There was no training after the fight.
That alone should have frightened Qaritas.
For ten years, Goro had trained him regardless of circumstance.
Broken ribs?
Train.
Poisoned blood?
Train.
No sleep?
Train.
Lost a tooth?
Apparently teeth were decorative.
Train.
Once, Qaritas had arrived at the training grounds with one arm dislocated, three cracked ribs, a fever caused by something with twelve mouths, and enough venom in his bloodstream to kill a minor god.
Goro had looked him over.
Thought for several seconds.
Then said—
"Good. Tonight we'll practice balance."
So when Goro simply walked away after telling Qaritas that keeping Xheavend in Yrtana could interfere with the past that created the future...
And didn't summon either of them back for another lesson...
Qaritas knew.
Their training was over.
Not finished.
Over.
There was a difference.
Finished suggested completion.
Mastery.
The comfortable lie that someday there would be nothing left to learn.
Over simply meant—
time had run out.
Yrtana remained awake long after Qaritas left the training grounds.
Music drifted between the golden temples.
Crystalline lanterns reflected across the enormous underground lake.
Market stalls remained open beneath flowering vines, merchants calling to late travelers while children chased glowing insects through the streets.
Nothing had changed.
That was somehow the worst part.
Tomorrow, the baker would still open her shop.
Cino would insult someone.
Sra would probably discover an artifact capable of ending civilization and place it beside her sewing needles.
Mr. M would continue pretending he didn't like Qaritas.
The old women would argue over soup.
Children would yell—
LORD Q!
And Qaritas...
might not be here to hear them.
He shoved both hands into his pockets.
"Wonderful."
No answer.
He had not expected one.
Still...
his thoughts reached inward automatically.
You'd probably say I'm being sentimental.
Silence.
Or stupid.
Nothing.
Qaritas smiled faintly.
"Miss you too."
The streets carried him toward the upper residential terraces.
Toward Goro's home.
He had passed it thousands of times during the last decade.
Yet tonight—
it looked different.
Not because the building had changed.
Because Qaritas knew he might never see it again.
The structure rose from the hillside in the shape of a coiled serpent fashioned almost entirely from gold.
Not polished gold.
Living gold.
The enormous body curled around itself several times, forming walls, balconies and sloping roofs. Individual scales caught the surrounding crystal light and reflected it in deep amber waves.
Two enormous gemstone eyes watched the street.
One emerald.
One amethyst.
Neither blinked.
They did not need to.
The entrance formed the serpent's open mouth.
Golden fangs curved downward around a black doorway.
Instead of a handle—
a carved impression of a right hand rested inside the serpent's tongue.
Qaritas stopped before it.
He had done this countless times.
Tonight his hand hesitated.
Then pressed into the imprint.
Cold metal closed around his palm.
The gemstone eyes ignited.
Purple.
A pulse traveled through the golden serpent.
Its enormous mouth slowly closed.
Fangs met.
For one heartbeat Qaritas stood facing a solid wall.
Then—
the entire serpent's jaw split down the middle.
The doors opened inward.
Purple light spilled across the street.
Qaritas stepped through.
The exterior lied.
Completely.
Anyone seeing Goro's house from outside would expect gold.
Serpents.
Weapons.
Perhaps several dead enemies incorporated tastefully into the furniture.
Instead—
the interior looked like a gothic palace designed by someone who had become obsessed with three colors and refused criticism.
Black.
Purple.
Green.
Tall pointed arches climbed overhead.
Dark polished stone reflected violet flames floating inside hanging glass vessels.
Green crystal veins ran through the walls like luminous roots.
Black wooden staircases spiraled around columns carved with serpents devouring their own tails.
Portraits filled the halls.
Some showed people Qaritas recognized.
Others...
people he suspected he would meet eventually.
He stopped looking at those years ago.
Time had already caused him enough headaches.
"Goro?"
Nothing.
No answer.
Qaritas expected that too.
He climbed the main staircase.
There was somewhere else he wanted to check first.
Xheavend's room.
He knocked.
Three times.
"Xheavend?"
Silence.
He waited.
"Xhea?"
Still nothing.
Qaritas pushed the door open.
Empty.
Her bed was made.
Mostly.
One corner of the blanket hung onto the floor.
Books covered the desk.
Weapons occupied a rack against one wall.
Several maps were pinned around the room, some containing handwritten notes Qaritas couldn't decipher because Xheavend's handwriting occasionally resembled the dying movements of a poisoned spider.
A birthday ribbon from years earlier still hung around one bedpost.
He smiled.
"Of course you kept that."
She wasn't here.
Probably saying goodbye.
The Academy of Snakes, most likely.
She had spent years there.
Had friends there.
Teachers.
Children who followed her around insisting she teach them increasingly irresponsible tricks.
Or—
The Betrayer's grave.
Qaritas's smile disappeared.
Two years.
That grave had existed for two years.
People still vandalized it.
Spit on it.
Carved insults across the stone.
Left rotten offerings.
The city remembered the Betrayer as exactly that.
A traitor.
Xheavend remembered someone else.
Someone she had loved.
Someone who had once been her friend.
Every week...
she cleaned the grave.
Every week, someone ruined it again.
Every week—
she returned.
Qaritas never asked her to stop.
Grief did not require public permission.
He turned to leave.
Then stopped.
Something beneath the bed caught the violet light.
Glass.
Qaritas frowned.
Crouched.
Reached underneath.
His fingers closed around a vial.
Empty.
Black residue clung to the bottom.
His stomach dropped.
"No."
He pulled out another.
Empty.
Another.
Another.
Seven.
Nine.
Twelve.
More hidden farther beneath the frame.
Qaritas sat back on his heels.
For several seconds...
he simply stared.
Then he uncorked one.
The smell hit immediately.
Sharp.
Metallic.
Bitter.
And beneath it—
something familiar.
Venom.
Goro's.
Qaritas closed his eyes.
"Damn it."
He knew exactly what this was.
Black Elixir.
He had seen Goro make it.
Once.
Never asked why.
Apparently he should have.
The mixture used venom harvested directly from Goro's own fangs, diluted with several compounds that prevented immediate cellular collapse.
For an ordinary mortal—
one sip would kill them.
For most Higher Beings—
several mouthfuls could cause paralysis, organ failure, hallucinations and eventual death.
For Xheavend?
Death was considerably less cooperative.
End would not allow her body to remain dead.
