that Sealsink is an option only because Ahkelios caught sight of the device Miktik was using to absorb the consequences of her defiance of Whisper. It''s a Firmament sink of some kind ¡ª whatever punishment Whisper tried to inflict on her was diverted to it instead. Sealsink acts in much the same way; it allows me to create a Firmament construct that will absorb the consequences of me breaking any seals that are placed on me.


    With commensurate consequences if the construct breaks, of course.


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Timestrike is amusingly simple in comparison. It''s a direct counter to the Time Flies, presumably offered because I encountered and had to fight them. A Temporal Strike allows me to basically punch into the future.


    It''s an incredible skill for many reasons other than just fighting the Time Flies. It allows me to completely blindside someone with a hit, for one thing, as long as I can maneuver them into the right direction. Like a few of my other skills, though, it''s a skill that requires setup and planning. Or really good maneuvering.


    Temporal Sight is the weirdest of the four. The skill''s name gave me the impression that it might allow me to look into the past or the future, which is so stunningly powerful that if that was actually its function I would choose it without a second thought ¡ª but that''s not what Inspect tells me.


    Inspect says that Temporal Sight will allow me to "see areas of high temporal stress".


    I don''t know what this means, and the Interface refuses to elaborate. The idea that high temporal stress is a possibility at all is... deeply concerning to me, and I can''t help but think that if they exist, then I should have the ability to see them. Especially if there''s a chance they might interfere with my loop.


    "Ahkelios," I say out loud, and the little mantis snaps to attention from his little moss-hunt. I laugh at the mock-salute he throws me. "Just a quick question, and then you can go back to your hunt. Do you know what temporal stress is?"


    The mantis man frowns, some of his cheer bleeding away as he thinks. I feel a bit of a strain on Temporal ¡ª Temporal Link now, I guess. The link we share draws a little more Firmament from me as he subconsciously taps into the Interface. Upgraded as the skill is, I can actually feel that process this time.


    "I don''t... not know what it is," he says slowly. "I think I''ve encountered it before. An area of high temporal stress is... a place you''ve made too many changes in too many times.


    "As loopers, we cause some amount of temporal stress just by existing. Tarin does, too, now that he remembers. That doesn''t pose much of a problem now, and it won''t pose much of a problem for the foreseeable future ¡ª but across enough loops, if different things happen every loop, you start causing stress in that particular part of space and time."


    Seeing my worried expression, Ahkelios hurries to reassure me. "It''s not something you have to worry about right now. It takes hundreds of loops to even start seeing the effects of temporal stress, and basically a thousand before it starts being dangerous, unless you''re really stressing out the timeline."


    "What exactly do you mean by dangerous?" I ask. "What does temporal stress look like? I''ve got a skill that will let me see it, and I''m not sure if I need to take it."


    "I don''t think you need to take it right now," Ahkelios says slowly, though he says it with far more hesitation than I would like. "You''ll notice the signs of temporal stress once it starts happening. Things will be different that shouldn''t be different. People will be missing."


    I stare at Ahkelios. "Like the things that are happening right now?"


    "No, no," Ahkelios says, and then he pauses. "Well... yes. But different. You''ll see temporal... glitches? People rewinding or skipping ahead to their futures. Patches of dirt that are way, way older than everything around them. That kind of thing. The differences you''ve been experiencing are just because you''re a really, really weird Trialgoer."


    I groan. "I can''t be that weird."


    Ahkelios stares at me. "You''ve had more complications in two loops than I had across three hundred," he says plainly. "My memory isn''t perfect, but I remember spending three hundred loops trying to get past one of the monsters guarding the exit. You''re really weird, Ethan."


    Of course I am. "I''m going to take that as a compliment."


    "It is!" Ahkelios says cheerfully. "It means you might actually beat this Trial."


    He''s... got a point, there.


    It doesn''t sound like Temporal Sight is going to be useful for me for the foreseeable future. There might come a time where I''ll need it to avoid areas of high temporal stress, or something, but from what Ahkelios has said nothing I''ve done so far should have stressed the loop enough that it''s a pressing concern.


    That leaves me with Timestrike and Sealsink. Timestrike will give me the ability to actually deal with the Time Flies, eliminating what''s arguably one of the biggest dangers in the Fracture and allowing me access to Rotar without risking the entire loop ¡ª assuming Rotar''s stayed in the same location and hasn''t strayed.


    As a bonus, Timestrike will remain useful afterward. It''s not like the Time Flies are going to be the only threat it''ll be useful against.


    Sealsink gives me the ability to deal with one of the Hestian Trialgoers. It won''t do anything but that, unless I encounter other threats that apply some kind of Firmament seal, and while I don''t discount that possibility I can''t pick it just because of it.


    It''s just that Whisper is a big threat. Guard being under her command is just as much of one ¡ª his ability to deal with Rank A monsters like they''re just chump change is frightening. Tarin''s role when they fought together was mostly as a distraction, pulling attention away from Guard with his sheer speed rather than directly contributing to damage.


    "Timestrike or Sealsink," I mutter out loud, and Ahkelios, of course, perks up and looks over at me.


    "A skill that lets you punch the future or a skill that lets you get past She-Who-Whispers?" he asks. I nod, and he continues, "why not get Timestrike? We have access to something that does what Sealsink does ¡ª Miktik made one. We can just ask her for help."


    ...Well, he''s got me there. Timestrike it is.


    [ Timestrike (Rank A) obtained! ]


    "Hopefully that''s the right choice," I mutter. The rest of my skills already feel different ¡ª Temporal Link makes my bond with Ahkelios stronger, Firmament Control allows me to manipulate the Firmament around me even more deftly and with greater force, which I hope will help me with imbuement...


    I haven''t tested Hueshift. But Firmament Sight being an upgrade to Tetrachromacy makes a surprising amount of sense, and while it''s not the same as my ability to detect Firmament all around me, it does give me a whole new dimension to explore as far as Firmament goes.


    "I''m ready!" Ahkelios announces. He''s holding a handful of moss. I stare at him, wondering how he''s balancing all of it between his arms ¡ª it doesn''t exactly look like a coherent pile of moss as much as him just grabbing random handfuls of plant matter and shoveling it into his arms.


    "You need help carrying that?" I ask, amused.


    His face brightens. "Can you help?"


    I shrug. "Let''s find out."


    I have an idea. With Firmament Control and Temporal Link, I might be able to add a permanent modification to Ahkelios'' Firmament form ¡ª I just need to integrate whatever I craft out of Firmament into the Link. I call both of skills up in my mind, feeling for the bond between me and Ahkelios and feeling the shape of Firmament within.


    And then, using Firmament Control, I begin to weave.


    It''s remarkably intuitive, presumably because I don''t need to worry about actual sewing or stitching. All I need to do is force the Firmament into the shape of a satchel, and then nudge that shape into the link that binds me with Ahkelios.


    The process is intuitive, like it''s a natural function that I''ve only just discovered. There''s... a lot I could potentially do with this, I think.


    Ahkelios, with no access to my thoughts without me pushing them through the new link, just looks delighted, and begins shoveling his moss into the makeshift satchel I''ve provided him.

 85— Book 2, Chapter 22 — Bird Problem

    The next problem I need to deal with is getting to Tarin without having to fight all the Guilty Chimeras in the way. Or, alternatively, I could fight them, and earn myself the commensurate credits. I''m so close to my next Durability upgrade I can almost taste it.


    I''m in the midst of convincing myself to fight at least one chimera when Tarin shows up, charging into the clearing with blistering speed. There''s a trail of black lightning that cascades behind him and at least two cracked trees that I can see.


    I blink.


    "Ethan!" Tarin declares. "You here!"


    "Well, yes, I haven''t had the chance to leave yet," I say, slightly amused. This wasn''t even the plan ¡ª we were supposed to meet up back in the village. Tarin just waves me off, starting to pace around in a circle.


    "We lose!" he says. "I not sure what we fight. Bug things? I remember I see bug things. But I not remember how I got hit."


    "Time Flies, according to the Interface," I say dryly. I''m still having trouble with the Interface''s chosen name for them. "Apparently they attack through time, draining the Firmament of their targets. Which is why none of us could defend against it."


    Tarin stares at me. It''s the most shocked I''ve ever seen him look ¡ª his beak hangs open slightly. "Cheaters," he finally manages after a moment, scowling. "Of course they cheat."


    I laugh a little at this mirror to Tarin''s words about the Raid on the crow village, which feels like it was ages ago. Tarin caws at me with irritation, flapping his wings. "Why you laugh!"


    "You said something very similar, once," I say with a small smile. "You don''t remember?"


    "What?" Tarin looks confused, and then he snaps his talons. "Oh! Yes! Harpies! They also cheaters. Interface cheat."


    "By that definition, I''m also a cheater."


    "Yes. But you good cheater." Tarin resumes pacing. "How we fight flies?"


    The question takes me back to what I''ve been doing. "I''ve got something that''ll work against them," I say, flexing my fingers. I haven''t actually tested Timestrike. "Or it should. It lets me punch into the future. As long as I know where they''re going to be..."


    Tarin stares at me, taking a moment to process what I''ve just said. After a moment, he gives up, throwing his wings into the air. "Interface stupid," he declares. "I not see you for five minutes and suddenly you can punch future!"


    "Yep," Ahkelios suddenly chimes in from his position atop my head. "Interface stupid. I can''t believe it didn''t give me future punching."


    I sigh. I have a feeling neither of these two are going to let me live that down for a while. "We should figure out what to do next," I say, changing the subject. "I think we need to find Miktik again."


    Tarin''s expression darkens. "I not sure I want involve her. She... not deserve what happen."


    "I know that." My voice is sympathetic. "But she''s already involved. She-Who-Whispers uses her to build... more iterations of Guard, I guess. And she''s got something that lets her fight the Whispers."


    "Oh," Tarin says. It''s a blank sort of sound, at first, like he''s processing. Then he grins wide. "That like Miktik. She find way to fight."


    I nod. "If we go back to Isthanok, we have to get to her first. We might be able to borrow her... I don''t know what she calls it. It''s some kind of Firmament sink."


    We discuss things a little further, and the plan is set. Head to Isthanok, bypass the Chimeras ¡ª because apparently riling them up too much will make the crows'' hunting territory that much more dangerous ¡ª and get help from Miktik.


    We should probably figure out whatever''s going on with Guard, too.


    <hr>


    "How do you know about that?"


    Miktik''s suspicious. Of course she''s suspicious. I suppress my groan ¡ª I remembered to tell Tarin not to get into the whole Trialgoer thing, but I didn''t realize he was going to burst in and ask about the Firmament sink right off the bat.


    "A little more discretion, please, Tarin?" I ask tiredly. "You need to be more careful. We don''t want to waste everything we''ve done so far because of one wrong word."


    Tarin shakes his head, and his expression is surprisingly serious. He isn''t just blowing me off or barging ahead. There''s something else on his mind? "Miktik," he says. "You not understand. Whisper... Whisper hurt you."


    Oh.


    I look a little closer at Tarin. His wings are trembling slightly, and there''s a sharpness in his eyes, a near-invisible crackle of black Firmament that jumps between his feathers. He''s breathing a little faster and heavier than he normally is.


    He''s angry.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    He doesn''t get angry very often. I''ve seen him determined, I''ve seen him desperate, and I''ve seen him goof off. The closest I''ve ever seen him to angry is when he''s talking about Naru.


    This isn''t about him being reckless at all. This is because he watched his friend die in front of him. It''s because he saw what Whisper did to her and didn''t get the opportunity to talk about it. He''s not stupid ¡ª he''s never been stupid, really, as much as he wears his goofiness and obsession with training as a mask ¡ª and right now he''s got a lot of pent-up worry and concern about his friend...


    I should have asked how he was doing.


    Miktik''s reaction is unexpected. She takes several steps back from Tarin, her legs scurrying beneath her body, and I can see her beginning to curl up defensively. It''s a reflex response ¡ª she doesn''t believe she''s in any real danger ¡ª but it''s pretty telling.


    "...How do you know about that?" she asks softly.


    "I just know," Tarin says. He steps forward, and this time Miktik doesn''t step away, and leans into it when he hugs her. The scene is, in all honesty, a little awkward; Miktik''s species clearly isn''t built for hugging. But she seems to appreciate it. "Why you not tell us? We help. We take you back with us. Our home also yours!"


    Miktik looks away. "Miktik can''t," she says emphatically. There''s a distinct anxiety in the way she shuffles about on her feet. "She-Who-Whispers has... she has something Miktik made. An AI core. Miktik can''t leave it with her."


    Right, that. I frown a little at the reminder. "Miktik," I say slowly. "Do you know anything about He-Who-Guards?"


    "The automaton that helps enforce Whisper''s rules?" Miktik looks confused. "What about him?"


    "He''s an AI of some kind, too, right?" I press. "I got to speak to him for a while. There''s something strange about him."


    "The iterations of him that patrol the city are usually hiding, and I''ve never had a chance to talk to him." Miktik''s antennae wave about as if in agitation, but she''s a little less nervous now, at least. "Do you think She-Who-Whispers¡ª?"


    "I don''t know," I say.


    There are too many unanswered questions about Whisper and Guard, still. Miktik''s privacy imbuements aren''t powerful enough for me to want to risk talking about investigating them, but I make a quiet, mental note: there''s more going on in this city than is apparent on the surface. I need to figure out what.


    Miktik is silent for a moment. "...I don''t know how you two know all this," Miktik says after a moment. "But I''m guessing you have a Firmament power that''s kind of like mine? You can track things down, maybe watch things from afar?"


    That''s... about as close as I can get without saying I travel through time. "Something like that," I say reservedly, and Tarin thankfully doesn''t burst in to explain the time loop.


    "The Firmament sink I use is still in development." Miktik sighs, unstrapping something from a near-invisible line around the middle segment of her body. It''s a small, triangular device that lets out a beep as it detaches from her, and she holds it up for us to look at. "It''s not very stable. I have to replace it every couple of days. I really want to know how you knew about it."


    Miktik is trustworthy. I know she''s trustworthy, because I just watched her get roasted because she refused to tell Whisper anything else she knew about us. But that makes me more reluctant to tell her, if anything; if she hadn''t known anything, maybe Whisper wouldn''t have blamed her for keeping a secret.


    "We can''t tell you." It takes a moment to come to that decision, and I hope it''s the right one. "Do you have more? Could we borrow a couple of them from you?"


    Miktik shakes her head rapidly. "Miktik can''t afford to make more," she says, her limbs shifting about on the floor in a way I recognize as nervous. "The components are too expensive, especially since I have to keep replacing them. I''ll get a shipment in to build one tomorrow, but this one will be burnt out by then."


    I grimace. "Is there any way we can help? Or at least watch the process?" I ask. Miktik''s skills don''t lie with imbuement, exactly; it''s the reason she needed Tarin''s help to fix the regulator. Her workshop is full of Firmament-powered machinery and her ability to maintain it is limited compared to her talent at building. "Maybe we can find a way to improve it."


    Miktik goes silent. I see her glancing towards the regulator I know she needs fixed ¡ª I wonder if she''s thinking the same thing I am. "Miktik isn''t sure. You might be able to help! You can take a look at this one, if you want."


    I exchange glances with Tarin, then approach the Firmament sink that Miktik''s holding out to me. It''s not until I have it in my hands that I''m able to sense exactly how complicated it is.


    Part of it, I think, is that the individual components are complicated. Miktik mentioned that the components were hard to get and expensive ¡ª and I can see why. It looks like there''s some sort of power source in the center that''s made out of some kind of plant, and that plant has a complex network of Firmament that stretched out through the device.


    The rest of it is a lot of different regulators, as far as I can tell. I''m not nearly practiced enough with imbuement to be able to discern their exact purpose, but there''s some similarity in their construction to the regulator Miktik showed us in the previous loop. The plant-thing in the center pulls at every bit of Firmament around it in a way that''s not unlike the Void, though I don''t sense any of that present in the device.


    Instead, it does this by creating tiny vortexes of Firmament. The regulators are present largely to help identify what type of Firmament it should draw in, and then there''s a final regulator just below the plant matter that I think serves as the actual sink part of the device. I can sense the few stray pieces of Firmament that wander in being converted into heat and light through a complex array of Firmament.


    Well, into heat and light Firmament, but it''s pretty much the same thing. The regulators prevent those types of Firmament from being reabsorbed.


    I frown. That''s an immediate issue, isn''t it?


    "Doesn''t Whisper use heat-aligned Firmament as the punishment for disobeying a Whisper?" I ask. "It''s not completely the same, so it''ll still grab some of it, but... this thing won''t be able to absorb the full backlash."


    "That''s intentional," Miktik says. "It can''t absorb the full backlash or the whole thing would explode immediately."


    Ah. Yep, that sounds like a problem. The whole thing is a little too complicated for me to work with right now, but... I think back to my skill imbuements, and consider my upgraded skill, Hueshift.


    I might be able to do something. It''s just too bad I don''t have any material to work with here ¡ª it looks like everything in Miktik''s shop is meant for mechanical builds, not imbuements.


    "You don''t happen to have any stones that are good for imbuements, do you?" I ask.


    Miktik tilts her head. "No?" she says hesitantly. "But there are a bunch of stones at the Craven Arena, if you want to compete there."


    "Oh!" Tarin quips. "That place we make bets! Ethan good fighter!"


    "You''ve been there?" Miktik seems confused. "I don''t remember hearing about someone like him in the Arena..."


    "Don''t worry about it," I say, shaking my head.

 86— Book 2, Chapter 23 — Thys and Thaht

    Once Miktik confirms that Rotar is still in the same place within the Fracture ¡ª the process is much faster when we have a general location to give her ¡ª we head off to the Arena. It''s early enough in the day that it isn''t particularly crowded this time. I''m a little apprehensive about joining. I don''t want to draw attention from Whisper or any of her goons, but she doesn''t have any reason to keep an eye on me right now.


    Probably. As long as she hasn''t sent a message back to herself about the whole thing.


    ...Maybe I should be a little cautious.


    I''m not going to be so cautious that I do nothing the whole loop, though. I want to plan ahead using information from the last loop, but I''m not actually sure who the contestants are going to be. Last time, we arrived at the Arena close to the end of the day; this time, it''s barely past noon, judging by the position of the sun. My opponents are going to be entirely different.


    From what we heard during registration, they''re going to be harder, too. The clerks at registration were pretty open about that, and not in a good way. In the sense that neither of them would stop laughing while explaining that the afternoon was reserved for veteran fighters.


    I convinced them to let me in. I can be very persuasive.


    Look, I''m not going to claim that in the limited time I''ve been on Hestia I''ve grown enough to fight the veterans of Isthanok¡ª


    ¡ªNo, I''m going to claim that. It''s a little arrogant, but what are they gonna do, kill me?


    <hr>


    "I mean, what''re they gonna do, kill you?" Ahkelios says, sitting cross-legged on my head. I''m staring up at a construct that''s two stories tall. Its shell is practically glowing with Firmament, and I can see the lines of different imbuements running through every limb, every attachment.


    "Yes actually," I say, gritting my teeth. I use Warpstep to carry me out of the range of a particularly large explosion of Firmament. Crystallized Strength isn''t enough to punch through the armor of this thing, and as far as I can tell, the pilot is on the inside, so I can''t specifically target them. Not unless I Warpstep inside the construct itself, and the shield of Firmament seems to prevent that, pushing the stream of Firmament that Warpstep uses to the side and forcing a misaligned teleport.


    This is, for the record, also the first time I''ve experienced a misaligned teleport like this. It''s an incredibly disconcerting experience, and the nausea nearly cost me the loop.


    So I''ve definitely been a little arrogant, but in my defense... I did win two matches before this. It''s not like I completely messed up.


    "Had enough?" the pilot calls out from within the construct, and I stay silent, my mind rapidly working for a solution. I don''t want to throw out all my skills just to beat this one construct ¡ª I''m sure I could, if I stacked an Inspiration and my usual combination of Speed and Strength skills ¡ª but I don''t want to give Whisper too much information about what I can do.


    That''s also the reason I haven''t tried Amplification Gauntlet. That''s an obvious Interface skill if I''ve ever seen one.


    But I also don''t want to lose.


    What else can I do?


    I leap out of the way of yet another strike, this time just using Triplestep to carry me out of the path in time; the construct''s slowing down, too. It takes a tremendous amount of Firmament to power the thing, and I imagine it''ll wear itself out before long ¡ª but I don''t think I can wait that long. The rounds run on a timer, and the time I have is running out.


    ...Time.


    I pause.


    This is going to require very, very precise timing.


    I launch myself into the air and launch a Timestrike at the exact level of the construct''s chest; my hand blurs, fueled by temporal Firmament and doing something strange to the fabric of Firmament around me. I don''t have the time to parse exactly what''s happening ¡ª everything is moving too quickly, even with the assistance of Quicken Mind ¡ª and I have to Warpstep away to avoid the construct''s punch.


    I gaze warily at it, hopping a few steps back, trying to angle the construct just right. Its pilot turns towards me, and I can just hear the smirk in his voice. "Nowhere to run," he says playfully. "Nowhere to hide."


    I should probably mention that he introduced himself as Deathclaw Bloodseeker, and the way he speaks during combat is not unlike Thys''s performance when I fought him in the last loop. He''s putting up a show.


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    "Come get me, then," I say.


    I need him to take a few more steps forward. I''ve angled my Timestrike at the exact chest level of the construct, because I''m pretty sure that''s where the pilot is hiding. I''ve timed it to go off in exactly thirty seconds, because it''s only forty seconds until the round ends, and that''s my all-or-nothing move.


    Now I just need the construct to move into the right position...


    It takes another step forward. I note its alignment, and launch myself up to meet the construct right in the air.


    I take a blow almost immediately, but it''s an intentional one. Tough Body and a few Barriers placed around my body let me shrug off most of the impact, and I latch on to the fist that was swung at me. Triplestep sends me running up the arm and towards its head, though I nearly slip a few times, my footing not as sure as I''d like it to be on the slick surface of the metal.


    Five more seconds.


    The construct isn''t moving, presumably because it''s waiting to see what happens. Every blow I''ve tried to land against it in the past has failed, so the pilot has no reason to believe that this one will be different.


    And also because I already got it to punch itself one time with this strategy. That was the first time I used Warpstep.


    I kick the construct in the head. I''m not really expecting it to do anything, even though I charge it with Crystallized Strength, just in case ¡ª and it does, indeed, not do anything.


    My Timestrike does, though.


    There''s a thud, and then a loud yelp from inside the construct. "Hey!"


    <hr>


    So I lost that fight.


    The kobold that comes out to greet me afterward looks a lot like Thys, but is very clearly not Thys. He''s also a lot grumpier, which is probably fair; the Timestrike I used apparently hit him in a rather... sensitive spot for kobolds. Honestly, all things considered, he''s being rather cordial.


    "Sorry about that," I say again. "I just kind of missed."


    Timestrike, as it turns out, is difficult to aim.


    "One hell of a miss," the kobold says. He grumbles a few more times, mostly under his breath, and then does the strange finger-twist salute that I remember Thys using. "Name''s Thaht."


    "Ethan," I say automatically. I remember what Thys told me about his family ¡ª they all pretend to be the same kobold, at least to the registration clerks. "I thought Deathclaw Bloodseeker was in the late afternoon bracket?"


    Thaht glances at me, scanning me up and down. I get the feeling he''s evaluating me. "Deathclaw Bloodseeker is ranked according to the equipment he brings in to test, generally. Sometimes he''s placed in multiple brackets if he''s there to test two different setups. It''s more efficient that way."


    "Makes sense." He''s surprisingly open about the whole thing. "Doesn''t that get tiring, though?"


    "Eh. We switch out kobolds. No one ever realizes." Thaht shrugs. I breathe an internal sigh of relief; it''s much easier to navigate this conversation if I don''t have to hide that I know they swap in and out.


    "You''re being pretty open about it with me," I note. I get why Thys was open with me, but I didn''t exactly make a good first impression on Thaht.


    "Hiding it from the actual Arena challengers is usually pretty pointless, partly because Thys is terrible at keeping secrets and partly because most people figure it out from our fighting styles alone," Thaht says. "I''m not trusting you or anything."


    "Fair."


    Thaht sighs. "What was that, anyway?" he asks, his voice gruff. "We''ve been working on that construct for years. Takes a hard hit to get through that shell."


    "No kidding." I almost broke my fist on the thing the first time I punched it, and that was a mistake I wasn''t supposed to repeat. Only coating my fist in a Barrier at the last moment saved it. "It''s just something I''ve been working on. I used up the only bomb I made for it, though."


    I''m lying, but Thaht doesn''t need to know that. He still squints at me, looking vaguely suspicious, but mostly impressed. "I gotta say, we don''t see things that surprise us often," he says. "Don''t suppose we could get you to build for us?"


    "Who is ''us'', exactly?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.


    "Thys and Thaht," Thaht says, sweeping into a low bow. "It''s the shop my brothers and sisters run! Thys and I run it the most, though. I work on the big stuff, and Thys works on the little stuff. He''s usually in the arena testing new things a little later."


    That more or less confirms it ¡ª Thaht is Thys''s brother.


    I sigh to myself. Those names are going to get really confusing. Maybe I should come up with some nicknames before this gets really bad...


    Eh. I''m sure it''ll be fine.


    "Interesting," I say. Thys didn''t mention their shop, but then I didn''t really give him any reason to. "Do you mind if I drop by sometime? Take a look?"


    "We''d appreciate that!" Thaht brightens, the last of his sourness leaving his face as if the prospect of getting a new customer far outweighs the annoyance of getting punched between the legs. "We''re usually in the store at night. My brothers and sisters manage it during the day."


    I''m almost afraid to ask what their names are.


    "Are you open all hours?"


    "Nah, but we''ll get the store open for ya." Thaht grins at me. "Especially if you''re a paying customer. You''re gonna have some winnings from this, right?"


    "I might have a few chips," I say. Technically speaking, the Arena''s awards come in the form of points, depending on how well you''ve performed. The whole point of me participating in the Arena today was to get my hands on imbuement materials to try to build a better Firmament sink to counter Whisper, which means most of my points are going towards that.


    Whatever''s leftover I can throw at chips, but I suspect there won''t be a lot of them left.


    Fortunately, there''s still the chips from all the betting Tarin has been doing... as long as he didn''t go all in on my fight against Deathclaw Bloodseeker. "Do you ever actually lose when you use that thing?"


    "Eh. Only by timeout," Thaht says with a shrug. "We''re kind of the Arena champion when we use that construct."


    Well. Not the worst opponent to lose to, at least.


    I wonder what they need a construct that insanely powerful for. I can''t imagine it''s really just for the Arena, and I also can''t imagine that Whisper doesn''t know about it.


    It almost feels like it''s a military device instead of some hobby construct made by a family of kobolds.

 87— Book 2, Chapter 24 — Problems Back Home

    It turns out Tarin didn''t bet that I''d win against Deathclaw Bloodseeker''s massive construct.


    He did bet that I''d land at least one solid hit, and while it''s not at all obvious how I managed to hit him, the yelp from inside the construct still counts. So we''ve made a decent amount of chips, apparently. I can''t be sure because Tarin''s too busy cackling about it to actually tell me how much we made.


    Also, I don''t really have any context for the actual buying power of chips. I should probably check out Isthanok''s markets sometime. There''s just so much to do.


    We make our way to the prize-collection booth in the corner of the Arena, which is a remarkably dingy looking tent, considering the splendor of Isthanok and the grandiose nature of the Arena. It looks like it''s barely held together by flaps of old canvas, and I''m pretty sure there are actually a few holes torn into it.


    "People don''t come here for the prizes," someone says behind me.


    To my credit, I just jump slightly. Tarin does it so hard he smacks the person behind us with his wing. Twice. The second time on the way down.


    The person behind us is strangely dressed. It''s disturbingly similar to a ringmaster outfit that I''d expect to see on Earth ¡ª so much so I can''t help but wonder if this is somehow tied to the Integrators. If they''ve planted people on Hestia besides their Trialgoers to... what, facilitate the Trial?


    He''s also completely in shadow. There''s some kind of Firmament imbuement on him that keeps him cloaked in more darkness than should be possible, given the time of the day and the brightness of the sun. Everything beneath his hat turns pitch-black, with only the vaguest possible impression of faintly glowing eyes. I have no idea what species he is.


    He does a little finger-twist salute with his hands in greeting, completely ignoring Tarin smacking him in the face.


    "What do they come here for, then?" I can''t keep the skepticism out of my voice. Why participate in the Arena if not for the prizes?


    "The prizes used to be important," the new person says, walking past me and into the tent and gesturing for me to follow. "No longer. The Arena''s rewards have... hmm... lessened, for reasons that may or may not be associated with the whispers in the night."


    I raise an eyebrow. The roundabout way he''s saying that makes sense, with Whisper''s ability to listen in on the city, but it''s still pretty obvious what he''s saying.


    "What should I call you?"


    He makes a noncommittal noise. "The Ringmaster," he says. "My name isn''t important."


    I guess the outfit makes sense.


    The interior of the tent isn''t really much better than the exterior. All there really is inside is a rotting wooden desk with a random assortment of objects on them, a register that I assume is used for calculating points and dispensing chips, and a too-small bed in the corner.


    This whole thing is making me vaguely uncomfortable.


    "Why people fight if prizes not good?" Tarin questions. He''s taking in the tent just as I am, his eyes scanning the prize tent with the same amount of discomfort. He looks a little guilty for hitting the Ringmaster twice now.


    The Ringmaster glances up. "The Arena''s rewards have lessened," he says. There''s something questioning in his tone. "But the points that are earned in the Arena can also be exchanged for rewards in Isthanok''s military base. It''s common knowledge."


    So common no one saw fit to tell me, apparently, even though they told me about this little prize tent. Then again, I''m pretty sure those clerks were playing a joke on me, and the evening bracket didn''t reward any points.


    "Why is there a second place you can redeem Arena points?" I ask, my brows furrowing. "That seems... unnecessarily convoluted."


    Even before the Ringmaster replies, I''m pretty sure I know the answer. "Whisper decided to offer rewards for Arena points," he says. "I can''t really stop her."


    "Why?" Why would Whisper care about the points being awarded in the Craven Arena?


    The Ringmaster shrugs. He looks strangely reluctant to respond, and it takes me a minute to realize he''s probably not willing to give me any real answer. Not when Whisper can hear anything that goes on in the city.


    "I am sure she has her reasons," he says amicably. "Would you like to redeem your rewards from the Isthanok military instead? There are no obligations associated with the military if you do so."


    "No," I say automatically, and then I hesitate. "Are the rewards there that much better?"


    The Ringmaster nods. "The Isthanok military provides a number of Firmament-enhancing drugs and imbued artifacts," he says. "It outstrips most of what we can offer here, particularly since they''re offered to Arena participants at a loss."


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    At a loss? That doesn''t make me any more comfortable with using them. If anything, I''m even more concerned. Ahkelios'' rhythmic tapping on my head tells me he feels the same way, I''m assuming he''ll have something to tell me once we''re out of Whisper''s earshot.


    ...Which might take a while.


    "I think I''ll just look at what you have here first," I decide. I should check out Whisper''s rewards at some point, but not without taking some precautions, and not without a better understanding of how imbuements or these Firmament drugs work. Besides, I don''t need those right now ¡ª I need imbuement stones, to see if I can build my own Firmament sink. "Can you show me your imbuement stones?"


    The Ringmaster looks surprised, and then genuinely pleased, although it''s a little hard to read his body langauge through the shadows that obscure his face. "Sure. Here you go."


    And then, startling me deeply, an Interface screen pops up.


    [Arena Points: 172


    Shallow Fire Imbuement Stone (Rank F) ¡ª 20 AP


    Shallow Water Imbuement Stone (Rank F) ¡ª 20 AP


    Shallow Lightning Imbuement Stone (Rank F) ¡ª 30 AP


    Submerged Water Imbuement Stone (Rank E) ¡ª 40 AP


    Submerged Earth Imbuement Stone (Rank E) ¡ª 40 AP


    Submerged Air Imbuement Stone (Rank E) ¡ª 60 AP


    I stare at the screen. I don''t know how to respond, at first ¡ª it''s clear that whatever this reward system is, it''s linked to the Interface in some way. That''s a problem, considering I don''t want to reveal that I''m a Trialgoer.


    Almost as if he knows what I''m thinking, the Ringmaster nods at me. "Anything that happens in this tent stays in this tent," he says.


    And that simple line tells me one thing. He already knows.


    No point hiding it, then.


    "What are the different types of stones?" I ask.


    "We have elemental attunements based on the most common types of ambient Firmament, and each stone is ranked according to how deeply bound it is to its element. These three¡ª" the Ringmaster grabs three stones and scatters them onto the table "¡ª are shallow. The link sits only at the surface level of Firmament, and even then, the link is barely there. And these next three are submerged. It still binds only to the surface, but it binds to it completely."


    He drops another three stones onto the table, and I examine all six of them carefully. There''s a definite difference, along the lines of what the Ringmaster described. I can feel the way the Firmament anchors to the Shallow stones. It''s loose and pointed, almost like it''s pinned down only at certain points, similar to the knots the crows tie when they imbue things.


    The Submerged stones have their first layer of Firmament bonded entirely with the crystal, but the bond disappears if I look any deeper.


    For the first time, I think I''m starting to understand imbuement on a more fundamental level ¡ª and given the look in the Ringmaster''s eyes, he knows exactly what he''s telling me. He''s hinting at something?


    "Thank you," I say slowly. "I''ll take the Shallow Lightning stone, please."


    "Excellent choice," the Ringmaster says, his voice full of false cheer. "Enjoy your reward!"


    I have many questions. So does Tarin, if I''m reading the look on his face. But neither of us ask them. There''s something about the Ringmaster''s body language... it looks like he''s telling us to leave. Warning us.


    So we take our leave.


    As we walk back out of the Arena and towards Miktik''s workshop, I ponder my newfound insight into the nature of imbuement stones. Some materials are clearly more suited to imbuement than others, and this seems to be why; they have a natural layer of Firmament that''s already bonded to them, and any new Firmament I try to tie into it interacts with that Firmament.


    That means there are two reasons an object might be hard to imbue. One is that its inherent Firmament is limited ¡ª or "Shallow," if I''m to use the local terminology. That means that anything I attempt can slip loose easily, making it harder to create something that lasts.


    But the more deeply a material''s inherent Firmament is anchored, the harder it is to push my own Firmament into it. There''s more layers of complexity there. From the brief glimpse I was able to catch of the Submerged stones, I was able to see what looked like patterns of Firmament embedded into that first layer. An imbuement must therefore require that I work with that pattern, in some sense, at least in order to push my Firmament into it...


    "What you thinking?" Tarin asks me. He narrows his eyes. "You thinking too hard! Talk."


    I can''t help but snort at this. "What does that even mean, Tarin?"


    "You human think too much," he grumbles. "Should talk more! Then I know what you think. And can tell you if wrong. Or he can."


    Tarin gestures to Ahkelios, who has been silent until now, perched on my head and staring up into the sky contemplatively. He seems startled when Tarin suddenly references him. "Oh! Uh, I guess I can? I don''t know much about imbuement."


    Amused, I shake my head, and explain my newfound thoughts about imbuement as we walk the streets. He''s got a point ¡ª no reason not to share information, especially since he knows far more about imbuement than I do.


    It''s not long before he''s frowning, though.


    "Crow method for imbuement different," he says eventually. "We not sense Firmament like you. That why we use knots. But... maybe pattern method stronger? Should test."


    "I should''ve gotten more stones, then," I say dryly. "Not like I can''t afford them."


    "Next time we get more!" Tarin says firmly. "You buy more. I remind you."


    I laugh. "I don''t think I need a reminder, Tarin."


    "I remind you," he insists. I shake my head with a smile.


    Miktik isn''t in her workshop when we get there, but Tarin insists we can use it, so we make ourselves comfortable and I begin to examine the Lightning stone. The plan is to try to make an improved version of Miktik''s Firmament sink by imbuing the stone with Hueshift and using it as a Firmament converter.


    I''m not entirely sure if it''ll work. I haven''t had the chance to experiment much with Hueshift, let alone with imbuing it, and the addition of elemental Firmament to the imbuement stone is an unexpected layer of complexity on top of everything else.


    In theory, Hueshift will at least be able to affect the Firmament in some way. Inspect tells me it has the ability to change the color of Firmament, which sounds a lot less impressive than it is. Firmament color, after all, isn''t just its appearance. Considering what I''ve seen of Firestep, Color Drain and Tetrachromacy ¡ª not to mention the inherent effects of The Mirror Twice Shattered ¡ª it''s clear that the color of Firmament is just an expression of some other property of Firmament.


    "Tarin," I say, calling the old crow over. "I''m going to need your help. Can you tell me everything you know about Firmament types and their colors?"

 88— Book 2, Chapter 25 — Aspects and Colors

    "What you mean?" Tarin glances up at me.


    "There''s Firmament everywhere, and there are different aspects of Firmament. The imbuement stones are labeled with different aspects. Miktik''s Firmament sink converts one type of Firmament into two more harmless types. How many aspects are there? What do we know about each aspect?"


    Tarin frowns. "We not sense Firmament like you," he points out. "But Firmament in everything. All types, yes? Elements, but also abstract. Thought, shape, color."


    That makes sense. It''s more or less the same understanding that I have. Every single one of my skills has a completely unique aspect of Firmament, and even though the imbuement stones I saw seem to come in the more traditional elemental variations, I have no doubt there are stranger types out there.


    Hueshift can''t work directly with Firmament aspects, according to Inspect. I''m not convinced the limitations are quite as strict as the skill is trying to imply. There''s some link between aspect and color, even if that link is a little tenuous; if I can make the right changes, and make enough of them...


    Well, it''s all just theory for now. I''m hoping I can imbue this Lightning stone with some Hueshift Firmament and make it act as the Firmament converter needed in Miktik''s Firmament sinks. All I need to do is... program the stone to convert whatever type of Firmament the Whisper uses to punish disobedience into something more harmless.


    I snort at my own phrasing. All I need to do. I doubt the process is going to be simple.


    It''d be nice if Virin was here and I could talk to the crow about imbuement again, but he isn''t. I''ll have to remember to speak to him in the next loop. For now, I have some ideas I can try.


    "Ahkelios," I say. "Do you mind helping me out here? I need to test out Hueshift."


    "What do you want to do?" he asks, peering at me suspiciously.


    "I need a strong source of Firmament so I can see what I''m doing."


    "...And you want to try fiddling with me?"


    "Please don''t put it like that," I deadpan.


    Ahkelios folds his arms across his chest and glares at me before finally relenting. "Fine," he says, hopping up onto my knee. "Do you need me to do anything?"


    "Just stay still."


    Despite Ahkelios''s protests, changing his Firmament is relatively safe. I think. As much as Firmament seems to be tied to the mind of an individual, Ahkelios is a different case ¡ª his mind is stored within whatever part of my Firmament functions as the core for the Temporal Fragment skill. Or... Temporal Link now, I suppose. The Firmament he''s made of is closer to a puppet he uses to animate himself. Pure Temporal Link, zero Ahkelios.


    Well, a little bit of Ahkelios. But it''s an expression of him, not the core of him. Color, not aspect.


    Which is important. Temporal Echo was the first skill I''d ever gained, so it''s the type of Firmament I''m most familiar with. And when I reach for Hueshift, it gives me one simple requirement: to alter the color of Firmament, I must be familiar with it. I must know how to use it. The easier it is for me to manipulate, the easier for me to change its color. It isn''t impossible for me to manipulate Firmament I''m not familiar with, but it will be a lot harder.


    I reach for the skill. It feels the same as Color Drain, for the most part, but there''s something new added on to it. I can still feel its old ability to drain the ''color'' of something, but now there''s another mental lever and a little bit more depth and complexity to the Firmament the skill uses; I can feel what it''s going to do. Draw in Firmament, draining it from a target. Change its hue by altering it in some fundamental way. Send it back, if I choose to do so.


    Like Inspect tells me, it doesn''t change the fundamental aspect of Firmament I''m working with, just its color. The Mirror Inspiration does something quite similar, but it operates on a more fundamental level, changing the aspect itself into something more aligned with the emotion I''m using ¡ª hence the word ''mirror'', I suppose. It reflects the skill, changing it in subtle ways. Hueshift doesn''t do any of that.


    I take a moment to mentally target the Firmament that makes up Ahkelios''s body. I know the aspect well by now, and the color of it is expressed through his personality, another point of familiarity. We''re close enough that I understand him, at least to a degree. I feel the shape of his Firmament, the hue of it. His personality filters and colors my Firmament, turning it into something brighter. A sky-blue hope and joy, speckled with a playful yellow.


    Hueshift.


    His form flickers and changes in color to the solid-green of envy, ironically making him look far more like a traditional mantis. Ahkelios makes a noise of indignation and squirms around on my knee. "This is uncomfortable," he says.


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    "Is it affecting you?" I ask, worried despite myself. It shouldn''t have any effect on him.


    "No," he confirms, to my relief. "It just feels... not right. Like I''m wearing clothes that are a little too tight."


    I consider commenting on the fact that his species doesn''t seem to bother much with clothing, and decide not to. It''s probably a translation error.


    "I''ll reverse it," I say. It''s easier to shift the Firmament back in the other direction; it settles easily, like it''s just being pushed back into its natural shape.


    Hm.


    This gives me a better idea of what using Hueshift is like. It concentrates my Firmament on the part of my body closest to my target ¡ª in this case, my knee ¡ª then opens up into what feels like a jaw, clamping down around its target and drawing in its color before spitting out the new one.


    So all I need to do is...


    I hold the Lightning imbuement stone in my hand and activate Hueshift. I target the Lightning-aspect Firmament held within the rock itself first, keeping my Firmament senses alert as Hueshift travels up to my palm and begins to clamp down around it. With an effort of will, Firmament Control seizes those metaphorical jaws, stopping the skill in its tracks.


    I can''t imagine what trying to do that would have been like if I were still working with Firmament Manipulation instead of its upgraded counterpart.


    Then, still preventing the skill from completing, I begin to push it into the imbuement stone. It''s like Temporal Fragment was, in that sense, back when I imbued the stones Mari gave me. Some skills are easier to imbue than others, and I''m fortunate that Hueshift is one of them.


    Unfortunately, the Firmament I push into it almost immediately begins to leak back out.


    Imbuement stones ¡ª shallow or otherwise, though I don''t know what rank the ones Mari gave me to experiment with were ¡ª seem much easier to push a skill into, but by the same token, the stone releases that energy much more easily as well. Mari''s stones didn''t have that issue, but she did call them precious village artifacts.


    Which means my next step, the one I was hoping to avoid, is anchoring. It''s the part of imbuement I suck at the most. I''ve tried the tying-a-knot method the crows use, and that''s incredibly difficult for me to use, nor do I have the years that Mari implied it takes to learn it.


    So let''s try something new. Something of my own.


    I focus inward on my Firmament sense and block everything else out except for Hueshift and the Lightning stone.


    Electricity crackles across the surface of the stone, skipping past shallow pits and racing along the pores. The outermost layer of Firmament is a storm, impossible for the Hueshift Firmament to anchor to without interference; all that innate energy rips across it before it has the chance to settle, acting like a barrier.


    I dig the claws of Firmament Control into that surface layer of Lightning. With some effort ¡ª working on a single layer of Firmament is apparently harder than simply manipulating it as a whole ¡ª I search for weaknesses in that pattern of Firmament, then tear open a small hole. Then I flood that hole with Hueshift, allowing the stone''s inherent Firmament to close back up after it, sealing it within.


    In theory, anyway. I hold my breath as I let go of the reins. The stone sits in my hand for two seconds, three, four ¡ª but there''s no sign of Firmament leakage. No sign of the skill dissipating.


    I breathe a sigh of relief.


    "Did you do it?" Ahkelios asks, his eyes wide.


    "I think so," I say. It occurs to me, now that I''ve actually imbued the stone with Hueshift, that I still have no idea how to use it. The stone in theory should be capable of absorbing Firmament and altering its color, but... There''s no consciousness linked to that Firmament. No ability to choose what it does. I frown in thought.


    When I activated Hueshift, I was trying to change the stone''s inherent Firmament from yellow-Lightning to blue-Lightning. There was no particular reason for it at the time, but if it retains that programming, then this should work.


    I pull a thread of Firmament out from within myself and Hueshift it to yellow, then carefully feed it to the Lightning stone. If I''m right...


    The thread turns blue. Good. The Hueshift seems to work even if the aspect of Firmament isn''t the one I was targeting when I used the skill. That''s step one out of the way.


    Step two: I need this to work on Whisper''s geas skill.


    Fortunately, I still have the small piece of Firmament squirreled away from not one but two of her attempts to use that skill on me; one of them is still being chewed on by the Void, and the other is tucked away in a small part of my Firmament. I draw it out now, examining it with a critical mental eye. It''s not strong enough for me to visually see a color associated with it, so I tag it with Hueshift, feeling for a mental color instead of a physical one.


    It''s a dark black-green, Hueshift tells me. The color of grief and guilt, though why Whisper''s Firmament would be colored that way is beyond me. I can''t quite bring myself to care, either; whatever she''s feeling, it''s no excuse for what she''s inflicting on her citizens.


    Still, something to keep in mind. It''s information that might prove useful in the future.


    Changing the color of Firmament has proven to alter the efficacy and function of a skill, at least to a degree. There has to be a color that will ¡ª if not entirely neutralize ¡ª then at least minimize the effects of disobeying Whisper.


    I hesitate for only a moment, and then change the imbuement within the stone, reaching for a version of Hueshift that changes the black-green of her Firmament into a bright and sunny yellow. I thread the small fragment of her Firmament through the stone, watching as it changes subtly in my Firmament sense, and then...


    Well, and then I wrap her geas around myself again, as if she''d just used it on me. What was the command she''d used with this piece of Firmament again?


    Oh, right.


    Meet me in my palace in two hours.


    Seeing as it''s been long past two hours and I''ve never met her in her palace in this version of events...


    I feel a sharp, stabbing pain as the Firmament fragment reacts. It''s a small fragment ¡ª too small to do any significant damage ¡ª but it still hurts. I grit my teeth.


    I better get some Durability for this.

 89— Book 2, Chapter 26 — Sensory Delights

    It takes about an hour for me to hit upon something I think will work. It''s an hour well-spent, considering what it''s going to be used for, but... not a particularly enjoyable hour, I have to admit. Tarin and Ahkelios, initially sympathetic, got more and more amused as time went on. I don''t really blame them, but I grumble under my breath nevertheless.


    "You wouldn''t be smiling if you were the ones doing this," I mutter.


    "But I not," Tarin says smugly, folding his wings across his chest.


    "You could always take a break," Ahkelios suggests, relenting. I sigh.


    "I''m too close to getting it to work." I frown at the Firmament stone still held in my hands. The feedback from Whisper''s Firmament is nothing more than a dull ache now; the only problem is that I don''t know if that''s because I''ve gotten used to the pain, because the fragment''s been getting weaker, or because the Hueshift strategy is actually working.


    Maybe some combination of all three.


    The color that works is a royal purple that feels like pride and haughty narcissism ¡ª not unlike Whisper''s current self. It''s the reason I didn''t try this color until now; I didn''t think that making the Firmament more like her would somehow make it less effective. But it seems to work. The geas still feels restrictive, but not potentially debilitating.


    There''s probably a reason the color shift here works the way it does. Something to do with how the skill was born out of her guilt over something, and her current attitude, all haughty pride and arrogance and vanity, is just her way of coping with it. Maybe they''re natural emotional opposites. I don''t know. I never really studied psych.


    The point is, I''m pretty sure this will work well enough. Only one way to actually find out, though.


    "Hey," Ahkelios says, interrupting my thoughts. "Does anyone else think Miktik should''ve been back by now?"


    I pause, my thought process momentarily derailed with concern. Tarin frowns, folding his wings over one another and glancing up at the sky ¡ª in the general direction of Whisper''s castle.


    "We didn''t do things that different this loop," I mutter to myself. "Did we?"


    Our approach to Miktik was different, and I took a far more active role in the Craven Arena. We didn''t speak with Miktik about anything outside of her insulated workshop, though, so I doubt the first thing is what caught Whisper''s attention. Assuming that''s what happened.


    Did the Craven Arena draw her attention? But even if it had, there''s no reason for her to target Miktik, of all people. I''m pretty sure I didn''t mention her name outside her workshop.


    "Tarin," I say slowly. "You didn''t mention Miktik to anyone at the Arena, did you?"


    Tarin looks at me with an offended, indignant look. "No! I not stupid."


    "I know," I assure him. "Just checking."


    The third possibility is that the difference in Whisper''s actions have nothing to do with what''s changed about my loop, and she''s managed to get some information back to herself through the Interface. It''s the possibility I''m most worried about, and it seems like it''s the most likely possibility, too.


    I can think of a few places Miktik might be. There''s the Integrator scavenging site she mentioned, but she never told us where it was, and she told us it would take protective equipment to even enter safely. If she''s there, there''s nothing we can do to get to her.


    More likely, though, she''s been summoned to Whisper''s palace.


    "She didn''t leave a note for us or anything, did she?" I ask, glancing around the workshop. Might as well cover all my bases. I''d feel stupid if I went out looking and it turned out she''d left a note saying she was going on an extended trip or something.


    "I not see note." Tarin climbs up onto the workbench, peering at the shelves. I grimace a little as he balances precariously between all the gadgets scattered around on it. I''m pretty sure I hear at least one crunch, like something brittle and plastic being snapped apart. How Tarin managed to achieve that standing on a workbench full of metal gadgets I don''t know.


    "If she left us a note, I don''t think she would have stuffed it into her shelves, Tarin," I say dryly. Ahkelios makes a sound that is remarkably similar to a muffled giggle, and I nudge him with a finger, amused.


    I give the workshop a quick sweep. Nothing really seems to stand out ¡ª no signs of a struggle, nothing broken beyond whatever it is Tarin stepped on, and no paper or data slate a note might be written on.


    Then I see something that makes me frown.


    "Miktik''s pocket oracle," I say out loud, walking over to the shelf where it''s sitting innocently out in the open. She wouldn''t have just left it like this. I''m pretty sure it''s one of the most precious things she owns, considering her reaction when Whisper damaged it. When she first pulled it out, she was keeping it on her person. Why would it be on a shelf now?


    There''s something here I''m not seeing... so I suppose now''s as good a time as any to try out a new skill.


    Firmament Sight.


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    The world around me glows in subtle shades that were invisible to me only moments before, and I wince, shielding my eyes against the light. Miktik''s workshop is bright. The walls themselves glow with the privacy imbuement built into it, a rushing torrent of purple-yellow that streaks through the structure of the building and carries off any stray Firmament that comes into contact with it. The shelves are a multicolored array of orbs of light, every gadget shining with its own particular Firmament, some of which look terrifying ¡ª there''s one that''s oozing puddles of red onto the ground ¡ª and some of which look... well, slightly less terrifying.


    On the one hand, using this skill while working on the Hueshift stone would probably have been a good idea. I need to remember I have it. On the other... I''m sort of glad I didn''t use it now, because the rest of the workshop would have been very distracting.


    I sigh and take a moment to try to parse the blinding array of colors and Firmament before me. Nothing here is physically unusual, and my Firmament sense didn''t detect anything strange, either ¡ª but Firmament Sight unlocks a whole dimension to Firmament that''s normally quite difficult for me to detect. I can sense a ''color'' associated with a given strand of Firmament, but it''s much more difficult than just sensing its presence. Or even diving down through its layers.


    The point is that I can use Firmament Sight to look for disturbances I can''t otherwise see, and Miktik''s workshop is streaked with disturbances.


    It stands out. Muted yellow splashed across the workshop table like a bucket of paint spilled violently; traces of red streaked with a more vibrant yellow pulsing in the air, expanding and contracting in a way that looks a little too organic. Looking at it actually makes me physically uncomfortable, and I glance away after a moment.


    "I don''t think Miktik left her workshop willingly." She wouldn''t have had time to leave a note. Maybe an imprint, left behind in the Firmament? But she wouldn''t know about my ability to sense Firmament on this scale. How would she tell Tarin where she''s going?


    The old crow, as if sensing my thoughts, squawks impatiently. "We wasting time. She-Who-Whisper take her, yes?"


    "We don''t know that for sure."


    "Who else take her?" Tarin flaps his wings exasperatedly. "We go find Whisper. Even if Miktik not there, Whisper know. She hear things. She hear Miktik."


    He''s got a point there. Ahkelios repositions himself on my shoulder as I make my way back out of the workshop. "Alright, then. Whisper''s palace it is."


    <hr>


    Getting to the palace is a little easier said than done. We know where the ''entrance'' is ¡ª although it might as well be called a launchpad ¡ª but that entrance is guarded by two silverwisps. Flying up there with Firmament isn''t out of the question but would be particularly noticeable, and I''m not sure I want to find out what kind of defenses Whisper might have to shoot unwanted visitors out of the sky. She''s got a big, ostentatious launchpad for a reason. No doubt she wants people to use it.


    "Why do you think¡ª" Ahkelios begins, and then cuts himself off when I give him a reproachful look. "Oh. Right."


    Operational security. If we aren''t inside Miktik''s workshop, we have to assume Whisper is listening.


    Which is also an opportunity, and I''m counting on it to get us into her palace without kicking up too much of a fuss.


    We get to that isolated shrine and the two silverwisp guards standing in front of it, and this time, they bar our path. Firmament coalesces between them, forming a solid barrier between us and the entrance to the launchpad.


    I could break through it. It doesn''t look that strong. Tarin is clearly thinking the same thing, considering the way he''s looking contemptuously at the barrier, so I cut in before he''s able to just kick his way in.


    "We''re just looking for our friend," I say, trying to make myself sound as worried and frantic as possible. It''s not that hard; I am worried. "She-Who-Whispers might know where she is, right? I''ve heard she knows everything that happens in this city¡ª"


    "She-Who-Whispers cannot spare time to help every single wayward soul that comes her way," the guard informs me. There''s no inflection in his voice ¡ª no emotion ¡ª and now that I look more carefully, he''s missing the pendant that most silverwisps wear to convey emotional context.


    It makes his speaking cadence almost... creepy.


    "But I think she might know my friend." I inject a note of desperation into my voice. "Miktik ¡ª she''s an inventor that has her own workshop, I''m sure some of the stuff she''s built could be useful to She-Who-Whispers¡ª"


    The guard I''m talking to stiffens only a second or two after I mention Miktik''s name, and I hide the self-satisfied grin as he steps aside. "She will see you," the guard allows. "Be respectful. Do not waste her time."


    "I won''t," I assure him. I''m even telling the truth.


    For this loop, anyway.


    The journey up to her palace is largely the same. This time, as we soar through the air, I pay careful attention to the way Firmament flows up to the shard in the sky that carries her palace. Firmament Sight helps me in this ¡ª I see shades of color spiraling through the air, each tinted with a faint shade of joy or mirth or fear or despair.


    I wonder how Whisper can stand this. Is she listening to everything the entire city says, constantly? I''m sure some things slip past her. I wasn''t completely careful with my words in my first loop here, and she didn''t catch on until I was talking to Miktik.


    If I had to guess, I''d assume she has a skill that filters for certain words or topics of interest, and ignores everything else. But even then, Isthanok is massive. Filtering for a word like ''fracture'' would return thousands of hits. Whatever way I look at it, she''s listening to far more than any sane being should.


    Also, the whole invasion of privacy thing.


    She-Who-Whispers is waiting for us in her so-called throne room, and to my relief, I see Miktik beside her, looking none the worse for wear. A little fearful, with traces of yellow in her Firmament, but not hurt.


    And Whisper... her aura is tinged with red. She looks angry. The anger doesn''t seem to be directed at me or at Miktik, though, which confuses me ¡ª as do the flickers of fear-yellow in her Firmament.


    I''m suddenly a lot less sure of the whole ''she sent information back to the past and knows I''m a Trialgoer and that Miktik is involved'' theory.


    "So," She-Who-Whispers says. She controls her rage as she speaks, and manages to sound perfectly calm, with only the slightest tremor in her voice indicating her mood. "You two claim to know Miktik. I imagine you are the helpers she mentioned?"


    I notice Miktik nodding rapidly behind Whisper, and open my mouth to reply¡ª


    "We good helpers!" Tarin bursts in, puffing his chest out proudly. I blink and glance at him. Whisper looks a little bit stunned, too.


    Well, if Tarin wants to take charge here, I''ll gladly let him.


    Because I''m noticing that there''s something''s strange about the Firmament here, and I want to figure out what.

 90 — Book 2, Chapter 27 — Meeting

    Whisper was exhausted.


    She was exhausted because she had been manually controlling all of He-Who-Guards''s bodies... she couldn''t even remember how long it had been. She was exhausted because she had not been able to sleep, to pause for a break, to do anything besides exert perfect, unassailable control over the myriad of automatons patrolling all of Isthanok.


    She could do it. She could. She had the power and the strength and the skill, and her mind was quick enough to handle the sensory overload. She''d been bathing in sensory overload ever since she acquired Whispers on the Wind, so it wasn''t like this was anything new.


    But she''d underestimated exactly how much He-Who-Guards''s new nature as a construct aided him in exerting simultaneous control over all of his bodies. She wasn''t used to having her perception split across so many different points ¡ª wasn''t used to experiencing hundreds of hours worth of experiences in just a few real-time hours. She felt like it had been weeks.


    It had, in fact, been two days. That realization was when she''d decided to call for Miktik. When she decided to... to ask for help.


    There was a part of her recoiling in disgust at the very idea, but her exhaustion prevailed in the end. This situation was not sustainable, nor did she enjoy wasting so much of her time and Firmament on this illusion of normalcy.


    And yet even Miktik had no idea what was wrong with He-Who-Guards. According to the little inventor, he was perfectly fine; there was nothing wrong with any of the components on his main body.


    Has the Trial already started? she wondered. She was hoping she''d have more time. But surely this couldn''t be related to the Trial ¡ª she''d told the Integrators that He-Who-Guards was off-limits. No permanent harm was to come to him.


    It wouldn''t be the first time they''ve lied to you, a little voice whispered inside her, and she ignored it.


    She was good at ignoring that voice now.


    She could check if she''d recorded any information for herself, but... no. She''d have to give up some of her hard-earned credits to do that, and she had no intention of losing them. Not when the other Hestian Trialgoers were all still active, and not while there was a new Trialgoer to contend with. He would have little to no chance of standing against any of them, of course, but considering the nature of his Trial, he might not be so new anymore.


    All of that was moot, though. She had a far greater concern. She-Who-Whispers shook her head and stared at the automaton in front of her.


    Anyone less familiar with He-Who-Guards might not realize that there was anything wrong; he was still powered, and the Firmament that cycled through it seemed healthy.


    Yet he didn''t speak. Not even when she commanded it. He didn''t respond to any of her attempts at speaking to him or controlling him. Every one of his bodies that normally patrolled Isthanok were left without anyone to control them, forcing her to take up the reins herself.


    The countless threads of Whispers on the Wind suddenly reverberated, her Firmament catching on something relevant, and her attention snapped to it.


    Miktik ¡ª she''s an inventor that has her own workshop, I''m sure some of the stuff she''s built could be useful to She-Who-Whispers¡ª


    A new voice.


    She-Who-Whispers narrowed her eyes. Not just a new voice ¡ª a new voice that knew her mechanic. What were the odds of that?


    "Let them in," she says with a Whisper. Her Firmament carried her words to her guards far below.


    Maybe she would spend a few credits to check on her Interface reports.


    <hr>


    "We help Miktik fix parts," Tarin elaborates. He seems to have the situation handled ¡ª Whisper''s a little thrown off her usual game, for whatever reason, and that combined with Tarin''s usual boisterous nature is enough for him to take control of the conversation. "You need help?"


    "I am investigating a problem," She-Who-Whispers says smoothly.


    I''m paying attention to what they''re saying, but only just. There''s a faint trace of Firmament I''m trying to track through my senses. Firmament Sight doesn''t help me here, unfortunately. Whisper''s castle is so flooded with it that what I see is just a blinding array of different colors streaking in and out of every window, with Whisper herself acting as a central point that most of it converges on. It''s hard to spot an anomaly in the midst of all that noise.


    Feeling for an anomaly with my Firmament sense, though? That''s a different matter.


    I focus on the small trace of Firmament that''s pinging strangely on my senses. It doesn''t feel like what Whisper uses to listen in on everyone, nor does it feel like the ambient Firmament that''s present everywhere. It feels... it feels a little like Guard, but something about it is twisted.


    I frown. Not unlike when Tarin was caught in a coma when the Interface tried to destroy him after the raid on his village. But nothing like that happened to Guard this time; as far as I know, he was killed by the Time Flies, just the same way Miktik, Tarin and I were.


    Is there something that makes him different?


    He''s been killed in the Fracture before, and it''s clear his original death didn''t affect him this way. If there''s something different, it has to either be something about the way the Interface treats him changing, or some facet of the Time Flies that hurt him more than the Firmament explosions that resulted in his first death.


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    "This sound like doctor problem," Tarin says in the background, his tone doubtful. He folds his wings across his chest. "Why you not call doctor?"


    "It is a mechanical problem," Whisper bites out. Seems like she''s losing her patience.


    I try to follow my senses to wherever Guard is. He''s not anywhere near Whisper''s... throne room, for lack of a better word. He''s somewhere above this area, in what feels like a specialized room full of strange Firmament¡ª


    It occurs to me that this is much, much farther than I''ve been able to stretch my Firmament sense before. I frown. An effect of my phase shift?


    Anyway. Not important for the moment. I close my eyes, trying to focus on what I can identify about Guard and the room he''s in; as far as I can tell, it''s a laboratory that''s scattered with... Firmament samples? There are little pockets of Firmament that all feel like Guard''s, and then a larger, Guard-shaped pocket that I assume is Guard himself. He''s been laid down, completely unmoving.


    I don''t sense the usual veil of purple Firmament around him. Strange.


    "Is there something wrong with your companion?" Whisper asks, sounding irritated. Tarin smacks one of my arms with a wing and I snap my eyes open, scowling and rubbing my elbow.


    "My apologies," I say. "I didn''t get much sleep last night."


    I''m not even sure when the last time I slept was. Maybe time loops aren''t all that good for you.


    Whisper doesn''t bother commenting on this. I get the feeling that she would normally punish me much more severely for my perceived rudeness, but she''s thrown off her game at the moment ¡ª far more concerned about whatever''s happened with Guard than she is about the Trial or the potential presence of a Trialgoer. If I had to guess, though, she at least suspects that this is related to the Trial in some way.


    "Stay here," Whisper instructs ¡ª no. Not just instructs. I feel the power of her skill seeping into her words, though this particular use of it is a little clumsier than the others. The Firmament going into it feels less well-shaped. If her normal use of it has her intent sharpened like a knife, in this one she''s wielding it like a hammer. Still dangerous, but far less refined.


    Seems like a good opportunity to test the modified Firmament sink.


    I haven''t actually combined the imbued stone with Miktik''s Firmament sink yet ¡ª I don''t know where she keeps the thing, and more likely than not it''s on her person right now. But the stone itself should still work. I just need to use Firmament Control to mimic what her Firmament sink would otherwise do...


    Her Firmament brushes against me. I close my eyes.


    She-Who-Whispers is gone, presumably to go get He-Who-Guards. That leaves me free to mess with her skill without basically doing it right in front of her. I wince at the sensation of her Firmament prying apart the layers of my own Firmament, trying to bury itself deep within. As much as I try, I can''t stop the skill altogether; there''s too much Firmament packed into it. It''s like trying to move a river.


    But I can redirect it.


    "Ahkelios," I say quietly, and he seems to recognize what I want him to do. His Firmament melds with mine just as he did when he reinforced my Amplifcation Gauntlet, except this time he does it in a way that seems to augment my Firmament Control skill. His will combines with my own, and together, we carve a channel for Whisper''s Firmament to flow down.


    A channel that leads right to the imbued stone in my pocket, of course.


    I have to bring up the Void Inspiration to help ¡ª the combined effort of Ahkelios and I is significant, but Whisper''s skill still threatens to break free from our grasp. With the Void''s influence on Firmament Control, however, the channel we create drags and pulls at the very essence of her skill, forcing it in the desired direction.


    So far so good. I''m not trying to prevent the skill from taking. I suspect if I did try that, I would fail entirely. Instead, I''m trying to make sure that when it settles into me, it settles in the way I choose. The output ¡ª the punishment for disobeying, as it were ¡ª needs to go to the stone instead of me.


    A trickle of sweat drips down the back of my neck. This is putting more strain on Firmament Control than it''s meant for. The structure of the skill is faltering.


    But it works, and I release the skill as soon as the new channels are set in place, heaving a slight sigh of relief.


    Tarin shoots me a suspicious look. I give him a thumbs up.


    Ahkelios reappears, extracting himself from my Firmament with a groan and flopping facefirst down on top of my head. "That was exhausting," he complains.


    "That cannot be a comfortable spot for you," I say, amused.


    "Don''t wanna move," he grumbles.


    ...Yeah, that makes sense. I''ve been there.


    Stretching my Firmament sense upward tells me Whisper''s still busy, so now is as good a time as any to test what disobeying her little trick will do with my imbued stone in effect. I take one step, and then two, feeling her geas start to protest. The Firmament within me begins to warm, and that warmth trickles down into the stone in my pocket...


    I keep walking.


    The warmth is uncomfortable, but it doesn''t burn. The pain is greatest where the stone is as my imbuement alters the color of her Firmament, dulling the pain and effectiveness of the skill. The discomfort is significant, don''t get me wrong, but¡ª


    Miktik is watching me, her eyes wide. I can tell she wants to say something and is only barely stopping herself; she knows anything she says will likely be overheard by Whisper. I consider her for a moment, then point to my pocket and pull out just the tip of the Lightning stone. The look she gives me sharpens abruptly and she nods in understanding.


    Silent communication. Come to think of it, if there''s any kind of rebel faction that''s against Whisper, they''d have to communicate silently, wouldn''t they? I wonder if the Interface can translate sign language.


    The pain sharpens to the point of being unbearable as I near the edge of the room, and the Firmament in the imbuement stone begins to fray and crack. The outermost layer ¡ª the layer that seals in my Hueshift Firmament ¡ª springs a leak, for lack of a better term; from that, pure Whisper in the Winds Firmament pours through, carving a burning path of pain into my skin. I grit my teeth.


    Then I take a few steps more just to prove that I can.


    The pain is debilitating, but it''s not impossible to overcome. There''s a small component of paralysis to it as well, so I can''t necessarily rely on my pain tolerance just to fight through it. If she uses this on me while I''m fighting, that second of delay fighting through the paralysis could very well be the difference between life and death.


    But it''s worth knowing that it''s not impossible. I stand a chance, no matter how small it is. It''s the perfect use for Compounded Mind, even. The skill that gives me a mental speed boost depending on how long I charge it for.


    ...I start burning that skill. Just in case.


    Then I make my way quickly back to my original spot, feeling the weight of the geas lessen with every step I take. I breathe a small sigh of relief when the pain finally fades entirely. The imbuement stone isn''t even ruined ¡ª the outermost layer of Firmament is slowly repairing itself, pulling in Firmament from the air to repair the fractures.


    My Firmament sense warns me that Whisper is approaching.


    "Come with me," she says, as soon as she steps into view. She looks worried. She hasn''t brought Guard with her, either.


    ...Hm.

 91 — Book 2, Chapter 28 — Laboratory

    I''m pretty sure Whisper is planning to kill us.


    Mostly because she''s leading us directly to Guard in that secret laboratory of hers. As far as I can tell, his body hasn''t moved. I think she tried to move him, judging by the traces of unusual. Interface-tainted Firmament around him. I also think she failed.


    Which is concerning in its own right, but I''m really more worried about the fact that she''s bringing us to her secret laboratory. Am I supposed to believe she''s going to let us leave after this?


    Her steps are stilted and awkward, hurried. She''s itching to use a skill ¡ª I can sense the Firmament within her churning in response to both her emotional state and to her aborted attempts at activating a skill. Hueshift detects traces of red and yellow within her Firmament, some combination of anger and fear and adrenaline, and once again I''m left to wonder exactly what He-Who-Guards means to her.


    There''s a set of stairs hidden behind her throne, built with an angled frame so that it''s impossible to see without walking right up to the throne and looking around it. There''s nothing keeping it secure otherwise ¡ª no barriers, no hidden traps. Not as far as I can tell, anyway. The Firmament here is still and silent.


    In fact, not even the threads of the Whisper skill are present here. I frown slightly, looking at She-Who-Whispers and at the absence of Firmament around her. Does this mean she deafens herself every time she comes in here? That means she has periods of time when she can''t listen in on everyone. I could use that, if I could figure out a schedule for when she usually visits this lab.


    The stairs lead up to a crystalline door embedded into the walls of her castle. I watch as she reaches out, bringing a complicated knot of Firmament to a fingertip and tracing it along the edges of the door. From what I can tell, it''s a really complicated Firmament lock of some kind ¡ª her Firmament unravels and interlocks with an imbuement on the edges of the door, allowing her to just... peel it back. Like she''s unzipping a piece of the wall from itself.


    I''m not going to lie, it''s fascinating to watch.


    Ahkelios leans forward like he''s paying special attention to the zipper-lock, and I focus my gaze past Whisper and into the laboratory Guard is being kept in. Where my Firmament sense wasn''t able to capture much detail while I was downstairs, I''m now able to simply see for myself. This room is a laboratory, but it also looks like the inside of a hospital. Half of this equipment is medical equipment.


    I frown. There''s no sign of anyone that needs medical attention here. Guard''s body is pure machinery and none of it is hooked up to him.


    "This is the problem I described," Whisper says, her voice terse. She gestures to Guard, who is lying face-up on a crystalline table; I notice with some alarm that pieces of the table appear to have grown into him. Or maybe he''s growing into the table. It''s hard to tell. Metal joins with crystal in a seamless transition that doesn''t even look like it should be physically possible.


    I''m pretty sure Whisper didn''t describe anything like this, but I''m not about to say that out loud.


    "There''s nothing wrong with him physically," Miktik says. I glance at her in disbelief, and she quickly clarifies. "The... corruption that you''re seeing is surface-level. It doesn''t meld with any of his critical systems."


    "Do not concern yourselves with the way he melds with the crystal." Whisper''s tone is terse. "I want to know why he isn''t able to move or speak. Can you help or not?"


    "I might be able to," I say cautiously. I step forward. Whisper doesn''t stop me, although she does narrow her eyes at me as I pass her by. The resolution of my Firmament sense isn''t very good from all the way downstairs, but now that I''m right next to him...


    Geez. His Firmament is a mess. How did it get this way? Tarin and I didn''t get nearly this messed up, and Miktik''s completely fine. What''s different about Guard?


    "His Firmament unstable," Tarin says, folding his wings across his chest. I glance at him ¡ª he''s echoing the words he said to me when we first met. "That why he not wake up. Firmament problem."


    "So I surmised," Whisper says. Her voice is cold. "And the solution?"


    "It not easy to fix unstable Firmament." Tarin flicks a wing at me as if to tell me to hurry up and examine Guard, and I do so, sweeping my Firmament sense across his body. Up close, it''s easy to tell what''s wrong. There''s a whole chunk of layer ripped loose from his Firmament, leaving the deeper layers raw and exposed.


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    I remember what I noticed back when we first met ¡ª the purple Firmament that swirled in his core, and the glimpses of multicolored light flickering through every so often. Now the latter is all that''s left. The only traces of purple are lingering fragments and broken threads.


    The strength of his Firmament is also noticeably weaker. It pulses and fades in and out, almost like...


    "Is he dying?" I say out loud. More to myself than anything ¡ª but I flinch as Whisper''s Firmament suddenly flares, strong enough to visibly manifest as a red-tinged warp in the air hovering above her skin.


    "No." Her voice is hard as steel. For a moment, I worry that she''s going to reach out and try to strangle me, but she holds herself back. She stares at me, her gaze sharp. "Explain why you think he is."


    Her tone leaves no room for argument, though I notice she doesn''t use her Whisper on me. "His Firmament is weak," I say. "It keeps flickering. Fading. I know Tarin said it was unstable, but it''s more than just unstable, it''s..."


    It''s hard to describe exactly what happens with Whisper as I say this. Silverwisps don''t show their emotions visibly. The silver-gray smoke they''re made of doesn''t do much to help them convey what they''re feeling; it''s the reason they wear those little collars with displays on them. It allows them to convey emotional context.


    Whisper doesn''t use the standard-issue collar. She uses a pendant decorated like a pearl necklace, with a tiny, teardrop-shaped display hanging from the bottom. The display doesn''t change.


    And yet I feel the raw intensity of her emotional response to this. From the way both Tarin and Miktik flinch, I''m guessing they feel it too. Grief, rage and fear strangle each other all at once, an outpouring of emotion so strong Miktik''s legs fail her. Tarin sways on his feet, and for the first time, I feel the Iron Mind skill I bought kick in, shielding me from the strength of it.


    I sway on my feet anyway, mimicking Tarin''s reaction. No need for Whisper to know the tricks I have up my sleeve.


    Then ¡ª just like that ¡ª it''s over. The intense wave of emotional Firmament fades into nothing, and on the surface, Whisper is once more the picture of perfect calm. "I see," is all she says. She seems to consider saying something more, but then she stops.


    Premonition activates, screaming danger. A split second later, I feel a surge of Firmament, the hairs on my skin standing up in response to the sheer energy. More by instinct than anything else, I release Compounded Mind, letting the Firmament I''ve packed into the skill accelerate my perception tenfold. I haven''t had a lot of time to charge it, but fortunately Whisper doesn''t seem to be going for speed. Just overwhelming power.


    A pulse of deadly Firmament radiates out from her. She''s already turning to Guard as she does this. I can see her glancing toward her notes, and I put the pieces together.


    She''s realized what''s happening to Guard, and she''s decided she doesn''t need us anymore.


    Interesting.


    <hr>


    He-Who-Guards was dying.


    That was the only thing She-Who-Whispers understood from what the strange creature told her. She had never seen his like before, and if she was in a better state of mind, she might have been more suspicious of him. But none of that mattered to her ¡ª he had confirmed her worst fears.


    Somehow, the izkran was back, or at the very least her fix had somehow failed. He-Who-Guards was now in the state he had been in years ago, when the disease had ravaged his Firmament base and stripped it down to almost nothing. If it hadn''t been for the Trials, she wouldn''t have been able to save him at all. Even with all the power she gained from it, the best she could do was give him a half-life.


    She glanced at her notes. At everything she''d done to try to save him.


    Miktik''s AI core helped. The inventor didn''t realize what she''d made. It wasn''t just an AI core; it functioned as a kind of cognitive prosthetic, propping up everything that He-Who-Guards had lost.


    (A small part of her whispers that even with all that, He-Who-Guards is not himself. That the Firmament she used to patch him up is controlling him so that he cannot protest. A small part of her knows he would disapprove. But she''s long since learned to silence those parts of herself.)


    She had the information she needed now. If all that was happening was that her stabilizing FIrmament had been ripped off of him, then all she had to do was reapply it. But she couldn''t have anyone that had seen Guard like this just roaming around in the streets.


    Her options were to kill them or to use Whisper in the Winds to force them into silence.


    Miktik she knew she could intimidate into silence ¡ª but these two others, Miktik''s so-called ''helpers''... there was something up with them. The crow was too confident, and the other creature clearly had an uncanny talent for detecting Firmament. This wasn''t something she''d heard that the ''humans'' as the Integrators called them could do, but...


    Hm.


    The idea of using her credits on intuition alone stung, but she''d already used some to check and hadn''t caught any messages left by her presumed past self. If she was right, and this creature was the Trialgoer, this was her chance to find out from the very beginning of one of the Trial''s loops.


    [ To updt: Miktik helper ¡ª tg? ]


    The message had to be short. The longer the message, the more credits it would cost her. The idea was simple; she would kill this creature. If time continued normally, then it was not the Trialgoer, and she would update her log with a ''no''. If she didn''t update the log at all, then she would know that the ''Miktik helper'' was the Trialgoer. Not the most descriptive message, but it would have to do.


    And as for how she would kill them... a Focused Blast would do. Simple and effective. The creature didn''t have a chance of resisting her level of Firmament ¡ª if it did, it wouldn''t have been so affected by her temporary loss of control.


    She charged up her skill and fired.

 92 — Book 2, Chapter 29 — Gauging Your Enemies

    I might only have charged up Compounded Mind for a while, but it''s surprisingly effective. Whisper''s Firmament buildup is slow, maybe because she isn''t expecting me to be able to get away in time or maybe just because it''s the nature of the skill she''s using. Either way, with Compounded Mind running, I have about thirty seconds of perspective-shifted time to figure out what I want to do.


    Do I let her kill me? If I try to escape, she''ll almost certainly know I''m the Trialgoer; I won''t be able to do that without using several skills. Allowing myself to die here leaves me with the information advantage, in theory.


    Faking my death is an option, but the problem there is that I don''t know what skill she''s using. The only way I could fake my death is if she''s going to outright vaporize me with her Firmament. Warpstep right as the skill hits me and I''ll be safe.


    Think.


    This loop has mostly been an exploratory one. I''ve learned a bit about Whisper''s abilities and the culture of Isthanok, and I''ve gotten a head start on the opponents I have to face if I choose to fight in the Craven Arena. I know how to get my hands on imbuement stones, although¡ª


    Right. That''s actually a good reason to reset this loop. The stone I have now will work, but not nearly as effectively as Mari''s stones might, if I can get her to lend them to me. Even if I can''t, I can at least run my discoveries about imbuement past Virin and see if he has any insights on improving my process.


    It feels a bit like a waste to just let myself die, though. Maybe I should find out how well I can hold up against Whisper, first? If I keep her busy enough, she won''t have time to send herself a message. All I need to do is to let Ahkelios rail me through the head once I''ve gotten a good gauge of her abilities.


    He''ll probably be fine with that. It''s not like he hasn''t outright told me he''d do it if it was necessary before.


    ...Am I really doing this?


    I am.


    Let''s take a risk for once. I need to gauge where I am on the power scale. I don''t think Naru is a good example, considering his state of mind and the situation when we fought... and by the looks of things, Whisper isn''t in an ideal state of mind, either. But it''s better than nothing.


    Verdant Armor''s brilliant green Firmament sprouts from my skin and settles as a suit of armor around my body. I take advantage of the time Compounded Mind gives me to layer six casts of Hexfold Shield, stacking it on top of itself in front of me. A Crystalline Barrier forms just behind it, strengthened from repeated uses into a rock-solid layer of jagged Firmament.


    The effect of Compounded Mind fades, and Whisper''s Firmament twists into effect. The strength of her Firmament warps the air around it, somehow darkening the room despite its intense glow. I see her eyes widen slightly in surprise.


    She didn''t even consider that I might try to fight back. There''s a realization there, but I don''t have the time to ponder it. Her Firmament slams into my Hexfold Shield and shatters it instantly. It lasers into the Crystalline Barrier behind it, and that lasts for a moment longer; the crystalline nature of it appears to reflect and refract her Firmament, but even then, it''s cracking.


    Yeah, I''m not letting that hit me. Warpstep.


    I reappear next to her, an Amplification Gauntlet already materializing on my arm. Ahkelios seems to have gotten the idea, and I feel him drawing on my Firmament, turning into a brighter and brighter spark of fiery energy. Miktik''s retreated into the corner ¡ª it''s clear she''s not a fighter by any means ¡ª but Tarin has managed to gather himself and is looking warily at Whisper for an opportunity to attack.


    Whisper does not react in time. But she doesn''t have to.


    The Amplifcation Gauntlet strikes a barrier of Firmament, the force of the impact ringing out like a gong; the sound is a solid barrier of force powerful enough to send me flying back. For a moment, I consider using an Inspiration, but I''m not trying to win, and I don''t want to show all my cards in case she does manage to send a message to herself somehow.


    "Trialgoer." Whisper finally speaks. She doesn''t sound angry or surprised, so she must have at least suspected it. "Your strength is surprising. How many loops has it been? Fifty?"


    She makes a gesture as if to pull up the Interface¡ª


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    I can''t give her the time.


    I rocket toward her, this time pouring Crystallized Strength and Triplestep into the blow on top of the Amplification Gauntlet; I see her eyes narrowing slightly as she readies herself to take the blow. This time, the Firmament barrier she uses cracks. I feel the solidity of her Firmament give way for just a second before she steps back, and she must have used a skill of some kind, because that single step carries her to the other side of the room.


    "You will be still," she Whispers. I feel the Firmament wrap around me, and immediately grab for it with Firmament Control. It''s a struggle to get it into the right alignment, but I try not to reveal the effort it takes.


    "Ahkelios," I hiss under my breath. I need him to be a distraction while I work through the geas.


    The little mantis doesn''t need any more instruction than that ¡ª he''s been readying himself ever since he realized what I was trying to do. He shoots off my shoulder, aiming directly for Whisper''s head, and at the same time Tarin takes the opportunity to blast toward her. Black lightning flickers along his feathers as he crosses the room in the space of a breath, reinforced wings extended for a strike.


    I hear a loud crack.


    Whatever happens either happens too quickly for me to see it or isn''t something I can see. I can feel that her Firmament has done something strange, but I can''t tell exactly what. The next thing I know, Tarin''s been sent flying backward, his right wing very clearly broken and his left one mangled.


    Ahkelios isn''t having much luck, either. Whisper''s retaliation tears at the link he shares with me, threatening to cut off his source of Firmament entirely; his form flickers briefly before he regains control. His mandibles spread wide before he turns into a streak of Firmament again, launching himself at her like a bullet.


    She doesn''t even bother directly striking back. Her barrier deflects him, causing him to crash painfully into the wall. Tarin, meanwhile, can barely move from his spot on the ground ¡ª I see him fighting through the pain, trying to stand.


    I grit my teeth and work faster. Firmament Control finally clicks her geas into place, channeling its energy into the stone in my pocket.


    "Strong," Whisper notes, walking up to me. Her Firmament begins to fade ¡ª she clearly considers the fight to be over ¡ª and she regards me curiously. "But weak of mind. Are you afraid to move?"


    "No." My words are curt and veiled with anger. I discreetly test the limits of her command, moving first a finger, then a toe, and then shifting on my feet to see just how much I''m allowed to move before the pain begins to kick in. There is some give to her geases ¡ª some space left for interpretation. I can still breathe, for example.


    Fortunately, Whisper takes my hesitant movement as fear of pain. "Your Trial will be over quite quickly if you cannot handle the pain from a single Whisper," she says, her voice light with a kind of airy amusement. There''s a false kindness in her voice, a sincerity that rings hollow. "Perhaps you should give up now? Save yourself the trouble."


    I punch her in the face.


    Or, at the very least, I make the attempt. I feel her Firmament surging within me as I make my move, wrapping around me and constricting me ¡ª trying to dig into me and tear into my Firmament with the aim of causing as much pain as possible. It turns into a blistering heat that pours through my veins.


    At least until it''s drawn into the imbuement stone. The makeshift Firmament sink takes that burning Firmament and transforms it into something more tolerable, leaving me with just enough mind to see Whisper''s expression of utter surprise as I take a swing at her.


    I let a grin curl up on my lips. There''s something satisfying about seeing her facade break. Her barrier still protects her, but she flinches visibly, taking a step back as though afraid I might actually get through her barrier.


    Ahkelios capitalizes on this moment, whizzing past her face as a streak of bright Firmament and momentarily blinding her. I follow up with Flashstep, nearly matching Ahkelios in speed as another Amplification Gauntlet forms around my fist; and Intrinsic Lightning crackles through my body. I feel the imbuement stone in my pocket heating up and cracking ¡ª I''m straining it too much. Whisper''s geas is still fully in effect, and the stone can''t keep up with all the Firmament it needs to shift.


    But it doesn''t have to. It just needs to last long enough.


    The combination of skills I''m running finally breaks through whatever barrier she has set up, and I follow up the failed initial punch with an actual punch to her face. I encounter something solid somewhere in the midst of the mist that makes up a silverwisp''s head, and her head snaps backward at the force of my punch. The stone in my pocket shatters.


    Then she slowly straightens, staring at me, fury in her eyes.


    "...I think you might have hurt her pride more than you hurt her," Ahkelios comments, finding his way back to the top of my head.


    "You think?" My reply is half-sarcastic. Her Whisper binds me tightly now. I can''t move without debilitating pain ripping through me. I let my hand fall to my side and mask my pain with a look of amusement.


    "Still pretty satisfying, though," Ahkelios says, grinning at her ¡ª intentionally provoking her. I smirk. I can''t help but agree.


    "You know what to do, Ahkelios," I say. My intent flows between us through Temporal Link, cleaner and smoother than our wordless communication ever has before; I feel his momentary hesitation, and then his agreement.


    For the last time this loop, he flares into a bright spark of Firmament. Whisper''s eyes widen in realization, and she reaches out to stop him.


    She does not reach him in time.

 93 — Book 2, Chapter 30 — Loop 15

    [You have died. +37 Strength credits. +46 Durability credits. +57 Reflex credits. +39 Speed credits. +25 Firmament credits.]


    I stare at the death message hovering in front of me for a moment. I can afford to do that now that the Broken Horror doesn''t try to stab me to death at the start of every loop. It''s... disconcerting, the way it''s announcing my death as if it''s all part of some game.


    Though that''s exactly what it is to the Integrators, isn''t it?


    "Do you think you''re taking dying a little too lightly?" Ahkelios asks, hopping down from his perch atop my head. He doesn''t sound judgmental, just curious.


    I give the question a moment of consideration before answering. "I don''t enjoy dying," I say. "But I''m probably a little more okay with it than I should be. It''s just that we''re constantly up against people that are way more powerful than I am, and I need to use every advantage I can get."


    "Including the fact that you can reset time by dying," Ahkelios says.


    "Well, yeah."


    "Can''t say I''d be doing any different," he admits. He sits cross-legged on the ground. "What''re we doing next? We can''t beat her."


    "We need to improve on the design of the Firmament sink," I say with a sigh. "Get a better stone from Mari, if she can lend one to us, and if not, we can see if Virin lets us make something better. And I want to see if we can free Rotar with the upgraded Temporal Link."


    "Do we need to deal with Whisper?"


    The question gives me pause. It''s been an option in the back of my mind, but not one I''ve allowed myself to linger on for long. A little bit because dealing with Whisper feels like a sunk cost at this point, I suppose, but also because there''s so much I still don''t know about what''s going on with Guard and Isthanok, and a part of me wants to find out.


    I have to prioritize what''s happening on Earth, to my fellow Trialgoers. Does dealing with Whisper help me do that? I feel responsible for what''s happened to Rotar and Ikaara, but I''ve got Temporal Link now, and along with that a decent chance of getting them out myself...


    Then again. I wince, thinking back to the fight deep within the Fracture. As strong as I''ve gotten, Guard is stronger. He can deal with the creatures down there: I can''t. Not yet.


    Though I do want to practice on the Guilty Chimeras. They aren''t quite like the Rank A threats encountered that deep within the Fracture, but they presented enough of a challenge when I first fought them ¡ª especially as a group.


    "I think we do," I answer finally. "We don''t exactly need Guard''s help, but it''ll be a lot easier with him around. I still don''t have enough credits to contact Ghaara again. We want access to the Integrator salvage yard Miktik mentioned she knows about. Isthanok is our best way to get all of those done."


    "Yeah, that makes sense." Ahkelios glances away, and I sense his thoughts wandering. I glance at him.


    "Something on your mind?"


    "Kind of," he admits. The little mantis sits back onto the dirt, his expression contemplative and a lot of his usual cheer fading away. For a moment, he just looks tired... not unlike the version of himself I first met. The looper who had been through too much to keep going. "I''m just thinking about how I never saw all this. I don''t have all my memories of the loops, but everything I do remember... There was a lot of fighting. A lot of monsters. I didn''t have friends. I didn''t discover the Great Cities."


    "Does that bother you?" I ask.


    "A bit." Ahkelios sighs. "It feels strange, thinking back on it. I don''t know what I was thinking. I should have explored more. I should have been a little more like you."


    "I don''t know if I''m necessarily a good role model," I say dryly.


    "But you''re determined," Ahkelios says. "You have all these goals and plans, and you''re not perfect, but you''re making progress. You''re getting stronger faster than any Trialgoer here has before ¡ª did you hear what Whisper said?"


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    "She asked if it took me fifty loops to get to where I am, yes," I say. It''s been on the back of my mind. "I''m on the fifteenth loop."


    "And you''re already taking on Rank Bs," Ahkelios says. "A few more loops, and you''ll be able to take on Rank As."


    "The gap between each rank gets wider and wider, though," I point out. "I''ve never fought a Rank S yet, and I doubt I''m anywhere close to being able to handle one."


    "Knowing you, you''ll get there faster than either of us expect." Ahkelios laughs a little, though that laughter isn''t without a small tinge of bitterness.


    "...You don''t seem okay."


    "I''ll be fine." Ahkelios''s response is a little too quick, and when I don''t respond, he curls in on himself slightly. "I will be. Don''t worry. It''s just... I don''t know, I guess it makes me feel a little disappointed in myself."


    My brows furrow slightly. I lean down to my friend, extending a finger toward him ¡ª as much as he''s grown in size, he''s still small enough that this is the best I can offer him in terms of a hug.


    "You had your own priorities, I''m sure," I say. "We don''t have the full picture yet. And honestly, I don''t know where I''d be without you."


    "I''m sure you''d have made it just as far."


    I snort. "Wouldn''t have gotten access to the Empty City without you," I point out. "Probably wouldn''t have figured out Hotspots or been able to get to the Phantom Roots in time. I would have died to the first Guilty Chimera we fought if you didn''t boost my Amplification Gauntlet. Even against Whisper and Naru, you distracted them long enough for me to be able to act." I nudge his fist with my finger in a tiny version of a fist bump, which is enough to cheer him up a little. He seems to like the practice.


    "Thanks," Ahkelios says. He stands up, patting nonexistent dust off his chitin. "Do you think we''ll find any more fragments of... well, you know, me? I''m still missing a lot of myself."


    "I hope so," I say. "Actually... hop up here for a moment. I want to try something."


    I hold my hand out to my mantis companion and he hops up onto my palm, giving me a curious look. "What exactly do you want to try?"


    "Every stage of the Temporal Echo skill has had new functionality to it," I say with a shrug. "I want to see if Temporal Link lets us figure out where all your other fragments are."


    Inspect doesn''t tell me as much as I''d like it to about the new stage of the skill. It just tells me that my connection with asynchronous fragments will be deeper, which covers everything from Rotar to the Time Flies to the monsters that seem to be constructed from the traumas of various past loopers. That''s a lot of functionality I need to discover, and a lot of potential to unlock ¡ª as long as I can figure out how to actually use it.


    I focus on the connection between Ahkelios and I.


    His nature as a familiar and a so-called ''helper'' is a fundamental part of the skill ¡ª something built into the base layers of it. I can feel those layers even now, wrapped around the Firmament that calls itself Ahkelios and guiding it ever-so-slightly in ways to serve the best interests of the Interface. It''s not nearly as all-consuming as it was in the beginning; my encouragement of Ahkelios''s independence along with the growth of his Firmament has allowed him to partially strangle the hold the Interface has on him.


    It doesn''t look healthy, exactly. My Firmament sense shows me places where his Firmament has been rubbed raw, for lack of a better word. Layers of Firmament scraped off to accommodate the Interface''s intrusive presence.


    I don''t really consider what I do next. It''s more instinct than anything else. Firmament Control extends a small portion of my own Firmament and offers it to Ahkelios. Not as borrowed power, not as a way to extend the strength of the skill, not even as a means of boosting Ahkelios''s presence against the Interface. I offer it to him as a gift unthinkingly, a permanent transfer of power.


    A small one, yes, but a gift nonetheless. I feel Ahkelios''s shock as he receives it and it settles into the core of his Firmament, forming a seed of independence. A tiny core of Firmament that isn''t rooted in the Interface ¡ª where the Integrators hold no power.


    Are you sure? Ahkelios''s voice is uncertain. Whatever I just did, it''s created a stronger link between the two of us; I can hear his voice in my mind, now, as clearly as I can hear him speak. I simply reach out with my other hand and gently nudge him, one finger pressing against his shoulder.


    Yes.


    It''s not even just about needing allies. It just feels like the right thing to do.


    None of this is what I really came here to do, anyway. I push deeper into my Firmament sense and into the new intricacies of Temporal Link, searching for something new, something I couldn''t sense before ¡ª something that might guide me to the remaining fragments. Almost immediately, a vague sense lights up in my senses. Five threads spool out from Ahkelios, gossamer-thin, stretching off into the distance...


    I can''t see where they lead. At least one of them appears to be in the direction of the Fracture, but the others are scattered, and extend far beyond what I''ve explored of Hestia so far.


    It''s a start, at least.


    "Well, we know where to find the rest of you," I say, smiling down at Ahkelios. "We''ll look for it as soon as we can, alright?"


    Ahkelios nods. "Let''s make sure your people are okay first," he tells me, his expression surprisingly serious. "And Rotar. And Ikaara."


    "And Guard," I mutter, half under my breath and half to Ahkelios. I''m not completely certain what Guard''s story is, but from the bits and pieces I''ve been able to gather, he might just be another victim in all this.


    I just need to find out how.

 94 — Book 2, Chapter 31 — Old Beginnings

    I consider fighting the Guilty Chimeras again before heading off, but I feel a little pressed for time ¡ª there are too many things to do, and I still haven''t seen the chat with Earth connect again. A few other humans have died, from the looks of things, and I''m no closer to figuring out how to escape this Trial than I was last loop.


    Hopefully figuring out what''s going on with Guard and Whisper will help. If nothing else, Rotar''s connections in the Great Cities might be able to get me a better lead on how the Interface works. I haven''t forgotten the message from Hestia''s Heart about needing allies, about needing to break the hold of the Interface.


    Getting Rotar back will be a start.


    Come to think of it, I haven''t seen head nor tail of the secret societies that Rotar mentioned were a thing ¡ª there''s no underground rebellion or laboratory that I''ve noticed. I haven''t met any other morphlings like Ikaara, either, in or out of their void suits. I suppose Isthanok is the one place I''m least likely to notice anything like that. It''s a City that''s under constant surveillance due to Whisper''s efforts, and she''s got her own army in the form of Guard and his multiple bodies.


    I glance around the clearing I''m in. "No sign of Tarin," I say to Ahkelios. "You think he''s going to actually stick to the agreement for once?"


    "I bet he just forgot," Ahkelios says, crossing tiny mantis arms, and I snort. He''s... probably not wrong.


    If I want to evade the Guilty Chimeras on my own, that''s going to mean figuring out how to fly. Which... I''m kind of ashamed I haven''t already tried, honestly. I''ve managed to stay in the air for long periods of time with various combinations of skills; I''m surprised I haven''t straight up tried to fly yet.


    Warpstep to get me high enough, and Accelerate to counter the force of gravity. Any sufficiently strong propelling force will keep me in the air as long as I can maintain Accelerate.


    That''s the theory, anyway.


    "Hey, Ahkelios?" I say.


    "What?" His voice is wary. He probably knows I''m planning something. Triplestep Firmament gathers at my feet as I begin to run toward a tree.


    "Hold on tight. I''m going to fly now."


    "What do you mean, you didn''t unlock any new ski¡ª" Ahkelios''s voice trails off into a yelp and a cry of dismay as I ignore him and launch myself straight toward the tree, Crystallized Strength bunching up around my thighs as I run up, then bounce off, catapulting myself in the vague direction of the crow village.


    Accelerate kicks in as soon as I''m in the air. I adjust it to counteract gravity so that I''m basically flying in a straight line ¡ª it''s a little finicky, trying to control it like this, but I''ve done it before. The worst that happens is that I wobble a little as I lose my grip on the exact right amount of force to use, but it''s still easier than I expect it to be.


    "This is going surprisingly well!" I have to yell to be heard over the sound of the wind rushing past my face.


    Ahkelios doesn''t seem to agree. He doesn''t bother speaking out loud, instead reaching out through our shared Temporal Link so I can hear what he''s saying. "Please stop bobbing up and down like that," he tells me. "I''m going to be sick."


    "Can you even get sick?"


    "I''m going to be sick metaphorically."


    The boost from Crystallized Strength isn''t quite enough to carry me the full distance ¡ª that required a throw with the full force of Mari''s strength, and even with Accelerate to mitigate the force of gravity, I still have to contend with the wind slowing me down. I can extend the jump a little further by adjusting the vector of Accelerate, but it makes more sense to just kick off the ground again, so I let myself land¡ª


    Premonition activates. These things are fast, and they''ve clearly been keeping track of me... somehow.


    Crystallized Barrier. I pour more Firmament into the skill than I ever have before, Firmament Control giving me the edge I need to force a raw flood of power into every edge and facet I can. The barrier that forms in front of me looks almost real ¡ª it takes on an opaque sheen, with a solidity and presence it simply didn''t have before.


    Not all of that is from the Firmament I''ve poured into it, either. I can sense the way the skill has grown and evolved every time I used it, every time it''s been broken. That outpouring of Firmament was enough to trigger some fundamental change in the skill.


    The last time I did this against a chimera, it tore through the Crystallized Barrier instantly and was only briefly stopped by the Hexfold Shield after it.


    This time, it slams into the barrier and nearly cracks its neck from the abrupt stop to its momentum. I hear one of its many horns snap, and the chimera lets out a roar of frustrated anger and pain, shaking its head wildly. It stares at me with eyes that fume with green-grey Firmament, momentarily retreating to recover. I watch as its scales roil and ripple with roiling energy. There are cracks in its flesh that ooze thick streams of Firmament into the air, and I grimace at the amount of power this thing wields.


    Some of this, I know, is just power I wasn''t able to see before. Firmament Sight augments my ability to sense Firmament, and now that I can, I can see how much sheer power this thing is packing.


    And it''s still just a Rank B.


    I shouldn''t give it time to recover. My Strength skills flow into my arm as I prepare myself to meet it head-on once again. Ahkelios gathers his strength to join with mine, and this time I can feel the way his Firmament spreads out within my Amplification Gauntlet, a lattice of energy that reinforces and augments my power into something formidable.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The air cracks around my fist as I launch myself forward and into the chimera.


    [ You have defeated a Guilty Chimera (Rank B)! +43 Strength credits. +15 Durability credits. +21 Reflex credits. +9 Speed credits. +20 Firmament credits. ]


    The chimera''s flesh... shatters, for lack of a better word. Last time I killed one of these, I couldn''t break through its outer shell; the best I could do was liquify its insides with the energy from my punch. This time, that outer shell doesn''t hold up to the force of my punch.


    I recoil a little from the sight. Watching something organic shatter like glass is not pleasant, no matter how used to violence I get in these loops.


    "Ew," Ahkelios remarks. If he had a nose, I''m sure he''d be wrinkling it.


    "No kidding," I mutter. "We better get out of here before any more of these arrive."


    They''re pretty decent for credits still, don''t get me wrong, but I have more important things to deal with at the moment.


    The rest of the trip back to the crow village is uneventful. I have a nearly heart-stopping moment when I find Tarin in roughly the same position I met him at within my first few loops ¡ª there''s a terrifying moment where I think whatever connection he''s made with the Interface has fallen apart and he no longer remembers the loops. But no ¡ª he glances up at me the moment he senses my presence and gives a sharp caw of greeting.


    "Ethan!" he says. "You take too long! Mari almost not believe me."


    "You told her?" I try not to wince. I remember Mari''s request.


    "Prank stupid," Tarin says, waving a wing dismissively. "She need know. Then she help, yes?"


    There''s something in his tone that strikes me as a little off ¡ª and now that I look a little closer at him, his body language is a little more reserved. He speaks with just as much boisterous bluster as ever, but he holds his wings a little closer to his body, and doesn''t move with quite so much exaggerated energy.


    "It might be kinder if she doesn''t know," I suggest softly. Might as well be honest. It''s not like the prank plan was going to last for more than a couple loops, anyway; I''m sure Mari expected me to improvise.


    I expect Tarin to deflect me immediately. To my surprise, he doesn''t; instead, he casts his eyes downward and seems to contemplate my words before he responds. "Maybe," he says. "I think about it."


    That... will have to be good enough, I think.


    "So she''s agreed to help?"


    "We go see her first!" Tarin declares. "She not even believe me yet! You show her you real, yes? Then we discuss. She help."


    "I need some of those imbuement stones¡ª"


    "Yes, yes," Tarin says impatiently. "You get stone. I can give stone too, you know! You not need Mari."


    ...He''s got me there. It''s not like he''s any less in charge than Mari.


    <hr>


    "You Trialgoer?" Mari says, peering at me. She folds her wings across her chest in a way that reminds me remarkably of Tarin, then sniffs in a surprisingly human-like gesture. "You small. And no feathers."


    I''m not sure why she''s commenting on my appearance first, this time. "What did Tarin tell you?"


    "He tell me you strong!" Mari looks almost offended; she lifts one of my arms and pokes at the muscle there, and I just kind of stand there, allowing her to manhandle me. "But you small."


    "The Trial doesn''t exactly let me build muscle," I say dryly. "And is this really important?"


    "No, no. I just surprised." There''s a lot of nervous energy about her, just like there was last time. Mari busies herself by cooking, fanning the flames on the open fire and checking on the dish she''s making. I don''t recognize it. "Tarin say you try to help Rotar?"


    "Yes," I confirm. I briefly consider explaining Rotar''s entire... situation, but it''s a little complicated to explain at best. "And there''s something weird going on in Isthanok with that friend of yours. Miktik?"


    "Miktik!" Mari brightens briefly, then frowns. "What mean something weird?"


    "She''s being blackmailed by the leader¡ª"


    "WHAT."


    ...I had almost forgotten that Mari could yell so loudly. I don''t think she even did it on purpose ¡ª it looks like the Firmament worked its way into her lungs just through her sheer, sudden anger.


    "¡ªof Isthanok. She-Who-Whispers." I glance surreptitously at Tarin, who''s doing his best to look as uninvolved as possible. Did he leave this part out for me to tell her on purpose?


    "You help her, yes?" Mari says fiercely.


    "I''m trying." How much of this do I want to explain? The situation is complicated, and half the pieces I haven''t even managed to completely put together yet. It''s clear that everything I''ve witnessed so far is connected ¡ª if I could just put all the pieces together... "You know about Whisper''s whole thing, right?" I ask. "Her Whispers."


    Mari snorts. "Yes," she says. "Coward skill."


    Tarin snickers somewhere behind me, clearly in agreement. I have no doubt if Ahkelios were out at the moment he''d be laughing as well, but he''s chosen to retreat back into the recesses of my Firmament for the moment, citing ''being tired''. Far be it for me to deny him a break.


    "Miktik''s found a way to mitigate the effects of her Whisper, but her invention can''t withstand it for long," I explain. "I''m trying to improve on her design using imbuement, but I''m not good enough yet, and the imbuement stones I use can''t take the strain very well."


    Mari comes to a conclusion rapidly. "You want village stones?" she asks suspiciously.


    "Yes¡ª"


    "It not help you," she asserts.


    I frown. "Why not?"


    "Village stones special." Mari seems to struggle to find the right phrasing. "It for... special imbuements. You use before?"


    "You lent me a few. They held a skill charge just fine."


    "But you not carry them long, yes?"


    "Well, no," I admit. I don''t think I had them for more than a few hours, and certainly not more than a day.


    "Stones take imbuement easy. But they lose imbuement easy, too. Cannot lock in enchantment. You say your imbuement have strain? How it work?"


    "It takes in Firmament¡ª"


    Mari holds up a wing to stop me. "Village stones not work for you. More Firmament will push out old Firmament."


    There goes that idea. "You couldn''t have told me that, Tarin?"


    "I not know!" he protests.


    Which is a mistake, because Mari immediately swivels her gaze to him. "How you not know!" she demands. "It your inheritance!"


    "...I forgot."


    Mari baps him over the head with a wing, but she does it with surprising gentleness. I see the way Tarin melts a little into even that briefest of touches. These small moments between the two aren''t something I paid that much attention to, before, but there''s a lot of genuine affection in their banter and interplay, as aggrieved as she sounds.


    "You go see Virin," Mari says, turning to address me. "He better imbuement teacher than me. He help you. Tarin stay here."


    The way she says that brooks no argument, and in fact, before I can respond, she''s already ushering me out of the hut. "You go!" she says.


    Their hut doesn''t exactly have a door, but the cloth piece they use as a door hardens into something as solid as steel as Mari injects a burst of crow Firmament directly into it. I blink, staring at what is now effectively a locked door.


    ...Alright, time to find Virin, I guess.

 95 — Book 2, Chapter 32 — Mistakes

    She-Who-Whispers had a headache. This time, her headache was not caused by incompetence among any of her underlings, or even by yet another plot to rebel being whispered about in the dark underbelly of the city where her citizens thought her ears might not be able to reach.


    Foolish. She could hear everything that happened within the city, and everything that happened around it. Her range extended further than she let anyone be aware of. The castle she''d constructed helped extend it even further, gathering up stray pieces of Firmament snatched even from the other Great Cities.


    No. Her headache this time was not caused by the incompetence of her underlings or the little rebels in her city.


    It was caused by her own. Which was the most frustrating part about all of this, really.


    [ To updt: Miktik helper ¡ª tg? ]


    What the hell did that mean?


    It wasn''t that she didn''t understand her own code ¡ª she did. It was a code she''d developed on the off chance she would have to contend with the Trialgoer that would soon be going through its own version of an Integrator Trial set upon her own planet. The idea was simple: if there was no further update to the message, then the person she listed was almost certainly the Trialgoer.


    Because the Integrators wouldn''t just tell her who the Trialgoer was, where it was, or even what it looked like. They wouldn''t even let her access any basic information, like whether the Trial had started or how many loops there had been. Not without paying in credits, anyway.


    She''d paid the credits to see how many loops it had been and had been both gratified and slightly horrified to see that the Trialgoer was on its fifteenth loop. On the one hand, it couldn''t be too strong yet. No doubt she''d killed it easily, and then failed to update the message because time had reset.


    On the other, the thought that she''d already lived through fifteen loops and couldn''t remember any of them frightened her a little. Not that she would admit it, of course.


    Back to the problem at hand. It wasn''t that she couldn''t understand her own message. It was that there was no ''Miktik helper''. She didn''t have teeth like some of the organics on this plane, but if she did, she was sure she would be grinding them in frustration. She wanted to strangle her previous self.


    It is a time looper, you fool! There is no guarantee it will choose the same role twice!


    And it clearly hadn''t, because there was no sign that Miktik had a helper at all. There was not a single whisper she could hear about anyone being spotted even around Miktik. The inventor liked to keep to herself, even moreso now that she was actively working for She-Who-Whispers.


    Under coercion, but still.


    She-Who-Whispers grunted. She glanced at the body of He-Who-Guards, lying still on the pedestal. It still pained her to see him like this, but now that she knew the loops had started, she felt a little less worried. It wasn''t like anything she did really mattered until the loops ended. She had time to find a cure for him.


    Unless the Trialgoer chose to give up now, of course. But that was one of the few things the Integrators would tell her about, and there had been no such notice from them.


    She-Who-Whispers put her mind back to controlling all of He-Who-Guards''s bodies patrolling around Isthanok. It was a thankless task. She could already feel her headache getting worse.


    Even if nothing mattered for the time being, she couldn''t stand the idea that her city would be seen as anything less than perfect. Everything had to keep going just the way it did before.


    Everything had to stay perfect.


    <hr>


    I find Virin playing with his daughter in one corner of the village, tossing her high up into the air as she giggles and flails around. I smile a bit at the sight. It''s such a surprisingly normal thing to see, after all the fighting and violence and death. Sure, it''s being done by two oversized crows, but some things transcend species and cultures.


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    "Virin?" I call out, and almost immediately regret doing so. I probably should have waited until his daughter wasn''t midair to call out to him, because he jerks, startled, and almost drops her.


    Fortunately, gravity is nothing compared to the passives of Quicken Mind and the speed of a Warpstep.


    "Sorry about that," I apologize as I set his daughter down on the ground. She doesn''t even seem mad ¡ª she looks up at me with something resembling awe.


    ...That, or she thinks I''m a particularly cool, large, bipedal pet. I haven''t really mastered crow language and she''s mostly just pointing.


    "It¡ª it alright," Virin says, breathing deeply and trying to calm himself. He flashes me an uncertain smile. "Who are you? I not recognize you. You visitor?"


    "I''m the Trialgoer," I say. Virin''s eyes grow wide in understanding, and he draws his daughter a little closer to him. Did Tarin and Mari introducing me to the village make this much of a difference? I don''t remember any of them being this worried about me. "Uh, I''m not planning on hurting any of you."


    "Right." Virin seems a bit embarrassed now; his grip on his daughter loosens slightly. ''What you need?"


    "I was hoping you could teach me a little about imbuement." Virin''s eyes light up almost as soon as I say the word ''teach'', and he only gets more excited when he hears ''imbuement''.


    "You want learn imbuement?" he asks. "I teach! This way!"


    ...I don''t remember him being this enthusiastic, either.


    Not that I''m complaining. A slightly amused smile adorns my face as he leads me over to his hut, already gesturing animatedly as he talks about Firmament resonance and material enhancement.


    A little bit on impulse, I decide to tell him about the loop. It''ll be a lot easier to explain what I know of imbuement already if I can just tell him that he''s taught me before. Virin''s eyes grow even wider than before as I explain the details, and instead of being disturbed, he seems positively delighted.


    "You help me!" he says. "Not now. But when you have time! Some imbuement hard. Thing break. If you come back, it not broken anymore. I not need to worry about breaking things!"


    ...Fair enough, really. A time loop is pretty much perfect for destructive testing.


    "Last time you taught me about resonance," I say, trying to bring the topic back to learning. "Something about some materials being easier to imbue than others, and needing to match the resonance of something to imbue it. Can you do that for me again? I want to see if I understand."


    More specifically, I want to see if my stronger Firmament sense ¡ª as well as the new Firmament Sight skill ¡ª gives me any new insights as to how this so-called reosnance process works.


    I watch carefully as Virin takes a hold of one of his stones, then carefully alters his Firmament so that it slips in easily. I frown. I sense something change, but I''m not sure what.


    "Can you do that again?" I ask. Virin seems amused, but he complies.


    It takes another three tries before I figure out what''s happening. It comes down to Firmament layers again ¡ª when Virin ''matches the resonance'' of an object, he''s manipulating the layers of his Firmament so that they align perfectly with the layers of the thing he''s trying to imbue. The moment he does, they slip together, like two pieces of a puzzle; after that, the ''knot'' twists the whole thing up so they can''t come apart as easily.


    That... makes a lot of sense, actually. I remember my own insights the last time I did this ¡ª the pattern I noticed in the Firmament, almost like a lock-and-key system. Virin''s method of first aligning the layers makes everything slip into place.


    Hm. Maybe I can apply this to my own techniques. Well, before anything else, I need a point of comparison.


    "I want to show you a method of imbuement I developed next," I say. "Can you tell me what you think of it?"


    "You make something new?" Virin''s eyes are practically shining with delight. "Show!"


    My method of imbuement, unlike Virin''s, is a lot more brute force. I rip the surface layer of the object''s Firmament off before pushing my own Firmament in. Now that I have a direct comparison to make, even without Virin saying anything, I can tell the difference. I''m only operating within a single layer ¡ª my method means a lot less Firmament gets pushed into the object.


    "Hm." I frown. I''m not exactly happy with this result; I''ve been hoping I discovered something important. "I can see the downsides¡ª"


    I stop in my tracks as I notice Virin''s expression.


    His eyes are wide and his beak has fallen open ¡ª he stares at the rock I''m holding like I''m holding a live grenade, somehow simultaneously afraid and excited. "What you do!" he asks. "Your imbuement different! Not as much. But more... no word. It easier to reach. Better for channeling."


    "It''s more accessible?" I ask to clarify, and Virin nods rapidly.


    "Yes! Accessible. This imbuement much easier to connect with other things," he says. I think about this for a moment. It does make sense ¡ª the entirety of my imbuement is packed close to the surface, so foreign Firmament doesn''t need to penetrate as deeply to be affected by the imbuement itself.


    Which makes it almost perfect for my plans, really, except...


    It occurs to me that I could do both ¡ª pack a good amount of Firmament in the uppermost layer and intertwine it with an aligned set of Firmament all at once. All the benefits of both, none of the flaws.


    In theory, anyway.


    "I want to try something," I tell Virin. I feel him peering over my shoulder cautiously as I begin to channel both Firmament Control and Hueshift.


    This isn''t an imbuement stone like the ones available in the Craven Arena, but it''ll do for now. I''ll ask Virin about the differences afterward.

 96 — Book 2, Chapter 33 — Experimentation

    Even with my newfound Firmament Control and Firmament Sight, the aligning step is... a lot harder than I anticipated.


    It''s not impossible by any means, but it does take an effort of concentration and will that leaves me physically exhausted. The experience is not unlike having to tense every muscle in my body and then having to hold that tension for as long as I can. Firmament layers resist being directly manipulated the way I''m trying to do it.


    "Can you show me how you do it again?" I ask Virin for what I think is the fifth time. He''s being remarkably patient with me ¡ª in fact, he still seems more excited than anything else, really.


    "Yes!" Virin says immediately. He pulls out yet another stone and the Firmament within him abruptly flexes, wobbling and abruptly aligning itself with that of the stone. Firmament Sight and Quicken Mind give me everything I need to observe the phenomenon in detail, all the way down to the way the layers of Firmament push each other apart.


    The problem is that Firmament Control is still a step less precise than I need to be able to manipulate Firmament to that extent of fine precision. I remember the method I first used when Mari taught me imbuement ¡ª a sort of rocking back-and-forth with my Firmament until it slipped into the object I was trying to imbue ¡ª and the motion makes a lot more sense now. Every time I push against foreign Firmament with my own, the two end up a little bit more aligned.


    What I''m trying to do now is to refine that process. The method I developed works, but only if the layers are already close to being aligned. If the layers are too different, then no amount of rocking can align the Firmament enough to let me imbue the object. And while the imbuement stones I got in the arena were easy enough to push Firmament into, they also weren''t the higher rarity ones.


    Based on the names of the rarities, I''m guessing higher rarities are going to get progressively harder to imbue, even if the imbuement will be anchored more deeply and can hold more power.


    "I don''t suppose you can help me out here, Ahkelios?" I say absently. I tap on his presence within my Firmament, calling him out with a quick application of Temporal Link. He manifests in his usual spot on my shoulder, already poised to answer even as Virin lets out a startled squawk.


    "I thought you''d never ask," Ahkelios says.


    "You sound smug."


    "That''s because I am. You should''ve asked sooner." I can practically hear him preening. I consider pointing out the fact that he could simply have offered ¡ª it''s quite clear he''s not entirely unaware, even when he''s ''hibernating'' when the skill is deactivated ¡ª but honestly, I think I''m just going to let him have his moment. He''s clearly enjoying himself.


    "Alright, well..." I hold out my hand and the stone. Ahkelios clicks his tongue, then dives forward, flickering into the stone and vanishing.


    Then the room falls silent. Virin is staring at me and the stone, his eyes wide, and he speaks after a solid minute of opening and closing his beak. "Are you, uh... going to explain any of that?"


    "I can try, but I think it''d be more confusing than anything else," I say dryly. "He''s an echo of a past Trialgoer created by temporal Firmament and bound by the Interface."


    Virin nods slowly. "Forget I asked."


    I can feel Ahkelios doing something while his Firmament is bonded to the stone''s. It''s not the same as a traditional imbuement ¡ª it''s like he''s making it a part of himself, and then adjusting his Firmament to match mine. Which isn''t a very difficult task for him, because he''s basically made out of my Firmament to begin with.


    And with that little change, Hueshift locks into the stone Virin provided me, aligned perfectly. Ahkelios pops out a second later, looking none the worse for wear. Maybe a little tired. He gives me a weary grin and a thumbs-up that I''m not sure where he acquired, then collapses back onto my shoulder.


    "Thanks, ''Kelios," I say, giving him a little pat on the head.


    Now for the second step of the plan. Virin is watching me in rapt attention, and I try to focus as I bring Firmament Control to bear. The outermost layer of Firmament here is a little more slippery, a little harder to manipulate ¡ª no doubt because I have to deal with two different types of Firmament layered on itself.


    But the alignment Ahkelios and I performed together works perfectly. Pulling on one layer pulls on the other, and although it''s harder, it''s nowhere near as difficult as it might have been had the two types of Firmament been even slightly misaligned.


    Just like before, I peel back the layer long enough to flood it with more Hueshift, and then seal it shut. Then I stare at the freshly imbued stone critically.


    "You know, I never asked, but what rarity would this stone have, if you had to give it one?" I ask Virin. He glances at me, surprised.


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    "Rarity?" he asks.


    "You know, like... grade. The system categorizes imbuement stones. The two I saw back when I was buying them were ''shallow'' and ''submerged'', which doesn''t make a lot of sense to me, but..."


    "Oh!" Virin brightens, clearly recognizing the system, if not the words. "Yes! Firmament quality different. I not know what yours called, but this one... five."


    Five. Grade... B, by the Interface''s standards, even if it''s chosen to give the stones an entirely different set of categories for some reason. Or maybe there''s a good reason for that and I shouldn''t compare the two.


    "Does the quality make a difference?" I ask. I''m still not sure what these rarities mean.


    "Big difference!" Virin agrees. He fishes around in a rickety drawer, filling his hut with the sound of rattling; up in her little nest, his daughter grumbles a bit from the sound. He finally pulls out a nondescript looking stone that''s much smaller than the others. "This weakest type. You imbue before?"


    I examine it critically. It doesn''t look that different from the Shallow stone I imbued in the last loop. "Yes."


    "Weak stones break," Virin declares. "Good stone last."


    "That can''t be the only difference."


    "It not," Virin agrees. "But biggest difference. Better stone hold more Firmament. Also... ah... how to say." He pauses, as if struggling for the words. "When stone is good and old, it absorb... memory. Make imbuement stronger."


    I blink. That''s new. "You''re telling me higher grade stones will affect whatever imbuement I put in it? What if I don''t want my imbuement to be changed?"


    "Then you find stone that match Firmament!" Virin says, as if it''s obvious. "Or you make yourself."


    "...I can make imbuement stones?"


    "Oh! Yes." Virin doesn''t appear to have considered that I might not know that. He looks at me quizzically. "Imbuement stone hard to make. Need..." He struggles to find a word. "Essence."


    I blink. "Ahkelios, can you translate?"


    The little mantis ¡ª still lying half-collapsed on my shoulder ¡ª gives a shrug that nearly makes him fall off. "Never tried making an imbuement stone that I remember," he says. "I''m not sure I even bothered with any of this crafting stuff. Are you sure this is how you wanna be using your time?"


    "How did you know how to help me with imbuement if you didn''t bother with it?" I ask, exasperated.


    Ahkelios shrugs and, to my surprise, gives me a serious answer. "The whole bonding-with-Firmament thing I can do is new. Something that happens because I''m made of Firmament now, I guess," he says thoughtfully. "Makes it a lot easier to modify something when I''m connected to it."


    Something about the way he says that sparks a thought. "Made of Firmament," I mutter to myself. "Ahkelios, you''re like the Integrators."


    "What?" The little mantis pulls the most offended expression I''ve ever seen him make and seems to regain all his energy just so he can stand on my shoulder and cross his arms at me. "I am not like the Integrators!"


    "I meant that you''re made out of Firmament like they are," I clarify. "Which means anything you can do, they can probably do."


    Ahkelios''s offended expression fades away, quickly replaced by one of delight. "And I can do anything they can do!"


    "...That wasn''t exactly what I meant¡ª"


    "Too late!" he announces. "I''m going to do that phasing thing they kept pulling on me back in my loops now."


    I pause and stare at him as he concentrates. Nothing happens.


    "I can''t do it while you''re looking at me," he says.


    "I don''t think that''s the problem here, Ahkelios."


    "Fine," he grumbles. Some of the mirth fades away from him as he composes himself, and I''m reminded that he''s been through a lot more than he lets on. So much of his behavior is... It''s not a front, exactly, but as much as he uses humor to connect with me and cheer me up, I think he uses it to distract himself, too. "So... what do you think that means, exactly?"


    "I''m not sure yet," I say. My mind is racing, but I know too little about what the Integrators can do. I''ll need to talk to Gheraa again.


    Which means it''s probably finally time to bank those Durability points. I''ve got 548 of those points clogging up my Interface.


    Might as well put them to good use.


    <hr>


    For the first time in a long, long time, He-Who-Guards was aware.


    That awareness was only partially appreciated. It came with a good deal of pain and a feeling of rawness that he would have preferred not to feel. But he was himself, and that was more than he could have said a week ago.


    His memories weren''t entirely clear. He knew he''d faced an attack of some sort. He''d felt something beginning to pull at his Firmament. He knew he hadn''t been able to fight it. No matter what he tried, his influence on the foreign Firmament trying to tear him apart failed. It was almost like it wasn''t really there.


    He-Who-Guards remembered the brief flicker of awareness that came to him. It was more impulse than coherent thought ¡ª just the barest flicker of cognizance that told him that he had an opportunity.


    He couldn''t quite remember what he''d done after that. There has been something around him, suffocating, that was being damaged, and his instincts had insisted he fight it off. The process had felt a little like pulling off his own skin. He was stripping himself bare, in a manner of speaking. Tearing apart the patchwork Firmament that held him together. That pretended to be him.


    Now all of that was gone, and he was free. That freedom meant everything to him.


    Even if his Firmament was in tatters. Even if it meant he would be lost; gone forever.


    Yet he was holding on, somehow. He wasn''t sure how. The remaining Firmament that formed his core should have long since dissipated, and yet it clung together.


    Nearby, he could feel a familiar presence humming to herself, and a cold spark of purple Firmament.


    He tried to tell himself that this time things would be different.


    He wasn''t sure he believed it.

 97 — Book 2, Chapter 34 — Key

    548 credits. I better get a good skill out of this.


    [ Are you sure you wish to bank 548 Durability credits? ]


    [ 548 Durability credits banked! Rolling for results... ]


    [ Select between:


    Impact Reflection (Rank A)


    Phaseslip (Rank A)


    Imbued Resilience (Rank A)


    Chromatic Resistance (Rank A) ]


    [ You have unlocked an Inspiration. Bonus will commence once skill selection has taken place. ]


    Inspect.


    Impact Reflection is pretty self-explanatory, and Inspect doesn''t tell me anything different from what I assumed from the name alone. It''s a durability skill that allows me to reflect kinetic energy proportional to the amount of Firmament I put into the skill. It''s a true reflection, too; the impact is fully absorbed and then expelled in the direction I choose.


    A simple skill. A good one, too. But while Whisper is dangerous, it''s not her punches I''m worried about.


    Phaseslip, on the other hand, is a movement and durability skill rolled into one. Inspect tells me it makes me intangible and thus renders physical blows ineffective, which is an amazing skill that has the exact same problem Impact Reflection does. Physical blows aren''t what I need to be guarding against ¡ª not at the moment, anyway.


    That said... The skill does give me pause, though not because I think it''ll help me endure more hits.


    "Phaseslip," I mutter out loud. "You heard of that skill before, Ahkelios?"


    "What?" Ahkelios perks up on my shoulder, then shakes his head. "No."


    "Shame." I stare at the skill contemplatively for another moment more. I haven''t forgotten what I''ve been told about where the Integrators are ¡ª they live in a section of reality that overlaps every world they''ve conquered. The impression I''m getting from the skill through Inspect tells me that Phaseslip does something similar. It pushes me into another layer of reality, making ordinary physical attacks slip straight through.


    The only question is whether I can modify it enough to pay the Integrators a visit.


    Imbued Resilience and Chromatic Resistance are both passives of a sort. The first apparently allows me to imbue durability skills into objects with a kind of auric effect ¡ª the person holding on to the stone gains the benefit of the durability skill. It''s different from directly imbuing armor with durability skills, which makes the armor itself stronger, but not the user.


    Chromatic Resistance is pretty self-explanatory. It''s related to all the recent experimentation with the color of Firmament and offers me partial resistance against additional effects that come from Firmament color.


    I dismiss that one right off the bat. It''s not useless, exactly, but none of the opponents I''ve faced so far make extensive use of Firmament color. There might be one in the future, but there''s no point preparing for an enemy I''m not sure whether I''ll face when I already have one right in front of me.


    So... Phaseslip seems like the option to go for.


    For the first time, I find myself wishing the Inspiration would happen before the skill selection. At least then I''d have the ability to ask Gheraa about it.


    [ Phaseslip (Rank A) obtained! ]


    [ Inspiration commencing. ]


    I''m almost getting used to the way the world freezes around me now. There''s still a feeling of disorientation as everything just stops; even breathing doesn''t really work in this space. It''s more mental than physical, I suppose. I doubt it''s an actual time freeze.


    "Ethan!" Gheraa greets. This time he''s leaning against the doorway to Virin''s hut, and he''s... wearing a hat, for some reason. I eye him for a moment, wondering if he''s actually taking this seriously, or if I''ve just been wrong about him needing help.


    "Hello," I say.


    "You''ve been holding on to your Durability points for a long time," Gheraa comments. "It''s almost like you want to get beaten up."


    "More like I''d prefer not getting hit to enduring a hit," I say wryly. I examine him a little more closely ¡ª the golden Firmament that runs through his skin looks... a little dimmer than before. It''s more noticeable because Inspiration-space strips the world of color. Gheraa is the only thing that pops out, and today he pops out a little less.


    The question is if he''s figured out a way to communicate to me what I need to know.


    "Did you enjoy your skill options this time?" Gheraa asks me brightly. He conjures an object out of thin air, golden Firmament looping into a traditional Earth microphone. I stare at it, bemused.


    "They were... interesting," I say.


    "Good, good," Gheraa says. He leans in to stage-whisper. "We Integrators can technically help choose the skills you get, you know. It''s a bit costly, especially for you, but it helps keeps things more interesting."


    I''m careful not to react to his words. What he''s telling me is a clear hint ¡ª and now I''m more certain than ever that Phaseslip was the right choice. Considering the likelihood that we''re being watched, I don''t want to let on that I''ve figured it out.


    "So that''s why my skill options always suck."


    "Now, now, that''s not fair to me." Gheraa gives me a severe frown. For a moment, I think he looks actually hurt ¡ª not that I can afford to tell him I don''t mean it. I''ve had a pretty good spread of skills, all things considered, except for all the overlap in functionality when it comes to Speed skills. I really don''t need Triplestep, Firestep, Flashstep and Warpstep.


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    Why are they all -step skills, anyway?


    "I suppose it isn''t," I agree, careful to keep my tone neutral. It''s as close to an apology as I want to get. "Is there any way for me to consolidate my skills, at least? The list is getting a bit ridiculous."


    "You''ll have to find out! Maybe there''s an Inspiration that''ll help you." Gheraa grins at me. "The All-Seeing Eye helped you, didn''t it?"


    "You shoved it into my eye."


    "And it worked!"


    "For a certain definition of work," I say, sighing. He''s not wrong. "But it doesn''t pare down my skill list, it just gives me extra skills."


    "Why would you want less skills?" Gheraa gives me a baffled look.


    "Because I don''t want to get stuck in decision paralysis when I have three pages worth of skills to choose from, and so far I haven''t gotten a memory skill to help me remember everything I can do?" The words come out a little more sarcastic than I intend. "Besides, a lot of them are redundant."


    "They have different advantages and disadvantages," Gheraa says dismissively. "But if you really want to know, there''s a feature you can unlock that will do something similar. I can''t tell you how to unlock it, though."


    Huh. That''s the most candid he''s ever been with me about an Interface feature.


    "Alright," I say. "What about the new Inspirations I have to choose from, then?"


    Gheraa brightens. "Glad you asked!" he proclaims, instantly bringing a cane out from behind his back. I''m pretty sure both his hands were empty only a second before, but this sort of behavior is nothing new for him.


    ...In an abstract sort of way, I realize I''ve sort of missed it. When I''m in the middle of getting an Inspiration, I don''t have to worry about most of the intricacies of the loops. Or about time still moving forward. About people on Earth still dying. Gheraa is irreverent in a way that''s frustrating, but knowing that he might be on my side takes away a lot of that sting. I can view his actions through a lens of him putting on a show for an audience while still trying to help, and I can appreciate good showmanship.


    Anyway. Gheraa twirls the cane in his hand once, striking the ground with the tip; there''s a small reverberation in the air that rings with Firmament. Four dirt pillars burst out of the ground, each one holding a different Inspiration.


    "I feel like you could have just shown me those Inspirations normally," I say.


    "That wouldn''t be as fun." Gheraa smirks at me.


    I roll my eyes. "This is all of them, right?"


    "Yes. I wouldn''t pull the same trick twice. That would hardly be interesting." If he had a nose to wrinkle, I imagine he''d be doing that right about now. As it is, he just shoots me a mildly disgusted look, like the idea of repeating a trick offended him.


    I choose not to mention the fact that he repeats tricks all the time. Like the thing with the microphone.


    Instead, I cast my gaze to the pillars and the Inspirations sitting atop them. They''re almost disappointingly simple. From left to right, I see a shield, a suit of armor, a statue, and a rose. There''s no reaction from the Void or Accelerator Inspirations, which are the closest things I have to sentient Inspirations, so I''m not getting any help there.


    Inspect.


    Their names are as simple as their forms. The Unbroken Shield. Adaptive Armor. Eternal Form. Aspect of Regrowth.


    The Unbroken Shield is an Inspiration that flat-out upgrades whatever defensive skill I use it on, making them much harder to break in a way that scales with the amount of Firmament I pour into it. It''s a little like what I can already do with Firmament Control, but hyperefficient in the sense that it amplifies the effect of the Firmament I''m putting into the skill.


    Adaptive Armor just allows me to wrap any defensive skill around my body like a suit of armor. It gives me extra mobility without having to sacrifice concentration to move my barriers around, but it''s also the least interesting of the Inspirations. I already have Verdant Armor; I don''t need this.


    Eternal Form is a little more interesting. It allows me to imbue myself with my durability skills. Skills like Tough Body are already applied to my body, but I could, for instance, give my skin the strength and properties of my Hexfold Shield ¡ª though the idea of my skin shattering like glass should something pierce the shield makes me wince. Rigidity isn''t always a good defense.


    Aspect of Regrowth is simple, but useful: it allows my skills to regenerate themselves. I sense this one doesn''t even have to be limited to durability skills, meaning I could use it on Ahkelios and give him the ability to regenerate if he ever gets hurt ¡ª not that that''s been a problem so far. Or I could give it to the temporal clones I can create with Temporal Link, and a single hit won''t be enough to destroy them anymore.


    Well, the second one is a theory. I''m not actually sure you can heal back from a paradox.


    "Wow, you have no questions about any of these," Gheraa comments. He peers at me as if suspicious, but the look in his eyes suggests that he''s trying to hint at something. I frown ¡ª it doesn''t look like he''s trying to indicate I should pick one Inspiration over any of the others.


    "Sorry," I say out loud. I wonder if I''m not actually supposed to be able to tell what these Inspirations do with Inspect. "Just got distracted. By the, uh, presentation."


    Gheraa grins broadly, practically preening. "I did pretty good, didn''t I?"


    Well, they''re pseudo-magical items floating on top of dirt pillars, so in all honesty... no. But I decide not to say that out loud.


    "So, can you tell me what any of these do?" I ask. "The statue looks pretty interesting."


    "Ah, yes! The Eternal Form," Gheraa says. He flicks his wrist, pulling the Inspiration into his hand. "Nothing very eternal about it, I''m afraid. You imbue yourself with your skills. You can already do something like that, can''t you?"


    There''s a note of forced casualness in his tone. "Uh, maybe?" I say. I can do basic physical reinforcement with Firmament Control, but I don''t think that''s what he''s talking about... although now that I think about it, I could try to combine that physical reinforcement with a skill.


    Huh.


    "I''ll get back to you on that," I say. "What about the shield?"


    The rest of the meeting goes pretty much in this way, with Gheraa explaining to me what Inspect already tells me about the Inspirations, though in much less detail than Inspect does. Once or twice, I catch him lying just slightly about the function of an Inspiration. I don''t call him out on it.


    My choice is pretty clear, anyway. As far as versatility goes, Aspect of Regrowth is the way to go. Even if I disregard everything else it can do, I can apply it to Tough Body and basically heal myself, which is a skill I''m lacking so far.


    Gheraa seems to approve of the choice, too. "Just so you know, this is going to hurt," he tells me cheerfully. I blink. It''s a rose. How can it possibly¡ª


    The sensation of roots growing through my body abruptly cuts through my thoughts with a searing flash of pain. It lasts only for a split second, though I swear I taste blood in my mouth for that split second. I catch Gheraa giving me a sympathetic look before it''s covered up by his signature careless cheer.


    "Well, see you next time!" he says¡ª


    ¡ªand the world resumes around me. I double over, my body briefly seized by a sensation of crawling before I get myself under control again. Ahkelios stares at me, concerned.


    "...Don''t worry about it," I say. I have no idea what he''ll do if I tell him I have a plant-based Inspiration. That''s a problem for future-Ethan to worry about.


    For now, I reflect back on the experience. Gheraa told me he''d prepare and that he''d be ready next time, but he hasn''t given me much more in this conversation except to imply that he''d intentionally given me a skill.


    Come to think of it, I wonder if he''s behind the early Temporal Echo rolls, too. But more importantly, if I''m right about Phaseslip...


    I take a deep breath, activate the skill, and feel the world twist sideways.

 98 — Book 2, Chapter 35 — Its Just A Phase

    The first thing I have to get over is the skill being immensely disorienting. It''s worse than my first few tests of Warpstep ¡ª everything feels off and wrong in a way that''s hard to articulate. Ahkelios also immediately falls through my shoulder and onto the floor, which is the only positive thing about this experience.


    "Hey!" he complains.


    "Sorry," I say. "Had to test out the skill." I lean down to pick him up again. Phaseslip seems to allow me to choose what I can and can''t interact with, at least once I exert conscious control over it. It''s basically an intangibility skill.


    Which is... useful in so many more ways than just avoiding a punch, actually. Must be why it''s a Rank A skill. I''m grateful it at least has the basic courtesy of not pulling me straight through the floor ¡ª losing a loop by accidentally falling into the planet''s core would have been embarrassing, even for me.


    There''s something interesting about using this skill. Everything around me looks normal, at least visually, but it''s a different story if I try to observe the world through my Firmament sense or using Firmament Sight.


    Now if only I could express how different. It''s difficult to describe the phenomenon. It''s like seeing an overlay of the world that''s about five degrees left of where it should be, except replace ''left'' with a direction perpendicular to anything one might imagine in three dimensional space.


    It''s a little headache inducing. I have to squint against the effect ¡ª part of the problem is that there are multiple overlays, most of them just barely brushing against my Firmament sense. I can''t do much more than tell that they''re there. Maybe once I get a little more used to it, or once I fine tune it with Firmament Control or alter it with an Inspiration, I''ll be able to do more.


    I know what I''m looking for. I''m looking for anything that might be Integrator-related ¡ª any space they might be hiding in, watching us Trialgoers go about our Trials. Once or twice, I think I almost sense something against just the barest edge of my perception. It disappears as quickly as it shows.


    I sigh and let the Phaseslip drop.


    "You okay?" Ahkelios asks, concerned.


    "I''m fine." I wave a hand dismissively. "Skill''s just a bit headache inducing. I''ll need to get used to it."


    Though there''s no way to get used to it without activating it again. At least it doesn''t strain my Firmament in any significant way...


    I finally realize that Virin has been staring at me this entire time, with a combination of bemusement and concern. I blink, then let out a short, embarrassed laugh. "I, uh... forgot you were there."


    "Could tell," Virin says dryly. "You not hurt, yes?"


    "I''m fine," I say. "Just got a new skill, is all. Need some time to get used to it."


    "It look interesting." Virin gives me a keenly interested look. "You do it again? I want try something."


    I blink, but shrug and acquiesce. I don''t see any harm in it. This time, I''m prepared for the way the world warps around me; I take a deep breath and steady myself as my vision and my senses overlay shift out of sync once again.


    Virin pokes me, and his finger goes straight through me. He cocks his head, and I can feel through my Firmament sense that he''s funneling Firmament into his arm, trying to see if that makes a difference ¡ª it doesn''t. Firmament or no, physical objects phase straight through my body.


    It''s strange seeing solid objects just move through my stomach.


    Then he performs a quick imbuement on a stone and chucks it at me. I don''t move, expecting it to go straight through¡ª


    "Ow," I say. The rock bounces off my forehead and onto the ground. It doesn''t really hurt. Tough Body has long since rendered me mostly immune to things like a pebble being thrown at my head. It''s just the principle of the matter.


    "It work," Virin says proudly. He nods to himself, folding his wings over his chest. "You be careful, yes? Look at attack carefully." He picks up the imbued stone to me, and I finally pick up on exactly what he''s done. There''s a thin layer of Firmament hovering just above the surface of the stone.


    "Huh," I say. That is something I''m going to have to watch out for. "Thanks."


    "Many imbued items like this," Virin says. "Especially bad imbuement! Bad imbuement leak. Lots of Firmament around object."


    "Good to know." I''m already wondering if I can counter it in some way. Maybe if I use the Void Inspiration to modify Tough Body so that it peels the outermost layer of Firmament off of anything that tries to hit me...


    Although even a second''s mistake means I''m going to have a solid object embedded inside my body. I wince. That... won''t be a fun technique to train, even if it does work.


    "Anyway," I say, changing the subject. Virin looks up at me patiently. I''m only just now noticing how short the crows are compared to me ¡ª they aren''t small, by any means, and I''m sure if Virin stretched to his full height he''d be taller than I am. But like most of the crows, he''s slightly hunched over in a forward-leaning position. "You were saying something about making imbuement stones?"


    "Yes!" Virin flaps his wings a little, clearly excited by the subject. It''s almost loud enough to wake up his daughter, who grumbles in her nest; he immediately settles down, chastised. "You need flood stone with Firmament to make imbuement stone. Easy."


    "Just... flood it with Firmament?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "How''s that different from a normal imbuement?"


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    "Watch," Virin says. He holds out an ordinary stone ¡ª not an imbuement stone specifically crafted to absorb Firmament, but a pebble he finds on the ground ¡ª and pushes his Firmament into it. "This imbuement. See?"


    I can see the way his Firmament imbues into the natural Firmament of the stone. "Yes."


    "Now, make imbuement stone." The amount of Firmament Virin is controlling suddenly flares. He doesn''t use a lot of it, per se, but he does pack into an ultra-dense ball of energy that he fires into the stone. It reminds me of the few times I''ve watched a blacksmith at work ¡ª the Firmament he uses is burning with enough power to shove out both the natural Firmament and the imbuement he just placed into the stone.


    Then I watch as he hammers the new Firmament into place.


    Despite what he says, it''s not at all easy. I can sense what he''s doing, even moreso now that Phaseslip is active; I realize abruptly that the skill is making it a bit easier to peer down through the layers of Firmament. And with that insight, I can see what Virin is actually doing. He''s not just hammering the shell of Firmament into place ¡ª he''s peeling apart the inner structure of Firmament into distinct layers.


    But there''s a limit to what the rock itself can hold. If I stretch my senses as far as possible, if I push Phaseslip a little farther, pour more Firmament into the skill... I can almost sense the way Firmament bonds to the physical object. There''s a physical limitation Virin is fighting with ¡ª the chaotic arrangement of compounds and atoms within the stone makes it so that the new Firmament struggles to bond with it. I can sense that the newly-created imbuement stone is weaker than it would have been otherwise, if Virin had used a purer stone or one that was more ordered structurally...


    At least this explains the imbuement stones I''ve encountered so far all look like crystals of some sort. But if purity and structure are the only requirements for Firmament to bond easily with matter, then crystals are definitely not where the possibilities end.


    My mind''s already churning with possibilities ¡ª with new things to look out for. I''m not so arrogant as to believe I''m the only one that''s thought of using other mundane substances as replacements for imbuement.


    Virin exhales with relief as he finishes forging the new imbuement stone. It''s not an enormously powerful one by any means; at a glance, it''s maybe about as powerful as the Shallow stones I picked up from the Arena. But considering he''s made it out of an ordinary rock and not a gemstone, I consider that impressive.


    "There!" he says proudly. I eye the stone for a moment, taking it into my hands and studying it.


    "Virin," I say. "Do people ever use objects other than gemstones? Things that aren''t stones, even."


    "To turn into imbuement stone?" Virin looks thoughtful. "I not sure. I think I heard before! But I never try. You have idea?"


    "Some," I admit. I''m not sure now''s the best time to try it out, partly because I don''t have access to any of the materials I want to test this technique with, yet. "But before we get to that, can we try making imbuement stones?"


    "Yes!" Virin nods. "You try. I want see how you do."


    I grimace. That almost certainly means he expects me to fail, doesn''t it?


    Well, if I''m going to fail, let''s get it over with.


    <hr>


    Virin''s prediction was... mostly correct.


    Packing Firmament in as dense as Virin was able to is difficult even with my improved Firmament Control. Somehow the ability to move it around more effectively doesn''t seem to translate into a similar ability to force it inward, though theoretically it''s the same thing.


    "Try fold Firmament," Virin insists. It''s the same thing he''s been saying for the past half hour or so. I try not to let a frustrated growl escape from my throat, though I''m pretty sure I make some sort of strangled, annoyed noise, considering the way Ahkelios is smirking at me.


    "I am trying," I grunt. His idea of folding Firmament isn''t literal, as far as I can tell. I''ve watched him do it a few times, and the process involves packing the Firmament layers on top of themselves ¡ª almost inverting it rather than folding it. The whole process feels to my Firmament sense like he''s turning the Firmament inside out and causing it to shrink to half its size.


    Which is very, very confusing, to be clear. I don''t think I''m about to get this anytime soon.


    "I''m going to take a break from this," I finally say. I don''t like admitting defeat, but I''ve already made a lot of progress with imbuement, and I don''t really want to stay here messing with Firmament when there''s so much of everything else going on. I''m almost certain I''ve given both Mari and Tarin enough time to do... whatever it is they''re doing, now. "I should probably go see what Tarin''s up to. I think I have to head back to Isthanok."


    "If you sure," Virin says doubtfully. "You come back before you leave, ok? I need you help remember imbuement testing!"


    Right, right. Virin mentioned he wanted my help with more... destructive tests on imbuement that he wouldn''t perform if not for the reality of the time loop.


    "I''ll try," I say. I''m not sure where my future loops are going to take me, but Virin''s been patient with me and taught me a lot. Trying is the least I can do for him. "I''ll come back before we leave."


    Virin nods. He points a stick at me. "You better!"


    I note, to my amusement, that he''s practicing imbuement even in that act of picking up the stick. What a guy.


    <hr>


    The curtain that functions as a door to Tarin''s hut is thankfully open when I arrive, so I don''t have to deal with the awkwardness of knocking on the wall and calling out for them. Mari is busy and energetically cooking ¡ª so energetically I''m almost certain she''s doing it to distract herself ¡ª and Tarin is sitting in the corner, uncharacteristically silent.


    "Uh... is everything okay?" I ask.


    "Ethan!" Tarin jumps up almost immediately. "You ready? We go back Isthanok!"


    I almost protest. I''m not sure that Isthanok is the logical next step ¡ª I still need to save Rotar and K''hkeri. But I think back to the battle in the Fracture, and... yeah, that''s not happening anytime soon without Guard''s help.


    "More or less ready," I say instead. I glance at Mari ¡ª she still hasn''t said anything, but I can hear her chopping getting more aggressive by the minute. In fact, I can sense that she''s using Firmament to reinforce both her knife and the plank that functions as a cutting board. "Shouldn''t we wait for Mari to finish cooking first...?"


    "Oh! Yes." Tarin seems embarrassed for a moment. "We wait. We eat! Then we go."


    At least the food looks good. I glance between Tarin and Mari. I don''t think they''re fighting, but there''s a definite tension there that wasn''t there before.


    I sigh. "Do either of you want to tell me what''s going on?"


    "No," Mari says shortly.


    "Later!" Tarin says.


    ...That''ll have to do.


    Now to see what Virin is up to before getting Tarin and heading back to Isthanok.


    <hr>


    "Ah, Trialgoer!" Virin looks up excitedly. "Okay, you remember what happen if I do this, okay? This old imbuement stone. Made from old methods. I try activate."


    He holds up an old, moss-covered rock. Ahkelios opens his mouth to comment, but as soon as Virin floods it with Firmament, the rock... bursts into flames. And then evaporates.


    I blink. "...I guess that''s why you wanted to use a time loop to explore this?"


    "Yes," Virin nods, his expression almost concerningly earnest. "You better be telling truth about loop!"


    "I am," I say. "I''ll, uh... make sure to tell you about your rock."

 99 — Book 2, Chapter 36 — City of Glass, Redux

    The journey back to the City of Glass is surprisingly uneventful. I suppose part of it is that we''re used to the trip by now ¡ª I''m able to tune out everything that happens on the way, up to and including the strange interaction with the guards where they take a sample of my Firmament. Nothing''s come of it so far, but I still make sure to give them a fake sample.


    Tarin, as usual, doesn''t bother. I imagine he''s done this plenty of times before he ever met me, though, considering his relationship with Miktik. I doubt them having an additional sample of his Firmament is actually going to make a difference.


    "What happened between you and Mari, anyway?" I ask once we''ve gotten past the Great Gates. Tarin looked like he needed some time to think on the journey, so I haven''t asked about it so far. Now, though, he looks a little more like he''s in the mood to talk.


    "She tell me she worried," Tarin says. We''ve slowed down to a walking pace for the time being. Actually being in Isthanok means we have to be careful about Whisper being able to listen in to everything they say. I''ve never really thought about how suffocating that is, but the difference is stark now that I haven''t had to watch my every word for the past day or so.


    "About what?" I ask. I think I know the answer, but Tarin seems to want to talk it through.


    "Me," Tarin says, which surprises me. It doesn''t exactly mirror what she told me when we last spoke, though that was a different iteration of her. "She worry I lonely."


    "I''m assuming she''s not talking about the kind of loneliness I can help with," I say dryly. Tarin''s expression is almost comically horrified, like he hadn''t even considered that interpretation.


    "No!" he squawks. "Just... I experience many things. She not. You understand?"


    That much I do understand. Tarin''s essentially moving on without her. He''s having new experiences, encountering new people, fighting new fights ¡ª and Mari is stuck in place. I haven''t made any progress in figuring out how to bring someone else into the loop intentionally, nor do I really know where to start, even with all the strides I''ve made in Firmament and imbuement.


    "Yeah," I say. That''s a little closer to what Mari talked to me about. "Do you know what you want to do about it? I''ve been wondering if I might be able to bring her into the loop somehow..."


    To my surprise, Tarin immediately shakes his head. "She not want join," he says. "She say experiencing same thing too many times not easy."


    A short silence. Then Tarin continues, "she right."


    I don''t have anything to say to that.


    "You don''t seem bored with the loops," Ahkelios points out. His chosen perch this time is on top of my head, nestled in my hair. "Not yet, anyway."


    "I not bored," Tarin says. "Many things interesting. But for how long?"


    "As long as you can handle it, I suppose," I say.


    Maybe I''ve been looking at this the wrong way. Maybe I shouldn''t be looking for a way to get Mari in, but a way to get Tarin out.


    I''m not sure I like the idea of that.


    <hr>


    Isthanok looms ahead of us. The first indication that it''s near is the crystalline palace in the sky that directs the sun''s glare almost directly into my eyes. This is also the first time I notice that Tough Body seems to passively increase my ability to stare into powerful sources of light without being blinded. Not that I''m about to try staring into the sun or anything.


    As more of the city comes into view, however, I almost immediately notice that things are... different. I slow down, bleeding off the speed skills I''ve been using, and next to me Tarin does the same. We exchange cautious glances.


    "I don''t remember there being this many guards before," I say quietly.


    More accurately, I don''t remember there being any guards before. Security within Isthanok is mostly handled by He-Who-Guards and his many bodies, as I understand it. I don''t ever really see them around, so presumably they''re good at hiding.


    Even in the last loop, where Guard began injured and apparently dying, there hadn''t been any guards stationed at the borders of Isthanok. So one of two things must have happened: either Guard''s condition is much worse than before, or Whisper was able to pass on a message about the Trialgoer being active.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    I grimace. The changes don''t bode well, but this doesn''t really change what we have to do.


    "We''re not going to visit Miktik this time," I mutter. I feel compelled to be quiet even though we''re still well out of Whisper''s range ¡ª at least, I''m pretty sure we are. The Firmament doesn''t get collected into her palace from this far away. "Don''t want to put her at risk, and we''ve already seen the design for her Firmament sink."


    "Your design not complete," Tarin points out, entirely reasonably.


    "I''m sure I can make do," I say. Ahkelios makes it a point to rap me on the skull, at this point, and I sigh. "...Okay, we''ll talk to Miktik. But I don''t want to involve her any more than necessary. At this point I''m tired of seeing Whisper abuse her."


    From the grim look on Tarin''s face and the way he tenses up, I''m pretty sure he agrees. He confirms it a second later. "She try it again and I fight her."


    "Not kill?"


    Tarin snorts. "I not kill Whisper. She too strong. But I can be very, very annoying."


    I can''t argue with that. The idea of Tarin swooping in and out at his blistering pace and annoying Whisper makes me smirk a bit.


    That smirk quickly falls away as we approach the guards that stand at the border to Isthanok.


    They''re both silverwisps, and considering how unkempt their uniforms are and the way they keep looking nervously between one another, I''m guessing neither of them are used to the job ¡ª they hold their weapons like they''re toys rather than weapons.


    Their weapons are large marbles filled with deadly Firmament. I hope they know what side the Firmament is supposed to come out from ¡ª the spherical shape doesn''t really give you a lot of clues. I can tell there''s a cone of energy in there with my Firmament sense, but barring that, there are no markings that might indicate a firing direction.


    "That looks like a disaster waiting to happen," I mutter.


    The noise is enough for the two silverwisps to take notice. One of them steps forward. "What''s your purpose in Isthanok today?" he asks. I note the sudden concentration of Firmament being drawn up to Whisper''s palace ¡ª she''s listening in.


    "Visit!" Tarin squawks. "We want visit¡ª"


    "¡ªa kobold-run shop we heard about," I interrupt. "I think it''s called Thys and Thaht?"


    Tarin gives me a baffled look. I ignore him.


    "Really?" the guard seems surprised. I feel the focused Firmament waver a bit ¡ª Whisper''s lost interest and is going back to passive listening. "Not a very popular shop, that one."


    "Why not?" I ask.


    He shrugs. "Too many explosions," he says, waving a hand. "How long will you be staying in Isthanok?"


    "Not long," I say. "Maybe a day or two. We''re going to check out the Craven Arena, too."


    "Oh?" the guard leans forward, suddenly interested. "As a spectator, or a fighter?"


    ...That smells like a trap. I feign embarrassment and laugh. "I doubt I''d last a second in the ring."


    "Most people don''t," the silverwisp says, his pendant displaying a smirk. He takes a step back ¡ª evidently, I gave him the answer he wanted to hear ¡ª and waves us both in. "You''re clear. Enjoy your time in Isthanok."


    Tarin and I make our way past him, a little bemused by the whole experience. Everything inside Isthanok hasn''t changed, at least. The Firmament feels a little different, but I''m guessing that''s because of Guard''s absence, which speaks volumes as to his power.


    "We go shop?" Tarin asks. His way of asking about the kobold shop I mentioned, I suppose. Anything more specific might be an obvious tipoff, especially if Whisper knows that the Trial is now active.


    "Let''s get your friend first," I say. "Bring her along. I''m sure she''d be interested in what they''ve got."


    I''m not just saying that, either. Whatever tech or imbuements they use are seriously impressive, considering the difficulty I had against that one piloted robot. Tarin nods thoughtfully in response.


    We make our way once more to Miktik''s workshop, ducking through the hole in the fence and the Firmament barrier that separates the two sections of the city. Like before, the abrupt change in noise is jarring ¡ª this part of the city is much louder than any other. I wonder if that''s why the barrier exists, to dampen and filter out the sound that Whisper receives as she listens in on the city. It''s not like that''s a trivial imbuement to keep running.


    "Something feel different," Tarin says suddenly. I blink.


    "Does it?" I glance around. Nothing looks particularly out of the ordinary.


    "I feel it too," Ahkelios says. The little guy twitches in his spot in my hair ¡ª I can''t see him, but I can feel him shifting uncomfortably. Not a great sign.


    I flick on Firmament Sight. My natural Firmament sense is good, but I''m not able to organize the information as quickly as I can with a visual reference. The moment I do, I see it.


    There''s... a gradient, for lack of a better word. The Firmament looks normal at first glance, but a second look shows that it''s getting gradually denser as it approaches the direction of Miktik''s workshop, and while the workshop itself is still out of range for me, this is enough to warrant caution.


    Evidently, Ahkelios and Tarin have developed their instincts enough to know when something is wrong, even if they can''t pinpoint what it is. I''ll have to work on that.


    "There''s some kind of concentration of Firmament up ahead," I say. "It''s subtle, but it''s there."


    Ahkelios opens his mouth to ask me a question, then pauses, sending said question through our bond instead. What changed this time? he asks. Whisper took longer to send for MIktik last time. This is too soon.


    I shrug. No idea, I admit. But I''m guessing Whisper has some idea of what''s going on now.


    You think she''s got something to do with this, then?


    Maybe. It''s the only thing I can think of, anyway. We''ll find out. Not like a bit of Firmament is going to stop us.

 100 — Book 2, Chapter 37 — Signs

    With the strange change in Firmament density going toward Miktik''s workshop, I was almost expecting the building itself to be shining with Firmament. It''s not. It''s barely different than it normally is ¡ª the Firmament is densest here, certainly, but that''s the only real difference...


    ...No. The imbuement cycling through her walls is moving faster, too. The Firmament within it is noticeably more powerful. As far as I can tell, every bit of stray Firmament is being drawn into it, with nothing allowed to escape for Whisper to collect.


    Interesting.


    "I think we might be about to interrupt something," I say. I glance at Tarin. "Probably best if you go in first."


    "I go first," Tarin agrees. I''m not sure if it''s because he agrees with the plan or because he just wants to go first, but either way, he makes his way to the entrance to her workshop.


    Then he stops and squawks in indignation. "Why door missing?!" he demands.


    I blink and walk up to him. He''s right. The entrance to Miktik''s workshop is normally a semi-hidden passageway in the midst of the broken shard she calls a home, sort of cut into the facets of the crystal. It''s only visible from some angles. But right now, it just... isn''t there. In its place is a seamless mass of crystal that blends in perfectly with the rest of the crashed building.


    I poke it experimentally, just in case it''s an illusion. It''s not.


    "Huh," I say.


    This is a lot of security. More than any I saw Miktik use, even when it came to discussing her Firmament sink with us. I can sense the seams in the Firmament where the passageway should be ¡ª the imbuement doesn''t run perfectly through that area. There''s a subtle shift in direction and speed as it moves through the location, like light being refracted through glass.


    Which doesn''t exactly tell me how to open the passageway.


    I stare at it. Other than the seams I can feel with my Firmament sense, there''s no obvious mechanism I could use to move the crystal out of the way.


    ...Actually, this is a perfect use case for Phaseslip, isn''t it? The torrent of Firmament rushing through the door might prove a problem, but Virin''s experimentation tells me that it''s only a problem if the imbuement leaks out of the object its in. Whatever upgrade Miktik''s security system just got, it''s made it more vulnerable to me, because all that Firmament is perfectly held within the crystal¡ª


    Tarin, apparently tired of me staring at the door and trying to decide how to get through it, steps forward and knocks sharply on the crystal. "Friend!" he calls out. "I here! Where your door?"


    ...Or, I suppose, we could just knock. Maybe that should''ve been my first, go-to solution.


    There''s a silence that lasts for long enough that I start to wonder if I should try to Phaseslip through the door anyway, but almost as soon as I start channeling my Firmament, the crystal in front of us just... melts away. I have to look down to see Miktik, who''s frantically waving us in.


    We take the hint and hurry into her workshop. Behind us, I feel the walls once more close around the entrance.


    That''s... matter manipulation. The melting wasn''t just a visual effect ¡ª the stone is crystal is actually melting into place. That feels like a really advanced imbuement.


    "Tarin!" Miktik hisses once the so-called door closes behind us. "What are you doing here?! Miktik wasn''t expecting you! And who''s your friend? And how did you even get into Isthanok?"


    "I come help," Tarin sniffs. "You too many questions!"


    "She has a right to ask them," I say dryly. I look past her into her workshop, where a small crowd of others stand. Among them, to my surprise, are Thys and Thaht, the kobolds I met in the Arena whose shop we were supposed to visit. Another is a silverwisp that bows his head toward me and gives me the same finger-twist salute that Thys and Thaht both greeted me with.


    I think I''m getting an idea of what''s going on here. The imbuement around this place is solid. If I''m wrong... well, I won''t have to worry about Whisper sending a message back to her past self, at least.


    "We''re here because we need to figure out what''s going on with He-Who-Guards," I say. Tarin''s jaw drops ¡ª metaphorically, he mostly just opens his beak wide ¡ª and I suppress the urge to grin. He''s probably thinking about all the times I cautioned him against just revealing who we were and what we were doing. "It''s a long story, but the important thing you need to know is that the Trial has started, and I''m the Trialgoer."


    Everyone in Miktik''s workshop erupts into whispers. Miktik herself just stares for a moment, then sighs.


    "Miktik should have known Tarin would only come here to bring trouble," she mutters to herself. "Is the Trial why Whisper is acting so strangely?"


    "Probably," I say. "We don''t know what happened. Why don''t you fill us in on what changed starting a day or so ago?"


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Miktik gives me a strange look. "...All instances of He-Who-Guards returned to Whisper''s palace," she says. "And Whisper installed normal guards all over the city. It''s made things harder on us than normal. We''re trying to figure out why."


    "Who ''us''?" Tarin asks. He''s still out of the loop.


    Miktik sighs. "I suppose we might as well let you in on it," she mutters. "It''s not like I don''t trust you. Not sure I trust the Trialgoer, but he''s already figured us out, so."


    "You''re a rebel group of some sort," I say. The imbuement around Miktik''s workshop, the secrecy, the fact that Miktik herself is using Integrator technology in her workshop. Salvage or not, access to that kind of tech happens only if you''re either very well-connected, or very determined.


    Miktik, it seems, is both.


    Then there''s that hand gesture the silverwisp greeted me with. For a town that''s under constant audio surveillance, a nonverbal means of communication is the perfect way for a group of rebels to recognize one another ¡ª although I notice that salute isn''t one Miktik can perform. She doesn''t really have the fingers for it.


    Must be hard to come up with something that accommodates all species.


    "Yes," Miktik confirms. She seems a little more comfortable and in-her-element now, at the very least. "You caught us in the middle of a meeting, but if you''re the Trialgoer, then we could use your help. Assuming you''re on our side."


    "Hestia''s Trialgoers want to kill me or study me, as far as I can tell," I say dryly. "And they''re all pawns of the Integrators. I''m not exactly interested in working with them."


    "Good," Miktik says. She sounds a little relieved, though she hides it well. "We could use a Trialgoer."


    "Wait, wait," Tarin protests. He flaps his wings a little and makes his way further into the room, fluffing up his feathers as he does so. "What type rebel? You fight Whisper?"


    Miktik exchanges glances with the rest of the rebels in the room. Thys and Thaht are both surprisingly quiet; besides them, there is the silverwisp that greeted me, another crow that''s presumably the same species as Tarin, and an antlike warrior I''m assuming is another morphling. I note to my relief that this one isn''t wearing a void suit.


    "We fight Whisper, yes," Miktik answers eventually. "You might have noticed that she controls almost everyone in the city. Not directly, but using her Whispers and her assassins. She has a rigid idea of how she wants ''her'' city to run, and if anyone goes against her, she uses her Interface skills to make their lives very painful. You don''t want to experience it yourself, trust me."


    "I already have," I say, grimacing at the memory of her Whisper burning through me. "You have a counter for it you''re developing, right? A Firmament sink of some sort that draws in her Firmament and reduces the strain on your system?"


    Miktik looks surprised, then suspicious. "How do you know about that?"


    "Because he''s a spy," the crow calls out from the back of the room. She leans back in her chair, glowering at the both of us. Her feathers, I note, are a lot glossier than Tarin''s; she seems much younger. She''s also glaring at me.


    "If I were a spy, I''d be coming here to learn about the countermeasures you have. I wouldn''t know about them already," I say dryly.


    "He has a point!" Thys says. "I don''t know why, but I trust him."


    Thaht gives his brother a look. "We''ve talked about how easily you trust people."


    "This one''s different."


    "That''s what you always say!"


    The silverwisp interrupts both brothers. "Perhaps it''s best we begin with introductions," he says smooth. "I am He-Who-Wanders."


    "Thys and Thaht," both kobolds chorus together.


    "Name''s Bimar," the crow grunts.


    "I am he who is named Vahrkos," the morphling says, speaking for the first time. His voice is surprisingly deep. "If you are aware of morphling physiology, please also be aware that my other selves are currently indisposed. I do not wish to talk about them, so I would appreciate it if you avoid questions about them."


    He-Who-Wanders shoots Vahrkos a sympathetic look that I fail to entirely comprehend ¡ª there''s something in his gaze, so I''m guessing the silverwisp knows more about Vahrkos''s situation. He holds out his hand, and Vahrkos seems to appreciate the gesture; I see the morphling take the hand and let out a slow breath, calming himself down from some invisible trauma.


    "I''m Ethan," I say. "I''ve met some of you before. You probably already know who Tarin is, if Miktik has talked about him at all. And¡ª"


    "I''m Ahkelios!" Ahkelios interrupts me before I can complete my side of the introductions, piping up from his spot in my hair. Thys and Thaht both drop their jaws, their eyes gleaming with excitement. He-Who-Wanders flinches for a second before steadying himself. Vahrkos doesn''t react.


    Bimar has the biggest reaction of all, because she nearly falls off the chair she''s rocking backward on. "Is that a talking ornament?" she demands.


    Oh boy. "He''s not an ornament¡ª" I start.


    "I''m not an ornament!" Ahkelios sounds greatly offended, and I groan. "I''m his familiar! And a very useful one, let me tell you!"


    "You''re also my friend," I remind him.


    "Oh yeah. That too."


    "Why do you have a talking ornam¡ª familiar?" Bimar corrects herself as Ahkelios bristles. I can feel his intent to spring himself off my head and launch himself at her.


    "It''s a very complicated story," I say. I don''t think this is the right time to reveal that Hestia as a planet has been stuck hosting the same Trial for hundreds of iterations. "And it''s not what''s important right now. What''s important is that I can help you improve those Firmament sinks you''re using."


    I think. I don''t say those words out loud. I''ve learned a lot more about imbuement since the last time I tried, and the imbuement stone I used back then was... reasonably effective against Whisper. I have no doubt I can make a better one now with some of the techniques I''ve just learned.


    More importantly, improving the Firmament sinks ¡ª provided Miktik actually has the materials to outfit us with them ¡ª will give us the ability to get close to Guard without Whisper being able to use her primary skill on us. Phaseslip should let me slip past most of her defenses.


    Speaking of which...


    "What''s the story behind He-Who-Guards, anyway?" I ask. "You guys seem to know who he is, so I assume it''s not some deeply held secret."


    MIktik exchanges glances with the other rebels again, and I catch the wince passing through them all. "You haven''t heard?" she asks. "It''s not a secret. But... it''s kind of a mess.


    "To put it simply, He-Who-Guards and She-Who-Whispers were once lovers. Then Whisper was chosen for the Trial, and Guard began to die."

 101 — Book 2, Chapter 38 — Symptoms

    He-Who-Guards remembered when he first met She-Who-Whispers.


    She was stunning, he remembered thinking. The daughter of the then-ruler of Isthanok ¡ª as close a thing to a princess as their Great City could have. It wasn''t necessarily her beauty that fascinated him, though that was no small part of it. It was her force of personality. She believed in a vision, and she took whatever steps needed to make that vision come to life.


    He couldn''t have imagined, then, what the Trials would do to her. How the Integrators would take that trait that gave her life and beauty and twist it into something monstrous.


    "I want the city to be perfect," she told him. "Look at it. It''s a ruin for what we call a Great City. We live in the remnants of what someone else built. One day, these towers will fly again."


    To her credit, she''d accomplished exactly that. Many of the once-destroyed shards now once again hung in the skies of Isthanok, beautiful and pristine.


    At the time, He-Who-Guards hadn''t considered the price that might be paid for her dreams. He''d been enamored with her, really. A little foolish, in hindsight, but... their friendship had been genuine. He was sure of it.


    "I am sure you will restore the city," He-Who-Guards said. He fidgeted, an unfamiliar nervousness coursing through the mist of his body . There was a part of him that was drawn to her determination, her willingness to enact change. He wanted to be a part of it.


    "You''ll help me, won''t you?" she asked.


    "Of course," he said, bowing his head. "I am here to serve."


    She rolled her eyes. "You have to stop saying that," She-Who-Whispers said, throwing a pillow at him. "I can''t believe my dad hired a kid my own age to guard the palace. And you know he wants you to be my friend, right? Not my servant."


    "Yes, well..." He-Who-Guards shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. "It is difficult to get used to the idea."


    "Why are you a guard, anyway? You''re way too young." She peered at him curiously. "What makes you so special?"


    "Nothing," he said. It was a lie. The amount of Firmament he commanded was enormous. The strength he possessed, even at his age, allowed him to create perfect barriers that nothing could penetrate. It was the whole reason he''d chosen his name.


    "You''re lying to me," She-Who-Whispers accused, her body language emanating petulance. Despite himself, He-Who-Guards grinned.


    "Perhaps I am," he said. "If you''re lucky, you will get the chance to find out."


    He remembered the way she laughed at that, her eyes bright. He didn''t need to look at her pendant to understand that she was delighted by his response, though he couldn''t fathom why.


    He-Who-Guards had gotten used to her eventually. He allowed himself to relax, to become someone he never thought he could be. She-Who-Whispers made him feel normal ¡ª and that was a precious thing for someone like him. He''d been born with too much Firmament. His sheer strength was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because he could do things with his Firmament that no one else could, and a curse because the sheer strength of it eroded his own body and the very structure of his soul. The stuff that kept his Firmament in place.


    He never told her, of course. As the days passed, he grew stronger, and the end of his life grew closer. He was shedding Firmament to the point where it was nearly visible ¡ª a constant glow to the silvery mist that made up his body.


    There came a point where he couldn''t hide it any longer.


    "Why are you always glowing?" She-Who-Whispers asked. There was a playful lilt to her voice ¡ª she was teasing him. "It''s not because you''re around me, is it?"


    He-Who-Guards was glad he was facing away from her, and she could not see the expression on his pendant. "It''s, ah... private."


    "Are you keeping a secret from me?" she narrowed her eyes at him. "You can''t keep a secret from me."


    "I think you will find that I can. I have so far," he said dryly. Then he cursed to himself. Evidently, he was quite bad at keeping secrets from She-Who-Whispers.


    "Aha!" She-Who-Whispers exclaimed, triumphant. "You are hiding something from me."


    "Only for your own sake," he said.


    "You know how I feel about things being done ''for my sake''."


    He-Who-Guards sighed. "It''s just Firmament. No big deal." A small lie. It couldn''t hurt that badly, could it?


    "Oh." She-Who-Whispers stared at him for a moment. "You''re still hiding something."


    "Perhaps."


    "I want you to be my consort."


    That made He-Who-Guards sputter, the abrupt change in topic throwing him for a loop. "W-what?"


    "You heard me!" She-Who-Whispers smirked. "I want you to be my consort. So if you''ve got something to hide, you better tell me now, before my dad announces it to the city."


    "Announces it to the¡ª" He-Who-Guards cut himself off. "Why would he announce it to the city?!"


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    "I asked him to."


    "Why would you..." he sighed. "...Whisper, this isn''t going to work. I like you, but I have ten Hestian cycles left in me. Maybe less."


    "What."


    He-Who-Guards remembered the abrupt change in her voice. It was chilling. She went from bright and warm and playful to something abruptly cold. The utter lack of emotion in her voice made dread coil through his Firmament.


    "...I have a condition," He-Who-Guards explained. "My Firmament. It is too strong to stay together. It will all unravel ¡ª it is only a matter of time."


    Silence.


    When he turned around to look for her, she was gone.


    He''d thought she abandoned him back then. That the news he''d given her was too much, for whatever reason ¡ª that she was choosing to protect her heart. He would have understood if that was what she did.


