Borderland E-Book

T. B. Mare

• Herausgeber: Podium Publishing
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Stranger Than Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 626

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

A young man finds himself trapped in a nightmarish realm beyond belief in the second installment of this action-packed LitRPG/gamelit series. Lukas Aguilar used to think he knew everything. Mainly because he believed only what he could prove for himself. No gods, fate, or any such nonsense for him. But that seems like a lifetime ago. Because when an earthquake destroyed his earthly home, he suddenly found himself in a dark dungeon world where gods and monsters are all too real—and supreme goddess Inanna had taken up residence in his mind. Upon learning the rules of his new existence—levels, skills, abilities—Lukas fought his way from victory to victory. That is, until he came up against an anomaly that got him killed (at least for a month or so). When he finally reawakes, Inanna is gone, and his own powers have increased exponentially. But that victory comes at a cost. Now Lukas finds himself in a borderland, beyond the reach of the Asukan Gods and rife with ever more lethal paths. They may lead him to Inanna . . . or to his ultimate demise . . . or to ancient secrets that could shatter the very foundation of this world. The only thing that's certain is any path he chooses will result in a whole lot of death and destruction. The second volume of the hit LitRPG adventure series—with almost a million views on Royal Road—now available on Audible and wherever ebooks are sold!

Leseprobe

BORDERLAND

STRANGER THAN FICTION

— BOOK 2 —

T. B. MARE

To all those who supported us on this fantastical journey,

your unwavering belief and encouragement propelled our story to new heights.

We are eternally grateful for your presence in our lives

and the strength you bestowed upon us.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without prior written permission from Podium Publishing.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2023 by T. B. Mare

Cover design by Podium Publishing

ISBN: 978-1-0394-4080-7

Published in 2023 by Podium Publishing, ULC

www.podiumaudio.com

CONTENTS

Prologue

Part I: Trial by Contact

Chapter 1: A Confusing Rebirth

Chapter 2: Slime of the Living Metal Also Cat

Chapter 3: New World Citizen

Chapter 4: Demigod

Chapter 5: Elena

Chapter 6: Olfric’s Woes

Chapter 7: Touring and Trespassing

Chapter 8: Trial by Combat

Chapter 9: Conflict of Secrets

Chapter 10: The Hand that Feeds You

Part II: Whispers of the Fallen

Chapter 11: Freedom to Fall

Chapter 12: The Borderlands

Chapter 13: Divinity

Chapter 14: A Pair of Rule Breakers

Chapter 15: Warmonger

Chapter 16: Storm Unsealed

Chapter 17: Bets on the Battlefield

Chapter 18: The Shimizu’s Stance

Chapter 19: Stories from the Stranded

Chapter 20: Legacy

Chapter 21: Memories of Ice

Chapter 22: Frozen Nightmares

Chapter 23: Trade of Secrets

Chapter 24: Igniting Divinity

Chapter 25: Inanna

Epilogue

Bonus Story: For Want of A Friend

Preview: Fimbulwinter

About the Authors

PROLOGUE

Death in this forsaken place could come in many forms. From the ever-constant stormy clouds raining lightning upon the terrain to the icy chasms and crevasses lying in patient wait for the unfortunate trespasser that wandered in, this place had it all. Trapped amid several mountain peaks, it was a living nightmare.

Ultaf had spent most of his adolescence here, trained in the arts that allowed him to wear the mantle of the Lord of the Shimizu, and yet, nothing could prepare him enough to set foot inside these barbarous walls again. As his four igriotts pulled his sledge across the tundra, the canines suddenly slowed, looking skyward.

“What is it?” Ultaf asked, stepping off and glancing at the storm clouds above. They had begun to rotate, and he knew exactly what that meant. Tornadoes were a fact of life in the Northern Dominion, but up here, they held an altogether different meaning. He could hear the igriotts howl across the ridges, followed by a roar of thunder that sounded weirdly musical, like the after-tone of some vast gong.

He’s awake. That’s … good, I suppose.

The rest of his thoughts perished as his igriotts whined again, looking around warily.

He couldn’t blame them. They had reached the outer periphery of the Peak. From this point on, even the very air would be hostile to them unless they had permission to breathe it in.

“Do not worry,” he calmed the canines, crouching as he caressed the thick fur above their ears. “I’ll have to make the rest of the journey alone.”

Ultaf stood up and looked at the surrounding mountains. There were 361 checkpoints within the Peak’s peripheries. Every single one of them had restrainers on duty, along with beasts at their command. Ultaf had seen igriotts, abominables, and even some himthursars here, all of which were magically enthralled to serve as protectors of the Peak, utterly committed to destroying anything that stepped within this dominion without permission. Even the Wind would fight you—aeromancer or not. All of this savagery around called on his instincts to flee this place and never return.

Don’t trust your eyes. Don’t trust your instincts. The path is safe, Ultaf repeated inwardly.

Pouring lifeforce into his feet, Ultaf shot through the black rocks amidst the ice, stamping his way through vegetation, crumbling rocks, and … bones. The ground was littered with them, courtesy of the man-eating monstrosities guarding the area. Every breath, every step, every rasp of bones rubbing against one another, multiplied into a thousand echoes that almost seemed to grow louder than fading away. The black ice walls shone in the Eternal Light, the ever-present whirlwind making it difficult to see ahead, but Ultaf kept moving.

He had to reach the Peak. He had information to share. This couldn’t wait.

He emerged from the outer gates into the courtyard. The insides of this sprawled-out fortress were bleak and beautiful in their simple symmetry. Every room, every chamber was built into the very mountain itself, with stairs leading inside cavernous corridors and open spaces. The courtyard was flat, smooth, dark ice, and at its center, a single spire rose from the ground and pierced into the mountain peak above it.

This place was the highest point in the entire Northern Dominion, and somewhere deep within these crevasses was the infamous Shimizu Well. A portal that connected to a vicious borderland filled with aerial, eldritch monsters. And Ultaf was here to meet the most dangerous monster among them all.

Son of the Wind King.

The Shimizu Warlord.

And his own grandfather, Mujin Shimizu.

The sounds of igriotts growling brought him to a pause. With steady, mist-filled breaths, Ultaf waited as five restrainers, with an igriott and an abominable in tow, shimmered into existence. Even in the surrounding blizzard, he could spot that two of them were wearing gray wristbands, projecting their ability as aeromancers.

“Trespassers are not welcome on this land,” said one. “Walk away.”

Wasn’t that a surprise? He’d have expected them to attack first, ask questions later. Had they somehow recognized him? No, that wasn’t it.

He removed the covering from his face. “I’m Ultaf, prince of Shimizu.”

Technically, he was the lord, but here he was still a prince. Those at the Peak only accepted the command of one man, and Ultaf was not him.