The poison still hurt her.
Still damaged her.
Still contaminated her blood.
Which was precisely why she drank it.
Not to sleep.
The opposite.
To remain awake.
To keep her bloodstream so saturated with foreign venom that Yzer's blood magic couldn't properly identify her beneath it.
Every drop of Goro's poison turned Xheavend's body into magical static.
For a few hours...
Yzer couldn't find her.
Couldn't follow the blood.
Couldn't reach through it.
Couldn't whisper from every shadow.
It was temporary.
Always temporary.
And when the venom weakened—
he found her again.
So she drank more.
And more.
And more.
Qaritas squeezed the empty vial.
His knuckles whitened.
He had known.
Not everything.
But enough.
He had seen her hands shake some mornings.
Seen the discoloration around her veins.
Seen the way she occasionally tasted the air as though her tongue had gone numb.
He had asked.
She dismissed it.
Goro dismissed it.
And Qaritas...
had accepted that.
Because what alternative had they possessed?
Yzer could find her through blood.
The poison interrupted him.
Goro supplied it because Goro's venom was one of the only substances powerful enough to interfere.
Practical.
Necessary.
Horrible.
Qaritas stared at the collection beneath the bed.
If someone relied upon alcohol to survive the day—
you called it a problem.
If someone relied upon drugs—
a problem.
But what did you call someone who deliberately poisoned herself because poisoning herself was the only way to keep a stalker out of her veins?
He didn't know.
He hated that he didn't know.
What he knew was simpler.
Once they left Goro—
the supply ended.
And when the venom cleared...
Yzer would know exactly where she was.
Qaritas shoved the vials back beneath the bed.
Not because he intended to ignore it.
Because this conversation deserved Xheavend's face.
Not her empty room.
"We're discussing this."
He stood.
"Whether you like it or not."
Then paused.
"...Preferably without you stabbing me."
Knowing Xheavend...
unlikely.
Goro never returned that night.
Neither did Xheavend.
Qaritas eventually accepted that they were both saying goodbye in their own ways.
He went to his room.
Stopped in the doorway.
Then laughed softly.
He had forgotten how ridiculous Goro had made it.
Two serpents curled around opposite sides of the room.
Not real serpents.
Carved ones.
One black.
One violet.
Their heads rested above the bed, facing one another.
Both had purple gemstone eyes.
Brothers.
Qaritas and Eon.
Goro had never explained it.
Didn't need to.
Qaritas sat on the edge of the bed.
For a moment—
he simply looked around.
Ten years.
He had arrived here at twenty-two.
Terrified more often than he admitted.
Dependent upon Eon's voice.
Unable to control the Void without risking becoming it.
He had slept in this room after poisonings.
After missions.
After arguments.
After victories.
After losses.
He had talked to Eon here even when Eon couldn't answer.
He had listened to Xheavend throw things at the wall in the room beside his.
He had woken to Goro banging on the door because apparently three hours of sleep counted as laziness.
Home.
Damn it.
It really had become home.
Qaritas lay backward.
Didn't bother removing his boots.
His eyes closed.
And sleep took him before he could argue with it.
Morning came quietly.
No alarms.
No Goro kicking down his door.
No master demanding he immediately explain twelve different forms of governance before breakfast.
Just—
quiet.
Qaritas opened his eyes.
For several seconds he forgot what day it was.
Then remembered.
"Oh."
That hurt more than expected.
He sat up.
Packed quickly.
Weapons first.
Medicine.
Clothing.
Tools.
Antidotes.
Several objects Sra had insisted he carry.
Two of which whispered whenever he looked away.
Food came last.
Enough for five years.
Technically.
Goro had helped prepare the supplies months earlier, though Qaritas hadn't understood why at the time.
Now he did.
The Chronolock stood open in the center of his room.
Its interior storage distorted space, shelves disappearing far deeper than the machine's exterior dimensions allowed.
Qaritas loaded preserved meat.
Fruit.
Grain.
Water.
Medicinal plants.
Cooking supplies.
Several jars marked in Goro's handwriting:
DO NOT OPEN NEAR FIRE.
Qaritas stared at them.
"Useful."
Another crate read:
DO NOT OPEN AT ALL.
"...Even better."
He loaded it anyway.
The Chronolock's preservation chamber would keep everything fresh.
Five years.
Maybe longer.
Knowing Goro—
probably thirty.
Qaritas stepped back.
The massive clock folded.
Gears collapsed inward.
Walls compressed.
The entire machine shrank until it fit comfortably in his palm.
He slipped it into his pocket.
Then looked around the room.
One last time.
The two serpent brothers watched silently from above the bed.
Purple eyes.
Qaritas touched two fingers against the doorframe.
"See you later."
He hated goodbyes.
So he refused to make it one.
The Book waited on the table.
Qaritas looked at it.
It looked at him.
Purple eyes blinked across the stitched cover.
Once.
Slowly.
Qaritas narrowed his eyes.
"So."
Nothing.
"Ten years."
The Book blinked.
"Ten entire years."
Silence.
"You haven't said one thing."
Nothing.
"Not one sarcastic message."
The gemstones pulsed faintly.
"I'm starting to think you don't like me."
One eye closed.
Qaritas pointed.
"Don't give me that."
The Book opened.
Qaritas froze.
Pages flipped.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
Ten years of dust shook loose from between them.
Ink moved.
For the first time in a decade—
words appeared.
One sentence.
GO TO GALATHAN.
Another line formed beneath it.
THERE YOU WILL FIND KRSANGAWI.
Qaritas stared.
The Book snapped shut.
"...That's it?"
Nothing.
"You disappear for ten years and that's all I get?"
Silence.
Qaritas picked it up.
"I preferred you when you insulted me."
One purple eye opened.
A single word appeared across the cover.
LIAR.
Qaritas smiled.
There you are.
And somewhere inside his chest—
for one ridiculous heartbeat—
he wondered whether Eon might answer too.
Nothing came.
The hope hurt.
But it no longer broke him.
Ten years had taught Qaritas how to move without Eon's voice.
It had never taught him how not to miss it.
He tucked the Book beneath one arm.
"Galathan."
A smile slowly spread across his face.
Krsangawi.
Gawi.
Captain of the Third Division.
Goro's wife.
And apparently—
another future friend Qaritas had somehow managed to meet before technically meeting her.
Time remained stupid.
At least it was consistent.