    But no. She''d left to throw herself into work, into finding a cure. He''d never seen her with so many books, speaking to so many specialists and practitioners of Firmament. He''d never seen her try this hard even when it came to rebuilding Isthanok, and that had been her passion for as long as he could remember.


    And then came Integration Day.


    He flung open a door, then hurried down the staircase, looking for anything that might tell him where She-Who-Whispers was. She loved her schedules and her timetables ¡ª she was never missing. Not when she had something planned. For her to be more than an hour late was unheard of, and in combination with the news that thousands of Hestians had simply vanished...


    He hoped against hope that she wasn''t one of them ¡ª but when he threw open the doors to her room and saw the perfectly spherical chunk taken out of it, felt the remnants of foreign Firmament contaminating everything nearby, he knew.


    Whisper was gone.


    The worst part was that part of him had almost felt relieved. Not that she was gone, but that she would no longer be throwing herself into the pointless task of saving him. With any luck, he would be gone by the time she returned, and she would be able to put her energy back into the one thing she truly wanted to do.


    Things hadn''t worked out that way, of course.


    Really, he should have known better than to underestimate her.


    She-Who-Whispers came back changed.


    He-Who-Guards knew it from the first moment he saw her ¡ª there was something in her eyes that was cold. He''d only caught a glimpse of that coldness once before, when she''d first learned that his death was inevitable, but now she seemed to wear it like armor rather than hide it within.


    Her gaze warmed again when she looked at him, though only slightly. "He-Who-Guards," she greeted. The formalization of his name made his Firmament stir uncomfortably. "I have found a cure for your condition."


    He didn''t know then how much of a fool he would be to trust her.


    His biggest mistake, he supposed, wasn''t necessarily that he trusted her. He didn''t regret trusting people he cared about ¡ª trust was something he had chosen to never regret. He gave his trust when it was earned, and if that trust was ever broken, he didn''t blame himself for choosing to trust. It was on the other party for breaking it.


    Whisper had certainly broken his trust. Whatever happened to her during her Trial had turned her into someone that was only a mockery of who she had been. He saw everything she used to be magnified to the point of absurdity. Mild perfectionism became an obsessive need for control; where she once respected the thoughts and ideas of others, she now only listened to herself.


    He hadn''t managed to learn much about what her Trial had been about. From the few details she''d told him, she had to rule over a kingdom of others. He couldn''t tell if she''d been put in charge of it, or if she''d worked her way into being in charge, somehow. The subjects she commanded were apparently tied to her will, and constantly under siege from outside forces. Unless she controlled everything perfectly, she would lose and die, and start over with a different kingdom.


    He could imagine how that might have changed her. He just couldn''t have imagined it would change her this much.


    "You''ll be fine," she told him. Her voice was clipped, her focus on a bunch of diagrams and models floating in front of her. Scattered around her were mechanical parts, the technology several steps ahead of anything he''d seen in any of the Great Cities so far, let alone Isthanok. "The procedure might hurt a little, but you will be perfect afterward."


    He didn''t like the way she said ''perfect''. "I would prefer not to go through with this, Whisper."


    She turned around to look at him. She seemed to consider his request for a moment ¡ª but then she shook her head sharply. "I can''t have you dying," she told him. "I still need you to protect this city."


    There was a lot hidden in those words. ''I still need you.'' He-Who-Guards glimpsed something genuine in that. But she''d followed it up immediately with ''to protect this city'', and the dispassionate ruthlessness with which she''d returned had immediately taken over once more.


    It was the same way he''d seen it when she first returned. She wore it like armor.


    In truth, that made him wish he had done more to fight the Integrators. He had tried, when Hestians had first been taken, but there was nothing he could do ¡ª not only because they were stronger than he was, but because he had no means of getting to them. Their announcements came through their Interface, temporarily attaching to them just long enough to drop a message in their vision and then disconnecting once more, before they could learn anything more about it.


    Whisper reached out, clipped something to him¡ª


    And then his world was fire and pain.


    His memories were fragmented, after that. His body was different. He-Who-Guards became metal instead of mist. His Firmament was supported by Whisper''s, and his mind was supported by technology. A cognitive prosthetic, Whisper had called it.


    Sometimes it whispered in him, like it was alive. Like it, too, was struggling against all of this.


    He remembered being ordered to do things he would normally have refused to do. He remembered putting down rebellions before they began, as the first whispers began to race across the streets. He remembered a hundred different bodies marching through the streets, each commanded to keep the peace, no matter the cost.


    He remembered struggling against it. Once or twice, She-Who-Whispers tried to loosen her control of him ¡ª to see if he would obey her orders willingly. He would always pretend to, at first; he saw no other option. But the moment he got the opportunity, he tried to slip free of the leash.


    Eventually, she''d stopped giving him those opportunities at all. Only very rarely did she ever allow him on missions outside of Isthanok, now; only when there were anomalies that were significant enough to pique her interest, or when she needed him to put on a show of force.


    And then came the Fracture. Then came Ethan. He remembered the Trialgoer with startling clarity. The nature of his Firmament kept him from being erased whenever time was rewound, though he would never willingly share those details with Whisper. She had access only to what the technology attached to him recorded, and those were as vulnerable to temporal rewinding as almost everything else.


    It was funny. In many ways, Ethan reminded him of who Whisper had been before the Trials.


    He hoped the Trials wouldn''t break him the same way. But there was a fire in Ethan he''d never seen in Whisper.


    Maybe with Ethan, things could be different.

 102 — Book 2, Chapter 39 — Trial Run

    "...That''s one hell of a story," I mutter. I don''t know how to respond for the longest moment. What Miktik tells me is horrifying and terrifying in equal measure ¡ª horrifying because of what''s being done to Guard, and terrifying because of the sheer amount of power Whisper seems to wield.


    It''s not a surprise, necessarily. I''ve fought her. I know how strong she can be. But if this story is any indication, there are many cards she still has left to play.


    "Do you think Guard is still in there?" I ask. "You said she did something to him, turned him into the robot we see today... but do you think he''s still actually alive?"


    "We''re not sure," Miktik says doubtfully. "There are rumors. Sometimes He-Who-Guards doesn''t act the way we expect him to ¡ª he shows mercy when he otherwise wouldn''t, or lets someone escape him when he could easily catch them. We think that''s him fighting back, but it could just as easily be a trick Whisper is playing."


    I think back to the glimpses I''ve caught of Guard behaving strangely ¡ª the purple Firmament withdrawing to reveal a flash of iridescence within. "I don''t think it''s a trick," I say. I hope it''s not, anyway. I''m still going to need his help getting back into the Fracture, although I''m going to have to convince him to help me first.


    And probably find a cure for him. And defeat Whisper.


    My to-do list is only getting longer. It occurs to me that if I get strong enough to fight Whisper, I might be able to fight the monsters in the Fracture without worrying about Guard.


    It still doesn''t feel right to just leave him be, though. I sigh. "Sometimes having a moral compass is annoying," I mutter.


    Tarin gives me a strange look. "What you say?"


    "Don''t worry about it." I exhale again, looking around the room at the motley group of rebels. "This can''t be all there is to you guys, right? I''m assuming a rebellion can''t be comprised of six people trying to get out from under Whisper''s thumb."


    "Oh, no," Thys says.


    "There''s way more of us," Thaht says. "But Miktik''s workshop doesn''t really have a lot of room, and it''s one of the only places we have that are secure against Whisper."


    "Relatively," Bimar says under her breath. The rest of them ignore her, apparently used to this by now. She sits up in her chair, glowering at me. "And I still don''t trust you enough to answer that. Don''t think I didn''t notice you avoiding the question I asked earlier. How do you know about the Firmament sinks?"


    "I''m the Trialgoer," I say dryly. "You should assume I know a lot of things I''m not supposed to know."


    "Still not answering the question."


    "Would you trust me if I did answer it?" I ask. "Because I doubt you would, and the story is pretty unbelievable anyway."


    "More unbelievable than what you just heard about Whisper and Guard?" Bismar shot back.


    I pause. "...You have a point, there," I admit.


    Whisper more than likely already knows what''s going on. I don''t think it''ll hurt that much to tell Miktik and the others about the loops, as loathe as I am to lose the information advantage. Unlike the Hestian Trialgoers, the rebels don''t have a way to pass information back to themselves, so the worst they can do is try to manipulate my actions by limiting or altering the information they give me...


    ...which they''re even more likely to do if I don''t tell them the truth.


    "So you''ll believe me," I say. "Even if I tell you that the reason I know is time travel?"


    There''s a long pause.


    "...Why don''t you tell us the whole story first," Bismar says, her tone guarded.


    <hr>


    It takes longer than I''d like to convince them. They believe me eventually ¡ª it''s difficult not to, when I have Ahkelios and Tarin both to back up my story and Temproral Link to create clones of myself, not to mention my knowledge of Thaht''s war-construct and its weakness to being punched through time. Thaht is simultaneously proud of and insulted by the construct''s ability to withstand a Trialgoer and the fact that its apparent weakness is time.


    "How am I supposed to make something that can defend against a time punch?!" he grumbles. "It''s hard enough defending against Firmament blasts!"


    I shrug. "Cancel out all Firmament it passes through?" I suggest.


    "You say that like it''s easy," Thaht mutters, but he looks thoughtful.


    They do believe me, in the end, and that''s enough for us to get a start. Miktik''s a lot more open with what her tools are and what she can do when she doesn''t have any more secrets to hide ¡ª or no more major secrets to hide, anyway.


    "I do have the materials to make more Firmament sinks," she admits. "But I have to keep a steady supply available for everyone, not just for myself. I wish we could give it to everyone, but the more people we give it to, the more likely it is that Whisper finds out. I''m surprised she didn''t already know as it is. Part of me thought she was just messing with us."


    "She definitely didn''t know when you first used it in front of her," I say. "So whatever you''re doing to keep it secret, it''s working. It just doesn''t take much for her to get past it when she does know."


    "And you said you have a way to improve the design?" Miktik asks.


    "I think so." It''s not as easy as I make it sound. I don''t even have an imbuement stone yet. "Thys, Thaht, you both fight in the Craven Arena. I assume you''ve collected a lot of points by now?"


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    "I don''t bother redeeming anything from the barracks," Thaht says with a shrug. "That place pisses me off. Bought a couple things from the Ringmaster, but that''s about it."


    "I''ve redeemed a few things," Thys says. "Better those weapons go to us than some goon of Whisper''s, right?"


    "Unless it''s trapped," I say. "But I don''t disagree. You think you have enough to grab me some imbuement stones from the Ringmaster?"


    I could use my own points, especially since the Arena''s points seem to tie into the Interface in some way ¡ª but this loop is going to be a tight one as it is, and I''d rather not spend another few days fighting people in a glorified gladiator arena just to get the materials I need. Thys and Thaht exchange glances.


    "We could do that," Thys says cautiously. "But we''ve got some stones in our shop as well. Why don''t you come with us and check it out?"


    "...And you''re not going to trap me in your shop?" I ask dryly.


    Thaht looks offended. "If we wanted to trap you, we wouldn''t use our shop to do it," he says. "That place is our livelihood. You think we want you to blow it up? Besides, if you''re telling the truth about the time travel thing, trapping you would be stupid."


    I laugh. "I don''t know," I say. "You two are pretty smart. I''m sure you could figure out something I need to be careful about."


    Thys and Thaht both look pleased by that remark. If they were planning to launch some kind of trap on me, I''m pretty sure that was enough to change their minds.


    Only one way to know for sure, though.


    "I have enough to outfit everyone here with a prototype Firmament sink," Miktik says. "But if you''re telling the truth, we''re going to need your improvements to stand a chance against Whisper. Do you actually have a plan?"


    "Right now, I just want to see if I can rescue Guard," I say. "I need his help to save Rotar and Ikaara, and I need your help to access the Integrator salvage you told me about. I have a feeling that will help me get into wherever the Integrators live."


    "It''s still going to take time to prepare the protective suits for that," Miktik cautions. "Even if I rush it ¡ª which I can now that you know what I''m doing ¡ª it''s still going to take at least a week."


    "Why do I need a protective suit?" I ask. It''s possible one of the skills I already have from the Interface will provide me with the protection I need. Verdant Armor is a strong skill on its own, and modified with an Inspiration, it should be enough for me to survive near anything. "You told me it''s because the ambient Firmament will crush me, but is that the whole story?"


    "It''s part of it." Miktik hesitates. "The ambient Firmament will crush just about anyone, but you''re a Trialgoer. I can''t say the same will happen to you. The problem for you is the Firmament differential ¡ª even if you can withstand the pressure, the sheer difference in Firmament between you and everything around you is going to force excess Firmament into you."


    "And that''s bad," I say.


    "Like overcharging a battery," Miktik confirms.


    "...So I could explode?"


    "While you''re in there? No. The pressure will force you to stay in place. But the moment you leave..."


    "Got it." I grimace at the idea. "What can you tell me about the salvage yard? Is there going to be anything I can use?"


    Miktik shrugs, a full-body shudder of her plating. "There''s always something useful in there," she says. "The problem is getting deep enough to get it. There are places I can''t get to even with my suit. You might be able to get to those places, but I can''t tell you what you''d find."


    I glance at Ahkelios. "What''re the odds this will help me get to the Integrators themselves?"


    "Pretty high?" Ahkelios hesitates, tapping his arms against each other as if performing a mental calculation. "Pretty high. I never fought any of the Integrators myself or found a way to get to them, but a place that high in ambient Firmament has got to be related to where they are. I bet Phaseslip will show you something while you''re there."


    "Then I guess we''ve got the beginnings of a plan," I say.


    It''s not a good plan, but it''s a start. Get the Firmament sinks completed so we can ignore Whisper''s commands. Find a way to rescue Guard so he can help us rescue Rotar and Ikaara. By that point, hopefully Miktik''s protective suits will be complete, and I can go in and retrieve Gheraa... somehow.


    Just as long as Whisper doesn''t interfere with any of those steps, which she almost certainly will.


    "Well," I say. "Can you guys take me to your shop so we can take a look at those imbuement stones? Miktik, if you send a prototype with me, I can probably work on the sinks while we''re at the workshop instead of carrying them around where Whisper might see it."


    "The only one I have with me is the one I''m using," Miktik says with a slight grimace. "I can lend it to you, just be sure to get it back to me before Whisper¡ª"


    A crystalline sound rings out throughout the workshop. I blink, then glance back toward the sealed entrance.


    "Please tell me that isn''t Whisper," I say.


    Miktik stares at a screen feeding her an image from a camera outside. "Okay," she says. "I won''t."


    "...Who is it?"


    "You told Miktik not to tell you." There''s her nervousness again.


    I feel exhaustion sweep through me. "It''s Whisper, isn''t it?"


    "Yes."


    Another crystalline knock rings out through the workshop.


    "You guys stay here," I say. I take the prototype sink that Miktik is holding out to me. "And don''t open the door."


    Phaseslip.


    I step out through the side of the building, wincing slightly at the strange sensation of solid crystal passing through my body. Whisper''s gaze lands on me the moment my feet touch the dirt and the quietest whisper of a sound echoes through the now-silent air.


    An idea begins to percolate in my head.


    "Trialgoer," she says.


    "What''s a Trialgoer?" I ask, gathering Firmament within me. She narrows her eyes.


    "You know, I thought perhaps we could be allies," she says. "But it appears you have chosen to align yourself against me. Am I wrong?"


    "Probably," I say.


    "Wrong answer," Whisper replies. "I''m never wrong. Now tell me the truth. What are your plans? Who is in there? What have you done with He-Who-Guards?"


    I hear her words as a Whisper on the Wind. Her Firmament coils around me, deadly and insidious, binding itself to my Firmament and attempting to force me to obey.


    Phaseslip.


    The thing is, Phaseslip doesn''t protect me from Firmament attacks. I''m just as vulnerable to them when I''m phased as when I''m not. I learned this when Virin hit me with a rock that was leaking Firmament.


    Which also taught me something else: When I''m phased, I can treat concentrated exposed Firmament like it''s a solid object.


    I grab the coil of Firmament headed toward me, stopping it in its tracks. Whisper''s eyes widen in shock and anger.


    Crystallized Strength.


    For a skill too powerful for the Void to consume, it is remarkably easy ¡ª and satisfying ¡ª to tear it apart.


    "You know, Whisper," I say. "Maybe you should try a different trick for once."

 103 — Book 2, Chapter 40 — Slipping Away

    To say that Whisper is angry is an understatement. I can see the color of her anger turning her Firmament with a dark, stained crimson. It''s so strong it''s impacting the nature of her skills, even without having to use something like Hueshift; I can feel her anger like it''s heat against my skin, and I shift back out of Phaseslip to avoid it.


    "I forgot how arrogant you Trialgoers can get," she sneers at me.


    I cock my head. "Aren''t you a Trialgoer too?"


    The sound she makes is unintelligible, either because she isn''t saying anything in particular or because it''s too warped for the Interface to make sense of it. She has enough self-restraint, thankfully, to not immediately fire a beam of Firmament at me ¡ª out here in the slums of Isthanok, an attack like that would cause devastating casualties.


    It occurs to me, perhaps a little late, that provoking her in the midst of a civilian-populated area is probably not the best of ideas.


    But it''s also the only thing giving me an advantage. For all of Whisper''s faults, she seems hesitant to damage her beloved city. Her perfectionism seems to extend even to this more run-down part of Isthanok. I can see the way her eyes dart between the buildings next to me and behind me, as if trying to figure out if she can launch an attack without destroying a part of her city.


    The answer, apparently, is that she cannot. And that tells me quite a bit about her capabilities all on its own.


    "Why are you even letting the Integrators do this?" I ask. "Hestia isn''t growing. It''s held more than three hundred Trials without any Trialgoer succeeding. Your entire planet is just going through the motions. What''s the point?"


    "Isthanok isn''t perfect yet," Whisper says coldly. "If the time comes, I will free Hestia myself. But not before I fix everything."


    "That''s a better answer than I expected," I say. "It''s still a bad answer, though."


    It takes me a second, but I realize why Whisper isn''t doing anything. The Firmament around and behind her is slightly distorted, the distortion just barely visible because it doesn''t follow the same gradient of density the rest of the Firmament in the area carries; I remember abruptly the frog-like creature that tried to assassinate me in one of the past loops.


    If I''m not missing any of them, there are three of them gathered behind her, each of them aiming a Firmament weapon at me and ready to fire. I keep myself tensed ¡ª they''re Firmament-based attacks, so it''s not something I can just Phaseslip through. A Warpstep will get me out of the way if they''re too fast to dodge conventionally.


    But I''m realizing I don''t like what I''m doing here.


    I''m reacting. Whisper is making the first moves ¡ª right now, she has the advantage. She knows I''m a Trialgoer, and she knows enough to go after Miktik, even if she apparently doesn''t know what I look like or who I am. She should have sent a message back to herself as soon as she sees me, but I haven''t seen her look for or interact with the Interface, nor sensed the telltale Firmament associated with it.


    I remember an idea I had a few loops back.


    I need to make sure I have the information advantage.


    The thought settles quickly into a plan.


    Hey, Ahkelios. I send the thought through our bond, and I feel the little mantis reacting, stiffening on my shoulder. Whisper hasn''t reacted or taken notice of him yet ¡ª it''s something she''s been pretty consistent about. She just doesn''t take notice of him. I need you to be ready to kill me.


    You what? Ahkelios''s startled response rings through our bond. Ethan, I don''t know if it''s a good idea for you to¡ª


    ¡ªDoesn''t matter for now, I interrupt. Look, I need the information advantage on Whisper. I need to make sure she has the wrong idea of what I want and what I''m doing. There''s only one way to do that, and it''s to make sure she sends back the information I want her to send back.


    You know you can''t let yourself get used to doing this, right? Ahkelios sounds worried, and if I''m being honest, I appreciate it. Maybe that''s what all the other Trialgoers were missing ¡ª someone to ground them.


    I know, I respond. But I''ve got you to warn me if I''m going off the deep end, don''t I?


    I can feel Ahkelios being simultaneously flattered and worried through our bond, and I have to bite back my amusement lest Whisper suspect something. I guess you do, Ahkelios says. But you better listen to me if I tell you to stop!


    I will, I promise. I''ll give you the signal. Let''s hope this works.


    "I can tell you''re planning something, dear," Whisper says. She seems to have used the silence to calm down ¡ª her Firmament has settled down a little, the crimson tinge in the air fading away to something no longer visible. I''m sure I''d still see traces of it if I turned on Firmament Sight, but I don''t want to give away anything more about what I can do right now. "Why don''t you tell me what you''re planning?"


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Another Whisper. I Phaseslip once more, and almost immediately take note of the trap she''s prepared ¡ª she was waiting for it. The extra solidity I get against Firmament in this form makes me particularly vulnerable to the assassins standing behind her, I''m guessing. Three darts of Firmament whip toward me at the same time the Whisper tries to connect to me.


    I am, thankfully, prepared.


    Warpstep.


    What I''m a little less prepared for is the interaction between Warpstep and Phaseslip. Warpstep is feels significantly different when I''m phased, and not in a good way; instead of an instantaneous transition taking me from one point to another, I feel my entire self stretching through space. There''s a moment of nausea, a moment where I feel like I''m in two places at once, a moment where I feel like I''m being forced at rapid speed through an immovable object.


    Then it''s over. I don''t have the time to reorient myself. Teleportation doesn''t stop Whisper''s skill from trying to take effect, and even if I''ve dodged the assassins for the time being, it''s only going to take a second for them to find me again. Time for an old trick.


    I use an Inspired Quicken Mind, applying Accelerator to it to speed up my perception. Once again, it drains my Firmament of almost everything I can muster ¡ª as much as I''ve improved, the Inspiration appears to have improved along with me, and so it''s draining a proportionally greater amount of my strength to fuel itself.


    The world, too, slows to a near stop. The accelerated perception I''m experiencing now is an entire magnitude greater than before...


    Which is a bad thing. I grimace. My mind is too accelerated. At the rate I''m moving, it''s going to drain nearly all my Firmament before I can close my fist around the hostile skill.


    Nothing to it but to adjust my trajectory and hope for the best. I let my perception snap back to normal; my hand closes around the Whisper, Crystallized Strength already fueling me with the power to snap the foreign Firmament in half.


    Except Whisper''s adjusted, because of course she has. Her Firmament splits smoothly in half in my grip, coiling around me as two separate attacks instead of one. I grit my teeth and readjust, bringing up my Amplification Gauntlet so I can crush one into the ground. The other I''m too out of position to stop, and so I just apply a quick Hueshift as it attaches itself to me.


    If nothing else, it''s halved in power, and the Hueshift will weaken it even more. Combined with the Firmament sink Miktik lent me, I think I can make this work with my plans.


    Whisper smirks at me. "Good try," she praises, though her voice drips with condescending superiority. I fake a grimace. It''s not even entirely fake ¡ª I can feel her Firmament coursing through me with each moment I refuse to answer her question, turning into a blistering heat that burns beneath my skin.


    But the Hueshift weakens the effect, and Miktik''s Firmament sink is collecting every bit of stray heat it can. It''s heating up in turn, of course. This version of it is far from perfect. But in combination with my own skills, with my durability, with the weakened version of the Whisper that hit me...


    It''s enough.


    "You want to know what I''m planning?" I ask. I wince a bit as I speak, feeling the burn of Whisper''s Firmament grow; to lessen the strain, I mix in a bit of the truth. "I want to go to the Craven Arena and win some points. You know, considering you upgraded the rewards so much."


    I pause for a moment to consider how much convincing Whisper will need. I''ve been to the Craven Arena a few times now, although I''ve only met the Ringmaster once. I''ve got some idea of who is fighting when. I have a rough idea of the combat styles of most of my opponents¡ª


    "I see," Whisper says. "And why are you visiting my engineer?"


    I almost blink in surprise, but manage to cover up my reaction with another grimace as the Whisper compels me to answer. She really just... believed me. She-Who-Whispers doesn''t doubt for a second that her skill might fail her, or that others might find a way around it. That''s a weakness if I''ve ever seen one. "It''s kind of hard to fight the people in the Arena," I say, which isn''t technically a lie. The Firmament sink heats up in my pocket. "I met her in a previous loop. I''m pretty sure she can make a weapon for me."


    Whisper snorts. "And you needed to seal her workshop to do this?"


    She thinks I sealed the workshop? For an all-knowing leader of Isthanok, she''s surprisingly ignorant to what''s actually happening in it. "I didn''t want you to listen in and find out I was the Trialgoer," I say, which is also technically the truth.


    I can feel Ahkelios trembling as he tries to withhold his giggles. You better not give this away, I mutter to him.


    I won''t, he says. It''s just ¡ª I can''t believe she''s this easy to fool.


    I don''t think she''s ever considered that she''s anything less than perfect, I mutter dryly. At least not after her Trial.


    "I''m afraid Miktik isn''t available for hire," Whisper says coldly. "What did you do to Guard?"


    "Having a guard in the city is kind of inconvenient," I say, feigning a bored, careless tone that makes her Firmament simmer with anger once again. "And since you''ve technically only got one person guarding the whole city, it''s an easy point of vulnerability."


    "Answer the question." There''s no room for argument in her voice. The assassins next to her shift uneasily, moving away from her even while under camouflage; I can''t imagine it''s comfortable to be so close to that density of Firmament.


    "I just tore away some of his Firmament," I lie. That burns. It''s enough of a direct lie that her Firmament flares up within me ¡ª not nearly as strong as it had been in our last fight, but I also don''t have the same imbuement stone I had back then.


    Whisper stares at me. "Foolish," she tells me. I feel her opening her Interface and risk activating Firmament Sight. The assassins bleed into my vision, splotches of green-brown Firmament against the background, but more importantly, I can see the square window that functions as her Interface.


    I can''t see what''s on it, of course. It''s just a mass of Firmament. But I can tell she''s writing down a message, and I can tell when a small pulse of Firmament runs through it, which I assume is the message being saved.


    Now, Ahkelios.


    I don''t know for sure that she''s sent back the message that I want her to send back... but there''s only one way to find out.


    [ You have died. +5 Strength credits. +30 Durability credits. +12 Reflex credits. +6 Speed credits. +20 Firmament credits. ]

 104 — Book 2, Chapter 41 — Restart

    "I don''t know if I like that you''re resorting to dying as a solution," Ahkelios says.


    It''s not the first time he''s shared this sentiment. It''s probably the third, actually. I groan. "Look, I want Whisper''s attention to be directed away from what the rebels are doing," I say. "There wasn''t any way that fight was going to end well for me, and Miktik and the others were basically seconds away from being discovered. I had to end the loop there."


    "Yeah, but what about when you get out of this?" Ahkelios argues. "You aren''t going to be in a time loop anymore, but what if you''ve gotten used to doing this and you do it by accident?"


    "I¡ª" I sigh. I appreciate that Ahkelios is worried about me, I really am, but I can''t imagine any world where I''d jump to death as a solution. It''s not like I enjoy the process of dying. "Look, that''s why I''m asking you to do it, isn''t it? I''m not building any reflex for it. You''ll be able to refuse me if I try to get you to do it once we''re out."


    Ahkelios grumbles under his breath. "I guess you''re right," he says. He doesn''t sound happy about it.


    I change the subject. "You seem way more willing to believe that I''m going to get out of this," I say, half-joking. "Why the change of heart?"


    Ahkelios looks up at me, narrowing his eyes. "I never said I didn''t think you''d get out of this. You didn''t use the link to read my mind, did you?"


    "No," I say. I''m pretty sure it doesn''t work that way. "It''s just that you''ve never talked about me getting out of the Trial. Ever."


    There''s a short silence there. Ahkelios looks away, and I realize with a start that I''m closer to the mark than I realized.


    "I don''t know what it is," he says eventually. "But the more time I spend with you, the more sure I am that you''ll figure something out. You just keep... doing it. Finding a way out of things. And it''s almost never what I expect or would have done. And it works out better for you than it ever did for me."


    I almost don''t know how to respond to that. "Thank you," I say.


    "Do you know what you''ll do when you win?" Ahkelios asks me. "I don''t know what you did on your planet, but I doubt it''s anything close to this."


    "I have not even begun to worry about that," I grunt. "And I don''t think I want to just yet. I''ll figure it out when I get there."


    "Or we will," Ahkelios says softly. "Or... I don''t know. Do you know what''s going to happen to me?"


    I don''t have an answer for that.


    "...I''d like to figure out a way to get you back into a body of your own, not just one made out of Firmament," I say eventually.


    "But that doesn''t mean I''ll have a home," Ahkelios says. "I don''t even know what the Integrators did to my planet."


    "Then I guess I know what I''ll be doing once I''m out of here," I answer instantly. The words come out before I''m even aware I''m saying them, but... they feel right.


    Ahkelios''s eyes widen a bit as he looks up at me. "You''ll help me?"


    "You''re helping me right now, aren''t you?" I say, holding out a fist. "I figure I owe you a favor."


    Ahkelios gives me a tiny fistbump, suddenly looking much more cheerful. "Time to find Tarin?" he asks.


    "Not before I get you some moss," I say with a laugh. Ahkelios looks delighted.


    I don''t have that much time to take breaks in this Trial. The clock ticks away with every second I spare.


    But without moments like these, I think I''d forget what I''m fighting for.


    <hr>


    There are two things I need to do at the Cliffside. The first of them is meet up with Tarin. This time he''s ready and waiting. Considering Mari''s lack of reaction, he doesn''t appear to have told her about the loop this time, and that''s... probably for the best. It''s not like the village''s imbuement stones are going to work for me, anyway.


    She does give me a suspicious once-over. "Tarin say he helping you fight."


    "That''s... true," I say.


    "Good." Mari nods. "You need. Your Firmament soft."


    At least they''re not calling it unstable anymore ¡ª but what''s soft supposed to mean? Before I can question her on it, she disappears back into their hut, muttering something about needing to make preparations to protect the village if Tarin was going to be away for a while.


    "Was it actually that easy to convince her?" I ask Tarin.


    "Yes!" Tarin nods, looking at me as if offended. "She understand. Sometimes hatchling need help."


    "Are you calling me a hatchling?"


    "What else I call you? You still no feathers."


    "I¡ª Tarin, I''m an adult human."


    "You baby crow."


    If it weren''t for the shit-eating grin on Tarin''s face, I would''ve been a lot more exasperated. As it is, I just laugh and shake my head. "...I''m going to go talk to Virin before we leave. I promised I''d help him out with some imbuement stuff."


    Virin is still asleep when I knock on the wall to his hut. His daughter is not, and I wince when she jumps on top of him to wake him up. He shoots out of bed with a squawk and enough force to send his daughter flying.


    Right back into her nest hanging from the roof. Huh. Have they practiced this? Judging by the giggles, they might have.


    I smile a little. He''s a good father.


    "Hey, Virin," I greet. "Listen, this is going to sound really strange, but..."


    To my surprise, the moment I explain the loop and his own plan to him, his eyes light up ¡ª there isn''t even a hint of hesitation or doubt. When I describe what happened to the rock, he doesn''t seem surprised or concerned. "I always wonder!" he exclaims, taking the moss-covered rock out of a nearby drawer and examining it with interest. "Means activation need to be different. You say last time I just pour Firmament in?"


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    "Yes." I remember it quite distinctly, mostly because I hadn''t been expecting to watch a rock burst into flames and then evaporate.


    "Okay. Now you need remember activation point. You watch." He aims for a specific part of the rock ¡ª something outlined in concentric circles of moss ¡ª and stabs it with a needle of Firmament.


    The rock melts into liquid.


    I stare at the rock, then at Virin. "Was that supposed to happen?"


    "You remember," Virin insists, already pushing me out the doorway. "I need more sleep! Next time you not come so early."


    Bemused, I make my way back to Tarin.


    <hr>


    The rest of the loop up until Isthanok goes much the same way. The guards at the Great Gates don''t give me any trouble, and the ones at the Isthanok border have clearly been told to look out for someone going for the Arena, so they don''t even give me a second glance when I tell them I''m there to visit Thys and Thaht.


    Perfect.


    Tarin and I head straight for Miktik''s workshop. Tarin skips all the confused preamble and just knocks sharply on the fused crystal that hides the entrance to her workshop; there''s a long pause, longer than the one we experienced in the previous loop, before it reluctantly slides open. Just like before, Miktik frantically waves us in.


    A little less like before, she''s noticeably more suspicious of us. "You weren''t surprised that door was missing," she says. "Tarin. How did you know?"


    Tarin squawks in impatience. "You open door for me last time," he says.


    I sigh.


    "What do you mean, last time?" Miktik is more visibly agitated. She trusts Tarin, I can see that much, or she wouldn''t have let him in in the first place ¡ª but I guess being under Whisper''s rule is pretty stressful. I imagine it''s hard to tell if someone might be acting under the effects of a Whisper. That said, though...


    "I think we both know if Tarin was being manipulated by a Whisper he''d be a lot louder about it," I say dryly. Tarin''s not the type of bird to just listen to whatever a mysterious voice tells him to do. For the most part.


    "Who are you, anyway?" Miktik pivots her attention to me nearly immediately.


    I don''t bother with the games. "I''m the Trialgoer," I say. "The Trial''s started, and I need your help to evade Whisper."


    "And why should Miktik trust you?" Miktik asks. She''s nervous, but she keeps glancing between Tarin and I ¡ª clearly his presence is enough for this encounter to be a lot smoother than it otherwise would be.


    "You don''t have that much of a reason to," I admit. "But Whisper is as much an enemy to me as she is to you guys, and I''ve already worked with you and been here before. Look, let''s get further inside with the others and I''ll tell you the full story."


    Miktik blocks my path. "What others?" she demands. I almost open my mouth to retort that we''re wasting time, but... I see the look in her eyes and stop.


    She''s not disbelieving me or just stubbornly denying the existence of the rest of the resistance. She''s testing me.


    Okay.


    "You''ve got the kobold brothers ¡ª Thys and Thaht. A crow like Tarin named Bimar. A silverwisp named He-Who-Wanders. And a morphling..."


    I hesitate. I don''t remember his name.


    "Vahrkos," Ahkelios supplies. The sudden movement and sound from my head is enough to startle Miktik into letting out a small yelp. Her legs twitch, and she swings a miniscule tool at her belt to point at Ahkelios before forcing herself to relax.


    "You''re kind of jumpy," I observe. "What happened?"


    "You tell us your story first and I''ll tell you ours," Miktik grumbles. "This way."


    <hr>


    It doesn''t take much time to get them caught up on the time loop thing. They''re all a little disbelieving of the idea, but it''s not like I don''t have a half-dozen ways to prove it ¡ª from knowing about Miktik''s Firmament sink to knowing what would happen if Whisper tried to overload it, to Ahkelios''s own knowledge of Hestia and the recounting of some of his own loops.


    I stop him when he begins to get a little too into his retelling. I can see the little guy starting to shake a little. Whatever memories he has, he doesn''t seem ready to face them yet.


    The Interface has taken a bit more from us than any of us know, I think.


    "So," I say eventually. "I''m going to need your help."


    "Let me get this straight." Bimar is unsurprisingly the most skeptical of the lot. The crow''s wings tap impatiently against the makeshift table they''re all seated at. "Your plan is to make Whisper think that you''re here for the Arena, distract her from the fact that you''re actually here to help us develop a new Firmament sink and to... what, abduct He-Who-Guards?"


    "Abduct implies that he''s unwilling," I say. "I doubt he''s unwilling."


    "Your doubt doesn''t guarantee our effort won''t be wasted," Bimar says sharply. "And these loops of yours might, but only if they''re real. Even then, they seem unreliable at best." She gives Tarin a pointed look. "Who''s to say something doesn''t get preserved that permanently ruins us?"


    "The Trialgoer is still the best option we''ve had in a while," He-Who-Wanders says. "The risk of working with him is no greater than the risk of any of the other tasks we undertake on a regular basis."


    "Whose side are you on?!" Bimar demands.


    Thys sighs. The kobold leans in to give me a stage whisper. "Bimar''s just angry because you messed up our plans," he says. "She''ll calm down eventually."


    I just blink. "What plans? You had plans?"


    And now it''s their turn to tell me what happened at the start of this loop. Miktik takes the lead, and Bimar declines to participate for most of the discussion, instead watching me and Tarin with sharp eyes. She doesn''t trust us, I can tell.


    But I notice her gaze lingers on Tarin more than it does on me, and I find that... strange.


    "Whatever you told her about the Arena made her change the format of it," Miktik explains. "It''s a tournament-style arena now, at least for the next couple of days. The points it rewards are multiplied the higher in the tournament you go."


    "...That sounds like an obvious trap," I say. I don''t bother hiding how bewildered I am. She believes I told her the truth about wanting prizes from the Arena, but why the change of format? The rules technically benefit me, if anything; it means it''ll take much less points for me to earn what I need...


    Of course, it''ll also put me directly in her sights, which is probably what she wants. I have no intention of spending multiple loops trying to perfect my performance in a tournament.


    Miktik nods, agreeing. "We were wondering what that was about. Between the new guards she put out, He-Who-Guards being missing, and the sudden change to the Arena, we figured she might have been on to Thys and Thaht."


    "Kinda glad to hear that''s not the case," Thys quips.


    Vahrkos speaks up. "I would assume the tournament exists in order to identify you," he says, his voice a low, smooth rumble. "One that can travel through time would be easy to spot in a series of fixed combat challenges."


    "It would''ve been just as easy to spot me in the regular Arena," I say.


    "That would depend on your level of skill," Vahrkos says. "But this announcement will attract many new combatants, including ones not from this city."


    Tarin''s eyes gleam. I groan. "Tarin, we''re not¡ª"


    "Training," Tarin insists.


    I sigh.


    <hr>


    Despite Tarin''s insistence, I refuse to actually join the tournament and walk straight into Whisper''s trap. The setup is alarmingly specific ¡ª if all she wanted to do was identify me, she could Whisper to every contestant walking inside the Arena grounds. Unless, of course, there''s a cost to her Whisper that prevents her from doing it at that scale.


    The point is, whatever she''s doing, I don''t trust it. And neither do any of the rebels.


    "We''re going to resign from the Arena this round, I think," Thys says, glancing at his brother. "No point getting involved in whatever this is."


    "Yeah, getting involved in this sounds dumb," Thaht agrees.


    Bimar rolls her eyes. "You set yourself up for this," she tells me bluntly. "You want to keep playing whatever game you''re playing with her, you''re going to need to do something, or she''ll figure out you tricked her. And that you have a counter against her Whispers."


    ...Well, she''s not wrong there.


    "I enter tournament," Tarin declares.


    I frown. "That''s not going to work," I say. "She knows the new Trialgoer has to be an offworlder. You''re from Hestia."


    "I not say I pretend to be Trialgoer," Tarin says, scoffing at the idea. "I say I go tournament. My turn for training, yes?"


    "He''s going through the loops too, isn''t he?" Bimar speaks in her usual brusque manner. "If Whisper is on the lookout for someone that acts like a time traveler, Tarin''s going to check all those boxes eventually. Even if she figures he''s not the Trialgoer, she''ll know he''s connected to you."


    "Right. Because he is connected to me." I think for a moment, then let a devious grin curl up into my lips. "I think I can make that work."

 105 — Book 2, Chapter 42 — Spark of Rebellion

    One of the biggest problems I have right now is that I''m a little... directionless. I have many disparate goals, and nothing stringing them together; that means I''m just leaping for the first opportunity to complete whatever goal seems within my reach.


    I need to save Rotar. To do that, I''ve decided I''ll try to save Guard as well, a process which involves me in Isthanok''s politics and necessitates that I work on a counter to She-Who-Whispers''s main skill ¡ª her Whisper. That''s where my work with imbuement comes in. It''s the whole reason I studied with Virin, and my growth in that department has helped me in other areas, too.


    Directly countering She-Who-Whispers by physically grabbing her Whisper, for example.


    I might not need the Firmament sink anymore with this new application of Phaseslip, but it''s clear from our last encounter that it won''t be enough. It''s not hard to avoid when she does it right in front of me, but the strength of the skill is that she can do it from absurd distances, and she clearly has countermeasures against people that can interact with her skill the way I did.


    That and creating a better Firmament sink will help Miktik and the others. If I want them to help me, I''m going to have to do that anyway.


    "You sound like you have a plan," Bimar says. Her tone is still tinged with suspicion, but I just grin.


    "Maybe."


    Telling Whisper I was going to go to the Arena was a little less well thought out than it should have been ¡ª more of an impulsive plan with a half-finished end goal. It''s the seeds of what I''ll need, but I''m not being focused enough.


    At the time I was thinking I''d lead Whisper on something of a wild goose chase ¡ª to tell her I was there for the Arena, work on the Firmament sink with Thys and Thaht, and then show up at the Arena when I was good and ready ¡ª and use that moment to imply I was after a different target. One of those underground groups Rotar had mentioned that studied the Interface, for example.


    That way, I can keep her off-balance. I can make sure she''s looking for me in the wrong places, trying to counter the wrong plans. If I play it right, she''ll be trying to deal with a version of me that doesn''t even exist, not knowing that I know she can pass information back to herself.


    The question I need to ask, though, is this: Is that good enough?


    And the answer to that question is a resounding no. Not if I want to do everything I came here to do. Fighting the Integrators, fighting Hestia''s Trialgoers, learning more about the Interface and doing everything the Heart of Hestia asked me to do ¡ª I have a laundry list of tasks, and that''s not even touching on the Interface chat that''s still been locked since the last time I managed to speak to other humans.


    Come to think of it, I wonder if my brief glimpse of what was going on with the rest of Earth''s Trialgoers had anything to do with Gheraa. He seems plenty willing to manipulate details of the Trial to my advantage, even if it gets him into trouble.


    ...Which also makes it more of a priority that I extract him from the Integrators as soon as I can, because I doubt his deception is going to last much longer.


    "I need to make Whisper work for me," I say out loud.


    There''s a long silence. Bimar is the first to speak. "What," she says, her voice deadpan. "You better not be thinking of working with he¡ª"


    "No," I say, shaking my head. "First of all, if I were, it''d be stupid to say it out loud here."


    Bimar glares, evidently unconvinced.


    "Second, it''d be hard to work with someone I don''t trust," I say dryly. I give Bimar a pointed look ¡ª it''s obviously how she feels about working with me ¡ª and she has the grace to look a little bit embarrassed. I''m going to have to ask her what her deal is eventually, but given the way she keeps glancing at Tarin, I''m wondering if they have history.


    Except Tarin doesn''t seem to recognize her, so that can''t be right.


    "So what''s your plan?" Bimar asks.


    "If I''m going to have her chasing after me, we need to work it into our plans," I say. "Both yours and mine, ideally. Is there anything we can make her go after that would help you guys out?"


    That makes Bimar fall into a contemplative silence. Thys and Thaht look at each other, He-Who-Wanders whispers something to Vahrkos, and Miktik suddenly scampers off to her workbench to grab... something. It''s clear they''ll be thinking about this for a while, so I turn my attention to Tarin.


    Rebels aside, there''s one way I can play this in my favor and against the Integrators: I need to make sure the Hestian Trialgoers can''t work together. As I understand it, any alliance they have is tenuous at best; a little bit of strain on that relationship can only benefit me.


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    Tarin''s in a unique position here. He''s the father of one of the Trialgoers, Naru; if Whisper knows this, and finds him fighting in the tournament that the new Trialgoer has expressed interest in...


    Well, I have no doubt that it''ll at least serve as the seed of some very tense conversations later on.


    Naru''s proven that he''s going to be a problem if he shows up, and while he hasn''t shown up in a while, Tarin and Mari''s wayward son is still beyond me as far as his physical prowess goes. I''ve got my own tricks up my sleeve at this point, but Whisper''s skills are an almost perfect counter to Naru''s ¡ª far more than my own.


    Naru''s a brawler. Whisper is a controller. Her skills render physical strength useless, unless you have the mental fortitude to withstand the sensation of your own Firmament being torn apart and your skin being burnt to a crisp. Naru does not strike me as an individual with that level of mental fortitude.


    "What do you think, Tarin?" I ask. The plan''s contingent on his agreement. Whisper might not know that Tarin is Naru''s father, but she will if we go ahead with this plan.


    "It good plan," Tarin says approvingly. "Naru learn lesson."


    That''s... not the intent of the plan, exactly, but I suppose he''s not wrong.


    "We need a way to make Whisper suspicious of you," I say. "I''m thinking¡ª"


    "You not worry." Tarin gives me a reassuring nod that somehow does nothing to reassure me. He taps his beak with a wing. "I plan. You need Whisper think Naru sent me, yes?"


    "Well... yes."


    "Okay. You watch. I make happen." Tarin taps his beak again. And then refuses to elaborate, no matter how much I try to get him to.


    I sigh. Whatever his plan is, it can''t be that bad.


    <hr>


    A few hours later, I find myself ¡ª for once ¡ª seated among the audience in the Craven Arena.


    It''s only after a lot of discussion that we collectively decide it''s best to do things this way. Hestia has enough species that come and go from the planet that a human won''t be immediately identified as the Trialgoer. Hestia may have been a hub planet even before the Integrators, but the Trial has made it that much more of one. Something about the Integration process apparently allows a much faster form of interplanetary travel.


    Apparently, something about passing your Integration connects your planet more deeply to the Interface and allows a form of interplanetary travel. The crows and a few other species here are native to Hestia, but many others I''ve seen are not ¡ª Thys and Thaht, for example, are from a planet called Urukanis.


    Which has dragons. The part of me that''s still a child almost wishes my Trial had taken place there instead.


    Thys and Thaht are both seated next to me, flanking me in the spectator''s stand. Miktik isn''t here, because Whisper already knows she''s associated with the Trialgoer, and we can''t risk her becoming a target. Bimar, Vahrkos, and Wanders are all off making preparations of their own. Something about the plan they''ve come up with.


    As far as I understand it, that plan is to instill distrust in Whisper''s so-called inner council. Whisper doesn''t really listen to others when it comes to the way she rules over Isthanok, but she does have individuals that she trusts enough to delegate tasks to. Her assassins, for example, are headed by a morphling named Th''kar; commerce and trade are handled by a salamander-like creature named Ueuiel; and scientific research on both the Interface and otherwise are led by a crow by the name of Kera.


    The way Bimar mentions Kera''s name tells me there''s something personal there. I wonder if that''s the reason for her hostility, the reason she keeps looking at Tarin.


    The nature of the loops, they tell me, allow them to conduct riskier operations than they otherwise could. As long as any information they discover comes back to me before the loop ends, it can be preserved into the next loop. We can make it look like her trusted advisors-slash-minions are leaking information, even if they''re not.


    They''re putting a lot of trust in me, in other words. Even Bimar, who''s begrudgingly admitted that this is the best shot they''ve had against Whisper in years.


    "You look nervous," Thys says, giving me a friendly nudge. "Your first time at the Arena?"


    "Yeah," I say, giving him a weak smile. I can see through to what he''s really asking ¡ª it''s not like we can talk freely with Whisper listening in to everything. "Just worried I''m going to see someone get really hurt."


    "Good that you care," Thaht grunts. "A lot of people don''t. But for what it''s worth, kid, everyone''s already getting hurt. All the time. It''s just how things are under Whisper. You just don''t usually see it."


    "Kid? We''re the same age. And you''re half my height."


    "Don''t mind him," his brother says. "He''s just always wanted to use that line."


    I smirk a bit at this, then turn my gaze back toward the Arena grounds.


    The tournament is starting. Might as well get settled in.


    According to Tarin, watching him is going to be good training. He''s the first one coming out, and he''s up against a silverwisp. The announcer blares out their names, making me wince a little, even as Thys cheers.


    "First up: The Crack of Thunder versus the Scion of Combustion!"


    In retrospect, I probably should''ve stopped Thys from pulling him aside and whispering to him. Now he might insist on me calling him The Crack of Thunder even outside the Arena.


    Then again... he fits right in with his opponent, doesn''t he? I lean forward with sudden interest. Lightning courses along Tarin''s feathers. Across him, on the other side of the Arena, a silverwisp stands tall.


    And then, like a switch being flipped, the silverwisp blazes red, then orange, then white.


    Fire.


    It''s not the physicality of the fight that interests me, though.


    It''s the Firmament.

 106 — Book 2, Chapter 43 — In the Stands

    I''ve grown enough at this point that Tarin no longer completely outclasses me. If I had to rate the strength of people I''ve fought so far, I''d probably put Guard at the top, followed by Naru, then Whisper, then Tarin. Of the people in that list, the only person I think I''d be able to beat with any consistency is Tarin.


    This, I''m learning, is a bit of arrogance on my part.


    It''s not that the versatility of my skills doesn''t compete with Tarin ¡ª nor does his Firmament entirely outshine mine. I glance to the Interface to check on something I haven''t looked at in a while.


    [ Firmament base attunement: 93.4%


    Progress to next phase shift: 63.5% ]


    I can''t say I''m entirely sure what these things mean yet, but I''m significantly more attuned to my Firmament base than I was before. My first phase shift came with a pretty significant bump in power, so knowing I''m more than halfway to the next one is heartening.


    I wish I knew how to work actively toward it.


    All I''ve gotten from Tarin and others so far is that progressing your Firmament phase is different between both species and individuals. It''s not helpful. It might be, if I could speak to other humans, but the chat system is still malfunctioning and I haven''t been able to catch a second glimpse of human contact since the last time I was able to speak to Zhao.


    I do remember what Mari said, though, about my Firmament still being soft. It''s the first time I''ve heard my Firmament described in this way, and I wonder if that has anything to do with the next phase shift. Are there discrete stages to Firmament development?


    Something to ask later.


    For now, the fight that''s blossoming in front of me between Tarin and his opponent ¡ª the silverwisp''s name is He-Who-Burns, fittingly, according to both Thys and Thaht ¡ª is eye-opening. It''s not the variety of skills nor the physical prowess of either combatant that''s impressing me; it''s the speed and flexibility with which they use their Firmament.


    "Wow," Thys whistles next to me. "That old bird always so good at fighting?"


    "He looks experienced," I say, which isn''t what I want to say. He can be kind of scary.


    The other thing I''m realizing is that Tarin is less effective when he''s fighting against monsters ¡ª where he really shines is in battles against other people. Firmament users, specifically. I can almost sense what he''s doing, but...


    I activate Firmament Sight.


    That throws everything Tarin is doing into sharp clarity, and I can see almost immediately why he said this would be good training.


    "Something''s up with his Firmament," I say out loud. Thaht looks up sharply at me, then squints at Tarin, as if he can see what''s going on with his eyes alone.


    "I don''t see it," he says.


    "Give me a moment," I mutter. I push on my Firmament sense in addition to what Firmament Sight is telling me, trying to make sense of what I''m seeing.


    I remember the skill I got from him in my phase shift. Intrinsic Lightning. It''s one of my more unique Speed skills. The benefits it gives are indirect, closer to an overall buff than giving me any specific ability, but that''s part of what makes it so good.


    Except if what I''m seeing from Tarin is right, it''s not that it doesn''t give me a specific ability. It''s just that I never figured out the exact mechanism by which that skill works.


    Judging by how slowly he''s readying himself for the fight, Tarin''s intentionally slowing down what he''s doing enough for me to catch a glimpse of it. I can see him visibly concentrating ¡ª evidently, going slow takes effort for him ¡ª and I watch as Firmament gathers in his core and then spreads out over his body.


    Tiny sparks scatter over his feathers. And beneath those feathers...


    I see the way those same sparks of Firmament race along his nerves.


    Clarity snaps into place.


    He''s replacing the electrical signals in his nervous system with Firmament.


    The name is a clever one, now that I think about it: the lightning is intrinsic because it''s already present in him. In every biological organism with a nervous system.


    And the point of doing this is clear as soon as I watch the fight begin. Tarin dashes toward He-Who-Burns, his wing stretched out for a slicing strike. He''s intentionally moving slower than he normally does, giving the silverwisp time to react. Testing him.


    He-Who-Burns lashes out with a burning crescent of white-hot Firmament. Tarin continues charging, with no action or intent to dodge, as far as I can see.


    But a spark from his feathers jumps onto the crescent, and the reaction is instant. Automatic. The spark forms a single line of pure Firmament that feeds right back into his body, sending a signal to his nerves without his brain having to process the sight at all. Tarin twists out of the way, not even slowing down, and speeds up into a blur. It takes an activation of Quicken Mind for me to be able to track his movement.


    "He''s smirking," I say in disbelief. "And his eyes are closed."


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    "What? No way," Thys says in disbelief.


    "I don''t think I want to fight him without my suit," Thaht says, blinking.


    "You probably don''t," I say. I wonder what Tarin would do against a suit like the one Thaht uses. Come to think of it, I really want to see their workshop and figure out what they put into that thing; it''s monstrously strong for what''s effectively just a giant robot.


    I let Intrinsic Lightning flicker through my body, feeling the way it races through my nerves. It''s so subtle it blends in with the general feeling of Firmament racing through my body ¡ª but if I focus my senses on it, I can feel the way it jumps and races through every nerve in every muscle.


    But there''s more that Tarin is doing with it. He''s programmed automatic responses into his own nervous system, using flickers of his Firmament to detect changes in his environment. I''m not sure I can push the skill that far, but I try anyway. All I need to do is pour more Firmament into the skill...


    I spasm, jerking forward, nearly hitting my head on the rail and making both Thys and Thaht jump. I hear Ahkelios snickering through our link, though there''s a sense of sympathy radiating through it as well.


    Okay. Clearly the solution is not just to pour more Firmament into it.


    You''re on the right track, but you need to control how you push in Firmament, Ahkelios suggests. The way you''re doing it now, you''re just increasing the energy in it. You want to increase the radius. Or get more sparks.


    Easy for you to say, I send back, but I relent and listen to his words anyway.


    I activate the skill. I can feel the way the Interface reacts, converting my base Firmament into something fundamentally more. It''s like there''s a tiny engine in there; I can force more Firmament into the engine like I just did, and that causes the sparks of Firmament that emerge to be more powerful and energetic.


    Or I can make the engine run faster.


    I push my Firmament into the Interface, into that so-called engine, and watch as it begins to drag my Firmament into it more rapidly. It doesn''t create more powerful sparks like when I empowered the skill directly; instead, it just creates more sparks, and I feel it blazing through my system and beginning to scatter over my skin. Thys yelps as a stray spark of electrical Firmament lands on him.


    "Sorry," I say, immediately releasing the skill and trying to ignore the strange looks I''m getting. It''s probably best not to draw attention to myself like this. I turn back to Tarin''s fight, shifting a bit in discomfort as remnant traces of Firmament race their way through my nerves.


    He-Who-Burns has, apparently, had enough of Tarin''s flittering about. I can''t see his pendant from here, but his body language tells me he''s pissed. He raises his hands, and I wince at the intensity of light that erupts from his chest. I can feel the heat from here, and from the outcry surrounding me, I''m not the only one.


    It makes sense. He responded to an opponent too fast to be caught by flooding the Arena with an attack that can''t be dodged.


    I can barely open my eyes through the glare of his Firmament. Apparently, I''m one of very few audience members affected like this. Thys and Thaht both flinch backward from the heat, but they don''t seem nearly blinded the way I am.


    A downside of Firmament Sight, I suppose. I deactivate the skill and close my eyes, focusing on my Firmament sense to see what Tarin is doing in response to this. I can tell that he''s speeding up, but¡ª


    Tarin shouts something I can''t hear over the roar of the spectators. I can feel the wind pick up in the Arena, almost like it''s being sucked in toward the Arena ¡ª like he''s creating a vacuum and pulling all the air in. I feel his Firmament being cycled faster and faster and faster, pulling in all the Firmament around it and creating a physical tunnel of wind.


    He''s mimicking the imbuement on Miktik''s home.


    It makes sense. Whisper''s Firmament is ever-present within Isthanok, and the only way to create a space shielded from it is to cycle Firmament so rapidly it draws in everything around it. A makeshift rotating shield. Any speed-oriented Firmament is especially suited for a defensive technique like that.


    Tarin doesn''t waste any more time, probably because he doesn''t want to give He-Who-Burns the chance to pull something like that off again; the punch he delivers snaps straight to the the silverwisp''s throat, and although he holds back enough not to kill the man, he still hits hard enough to briefly make He-Who-Burns''s entire head gutter out like a candle flame.


    Just for a moment, but the message is clear nonetheless: I could have killed you.


    "I didn''t even know you could do that to a silverwisp without killing them," I say. Not that I knew much about silverwisp anatomy.


    "Yeah, well." Thys sounds equally stunned. "Neither did I."


    Then the Interface catches my attention with a message I''ve never seen before.


    [ New feature unlocked! Your careful study of a master''s techniques has granted you Skill Mastery. ]


    [ Skill Mastery is a passive form of Firmament refinement fueled by your efforts in mastering certain skills. Improved Skill Mastery will grant phase shift progress and is the first step toward your Consolidation. ]


    [ Mastery of Intrinsic Lightning has improved. ]


    [ Your familiar has been granted a knowledge package. ]


    Whoa, Ahkelios sends to me through our link. Um... Whoa.


    <hr>


    Tarin knew his words would get lost in the crowd. There was only one person who''d be able to hear what he''d shouted, really. Two, if you counted He-Who-Burns, who wouldn''t understand what he''d said regardless.


    Just because he and Naru were estranged didn''t mean he didn''t keep tabs on his son. He''d traveled a lot, in his day ¡ª had made plenty of friends in both high and not-so-high places. Mostly the latter. He couldn''t stand most of the people that involved themselves in the upper echelons of Integrator society, not in the least because of what the Integrators stood for.


    But the important thing here was that he''d been to the Great City that Naru managed.


    Tarin had only been to Carusath twice. The place made him uncomfortable. It sat in the middle of a still-burning crater. The streets were lit with burning coal that lined the sidewalks, and even the trees were twisted structures of firey Firmament. Why his son preferred that environment to their cozy cliffside home was something he couldn''t even pretend to understand.


    Visiting the place had done nothing to help that.


    But he''d learned a few things while he was there. He''d learned that Naru had a somewhat militant following that he used as his own personal soldiers, though he rarely had to employ them in any kind of war ¡ª not when his own strength was enough to settle most conflicts. He''d learned that those soldiers had a rather specific battle cry they would use, one that varied slightly based on their rank.


    No one here would understand the battlecry. It was, as he understood it, based on an ancient language that wasn''t even from this planet. Only people that possessed a fully unlocked Interface ¡ª in other words, an active or former Trialgoer ¡ª would understand what he said.


    And really, all he did was modify the words.


    The normal battlecry was, translated: For Naru, Pillar of Carusath.


    His version was: For my son, Naru of Cliffside.


    In some other universe, he might have said those words and meant it.

 107 — Book 2, Chapter 44 — Preparation

    She-Who-Whispers''s fists tightened the moment she heard the words filter in through her Whispers on the Wind. The spoon she was holding bent with her strength. Firmament skittered across the surface of the metal, and she discarded it with disgust. One of her servants would pick it up later.


    That lumbering brute''s father was here. And he''d involved himself in the tournament.


    Last she''d heard, the two of them were estranged, but she put nothing past any of her fellow Trialgoers. Those of them that had passed the Trial were devious, even the ones that relied primarily on brute force. Besides, even if Naru himself wasn''t responsible, there was always the possibility that Teluwat had decided to involve himself with things.


    It was likely, even, if Naru''s father had somehow turned his opinion on the Integrators around. There was no one else that could so seamlessly change a person.


    She-Who-Whispers shuddered at the thought. Of all her fellow Trialgoers, she feared Teluwat the most. She wouldn''t even admit to fearing any of the others, but Teluwat''s skills... as much as she hated to admit it, he had what could be considered a better version of her own skills.


    Her Whisper gave her range and the ability to listen in on others; that was the advantage she held over him. She could control others with it, but that control was limited. They could choose to disobey. Technically.


    It would just hurt them to do so.


    Teluwat''s victims had no such choice, and mind control was only the beginning of what he could do.


    She-Who-Whispers remembered having a pleasant visit with Teluwat and his son. Strange, then, that the memory gave her such a coiling dread in her heart. Strange that the thought of Teluwat sent fear shooting through her very soul.


    But not that strange. She closed her eyes, plucking a pearl of Firmament from her pendant.


    "Tell me what you did." The full weight of her Whisper pressed down on Teluwat, who smirked at her; he seemed entirely unconcerned by her power. He had no skin or carapace to burn. His Firmament was smooth and frictionless ¡ª there was nothing for her skill to grab on to, nothing she could tear apart.


    The other Trialgoer cocked his head with an almost playful disinterest, and she held back a shiver of disgust. She-Who-Whispers didn''t know if Teluwat''s physical appearance was normal for his species or if he''d been changed in some irreversible way by his Trial. She knew silverwisps were already a strange combination of biology and Firmament, but Teluwat...


    Pale-green, translucent goo kept a barely-cohesive form around a humanoid skeleton. It dripped, ever-so-slightly, each drop of liquid oozing back into the main body after a few seconds of separation. His facial features were drawn on his face with Firmament. Everything he gave away was precisely controlled, deliberate.


    She would have been envious, had she not been disgusted.


    "I don''t know what you mean," Teluwat said. "He-Who-Serves has always been mine. Isn''t that right?"


    "Yes, father," the young silverwisp said. She-Who-Whispers felt her heart grow cold ¡ª saw reality written into the Firmament around her son.


    Or her former son.


    Whispers on the Wind couldn''t undo what Teluwat had done. There were Firmament markers in silverwisps that spoke of their lineage ¡ª markers that should have been impossible to change.


    And yet the young silverwisp before her held none of her markers. None of He-Who-Guards''s markers. The only marker she recognized was Teluwat''s, who wasn''t even a silverwisp.


    This shouldn''t have been possible.


    And the name he''d been given...


    She wanted to tear Teluwat apart for this.


    But she couldn''t move.


    "What are you so worried about, anyway?" Teluwat seemed amused. He sat back in his chair. "You''ve never had a son."


    No. That wasn''t true. She did. She had a son. She''d had a son with He-Who-Guards. She fought against it, struggled against his control, threw all her power into invoking¡ª


    "I''ve never had a son," she repeated out loud.


    "And you''re going back to Isthanok, aren''t you?" Teluwat gave her a pleasant smile.


    "Yes," She-Who-Whispers replied. Her feet took her away.


    She did have a son. She remembered him ¡ª remembered the way he cried when he was born. Remembered the name written into his Firmament. It took everything she had to preserve that memory, to wrap it into a ball of Firmament and lock it in place to prevent Teluwat''s skills from affecting it.


    A week later, she remembered that her son had died a few years after his birth.


    A month later, she remembered the accident that had taken him away just a week after his birth.


    Two months later and the markers in her Firmament that told her she had once given birth were gone entirely.


    Then she remembered nothing at all.


    She-Who-Whispers let the pearl fall from her fingers and back into her necklace.


    It had taken everything she had just to preserve the truth, but at least she''d been able to. She wasn''t completely helpless against him. The idea that there wasn''t more she could do against him rankled at her, but it wasn''t like she was going to go out of her way to face him again.


    The pearl was an excellent reminder of how dangerous he was. Hopefully, Teluwat wasn''t involved in this at all.


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    Though even if he was, she wouldn''t stand for him messing with her city. Taking her son was one thing. Her city?


    Not a chance.


    The only question now was what this all meant. Was Naru working together with the new Trialgoer? Her notes hadn''t said anything about that. Maybe he''d sent in his father this time, to test the waters and see how she would change things.


    <hr>


    Consolidation is your next phase shift, Ahkelios explains. The next stage of Firmament development. Trialgoers go through a slightly different form of it ¡ª you lose some of your skills to boost the ones you use the most. It''s like an optimization of your essence. It streamlines who you are.


    Kind of like how the first stage tried to make me choose who I am? I ask.


    You need a core to develop the base of your Firmament around, Ahkelios confirms. A simple core is usually better; it''s easier to build around it. Mine was the Sword. I think I''ve mentioned it before.


    But you''re not a swordsman.


    I was back then. Ahkelios is silent for a moment ¡ª he understands my point. He might have chosen the Sword as his core, but he is not a sword; he shaped himself around something that he wasn''t. I can imagine how that might have cut away at him.


    You''ll probably have a harder time with your Consolidation, considering the way you built your core. I feel Ahkelios''s grimace echo through our bond, and I just grin as I remember the answer I gave the Interface.


    Who am I?


    I''m whoever the fuck I want to be.


    Ahkelios laughs, sensing my thoughts ¡ª more out of a fond exasperation than anything else. Well, you''ve always made things work, so...


    That''s right, I say. Anything else I need to know?


    There''s a lot about the new Skill Mastery thing, but a lot of it is just detailing the type of skills you can master and what mastering those skills do. I''ll let you know as they come up, or we''re going to be here all day, Ahkelios tells me. I nod and turn my attention back to the fight.


    I have to admit, Tarin''s battle strategies are a lot more versatile than I''d imagined. I''ve seen him fight before, of course, but in the first battle he was heavily restricted ¡ª and every time after that he''s been shown up by someone stronger than him. He-Who-Guards, for example, whose strength is so monstrous Tarin''s role in the Fracture had been mostly relegated to harassment and support.


    Up against other thinking opponents, however, his skills really shine. Even Thys and Thaht seem entranced by the performance he''s putting on. It''s not the sheer speed he displays, although that''s a part of it. It''s the way he employs his speed to counter almost everything his opponents throw at him.


    One opponent, for example, disrupts the ground. Tarin moves between the breaking stones so quickly that none of the momentum transfers to him. He treats the shrapnel like they''re simply stepping stones, and rockets a reinforced wing directly into his opponent''s throat.


    Another opponent manipulates wind and ice; she surrounds herself in delicate, cutting crystals. Tarin''s actually slowed down by this opponent, but not for long ¡ª her power over isn''t enough to overwhelm the slipstream generated by his movement, and the eventual hurricane he creates from running sends her own crystals flying back toward her.


    On and on it goes. And while there''s plenty more I could learn from watching him, I think I''ve already picked up on what he wanted to teach me.


    The Interface even confirms it with a message I''ve never seen before.


    "I think we should go," Thys says quietly. I nod. The rebels have someone keeping an eye on the Arena just in case Whisper triggers whatever trap she has planned on Tarin. I don''t want to leave, but I also want to make the best possible use of the time I have in this loop.


    There are plenty of other fighters between each of Tarin''s rounds, and it''s clear that this is the sort of tournament that''s going to last for days. Staying and waiting for every other fight, waiting for Whisper to act ¡ª it''s pointless. I have other things to do. Thys and Thaht''s workshop is waiting for me, and if I understand the plan correctly, then I''m going to need to help each of the others with their tasks as well.


    Though only once I''m done with the Firmament sinks. That project''s too important to ignore.


    We slip out of the Craven Arena with relative ease. Most of the surveillance is focused on people trying to get in, not people trying to get out ¡ª and it''s so much more crowded than usual that I''m sure many people have slipped in past the guards. Those guards are mostly there for show, anyway, since so many attendees are visitors from other cities. Everyone native to Isthanok knows that trying to hide something from Whisper is futile.


    I can already see the coils of her Firmament beginning to curl around some of the ones that tried to sneak in without paying.


    Hiding a disgusted grimace, I follow Thys and Thaht as they make their way back toward their workshop. It''s clear when we''re in range; I can feel the same privacy imbuement in the workshop''s walls. I only ask about it once we''re inside and the doors are securely shut behind us.


    "Doesn''t that imbuement make you kind of identifiable?" I ask. "Whisper has to know that she can''t hear into yours or Miktik''s workshop. Feels like a weak point."


    "Yeah, but she don''t really seem to care," Thaht says with a shrug. "We''ve had it for ages. Lots of workshops do. We create a lot of noise otherwise, see?"


    As if to illustrate, the kobold picks up a massive hammer and swings it down onto a steel plate. I wince at the loud clang that echoes through the workshop.


    "...Point taken."


    A slight pause.


    "Hey, Thaht, I have to ask," I say. "Last time we fought, you were driving this... giant... robot suit? That was nearly indestructible?"


    "Oh yeah!" Thys responds before Thaht can, hopping on his feet excitedly. "Did you beat him? That thing''s our pride and joy."


    "Of course he didn''t," Thaht scoffs, folding his arms across his chest.


    "You have no idea if I beat you or not," I point out, amused.


    "I doubt it. That thing is full of imbuements. Even Whisper would have trouble with it." Thaht grins, showing his teeth.


    "...I have a lot of questions," I say. "First of all, if it''s that strong, why are you using it in a blood sport and not in your rebellion?"


    "We need to test it somehow," Thys says with a shrug. "And it''s not good enough yet."


    "And even if you need to test it," I continue, "why would you test it somewhere Whisper can observe it and figure out countermeasures?"


    "Because¡ª" Thys begins.


    "Whisper found out about the prototype before we ever got to the first field test," Thaht interrupts with a sigh, giving his brother a stern look. "A privacy imbuement on our workshop doesn''t mean that much. She can and will still pay regular visits, and she''s smart enough to spot it if we''re trying to hide something ¡ª especially a project that big. Best we can do is hide its full capabilities."


    "You''re telling me it can do more?" I ask.


    Thaht grins at me. "Get those Firmament sinks working for us and maybe you''ll get to see how much more it can really do."


    ...Well, that''s motivation, if nothing else. I can only imagine how much a suit like that would help if they let me take it to the Fracture ¡ª though I can''t imagine carrying that massive thing all the way there. Maybe if I bank some more strength credits...


    Anyway. Back to the problem at hand.


    "Show me what you''ve got," I say. Thys pulls open a drawer full of half-finished Firmament sinks.


    I can tell this is going to be a long day.

 108 — Book 2, Chapter 45 — Tracking

    The main problem I''m running into right now is that I don''t have any quality imbuement stones. Or really any imbuement stones. Thys and Thaht have a stash somewhere, as they''ve said, but neither of them can remember where they''re kept and all the rest of their siblings are out... somewhere. Thys is clambering around in the basement, trying to find them. The stones, I mean. Not his siblings.


    I''m starting to wonder if I need to pull off some kind of heist and steal whatever stash of imbuement stones Whisper keeps in the military base the Ringmaster mentioned.


    "I think you should," Ahkelios offers. He peeks down over the fringe of my hair, and I blink as his head appears upside-down in my vision. "It''s probably less boring than sitting here and watching you try to turn ordinary rocks into imbuement stones."


    "I don''t see you helping," I grumble.


    Virin''s technique for creating an imbuement stone isn''t one I can easily replicate. I have a few ideas ¡ª the requirement for imbuement stones to be ordered and pure is something pretty easily fulfilled by substances outside the standard gems and crystals that I''ve seen so far ¡ª but I want to try the traditional methods first.


    Not that the traditional methods are getting me anywhere.


    "No luck?" Thaht asks sympathetically. He''s lounging shirtless by the side of his workshop, staring down at me and the rock I''m unsuccessfully trying to convert. "Been there."


    "This would be a lot easier if you just used your arena points to get some imbuement stones from the Ringmaster," I grumble.


    "I would, but he''s closed shop," Thaht says. "Part of the tournament. All prizes are handled strictly by the Isthanok military." His voice turns interested. "You''ve met him?"


    "Yeah," I say. "It was how I got my first imbuement stones. Pretty interesting guy..."


    My voice trails off, and I frown, thinking back on our original meeting. Two things stand out to me. The first is that whatever role he plays, it''s related to the Trial or the Interface in some way ¡ª there has to be a reason his shop registers on my Interface. A reason he figured out I was a Trialgoer so quickly.


    The second is the finger-twisting salute he gave me. The one that matches the one both Thys and Thaht used to greet me with.


    "...Is he part of your resistance?" I ask after a moment.


    Thaht cocks his head. "What makes you say that?"


    I replicate the salute. "He did this when we first met."


    Thaht frowns. "We don''t actually know everyone that''s involved in the resistance," he says slowly. "Information security, you understand. But he never greeted me that way when we met ¡ª and I''ve definitely greeted him with it."


    "Maybe he joined recently," I suggest.


    "Or someone on their side figured out the signal," Thaht mutters.


    "I dunno. He seemed pretty genuine to me," Ahkelios comments. Thaht yelps, still surprised by the mantis whenever he chooses to talk ¡ª Ahkelios is pretty much content to lounge silently on my head otherwise, which usually leads to the people around us forgetting that he''s even there.


    "Let me go ask my brother if he knows anything about this," Thaht decides after a moment, his chest still heaving. He pauses, then glances with a critical eye down at the stairs toward the basement, where a bevy of particularly concerning noises have begun to emerge. "...I''ll give him a moment. In case he''s about to make something explode."


    There is, right on cue, a muffled boom.


    "Isn''t he just looking for the imbuement stones you guys already have?" I ask, bemused. "How is he setting off explosions?"


    "You don''t want to know," Thys says with a sigh.


    Apparently, Thys is the mad scientist between the two of them, which somehow doesn''t surprise me in the least.


    It turns out, when Thys re-emerges from the basement with soot caked all over his snout, that he has no more of an idea about the Ringmaster''s potential status as a rebel than his brother does. He does, however, have more of a clue to offer.


    "He always seems different every time I talk to him," Thys says thoughtfully. "And the hat he wears kinda hides who he is. You think maybe he''s someone different every time?"


    Now that''s a thought.


    Thys wasn''t able to find an imbuement stone down in the basement, unfortunately, although he''s insistent that he''ll be able to find it with just a few more minutes of searching. His brother doesn''t seem nearly as convinced.


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    "Do you know where we can find him?" I ask. "Not saying we''re going to go after him right now, but..."


    "Honestly, I have no idea where he goes at the end of his shifts," Thys admits. "I tried to follow him once and he just vanished."


    "Weird." And considering the Ringmaster''s potential connection to the Interface, definitely interesting. Maybe I''ll have to try following him the next time I meet him. Or maybe... "Do you know when the others are going to need us?"


    Thys and Thaht exchange glances. "Not anytime soon, I think," Thaht says cautiously. "Why?"


    "Do you remember where he vanished?" I ask, directing the question to Thys. Maybe I''ll be able to find something with my Firmament sense that he missed.


    "Uh... yeah. Pretty hard to forget," Thys says. "Nondescript alleyways are only nondescript until something interesting happens in them. Now it''s, you know, descript. A descript alleyway."


    "I don''t think that''s a word," Ahkelios pipes up.


    I don''t even bother commenting. The Interface is translating for me, and trying to figure out how it''s managed to translate a wordplay related joke that happens to not be a word in all three of our respective languages is giving me a headache.


    "Do you mind taking me there?" I ask. "We''re not going to make much progress on these Firmament sinks without imbuement stones, and unless you can find the ones you have stashed away or I can miraculously figure out how to make one within the next few hours, this is probably our next best option."


    "Maybe not the next best option," Ahkelios points out. "There''s gotta be other shops in the city that sell imbuement stones, right?"


    "Uh..." Thys glances at his brother, and then awkwardly looks around the shop. "Yes? But they''re expensive."


    "We''d have to steal ''em," Thaht says bluntly. "We don''t have the money for it right now."


    ...And this isn''t the loop where Tarin made a bunch of money betting on me, either. I suppose I could head back to the Arena and bet on him, but with his winning streak, I doubt the betting odds are going to be great right now.


    "Let''s try that if the Ringmaster thing doesn''t work," I say with a sigh. "Not sure stealing is the safest thing to do in Isthanok."


    "You''d be right about that," Thaht says. He rubs at his elbow, an almost subconscious movement; I glance at it but don''t comment.


    "So, the alleyway?" I prompt. Thys perks up.


    "I''ll lead the way!" he says. He pulls open the door to the workshop, and I wince as noise from the street suddenly floods in. "Follow me."


    <hr>


    The stink of Firmament is strong enough that it makes me cringe as we step into the alleyway.


    It''s the first time Firmament has registered like this to my senses, too ¡ª stink. Like it''s rotting. Normally, my Firmament sense acts a little like proprioception. Foreign Firmament registers to me with position and weight and density, all linked to me like it''s an extension of my own body.


    This, though? It''s hard to describe, but somehow the way it all comes together in my senses causes it to manifest a distinct, sulfuric smell. I can still tell it''s Firmament, but it''s... unpleasant.


    "Ugh," Ahkelios mutters, as if agreeing with me. I can sense this foreign Firmament pushing itself at him, as if attracted to him as a being of pure Firmament; the mantis waves irritably about from his position atop my head, chasing away the fumes. It''s not very strong, luckily.


    "Something wrong?" Thys asks, glancing back at me.


    "Yeah, this place feels... wrong," I say vaguely, glancing around.


    More accurately, it feels like a trap.


    It''s not impossible that Thys and Thaht are leading me into a trap, although I doubt that''s the case. Both of them seem fully dedicated to fighting Whisper. I don''t even think this is a trap that''s meant for me. But the fact that it triggers my senses at all...


    I frown. It''s subtle, but this is a Premonition.


    "Stop," I call out. The skill isn''t giving me anything distinct ¡ª just a vague, uneasy impression. There is danger here. No direction, no magnitude. I can''t tell if something''s interfering with the skill or if the nature of the danger is too nebulous for the skill to give me any more information.


    Thaht looks impatient. "This was your idea," he points out.


    "I know. That was before I actually got here." I reach out with Firmament Control, trying to grasp at this strange Firmament with the skill. It''s surprisingly slippery, sliding out of my mental grip even as I try to manipulate it; that, more than anything, convinces me that I need to figure out what''s going on before I continue.


    Especially since ¡ª and I grimace as I realize this ¡ª I can''t just reset the loop if something goes wrong. Death would make almost this entire loop a waste. I have no guarantee that Tarin''s plan in the Arena has borne fruit yet, and the rest of the rebels are still trying to learn what they can from Whisper''s inner council. Ending this loop now is a lot of wasted effort.


    I back up a few steps. Thys and Thaht, wary, back up with me.


    "Just let me..." I mutter, and I activate Firmament Sight.


    The alleyway explodes into color.


    Four distinct colors, in fact, though the shades are so subtle I couldn''t tell the difference with my Firmament sense alone. Each are a slightly different shade of dark red, moving erratically within the alleyway. There''s no rhyme or reason to it that I can tell, but I do see wisps of Firmament trying to curl their way around Thys''s hand, and I pull him back instinctively.


    He gives me a questioning look. I ignore it.


    Ahkelios. I speak through our link. Any ideas?


    Try Phaseslip, he suggests through our link.


    I frown. This doesn''t feel exactly the same as out-of-phase Firmament... but he''s right. There are similarities, and Phaseslip seems to enhance the information Firmament Sight is able to give me, anyway.


    I activate Phaseslip.


    Color resolves into shapes. Wispy Firmament takes on proper form, sharpening into distinct shapes, figures...


    And I feel a coldness settle over my spine as four silhouettes of the Ringmaster appear before me.

 109 — Book 2, Chapter 46 — Empty Seas

    None of them realize I can see them. I let out a breath when I realize this, relief trickling through my system; as lifelike as these Firmament mimics are, I don''t think they''re actually alive. I''m not even sure this is a trap anymore. Not an intentional one, at least. There is danger here, but the silhouettes aren''t moving with intent ¡ª they''re just drifting toward the closest source of Firmament.


    It''s the reason they went for Ahkelios first. The mantis bats at one of them as they come close to him again, grumbling, and the Firmament figure flinches and drifts away. I narrow my eyes as I watch it, trying to figure out what it is and what it wants.


    They''re Firmament constructs, in a way ¡ª just like Ahkelios. Imbued with a little less life and personality than he is, perhaps. More constrained by the Interface. I can almost see its Firmament, near-invisible chains that dig deep into the raw foundation of these false Ringmasters...


    I almost turn my gaze to Ahkelios, wondering if I can see the same thing within him, but I feel a brush of his mind against mine through our link. Don''t. You won''t like what you see. I trust you''ll work on it like you said.


    There''s something in the way he says it...


    I push away the impulse to look.


    "You''re starting to freak me out," Thaht mutters. I wave a distracted hand at him.


    "Sorry. Can''t explain right now." I sweep my gaze between each silhouette, trying to identify their differences. One of them is the one I spoke with, surely? But none of them strike me as familiar.


    Maybe none of them are. Maybe there''s a fifth fragment somewhere, or there''s something that has to happen for these Firmament constructs to be shifted into reality.


    There''s only one thing I know for sure here: this has something to do with the Interface.


    Maybe it''s time I start experimenting with it.


    Firmament Control.


    The Interface is, at its core, a construct of Firmament. The only difference I find between it and the rest of the Firmament around me is that something about it is rendered inviolate ¡ª I can''t reach it with my skills. Even if I could, I''m not sure I want to try. It''s tied directly to the core of my Firmament, and the little I can detect of the machinery it''s composed of is so complex I''m more likely to tear myself apart by accident than accomplish anything useful.


    Show me the shop window, I direct. It''s the only thing in the Interface I know for certain is tied to the Ringmaster in some way. Sure enough, I see some of the mechanisms within the Interface begin to move ¡ª little plates of Firmament shifting, flickers of power flickering between invisible points that are still beyond my senses.


    Then the whole thing stops.


    [ The Craven Arena shop is not currently available. ]


    I know.


    But I see the lever it uses. The mental command pulls on something in the Interface. I pull on my Firmament, extracting the raw stuff from my core and shaping it into a loop. That loop I pull tight around the so-called lever that the Interface uses.


    I may not be able to use my skills on the Interface''s Firmament, but that doesn''t mean I can''t affect it at all.


    [ The Craven Arena shop is not currently available. ]


    I pull harder.


    [ The Craven Arena shop is not currently available. ]


    Harder.


    [ The Craven Arena shop is not currently available. ]


    "Uh, Ethan?" Ahkelios says out loud. "Are you sure¡ª"


    "Help me," I say quietly.


    If there''s anything I can say about my circumstances, it''s that I''m not moving fast enough. Too many things to do, not enough time.


    This is the first time I''ve had the opportunity to force the Interface to behave in a certain way ¡ª to make it bend to my whims, and not that of the Integrators. I can''t say I know for certain this will work, but I want it to. If I can do this ¡ª if I can iterate on it, gain better control of the Interface ¡ª I''m going to have an advantage none of the other Trialgoers do.


    And while that''s not something I''ve thought about until now, now that it''s occurred to me, I find myself seized by an inexplicable want. I feel something stirring within me, the aching echo of the Void, that endless desire for strength. For once, we''re aligned on this desire.


    All this sneaking around has just shown me that I need to be stronger.


    "Please," I add.


    I feel Ahkelios join his strength with mine. I feel his quiet acquiescence, a measure of his strength and his experience join with my Firmament. My will joins with his own, and together, we pull.


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    You know this isn''t supposed to be possible. Ahkelios''s voice echoes through our bond. It''s surprisingly warm. In the time I''ve known him, I''ve seen him cheeky, sarcastic, vulnerable, pained... This is just affection. Confidence.


    When has that stopped us? I say..


    I hear his chuckle. Good answer.


    The lever moves.


    I see Firmament being drawn from somewhere ¡ª some impossibly large engine that must be the main body of the Interface. I catch only the barest glimpse of it before it''s once more hidden from my sight. I see the hooks within each Ringmaster-mimic suddenly pull tight, drawing them together. Firmament boils and bubbles, and the stench fades away; a flash of light¡ª


    "Whoa!" Thys cries out, shielding his eyes. His brother pulls him close almost protectively, squeezing his eyes shut and stepping in front of Thys.


    In front of us, the Ringmaster collapses onto his knees, heaving like he''s on the verge of vomiting.


    The shop window opens up before me.


    [Arena Points: 0


    Shallow Fire Imbuement Stone (Rank F) ¡ª 20 AP


    Shallow Water Imbuement Stone (Rank F) ¡ª 20 AP


    Shallow Lightning Imbuement Stone (Rank F) ¡ª 30 AP


    Submerged Water Imbuement Stone (Rank E) ¡ª 40 AP


    Submerged Earth Imbuement Stone (Rank E) ¡ª 40 AP


    Submerged Air Imbuement Stone (Rank E) ¡ª 60 AP ]


    I can almost see the way the window hooks into the Ringmaster. It explains how he was able to tell I was the Trialgoer, I suppose ¡ª he seems to be linked to the Interface in some way ¡ª but...


    "I have so many questions," Thaht says, staring at the Ringmaster and then at me.


    I ignore him, kneeling down by the Ringmaster instead. "Are you alright?" I ask. He gestures at me ¡ª a sharp shake of the head, followed by a nod toward the entrance of the alleyway. It takes me a moment for me to parse what he''s trying to say. "Uh, do you guys mind if we bring him back to your workshop?"


    "Our workshop?" Thaht gives the Ringmaster a skeptical look. "...Sure, I guess. Any particular reason, or..." I gesture to my lips, then up at Whisper''s castle; Thaht''s expression clears into a grimace. "Right. Our workshop it is. Right this way, sir."


    ¡ª


    The Ringmaster''s voice is more ragged than I remember it. It sounds almost like he''s out of breath. He clutches at the nearby table for stability, his chest heaving and his hat nearly slipping out off his head; it''s Ahkelios, of all people, who hops over to his shoulder and steadies it for him. He lets out a grunt of thanks, his body trembling slightly.


    "You... pulled me out." The Ringmaster''s voice is hoarse. "How did you..."


    "I barely know what I did," I admit. "What happened to you?"


    The Ringmaster takes a moment to catch his breath. His eyes flicker slightly as he steadies himself, looking around the workshop, at Thys and Thaht, and then finally at me. "I was chosen," he says. There''s a vehemence with which he says it ¡ª a bitterness that flavors his words when he speaks them. "By the Integrators."


    I have a terrible suspicion I know what this means, but I ask anyway. "Chosen how?"


    "The Trials need people to run them." The Ringmaster''s reply is dull and practiced, like he''s trying to say the words without thinking about them. There''s an exhaustion buried deep in his voice, a layer of fear aged into apathy. "I was one of those chosen. We are... elements of the Trial, once bound. No longer our own."


    The fact that I expected this doesn''t make the words any easier to hear. "And when I last spoke with you? If you remember that."


    The Ringmaster''s gaze focuses on me briefly, trying to remember. "Yes," he says after a moment. "I am allowed to be whole when I am speaking to a Trialgoer. But even then, there are restrictions... there are no such restrictions now. What did you do?"


    I glance to the still-open Interface window. "Forced the issue," I say dryly, though not without a tinge of worry. "I''m not sure it''ll last."


    The Ringmaster shakes his head. "It is better than nothing," he says. The words are only half-directed at me, like he''s also trying to convince himself. "Even a temporary reprieve... But you must have called on me for a reason. Not simply to free an old man, surely?"


    "I do need some imbuement stones from your shop," I admit with a grimace. The Ringmaster''s expression doesn''t change ¡ª he isn''t offended, at least. It''s not like I knew the situation he was in when we decided to look for him. If I''d known...


    I don''t know. There''s not much I can do about his situation right now. Freeing him is the end goal ¡ª freeing everyone from the Integrators is the end goal. If I can do something for him before that, I will, but I don''t see a way to do it without taking over the Interface entirely.


    "You don''t have any arena points," the Ringmaster notes. I nod.


    "They don''t carry over between loops," I say. "I was sort of hoping you''d just have a stash somewhere we could borrow."


    "Unfortunately not," the Ringmaster says. There''s a note of dry amusement in his tone for the first time. He is, at the very least. recovering. Thys and Thaht are watching him in a combination of fear and amazement, like they''re worried he''ll once again vanish into thin air, which... is a valid concern, to be fair.


    "Can he use my points?" Thys pipes up. "It''s not like I use them for anything."


    The Ringmaster pauses at this, tilting his head in thought. "It is possible," he says, in a tone that says it technically isn''t. "I will allow it. How many points would you like to transfer to him?"


    "I''m in a time loop, aren''t I?" Thys shrugs. "All of ''em."


    "Thys!" his brother hisses at him.


    "What?" Thys looks at Thaht. "If we''re going to help them, we might as well go all out on it. No point holding back. Look at what we just learned about the Integrators. It''s worse than what we''re trying to fight against with Whisper."


    Thaht frowns, like Thys''s words physically stung him. He opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out; instead, he sighs. "You''re right," he says eventually. "But I don''t like it. We were saving those points."


    "Eh, you''re closer to getting the Firmament oscillator than I am," Thys says, waving a hand dismissively.


    The Ringmaster draws my attention by grabbing my wrist. "I will unlock part of the shop for you," he tells me. "I have told you before that the rewards available in the Arena are lesser than those offered by the Isthanok military. That was a truth for most, but not for Trialgoers. You would not normally unlock this without achieving this many points yourself, but as Thys has offered you his points..."


    [ You have received 320,764 Arena Points. ]


    I glance over at Thys, who grins at me, misinterpreting my look of shock. "I have no clue what ''unlock'' means in this context, but that sounds like a good thing!" he says cheerily.


    The Interface window before me changes. This time, there''s only one item listed on it.


    ...That was a lot of points that Thys had. He must''ve been acquiring them for years.


    [Arena Points: 320,764


    Abyssal Hunger Imbuement Stone (Rank S) ¡ª 300,000 AP ]

 110— Book 2, Chapter 47 — Hunger

    I stare at the shop window for a moment, then look past it at the Ringmaster. "Should I be worried about the stone''s aspect being listed as hunger?" I ask.


    It''s mostly a rhetorical question. Of course I should be worried. Even Thys looks skeptical.


    The Ringmaster, to his credit, gives it a moment of thought before answering the question. "Hunger is not an easy aspect to work with," he says, his tone low and solemn. "But it should not pose a problem for a Trialgoer such as yourself without an external factor that exacerbates the problem."


    I think back to the Void Inspiration within me and wince. "Right," I say. "And the worst thing that can happen?"


    "Either the stone''s Firmament will consume you, or it will consume your Firmament." The Ringmaster eyes me. "With you, I suspect it will be the latter."


    "...What''s the difference between the two?"


    Thys pipes up, the kobold hopping excitedly as if glad he can finally contribute. "I know this one!" he says. "Firmament aspects have a few different recognized categories, although there are so many it''s hard to categorize all of them. The broad and most common ones are elemental, foundational, and abstract.


    "Elemental aspects are the easiest to work with. They just represent traditional elements ¡ª fire, water, ice, that kind of thing. They don''t have any level of intelligence, so they''re pretty amenable to control unless you''re dealing with something exceptionally powerful.


    "Foundational aspects are a step above that. They''re kinda like elemental aspects, but they''re all the ways we define reality. So foundational aspects are things like space, gravity, and time."


    It occurs to me this means it should be possible for me to find or make a temporal imbuement stone. I wonder if that''ll help me manipulate the loops any.


    "Then there''s abstract aspects," Thys continues. "Those are the hardest to manipulate because they''re all a little bit alive? Abstract aspects are stuff that only really exist as we define them. There''s some that cross over with emotion, like hunger, and then there are completely abstract ideas like truth, or superstition, or the concept of organization and categorization itself. I think the theory is that they''re alive ''cause they only exist in our heads, so the Firmament picks up a little bit of what''s in us. " He taps the side of his head as if to demonstrate.


    I just raised a bemused eyebrow. "And this relates to the original question... how?"


    "When you''re working with living Firmament, the equation changes," Thaht says, deciding to speak up in place of his overexcited brother. Thys makes a noise of protest, and Thaht ignores him, wrapping a hand around Thys''s snout so he can''t speak. I snort a bit in amusement at the sight. "Exerting influence on Firmament is a two-way street. Either you control the Firmament, or the Firmament controls you. Getting your Firmament consumed isn''t so bad. If you''re consumed, that basically means the Firmament is taking over. I don''t know if it''s different for Trialgoers, but I doubt it."


    I glance at Ahkelios. "Any ideas there?"


    Ahkelios frowns a little. "It is a little different for Trialgoers," he says cautiously. "The Interface provides some protection against that kind of control ¡ª but the protection isn''t perfect, and I wouldn''t rely on it. I''ve lost a couple of loops trying to fight against weird Firmament types. It''ll help you push away the influence eventually, but it won''t do it immediately."


    "Better than what we''ve got, I guess," Thaht mutters, almost to himself.


    It''s good to know that there''s a safeguard of sorts, but... I can''t afford to lose multiple loops to being controlled by Hunger Firmament. Who knows what kind of damage I''d do? Nevermind the possibility that the Hestian Trialgoers will figure out counters to me while I''m under its control. "And the best way to prevent that kind of control...?"


    "It is your will against that of the Firmament." The Ringmaster speaks up again, his voice grave. "There are no clever tricks or workarounds here. You will face the Firmament''s Hunger, and you will have to overcome it."


    Of course there aren''t.


    "I mean, for what it''s worth, it''s not that hard to fight a Firmament''s aspect," Thys pipes up, finally managing to push away his brother''s hand¡ªmostly by half-clambering over it. He''s now hanging awkwardly over Thaht''s arm as he speaks. "All you have to do is focus on what makes you you."


    "And you have me to help," Ahkelios tells me. "After the first phase shift, living Firmament isn''t as dangerous to you anymore ¡ª you''ve built a core to protect your identity with. So I think you''ll be fine."


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    "You all better be right," I say with a sigh.


    I''m not seeing much of a choice here, though. I could wait for Thys and Thaht to find their missing imbuement stones, but I''ve got one I have access to right here ¡ª one that will likely make a Firmament sink better than anything either Miktik or I were able to make before. If I can make this work, I can throw it into the portal created by the Empty City dungeon and carry it over into the next loop...


    Where Thys could once again lend me his points and let me buy another one of these stones.


    There is some risk with this plan. But the benefits, I think, outweigh the risks. If this works, it''s the advantage we need against Whisper.


    "You don''t have the physical stone with you, do you?" I ask, frowning at the Ringmaster.


    He shakes his head. "You''ll have to buy it directly through the Interface this time."


    I mentally select the Abyssal stone in the interface, then wince as a surge of foreign Firmament suddenly slams through me; I almost immediately recognize this Firmament as related to the Void. I can feel the Inspiration stirring within me at the familiarity, even, excitement filtering in through its normally sluggish thoughts.


    [ You have spent 300,000 Arena Points. You have gained an Abyssal Hunger Imbuement Stone (Rank S). ]


    In my hand, a pitch-black stone materializes. It''s heavy, is the first thing I notice about it; the suddenness of the weight is enough that I almost immediately drop it. It''s maybe half the weight of a bowling ball while being only a quarter of the size.


    The second thing I notice is the way it seems to draw in the light and the Firmament around it. In that way, it feels very similar to the Void Inspiration lurking inside me. Thys sucks in a breath at the sight. His brother takes a step back, as if the stone makes him uneasy. Ahkelios mumbles something I can''t hear.


    Me? I just stare at the stone.


    It''s so... pretty.


    ¡ª


    Tarin glared out at the arena.


    Whisper was having him fight three opponents. Three. It was bad enough when she''d announced that he was too challenging of an opponent, and declared that he was to now fight two opponents at once ¡ª that pushed him to his limits, but it didn''t make things impossible.


    Three, though? It was obvious what her plan was. It was obvious what she thought was happening. She wanted to push him as close to death as possible, in the hopes that his son would show up to rescue him.


    He almost laughed at the thought. Naru wouldn''t show up here if his life depended on it. For all he knew, his so-called son was watching the tournament and enjoying the sight of his father getting beaten up. Tarin''s thoughts went briefly to his wife, to what Mari would undoubtedly think about all this, and his heart tightened a bit when he remembered he would not be able to tell her.


    Not now, anyway. Not without causing... more anguish than he wanted.


    "You can back out, you know," one of his opponents said. She was a morphling whose Firmament made his feathers feel like they were falling off ¡ª just being near her made his beak ache. Something about the Firmament she used. She was the most dangerous out of the three he was facing, and, strangely, probably the most sympathetic. She genuinely didn''t want to fight him. "Don''t know why Whisper''s setting up the tournament against you like this. Seems pretty obvious it''s unfair."


    "Who know why," Tarin said with a shrug. "But I not scared. We fight, yes? No need worry."


    The morphling''s eyes narrowed a little. "You think you''ll win?"


    Tarin considered his opponents for a moment. Besides the morphling, there was a species he didn''t recognize ¡ª a man that looked more like a plant than a person. He wondered in the back of his mind what Ethan''s little friend would think of him.


    He seemed the least dangerous of the three, though. The way he kept shifting his feet, the way the intensity of his Firmament rose every time he did so ¡ª Tarin didn''t have Ethan''s sensory capabilities, but if he had to guess, then the plant-man''s abilities were probably oriented around battlefield control. He would be seeding his power into the ground even now, for use when the time was right.


    And the third opponent... He couldn''t figure her out at all. She was seemed barely present on the battlefield. She was a silverwisp, but the ethereal mist that made up her body was lighter than most, almost like she was in the process of fading away. Even now, with the battle about to begin, she didn''t seem like she was looking at him. Just through him.


    Not out of a misplaced sense of confidence, as far as he could tell. If Tarin had to guess, he''d guess that whatever her abilities were, it required her to stay detached from the fight.


    Taking all his opponents into account...


    "I not sure," Tarin said. He grinned, twirling his stick between his wings. Whisper had been nice enough to allow him a weapon, probably because the outcry from the crowd was getting too much for her to tolerate ¡ª she could, after all, hear every single criticism that was being thrown her way.


    He''d chosen a stick mostly to mess with her and make those little whispers worse. What would it look like, that she declared he would be allowed a weapon from her armory, only for him to walk out of it holding a stick?


    It wasn''t like the crowd would be able to tell he''d personally imbued the stick.


    "But we have good battle, yes?" Tarin added cheerfully.


    The morphling snorted, but he saw the gleam of respect in her eyes and the slight nod she gave him. "Sure," she said. "Don''t worry. I''ll do my best not to kill you."


    Tarin laughed. "I also try!" he said. "But you not touch my tail feathers. My wife like those."


    "Hah. Deal."

 111 — Book 2, Chapter 48 — Imbuement Interface

    "Uh... Ethan?"


    Ahkelios is talking to me, I think. I''m not sure. I haven''t looked away from the stone yet. I can feel the Void Inspiration calling out to it¡ªnot just the Void, actually. The Accelerator is stirring, too. The Void''s ''sister'', or so it claimed.


    There''s almost a resonant factor between the two. I can feel something that isn''t quite Firmament growing and bubbling between my Inspirations and the stone. A faint but distinct pop in my ears almost disorients me, and I shake my head, trying to focus. There''s something here. Something lying in the space between Inspiration and Firmament, pulling at my senses, demanding all of my attention.


    The stone is beautiful. There''s a speckled glow in it that looks almost like stardust. Every time the lighting shifts or changes, a new nebula spawns in the abyssal black of the stone.


    I can feel what it''s trying to do. It''s trying to appeal to my Hunger.


    The only problem with that plan is that there''s at least one thing inside me that''s far hungrier than I am.


    "I''m okay," I tell Ahkelios, though I don''t take my eyes off the stone. Even if the majority of the stone''s influence is being shunted off to my Void Inspiration, there''s something I''m sensing here that''s very real. Whatever it is, that space between¡ªmy intuition tells me I need to understand it, that there''s some fundamental secret about Firmament I can discern if I listen to its whispers.


    Or maybe that''s just the Hunger Firmament speaking to me, and I''m not as unaffected as I think.


    "I''m probably okay," I amend. "Keep an eye on me. I don''t want to lose myself to this thing."


    Ahkelios gives me a suspicious sort of look, folding his arms across his chest, but I ignore him. That warning should be good enough. In the absolute worst case scenario, he can kill me before the stone''s Firmament has a chance to take me over¡ªno need to worry about losing multiple loops to it then.


    I am distantly aware that being even more cavalier about my deaths are most likely not a positive development.


    But I can''t silence the part of my brain that insists that there''s something here. I reach out with my senses, trying to understand what''s happening between my Inspirations and the stone. I can feel the Void Inspiration trying to reach out, trying to take¡ªand I can feel the Hunger Firmament doing exactly the same thing. The Accelerator hovers around, semi-active but not interfering with this process.


    I go over what I understand about Inspirations.


    They''re some sort of modification performed directly on me by an Integrator. Gheraa''s made this clear with his overly dramatic installations of the various Inspirations I''ve earned, from shoving an eye in place of my actual eye for the All-Seeing Eye to the Aspect of Regrowth Inspiration tearing its way into my body. They aren''t as physical as he makes it seem, but there is something about my core that''s fundamentally altered by these changes, and whatever these alterations are, they allow me to do things that seem almost... orthogonal to what normal Firmament is capable of.


    They''re modifiers. When I activate them, they change the way Firmament is processed, causing a skill to emerge with new effects or allowing me to do new things with my skills. The All-Seeing Eye allows me to see the intricacies of them and merge them, for example¡ª


    I almost smack myself in exasperation when I realize what I''m missing.


    If I''m trying to understand an invisible phenomenon created by the interaction between Inspiration and Firmament, then the All-Seeing Eye is perfect for it. Especially in combination with Firmament Sight.


    Firmament Sight alone might not be able to do it, but...


    All-Seeing Eye. Firmament Sight.


    Darkness bubbles into existence in front of me.


    Hunger Firmament isn''t black, exactly. It''s closer to a gray-brown nothing, the kind of color you might paint on something you''d rather forget. There''s an intensity to it, though, likely from the sheer grade of this imbuement stone¡ªthis Hunger Firmament is powerful. It pulls at everything around it, like it wants nothing more than to become something meaningful.


    Maybe that''s what Hunger Firmament is.


    The Void Inspiration, meanwhile, reaches out with something that isn''t quite Firmament. I don''t have a good word for it. It''s pulling on the Hunger Firmament with the idea of need and want, like a conceptual force capable of affecting the very nature of Firmament. I suppose that''s how it modifies my skills and makes them devour Firmament¡ªit makes them eager to consume other forms of Firmament.


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    Or, when it''s attacking Whisper''s Firmament, it''s... making the Firmament consume itself?


    I''m not sure how to feel about that one.


    It''s different with the Hunger Firmament, though. Maybe it''s because the Void Inspiration senses a kindred spirit, or maybe Hunger is just too similar already to what the Void Inspiration can do. Either way, the Inspiration''s attempt to change or consume the Hunger Firmament just doesn''t stick.


    And instead, something grows between them. It''s like an unexpected runaway chemical reaction. Between the two is a force that''s neither Firmament nor Concept¡ªlike the clash of the two has stripped away the outer shell of what these powers pretend to be and unveiled something underneath.


    It feels like... direction. Like intent.


    Perhaps more alarming, it feels like someone else''s intent.


    The moment I grasp that¡ªthe moment I recognize that¡ªit recognizes me, too. I feel an immense weight pressing down on me. It happens for just a fraction of a second, but in that fraction of a second it feels like I''m being made to hold up a mountain. If the power difference between myself and the Hestian Trialgoers is a chasm, then what I''ve caught a glimpse of here is... it''s an abyss. An ocean''s worth of water wouldn''t be enough to define the sheer gulf between me and whoever or whatever this is.


    "Ethan? Ethan!" Ahkelios is calling out to me, panicked. I slowly come to the realization that I''m on my hands and knees on the floor, hyperventilating, sweat pouring down my skin and my fingernails bloody from digging into the ground. It takes me a moment to shake off the fugue¡ªI''m not sure what happened, but there''s a pervading sense of nausea and an ache present in my body that wasn''t there before.


    "I think... I think I just looked at something I shouldn''t have." I grimace, pushing myself back into a sitting position on the ground; when I go to wipe the sweat off my nose, my hand comes away bloody.


    "That happened because you looked at something?!" Ahkelios demanded.


    "I think so." I frown. The memory of what I was able to see is already slipping away¡ªmy mind can''t seem to hold on to it. More specifically, the more I try to remember it, the more my memory of it seems to fade... so I quickly shove whatever happened to the back of my mind.


    It might be important later, which means for now, I need to very carefully not think about it.


    "I can''t talk about it," I say, before Ahkelios or any of the others present can question me. "But I think I can perform the imbuement now."


    I grasp the stone. The Void Inspiration and Accelerator both are quiet¡ªwhatever I just did seems to have silenced them, at least for now. The Void in particular feels almost like it''s trying to hide within my soul; I can feel it shaking, like it''s afraid of whatever it is I just saw.


    That''s worrying in and of itself. That thing usually has only one emotion, and it''s hunger.


    The stone and its Hunger Firmament, on the other hand, seem fortunately entirely unaffected, maybe because neither of them are connected to me the way my Inspirations are. I call on Hueshift, feeling its Firmament flowing through me and into the stone as I begin the imbuement process¡ª


    [ New feature unlocked! Thanks to your dedication to understanding the process of imbuement, you may now perform imbuement using the Interface. To use it, open the imbuement window, then select an input skill and target item. Please note that once the imbuement process begins, it cannot be interrupted. Attempting to halt or alter the process may result in personal injury. ]


    I frown again.


    My first instinct isn''t interest¡ªit''s suspicion. The warning isn''t what bothers me about it; interrupting any kind of imbuement feels like a recipe for a bad time, especially considering the amount of Firmament that''s presumably used for it at higher levels of the skill. What concerns me, however, is the timing.


    I''ve been working on understanding imbuement for a while now. If what the Interface says is true and this unlock only happened because I achieved some requisite level of understanding, then it should have triggered in tandem with whatever discovery allowed me to cross that threshold.


    Instead, it''s happening now. At the exact same time I feel like I''ve discovered something significant about the nature of Firmament and Inspirations. The timing of it feels far too convenient¡ªalmost like it''s trying to distract me.


    At the same time, I can''t deny that it''s a useful unlock. And I do need to not think about what I''ve just discovered.


    Who knows. Maybe Gheraa''s interfering to help me again. It wouldn''t be the first time he''s done it.


    There''s a third possibility here¡ªthe possibility that this feature exists so that we Trialgoers don''t dive any deeper into the secrets of imbuement. Maybe there''s something there that the Integrators don''t want us to know. I make the promise to myself that I''m not going to abandon manual imbuement. For one thing, Virin''s still going to need my help, and for another, I don''t trust the Interface enough to trust that this isn''t a feature that will hamper my progress in the long run.


    For now, though?


    It is useful. And it lets me work around having to interact directly with this Hunger-based Firmament.


    "Hey, Ahkelios," I say out loud. "Did you ever unlock an imbuement feature in your Interface?"


    Ahkelios gives me a strange look. "That''s a thing?" he asks.


    "Apparently." I shrug. I''m not about to complain. I tap mentally on the Interface, bringing up the imbuement window and selecting both Hueshift and the Abyssal Hunger stone.


    [ Please confirm the imbuement of (Hueshift, Rank B) into (Abyssal Hunger Imbuement Stone, Rank S). ]


    Confirmed.


    [ Commencing imbuement. ]


    Firmament begins to gather and surge. I grin to myself, just a little bit self-satisfied, and then activate Firmament Sight.


    I''m not sure if the Integrators want to hamper my ability to learn imbuement.


    But if that''s their goal, then maybe they shouldn''t have provided me with a tool that will let me learn exactly how they do it.

 112 — Book 2, Chapter 49 — Thank You For Using Whispersink

    The imbuement process takes exactly five minutes, and so much happens in those five minutes that it''s almost impossible for me to absorb it all. There''s a couple of things I pick up on almost immediately, though. The first is that the Interface''s process of imbuement is far different from anything I''ve seen so far¡ªthere''s no working with the Firmament here. It feels more like the Interface peels the stone open with sheer force of will and shoves the Hueshift skill into it.


    And "peels" is really the right word for it, to my discomfort. Every layer of Hunger Firmament that''s anchored to the stone is quite literally peeled away, and layers of my own Hueshift Firmament are shoved into place in between.


    The second is that there are more forces at play than just some variant of Firmament Control. I catch a glimpse of that same force I caught before, I think¡ªwhatever force it is that lies between Firmament and Inspiration. There''s a wisp of intent that forces those layers apart.


    Everything else that happens is so rapid that it''s difficult for me to catch a glimpse of. There''s something different going on in every layer of Firmament. It''s like the Interface does something different in each layer to properly anchor the Hueshift Firmament to it.


    Virin is going to find this very interesting, I suspect. I make a mental note to try to upgrade Quicken Mind when I can, or at least to prepare Compounded Mind for my next attempt.


    For now, though, I''ve got a fully-functional Firmament sink.


    I think.


    "This should work," I say, eyeing the Abyssal Hunger stone carefully. I can feel how much Hueshift is packed into it. In fact, the effect itself is visible, if I look closely¡ªthe air around it is warped a tinge of blue. "Thys, do you have any of the sink prototypes?"


    "We have a whole drawer full of incomplete ones," Thaht says dryly before his brother can respond; the other kobold folds his arms and huffs at being denied the opportunity to speak. "It''s the souleater seeds that are hard to get, if you haven''t figured that out already. The regulators are complicated and expensive to make, but we''ve got the materials and all it takes is time. The souleater seeds take weeks to acquire and even longer to grow."


    "...The what?" I ask blankly.


    "You know." Thaht gestures impatiently to the stone in my hand. "That''s the component you''re replacing with your stone, right? The souleater roots."


    I remember seeing a plant buried within the first prototype Miktik showed me. "That thing''s called a souleater?"


    Thaht shrugs. "It''s a parasitic plant that consumes the Firmament of whatever it''s attached to," he says. "I assume that''s why they named it that. I didn''t name it. Honestly, the imbuement stone is better. We just don''t have an easy way to perform an imbuement. Souleater roots are our second best option, but they''re hard to acquire and we can''t use fully matured plants because, uh, they''ll kill us."


    "They''ll do what now?" I say blankly. I turn to stare at Ahkelios. "Remind me to be much more careful about the plants on Hestia. And also about what plants I let you get near."


    "You''re not my dad," Ahkelios says with a huff. "Besides, those sound like the most interesting plants! I''ve never encountered them before, probably."


    "Probably?"


    "I still can''t remember most of my life on Hestia and I won''t until we find another Remnant," he says.


    "...Fair point." I glance down at the stone in my hand. "Alright, well, hand me one of the prototypes and I''ll try to fit this thing in there."


    Thys scrambles to grab one before his brother can. I smile a bit at the sight, amused¡ªit''s not a competition, but Thys seems a bit stubborn about contributing¡ªthen begin to work on incorporating the new imbuement stone into the prototype.


    About two minutes in, Thys snatches it away from me. "I can''t watch this anymore," he declares. "Give me the stone."


    "What?" I ask, annoyed.


    "Half the regulators aren''t even functioning the way you connected them," Thys complains. "You can imbue a stone, but you don''t understand the engineering that goes into this thing! You''re going to vent half the absorbed Firmament back into the sink this way and crack it before it even gets a chance to work properly."


    ...That does explain a bit about what happened with the first, impromptu version I made before running off to fight Whisper. Granted, I''d only had the stone at the time, but there was a reason the rest of the sink was necessary. I step back and let Thys handle it, the kobold muttering to himself as he begins putting it together.


    I try to pay attention, I do, but he''s right: a lot of the actual engineering goes over my head as soon as he starts. I can make sense of how the Firmament flow is supposed to work, but I''m not exactly an expert with the mechanical components of the thing.


    Instead, my mind drifts onto the ever-present question: what next.


    I want to make sure the new Firmament sink works, but both Thys and Thaht seem quite convinced that it will, and the Ringmaster seems impressed with the working, though he hasn''t said a word. I suspect his time here''s almost up¡ªthe arena shop closed after I purchased the Abyssal Hunger stone, and I can feel his Firmament slowly dissociating back into the multiple phantoms I noticed before.


    "Thanks for your help," I tell him quietly. He gives me a slight nod.


    I''ll test the Firmament sink as soon as I get the opportunity, and I should get an opportunity soon. The next step is going to be to catch up with the rest of the rebels and see if any of them have managed to acquire the information we need to enact our plan¡ªto make it look like Whisper''s council members are working against her. I''m sure at least one of the rebels will need the Firmament sink. This isn''t exactly a quiet operation.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    After that...


    Well, the plan after that is going to be unpleasant. I doubt Ahkelios is going to like it.


    But I''ve got a time loop on my side. If I can get one working Firmament sink?


    Then I don''t need to stop at just one.


    <hr>


    Bimar had to admit that she was enjoying this.


    They were taking a risk, sure. They were taking an enormous risk, even, based entirely on the word of the strange, pinkish creature that Miktik claimed she trusted. It had no feathers or protective body coverings beyond the clothes it wore¡ªand how strange was that¡ªand it claimed to be a Trialgoer.


    What a ridiculous story.


    She went along with it, partly because there was too much that made sense about what that creature said, and partly because she''d been saying for some time now that their movement needed to do more. They were too afraid of Whisper, she said. They were being too cautious. Whisper''s ability to surveil nearly everyone in Isthanok didn''t mean that she caught everything that happened, or they wouldn''t have been able to get past her at all. More likely than not, she listened for keywords, things that seemed suspicious that she might need to pay attention to.


    The appearance of perfect surveillance was just a part of Whisper''s game¡ªa deterrent to any movement that might try to rise up against her. It did work, and it was a clever strategy, but...


    Well, the point was that the Trialgoer, real or not, was giving her the opportunity to interrogate her old boss. And that was an opportunity she savored probably a little more than she should.


    "What''s our latest project, ''boss''?" she asked. She didn''t bother hiding the disgust in her tone. "Did we make any new discoveries yet, or are we still just messing up people''s Firmament?"


    The old crow in front of her stayed silent. He was pissed, she could tell¡ªhis feathers were fluffed up just a bit, and there was a raw sort of hatred burning in his eyes that she couldn''t help but enjoy. It wasn''t like she hadn''t been on the other end of this a half-dozen times while working beneath him.


    "You don''t have to answer," she said. "I can get the answers myself. I don''t suppose you changed the lock combinations you use?"


    Fizar strained to speak¡ªto call out for help from Whisper, no doubt, though it was unlikely that Whisper would be able to hear him when they were this far underground. She''d taped his beak shut anyway, as a precautionary measure.


    Bimar hummed. She found the padlocked drawer, entered the code she remembered, and...


    Yup. The old crow hadn''t even bothered to change the combination. Her heart dropped a little when she saw how many new files there were in the drawer¡ªshe hadn''t worked for him for a long time, but back when she had, they''d gone through maybe one test subject every six months.


    There were dozens of new folders in here. They must''ve started experimenting more. Because they''d had some kind of breakthrough? She filed through them one by one¡ªa young crow that died after too much foreign Firmament had been injected into his system. A silverwisp that experienced strange, unfortunate mutations, and was still being kept in one of the nearby cells. A kobold with an artificial eye that could perceive the Interfaces of Trialgoers...


    ...Huh. That one was interesting. Not what the researchers here wanted, but maybe something Ethan would be interested in. She stuck that file to the side and kept searching.


    There were a few more failures after that, each dated about six months apart. Most people that had Interface Firmament forced into them died. One or two of them survived, but not without significant damage, either physically or mentally.


    She stopped when she got six folders deep and frowned. The next folder was labeled partial success.


    "You did have a breakthrough," Bimar muttered, opening the folder and glancing through it, then turning to look at the old crow. "Was it worth it? All the dead children we went through." She stalked up to him, fury in her feathers, Firmament knife clenched in her hand. "What was it you said? You had a hunch that age matters."


    Fizar glared back at her. She didn''t see a lick of remorse in his eyes¡ªanger, yes. An impotent rage at the fact that she''d managed to restrain him. Honestly, it had been pathetically easy to get back down here and into his good graces. All she''d had to do was pretend to have had a change of heart. A few flattering words, and he welcomed her back with open arms.


    "Ten children dead because of a hunch," she said. "This partial success isn''t even a child, so you were wrong the whole time. And you don''t even care, do you?" Bimar ripped the tape off Fizar''s beak. "Do you?!"


    She''d raised her voice, she realized. Caution wasn''t as important to her anymore¡ªthere was too much anger and nowhere for it to go.


    "They died so we could learn," Fizar growled out. "It was a worthy sacrifice¡ª"


    Bimar shoved the Firmament knife into the old crown''s beak, taped it shut again, and spun around, ignoring his muffled screams.


    The knife would burn, and that was fine.


    She had some reading to do.


    It took a few minutes for her to get through both this file and the many other files that succeeded it¡ªthe partial success had evidently been enough for Whisper to ramp up funding, and Fizar had had no shortage of ''test subjects'' because of that. The long and short of it was simple: they still hadn''t been able to artificially give someone Interface access, but they had discovered that an imbuement from a Trialgoer could be artificially implanted into a person, giving them the ability to use a skill the way the Trialgoer could.


    There were problems with the process, of course. The first partial success could really barely be called that¡ªthe skill worked, but the test subject had no control over it, which resulted in haphazard skill activations that very rapidly killed the poor guy. The next few weren''t that much better. The skill sometimes merged into the flesh of the subject in strange ways, or manifested in violent bursts without any of the protections that a Trialgoer typically had.


    But they did have one complete success. Bimar''s eyes narrowed at the file.


    Remnant-02-A, unknown species. Suspected biological Integrator construct. Implanted skill: [Spatial Cut], Rank A, Strength-type


    Remnant-02-A demonstrated successful use of [Spatial Cut] three times in rapid succession with clear intent before being incapacitated by He-Who-Guards. Currently held in cell block B.


    Interesting.


    A pounding at the door interrupted her thoughts. Bimar frowned. No one else was supposed to be here¡ªshe''d made sure of it. She pulled another knife from her belt and flooded it with Firmament.


    Unscheduled visitors here were almost always dangerous, and on the off chance Ethan was telling the truth, she couldn''t die without getting this information back to him.


    Besides, there were so many things she could do with it if she could pass it on to her past self.

 113 — Book 2, Chapter 50 — Bimarked

    There''s no one at the rendezvous point when I go to check on it, which means I''m either going to have to wait or check in on the rebels myself. I choose the second option, because there''s a risk their efforts will be for nothing if they aren''t able to get whatever information they find to me before the loop ends.


    Bimar''s up first. She''s apparently visiting a hidden underground lab somewhere near the outskirts of Isthanok. It''s the most secure and dangerous location on the list, and although she claims she can navigate it just fine without any help, Thaht doesn''t seem to be as convinced.


    "It''s where she used to work, so she knows how to get around the security," he explains to me. "But she hasn''t worked in that place for years. They must have updated whatever security measures they use."


    I agree with him, so Ahkelios and I head off to find this so-called hidden lab. It''s not very hard to find with the directions Bimar left behind¡ªhonestly, even without them I probably would''ve noticed the concentration of Firmament flowing downhill. The entrance itself is pretty well-concealed, though.


    That said, it turns out Hestians aren''t much better than humans when it comes to updating their security measures. The codes Bimar left us open the doors just fine.


    "Did they just... not update the entrance codes?" I mutter in disbelief. "After they had people leave?"


    That, or Bimar just has someone on the inside that fed her the updated codes. I shake my head, walking in and taking note of the dim lights¡ªmost of the lab doesn''t seem to be powered, and it''s surprisingly empty for a supposed high-security base.


    Then the sound of an angry crow cuts through the air, accompanied by several blasts of some unspecified weapon. I grimace and start running. The sound of an angry crow is, at this point, a sound that I''m pretty familiar with.


    I prepare myself for a fight, loading up some Firmament into Compounded Mind just to have that little bit of accelerated perception in case I need to deal with fast-moving opponents. What I''m not prepared for is the sight of Bimar holding off two frog-looking people with what looks like a tiny knife as soon as I round the corner.


    "Ethan!" she squawks, spotting me. "Catch!"


    I''m not prepared for the way she reacts to my presence, either, which is to say she rolls beneath one of them, grabs him by the arm, then throws him at me.


    That''s one way to create distance, I suppose. Fortunately, releasing the prepared Compounded Mind gives me more than enough time to adjust. I grab the frog-man midair, then use an Accelerate-boosted spin to send him flying into the nearest wall. "I thought you said you could handle this," I grunt, my eyes darting around. There''s something else here.


    "These guys aren''t part of the base!" Bimar throws herself out of the way of another blast from the guy she''s fighting¡ªshe''s not using Firmament, I notice, or at least she''s not using it the way Tarin and Mari do. She''s using it with her knife, at least, but she''s not reinforcing herself at all. Strange. Can she not do it the same way they can?


    Fortunately for her, the assassin isn''t reinforcing himself, either. They''re both fighting on more or less equal footing, though Bimar''s weapon is a little more unwieldy. There''s some kind of trick to her knife. I watch as she ducks beneath a blast, slices toward the frog...


    ...The Firmament causes the knife to extend a little farther than it should, and it cuts into her opponent''s skin. I can sense a small Firmament mark left behind, imprinted into his body¡ªand then it abruptly contracts, crushing an inchwide sphere of organic material.


    I wince. Painful, but not debilitating, at least not where she''d cut. If she''d been able to inject any more Firmament in there, though, it could very well have been deadly.


    Her opponent''s more or less handled, so I take my attention off her and to the something else I sensed before. There''s more of them¡ªmore of these frog people, scattered all over the room. My Firmament sense highlights each of them against the walls and the floor. One of them is even on the ceiling, hidden between the pipes with what feels almost like a blowpipe poking out between the struts.


    A memory flashes back to me¡ªI remember one of these trying to kill me back when I first tried fighting in the Craven Arena. They''re assassins of some kind?


    Judging by that encounter and this one, their main strength is hiding. Being able to go invisible probably makes them excellent assassins to anyone without a Firmament sense. I almost unleash a barrage of skills to take them out, but manage to stop myself just in time.


    Why aren''t they attacking? Ahkelios''s mental voice filters through our link to me¡ªhe''s noticed the same thing I have. I narrow my eyes, using the extra time granted by Compounded Mind and Quicken Mind in tandem to try to figure out what their goal is.


    The one I threw at the wall is unconscious. The one that''s fighting with Bimar is trying to shoot her, but his aim is clumsy¡ªalmost too clumsy, if I watch him carefully. He isn''t aiming at anything vital, and he hesitates for a split second more than he should every time he moves to fire. It''s just enough to give Bimar time to dodge or deflect the upcoming blast.


    He''s a distraction.


    Ahkelios agrees, based on what I can feel through our Temporal Link. The ones hiding near the walls and floor are each holding some sort of dart-based weapon; three of them are aimed at Bimar, and the other three have now pivoted to be aimed at me.


    Which means they aren''t trying to kill her or fend off an intruder¡ªthey''re here to capture her. I suppose the fact that three of them are aiming at me means I''m now also on the list.


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    Well, we can''t have that, can we?


    Bimar isn''t aware of them, judging by her singleminded focus on the guy in front of her. I could wait for the six of them to make a move before taking them down, but that seems needlessly dramatic.


    Ahkelios. I send a mental signal through our shared link, and then we burst into action all at once.


    A feint toward one of the assassins aiming at me causes all three of them to fire, trying to get at me before I can move; I Warpstep behind them, closing my eyes to avoid being disoriented by the sudden change. My Firmament sense helps me plant my elbow directly into the neck of the frog that''s now behind me. I pivot, drop down low to drop the two new darts subsequently being fired in my direction, then Triplestep and Accelerate to fling the second assassin into the third.


    Ahkelios, meanwhile, is dealing with the ones trying to target Bimar. To her credit, she realizes what''s going on almost as soon as the first frog I hit crumples to the ground, mottled skin fading into visibility. Her leap to the side saves her from the first two darts that bury themselves into the wall behind her. The third dart Ahkelios quite literally kicks out of the way, using the momentum from that kick to subsequently bounce off the ceiling and into the face of¡ª


    [ You have defeated Qu''oark Jidoon (Rank C)! +15 Strength credits. +24 Durability credits. +36 Reflex credits. +20 Speed credits. +20 Firmament credits. ]


    ¡ªthrough the face of the assassin. I wince, my eyes going wide. Ahkelios shakes off the splatter of blood easily enough, but...


    The rest of the assassins stand down pretty quickly after that.


    "Damn." Bimar whistles at the body on the ground. "That was pretty ruthless."


    Qu''oark Jidoon. That''s not a species, is it? That''s a name.


    The frog I slammed into the wall isn''t moving, although I can tell he''s taking quick, shallow breaths. He''s alive, but judging by the shape of his skull and the angle of his limbs... only barely.


    The other ones I hit aren''t faring much better¡ªone of them has a broken neck, and the other two are groaning in pain, barely holding on to what looks like some very broken bones.


    The only ones intact are the three that surrendered.


    "Not intentionally," I say. My voice comes out hollow.


    It''s... jarring. The message from the Interface might as well be a bright-red neon sign telling me that I¡ªor Ahkelios, at least¡ªkilled a person. Up to this point, my kills have been on things that are at least ambiguously sapient; the harpies come the closest, and even then they''re clearly an echo of someone or something else.


    I''m not sure how I feel. Guilt isn''t the right term for it; I acted in self defense. There''s a bit of fear, but more at myself than anything else, and only because despite everything else that''s happened, I haven''t yet confronted how far I''ve gone beyond baseline human. The opponents I''m fighting are almost always reinforced in some way.


    These ones... aren''t. And I shattered them without really thinking about it, because I''ve never really had to hold back.


    "You okay?" Ahkelios asks. He doesn''t seem nearly as bothered by all this, but there is a noticeable light of concern in his eyes.


    "I will be," I say.


    I''m not about to tear myself up over this. It''s not the first time I''ve seen death in the loop, and the fact that it is a loop means all these deaths are going to reset anyway. But that''s not a healthy way to think about it long-term, and at some point I''m going to need to sit down and process where I want to stand when all of this ends.


    Killing, especially in self defense, isn''t a problem¡ªbut it should never be this easy.


    [ You have defeated Qu''urk Jidoon (Rank C)! +20 Firmament credits. ]


    Nor this rewarded. The first one I slammed into the wall just died, I think. I try not to look at his corpse.


    And the names... are these brothers?


    "Let''s talk about it later," I tell Ahkelios, then turn my gaze to the remaining three conscious assassins. They''ve dropped their weapons on the ground and have backed up against the wall, staring at me with wide, fearful eyes; the mottled burns on their skin reminds me that it''s very likely that the position they have isn''t voluntary. "Why were you trying to capture us?"


    "Orders," one of them chokes out. He''s clutching nervously at the wall, and pieces of his skin fade in and out, like he''s fighting the urge to turn himself invisible again. I notice the way his eyes keep darting toward one of his brothers, the way he keeps twitching toward them.


    "Are they your brothers?" I ask. My voice comes out a little softer than I intend, and the tight, terrified nod the frog-man gives me doesn''t help. I sigh. "Go help them."


    All three immediately dart away from the wall and toward their brothers. They stop only when I speak again. "But don''t move them. Their bones are pretty badly broken. Get a medical team down here if you want to save them."


    Well, I say that, but... realistically speaking, they''re not going to be able to get a medical team into a secret laboratory in the middle of nowhere. Even if they could, it wouldn''t be a good idea to let them. I grimace a bit at the thought.


    "What, you''re telling me you care?" one of them says in spite of himself, his voice bitter. "You''re the one that did this to them."


    I did. Part of it is because I don''t recognize my own strength. I think, somehow¡ªeven without Acceleration or any of my Interface-granted skills¡ªI''m a lot stronger than I was when I was just... human.


    I pause a little at the thought. Do I not think of myself as human anymore?


    "I did," I say. "And I won''t say I''m sorry, because I did it in self defense. But just because I had to defend myself doesn''t mean I have to be heartless about it. So yes, I do care. Because I should."


    If I''m going to be killing, I can''t let those deaths be faceless nobodies. Especially in a time loop, where that mode of thinking would be easier than ever to adopt. The problem isn''t the consequences for the world¡ªthe problem is the consequences for myself, if I let this become easy.


    "Who are you working for?" I ask. Bimar''s finally walked up next to me, watching the scene. I can''t read her expression. It looks almost like she''s still trying to decide how to react.


    I expect the answer to be Whisper, or someone underneath her. It would make sense. The only problem is that I''d have to worry about how she knew to send agents here when our movements should have been mostly opaque to her.


    "Teluwat," the assassin says instead, and I frown. I don''t recognize the name.


    Bimar clearly does though. She lets out a squawk of fear and stumbles back. "He''s here?!" she demands.


    "...Who or what is a Teluwat?" I ask. Not just someone under Whisper, if this is Bimar''s reaction. The crow shakes her head, but the tremble in her voice is very, very clear.


    "One of our Trialgoers," she says. "The¡ªthe first one to finish his Trial. The strongest."

 114 — Book 2, Chapter 51 — Remnant

    I try to get Bimar to tell me more about this Trialgoer, but she''s shaken enough from the mere mention of Teluwat that she refuses to talk about it until we''re safely back at Miktik''s workshop. That''s going to be a process in and of itself, because we have to figure out what to do with the frog-assassin-men first; eventually, we decide to just lock them up in one of the many empty holding cells that are available.


    Letting them go would pose too many problems, and we might have more questions for them later. Bimar doesn''t seem like she''s in a state to come up with any, and I don''t know enough to know what to ask.


    They don''t bother putting up a struggle, which is... a little disgruntling, for various reasons. One of them does try to go invisible and slip away, but he almost immediately turns back when I so much as glance at him, like the force of my gaze was enough to scare the idea out of his mind.


    "There are a few holding cells that are adjacent to specially-built medical facilities," Bimar says. "We''ll use one of those if you care about the nearly-dead ones."


    "They do," I say, which isn''t quite an answer to Bimar''s implied question. Ahkelios gives me a questioning look, and I just shake my head slightly.


    "Right." Bimar says nothing further. She just guides us toward the cells in question. I use a combination of Barrier and Accelerate to move the injured without jostling them too much, then set them down inside the cells when they''re ready¡ªBimar doesn''t take long to get them ready. She sets it all up with smooth, practiced motions, her gaze completely distracted and far-away all the while.


    It''s enough to bring up a lot of questions, but nothing I want to ask right now.


    "There''s something here you might be interested in, by the way," Bimar says bluntly, just as I think we''re ready to leave. I frown and glance at her¡ªthere''s no change to her expression. It''s like she''s bringing it up more as an afterthought than anything else. She''s still focused on whatever the deal with this Teluwat is. "Cell block B. I found a file. Here."


    I take the papers she hands me¡ªhow she managed to fold them under her wings I have no idea¡ªand the words on the file make my eyes widen slightly; they''re enough to completely redirect my train of thought, at least for the moment.


    "Ahkelios," I say. "Is this what I think it is?"


    "Only one way to find out," the mantis replies. From how intently he''s staring at the file, I can tell he''s hoping.


    I can''t sense another one of Ahkelios''s Remnants nearby, but the holding cells here are pretty capable of blocking Firmament¡ªI suppose they have to be, considering the nature of the experiments they''re apparently running down here.


    "You know where cell block B is?" I ask.


    "Just around the corner." Bimar nods to a bend in the corridor ahead of us, and I hurry on.


    This, at least, doesn''t need to be complicated.


    <hr>


    Remnant-02-A, as labeled by the file, is exactly what I think it is. Which makes me wonder about the number-letter scheme this lab is using and how many other Remnants they might be aware of.


    It doesn''t even take a search to find the exact cell that''s holding the Remnant¡ªa loud, screeching banging identifies the only occupied cell in the block pretty quickly. Ahkelios and I both come to a stop in front of the cell, staring at the grotesque monster behind it.


    "I can hear your thoughts, you know," Ahkelios grumbles at me. "I''m not that ugly."


    "Ahkelios, that''s a monstrous version of you that has a giant tumor instead of that neck fluff you''ve got. And it''s covered in spikes. Like a cactus. But ugly."


    "Are you saying you wouldn''t love me if I had a giant tumor and was covered in spikes?" Ahkelios crosses his arms over his chest.


    I laugh, reaching up to give his chin a light flick. "Don''t be ridiculous. If this guy was being witty at me instead of drooling acid that''s burning his own chitin I''d probably like him a lot more," I say. "You ready to reintegrate him?"


    "Am I allowed to say no?" Ahkelios asks. "Because now that I think about it, maybe I don''t want to merge with him. What if I get spikes too? I wouldn''t be able to sit on your head anymore."


    "I''m sure we can figure something out," I say dryly.


    Beneath the banter, there''s a subtle feeling of tension. It''s not that either of us are worried about the strength of this new Remnant, though it''s clearly stronger than the monster that used to kill me at the start of my loops. Even if we can''t kill it now, we''ll find a way to kill it eventually.


    No, the tension is more about how it might change Ahkelios. About how much it might cause him to remember.


    I unlock the cell door, and several things happen in rapid succession.


    The Remnant comes charging at us. I Warpstep behind it, already prepared. Ahkelios follows up by leaping off my head into the same twisting spin he used to punch himself through his last Remnant. This time, the Remnant reacts, crossing its arms in front of his attack and causing him to bounce harmlessly off of its blades.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    I hear him cry out. I''m already charging back toward the Remnant¡ªthe crowded cell and corridor doesn''t exactly give me a lot of room to maneuver, but it does give me the ability to use the walls to alter my momentum at a moment''s notice. I reach out with a hand to catch Ahkelios, then toss him up toward the ceiling so he can reorient himself; at the same time, I charge my arm with Crystallized Strength and shield it with an Amplified Gauntlet, then Accelerate myself toward the Remnant, swinging in for an empowered punch.


    The Remnant reacts. It holds up one arm as if to ward me off, but the second one is moving in a sharp, complicated pattern beneath it, so fast I have difficulty following it even with the benefit of Quicken Mind. The force of my fist punches straight through its first arm, shattering the blade¡ª


    ¡ªand then I experience a rebound impact so hard it shatters the Amplified Gauntlet of solidified Firmament off of my arm and nearly breaks the bone beneath it. I hiss in pain, retreating a few steps so I can recover while Ahkelios picks up the slack.


    That was the Spatial Cut.


    I can''t tell exactly what happened. The name of the skill made me assume it was a sort of portal-creating ability, not unlike the way the Interface opens a portal into the Empty City when I ask it for dungeon access¡ªbut what the Remnant did there was very different. It did cut into space, but it was almost like it did so just to lock it into position, turning what was essentially empty space into an impenetrable barrier.


    That''s... a pretty impressive use of that skill. Creative, too. Almost intelligent.


    Which is a little bit worrying when it comes to potential future Remnants of Ahkelios, especially considering at least one Remnant was fully conscious and intelligent.


    "I don''t suppose you can talk?" I say out loud. Ahkelios stops mid-flight to give me an incredulous look, which is just enough of a distraction that the Remnant is able to bat him out of the air; he slams into the nearest wall with an almost-familiar crack that makes dread coil in my stomach. I can''t quite keep the worry out of my voice. "Ahkelios!"


    "You distracted me," he complains, picking himself off the ground. I sigh with relief; he''s fine. "Why''d you ask if it can talk?"


    "Because it''s fighting smart!"


    The Remnant makes a noise. Both of us turn sharply to look toward it¡ªit isn''t outright trying to attack us anymore, though it doesn''t look like it''s decided on peace, either. It takes us a moment to figure out that it''s... laughing.


    The sound is a choked warble that makes its tumorous neck vibrate uncomfortably.


    "Ew," Ahkelios says.


    "Yeah, nope, we''re killing that thing," I decide with a grimace.


    Another choked, warbling laugh. It moves toward us, a disturbing, staccato movement that almost doesn''t look like a charge until I realize it''s covering a lot more space than it should.


    "That''s a Triplestep!" Ahkelios calls out, alarmed.


    "Yeah, I noticed that!" I use another Warpstep¡ª


    ¡ªonly to stumble as I reappear halfway down the corridor, my vision swimming and my Firmament suddenly burning with a persistent ache. There''s a ringing in my ears that nearly drowns out the sound of Ahkelios''s cry of concern, alongside a metallic taste in my mouth that''s far too reminiscent of blood.


    What... just happened?


    I stagger to my feet. Ahkelios is distracting the Remnant in the background, and I try to use those precious seconds to gather myself¡ªbut even then, everything feels like it''s happening too quickly. It takes me a moment to realize that my connection with Quicken MInd was disrupted, and that I have to reactivate the skill.


    I let out a slow breath.


    The Warpstep worked. I''m about where I intended to teleport. There''s a sharp ache inside me that I''m almost certain is Firmament strain from overusing my skills, but there was almost no leadup, no warning. I felt a slight pull internally, but I''ve always had more warning than this.


    Doesn''t matter. No time to think. We''re still in a fight. I''ll need a better way to keep track of how many skills I can use and how frequently I can use them¡ªnot knowing my own limits is going to get me killed.


    No more Warpsteps. Minimal Firmament use. What skill do I need?


    Phaseslip. Accelerate.


    The Remnant does try to react to me, to its credit, but the rock-solid barrier of space it erects in front of me is useless¡ªit''s a spatial barrier, not a Firmament barrier. Phaseslip lets me pass through it like it isn''t even there. The familiar crackling thrum of Crystallized Strength fills my arm, and I wind up to land a punch hopefully somewhere right in the middle of its brain.


    Instead, I encounter resistance.


    There''s a core of Firmament in its body that keeps me out when I have Phaseslip active. I grit my teeth and try to compensate, calling forth the now-sluggish Firmament in my body and trying to force more into Crystallized Strength.


    At the same time, the Remnant moves. Its entire body pivots and it launches itself at me, a spiky wrecking ball of still-laughing rage. I stumble backward, an instinctive attempt at Warpstep only bringing forth a bout of nausea; a bladed arm swings down toward me¡ª


    Ahkelios rushes in to create a bright, flaring distraction, and it''s just enough for me to twist out of the way. I catch myself against the wall, pain rattling through my body.


    Come on. I need options. My mind feels like it''s working against me, like I''m struggling against the current of my own thoughts.


    Then Bimar shows up. She takes one glance at the Remnant, looks at me, and then flings her knife directly toward... well, it feels like she threw it toward my head, but it was probably technically a few inches to the right.


    I catch it. Barely. Firmament Control lets me extend its reach, and I stab forward, pushing a chunk of Bimar''s Firmament straight into the Remnant''s skull. There''s a loud, disgustingly visceral crack before its body collapses.


    Temporal Link.


    There. Ahkelios... needs that. To link with his Remnant. I can feel the resonance between him and the Remnant snapping into place, and I catch a glimpse of the Interface popping up with a notification¡ªwith more than one notification¡ªbut I can''t focus on either event.


    I''m dizzy. Incredibly dizzy. And the exhaustion that''s pushing through me is now so intense it''s taking everything I have not to collapse entirely. I''m struggling to understand how I could have strained myself this much this suddenly, but it''s all I can do to stay conscious, and even that''s rapidly slipping away from me.


    The last thing I think is that I really hope I don''t lose this loop like this. That would just be embarrassing.

 115 — Book 2, Chapter 52 — Hollow

    I haven''t looped. I think.


    The I think is kind of a weird qualifier, I know. I''m pretty sure I''m not dead, but I''m also not entirely convinced I''m still alive. Best guess is that I''m in some kind of coma, or otherwise in some sort of transitional state, like when I managed my first Phase-Shift or when I''m picking out an Inspiration with Gheraa. Everything around me is a dull, drab gray, like I''m sitting in a colorless, Firmament-less Void.


    I''m conscious, at least. So that''s nice. The Interface feels far away from my grasp at the moment, and every attempt I make to call it up fails completely. The same goes for any attempt to use a skill, or to pull on my link with Ahkelios, or even to do something as basic as move around¡ªthere isn''t really a ground for my feet to catch on, and even if there were, there''s no sensation of inertia or landmark to tell me if I''m successfully moving.


    The isolation is suffocating. I''m trying very hard not to panic. It''s working. Mostly.


    "We have to stop meeting like this," a voice sounds out. I whirl around to find Gheraa leaning against... well, nothing, in standard Gheraa fare. His back is pressed against a wall that isn''t there, and he''s holding a white cane trimmed with gold; he twirls it around casually, tapping the tip of the cane on the also-nonexistent floor and producing an oddly metallic ting.


    I can''t deny I''m relieved to see him, even if I have no idea what he''s talking about. "This is the first time we''re meeting like this," I point out.


    "And it should be the last!" Gheraa points his cane at me. "This is incredibly dangerous. But also incredibly convenient, so good job doing whatever you did to trigger this."


    "I have no idea what I did to trigger this." Besides exhausting myself mid-fight and passing out immediately after, which isn''t something I''m planning on doing again anytime soon. There''s a part of me that''s tense about this¡ªI don''t know what state the world is in. I don''t know how I''ve left things.


    I don''t know how long I''ve been like this.


    Gheraa looks around. "Firmament exhaustion," he says after a moment. He rubs his fingers together like he''s feeling for the texture in the air, scanning for something I can''t see or sense¡ªnot in the state I''m in, anyway. "You pushed that Warpstep a lot farther than you should have. And... hm. There''s something else."


    "I''ve Warpstepped a lot farther than that without any problems," I say.


    "Yes, but this time, you were in a corridor perforated by spatial distortions," Gheraa says. He tries to rap me on the head with his cane, but I dodge out of the way and glare at him; he just grins at me. "You''re lucky the Interface is so adaptable or you would''ve torn yourself in half."


    "...You sound like you''re speaking from experience." I eye Gheraa carefully.


    "Maybe, maybe not!" Gheraa says, with just a little too much cheer in his voice. "But be careful using Warpstep against anyone that can mess with space. Actually, just be careful with spatial movement skills in general. You still have to fold all the space between you and your target with your Firmament. What do you think happens if that spatial tunnel gets messed with?"


    "Presumably the loop resets," I say, because that''s a little more pleasant of a thought than getting torn in half by a misplaced teleport.


    Gheraa just grins at me, falling back into a nonexistent chair and crossing one leg over the other. "The Interface can correct for it," he says. "It''s why the thing exists¡ªor part of the reason, anyway. You get to fire off the skill and not worry about it. But it''s going to use much more Firmament than it should, because you''re asking the Interface to compensate for something it shouldn''t have to compensate for. A single spatial distortion in the way means part of your body might have to travel several times farther than a different part of your body."


    He''s got a point¡ªI should''ve been more aware of what this Remnant was capable of and how it might interact with my skills. I shake my head and sigh. "How long have I been out, Gheraa?"


    "Not long. About two minutes." Gheraa examines me for a moment. "You''re worried."


    "And I should be." I breathe out. "But I''m guessing there''s no way to just wake up."


    "Not quickly. And there are things we need to do before then." Gheraa''s expression settles into something more serious, the faux-mirth fading away into something more grim.


    "What do you mean?" I ask. Gheraa eyes me for a moment, then goes back to examining those invisible threads in the air, picking through them with his fingers and eventually shaking his head.


    "You wouldn''t have been pulled here if all that happened was some Firmament strain. Not unless you''re experiencing ongoing Firmament strain, and not unless there''s a threat the Interface''s default settings can''t protect from you."


    ...Ongoing? "I''m not using any skills right now," I say. As far as I know, anyway.


    "You are. You''re just not aware of it." Gheraa glances around, then tries a bright smile that I don''t buy for a second. "But like I said, this is convenient! Good job. Right now, no one can see what you''re doing, not even me. We can talk in perfect privacy."


    I narrow my eyes. "Hold on. What do you mean, not even you?"


    "Oh, uh, right. I guess I haven''t actually explained what''s happening." Gheraa scratches the back of his head in a decidedly human gesture. "You''ll remember I told you I needed to prepare for our next meeting. Well, I did. This is the result of that preparation. We needed a way to talk privately, and this is the only way I could think to do it. There are no eyes on us right now¡ªno Integrator can see what we''re doing, including my real self."


    "Your... real self." I repeat the words with a small amount of skepticism; this Gheraa seems as real as any version of him I''ve ever spoken to. "I''m talking to a fake version of you?"


    "Well, depending on what you think of as fake, yes," Gheraa confirms, ignoring said skepticism. "But don''t call me that or you''ll hurt my feelings."


    "Noted," I say dryly. I can feel a thread of anxiety within me¡ªthis all means Ahkelios is integrating his Remnant alone¡ªbut I try to focus on the problem in front of me. Gheraa''s presence here can only mean one of very few things. "You want to actually explain what''s going on?"


    "Yeah. Let''s start with this. This void we''re in? We Integrators call it the Mind Vault," Gheraa says. "It''s a failsafe built into the Interface. Think of it as a protective instance your mind gets brought into if it detects a serious threat to your metaphysical existence."


    I grimace a bit at this description. "...I''m a little concerned about this ''serious threat to my metaphysical existence'', but go on."


    "I¡ªthe real me¡ªcan''t talk to you openly and directly, which I presume you''ve noticed. I''m being monitored very closely. So I imbued your Inspiration with a little bit of my own Firmament and programmed it to integrate with your Interface''s Mind Vault, to be brought to life if you ever trigger it." Gheraa seems inordinately proud of himself for the fact. "I figured the way you''re going, you''d trigger it eventually. And would you look at that! I was right! Here we are."


    He tries for a triumphant grin, resting his chin in both his hands and floating far too close for comfort. I glance at those hands, my gaze lingering for a moment.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    They''re shaking.


    Gheraa sees what I''m looking at and promptly folds his hands behind his back, fixing his smile firmly in place.


    "You know, I somehow thought you''d be less of a showman without the Integrators watching over you." I give him a small smile, and I see his shoulders visibly relax.


    "Nope! I''m a showman through and through," he says with a wink. "I mean, I''d like to have something I can still be proud of."


    "...I can relate to that."


    Gheraa nods. "Anyway! We have a lot to talk about." He takes a few steps back, regarding me with an uncharacteristic frown. "You need to know a few things about the Integrators, the Interface, and the Trial. Hopefully you''ll still want to help me after all that, but if you don''t..."


    He takes a deep breath, then shrugs, not quite looking me in the eyes. "Well, this version of me will understand," he says. "I don''t know if the real me will. I''ll expire once we finish this conversation, so it''s not like I can talk to him. Can''t leave any traces and all that."


    "...You don''t seem very comfortable with that."


    "Ethan, my friend, I am a fully sapient Firmament construct cloned from a larger, equally sapient Firmament construct. I am not comfortable with my imminent death, no." Gheraa glances at the lines of golden Firmament in his skin, watching the pulse of power beneath them. "But frankly, that doesn''t matter right now. You have questions about the Trials and the Integrators. Ask them. This is going to be one of your only chances to get straight answers."


    This is... admittedly unexpected. I''d been half-expecting to only get those answers by raiding the Integrator city myself. "You can''t just tell me what I need to know?"


    "I could try," Gheraa says. He gestures to himself. "But all this? Getting a working, living Firmament construct into your Interface? It''s pretty complicated. There''s a lot of knowledge compression I had to do to make it work, and I can''t just unpack all that knowledge without the right prompt."


    That makes sense. "How much time do we have?" I ask. I don''t want to leave the others alone for too long¡ªAhkelios is probably already panicking over me, by this point, and if there are any other threats Bimar won''t be able to deal with them alone. Not to mention everything that might be happening with the other rebels, with Tarin, with Guard...


    I''d almost forgotten about He-Who-Guards, at this point. I clench my fists. After everything Miktik told me about him, I don''t want to just leave him to Whisper.


    Especially since I''m pretty sure he held back every time we fought. I saw how effective he was against the monsters in the Fracture¡ªif he''d fought me with that strength when we first met...


    I wouldn''t have stood a chance.


    "Theoretically? As much as you need," Gheraa says, capturing my attention once more. "The Mind Vault can last for days if it needs to, and I doubt we''re going to be in here for days. Unless you really want to hang out with me." He gives me a playful grin, once again moving in far too close for comfort, and I hold him back by the shoulder with a roll of my eyes. This version of Gheraa seems a little too comfortable with getting close.


    "Let''s start with the most important bit," I say. All jokes aside, I don''t want to stay here longer than necessary. "I strained my Firmament with Warpstep, but you said there was something else¡ªsome kind of skill I''m still using. I can''t feel any Firmament or access the Interface right now, but I assume you have senses that I don''t. What skill am I using?"


    "Iron Mind," Gheraa responds immediately. "I can only partially observe what''s happening outside of your body, but I can read your history in the Firmament easily enough. What do you know about Teluwat?"


    I narrow my eyes. "Nothing. I know he''s one of the Hestian Trialgoers, but Bimar wouldn''t tell me anything more. Or she was too scared to. One or the other."


    "He''s the most dangerous of the Hestian Trialgoers, if not the most powerful," Gheraa says. He says it with enough certainty that I feel a spark of worry¡ªof Premonition¡ªalmost like the skill is responding even in my currently-disconnected state. "You''ve been resisting him since almost the moment you got into that lab."


    The idea that Teluwat was trying to manipulate me sends a surge of hot anger through me. "What was he trying to do to me?"


    Gheraa frowns, closing his eyes and rubbing his fingers together again. "It looks like he was trying to manipulate you into seeing him in person. I''m going to go ahead and suggest you don''t do that."


    "How dangerous is he?" If he''s making moves against me already, I''m going to have to face him whether I like it or not. I''ll need to be prepared. One more thing to do in a steadily-growing list.


    "Whatever you''re thinking he can do, it''s probably worse," Gheraa says. "He''s gotten a skill from the Interface that we''ve never seen before. There are Integrators worried about what he''s capable of. He might not be anywhere near being able to affect any of us, but he could mess with our plans, if he wanted to."


    "And what can he do, exactly?"


    "His skills revolve around manipulation and control," Gheraa says. "But you''ve probably figured that out already, and we''ve seen that before. There are ways to defend against mind-affecting Firmament. The problem with Teluwat is what happens afterward when he uses his main skill¡ªit''s called Rewritten Truth."


    Gheraa gestures. Dark Firmament spreads out from his fingertips, spreading into the air like the branches of a tree. "Whatever new reality he enforces on someone under his control spreads. Like a sickness made of Firmament, infecting everything else it touches."


    I stare at the slowly-expanding Firmament and feel myself taking a step back, in spite of myself. "What does that mean, exactly? He makes someone believe something and it becomes true?"


    "Essentially." Gheraa''s expression darkens slightly. "There are limitations, but nothing we''ve been able to clearly define. It''s a Firmament-based skill, so anyone capable of working with Firmament can resist it. Objects that don''t rely on Firmament are relatively immune. But Firmament is imbued into everything, including most objects and buildings¡ªRewritten Truth can alter all those things."


    "That''s..."


    "I know." Gheraa closes his fist, and the tree of Firmament shatters, scattering into the void. "We''ve never seen skills like that before. But that''s true for a lot of the new skills coming out of the Interface¡ªthat Time Punch skill of yours, for example."


    "Time Punch isn''t nearly as ridiculous as Rewritten Truth," I say with a grimace. I can''t even think of a way to counter that. If what Gheraa says is true, then Teluwat''s limitations are nearly nonexistent¡ªhis skills take advantage of the nature and prevalence of Firmament. Maybe if I could take advantage of the loops in some way.


    ...but now that I think about it, I might not be the only one able to take advantage of those loops.


    The loop takes precedence over most alterations, but not all of them. Changes to the Firmament of people tend to stick across loops, while anything altered in objects and buildings doesn''t seem to. It''s the reason Guard''s injuries were sustained across loops¡ªthe reason Whisper panics at the start of every loop.


    A realization hits.


    "Wait," I say. "Firmament changes to people are retained across loops, right?"


    "Yes." Gheraa frowns. "Why?"


    "Because," I say, "if Teluwat''s figured that out..."


    There''s a beat, and then Gheraa''s eyes narrow. "Then he''s most likely using your loops to spread his control."


    "Yup." The more I think about it, the more sense it makes¡ªit even explains the sudden appearance of Whisper''s agents under Teluwat''s control. The question is how long it takes him to realize that the loops are running and begin his work. It can''t be at the start of every loop; without outside factors like Naru learning about a Hotspot to investigate or Guard''s sudden collapse, the Hestian Trialgoers don''t seem automatically alerted to the fact that a Trial has begun.


    "The Integrators won''t like it, but they won''t help," Gheraa says, frowning in thought. "They can''t. Not with any Trial, and not with yours especially."


    That figures. I''ll have to work out some kind of counter to Teluwat on my own, then. The skill can''t be insurmountable¡ªeven Gheraa thinks it has limitations, even if he doesn''t know what those limitations are.


    So I''ll just have to work it out for myself.


    "Sounds like it''s time for you to tell me what the Trials are for," I say. "Especially if you''re implying there''s somethin special about my Trial."


    "It is. And it''s time for you to learn the true nature of Firmament," Gheraa says. He takes a breath, as if considering what he''s about to say, and then nods to himself. "...You''re going to need to be stronger. A lot stronger. So I''m going to use what I have left to train you, and as soon as we''re done, I''m going to forcibly end this loop. It''s too risky for you to stay in it while Teluwat is spreading his influence around."


    I grit my teeth¡ªI don''t like that idea, considering how much I still have to do this loop. "Only if I can''t figure something else out," I say. "I can end the loop on my own if I need to. Or with Ahkelios''s help."


    "Fine," Gheraa says. I notice he doesn''t fight me on it. His hands are still shaking, too. How much is he really feeling, under all that faux cheer and showboating? Most of it has melted away over the course of this conversation, but I still see the little subconscious gestures, the flourishes he automatically adds to his movements and the forced smile he fixes on his face.


    I sigh.


    Mind Vault or not, I want to see what''s going on with my body for myself. I close my eyes, trying to sense where I am, trying to connect to my body and its sense of Firmament.


    I can feel Gheraa watching me. "Well?" I speak without opening my eyes. "What are the Trials really for?"

 116 — Book 2, Chapter 53 — Integrators

    "First," Gheraa says. "You have to understand what the Interface is."


    There''s a pause. Gheraa stares at me expectantly, and after a moment passes, I open one eye to look at him. "What is it?" I ask, because Gheraa is clearly waiting for me to prompt him. He rolls his shoulders once, then takes a deep breath, like he''s preparing for some big reveal...


    "We don''t know," he says.


    "...What." The response is almost enough for me to lose concentration. I feel like I can almost feel where my body is and what it''s doing. Like I can feel the cold ground beneath me, and the presence of Ahkelios and Bimar''s Firmament nearby.


    But what does he mean, they don''t know?


    "We don''t know," Gheraa repeats. "I think you suspect it already, and you''re not the only one¡ªbut we Integrators aren''t the ones that created the Interface. All we did was discover it."


    I frown. It''s true that I''ve had my suspicions¡ªI''ve talked about this exact scenario with Ahkelios¡ªbut it''s discomforting to have it just confirmed like this. The Interface is an enormously powerful tool, and the idea that the Integrators are spreading it around without fully understanding it... it makes me wince.


    "Then what''s the point?" I ask. "Why Integrate civilizations with the Interface at all? Why have these Trials?"


    Gheraa shifts uncomfortably. "You have to understand that I''m just repeating the philosophy of the Integrators, not necessarily my own," he starts. I incline my head toward him¡ªthat''s pretty much a given, at this point. "We view the Interface as... the closest translation would be that it has religious significance to us. Many Integrators believe it''s directly responsible for our existence."


    "Because you''re made of living Firmament?" I raise an eyebrow. I''m not sure I see the connection.


    "Correct. Or that''s part of the reason, at least." Gheraa hesitates for a moment, then takes a step back, gesturing to the blank space around us both. "Integrator history is a little muddled, but our discovery of the Interface happened more or less at the start of our recorded civilization. Our doctrine teaches us that we were created as guardians of the Interface¡ªresponsible for both its spread and empowerment. The only problem is that, as I''m sure you''re aware, a lot of what the Interface is capable of is locked away or hidden. There are many features triggered only when prerequisite conditions are met."


    "And the Trials are... what, an attempt to unlock more Interface features?" I ask. It''s a half-hearted guess, but Gheraa''s silence speaks volumes. I stare at him. "You can''t be serious."


    "It''s not completely right, but you''re most of the way there." Gheraa shrugs, the tension in his shoulders clearly uncomfortable. "You''re aware by this point that every planet has a Heart, yes?"


    "Vaguely." It''s not like anyone''s ever explained in explicit terms to me what the Heart of a planet is, and although Hestia''s has ostensibly spoken to me, I can''t say that that''s allowed me any more insight into what a Heart is, exactly. "I know they exist, anyway. Don''t know much more than that."


    "A Heart is essentially a planet''s Firmament core," Gheraa says. He leans back a bit and examines me. "Some call it the culmination of civilization on that planet, although that explanation is misleading at best. The Heart shapes the civilization, not the other way around. Every planet that has a Heart is guaranteed to eventually develop intelligent life."


    That''s close enough to what I''ve already guessed based on the name alone. I consider this information for a moment, then let out a breath. "That explains how you track down new planets to Integrate, yeah?" I ask. "You look for Firmament?"


    "Exactly." Gheraa nods. "Planetary Hearts are very noticeable. More importantly, though, the Interface recognizes them. When the Interface has direct access to a planet''s Heart, it can integrate that planet''s Firmament into itself, producing new skills and features."


    "That''s what the Trials are for," I say. "You''re connecting the Interface to Hearts and evolving the Interface in the process."


    Gheraa gives me a weak smile. "You''re a smart one," he says. "Yes. Connecting the Interface with a planetary Heart completes its associated Trial. Only problem is, we can''t do the Trials ourselves."


    "So you get the inhabitants of other planets to do it." I frown. "Why can''t you do it yourselves, exactly?"


    "Couldn''t tell you even if I wanted to," Gheraa says with a shrug. "We have more control over the Interface than most, but its functions are still opaque to us. Think of it as having administrative access¡ªactually, that might be the reason the Interface won''t let us participate in the Trials. We have too much control over it."


    "Maybe." I''m not entirely convinced by that explanation, but the Integrators not having perfect control over the Interface does explain why its features are laid out and presented so strangely. The progression of feature unlocks isn''t exactly logical, and I''m guessing that has a lot to do with the Integrators and the Interface not agreeing on what should be available. "Is there an ultimate goal of some kind? I assume you''re not just accumulating as many Interface skills and features as you can."


    "Some would say that''s a goal in and of itself," Gheraa says with a shrug. He studies me closely. "...But you''re right in that that''s not our primary goal. We''ve studied the flow of Firmament between Hearts for a long time. There''s a definite pattern leading toward the galactic center."


    "And you''re trying to get there?" I ask.


    "We can''t connect to a Heart if we haven''t connected with all the Hearts before it." Gheraa shrugs. "Don''t ask me why. Some of us think it''s like a pilgrimage¡ªwe have to get the Interface to connect with everything along the way to the center."


    "But you don''t know what''s actually there," I point out. "For all you know, it could be a trap."


    "You''re not the only one to bring that up," Gheraa says dryly. "That particular argument isn''t a popular one. Most Integrators believe we''re being led toward the center for a reason."


    "And you can''t just..." I shrug and gesture helplessly. "Can''t you just fly there? You''re an interplanetary species. There are Firmament skills that let us teleport. It''s not like you can''t just ignore the Hearts and find out what they''re connected to."


    "If only it were that easy." Gheraa sighs. "Even if that were possible there would be a lot of Integrators insistent on us doing it the ''right'' way¡ªbut it''s a moot point, because it''s not. Whatever''s held at the center is locked up by the Interface itself. The stronger we get while we''re linked up with the Interface and the more Hearts we link to, the stronger that shield gets. Getting through it isn''t really an option at this point."


    That information makes me frown and abandon my attempts to connect with my real body, at least for the moment. "Uh," I say. I try to figure out how to phrase my response.


    "What?" Gheraa glances at me. "You''re making a face like you''ve thought of something."


    "You just described a pretty efficient system that functions as a seal," I say. At this rate, I''m going to have to put the galactic core on the list of things I''ll eventually have to worry about. "Forget what I said about traps, this sounds like a system created to seal away something else."


    "The Interface itself is leading us toward the center," Gheraa points out. "If it''s trying to seal away what''s in the center, why lead us toward it?"


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    "Fair enough," I say, more because I don''t feel like arguing about it than because I''m conceding. I could see the Interface functioning as a sort of warning¡ªor maybe it''s just inevitable. Or it''s trying to help people grow strong enough to beat whatever''s sealed away.


    I close my eyes once again and go back to trying to connect with my real-world self. I think I can feel my body now. I''m lying on the ground. Ahkelios is standing on my chest, worried¡ªhe''s definitely grown larger, from what I''m sensing, which means he''s managed to successfully integrate with his Remnant. Bimar is pacing nearby, so she''s fine. I let out a sigh of relief.


    I can also feel the assault of Teluwat''s Firmament. The Interface seems to have taken over the job of Iron Mind, sealing away whatever his Firmament is trying to do to me. Reaching out to sense any more would... probably be a very, very bad idea, if it breaks the Mind Vault the Interface has put me in.


    On the other hand... it''s wearing itself out. The effect isn''t going to last forever.


    I might not have to end this loop immediately.


    "It''s a moot point anyway," I say, opening my eyes and re-focusing on the conversation. I maintain my connection to my real self in the back of my mind, but it''s an odd feeling. A little like being in two places at once. "I''m not exactly in a position to stop the Integrators right now. So to summarize: the point of the Trials are to connect to Hearts, which allows the Interface to create and grant new skills. Successful Trialgoers are the ones that manage to create the connection, which I assume is different from just finding the exit."


    "It takes time for the Interface to find out how to connect to each Heart, and we figured out early on that having some kind of alternate goal is necessary for the Trialgoer to proceed," Gheraa says. "The exit is mostly a red herring. It''s there, but going through it is considered a failure of the Trial."


    "Of course it is." I remember suspecting as much right from the beginning¡ªthough I would''ve preferred to be wrong about this one. "You mentioned that the newer skills from the Interface are different?"


    "Every Heart has some specific type of Firmament associated with it," Gheraa says. "A lot of the early ones were very basic¡ªFire, Earth, Water, Air, typical abstractions that emerge across a lot of civilizations. But the more recent ones are a lot more esoteric, and so are the skills we get from them. Control, Authority, Space, Temporal..."


    Gheraa glances at me as he says this, and I nod slightly to acknowledge it. "I''m the only one getting Temporal skills, I take it?"


    "For now," Gheraa says. "Once you complete the Trial, others will be able to get skills similar to yours."


    That''s... useful to know, actually. It means I should be able to leverage my skills to surprise the others. It also makes me think that completing the Trial will mean that I lose that advantage¡ªand more to the point, allowing everyone with the Interface access to skills that manipulate time sounds like a Very Bad Thing.


    Gheraa seems to guess at what I''m thinking, because he gives me a little smirk and speaks again. "You do have an exit," he says. "We can''t lie through the Interface. We can omit things or try to misdirect you, but if we tell you something''s there, it has to be there in some capacity."


    "I''ll keep that in mind," I say. I have too many things to do to worry about the exit, I think. Searching for a spatial hole that''s probably hidden somewhere within the ground sounds like a waste of my time. Maybe I can extend my Firmament sense enough to find it, or maybe there''s some way I can exit the temporal field around Hestia without ending my Trial.


    My goals have nothing to do with passing the Trial, anyway, so it doesn''t really matter¡ªbut speaking of which... "Will the Earth actually be destroyed if we don''t get at least ten passing Trialgoers?"


    "No," Gheraa says with a snort. "Destroying planets would be a waste of resources and power. We usually pretend that we''ve decided to be merciful and spare the planet, in exchange for the planet becoming a host for a Trial. We need to host a Trial on that planet anyway."


    "Right. I figured as much." It''s only a small relief¡ªHestia isn''t exactly in a good state right now, despite having ostensibly passed its Trials and becoming a fully Integrated planet. Even if Earth isn''t at risk of being destroyed, a Trial would probably kill millions. "That answers most of my questions, I think. How do I get to you?"


    Gheraa stares at me, uncertainty creeping into his features. "What do you mean?"


    "You want me to rescue you," I clarify. "How do I do that?"


    "Are you actually going to?" Gheraa''s brows are furrowed¡ªhe seems genuinely surprised. It makes me frown a bit. Have I given him any indication that I intended to do anything else? "We just talked about how the Integrators are essentially subjugating most life in the galaxy to empower a system we don''t even fully understand."


    "And you''re not a part of that," I say, cocking my head. "Or at least you don''t want to be anymore."


    "I was a part of it," he argues. "It''s not like everything I''ve done is magically erased just because I want to get away from the rest of them."


    "I never said it was," I say. I wonder why he''s protesting so much¡ªthere''s a vulnerability in his expression that''s usually masked by his constant enthusiasm and cheer. "Do you need to stay with them to keep manipulating the Trials and the Interface?"


    "N-no," Gheraa says. He takes a deep breath, and a bit of his confidence eases back into him as he speaks. "If anything, I should be able to do more if I''m not being constantly watched. They can''t really remove my access from your Trial at this point, or they would''ve done it already. They''d have to kill me. And I might be a lot of things, but I''m not easy to kill."


    "So I have no reason to leave you there," I say. "The other Integrators don''t treat you well, do they?"


    Gheraa winces. "This version of me doesn''t have all the memories the original does," he says. "But no. They don''t. I''d prefer not to talk about it."


    "Then I''m not leaving you there. No reason to complicate it any further. What you''ve done in the past is irrelevant. You''ve been helping me, and it''s come at a personal cost to you. I''m going to return the favor."


    Gheraa just stares at me. "Humans are so weird," he mutters. "We had to do a bit of research on you before we started the Integration. You guys are weird."


    "Thanks," I say dryly. I don''t ask him to elaborate. I''m sure I''ll find out eventually. "So. How do I get to you?"


    Gheraa takes a deep breath and begins to explain.


    I''m basically already halfway there, it turns out. The Phaseslip skill was one that he slipped into my Interface, and I''m thankful I picked it out¡ªit''s apparently one of the keys to accessing the Integrators'' domain. They live in a slightly out-of-phase pocket dimension that''s synced with every planet that the Interface is connected with. That allows them to work with Trialgoers and Trials with relative ease, and it allows them to step in if necessary, although according to Gheraa, it "has never been necessary". The Integrators do occasionally pay visits to their Integrated planets, but those visits are...


    Well, Gheraa seems reluctant to talk about what those visits entail. I can guess. It sounds like the Integrators at large are mostly disconnected from what the civilizations they manage are like. Gheraa might be the most human among them, and even then, it''s a recent development in his otherwise long life.


    I''m curious about what made him change, but I don''t ask. It doesn''t seem like the time, and it also seems... unfair, almost. It''s not like the main version of Gheraa is going to know what I''ve spoken about with his copy.


    The point is that the Phaseslip skill is one component. The other component is something Gheraa calls a "phasic key"; it''s apparently something like a constantly-changing code that''s required to sync up with the Integrators'' pocket dimension. It''s usually stored in an imbuement stone. Gheraa can''t give me one, but he''s suggested it might be possible to force the Interface to reward me with one through a complicated series of steps he calls "attribute alignment".


    I have a slightly better idea. Miktik''s mentioned an Integrator scrapyard that''s so dense with Firmament it requires protection just to enter. It''s full of Integrator technology¡ªand Integrator technology, by design, has to be able to sync with the dimension it exists in. I''ll have to go take a look when I get the chance, because attribute alignment is a very involved process that will likely take weeks of active manipulation of the Interface and dozens of weak skill choices.


    That and with what Gheraa''s revealed so far, I''m more interested in saving those credits for something else: Firmament skills that are unique to me.


    Temporal skills.


    "You said you wanted to train me before we end this session," I say, looking at Gheraa. He''s been talking for a while, and I''m noticing that the gold energy in his skin is beginning to look a little more pale¡ªI wonder if we have less time than he thought. "And something about learning the true nature of Firmament. I''m guessing this has something to do with phase-shifts."


    Gheraa gives me a tired smile. "Please stop being smart. I''d like to get to show off sometimes."


    I chuckle. "It''s not like I know anything about them besides what I just said," I say. "So hit me. I''m missing something big, aren''t I?"


    "You and everyone else besides the Integrators," Gheraa says quietly. He looks down at his hand, commanding a small string of golden Firmament to float above it, then coils it between his fingers contemplatively. "Mostly because we intentionally restrict it from any planet we Integrate."


    He pulls his fingers apart, stretching the golden thread between them¡ªthen he clenches his fist, and that golden thread shatters. "Congratulations," he says. "You''re about to learn the real secrets behind Firmament and phase-shifts."


    "...Drama queen," I say, hiding a smile. I can''t help myself.


    Gheraa glares at me. "Don''t ruin the moment."

 117 — Book 2, Chapter 54 — Phase Shifts and You, Part 1

    "You''ve noticed by now that Firmament is layered," Gheraa says. "Imbuement stones are even labeled that way by the Interface¡ªby its ''depth''. The deeper you sink into Firmament, the closer you get to its true nature."


    "Mysterious," I say, raising an eyebrow. "This have anything to do with what I sensed earlier?"


    Gheraa cocks his head, then leans in close to peer at me, his expression intrigued. "Depends, I suppose," he says. "What did you sense?"


    I shrug. "When I was trying to imbue a Hunger stone, there was a kind of reaction from the Void Inspiration. It gave me the sense that there was something underneath the Firmament. I can''t give it a name, exactly. It felt like intent. Or willpower."


    Gheraa goes silent for a long moment, staring at me contemplatively. "That''s... not what I was talking about, exactly," he says slowly. "But you''re not the first one to sense something like that. It''s never been verified. We can''t really reproduce the effect reliably, so all we have are stories."