“Prince,” the man bowed instantly, and the other restrainers took a step back. “They did not inform us of your arrival.”

“I need to meet Grandfather. I come with news.”

“But—”

Ultaf eyed him. “He did not know of this. Time flies, and it’s urgent. Where is he?”

“At the mountaintop.” After a momentary hesitation, the restrainer added, “I should warn you that the Beast is awake. To traverse to the top in such conditions is … not recommended.”

Ultaf snorted. That was an understatement if he had ever heard one. The Beast was a reference to his grandfather’s kami, a gargantuan winged demon that he had only heard tales of. He remembered seeing clouds of power circling around his grandfather, creating a radius so intense that just stepping inside it was enough to obliterate anyone. A world of pain that Mujin Shimizu could manifest into this mortal world, thanks to the impossible power of this monstrosity.

And to think, there could be something greater than that.

Closing his eyes, he spoke. “Sigrun, fly.”

A surge of mana erupted out of him, forging a mini whirlwind around him. His feet left the ground, and he shot upwards. Within minutes, he had crossed the Peak and stood on the black-iced mountaintop.

And winced.

Across the length of the terrain, his grandfather’s sheer presence drew the eye with a terrible fascination. He sat cross-legged, levitating in midair, an orb of pure power surrounding him. The eye of the storm. The soft, bluish light emanating from the haze that was his power bathed the icy crust below. His presence was a kind of weight on Ultaf’s mind, a gravity that strained space around it and could not be ignored. It was utterly magnetic and yet fundamentally repulsive at the same time. His power burned, an existence far older and deeper and deadlier than anything he had known. Compared to that power, even Sigrun felt little more than a transient breeze.

And rising above his grandfather was a gigantic outline. A maw that could swallow an entire city in one go. Claws that could slash mountains apart. This wasn’t a kami. This was—

“Ultaf.” His grandfather’s voice tore through his thoughts. Even from a distance, he could hear it—baritone, deep, and thrumming with power. The very air felt alive with it.

“Grandfather.” He took a tentative step forward, shielding himself from the wind. “I bring news. Cyffnar located some readings from the Desert. We sent a party, and they reported a powerful anomaly. Lord Straff was pleased. He wanted to get an edge before we were bound to report it to the Empire, so he hired professionals to loot it during the period of the Black Moon Rising.”

His grandfather closed his eyes. “I have no time for your despotic nonsense, boy.”

Had it been anyone else, Ultaf would have trapped them inside a circle of pure void for calling him that, watching as their bodies imploded like so much waste meat. But when his grandfather said it, all he could do was try his best to remain firm and not flinch. To the world, he was the lord of Shimizu, but here, he was little more than a child who had just learned that there was a monster beneath his bed.

“This—this will be worth your time. This can change … everything.”

Grandfather opened a single eye. The force of will that condensed on him in that one movement would have instantly killed a lesser man, crushing his mind into something too dense and inert to function.

“Then speak your fill and be gone.”

“After the Waning concluded, I visited the Desert.” Ultaf shuddered. “It was … terrifying. Just like the myths. Dreary. Burning rays of sun in the day. Pitch-black demonic shadows beneath my feet. And that horrible, evil darkness—”

“You are wasting my time, boy.”

Ultaf flinched. Maintaining control wasn’t easy in his grandfather’s presence, not even with Sigrun’s power flooding through his veins.

“The adventurers found a rare form of featherglass inside the anomaly. An incredibly pure form. Purer than the Emperor’s crown.”

That caused Grandfather to pause for a moment. “Purer than … ”

“The Emperor’s. I checked. It’s not a fabrication.”

“Where is this anomaly?” Grandfather asked. “Featherglass that pure would have an inestimable number of applications.”

The wind orb around him dissipated and the elderly man stood on the ground on steady legs. “Tell me you’re already harvesting all the featherglass out of it?”

Ultaf swallowed and shook his head. “That … is no longer possible, Grandfather.”

The winds blew faster, harsher, a manifestation of the man’s fury.

“Why?” he asked. Silent, composed.

“Someone massacred our troops during the Black Moon. When I visited there after the Waning, all I found were the destroyed remains of the camp. Someone went in there and killed most of them.”

“Who?”

“A girl. Blonde-haired.”

Grandfather tilted his head slowly, studying him. “Few in the kingdom can trounce an entire battalion. And a girl, you say?”

“Yes. An aeromancer. This girl decimated tents with a single blast. Took out the entire battalion, without a single wound.”

A psychic pressure erupted out of the man, making it hard to breathe. It was dense and horrible and reminded him exactly why he hated interacting with his grandfather.

“So,” the man heaved, “the creature lives.”

Ultaf took a step ahead. “And she has Ezzeron.” His lips twisted in derision. “Father would be so proud!”

He uttered the word “Father” like it was the vilest curse imaginable.

“Do not delude yourself!” Grandfather snapped. “Ezzeron was lost to the very winds during that … incident. She has never been able to bind with it. You know that.”

Anger flooded through his veins. It gave Ultaf strength to stand up before this man he had a healthy fear of.

“Then tell me this, Grandfather,” He nearly snapped, “Can an ordinary kami massacre one of our battalions? She blitzed in, slaughtered them all, and destroyed the anomaly.”

“…What?”

“The anomaly,” Ultaf replied coldly. “It’s destroyed. Collapsed. There’s nothing inside. No featherglass. No monsters. Nothing. Except for—well, one issue.” He shifted his balance to his right foot. “The Core was undamaged.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Grandfather rebuked. “The only way to destroy an anomaly is to destroy its Core. The metaphysical potential returns to the Great Mother and punishes the doer with Sin. That’s the rule of the world.”

“Well, somebody’s ignoring the Rules,” Ultaf replied, feeling slightly courageous. He took another step. “The Core was untouched, but the anomaly collapsed. I’m—not sure what happened, but someone achieved exactly what you think is impossible.”

“And she’s an Aeromancer.”

He took another step forward. “She entered the Desert during Black Moon Rising. She found the army, infiltrated it, and massacred them all. They say she flew like the wind, struck like the storm. And then there is … this.”

He pulled a small contraption out of his pocket. Then he opened its lid, revealing a canister within. Inside that was a zigzag-shaped cluster of crystals. It was expanding throughout the canister, like thin tendrils of rime.

And it was crimson. As rich and dark as bremetan blood.

“Is that …?”

“Frost,” said Ultaf. “It was growing on one corpse. It absorbed every bit of lifeforce from the body, becoming large enough to encapsulate it. Frost that feeds on lifeforce. Does that ring any bells?”

Grandfather said nothing.

“She is out there,” said Ultaf, grinning through his eyes. “And she has Ezzeron with her. She had him all this time.”