"Alright."
He looked toward the door.
"Let's find Gawi."
Qaritas stepped outside.
And stopped.
Xheavend waited in the courtyard.
Her long black hair had been tied high into a ponytail.
Black-and-red armor covered her from throat to boots, fitted for movement rather than ceremony. Layered plates protected her chest, shoulders and thighs, each etched with markings collected from a decade of teachers.
Weapons covered her.
Her four-stage staff rested across her back.
Two short blades sat at her hips.
Throwing knives lined one thigh.
A coiled length of enchanted wire circled one wrist.
Several vials hung from her belt.
Qaritas noticed those immediately.
Black.
His jaw tightened.
Later.
Her red eye met his.
Then the pink.
She smiled.
Sad.
Small.
Real.
"Ready?"
Qaritas looked at her.
At the girl who had become his sister somewhere between birthdays and blood.
"No."
Xheavend blinked.
Then laughed.
"Good."
"You?"
"No."
"Excellent."
"Very heroic."
"I try."
A shadow moved behind her.
Goro stepped from beneath one of the golden arches.
Humanoid.
Hands resting behind his back.
Molten-gold eyes unusually quiet.
Qaritas looked at him.
Neither mentioned last night's argument.
Not yet.
Goro glanced between them.
"I will take you to the final floor."
Xheavend's smile weakened.
"You aren't coming after that."
It wasn't a question.
"No."
Goro's answer was gentle.
"But I will get you there."
Qaritas adjusted the Book beneath his arm.
"And then?"
Goro looked toward the distant tunnels beyond Yrtana.
"Then you leave the Labyrinth."
His gaze moved to Xheavend.
"And you begin the war."
Silence.
Xheavend swallowed.
Qaritas stepped closer until their shoulders nearly touched.
Not touching.
Just there.
She noticed.
Said nothing.
Then—
a bell rang.
One.
Deep.
Ancient.
The sound crossed the entire underground city.
Another answered.
Then another.
Qaritas frowned.
"What is that?"
Goro smiled.
"You didn't think you were leaving quietly."
Qaritas's stomach dropped.
"Oh no."
They reached the main avenue.
And Yrtana was waiting.
Everyone.
Qaritas stopped dead.
The avenue leading toward the Labyrinth gates had disappeared beneath people.
Thousands.
Perhaps tens of thousands.
Every bridge.
Every balcony.
Every rooftop.
Packed.
Children sat upon shoulders.
Elders stood with canes planted before them.
Hunters wore ceremonial armor.
Blacksmiths still carried soot across their faces.
Farmers held flowers.
Students from the Academy of Snakes crowded together beneath black-and-gold banners.
The city had stopped.
For them.
Qaritas's throat tightened.
"No."
Xheavend looked at him.
"What?"
"I refuse."
"Refuse what?"
"Feelings."
She snorted.
"Bit late."
Then—
Tap.
One wooden staff struck stone.
Qaritas froze.
Another.
Tap.
Then another.
Tap.
The same rhythm that had welcomed Goro home ten years ago.
Only now—
it belonged to them.
Thousands of sticks struck the ground.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Drums answered.
Slow.
Deep.
The sound traveled through Qaritas's bones.
People began calling his name.
Not Qaritas.
Never Qaritas.
"Q!"
"Lord Q!"
"Ghost!"
"Come back alive!"
"We'll keep your room!"
"Don't let him cook!"
Qaritas's eyes widened.
"Who said that?"
Laughter rolled through the crowd.
Cino stood near the front.
Cane planted before him.
Mr. M sat upon his head.
The tiny animal looked unbearably pleased.
Beside Cino stood Mistress Sra.
Inemio.
Vulmere—
most of him.
Hundreds of Qaritas's other masters filled the street behind them.
One thousand lives.
One thousand teachers.
One thousand pieces of the person he had become.
Qaritas's smile faltered.
Cino stepped forward.
"You still lack grace."
Qaritas laughed despite himself.
"Goodbye to you too."
"I did not say goodbye."
The old rat tapped Qaritas's chest with his cane.
"Bring back proof I taught you something."
Qaritas swallowed.
"Fine."
Mr. M leapt.
Qaritas caught him automatically.
The tiny creature pressed its face into Qaritas's chin.
His chest hurt.
"You little traitor."
Mr. M purred.
Then bit him.
"OW!"
Cino nodded.
"Affection."
"He's horrible."
"He learned from you."
Sra approached next.
She placed three spools of Vaeshir Thread into Qaritas's hand.
He stared.
"You said this was rare."
"It is."
"You have three more?"
"I have thirty-seven."
Qaritas closed his eyes.
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
She touched two fingers lightly against his forehead.
"Remember what I taught you."
"Don't touch anything."
"Excellent."
A pause.
"Unless it's interesting."
Qaritas stared.
"That contradicts everything."
Sra smiled.
"Now you're ready."
Inemio stepped forward.
Qaritas braced himself.
A luminous hand touched his wrist.
This time—
no lifetime of pain.
Warmth.
Pride.
Grief.
Hope.
All shared in a single pulse.
Qaritas's breath caught.
Inemio released him.
No words.
None needed.
Vulmere appeared beside Qaritas.
"Reality lies."
Qaritas nodded.
"Senses lie."
"Patterns lie."
"I know."
Half of Vulmere's face disappeared.
The remaining mouth smiled.
"Then lie better."
Qaritas laughed.
"I'll try."
"Do not."
Vulmere vanished.
Naturally.
Then the crowd shifted.
Opening a path toward Xheavend.
The laughter softened.
People looked at her differently.
Not as Lord Q.
Not as a student.
Not even merely as the child many of them had helped raise.
They knew.
Maybe not every detail.
Maybe not the exact shape of the future.
But they knew enough.
Xheavend would face Yzer.
One day.
And Yrtana had spent generations waiting for someone strong enough to make that day possible.
An elderly woman stepped forward.
Xheavend recognized her.
Qaritas saw it immediately.
Her expression softened.
The woman touched one shaking hand to Xheavend's cheek.
"My mother died here."
Silence.
"My husband too."
Another breath.
"My son disappeared into the upper wards thirty-two years ago."
Xheavend didn't look away.
The woman's eyes filled.
Then she smiled.
"Save our world, Lady Xheavend."
Xheavend's face broke.
Barely.
One breath.
One tremble in her mouth.
Then she covered the woman's hand with her own.