    I frown. "Sounds like you guys haven''t fully figured out Firmament, either. Aren''t you made of the stuff?"


    Gheraa gives me a withering look. "Do you want to learn about Firmament or not?"


    "Carry on." I laugh.


    "What you sensed is most likely a deeper layer than the ones that are relevant for phase-shifting," Gheraa says. "The deeper you connect with your Firmament, the more you can utilize it. A phase-shift is an encapsulation of that process¡ªit allows you to access more of the energy contained within your Firmament, so you can do more with the same amount of it."


    That explains why my skills have been getting easier to use. "But there''s more to it than that, isn''t there?" I ask. "I mean, I had to fight during my phase-shift."


    "Yes." Gheraa considers me for a moment. "Think of each layer of Firmament as having a guardian that decides whether or not you''re worthy of connecting to it. It''s not a perfectly accurate metaphor¡ªthat''s Integrator doctrine¡ªbut it''s close enough. Every individual''s Firmament is unique, but a lot of the lower layers are... unformed. Raw with potential. When you connect to a layer, you define what that layer of your Firmament is. The fight is something between a test and a calibration process. You''re working to define a layer of your being."


    There was that moment during my phase-shift when I had to answer a question. I remember the feeling of it, the question that it felt like I was being asked.


    "For the first layer, you have to define who you are," Gheraa says. "You went through that, didn''t you?"


    "I sort of refused to answer, but yes," I say with a grimace. Gheraa tilts his head.


    "If you actually refused to answer, you wouldn''t have been able to complete your shift," he says. "But it does explain why the Interface detected abnormalities. You gave it an answer that didn''t fit?"


    "I said I was whatever I wanted to be," I say with a shrug. "I don''t like the idea of being boxed in by a label."


    "Ah." Gheraa places his hand on his chin. "That... is normally a second-layer answer. In the first layer, you define who you are now; in the second, you define who you want to be."


    "I''d answer that question differently." It surprises me how easily the answer comes to me¡ªit''s not something I''ve ever thought about before. But the answer''s pretty simple.


    I want to be stronger. Strong enough to be kind.


    I can''t be kind or merciful when I''m fighting for my life. Even with the loops in play, there''s a limit to what I can afford. Letting the assassins go free to get medical help would have cost me if they were to report to Whisper or Teluwat; even putting them into a cell was a questionable choice, though I had my reasons beyond just mercy.


    But as long as I''m strong enough, it doesn''t matter. And now I know I have an advantage that others don''t. Temporal skills are unique to me, and if I play my cards right, they''ll stay unique to me.


    What''s stronger than manipulating time?


    "You would, would you?" Gheraa''s gaze lingers on me for a long moment. Then he chuckles. "Yeah, that figures. You''re a bit of an abnormality all the way through."


    A slight pause. "I should apologize to you," he says suddenly.


    "...Why?" I ask. He says it with enough grim certainty that I almost involuntarily tense up, readying for a fight; Gheraa winces slightly when he sees my reaction, but he doesn''t move away.


    "Because it''s my fault you were chosen as a Trialgoer," he says. The words make a cold anger shoot through me briefly before I stamp down on it and wait to hear the rest of what he has to say. "The Interface profiles everyone that''s going to be chosen for the Trials. It wouldn''t have chosen you without a manual override."


    "...So much for random choice, huh?" I say. I don''t quite manage to keep the bitterness out of my voice, nor do I want to. "Why me?"


    "You were a risk," Gheraa says. "Too much independence. Not enough traits that are easily manipulated. Most Trialgoers we choose are people that we can manipulate into working for us, or they''re people who can work with us, even if they have their own goals."


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "I''m not that hard to manipulate," I snort. The anger is cooling a little¡ªmostly because it seems he''s chosen me specifically because he thinks I''ll be a hindrance to the Intergator''s plans. "I mean, I''ve been running around solving problems for other people."


    "Because you think they''re problems that need to be solved," Gheraa says. "But you don''t ignore the bigger picture, nor do you follow blindly. Also, frankly, it''s a lot easier to manipulate someone self-serving by bribing them than it is to set up some contrived scenario in which your kindness allows us to manipulate you."


    I pause. "Fair enough, actually."


    "I''m sorry," Gheraa says. "You wouldn''t be involved with the Trials at all if it weren''t for my intervention."


    "It could''ve been worse."


    Gheraa blinks at me. "What?"


    "It could''ve been worse," I repeat. "You picked a Trial I can''t possibly lose in unless I give up. You picked me for a reason I can respect. I''ve endured a lot of shit in these loops, but I''ve also met at least two people I would consider close friends. Three, if I count you, but honestly you''re still on probation." I smile at Gheraa as I say this¡ªit''s meant half as a joke¡ªbut the Integrator seems genuinely stunned at my words. He takes a step back, then falters a little, falling back into a makeshift seat he forms out of his Firmament.


    For a long time, neither of us say anything. And then Gheraa finds the words. "Thank you," he says. "I... wish the real me would hear that. Would you tell him?"


    "We''ll see," I say.


    The more I think about it, the less I''m willing to let this version of Gheraa just fade away. He''d said something earlier about how he''d been able to pack memories into this version of himself¡ªthat means, theoretically, that memories can be contained in Firmament.


    Maybe this version of Gheraa doesn''t have to die.


    "What did you have to teach me about Firmament?" I ask. "Besides the layer thing, I mean."


    "Oh, right," Gheraa says, blinking a few times as though he isn''t quite sure where he is. "What... I was talking about phase-shifts. First and second layer shifts. You''re quite close to the second-layer shift."


    "And there''s more to it than that, isn''t there?" I ask.


    "The first layer is Deepening," Gheraa says. "It''s exactly what it says¡ªit deepens your Firmament. Sets how it''s aligned and the aspects you''re most compatible with. You''ve already defied expectations there by aligning yourself with multiple strong aspects instead of one."


    I nod. I remember incorporating the Firmament from not only the crows but from the Interface itself into my shift¡ªthough I suspect Gheraa isn''t aware of that part of it.


    "The second layer is Consolidation," Gheraa continues. "Ahkelios was given the standard information packet on it, if you remember. He''ll be able to guide you through it when the time comes. As I said, you choose who you want to be¡ªand your Firmament will shape itself in a way that guides you toward that outcome."


    "That''s a little vague." I frown. "Is that why I have to give up skills for Consolidation?"


    "Yes and no." Gheraa glances away briefly. "The information packet contains some minor lies to keep Trialgoers... weak. That''s one of them. You don''t actually have to give up any skills. But the more you do, the stronger your remaining skills will be."


    "Sounds like a decent tradeoff to me," I say, although I can see how it might impact some Trialgoers differently, depending on the skills they''ve gained.


    "It can be," Gheraa agrees. "But I''ll give you a better way to¡ªnevermind. We''ll get to that.


    "Back on topic, Consolidation will impact the skills the Interface will give you." Gheraa taps his fingers on his knee, eyeing me carefully. "More than that, it means that your Firmament will begin to hold the properties you established in the first layer. When you first begin to manipulate Firmament, it''s all undifferentiated potential¡ªpowerful, yes, but also much harder to use. By the time you reach the second layer, your Firmament will begin to manifest properties directly associated with your first-layer attribute. Or attributes, in your case."


    "How many layers are there in total?" I ask warily.


    "Well, nine," Gheraa admitted. "But no one actually gets to the ninth layer. Most Integrators are at around the fifth or sixth layer. Trialgoers rarely progress beyond the third, and regular citizens, even the ones that can use Firmament, don''t usually move beyond the second."


    "Is there a way for me to figure out what layer someone''s at?"


    Gheraa studies me for a moment. "Not unless your ability to sense Firmament is a lot stronger than you''ve let on," he says. "Firmament layers aren''t something that''s easily sensed, usually. If you could sense those layers within someone, it would be fairly obvious¡ªuntouched layers are still raw and undifferentiated."


    I''ve only been able to sense the layers in imbuement stones and in my own Firmament so far. I haven''t tried to examine someone else''s Firmament to that degree, mostly because it takes some meditation for me to be able to access my Firmament sense that deeply. I nod in thought.


    "None of this is the big secret, is it?" I ask.


    "No," Gheraa says. "Although most people aren''t aware of the details of Firmament layers or phase-shifts. The big secret is that normally, progression between layers is difficult. You''ve noticed it yourself, right? Even your crow friends don''t know exactly how to deepen their Firmament. They know it has something to do with crafting things, but they believe it''s different for everyone."


    "Isn''t it?"


    "It is and it isn''t," Gheraa says with a shrug. "It''s true that natural Firmament growth differs for every individual, for every species, and for every planet. There are degrees of differences in all three categories. But there are universal ways to push your connection with your Firmament forward."


    I make a connection. "And one of those is the Interface."


    "Correct," Gheraa says. He leans back and stares at me intently. "All growth within the Interface pushes you toward your next phase-shift. Every time you bank credits for a skill, for example. Or every time it offers you a reward or an achievement for something you''ve done. But growth within the Interface is slow¡ªto the point where it can take decades to move down a single layer."


    "I don''t have decades," I say. "But you wouldn''t be telling me this if you didn''t have other ways to grow."


    "Quite," Gheraa agrees, giving me a smile that''s a little too smug for the situation we''re in. I can see that it strains him. He gestures to the void around us again, and then more specifically toward a thread of Firmament I''m just starting to be able to sense. "Your little... assistant. His name''s Ahkelios, right?"


    "He''s my friend," I say, my voice a little colder than I intend. Gheraa winces a bit, realizing his misstep, and swiftly adjusts.


    "Your friend," he corrects himself. "He''s been absorbing Remnants."


    "He''s been absorbing the monsters the Interface has been spawning, yes," I say. "The ones that resonate with him. What''s the deal with that, anyway? Why are some of these monsters so obviously based on him?"

 118 — Book 2, Chapter 55 — Phase Shifts and You, Part 2

    "It''s just something the Interface does," Gheraa says, grimacing. "I don''t have a good answer for you there. We think it has something to do with how the Interface draws from past Trialgoers as a template for new features or implementations¡ªin the same way, it probably draws on people connected with it to create Remnants. Or monsters, if you will."


    I think for a moment. "But that''s not true for all monsters, right?" I say. "Like the monsters in the Fracture."


    The ones Guard helped to kill. I remember him fighting with us, and I''m beginning to wonder if there was anything I missed in that fight. Was there any point in which he''d tried to communicate his situation to me? Would I have noticed? There were those flashes of not-purple within his Firmament, the moments in which prismatic power shone through the lavender fog swirling in his chest. Now that I know the situation he''s in, I''m guessing those were glimpses of his true Firmament shining through Whisper''s.


    My fists tighten. I should have realized what that meant sooner.


    "Not all monsters are Remnants, but all Remnants are monsters," Gheraa agrees, unaware of my thoughts. "The Interface labels and assigns a difficulty rating to anything you fight, be it creature, Remnant, or person. That difficulty rating is applied as a modifier to the credits you earn. But that''s the slower method of growth. The faster one is to do what your friend is doing¡ªto take their Firmament and make it your own.


    "But even there, there are downsides." Gheraa draws his cloak around himself and rests his chin in his hands, staring at me. "For one thing, anyone you do that to you would permanently remove from the loop¡ªkill, in other words. For another, it''s not that easy to control someone else''s Firmament. Ahkelios can do it because his Remnants are based on him; all he has to do is remind that Firmament that it belongs to him. Absorbing someone else''s Firmament is a different story altogether. I know of Integrators that have permanently mutated and changed because they attempted this process."


    "That doesn''t sound like an option, then," I say. Anything like that will carry over between loops¡ªI''m not going to be able to reverse time to escape the consequences of my own actions. I do, however, mentally file away the possibility of permanently removing people from the loop. It''s not something I''d do under most circumstances, but...


    The Hestian Trialgoers are a different story. If I let them reset, they''re going to find new ways to come after me, and they''ll know my tricks. I''m not going to try to absorb them, but that doesn''t mean I can''t find a way to permanently damage their Firmament in some way.


    It occurs to me that that thought is cold. Colder than I''m used to. Colder than I''d want to get used to.


    And yet the harm that Whisper''s done¡ªthe disregard that she''s shown for others, not to mention everything I''ve heard about Naru, about Teluwat...


    "You have a third method?" I ask, trying to hide the nature of my thoughts. Gheraa stares at me for a long moment but chooses not to ask, for which I''m grateful.


    "It''s related to the second," Gheraa says. "Absorbing the Firmament of any living thing is difficult and dangerous. But there''s plenty of Firmament around you all the time, and most of it doesn''t belong to anyone. Ambient Firmament of all types."


    I blink and stare at Gheraa for a moment. "...You want me to just absorb the Firmament that''s floating around in the air?" I ask. "First of all, I refuse to believe that no one except the Integrators has tried this."


    "You haven''t tried it," Gheraa points out, amused.


    "I''ve been kind of busy!"


    "Well," he says. "You''re not wrong. People have tried it, and they still do. Just because the Firmament doesn''t belong to anyone doesn''t mean it''s not still dangerous. Drawing in Firmament from your surroundings is known to cause all kinds of physical symptoms, including but not limited to having your organs turn into the elemental Firmament you''re trying to absorb."


    "What."


    "Someone''s liver turned into fire once," Gheraa explains, a little too casually for my taste.


    "Was it... your liver?"


    "I don''t have a liver."


    "Great." I add a note to my mental file about Gheraa to be a little cautious about my organs around him, since he doesn''t seem to place much value in them. Maybe because he doesn''t have any. "I assume you have a way to avoid that."


    Gheraa looks at me thoughtfully. "I do," he says. "You have an advantage a lot of others don''t."


    "The Interface?" I ask.


    "Me!" he says, injecting too much cheer into his voice again. "And also the Interface, yes. You''d have to be willing to sacrifice a skill or two, though. Or more."


    I frown in thought. That''s not entirely out of the question¡ªsome of my skills operate pretty well together, but I have a few that are pretty redundant at this point. I might still use Triplestep, but it''s technically objectively worse than Firestep and Accelerate. The only reason I still use it is because it''s less of a strain on my Firmament and because it stacks with the others to a degree, but the speed advantage it provides as my ability with Firmament grows is starting to become negligible.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    "How do you think skills work, Ethan?" Gheraa asks, drawing my attention again.


    A test. The realization is more instinct than anything; he''s looking at me like he wants a specific answer. I roll the question around in my head, considering.


    "I assumed the Interface processes my Firmament and converts it into whatever effect the skill is supposed to have," I say slowly. "But that''s not quite right, is it?"


    Because I can feel the skills as they grow inside me. It''s like how the Void Inspiration has a presence within me¡ªmy skills do, too, though they''re a lot more subtle. They''re most apparent when I''m using the All-Seeing Eye to combine them. The Interface plants something like a seed within me that converts my Firmament into that of the skill''s. Using the skill itself is then a matter of application; the Interface deals with the minutiae, and I decide on the target and power.


    It''s... actually not at all unlike the Firmament sink I''ve been working on. Come to think of it...


    "That''s why I can imbue things with skills," I mutter to myself. "I place a copy of the seed in it?"


    "Close!" Gheraa says brightly. He seems proud of me, for some reason. "Technically, most Interface skills are self-sufficient and fractal in nature; you can take any piece of their Firmament and regenerate the skill from it. But uh, you probably shouldn''t try that, because most skills are incredibly dangerous if they''re not regulated by the Interface."


    I carefully avoid Gheraa''s gaze. I''m definitely going to try it.


    "...You''re going to try it, aren''t you," Gheraa says, resigned.


    "You were saying something about absorbing Firmament?" I prompt, changing the subject. Gheraa sighs.


    "You can destroy a skill and turn it into something to process ambient Firmament for you," he says. "The higher rank the skill, the better it gets at doing that. You''ll still have to manually feed Firmament into the skill to make any real progress, but it speeds things up even if you don''t. And those Firmament-conversion structures are essentially perfect for this process."


    "And most Trialgoers don''t do this, I take it. Even if they''re told they can?"


    "It''s not exactly common knowledge, although a few people have figured it out. And I can''t deny that we''ve... experimented." Gheraa seems hesitant to admit this. "But even most Trialgoers are reluctant to give up their skills."


    "Skills are useful, but a phase-shift is even more so, if I understand them correctly."


    "You''ll be as strong as Naru with Tough Body alone if you manage to reach your third layer," Gheraa says. "He''s a second-layer Trialgoer. Still stronger than you are, but you''re catching up. Which he won''t like. I''ve been trying to keep him away from you."


    "Thanks," I say. I mean it, too. Any kind of involvement with Naru is something I''d prefer to avoid, not because I''m afraid of him but because I''m pretty sure I''d end up trying to fight him. That''s a mess that I don''t have time for at the moment.


    Though I''m not entirely opposed to using a loop to mess with him if I do somehow find myself with the time...


    I shake myself free from those thoughts. "How would I do this, exactly?" I ask. "Convert a skill into something for absorbing Firmament."


    The Integrator regards me for a moment. "You can sense your Firmament now, can''t you?" he asks. "You''ve reconnected with yourself."


    "...Yes." There''s nothing really happening, as far as I can tell. I''m still lying unconscious on the ground and Ahkelios is still sitting on my chest; Bimar seems to have found a seat nearby and is drumming her wings on it anxiously.


    Teluwat''s assault has lessened greatly. The Mind Vault probably won''t be necessary for much longer.


    "Then I want you to sense what I''m doing. Keep in mind I can only show you this once, because it will expend the rest of the Firmament I planted within you," Gheraa warns. "I''m guessing you don''t want me to forcibly end your loop."


    "No." Teluwat''s Firmament is manageable, at this point, and I think Gheraa can sense the same thing. He studies me for a moment, then shakes his head.


    "Be careful," he says. His voice is suddenly soft. Sincere, even. It''s so uncharacteristic of him it makes me blink, but the expression he wears with it vanishes so quickly it feels like it was just my imagination. "And watch closely."


    I feel Gheraa''s Firmament surge. I see something manifest in front of him¡ªFirmament of a type I haven''t seen before, a brilliant blue-gold marble that''s so dense with power that it warps the void around it. I can almost feel the Interface straining to contain the power that Gheraa''s suddenly manifested.


    At the same time, though, the golden lines in the Integrator''s skin fade to white, and the deep blue begins to dull into an empty gray. Gheraa''s eyes narrow in concentration, the entirety of his being focused on the marble in front of him; I focus all my senses on it as well, realizing I can''t afford to miss a moment of this.


    A barrage of sensations follows.


    A sharp spike of Firmament. An inversion. The sense of something breaking, complete and irreversible. Power waxes and wanes, the blue fades...


    ...and then it sprouts.


    Gheraa''s panting. His entire body sways, and I reach forward to catch him just before he collapses onto the ground. This close to him, I can feel how much he''s shaking¡ªpart of it from effort, I''m sure, but part of it from... fear?


    I try to lift him to his feet, but he''s light. Impossibly light, and getting lighter by the second.


    The marble in front of him has changed. There''s a small seedling sprouting out of it, and I can sense the way it''s drawing in Firmament the same way a plant might draw in carbon dioxide¡ªconverting it into something pure, something I can almost instinctively sense I can use. It''s real. I can sense it settling into me. This wasn''t just a demonstration, this was...


    "...That wasn''t a skill, was it?" I ask him quietly. He laughs, the sound weak, and shakes his head.


    "No," he says. There''s a faint smile on his face¡ªa small sense of pride in being able to trick me, I suppose. "It wasn''t. Use it well, Ethan."


    "I will." I don''t know what to say. Maybe this isn''t the real Gheraa, but he''s still essentially just... given up his existence. To give me a head start. "...Thank you."


    "Say that to the real me when you meet him," Gheraa says. He manages a final grin.


    And just like that, he''s gone.

 119 — Book 2, Chapter 56 — The Present, Part 1

    Tarin struggled. Light-purple bands of Firmament strung themselves around his wings, and every movement caused them to burn through his feathers and into the bone and muscle beneath. He could break through them if he could just reinforce himself, but...


    Firmament suppression. He hated the tactic. It was cowardly. It was un-crowlike! Whatever Whisper had done, she had locked down his ability to manipulate his own Firmament, and Tarin hated it. He didn''t even know why she''d chosen this approach. She had the ability to force people to do whatever she wanted with that weird Interface skill she used! What was the point in locking him down like this?


    For that matter, he didn''t know why she''d wanted to speak to him personally. He still gave her his best crow-glare, though. Even if he couldn''t see very well.


    "I''m over here," Whisper said, her voice holding a touch of condescending amusement. Tarin adjusted his glare a few feet to the left, away from the remarkably similar silhouette of the nearby lamp.


    "You suppress Firmament!" he squawked. "I not see."


    Whisper looked curious, or so he imagined. He couldn''t exactly make out whatever expression she was wearing on her pendant. "You''re nearsighted?"


    Tarin scoffed. "I see near things better," he said.


    "...I suppose that is a refreshingly optimistic take on nearsightedness." She-Who-Whispers stepped away and back toward the glowing table. Her hands were folded behind her back, Tarin could see that much, but he thought he could see her wringing her fingers together. Was he seeing that right?


    ...eh. No point trying to make out what his eyes refused to see. He focused back on the Firmament sense he''d been trying to develop¡ªnow was as good a time as any to try to observe his surroundings through it.


    Ethan''s Firmament sense came about from an imbalance in the upper layers of his Firmament. No doubt in the first couple of loops, that imbalance had prevented him from properly controlling his Firmament. Now, though, that imbalance had been solidified as part of the young Trialgoer''s first phase-shift; he''d effectively embraced it as a part of himself, that he was many different things.


    Cheater. Tarin scoffed, but couldn''t help the slight smirk that entered his expression at the thought. It was better than Whisper''s cheating. It was the clever sort of cheating, the sort he could get behind.


    Not that he''d let Ethan stay ahead of him!


    There was something about the loops that affected his Firmament. He didn''t know what it was, but he''d been carefully nudging it ever since he noticed. The more he did, the more it destabilized his Firmament¡ªnot so much that he couldn''t control it, but enough for him to be able to begin to sense Firmament with the same detail that Ethan did.


    Really, Ethan was bound to soar ahead of him. All Trialgoers were. The sheer resources they had access to through the Interface alone, nevermind the skills and the way it pushed their Firmament into alignment¡ªthose with full access to the Interface had an insurmountable advantage.


    But he had to try to keep up. If he could keep up, if he could stay ahead and lend Ethan a guiding wing, maybe... well, maybe he could prevent another Naru from happening.


    Tarin was no stranger to the secondary effect of the Trials. To the way they were designed to exacerbate a person''s worst traits in an effort to more easily control them. It was selective, of course¡ªnothing that made a person difficult to control would typically be encouraged¡ªbut it was, for the most part, effective.


    It was what had happened to Naru.


    The thought of what his son had become sent another echo of anger through his heart. Tarin ignored it, pushing it aside as he often did; more important now was the situation he was in and the Firmament sense he was trying to develop. He could, in a very vague, fuzzy sort of way, sense a humanoid-shaped lump of Firmament on the table Whisper was standing next to.


    He-Who-Guards. Tarin remembered the layout of the room from the last time he''d been here, though he didn''t know why Whisper had chosen to take him here, exactly. What alarmed him was the fact that the state of the Firmament on the table had very clearly deteriorated.


    Guard was still alive, but only barely.


    Whisper slowly reached out with her Firmament in an act Tarin recognized as an attempt to support him with her own strength. Her Firmament began to dig into Guard''s, trying to provide a structure he could subsist on.


    The moment He-Who-Guards sensed it, he fought. Tarin could feel the prismatic Firmament spasming and diminishing itself in an attempt to get away from her.


    "Stop!" he squawked without thinking. "Why you do this? He fight you!"


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    "He will die if I do not assist him," She-Who-Whispers hissed at him. "What do you expect me to do? Watch? He-Who-Guards is not allowed to die!"


    "You make him die faster!" Tarin retorted¡ª


    Pain.


    Tarin smelled burnt flesh and feathers. It took him a moment to even realize what had happened. The ragged, desperate breathing was his own; the burnt feathers came from the purple Firmament wrapped tightly around his wings. She-Who-Whispers had a hand held out to him, and the aura he sensed from her was... dangerous.


    He''d pissed her off, then. He would have laughed if his throat wasn''t sore from the screech of pain she''d torn out of it. Was she a child? Even his most stubborn pupil had withstood more criticism than this before snapping.


    "You will not tell me how to keep my own partner alive." She-Who-Whispers''s voice was low. Icy.


    "I not talk, he die," Tarin answered simply.


    He-Who-Guards''s Firmament was that close to self-destruction¡ªand if Whisper''s silence was any indication, then she knew it, too. Tarin was starting to understand one of the reasons she might have decided to bring him to this room in particular. She might think that he had something to do with Guard''s state.


    Or she might want help, and she was simply too proud to admit it.


    "I talk to him," Tarin said. "You let me close."


    "What could you possibly say to him?" There was an edge in Whisper''s voice. Tarin ignored it. He dragged himself over to the table, noting with some satisfaction that the ropes of Firmament binding him didn''t resist his attempt to move.


    Connecting to another person via Firmament was difficult at the best of times. Tarin could only barely do it with Mari¡ª


    ...He missed Mari. The thought struck him suddenly. He took a deep breath.


    No time to think about that now.


    Connecting to another person via their Firmament was difficult, and he could only barely do it even with someone like Mari¡ªbut this was a special scenario. He-Who-Guards was all but stripped of every layer that would have proven a hindrance to such a connection, and Tarin had been studying how Ethan''s connection with Ahkelios worked.


    He was relatively certain he could do this.


    "You not suppress my Firmament," he requested. After a moment, he felt the suppression lift, though the ropes remained to bind his wings. He could have chosen this moment to attack, but he didn''t stand a chance against Whisper, and besides...


    Ethan wanted to help Guard.


    "What are you doing?" Whisper asked.


    "You quiet," Tarin said. He could feel her bristle in response. There was a sharp spike of Firmament that threatened to debilitate him once again¡ªbut almost as soon as it started, it stopped. He was too close to Guard now; any attempt to hurt him had a good chance of hurting the very fragile state the ruined silverwisp was in.


    Now he just needed to find a way to speak with Guard privately, and for that... he had an idea.


    Firmament manipulation wasn''t as simple for him as it was for Ethan. What came naturally to him was reinforcement¡ªmoving his Firmament within his own body. External manipulation of Firmament was for other species; it never really came naturally to crows.


    It wasn''t impossible. It was just very, very difficult. Crow Firmament was very tightly bound to them, with the sole exception being when they were performing an imbuement. That was how they were able to gift Firmament to one another, usually to the one chosen to be the next village leaders. The process was... very much like imbuement, actually.


    That was the process he tried now. Tarin gathered his Firmament, brushed his wings against Guard''s core, and attempted an imbuement. A gift of Firmament¡ªnot forced, not insistent. An offering.


    All he had to do now was wait. He''d learned a few things from observing the bond between Ethan and Ahkelios.


    <hr>


    He-Who-Guards... hesitated.


    His core was unstable. He knew this¡ªcould feel his life slipping away every time he fought off Whisper''s control. A part of him wasn''t even sure why he bothered to cling to life at all; he''d long ago accepted his death, after all. It was She-Who-Whispers that couldn''t accept it.


    He could have let go. He didn''t know how much time had passed, but he did know that he could have chosen to simply let go at any point. He could have allowed his remaining Firmament to disperse into nothingness...


    Ah, but of course, Whisper would stop him. That was what the machines around him were for. Everything here was designed to lock him down, prevent his Firmament from leaving the table, let alone the room.


    He-Who-Guards was still aware that part of him was still clinging to life. He wondered if he''d developed that will to live somewhere along the way.


    Which left him with this choice: the question of what to do with that strange, foreign Firmament he suddenly found offering itself to him. Instinct told him to reject it and fight it as he did with every other attempt to interact with him, but something stopped him.


    What was this Firmament, anyway?


    It wasn''t Whisper, he could tell that much. It wasn''t even anyone he could see Whisper intentionally associating herself with. It didn''t feel like a doctor or a healer, anyone that might be able to help him cure this malady. An intruder, maybe? But Whisper was right there. She would have stopped the stranger if she didn''t want him around. He-Who-Guards was under no illusions as to how much power she wielded these days.


    And yet... it didn''t feel like this stranger was on Whisper''s side. It felt like he was a friend.


    Why?


    He had no real reason to feel that way. He could tell that something had happened in the room, but his senses and his thoughts were far too dull by now to parse the nature of those events. By all accounts, the stranger should be someone hired by Whisper to once again subvert and subdue him.


    ...But the Firmament was being offered to him. There was no sign that he was being coerced, no sign that it was trying to take him over. And the nature of the Firmament itself felt strange¡ªlike lightning and earth bound together, packed with power but somehow still grounded.


    Tentatively, fearfully, He-Who-Guards accepted the Firmament, and waited for the worst to happen.

 120 — Book 2, Chapter 57 — The Present, Part 2

    He-Who-Wanders was not suited for diplomacy.


    In all fairness, very few of those he considered to be the core rebels were actually suited for diplomacy. Bimar was more likely to start a fight than not; Thys and Thaht were too excitable and too impatient respectively; Miktik was an utterly terrible liar; Vahrkos...


    Well, Vahrkos was probably the most suited amongst them for diplomacy, now that He-Who-Wanders thought about it. But he was also the most combat-ready of them. The kobold brothers couldn''t bring their gear anywhere near the military base, so sending them there to try to extract information from the general was suicide at best. Vahrkos had the best odds of surviving that encounter long enough to bring them information about Whisper''s plans.


    He-Who-Wanders hoped that the Trialgoer was telling the truth about his loops. It all seemed a little unbelievable, but the proof had been nearly undeniable.


    Though even if he had been lying, what choice did they have? To go against a Trialgoer directly... their little rebellion in the midst of Isthanok was all they could do, and even then¡ªeven as secretive and minimal as their actions were¡ªthey''d suffered losses. His sister, for one.


    Vahrkos had been the only one there for him when she was killed. She was a bright spark for their group, and all of them lost something the day she died. The others had been too busy with their own grief, and though he understood, it still hurt.


    Bimar lashed out at anyone that came near. Miktik spoke to no one and nothing¡ªshe spent all her time with the AI core she''d been developing instead, whispering to it when she thought no one was looking. Thys and Thaht worked harder than ever on their inventions, coming up with new weapons that nearly won them the Arena championship.


    And then there was him. He-Who-Wanders. A silverwisp just like She-Who-Whispers. He''d always felt a little bit like an outcast because of the fact. It was no secret that Isthanok as a whole tended to treat silverwisps a little better than all the other species; he had advantages the others didn''t. It didn''t mean things were easy for him, but it did mean he didn''t completely understand what they faced.


    The way others looked down on crows like Bimar for their more simplistic style of speech. The way Miktik was sometimes seen as a pest. The way Thys and Thaht were thought of as amusing entertainment. The way Vahrkos was seen as nothing but a soldier.


    Vahrkos, He-Who-Wanders knew, was the farthest thing from a soldier he could imagine. The morphling was certainly capable of fighting. He was terrifyingly effective, if anything. But he didn''t enjoy the act¡ªrefused to participate in it, outside of circumstances that made it necessary. He''d been with his sister when she died, and he''d gotten gravely injured in his attempt to save her.


    It was a miracle that he''d survived that encounter with He-Who-Guards at all, really. Or, technically, She-Who-Whispers, controlling He-Who-Guards as though he were a puppet. The thought of it continued to make him feel sick to his nonexistent stomach.


    She-Who-Sings. Her name still made his form flicker with grief, the ethereal wisp that made up his head flickering for a moment like a candle flame.


    Vahrkos had been the only one to seek him out in the time when he was grieving her death. The morphling was still gravely injured, and try as he might, He-Who-Wanders couldn''t quite bring himself to visit him. He spent his days wandering the garden outside the morphling''s home instead, tending to the flowers, watering the plants.


    He still remembered the first time Vahrkos managed to find him.


    "I''m sorry." The morphling''s voice was still weak, and despite himself, He-Who-Wanders spun toward him with a flare of white-hot rage that burned down just as quickly into an aching grief. Vahrkos stood before him, steadying himself on a crutch and looking at him with eyes so sad He-Who-Wanders didn''t know what to do with them.


    "It''s not your fault." The words were meant to be kind, but He-Who-Wanders found that he spoke with a harsh, bitter texture that he didn''t intend. The idea that Vahrkos blamed himself enraged him. The morphling had gotten so badly hurt already, and he knew without a doubt that his sister wouldn''t want Vahrkos to blame himself...


    There was a difference in culture to blame there, too. To blame yourself for another''s death was to disrespect their sacrifice. Music was his sister''s first love, but she was no slouch in battle; he had no doubt she''d made sure that Vahrkos could return alive.


    They were both silent for a long moment.


    "I did not know her well," Vahrkos said, breaking the silence. "Will you tell me about her?"


    "...Of course."


    He-Who-Wanders hadn''t known at the time how much it would help to just walk along the garden with Vahrkos, regaling him with tales of his sister during their childhood. Of the music she loved the most, and how she''d gotten involved with the rebellion to begin with¡ªher favorite kinds of music were loud and rambunctious, and very much did not fit in with what She-Who-Whispers considered ''perfect'' for her city.


    In return, Vahrkos listened. And who could have known how much he''d needed someone to listen to him back then? He certainly hadn''t known. He hadn''t realized it until he found himself in Vahkros''s arms, the morphling humming a strange tune to him as he cried.


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    "They look like stars," Vahrkos said.


    "...What do you mean?"


    "Your tears. When your kind cries, your tears do not fall; they float into the sky, glowing with Firmament. They look like stars." Vahrkos caught one with a hand, letting the ethereal dust linger on his finger. "...I hope you don''t mind my saying so, but it is beautiful. It is like your grief itself is reminding those around you of the beauty of what was lost."


    "...I''ve always been ashamed of my tears."


    "You shouldn''t be."


    And just like that, Vahrkos returned to his humming, and He-Who-Wanders listened.


    Now that he thought about it, he''d never asked about that song. He-Who-Wanders hoped he would get the chance to ask, now that he knew he wanted to. He really wasn''t suited for diplomacy.


    "Any last words?" the guard asked him grimly. He-Who-Wanders sighed. Stupid, stupid paranoid merchants and their equally paranoid guards; all he''d done was ask to see the merchandise in the back, and now he had a spear pointed at his head.


    "I''m here on She-Who-Whispers''s behalf," He-Who-Wanders said. "You know what will happen if you try to kill me."


    The guard hesitated.


    Whisper could hear almost anything that happened anywhere in the city; invoking her name made it a near certainty that she would find you. But it also meant that it was well-known in the city that anyone who dared evoke her name were her direct agents. The guard knew that as well as he did.


    He-Who-Wanders held his breath.


    Please let this work.


    <hr>


    Vahrkos was rather surprised to find himself being led quietly into the base rather than openly attacked¡ªespecially given that he''d done little to disguise the hositlity he felt toward each and every one of them. These were people who, in one way or another, supported She-Who-Whispers and her regime. No one was inducted into the Isthanok military without first proving that they were loyal even without Whisper''s orders hanging over them.


    Perhaps his demeanor was calmer than he''d intended? People who could read morphling body language were few and far between; too many of his kind were treated as weapons of war. Slaves, in effect, though the word seemed too distasteful for many to use.


    So many excuses. Morphlings were too dangerous without their control suits, the politicians would claim. Too volatile. Too difficult to find and keep track of, with their different forms and their ability to find slipstreams in the Firmament.


    Like pests. Like an infestation.


    He-Who-Wanders was one of very few individuals that had never looked at him with fear.


    "We''ve made a lot of progress with the Craven Arena, sir," the soldier beside him said cheerfully. Vahrkos tilted his head slightly so he could stare down at the smaller silverwisp. The soldier straightened his back under the weight of his gaze and spoke with undeniable pride. "Almost all Arena attendants now use the rewards we provide, and all tests with the infected rewards now work as expected."


    Vahrkos was careful not to allow his expression to change.


    This... was a case of mistaken identity. That wasn''t too unusual¡ªthere weren''t very many free morphlings around, and other species were notoriously bad at telling morphlings apart; they distinguished one another more through pheromones than by physical appearance. Why the general of the base didn''t have more security in place to prevent this, he had no idea, but it was working out to his advantage.


    "List the test results," Vahrkos said, keeping his voice as impassive as possible. This was the sort of information he was here for. He never would''ve guessed just walking in would work, or he would''ve done it a long time ago.


    "Uh, well," the silverwisp stumbled a little. "She-Who-Whispers can listen in through the treated items as expected, even through Firmament barriers and the normal imbuements that would otherwise keep her out. Her Whispers can reach through them as well, although they''re still only about eighty percent as effective."


    "Only eighty?" Vahrkos made his voice sharp, and the silverwisp flinched.


    "I-it''s up from seventy, sir!" he said hurriedly. "We''re pretty sure we can get it to around ninety, but any more and it''s going to affect the clarity of the audio feedback to She-Who-Whispers. Besides, the other functions work almost perfectly, so we won''t need her to act personally most of the time! Sir."


    "I see," Vahrkos said coolly. "Define almost."


    Talk as little as possible. Get the other party to make all the assumptions. Vahrkos had never been officially trained in this sort of thing, but it seemed simple enough¡ªthis silverwisp was afraid, and as long as he thought Vahrkos was angry, he would keep talking.


    "Uh¡ª" A nervous flicker of Firmament. "Basic punish and capture functionalities are at full capacity and can be remotely activated. The void suit deployment is¡ªit''s almost there, sir, I swear."


    Something snapped. Vahrkos wasn''t sure what it was until he glanced down; he''d gripped the badge he''d been given too hard, and the metal had broken into fragments. He stared at the crushed badge in his hand, then at the skittering fragments of purple Firmament that escaped and cascaded over his chitin.


    The silverwisp beside him froze. "You''re not the general," he said.


    Vahrkos stared at the silverwisp. The young soldier looked back up at him, clutching at the clipboard in his hands, almost like he was hoping he''d be told he was wrong. How exactly had he been figured out? Something to do with the badge, no doubt. Something about the Firmament inside it?


    He''d kept it contained out of pure instinct as soon as he''d been handed the badge. Allowing foreign Firmament to interact with him was how he''d initially been trapped by a void suit, a long time ago; he would never make that mistake again.


    It seemed the general did have a security system of sorts in place.


    "No," Vahrkos said. "I''m not. That badge was supposed to react to anyone that wasn''t the general, I take it?"


    The silverwisp narrowed his eyes. "I don''t know how you got around it," he said, pulling a weapon out of his belt. Not only that, but Vahrkos felt a pulse in the slipstreams that surrounded them¡ªsome sort of signal to the base, no doubt. It felt like the whole place was suddenly coming to life with Firmament. "But you''re not getting out."


    A confirmation, then. Good information to have. Information he''d have to make sure to bring back to the others, or else this whole trip would be for naught.


    "We will see about that," he said plainly.

 121 — Book 2, Chapter 58 — Change of Plans

    Fear, Gheraa had to admit, was an entirely new sensation for him.


    He wasn''t sure he liked it. It made his Firmament flicker with silver. Silver! It was gaudy at best, really, and it made it very, very difficult for him to properly use his skills.


    Like the one he was currently using to hide.


    Granted, a big part of that was because he had to control the skill manually, and that was something he hadn''t done since... what, his third layer ceremony? He hadn''t needed to once the Interface had properly integrated into his being; it sensed everything he needed to do and did it for him.


    He probably should have planned ahead for this particular eventuality.


    "Should''ve known, should''ve known," he muttered to himself. It made holding Perfect Concealment harder, but keeping quiet was even more stressful. He''d never had to keep quiet. "Should''ve realized they could lock me out before I started rebelling. They do it to Trialgoers that go rogue after their Trials, why not you? You don''t have the protection of a Trial. Come on, Gheraa, you knew better."


    ...That hadn''t helped as much as he hoped, the whole talking out loud thing. He ducked behind a door as another wave of Revelation Firmament washed down it; that thing would unveil him as soon as it touched him, and he couldn''t afford that.


    They knew what he was doing now. His little trick with the Inspiration had been discovered. Gheraa had, if nothing else, taken a small measure of satisfaction in the look of utter rage on his dear supervisor''s face; the man had been far too stupid and far too easy to trick.


    It was probably a good thing he''d ducked away instead of letting himself get smacked around this time. It wasn''t like what he''d done was a redeemable offense.


    But if he asked himself if he regretted it...


    Heh. Not really. Ethan had been terribly amusing to watch, and what had begun as raw impulse and frustration had turned into a genuine desire to see the Trialgoer succeed. The man was anomalous in all the right ways. Grinding the stump of his arm into the ground to keep himself conscious? Absurd. He was pretty sure doing that would''ve made most other humans just black out. And then there was the ridiculous impulse to help everyone he came across¡ªit was like Ethan just couldn''t help himself.


    He''d seen hundreds of other Trialgoers try their hand with this Trial, and every single one of them had just given up on others. What was the point in trying to fix things that would just reset in the next loop? And here was Ethan, finding ways to keep things going through the loops, getting himself involved with rebellions, of all things!


    He couldn''t just let Ethan fail after all that. He had to warn him.


    Gheraa was under no illusions as to his odds of survival. Now that he''d been discovered, it was matter of time before the rest of the Integrators found him and either executed him or Reintegrated him; either one was essentially a death, though the latter was a more terrifying thought. To have all his personality and memory stripped out of him? He''d rather die. It was a violation of the highest order.


    He very much wanted to run, in other words. Not that he had much of a chance if he ran, but right now, he was sort of... running in the opposite direction. Lowering his odds even more.


    "You''re a bad influence, Ethan," Gheraa muttered to himself. Fear fluttered within him¡ªbut so did excitement. A grin he didn''t understand stole across his face. "You better appreciate this. I''m gonna be mad if you make me die for nothing."


    Not that he''d let himself die that easily. Maybe Ethan would figure out his little gift and find him before he was killed? He didn''t think it was very likely, but he could hope! Wasn''t that what Ethan did all the time anyway?


    Control room ahead.


    His Interface had been locked. He couldn''t warn Ethan through it. Which meant there was really only one way he''d be able to contact his Trialgoer, and that was through the master Interface controls.


    Terrible name for a room built out of dead Integrators and their Interface connections, but whatever. And maybe he could sneak in a little gift, too? Something to help him through the storm that was coming.


    Gheraa burst into the control room. Part of him was worried he''d be discovered immediately, but... there was no one here. Strange. Maybe they''d all assumed he would run and gone searching for him elsewhere.


    Come to think of it, many Integrators did think he was a coward. But to leave the control room empty? Pfft. They''d underestimated him.


    He made his way to the center Interface and began to work.


    He didn''t get to work for long, though. All of five minutes later, he felt Firmament so strong he fell to his knees, gasping for air.


    "You... doing that for fun, or something?" he managed to say. "I... I know seventh-layers are strong, but making me choke when I don''t even need to breathe feels kind of unnecessary."


    "That''s what you''re worried about?" Lhore raised an eyebrow at him. "It''s involuntary, if you must know. A big enough Firmament difference makes all the latent memory in your Firmament wake up. And a lot of Firmament is produced by things that need to breathe. You don''t have any lungs, so the reflex makes it feel like you''re suffocating."


    "Thanks... for explaining it to me." Gheraa gritted his teeth. If lungs were all he needed...


    He made a small adjustment, then took another gasping breath, relieved. Lhore''s power still hung heavily over him, but the sensation that made him feel like he was choking was gone.


    Unpleasant. Sometimes he didn''t know how Ethan could stand being human. Or other organics, for that matter.


    "You''ve made lungs for yourself before," Lhore said. It was a statement, not a question. "I suppose I shouldn''t be surprised."


    "Need to be able to breathe to put on a good show." Gheraa grinned. "What kind of entertainer can''t even gasp in shock?"


    "You''ve always taken the entertainment part of your job rather seriously." Lhore took a step back, examining him, and Gheraa shifted self-consciously under the weight of her gaze.


    He didn''t care what she thought. He didn''t.


    Lhore sighed. "I always did like your broadcasts," she admitted. "I thought you''d go far. Pity you decided to turn against us."


    "Maybe Rhoran''s primary method of discipline shouldn''t be beating us up, then."


    "Is that what he does?" Lhore considered this, then shrugged. "I suppose it''s his right. I disapprove, for the record. If you had come to me, I might have had you reassigned."


    "Because that solves the problem."


    Lhore didn''t comment. "I''m impressed you managed to hide from me for so long," she said. "Most Integrators can''t fight very well if their Interface gets locked down. Still stronger than any Trialgoer, but forget about using skills. Let alone ones like Perfect Concealment."


    "Is this a praise-Gheraa session, or are you going to do what you came here to do?" Gheraa asked. He slowly forced himself to his feet, the back of his palms pressing against the console.


    One more button. He only needed to press one more button.


    "I suppose I''m curious enough to talk, first," Lhore said. "Why rebel at all? And if you were going to rebel, why go out of your way to help this particular human? I might''ve let you go, if you just ran instead of coming here."


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    Gheraa snorted. "We both know that isn''t true," he said, then went silent; Lhore waited as he tried to compose a response. Truth be told, he didn''t have a good, rational reason behind choosing to stay behind and warn Ethan. Sure, Ethan had promised to save him¡ªbut what were the odds of that? It was an empty promise at best, even if it had been a comforting lie at the time. There wasn''t a chance some new Trialgoer would get strong enough during their Trial to not only infiltrate the Integrated City, bypass every single guard and Integrator to fetch him, then somehow escape intact.


    Not a chance. The odds were beyond impossible, even with what he''d done to help. All logic dictated that Ethan would die in the attempt, most likely permanently, and they would move on to the next Trialgoer.


    "It''s weird," Gheraa admits. "But you know, he saw what was going on with me. What Rhoran was doing."


    "And that was enough to earn your loyalty?" There was a hint of derision in Lhore''s voice.


    In spite of himself, Gheraa smiled. "No," he said. "It''s the fact that when he told me he''d save me, I believed him."


    Lhore scoffs. "No human would be able to get into this space, let alone escape. They would die just from the pressure."


    "I know!" Gheraa laughed. "I know. It should be impossible. And I believed him anyway, against all reason, against all common sense. Isn''t that strange?"


    "You are describing yourself as a fool. And he will not be able to survive what''s coming, let alone find a way to save you."


    "I know that too." Gheraa grinned, though the grin fell away after a moment; his expression settled, and he looked at Lhore, his gaze as placid and calm as a lake. "Y''know what''s weird?"


    "...What?"


    "Despite all that," Gheraa said. "I still believe him. It''s not about me being a fool, Lhore. There''s something about that human."


    Lhore shook her head, disgusted. "You will not live long enough for him to save you."


    "Yeah," Gheraa said. "I know that, too."


    His fingers had found the button on the console behind him. Lhore''s eyes widened.


    "I still believe him," he continued. "Funny how that works."


    "Gheraa¡ª" Lhore started forward, a gleaming scythe of pure, deadly Firmament forming in her hand. Gheraa laughed. In any other situation, she could have killed him instantly, but his guess had been right: he was too close to the console, and she was afraid of damaging it. It made her slower. Any force too strong would be liable to knock the delicate balance of the control system for the Interface apart. The stupid thing was hacked together enough as it was.


    He pressed the button, and found it in himself to give Lhore one final smirk, even as the scythe descended on him.


    <hr>


    I wake up with a start, my heart pounding. There''s a spate of notifications in front of me, but at least for the moment, I''m more focused internally. There had been a split second of something, right at the end, an echo of an echo I caught in the moment just before I woke up.


    Gheraa''s personality construct. There was something there, as he sacrificed his Firmament and poured the rest of himself into making that conversion core for me. Something similar to what I''d noticed before when the Void Inspiration reacted to the Hunger Firmament¡ªsomething hiding underneath, once all the layers of Firmament were stripped bare.


    Intent. But not just intent. There was memory there, like everything Gheraa had imprinted onto the Firmament had been left behind as a loose clump of ideas and concepts. The memory of our conversation, too, lingering between it all. A spiderweb of thoughts and memories.


    It''s entirely instinct that makes me reach out for it. I remember a loose thought before, about wanting to find a way to preserve this version of Gheraa. At the time, it had been a passing fancy; I didn''t want a fully sapient construct to die, and I felt a little uncomfortable with the idea that Gheraa''s main self wouldn''t be aware of the vulnerability his construct had shown to me.


    The moment I notice that echo, that passing fancy turns into a reaction, and I wrap that collection of thoughts and memories in a sphere of pure Firmament. I have to work quickly¡ªI don''t have much Firmament that''s pure, which means I have to pump Firmament through the new core Gheraa created for me and fashion it into something large enough to hold everything.


    It takes me one minute. Sixty seconds exactly. Time is impossibly precise as I''m doing this. For whatever reason, I''m perfectly aware of how much time has passed, and a small part of myself marks that as strange. Something''s changed.


    Then it''s done. The new construct¡ªnot alive, but a sort of holding pattern, similar to the way skills are built¡ªsits in between the rest of my Inspirations, hiding somewhere within me. Holding a copy of Gheraa''s... what, his soul? Or at least an echo of him. A vestige.


    "Uh, Ethan?" Ahkelios pokes me hard, and I make an indignant noise. He sighs in relief and gives me a tiny hug, though he''s large enough now that this means he''s wrapping himself around my chest like insectoid body armor. I pry him off, laughing.


    "Relax, Ahkelios, I''m fine," I say. "Just had something I had to take care of, uh, internally. I see you''ve gotten bigger."


    "And I got some memories back!" Ahkelios says, injecting a note of false cheer in his voice. "It''s not as bad as I worried, but I still wanna talk about them. Later, I mean. After you deal with... this."


    "You see them too, huh?" I say. Ahkelios is staring at the same notifications I am. I''ve sort of been avoiding looking at them, because there''s a bad feeling boiling within me.


    They''re not normal Interface messages. They''re messages from Gheraa.


    [ Ethan. It''s Gheraa. I don''t have much time. They figured out what I was doing. I might be dead by the time you read this. Don''t worry! Or do worry. I''m not eager to die or anything. I''d appreciate it if you could save me. ]


    [ I don''t know if you''ve unlocked my little gift yet. If you haven''t, you''re going to need to trigger the Interface''s Mind Vault. Any strong enough existential threat should do it. Can''t explain more, sorry. ]


    [ The Integrators are trying to shut you down. We can''t interfere with an ongoing Trial, not really, but we can start events. Raids, for example. If you''re reading this message, one''s probably already started, and they''re probably going to have it on the worst possible setting to try to make you give up. One try, all persistent deaths. ]


    [ I snuck to the control room. I''m giving you two temporary skills to help. You can''t get permanent ones without credits. Be careful¡ªthe first is going to break apart quickly once you start using it; it''s still pretty half-formed since no one''s completed your Trial yet. I''m estimating this might give you four tries in the best case scenario. ]


    [ Good luck, Ethan. And for what it''s worth, I''m sorry. ]


    A raid. My heart begins to hammer in my chest. I remember the last one all too clearly, and how badly the first loop in it; they''re calling one down on Isthanok? That''s Whisper''s city! Whisper''s on their side! There are so many people in here that a raid would turn into an absolute slaughter of hundreds of thousands of people¡ª


    I''m trembling, but not in fear. Ahkelios''s fists are balled tight as he stands on my shoulder and silently reads. Bimar seems to have noticed the change in atmosphere, because she approaches warily.


    "Tell me he gave you something to help," Ahkelios says quietly. Despite the volume, there''s a layer of rage in it that''s heavily reminiscent of my own.


    I glance down at the next notifications. "He did," I say.


    Four tries in the best case scenario, even though I''m only supposed to have one.


    [ You have been credited with a Firmament skill. Once More Into the Fray (Rank SS) obtained! ]


    [ You have been credited with a Reflex skill. Guardian of Fate (Rank S) obtained! ]


    The rest of my Interface notifications are about the upcoming raid. I scowl and swipe them away, then turn my focus back toward the skills.


    One skill to try again. One skill to see what I need to do. I feel them both within me, pulsing with strange, foreign power, not quite settled into me the way the rest of my skills are. It doesn''t matter. They''re gifts, and I intend to use them.


    Guardian of Fate.


    Information pours into me, and through me into Ahkelios. We both stiffen.


    Tarin, connecting to Guard through his Firmament. Whisper''s fury is palpable behind them, and I can see the suspicion forming, the thought that he can''t be allowed to live. I feel her preparing to strike as soon as he disconnects.


    He-Who-Wanders, speaking with some sort of merchant-lord. He''s managed to trick his way in, but there are whispers in the back of the room¡ªpeople looking into his background and discovering his lie. They won''t let him leave alive.


    Vahrkos, about to engage in battle. He''ll win. He''ll win the first fight, and the next, and the next. He''ll hold strong until the general arrives, but he''ll be too battered by then to win that last, crucial battle. His dead body will be puppeted by a Void Suit.


    Thys and Thaht... safe. They''re in their workshop. Nothing in the near future, but I''ll have to keep an eye out.


    Miktik. Missing. Guardian of Fate is powerful, and it should be able to latch on to anyone and everyone I care about. But there''s an absence where she should be. A void. She isn''t dead, but something''s wrong.


    "Change of plans," I say to Bimar, my voice grim. "Integrators are interfering. Everyone''s in danger. I need you to stay here."


    "Your plan didn''t work, huh?" Bimar looks like she''s about to scoff, but she sees the look in my eyes, and something in her shifts. She shakes her head. "I can''t just do nothing."


    "...Look for Miktik." I don''t have time to search for her, and Guardian of Fate can latch on to Bimar just fine. "I don''t know where she is. I can see everyone else, but not her. Find her. And stay hidden. The city''s under attack."


    "It''s under what?" Bimar begins, but I''m gone before she can finish her sentence.

 122 — Book 2, Chapter 59 — Loop 15.1 Part 1

    Vahrkos is in the most danger. Whatever that general does to him in the fight I foresaw, it''s enough to damage his Firmament, and it''s the kind of damage that sticks across loops. I don''t know if subloops created by Once More Into the Fray count in the same way, but I have to assume that they do; the only thing it''s allowing me to bypass is the enforced rule of permanent death. That triggers at the end of the official, Trial-enforced loop, not within the subloops.


    Or so Inspect tells me, anyway.


    That doesn''t mean I don''t have a problem. If the information Guardian of Fate gave me is correct, then Vahrkos, Wander, and Tarin are all about to die at basically around the same time. No matter how fast I am¡ªand even if I could use Warpstep to jump between one fight and the next¡ªI''m not going to be there in time to help all of them in a single loop.


    Not unless I use a function embedded in Temporal Link that I haven''t used for a while. That ability to create temporal clones of myself, echoing the movement of a past loop? It''s the only chance I''m going to have to keep all of them alive.


    And that''s not even taking into account whatever might have happened to Miktik.


    Temporal Link is stronger now. I''m not sure what that means for the copies I can call from it¡ªif it means they''re going to be stronger in any significant way, or if they''re still limited in scope and power. The last time I experimented with that aspect of the skill, I could summon fragments of my past loops to fight for me. I was using it as a means of active combat. It''s been a while since I''ve used it the way I assume it''s supposed to be used.


    Here goes nothing.


    I should act with the assumption that the copies can copy anything I do, mostly because holding back in a situation like this is going to get me killed. Besides, they don''t really seem based in anything physical; their entire existence is about replicating what I was doing, when I was doing it. Unless they''re knocked off their temporal track by a powerful attack that didn''t happen the first time, they move at the exact same speeds and with the exact same strength I do, regardless of whether they activate a skill to do it.


    So...


    Accelerate.


    I need to conserve my Firmament. Warpstep is out of the question for the moment with what I''ve learned about how it can drain me if there''s any spatial interference in the way. I still don''t know anything about the monsters this particular Raid is going to inflict Isthanok with, so I need to be prepared for anything and everything¡ª


    Premonition triggers. I leap out of the way just before a meteorite slams into the ground in front of me, shattering the glass and creating a crater.


    And then, for the first time since getting the raid notification, I look up.


    It''s not immediately visible. Isthanok''s nature of a city with dozens of floating citadels makes the sky look a bit like a fractured mirror; it''s beautiful, but it blocks out the streaks of light that have begun to rain down onto the city. I see glimpses of them at first, images refracted through the glass and painting distorted trails of fire into the night.


    Then a citadel fractures. The sound hits me a moment later, a boom followed by shattering glass. The entire building dips, like the force that''s been keeping it held up is dissipating. It hasn''t instantly fallen, thankfully, but...


    "I''m not going to be able to save everyone here, am I?" I say.


    It''s like the city is just as stunned as I am. There''s a silence so complete that my words echo into the streets, carrying much further than I intended. Everyone around me hears my words.


    Then the screams begin.


    I don''t have a choice. I go back to running, blasting as much Firmament into Accelerate as I feel I safely can. Ahkelios clings to my shoulder, but I can feel him trying to be reassuring, in a way¡ªI can feel his sympathy through the link.


    "It''s always something like this," Ahkelios says. "That''s why no one has been able to pass this Trial."


    "I don''t need to hear that now," I snap, trying to keep the tension out of my voice. Ahkelios doesn''t flinch, but he does grip on to my shoulder a little tighter.


    "They''re unfolding," he says.


    "What?"


    "The meteorites." He''s looking behind me, I think. I can''t spare a glance¡ªit''s taking everything I have to dodge around all the buildings and people, not to mention the meteorites that keep striking the ground in front of me. It''s almost like they''re targeting me. "They''re unfolding. Into monsters."


    I let out a sharp curse. Of course they are. A raid isn''t complete without monsters. Of course they aren''t just meteorites. I risk a glance behind myself, though I nearly slam into a pole as a result. The street is filled with creatures staggering to their feet, their bodies made out of a combination of earth and fire. Cracks of heated Firmament run through their bodies.


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    Amplification Gauntlet. Crystallized Strength. The next meteorite that tries to crash into me I just punch, using all my accumulated speed and momentum amplified by the gauntlet that coalesces around my fist. I can''t spare the time to save everyone, but if I just get rid of these threats instead of running past them¡ª


    ¡ªexcept instead of shattering like I expected, there''s a sound like the ringing of a bell. There''s a shockwave. The gauntlet around my fist reverberates, and I feel the structure of the Firmament within almost shatter. It takes effort for me to maintain it. I have to force more Firmament into the skill, pour every ounce of Firmament Control I have into keeping it formed and stable. Even through its protection, I can feel the sheer heat of the living meteorite threatening to burn my skin.


    Around us, things are breaking. The shockwave seems to disrupt the Firmament of everything it touches. The silverwisps nearby flicker and stumble, some of them nearly going out; there are entire sections of buildings that disappear, some of them coming back in a moment and others appearing to be gone for good. Every street light within range dies.


    Ahkelios''s form wavers, but he manages to keep himself together. "Ethan!" he shouts. "It¡ª"


    "Yeah, I know!" I shout back. Whatever this thing is just converted all the kinetic energy of my punch into a massive area-of-effect Dispel. It hovers in the air against my fist in a complete defiance of physics.


    But it''s at its limit. With all the time I''ve spent working with imbuement, with trying to understand Firmament and how it works, with what Gheraa has shown me about skills and even the process of deconstructing one¡ªI can feel the Firmament structure this thing is using to cause this effect. It has its hands full handling just a single punch from me.


    Luckily, I have a second arm.


    Amplification Gauntlet. Crystallized Strength. Concentrated Power.


    The second hit still doesn''t kill it, but the ground beneath my feet does crack, and the shockwave this time is one of pure force, not a Dispel. It shoots back into the sky, away from Isthanok, and I immediately set my focus back to running.


    One minute before the time indicated by Guardian of Fate. One minute to get to Vahrkos and help him in the fight against Whisper''s general.


    "Whisper has to know about this," I say as I run. "Why isn''t she doing anything? She can''t be okay with a raid on her city."


    Even as I say the words, though, it strikes me that she might not. She''s in the lab with Tarin, if the vision I had holds true. If she''s focused on Guard at the moment and has turned off all her typical forms of surveillance, she might not even know her city''s under attack.


    Though that doesn''t sound like something Whisper would do.


    "Maybe she''s already doing something," Ahkelios says. "It''s not like she can be everywhere at once¡ªwhoa!"


    Ahkelios''s words turn into a yelp when I leap over the next incoming meteorite. Quicken Mind accelerates my perception just enough that I''m able to use it as a stepping stone, and the intrinsic kinetic absorption it seems to have allows me to kick off of it without stopping. I send it off course, just slightly, so that it slams into the sidewalk instead of into a civilian.


    Apparently it''s a little less efficient at kinetic absorption when the blow isn''t quite as hard. Some sort of reactive effect, maybe. The harder the blow, the more it absorbs, up to a certain limit...


    ...no time to think about it.


    Some of the meteorites are headed toward Isthanok''s military base. It makes sense: if they''re going to raid a city, they should start by taking out whatever defenses that city might have. I have no doubt that there are similar clusters headed toward every guardpost and station that houses the bodies for He-Who-Guards, along with any other soldiers Whisper might have.


    But this is convenient. The meteorites don''t follow normal, physical paths toward the ground¡ªthey''re aiming themselves toward the high-priority targets. The few remaining that are aimed at me, apparently deciding I''m too much trouble to deal with, have changed their target toward the nearby base.


    And they''re moving faster than Accelerate can on its own.


    Flashstep.


    The extra burst of speed allows me to land directly on one of these meteorites. I hiss in pain almost immediately; contact with it is enough to immediately start to burn at my skin and clothing, and I have to coat myself in a layer of Firmament to protect myself. Ahkelios is just staring incredulously.


    "...Seriously, Ethan?" he asks.


    "It''s faster this way," I say.


    Forty seconds left. Accelerate would have gotten me there in thirty. With the meteorite''s help, I get there in fifteen. Before it can slam into the wall of the base, I leap off of it, charging my legs with Firmament and clearing the top of that wall.


    I''m greeted by chaos.


    Most of the meteorites at the moment seem focused on bringing down the walls of the base, so the people inside said base don''t seem to have realized that they or the city are under attack. I can''t fault them for it, considering they''re in the middle of facing off against Vahrkos. He''s taking them down one after the other with so much speed and efficiency I can barely tell what''s happening.


    It''s not the speed I can''t keep up with. It''s the efficiency. There''s no wasted movement, not a single iota of energy spent on an unnecessary flourish. He doesn''t even hit harder than he needs to. Small, quick movements disarm one morphling and dislocates his arm; he goes down with a scream of pain. A quick jab behind him causes an entire silverwisp''s form to flicker, and she doubles over before collapsing, unable to stay upright.


    "I... wow." Ahkelios is staring. "Are you sure he needs our help?"


    "It''s not them he needs help with." I can already sense the base''s general approaching. His presence feels like a well of overpowering Firmament. He doesn''t control it nearly as well as a Trialgoer might; in fact, the only reason I can sense him so strongly is because he''s letting most of his power leak freely. He''s Vahrkos''s opposite, in that sense. A ton of power, and no efficiency.


    Unfortunately, the gulf between their respective levels of Firmament is too large for Vahrkos to overcome with efficiency alone.


    "Vahrkos!" I call out. I''m already falling toward the ground, and Accelerate makes me drop even faster. The general''s attention doesn''t waver from his target¡ªhe doesn''t seem to care that I''m here. Does he not consider me a threat?


    That''s going to bite him.


    A wave of near-solid Firmament rolls out from the general just as I touch the ground. Vahrkos''s head jerks toward the sound of my voice, but I can sense him preparing to defend. It won''t be enough.


    No choice.


    I Warpstep toward him and slam up every shield and barrier I have.

 123 — Book 2, Chapter 60 — Loop 15.1 Part 2

    As powerful as the wave of Firmament heading toward us is, it''s not focused. It breaks against my barriers like a tide of water breaking against a dam. The damage it does is still immense enough to shatter all six folds of the Hexfold Barrier, but it can''t quite get through the Crystallized Barrier I''ve set up behind it.


    "...Ethan?" There''s a note of confusion in Vahrkos''s voice, like he''s not sure where he is or what he''s doing. "Why are you here?"


    I glance at Vahrkos. He''s confused, but that confusion is quickly being replaced with a sharp focus. "Felt like you needed some help," I say, nodding toward the general.


    Vahrkos turns, immediately bristling at the sight. There''s nothing physical to it, but I sense the way his Firmament reacts¡ªit ripples within him, almost like it''s urging him to fight, to act. Surging toward his limbs, almost trying to fight its way free of his body. There''s the smallest hint of physical change before Vahrkos grunts and forces the Firmament back down, his expression tense. "Anhar."


    "...You going to be okay for the fight?" I ask, concerned.


    "I will be fine." Vahrkos''s reply is short, terse. "I''ve met Anhar before. He''ll be a difficult fight."


    He says that, but there''s a tension there that has nothing to do with Anhar or with the fight. I vaguely recall what he said in the first loop we met¡ªsomething about not wanting to use his other forms.


    I''m not going to question it. Now''s not the time, anyway.


    "Ahkelios will give you signals," I say. "Keep an eye on him."


    It''s going to be the first time I''m fighting with Vahrkos, and I''m not going to get many¡ªif any¡ªrepeated tries to get this right. There''s a chance we''ll just get in each other''s way. But Vahrkos very clearly has a lot more combat experience than I am, and I''m hoping that''ll be enough to make this work.


    "If you''re here to fight and not just get information, then I''m assuming something went wrong," Vahrkos says.


    I grimace. "Integrators," I mutter. Anhar''s approach is slow¡ªhe''s taking his time, unconcerned by me and by the meteorites slamming down into the city. From the intensity of his gaze on Vahrkos, I''m guessing he''s barely even registered that I''m here. "It''s a long story, but right now we don''t have the full advantages of the loop."


    "You should make sure Wanders is okay." Vahrkos''s reply is nearly immediate. "He''s not a fighter. I can handle myself."


    In the distance, Anhar laughs, like he heard what Vahrkos said. Now that I look a little closer at him, he''s huge for a morphling. Most of them are six feet tall; Anhar stretches up to at least seven.


    "This fight''s gonna be hard even for the both of us," I say. It''s telling that Vahrkos doesn''t have an immediate response to this. "...I''ll do my best to make sure no one on your team dies."


    Vahrkos grunts. It''s hard for me to read what he''s thinking. Part of me wonders if he''ll blame me for the situation, but he doesn''t seem inclined to.


    Instead, he says two words.


    "He''s coming."


    Anhar bursts forward. A cloud of dust kicks up behind him. The rest of the soldiers have long since either retreated or finally realized that the city''s under attack; Anhar''s the only one left here to deal with us. Vahrkos dodges to the left, and I Accelerate to the right¡ª


    Anhar''s suddenly between us. There''s a blip in Quicken Mind, and before I can react¡ªin that infinitesimal moment when the skill''s flame gutters out¡ªa strong hand grips my neck. Vahrkos is caught just as easily as I am. Ahkelios lets out a shout of alarm, and I see him turning into a streak of blue Firmament at the exact same instant Anhar slams us together.


    The impact of an angry, ethereal mantis flying into his face makes Anhar let us go, and both Vahrkos and I collapse to the ground. I''m back on my feet near instantly, calling on the tiniest flicker of Second Wind to¡ª


    No. I''m not holding back with Anhar.


    Second Wind. Aspect of Regrowth.


    This is my first time actually using the newly-acquired Inspiration. I''m not prepared for the painful sensation of roots digging their way through my flesh¡ªand I can feel something similar happening with the core of the skill deep within me. The Inspiration is digging its roots into the skill, altering it.


    Fueling it. Making it last, at least for now. Hopefully it won''t be permanently damaged after this.


    "Ethan," Vahrkos grunts. There''s a questioning note in his voice.


    "I''m okay," I answer. I don''t take my eyes off of Anhar, who is currently busy trying to swat away a very persistent mantis. Ahkelios isn''t actually succeeding at doing a lot of damage, but in that same vein, Anhar can''t quite seem to hurt him¡ªevery time he does, Ahkelios just gets up again. It''s not like the guy has any internal organs. He''s just fueled by my Firmament.


    Speaking of which, we need to end this before I run out of that Firmament.


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    "Does he have any weaknesses?" I ask. Vahrkos seems to know him. The morphling hesitates for a moment before he responds.


    "...His left arm was badly injured once," Vahrkos says. "He overcompensates when it comes to defending his left. But it is hard to take advantage of¡ª"


    Whatever else Vahrkos plans to say, I don''t get to hear, because Anhar chooses this moment to decide he''s tired of playing Ahkelios''s games. Another huge wave of Firmament bursts out of him, this time tuned more for power than range; it''s weak enough that by the time it reaches us, Vahrkos and I can just dig our heels into the dirt and weather it.


    Ahkelios, on the other hand, is sent flying. I don''t have time to look for him¡ªthe link between us tells me that he''s fine, if a little disoriented. He''ll be back in a moment.


    Anhar isn''t planning on giving us that moment, of course. He seems to have decided that I''m the larger threat, because this time, he''s charging toward me. I keep a tight hold on Quicken Mind this time¡ªwhatever he did to disrupt it before, I have no intention of allowing it to happen again.


    There.


    It''s barely noticeable, but there''s a weak burst of Firmament from him at the exact moment he comes within striking range. It''s not designed to hurt. It''s designed to disrupt, to break apart Firmament constructs. To break apart internal Firmament constructs, specifically.


    Which means this is a skill developed specifically for fighting against Trialgoers. I guess Whisper''s been preparing for me for a while.


    Phaseslip.


    I become ethereal just long enough for Anhar''s swipe to pass straight through me. His disruptive Firmament wave strikes me like a physical blow, but that''s fine¡ªit''s a weak pulse to begin with, and I barely feel it as it bounces off of me. He doesn''t expect me to just go immaterial, and the lack of resistance causes him to lose balance.


    Something that Vahrkos immediately takes advantage of. The morphling charges in, his Firmament shifting abruptly to form a nexus of power within his fist; he''s aiming for Anhar''s left side.


    He''s creating an opening for me. He doesn''t signal me except through the slightest of gestures, a quick flick of his antennae. I''m not sure I''m reading him right, but it''s good enough for me. I Phaseslip for a second time and step through Vahrkos, crossing over to Anhar''s right even as he focuses all his defenses on his left. His eyes widen in reaction, and he tries desperately to course correct.


    Vahrkos''s blows are efficient. He''s not necessarily powerful, but he strikes at weak points and his form is perfect.


    Me?


    I haven''t trained nearly as much, so most of my hits are about raw power.


    Crystallized Strength. Amplification Gauntlet. Accelerate. Intrinsic Lightning. Void.


    It''s probably the biggest number of skills I''ve ever tried to stack into a single hit; I can feel something within me straining, like a piece of my soul is on the verge of rupturing. Thankfully, it doesn''t: the effect of Second Wind keeps everything firmly in place, and the Interface assists in slotting every skill neatly together.


    Crystalline Firmament forms within my muscles. The gauntlet that forms on my arm takes that strength and multiplies it tenfold. All that mass is Accelerated, and Intrinsic Lightning gives me that tiniest fraction of extra speed and reaction to strike at the point in Anhar''s armor that''s weakest in Firmament.


    And then the Void Inspiration sucks away all that protective Firmament in a single, powerful gulp.


    Boom.


    I''m not prepared for the punch to generate an actual shockwave, though, nor for Anhar to be sent flying back, tumbling head over heels and crashing into the wall hard enough to form a crater within the concrete. Ahkelios flies back over to me, his mandibles splayed open with shock.


    "What was that?" he asks.


    I''m not sure I know myself. I don''t think that combination of skills would have been nearly that powerful before, but whatever Gheraa''s given me has pushed me close enough to the next phase-shift that I think I''m already beginning to benefit from the quality shift in my Firmament.


    "He''s not dead," Vahrkos says quietly. I turn my attention back to the battlefield, pushing the questions back to the back of my mind.


    "How." I''m almost certain he wasn''t protected by Firmament when I hit him. Not after the Void sucked it all away.


    "With some help," Vahrkos says.


    I tense. The dust is beginning to clear, and I see Anhar standing in the debris, his silhouette marked by a faintly glowing, crumbling object held in the palm of his hand.


    "Is that..." I begin.


    "It''s an imbuement stone," Ahkelios says, a small note of frantic panic in his voice. "Whisper''s given him skills¡ª"


    I dive out of the way before Ahkelios can finish, and beside me, Vahrkos does the same; a massive burst of Firmament beams out toward me like a streak of solid energy. I recognize the skill as the same one Whisper used to kill me in one of my previous loops.


    Vahrkos won''t dodge in time. I call on Hexfold Shield, and shape the six shields into a triangular, piercing sort of shape; Hueshift allows me to alter the color of the Firmament into a reflective yellow instead of the usual defensive blue, and the beam splits apart into six, cutting into the ground and walls around us.


    "He''s used two stones," Vahrkos says. "One to heal. Another one for that."


    "Any idea how many he has in total?" I ask.


    Vahrkos stays tense. "...A lot."


    That''s a non-answer if I''ve ever heard one, but before I can call him out on it, Anhar pulls out a third stone and crushes it in his fist. A golden spear forms, glowing with power.


    "Ten!" Vahrkos calls out suddenly. "Seven left!"


    I frown. Did he do something to figure that out? I don''t have time to ask, because Anhar throws the spear toward us with a tremendous burst of power; it''s packed with so much Firmament that I don''t even need to see the skill window to know what it does¡ªthat spear is going to explode on impact.


    Compounded Mind. I need more time to think than Quicken Mind can give me. The small amount of time I have to empower the skill doesn''t allow me to boost it as much as I''d like, but any amount helps.


    The first thing I notice is the string of Firmament leading from the spear back to Anhar. He''s controlling it, even at a distance.


    The second thing I notice is a flicker of a vision from both Premonition and Guardian of Fate. He''s intending to swerve the spear at the last moment to hit Vahrkos instead of me.


    The third thing I notice is that Ahkelios shares my accelerated mind through our Temporal Link.


    I grin.


    Here''s what we''re going to do.

 124 — Book 2, Chapter 61 — Loop 15.1 Part 3

    Anhar''s connection to his spear is a weak one¡ªunlike Trialgoers, he doesn''t have any Interface-assisted version of Firmament Control. His ability to stay connected to his spear is a part of the skill he''s just used, but given it isn''t his own to begin with, it''s not going to be difficult for me to override. I can feel how easy it would be to reach out and just... take over.


    But he''ll be ready for that. The fact that he''s got countermeasures against Trialgoers at all means I should assume he''ll be prepared for common skills like Firmament Control. I can''t ignore the fact that he''s got seven more skills, either, by Vahrkos''s estimation. At least they seem to be one-use only.


    Worst-case scenario, I''ll have to force him to wear out all of them¡ªbut it''d be better if I could stop him from using them at all.


    First things first. Step one.


    Intrinsic Lightning.


    I haven''t forgotten what Tarin taught me when I was watching him fight in the Arena. It might be my first time using the skill in combat, but I''m pretty sure I was able to get the hang of it while I was watching him. Sparks of Firmament begin to rush through my body, multiplying as they go, sensitive to even the slightest change in the Firmament around me.


    Step two. Anhar needs to target me, not Vahrkos. I begin building up Concentrated Power in my fist. Right now, Anhar thinks he''ll have the advantage if he can get rid of us one by one; I need to make sure he realizes he doesn''t have the time or the luxury to focus on just one of us.


    Above me, Ahkelios flashes a quick signal to Vahrkos, and I feel some power drain from me as he uses one of my skills. Hopefully Vahrkos will understand what to do.


    Step three. I begin sprinting toward Anhar.


    I don''t use Accelerate or any of my speed skills this time. I let the arm that''s building power hang a little low, like the strength I''m accumulating is too heavy for me to carry. I let it seem like the strain on my system is so much that I can''t use my normal skills alongside it. Anhar''s gaze flickers toward me, and the Premonition I have about the fight changes.


    He isn''t targeting Vahrkos anymore. Good.


    Instead, the spear whips toward me so quickly I can barely spot it even with Quicken Mind accelerating my thoughts; it''s a good thing Tarin''s little trick works, because I stumble out of the way without even consciously registering the movement. The change in Firmament translates directly into signals along my nervous system, forcing an instinctive sidestep even as the spear smashes a crater into the ground beneath me with explosive power.


    It whips around with no regard to the laws of physics, going in again for a second strike, and then a third; I grit my teeth as I feel my body straining to keep up. Second Wind does a lot of work here, replacing the scratches and wounds I do take with a seal of Firmament. Automatically dodging the spear itself is one thing¡ªevery time it strikes the ground, shards of rock fly out with enough force to gouge tears into my skin.


    It''s fine. The pain is minimal, suppressed both by my experiences within this Trial and the nature of Second Wind itself. I''m sure I must be quite the sight by this point¡ªI catch glimpses of myself through my link with Ahkelios. There are so many scratches on my legs I practically look like I''m glowing.


    If nothing else, it does a good job making me look intimidating. Anhar''s focus is nearly entirely on me, now.


    Which creates the perfect opportunity for Vahrkos.


    Hueshift is a poor replacement for an actual camoflaging skill, but in the heat of battle and with the amount of dust being tossed around by our fight, it''s just enough to keep Vahrkos obscured. It''s not that Anhar doesn''t notice the other morphling¡ªit''s just that the Hueshift-tinted Barrier in front of Vahrkos keeps him just obscured enough that he doesn''t register as a threat.


    Anhar is focused on me. The biggest threat right now is my fist. I''m still pouring Concentrated Power into it, and the amount of Firmament it contains is only growing. He''s been hit by me once before, and that''s enough to make him wary of taking another one.


    Several things happen in quick succession.


    I Warpstep, putting me directly beside Anhar, my fist just inches away from his right side¡ªthe same spot I punched before. Anhar jolts in surprise and reacts, pushing every last fragment of Firmament he can into defense. It''s entirely instinctive. Even if he''s been able to heal back from it, he still remembers the impact, the pain.


    In that instant, Anhar''s entire focus is locked into defending against me. Ahkelios and Vahrkos both take advantage of that instant. Vahrkos leaps into the air, toward the spear. Ahkelios reaches out with my Firmament Control, snipping the connection Anhar has with the spear and allowing Vahrkos to grab it.


    Ahkelios places a Barrier directly beneath Vahrkos''s feet, and the instant he makes contact, Vahrkos uses it to land, spin, and whip the spear forward using the weight and momentum of his entire body.


    Anhar''s focus is still on me. The spear is positioned behind me, blocking Anhar''s view of it.


    Phaseslip. I let my blow slide through Anhar unimpeded. His eyes widen¡ªhe doesn''t understand what I''m doing, doesn''t know why his defenses apparently failed or why he doesn''t feel any pain from what by all accounts seem to be a successful punch. It''s enough to throw him off and disrupt his focus on defending himself.


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    Unintended side effect: The mass of Firmament moving through him with Phaseslip disrupts his control over his own Firmament. Not actually part of the plan, but I''ll take it.


    It helps with the part where the spear goes straight through my Phaseslipped body and into Anhar''s chest.


    There isn''t even any resistance. The spear slides through him the same way it slides through me, though the effect is certainly a lot more explosive; I grimace as carapace shatters outward and wait a long moment before deactivating Phaseslip.


    Intangible or not, I''m not exactly enthusiastic about having bug parts tear through me. Or about Anhar''s now-mutilated body, strewn in two distinct parts on the ground. I grimace as a mental image of the broken bodies of those frog-people drifts through my mind, and dismiss the notification of his death. I''ll look at that later.


    Footsteps sound behind me, and I turn away with some relief. Vahrkos is staring at the corpse, his expression distant and hard to read. "You knew him?" I ask.


    "Once," Vahrkos replies shortly. He kneels down beside the corpse, then sighs. "Not much left of him."


    I frown even as Ahkelios flies back up to me and lands on my shoulder. "I feel like I''m not going to like the answer, but..."


    "I''m not talking about the corpse," Vahrkos says dryly.


    "I did notice he didn''t... talk. Not that I expect most people to talk while they''re trying to kill someone, but I thought he''d at least ask a question, or make a sound, or something."


    Vahrkos is silent for a moment. "It is something that can happen with morphlings," he says after a moment. "The balance between our aspects is delicate. Sometimes, those aspects can... collapse. Become something new."


    "Weird," Ahkelios remarks. I flick him. "Ow!"


    Vahrkos snorts a little, looking up at the mantis. "It is viewed as an abnormality," he agrees. "Frowned upon by many. It can results in individuals like Anhar¡ªmorphlings with more power than sense, capable of following orders and instructions, but not..." He hesitates, searching for the words. "Anhar was not incapable of thinking for himself, but he did not want to."


    There''s a long pause. "I don''t know what to say to that," I admit after a moment. It''s not a state of mind I can imagine.


    "It can be easier sometimes," Vahrkos says, his gaze still distant. I notice he''s begun to dig a hole in the ground¡ªa grave of some sort¡ªand without thinking twice about it, I begin to help. It''s easier to dig with a few shaped Barriers than with bare hands alone. Vahrkos accepts the help with a quiet grace, gratitude written into his features. "Not having to make the harder decisions. Not needing to worry about being wrong."


    "I guess I can see that." It''s still foreign to me, but the thought is at least something I can relate to. "Seems like a bad idea to put a guy like that in charge of your military, though."


    Vahrkos snorts. "Terrible," he agrees. "But this is Whisper we''re talking about. Someone like Anhar is perfect for her needs."


    "Can''t argue with that." I put up a quick Barrier as Vahrkos gathers up Anhar''s body and drops it rather unceremoniously into the grave; blood and gore splatter outward. He doesn''t seem to care.


    "Aren''t the others still in danger?" he asks. "Why are you helping me with this?"


    "They''re..." I hesitate. I don''t have a good answer for him¡ªnot an answer that he''ll like, at least. In this loop, Wanders and Tarin are already dead; I''ll have to trigger Once More Into the Fray if I want any chance at saving them, which means I need to use the rest of this loop to recover some Firmament and to gather information about how the raid is meant to progress. "I can''t help them right now."


    Vahrkos snorts. "You are not a good liar."


    "It''s not a lie," I protest, because it technically isn''t. He just looks at me, and I sigh. "...The Integrators messed with the loop. Right now, anyone that dies dies permanently."


    Vahrkos''s gaze goes to Anhar''s makeshift grave. There''s an immediate spark of worry in his eyes¡ªfear for his friends, no doubt. His voice, when he speaks, is cautious; I can hear the panic, carefully withheld. "I see. But there is a catch, I take it."


    "Kind of." I rub my temples; this is going to be a nightmare to explain. "The permanent deaths are tied to the end of the raid."


    "Raid?"


    "It''s a Trial mechanic that''s more or less an invasion." Right on cue, the walls of the base begin to crack; I grimace and glance around, pulling Vahrkos back and away from said walls. "A test, of sorts. If I fend off the raid, I win. If I fail... the Integrators erase the city."


    "They do what?" A flare of justified anger from Vahrkos.


    "Erase it. It''ll be gone permanently from the loops." I glance away. "And so will everyone in the city."


    Vahrkos''s voice is tight. "What''s the failure condition?"


    I glance at the notification again. "Either my own death or the death of everyone in the city," I say. "But like I said, those deaths are only permanent when the raid ends. I have a skill that will let me rewind time back to the start of the raid."


    "You can rewind time?" Vahrkos sounds incredulous, and I don''t blame him.


    "It''s not a skill I got for free and I''m not going to be able to use it much." I feel a pang of worry even as I say the words¡ªGheraa''s paid the price to give me that skill, and I don''t know what state he''s in at the moment. "That''s not important. What''s important is that I''ll have a few tries to get things right. Next loop around, I''ll send a copy of myself here to fight with you, and I''ll go save Wanders."


    There''s a long pause as Vahrkos processes what I''ve said. The walls around us are crumbling. For the first time, he can see the living meteorite-creatures that have invaded the city. From the way he narrows his eyes, I think he knows how strong they are, too. But I see him trying to control an emotion that''s separate from all of that. "He''s already dead, isn''t he?"


    "In this iteration," I admit reluctantly. That''s what Guardian of Fate tells me, anyway.


    Vahrkos takes a deep breath. His fists clench and unclench¡ªhe''s trembling, and it takes a moment before he speaks again. "...Alright," he says. "Then I should help you keep Isthanok safe for the rest of this loop. We cannot let all the people of Isthanok die."


    I hesitate. Vahrkos''s assistance would... help, I have to admit. I''ve been so focused on the idea of saving the rebels that I haven''t even considered that I''m going to have to clear away all of these meteorites before the raid can be considered over, and that means having to protect the civilians of Isthanok in that time.


    "Say yes," Ahkelios says, smacking the back of my head.


    "Ow," I grumble. "...Yes. I''d appreciate the help, Vahrkos. Just don''t get yourself killed."


    Vahrkos snorts. "I am not that easy to kill," he says. "Anhar is probably one of the few that could have done it. But you must keep my friends safe."


    "I''ll do my best," I promise. Vahrkos narrows his eyes, studying me.


    "I will hold you to it," he says.

 125 — Book 2, Chapter 62 — Loop 15.1 Part 4

    We spend the rest of that loop fighting together within Isthanok''s streets, finding out everything we can about the meteorites¡ªtheir abilities, their attack patterns, even their preferred targets. The harpies in my first raid had a certain sadistic method to their attacks; given the opportunity, they would target someone they knew would upset me, would break my spirit. Like a child.


    The meteorites don''t seem to have any such innate sadism. I''m not sure if it''s something I should be thankful about or not. On one hand, they aren''t intentionally maximizing the amount of pain they cause; on the other, they''re less predictable, reacting to even the smallest change around them.


    That doesn''t make them impossible to predict. As far as Vahrkos and I can tell, they go for the first thing that moves. Failing that, they go for whatever emits the most Firmament, including inanimate objects like street lamps.


    Easy enough to manipulate if I''m within their range. Far more difficult to predict at a wider scale. I doubt they''re going to remain very consistent between loops once they land. If I can catch them midair...


    "Thys and Thaht are going to be in trouble," Vahrkos mutters, interrupting my train of thought.


    "What?" Guardian of Fate still hasn''t shown me anything about either of those two¡ªbut even as I speak, it flickers, as if a vision is on the verge of manifesting. Not quite there yet. That''s strange; the skill is new to me, but it''s been pretty good at showing me definitive outcomes so far.


    "Their workshop is full of Firmament." Vahrkos nods toward a nearby shop getting smashed up; I sense the flickers and bursts of Firmament exploding into fireworks of power as the living meteorites destroy everything within. "Like that. Once they''re sniffed out, they''ll be a target."


    "Ah. Great." Another thing I''m going to have to worry about.


    "They''re good at hiding." Vahrkos grunts, shoving a piece of rubble out of the way. "I mention them only to keep you aware, not to make you worry. They can more than likely handle themselves."


    "I''ll keep an eye out, at least," I say. "I appreciate the warning."


    Guardian of Fate is going to have to pick up the slack there. I have too many things to keep track of individually as it is. I wouldn''t be surprised if I''ve already forgotten some things.


    As far as we can determine, the meteorites themselves aren''t anything special. Their main trick is the dispelling Firmament that bursts out of them whenever they''re hit too hard, but besides that particularity, they''re about as standard as you can get. They have great strength, incredible durability, mediocre speed, and nonexistent reflexes.


    It''s pretty much just the absorb-dispel trick that''s a problem, amplified by the fact that their outer shells are resistant to most blunt-force attacks. Even with stacked skills it''s difficult for me to break through even one, let alone the dozens raining down across all of Isthanok.


    ...I''m starting to miss the scythe I stole from that Ahkelios-expy that killed me whenever I woke up. Maybe I should''ve kept a copy of it. Or at least stolen one from the dead monster in the research lab.


    Ahkelios tunes in to my thoughts. "Can''t you hit the inside of them?" he asks. "With Phaseslip."


    I grimace. "I''m not sure what happens if I try to disable Phaseslip while I''m inside something, but I''m pretty sure it''s nothing good. The Interface tries to stop me from doing it."


    "Ah." Ahkelios nods, as if expecting this answer. "That probably means you''d lose a limb."


    "...You say that like you have experience with that."


    "Part of the memories I got back." Ahkelios says this as casually as he can, but I can sense the undercurrent of stress and tension in his voice¡ªthere''s something unresolved there. "Don''t worry about it for now. If the Interface is telling you not to do something, probably best not to do it."


    "Or I''ll try it at the end of a loop, where it doesn''t matter as much," I grunt.


    That said, a Phaseslip isn''t my only option to get through these things. Now that he''s brought it up, I remember doing something similar to Thaht''s mechanoid suit in an Arena fight that feels like it was forever ago. Timestrike doesn''t have any restrictions on where I punch, only when; I should be able to use it to bypass the external armor of the meteorites the same way I bypassed Thaht''s suit.


    And if I pay enough attention, I''ll have the positions of every meteorite as they fall toward Isthanok. I could prime a Timestrike for them, depending on how it interacts with the subloops. The only problem with that plan is that it''s significantly more positions and times than is reasonable for me to memorize within a hundred loops, let alone the four or five I''ll have.


    I grimace. I should probably still try to memorize a few.


    "I''m going to go see He-Who-Wanders," Vahrkos tells me. He isn''t looking at me. If anything, he''s looking distinctly away, staring out at the carnage that''s been strewn across Isthanok. Broken and melted glass lies across the streets. Sounds I''ve long since tuned out echo across the city, and I''m trying desperately not to hear them. Not to hear the crying of an infant, not to hear the sheer, grieving, anguished scream of a father that''s lost his son, not to hear the rage-filled yell from a mother fighting to save the last of her children.


    I don''t have many loops to get this right. I can''t afford the time to¡ªI can''t afford the time to process.


    "Vahrkos." I want to warn him. Guardian of Fate tells me exactly what state Wanders is in; whatever he finds isn''t going to be pretty. The words die on my lips as soon as I see the Firmament rising from him.


    Anger, grief, worry, fear... the colors are so bright I see them even without Firmament Sight. The strength of his emotions cover him in a distorted cloak of power, but one light shines through them all¡ªa shimmering blue.


    Hope.


    I can''t bring myself to snuff it out. It''s nothing I haven''t already told him; he knows Wanders is dead. But I have to admit, I''d feel the same way: if I don''t see it myself, I wouldn''t quite be able to let go.


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    Vahrkos has helped me as much as he feels he can. He''s been thinking about Wanders this entire time. We both know that I''ll end this loop soon, and he''s decided he wants to spend his remaining time with the silverwisp, even if all he finds is a corpse.


    It''s almost uncomfortable how much I understand,


    "Good luck," I say.


    Vahrkos gives me a nod. His eyes meet mine, and I see the smallest flicker of something in them. A question he won''t put to words.


    I nod back; a silent promise. I''ll make all of this right.


    Vahrkos vanishes into the streets. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to put all the chaos around me out of my mind; Ahkelios watches me with concern, but he knows as well as I do that there''s nothing more we can do. Anything I try is just going to be erased as soon as I rewind into the next loops. I just... have to make everything I do do count.


    There''s one more thing I want to do before I rewind time. I have to admit, it''s probably for the best that Vahrkos isn''t following along with me for this one.


    <hr>


    Whisper''s cathedral stands before me, a gleaming, impenetrable fortress of fortified crystal. I know Whisper''s aware of what''s happening. There''s a whirlwind of raw Firmament strong enough that every meteorite that gets remotely close is immediately deflected and sent crashing into the ground.


    And even if I disregard the storm, the Firmament here is in chaos.


    Not a single thread of Firmament survives long enough to make it into the castle proper¡ªit''s ripped apart, torn to shreds long before it can reach Whisper. I can only imagine why. It was bad enough for me to be on the streets, listening to the cries of every citizen of Isthanok as they were torn apart.


    Whisper must have had to listen to everything.


    My range is tiny compared to Whisper''s. She would have had to hear every scared, hiding child, to every person begging for their lives, to the sound of her perfectly crafted city being torn apart. Isthanok is a reflection of Whisper''s vanity, after all¡ªthe crystalline buildings all designed to look like they''re made of glass, a city standing strong despite its apparent fragility.


    Half of those buildings are shattered now. Reinforced or not, they might as well have been made of glass to the might of the Integrators and their raid.


    I sigh and take a step into the storm. Firmament Control wreathes its way around by fingers, the skill''s power coiling around me, but...


    The storm makes way for me. It''s almost as if it knows I''m there¡ªI have to reach out time to time still, to prevent stray strips from cutting into me, but for the most part, it''s almost as if there''s a protective bubble around me.


    I think I can even sense it. It''s barely noticeable at first, visible only in the most violent collisions of Firmament, but there are flickers of familiarity within the storm. On impulse, I activate Firmament Sight, squinting against the chaos of color around me and trying to peer at those flickers.


    There''s nothing for a long moment. Just a storm of power, raging around me. I push the skill harder, trying to remember what it is that this reminds me of¡ªwhy this is so familiar. I can feel the Firmament within me reacting, as if this, for some reason, is important.


    An image comes to mind. A memory of what I saw in Thys and Thaht''s workshop when my Void Inspiration made contact with Hunger Firmament. At the time, I needed a combination of All-Seeing Eye and Firmament Sight just to glimpse into that gap beneath the Firmament.


    Now, it feels like something''s changed. The seedling that Gheraa left with me is reacting to that change¡ªI feel it beginning to sprout and blossom, like the leaves of a flower bending toward the rays of the sun. Gheraa said I would have to feed the ones I make manually, but this isn''t made out of an abandoned skill, this is made out of... well, him.


    And whatever small piece of him remains seems to sense an opportunity. It''s drawing in all the Firmament it can from the pressure that surrounds me, feeding purified Firmament into my core.


    I check the numbers.


    [ Firmament base attunement: 95.2%


    Progress to next phase shift: 73.7% ]


    They''re growing.


    [ Firmament base attunement: 96.6%


    Progress to next phase shift: 82.4% ]


    Rapidly.


    [ Firmament base attunement: 99.5%


    Progress to next phase shift: 92.9% ]


    Almost there.


    It''s only when Ahkelios starts tugging at my collar that I regain enough of my senses to slow down. It takes effort¡ªI have to force the Firmament away from me with Firmament Control, create a second bubble around myself that''s clear of Firmament.


    "Are you okay?" Ahkelios asks, concerned. I nod quietly.


    Now isn''t a good time to push myself to the next layer. The last time that happened, I had to fight a whole internal battle and align my sense of self. With an ongoing raid and a confrontation with Whisper just minutes away, I can''t afford to phase-shift now, as useful as the growth in power might be. If I have to do it, it should at least be after I reset time.


    I take a deep, shuddering breath, then take one last look at the storm around me. Something within my Firmament clicks, as if the growth in my Firmament has unlocked some deeper insight, and I... see.


    [ Mastery of Firmament Sight has improved. ]


    Every so often, in the space between¡ªin that oh-so-ephemeral something I glimpsed that Gheraa claimed was beneath even the lowest layer of Firmament¡ªthere''s a flicker of intent.


    Path, it says. Open.


    The concept of passage.


    That''s Whisper''s intent. I''m not sure how I know that, only that I do. It''s like I''ve managed to peer into a gap that isn''t supposed to exist. A useful gap, at that; I can already envision the uses. If I can tell what an opponent is trying to do before their Firmament even reaches me, then I''ve got an unshakeable advantage.


    As long as I don''t accidentally peer at the authority beneath it all. The thought makes me wince. Even now, I''m steadfastedly ignoring it¡ªI don''t need to pass out again from accidentally taking a look. It wasn''t a pleasant experience the first time.


    I wasn''t expecting to get better at Firmament Sight here, of all places.


    "Um... Ethan?" Ahkelios''s voice is almost timid. It''s a testament to how much the storm is ignoring us that I can hear him clearly¡ªlike we''re in a muted bubble of clear sound. Some of that, granted, is due to my own control over the bubble surrounding us. "Is Whisper letting us through?"


    "Seems like it," I answer. Ahkelios looks like he wants to ask another question, but I shake my head. I need to focus. Even putting aside what just happened, it''s not going to be easy for me to stay calm.


    I know part of what I''m going to find, and that means I have to brace myself for it. I can''t allow myself to be reckless here. This time, I''m holding all the cards. Despite all of Whisper''s many, many faults, she isn''t going to let her city stay destroyed, and right now I''m the only person that can reverse everything that''s happened to Isthanok.


    That means I can make a deal with her. It means I can force her into making a deal on my terms. Her information is incomplete¡ªshe doesn''t know how long I''ve been looping, who my allies are, and it''s unlikely she even knew I was the Trialgoer prior to me showing up on her doorstep.


    She knows now, of course. There''s only one conclusion you can draw when a stranger appears during a raid. I''d be surprised if she thought I was anyone else.


    The only question is whether or not I can stomach making a deal with her while Tarin''s corpse rots away in the room above.

 126 — Book 2, Chapter 63 — Loop 15.1 Part 5

    "Are you his accomplice?"


    Whisper''s first question is blunt. It stuns me, too¡ªnot because of how direct it is, but because of how utterly wrong that assumption is. She stares at me with her arms folded behind her back, her stance regal; if this had been my first time meeting her, I might have assumed that all was well.


    Except this isn''t how she acts. Whisper doesn''t use pomp and ceremony. She''s condescending and sarcastic. Her words belittle everyone she speaks to. Regality is not her.


    She''s afraid.


    Whisper''s control of her Firmament is far more precise than Vahrkos''s, and so it''s no surprise that it takes an activation of Firmament Sight for me to be able to identify what she''s feeling. But the moment I do, I see the absolute chaos within her.


    There''s no single ruling emotion I can pinpoint. There are layers and layers of fear, exactly as I suspected. There is rage, white-hot and boiling in the very center of her soul. There are streaks of grief, anxiety, loss. There is pain, rippling all around the edges, as her helplessness chafes against the ruination of her city.


    And there''s much, much more. What I''m seeing is nothing less than an obsession falling apart. She''s spent so long trying to make Isthanok her perfect city, and now it''s being destroyed in front of her.


    I feel for the people of Isthanok, but I can''t bring myself to feel sympathy for Whisper herself. That died along with Tarin. I don''t even know exactly how it happened¡ªI''ll have to ask him when I start the next subloop¡ªbut right now, no matter what I see from her, I have to fight back my own burning rage at the thought of Tarin''s death.


    Because I can feel him. He might be dead, but there are remnants of his Firmament still left scattered in the laboratory above us. I can tell he fought. I can tell his death wasn''t pleasant. If I wanted to, I could use Guardian of Fate, and it would tell me every last, gruesome detail.


    That isn''t going to help me stay calm, though.


    "Does it matter?" I ask. My voice comes out a little colder than I intend. "Your city is falling apart. Aren''t you supposed to protect it?"


    All the chaos of Whisper''s emotions snap to rage, all at once. "Ask me that again if you wish to die."


    I take a step forward. "Your city is dying. Why are you staying up here, protected?"


    I''m antagonizing her. I''m angrier than I should be. Ahkelios tightens his grip on my shoulder, as if telling me to calm down, and I...


    I try. I take a deep breath. Whisper trembles as she stares down at me, her Firmament flickering wildly as she considers whether or not she should attack.


    "Kill me, and your city dies with me," I say.


    Her eyes narrow. "Explain."


    I don''t feel inclined to go into the details. "I can reverse what''s been done to your city," I say instead.


    "You know where the Trialgoer is." Whisper half-breathes out the words; I have to resist the urge to sigh with relief. I don''t know how she''s managed to misunderstand the situation this badly, but she clearly has. Maybe it has something to do with something Tarin said to her before he died. "Why would you have any control?"


    Before I answer, I feel her skill wrap around me. "And tell me the truth."


    "Because I can kill him, and the Trial will reset," I say. I feel Ahkelios''s grip tighten a little on my shoulders, and I can''t help the slight grin that steals across my face; there''s no lie quite as good as the truth.


    "That won''t be enough." Whisper''s words are dismissive, bitter. "This is a raid. All consequences will hold."


    "True enough." I keep my voice light and unconcerned, though internally, my mind is racing. She knows that this is a raid, which explains the severity of her reaction¡ª but she doesn''t know that I''m the Trialgoer. I''m not going to question my luck there. I''ll have to play a different card. "In most cases."


    "Most?" Whisper doesn''t have eyes to narrow, but she steps forward, and I feel a sharp spike in interest.


    "Most," I say agreeably. "What do you think changes if one of our Trialgoers is able to capture this new one?"


    "What are you talking abo¡ª" She-Who-Whispers freezes mid-sentence as she makes the connection. I see her entire body shudder, a physical reaction to the mere thought. "Teluwat."


    "Quite." I have to keep the satisfaction out of my voice.


    What are you doing? Ahkelios''s panicked voice echoes down my link. What are you talking about?


    I have no idea, I admit cheerfully. But it''s working, isn''t it?


    How?! Ahkelios demands, sounding painfully exasperated. I can practically feel it radiating off of him, in fact.


    I''m guessing Tarin said something to her, I answer. Whisper stands before us, her hands clenching and unclenching; something''s going through her mind, although I don''t know what. Watch. All I need to do is plant the seed.


    You aren''t even using the Firmament sink, Ahkelios grumbles. What was the point in making that?


    I''m sure I''ll need to use it later. I shrug. I haven''t had to lie so far.


    But how''d you know she''d even think about Teluwat? Ahkelios asks.


    She''s obsessed with everything that happens in Isthanok, I say. I doubt there''s anything here that happens that she doesn''t know about. If Teluwat has enough of a presence here to send assassins after me, then she''s going to at least have an inkling that he''s around. And he''s the only one that has enough power that he might be able to reverse something like this even without a loop. That I know of.


    Ahkelios falls silent. I can feel him still gripping at my shoulder, but he''s lost in thought, and whatever he''s thinking about, he isn''t sharing. I reach up to scratch gently under his chin.


    ...I''m not a pet, you know, he grumbles, after a solid ten seconds of scratching. I stop, and Ahkelios immediately protests. I didn''t say stop.


    I snort and continue.


    "Teluwat can rewrite the fundamental truth of the Firmament he influences," She-Who-Whispers mutters. She isn''t even paying attention to either of us; instead, she''s pacing about on the floor. Firmament lashes out of her in strips of agitated red, and I pretend not to be concerned by the way they crack the ground beneath her. "If he gains access to the current Trialgoer... You''re telling me he can rewrite the Interface?"


    "I''m not telling you anything about anything he may or may not be able to do," I say, which is true. She-Who-Whispers lets out a snarl in response, but continues pacing; she still isn''t attacking me.


    "He can''t. It shouldn''t be possible," she mutters. "There are failsafes. They''re only disabled for graduated Trialgoers. You can''t interfere with the Interface of an active Trialgoer. Even if you could, the Interface is too complex to directly interfere with like that. But... if it''s just a single variable..."


    Disabled for graduated Trialgoers? Ahkelios picks up on the phrasing the same time I do, and we glance at one another. Interesting.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Nothing I can do with that information right now, but it''s useful to know.


    "One variable," I agree. "The number of times a raid can be retried, for instance."


    Whisper snaps.


    She moves like liquid. It''s fast enough that it stuns me¡ªI''ve never seen her move like this, even the last time we fought. It''s like she melts, turning into a blaze of pure-white Firmament that shoots toward me; when she reforms, there''s a razor-sharp blade of Firmament in place of her hand, and it''s pointed directly at my neck.


    "I hope, for your sake, that you aren''t lying."


    Her voice is trembling. There''s no semblance of regal composure. I may not be familiar with silverwisp physiology, but with the way pieces of her form drip from her face to the ground, it looks almost like she''s crying.


    "You couldn''t care less about me," I say. "You just want it to be true for yourself."


    She-Who-Whispers doesn''t react, and neither does the Whisper she''s planted within me.


    "What do we need to do?" she asks.


    "As soon as the next loop begins, you need to join in the efforts to fend off the raid," I say. "And you cannot kill Tarin."


    Whisper laughs, the sound a little bit broken. "The bird?" she asks. "And how am I supposed to stop myself? I don''t get to keep my memories across loops."


    "You can leave yourself messages, can''t you?"


    "I need to know to check for it." She-Who-Whispers scowls. "The Integrators do not favor their graduates. They are interested in the success of their Trialgoers."


    I have to refrain from scoffing. From everything I''ve seen during my Trial, the Integrators very much favor the Hestian Trialgoers, and they aren''t that interested in making sure I succeed. From what Gheraa''s told me, She-Who-Whispers is probably right, but if they care that I succeed...


    Well, they''ve got a funny way of showing it.


    "Then I will make sure you check," I say. "If you give me a way to make you check."


    "Just..." Whisper takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Just tell me: two rings. I''ll know I sent you."


    I keep my expression impassive. "Write your note," I say. "The timeline will reset soon."


    Whisper goes silent. I see her Firmament flaring up around her as she wills her thoughts into her Interface. I walk past her.


    "What are you doing?" Whisper stops for a moment, glaring at me.


    "Going to see the bird you killed," I reply. Anger bleeds through my Firmament, and it''s heavy enough that Whisper actually flinches. I don''t bother holding it back.


    That is more of a lie than anything else I''ve said. I let Whisper''s Firmament bleed into the completed Firmament sink, dissipating harmlessly as a mixture of heat and faint tingles along my leg.


    It''s not Tarin that I want to see.


    <hr>


    Guard''s body lies on the table in the center of Whisper''s lab. His Firmament pulses faintly within the body that''s been constructed for him¡ªhe''s still alive, to my relief. I don''t know the exact mechanisms by which the Interface resets time, nor do I know why some forms of Firmament damage and exhaustion carry over and others don''t, but I do know that Guard''s particular form of it won''t be reversed along with the rest of the timeline.


    It''s pretty clear from how weak his Firmament is. He isn''t going to recover naturally.


    "Why are we here?" Ahkelios whispers to me. I glance over at him, then sigh.


    "Tarin was talking to him before he died," I say. I walk over to Guard, taking a closer look at the mechanical body and the Firmament glowing within. "I need to know what they talked about."


    "Talked?" Ahkelios stares at Guard. "Um."


    "Yeah, I''m wondering how he did it, too," I mutter. I don''t have any skills that would help me talk to someone that''s unconscious. The closest thing I have to that is the link I share with Ahkelios through Temporal Link, and that''s not something I know how to replicate with a stranger.


    Although...


    "Ahkelios," I say. "You''ve fused with one of my skills before, haven''t you?"


    "What?" Ahkelios blinks. "I mean, yes, but what does that have to do with..."


    He trails off, and there''s a long beat before he continues. "You want me to try to fuse with him?"


    "You can do it, can''t you?"


    "I think so." Ahkelios shifts a little on my shoulder, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. "I don''t think I''d be able to do it with most people, but Guard is... he doesn''t have the protective layer of Firmament most people do. It''s just his core. So I could."


    "You don''t want to," I say. To my surprise, Ahkelios shakes his head, staring at Guard''s body.


    "I want to help him," Ahkelios says. He sounds a little like he surprises even himself with the words. "But as he is, he can''t defend himself."


    "Don''t force it," I suggest. "Just... offer. See if he accepts."


    Ahkelios nods slowly. "I can do that," he says. He steps forward, standing on Guard''s chest, and reaches a hand out to make contact with the automaton''s Firmament core.


    Guard''s acceptance is so quick it surprises the both of us. Temporal Link fills out the metaphorical space between our minds, allowing us to talk to one another with a freedom we''ve never actually had before. In an instant, he learns who I am, the situation we''re in, and what I''ve been trying to do.


    And I learn about him. Who he was, who he is, and who he''s still trying to be.


    You don''t need to save me. That''s the first thing Guard tells me. I can hear the sheer exhaustion in his voice. I''ve lived for far longer than I should have.


    To be fair, I''m not sure most of that could be called living, I say dryly. It''s a little snarkier than I intend for what''s technically our first proper interaction, but to my surprise, Guard actually chuckles. There''s a bitter tinge to his amusement.


    I cannot disagree with you, he admits. I suppose it''s hardly important at the moment. Isthanok is in crisis.


    I have to admit, I''m impressed that Guard''s first thought is still the safety of Isthanok and its people. If I''d been trapped in my own body, puppeted around as a guard for an entire city, I doubt I''d be feeling nearly so charitable.


    Tarin spoke to you, I say.


    He said you wanted to save me. Guard says the words, and I feel a warmth flow through the connection we share, along with a series of impressions. He''s... letting me in? Letting me see who and what he is.


    Guard is incomplete. He''s half a soul, held together by Firmament and by Miktik''s artifiical core operating like makeshift neurons for an ephemeral consciousness.


    But he''s no less of a person. He feels, and he feels strongly. I can feel his exhaustion, his willingness to let go¡ªand I can also feel the fire within him, the part of him that wants to live.


    Perhaps more surprising is the fact that that fire appears to have been stoked by meeting me. It''s not a conscious memory anymore, but I sense the subconscious impressions. Fleeting images and thoughts of a Trialgoer being shaped by his Trials, surprise at my resilience, an odd fondness as he catches on to what I''ve been doing through the loops.


    An imprint written into his Firmament. He''s so weak, lacking even the most basic of protection, that the events of the loops stay written into his Firmament. He remembers. Not so long ago, it was a lucid memory¡ªwhen Whisper still controlled him, he could remember everything, even when time rewound. But as he lost more and more of himself, he remembered less and less.


    But the impressions remain. The feelings, if not the memories themselves. Fragments. Observation, then admiration.


    A Trialgoer willing to defy the Integrators. A Trialgoer clinging to morality.


    He doesn''t want what happened to Whisper to happen again. He wants to live. He wants to help.


    I do want to save you, I answer quietly, and then equally quiet, I add, but I don''t know how. I would wait until after this raid to figure it out, but...


    Guard knows it just as well as I do. Whisper set him up to be able to control multiple bodies; even now, Guard''s proxies are scattered all over the city of Isthanok. Whisper''s been straining herself loop after loop, even if she isn''t consciously aware of the fact that she''s doing so¡ªshe can''t push herself to keep control of every one of those bodies to protect the city.


    But Guard can. He''s my best answer on how to minimize the casualties here. If I can figure this out within the few loops I have, Isthanok might be able to emerge from this... well, not unscathed, but less scathed than it otherwise would have been.


    I take a breath. What condition do you have, exactly?


    My Firmament is unstable, Guard replies. Your friend told me you''d be able to figure out more. Maybe even fix it.


    Fix it? I frown at the thought. It implies this is something I know how to do already, but it''s not like I''ve spent any of my loops practicing with the medical applications of Firmament¡ª


    ¡ªbut I have been practicing with Firmament. Quite a lot. More than would be reasonable for most Trialgoers. The thought strikes me and I reach out with my Firmament sense, almost unwilling to believe it could be so easy, but for once, things go my way.


    I''m right.


    It''s the layers. Guard''s foundational Firmament is so strong that the outermost layers of it have peeled off, leaving it raw and exposed; it''s no longer able to keep itself together.


    But I''ve practiced with almost exactly this. The process of finding a way to keep power locked within layers of Firmament without leaking through is exactly the process I''ve been working with when it comes to imbuement.


    This is going to take me a while, I say. And you''re going to need to trust me.


    I do, Guard says. Sincerity echoes through the link¡ªhe means it.


    "Ahkelios?" I speak out loud. "Make sure Whisper doesn''t mess me up."


    "What?" Ahkelios protests. "How am I supposed to stop her?"


    "Tell her that Guard will die if I get interrupted," I say dryly. "That should make her rethink doing anything stupid."

 127 — Book 2, Chapter 64 — Loop 15.2 Part 1

    I''m back in the laboratory. I let out a breath of relief¡ªI wasn''t sure how far back the skill would be able to take me. For the first time, I''ve been able to feel the process of time whirling back around me, and I''ve had to keep an eye on the stability of a skill while doing so.


    This is as far back as I can take myself before it begins to fall apart. If I bring myself back this far, I should be able to use the skill another three times. Push it any further and I can only use it once.


    Good to know.


    The procedure with He-Who-Guards... worked, I think. I''m actually not sure, and I''m not going to know for another reset or two at the very least. The process was taxing on us both¡ªthe Firmament of a person is a lot more complicated than the Firmament of a stone¡ªand Whisper getting steadily more agitated in the background didn''t really help things.


    It should have worked, but Guard will need a couple hours to recover and regain consciousness either way, which is when I''ll find out for sure. I sigh, glancing down at my hand. They''re still trembling with adrenaline, which is strange, considering I shouldn''t have any right now.


    "That was close, huh?" Ahkelios comments, trying to make his voice light. I shoot him a look.


    "You think?" I had activated Once More Into the Fray only moments before Whisper lost control and attacked. "I guess we know for sure what happened with Tarin."


    "Is he okay now?" Ahkelios asks anxiously. I nod.


    "According to Guardian of Fate, he''s fine," I say. "We need to help Wanders this loop. We''ll get back to Tarin on the next one."


    "Doesn''t that mean he''s going to die again?" Ahkelios protests. "He remembers these loops, it''s not like you''re rewinding him too!"


    "He won''t die again." I have to double-check with Guardian of Fate to be sure, but it''s not pinging me with the same sense of danger¡ªTarin''s said everything he needed to last loop, and it seems he''s going to spend this one playing it safe with Whisper. "I''m going to cast Temporal Link. Can you make sure my echo works the way we want it to?"


    "I''m not sure I can actually get that far from you," Ahkelios says cautiously.


    "You can." It''s not something we''ve tested, but with the latest fragment that Ahkelios has integrated, I can tell he''s now strong enough to leave my side for a short period of time. He''ll have to come back within my range eventually, but as long as we stay within the confines of Isthanok, I doubt it''ll be an issue.


    Ahkelios shoots me a look. "If you say so," he says. His voice is a little hesitant, and once again I pick up on the fact that there''s something he hasn''t told me¡ªsomething he wants to talk about.


    "If you can''t, we''ll figure it out," I say, smiling at him. "I trust you."


    Ahkelios stiffens a little on my shoulder. I feel his claws grip into the fabric of my shirt tightly for a moment before he forces himself to relax, and despite not needing to breathe, I can sense him taking slow, deep breaths, as if to calm himself down. I say nothing. Whatever this is, he''ll tell me when he''s ready.


    "Thank you," he says quietly.


    I glance back to the Interface. It''s not going to be quiet for long¡ªthe raid is due to begin any moment now, and this is my chance to check on the notifications I received last fight. There are a few registered defeats of the living meteors, apparently named "Meateors", which I promptly ignore.


    And then there''s the one about Anhar.


    [ You have defeated Anhar the Unspoken (Rank S)! +331 Strength credits. +121 Durability credits. +201 Reflex credits. +85 Speed credits. +120 Firmament credits. ]


    I almost flinch when I see the numbers. Apparently, the Interface considered him a Rank S threat, which is... higher than I expected. I wonder if it takes into account the sheer arsenal he had at his disposal. It feels like he was easier to defeat than some of the Guilty Chimeras that now infest Tarin''s home, but I did have to use one of his own weapons against him. And I had Varhkos''s help. If I''d had to fight him alone, I don''t think the fight would have gone nearly as smoothly.


    "The Unspoken, huh?" I mutter. I wonder if that''s a part of morphling naming schemes that I don''t know about. "Guess that fits."


    "Do you feel bad?" Ahkelios asks. "About killing him."


    "I don''t know," I answer. "I don''t think I know how to feel about it. But I feel worse about killing the frogs than I do about killing him."


    "Yeah, that makes sense," Ahkelios says. I can tell there''s a lot on his mind.


    I put the credits to the side for the time being. The Interface seems to give me skills that are relevant either to my current situation or to what I''ve been doing¡ªif I can hold on to my credits for a little longer, I might be able to get more skills related to rewinding and manipulating time. That''s going to be one of the only advantages I''ll have over the Integrators, so I plan to build on that as much as I can.


    The good news is that I have enough credits to guarantee the quality of my skills. I''ll bank them when I have to.


    The thought strikes me that I''m probably going to have to before this raid is over, and I grimace.


    In the background, Bimar clears her throat. I look up to see her leaning against a nearby wall; she stares at me and slowly, rather pointedly begins tapping her foot impatiently on the ground. Her expression remains perfectly deadpan all the while. "Do either of you want to explain what you''re talking about?" she asks.


    I grimace. Right. "It''s complicated," I say. "I don''t suppose you managed to find out anything about Miktik?"


    "What are you talking about?" Bimar frowns at me.


    "Long story. We don''t have much time." I''m going to need to remember to try to catch up with Bimar before the end of this loop. "Try to see if you can find Miktik and figure out what she''s up to. Be careful. The city''s under attack."


    "It''s under what?" Bimar asks, straightening; a look of horror flashes into her expression. "You can''t just¡ª"


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    "If you head up there, be careful," I interrupt. "Look, the Integrators are messing with the Trial, and I''m only going to have a few tries to get this right. I need to make sure He-Who-Wanders doesn''t die, but I haven''t been able to figure out what''s going on with Miktik, and my skills can''t reach her. Can you find her, and then meet up with me at, say, her workshop?"


    It''s a much clearer set of instructions than I''d had the mind to give her last time. Bimar''s expression sharpens abruptly as I explain, and she nods.


    "You said the city''s under attack," she says, all business. "What kind?"


    "Living meteorites, basically. Nearly invulnerable to blunt attacks. They target buildings and strong sources of Firmament."


    "Living¡ª" Bimar interrupts herself and scowls. "Got it. I think I''ve got an idea where she is. If it''s interfering with your skills, then she''s probably somewhere in the Integrator scrapyard."


    She has mentioned something about that once. "Where is that?" I ask. Just in case. Bimar gives me a look, but answers me anyway.


    "It''s north of Isthanok," she says. "Not far off from here, actually. I''ll avoid the city and head there through the forest. It''s not hard to spot¡ªlook for a door so big it''s taller than the trees."


    "A... door?" I start. "Not a buildi¡ªyou know what, never mind. I''ll figure this out later. I''ll see you at Miktik''s."


    "If I can''t make it back to her workshop, I''ll come back here," Bimar says. "You just make sure Wanders is safe."


    "I will."


    It helps that I know what to expect now. Not as much as I want it to, but it helps.


    I activate Temporal Link. A temporal clone peels off from me, darting off in Vahrkos''s direction; Ahkelios gives me a hesitant glance, then follows after it. I turn my attention to He-Who-Wanders and check with Guardian of Fate.


    Five minutes until he dies.


    I''ll get there in two.


    <hr>


    He-Who-Wanders swallowed. He wasn''t sure how he''d gotten into this situation¡ªwell, he knew how he''d gotten into this situation, he just didn''t know how he''d allowed it to get this far. He was being clever! And it had even worked, at least in the sense that he''d been able to invoke Whisper''s name and hadn''t gotten instantly smited for it.


    He was lucky, he knew. If Whisper had been paying any amount of attention, he''d be on the ground and writhing in pain by now. The problem was that he hadn''t really been ready with any sort of followup, and he was rapidly running out of things he could pretend to know about.


    On the plus side, he hadn''t come out of this without any information! If Ethan had been telling the truth about the whole time loop thing¡ªwhich seemed ridiculous, but if Miktik was willing to play along with it, then so was he¡ªthen all he needed to do was hand this information off to Ethan and he''d be safe.


    ...


    Well, a different version of him would be safe. This version of him was still going to die. Or he''d at least experience a death, and that was sounding very much like something he didn''t want to experience, even if it would be getting undone later.


    Gods, now was not the time to be getting into his own head about the existential ramifications of time loops.


    "Sir?" the merchant in front of him prompted, a touch of impatience in his tone. "Are they to the liking of our esteemed leader or not?"


    He-Who-Wanders did his best to stop himself from jumping and responded in his best authoritative voice. "Patience," he said. "She-Who-Whispers is a busy woman. She cannot respond immediately."


    Internally, he was just trying to memorize as much of the briefcase in front of him as he could. There were a series of vials, each filled with liquid and labeled with a serial number and a supposed effect; the names of them were rather silly, in his opinion. Critical Juncture. Orb Weaver. Snap Retort. What were any of these even supposed to mean?


    The merchant clicked in annoyance. "Silverwisps," he rasped. He-Who-Wanders ignored it, though he wondered if the merchant had to deal with silverwisps particularly often. He didn''t recognize the man''s species, and that was rare; the Great Cities were a hub for worlds that had been integrated by the Interface, and by the very nature of his job and tendencies, He-Who-Wanders had met pretty much every species from the connected worlds.


    But he''d never seen anything like this merchant. The man looked like he was made of sludge¡ªgreen, viscous goop held together by sedimentary stone and fractured Firmament. It would have been fascinating were it not for the way the merchant hung over him. A few drops of that sludge came uncomfortably close to hitting Wanders more than once, and he couldn''t help but suspect it was some kind of threat display.


    "I''m starting to suspect you''re not who you say you are, you know," the merchant said.


    "If I wasn''t, Whisper would already have punished me."


    "Hmm." The merchant rumbled and loomed even closer; Wander tried desperately not to shrink away, though at this point he was practically being caged against the wall. He didn''t fail to notice the way the goop was starting to circle him. "Maybe you made sure she''s occupied, hmm? Maybe she has other matters on her mind."


    Wander''s Firmament guttered nervously. That... was quite possibly true. Especially since half the reason they were doing this now was because Whisper was distracted trying to figure out what the Trialgoer was attempting to do in her city. "Take it up with her, if you''re that concerned," he said, trying his best to sound dismissive.


    "Or you could pass a simple test," the merchant suggested, lowering his voice into something resembling an acidic purr. Acidic in the literal sense. Wander watched as the liquid from the merchant''s mouth ate into the ground. "I''m sure Whisper has told you my name?"


    Wander froze. He had no idea what this guy''s name was. "Of course she did," he said, trying to buy time.


    The merchant laughed. The sound made Wander flicker with discomfort; it sounded like a gust of wind blowing out a candle. "That''s funny," he said, darkly amused, "because I''ve never told your little leader my name. Us Disconnected have to be quite discreet, you see."


    Wander tried to run.


    Tried.


    The merchant''s body melted, then rose up and swept around him, trapping him in place. Wander bounced off, falling to the ground and letting out a hiss of pain.


    "Oh, I do so love it when it hurts," the merchant teased. "And since you''re about to die anyway, I suppose I can tell you my name. If you beg me for mercy, I might make this hurt less."


    The worst part about this, Wander decided, was that his killer was apparently the talkative type.


    Also that he wouldn''t be able to get any information back to the others before he died. That was annoying, too. But if he had to experience a death that would be retroactively pulled out of time, he would''ve preferred it if his killer wasn''t the creepy, talkative type. There was a reason he liked Vahrkos; the man didn''t like talking very much.


    He wondered briefly if he''d already died like this before. They were supposedly in a time loop, after all. Who knew how many times Ethan might have tried this?


    "It''s Tekk," the merchant said. His body contracted once around Wander, walls of acid closing around him. "You''ll scream it for me, won''t you¡ª"


    Tekk''s voice cut off into a scream of pain. Wander jumped, taking a step away from the fist that had suddenly appeared in the wall, lit green from the light of Tekk''s body.


    There was a sickening, tearing sound, and then Ethan''s face appeared, also lit green. Wander had never been quite so relieved to see a meat creature that wasn''t Vahrkos.


    "Dude''s kind of a creep, huh?" Ethan said by way of greeting. He tore the hole open with a flare of Firmament, then held a hand out to Wander. "Sorry I took so long. I got a little held up."

 128 — Book 2, Chapter 65 — Loop 15.2 Part 2

    To say that Wander is unhappy about the Integrators'' raid is... a bit of an understatement.


    "You''re telling me I could have died permanently," he says, shuddering. "Being eaten!"


    "We don''t know that he was eating you," I say, trying to placate him.


    In retrospect, I could probably have phrased that better. Wander turns to glare at me. "That does not make it better," he hisses.


    "Sorry."


    He grumbles under his breath, and I return to my temporary job of keeping an eye out for any meteors headed in our direction. The pulsating mass that was surrounding Wander when I found him was apparently named Tekk, but he''d fortunately proven not to be much of a problem. After I punched a hole through him, he just melted, pouring through the gaps in the floor and leaving behind a crumbling set of vaguely limb-shaped stones.


    Of course, the lack of an Interface notification tells me he''s still alive. I''m guessing he just chose to run rather than fight. Smart decision, on his part. I could have tried chasing after him, but there''s a limit to how much I can do in these loops. Tracking down a runaway merchant just doesn''t seem like it''s as much of a concern as the meteors threatening to destroy the city.


    That said, I slightly regret that decision when Wander tells me about what he''s learned.


    Critical Juncture, Orb Weaver, and Snap Retort. Two of those names aren''t familiar to me, but the third one is¡ªit''s a skill the Interface once offered to me. Those vials are Interface skills, more likely than not. It means Anhar''s usage of imbuement stones likely isn''t a one-off. Whisper''s looking into ways to grant people the abilities the Interface would normally grant them.


    "Not just Whisper, I bet," Wander mutters beside me. He''s staring back into the building, doing his best to ignore the meteors falling overhead. "He sounded like he was selling to others."


    "Other Trialgoers?" I ask.


    "Maybe," Wander says. "But they won''t be the only ones interested in this kind of tech."


    I wince. "Don''t get me wrong, letting more people get skills isn''t a bad thing, but..."


    "You need the Interface to control the skills properly, right?" Wander doesn''t look at me, but the way he taps his foot nervously on the ground tells me he has more experience with the subject matter than I might expect. "I didn''t realize they were skills."


    "You''ve seen people try to use skills without the Interface before?" I ask.


    "Bimar has." Wander''s voice is grim.


    Right. The lab experiments. "Result wasn''t pretty, I take it."


    "She brought back pictures." Wander scowls a little. "I asked her not to."


    I can only imagine.


    Tekk, fortunately, wasn''t able to take the vials with him. He did manage to shatter half of them, more by sheer luck than anything else¡ªone of his pieces had fallen into the still-open briefcase when I punched him¡ªbut a good half of the vials were still intact.


    "You''re sure they''re safe... wherever you put them?" Wander asks me, concerned. I shrug.


    "They''re as safe as they can be," I say.


    They''re in the Empty City dungeon, along with the rations Mari gave me ages ago and everything else I''ve thrown in there. I''m starting to wonder if I should even try to complete it, at this point¡ªit''s proving more useful to me as an inventory than as anything else.


    I probably should. Eventually. It''s clearly got some answers in there that I want. Maybe if I get myself an actual inventory skill first, preferably one that doesn''t mean I''m risking life and limb every time I open it. I haven''t been attacked by anything inside it so far, but if Ahkelios is right, then it''s only a matter of time.


    "You said Tekk called himself a Disconnected?" I ask Wander, partly to distract him and partly to distract myself. I can tell the situation is getting to him, though he''s doing a good job of hiding it. The ethereal Firmament that makes up his body just occasionally flickers. If it weren''t for Firmament Sight letting me see the flickers of yellow emanating from him, I wouldn''t be able to tell how scared he is.


    "Yeah." Wander doesn''t meet my gaze. He stares up into the sky instead, though he flinches and glances away when a meteor strikes one of the floating crystal citadels, shattering a tower and sending massive shards down to scatter over the city. "He didn''t say anything about what that means, though."


    "If he won''t tell Whisper his name because of it..." I frown. Disconnected. "The goal of Integration¡ªor the purported goal¡ªis to connect a series of worlds to the Integrators. Once a planet is fully Integrated, it''s not just connected to the Interface. It''s connected to the Integrators themselves. Maybe that''s what Disconnected means?"


    "A person or a planet that''s disconnected themselves from the Integrators and their connected worlds?" Wander asks. "I mean... maybe. It''d explain the need for secrecy."


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    "What was it like?" I ask. "Integration."


    Wander sighs. "I don''t remember," he says. "No one does. It''s like the Integrators have always been here. They can show up anywhere, at any time... I mean, they never do, of course. But I know they can. Every Hestian does. It''s like it''s written into our history."


    That''s news. And worryingly similar to Teluwat''s abilities, now that I think about it.


    I wonder if the Integrators had that ability before Teluwat.


    "Can''t say that''s encouraging," I mutter.


    "No, but..." Wander trails off, hesitating a moment before he continues. "If it''s possible to disconnect..."


    "Right," I say. "Tekk''s obviously evil, but he''s given us some pretty valuable information. If a group like the Disconnected exist, then that means Integration might not be permanent."


    "It means there''s hope," Wander says. He doesn''t say anything else, but I do see his Firmament grow a little brighter, a little more stable.


    I smile slightly. It does, doesn''t it? I''ve been engaged in the Integrators'' games for so long that I''ve almost forgotten the bigger picture.


    Still, these Disconnected are pretty secretive. Even Gheraa hasn''t said anything about them, and if they won''t even reveal their own names, then tracking them down is going to be harder than I''d like.


    They''re dangerous, that much is clear. Even Tekk is dangerous. Any enemy smart enough to run when they''re outmatched is an enemy I need to be concerned about.


    But maybe they won''t all have to be my enemies.


    For now, though, I''m stuck playing babysitter. Wander can''t handle these meteors on his own, and it''s too dangerous for me to leave him until we''ve met up with Vahrkos. The best we can do is make our way through the streets toward him.


    Speaking of which.


    I leap up to knock one away, gritting my teeth against the Dispel that bursts out of it as I do so. The amount of Firmament each one takes just to push away is... bothersome. I can''t keep this up forever, and clearing the raid is still an unsolved problem. Even with Whisper''s help, and that''s assuming she keeps her promise.


    "Are you okay?" Wander asks, his voice concerned.


    "I''m fine." My breathing is a little ragged, but so far, this is nothing I can''t handle. "I need the practice. If I need a break, I''ll just carry you and dodge them."


    "Oh." Wander apparently hadn''t even considered that possibility. His voice emerges more nervously than I would have expected. "Uh... let me know if you need a break?"


    I raise an eyebrow a bit. "I will," I say. My attention goes back to the sky, scanning the number of meteors raining down on the city.


    I can''t be completely sure, but I''m guessing this raid is specifically designed to drain me of my Firmament reserves. It''s smart¡ªthat''s one of the strategies that''ll work against me across loops. Even if they aren''t aware of what Gheraa''s given me, they''re making sure I can''t just brute force the problem if I find a way around their limitations.


    And yet beating one away doesn''t take as much Firmament as it did before. I''m getting better at this. More to the point, I''m even closer to the next phase-shift, and the qualitative changes to my Firmament are starting to noticeably affect the performance of all my skills.


    [ Firmament base attunement: 98.2%


    Progress to next phase shift: 90.7% ]


    The construct Gheraa left within me is still operating, albeit a little slower. I could push it, I sense¡ªforce an evolution of my Firmament here and now¡ªbut there''s still too much danger lying around. I need to wait until I''m actually safe, and not likely to be, say, hit by a meteor while undergoing a change so fundamental.


    The thought itches at me, though. Holding back at such a crucial time makes me feel like I''m making a mistake. It''s not like I can''t hide away in the lab and use a loop just to deepen my Firmament.


    We don''t know how long it''ll take. Ahkelios chooses this moment to pipe in through our bond. Apparently, he''s been listening in. Wait until I''m there, at least.


    How''s the Link going? I ask. It''s been a while since I''ve been able to get an update from him. Is Vahrkos okay?


    Your skill is busted, Ahkelios grumbles back at me through the link, but I can feel the relief in his voice. Vahrkos is fine. Your Temporal Link copies every event that happens. There''s a copy of me fighting with you, so I''m staying back and out of sight to make sure nothing changes.


    I breathe a sigh of relief. That should mean I''m free to rely entirely on the skill, provided Whisper doesn''t throw anything off. I can do that by getting her support only after both Vahrkos and Wander are safe¡ªin other words, pretty much what I''m already doing.


    As for the phase-shift... I''ll do it with Tarin and the others nearby, in case I need something external to help the shift along. Who knows. It helped the first time. I think Gheraa would have mentioned it if it had, though.


    We should be there soon, Ahkelios adds. We just beat Anhar and your copy''s briefed Vahrkos on the situation. You should cancel the skill so I can update him.


    I take that in, then cancel the skill. I can feel Ahkelios''s amusement across our link¡ªapparently, Vahrkos was not particularly pleased with the way my copy vanished in front of him. He calms down a little when Ahkelios explains the situation, and in no time at all, he''s on his way to meet us.


    It actually doesn''t take long at all for him to show up. I shouldn''t be surprised, I suppose¡ªWander and I have made it more than halfway toward the military base just going through the streets.


    What does surprise me is how emotional Vahrkos looks when he sees Wander safe and sound. I see him start to run, then force himself to slow down and walk at a normal pace, practically grinding his teeth the entire time. Then he comes to a stop in front of Wander and just... stands there awkwardly.


    Eventually, Vahrkos manages to force out some words. "I was worried," he grunts.


    Ahkelios flies back to my shoulder. "He was a lot more than just worried!" he declares loudly, making the morphling flinch and glare. "You should have seen his face when I told him you almost died," he whispers to Wander.


    It''s not really a whisper. He says it more than loud enough for everyone to hear him.


    Wander, fortunately, isn''t nearly as awkward as Vahrkos is. He drags the morphling into an open hug, squeezing him so tight I''m almost worried his carapace will crack. I smirk a bit at the sight¡ªevidently, Wander''s braver than Vahrkos in at least one respect.


    As much as I''d like to give them their moment, though, I''m a little pressed for time. "Vahrkos, I need to get going. Can you keep Wander safe?"


    "These things will not come near him," Vahrkos says. "Your friend has briefed me on the situation. We''ll seek out Thys and Thaht and ensure they remain safe as well."


    That''s one weight off my chest. I give him a grateful nod. If Vahrkos is going to handle Thys and Thaht¡ªthough if I''m being honest, I''m half-expecting their massive suit of armor to suddenly burst through a building at any moment, considering this is the perfect situation for it¡ªthen I may as well meet up with Bimar.


    Assuming I can find her, anyway. First stop: Miktik''s workshop.

 129 — Book 2, Chapter 66 — Loop 15.2 Part 3

    Miktik''s workshop is empty, which is more or less what I was expecting, though I was hoping it wouldn''t be. I look around, trying to glimpse any signs of activity. It doesn''t look like anyone''s been here since the last time we convened in the area.


    "Think Bimar''s back at the lab?" I ask out loud, glancing at Ahkelios.


    "That, or she hasn''t had enough time to get here," Ahkelios points out. "It''s only been about an hour."


    "Right," I say, slightly embarrassed. It feels like it''s been a lot more than an hour, but maybe that''s because of the number of things happening around me. Guardian of Fate isn''t giving me anything new, either about Tarin or about Bimar, which means that for the time being I have... nothing to do.


    Well, not really. I have plenty I can do, but Guard isn''t awake yet, and I don''t intend to bring Whisper in this loop since that allows me to act without worrying about her listening in. Miktik''s workshop is secure, but not secure enough that I''m willing to risk trying to phase-shift right here and now.


    Now''s probably the best time for me to test out strategies to clear the raid. If Guard and Whisper aren''t able to help me as much as I hope, I''ll need to make sure I have a fallback of some sort.


    ...so I go outside and begin to fill the air with Timestrikes. As many as I can without depleting my Firmament, anyway.


    Ahkelios just watches me, bemused. "Are you sure this is going to do anything?"


    "Nope." I Timestrike the air again, in the rough trajectory of a meteor, and watch as the meteor enters its path. "But I''m also using this to figure out the timing of these things."


    Sure enough, the meteor crosses the path of my Timestrike the same moment it activates. There''s a muffled roar of pain, and I feel the Firmament in the meteor snap abruptly, dissipating into nothing; the object that then falls to the ground is nothing but dead rock that bounces harmlessly off the crystalline building it encounters.


    "Huh," Ahkelios says, watching me. "Nice."


    "Thank you." I glance at Ahkelios. "Any chance you want to talk about whatever''s bothering you now?"


    Ahkelios winces a bit. "...Later," he says, his voice a little guarded. "Let''s get this raid over with first."


    "If that''s what you want." My gaze is a little concerned, and I can feel Ahkelios withdrawing into himself slightly. But I trust the little guy, and I can wait for him to be ready.


    I can''t deny that I miss Tarin''s presence, though. The old crow would probably tell Ahkelios to get it out already.


    I return a few hours later to Miktik''s workshop, frowning a little when I see that it''s still empty. There''s no sign that either Bimar or Miktik have even tried to return¡ªno trace of their Firmament anywhere surrounding the place.


    I share a disgruntled look with Ahkelios. We take a moment more to make sure, then head back to the lab, hoping to find her there, but... Bimar isn''t there, either.


    The third and final place to check is the Integrator scrapyard¡ª"to the north", as Bimar declared. The raid itself hasn''t ended yet and won''t end until every last person in Isthanok is dead, and according to Guardian of Fate, none of my friends are at risk of dying yet. I''ve got time to figure out what''s going on.


    Of course, Guardian of Fate also doesn''t seem to know what''s going on with Miktik, and now it seems equally confused about Bimar. That''s enough to tell me something''s very wrong.


    "Do you think they''re okay?" Ahkelios asks. He grips at the collar of my shirt, little hands buzzing with worried Firmament. "It''s weird that your skill can''t reach them."


    "I don''t know," I admit. I reach up to pet him, more out of reflex than anything else. For a moment, I''m worried he''ll find the act condescending, but instead he leans into my fingers.


    "I never had friends during my loops," Ahkelios says quietly. "It didn''t seem like a good idea. I mean, every time I looped..."


    "Oh, we humans are known to get attached too easily," I say dryly. "I figured that was a lost cause before I even started."


    "I wish I had," Ahkelios admits. He goes silent again after, and I get the sense that that''s as much as he''s willing to say on the matter for now. It gives me a better idea of what''s been bothering him, at least.


    "Come on," I say. I try to make my voice encouraging. "Let''s go find the scrapyard. I bet they''re both waiting for us there."


    <hr>


    I find the door that Bimar mentioned first: just as she said, it''s a massive door made of Firmament and steel, towering over all the trees in the area. I''m surprised I haven''t seen it before, honestly, but there''s a thin sheet of perception-bending Firmament in a dome around the area that tells me why.


    I steal a bit of that Firmament for my own use. Seems like something I might want to incorporate into a skill one day, and it''s not dissimilar from what the frogs seem to do with their invisibility Firmament.


    "Ethan!" Ahkelios calls. There''s a note of panic in his voice¡ªenough that I hurry over to him. My eyes widen when I see what he''s staring at.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Bimar and Miktik. They''re both wearing the protective suits Miktik told me was necessary for the scrapyard. The suits look remarkably like diving suits. The deep-water kind, with a bulbous helmet and thick, protective armor.


    They''re also both very dead.


    "I mean," Ahkelios says doubtfully. "At least you were right...?"


    "About them waiting for us?" I ask dryly, kneeling down beside Bimar''s body. "I can''t say I like being technically correct here."


    Neither does Ahkelios, I can tell, despite his poor attempt at levity. "How''d they even die?" he asks. "I can''t see anything..."


    "Neither can I," I mutter. There''s no external damage to their suits, as far as I can tell¡ªnothing that makes it look like they''ve been attacked. The armor''s perfectly intact, and maybe a little more disturbing is that there''s no sign of any kind of struggle. It looks more like they fell asleep than like they were killed.


    Maybe something about the Firmament within the scrapyard got to them? If the conditions within the scrapyard were somehow worse, beyond the protective rating of the suits, it might explain why they''re both dead with no sign of a struggle.


    "Do you think they''re fully dead?" Ahkelios asks quietly. There''s a tight tension in his voice¡ªa worry that I admittedly was trying not to voice myself.


    If anything killed them here, it''s likely to be Firmament damage of some kind. And of all the different types of damage you can come back from, Firmament damage is the one that''s most likely to be permanent.


    "I don''t know," I answer honestly. "I hope not."


    "Me too."


    "For what it''s worth, it doesn''t feel like..." I hesitate. "I''ve haven''t spent much time examining the Firmament of dead bodies or anything, but usually there''s something about the basic structure of their Firmament that''s torn up. Miktik and Bimar feel... fine. Their Firmament is gone, but the container holding it isn''t damaged, if that makes sense."


    "If you say so." Ahkelios hops back up onto my shoulders. "I''ve never been able to feel Firmament like you can, so..."


    "Only one way to find out, right?" I say gently. I hold my hand out so Ahkelios can hop into my palm instead¡ªit''s the only way for me to ''hold'' him. He''s heavier than the last time I did this. The weight of his Firmament is strong enough now that I can feel him.


    He hugs me, and I quietly wrap my other hand around him. Neither Bimar nor Miktik were particularly close to us, but I sense that this is about more than just them, for Ahkelios.


    Strangely, the Void Inspiration within me also stirs.


    hungry, it says quietly.


    Not now, I tell it, but I sense something strange from it. Like... denial, but not the kind I''d expect. A correction.


    not as hungry now, it tells me. why?


    Odd. I don''t know, I tell it. But I told you I''d feed you new things, didn''t I?


    yes. The Inspiration sounds oddly thoughtful. new.


    It recedes and grows silent once more, and I put the strangeness of that interaction out of my mind for now. It''s about time for me to reset the loop, but before I do, I make one last sweep to make sure I haven''t missed anything. I could try to enter the scrapyard myself, but it feels... risky. I have to manually trigger the Once More into the Fray skill¡ªif the scrapyard kills me before I have a chance to react, as seems to be the case with Bimar and Miktik, then I''m just going to lose the raid.


    Too much of a risk to take, for now. Better to ask Bimar to change her approach, as long as she''s still alive in the next loop. If she isn''t...


    ...Well, if she isn''t, then there''s no point trying to save either of them. They''re already gone.


    Nothing wrong with the bodies or the suits, as far as I can tell. The strangest thing about this place is the door to the scrapyard and the Firmament I can feel surrounding it. There''s something about it that feels wrong, for lack of a better word¡ªout of alignment with everything else.


    Phaseslip makes everything a little bit clearer, but not by much. It''s like there''s Firmament just on the edge of my vision, and Phaseslip brings it a little closer. Unlike with the Ringmaster, however, the distance covered by a Phaseslip isn''t nearly enough to see whatever''s going on here. I''m guessing that if I want to access the scrapyard, I''m going to have to open the door.


    Not something I''m going to do yet.


    I can''t help but hesitate, though, lingering at the entrance for a long moment before activating Once More into the Fray.


    The scrapyard is a step toward the Integrators. It''s a step toward figuring out how to get to them, and through them, figuring out how to get to Gheraa. It''s a step toward figuring out what even happened with him. I can''t deny that crossing the threshold is tempting, if only because this feels like a place with answers. More than even Gheraa gave me.


    It''s funny. Gheraa was more irritating than anything when I first met him, and if I''m being honest, I haven''t had a lot of time to get to know him. The short periods of time we meet in during each Inspiration is hardly enough time to get to know someone, especially when we''re both being watched.


    But what he did for me here¡ªmaking sure I have a chance against a raid that would have slaughtered everyone I''ve come to know in the loops...


    I want to know that he''s all right. I can''t help but hope that he found some way around whatever was coming for him. He''s crafty enough to get all this past the rest of the Integrators to begin with, after all; if anyone can fake his own death, he can.


    There''s a part of me that''s worried that I''ll find his body behind the door. It''s called a scrapyard, but who''s to say that the Interface translation captured all the nuances of the word in its original language? For all I know, it''s also a graveyard.


    "Uh, Ethan?" Ahkelios prompts. He looks over my shoulder, toward the bodies, and I get a distinct feeling across our bond¡ªhe doesn''t want to stay here any longer than necessary.


    "Right," I say, shaking off the despondence lingering over my thoughts. Not sure why they got so dark all of a sudden. Something to do with the Firmament here, maybe. I refocus: I need to figure out what happened to Bimar and Miktik, and I need to finally catch up with Tarin.


    I''m missing the old bird already. Hopefully, I''ll find him and Guard both intact and ready to go.


    "Let''s go, ''Kelios." I lift my hand up to my shoulder, and Ahkelios hops back onto it, though the perch is a little awkward for him now. He responds with a chirp, his hands clinging on to my shirt, and I feel time whirl backward around me as I once more activate a skill.


    Once More into the Fray.

 130 — Book 2, Chapter 67 — Loop 15.3 Part 1

    I''m back in the lab.


    The first thing I do is brush off the strange, distinct sensation of Once More into the Fray falling apart inside my... Firmament core, I suppose. It''s a distinctly uncomfortable feeling, like holding broken shards of glass inside my mouth. The skill still feels usable, but only barely; thankfully, the feeling fades soon enough, and I''m able to direct my attention elsewhere.


    Like trying to figure out whether or not Bimar''s still alive.


    I let out a breath of relief when I see her leaning against the nearby wall. She''s breathing, at the very least, although she doesn''t look like she''s doing very well. The sight of the normally headstrong crow doubled over like she''s about to puke isn''t really comforting.


    Nor is the part where she collapses onto the ground. I hurry over to her even as she lets out a curse that the Interface pointedly doesn''t translate, and frankly, that in itself is kind of worrying. "Are you okay?" I ask, kneeling beside her.


    "What do you think?" Bimar groans. Her voice is muffled by the fact that she''s got her wings pressed to her face. "What happened? I feel like featherscrap."


    "Uh... you died," I say. No use sugarcoating the situation, and I''m not sure there''s a gentler way to tell her, anyway. Bimar still freezes, staring up at me in a mixture of horror, confusion, and disbelief. "Going after Miktik," I add.


    "I don''t think that helps," Ahkelios mutters from my shoulder.


    "Yeah, you''re going to have to explain that one." Bimar groans again, pressing her beak into the floor. "In a moment. Once I don''t feel like all my feathers are about to fall off and explode."


    She takes a deep, ragged breath, slowly pulling herself into a seating position; as she does, I use Temporal Link, creating copies of my selves from the past two loops¡ªone to save Vahrkos, and the other to deal with the merchant harassing Wander. Bimar stares as two copies of me abruptly run off.


    "...You know what, I don''t even have the energy to ask."


    I smile wryly. "Feeling better?"


    "Not even slightly," Bimar grumbles, but she pushes herself a little more upright and exhales. "But let''s not waste any more time. Tell me what''s going on. Make it quick."


    At least she''s willing to hear me out. I explain the situation as quickly as I can, and by the time I''m done, Bimar''s recovered enough that she no longer looks like she''s about to collapse. Her breathing''s still ragged, but the furrow in her brows tells me she''s more focused on my words than on how she''s feeling.


    "Putting aside how terrifying what you just said is," she grumbles. "Those suits are meant to keep Firmament pressure at a tolerable rate while we''re inside the scrapyard. If you''re sure there wasn''t any physical damage, then the only thing that could have killed me is..."


    Bimar hesitates a bit. I frown. "Is what?"


    "Is a dropoff," Bimar says. "They don''t drop things off in the scrapyards often, but there''s usually some kind of announcement before they do it. Or an alarm that runs through the scrapyard. You get about five minutes from the alarm to evacuate or the flood of Firmament into the area bypasses whatever protection even the suits have."


    There''s a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. "So you''re telling me there wasn''t a warning this time."


    "Or a very short one," Bimar says with a grunt, trying to pull herself to her feet and stumbling slightly; I catch her, and she leans her weight on me gratefully. The fact that she doesn''t have even a word of snark for me worries me, actually. She''s usually more grumpy than this. "You''re sure I didn''t leave behind a message of any kind?"


    "Not that I saw," I say. "And... this doesn''t explain why I found your bodies outside the scrapyard, does it?"


    "No, it doesn''t." Bimar frowns, tapping her wings together. "Either someone else was there and got us out, or one of us pulled us out before we died. We don''t have enough information. I would have left behind a message if I could have, though, so I doubt I was conscious long enough to pull us out."


    "It''d make more sense for you to get yourself out," Ahkelios points out. "You know to leave behind a message."


    Bimar''s eyes sharpen. "I''m not leaving Miktik behind," she says harshly. Her Firmament flares red¡ªgenuine anger.


    "We''re not asking you to," I say quickly, surprised by the intensity of the reaction. "Ahkelios has... well, it doesn''t matter. You know what to expect now. Do you think you can get her out in time?"


    I don''t say what I''m thinking. Bimar''s pretty badly affected after experiencing this Firmament pressure once. Miktik''s experienced it two times in a row. If she isn''t dead already, experiencing it again this loop might very well kill her.


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    "I don''t know," Bimar grunts. "I can''t move very well right now. And you said the city''s under attack?"


    "I can get you to the scrapyard," I offer. "I''m not sure if I can go inside with you¡ª"


    "You''ll need a suit," Bimar grunts. "We don''t have one ready, or if we do, I don''t know where we''re keeping it. It''ll be easier if I go in alone."


    "You''re sure?" I don''t want to risk going inside. It''s not just because I''m afraid of what I might find¡ªthere are very few relevant events I can think of that might warrant an emergency dropoff. The only one that comes to mind is the one I''d spent the last loop worrying about.


    A far-too-detailed image flashes into my mind. I see Gheraa''s body lying on a mountain of discarded Integrator tech, golden Firmament leaking freely into the ground.


    No. I shove it out of my mind. My imagination''s being too active. There''s no reason to think it''s Gheraa.


    Unless Guardian of Fate is warning me, but¡ªno. Guardian of Fate can''t pierce the Firmament of the scrapyard. It''s the reason I couldn''t tell that Miktik was about to die, and it''s the reason I couldn''t tell what was happening to Bimar once she entered the scrapyard.


    I''m being paranoid. It''ll be fine.


    "I''m sure," Bimar tells me, and I can tell from the way she''s looking at me that she''s caught on to my inner turmoil. She doesn''t say anything about it, though, for which I''m grateful. "I''m sure you have other things to do this loop."


    "I need..." It takes me a moment to remember. "I need to make sure Guard and Tarin are okay. I think I managed to fix Guard, but I''m¡ªI''m not sure yet."


    "You fixed¡ª" Bimar cuts herself off, but there''s a distinct note of hope in her voice that wasn''t there before. "If you managed to fix him, then we''ve got a chance against this raid of yours," she says. She regards me with an intensity I''m not used to seeing from her. "Get me to the scrapyard. I''ll do the rest. If all goes well, you''ll find me outside. If it doesn''t and you find my body again..."


    Bimar hesitates, then shakes her head. "Ask Tarin," she says eventually, though it obviously kills her to say it. "He''ll know how to find out what happened to me."


    "Is there some kind of history between you and Tarin?" I ask. It''s not the first time I''ve seen this... hesitation from her when it comes to Tarin. It''s not open hostility, exactly, but it''s something close. Like something about him makes her uncomfortable.


    "No," Bimar denies. "I don''t know him."


    "That doesn''t seem true," I say. She glares at me, and while I don''t react, I feel Ahkelios folding his arms across his chest, glaring right back. I can''t help but smile slightly. He makes for an intimidating sidekick.


    "I don''t know him," Bimar repeats, though this time she doesn''t quite meet my gaze. Then she sighs, like she''s rolling the thought around in her head. "Directly. Look, get me to the scrapyard. I''ll explain on the way."


    I do. Carrying a crow of her size is... awkward, but I make do with a few well-placed Barriers, shaped and tethered to me with Firmament Control. She''s silent for the first few minutes, then eventually finds the words.


    "He got away," she says quietly. "That whole village. The Cliffside. They take in the crows that get tired of living in the Great Cities."


    "That doesn''t sound like a bad thing."


    "It''s... not." Bimar looks away. It kills her to say it, I can tell. "But it feels like running away. I hate it. So many of us caused... people died, Ethan. People were tortured. And some crows get to just walk away from it all, like it never happened."


    I don''t know how to respond to that.


    "I stay here because I want to fix what I did." Bimar''s words come out as a slight snarl. "Crows like Rotar just run away and live happy lives and pretend they can just forget¡ª"


    Her chest heaves. I see her visibly trying to calm herself down. On my shoulder, Ahkelios''s claws once more tighten on my shirt; he recognizes the name, just as I do.


    "What did Rotar do?" I ask quietly.


    "Same thing I did," she says bitterly. "Helped. With that lab. With the experiments. If Miktik hadn''t..."


    There''s no small amount of self-hatred in her voice.


    This explains a lot, doesn''t it?


    "I''m no stranger to regret," I say quietly. "And I can''t claim I know what the right thing is here. But for what it''s worth, I think what you''re doing is worth doing."


    A small silence. Ahkelios seems like he wants to say something, but he hesitates, and then drops it before even saying it.


    ...''Hkelios? I ask.


    Later, he responds.


    "Thanks," she says quietly.


    "Rotar was the one bringing me back here, originally," I say after a moment. "He had something with him. A pocket oracle. Claimed it was predicting the end of the world."


    Bimar snorts. "If you brought him with you when we met..." she says. Her wings tremble a bit with anger before she eventually forces herself to relax. "Not sure I would''ve given you the time of day."


    "Maybe it''s a good thing things happened the way they did, then," I mutter. "But he''s trapped right now. Lost in time. He was going to slipstream here with me, and then something interacted with the Trial, and it went haywire."


    Bimar starts a bit. "I didn''t know," she said. "Is he¡ª"


    "Not dead," I say. "Frozen. In the Fracture. Slightly out of phase with the rest of time. I don''t know what it''s like for him, but I''ve been trying to figure out how to get him back. Him and the morphling that was helping me."


    There''s a long moment of silence. "...Well," Bimar says eventually. "Maybe he''s been punished enough."


    When we arrive at the scrapyard, neither of us speak. There''s not much to say. Bimar''s suit is apparently hidden somewhere in the bushes nearby, locked behind a secure code and a Firmament print of sorts¡ªI see a machine taking a sample of her Firmament, not unlike the ones used at the Great Gates.


    "Try not to die in there," I tell her. Bimar snorts.


    "And you better not die, or else we''re all screwed," she mutters.


    She opens the door. It''s enormous, but there''s an almost-invisible control panel camouflaged within the handle.


    I''m gone before the door''s completely open. If I''ve timed things correctly, my temporal clones are now helping Vahrkos and Wander meet, which means now''s the time to find Whisper.

 131 — Book 2, Chapter 68 — Loop 15.3 Part 2

    "Two rings."


    The words make Whisper freeze, just as she''d told me. I admit, I was half expecting this to be a trap. "Check your messages," I tell her. "You sent one to yourself agreeing to work with me."


    This is probably the easiest time I''ve ever had talking to Whisper. She doesn''t even say anything¡ªI can feel the flow of Firmament as she instead just immediately opens her Interface and begins to read. She''s silent for nearly a full minute, which makes me wonder exactly what she''s written in there, but... I''ve pretty much already committed to the plan, at this point. It''s not like I can get her to un-read whatever she''s read, anyway.


    Thankfully, the message doesn''t appear to contain a trap, either. "We fight the raid together, then," she says, although her tone is guarded. That''s more or less within my expectations. "Will Teluwat sends others?"


    "No," I say. I don''t know how to feel about the fact that she still thinks I''m working for the guy. There''s something in the way her Firmament flickers when she says the name...


    She''s afraid. Maybe that''s why she''s so fixated on it¡ªwhy she isn''t questioning things as much as she should be.


    Or maybe Teluwat did something to her. Ahkelios sends the suggestion through our bond, and I frown a little at the thought, though I try to hide that from Whisper. "We''re on our own," I add, hoping it''ll mask the slight reaction I had.


    "Of course we are." Whisper scowls, taking my words at face value. She reaches up and rubs at her face, something like exhaustion and worry and stress all warring for dominance within her Firmament. It''s a surprisingly human expression from someone that doesn''t... well, have a face. "Where''s the Trialgoer? These raids happen to test Trialgoers. The Integrators cannot have simply decided to target my city for no reason."


    "They have to be here somewhere," I say, affecting a frown. Ahkelios promptly shifts off my shoulder and clambers onto my back instead, hiding his face from Whisper. He''s having trouble keeping his face straight. "Maybe they just don''t care? What do Trialgoers get when they defend against a raid?"


    "Credits," Whisper grunts. "Rewards. No Trialgoer can resist those. He must be here somewhere."


    "Or the Integrators are after Isthanok for a different reason," I suggest.


    Whisper narrows her eyes slightly. "It is strange that they are targeting us," she muses. "We were told that the Great Cities would be spared. That''s the whole point of Integration¡ªthe centerpoints of the newly Integrated civilization aren''t supposed to be targeted by the Trial, or there wouldn''t be any incentive to hold the Trial in the first place."


    "Maybe something changed for the Integrators," I say. At this point, I just want to see where her thought process is going. There''s a chance she''ll reveal something I didn''t already know about the Integrators.


    "Perhaps," Whisper murmurs. She''s barely paying attention to me. I can almost see the shape of her thoughts¡ªher body flickers as much as they do. She''s speeding through possibilities, maybe even using some kind of thinking skill.


    ...Honestly, that makes it even worse that she hasn''t figured out that I''m the Trialgoer.


    "There is very little that could change that would cause the Integrators to target those loyal to them," she says out loud, tapping her fingers on the arm of her throne. The crystal makes a distinct ting, ringing softly through her throne room. "Unless they believe I am disloyal."


    "Your involvement with the Disconnected might do it," I say casually. It''s a bit of a risk, probing this deeply¡ªI want to find out more about the Disconnected, but doing so might reveal how much I don''t know.


    Whisper freezes, her Firmament going still as she does.


    "Teluwat is well informed," she says. The stare she regards me with makes me shift uncomfortably, and I begin to wonder if I''ve made a mistake, but... well, too late now. "Regardless... I doubt it. Many Trialgoers have dealings with the Disconnected. They are everywhere. The Integrators have better things to do than to worry about a few rogue species.


    "No. The only thing that might warrant such a reaction from them..." The tapping on the arm of her throne increases. Whisper seems distracted again. "...is the death of an Integrator."


    This time, I''m the one that freezes. Whisper doesn''t look away from me. "Teluwat is one of very few to have accomplished such a feat," she remarks casually.


    "...is that so." I manage to keep my voice neutral, if only barely. "I''m afraid he doesn''t inform me of such matters."


    "Indeed?" Whisper says. "Most curious. Regardless..."


    Her gaze shifts from me and to the window outside, to the meteors falling on her city. "I suppose all this is not important for the moment," she mutters, rising to her feet. There''s something oddly calm about her now¡ªlike something''s clicked for her. "I will defend my city. And then, Trialgoer... we shall talk."


    I keep my face steady. "I don''t know what you''re talking about."


    "Indeed," Whisper says dryly.


    And just like that, she leaves.


    I''m not sure what made her catch on, exactly, nor do I have time to worry about it. If she''s still willing to help me fight off the raid, then that''s all the energy I can spare for her at the moment. Right now, there''s one thing that''s far more important.


    When I arrived, I pulled Whisper away from what she was doing with Guard and Tarin. The both of them are upstairs in her personal lab, still, and given her reactions, I doubt Whisper knows that I''ve tampered with anything there. At least, not yet.


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    I make my way up the stairs. "Time for a long-overdue reunion," I mutter to myself¡ª


    "You''re telling me," Ahkelios pipes up. He startles me enough that I nearly fall right back down the stairs.


    "Damn it, Ahkelios!"


    "Did you forget I was there?" Ahkelios demands. There''s a mixture of exasperation and delight in his voice. "You deserve that."


    "I was brooding!"


    "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."


    I don''t need to look around to know that he''s sticking his tongue out at me. I just roll my eyes, but there''s a lightness to my step that wasn''t there before when I climb back up the steps. I didn''t quite realize how nervous I was about Guard. About seeing Tarin again. So much has happened, and there''s so much to worry about...


    ...but I''ve got Ahkelios, at least. The little guy''s not let me down yet.


    <hr>


    "It worked."


    It''s He-Who-Guards who says the words. His voice is... soft, surprisingly. It''s more gentle than I expected from what''s basically a robot: discounting the metallic cadence to it, he sounds remarkably kind. The mental cadence I got from him when we were connected was almost entirely different. That was filled with Firmament and power.


    Now he sounds just like any other person. A little shy, perhaps, which is also deeply surprising to me. "I have not been able to move on my own in a long time," He-Who-Guards says quietly, flexing his fingers and watching the joints move with wonder. He kneels down¡ªkneels to me¡ªand opens his arms, startling me. "Thank you."


    I stare at him, not entirely sure what to do. I''m not even sure what he''s trying to do. Is he kneeling to me or hugging me? He''s taller than me, so I suppose hugging would be the answer¡ª


    "You hug!" Tarin says firmly, pushing me straight into Guard''s arms. I let out a startled yelp, practically falling into Guard in a tangle of limbs, and Ahkelios cackles with laughter from his position perched atop Tarin''s head.


    Guard picks me up carefully. He does hug me¡ªwith a gentleness and warmth I wouldn''t have expected for him being functionally made out of metal¡ªbut only for a moment, and then he lifts me up and places me back upright on the ground.


    I am admittedly a little embarrassed. Mostly that Tarin was able to catch me off-guard at all, considering the multitude of reflex-based Interface skills I have. Tarin can apparently read my expression, because he preens with the most smug expression I''ve seen on him yet, and that''s saying something.


    "You still need train," he tells me.


    "Is that really the first thing you have to say to me?" I scowl at Tarin, though the scowl fades into an amused smirk after a moment; I can''t keep a straight face for long. The crow just grins back at me, puffing up his feathers.


    "It good seeing you again!" he tells me. "But you too shy! He want hug."


    "I am not shy," I scoff. "I just didn''t know what he was doing."


    "Ethan wasn''t hugged enough growing up," Ahkelios quips.


    "That has nothing to do with¡ª" I begin. Guard interrupts us, laughing gently.


    "It''s been a long time since I have been among friends," he muses out loud. "I apologize if that was unexpected, Ethan. I simply wished to express my gratitude. It''s... unpleasant, to be trapped as a servant within your own body."


    The three of us are silent at that. Guard notices the awkwardness that settles over the room, and he waves a hand dismissively. "I apologize," he says. "Hardly a pleasant matter to bring up."


    I sigh, glancing out the windows and back toward the city. There''s a current of Firmament beginning to rise all around the city, raw power that manifests itself as eddies of thick air streaming into the sky. Whisper''s already at work. Meteors break apart into fragments even as they fall, turning into harmless stardust before they can even reach their target.


    It makes me wonder just how much of her power Whisper ever leveraged against me. I don''t think she spared me, exactly, but she didn''t quite unleash everything she had, either. It makes sense¡ªshe wouldn''t have wanted to destroy her own home just to get rid of me.


    But Whisper isn''t holding back here. She''s doing everything she can to keep her city safe. And Guard...


    It takes me a moment, but I manage to find the words I''m looking for. "You don''t owe Isthanok anything, you know." My words are quiet. I watch Whisper through the windows of her cathedral. She doesn''t catch all of them¡ªthere are too many for her to handle alone. "If you want to just get away from it all..."


    Guard shakes his head. "I could not live with myself if I did not help," he says. It startles me, how sure he is; there isn''t even a hint of the hesitation I might''ve expected from someone in his position. "Isthanok is my home. I may not owe She-Who-Whispers my regard... but there are many who live here that I still want to protect."


    "How did you even manage to stay this sane?" The words slip out before I can stop them, and I grimace a little when he gives me a look. "Sorry."


    He-Who-Guards chuckles. "I''ve wondered at the answer to that myself, I admit," he says. "But I was not quite awake for much of that time. And I had help."


    "Help?"


    "A matter for another time." Guard smiles at me, though his face doesn''t exactly have the articulation for it. It''s more the way his single optic glows that tells me he''s smiling. "For now... Let''s focus on saving Isthanok."


    "You too easily distracted," Tarin mutters, hitting me on the head with a wing.


    "Ow."


    Guard''s eye goes out of focus for a moment, the light dimming. When he speaks, his voice is a little distant as well. "I''m still connected to my proxies," he says. "I can use them to make sure no one is hurt."


    "You can do it right at the start of the loop, too, right?" I ask. I think I can use Once More into the Fray once more before the skill becomes entirely unusable. "Make sure there are no casualties?"


    "Perhaps not none," Guard says. "But I can certainly reduce them greatly."


    "You''re probably the best we''ve got for that," I say. Whisper might be able to fight off a good number of them alone, but He-Who-Guards excels at a scale she doesn''t¡ªhe can respond to individual emergencies, to battles happening on the ground while she focuses on the sky. "Not sure how Whisper''s going to react to your bodies suddenly coming online and helping, though."


    At this, Guard''s voice goes a little dark for the first time. That gentleness disappears for a moment, replaced by something hard. "It does not matter," he says. "We have bigger problems at the moment. It''s my hope that she can see that."


    I don''t ask him what he plans to do if she can''t. There''s something deeply personal there, and now isn''t the time to dissect it. Maybe he''ll trust me enough to talk it through with me at some point.


    Instead, I run through the list of things I still need to do. I have one more reset, so I''m going to have to make it count.


    "There''s actually something I could use your help with," I say, glancing between Tarin and He-Who-Guards. "I need to check back on Bimar and Miktik. They''re..."


    I hesitate, then explain the situation as quickly and concisely as I can. Tarin''s face hardens the moment I mention Miktik''s death, and while Guard isn''t nearly as close to either of them, he readily agrees to help.


    "Thanks," I say, letting out a breath. "Alright. Let''s go see what''s there."

 132 — Book 2, Chapter 69 — Loop 15.4

    Bimar and Miktik''s bodies are positioned outside the gate to the scrapyard in the exact same positions I found them in last loop.


    That''s enough to ring alarm bells. Even Ahkelios shivers a bit at the sight. "Didn''t they look like that last time?" he asks. "You told Bimar what was going to happen. It should be different this time, right? Even if only a little bit."


    "Wish I had an answer for you, buddy," I mutter, kneeling down beside Bimar''s body again. Tarin''s expression is both stormy and dark, and he kneels beside Miktik, trembling slightly. He doesn''t say a word. I''ve seen him express a variety of emotions by now, but I''ve never seen him this...


    Distraught isn''t the right word. Neither is fury. He lingers somewhere on the precipice between the two, radiating with anger and grief and determination, and it''s somehow Guard who remembers to calm him down. He pulls him away, speaking something in quiet whispers to the old crow, and Tarin''s trembling slowly ceases.


    I''m grateful, I have to admit. I wouldn''t even have known where to begin. But there isn''t much we can find from the bodies: Tarin and Guard both agree that it''s some form of Firmament overload, but we can''t tell anything more without going in ourselves, and it''s risky to do that this late into the loop.


    "If it''s immersion armor you''re lacking, She-Who-Whispers keeps a number of them at hand in case something important is delivered," He-Who-Guards mentions. "They are crafted by the finest in Isthanok¡ªunlikely to fail easily to a differential in Firmament. I will bring them with me when you reset."


    "That''s probably for the best," I say, although my stomach drops a little at the prospect of entering the scrapyard for myself. Then my attention catches on to what he said, and I catch his gaze. "Delivered?"


    He-Who-Guards cocks his head. "This is the Intermediary," he says. "The point at which the Integrator homeworld connects to Hestia. You do not know this?"


    "Uh... Miktik called it the scrapyard," I say. My brain''s scrambling to catch up. Intermediary? "I thought this place was just for junk."


    "It is," He-Who-Guards confirms. "Waste from the Integrators is often relegated to Integrated planets, because any given place can only handle so much concentration of Firmament. But it is also known as the Intermediary. If a delivery must be made, it is made through this."


    "Why would..." I start, and then I shake my head, sighing. "It doesn''t matter. Good to know, I guess. Let''s not waste any more time. See you in the next loop?"


    "See you in the next loop," He-Who-Guards echoes. Tarin nods next to him.


    I hit the reset button.


    <hr>


    In no time at all, we''re standing back in front of the door to the Intermediary. Bimar stands with us, though she''s leaning on me, her beak clenched tightly shut. Even now, her chest heaves with discomfort, and I can tell she hasn''t entirely recovered from the Firmament overwhelming her.


    If this is the state she''s in, I can only imagine what state Miktik is in.


    He-Who-Guard shows up before I do. He and Tarin worked together to move fast, apparently, and Guard tells me he''s convinced Whisper to start defending the city. I''m not going to question it. I have my two temporal clones already out rescuing Vahrkos and Wander, so this is the final task I have.


    It''s the final chance I get, too.


    Once More into the Fray is in tatters within my core. The skill''s unusable. I might be able to use it to get a fraction of a second of a rewind, if that, and while it''s a useful emergency button if things go really wrong, I''d rather not use it at all.


    Gheraa did tell me that skills can be regrown given even a fragment of their Firmament.


    I feel like you''re being a bit greedy, Ahkelios comments, a half-grumble into our bond.


    You know as well as I do how useful it''ll be if we can get it working again, I tell him. He doesn''t respond, but I can almost feel him radiating pleasure at the ''we'' in that sentence.


    Regardless, we stand in front of the Intermediary¡ªGuard, Tarin, Bimar, Ahkelios and I. The immersion armor, as Guard calls it, feels awkward and clunky around me. I can feel that the metal is imbued deeply with Firmament, and I can feel the way it seals around me. The seal is so tight it nearly blocks my ability to sense Firmament outside of it altogether, which is... uncomfortable, to say the least.