“And the Frost—”

“It’s grown stronger.” Ultaf replied. “A power so staggering that it nearly caused the Great Goddess’s demise. A power older than this Empire. A power that can kill an anomaly without destroying its Core.”

“I searched around,” Ultaf went on. “There was another piece of news. Another anomaly, destroyed. No one knew how. The only evidence they had was one girl, laden and dripping with Sin. Blonde hair, lithe figure. Aeromancer.”

His eyes glinted as he extended his hand due east. “She’s out there, experimenting. And she has Ezzeron and the Frost. So, I came here to inform you I’m going to the Llaisy Kingdom. To find her. To meet my long-lost sister.”

“No.”

Ultaf paused. “…No?”

“No,” Grandfather exhaled, as power whirled around him so fast that it was practically tangible. “I cannot afford any mistakes here. This time, I’ll do it myself.”

PART I

Trial by Contact

CHAPTER 1

A Confusing Rebirth

I

t

b

u

r

n

s

The unleashed wave of power rages through him. The inky blackness stains his mind like a curse. His life is ephemeral compared to the surrounding eternity.

It’s not there.

She’s not there.

Who is she?

His vision is painted black. How is he able to perceive?

His torso—what happened to it? Melted down? Probably.

He does not feel. He does not see. He does not hear. All he does is say: “In—a—nn—a—”

He’s trapped. A plague of insects is trying to devour him all at once. Or is it the heat?

He recalls the ghol. Or was it the bat? It seems like something from another life.

—It burns.

The heat melts his mind. The power is great. Slow. Fast. Terrible. Impossible. The tide crashes against him, shattering him.

Yet he re-forms.

He’s remade.

He’s destroyed.

Remade.

Destroyed.

The cycle continues forever.

—It’s burning.

—It’s burning.

—It’s burning so much that he might just—

“You cannot die, mortal. If you do, you will break your word.”

It’s—

He remembers the voice. Does he?

Yes, he does. But then, why can’t he remember her name?

Her?

He knows it. He knows it. HeKnowsItHeKnowsItHeKnowsIt—

If he can remember the name, everything will be fine. Everything will be fine. Everything will be—

But he doesn’t. He cannot recall her name. But he has to do it. He has to.

“Be the Invader.”

He has to call her. Else she will disappear. He knows this, and from the bottom of his heart, he wants her to stay, for she is—

“Be the Conqueror.”

He needs to reach her. He can’t reach her.

He hears her voice. But she is too far away.

He can’t see her. He wants to see nothing else.

He can—

Light.

He can see the Light.

She is disappearing into it.

“Be the Tyrant. and do not forget, you made a promise.”

A promise.

He raises his hand. It touches empty air.

There is nothing left in him. There is more energy than he can use in a hundred lifetimes.

The dichotomy is tearing his reality. Mortal, yet divine. Fragmented, yet whole. Human, yet anomaly. He’s—he is changing.

Changing.

Becoming. More.

He has knowledge that isn’t his.

He has memories that aren’t his.

He has skills that aren’t his.

“I—”

His heart burns, but the pain does not lessen. He stands, his body scorching in the light, created and destroyed in every fraction of every second.

He takes a step forward.

The power slams into him.

Another step.

Then another.

And another.

The light—he has to reach it.

His hand stretches out and he yells—

“INA—”

…

…

…

“NNAAAAA—”

Lukas thrashed himself awake, screaming a scratchy, hollow scream that made little more noise than a whimper. Breathing hurt, yet all he could do was sob.

He lay there, naked, undone, his right fist stretched upwards, trying to grasp the emptiness above him. Breathing came first, and he forced himself to control it, to stop the racking sobs, and to draw in slow, steady breaths. Next came the terror. The pain. The realization of what had happened. What he had lost. He wanted to crawl into a hole and pull it closed behind him. He wanted to not be.

But he was. He hurt too much. He was painfully, acutely, very much alive.

He was lying on the fabric. Soft fabric.

He was in bed.

Wait.

How did he get in bed? When had he fallen asleep? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t even recall where he was, or the last time he ate, either.

His throat was tight and burning, as if he had swallowed an entire mug of boiling coffee. His legs felt like someone had switched them for dense lead bricks. He had the same arms he always had, but fewer of them. His belly twisted as if he had been working out for a long time.

It was almost a surprise he hadn’t started crying again. But he just didn’t want to die. Or find himself back in that darkness.

“Ah,” came a familiar voice. “You’re awake.”

He lifted an arm and rubbed his coarse, gummy eyes. Something was odd. Like there should have been a baby elephant sitting on his chest but wasn’t.

Weird.

Lukas opened his eyes.

He pushed himself up and glanced around the room. It was … large and empty. Light pink was clearly the default color scheme. Pink curtains, pink rug, pink furniture. Even the beds and lights. The bed he was in was big enough to fit four people. King size? Queen? He didn’t know. A second bed lay next to his, with neatly arranged pillows and covers. A large ornate mirror hung on the opposite wall, next to an equally ostentatious dressing table and a lavish wardrobe.

This was a girl’s room.

“Do you like it?”

Language Identified — Ualbesh

Replicating …

Lukas blinked and turned towards the source of the sound.

A lovely young woman close to his own age stood before him. High cheekbones gave her an aristocratic look, with exotic, almond-shaped blue eyes. Her silvery blonde hair was pulled back into a single ponytail, and she wore a boy’s shirt.

He recognized her.

“You … ” Lukas croaked, his voice rough and unfamiliar. “You’re—”

“Tanya,” she said, pointing a single digit at herself. “Do you know who you are …?”

“Lukas,” he automatically responded. Tanya. He remembered the name. Tanya. Blonde. Frost. White. Tanya. Promise. Tanya. Asukan. Wind—

“I remember you. You—” Lukas broke into a coughing fit. “You—you tried to kill me.”

The blonde sported an amused smile. “Yes. You tried to kill me, too.”

“You—you tried to kill—”

“Yes, yes.” She casually waved it off as she sat down on the bed. “We’ve tried to kill each other multiple times in the past, but we’ve also fought together to destroy the anomaly.”

Anomaly?

Crypt of Fiendish Worms

Now he remembered.

“You—” He tried speaking again, but getting the word out was too much for him in this state. Lukas fell into another coughing fit.

“Drink something first to wet your throat.” Tanya fetched a cup of water and pushed it towards his trembling lips. “Speaking will be easier.”

He supported it with his shaky hands and drank from the cup.

“Do not overexert yourself, mortal.”

The cup slipped from his grip.

“Shit!” Tanya exclaimed. With a quick wave of her hand, she raised the cup, and the spilled water was suddenly levitating in midair. A casual flick vanished the water, while she caught the now-empty cup with her other hand. After filling it up again, she raised it to his lips.