"I'll try."
The old woman shook her head.
"No."
Her voice remained gentle.
"Live."
Xheavend froze.
The woman smiled through tears.
"Save it if you can."
"But live."
Something in Xheavend's expression collapsed.
She nodded.
Once.
"Okay."
Then others began speaking.
"Come home."
"Make him afraid."
"Make the sun reach us again."
"Tell the surface we're still alive."
"Remember us."
"Free them."
"Free yourself."
"Lady Xheavend!"
Voices multiplied.
Thousands.
The entire city rising together.
"SAVE OUR WORLD!"
The words thundered through Yrtana.
Xheavend stared.
Her red eye glittered.
Her pink eye overflowed.
Tears ran down both cheeks.
She didn't wipe them away.
Not this time.
Goro stood behind her.
Silent.
His jaw clenched.
Qaritas noticed.
So did Xheavend.
She turned.
For one moment—
twenty years disappeared.
Not warrior.
Not Ascendant.
Not Apocalypse.
Just the child who had once eaten birthday cake with frosting across her face.
She walked toward Goro.
Stopped.
Then hugged him.
Hard.
Goro froze.
Only for a fraction of a second.
Then both arms wrapped around her.
His head lowered against her hair.
The city looked away.
Not literally.
But emotionally.
Giving them something close to privacy among thousands.
Xheavend's voice came muffled against his chest.
"You better not die while I'm gone."
Goro closed his eyes.
"That would be inconvenient."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
She pulled back.
"You promise?"
Goro looked at her.
Something ancient and unbearably sad passed through his golden eyes.
Then—
"I promise to do everything within my power to be here when you return."
Not the same promise.
Xheavend noticed.
Of course she did.
But she nodded.
Then Goro touched two fingers beneath her chin.
"Little Lady."
She swallowed.
"Yes?"
"Make him regret ever learning your name."
A tiny smile appeared.
Dangerous.
There she was.
"Gladly."
Qaritas thought he might escape.
He should have known better.
Goro turned toward him.
"No."
Qaritas immediately backed away.
"Absolutely not."
Goro opened his arms.
"I refuse."
"Come here."
"You hug like a constrictor."
"I am a constrictor."
"THAT DOESN'T HELP."
Goro grabbed him anyway.
Qaritas disappeared against his chest.
"Can't—breathe—"
"You survive worse every night."
"THIS ISN'T TRAINING!"
Goro laughed.
Deep.
Warm.
The sound Qaritas had associated with home for ten years.
Then quieter—
close enough only Qaritas could hear—
"Find my friends."
Qaritas stopped struggling.
"Krsangawi."
"First."
"Then Vaelrith."
"Aslvyr."
"Nhalyros."
"Hly'Zouun."
Goro released him.
"They will train you both."
Qaritas nodded.
"And protect her?"
Goro's eyes sharpened.
"With their lives."
Qaritas believed him.
Goro rested one clawed hand upon Qaritas's shoulder.
"Brother."
That word hit unexpectedly hard.
Qaritas looked up.
Goro smiled.
"Bring her back."
Qaritas glanced toward Xheavend.
Then back.
"I will."
Goro's grip tightened.
"No."
His voice lowered.
"Help her learn how to bring herself back."
Qaritas understood.
Protection wasn't possession.
Love wasn't hesitation.
And Xheavend could not spend the rest of her life surviving because someone stronger stood between her and Yzer.
Eventually—
she had to become the thing standing between herself and him.
Qaritas nodded.
"I understand."
"Good."
Goro released him.
Then turned toward the gates.
The city followed.
The great doors of Yrtana opened.
Beyond them—
the Labyrinth waited.
No music.
No lanterns.
No laughter.
Only black stone.
Roots.
Distant water.
And something moving much farther below.
The celebration remained behind them.
Qaritas stood beside Xheavend.
Goro several steps ahead.
Behind—
thousands of people waited.
Cino.
Sra.
Inemio.
Vulmere.
Children.
Friends.
Teachers.
Home.
Qaritas looked back once.
That was a mistake.
The little girl who had asked him to sign her book ten years earlier stood near the front.
Older now.
Nearly grown.
She held the same book against her chest.
When Qaritas looked at her—
she raised one fist.
"Come back, Lord Q!"
Qaritas laughed.
His eyes burned.
"I told you not to call me that!"
Her grin widened.
"COME BACK AND STOP ME!"
The crowd laughed.
Qaritas shook his head.
Then turned forward.
Xheavend looked at him.
"You okay?"
"No."
"Me neither."
"Good."
"Why is that good?"
"Consistency."
She smiled.
Goro moved ahead.
The darkness swallowed him first.
Xheavend followed.
Qaritas took one final step from Yrtana.
Behind him—
the wooden staffs struck stone one last time.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Then—
the gates began to close.
Qaritas did not turn around again.
He couldn't.
Because if he did...
he wasn't entirely certain he would keep walking.
So he listened instead.
To the city.
To the people.
To the voices following them into the dark.
"Q!"
"Xheavend!"
"Come home!"
"Save our world!"
The doors closed.
BOOM.
Silence.
Yrtana disappeared behind stone.
Goro looked toward the descending tunnel.
"From here..."
His expression changed.
The father vanished.
The friend vanished.
The smiling serpent vanished.
Commander of the First Division remained.
"...nothing is training."
Qaritas rested one hand against his weapon.
Xheavend's fingers tightened around her staff.
Goro continued.
"The creatures below will not stop because you are injured."
"They will not spare you because you have learned the lesson."
"They will not care whether you are ready."
His golden eyes moved between them.
"And neither will the Labyrinth."
Something shrieked far beneath their feet.
Not fungal.
Not anything Qaritas recognized.
Then—
another answered.
And another.
Xheavend exhaled.
"How many floors?"
Goro smiled.
Not comfortingly.
"Enough."
Qaritas sighed.
"I hate when you answer like that."
"I know."
They descended.
And somewhere below—
something enormous unfolded its wings.
The first hour was quiet.
Qaritas hated that immediately.
The Labyrinth had taught him long ago that silence rarely meant safety.
Usually—
it meant something was deciding how to kill you.
The corridor descended steadily beneath Yrtana, winding between walls of black stone streaked with veins of violet crystal. The warm glow of the city disappeared behind them until even the faintest trace of gold was gone.
No music.
No markets.
No children yelling—
Lord Q.