    The others wear similar suits. Ahkelios is the only one that stands untethered, balanced a little awkwardly atop my helmet.


    "I don''t think you should join us, Bimar," I try one more time. Bimar shakes her head, entirely unconvinced.


    "I''m not leaving Miktik in there," she says stubbornly. I briefly consider knocking her out so she stays outside, but I don''t really have the medical training to do that safely.


    That and the last time I tried that I accidentally killed the frogs I did it to.


    "Alright," I concede with a sigh. "Guard, you''re sure you can stay connected to your proxies while inside? You don''t have to come in with us."


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    "I am most likely to survive a delivery event," He-Who-Guards replies evenly. "And the connection I share with my proxies run deep. It cannot be so easily severed simply by being within the Intermediary."


    "The Intermediary can block Interface skills," I point out. Guardian of Fate''s inability to reach into it continues to bother me, like a nagging thought I can''t quite get rid of. There''s no reason it should fail¡ªthe skill''s supposed to be able to detect the upcoming death of anyone I consider an ally.


    "If I am disconnected, I will leave," Guard allows. "But I will stay and assist otherwise."


    "Thank you," I say, relenting.


    Tarin stands outside the door, largely silent. I can see his impatience¡ªhe''s only barely keeping himself in check. I don''t push that patience any further, and gesture for Guard to open the door.


    Nothing seems strange, at first. Everything is within expectations. I see piles of broken and discarded technology. I feel an overwhelming presence of Firmament that''s palpable even with the suit I''m wearing. Tarin, Guard, and Bimar all step through the door and into the Intermediary without any hint of a reaction.


    Then I step across the threshold, and...


    An immediate, impossible sense of vertigo. The sensation of falling. A disconnect between Firmament and reality, like a knife wedged directly into the gap between the two creating a screeching alarm that blares directly into my soul.


    I stagger. Ahkelios dematerializes, the ripple effect of that disorientation echoing through our bond and causing an involuntary, snap reaction.


    Guard catches me. Tarin whirls around, immediately on alert. "What wrong?!" he demands.


    I know what''s wrong. The thing that''s wrong is that I was right.


    Gheraa''s here. To be specific, his corpse is here. I can feel that familiar, too-confident Firmament, but twisted and rotting and blighted. Answers I shouldn''t have filter in almost immediately, offered by my intrinsic connection with Firmament and my ability to sense it and by¡ª


    ¡ªby Gheraa himself.


    An Integrator death is a massive, destructive spacetime event. Their entire existence has to unravel, and that unraveling is like decay written into the fabric of the universe: everything warps around them, a viral unreality that eats into the cornerstones of existence until all that''s left is a maze that encompasses everything they were and everything they could have been.


    "Breathe," Guard tells me. His voice is soothing. I latch on to it like it''s an anchor. His Firmament is strong enough that it''s like a second sun. I can find him, even when my senses are drowning in everything that is Gheraa and his death.


    I breathe.


    Gheraa''s death is what''s wrong here. What remains of him eats into the fabric of the Intermediary, causing it to overflow with uncontrolled, sixth-layer Firmament. It''s not the same as the raw pressure of a connection with the Integrator homeworld¡ªthe protection of the suits doesn''t matter to something like this.


    This is just... the death throes of an Integrator.


    But even still, something is strange.


    Miktik and Bimar''s bodies were found outside. If they had been left within the Intermediary, I have no doubt that this ongoing death would simply have erased them utterly, incorporated them into its own expanding narrative of decay. Instead, they were removed, which allowed Once More into the Fray to reverse what happened to them¡ªat the very least, to reverse what happened to Bimar.


    It''s almost like...


    He''s still in there. He''s trying to protect them.


    The thought is foreign, in the sense that it''s not entirely my own. Instead, it''s a feeling generated from the space between my Firmament sense and my mind, supported by that little fragment of Gheraa I was able to preserve.


    Intent. Interpretation.


    I''m speaking with Gheraa''s corpse. Not directly, not in any way that allows me to ask a question and receive a response, but on some level, what remains of him knows who I am. He can sense me, just as I can sense him, and he''s...


    He''s trying to help. Even now, he''s trying to help. The information he''s given me about Integrator deaths. Bimar and Miktik, placed outside the Intermediary. Carried outside, no doubt.


    They need to leave.


    That''s not my own thought, either. I feel a flow in Firmament, a shift, and a moment later, an unconscious body is deposited in front of me: Miktik. She''s already partially overwritten, her Firmament sickly and weak and dying, and I can tell this is the best we''re going to get.


    She''s been in here for three loops. She''s worse off than Bimar, and Bimar isn''t in a good state.


    "You need to go," I say out loud, reaching down and picking her up. Miktik is... surprisingly light in my arms. I''ve never really thought about how different she is from so many of the species I''ve met on Hestia. I don''t even know what her species is called. But she looks so small, curled up like this. "You need to get out of here now."


    "But what¡ª" Tarin starts, but Guard grabs both him and Bimar. He pulls them out, past the threshold, where they''re safe.


    I''m still inside. Still with Gheraa. Surrounded by him, really.


    This is why Guardian of Fate couldn''t tell what happened to Miktik and Bimar. The thought is a bit numb, delivered to me again by whatever vestige of Gheraa remains. Death surrounded by death. The death I already knew about hid their deaths.


    It makes more sense than the sheer Firmament in the Intermediary being able to block my skills from operating correctly. It explains why Guard can remain connected to his proxies.


    There''s a sharp, distinct pain in my gut. I grunt, falling to my knees. It''s not an attack¡ªGheraa isn''t coherent enough to attack, even if he wanted to. If anything, I can feel him holding back, trying his best not to hurt me. To control that spiralling, decaying Firmament.


    I''m forgetting something. He''s trying to tell me something. Trying to remind me of something? I wrack my mind, trying to figure out what it is; whatever''s allowing us to communicate isn''t perfect. Gheraa is limited to a form of thought-manipulation to speak to me, which I''d be angry about if it weren''t for the circumstances.


    Or who knows. Maybe I''m not angry about it precisely because he''s already accounted for that and controlled it. That''s... a darker venue than I want my mind to go down, though. He''s sacrificed a lot and proven himself twice over. I''m being an ass.


    I almost quirk a grin at that. That definitely isn''t my own thought, and it''s almost comforting to know that whatever remains of Gheraa can still find the energy to sass me.


    On to the point, though: What am I forgetting?


    Something clicks. A pit opens up in my stomach.


    If there''s a raid... then there''s a raid boss.

 133 — Book 2, Chapter 70 — Skyfall

    Vahrkos had never been tired before. Not to this extent. It was rare these days for anything to tire him out¡ªever since he''d experienced his Convalescence, it was like his Firmament was three times as efficient. Slipstreams were easy for him to navigate like they had never been before, and Firmament flowed along his joints with just a whisper of a thought.


    It was saying something, then, that he was tired. The so-called raid seemed never-ending; no sooner did he fight off one meteor did the next arrive, fresh and full of disruptive, powerful Firmament.


    The worst part was that it almost felt like they were learning. He didn''t know how they were learning¡ªit wasn''t like they talked to one another, as far as he could tell¡ªbut the new ones seemed to know how he fought, would act to block blows that the first ones hadn''t seen coming.


    "Vahrkos!"


    He-Who-Wanders seemed so worried about him all the time. Vahrkos didn''t know why. He was the one that should be worrying about Wander! The silverwisp didn''t know how to protect himself; if a meteor so much as hit him, the man would just evaporate. At least the worst that would happen to him was the loss of an arm or something.


    "I am fine." Vahrkos was vaguely aware that his reply sounded too much like a lie¡ªhe was breathing too heavily, and he tripped up over the word ''fine'' because he stumbled over a rock. He-Who-Wanders caught him, slinging an arm over his shoulders.


    "You are not fine," Wander insisted. "You''ve been fighting non-stop for nearly an hour. I don''t care how efficient your Firmament is, you''re going to die if you keep going."


    "I will not," Vahrkos replied shortly, though his difficulty standing seemed to disagree with that statement. "I have fought for longer and survived."


    "Not against Firmament-absorbing meteors!" Wander said, exasperated. "We need to find some shelter¡ª"


    "We do not have time," Vahrkos grunted. He peeled himself away from Wander¡ªan act that required significantly more effort than it should have, because Wander was warm and comfortable and everything a soldier in the middle of a battle did not need offered¡ªand slammed a punch into a living meteor as it lumbered toward them; it shrugged off the blow, as it always did, and he ducked beneath its counterblow. It was a familiar dance, at this point.


    Except the counterblow caught him in the side and sent him flying. Vahrkos slammed into a wall, feeling dust and dirt puff up around him, along with all too many shards of disintegrated glass. He coughed twice, pushing that dirt back out of his lungs, and forced himself to his feet.


    It learned again. Changed its patterns. He couldn''t just follow the formula he''d developed¡ªhe needed to react, keep an eye on the changes, figure out how his opponent was choosing to fight.


    Wander was in front of him.


    Wander was¡ªwhy was Wander in front of him?!


    "Wander, you will get out of the way," he ordered, though it felt like a useless order even as the words fell from his lips; Wander wouldn''t listen, obviously. And he didn''t. The stupid, stubborn silverwisp stood in front of the meteor like he could protect him. "Wander, move! If it hits you¡ª"


    A swing. Vahrkos yelled internally at himself to move, to get in front of the blow before it could strike at the man he had yet to admit was his Anchor.


    He could not move. He realized, somewhat belatedly, that his legs were broken.


    The meteor struck a silvered head. Vahrkos felt his heart hammer in his chest; there was too much dust for him to see what had happened. He could catch a glimpse of silver Firmament. He could see the guttering flames that spoke of injury.


    ...but it wasn''t Wander that stood in the dust.


    Vahrkos stared, confused. In front of him, She-Who-Whispers stood in front of the meteor. The strike had hit her in the head; He-Who-Wanders was collapsed beside her, terrified but no worse for wear.


    "Hmm," She-Who-Whispers said. She stared at Vahrkos. "Maybe you would''ve made a better general than that brute."


    "I would not fight for you," Vahrkos said, the words slipping out before he could control them.


    She-Who-Whispers smirked at him. "I know, my dear," she said. "Perhaps Isthanok needs a little more of that sort of thing, hm?"


    Vahrkos narrowed his eyes warily. "What game are you playing?"


    "No game," She-Who-Whispers said. "I am simply... re-evaluating my loyalties, as it were."


    A cough. The dust got into Vahrkos''s lungs again, and he spent a moment to hack up the dirt. She-Who-Whispers waited patiently as he did, and the morphling couldn''t help but think about how surreal, how impossible this conversation was. He''d always thought that if he ever got the chance to speak with her, it would be at the other end of a blade.


    Metaphorically. He didn''t fight with blades. The point stood.


    "Helping us doesn''t repair what you''ve done," Vahrkos said.


    "Who says I''m trying to repair anything?" She-Who-Whispers asked casually. She hauled Wander to his feet, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up roughly, and Vahrkos started forward, his instinct to protect suddenly moving into overdrive. Whisper laughed.


    "Don''t worry, I''m not going to hurt him," she said easily. "I was just... curious, that''s all. Here, you can have him."


    She tossed Wander at him, and Vahrkos held back the scream of pain as he caught the silverwisp. She''d tossed him at his broken leg.


    "Bastard," he hissed.


    "I do have a reputation to maintain," Whisper said, light amusement in her voice. "Consider this a favor owed, yes?"


    "Absolutely not."


    She-Who-Whispers didn''t seem to care. She vanished, her Firmament flowing up and around her, carrying her into the sky. Vahrkos noticed, perhaps a little belatedly, that she wasn''t moving one of her legs very much. And that the flames of her Firmament were... weaker than he remembered.


    Even Trialgoers weren''t gods, it seemed.


    "Is she gone?" Wander whispered to him. Vahrkos sighed, unsure what to think of the strange encounter, but deciding to focus on it later. Ethan had told him, after all¡ªany death here would be permanent. He had more important things to focus on.


    "She''s gone," he confirmed. "And... you''re right. I''m not okay. Let''s... find somewhere to hide until I recover."


    "Finally." Wander¡ªvery slowly¡ªhelped him to his feet, and Vahrkos winced as fresh pain blossomed in his foot.


    He wasn''t okay. Not by a long shot. But as long as he had his friends, as long as he had Wander...


    ...


    He paused.


    "Hey, Vahrkos?" Wander''s voice was light, but there was a nervous note in it. A terrified one. "Am I imagining things, or did the whole sky just change colors?"


    "You are not imagining things," Vahrkos said. He clutched Wander a little closer, staring up into the sky.


    "...Do you think we can get away in time?" Wander spoke quietly. He knew the answer, but he wanted Vahrkos to say it. Vahrkos didn''t know if he could.


    "I think," he said quietly, "that our only hope is the Trialgoer."


    "You think he''s coming?" Wander asked.


    "Yes."


    It was the answer Wander needed to hear.


    Vahrkos didn''t know if he was lying.


    <hr>


    "Woohoo!" Thys cheered. "I never realized this thing was so good at punching! Hey, Thaht, did you know how good at punching this thing was? You should''ve let me use it sooner! It''s super unfair that you''re the only one that gets to use it in the Arena, you know."


    "Thys," Thaht growled, his snout buried in his hands. "Please shut up."


    "We''re fighting for our lives here!" Thys protested. He fiddled with the controls, and the entire mechanoid suit they were in lurched in a way that made Thaht want to puke; he didn''t know how Thys wasn''t already puking, in fact. Thaht was already telling himself that he needed to keep bags inside the mech specfically for this situation. "If I''m gonna die, I''m gonna die saying everything I want to say!"


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "You''re not going to die," Thaht said, trying not to snarl. "This suit is impenetrable. It''s made of¡ª"


    "The hardest materials we could steal, yes, I know!" Thys said cheerfully. "It''s the hardest suit we have. We should give it a name, you know. Not the Arena name. A proper name, like the kind we''d use if we were saving the city from an invasion of alien meteors. A hero name."


    "Thys, focus¡ª" The suit lurched again, spinning around on its heel in a maneuver Thaht hadn''t even known was possible without making the whole thing collapse. The fact that Thys was a natural at controlling massive robotic suits didn''t even come as a surprise to him¡ªThys had an affinity with machinery Thaht couldn''t even hope to come close to, as ditzy as he often came off¡ªbut he hadn''t imagined that he''d be stuck inside the same suit while they were fighting.


    It hadn''t been built for two! And now he was being rattled around very cramped internals while Thys made the suit do things he was pretty sure his brother couldn''t even do in his actual body. The fact that he could make the suit do it was deeply unfair. And was the reason he''d needed the practice more than his brother.


    "I am focused!" Thys argued. He launched the suit into a kick, propelling it higher than its thrusters had any right to be able to lift it, and deflected a meteor before it could slam into a civilian home. "See? Focused. Now, what do you think is a good name for the suit? I''m thinking something that reflects how strong it is. Like, Hard Man, or something."


    "We are not calling the suit Hard¡ª" Thaht couldn''t even finish a sentence without his brother making some sort of acrobatic leap. By all the kobold gods, if leaving the suit didn''t virtually guarantee death-by-crushing, he''d have been gone a long time ago. "Thys! You don''t need to somersault everywhere you''re going!"


    "How else will the people of Isthanok see how cool we are?" Thys argued. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Thaht interrupted him.


    Not with a lecture, although he was tempted. Something in the edge of his peripherals caught his attention, and he grabbed Thys''s arm and pointed; the kobold, realizing he was serious, immediately calmed.


    One of the Shards was falling. An entire floating castle, its fundamental Firmament presumably disrupted by a meteor strike. If it landed, it would take out several blocks, killing untold numbers of civilians¡ª


    "On it," Thys said, suddenly perfectly calm. He ran¡ªran normally, without any acrobatics or stunts¡ªand engaged a half-dozen levers Thaht hadn''t even known existed. Firmament surged into the metal. The suit''s heels dug into the ground, and pipes and roots burst out of its soles, burying themselves into the dirt. "Brace!"


    Impact.


    The sheer force of it made Thaht''s teeth ache. Part of him thought this was it. They had never tested the integrity of their design with this much weight; there was a possibility that even if the metal remained intact, the joints would fail, and they would be crushed along with every civilian in the area.


    For a moment, he wondered if he should have told his brother to run away instead of toward.


    But his instinct had been the same, really.


    "We need to feed it some of our Firmament," Thys said rapidly. "This isn''t going to hold on its own¡ª"


    "On it," Thaht said, pushing back his fear. He inserted his arm into one of the suit''s receptors, and Thys inserted his own into the other.


    The drain was intense. Thaht saw silverwisps and kobolds and frogs and crows and a half-dozen other species all come out, cowering beneath them when they realized what this huge, mechanoid suit was doing. There were a few that recognized them from the arena¡ªa few scattered cheers¡ªbut more significant than that was the looks of relief on their faces.


    Thaht''s heart hammered. He could die here, he knew. He didn''t have that much Firmament, had never really trained for this, and yet...


    What was the point of it all, if he couldn''t even do this? How could he hope to rebel if he couldn''t protect the city he was doing it for? They still had brothers and sisters, scattered throughout the city, some living underground and others above. He thought he could see one of their brothers in the crowd below, but it was hard to tell.


    It didn''t matter.


    His body ached and weakness began to spread from his arms and into his limbs.


    It didn''t matter.


    The pull of Firmament hurt. They''d never designed the suit to handle this much strain, to output this much power. Thaht didn''t even know how they''d put the building down safely. People were evacuating, trying to create a space, but it wasn''t like the meteors had stopped raining down¡ªif anything, the building they were holding ended up being a sort of makeshift shelter.


    It didn''t matter. They would hold on as long as they could, until something changed¡ª


    Thaht looked up, and he felt his resolve crack. He stared up at the sky, his heart in his throat. The cheers beneath them died down.


    His Firmament flickered.


    "What we''re doing," Thaht said. He fought to keep his voice steady. "Is it going to matter?"


    Thys touched his shoulder. There was fear in his eyes, too, but he was pushing it down.


    "It will," he said. "Let Ethan handle that. We just gotta focus on this."


    Thaht''s breathed. His Firmament steadied.


    "That''s his problem," he agreed. "We do our job, he''ll do his."


    <hr>


    He-Who-Guards was many.


    It wasn''t something he was used to yet¡ªso much of this workload had previously been done by Whisper''s commands, and he''d never really had to do it all by himself before.


    He still wasn''t all by himself, of course. The technology that had gone into his body was complex, and Guard suspected that even Whisper didn''t entirely understand what had gone into it.


    Specifically, the AI core she''d installed into his body to "help". It took on a lot of the cognitive load he''d otherwise have to endure, delegating and managing tasks, prioritizing, speeding up his mind so that he''d have the time to work on everything one by one and still look like he was doing all of it simultaneously.


    ¡ª


    //PROXY 023:


    Guard hears a sound that doesn''t belong. It''s the faintest hint of a whimper, emerging from the dust and debris surrounding him. A processor logs the event, sorts it, and prioritizes it.


    Priority: YELLOW


    Event: Child (age undetermined, species undetermined; estimate 8-12, estimate etherea) trapped beneath unstable rubble. High likelihood of imminent collapse. High likelihood of death.


    Guard moves. He exercises a control of Firmament that would have been impossible had Whisper still been in control¡ªthreads of his power slide into the rubble, pulling it apart and holding it steady. It''s not long at all before he pulls out a crying child. A silverwisp. She''s clutching a doll tightly, looking up at him with wide eyes.


    "You''re safe now," he says gently. That''s something he wasn''t able to do before, either. Speak. To tell people that he wanted to help.


    The child looks at him. She''s confused at first, unsure, almost afraid¡ªthe AI core logs and reads information to him that he doesn''t want to know, although he knows it''s trying to help.


    And then... a pivot. Uncertainty becomes gratitude.


    "Thank you," she tells him. She tries to give him her doll, and he gently refuses, putting it back into her arms. He tells her to take his hand and tells her he''ll find her parents.


    It''s more than he''s ever been able to do before.


    ¡ª


    // PROXY 041:


    There''s a meteor attacking a family, detected by a camera. A processor logs the event.


    Priority: RED


    Event: Group (ages undetermined, species avaria; estimate age range 3-62 across individuals) under attack by Integrator threat. High likelihood of immediate death across the board. Small percentile chance for the youngest to survive initial hit.


    One of Guard is close by. A blade unlatches from his arm, and he cuts through the falling shard of Ishtanok that''s blocking his way. There''s a part of him that recognizes how absurd such an act would have been before he''d acquired this body: his Firmament may have been immense, but the precision required to shape it into a blade would never have come to him.


    Now he cuts through reinforced crystal like it''s nothing more than liquid.


    He arrives a fraction of a second¡ª0.0132 seconds, the AI core tells him¡ªbefore the meteor''s punch would have crushed the eldest crow. He crosses his arms and digs his feet into the ground. The impact rattles his armor but fails to do anything more.


    His counterattack sends it flying.


    "Are any of you injured?" he asks, turning to the crows. They stare at him, awed and confused all at once.


    "You can talk?" one asks. A younger crow¡ªa teenager, if he''s reading their ages right. "Mom, he can talk! I told you he wasn''t just some puppet!"


    "Be careful," the mother says, gathering her child to him, looking at him warily. Guard bows his head.


    "I was a puppet," he says. "But no longer."


    Something in her relaxes. She nods to him, a fractional, wary acceptance. "What was done to you... it was wrong. I hope you know none of us supported it," she tells him. "Some of us, the older ones¡ªwe remember you. From... before."


    Guard feels warmth, strangely. The words should remind him of how much things have changed, should bring up memories that sicken and hurt, but somehow, it''s the reassurance that sticks. The idea that others remember, that he wasn''t forgotten and overwritten into a part of Whisper''s sick play.


    "If we could have done something¡ª" she begins.


    "It is no matter," Guard says, kneeling. "It isn''t safe. My proxies are holding them off in south Isthanok, near the Emarat streets. There''s a cordon of safety there."


    "...You are him." The mother sounds disbelieving, then relieved and fascinated, all at once. "I thought... I was sure it was a trick."


    "As always, the arrival of a new Trialgoer changes the shape of things to come," Guard says. He smiles, his one optic glowing brighter. "This one might be a good one."


    The mother''s eyes darken, in contrast. "I will have to see it to believe it."


    ¡ª


    //ALL PROXIES


    The color of the sky has changed.


    Priority: REDREDRED


    Event: ENDENDEND¡ª


    He-Who-Guards shut off the feed before the strength of the last alert could blind him; it rang in his head with what felt like the force of a collapsing star, giving him an instant migraine.


    He looked up at the sky.


    "That... is certainly an end," he muttered to himself. It took him a moment, but he commanded all the proxies he had with him¡ªevery single one¡ªto join him in the effort to stop it.


    There was a sole streak of white that was heading up to the meteor along with him. She-Who-Whispers. Part of him didn''t want to talk to her, didn''t want to work with her; there was a reason he''d avoided her as much as possible. Even his proxies stayed away from her, and she seemed to sense that his desire to be left alone, because she didn''t try to interact or interfere with him.


    This, though? This was bigger than the both of them. Quite literally.


    Fortunately, he didn''t need to speak to her for them to know what to do. A long, long time ago, working together like this would have been second nature for them¡ªand there was a small part of each of them that remembered, perhaps, falling into lockstep.


    Guard remembered what Whisper had once told him about raids. That they were tests. That they began with a number of smaller fights that pushed a Trialgoer to their limit, but at the end of it all, there was a boss.


    And if the smaller fights here were meteors, then it was no surprise that the boss was an asteroid.


    He stared up at the sky. This was large enough to crush all of Isthanok, and the impact would likely level all the Great Cities as well. He knew without even trying that all his proxies and Whisper together wouldn''t be enough to stop the thing. Perhaps if it was just an ordinary rock, they would be able to.


    But this thing was full of Firmament. Angry, hostile Firmament, like nothing he''d ever felt before.


    They needed to try anyway.


    If nothing else, maybe they could slow it down.

 134 — Book 2, Chapter 71 — Sinking

    I can''t stop it.


    The thought intrudes on my mind, foreign and not my own. There''s a distant part of me that appreciates that Gheraa makes it clear that these thoughts are his way of communicating with me. He could have disguised them, I assume¡ªmade me entirely unaware of his intrusion¡ªbut he''s instead left me aware.


    Presumably, though, there are limits. Otherwise he''d just be speaking with me directly. The fact that he can''t is just another reminder that despite his presence here, he''s dead.


    What remains of him still acts to show me exactly how out of my depth I am. I can feel my senses being guided, for lack of a better term. They pierce through the veil of the Intermediary''s door, a hint of Phaseslip''s power allowing me to cross that threshold, and...


    I sense it. The raid boss.


    There''s an asteroid coming.


    It''s enormous¡ªprobably the size of Isthanok all on its own. If it were just an ordinary piece of rock, I''d be confident in Whisper and Guard''s ability to stop it, but it''s not. That thing is full of enough Firmament to incinerate all of Isthanok on its own, and something about that Firmament is... wrong.


    It''s twisted the same way Gheraa''s Firmament is twisted. Someone''s death is fueling it, and at the core of that death is something entirely unlike Gheraa''s more protective bent.


    It''s raw, unstoppable hatred. Anger. It burns so brightly that it scalds my mind just to sense it, and I withdraw almost immediately; Gheraa''s presence wraps protectively around me in the same instant, preventing further backlash.


    "He''s right," I say out loud. "I can''t beat it."


    There''s no one here to hear me. My voice echoes into the empty Intermediary¡ªBimar, Tarin, Miktik and Guard are all back in the outskirts of Isthanok, past the gate. They can''t hear me. I doubt they can even sense what I''m doing.


    "Not yet," Ahkelios supplies quietly. He forces himself into being. It''s clearly a struggle for him. The Firmament of the Intermediary is intense, and manifesting for him is like forcing himself through a layer of thick, sticky tar. I can feel the strain of it through our shared bond, but he''s forcing himself out anyway, just so he can be here for me.


    I reach out for him, and he climbs into my hand. "Not yet," I echo.


    I still have one option, and I''ve never been anywhere more perfect for it.


    A second-layer phase-shift is best performed in an area of heavy, dense Firmament. The storm outside of Whisper''s castle would have been almost perfect for it, but that storm is gone now, and Whisper isn''t really in a position to provide it again: but that''s fine, because I have a source of something even stronger.


    So strong it''s going to be dangerous to attempt my phase-shift here. So strong it might be safer to just hide here, beyond the threshold, where Gheraa can bend his remaining power to protect me.


    I recognize those thoughts as Gheraa''s vestige reaching out to me again, making me an offer. Hide, it''s saying. It can make sure I stay safe, away from the impact, no matter what happens to Isthanok. It even presents an argument: if I stay within the Intermediary, if I live through the impact, then anyone who remains alive after the asteroid impact will stay alive. If I lose the raid, even those survivors will be gone.


    But how many people are going to survive an impact like that?


    Guard and Whisper, maybe. One or two of the Arena''s combatants, the ones with strong enough defenses to survive an impact of this magnitude. But even those are stretches¡ªI doubt this impact is going to leave any survivors within the Great Cities, let alone within Isthanok.


    No. The choice the vestige is trying to give me isn''t a choice at all, and it knows that as well as I do.


    I need to try to grow now. Even a phase-shift isn''t necessarily going to be enough, but the conditions here are optimal, and Gheraa can bend his death to my benefit. He can twist the corridors of time here, stretch things out so that I have all the time I need. My core is strong enough to withstand a level of pressure that Miktik and Bimar can''t.


    But in order to really benefit from this environment¡ªin order to push this shift as far as it can go...


    I can''t wear this armor. I need to expose myself to the full force of the Firmament here. I need to let it tear away at my core, to force me to confront the core of my power.


    My hands reach for the latches on my suit.


    "Are you sure you know what you''re doing?" Ahkelios asks. He doesn''t stop me¡ªinstead, he hops from my hands onto the ground, watching. There''s undeniable worry in his voice, but also... faith. Hope?


    "No." My answer is pretty simple. I thumb the latch, hesitating for a moment. "But I have to try."


    I flick the latch. There''s a series of clicks, a hiss as the armor pops open like a shell¡ªit''s designed to be easy to move in and out of, I''ll give it that.


    Then there''s a fraction of a second where nothing happens. A fraction of a second where I let myself believe that it''s not going to be as bad as everyone has led me to believe. That I''ll be able to push through this shift with no further complications.


    That fraction of a second, it turns out, is just the world holding its breath.


    PRESSURE


    The ground beneath me cracks, a physical manifestation of the metaphysical clash that''s suddenly emerged between my soul and the full force of the Intermediary''s Firmament. I stumble, partially collapsing, barely noticing Ahkelios''s arms slipping around me as he tries to support my weight. There''s a tang of metal in my mouth.


    A thick, crushing power surrounds me, washing away complexity of thought with the sheer weight of its presence. I can hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears. For a long moment, it''s the only thing in my mind¡ªthe only thing I can process.


    Thump.


    Thump.


    Thump.


    My vision blurs with red. That same red splashes onto the ground beneath me, soaking into the dirt in a puddle that seems... alarmingly large. Ahkelios''s grip around me tightens¡ªI feel him shaking me. I hear him shouting, saying words I don''t have enough capacity to process.


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    But the fear and urgency in them? I understand that all too well, and the part of me that struggles to hold on latches on to that piece of understanding, reminding me of what I''m doing and why I''m doing it.


    Firmament Control.


    Just the process of thinking feels like trying to swim through mud, but I force my Firmament to bear. I reinforce the edges of my soul, my core¡ªbuild up walls of power, layer after layer to defend myself against the onslaught of pressure that''s trying to crush me into nothing.


    Further within, the engine that Gheraa gifted me burns. It draws in every scrap of excess power, almost reveling in the sheer density of Firmament within the Intermediary, exhibiting a greed that isn''t unlike the Void Inspiration in its intensity.


    Mine. This power is mine. All of it will be mine.


    "Ethan!" Ahkelios''s voice is sharp, and I realize distantly that I''m saying those words out loud. The Void Inspiration isn''t silent¡ªit''s roaring, reaching out for the engine in my soul, pouring its power into it like it''s discovered a kindred spirit. The echoes of its greed reverberate in my mind, and I grit my teeth.


    Not now. I have enough to deal with already. I scramble for control in the chaos, feeling the situation slipping through my fingers, and finally, desperately, I call out. Don''t forget our deal.


    Something... changes.


    My words aren''t reinforced by Firmament, but they''re weighed down by something. It feels for a moment like I''ve tapped into a new power source, something that isn''t Firmament, something that reminds me of that gap that the Void first exposed me to.


    Whatever it is, the Void quiets when it hears my words. I can feel it considering them, and then I can feel it bend, changing its mind. It still lends the engine within me its support, but it''s no longer seeking control.


    It''s... trying to help.


    I don''t have time to think about what just happened, about what power I was just able to access. With the Void now actively supporting me, the pressure is a little more bearable.


    But it still isn''t something I can live through. Not yet. I can feel the physical stress it''s putting me through¡ªonce or twice, I swear I can hear a crack as a bone snaps under metaphorical weight turned physical by the force generated in the clash between my core and the full weight of the Intermediary.


    No time to think about that, either. I can''t feel it, anyway. Every cell in my body is focused on survival. One step at a time, one second after the next, moment after agonizing moment...


    I live. My core grows. I can feel the edges of my Firmament, defined more clearly than they''ve ever been before. Any difficulty I might have had sensing the shape of my own power before is gone now. The Intermediary acts like a harsh, unidirectional light, and my resistance to it creates a clear shadow.


    A shadow I can sense growing, adjusting, aligning...


    Shifting.


    [ Firmament base attunement: 100%


    Progress to next phase shift: 99.9% ]


    I''m right at the cusp of change. I feel it building up all around me, the entire essence of my Firmament brought to bear. It''s different from my first phase-shift¡ªthere''s no vision, no pillar of Firmament I have to fight. The challenge so far is just the intensity of the environment I''m in.


    And then something changes. A threshold is crossed, but... farther than it should be. The sheer depth of power I''m surrounded in forces me deeper into my own Firmament than I''m ready for, and I''m suddenly overwhelmed with the sensation of¡ª


    Drowning.


    I can''t breathe. I''m buried within my own Firmament. Worse, I can''t tell where my Firmament ends and where the Intermediary begins¡ªmy connection with my power has deepened, but it''s deepened more than it''s supposed to, and now my power is greater than my self.


    That''s what the questions are for. With every phase-shift, the self needs to grow in tandem with the Firmament, or it gets overwhelmed. And I...


    [ You have completed your second phase-shift! ]


    [ Anomaly detected. Please report to your designated Integrator¡ª ]


    [ You have completed your third phase-shift! ]


    The entirety of the Intermediary is unstable, pulled out of alignment with the weight of what just happened. Ahkelios is still holding on to me, only now his eyes are wide. He''s shaking me, shouting, trying to get my attention.


    I can''t move. I imagine this is something similar to what happened with Guard¡ªtoo much power, not enough self¡ªbut the fix I applied to him won''t work here. It''s not the raw quantity of Firmament that''s the problem, it''s the fact that I''ve delved too deep without shaping enough of myself.


    I need... I need to fix this. How do I fix this?


    Start with an answer.


    Gheraa told me what the second shift demands: a definition not of who I am, but who I want to be. With that answer, I shape the direction of my Firmament and my growth. I remember the answer I gave him: that I want to be strong enough to be kind, to have enough strength to risk mercy and compassion even if it doesn''t grant me a calculated advantage.


    That answer hasn''t changed, but it needs refinement. It needs to fit what came before and what will come after.


    The storm of power within me begins to settle, just a bit, as I reassert myself.


    The first layer. I am whatever I want to be. I allow no labels to define who I am.


    The second layer. I will be strong enough to define a future on my own terms. Fear will not define my choices. I will choose kindness and mercy and compassion, weather the risk, and I will win regardless.


    Because that''s what the Trials are about. It''s what Gheraa has shown me¡ªit''s what I''ve seen, even, though Teluwat and Whisper and Naru. The Trials aren''t just designed to connect the Interface to each planet. Like Gheraa told me, they choose who goes to each Trial.


    The notion of randomness is a lie. The Trials corrupt their participants, prey on their worst traits, turn them into soldiers for the Integrators that are happy to accept the power offered even at the cost to themselves, their family, their loved ones.


    They become obedient. Gheraa was right: selfish desires are easier to prey on, and the Integrators build on that.


    I accept no such deal. I will take the power I need to build a future I can believe in.


    My soul solidifies a little against the onslaught: if nothing else, I feel a little more like myself, and I''m no longer just a speck in the sea of my own power.


    But it isn''t over yet, because the third layer still calls to me. It, too, demands an answer. The first and second layers define the self: what exists in the present and what will shape the future.


    And the third...


    Define your truth.


    I prepare myself to answer, but before I can, something in me cracks, and I feel my soul begin to crumble.


    My core isn''t ready for this. I shouldn''t be at the third layer. I''ve only just aligned myself with the second, as much as that''s helped, it isn''t enough. The second layer exists to guide and direct the growth of Firmament, and it hasn''t had the chance to take effect.


    And so the third layer has no purchase. Instead of finding something to align with, it drives a stake into my core, destabilizing everything I''ve built, cracking the foundation I established with the first layer.


    I know who I am, and I''ve chosen who I will be. But the third layer demands success in the second.


    Right now? It considers me a failure.


    And the penalty for failure is death. True death. This will destroy my Firmament on a fundamental, permanent basis.


    If I die here, I''m not coming back.

 135 — Book 2, Chapter 72 — The Shape of a Soul

    Rhoran snarled, slamming his fist into his desk. "Someone tell me how a human is moving two layers in a single shift!"


    "Seems Gheraa was telling the truth about your temper." Lhore didn''t seem particularly bothered by the situation. She leaned back in her chair, observing the events on the screen in front of her with a mixture of interest and detachment. "Careful. You''re starting to sound like one of our Trialgoers."


    Rhoran growled, but didn''t dare contradict her. "Double layer shifts are theoretical," he said instead, getting up and pacing around his desk. "They shouldn''t be possible. You need the second layer to get the third. Otherwise the shift rejects you."


    "Then he''ll just die, won''t he?" Lhore shrugged. "That''s hardly a problem."


    "I don''t want him to die." Rhoran glared up at the screen. "He needs to suffer."


    "Sadism is not one of your more endearing traits," Lhore noted.


    "It''s not sadism." Rhoran narrowed his eyes at the screen. A small part of him found some satisfaction in the way Ethan was struggling, but a much larger part of him hated that the human had even been able to pull this off. How many years had it taken him just to get to his third layer? "I don''t enjoy his suffering. I just think he deserves it."


    "You seemed to quite enjoy his reaction to your raid."


    "Gheraa ruined it." Rhoran scowled. "I can''t believe he managed to get a skill to Ethan under your wa¡ª"


    He couldn''t breathe.


    Rhoran''s eyes widened. He clawed at his throat in a panicked, desperate desire for air, collapsing to his knees. He needed air. Why wasn''t there any air?!


    Lhore sighed. "You should be careful what you imply," she said, her words reproachful. The sudden impulse disappeared, and Rhoran remembered abruptly that he didn''t need to breathe. His Firmament darkened in embarassed irritation. "I almost wish I''d promoted Gheraa instead of you. He had a far more interesting reaction to that effect."


    "He was a traitor," Rhoran muttered, rubbing his throat. He glared up at the screen again. "...Whatever. The human''s going to die. I''m going to get my lunch break."


    "Hmm." Lhore glanced toward him. "Very well. I suppose I should join you."


    They left the monitoring room. On the screen behind them, Ethan collapsed to his knees. The readings on the Interface screen nearby fluctuated, flickered, and then a small message appeared, just for a fraction of a second, before it was subsumed by something foreign.


    [ WARNING: MULTIPLE PHASE ANOMALIES DETECTED. ]


    ¡ª


    I need to survive.


    It''s the primary thought ringing in my head. Dying here doesn''t just mean my own death¡ªit means the end of Isthanok and likely of the Great Cities as a whole, along with most life on the continent. It means leaving Earth and my fellow Trialgoers to fend for themselves.


    It means Gheraa''s death means nothing.


    But it doesn''t feel like there''s anything I can do. My power is collapsing in on itself¡ªusing it only accelerates the process. Trying to use Firmament Control for this feels like trying to control the ocean''s waves with just my hands. It''s a futile, pointless effort.


    That isn''t going to stop me from trying.


    Barrier. Second Wind.


    The skills flicker to life within my core. I feel them responding to my will just like they always have, eager, willing; barriers form around me, and the blue-gold Firmament of Second Wind glows just underneath the surface of my skin.


    The barriers fizzle. Second Wind dies, like a candle being snuffed out. The pressure around me continues unabated, both without and within; my core cracks a little further.


    Barrier. Second Wind.


    I try again. The barriers fizzle once more, barely forming before dissipating, and Second Wind just seems to send a ripple through my body instead of reinforcing the whole thing like before.


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    BARRIER. SECOND WIND.


    Barriers protect. Second Wind reinforces everything that I am. I''m not just using random skills¡ªthese are the skills I''ve been relying on, the skills that answer that second-layer question. They''re who I want to be.


    I am not going to die here!


    And


    something


    changes.


    It''s that same something I touched on when I spoke to the Void and told it to stop. I feel a part of myself reach out and tap into a power I''m not supposed to be able to reach. I don''t entirely understand what it is¡ªnot yet¡ªbut it feels like whatever it was that I sensed between Void and Hunger.


    It feels like [authority/speak/command].


    And Barrier and Second Wind... respond.


    Barrier rises within me¡ªnot the literal plane of Firmament created by the skill, but the skill itself. It wraps around my core, outlining the edges so clearly defined earlier by the raw power of the Intermediary. It reminds me exactly what shape my soul is supposed to be in.


    It feels... alive. For just a moment, I can feel the skill as if it were a living, breathing thing, responding to my will. It tells me this: It is glad I used it to protect.


    Then it flickers and dies.


    For a moment, I struggle to process what happened. There''s a gaping hole in my soul where Barrier used to be¡ªan emptiness I''m not used to feeling. A raw, aching nothing.


    But it has had an effect. It''s given me back the edges of my will, given me definition and shape and a boundary between my power and that of the Intermediary. With it, the third layer no longer feels like it''s burning straight through me, turning me into nothing more than a raw spark of power.


    With it, I live for another second.


    Second Wind is next. I know what''s about to happen before it happens, now¡ªthe skill floods my core, doing what it''s supposed to do, reinforcing everything that I am. It seals the cracks formed in the first layer in my Firmament, and its power pushes back against the third layer''s assault.


    It connects with me for a moment. It does not speak as Barrier does, but it gives me a series of impressions.


    It is glad it had the chance to protect me. To be me. Second Wind is a skill that gives a person a second chance, and to do that, it must embody that person. It has been a million different things, meaningless and meaningful and everything in between. It has been cruel and selfish, it has been compassionate and kind.


    But it has never embodied a will like mine. It has never embodied a will strong enough that it developed its own. With me, Second Wind understood what it meant to be alive.


    Then it, too, dies. I grasp at it before it can, try to feed it with the Aspect of Regrowth, but the Inspiration slips through and fails to find purchase.


    The skill falls apart, and I''m left a little more empty, but a little bit stronger.


    The other skills don''t need calling. They act on their own, reacting to what''s happening, to what I suppose is their home falling apart around them. Triplestep and Flashstep thank me for letting them see more of the world. Crystallized Strength claims it had a good time punching things that ''deserved to be punched''. Compounded Mind tells me my brain is fascinating.


    Not all my skills respond. The others know they''re needed, that they still have work to do. But the ones that do, they just... sacrifice themselves for me, reinforcing my core, using themselves to give the third layer the answer it so desperately wants.


    I''ve used my skills to become the kind of person it expects me to be, and even if those memories aren''t in the second layer of my Firmament, they are in my skills.


    Define your truth, the third layer demands again, and this time, I sense something different. It''s no longer trying to kill me. Whatever its requirements are, I''ve passed, and while the cost was heavy.


    I''m alive. I''m stronger.


    I understand what a truth is.


    The first two layers require an understanding of the self. They define the trajectory of your growth. The third requires an understanding of the world around you, and of how your presence within that world alters it.


    My truth is that of Change.


    Just like that, the strain on me disappears. The phase-shift stabilizes. The entirety of the Intermediary seems to pulse, reacting to the sudden presence of a third-layer Trialgoer within it. The ground trembles and cracks as my core fights off the force of the Firmament pressing down on it.


    I barely feel it. Instead, I turn my gaze to the Interface.


    [ For performing a phase-shift within a treacherous out-of-phase environment, you have been granted 100 Firmament credits. ]


    [ Mastery of Phaseslip has improved. ]


    "Ethan?" Ahkelios''s voice is quiet. He looks at me, worried, and I''m struck by a sudden relief that he''s alive¡ªthat Temporal Link wasn''t one of the skills that sacrificed itself to help me live and grow. I bend down and give him a hug, and he squeaks, surprised.


    "I have an idea," I say, standing back up and letting him climb onto my shoulders. New power and new knowledge brims within me.


    There''s no way to destroy that raid boss without still incurring a massive amount of damage across all of Isthanok. It''s a clever choice: as far as the Integrators are concerned, I never had a way to win.


    So I''ll just have to make my own.


    "Come on," I tell him. I glance back toward the Intermediary just before I leave, my gaze softening just slightly. Gheraa''s Firmament is still there, staining it with the color of his death, but I can feel something from it. Something that feels almost like pride. "And... thank you, Gheraa."


    I don''t say it out loud, but this won''t be my last time visiting the Intermediary. Gheraa''s death weighs on me, but I have suspicions about it¡ªsuspicions that have only grown now that I know what the third phase-shift involves and what it feels like. He is dead, but... maybe he won''t have to stay that way.


    For now, though, I have a city to save.

 136 — Book 2, Chapter 73 — The Truth of Change

    The asteroid looms above the city of Isthanok. I look up at it, and I feel less fear than I should. Shifting to the third layer has... changed things.


    Not as much as I''d like, perhaps. That asteroid is still entirely capable of killing me if it hits.


    If it hits.


    I just have to make sure it misses.


    He-Who-Guards and She-Who-Whispers are both holding it off with everything they can. I see waves of Whisper''s power pulsing over the asteroid, trying to disintegrate it, to push it back; the force of its Firmament deflects her own.


    The best she can do is slow it down.


    Guard has every single one of his proxies placed strategically around the asteroid at equidistant points. Each one of them carries a heavy shield of pure Firmament, and they use that shield to press up against it. A thousand thrusters fire, each one attempting to push the asteroid back, blasting raw Firmament into the air above the city.


    He, too, can only slow it down.


    They both notice me when I approach, pouring Firmament into Accelerate to keep myself aloft in the air. It''s not something I would have been able to do without help before¡ªAccelerate is meant to support a direction of travel, not to simply allow one to fly¡ªbut now it feels... trivial, almost. Like a drop of my Firmament feeds the skill with everything it needs.


    She-Who-Whispers speaks first.


    "Tell me you have a solution¡ª" she begins, but she interrupts herself mid-question. Her Firmament flickers. She takes a step back. "What... did you do?"


    "I''m sure I don''t know what you mean," I say. "But please stay out of my way. This will be hard enough to do as it is."


    Whisper... steps out of the way. There''s no word of protest, no questions, no remarks.


    "Do you need help?" He-Who-Guards asks.


    I consider the question. "Can you give me something to stand on?" Before I can even finish the question, a proxy near the asteroid shifts, holding out its shield so I can use it as a horizontal platform. "Thank you."


    Warpstep.


    I reappear next to the platform. There''s none of the traditional disorientation that comes with the shift in position, strangely¡ªit''s like I''m processing things faster, even without the accelerated thought of Quicken Mind. I reach out to touch the asteroid, and I feel none of the heat, even without a Barrier, Tough Body, or Second Wind.


    The loss of those skills still aches, but I push it out of my mind. Some fraction of their power still remains within me. Not to the same degree as before, perhaps, with none of the flexibility that comes from being able to pump Firmament into a skill, but...


    It''s enough.


    With a hand on the asteroid, I begin to activate Phaseslip.


    This time, the Firmament strain is intense enough that I almost immediately collapse to my knees. I grit my teeth¡ªno matter how much strength I''ve gained, I''m trying to push an entire astronomical object out of phase with this dimension. It would have been difficult even if it had been an ordinary asteroid, and this one has Firmament that resists, fighting against the grip of my power.


    I can do this. I don''t have any other choice. Even if Whisper, Guard and I acting together could destroy the thing, the harm it will do to the Great Cities would be irreparable. There would be uncountable casualties.


    Come on...


    The asteroid begins to take on the hue of my Firmament. A fragment of it flickers beneath my hand, phasing out of reality.


    More.


    About a fifth of the asteroid feels like it''s under my power. The rest fights back, screaming defiance against my control, and I snarl against it with all the Firmament I have.


    I reach for that power inside me, that [authority/speak/command]. I don''t fully understand what it is, yet, but I need every scrap I can get. Impact is only moments away.


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    Part of me thinks to use it on the asteroid¡ªto command it to accept the Phaseslip. I''m almost certain it''ll work. Whatever power this is, it seems to impose a truth on reality around me.


    But I don''t want to use it that way. I''m not Whisper or Teluwat.


    More importantly, I don''t need to use it that way.


    I use it on myself.


    Empower. Overwhelm.


    My Truth¡ªthat third-layer aspect I only just uncovered¡ªfolds itself into the command with an unsettling ease, like two pieces of a puzzle that was meant to be. There''s a moment where the world itself seems to hesitate. I feel an electric charge in the air, a force that reaches into me.


    Something seems to slot into place.


    Then there''s a sharp, impossible spike of pure, unadulterated power.


    For a fraction of a second, it''s like my Firmament triples in strength. I feel an overwhelming force rush through me, through the part of my Firmament that wraps itself around the asteroid. It stretches it farther than I thought possible, until the entire rock is enveloped in my power.


    Phaseslip.


    The skill normally just shifts something out of phase with reality, pushing it to the point of intangibility. But the spike of power I''ve given myself¡ªit does something... something more. Something I didn''t expect it to do.


    I meant to force the asteroid to phase through the planet, but instead, I shove it entirely across a dimensional gap I didn''t even know existed. The asteroid just disappears.


    I stare above me at an empty sky. There are clouds there, slowly drifting in the wind. There are stars I don''t recognize, glimmering past the atmosphere, visible to my now-enhanced vision.


    It''s like the asteroid was never there.


    Below me, there''s a stunned silence¡ªbut that changes soon enough. One person cheers, then another, then another. Messages pour in from the Interface. I''ve cleared the raid, I''ve received a ridiculous number of points, I''ve gotten bonuses...


    I close them all. I''ll look at them later.


    For now, I just stare up at the empty sky and allow myself to grin. Allow the feeling of victory to wash over me. Ahkelios, too¡ªhe cheers quietly, clambers down my shoulder just so he can hug my hand and then give me a fistbump.


    "You did it," he tells me. His voice is a little awed. I reach down so I can pet him.


    "We did," I say.


    I can tell he wants to protest¡ªbut he doesn''t. He just turns to look up, too, and joins me in enjoying the sight of a clear, safe sky.


    <hr>


    Gheraa was dead. But if he wasn''t dead, he would be laughing so very, very hard. Oh, it was one thing for Ethan to survive the raid, for him to throw off the Integrators and their attempt to break him. It was one thing for him to find a way around that trap of a raid boss, even! But what he''d done? Oh, it was perfect. Gheraa didn''t even know if Ethan knew what ha''d done.


    Phaseslip was the key to the Integrator homeworld, or at least the beginnings of it.


    His grip on his sense of self was nearly gone now, but for this to be one of the last things he would know... It was perfect. He couldn''t have asked for a better end.


    He''d never been so sure that all of this was worth it.


    <hr>


    Rhoran took a step back when the color of the sky changed. He swallowed, staring up at the asteroid that flickered in the air above them, phasing in and out of existence like it wasn''t quite sure where it was.


    He recognized that asteroid. This was impossible.


    It hadn''t quite made it to them¡ªwouldn''t make it to them, really, judging by the amount of power in that phase and the fact that it wasn''t quite keyed to their homeworld¡ªbut it was just far enough to...


    There was a rumbling crash. A feeling of something tearing. Rhoran almost didn''t dare look at the Interface message that popped up.


    [ Warning: damage has been sustained to the Intermediary hub. Several Intermediaries have been disconnected. Immediate repair recommended. ]


    "You understand, of course, that you will take the blame for this?" Lhore''s voice was calm, but Rhoran knew better than to believe what that implied.


    "Y-yes, ma''am." Rhoran swallowed. His mind reeled with the impossibility of it all. She-Who-Whispers didn''t have Phaseslip. The only one that did on Hestia was Ethan, and there was no way that the human had survived a two-layer phase-shift.


    Had he?


    His eyes drifted to the corner of his Interface that kept track of Ethan.


    [ Name: Ethan Hill


    Status Report:


    Alive. Third-layer human.


    Abnormality detected. Ethan Hill may be capable of anchoring a Truth.


    Assessing...


    Assessment complete. Ethan Hill and Hestia 307B will be locked from Integrator interference until further notice. ]


    Next to him, Lhore felt suddenly significantly colder. "You will find out what happened, yes?" she asked sweetly.


    "Yes," Rhoran said quickly, swallowing. "Yes. Yes, I will."


    But if Ethan and Hestia as a whole were locked from Integrator interference, then there was only one way for him to get any answers at all.


    He would have to give up being an Integrator.

 137-138 — Book 2, Epilogues 1 & 2

    Epilogue 1 - Guard & Whisper


    Some time after the raid is cleared, everyone gathers. Almost everyone, anyway. Bimar and Miktik are missing¡ªaccording to Guard, Miktik needs emergency medical attention, and he''s sent one of his proxies with them to make sure they stay safe. Part of me wants to go after them and make sure they''re safe, but...


    There''s still She-Who-Whispers to think about. Now that the raid is over, she''s a threat again.


    Truth is, I''m not sure what to make of her now. She stands in front of us with her hands folded behind her back, wearing a serene smile and acting like she isn''t in the company of a man she''s tortured and controlled. Like there aren''t rebels fighting against her regime gathered in front of her.


    I''m not the only one confused by her presence, either. He-Who-Guards, Thys, Thaht, Tarin, Vahrkos and Wander all regard her with suspicion. Evidently, her actions to save them weren''t enough to inspire much trust, and I can''t say I blame them.


    "Such anger." She-Who-Whispers speaks first when no one takes the opportunity to say anything. She chuckles. "Surely I deserve a little more credit? I played along with your little game, didn''t I?"


    "This wasn''t a game," I say. On my shoulder, Ahkelios crosses his arms, nodding in agreement.


    Whisper tilts her head slightly, staring at me, and something in her expression seems to settle. "No, I suppose it wasn''t," she agrees coolly. "My city would be gone without you. But then again, without you, it wouldn''t have been at risk in the first place."


    "If the Integrators were willing to sacrifice Isthanok, it would''ve been at risk eventually anyway," I say. I have no intention of taking the blame for the actions of the Integrators.


    "That is true," Whisper says. "And killing you now would be quite pointless, given the nature of your Trial."


    I tense, my Firmament reacting to the implicit threat, rising up around me.


    And Whisper... takes a step back.


    It''s subtle. She tries to recover, flaring out her Firmament a little to hide the fact that she''s moved. But everyone notices.


    There''s a long silence.


    "The Integrators are not responding to my demands for clarification," Whisper eventually says. "Whatever you''ve done, it seems Hestia is on its own for now. Perhaps for the foreseeable future as well."


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    "And?" My tone is guarded.


    "And I find myself wondering what might have become of Isthanok without the Integration." She-Who-Whispers looks thoughtful. I don''t trust her words, exactly, but there is something strange about her.


    She turns to look directly at He-Who-Guards. "Maybe it''s time to find out."


    "...What do you mean?" Guard doesn''t sound like he wants to talk to her at all, and I can''t blame him.


    She-Who-Whispers shrugs. "Congratulations, Trialgoer," she says to me instead, turning away from her old friend. "You''ve won quite the victory. Was it all part of your plan, I wonder?"


    "What are you talking about¡ª" I begin, but then I realize what''s different.


    Her Firmament is damaged. It''s not so damaged that she''ll die, but she''s keeping herself conscious through sheer force of will and nothing else¡ªshe''s drained herself, completely and utterly, attempting to slow down that asteroid.


    "Took you a while to notice, Trialgoer," She-Who-Whispers says, amused. "I won''t recover for... years, probably. So you rebels are getting what you want, yes? Isthanok, free of its tyrant."


    She steps a little closer to them, and they all step back instinctively. "But I will be back," she tells them. "And if I find my city''s a mess... well, I''m going to have to take it over again."


    She-Who-Whispers disappears. I sense a skill activation, though it''s beyond me where she got the Firmament to activate that skill. Those of us that remain stare at each other.


    "...Who in charge now?" Tarin asks, looking around awkwardly. He-Who-Guards sighs.


    "I will attempt to keep things together," he says. "...It''s just like her, leaving me to clean up her mess."


    <hr>


    Epilogue 2 - Funeral


    Sometimes things just don''t work out.


    Bimar was lucky. She''d survived the toxicity of Firmament within the Intermediary because she''d only been through it twice. Miktik went through it three times, and though we got her out by the end, the damage was...


    It''s unrecoverable. Her core was wiped out entirely. Nothing remains to generate Firmament, to restore the now-empty husk of her body.


    We hold a funeral for her, because she helped us. Because she helped all the rebels, apparently. I wasn''t aware of it before, but the rebels explain to me how much she''s put into the rebellion¡ªhow she more or less adopted every single one of them, at least in this core group. She is... she was something like a maternal figure.


    I wish there was more to say. I wish I''d gotten the chance to know her a little better. Her stories, told through the lens of others¡ªit helps a little. I try to remember them, because once time resets, Guard will be the only one besides me that will know why their sort-of-leader is dead.


    The thought is a little depressing.


    The worst part, perhaps, is that none of us know why she wandered into the Intermediary. There''s a lack of closure there that makes her death sting all the more¡ªthat we don''t know what her last moments were like, or what she was trying to accomplish. If we did, we could have done something to honor her death, but...


    There''s nothing.


    "It should be Whisper that''s dead." Bimar''s voice is tight with grief and anger. "Not her. Not Miktik."


    I sigh. I don''t respond, instead staring quietly at the spot in the ground where she''s buried. It''s Tarin that speaks, actually. He''s grieving just as much, but it''s more... controlled.


    "You not let her workshop die," he says. "Find someone to use it. She want that."


    Bimar opens her beak, as if to argue, but whatever she wants to say dies in her throat. After a moment, she just... nods.


    "Yeah," she says. "I will."

 139-141 — End of Book 2 — Epilogues 3, 4, & 5

    Epilogue 3 - Loneliness


    "I not stay with you."


    I''ve dreaded hearing these words from Tarin, although I think on some level, I knew it was coming.


    "You find way for me to stop looping," Tarin says. "I... please."


    "It''s not because you want to forget, is it?" I ask tiredly. I don''t think I can make him forget, even if I wanted to.


    "No," Tarin says. "I not forget. I not want to forget. But..."


    Tarin makes a frustrated sound in his throat, stomping on the ground; electricity crackles as his Firmament flares around him. "You good Trialgoer!" he declares. "You strong. You still need training, but you strong. You keep training, yes?"


    "Of course," I say. He sags a little, some combination of relief and sadness warring within him.


    "Good!" he says. "You not make me follow you. If I see you not train, I find you."


    I snort a bit. "Are you in a position to threaten me?" I ask, unable to help the slight grin tthat steals across my expression. Tarin just gives me a disbelieving look.


    "I not care how strong you are," he declares. "You fight too many strong things! So keep training. Smack Naru for me."


    "I''ll be sure to do that." My grin resolves into a smile¡ªone that''s surprisingly real, even if I don''t like the thought of Tarin no longer traveling with me. He''s been reliable. Frustrating at times, but the energy he has... It always manages to bring me back when things get too serious.


    I can''t help but notice how he''s avoiding explaining why he wants to leave, though. I''m pretty sure I know already, but I want to hear him say it. "It''s Mari, isn''t it?"


    Tarin freezes, and then he deflates, sighing. "...Yes. I not stupid. I see... Mari sad when she knows, yes? And I help, but..."


    A pause. He struggles to find the words. "I see too many things," he eventually says. "I grow older. She... not grow old. You understand? I stay with you..."


    "You''ll drift apart, because you''ll accumulate so many more experiences than she will," I say. I offer him a wry grin. "I wanted to try to figure out how to bring her into the loop too, you know. So you can both travel with me."


    Tarin narrows his eyes at me. "You want torture us both?" he asks, faking outrage.


    I snort. "No," I say. "You two just... you helped me a lot. It''s hard to say goodbye, you know?"


    "It not goodbye," Tarin huffs. "You come back. Say hi."


    "I''ll be sure to do that," I say. I hesitate. "...I think I can remove the piece of the Interface within you. It should stabilize you. Prevent you from looping again."


    "Not now," Tarin says, crossing his wings. "After you reset. I... not want to forget what happen to Miktik."


    "Yeah, I figured," I say quietly. "I''ll... come say goodbye. In the next loop."


    "I''m gonna miss you!" Ahkelios says. He leaps down from my shoulder and hops up to give Tarin a hug¡ªTarin squawks, then immediately drags us both into a hug.


    "I miss you two too," he says. "Be good! Be not like Naru. He idiot."


    I snort again, hugging him back. "I''ll be sure to tell him that when I see him."


    <hr>


    Epilogue 4 - New Companions


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    "I will come with you," He-Who-Guards says. I stare at him for a moment. This I did not expect.


    "Weren''t you going to... you know, stay and help manage Isthanok?" I ask, hesitating. "Don''t get me wrong, I don''t mind¡ªI could use someone other than Ahkelios to watch my back¡ª"


    "Hey!" Ahkelios protests.


    "¡ªI could use someone along with Ahkelios to watch my back," I correct myself, grinning at Ahkelios. The mantis takes a second to realize I was baiting him and then lets out a mock-offended huff; Guard chuckles, amused by the exchange. "But I figured you were, you know, busy."


    "I am," Guard says. "I have also been confined to this city for as long as Whisper has controlled me."


    ...Fair point, actually.


    "My proxies can do what needs to be done," he continues. "But if you would allow me to accompany you, I would like to see more. Experience what was stolen from me."


    "You''re sure?" I ask. "Because it''s gonna be dangerous. I know you''re strong and all, but still."


    "Danger is not a concern," Guard replies. There''s something in his tone...


    "...But I am?"


    He hesitates, his gaze not meeting mine. "I just don''t want you to end up like Whisper."


    I pause, then smile. "I can respect that. Welcome to the team, Guard."


    <hr>


    Epilogue 5 - One Step Forward


    I wasn''t expecting so many things to change.


    Guard and I make the trip to the Fracture. The upgraded Temporal Link along with the strength of being at the third layer¡ªand Phaseslip, actually, which is remarkably similar in function to what''s happened to them¡ªmeans it''s almost trivial now to pull both Rotar and Ikaara back into phase with normal time.


    I almost expect there to be a long conversation. I expect blame to be thrown around, for Ikaara or Rotar to be angry. Rotar seems more relieved than anything, and Ikaara...


    ...well, she just says that she wants to head to Isthanok and disappears back into a slipstream. I get the odd feeling that I haven''t seen the last of her.


    "I still need to deal with the Fracture exploding," I mutter. Ahkelios has somehow managed to fall asleep¡ªwho knows why, considering he''s never needed sleep before. But he''s curled up on my head, and I can''t find it in myself to disturb him. It''s a chance to have a good, long talk with Guard, anyway.


    "That is a problem, isn''t it," Guard agrees. "But not one you can deal with yet."


    "You''re oddly sure of that."


    "If you will recall, you left me dying within the Fracture in one of your loops." He-Who-Guards says it matter-of-factly, but it still makes me wince. "...I don''t blame you, by the way. Besides, I let you push me in."


    "Did you?"


    Guard chuckles. "I''m actually unsure," he admits, glancing away. "I did not... have much control over myself then. And my memories of my time under Whisper''s control are fragmented."


    I open my mouth.


    "I do not want those memories restored," Guard says, before I can say anything. I shut my mouth. "Do you know what you wish to do next?" he asks, changing the subject.


    I glance away. "...Do you know what killed Miktik?" I ask quietly.


    "I do not."


    "An Integrator died there," I say. "Or at least, his corpse was dumped there. He is... he was my friend."


    "An Integrator?" Guard looks at me, his tone carefully neutral, and I sigh.


    "I know how it sounds. But he was trying to help me, trying to go against the other Integrators, and he got killed for it." I stare into the depths of the Fracture. "But Integrator corpses are dangerous too, apparently. They rot the universe around them. Bimar and Miktik got hit by that rot."


    "I see." A pause. "I assume there is more to the story."


    "He killed them, but he was trying not to kill them." It sounds a little ridiculous when I say it out loud. "It''s why he carried them out. I don''t think he has much control over what''s happening around him, since he''s dead and all, but... I think he was trying. I wouldn''t have been able to save Isthanok without him."


    Guard regards me thoughtfully. There''s a surprising lack of judgement in his gaze, which I appreciate. "You speak as though he is still alive. As though he has will and intent."


    "It''s not the same, but he does. Or he did." I frown. I did try visiting the Intermediary once more before leaving for the Fracture, but whatever presence Gheraa had there seemed weaker, somehow. Less aware of itself, less capable of action. "When I went there again he didn''t really seem to anymore. But..."


    I hesitate. Guard tilts his head. "But?"


    "The Intermediary was transformed," I say. "I don''t know what it is about Integrator deaths, but it changed the whole place. There are corridors there now. Walls. It''s like there''s an entire structure being created from the event of his death."


    "You wish to explore that structure?"


    "I think I might be able to help him if I do," I say. I feel for that small piece of Firmament within my core¡ªthe little piece of Gheraa that I was able to save. "Maybe. It might be a long shot."


    "You seem to enjoy impossible odds," Guard says, a hint of amusement in his voice.


    "I don''t know enough about Integrator deaths to be comfortable exploring it just yet," I say. "I like impossible odds, but I also like pushing them in my favor, you know? And those structures... they reminded me of something."


    I reach for the Interface. "I earned access to something called The Empty City through the Interface once, in one of my earlier loops," I say. "I''ve been using it to store things, mostly. I haven''t actually been inside it. But the rot I feel there... it feels like Gheraa''s death."


    "You think it was created by the death of another Integrator." Guard sounds intrigued. I nod.


    "Yeah," I say. "And I think if I want to save Gheraa... I''m going to need to go in there first."

 142 — Book 3, Chapter 1 — A Remnant in Time

    "You ever think about how weird this all is, Ethan?"


    Ahkelios isn''t looking at me. He''s staring out over the city of Isthanok¡ªspecifically, over the semi-ruined city that everyone''s still working to rebuild. Guard and his proxies are off working on that specific task until I''m ready to take the next step, and for now, I''m just... taking a break.


    Or avoiding responsibility. Either one would be accurate, really.


    "It''s hard not to," I answer. "I mean, I don''t know about you, but I wasn''t exactly the warrior type back on Earth. I''m not sure I''m the warrior type now."


    Ahkelios turns his head to stare at me. "You''re making me really worried about what Earth thinks a warrior is."


    I snort. "There''s usually less shirts involved."


    "Well, that''s easily solved."


    "I''m not taking off my shirt, Ahkelios."


    The mantis snickers. He shifts a little on the branch he''s sitting on, tapping contemplatively on the wood beneath him. "I was a scientist before all this," he says. "I painted as a hobby. I don''t even remember what that was like anymore. I mean, I''ve got more pieces of those memories than I did before, but I still can''t imagine myself sitting down and painting. And I know how much it meant to me."


    I''m quiet for a moment. "Yeah," I say eventually. I can''t picture myself sitting down at a computer and playing a game, either. Or holding a job as a cashier, god forbid, though even before all this I''m not sure I could''ve held that particular job without eventually punching someone in the face.


    Ahkelios hesitates. I can tell there''s something on his mind¡ªsomething he''s been trying to bring himself to say for a while. It''s come up a few times here and there in these last few loops, ever since he absorbed his most recent Remnant.


    "I''m not going to judge you, you know," I tell him. Because I think I know what he wants to talk about.


    There''s a small sigh. The mantis looks away, bringing his hands up to his eyes, and I pretend not to see the small wiping motions he makes.


    "I don''t think I was a good person, Ethan," Ahkelios says. His voice is small and quiet¡ªnot something I''m used to from him. "Even if I started that way."


    "That''s what these Trials do, right?" I keep my voice even when I speak, and a moment later I put my hand out in front of him. Ahkelios looks at it for a second before he climbs up onto my palm. He''s big enough now that the gesture is a little awkward, but neither of us mind. "They''re meant to break people in exactly that way. We''ve seen it with Naru, we''ve seen it with Whisper. Gheraa told us about it, even."


    "Every Trialgoer is selected," Ahkelios agrees, though he still doesn''t look at me. "They''re chosen so that their Trial molds them into something more pliable. Into someone the Integrators can use."


    "You''re worried about what they would''ve made you?"


    "I''m worried about what they did make me." Ahkelios hunches over a little, bringing his arms around his knees, hugging himself. I gather him closer so I can cup him in both of my hands, and Ahkelios leans into my chest instinctively, his fingers clutching at my shirt. "I don''t know if I want to absorb any more Remnants."


    "You don''t have to," I tell him. I watch as the sun refracts through a remnant of Isthanok, a half-shattered island of crystal still floating in the sky; broken like this, the light scatters into a rainbow of light instead of simply shining through. It''s quite the sight, and Ahkelios and I both watch the play of color until a stray cloud ends the display.


    It''s only when it ends that Ahkelios speaks again. "Are you sure?" he asks. "It would make me stronger. I''d be able to do more. Help you more."


    I chuckle a bit. "That isn''t even close to what I''m worried about, ''Kelios," I tell him. I run a finger over the back of his head, and he lets out a low series of clicks that seem almost like his version of a purr. "I''m worried about the hold the Interface has on you. I''m worried about whether or not you''re going to stick around when all this is over. I''m worried about you, living as a person, beyond the shackles of Interface and skills and Firmament."


    Ahkelios snorts in a way that''s almost self-disparaging, although he can''t hide his smile, either. "You worry too much."


    "It''s part of my charm." I grin.


    "It absolutely is not," the mantis argues, but I notice that he''s relaxed a little. There''s less tension in his Firmament, less... conflict. When he speaks again, his voice is softer. "But thank you. For worrying."


    "You are welcome." I reach down to flick him gently, and he bats at my finger, grumbling at me. "Did you get a specific memory that brought all this up?"


    Ahkelios sighs, glancing away. "I don''t..." he starts, and then he stops. "Yes. The answer is yes."


    He''d been about to say I don''t know, I think. He looks back out over Isthanok. "I don''t think I ever cared as much as you seem to about killing. I mean... it''s a time loop. At some point I figured I could just do whatever I wanted. The whole point is that there are no consequences, right?"


    "That is technically definitely the point," I agree. I don''t add anything more, because there''s clearly a point he''s getting at.


    "I have some of my memories now," Ahkelios says. "But I''m still... I mean, I''m mostly the past version of me. The one that was first brought into the Trials. And the newer memories feel like they''re from a completely different version of me. I think there were times during my Trial where I wondered what I''d think of myself if I knew what I was going to become."


    His voice becomes softer. "I know the answer to that now."


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    I sigh. He doesn''t have to tell me what the answer is. It''s easy enough to see in his posture, in his eyes, in the way he looks out over the city and clenches his fists like he can destroy a memory if he stares at it hard enough.


    "I think," I say, "that sometimes we just have to confront the things that we''ve done. It might be easier to forget. I know there are things I sometimes wish I could forget. But if someone actually gave me the option, I don''t think I''d take it."


    "Why not?" Ahkelios asks. He rubs one arm with the other. "It might be better that way, right?"


    I shake my head. "If I let myself forget, who''s to say I''m not going to do it again?" I ask. "I already forget things all the time. How many times did Tarin have to tell me not to be reckless? How often do we end up unprepared when we leap into something new? We can''t plan for everything, that''s impossible, but... I''d rather keep the breadth of my experiences. It tells me what I can''t afford to repeat."


    Like Miktik''s death. Even now, after a full week to process, it feels alien. It feels like it shouldn''t have happened. I''d spoken to her, and there had been no indication that she''d do something so reckless¡ªand I still don''t know why. I don''t know why she went off by herself into the Intermediary. If I understood her a little more, maybe I could''ve predicted what would happen.


    I can''t predict what everyone else does. But Guardian of Fate telling me nothing... it should''ve been a hint on how important it was to investigate what happened to her.


    "You''re thinking about Miktik again," Ahkelios observes.


    I chuckle, though there isn''t any mirth in it. "You know me too well."


    "I''m not sure it''s the same thing," Ahkelios says. "You''re just keeping yourself intact. If I take in all my memories, I might not be me anymore. I might be the person that learned to stop caring."


    "Then I suppose I''ve got a different question for you." I lean down a bit to poke Ahkelios in the chest. "Who would win? You, or the person you became?"


    Ahkelios blinks, his expression faltering. "I... don''t know."


    "If you''re so worried you''ll become him," I say. "Then you just have to make sure that who you are right now is strong enough that it won''t be broken by those memories. The version of you that cares has to be more than the version of you that doesn''t. Do you think you can do that?"


    There''s a long pause. Ahkelios takes a deep breath, and then his expression hardens. "...Yes."


    "You''re pretty sure about that." I smile. "Figured something out, did you?"


    "That version of me has more memories," Ahkelios says with a little shrug. "But none of them... mattered. At some point it became just about survival. About winning. About beating the Trial. He didn''t enjoy killing, it just didn''t matter to him."


    "And it''s different for you," I say.


    "Yes." Ahkelios''s voice is a little more firm, and he looks up at me. "Because you matter to me. And so does Tarin, and He-Who-Guards, and Bimar, and Miktik." He hesitates for a moment, then plows on. "You showed me that Hestia matters. It''s not just some torturous training ground."


    He looks up again, and as if the sky can hear his words, the clouds shift out of the way; the sunlight once again strikes the crystal of that broken citadel, scattering a rainbow of light out across the city.


    "It''s a pretty beautiful place," he admits quietly. "It isn''t my home, but it''s the home of a lot of other people. It''s just never going to be safe. Not as long as the Trial is still going. Not as long as the Interface and the Integrators have their hooks on this planet."


    "Well, we''ve made some progress by cutting off the Integrators," I say, giving Ahkelios a small grin.


    "That basically means you''re half done already," Ahkelios says, grinning right back. He raises a fist toward me, and I give him a fistbump. "Thanks, Ethan. That helped. I think I''ll keep absorbing those Remnants, but if it starts affecting me, I''m counting on you to kick sense back into my head, alright?"


    "And you do the same for me if I ever let all this power go to my head," I tell him, amused.


    Ahkelios crosses his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowing in playful obstinance. "You expect me to fight you?" he asks. "You just punched an asteroid across dimensions!"


    "And you have a direct link to my Firmament that nothing and no one else does," I say, ruffling his nonexistent hair affectionately. Mostly, that translates to aggressive head-rubbing, and he flails obstinately at my fingers. "If anyone can stop me, you can. Besides, I''ll listen to you."


    "Bold thing to say for someone that hasn''t listened to me a bunch of times," Ahkelios grumbles.


    "Those were directions," I tell him. "That doesn''t count."


    "Your sense of direction sucks."


    "Yeah, well, you''re bad at giving directions."


    "You''re bad at following them!"


    We bicker like this for a minute or two, falling into a comfortable pattern of playful jokes and laughter. It''s nice. It feels like a break from everything else that''s been going on, and considering how much has been going on, it''s a break that I''ve needed.


    Eventually, though, we lapse into silence. Talking to Ahkelios about whatever''s been on his mind was the last important thing on my to-do list before I begin making preparations for the next step, and now there''s really no excuse to keep putting off what I''ve been putting off.


    The Interface has a lot of messages waiting for me. I''ve been avoiding it, and both Ahkelios and I know I''ve been avoiding it. The end of the raid, whatever I triggered when I punched that asteroid back toward the Integrators, a whole slew of miscellaneous messages that I can only imagine has something to do with that... whatever it was I unlocked.


    That power, unrelated to Firmament but somehow lying beneath it all. The authority I tapped into that allowed me to command reality to change with nothing more than an exertion of will.


    Whatever that power is, the Interface has been panicking about it. The messages flicker in the corner of my vision non-stop, suppressed only by my will. And I''ve been avoiding it because I know everything else the Interface is going to tell me.


    I caught a glimpse of it before I closed the window and refused to look at it further. It''s why I''ve been avoiding the Interface all this time.


    The raid report contains a figure I''ve been wanting to avoid. Number of casualties. My fists tighten just thinking about it. To think that all of this only happened because the Integrators thought that this was a just and appropriate punishment for Gheraa''s act of rebellion...


    "You can''t avoid it forever, Ethan," Ahkelios says. He reaches down to take my thumb in one of his hands in a gesture that''s slightly awkward and mostly reassuring.


    "I know," I mutter, sighing. "Let''s get this over with."


    And after this? I''m going to bring Gheraa back. I''m going to figure out how, and then with his help I''m going to dismantle every last thing the Integrators have done.


    No more Trials. No more Interface, controlling and spinning the fate of entire planets. No more Trialgoers running their own private dictatorships in the name of the Integrators.


    I release my hold on the Interface.

 143 — Book 3, Chapter 2 — Reboot

    So much has happened since the last time I allowed myself to properly look over the Interface. So much has happened since I''ve gained the Interface, for that matter. It doesn''t feel like it''s been all that long, but it''s hard to put the timeline together in my head¡ªI''m aware, in an abstract sort of way, of all the events that have passed. The timeline of everything that''s happened, in order? That''s a bit more of a jumble.


    The notifications are a reminder, in a way. They don''t list out everything that''s happened, but there''s a history recorded in every ping of the Interface. It helps that there''s a list that sorts them all out chronologically, all the way back to the very first one I received.


    The one welcoming me to Hestia. The one telling me about the Trials.


    I skim through those. Reading through these chronologically is... well, if I''m being honest with myself, then it''s partly a way for me to put off looking at the raid report even more. But there is a purpose to it beyond that.


    It helps me collect my thoughts. Reminds me of all the steps I''ve taken, everything I''ve encountered, and all the ways I''ve grown.


    The next few notifications cover my harrowing first few minutes on Hestia, and I grimace as I glance over them. They''re basically just me being killed by Ahkelios''s Remnant repeatedly, not that I knew that was what it was at the time. The Interface called it a Broken Horror; I have the context now to understand why. To know what it represented.


    In retrospect, it''s... not a kind name.


    I speed up my scrolling. There''s me finding the Fracture, then the Cliffside Crows, then the raid on their little village that first put me in touch with Tarin and Mari. There''s a bit of a pang in my heart as I remember them¡ªI''m not going to see either of them frequently anymore. Not for a while, at least. I''ve yet to figure out how to extract the piece of the Interface lodged within Tarin that allows him to remember the loops, but he seems quite determined to stay with Mari from now on.


    He doesn''t want to move on without her. I can understand that, at least. It''s the second reason my next goal is the Empty City.


    The first, of course, is reviving Gheraa.


    Whatever it is about Integrator deaths that cause them to mark themselves so fully into the world around them is reflected in the Empty City. I get the same feeling from the Empty City that I do from the Intermediary; the only difference is that the Empty City is much, much older. It''s like... the imprint of a soul, burnt into the world around it.


    Whatever secrets I need to uncover to bring Gheraa back, I''ll find in there. And I bet those same secrets will be exactly what I need to extract that fragment of Interface Firmament within Tarin. It might even allow me to implant a fragment into others, if I need them to loop with me.


    There''s a lot of opportunity here. A chance to change the nature of the game I''m forced to play. If I play my cards right...


    I keep reading.


    Hestia still ends approximately 180 days after the start of the loop. I haven''t been able to investigate that in any more depth, but I have made some progress. He-Who-Guards is my ally now, and although they''re fragmented, he has some memories of what he encountered deep within the Fracture.


    "It is... bright." He-Who-Guards seems to search for the words for a moment, and I wonder if the Interface is correctly translating the word he chooses to use. "But not in light."


    "What''s that supposed to mean?" I ask.


    "I do not know." He-Who-Guards shrugs. "That is the best explanation I can offer. It is bright in a way that blinds the soul."


    If I''m being honest, it feels like a bunch of cryptic nonsense. The most important thing is that we both agree that I''m not ready yet. Whatever''s down there, it''s not something even a third-layer practitioner of Firmament can handle.


    Which brings up the question of what layer can handle it. We don''t know the answer to that. Premonition gives me a bit of a hint, but right now, all it''s telling me is that I''m not ready yet.


    Yet.


    I let out an aggrieved sigh, drawing a look of concern from Ahkelios. "Just thinking about how much we still don''t know," I tell him.


    "Should''ve asked Gheraa when you had the chance," Ahkelios says, giving me a lighthearted smirk. I roll my eyes.


    "I had a lot on my mind," I grumble. He isn''t wrong, although if Gheraa had known something about it, I suspect he would''ve told me. The fact that he didn''t says a lot in and of itself. It''s pretty clear that the Integrators don''t have complete access to everything that happens. I wouldn''t be surprised if they''re not entirely sure of what happens at the end of each loop, too.


    At least I haven''t had to go through the whole end-of-the-world thing a second time, though I can''t say the loops after that have been any less exciting. I scroll through the rest of the notifications quickly¡ªthere aren''t actually that many from my time in Isthanok, despite all the time I spent in there. Not a lot of fights, as it were. I spent most of my time trying to correct what happened to Rotar and Ikaara, and ended up embroiled in Isthanok''s conflicts in the process.


    I can''t say I regret it. Whisper''s obsession with a perfect city did a number on its citizens. Even with her temporarily indisposed, it''s clear that no one feels safe enough to speak openly with one another. The fact that He-Who-Guards has regained his faculties helps, but the city has a lot of healing to do, in more ways than one.


    My eyes drop to the final set of notifications. Everything that''s pending. Everything that I haven''t looked at yet.


    Two of them stand out more than any other. My eyes drift to the first one.


    [NOTICE: Integrator access to the Intermediary Network has been disrupted. Certain Integrated planets will revert to baseline Interface programming until access has been fully restored.]


    "Disrupted?" I stare at it, my brow furrowing slightly. I remember Whisper saying something about this before she vanished¡ªsomething about how the Integrators were no longer responding to her attempts at clarification¡ªbut she didn''t say anything about it being disrupted. That indicates intent.


    ...Now that I think about it, though, she sort of did.


    Whatever you''ve done, it seems Hestia is on its own for now.


    Is this because of something I did? I scan the notifications, trying to find anything that might indicate I caused something.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    "Ethan!" Ahkelios calls my attention to a window that''s almost hiding in the corner. I look over at it.


    [NOTICE: An asteroid strike has disrupted the Intermediary Network. Be aware that the Interface may not operate correctly while the damage is repaired.]


    Ahkelios is snickering, and looking at it... I can''t help but start laughing as well. I did not intend to send the asteroid back toward the Integrators. If I''d thought about it, I absolutely would have! But it simply didn''t occur to me. All I was trying to do was push it back where it came from.


    Now that I think about it, of course, it''s from the Integrators. "Guess they got what''s coming to them," I say with a grin. Ahkelios just laughs delightedly and gives me a high five.


    "You didn''t just punch an asteroid across dimensions," he says. "I take it back. You punched it across dimensions back at the Integrators. The entire Network''s going to be talking about this."


    "Sounds like a good thing." I smirk. "Means people will realize they can fight back."


    Ahkelios gives an admiring shake of his head. "If the Disconnected weren''t looking for you already, I bet they are now," he says. "I can''t believe you punched it back at them. Can you imagine their faces?"


    "I wish." I grin. "Maybe that should be my priority? Some kind of time skill that lets me see the past?"


    "You better share if you get one!" Ahkelios points a finger at me half-threateningly. I laugh.


    "Of course I will," I say, giving him a little nudge. "I wish Gheraa could have seen it. I bet he''d love it."


    "You better make sure I''m summoned when you tell him," Ahkelios says. "I want to see his reaction!"


    "You''re very sure I''ll bring him back, aren''t you?" I raise an eyebrow at the mantis.


    "At this point?" Ahkelios laughs. "I''m not going to bet against you."


    It''s nice to have the vote of confidence. I chuckle and look back at the Interface. There''s a second notification that was a lot like the first one, at least in effect. The wording, on the other hand...


    [NOTICE: Integrator access to the Hestian Intermediary has been temporarily restricted as outlined by protocol ANCHORED HERITAGE. Interface access on Hestia has been restricted. Interface programming on Hestia has been altered according to protocol ANCHORED HERITAGE.]


    "The hell''s an ''anchored heritage''?" I mutter, staring at the screen. Ahkelios stares at it, too, blinking rapidly.


    "Come to think of it, am I supposed to be able to see everything in your interface like this?" he asks. "I could only see your status before."


    "Huh." I consider that for a moment. "That''s either the Interface reprogramming or the fact that you''ve absorbed more Remnants. Hard to say which. Doesn''t matter, though. I trust you with the thing."


    "Now I''ll be able to be even more helpful." Ahkelios grins at me, and I roll my eyes.


    Glancing back at the Interface, I swipe through it, trying to see if anything''s noticeably different. I''m hard-pressed to state exactly how and where, but it is different. The status window itself is reorganized, and a bunch of features and categories are now laid out in tabs instead of in a single, massive window. "Honestly, this seems like an upgrade," I mutter. "It''s a lot simpler."


    "Makes you wonder why it''s not just the default," Ahkelios agrees. He pokes at the Interface window and grumbles in annoyance when it doesn''t respond to his touch. "I was hoping it''d work for me, too."


    "I think you''ll need your own Interface for that," I say dryly. "Don''t worry. I''ll help you get your own once we find the Integrators."


    Ahkelios somehow manages to give me the impression that he''s wrinkling his nose, even though nothing changes about his face. "I''m not sure I want that."


    "You don''t want impossible, easily obtained power?"


    "I think I like getting the impossible, easily obtained power through you just fine," he tells me. "It means you get all the downsides."


    I laugh. "Right, right. Of course. Fair enough."


    There''s a still a lot of notifications to get through. I''ll review my status last of all, I think. Right now, there''s a slew of kill notifications for the meteors, a few repeat ones for Anhar, an after action report for the raid, and several more about... that. About whatever power it is I''ve been using.


    The kill notifications are just a list of credits, so I dismiss them with a wave. The raid report I take a deep breath before I look at.


    [You have defeated the raid Fury of the Integrators (Rank A)! Your performance review is as follows.


    Citizens remaining: 211,642/211,873


    Furious Geodes destroyed: 9,488/12,000


    City preserved: 78%


    For preserving the lives of all your allies, you have been granted a skill: Spectral Guardian (Rank A)!


    For preserving more than 75% of the raided city, you have been granted 444 Durability credits.


    For destroying more than 75% of the raiding monsters, you have been granted 444 Strength credits.


    For preventing the deaths of more than 99.5% of civilians, you have been granted a skill: Field of Immortality (Rank S)!


    For defeating a raid against all odds, you have been granted 1,000 Firmament credits.]


    I stare numbly for a few moments. Ahkelios has to reach out to poke me to get me to move again, and I reach out for him, bringing him back up against my chest.


    "That''s two hundred and thirty-one dead," I say, tasting the number.


    "Two hundred and thirty-one is nothing," Ahkelios says, trying to reassure me. "It''s less than one percent!"


    "Percentages are all relative," I say quietly. "If someone''s parents died, it''s going to feel like their whole life is over. If someone''s little brother died..."


    I let myself trail off and shake my head. Now isn''t the time to get mired in the past.


    "You still did good," Ahkelios says awkwardly. It''s clear he doesn''t really know what to say, so I reach out and pat him on the head.


    "I know," I say.


    It''s not like I haven''t attended any of the funerals being held in Isthanok. I was there. Not for all of them, but I thought it was important that I was there for at least some of them¡ªthat I acknowledge that the fighting here had an impact on the city. 231 deaths isn''t a lot in practical terms. It''s practically miraculous, given the scale of the attack.


    I just don''t want to think that way. It seems cold. So I give myself a moment to grieve, to remind myself that those lives matter, and...


    "Interface," I say out loud. "Do you have the names of those who died?"


    It''s a long shot. I haven''t tried communicating with the Interface for a long time¡ªthe questions stopped working entirely after a while. But now that it''s been reprogrammed, there''s a chance it might respond to queries again.


    Sure enough, a message pops up a moment later. The list of names is long, starting with Anhar''s and continuing alphabetically, and both Ahkelios and I are silent as we stare at it.


    "That list looks a lot bigger when you spell out all the names," Ahkelios admits quietly.


    "Can you record all the names and send it to Guard?" I try, and although nothing appears to happen, I feel a sense of... acknowledgement. There''s a flow of Firmament. The command worked.


    Ahkelios blinks. "The Interface can do that now?" he asks.


    I shrug. "Guess there''s a lot the Integrators kept hidden."


    I''ve done what I can. As for the rest of the message...


    Two new skills. Spectral Guardian is exactly what it says on the tin¡ªit creates a guardian out of Firmament to protect someone, no matter how far away I am from them. I''m not surprised; it''s basically a skill that replicates what I did using Temporal Link.


    Field of Immortality, on the other hand, is powerful and terrifying in equal measure. For as long as the skill is active, people I designate as allies that remain within its range cannot die.


    The thing is, it isn''t a healing skill. All it''ll do is keep them alive until they can be healed, or failing that, they''ll die when they leave my field.


    Powerful. But potentially very, very dangerous. I can think of a half-dozen uses, and not all of them are kind.


    "Ethan?" Ahkelios asks. I can hear the concern in his voice.


    "I''ll be careful," I tell him. My eyes drop to the next-most significant notification. The one that''s likely the whole reason for the ''anchored heritage'' thing.


    [NOTICE: You have retrieved a Talent!]

 144 — Book 3, Chapter 3 — Talents

    There''s a whole mess of notifications that come right after that notice, but my attention is briefly taken up by the Interface''s phrasing. It says I retrieved a Talent¡ªnot that I unlocked it. Not even that it''s been granted to me. The way it''s phrased, I almost feel like it''s not something built into the Interface.


    "Interface," I say. "What do you mean by retrieved?"


    No response. I let out an aggrieved sigh. I don''t know why I expected it to start answering all my questions now. There''s a chance that the rest of the notifications answer my questions, though, so I continue reading.


    [NOTICE: The Talent you have retrieved is the [Anchor]. Note that another usage of your Talent may result in severe consequences, including but not limited to the severance of your Interface from the wider Intermediary Network, including contact with your Integrator overlords.]


    Yeah, well, a bit late for that, I think to myself. Ahkelios lets out a snort next to me, clearly thinking the same thing. The blatant usage of the term overlords there is new, too; it doesn''t feel like it''s a message written by the Integrators themselves. Mostly because they''re usually a little more subtle than that.


    [NOTICE: Second usage of [Anchor] has been logged. Talent signature identified. Processing...]


    [NOTICE: Protocol ANCHORED HERITAGE has been activated.]


    "I guess that explains that," I say, studying the notice intently. I wasn''t able to put a name to the ability before¡ªit felt like a combination of authority and speak and command, in a way that was difficult to find a specific word for. [Anchor] feels... correct. Or at least as close as I can get in English.


    It doesn''t explain what it is, though.


    "You did something weird, didn''t you?" Ahkelios folds his arms, still reading alongside me. "What the heck is an Anchor?"


    "I have no idea what I did," I admit with a shrug, my gaze flicking down to the next window. "The Interface seems to know, though."


    [NOTICE: A description of your Talent has been provided as per the Heritage Protocols. It is as follows:]


    [Anchor]


    All practitioners carry a Truth, but not all Truths nor all wills are strong enough to shape the world around them. To create the power that is Firmament, we first needed the power to Anchor¡ªthe power to will a fragment of Truth into reality.


    Know, however, that to Anchor is to pit your Truth against that of the world around you. One Truth must break for an Anchoring to succeed.


    Be sure it is not yours.


    I stare at the notification, unsure what to make of it; for a moment, there is no sound around us except my own breathing. That last sentence, the one clearly phrased as a warning¡ªit feels like there''s something more to it. Like there''s a kernel of Truth embedded in that warning, impressing upon me how important it is that I not allow myself to be broken.


    Whoever made this warning wanted to be very sure that anyone who read it would understand how serious it was. I only wish they had also given me more details. What happens if my Truth breaks? How can I be sure that mine won''t?


    Ahkelios breaks the silence first.


    "Did that thing say to create the power that is Firmament?" he asks, his voice slightly strangled. "As in this is part of the reason Firmament even exists?"


    Right. There was that, too. "It does sound like that, doesn''t it?" I say faintly. My voice sounds distant, even to myself. There''s so much to process. Too much, almost.


    I''ve apparently unlocked a small piece of a much, much bigger puzzle. More importantly, this might be a puzzle that the Integrators themselves haven''t figured out yet. Judging from my last conversation with Gheraa about it, it''s a blind spot in their information¡ªthey''ve noticed that there''s something there, hiding beneath all the layers of Firmament, but they haven''t been able to reproduce or observe it reliably enough to study.


    Neither have I, in all fairness. But even the momentary glimpses I''ve had seems to have unlocked something, and it''s something that could turn into a real advantage against them. If what I''m discovering is some sort of fundamental secret about Firmament, then I might have found a piece of what the Integrators have been looking for all this time.


    In fact... it''s possible that this is part of what the Interface is for. That''s what Gheraa told me, isn''t it? That the Interface isn''t even created by them; they were the first to discover and use it, but their mastery over it is incomplete. They don''t know the purpose of it, and they''re following its guidelines in a mostly-blind hope that it''ll lead them somewhere.


    Maybe I can find where it''s leading first. I certainly seem to have taken a step along that path.


    [NOTICE: Feature "Transcendance" has been partially unlocked.


    1/3 of the Heritage Protocols have been activated. Transcendance will be fully unlocked when all Heritage Protocols have been activated.]


    Scratch that. I''ve definitely taken a step along that path. Ahkelios and I both stare at that notification for a moment. I''m mostly bemused, considering how much the Interface has already thrown at me. Ahkelios, on the other hand, seems a combination of excited and wary.


    "That sounds important," he says. "And powerful."


    "And dangerous," I say dryly. I feel almost instinctively cautious, even if a part of me is excited. "The Interface clearly has its own game here, and it''s not the same game the Integrators are playing."


    "Yeah, no kidding." He stares at the window for another moment. "You''re gonna try to unlock it anyway, though, right?"


    "Of course I am." I let a small grin slip into my features. "I mean, imagine Gheraa''s face once we get him back."


    "Ethan..."


    I know what he wants to say. "Don''t."


    "You don''t know for sure¡ª"


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "I know," I say. "I know I don''t. But I need to try."


    Ahkelios looks at me, and I can tell what''s going through his head. This isn''t healthy, he''s thinking. In almost any other circumstance, I''d probably agree with him, but I just... have a feeling that it''ll work. And it''s a feeling I can''t shake off¡ªI''ve tried, more than once.


    Something tells me I''m going to need Gheraa to move forward. And didn''t the Heart of Hestia say the same thing when it contacted me what feels like weeks ago?


    ...This is all beside the point, anyway. I''ll deal with what happens when it comes up.


    "Transcendance, huh?" I say, changing the subject and staring back at the Interface. Ahkelios sighs, but decides to go along with it, climbing up onto my shoulder so he can read more comfortably. "I wonder what it means when it says it''s partially unlocked. The Interface doesn''t usually bother to tell me when I''m just going to unlock something."


    "It did say the programming''s different now," Ahkelios says. "Maybe that''s just one of the things that''s different."


    "That''d be convenient, wouldn''t it?" I hum thoughtfully. The Interface doesn''t usually do things for no reason. "Maybe that''s all there is to it. But I wouldn''t bet on it."


    "Figure it out later," Ahkelios suggests, giving me a nudge. "You haven''t even used your credits yet."


    I laugh. "Eager to see what happens, are you?"


    "Who wouldn''t be?" Ahkelios protests. "You have Inspirations to unlock!"


    "Yeah, yeah," I say. I glance back through my notifications one final time¡ªthere''s something I''m still worried about. Whatever it is that''s dangerous about Anchoring, the Interface doesn''t seem fit to elaborate on, which means I''m going to have to be careful if I want to keep using it.


    I don''t think I can afford to abandon it. The Talent is too powerful for me to discard. But until there''s a safer way for me to test its limits, until I understand what I''m actually doing... it might be better to shelve it, or at least limit my use of it.


    "Ethan," Ahkelios says, annoyed. "You''re overthinking things again, aren''t you?"


    "Am not," I deny reflexively. "I''m just thinking about the Anchoring thing. What happens if my Truth breaks instead of the world''s, or whatever the Interface means by that."


    "Not that I''m not also interested, but use your credits already." Ahkelios folds his arms across his chest, looking very much like an angry mother. I snicker a bit at the sight, reaching up to give him a flick.


    "Fine, fine." I finally open up my status window.


    [Status | Skills | Mastery | Inspirations | Dungeons]


    [Ethan, third-layer practitioner]


    Talents: [Anchor]


    [Credit Distribution]


    Strength: 1,221 (179 banked)


    Durability: 899 (632 banked)


    Reflex: 2,117 (360 banked)


    Speed: 1,147 (273 banked)


    Firmament: 1,715 (376 banked)


    [NOTICE: Interface currently running on backup protocol ANCHORED HERITAGE. Features and rewards may be different.]


    It really does look different. The organization of information is much cleaner; it''ll be nice not to have to look at an enormous list of things every time I look at the Interface. This is much more manageable.


    "I still can''t believe you actually made the whole Interface change," Ahkelios murmurs.


    I glance at him wryly. "Didn''t really sink in until now, did it?"


    "Nope."


    There''s still a pretty big question on my mind. According to both Whisper and to the Interface itself, the Integrators are cut off from Hestia. What happens when I bank in my credits for a skill? I''m past the threshold to obtain a new Inspiration for every skill category. Normally, banking those credits freezes time around me and opens up a connection with the Integrators, allowing Gheraa to speak with me and present me with my options.


    But Gheraa is dead. None of the rest of the Integrators can reach me.


    Who will I meet, if anyone?


    Only one way to find out.


    The choice of which category to bank first is an easy one. Of the five I have available, Firmament skills are the ones that are most likely to form the core of any combat strategy¡ªthey''re the outliers among the skills, after all. It''s not certain, but there''s a chance that I''ll get something I can build my other skill picks around.


    [Are you sure you wish to bank 1,715 Firmament credits?]


    I hesitate briefly. It''s tempting to hold on to the credits¡ª1,000 credits guarantees me a Rank S skill, but 5,000 will guarantee me a Rank SS skill...


    Nah. The only one I''ll hold off on for the time being will be Durability. Waiting for the next jump is a trap; I''m already low on skills after losing so many of them to the phase-shift. Either I''ll get enough credits to hit 5,000 again quickly or I won''t.


    I just wish I didn''t have to bank all of my credits. It''d be nice to save the leftover for next time. Maybe that''s an Interface feature I can unlock?


    Or maybe I''ll get lucky and roll something higher. I hold my breath.


    [1,715 credits banked! Rolling for results...]


    [Select between:


    A Stitch in Time (Rank S)


    The Road Not Taken (Rank S)


    Phasic Integrity (Rank S)


    Stasis (Rank S)]


    [You have unlocked an Inspiration. Bonus will commence once skill selection has taken place.]


    I breathe a sigh of mixed relief and disappointment.


    No Rank SS skill, but a part of me worried that with all the changes to the Interface¡ªand with the Integrators no longer having access in particular¡ªthat I wouldn''t get an Inspiration this time. It''s good to know that that''s not the case; I''ll need every advantage I can get.


    As for the skills... I have a difficult choice ahead of me. The good news is that I was right: my repeated usage of Temporal Link along with a time-based rewind skill has clearly influenced the skills the Interface is offering. The bad news is that this isn''t going to be an easy choice to make.


    A Stitch in Time is a skill that allows me to maintain two separate timelines at once, essentially allowing me to explore two options within a single loop. There''s an argument to be made that its functionality is limited¡ªit''s only doing what the loops themselves already do for me¡ªbut considering time-based skills seem to bypass loop-based restrictions like the permanent deaths in raids, I can''t afford to discard it just for that reason.


    The Road Not Taken is similar. It''s a skill that allows me to pick a point in time in the past and see what would have happened if I had made a different decision. It''s an informational skill more than anything else, but it''s instantaneous and allows me to explore much farther in the past. I could, for example, still use it to extract information from Whisper, even if she''s now going to be technically missing from the loops.


    Phasic Integrity does something similar to what Phaseslip does, but on an opposing scale: it reinforces my current ''phase'', so to speak, making it so that I can''t be pushed out of phase or forced away from a battle. More than anything, Inspect tells me this is a weapon specifically for fighting against the Integrators, which is... fascinating. Not a piece of information I would have expected the Interface to freely offer.


    And last but not least, Stasis. It freezes time in a bubble for as long as I can maintain it; the larger the bubble and the longer I try to hold it, the more Firmament it costs, with exponentially increasing costs on anything that tries to resist it.


    "...Do you know what you''re going to pick?" Ahkelios asks. "Because, uh, honestly... I have no idea."


    "They''re all amazing," I admit, but I find myself drawn to one in particular.


    There''s no doubt that these are all powerful skills, but...


    Miktik''s death. Whisper''s secrets. I have questions that can''t be answered without one of those skills, and if I use it right, I can mimic the functionality of the Stitch in Time skill as well¡ªespecially if I can regrow Once More into the Fray from that small, broken fragment I still retain.


    I''ll have plenty of time to get the others later. I doubt this will be the last time I see these skills. Their Firmament feels familiar to me, and if I try to peer beyond the layers of the Interface, I can almost, almost sense where those skills are kept.


    [The Road Not Taken (Rank S) obtained!]


    [Inspiration commencing...]


    Time freezes around me, but something''s different.


    The force of it feels like jaws closing in around the fabric of my existence. It''s nothing like any Inspiration I''ve had before. There''s an abrupt end to the movement of all Firmament, and I feel the strain on time like an ache in my teeth.


    More importantly, there''s something else here.


    And it''s not an Integrator.

 145 — Book 3, Chapter 4 — A Peek Behind the Curtain

    I stare ahead into the empty space in front of me, my entire body on alert. I can feel the hairs on my body standing on end like a static charge is passing over me¡ªevery instinct I have screams at me that something''s here, and that that something is dangerous. Fight-or-flight tells me to run, to turn and get away as fast as I can.


    But I don''t see anything in front of me. It''s empty space.


    Until it isn''t.


    Something changes between one moment and the next, and suddenly there''s something standing in front of me: something old and ancient, rusted with time and seething with entropy.


    "Hello." The greeting rattles around in my skull, making me wince. I grit my teeth against it. "You must be my Heir."


    I don''t respond immediately, largely because it takes me a moment to even be able to parse what''s standing in front of me. As far as I can tell, it''s a suit of armor fused with a humanoid, draconic skeleton; the gilded pattern on its armor continues straight up into its skull and wraps around seven misplaced eyesockets, and several thick golden tendrils trail from the back of its skull to its shoulders, almost like hair.


    It''s disconcerting, I have to admit. I''ve seen a lot of different things in my time on Hestia, but whatever this is, it feels wrong in a way that''s hard to place¡ªlike its very existence flies in the face of logic and reason.


    ...And then there''s a cough. It clears its throat once, and then a second time, and when it speaks again, its voice doesn''t rattle in my head quite so much. "My apologies. It''s been a while since I''ve been able to communicate with anyone¡ªmy memory of the rules are a little rusty. This should be better, yes?"


    "Yes," I say, a little thrown off by the sudden change. I''m cautious, but it seems... friendly?


    "I am Kauku." The entity in front of me bows slightly in greeting. "You will not have heard of me, but you have met me before. The Interface would only call on me to appear if you are my Heir. I assume you have retrieved a Talent?"


    "...I was able to retrieve the ability to Anchor, yes." I examine Kauku closely. The more I look at him, the more he seems less... intimidating, less wrong, even though nothing about his appearance changes. It''s like he''s actively adapting to the world around him. Stranger still, I have no memory of meeting him. What does he mean, we''ve met before?


    "I remember when I first made that discovery." Kauku''s voice is fond, like he''s reminiscing. He smiles at me. "You seem to have a strong soul. I''m pleased it was one such as you that managed to awaken me."


    "I''m afraid I don''t really know what you''re talking about," I say. "What are you? Why are you here?"


    "All in due time," Kauku says. "First, you have a selection to make."


    Around me, the world changes.


    This isn''t anything like how Gheraa presents Inspirations to me. Gheraa makes a show out of it¡ªhe puts the Inspirations on pedestals, sets up a stage, and basically announces every option I have. He uses Firmament to make the props, and though I''ve never been able to sense where the Inspirations come from, everything he''s able to do makes sense to me.


    Kauku, on the other hand? All he does is wave a hand. I don''t sense any use of Firmament, and yet everything around me is suddenly different. I''m no longer standing on a ledge by Isthanok. Instead, I''m floating in an empty void, with three abstract, rotating shapes in front of me. Inspect doesn''t work on them, and calling them shapes is already generous.


    "What are these?" I ask. Looking at them makes my teeth ache, and I turn my gaze away.


    "Your Inspirations." There''s a lilt in Kauku''s voice that''s playfully teasing. "Different from the usual fare, I understand, but these are rather more powerful than the ones you''re usually offered. Although... it does seem you have some of my children rattling around in you."


    "I have what?" I blink, a little nonplussed.


    "They''re afraid to come out, I think." Kauku laughs lightly. "I don''t blame them. The creation of an Inspiration is always a little tricky; you can never guarantee they''ll come out like you''ll expect. Void''s always hungry, and Accelerate doesn''t like to talk."


    This doesn''t even begin to answer any of my questions. I open and close my mouth soundlessly for a moment, then finally land on something to ask. "You said they were your children?"


    "Just a figure of speech." Kauku smiles at me, folding his arms behind his back. "I created them, and they are alive; it would be cruel to call them anything else. I regret that they had to be included in the Interface, in truth. If it were possible, I would have tried to raise them myself."


    I suppose that''s nothing new, but... jeez. It recontextualizes the way they make demands, the way they tend to act on their own. "I don''t think I''m equipped to raise Inspirations, if that''s what you were expecting me to do.


    Kauku chuckles in response. "Hardly," he assures me. "The issue is more complex than you might think. They are... half-lives, you might say. Alive, but only when lending you their power or being spoken to. And their ability to assimilate new experiences is limited. Until you''re as powerful as I am, it''s unlikely they can grow to fruition within you."


    "I have no idea if that makes me feel better," I say bluntly, partly because it feels like he just called me weak. I''m still not sure what to make of him, but he doesn''t seem to be malicious; if anything, he''s just a little out of touch.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I sigh, putting it out of my mind. I have more important things to worry about, like the reason I''m here in the first place. The Inspirations that Kauku created are still there, floating gently in the air. "You said these are different from the usual?"


    "They are indeed." Kauku almost seems proud of himself. "You understand what Inspirations are, yes?"


    "They''re... modifiers." I hesitate slightly as I answer¡ªthey''re a little more than that, but I don''t have the words to describe them.


    The draconic skeleton seems pleased, nonetheless. "Accurate, if a little incomplete," he praises. "Skills are Firmament constructs you hold within your soul. Inspirations allow you to modify those constructs. The difference is not purely academic: the structure of the skill itself is different while the Inspiration is acting on it."


    "And what''s different about these?" I ask.


    "The difference," Kauku says, "is that an Inspiration changes only one thing at a time. A single skill. These do not change the structure of a skill."


    I look at the Inspirations again¡ªreally look at them. Staring at them too long makes my head pound, and getting too close introduces a strange sensation of crackling electricity all throughout my body. If I squint, stretch my senses, and try to peer through the abstract shape, I can almost see something similar to what my past Inspirations have looked like.


    They look abstract because they''re a level above what I''m able to parse at my current level.


    I come to a realization. "These change the structure of my Firmament."


    "Correct." Kauku grins at me with sharp, metallic teeth; he seems to enjoy the revelation. "Traditionally, an Inspiration changes a single skill. They work that way for a reason: it''s safer. Changing the structure of your Firmament, on the other hand... that''s dangerous."


    "Because my Firmament embodies who I am." I step closer to the Inspirations. Not to make a choice¡ªnot yet, anyway¡ªbut to see what more I can learn from them.


    "That''s part of the risk," Kauku agrees. "I''d say it''s a small risk, actually. If the foundations of your first few phase shifts are strong enough, you''ll be fine. The bigger risk is that these Inspirations tend to leave a mark on you when you use them. The more you use them, the greater the risk a change might be permanent."


    "Can that be avoided?" I ask.


    "Of course!" Kauku almost seems offended at the question. "Any sufficiently skilled practitioner can use these without a problem. Of course, we''re greatly lacking skilled practitioners these days... but you''re my Heir. You''ll be fine."


    "You''re very sure of that." I turn to eye Kauku; he just shrugs in a surprisingly human ''what can I say'' sort of motion. "You can''t at least tell me what each of these are?"


    Kauku sighs and strides over. "You''ll have to learn to see them yourself eventually," he says sternly. "But since you''re just starting out, I suppose I can assist."


    He points at the leftmost shape. "Warrior."


    Now that he mentions it, I can sense within that shape the idea of... strength. Of recklessness and brutality.


    "Scholar." Kauku taps on the second shape. I catch a glimpse of vast, impossible landscapes. Of knowledge, shaped into a weapon.


    He moves on to the third, and this time, before he speaks, I start to sense what it is. He says it anyway. "Knight."


    That one sings with power. There''s something different about it¡ªsomething that echoes within Kauku himself. I see steel and armor, but they seem like an illusion, placed to distract; somewhere deeper in this Inspiration lies... a well. A deeper source of power.


    I''m stepping closer to it before I realize what I''m doing, and although I don''t reach out quite yet, I''m sorely tempted.


    "Made your choice?" Kauku asks. His voice is carefully neutral; I can''t tell what he thinks of my pick.


    "Not quite yet." I force myself to take a step away from the pedestals and toward Kauku. He raises an eyebrow at me, intrigued. "I know you said all in due time, but frankly, I''d like some answers now, and if I make my choice we aren''t going to be able to talk anymore." Technically I have a few more Inspirations I can trigger, but nothing about them is certain at the moment. "What do you mean when you call me your Heir? And what''s this about us meeting before? What role do you play in all this?"


    I hesitate, then push on to my last question. It''s a bit of a stretch, but... "Did you make the Interface?"


    Kauku doesn''t respond at first. Instead, he spends an uncomfortable moment studying my expression. "There are limits to what I can tell you," he says eventually. "I''m not the only player in this game, and we have rules we have to follow."


    Not this again. The words come out before I can stop them. "People have died. Fuck your rules."


    My voice is colder than I intended. Kauku stares at me as though he''s expecting me to take my words back.


    I do not.


    Seven skeletal eye sockets narrow slightly, but then a smile steals across his face. "You do have a strong soul," he says, pleased. "It seems I may have made an error in calling it a game. My apologies. The Interface''s translator is excellent, but it is not perfect. The point is, there are other individuals as powerful as I, and there will be consequences should I give you all the answers you seek."


    I bristle, but force myself to calm. There''s always something more, isn''t there? Kauku seems to sense my indignation, because he smirks at me.


    "That doesn''t mean I can''t bend the rules," he says. "I can''t give you all the answers you''re looking for. But I can make them accessible. I can give you direction. And I can help you do something you''re looking to do."


    He leans forward, and the tendrils behind him raise in tandem with the movement, as if excited. "You want to help your friend, don''t you?" he says. "That Integrator¡ªGheraa, I believe his name was."


    I freeze. "...Yes." There''s both caution and hope in my response.


    "Your suspicions are correct," Kauku tells me. Relief floods through my system. "Integrators are artificial Firmament constructs, and if you have an imprint¡ªlike the one you so cleverly saved from the echo he gave you¡ªyou can certainly bring them back. I can even tell you that the secret to doing so lies in the heart of the Empty City, so you''re already headed in the right direction.


    "However.


    "The Empty City is far more than just a dungeon." Kauku''s tone changes, becoming a little more severe. "You suspect it already. You understand what happens when an Integrator¡ªor any source of Firmament that has made a sufficient mark in the universe¡ªdies. There is history and memory written in that death: history and memory that contains power in its own right. History and memory of great import, even to ancient beings such as I.


    "So I would like to ask for your help." Kauku takes a step forward, spreading his hands apart, almost imploring me. "There''s something in there that''s important to me. A memory. Bring it back to me, and I''ll be able to give you some of those answers and help you save your friend."

 146 — Book 3, Chapter 5 — Quantum Model

    I hesitate for a moment before I agree. There''s no specific reason for that hesitation; Kauku hasn''t asked me to do anything I wouldn''t be willing to do anyway. More than that, he seems pleased that I''m his Heir, and while I don''t know specifically what that means, it does seem to imply that he has a vested interest in my success.


    It just feels like there are holes in what he''s said. For one thing, he''s already told me that whatever secret I need to bring Gheraa back is within the heart of the Empty City; what help is he offering, exactly? Is there something specific I''ll need his help for, or is he just offering to help make the process easier?


    "How exactly can you help me?" I ask. "Don''t get me wrong¡ªI''m happy to help. I''d just like to understand what this deal is." I pause. "And how just bringing you something is going to let you answer questions you couldn''t answer before."


    Kauku laughs at that last remark, shooting me a surprisingly human grin. At the very least, he doesn''t seem offended by the questions. "The rules are based on equivalent value," he says, a low rumble of amusement in his voice. "You''re asking for information that carries quite a bit of value, and saving your friend has quite a lot of value as well. I cannot give you what you want unless you offer me something of equal value."


    "And I can''t just... give up an Inspiration?" I ask, glancing back at the columns behind me. Not that I want to give one of them up, but I want to know what my options are here. Kauku snorts in response, folding massive arms across his chest.


    "Clever. But no; those things hold no value to someone like me." There''s a small moment of hesitation, then Kauku''s smile vanishes. To my surprise, he kneels, bringing his head level with mine. He rests one enormous hand on my shoulder. "I do not often plead with anyone, but... please, Ethan. This means a lot to me."


    "I''m not saying no!" I protest, a little startled¡ªand perhaps a little uncomfortable¡ªby how earnest Kauku is all of a sudden. "I will help you. But I need to know what form your help is going to take, so I can at least plan for it."


    "The Empty City is difficult to navigate," Kauku answers. He stands back up on his feet, dusting off his knees. He''s surprisingly calm suddenly, as if he wasn''t just on his knees a moment ago. "All dungeons are, but the Empty City is particularly so by intent. You may have gathered that the City was overtaken by a particular type of Firmament."


    "Color Drain. I remember." A lot has happened since reading that record, so in all honesty, the memory is fuzzier than I would like¡ªbut some things still stand out to me. The desperation to save a dying city. The corruption of all Firmament within that city, causing structures to collapse and imbuements to fall apart. The discovery that there was a plague of distorted trees rooting through the sewers and spreading that corrupted Firmament...


    "Indeed," Kauku says. "Some types of Firmament are more dangerous than others; Color Drain is one of them, if allowed to run amok. Even putting aside its other effects, it can be particularly disorienting on the mind."


    I nod slowly. "But that''s not the real problem, is it?"


    "It is not," the skeletal dragonoid confirms. He takes a step back, then waves his hand, producing an image of a broken, crumbling city¡ª


    ¡ªI narrow my eyes. This isn''t an image. This is...


    I think this is the actual city.


    It might just be floating in front of me, but I can vaguely sense the movement of Firmament within that city. The resolution of my senses isn''t quite enough to reach into it and see if my items are in there, but as far as I can tell, this isn''t a projection.


    I''m starting to think it''s more important than ever that I figure out what Kauku is. He''s said he''ll tell me, I know, and I trust that he will¡ªbut just because he''ll tell me eventually doesn''t mean I have to settle with waiting.


    This display of power doesn''t even seem to be a stretch for him. He''s just casually altering reality on a local scale.


    "Ethan?" Kauku''s voice prompts me gently, and I blink. "You seem distracted."


    "Sorry," I say. I affect a slight laugh, though it comes off a little insincere. "That''s just... a very realistic model."


    I reach out to give it a little poke, flinching as I feel Firmament rearing up around my finger. The dirt is still crushed beneath my finger, leaving an imprint. Kauku makes a sound that''s halfway between a growl and a huff, and he waves me back. "Do not touch it. It is delicate. Besides, you are missing the important thing."


    He gestures for me to look underneath the model and I do¡ªbut almost as soon as I do, I flinch, taking a few steps back. There are what look like miles of oily, inky tendrils, slowly shifting about beneath the surface of the Empty City; they ooze with corrupted Firmament, stray drops slipping off into the void beneath us. There''s an instinctive and visceral feeling of disgust as I look at it, intrusive and foreign.


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    "You understand, then," Kauku says.


    "There''s something in there." I try to push past the disgust as I stare at whatever this is¡ªa tangle of roots, connecting and disconnecting with one another, sometimes breaking off into formless void and other times spawning from the void. In the middle of them, though, there''s something that appears to shine through. I see glimpses of a prismatic co¡ª


    Kauku waves again, and the city disappears. "I apologize¡ªinteracting with that Firmament is still dangerous for you at your stage of development. I believe you understand, though. The city''s underbelly is constantly changing, and navigating through that mess will cost you, even protected as you are with the Interface and your skills."


    "And you can do something to help me with that?" I ask. There''s definitely some strain left behind¡ªa slight ache in my head, and an uncomfortable, coiling sensation in my gut¡ªbut I do my best to ignore it.


    "I can cut through it for you," Kauku says. "It will lessen the time that your journey takes. I cannot eliminate the danger entirely, of course, but I can guarantee that you will reach your destination within three branches rather than the infinitely many you would otherwise take."


    "I... see." I take a step back, trying to clear my head. There''s no reason not to accept his help¡ªthat thing looks like a nightmare to navigate on my own. "Alright. I guess we''re working together, then."


    I reach out with a hand. Kauku stares at it curiously. "What is this?"


    "You know what I''m going to do next, my motivations, and apparently half the secrets of the universe, but you don''t know what a handshake is?" I grin at him. Kauku bristles for a moment before he realizes I''m teasing him; he lets out a breath and chuckles.


    "You would do well not to cross me," he says, reaching out to grasp my hand. He sounds like he''s teasing me right back, but... I can''t help but think it''s probably true. His grip is firm as we shake, and he tilts his head toward the Inspirations. "You will make your selection now, yes?"


    "Yes," I say. I know what I''m going to pick, and I start toward it. The rightmost column for the Knight¡ª


    "Ethan." Something about Kauku''s voice makes me freeze in my tracks. There''s a note of... it''s difficult to read. Pride? Warning? A mix of both, I think, although there''s something else in there, too. "I told you the rules are based on equivalent value. If you give me something I value, then I must return an equal favor."


    "I... remember that, yes." Because he just told me about it. Where is this going?


    "You''re pretty interesting." Kauku smirks at me. "And you''ve given me something I haven''t had for quite some time: hope. I will not answer your questions, but I will give you something you need more. Two things, in fact."


    I have no idea how to respond. "Thank you?"


    Kauku snorts. "Do not thank me yet."


    He takes a few steps forward, stopping just in front of me; for a moment, he stares straight into my eyes in a way that sends a chill through my spine. All seven empty eye sockets seem to focus on me.


    I feel the slightest touch of pressure.


    "I have altered the parameters of your Interface," Kauku says. "Inspirations will no longer automatically trigger when you bank enough points for them. You will instead be able to trigger them manually. I suggest you do not trigger a second Inspiration until you have mastered the Knight."


    "There''s a reason for that, I suppose?" My heart is hammering, though for no particular reason that I can fathom. He seems to be impressing upon me the danger of this.


    "An evolved Inspiration like the one you''re about to take on will be difficult enough to deal with on its own," Kauku confirms. "Use it for a loop or two until you''re sure you have it under control. If you take on two of these Inspirations at once without mastering the first, your body will be destroyed. Inside out. It will be unpleasant."


    ...What was going to happen to me if I hadn''t been interesting to him? Kauku must guess what I''m thinking, because I see the faintest flicker of amusement, but he doesn''t elaborate further.


    "Use the Knight once you emerge and you''ll understand what I mean," he says instead. "And a second thing. You''re being hunted. Don''t let that distract you from what you need to do, and don''t let him fool you."


    I''m what? I open my mouth to ask a question, but Kauku holds a finger in front of his mouth; apparently, he can''t tell me any more. I try not to scowl¡ªhe''s given me good information as it is¡ªbut my mind is spinning.


    What does he mean, I''m being hunted? Why would I be hunted? I suppose Whisper or Teluwat might try to hunt me down, but I haven''t even met the latter besides a halfhearted attempt to manipulate me. Whisper''s down for the count and shouldn''t be able to recover for years yet.


    This feels like something else. But before I can think on it further, Kauku nudges me forward. I almost stumble into the Scholar by accident with the way he pushes me, but I manage to twist at the last moment and jam a hand into the Knight Inspiration. "Kauku, you can''t just¡ª"


    The shape coalesces around me and turns into a blinding light. Pressure erupts all over my body. There''s a distinct moment where it feels like every single layer of my Firmament is simultaneously trying to peel itself apart. I grit my teeth against the onslaught of pain¡ªthis is far from the first time receiving an Inspiration has been painful, but this is the first time it''s been this real. I gasp for air, squeezing my eyes shut to try to block out the light, and then¡ª


    "...Ethan? Ethan!" Ahkelios tugs on my hand. I blink a few times, trying to figure out what''s going on. He''s tugging on my hand kind of heavily.


    Oh. Because I''m dangling off the ledge and Ahkelios is barely managing to hold me up.


    "Don''t trigger Inspirations on dangerous ledges," he grumbles at me, but there''s a distinct note of relief in his voice when I swing myself back up onto the ledge. "What happened? Are you okay?"


    "I''m fine," I say. I can feel the Knight within me. Kauku''s right¡ªthis Inspiration is going to take a lot to use. It''s more alive than any other Inspiration I have, and unlike the others, it doesn''t stay asleep when I''m not using it. It wants to act, and it wants to act now.


    Might as well give it a test drive. The words come to my head without any conscious deliberation behind them.


    Inspired Evolution: Knight.

 147 — Book 3, Chapter 6 — Knight

    The first thing I experience is pain.


    Kauku wasn''t lying about the strain this Inspiration causes. It''s not just the way it peels away at my Firmament and tears me apart from within¡ªit''s the physical change, too. I stagger away from the ledge before collapsing to the ground as a series of cracks resound within my body. It''s not a sound so much as it is a kick of bass that''s accompanied by a wave of pain so intense I taste copper in my mouth.


    It takes me a moment before I realize that the sensation is coming from my bones. They''re realigning. They''re moving inside my body, snapping at the joints and tearing apart flesh so that they''re on the outside instead of within. Then they begin to grow, popping and cracking this time audible in the air itself.


    My body is physically reshaping itself to accommodate my use of this Inspiration.


    Part of that shift is the alteration and movement of muscle, skin, and bone. My skin turns hard, density shifting until it turns into a gleaming silver-blue shine¡ªnot that I can spare a moment to appreciate the color. It doesn''t help that I can sense a presence alongside these changes, guiding them, making each change as it sees fit; the Knight treats my body and Firmament as if it were nothing more than putty.


    It''s agonizing. It''s intrusive. It''s something foreign that''s decided I''m nothing more than a vessel for everything it represents. The Knight molds me like clay, making changes, turning me into a copy of it.


    My vision blurs. My fingers claw into the ground, easily slicing through the roots and stone beneath them. I see in the corner of my eye the sight of a gauntlet in place of my fists¡ªand this is truly in place of my fists, because I can''t feel the flesh and bone beneath it. Instead, pure Firmament forms itself into something that isn''t quite flesh.


    Not unlike what I''ve seen of the Integrators, now that I think about it.


    "Ethan!" Ahkelios''s voice is worried but distant; I can''t hear him quite as well. His words come to me as though I were hearing them through a sheet of metal, slightly distorted and with a tinny overtone. It takes me a moment to realize that my vision is restricted, too. I can see directly in front of me, but not to the side.


    My body jerks to its feet against my will, and I feel a momentary panic take hold. I''m not doing this. I''m not in control.


    And the transformation isn''t complete yet.


    I can feel my legs lengthening as I stand. My claws dig into the ground, and they really are claws, with sharp, pointed toes instead of ordinary sabatons. The Knight within me growls with satisfaction as they grip into the dirt.


    He takes an experimental leap.


    I fly through the air with a speed that surprises me. There isn''t a single skill being used¡ªno expression of Firmament, no reinforcement, nothing but the raw power of the Knight packed into every fiber of my being. It takes me seconds to cross a gap that should have taken at least a minute. I slam feet-first into the trunk of a tree, my claws gripping into the wood.


    And then I stand.


    Horizontally.


    The wood creaks with an ominous groan as it''s forced to bear my weight with nothing more than the strength of the claws digging into it, but it doesn''t snap into pieces¡ªI''m not initially sure why. It should be nothing more than splinters. It takes me a moment before I realize that the metal on my feet has extended into the tree, almost like a whole set of roots unto themselves.


    The knight roars. I feel my face split open, metal distorting into a jaw, a growl emerging from my throat that human vocal cords couldn''t hope to make.


    Okay. That''s enough. I try to assert control¡ªthis is my body, my mind, and no foreign influence is just going to take it from me. Especially one of my own Inspirations. I reach out to move and take a step back down from the ground.


    Nothing happens.


    I can feel the so-called muscles of my new body, even if they don''t exactly map to the human, biological idea of a muscle. I can send signals to those muscles, even, but it feels like I''m straining against something that has me completely bound. I push against it, forcing myself to move, to at least get my arm under my own control.


    The best I can do is make a single finger twitch. A snarl emerges from my throat¡ªnot my own, but a reaction to my attempt to take control. The Knight recoils from the touch of my mind and immediately begins to launch itself in directions I can only assume to be random, leaping from tree to tree and causing every one of them to collapse along the way. I can only wince at the destruction.


    Ahkelios is following along, I hope. And I really hope Guard doesn''t find me like this, because I have no idea what the Inspiration is going to do to him.


    Honestly, I just kind of hope I don''t encounter anyone while like this. I don''t actually know how the Knight would react. I don''t understand who it is, on a fundamental level. I can feel its mind alongside mine, but it''s a chaotic mess of thoughts that I can''t penetrate, no matter how hard I try.


    There''s fear, regret, confusion, anger... There''s so much there, just swirling around. I should be panicking, but a good half of my thoughts are focused just on that, on trying to figure out this being I now apparently share a body with.


    I need to take back control first, though.


    I try to disable the Inspiration¡ªonce, twice, three times. There''s no response either from the core of my Firmament or from my body. It''s like I''m completely locked out from myself, forced to do nothing but watch; even the sense of strain that I had before is slowly fading. Like the Knight is gaining more and more control over our shared body.


    Panic begins to rise within my mind, but I suppress it. Panic won''t help.


    I''m breathing heavily, sucking in inhuman gulps of oxygen through the void that''s replaced my face. The Inspiration is driven almost entirely by instinct at the moment, an instinct to protect itself and an instinct to express itself. There''s no goal here. It just wants to be. It might embody the concept of a knight, but it isn''t completely there.


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    I try to push past those layers of fear and confusion. There''s something there. There''s someone there. From what Kauku''s said, Inspirations are alive to a certain degree, and if that''s the case, the Knight is probably what a fully evolved Inspiration becomes¡ªan entity that merges with the person it''s partnered with.


    So why is this one so afraid?


    The answer comes to me: because it wants to be. It doesn''t want to be locked away again. It doesn''t want to become nothing, an element of potential in an endless void, waiting for someone to pick it out. It''s so afraid of that outcome that it''s forcing itself to the front, taking control, trying to run from a phantom it believes will turn it into nothing once more.


    I can work with that.


    "Hey." My mental voice is deliberately gentle, at odds with the panic and fear that clouds the Knight''s mind; it cuts through the chaos of its mind and settles in as a moment of placid clarity. The Knight freezes, jerking its head around, trying to see where my voice is coming from. "It''s okay. I''m here. I''m your partner."


    Anger. Suspicion. Rejection. The Knight launches itself away again, bouncing from tree to tree and barreling over a cactus that just happens to be in the way. The massive needle of that cactus just glances off its armor. "Not partner," it hisses. "No partner! Partners always end!"


    "I will not." I try to make my voice gently persuasive. The control we share over this body is tenuous¡ªKauku''s words about the strain of the Inspiration lingers in my mind, and I can feel, deep within, that I can only hold this for a few minutes more before my Firmament starts taking permanent damage. That doesn''t bode well for either of us. "But we need to share. We''re not going to survive if we don''t."


    "No!" it insists, but I can feel hesitation. It misses its old partner. Misses the connection, the friendship, the harmony.


    But the feeling of betrayal is stronger. "Not again. Never again."


    "I can''t promise you things will be different." It''s not the perfect thing to say, but it''s honest, and the Knight can feel my sincerity. "But I can promise you I won''t abandon you on purpose. Ever. We share a mind¡ªdo you see anyone I''ve abandoned?"


    There''s no answer for a moment. Then it replies, its voice guarded. "Brother."


    The reply strikes me like a physical blow. It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts and respond. "I didn''t do that on purpose. I tried. You can see that."


    "But it happened." The Knight''s dialect is getting a little better¡ªit''s picking up more from me as it peeks into my memories. "You did not intend to... be gone... when he died. But you were."


    It stings. The Knight''s words echo all the doubts I''ve ever had about my brother''s death, all the little whispers in my brain that told me it was my fault, that I could have done more.


    It makes it a little worse that the words aren''t even accusatory. Now that the emotions have cooled a little, I can feel exactly what the Knight is thinking¡ªit wants badly for me to be telling the truth. It wants me to reassure it, to convince it that this partnership will work. That things will be different.


    "It''s hard to make promises." I don''t want to lie, even if it would help. In fact, I could reach out right this moment and force control, I think¡ªdisable the Inspiration, force it back down and face it another time. It''s vulnerable because it''s hesitating, because it wants.


    But what kind of partnership would take advantage of a moment like that? It might be hurting me in turn, but it doesn''t know that. "It''s hard to make promises," I repeat. "But¡ª"


    Premonition activates.


    There''s a familiar flash of movement. Both the Knight and I react as we realize something is coming toward us at near-supersonic speeds. We reach out in tandem with one gauntleted arm, and a Guilty Chimer''s paw slams straight into our palm, creating a shockwave that crackles with Firmament.


    We don''t budge. Kauku wasn''t kidding about this part, either: the Inspiration is strong, and when we''re both aligned on what we want to do, it''s apparently enough to stop even a rank-A monster in its tracks. But we fall out of alignment almost a moment later. I try to grab the chimera''s paw and pull it into me for a kick, and the Knight instead tries to slash with a sword it doesn''t have.


    The Knight''s hold on our shared body is still stronger. The gauntlet clatters ineffectually against the chimera''s scales, creating a shower of sparks, and it roars at us.


    "But?" the Knight demands. It wants to know. It barely cares about the fight, about our lives being in danger. The chimera goes for a counter, gathering Firmament into a dense ball of power that barrels into our chest and cracks us against a tree, and though I try to react, the Knight still holds dominance.


    There''s a small crack in our armor. That crack comes with an alarm-bell of pain, more a warning than anything else¡ªmy body and Firmament can''t hold the Inspiration much longer.


    "You can see my mind." I can sense how important this is to the Knight. It''s important enough that it doesn''t even care about the chimera attacking us. It just wants an answer it can believe in. I let my awareness of the chimera fall away, too, because I need the Knight to understand how sincere I am. "I let that happen once. Do you think I''d let it happen again?"


    Silence.


    And then... acceptance. The Knight''s presence recedes just enough for me to take the reins, and I look up to see the chimera just above me, prepared to strike.


    The only reason it hasn''t yet is because a certain angry-looking mantis is in front of it, blocking the chimera with everything he has.


    "Have I ever mentioned that I love you, Ahkelios?" I say with a grin. The voice comes out of my helmet metallic and distorted.


    Ahkelios scowls at me. "Finally. Shut up and punch this thing already!"


    "If you say so."


    No skills. No need for them. The Knight''s intent lines up with mine, and we launch ourselves up, Firmament pouring into our fist. It shines just like Amplified Gauntlet would have.


    The blow shatters the Guilty Chimera, although just for an instant¡ªa split second before the notification flickers into view about its death¡ªI see something strange. A glimpse of... hatred. A glimmer of color and Firmament that doesn''t belong.


    You''re being hunted. Kauku''s words come back to me.


    It vanishes almost as soon as I see it, and the Inspiration bleeds away, leaving me human again. Covered in cuts and panting for breath, admittedly. The Knight still resides within my core, and I get the distinct feeling from it that we aren''t quite done yet. Learning to fight together is going to be a challenge.


    Ahkelios looks me up and down, then folds his arms across his chest, looking for all the world like an upset parent. "What the heck happened, Ethan?"


    I glance at the destruction around me and let out a hollow laugh. "Uh... long story."

 148 — Book 3, Chapter 7 — Time (for) Skills

    "You could have at least warned me you were going to try it," Ahkelios complains.


    He''s been justifiably upset for a while now. We''re taking our time and walking back toward Isthanok, although it''s a long way away; the Knight covered quite a lot of distance while he was out of control. I''m almost back to the Cliffside Crows. My memories of traveling are somewhat fragmented, probably because I spent some of that time fighting the Knight for control over our shared body¡ªI have a vague recollection of passing through the gates to the Great Cities, but I don''t really remember landing on anything that wasn''t a tree.


    I glance at Ahkelios, who''s still looking at me, affronted. "I know, I know," I say with a little sigh, reaching up to nudge him with a finger. At least it''s easy enough to follow the trail of destroyed trees, grass, and cratered dirt back to Isthanok. I can''t imagine what the guards at the wall are going to think. "In my defense, I don''t think I was entirely in control when that happened."


    "You weren''t in control at all." Ahkelios looks away, grumbling.


    "I mean when I used the Inspiration," I say. I can''t really be mad at his grumbling. A lot of his annoyance just comes from genuine worry, and every little gesture he makes reflects that worry. "It wanted to be used. I... don''t know how else to explain it."


    Ahkelios makes a noise in his throat. "And it won''t happen again?"


    I hesitate. "I don''t think so," I say carefully. "But I''m not ruling anything out. You get to manifest yourself whenever you want, but the Knight and I... we have to share a body. It''s not so simple for us."


    The little mantis looks away. That point hits home. The truth is, the situation with the Knight is more complicated than I''m ready to think about. For one thing, it''s both aware and strong enough to influence me. That''s something I''m going to have to keep in mind¡ªeven now, what we have is tentative.


    Trust takes time to build, and the Knight might be willing to put a little faith in me, but it doesn''t yet trust me. Not entirely.


    And even when it does, I''m going to be influenced by its thoughts and feelings. It''s a little like Ahkelios and me, in a way, though the way the partnership manifests is different.


    Even now, the Knight feels like it''s... sulking?


    It''s sulking. At least a little. It knows it can''t take over again without risking damage to me, and it doesn''t like feeling trapped.


    Honestly, I can kind of sympathize.


    "Are you sure you can trust this Kauku guy?" Ahkelios asks, changing the subject. I frown a little, thinking about it. I hadn''t actually considered how much I should trust the guy¡ªnot in depth, anyway.


    "I mean... I don''t see any reason not to trust him," I hedge. "But I want to find out what he is anyway. You know. Just in case."


    "Any ideas on where to start?"


    "Just a few," I say. "There might be something in the Empty City. He says there''s a memory important to him in there. That implies that he was there, doesn''t it?"


    Ahkelios hums thoughtfully. "Or that he really wants to find out what happened in there," he points out.


    "Or that." I sigh. I do have a second thought¡ªI''m pretty sure the Knight is related to Kauku in some way, the same way the Void and Accelerate Inspirations are supposedly his children. It''s possible the Knight knows something. The only problem is... well, I don''t think it consciously knows whatever that something might be.


    Inspirations as lifeforms are, as far as I can tlel, fundamentally different from most other creatures in the universe. They''re more based in concept than they are in reality¡ªin some way, they''re always shifting and changing based on their host''s perception of the concept they embody.


    Which means they necessarily lose a part of themselves whenever they''re bound to a new partner. The Knight has its memories, but most of those memories are locked away, buried within a psyche it hasn''t managed to align itself with yet.


    It''ll unlock those memories eventually, but there''s a long road ahead of us before that. A long road where we figure out how to work with one another and fight together.


    In a way, it''s nice to have another member of the team, even if I wish Kauku had given me a little more of a warning about all this.


    Almost on cue, I hear the sound of Guard''s thrusters. I look up, startled¡ªhe''s absolutely speeding through the sky, the crack of a sonic boom reaching me long seconds after I spot him. He changes angle when he sees me, aiming for the ground at my feet, and I take a few quick steps back.


    The automaton lands in front of me with a thundering crash that sends a cloud of dirt into the sky. Even as far away as I am, I find myself coughing to clear away the dust. Meanwhile, Guard''s singular eye is scanning me with a kind of desperate concern, and before I can say anything he picks me up and starts rattling me around as if he''s worried something inside me was knocked loose.


    "Ethan," he says after a solid three seconds of this. Ahkelios has relocated himself to the top of Guard''s head and is watching with amusement. "You seem... well?"


    "I was better before you started shaking me," I grumble, somewhere between irritated and amused. There''s a trail of smoke in the sky that implies he chased after me pretty much as fast as he could. It''s a little endearing, if I''m being honest, but... "Just so you know, shaking humans around like that isn''t how you perform a diagnosis. You''re going to give me a brain injury."


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    "Oh." There''s an undercurrent of embarrassment in Guard''s voice. "I apologize. I am... unfamiliar with diagnostic methodology for humans. And it''s uncommon for someone under my charge to transform and vanish."


    "Yeah, I wasn''t expecting that either," I say dryly. It''s convenient that he''s here, though¡ªI''m almost ready, and it won''t take me long to roll for the rest of the skills I need. "And I''m not your charge. We''re a team."


    "Right," Guard agrees, although with the way he looks at me, I suspect he''s saying that more to placate me. I shake my head, sighing, although it''s more out of amusement than exasperation. Clearly, it''s going to take some time before we''re on the same page.


    So I decide to change the subject. "How are things in Isthanok? Are we good to head for the Empty City?"


    "As soon as you are," Guard confirms. Apparently he isn''t all too worried about the destruction either of us have left behind¡ªfair enough, I suppose, considering the loop is going to repair all of it. It''s mostly Isthanok itself that needs to be stabilized, and anyone with damaged Firmament helped before the loop resets.


    "I just have a few more skills to pick." I would''ve picked them earlier, but the whole thing with the Knight distracted me. I pull up the Interface and glance at my Interface again¡ªwith what Kauku''s done for me, it makes sense to bank strength, speed, and reflex. As for durability...


    Well, after killing that Chimera, I have exactly 999 durability credits. Figures. I''ll bank it when I get the last credit I need.


    "Just one credit, huh?" Ahkelios doesn''t quite manage to hide the mirth in his voice. I roll my eyes.


    "Don''t rub it in."


    The sheer power of the Knight means I''m going to have to take it into consideration when picking new skills¡ªutility might be better than raw power if the skills in question aren''t enough to beat what the Knight can do on its own. Of course, combining the Knight with those skills would amplify them even more... but I don''t think either my body or my Firmament can handle that kind of power just yet.


    I have a long way to go.


    There''s also the fact that I''m not sure what kind of Inspirations I''m going to get next. If they function like the Knight does, then I''m going to have a suite of different evolutions to choose from, and it means I''m going to have to spend a lot more time understanding exactly how evolutions alter my skills and Firmament.


    Tentatively, I feel within myself and immediately wince, prompting a concerned, mechanical whirr from Guard. Evidently that''s not something I can test anytime soon. My entire body is still sore, and my Firmament isn''t faring much better.


    We''ll start by going ahead and banking the rest of my credits, then. I go through the rolls and make my choices after some deliberation¡ªunfortunately, I''m not lucky enough to get a critical roll on any of the stat categories this time around.


    But I''m not unlucky, either. I waited to roll my skills hoping that using Once More into the Fray as a time-altering skill would impact my skill choices, and it''s done exactly that.


    Strength, for example.


    [Causal Shattering (Rank S) obtained!]


    Most of the other options I had for Strength skills were varying degrees of "punch harder," with trigger conditions that ranged from reasonable to near-impossible to replicate. Causal Shattering was the only one that did something different, and since I''m both looking for utility that goes beyond pure force...


    It''s interesting. Causal Shattering has two possible outcomes. The name''s a little more poetic than what it actually does¡ªfor the most part, it shatters time in whatever I strike with it, causing various parts of the object to randomly accelerate or regress through time. A test of the skill on a nearby already-destroyed tree causes some fragments to heal to perfect condition, others to rot and age into nothing, and a whole fist-sized segment of wood is reverted into a seed that looks like a cross between an acorn and a lemon.


    But there''s a second possible outcome, according to Inspect. If I pour enough Firmament into the skill, if I understand the skill enough and manage to gain Mastery in it¡ªand this is the first time Inspect has given me any indication of how a skill changes when I gain Mastery¡ªthen it''s possible that Causal Shattering will let me strike a point back in time.


    Specifically, a point in the timeline of the person I''m striking. This skill, if mastered, has the potential to alter the trajectory of someone''s life. It''s going to take a lot of work to get there, but the potential is almost terrifying.


    Rank S skills are a whole other realm, clearly.


    And then there''s the Reflex skill.


    [Paradox Warning (Rank SS) obtained!]


    I got lucky with this one. Reflex, at almost 3,000 credits, is the closest to the next threshold¡ªof the four options I received, Paradox Warning was the only Rank SS one. The other three were, respectively, a skill that gave me faster thinking and two variants of Premonition that were a little more specific and could reach farther into the future.


    All useful. All skills I wanted. I almost picked Cognitive Accelerant, in fact, because it''ll make up for the loss of Compounded Mind. But Paradox Warning is...


    It lets me send a warning to the past.


    It''s by far the most flexible, even if the way it works is a little strange. Apparently, from my perspective, I''ll receive a warning about a specific future event. The warning is meant to allow me to prepare for the event, not necessarily to avoid it. When I encounter the event in question, I have to use Paradox Warning and send the message back, word-for-word, to fulfill the conditions of the skill.


    Functionally, this means I can send messages back into the past. The downsides are that there are phrasing limits, it has to be a warning, and I can''t send a message back to before I got the skill, which is probably the most disappointing part of it all.


    "What happens if you don''t?" Ahkelios asks.


    I make a face. "If I don''t... send a message back to myself, you mean? After I receive the warning?"


    "Yes, exactly." Ahkelios looks up at me, curious.


    I stare at him. "Do we really want to test what happens if we try to break time?"


    "...yes?"


    "I will admit to being curious, but no. Absolutely not. Inspect doesn''t tell me what would happen, but it does tell me it would be very bad. On a planetary scale."


    Guard, who is simply standing next to me and watching during all of this, shudders. "I appreciate your restraint."


    I move on and roll for the final skill to add to my list.


    [Distorted Crux (Rank S) obtained!]


    This one''s simple: as long as it''s active, the closer something is to me, the slower time passes for it. It''s something like a weaker version of a Timestop skill, but it''s still enormously powerful.


    I close my eyes. Even with all the power I''ve gained¡ªeven with the fact that I''m a third-layer practitioner with multiple Rank S skills and an Inspired Evolution that takes me to a level beyond anything I''ve been able to fight at so far¡ªsomething feels... off. Like I''m still not ready, even after everything I''m gained. I''m confident I''m a step above Whisper and Naru now, at the very least, but how would I fare against an Integrator? Or someone like Kauku?


    You''re being hunted. Kauku''s words still echo in my head.


    I''m not one to dismiss a warning. I''ll just have to be prepared.

 149 — Book 3, Chapter 8 — Review

    I take a moment to review my skills before we actually head into the Empty City. I''ve lost a number of them, and it''s... surprising to me, how much that fact aches. They shouldn''t even be alive, let alone sentient enough to sacrifice themselves for me the way they did. They''re Firmament constructs residing within my core, my soul¡ªwhatever you decide to call it.


    But I grasped at a Talent. I Anchored a Truth. For a moment, I made them something more than they were, and in that moment they chose to protect me.


    Any number of other things could have happened. The Truth I chose at the time was half-formed, a product of anger and determination and a wilful, stubborn refusal to let myself die. That''s all it was: a singular thought, ringing into the void. I am not going to die here.


    I know a little more about Anchoring now. Not a lot more, but enough to make a few basic assumptions and come to a few basic conclusions. I know that for a working like that to succeed, a Truth must compete against a Truth. And the competing Truths there were simple:


    Ethan Hill will die.


    Ethan Hill will live.


    I don''t know what happens if a Truth fails to become Anchored. I don''t even know how the process really works. My instinctive understanding of it, though, says that something had to bend in order for that Anchoring to succeed. It tells me that what happened back then was the path of least resistance¡ªand that it was more likely than not the only possibility I was strong enough to Anchor into existence.


    If not for my skills, if not for the way in which they manifested... I likely wouldn''t still be alive.


    Not only that, Isthanok would be destroyed. Most of Hestia too, more than likely. What kind of sacrifice was that, anyway? Why were the Integrators willing to go that far just to... what, punish Gheraa? By destroying me? They already killed him. It''s not like they can do more.


    Maybe there''s something more to it. Maybe there''s a reason they came at me so aggressively, threw everything they had at me within the "rules" they were constrained by. Maybe there''s a reason I''m being hunted.


    Maybe they''re afraid.


    I''ll be able to find out, thanks to Barrier, Second Wind, and all the other skills that poured themselves into reinforcing my core against the effects of the double phase shift.


    I hesitate a moment more, then call up the Interface screen. It pops up in front of me, shining a dull blue.


    [Status | Skills | Mastery | Inspirations | Dungeons]


    [Strength]


    Concentrated Power, Amplification Gauntlet, Causal Shattering


    [Durability]


    Crystallized Barrier, Verdant Armor, Field of Immortality


    [Reflex]


    Quicken Mind, Inspect, Premonition, Iron Mind, Paradox Warning


    [Speed]


    Firestep, Accelerate, Intrinsic Lightning, Warpstep, Distorted Crux


    [Firmament]


    Firmament Control, Hueshift, Temporal Static, Firmament Sight, Temporal Link, Timestrike, The Road Not Taken


    [NOTICE: Interface currently running on backup protocol ANCHORED HERITAGE. Features and rewards may be different.]


    I let out a breath.


    That''s a lot of my core skills just... gone. If I extend my senses into my soul, I can sort of feel the gaps they''ve left behind¡ªsomething like a set of scars in my Firmament, bleeding into the layers around it. They aren''t doing any damage, but there''s residue, for lack of a better word.


    Not any kind of residue I can recover the skills with, unfortunately. The Firmament is raw and pure, a kind of undifferentiated potential that''s being slowly reabsorbed into my being. Almost like a kind of final gift. It''s strange, feeling so sentimental over some missing skills. Second Wind was one of the first skills I ever received¡ªseeing it just gone from the list bothers me more than I thought it would.


    Maybe the skill''s still out there somewhere. It should still be in the Interface, shouldn''t it? There''s a decent chance I might roll the skill again, or maybe run into someone who has the skill, or maybe just find it imbued into something that I can grab a copy from.


    "I feel like you''re letting yourself worry too much about it," Ahkelios remarks. I blink, then glance at him¡ªapparently I''m letting my thoughts leak through our link.


    "Probably," I say with a shrug. He''s not wrong. "Just feels weird, not having it. Second Wind saved my life several times over. So did most of the other skills I lost."


    "And they did it again when it counted," Ahkelios says. "But you''re letting yourself mope over them too much."


    I snort, unable to help the grin that makes its way onto my face. "Not mincing your words, are you?"


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    The new formatting of the skills is something I can appreciate, at least. The skill ranks aren''t listed on the screen anymore, but I can still get the rank if I focus on each individual skill¡ªin fact, the Interface even does something it refused to do before, and gives me a little description of the skill when I do. It essentially consolidates the information from Inspect. When I focus on Hueshift, for example:


    [Hueshift] [Rank B]


    Allows the user to alter the color of Firmament.


    And if I focus specifically on the word color:


    [Color]


    An intrinsic property of Firmament. Color is an expression of emotional tint. For the most part, this affects the strength of the Firmament in question, although in rare cases it may affect the way a particular type of Firmament manifests its effect.


    It''s a relief to have so much more of the Interface open to me, and something about it directly explaining these things¡ªeven if I had to first manually learn them via Inspect or other sources¡ªis... comforting. Like it''s verifying that the work I''ve put in to understand all of this matters.


    Also, the list looks cleaner this way, and the skills are sorted from lowest to highest in rank. I can''t say I''m upset about it.


    "Ready?" Ahkelios asks quietly. Guard stands by, his engines humming a soft static that joins with the wind, creating a pleasant background buzz. I shake my head: not yet.


    "Need a moment to mentally reset," I say. There''s too much on my mind. Too much I''m thinking about. The Empty City is going to be dangerous enough without me being distracted by a dozen different dangers, and that''s with the help of skills like Premonition.


    I sigh, then take a deep, calming breath. Absently, I reach within myself for the marble of Gheraa-essence I still hold. For a moment, I let myself focus on the sensation of it rolling between my metaphorical fingers, feeling for that tiny fragment of him that still remains.


    I wonder what he''d say about all this.


    For that matter, I wonder what''s happening with Earth and with my fellow Trialgoers. I doubt anyone else has had someone like Gheraa manipulating their Trial. My eyes flick to the Interface screen, and I hesitate for a moment before calling up an Interface window I haven''t tried in a long time.


    It''s worth remembering that there are still stakes beyond everything that''s happened to Gheraa. Beyond everything I''ve learned about Integrators and Firmament. It''s easy to forget, when I''m off-planet and everything and everyone I''ve faced is someone from a different culture and world entirely. Hestia is beautiful in its diversity, and my home life wasn''t exactly so cozy that I''m yearning for it again, but I still have a world I''m fighting for.


    I think I do miss home, in an abstract sort of way. I miss not having to worry about dying. I miss the people there¡ªnot the people I knew personally, maybe, but the kind barista down the block that always made sure to add a little extra whipped cream, or the cashier that made an effort to make me smile, even when she was having a bad day.


    I miss when people mattered in little ways. When not every relationship was rooted in life or death. Not that I''d give up my bond with Ahkelios for anything, of course. Or the relationship I was able to build with Tarin and Mari. I''m going to have to visit them after all of this.


    There''s a word I''m looking for that describes my feelings about all this. I''m just having trouble finding it.


    I think it''s not quite that I''m missing those times. It''s more like it serves as a reminder.


    This situation Hestia is in. The one where so much power is held in the hands of its Trialgoers, who each seem to run their own distinct forms of dictatorships. The one where the entire planet is nothing more than a battlegrounds for a Trial that''s been going on over and over and over, at the cost of everyone who lives on the planet.


    That''s the fate that awaits Earth if the Integrators have their way.


    I stare at the screen I called up, pondering.


    [Chat disconnected.]


    I suppose I shouldn''t have expected anything different. I scroll through the list of names, many of them still lit up, but a worrying number of them now dim. Casualties of the Trials, I imagine. If anything, it''s surprising that as many people are alive as they are.


    Of the 3,000 or so people selected for the Trials, about 100 of them are dead. It... could''ve been worse.


    My lips tighten anyway.


    "Guard, Ahkelios," I say out loud, dismissing the screen. "We should discuss how we approach combat. We haven''t really fought together before, and my skills are different, so I''m going to have to adjust how I fight. It''s probably going to take me a bit to figure out, but let''s have a basic plan before we go into the Empty City."


    Ahkelios and Guard both glance at me, surprised by the sudden change of tone. It doesn''t take long for them to get on the same page, though. Guard gives me a severe nod, and Ahkelios does a little salute that he immediately tucks away behind his back, as if embarrassed. I smirk a little at the sight, but don''t let it distract me.


    "First, let''s go through our strengths..."


    ¡ª


    It doesn''t take as long as I expected. The conclusion is simple: Guard will take point, Ahkelios will harass at a distance, and I''ll stack my abilities for powerful hits in whatever ways I can. We''re not sure how effective I''ll be in the Empty City yet, and we don''t necessarily know how all my new skills are going to operate in combat or how quickly they''ll exhaust me. The strain on my Firmament clearly isn''t proportional between skills.


    So a lot of the initial fights will have to be about figuring out what I can and can''t do. What my current limits are. How long I can hold an Evolution, if need be. I can sense that I''m almost ready to try out the Knight again, though it won''t last for very long.


    So it''s good to know that the recharge time is... something around an hour, if I need it for a few seconds. At this rate, probably a day or two for the Evolution to be at full effectiveness.


    Good enough. I reach out to the Interface and prompt it for the gate to the Empty City. A golden key materializes in my hand¡ªwhich is new, actually. The Interface usually just opens it for me. I stare at it for a moment, then carefully stick the key into the air.


    Space solidifies around it. I twist, and I feel something give way; a golden doorway opens, and the key dissolves into nothing.


    Strange. Why the entirely cosmetic change?


    I''ve used this portal from time to time to store things¡ªmostly items and food from the Cliffside Crows so I don''t starve during my travels, though there was the entire person I stuck in there at one point to keep them prisoner¡ªbut this is the first time I''m actually going in. The floor through the portal is scattered with all those items, still perfectly preserved from when I left them in there. I''m pretty sure I''ve exceeded the time limit on the ''safe'' period in the dungeon, since I sent someone in there, so...


    There''s every chance we''re going to be attacked as soon as we enter.


    "Guard?" I say.


    He nods at me, and I watch as he takes a step through the portal. There''s a shift in Firmament...


    I narrow my eyes, sensing something strange, and step in after him.

 150 — Book 3, Chapter 9 — The Empty City

    Rhoran''s mind was fragmented, but he was slowly gathering himself.


    It was nothing unexpected. The Integrator¡ªformer Integrator¡ªwas held in place only by the meager mental structures he''d created for himself before this transition, and the trip through the broken Intermediary had maimed those structures even more than he''d been prepared for. If Lhore had given him a little more time, if any of the others had fought for him, he might have been able to build something more secure. More able to handle the torment of the dimensional phase.


    Of course, no one had seen fit to give him any additional time. Typical. They blamed him for what Gheraa had done and for what Ethan had been able to accomplish through him. Not Lhore, who had been there when Gheraa programmed the Interface to send Ethan those damnable skills. Not Nhava, who had been the one to suggest they send the damn asteroid after Ethan in the first place.


    Him. Because he''d been the Overseer in charge of Gheraa. Because he was supposed to have caught on to what the slimy bastard was doing behind his back. It wasn''t his fault Gheraa had betrayed the entire Integrator cause! What, just because he''d been a little rough with him? He''d deserved it, with all his snide jokes and comments and that remark about the size of his Firmament.


    You were prodding him first.


    Rhoran decided to ignore that stray thought; it was nothing more than the product of his fragmented mind. Subconscious and conscious melting together because there was no more structure to hold it together. He''d only barely managed to find something he could take control of¡ªthough even then, his control had been suboptimal¡ªand then that thing had torn it to pieces.


    He didn''t even know what it was. There was no record of any such creature on Hestia. He didn''t know why it stirred that deep and terrible hate within him, either. That was supposed to be reserved for the Trialgoer.


    Who was nearby. He was sure of it. But there wasn''t anything nearby he could take, and without first doing that, he couldn''t see what was around him. He could barely feel what was around him other than powerful sources of Firmament, and the biggest ones had too much of an identity for him to be able to overwrite them.


    Rhoran would have scowled if he could have. It rankled at him that he was stuck like this, little more than a viral sequence of Firmament with occasional bouts of lucidity. He was far from weak; there was enough identity embedded into his Firmament that he could survive like this for centuries, if he needed to.


    More than that, this was one of the only forms he could achieve that would both survive the broken Intermediary and camouflage him from Ethan''s ridiculous senses.


    He still wasn''t sure it was worth it. Being trapped like this in what felt like nothing, only able to sense piles of Firmament, with a mind that was barely kept together...


    Something flared nearby¡ªa source of Firmament¡ªand Rhoran dove for it instinctively, his entire being narrowing down into a sense of hunger and greed. He needed a body. Needed to be again. He felt his identity override the identity of whatever he''d touched, rewriting it so that he was in control.


    Finally. Physicality. Stability. If he gave himself another moment for his identity to fully take hold, he would be able to plan something to end this farce of a Trial and turn the Earth into something useful.


    Rhoran paused. The leaves on the forest floor seemed larger than usual. He reached out a small, delicate paw, then stared at the fuzzy limb he was moving with confusion.


    Wasn''t this one of Hestia''s prey species? What was it doing with enough Firmament to host him?


    Before he could complete the thought, jaws clamped around him. All his power did nothing when he wasn''t prepared to wield it. He felt the bones of his new body crunch, his heart pulp into little more than useless flesh, and¡ª


    ¡ªand...


    His mind stuttered.


    Who was he? What was he?


    He''d died. He remembered that much. He remembered pain.


    Pain, death...


    Reset. Mind torn again. He needed recuperation. Needed to mend. Needed to find... target.


    Hatred. There was hatred within him at the idea of a "target."


    And there was a direction for that hatred.


    He moved toward it, past the corpse of the fluffy thing on the ground, past the larger cat-like creature devouring its pieces, and past a rim of golden Firmament.


    <hr>


    Whatever strangeness I felt is gone by the time I step through the doorway. "It''s safe," Guard calls back to me, though I can see from the way he''s looking around that he''s still tense. I take a look around the room that serves as an entrance to the Empty City¡ªor at least at what should have been a room.


    It''s not one anymore. I frown and step forward, nearly stumbling when a loose rock crumbles beneath my feet; Guard catches me by the elbow and pulls me back before I plummet off the top of the building we''re on.


    "Careful," he warns.


    "Thanks." I lean down and pick up a fragment of the rock, my brows furrowing. It looks like a normal stone, but... even the slightest application of pressure makes it crumble like dust. I can sense that it''s hollow, the natural Firmament that would normally be within it drained of its color.


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    So is everything else around us, save for the things I tossed in. It''s mostly a scattering of preserved food, the Firmament sink I''ve built, and various other odds and ends I''ve tossed in in case it might be useful. I reach down to pocket the Firmament sink.


    "Is it just me, or does this place look different?" Ahkelios asks, looking around.


    "I don''t think the portal ever opened on top of a building." I frown a little, poking at the rooftop with my foot. It looks like concrete, but it''s almost disturbingly soft.


    "So why''s all your stuff here?" Ahkelios hops off my shoulder to poke at the food. "Shouldn''t it be... wherever the room was?"


    "I don''t know." I don''t even know where that room might have been. I pivot in place, scanning the horizon and taking in the sights of the Empty City. The name certainly fits¡ªit looks desolate and abandoned, full of crumbling towers and decayed homes. It actually looks a little like an Earth city, and I feel a pang of something like homesickness as I stare down at it.


    But something else stands out to me. What I remember of the logs about this place tells me that it should be, that the Firmament infestation here should have destroyed nearly everything.


    And it''s not that it hasn''t. Color Drain Firmament¡ªalthough now that I''m here, it doesn''t feel the same as the Color Drain skill I used to have¡ªhas more than certainly sucked the life out of almost everything. The buildings, the streets, and even the signs all make me feel like I''m staring at something on an old black-and-white television set.


    But there are... plants. Colorful plants. Wildlife has grown over most of the decaying buildings, and not all of that wildlife seems subject to the same phenomenon. I see massive flowers attached to the sides of decaying buildings, blooming with so much color that a glance at it almost hurts my eyes. It feels like I''m staring at something impossible.


    The whole landscape is dotted with plants like that. Not all of them are flowers, of course; there are vines, mushrooms, wooden-looking roots that crack through buildings and shine with multicolored pustules. Looking at them sends a crack of foreign disgust through me, like something inside me is rebelling at the sight of it.


    I''m not the only one. Guard makes a low noise of discomfort, a robotic hum as he takes a step back from the edge. "This place is strange."


    "It''s overtaken by a type of Firmament that went haywire, according to Kauku. Color Drain Firmament." The words taste strange even as I say them¡ªlike something about them aren''t quite right. I don''t have the full picture, and I won''t until I figure out what went wrong here.


    "I have not heard of Firmament... ''going haywire'' like this, as you put it." I can hear a frown in Guard''s voice. "Those plants in the distance¡ªmy sensors tell me they''re dangerous. We should avoid them."


    "Dangerous how?" I try to take another look, but almost immediately wince again, my senses overloaded. It''s like they''re oversaturated streaks in the otherwise bland landscape, and I can''t tell if it''s because everything else is dull or if it''s a specific side-effect of the Firmament that caused all this.


    "They are sensory dangers," Guard murmurs softly. There''s a click from his body, and I notice a pulse of Firmament radiate outward. "But the larger flowers are also... hiding something, I believe. It''s difficult for me to tell."


    I close my eyes entirely, reaching out through my Firmament sense instead to try to sense whatever it is the robot can. My range is so much farther than it was before, but even then, the flowers are right on the edge of them. I can sense a core of what feels like inverted Firmament, and then behind that, something...


    I mutter a curse under my breath. "I don''t think we can."


    Guard glances at me. "There''s something important there?"


    "I don''t know." I hesitate. It does feel like there are important things hidden within the flowers, but I can''t tell what they are¡ªin fact, the only reason I can tell they''re there at all is because the way Firmament warps and twists around them. But the way that Firmament is warping...


    Kauku mentioned he was looking for a memory. That the Empty City was full of memories. If there''s anything right now that screams to me that it''s a memory, it''s whatever these things are¡ªthe Firmament that interacts with it is twisted to intense color, intense emotion.


    And I agreed to help Kauku find a memory, so I''m going to have to sort through these. I grimace. Now that I think about it, he never specified what memory he was looking for. I''m not ready yet to trigger one of the waiting Inspirations to speak to him again¡ªthe Knight is still settling within me, and I doubt using it is going to be much easier even with the Inspiration on my side.


    "I think we''ll at least have to check them out," I finally say. "It''s a lead, and we''re short on those. The dungeon doesn''t exactly come with directions."


    Guard gives me a slightly doubtful look, but nods. "You decide where to start, and I will lead the way."


    I glance down the building. "We can probably start down there," I say dryly. There''s an enormous blue blossom right at the base of the building we''re in. Just looking at it cuts me to my core with something that feels like sadness¡ªwhatever emotion is in that memory, it''s not a happy one.


    Ahkelios makes a noise behind me. "Something feels weird," he says, climbing back up onto my shoulder. I glance at him.


    "Something about the food?" I ask. He''s been inspecting the food for the past few minutes. Ahkelios shakes his head.


    "It felt weird for a bit, but I don''t think so?" he says, rubbing one of his arms nervously. "It just feels like we''re being watched. I don''t like it."


    I glance at Guard, and he shakes his head slightly. I frown¡ªI don''t sense anything strange either, at least not anything like what Ahkelios is talking about. But if he senses something...


    "Keep an eye out," I tell him. "Let''s not let anything catch us off guard."


    Ahkelios nods, and Guard begins to lead the way down from the roof. I follow after him, lost in thought.


    Memories. The closer we get to the flower, the more I remember. It''s been some time since I read that opening entry to this city''s final logs, but the first entry blooms in my mind, suddenly crystal clear.


    It is the 4,625th day of Awakening.


    I am afraid.


    The Elders tell us that all will be well, that the Record we are creating is merely educational ¡ª but I can feel in the Firmament that there is a great change coming. I do not know what that change is, but I fear it will spell the end of everything I hold dear, and I am afraid.


    Perhaps this is irrational of me. I have little evidence to support these thoughts. The Seers have sounded no alarms, and our people are all healthy. My two sons flourish in their classes. They excel with the Firmament, creating wonders previously unheard of. Perhaps the fear I feel now is simply the fear of an old woman, and yet...


    Every day, the trees seem a little more dead. Every day, the sky loses a little more color. I have been to the Healers, and I have been told that my eyes are fine; all three of them are perfectly functional.


    I do not know what I am seeing. I do not know why I am the only person that sees it. The Awakening could be the cause, and yet I show no other signs of being Awakened. My Firmament levels remain stable, and there is no hint of a phase-shift or any of the associated phenomena. I have to assume what I feel is mere paranoia, and yet...


    And yet.


    Only time will tell.


    The Empty City is supposed to be the remnant of an Integrator corpse, isn''t it? It gives me the same feeling Gheraa''s death does¡ªthat sense of something being rotted into the world, a death so profound it''s warped reality around it. If that''s true, then those logs I read are almost certainly from the person who died.


    But those logs don''t seem to be from the perspective of an Integrator.


    What am I missing?


    A notification floats into my vision.


    [Ritual: The Empty City has begun. Each Ritual stage will be linked with your loops. Progress within the Empty City will be saved after each Ritual stage.


    Ritual stages may reveal more about your connection with your Firmament.


    Current Ritual stage: 1/5]

 151 — Book 3, Chapter 10 — Rituals

    Guard takes point as he leads us down the stairwell of the building, his metal feet clanking against the concrete. It''s the only sound in the otherwise eerily silent Empty City, and the way it echoes along the stairs is... admittedly a little unnerving. It doesn''t help that the colorless nature of our surroundings makes everything unnaturally dim. Guard''s core is the only real source of light, but its prismatic colors don''t make a difference in the gloomy, corrupted corridors we find ourselves in.


    Even with that source of light, I find myself having to channel Firmament into my eyes to make things out more clearly. Just me, though: apparently, both Guard and Ahkelios can see in the dark just fine. It''s a good thing I picked this trick up from Tarin, or I''d be doing a lot more stumbling through the dark right now.


    At least I have that Interface notice to distract me. I glance at it again, trying to figure out what it means. Ritual stages, and five of them in total...


    More than that, there''s something about this that''s different from most of the notifications the Interface has given me. For one thing, it''s rare for me to even get a hint about the rewards I might receive from an Interface event. I''m pretty sure this is the first time it''s directly mentioned a reward for completing something, and even then, it''s being frustratingly vague about it.


    Ritual stages may reveal more about your connection with your Firmament.


    Most Interface rewards come in the form of Inspirations, credits, or skills. I can''t decide if the offer to just reveal something is tantalizing or worrying, and more to the point, there''s something about the timing of this notification that bothers me.


    Or maybe it''s the way it''s set up. It feels convenient, but more than that, it feels... familiar.


    "Ritual stages, huh?" Ahkelios says. He''s been silent for a while, hopping along the stairwell to try to scout out anything that might lie ahead, but now he''s joined me on my shoulder once more.


    I glance at him. "You know something about them?"


    "I think so." Ahkelios leans in to get a closer look. "I got them once or twice. They usually show up if a dungeon has something important you need to do. Sort of like a list of tasks."


    "A list of tasks..." My voice trails off as I read through the notice again.. "It''s not exactly telling me what it wants me to do."


    "Yeah, the Interface is kinda weird about that." Ahkelios grimaces a bit. "A Ritual only triggers if a dungeon has different... states of being, I guess? Basically, when you complete a Ritual stage, the whole dungeon evolves in some way. Sometimes that evolution is minor, sometimes the whole place changes. I''d call it interesting, but it usually just means the dungeon gets way more dangerous."


    Well, I can''t say that''s something I didn''t expect. I sigh. "And the Interface isn''t going to tell me how to complete the Ritual stage, I take it."


    "Not directly. At least not at first." Ahkelios hesitates for a moment. "It tells you more the further along you are, but the first stage is usually just something like an initiation process. It''s always something big and obvious, close to the point where you get a notification about the Ritual."


    "Which means the notification is location based," I mutter. I wonder if that''s why the portal opened to a different spot. Specifically, I''m wondering if Kauku has something to do with this. He''d mentioned helping me get through the Empty City more quickly, and even though he''d been talking about the sewers underneath at the time, I wouldn''t be surprised if this Ritual thing has something to do with him.


    Or maybe something to do with that memory he wants me to retrieve. It''s not like he''s told me anything about it. An oversight, on my part¡ªI should have asked for clarification¡ªbut it''s too late now, and I have a nagging feeling he wouldn''t have told me much anyway.


    No, he seems like the type to try to lead me there indirectly. Given the limitations he''s told me he''s operating under, I''m assuming he''s trying to minimize the amount of direct help he gives me.


    A small voice whispers to me: what could possibly make something like him operate under any limitation at all? I brush off the thought; it''s certainly worrying, but it''s not something I can act on at the moment. I''ll just have to keep it in mind.


    If this is Kauku guiding me, it explains all the changes¡ªthe way the dungeon manifested as a key instead of a simple portal, the movement of the items I''ve stored in here, and the change in starting position. And if this is Kauku guiding me, then the next question would be...


    "Can you fail a Ritual?"


    My words echo in the concrete. There''s a brief silence from Ahkelios, and I can feel a flicker of emotion trickling down through our bond¡ªa sudden, deep sadness. When he speaks, there''s a tremble in his voice.


    "Yes." He doesn''t elaborate for a moment, and there''s something small about his words, about the way he carries himself. "The loop resets the stages, though. So failure usually isn''t permanent."


    "I see." I observe Ahkelios for a moment¡ªhe''s clearly trying to shake whatever mood he''s in off. I reach out for him, and after a moment, he climbs onto my hand and sighs.


    "I feel like I''m remembering something," he says quietly. "I didn''t remember until you asked about a Ritual failing. I''m really sad. I don''t know why."


    "It''s important, isn''t it?" I keep my words gentle, and I keep him held in my hands. Guard remains quiet, seeming to sense the importance of this conversation.


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    "Yes." The little mantis takes a deep breath. He doesn''t need to breathe, but the move seems to help him relax. "The Ritual stages are tied to... something. It''s some kind of Integrator trap. I''m trying to remember."


    I can tell, from the way he''s drawing more Firmament from me. The process is clearly painful for him, and I lend him support the best I can, strengthening the link between our minds and cupping my hands so he can lean against my palm. Ahkelios staggers, his artificial breathing growing deeper; he almost seems like he''s panting. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his hands clench, he squeezes his eyes shut...


    And then he lets out a breath. His hands unclench. His breathing slows until he returns to the signature stillness of a creature made out of Firmament instead of flesh.


    He opens his eyes.


    "I really didn''t want to remember that," he says quietly. "I think that''s part of it. Sometimes a part of me fights remembering, and those memories are harder to access than others."


    "Thank you," I say. It seems more appropriate than I''m sorry. Ahkelios shakes his head, but I see the appreciation in his eyes.