How did she do it? Aeromancy, his mind supplied. Lukas gratefully accepted her aid. But that other voice he’d just heard … Who was she?

Inanna?

He called out into the void that was his mind.

Inanna?

Nothing responded. No quip. No condescending response. Nothing. Only cold, brazen emptiness.

“Any better?”

He slowly nodded. “I remember you. You’re Tanya.”

She smiled. “Yes, I introduced myself. Just now.”

“No, I mean … ” His head swayed. “I recognize you.”

“Do you remember what happened to you?”

A frown rose to his lips. “I did something to the anomaly. I think I was dead? I was—”

“What else do you remember?” Tanya asked, curiosity clear in her voice.

“Empty. I recall feeling … hollow.”

I will find you.

His last words. To Inanna. A big promise, but ultimately meaningless. She was gone. He had lost her. Their one chance to get things right had failed spectacularly. He was alone in this alien world. His all-knowing, all-powerful goddess was gone.

No matter the consequences.

Lukas gave a pain-filled groan as he held the sides of his head. It brought him a momentary respite against the sense of acute loss that was drowning him.

“Guess you’re still healing.” She sighed. “Lie down for now.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re at Zuken’s mansion. Well, one of them anyway. It’s difficult to tell with that guy,” she answered with the slightest bit of exasperation in her voice, taking the cup from his hands and placing it on the dresser. “You weren’t breathing, but you still had lifeforce and mana coursing through your body. We didn’t know if you were dead or … and then suddenly, after a month, you took a breath.”

A month. He was dead for a month? Why did that sound so familiar?

Instinctively, his fingers found their way to the pendant.

“Ah, that thing.” Tanya gave it an intrigued look. “I don’t think I noticed it on you when we first met.”

An ice-cold shiver ran down his spine.

“…You can see it?”

Tanya arched an eyebrow. “Was I not supposed to?”

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. The shiver went down his throat, spread through his chest, and made his heart quiver. Tanya could see the pendant. As could the others. That meant the Veil of Ignorance was no longer there. Inanna had cast that spell, and with her gone, it had faded. How long before the translation stopped?

“…Kas?”

What would happen to him? Without the ability to speak or understand this world’s languages, he’d be stuck.

“—even listening?”

They had his body for an entire month. Inanna was gone, and now—

“LUKAS?”

Her raised voice halted his inner panic. “…Yeah?”

“You have this—I don’t know—strange, angry look on your face.”

He schooled his features quickly. “Sorry. It seems the spell on it faded when I was—you know—unconscious.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” she replied. “There are some serious enchantments on it. We tried everything we could, but it wouldn’t come off. Olfric burned his hand in the process! We stopped trying after that.”

“It is my pendant,” he said.

He hadn’t meant for the words to come out that cold. That hard. The anger surprised him, but it still bubbled and seethed within him. Some part of him was furious at Tanya for tinkering with his pendant without his permission. It was his, his sole connection to Inanna and he’d be damned if he let this blonde bimbo and her merry band to mess with his—

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Pride. Possession. Territoriality. Those emotions, they weren’t his. What had caused them?

Tanya hadn’t reacted in any way, to his snarl, or his anger. She just studied him.

Lukas’s lips twitched. Obviously, his expressions had given away his innermost thoughts. Wordlessly, he composed himself. Hastiness would not get him anywhere. Inanna had used her divine powers to dominate Tanya back then. If nothing else, that was one card he had in his favor. There was no point in making a mess of things with her.

Inhale, he told himself. Inhale and exhale.

Inhale and exhale.

Slowly, he moved his right hand and rubbed his thumb across the surface of the pendant. The familiar azure sheen had faded, now replaced by a dull blue. And yet, the translation spell was active. How else would he be able to understand what Tanya was saying?

How long, though?

“Tell me, Lukas Aguilar, where are you from?”

“From Earth.”

“And that is a different world?”

“Yes.” He paused. “I … I think so. It’s a lot similar to this one, but there are some differences.”

Like the absence of floating Screens. Or quantized potential. Or monsters roaming around … unless, that is, you lived in Australia, from what he’d heard.

“What did you do back there?”

“I was a student. Of the law.”

“Are you here to kill me?”

Lukas stared at her.

“Are you here to kill me?” she repeated.

“No. No, I’m not.”

“What was the spell you cast back in the anomaly?”

He looked away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t.”

The words that left his lips sounded far sharper than they did in his head. He saw Tanya’s posture stiffen in response. After several tense seconds, she spoke again.

“Ugh, fine. For the record, we brought you back with us to Haviskali.”

Haviskali? Llaisy Kingdom, his mind supplied. Haviskali was the town on the western end of the Llaisy Kingdom, bordering the Desert of Namzuuhuu. A town in a different world. People that looked like humans but weren’t. Where magic existed, as did monsters and gods. He wondered what he’d tried to make of himself in this world, apart from gaining strength and trying to figure out a way to fulfill his bargain with Inanna. Did this world have practicing lawyers too?

So many questions. It was finally time to get all those answers. He should have been all hyped up.

Instead, he just felt cold.

Tanya rose from the bed. “I should let the others know that you’ve woken up and remembered.” She flashed him a bright grin. “Are you hungry? I can get you something to eat—”

“Leave me alone.” The words had left his mouth before consulting the rest of him. He tried to do damage control, but found Tanya staring at him, stiff as a statue, her face blank.

“… Sorry,” he apologized. His emotions were still running rampant. “I mean, I have a lot to process. Why don’t you give me some time before bringing the others?”

Tanya folded her hands in her lap and pursed her lips. On the surface, the expression seemed calm and controlled, but Lukas had the sudden instinct that she was concealing unease. It reminded him of their first interaction back in the crypt.

“Did something bad happen back there?”

He knew what she was talking about.

“Yes.”

“You look like someone who’s lost someone precious.”

Lukas lowered his eyes. “I did.”

Tanya stiffened. “I thought—” She paused, as if reconsidering her words gravely, “I thought you were all alone here, and there was always a chance that you’d—”

“Have to stay, yes,” Lukas replied. “I didn’t plan on things ending like that.”

“And who’s she?”

Lukas stiffened and stared up at Tanya, unblinking. “What?”

“I said who’s she?” Tanya paused. “The person you lost,” she clarified.

“I never said it was a woman.”

“You did actually,” she replied, the hard lines on her otherwise smooth face slowly easing, “Over the last week, you’ve been constantly murmuring about ‘finding her’ and ‘getting her back.’ Also, something about ‘promises’ and ‘bargains.’”

Lukas carefully did not move or answer.

“So, who’s she?” Tanya tried again. She sounded jealous. Almost.