Only footsteps.
Qaritas.
Xheavend.
Goro.
Three sets.
Then two.
Qaritas frowned.
Stopped.
Looked behind him.
Goro stood several yards back.
Completely motionless.
"What?"
Goro pointed upward.
Qaritas looked.
Nothing.
Black ceiling.
Crystals.
Roots.
Then—
one crystal blinked.
Not the crystal.
Something behind it.
Qaritas's hand moved toward his weapon.
"Don't," Goro said.
Xheavend had already reached for hers.
"Why?"
Goro smiled faintly.
"Because it isn't hunting yet."
Qaritas stared upward.
"...Yet?"
"Correct."
"That's not comforting."
"It wasn't intended to be."
Naturally.
They continued.
The thing above followed.
Qaritas could hear it now.
A faint—
scrape.
Pause.
Scrape.
Pause.
Never approaching.
Never retreating.
Just matching them.
Xheavend glanced upward once.
"You know what it is?"
Goro nodded.
"Yes."
"And?"
"You will too."
Qaritas looked at him.
"You've become considerably more irritating today."
"I am preparing you for independence."
"By withholding useful information?"
"Precisely."
Xheavend snorted.
"He's been preparing you for independence for ten years."
"And somehow it keeps involving attempted murder."
"Effective education."
"You've become him."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
Goro chuckled.
Then—
the corridor ended.
Not narrowed.
Ended.
A cliff opened before them.
Beyond it—
stars.
Qaritas stopped.
Real stars.
Inside the Labyrinth.
A vast cosmic sky stretched where another cavern should have existed. Galaxies turned beyond floating islands of crystal. Several moons hung impossibly close, their cratered surfaces reflecting pale silver light across thousands of suspended stone fragments.
There was no floor.
Only space.
Xheavend stared.
"...I hate this floor."
Qaritas smiled.
"Finally, something we agree on."
Goro walked to the edge.
"This is the Seventh Descent."
"The Labyrinth has a sky?"
"It has whatever it needs."
"That sentence makes me hate it more."
A cry split the stars.
Beautiful.
High.
Almost musical.
Then—
the entire false sky moved.
Qaritas looked up.
Something enormous dove from the galaxy above.
Wings opened.
Hundreds of feet wide.
Feathers glittered sapphire, violet and silver, each one carrying swirling patterns that resembled miniature galaxies.
Its body resembled some impossible predatory bird—
if birds had ever been designed by a universe having a fever dream.
Two colossal wings.
Four smaller stabilizing wings beneath them.
Long streaming tail feathers divided into whip-like filaments.
Talons large enough to close around buildings.
And embedded within the primary wings—
eyes.
Not biological eyes.
Galaxies.
Entire spiraling star systems rotated within feathered sockets.
The creature screamed.
Gravity vanished.
Qaritas's stomach jumped into his throat.
"What—"
He lifted from the ground.
Xheavend did too.
Every loose rock around them rose.
Goro remained standing.
Of course he did.
Qaritas floated several feet upward.
"You could've mentioned that!"
"You would still be floating."
"THAT ISN'T THE POINT!"
The bird folded its wings.
Dove.
Fast.
Too fast.
Qaritas reached for the Void.
Xheavend shouted—
"Don't!"
He turned.
She kicked off a floating rock.
Propelled herself sideways.
The bird passed between them.
Its wing clipped the cliff.
Stone didn't break.
Gravity changed.
The entire cliff rotated ninety degrees.
What had been a wall became ground.
Qaritas fell sideways.
Hard.
He hit stone, rolled, barely caught the edge before falling into the false cosmos below.
Xheavend drove both feet into another floating island.
Her staff unfolded.
Spear.
She threw.
The cosmic bird twisted.
Missed.
Mostly.
The spear clipped one tail feather.
The feather separated.
Immediately—
the stars around them went black.
Qaritas froze.
No moons.
No crystals.
No horizon.
Nothing.
Only darkness.
"Xheavend?"
"I'm here!"
Somewhere left.
No.
Above.
Or—
Behind?
The creature's cry came from everywhere.
Goro's voice remained calm.
"Stop trusting direction."
Qaritas clenched his jaw.
Of course.
Training.
Not training.
No.
Goro had been clear.
Nothing here was training anymore.
The bird struck.
Qaritas felt pressure change against his left cheek.
He dropped.
Talons passed overhead.
He couldn't see them.
Didn't need to.
Ten years.
Blind.
Deaf.
Poisoned.
Hallucinating.
No magical perception.
No senses.
Goro had taken everything from him until instinct stopped being dependent upon information.
Qaritas smiled.
"There you are."
Darkness opened beneath his palm.
He grabbed—
nothing.
Not the bird.
The space beneath it.
Void collapsed.
Gravity abruptly inverted.
The bird screamed as its own dive became upward acceleration.
Xheavend understood immediately.
She always did.
A crimson line flashed through the darkness.
Her staff returned—
then transformed.
Bow.
She drew without an arrow.
Released.
The string screamed.
A projectile of compressed atmospheric pressure struck the creature's right wing.
Something snapped.
Stars returned.
The cosmic predator tumbled through the false sky.
Qaritas leapt from the cliff.
Xheavend yelled—
"Q!"
"I have a plan!"
"You always say that right before something stupid!"
"Consistency!"
He fell toward the creature.
Silver cloak snapping behind him.
The bird recovered.
One galactic eye fixed on him.
Gravity crushed downward.
Qaritas's bones screamed.
His fall accelerated.
Too much.
His shoulder dislocated.
Ribs compressed.
Blood filled his mouth.
He laughed anyway.
Not because it was funny.
Because Goro had trained him for exactly this sort of nonsense.
Pain said—
Stop.
Body answered—
Can still move.
Good enough.
Qaritas disappeared.
Not invisible.
Less.
For half a heartbeat—
reality misplaced him.
The creature's gravitational lock vanished.
Qaritas reappeared against its back.
Grabbed two feathers.
The bird shrieked.
Xheavend landed beside him.
"Move!"
"Why?"
She smiled.
"Because I'm about to make this terrible."
"...For who?"
"Yes."
She slammed both palms into the creature.
Apocalypse answered.
Not extinction.
Not yet.
Something smaller.
A localized cataclysm.
The atmosphere around one wing suddenly experienced hurricane-force pressure.
The opposite experienced vacuum.
The wing twisted between them.
Bone shattered.