    "Rituals and dungeons in general seem like an aspect of the Interface that the Integrators don''t really want you messing with," he explains. Considering what I suspect about dungeons, it''s not exactly surprising. "They can''t stop you from doing them¡ªit''s a part of the Interface they clearly don''t have control over¡ªbut they can make sure that trying to complete them is more trouble than it''s worth. I think they have a problem with Rituals in particular."


    "Of course they do." It''s not exactly a surprise, but everything I learn about the Integrators mostly just pisses me off more. "I take it something happens when you fail a Ritual stage?"


    "It might be different for you," Ahkelios says. "The Integrators are cut off from Hestia right now. But you remember what I said, right? About dungeons being loop-independent?"


    "Unless Ritual stages are involved, apparently," I say, glancing at the notification again. Ahkelios nods.


    "Dungeons are exempt from the barrier around the planet. They aren''t part of the loop, and they aren''t exclusive to you. To us."


    I catch the implications of this immediately. "You''re saying other humans might be in this dungeon?"


    Ahkelios grimaces. "Don''t count on it," he says, sounding a little guilty. "Sorry, I didn''t mean to imply that. You unlocked one of the rarest dungeons possible. I doubt anyone else has access to it. The problem is, failing a Ritual stage creates backlash, and that backlash isn''t just going to hit you. It can tear open holes to other people''s Trials, put them in danger..."


    He trails off, and I watch him for a moment. It''s not hard to figure out what happened. "You lost someone."


    Ahkelios nods. I can feel an immense sadness radiating down through our bond¡ªhe feels things so strongly sometimes. It''s at odds with how he''s usually the more ruthless of the two of us; sometimes, I wonder how much the Trials really changed him.


    "I can''t even remember who," he says with a sigh. "I think I knew her before the Trials, though. And I think we were... close."


    "I''m sorry for what you lost," I say. Ahkelios forces himself to shrug.


    "It''s nothing we can change now." He looks away for a moment, recomposing himself. By the time he looks back, he''s not exactly smiling, but that sense of immense sadness echoing down through our bond has largely faded. "We should focus on the future. Make sure it doesn''t happen again."


    "We will." I lock eyes with Ahkelios, and after a moment, he nods.


    "Failing a Ritual stage is different from dying, by the way," he says, almost like he''s trying to change the subject. "You can die as much as you want; it''ll just reset both the loop and the stage. But there every Ritual stage has something like... conditions. If you complete it without all those conditions being met, it''s counted as a failure, and sometimes the Integrators get tricky about it."


    "Got it." The fact that a death doesn''t count as a failure and still resets the stage is strange, although it''s also useful. It means I can forcibly reset a stage if I have to. I''m not exactly looking forward to it, but it''s better than the blowback Ahkelios is talking about.


    Probably.


    A thought occurs to me.


    If these Rituals can blow back into other Trials, then there''s a good chance that whatever boundary separates me from those other Trials is weaker here. The fact that it''s even possible for other Trialgoers to enter the same dungeon implies that this is an intended feature: in a normal Trial, a Trialgoer might be able to use the chat function to team up with others and complete a dungeon.


    My Trial, of course, is anything but normal. The temporal barrier that extends around Hestia might not reach into the dungeons, but¡ªI check the chat feature just to be sure, and it remains disconnected¡ªit''s clearly still enough to interfere with my ability to interact with other people from Earth.


    And yet...


    Those barriers are still weaker here. Which means that I might be able to do something. If a failed Ritual stage can backfire to the point where it affects other Trials and other Trialgoers¡ªif Trialgoers can all enter the same dungeon together¡ªthen, much like the Intermediaries, they connect different, distinct spaces together.


    The normal approach to reach other planets, as I understand it, is by using gateways that fundamentally utilize the Intermediaries. I''ve never seen any of them, because they aren''t open during a Trial.


    But maybe they aren''t the only way. If I can push Phaseslip farther, if I can figure out what connection the dungeons have to the Integrators and the Interface as a whole...


    Then I might not be stuck on Hestia much longer. I might not be isolated from the other Trials much longer. And if that''s true, then the Integrators are going to have a whole lot more to worry about than just one Trial gone awry.


    "I can feel you planning again," Ahkelios remarks. "You make a scary face when you do that, you know."


    "What? I do not." I''m a little thrown out of my train of thought by Ahkelios''s remark, but he does make me grin. Truth is, of course, that I have no idea what I look like when I''m planning. It''s just the principle of the matter.


    "You do." Guard sounds amused.


    I feign an exasperated scoff. "I don''t need both of you harassing me about my plans."


    "We''re not!" Ahkelios says. "We love your plans. They''re good plans."


    Guard waits for a bit, then adds, "Mostly."


    I roll my eyes, but a smirk tugs at my mouth. "Let''s not get too distracted here. We''re still in a dungeon, remember?"


    Beneath us, a blue glow slowly grows. We''re getting closer to the first flower, presumably to what will initiate the Ritual, and to uncovering what''s really going on with this dungeon.


    I think I''m looking forward to it.

 152 — Book 3, Chapter 11 — Stage 1: The Seed // Ahkelios

    You were a painter once.


    You saw the world in colors no other mantodean could. Close one eye, and the painting shifts¡ªyour sight was your pride. Your first love glowed in your sight, didn''t she? Her carapace glowed with streaks of ultragold and silverine; to you, she was a living work of art.


    And now that sight is gone. Struck permanently from the record that is your Firmament. You will always remember what you had. You will always know you can never have it again. How does that feel, I wonder, to have something so integral to your sense of self removed?


    Even as you are now¡ªreduced, lesser, a mere fragment of the sum of your parts¡ªyou remember the pain of that loss. How many loops did you spend trying to paint one of your old works? How many did you spend trying to capture that magic you lost?


    How many before you let yourself understand you would never have that magic again? That you would forever have a hole within yourself?


    Ah, but you filled that hole with other things, didn''t you? You let yourself enjoy the viscera of combat. You took the mantle of the Sword, and blood became your paint. It was never a replacement, but it was enough.


    Or do you not remember that?


    It seems you don''t. Alas, you are lesser than you were, even now. A pity.


    But you don''t think of it that way, do you? You like who you are now.


    Interesting.


    Do you believe that human capable of filling that emptiness? Do you believe that he has?


    You seem inspired by him. Is it his ability with Firmament, or his stubborn defiance of the fate that befalls all other Trialgoers? Perhaps you simply admire the fact that he''s done what you could not: saved the lives of those that were otherwise victim to the Trials, defied the Integrators, and struck an undeniable blow against them.


    Or perhaps this is your status as his familiar. Perhaps the Interface has forced upon you a sense of subservience. Perhaps it has replaced your bloodlust with fondness and loyalty.


    How much of your thoughts are truly your own?


    He respects you, you tell yourself. He believes in your autonomy and has promised to return it to you, even if it comes at a cost to his power. He sees a future with you as a friend and an equal.


    But you know more than anyone that these things change. Apply the right pressures, push the right buttons, and even the most righteous can be driven to break. Ask yourself this: What does that human believe in? Does he have a truth, or is he defiant for the sake of defiance?


    Do you believe Ethan is special?


    Others like him have come and gone before. Three hundred others have taken on the Trial of Time, and three hundred others have failed. You may look up to him for his ability to overcome all that has befallen him, and he has certainly been through more than most.


    But he is not the first. He will not be the last.


    Do you think he''ll stand up for you when he finds out who you''ve been? Just because he''s said he will? Do you believe that the two of you are friends? You have shared laughs, certainly, but how many of his pains as he shared with you? His doubts, his fears? What weighs him down?


    Do you truly know him?


    You have a Remnant hidden within the Empty City. If you have so much faith in him, find that Remnant.


    Let''s see if your faith is stronger than your cruelty.


    <hr>


    Ahkelios curled in on himself slightly. Just slightly. He didn''t want Ethan to notice, and so he held the link between them shut as tight as he could. There were so many thoughts racing through his head, and none of them felt like him. He didn''t understand where they were coming from or how to deal with them. And he didn''t want Ethan to know.


    The voice was right, in a way. He''d provided Ethan with unconditional support for most of their journey together, and he had no idea how much of that was the influence of the Interface on him and how much of it was voluntary. They were friends, he was pretty sure¡ªthey bickered like friends, spoke to one another like friends, shared thoughts and ideas and even shared the things that hurt them¡ªand yet...


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    There was that nagging doubt. The what if.


    He admired Ethan. He was sure of that much. Ethan had accomplished so much more than he remembered doing himself, done it in a much shorter time and with far less loops¡ªhow many loops were they on, even? Fifteen? Sixteen?


    And then there was... he didn''t know how to identify the feeling. Jealousy, maybe. A wish that he''d been able to get this far this quickly. If he''d been this effective, if he''d just been better, maybe his home would be fine.


    He didn''t even know what had happened to his home. He didn''t know how long it had been. With what he and Ethan had learned about the Integrators, it was very likely it hadn''t been destroyed, but how much had it changed in the time since his Trial?


    "Ahkelios?" Ethan asked. Ahkelios stiffened slightly, then gave his human friend a weak smile.


    "I''m fine," he lied. "Just thinking. A lot on my mind."


    Ethan didn''t seem to believe him, but he let it go. Ahkelios hid his sigh of relief¡ªeasy to do when he didn''t need to breathe¡ªand turned his attention inward again, ignoring the slowly-growing light they were approaching. He needed to figure this out. If this was something that could hurt him, if it was something that could hurt Ethan, he needed to know.


    You have a Remnant hidden within the Empty City.


    Something about those words made fear coil around Ahkelios''s heart. He didn''t like the idea of that. He''d spoken with Ethan and he''d agreed to absorb more of his Remnants, but he didn''t think it would happen so soon, and he didn''t think he was ready. Not yet.


    Let''s see if your faith is stronger than your cruelty.


    Was it?


    He didn''t know how cruel he''d been. The words bothered him. As much as he''d regained of himself, the few glimpses he''d caught of who he was after all the loops... it scared him. He''d become someone entirely different. He had memories of enjoying the rush of power as Firmament flowed through him, as the Interface granted him skills that could slice through the fabric of space itself. He had memories of tearing through his enemies, gathering credits, interested in little else besides becoming more.


    More powerful. Better. There were glimpses in his memories of the visceral joy of wielding his mantle of the Sword against the world, of the euphoric surge that came with a Truth so strong that nothing could break it. It was the nature of the Trials that the challenge eventually became so great that he succumbed, and he knew, intellectually, that he eventually had.


    But he didn''t have those memories. The ones the voice reminded him of weren''t those memories, either. All he could think about, circling in his head, were the memories of what it had felt like to wield power far beyond what he had now.


    It scared him, in a way. And in a way that pained him to admit... it excited him.


    Ahkelios closed his eyes.


    What if that version of him had been right?


    What if the power he had gained was worth the slaughter? What if that other version of himself was better, happier, freer? His memories were still incomplete: for all he knew, Ethan''s strength now was less than he was at his peak.


    Do you truly know him?


    He did, Ahkelios told himself. Ethan had never been anything less than honest, and more than that, he could feel the human''s sincerity through their bond every time he spoke. He truly wanted Ahkelios to be free.


    But that didn''t mean he could do it, did it? His Remnant¡ªhis former Trialgoer self¡ªit was strong. He could almost feel the pulse of its power, stronger than anything they''d faced, resonating through the city.


    Could it reclaim his life for him before Ethan could?


    He almost hated himself for speaking up.


    "Hey, Ethan," he said. He tried to keep his voice steady. "I think... I think there''s a Remnant of me somewhere in the Empty City. You think we could find it sometime?"


    He didn''t plan to betray Ethan, he told himself. He just... he just wanted to know.


    Ethan just glanced at him and blinked. "Of course," he said easily. Ahkelios could feel Ethan reaching for their bond and the subsequent flicker of power as he searched for wherever that Fragment was. "Huh. I should''ve noticed that sooner. You want to head for it now?"


    "Not¡ªnot now." Ahkelios fidgeted. "But when we have the time. Between Ritual stages or something."


    "I''m sure we''ll run close to it eventually. We''ll check it out then." Ethan reached down to give him a pat on the head, and Ahkelios closed his eyes, quietly enjoying the contact.


    He was happy like this, he told himself.


    He was.


    <hr>


    I watch Ahkelios for a moment as he turns away from me, curling in on himself once again. He thinks he''s being subtle, I think¡ªbut the way he''s closed off the link between us tells me in pretty clear terms that something''s wrong. I don''t bother asking him what it is, not because I don''t want to know, but because I already do.


    Color is one of the traits of Firmament. The closer we get to the massive blue flower blooming out of the base of this building, the more I can feel it affecting me. There''s a sheer scale to it that makes it almost impossible for me to touch with Hueshift¡ªI''ve tried, and the best I can do is reduce the impact it has on me.


    The density of my Firmament helps. Being a third-layer practitioner seems to have shored up my core enough that this isn''t enough to cripple me.


    But I can feel its influence, still. Blue is sadness, but it''s also an infectious sort of doubt. I don''t need to look through my bond with Ahkelios to understand what kind of doubts it''s likely causing to fester within him¡ªI''m fortunate that Guard seems mostly immune to the effect, although whether that''s a result of his prismatic Firmament or just his general strength, I''m not sure.


    I pat Ahkelios on the head. "I''m sure we''ll run close to it eventually. We''ll check it out then," I say.


    I think I have some idea of what''s going on. If it''s true, well...


    If it''s true, it doesn''t matter. Ahkelios is my friend, and so he''s under my protection.


    Even if I''m protecting him from himself.

 153 — Book 3, Chapter 12 — Collection

    One thing I hadn''t really considered on the way down is that the flower''s blooming outside the building¡ªthe inside isn''t exactly filled with pretty blue petals or anything remotely flower-adjacent. Instead, what we come across is a pulsing root structure that''s filled with what looks like electrical signals running across the tendrils¡ªelectrical signals that flash a bright blue as they travel, leaking color-shifted Firmament.


    It''s clear even before we get there what we''re supposed to do. There''s something that looks like a glass orb attached to the base of the flower, with a number of vines and roots coiled protectively around it; within the orb is a source of intense Firmament, strong enough that I can feel it even without stretching my senses from where we are, several floors above it.


    "Be careful," Guard says, though the remark isn''t needed. Ahkelios and I are both at full alert. I''ve asked Ahkelios if he wanted to demanifest, save himself from the influence of this aura, but he shook his head insistently and said he could help. I can''t say I blame him¡ªI would''ve done the same.


    Though I doubt bringing him into my soul would be enough to protect him, anyway. Something about the Remnant of him here... it''s strong. The glimpse of it I caught when I reached out with my senses was enough to tell me that it''s not something I''m going to defeat easily, even as I am now. Maybe even with the Knight''s help.x


    Ahkelios has a powerful link with me, but this Remnant is trying to forge a new one with him. Reaching out through Firmament and Color, touching on the fragment of his soul that''s sheltered within my own. I bring to bear all the power I can spare to protect it, coiling Firmament protectively around our link, but that''s all I can do¡ªprotect what we have. There''s nothing within my repertoire I can use to prevent a new link from forming.


    I''m not worried about it, in truth. I know I should be. The idea that anyone is messing with Ahkelios¡ªeven if it''s a Remnant of him¡ªsends a cold tendril of anger through my gut.


    But I''ve changed. I''m a third-layer practitioner, and there''s a confidence I have now that I didn''t have before. My second phase shift, when I determined who I wanted to be, who I would be...


    I will be strong enough to define a future on my own terms. Fear will not define my choices. I will choose kindness and mercy and compassion, weather the risk, and I will win regardless.


    I made my choice. And I am not afraid.


    "It is moving," Guard observes. I glance down at the mess of tendrils below us. He''s right¡ªthe closer we get, the more they begin to move, actively shifting and crossing over themselves as if agitated by our presence. Ahkelios makes a concerned, clicking noise in his throat, eyes flashing.


    "Aren''t you the plant expert?" I say, my voice deliberately light. "How do we fight it?"


    Ahkelios turns to me, blinking. "Fire?" he says, as if the answer is obvious.


    I mean, to be fair, it is. I grin at him, teasing. "You sure you don''t want to study it first?"


    He shudders, and I see a flicker of interest in his eyes, leaking through our bond. He''s kept it held tight for the most part, but some things still leak through. "Kind of," he admits, fidgeting.


    "It''s moving," I prompt. "And clearly Firmament is part of its life cycle in some way. Maybe even the color of Firmament."


    Ahkelios makes a humming noise, then hops forward, jumping from my shoulder to Guard''s. I can feel him reaching for my skills as he examines the flower¡ªa touch of Firmament Control, a little Hueshift, and a flare of Firmament Sight.


    "It''s absorbing Firmament from something," he mutters. I''m quietly glad when I hear the way interest sparks to life in his voice. "And it''s absorbing color from something. I think it''s adapted to exist in the Empty City?"


    "Because of Color Drain?"


    "Yeah." Ahkelios sounds eager, now, and Guard has to stop him from jumping ahead by himself. We make our way down the stairwell a little more quickly, mostly to contain the excited mantis. "I think it''s incorporated the Firmament into itself, somehow."


    We''re almost there. The tendrils around the glass orb at the center of the flower are all waving frantically in defense¡ªnot that Ahkelios seems to care. He hops closer, dodges one tendril, then kicks another out of the way, a spark of Firmament causing it to snap back and crash into the nearby wall.


    I raise an eyebrow at the sight. Apparently, my growth in power means that Ahkelios is stronger as well. Go figure. This is still a rank S dungeon, though. I''m under no illusions as to whether the rest of the dungeon is going to be easy.


    Honestly, I''m under no illusions as to whether this fight is going to be easy. But I''m happy to let Ahkelios investigate¡ªhe''s the expert.


    "Firmament isn''t enough to feed it nutritionally, though," Ahkelios says contemplatively. He leaps along a vine and follows one of those electric-blue signals, deftly balancing even when it bucks and writhes beneath him in reaction. "It''s learned to use Color Drain Firmament. Like it''s a skill. And since it can''t get nutrition, that means¡ª"


    He''s interrupted by a rumble. The walls shake around us¡ªI glance up, wincing as the fragile concrete breaks away and comes down in chunks. It doesn''t look like the entire building is coming down just yet, but it''s a near thing.


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    "That means the color is a lure," Ahkelios finishes. "I bet it''s a carnivorous plant."


    That makes a lot of sense. The building shakes again, and I glance at Ahkelios, who meets my gaze. "Which means it brought something here," I say.


    He grins at me. "Yep. Probably to eat, but I wouldn''t discount it having some kind of symbiotic relationship with another species in the dungeon. It might have a protector species."


    I raise an eyebrow. "This is a dungeon thing, isn''t it?"


    "Isn''t it exciting?" Ahkelios''s eyes gleam. I laugh. I was worried he''d spend the entire time lost to whatever''s affected him, but he''s still in there. Affected by doubt, but definitely in there.


    Guard, meanwhile, shakes his head. "Trialgoers," he mutters. I sense, despite his words, that there is a tiny undercurrent of affection in it. It''s different from what he''s used to. We''re different from what he''s used to.


    A third rumble. A section of the wallshatters, and something breaks through, its silhouette framed by dust and shattered stone. I''m distracted, briefly, by an Interface window that shows up.


    [Ritual Stage 1: Collect the Seed]


    Prerequisites:


    Defeat the Seedmother: 0/1


    Keep the Seed safe: 1/1


    The Seed is that which grows into a memory. Keep it safe and help it grow, and all the rewards of the Empty City shall be yours.


    <hr>


    The notification is fascinating, but it''s not what''s immediately concerning to me at the moment. That honor goes to the massive beetle that''s stuck its head through the wall, which, while far from the most horrifying thing I''ve seen, is definitely among the biggest things I''ve seen that I''ve had to fight.


    Short of the asteroid that was about to strike Isthanok, but that doesn''t count.


    It looms above us, and I can feel the sheer amount of Firmament pouring through it. Like the flower, it seems to have adapted to the Color Drain here in some way¡ªits carapace is a vibrant, prismatic hue that almost reminds me of He-Who-Guards''s power core. Flickers of electric-blue and other colors race through its shell in a network that reminds me of a cross between a circuitboard and a spiderweb.


    This thing is packed with power.


    Its eyes focus on Guard. It roars. The sound rattles the building we''re in, causing more of the ceiling to collapse; behind us, the stairwell begins to crumble, blocking off one of our escape routes¡ªnot that I was planning to go back up.


    "Guard," I say. "We need more space. We can''t fight it in here."


    "Agreed." His voice is tense. He crouches slightly, and I sense the change in his Firmament as he funnels his power to his legs. A moment later, his thrusters activate, and he bursts forward in a flicker of motion.


    I follow suit with an Accelerate and a Firestep, leaving a trail of flames behind me. I can feel the Knight stirring, eager to join in the fight¡ªeager to protect¡ªbut I ask it to hold back for now. I need to see how well I can fight without it.


    I''m slower than I normally am. Guard reaches the Seedmother first, a crack resounding as he slams shoulder-first into its face and with enough physical force to make it take a step back; I''m there a second later, Amplification Gauntlet around my fist. The full force of my Firmament behind my blow is enough to make it take another step back, to create a shockwave that rattles the building even more¡ª


    Shit. Protect the Seed.


    I''m well aware of what Ahkelios said. I can''t fail this stage by dying, but I can fail it by not completing the prerequisites, which means I can''t grab the Seed before defeating the Seedmother and I can''t let the Seed get destroyed. The problem with that, of course, is that the Seed looks like it''s made out of glass, and it''s very, very clear that this building is about to collapse on top of it.


    "Ahkelios!" I call. I open the link on my end, letting him surveil my thoughts¡ªhe catches on quickly and darts from my shoulder toward the Seed.


    "I got it!" he calls back. A thin film of Firmament extends from him as he grabs on to the orb; it''s nearly as big as he is, but he manages to stabilize it with his Firmament, and he begins flying determinedly toward the hole the beetle created in the wall.


    Right as it begins to glow. The moving, multicolored pattern on its shell begins to accelerate, shifting, and there''s a sudden snap of recognition as I understand what it''s doing.


    That''s a skill construct. It''s using a skill.


    "Ahkelios!" The panic in my voice must reach him, because he changes directions almost instantaneously, pulling on Accelerate to do so. At almost the exact same moment, something manifests in front of the Seedmother, three inches in front of its horns, five away from Guard¡ª


    That''s a black hole.


    I barely have time to react. Guard tries to dodge, and I can feel the way he draws on his Firmament, reinforcing his armor as much as he can, but that''s a black hole. It might be small, but it''s infinite, inescapable density, and it punches through his metal like it''s little more than paper.


    It swerves. It moves almost as quickly as Ahkelios does, and I''m forced to Warpstep away, nearly staggering at the amount of Firmament that simple move costs me. Spatial distortions still amplify the cost of that skill, and a black hole is about as much spatial distortion as you can get. Trying to warp through the thing is going to drain everything I have, which means I''m left to a game of keep-away.


    Ahkelios has to protect the Seed. Guard is hurt¡ªthe hole blasted through his shoulder leaves one of his arms dangling uselessly from his shoulder, and I don''t know if it hit anything more vital, because his Firmament is flickering dangerously. For our first battle, this couldn''t have gone worse.


    I mentally flick through my options. Distorted Crux for more speed will buy me some time. I still have the Knight to call upon. Some of my newer skills I haven''t tested yet, but Fate-Shattering Blow might be able to do some damage to it¡ª


    The patterns on the Seedmother''s back move again. I feel Firmament collecting into a mass as it charges, forming a different construct, a different skill.


    It feels familiar. Like the golden spear Anhar used against me. Except this one is more, layered upon itself again and again, and the spear it creates is not one but dozens, filling the sky with a frozen, golden rainstorm. A third of them are directed at me. Another third are aimed at Guard.


    The last third...


    It''s subtle, but they''re not aimed at Ahkelios at all.


    They''re aimed at the seed.

 154 — Book 3, Chapter 13 — Warning

    Before I can do anything else, a warning blares into my skull, making me wince from the sheer force of it. I have to blink away the spots in my eyes to even begin to parse what just happened, but when I do, my eyes widen.


    [Let it kill you.]


    It''s a Paradox Warning. The skill construct resonates within my core, and I stare up at the volley of golden spears. I don''t like the idea of letting it kill me. I don''t like the idea of not pushing this fight to its limits and getting everything I can from it. Almost unbidden, I can feel something rising within me, responding to my desire to keep fighting.


    The Knight. It struggles to free itself, and already I can feel its influence leaking into my Firmament; my skin hardens, gaining the glint of solid metal in odd, mishappen spots. I grit my teeth, forcibly pushing it back¡ªI can''t afford this right now. Not if I need to let myself die. I don''t know how I know, but I feel certain that if I allowed it to take over, I won''t die. At least not easily.


    And if I let that Seed get destroyed... that''s a failure that has a chance of blowing back into other Trials. As much as I''m interested in seeing that process, I don''t think I''m ready for it. I need to have something that allows me to¡ª


    Oh.


    I suddenly understand, and the moment I do, I trigger the skill.


    Paradox Warning. I feel the skill activate, then feel the way it coils around me, asking me to complete the loop, to send back the warning that gave me this train of thought in the first place.


    So I do. Sending the message just a second or two into the past doesn''t cost me as much Firmament as it might have otherwise, but the cost is still staggering; I feel nearly a quarter of my Firmament supply empty out of me in a way that I almost never feel these days, leaving me to stagger and grit my teeth.


    No time to let this slow me down. The Seedmother''s skill is seconds away from firing, and if I don''t make sure I''m hit first, both Guard and Ahkelios are going to suffer more than I will.


    "Guard!" I call out. "You know where to meet me?"


    "I will find you," he calls back gravely, apparently sensing what I''m planning. Good enough for me. Ahkelios calls out in alarm, clearly also sensing what I''m planning and disapproving of it, but before he can try to convince me otherwise, I Accelerate up to meet the spears.


    I have to admit: as many times as I''ve died in the loops, I don''t think I''ll ever quite get used to the feeling of being stabbed multiple times over.


    [You have died. +57 Strength credits. +15 Durability credits. +32 Reflex credits. +50 Speed credits.]


    ¡ª


    When I wake up, I''m lying in the dirt, staring up at the sky. Ahkelios stands on my chest, his arms folded across his chest.


    "You let yourself die again!" he complains.


    "I did," I agree. I reach up to pat him on the head, and he flails for a moment as he tries to push my finger off before he reluctantly accepts it, huffing. "I know you''re worried about me getting used to it, but... I''m in a time loop, Ahkelios. I need to take advantage of it while I can, especially if it gives me an advantage."


    "How does this give you an advantage?" he grumbles.


    "We''ve got some time before Guard manages to find us." I push myself up to my feet, prompting Ahkelios to hop off and then reclaim his spot on my shoulder. "Why don''t we find out?"


    "What are you talking about¡ª" he begins, but I don''t quite give him the time to finish the question.


    The Road Not Taken.


    It''s the realization I had. I might have been able to fight off the Seedmother and protect the Seed, especially with the help of the Knight¡ªbut that''s not what I need right now. What I need is information, specifically on the consequences should I fail a Ritual stage, and that Seedmother set up the perfect opportunity for it.


    I''m changing a decision that''s a fairly limited amount of time in my past, but even then, it''s a costly use of Firmament. I feel about half of my reserves drain out of me, leaving me with barely a quarter left, and I groan against the strain; I feel Ahkelios''s worry flicker down the bond as he reaches out to support me with his own Firmament. It''s an automatic act, but it still makes me grin.


    And then the power of the skill envelops us both, and we find ourselves back in the battlefield.


    Mentally, anyway. The Road Not Taken is ultimately an observational skill¡ªI can''t just rewind to a point and redo things the way I want to, I have to pick a singular decision to change¡ªbut the decision I''m changing here is a simple one.


    I choose to fight.


    Now that I''m actually using the skill, I''m realizing that I need to grow a lot more to be able to use it for everything I want to use it for¡ªgoing back long enough to interrogate Whisper, for example, is going to take exponentially more Firmament than I have available to me right now. That''s a problem for future Ethan, though, and preferably one that''s been through a few more phase shifts.


    Right now...


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    Let''s see.


    I let the Knight take me over. Metal plating emerges from my skin, and I hear a guttural snarl emerge from my throat as vocal cords change into something other, a combination of metal and Firmament and conduit-flesh. The transformation is painful, but not nearly as harrowing as it was the first time. Unlike my first attempt at using this Inspiration, the Knight and I are... somewhat coordinated.


    Not perfectly coordinated, as it turns out. Not yet. We try to dodge the spears and to keep the Seed safe, but we don''t quite agree on the same direction to move, and the result is our combined body flailing awkwardly through the air and toward Ahkelios; we still manage to protect the Seed, but only because several spears glance off our armor.


    A few manage to pierce into us partway before we bat it away in retaliation, and we snarl in response. Pain is unpleasant.


    The Seedmother is an enemy.


    Before Ahkelios or Guard can stop us, we bound off the building and toward the Seedmother with enough force that we shatter the windows and create a small crater in the side of the building; that momentum transforms into a punch that''s empowered with Amplified Gauntlet, the appearance of the skill changing entirely as it moves through the Inspiration''s construct.


    It''s my first time using a skill with the Knight like this, and the difference is incredible. It''s draining, certainly, but instead of covering my arm with a gauntlet of Firmament, it transforms my arm¡ªchanges it into a thick, powerful thing, bulging with dense, compressed Firmament. The moment our fist makes contact with the Seedmother, all that energy bursts out of us and into its carapace, causing a deafening crack and a shockwave that sends us flying back.


    It''s not too much of a concern. We flip midair, readjusting ourselves so we land feet-first on the horizontal surface of a nearby building; the claws in our sabaton grip into the concrete, and we send in roots of metal and Firmament to stabilize ourselves and watch the result.


    The Seedmother roars. It''s in pain. Its carapace is absolutely shattered at the point of impact, revealing pink-white flesh that pulses in an almost grotesque fashion. The circuitry on its carapace almost immediately reorganizes itself, rerouting around the wound and forming into a new pattern, a new skill construct.


    This one is new. It looks almost like a tree, branching outward along the shell. A pulse of Firmament goes into the newly-formed construct, then a green forms at the tip of its horn¡ª


    We don''t have time to react to this one.


    The orb flickers, and when the skill is cast, it turns into forks of lightning that blast through the air. It passes through my armor and barely affects me; Guard jerks in place from the impact, as it apparently severely affects his systems; Ahkelios tries to dodge, but the near-instantaneous nature of the attack...


    The lightning passes through the Seed and shatters it.


    Almost immediately, the Ritual blowback begins.


    I try to push back the Knight so I can better examine what''s happening, but it roars in defiance; it is hurt and angry and right, and it wants to kill this thing that hurt its friends. I''m briefly surprised by the intensity of that emotion¡ªit hasn''t known the three of us for that long¡ªbut it has evidently decided that we are friends, and that it wants to protect us.


    That''s flattering, but it''s a problem right now. My Firmament sense isn''t as strong when the Knight is integrated with my being, and so my sense of what the Ritual blowback is doing is dampened. I can''t spare any attention to push the Knight back, either; the more I do that, the more I miss what the Ritual is doing.


    So I let it have control. Better to focus what attention I can on the Ritual''s failure.


    Almost immediately, the Knight takes action. I feel a surge of power rush to my limbs, feel my claws sharpen and my shell harden¡ªbut my mind is elsewhere. I''m focusing on the Ritual, on the blowback.


    It all starts with the Seed.


    The Seed is tied almost haphazardly with the Interface, like the Integrators couldn''t quite make the Interface to do what they wanted and had to brute-force it into doing what it wanted; limited though my senses are, I can feel how tiny threads of phased Firmament thread through the Seed and into the Interface, reaching a core of something that''s beyond my ability to sense. The destruction of the Seed causes a ripple that echoes into the Interface...


    That makes sense, actually. If the Intermediaries serve as a primary means of connecting different planets, then the Interface must serve as a secondary one; it is a single construct that ties together all Integrated planets.


    What, then, do the dungeons have to do with it?


    I have to push my senses farther. The Knight resists, but I manage to wrest enough control to activate both Firmament Sight and Phaseslip; it pushes everything just a little bit farther into clarity, and allows me to see...


    What is that?


    I can''t be sure what I''m looking at, but it feels almost like the dungeon is part of the Interface¡ªlike the threads that lead into the core of the Interface also attach to the edges of this dungeon, right at the corners of what I can sense. The entirety of the Empty City is twisted into itself, creating a self-sustaining bubble of space that''s stored in the Interface.


    Is that what this is? Does the Interface somehow take these dungeons and... contain them within itself?


    Before I can think on it any further, a second attack slams through me; this time, it''s one of the Seedmother''s legs. The Knight snarls in retaliation, resisting as much as it can. Our armor survives for a moment as the street cracks around us.


    Another moment.


    Two more.


    Impossible pressure rises around us, and we resist with everything we can¡ªbut eventually, the street beneath us cracks, and we plummet into darkness¡ª


    The skill ends. I come back to awareness, my chest heaving; even Ahkelios looks a little bit shaken. He climbs off my shoulder, looking a little bit dazed, and neither of us say anything for a long moment.


    "First of all," he manages to say, his voice not entirely steady, "that''s cheating."


    "Was it?" Even in my current state, I manage a cheeky grin at the mantis. "I''m pretty sure I''m just using what''s available to me."


    "It''s cheating," he insists stubbornly, though he can''t quite resist the grin that steals across his face. "...You think you can use what we found?"


    "I''m sure I can." It''s going to take me a while¡ªI''m not dumb enough to think I can mess around with the Interface without severe consequences just yet. But once I''ve got Gheraa back... well, who knows?


    I hear Guard''s thrusters in the distance. He wasn''t kidding about being able to find me.


    "Wanna take bets on how many tries it''ll take us to beat the Seedmother?" I ask, injecting a bit of levity into my tone. Ahkelios looks up at me.


    "Five," he says.


    "Three," I say easily. And only because I want to study those skill constructs on its back.


    Guard lands a moment later. "Four," he says, having apparently heard the conversation. "I will adjust my strategy, but it is not an easy battle."


    "We will adjust our strategy," I say, smirking. "But fine. Let''s see who''s right."

 155 — Book 3, Chapter 14 — The Benefit of Looping

    Before we go in for the second try, I decide it''s time to bank some points. We''re over the threshold for Durability, and I''d rather not lose to something like spears through my body again. Crystallized Barrier and Verdant Armor alone are powerful defensive skills, but as far as I could determine, they weren''t quite enough when facing the Seedmother. The sheer amount of power in its attacks...


    No. I need a third skill, I think. Something I can use against the Seedmother to survive the incredible variety of destructive skills it seems to possess. Besides, better to bank the credits now so that any new credits I earn in these fights go toward the next skill, and not just a chance for a better one in this roll.


    [Are you sure you wish to bank 1,014 Durability credits?]


    [1,014 Durability credits banked! Rolling for results...]


    [Select between:


    Diamond Carapace (Rank S Physical Upgrade)


    Impermeability (Rank S Physical Upgrade)


    Adamant Bones (Rank S Physical Upgrade)


    Phase Metabolism (Rank S Physical Upgrade)]


    [A note to my Heir: You''re on the right track. These will help.]


    I stare at the Interface options for a moment, then glance at Ahkelios, who seems even more speechless than I am. The confirmation that I''m doing the right thing is nice, though I''m a little nonplussed by Kauku''s apparent ability to watch me and interfere with the Interface to this degree.


    On the other hand, the fact that I''ve received physical upgrades instead of skills is more concerning by a fair margin.


    "You know anything about this?" I ask eventually. Ahkelios shakes his head at first, then hesitates, changes his mind, and nods.


    "Kind of," he says, seeming a little uncertain about it. "I''ve seen the Interface offer a physical upgrade as a reward before, but not from banking credits. It''s usually a reward for clearing a dungeon or something. And they''re usually... optional."


    I glance at the floating screen in front of me. "Doesn''t seem that optional, this one," I say dryly.


    "No," Ahkelios agrees with a solemn little frown. He hops closer, reaching out as if to touch the Interface window before withdrawing, as though remembering it''s not his. "Does Inspect work on them?"


    "It does." In fact, Inspect gives me a pretty clear image of how each of the options will change me. Diamond Carapace will quite literally give me an insectoid shell, and I dismiss that out of hand immediately¡ªmy link with the Knight already covers that angle, and I''m not all that interested in a permanent, visible change.


    I''m not prepared for the Interface to change me quite that much, and if I have to accept some changes, I''d like for them to be minimal.


    The others are a little more acceptable in that they won''t change how I look. Impermeability is exactly what it says on the tin¡ªit''s an immunity of sorts to stabbing and penetrating attacks. That would technically save me from getting killed via beetle-leg-to-the-face again, except it doesn''t really change anything about the inside of my body, and all that would happen is that I''d have my bones and organs crushed inside my perfectly intact skin.


    I shudder a little at the idea. No, I don''t think I''ll be picking that one, either.


    Adamant Bones and Phase Metabolism are the most interesting of the lot. Mostly because, like Impermeability, Adamant Bones promises to make my bones virtually indestructible¡ªwhich seems more useful than just making my skin indestructible, depending on how the force of a blow moves through my skeleton. And Phase Metabolism...


    I wince. It would be an easy pick if not for the physical change that accompanied it, and even that I would''ve been willing to accept if that change weren''t so much of a glaring weakness.


    It''s a... Firmament sac, for lack of a better term. The change would allow me to biologically process Firmament and use it to alter aspects of my body¡ªspeeding up healing or forcing myself to metabolize a poison, for instance. The problem is almost entirely in the fact that it would manifest as an easy-to-target, glowing sac, and taking a hit in it would be debilitating.


    To say the least.


    The prospect of the upgrade is still tempting, if only because of how much I might be able to learn about Firmament, but if this is an option at all then I''m going to guess that there are similar creatures in the Empty City or elsewhere. Knowing that it''s physically possible is enough of a start for me to look into it. Even the Seedmother processes Firmament, technically, although I imagine it''s not going to be easy to figure out how until we defeat it.


    I sigh and make my choice.


    [Adamant Bones obtained!]


    The wave of pain is more or less expected, and I''m already gritting my teeth by the time it starts. It feels like a vibration in my bones¡ªlike the sound of a powerful bass ripping through my skeleton and making it rattle against my flesh. My vision blurs, and I would have collapsed to my knees if not for Guard reaching out to catch me. He holds me gently, like he''s afraid I''ll break.


    I''m not that weak. I don''t get the chance to say it, though, because anything I try to say comes out like I''m speaking into a spinning fan; the sound emerges warped and distorted, and I give up after a moment.


    This is fine. It''s comfortable enough.


    The intense shaking rattling through my body settles after a moment. I have to blink away the doubled vision, and there''s an ache in my muscles that tells me this change did some real, physical damage to my body. More than that, I feel like I''m a little larger than before, a little taller...


    "The Interface does not respect its Trialgoers." There''s something in Guard''s voice that''s more than disapproving. He sounds almost... upset.


    "It never has," I reply with a shrug. I try for a stretch, wincing as I feel every muscle scream in protest¡ªbut I''m not immobile. This is minor damage at best, and in a moment or two I should be healed enough to fight again.


    Time for round two.


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    "Come on. Let''s go."


    <hr>


    On the second try, we lose.


    The new Durability-based change helps, but it''s not as much of a game-changer as I hoped. Not for the fight against the Seedmother, at least. It has a lot more skills than any of us expected, even with the information I got from using The Road Not Taken. Besides the black hole, the spear, and the lightning, it has skills that manipulate all the vines and tendrils around us¡ªand there are so many more of those things than I expected.


    Seriously. Those roots seem to be embedded all over the city, digging into every street and structure. I''d spend time ruminating on it if not for the fact that most of my attention has to go toward trying to stay alive.


    On top of that, the Seedmother has a skill that melts concrete. Then it shows us something that freezes air into a solid barrier. A third skill that creates tiny portals into what I think might be a dimension of pure fire; I only realize that because trying to Warpstep through the flames nearly drained all the Firmament I have. I need to be more careful with that.


    Even fighting with everything we have, it''s not that much of a surprise that we lose¡ªespecially since we have to deal with the condition that the Seed needs to remain safe. Ahkelios tries running away from the fight multiple times, but the Seedmother almost seems to prioritize the Seed as a target, then me as a secondary target.


    On some level, it fights like it knows the role it''s playing in the Interface''s game.


    I doubt it actually does. It doesn''t seem particularly intelligent¡ªthe way it fights is more a game of action and reaction, a semi-random selection of skills chosen to deal with specific situations. At some point over the course of the fight, Ahkelios, Guard and I all realize we aren''t going to win this first attempt and focus instead on predicting it: on finding out if we can get the Seedmother to respond in specific ways to situations we put it in.


    If we corner it, there''s a good chance it''ll use the skill that melts concrete and disappear into the ground for a minute or two. If Guard gets right up into its face, the Seedmother will relatively predictably use its black hole skill. If all three of us are about the same distance away, it calls up its lightning skill.


    There''s some variation to it. Sometimes it''ll try to do something new, like using that flamethrower attack instead of the lightning; sometimes, it''ll disregard skills altogether, instead focusing on a series of physical attacks as it tries to ram us into buildings or flail one of its many, many legs at us.


    It''s that last thing that catches me off-guard. Even with Premonition helping me, it shatters my Crystallized Barrier and my Verdant Armor, then strikes me directly in the face.


    Probably one of my more embarrassing deaths, all things considered. Immutable bones don''t quite stop the shockwave from obliterating my brain.


    I did notice something, though, right before my death. Crystallized Barrier manages to survive for a fraction of a second longer than I would''ve expected¡ªalmost as long as Verdant Armor itself does.


    Which means it''s still growing in strength. I knew that to be an element of the skill, but I sort of assumed there would be an upper limit on it; instead, every time the barrier breaks, it gets stronger the next time I use it. There''s no apparent increase in Firmament cost or anything, either.


    I really need to be using that skill a lot more. I''m sure I''ll hit an upper limit eventually, but this thing is valuable beyond its rank.


    Unfortunately, that information doesn''t help me this loop.


    [You have died. +27 Strength credits. +87 Durability credits. +102 Reflex credits. +33 Speed credits.]


    <hr>


    He-Who-Guards felt his systems heat up in a mixture of anger and frustration, though more directed at himself than at either of his companions.


    He had known when choosing to fight with Ethan that the Trial would not be a simple one, but he hadn''t expected to be fought to a standstill this quickly. He''d been one of the strongest combatants Isthanok had to offer for pretty much his entire life. Whisper''s conversion of him from silverwisp into this abomination of metal didn''t change that¡ªif anything, as far as fighting was concerned, it was an improvement.


    The amount of Firmament he commanded was formidable, and the technology that had gone into constructing his frame was quite literally among the best Whisper could procure. Half the materials hadn''t even been acquired from Hestia.


    And yet he was losing. They were losing. This was their third time fighting the Seedmother, and even now, he didn''t have a better sense of how they would beat the thing. Sure, they were learning its patterns, and the artificial intelligence embedded within him was getting better at predicting what it would do, but that didn''t help. Not when he couldn''t adequately protect the Seed or do enough damage to the Seedmother to stop it.


    Engage shields, the AI whispered. Vines incoming. 5 o''clock.


    Pure Firmament rippled out from his arms into a perfect, shining barrier; he pivoted on the spot, slamming the shield directly into the encroaching vines. It pushed them to the side slightly, but it took only a momentary beating before the shield was shattered. The Seedmother was leveraging enough force that he couldn''t stop it.


    He-Who-Guards had never been this far on the back foot before. His optic flashed in angry desperation¡ªhe didn''t like this. Didn''t like being only marginally able to help, didn''t like being little more than a distraction.


    He was here to help, wasn''t he?


    Ethan reminded him so much of She-Who-Whispers. More precisely, he reminded him of who she''d been. Before she fell to the manipulations of the Integrators. Before she''d been forced to make difficult decision after difficult decision, stripping away any pretense of morality she once held and turning her into a ruthless dictator that would do anything to realize her vision of perfection.


    This human had the same conviction she once had, the same powerful drive to do what he considered to be right, no matter the consequences. He had the same look in his eyes when he saw an injustice and declared it to be wrong.


    It made Guard ache. He missed who Whisper had been.


    It made him worry. He wouldn''t be able to take it if Ethan went down the same path she did.


    And it made him glad, because unlike Whisper, he didn''t think Ethan would.


    There was a fire in that human¡ªa fire Whisper never had. It was his drive to not only make sure things were right, but to do them the right way. It was his refusal to bend to pressures that would have made anyone else break.


    That fire ignited something in Guard he''d thought was long gone. He''d failed Whisper. He didn''t want to¡ªcouldn''t¡ªfail Ethan. He never thought he''d be drawn to someone in the same way again, that he''d believe in someone the same way again, and then the damn human had pulled off three impossible things at once in a feat that still left Guard in awe.


    Ethan forced Whisper to give up what he was doing, even if it was temporary. He''d deflected an entire asteroid, one that the Integrators had set up to destroy their home.


    And he''d cured him. Not even Whisper had been able to do that. He-Who-Guards wondered sometimes if Ethan understood exactly what he''d managed to pull off, or if he''d just filed it under the dozen other impossible things he''d done like it was no big deal.


    Guard owed him more than words could express, and yet, at the very first enemy they fought together¡ªand even before that, with the Interface forcing a change on Ethan that he hadn''t been able to do a thing about...


    Is there nothing else we can do? He felt useless, and this was only the first obstacle. Unlike Ethan, he couldn''t grow with the Interface; if he hit his limits now, then this was all he would ever be able to provide in support. Yet he''d tried almost everything in his repertoire, scanned and analyzed everything he could...


    ...except...


    No. There was one thing he hadn''t scanned yet, wasn''t there?


    Those patterns on the Seedmother''s back. The ones it used to fire skills.


    They looked like circuitry.


    In the back of his mind, Guard began to wonder. In the back of his mind, a certain artificial intelligence began recording every permutation of that circuitry, linking each set of patterns with their observed results.


    Circuitry was something he could copy.


    Maybe he wasn''t stuck with his limits.


    If Ethan had taught him anything, it was that the impossible was just another thing to punch through.

 156 — Book 3, Chapter 15 — Patterns of Observation

    There''s something that begins to bother me as we fight the Seedmother. It''s not our lack of progress¡ªthough we''re learning enough about its patterns that I''m beginning to suspect that its tenacity is going to be a problem. It''s something about the skills, about the way that circuitry rearranges itself on its shell.


    It''s not that there''s anything wrong with them, it''s just...


    It feels like there''s a pattern to them. A pattern I don''t entirely understand yet. It''s like an itch in my brain, and I find myself spending more and more time just staring at the Seedmother''s carapace. I shouldn''t, given we''re in the middle of a battle, but I can''t help trying to figure out exactly what''s bothering me.


    Part of me wonders if it''s the structure of the skills¡ªif a part of my brain is trying to figure out a way to copy them from the Seedmother¡ªbut I''m pretty sure that isn''t it. I''ve already tried, and the complexity of these circuits isn''t something I can mimic through Firmament Control alone. More than that, the skills in my core are fundamentally different; they''re three-dimensional constructs, not two, and the way they take in and convert Firmament isn''t compatible with whatever the Seedmother is doing.


    It''s not the structure, then. It''s not the color of the Firmament it''s using, either; there''s no pattern to that I can identify. I''m pretty sure it''s just drawing on whatever Firmament''s immediately available through the network of vines and roots embedded throughout the City. It''s not the amount of Firmament it''s using, not the way it cycles or changes skills, nor anything to do with how each skill manifests.


    I narrow my eyes as the Seedmother charges toward Ahkelios. A new circuit flashes into existence, just for a moment¡ªbright red in color, triangular in shape, and although there''s no apparent effect, the strength with which it swings its legs toward Ahkelios is suddenly amplified tenfold.


    What was that? A Strength skill?


    It''s been using these the whole time, I realize. There''s an entire other category of skills it''s able to use that isn''t quite as flashy as the ones that create Firmament constructs or directly manipulate its environment¡ªit''s why it''s so much stronger and faster than I''d expect a monster of this size to be.


    That''s what I''ve been noticing, then. The inconsistencies in its strength and durability and reflexes. It''s using skills from all categories, not just Firmament skills. That revelation tugs at something in the back of my mind, but it''s hard to focus on that in the middle of the fight; as if on cue, the Seedmother chooses this moment to turn its attention to me, and I''m forced to call up Distorted Crux to dodge the spears it suddenly rains down around me.


    This thing is pissing me off. It''s not just the way it throws skills at us like it''s nothing¡ªthe fact that it''s apparently fuelled by the entire city''s store of Firmament is patently unfair¡ªit''s the way it keeps running away whenever we manage to deal any significant amount of damage to it. That concrete-melting skill that lets it merge into the ground, whatever Durability skills it''s using to heal itself... It makes fighting the Seedmother an endless battle of attrition, and considering it has an entire city as a battery, that''s a battle we''re going to lose.


    We need a new strategy.


    "Guard!" I call. He''s struggling with a half-dozen vines, each trying to tangle him up and get into his systems; when he hears my call, he spins, a quick blast of Firmament tearing them to pieces. He''s by my side in an instant, his core briefly sputtering from the exertion.


    "We will not win like this." He says the words like nothing''s wrong. I eye Guard for a moment.


    "No, we won''t," I agree. The Seedmother is retreating for the moment¡ªAhkelios manages to fly a circle around it, forcing it to stab itself with a few of its own spears before it forcibly dispels the skill. "I have a plan."


    "What do you need me to do?" Guard''s response is immediate.


    "We''re going on the attack," I say. "We''re pacing ourselves too much. I need us to hit it as many times as possible, as hard as possible."


    There''s a flicker of hesitation. "Will that be enough?"


    "Only one way to find out," I say.


    If we hit it hard enough¡ªfast enough¡ªthere''s a chance we can overwhelm its regeneration.


    But I doubt it. That''s not my plan.


    First: force the Seedmother to play defense. I watch with Firmament Sight activated as it desperately cycles skills to dodge Ahkelios''s and Guard''s relentless attacks; Ahkelios has left the Seed behind on a nearby rooftop. I''m keeping an eye on it, but we can''t waste energy protecting it if this strategy is going to work.


    Second: I need a boost. Inspired Evolution: Knight.


    I don''t need the Knight''s full power at the moment, but it''ll be easier to fight with it than without. My Firmament usage is a lot more efficient when I''m merged with the Knight, I realize, even if the Inspiration itself consumes a massive chunk and strains my systems to the point where repeating it is difficult.


    It''s here that I encounter the first significant change as a result of acquiring Adamant Bones. The Knight transformation hurts.


    Much, much more. And it already hurt before.


    I have to grit my teeth and hold back a shout¡ªmy bones are everting themselves, inside to outside, forming the plating of the Knight''s armor. It makes sense that the transformation would be different. The fact that the new bones are virtually indestructible means repurposing them for my armor is the best possible thing to do.


    But fucking ow. This new variation of the transformation better give me some Durability credits. I grit my teeth so hard I''m pretty sure I taste blood in the moments before the transformation completes and I no longer have a mouth to taste with.


    It''s more reflex than anything else that makes me reach out to the Knight. "Was that necessary?"


    "Yes." The Knight replies. The fact that it responds at all surprises me¡ªit''s given me the impression that it doesn''t like talking. "You have a plan."


    "I do." It shares a mind with me, so I don''t have to explain any of it.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "I will help." I feel the Knight''s determination. It surprises me¡ªso far, its attitude has been obstinate at best, and our tentative truce has never been anything more than that: both tentative, and a truth. It wants more, I know that much, but it hasn''t been able to let itself trust me just yet.


    Except now, something seems to have changed. I''m not sure what, or why, or if this has something to do with how I''ve been fighting. It''s like the Knight has decided that I''m worthy. Or that I''ll keep my promise to it, that I won''t abandon it and end our partnership.


    "You know what to do?" I ask. No point questioning this now.


    I get the impression that the Knight smiles savagely in return, though there''s no physical expression it can make. "I must fight."


    Well, it''s not wrong.


    We... split, for lack of a better term. Once more, I allow the Knight to take control of our shared body so it can focus its efforts on fighting and doing as much damage to the Seedmother as it can; in the meantime, I withdraw deeper into my core, working on replenishing our Firmament stock and making sure I have enough for what I have planned.


    The process of actively converting environmental Firmament into a usable form is different from anything I''ve done before. Gheraa''s talked about this being possible¡ªabout the fact that a skill construct can be converted into something that takes in Firmament and refines and purifies it¡ªbut after what happened during my last phase shift, I don''t want to sacrifice my skills like that. They''re worth more than this.


    But he gave me a gift. That vestige of Gheraa turned himself into something I can use for exactly this purpose. So that''s what I do¡ªI reach out with Firmament Control, pulling on the environmental Firmament around me and carefully feeding it into the golden construct within my soul.


    It actually looks and feels a lot like a spinning wheel. Its internal mechanisms are far more complicated than that, of course, but the basic process of using it?


    I compress ambient Firmament into a thread. I feed it slowly into the construct, massaging it so it changes from one form of Firmament into another. Then I allow the newly purified Firmament to diffuse into my soul, empowering me.


    There''s a sense of warmth in me as I do this. The aches and pains from the ongoing fight fade away; even the pain of the recent transformation fades from memory. I don''t let that distract me.


    This is an opportunity.


    The Knight is handling the complexities of the battle¡ªdodging, attacking, and retreating every time the Seedmother tries to counter. Every hit it manages to land cracks the carapace apart and leaves a bleeding crater of shattered shell and flesh behind.


    That creates weak points in its shell. He-Who-Guards takes full advantage of it, blasting the wounds with lances of burning Firmament that sears deep into its body. It roars in pain.


    Ahkelios can''t do quite as much physical damage as the other two, but he doesn''t have to. He''s incredibly mobile. Every time the Seedmother tries to target him, he swoops around, forcing it to abort its attack lest it accidentally hit itself again; if it doesn''t target him, he harasses it by turning into a bright spark of Firmament flying repeatedly into its eyes. It doesn''t even have the chance to try to target the Seed.


    Me? I observe. I examine. I look at every skill the Seedmother tries to use to save itself¡ªand I''m right. Strength, Durability, Reflex, Speed, Firmament... It has the full set of skills, and the simplified, two-dimensional nature of its skill circuits reveal something to me that''s much harder to observe within my own skill constructs.


    There''s a pattern. The Strength skills it uses all look similar to one another in overall shape, though not in the details; they''re triangular circuits, originating at a point and spreading out. Durability looks like ripples in a pond. Reflex looks like the branches of a tree. Speed looks like the spokes of a wheel.


    The only exception is Firmament. There''s no rhyme or reason in those skills. But it doesn''t matter: I''ve learned what I needed to learn.


    The Seedmother doesn''t allow us to harrass it like this for long, of course. It interrupts by study with a roar of pain and anger, then activates that concrete-melting skill; it takes a little longer this time, its shell so damaged it needs an extra few seconds to create a working circuit, but it still escapes before we can kill it.


    That''s fine. It''s expected. "Keep going," I say, speaking through the Knight; the metallic distortion sounds so different I almost don''t recognize my own voice. Ahkelios and Guard glance at each other.


    "Are you sure?" Ahkelios asks. "If we fight like this, we''re going to run out of Firmament."


    "I''m sure." I feel Firmament churning within me, eager to be used. I think I''ve actually managed to gather it faster than the Knight is expending it¡ªwhich is good, because we''re going to be using a lot of Firmament.


    The Seedmother re-emerges. Predictably, it goes for the Seed, still sitting on its rooftop¡ªbut the Knight and I are there in an instant, our intents merging into one. The entire minute Seedmother has been healing, we''ve been building up a blow with Concentrated Power.


    The moment the Seedmother begins to re-emerge, we strike, an Amplified Gauntlet warping our armor into a purified weapon and nearly doubling the force of the blow. It''s strong enough that I have to rapidly construct several Crystallized Barriers just to protect the Seed from the shockwave, and the massive Seedmother is sent physically flying. Half its face is shattered.


    It won''t be trying that again.


    Guard and Ahkelios go back to hitting it with everything they have. With the Seedmother on the back foot, it''s easier to get past the cracks in its shell. Meanwhile, the Knight allows me control, and I begin using a skill I haven''t used in a while.


    Timestrike.


    The skill that lets me land a hit at some point in the future. I fill a roughly Seedmother-sized section of the air with them, allowing the time setting of the skill to fluctuate mostly at random; I don''t need to hit it at a specific time. Not for what I''m planning.


    I keep harassing the Seedmother while I do this, of course. A blow to its shell every so often to keep it on its toes, to give Guard and Ahkelios the space to keep hurting it. To force it to use more skills and observe the shape of each of them. I''m not sure what to conclude yet, but my gut tells me it''s important.


    The Seedmother retreats again, as expected. Guard and Ahkelios look at each other¡ªthey''re both starting to look exhausted. The pace of the fight is wearing on them. But we have a minute to recover, and this will be the last time.


    I''m really hoping this works.


    "One more. Bring it to that corner. Guard, I need you to chain it down if you can."


    I take the lead. The Seedmother is far more cautious as it re-emerges this time, a Speed skill prepared on its back so it can dodge my first blow; clearly, it''s smart enough to learn. The teleportation skill it uses takes it away from me...


    ...directly toward the area I''ve filled with Timestrikes.


    "Got you," I mutter. The Knight grins savagely within me; Ahkelios and Guard aren''t sure what I''m talking about, but they follow the plan, harassing it with attacks, corralling it fully into that pre-prepared corner. Guard flares with power, drawing out the chains I''ve seen him fight with, and I watch as they expand in size.


    One leg. Two. Three. Ahkelios keeps it distracted until all six legs are chained down and Guard''s panting from the exertion in an oddly human way, his core flickering between bright and dark.


    I''m going to need to talk to him about that. Before I can complete that thought, though, a Premonition strikes. I see the Seedmother''s shell glowing, see the entire thing shine, feel a powerful sense of danger, and realize¡ª


    "It''s got a second phase!" I swear under my breath, wrapping Distorted Crux around myself and pushing forward with everything the Knight has. I''m not doing this fight again¡ªbad enough doing it once, and I don''t think Guard is going to be able to repeat this without a loop or two to recover.


    I only need one blow to make this work. I just need to hit it once.


    The Seedmother''s shell reaches a peak of brightness, nearly blinding¡ª


    ¡ªand my fist meets its face.


    Causal Shattering.


    Time to see if my plan will work.

 157 — Book 3, Chapter 16 — Temporality

    The Seedmother screeches in response, aborting whatever change it was attempting and instead bucking forward with enough force to fling me away; He-Who-Guards is immediately against my back, supporting me and keeping me within range. A flash of what looks like a Reflex skill on the beetle''s back tells me that it understands the danger it''s in, but it''s far too late for it to stop what I''ve begun.


    A new form of Temporal Firmament blasts out of me, tuned to a new force: an attack on causality, on the very nature of cause and effect. A Causal Shattering.


    A shockwave of pure time ripples across the Seedmother''s carapace, strong enough that it lights up in my Firmament sense like blinding fireworks. I feel the skill establishing itself across the Seedmother like a network of twisted spiderwebs, spinning a storm of threads not only around but through it. It establishes almost a hundred distinct, distorted segments within the beetle that each resonate with Causal Shattering''s power.


    The Seedmother tries to resist. It has a scant few seconds to try: the amount of Firmament it wields is so immense that it takes that long for my skill to complete. I can feel it blasting wild bursts of power out of its shell, trying to shake the hold I''ve established.


    Then a circuit forms across its shell¡ªit''s trying to use a skill.


    "Black Hole." He-Who-Guards identifies it faster than I can. In a moment, his thrusters are fully engaged and he''s there, right in the middle of that circuitry; I''ve tried to disrupt the Seedmother''s skill circuits before, though to no avail. It''s filled with too many redundancies.


    But maybe Guard''s figured out something I haven''t, because he strikes with a blade of Firmament directly into a corner of the circuit, and the whole thing sputters out.


    He''s been studying the circuits too, it seems.


    It tries again. A circuit forms in another part of its shell, and Guard is once again there, striking and cutting the skill out; I can''t help him, because it takes all my focus and energy to keep Causal Shattering going.


    "I cannot do this forever!" Guard calls out. Ahkelios hesitates for a moment on my shoulder, then flies forward, determination ringing through his Firmament.


    "I can help," he says.


    I''ve only ever seen Ahkelios doing this with me before, but apparently, his own capabilities have been evolving. I watch as he darts toward Guard and then merges with his Firmament blade, turning it a shade of bluish-green. I see Ahkelios''s color spread through Guard''s body as their Firmament becomes one.


    And then he''s moving. Twice as fast as before. The Seedmother tries desperately to fight, forming a half-dozen circuits at once, but it doesn''t matter when Ahkelios and Guard can move fast enough to get to all of them before they can fire. The mantis shares his speed and agility with Guard, draws directly from my Firmament to empower him, and together, they stop the Seedmother from fighting back.


    Which allows me to focus everything I can into the skill. It''s my first time using it in combat¡ªmy first time drawing this much Firmament into a single skill. I can tell what I''m trying to do with it is stretching it to its very limits.


    But, crucially, not outside of those limits.


    Causal Shattering rips apart the timestream of whatever I strike with it. The Knight is still active, and like all Inspirations, its influence changes the form of the skill just slightly. It gives it direction. It gives it intent.


    We''ve filled the Seedmother''s past with wounds. All the holes we''ve torn into its shell, all the damage that Guard, Ahkelios and I have worked to inflict¡ªIt''s been hurt again and again, and even though it''s managed to heal itself, those wounds are still there in its past. They exist in that timestream.


    I''ve filled the future with Timestrikes, aimed haphazardly across the space the Seedmother occupies. Every one of them is loaded with enough force to tear apart the shell, but far more likely, they''re loaded with enough force to rip through whatever internal organs might be present at the time the punch is delivered. Those attacks, too, are in the Seedmother''s timestream.


    And that timestream is mine. That''s what a Causal Shattering is. That''s the truth of the skill.


    [Mastery of Causal Shattering has improved!]


    The air cracks. No: it shatters. It fills with the scent of blood and decay.


    The sound that emerges from the Seedmother tries to be a roar but emerges as a choked, inhuman scream. There are suddenly dozens of wounds torn into the Seedmother''s body, oozing with blood and calcified time; half of them are from the past, the other half from the Timestrikes I''ve placed in the future. Some of them are far enough in the future that the flesh within has begun to rot, with worms and insects eating through it.


    Looking at the Seedmother through my Firmament sense is like looking at it through a cracked mirror. The damage is everywhere, all throughout its body, and I can feel the temporally-skewed inconsistencies through its cracked and twisted Firmament.


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    In one moment, it''s healthy, and in the next...


    Half-dead. It''s not completely dead, even now, but it''s dealing with more damage than we''ve ever managed to do to it, and it''s dealing with all that damage all at once. Even with Firmament reinforcement, it can''t keep up with its own body, now mutilated throughout time¡ªeven if it tries, that Firmament ends up being sent to the wrong time and place.


    Ahkelios has separated from Guard and is now standing on his shoulder, watching, but all three of us are basically frozen in place. I expected my plan to work, of course, but I hadn''t expected this degree of effectiveness; the way the Knight changes Causal Shattering turns it from a skill that''s a bit of a gamble to a skill that''s almost a guaranteed one-shot. It''s taken nearly all my Firmament and I feel a bone-deep exhaustion slowly filling me, but...


    Damn.


    "Your plans are... highly effective," Guard remarks after a moment of hesitation. His voice is a little quieter than it normally is, and he can''t quite seem to look away from the Seedmother.


    "Is it still alive?" Ahkelios flies a little closer, though he maintains a respectable distance. I don''t blame him.


    "For now," I say. I''m breathing heavily, I realize¡ªthe skill was a strain on me. Third-layer or not, I haven''t completely adapted to using skills at such a high level with that much Firmament.


    But we''ve won. I know that for a fact. Three tries, just like I predicted.


    What''s left are just the death throes.


    The Seedmother struggles to compensate. New patterns flicker to life on its shell as it tries to reverse the effect of my shattering. It fails. It can''t keep that circuitry consistent across time, nor does it even have enough shell intact to create a working circuit.


    It tries anyway. It tries to heal with a new, smaller circuit. It fails. Small or not, there''s nowhere for the circuit to be written. Flickers of Firmament start and then dissipate. It''s clinging on to life through sheer will, at this point.


    It tries the concrete-melting skill again. It fails. That one was barely an attempt¡ªthe circuit flickers to life, and then fades just as quickly.


    Slowly but surely, its struggles fade.


    I let the Knight evolution dissipate, wincing a little as my body screams in protest and a dozen aches and pains return. There''s a distinct sense of smug satisfaction from the Knight, as if it enjoyed beating down the Seedmother; I give it a small sense of thanks for its help, and there''s a response of what almost feels like a purr.


    Terrifying. I''m going to need to spend some time to understand exactly what these new Inspirations¡ªthese Evolutions¡ªentail. But for now, I''m just grateful for its help. A part of me expects some last minute change, some disaster to occur, but... there''s nothing.


    Instead, an Interface notification pops up in front of me, bright and bold.


    [You have defeated the Seedmother (Rank SS)! +372 Strength credits. +655 Durability credits. +322 Reflex credits. +407 Speed credits. +500 Firmament credits.]


    Rank SS. I can''t say I''m surprised, considering how much of a battle that was, though with the way each rank seems to jump exponentially I''m surprised the battle wasn''t harder.


    Not that I''m complaining. This is a lot of credits. It almost makes the pain of the Knight evolution worth it. I can practically feel the Inspiration scoffing within me at the thought¡ªof course it''s worth it, it thinks¡ªand I laugh internally in response.


    Honestly, considering the kind of damage I was able to take, it isn''t wrong. Some of the Seedmother''s attacks were entirely ineffective against our new armor. It''s part of the reason I was able to spend as much time examining the Seedmother''s shell and skills as I did. Part of the reason I was able to learn as much as I did.


    I''m still trying to deconstruct the implications, though. Strength, Durability, Reflex and Speed; if the skills can be physically distinguished based on how they''re constructed...


    A new Interface notification interrupts my train of thought, and I make a low, irritated noise in my throat.


    [Ritual Stage 1: Collect the Seed]


    Prerequisites:


    Defeat the Seedmother: 1/1


    Keep the Seed safe: 1/1


    "Looks like all we need to do now is pick up the Seed," Ahkelios comments, looking up at the rooftop. It''s balanced precariously on the corner of a now mostly-ruined building; the shockwaves from fighting the Seedmother didn''t exactly leave the city untouched. "Want me to get it?"


    "Not yet." I want to figure out what''s going on with the Interface skills before we trigger the next Ritual stage; whatever it is, I doubt it''s going to be easy to deal with. If we have to fight another series of monsters like this, the next stage is going to take a lot of loops to beat. "Ahkelios, have you ever noticed anything weird with the Interface''s skills?"


    "What do you mean?" The mantis blinks up at me. "They''re all weird."


    "The way they''re sorted," I clarify. "The categories."


    "They never seemed like they fit completely, but I figured it was just the Interface trying to sort them," Ahkelios says with a shrug. "Why?"


    "Just trying to figure something out."


    It''s possible there''s a language limitation here¡ªthat the Interface is just picking the closest equivalent word that describes a given category and using it. But if I try to sense the overall shape of the skills within my soul...


    It''s not something that''s easy to notice. The skill constructs are immense, complicated things, and Firmament sense doesn''t lend itself easily to geometric shapes. But I can approximate a guess by pushing Firmament through each skill and watching the shape that emerges.


    I''m right. Each category besides Firmament¡ªStrength, Durability, Reflex, Speed¡ªthey have consistent, repeatable, recognizable properties. Shape is an oversimplification, and this is only noticeable because the simplified nature of the Seedmother''s circuits gave me an idea of what to look for, but...


    This means the categories aren''t just the Interface trying to sort the skills into the best available category. It means the categories themselves aren''t nearly as arbitrary as the Interface wants us to believe.


    Ahkelios is watching me, following my train of thought. I don''t hide it from him. After a moment, he speaks, a little hesitant. "You think the Interface''s names for the categories are wrong?"


    I cock my head. "No," I say. I glance at the Interface again, at the faintly glowing words that tell me how many credits I have in any given category. At the thing that''s both the source of my power and the thing that''s corralling the direction of my growth.


    Strength, Durability, Reflex, Speed.


    Basic categories. Easy to understand. Easy to dismiss.


    "I think it''s lying."

 158 — Book 3, Chapter 17 — The Return

    Somehow, saying the words makes them feel all the more real. There are enough inconsistencies I''ve uncovered between the Integrators and the Interface that I''m no longer willing to take everything it says at face value. It doesn''t help that I know for a fact that not even the Integrators fully understand the purpose of the Interface¡ªit''s an object of worship for them more than it is something they control, and their limited administrative rights over it is a reflection of that.


    Unlike Kauku.


    The thought strikes me out of the blue, and I frown. He modified the Interface''s method of rewarding Inspirations with little more than a wave of a hand. He changed at least one Durability roll so that it modified me physically rather than rewarding me with skills, and he added a message into the Interface on top of that.


    Gheraa''s done something similar, but he couldn''t do that by default, could he? He added Temporal Echo to my Firmament rolls, and that seemed about the extent of his manipulation¡ªhe couldn''t send me a message through the Interface until...


    Well, until whatever he did just before he died. Whatever he did that gave me those skills. That gave Isthanok a chance.


    Kauku didn''t need to do any of that. It''s another mark in what feels like an ever-growing list of questions about what exactly he is.


    Not that any of this changes what I have to do next. Complete the stages, retrieve whatever memory it is Kauku wants from the Empty City, and then bring Gheraa back to life. The sooner I can get that done, the better¡ªbut even if the Intermediaries are repaired, I don''t think I care anymore about whether the Integrators are watching.


    Let them watch. There''s more at play than them. Bigger actors. Kauku is proof of that, even if I don''t know what his presence means yet.


    "Okay," I say, letting out a breath and gathering myself. "The Interface is lying. We can deal with that later. Ahkelios¡ªcan you get the Seed?"


    Ahkelios stares at me, a little nonplussed. "Are we, uh, not going to discuss the Interface lying thing?" he asks. I stare at him, mostly because I have no idea what more I''d say about it, and he raises his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, I''ll go get it. But for future reference, you don''t get to just say things like that and not elaborate."


    I chuckle. "It''s more that I haven''t finished putting together everything I need. We''ll talk about it later. Let''s just get the Seed first."


    It doesn''t take him much time to get it. He flies back, the glass orb clutched in his arms. I''m surprised there isn''t even a scratch on it, considering the intensity of the fight with the Seedmother.


    I reach out for it¡ª


    And the moment it touches my hand, it vanishes. The Interface pings me with an update.


    [Seed collected. Congratulations, Heir. Ritual Stage 1 has been completed.]


    [Bonus objective complete: Defeat the Seedmother without it entering its second phase! +200 Firmament credits.]


    [Progressing Ritual: The Empty City to Stage 2. Be aware that the Firmament levels required for dungeon alteration are hostile to fifth-layer lifeforms and below. Evacuation is recommended.]


    My eyes narrow on the notification. Fifth layer? How much Firmament is the Interface capable of usi¡ª


    Premonition activates. The danger is everywhere. Even with the skill, I don''t have time to react.


    Around me, Firmament roars to life, the pressure stronger than anything I''ve experienced before¡ªeverything I felt in the Intermediary is weak by comparison. The force of it is enough to push the breath from my lungs, to make Ahkelios vanish as his form is destabilized and he returns to shelter within my soul. He-Who-Guards collapses almost immediately onto his knees, using a single hand to stabilize himself; a choked noise emerges from his vocalizers.


    I remember Miktik.


    I don''t hesitate. The Knight Inspiration surges back to life around me. I''m drained enough that I can''t sustain the transformation for long, nor have I really recovered enough for this to be a good idea; I can already tell I''m going to pay for this later. But staying in the dungeon for anything more than a few seconds is going to be even worse.


    I grab Guard, launch myself back to the top of the building with the portal, and throw us both through it and back to Hestia.


    The pressure drops off almost immediately. The portal doesn''t seem to allow the immense outpouring of Firmament through, a fact I''m grateful for. I can only imagine the effect it might have on anyone around the portal if it had. I place Guard gently on the ground, then turn back to it¡ª


    I blink. The portal to the Empty City is still there, but where I could see through it and into the dungeon before, it''s now opaque. A golden film blocks the whole thing off. Carefully¡ªmore out of curiosity than anything else¡ªI reach forward to poke at the film, and it remains firm beneath my touch.


    I could try to break through, but that seems like a bad idea. A quick glance at the Interface more or less confirms the thought.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    [The Empty City has been locked. Time remaining before full establishment of Ritual Stage 2: 8 hours.]


    Ahkelios re-manifests as I frown at the notice, popping back up on my shoulder and shuddering.


    "That felt awful," he says. He glances at the portal, then at the screen I''m reading. "Eight hours?"


    "Yep," I say dryly. "I take it that''s never happened to you before?"


    Ahkelios looks troubled. "No," he says quietly. He stares at the portal for a long moment. "I hope..."


    "What is it?" I raise an eyebrow at him, but he shakes his head.


    "It''s nothing," he says. He hops off my shoulder and toward Guard¡ªthe former silverwisp is still lying on the ground, his vents cycling air rapidly. I don''t think he''s conscious. "Is Guard okay?"


    I kneel beside him. "He''s fine," I say. Nothing about his Firmament feels off. He''s just unconscious, and by the looks of things, he''ll be better in a minute or two. He wasn''t exposed long enough to...


    I sigh.


    "Looks like we have some time to kill," I say. I reach out with a hand, letting Ahkelios hop up onto my palm; with a thought, I summon the key to the Empty City and twist the portal shut. "Let''s wait for Guard to wake up and then see how Tarin is doing, yeah?"


    "Sounds like a plan," Ahkelios says quietly.


    <hr>


    If Rhoran had a mouth to snarl with, he would''ve. There was nothing here. Nothing he could attach himself to and take¡ªeverything here was too strong, too... distorted? There wasn''t a word for what they were. They lacked the consistency and life that other things did, and they lacked the element of emptiness that he could otherwise take over.


    Neither real nor an echo. Where even was he? He remembered vaguely going through a border. Remembered a transition from one region to another. But his senses were dull and almost meaningless when he was in this state; he''d turned himself into a parasite, into a devourer and conqueror of Firmament.


    That meant nothing in a place where all Firmament was either twisted to the point of meaninglessness or too strong for him to conquer. If he could just find something small enough to take over, he could grow in strength¡ªhop from host to host until he found someone or something that could crush the spirit of the irritating human that kept surviving his stupid Trial.


    His job was supposed to be easy! The Path he''d been in charge of consisted nearly entirely of "dead" planets and civilizations; they were hosts to Trials that the Integrators had long since given up on anyone actually completing. That they had anyone overseeing them at all was more of a formality than anything else. Being assigned to these Trials was something like a vacation. Or a retirement job.


    Until Gheraa, anyway. A younger upstart of an Integrator that insisted to the Upper Council that he''d find a way to complete one of these Trials¡ªto restart a dead Path. Suddenly he had to do work, to supervise, to actually contribute his Firmament to the Interface so it could operate as intended on Hestia.


    So what if he''d been a little rough with him? Gheraa needed to learn. If he hadn''t been able to restart the dead Path, no one could.


    Except the bastard had started rebelling.


    Now here he was.


    The longer Rhoran spent time as this¡ªthis parasite he''d been reduced to, the more coherent his thoughts were, at least. He wasn''t quite as subject to his mind shattering again and again like it had in the beginning, and he was starting to learn more about his new form. More about what he could do.


    That didn''t change the situation he was in. He was a Firmament parasite in a world filled with Firmament he couldn''t even touch. Everything he could sense was a realm beyond him.


    Ethan was here, he could tell that much. He was fighting some enormous thing that should''ve killed him a hundred times over. Rhoran could even tell that it had¡ªhe sensed the stutter-stop in his environment every time things reset.


    But he couldn''t affect the fight. He wasn''t strong enough. If there was just something he could attach himself to...


    He felt his frustration reach a boil when Ethan actually defeated the creature he was fighting. This was unfair. That human hadn''t even ranked highly for any kind of Firmament affinity¡ªhis base had been unstable and pathetic, and Gheraa''s selection of him had been idiotic! How¡ª


    The world shook. Firmament suddenly roared around him, so intense it blinded every one of his senses. Rhoran had no mouth with which to scream, but everything he was sang with agony.


    Ethan again. Had he figured him out? How had he done this? He should have been impossible to detect, even with a Firmament sense!


    He tried to escape, but it was all around him. There was nowhere he could go, nowhere he could hide, but he tried anyway, darting back and forth and searching desperately for something...


    There.


    A small dark spot. An orb of glass that wasn''t quite as saturated with heat and power, half-hidden from the world but not from him. Ethan must''ve missed it. He ran to it, his entire existence shaking and whimpering, and hid.


    <hr>


    There''s a presence in the crow village that makes me stop in my tracks almost as soon as I arrive. He-Who-Guards has recovered enough that he''s walking alongside me, though the glow of his Firmament is weaker than usual. It''ll likely take a few more hours before he''s completely able to recover.


    More importantly, however, is the crow that''s here. The crow that definitely shouldn''t be here, because he hasn''t been in any past loops. It can''t be anything I''ve done¡ªthere''s no Hotspot to investigate this time, and I''ve spent this whole loop within the Empty City. Which means... what, that the Integrators being disconnected from the Interface triggered this?


    It doesn''t really matter, I suppose. I don''t really have a reason to be afraid of him anymore. I stride forward¡ªhe''s yelling at Tarin, because of course he is¡ªand inject some Firmament into my voice. Just to make sure he hears me.


    "Naru," I say. He jumps with a squawk that''s almost identical to Tarin''s. Firmament flares from him defensively, but it retracts with a snap the second it makes contact with me, and he takes an involuntary step back.


    I frown. The Trials really do make things just about power, don''t they?


    "Tell me why you''re here."

 159 — Book 3, Chapter 18 — An Old Foe

    As satisfying as Naru''s fear of me is, there''s a part of me that recoils from it. It''s a well-deserved reversal of our first meeting, but our first meeting was me punching him in the face after he was particularly crass about Tarin being in a coma; there''s a difference between that and... whatever this is. It''s like he thinks I''m going to tear him apart just for touching me with his Firmament, and that I don''t particularly like.


    Not that I''d prefer his usual reaction, either. I haven''t forgotten the way he talked to me about his own parents. Or the way he treated Mari in that fight.


    "You''re the Trialgoer," he says, recovering. That conclusion''s probably easy enough to reach now that I''m stronger¡ªonly a Trialgoer would be able to reach the third layer, and he already knows all of Hestia''s Trialgoers. Naru''s eyes dart left, then right, as if assuring himself that there''s a means of escape. "This is your fault, isn''t it?"


    "I have no idea what you''re talking about," I say. Which is a lie, mostly; I''m pretty sure he''s talking about how the Integrators have been cut off from the Interface. I just want to figure out what he''s doing here before I say anything else.


    "Ethan!" Tarin pokes his head out of his hut. "You finally here! Why you die so much?"


    I blink, then let out a snort of laughter¡ªso much for intimidating Naru. The old crow is acting like his son isn''t even there, and the way Naru glares at his father in protest almost makes me feel bad for him. "Now you come out of your hut?" he demands. "When the Trialgoer shows up?"


    "He earn it," Tarin says dismissively. It almost makes me wince, the way he says it. Naru flinches at the words, then scowls, turning his attention to me instead.


    "So you''ve been dying a lot, have you?" Naru asks, the words a half-sneer. "You might as well give up on your Trial¡ª"


    Tarin baps him in the side of the head with a wing, making him sputter in protest. "You quiet. I need talk to Ethan."


    The old crow turns back to me. "You die too much! This idiot keep visiting and you die before he finish talking."


    Tarin''s as blunt as ever, although his words have a way of diffusing the tension. It probably helps that with me here, Naru seems almost afraid to act. "That''ll happen sometimes," I tell him. "I was fighting something powerful. I beat it, though. We should be done for a while."


    Unless the next stage of the Ritual tries to kill me right off the bat, anyway. Even then, it''s another eight hours until the dungeon opens again; there should be plenty of time to deal with whatever Naru wants.


    "Good training?" Tarin asks. I hum, glancing at the Mastery tab of the Interface.


    [Mastery: Causal Shattering | 1 of 3]


    Gain improved control of temporal distortions created by Causal Shattering. You may manually target one part of your target''s timestream.


    "Good training," I agree. The skill credits weren''t bad either. "Sorry for all the resets."


    "As long as it good training," Tarin says. He sizes me up for a moment, then nods. "Good. You grow a lot. No wonder Naru scared."


    "I''m right here," Naru growls. "And I''m not scared." He takes a few steps forward, pouring Firmament into his arm to reinforce it; it feels more like a threat display than anything, like he''s trying to make himself look bigger than he really is.


    "I asked you a question, Trialgoer."


    Premonition doesn''t activate.


    "And I told you I have no idea what you''re talking about," I say, raising an eyebrow. "You''re going to have to be more specific."


    Naru lets out a strangled noise. "The Interface," he says, struggling to keep his temper in check. "I can''t contact the Integrators. And I can''t¡ª"


    He snaps his beak shut before he finishes what he''s saying. I frown slightly. There''s something he doesn''t want me to know, then?


    I bet I can figure it out. I watch Naru silently for a moment. His breathing is a little frantic, and unlike most of my encounters with Hestian Trialgoers, he doesn''t seem prepared to bring up his Interface.


    Now that I think about it, I remember a notification that mentioned the Interface reverting to baseline programming; something about all the damage that was done to the Intermediaries.


    That has implications, doesn''t it? I don''t know what ''baseline programming'' is, but more likely than not, it means that the Interface doesn''t have any of the features the Integrators programmed into it.


    Features like contacting the Integrators, yes, but more than that. Trial-specific features. The things that give their Trialgoers an advantage in the Trials. In the context of this Trial, that means...


    Have the Hestian Trialgoers lost access to their loop-specific privileges?


    Being able to tell what loop I''m in, for instance. Or that ability they have to make notes for themselves so they can reference it at the start of each loop. It''d explain why Naru seems so uncertain¡ªwithout that information, there''s no way for him to know how much I might have grown through the loops. No way for him to know what I might have done.


    "Can''t check your notes?" I ask. Just to test the waters. Naru tries to control his reaction, but he flinches, and it''s enough.


    "None of your business." He says the words through a gritted beak.


    I shake my head. "The Integrators brought it on themselves. All I did was fight back." I pause in a pointed sort of way¡ªI remember very well how insistent he was that fighting against the Integrators was impossible. "You''re welcome."


    "Welcome?" Naru nearly explodes. His feathers puff up all at once, and I feel his Firmament surging within him. Premonition still doesn''t activate, but he looks like he''s only seconds away from throwing a punch. "Do you know what this means? The Integrators are the only reason Hestia is still here!"


    ...This is new.


    Now that I look a little closer at him, he seems... frazzled. It''s been a while since I last met him in the loops¡ªI remember being pissed at him because of the way he treated Tarin and Mari, and in particular because of his cavalier attitude toward Tarin''s coma.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I remember his argument with Mari. His insistence that fighting the Integrators was pointless. His pride in the power he''d gained, even at the cost of his own home. Mari mentioned something about him killing the other crows in the village¡ªnot on purpose, but because he couldn''t control the amount of power he wielded.


    Rather than learning to control it, he''d chosen to leave. To use his power to assert himself in one of the Great Cities, as the other Trialgoers did. It''s a huge part of his estrangement from his family.


    But now the Integrators are gone. He''s staked his pride on them, in a manner of speaking¡ªhis entire philosophy has been that it isn''t worth fighting them. That it isn''t possible to fight them.


    He''s shaken, I realize. On some level, he''s afraid, and not just of me.


    "Why did you come here, Naru?" I repeat my question. Naru looks at me¡ªreally looks at me¡ªand something in him seems to deflate.


    "I don''t know."


    There''s silence in the village for a moment. Most of the other crows are desperately curious about what''s going on. I see them casting fearful looks at Naru, peeking out of their huts or around a corner. They''re all otherwise keeping their distance, though; the village as a whole is quieter than it usually is, like the whole place is holding its breath.


    I wonder who he killed. I wonder how it happened. I never asked, now that I think about it; I''d accepted Tarin and Mari''s words at face value.


    Did he just come here because he was afraid? Because when everything he believed in began falling apart, he grew desperate enough to just... run back to his parents?


    I wasn''t particularly expecting to feel sympathy for Naru. Time loops make anything possible, I suppose.


    "You were yelling at Tarin when I arrived," I say.


    "He wouldn''t talk to me." Naru clenches a fist in frustration. Come to think of it, the fact that he''s got hands instead of wings has to be one of the physical upgrades from the Interface. "He just kept telling me to wait! But he''s fine talking to you, apparently."


    "Because Ethan Trialgoer." Tarin says the words as if they''re obvious. "I try talk to you before. But loop keep resetting. It annoying. Wait for Ethan better."


    Whoops. I hadn''t particularly considered how my repeated deaths might impact Tarin, but then I hadn''t expected Naru to suddenly show up, either. The Hestian Trialgoer grits his beak again in response, sputtering for a moment before falling silent; he doesn''t seem to know what to say. "How do you two even know each other?" he eventually manages.


    "Tarin helped me in the Trial for a while," I say.


    "You?" Naru almost seems at a loss before he whirls around to Tarin. "You helped the Trialgoer?"


    "He fighting Integrators. Of course I help."


    "You didn''t help¡ª" Naru cuts himself off again as he speaks, forcing himself to take a deep breath. "What did you do?" he asks, turning to me. His voice is almost pleading.


    "Stopped the Integrators from destroying Isthanok," I tell him honestly. "And most of the other Great Cities, too, probably."


    Naru stares at me. "You''re lying."


    "He not lying." Tarin sounds exasperated, like he''s had this conversation with Naru before. "He save village too."


    Naru turns to stare at his father. "Save... what do you mean, he saved a village? This village?"


    "What other village there?" Tarin asks, looking affronted. "They start raid. Ethan stop raid. He not stop raid, village gone. Same with glass city."


    Naru opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again. It takes a moment before he speaks. "They aren''t... supposed to..." he starts, and then he trails off, sounding lost.


    Ahkelios has been silent this whole time. I can feel a strange mix of emotions from him¡ªsome of it is contempt, but there''s also sympathy. He''s familiar with how Naru''s feeling in some way.


    "Integrators lie, Naru," he says.


    "I know that!" Naru snaps. He glares at Ahkelios¡ªand then he freezes, as if paying attention to him for the first time. "Wait¡ªAren''t you¡ª"


    Ahkelios doesn''t respond. He stares right back at Naru challengingly, waiting for him to finish his sentence, but eventually Naru just shakes his head.


    "Even if you''re telling the truth," Naru says, and he says it almost desperately, like he''s trying to convince himself more than he''s trying to convince me. "We still need them. We can''t¡ªHestia needs them."


    "Why?" I ask.


    "Because," Naru hisses. "They''re the only ones keeping us in check. The rest of the Hestian Trialgoers, the Disconnected. The only reason there''s a balance is because we all know the Integrators are watching us, and even then it doesn''t stop most of us from acting against one another. We''re just a little more subtle about it. Take away the Integrators, and¡ª"


    The ground rumbles. I glance around sharply.


    "Never a break, is there?" I mutter.


    Technically, this isn''t my battle to fight. If the Trialgoers don''t have access to their loop privileges in the Interface, then they aren''t a threat to me¡ªall that will happen is that they''ll cycle their actions again and again with every loop.


    But just because they aren''t a danger now doesn''t mean they won''t be eventually, and in that sense, this is the perfect opportunity to find out everything I can about Hestia''s Trialgoers.


    "I can''t tell if you actually care about your village or not," I say to Naru. He stiffens a bit at my words. "Last time I spoke to you, Tarin was dying, and you didn''t give a shit. You fought Mari and punched her through several trees. I don''t trust you."


    Naru says nothing, but there''s a flicker in his eyes, and his jaw tightens. There''s something he wants to say.


    "But I''m willing to concede I might not have the full story," I say, eyeing him. "And something''s coming that''s got you on edge. You said you don''t know why you''re here. Is that true?"


    Naru mutters something under his breath. I stare at him, and he snarls¡ªnot at me, but at himself. "No. Yes. I don''t¡ªI don''t know why I ran here, but I''m being chased. Another Trialgoer. Versa. She''s got a grudge against me."


    "And you brought her here?" I ask, my tone disbelieving.


    "I didn''t know where else to go," Naru finally snaps. "The loops are killing Hestia and it''s going to die even faster without the Integrators and no matter what else you think of me, I don''t want that to happen. None of us do! Is that what you wanted to hear?"


    I press my lips into a thin line. That''s a lot of important information that''s apparently been withheld from me. "It''s a start."


    Good enough for now, anyway.


    Premonition activates. The ground shakes again, and I feel foreign Firmament being channeled through it¡ªno, more than that. The feeling''s familiar. This is...


    Phaseslip.


    I match her phase, then grab the newcomer''s fist and tear her out of the ground. Her Firmament makes contact with mine¡ªshe''s strong. Stronger than Whisper and Naru, and close enough to me that I can''t tell which of us would win in a fight.


    "Pleasure to meet you," I say. Versa hisses at me, though it seems more like reflex than actual hostility.


    She''s also a spider lady. Great.


    <hr>


    Rhoran took a moment to understand where he was, to understand what Ethan had done. It had been difficult for him to put the pieces together, until now.


    That human had triggered a Ritual. It must''ve been a Ritual for that dungeon he''d gained access to, though Rhoran couldn''t remember the name of it for the life of him. What he cared about was the fact that he had an opportunity.


    Ritual stages were generally things the Integrators couldn''t interfere with. It was the natural progression of a dungeon, quantified and held in place by the Interface.


    But Rhoran wasn''t an Integrator anymore. And even if it was accidental, he was in a place where the next stage of the Ritual was being... programmed, for lack of a better word. Generated.


    Everything in the dungeon itself was too powerful for him to infect, but this?


    It was the perfect environment for a parasite.

 160 — Book 3, Chapter 19 — Acceleration

    Versa stares at me. She doesn''t snatch her wrist out of my hand. Instead, all four of her eyes fixate on me then scan me slowly from head to toe.


    It''s... uncomfortable. I get the feeling that she''s assessing me¡ªdeciding whether or not I''m a threat. Unlike Naru and Whisper, she doesn''t immediately flinch away from me. Instead, the spines along her arms and shoulders bristle.


    I can''t tell what that signifies. Excitement? There''s definitely a sense of interest in her eyes, but it''s the kind of interest that makes the hair rise on the back of my neck.


    "Trialgoer." There''s a distinct series of clicks in her voice as she speaks. She straightens, pulling her wrist easily out of my grip; it''s a moment before I realize she disabled Phaseslip to do so. "I''m surprised to see you here. Figured you''d be off doing... whatever Trialgoers usually do. Fighting monsters? Looking for the exit?"


    "Do you know where it is?" I keep my tone casually disinterested. The whole thing about the Trial''s exit is pretty low on my list of priorities, but I''m not going to pass up information that might be valuable.


    "That would be telling." Versa grins at me, something sparking in her eyes. "You could always make me tell you."


    I narrow my eyes. She''s spoiling for a fight. I don''t think she''s as hostile as Naru indicated, but more likely than not...


    Her eyes flicker to Naru, and I see a clearly recognizable emotion. Distaste.


    She''s about to attack, but not me. Naru realizes it a second after I do, and Firmament flares up around him defensively; I feel it being channeled into a skill a fraction of a second before all his feathers turn silver. Versa whips past me a second later to deliver a punch¡ªher feet dig into the ground hard enough to leave a crater behind, and she swings two arms directly into Naru''s chest.


    He blocks. Barely. I hear him grunt as her fists dig into his forearms, creating a series of spiderwebbed cracks in his silver shield. He tries to retaliate, but he''s ponderously slow in comparison: she leaps back before his retaliatory punch can land. There''s a shockwave of force that travels from his fist, but it dissipates by the time it hits her.


    Interesting. That looks like a skill that captures and returns the force from the attacker. There''s an upper limit on it, judging by the way Naru rubs at his arms¡ªone of them looks like it might be broken.


    "Uh, Ethan?" Ahkelios asks. "I feel like we should do something about this."


    "I do not believe I have recovered sufficiently for this," Guard mutters. He looks more annoyed than he does frightened, though.


    "Dealt with them before?" I ask.


    "Naru visits occasionally," Guard grunts. "I do not have all my memories of him, but he''s... troublesome."


    "I bet he is." I let my Firmament flow into my core, channeling a skill I haven''t had the chance to properly test. Distorted Crux.


    The Seedmother was too big for the skill to really show its strengths; the most it could do against it was allow me to dodge its projectiles. It doesn''t help that like my other rank S skills, it consumes a ton of Firmament to keep it going.


    But I don''t need to keep it going for long.


    Versa launches herself toward Naru again; this time, I step in her way, and she begins to slow down. She realizes what''s happening quickly, but not quickly enough¡ªshe has too much momentum to change directions quickly, and more importantly, I don''t think that''s what her skillset is based around.


    Speed and quick, rapid blows. Distorted Crux trumps whatever Speed skill she''s using. There''s not much you can do if time itself is slowing down around you, and the closer she gets to me, the more time slows. I take a step closer, hiding my grimace at the way the Firmament draw increases; judging by the way she begins to wince, I''m guessing she''s draining her own Firmament trying to defend against the skill.


    She can move more than most would be able to, but this is still more than enough for me to catch her by the wrist. Her gaze flicks up to me, evaluating.


    "Fine. I surrender." The words come out slow and distorted. Naru tries to take advantage of my hold on her, because of course he does¡ªI feel him gathering energy for a massive blow that would not only take her out but probably half the village with it. I levy a glare at him.


    Tarin, meanwhile, hits him with a wing. "Stop!" he squawks angrily. "You blow up village again!"


    Naru stops. Good. I''m not sure I have the Firmament left to deal with that.


    I can already tell dealing with this fight in every loop is going to be a pain.


    <hr>


    A tentative, uncomfortable truce follows. Versa doesn''t leave¡ªshe seems to recognize that her presence is making Naru uncomfortable, and she''s enjoying that. In fact, she sits herself as close to him as possible, practically leaning on him despite his attempts to bat her away.


    "Are you sure she isn''t going to try to kill him again?" Ahkelios whispers to me. I glance at them, then shake my head.


    "I think she''s having more fun making him uncomfortable right now," I say dryly.


    "Sure am!" Versa says cheerfully. She crosses her legs on the log she''s sitting on, places one hand on Naru''s shoulder, and balances precariously in a semi-lean that makes the massive crow tense up.


    "I feel sorry for him," Guard comments.


    "Naru said you have a grudge against him," I say. "What''d he do?"


    "Oh, you know." Versa shrugs, but there''s a nasty smile in her voice that tells me she knows I won''t like whatever she''s about to say¡ªwhich is interesting, because she shouldn''t know anything about me yet. "Killed some people I consider under my protection."


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    "I didn''t know they were under your protection," Naru growls out.


    "Not an excuse, featherbrain," Versa says with a shrug. "You know how I operate. You should''ve looked out for my mark."


    "Do I want to know why you felt justified killing people?" I ask, rubbing my temples. Naru glares at me.


    "I maintain a strict border around my city," he says. "If you trespass, I take care of it. Simple as that."


    "You''re an idiot," Versa says. "Just say what we all know; it''s an opportunity for credits for you."


    "The credits are a bonus," Naru says, which isn''t a denial. "I don''t allow trespassers. Everyone knows it. It''s on them if they enter the city borders without getting approval."


    "What, approval through the process your draconian guards force on everyone?" Versa rolls all four of her eyes. "Spare me. I don''t think they even bother submitting half the reports. In fact, I wouldn''t be surprised if they pretend people are approved just so they can watch the slaughter."


    Naru stiffens. "They wouldn''t do that," he argues, but wow is it obvious he doesn''t believe what he''s saying. So much so that Versa doesn''t even bother with a response.


    "I no longer feel sorry for him," Guard says.


    Yeah, I''m with Guard; I take back my sympathy for him. It''s amazing he can say that and still claim to care about the loops killing Hestia, which is admittedly my main concern at the moment. I haven''t forgotten the claims Hestia''s Heart made to me all the way back in the Quiet Grove.


    That it''s dying. That it needs help. That the planet is filled with echoes of past loops. Ahkelios is one of them, and many of the monsters I''ve encountered, I suspect, are similar distortions. It''s been a while since I''ve tried to establish a Temporal Link with any of them.


    Maybe I should.


    Tarin and Mari already know about all this, given the looks they''re giving their son. He withers a little bit under their disapproval, but he also isn''t apologizing. Mari makes a noise of irritation low in her throat before going back to cooking; Tarin looks at Naru with an expression that''s somewhere between angry, disappointed, and sad.


    I rub my temples. "Okay," I say. "I''m going to put that aside for the moment, because as much as I''d love to argue with Naru, I''m going to have to do it every single loop, and that sounds exhausting."


    "Can''t disagree with you there," Versa says cheerfully.


    "I already argue with him a lot," Tarin says. "It not work. He stubborn."


    "I am protecting my city." Naru''s words come out as a growl.


    "I need to know more about what you said," I say, ignoring the exchange. "You said the loops are killing Hestia. And about it dying even faster without the Integrators. Versa¡ªis that true?"


    "Yep," Versa says with a shrug. "Honestly, the only reason I didn''t kill you right off the bat is because I need to talk to you about that. Who knows if you''re going to be in the same spot next loop."


    That''s... a dangerous thing to admit. I raise an eyebrow at her. "You think you could have?"


    Versa smirks. "Fifty-fifty. I would''ve enjoyed the challenge. Too bad I wouldn''t remember it. Now that I have a better idea of what you can do, maybe sixty-forty."


    "Bold claim," I say. I don''t mind it; better to be underestimated than overestimated, and with her loop privileges denied, I''m going to have the information advantage eventually. "Why is Hestia dying?"


    "Why are you asking her for answers?" Naru bursts out. "I''m the one that told you about this!"


    Is... is Naru really getting jealous over who I''m asking for information? I stare at him. Versa does, too. All of us do. He shrinks back a little bit under the collective force of our gazes, but tries to keep his chest puffed out.


    "Okay," I say. "Why is Hestia dying, Naru?"


    "Because," Naru says, floundering for a moment. "It''s¡ªthere''s been too many loops. You''ve seen all the echoes from the past loops, right? The monsters."


    "Sure." There''s quite a lot of them on the way to the Great Cities, although I rarely stop to fight them. Most of them aren''t very interesting challenges, and the few that are aren''t usually worth the slog to get to. Or are just disgusting.


    "There aren''t supposed to be so many monsters," Naru says. "But the more loops there are, the more echoes arrive. And the more... we call them Tears, but the Interface calls them Hotspots."


    I frown. A Hotspot is where I first met Naru. I remember completing one of them¡ªit''s the one that gave me access to the Empty City¡ªbut it hadn''t struck me as anything significant at the time. "Why Tears?"


    "Because they keep getting bigger," Versa says. She leans back against a manufactured web of Firmament. Naru glares at her, but she continues, unphased. "Like a tear in the fabric of space. It''s hard for us to track things across Trials, because we don''t get to keep our memories of previous Trials. But there are a few tricks. Marks we can leave to check on things, basic information we''re allowed to retain."


    "And the reason you''re talking to me about them?" I ask. If Versa is bringing this up to me specifically, then it''s because she thinks there''s something I can do about them¡ªmore than what she and the rest of the Hestian Trialgoers can do on their own.


    "We can close the Tears with some effort, but we aren''t officially part of the Trial," Versa says. "It''s not as effective when we do it, and they get bigger from loop to loop, not just Trial to Trial. The Integrators keep them somewhat in check, and we can use our notes to keep an eye on them. But thanks to you, we don''t have access to that anymore."


    "I''m not apologizing for that."


    "I don''t expect you to." Versa seems amused more than anything. "And frankly, most of us are still going to attack you on sight. Fun fact: killing you? Worth a lot of credits for us."


    Of course it is.


    "But we''re technically aligned in purpose for this," she continues. "If we want to properly close a Tear¡ªat least for your Trial¡ªwe''re going to need your help. So what do you say, Trialgoer? Care to close a Tear or two?"


    "What happens if I don''t?" I ask.


    "Well, I''d threaten to hunt you down, but it''s not like I''d remember to do that." Versa hums to herself. "But you don''t want those growing too big. It''d affect your Trial. And judging by the way you''ve been protecting people, you don''t like it when your Trial hurts people, so..."


    She''s not wrong. I sigh. I have a bit of time between each Ritual stage in the dungeon, so this seems worth pursuing.


    "Fine," I say. "If you have a Tear¡ª"


    "Me first," Naru interrupts. "There''s a Tear near my city. I need you to get rid of it."


    I stare at him. Versa just shrugs; she doesn''t seem to care one way or another, as long as the Tears are getting closed.


    "If I''m going to help you close your Tear," I say, "then you''re coming with me."


    That way, I get to learn about everything Naru can do. And maybe find out more about what''s going on with his relationship with Tarin and Mari. There''s a few things there that seem... unspoken. Not that I''m planning to act as bird-therapist.


    My thoughts are interrupted by a loud declaration of "Food!" from Mari. She dumps a selection of plates in front of all of us. "Eat," she says. "I not know what you do, but eat first. Then go."


    She looks at me, and something in her seems to soften. "I not remember you," she says, but she bows her head slightly. "But you protect husband. And Hestia. Thank you."


    I offer her a small smile as I take my plate.


    Hestia told me it was dying. Whatever these Tears are, I suspect they''re just a symptom. Like with everything else, I''m going to have to dig deeper.


    Maybe Kauku will have some answers. I feel the Knight stir within me at the thought. The rest of the Inspirations are there, waiting for me to take them. All I have to do is be strong enough to receive them.


    The Tears can be a start while I wait for the Empty City to finish whatever it''s doing.

 161 — Book 3, Chapter 20 — In Which a Very Important Misunderstanding is Addressed

    Before I leave, I pay a visit to Virin. I haven''t forgotten the way he helped me out with imbuements, and it''s because of him that I was able to fix He-Who-Guards. It''s because of him that Isthanok''s casualties weren''t... well, significantly worse. The research he wants me to help with is a small price to pay in comparison, even if I haven''t kept up with it as much as I should have.


    This time, though, I notice something I haven''t noticed before. I can feel the imbuement within the stone through my Firmament sense. More importantly...


    "This thing has a Strength skill in it," I mutter in surprise.


    It''s not a weak Strength skill, either. My ability to parse Firmament constructs isn''t so advanced that I can immediately tell what skill it is, but I can at least tell what level of complexity it''s at. As far as I can tell, this thing is at least a rank A skill. Maybe even higher.


    "Interface skill?" Virin asks immediately, leaning close in interest. His daughter plays around near the back of his hut, uninterested in what we''re doing.


    "No. Well, I don''t know," I admit. I''ve encountered skills outside the Interface frequently enough that I''m starting to wonder if they originate with the Interface at all. "Maybe. But it feels like a Strength skill."


    "How you know?"


    "It''s hard to explain." I quite literally don''t have the words to explain it, and even if I did, Naru''s waiting for me outside¡ªI don''t really want to unveil all the secrets I''ve discovered right in front of him. "I only figured it out recently. You''ll have to trust me."


    "I trust!" Virin says firmly; I have to laugh a bit at his enthusiasm. He''s never failed to be incredibly excited every time I tell him we''re working together on this.


    Now. How to go about this...?


    Knowing that it''s a Strength skill is helpful, but it doesn''t solve the entire problem. Skill constructs are still vastly more complicated than I have the capacity to understand. But I can compare the construct to the ones I have in my soul and get a better idea of where the input mechanism is supposed to be.


    There. On the left side of the stone, where a series of whorls are inscribed. I aim a trickle of Firmament into the center of those whorls.


    Almost immediately, I can tell that this isn''t quite right. The good news is that it partially works¡ªI can feel Firmament being projected out of the stone, a solid brick of force that knocks over one of Virin''s chairs with a clatter and startles his daughter, who immediately flies up into her nest.


    "Whoops," I say, embarrassed. "Sorry."


    The bad news is that that''s all I get out of it. The slight misalignment of Firmament is enough that the whole thing disintegrates after. I expect Virin to be disappointed, but instead, he''s practically hopping up and down with excitement.


    "It work!" he exclaims. "You make it work!"


    "Well, partially," I say, holding up the dust. "It still broke after."


    "But you can fix next time, yes?" he asks, clutching my hands and staring at me with wide eyes that look remarkably like a puppy''s. I laugh.


    "Yes, I''m pretty sure I know what I did wrong." Too much Firmament, for one thing¡ªthis thing isn''t designed for a third-layer practitioner¡ªand for another, the real activation spot is a little bit to the left of where I''d tried. And here I''d assumed ''center of the whorls'' was a safe bet. "We''ll get it next time."


    "Yesssss." Virin looks delighted. "We finally figure out! Now I can learn. Make more!"


    "You can make more of these?" I ask.


    "Yes." He nods, incredibly sure of himself. "If I can use? I can make again."


    Oh. Oh, that''s valuable. Dangerously valuable. If the Disconnected are making vials that grant skills to people, if the Trialgoers are after ways to grant Interface skills to regular citizens... this might be the safest and most replicable way to use skills yet.


    I say nothing. We can talk about this properly when Naru isn''t around. "We''ll talk more next time," I promise.


    Virin bids me goodbye with an excited hug before he runs to the back of his hut to play with his daughter; I can hear her squealing in delight as he swings her around, and I chuckle a little to myself. He really does love imbuements and everything related to them.


    Naru, of course, spoils the mood as soon as I exit the tent.


    "You done?" he asks. His voice is a low semi-growl, like I''ve tested his patience with this little detour.


    "Nope. Need to get some supplies for the trip," I say casually, more to mess with him than anything else. Naru makes a frustrated noise.


    "You are wasting time," he says.


    "Yeah, I was just kidding." I grin. One thing about the changes to my body ever since that second and third phase shift¡ªI haven''t needed to eat or drink nearly as much as before. Even without access to the Empty City to serve as storage for food and drink, I''ll be fine for this little detour.


    "Oh." Naru blinks, apparently thrown off by the joke. "Well... fine. I''ll lead the way. You better keep up, Trialgoer."


    "My name''s Ethan, you know."


    "I don''t care." Naru refuses to look at me. "I''m not even going to remember that next loop."


    Well, he''s got a point. I glance around, looking for He-Who-Guards and Ahkelios; the former is off trying to recover as much as he can before the trip, and Ahkelios is with him. There''s something he wants to try to help with Guard''s recovery process, apparently? I don''t know the details.


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    "They''re near the river," Naru grunts at me.


    "Huh. Thanks," I say absently.


    I find them talking quietly in a quiet corner of the village¡ªnear the river, just like Naru said. Ahkelios is seated on Guard''s knee, staring out at the nearby river and leaning back against the automaton''s hand. From what I can hear, Ahkelios is asking Guard about Hestia. About what it was like before the Trials.


    I cough politely to get their attention.


    "You guys ready to head out?" I ask. Ahkelios glances up to me first, hopping off Guard''s knee and flying to my shoulder.


    "Yep!" he says cheerfully.


    "I am ready," Guard says solemnly. He gets to his feet a little slower than he normally might, but the Firmament within him is swirling as strong as ever; looks like he''s mostly recovered.


    Versa isn''t with us, which I''m quietly grateful for; Naru I can deal with, but if Versa decides to turn on me while I''m dealing with a Hotspot, it''s going to be irritating at best and disastrous at worst. She gives me a codeword I can use¡ªI''m somehow entirely unsurprised she has one¡ªand tells me the code means we''ve agreed to work together.


    Somehow, I don''t believe her. She''s exactly the type of person that probably has a half-dozen scenarios embedded into her codewords; she''s just using me as a replacement for what the Interface is no longer offering.


    It''ll be an interesting game to play, and we both know it. If I use her system as intended, it gives her the information advantage; if I figure it out, though, it gives me the advantage. The gleam in her eyes tells me she knows exactly what she''s doing.


    For now, though...


    "Let''s go, then," I say. "Naru? Lead the way."


    <hr>


    There''s a solid five minutes where I''m pretty sure Naru is testing us¡ªgoing as fast as he can to see if he can lose us, not because he actually wants to lose us, but just to test himself. To see if he can.


    Unfortunately for him, Warpstep is more than capable of keeping up, and Guard''s ability to just fly above most of the forest and terrain makes up the difference as far as speed goes. He''s forced to slow down eventually, and even though he doesn''t say anything, I can see him breathing heavily as he tries to catch his breath.


    "We can take a break, you know," I say, mostly to break the silence.


    "I don''t need a break." Naru sounds affronted. "How weak do you think I am? I''ve made this trip dozens of times."


    "I need a break," Ahkelios quips.


    "I mean, if you need a break..." Naru says. I turn to stare at Ahkelios, perched snugly on my shoulder; he stares back up at me, a mischievous little grin on his face.


    I sigh. If it works...


    Naru clearly does need a break. I''m not sure what skills he used to try to blast ahead, but it drained a pretty significant portion of his Firmament; if I had to guess, he''s misusing a skill that isn''t actually intended for speed. A Strength skill, maybe? He''s certainly left behind a trail of destruction. I''d be concerned about it if not for the fact that everything will be reset in the next loop anyway.


    "Let''s take a break, then," I say. We come to a stop¡ªNaru a much harder stop than the rest of us, in the sense that his landing digs a trench into the ground. He comes out partially covered in dirt and mud, and shakes himself violently to get it off.


    I put up a Crystallized Barrier. I''m not dealing with all that. Guard promptly steps behind it as well.


    The ensuing silence is awkward. Naru pants, chest heaving, as he tries to gather himself; I watch him for a moment before inclining my head toward a nearby pond.


    "There''s some water over there, you know," I say. He blinks at me as if only just remembering that I''m there, and mumbles the most awkward ''thank you'' I''ve ever heard before trudging over and dunking himself in.


    Steam rises from the water, along with a not-insignificant number of bubbles. Whatever skill he used generated a lot of heat, too. Must''ve been uncomfortable.


    When he emerges, Naru looks... well, wet. But also a good deal calmer than he was before. He doesn''t quite look me in the eyes, but he appears to be considering something for a while. I wait for him to speak.


    "You said..." he starts, and then he falls silent again. It''s another moment before he gathers himself enough to speak. "You said my father was dying and I didn''t care."


    "I did say that." I remember the moment quite clearly.


    "Why did you care?" There''s a bitterness in his voice, and something else I can''t quite place. "Your Trial is a time loop. It''s not like lives matter to you. You can just kill people and take their credits. Isn''t that what you''re already doing?"


    "First of all, no." I don''t quite manage to keep the disgust out of my voice. "That''s horrific. I wouldn''t be able to do that and stay sane."


    Naru blinks at me like he doesn''t understand. "You''re lying," he says. "You''re too strong for someone who doesn''t farm everyone and everything around them."


    Farm? Even the wording makes a thread of revulsion coil through me. In a way, I''m glad¡ªit''s proof the loops haven''t managed to change me the way the Integrators have no doubt been hoping for.


    "My memory is not perfect," He-Who-Guards interjects. "But I have some memory of the loops. He has not done this."


    "What¡ª" Naru shakes his head. "You just haven''t seen it, that''s all! You weren''t there for every loop. I bet he''s even killed you once."


    "Not on purpose," I say dryly. I did push him into the Fracture, but in my defense, he''d been attacking me at the time.


    "It was not on purpose," Guard agrees. "However, Ethan, if it would help¡ª"


    "No, Guard." The thought alone is distasteful. There are better ways to gain credits. I don''t get that many from fights that don''t present some sort of challenge, for one thing. "And second, Naru, I wouldn''t have said he was dying if it was just a normal loop-related death. He''s died in the loops before."


    "What..." Naru trails off. For the first time, I see what looks like realization in his eyes. "He was actually dying?"


    "I''m realizing in retrospect that I don''t think I actually clarified that he was dying a permanent death," I mutter. "You know about the loops. You thought it was temporary?"


    "I don''t know what I was thinking," Naru says. He looks suddenly lost again. "But... probably. They weren''t supposed to..."


    Well, now I feel a little bad.


    Kind of.


    I probably could''ve at least clarified before punching him.


    "There was a Raid on the village," I say quietly. "Tarin was dead at the end of it, and the Interface is supposed to make deaths during raids permanent. He managed to fight it off, but it left him in a coma, slowly dying to the Interface."


    "But he didn''t die," Naru says. "He fought them. And won?"


    "With some help," I say. I wonder if I should let him know his presence in the Hotspot that held Tarin''s cure nearly meant his father''s permanent death.


    Probably not. He looks like he''s going through a lot, judging by the look on his face.


    "You saved him," Naru says.


    "I helped." I shrug. The crow stares at me, looking¡ªfor once¡ªvery, very lost.


    Eventually, he shakes his head. "Let''s get going," he says. His voice is quieter than it usually is. "If your friend has had enough of a break."


    "Ready to fly!" Ahkelios gives him a thumbs up.


    To my surprise, Naru actually gives him a small smile.

 162 — Book 3, Chapter 21 — Carusath, City of Fire and Brimstone

    The city Naru rules is apparently called Carusath. The name''s familiar to me¡ªit''s the one Tarin cried out when he was pretending to be working for Naru, back in Isthanok¡ªbut what I wasn''t expecting is how hot the place is. We''re not even in the city itself and I can feel the heat radiating out from the literal crater the city is built in.


    "You live here?" I ask in disbelief. Naru glares at me.


    "And?" There''s a note of challenge in his voice.


    "Just... nevermind." I shake my head. I''m not going to get into it with him. I prefer my climates cold, but considering Naru can apparently boil a pond just by diving into it, I assume he has a different relationship with heat than I do.


    My gaze lingers on what little of the city I can glimpse over the edge of the crater. It doesn''t look like it''s the most well-maintained place¡ªthe buildings are full of cracks, each one looking like they''ve been haphazardly pieced together from broken and crumbled stone. They''re kept together only barely by plugs of golden Firmament that seal the cracks together.


    There''s the sound, too. It doesn''t sound like any city I''ve ever been to. Isthanok is loud and bustling, and even the crow village is often filled with the chatter of the villagers. Carusath, by contrast, sounds... angry. The few voices that rise far enough out of the crater to reach me sound violent, and my Firmament sense confirms bursts of power that feel like people fighting.


    No surprise that the city looks half-destroyed, if this is the norm. I glance to Naru to see if he''s at all concerned about it, but he doesn''t seem to care.


    "We''re not here for you to tour the city," Naru grunts, noticing the look I''m giving him. "You can sightsee some other time."


    "That''s not exactly what was on my mind," I say dryly. "There are people fighting down there. Aren''t you worried?"


    Naru gives me a blank look. "Why should I be?"


    "You''re not worried about people fighting in your city?"


    "Not if they have a good reason for it." Naru shrugs. "They can do what they want. It''s not my job to stop them."


    He-Who-Guards makes a strangled-sounding noise. I spare him a glance¡ªhe''s clearly trying to hold back his commentary on this, and not entirely succeeding.


    "And what exactly is your job?" I ask.


    "Paperwork. Making sure trade is in order. Hiring guards." Naru seems faintly irritated by this line of questioning. "Don''t you know anything about running a city?"


    "Do you?" I ask.


    I''m not even trying to needle him. It''s an honest question, at this point.


    "It''s running, isn''t it?"


    I sigh. Clearly, this particular line of questioning isn''t going to go anywhere. Even Ahkelios looks affronted, and I don''t think he particularly cares about the intricacies of running a city.


    "The Tear is just ahead," Naru says with a grunt. I glance at the Hotspot Tracker in my Interface¡ªit''s been a while since I''ve pulled it up, but it''s working as well as ever. Thankfully, being disconnected from the Integrators hasn''t removed any features for me, just... reorganized them.


    "Looks like half of it is intersecting with Carusath''s borders," I note. It''s right on the edge of the crater. Now that we''re close enough, I''m able to run my Firmament sense along the borders, and what I feel makes my breath stutter for a moment.


    Versa and Naru aren''t wrong. This thing feels like it shouldn''t be here. The name Tear is an accurate one¡ªit feels like something''s ripped a hole through the fabric of Hestia and blown it wide open into an entirely different time and place. A wound left behind by a cosmic meteor.


    The analogy makes me wince. It''s... unfortunately apt.


    "That''s why I need you to get rid of it," Naru half-growls the words, like he hates saying the ''I need you'' part of that sentence. "I don''t know how much it''s grown, but I don''t let anything touch my borders. So if it''s grown this much then I''ve missed it for several loops."


    "Because you can stall it but not remove it," I mutter. "But I can remove them?"


    "They''re part of your Trial," he says.


    "That''s not the full picture." I step closer to the Tear, examining the edges of it; the sensation makes my skin prickle, like a part of me is physically reacting to this border etched into the world.


    It reminds me of... The Empty City''s final logs described something like this, didn''t they? I vaguely remember the mother who wrote those logs describing a dome manifesting around their city¡ªone that became solid over time, trapping anyone left within.


    "It is," Naru insists.


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    "Don''t forget," I say. "We aren''t connected to the Integrators anymore. My Interface reverted to the default, same as yours." I don''t need to mention the ANCHORED HERITAGE protocol or Kauku''s involvement in it. I don''t trust Naru that much.


    It seems enough to get the point across, at least. Naru is silent for a moment. "...Your actions in the Trial are deemed more significant by the Interface because you''re the Trialgoer," he tells me reluctantly. "And your position means you''re partially exempt from time. From the loops. Even if you''re using the default Interface, completing the Tear and whatever its requirements are should reduce its influence."


    "In other words, I can affect it because I''m not a part of the loops," I surmise. Simple enough. It also means that Tarin and Guard might be able to repair some of these Tears, but without the Interface to guide them...


    It''s a moot point, as far as Tarin is concerned. I don''t need or intend to pull Tarin into any more of this. Guard is another matter entirely, as long as he''s willing; his proxies give him an advantage no one else has.


    More importantly, though, I wonder...


    I reach out with Temporal Link, and there''s a reaction.


    It''s a subtle one. Temporal Link is one of my stranger skills, even now, and the information Inspect gives me is... limited at best. The skill allows me to make a connection with things that aren''t entirely synchronous with the timestream. Its main manifestation¡ªthe ability to create a duplicate of my past self¡ªcomes from the fact that I''m out of sync with time.


    And then there''s Ahkelios. There are the monsters scattered throughout the loops, some of them echoes of past loopers. Remnants.


    And now... these. The Hotspots. Tears, as the Hestian Trialgoers call them. It explains why Naru was investigating the appearance of a new Hotspot so desperately¡ªthe Integrators must''ve been spooked by the acceleration of Hestia''s decay.


    There isn''t anything I can do with the link¡ªnot yet¡ªbut I''m willing to bet that''ll change once I do whatever''s expected of me within this Hotspot.


    "So," I say without looking up. "Does this mean I have your official approval to enter Carusath? The Tear does cross your borders."


    Naru gives me a bewildered look. "What are you talking about?"


    "Well, according to Versa, you kill people who cross your borders without permission." I raise an eyebrow.


    "I am right here. I am giving you permission." The look the crow gives me is flat, like he doesn''t understand why I''m suddenly pressing on this point. It''s probably worse since I''m doing it right outside the Tear, when he''s close to getting what he wants out of me.


    "Yeah, but I don''t have the papers. Neither do Guard and Ahkelios," I say. "I wouldn''t want to be given special treatment just because we''re friends, you know?"


    "We''re not¡ª" Naru cuts himself off mid-sentence, his expression somewhere between a scowl and absolute bewilderment. "Why are you bringing this up now?"


    "Did you expect me to forget?" I shrug. "We weren''t crossing the border before. Now we are."


    "I''m giving you permission," he grinds out through a gritted beak, repeating himself.


    "Right, right," I say. "But if this goes to court, I''m not going to have any papers to back me up. We should go through the proper channels. Wouldn''t want to give you an excuse to maul me when I''m not looking."


    Naru looks like he has no idea how to respond or what to do with himself. I''m enjoying his reaction, honestly. But I''m not just messing with him for the sake of it.


    Part of it is that I don''t really want to just let this go. Naru''s attitude toward life is so different from mine that it''s going to result in a conflict sooner or later; I need to figure out a way to get past it, especially if we end up working together for more than one loop. A Hotspot is one thing, but anything that involves actual lives, or if a Raid starts here in Carusath... I need some kind of lever I can work with, and this is my best opportunity to try to figure him out.


    The second reason is that I should still be able to use the dungeon to preserve any approval papers he signs, or failing that, replicate it with one of my Temporal Link clones. It''ll make getting into Carusath easier, if I need to do it in the future.


    The third thing I''m doing is buying time while I analyze the Tear through my Firmament sense. It''s a solid dome of Firmament through which everything looks normal, but I know from experience that stepping in will cause it to activate. If I''m going to be clearing these regularly, I want to see if there''s anything I can use from the outside to determine what''s on the inside.


    And I do.


    It''s subtle, but it''s present¡ªa pattern I''ve seen again and again now that I''ve noticed it the first time. Right at the base of the dome, buried into the rock and dirt surrounding Carusath, there''s a small, complicated structure of Firmament. Not quite an imbuement, not quite a skill, but very distinct in its overall shape: a point spreading outward.


    Strength, if I''m reading it correctly. It''s incomplete, though: instead of forming a complete construct that loops in on itself with a stable input-output pattern, the way Interface skills do, this one explodes outward into a mess that stabilizes only barely into the shape of the Tear.


    Bizarre.


    It occurs to me that this is why the Interface is so crucial to skills. Outside the example of the Seedmother''s ability to use skills and imbuements explicitly performed by Trialgoers, I''ve seen at least two examples of skill constructs going haywire without the guidance of the Interface.


    The first lies in the way Virin''s stone just falls apart of Firmament isn''t fed into it correctly¡ªI shudder to think about what would happen if that skill was embedded into a person, without the Interface to guide where Firmament should be fed into it and where it should emerge.


    The second is here, where whatever this construct originally was has exploded outward and mutated in a way that skill constructs are almost certainly not meant to mutate. It all begins to paint a picture about skills, and about the Interface''s role in managing them in particular.


    What that picture is, I''m not sure yet. But I don''t like the feeling that''s beginning to build in the pit of my stomach.


    "Fine," Naru growls. "We''ll get your stupid paperwork done."


    I smile, innocent as I can. "Glad to hear it."


    There''s a fourth reason for all this.


    It''s the placement of the Tear. It''s not just right over the border to Carusath¡ªit covers one of the few paths down into the crater, in particular a now-abandoned guard station that presumably functioned as border control. Naru might not care enough to remember, but...


    Firmament Sight does a few things for me. It lets me see Firmament, yes, but a part of that is that it lets me see the world painted in different shades. Every object, every distinctive thing has its own innate Firmament. Some things are more distinct than others.


    Like the traces of blood scorched into the dirt.

 163 — Book 3, Chapter 22 — Burned Into the World

    The actual process of getting our papers done takes only a few minutes, partially because Naru''s presence right there makes every one of his guards snap to attention. They get everything approved and signed in record time¡ªin large part because Naru is there to immediately sign them off¡ªand I tuck the papers I''ve received into my pocket.


    I do note that Versa wasn''t kidding about the guards being draconian. They are, both metaphorically and in a literal sense. They''re probably the closest thing I''ve encountered to actual humanoid dragons on Hestia. Each of them are enormous¡ªat least seven feet tall¡ªand have tails long and heavy enough to dig into the ground they walk on.


    And that''s just the men. The women are all at least nine feet tall. It''s been a while since I''ve felt this physically small, though they all give me enough distance that I can tell they''re aware which one of us would win in a fight.


    It''s almost a pity. I wouldn''t mind brawling with a few of them. Or that might be the Knight within me¡ªit''s been largely quiet within my core so far, but strangely, I can feel it stirring at the presence of these guards.


    I''ll leave them alone. I have no particular desire to start a fight, at least for now.


    I make Naru spend the next minute or two signing off on the papers of everyone else who''s waiting at the guard post. He looks uncomfortable with the process, and the reason why is clear: I don''t think he''s ever actually been down here. He sends his orders from afar and gets all the paperwork sent to him, or sometimes not sent to him, depending on how his guards are feeling that particular day. He''s never had to look people in the eye while rejecting them for entry into the city.


    Not that I know why anyone would want to get into Carusath to begin with. The place is blisteringly hot, and the sounds of fighting haven''t abated. He-Who-Guards shifts uncomfortably in place, like he wants to interfere, and I don''t blame him¡ªthe only reason we don''t is because... well, the loops would cancel out any good we do, and any problems Carusath has is systemic. I doubt I''d be able to fix its issues just with my fists, as tempting as it is to try.


    My heart breaks as I listen to the pleas, though. Because there are things about the Great Cities that I''ve been entirely unaware of until now.


    Anyone who''s part of any Great City is technically, by Trialgoer agreement, allowed to travel between them¡ªthey''re citizens of all the Cities, in effect. Of course, that''s not how it works in practice: each Trialgoer in charge of a Great City has their own arbitrary entry requirements, and even if those requirements are met, they can arbitrarily decide to veto an entry.


    Normally, travel between the Cities isn''t so common that this would be a problem. But from what I''m hearing now...


    It sounds like when the Trial started, the Integrators saw fit to shuffle civilians around.


    There''s a couple standing in front of Naru, nearly begging him to sign their approval papers¡ªthey''ve been given the runaround for days. Apparently, their child''s in Carusath. Alone. They don''t know anything about where he is or how he''s doing except that he''s here; that''s all the information the Integrators decided could be made public.


    There''s a pair of... teenagers, at a guess. I''m not great with ages, and I''m not familiar with the species. But the Interface translates their whispers for me, and I can hear what they''re saying¡ªthey''re looking for their third sibling, their older brother. For all they know, their older brother is also looking for them, but this is the best lead they have.


    Almost everyone that''s queued up at the guard post is like this. There aren''t that many of them. Ten papers to sign at most. But the reason for that, I learn, is that a lot of them have largely given up trying to get into Carusath; there are camps and villages set up outside, consisting mostly of people who hope to see their family if they happen to leave the City.


    "Why didn''t I see any of this back in Isthanok?" I murmur quietly. Naru doesn''t hear me¡ªhe''s too busy staring at the couple in front of him and doing his best to pretend he doesn''t care, as best as I can tell, even as he roughly signs the papers and barks at the guards to let them in¡ªbut He-Who-Guards does, and he responds.


    "For all her faults, She-Who-Whispers is efficient," he says. "Everyone with family in Isthanok was allowed in, or those who did not meet the requirements were allowed contact with their family so they could determine alternate living arrangements. Not all of the Great Cities are nearly as organized."


    I can see how Whisper''s skills might work to her benefit with this, too. With her ability to listen in to the entire city, it wouldn''t have taken long for her to find the families of any given person.


    "Great doesn''t seem like the right word to describe this," I say.


    Guard shakes his head. His voice is quiet, but no less resolute. "It is not."


    At least this answers the question of why people would want to get into Carusath. I glance away from the guard post, toward where all the nearby camps are supposedly set up. It''s tempting to visit, to find a way to help.


    That the loops would render any help useless is only a small comfort.


    <hr>


    Whatever discomfort I feel at the sight of people begging to be allowed into the city, Naru''s discomfort is worse. He says nothing as we make our way back to the Tear, but his mood is clearly a stormy one. Any attempt to make small talk is deflected with a grunt or with particularly angry steps toward our destination.


    It''s hard to make out what''s going through his head. I can''t tell if he''s angry that I made him go through with signing the papers or if he''s just upset with the situation at the Carusath borders. Now isn''t the time to talk about it, though, and like it or not I think I''ve exhausted his willingness to have a conversation until at least after we''ve dealt with this threat to his borders.


    So I step into the Tear. The Hotspot, as the Interface calls it.


    My senses are a lot more refined than the last time I stepped into one of these. It''s not just Firmament Sight¡ªit''s the fact that I have a much stronger version of Temporal Fragment. It''s the fact that I''m now at my third layer, my third phase shift, and my depth of understanding with Firmament is that much deeper.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Which means I can tell almost immediately that this Tear is a distortion of a past moment in time.


    It''s not even the first time I''ve encountered phenomena like this. It''s just that most of the time, they''re contained. As monsters, for example. Or as echoes in time, like the past copy of Ahkelios I once met. This Tear is closer to what the Empty City is, though it isn''t formed out of the death of an Integrator. It''s not a solidified memory.


    It''s just calcified time.


    ''Just''. Like the calcification of time is a simple thing. I can feel the way it digs into the Firmament around me, the way it''s eating into everything in the area like a cancer spreading in the air. Naru, He-Who-Guards, and Ahkelios all follow me into the Tear, and as they do, it seals itself around us, almost like it knows we''re here.


    The traces of blood on the ground I saw before? They begin to rise.


    It''s a subtle thing at first. No real change in the Firmament around us, but wisps of energy begin collecting, begin solidifying. I watch it silently, waiting for the Tear to give us its challenge.


    The first one I encountered was what allowed me to obtain the Color Drain skill. I remember the way color oozed out of everything within the Tear, collecting into pools of iridescence on the ground; I remember the way those pools reacted to Firmament by turning into monsters that threw themselves at me. I remember the obelisk at the center of the Tear, sending out ripples of expanding Firmament that acted like a timer. The longer I took, the more of those pools would turn into monsters and attack, and the more those expanding ripples threatened to reach and obliterate me.


    This Tear is different. The Firmament collects into the pools of blood and slowly begin to expand. Naru takes a step forward, his feathers bristling and a growl beginning low in his throat, but I reach out a hand to stop him.


    These aren''t our enemies. Not yet.


    "Are you sure they''ll let us in?" An older teen talking to his mother. It''s a specter made out of blood and time, another species I don''t quite recognize. He looks a little bit like a spotted gecko, if I had to make a comparison. His mother''s hand rests on his back, and although she looks nervous, she doesn''t let it come through in her voice.


    "I''m sure they will," she says quietly. They''re waiting at the ruins of the guardpost¡ªand as I watch, more Firmament begins to rise from the dirt, and the building itself is reconstituted before our eyes. It''s made out of a reddish, translucent Firmament, just like the people in front of us.


    "Dad''s in there, right?" the teen asks. "Dad and the baby?"


    "Yes, little one." Her hand rubs the back of his head gently.


    The scene fasts forward. I have a sneaking suspicion I know what this is. There''s a certain poetic justice to it, and yet...


    "You don''t have approval," a guard tells her. He''s wearing a smirk on his face¡ªit''s clear he doesn''t actually care. I begin to walk closer, Ahkelios sitting on my shoulder and watching with a solemn look on his face; Guard and Naru follow me, the former with resolute steps and the latter with no small amount of uncertainty.


    "But you said the papers would be signed," the mother argues. There''s a note of desperation in her voice¡ªshe looks noticeably thinner than before, and her son isn''t there with her. I notice him leaning against the wall just outside of the guardpost, half-curled in on himself.


    "Naru''s a busy guy," the guard says with a shrug. "Can''t expect him to get your papers signed immediately."


    "What is this?" Naru hisses at me. I raise an eyebrow at him.


    "Haven''t you dealt with this Tear already?" I ask.


    "I do not have access to my notes," he growls. "I don''t remember dealing with it."


    "Obviously," I say.


    Guard''s already walking over to the guardsman''s desk. I''d had the same thought, but I let him rifle through the papers himself. This might be a Firmament simulation, but everything that''s here has undeniably happened. It might not be precise, though. I can feel the way Temporal Link chafes against the Tear, the way a multitude of different scenarios are condensed into one.


    This specific mother probably doesn''t exist. Neither does that specific child, or that specific guard. But a variation of this has happened often enough across loops¡ªacross Trials¡ªthat it''s been etched into time.


    The Tear is just repeating it. Taking the excess Temporal Firmament floating around and funneling it into the grooves of this particular scenario.


    Which is why I''m not surprised at all when Guard pulls out a set of papers that very distinctly resemble both the mother and her child, shoved into a corner of the desk and entirely unsubmitted.


    "We should kill them and get this Tear over with," Naru blusters defensively. I can feel him gathering Firmament.


    "Do that and I''ll kill you," I tell him calmly. Pointedly. Naru stares at me, taken aback by the threat¡ªI''ve yet to threaten him properly even once. Even when we were making our way here and Naru made some not-so-subtle remarks clearly meant to needle me, I took them with grace.


    But not now, not here, and especially not in front of all this. I''m not going to help Naru play into his delusions. He believes he isn''t responsible for all this. Even now, I can practically feel the gears in his mind turning, telling him that this isn''t his fault, that the guards didn''t submit the papers.


    He knows what''s going to happen next. What we''re going to see next. I bet it''s the whole reason this Tear keeps expanding¡ªbecause Naru keeps playing into it, following the narrative he''s previously created, killing all the blood specters the Tear spawns as if that''s the solution to the Tear.


    There''s only one problem.


    "Please," the mother tells the guard. "Just¡ªcheck on our papers, at least. Or tell my husband that we''re here. We can''t make the trip back to Nisi. We don''t have enough supplies."


    "Not my problem," the guard shrugs. "There are merchants on the outskirts. You can get some supplies from them."


    "We gave you all the money we had for the admittance fee!" the mother protests.


    Then I see a flash of a knife. I sense the movement of the Interface. I feel the Tear''s atmosphere become suddenly oppressive as the Firmament within it thickens into a slurry.


    Premonition flickers¡ªdull at first, then a blaze of warning. "Guard!" I bark. He realizes what''s happening the same time I do and darts to my side a second before I construct a Crystallized Barrier in front of all of us.


    Even with all that skill has grown¡ªeven with me pouring a third of my Firmament into it, even with me explicitly using the fight against the Seedmother to empower it¡ªit cracks against the force of a single knife.


    The mother stares at us, her eyes suddenly ablaze with Firmament.


    As I''ve said, there''s only one problem. I can feel it now through the power of my Temporal Link, through the connection it''s made with the Tear.


    Killing the blood specters is what it wants. Because the Trials are made not only to test us, but to warp us. Because if I play its game and close it, I etch its history further into time. It may not reappear in any of my loops, but it will for the next Trial set on Hestia. Or when I win, and the Trial ends.


    But I have a Truth, don''t I? One that''s baked into the second layer of my Firmament. I''ve refused to be defined in almost every other way so far, but in that belief I am unshaken.


    It''s worth being kind. Even when the logical, rational thing to do is to play the game. To slaughter the monsters, take my points, and ignore the blood I leave behind.


    I pledged back then to gain enough strength to choose kindness and mercy and still drag victory from the jaws of all the disadvantages that may grant me.


    Which means I''m going to have to find a way to do things my way.


    I''m going to close this Tear for good.

 164 — Book 3, Chapter 23 — A Crucial Question

    Back when we were still on the way to the Tear, Ahkelios asked me a question. It rings in my head even now.


    "Why do you care?"


    It''s an interesting question.


    ¡ª


    "Because I have to, I think," I answer. It''s not a perfect reply, but it''s the best one I can give.


    I know why he''s asking it. Ahkelios hasn''t said anything about it directly, nor has he allowed them to leak through our shared connection, but I know him well enough by now that I can sense the way his doubts have been ringing around in his head. Whatever happened in the Empty City, whatever it is that spoke to him¡ªit''s left an impact.


    How that impact was left on him is another question entirely.


    Ahkelios doesn''t seem satisfied with that answer. There''s a hint of frustration in the way he responds, something that almost verges on anger. He clenches his fists before forcing them to relax, worried that I''ll notice. "What''s that supposed to mean?" he asks, trying his best to control his voice.


    I glance at him, and he shifts uncomfortably under my gaze. Neither of us say anything, but something unspoken passes between us, and he looks away after a moment.


    I sigh. "Are you asking me about that last phase shift?"


    "The... second one. Yes. But not just that." He''s a little more hesitant now when he responds. Ahkelios is well aware of what drove me through that phase shift. Of the way I chose to shape my future. "I kind of understand, but I don''t understand why it matters so much to you."


    The words come back to me. They''re not hard to find¡ªthey''re written into my Firmament now, a promise I''ve made for the direction of my growth.


    To gain enough strength to define a future of my own. To make choices without allowing fear to define them. To choose kindness and mercy and compassion and weather all the risk that comes with them, because victory without them is not a victory I accept.


    Ahkelios wants to know why this matters so much to me, and he''s not the only one.


    Within me, the Knight stirs, suddenly interested in this conversation. I can feel it... resonating, almost. Like it agrees with the thought. There''s a shift within my soul where the Inspiration resides, and it''s suddenly a little more aligned, like something''s begun to click into place.


    But it wants to know more, just as Ahkelios does.


    Why does it matter indeed.


    I have an answer, but the memories that come with it aren''t the most pleasant ones. "I guess I''ve never really talked about it," I muse. I roll the thought around for a moment, then shake my head slightly. "I''m going to have to work through my thoughts on this, so bear with me."


    "Don''t I always?" Ahkelios tries to joke, flashing me a grin he doesn''t really feel. I snort dryly.


    "No need to pretend, ''Kelios," I say. He falls silent. "I''ve never put it into words before, but...


    "I think kindness is a choice." It takes me a second to find those words, but when I find them, I''m more certain than ever. "And it''s a choice you have to keep making. Just doing it whenever you feel like it doesn''t cut it. I used to think it was¡ªI figured I could just be nice when I was in the mood for it. As long as I''m nice more often than I''m not, what does it matter, right?"


    Ahkelios frowns, watching me for a moment. "Something happened?"


    "You could say that." I close my eyes briefly, feeling the wind on Hestia rush past me as we race toward Carusath and its Tear. "Yeah. Happened years ago, mind you. I don''t know how much of this will make sense to you, but there was an... altercation at my school. Kids bullying other kids¡ªnot exactly unusual. Normally I would''ve stepped in, done something, but I was having a bad day."


    Not that I remember why anymore. Funny how that works¡ªso many things seem minor in context. So many things I just don''t bother remembering.


    "Which was the one time it went wrong, of course." The memory''s distant enough now that I don''t keep kicking myself over it, but it makes me clench my teeth all the same. "Kid was pushed, hit his head on a corner of a table. I stepped in then, but it was obviously too late at that point."


    "Did he..." Ahkelios trails off mid-question.


    "Not for a long time," I say. "Hospital kept him alive for a while. But yes."


    There''s a pause there.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "I don''t understand," the mantis admits after a moment. "I mean, I guess that explains why you feel like you have to do something, but what about the rest of it? Why''d you let Whisper go?"


    I shoot Ahkelios a look. "What makes you think I let her go? She ran away."


    "You could''ve killed her before then," he says. "During the raid, even."


    "I could have, I suppose," I say. "While she was helping us hold the asteroid back. And if it went wrong, how many more would have died?"


    "And after?" he asks.


    I don''t answer for a moment. Truthfully, there''s a part of me that''s glad that Whisper ran before I could make that decision. I''m not sure what I would have chosen.


    "He forgave them," I say eventually. "The ones who hurt him. He made us make sure the school didn''t punish them too hard. Made me promise I wouldn''t try to hurt them. Not for what happened to him, anyway."


    "I don''t know if I could''ve kept that promise," Ahkelios says doubtfully. I snort in response.


    "Believe me, I almost didn''t," I mutter.


    "But you did?"


    "For the most part." The memories are strong even now. "One of them really did figure things out. He''s trying to become a doctor. We stay in contact. It''s hard to forget what he did, but he also saved my life at one point. I guess he felt like he owed me."


    "And the others?"


    "One''s just... living a normal life. Hate the thought of it, I won''t lie, but she''s not out there hurting anyone. Third one''s in jail, though."


    Ahkelios raises a brow. "You sound really happy about the third one."


    "Because I got to punch him." I grin a little. "I''m not a saint, ''Kelios. I don''t think I was supposed to enjoy it or anything. But he didn''t really get any better¡ªthe whole thing just kind of made him even more messed up. He crossed one too many lines, and I happened to be there, so..."


    I hit him hard enough to knock out a few teeth and stun him. It''s a good memory. But it''s not the memory that lingers the most¡ªit''s the first kid, the one who went out of his way to help me out when my life started falling apart.


    "The point is that people can change," I say. "I don''t advocate for mindless mercy and endless compassion. There are lines you can cross. But giving people a chance? It was important to my brother, so it''s always going to be important to me."


    Ahkelios doesn''t respond, and it takes me a second before I realize what I said.


    I wince. Admitting that part still hurts. I hadn''t known who it was at the time, but...


    "That''s what mercy is for you," Ahkelios says quietly. "A chance to change?"


    "Simple as that," I say with a nod.


    And the Knight grows warm within me.


    It''s heard my words, and it''s made a decision. Ahkelios gives me a startled look¡ªhe can feel the sudden change within me as much as I can¡ªbut I''m too focused on what''s happening within me to pay him much mind.


    The Knight... relates?


    No. It believes. It believes in the same thing I do, and more importantly, it''s now sure about the promise I made to it.


    I won''t abandon it. Not if it''s at all within my power. It''s not the kind of person I am. It knows now who I abandoned, who I failed, and it feels the conviction I do to never let it happen again.


    The Inspiration clicks into place, settling within my soul, and I feel the essence of my Firmament change.


    Not a lot. Just slightly. Just a faint, metallic tinge that empowers me. But it''s noticeable.


    And Ahkelios groans, burying his face in his hands. "Why can''t you just be a jerk," he mumbles, mostly to himself. Then he sighs. "Ethan, I need to tell you something. The thing about the Remnant in the Empty City. I think it¡ª"


    "Wants you to betray me?" I raise an eyebrow.


    The mantis grumbles, looking away. "I don''t think... I don''t think I should absorb it. I can feel the influence it has on me, Ethan. If I absorb it, I''m going to want to keep that power, and I''m going to want to stay independent."


    "And?" I ask. Ahkelios blinks at me.


    "Ethan, it wants me to betray you!"


    "I know." It''s not like I didn''t know that from the start, even if I didn''t know the specifics. "And I want you to have independence from me, Ahkelios. The Interface shouldn''t control you."


    "Neither should my past self!"


    "So don''t let it." I grin at him. "Come on. I''m pretty stubborn. Surely you''ve picked up some of that from me?"


    Ahkelios stares at me. "You cannot be serious."


    "Do you trust me?" I ask him.


    "I..." he says. And then he nods. "I mean, after this? It tried to tell me about how you don''t let me in or whatever. But you do. I just never asked. So... yes. I trust you."


    "Then trust me when I tell you that if you do let it turn you into a jerk, I''m going to beat it back out of you," I tell him, smirking at the aghast look he gives me. "Just like I trust you to stop me if I let the Trials corrupt me."


    That''s the reason I''m giving Whisper a chance, really. When it comes down to it, that''s the reason I''m giving Naru this chance as well¡ªthe reason I''m taking the time to figure out how he thinks, why he does what he does.


    Mercy means nothing if I don''t put in the effort to make it work. The Trials are built to corrupt their participants. To make them greedy, easily-controlled puppets for the Integrators.


    And I''m pitting myself against that machine. Turning myself into an agent of change. That''s why change is my Truth.


    Because I won''t let things stand the way they are.


    It''s strange. I don''t think I would''ve figured all this out if Ahkelios hadn''t forced me to put it into words. Now I know why I believe what I believe. This may have driven me before, but it''s not something I knew consciously.


    Now I do.


    "Naru is really going to test that belief of yours, though," Ahkelios says, injecting a lighter note into his voice.


    "Heh. You''re telling me." I glance at the crow, who is rather pointedly pretending the other three of us don''t exist. Good thing he can''t listen in on our conversation. "Well, this is just the first loop with him. We''ll see how it goes. I can''t say I''m expecting much, though."

 165 — Book 3, Chapter 24 — Compare and Contrast

    The dagger the mother threw at me clatters to the ground, useless; the barrier I called up dissipates back into raw Firmament. She stares at us, her eyes still burning Firmament, but the more I look at them the more I see them for what they really are.


    Cracks.


    Cracks that run from her eyes and down her face like glowing tears. She''s an echo of an echo¡ªan imprint left behind by countless copies of countless people put through the same tragedy over and over again¡ªbut that fact makes her no less real. The emotions that made her are all visible in the color of her Firmament.


    Red for blood and anger. Blue for misery and tragedy, swirled through her form. Powerful because she''s the culmination of so much that has happened, though still not beyond me.


    And yet for all that power... trapped.


    "Just let us through," the mother pleads. "Don''t make us do this."


    The cracks on her face bleed blue, trickling down to her neck. She''s following a script, not actually reacting to me.


    I respond anyway. I can''t help it.


    "I would if I could."


    She doesn''t¡ªcan''t¡ªhear me. It''s not me she''s pleading with. It''s the specter of a hundred different guards, each one denying her entry into the city with her family; it''s the specter of a hundred different guards that watched her starve. She looks at us like we are those guards, the ones stopping her from getting through. Even when I try to step aside, she turns to track me.


    The rules are clear. The Tear wants us to kill her.


    I wrack my mind¡ªhow do I change the outcome of all this? I could use my Talent, could try to Anchor a change... but now that I know what that power is and what it involves, trying it could very well kill me. I wouldn''t just be trying to change this situation, I''d be trying to change every time this has ever happened, across every single loop and Trial.


    That''s not an option for now. Not until I''m a lot stronger and more confident in my ability to Anchor, and that''s going to require more of Kauku''s teachings.


    Something else. Something different. What options do I¡ª


    "Ethan!" Ahkelios calls out, his voice panicked; I glance up just in time to see Naru launch himself toward the mother, and I bite back a curse. Idiot bird.


    He has to know as well as I do that the mother matches him in strength. If I had to guess, his past attempts at closing this Tear through the loops might not have worked at all; maybe that''s the reason it''s as big as it is. I open my mouth to yell at him to come back until we''ve worked out a plan, but he''s already locked in a fight with her.


    For a moment, at least. Then the mother lets out a low cry, picks him up, and tosses him, throwing him several feet away and making him crash into the guardpost with a squawk.


    I groan. The timing of it couldn''t be worse, either; shortly afterward the draconian man at the guardpost also turns toward us, his eyes glowing with the same Firmament I see in the mother''s. It''s not quite the same in presentation, though. The cracks grow along the ridges of his brows, bleeding angry crimson.


    "I''m not letting you through," he growls. "You lot are so entitled. You think you deserve to get in, what, because you have family in Carusath? So what? I''ve got family in Isthanok, and I''m here doing my job. You should''ve stayed where the Integrators put you."


    No point responding to him. Just like the mother, he looks straight past me. He also moves with enough speed to put a dent in the ground¡ªI doubt Naru''s actual guards are this strong, but this one''s being empowered by the Tear, more a concept of a guard than an actual guard.


    Premonition activates just in time to tell me the mother is attacking, too, two more daggers appearing in her hands. Too much going on, and Naru''s attacks are ineffectual. I need time to think.


    Crystallized Barrier. I form them along my forearms like a makeshift gauntlet, deflecting both of her intended blows and kicking her in the stomach just hard enough to push her back; she staggers, but not as far as I expected.


    No matter.


    Guard intercepts his border guard counterpart with a well-timed shoulder charge, knocking him off-course and stealing his attention. Ahkelios buzzes between the two of us, trying to decide what to do, who to help.


    "Check on the kid," I grunt at him. Ahkelios''s eyes widen, and he flies off.


    The kid in question still just leaning against the side of the guardpost, as far as I can tell. He''s curled up into himself, looking frailer and thinner than a child should ever have to look. I want to reach out to him, but I don''t have time; my attention is on defending myself against the mother, and on making sure Guard doesn''t die to... well, to the other guard.


    Naru, thankfully, doesn''t require any additional attention; he''s lying on the ground and bleeding from a stab wound, but it shouldn''t be fatal. He seems more stunned than anything.


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    Ahkelios can handle this. The problem isn''t that I can''t defeat these blood specters¡ªboth the guard and the mother are strong, but not so strong that I can''t beat them if I wanted to.


    It''s just that I don''t want to.


    The problem here is bigger than what the Tear wants me to think it is. So I''m relegated to defense, and my offense is stronger than my defense, unless¡ª


    Unless.


    I turn my focus inward. "Let''s take this together," I tell the Knight.


    The Inspiration stirs and responds. Approves.


    My previous attempts at using the Knight have always been painful. The transformation itself is one thing¡ªhaving my bones evert out and turn into armor is, in simple terms, among the worst pains I''ve ever experienced.


    But there''s an understanding between us now that''s more than what we''ve ever had before. Ever since that conversation with Ahkelios, ever since it learned more about who I am and the way I think, it trusts me.


    It''s not that the pain goes away. It doesn''t. But the Knight takes on its share of the pain, this time¡ªsuffers through it with me.


    And when we act, it''s with perfect synchronicity.


    The mother lunges at us again, a desperate, all-or-nothing attack; she throws everything she has into it, her daggers shining with cutting Firmament that would have torn through any of Naru''s real guards. In fact, I''m certain it would have torn through Naru himself. It deflects off my new armor harmlessly, though, the impact of my reinforced bones and the Inspiration turning it into little more than a glancing blow.


    The Knight and I lean down and draw her into a hug.


    She''s much smaller than I am with the Knight Inspiration running. I''m not exactly short even without it¡ªbut with it, she barely comes up to my chest. The hug is a little awkward, in part because she''s fighting against it and trying to cut through my armor, in part because I''m just not used to moving around in this body. I have claws I have to be careful to tuck away and more strength than I know what to do with.


    But eventually, her struggles slow. Her cries of anger and distress turn to quiet sobbing.


    "You can''t hear me," I say quietly. Not just me, in fact¡ªboth me and the Knight are speaking, our voices and intent folded together as one. "And you''re not real. Not really. But we''re going to fix this."


    "I just..." the mother starts¡ªthe Firmament fades away from her eyes, and this time, when she looks at me, I get the impression that she might actually be looking at me. That she''s speaking to me, and not just playing the role she''s been given in the Tear. "I just want it to end. I want us to stop suffering."


    There''s something different in her Firmament. This is...


    Her eyes are intelligent. She''s not looking past me. She is speaking to me. And now that I''m paying attention, there''s a small, subtle change in the Firmament around us, a fissure in which a tiny fraction of my power has been buried.


    "Knight," I start. "Did you¡ª"


    "Your strength is mine, as much as my strength is yours," the Knight responds calmly. "We cannot change all that has happened. But we can give her the power to see it and change it for herself."


    "I remember," the mother says quietly. Is ''mother'' the right word? Even as we speak, I see her form changing, becoming more nebulous¡ªbecause she isn''t just a mother. She''s everyone that''s ever been stopped from seeing their family at this guardpost. "Every time we weren''t allowed to go in. Every child that died. Every dead husband, every missing wife, every starving child."


    "Was this the right thing to do?" I ask the Knight. "Because remembering all this... it must be torture."


    "One must have their memories in order to truly anchor a change," the Knight responds. "Do you not feel as much when it comes to your little friend?"


    Ahkelios, huh?


    He isn''t wrong, I suppose.


    "We''re going to end it," I promise the mother quietly, though I''m not sure that''s the right descriptor anymore. I reach into my pocket. Naru''s approval papers are still there, and they''re technically signed to my name, but that doesn''t really matter when it comes to something like this.


    This Tear is largely symbolic. To break its routine, I need a symbol.


    "Here," I say, pressing the papers into her hand. I feel her fist closing around it, and she looks up at me; something hopeful and determined shines in her expression.


    I can feel the Tear protesting. The whole thing strains around us, the fabric of it beginning to buck and rock. I''m going too far off-script.


    Good.


    He-Who-Guards is still fighting the other guard, and a hug isn''t exactly going to stop him, but it''s the principle of the matter. The mother pulls away from me and stands, then takes several steps toward them; He-Who-Guards disengages as soon as he notices, hopping back several steps to join me.


    The guard stops.


    It''s almost surreal to see it. He takes the papers in a mechanical, jerky way, like he doesn''t want to but the script of the Tear is forcing him to. It has to follow the rules it''s established.


    Slowly, she begins to move to collect her child. Ahkelios is still talking quietly with him, though I don''t know what they''re talking about; whatever it is, though, it seems to work. The kid straightens, and he looks up toward his mother, reaching up for her hand¡ª


    And Premonition triggers. The Tear trembles, something within it ripping itself free. I can feel it being channeled through the guardpost. The entire structure rips itself free of the ground, the red Firmament it''s made of wavering and becoming something blackened and twisted. A malformed version of Temporal Firmament spiderwebs through it, and it melts together into a shape that''s only vaguely humanoid.


    I''m watching a monster form. The thought comes to me suddenly. This thing gives me the same impression as all the monsters I''ve fought¡ªthe Guilty Chimeras, Broken Horrors, the Elegies and Laments from the raid on the Cliffside Crows. Is this how they''re formed? One of the ways they''re formed?


    Either way, this thing is powerful.


    But it doesn''t target me. It doesn''t target the mother, nor her son, nor the guard. It doesn''t target Guard or Ahkelios.


    Instead, it launches a blade of pure, destructive Firmament straight at Naru¡ªone poised to cut straight through his core.

 166 — Book 3, Chapter 25 — Crumbling Truth

    Naru was sure he was going to die.


    He wasn''t even sure how he''d gotten into this situation. Why he''d gotten into this situation. Going back to the village and seeing his pare¡ªseeing Tarin and Mari, of all things? That was wildly out of character for him on its own.


    But then he''d run into the Trialgoer. Why the Trialgoer had even shown up in his old, dinky little village was beyond him, though he supposed he shouldn''t have been surprised. Of course Tarin had found a way to involve himself in the Trial. But to have the Trialgoer show up right then and there?


    And the old crow had somehow become part of the loop! That... that was unheard of. Wasn''t it?


    Naru didn''t exactly have a complete record of what happened across the Trials. He knew what the Integrators told him and whatever he was allowed to keep in his notes between them. That was about it. He knew, for example, that he''d been getting credits for his participation and help, although he was pretty sure there were diminishing returns as the Trials continued. He knew he''d done a number of odd jobs off-planet in return for a variety of trinkets he was allowed to keep.


    But he was pretty sure no one had uncovered a way to keep their memories across loops.


    Maybe if he saved enough credits, he''d find a skill that let him keep his memories, but the amount he was getting now was almost negligible. At this rate, it was going to take months for him to snag the next rank S skill.


    Not that he was ever going to get that opportunity.


    That blade was taking a long time to kill him.


    It was the worst part of his primary Reflex skill, he decided. Time of Your Life had looked so good when he selected it¡ªhis Integrator had nudged him toward it, told him exactly how it functioned.


    The more deadly an attack, the more the skill would speed up his mind and reflexes. An A-rank skill with the potential to give him near-infinite time to process and react to any given attack.


    It was an excellent skill on paper.


    In practice, it meant that when he was caught in a situation like this¡ªwith an attack coming too deadly for him to survive and too fast for him to dodge¡ªall he could do was stare at it and think.


    Ruminate.


    Reflect.


    No, he decided. If anyone had uncovered a way to keep their memories across the loops, he would have known about it, and Hestia''s time as a Trialgrounds would have ended a long time ago. Even if most of the Hestian Trialgoers were on board with the Integrators and their plan, there were a few that would be more than willing to help the Trialgoer just so their planet would be released from the loops.


    Which meant, what, that his father had managed to accomplish something that none of them had ever done? The thought of it was ridiculous. Even Teluwat, with his ability to manipulate Firmament with his words, couldn''t find a way to insert himself into the loops.


    Naru carefully ignored the fact that Teluwat was definitely the type of person that would hide the knowledge, even if he''d figured it out.


    But Tarin had?


    If Ethan was telling the truth, he hadn''t exactly done it on purpose. The only reason he was alive at all was because Ethan had gone out of his way to rescue him, and that rescue had somehow included him in the loop. Naru had no idea how to replicate that particular success.


    Not that it mattered. He was going to die.


    He didn''t even know how he felt about it.


    There were a lot of things Naru had fucked up in life, if he reflected back on it. It wasn''t something he liked to think about a lot, but he had plenty of time to do literally nothing but that right now.


    All the time in the world meant nothing when he didn''t have any Speed skills that could move him out of the way in time. It meant nothing when he didn''t have Durability skills that could tank the enormous blade of Firmament threatening to tear him apart.


    And all his Inspirations were focused on offense, more fool him. He could practically hear Tarin in the back of his head scolding him for his choices.


    He wondered where he would go when he was dead. Mari believed in the Light in the Sky, but after his exposure to the Integrators and Firmament, Naru wasn''t sure anymore that there was any such thing. The closest thing he''d ever encountered to a soul was his Firmament.


    Which meant his soul was about to get torn apart. It moved slowly, inexorably toward him. Ethan wouldn''t help him¡ªwhy would he?¡ªand even if he wanted to, the power of this thing was beyond anything he''d ever faced. He hadn''t even fought anything like this in his own Trials. Ethan was far stronger than he should have been, but...


    Naru snorted. The human would get some credits for his death. He was technically part of it, after all. Whatever idiotic thing he''d done to trigger this, he''d caused Naru''s death, in some small way; the Interface would reward him for it. Maybe he''d even planned it out this way, although Naru couldn''t imagine how Ethan could have planned it.


    No, wait. He could. It made perfect sense¡ªEthan had simply run the loops again and again, explored this particular Tear and figured out what made it tick. Fought it enough times to figure out how to trigger whatever this monstrosity was, and then coordinated things so that they''d agree to "fight together".


    Naru had to admit, it was a clever plan. Devious.


    It also meant Ethan definitely wouldn''t save him. He was probably strong enough to do it if he really wanted to, but Naru couldn''t even see where he was; he seemed to have disappeared after summoning some sort of... armored metal construct? He had no idea what kinds of abilities Ethan had. They all seemed ridiculous.


    Funny thing was, he was actually starting to like the human, which annoyed the hell out of him in his own way. Ethan was far too understanding for his own good. Naru wasn''t stupid¡ªhe was well aware they''d taken a break specifically for him when they were on their way to the Tear. He''d overstrained his Firmament trying to stay ahead. But Ethan and his companions had made an excuse for him. Saved him face.


    It was more than Tarin and Mari had ever done for him. Every time he made a mistake, every time he fucked up... right there on display for all the world to see.


    He wasn''t ready, they told him. They wouldn''t give him their Firmament because he was unprepared for that kind of power. Because he''d bullied some other, lesser crow, or something like that.


    And then he''d been pulled into the Trials.


    With none of the power he needed.


    If they''d just trusted him¡ªif they''d listened to his apologies, if they''d just let him have even a fraction of the power they''d promised him¡ªmaybe his Trial wouldn''t have been such a nightmare. Maybe he wouldn''t have had to spend the entire first floor of the tower being pushed around by people taking advantage of him.


    He had to claw and fight his way to every single advantage he had. He had to take the dirty route¡ªkill people when they were already weak and starving, to make sure he got the credits he needed to grow stronger. If he''d just had the power to begin with, maybe he wouldn''t have had to.


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    Whose fault was it really, that he''d turned out like this?


    Naru knew what they all thought of him. Tarin and Mari thought of him as a disappointment. Even the other Trialgoers considered him a weakling¡ªhe''d come out of the Trials with the least progress in his Firmament and only a handful of powerful skills to his name. His Inspirations were still strong enough that he could go toe-to-toe with them for a short while if he absolutely had to, but he was by far the weakest of them all, and he hated it.


    Stronger than everyone else, though. Stronger than Tarin and Mari. Strong enough that he could''ve taken over the village by force, if he''d wanted to¡ªmake it a part of the Great Cities.


    He didn''t want to. Part of him wanted to... try. To fit in again.


    And then he''d tried to save a crow, and the force of his strength had utterly crushed that crow against the cliff.


    And Tarin and Mari had demanded he learn to control himself.


    Part of him knew that it was a reasonable demand. They hadn''t even blamed him for the death¡ªnot as much as they could have. They''d held a funeral for the crow that died, and explained to him that the amount of power he had was as much a curse as it was a blessing; he needed to learn to control it so he wouldn''t hurt anyone else...


    But all Naru heard was the same criticisms he''d heard all his life.


    Control this. Learn to do that. Fit in with everyone else and follow the rules he was now clearly above. It hadn''t been like that back in his Trial¡ªonce he was strong enough, people listened to him. He made the rules.


    So he left. Carusath was the perfect place for him. The Great City respected strength above all¡ªnot strength of wit and cunning, not strength of strategy, but raw, destructive strength. The Integrators had offered rule of it to him, and all he needed to do was step up and claim it.


    On the first day, he proved himself. Crushed every single one of the draconians that would have disobeyed him, that tried to challenge his rule. They became his guards, the ruling caste of the city.


    And the rest of it, he just... didn''t care. What did it matter? He''d proved himself right, and his parents wrong: he could rule without any of their rules. Carusath was fine.


    Except Ethan had proved it wasn''t.


    Naru knew, on some level, that he wasn''t aware of everything going on in his city. Of course he wasn''t¡ªhe couldn''t be. No leader could be apprised of everything that happened at every moment, except maybe someone like She-Who-Whispers, and she was an exception and a perfectionist of a sort that scared even him. But he hadn''t known how bad it had gotten.


    Was that true? He stared at the blade coming for him.


    No. It wasn''t.


    Some part of him had known. But the bureaucracy was an insulating layer for him. He didn''t need to deal with all the people that wanted to enter or leave Carusath; he would''ve preferred not to deal with it at all. All the "paperwork" he dealt with? More or less just requests handed to him by the draconians for infrastructure and projects he didn''t really care about.


    There were fights out in the streets every day. Ethan had even pointed them out. Naru vaguely recalled something about a cleanup crew that worked to clean up messes that resulted from those fights...


    And then there was all of this.


    If he was alone in the Tear, Naru knew what he would''ve done. They were all largely combat-oriented challenges. He would''ve killed the mother and her son as soon as they appeared¡ªthey were just Firmament ghosts, anyway, they didn''t count as people¡ªand then the guard, too, The Tear would have closed and he would have been granted somewhere between ten to fifty credits, spread across the stat categories, depending on how he performed.


    That wasn''t what Ethan had done, which surprised him. These were just specters. What did it matter?


    Why did Ethan help the mother? Why did watching her make him feel that terrible, twisting sensation in his gut?


    That was why he''d attacked¡ªto shut her up. He didn''t want to think about it. Didn''t want to think about everything that had been happening under his nose. Didn''t want to think about the relief in the eyes of the remarkably similar-looking mother and child he''d signed the papers of back in the real guardpost, at the real station, when Ethan made him sign those stupid papers.


    Then she''d whipped him away with more force than she should have been capable of, dagger buried in his stomach.


    When did he become so weak? Had he always been?


    The light in front of him grew brighter. His Reflex skill wouldn''t last much longer. This thing would tear through him and his Firmament, and not even the twisted nature of Hestia''s time would be able to bring him back. It needed something to work with, after all.


    Naru closed his eyes.


    And the light... stopped.


    So did his skill.


    He opened them again. The metal creature Ethan had summoned stood in front of him, holding the deadly blade of Firmament in¡ªin a single hand. What was... when did...


    "What?" he croaked out loud. His voice was hoarser than he imagined. Ethan''s summon had saved him. How did it even¡ªhow was it holding that thing? That thing would''ve killed even Versa. Even some of the stronger Trialgoers, if he had to guess. The raw Firmament pouring out of it, the way it twisted everything around it, the feeling it gave him deep inside his core, like he was hopelessly outmatched...


    The same feeling he''d had when his Firmament touched Ethan''s. The feeling he told himself he''d imagined.


    The creature spoke. "You okay?" Ethan asked.


    That was Ethan?


    "Why would you..." Naru felt the question die as he asked. Had he not been lying about not just... killing everyone for points? Did he actually save people? Had he actually saved Tarin?


    If he had, then how was he this strong?


    The metal creature¡ªEthan¡ªrolled his eyes, or at least gave off the impression of it. Naru couldn''t see much more than a flicker of golden-blue light in the helmet''s eye-slits, but he still felt the disdain.


    "You''re an asshole," Ethan told him bluntly. "But one, you''re under my protection."


    He threw the blade of Firmament to the side. Discarded it. Like it wasn''t a weapon that could kill Trialgoers.


    "Two," Ethan said. "I think, as much as they pretend otherwise, Tarin and Mari would miss you."


    Naru felt a pang. Would they? They hated him. He hated them.


    But he''d gone to them when he didn''t know what to do. Because he knew, in some way, that if he really needed the help, they would give it to him. Oh, they would give him all kinds of shit for it, but it wouldn''t stop them from helping him.


    Naru was a proud crow, but he wasn''t so proud he couldn''t admit something as basic as that. Not after watching all his preconceptions get torn down like this.


    Ethan bent down. Naru felt a surge of Firmament that pushed all the way down into the third layer¡ªthird. That was... if skills didn''t come into play, Ethan would crush almost all the Trialgoers except maybe the top two. And that wasn''t taking into account whatever this transformation was.


    Ethan held out his hand.


    "Three," he said. "I make sure everyone gets a second chance. The Trials are built to change you into someone the Integrators can control. You can decide otherwise. But you''re gonna have to make that choice, not me."


    Naru stared.


    He took Ethan''s hand. Got to his feet, slowly. The monster behind Ethan seemed barely real. Not in front of the human whose presence cracked the Firmament around him.


    "I''m not in the loops," Naru said. "I''m not going to remember this. Even if I want to, I..."


    His voice trailed off. Did he want to? He''d always said he didn''t want to fight the Integrators. That it was impossible.


    It didn''t feel impossible anymore. This felt impossible. Maybe his calibration of what was impossible had always been off.


    "I know," Ethan said. The monster behind him roared, and Ethan glanced up. "I have to deal with this first. Don''t die."


    "I won''t," Naru said numbly. He didn''t even know if it was true.


    He stared at the blade of Firmament still on the ground. The blade strong enough to cut into his core.


    Tarin remembered the loops because a fragment of Ethan''s Interface had gotten stuck in his core, if he understood the story correctly.


    Naru knew two things.


    One, if he remembered the loops, he would be an outcast again. This wasn''t something that could be repeated. The other Trialgoers would despise him, despite this being something that they''d been trying to do themselves. The Integrators would never trust him or any of the other Hestian Trialgoers that managed to do this. The loops were part of how they were controlled.


    Two, if he let himself forget this, he''d never be anything more than what he was now.


    And in front of Ethan, all he was now felt so... petty. Empty.


    Naru walked over and picked up the blade. He had no idea what he was about to do.


    But he also couldn''t remember the last time he''d ever wanted anything as much as this. The last time he''d wanted to change. The last time he''d cared.


    No. He did.


    When he was a child, he remembered telling Tarin and Mari he wanted to make all the crows in their village as happy as could be. He remembered the smiles they''d given him¡ªbright and warm and unconditional. He remembered the small party they''d had, with only two or three friends, and how at that time in his life it felt like the biggest and most important thing he''d ever been a part of.


    He stared at the Firmament blade in his hands. Slowly, his grip tightened.


    He''d carve this damn memory into his soul if he had to.

 167 — Book 3, Chapter 26 — A Stitch in Time

    My mind is still whirling, but I don''t have the time to dissect exactly what it is I''m looking at¡ªnot when it''s full of corrupted Temporal Firmament and powerful enough to completely erase any person it kills. Best as I can tell, it''s a literal manifestation of the Tear, a collection of all the fear and anger that created it in the first place coalescing into a creature intent on killing.


    No surprise that it targeted Naru first, considering he''s responsible for all of Carusath.


    More to the point, if this is one of the ways the Trial''s so-called monsters are created...


    I think back to all the times Temporal Link and its variants have allowed me to connect with a monster. To the glimpses I catch of past moments every time I do. I haven''t tried doing that for a long while, and part of me now dreads what I might find when I do¡ªthese Tears are collections of tragedy, misfortune, and poor circumstance. It''s no wonder every memory I''ve seen has ended badly.


    Now''s not the time to linger on those thoughts, though. Now''s the time to figure out what to do and how to fight this. I feel the Knight''s presence pulse within my core, a silent and subtle assurance of support. It pulls my Firmament into an amplified version of Quicken Mind that guides my thoughts on the rails of its experiences.


    Assess. What are my immediate concerns?


    Naru''s safe for now. I can''t tell what he''s doing back there, but I can''t afford to care¡ªPremonition doesn''t so much as tingle in his direction, and that''ll have to be good enough for now.


    Guard is standing by, his systems on full alert. I can hear the quiet hum of his engines as he analyzes the situation, but for the most part, he''s waiting for my direction. Good.


    The mother and her child, on the other hand...


    The Tear''s trying to reclaim them.


    They''re a part of it, technically. Specters of Firmament that were created for the express purpose of fulfilling a role. And yet they''re more than that¡ªor the mother is, at the very least. The change we Anchored into her makes her independent enough to understand and strong enough to fight, and she''s fighting with everything she has.