There was another moment of stillness, before she spoke in a bare whisper, “I know how it is to lose someone precious to you, too. So if you want to stay alone for a bit, I understand.”

She stood a little straighter. “I’ll get you something to eat. You must be hungry.” She turned around and started walking towards the exit. She had barely crossed the threshold when Lukas surprised himself by speaking out.

“You worship the Asukan gods, don’t you?”

Tanya stilled. “Why do you ask?”

“Have any of your gods ever … died?”

She whirled around, eyes widened slightly. There was a growing wariness in her features. Like a cat about to bolt. She didn’t move for several heartbeats. Finally, a false smile appeared on her face, and her shoulders relaxed.

“…That’s a very strange question to ask, Lukas Aguilar.”

His brain started gibbering and running in circles as he struggled to think of an appropriate response. It was reckless and stupid of him to say that aloud.

“… Lukas?”

“… Sorry,” He looked away. “It’s nothing. Forget it.”

Tanya didn’t buy it for a moment but consented, anyway. “Sure. I’ll inform the kitchen you’re ready for some food.”

Translation: she was going to go inform the others about his latest slip-up.

Lukas returned a tentative smile. “… Sure.”

He needed to get up. Nothing would come from sitting and moping around. He had to get Inanna back. Preferably before his provisional allies acted against him, or worse, came after him like Solana and her ilk probably would.

Tanya spun around and walked towards the door, closing it behind her. He heard her footsteps slowly vanish. This was the time for action.

One.

Two.

Three.

Lukas threw the covers off him and jumped off the bed …

And promptly hit the ground face-first.

“Fuck!”

“Oh.” Tanya’s voice came from the doorway, utterly amused. “I forgot to mention. You have that metallic band stuck to your feet. Really, if you want to get up, you could’ve just told me.”

His face burning in a mix of shame and embarrassment, Lukas turned over and rested on his back, spotting the strange heavy presence on his legs, no doubt placed there to wound his pride. Why hadn’t he sensed it before?

Gods. He hated himself sometimes.

He paused and stared at the offending piece of garment on his legs. It was dark gray and placed right above his ankles, covering his knees. There was something incredibly familiar about it. Cautiously, Lukas forced himself up, touched the band with his arms, and—

Snap!

The band blurred into motion and literally jumped off him, condensing and contorting into dozens of metallic tendrils, writhing as it took shape. It shot up into the air, contorting itself mid-flight, into a strange blob-like figure. Its outer metallic surface shone malevolently as two shiny tendrils rose, ready to pierce him at the slightest display of hostility.

Lukas pushed himself back, fascinated and alarmed, watching the still-morphing blob swaying back and forth in the air, before dropping to the floor in a loud splat. A slime? Not that slimes were weak or anything. Given their ability to shape-shift and their monstrous strength, they were frankly nightmarish to face in combat.

But this wasn’t like the ones he’d encountered. This wasn’t a humanoid monster of a worm.

It was a blob.

A metallic, shiny blob.

He tried to extend his finger.

“No, don’t!” Tanya yelled.

Too late. The blob shifted again, but instead of striking, it rolled onto its back almost … lazily? Tiny tentacles wiggled out of its end, and Lukas scrambled backward, fearing retaliation.

It never came. Instead, a mouth tore itself open across its face. And with nothing short of utter malevolence, it opened its newly created maw—a lazy, dark tongue slithering out and sweeping across the floor—and spoke its first word.

“MEOOOOOW?”

CHAPTER 2

Slime of the Living Metal Also Cat

It was a sentient blob of aqāru. With a large, purple tongue.

And it was purring like a cat.

“Uh,” Tanya asked, “why is it purring?”

“No clue,” Lukas murmured, silently petting it. The thing swept its long, wide tongue out and licked his palm before rubbing its “face” against his skin and purring. No, he wasn’t imagining it. This thing was purring. It was a walking, talking, meowing mass of contradictions. Naturally, it fit right in place with all the madness that seemed to constantly be happening around him.

Inanna would have laughed her head off. And then made a sarcastic-sounding quip about vermin that was most likely entirely serious.

“Well?” asked Tanya. “What is it?”

Lukas smiled. “My new pet.”

“Does it have a name?”

His smile widened. “Its name … I think I’ll call it … Blob.”

“Blob? What kind of name is that?”

“A simple one,” he said. He knew what this metal was and how he had gotten it. And if his theories were correct then …. He grabbed it with his fingers, and Blob instantly twisted, forming a perfect copy of his dagger in less than a second. The length-to-weight ratio felt perfectly right.

And then it went right back to being a rather stylish pair of wristbands and latched on both of his arms. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I shouldn’t have known it would do that.

He paused and stared up at Tanya, who was gawking at him, unblinking.

“I swear I didn’t know it’d do that.”

“… Sure you didn’t.”

Her voice was laced with disbelief. Not unexpected. Not after what happened with the crypt’s Guardian.

He regarded Blob, now his armbands.

What are you?

Nexus Established

Accessory Confirmed

Reading Data …

A rush of images and alien perceptions sandblasted his head. There were flashes of processes in action, and images of monsters, both complete and in progress; images of featherglass crystals, their constituents forged by a power so intense and coherent that it had individuality and awareness. He saw the ponderous dance of the atoms and molecules, inorganic and organic structures, rearranged and twisted to serve the purpose of this alien awareness, and assimilation of not a hundred or thousand, but tens of thousands of monster prototypes—crafted or assimilated, ready to deploy or left incomprehensible; vast reserves of impossible soul information, whole and broken, and so much more.

Lukas fought to contain those impressions, struggling to see beyond this tumultuous wave. But the more he tried, the more he sensed its futility. It was like looking at the world’s greatest garbage dump. A disorganized mess without any structure or clarity. Information on modulating rock composition somehow became a blueprint of a species of moss. Knowledge on how to craft vatuatil lay smashed with stuff on netopyr goo.

It was like taking Wikipedia, randomly translating each line of text into a different language, shuffling it all, then trying to track down a single specific fact. The information was technically still there but finding it would be the equivalent of locating a needle in the world’s largest haystack.

And he didn’t have a magnet.

“It’s from that anomaly, isn’t it? That metal?”

“Yes.”

“Thought so.”

Lukas looked up at her.

“We thought the Guardian-monster had latched onto you. But it didn’t react to anything, so we assumed it dead and left it as it was.”

She wasn’t wrong. Not completely. This wasn’t the doppelgänger he had fought and tried to siphon at the end. This was—

The Crypt of Fiendish Worms itself.

Or whatever remained of it.

When a monster died within anomaly territory, its soul returned to the omphalos that created it, while granting a certain amount of Experience to the killer. The monster’s data was then reused over and over. Or maybe combined to make something else. Nothing was lost, only transformed from one state to another. Much like the law of the conservation of energy.