The creature spiraled.
Qaritas nearly lost his grip.
"THAT WAS YOUR PLAN?!"
"No!"
"GOOD!"
"My plan was worse!"
"THAT'S NOT BETTER!"
They crashed through a floating island.
Crystal exploded around them.
The bird struck another.
Then another.
Finally—
Qaritas touched its spine.
Void entered.
Not enough to erase it.
Enough to remove one thing.
Weight.
The creature became mass without gravitational relationship.
For one impossible second—
its own body didn't know how heavy it was.
Xheavend grabbed the damaged wing.
And threw.
She physically threw a creature hundreds of times her size.
It disappeared into a gravitational tear.
The stars swallowed it.
Silence returned.
Qaritas hung upside down from a crystal ledge.
Xheavend clung to his ankle.
He looked down.
She looked up.
"...You can let go."
"No."
"Why?"
"You're the only thing stopping me from falling."
"Ah."
A pause.
"Then please continue."
Goro stood on a floating stone several hundred feet away.
Arms folded.
Qaritas glared at him.
"You could help!"
Goro smiled.
"No."
"I hate you!"
"No, you don't."
"...Temporarily!"
The next floor tried to eat them.
Immediately.
There wasn't even the dignity of an introduction.
They stepped through a stone arch—
and something hit Qaritas hard enough to launch him through three pillars.
He smashed into the fourth.
Stone cratered around his back.
His vision went white.
Xheavend screamed his name.
Then the creature roared.
The world became red.
Qaritas dropped from the broken pillar.
Looked up.
And decided—
"No."
Twenty-five feet of skeletal muscle stood between them.
Its body looked flayed.
Black-red tissue stretched between immense exposed ribs. Bone armor grew outward across its shoulders in overlapping plates, every ridge ending in a hooked spike.
The skull resembled some monstrous reptile stripped down and rebuilt incorrectly.
Red eyes burned within deep sockets.
Its mouth opened.
Rows.
And rows.
And rows.
Of teeth.
The creature charged.
Xheavend met it.
That surprised Qaritas.
She didn't dodge.
Didn't use magic.
Didn't become Apocalypse.
She planted one foot.
Turned her hip.
And punched it.
Her fist struck the creature's lower jaw.
BOOM.
The impact cracked the floor.
The monster's head moved approximately three inches.
Xheavend blinked.
"...Oh."
The creature backhanded her.
She disappeared through a wall.
Qaritas winced.
"Excellent experiment."
A hand erupted from the rubble.
One finger rose.
"Shut up."
"Alive?"
"Unfortunately."
"Good."
The monster charged Qaritas.
He moved.
Claw.
Duck.
Jaw.
Pivot.
Tail.
Jump.
Except—
the tail changed direction.
Mid-swing.
It curled around Qaritas's waist.
"Oh."
The creature slammed him into the floor.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
His ribs snapped.
Then—
Xheavend returned.
She landed on the beast's spine.
Two short blades punched between vertebrae.
The monster screamed.
Twisted.
Caught her arm in its jaws.
Bit.
Bone cracked.
Xheavend's face tightened.
She didn't scream.
Qaritas did.
"LET GO OF HER!"
He attacked.
Too emotional.
Goro saw it.
Qaritas knew he saw it.
The creature saw it too.
It released Xheavend.
Pivoted.
Caught Qaritas's charge.
A claw closed around his throat.
Lifted him.
Xheavend landed hard.
Her arm hung wrong.
Already healing.
"Q!"
The creature squeezed.
Qaritas's vision darkened.
He reached for Void.
Nothing.
Not because it failed.
Because something in the monster's bone armor interfered.
Absorbed.
Interesting.
Terrible time to learn that.
Then—
Qaritas remembered Cino.
Power isn't your problem.
Grace.
He stopped struggling.
The creature tightened harder.
Qaritas relaxed completely.
Then dropped his chin.
Turned his shoulder.
Changed the angle of his neck.
Created half an inch.
Enough.
His hand struck the creature's wrist.
Not with strength.
Placement.
A joint.
Then elbow.
Then pressure.
The giant's grip broke.
Qaritas dropped.
Xheavend swept one damaged leg behind the creature's knee.
It didn't fall.
So Qaritas kicked the opposite knee.
Still nothing.
They looked at each other.
Together—
"Again."
Two kicks.
Same moment.
Same angle.
Bone gave.
The monster collapsed.
Xheavend jumped.
Knee first.
Her kneecap struck beneath its jaw.
Qaritas followed.
Elbow.
Temple.
Xheavend heel.
Throat.
Qaritas palm.
Sternum.
No magic.
No Void.
No apocalypse.
Just ten years.
Teacher after teacher.
Movement after movement.
Every species.
Every body.
Every solution.
The beast stood again anyway.
Blood poured from its mouth.
It grinned.
Qaritas stared.
"...I respect that."
Xheavend cracked her neck.
"I don't."
They attacked together.
The fight lasted thirty-seven minutes.
By the end—
Qaritas's left arm was broken.
Xheavend had lost three fingers.
The creature had lost an eye.
Half its jaw.
One leg.
Several ribs.
And apparently none of its enthusiasm.
It launched again.
Qaritas ducked.
Xheavend jumped onto his back.
He stood.
Threw her.
She flew over the creature.
Her regenerating hand closed around one exposed spinal spike.
She ripped.
The entire vertebral column tore backward.
The monster screamed.
Qaritas drove his palm into the exposed chest cavity.
This time—
Void found flesh.
The heart disappeared.
Not destroyed.
Removed.
The giant stopped.
Looked down.
Almost offended.
Then collapsed.
Xheavend landed beside him.
Three fingers regrew with small wet cracks.
She looked at Qaritas.
"You good?"
His left arm pointed approximately the wrong direction.
"Excellent."
"Your arm."
"Decorative."
She laughed.
Then reset it for him.
Without warning.
CRACK.
"AAAA—"
"You're welcome."
"You could warn me!"
"You tense."
"I tense because you're snapping my bones!"
"Exactly."
Goro passed them.
"Good teamwork."
Qaritas stared.
"That is all you have to say?"
"Your footwork deteriorated at minute nineteen."
"...I hate this family."
Xheavend smiled.
"Family?"
Qaritas paused.
"Damn it."
Her smile widened.
"Too late."
The third creature punished them for using magic.
They discovered that the hard way.
The chamber looked almost beautiful.