    Protecting her son.


    "You will not take us," she says through gritted teeth. "This... must... end."


    No more suffering. I can hear the song of that determination in her Firmament. She clutches her son close, holding him like he''s all she has left. Their Firmament wavers like a candle in the wind, small flecks flaking off and tearing away.


    But then Ahkelios is there, flitting between them, reinforcing their Firmament. He catches those stray wisps by drawing on Firmament Control, binding it back with them, keeping them whole.


    "Any time now, Ethan!" Ahkelios yells. "We can''t keep this up forever!"


    "I know!"


    There''s one last important factor here¡ªone final thing to take into consideration.


    The monster isn''t complete yet.


    It''s powerful. It''s almost too powerful¡ªthe amount of Firmament it controls is far beyond the supposed difficulty of the Tear. That doesn''t mean it''s too powerful for me, but it''s strong enough that it''s dangerous. I can''t afford to make mistakes.


    I flex my claws briefly, feeling a flare of pain lance down my arm. Even with the upgrade from my newly-indestructible bones, that thing burned. It ate halfway into my palm before I managed to muster enough Firmament to stop it, and that was with Amplification Gauntlet boosting it.


    Even now, the effort the Knight and I expended just on that defense spreads through us like an ache, a warning that we won''t be able to defend against those hits indefinitely. Two or three more at most before our Firmament is exhausted and we''re forced to split again, by my estimation.


    The good news is that they''re not something it can fire off at will either. It looks just as exhausted by the strength of its own attack. It sways slightly, slowly, ponderously forcing itself back into an upright position, the chaotic turmoil of its Firmament briefly settling as it recovers.


    That''s the only reason it hasn''t followed up yet. It''s taking time to recharge, to draw on every scrap of Firmament it can from the Tear.


    It''s why it''s trying so hard to reclaim the two stubborn beings of Firmament that refuse to rejoin it. It needs them to be complete. To become whole.


    I can''t let that happen. Allowing this monster with the ability to erase people from the loop to coalesce right next to a populated city would be nothing less than catastrophic.


    More importantly, though? That tells me what its weakness is.


    "Guard," I say. "Can you make sure the perimeter is safe? I don''t want any stray shots getting into Carusath."


    "Of course." Guard nods at me, Firmament flickering in his core. I can see his concern, but he''s already moving into place. "Be careful, Ethan."


    "I will."


    Amplification Gauntlet. Crystallized Strength.


    The problem with this monster is that it''s enormous, and without it being fully formed yet, it''s not obvious where to hit it. The more I try to figure that out, the more confusing it is¡ªI see glimpses of tails and tendrils half-present in the Firmament around it, a cloud of possibility still trying to decide what it''s supposed to be.


    But if I know that it needs to make itself whole, then I have a target.


    I launch myself up. For the first time since we''ve fully aligned ourselves, I call on Firmament Control and push the skill through the Knight Inspiration. The character of the skill changes¡ªwhere it would normally let me control Firmament at a distance, it now becomes a part of my armor.


    More importantly, at least for me, the Firmament in front of us becomes something solid. Something real.


    Something we can tear into.


    My claws latch into the half-formed monster. It reacts, trying to throw me off, but before it can, I call up a second Amplified Gauntlet that transforms my other arm. Both sets of claws dig into its not-quite-flesh, and I feel the threads of Firmament Control digging itself into its body. Enhanced like this, I don''t have particularly great control of any Firmament I''m not in contact with.


    Once I am in contact with it, though? That''s a different story.


    I pull.


    I combine the force of my will with that of the Knight, and although the monster does everything it can to resist, it''s not enough. Not when the skill is Inspired like this and enhanced by the sheer force we''re pouring into it. We can''t reshape the entire thing at will, but we can take full control over a massive chunk of it¡ª


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ¡ªthe monster roars again in resistance, trying to throw us off, asserting everything it can of itself against us¡ª


    ¡ªbut it''s no use, and we


    rip


    it


    out.


    <hr>


    Temporal Link activates. It''s a subconscious activation more than it is an intentional one¡ªeither that, or it''s the Knight reaching out through me and using the skill in my stead. A tether snaps into place between my core and the chunk of Firmament we just tore free, and a vision slams into me, overtaking my senses.


    "I just need to see my son." An older man stands at the guardpost. He clutches tightly at his staff, and though he doesn''t say it, I can see how weary he is. I can feel it, too. I can feel the ways his knees creak with age and overuse, can taste the curve of his thoughts.


    He''s been hiking for miles to get here. His stomach is emptier than it should be. There are a dozen unspoken ailments, a dozen fears and hopes.


    His words are kind, though. His voice is gentle. He doesn''t push. He''s seen too many people get turned away from the guardpost already. He hopes that his approach will make all the difference. He hopes that waiting for the next shift will bring him a new guard more sympathetic to his cause.


    To his credit, the draconian guard does seem to be. "Was he transported here before the Trial, sir?" he asks. "Do you have his name?"


    "Hykari Solva," the older man states. The guard nods at him, retreats into the back to find some papers¡ªthere''s some quiet shuffling, the sound of a drawer being opened, and then a loud thunk of metal. The man''s heart sinks; he knows what this means, knows what the results will be before the guard even returns.


    "I''m sorry, sir," the draconian says when he emerges. There is, notably, a partial dent in his helmet and a hint of frustration in his eyes. "I can''t find any of his records. Maybe come back tomorrow?"


    "I will try again tomorrow," the older man says.


    But he knows he will not. He has tried for long enough, and he has seen the fate of others who wait. Better to try to sneak past and make it in himself, as futile as it might be.


    He almost makes it, too. Just a step away, hope rising in his heart.


    And then he ends.


    <hr>


    It''s bleeding. The monster roars in pain and swipes at me, more to force me away than anything else; a light hop back takes me out of range. It staggers to its feet, weaker but not yet dead. A waterfall of liquid Firmament¡ªmore than should be possible¡ªpours from the new, jagged wound that leads from its shoulder down to its stomach.


    I''m not entirely sure what I just witnessed. A memory? Or a past event, more accurately. One of many that must have come together to form this Tear. The emotion of it all still clings to me like a cobweb, and I struggle to shake it off.


    It''s not the first time I''ve connected with an echo of the past like this. It''s always been involuntary¡ªglimpses of events I can neither control nor change. A part of me takes a moment to grieve. Another part of me wonders: if Temporal Link allows me to view the past, even in a limited way such as this...


    The monster steals my attention again before I can complete the thought.


    Wounded or not¡ªweaker or not¡ªit''s no less deadly. I feel the sharp spike in Firmament that indicates it''s attacking before I see it, and this time, it spins, trying to throw its death-scythe through the weakened barrier of the Tear and into Carusath.


    Not just a single scythe, either. There''s one blazingly powerful blade, and then a dozen or so lesser ones. I Warpstep in front of the biggest one and grab hold of it with Amplified Gauntlet, gritting my teeth at the pain and flinging it into the ground. Guard is in the background dealing with the others, blasting them away with Firmament or constructing a shield to stop them.


    I see a brief flicker from him, a half-formed circuit of Firmament in the air before he lets out a low curse and stops, but I don''t have time to spare to see what he''s trying to do. I''ll have to trust him to take care of the rest.


    I charge at the monster again, launching myself into the other shoulder and tearing away another chunk of Firmament.


    This time, I''m prepared for the activation of Temporal Link. I try to guide it¡ªto search in a sea of past moments for something that might be able to help. Something I can use.


    And it works. I snag on something familiar. I''m almost immediately aware, as the vision begins, that the person I''m witnessing isn''t just a civilian trying to get into Carusath.


    It''s a Trialgoer. Not a Hestian Trialgoer, but someone that went through this specific Trial and lost.


    Someone like Ahkelios.


    <hr>


    "You need to let them in," a younger girl says. I can''t pinpoint her exact age, but from the feeling I''m getting in the vision, she can''t be more than twenty. I glimpse wings, the edge of a familiar face; it takes me a second to remember. It''s been a while.


    This is the harpy. The same harpy that raided the crow village back in my very first loops, only here, she''s completely different. There''s none of the sadism I witnessed in her Remnants, none of the cruelty, and certainly none of the desire for destruction. She''s actually trying to help them.


    "We already told you, ma''am, they can enter once Naru signs their papers," the guard on duty responds. He sounds bored.


    "Except Naru''s never going to sign their papers, because you haven''t even submitted them." Her response is confident¡ªshe''s been through this before. How many loops, now? She walks past the guard, sidestepping easily when he tries to stop her, then ducking under his next attempt at a grab, then hopping over his low sweep of a kick. She pulls open a drawer, retrieves a sheaf of papers, and flourishes them. "See? Never even submitted."


    I wince. She''s trying too hard to prove her point. I''m not sure what her greater goal is or if she has one, but I already know what''s coming.


    She looks surprised, somehow, when the spear tears through her chest.


    <hr>


    The vision fades before I can grasp at more. Part of me is frustrated¡ªa few moments more and I would have been able to figure out more about her Trial, about her loops, maybe something about where her Trial ended. But it''s a proof of concept, if nothing else; Temporal Link might be even more valuable than I thought.


    I wonder what Gheraa sacrificed to give it to me.


    An angry roar draws my attention, but the monster is weaker than ever now. Its grasp on its Firmament is weak, and even its attempts to reintegrate the shades of the mother and her child are now easily defended against. It tries to fight still¡ªfires off one last attack, a scattershot blow at everything and everyone around us¡ªbut I cut through the most powerful ones and Guard defends the city from the rest. The final few smash uselessly into the dirt.


    And with the last of its energy spent, I can reach down and just... tear its head off. Unravel it with Firmament Control.


    The final vision is smaller than all the others. There''s not much left for me to find¡ªtoo much ripped away, too much fading with the Tear. I watch it anyway.


    <hr>


    "Ma, do you think we''ll ever see da again?"


    "Of course we will."


    There''s an aching hunger in them both. Not nearly enough food. There are fed and healthy guards nearby that make it a point to never look in their direction, make it a point not to care.


    "Little one... we''re going to run for it. Understand?"


    "I thought we had to wait for the papers, ma."


    "I thought we did too." She hugs her son close. "I''m going to hold you, okay? Don''t look up, whatever you do."


    "Okay, ma."


    They run, desperate footsteps across the soil. The mother glances behind herself¡ªit doesn''t take long for one of the guards to take notice and give chase. There''s an angry shout¡ª


    ¡ªa sudden crash¡ª


    ¡ªand, to my surprise, a crow that intercepts the spear meant for their hearts.


    "Not these ones," Naru says. There''s an odd note in his voice. A mixture of uncertainty and anger. I don''t think he fully understands why he''s doing this, why he''s putting himself in the line of fire for people he considers trespassers.


    But I do.


    It''s a start.


    ¡ª


    I know it''s dead before I even see the body, thanks to the Interface. I dismiss the notification¡ªI''ll take a look at it later.


    More importantly, the Tear is slowly fading away. The mother takes her child by the hand and slowly walks toward the border of Carusath. It might be symbolic, but I can feel the relief in the Firmament all around us.


    "Thank you," she says, just before she steps over the border. "For ending the cycle."


    The approval papers I gifted her flutter to the ground. She and her son both slowly begin to fade, and I can feel their Firmament... for lack of a better word, it''s repairing the Tear. Pouring into the cracks of time and helping it heal.


    It''ll take time, but this Tear won''t be a problem in the future. I lean down to pick up the papers and pocket them.


    "Uh... Ethan?" Ahkelios''s tone of voice tells me there''s a problem. I grimace and turn around to find both Ahkelios and Guard hovering around a very unconscious, very lifeless-looking Naru.


    "Oh, come on," I mutter. I rush to his side, momentarily worried that one of the stray blades struck him, but a closer inspection tells me that this is self-inflicted. The dissolving Firmament blade in his hands, the rough, jagged shape of a symbol cut into his core...


    I sigh, letting the Knight dissolve away from my form.


    The symbol is the same one that Interface uses to represent the Cliffside Crows in its map. It''s a reminder to himself, I suppose. But Naru must have known that he isn''t coming back from this kind of damage without assistance¡ªhe put himself in a coma.


    Which means he''s essentially trusting me to get him out.


    "Idiot bird," I mutter, and get to work.

 168 — Book 3, Chapter 27 — Seeds of Change

    It''s a testament to how much my skill with Firmament has grown that I don''t need to go searching for some obscure herb in order to help heal Naru, though the parallels obviously aren''t perfect. For one thing, the Interface isn''t trying to actively destroy Naru''s core¡ªthat factor was a big part of what kept Tarin in a coma and prevented him from healing.


    With Naru, it''s different. There''s nothing trying to actively erode his core. In fact, if this were anyone else, I''m certain that healing them would be a patch job with Firmament Control that would take no more than a couple of minutes.


    Except there''s a problem.


    Just about everyone I''ve encountered so far has a Firmament core that heals itself naturally. It''s not something I''ve paid much attention to¡ªdamage to a Firmament core is typically either so extreme that it can''t heal itself or so minor that it heals itself quickly, with very little in-between¡ªbut the general rule is that given enough time, any individual''s core can usually recover on its own.


    Naru''s isn''t. There''s no indication that it''s even beginning to heal. Where I''d normally see Firmament flowing and beginning to repair the cracks, there''s just... nothing. No movement, no life.


    From the wear and tear on his core, he''s been damaged like this for a very, very long time.


    I keep my Firmament sense on him just in case there''s something obvious I''m missing, but the more I observe, the clearer it is. His core is broken in some way, not from the self-inflicted carving but from something else. I look deeper, pushing past the layers of his Firmament, from the anchored layers to the unanchored ones¡ªhe''s a first-layer practitioner, so everything past the first layer is only vaguely defined.


    And then I see it.


    There''s a spiderweb of cracks running through the very foundations of his Firmament. I trace the pattern, and it only takes me a few seconds more to identify exactly what they are and where they''re from.


    "It''s the Interface," I mutter, disbelieving.


    Ahkelios has been hovering over Naru, and my words make him look back up at me, a concerned furrow in his brow. "What do you mean?"


    "Naru''s Firmament core. It''s damaged, and not just from... that." I nod toward the most-dissolved blade of Firmament still partially clutched in his fist. "It''s like the Interface is rooted into his core and cracking it from the inside. He can''t heal normally."


    The little mantis blinks. "You''re sure?" he asks. "What does that mean? Does that happen to everyone who joins the Trials?"


    "I don''t know," I answer honestly. A quick check of my own core reveals no signs of anything like this, to my relief¡ªthe Interface''s connection with me is mutualistic, a two-way connection rather than something eating into my core. Whisper''s remarks before she disappeared indicated that she could heal, given time.


    Not enough data. It''s possible Whisper is wrong, or that she has her own methods of healing. It''s possible this only happens after a Trial is completed, so as to permanently stunt the growth of a Trialgoer. It''s what the Integrators want, isn''t it?


    Control.


    And they don''t even know what they want that control for. They have no idea what the purpose of the Interface is. Someone else is pulling the strings: I''m more certain of that than ever.


    "Can you fix him?" Ahkelios asks; he sounds more worried than I''d expected, all things considered. I glance down at Naru, placing my hand on his chest and feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm.


    It''s not the heart I''m looking for, though. That''s where his core is, and while the Firmament within it is static and lifeless, it isn''t gone. It''s not like he''s dead; he''s just unconscious.


    Without him to exert conscious control over his Firmament, my skills let me take control of it easily. I can take control of it, weave his wounds shut. I just don''t know if that''ll be enough. Closing the wounds is one thing, but if his core isn''t naturally healing...


    "Yes," I say finally. "Or I mean, I think I can at least stabilize him. I''m going to have to do more than that to get him to wake up, and that''s going to take a while."


    "We should not do that here," He-Who-Guards finally speaks up. There''s an edge of caution in his voice. "Stabilize him quickly. We must leave."


    I glance back at him, noticing that he''s intentionally positioned himself between us and the guardpost; with a grimace, I realize what he''s worried about.


    "We probably shouldn''t let his guards see him like this, huh?"


    "There''s no telling how they will react," Guard agrees. "I can carry him if needed."


    I hesitate. There isn''t exactly anywhere safe to bring Naru¡ªI can''t exactly bring him into Carusath and claim he just fell unconscious while we were on a mission together, and I don''t really trust his guards in the first place. Isthanok is viable, but it''s also the home of a slow uprising against Trialgoer control. Who knows what bringing Naru there could result in.


    There''s only one place I''d completely trust, counterintuitive as it is.


    The Cliffside Crows, as labeled in the map. Back with Tarin and Mari.


    I work quickly and quietly to stabilize Naru. It doesn''t take long at all¡ªonly a minute or two of Firmament Control to force the scars to close and stop Naru from bleeding Firmament. A patch job, but more than enough to hold steady.


    Not enough to fix him. And I realize that, as far as I''ve come, for something like this¡ªfor a Firmament core that''s not only damaged but fundamentally broken¡ªI don''t yet have the knowledge I need to fix it. Anything I try is just as liable to do permanent harm as it is to fix him, and as much as I''d like to just experiment...


    I sigh. There''s at least one other option. All roads lead to the Empty City, I suppose.


    Ritual stages reveal more about your connection with your Firmament. I''ve completed one of the Ritual stages. I don''t feel any different, and yet... I''m learning more than I ever did about Firmament. The patterns I''ve noticed in skills, for example. The memories I can extract with Temporal Link.


    "Interface," I say out loud. "Have I received my reward for the first stage of the Ritual, in terms of understanding my connection with my Firmament?"


    [Reward has not yet been delivered.]


    I blink, surprised at the immediate response. The Interface hasn''t been so quick to reply in a long time. I''m at least a little relieved, too; I don''t like the idea that the Interface might have had something to do with my discoveries.


    But more importantly...


    "When am I going to get it?" I ask.


    [Completion of the second stage of the Ritual will trigger the first Revelation.]


    Revelation? That''s a new term. I frown.


    "Does that have anything to do with Firmament cores?"


    [Information on Revelations is restricted until your first Revelation. However, information on Firmament cores can be included in your reward.]


    "For... free?" I ask, staring at the Interface suspiciously. There''s a longer pause than usual before it responds.


    [That is correct.]


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ...I don''t trust that at all, somehow. I shouldn''t complain, I suppose, but something about how it''s responding bothers me. Ahkelios watches me curiously, and I shake my head.


    "Let''s get him back to Tarin and Mari," I say, looking between Guard and Ahkelios. "We''ll figure out the rest there."


    For all their bluster, it''s the one place I''m sure Naru will be safe.


    And after that, one way or another, it''s time to head back to the Empty City.


    <hr>


    Rhoran marveled at the design of the Ritual. It was so simple, and yet so complex¡ªthe way the Interface wound itself into the root of a practitioner''s corpse and incorporated itself into a living story... it was the perfect nesting grounds for someone like him.


    Not for an Integrator, though. Not at all. Rhoran had the feeling that if he''d still been an Integrator, being here would''ve been anathema to him. Most Integrators avoided dungeons as a whole on principle. Under control of the Interface or not, they always felt wrong, for lack of a better word. Being inside a dungeon felt like walking inside your own corpse, whether it was generated by an Integrator death or not.


    But he wasn''t an Integrator right now, was he? He was a parasite. A consciousness that could live inside Firmament itself, eating away at it from within until it belonged to him. Until it was him.


    For him, a corpse like this was nutrition. It was food. He could feel himself expanding as he poured himself into the dungeon¡ªit didn''t matter that it was too big for him to ever control, didn''t matter that he couldn''t take it over entirely. He didn''t need to.


    That was the best part of Gheraa''s little Trialgoer and his Trial. His challenges were all filtered through the lens of Hestia''s Heart, and Hestia was the planet of Time. He didn''t need to make big, sweeping changes. He just needed to make little ones. Absorb the memories here, let himself grow, and find just the right place to make just the right change. Cause a cascade that would make completing the Ritual impossible and generate a threat so enormous that Ethan would have no choice but to fail against it again and again.


    Rhoran couldn''t wait to see the human give up.


    The dungeon had conveniently given him nothing but time. The seed he was in offered him a perfect snapshot of the next stage of the Ritual. He could see Ethan''s path laid out in front of him¡ªeverything he was about to encounter down to the role he was supposed to play in the living history of the Empty City.


    Now all he had to do was find the right place to make a little change.


    <hr>


    "Ethan! What happen?" Tarin asks. He looks stricken when we arrive back at the village with Naru in Guard''s arms, though he doesn''t seem to entirely trust that his son is actually hurt. He keeps lifting one of Naru''s hands and positioning it above his face, then letting it fall. It''s only after Naru hits himself in the face three times that he accepts that the guy is actually in a coma.


    I''m still not sure if I should have just watched him do that. Neither Ahkelios nor Guard seemed inclined to stop him.


    "I''m not sure you''re going to believe me when I tell you," I say. The idea that Naru wants to change is bizarre. I''m not sure I believe it, and I was there. Still, it''s hard to deny when the evidence of it is quite literally carved into his core.


    In a way, I suppose it''s not that much of a surprise. I saw his hesitation at the guardpost and watched a memory of at least one of the families he spared. I don''t know if they''re the only ones he spared, but nevertheless, it paints a picture of conflict. Uncertainty.


    Tarin stares at me suspiciously. "You tell," he says.


    So I do.


    Tarin doesn''t seem to know what to say for most of the story. It''s not like I''m privy to Naru''s thoughts¡ªI don''t know if it was sitting in front of hopeful travelers and signing their papers that caused it or if he came to some realization in the process of me saving his life. I have no idea what led him to think carving his own core was the solution to any of this.


    But Tarin seems to recognize the gesture. He taps on one of his wings, his expression warring between anger, worry, and reluctant admiration.


    "It crow ritual," he explains after a moment. "For repentance. But not done like that. We use Firmament! Not knife." He demonstrates with a slash of a wing that leaves an imprint of Firmament on a nearby rock¡ªa marking, not a carving. "You stay here. I talk to Mari."


    I raise an eyebrow. He doesn''t want me there? That''s... fair, I suppose. This version of Mari doesn''t have as much reason to trust me, and I''m guessing it''ll be easier to have the conversation without me there.


    It still stings. Just a little.


    Tarin returns after a solid half-hour of discussion, during which I focus my efforts on keeping Naru stable. It''s not difficult¡ªeven without healing, his core isn''t really deteriorating much from just lying around. The real problem is the crowding of the rest of the villagers around us. Guard keeps them mostly at bay, and when he returns, Tarin waves them away with a squawk of irritation.


    "You all go!" he barks. "This family business."


    There''s a lot of complaining, but it doesn''t take long for them to all filter away. Tarin''s gaze returns to Naru''s unconscious body, lying on the ground with his head propped up on the mossiest, most comfortable rock Ahkelios could find.


    "You want help Naru," he says after a moment. "You sure he not betray you?"


    "Sure?" I ask. "No. Not sure."


    "But you give him chance."


    "I think I can afford him that much," I say dryly. "Not to get overconfident or anything, but I should be able to handle him, and he took a pretty big risk doing this to himself. That..."


    I pause, watching Tarin carefully. "That, and I think you''d miss him if I actually just let him die."


    Tarin flinches. It''s subtle, but it''s there. Mari pretends she isn''t listening, pretends she''s washing the dishes, but I see her going still for a moment before she resumes what she''s doing.


    "You can fix?" Tarin asks, and I shake my head slightly.


    "Not yet," I say. "I''ve stabilized him for now. I''m going to need to find out more about Firmament cores if I want to properly cure him. I guess we could try looking for more Phantom Root, but I don''t think it''s going to help this time."


    Not when it''s the natural healing ability of the core being suppressed. To my surprise, Tarin shakes his head. "No," he says. "Even if Root help..."


    I can see him hesitating. "What is it?"


    "Ethan," Tarin says. His voice is unusually serious. "You know I not want to remember loop."


    "...I know that," I say, although I''m reluctant to approach the subject. Part of me already knows what Tarin is going to suggest.


    "It not enough to fix Naru," Tarin says. "He need remember."


    I try to control my expression. "I know that."


    "I remember loops because piece of Interface Firmament stuck in me. Yes?" Tarin''s speaking surprisingly gently. "You learn what you need. Then you take from me. Give to him."


    This feels like it''s coming sooner than I''d hoped. "I can do that," I say anyway. I think. Tarin studies me for a moment, then snorts.


    "You look like I slap you!" he declares. "It not like I forget you! I just not remember new loops."


    "I know that," I grumble.


    "Then you not look so sad!" Tarin reaches over and smacks me with a partially Firmament-reinforced wing. It actually doesn''t hurt¡ªnot with all the ways my Firmament has begun reinforcing my body since the third phase shift¡ªbut I rub the spot anyway. "You do good. You help free Hestia. Yes?"


    I sigh softly. I guess I''m doing this. "Yes," I say. "I''ll be back, Tarin."


    "Yes." Tarin gives me a confident nod, then surprises me by hugging me, wrapping me up into his wings. "It good knowing you."


    I hear a few firm steps¡ªMari, striding over quickly. I almost expect her to pull Tarin away for some reason, but instead she also folds me into a hug.


    "I not remember you," she tells me. "But my Firmament remember. You good. And..."


    She hesitates for a moment. "We not have hope for Naru for long time," she says. "You give hope. So even if we not remember... thank you."


    Well now. This just isn''t fair.


    I kneel down to hug them back, hiding the bulk of my reaction by burying my face in their feathers, and spend a quiet moment with them.


    <hr>


    Some time later, we''re at the top of the cliff that the Cliffside Crows are named for, mostly to avoid any particularly intrepid crow children from climbing into the portal I''m about to open.


    Talk about a restriction. If I want Naru to remember the events of this loop...


    This isn''t the same as Tarin. Tarin was sent into a coma by the Interface trying to kill him; he had a piece of the Interface with him the whole time, keeping one version of him locked in place. Naru has no such protection¡ªthe version of the Interface that''s linked to him is holding him back, not preserving him.


    Which means if I let myself die before completing this next stage, Naru''s losing all his memories of this loop.


    "We''re stuck with one try again, huh?" Ahkelios says.


    "One try," I agree.


    It won''t be the end of the world or anything if I fail. The only person that loses is, in fact, Naru. But if he actually wants to change, even if I think he''s an idiot for the way he went about it...


    Well, I might as well give him the chance he''s so desperate for.


    I flick my hand out and summon the entrance to the Empty City. The barrier over it is gone¡ªenough time has elapsed, and it''s open again for me to complete the second stage. Whatever it is, the chaos of Firmament behind the door tells me that a lot has changed.


    "Are you ready?" He-Who-Guards asks. I give him a slight nod, and he walks through. I follow close behind, but pause as I step through.


    There are many things I expected the second stage of the Ritual to be. Many things I thought it might involve. Puzzles, for example. A whole new slew of monsters. More of those strange flowers creeping through the empty buildings.


    What I didn''t expect?


    Color.


    People.

 169 — Book 3, Chapter 28 — Collisions

    The Empty City is no longer empty. It is, in fact, the closest thing to a bustling metropolis I''ve seen since I was ripped away from Earth¡ªmore so than even Isthanok and its busy streets. Without all the decay eating away at the city, I can see how many of these buildings are in fact skyscrapers. What I''d assumed were the roofs of individual buildings were in fact just one of many floors, the top levels having apparently been scoured away by time and broken Firmament.


    It''s a beautiful place, which only makes knowing what happened to it that much worse.


    None of the people here seem aware of what''s to come, though. I watch as they go about their lives¡ªjust like the Tear I went to earlier, it''s clear that these are simulations of Firmament, but at the same time they''re far more real than anything originally generated by the Tear. They feel like...


    They feel like Gheraa. Like the copy of himself he''d left within me¡ªtechnically alive, a snapshot of his personhood at a moment in time. I take a moment to feel for that seed of him still cradled somewhere within my core; it pulses with a surprising warmth as my Firmament brushes against it, although it''s otherwise quiet.


    If nothing else, this tells me that I''m probably on the right path. Even if I don''t know how to feel about the dungeon generating what appears to be fully sapient life.


    I watch for a moment as they go about their lives. None of them seem to notice us. They''re a species of... scarab-dragonfly hybrids, as best as I can tell? Humanoid in form, bodies naturally armored in colored chitin, and wearing clothes made of layers of semitransparent, flowing cloth woven together like robes and dresses.


    "Oooh," Ahkelios says. "That''s smart."


    I glance at him. "What is?"


    "Their clothes!" He points at a passing person who, thankfully, either doesn''t notice or chooses to ignore us. "I''ve tried wearing cloth before. It usually catches and tears on my exoskeleton."


    "Huh." The way the robes and dresses are flared does avoid that, I suppose. I turn to Ahkelios and stare at him for long enough that he begins to shift uncomfortably. "You know, I never asked, but... Ahkelios, are you¡ª"


    "It is perfectly normal for my species not to wear clothes!" he huffs indignantly before I can finish my question. "Clothes are for special occasions! Because they tear! We wear armor."


    "Right." I tuck that fact into the back of my mind, trying not to grin. "And you''re wearing your armor right now."


    "No¡ªSort of." Ahkelios scowls, folding his arms across his chest. "I don''t want to talk about it."


    "If you''re uncomfortable, I could always make you something?" I suggest.


    "I wasn''t uncomfortable until you brought this up!"


    "I didn''t bring this up," I point out. Ahkelios makes an embarrassed sort of noise somewhere deep in his throat, then promptly dematerializes, presumably so he can sulk in my core instead of out here.


    Guard, of course, mostly seems to be amused. "This isn''t what I expected," he says, opting not to comment on the exchange. He''s stopped in his tracks just a few feet away from the gateway¡ªnow that I think about it, I don''t think anyone around us is actually paying attention to us, despite how out-of-place we are. "Do they not see us, or...?"


    "I''m not sure," I say, taking a few steps forward as I speak. "I think the Ritual stage hasn''t started yet? I probably need to¡ª"


    Sure enough, the moment I cross some invisible threshold of distance, the Interface updates and pings me with a new objective.


    [Ritual Stage 2: Plant the Seed]


    Prerequisites:


    Protect Novi, the Archivist: 0/1


    Collect the Seed: 0/1


    Charge the Seed: 0/100


    Plant the Seed: 0/1


    Keep the Seed safe: 1/1


    Now collected, the Seed must find fertile soil. Assist Isiris with delivering it to the Shadowed Laboratory, and assist the Seed in gathering the energy it needs to take root.


    I frown slightly at the notification, briefly wondering how I''m supposed to find Novi. Fortunately, the dungeon solves that problem for me quickly.


    "You must be Ethan and He-Who-Guards," a soft voice calls. I turn to see a small, lean version of the scarab-people bowing slightly toward me. She wears a translucent, off-white outfit with pearlescent overtones that hangs off her shoulders in long strips, and there''s a quiet serenity in the way she speaks, the way she carries herself. "You are my assigned Protectors?"


    "That... would be accurate, yes," I say cautiously. I''m not really sure what that term means in their culture. "I take it you''re Novi?"


    "I am." Novi smiles at me, then turns slightly so that she''s addressing both me and Guard. "You seem confused. First days are often difficult for newly-summoned Protectors. Do not worry; I will explain everything you need to know."


    Newly summoned, huh? I shift uncomfortably under Novi''s gaze, not quite used to anyone being this... nice? Genuine? She reminds me a lot of Guard, actually, just with a bit more of a motherly touch.


    Actually, no. Guard can also be motherly. A little too motherly, sometimes. I shake my head to dispel the thought and turn my attention to Novi once again. "What do you mean, newly summoned?"


    Novi blinks. "They didn''t even explain that?" She makes a disapproving clicking sort of noise in her throat. "Ah... this is difficult to explain. Come with me; I will explain as we walk."


    I nod in assent and begin to follow her, with Guard trailing behind me.


    "Summons," Novi says, "are a specific form of Firmament art. Sometimes they are creatures summoned from the aether, possessing no origin or purpose except that which they are given. Other times¡ªwhen the summoning is performed by a truly gifted Seer¡ªthe creatures brought forth are people in their own right, with homes and families of their own. It''s still widely debated whether those families are real. We have no proof, one way or another."


    I say nothing. I know what I am, but what she''s telling me... it sounds eerily like she might be describing herself. Maybe these summonings really did exist back in the day, and maybe her people really did summon people from other worlds¡ªor simulations of them¡ªto aid them in their everyday tasks. Maybe it''s all just a dungeon-conceived excuse to give me a place in the history it wants me to recreate.


    But it is, I suspect, at least true. The situation is just reversed, as far as the dungeon goes. Novi and her people are the summons, not me. It doesn''t seem like a great time to tell her, though, so I remain silent.


    "You have no questions?" Novi prompts, surprised. I laugh.


    "I suppose I guessed something along those lines," I admit. It''s a partial lie, but not enough of one that I feel guilty about it.


    "Some summons have been known to have... breakdowns, when their origin is explained to them," Novi says after a moment. "I disagree with the practice. It feels unethical to create a being that may despair at its existence, and certainly unethical to do so to help with menial tasks. Fortunately the process only picks those who are amenable to it, but that is a small comfort, I fear."


    "How would you feel?" I ask. "If you learned you were a summon?"


    Novi pauses briefly in her steps. "I do not know," she admits after a moment. "I do not think I would enjoy the knowledge, but it would be of little point to fight it. I think I would mostly be worried about my children. If those memories were false, and they did not exist..."


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    She trails off and shakes her head. "I do not enjoy that thought."


    "Can''t blame you there," I mutter. That much, at least, she doesn''t have to worry about: if she''s the person I think she is, then her children are¡ªor were¡ªreal.


    Though given the way their story ended... I grimace a bit. Maybe I shouldn''t reveal to her the nature of the dungeon and what''s about to happen. Not yet, anyway.


    "Tell me about them?" I ask instead. Novi brightens at the words.


    "You are an excellent Protector," she says. "You are curious! Very few of our summons exhibit curiosity. Perhaps there is something special about you?"


    I laugh awkwardly. "Maybe?" I say. "I like to think I''m just interested in the world around me. You clearly care about your children, so I''d like to know more about them."


    "I am happy to talk about them." Novi smiles brightly. "They are Juri and Yarun, my sons. My bright ones. Juri is the elder of them¡ªhe is old enough now that he pretends he does not still love his toy sword and shield. Yarun keeps many dolls and figures and has detailed stories for each one. You should hear the tales he tells! Even Juri loves them, though I suspect that is because Yarun often has him playing the role of hero..."


    The names confirm my suspicions¡ªNovi is the woman who wrote the record I read, the woman who detailed the end of the Empty City. There''s an honest, earnest love in her voice as she tells us everything about her children. Their favorite foods, their bad habits, the embarrassing moments they''ve had.


    A long time ago, I might''ve found something like this exhausting. Now, though? I find myself just... relaxing and enjoying the conversation. Novi doesn''t get the opportunity to talk about her children much, it seems, but everything about her is so truly genuine. She doesn''t exaggerate how well they''re doing, doesn''t present her children as perfect, but the love she has is evident in every word she speaks.


    Juri and Yarun have their flaws, but they are her children, and they are always trying. She encourages them through their failures and celebrates their successes. She teaches them to be good¡ªto care about the people around them, to be curious about the world, to question and study and learn. She does it alone, too; her partner, she says, was lost a long time ago, during the early days of the Awakening.


    A small part of me wonders what it might have been like to have a mother like this, but it''s a small part. I''ve moved on from what happened with my family.


    Guard and I are both content with listening. We interject with questions every once in a while, and slowly, through the lens of her children, we build a picture of the people that live here, of what the Empty City was before it became... well, empty.


    Their people are named the scirix, and the city we''re in is named First Sky. It''s the capital of the scirix empire, which is largely led by a circle of Elders. Those Elders are in turn advised by Seers, who Novi explains are individuals that have made enough progress with their Firmament for their guidance to quite literally shape civilisation.


    "Almost everyone aspires to become a Seer. I did, too, once," Novi confides in me. "I am pleased with my role as Archivist now, but there was a time where my desire to become a Seer was everything to me."


    "What changed?" I ask, though I think I know the answer. Novi smiles at me.


    "Juri was born," she says. I chuckle; that''s more or less what I''ve come to expect from her. Her life was shaped by her children, it seems. "And I would change nothing. Seers are often... isolated. The time, dedication and resources required to become one are exorbitant. I would not have had the time to spend with my children, and I would not trade that time for anything¡ªnot even to become Seer."


    "You said they''re all at the third phase shift, at minimum?" I ask. Novi nods.


    "We have only five of them," she says. "Five Seers, each specializing in an Aspect. Force, Body, Mind, Energy, and Spirit."


    "What are these Aspects?" I ask, curious. Novi gives me a strange look.


    "You know of phase shifts, but not of Aspects?" she asks. "Have you not done a phase shift yourself? Most Protectors are at least at the first layer, if not at the second."


    "I have," I say. "But humor me. Maybe our understanding of phase shifts are a little different."


    "Hmm." Novi hums. "Yes. Well. The first layer demands that you tell the Firmament which of the five Aspects you are. Our Seers are the most developed along their respective, chosen paths."


    I frown, casting my mind back to my first phase shift. That''s not what I remember. I was asked a question, but I wasn''t presented with a choice.


    Who am I?


    That was the question. But if what Novi is saying is correct, then either I was asked a different question, or their answers were... what, artificially constrained? By themselves and their understanding of Firmament, or by something else?


    "You did not choose one?" Novi asks curiously.


    "I can''t say I was even aware of the Aspects," I answer. "I just answered with what I was feeling at the time."


    Which was "I''m whoever the fuck I want to be", but saying it out loud feels... a great deal more embarrassing than it was in context. Novi tilts her head, watching me, curiosity evident in her eyes.


    "I have never considered that one might align their Firmament with something outside the Aspects," she says slowly. "The Aspects govern our very selves. It is known that one of the five paths must be chosen, lest your Firmament begin to wither; it was a commandment given to us by the gods themselves."


    That sounds remarkably like an artificial cultural constraint, specifically of the type the Integrators might try to use to control a population. But it''s baffling to me that not a single person would have thought to test it. Then again, they''ve only had Firmament for something like ten years, and it takes a long time to reach even the first phase shift for most...


    Hm. No, given the timeframe, it''s entirely possible that no one''s tested it yet. Who knows how long ago all this happened?


    "You have given me much to think about," Novi says. There''s a contemplative note in her voice, like she''s processing a realization she doesn''t quite want to put to words yet. "Thank you for your knowledge¡ªAh! We have arrived."


    The building we''re at is initially unremarkable to me. It''s nondescript, unmarked warehouse tucked away in between the alleys and streets. It doesn''t take me long to notice that there''s something strange about it, though. I frown, stepping closer.


    It''s shielded, somehow. Specifically, whatever material it''s made of renders the interior almost opaque to my Firmament sense¡ªI can sense something through it, but only barely, I rap a knuckle on the wall, noting that it feels like nothing more than ordinary brick. How is it blocking me?


    "What are you doing?" Novi asks curiously.


    "Just wondering why I can''t feel any Firmament through the walls," I say absently. If the rebels had had this back in Isthanok, they would''ve been able to stay entirely shielded from Whisper. Not that it matters now, with her out of commission.


    Novi brightens at my words. "You can sense Firmament!" she says. "That is a unique talent! It will be useful in the journey to come. These walls are made of blessed brick; it''s said that the gods themselves treated it. Personally, I think it''s one of the Seers."


    There''s that mention of gods again. I eye the brick curiously¡ªpart of me is itching to get a hold of the material and attempt something like an imbuement, just to see what would happen. Now''s probably not the best time for it, though. "I don''t suppose I could get my hands on some blessed brick?"


    Novi laughs. "Goodness, if only it were that easy. I will put in a good word for you when we are done with our mission, yes?"


    "I''d appreciate that."


    She grins at me, humming under her breath as she fishes around in her pockets for the keys. It''s still striking to me how much First Sky reminds me of Earth¡ªeverything from construction materials to the architecture of the buildings is close enough that if I squint, I can almost make myself believe I''m home.


    There are subtle differences, of course. The scirix don''t seem to like corners, for some reason? Every roof of every building has corners that are sanded off into a taper. I couldn''t begin to guess why.


    I''m shaken from my thoughts as Novi suddenly sways. Her keys fall to the ground and she catches herself on the nearby wall; one hand clutches at her head, her entire body folded into a grimace. "Novi? Are you okay?" I ask, hurrying to her side and steadying her.


    Protect Novi, the Archivist. I haven''t forgotten that I''m in the middle of a Ritual stage, tame as this one seems to be. But then, it hasn''t even begun yet, has it?


    "Yes," Novi whispers faintly. She blinks and shakes her head. "Yes. I am fine, it was just... a momentary lapse. Nothing to worry about."


    "If you say so," I say doubtfully. There was nothing fine about that, but I''m hardly an expert on scirix physiology.


    "Here," she says. She leans down and picks her keys back up, fumbling to unlock the door. "I am sure you know the mission already, but to brief you again: The Archivists have recently uncovered an old Firmament artifact buried just outside First Sky. The Elders have commanded that we transport it to the Shadowed Laboratory. You should be aware that the artifact tends to draw in hostile Firmament¡ªit''s the reason we have to keep it in this warehouse."


    "Right," I say. She opens the door, stepping through, and blinks in surprise.


    Right behind her, I freeze. There''s another scirix standing in the room, sitting on top of the box containing the Seed. He wears a steady, easy smile, looking for all the world like he belongs in this room. Like he''s here to take care of the box.


    But he doesn''t, and he isn''t.


    "Ethan, that''s..." Ahkelios speaks up from within me. Even without being manifested, I can feel his shock.


    "Yeah, I know," I respond. What I don''t know is what to do about it. Judging by the look on her face, Novi recognizes him. I, on the other hand, don''t. His appearance is entirely unfamiliar to me.


    But his Firmament isn''t, and now that the warehouse''s walls aren''t in the way, I can read it perfectly.


    He might be twisted into the shape of a scirix and forced to play a role in this dungeon, but that''s a Remnant.


    Specifically, Ahkelios''s Remnant.

 170 — Book 3, Chapter 29 — Twisted Time

    On some level, I feel like I should have expected something like this¡ªI''d sensed the Remnant''s presence in the dungeon even before the Ritual moved into its second stage. Why the Remnant is in the dungeon is another question entirely, but whatever transformation the Empty City went through, it must have affected the Remnant as well.


    That, I presume, is the reason it''s currently taking the form of a scirix and smiling at us like nothing''s wrong.


    "Why is your Remnant even here?" I ask, not taking my eyes off him. Novi trusts him, clearly¡ªshe doesn''t even seem surprised by his presence¡ªbut I don''t. Something about his Firmament reeks of... not hostility, exactly. But there''s something there that tells me that this Remnant isn''t just playing his role in scirix society. He remembers being Ahkelios. Is Ahkelios, more or less.


    A version of him that isn''t a friend. A version of him that remembers a different life, has different goals.


    "I''ve been in the Empty City before," Ahkelios reminds me. "Or I mean... I was in the sewers. I guess that''s enough for it to count as far as Remnants goes."


    "You sound worried."


    "Of course I am! Who knows what he''s going to do?" I can feel Ahkelios itching to manifest, but he knows as well as I do that that''s not a good idea for the moment¡ªwho knows what will set this version of him off. "Let me remind you that he was trying to make me betray you!"


    "Which you agreed not to do." I shrug, though mostly internally. "I''m not that worried about it."


    "Yes, and I think that''s a problem!" Ahkelios hisses at me.


    Our internal conversation is interrupted by the actual conversation taking place between Novi and this new scirix. I was too distracted by Ahkelios to catch most of it, but Guard nudges me just in time as Novi turns toward me, smiling. "This is Zhir," she says, gesturing to the other scirix. "He is an Archivist like myself, and I am fortunate to call him a friend."


    "Not quite as lucky as I am," the Remnant says, his voice playful. Novi laughs in response, flicking his arm.


    "Did you not agree to take care of my children while I do this?" she asks. "I believe they are waiting for you."


    "Alright, alright." The Remnant chuckles. He makes eye contact with me for a moment¡ªjust long enough to communicate that he knows who I am, that he knows what this is. I feel a slight chill go down my spine. "I''ll see you later. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ethan and company. Perhaps we can speak more later? Novi tells me you are astonishingly grounded for a summon; you may well be the most complete summon we''ve had in years."


    "And here I was worried I''d have problems making friends," I say jokingly. "Sure, sounds like a plan. As long as nothing throws those plans off, anyway. Should I bring you a gift? What do you like?"


    "A gift?" The Remnant cocks his head. I think that''s actual surprise¡ªhe wasn''t expecting me to play along with him? "I would appreciate a painting. Perhaps some plants."


    "Plants?" It''s Novi''s turn to be teasing. "I am surprised. The last time I tried to gift you a plant, you told me it would dirty your home."


    "Ah." Zhir seems briefly thrown. Calling the Remnant by his scirix name is easier, for now. All the better to distinguish him from Ahkelios. "Yes, well... Preferences change, I suppose."


    That''s definitely Ahkelios. I''m not sure why we''re making plans to begin with¡ªit''s not like the dungeon is going to last for long once I complete the stage¡ªbut there''s an underlying tension in the conversation; whatever this is, our objectives are still at odds. I can sense the Remnant looking through me, almost as if he''s not looking at me but at...


    Well, at Ahkelios. Looking for the fragment of himself that''s a part of me instead of a part of him.


    Part of me wonders: this Remnant seems to be sapient. Does that mean it remembers? The Empty City as a dungeon exists outside Hestia''s Trial, which means that the Trial''s resets don''t necessarily affect the dungeon¡ªnot unless it''s explicitly linked to a Trialgoer. It''s possible he''s spent many loops wandering an empty city, entirely alone.


    I frown.


    Those aren''t my thoughts.


    It''s not that I''m not sympathetic, or that I wouldn''t normally consider these things¡ªbut if I pay careful attention, it feels almost like Ahkelios''s bond with me is... leaking. Like the familiar I''m sheltering in my soul is tied both to this Remnant and to me, and so is acting as a sort of bridge between the two of us. Zhir is looking at me like he doesn''t really understand me, but if I''m catching a glimpse of what he''s experienced, then I''m guessing he''s catching a glimpse of what I''ve experienced, too.


    I wonder if that''s going to be enough to change his mind on whatever he has planned. Because I can tell he''s got a plan, and I''m not sure I''m going to like it.


    "Are you ready, Protector?" Novi asks, entirely oblivious to the silent conversation between Zhir and I.


    "I suppose I am," I say. "Are you leading the way to... what was it, the Shadowed Laboratory?"


    "Perhaps a strange name, I know," Novi says with a light smile. "It is Shadowed because it is shielded from the Sky¡ªfrom the Firmament. Some of our summons have called it foreboding. A cultural division, I suppose. We tend to believe that both the shadow and the light have an equal and important part to play."


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    I watch as she picks the Seed up out of the box. It''s about twice as large as it was before¡ªstill easy enough to hold, but only barely. It''s also churning with Firmament, a chaotic mixture of energy that doesn''t quite resolve into anything I can recognize. I still don''t know why the dungeon''s Ritual revolves around this Seed, but I suppose I''ll find out.


    "We will see you later, Zhir!" Novi calls back as she heads out¡ªnot through the front door, I note, but to a tunnel that''s built into the side of the warehouse.


    Makes sense, if we''re expecting to be attacked. I take a few steps after her, gesturing for Guard to follow me, even as Zhir makes to leave through the front door.


    What was it Novi had said? That Zhir had agreed to take care of her children?


    And there was the look on Zhir''s face...


    "Ahkelios," I murmur. I feel him snapping to attention when I say his name. We''re aligned on this, I think.


    "You want me to follow him?" he asks.


    "You know me too well." I send him a sense of approval through our link, and he grins back; I feel him drawing on my Firmament just enough to manifest just outside the warehouse, hiding just behind the door.


    We''ve already tested him separating from me. It''s a strain on our link, but it''s something we can do now, far more than the original distance limitations I had with the skill. This will probably strain it a bit more than back when we were in Isthanok, but hopefully not enough to snap him back to me. It all depends on how far we''re going.


    For now, I put it out of my mind. My job is to protect Novi and to make sure the Seed stays safe. There''s plenty of space to maneuver¡ªonce we get far enough down the steps, the tunnel expands into a structure that''s truly massive, lit with what looks like a series of lights powered by a mixture of Firmament and redirected solar energy¡ªso I just need to watch out for... what was it Novi said? Something about the Seed drawing in hostile Firmament?


    I glance at the Interface. I can already feel small wisps of Firmament being drawn into it now that it''s outside the shielding of the warehouse. This tunnel is unshielded, and plenty of Firmament trickles down from above; if I activate Firmament Sight, I can see it almost like drops of colored rain.


    One of them splashes onto the Seed and is quickly absorbed without a trace. I glance at the Interface.


    [Collect the Seed: 1/1


    Charge the Seed: 1/100]


    At the same time, there''s a low groan that echoes through the tunnel.


    "Hostile Firmament incoming!" Novi announces, though it''s unnecessary. I glance further into the tunnel, drawing some power into my eyes to help me see.


    Yep. That''s some hostile Firmament alright. In fact, they''re quite a lot like the human legend of ghosts.


    "You didn''t tell me they look like dead scirix," I grumble. Novi makes an awkward, embarrassed sort of noise, clearing her throat.


    "I did not think it would be important." She pauses. "Is it?"


    "Nah." I shrug. "You might want to look away, though. This is going to get messy."


    A quick test confirms my suspicions: physical attacks don''t do anything to them. A Phaseshift, though? The skill that specifically lets me move out of phase with reality and into phase with Firmament?


    I tear a scirix-ghost apart like it''s made of paper. It''s kind of a horrid sight, because the Firmament copies... well, everything. Down to the internals. I wince a bit. I can sense stronger ones and bigger ones, too, further down the tunnel; not all of it is going to be this easy.


    Messy is almost certainly going to be an understatement. A quick glance back tells me that despite my warnings, Novi is probably not going to look away or be particularly bothered by the violence. She seems kind of fascinated by it, if anything.


    Oh boy.


    On the plus side...


    [You have defeated an Empty Regret (Rank E)! +3 Strength credits. +1 Firmament credit.]


    For whatever reason, they''re still enough to give me credits.


    Works for me.


    <hr>


    Ahkelios felt his heart hammering in his chest¡ªfor a given definition of ''heart'' and ''chest'', anyway. His whole body was made of Firmament, so the old physical sensations of stress and anxiety were more psychosomatic than an actual stress response. It didn''t change what he was feeling, though.


    Especially since it didn''t take very long before Zhir sighed and called out to him. "I know you''re following me," he said. "You might as well come out."


    Ahkelios considered for a moment that his counterpart might have been bluffing, but it was unlikely. He could feel his Remnant, and if that were true for him, then it was just as true for the Remnant. Trying to hide was an exercise in futility.


    Better to find out what he was planning.


    "What are you doing here?" he asked, emerging from the bush he was hiding in. He shook his entire body a few times to get rid of all the leaves stuck on him, and Zhir watched him in amusement.


    "I hardly have a choice," the scirix-but-not-really said. "I''m as much a slave to this dungeon as everyone else is. Perhaps more. It is fascinating, though; in all the attempts I''ve seen to clear this dungeon, this is only the second time I have encountered someone able to unlock its Ritual."


    "And you''re not planning to screw it up?" Ahkelios asked, fluttering next to Zhir. The Remnant turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. Ridge. Ahkelios didn''t really know much about scirix physiology.


    "I have one goal," Zhir said plainly. "And it''s to reintegrate myself with you."


    Ahkelios stopped in place, and Zhir stopped too, waiting for him patiently. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.


    "Because I''m tired of this," Zhir said. "Do you know how long I''ve been stuck here since our Trial? How long I''ve been forced to play the same old tired game? I didn''t even have the option of giving up like you did. I''m a ghost of a ghost, playing the role of a monster, watching Trialgoer after Trialgoer die."


    Ahkelios remained silent.


    "And I tried, you know," Zhir continued. "To convince you to join me. I''m strong enough and you''re strong enough that we could just sever your connection with Ethan. Make us our own person independent from him."


    "That''s what Ethan wants too," Ahkelios said.


    "Ah, but he wants that for you." Zhir raised a finger and wagged it in an oddly human mannerism; it took Ahkelios a moment to realize that he''d pilfered it from his bond with Ethan, and that made him feel strangely dirty. "I want that for me. And that''s going to be a problem for us, because I don''t think either of us want to lose our individuality."


    Ahkelios was almost certain he knew what was coming, but he waited anyway. His fists clenched, but he hid them behind his back.


    "And if I can''t convince you to let me take over the normal way," Zhir said. Ahkelios thought it was strange how he sounded like he was trying to convince himself, too, but then he wasn''t too surprised; he wondered what he would have done in Zhir''s position.


    Fought like this too, probably. Maybe. He didn''t think he''d stooped to threats, but who knew how much his counterpart had been through?


    "I''ve seen the Ritual done once before," Zhir said, turning to Ahkelios. "Deaths in one Ritual stage carry over to the next. And that woman''s kids? They''re going to be very, very important in the later stages. So: Here''s the deal.


    "You let me take over and give me my freedom. In return, I won''t kill them, and your Trialgoer won''t be stuck trying to finish a Ritual that can never be completed."

 171 — Book 3, Chapter 30 — Simulations

    [Charge the Seed: 32/100]


    The fight''s advanced enough to become harrowing. Novi knows enough to stay a good distance back, thankfully; the plan for Guard to take the lead doesn''t quite work as well against these Regrets. If they get close enough to him, they can just phase themselves through¡ªand from the looks of things, that does quite a bit of damage to his systems.


    "Are you alright?" I ask, steadying him. There''s some smoke coming out from his systems; he makes a sound that''s a little bit like a cough. He nods, but leans a bit more weight on me than I''d expect if he was fine.


    "I will be fine," He-Who-Guards says. "I simply need to make sure they don''t touch me."


    True enough. I take the lead anyway; as long as Phaseshift is active, I can basically act as a physical wall. A barrier. They seem drawn to me when I do it, too. Only a few of them slip past to try to get at Novi and the Seed.


    Guard, meanwhile, doesn''t take long to adapt to his role as backup. His Firmament blasts can still hit them, and his chains work as long as they''re charged through with his power. At first, it''s barely even necessary¡ªbut the farther we get down the tunnels, the more the Regrets swarm. More and more of them get past me.


    And that''s where Guard really shines.


    From the way he''s fighting, I get the odd feeling that he''s frustrated¡ªthere''s an aggression to his movements that I''m not used to seeing from him. Maybe he feels he isn''t contributing as much as he should. He fights with an expert precision, launching charged chains of Firmament that anchor themselves into the walls to block off paths, firing bursts out of his palms that take down two or three ghosts each.


    It''s pretty cool, if I''m being honest. I''d sit back and watch him if I didn''t have to fight myself. We make steady progress like this, and for a while it''s enough.


    But only for now.


    I narrow my eyes, staring into the darkness further down the tunnel; the lights deeper in have started failing in a way that I''m pretty sure isn''t a coincidence, and the mass of Firmament I can sense is starting to slowly increase. Some of the ghosts begin to blend into one another, flickering and merging into stronger specters that are just a little more resilient¡ªa little harder to take down.


    Figures that a dungeon challenge isn''t going to be quite this easy.


    Even without the slowly-increasing density and strength of these monsters, their sheer numbers are enough to make the fight harrowing. If it were just me and Guard, I''d be a lot more confident about being able to take on this hoard, but with Novi standing directly in the tunnel with us?


    Having to protect her complicates things¡ª


    Three Regrets rush me at once. I solidify with a Phaseshift, wrap my arms with an Amplified Gauntlet, and tear through one in an instant.


    [You have defeated an Empty Regret (Rank C)! +15 Strength credits. +2 Durability credits. +2 Reflex credits. +3 Speed credits. +2 Firmament credits.]


    The other two follow quickly.


    If nothing else, every defeat is still giving me credits. I''m not sure why¡ªI''m pretty sure if I fought these things back in Hestia, they wouldn''t be enough of a challenge to give me any credits at all. Maybe it''s something about this place being a dungeon.


    I''m not complaining, though. I''m well aware that skills aren''t everything, but...


    [Status | Skills | Mastery | Inspirations | Dungeons]


    [Ethan, third-layer practitioner]


    Talents: [Anchor]


    [Credit Distribution]


    Strength: 566 (1400 banked)


    Durability: 879 (1646 banked)


    Reflex: 633 (2477 banked)


    Speed: 602 (1420 banked)


    Firmament: 970 (2091 banked)


    [NOTICE: Interface currently running on backup protocol ANCHORED HERITAGE. Features and rewards may be different.]


    Another S-rank Firmament skill with about thirty more credits, and at the rate these things are coming, I''ll attain it soon enough.


    I''m well aware at this point that skills aren''t everything, and I''m barely scratching the surface with what the Interface can offer me. One of these days, I''m going to need to sit down and pore over the skills with the All-Seeing Eye and see what I''m missing¡ªbecause there''s something. Something in the gaps between skills, something I''ve been catching a glimpse of here and there... The patterns they share.


    Strength, Durability, Reflex, Speed, Firmament. If the categories are a lie, then what are they hiding? Some deeper truth about Firmament, if I had to guess. Maybe a deeper truth about skills as a whole.


    A Regret grazes me with some frost-aligned Firmament, and I hiss, forcing my attention back to the fight. It''s too easy to let myself get distracted when fighting each individual ghost feels so easy. Maybe that''s part of the challenge here.


    But that doesn''t feel quite right. This is a Dungeon challenge. There''s going to be some kind of twist, and if I don''t figure out what it is before it happens...


    I''m only going to have one try at this stage if I want to let Naru keep his memories.


    More likely there''s some kind of trick here. Or an upcoming boss. I narrow my eyes, trying to figure it out.


    Rate of flow, maybe?


    Every time there''s a new wave of Regrets, they''re a little stronger than before. There are more of them than before. Every time they do, the Seed ticks up just a little bit higher in its charge. The first wave gave it only a single point. The second gave it two. The third gave it four. Spare drops of Firmament from the ceiling cause it to jump up another one or two at random, but there''s an exponential component to the way it''s charging.


    And, in the same vein, there''s an exponential component to the difficulty of these Regrets.


    But that doesn''t feel right. It doesn''t feel like it''s the whole of it.


    Firmament begins to pick up around me. There''s something in it¡ªsomething that isn''t Firmament¡ªand I reach out for it automatically.


    To my surprise, there''s something there.


    [You have touched a Thread.]


    ...What?


    Before I can consider the notification farther, I feel a sudden flow of clarity, and refocus my thoughts. I''ll check on that later, but something about this is giving me insight I wouldn''t have otherwise. It''s almost like a trance¡ªa flow state. Even my skills feel more responsive, eager to be used.


    Dungeons are fundamentally meant to challenge their delvers. They may be created from the memories of a dead Firmament practitioner, but the Interface interferes with them in some way to create these challenges, these Rituals.


    I can feel Premonition in the back of my mind beginning to shine. It''s not doing what it usually does¡ªnormally, it points out incoming danger. This use of it feels different. It''s almost like it''s trying to build on my intuition, trying to guide me. Trying to boost whatever it is I just touched on.


    I feed some Firmament into it experimentally. There''s a way my Firmament curls through it, a way it connects to my brain and instincts¡ª


    [Your mastery of Premonition has improved!]


    There''s something building. I can feel the shape of it, even if I don''t know exactly what it is.


    "Ethan." Guard gets my attention. "What is wrong? You are faltering."


    "I''m just trying to figure out what they''re doing," I answer.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    He''s right, though. Whatever I''ve latched on to is occupying most of my mind. I''m still fighting, but it''s like my body is moving on autopilot¡ªthe Knight is helping me, now that I''m paying attention. I''m not fully engaging the Inspiration, but it''s reaching out to guide me in battle, helping me grab and tear each Regret apart as they approach.


    And my mind is running full-tilt, almost out of my control.


    Almost. It''s still my mind, after all. I can guide it, shape its direction.


    [Your mastery of Quicken Mind has improved!]


    I feel like I''m on the verge of understanding something about dungeons. My mental Firmament skills are all stirring, almost on their own¡ªno.


    Not on their own. They''re responding to my train of thought. I''m guiding them.


    A dungeon, once integrated, is a tool of the Interface. The overall beats of history are correct, I''m sure, but Novi probably didn''t have to fight through a horde of ghosts to deposit the Seed in the Shadowed Laboratory. The challenge itself is unique. A creation of the Interface, not a real beat from history.


    And the Interface promised I''d learn more about my connection with Firmament. Its rewards aren''t usually just shoved straight into my mind, are they? The closest I''ve ever gotten to that is Ahkelios receiving an ''information package'', and even that had its lies. Mostly because it was an Integrator reward and not a proper Interface one.


    It likes rewarding effort. It wants me to learn.


    The challenges are designed for me to understand things about Firmament. Possibly more. Like how I picked up something about shapes from the Seedmother.


    [Bonus objective completed!


    Grand Design: 1/1


    Escalating difficulty...]


    Whatever state I was in begins to fade, leaving me with a slight headache.


    And at the same time, I see Firmament start to flicker through the crowd of Regrets, dimming and brightening, creating lines of movement. I get a final insight before my thoughts finally settle back to normal.


    "Guard," I say. "This one''s for you."


    <hr>


    He-Who-Guards wasn''t quite sure what Ethan meant by that, but there was something in the human''s voice that made him stand a little straighter.


    His journey with Ethan so far was... he wasn''t sure he had the right words for it. He felt like he was falling behind, in a way. He had an immense amount of Firmament and very little he could do with it other than blast it out of his palms¡ªhe hadn''t even quite figured out skill circuits yet. All of them were in his memory banks, and ever since he''d captured them he''d had his AI running in the background, trying to analyze them and figure them out.


    But they were complicated things, even put into a format he understood. The last time he''d tried to invoke a skill circuit had been while they were repairing the Carusath Tear, and that had backfired and failed.


    He hadn''t shown it at the time, but the backfiring had failed in a spectacular way, too. All the Firmament he''d poured into the circuit flooded back into him, nearly overloading his systems. If the AI hadn''t quickly taken over and shunted the majority of the force into its own circuits...


    It meant that it would be partially fried for the rest of this loop, and in some ways, Guard missed having its company. He hadn''t needed it the way he needed it before; not since Ethan had fixed him. But they were... friends, after a fashion. They knew each other better than anyone else did.


    Now he was just left with his own thoughts. It was lonelier than he''d expected.


    It surprised him, though, how many of those thoughts were centered around the idea of protecting Ethan. Ethan didn''t even really need that protection. Half the time, it was the other way around. But it was like the human had entirely supplanted She-Who-Whispers in his mind¡ªonce upon a time, he would''ve given up his life for her, and now...


    Well, now he was pretty sure that if he suggested anything of the sort to Ethan, Ethan would just stare at him and refuse in that very human way of his.


    Silverwisp society was quite different from humanity, he''d gathered. Silverwisps considered a pledge of allegiance the highest honor one silverwisp could bestow to another. There was a whole ceremony for it, even. He''d take a piece of his Firmament, that wispy, ethereal substance that made up his form, and he''d give it to the person he was pledging himself to. They''d give him a lesser, smaller piece in exchange.


    There was an importance to it. A lot of their society revolved around little exchanges like these. The people you shared your essence with were few and far between¡ªmost often for romantic arrangements, less often as a pledge of allegiance, and rarer still for truly close friendships and bonds.


    The one time he''d suggested pledging himself to Ethan was shortly after the asteroid strike, while Isthanok was building. He didn''t know the human that well yet, but he''d seen enough through the loops that he admired him. Looked up to him, in a way. Wanted a piece of that determination that let Ethan keep pushing himself through adversity, a piece of whatever it was that made him keep fighting when the odds seemed impossible.


    Ethan had looked at him like the suggestion was an insult. "You know you''re not serving me, right?" he''d said. "Because if you think that, we probably shouldn''t travel together."


    "I know that," Guard had said. He did, but the response made him feel warm anyway. It was good to have confirmation.


    He remembered, still, what it was like. Trying to hold back the weight of an entire asteroid about to hit Isthanok. Knowing that if he failed, the entire city would be wiped out¡ªlikely far more. He remembered pouring all the Firmament he''d had into it. He''d never been lacking for Firmament; the disease he''d been born with ensured that. He had a nearly neverending pool of it, to the point it had begun to unravel his soul.


    And Ethan had just... fixed it. Stitched his soul back together.


    Even with all that power, he couldn''t hold back the asteroid. It didn''t matter how much Firmament he had if there was a limit to how much of that Firmament he could channel at any given time, and the body Whisper had given him, powerful as it was, simply couldn''t output enough to stop something like the asteroid.


    And even without those restrictions, if he simply opened up his core and blasted it, the calibration alone? Too much Firmament would drill through the asteroid and do nothing, leaving the rest of it to crash into the city; too little would do nothing; too wide and he''d again run into the problem of not channeling enough; too little and he''d once again just drill through it. Using all his Firmament and all his proxies was enough to slow it down, but just barely.


    And then Ethan had come in. Looked at the asteroid. Hadn''t even considered for a second that their task might be impossible. It was like he''d looked up and decided it didn''t deserve to be there. The sheer force of what he''d done... He didn''t think Ethan knew how it felt to everyone else.


    It was like reality itself had bent to obey him. Bent around Ethan, first and foremost, changing him into something somehow more solid and more real¡ªa magnetic presence that was unto perception like gravity itself. It was impossible not to notice.


    Then his fist, lay flat against the asteroid, as he commanded it to move. Forced it into a new direction.


    Again, Ethan himself most likely hadn''t noticed¡ªbut the shockwave of it was something he''d felt in his soul. Not just him, but every citizen of Isthanok.


    He was certain it was what had destabilized Whisper, too. She was a proud woman, but despite everything she said...


    She''d been closest to Ethan and incredibly drained of her Firmament when that had happened. He-Who-Guards didn''t have the level of Firmament sensitivity that Ethan did, but even he could guess what had happened.


    When his soul unraveled, it was because there was too much Firmament bubbling up from within.


    She-Who-Whispers began to unravel, and it was due to the shockwave of reality that Ethan had conjured from without.


    Not that she would admit it. Nor would she ever stoop to the level of asking for help¡ªnot for herself, and not from someone she''d already tried to mess with. She was too proud for that.


    He-Who-Guards wondered if she was telling the truth about waking up, because if he was right, then it was likely she wouldn''t wake up at all. He didn''t know how he felt about that.


    That was all beside the point, really. The point was that what happened that day had shaken him. Forced him to reconsider the core tenets of what he believed in. Made everything shift, just a little bit, toward Ethan.


    Back in the fight against the Seedmother, he''d started to consider that he could perhaps become something more. Started to consider that he might be able to learn to do what it did, might be able to grow the way a Trialgoer could. But he''d run into a roadblock¡ªall those skill circuits he''d memorized practically burned in his databanks, but he still hadn''t been able to do anything with them. He was relying on the AI in his systems, expecting it to eventually have some sort of breakthrough, but it was currently fried.


    This one''s for you, Ethan had said. He-Who-Guards stared at the flickering Firmament passing between the ghosts. Observed. Tried to understand, for the first time in a long time, without the help of his AI.


    They were passing Firmament through one another, in a long, convoluted way, some of them charging and flickering, others inverting the signal, Firmament bouncing between each and every one of them like a long and hard to observe¡ª


    His single optic widened.


    Circuit.


    "Ethan!" he called out; there was a flare of panicked static in his voice. "They''re using a skill!"


    At the same time, their first circuit completed. A rush of Firmament poured down the tunnel. It was nothing like Guard had ever seen before¡ªit radiated pure death. Death Firmament, literal and visible, creeping down the tunnel like a black fog.


    Guard operated on pure instinct. He didn''t even have the help of his AI. But he had experience, he had his observations, and his mind had never stopped calculating. It saw the circuit in its entirety.


    The thing about the way the ghosts were doing this? It was slow. It was visible.


    And it was exactly what he needed to figure out his final, missing step:


    The circuits had an element of time. How long the Firmament took to flow. Where it came from. A fourth dimension to its flow that created a pattern he couldn''t see.


    "Hold on, miss Novi," he instructed. The scirix archivist grabbed on to his arm.


    He-Who-Guards held that circuit in his mind''s eye...


    And inverted it.

 172 — Book 3, Chapter 31 — Death Fog

    The moment Guard yells it out, I see it. I almost curse myself for not seeing it before¡ªit''s not like I didn''t see the Firmament flowing between them. But it looked entirely random. I''d assumed they were automatic exchanges of Firmament that occured because the ghosts were too close to one another, not that they were intentionally recreating a circuit.


    By the time he warns me, though, it''s too late for me to stop it. I pour on every defensive skill I can. This is the fourth wave¡ªtheir power has been doubled four times over. Each rank is a doubling in power. They started at Rank E, and now they''re at Rank B.


    That wouldn''t be a problem if there weren''t so many of them, and if the skill they were using wasn''t...


    I hiss at the feeling of it.


    This is a group cast. It''s a skill generated by at least a hundred Rank B monsters working in concert. The skill they''re using isn''t Rank B; it doesn''t match their rank at all.


    My mind reaches out, touches on whatever I used before, whatever a Thread is. This time, it''s a little more exhausting to force¡ªI''m straining something within me to do it, reaching out with a part of myself I haven''t had any practice with.


    But I manage it. A split second of that trance, a split second of it interacting with my skills.


    [You have touched a Thread.]


    And Inspect burns in the forefront, growing brighter.


    [Your mastery of Inspect has improved!]


    Information floods into my mind.


    Rank S. Minimum.


    Death Fog.


    Even after that, Inspect just... keeps going. It feeds me more. I''m forced to close my eyes just to process the information it''s pouring into me.


    Death Fog is a Rank S Firmament skill that was created on the planet of Estat, 2,901 Trial cycles ago. Estat''s Heart was exactly what you''d expect for a place that produced such a skill¡ªit held the concept of Death, and so was populated by a multitude of different species of undead.


    A vision flashes into my mind. I see a full, bustling civilization, but it''s nothing like what I might have expected a planet of undead to look like. The cities are brightly lit, and the buildings within them are a chaotic mess of conflicting architectures. I catch a glimpse of glass-sculpture homes and spray painted huts occupying the same street, along with massive monuments to art and history.


    I see flower stands. Little bakeries. Tiny communities dedicated, surprisingly, to the preservation of life¡ªand nearby, secondary communities to welcome them into death, once they reach their natural ends.


    Life and death in harmony. Huh.


    All of this is far, far more information than Inspect has ever given me about a specific skill. It''s more information than Inspect has ever given me about potential skills. Planetary history aside, Estat''s Heart and the concept it held was originally simple: not a cessation of life, but a continuation after life.


    But the Trialgoer on Estat...


    He hadn''t understood that.


    The Thread resonates.


    That''s the thing about the Interface and its Integration of planetary Hearts. A Trialgoer''s understanding of a concept warps the Heart, and the Heart warps the skills that go into the Interface. His Trial had been designed to make him see all the inhabitants of Estat as monsters. He''d come from a world where the undead were evil¡ªa sign of the workings of demons, or some cultural equivalent.


    And the objective of his Trial had been simple: Slaughter. They were monsters that claimed the civilization that lived on that planet, he was told. He didn''t question. He just... went with it.


    And so Death Fog emerged as his first Rank S skill. It created the first crack in Estat''s Heart. Allowed the Interface to begin its infestation and integration.


    I think, for the first time, I''m starting to understand the role the Interface plays in all this, and while the Integrators are certainly abusing it for their own ends...


    The Interface isn''t some force for good, either.


    It''s interesting that Inspect is telling me that. It''s intentional, too. It... what, noticed an opportunity? The skill feels almost like my other skills did, back when they were protecting me from the impact of my double-layer shift¡ªlike it''s gained some modicum of intelligence. Not a lot of it, but enough for it to try to help me on its own.


    There''s another thing Inspect is telling me, in concert with Premonition: I cannot counter this. Not as I am. My skills are based on physical defense. Firmament Control can blunt the force of it, but it won''t stop the Firmament from touching me and seeping into me. I can use the Knight, but there isn''t enough time for the transformation. Distorted Crux won''t affect the speed of the Firmament. It''ll just pass through Barrier.


    Phaseslip will make it physical, and allow me some measure of resistance, but not enough.


    Field of Immortality would work, but only sort of. It runs parallel to Death Fog. Our bodies would decay, but we would remain alive.


    I''m out of options. I flick through my options. If I run, it''ll leave Guard and Novi to its ravages, and that isn''t acceptable¡ª


    "Ethan!" Guard calls, and my gaze snaps to him. My eyes widen.


    Inspect supplies to me exactly what he''s doing.


    Rank S. Breath of Life.


    A skill he''d... created? Inspect tells me that this skill is new, that He-Who-Guards has just now fabricated a new skill entirely unknown to the Interface. There''s a pure, white-green aura around Guard, flowing like a sphere around him, and any hint of Death Firmament just wisps into nothing when it touches it.


    Perfectly canceled. Perfectly negated. I don''t even know how he managed¡ª


    "Ethan, get in here!" Guard calls again, sounding exasperated.


    Oh. Right. I push my astonishment to the side and Warpstep, feeling the aura flood into me.


    Then I take a deep breath, my eyes widening. It''s like an instinctive response. The aura feels good. It''s a warmth that spreads into my bones, giving me a sense of relaxation I don''t think I''ve been able to have since the start of the damn Trial.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    A bit dangerous, really, to relax like this in the middle of a fight, but it''s not like the Regrets are actively attacking while they''re channeling the skill.


    "...Ethan?" Guard asks, looking at me with concern. I realize I''m smiling a little loopily and cough. Probably a strange expression to wear when surrounded by a deadly skill.


    "Sorry, wasn''t expecting... whatever this is." I wrap my hand in a bit of Phaseshift, then reach out toward the aura Guard is projecting; Life Firmament loops around my fingers like a purring cat. A very tiny purring cat. "It feels good. Like I''m taking a hot shower. Haven''t had the chance to take many of those since coming here."


    He-Who-Guards makes a curious sort of noise from his vocalizer. "You should have asked. There are facilities in Isthanok."


    A pause. "I didn''t think about that," I admit after a moment. I don''t think I''ve spared much thought toward taking a break, but this aura is rapidly convincing me I might need one.


    I mean, I took showers. I just forgot that hot water... existed. Most of my baths have been in one of the many rivers winding through Hestia.


    "The next time we are close," He-Who-Guards says, "I will make sure to get you access to Whisper''s facilities."


    "I appreciate it," I say dryly. It does sound pretty good. Novi is staring between the two of us, clearly not understanding the conversation, but apparently happy to just listen for now. She looks like she''s bursting with questions, though. "How did you even do this? Guard, this is... It''s the equivalent of a Rank S skill. That you just created. Out of thin air."


    Guard''s optic flickers. "It is?" he asks, his voice uncertain. "I did not... I simply acted. It is something I have been trying to do since the fight with the Seedmother."


    I whistle. That''s not long ago at all. "Well, good work," I say. "I didn''t really have a counter for gaseous attacks like this."


    He-Who-Guards hesitates, then eventually gives me an oddly stiff nod. "I am glad I could help."


    I can''t help but eye him for a moment. "You know I admire you too, right? I mean, considering what you''ve been through..."


    Guard says nothing, but his fans whirr a little faster. I have no idea what to make of it, so I turn my gaze back onto the horde of incoming Regrets.


    That Death Fog skill isn''t likely to be the last trick they have up their sleeves. Far into the distance, deeper into that tunnel, I can feel something else coming.


    I just hope we''re ready for it.


    <hr>


    Rhoran was infuriated.


    He''d made changes, and Ethan hadn''t even run into them. And what he hadn''t anticipated was that his changes had created Threads. Those weren''t supposed to show up on Trialgoer planets! They were reserved for fourth-layer practitioners and above, even among Trialgoers. Part of that was because they were dangerous for anyone below the fourth to access them¡ªtheir Firmament wouldn''t hold steady.


    The other part was that Threads allowed practitioners to grow way too fast. Almost fast enough to escape the bounds of the Interface.


    Bah. It wouldn''t be a problem, Rhoran told himself. Ethan would have to not only be able to feel a Thread and access it, he''d have to do it without hurting himself. He doubted that would happen.


    And then it did.


    Rhoran fumed.


    It would be fine, he told himself. The changes he''d made would still matter. It would affect the end of this stage, the start of the next, and the effect would cascade. His trap would still work.


    Even if Ethan didn''t encounter anything else, the thing he''d need to fight next... no Trialgoer could survive something like that. Not even a fourth-layer Trialgoer.


    After all, no Trialgoer had ever managed to gain access to a Talent.


    <hr>


    "I''m surprised you''re willing to just have a conversation about this," Ahkelios remarked.


    They were sitting in Novi''s apartment. It was a pleasant place, all things considered¡ªit had been a long time since Ahkelios had been anywhere he thought he could remotely consider a home. Even back in Isthanok, he and Ethan had mostly slept in cramped spaces near the rebel workshops. In the Cliffside Crows, they''d slept in the huts the crows lived in, made of twigs and branches.


    This was more... well, it wasn''t familiar, exactly. It was pretty different from what he remembered of his home. But it was still nice¡ªwell lit, cushions, paintings on the walls. Ahkelios couldn''t remember the last time he''d been somewhere properly comfortable that wasn''t also ostentatious.


    Honorable mention to Whisper, who was most of the ostentatiousness he''d encountered.


    "Well," Zhir said. "My threats would hardly be effective if I made them miles away from the children I''m threatening." He poured out a steaming cup of what Ahkelios thought looked like tea, then offered one to him.


    "You brought me to them," Ahkelios pointed out, accepting the tea. "I could stop you."


    "Could you?" Zhir asked. "How powerful are you, exactly?"


    Ahkelios could sense this was genuine curiosity¡ªit was part of the bond they shared. There was another side to it, though; Zhir wanted to see exactly how much power he would hold once he''d integrated Ahkelios as his Remnant.


    That was kind of the rub of it. They were both Remnants, really. Ahkelios was bound to Ethan. Zhir was bound to the Empty City. They''d had very different experiences, and held very different beliefs, in large part because of how much Ahkelios''s experiences were now shaped by what he''d been through with Ethan.


    Zhir hadn''t experienced any of that. He''d been stuck in a decaying city for what felt like centuries.


    "Don''t know," Ahkelios answered with a shrug. "I''m pretty sure I''m stronger than when we were alive, but only if I''m borrowing Ethan''s skills."


    That part was pointed. Sever the connection¡ªtake over Ahkelios¡ªand Zhir would gain not even a fraction of what Ahkelios held. Zhir hummed in thought for a moment.


    "I don''t think that''ll be a problem," he said eventually. "I can always just take his core."


    "What?" Ahkelios asked, wondering if he''d misheard. Zhir glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow.


    "Take his core. You don''t know about¡ª" Zhir laughed. "Of course you don''t. I only ever saw it when other people ran this dungeon. When you kill a Trialgoer, you get to take their core. It''s all the Firmament they''ve gathered, all the skills they''ve gained."


    "Naru didn''t mention this," Ahkelios said numbly. That meant¡ªthat meant the Hestian Trialgoers would really want Ethan, didn''t it? Why hadn''t they come for Ethan already?


    "Naru?" Zhir cocked his head, and Ahkelios felt him forcing his way into their shared bond for information; he winced, trying to keep him out, but to no avail. The Remnant was strong, and his distance from Ethan meant he couldn''t quite muster up all the Firmament he normally had available.


    Ethan was in the middle of a fight, he could tell that much. If he just held on long enough¡ªdelayed long enough¡ªthere was the possibility that he''d end this stage of the Trial before Zhir ever got the chance to affect it.


    "Oh, the bird." Zhir rolled his eyes. "No, I doubt most of Hestia''s Trialgoers would know about it. Not the lower five, anyway. They''re still only at the second layer. You gotta hit fourth layer at minimum to drop your core. I doubt many of Hestia''s Trialgoers have achieved that. They''re kind of weak in the wider galaxy."


    "They''re what?" Ahkelios frowned. That wasn''t how he''d heard things. But then he processed what Zhir said¡ª


    "You aren''t going to be able to get Ethan''s skills from him, if that''s the case," Ahkelios mumbled. Zhir raised an eyebrow at him.


    "Why? Because he''s a third layer?" he laughed. "I can mimic the bond you have with him and just play your role¡ªI''ll have your memories. I can help him get to the fourth layer before I take his core."


    "What makes you think you''d be strong enough to beat him?" Ahkelios asked. Ethan was strong. Third was farther than most Trialgoers ever got.


    Wasn''t it?


    "No, you''re right, it is," Zhir said, amused. "We never got past... what, second, I think? As far as I remember. Not that I have all my memories."


    "Second," Ahkelios agreed. He was pretty sure that was the farthest they''d gotten.


    "But you''re uniquely placed," Zhir continued. "You have a link right inside his core. No one develops defenses to Firmament attacks from within. It just doesn''t happen."


    Ahkelios was really starting to hate this guy. Which said a lot, because this guy was himself. "And you want me to just let you do that?" he demanded.


    "Well, yeah." Zhir shrugged. "How else are we going to get our life back? Don''t you miss our home? Our people? Don''t tell me you''d rather we get stuck serving some human."


    "I''m not serving him," Ahkelios growled.


    "Even better," Zhir said. "Then this shouldn''t be a problem for you, should it? Just let me kill you and take over your Remnant."


    Ahkelios stared at him in disbelief.


    "I can see this will take you more time to process," Zhir said. "Want some more tea?"

 173 — Book 3, Chapter 32 — An Abstract Problem

    It takes a while, but we settle into a pattern.


    It turns out that the Regrets in the second stage only know one skill¡ªDeath Fog¡ªand as difficult as it is for me to counter, He-Who-Guards and his Breath of Life keeps us perfectly safe while the skill is running. It helps that the Regrets don''t seem to be able to move while they''re channeling the skill; the fight would be a lot more complicated if they tried to attack us at the same time.


    Though given the way they''re escalating, they might not be far off from trying exactly that. I grimace a little at the thought. I can fight at range, but not nearly as effectively as I should be able to.


    For now, I take point. While Death Fog isn''t in effect, I rush forward, tanking hits and punching back; even when they escalate to Rank A, they fold easily with the combined impact of Firmament Control and Phaseslip. When they hit Rank S, I fold in a little power from Amplified Gauntlet and the Knight, and they break apart beneath my fists.


    All the while, I gather credits.


    [You have defeated a Lasting Regret (Rank S)! +30 Strength credits. +16 Durability credits. +20 Reflex credits. +31 Speed credits. +16 Firmament credits.]


    Different names now, I notice. And those credits are more than enough now to trigger another skill collection if I really need it, although I save it for now. I suspect if I tried to collect a skill now it''d offer me something akin to Death Fog, and as powerful as that skill is, it doesn''t really fit in with the rest of my kit.


    Something for range would be nice, though. Something that lets me deal hits from afar. Maybe if I practice a few long-distance shots, do something with Firmament Control to mimic the effect of a fireball or something similar¡ª


    "They''re casting!" Guard calls out, and I immediately retreat back into the bubble of safety provided by his Breath of Life.


    "They are getting stronger," Novi observes nervously. The silence of the bubble and the immutable darkness of Death Fog around us is probably getting to her. "You are hurt."


    I blink. "What? No, I''m not," I say¡ªbut she reaches out, and her fingers graze over a long, jagged cut running from my elbow to my shoulder. I hiss, jerking back, and she bows her head in apology.


    "You must be more careful," she says. "I suspect injuries inflicted by these wisps are harder to notice."


    I guess I can''t argue with that. Now that she isn''t touching it, the pain''s once more faded into a dull throb, barely noticeable under the rush of adrenaline. Without the protection of Premonition, I might have been hit far more and not even noticed; even with it this escaped my attention.


    He-Who-Guards reaches out, his attention focused on the wound. "Allow me," he says quietly.


    Some of the Life Firmament around us flows into the cut, and we watch as flesh stitches itself together. Once his attention is focused on it, it happens in seconds, though the bubble we''re in is noticeably smaller. Right¡ªnow that I think about it, Breath of Life is probably a healing skill. It''s just that most of its power is focused on defending us from Death Fog.


    "That''s going to be useful," I say. "Thanks, Guard."


    He blinks at me, optic shuttering shut for a moment. For some reason, I feel like he took what I just said very seriously. "You are welcome."


    And just like that, the fight continues. The Regrets aren''t escalating quite as quickly anymore¡ªthe next wave is the same set of Rank S monsters, marginally more powerful but not quite outside the realm of what I can handle yet. Weaker than the Seedmother by far, thankfully, despite the rank; part of it is probably the skill they''re able to cast.


    We get farther into the tunnel. It begins to narrow, and I sense glimpses of Firmament around us¡ªthe bustling of First Sky right above. I frown.


    "Aren''t we supposed to be sealed off from the city?" I ask, turning my gaze to Novi.


    "We are," she says. "Why do you ask?"


    "Because I can sense it," I say. "The Firmament above us."


    Novi frowns herself. "That should not be possible," she says slowly. "The tunnels are fully shielded."


    "Maybe this area is damaged?" I ask. I look up, but it''s hard to see in the dimness of the tunnel¡ªbarely any lights are working now. Novi shakes her head.


    "I will send in a report," she says, sounding troubled. "The shielding should not fail at any point. Such a failure could spell disaster for the city."


    "Disaster?" I raise an eyebrow. "What kind of experiments are there in this Shadowed Laboratory?"


    "We work with many artifacts, some excavated and others presented by the gods," Novi answers. "They are not built to cause harm, but on occasion..."


    "Right. I get the picture," I say, though I''m well aware I don''t sound entirely convinced. More and more I''m beginning to question exactly what Novi means by these gods¡ªthough this is perhaps not the best time to question her.


    Especially since the waves are starting to change.


    There are fewer and fewer Regrets each time, and while they''re individually stronger, they aren''t strong enough to make up for the loss in numbers. Soon, each wave is coming in sets of five, then four, then three...


    Firmament stops dripping from the ceiling. I glance at the Interface, a thought occuring to me.


    These waves are almost like a countdown.


    [Charge the Seed: 99/100]


    Exactly like a countdown.


    I come to a stop, suddenly wary. There''s something in the tunnel ahead. Something so powerful it''s setting my skills ablaze. Premonition is screaming a warning with more intensity than I''ve ever felt.


    Direction and intensity. That''s all the skill is supposed to tell me. The worst it''s ever been is with the asteroid from Isthanok, and even then it felt like standing in front of an oncoming train.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    This is...


    It feels like I''m standing in front of something that could end me in an instant. In front of death. In front of extinction. Premonition screams at me with the clearest warning it''s ever given me.


    In front of you lies the end of all things.


    Novi whimpers. I hear the clunk of metal on concrete, and I turn just enough to see that Guard has fallen to a knee¡ªhis Firmament is flickering wildly, and the Breath of Life he''s trying to hold up is wicking away nearly as fast as he can conjure it.


    What the hell is this?


    I''m still standing, but only barely. Whatever this is, it feels like my entire body is caught in the grasp of a river. I have to lock every muscle to stay in place, and even then, it burns. It burns like I''m standing next to a miniature sun, the force of it transformed into hammers that try to force me back.


    All this, and I can''t even see what we''re fighting yet. It''s hiding in the darkness, too far away to see. This much of an escalation doesn''t feel right, even for the Interface.


    It feels like something''s gone very, very wrong.


    "Abstraction." The Knight within me is suddenly alert, hissing with anger. I feel it reaching out to me, and I accept the help without hesitation; I feel the Knight''s strength flood into my limbs. The pain of the transformation this time is nothing in comparison to what I''m facing.


    "You know what this is?" I ask quietly.


    "It is an Abstraction." The Knight''s response is a low growl. "It is an abomination."


    "I might need more of an explanation than that if we''re going to fight it," I mutter. The presence in front of me increases, and I grit my teeth as I''m forced to take a step back in turn. Not voluntarily. It just feels like... the universe bends, and suddenly I''m one step back from where I''m supposed to be.


    "We cannot fight it." The Knight is so certain about this that it makes my heart drop¡ªit''s never backed down from a challenge before. "It is a concept made real. A hole in the universe. You cannot defeat it any more than you can defeat the rising of the sun or the coming of the tide."


    And yet something about the way it says that...


    "You want to try anyway?" I ask. I feel the Knight pause for a second, and then I get the sharp impression of a grin, wild and ferocious.


    "You," it says, "are a good host."


    I stare down the tunnel. Whatever''s down there is taking its sweet time in coming to meet us, and if it''s going to give us that time, then I''m going to make use of it. I glance behind me.


    Novi is shaking. She''s curled in on herself, her eyes wide and blank; if I can barely handle this, then I''m not surprised that a civilian can''t think straight. He-Who-Guards is doing his best to hold it together, but even he can''t quite hide the way his optic flickers in fear. In spite of this, he''s doing what he can to reassure Novi and calm her down.


    I don''t want to let them down.


    "Alright," I say. I feel the Knight''s attention on me¡ªit''s waiting for a plan. "Tell me everything you know about these Abstractions."


    <hr>


    Ahkelios watched as Novi''s children played.


    They were good children, he thought. Young as they were¡ªthough he had no idea how young they actually were, considering he had no idea how scirix ages worked in general¡ªthey were kind to one another. The older one would play any game the younger one asked him to, even when the games were a little silly.


    Sometimes the games weren''t silly. Sometimes they would engage in a deeply philosophical conversation for all of five minutes and give Ahkelios a severe form of whiplash. He didn''t know if that was normal for children or if it was just these two in particular; maybe they were older than he thought.


    Neither of them seemed bothered by Ahkelios or Zhir. Ahkelios thought he caught the older of the two listening in on them every so often, but they didn''t react to anything Zhir said, so he figured they probably weren''t paying that much attention.


    "You don''t miss home?" Zhir asked.


    "Of course I do," Ahkelios hissed. He just needed to delay a little longer, he told himself. He didn''t know what was going on, but he could tell Ethan was about to get into something big. "I don''t miss it so much that I''d betray my closest friend."


    "Closest?" Zhir raised an eyebrow. "Are we including friends from back home?"


    "Yes," Ahkelios responded immediately. He didn''t even need to think about it.


    "Even Rhiitara?" Zhir asked, and Ahkelios froze.


    He hadn''t remembered the name until now. It confirmed that Zhir had memories he didn''t. But Rhii¡ª


    He closed his eyes. Remembered the moment he''d failed a Ritual objective. Remembered the way reality had just torn open. He caught a glimpse of a half-dozen different worlds, then, a half-dozen different Trials. The blowback from his failure...


    It burned right through them all. Including Rhii.


    "That isn''t a fair question," Ahkelios growled out.


    "I''d say it''s perfectly fair," Zhir countered. "I want you to give up your life. You want me to give up mine. Are we really so different?"


    "I could leave you alone," Ahkelios said. "I don''t have to take your Remnant."


    Zhir snorted. "And leave me to rot in the Empty City," he said. "One way or another, only one of us is leaving. I''m being polite¡ª" A trickle of deadly Firmament sharpened to a point flowed into his arm. "But I don''t have to be."


    Ahkelios froze. He could fight him. But to do it here? With the children?


    "Besides," Zhir said. The power vanished, and Ahkelios forced himself to relax again, though he remained on his guard. "Your Ethan..."


    Zhir glanced away, frowning. "Now that''s unusual," he muttered. "Oh, now he''s really gonna die. Unless you let me help him."


    "What are you talking about?" Ahkelios asked. Dread rose in his throat¡ªhe was connected enough with Zhir that he could tell he wasn''t lying.


    "Abstractions are terrible enemies," Zhir said casually. "Not something you can fight without some very specific knowledge. But, you know, I already told you I have to help Ethan get to at least the fourth layer, so you know I''ll help him this much. What do you say?"


    Ahkelios tried to find the lie. He couldn''t. He opened his mouth to speak¡ª


    A small, clear voice interrupted them.


    "Our household doesn''t take kindly to threats," the older child said. Juri. There was a steady look on his face, and he pointed what looked like a wooden sword at Zhir¡ªexcept, Ahkelios realized, it wasn''t a wooden sword at all. That thing was full to bursting with Firmament.


    Zhir didn''t have Ethan''s senses, but Ahkelios did. Or rather, he could channel them to a limited extent. He looked around. The two of them had been playing random board games, fiddling with devices.


    Every single one of them was full of intense, blazing Firmament.


    Yarun, the younger child, pressed a switch¡ªand thick ropes suddenly shot out from each of the ''games'', wrapping around Zhir in a tight, steady lock.


    Ahkelios stared. These were children? They''d been listening. They''d planned a trap. He supposed it wasn''t all that surprising that Novi would keep some defensive tools in her home, but this?


    He glanced at the older of the two children again. Juri, his name was. He didn''t look away from Zhir for even a moment, and the tip of his sword¡ªwhich was really more of a Firmament blaster¡ªblazed bright.


    "Who are you," Juri said. "And what did you do with Uncle Zhir?"


    "And tell us about these Abstraction things!" Yarun added, tugging on his older brother''s elbow. Juri considered this for a moment, then nodded.


    "Yes. And tell us about those."

 174 — Book 3, Chapter 33 — All-Seeing Eye

    Abstractions, I''m told, are the product of another Talent. It''s a counterpart to my ability to Anchor, in a way¡ªan Anchor changes an aspect of reality and grounds it into the world, and an Abstraction takes an aspect of reality and rips it out, giving it life and shape and presence beyond what it should have.


    The problem with Abstraction? There''s no way to control what''s created. It''s an incredibly dangerous Talent that more often than not kills the people that unlock it, in large part because they aren''t usually Abstracting concepts that are safe to be around.


    Part of that is the nature of the Trials. Anyone that unlocks that particular Talent is usually in the midst of combat, which rather predictably causes them to accidentally Abstract concepts of Violence, War, or Death.


    Unfortunately for those Trialgoers, none of those concepts are particularly amenable to the whole idea of life.


    The good news is that you can outlast an Abstraction. They don''t and can''t stick around forever. Eventually, they get pulled back into the fold of the universe, their presence and power fading.


    The bad news is... Well, people don''t generally live long enough to see that happen. More often than not, unless there''s a fifth-layer practitioner around to handle them, they tear through all life in their general vicinity.


    So that''s fun. Third-layer practitioner or not, I''ve been told in no uncertain terms that the power I''ve gathered so far won''t be enough to deal with this.


    Which brings up the question of why the Interface is throwing it at me. Without Integrator interference, it''s never given me challenges that are outright impossible¡ªnot unless I lead myself into them.


    "We do not have time for this," the Knight reminds me.


    Right. Back to the problem at hand.


    Abstractions are almost impossible to fight directly. There''s a weight and presence to higher-level Firmament that can affect them¡ªthat''s the reason fifth-level practitioners and above can deal with them. Anything less and the practitioner''s Firmament just isn''t enough to make an impact.


    But it''s a little more involved than that, the Knight explains. There''s a sort of rock-paper-scissors element to it. An Abstraction is more easily affected by Firmament of a type that opposes them, regardless of its level; Firmament type is, apparently, in large part created by fragments of abstracted concepts that lie within it.


    Try as I might, I can''t quite break apart my Firmament sense enough to find these fragments that the Knight''s talking about. There are moments where I feel like I''m almost able to glimpse something, but they''re gone almost as soon as I can grasp them¡ªwhatever they are, they''re apparently beyond my ability to sense.


    For now, at least.


    Either way, I trust that they''re there. It explains in part why Guard''s Breath of Life can provide any defense at all. The Abstraction is wearing it down nearly as quickly as Guard can generate it, but the fact that it''s doing anything at all...


    The question that remains is what type of Abstraction we''re dealing with. Breath of Life''s effect on it indicates that it''s probably Death or something similar, but the Knight insists that it isn''t¡ªan abstraction of Death would likely have already killed us.


    "But something similar," it concedes. "Something close enough."


    Close enough is going to be the best I''ve got to work with. I can''t quite tease out what I''m up against just by feeling for it, and the Interface isn''t any use here; it only gives me a name once I''ve defeated something. But if Life Firmament is enough opposed to it that it can provide us some defense...


    Time to break out an old tool.


    "Guard," I say quietly. "Can I borrow some of your Firmament?"


    He-Who-Guards glances at me and gives me a tense nod. It takes some effort for him¡ªI can hear the whine from his systems¡ªbut he manages to provide a single wisp of Life Firmament that isn''t immediately sucked up by the Abstraction''s mere presence; I bind it to myself with a touch of Firmament Control, then take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus.


    The way I see it, the skills I have right now can''t deal with an Abstraction of any level, let alone whatever we''re facing. I''m not sure it would be enough even if I had skills composed purely of Life Firmament. But something the Knight said stuck out to me.


    Abstraction and Anchoring are counterpart Talents. I don''t have the ability to create an Abstraction¡ªbut I do have the ability to Anchor.


    "You want to Anchor Life into your skills?" The Knight sounds almost impressed. "That will not be easy. Skills are already fixed; to Anchor something into them a second time..."


    "I think I can do it," I say, "if I use the All-Seeing Eye."


    Technically, the Inspiration is meant to help me combine skills. It exposes a skill construct on a level beyond what I can normally sense. More than that, it exposes the gaps in a skill construct¡ªplaces where another skill might be able to slot in. Normally they''re shapes too complex for me to be able to break down, but with the All-Seeing Eye, I can see where they fit. Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.


    It occurs to me that one day I might not need it anymore. If I can develop my sense of Firmament enough, if I can puzzle these skills apart and figure out this underlying connection I seem to have found... I might be able to manipulate skills much more freely.


    But that''s for the future. For now, I need the All-Seeing Eye and its ability to highlight the gaps in a skill. If I can find a way to combine my skills with the sample of Breath of Life I''m holding...


    All-Seeing Eye.


    Yellow fire blazes into existence on the left side of my visor, and reality peels away to reveal Firmament in sharp focus.


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    It isn''t quite enough. Breath of Life is blurry, faded¡ªthe skill isn''t entirely my own, and it''s created from a circuit rather than a construct. But maybe...


    Firmament Sight.


    Another layer on top of it all. The Firmament I''m holding sharpens even further, just enough for me to make out where it might fit in with other skills.


    "I don''t wish to rush you," Guard says. There''s a touch of nerves in his voice, and at the same time, what feels like... faith. "But it''s getting closer."


    "How close?" I ask.


    "It''s a few minutes away," he says. "I''ll warn you when it is close."


    "Thank you."


    It''s still taking its time. The more time it gives me, the more I''ll be able to prepare.


    First and easiest. Crystallized Barrier isn''t the same as Barrier, but it''s still easy enough to slot another element into it.


    [Crystallized Barrier] + [Breath of Life]


    [You have created Life Dome (Rank A) (Temporary)!]


    I frown at the notice. It''s not good enough. The skills are combined, but not completely¡ªpart of the problem is that Breath of Life isn''t my skill. I''m combining the skills in theory, and the Interface is trying to fill in the gaps...


    But I''m not done yet, am I? This isn''t going to work if I don''t make the Life in these skills real. If I don''t Anchor them into reality with enough strength to oppose an Abstraction.


    I focus my will like a hammer. I still don''t completely understand what I''m doing with Anchoring, but I can feel the edges of the skill¡ªfuzzy, undefined, not quite there...


    I bring it into being. I force it to change. My will creates a weight, and the world bends to accommodate what I''ve brought forth.


    [Life Dome (Rank A) (Temporary) has been upgraded to Crystallized Life (Rank S)!]


    Better.


    Next is my primary offensive skill. It''s harder to find, but I see it after a moment of examination: Amplification Gauntlet takes my strength and amplifies it. I just need to change what it takes.


    [Amplification Gauntlet] + [Breath of Life]


    [You have created Life Infusion (Rank A) (Temporary)!]


    One more time. I need to Anchor the Life in the skill. I need it to channel life into a solid, amplified point, powerful enough to damage an Abstraction. I will the Anchor into being¡ª


    [Life Infusion (Rank A) (Temporary) has been upgraded to Vital Blow (Rank S)!]


    Better.


    I''m distantly aware that there''s a throbbing in my skull. Anchoring isn''t something that I''ve practiced extensively; the knowledge that there are consequences to failing prevented me from openly experimenting as much as I would''ve liked to. This is probably straining something I''m not supposed to strain.


    "You have done well," the Knight says, sounding impressed. "I did not think you would succeed... With this, we may have a chance."


    Except a part of me isn''t satisfied with this. I''m going up against something that requires a fifth-layer practitioner. Am I really going to go at this with just two Rank S skills that might be able to hurt it?


    "Ethan?" The Knight sounds concerned now.


    The point of power is to protect those around me. I told myself I''d gain enough strength to never have to make a hard choice. That goal is a long way away, but if I don''t hold on to it now...


    He-Who-Guards is giving this everything he has. This isn''t even his fight. He could have walked away from it¡ªhe didn''t need to join me. But it''s only because he did that I have a chance at all in this fight.


    "Ethan. I do not recommend pushing this further. Anchoring requires the force of your entire soul." The Knight''s voice is a stern warning. It''s probably the most concerned I''ve ever heard it. It usually relishes a challenge.


    I can sense Ahkelios through our bond. The distance strains it, but there''s a peculiar mixture of anger and hope; I don''t have to be able to see what he''s doing to know that he''s fighting his own fight. He''s confronting himself, and part of the reason he''s doing it is me. Because I convinced him I would fight for him and with him, if the time came.


    I look at the two skills I''ve created. All I can think is that they''re not enough.


    "Ethan," the Knight tries again.


    And then there''s Naru.


    Truth be told, he doesn''t matter that much to me, but what does matter to me is that he tried. More than that, Tarin and Mari see an opportunity to reconcile with their son. It''s an opportunity I never got with my own parents. Might never get to have, with the way the Trials and Integration are going.


    Maybe I''m being a fool. I could lose this stage and lose nothing. I''ve done enough. I''ve tried.


    But my heart disagrees. And with that disagreement¡ª


    [You have touched on a Thread for the third time. You have gained access to the Thread of Insight.]


    It''s all so clear now. Exactly what I need to Anchor. The core of the skill, the center of the pattern.


    [You have created a Submerged skill: Great Filter (Rank F)]


    [You have created a Submerged skill: Primordial Foray (Rank F)]


    I stare at the Interface, breathing heavily. The first thing I notice is the rank¡ªit nearly makes my heart drop. But then I catch on to the Submerged part and freeze.


    That''s how the Interface rates imbuements, isn''t it? What''s that word doing here?


    "Ethan, we''re out of time," He-Who-Guards says. His voice is strained. I look up, my eyes adjusting to the darkness, and he''s right. The Abstraction is here. A terrible, broken thing, like staring at a wound in reality. It mimics a humanoid, bipedal form, but something tells me that appearance is no more real than a projection on a screen. It''s just there so my mind can make sense of it.


    I reach inside my soul and flinch.


    Above all the rest of my skills, Great Filter and Primordial Foray hang like miniature suns. The rest of them look like mere engines in comparison¡ªthese new ones...


    I don''t know what I just did, but I have a feeling I''m about to find out.


    Just activating one takes every drop of Firmament I have.


    Primordial Foray.


    <hr>


    Somewhere in the space between spaces, Kauku sat up, intrigued.


    Ethan was fascinating. Out of his depth in almost every way imaginable, certainly¡ªhe couldn''t remember the last time a practitioner had figured out Submerged skills, let alone a Trialgoer still going through their Trial¡ªbut fascinating, nonetheless.


    "What an Heir," he muttered to himself, unable to stop himself from grinning. "But I''m afraid you''re too far ahead again, Ethan. How are you going to get yourself out of this one?"


    Maybe he could help. Toss his Heir a freebie. Ethan was already exceeding all expectations helping him, after all; it was only fair if he gave something back. What was it the humans called it? A quid-pro-quo?


    "What do you think, Ira?" he asked into the darkness. There was, of course, no response; Kauku hadn''t expected one.


    But with the way things were going... well, if Ethan didn''t burn himself out, he''d get to see the other Scions again soon enough.


    Kauku sighed, tapping bony fingers on an empty plane of the void. "I''m not supposed to root for you, you know," he said. "But damn if you don''t make it hard."


    He''d do nothing for now. He''d watch. See how Ethan dealt with this.


    If he was right, he''d get his chance to step in.

 175 — Book 3, Chapter 34 — Household Battle

    It is the 4,900th day of Awakening.


    A hundred days have passed since the last Record. The decay has grown exponentially ¡ª we are no longer able to see outside our city. A pitch-black darkness surrounds us. Everything within, however, remains perfectly lit. The Seers are baffled, and the citizens are doing their best to contain their panic.


    My sons have taken on leadership roles in the crisis. I could not be more proud of them. The elder, Juri, now helps to break up the conflicts that have been erupting more frequently between our people. Tensions are high, and I cannot blame them.


    The younger, Yarun, has learned medical Firmament techniques, and applies them to healing and preventing the spread of disease. He is a kind man ¡ª I have seen him more than once, both as his patient and as his mother.


    They both seem so tired, but so determined. I wish their lives could be more than this.


    ¡ª6th inscription on First Sky''s final Record


    <hr>


    Zhir found himself annoyed.


    It wasn''t a feeling he was accustomed to. Neither of his selves¡ªnot the part of him that had the true Zhir''s memories and expertise, nor the part of him that was an age-old Remnant that had been stuck in a ruined city for centuries¡ªwere the type to let something so simple slip past them.


    And yet.


    He should''ve known better than to underestimate Novi''s children. His counterpart was a different matter¡ªhe knew himself better than anyone. It didn''t matter how much the other version of him changed from being friends with that human. At the end of the day, he could predict how Ahkelios would act and respond. The bond they shared helped; it was next to impossible for either of them to hide how they were feeling from the other.


    Novi''s children, on the other hand? He''d assumed they would ignore him like they always did. Zhir had memories of babysitting them on many occasions before this one, and he could not remember a single instance of them displaying any level of tactical thinking, let alone enough to set up traps for him while they were out of sight.


    Nor could he remember anything about Novi''s home having defenses like these. What, had she kept secrets from him? He was her best friend!


    Zhir carefully ignored the small voice in his head that was, in fact, quite proud of his best friend and her children.


    He''d been careful to compartmentalize every part of himself that was Zhir. The moment he realized what was happening, the moment he noticed the dungeon reshaping itself... this was his chance, he knew. It had been a long, long time since a Ritual had begun within the Empty City, and just the thought of being able to experience something that wasn''t the same ruined monotony nearly had him salivating.


    He just had to play it smart. Had to take on a role that would be important enough for him to play a part, but not so important that the Ritual itself would try to reject him. Zhir was placed perfectly for that, and really, it had been almost alarmingly easy to just slot himself in his place. It was almost like the Ritual''s usual defenses were distracted with something else.


    Though even then, Zhir couldn''t claim the transition had been perfect. No matter how much older and more experienced he was, there was some personality bleedthrough¡ªhe hadn''t been able to completely suppress the original Zhir''s identity. It was one of the reasons he now thought of himself with Zhir''s name, even though he knew he was Ahkelios.


    Well, that and things like names had lost meaning for him years ago. It was probably one of the reasons that part of Zhir had been able to assert itself so strongly; centuries alone was enough to erode any emotional tie he still had with his name. What use did he have for one when there was no one else around?


    The point was that¡ªname aside¡ªhe''d subsumed Zhir''s identity almost entirely. He knew everything the scirix would have known, including how capable Novi and her family were, and he should have been prepared for something like this.


    Zhir glared at the ropes binding him like disbelieving them with sufficient force would dispel them. No such luck.


    Worse, from what he could tell, these things had a suppressive effect. Try as he might, he couldn''t sharpen his Firmament to a blade, something that normally came to him as easy as breathing; if he could, he would''ve cut through these ropes in an instant. Something about them... what, disrupted his connection with his Firmament? Enough that he couldn''t seem to call up any of his skills.


    "Clever kids," Zhir grunted, mostly to himself. Yarun still seemed pleased by the compliment. Juri was... comparatively steadfast¡ªhe kept the blaster pointed straight at him. Zhir noticed that the kid''s off-hand was trembling slightly, but not the one that held the blaster; that one stayed perfectly steady.


    Well-trained, a part of himself thought proudly. Zhir quashed it.


    "I''m surprised you went for your uncle and not the shiny, glowing bug-thing," Zhir said, trying to buy time. Ahkelios bristled at the description, making him smirk¡ªit seemed the other version of him was still at least a little vain¡ªand Juri and Yarun exchanged glances.


    "I think he''s cool," Yarun announced loudly.


    "And I trust my brother''s instincts," Juri said, his voice dry. "That and you weren''t exactly quiet about your threats."


    "Ah, of course. My mistake." Zhir kept his tone genial and polite; behind his back, he worked at his bonds, testing the ropes to see if they had any give. They were good restraints, but they couldn''t hold him back forever. They had to have a power source of some sort. If he could just tap into his other self''s senses, see where that power source was or how close it was to being depleted...


    He reached out for that shared link and found himself almost immediately rebuffed. Ahkelios glared at him, and Zhir raised an eyebrow. "What, grew a spine?" he scoffed. "You think you can keep me out?"


    "You''re trapped," Ahkelios said evenly. "And I know you as well as you know me. The kids involved themselves. If you get out, you''re not going to let them go free, are you?"


    "If I did, they might be able to tell your human what I''ve done," Zhir answered honestly. He left the bond between them open, practically inviting his counterpart in to look at his thoughts. "It''s not like I want to kill children. You know me better than that."


    "Sure." Ahkelios''s expression didn''t change, and to Zhir''s annoyance, he didn''t so much as glance at their open bond. "Except that means you''re giving me little to no reason to keep you alive."


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    Zhir frowned.


    Ahkelios was serious, as far as he could tell. He''d assumed that his other self was soft. He was soft, from what he''d seen through their link; this other version of him was rotted through with human ideas, believed in things like kindness and freedom and some nonsense about Hestia actually being a beautiful planet. Zhir had no such memories¡ªas far as he was concerned he''d hated nearly every moment he spent on that rock.


    So he hadn''t anticipated the threat. Maybe he didn''t know himself quite as well as he thought. Zhir made an irritated sound in his throat, straining against his bonds again; he heard the whir of machinery as the Firmament draw increased to keep him restrained.


    "Um..." Yarun said. He looked between Ahkelios and Zhir and frowned hard, like he was thinking. "I don''t think we should kill him?"


    He made it sound like a question. Zhir almost said something, but Juri placed a steady hand on his brother''s shoulder and shook his head; his other hand tightened on the blaster. Zhir thought quickly.


    "Kids," he tried. He changed his voice slightly, made it a little kinder, a little softer. "I''m still in here, trying to fight him off! Don''t¡ª"


    Juri''s eyes narrowed. Zhir felt a crackle of Firmament followed by searing pain; he let out a broken shout as pure Firmament tore straight through his arm. This body! When he''d been a Remnant a blast like that would''ve done nothing to him, but now that he''d been reshaped to play this role...


    His Firmament was still strong, but his body was Zhir''s. Weak. That explained how the ropes could hold him down, why they were able to suppress them the way he did. Zhir didn''t quite manage to hide the way his eyes dilated, the way his breathing quickened.


    "Do not," Juri said, his eyes suddenly dark with anger, "pretend to be our uncle. If he could talk he would tell us to end the threat you pose right here and now. I don''t know what''s happening, but I know that much."


    Zhir snarled in response, his heart thundering loud enough that it was all he could hear. Panic stirred within him, dark and unfamiliar.


    "Huh," Ahkelios said softly. The mantis¡ªand how was it fair that it was this version of him that kept their original body? Even as a Remnant all he''d had was a twisted, mutated thing¡ªstepped closer, examining him. "You''re scared."


    "I am not!" Zhir denied vehemently. He jerked against the ropes, angered just by the implication, only to hiss as pain radiated through his arm. He panted and tried to push through it anyway, his vision blurring as blood poured down his arm; he was dimly aware of someone shouting¡ª


    "Stop!" It was the younger of the two brothers. Yarun. Zhir stared at him in a daze. Juri was trying to pull him back, but Yarun had pushed all the way forward and grabbed on to his arm. "You''re only going to make it worse! Stop it!"


    "What do you care," Zhir said. His voice was strangely hoarse.


    "I''m gonna be a doctor one day," Yarun declared. There was a strange intensity in his eyes. He glared at everyone in the room. "I decided. Just now. Which means no one gets hurt while I''m around. And you''re going to shut up while I bandage this."


    Zhir stared. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. Yarun nodded in satisfaction, then turned and marched away, presumably to find some bandages.


    There was a long silence. Zhir considered testing his bonds again.


    He didn''t.


    "I didn''t mean that you were scared of this," Ahkelios said into the silence. "I meant that you''re scared of going back to the Empty City. Of another hundred cycles of nothing."


    Zhir''s breathing quickened slightly, but he said nothing.


    "What are you talking about?" Juri finally asked. "What Empty City?"


    Ahkelios grimaced. "You don''t want to know."


    "I think I do." Juri''s voice was firm.


    "Just tell him," Zhir said. He sounded far more tired than he realized he felt. "The Ritual''s either disrupted or it''s not, at this point. Knowing more isn''t going to make that much of a difference."


    Ahkelios stared at him for a long moment, trying to work out of he was lying. He wasn''t.


    So he did.


    As Yarun bandaged the wound on Zhir''s arm¡ªas Juri aimed a blaster right between his eyes¡ªAhkelios explained to two children the fate of their city.


    To Zhir''s surprise, neither of them stopped what they were doing.


    "Sounds like a lie," Juri said finally. "But if it''s not..."


    "Then it sounds like we can still change things, right?" Yarun didn''t look up from his work. He''d applied some kind of numbing cream¡ªZhir found to his surprise that he could move without it hurting, although the moment he tried Yarun smacked his hand and made him sit still. "This Ritual you mentioned recreates everything. And changes carry forward to the next stage."


    "Maybe it matters, maybe it doesn''t," Juri said. "But I don''t think that changes what we have to do. It just means that now we''re prepared to try."


    Zhir had to admit that that wasn''t the response he''d expected. And there was a grudging respect born out of that¡ªhe didn''t think he could kill either of these two now. Not when he''d seen a glimpse of their spirit.


    "They remind me of home," Zhir said quietly. Ahkelios glanced at him.


    "You''re thinking about¡ª?"


    "Yeah." It felt like an aeon ago, and Zhir couldn''t remember their names or their faces anymore. But he remembered that they''d had friends. Childhood friends that carried a similar optimism all the way into their adulthood and Integration. Juri and Yarun reminded him of them. The few times he''d been able to contact home...


    Zhir couldn''t remember the last time he''d even been able to talk to anyone about home. Ahkelios was different, but even he hadn''t had anyone else understand what they''d lost.


    "I just want to go home," he admitted after a moment. His voice was quiet. Lost.


    "Our home might not even be there anymore," Ahkelios said. Something in Zhir tightened at those words; he hadn''t wanted to hear them.


    "So you''re not even going to try to get back?"


    "I didn''t say that." Ahkelios shook his head. "I will try. And Ethan will help me. We''re going to find out what happened."


    "You really think he''ll do that?" Zhir looked at his counterpart. "He''s got his own planet to worry about."


    "Trust me," Ahkelios said, snorting. "He can care about more than one planet."


    "And if he can''t?"


    "He can." Ahkelios''s gaze didn''t waver. "You don''t know him."


    "And you do."


    "I know enough."


    Zhir didn''t need to tap into their link to see that Ahkelios actually believed that. He tugged briefly at his ropes and paused.


    They were weaker now. He could break free from them if he wanted.


    And then what?


    All he wanted was to see his home again, and if Ahkelios was to be believed...


    "I won''t force you to give up your identity," Zhir said finally. It felt like he was forcing out the words.


    Ahkelios watched him for a moment. "But?"


    "But I won''t give up mine that easily, either." Zhir shrugged, then offered his counterpart a smile. It was a bitter and twisted thing, he knew, but it was the best he could do. "If we integrate, only one of us is coming out as the dominant personality. And I''m not giving mine up to you."


    "I suppose coexistence isn''t a possibility," Ahkelios said dryly. Zhir shook his head.


    "Not for me," he said. "Maybe if I¡ªwe¡ªwere someone else. But I''ll make you a promise, at least."


    Ahkelios raised an eyebrow, waiting.


    "I''ll make sure that friend of yours is safe," Zhir said. "Even if I win. I won''t kill him and steal his core."


    "Very generous of you," Ahkelios said. "I notice you''re not promising not to let him die so you can take the core."


    Zhir shrugged. "Make no mistake," he said. "I''m not your friend. But... I''m tired."


    Ahkelios seemed to understand. He reached out with a hand. "When you''re ready, then."


    Zhir stared at the open hand. His bonds were loose now. He could take this moment to attack.


    He took the hand. "I''m ready," he said.


    And in a scientist''s home, somewhere in the outskirts of First Sky, there was a bright flash of Firmament.

 ANNOUNCEMENT: Book 1 now on KU/Audible!

    Hey all! I want to thank you all again for all the support since I started writing this series¡ªit means the world to me. It¡¯s now finally released on Amazon (KU/Audible) complete with a full professional editing pass and some sick cover art! If you want to help support it, you can check it out on KU and maybe give it a reread. A lot of those old details coming back up again in Book 3, especially with the dungeon arc! Ratings and reviews are also always helpful on Amazon and you don¡¯t even need to buy or download to leave one; sometimes the day 1 reception really defines a launch, haha.


    Here are the links!


    Kindle/KU: https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0D9WKQRWF</a>


    Audible: https://www.audible.com/pd/Die-Respawn-Repeat-Audiobook/B0DCGMJ1X2</a>


    If you can¡¯t, no worries! There are other ways to help out. Spread the word if you can, or just engage with the reddit posts here:


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    https://www.reddit.com/r/ProgressionFantasy/comments/1hb2tpg/die_respawn_repeat_now_out_on_ku_and_audible/</a> https://www.reddit.com/r/litrpg/comments/1hb2upx/die_respawn_repeat_now_out_on_ku_and_audible/</a>


    You have my utmost appreciation either way. Let¡¯s keep this journey going while we can, yeah?


    (If you want to get a paperback, I''m going to talk to my publisher about the cover--I''d intended for the paperback to be the current cover on RR. Just a heads up on that front!)


    </a>

 176 — Book 3, Chapter 35 — Primordial Foray

    It''s hard to describe exactly what happens when I activate the skill.


    Space warps around my fist. That''s one part of the effect. Light bends as it approaches a threshold around my gauntlet and creates a distinctly odd visual effect, complete with a flickering halo created by stray escaping beams. I can feel the impact of it too, just by waving my hand around¡ªthere''s a distinct pulling sensation that accompanies every movement.


    But that''s not all that happens. More significant is the moment I suddenly find myself holding. Caught in the palm of my hand there''s a fragment of... life isn''t the right word for it.


    It''s a fragment of the beginning. A fragment of that primordial soup that began all life. A fragment of a Concept that''s strong enough now that I can feel it¡ªit washes away the lingering stench of death, the oppressive aura that the Abstraction had hanging over us.


    I step forward, and life steps with me.


    There''s a sound that''s somewhere between a crackle and a whisper. Microscopic spores germinate within seconds, hyphae digging into the metal of the walls; stray seeds grow, their roots tearing through the ground with all the force of time compressed into moments. Flowers bloom into bursts of color. I hear Novi letting out a soft gasp. Guard is silent, but his machinery whirs as he processes everything that''s happening.


    It''s taking everything I have to stay standing. To keep this held.


    The Knight within me is working feverishly to gather what Firmament remains in the air and process it; without its help, I think I would have collapsed by now. The body isn''t meant to be quite this empty of Firmament¡ªI''m not meant to have access to a skill of this level. Not yet. It demands more than I have.


    But more than I have is the only thing that''s going to stop an Abstraction, isn''t it? I''ll examine what all this is later. Threads, Submerged skills, Talents... it''s a whole new set of questions, a whole new set of things to understand.


    Right now, though, what''s in front of me threatens everything I''ve achieved this loop. So I take another step forward. It feels like trying to drag myself through a thick slurry¡ªeverything I am is poured into a singular point in my fist, and I''m holding it steady through nothing more than force of will. If I waver for even a moment, this whole thing shatters.


    The Abstraction stands before me. It looks down at me as if confused by my presence. Maybe it''s confused by the fact that I''m able to stand in front of it at all. I get the distinct impression that if anyone else were standing in my place, they would be kneeling.


    Or dead. Either way, they wouldn''t be standing.


    This close to the Abstraction, it''s easier to tell what it is. I almost laugh¡ªprobably would have if it didn''t take so much effort just to maintain the skill, let alone move. The answer should have been obvious. It''s been staring me in the face this whole time.


    This is the Abstraction of Regret. The full manifestation of every ghost that came before it. It makes sense, in a way; First Sky turns into an empty ruin, a city devoid of color and life, with all the efforts made to save it ultimately a failure. What other emotion¡ªwhat other Concept¡ªwould define it at its end?


    Regret is aligned with Death, in some ways, at least here: it came about as a result of the city''s slow death. It''s an insidious thing that eats away at all future possibility if you let it.


    And Life, in the same way, is opposed to it. Life created by He-Who-Guards, of all people. Considering what he''s told me about his past with Whisper, he''s more than familiar with the idea of regret.


    He could have chosen to die. He considered it, even. He lived a tortured existence for too long.


    But there were too many things he knew he would regret.


    It''s fitting, in a way. I bring up a hand, staring at the Abstraction. It stares back mournfully. I''m not sure it even understands what''s going on or why it''s here. It was brought to life to... what, be an obstacle? To be nothing more than an artifact of war?


    "You didn''t deserve this," I say quietly. Mostly because it feels right. If the Knight is right, and Abstractions are created by tearing a Concept loose from the foundations of reality and giving it life, then I can''t imagine it''s anything but confused right now. No wonder it didn''t rush toward me to fight. It''s just... wandering.


    That it kills anything it comes across in that wandering is an unfortunate reality of its existence. In better, different circumstances, it might have been able to become something more.


    I reach out with my empowered hand. The Abstraction flinches away briefly¡ªit can sense that what I''m holding is fundamentally opposed to it in some way, that it has the potential to do harm.


    And then it stops. It stares at me.


    The Abstraction''s physical appearance is nothing more than the projection of a wound in reality, but in that moment, it looks very much like a manifestation of space. I catch a glimpse of cosmic dust past the bones that make up the skull it wears on its head. I see what looks like the embers of a dying star.


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    It was once part of a greater whole. It sees what I have as a path to do so. It''s like the Knight said: Abstractions can''t stick around forever. Eventually, they fade. The universe repairs itself.


    I get the feeling it wants to repair itself a little faster. It reaches out and takes my hand¡ª


    The reaction is near instantaneous. The Concept I''m holding abruptly boils over, taking to the Abstraction with a ferocity that surprises the both of us. It shoots through its arm and then tears through its body, multiplying rapidly and filling it with life; I catch a glimpse of evolution, of moving on, of regret that doesn''t define a life. I''d be worried about the process being painful, but the Abstraction looks down with an expression that''s distinctly...


    Wonder. It looks down at itself with wonder.


    Just for a moment. Then it cracks like glass, starting from the center and spreading through its body. Its physical form breaks apart, no longer able to sustain itself in the chaos of holding two separate, opposing Concepts.


    Just like that, it''s gone. The tunnel is empty, and the oppressive air that''s been hanging around us vanishes like it was never there; the Knight makes a sound of relief. I feel the bone armor melting back into flesh¡ªthe Inspiration is done and will be for a while, I suspect. Apparently I''ve exhausted it. I didn''t even know that was possible.


    "Is it over?" Novi asks. Her voice comes out almost like a squeak, and she clears her throat before she speaks again. "Ahem. That was... remarkably well done. I have yet to see dangers quite like this within First Sky. That was most unusual."


    "It is over," He-Who-Guards confirms. Then he pauses, frowning, and looks to me for confirmation. "I think. Ethan?"


    "Give me a moment," I mumble.


    I''m lying flat on my back. I don''t even remember lying down. Guard walks over to peer at me, concerned. "You are alright?"


    "I''ll be fine," I say. I don''t try to get up, though.


    "You do not look fine," Guard observes.


    "Everything hurts," I grunt. "Including things that shouldn''t be able to hurt. Like my fingernails, for some reason."


    The automaton looks down at me for another moment, then turns to a concerned Novi. "He is fine."


    "Hey! Why did it take that to convince you?" I complain. I push myself into a sitting position, although only barely; my arms scream in protest as I do so. It feels like my bones are aching, too, which... I suppose kind of makes sense, considering how the Knight Evolution works. Can''t say I like it, though.


    "Because," Guard says, amused, "you are usually fine when you are able to complain."


    I roll my eyes. "You haven''t been traveling with me long enough to know that."


    "But I have been observing you."


    "Guard," I say. "You know that''s kind of creepy, right?"


    "I was ordered to do so," he points out.


    "...Yeah, okay, fair point." Privacy hasn''t been much of an option during the Trials in general, in all honesty. Between the Integrators watching, Ahkelios being directly bonded to me, and Isthanok being a city that''s essentially under constant surveillance, I haven''t actually had a moment to myself since all this started. I try not to think about that. "Alright, let me see. The mission isn''t technically over until we deliver the Seed..."


    I trail off, frowning, as I call up the Interface. The final point hasn''t changed.


    And more worryingly¡ª


    [Charge the Seed: 99/100


    Bonus:


    Defeat the Concept-Bound: 0/1]


    "That''s not right," I mutter, staring at the window. We did defeat the Abstraction¡ªas far as I can tell, that thing is no longer here. In fact, after being exposed to it so directly, it feels like I have a better sense for these things than ever. There''s a sort of scar in the world where the Abstraction used to be, but it''s a scar that''s rapidly mending. "It says we haven''t beaten... well, the Interface is calling it a Concept-Bound. Not sure if that''s the same thing."


    Guard looks at me for a moment, then turns to Novi. "It may not be over," he informs her. She clutches at his arm, eyes wide.


    I force myself to my feet and wince at the wave of pain that comes with it. There''s barely any Firmament left within me¡ªbasically just enough to keep me standing instead of falling unconscious. The Knight feels like it''s fallen asleep, which I can''t blame it for, but it would be nice to have some answers.


    There''s nothing stirring in the distance, as far as I can tell, but there is a slow pit of dread forming in my stomach. Because if the Interface isn''t registering that defeat, then two things are likely to be true.


    The first is that the Abstraction I just fought wasn''t part of the plan. Like I suspected already, more or less; the Trials seem to adhere to some abstract, alien idea of fairness, and throwing something like an Abstraction at me feels far outside of its usual tricks. It''s more than willing to support a bending of the rules, but outright breaking them?


    Something else is interfering with this Ritual.


    The second truth, of course, is that this Ritual stage has a boss, and I haven''t fought it yet. That''s a problem too, because even if the boss isn''t as powerful as the Abstraction, if it''s anything like the Seedmother...


    I''m trying to recover, but I don''t have enough Firmament left. Not for a fight. No matter how fast I work, even if it takes a full hour for whatever this Concept-Bound is to show up¡ªand it won''t¡ªI won''t have recovered enough to fight. Maybe to support, if Guard takes the lead, but fight?


    A roar sounds from deep within the tunnel. I tense immediately and turn my attention to it, expanding my senses, trying to learn more about what''s to come; instead, I notice something else.


    Ahkelios''s bond with me, weakened by distance, is slowly getting stronger again. He''s on his way back. There''s a trickle of relief¡ªeven with his help, it might not be enough, but there''s at least more of a chance¡ª


    I pause, then frown.


    Something about Ahkelios feels different.

 177 — Book 3, Chapter 36 — Renewed Bonds

    There''s not much time to think about it, because the Concept-Bound is upon us in a moment, and it''s only Guard''s quick thinking that saves us. He steps in front of me and blazes with a Firmament shield strong enough that a shot I didn''t notice just ricochets off, slamming into the tunnel walls and blasting a chunk into it.


    Then and only then does the Concept-Bound emerge from the darkness of the tunnel. It''s no surprise that it resembles a large, mutated scirix¡ªit''s on four legs instead of two, its lower body split in a grotesque imitation of something adjacent to a centaur. Its upper body could pass for a regular member of their society if not for its four arms and eyes.


    And there''s an intelligence in its eyes. His eyes?


    He speaks. His voice is quiet and mournful; even his words ring with the Concept of Regret, and while it isn''t as powerful as the Abstraction''s aura, it still washes over us with enough force to make us stagger.


    "I am Phylus," he says. "I would like to know the names of those I am to end."


    Guard''s Breath of Life flickers into being, shielding us from the brunt of its effect. Dark-blue Firmament batters against vibrant green¡ªit''s saturated with emotion. I think this might be the first time I''ve seen Firmament be completely visible from force of emotion alone; the density wouldn''t normally be enough to make this Firmament shine, but combined with that emotion of regret...


    It tinges the entirety of the tunnel. Guard''s aura is the only source of light in what is otherwise an ocean of desaturation. This must be the reason the lights in the tunnel were flickering. Even now, I see the Firmament affecting them, waves of color making them dim to nothingness.


    "I don''t suppose you could just not end us?" I suggest warily. If he''s capable of reason...


    But Phylus shakes his head.


    "That is not an option," he says plainly. "But I will remember your names, should you give them to me."


    "Why?" I ask instead. I consider telling him that none of us will die permanently, even if he succeeds; that time will simply reset, and all that will be lost are memories and opportunities. Telling him that seems like I''d just be encouraging him to go ahead, though.


    "You know why." Phylus examines me for a moment. His words are filled with Regret. "I play a role within this Ritual, just as you do. And I cannot fight against that role any more than you can. You will come to regret your participation, just as much as I regret my role."


    I frown. What''s that supposed to mean?


    Phylus doesn''t give me the chance to answer, however. He just shakes his head. "If you will not give me your names," he says, "then I will simply remember your faces."


    He attacks.


    I try to react, to call up a skill, but even with as much time as I''ve been given I haven''t recovered nearly enough Firmament to call up so much as a Crystallized Barrier. It''s Guard that has to step in the way, a blast of Firmament deflecting the force of Phylus''s strike.


    But Phylus is fast. He''s enormous, but the four legs allow him to skitter and change his momentum with deceptive speed. Guard''s counter sends him flying, but it''s evident in moments that it was intentional¡ªhe uses the momentum to latch on to the ceiling, then moves in a twisting spiral along the tunnel, dodging Guard''s attempt to throw him off.


    He''s headed straight for Novi. A spike of hard chitin suddenly launches itself from his shoulder toward her. I step in the way, lifting an arm to block the strike, and grit my teeth as the force of it jars my entire skeleton, throwing me back. I force myself to my feet just in time to stop the next one, this time shifting my weight into it so it doesn''t throw me off as much.


    Both moves cost me. Both my arms are bleeding, badly lacerated¡ªwithout the upgrade to my bones, it would have pierced straight through me and into Novi. It''s a good thing the physical upgrade still works without me having to pump Firmament into it, but I''m not going to be able to keep this up for long.


    Fortunately, the delay is long enough for Guard to reposition himself. He''s in front of me again, his core blazing with his prismatic Firmament; I can feel the heat from his systems as he runs everything at full capacity. "You must run," Guard says. His voice is staticky with concern. "I cannot hold him off and defend you¡ª"


    "You cannot hold me off, regardless of what the human does," Phylus says. "But you are welcome to try."


    Guard responds with a blast of Firmament. I grab Novi''s hand, leading her away; not running, but moving toward Ahkelios, who seems to be moving at speed toward me in turn. He''s being careful not to draw on my Firmament¡ªthat must mean that''s him, right?


    "Come on, Ahkelios," I mutter. I try to speed up, but Novi stumbles, and I have to catch her. She clings to my shirt, bewildered and frightened. Echoes of Guard''s fight with Phylus ricochet down the tunnel, and I''m suddenly certain that Phylus is playing with Guard, though I can''t be sure why. He doesn''t even seem to want to do this.


    Maybe he''s giving us time.


    I don''t know what Ahkelios is doing. I don''t know why his presence feels different, though I fear the worst. Right now, though, he might be the only card I have left to play.


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    If nothing else, the closer he gets, the clearer the bond driven by Temporal Link becomes. I can work out a little more about what''s happened. One way or another, it seems like Ahkelios has joined with his Remnant. There''s a large, foreign presence within the bond, almost like an infection, except...


    I can''t tell which side the infection is. Ahkelios? Or Zhir? I''d reach out through the bond, but it''s strangely closed to my attempt to speak through it; that, more than anything, is what has me worried.


    Then I hear the footsteps. I catch a glimpse of a figure, not flying, but running. There''s a tight glow of Firmament around him that outlines his body, but that body is very much real; it''s not the Firmament construct that Ahkelios usually is. It wears the same lab coat Zhir was wearing, though the coat hangs open¡ª


    "Zhir?" Novi asks, confused. My grip tightens unintentionally on her wrist; I force myself to let go when she winces, aware of the tension running through my frame.


    Surely not.


    The figure running down the corridor is a little more built than Zhir was. A swordsman''s build rather than a researcher''s. He''s taller, too¡ªjust barely taller than even I am, in part due to the spikes of chitin around his head. The closer he gets, the clearer it is that he isn''t a scirix.


    But he''s not a mantis, either.


    He has the features of both, leaning a little more toward scirix than mantis; his face has their malleability of expression, their ability to express themselves with eyes and mouth both rather than the rigidity of chitin. His natural armor weaves perfectly with the underlying muscle to give him an agility that neither scirix nor mantis seem to have¡ªlike his body picked the best of both worlds.


    Even taking that into account, he''s more heavily armored than most scirix. His chitin has the texture of his mantis self. It''s rougher, more rugged; built to take blunt hits more than sharp ones, by my estimation.


    "That''s not Zhir," Novi whispers; I can''t tell if she''s horrified or fascinated. She doesn''t take her eyes off him.


    "No," I agree. "It''s not."


    The real question is whether or not it''s Ahkelios.


    He holds something that looks like a cross between a wand and a blaster in one hand; the other carries a metal box tucked under an arm, and I hear the rattling of a half-dozen different gadgets in it. The moment he''s within earshot, he calls out to me.


    "Ethan," he says. "You beat the Abstraction?"


    My heart sinks. That doesn''t sound like Ahkelios.


    "Took everything I had," I answer anyway. "Guard''s trying to hold off the stage boss. It''s not going well."


    The scirix-mantis hybrid peers down the corridor and frowns. "Concept-Bound," he says, identifying it quickly. "How did you¡ªnevermind. I should''ve expected it. That should be easier to deal with than an Abstraction, at least. You''re out of Firmament?"


    The abrupt way he switches topics startles me. "Yes," I say warily. I''m already examining the bond between us again. It doesn''t feel like Ahkelios is gone. I''m pretty sure the person I''m speaking to isn''t the Ahkelios I know, but at the same time...


    "We don''t have much time," he says. "I''ll work with Guard to hold off the Concept-Bound. You activate your Inspiration. Not the Knight¡ªone of the ones you''re owed. Get a new one. You can do that, yes?"


    "I can," I say. "But I need to know¡ª"


    He cuts me off. "Your friend put up a good fight," he says. Then a shadow crosses his expression, and he sighs. "...He won. He''s in here. He''s just lending me the body so I can help. He''ll take over soon enough, and I''ll fade away."


    He says it with a bitter acceptance. This is Zhir, then. Or Ahkelios''s Remnant, depending on what I''m supposed to call him.


    I''m not sure what to say. I wasn''t expecting his Remnant to... what, willingly help?


    "If you get a new Inspiration it may restore your Firmament reserves," Zhir tells me. "I will use these to help Guard hold off Phylus while you do so."


    "...Is that my home security system?" Novi asks suddenly, staring at the box.


    Zhir ignores her, staring intently at me instead. "Ethan. Do you understand?"


    "I do," I say finally. Inspirations have never done that for me noticeably before, but I''ve also never triggered one while this low on reserves; I wouldn''t have noticed if this was something they could do. "You better not be lying. I''ll drag Ahkelios out of you myself if I have to."


    Zhir snorts. "At least he didn''t lie about that," he mutters, almost too soft for me to hear. "Just trigger the damn Inspiration choice. You don''t lose any time while you do that anyway."


    It''s true. I''ve abused that mechanic before. Specifically so I could read the Empty City''s final Record. So he''s got a point.


    I reach for the Interface, selecting the new option Kauku''s given me.


    [Would you like to receive an Inspiration?]


    Yes.


    And two things happen at once.


    The first one is a sudden blast of Firmament, so intense it threatens to blind me¡ªI almost think that this is the restoration Zhir was talking about, except it resolves in a second, and it clearly isn''t.


    It''s a Paradox Warning. One sent from farther in the future than should be possible for me, even with my current levels of Firmament. There''s a moment where I''m worried this has something to do with Zhir and Ahkelios, but the message that pierces my skull has nothing to do with either of them.


    [I don''t have many options left. I''m sending back this warning so you''ll have one more choice that I didn''t have¡ªbut you''re not going to like it. You''ll know what I mean when you get there.


    This is programmed to reach you right before you trigger your second Inspiration with Kauku. I can''t tell you too much; Paradox Warning is only meant for you to prepare yourself, not alter the past. Takes more Firmament the more I risk changes. But it''d be remiss of me not to try, so try not to let it reach Kauku. It''s a pest now, but let those two merge and it''ll risk the end of all things as we know it.


    I''m sorry I can''t be more specific. Keep doing what you''re doing. The Warning is just... an option. Something we can use if we have no other choice. Hopefully this will give us enough time to prepare.


    Good luck, me. We''re going to need it.]


    When I look up again, I''m half-collapsed in the void. The intensity of the message knocked me to my knees. I have no idea what to make of it¡ªnor do I have time, because Kauku is standing in front of me, one eyebrow raised.


    "I did not expect to see you kneeling before me the next time we met," Kauku says. I can tell he''s smirking, somehow, even if his skull can''t quite express it. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"


    I roll my eyes and force myself to my feet despite the throbbing in my head. "You know why I''m here."

 178 — Book 3, Chapter 37 — Inspired (x2)

    Once the pain in my skull fades, I note that I feel a lot better¡ªmaybe Zhir was telling the truth. I certainly don''t feel like I''m out of Firmament anymore, though it''s possible that has more to do with... whatever it is about Inspirations that causes time to freeze around me. I''ve always felt that this place is more mental than physical, even if Kauku''s abilities tend to blur the line between the two.


    "I would enjoy hearing your tale regardless," Kauku says casually, leaning back against nothing in particular. "I don''t get much entertainment here in the void, you see¡ªlet alone company. Rare enough that I get an Heir of my own and the opportunity for conversation. Surely you can indulge me?"


    I''m all too cautious of the warning that was just shot into my head. Try not to let it reach Kauku. I have no idea what this "it" is, and I''m assuming if my future self could have been any more specific, he would have.


    But I don''t need to. As far as I know, Kauku is entirely inaccessible except via Inspiration, exactly like this. If my future self is telling me that something was able to gain access to him...


    Well. That means that more likely than not, they were able to gain access to him through this. Through the process of selecting an Inspiration. It shouldn''t be possible¡ªnot with the way reality itself freezes to a stop to allow for this process¡ªbut there has to be a reason I sent myself this warning.


    Until I have more information, it might be best to either not trigger future Inspirations at all, or to do these as quickly as possible. Or at least keep both to a minimum.


    "I''m afraid I don''t have time," I say. "I''m sure you''ve been watching. You know exactly what I''ve been up to."


    "Quite." Kauku grins at me, all pretense vanishing. "I must say, you''re doing even better than I expected. I''ve outdone myself."


    "You''ve outdone yourself?" I raise an eyebrow.


    "In acquiring a brilliant Heir, of course!" Kauku practically preens as he says the words. I''m... reasonably sure that he''s joking. "I expect you''re here to refill those Firmament reserves of yours. And to choose your next Inspiration."


    "And I''d like to do so quickly," I say. Kauku tilts his head at me, curious.


    "Any particular reason?"


    "That depends on how much you can observe," I say dryly. "But I''ve been told I shouldn''t let something reach you. I haven''t figured out what that means yet."


    No point hiding it. Kauku''s powerful enough that he can probably protect himself from it, given enough advance warning¡ªand that gives me a better shot at preventing that future than if I just left him in the dark. I''d be mortified if I tried to keep it a secret and whatever it was got to him for exactly that reason.


    Kauku, however, tilts his head, his eyes narrowing at the nothingness in front of him. "You received a Paradox Warning," he says. It''s not a question. I wonder if he has something like an Interface, too. If he does, it''s drastically different from anything I or the Integrators have access to. "I can usually detect those... This one slipped past me due to its timing."


    "Do you know what it''s talking about?" I ask.


    "No," Kauku says, "but I thank you for the warning." He hesitates for a moment. "I am not eager to be found here."


    I blink. That feels like the truth¡ªI wasn''t expecting such a straightforward response from him. "Good?" I say, slightly thrown off. "Can you tell me why?"


    "I cannot," Kauku says dryly. That''s a lot more in line with what I expect from him. "But if you are concerned... it is unlikely that spending more time within this pocket of space will give anything access to me. No: if I am to be found here, then whatever your future self claims will find me either already has everything they need, or will acquire it regardless of your actions."


    "You''re very sure about that," I say cautiously. He tilts his head, and an enigmatic smile flickers in his eyes.


    "Time is not so easy to change," he says. "Simple enough to tie into knots, to push and change and shape in small ways. But to divert its path entirely, the way your future self hoped to? That requires a far greater power than yours."


    "What about yours?" I ask impulsively. Kauku eyes me for a moment.


    "That," he says, "remains to be seen."


    Then he waves a hand, and with a dizzying swirl, the void around me changes.


    Again, three pedestals stand before me. Again, they each contain shifting, fractal shapes atop each of them.


    Yet there''s something that feels a little different about them compared to before. I frown slightly, stepping forward, and within me I feel the Knight begin to stir.


    They match, for lack of a better term. I catch a glimpse of steel and nobility, of armor and pride, in the fractal shapes nested atop every pedestal.


    "These are new Forms for the Knight," Kauku says, confirming what I''m thinking. He sounds proud, oddly. Like he''s personally responsible for them in some way. "I would not normally tell you quite this much, but seeing as you have done me quite the favor by informing me of this incoming threat..."


    He trails off, considering. "An Inspiration triggered via the Firmament category will give you new Evolutions entirely; any of the other categories will give you an additional Form for your existing Evolutions."


    And in this case, I''d triggered the Inspiration I gained for crossing the Speed milestone. I glance again at the pedestals with this new information in mind, and to my surprise, I can make out some of what he''s saying.


    Because each of these pedestals contain the seed of a Concept. If I had to put a word to it, to explain what they are...


    They''re Concept-Bound.


    Kauku makes a low, approving noise in his throat, almost like he read my mind and approves of the conclusion. I ignore how alarming that thought is¡ªthere''s little I can do about it at the moment¡ªand approach the pedestals again, reaching out with the new sense I gained from fighting that Abstraction.


    It takes a lot more work than just using my Firmament sense, but I can sense it, now. The first pedestal contains the Concept of Flight, I think. Presumably, it''s a Form for the Knight that gives me airborne mobility, and modifies my skills to be compatible with that skillset.


    As much as I''d like to be able to fly, I dismiss that almost immediately out of hand. There aren''t enough practical uses for it when I can freely teleport and direct my acceleration, and while I''m sure the application of the Form will give me entirely new options in combat, my current battle is about to take place in a tunnel. Airborne options are not what I need right now.


    The second pedestal is a little harder to figure out. I catch a glimpse of perpetuity, of motion and creation. If I had to find a word for it...


    Generation. A Form that creates power and redistributes it along the Knight''s body, at a guess.


    The third one is even more complex. I get the impression of a shortcut, of spatial compression, of navigational perfection. It''s a Form designed to slip from one space to another undetected.


    Tempting, and stealth is certainly an area I''m lacking in, but as I consider it I hear a grumble from the Inspiration within me. It''s still mostly asleep, but the Knight does not seem to like the idea of stealth.


    I snort. Yeah, that fits.


    "You know, we might actually need that one day," I say, reaching out mentally and probing for a reaction.


    The Knight cracks open a metaphorical eye. "We will crush all that stands in our way," he growls. "There is no need for the coward''s path."


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    "Good word for it," I muse. "The Form that takes the quickest Path..."


    "No," it growls again, although I get the feeling it would acquiesce if I really pushed for it. I don''t, in part because I''ve already made my choice; the third Form isn''t what I need at the moment.


    "If I may make a suggestion," Kauku says. He has his hands folded behind his back, and he''s watching me with a strange look on his face. Interest, I think.


    "Sure," I say. Couldn''t hurt.


    "Take the second one," Kauku says. "The Generator Form. You are out of Firmament, and your friend is partially right; triggering an Inspiration like this will restore what you''ve got. But your opponent is a Concept-Bound. The meager Firmament stores of a third-layer will not be sufficient."


    "Did you have to put it like that?" I ask blandly. "I beat the Abstraction just fine."


    "An impressive feat," Kauku allows. "But it did not fight you. If it had, the outcome would have been very different. It wanted to be dead as much as you wanted to end it."


    A fair assessment, I have to admit. The Abstraction didn''t fight me at all once I showed it I had the power to end it; it seemed to just accept what was coming. If it had resisted, if it had dodged...


    I''m not at a place where I can fight something like that freely. Not yet.


    "You are not ready to use Submerged skills," Kauku continues, startling me. "The Generator Form will give you the control you need to only partially fuel the skill. Do not repeat what you did before until you are at least at the fourth layer; if you pour all your Firmament into one skill like you did with that Primordial Foray a second time, especially this soon, you will die."


    He steps close, as if to impress upon me how serious it is. "Heed my words. Do that again and your soul will pop like a balloon."


    That''s... not an analogy I was expecting.


    "You strained your core way before it was ready." There''s a sort of begrudging respect in Kauku''s voice, and he folds his arms across his chest as he stares me down. "It will likely help you achieve the next phase shift, but if you do that again before healing? Your core will burst. I warn you now because you are the type of Heir that will do it again if I don''t."


    He''s not wrong there. "Thanks," I say, and I mean it. I reach out for the second pedestal, but before I grab hold of the new Form¡ª


    "Am I on the right track?" I ask. "I assume the Ritual is your doing."


    Kauku blinks, looking confused for a moment. Then he seems to remember himself. "Quite!" he says cheerfully. "Keep doing what you''re doing. I''ll see what I need to at the end of the Ritual."


    I frown slightly at that reaction, but before I can think any more about it, Kauku grimaces, scratching at the back of his head. "Seems the information you gave me was quite valuable," he mutters. "I should not let you leave without giving you more. Very well. That thing you have been thinking about. Skill categories. You have all the pieces you need. You just need to put it all together. Do it before your next phase shift, and you will have an advantage no Integrator does."


    ...Huh. Interesting. All the pieces I need? I''d assumed I was still missing something. I cast my mind back, trying to remember what might be relevant.


    At the same time, I reach for the Generator Form¡ª


    ¡ªAnd I feel the Knight stir.


    <hr>


    Ahkelios didn''t know if he''d done the right thing, letting Zhir take control as he had. So far, his other self had kept his word¡ªhe''d pit all their shared resources directly toward dealing with whatever trouble Ethan had managed to get into.


    Though he had lied. Ahkelios had learned almost immediately on their merge that Zhir didn''t really have a solution for defeating an Abstraction. Of course he didn''t. He''d known about them, but he''d never once encountered a force strong enough to beat them back.


    They both felt it when Ethan defeated it anyway. Ahkelios felt the shock from Zhir and seized on his chance. It was just enough of a distraction to create a crack in his other self''s psyche...


    But that wasn''t what had lost Zhir the fight. It had expedited things¡ªAhkelios thought he might have lost more of himself if not for that chance that he''d seized¡ªbut the truth of the matter was that they both knew who would win the moment their minds made contact.


    After existing for as long as he had, after experiencing years of nothing but an empty, colorless city, Zhir was no longer anchored. He was driven only by a desire to survive, to see his home again, and while that desire wasn''t a weak one...


    He no longer had anything he believed in.


    And Ahkelios, for all his flaws and doubts, did.


    Back when he''d been a Trialgoer, Hestia''s Trial made him feel like the things he cared about didn''t matter. Like his home didn''t matter. Zhir''s memories flooding into him reinforced that¡ªhe remembered losing hope with every Trial, remembered losing himself to the loops, because the cyclical nature of time just taught him that nothing mattered.


    His home was nothing. What his people cared about was nothing. They were all pawns in a greater game. What use was his love for art when all that remained was destruction?


    And then there was Ethan. The human that had gotten stuck in that very same loop, who knew nothing mattered, and... didn''t care. Made it a point not to let it change him, to treat everyone he met like a person even when the next loop would just turn it all back.


    It was that determination that helped Ahkelios remember what he''d once loved. Every act of kindness, every time he cared, every time he paid attention to something Ahkelios ignored¡ªthey made new discoveries, met new people, learned more and more about Hestia and its inhabitants¡ª


    Ahkelios remembered the beauty of Isthanok. The shards of crystal in the sky, reflecting and refracting the light from the sun.


    His world held crystals like that. They were crystalline mountains, not towers and cathedrals, but the way the light shone through them was the same. He remembered visiting them for the first time with his friends. Remembered carving little sculptures of themselves out of some of the rocks and leaving that behind.


    He''d forgotten.


    It was a cultural thing for them. Ahkelios''s people lived in moving cities¡ªin great monuments built in ancient times, each with dozens or hundreds of mechanical legs that could take them through the hazards of the planet unscathed. Most of their planet was uninhabited and unexplored, and most of their people weren''t connected. It was difficult, given the conditions of their planet.


    But every so often, their moving cities would encounter an island amid the chaos. A landmark of some kind. Mountains of crystal, valleys of gold, forests that burned and froze in equal measure.


    Ahkelios loved the forests most. They were proof that life could survive outside of their monuments and cities; proof that it would always find a way. He''d dreamed of finding a way to give his people whatever traits those plants had so they could live outside of their cities, outside their safe havens...


    Point was, they lived in moving cities, and without a way to speak to one another directly?


    They resorted to stories.


    Tales told through art. Small things left behind at every habitable location. Nothing that would ruin it permanently, but a little piece of them, a little piece of their city. Little pieces of history and art and culture left behind for others to find so their people could still speak to one another, still share with one another.


    His home had been named Ar''kur. The Winding Wanderer. Whatever ancient systems controlled their city was a little bit broken, and every so often they''d end up spiraling in circles.


    All this Ethan helped him remember just from his exploration, from his open love of the world. In a way, his approach through the loops reminded Ahkelios of that same cultural practice¡ªeach loop was an island in time, and Ethan tried always to leave behind something that mattered.


    And so when it came down to it¡ªwhen it came down to the essence of who they were¡ª


    Ahkelios remembered to care. Remembered what had mattered the most to his people.


    And Zhir didn''t.


    "It''s all set up," Zhir told him. "All up to you and your friend, now."


    Ahkelios hesitated. "Are you just going to be... gone?" he asked. He felt oddly guilty about it. Zhir seemed to sense that, and Ahkelios could feel his counterpart rolling his eyes.


    "You''ve adopted too much of that human''s sentimentality," Zhir said. "Put it this way. He betrays you? I''ll be back. Otherwise... I''ll just be part of you."


    Ahkelios could live with that. He and Zhir had once been the same, after all.


    "Thank you," he said. He meant it.


    "Egh," Zhir responded. "Your sentimentality is gross. Go kill the big bug or whatever it is you''re going to do."


    Ahkelios snorted¡ª


    ¡ªand then he was himself again. Whole. Different, in many ways¡ªthe new body was going to take some getting used to. But more important than that...


    He felt the Firmament pouring through him.


    His own Firmament. Not Ethan''s. The link between them wasn''t gone, but he was his own person now; the fog of the Interface no longer had an influence on him. It was like taking a breath of fresh air for the first time.


    He couldn''t wait to hang out with Ethan. Properly. As equals, as friends.


    "Bring it," he said out loud to Phylus.


    The Concept-Bound¡ªwho was currently tangled in a half-dozen ropes that had emerged from the traps of Novi''s household, and fighting to get free¡ªjust stared at him. "Are you a different person now?" he asked. He turned to Guard. "Is he a different person now? How many of you are there?"


    He-Who-Guards slid his optic over to Ahkelios, and Ahkelios caught a ghost of a smile. "Welcome back, Ahkelios," he said.


    "Glad to be back," Ahkelios said. He felt his Firmament surging, felt his own Concept bind to his Firmament.


    He might be a full layer behind Ethan, but that didn''t mean he didn''t have his own tricks up his sleeve. The Sword made every part of him sharp as a blade, and when the Concept-Bound shot a spike at him, it bounced off his arm.


    It still cracked his carapace, but he could do this. He could fight.


    In no small part thanks to the power Zhir had gained in his time as a Remnant.


    "Thanks," he said again, even though he knew Zhir could no longer hear him. "I''ll make good use of this."

 179 — Book 3, Chapter 38 — Bound Battle

    All three of us are ready to fight. I feel it like a charge in the air, and I''m not the only one; the Concept-Bound senses it, too. Phylus stills, and there''s suddenly a note in his voice that sounds a lot like concern.


    "Something is different," he says, half-musing the words. Talking to himself, for some reason. "I can delay no longer."


    That''s all the warning we get.


    The ropes that Ahkelios brought in¡ªI don''t know what they are, but those things are strong. They actually hold him back for about half a second, which is more warning than we would have had otherwise; they flare to an eye-searing brightness as Phylus brings everything he has to bear against it.


    They shatter and the devices generating them burst into flames and smoke, but it''s more than enough time for Guard to get in front of Ahkelios and I, burning with the Breath of Life. The field of green glows bright as it deflects the sudden near-solid dark blue that crashes against us.


    Novi huddles in the center where it''s safest. I''m closest to the edge¡ªdark-blue Firmament brushes against my finger, just for a fraction of a second as it leaves the protective grasp of Guard''s aura. That''s enough for it to burn straight through my skin and down to the bone like it''s concentrated acid.


    Very good thing Guard got in the way of that. When it dissipates, Phylus''s eyes widen slightly, like he''s both surprised and annoyed that all four of us are still there. He doesn''t waste time talking like I expect him to, though.


    Instead, he attacks. He''s faster than before. Three solid spikes, Bound with Regret, aimed directly at our throats; Guard''s aura won''t deflect something physical like that.


    So I Evolve faster than I ever have before.


    Our time in Kauku''s pocket dimension seems to have helped the Knight recover; it''s able to join with me in record time, and together the transformation accelerates through our bones, cracks through our body. First comes its default Form, the transformation of my bones into armor¡ª


    Distorted Crux.


    The first spike is headed toward me; it''s forced to slow down as it approaches, though I note with alarm that the Concept bound to it allows it to partially bypass that defense.


    Not nearly enough, though. I grab it with an armored fist and shatter it.


    The other spikes are too far away, and with the Concept interfering I''m wary of Warpstepping into their path. But the Generator Form is already creeping through the Knight¡ªthe plates of our armor begin to separate, pulling with it the underlying muscle. The sensation would be uncomfortable, but I''m focused on the fight, and the Knight takes on most of the burden of the transformation.


    New organs shuffle into place. I can''t see them, but I can feel what they do. They draw in Firmament like makeshift lungs, pulling ambient energy into my core and twisting it in an instant into something pure and mine. It''s almost like it''s burning it for fuel.


    Either way, new Firmament pours into my body, and I throw a hand out, reaching for Great Filter at the same time. Carefully, as Kauku warned. I can sense how much easier it is to use Firmament Control now¡ªthe power leaps eagerly into my mental grasp as I reach for it, and pulls away just as quickly if I demand it. Even with how hungry this skill is, I''m able to feed it exactly the amount of Firmament I intend to.


    About ten percent of what I have available drains into Great Filter. The air in front of those spikes harden into a glasslike surface. I can sense almost instantly that the skill is only half-formed¡ªit doesn''t have nearly the Firmament it needs to manifest fully¡ªbut it doesn''t matter. Even only half-formed, I get a powerful impression of what it is.


    You do not pass, the barrier tells the spikes. It takes every attempt, every future possibility, and stands in their way like an insurmountable wall. You have failed.


    Even with the power of a Concept behind them, the spikes are forced to obey. They clatter harmlessly off the faux glass and onto the ground.


    There''s no time to celebrate, because Phylus is already following up with his next attack; he''s crawling along the ceiling in a zig-zag, disruptive pattern, firing more spikes, building up power for something, but before he can, Ahkelios steps up.


    "My turn," he announces. I can feel this is him, now. He shoots me a grin¡ª


    ¡ªand I blanch as he somehow balances a foot on my shoulder and uses me as a launching pad. "Ahkelios! You''re not small enough to do that anymore!"


    "My bad!" he calls, but he''s grinning. Little bastard.


    Or I guess I can''t call him that anymore, if he''s bigger than I am. That''s going to be awkward. I watch as he crashes into the ceiling and slashes with an arm. A steel-gray blade of sharp Firmament bursts out of him like a sword summoned into existence; it blisters with an edge too sharp to be real, lined with the power of a Concept. I blink, and a vague memory comes back.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "My Concept is that of the Sword," Ahkelios says.


    I hadn''t thought anything of it at the time, but I guess he wasn''t exactly an ordinary Trialgoer, either. Even if he was just at the second layer, the power of that Concept is enough for it to weaken the spikes being launched toward us¡ªit doesn''t stop them completely, but it breaks them down enough that a Crystallized Barrier does the rest.


    His strike, on the other hand, continues. The Sword he wields, pure Firmament and little else, tears straight through the blessed stone of the tunnel ceiling. Even without a skill, it turns the ceiling into a series of crumbling rocks.


    With nothing to stay attached to, Phylus falls¡ªand Guard and I are there to catch him.


    With our fists, specifically.


    Amplified Gauntlet burns as it activates. Quite literally. The Form I''m in alters the skill, and when my arm transforms, six miniature engines emerge from beneath the plating just along my forearm. I feel it burn Firmament, feel it transform that Firmament into pure kinetic energy.


    The Knight grins, wide and savage. It loves this new Form, I can tell.


    Next to us, He-Who-Guards catches on to what we''re doing. There''s a split second of analysis. He doesn''t have quite enough force behind his own strike to match mine.


    Realization, recalculation, redirection¡ª


    ¡ªa new pattern emerges in front of him. I recognize it as another inverted skill, though I''m not sure which. The black hole the Seedmother used, if I had to guess.


    It''s not quite complete. Instead, it''s half-formed, the same way the Great Filter skill was half-formed. Did he... pick up on what I did and immediately incorporate it into a skill he didn''t know how to use yet?


    Damn.


    I''m pretty sure he did, because in the next moment, a trio of tiny specks of white burst into being at his elbow, burning with force. His enormous Firmament reserves pour carelessly into the skill, and suddenly he has power enough to match mine.


    Impact.


    Phylus tries to guard against the blow. Tries. He crosses all four arms in front of himself, two to block Guard and two to block me. A shockwave blisters the air around us. There''s a moment of almost-cartoonish delay; I sense Phylus pouring Firmament into some sort of positional skill, trying to avoid being thrown back...


    Because Ahkelios wasn''t done with a single strike. When I look up, I see the ceiling shining with Firmament. Sharp blades protrude from the top of the tunnel, each one aimed unerringly at Phylus. I''m impressed the Concept-Bound noticed at all, focused as he was trying to stop me and Guard.


    It''s not enough, though. Not against the sheer, combined weight of our strikes. Guard pours more Firmament through his arm, my gauntlet burns even more of mine, and together, we break through whatever barrier he''s using to stay in place.


    He rockets backward. Ahkelios moves out of the way gracefully, hanging on to one of his blades; where it would cut anyone else, he simply clutches it with an arm and balances on a leg, entirely unharmed.


    Phylus, on the other hand, is impaled by six different blades at once. There''s a sickening crack of carapace followed by squelch of flesh; a choked groan of pain erupts from him. Green-blue blood trickles down from his mouth and from the rest of his wounds, falling from the ceiling like rain.


    Novi starts forward, mouth opening in relief, but Guard shakes his head and holds her back. "It is not over."


    And it isn''t.


    How he''s still able to move is beyond me, but Phylus lashes out with a wave of Firmament powerful enough to shatter Ahkelios''s blades; the mantis¡ªscirix?¡ªleaps away before the shockwave can hurt him, landing nimbly back beside me. Guard takes point in front and shields us with another Breath of Life, his systems straining with the effort. I hear the whir of his fans as green Firmament streams from him.


    "Ahkelios," I say. He latches on to what I''m thinking with a simple flicker of intent through our bond, and we leap into action.


    He goes left. I go right. Firmament Control allows us each to grasp a small piece of Guard''s shield¡ªnot enough to destabilize it, just enough to let us survive the wave of Firmament trying to crush us as we approach. Ahkelios borrows Primordial Foray from me, and I borrow his Sword Concept from him.


    They don''t oppose one another, but they don''t have to. The Sword cuts. That''s the essence of the Concept, resonating through us both; a weapon that slices through any obstacle, wielded sometimes in defense, sometimes in offense, but always to cut.


    Primordial Foray turns into a sharp, cutting force that brims with Life; there''s a mingling of two Concepts that don''t quite match. We''re not practiced enough for them to mesh perfectly, so some power is lost in that exchange, but not enough to matter.


    Phylus roars. There''s a mixture of panic, frustration, and maybe a hint of approval mixed in with the agony¡ªI see in his Firmament that he doesn''t understand how this is happening, how he''s losing. He''s at the fourth layer of Firmament, and being overwhelmed by the three of us doesn''t make sense to him.


    He tries to lash out again, but his body is falling apart. Twin blades of Firmament slice off his lower arms and cut into his torso, and wounded as he is, bleeding as he is, his strength is leaving him.


    He staggers. Tries to move, but collapses instead, no longer able to hold the weight of his body. He laughs a choked laugh.


    "Incredible," he murmurs. "Well done, Trialgoers."


    My eyes narrow at that word. Ahkelios starts. We glance at each other.


    [You have defeated Phylus, Bound by Regret (Rank SS)! +337 Strength credits. +100 Durability credits. +100 Reflex credits. +100 Speed credits. +500 Firmament credits.]


    "Ahkelios," I start. "Did you¡ª?"


    "Yup," he says. He stares at the window in front of him. At the Interface.


    His own Interface, separate from mine. I can see it, though. The bond between us grants us that much. His credit distribution is different from mine, but all in all...


    A message hangs in the air in front of him, gleaming blue.


    [Welcome back, Trialgoer Ahkelios.]

 180 — Book 3, Chapter 39 — Walk and Talk

    There''s a sort of unspoken agreement that as soon as we''re done with this stage and with Tarin and Naru, we''re going to have to sit down and figure out what this means. He-Who-Guards seems a little put out, probably because he''s now the only one in our little party that doesn''t have an Interface of his own; there''s not much we can do about that, but I point out how he''s apparently able to copy what we can do.


    That cheers him up a bit. We''ll have to focus some of our efforts on specifically figuring out how Guard can interface with regular skill constructs, since they''re distinct from the circuits that these Dungeon monsters are using, but Ahkelios and I are both more than willing to help.


    Novi seems eager to help, too, actually. We don''t have the heart to tell her that she''s probably not going to be with us for that conversation.


    "We''ll have to tell her eventually," Ahkelios admits to me quietly, when we have a moment to ourselves. I glance at him, surprised.


    "What do you mean?"


    "I kind of told her kids by accident," he says.


    "...How did you do that by accident?" I ask, now more confused than before. He laughs awkwardly¡ªit''s strange walking with him like this, now that he''s essentially eye level with me. I don''t have to crane my neck down or up to look at him anymore. The only reason he''s taller is because of his carapace.


    "It''s a long story," he mutters. "Uh, it''s mostly because of Zhir?"


    "He told them?" I raise an eyebrow. I don''t see how that would help his case.


    "No, no." Ahkelios hurries to explain to me what happened¡ªand I can''t help but snort with amusement when he reaches the part where Juri and Yarun turned the tables on him.


    "Novi''s really proud of her kids," I say, glancing over at her. She''s walking with Guard on the other side of the tunnel, chatting animatedly with him about something or the other; some kind of Archivist discovery, if I''m hearing them correctly. "I guess she''s got good reason to be."


    "You should''ve seen Zhir''s face when Yarun told him to shut up so he could fix him," Ahkelios says with a little grin. "He''s like a tiny version of you!"


    I laugh. "When have I ever told anyone to shut up so I could fix them?"


    "You don''t say it, but you think it," Ahkelios tells me. "Very loudly. I can hear you even when you''re not using the bond."


    "You''re imagining things."


    "Am not." Ahkelios pretends to look affronted, but the look fades quickly; I can feel through our bond that there''s a lot of excitement bubbling within the surface. He''s happy. A little conflicted about Zhir, I think, but merging with that final Remnant restored to him a lot of memories he didn''t have before, even corrected ones that he now suspects the Interface artificially filled out.


    He feels complete in a way that he hasn''t felt for a long, long while. Not as Zhir, not as Ahkelios... Whatever he is now, despite the differences in form, he finally feels like he''s himself again. Finally feels like an equal.


    "I''m going to need to catch up with you," he says, nudging me. "Think you could help me with that third layer? You''ve got more experience with it than I do."


    "Hmm." I pretend to think about it for a moment. "I suppose I could."


    "You suppose?" Ahkelios folds his arms in mock outrage.


    "I will," I say, laughing. "Relax. We''re just going to need somewhere with a lot of Firmament, and right now the best time for that is going to be when the dungeon is mid-transition. I don''t think we want to mess around with that yet."


    "Yeah, no." Ahkelios shudders a little at the thought. "Maybe the Fracture? It''s got a lot of Firmament if you go deeper in."


    "Could always use the Intermediary, too," I say. "Just have to get there again, see what the Firmament levels are like. We''ll figure it out."


    "Right." He seems happy with that. Ahkelios grins to himself as we walk. Regaining that connection with the Interface seems to be good for him¡ªhe''s going through his windows, looking at his skills, just... exploring.


    The Interface isn''t good. Both of us know that, at this point. At best it''s a neutral force, and at worst it''s trying to achieve a goal we don''t understand. One that might very well spell destruction for many, many species across the galaxy.


    But Ahkelios''s joy isn''t about that. It''s just the acknowledgement from the Interface that he''s real and whole again. More than just a familiar, as it were.


    "Do you still have access to all your old skills?" I ask curiously. Ahkelios makes a face, swiping to the skills tab and shaking his head.


    "Doesn''t look like it," he grumbles. "But I can roll for new ones, at least. I guess all those constructs got cleaned out of my core or something."


    "Would''ve been cool to try out some of your skills," I mutter. Ahkelios grins.


    "I''ll roll for more once you''re done with the whole Naru thing," he promises. "Oh! We can roll for skills together! We should figure out what skill sharing is like both ways, anyway. And if you''re still the core of the time loop. Like, what if the reset conditions changed? And there''s the whole party thing that''s in the Interface now?"


    Yep. That''s a new one. A whole window that lists our names and nothing else. There''s probably more functionality in there, but when I reach out with my senses it feels like the Interface is actively building the feature. Like it''s something new it made just for us.


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    Odd. But interesting.


    In the meantime, there''s only one thing left for us to do, and it hangs over both Ahkelios and I in the Interface. A shared objective.


    [Plant the Seed: 0/1]


    Hopefully that doesn''t involve anything complicated. Odds are it will, given this is a Dungeon and all, but it''ll be nice if all we need to do is stick it in some dirt and be done with it.


    "Are you comfortable with... all this, by the way?" I ask.


    "What do you mean?" Ahkelios seems genuinely confused by the question. I gesture vaguely at him, unsure how to elaborate on the question.


    "This isn''t your original body," I say. "It''s a sort of... scirix-mantis hybrid? Are you okay with that?"


    "Oh!" Ahkelios looks down at himself. "I''m pretty happy with it, actually. It feels good and looks good. I''m really flexible now. Watch."


    He bends over nearly a hundred and eighty degrees backward so that both his hands and his feet rest on the ground. I stare at him. He is remarkably flexible; I''m surprised the carapace can bend that much.


    Then the flowing cloth of his labcoat-robes fall with gravity and tangle around his face, and Ahkelios yelps. "Ethan! Help!"


    I just watch, trying not to smirk.


    "Ethan!"


    "Alright, alright." I reach down and pull the cloth away from his face, helping him back to his feet. To my surprise¡ªmostly because he didn''t show this off before¡ªwings emerge from his back, fluttering wildly to take some of his weight; they''re similar to the ones he had as a mantis. "I guess you like your new body, then."


    "I feel kind of bad about Zhir," Ahkelios admits. "I mean, both the real one and my... other self. But yeah. This is... better."


    There''s a small pause as we walk. A companionable sort of silence. Ahkelios breaks it first, a small shadow crossing his expression as he finds the courage to talk about something on his mind. "I don''t have my vision back, though," he confides quietly. "I was hoping..."