Omphaloi were no different. When the crypt’s omphalos was destroyed, all that information had to go somewhere. If a monster’s soul returned to its “mother”—the omphalos—then logically, the omphalos’s data must revert to its mother: the world itself.

Unless there was an alternative. A perfect recipient that was readily available for absorbing the spiritual data.

Like the aqāru.

An entire anomaly’s data, thousands of monster prototypes, jammed into a purring metal blob. If knowledge is power, then this is a fucking power station. Now if only I could learn to use it.

Analysis Complete

Rendering …

What he saw next sent him choking. Hard.

Type

Heteromorph

Constituent

Aqāru

Deciphering Spiritual Constitution …

Decoding …

Rendering Complete.

Nature

Conglomerate

Number of Skills

16159

Number of Monster Prototypes

Null

Information Corrupted

Sixteen thousand skills? Is this for real?

Reversing Corruption will require +597,531,354 units of power.

+47% chance of success.

Initiate Rollback Protocol?

No. No way. All that power for just 47% chance? And if I failed then …

No.

He scowled. He should have known. It wouldn’t be easy. He’d need to find a way to absorb power first. Capacitance was an option. Using it had attracted the Guardian’s attention. If he used it directly upon the world and if it treated him as an invader then …

He shook his head. Risk all that for a 47% success rate?No way.

“Where is your sense of adventure?”

He inhaled. That voice again.

He looked around.

Inanna?

And around.

Inanna?

….

No. It wasn’t her voice. Just—just what she’d say. He was hearing things. She was gone. She—

Lukas paused and waited. Maybe he’d hear it again?

He didn’t.

Disappointed, he regarded the Screen.

Command Acknowledged

Rollback Protocol Deactivated until further prompt from PRIME HOST

“… even listening?”

Lukas blinked and turned around. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked, what is it?”

“I told you. It’s my new pet, Blob.”

“I meant what kind of creature?”

“Oh. It’s … uh, a fragment.”

“Of what?”

“A greater whole,” he said, his eyes fixated on the sentient piece of metal on his arms. “But the ‘whole’ is a broken, disorganized mess, so this ‘fragment’ is being … erratic.”

“Are you being intentionally cryptic?” Hard lines appeared on her otherwise smooth features.

Lukas tilted his head up and looked at her. “When I killed the Guardian, I didn’t do it neatly. Part of it remained and latched on to me.”

“Oh,” she said. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

He blinked. “Should it?”

“It tried to kill you.”

“You tried to kill me, too. You don’t see me holding that against you.”

Tanya let out a quick breath that might have been hiding a laugh. She tried to grab for his hand, but then stopped midway at the sight of Blob and stood back straight. After a moment of reconsideration, she held her hand out.

“Come on. You need a meal and a bath.”

Lukas grinned and grabbed it.

The meal was a ripe assortment of saffron, green, and pink, with a healthy bit of what tasted like an exotic mesh of tomato salsa and avocado. Lukas put all of that on a large, round flatbread and rolled it up, a far cry from the meaty, greasy tacos he used to feed himself every morning back home.

He inhaled it within a minute.

Realizing that she had underestimated how hungry he was, Tanya gave him over half of her breakfast while she went to get some more.

It was gone before she got past the door.

Tanya took it as a challenge and raided the kitchen, returning with a monster-sized breakfast. There were a lot of soft grains in the main course, giving the plate a soft pink background, with another assortment of leaves, petals, and what looked like blue roots. The accompanying beverage was like a mix of milk with cinnamon and turmeric but carried a wild aroma that flared his nostrils.

This was enough to feed an entire party.

Lukas demolished it by himself.

“Huh … ” said Tanya, watching him continue to shove food into his bottomless pit. “I’m so glad I don’t have to pay for your meals.”

Lukas grinned. During his month of being dead, his body had had to survive on pure anomalous energy. Now that he was awake, it wanted the real thing.

Tanya watched him, amused.

“Got it all over my face?”

“It means you enjoyed the cooking,” she said, handing him a napkin. “It’s nice to see you come into focus.”

Focus. Yeah. That was one way of putting it. He had taken a nice, long bath earlier. His legs were still weak, and he needed her help to walk to the bathroom and back. He wondered if she had taken care of his bowel issues when he was unconscious but hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to ask her about it.

Some things were better left unsaid.

“I hope you haven’t gotten rusty. That would irritate Zuken.”

Lukas chewed silently. Zuken was a poor man’s Solana. Weaker than Ryu or Quonnan, but Tanya claimed he had some political power.

“I’ll manage,” he murmured, focusing on the blend of sweet and sour. And was that a bit of grapefruit he tasted?

Absently, he thought of his Schema.

SOULSCAPE

NAME

Lukas Aguilar

Type

Prime Host

Level

8

Experience

239

Current Threshold

2560

Utilized Soul Capacity

14979 / ∞

Mildly slurping through the beverage, his eyes wandered across the information displayed, absently marveling at the unfamiliar words his Schema showed. Nothing particularly interesting. Closing his eyes, he continued to drink with that tiny smile still on his face. Then he swiftly inspected the last line again.

And again.

Lukas choked.

Infinite. Soul. Capacity.

Totally missing the sour look from Tanya, Lukas stared at his Schema and scanned it thoroughly. Prime Host. Not Base but Prime. What changed? Were Inanna’s actions at work here? He had leveled up again. Not surprising. But infinite soul capacity? This was the perfect thing he needed to assimilate—

His expression soured.

Kinetomancy.

He wished he had a knife so he could repeatedly stab something with it.

“Something wrong?” she asked, unable to keep the sourness off her face.

Lukas didn’t blame her. He had accidentally spit in her food.

“Just … a cruel surprise. But no, it’s all good.”

And it was.

ESSENCE

Maximum Lifeforce Output

5075

Replenishment Rate

700 / hour

LEY LINE NETWORK

Maximum Mana Output

6325

Synthesis Rate

810 / hour

His lifeforce and mana had both grown significantly. The Level Up meant he was more efficient with his skills.

PRIME HOST

Unconditionally superlative among all Monster Prototypes.

Alpha Condition Raised to Maximum (Level 5), granting an absolute mind free from external influence from Monster Prototypes.

Amplified Resistance to mental intrusion and enthrallment.

Having an infinite soul capacity meant downloading monster prototype skills without limit. In a world where Soul Capacity and skills were everything, he might as well have been handed a Pandora’s box.

“You’re making that face again!”

Dammit.

“The others,” he said. “Where are they?”

The delight faded from her face, replaced by a serious calm. “I thought you wanted some time alone.”

“I did, but sitting on my ass won’t get me anywhere.”