Purple crystal forests.
Black reflective ground.
Stars drifting beneath the stone as though they walked over the surface of space.
Then—
the ground bulged.
A colossal black-violet shape crawled upward.
Six armored limbs.
A body low and massive.
No face.
Only an enormous circular mouth.
Concentric rings of crystalline teeth opened inward.
Then inward again.
Then again.
An endless throat.
Qaritas's stomach turned.
"I've seen worse."
Xheavend looked at him.
"Where?"
"Hellbound."
"Fair."
The creature lunged.
Xheavend fired first.
Crimson energy struck its armor.
The monster glowed.
Brighter.
Qaritas frowned.
Then its mouth opened.
The same crimson energy fired back.
Xheavend barely moved.
The blast caught her shoulder.
Half her upper body disappeared.
Qaritas froze.
Then remembered—
regeneration.
Still hated it.
She reformed on one knee.
"Don't."
"I noticed."
Qaritas tried Void.
The creature inhaled.
The absence itself stretched.
Pulled.
His Void flowed toward its mouth.
Qaritas released immediately.
The beast swallowed it.
Its armor deepened.
Stars appeared beneath its plates.
"...It ate nothing."
Goro stood against the chamber wall.
"Yes."
Qaritas looked at him.
"That's offensive."
"You'll recover."
"No, spiritually."
The creature charged.
No magic.
Again.
Apparently the Labyrinth had decided to audit their fundamentals.
The fight became ugly.
Qaritas used terrain.
Xheavend used speed.
They broke crystals.
Used shards as weapons.
Collapsed pillars.
Redirected the creature into walls.
It adapted.
Its circular mouth opened wider.
Tongues emerged.
Not flesh.
Crystal cords.
One wrapped Xheavend's ankle.
Dragged.
Qaritas grabbed her wrist.
The creature pulled both.
He slid across stone.
Boots carving trenches.
Xheavend shouted—
"Let go!"
"No!"
"Q!"
"No!"
"It'll take both of us!"
"Then it gets indigestion!"
"That is the stupidest—"
A second tongue hit Qaritas.
Wrapped his chest.
Now both were dragged.
Xheavend looked at him.
Qaritas looked at her.
"On three?"
"Three."
They both released themselves forward.
Not away.
Toward it.
The creature hadn't expected prey to cooperate.
Qaritas and Xheavend flew directly into the open mouth.
Goro's eyes narrowed.
They vanished.
The mouth closed.
Silence.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Then—
the creature convulsed.
One section of armor bulged.
Another.
A claw punched from inside.
Xheavend's.
Qaritas's blade followed.
They ripped outward.
Black-purple fluid exploded across the ground.
The monster screamed.
Xheavend crawled from the wound.
Covered in slime.
Qaritas followed.
He spat something out.
A crystalline tooth.
He looked at it.
"...Souvenir."
Xheavend gagged.
"You're disgusting."
"I learned from Goro."
Goro smiled.
"Good."
The fourth floor nearly killed them before they ever saw the creature.
Sound.
That was its weapon.
A vibration entered Qaritas's teeth.
His vision doubled.
Blood ran from his nose.
Xheavend dropped to one knee.
Her equilibrium vanished.
The world tilted.
Then the crystal-backed thing emerged.
Eight limbs.
Black armor.
Gigantic violet mineral growths along its spine.
Two long stalks rose over its body, each ending in a cluster of turquoise sensory spheres.
They pulsed.
Sound became pressure.
Qaritas's eardrums burst.
Silence.
Instant.
Blood poured down his neck.
He smiled.
The creature had accidentally helped him.
Xheavend saw the expression.
Even without hearing—
she understood.
They couldn't hear.
Perfect.
Goro had trained them for that too.
The creature pulsed again.
The ground shattered.
Qaritas watched cracks instead of listening.
Xheavend watched air distortion.
One moved left.
One right.
The beast couldn't decide which to target.
Its sensory stalks split.
Mistake.
Qaritas attacked the crystals.
Xheavend attacked the legs.
The creature rotated.
Faster than something that size should move.
One leg punched through Qaritas's abdomen.
He stared down.
"...Rude."
No sound reached him.
But he felt himself say it.
Xheavend's eyes widened.
She ran toward him.
Qaritas shook his head.
Focus.
She did.
That mattered.
Ten years ago—
she would have abandoned the fight.
Now—
love was not hesitation.
She used Qaritas.
Literally.
Jumped onto the limb impaling him.
Ran along it.
Qaritas stared.
Seriously?
She grinned.
Then drove both blades into the nearest sensory stalk.
The turquoise cluster burst.
The creature convulsed.
Its leg ripped out of Qaritas.
Blood followed.
He collapsed.
The second stalk turned toward Xheavend.
Qaritas grabbed the leg that had stabbed him.
Void crawled through the joints.
Not erasing.
Disconnecting.
The limb ceased belonging to the nervous system.
It collapsed.
Xheavend ripped off the second sensory cluster.
The vibration stopped.
The creature stumbled blind.
Qaritas rose.
One hand pressed over his abdomen.
Xheavend pointed.
Together.
He nodded.
They broke every limb.
One at a time.
The creature fought for each one.
Clawing.
Biting.
Crushing.
By the time the last crystal stopped glowing—
Qaritas was covered in blood.
Half his.
Xheavend's armor was cracked open.
Her jaw had been broken twice.
Goro hadn't moved.
Not once.
Qaritas stared at him.
Something bitter rose.
Not from pain.
From everything.
Xheavend.
Yzer.
The black vials.
The panic.
The decision Goro had already made for both of them.
"You knew."
Goro's expression didn't change.
Qaritas stepped closer.
"You knew what would happen when she left."
"Q."
Xheavend's warning.
He ignored it.
"You knew the poison would stop protecting her."
Goro's eyes sharpened.
"Yes."
"And you're still sending her out there."
"Qaritas."
"You watched what he did to her for eight years!"
Goro went still.
"You watched her stop sleeping!"
"Q."
"You watched her poison herself just so he couldn't find her!"
That got Xheavend.
Her face hardened.
"Stop."
Qaritas turned.
"No."
"Yes."
"He supplied it!"
"I asked him to."
Silence.
Qaritas stared at her.
Xheavend stepped closer.
Her voice wasn't loud.
That made it stronger.
"You don't understand."
"I understand enough."
"No."
Her red eye burned.