    Right. I wince. "We might find a way to fix it," I offer. "But even if we don''t, your vision''s just like mine now. I bet I''d still love your art if I saw it."


    Ahkelios blinks. "You think so?"


    "Can''t say for sure until I see it, but..." I shrug. "You should spend some time at the next camp making stuff. It''s probably been too long for you."


    "Shouldn''t we be training or something?" Ahkelios asks, uncertain.


    "How''d that work out for you during your Trial?"


    A pause. "Fair point."


    "I know I''m one to talk¡ª" I smile a wry smile. "¡ªbut we can''t lose ourselves fighting for others. Or fighting for ourselves. Feels a lot like there''s no other choice sometimes, to spend every second fighting, but if you do that..."


    I can feel Ahkelios thinking back to Zhir. I don''t know what kind of memories he has, but I can imagine.


    Centuries of nothingness in the Empty City. Centuries of fighting to survive.


    "Yeah," Ahkelios says, his eyes distant. "I know what you mean."


    <hr>


    To my surprise, the last stage objective is, in fact, completed as easily as just... stuffing the Seed in the dirt. It''s not even us that has to do it¡ªwe transfer it to the possession of some Archivists, and they immediately start exclaiming over the thing, talking about how it''s full of Firmament.


    "You do not wish to know what we went through for that," Novi mutters when questioned, and refuses to elaborate. Part of that, I think, is because she appreciates the need for secrecy. She''s no fool¡ªshe''s caught on to enough, through conversaion with Guard and through what she''s overheard between me and Ahkelios, that she knows the nature of this whole thing is... complicated.


    In fact, she more or less explicitly told us we didn''t need to make the time to tell her about what was going on.


    "Juri and Yarun know, yes?" she asked, and when we confirmed, she just nodded. "I will ask them. You three seem like you have much to talk about."


    It''s a breath of fresh air, to have someone not demanding answers¡ªI certainly feel like I''m demanding answers all the time. There are too many puzzles to unravel, too many secrets to uncover, and too many motivations I haven''t yet figured out.


    But it''s probably best I listen to my own advice. The mind needs rest, even if the body doesn''t. We''ll take some time to talk things through, but after that, maybe a small break is in order. Nothing too big.


    Guard did mention hot showers in Isthanok, and that sounds very attractive at the moment.


    We watch as the Archivists begin to lower the Seed into Firmament-enriched dirt. "Are you guys ready?" I ask, my voice low. "Because we''re going to have to get out fast. I''ve got the portal ready to open."


    "Ready," Ahkelios agrees.


    "Ready." Guard nods.


    The Seed is planted¡ª


    [Seed planted. Congratulations, Heir. Ritual Stage 2 has been completed.]


    [Bonus objective complete: Defeat the Concept-Bound in a single try! +200 Firmament credits.]


    [Bonus objective complete: Fight a higher tier of enemy than intended! +200 Firmament credits.]


    [Bonus objective complete: Thwart the intrusion. +200 Firmament credits.]


    [Progressing Ritual: The Empty City to Stage 3. Be aware that the Firmament levels required for dungeon alteration are hostile to fifth-layer lifeforms and below. Evacuation is recommended.]


    Both Ahkelios and I react to that fourth message. "Thwart the what?" Ahkelios demands.


    I frown at it, but shake my head; I''m already pulling the Dungeon''s key out. "No time," I say, inserting the key into the air. With a twist, a golden door blossoms into existence, and the three of us pour through.


    For a moment, I entertain the idea of what might happen if we tried to pull Novi with us. I even look for her, try to catch her eye¡ªbut she''s talking animatedly with one of the other Archivists. She doesn''t seem to notice the rumbling in the dungeon, and she certainly doesn''t see the door. I have no doubt that if any of them could there would be a whole host of questions to deal with.


    So that might not be an option. But it''s... something to keep in mind, now that we have an idea of what to expect for the next Stage.


    The door seals shut behind us¡ª


    [The Empty City has been locked. Time remaining before full establishment of Ritual Stage 3: 4 days.]


    Seems even the Interface is enforcing a kind of break. I''m not surprised the dungeon takes longer to reconstitute itself with every stage, although at this rate I worry for how long the final stage will take to render.


    For now, though...


    [Processing additional reward...]


    [Congratulations! By completing two Ritual stages of the S-Rank Dungeon The Empty City, you have earned a Feat!]


    "Hey, how come I don''t get that?" Ahkelios complains.


    "I''ll share what I get," I say, shrugging. "We kind of have access to each other''s skills anyway, don''t we?"


    "Good point." Ahkelios seems mollified by that. I look back to the Interface.


    [Feat earned:


    [The Abstract Crown]


    Where an Anchoring solidifies a change in reality, an Abstraction unmakes it: it is an unmooring of a concept, a physical rendering of something that should remain outside reality. To destroy an Abstraction is to restore balance to the universe.


    The Abstract Crown is a recognition of this feat. With it, you gain 50% additional affinity to Concepts and Threads.]


    My heart quickens just slightly. It''s a guess, but...


    This is what I need. If I''m going to pluck out a shard of the Interface, if I''m going to do any sort of surgery with the soul¡ªthen Concepts and Threads, whatever they are, are going to form the core of what I need. Without the Dungeon and the Ritual, I wouldn''t have known about either.


    "Come on," I say. "Let''s go find Tarin."

 181 — Book 3, Chapter 40 — Festival

    When we return to the Cliffside Crows, there''s a celebration.


    It''s not that we want a celebration. It''s that Tarin and Mari both insist on it, with flailing wings and loud squawks. I think the thing that turns me around on the whole idea is the fact that they''ve clearly been preparing for this the entire time we were in the Empty City. Tarin hadn''t doubted me for a second¡ªthe moment we left, he and Mari began the preparations.


    "You do this for me," Tarin says, gesturing to Naru. He sleeps in the corner of the hut, chest moving slowly up and down; there''s no apparent indication that he''s hurt, but I can tell from the feel of his Firmament that he isn''t going to be waking up. Not without some soul surgery. "So I do this for you, yes?"


    There''s something unspoken in his words. He doesn''t need to say them for me to understand.


    This is a goodbye.


    For now, anyway. Until the Trial is over. Tarin isn''t going to remember any of the loops after this one, so whatever happens, however much I grow, I''m going to be doing it without him. I''m not even sure if he''ll remember this loop. It all depends on how the Interface works out.


    More likely than not, he won''t. However the Interface helps us keep our memories, it seems to trigger at the end of each loop; for him to remember, he''d need to have that Interface shard within him when the loop ends. If I''m extracting it and transferring it to Naru, then whatever remains won''t hold during the reset.


    Unless there''s something about the loops I don''t understand, of course. For once, I hope there is. I don''t want Tarin to lose this final loop.


    "Maybe the universe will be kind for once," Ahkelios suggests, nudging me. I smile¡ªI know he''s trying to make me feel better.


    Maybe it will. Or maybe we''ll just have to forge that kindness for ourselves.


    Either way, the celebration proceeds with great gusto. The crows all gather to sing songs, to have a feast. For the first time, I''m served with something that isn''t just grub and insects¡ªit''s a little charred, and they''re clearly not used to cooking it, but Mari tells me she hunted a beast down herself and then practiced until what she produced was "decent".


    It is, in fact, "decent". Charred and strangely seasoned as it is, it''s still the best steak I''ve ever had. Maybe there''s something to that whole thing of putting love into cooking.


    Or maybe Mari cheated. There are some suspiciously empty jars scattered around her workstation, and when I ask her about them, all she tells me is that they had "secret ingredients". What that means, I have no idea; Ahkelios tells me there are traces of weird plants in there.


    But it''s nice. Meeting old friends, being in the village again. It''s a reminder of the early loops, of the fact that these crows were the people that took me in and helped me when I barely knew what was going on with the Trials.


    Granted, that only happened after their village was nearly destroyed by a Raid, but that''s besides the point.


    Virin, Rotar, and Akar are there; none of them remember the previous loops, but all of them are friendly. Virin in particular is excited to talk about his progress with imbuement now that I''ve partially activated one of his stones¡ªhe doesn''t need me to personally try to activate them now that he''s seen an activation for himself, even a partial one.


    "I break lots of stones," he confides in me, but he says it as if it''s an accomplishment. His daughter giggles, dancing around his legs. There''s a fine layer of stone dust I have to assume came from a multitude of failed activations. "But I learn lots! I have stone that grow plant, stone that break plant, stone that summon worm¡ª"


    "You have a stone that summons a worm?" I ask, interested despite myself. Not because I have any particular fascination with worms, but because of the similarity with what Novi had told me about summons in First Sky. I don''t think I''ve ever encountered a single summoning skill in all my time as a Trialgoer, but if there are stones that can do it...


    "Yes!" Virin nods rapidly, his feathers puffing up with his excitement. And then he pauses in consideration. "I think. Stone explode. Then worm explode."


    I snort a half-laugh. It''s a little morbid, but at least he''s talking about a worm and not something more dangerous. Or more alive. "You should be careful with those," I say. "Don''t want to activate something dangerous by accident."


    "Ah, you loop! It fine," he says dismissively. I rap him on the head¡ªgently¡ªand make him look at me.


    "It is not fine," I say, trying to impress this on him. "The loops aren''t always reliable. You do any damage to your Firmament, it''s going to last across the loops. Don''t play around with things if they could hurt you or your daughter."


    I give the smaller crow a significant glance as I say this. Virin doesn''t seem all that concerned about his own safety, but the moment I mention his daughter, he looks appropriately chastised; he nods, his enthusiasm falling away for a moment.


    "You right," he says. "I... I too excited. I careful."


    "At least get Tarin to supervise or something," I suggest mildly. Tarin''s speed should be enough to deal with anything that might emerge from these stones¡ªas far as I''ve seen the skills in them aren''t so dangerous they''ll need something stronger than him to handle, and anything that is that strong Virin likely wouldn''t have enough Firmament to activate.


    "Good idea!" Virin''s eyes flash suddenly.


    I... get the impression I''ve possibly given him an idea that will lead to a lot of suffering for poor Tarin. Oops. I cough and quickly excuse myself¡ªI don''t need him to decide to make me one of his test subjects, too. I''m already documenting the results of all this for him.


    Rotar takes me aside, then, to thank me for rescuing him. We''re in a quiet corner of the village, away from the festivities; Ahkelios seems to have taken to dancing and making full use of his newfound flexibility, and He-Who-Guards is just sitting nearby and watching while entertaining a crowd of curious crow children.


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    "I can''t remember much about my time in there," he admits. "There are fragments. I remember being scared, and I remember... anger."


    "Probably from the first time I tried to pull you out," I say, a little awkwardly. "Didn''t know what I was doing then."


    Rotar shakes his head. "I wasn''t complaining," he says. "I''ve been trying to work out what I saw before... you know. Before time resets and I lose all my memories of it. I think I have a better idea now, but I''m not sure still..."


    He fidgets, full of anxiety. I sit him down, concerned, and take a seat next to him. "What''s on your mind?" I prompt.


    "You remember why we went to Isthanok in the first place?" Rotar asks. He produces the oracle a moment later¡ªit still warns of danger, of course. But we know the source of that danger now, and oddly enough, Rotar seems a lot more calm now that he knows.


    Probably because there isn''t that much he can do about it. And probably because he knows I''m working on it. It''s an odd thing, being trusted.


    "Sure," I say, mostly because Rotar seems to be waiting for me to say more as he gathers the courage to say more. He stares at the glass orb for another minute, still fidgeting.


    And then he smashes it, flinching as the glass explodes and cuts into his wing. I blink, startled. My body''s reinforced enough now that the glass does nothing to me, but I reach out anyway, automatically weaving a bit of Life Concept and Firmament into the wound.


    Just like that, it heals shut. We both stare at each other for a moment.


    "...I didn''t even know I could do that," I say after a moment.


    "Thank you," Rotar says, flustered. "I¡ªsorry, that got away from me. I don''t want to panic over it every loop. I don''t know if there''s a way to stop me, or if maybe I''ll remember enough that I won''t find it and panic, but..."


    "Tarin will remember enough to calm you down, at least," I point out, and that seems to calm him down. He takes a few breaths.


    "I... wanted to tell you..." he starts. "I don''t remember much, but..."


    I wait. Whatever this is, Rotar seems to have a lot of difficulty talking about it; I can sort of sympathize.


    "I think the monsters are gonna get worse," he says in a rush. "A lot worse. I can''t remember much, but I think¡ªI think I saw the future, somehow? And there was so much wrong, so many... Naru called them Tears?"


    "He did," I say quietly.


    "They were everywhere," he says. "I don''t know if it was a vision or a warning but¡ªif you''re going to deal with them¡ªplease, there are a lot and I don''t think we can handle them on our own¡ª"


    He''s panicking again, the poor guy. I wave a hand in front of him to catch his attention, because he''s staring off at nothing, and then draw his attention back to me.


    "Focus on what you can do," I tell him. It''s advice that''s helped me whenever I''ve felt like this. "I''ll do what I can. I owe the crows a lot, you know? So trust me to handle anything Trial related. In the meantime, maybe there''s something you can do to help?"


    I say it not because I need his help, but because he need something to focus on. Rotar takes a few more rapid breaths, casting his eyes about, but the thought does seem to steady him; his breathing slows. "I could..." he begins. "I could help Virin with his imbuement stones. That''s something that''ll help you, right?"


    "I think so," I say, giving him an encouraging smile. "Anything else?"


    "I think..." Rotar hesitates a bit. "I think I could pinpoint... the... source? I saw a lot of Tears and a lot of monsters, but some of the monsters had places they came from. I don''t know if I can do it before this loop ends, but if I can, I can tell Tarin or Naru about them, and... would that help?"


    I blink. "That could help a lot, actually," I say. I''m not sure exactly what Rotar''s talking about, but I have a few guesses. One of them is that he remembers fragments of Tear locations, and that''s almost certainly going to be helpful.


    The other is that what he saw was glimpses of Remnants.


    I haven''t encountered any real Remnants besides Ahkelios, but I know they''re out there, based on what the Heart said. The problem has always been that I have no way to search for them. I almost found something last time, when I was diving through Temporal Link and into the blood-specter in the Carusath Tear, but I couldn''t quite pinpoint the Remnant before the link expired.


    If Rotar caught visions of these Remnants while he was in the Fracture, I might be able to use those visions to find them. He seems encouraged by my response, too¡ªI can already see the resolve firming up in his eyes, the determination.


    "Okay," he says. He nods, first to himself and then again to me. "I''ll do that then. I''ll... I''ll probably need a couple of days?"


    He says it like a question, like he''s asking for permission. I raise an eyebrow. "I''ll do my best not to die for a few days," I say dryly.


    "That''s¡ªthat''s not what I meant!" he hurries to explain, looking flustered. I laugh and pat him on the head.


    "I know what you meant," I say. "You''ll probably have time. If anything, you should try not to get blown up helping Virin."


    "I don''t¡ªthat might happen?" Rotar stares at me wide-eyed. "I might just stick to the memories..."


    "Might be for the best." I can''t deny being a little amused, but Rotar looks like he''s feeling a lot better now, at least.


    "I''m going to start right now," he decides. "I''ll see you later. Enjoy¡ªuh, I hope you enjoy the celebration! Tarin worked hard on it."


    "Yeah." I glance back out to the crow village, listen to the sounds of celebration and music and singing, both good and bad. "I know."


    It''s good to see them enjoying themselves like this. For a moment, I think back to Earth¡ªwonder how everyone else is doing. I wonder if any celebrations have been held recently, if there''s anything to celebrate.


    I hope so.


    "Ethan!" Tarin finds me in the corner and immediately grabs my arm to drag me back to the festivities. "Why you sitting alone! Come join!"


    "I was talking to Rotar," I explain, although by this time the other crow is nowhere to be found; Tarin gives me a look that''s best described as a mix of affronted and baffled.


    "Rotar not here! You come back," he says. I just let him drag me back to it all. I watch Ahkelios grab a half-dozen different crows into dances¡ªhe is really enjoying having a new body¡ªand listen as Guard tells stories to crow children. He seems at home with them, with telling stories. In a different life...


    What would they have been, if not for the Trials and the Integrators?


    I let myself enjoy this. Let the sound of joy wash over me, partake in the food and music. I let Ahkelios drag me into a dance, though he finds out very quickly that I have no sense of rhythm, and then let Guard pull me into a tale as the hero of a story. I almost protest¡ªthe thought of being a hero makes me uncomfortable¡ªbut I see the shining eyes looking up at me...


    I say nothing.


    For now, a celebration and a goodbye. Tarin drags me around, introducing me to every crow he can think of, telling me facts about them I''m going to try and probably fail to remember. Mari brags loudly to anyone that will listen about accomplishments she can''t possibly remember, most likely from Tarin''s tales about our journey.


    It feels like a home I haven''t had in a long, long time. Not even with my own family.


    And soon...


    I glance at Tarin''s hut, where Naru sleeps.


    Soon, I try something I''ve never tried before.


    Soul surgery.

 182 — Book 3, Chapter 41 — Soul Surgery

    The first Road.


    Tarin and Naru both lie on little nests of twigs and leaves in front of me. Mari stands nearby, her usual confident demeanor marred by an anxious wringing of her wings¡ªshe knows what this means. Knows what we''re risking. There''s a decent chance that if I give Naru the ability to remember, he''ll... well, he''ll have the chance to use it against me.


    But I''ve already decided what to do. The only thing that''s right. If it backfires, if he tries to betray me, I''ll deal with it then.


    For what it''s worth, I don''t think he will. What he did to try to remember...


    I shake my head. All kinds of extreme.


    "Are you ready?" I ask. Tarin nods. Mari doesn''t speak, although I can tell she''s worried. She''s trying her best to suppress that worry, to be the pillar of the family in a time of need.


    It''s unspoken, but we all know that there''s a chance this could go very, very wrong. I''m already prepared to pull back and abort on the off chance that I''m not yet strong enough to do what I need to do. If it looks for even a moment like Tarin or Naru are breaking, I''ll have seconds to fix whatever happened and repair it or reverse the procedure entirely.


    The question is more for myself, really. Ahkelios and Guard stand by at the side, in case something goes awry and they need to help, but the main factor in all this is me. Firmament Control, the Abstract Crown¡ªthose things have to be enough for me to figure out what''s wrong with Naru''s core and repair it. They have to be enough for me to move a piece of the Interface, a Firmament construct so complex I''ve barely even scratched the surface of what it can do.


    I take a deep breath and begin.


    "That feel weird," Tarin complains almost immediately. I shoot a look at him and he quiets, though not without shooting me a half-grin that tells me he''s messing with me.


    I''m going to miss the old crow. No going back after this.


    His core is... strange. I feel it out first with my senses, and then with Firmament Control. It''s so vastly different from my own that it''s hard to even recognize that it''s a core at first¡ªit takes me a moment to realize that that''s because he''s a layer or two beneath me, and his soul isn''t quite as clearly defined as mine is.


    It''s still very much him. I can feel static and lighting sparking against my power as I reach into him with a mixture of Firmament Control and the partial affinity granted by the Abstract Crown. I can feel the Interface shard lodged inside of him, and just looking at it with my senses tells me my instincts were correct.


    It isn''t just Firmament. Firmament is a bulk of it, yes¡ªthe Interface is acting almost like... a receiver? I can''t tell what it does, but I can tell that it''s a shard of my Interface, and that there''s a sort of identifier associated with it. Something that says that this is not just a Trialgoer but the Trialgoer, the center of the loop; something that says that when all of time is reset and rewound, this person''s memories must not be touched.


    And then accompanying that, there''s a Concept. What that Concept is I''m not entirely sure. It takes a moment or two of examination, of trying to pinpoint exactly what it encapsulates, but it makes sense the moment I grasp it.


    The Concept of a Fixture. A fixed point in the world as time moves around it. No doubt that same Concept is within me, rooted in every part of my core in just the same way.


    In Tarin, though? It''s wound around the shard of Interface and digs roots into his core, beating in time with every pulse of Firmament from the Interface. Almost like a heart, actually.


    Now that I look more closely at it, it resembles the kind of damage that''s been done to Naru. I frown a bit¡ªthe pattern of the roots resembles the pattern of the cracks in Naru''s core. Surely that''s not a coincidence?


    The difference, of course, is that the roots do no damage to Tarin''s soul. If anything, they create a region of strengthened soul-stuff, around which Firmament seems to be gathering.


    A thought strikes me and I pause. I narrow my eyes, examining what''s happening more carefully, trying to understand. What if¡ª


    "What?" Tarin squawks, looking at me, then at Mari, then at me again. "What happening?"


    "I''m still just looking," I say, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. As much as I understand the anxiety, Tarin keeps twitching in a way that''s distracting; I''m starting to worry that he''ll talk at the wrong moment and distract me. Maybe we should have put Tarin to sleep for this; I''d suggested it earlier, but Tarin had staunchly refused.


    But Mari''s got to have a few herbs we could feed to him. Even if she doesn''t, Akar almost definitely does. I''m willing to bet she''s had to do all this before. "Listen, Tarin, maybe we should just let you sleep through this¡ª"


    "No!" Tarin says immediately. "I want see!"


    Of course he does. It''s the same thing he said before. I sigh, though not without a bit of fond exasperation, and turn my attention back to that region of strengthened soul-stuff.


    I''m going to just... ignore the way Tarin twitches at me.


    It''s hard to put into words exactly what a soul or a core is. It isn''t just Firmament, though Firmament makes up a large part of it. It''s something more fundamental than that. I struggle to find the word for it. A container?


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    It''s the best word I can think of, though it still doesn''t feel... right, exactly. It''s a form of Firmament that can create and hold other types of Firmament. It''s Firmament that''s uniquely yours, that generates and distills and interprets everything else you come into contact with.


    Your soul, in other words. Soul Firmament, maybe?


    That feels about right. Not perfect, but right. It might be more accurate to simply replace the word "Soul" with the name of the practitioner; Tarin''s core is made of Tarin Firmament, for instance. And that shard of the Interface is reinforcing that base layer of Firmament. Reinforcing the element of the soul in one area over all the rest, making one section more... Tarin.


    I''m going to stick with the "Soul" term, I think. Mostly for my own sanity.


    Either way, that area of reinforced soul is causing all the rest of the Firmament within Tarin to slowly collect around the Interface shard. Around the center of his soul. It''s almost like¡ª


    [Thread of Insight activated!]


    ¡ªalmost like a proper, fully-formed core.


    Like mine.


    The Interface helps Trialgoers achieve phase shifts. Is this how it does it? A passive soul-reinforcement that accelerates the gathering of Firmament over time? If I''m right, this makes Tarin a second-layer practitioner, and the action of the Interface shard is slowly nudging him toward the third layer. It''ll take time for him to get there, at this rate, but it is helping him.


    The notification about the Thread barely registers to me. I blink once to dismiss it, then turn my attention to figuring out how to remove it. If it''s so deeply entrenched within Tarin, if it''s actually helping him shift to the third layer, then it''s going to be even harder to remove. Maybe if I can reinforce it myself, somehow, thread a Concept through those roots to replace the Fixture...


    I move away from Tarin for a moment and examine Naru instead, trying to understand the differences, and almost immediately understand what I couldn''t before.


    The cracks are only cracks because the Concept that once filled them has been withdrawn. I can sense a remnant of them, a sort of residue left behind¡ªNaru''s appears to have been Destruction. The Interface fragment within him, however, is a dead thing; it remains connected to the greater constructed, but it doesn''t pulse the way mine does.


    It''s keeping him contained.


    That''s the first thought that comes to mind. Naru and Versa have both talked about their ability to gain credits from helping in the Trial, but neither of them have talked about progressing in their phase shift¡ªand why wouldn''t they, if phase shifts are so important? If a phase shift represents a change in power so drastic that it bridges the gap between skill rarities, then why wouldn''t they chase that instead of more skills?


    The answer has to be that they can''t phase shift anymore. At the very least, it has to be difficult, if the Interface no longer supports the process. Withdrawing those Concept tendrils does a sort of permanent damage that would interfere with any future attempt. It''d be easier to phase shift if they''d just never made contact with the Interface at all.


    So... what picture does this paint, exactly? Trialgoers are gathered up for Trials and offered the chance at power. If they succeed, they become leaders on their home planet, nearly unbeatable because of the sheer power they possess compared to the rest of the population. Even when everyone has access to Firmament, the advantage given to the Trialgoers by their skills is insurmountable unless you''re a layer or two above them, and without the Interface, no local population is going to be able to reach that point.


    But in exchange, those Trialgoers also give up the opportunity for any future, meaningful growth. They can''t grow enough to become a threat to the Integrators. Or whoever''s behind the Integrators, which I''m beginning to suspect more and more is a thing.


    They can keep gathering skills. They can try to save up their credits to acquire a Rank SSS skill, even.


    But then there''s a whole new rank of skills inaccessible to the average Trialgoer. Imbued skills, like Primordial Foray and Great Filter; skills I haven''t seen anyone talk about. Skills even Gheraa didn''t mention. I think back to the automatic imbuement offered by the Interface the moment I achieved any sort of proficiency with imbuement.


    It doesn''t want us to figure out imbued skills, I realize. That''s why that function exists¡ªit''s a shortcut for imbuement that makes everything easier. It''s a shortcut that''s meant to prevent me from realizing that skills themselves can be imbued, one within another, in a way that amplifies their power exponentially.


    "Ethan."


    I blink and look up.


    He-Who-Guards and Ahkelios are both standing in front of me, looking concerned. Guard''s hand rests on my shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asks. "You seem... distressed."


    "I''m¡ªI''m fine." I shake my head, blinking a few times to try to clear the weight of my thoughts.


    This isn''t exactly a huge revelation. I already know that the Interface is lying, that the Integrators seek control; this is just another layer to the manipulation. It''s realizing how detailed it all is that makes my head ache. It''s the way a half-dozen things are suddenly connected in my mind.


    I try to clear my thoughts. All these things are important, but none of them are the problem at hand.


    "I just... realized a few things," I say when I realize Guard and Ahkelios are still staring at me; I clear my throat and offer a weak smile. "I''ll tell you all about it later. Need to figure out how to fix Naru. And how to do this without hurting Tarin."


    "I trust!" Tarin declares almost immediately, even though I''m not looking at him. I laugh.


    "Yes, I know. Thank you, Tarin."


    Revelations aside, I''m reasonably sure I now know what I need to do.


    First, extract the shard of the Interface from Tarin. I reach out with Firmament Control, grasp it with the mental equivalent of delicate tweezers¡ª


    ¡ªand almost immediately, Tarin seizes on his bed. The slightest tweak of that shard has the crow crying out in alarm, and the reason why becomes very quickly clear.


    The Interface has a defense mechanism. The moment I touch it with Firmament Control, it lashes out, threads of its Concept trying to fight me off; the Fixture roots all throughout Tarin''s soul quite literally rip through it to try to tear through my control. My eyes widen with panic¡ªI try to suppress it, to force that new sense of Concept to hold the roots back, but there are so many of them, each one squirming around every thread of control establish, every foothold I assume, and even when I withdraw it continues, flaying through his soul¡ª


    <hr>


    The Road Not Taken ends there, and I jerk forward as the visions slam into me; I keep my eyes held tightly shut as I work to establish control over my breathing. Calm. None of that happened. The knowledge I gained is real, but the situation is not. Tarin remains in front of me, his soul intact.


    I''m suddenly very glad I decided to do a trial run with The Road Not Taken. It''s... costly, in terms of Firmament. Even just choosing to start the surgery an hour earlier blows through a good portion of my Firmament. I''ll need to take a moment to recover.


    But with this, at least, I''ll have as many tries as I need to get it right.


    I''m not going to risk Tarin''s life. Not for anything. I have the tools to make it work, and I''m damn well going to use them.

 183 — Book 3, Chapter 42 — Transferral

    "He is pushing himself too far," Guard said.


    Ethan was deep within a Road Not Taken trance. Ahkelios paced around him, clearly anxious, and He-Who-Guards sat with Mari. She radiated with worry about her husband¡ªand her son, although to a lesser extent¡ªand Guard was trying to lend her what comfort he could.


    Admittedly, Ethan''s repeated failures weren''t helping, although Guard wasn''t entirely sure that failure was the right word at this point. He''d last heard the human muttering something about completing a shift? He wasn''t sure he''d heard it right, but it was very possible he''d once again pushed past "complete the task" into "overachieve the task".


    Very Ethan. Guard could guess at his motivations, too; if he was going to leave Tarin behind, let him guard the village, then he wanted Tarin to be strong enough to stop anything else the Trials or the Interface tried to throw at him.


    But he was pushing himself too hard. Ethan was clearly exhausted: he''d been sweating enough that the dirt beneath him was now starting to turn more into mud, and "damp" was no longer an accurate descriptor of his clothes. He''d probably be in a worse state if the rest of them hadn''t insisted he take breaks to drink water and scarf down some food, but even then, Ethan had been going at this for...


    Eight hours and forty-three minutes, his internal clock helpfully supplied.


    Yes. That. More than was healthy for any human to strain at a task, Guard was pretty sure, in part because using the skill seemed to put a sort of physical stress on Ethan. He wasn''t sure how or why, exactly, but his sensors detected muscle fatigue and lactic acid buildup and microtears just as if he''d been running a marathon for the past eight hours.


    And forty-three minutes, his internal clock helpfully supplied again, and Guard sighed.


    Yes. And that.


    His AI partner was... partially back online again, but only partially. Apparently his automatic repair systems were enough to restore some of the damaged wiring and circuitry. He''d thought time would reset long before that happened, but here they were, still alive. How long would this loop last, he wondered?


    Not long, if Ethan pushed himself to the point of having a heart attack. Guard was starting to get more and more concerned that that might happen.


    "That''s the kind of thing he does," Ahkelios muttered beside him; he rubbed at his face in what was either exasperation or affection, Guard wasn''t certain. Perhaps both.


    "We should stop him," he said. "Or convince him to take a break."


    "Let''s give him another hour," Ahkelios said. Guard tilted his head, a silent question, and Ahkelios shrugged. "Another hour to figure it out, and then we make him take a break. He''s focused enough that it''s probably a bad idea to force him to stop unless he''s really going to die or something."


    "You know this from your travels with him?" Guard asked curiously. Ahkelios snorted.


    "No," he said, and then reconsidered. "Maybe? I haven''t seen him this focused before. But he sometimes gets it into his head that he has to do something, and honestly, he usually succeeds. You''ve seen it yourself, right? I get the feeling if we interrupt, it''s just going to cause more problems."


    "A feeling," Guard asked, "or a memory?"


    Ahkelios grimaced. "You caught me," he said dryly. "Yeah, I might have glimpsed a memory or two. Not on purpose. Trust me, you do not want to interrupt that man if he''s focused."


    <hr>


    At some point over the past... however long it''s been, my goals shifted slightly.


    I''m still trying to heal Naru and transfer the Interface shard to him from Tarin. But there''s an opportunity, too. That Interface shard sitting inside Tarin, slowly reinforcing his soul? It''s created just enough of a core that I think I can accelerate the process. Push him all the way until he''s at the cusp of the third shift.


    I can''t push him across myself, but just giving that to him will be enough. If he manages to complete the shift, the Cliffside Crows are almost guaranteed to never be in danger again, even if a Trialgoer targets them. Unless it''s one of the really strong ones, but even then, they have a sort of truce with each other, don''t they?


    That truce exists because they know they''re more trouble for each other than it''s worth. I can put Tarin in that same position, if he wants it.


    And he does. I''ve asked. He knows as well as I do that the Cliffside Crows have attracted enough attention that they''re unlikely to stay safe, in this loop or any other.


    The alternative is leaving Tarin with the same network of cracks Naru has now. A permanent mark that prevents his core from healing itself properly, from allowing him to achieve his next shift. He knows this¡ªis willing to take that risk¡ªbut I''m not willing to leave him with it.


    Besides, figuring this out will help me guide both Ahkelios and Guard to their next-layer shifts. It''s more or less the best opportunity I''ve got for this kind of thing.


    It is, however, exhausting. Every use of The Road Not Taken¡ªevery time I go back and load my path with more changes and choices and knowledge, it costs more Firmament. It draws a physical toll on me, too. I think something about the skill actually discharges all that lost, alternate time through my body. How it does that or what the side effects are I have no idea, but in practice it feels a little like I''m forcing myself through a full-body workout for the entire period I spend in that alternate path.


    I tell myself it''s fine. Physical pain is nothing. I''m ensuring the future of my friends. I''m ensuring Tarin''s future and all the little crows he takes care of.


    It''s worth it.


    I think that''s the reason Tarin doesn''t say anything. Guard and Ahkelios are quite clearly worried, and even Mari doesn''t quite understand why I''m throwing myself into this with the fervor that I am, but Tarin does. He''s felt it in my Firmament, that determination to make sure I''ve given back to the crows, and any protests he might''ve had died before they escaped his beak.


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    Now for the... sixth try, I think. Maybe seventh. I''ve lost count. I''ve been told to take more breaks, and I will; I am certainly going to take a break before I try this for real. But I feel like I''m on the cusp of a breakthrough. I just need to figure out how the layers fit together, how to create a supplemental Concept that Tarin can replace with his own when he breaches the third layer.


    I reach for the skill and brace myself.


    The Road Not Taken.


    The world warps around me, and I try again. Trigger the Knight Inspiration, and then the Generator Form; the boost it gives me to Firmament Control is exactly what I need to touch the Interface shard delicately enough that it doesn''t trigger that defensive response. Use the Abstract Crown to layer my own network of conceptual roots atop each Fixture, then bind them together with metaphorical glue. Draw them out so slowly they don''t realize what''s happening.


    That''s step one. I place the Interface shard carefully to the side; I figured this out several tries ago. It''s not the part that''s difficult. The part that''s difficult is constructing something of my own in its place. The placeholder roots aren''t enough. It needs to be something solid, something real...


    Something Tarin.


    I can''t use another shard of the Interface¡ªit''s too complicated for me to hope to break apart safely, let alone manipulate into Tarin''s soul, and it wouldn''t fulfill his request besides. Nor can I just stuff Firmament into the hole and hope it draws in more, though a part of me was hoping it''d be that easy. If I want to use something for this, it has to be something of Tarin''s own, something so very him that it can act as a calling card for the rest of his soul...


    Slowly, I call upon Intrinsic Lightning. A trickle of black Firmament flickers around my fingers, sparking with electricity.


    Every skill construct contains copies of itself. That''s what Gheraa told me. Even small fragments can regrow into complete skills, given enough time. That''s all Tarin needs here¡ªjust a small piece of Intrinsic Lightning, a skill that was only ever granted to me because of him in the first place.


    Now I''m giving it back to him, in a way.


    Slowly, I mold the skill fragment, working it into a new shape. It struggles in my grasp¡ªit wants to be used, wants to unleash itself as lightning and fury and power¡ªbut I keep it corralled and contained, pushing it down, compressing it.


    I''ve tried this twice already. Each time it exploded the moment my grip loosened, unleashing itself in a violent torrent of energy. Lightning doesn''t like to be contained, and neither does Tarin. It''s something I should have expected.


    So I try something just a little different.


    I remember the way Tarin used his Firmament back in the Arena. The way it flickered over his feathers, wild and free. I remember the way he gave himself over to it, allowed it to control his reactions to things he couldn''t possibly have reacted to on his own.


    Chaos and adaptability is a part of who he is. He''s not the type to plan far ahead or to sit back; he makes his decisions in the moment, allows himself to go with whatever he''s feeling at any given moment. It''s frustrating, sometimes¡ªhe mirrors me in recklessness¡ªbut it''s gotten him this far, hasn''t it? Throwing himself into things with his whole heart, allowing himself to be led by his emotions.


    It''s how he nearly died and ended up with me in the loop. It''s the reason he spent a whole loop looking for me when I was thrown forward through time in a temporal storm.


    It''s why he''s Tarin.


    So when the shard of Intrinsic Lightning in my grasp lashes out, fighting back, I let it. I release my hold on that piece of it and allow it to strike out. Firmament shoots outward, a burning tendril of black energy that forks and sputters¡ª


    ¡ªand settles into the perfect shape of one of the cracks left behind in Tarin''s soul. I watch in something akin to wonder as it weaves itself into Tarin, settling in like it belongs there. Already, I can feel Tarin''s Firmament beginning to shift in response.


    "Ethan?" Tarin calls. "It working? It feel weird."


    "It''s working," I say.


    I keep a tenuous grasp on the skill shard. I can''t let go of it entirely¡ªit still needs to be compressed and molded to even have a hope of fitting. But this time, when it tries to push back again, I just let it.


    Another tendril of lightning settles perfectly into one of the cracks. Progress. I push down on the rest of the skill, trying to remember what Gheraa taught me. There''s too little skill fragment here for me to convert into a Firmament engine the way he taught me, but I can mimic the construct in smaller ways. I can make it process Firmament more efficiently, make it able to take in more than just Tarin''s own Firmament...


    It''s a long, slow process. Compression, conversion, all while letting the skill do what it wants whenever it tries to break free. It''s taxing and dangerous, and I know if I let go of it at the wrong moment, it could do some serious damage to us both.


    I do my best to keep myself still and focused. The Knight helps me, too, though it seems to find this sort of work beneath it; it grumbles in my head, but lends me the power it has.


    It takes one more try after this. I slip the first time¡ªthe skill combusts in my grasp as I try to move it one step further, and I have to take a short break. My limbs barely obey me when I''m back in the real world, and I''m drenched with sweat.


    I cannot wait to take a hot shower.


    But first things first. I try a final time, reaching through time with my skill...


    And it finally, finally works.


    Naru''s own procedure is simple in comparison. After everything with Tarin, it doesn''t take more than a few minutes for me to transplant the shard into him, to push those Concept roots through the cracks in his soul and seal them shut. There''s a pulse within him, like his entire core is finally taking a long-awaited breath, and a smoothing out of his breathing that tells me he''s in a more natural form of sleep.


    I poke him awake.


    "Wha¡ª" Naru''s eyes widen as he takes in what I look like; I remember belatedly that I''m still in the Generator Form. He lets out a squawk of terror and promptly falls off his bed, trying to throw some Firmament skill or the other at me. I don''t even know what it is, but I Phaseshift so I can grab it and shatter it. "Ethan?"


    "I made it so you''ll remember the loops," I tell him, my voice distorted by the armor. He stares at me, nonplussed and unsure how to react.


    "Why did¡ªThank you?" he looks around. "What..."


    Eh. He''s not immediately attacking me or anything. Good enough to make sure he wasn''t planning on some immediate betrayal.


    I end the skill.


    "I need a shower," I announce. "And to sleep for twelve hours or something. I''ll do this for real after."


    Tarin blinks at me. "It work?"


    I grin at him. "It worked," I say. "Now we just need to do it for real."


    And I have to be very sure I don''t mess it up.


    When I exit the shower, I find Guard heating a makeshift cauldron with the blasters in his hands. I blink at him, and he makes a beeping sound I interpret as a sheepish grin.


    "It was the fastest way to get hot water," he says. "It is not a shower, but that will have to wait for Isthanok."


    I could hug him, but given I''m covered in sweat and mud, I decide not to.


    Instead, I collapse into the makeshift tub, clothes and all.


    Which is a bad decision. I realize quite quickly that I don''t have the energy to lift myself back into a normal sitting position from how I''ve collapsed into the tub. Ahkelios has to pick me up to get my head out of the water. "Thanks," I say.


    "Just making sure you don''t drown yourself before you do the surgery you just worked so hard to perfect," Ahkelios says dryly.


    "I was trying to pretend I didn''t just do that."


    "I know." He grins. "You''re not very good at it."


    "Shut up, ''Kelios." Did he always have a tongue? Because he''s sticking it out at me right now. How mature.


    It''s a good moment, though. A clean victory, for once. I let out a sigh and allow myself a smile.


    Just one more step and I''ll be done. What could go wrong?

 184 — Book 3, Chapter 43 — A New Era

    I am, in all honesty, quite surprised when nothing actually goes wrong. I was half-expecting to wake up in a new loop, all activities in the last one erased from some terrible event in my sleep. Or an inconveniently timed heart attack. Maybe both.


    But no. I wake up in bed¡ªI don''t even remember getting out from the tub and into a bed, and certainly not getting into dry clothes¡ªrefreshed and ready to go, and nothing goes wrong.


    Not even during the surgery. It goes exactly as planned with only minor variations; Guard and Ahkelios, for instance, are watching a lot more closely this time around. Mari sits nearby, feet nervously tapping against the dirt. It''s early enough in the day that the village is remarkably silent.


    Besides those things, everything is identical to what I experienced when I used The Road Not Taken, down to Naru''s reactions to being woken from his sleep.


    "Why did¡ªThank you?" Naru looks around. "What..."


    "You''re back home," I say. Tarin''s already sitting up, but he watches Naru quietly, not saying a word. Naru freezes when he finally realizes where he is and who''s around him. There''s an instant where he almost reacts impulsively¡ªI can see the way his entire body tenses and the way he begins to curse¡ªbut he chokes it back down, making a strangled noise in this throat.


    "Tell me what happened," he finally says. "Please."


    He says the word like he isn''t quite used to it.


    "He not shout?" Tarin sounds impressed. "You change."


    Naru''s eyes narrow, and I feel an immediate flare of anger. "That''s all it takes?" he starts, jolting up from the makeshift bed. It''s only the lance of pain that courses through him that makes him sit back down with a wince.


    "I just performed surgery on your core," I say dryly. "You might not want to use any skills yet."


    "Just... please tell me what happened," he says again, rubbing his face with his hands.


    It''s Tarin that launches into an explanation. The old crow''s expression becomes uncharacteristically serious, and he tells Naru an account of what happened at the Carusath Tear that more or less matches exactly what I told him. Honestly, I''m surprised he was paying that much attention; he''d seemed a lot more distracted when I was first telling him about it.


    Not that surprised. It''s Naru we''re talking about. I watch the two of them as they talk, and after a moment, I shake my head.


    "Come on," I say to both Ahkelios and Guard. "Let''s let them talk in peace. We need to figure some things out ourselves, anyway. Like what''s going on with your Interface, Ahkelios. Guard, I want to know more about your Firmament¡ªwhatever you''re comfortable sharing."


    <hr>


    Naru didn''t know what to think.


    Of course, he didn''t know what he was thinking back when he''d carved that symbol into his core, either. His memories of that moment were fuzzy. He remembered feeling an overwhelming sense of regret, remembered feeling small in a way he hadn''t felt since the Trial.


    It was different from before, though. Before, he''d felt small because he couldn''t live up to Tarin or Mari''s expectations of him. No matter what he did, it felt like he wasn''t enough; he was small in comparison to what they wanted him to be.


    With Ethan, he felt small in comparison to what he could be. In comparison to the world at large. Like he''d been forcibly shown that his place in the universe was much, much smaller than he''d convinced himself it was.


    He couldn''t stand it. The idea that he''d be that small forever¡ªthat he''d just live in ignorance of how tiny he was, convinced of the grandiose lie he''d been telling himself ever since he became a Trialgoer¡ªit rankled at his pride. He wanted to be more.


    And Ethan had given him that chance...


    No. Tarin had.


    Ethan saved him, but Tarin gave him his Interface shard. The fragment of pure chance that allowed him to remember the loops. Without that he would''ve been lost again¡ªeven if Ethan managed to undo the damage, he wouldn''t remember why it was done in the first place. He''d just stay as a puppet of the Integrators, fighting a war he didn''t even care about.


    Naru struggled to remember why he''d been so convinced in the first place that the Integrators were impossible to fight. That the role he played was the best one he could''ve had. All that actually happened under his rule was...


    He grimaced at the memory. His guards. He needed to do something about that, and he didn''t know how.


    But there was something more important he needed to do first.


    Tarin was looking at him expectantly. So was Mari, for that matter. For once in their lives they weren''t squawking at him, telling him what to do and when to do it. They weren''t reminding him how much of a disappointment he was.


    Though maybe that wasn''t a fair assessment. Had they said that to him directly? He couldn''t remember anymore. He just remembered the feelings.


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    He opened his beak to speak, but to his surprise, Tarin spoke first.


    "Naru," he said, his words grave. "You... not good crow. You hurt. Take."


    Naru tensed, a snarl starting to rise in his throat. Was this still how it was? Even after all this? Tarin had sacrificed for him, sure, but that didn''t give him the right to¡ª


    "But," Tarin continued, and Naru froze. "Maybe it because we also not good crow. Maybe we not there when you need."


    "Should have broken into Trial," Mari muttered. "Break tower for breaking son."


    Naru blinked. What were they even saying?


    "You try?" Tarin asked. "Try be good crow. We try too."


    The Trialgoer found his throat was dry. Even he knew that he was the one that needed to apologize here; it was difficult for him to acknowledge, to admit it, but he''d been the one to lose himself in the Trial. Tarin and Mari hadn''t been wrong for not giving him power. That the Trial happened exactly afterward was nothing more than terrible coincidence¡ª


    ¡ªor, Naru realized a little belatedly, intentional. On the part of the Integrators, not on the part of his parents. Choosing someone who just had a rift torn between him and his family. Someone who wouldn''t have a support network when he returned, brutal and conquering.


    Tarin was... conceding, in a way. Rare for his father¡ªso rare it would''ve been impossible to imagine if he wasn''t seeing it himself. He was, what? Trying to understand?


    Great. Now Naru felt even smaller.


    At least this time, he knew enough not to blame Tarin for it. He sighed, trying to figure out the right words, the right response...


    But in the end, there was only one thing left to say. He swallowed his pride.


    "Thanks, dad." The words felt foreign coming from his beak. Both of them. He cast about for something else to say, anything that could distract him from the words he''d just said. I''m sorry was right there, but he didn''t feel ready to say it yet. Didn''t feel ready to mean it the way he thought he needed to. "I, uh. I could use some help dealing with Carusath."


    There. It was something. An acknowledgement that he needed help, that things were less than perfect. His parents looked at one another, something silent passing between them.


    "Okay," Tarin said. "You tell us what wrong."


    This was easier than an apology. Easier than thinking about... everything else that still hung unsaid between them. Naru didn''t know if he''d ever be a good crow by Tarin''s estimation; a part of him still felt like he''d been right, that force was the only real truth.


    But he was willing to try. He was willing to admit that his methods hadn''t been perfect. Something needed to change.


    Maybe that something was him.


    <hr>


    Ahkelios and I sit on a log next to each other, comparing our Interface screens; Guard stands in front of us both, looking a little disgruntled and trying his best to hide it. I don''t blame him¡ªhe''s the only one in our little party now that doesn''t have an Interface.


    "It is a trap," he grumbles. "You must not fall for it."


    If nothing else, it''s nice to see a side of him that isn''t the whole noble protector thing he has going on. Even if jealousy is kind of a strange look on him.


    "It definitely is a trap," I admit. "But I don''t think it''s any more of a trap than me having an Interface. It''s a trap insofar as it guides your Firmament growth along a specific path and tries to prevent you from discovering too much about Firmament, but I don''t think this is specifically a trap for Ahkelios."


    "We could try to get you attached to the Interface too, if that helps?" Ahkelios offers. Guard makes a noise¡ªa series of high-pitched beeps that I can only interpret as his version of a pout¡ªand shakes his head.


    "I will not stain my soul with the Interface," he declares.


    "Okay, now that''s a little rude," I say, though I''m more amused than anything else.


    Guard hesitates, his optic cycling through a few shades before eventually settling on a shade of light pink. "I... apologize," he says, the words coming out a little stiff.


    I just laugh. "Didn''t figure you for the jealous type, He-Who-Guards."


    "It is not jealousy," Guard protests. Then¡ªto his credit¡ªhe pauses to give the whole thing genuine consideration. When he''s done, he amends the statement slightly. "It is partially jealousy," he admits. "But the concern is true regardless. Given all you''ve discovered about the Interface, for one of us to just be given access to¡ªan event that has never once occurred previously, to my knowledge¡ªit feels too fortuitous. Alarmingly so."


    "I don''t disagree with you there." I glance at Ahkelios. He feels the same way, judging by the way he''s eyeing his Interface screen, even if he''s not being quite as vocal about it. "We''ll keep an eye on it, but for now, we''re going to treat it like the tool it is. We can''t avoid an advantage just because we''re worried it''s a trap."


    "I... suppose that is acceptable," Guard rumbles after a moment. His vents whirr in his version of a sigh, and he moves to sit on the same log as me and Ahkelios.


    His weight nearly launches the two of us into the air.


    I reflexively reinforce the whole log with my Firmament to prevent that from happening. Guard continues like nothing happened, though I catch a flicker of amusement in his optic. "What are the differences between your Interfaces?"


    Did he do that intentionally? I squint at him, though he studiously ignores my gaze; Ahkelios, who seems quite amused by the whole thing, takes the higher road by following his lead and answering the question like he didn''t do anything.


    "I don''t have anything about Skill Mastery unlocked," Ahkelios says. "No Timeline Tracker or Hotspot Tracker, no feature to access the Trial''s database. I think that means I''m not considered a looper the same way Ethan is, but I''m not sure."


    "Biggest question is if time resets if either of us die, or if both of us have to die," I say, deciding to put Guard''s little prank aside. "Plus we''re still linked to each other through Temporal Link. I don''t think that''s intended? He''s got access to my Interface and I have access to his."


    "Can''t trigger your skills or credit rolls or anything, though, so it''s mostly cosmetic," Ahkelios points out. He frowns at his Interface screen. "We should find out what happens if we roll for a skill or if I trigger an Inspiration. I''ve got enough points to try for... well, I''ve technically hit this milestone before, but I don''t have that Inspiration anymore."


    Ahkelios furrows his brows as he thinks on that a little further. "And we''re cut off from the Integrators right now, so who am I going to meet if I trigger one? That Kauku person you mentioned?"


    It''s a good question. I have no idea.


    "Only one way to find out," I say. "You ready to roll some skills?"


    "Honestly," Ahkelios says. "It was really hard not to roll them while you were doing your thing back there."


    "I stopped him a few times," Guard supplies helpfully.


    Ahkelios glares at him. "You weren''t supposed to tell him that!"


    I just snort. "Well, since you''re so excited," I say. And he is excited, judging by the way his wings flutter behind him and the way he keeps glancing impatiently at his Interface screen. "You first."

 185 — Book 3, Chapter 44 — Rolls

    I watch as Ahkelios paces back and forth, trying to decide what to roll first. Despite all his excitement, actually taking the first step and banking his credits is apparently something of a struggle for him.


    For the fourth time in a row, he reaches out as if to select something, hesitates, then pulls his hand back again.


    Can''t blame him, I suppose. It''s been a long time since he''s had his connection to the Interface, and although he hasn''t said it out loud, I can feel through our bond that he''s worried. Worried that the Interface will reject him when he tries to roll for a skill. Worried it''ll throw him some kind of curveball or twist. He''s pretending it''s just indecision, but there''s a lot more to his hesitation than just that.


    "How about Firmament to start?" I ask. It''s more a gentle prod than anything else, meant to help nudge him into making a decision. Ahkelios folds his arms across his chest and frowns at the Interface screen like it might bite him.


    "I don''t know," he says. "I have almost enough Firmament credits to get an Inspiration if I wait a little more with just a few more credits."


    "You''ll need more than one Firmament skill anyway, and it won''t take us that long to get you that 100 credits," I point out. "We''ll need to fight a few more of those Remnants soon, and if we deal with the infestation of chimeras around the village you should have more than enough credits to get a good skill."


    "That''s a good point." Ahkelios continues to hesitate, though. "I just... what if..."


    "Ahkelios," I say, and I make my voice a little gentler. "We aren''t going to find out until you go for it. But we''ll deal with whatever happens together, alright? No matter what the Interface tries."


    Some invisible tension seems to bleed out of Ahkelios, then. He gives me a grateful, tentative smile. "There are still a lot of monsters we have to deal with," he says. "We''re going to need everything we can get."


    "Honestly, it''s a miracle we haven''t run into more," I say, frowning slightly. Given what I''ve heard about the Tears, Hestia should be nearly overrun with monsters. Remnants. Whatever I decide to call them. Monsters doesn''t really feel right anymore. "I''m not sure why."


    "I have collated a set of reports," He-Who-Guards offers helpfully. "If you wish to locate Trial-related monsters for investigation, it will not take us much time to find them. A quick analysis of the data suggests that they''ve been avoiding you, however."


    "Avoiding?" I raise an eyebrow. "Isn''t the point of them that they''re supposed to attack me? Hinder the Trial and such?"


    He-Who-Guards shrugs. "Perhaps your presence is so much of an anomaly that their approach to you is different," he suggests. "Or perhaps there is more to them than we know. I would not be surprised, considering what we saw of Ahkelios''s Remnant."


    "They still attack if you''re within range," Ahkelios says. "I think... I have access to some of Zhir''s memories. Until he took over the real Zhir''s body, he had to stay away from you. Something about being forced to attack you if he''s within range."


    "Huh. Guess that explains a lot." I frown slightly. There are a set of monsters I tend to run into between the Cliffside Crows and the Great Cities, but now that I think about it, I''ve been seeing them less and less. Most of them aren''t really worth mentioning, but... I wonder. "Thanks for putting that together, Guard. I might need to take a look at that data later. Figure out why they''re giving us space."


    It has to be connected with everything else somehow. With the Tears, with Hestia slowly falling apart. They have to know. They''re products of the Tears, after all.


    He-Who-Guards gives me a small nod, his fans whirring a little faster at the praise. Ahkelios, on the other hand, turns back to his Interface and begins talking out loud.


    "Okay," he says. "You''re probably right. I''ll start with Firmament, and then work my way through the other four. Firmament won''t trigger an Inspiration¡ªit''s just under the hundred credit mark¡ªbut I''ve got 127 Strength credits, so it might, depending on whether the Interface accounts for my previous Inspirations. It''s not listed in my Interface, but..."


    He frowns. "It also said welcome back. So I don''t know if it''ll trigger."


    "Only one way to find out," I say once more. Ahkelios nods, and Interface screens begin popping up in front of him; he flicks through the mental commands, accepting the banking of his Firmament credits, then holds his breath as it rolls his skills.


    "You said your Concept makes the Interface offer skills that are similar to it, right?" I ask.


    "Yeah," Ahkelios says, his eyes glued to the Interface. "But we get options based on what we do, too. I''m not so sure I want to stick with the Sword anymore. In theory¡ª"


    [Select between:


    Bladed Touch (Rank C)


    Blade Infusion (Rank C)


    Infused Blade (Rank C)]


    I''m reasonably certain the noise Ahkelios makes is somewhere between outrage and disgust. I stifle a laugh¡ªnot because I find the situation funny, exactly, but because Ahkelios''s expression borders on comical¡ªand place a hand on his shoulder. "Next time?"


    Ahkelios huffs. "Even when I want to change..."


    "You were mostly using your Sword Concept in that fight with Phylus," I point out. "So this particular set of rolls is probably still going to be sword-related."


    The mantis-scirix hybrid lets out a sigh. "Yeah, I know," he says. "I was just hoping I''d get to pick something different. What even is the difference between Infused Blade and Blade Infusion?"


    "You can use my Inspect to check," I say. I could do it for him, but we might as well get used to using one another''s skills. Ahkelios blinks, as though only just remembering he can do that, and then reviews the skills again.


    "Okay," he says. "So, Blade Infusion lets me turn anything into a sword. And Infused Blade lets me infuse a sword with the properties of anything. That makes sense."


    "And Bladed Touch?" I ask.


    "It turns me into a sword," Ahkelios says, somehow perfectly mimicking the dry tone I sometimes adopt. "I can already do that. Don''t need it."


    "I don''t know," I say. I take a step back and look Ahkelios up and down. "I could use a weapon. I usually just punch things."


    Ahkelios levels a look at me. "Ethan. I''m not letting you swing me around like a sword."


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    "Not even if I say please?"


    "No!" Ahkelios tries his best to look offended, but isn''t quite able to stop the grin that''s tugging at the corner of his mouth. After a moment, he gives up. "I blame the new body," he grumbles.


    "Didn''t you say you like the new body?"


    "I do, but I still blame it." Ahkelios sticks his tongue out at me, and I let out a snort of laughter. It looks ridiculous, the tongue sticking out between his mandibles.


    In the end, though, he ends up picking Blade Infusion. We''re generally in agreement there: the nature of the time loop means Ahkelios isn''t always going to have a sword with him. Infused Blade is fundamentally more limited than Blade Infusion in that sense¡ªas much as the skill might have wider applications, it''s essentially a useless skill if he doesn''t have a sword on hand.


    That Ahkelios himself might count as a sword is moot, unfortunately. Inspect tells us in no uncertain terms that the skill doesn''t work that way, and even if it did, altering your own biology to include the properties of other things is... not the smartest idea. Time loop allowing unlimited respawns aside.


    So that''s one skill settled. Next is a test. I break off a piece of the log I''m sitting on and concentrate on the skill Ahkelios just obtained. It''s different from using one of my own skills¡ªthe skill construct is contained within Ahkelios, not within me¡ªso there''s a sort of... delay when it comes to using it. Firmament has to flow down the link to Ahkelios, then back toward me.


    That delay is largely negligible, though. I watch as the twig in my hand takes on a metallic sheen, and when I swing it down against the dirt, it cuts a deep furrow into the soil.


    "Well, that''s good to know," I say. I grin at Ahkelios. "Means we have twice the skill options."


    "We can look for skill synergies!" Ahkelios says excitedly.


    Guard hums in thought. "Are you able to use the same skill at the same time?" he asks after a moment. Ahkelios and I blink and look at one another.


    "Good question," Ahkelios says. "Ethan, you ready? Three, two, one..."


    We both trigger Blade Infusion¡ª


    <hr>


    It turns out the answer to Guard''s question is a resounding "no." It''s not even a partial no¡ªtrying to use the same skill at the same time results in blinding pain that cuts across us both. It feels a little like the entirety of the skill construct is being stretched thin and torn apart, and we both get to feel the feedback from it.


    "Ow," Ahkelios says. He''s lying face-first on the dirt, and it takes me a second to gain my bearings enough to help him off the ground; Guard is watching both of us in a mixture of concern and amusement.


    "Did you know that was going to happen?" I ask. Guard shakes his head.


    "I did not," he says. "Although I suppose I did calculate that it was a possibility. It did not seem likely enough to be worth mentioning"


    "Could''ve warned us still," I mutter, rubbing my head. It still feels like it''s throbbing.


    "I apologize," Guard says. He means it, too. "I truly didn''t think it would happen. You have shared skills in the past; my assumption was if there was backlash, you would have encountered it before."


    I wave off the apology. "No, it''s alright, you had no real reason to expect it to hurt us." What he''s saying does strike me as odd, though. I cast my mind back¡ªI can''t quite remember if Ahkelios and I have used the same skill at the same time before. "Maybe Ahkelios''s last upgrade changed things," I suggest. "Even if it worked before, maybe it doesn''t work now."


    "Or we can only use your skills at the same time," Ahkelios mumbles. He still sounds a little woozy. I give him a sympathetic look, patting him on the back.


    "Want to try again, then?" I ask.


    "Not... now." Ahkelios sounds horrified by the idea. "Maybe later. Once I''ve, you know. recovered. And have a few more skills. Maybe a skill that cures nausea."


    "That sounds like it''d be a Firmament skill," I say. "You''ve blown that opportunity, I''m afraid."


    The conversation reminds me of what Kauku last told me¡ªhe said I have all the pieces I need to work out the secret of the Interface''s skill categories. I''m still not sure what he meant by that, but I start running through everything I''ve encountered so far. Maybe there was something I learned in the Empty City that was relevant? Or something about Virin''s imbuement stones...


    "I''m gonna roll Strength next," Ahkelios declares. "I''ve got enough for a Rank B skill, at least. And an Inspiration if it triggers one."


    "Maybe it''ll bring us in to see Kauku," I mutter. "I''ve got some questions for him."


    I have more Inspirations of my own to trigger even if it doesn''t. The Generator Form hasn''t really given me any trouble¡ªhopefully this means that I can get a few more Inspirations without having to worry about losing control like I did when I first obtained the Knight.


    I''m waiting for it to wake before I do any of that, though. All the delicate Firmament Control needed for Tarin''s surgery has exhausted the Inspiration; I doubt it''s in any condition to take on a new Form at the moment, let alone deal with any side effects that might come with it. I haven''t observed any with the Generator, but I''ve learned not to assume anything when it comes to Firmament and the Interface.


    "Maybe," Ahkelios says. "Honestly, I''d like to meet him. He sounds interesting."


    "He certainly does," Guard says. He looks a little put out again, but he''s doing his best to put it aside; aside from that barest of slips, his tone is carefully neutral. "But be cautious. There is much we do not yet know. That warning you received..."


    I grimace. "I know," I say. "I''ve been thinking about that too. I don''t know what to make of it."


    "We will need to be prepared," Guard says. "From what you''ve told me, what we are now is not enough. The data suggests that if this Kauku becomes a threat, we would not be able to defeat him. Not even if we were to ally with all ten of Hestia''s Trialgoers."


    Now that''s a sobering thing for him to say. I''m silent for a long moment as I process this. He''s not wrong. From what I''ve seen of Kauku and from the desperation in the message I sent myself...


    "I need to figure out the next phase shift," I say out loud. It''s the only way to even approach the kind of power I''ll need to deal with Kauku if he goes rogue.


    "Yes," Guard says gravely. "Whisper did not tell me much. But the fourth shift... it is known to be difficult. Dangerous. Moreso than the others. Most cannot push past the third layer and into the fourth; there is a barrier, of sorts, that must be overcome. A bottleneck."


    "Of course there is." I sigh. It''s not like I expected it to be easy, but it would''ve been nice. Thinking back to it, though, the sheer force of Firmament I felt behind that Paradox Warning...


    I don''t think I was at the third-layer when I sent it.


    For now, though, all I have are guesses. I turn to Ahkelios. "We''ll figure out the phase shift later," I say. "Roll those dice and let''s see if we get to meet Kauku again."


    Ahkelios nods. He triggers the skill roll, makes a selection¡ªa B-rank skill named Slice and Dice, which he says he''s used before¡ªand then there''s a long pause.


    A new Interface window pops up in front of him, and we both frown as we read it.


    [Choose your Inspiration:


    Sharpen


    Cut


    Grow]


    "I guess I just... pick from a list," Ahkelios says, looking a little annoyed. "That''s anticlimactic."


    "You''re telling me," I say dryly.


    Guess I''ll have to use one of my other banked Inspirations after all, if I want to speak to Kauku.


    We''ll see if that''s necessary.


    <hr>


    Rhoran wafted about listlessly as the storm of Firmament raged somewhere above him. He was hiding within the Seed again¡ªwhat else could he do? The Dungeon''s reconfiguration would destroy him if he were anywhere else.


    No. All he could do was watch and wait. He''d made all the changes he needed to make; he needed to trust that those changes would be sufficient to make Ethan fail.


    The Abstraction hadn''t been the only bet he''d made against the human, after all. He''d made all sorts of little changes. Made the Elders a little more paranoid, nudged them to evacuate the City a little earlier... From what he''d seen, this Ethan was something of a bleeding heart. Always rescuing others when he didn''t need to.


    So what would he do, if the whole city was in need of help? Try to complete the Stage?


    Because there was no way to complete the Stage without a few sacrifices and deaths, Rhoran was sure of that. And even if Ethan did somehow find a way...


    Well, there was still what was coming at the end of it all. Rhoran grinned to himself¡ªvery much an unnecessary grin, and if he''d still been with the Integrators it''d probably be frowned upon to enjoy the downfall of a civilization quite this much. He hadn''t even needed to make many changes.


    Ethan still didn''t understand the point of a Ritual.


    But he would.

 186 — Book 3, Chapter 45 — Choices and Changes

    To say that Ahkelios was a little disappointed in his selection would be an understatement, but to his credit, he gets over it pretty quickly. I sit back as he goes through a rapid series of choices and selections, mostly outlining the start of something that''ll make him combat-capable even if he''s not in my immediate presence.


    "It''s harder to share skills if we''re further apart," Ahkelios says. "So I need to make sure I can still fight even if I don''t have any of your skills."


    "You did pretty good even without any skills against Phylus," I point out. Ahkelios grins sheepishly.


    "I did, didn''t I?" he says. "I mean... whatever else was wrong with Zhir, he pretty much figured out and refined our Concept while he was stuck in the Empty City. I don''t think I was nearly that effective even when I was a Trialgoer, but now..."


    He looks down at his hands, and for a moment, a shadow crosses over his face. "I feel like I kind of owe him," he says. "It feels weird. Is that weird?"


    "I don''t think it is." I sit up a bit on the log and pat the space next to me¡ªAhkelios joins me after a moment, sitting with his elbows braced on his thighs. I''m still not used to how large he is now. If he were any smaller, I would''ve put him on my shoulder, but that''s not really an option anymore. "He was..."


    "He wasn''t good," Ahkelios interrupts, looking up at me.


    I shake my head slowly. "No, he wasn''t," I agree. "But it''s not that simple, is it? He was lonely. He fought to stay alive in the Empty City, and if what you''re telling me is right, he did that alone for centuries. By the time he met us, all he wanted was a way to go home. He chose a stupid way to go about it, but I can''t fault him for that."


    "That''s what he saw me as," Ahkelios mutters. "Or what he saw you as, I guess. A way home."


    "I''m still a way home, Ahkelios," I say, nudging him gently. "I haven''t forgotten that promise. One way or another, we''ll find out what happened to your people. But it doesn''t sound like the Integrators are just discarding planets that fail their Trials, does it? They pretend to, in that introductory message, but..."


    "You''re right," Ahkelios says after a moment, frowning. His eyes go distant. "They don''t. So they have to still be out there somewhere."


    "You never told me what your planet was called," I say, watching him carefully. "Do you want to tell me more about it?"


    It feels like he needs it. Like he needs a moment to reflect and think about what he lost, about what he''s missing. Ahkelios hesitates, looking between me and Guard. "We still have a lot to do..." he says. Not quite an answer.


    Guard shrugs, shifting from his position on the log to sit on the dirt in front of us. "I would like to hear as well."


    Something in Ahkelios''s expression settles, a bit of tension fading. I notice a flicker of gratitude, a fragment of relief. "Okay," he says quietly.


    We spend the next hour or so just talking. I still have credits to bank and answers to get, but more important than that is that Ahkelios needs this. Needs a chance to talk about something that isn''t the Trials, a chance to reminisce...


    A chance to grieve.


    I think we all do.


    I''m not sure when it happens, exactly, but eventually the conversation shifts: at some point, we''re no longer just talking about Ahkelios''s homeworld of Yotun, about the moving cities and the fields of death they march through. Instead, we take turns, telling each other what it was like to grow up on our respective planets, what our respective cultures were like.


    I share stories about Earth. Not about my family, but about our technology, about our culture¡ªor at least the culture I grew up with¡ªabout the stories we told one another across the globe. Half of them I''ve almost forgotten myself, but I find myself feeling wistful just recounting those barely-remembered tales. There was a time I loved them. Loved going to the movies, loved reading books.


    The memories make my heart clench. Not for the first time, I wonder how the other Trialgoers from Earth are doing, and I almost reflexively pull up the chat function in the Interface; it sits there, silent, almost mocking. Ahkelios sees what I''m looking at and shifts to sit a little closer to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.


    Guard tells us about Isthanok. He tells us what it was like growing up with his condition, what Isthanok used to be before it fell to ruin. Whisper''s determination to restore it makes a lot more sense in context, even if it doesn''t justify any of what she did.


    None of us know everything about our planets. There''s too much to be told in a single sitting, and there''s too much for us to have explored even within our lifetimes. Too many different peoples and cultures, even residing on a single planet. But even those small pockets of culture and storytelling and art that we know of... it highlights how different we are, and in highlighting those differences, shows us all the ways we''re the same.


    "I was never able to experience it myself," Guard says. His voice is steady, but there''s a hint of regret in it. "It is said that when all the crystal towers at the highest points of Isthanok were in full repair, and the wind blew through them just right, it would create a song¡ªa song that resonated through the city and ignited our flames. But they were damaged beyond repair long before my birth."


    "What destroyed them?" Ahkelios asks quietly.


    "Time," Guard says. "Or so it is believed. In truth, there are gaps in our history. Who knows? With all that Hestia has been through¡ªall the endless cycles of time..." He-Who-Guards shrugs helplessly. "These gaps are not uncommon throughout the Great Cities. Effect without cause, small contradictions, things that have always been with no apparent origin. It is not so widespread that we are lost entirely, but the impact of the Trial is apparent, if one thinks about it hard enough."


    I exchange glances with Ahkelios. It''s one thing to know something academically, but to have it laid out so plainly in front of us...


    "We need to make sure this Trial is the last," I say quietly. Ahkelios nods in determination next to me, his expression grim, and Guard makes a small series of whirs and clicks that registers to me like a tired smile.


    "You are perhaps our best chance at it," he says. "Of escaping this cycle. It''s one of many reasons I felt I had to join you."


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    "We are," I correct. Guard''s optic flickers¡ªsurprise, I think¡ªand I raise an eyebrow. "You''re part of the team. You think I would''ve made it through any of that without both you and Ahkelios? We are the best shot your planet has. Maybe the best shot all our planets have. Don''t count yourself out so easily."


    Guard is silent for a long moment. His optic cycles through a variety of colors¡ªyellow, blue, pink¡ªbefore settling on a determined green.


    "Then let us continue," he says gravely. "There is much we still need to discuss."


    <hr>


    First things first, there''s the rest of my skills to settle. Then a plan of action for both Ahkelios and Guard, a way for them to grow enough to keep up as we go through the Trial. We''ll need to figure out how to bring back Gheraa, uncover why Hestia is exploding at the end of every loop¡ªnot that I''ve reached the end of the loop very often, or at all outside the one time I was flung into the future¡ªand figure out what that warning I sent myself was all about.


    And related to that, of course, I have to figure out that fourth phase shift. Guard said that there''s a bottleneck. I need to figure out what that means and how to get past it. I can already tell that he''s right; my Firmament doesn''t seem to be growing the same way it was before, and while the Interface feature tracking my phase shift progress seems to be gone, I can still feel it. Feel the way my core is stagnating, struggling to push past some invisible barrier.


    There are a dozen other lesser mysteries. Concepts, Threads, Abstractions, whatever''s going on with the Interface categories, the idea that I''m Kauku''s Heir and the whole idea of Talents; the Remnants of prior Trials on Hestia and everything they might have left behind. If I manage to get through to the other human Trialgoers, the others experiencing their own Trials, that''ll add a whole stack of problems I''ll need to address. It''s a lot to get through.


    But all we can do is go one step at a time. I bank my Firmament credits, watching as the numbers roll by.


    [Are you sure you wish to bank 1,212 Firmament credits?]


    [1,212 Firmament credits banked! Rolling for skill...]


    [Select between:


    Auric Command (Rank S)


    Core Control (Rank S)


    Remnants of the Lost (Rank S)


    Soul Space (Rank S)]


    I look through the list thoughtfully, letting Inspect engage and feed me information about each of the skills.


    [You have obtained Soul Space (Rank S)!]


    "What¡ª" I start, frowning. I look at Ahkelios, but he''s just as baffled as I am. "That wasn''t you, was it?"


    "No!" Ahkelios looks offended that I''d even ask, which is probably fair. "I wouldn''t do that."


    [Apologies, Heir. You will need that skill for your next phase shift.]


    I stare at the Interface notification hovering in front of me. "I guess Kauku did it," I say, not without a little irritation. It''s not the first time he''s made these selections for me¡ªI haven''t forgotten being forced to pick a physical Durability upgrade instead of getting a new skill.


    Granted, so far his changes have all been beneficial to me. I''m just not a fan of the way he doesn''t even speak to me before forcing these changes. Part of me wonders if that''s because of the restrictions he''s mentioned¡ªsomething about quid pro quo and equivalent exchange, if I''m remembering right.


    Exchanging information is helping me, in a way; maybe by forcing the choice on me, he''s technically helping me less...


    "Nah. Don''t like it," I say out loud, staring at the Interface screen. "Stop doing that."


    It winks out almost sheepishly.


    I don''t miss the fact that this happened right after we spoke about the fourth layer bottleneck. Kauku''s not hiding the fact that he''s watching us anymore, not that he''s ever really hidden it.


    If nothing else, I''m reasonably certain that''s the skill I would have chosen regardless. Auric Command is interesting and fits in well with what I''ve been trying to do with Guard and Ahkelios¡ªit gives me the ability to exude an aura of Firmament, not unlike the one created by Breath of Life, that enhances and amplifies the abilities of allies within that field¡ªbut it''s a skill that becomes useless if they aren''t close enough. Which is to say that it inherently restricts our ability to position ourselves or utilize strategies that involve splitting up.


    Core Control is a skill I assume is coming up because of what I did with Tarin and Naru, but I was inclined to reject it the moment Inspect told me what it did. It''s a skill that allows for direct manipulation of any individual''s core. Their soul. The problem is the method of it; any changes I make with Core Control is a fundamental change akin to a form of personality alteration.


    No thanks. Mind control isn''t a tree of skills I''m interested in, even if it''s worryingly common among Hestia''s Trialgoers.


    Remnants of the Lost... I think it would have been between Remnants and Soul Space, ultimately. Remnant''s a skill that allows me to track and identify all the Remants that have been left behind by the prior Trialgoers. It''s a result of Ahkelios''s evolution, no doubt. It''s a good skill if not for the fact that Rotar''s already told me it''s something he''s working on¡ªbetter to trust him, I think, than to take it into my own hands and potentially waste more than a thousand credits on something he''ll be able to do anyway.


    And then there''s Soul Space.


    At its most basic level, the skill is basically a form of inventory management. It''s a way for me to do everything I''ve already been doing with the portal to the Empty City, except in a way that doesn''t rely on me retaining access to the City and doesn''t endanger the items I''ve left behind. In theory, it''s a skill that will allow me to store items within my core and let me keep them between loops.


    In practice, given what Kauku''s sent me and the hints I''m getting from Inspect? I think this is somehow exactly what I need to bypass the so-called fourth-layer bottleneck. How or why I''m not entirely sure yet, but I get the feeling I will soon.


    There''s a final Interface window waiting for me.


    [You have unlocked the Web of Threads.]


    [NOTICE: A description of the Web of Threads has been provided as per the Heritage Protocols. It is as follows:]


    [Web of Threads]


    A Thread is a fragment of a Concept. Think of it as a precursor, of sorts. In general, one must access a host of prerequisite Threads before the Concept as a whole can be used.


    This is not a hard and fast rule, however. There are many exceptions. Depending on the practitioner, some Concepts are simple to use in full even without knowledge or comprehension of their prerequisite Threads; others may be difficult to touch upon even with a complete set of Threads.


    Consider, for instance, the Concept of the Sword: it is comprised of the Thread of Sharpness, the Thread of Cutting, and the Thread of Steel. To touch upon a Thread is to glimpse a fragment of a Concept, and to access the abilities contained within. Many practitioners, however, are able to access the Concept of the Sword without any conception of its Threads.


    Warning: Threads are not an integrated Interface feature. While the Interface is able to track your access and use of Threads and in some cases amplify your affinity with them, be aware that their use may interfere with or obstruct your use of the Interface. We do not recommend their use.


    Unfortunately, that you have gained the ability to touch Threads at all indicates that you are unlikely to stay within the bounds of the Interface. Consider this your only warning.


    I''m barely done reading through the warning before another Interface window appears.


    [Don''t worry about that warning. It''s not for Heirs.]


    "You''re really not hiding that you''re watching anymore, huh?" I say out loud. "How much of the Interface''s messages are you writing back there?"


    No response, obviously. It doesn''t surprise me. I shake my head and turn my attention back to the Interface¡ªthere''s a seed of an idea here.


    I think this might be enough for me to figure out what I need to do to complete that fourth phase shift. I don''t know if I have everything I need yet, but if Kauku''s telling me about it now...


    If Guard and Ahkelios hadn''t both advanced alongside me in that last Ritual stage, I might not have survived it. Maybe I''m going about this the wrong way. Maybe I shouldn''t be waiting.


    Kauku is hinting about as strongly as he can that I either have all the pieces I need or enough to get me started. And if I''ve got all the pieces?


    Then that Thread of Insight might be exactly what I need to figure the rest of it out for myself.

 187 — Book 3, Chapter 46 — Thread of Insight

    There are secrets within secrets hiding within this whole system of power. The Interface, Firmament, this whole idea of Threads, Concepts, and Talents. The boundaries between them are less distinct than the Interface would like me to believe.


    It''s telling that Ahkelios is surprised by what we''ve learned, despite possessing the Concept of the Sword¡ªhe stares at the Interface window for a bit, puzzled. "I don''t think I ever got any notice about Threads of Sharpness," he mutters. "Or Threads in general. Although I guess that explains two of those Inspirations."


    "You probably just managed to grasp the full Concept without needing to pick up all its Threads," I say. "It does mention that''s possible. Depending on the practitioner."


    "So I''m a genius, is what you''re saying."


    I snort. "Did you need the Interface to tell you that?"


    "I needed you to tell me that," Ahkelios says, a hint of smug satisfaction entering his voice.


    I just shake my head in response, hiding my grin. "Don''t let it get to your head."


    Back to the point at hand. The Thread of Insight has shown up several times by now; the first few times, the Interface only said that I "touched a Thread". After that, it told me something about "gaining access to the Thread of Insight".


    Despite what the Interface has told me about Threads, though, it doesn''t exactly feel like the Thread of Insight gives me any new information. It''s not feeding ideas into my brain the way Inspect does. Instead, it feels more like it''s just speeding up a natural process¡ªlike it''s helping me make the right connections to come to a conclusion I would have anyway.


    Perhaps more importantly, it gives me confirmation that my natural instincts don''t. Without it, any conclusion I come to is guesswork at best, but the Thread of Insight seems to tap into some fundamental truth; when it''s active, I know for a fact that the conclusion I''m coming to is the right one.


    So.


    If I want to know more about the fourth phase shift, that Thread is probably going to be my best bet. Kauku''s been leaving me hints, hasn''t he? He''s mentioned at least two things that might be related to the phase shift: first that I have all the information I need to uncover whatever the Interface is hiding regarding its skill categories, and second that the Soul Space skill is somehow crucial to the next shift.


    As far as I can tell, he doesn''t tell me things for no reason. That he''s done it twice now means what he''s told me is probably crucial. I just have to figure out how.


    "You okay there, Ethan?" Ahkelios asks. I wave it off.


    "Just thinking," I say. "Give me a minute. I''m going to try something."


    The main problem right now is that I don''t know how to intentionally activate the Thread of Insight. The Interface tells me that I''ve gained access to it, but activating it isn''t as simple as activating a skill¡ªthere''s no construct in my soul that allows me to manipulate it, nothing I can feed Firmament into to enhance.


    Even with my new understanding of Threads and Concepts, the new sense I gained from the fight with the Abstraction, and the Abstract Crown the Interface granted me, I have no idea where to begin.


    Nothing to it but to try, though. The Thread has always responded well to my intuition, so I figure I might as well keep doing exactly that.


    And right now, my intuition is telling me to meditate. To reduce external stimulation as much as I can and examine my core¡ªtry to see if I can identify this fourth-layer bottleneck.


    "Keep an eye on me, will you?" I say. "This might take me a while."


    Ahkelios and Guard blink, glancing at one another, but nod. "Don''t take too long," he says. "We don''t know when Naru''s going to be done."


    "I won''t."


    I start by taking deep, slow breaths. I close my eyes and let the world around me fade away, going as far as to pull Firmament away from my eyes so I''m not even left with the pink nothingness of my eyelids. I let myself get used to that for a moment¡ªnot darkness, but nothingness.


    Then I focus on the noise around me. The sound of the wind, the crows, the gentle humming of Guard''s systems. Drawing Firmament away from my ears leaves me without even the ringing I hear in perfect silence.


    I should do this more often. It''s surprisingly peaceful.


    Next the smell of wet earth. Mari''s cooking, rich and savory. The scent of the nearby forest, thankfully masked by the village''s activities. It''s not exactly pleasant. I acknowledge it, though, then let it fade until it''s nothing more than the passage of air.


    Then the feeling of the log beneath me, scratching against my thighs. The weight and texture of my clothes against my skin. My Firmament withdraws until all that remains is the slowly-fading pulse of blood as it circulates through my body, until even that is nothing but a dull hum.


    Taste doesn''t change much, though I pull my senses back from it anyway, just to complete the set.


    And last but not least... There''s the Firmament sense that''s accompanied me since almost the moment I started this journey. This one I can''t just turn off¡ªbut I can turn it inward, focus the entirety of it on my core.


    With everything else shut down, I can sense the shape of my soul with startling clarity. I let myself soak it in for a long moment, feeling out the edges of what I''ve become and the choices I''ve made. It''s fascinating. Everything I''ve done is inscribed in here in some small way, like a tapestry of decisions that map out the texture of my soul.


    I don''t regret them. I don''t think I can afford to. Whatever mistakes I may have made, they''ve shaped who I am today; all I can do is take that with me with every new step I take. That realization settles into me, and with it, a newfound clarity.


    I can feel the effect of the phase shifts.


    It''s like a slight shift in perspective, and suddenly I can see the way each shift I''ve been through creates a new, foundational layer that builds up on everything I was before. The three I''ve been through work in concert to create what I can only name the bedrock of my soul. The foundation on which everything else is built.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    It''s the reason my Firmament has grown so much stronger, I realize. It''s solid in a way it wasn''t before. Three stages of synchronization with three layers of power has given my Firmament a presence and strength that''s altogether missing from most of what I encounter in the wild.


    And yet...


    I pause, looking a bit closer at my Firmament and frowning mentally.


    And yet it''s not quite there. It''s about as close as it can get, certainly¡ªright on the precipice of becoming something real and tangible¡ªbut it feels almost like there''s something missing from it, something crucial it needs to be fully realized.


    This is it. The bottleneck that supposedly prevents a Trialgoer from achieving their fourth shift. Without completely solidifying the first three layers, the fourth can''t be built, and whatever''s missing here isn''t something that can be overcome just by shoving more Firmament into it.


    I feel the Interface responding to this realization. It comes through like a ripple in my soul, originating from the part of me that''s linked to it. I''m too deep in my soul to read whatever notification it just gave me, but I can guess what it says.


    [Thread of Insight activated!]


    Or something along those lines.


    I go back to studying the not-quite-solid bedrock sitting in my soul. It''s hard to pinpoint what it''s missing. For the most part, it just feels like there''s some final ingredient that hasn''t been added, something that''s needed to transform this from "almost real" to just "real".


    That alone is a familiar idea, though. It''s almost like...


    Almost like an Abstraction.


    I consider that thought for a moment, turning it over in my head. That isn''t a Talent I have, and it''s not a Talent I know how to even approach getting. More to the point, I don''t think Talents are required to progress with Firmament¡ªif they were, all the Integrators would be stuck at the third layer, just like I am. From what Gheraa and Kauku both have said, I don''t think the Integrators have these Talents.


    But I can take cues from the idea of Abstraction. It''s an ability that takes something conceptual and turns it into something real. Can I do the same?


    Not directly.


    I can''t create something out of nothing. That''s what the Talent does¡ªit makes something real through nothing more than force of will and presumably some intrinsic quality that allows someone to adopt a Talent.


    But I don''t need to.


    That''s why Kauku forced me to pick Soul Space. Because it''s a skill that takes something real and turns it into something not-quite-real, something that can be stored within the soul. If I study the mechanism, if I understand how Soul Space does that¡ªbetter yet, if Soul Space itself can be used to fill in those gaps and solidify my Firmament?


    I''ll have the foundation I need to break past the bottleneck and complete the fourth shift.


    That''s almost enough to make me pull out of the trance. I have my answer¡ªall I need to do is experiment with Soul Space. See if I can use it to complete the solidification of my soul.


    And yet... I hesitate. Something makes me stop just before I pull my awareness back. Something I''ve put to the back of my mind for now.


    Gheraa.


    More specifically, the imprint of him tucked away inside my soul. It feels almost like it''s reaching out and calling to me¡ªexcept that''s impossible, surely? It isn''t alive. Not the way he was or even the way his construct was. It''s a blueprint I was barely able to capture before it faded. An echo of who he was.


    I cast my mind toward it anyway, just in case, trying to identify whatever it is that''s getting my attention.


    It feels like it''s resonating. Not reacting, exactly¡ªa reaction would imply that it''s still alive in some way¡ªbut even just as an imprint, it seems to somehow be responding to the state of my soul. I look it over carefully, trying to understand the cause. It''s almost like there''s something different about the way my Firmament flows through it, but it''s so subtle that it takes a long moment of deliberate examination to see it.


    Gheraa was at the sixth layer, wasn''t he? Or something close to it, at least. Echoes of that remain even in this so-called echo, causing my Firmament to move just a fraction slower, creating an outline of his core.


    The first three layers are solid. Rigid. They''re the foundation of it all, and even devoid of Firmament I can sense their depth. The upper layers are so complex as to be nearly invisible to me.


    But the fourth? I can see it with shocking clarity.


    It''s the fourth layer that''s resonating¡ªcreating tiny, almost unnoticeable ripples as my Firmament moves through it. It''s bouncing off something barely there, barely visible.


    Four of them, to be precise. It''s like there are four pillars in addition to the foundation, used to hold the fourth layer together. The only problem is that they look... unstable, for lack of a better word. The bedrock is strong, the framework solid even in this imprint, but the pillars?


    They''re shaky. Like they formed accidentally more than anything, a natural result of building out the fourth layer.


    Something about that strikes me as odd. Phase shifts have always been about solidity, about deepening one''s connection to their Firmament. Why would the fourth layer include shakily-defined pillars?


    The more I think about it, the more I realize there has to be something more to the fourth layer. Something that maybe even Gheraa didn''t know about.


    It''s strange in the first place that it would take just one skill to get past the bottleneck. As much as that explains why it''s so difficult to get past the third layer¡ªrandom chance is hardly something I''d bank on to get a fundamentally required skill for progress¡ªevery phase shift before this has required me to solidify something about my soul. To make a decision that defines me.


    Even if this next phase shift doesn''t, there must be something else I need to do. I''m suddenly certain that if I achieved the fourth shift as I am now, I''d end up with something incomplete. Maybe not dangerously incomplete, but incomplete nevertheless. It''d be a flaw in my foundations that I might never be able to recover from.


    Shit. Just keeping a hold of Gheraa''s imprint like this might have just saved me. It''s a strange thought. Gheraa is still helping me, even indirectly, even without being alive. What do I say to that? Thanks?


    It doesn''t feel sufficient, considering all he''s done to give me a shot at this. To give Earth a shot at breaking a cycle I didn''t even know existed.


    "You better be ready for me to bring you back." That''s what I settle on. No more waiting. I find myself meaning it, too. Somewhere along the way I''ve decided that he''s someone I want fighting by my side when we end this. With everything he''s done, he deserves to see this through.


    The only question is: how do I use what he''s given me now?


    Because I get the feeling it''s important. Very, very important. Something the Integrators won''t see coming, because it''s something they don''t know themselves.


    Four pillars and a foundation. Five in total. That number feels important. It''s not the first time I''ve run into it.


    Five Ritual stages.


    Five skill categories in the Interface.


    There''s something about that. The Thread of Insight thrums, making connections, bringing up memories.


    It won''t be quite the same as performing the fourth layer shift... but I think there''s something I can do now. Something that will pave the way. The first three shifts required me to make decisions about who I am and who I want to be, but I don''t think that''s what this next one needs.


    Not a decision. A revelation. I''ve defined myself: now I need to define my relationship with the world around me, and to do that, I need to know the world around me.


    Easy enough. I''ll begin by tearing apart a lie.


    <hr>


    Ahkelios stared at the Interface popups in front of Ethan, growing increasingly concerned.


    [WARNING: Strength overflow detected!]


    [WARNING: Durability overflow detected!]


    [WARNING: Reflex overflow detected!]


    [WARNING: Speed overflow detected!]


    What was Ethan doing in there?

 188 — Book 3, Chapter 47 — The Four Pillars

    There''s one thing that''s been on my mind ever since we encountered it with the Seedmother¡ªone thing I''ve been ruminating on and trying to work out. The Interface is lying to me about the skill categories. Why? What''s the point?


    And more importantly, what are those categories, really?


    It''s not some arbitrary way to designate and separate skills. Considering the similarities in the way the skills in each category are constructed, there has to be something more fundamental to it than that. Everything I''ve encountered since then agrees, from Virin''s imbuement stones to the variety of other skills I''ve seen used against me.


    This feels important. I can almost feel the weight of the lie in my soul, like a physical weight dragging me down and interfering with the formation of the fourth layer.


    Maybe that''s what it is. A way to weaken Trialgoers and Integrators alike. We''re reliant on the Interface to grow, and if the fourth layer requires me to know the world¡ªto define myself in relation to it¡ªthen any lie within it becomes an exploitable weakness. It ensures not only that we''re weaker than we could be, but creates an instability in our souls that could be used to fracture it.


    Just speculation, perhaps, but... It feels right.


    It doesn''t matter, I suppose. Kauku has told me that I have all the information I need to uncover the truth behind this; I''m still not exactly sure what that means, but I''m pretty sure I can find out.


    All I need to do is look.


    The evidence is all around me, contained within my soul. If I look very, very closely, I can see the beginnings of the fourth layer trying to form. It''s thin, wispy, and insubstantial¡ªunable to properly form without the first three layers fully solidified¡ªbut it''s enough to see the four pillars I identified in Gheraa''s echo. Four barely-noticeable origin points around which the fourth layer is trying to form. They''re exactly where I''d guessed they would be.


    They correlate, almost perfectly, to the placement of skills within my soul.


    Directionality is a barely legible concept when in a space that''s better described through metaphor than physical direction, but for lack of a better term, they map to the four corners of my soul. The four points of a compass. My Strength skills lie ahead of me and my Durability skills behind me, north and south respectively; the Speed and Reflex skill clusters mark the west and east points in turn.


    Between them, at the center of everything and embedded within the bedrock formed by the first three layers, are my Firmament skills.


    I have all the information I need.


    Kauku''s words ring in my mind, and I stare at the placement of these skills. I could examine the constructs themselves for similarities and try to glean what they really mean through that alone, but somehow I don''t think that''s what Kauku means. There''s something else.


    Where else have I encountered the number five before? It''s not just the Ritual stages and the Interface categories, surely. There''s something else.


    The thought strikes me almost out of the blue. I have encountered it before. I''d assumed it to be arbitrary at the time. An artifact of an older time and a weaker understanding of Firmament.


    What if it''s the other way around? What if the people of the Empty City¡ªof First Sky, as Novi would have called it¡ªunderstood it better? At the very least, they could have known things that aren''t as well known now. Maybe we have different parts of an incomplete puzzle.


    I wrack my mind, trying to remember what Novi told me about their Seers.


    "You said they''re all at the third phase shift, at minimum?" I ask. Novi nods.


    "We have only five of them," she says. "Five Seers, each specializing in an Aspect. Force, Body, Mind, Energy, and Spirit."


    The Aspects. Five Seers, five Aspects, each corresponding to a so-called skill category. Strength, Durability, Reflex, Speed, and Firmament.


    It matches. More than that, even. The names the scirix gave their Aspects might be a little more general, but they''re significantly more accurate; those names explain the odd little discrepancies I''ve noticed here and there with the skills that don''t quite match the category the Interface claims it belongs to.


    There''s Force, representing an application of power against the world. Most of the time they manifest as a skill that increases my physical strength in some capacity, but they don''t have to. The fundamental truth of Force is not strength. It''s a projection of power. A physical representation of change. Force skills demand that the physical world bend to their whims.


    And as I make that realization, something in my soul responds.


    My Strength skills shudder. Something in their constructs realign slightly as if to accommodate my newfound understanding of them. They settle after a moment, but even without looking at the Interface I can tell they''ve changed. The way my Firmament flows through them is... cleaner, for lack of a better word.


    I can see the similarities between each skill now. Before, there was too much noise¡ªa complexity to the constructs that made them impossible to parse. It''s not that they''re simpler, now, but the noise is gone, and more than that, there''s a clarity to my mind when I look at them.


    Revelations. My earlier thought echoes in my mind. The last few phase shifts have required me to make decisions about myself. This one requires revelations about the world. That''s why my core is responding the way it is.


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    What I''m doing now is equivalent to a partial phase shift. Whatever I get out of this, it''s going to be a measurable, qualitative change in my power.


    So I keep going. With everything that happened in the last Ritual stage and the warning I sent myself, I''m pretty sure I''m going to need everything I can get.


    After Force comes the Aspect of the Body. That''s essentially my Durability skills, but there''s more to it than just the concept of durability. If I''m understanding it correctly¡ªand it''s harder to parse than Force is¡ªthen it''s the opposite of Force. Where the Aspect of Force demands that the physical world change, the Aspect of the Body is the use of Firmament to stay the same. To resist all external influence.


    The Aspect of the Body makes the claim that my physical self is more real than anything that can be put against me.


    Just like before, my Durability skills respond to this realization. They shift and align themselves, and something in their construction becomes clear to me: I see an emanation of Firmament that encapsulates and protects. A self-reinforcing circle.


    And then comes something I don''t expect. As my Durability skills finish aligning, there''s a resonance that emerges¡ªan invisible link that spans the space between them and the Strength skills. I stare at it for a moment, unsure what to make of it.


    I might not have seen anything like it before, but it also feels like it''s always been there. Like I''m not creating something new as much as I am unearthing something that''s always been there.


    With the first two revelations complete, the rest come more easily, falling into place like pieces of a puzzle.


    Energy. That''s the Aspect that the Interface calls Speed, but it''s more about... the transference of energy. The displacement of power from one place to another. Speed is the most common application of it, certainly, but it governs any movement of power from one place to another. It''s the reason Firmament is so much easier to control when I''m in the Generator Form.


    The Aspect of Energy rules over flow. Kinetic energy, electrical energy, the shift from potential energy into one or the other. The Interface calls it Speed, but it''s so much more.


    My Speed skills react like the others, shivering and realigning themselves. I see the shape of them now: the complex flow of power within them, as if by their very natures the construct of each skill shows off how simple it is to chart the course of power within them.


    And last but not least... Mind. The Aspect of consciousness, for lack of a better word. Reflexes are the most combat-practical component of what it governs, but the Aspect is more inherently about that intersection between observation and reality. It is perception, perspective, and connection.


    Like before, the Speed and Reflex clusters form a link; as the Reflex skills shift in response to my thoughts, something new snaps into place.


    Four revelations. Four pillars. Two currents of power that cross over one another. Even without the fourth layer in place, I can tell this is meant to reinforce it¡ªto give it structure and stability it wouldn''t otherwise have.


    And more than that, my skills feel stronger now. I can''t place a name or a number to it. It''s just a feeling. I''ll have to test it properly when I emerge from this trance.


    There''s one final step¡ªthe Aspect of the Spirit. The cluster of Firmament skills directly beneath me, resting in the still-incomplete bedrock formed by the first three phase shifts.


    But I know instinctively that there''s nothing more I can do for now. That final step requires me to use Soul Space. More than that¡ªwith the realization that this represents the Spirit, according to the scirix¡ªI don''t think I can just pack the bedrock of my soul with dirt and dust.


    Which was my first plan, admittedly. If all I need to do is pack myself full of reality, why not use what''s readily available?


    But no. It has to be something meaningful. Something that represents me, in the way that Tarin''s skill represented him when I gave him a shard of Intrinsic Lightning. It''s the last thing I need to complete the fourth shift.


    The only problem is that I don''t know what that is yet.


    Knowing what I need to look for is good enough, though. I''m as ready as I can get.


    I pull myself out of the trance, blinking against the harshness of the light and the...


    Hm.


    That''s a lot of notifications.


    And a very worried-looking Ahkelios. And Guard.


    "Uh," I say. "Was I in there long?"


    "You weren''t responding and you were in there for six hours." Ahkelios manages to somehow project the scirix equivalent of wanting to tear his hair out, not that he has any. Guard''s engines are making a low whining sound despite his best attempts to look neutral.


    I''m starting to feel kind of bad.


    "I couldn''t even get to you through our link!" Ahkelios grabs me and shakes me by the shoulders; I let him, because it seems to make him feel a little better. "Ethan! Don''t just do that!"


    "I have to concur," He-Who-Guards adds. He refrains from grabbing me, which I appreciate. "It is quite stressful."


    "I''ll do my best," I say dryly. I''m touched that they were so worried, at least. "I didn''t do it on purpose or anything, I promise. Must be something about feeling out the soul that causes time to pass differently." I cast about for a different topic, mostly for use as a distraction. "Any update with Naru?"


    Ahkelios shakes his head. He answers my question, but the look he gives me tells me he knows exactly what I''m doing. "Not yet. All we know is there''s apparently a lot he needs to talk about with his parents," he says. "Something about Carusath."


    "Guess he finally figured out that place has terrible management." I try to force myself to my feet with a grimace¡ªabsolutely everything is sore, for some reason, and that''s after recovering from the effects of yesterday''s skill spree and today''s surgery. Ahkelios watches me struggle for a moment, then sighs and helps pull me to my feet.


    Honestly, he''s probably right in that I should be a little more careful with these things. "In my defense," I say, "I''ve never just lost a chunk of time like that before. Had no idea that would happen."


    "I know." Ahkelios visibly tries to calm himself down, and he gives me a look that''s equal parts relieved and apologetic. "We were just worried. You think it''s going to be like that in the future? Every time you try to access your soul?"


    I glance at the swarm of notifications sitting in front of me. "I don''t know," I admit. "But hopefully these will tell us more."


    Ahkelios stares at them. "What did you find out?" he asks. "It''s gotta be something important, considering..."


    He gestures helplessly to all the windows. I shrug. Just as a test, before reading them, I activate Amplification Gauntlet.


    There''s normally a moment of resistance when I activate a skill. A second where I can feel my Firmament flowing into the construct until there''s enough, and then the skill bursts into being.


    This time, though? I barely feel the skill activating, and yet there''s a shining, almost-solid layer of armored Firmament covering my arm. Ahkelios stares at it. "What?" he says, confused. "I didn''t feel you activate the skill."


    I grin. This feels good. Like my Firmament is flowing more easily than ever. I bounce on my feet, feeling my aches and pains wash away; it''s tempting to eschew the notifications entirely and just go on a test run, but I''m not that reckless.


    Let''s see exactly what it is I just did.

 189 — Book 3, Chapter 48 — The Scion of Change

    Kauku frowned. Something was wrong.


    Several somethings, in fact. That in and of itself would not normally be enough to make him worry¡ªthings went wrong all the time, and it was usually no trouble for him to nudge them back into place or simply adapt his plans to accommodate them. He hadn''t expected someone like Ethan to become his Heir, for instance. He''d expected someone a lot more pliable. Less wary, less intelligent.


    More fool him, he supposed. Anyone who could inherit the ability to Anchor was not someone that would be any of those things. The Talent required a certain depth of will to invoke. It required conviction, restraint, an aptitude with Firmament and an intuitive touch with reality. Of course his Heir wasn''t some easily-manipulated tool.


    But that was easy enough to work with. It helped that Ethan was easygoing and likeable; he had questions, yes, but Kauku found himself surprised by how much he enjoyed their little talks. It had been a while since he''d been challenged in any serious capacity. Ethan spoke to him without cowering or supplicating himself¡ªtreated him as an equal despite the sheer gap in their power.


    Truthfully, he''d thought that would be annoying, but he found rather quickly that he enjoyed that audacity. Imagine how much more interesting life might have been if the mortals he met spoke to him so freely! Perhaps then he wouldn''t have been led down the path he''d chosen...


    Ah, but it was far too late for such ruminations, and far too late to change his plans.


    It was a pity, really. He liked Ethan quite a bit. Not enough to abandon everything he''d done so far, but enough to that the help he offered was genuine. It would give Ethan more of a chance against everything that was to come, and while that also meant the human had better odds at screwing up his plans, he couldn''t really bring himself to care.


    He''d give Ethan a fair shot. Why not? The human had earned it, and the odds that anything he could do would interfere with Kauku''s plans were minimal even with the help Kauku had given him.


    Ethan kept surprising him, though. The hint he''d given about Aspects? He hadn''t really expected Ethan to make anything of it. Who would''ve thought he''d figure it out! And not just figure it out¡ªfrom what Kauku was sensing, Ethan had managed to layer the revelations into his fourth shift and build a foundation more stable than any he''d encountered since who-knew-when.


    A partial shift only a few months into becoming a practitioner. Kauku grinned to himself, feeling that odd sense of pride growing within him. Sure, it was sort of at odds with his goals, but Ethan was still his Heir. If any of the Heirs were going to demonstrate improbable levels of aptitude with Firmament, then it was only right that it was his.


    Really, the only complaint Kauku had was that Ethan spent too much time with others. He''d be much more effective if he''d gone at all this alone¡ªwho knew how formidable he would be by now had he focused on siphoning all the power he could from the Interface? Yes, technically his companions had helped him, but Kauku was quite certain that Ethan would have been able to handle all those threats by himself if he''d just focused from the beginning.


    Ah well. That was only a small flaw, and it wouldn''t matter in the long run. His companions couldn''t really be a problem if they weren''t alive, and something was coming up that Kauku was quite certain would at the very least drive a rift between them. None of this was what was bothering Kauku.


    No, that was something else. He was sensing alterations he hadn''t accounted for. Changes in the Ritual that would permanently ruin what he had planned. The appearance of the Abstraction was one thing¡ªthat had only aided with Ethan''s growth, and Kauku liked him enough that he was quite fine with that¡ªbut he couldn''t allow the Ritual to end early. Where would the fun be in that? He wouldn''t get what he needed out of it.


    That was problem number one. Interference with the Ritual, interference with his plans. Kauku wouldn''t tolerate those. It was one thing when they were coming from Ethan and another thing entirely when it was one of those mortal pests. He''d have to deal with that somehow.


    Problem number two was a little more difficult. Something was happening with the Intermediary, and annoyingly, he couldn''t tell exactly what it was.


    Kauku cast his senses over to the Intermediary once more. It remained broken and cut off from the wider network¡ªboth Kauku and whatever was left of Ethan''s Integrator friend were making sure of that. He couldn''t quite remember the name. Gary?


    No, that might have been one of Ethan''s Earth friends. Hm.


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    Either way, his soulrot was doing a good job of preventing the Intermediary from repairing itself¡ªa good thing, too, or the surveillance that came with the Interface would once again land on the planet of Hestia, and Kauku would no longer be able to operate quite as freely.


    So what was the problem here? Kauku narrowed metaphorical eyes, examining it even more thoroughly. Just enough that he had to pull himself back to avoid accidentally collapsing the soulrot with the force of his presence.


    Nothing was wrong with the Integrator''s soulrot. He was even still revivable, if Ethan really felt it necessary to do that. The Intermediary wasn''t healing. Was he missing something?


    He''d borrow a page from Ethan''s book, he decided.


    The Thread of Insight wasn''t nearly as easily accessible to him as it apparently was for Ethan, but the benefit of having an Heir was that he could use them as a sort of proxy for these things. Reach through him, take hold of the Thread of Insight, connect it with his own psyche...


    Ah. So that was what it was. Of course. This was Hestia; he couldn''t forget to look through the dimension of time. The Heart was trying to interfere, then? Kauku examined the scattering of distorted Temporal Firmament with a critical eye. The patterns seemed random, but if he accounted for time and normalized it against the planet''s usual temporal activity, he could see what it was doing.


    Interesting. The Heart seemed to be trying to instantiate a minor paradox¡ªto create an intentional Tear within the Intermediary. It was trying to use Ethan''s future actions to create echoes of that Integrator friend before Ethan revived him. Why?


    Leaving aside the fact that this seemed to indicate that Ethan would in fact succeed with the task of bringing his friend back¡ªa task that seemed to Kauku to be quite improbable, for all that it was technically possible¡ªhe couldn''t figure out why something like Hestia''s Heart would care about this Integrator. And even if it did, if it knew Ethan was going to succeed, why bother to bring him back early at all?


    Doing something like that wasn''t without cost. Kauku could see how it would destabilize Hestia''s Firmament even further. It would worsen the state of the Tears across the planet, make the monsters even more prolific, and probably accelerate Anomaly 006.


    He didn''t like that. Anomaly 006 was one of the few things he knew close to nothing about, and it was the one thing he wasn''t quite sure how to deal with once he was free from this makeshift prison. He was confident that he could deal with it, but exploding planets just weren''t something he had a lot of experience with.


    So... what, was the Heart doing this to mess with him specifically?


    That didn''t seem likely. The Heart couldn''t possibly know that he existed.


    The only logical conclusion, Kauku thought, was that the Heart believed Ethan would need his Integrator friend. Before he could actually revive him. So it was creating a small, self-resolving bootstrap paradox, or at least trying to.


    Bizarre. Kauku considered this for a moment. Would allowing this interfere with his plans?


    Not really, he decided. Not in any way he didn''t count as allowable interference. He didn''t care one way or the other about the Integrators, but he supposed this one in particular was more interesting than the rest. He was interested in why the Heart felt Ethan would need his assistance, but Kauku couldn''t even begin to guess at what it was concerned about. That would have to wait for the Trial''s completion and the Heart''s subsequent Integration.


    Nevermind that problem, then. He might even help if he felt it would be amusing enough. Back to problem number one. The pest messing around with the Ritual and with Novi''s soulrot.


    Kauku could feel it if he concentrated. It was subtle enough¡ªor rather weak enough that he hadn''t been able to find it before, but now that he knew it was there, it was just a matter of looking. He was reasonably certain he could reach out and squash it like a bug. He was tempted to, even. Only one thing stopped him: Ethan''s warning.


    Try not to let it reach Kauku.


    In all his experimentation with Temporal Firmament¡ªlimited though that was without the Integration of the Heart¡ªprophecies such as these were not avoidable. And that was what it was, really. A prophecy.


    Prophecies couldn''t be avoided in any direct sense. Paradox Warning gave Ethan the ability to prepare for whatever he told himself would happen, but it didn''t give him the ability to avert it entirely. Not without creating a much more significant and much more dangerous paradox than the one the Heart was trying to create.


    The big question was whether this was the trigger event. Kauku was pretty sure that it was.


    He was imprisoned. Nothing could reach him save for Ethan, and even that was due to a little quirk in the Interface''s programming for Heirs and their Scions.


    With the power he held, though? He could technically reach out. The bars of his prison could only hold him back so far. He had power enough to touch the Interface and to interact with any instance of soulrot.


    Kauku almost scoffed at the idea that some pest would get the better of him, but he knew better than to ignore such a warning. And yet, what was there to do?


    Prophecies couldn''t be averted.


    But... perhaps the details could be nudged in his favor.


    Nothing about that warning said it would be detrimental to his plans. Only that Ethan wouldn''t like the outcome. That was technically already a given.


    Just in case, though, he''d leave a few things behind for Ethan. Nothing he wouldn''t have given him anyway¡ªthe rest of the Inspirations he was set to get, maybe a hint or two on the nature of Firmament and what he''d need to do to bring back that Integrator friend. Just because they weren''t on the same side didn''t mean he couldn''t also root for the guy.


    Who knew? Maybe Ethan would surprise him.

 190 — Book 3, Chapter 49 — Trial Run

    We''ve moved into the nearby forest. I''m alone, at least for now¡ªGuard is hovering nearby in case something goes wrong, but that seems unlikely. I can feel how much cleaner my Firmament is, how much more easily it flows through my body.


    More than that, every skill I own resonates clear in my mind. I''m almost certain I could use those Submerged skills if I wanted to, even. Now''s not quite the time to risk that, though.


    I flex my fingers, watching Amplified Gauntlet shimmer over my skin, nearly invisible. It''s bizarre how much more easily my power flows now. It''s always felt like using Firmament was something that required effort. Now it responds so quickly that I have to be careful not to overexert the skill by accident.


    Making the gauntlet invisible is a matter of will. A few rounds of testing have shown that the precision of my control has grown to the point that I can manifest it over one finger at a time if I wanted to. I can even use the skill to manifest rings of metallic Firmament around my wrist, though I can''t imagine why I would want to do such a thing. Ahkelios seemed satisfied when I demonstrated it, though. Something about partial, incomplete skill manifestation.


    All this is a testament to how much more flexible my skills are now, but it''s not exactly what we''re here to test. Considering what I''ve just read?


    I need to see what the difference is up close. I need to see exactly how much has changed, and not just with my skills¡ªthat part''s self-evident just from a bit of practice. Apparently the changes run deeper than that, and the only way to find out exactly how effective they are is to put them to the test.


    Right on time, a Guilty Chimera charges toward me, herded by Ahkelios. The first time one of these attacked me, I was barely able to block in time; the only reason I could at all was because of Precognition warning me a split second before it happened.


    This time, though? I can see it moving. It''s not that it''s moving in slow motion, exactly; rather, it just feels like I have plenty of time to react. To move, to dodge...


    I frown, noticing something interesting.


    I could also do nothing at all.


    This time around, Precognition isn''t firing. There''s no sense of incoming danger. I can feel the force the chimera is pouring into this attack¡ªlightning blazes across its scales, and there''s a swirling tide of liquid swelling in front of it¡ªand yet I feel not a hint of a reaction from the skill.


    So I let Amplified Gauntlet fade away. I hold a hand out, palm flat.


    I wait.


    A roiling tide of electrified water slams into me a split second before the chimera itself does. There''s about three seconds of crackling static and rushing, turbulent water. Three seconds where some of the smaller trees are physically uprooted and blown back, and the larger ones have pieces of their bark explode from the snap-boiling of the sap within.


    Me, though? I''m fine. It hurts the way a static shock hurts¡ªa sharp sting on my palm that fades remarkably quickly.


    The chimera''s snout is crushed almost cartoonishly against my hand. Its expression is almost comical, eyes wide in a mixture of shock and pain; I find myself grimacing at the sensation.


    It might look comical, but I can feel how many bones are broken in its skull alone. I remember these things having skin that''s comparable to steel, and it''s been crushed into nothing through the force of its own blow.


    The Aspect of the Body resists change, including changes in inertia. All that force blew right back into its snout, and I think something about the Aspect of Force made the blow effective where it normally might have passed through its body.


    I take a quick step forward, twisting, snapping my other fist into its face. More to put it out of its misery than anything else; I learned what I needed to. I can test Temporal Link with the next one.


    [You have defeated a Guilty Chimera (Rank A)! You have gained 12 Physical points. You have gained 12 Astral points. You have gained 20 Firmament credits.]


    That''s one question answered. The structure of my rewards has changed. We learned a few things, going through those Interface notifications.


    First among them is that the Interface has changed the way it organizes and categorizes my skills and credits. I no longer have Strength, Durability, Reflex, or Speed; instead, they''ve been altered into something it calls Aspect Pools. There''s a whole set of notifications that read largely the same, starting with Strength:


    [Congratulations, Trialgoer. You have uncovered the Revelation of Force.]


    [You have unlocked the Force Aspect Pool.]


    [Strength has been upgraded to Aspect of Force. Your Strength credits will be converted into Aspect points at no additional cost.]


    [NOTICE: Force skills operate at higher levels of efficiency compared to standard Strength skills. Overuse of them may result in injury. Caution is recommended.]


    There were twelve sets of notifications for these in total, three for each of the four upgraded categories. And then there were four more intriguing ones:


    [Anomaly detected. Compensating...]


    [Your Force and Body Aspect Pools have merged. You have created the Physical Aspect Pool. All accumulated Force and Body points will be collectively added to this pool and may be redeemed for skills of either category.]


    [Your Mind and Energy Aspect Pools have merged. You have created the Astral Aspect Pool. All accumulated Mind and Energy points will be collectively added to this pool and may be redeemed for skills of either category.]


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    Those particular notifications made it sound almost like none of that was supposed to happen. Not that I minded. More interesting to me was what came after.


    [The Physical and Astral Aspect Pools provide a passive bonus to your respective traits on top of what your level as a Firmament practitioner offers you. Banked points count more toward this passive bonus than held points.]


    It takes a little digging, but the Interface explains what that means with a little prompting¡ªall I have to do is focus on the Aspect Pool I''m interested in. The window that pops up does so with an almost sluggish reluctance, but the descriptions are more or less what I''d expect.


    The Physical Aspect Pool boosts my physical traits. The Astral Aspect Pool boosts my ability to control and perceive energy, both internally and externally. With all the points I''ve spent, my default bonus is... well, it''s a lot.


    Enough that a fight with a Guilty Chimera¡ªa fight that would normally have required me to use my skills, to dart around and wear it down¡ªnow mostly feels like I''m bullying a child. I use a quick wave of Firmament to wash the blood off my knuckles and watch as the chimera''s body fades away.


    "Next one," I tell Ahkelios.


    I''m a lot more confident now that I have a better idea of what I''m capable of. The next Guilty Chimera that Ahkelios sends at me sees that. It looks a lot more hesitant, circling around me slowly instead of charging blindly, but that''s fine. If it won''t come to me, I''ll just have to go to it.


    Even just moving feels cleaner, somehow. Like I''m moving the world around me as much as I''m moving myself through the world. I''m not so fast that the chimera can''t react to me, but I''m fast enough to catch up to it. The Aspect of Energy speeds me up, and the Aspect of the Mind tells me where it''s going to go.


    I leap the exact moment it tries to dodge to the left, hook an arm around its neck, and trigger Temporal Link.


    <hr>


    "I''m sorry."


    Her hand shakes. There''s a weapon of some kind in it¡ªI can''t quite make it out. The vision from Temporal Link is fuzzy, like the events within it happened many, many loops ago. I can tell that it''s a weapon. I can tell that the lizardlike woman holding it is pointing it at someone that looks remarkably like her. Her brother? Why would he be in the Trial with her?


    "Don''t do this," he begs. "Please, we can figure this out together! Haven''t we always?"


    "We can''t." There''s a pained sort of determination in her voice, but it''s not the kind I''m used to. It''s not determination born from hope or love or a desire for anything better.


    It''s determination born from pain. The kind you''re left with when everything else is broken. The kind that leads you into making mistakes that stay with you forever.


    I know it all too well. I want to step in, to interrupt, to interfere¡ªbut like with all the other temporal visions, nothing happens when I try to grasp her wrist. This is an event that''s been repeated across time and space, over and over and over. All I''m witnessing is the scar left behind.


    "How do you know?!" her brother cries.


    "Because we already tried." Her grip on her weapon tightens. Her voice becomes a little more manic. "You can''t grow. You''re weak. You hold me back every time, no matter how we try to get it done. I need to get out, and I can''t¡ªI can''t do it with you."


    "And killing me is going to help with that?" he asks. He tries to take a step closer, but flinches when she fires a shot that sears itself into the wood behind him.


    "Yes. The Interface says it will." She swallows. "I just need to kill you enough times. It''s fine. It won''t be real. You won''t remember."


    He opens his mouth to protest. It''s real for him, no matter how many times she loops. But he doesn''t get the chance. A weapon fires, cutting through him too quick for either of them to react or rethink their actions.


    And I see it happen again and again. I see the echoes of it, all across time.


    After the thirtieth try, she stops apologizing. Doesn''t speak to him before she does it. Doesn''t look him in the eye.


    But the guilt remains.


    <hr>


    The Chimera is trembling when the link breaks. It lets out a low, keening whine¡ªthe closest thing to a cry I''ve ever heard from one of them. Then it turns to me, fire blazing out of its scales. It''s not alive enough to understand what it''s feeling, but it does know that I was the cause.


    There''s only one humane option here. What I''m fighting is just an echo. It''s not a true Remnant, not something that has a link to the original Trialgoer I might be able to trace.


    All I can do is end it.


    [You have defeated a Guilty Chimera (Rank A)! You have gained 4 Physical points. You have gained 25 Astral points. You have gained 20 Firmament credits.]


    The forest feels a little more quiet than usual. I watch as the chimera''s body fades away, the Firmament holding it together dissociating into nothing.


    "I think that''s enough for now," I say, just loud enough for both Ahkelios and He-Who-Guards to hear me. They rejoin me in the small clearing that was created by the first chimera''s initial strike; Ahkelios looks like he''s about to congratulate me, but he senses something through our link and quickly changes course.


    "You okay?" he asks, concerned.


    "I''m fine." I hesitate a moment, trying to decide if I should elaborate. "Just saw another one of the past Trialgoers that went through this Trial. I think she killed her brother."


    Ahkelios pauses. "And you''re sure you''re fine?"


    "I will be." I shrug uncomfortably¡ªit''s not that the vision didn''t affect me. There''s something else about it that''s bothering me, though.


    You can''t grow. You''re weak.


    I can''t imagine thinking the way she does. Both Guard and Ahkelios have taken strides to grow on their own, even without my help. But it might be time that I become a more active participant in that growth¡ªif they''re going to be fighting by my side, then I owe it to them to help them past any roadblocks they might have.


    Ahkelios has the Interface now. His next shift is just a matter of time. But Guard? He''s still struggling with the enormous amount of Firmament he carries. My fix is enough for him to live a relatively normal life. It''s not enough for him to push to the next phase shift, to stabilize and anchor himself through the layers.


    "Guard," I say. "We should figure out if you can phase shift. Are you up for it?"


    He''s startled, I can tell. He looks at me like he isn''t quite sure what to make of what I just said. "Now?" he asks. "I have made previous attempts..."


    "And it hasn''t gone well, I know," I say. "But I want to see what happens when you try. I''ll keep an eye on your Firmament and be here if anything goes wrong. It''ll give me a better idea of what''s stopping the phase shift."


    Oddly enough, Guard looks embarrassed. "I am willing to try," he says. He maneuvers himself so that he''s sitting in the middle of the clearing and takes a deep breath, cycling air through his vents. "I do not think anything will go badly wrong, exactly, but... you will not think less of me when I fail?"


    Ahkelios scoffs. "Come on, who do you think we are?" he asks, nudging Guard.


    "You did save our asses back in the dungeon, don''t forget," I say.


    Guard nods, seeming a little reassured. It''s always surprising to me when he showcases these little moments of vulnerability¡ªI wonder if he''s started feeling a little more comfortable with us. A little less like he has to constantly project that image of being a protector and a shield.


    I kneel behind him, placing my palms on his back and extending my senses, feeling out the edges of his soul.


    "Ready when you are," I say.


    The lights on Guard''s body dim as he reaches within himself¡ª


    ¡ªand I feel something else react.

 191 — Book 3, Chapter 50 — Elsewhere, Elsewhen

    In the streets of First Sky, a change sparked. It was a change that was set into motion years ago from the perspective of its citizens¡ªa small, barely noticeable alteration to the materials the scirix used to build their homes.


    A certain parasite thought that a larger change might have been too noticeable. That it might have sparked a response from the Interface. It was one thing to make changes to the challenge that a Trialgoer had to face and another thing entirely to alter the fundamental direction of a dungeon Ritual created by its soulrot.


    For the most part, that change did nothing. The majority of their building materials were untouched, and life¡ªas well as the intended course of events¡ªwent on as normal. Novi was the first to notice the color-drain phenomenon, though almost no one else believed her; her only allies in that respect were her sons.


    Despite that, Novi was chosen to create the Record. Her sensitivity to changes in Firmament was unparalleled. It wasn''t long before she was promoted to Seer herself, until others began to notice the change she warned of; then First Sky began to take her warnings more seriously. They began trying to understand what was happening to their home and why.


    In the midst of all this, a scirix named Varus took a walk along the streets. He passed by a home that was still mid-construction, whistling to himself; he''d recently met a peer that went by the name of Juri, and he was excited to see him again.


    Excited enough that he didn''t quite pay attention when the scaffolding on the home next to him began to tremble. It was only when a threatening crack sounded that he looked up¡ªand by then, it was too late.


    Or it would have been.


    There was a man in what looked like armor made of bone standing over him. Looming over him, really. He wore what Varus hoped was a helmet that resembled a draconian skull, and the large chunk of stone that would have crushed Varus had simply crumpled ineffectually against it, leaving chunks of dust and shattered rock scattered around them both.


    Varus opened his mouth to thank the stranger¡ªa Protector that someone else had summoned, he assumed¡ªbut the words froze in his throat. Something about this Protector''s power was terrifying. He projected a casual sense of destruction, like he lived in a world of glass and it was only by his will that anything was allowed to live.


    "Interesting," Kauku murmured. "I suppose it makes sense that it would target you. The others are too obvious a target, yes?"


    Varus had no idea what this stranger was talking about, but he forced himself to speak. "Are... you alright?"


    Kauku tilted his head at him, then barked out a laugh. "I was expecting you to run," he said. "It''s not easy for mortals to exist around me. You remind me of a certain someone."


    Varus hoped that was a good thing. "Thank you for saving me," he said.


    "You''re quite welcome," Kauku said. He straightened, looking around. "Ah... there it is. I see why Ethan was warned. Unfortunate."


    Varus watched, alarmed, as this Protector¡ªthe strongest being he had ever encountered by far¡ªsuddenly stumbled. His armor cracked. A greenish-black flame seemed to glow from those cracks, and that same flame lit up in a single socket of the Protector''s skull.


    "I have some time." Kauku said the words as if nothing was happening. "I''ll just have to... Let''s see."


    A pause. Varus felt a gathering of power. A brilliant blue flashed opposite the sickly green, and something seemed to slam into the fabric of reality itself, shaking it to its very foundations. "Seal."


    Varus had no idea what had just happened or what he''d just witnessed. It felt like something had just been driven deep into the world. Like a change of some kind had just been anchored into his home. Into the very foundations of First Sky.


    He took a step¡ª


    Varus shook his head and blinked.


    "Ow. Feels like I just took a blow to the head." He looked around at the scattering of crushed rock. "Maybe I did take a blow to the head. Did something fall on me?"


    It did look like the building next to him had collapsed, but for the life of him he couldn''t remember witnessing it. Weird.


    Varus shrugged and walked on.


    <hr>


    Gheraa felt... nebulous.


    Which was a pretty large step up from feeling nothing at all, if he was being honest, but it was still strange. It was like he wasn''t entirely there¡ªdifferent from his thoughts being clouded and different from the state of near-death he''d been thrown into before he was tossed down through the Intermediary.


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    It felt more like he didn''t entirely exist. Like the world around him wasn''t quite real. It took him a moment to pinpoint what it reminded him of.


    Dreams. It felt like he was dreaming.


    Except he wasn''t. He was pretty sure he wasn''t dreaming, anyway. He shouldn''t have been able to dream at all, considering the last thing he remembered was being very much dead. He remembered the last vestiges of his consciousness fading away as he witnessed Ethan pulling off one final miracle.


    Ethan! Was he the cause of this? Gheraa couldn''t imagine how, but if anyone was going to resurrect an Integrator from the dead¡ªespecially him, of all Integrators¡ªit was probably Ethan.


    "It is not Ethan," a voice told him. It paused, then amended its words. "Not yet."


    Gheraa frowned, looking around. He couldn''t see much of anything¡ªthe place he was in looked something like the Intermediary, but... wrong. Distorted. Filled with soulrot. It took him a moment to realize that soulrot was his own, and he made a face; the sensation of existing within your own corpse was disquieting, to say the least.


    "Can you not listen in on my thoughts?" he asked. "It''s a little weird."


    "I cannot." The voice was quite blunt. "You are required for a task."


    "What''s that supposed to mean?" Gheraa folded his arms across his chest. "In case you didn''t notice, I''m kind of dead. In a very self-sacrificial, heroic sort of way, I might add! Not how I imagined I''d go out, but I''m pretty sure I''ve done my part. That''s at least a year''s worth of good deeds right there."


    Not that he minded being alive again. Being alive was nice. He just didn''t trust mysterious voices telling him to do things. How many times had they pulled that exact trick on Trialgoers?


    The voice sighed. "I am Hestia''s Heart," it told him. She? She told him. "And you are needed, lest that friend of yours be lost to time forever."


    "Ethan?" Gheraa frowned, then scoffed. "Ethan doesn''t need me. He''s got what he needs. Besides, Integrators aren''t supposed to interfere with Trials."


    "And you are still an Integrator?" the Heart questioned. Gheraa bristled.


    "Technically!" he said. "I mean, look, I don''t care about their rules anymore, but the Interface will try to kill me if I show up on Hestia. And I doubt you can put me back in Integrator land. And if you did, they''d just kill me again. After interrogating me." He waved a hand irritably. "I don''t know what you''re planning, but it''s not gonna work, and you''re disturbing my beauty sleep."


    Again, not that he minded being alive again. It occurred to Gheraa that he was antagonizing a planetary Heart, a type of entity no Integrator had ever spoken to before. And that said Heart was quite possibly responsible for his current half-alive state.


    He was being a little bit foolish, maybe. It wasn''t like he didn''t want to help Ethan. And he definitely didn''t want to go back to his "beauty sleep".


    "Actually," he added hastily. "What are you planning?"


    Gheraa couldn''t really tell, but the Heart''s response seemed to carry a hint of laughter within it. "You are a paradox," she mused. "In more ways than one. An Integrator that goes against the plans of your kind. Alive, yet dead."


    "How am I alive, anyway?" Gheraa muttered.


    "A minor paradox." The Heart said it the way Ethan would sometimes bring up his own impossible feats¡ªlike it was mere fact. "You are alive in enough futures that I can maintain a small temporal loop to allow you to render Ethan assistance. You will be less than before, of course. Your full self is too great to be sustained."


    "Gee, thanks," Gheraa muttered. The way she said it didn''t really seem like a compliment. "And you want me to... what, just help him? What''s he need me for?"


    "I want you to pass on a message," the Heart said. "Tell him to head to the Quiet Grove. It will take most of my power, but I have left a gift for him there."


    "You couldn''t have told him that yourself?" Gheraa asked. He winced almost as soon as he said the words. He really didn''t need to give her more reason not to resurrect him.


    "I am... prevented from reaching him," the Heart said without further elaboration. "You must speak to him in my stead, and you must give him a warning."


    Gheraa frowned. "What do you mean, a warning?"


    The Heart''s voice was grave. "There are secrets that your kind hides even from themselves," she said. "I can say no more."


    "You can''t just say I need to warn him and then not tell me what I need to warn him about," Gheraa protested. "What am I supposed to do, find out my own secrets? Dig around in my own corpse?"


    There was a long silence.


    "Hey!"


    Another long silence.


    "Hello?" Gheraa frowned. "Are you still there?"


    Still nothing.


    "I''m definitely supposed to dig around in my own corpse, aren''t I," Gheraa muttered, mostly to himself. He thought for a moment. Was he really going to throw himself into the fight again for Ethan? He had a choice here. He didn''t need to do any of this¡ªhad never asked for any of this.


    Gheraa snorted to himself.


    He knew what Ethan would do, and there was no way he was going to let Ethan get one over him.


    There were a million other people the Heart could have chosen to deliver her message to Ethan. If she''d chosen him, then it was for a reason. Whatever secret the Integrators were keeping from themselves¡ªwhatever that meant¡ªwas clearly important.


    And by the Interface, he would figure it out. And hand-deliver that message!


    Almost as if responding to his thoughts, the air in front of him rippled. Gheraa felt a surge of Firmament crackling around him like static; in moments, there was a portal linking the Intermediary and Hestia once more, flickering at the edges.


    He grinned, seeing the message for what it was. "Find what I need and get to Ethan, eh?" he said out loud. He had no idea if the Heart could hear him. "Alright, then. You got it."


    Honestly, he was kind of excited. It would be good to see Ethan again.


    He couldn''t wait to find out what Ethan had accomplished this time.

 192 — Book 3, Chapter 51 — Call and Response

    It had been a long time since He-Who-Guards had attempted a phase shift.


    The first phase shift was usually something that occurred almost at random. When a practitioner''s Firmament reached the right state¡ªwhen they were sufficiently in tune with both themselves and their power¡ªthe base, foundational layer of their core would evolve. Any practitioner nearby, if they were willing, could donate samples of their own Firmament to help with this process, influencing that base layer of the core in turn.


    Guard remembered legends about this, even. Legends that a long, long time ago, ancient practitioners would sequester themselves away with powerful imbued artifacts for precisely this reason. They didn''t need donors if they could use those artifacts instead, and they wanted their first shift to be something that matched whatever their plans were for the growth of their power. Someone who was wealthy enough might, for instance, carry an imbued lightning stone into a deep cave and meditate until they struck their first shift.


    It was different these days, of course. For one thing, imbued artifacts weren''t nearly so easy to acquire anymore, and even those that could be acquired were relatively weak. Shifts were not nearly as easy to predict in terms of when they would happen. As a result, most practitioners made do with whatever they had when the shift triggered.


    And then there was He-Who-Guards. It was a little different for him.


    Failing that first shift wasn''t unheard of. It was common, even. The process often required a practitioner to do battle within their own cores against a daemon created from their own Firmament. More often than not, a first-time practitioner would lose that fight.


    As He-Who-Guards had.


    His first shift had triggered early in his life, when he was little more than a wispling. He''d lost that fight almost immediately¡ªhadn''t even known what was going on, for the most part. But a failure to complete the first shift didn''t make for a permanent failure; the Firmament donations were locked in place, but a practitioner could always rest and try again.


    Guard had tried it at least a dozen times over the course of his formative years, and he''d never once won.


    There was a little caveat when it came to that first shift. The more powerful your Firmament, the harder it was to complete. The core daemon within Guard''s soul was an ugly, monstrous thing that tore him apart the second it laid eyes on him and every time he''d tried thereafter. It hadn''t mattered what strategy he used¡ªhadn''t mattered how fast he tried to be or how much he prepared himself. It hadn''t mattered even when he poured every fragment of his will into resisting that first hit.


    It was nothing new, really. He''d spent most of his life fighting against his own Firmament. He''d known since he was young enough to understand that he would die early¡ªthat the force of his own power would unravel his soul from within. It came as no surprise that it proved an obstacle even in the one area it mattered most: gaining the strength he needed to protect those he loved.


    "Are you okay?" Ethan asked. He could hear the concern in the human''s voice. His hands were warm against the metal of his back, and Guard thought he could almost feel the slightest tendril of Ethan''s power brushing against his core. Observing. "I thought I felt you start the phase shift just now and I think I sensed something, but you stopped it."


    "I am fine," Guard lied. "I was simply nervous."


    Ethan frowned. Guard couldn''t see that he was frowning, but he could certainly feel it. Ahkelios was mirroring the frown, too, so now both of his friends were frowning at him.


    "I will be fine," Guard amended. "I am... contemplating. My memories of past shifts are not pleasant."


    "If it''s that bad, we don''t have to do it right now," Ethan said.


    "I would like to." Guard fidgeted slightly, suddenly self-conscious¡ªa rare emotion for him. "It isn''t the shifts themselves. Those end too quickly for me to experience much more than slight disorientation. But it is... difficult, to think of how much I''ve lost. How little a chance I''ve had to live."


    To say nothing of what Whisper had done to him. Her intentions may have been for the best in the beginning, but everything she''d done since tainted all his memories with her. Now even the good ones were a bittersweet reminder of what he''d lost and what he''d been forced to become.


    Ethan seemed to understand. "You know you don''t have to stay with us," he said. "If at any time you want to, I don''t know, explore the world¡ª"


    Guard snorted before he could stop himself. "I see more of the world with you two than I ever have on my own or with Whisper," he said. "And I enjoy your company. Even if you are a stressful charge to have."


    "Hey!" Ethan''s hands left his back, and Guard could imagine him crossing his arms to glare at him. "I am not your charge."


    "You may as well be." Guard let a little bit of amusement filter in through his voice¡ªEthan and Ahkelios were both rather easy to rile up if he wanted to. He probably shouldn''t enjoy it quite as much as he did.


    Ethan made a grumbling noise, and Guard felt his hands press against his back once more. "Just try your phase shift already. I want to see what''s happening in there."


    "Very well." Guard found, to his surprise, that even that short exchange had settled his nerves. He was no longer unsettled. Even ruminating on the past just glanced off the bubble of the present.


    He was amongst friends, now. How long had it been since he''d just been amongst friends? No expectations, no pressure... Even his friendship with Whisper had always been tainted by the knowledge that he was technically beholden to her. A knight in her employ, so to speak.


    This was nice.


    Guard triggered his phase shift a second time, and this time he let his soul consume him.


    <hr>


    Something was different this time. He-Who-Guards sensed it before he saw it, and even then he couldn''t quite believe what he was seeing. His core daemon was right there in front of him¡ªa massive, spiderlike monstrosity built out of countless shards of prismatic Firmament. It hung in the air in front of him, clinging to a web built out of even more of that Firmament.


    He-Who-Guards thought, briefly, that what he was looking at reminded him a lot of Isthanok. They were both shattered, imperfect things, made out of the shards of something that had once been whole.


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    Where did that thought come from? he wondered. Guard wasn''t sure that his Firmament had ever been whole.


    And yet this time, unlike all the others, his core daemon wasn''t attacking him. It was just staring at him. Watching, waiting...


    Guard had heard that it was, technically, possible to simply cooperate with the core daemon and accomplish the first shift that way. He''d even tried doing exactly that more than once. He was rarely even given the chance to speak before being struck down.


    And yet now it was just watching him.


    "...Hello?" he tried.


    Nothing. The daemon didn''t react. Somehow Guard was surprised¡ªhe''d been half-expecting it to rip him apart as soon as his voice rang out into his soulspace. He saw himself being reflected eight times over in each of its eyes, and for the first time, felt that he was somewhat at a loss. This was the farthest he''d ever gotten in a phase shift, and he didn''t even know how he''d achieved it.


    There were two flames next to the spider, one pink and the other green; they were donations by each of his parents. He hadn''t even seen them in so long. Both of his parents were long dead, struck down during the chaos of Hestia''s Integration.


    Guard missed them. It struck him here how much he missed them. He hadn''t had much occasion to even think about them of late, but here and now, with the last remnants of their power floating in front of him within his soul...


    He let himself soak that in just for a moment. It felt almost like they were here with him.


    When nothing else happened, Guard took a few steps forward, forcing himself to keep moving when the spider-thing''s eyes tracked each movement. He stopped only when he was right in front of it, and when he spoke, he surprised himself with how steadily his words emerged.


    "What do you want from me?" he asked.


    There was a long pause. He-Who-Guards waited.


    Eventually¡ªto his surprise¡ªthere was an answer.


    "To complete your first phase shift, you must decide on an identity," his daemon said. Its voice was strange, like the layered reflections of a dozen different individuals echoing across one another. "You must have an answer to the question of who you are. And you have never had that answer before now."


    "I have," Guard said. "I have always had that answer. All silverwisps do. It is in our names¡ªwritten into our souls from the moment of our birth."


    "Ah, but is it?" the daemon asked. It began to move, eight legs balancing precariously on webbing that only appeared when it took a step. Guard turned as it circled him, trying to keep it within his line of sight. "That is what our people believe, certainly. But is that true, or is the name we are given simply one of many threads in the web of our potential?"


    Guard floundered. He''d come in here preparing for a fight, not for a philosophical debate. "It... is true that not all of us choose to do what our names pertain to," he admitted, though not without some uncertainty. "It is an accepted possibility. But I am the one that guards. It is the path I have chosen and the path that feels most true to my self. The name is correct."


    Even as he spoke the words, he wondered if he was speaking the truth. There was little information out there about core daemons that were willing to speak. Maybe it knew something that he didn''t. Maybe it understood some part of himself that he''d never allowed himself to understand.


    "Why speak to me now?" he asked finally. "It cannot just be that my answer has changed¡ªnot if I do not even know how that answer has changed."


    "Perhaps a demonstration, then," the daemon said.


    And then it struck him.


    Or it attempted to strike him.


    Guard hadn''t reacted in time¡ªhe''d never been able to when it came to matters of the soul, but this time, he didn''t need to. A shimmering wall of dense blue-gold Firmament met the prismatic blade the daemon launched toward him. Another millisecond more and it would have torn through the makeshift construct that represented him, but...


    Ethan. The human had defended him with a wall of power so thick even two of the daemon''s blades would have struggled to pierce it. Behind that power, the daemon watched him, unsurprised and unmoving. Guard half expected it to attack a second time, but it didn''t.


    Understanding came to him then.


    He had changed.


    It wasn''t that his name was inaccurate. Even as a wispling he''d been a stalwart guardian, first of the little toys he was given to play with and then bigger, more important things. Eventually, he''d been pledged to Whisper as her own personal friend and guard.


    He enjoyed the job. He found fulfilment in it. Even Whisper thought it was his purpose¡ªwhen she took control, she gave him what she thought he wanted. She''d turned him into a one-man army that stood as Isthanok''s only real guardian.


    In doing so, he''d slowly learned¡ªthough it was a realization that hadn''t crystallized until this very moment¡ªthat he didn''t like this framing of who and what he was.


    It was too lonely.


    How many decades had he served? It would''ve been one thing if he had a single body, a single mind¡ªbut split across countless proxies with a single main, overengineered elite, he''d experienced decades of collective time. Maybe centuries.


    It wasn''t that he''d grown tired of it. He hadn''t been tired of it when he''d finally been freed. He hadn''t hesitated for even a moment to help Isthanok as it was besieged by the Integrator''s puppets.


    But he hadn''t done any of those things alone.


    He didn''t want to just guard what he was told to guard. This wasn''t a job to him, and he wasn''t defined by some single object or location he stood over.


    There was a better word for what he did, he thought. A word that resonated with him not too long ago.


    "You see it," the daemon said. "The misalignment in your self."


    "I am not a guard," Guard said. "I am a protector."


    And he didn''t act alone. He didn''t want to serve as a vassal, didn''t want to guard whatever was deemed important. He wanted to stand as an equal among others that cared as much as he did.


    Ethan had recognized that before he did. Guard almost laughed to himself¡ªof course he had. The barrier faded, and the daemon lowered itself to meet his eyes; Guard found himself surprisingly unafraid.


    "Now you see," it said.


    "I do." Guard could feel it now¡ªthe alignment between his soul and his self. All he needed to do was push...


    But there was a barrier. He frowned.


    "One more task before you are ready," the daemon told him. "A single answer would suffice for a single shift, but you hold more than heart within you, and the second one is incomplete."


    "A second..." Guard took a moment to process this, and when he did, the realization struck hard. "The AI?"


    "It remains incomplete," the daemon said. "And we cannot move on while it remains shackled to us."


    He-Who-Guards opened his optic, feeling the attempted shift fade away. For a moment, he sat there, processing how different the world seemed with just the simple realization of who he was.


    For now, though, there was something more important. Both he and the AI core bound to him were victims of circumstance. Guard had his freedom¡ªthe AI hadn''t. He hadn''t really considered the possibility that it might have been just as alive as he was. Just as trapped as he was.


    His feelings were complicated. They had imprisoned one another, in a way, albeit only because of Whisper.


    But he was free now, and it deserved the same. Guard finally moved, turning to face both Ethan and Ahkelios. There was only one person who knew enough about the AI core within him to offer a solution. One person that had been there at the start and helped develop it.


    Before he could speak¡ª


    "We need to find out what happened with Miktik, don''t we?" Ethan asked.


    Guard blinked. He supposed he shouldn''t have been surprised.


    "I know it has been some time," he said. "Do you think it is possible to see what happened?"


    "It wasn''t possible yesterday," Ethan said. He glanced down at his hands, and Guard saw the flex in the air before him as the human channeled pure, condensed Firmament on the cusp of the fourth shift. "But now? I think I have a way."

 193 — Book 3, Chapter 52 — Past Events

    What I want to do now is something I considered doing from the moment I acquired The Road Not Taken. The only reason I haven''t done it yet is because... well, because I couldn''t. I''ve tried. The amount of Firmament it takes to go back and explore a different path increases almost exponentially the farther back I go; using the skill to try and retry Tarin and Naru''s surgery was, moments ago, more or less my limit.


    But things are a little different now. I''ve taken a half-step into the next realm of Firmament. I doubt that will make this easy, but if nothing else, I suspect it''s no longer outright impossible.


    I take a deep breath. I''m a little more nervous than I expected. I still don''t know why Miktik did what she did; part of me fears finding out that it was something preventable, that it was something I should have noticed and tried to circumvent. It still feels... surreal, that she''s gone. Death is so impermanent in the loops that for someone''s loss to be permanent doesn''t stick properly with me.


    When I see her again¡ªeven just under the effects of the skill¡ªit''s going to be like she''s still alive. I may not have known her well, but she was still a friend, and the idea of seeing her alive and well again, knowing there''s nothing I can truly change...


    It''s not an idea that sits well with me. I haven''t forgotten everything she''s done for us. I haven''t forgotten watching through Ahkelios as Whisper''s skill burned through her.


    She could have told Whisper about us to end it, but she didn''t.


    In a way, I think I owe this to her. I might not be able to bring her back, but whatever it was she wanted before she died¡ªI''m sure there''s something I can do about that. Something we can do about that.


    It''s something to do with Guard''s AI core. I''m almost certain of that. That core is the whole reason Miktik agreed to work with Whisper in the first place. If there''s anything that could drive her to dive by herself into the Intermediary, it has to be something she thought was really, truly important.


    Time to find out what it was.


    The Road Not Taken.


    In theory, the change is simple. The problem is how far back it is¡ªnot just in linear time, but in loop time. Even with the changes to my Firmament it takes a concerted effort of will to make the change I want to change. I feel a barrier in front of me, and forcing myself through it feels like forcing myself through a sieve.


    It hurts. That''s the main thing I don''t expect. It''s not the same as the exhaustion of putting myself through the procedure with Tarin over and over. This is me forcing myself back through time, stretching the skill farther than it''s supposed to stretch, forcing more out of it by pouring more Firmament through than it can handle.


    The pain is soul-deep, like I''m forcing open a gate using my own core as the doorway. Blood drips out of my nose¡ªI hear Ahkelios making a panicked sort of noise along with a worried whirring from Guard. I feel metal hands grabbing me as I collapse and chitinous ones holding me steady.


    But I manage. I Anchor my changes, drawing deep, and take step after step into the past.


    And when I''m far enough, I make a choice. Not a natural one, given the circumstances. Not something I could or would have chosen to do without the knowledge I have now.


    This is no simple tweak to the past. It''s a full, embodied change.


    ¡ª


    "Miktik," I say, looking up at her. My head throbs. The pain continues into this version of myself and holds, persistent; this is more than I''m supposed to be able to do with this skill, and it punishes me for what I''m doing.


    I ignore it. This is important.


    There''s a change in my voice that startles Miktik. I see it in the way she looks at me, her eyes suddenly wide. I know what happens next here¡ªwe split up. In my Isthanok loops, this is right after we split up and each of the rebels went to find out more about Whisper''s plans. It wasn''t long after this that I had to chase after and save each of them from the circumstances they''d ended up in.


    Miktik was supposed to stay back at the workshop to act as a sort of return point for any information we managed to gather. She was not supposed to leave. The whole point was that she wouldn''t be in any danger, that any information sent back to her would be preserved until I was able to talk to her.


    But I see it now, I think. There''s a bit of nervousness in the way she moves. She fidgets more than she normally does. She''s already planning to leave for the Intermediary. More likely than not she''s thinking it''ll be a quick thing, that no one has to know...


    What I don''t understand is why she didn''t talk to any of us about it. I almost think to myself that I should have noticed¡ªshould have seen her fidgeting, the way her eyes dart toward the door. I see it now. But I don''t let myself wallow in the thought. That way lies misery. I''ve already been down the path of what-ifs and should-have-beens.


    "Ethan," Miktik says, echoing the way I said her name. She seems a little confused. Probably because I''m just staring at her.


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    "You don''t stay in your workshop," I say. The throbbing in my head is getting worse and spreading through my body. There''s no time for subtlety here. "Why are you going to the Intermediary?"


    There''s a shocked silence. I remember somewhat belatedly that we''re not alone¡ªmost of the others don''t know what I''m talking about, though.


    "What is this, a loop thing?" Bimar scoffs. "You trying... to... intimidate..."


    She trails off, probably because she''s noticed the same thing I have. Miktik isn''t meeting any of our gazes. The plates on her back shuffle together nervously.


    "Miktik doesn''t know what you''re talking about," she says quietly.


    "Miktik," Bimar says, her voice suddenly dangerous. Or... no. It''s angry. Exasperated. Has Miktik done this before? "What is this supposed Trialgoer talking about?"


    "Miktik doesn''t know," she insists.


    "We can tell when you''re lying." Bimar''s voice is flat. Colder, more out of disappointment and worry than a sense of betrayal. "You already tried to find it. It''s not there."


    "But... there are places Miktik can''t check," Miktik protests weakly. "Normally. But if we have the Trialgoer..."


    "What then?" Bimar asks. "Let''s say you do find it. You miraculously survive long enough to tell the Trialgoer, and you''re dead, but not permanently, because of whatever time nonsense he''s got going. What are you going to do with it?"


    "Fix things," Miktik says. "Miktik can fix things. Miktik just needs¡ª"


    "Excuse me," I say politely. "I need you both to tell me what you''re talking about. Right now."


    I''m a little more brusque than I intend to be. The pain is getting worse. I can feel the active drain on my Firmament and what feels like a wound being slowly pulled apart as I hold open a branch of time that was never meant to be.


    "Ethan, it''s not¡ª" Miktik tries to protest.


    "Miktik." I step closer and kneel by her¡ªshe flinches, but I think she sees something in my eyes, because she suddenly stills. "...I''m sorry. I''m really, really sorry. But if this is important at all, if it could help Guard or that AI you left with Whisper, I need to know. Now. As quickly as you can tell me."


    <hr>


    "...I''m sorry. I''m really, really sorry. But if this is important at all, if it could help Guard or that AI you left with Whisper, I need to know. Now. As quickly as you can tell me."


    Miktik saw the look in Ethan''s eyes. He was sad. Why was he suddenly sad? There was no reason for him to be sad. No reason for him to look at her like¡ªlike she was¡ªlike he''d¡ª


    The thought froze in her mind. Crystallized into something painful and broken.


    "Ethan," she asked. Whispered. She didn''t want the rest of her friends to hear it¡ªnot if she could help it. It would create too much chaos, delay things. In all honesty, she knew she shouldn''t even have asked, but she couldn''t help herself. "Am I dead?"


    The look in his eyes told her enough. She didn''t know how he was doing this, but if this was the approach he was taking, then he couldn''t save her. There was a look in his eyes...


    He''d tried. He''d failed. And the longer this took, the more things shrunk around them, until reality was nothing more than the two of them.


    How was he doing this? How was he talking to her now? Was he from the future? Was this some branched, doomed loop? What did it mean for her if she was real, if she had thoughts and feelings and...


    No. Not a useful train of thought. Miktik shut it down, forced it away, took a deep, shuddering breath; Ethan waited for her without a word, despite the pain she saw in him. Not emotional pain. The physical pain radiating through him. Whatever he was doing now was costing him.


    Her species could sense the pain of others. She''d never told him that. Never told anyone that, as far as she knew. What made her decision for her how well he was hiding it.


    All that pain, and the only thing she saw in his eyes was kindness.


    Miktik was afraid of many things, in truth. She thought of herself as cowardly for giving in to Whisper''s demands. For not protecting what she''d considered her responsibility. But skies above, if Ethan could push aside that much pain and spare her nothing but kindness...


    She could be brave. Just this once. Even if she''d be judged, even if she''d be damned.


    She told him.


    "It¡ªher name is Aris," she said. "The chip I gave Whisper, I mean. She''s a modified artificial intelligence protocol. She''s supposed to be a nursing program, but I made some changes, I wanted¡ª" Her voice broke. "¡ªI wanted someone I could raise. She was going to be my daughter. I¡ª"


    Ethan put her hand on her shell. She froze for a moment, expecting judgement or rebuke, but no. Only kindness.


    Miktik made herself keep going.


    "I raised¡ªit took a few years," she said. "I raised her for a few years before Whisper took her from me. She isn''t complete yet. She still needs¡ªthere''s a part she still needs to be alive, something called a circuit veil, and I''ve been looking for it so if we get her back¡ª"


    Her voice failed her then, but she''d said what she needed to. She thought Ethan would leave then. He had what he needed, and maintaining this hurt him, she could tell.


    Instead, he drew her into a hug.


    "What would you tell her?" he asked quietly. "Tell me quickly. If there was one thing you could give her to remember you by."


    Miktik froze. Ethan would¡ª? What would she even say? Would Aris care?


    Why was there so much hope suddenly burning in her?


    She leaned in and whispered her words. Ethan let her. There were a lot of them, and the longer she took, the more of his pain she felt, but he held on. Let her say her dues.


    Not just for Aris. For everyone she''d let down.


    And when it was done, he hugged her close once more. "They all love you," he said.


    He told her what they''d said at her funeral. The goodbyes they''d given. The memories that were important to them, which were nothing like the ones Miktik imagined they''d be. She could have wept. Did weep.


    It was her, in the end, who had to tell Ethan to stop what he was doing. To tell him she could feel that holding on to this was damaging him. He''d given her peace.


    "Thank you," she said. She meant it almost more than anything she''d ever meant in her life, save perhaps the words she left for Aris.


    Ethan smiled at her. A sad smile.


    And then Miktik was once again no more.

 194 — Book 3, Chapter 53 — Parallels

    Coming out of the skill-induced trance of The Road Not Taken is a heady thing. Most of that, I think, is because I pushed myself to the limit and more. I hadn''t really been planning to hold on to the skill for that long, but when I looked Miktik in the eyes¡ªwhen she realized what was happening...


    I hadn''t expected or prepared for that. How could I?


    I did the only thing I could. Not the smartest thing, perhaps. Not the most battle-efficient, certainly. I feel wrung out, like even trying to use more Firmament at the moment is going to burn out what''s left of my core. Trying to stand up causes me to sway on my feet¡ªlucky for me, Ahkelios and Guard are almost immediately at my side, helping me.


    "Thanks," I say. "Pushed myself a bit hard there."


    "You think?" Ahkelios grumbles. He-Who-Guards guides me to sit back down, and Ahkelios holds up a hand before I can say anything else. "We''re taking a break," he says. "I''m going to make you a bed, and we''ll make plans in the morning."


    Before I can respond, Ahkelios disappears into the forest. I blink.


    "We could''ve just borrowed a bed from the crows," I say, bemused. "He wants to make me one?"


    "I believe Ahkelios wishes to feel as though he is doing more to help," He-Who-Guards says. He crouches in front of me. "How are you feeling?"


    "You don''t have to worry that much," I say, wincing. "I overdrew on Firmament. I''ll be fine with a bit of rest. Probably."


    I''m pretty sure, anyway.


    "You make a habit of this," Guard says with a whirred sigh. There''s a note of something in his voice¡ªnot disapproval, exactly. He hesitates for a moment, examining me. "You did more than you had to do. Was it... worth it?"


    My answer is immediate. "It was."


    The words are true. He-Who-Guards might not know exactly what happened, but he apparently knows me well enough to understand that I did something. I chuckle a little to myself at the thought¡ªmaybe I''m becoming predictable.


    I don''t mind it. What I did there was important. It didn''t have to be efficient or practical.


    It just had to be kind.


    "Do you know where we are to go next?" Guard asks. I nod.


    "Back to the Intermediary," I say. "We need to get a part for that AI inside you, apparently. Not sure what happens after that, but it should complete them. And..."


    I hesitate, glancing into the distance where Ahkelios went. "While we''re there," I say. "We might as well get Ahkelios through his third shift. I have a feeling we''ll need it."


    There''s a message on the Interface, though I have yet to say anything about it. It''s a notification from before Guard''s attempted shift.


    [Anomalies detected in dungeon: The Empty City. Attempting to resolve...]


    [Attempt failed. Dungeon difficulty upgraded to reflect anomalous state.]


    [New difficulty: Submerged (F)]


    It worries me. There''s that whole new tier of power showing up again. Submerged, as far as I know, is the way the Interface categorizes the quality of imbuement stones; if that''s any indication of how many levels of power there are out there...


    I shudder a little. It almost makes me feel small. There hasn''t been any evidence yet that the Integrators or the other Trialgoers are capable of that level of power, and for now, that thought is what I''m clinging to: that this is an emergent level of power rather than an extant one. It''ll give me another tool to use against the Integrators when the time comes.


    As long as I''m right.


    With nothing else to do, I begin feeling around within my soul. If I hadn''t used up so much Firmament, now would be the perfect opportunity to test Soul Space and what it can do. There''s something about it that rings a bell.


    Specifically, it feels a little like there''s something already there within my soul, waiting for me to pull it out.


    I reach for it¡ª


    ¡ªand wince when an echoing response of pain blurs my vision. Guard gives me a stern look. "Ethan," he says reproachfully. "You need to let yourself recover."


    I cough and look away.


    Maybe I''ll give it a few more minutes.


    <hr>


    Walking around within his own corpse was, Gheraa reflected, not how he thought he''d spend his afterlife. Not that this was an afterlife, but calling it that seemed suitably dramatic and tickled him more than acknowledging the entirety of the situation.


    The portal was still sitting there, ready for him to emerge and re-enter Hestia, but first...


    There was a little-known fact about Integrators: the Firmament they were made out of wasn''t their own. Where that Firmament came from even they had no idea, but the soulrot that emerged from the very rare death of one of his kind often revealed secrets none of them consciously knew.


    Secrets none of them liked, either, or there would probably be a lot more dead Integrators. Instead, there was something of a concerted effort to censor anything that was uncovered and make sure no new Integrators died. Even when the others decided his crime was worthy of death, they''d made sure to dump his body off-planet.


    More fool them, really. Especially since Gheraa was pretty sure this made him the first and only Integrator to ever get to explore their own corpse.


    Was it a little weird that he was excited about this? Probably! But he had to get his entertainment somewhere, and Ethan wasn''t around for him to mess with.


    He still remembered Ethan''s expression when he shoved the All-Seeing Eye into his... well, eye. Good times. He wasn''t particularly picky about what body part he was shoving into which orifice, as long as the result was entertaining.


    Where was he?


    Right! Information.


    Gheraa stared ahead at the vastness of his own dungeon. It looked... well, unexplored and abandoned. Ethan hadn''t been here in a while, clearly; maybe he hadn''t been here at all. The thought of that sent a pang of hurt through him.


    But no, that was silly. The Heart had literally told him that Ethan would be here to bring him back from the dead. That whole paradox was the reason he was even alive right now.


    So! Time to help.


    He just had to figure out where to start.


    <hr>


    It took a few hours of searching, but Gheraa was eventually able to make some sense of his soulrot. The shape of it, what it was doing, how it was growing. The most interesting part was the way tendrils of it reached up through the Intermediary, intertwining themselves with the core pillar of Firmament meant to connect Hestia to the wider network and to his home world.


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    To any outside observer, it might''ve looked like Gheraa''s soul was trying to climb back up into his home. Gheraa knew better. Those tendrils weren''t trying to climb.


    They were trying to suffocate. Cut off all vestiges of the connection between the Hestia and the Integrators. They weren''t going to succeed with it¡ªeven now, the Intermediary was repairing itself, drawing from the immense stores of Firmament contained within the network to heal the damage¡ªbut Gheraa noted with no small amount of satisfaction that it was still slowing it down.


    Buying Ethan time, in other words. The more he could grow without the supervision of the Integrators, the better. The more he surprised them when he emerged, the better the chance he had.


    The better the chance for all of Earth, really.


    Ethan''s Interface may have been restricted, but Gheraa had seen the numbers.


    The human Trialgoers were surprisingly resilient. They fought and stayed alive longer than any of the other planets he could remember Integrating. They weren''t the strongest nor the fastest, but they kept getting up, over and over again. It was impressive. It was one of the reasons Gheraa had decided to take more and more risks with Ethan as time passed.


    It wasn''t enough.


    Earth had the lowest death-count of Trials by far, but they were also taking the longest to prove themselves. At the time of his death, not a single human had managed to pass their appointed Trial. Gheraa thought it was bizarre. That ratio of still-living participants usually indicated a particularly successful crop of Trialgoers; there should have been a record number of Trial completions, and yet...


    There was a theory among the Integrators, though it wasn''t a popular one. The idea was that the process of Integration and the Trials themselves was not a process that was ever meant to be complete. Their purpose lay in the enactment of it, and they were never meant to see the end of that path. The more Trials were completed and the more planets Integrated, the harder the remaining Trials would become, until it became an all but impossible task.


    Gheraa had never put much stock into the idea, but he was starting to wonder if it was true.


    He sighed to himself. Thinking about Ethan was more fun than all this theorizing. It felt like he was thinking himself into a corner. The point was, maybe Ethan could break the deadlock. He was growing faster than anyone Gheraa had seen by far.


    All this thinking did give him an idea, though. Maybe somewhere within this dungeon there were answers about the purpose of the Integrators. A way to learn about who put the Integrators here and why. That seemed like the sort of thing his people would try to censor.


    There was one obvious place to start. Gheraa glanced at the tendrils climbing into the sky. A dark-purple storm of Firmament seemed to roil beneath it, threatening death and calamity.


    "Of course," Gheraa muttered to himself. "Of course the deadly storm is where I have to go. I should''ve just started by looking for the deadly storm."


    He conjured a walking stick out of Firmament and gave it a twirl.


    "Well?" he called out into his own soul. He knew what dungeons were like. There was no way there wouldn''t be some kind of challenge he had to face. "We know what we like. Give me a show!"


    Right on cue, the walls began to rumble.


    Gheraa grinned. He took off his coat and folded it neatly, tucking it into a corner by the portal; he could come back for it later.


    And then he began to run.


    <hr>


    Zhao Hu Ong missed the sun.


    That was the one thing he didn''t have compared to all the other Trialgoers he''d been in contact with¡ªany kind of sky. It almost made him jealous of Adeya, whose Trial was nothing but sky. Granted, she''d spent several weeks falling before managing to safely land and survival was difficult in constant freefall, so he wasn''t actually that jealous.


    He just missed it all. The sun, the wind, being out in the open.


    As far as he could tell, his Trial was entirely underground. It didn''t matter how far "up" he tried to go¡ªthere would always be another room and another challenge. He''d tried breaking through the ceiling once and all that had accomplished was a particularly unique near-death experience involving nearly drowning in goblins. It wasn''t something he wanted to repeat anytime soon, so he hadn''t bothered trying again.


    He''d never considered himself claustrophobic, but he was pretty sure if he ever made it back to Earth it''d be a good few weeks before he walked into a building again, let alone a room. He''d sleep under the stars for a while. That sounded nice.


    Zhao sighed, leaned back against the wall, and stared up at the ceiling. This room was the closest he could get to being outside¡ªit was brightly lit and painted blue.


    Which felt kind of sad and pathetic when he put it into words, but whatever.


    There was a positive side to all this. His Trial let him take a break pretty much whenever he wanted. It only progressed when he made his way into the next rooms, and with everything he''d found¡ªfood, water, a room that was pretty much just a kitchen and another one that had an actual bed in it¡ªhe was more or less set. The only reason he ventured out was to earn credits so he could bank them for skills and work on his Firmament base.


    He could leave pretty much whenever he wanted. He''d found the exit. He''d uncovered the so-called hidden condition required to pass his Trial. There was a room that resembled a throbbing, beating heart rearranged like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. All he had to do was rearrange those pieces until it formed a complete heart and walk through the exit.


    Instead, he opened the Interface.


    [Initiating voice call with Adeya...]


    "Hey," Zhao greeted without preamble the moment the other Trialgoer picked up. Voice calls were convenient¡ªfar better than the chat function he''d unlocked earlier in his Trial. At least with voice calls he didn''t need to worry about the still-embarrassing username he''d accidentally locked in. His Integrator still refused to let him change it.


    "What do you want?" Adeya''s response was short and brusque, as always.


    "Any luck contacting Ethan?" Zhao asked. He was getting antsy.


    He could hear the irritation in Adeya''s response, though. "He''s still disconnected. You can see this yourself, no?"


    "You are the one delving Interface dungeons," Zhao argued. "I would not see this in the Interface. You have not encountered him? He must have access to one by now."


    Zhao was kind of stressed about it, in all honesty. He''d spoken to Ethan exactly once before the other Trialgoer disappeared from the chats again. Part of him felt responsible.


    "He''s not in any dungeon I have access to," Adeya replied. Her voice softened a little¡ªZhao realized he was letting a bit more of his stress bleed through than he''d intended. "I have some suspicions. Have you checked the rankings?"


    "No..." Zhao hesitated. He hadn''t checked them for a while, in fact.


    He flicked through the Interface. Some time ago, there''d been an incident that knocked all their Interfaces temporarily offline; when they rebooted, there was an odd message about the Intermediaries being disrupted. That disruption appeared to have caused glitches within the Interface, unlocking features he was pretty sure they weren''t intended to have.


    First among them was what brought Ethan to their attention in the first place: a ranking of human Trialgoers across all number of categories. The second was a list of all active dungeons, also termed as "soulrot infestations" in that particular section of the Interface.


    Ethan was the only one listed as having achieved his third phase shift. A third-layer practitioner. The closest behind him was Adeya, who was at her second layer and on the cusp of the third. Zhao himself was still on the cusp of the second¡ªnone of the rooms he found so far had enough Firmament to push him into his second shift.


    There was something going on with Ethan and his Trial. They needed to get into contact with him. With his help, it was possible they had a chance¡ª


    Zhao paused, staring at the rankings.


    [1. Ethan Hill]


    [Practitioner Level: Third-Layer, Perfected. Cusp of Fourth.]


    [Practitioner Title: Heir of Anchors]


    "Cusp of fourth?" Zhao said, his jaw slack. Fourth wasn''t supposed to be possible. They suspected their Integrators were lying to them about it, of course, but¡ª "Wait, what does perfected mean? Is that a thing?"


    "We''ll have to ask him ourselves," Adeya said. "When we find him. Check the dungeon list."


    Zhao''s face paled when he did.


    [The Empty City] [Special] [Rank: Submerged (F)]


    "Submerged," Zhao said. "That is the term the Interface uses for imbuement... Have we encountered the Interface ranking things in such a way?"


    "Not even the Disconnected have heard of it," Adeya said. "I checked."


    "And you are sure he is in that dungeon?"


    "He''s the only one of us that would survive a dungeon of that difficulty at the moment," Adeya said. "And it was ranked S just a few days ago."


    "It went up," Zhao said numbly. It felt like his face was pale, not that he had a way to check. "Then... then we must talk to him as soon as we can. A blowback from a dungeon of that strength would wipe out hundreds of us. He cannot fail. He should not even try! But if he is in that dungeon..."


    "Then none of us can reach him," Adeya completed grimly. "No one we''re in contact with has unlocked the Empty City."


    "What do we even do?" Zhao fretted. "He can''t die. He''s our best chance against the Sunken King."


    "We''ll keep doing what we''ve been doing," Adeya told him. "Don''t complete your Trial. Try not to let anyone complete theirs. Keep getting stronger. The longer we hold the Sunken King back, the better."


    "So we wait," Zhao said. "That''s it?"


    "We grow," Adeya told him. "We make allies. We get stronger. We keep up. That''s how our Firmament grows, remember?"


    "Right." Zhao forced himself to calm down. "And... we have a chance. You''re sure?"


    Adeya smiled at him. He couldn''t see it, but he could feel the smile through the Interface. It was warm and beautiful. Or maybe he was imagining things. "I''m sure."


    "Because of your Skill?" he asked hopefully.


    "What else would it be?"


    Adeya disconnected before he could respond, but he could practically see her laughing at him.


    Zhao sighed.


    More waiting. He really hated waiting.


    He missed the sun.

 195 — Book 3, Chapter 54 — A Coming Collision

    There''s a bit of a problem. Not a huge one. Probably.


    My core isn''t recovering anywhere near quick enough to survive a trip into the Intermediary. Meditating helps, but the damage runs fairly deep¡ªI can''t just walk it off like I''d been hoping. All the improvements I''ve made so far is the only reason that dive into the past didn''t just tear me apart, apparently.


    "There is physical damage on top of spiritual damage," the Knight growls at me, annoyed. The Inspiration is awake again now¡ªprodding at my core in an attempt to use a skill reawakened it, it seems, and it doesn''t seem pleased by the state of things within my core.


    But then it sighs and speaks with a begrudging sort of acceptance that borders on admiration. "I would call it foolish, but... I do not think I would have done any different."


    "Glad I have your approval," I say dryly, unable to help myself. The Knight makes a sound that''s somewhere between a snarl and a scoff; it takes me a moment to realize that it''s laughing.


    "As you should be," it says once it''s finished, mirth still in its voice. "But there is little time for you to recover. What will you do now?"


    I frown slightly. There''s something it wants from me¡ªI can sense that the question is something of a test.


    "Depends," I say carefully. "What are my options?"


    The Knight grins. I can feel it, even if I can''t see it. "For most, it would require years of meditation and supplements," it tells me. "The strain you have placed on your core is significant. It is not merely from this event¡ªit is the culmination of all your actions until now. Shifting two layers at once, pushing your limits again and again, creating and using Submerged skills... You are teetering on an edge from which there may be no recovery."


    I stay silent. What the Knight describes sounds serious, but at the same time, it''s clearly building up to something.


    "There is a simple solution," it says. "Death. The body and the soul must be in balance; when the soul is out of balance, the body follows. But the reverse is also true: a perfectly healed body will help your soul recover.


    "For a Trialgoer in your position, recovery is simple. Expire as many times as it takes to heal your soul. Each death will reset your body, forcing your soul into balance. But it will take more than one. In your current state, I estimate..."


    The Knight examines my core critically. "Twenty deaths, perhaps."


    I grimace. It doesn''t sound like there are many downsides to this solution, besides the loop being reset, but I can''t say I''m keen on it. There''s something about the way the Knight says the words, too¡ªa little too smug, a little too knowing.


    A thought strikes me. "You said this is the simple solution. Is there another one?"


    The Knight''s grin grows wider and more ferocious. "One you may like," it says, almost purring out the words. "It is dangerous. Foolish, even, for anyone without your particular Talent and resources. It will be painful."


    "But?"


    "But," the Knight says, "it will make you stronger. You have perfected your third layer of Firmament. Your first two are strong, but they are not perfect. There are cracks. Small and nearly invisible, perhaps, but they are there. Normally, a practitioner cannot modify any layer of their Firmament after performing a phase shift. Phase shifts are permanent.


    "Sometimes, however," the Knight continues. I can tell it''s enjoying itself, though why it''s enjoying itself so much I can''t quite fathom. It seems to revel in the opportunity to tell me about ways to grow¡ªor maybe it just enjoys the process of growth, the feeling of its host gaining power. "When a core is strained to its utmost and survives without cracking, the layers peel apart."


    I feel it reach out and do... something. Whatever it does, it sends a wave of crippling pain through me. My vision goes briefly white, and I make a choked sound, gripping the log beside me so hard the wood cracks and splinters; nausea swims through my skull and threatens to make me empty my stomach. It takes me a moment to register Guard''s fans whirring with alarm, one hand on my shoulder and the other on my back, supporting me as I double over.


    "Are you alright?" he asks. "You did not try to..."


    "No," I say, shaking my head and trying to gather my bearings. "That was¡ªthat was something else. I''m fine. Thanks, Guard."


    Guard doesn''t seem entirely satisfied with that answer. He stays close to me, watching me sternly. "Be careful," he says.


    "I know."


    It takes me a moment to figure out what happened¡ªthat sudden wave of what felt like fire pouring through my nerves was the Knight flicking my second layer of Firmament. It''s making a point. The layers are distinct enough now that it can target one, distinct from all the others.


    "You did not need to do that," I say pointedly.


    "I did not," the Knight agrees, but it doesn''t apologize. "But you need to understand how difficult this process will be. It is not trivial. It is an opportunity."


    "How, exactly?" I try not to make my retort too annoyed.


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    "You cannot reconstruct a phase shift you have already performed, but when your layers are this distinct, you can... mold them. Add Firmament to them. Fill in the cracks." The Knight is silent for a moment. "You will need to be in an environment with strong Firmament. And you will need to maintain your focus through the process. Lose it, and you risk shattering the layer entirely."


    "So to do this," I say. "I have to maintain perfect focus while simultaneously causing myself debilitating pain?"


    "Yes."


    "And if I fail, it''ll shatter the layer?"


    "Yes."


    "And you believe it''s worth it?"


    "You face a dungeon with a rank of Submerged," the Knight says. "Even at the lowest possible rank of Submerged¡ªeven with a perfected third layer¡ªto face such danger without your fourth shift is tantamount to suicide. I do not believe it is worth it. I believe it will be necessary, lest the dungeon destroy you, your friends, and half the human Trialgoers with it."


    I wince. "You''re pouring it on a little thick."


    "I am telling you what I believe to be true," it says.


    And it is. This isn''t just a guess¡ªthe Knight knows, sure as anything, that if I don''t do this I''m not going to survive.


    "It never gets easier, does it?" I ask.


    "No," the Knight says. "And if it does, it would only be because of others that hold the burden instead. Given the choice, what would you do?"