“Well, Zuken’s out for some business, and he’s taken Elena with him. They’ll probably return tomorrow morning. I’m not familiar with Olfric’s whereabouts at the moment, since he’s usually away on jobs. Apart from the maids and the groundskeeper, I doubt there’s anyone else inside the mansion.”

“And you stayed behind to play nurse?”

“Someone had to take care of you. Among all of us, I know you best.”

Which is true, Lukas mused.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What happened after I fell unconscious?”

“I think you mean dead,” she said. “We saw the discharge of raw power. Whatever you did, it was powerful. It nearly buried us alive. We only had enough time to grab you and escape. At first, we thought you were dead. Banksi almost buried you. Then your heart started beating again. It was … ”

“Spooky?”

Tanya chortled. “You should’ve seen Olfric’s face.”

“I can imagine,” Lukas said dryly. “What of the others?”

Tanya snorted. “Olfric suggested a Holy Purging. I pointed out it wouldn’t work, what with your ‘look-at-me-casting-a-shadow-under-Eternal-Light’ stunt earlier. Elena’s on the fence about you, but only because she can’t sense your mind.”

He arched an eyebrow.

“Elena?” Tanya repeated. “Brown hair, about yay high. Cute as a button. Remember?”

Lukas nodded slowly. “You said something about sensing minds.”

“She’s a changeling.” Tanya dropped her shoulders. “Elena’s damn good at sensing and manipulating emotions. Like, genuinely good. But she can’t sense yours, and it pisses her off.”

“Sensing and manipulating emotions … ” Lukas murmured. Inanna’s lessons came to mind. “She can read minds?”

“Emotions, not minds,” Tanya clarified.

“And Banksi?”

“What about him?”

“What does he think of me?”

“You’d have to ask him. I doubt he wants to purge you. He looked like a kid with a broken toy when we found out you weren’t breathing.”

“And you? What did you think?”

“Does it matter?”

He nodded.

Tanya didn’t move a muscle for several heartbeats. “I thought it was just one of your … Outsider things.”

He waited for her to continue.

“You’ve already shown you can ignore the Eternal Light at will. You killed an anomaly. Without amassing Sin. You’re not bremetan nor yokai but can use both lifeforce and conjure mana, both in and out of combat. And you’ve got mad healing skills. None of that is exactly normal.”

“So?”

“So if the normal rules don’t apply to you, why would death?”

Lukas blinked. Twice. Her logic felt cold and inhuman and much drawn out, but immaculate at the same time. He had proved to be an extraordinary person. It was only natural that even “ordinary” things would take on an “extraordinary” shape around him.

Neither of them spoke for several seconds.

“Lukas … ”

“Yeah?”

“Why were you inquiring about dead gods earlier?”

“What dead gods?”

She leveled a deadpan stare at him.

He sighed. “Any chance you can forget I asked that?”

“No.”

“Yes, I want to resurrect a goddess. From my own world. A goddess whom I consider an … associate, of sorts.”

Yeah, “associate” was an apt description. Inanna would probably throw a fit if he even so much as insinuated that they were “friends.”

She gave him an oblique look. “You’re a High Priest.”

“I’m not.”

“What are you?”

“I told you, an associate.”

“What kind?”

“You ask many questions.”

“And you don’t answer any of them properly.”

“Bother!” Lukas exhaled again and squared his shoulders. “We had a bargain. I promised her something and in return, she helped me. But things happened and she, err … died?”

“You seem unsure.”

“I am. I’m not sure how death works for gods and goddesses. Think you can give me some pointers?”

She shrugged. “I know very little about gods. But I don’t think we can revive them after their deaths. I mean, the Asukan Pantheon lost many of its members during the Great War, or so they tell us.”

She had a point. But mythology also spoke of gods getting resurrected time and again, often by beings even greater than them. He wasn’t sure if Christ’s resurrection fit the bill, but other religions had thematic similarities with the process. Baldur was the prime example of that, having been prophesied to be resurrected after Ragnarok. There was also the tale of Zeus resurrecting Dionysus, Shiva resurrecting his son Ganesha, and so on.

But asking direct questions could be dangerous. He needed to carefully tread the line between what was safe to ask and what wasn’t. Solana hadn’t minded talking about Nordic people. That didn’t mean the Asukans would feel the same.

“You could ask Zuken though … ” Tanya said, her voice hesitant. “If anyone can help you with that, it’s Zuken.”

Lukas glanced over at the aqāru-slime sitting next to him, rubbing its head against his knee like a kitten. It grazed its metallic tongue across the floor, only to sneeze, morphing into a cone and throwing itself into the air, before finally floating down like a deflated balloon and re-forming on the ground.

Yeah, this thing was going to give him a headache.

“Zuken will love your new pet. I’ve never seen a metal act like that. The svartalfars have metal golems in their armies, but they’re more like automatons and not actual creatures.”

Lukas did a double take. “There are svartalfars living in the Empire?”

Tanya gave him a weird look. “In their keeps, yes. Not very approachable either.”

Well, wasn’t that surprising? So far, it looked like this world had two factions—the Asukans and the Yokai. The former ruled the lands, and the latter survived in cracks and patches, hiding from the Eternal Light and possessing people to survive.

But that wasn’t all. There were Nordic elements around. And Elena—Elena was a changeling. Celtic mythos painted her kind as offspring of the fae with mortals. He had yet to hear any references to the Ulster Cycle or the Tuatha, so chances were that the term could refer to offspring between the elves and mortals, too.

And he had entered this mythology carnival with a Sumerian war goddess taking up space inside his freaking head.

Joy.

“What are you scheming?”

Lukas blinked at that. “Who, me?”

“Oh no, I was talking to the wall. It goes all cloudy eyed and stiff from time to time.”

He rolled his eyes at her deadpan expression. “Just wondering where to go from here. I know I told you about needing a new life, but I didn’t plan on that.”

Tanya shrugged. “You’re strong. You’ve got skills. Zuken’s interested in hiring you. I don’t see how that’s a terrible start.”

“What does he want from me?”

“I’m unsure. Zuken hasn’t sent me on any new missions since the anomaly. On the plus side, I’m no longer hunted.”

“Your people hunted you because of your Sin, right?”

Tanya instantly went defensive. “You know nothing about me!”

Lukas brought his hands up in apology. Clearly, his mouth had taken on the bad habit of running off without thinking. Another part of his mind carefully observed her reaction and filed it away.

“Not my place to comment, but I find your situation ironic.”

“In what way?”

“You got shunned because you committed a Sin. No one wanted to hire you. And then Banksi, an influential man, hires you to commit more Sin. Ironic, isn’t it?”

“You’re right,” Tanya said after a few minutes.

“About what?”

She leveled him a gaze. “That it isn’t your place to comment on it.”

She straightened her back, her lips twisted in disdain. “I was on the run. Living the life of an outcast. Now? I’m free. I’m not shunned, and my work conditions are better. Many people would call that progress.”

“Many people would also call that exchanging one prison for another.”

“Why do you care?” Tanya half snarled, half shouted. Clearly he had touched a raw nerve.

“I just think we’re kindred spirits, you and I.”

“We’re nothing but strangers who have repeatedly tried to kill each other.”

“Strangers don’t nurse each other back to health,” Lukas replied in his composed tone.

“You … I … ” She seemed utterly frustrated, before a strange look flashed on her face. “You—you want something from me, is that it?”

His jaw fell open, surprised. “’Scuse me?”

“No, it makes sense,” said Tanya, rattled by her own deductions. “We fought. You won. But you’ve ensured that I’m satisfied. First the frost, and then during negotiations with Zuken. No wonder they think I’m lying about you. They think you and I are old acquaintances. And now this—”

It was like watching glass shatter. Lukas almost winced at seeing her pleasant mask fall away, leaving behind a wary neutrality.

“So what is it? Ezzeron? My Frost powers? Yes, that must be it, isn’t it? You did something to me back in the anomaly. It’s why when I look at you, all I want to do is to—”

She broke her tirade at the last possible moment and looked away.

Lukas knew he had only a single chance to keep from spoiling his one ace in this new world. And so he acted.

“Yes.”

Tanya looked at him, her questions clear on her face.

“Yes,” he clarified. “I brought your Frost under control.”

She switched her hands, moving the bottom one to the top as if worried about wrinkling her dress. Her mouth twisted. “Of course. I knew that was the case.”

“I want you to know I will not hold that one over on you.”

Her eyes widened slightly. She held completely still. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you bring it under control? And why wouldn’t you hold it above me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“No, of—of course not,” she backpedaled. “But I want to know why.”

“Because I respect you too much for that.”

He couldn’t interpret her expression after he said that. There could have been anger in it, or suspicion or terror or blank curiosity.

“You don’t believe me.”

It wasn’t an accusation. The truth was plastered on her face.

“I’ve lived my entire life in the Empire. I don’t believe anyone.”

Trust breeds betrayal. I’ve seen it as a babe. I’ve seen it in Ereshkigal.

Your words will not shake me.

In that one moment, Lukas didn’t think he had ever met someone so lovely, yet entirely alone. Call it a hunch, but he understood her. On a fundamental level. Not the predator that Inanna had sealed away, but the young girl that was trying to survive against a harsh world outside. Someone that was compassionate, friendly, and caring, but had seen enough ugliness to walk into an anomaly, ready to commit a Sin, believing it was her only choice. But Lukas had learned the hard way that sometimes, a choice wasn’t a choice at all. And yet she had done it. And survived. That told him she had a lot of inner strength, and that was a quality he always found attractive.

He could really grow to like this girl.

Which, come to think of it, was why Zuken Banksi and the others had left her to care for him. She had admitted that they suspected them to have a deeper and older relationship. Perhaps Zuken Banksi was luring him with Tanya to make him reveal his secrets …

Too many questions, and webs of intrigue that kept deepening everywhere he looked.

What would you have done, Inanna?

Silence was the only reply he got.

CHAPTER 3

New World Citizen

The Banksi mansion stood out boldly against the blue beyond. It stood there as if conjured from a child’s storybook. It was perfect. Lukas imagined dragons and wyverns chained in the menageries of the outer courtyard, because if such a mansion could exist, why not? Every single stone was even and square, as if those who constructed it were set on perfection, obsessed with their art. The massive stone edifice was built into the face of a sheer cliff and left to hang in space. Crafted to be a seamless part of the forests and streams penetrating into its heart, the mansion endured the relentless pull of gravity for who knew how long, never slipping from its original purpose—to insulate its occupants from the world around it.

Ironic that the residents are the ones hosting an Outsider while the rest of the world stays ignorant.

“Feel like jumping?”

Before he knew it, Lukas had jumped to his left, away from the source of the voice, fire and lifeforce pulsing on his palms, ready to scorch and blast away the intruder. The moment his eyes landed on Tanya, his brain switched gears and pushed himself out of his fight-or-flight mode.

“Sorry.”

“That was some reaction,” she observed. “You weren’t this nervous back in the anomaly.”

Naturally. The anomaly was a wild zone. Neutral territory. The rules were simple—kill or be killed. Plus, wandering through the tunnels gave him an idea of what to expect. He knew what ate what, who hunted whom, and what to avoid and how.

But this place was foreign territory. Living in real rooms, sleeping in clean beds, showering, talking to Tanya, having breakfast—it was a normal, civilized life again. It should’ve made him feel better. Comfortable.

Instead it psyched him out. Monsters were simpler—he knew how to behave with them. People? They had agendas. Smiles on the outside, daggers on the inside. Hiding their intentions behind a nefarious web of lies. He was an Outsider with unique mysteries and these people wanted it, one way or the other. “New place, new people. It’ll take me some time to get used to this.”

Tanya smiled but said nothing. Instead, she took a step towards the precipice and stood, gazing at the town below.

“So … ” Lukas ventured, “what was that about jumping?”

“Oh.” She grinned. “Just a bit of trivia from my Aeromancy training. Looking from above disrupts one’s mental image of reality. It makes you want to get back to the sense of normalcy that existed when you were on the ground.”

Her feet rose from the ground, wind swirling and kissing her toes. The beauty, the grace, it should’ve left him spellbound.

Instead he suppressed a sneer. He could sense the waves around her feet, feel the pressure of the wind on the floor. She wasn’t fluttering, she wasn’t levitating, she was thrusting wind downward like a crude space shuttle, using mana instead of fuel. Had Inanna done it, he’d have felt nothing.

I’ll show her.

Focusing inward, he pushed lifeforce out of his feet, using Kinetomancy to push back against gravity while lifeforce pushed him upward. It was neither subtle nor graceful, but it pushed him up. He staggered and bent his knees all the way until he was squatting in midair, only to lose balance and fall down in an unceremonious heap.

Damn, that was hard.

Tanya chortled.

Lukas scowled at her, and that made her laugh harder. After a few seconds of hopeless glaring, he joined in.

The blonde slowly descended and extended her hand toward him. Lukas grabbed it and stood up.

“That wasn’t Aeromancy, I don’t think,” she said.

He shook his head. “Lifeforce. Pretty lousy first attempt, huh?”

She shook her head. “If anything, it’s impressive. Even for aeromancers, stabilizing against gravity is no minor feat.”

It was child’s play for Inanna. Lukas looked at his hands. What went wrong? Why did I lose control?

“Say,” Tanya asked, her feigned detached tone fooling no one, “I’ve been wondering. How do you do it?”

“Do what?”