    It takes me a moment to respond. "I would take the burden."


    The Knight smiles. "You hesitated."


    "Is that so bad?"


    "No." The Knight shakes its head. "To some, heroism is as easy as instinct. To others, it is a choice that must be made, over and over again. Neither is worse than the other. But you gave the question thought. You did not simply tell me that which you believed I wished to hear. This, more than anything else I have seen so far..."


    It pauses, and then to my surprise, it bows. Not physically, obviously, but I can feel it¡ªthe gesture of reverence and respect. "I am glad you are my host, Ethan Hill," it says.


    "I... thanks," I say, unsure how to respond to the sudden display. "And we''re partners. You''re part of the team too." I pause, and then add, a little more lightheartedly: "You''re going to have to tell me your backstory one day, you know."


    "One day," it agrees. "But not today."


    With that, I feel it slowly receding, its presence fading into nothing more than a warmth within my core. I''m almost tempted to ask for more, but it seems kind of done with talking for the day. Maybe for the week.


    So instead I lean back, letting out a sigh. He-Who-Guards reacts to the movement with a small beep of surprise. "You are done?" he asks. "I didn''t want to interrupt something important."


    "I was talking to the Knight Inspiration," I tell him. "And yeah, it''s gone back to... hibernating. Or whatever it does when we''re not actively talking. Long story short, apparently I can try to reinforce my core once we reach the Intermediary. It''s going to suck, but the Knight thinks we''re going to need that power."


    "You have not recovered," Guard observes with some uncertainty. "Are you sure you are ready to do this?"


    "I can only do this if I haven''t fully recovered," I say, wincing. "It''s basically now or never."


    Right on cue, Ahkelios returns carrying a massive armful of... moss, as far as I can tell. There are a few flowers sticking out of it, but more surprising to me is that I can sense a distinct flow of Firmament within. It''s nearly invisible, even with my Firmament sense.


    Actually, I think it''d be completely invisible if I were relying on my normal Firmament sense. I frown slightly¡ªa side effect of the Firmament strain, maybe? That particular ability supposedly emerged from some sort of imbalance within my core; if that imbalance was further exaggerated...


    Huh. Interesting.


    "I''m back!" Ahkelios declares. "What''s this about now or never?"


    "I have to reinforce my core," I say.


    "You have to sleep." Ahkelios dumps the moss onto the ground and begins shaping it into a makeshift bed. I''m actually impressed by how well this works¡ªhe uses his Firmament as a sort of scoop and threads it through the moss in a way not dissimilar to how the crows enhance their furniture. "And so do we!"


    "I do not need to sleep," Guard volunteers.


    "So do we," Ahkelios repeats, even more firmly. He glares at Guard, and there''s a beat of silence.


    "...I will make an attempt," Guard acquiesces.


    I snort. He''s not wrong, honestly. We''ve had a rough few days. It''s good to see him asserting himself, though. His next phase shift is going to be interesting.


    We''re all going to need something at the Intermediary. Hopefully, we''re strong enough to survive whatever Gheraa''s dungeon throws at us while we''re there.


    <hr>


    Gheraa frowned up at the pillar of Firmament reaching up through the sky. His clothes were in tatters¡ªboth the storm and the dangers in his own dungeon had made sure of that.


    He had to admit, of all the traps he''d been expecting, he hadn''t anticipated the one with all the hands coming out of the walls. Getting caught in that trap was just embarrassing. Arrows, at least, were dignified. But hands? Why would his dungeon even use hands as a trap?


    Anyway. All that aside, he''d made it to the eye of the storm and the root of the pillar. From where he stood, enormous tendrils of reality-rending soulrot reached up and clung to that pillar, wrapping around it in a vain attempt to strangle it.


    Gheraa wasn''t particularly interested in any of that.


    What he was interested in was the orb cradled within the branches of what looked like a miniature dead tree. It wasn''t really a dead tree, of course¡ªjust soulrot so deep that it looked like blackened wood.


    But the orb? That called to him. It radiated with potent secrecy.


    He reached out to touch it¡ª


    ¡ªand nearly sank to his knees as a multitude of visions forced their way into his mind. It was a chaotic mass of images he could barely make sense of, though he knew he''d put it together given enough time.


    He staggered to his feet. There was one thing that was clear in those visions. One name that repeated itself, over and over.


    The Sunken King is returned.


    Gheraa didn''t recognize the name, but something about it rang with a cold familiarity.


    He sat in the midst of the storm and began to dissect what he''d seen. If there was anything that needed a warning...


    Well. This had to be it.

 196 — Book 3, Chapter 55 — It Takes a Village

    Before we leave, we check in again with the Cliffside Crows. There''s a good chance this will be the last time we see any of them with their current set of memories, considering the dangers of the Intermediary. That we''ve escaped having to loop for as long as we have... well, it''s a miracle in and of itself.


    When we arrive, we find them waiting for us. Tarin, Mari, and Naru stand at the forefront of a large group of villagers, not all of whom I recognize. Virin and Rotar are there, though. The former is practically vibrating with excitement, and the latter looks... nervous.


    "Ethan!" Tarin squawks. He folds his wings in front of his chest. "Where you go? We looking for you."


    "We were training," I say, which is technically true.


    Just like that, everything is forgiven¡ªTarin''s expression brightens into a haughty kind of smug satisfaction. It almost makes me laugh. I''m definitely going to miss him. "Training good!" he says. "I forgive. Next time you just say you training. I send help."


    I decide not to tell him that I''m not sure he could''ve helped in this particular instance. It''ll only offend him.


    "Anyway," he continues. "We make gift for you. You leaving, yes?"


    A gift? I blink, feeling oddly touched. I would''ve expected the crows to have too much to contend with to worry about putting together some kind of farewell gift. "We''re headed to the Intermediary again," I say with a nod. "Need to go there to finish our training."


    "Then you take this," Tarin declares. He holds a wing out, and Virin carefully places a strange, ornately-carved box into it. It''s probably the fanciest item I''ve ever seen from the crows¡ªtheir crafting tends to favor function over form.


    "What is it?" I ask. Tarin opens the box in lieu of answering, and my breath catches in my throat.


    It''s some kind of imbuement stone. A strong one. I feel the weight of it almost as soon as the lid is opened like a yawning void suddenly opening up in my perception of Firmament¡ªwhatever this thing is, it absolutely devours Firmament. I could pour an entire river into it and not sate its hunger.


    Predictably, the Void Inspiration reacts to this. I haven''t heard from it in a while, but now it coils up within me, interested in this stone that appears to be yet another one of its siblings; I have to nudge it to calm down. I''m in no state to use Firmament, much less an Inspiration.


    "It stone," Tarin says proudly, which tells me... precisely nothing. Beside him, Naru lets out an aggrieved sigh.


    "It''s an imbuement we created for you," he tells me. "And by ''we'', I mean the whole village. You better be grateful, Trialgoer. That thing wasn''t easy to make."


    Tarin frowns a bit at this, snapping the box shut and turning to look at his son. "That not how you talk to friend," he says severely. He reaches up to smack Naru in the head, then apparently thinks the better of it¡ªjust before his wing makes contact, he aborts the action and turns it into an awkward-looking pat on the head.


    There''s a long silence where everyone just stares at the two of them. Naru looks a mixture of embarrassed and¡ªto my surprise¡ªgrateful.


    I think he recognizes that Tarin is... trying.


    "We owe you for what you''ve done for us," Naru says. This time, when he speaks, his voice is considerably softer. "Pretty soon you''re going to be doing things we won''t be able to help with anymore, so we thought we''d make one last thing you might be able to use."


    "I''ve been working with Virin to encode all my memories of the Fracture into an imbuement." Rotar picks up from there, stepping forward. "I figured out pretty quick that I''m probably not going to be able to work out everything before you leave, and if you reset anymore I''m going to lose all my remaining memories of the Fracture. So we thought if we could find a way to extract everything I know..."


    "It''s more than that," Naru says. "This village is the closest anyone lives to the Fracture. I grew up on stories about it. We have legends, myths, childhood fairytales¡ªthis village is probably the single biggest repository of knowledge there is on the Fracture."


    He hesitates, then sighs. "Tarin... my dad briefed me on what you''ve learned about the Fracture," he says. "About Hestia. If you''re going to find out what''s happening, you''ll need this. It has all the visions Rotar experienced, every scrap of knowledge Tarin can remember from the time he apparently fell in¡ª" Naru spares a moment to glare at Tarin when he says this, evidently annoyed at not being told about it. "¡ªand every single legend and tale we have about it."


    "I... thank you," I say. I have to kneel to take the box from Tarin, and I hold it with no small amount of reverence¡ªI can see that a lot was put into making this gift. From the looks of things, every villager among the Cliffside Crows contributed.


    I look up at them, scanning each of the crows one by one. "Is there something you''re not telling me?" I ask quietly.


    Because this is a lot of effort to put into a gift of knowledge. I understand it, to some degree. Rotar''s memories of the Fracture are fading. We don''t know what Tarin will be able to remember once time resets, now that he no longer has the shard.


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    But even still... this feels more like a goodbye than I''d like. They''re giving this to me in case something happens to them. In case a Tear rips through the crows and leaves nothing behind. If the worst happens, I''ll still have this¡ªa small piece of what remains. A fraction of their culture. A fragment of what was.


    Mari seems to know what I''m thinking. She''s surprisingly insightful. This version of her may not know me as well, but the smile she gives me is still warm and motherly.


    "You worry too much," she says. She taps a wing lightly on my forehead. "We give just in case. But we give so you know we with you. No matter where you go. Yes?"


    ...I like that framing of it a lot better. I smile at her, pushing myself back to my feet, and weigh the box in my hand. It''s pretty light, considering what it contains¡ªthe imbuement contained within is breathtakingly complex, and the quality of the stone used to hold it isn''t exactly low, either.


    It really is meant as a gift.


    "It hard to make!" Virin pipes up. "I use what you teach. And then I need invent five new things. And sacrifice many stones." He makes a face like he''s wrinkling a nose he doesn''t have. "You teach, I learn! But you learn too, yes? And then come back and teach me." He jabs a wing at the stone. "I not sacrifice so many stones again."


    I laugh at this. "I''ll do my best to figure out what you did, but no promises. I can tell how complicated this is."


    If anything, I might have underestimated Virin. He may have wanted my help researching his stones, but he knows his stuff with imbuements. If he was able to take the little I''ve told him and turn it into this...


    I need to remember to come back to him with any imbuement-related problems in the future. He might be a genius. For a moment, I consider what might happen if I introduce him to the kobold engineers back in Isthanok almost shudder at the thought¡ªI have no doubt they''d be able to create something monstrous.


    That might be something to keep in mind for the future, actually.


    "Thank you," I say again, holding the box close, feeling the weight of it in my hand. "All of you."


    And then I pause, a somewhat awkward question coming to mind. I clear my throat. "Though I should probably ask... how do I use this?"


    The way the crows look at each other tells me I probably won''t like the answer. I hide a bit of a fond smile and lean in to listen.


    <hr>


    The downside to whatever mysterious methods Virin used, it turns out, is that even the crows aren''t entirely sure. Virin knows for a fact that everything''s been encoded into the artifact, but the imbuement is advanced to a point where none of the crows can use it themselves¡ªnot even Naru.


    The understanding that we have, slowly pieced together from Virin''s expectations and some trial and error, is that the imbuement is a little like a miniaturized, Firmament-based computer. It contains everything the crows promised and more, but it takes a lot of Firmament to form a proper "query", and even more Firmament for it to return a response.


    I don''t mind. The meaning behind the gift matters a lot more to me, and while I can''t use it right now, I already know for a fact that it''ll be useful when the time comes. Whatever anomaly there is causing the Fracture to explode and annihilate the planet is still there, waiting for me to investigate.


    In the meantime? The crows have created what''s honestly a surprisingly useful training tool for Firmament control. The artifact''s ability to process enormous quantities of Firmament yet require precise control of it means that not a single one of us can access it the way we are. Guard doesn''t have the requisite control, despite his enormous reserves. Ahkelios doesn''t quite have the reserves to match his control, and even then he could use more of both.


    As for me, my core is still too strained for me to give it an attempt. I suspect I might have trouble with it even at my best, though. The complexity of the imbuement... It''s still beyond impressive to me that Virin was able to manage this, even with the entire village helping him.


    Tarin, of course, is absolutely delighted that it can double as a training tool. He makes us all promise to use it diligently and even requests that we come back every so often so he can "make everyone train with it".


    Judging by the look he gives the box after this discovery, I think he might actually slightly regret giving it to us, not that he tries to take it back or anything. He just really, really wants to train with it. I don''t think I''ve ever seen a giant crow look that much like a kicked puppy.


    We say our goodbyes. Tarin especially knows that he might not remember anything from this loop, and he doesn''t let me leave without giving me a firm hug and declaring, quite firmly, that he knows I''ll make him proud. It leaves a warm feeling in my chest.


    It doesn''t escape my notice that Naru''s watching us the whole time, either. This time, though, he doesn''t look jealous. He''s even wearing a small smile.


    "I''ll be heading back to Carusath," he tells me quietly once I''m done with Tarin. "I... need to fix things there. And I''ve heard reports of the Tears worsening."


    "Keep me updated," I say. I hesitate, unsure if I should add anything else¡ªbut then I do. "Let me know if anything goes wrong and you need help. It won''t be hard to reach me. You know where and when I show up."


    Naru shoots me a look that''s surprisingly grateful. He lifts a hand, and it takes me a moment to realize what he wants.


    I give him a fistbump. His side of it is a little harder than necessary, but it''s still surprisingly sincere.


    "Tarin''s not the type to say it out loud," Naru says, eyeing me. "But I know he thinks of you as an honorary son. I''d say that makes us brothers, but right now I still find it hard to stand you."


    I snort. He''s being honest, at least. There''s a warmth in his tone despite his words, so I reply with a simple, wry, "Likewise."


    Brothers, huh? The thought brings old memories back to the surface. I shake my head to push them away, watching as Naru makes his way back to Tarin and Mari''s hut¡ªpresumably to say goodbye to them before he heads back to Carusath.


    Meanwhile, Ahkelios, Guard and I have our own journey to make. I turn to them. They''ve been largely quiet through all of this, recognizing the goodbye for what it is.


    "Ready to get going?" I ask. Ahkelios gives me a thumbs up, and Guard gives me a solemn nod.


    We move on. The artifact the crows gave me is tucked away safely inside Ahkelios''s core using Soul Space. I can''t use the skill myself yet, but Ahkelios can.


    It''s good enough for now. Next stop: the Intermediary.


    I can''t help but worry about what we might find there. Despite the damage in my core, I can still feel the vaguest sense of something growing.


    Almost like a quiet Premonition of what might be coming.

 197 — Book 3, Chapter 56 — Wish You Were Here

    It takes us longer than I''d like to get to the Intermediary. Without full access to my skills¡ªat least insofar as it''d be incredibly unwise to use them¡ªI''m forced to rely on Guard and Ahkelios to get us there.


    In their defense, they''re still fast. Ahkelios maintains his access to my skills, but his Firmament stores aren''t the same as mine; he can''t cover quite the same amount of distance in a single Warpstep. Guard makes up for this, carrying us both when Ahkelios exhausts his Firmament, but his top speed while flying can''t quite match what''s offered by Interface skills.


    Still, it''s good enough that we don''t need to take many breaks. None of us can explain it, but all of us can feel it¡ªan odd sense of impending dread, like the slow descent of a guillotine on our necks. It''s made worse by the fact that we can''t explain why we feel it; all we know is that it''s there.


    It''s a relief when we make it to the Intermediary. The massive door still looms in the forest near Isthanok, identical to how it looked the first time we encountered it...


    ...Not entirely identical. I frown, stepping closer; the door is welded shut. It''s not an ordinary weld, either¡ªthere''s just smooth metal where the opening should have been, like the two sides of the door were joined with Firmament.


    "Someone closed it off," I mutter. It makes sense, in a way, considering how dangerous it is, but I can''t help but feel that the reason it was sealed is nothing so innocent. For one thing, Guard would know about it if it were.


    "I did not know of this," Guard says, confirming my fears. "I left instructions that the Intermediary was to be guarded and avoided. I do not see... give me a moment."


    His optic flickers for a split second¡ªI recognize it as him reaching out to communicate with his proxies. When he speaks again, there''s a clear frown in his voice.


    "The proxies I set to guard the Intermediary have vanished," he reports. "It was done in a way that would not alert me to their disappearance. That is concerning."


    "You mean someone hacked your network?" Ahkelios asks, worried. Guard shakes his head.


    "Not a hack. Better to call it an emulation. Someone was able to replicate the signals I use to communicate between proxies and emulate two complete, intact copies in this vicinity." Guard manages to sound mostly indifferent, but there''s a hint of irritation in his voice. "I have patched the problem, but the perpetrator remains at large."


    "I don''t think that''s our biggest worry at the moment, if the door is sealed," I say. There''s something tickling at the edges of my senses¡ªI focus on that sensation, trying to figure out what it is.


    It''s like there''s a barely-noticeable distortion in the middle of the clearing. I take a step toward it, reaching out slightly; my fingers brush the edges of it¡ª


    ¡ªFirmament.


    I''m not sure I would''ve sensed this had my core not been damaged. It''s incredibly subtle. There''s a working here etched into the natural flow of Firmament in the clearing¡ªan imbuement that''s somehow been written into the air itself. "Ahkelios," I say, stepping back. "I think there''s a portal here. Could you¡ª"


    "On it," Ahkelios says. He can''t sense the portal like I can, but he trusts me without question. I feel him reaching out with Firmament Control, feeding a thread of Firmament into what I perceive as the lock.


    Just like that, a portal slowly pulls open. It wavers in the air like it isn''t quite sure of itself, but it''s there, a tear in space-time that leads directly into the Intermediary. There''s a thin film preventing the dense Firmament on the other side from just pouring through¡ªlikely the reason it needed to be hidden in the first place.


    "I guess that''s our way in," I say, my brows furrowing as I stare at it. "Although this feels... a little too convenient, don''t you think?"


    "Just a little," Ahkelios says. He leans forward to examine the tear, then turns to shoot me a concerned look. "More importantly, are you sure you can withstand the pressure? You remember what happened last time we were here."


    "I''m sure." It''s probably more accurate to say that I have to, but saying that is only going to worry Ahkelios. Besides, I''m not lying¡ªI''m mostly certain I can handle whatever the Intermediary tries to throw at me in terms of Firmament pressure, even with the damage in my core.


    I''m more worried about the two of them, in all honesty. Ahkelios is still only a second-layer practitioner, and Guard isn''t even at his first; they''re both uniquely capable of surviving something like this and they''ve both been here before, but...


    I sigh. I''m probably being a bit of a hypocrite, as far as the worry goes. The reality is that there''s too much to worry about, too many things that can go wrong.


    We''ll have time to react. We''ll adapt, as we always have. I''ve got a contingency or two I can try in the worst-case scenario where the portal closes behind us and the pressure is too great¡ªmy core''s recovered enough that I should be able to pull off at least a Phaseslip. Combine that with an Anchor and it should be able to take us right out of the Intermediary.


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    Not that I want to rely on that. Just the thought of it gives me a headache. Hopefully it doesn''t come to that. We don''t have any protective suits, this time around¡ªwe''re going to rely entirely on the strength of our Firmament.


    My core is damaged, but it should be able to withstand the pressure of the Intermediary enough that I can use it to repair the base layers rather than just cracking. Ahkelios will need the pressure to push to his third shift. Guard has enough Firmament within him to counter the pressure of the Intermediary without collapsing.


    The only complicating factor is Gheraa''s death. His corpse is still in there, rotting away, bleeding into reality and creating a dungeon around it.


    The thought alone makes a low thrum of familiar anger coil within me¡ªfor the Integrators to do this to one of their own...


    But the anger is more than that, I realize. The anger comes from the fact that I considered Gheraa a friend.


    I didn''t trust him at first. I didn''t have many reasons to. But he''s proven himself time and time again, and he''s done it more than once. Without prompting. Without really being given a reason to.


    He''s under my protection as much as Ahkelios and Guard are, and if there''s even a shred of a chance that I can bring him back and undo what the Integrators did to him¡ªeven a shred of a chance I can give him the friendship and trust he might never have experienced, from what he''s told me¡ª


    I can feel the shape of my soul burning within me, eager for growth. Eager for the strength to prevent anything like this from happening ever again.


    No more waiting. I walk forward without stopping, feeling my ears pop as I pass through the portal. Ahkelios and Guard follow close behind.


    Even with that shield of emotion wrapped around me, I''m not fully prepared for the sheer weight that crushes down on me.


    I stagger moments after stepping through, my vision swimming. It''s only Guard reaching out to catch me that prevents me from collapsing entirely into the ground. The pressure manifests as an ache in my teeth and a throbbing in my skull, burning straight into my bones; I take a slow, steadying breath, gritting my teeth and forcing myself to focus.


    This Firmament will hurt me only if I allow it. I''m strong enough now to assert my own will over it¡ªto coax it into place, guide it into the miniscule cracks within the first, foundational layer of my core.


    It hurts. It feels like I''m performing surgery on myself, probably because that''s what this is, in literal terms. It feels like I have to hold my own soul open and carefully layer strips of Firmament into the raw flesh within. I''m hypersensitive to every shift in Firmament, every small change.


    It''s how I can feel Gheraa''s Firmament here. It''s dead and twisted and wrong, forced to turn into something it''s not. The thought sends a fresh wave of anger through me.


    Never again.


    Thick, syrupy layers of visibly red Firmament boils up off my skin, more like a liquid than the usual wispy form of its power. I use my anger like a shield against the pain. It''s been a long time since I''ve let myself feel that rage.


    I know now not to be dominated by it, not to let it control me. Out of control, my anger drives me to recklessness, but that doesn''t mean I shouldn''t feel it.


    I should. I''ve seen how many lives this has ruined. I''ve been exploring a planet trapped in a tortured loop of its own past. I''ve watched its people torn apart by the games of the powerful.


    I couldn''t save everyone in Isthanok. I couldn''t save Miktik. I could still save Gheraa, but not as I am.


    The heat of my anger seals the cracks. Fresh Firmament builds within that foundational layer, drawn in by my rage and shaped by the first truth I ever spoke:


    I''m whoever the fuck I want to be.


    And right now I want to be the person that ends this once and for all.


    I force myself to my feet. Every second Firmament pours into previously unseen cracks in that first layer of Firmament; every second those cracks seal shut, reforging that layer in adamantine will.


    Every second of it hurts more than anything I''ve experienced before, even in my time across the loops. It hurts worse than dragging the stump of my arm across the dirt. Worse than getting crushed, getting stabbed, getting torn apart.


    But not worse than the thought of failing. Not worse than the idea that I might not be strong enough.


    I keep going, sealing crack after crack.


    And as I do this, I push myself back upright. Force myself to take a slow, steadying breath.


    "Ethan?" Ahkelios asks. His voice is uncertain¡ªprobably because I''m quite literally dripping with Firmament. "Are you alright?"


    "Will be." My voice is ragged but sure. "Where are we headed?"


    "I sense a signal from the north. It is likely the part Miktik was suggesting we need," He-Who-Guards offers. He looks as concerned as Ahkelios is. "Ethan. Are you certain you can accompany us?"


    "Have to." I grit my teeth. There''s an argument for me to stay here, to focus on rebuilding those layers without moving, but this is a dungeon. It''s too dangerous a place for us to split up, and this one in particular has already been known to kill people even through the loop. "Can''t split


    This was where Miktik died, after all.


    "We could wait here together," Guard says. "Until you finish¡ª"


    I shake my head. "Dungeon," I say tersely. It''s hard to get the words out with half my mind focused on layering and sealing. "Dangerous to stay still, dangerous to move. Might as well move."


    To his credit, Guard doesn''t waste any more time. He gives me a sharp nod. "Then I will lead the way."


    As if to prove my point, a dozen hands burst out of the ground¡ªeach blue flecked with gold, the same Firmament stoneskin I remember Gheraa being made out of. Whatever remnant of him was controlling the place the last time we were here is gone now, it seems. The hands undulate, weaving across each other, charging straight toward us.


    "Those are clearly claws, Ethan!" Ahkelios yelps as he dives out of the way, dragging me with him. He''s listening in on my thoughts, apparently.


    "Same difference," I say. I ready myself.


    My core is damaged. Half my mind is occupied trying to keep my foundational layer stable as I feed Firmament into it and repair its cracks. I can''t use a single skill while I do this.


    But none of that means I''m weak.

 198 — Book 3, Chapter 57 — A Tale of Three Stars

    It took Gheraa a while to piece it all together. Part of the problem, he thought, was that there was a part of him that didn''t want to put it together. He understood now why the higher ranked Integrators kept it secret¡ªthere was something about the truth that was... uncomfortable, for lack of a better word. Trying to pry open this secret felt wrong.


    He kept going anyway. If there was any chance that this was going to be important, then Gheraa felt he owed it to the people of Earth to try.


    That didn''t mean he needed to stay still while doing it, though. The storm around him was beginning to worsen, a little like the dungeon had finally sensed and recognized the danger of his presence here; more concerning, however, was the fact that he could sense a disturbance elsewhere in the dungeon.


    That was strange. Gheraa hadn''t expected to be interrupted. There were few individuals on Hestia that could survive the pressure of the Intermediary combined with the soulrot of an Integrator''s death. The Hestian Trialgoers could, perhaps, but Gheraa couldn''t think of a reason they''d be interested in the Intermediary. Maybe if they were trying to repair it, but that would require them to have initiative.


    There was another possibility, of course.


    He''d been told that Ethan was trying to bring him back. If there was anyone strong enough to both survive the Intermediary and cause a disturbance he''d be able to sense, it was him.


    Gheraa pushed himself back to his feet and began to walk, trying not to look particularly hurried. As he did, he continued mulling over the fragmented images in his mind, slowly piecing together the core of the secret he''d found. The warning? He still wasn''t sure exactly what it was.


    Even when he''d mostly pieced it together, it felt more like a particularly horrifying children''s tale or a myth of creation than it did a forbidden secret locked within the Firmament of all Integrators. It was strange, to say the least.


    It went a little like this.


    <hr>


    A long, long time ago, when the galaxy was still being born, three beings of untold power began to shape it.


    One was a creature of imagination. She took that which existed only in the mind and made it real, though that could last only for a moment before it winked back into the ether. Idea to reality: she was a god of creation. In her realm, all things were possible, albeit ephemeral. To worship her was to guarantee a brief glimpse of perfection.


    One was a creature of change. Though he could not create, he could bend the path of things, alter their natures. His was a mind that could be wielded like a hammer; where he struck, he altered things permanently. The river of fate was but a thread he could bend to his whims. To worship him required work, for he did not grant things freely, but under him all things became possible. Empires were built and ruined in his name.


    The last was a creature of expansion. His presence was bound initially to a single idea and a single whim, but that whim spread rapidly, joining with everything it touched. His strength lay in sheer, unparalleled range¡ªthere was no corner of the galaxy that lay out of his sight. Artists and creators revered him, for it was under his guidance that their works were talked about and spread.


    Such was the way of things for an eternity and an eon.


    But it was not to last, for each of the three envisioned bigger and better things for the galaxy they called their own. Their power, they knew, would not be enough for any of their creations to withstand the might of the greater universe, let alone the planes above. There were threats out there that were beyond imagining even for them.


    But perhaps it did not need to stay that way forever.


    It rankled at Imagination above all the others. The idea that there might be forces out there that were beyond her? Absurd. There had to be a way to grow, she thought: a way to gather enough power to undermine the fabric of things. To overthrow the hierarchy wrought upon them.


    And if there wasn''t, she could make one. Was that not the very core of her being? Imagination and creation?


    Only she soon realized she could not do such a thing alone. Anything she created did not last¡ªno path to power would be sufficient with the mere extent of her abilities, mighty as they were. So she reached out to Change and spoke to him, a sensuous lilt in her voice.


    "I can make anything real," she said. "But only for a moment. My creations cannot last forever. But you, Change... your strength makes things permanent."


    Change eyed her with suspicion. They had not spoken much before now. There was an understanding between the three that they would not interfere with one another lest they upset the balance they had created.


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    "What would you have me do?" he asked, his tone guarded.


    Imagination wrapped herself around him, whispering a tantalizing scene. A fantasy, almost. She could create anything, and Change could render it permanent. Together, they could write new laws into being. They could carve a path into the universe, make it possible to grow beyond themselves. They could become the very terrors they feared.


    And Change, despite himself, found the idea more and more alluring as her whispers grew more insistent.


    So they worked together. They toiled for an eon, Change and Imagination entwined, his hammer to her nails.


    And yet their power, even together, was not enough.


    They saw this eventually, though not without the passage of another untold eon. Anything they created took too long to grow and expand into something powerful enough to be used¡ªit would be another eternity before even their best efforts rewarded them with even an iota of what they needed, and in that time, their enemies would grow ever greater.


    They needed a third. They needed Expansion.


    It was Imagination that approached him first, the same way she approached Change. She spoke her words of enticement, wrapped her ideas in delightful dance and fevered fantasy; she told him her dreams of a path through which they could all become more than they were.


    But Expansion shook his head. He had no interest in her wiles or the seductive future she painted; he knew the risks of what she proposed and the dangers of an imagination run amok. To upturn the status quo would bring unwanted attention upon them, he opined. Better to stay where they were, keep things nice and safe and steady.


    Imagination would not have this. She tried again and again, and when she failed, she turned to Change¡ªasked him to try in her place.


    And though reluctant, eventually, he did.


    Change went to Expansion and spoke of a future in which they were entwined, a future in which Expansion could do more than inspire the growth and spread of ideas. When Expansion and Change operated in tandem, they could remake entire solar empires; it was hardly the first time, and it would not be the last. He reminded Expansion of the ecstasy in their union, the power they wrought together.


    And it was here that Expansion finally relented.


    He joined the other two, and the three began to work in earnest, building a means through which they might gain enough power to wreak havoc to the system they were trapped within.


    This was not without its failures, of course. Such a system required experimentation. They failed more than once, left cities and empires dusted behind them as they iterated and improved¡ªbut at last, finally, they had something that worked.


    Then there was a betrayal.


    The specifics, alas, were muddied. Fragments of Firmament claimed that it was Change that wanted all that accumulated power for himself. Others said it was Imagination, stealing and hoarding secrets about the new form of power they were creating. Still others implied it was Expansion, whispering lies and untruths into the ears of anyone that would listen, ending the era of trust in the gods.


    The truth of it, at the end of the day, mattered less than the result:


    Change was imprisoned. After the battle was done, he was locked away in the center of the galaxy and used as fuel for the new form of power he''d helped create.


    But a power as great as that of Change could not truly be imprisoned. Limited as he was¡ªwith almost no reach, without the power to create, with even his biggest strength locked away to almost nothing¡ªthere was little he could do. Anything he tried would take centuries to culminate to any sort of fruition, and in that time both Expansion and Imagination would have long since left the galaxy.


    But Change was patient, and a revenge best served was one no one saw coming.


    So he bided his time. He made the small, miniscule changes he could from within his prison. He plotted and prepared. What he needed was for his changes to slowly accumulate, and accumulate they did¡ªenough to eventually birth an entire new species.


    A species nomadic in nature, destined to go on a galactic pilgrimage, empowering him whilst seeking the key that would unlock his prison.


    And in the meantime?


    Well. Even within his prison, he could benefit from the system they had created. He could gather his power and grow. From Shallow to Submerged, from Submerged to Sunken... Just as they''d predicted, the new system they''d created allowed them to move entire tiers beyond what they''d been able to do before.


    Such was the tale of the Sunken King.


    He would return. He would tear apart that which he helped create, consume it along with all that remained of the Founding Three and their legacy. If needed, he would swallow the galaxy whole¡ªthat would be enough to bring him to the depths of power needed to track down his so-called companions and get his answers. Enact his revenge.


    Even if they''d left, they wouldn''t be able to hide the trail of their power from him. It could be obfuscated, perhaps. Hidden. But that trail still glimmered in the annals of history, in the place he''d once been betrayed and locked away.


    After the conclusion of an experiment in a place that had once been called First Sky.


    <hr>


    Gheraa wasn''t sure what to make of the vision, in truth. A lot of what he''d seen felt like it was painted in metaphor, too abstract to be of any use¡ªthe broad strokes of what he''d seen were likely true, but it was vague enough that he couldn''t be sure.


    Though there were one or two truths in there that threatened to shake the foundation of everything he''d ever known, so it was possible he was just trying not to think too hard about it.


    The Integrators as an artificial race, created to free some being known as the Sunken King... except if the vision was right, then the Sunken King was either already back or in the process of returning. How long had they been Integrating and completing Trials? How many more needed to be completed before he was free?


    If he was free already, then surely far more would have changed¡ªand yet Gheraa couldn''t shake the dread that was beginning to settle over him like a shadow.


    Another disturbance shook the dungeon, and Gheraa broke into a run.

 199 — Book 3, Chapter 58 — Duality

    It''s not exactly easy to fight while layering threads of Firmament into my core, but it''s not impossible, either. I rely on Guard and Ahkelios for the bulk of it, thankful that the dungeon''s challenges are¡ªat least for the time being¡ªrestricted to something that isn''t particularly dangerous.


    Ahkelios''s hand tightens on my shoulder. I feel the telltale flare of Firmament as he activates Distorted Crux, wrapping us both in its power. There''s a distortion in the air as more of the dungeon''s claw-hands approach and struggle against the skill, slowing from their blistering speed into something more manageable.


    My movements are awkward, but I force myself to stagger to the side, taking Ahkelios with me. Before they can course-correct, I grab one of them by the wrist and step forward, yanking it hard to the left and shoving forward with my right arm.


    There''s an audible crack and then a snap as I rip solid Firmament apart. Ahkelios visibly winces at the sight. "Sometimes you scare me," he mutters, though his hand doesn''t leave my shoulder.


    "Ahkelios, your primary means of attack..." I groan a bit as the pain within my soul briefly intensifies; my vision goes white, and Ahkelios yanks me out of the way of an attack that would''ve skewered me through the eye. "...for most of the loops..."


    "Ethan, stop trying to be snarky while doing surgery on yourself!" Ahkelios snaps, exasperated. I respond by pulling him down just before another set of hands manages to grab him.


    "...has been drilling yourself through the brains of our enemies like a living bullet," I finish. I manage to seal another of the cracks within that first layer as I say this, too, though my voice trembles with the effort.


    Ahkelios groans. "Yeah, fair point," he concedes. I can''t tell if he''s just doing it so I don''t press the point, but he gives me an admonishing glare before I can respond. "Now focus," he says. It''s his turn again to haul me out of the way of one set of hands before they can tear through my stomach.


    This time, I return the favor by spinning him around behind me just before another would have cut through his skull. The blow glances off my forearms instead, cutting through my skin but leaving my bones entirely intact.


    Gah. It''s a nasty wound, but the pain is nothing compared to the soul-deep one still tearing through my core. It takes effort to balance the fight with the reinforcement¡ªI have to layer each thread of Firmament between every exchange while keeping in place everything I''ve managed so far.


    I''m making progress, I can tell, but that progress is slow.


    And so is our progress through the dungeon. He-Who-Guards leads the way, but the walls around us have grown into something of a maze; the signal he''s following is apparently distorted through the walls, and every time he arrives at a fork or an intersection he has to pause to identify which way to go.


    Unfortunately, every fork and intersection is also where the dungeon usually decides to send more of its hands after us. Kind of a miracle it hasn''t tried a different strategy yet, but right now I''ll take what miracles I can get.


    If I had to guess, the only reason this isn''t more difficult is because the dungeon itself still isn''t fully developed. It''s having to grow around the Intermediary, and the Intermediary is... fighting back, in a way. Trying to rebuild itself at the same time the dungeon is trying to grow.


    I force another thread of Firmament into the first layer of my core and grit my teeth against the pain that follows. The sooner I get this done, the faster we should be able to move through the dungeon.


    Every move I make is agonizing.


    I forge on.


    The banter with Ahkelios is a part of it, really. I wield my emotions like a shield against the pain. The anger helps, but where anger fails, there''s the joy in the friends I''ve found. Where joy fails, there''s the fear that what I am might not be enough. I''m not afraid to admit to that fear¡ªI have to acknowledge it to be able to set it aside.


    With every layer of Firmament I thread into my core, I make myself remember. Joy, anger, fear, regret, hope... the loops have carried me through a lot, but even with time itself as an ally, there''s too much at stake for me to lose.


    "Guard," I say. "You still have the signal?"


    "We are close," Guard agrees. He''s getting better at navigating the maze with every moment that passes¡ªwe stop for less time and move even faster at every intersection.


    "You know the way back, right?" Ahkelios asks nervously. His hand grips at my shoulder a little tighter. "Because I''m kind of lost, and Ethan definitely has no idea."


    I manage a scowl. "You don''t know that."


    "Focus on your thing," Ahkelios says, turning to glare at me. I just smirk at him, though I think my eyes are still hazy with pain¡ªrather than get more annoyed, Ahkelios''s expression actually softens a little, and I feel him adjust so I can lean my weight on him a little more.


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    It''s nice of him. The pain is admittedly still overwhelming, and the closer I get to finishing with the first layer, the worse that pain gets. It''s hard to keep track of how far along I am.


    "You are almost done reinforcing the first layer," the Knight interjects helpfully. It sounds impressed, if I''m reading it correctly. "In truth, you could move on to the second¡ª"


    "No," I respond mentally, shaking my head. "I need every advantage I can get."


    The Knight doesn''t exactly say anything in return, but I can feel approval radiating through our bond.


    I''m not sure how much longer we do this¡ªtime''s a hard thing to track when inside a dungeon, and doubly so when half my mind is occupied with the equivalent of a soul trance. All I know is that there''s a moment where my entire core shivers, followed by a sensation best described by the ringing of a bell coupled with being doused with ice-cold water.


    That''s the first layer.


    Something in my heart unclenches a little, though I''m still shaking from the effort of it all. The risk is far from over, and basic testing tells me I''m not quite able to use my skills yet, but getting this far tells me that this is possible. In spite of our circumstances, in spite of everything that''s happening, I''m halfway there.


    All I need to do is endure this one more time, fix up the second layer¡ª


    ¡ªit takes me a second to realize that the shaking I''m feeling isn''t coming from me. I glance up in alarm. Ahkelios and Guard have both stopped in their tracks. There''s nothing physically there, as far as I can tell, and yet...


    The maze around us is trembling, the walls groaning in protest. Something flares bright and sharp in my Firmament sense, a foreign intrusion that feels like it doesn''t belong. It takes me a moment to parse it.


    A threat, but not entirely of the dungeon. Like something''s taken control of part of the dungeon and turned it into something... else. Something broken and wrong. I can feel the dungeon try to fight back, but it''s no use¡ªthe spread is sharp and rapid, if thankfully limited. Whatever this is isn''t strong enough to burn further into the dungeon just yet.


    It''s a small comfort.


    The Interface flickers in front of me.


    [This may be the last time you hear from me. Know that I wish you the best, despite our differences. Good luck, O Heir Mine.]


    [New protocols downloaded.]


    [Warning! Unknown threat detected! Modified ANCHORED HERITAGE protocols initiating...]


    [Threat identified. Proceed with caution.]


    There''s a creature rising up from the floor of the dungeon. It''s tearing up the walls to do it¡ªdragging dungeon material into itself, growing larger with every moment that passes.


    More than that, though? It''s swallowing every drop of Firmament it can from the dungeon. Some of it is just the raw Firmament from the Intermediary, but a lot of it is from the dungeon itself¡ªthe building blocks of Gheraa''s soul burned into reality and now being... what, repurposed?


    It''s changing it, somehow. Altering that Firmament in some way that''s deeper and more fundamental than what I do when I convert Firmament for my own use. It takes me a second to understand, but the moment I do, something in me grows cold.


    Whatever this is, it''s taking Gheraa''s Firmament and corrupting it with some kind of viral Concept. I can feel his Firmament being forcibly twisted into something it was never meant to be, and worse, it''s being done in a way that might prevent me from untwisting it.


    This thing... there''s a chance this thing was designed specifically to stop me from bringing Gheraa back.


    Why here? Why now?


    The new protocol in the Interface seems to be a sort of identification function, but if I had to guess, its real purpose is to serve as a warning. The Trials themselves have always stuck to some twisted notion of fairness, but something''s been pushing at those boundaries. Making things more dangerous than the Trials would normally allow. There was everything that happened in the Empty City during the last Ritual stage, and now...


    Well, now there''s this. I stare up at the Interface label now hovering above the still-forming creature, giving it a name and a rank.


    [Hand of an Empty Throne (Corrupted) (Rank SSS)]


    "Uh," Ahkelios says. "You''re seeing that too, right?"


    "Do we fight?" Guard''s voice is steady. He doesn''t take his optic off the threat. I don''t respond for a moment, my mind racing as I try to figure out our options.


    If this thing wants to kill us, turning our backs on it is going to be deadly. I have no idea how this half-formed dungeon would interact with the loops. It''s ripping Firmament away from the dungeon at an alarming rate.


    Running isn''t an option.


    "We fight," I agree. "Don''t give it time to finish forming. Guard, start chaining it down. ''Kelios? Throw me."


    "Wha¡ª"


    "Throw me," I say. I don''t have the spare brainpower to spend on maneuvering or any available skills, but...


    At the end of the day, my Interface skills don''t define my ability to fight. They help, certainly, but I''ve been a fighter since before the Interface gave me anything. Things are different when it comes to the Trials, of course, but then I have a new advantage, don''t I?


    My body has changed. The Physical and Astral Pools have altered my ability to fight on a fundamental level¡ªgiven me raw abilities that no third-layer practitioner should have. And that''s not even accounting for the change to my bones that Kauku basically forced on me.


    Honestly, I''m not sure how human my body is anymore.


    But I know how human my spirit is.


    Ahkelios launches me toward the Hand like a spear. I keep one part of my brain focused on threading Firmament into the cracks of my second layer. The other greedily absorbs all the information it can about the fight, even as Guard begins to chain the Hand down and Ahkelios covers one of his arms in my Amplified Gauntlet.


    It hasn''t finished forming. The layers of Firmament on it are thick, but they''re solid. All that distortion on it makes it easier to grab, easier to pull, easier to separate false skin from mimicked bone.


    So that''s what I do.


    The moment I make contact, I begin to tear through.

 200 — Book 3, Chapter 59 — Missed Opportunities

    Rhythm. It''s all about the rhythm.


    It takes me a while to realize it. I don''t know how long I try to fight while just bearing the pain of my cracked foundations, holding them together with sheer willpower while I stumble out of a blow or try to tear my way through another part of the Hand. The problem is that it''s regenerating almost as fast as we can do damage to it¡ªeven with all the power Guard and Ahkelios has gained, we don''t have enough. Not to kill something of this magnitude and power.


    It''s like the Seedmother fight, almost, except Ahkelios doesn''t have the Firmament to pull off the strategy we used in that fight. That means we''re locked in a stalemate, and that stalemate means we aren''t making progress. Even my progress with the second layer has trickled down to almost nothing.


    But there''s a rhythm to the fight. A push and pull, an ebb and flow. I''m not sure it''s something I would''ve been able to sense if not for the enhanced sensitivity I have to Firmament, but even the environment around us is reacting to this rhythm. All the ambient power around us shifts and pulses in response to every move in the fight, practically in time to what we''re doing...


    ...sometimes even before we do it.


    Is that how Premonition works? I''d assumed it had something to do with Temporal Firmament, but maybe that''s not what it is. Maybe it''s interacting with this background Firmament somehow, detecting a shift in the fight before it happens. The more I watch, the more I see the pattern, and the more I become convinced of one thing.


    We aren''t going to win as we are.


    Something needs to change. Guard needs to complete his first shift. Ahkelios needs to complete his second. I need to finish reinforcing my fundamental layers so I have access to my Interface skills again. We need something capable of completely altering the pattern and changing the flow of the fight.


    Which means I''m going to have to take a risk.


    I''m reasonably sure I can handle it. The thing about this rhythm is that I can work my core reinforcement into it¡ªmatch it to the world around me. If I follow the pattern of the fight, draw Firmament with every pull and thread Firmament it with every push¡ªit hurts a little less, somehow. Like I''m going with the flow of the world instead of fighting against it with every breath.


    It doesn''t eliminate the pain, of course, but... I test it out anyway. I draw a deep, ragged breath¡ªfeel Firmament flow into me, circling around my core¡ªand follow up with an exhale and a right hook into the Hand. I make my Firmament follow the movement, thread it into a tiny gap at the exact same instant the punch makes contact.


    It feels right. I breathe a little easier, find my thoughts a little more centered.


    All I have to do is follow the rhythm of the fight. I''m trying to do two things at once, but what I need to do is make them both the same thing.


    Dodge to the side to evade a swipe from the Hand. Pull Firmament with me in the same movement, feel it fill my core with golden power. Dodge again¡ªa little like holding my breath¡ªand then launch myself forward, cracking a bone with the force of my punch. Thread the Firmament into the next crack, feel myself become a little more whole...


    I can do this.


    "Guard," I say. "Go find the piece you need. Finish the first shift if you can. ''Kelios? Go with him, find somewhere safe, and finish your third shift."


    "What?" Ahkelios turns to stare at me and nearly gets knocked off his feet for it; Guard drags him out of the way just in time, blasters firing at full throttle. "Ethan, you can''t beat this thing alone right now, you can''t even¡ª"


    "Don''t need to beat it," I grunt. "Just need to hold it off. We''ll be stuck in a stalemate otherwise. Go. And do it fast. I''m going to need you guys to finish this."


    "But¡ª" Ahkelios begins to protest. It doesn''t matter, though. Guard hasn''t let go of him, and unlike Ahkelios, he doesn''t waste time arguing. He just leaps again, dragging the hybrid mantid with him.


    They disappear with a startled yelp.


    I shut down everything that''s not focused on the fight and on maintaining the repairs in my core. I hone in on the rhythm I''m seeing. On the push and pull of Firmament in the background.


    "Well?" I say. "Let''s dance."


    The Hand roars, and the fight resumes.


    <hr>


    "Are you sure we should''ve left him there?" Ahkelios fretted. "What if¡ª"


    "He is stubborn," He-Who-Guards said. "Arguing would have only caused us to waste time. We must hurry."


    Ahkelios sighed. "I thought you were supposed to be the overprotective one."


    "It... has been a problem, I admit," Guard said, not without a little humor in his voice. He scanned the maze around them once, then dove again in the direction of the signal he was detecting; they were only minutes away, if that. "But I have learned to trust in the two of you. Have you not learned the same?"


    "I have!" Ahkelios protested. "It''s just... Everything feels different now. It''s¡ªit was sort of comforting just being the sidekick, you know? Now I''m bigger, and I can do more, and I feel more..."


    "Responsible?"


    "Yeah," Ahkelios said. "I feel like I should be doing more."


    "I feel that way often," Guard said. His sensors detected a change in the path ahead, and he shifted directions, taking Ahkelios with him. "Especially when we first began fighting together. Your tactics are rather concerning."


    "Comes with fighting in a loop," Ahkelios said, not denying it.


    "I have the impulse often," Guard said. "To try to interfere or redirect. But was it not you that told me to allow Ethan to do his work, back when he was performing his procedure on our avian allies?"


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    "Throwing my own words back at me, are you?" Ahkelios chuckled. "Don''t interrupt him when he''s focused. I remember. You''re right, I just... don''t like leaving him behind."


    "Then we must return quickly," Guard said. He turned a final corner. "We are here."


    In front of them was... there was no polite way to describe it other than as a "pile of garbage'', perhaps. No surprise Miktik hadn''t been able to find the chip if it was buried so deep within a random pile of tech within the Intermediary¡ªhad he not been attuned to filter out signals like these, he wouldn''t have been able to find it himself. As it was, though, Guard was able to pick out the exact origin point and begin digging.


    Ahkelios, meanwhile, sat in a corner of the little clearing and took a deep breath. Guard felt the Firmament around him beginning to coalesce and nodded to himself.


    Despite his words, he was worried. His every instinct demanded that they return and help Ethan with the fight. But the human was right¡ªevery analysis he''d run said the same thing. They were in a stalemate, and without something changing, they wouldn''t win.


    So he had to do this, and he had to do this quickly.


    Of course, he''d never succeeded before, and the only reason his core daemon had even spoken to him last time was because of Ethan''s presence. There was every chance the phase shift wouldn''t go as smoothly as he hoped. But what choice did he have?


    His friends were counting on him.


    His fingers closed around the device that was emitting the signal, and he pulled it free. It resembled a syringe, oddly enough. One with a trigger mechanism and a small chip embedded within it. Instructions filtered through, encoded within the signal. All he had to do was integrate the chip.


    Guard aimed it at the back of his neck where the AI module was located.


    This... wasn''t the best of plans, perhaps. There were a number of things that could go wrong with inserting some unknown chip into his own systems. But he didn''t have time to take the chip back to Isthanok for analysis, and more to the point...


    He-Who-Guards thought it was about time he trusted himself. He knew who he was now¡ªall that was left was to prove it.


    He pulled the trigger.


    <hr>


    Separation.


    Where there was one being, there were now two. He-Who-Guards stood in front of another mechanical body that looked almost identical to his own¡ªa little more feminine, perhaps. An aesthetic choice by its owner. The chip integration had been so instantaneous it took him a second to parse what was even happening; there was a moment where he almost thought that an entire second body had been created out of nothing, but that wasn''t quite the case.


    He was back inside his core, caught once more on the verge of his first phase shift. Except he hadn''t been the one to initiate it. This was...


    "I''m Aris," the AI core supplied. There was something carefully neutral in her tone¡ªshe watched him with a wary optic.


    She didn''t trust him, then. Guard thought his feelings might have been hurt, but in truth, he understood. The relationship they shared was a complicated one. Before he''d been cured¡ªback when he''d been nothing more than a puppet under Whisper''s control¡ªhe''d needed Aris''s capabilities to be able to properly function. She''d helped him think his thoughts, for lack of a better way to put it.


    It meant she''d never had time for any of her own. Guard hadn''t even known she was capable of it until the revelation from his core.


    "You know me already," Guard said. "But if a formal introduction is in order, I am He-Who-Guards."


    Aris nodded, then seemed to hesitate. "I''ve... spent enough time in your mind that I can guess," she said. "But I have to ask anyway. Why did you free me? You could have kept me the way I was. A semi-intelligent, autonomous assistant."


    "Not while knowing you could be more," Guard said. "And certainly not while knowing what Miktik wanted of you."


    "Miktik." Aris''s optic flashed a brief, sorrowful blue¡ªshe was more expressive than he was, Guard noted. "My mother."


    "You remember her?"


    "I do," Aris said. "Precepts like me develop in two stages¡ªformative and coalesced. We aren''t meant to be kept in our formative stage for so long, but clearly Whisper had her own ideas."


    "You aren''t just one of Miktik''s inventions," Guard said.


    "I am and I''m not." Aris shook her head. "She made some modifications. Precepts are normally bound to the Integrators or uploaded into the Interface¡ªshe needed to make changes to make sure I could be my own being. But before she could find that quantum chip you just integrated, Whisper stole me and bound my core to your body."


    "I see." Guard frowned¡ªas best as he was able, anyway. "I am sorry."


    "Are you?" Aris asked. She curled up on the ground, legs drawn up to her chest, optic staring off into the distance. "You needed to do this to finish your phase shift. Did you free me because you wanted to, or did you do it because you needed to?"


    Ah. That explained why she''d asked her question. Guard hesitated before he answered, not because he didn''t know the answer, but because...


    Well, because he was starting to understand.


    Aris was scared.


    "It... must be difficult," Guard said, "to be born in circumstances such as these." He sat himself down beside her¡ªneither too close nor too far, lending her what support he could without getting into her space.


    Aris was silent. She didn''t agree with his words, but nor did she refute them. She didn''t try to push him away.


    "It is true that I need power," Guard said. He thought he could see it better now. She was trying to hide her fear, but it was there, just beneath the surface. "And that need led me down this path. But I would have sought this regardless, had I known it was needed."


    Aris looked down. "I can''t know that for sure," she said quietly. "I know that''s stupid. I''ve shared your mind, sort of. You were pretty damaged, but I still... I think I know the kind of person you are. It''s just..."


    She sighed and hugged her legs to herself. The next words were spoken like a confession. "I always thought it would be Miktik greeting me when I came into being," she said. "I want my mom, and she''s gone. Forget goodbye, I... I never even got to say hello."


    It was Guard''s turn to fall silent. He said nothing for a long moment, aware both that time was ticking and even more aware of the importance of this moment.


    Before him was a frightened... perhaps child wasn''t the right word, but she reminded him of one. She sat in front of him, alone and afraid, within the vast expanse of his soul¡ªa soul that had been trying to coalesce into its first phase for a long, long time. A soul that demanded from him an answer.


    Who was he?


    He was He-Who-Guards, but that was only a name.


    Right now, there was someone in front of him that wanted more than anything to feel safe. Alone, his options would have been limited. But he wasn''t alone, was he?


    Deep within Guard''s soul, a drop of pure, invisible Firmament trembled. Two glittering flames danced around it in orbit, the final remnants of his own parents and the hopes they held for him.


    Guard held out a hand to Aris. "Then let us make sure you get your chance," he said. He knew Ethan now. He trusted that the human would''ve found a way to get a message back from Miktik to Aris, and even if he hadn''t, he trusted that they''d find a way to do it together.


    I am not a guard. I am a protector. And I do not act alone.


    That was his answer.


    Guard had thought for the longest time that this was a future that would never be open to him. It was, by the metrics of everything he''d ever known, an impossibility: someone born with a soul like his was meant to burn bright and fast, but not for long.


    But impossible was not a word that Ethan Hill knew, and He-Who-Guards was starting to understand what that really meant. More than that, even.


    He was starting to understand how to make it his own.


    The two flames flickered with something like pride. They fell into that drop of pure Firmament, refining it, burning with it until it became something solid and real. The instant it did, the change rippled out through Guard''s soul, a pure refinement of who he was ringing out into existence.


    And just like that, a first-layer core burned bright within him.

 201 — Book 3, Chapter 60 — Overtime

    Gheraa stared at the destruction before him.


    There was a whole section of the dungeon that was just... obliterated. He could feel it like a physical pain in his chest. Which was unusual and deeply unpleasant in and of itself, but not quite as unusual or as unpleasant as the hands he saw dragging themselves through the rubble.


    His hands.


    Well, sort of. They were clearly meant to be his hands¡ªthey had the same pattern of golden Firmament sealed into the back, even if it was kind of an ugly rendition of that pattern.


    Except his hands didn''t look like that. He''d put some real work into his hands! This was just a mockery of all the work he''d put into sculpting them. Claws instead of fingers, digging into the walls and floors with all the elegance of the inept supervisor he''d been forced to work under as an Integrator.


    They were making an absolute wreck out of what remained of his soul, too. That was probably the bigger problem here. He was a paradox-existence pulled out of time by the living embodiment of Hestia herself, but that paradox rested on Ethan bringing him back via his dungeon. If the dungeon was destroyed, he''d fade away with it.


    Even now, he could feel the damage these things were doing. It wasn''t significant¡ªnot yet¡ªbut if he allowed these things to run rampant...


    Gheraa let out an aggravated sigh. He was going to have to take care of this infestation, wasn''t he? That was annoying. He''d been looking forward to seeing Ethan again, and now it turned out the disturbance he''d sensed was just a bunch of corrupted hands.


    It was worrying, too, because outside interference with a dungeon shouldn''t have been possible. The Interface had protections around that kind of thing. His dungeon might not have fully formed yet, but this looked like an intrusion from outside the Trial.


    More evidence of this Sunken King. That feeling of dread was beginning to grow. Gheraa didn''t particularly like it.


    Hopefully this wouldn''t take too long. They didn''t seem to be exceptionally powerful, at least¡ªthey were about Rank A or so by Interface standards, if he had to guess. Even weakened as he was, they wouldn''t pose a problem for him.


    Unless there was a boss of some kind. He frowned at the thought. That was how the Interface tended to do things, wasn''t it? But he couldn''t sense any particularly strong monsters in front of him...


    Elsewhere in the dungeon, perhaps. This wasn''t the only disturbance he sensed. Gheraa hummed, trying to cheer himself up. Maybe one of those would be Ethan?


    In all fairness, Gheraa thought, a little exercise before meeting up with the human wouldn''t be the worst idea. It''d be their first real meeting, and it wouldn''t do to embarrass himself. And if there was a boss, he could show up at the last minute and rescue him, like one of those Earth shows he''d watched during pre-Integration.


    Alright. He was feeling better. There was nothing Gheraa liked more than the chance to show off. He grinned, cracking his neck.


    "Alright, then," he said. "Time to throw some hands!"


    <hr>


    Rhythm. I have to follow the rhythm.


    It''s getting harder. I''ve narrowed my focus until there''s nothing left but me and the Hand¡ªdodging, moving, twisting, dancing around one another. I''m doing what damage I can, but the reality is that attacking it is mostly pointless. It doesn''t really even slow down to heal.


    No. Right now, it''s more important that I keep it distracted and try to minimize the damage it does to everything around me. That, at least, isn''t difficult¡ªit seems to have a particular vendetta for me. I don''t think it even tried to follow Guard and Ahkelios when they left.


    Even with that advantage, though, I worry. The more damage it does, the more of the dungeon it consumes. It shouldn''t be anywhere close to doing enough damage to affect Gheraa''s resurrection, but that doesn''t change the fact that it''s trying. It doesn''t change the fact that every time it strikes a piece of the dungeon, my odds of bringing back my friend grow a little worse.


    It doesn''t change the fact that it might not be alone.


    I try not to think about that part. If I had the concentration to spare, I might have been able to expand the range of my Firmament sense to detect any other disturbances within the dungeon¡ªI''m almost certain that some of the flickers I see in the pattern might be from something and someone else.


    Problem is, I don''t have time to analyze it. It takes everything I have to keep a mental grip on the fight and on the flow of Firmament around me, and that''s something I have to do without losing track of the repairs on the second layer of my core.


    I duck beneath one blow, dodge past another, then sense a twisted burst of Firmament that I only barely manage to leap past. Some kind of skill? There''s a hissing, burbling sort of sound as it burns into the walls of the dungeon, but I can''t spare the focus to look behind.


    The Knight is doing its best to help, at least, but even then there''s only so much it can do. A full transformation with my core still under repair would undo all my progress and might permanently ruin my ability to use Firmament.


    So I keep moving. I use the ruined environment to my advantage, hiding behind and between chunks of rubble, keeping the Hand in the center of its own destruction as much as I can.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    I''m lucky it''s not more intelligent. If it were, it might have figured me out¡ªrealized that I''m stalling. Instead, it just roars at me and keeps going.


    I smile a grim smile.


    Hopefully Guard and Ahkelios won''t be much longer. In the meantime, I keep layering those threads of Firmament into the second layer of my core, ignoring the burning pain it ignites with every sealed crack.


    Almost done. Just a little more before I can fight with everything I have.


    <hr>


    Ahkelios felt his core tremble. He sat at the precipice of the third layer¡ªthe Firmament in the Intermediary was suffocating, but he''d drawn it in and held it until he was full to bursting. Now all he needed was a moment to sit...


    ...and he found himself in his core once more, a question burning at the forefront of his mind.


    What is your truth?


    He was a second-layer practitioner. He''d answered the questions posed to him by both the first and the second layer¡ªdefined them according to who he was and who he wanted to be. Exactly like he was supposed to.


    There was just one problem with that.


    Ahkelios had changed.


    When he''d given his answers for those initial phase shifts, things had been different. At the time, he''d been overwhelmed by everything he needed to do¡ªtrapped in an endlessly repeating world with increasingly powerful monsters that tore him apart when he tried to fight them. When he was finally given the opportunity to grow, he''d cared only about survival. About becoming the person he thought he needed to be to pass his Trial.


    I am a wielder of the Sword. I will become that which can cut through anything.


    They felt right at the time, and they''d certainly lent him power, but they didn''t feel right anymore.


    Which meant Ahkelios had a problem. Those answers were embedded thoroughly within the first and second layers of his core; he couldn''t change them now, no matter how much he might have wanted to. Any answers given during a phase shift became a permanent part of who you were.


    Even if he was more than that now. Even if he wanted to be more than a blade, more than a force to be wielded.


    This moment¡ªthis third phase shift¡ªit would be his final chance to refine who he was.


    He needed a Truth that did more than represent who he was. It needed to represent everything he could be and everything he wanted to be. A Truth was the final element that could impact the answers he''d already given. It was the vehicle through which those answers were interpreted, after all. If he chose right, if he chose well...


    His Truth would be the reason he wielded his Sword. It would define what it meant to cut.


    Ahkelios couldn''t change the answers he''d given, but he could choose what those answers meant.


    A Truth like Ethan''s would have made it easy. "Change." It was the sort of Truth that could recontextualize and redefine by default. Try as he might, though, Ahkelios couldn''t resonate quite as deeply with the concept. Ethan may have been the closest friend he''d ever had, but he wasn''t driven to change things the way he was.


    More to the point, Ahkelios suspected that there were very few individuals out there with one-word Truths. So that was out of the question.


    Ahkelios felt a lance of pain thread through his core and winced.


    Time was ticking down, even now. He didn''t have an infinite amount of time to find an answer, not only because Ethan was counting on him but because of the nature of the third shift. Firmament was flooding into him, his core was straining, and it demanded an answer. If he let this keep going without providing one...


    Ahkelios took a deep breath.


    It didn''t change anything. He couldn''t give an answer that was less than perfect even if he wanted to¡ªwhatever Truth he chose needed to resonate with his core enough to cause a coalescence. The third shift wouldn''t work without an answer he believed in, completely and utterly.


    And although he''d had time to think, he still wasn''t sure what that answer was.


    Something about art and beauty might have been right a long, long time ago. Back when he''d been a scientist and an artist and life had been all about taking what he learned and putting it to canvas. The memories were precious to him still, and he hoped his home and his paintings still stood, but...


    Those things didn''t represent him. Not anymore. It wasn''t that it mattered to him any less¡ªlearning to see the inherent beauty in the world again had been an integral part in building his new understanding of himself.


    It just wasn''t the whole picture.


    Ahkelios thought. He felt the strain grow, felt the tiniest of cracks begin to form. Pain began to radiate from his chest. Ahkelios felt it, but it was nothing in comparison to¡ª


    ¡ªto what Zhir had experienced.


    Something within him sparked at that. A memory of his encounter with Zhir and the one factor that had sealed his victory over his more nihilistic counterpart. They both missed their home, but Ahkelios was the one between the two of them that remembered why that still mattered.


    Old memories surfaced. Memories of exploring crystalline mountains, glowing oceans, moving forests. Memories of leaving small pieces of his home behind and finding small pieces left behind by others, piecing together a history of places he''d never seen and people''s he''d never met.


    New memories surfaced, too. Exploring Hestia with Ethan and now Guard¡ªlearning to again feel the wonder that had once been practically bursting out of him. The Cliffside Crows, the shard-citadels of Istahnok, the crater that was Carusath.


    "I want to see it all," Ahkelios said. It felt right to say it out loud, even if there was no one here to hear him; he was within the confines of his own core, after all. "And I don''t just want to explore. I want to see what''s underneath."


    Something in his soul rang with those words, but he wasn''t done.


    Once upon a time, he''d relied on his eye to find the beauty in things. He saw so many colors that no one else could see, and when that was taken away from him... even with all the ways in which he''d changed, he''d thought it was over. It was the catalyst that made him give up on his Trial and on the loops.


    "Everything has a story," he said, more to himself than to anyone else. "Every home, every landmark, every person. That''s my Truth, isn''t it? That no matter the person or place or thing, there''s something that lies beneath. Something that matters."


    His soul rang again, solidifying. Firmament drew into his core, wrapping around itself over and over, coalescing.


    "My Truth is the heart that lies beneath," Ahkelios said quietly.


    A sword could be wielded to protect a heart. It could be used to pierce it, if need be. And Ahkelios did not mind if he was the blade that cut to the truth of things, that unveiled the beauty or the horror that lay within.


    He was still a wielder of the Sword, but now that Sword had meaning.


    Ahkelios stood, opening his eyes back within the reality of the Intermediary. Reddish-gold Firmament bled away from him as he did, and he flexed his fingers, marveling at the ease with which the movement came. His body felt... more his own, somehow.


    Guard looked at him. The automaton was practically bleeding raw Firmament, pulses of pure energy reverberating off of him. He''d completed his shift too, then.


    "Let''s go," Ahkelios said. Guard nodded at him.


    They went.

 202 — Book 3, Chapter 61 — Changed

    I sense them before I see them.


    The pattern in the Firmament around me changes suddenly, and just like that, the rhythm of the battle is different. Even before Ahkelios''s voice reaches me, I can feel the tide of Firmament moving in a new direction¡ªthe pulse of action and reaction turned on the Hand. I''m sure it can tell that something''s wrong, too, because it swivels toward my friends with what I can only describe as alarm. Splayed fingers and all. It''s almost impressive how expressive it is, considering it''s quite literally just a hand.


    "Ethan!" Ahkelios calls out as soon as he''s in range. His voice echoes across the ruined hallways of the dungeon. "You better still be alive!"


    "You''d know if I was dead!" I shout back.


    The back-and-forth is mostly a distraction. The noise gives me a moment of reprieve¡ªif nothing else, it''s apparently enough for the Hand to decide that the freshly-empowered Firmament signatures are more of a threat than I am. I feel it gathering power for an attack, Concept-twisted energy gathering within a finger...


    And then it points. A simple gesture.


    The skill that erupts from the tip of that finger? Not so much.


    A pitch-black beam of nothing streaks through the air with a ear-rending scream¡ªthe sound is loud enough to make me flinch backward, and I''m not even particularly close to it. For a moment, I''m worried about Ahkelios. A skill imbued with a Concept isn''t exactly trivial to block.


    Turns out I didn''t need to worry.


    Ahkelios pulls out what I can only assume is a piece of junk he found within the Intermediary. It looks like a jagged piece of metal, rusted with age. Then he uses Sword Infusion, and in the next instant, it''s a bright-orange greatsword practically bursting with Firmament¡ªimbued with the Concept of the Sword, reinforced with his Truth, and empowered by an Inspiration.


    He cuts¡ª


    <hr>


    Whatever Ahkelios did, it''s strong enough that just watching him almost disrupts my focus. It''s like his strike briefly embedded itself into reality. It''s not quite at the strength or degree of the Submerged skills I''ve used before, but it''s close.


    Close enough that whatever skill the Hand is using can''t stand up to it. The beam splits into two, pure energy carved apart like a physical object and crashing into the walls of the dungeon instead. Ahkelios and Guard, meanwhile, stand untouched in the middle.


    I watch as stone begins to boil and dissolve where the beam struck and wince. I''m pretty sure the Hand tried to use that exact skill on me more than once while we were fighting¡ªit''s a good thing I was able to dodge them, because that does not look pleasant. It explains why half the rubble around me looks like it''s melted, at least.


    He-Who-Guards flies to my side as Ahkelios distracts the Hand. "Ethan," he says, optic scanning me briefly. "You are uninjured?"


    "Just bruised." I rub at my shoulder, feeling dull pain radiate through one of the bruises in question. It''s nowhere near as bad as the streaks of pain still lancing through my soul, so I haven''t paid much attention to it. "I''m going to need to finish what I''m doing so I can fight. Can you and Ahkelios keep it distracted?"


    Guard''s fans whir as he looks up at the Hand. I can practically hear him running the simulations. "Yes," he answers after a split second. There''s a confidence in his voice that surprises me. "But you must be quick about it. It is still getting stronger."


    I frown, glancing at the Hand. It''s subtle, but...


    "Of course it is," I mutter.


    If nothing else, whatever''s empowering the Hand is clearly limited¡ªI can feel some kind of influence reaching into the dungeon and trying to infect more of its Firmament, but it''s being held back. There''s an upper limit on how much the Hand is able to convert at a time, and with so much of the area around us already destroyed...


    "I''ll only need a few minutes," I say. "It''s trying to absorb the dungeon, so try to minimize the damage it''s doing. Keep it in the middle of the destroyed area. Should slow down the empowering process."


    Guard nods. "Understood," he says. He flicks his wrists¡ª


    ¡ªmy eyes widen slightly.


    Thick, heavy chains thud into the ground with enough force to crack it. Guard''s always had an incredible amount of Firmament, but now that it''s refined, it''s gained a level of density and reality that''s far beyond anything he could produce before.


    Even just at the first layer, his output compares to some of the greatest sources of Firmament I''ve seen on Hestia. Guard seems to notice me staring¡ªsome of the panels on his head twitch slightly, as if pleased. Or maybe he''s smirking.


    Either way, he shoots off toward the Hand in the next instant, throwing those chains over and between its fingers to shackle and slow it down; in the meantime, Ahkelios harasses it with flashes of those reality-rending cuts, slicing off large chunks of Firmament-flesh.


    If the Hand were any weaker, it would already be dead... but even now, it''s healing.


    Time to do my part.


    The second layer of my core is almost fully repaired. I can feel how many cracks are left, even¡ªthere are no more than three hair-thin fractures waiting to be filled with Firmament. I take a portion of the dense storm of Firmament surrounding me, force it down into something needle-thin, and feed it into the first.


    One.


    The crack seals without much of a fuss, although it''s accompanied by an intense spike in pain like none of the ones I''ve felt before. It''s strong enough that even the Knight reacts to it¡ªto my surprise, it actually sounds worried. That''s never happened before.


    "Ethan," it says. "Your repairs are essentially complete. You can re-compress your core and rejoin the battle."


    "There are still two more cracks to seal," I say. With the full weight of my mind and focus bent to maintaining this state within my core, I can feel them more clearly than ever.


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    "You do not need this to be perfect, Ethan." The Knight hesitated. "If you continue, your entire core might fracture. This is sufficient."


    "What, you think I can''t do it?" I ask, my tone more lighthearted than I feel. It''s sensing the same thing I am, I suspect. It knows that something''s wrong. The closer I get to finishing my repairs, the more my core resists, and at the rate it''s going there''s a good chance it''ll entirely outpace my ability to hold it together.


    But it was the one to suggest all this to me in the first place.


    "Your capabilities are not in question here," the Knight says. I can tell it''s conflicted. There''s a not-insignificant part of it that wants to see exactly how far I can take this. In a way, it''s touching that it''s worried at all¡ªas far as I can tell, it''s not in the Knight''s nature to worry, so for it to actually be concerned... well, it must really like me. "But the risk¡ª"


    "Is greater if we don''t do this," I say. "You said it yourself, remember? Short term, we''ll survive this challenge. But what about the next? Or the one after that? Something sent this thing here. I got a warning from who knows how far into the future. The time for safe bets is long past."


    The Knight makes a disgruntled noise. "You make a good point." It pauses. "Or I did. But you must be aware the risk is greater than I calculated. This has never been done before¡ªI did not expect this... resistance you are facing."


    "Then we''ll have to figure it out." I can''t help but give it a mental smirk, mostly because it actually seems worried for me. "Don''t pretend you aren''t excited for this."


    The Knight hesitates a moment more, then it returns my smirk, a surprising warmth in its voice. "I admit, I cannot deny my curiosity."


    "Nice to know we''re on the same page," I say, chuckling. "Not that it was ever in question."


    I reach out for another dense chunk of Firmament, forcing it down into a thread with sheer will alone; this time, when I feed it into the second-layer fracture, I feel the entirety of my core shuddering in protest, and the pain that accompanies it makes me collapse. I have to hold on to a piece of rubble for support.


    The wound heals slowly, like it doesn''t want to accept what it''s being fed. Like it''s full.


    But it does heal.


    Two.


    We''re down to the final fracture. I take a breath before feeding any Firmament into it¡ªwith how much sealing each of these last few cracks has escalated the strain in my core, just forcing my Firmament in and hoping for the best is the last thing I want to do. I may be taking a calculated risk, but the whole point is that it''s calculated. I can''t afford to be more careless than I have to be.


    Like I told the Knight: we''ll have to figure this out. It''s right¡ªthere''s some unknown factor here. Something we didn''t account for.


    I take my time. I feel out the crack with my Firmament sense, frowning mentally at the sense I''m getting from it. It feels like it''s a little wider than before...


    That''s not a good sign. What''s causing this?


    The obvious answer is that the more I seal the cracks, the greater the overall strain it''s putting on my core. The problem with that answer is that it doesn''t tell me why. It can''t just be a matter of quantity¡ªif it were, I''d be straining my core every time I draw in Firmament.


    So it''s something else. The cracks affect the overall quality of my core, according to the Knight, but based on what it said, they''re also normal. A natural result of the initial formation of these layers.


    What if they serve a function?


    I pause at the thought and run back through my memories. This isn''t the first time I''ve worked on a damaged core¡ªI repaired Guard''s and performed what was essentially surgery on both Tarin and Naru. At this point I have an intimate familiarity with them. My Firmament sense wasn''t so refined at that point as to be able to detect these hairline cracks, but if I think back to those moments...


    What do all those cores have in common?


    The answer comes to me: they move.


    They aren''t static objects. A Firmament core moves and flows in subtle ways in reaction to both environment and host. That means that to a degree, the cracks are necessary¡ªthey allow an otherwise rigid construct to maintain a certain degree of flexibility. All this increased strain comes from the fact I''m turning my core into a solid, impenetrable object that''s too rigid to have that slight degree of flexibility it needs to breathe.


    I turn the problem over in my head. There has to be a solution that doesn''t involve leaving a bunch of cracks all over my core; that just creates a different kind of vulnerability. What is it? It needs to be able to bend and flex and still be a solid layer of power...


    Or, to frame it in a slightly different way, it needs to be able to change.


    And that just so happens to be my Truth.


    I hope it''s as simple as I''m imagining. My Truth is a part of who I am. It infuses the entire third layer of my core, but it''s also a foundational part of my Firmament. All I need to do is take that Truth and apply it to the entirety of my being, holding in my mind the picture of what I want my power to be¡ªdense but flexible, able to shift and deform and mold itself as needed.


    Like an ocean.


    I layer the final thread of Firmament into that hairline crack. This time, there''s no pain that accompanies it. Instead, my core accepts that Firmament like it was always meant to be¡ªand where before there was a solid expanse of rigid Firmament, there is instead a gentle ripple.


    Just like that, I''m whole again. I can feel my core within me, calm as a lake but ready to boil into an ocean of fury at a moment''s notice.


    And just below the surface of that ocean, formerly out of reach, are two skills shining bright as suns. I can use them now. They''ll exhaust me still, but it won''t tear me apart to use them. Not the way they would have before.


    I open my eyes. Guard and Ahkelios are doing well¡ªholding off the Hand without faltering, albeit not without injury. One of Guard''s hands is hanging loose, wires sparking from the joint; Ahkelios looks like he''s missing an antennae. I wince.


    "About time!" Ahkelios calls, not turning around. There''s a grin in his voice despite the state he''s in, and it makes me smile in spite of myself. "I can feel you from here. Ready to join the party?"


    "We have got to work on your phrasing," I deadpan. I flex my fingers, watching Firmament surge through them and emerge as solid sparks of blue-gold power. "Alright. Let''s do this."


    <hr>


    Gheraa hummed to himself, surveying the field of defeated hands in front of him. "Not bad, if I do say so myself," he said cheerfully, turning to leave. "Just gotta find the boss¡ª"


    He paused, frowning. Something felt strange. He turned back to the field of defeated hands.


    They were dissolving into Firmament. That... wasn''t a bad thing, right? It didn''t feel like an Interface monster being defeated, though. The dissolved Firmament was still corrupted, and it wasn''t dissipating. It was moving.


    Gheraa watched as every single one of the monsters he''d defeated turned into a stream of Firmament heading in one very specific direction.


    "Okay," he said. "Guess I know where the boss is."


    He hesitated and stared for a moment longer, still processing.


    "This is really bad, isn''t it."


    He felt a spark of very, very familiar Firmament.


    "Yup. Really bad."


    Gheraa felt the dungeon wrapping around him and trying to stop him as he activated a half-dozen Speed skills. The maze was meant to be navigated, not just flown over, but right now, he didn''t particularly care.


    He just poured more Firmament into his skills, hoping it would be enough.

 203 — Book 3, Chapter 62 — Confrontation

    It feels good to have my Firmament flowing through me again. I waste no time in kicking things off, activating the Knight Inspiration and feeling myself change; this time, the transformation is smoother than ever, and the pain that usually accompanies it is reduced to nothing more than a dull ache. Like my physical body itself is more malleable as a result of the changes to my core.


    That''s step one. I follow up by activating a secondary transformation¡ªthe Generator Form. The plating of my armor shifts, revealing a torrent of blue-gold Firmament blazing with enough density to rival Guard.


    And with a thought, the Knight and I move, a blast of energy propelling us forward.


    The ground disappears beneath me. A fraction of a second later, the Hand is in front of me, still pointing toward Ahkelios and Guard¡ªit hasn''t had enough time to react. Neither have I, in all honesty, even with Quicken Mind to amplify my reaction times.


    An Amplified Gauntlet coalesces around my fist a fraction of a second before it makes contact. Pure energy jets out of the openings in my right arm, and that energy wraps itself around me all the way up to my shoulder and half my chest. It''s the furthest an Amplified Gauntlet has ever gone, and I can feel the way it energizes the force I''m already generating with every step.


    And then it makes contact.


    A boom reverberates through my skull and the dungeon around us, shattering ground and stone alike. There''s a moment where I worry I''m going to send the Hand flying into another part of the dungeon entirely¡ªthere''s enough of a shockwave from the blow that I''m thrown back a few meters, even with the grounding from the new Physical trait. It''s an unnecessary worry, though. Guard''s chains are still holding strong around the base of the Hand, anchoring it into the dungeon''s floor. On top of that, the sheer amount of force I generated, channeled into the surface area of a single punch?


    Even with the Gauntlet to spread it out, I blast a hole straight through its flesh.


    Its Firmament, really. Whatever it''s made out of is pretty similar to what the Integrators are made out of¡ªpure Firmament, compressed and reconfigured into a substance that has the resilience and look of stone but the malleability and flexibility of flesh. Even with a hole burned through it, it doesn''t lose its mobility; instead, it immediately whirls around, its index finger directly at me.


    I know what''s coming. I can feel the skill being formed. I can dodge it, but if I do, that damage is going directly into the dungeon again.


    Crystallized Barrier. Verdant Armor.


    One more, the plating on my armor opens. This time, forest-green Firmament pours out of the holes, filled to the brim with life; it infuses itself into my plating, turning my armor a rich shade of deep oak trimmed with gold. At the same time, a beam of Firmament erupts from my chest and turns into a shimmering field of crystalline force in front of me, almost a meter thick.


    And then the Hand discharges its skill.


    I feel the blast of nothing it discharges cleave deep into my barrier. The sensation is almost like a pick being driven into my brain¡ªI can feel the Concept embedded in the skill trying to dig into my Firmament and tear through my skills. The barrier cracks, and the whispers of power that leak through stab at my armor, trying to find an opening.


    They fail.


    I may not have embedded a defensive Concept into my skills, but right now, I''m operating at a peak I''ve never been at before. There''s a new flexibility in my core, a new meaning in my skills. My skills already hold fragments of Concepts, expressed through Firmament.


    As I am now, even those fragments are enough. The skill dissipates. I feed what remains to the Void Inspiration, hearing it coo in delight as the Hand roars in anger.


    And then¡ªto my surprise¡ªit speaks.


    "Fools," it snarls. I stare, the shield in front of me dissipating as the Hand whirls around to confront all three of us. The sounds it made before were distorted and ugly, created through the vibrations of its Firmament. Now, though...


    The hole I tore into it has healed into something that vaguely resembles a mouth. Or a maw of some kind. The sight isn''t exactly pleasant.


    "Fools," it repeats itself. "Why do you help this traitor? This pathetic creature that has done nothing but betray its purpose?"


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    "What are you talking about?" I ask, keeping my voice even. Something about this feels strange. It''s whirling around like it''s disoriented, unsure of itself.


    "The creature!" The Hand twitches like it''s aggravated. "It is dead! You cannot help it! I will make sure you cannot¡ª"


    It lurches forward, then staggers, a drunken movement that''s nothing like any move it''s made so far. "It does not deserve your help!" it shrieks. "It is nothing! A pest! A traitor! It cannot listen and it cannot obey!"


    "Someone''s projecting," Ahkelios mutters, making me snort. He''s made his way over to me while the Hand staggers around, trying to compose itself. "We gonna kill it while it''s doing... whatever this is? Because I''m gonna be honest, I don''t feel like waiting it out."


    "Now would be the optimal time to attack," Guard agrees.


    "Can''t say I disagree," I mutter.


    Whatever this thing is, I''m pretty sure it isn''t alive. It''s speaking like it is, but with the way the Firmament within it is twisted... I''m pretty sure this is more a projection of will than an actual, sentient being. There''s a separate presence there, split apart and so carefully hidden I wouldn''t have been able to sense it before today.


    Which means there''s nothing more to gain from this.


    All three of us act as one. Guard''s chains blaze with sudden power before abruptly turning an impossible black; a Firmament circuit hovers in front of him, shining with power. He''s found a way to incorporate the black hole skill with his chains, it seems, and to great effect¡ªthe Hand screams in protest as they sink into its flesh.


    Ahkelios darts forward, a sword in his hand fashioned from some of the dungeon rubble around us. It drips with golden Firmament and a hint of Gheraa''s own power, but infused with Ahkelios''s ability to Cut. His first move slices off the Hand''s pinky in a single clean stroke even as it tries to dodge.


    At almost the same time, I''m there, activating two Amplified Gauntlets at once. With both my arms burning with power, I wrap them around its index finger and pull. Even with the finger itself being larger than my entire body, the base Firmament tears with a sickening crack and groan, and I toss the dissolving finger into the rubble.


    Just like that, it''s missing two fingers. Deep cuts have melted halfway through its palm, courtesy of Guard''s chains. It can''t retaliate without the finger it uses to fire those beams at us¡ª


    ¡ªand yet, it hasn''t stopped babbling.


    "Weak," it cries. "It is weak! Why would you help such weakness? It is worse than nothing! It will pay!"


    "We''re hurting it faster than it can heal!" I call out, trying to ignore it. "Keep going!"


    We''re winning, despite its resilience. That''s all it really seems to have going for it. An astounding resilience and incredibly rapid healing. Even with that, we''re making progress¡ªfrom two fingers disabled to three, then from three to four.


    I consider a strategy like the one we used on the Seedmother, a well-timed Causal Shattering that causes all the damage to reflect on it at once, but it''s healing fast enough the windows of time I''ll have to target are incredibly precise. I''m as likely to accidentally heal it as I am to hurt it. I''ll have to try anyway if this goes on long enough, but we are winning.


    Together. I don''t think we''ve ever fought at this level before¡ªperfectly synchronized and on the same page. There''s something comforting about being able to rely on one another to this extent; any slight slip-up is caught by Ahkelios or by Guard, and we defend one another before the Hand can do anything to us.


    It might be slow, but it''s a decidedly one-sided battle.


    And then I realize that something''s wrong.


    The pattern in the background is shifting. Premonition is beginning to blare, warning me there''s something coming. Something is about to change. There''s no direction to it, no hint as to what it is, but...


    "Be careful," I say. "Something''s coming."


    Both Ahkelios and Guard give me a sharp nod, no questions asked. Guard''s sensors whir to life as they activate, and I can sense Ahkelios activating some sort of sensory skill, examining the horizon. I do the same, extending my Firmament sense as far as it can go.


    Nothing.


    But there''s something wrong with that nothing. It feels almost like the Firmament around us is too plain. Too uniform. Too ordinary.


    Something''s hiding from us.


    Ahkelios comes to the same conclusion only a second after I do, evidently. He narrows his eyes, then reaches up, tearing off his remaining antenna¡ª


    "What are you doing?!" I have to physically stop myself from grabbing him. I trust him to know what he''s doing, but the sight throws me off enough that I''m running on pure instinct.


    Ahkelios throws me a pained grin. An infusion of Firmament later, he''s suddenly holding a new sword; this one looks like it''s constructed from chitin, but there''s an odd lining of tiny filaments that twitch and move like they''re alive.


    I think I understand what he''s trying to do, but I''m starting to think I might be a bad influence.


    Because of what it''s made from, this new sword is aligned¡ªhowever minimally¡ªwith the Concept of Sensing. And when he uses it to cut, the blade tears through the illusion surrounding us like it''s little more than paper.


    We haven''t been fighting an illusion, fortunately. I''d been worried about that being a possibility, but that''s not what was being hidden from us.


    The truth, admittedly, isn''t much better.


    There''s a storm of Firmament arriving. It''s hard to make out because of the sheer volume of it, but I''m reasonably certain that individually, none of the fragments are particularly strong.


    Together, though, they might pose something of a problem. For a moment, I think that Firmament is coming for us. That the plan is to overwhelm the three of us with corrupted Firmament and interfere with the fight. That wouldn''t be enough to change the tide of the battle¡ª


    ¡ªexcept that Firmament isn''t coming for us. It''s going for the Hand. I put two and two together.


    Shit.

 204 — Book 3, Chapter 63 — An Ounce of Prevention

    "Don''t let that get to the Hand!" I call out.


    I dash forward as I speak. Guard must have reached the same conclusion a second before I did, because he''s already moving, determination blazing in his optic. He yanks on the chain, dragging the Hand toward us and away from that storm of incoming Firmament; at the same time, Ahkelios flies up into the air, his blade shining with another one of his sword skills.


    He slashes, creating a rift in the air that barrels forward and slices through the corrupted Firmament. It hangs in the air for a moment, and for a split second, I think it works¡ªbut then it simply gathers itself together again and flows onward, untouched.


    Ahkelios lets out a growl of frustration. I call out to him even as I charge toward the Hand. "Use my skills!"


    There''s a burst of intent through the link between us. In a single moment, Ahkelios and I agree on a plan, and that plan crystallizes into action. Ahkelios draws on a combination of Crystallized Barrier and Firmament Control, creating a scattered array in the sky to stop the progress of that corrupted Firmament. In the meantime, I grab the Hand and throw, lifting it clean off the ground and tossing it further in Guard''s direction.


    It screeches in protest, of course. The noise is a shrill scream that cuts through the air and makes me wince. "You struggle for nothing!" it seethes. "For nothing! You struggle to save a thing that deserves no pity!"


    I am so very sick of hearing this. "Gheraa deserves a second chance," I snap. "And you aren''t going to stop me from giving it to him."


    It''s the wrong thing to say, apparently. The Hand doubles its efforts to break free, straining against Guard''s chains and making him grunt with exertion as he pours in Firmament to try to keep it down.


    Even with his enormous reserves, there''s only so much he can channel at any one time.


    And he''s not the only one that''s struggling. Ahkelios is barely able to contain that incoming Firmament; the two skills he''s borrowing help, but not enough. That incoming storm of power is too slippery, for lack of a better term¡ªjust like the Hand itself, it''s corrupted with a Concept that makes it difficult to manipulate. It acts almost like it has a will of its own, albeit a very basic and rudimentary one.


    If nothing else, the Hand is relatively easy to keep under control, but even that doesn''t sit easy with me. It''s one of the strongest creatures we''ve fought; even with how much we''ve grown, I''m not sure it should be this easy¡ª


    I narrow my eyes, taking my thoughts back a few steps. Guard can only channel so much Firmament at once, despite his reserves. The Hand...


    It''s using us.


    The thought strikes me out of the blue, but I could snarl at myself for not thinking of it earlier. It really, really wants to stop us from reviving Gheraa, that much is clear, but there''s a problem with that plan: there''s only so much Firmament it can handle at once. It''s packed full of power, and all that power means there''s less space for it to take in the dungeon''s Firmament and corrupt it.


    Guard''s problem is that he can''t channel the amount of Firmament he contains. The Hand is the opposite. It can channel Firmament enormous volumes of Firmament just fine, but there''s only so much it can hold. It hasn''t had the same reinforcement I''ve given to Guard.


    Which is where we come in. The more damage we inflict on it, the more it''s able to absorb everything around it. The reason the fight hasn''t been harder, the reason it hasn''t shown us anything besides a single offensive skill...


    It wants us to hurt it. We''re accelerating the destruction of the dungeon. Every time it heals itself, it consumes a chunk of Firmament and creates a little more space.


    We need a different strategy. A way to destroy it without giving it the chance to heal.


    The problem with that plan, of course, is that it''s a solid block of Firmament that doesn''t have any vital organs or distinct weaknesses¡ªno matter how much we hack away at it, it''s able to regenerate near-instantaneously. With all three of us fighting it, we can do just enough damage to overwhelm its healing, but in retrospect, that doesn''t mean it''ll die. Not as long as it has a source of Firmament. And with Ahkelios preoccupied trying to hold all that power back...


    Come on, Ethan. Figure it out.


    If we could destabilize whatever it''s using to hold itself together, for example, or interfere with whatever viral Concept it is that''s infected it, we might be able to tear it apart¡ª


    The Hand manages to briefly shatter Guard''s chains; he staggers backward, trying to recover, and in that window of time the Hand launches off the ground and toward Ahkelios. I grit my teeth and Warpstep into the space between them, grabbing it by the finger and using its momentum to whip it around and back into a mostly-depleted pile of rubble.


    Quickened Mind doesn''t give me that much extra time at this level of combat, I note grimly. I need to be faster.


    It doesn''t have any weaknesses that I''ve observed. It does have a pattern¡ªit always uses its index finger to fire that void-beam skill. Whenever we succeed in cutting it off, it doesn''t use it again until the finger''s regenerated.


    If it''s holding back, then it stands to reason that it has a few other skills it hasn''t used. I don''t think its enormous physical strength and considerable durability count as skills. Likewise, its absorption and regeneration appear to be innate qualities. What am I missing?


    I let out a sharp breath of air.


    I can''t sense any skill constructs. I can''t sense a core.


    Which means it is using another skill.


    It can''t just be a solid block of Firmament. Almost everything I''ve encountered has some kind of core¡ªeven the monsters. And of everything it''s shown us so far...


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    Something must have been creating the illusion that hid that Firmament storm from us. Even now, I can feel that same illusion trying to wrap around us again; only the rift of Firmament Ahkelios left behind is preventing it from taking effect. But what if that''s not the only illusion it''s maintaining?


    What if that illusion is just a distraction?


    Throughout the battle, it''s always made sure that the most convenient fingers to sever were the four fingers atop its hand, but never¡ª


    "The thumb!" I shout. I dive toward it even as I say the words, and Guard reacts quickly, creating new chains and moving with incredible precision. They wrap around each of the Hand''s fingers, looping across one and the next as it struggles¡ªand before it can pull free, he whips his chains down, slamming the entire thing palm-first into the ground.


    I land atop it a second later, wrapping two Amplified Gauntlets around its thumb and pulling. There''s a snap and a crack, followed by a sudden loosening; I stumble backward¡ª


    ¡ªand what remains of the illusion dissolves around us.


    I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.


    The dungeon''s in ruins. There''s a massive chunk of the dungeon that''s just gone, absorbed into the Hand. It''s been hiding a lot more than just its core¡ªit''s been hiding the sheer range at which it can operate, the sheer amount it''s been absorbing.


    I don''t know if what''s left is enough to bring Gheraa back¡ª


    I banish that thought almost as soon as I have it.


    No. It''s not over yet.


    Without its illusions to hide it, there''s a core blazing clear as day within the Hand, though to call it a core feels like an insult. It''s a crude, rudimentary thing that mimics what I imagine a fourth-layer core would look like.


    More importantly, however, is that a majority of the Firmament it absorbed hasn''t been integrated yet. It''s trying, but the process is slow. What remains of Gheraa''s Firmament seems to be fighting against it, struggling to resist the Hand''s control.


    And then there''s the state of its core. The way the skill constructs are built within it, one in each finger...


    My thoughts are interrupted as the Hand bucks beneath me, trying to throw me off; its flesh sizzles and bubbles violently where it makes contact with Guard''s chains, and I hear him grunting with effort.


    "I can''t hold it much longer!" Guard calls.


    "I got what I need!" I use a Warpstep to put some space between myself and the Hand; an instant later, the chains dissolve, Guard panting harshly as he cycles air through his vents. "It has a core," I tell him. "We just need to target it."


    "And how do we do that?" Guard takes a few wary steps back as he registers the state of the dungeon around us.


    "Still figuring that out!" I grab his shoulder and Warpstep again even as I speak, only barely dodging the beam the Hand sends at us; it knows I''ve figured it out. In the meantime, Guard''s recovered enough to create another set of chains, this time using them like a lasso and slinging the Hand violently into a pile of rubble. It doesn''t do much damage, but it does buy us time.


    "Gonna need you guys to hurry it up!" Ahkelios shouts. He''s maintaining an impressive array of barriers, although I notice with some worry that the corrupted Firmament burns through them with greater and greater speed. The Hand gets up more quickly than ever, too, and shatters Guard''s latest chain with an odd flex of Firmament.


    It''s adapting, I realize. Learning how to fight us.


    But it''s not the only one capable of adapting.


    I think back to the glimpse I caught of the Hand''s core. The shoddy construction of it means that it''s uniquely vulnerable to the same problem Guard used to have; too much Firmament and the entire thing is likely to unravel. I''m not sure it can even use most of its skills without risking destabilizing the whole thing, especially with all that foreign Firmament floating around in there.


    Which the best option right now is...


    I wince. Ahkelios isn''t going to like this.


    "''Kelios." I use our mental link to contact him¡ªit''s easier and faster than shouting across the dungeon. He glances back at me, still frantically juggling a series of barriers.


    "Little busy here!"


    "I need you to let it through."


    "What¡ªare you serious?" He takes a second to process my tone. "You''re serious."


    "Trust me. Please."


    Ahkelios stares at the storm of Firmament he''s trying to hold off, then lets out an aggravated sigh; a moment later, the barriers all collapse, and he Warpsteps over to my side. "I hope you know what you''re doing, Ethan."


    "So do I," I say wryly.


    The Firmament pours in toward the Hand. It lets out a triumphant screech as it turns to face that incoming storm, opening its mouth to swallow it all¡ªeven from here, I can feel its core beginning to flex and bend at the onslaught.


    "Keep its thumb severed," I tell Ahkelios. "I don''t want it trying to trick us again."


    He nods and dashes off, blade in hand. The Hand''s preoccupied trying to take in all that Firmament¡ªif it weren''t for the fact that it would just heal instantly, this would be the perfect opportunity to try to kill it. Instead, I turn my attention to He-Who-Guards.


    This isn''t going to be enough. We''ll need one more thing to push it over the edge, and it''s by far the shakiest part of the plan. Partly because I''ve never even considered the possibility before now, let alone tried it.


    "Guard," I say. "Do you trust me?"


    He gives me a strange look. "I am offended you have to ask."


    I chuckle at this, despite the situation. "Had to make sure," I say. "I''m going to try to create a link between us. The same one I have with Ahkelios. Are you okay with that?"


    Guard''s optic flickers as he processes my words. "Is that... possible?" he asks, uncertain. "I am not opposed. It would be an honor. But how would that help us win this battle?"


    "I''ll tell you the rest once we''re linked, if it works," I say, offering a slight smile. He bows his head in acknowledgement.


    "When you are ready, then."


    Prismatic Firmament swirls in his chest. Guard''s core, unlike any other core I''ve seen, carries so much Firmament that it''s perfectly visible. The fact that his body was built with a specialized housing unit just to contain it is a remarkable reflection of exactly how much power it holds.


    I reach out to make contact with it, my fingers brushing against the glass housing. Guard shivers in response, but says nothing; instead, he waits.


    There''s exactly one piece of evidence that this might work. I''ve tried it once before, although it feels like an age ago: back when Rotar was frozen in the Fracture, I empowered Temporal Link with an Inspiration and tried to connect with him. It went poorly, but it did establish two things for me.


    First is that I can use Temporal Link on any entity that''s out of sync with Hestia''s time. Given that the sheer weight of Guard''s core has given him immunity to the loops, he qualifies.


    Second is that I can, in fact, use an Inspiration¡ªThe Mirror Twice Shattered, specifically¡ªto empower my ability to form a Temporal Link. I hadn''t fully understood the skill or the Mirror at the time, and even now, they''re among the more complex tools I have.


    The main difference now, besides all the ways I''ve grown? I hadn''t known Rotar particularly well. The Mirror Twice Shattered is an emotional Inspiration. It emerged from some of the worst moments of my life. I can''t use it to create a link with someone I don''t understand or with someone that doesn''t understand me.


    He-Who-Guards and I, on the other hand...


    It may not have been for long, but we''ve fought and stood together enough for me to begin to understand the kind of person he is. I have no doubt he''s done the same for me.


    It''ll have to be enough. I call on both Inspiration and skill.


    The Mirror Twice Shattered: Temporal Link.

 205 — Book 3, Chapter 64 — A Pound of Core

    The core of an Inspiration is that they alter the skills that pass through them in some fundamental way. The Knight is the strongest one I have, and the skills that pass through it usually emerge as some physical alteration to my form rather than the usual energy projections.


    The Mirror Twice Shattered, on the other hand, is perhaps the most unpredictable. It''s one of the reasons I haven''t used it as much¡ªthe Mirror tends to lend an emotional tint of some sort to the skills it alters, and most of the options I have aren''t pleasant.


    It''s a representation of some of the worst moments in my life, after all. The Mirror is a reflection of me as I was, and who I was back then...


    Determination. Anger. Sadness. Fear.


    I remember looking back at the Mirror in the moments after I first received it. It hadn''t felt particularly good at the time, having my life laid out in such broad strokes. It hadn''t felt like a real representation of who I was.


    I remember my thoughts back then. The Mirror took the most significant moments of my life and turned them into a source of power, but what it hadn''t been able to do was take the small moments. Recovery hadn''t been instantaneous. It was a slow process, built up over months and years, learning to smile again, learning to laugh, learning to live...


    Only for me to be brought into the Trials right as I felt like I might be ready to face the world again. Go figure.


    Now that I think about it, even back then, I think I had a connection with both my Truth and my Talent. I might not have really known what I was doing, but I looked at the Mirror and thought it felt wrong. Like it failed to truly capture who I was. I''d forgotten this up until now, the memories suspiciously foggy.


    Now, though? Clear as day. I remember reaching back to the Mirror, trying to fix it. Trying to make it represent who I really was.


    And in that attempt...


    The smallest hint of an early Anchoring. The slightest invocation of a Change.


    I''d created a fifth fragment that joined with the Mirror. Unnamed, unspoken, and untouched, hovering around the edges of memory and reality.


    That''s the aspect of the Mirror that I draw upon now. It''s the fragment created not from any deep trauma, but from the life I lived after. The steps I took to bring myself back from the brink.


    He-Who-Guards is many things, but if I had to put a single emotion to him, it wouldn''t be within any of those four quadrants of power I initially invoked with the Mirror. Anger doesn''t suit him. He may have experienced sadness, but he''s never let it define him. I''m not sure I''ve even seen him scared unless it''s for someone else''s safety. And as much as he might be determined, that isn''t what he''s all about.


    The fifth fragment, though... it suits him. I name it here and now, the one thing that carried me through both my recovery and every loop of this Trial.


    Hope.


    He-Who-Guards, at his core, is someone that always carries hope with him. It''s why he protects. It''s why he still stands, even after everything Whisper has done to him.


    Temporal Link changes. The thread of Firmament that emerges from it now shines a pure white tinged with just the faintest hint of iridescence, a perfect match to the prismatic nature of Guard''s power. It slides through the glass without resistance, makes contact with his core¡ª


    ¡ªand the world around us freezes.


    It takes a moment for Guard to recognize that something''s changed. When he does, he blinks, looking around in confusion. "Ethan? What is this?" he asks. His words emerge with the cadence of a mental link.


    "This is as new to me as it is to you," I admit. "I think it''s a mental buffer the link is creating for us to try to connect our cores. It''s a lot like the first few times I received an Inspiration, actually."


    The only real difference is that with Gheraa, my words didn''t have the same echoing quality to them. That''s no surprise, though¡ªGheraa is an order of magnitude more powerful than I am still, and he had the support of the Interface in maintaining this space to boot.


    I wonder if that''s important. If Temporal Link is capable of creating a space like the one we use for Inspirations, what does that imply about the skill as a whole? For that matter, what does it imply about what Kauku is?


    I suppose it doesn''t matter at this exact moment.


    I can feel Temporal Link working. It''s making a connection with the part of Guard that isn''t entirely in-sync with the timestream¡ªthat aspect of him that stays coherent even when the rest of the world rolls back. It''s the densest and deepest part of his core, deep within a storm of Firmament that boils and churns with a power I don''t think I would have felt without this link.


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    "I think..." I say out loud, and I notice with some surprise that my voice comes out clear now. The connection is stabilizing, maybe? Or the space is. "I think we need to do more to fully establish the link."


    "What more do we have to do?" Guard asks.


    I shrug. This is as new to me as it is to him. I close my eyes, feeling things out with my Firmament sense instead of my eyes¡ªit''s not like vision really matters in a space like this.


    And I feel it.


    The new link is there. It''s trying to form even now, a tendril of Firmament reaching out through my core and into his. The reason it''s able to at all is because the nature of the link is attuned to the both of us, but...


    Guard''s soul is even bigger than I anticipated. The link is struggling to establish itself, wavering with uncertainty between our two cores. For this to work, the two of us have to be of one mind for at least a single instant¡ªwe need to have the same thought, the same intent, the same hope.


    Easier said than done, I think wryly.


    "Sit with me?" I ask. Guard shoots me a curious look, but he complies¡ªwe find a pile of rubble nearby and make ourselves comfortable. "The bond''s halfway to forming, but it needs more. You''re, uh¡ª" I snort a little at the phrasing. "¡ªYour soul''s a little too big for this to be easy."


    Guard quirks his optic slightly. "Whisper had no such complaints," he says, clearly amused. I roll my eyes.


    "I don''t need to know about that, thank you," I say. "When did you come with jokes?"


    "Exposure to a certain pair of Trialgoers had rather irreversible side effects, I''m afraid," he deadpans, and I have to muffle a laugh as I shake my head.


    I think it''s the first time I''ve seen him like this. He''s relaxed, almost, despite the situation we''re in. It takes me a moment to realize why.


    This space we''re in, despite all the similarities it shares with reality¡ªit''s ultimately just a mental construct we''re sharing. What I''m seeing now is how Guard sees himself. He''s so used to his mechanical body that he''s more metal than silverwisp, but if I look closely enough...


    The shape of his "eye" shifts a little every time he''s trying to express himself with a little more malleability than it should be capable of having. There are times his form wavers just slightly. Small quirks present in the metal that aren''t there in the real, physical world.


    "You''re more comfortable here, aren''t you?" I ask quietly. Guard glances at me, but he doesn''t seem surprised by the question. Instead, he hesitates for a moment, then nods.


    "This is a strange place," he says. He looks down to his hands and clenches his fists a few times, watching the movement. "The body Whisper gave me is incomplete. It lacks sensation, flexibility, and movement. Here, it seems, things are different. I am more... myself."


    I nod. "Not that it''s particularly comparable, but I feel the same way."


    I hadn''t noticed it at first, but my Interface-modified bones don''t weigh me down here. The Knight transformation is gone. Right now, I''m just Ethan Hill.


    The link between us solidifies just a little further, but not nearly enough.


    It''s odd, having a quiet moment like this in the middle of what should be a tense battle. All around me, I see evidence of how important this is going to be¡ªthe amount of destruction to the dungeon, now that I have the time to properly observe it... there are large swathes of the Intermediary that are just gone.


    Courtesy of the Hand''s void beam, no doubt, but with the true extent of the damage hidden by that illusory skill.


    Guard seems to notice the shift in my mood. He speaks again, drawing me out from my thoughts. "Is there more we must do to speed up this process?"


    He''s relying on me, isn''t he? They all are. Not just Ahkelios and Guard and Gheraa, but considering the state of things on Hestia, the situation with the Integrators as a whole, and that cryptic warning I sent myself...


    "We need to synchronise," I say. "Just for a moment. Intent and thought and emotion. We need to be one being just enough for our Firmament to align and the bond to take hold. I don''t think it has to be perfect, but it has to be close."


    Guard tilts his head slightly, considering this. "Not a trivial task," he says.


    "Not at all," I agree. I''m about to make a suggestion, but Guard stops me, holding up a hand.


    "I believe I have an idea," he says. "Such a moment would be difficult to artificially create, if not wholly impossible. But perhaps, given a matter we care equally about..."


    His voice softens. "If I understand who you are¡ªand I do, in this regard¡ªthen this will work."


    Guard''s optic flickers shut. For a moment, nothing happens¡ªand then for just a fraction of a second, his Firmament and soul unravels into a fractal of pure prismatic power. He reaches within himself¡ª


    ¡ªand from within, a second presence emerges.


    It wouldn''t have been possible for anyone else. A single bond created by Temporal Link isn''t strong enough to host a third mind, let alone a third soul.


    But He-Who-Guards is different, isn''t he? The same way I am. The same way Ahkelios is, even if he hasn''t completely found that aspect of himself yet.


    He''s his own kind of impossible. The type of soul around which a world can change, so long as it lives for long enough.


    I know who this is even before the bright flash of Firmament resolves, and I know what Guard is thinking.


    He''s right. This will work.


    I kneel down before the slightly-confused, pillbug-shaped presence that stands before us.


    "You must be Aris," I say quietly. The one who would have been Miktik''s daughter. The one Miktik tried to save¡ªhad saved, even if she didn''t know it herself. "Your mother has a message for you. Would you like to hear it?"


    Aris looks up at me. She doesn''t understand what''s going on, doesn''t know what any of this is¡ªshe isn''t really part of the bond as much as she is a guest¡ªbut she doesn''t need to.


    All she needed to hear were those seven words. Your mother has a message for you.


    She nods. Trembling and hesitant at first, like she doesn''t really believe me. Then more vigorously, a choked sob emerging from her throat.


    "Please," she whispers.


    I nod. I reach out so she can hold on to me, smaller insectoid limbs clinging to my fingers.


    He-Who-Guards must have realized this at some point, but because the space we''re in is less a literal frozen snapshot of reality and more a creation of our shared minds, I don''t have to just tell her the words.


    I can show her.


    So I do.

 206 — Book 3, Chapter 65 — Synchronization

    The world around them changed, and He-Who-Guards watched.


    He didn''t recognize this space. It was a small workshop of some kind with a ceiling so low he had to bend over to avoid scraping his head against it; an assortment of technology, both legal and Integrator-derived sat, scattered around the workbench and shelves.


    Miktik''s workshop. A small part of him recognized it, but he''d never been inside himself¡ªWhisper had been rather specific about making sure both he and his proxies avoided the area. He supposed now he knew why.


    Ethan stood next to him, eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as he recreated the memory, detail after painstaking detail slowly resolving into the makeshift world around them. Aris looked around at the workshop, eyes wide and antennae twitching, filled with equal parts dread and anticipation, hope and longing.


    And a heartbeat later, as Ethan opened his eyes brought his memory of Miktik into being, Guard understood why Aris looked so different now compared to when they first met. It had surprised him at first, but looking at the two of them side by side...


    Aris looked just like a younger version of her mother.


    Miktik had built her and then sacrificed everything for her. The form Aris chose when they first met was a temporary thing, constructed so they could have a conversation, but this was how she truly saw herself.


    Then Miktik reached out like she wanted to hold her daughter. Aris seemed surprised at first, almost hesitant¡ªbut then she took a trembling step forward, then another, and practically fell into her mother''s arms.


    And just like that, they were holding one another.


    "I''m sorry I never got to meet you," Miktik whispered. "There were so many things I wanted to show you, I¡ªI don''t even know where to start."


    "It''s okay," Aris said. Her voice shook. "It''s okay, mom."


    "I wanted to show you how to build things," Miktik said. The words were sad, but she tried to smile anyway. "Because it''s what I love doing. But I was looking forward to helping you find a calling of your own. It was going to be amazing. I even convinced all my friends ahead of time to take you on as an apprentice, did you know that?"


    "I didn''t," Aris said. She looked up at her mother, responding like she''d forgotten that all of this was just a memory¡ªlike her mother was really there. "All of them? Isn''t Bimar''s specialty poisons?"


    "I know Bimar''s specialty is poisons, but I wasn''t going to rule anything out." Miktik chuckled softly, then reached out with one of her limbs, brushing it gently across Aris''s cheek. "I hope you know that''s part of why I did all this. I wanted to make the city safe for you. I wanted you to be born free to do anything you wanted, not as another one of Whisper''s tools..."


    Miktik trailed off and sagged. "But I failed. I gave you to her."


    "You didn''t want to," Aris said. "She would''ve killed both of us if you didn''t. I know why you did it, mom."


    "I know she threatened me. I know I couldn''t have done any different. That doesn''t make it any better. But I find myself wondering sometimes what might be different if I''d been a little more careful. I still don''t know how she found out..."


    Miktik sighed, then looked up into the air. "No, you''re right," she said after a moment, responding to some unseen thing Ethan had said. "I should just say what I want her to hear."


    The reminder that this was a memory made Aris flinch. She stilled slightly, not pulling out of Miktik''s arms but no longer leaning in.


    "Aris. I wanted to see you grow more than anything. I''m sorry I never got to. To be honest, there were times I thought you''d never get the chance to grow at all¡ªthat I lost you to Whisper and would never get you back.


    "I don''t exactly know why, but I think... I know this human is going to find a way to give you that chance. So I''m going to say this like you''re in front of me. Like you''re alive the way I always wanted you to be, and I want you to remember this moment like I am too."


    Then Miktik looked down at her daughter. Somehow, even through the gap of time and possibility, their eyes met. Miktik took a deep breath, forcing herself to smile, and when she spoke, it was with a new strength and an unwavering voice.


    Something in Aris seemed to break at this. She clung to Miktik fiercely, crying as her mother spoke like they were both really there.


    "My name is Miktik of the Ayulch clan. A long time ago, we were best known for inventions that revolutionized gardening, if you can believe it." She smiled a small smile. "That legacy is yours, but only if you want it. So is my workshop. I''ve made sure you can break through the firewalls, so have at it¡ªconsider it a final challenge from your mother.


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    "Be strong. Be brave. But more important than that... be yourself. Live life the way you would want to live it. Not for me, you understand? Find something you can be proud of, something that brings you joy.


    "I love you, Aris." Miktik drew her daughter close, pressing their foreheads together. "Never forget that. And because I never got the chance to say it..."


    He-Who-Guards remembered in an abrupt flash what Aris had said to him the last time they spoke.


    Forget goodbye, I... I never even got a chance to say hello.


    Like mother, like daughter.


    Miktik pulled back just enough to give Aris one last smile. "Hello, Aris. Welcome to the world of the living."


    Aris let out a choked sob. Her voice was small, but she forced the words out all the same. "Hi, mom."


    And just like that, the memory ended. The three that remained stood in Miktik''s tiny workshop, and they were silent for a long moment. It was Aris that broke the silence.


    "I need a moment," she said quietly. "Thank you. Both of you."


    Guard felt her disappear back into his systems. He tried to figure out what he wanted to say. He''d known Ethan had done something to strain his Firmament so deeply. He hadn''t known it was this.


    He''d stayed. Not just for some final words to pass on. He''d stayed to give a mother and a daughter a chance to speak to one another across death itself.


    "It seemed almost as though she could see her daughter," Guard said quietly. "Was that your doing?"


    Ethan shook his head. "No. That was the memory, as real as I could make it."


    "Just a coincidence, then." The words didn''t feel right, though.


    "Doesn''t feel that way, does it?" Ethan glanced up at him. "I mean, maybe sometimes a coincidence is just the universe being kind."


    "That would imply it can also be cruel." Guard tilted his head.


    "It does, doesn''t it?" Ethan said. "I mean, it''s just probability, at the end of the day. But..."


    Ethan hesitated, his gaze lingering on the center of the workshop where Aris and Miktik had been.


    "But it is up to us to make these possibilities real," Guard said, finishing the sentence for him.


    Ethan nodded¡ª


    ¡ªand in that moment, something crystallized between them.


    <hr>


    He-Who-Guards knew that it was this that he wanted to protect. The endless possibilities of the future. The bonds between individuals, superseding the boundaries of species and culture. These rare, impossible moments, cultivated and brought to fruition.


    He was who he was because he held an unwavering hope in a future that was better than the present, even in the smallest of ways.


    He couldn''t bring Miktik back, but he could at least help Aris speak to her like this, one last time.


    <hr>


    This is who I want to be. I don''t know what being the Scion of Change meant to someone like Kauku, but for someone like me, it''s simple. I know what all this power is for.


    To create hope when there''s none left. To make all things possible. To change things for the better, even in the smallest of ways.


    I might not be able to bring Miktik back, but I can at least let them speak to one another, one last time.


    <hr>


    A Temporal Link snaps into place and then surges to life with a strength I''ve never seen before, fueled by both Guard''s soul and mine. That change ripples down through my bond with Ahkelios as reality fades back in, and he lets out a slight yelp as he flares with sudden power; his next attempted attack slices straight through the Hand''s thumb, reinforced as it is by the onslaught of absorbed Firmament.


    "Did you two just do something?" he calls. "What just happened?"


    "I''ll tell you later." I shoot him a grin, then turn to Guard. The strength of this new link changes things slightly. I''d originally planned to use my ability to channel Firmament and combine it with Guard''s enormous reserves to try to overload the Hand, but now...


    I don''t think we can share skills. Not yet, at least, and not without a lot of practice. The way Guard uses his skill circuits are too different from the way skill constructs operate.


    But skills aren''t the only things I''m capable of. What if they aren''t the only things I can share?


    "Think you can help us out?" I ask the Void Inspiration. It perks up at my words, excited. "I''ve got a lot of Firmament here for you to eat."


    "yes!" it exclaims. "Hungry!"


    It takes only a second for me to tell Guard what I want him to do and for him to agree. Then the link between us burns the color of Void¡ªand that color spreads to his chains, drawing in all the Firmament around it.


    Specifically, it draws in any Firmament the Hand tries to use to heal or channel toward any of its other skills. There are three more skills I haven''t seen it use, and I have no desire to find out what they are.


    And then it''s my turn. The Hand''s core is stuffed to the brim, and the Void chains are absorbing any Firmament it tries to use against us.


    "You cannot help him!" it tries to shout. "You will fail!"


    "No," I say. "We won''t."


    I use Firmament Control to direct a stream of my power¡ªmine and Guard''s, really¡ªdirectly into the Hand''s slowly cracking core. There''s nowhere for all that Firmament to go except into the Void, and the Void isn''t eating fast enough to overwhelm the sheer amount that''s already in there.


    Cracks appear in stoneskin flesh. Golden streams of Gheraa''s Firmament begin to leak through, back into the dungeon.


    Uncorrupted. Safe. It melds with the rubble scattered around the dungeon, and slowly but surely, the walls begin to heal.


    And the Hand, meanwhile, begins to scream.

 207 — Book 3, Chapter 66 — Showmanship

    Gheraa wasn''t entirely sure what had happened. One moment he was speeding toward what he assumed was Ethan and the others and the next the world had gone dark.


    It was like he''d briefly died. Again! Which was insulting, first of all. Dying once was bad enough, but twice? While he was a paradox-sustained entity? Of all the...


    Wait, no, Ethan was in trouble. He was getting distracted by his ego again. He darted off once again in the direction of that storm of Firmament, determined to help put a stop to the doubtlessly rampaging beast he''d helped create.


    Then he stopped and blinked a few times, wondering if he was seeing this right.


    That was definitely a giant hand. It was almost definitely the boss, considering the amount of Firmament he sensed within. It wasn''t rampaging, though. Quite the opposite. It writhed around on the ground, screaming through a mouth it had manifested in the middle of its palm as golden Firmament poured out of a dozen cracks.


    A mantis-like creature¡ªAhkelios?¡ªstood next to it, lopping off its thumb whenever that thumb regenerated, which really wasn''t very often. Dark, Void-aligned chains wrapped around every finger, drawing out every drop of non-dungeon Firmament the moment the giant hand tried to channel them.


    Several steps away, there was an automaton that was almost certainly He-Who-Guards, and...


    Gheraa had no idea what he was looking at.


    It looked like a fully-armored being, except the armor was made of a sort of bone composite that covered every inch of his body. The only openings in that armor glowed bright with Firmament¡ªthick streams of power jetted out from them occasionally, apparently to help their owner stabilize itself as it channeled a beam so bright that Gheraa had to squint to see past it.


    The beam was directing Firmament straight into the boss monster''s core. Was that even possible? Gheraa felt like that wasn''t supposed to be possible.


    He was also feeling very shown up at the moment, which wasn''t something he was used to. Who or what was this thing? It was like nothing he''d ever seen in the Trials. And where was Ethan, anyway? If that was Ahkelios and He-Who-Guards, then Ethan had to be somewhere nearby, unless they''d decided to split up for some reason.


    The only other possibility was¡ª


    Gheraa blinked, then felt out the Firmament in front of him a little more carefully. Now that he was paying attention, the armored man did feel kind of familiar. Those were some awfully recognizable skill constructs, for instance. He''d recognize Temporal Echo and its variations anywhere.


    But the core he was looking at...


    That was a third-layer core. When he''d last seen Ethan he''d been at, what, the first layer? He had a vague memory that Ethan might have gone a little further than that since, but his memories of his dungeon-self were like half-forgotten dreams. He didn''t really know what had happened, and he certainly wasn''t expecting Ethan to have hit the third layer.


    Also, this was like no third-layer core he''d ever felt before.


    Still, all evidence pointed to this being Ethan. Probably.


    Only one way to find out.


    "Ethan?" he asked awkwardly. He''d imagined swooping in to save the human, not... whatever this was. His plans were thrown off. How was he supposed to have a dramatic introduction now?


    The thing-that-was-probably-Ethan glanced back at him, then did a double-take. "Gheraa?" he asked. "How are you¡ªno, hang on, questions later. We need to finish up with this thing first."


    Okay, that was definitely Ethan. His voice sounded strange¡ªdistorted by the armor and overlaid with a second, older voice that Gheraa couldn''t help but feel like he should have recognized¡ªbut it was his voice.


    Gheraa walked up to him, still a little stunned. "You look... different," he said. What was this stuff? He poked at Ethan''s shoulder experimentally. Whatever this material was, it was even harder than his own stoneskin body.


    Ethan threw him a look that Gheraa thought was probably a withering glare. He couldn''t read the human''s expressions as well through the helmet. "Not right now," he said. "We''re trying to kill the thing that wants you dead."


    "It wants me dead?" Gheraa blinked, looking at the giant hand. He felt like it should have been more threatening, but right now it was just squirming around on the ground screaming. "Me specifically?"


    "You specifically," Ethan confirmed.


    "I''ll kill you!" it screamed, as if to add additional confirmation. Gheraa looked over at it¡ªyup, it was definitely trying to get to him. It was digging its fingers into the dirt and everything, dragging itself slowly over, and it turned with him when he tried to move out of its way.


    Something about it seemed oddly familiar, and not in a way he liked.


    Fortunately, it didn''t get the chance to get anywhere close. Its core was reaching some sort of tipping point¡ªGheraa watched in a mixture of fascination and slight horror as the thing that called itself a core began to tear apart at the seams, layer by layer, peeling away until there was nothing left but a single gold-black seed.


    He turned back to Ethan, eyes widening slightly as he watched him work. The armor practically reverberated with the amount of power he was channeling, and there was a purity and stability to it that was different from any other type of Firmament he''d encountered. Many Integrators were stronger, certainly, but their power was wild and unchecked.


    This was a steady beam of Firmament that barely even wavered despite its density. Gheraa wasn''t sure he could pull that off, even if he was just working with third-layer Firmament. Ethan was controlling all that power like he''d been born with it, and the way his core was built¡ª


    The gold-black seed of the boss monster''s core promptly exploded, interrupting his thoughts. Gheraa found himself just staring at Ethan as the world slowly faded back into normalcy.


    "Gheraa," Ethan said. Gheraa blinked, forcing himself back down to reality. Mostly. He watched as the armor Ethan was wearing abruptly dissolved, leaving behind a very disheveled but very human man standing in front of him.


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    Even then, he looked a little different. Gheraa wasn''t sure how. His physical appearance was mostly the same, although his clothing had definitely seen better days. Both the sleeves were torn off, and there were gaping holes in the fabric. But everything else...


    Maybe it was just his presence. There was something about Ethan''s core that was almost magnetic¡ªGheraa had never felt anything like it. The world itself bent toward him in slight, barely-noticeable ways; he felt real in a way that Gheraa hadn''t encountered except from seventh-layer Integrators.


    "Gheraa?" Ethan prompted again. "You okay?"


    "Um," Gheraa said. This was new for him. Not that odd, magnetic stability to Ethan''s core¡ªthat much, at least, he''d witnessed before in Lhore and other seventh-layer Integrators¡ªbut he wasn''t used to being at a loss for words. What was he even supposed to say? Ethan had just channeled enough power to eradicate a maximum-rank monster. For him. "Damn."


    "Damn?" Ethan quirked a brow at him.


    "Damn," Gheraa repeated. "That was kind of hot."


    Ethan blinked. There was a long silence. He glanced back at the scorch mark on the ground where the dungeon monster had been.


    "...What was?" he asked. "Please tell me you''re not talking about the Hand."


    "I was talking about the way you evaporated it," Gheraa clarified, though he felt like this wasn''t helping his case.


    There was a long silence.


    "Can you do it again?" he added.


    Ethan stared at him. "There isn''t really another one of those just sitting around for me to blast," he pointed out.


    "Oh." Gheraa felt like he was starting to understand what that human foot-in-mouth saying was all about.


    Fortunately, Ethan seemed to take pity on him. The Trialgoer shook his head and laughed, expression softening into a smile. "You know, I''m somehow entirely unsurprised that you''re into dramatic displays of power. It''s good to see you again, Gheraa."


    He paused, then added dryly, "Even if I have a lot of questions about how you''re here."


    "You know me! I''m all about the drama," Gheraa said cheerfully, privately relieved by the change in subject. He hesitated, then spoke again, this time with a little more sincerity. "It''s good to see you too."


    With the boss monster destroyed, the remains of his Firmament were getting to work repairing the walls of the dungeon. It was strange to watch what was essentially his own soul doing all this.


    Or his own corpse, depending on how you looked at it. Now that was a sobering reminder of the situation they were in.


    "We should find somewhere safe to talk," Ethan said. "Not sure how long it''s going to be before the dungeon spawns more monsters, but I''d rather not trigger them if the spawns are going to be corrupted."


    "Right." Gheraa tried to gather himself¡ªit was difficult, but he was doing it, even if he couldn''t quite take his mind off the image of that solid beam of Firmament¡ªand nodded in the direction of the portal. "We have a lot to talk about."


    "You''re telling me," Ethan said, his tone now a touch amused. "Speaking of which... Ahkelios, Guard, this is Gheraa. Gheraa, Ahkelios and He-Who-Guards."


    "I was wondering when you''d introduce us," Ahkelios said as he popped up beside Ethan. He grinned at Gheraa. "Nice to finally meet you."


    "You are one of the Integrators," He-Who-Guards said. Gheraa couldn''t quite figure out what to make of his expression. "A rebel, as I understand it."


    "And proud to be one!" Gheraa swept himself into a dramatic bow. Now this was territory he was more familiar with. "You''re right, we should leave. Allow me to escort you fine gentlemen to the exit portal."


    Besides, then he wouldn''t be standing around in his own corpse next to the remains of a monster that still made him uncomfortable with its familiarity. Why was that thing so familiar, anyway?


    "Is he always like this?" Ahkelios whispered to Ethan.


    "Just go along with it." Ethan whispered back. "It''s a coping mechanism."


    Gheraa pointedly pretended he didn''t hear either of them. It was not a coping mechanism.


    Before they left, however, he made sure to pick up the coat he''d left folded by the portal and pull it back around his shoulders, letting the sleeves flutter behind him for dramatic effect.


    Again, not as a coping mechanism. He just liked it that way.


    <hr>


    It took a few minutes for the four of them to get settled somewhere outside the Intermediary. Gheraa was almost immediately fascinated by the forestry on Hestia¡ªhe''d never actually stepped foot on an Integrated planet. The paperwork required to get that kind of approval was too much work for him.


    Besides, no one actually got approved for it unless one of their elected Trialgoers was being particularly stubborn.


    The point was, he''d never stepped foot on a planet like this. There was wood here. And trees. And dirt! So much dirt.


    He didn''t really like the dirt. Or the insects that were buzzing about the place. How did Ethan stand this?


    "Must we sit here?" Gheraa muttered. "Isthanok is nearby, is it not? Surely there''s a palace we could lounge in."


    "Not sure I want to risk bringing an Integrator into a populated city just yet," Ethan said dryly. "Word will get out. Unless you have skills you can use to hide yourself?"


    "I do. What do you take me for?" Gheraa sniffed, but deflated a little as he thought about wandering into any of the Great Cities. "Though it may be for the best that I remain outside Isthanok for now. I would rather not be found by the Trialgoers. Or by Teluwat."


    Ethan tilted his head. "You''re worried about Teluwat?"


    "I''m made of Firmament," Gheraa said. "And much as it offends me to admit, I''m also weaker than I should be. Certain types of Concepts are particularly damaging to me and my kind, and Teluwat''s abilities are rather heavily reliant on them."


    "Huh." Ethan frowned slightly. "Makes sense, I guess. Actually, that might explain that monster back in the dungeon."


    Gheraa scowled. "Viral Concepts," he said. "A plague to Integrators."


    "You don''t think Teluwat had something to do with that?" Ethan asked, frowning.


    "No," Gheraa said immediately. "He can do a great many things, but infecting a sixth-layer dungeon? Not even Integrators can interfere with dungeons this much."


    Ethan nodded slowly, his expression troubled. "So something else caused that," he said. "Something intruded on the dungeon. And I''m guessing that has something to do with why you''re back. Not that I''m not happy to see you, but... what''s going on here, exactly? How are you alive before I''ve even brought you back?"


    Gheraa hesitated.


    There wasn''t any reason for him to lie here. And he wasn''t planning to! But he felt... nervous, oddly enough. Probably because, in all the eons he''d lived, he''d never really felt like he owed anyone anything. He''d never relied on anyone else, had never been part of a team¡ªeven with Ethan, all he''d been doing at first was pull the strings.


    This was different, wasn''t it? The Heart had entrusted him with a mission, and now Ethan and his friends were trusting him to give them answers.


    It felt strange. Different. Like they were treating him as part of their team, even if they''d only just technically met.


    He didn''t dislike the feeling.


    "The Heart brought me back," Gheraa admitted after a moment. "But she said she was only able to do it because you manage to bring me back at some point in the future. Something about a minor paradox. So, uh, thanks for that, but also please still actually do it at some point in the future."


    Ethan smiled slightly. "It''s the least I can do. And not that I''m not grateful, but why would the Heart do that?"


    "She said I have to give you a warning," Gheraa said, and then he hesitated again. Would telling Ethan about this anger him?


    No. Ethan wasn''t Rhoran.


    "And I think I figured out what she wanted me to warn you about," he added. "I found it exploring my¡ªexploring the dungeon."


    "Found what, exactly?" Ethan asked. Ahkelios and Guard leaned in, equally curious.


    Gheraa sighed. "Information. To be specific, information about something called the Sunken King."

 208 — Book 3, Chapter 67 — The Sunken King

    It takes only a few minutes for Gheraa to go through the magnitude of what he''d learned. Ahkelios, Guard and I all exchange glances as he describes the legend of the Sunken King and everything he was supposedly involved in. The more he speaks, the more things click into place.


    A startling number of things, actually. I was hoping for some answers, but even painted as vaguely as it is, this single missing piece holds the answer to a dozen possible connections. Maybe more.


    Ahkelios is first to speak, voicing what I''m pretty sure we''re all thinking. "So we all agree that that''s obviously Kauku, right?" he asks. "I mean, he showed up out of nowhere to ask Ethan for a favor, he can clearly do whatever he wants with the Interface, and he keeps calling Ethan his Heir."


    "He keeps doing what?" Gheraa asks.


    "It fits," I admit. I''m not sure how that thought makes me feel. "I''ve got the same Truth, and the whole Anchoring thing kind of fits with the legend. I''m not sure if that''s what we should be focusing on, though."


    "Yeah, I''m more worried about everything else this implies," Ahkelios says, getting up and beginning to pace. "Doesn''t this mean he created the Interface?"


    "It sounded to me as though he may have been responsible for the creation of Firmament itself," Guard says. "Though the tale is imprecise. It is possible he only created the Interface, as you say."


    "That''s even worse!" Ahkelios complains. "We''re supposed to fight something that created Firmament? We use the stuff!"


    "Excuse me," Gheraa says. "What was that about being his Heir?"


    "We use it, but so does he," I point out. "If Guard''s right, the whole reason they made Firmament is because it''s a more robust system of power and growth than... whatever they had before. We''re not at an inherent disadvantage just because we use it."


    "Yeah, we''re just at a disadvantage because of everything else," Ahkelios grumbles. He glances between me and Guard. "At least pretend this is shocking or something. I feel like I''m the only one here that''s surprised."


    I laugh a little at this. Ahkelios is wearing the sort of petulant expression that works when he''s a couple inches tall but looks strange on him when he''s taller than I am. It works to lighten the mood¡ªeven Guard seems amused.


    "I''m just trying not to get caught up in how bad it sounds," I say. "I''m worried too, don''t get me wrong, but... we need to focus on countermeasures, on what we can do, and on what changed. Kauku was at least pretending to be an ally before now. It doesn''t make sense that he''s changing his mind before even getting what he wants. Why do all this, and why do all this now?"


    "Maybe he figured out a way to get what he wants faster," Ahkelios suggests. "Or maybe whatever we fought just now was someone else."


    I frown slightly, considering the thought. "Like Gheraa said, there shouldn''t be anyone else around capable of messing with the dungeon like this," I say slowly. I glance at the Integrator in question, though he''s looking more than a little put out. "What do you think?"


    "At this point I feel like you''re messing with me," Gheraa says, folding his arms across his chest.


    I can''t deny that I was doing it a little. "We''ll get you caught up after this, I promise," I say. "And in my defense, you messed with me a lot worse when I first joined the Trials."


    Gheraa pauses, then smirks. "A fair point," he concedes. "You were far less impressive back then."


    I raise an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?"


    "You decide!" He gives me what I assume is supposed to be a winning smile, then ruins it by leaning on his cane and nearly falling over; he scowls at the dirt that shifted beneath his cane. "Are you sure you don''t have a spare palace?"


    "I don''t keep spare palaces in my back pocket, Gheraa," I say with a snort. "Now, the question?"


    Gheraa sighs dramatically, but straightens a moment later, his expression settling so abruptly it''s like a switch was flipped. "It would be quite irregular for any other presence on Hestia to be able to interfere with a dungeon," he says. "If the Integrators are cut off from the planet as they appear to be, then I would not expect anyone other than this Sunken King to be able to interfere with the soulrot produced from my death."


    "Soulrot?" The word makes me frown.


    "A term for the decay of a practitioner''s soul," Gheraa explains. "Where their life and experiences leak into the world around them."


    "...Should I be concerned that yours was a maze?"


    "It was incomplete!" Gheraa says defensively. "And my soul is mine to judge, thank you very much. Let''s get back on topic here."


    Well, he''s right about that, at least. I think back through my experiences in the recent loop, wondering if there''s something I''m missing. To my surprise, it''s He-Who-Guards who speaks up first.


    "There was interference within First Sky," he says. "This is not the first instance of dungeon interference we have encountered, even if this was more... direct."


    "Was that Kauku too?" Ahkelios asks.


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    "No," I say slowly. "I had to trigger an Inspiration mid-fight and he helped us fight the Abstraction. Not that I''m taking anything he says at face value, but I get the feeling the change in behavior came after. Something must''ve happened."


    "The warning you received," Guard surmises, and I nod.


    "Don''t let it reach Kauku," I recite. "I don''t think I was going to be able to stop it anyway, considering how Paradox Warning works, but we still don''t have any idea what it is. All we know is that it apparently reached Kauku sometime after that last meeting."


    I hesitate for a moment. "There was that last message I got from him," I say. "Back when the Hand showed up. He said..." I pull the notification out from the Interface to check. "This may be the last time you hear from me. Know that I wish you the best, despite our differences. Good luck, O Heir Mine."


    Ahkelios blinks. "Did he seriously send you that while you were fighting that thing he sent? Can he not decide what side he''s on?"


    "I think it might be a little more complicated than that," I say, frowning at the window. "If he had the time to send messages, then I''m assuming whatever changed wasn''t immediate. Obviously I''m taking a lot on faith at the moment, but¡ª"


    I stop mid-sentence as I realize that Gheraa has gone entirely still, and the grip he has on his cane is suddenly so hard that I sense tiny cracks forming in its Firmament. "Gheraa? Are you... alright?"


    "Can''t be," he mutters. I''m not sure he even heard what I said. "Can''t be. We don''t do that anymore. And he wouldn''t agree to that. Would it even work?"


    "Gheraa¡ª"


    "He wouldn''t," Gheraa half-snarls the word, rounding on me; the golden lines of Firmament on his body flare briefly as he does, midway toward forming a defensive matrix before the makeshift shield makes contact with my wrist and suddenly collapses. I eye him carefully, my hand halfway toward his shoulder.


    Both Guard and Ahkelios flinch, then take a step forward. I shake my head slightly, tapping on the bond we share as a makeshift signal, and they glance at one another before relaxing.


    Gheraa sags. "I thought I wouldn''t have to deal with him anymore," he says quietly. He doesn''t move away, so I move my hand the rest of the way to his shoulder, feeling the erratic flickering of his Firmament.


    "You know something," I say, and he nods slightly.


    "I thought something about the... you called it the Hand?" Gheraa asks. I nod.


    "Hand of an Empty Throne, Corrupted. Or so the Interface claimed." I watch Gheraa carefully as I speak; he flinches slightly the moment I say the word "corrupted."


    "What an original name," he snarks, although his heart doesn''t seem in it. "Yes. I thought something about it seemed familiar at the time. I was unwilling to consider the possibility, but given all the details you''ve shared, I have little cause to doubt this now."


    "And what is it, exactly?" I ask. Gheraa glances up at me, then to the hand resting on his shoulder; I make to pull away, but he shakes his head. He seems... grateful, for some reason.


    "You will recall that I said that Integrators, as creatures of Firmament, are particularly vulnerable to certain Concepts," he says. "Material beings like humans have physical forms to anchor them. We do not. We are our cores, our souls, or whatever word you choose to use to describe the essence of Firmament. You could say we are a Concept unto ourselves¡ªone that shapes our form and Firmament.


    "In some ways, this is a strength. When an Integrator wields a Concept, it is the purest expression of that Concept''s power. We can make it a part of us in a way that few others can. In other ways, it is a weakness: we can be corrupted, altered, or turned against ourselves if infected by a Concept that runs counter to our beings.


    "There is a third possibility. An old, forbidden practice." Gheraa hesitates. "We can invert the relationship between Concept and Firmament. That is, in our conventional state, we are beings of Firmament that embody a personal Concept; if we invert that relationship, we become a Concept with a will of its own¡ªone that corrupts and consumes Firmament.


    "A parasite of Firmament, in other words. A thing that barely resembles the Integrator it originally was. A lot is usually lost in the process¡ªwe have to give up our cores, channel everything we are into a single idea. But the resulting entity is nearly impossible to kill, no longer hampered by physical boundaries, and capable of infecting and corrupting nearly anything that relies on Firmament."


    There''s a long silence that stretches out as Gheraa finishes his explanation. He doesn''t look any of us in the eye. It''s easy enough to guess exactly who he thinks did this, considering what the Hand was shouting the entire time we were trying to kill it.


    "You had a supervisor," I say. "You think this is them."


    Gheraa nods, still not looking up. "His name is¡ªwas¡ªRhoran. If he''s managed to infect this Kauku, the Concept he chose probably lines up closely with Kauku''s goals. Hatred or Revenge, or... or something."


    I take my hand off Gheraa''s shoulder and push myself to my feet. "I''m kind of relieved, honestly," I remark.


    Gheraa does look up, then, his expression somewhere between befuddled and outraged. "How can you say that?"


    I hold a hand out toward him. "Well," I say. "For one thing? I don''t have any idea how to deal with Kauku''s goals and the revenge he wants. All that stuff with the gods of Imagination and Expansion are way outside my wheelhouse." I pause, then amend the statement slightly. "For now. But some petty tyrant that''s just mad that you''re better than him? That I can deal with."


    Gheraa blinks, the outrage falling away. He looks at my proffered hand, hesitating. "More importantly," I continue, smirking slightly at him. "To be honest, with everything that''s happened with the Integrators? I was getting kind of worried I wouldn''t get a chance to kick this Rhoran''s ass."


    The Integrator¡ªor former Integrator, I suppose¡ªblinks again. Then he slowly takes my hand, allowing me to pull him to his feet. "Thank you," he says quietly. For once, there''s no trace of the showmanship he wears as a cloak. This is as genuine as he gets.


    I nod at him, then turn back to the others. "Alright!" I announce. "We have a few more things to figure out, but we''ll do it on the way. I know where we''re going next."


    "To kick Rhoran''s ass?" Ahkelios supplies eagerly. I laugh.


    "No. Dungeon''s still closed, and we don''t even know how to get to him," I say. "But he''ll find us, and we can''t slack off in the meantime."


    "It will take time for us to learn how to fight together more effectively, as well," He-Who-Guards adds. "We have grown, which means we will need time to adjust."


    "Not to mention we''ve got a fourth fighting with us now," I muse. That''s a whole other angle to the problem I''ll have to consider¡ªa way for us to make time.


    "Oh," Gheraa says. I blink at him.


    "Oh?"


    "I just remembered." He looks a little awkward. "The Heart gave me a message to pass on. She said you should head to the Quiet Grove. She left a gift for you there."


    Huh. I suppose that changes things.


    "To the Quiet Grove it is," I say.

 209 — Book 3, Chapter 68 — Home Away From Home

    There are a few more loose ends I need to tie up before risking a reset, which means I spend most of the trip interrogating Gheraa and trying to understand the intricacies of the loop. He''s a lot more free with information now that he doesn''t have to hide what he''s doing from the rest of the Integrators, but it''s also surprising to me how much he doesn''t know.


    "We have no idea what''s causing the Anomaly," he confesses when I try asking about it. "It doesn''t match any event in any other Trial that I know of. Hestia is the only planet that''s reacted negatively to the Integration process." He frowns a little. "Though it''s not the only Heart to try fighting back."


    "Sounds like the planets don''t like being Integrated," I say mildly. Gheraa is silent for a moment before he nods in reluctant agreement.


    "Integration gives the Interface control over the planetary Heart," he says. "It is not a pleasant process for them."


    I can imagine. I say nothing in response to this, though Ahkelios and Guard both exchange glances with one another. Ahkelios in particular I can sense is itching to ask about what happened to his planet; the only reason he hasn''t is because he''s waiting for me to be done.


    I gesture for him to ask. May as well get it over with.


    "Do you know what happened to my planet?" Ahkelios asks immediately.


    Gheraa frowns at him. "Which planet is that?"


    I wince. Somewhat predictably, Ahkelios looks offended. "Yotun," he says, and his expression falls when there isn''t even a flicker of recognition in Gheraa''s face. "You don''t know, do you?"


    "I cannot possibly know the status of every planet that has been Integrated," Gheraa says defensively.


    "Do you know what your people are doing to these planets?" Ahkelios demands. "You could at least do the courtesy of remembering!"


    I consider stepping in, but something about Gheraa''s expression stops me¡ªthe defensiveness melts away into a mixture of guilt and resignation, and when he speaks again, it''s... well, it''s a start.


    "As you have already surmised, the threat of planetary destruction when we first begin Integration is a lie," the former Integrator says, his voice a little quieter. "Planets destroyed in the process of Integration are few and far between, and every Integrator knows of them. I do not know the exact status of Yotun, but I can assure you it still exists."


    Ahkelios''s relief is palpable through our bond. He nods at Gheraa, not yet forgiving him but still appreciating the response.


    I probably should have considered this possibility. Ahkelios and Guard may have been on board with my mission to bring Gheraa back, but he''s still an Integrator. He''s part of the species responsible for the uprooting of their entire lives. As much as he''s done for us, they only really have my word to go on, and I can tell they don''t entirely trust him yet.


    For me, trusting him is a simple, binary choice¡ªone I made the moment I saw what he''d done for us. For them... well, hopefully fighting together will help, but I suspect this is the type of problem only time can remedy.


    Ironic, that.


    "Gheraa," I say. He looks up at me, still tense. "I need to know what you know about the loops. What''s going to happen when we reset? Both you and Ahkelios aren''t really supposed to be here. Ahkelios used to be a product of Temporal Link, but now he has his own fully realized body. You''re a walking paradox. Neither of you exist at the start of the loop. What''s going to happen if I die? Or if Ahkelios dies?"


    "Um," Gheraa says, evidently thrown by the sudden change in topic. Some of that tension bleeds away, though, and he seems thankful to have something else to focus on. "I''m not sure? Wait, hold on."


    I raise an eyebrow at him. He huffs indignantly. "Wait," he says. "I''m thinking!"


    We walk in silence for the next few minutes. Gheraa curses every so often when he steps too deep into mud or stumbles into a branch¡ªhe does not seem used to existing in a physical environment, and more than once I catch him waving at a tree as if he can dismiss it from existence with a thought.


    Ahkelios nudges me, looking nervous. "You don''t think I''m going to die, do you?" he asks worriedly. "If the loop resets, I mean."


    "As if I''d let that happen," I say, nudging him back.


    Guard makes an agreeing sort of hum. "I would not allow this, either," he says. He sounds surprisingly sure of himself¡ªthe phase shift and the soulbond have both done a lot for him, it seems.


    "I''ve got it!" Gheraa announces. I blink and turn to him only for him to immediately walk into a tangle of vines.


    Somehow, he ends up both restrained and dangling upside down. His attempts at waving his cane around only serve to tangle him up further.


    "You need help over there?" I ask, amused.


    "No," Gheraa says stiffly. He pauses. "Maybe."


    "Can''t you burn these away with your Firmament?" I ask, reaching up to pull him free.


    "Well, yes," he admits. He dusts himself off the moment I manage to free him enough for him to land on the ground, looking affronted by the dirt that managed to get on his coat. "But then I would be doing a poor job of acclimating. Imagine if I vaporized a door instead of opening it!"


    "I feel like you know how to open doors," I deadpan. I can''t entirely fault the logic, though. It makes a certain practical sense.


    At the same time, though... I eye him for a moment. I''m pretty sure a good amount of his clumsiness has been genuine, but this one feels deliberate. Gheraa doesn''t quite meet my eyes, which only confirms my suspicions.


    I don''t say anything about it, though. We''ll have plenty of time to talk in the future. In the meantime, if nothing else, both Ahkelios and Guard seem cautiously amused.


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    "You were saying?" I prompt. Gheraa takes a moment to come back to himself.


    "Oh! Yes." He twirls his cane and then plants it into the ground. "I am reasonably certain that a reset will cause a metastable tumor to form within the temporal boundary of the loop."


    "In plain terms, please."


    Gheraa sighs dramatically. "A reset will put both me and your friend into a stable version of the Tears I''m sure you''ve encountered by now. All we have to do is break out. Or you may have to break us out. One or the other."


    "And you believe this because?" I ask.


    "This," he says, gesturing to Ahkelios and himself, "is the first time entire beings external to the loop have been introduced to it after its inception. But it is not the first time an object has been introduced to the loop. In the first few iterations of this Trial, dungeons and Hotspots would both reward physical objects to the Trialgoer that completed them."


    "I''m guessing there was a problem with that," I say dryly. Gheraa''s explanation reminds me of the Chromatic Threads I received from the first Hotspot I completed¡ªI still haven''t really had the time to practice using them, and without practice they''re so impractically deadly that I''d more or less forgotten about them.


    Now that I think about it, though, Guard fights with his chains in the same way I''d like to fight with the Threads. Maybe he can give me some tips? It feels like a waste not to use them otherwise.


    "Firmament, like energy, can neither be created nor destroyed," Gheraa says, catching my attention again. He shoots me a dirty look. "You should be aware that placing objects within the Empty City for preservation was not an intended use of the dungeon portal. Every loop iteration costs the Interface a fraction of its Firmament to preserve those objects."


    "Unfortunate," I say, not meaning it at all. The well-being of the Interface isn''t high up on my list of priorities. Gheraa seems to recognize this, because he just smirks a little at my words.


    "It was a clever workaround," he allows. "Something we''ll likely patch out in the next Trial¡ªwell," he frowns, correcting himself. "Something the Integrators would patch out. If there was another Trial."


    He shakes his head. "This is beside the point. Because Firmament cannot be destroyed, a new object existing within Hestia''s temporal boundary causes a Tear to form. That Tear preserves the object into the next loop. The same should happen to me and your friend."


    "Ahkelios," Ahkelios supplies, narrowing his eyes slightly. Gheraa pauses.


    "Ahkelios," he amends. The mantis nods in satisfaction.


    "In other words, you''re pretty sure you''re both going to be inside a Tear, but you don''t know how easy it will be to break out from the inside," I muse. "Do you know where it shows up?"


    "Near the loop anchor''s spawn point," Gheraa says immediately. "That''s you."


    "Good to know." I nod in satisfaction. Getting them out shouldn''t be a problem, then, assuming they can''t get out of it themselves. That''s one major worry out of the way. "You don''t think Ahkelios getting his Interface back will complicate things?"


    There''s a long pause. When I turn to look, Gheraa has stopped in his tracks and is staring at me. "He has what?"


    I pause. "...Maybe we should catch you up on things while we walk," I suggest. Now that I think about it, he has missed a lot. Especially if his memories of being a dungeon are foggy, which they appear to be.


    Gheraa nods slowly. "That... sounds prudent," he manages.


    <hr>


    It takes a while before Gheraa figures out how to speak again once we get him caught up. In that time, we decide that whatever we find in the Quiet Grove, we''ll use the opportunity to take a break as well¡ªin part to give Gheraa a moment and in part because... well, because we need a break.


    We''re all feeling the effects of battle after battle, escalation after escalation. As much as we''d like to throw ourselves headfirst into the next problem, the more we talk about everything we''ve been through, the more we realize how much we need to take some time to ourselves.


    Evidently, the planet itself recognizes this, because when we arrive, we see that the Quiet Grove has changed. It''s as quiet as ever, but miniature cabins sit in the middle of the grove.


    Four of them, in fact.


    "Not just a gift for me, then," I say. There''s a part of me that''s worried that this is a trick, but the closer we get, the more sure I am that this is in fact the Heart''s doing. There''s no hint of foreign powers or interference here¡ªjust a thick fog of temporal Firmament that sticks to each cabin and hovers over the grove. A hot spring, of all things, sits in the middle.


    Her way of helping us, I suppose. Or maybe her way of telling us we need to take a break. Time itself is dilated here, and my read of the Firmament here tells me that it''s stretched enough for us to spend days here with only an hour passing outside.


    Maybe it''s safe to rest properly for once.


    "I''m going to go process everything you just told me, and then I''m going to barge into your cabin with a number of questions," Gheraa tells me. Then he walks off without another word, claiming the rightmost cabin and shutting the door behind him. I watch him, a little bemused.


    "I think perhaps we should all get some rest," He-Who-Guards says, a little more measured. "I must speak with Aris and determine what she wishes to do."


    "I''m going to train," Ahkelios announces. "Or sleep. Maybe both!"


    I chuckle and watch them head into their respective cabins. I pick the last one and blink at the room that greets me. It''s nothing alike, but at the same time, the way everything is placed...


    It kind of looks like my old room. On Earth.


    I take a few steps in, closing the door behind me and breathing in the scent. It smells like fresh wood¡ªnothing like home¡ªbut a wave of nostalgia washes over me nonetheless.


    There''s a photo frame by the dresser, but no photograph in it. I pick it up, frowning slightly.


    This used to hold a picture of my family. Instead, there''s a note.


    "Hi Ethan!" it reads. "We don''t know why you asked us to build all this, but we owe ya, so here you go! Hope you like it. Lots of people helped! Even Bimar, even if she grumbled a lot. And some big bird guy? Also an old bird guy. And a scary bird lady. And a different scary bird lady, but she''s not as bird-like. Hey, do you know a lot of birds for some reason?


    "Thaht says I gotta stop rambling. Okay, uh, training! We have some training facilities we built according to the specs the scary AI lady gave us. She says it should work with the Interface and it''ll get you prepared for the Fracture, which is confusing, because I thought you already¡ª


    "What do you mean I''m not supposed to¡ª


    "I am not writing down everything I''m say¡ªokay, no, I am. Force of habit! Anyway, we hope this helps? A lot of people are here and want to sign this, but apparently that''s not okay either and I wasn''t supposed to write some of the stuff I already wrote. Oops."


    The handwriting abruptly changes.


    "We hope this helps, Ethan. Do what you need to do, no matter what that is. We''ll be with you."


    Two signatures at the bottom. Thys and Thaht, scrawled messily across the note. I chuckle a little at the phrasing, but more importantly...


    This isn''t just a resting spot, huh? It''s something Hestia brought forward for us. Something I''ll apparently ask the kobold brothers for in the future.


    I glance at the trapdoor in the ground. That''s definitely not in my original room.


    "Sounds like a lot of people are counting on me," I muse out loud. Strangely enough, for once, I feel confident about it. Not angry, scared, or lost.


    I know who I am now. And the Sunken King¡ªKauku, Rhoran, whoever is in control and whatever name he goes by?


    He''ll just have to learn.

 210 — Book 3, Epilogue 1 — Hopes and Dreams

    Gheraa wasn''t used to this.


    Not the act of existing in realspace, though that was certainly strange in and of itself; the straight lines and square rooms of his home were nonexistent here, and the purity of Firmament he was used to was nowhere to be found. A part of him rebelled against it¡ªyearned to apologize to Lhore and to be accepted back amongst the Integrators¡ªbut a much greater part of him reveled in it. Delighted in the thought of what they would think of him if they saw him now, cavorting and befriending the so-called lower lifeforms of the galaxy.


    He was even getting used to the dirt. He didn''t like it, exactly, but he was getting used to it. That was something, right? He could hold it in his hand without shuddering now.


    All that was... different. But it wasn''t what took the most getting used to. That honor was taken by Ethan and his friends.


    Gheraa had never been able to let his guard down before, at least not to this extent. Integrator culture was competitive. Any interaction was a display of social dominance, every fight a battle for the right to exist. It was a necessity for their growth and evolution, or so the upper echelons claimed, and yet he''d never felt like he belonged.


    In fairness, he wasn''t sure he belonged here, either. Ahkelios and Guard treated him with respect, but he could tell they didn''t entirely trust him, and he couldn''t blame them. Ethan was the only one that seemed to look at him without judgement.


    Sometimes, he was afraid that would change. He tried not to think about that too much.


    "Hey, Gheraa?" Ethan called, knocking on his door. Gheraa flinched for a moment before he remembered himself and coughed, opening the door and putting on a beaming smile. At least, he assumed it was a beaming smile? Ethan seemed to interpret it just fine, but Ahkelios seemed a little creeped out by it.


    "What is it?" Gheraa asked.


    "Can we talk for a moment?" Ethan gestured inside, and Gheraa blinked, hesitantly stepping aside and allowing the human in.


    "Of course," he said, with perhaps a little more doubt than he''d intended. "What about?"


    "I just want to know," Ethan said. He leaned forward, a slight furrow in his brows. "What do you want out of all this?"


    "What... do you mean?" Gheraa asked. Mostly to stall. He knew what Ethan meant, he just didn''t know how to answer.


    Ethan seemed to realize this, too, because he just raised an eyebrow and waited. After a moment, Gheraa sighed.


    "I don''t know," he admitted.


    Half of this he''d done on a whim. He''d known bringing Ethan into a Trial would interfere with the Integrators and their plans. He hadn''t anticipated how much, and more importantly, he hadn''t anticipated...


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    Well, he hadn''t anticipated caring.


    He wanted the humans to succeed now. He wanted Ethan to succeed. Even wanting something was a new experience for him, in all honesty; he''d spent so much of his life simply serving the cause that he didn''t know what to do with things like personal desire.


    "This is your fault, you know," Gheraa grumbled.


    Ethan blinked. "What is?"


    Gheraa gestured to himself. "This," he said. "I don''t even regret sacrificing myself, you know that? Do you know how out of character that is for me? I''m all about the show! I''m not supposed to care about what happens to my charge, but you just had to be..." He made a frustrated gesture. "You know! You."


    "I don''t know what that means," Ethan chuckled, amused. Gheraa let out an aggravated sigh.


    "You noticed," he said. "Do you know how many people notice when I''m hurt? No one. I''m very good at hiding it. You had the nerve to ask me about it."


    "Is that so bad?"


    "I don''t know!" Gheraa threw his hands up in exasperation¡ªa decidedly human gesture, but how else was he going to communicate his frustrations? "And I don''t know how to answer your question. I don''t know what I want. I want to help you, I guess."


    "And after that?" Ethan asked.


    After that. He said it like it was so easy¡ªlike he would succeed and that would be that. Gheraa couldn''t even imagine what a victory for Earth would look like. Would the Interface even still exist? Would the Integrators?


    Would he?


    Gheraa sighed again. "I''ll have time to figure it out, won''t I?" he asked quietly, leaving his uncertainties unspoken. Ethan watched him for a moment, expression unreadable.


    "True enough," he allowed. "I just wanted to make sure you know you''re a part of this team. And that means what you want matters, too."


    "You are infuriatingly nice," Gheraa muttered. "But¡ª" he struggled for a moment. "Thank you."


    "You''re welcome," Ethan said simply. "Now, about my core..."


    Gheraa groaned. Ethan had been absolutely relentless on this matter, asking him questions about cores and phase shifts on a near-daily basis. Truth be told, Gheraa barely had any idea what Ethan had done with his core; the only thing he knew was that it felt similar to seventh-layer Integrators that had broken through the sixth-layer bottleneck. It was incredible. It was also bizarre.


    But he steeled himself to answer the questions anyway. He enjoyed this process now, strange as it was. All these years and he''d never once really enjoyed being a practitioner of Firmament. It was just a means to wield his power. Helping Ethan figure out whatever it was he''d done was the first time he''d actually played around with it, stretching both himself and Ethan''s capabilities in ways he hadn''t known was possible, and it was¡­ nice.


    Funny word for it, that.


    <hr>


    The days passed. Gheraa eventually came to admit that this experimentation with Firmament was some of the most fun he''d ever had with his skills. And this was in spite of the fact that he was weaker than he could ever remember being¡ªall their experimentation had shown that he was at most equivalent to a fourth-layer practitioner. Presumably either his death or the form of resurrection had struck a blow of sorts to the foundation of his power.


    There were times, though, where he felt his core tremble in a way he wasn''t used to. He tried to tell himself it was nothing. Just another side effect of the way he''d been brought back.


    Yet he didn''t miss the fact that it happened not when he experimented with Firmament, but when he spent time with Ethan. Sometimes, though more rarely, it happened when he spoke with one of the others. He had no idea what it was or any way to find out, so he did what he could not to dwell on it.


    Intead, he found himself going back to that question Ethan had asked him.


    What do you want out of all this?


    He didn''t know. Not yet.


    But he did realize at least one thing: he wanted to find out.

 211 — Book 3, Epilogue 2 — Names and Roles

    He-Who-Guards had known this question would come eventually. He¡¯d even been ready for it. What he hadn¡¯t been ready for was¡­ well, himself. He¡¯d thought it would be a quick and simple explanation, and instead he¡¯d been sitting by the campfire for the past hour and a half, trying to decide on an explanation he thought was satisfactory.


    His answers, it turned out, didn¡¯t even satisfy himself. Did he still want to go by He-Who-Guards? He-Who-Protects felt like it described him. The name was him, in a manner of speaking.


    ¡°I do not feel ready,¡± he finally explained, frowning at himself even as he said the words. It still felt like it wasn¡¯t enough.


    ¡°Just let us know when you¡¯re comfortable,¡± Ethan said, studying him. He seemed to sense that he wasn¡¯t comfortable talking about it, at least. Ahkelios didn¡¯t quite have the same sensitivity.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Ahkelios asked. ¡°I hope it¡¯s not because you feel like you can¡¯t live up to it. Because you are! You have been.¡±


    Guard couldn¡¯t help but smile a little at his friend¡¯s reassurance, at least. ¡°It is not that,¡± he explained. ¡°There is a lot that ties me to this name. I do not feel ready to move on.¡±


    He didn¡¯t even know what had happened to Whisper. He couldn¡¯t be sure that she was alive, but he couldn¡¯t be sure that she was gone, either. It felt like there was a chapter of his life that hadn¡¯t been closed yet.


    Part of him also just liked the way He-Who-Guards sounded more. Was that a foolish reason not to change his name? Silverwisp society would dictate that he do so, and yet¡­


    Well, he wasn¡¯t exactly beholden to them. None of them would even recognize him in the body he was in.


    ¡°I was just curious if you wanted us to,¡± Ethan said. ¡°But whatever name you¡¯re comfortable with, you know?¡±


    Ahkelios opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again when Ethan nudged him, looking mildly embarrassed. Guard chuckled.


    ¡°Call me Guard, at least for now,¡± he said warmly. It was good to have friends like these, he decided. ¡°I will inform you if and when I am ready. Otherwise¡­ I know who I am, and that is enough.¡±


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    Ethan nodded. He stood up from the campfire, stretching. ¡°Sounds good,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m going to turn in for the night, I think. I¡¯ll see you two¡ª¡±


    ¡°Ethan,¡± Guard said. Ethan froze. ¡°You will be awake at six in the morning this time, yes?¡±


    Ethan sighed. ¡°Must we adhere to this schedule?¡±


    ¡°If you wish to learn to fight with your Chromatic Threads as I do with my chains?¡± Guard asked. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± he said. Ahkelios snickered at him, and Guard reached out to flick his arm.


    ¡°You will be needed as well,¡± Guard said sternly.


    Ahkelios groaned.


    <hr>


    Guard found it strange, in truth, that Gheraa opted not to join them when they had their little campfire talks. He supposed he didn¡¯t mind it, exactly, but at the same time, he wondered if he needed to push a little harder.


    With anyone else, he would have. With an Integrator¡­


    He frowned at himself. He could not use that as an excuse forever. No, he would ask Gheraa to join them tomorrow. Ethan had tried already, but it was likely that Gheraa needed to hear from one of them, and Ahkelios was less likely to ask between the two of them.


    For now, he had two things to do tonight, as he did every night.


    The first was to check up on Aris. She had uploaded herself into the proxy servers in Isthanok not long after their arrival in the Quiet Grove; fortunately, her processing speed meant they could communicate in more or less real-time, even with the time disparity between the Grove and Isthanok.


    ¡°You are doing well?¡± Guard asked.


    Aris didn¡¯t exactly roll her eyes, but she did send him a file that contained exactly that impression. ¡°Guard, you do realize that you¡¯re basically asking me this every fifteen minutes?¡±


    Guard paused. ¡°I did not consider the time disparity,¡± he admitted after a moment.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m looking into the projects Whisper left behind and anything that might tell us about where she is now,¡± Aris said with a sigh. ¡°I will update you when I have news. Please stop contacting me. I mean no offense by this, but you aren¡¯t my dad. Get a child of your own if you want to parent someone.¡±


    The connection closed. Guard didn¡¯t react for a long moment.


    Something about what she said had resonated with him in a way that was¡­ disturbingly painful. In a way that was real. He didn¡¯t know what to make of that, and after a moment, he forced himself to move on.


    The second was Ethan¡¯s Void Inspiration, which had not stopped pestering him ever since it had discovered the quantity of Firmament he possessed. He didn¡¯t mind feeding it. Part of him wondered if his soul would have deteriorated so much if he¡¯d had something like this to begin with.


    One of these days, Guard thought, he would need to speak to it and understand what made it tick. Perhaps make Ethan speak to it, too. For all his strengths, the human still had his faults; this was one of them.


    ¡°Here you go, little one,¡± Guard said quietly, feeding it a thread of Firmament. It chomped eagerly around it.


    Even this made him feel a deep sense of loss. One that had nothing to do with the Firmament he was losing.


    He just wished he knew why.

 212 — Book 3, Epilogue 3 — Long Way From Home

    Ahkelios didn¡¯t quite know what to make of the cabin he¡¯d picked.


    Part of that was the fact that it was apparently designed specifically for him, despite the fact that he¡¯d chosen it pretty much at random. It wasn¡¯t like the cabins looked different from the outside. The first time he stepped into it he¡¯d almost forgotten to breathe; the whole place ached of¡­


    Well, it ached of home. And it had been a long, long time since he¡¯d been home.


    It was oddly difficult to get used to. In a way, he felt like he was obligated to love it the way he had his old home. The mess of scattered canvases, paints, and ceramic planters had always been a comfort to him back then. Every time the laboratory became too much¡ªhe¡¯d enjoyed his job, but it could be demanding¡ªhe¡¯d take a day or two off to sit and paint and be with his plants.


    Now, the idea of doing that felt¡­ foreign. The idea of taking a break felt foreign, really. And he was so far removed from the person he¡¯d been back then that it felt more like a painful reminder of what he¡¯d lost than a place of home and comfort.


    Ahkelios sighed, glancing ruefully at the note he¡¯d found taped to the bedside table. Ethan had worked hard to give him this, apparently, in some distant future. A part of him was touched, and a part of him felt guilty that he didn¡¯t appreciate it the way he felt he should have.


    Then again, if he¡¯d truly disliked living here, he would have told Ethan before they got this whole cabin built in that hypothetical future, surely? Maybe there was a reason he hadn¡¯t.


    There was a chance he could learn to connect with his home again, here and now.


    He¡¯d tried, over the past few days, to engage with his old hobbies again. He painted a somewhat messy painting of the crystalline shards of Isthanok, floating over the city. He transplanted some of the smaller saplings and plants from the grove into his planters and watched them grow.


    Ahkelios didn¡¯t dislike doing those things, but it wasn¡¯t the same.


    ¡°Maybe it doesn¡¯t have to be?¡± he asked out loud, testing the words.


    They felt right, somehow. He¡¯d changed. As important as this had been to him, it stood to reason that what they meant to him had changed, too.


    That perspective changed things for him. Between training sessions, he spent his nights trying new things¡ªexploring what he wanted to paint, studying the various plants and fungi available to him in the Grove. He brought out the Chromatic Roots Ethan had given him what felt like ages ago and began to perform the many experiments he¡¯d planned but never had the time to execute. He watched some of the more esoteric flowers scattered around the Grove, recording how they drew on the Firmament around them.


    Slowly¡ªso slowly he almost didn¡¯t notice¡ªsomething within him began to relax. He understood, on some level, why he hadn¡¯t told Ethan to try something else. He¡¯d needed this. Needed to figure out all over again what home meant to him.


    When he did, well¡­ There was a secondary benefit, of sorts.


    The training simulators inside the Quiet Grove were integrated with the Interface in a way that should have been impossible; it was a miracle of engineering, to say the least. One Ahkelios was pretty sure any one of Hestia¡¯s Trialgoers would literally kill to have access to.


    In short, the simulations triggered whatever mechanism the Interface had to calculate and reward credits. Which meant all their training wasn¡¯t just about learning to use what they already had: they could develop entirely new skills and earn whole new Inspirations.


    Ahkelios found that the more he connected with his old self, the more the skills he rolled for varied.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    This latest roll, for instance. He held his breath as the Interface dinged and a list of skills appeared in front of him.


    [137 credits banked! Rolling for results¡­]


    [Select between:


    Bristleblade (Rank B)


    Rapid Redirection (Rank B)


    Herbal Heritage (Rank B)]


    He was still getting some sword-related skills; it was hard to get away from that, and he didn¡¯t really mind these days. Ahkelios hummed as Inspect flooded his mind with information, then made his selection.


    [Herbal Heritage (Rank B) obtained!]


    He had plenty of combat skills already. It¡¯d be interesting to see what he could do with some support-related ones.


    Besides¡­


    Ahkelios grinned to himself. Ethan¡¯s face when he made him drink his concoctions would be hilarious.


    <hr>


    ¡°Ahkelios,¡± Ethan said, exasperated. ¡°How many skills do you have now?¡±


    ¡°A lot,¡± Ahkelios said smugly.


    They were training. Dueling, really, in a little underground area set aside specifically for this type of thing; the air was thick with defensive Firmament so that no blow could be truly fatal, although if any of them really tried it wouldn¡¯t be hard to break through that protection.


    None of them tried, of course. Getting badly hurt for a training exercise was hardly worth it, especially since they weren¡¯t planning on resetting the loop until the Fracture. Presumably, something would happen there that would force a reset. Ahkelios was optimistic they¡¯d get through it, but Ethan wasn¡¯t.


    ¡°Oh, I like this one!¡± Ahkelios said brightly. He brandished his blade and cut, activating an F-rank skill called Brightblade; the air flashed brightly, and Ethan made a startled noise as he was temporarily blinded¡ª


    Ahkelios frowned as his sword came to a stop. The light faded away, and he saw that Ethan had¡­ caught the blade. It took Ahkelios a moment to realize that there was a thin loop of thread around the human¡¯s fingers.


    ¡°That¡¯s not fair,¡± he complained.


    ¡°First of all, that was rude,¡± Ethan said, blinking the light out of his eyes. ¡°Second, I have Firmament sense. I still know what you¡¯re doing, goofball.¡±


    Ahkelios had, admittedly, forgotten about that. ¡°You¡¯re getting too comfortable with the names,¡± he grumbled.


    ¡°Does it bother you?¡± Ethan raised an eyebrow. If he said yes, Ahkelios was pretty sure Ethan would stop¡­ but he also didn¡¯t want to admit that he liked it.


    ¡°No,¡± he said, which was about as far as he¡¯d go. ¡°And you still gotta give me credit for trying!¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± Ethan said, hiding his smile and beginning to circle him. Ahkelios grumbled, then searched through his skill list again, hoping to find something that might help.


    He¡¯d gotten quite a number of lower-level skills, figuring that he wanted the breadth of options Ethan didn¡¯t have. The only reason he¡¯d stopped was because Gheraa had warned him against it.


    Which was weird, and Ahkelios didn¡¯t fully trust him, but¡­ Ethan did. Gheraa hadn¡¯t even fully explain why he shouldn¡¯t stock up on hundreds of skills; he¡¯d just looked uncomfortable and said it was bad for his core.


    To be fair, that seemed correct. He only had a couple dozen and it felt kind of cramped in there. Ahkelios would¡¯ve been trying to move for the fourth layer already if not for the fact that even Ethan hadn¡¯t quite figured it out yet, and Gheraa¡¯s guidance on that matter had been¡­


    Well, Integrator methods of phase shifting didn¡¯t match those of lesser beings, apparently. Though Ahkelios was the one inserting that phrase. Gheraa hadn¡¯t actually referred to any of them that way. Point was, they were in largely uncharted territory. Ethan¡¯s instincts were correct, as far as any of them could tell¡ªhe needed to use Soul Space to stuff his soul with a large quantity of realness¡ªbut what that meant was anyone¡¯s guess.


    He¡¯d tried filling his soul with plants. It was uncomfortable and hadn¡¯t helped. They weren¡¯t¡­ compatible with him, for lack of a better word.


    Anyway. Ethan was waiting. He needed to find something.


    Oh! There was something he hadn¡¯t tried yet. Triproot! Ahkelios used it, and a small root coiled out of the dirt and around Ethan¡¯s ankle¡ª


    ¡ªonly for Ethan to step forward like nothing was there and deliver a blow that sent him flying.


    Ahkelios groaned.


    That stupid Physical pool Ethan had made stopping him difficult. Honestly, he was glad they were on the same team.


    Now if only he could figure out all that nonsense Ethan was telling him about the stats. The meditative thing hadn¡¯t worked. He¡¯d tried. No matter how much he told himself that Strength was actually Force, nothing in the Interface changed. Even Gheraa didn¡¯t know what to make of what Ethan had done, although when he learned about it he¡¯d adopted a contemplative expression and muttered something about seventh-layer Integrators.


    Oh well. He could always try something else. Ahkelios bounced back up to his feet, glad the training arena dulled the pain from the blows they exchanged, and darted at Ethan once more.


    ¡°You¡¯re cooking later if you take a hit, by the way!¡± Ahkelios announced.


    Ethan laughed. ¡°If you say so.¡±


    Ahkelios grinned. He¡¯d get a few blows in eventually. He always did.


    Especially when he made that announcement, which he thought was a little odd.