Pink eye wet.
"You don't."
Qaritas opened his mouth.
She cut him off.
"You don't understand what it's like to have someone inside your head without permission."
That struck.
Hard.
"You don't understand what it's like to wake up wondering whether the voice you heard was real."
A step.
"To look at someone you love and wonder whether they're actually there."
Another.
"To know someone is waiting for one moment when you're tired enough..."
Her voice cracked.
"...scared enough..."
"...lonely enough..."
"...to make you doubt yourself."
Qaritas went quiet.
Because—
he did understand part of that.
Not Yzer.
Not stalking.
Not possession disguised as affection.
But psychological warfare?
Yes.
Eon.
But there was a difference.
An enormous one.
Eon had done it to prepare him.
Sometimes cruelly.
Sometimes with methods Qaritas still questioned.
But toward a purpose.
The Fragments.
To make certain that when they crawled into his mind—
Qaritas would recognize the invasion.
Yzer wasn't preparing Xheavend for anything.
He was dismantling her.
Slowly.
Making himself part of her fear.
Her routine.
Her sleep.
Her blood.
And perhaps that was exactly why Qaritas had mistaken the two experiences for being closer than they were.
Xheavend looked toward Goro.
"He didn't make me drink the Elixir."
Goro's jaw tightened.
"I asked."
Qaritas frowned.
"And he gave it to you."
"Because without it Yzer could find me."
"You could die."
"I can't."
"You still suffer."
"I know."
"That's not better!"
"No."
Her voice softened.
"But it was my choice."
That stopped him.
"My body."
"My fear."
"My choice."
She swallowed.
"Goro gave me one."
Qaritas looked at the serpent.
Goro hadn't defended himself.
Hadn't interrupted.
Hadn't explained.
Just listened.
Xheavend continued.
"Yzer never does."
There.
That was the difference.
Qaritas closed his eyes.
Damn it.
He hated when everyone made sense.
Goro finally spoke.
"One day..."
Qaritas opened his eyes.
"...you will understand why I did what I did."
"I hate that sentence."
"I know."
"And if I don't?"
Goro smiled sadly.
"You will."
"How certain are you?"
"Completely."
Qaritas stared.
Another secret.
Wonderful.
Goro stepped closer.
His clawed hand rested briefly against Qaritas's shoulder.
"This is not the end of your training."
Qaritas frowned.
"You said—"
"I said you were leaving."
A faint smile.
"I never said I was finished with you."
Qaritas looked horrified.
Xheavend laughed.
"You hear that?"
"No."
"I did."
"I reject it."
Goro's smile widened.
"Someday..."
His golden eyes moved between them.
"...we will finish."
Qaritas sighed.
"That sounds threatening."
"It is."
Good.
Some things remained normal.
The fifth creature was fire.
Not using fire.
Fire wearing armor.
They entered a volcanic basin and the ground split apart beneath them.
Two gigantic crescent horns emerged first.
Black mineral on the outside.
Molten orange beneath.
Then the creature tore itself from the lava.
Eight limbs.
Each ending in hooked claws.
Its entire body was armored in volcanic plates so dark they reflected nothing.
Cracks between them glowed like magma beneath a dying world.
Four amber eyes opened vertically along its skull.
It screamed.
The volcano answered.
Lava erupted upward.
Qaritas and Xheavend ran.
Not away.
Apart.
The creature chose Xheavend.
Bad choice.
She led it across unstable crust.
It followed.
Too fast.
One claw struck her.
Armor tore.
She spun through the air.
Hit lava.
Disappeared.
The beast followed her movement.
Qaritas attacked from behind.
His blade hit armor.
Bounced.
"What are you MADE OF?!"
The creature whipped around.
Horn caught Qaritas beneath the ribs.
Lifted him.
Threw.
He flew several hundred feet.
Hit volcanic stone.
Everything went black.
For perhaps a second.
Maybe five.
When sight returned—
Xheavend was losing.
Actually losing.
The beast had adapted to her regeneration.
It didn't bother killing her.
It broke her.
Repeatedly.
One leg.
Then another.
Crushed her torso.
Pinned her while she healed.
Then crushed her again.
Qaritas saw red.
Started forward.
Stopped.
Love is not hesitation.
And love also wasn't stupidity.
He looked.
Really looked.
Goro's lesson.
Why did it keep pinning her?
Not killing.
Not feeding.
Restraining.
Its horns glowed brighter each time she regenerated.
Energy absorption?
No.
Heat.
Her healing generated heat.
The creature was feeding on thermal release.
Every regeneration made it stronger.
"XHEAVEND!"
She looked toward him.
Qaritas pointed at himself.
Then at her.
Then crossed both arms.
She understood.
Stop healing.
Her expression said very clearly—
Are you insane?
He nodded.
Probably.
She stopped.
The next claw broke her forearm.
It stayed broken.
The horn dimmed slightly.
Again.
Another injury.
No regeneration.
Dimmer.
The creature became slower.
Qaritas smiled.
"There."
Xheavend smiled back through blood.
"Oh."
They had been feeding it.
Again.
Of course.
The Labyrinth apparently had themes.
Qaritas drew darkness around himself.
No direct attack.
He cooled the space.
Void didn't erase the creature.
It removed heat.
Slowly.
The molten cracks dimmed.
Xheavend deliberately stayed injured.
Every instinct in Qaritas screamed at the sight.
He trusted her.
That was harder than protecting her.
The monster slowed.
Then—
Xheavend moved.
Broken arm.
Damaged leg.
No regeneration.
Still terrifying.
She slid beneath one horn.
Wrapped enchanted wire around it.
Qaritas grabbed the opposite end.
Together—
they pulled.
The creature charged.
Exactly what they wanted.
They jumped opposite directions.
The wire tightened across a volcanic pillar.
Momentum did the work.
One crescent horn snapped.
The beast screamed.
Molten fluid erupted from the stump.
Qaritas plunged his weapon into the exposed channel.
Void rushed inward.
Internal heat vanished.
The monster froze.
Literally.
Orange became black.
Magma became stone.
Xheavend healed.
Everything at once.
Bones snapped into place.
Flesh resealed.
She stood.
Then kicked the remaining horn.
It shattered.
The creature collapsed into volcanic glass.
Qaritas looked at her.
"You could have warned me before letting your body stay broken."
She stared.
"You told me to."
"Yes, but I didn't like it."
"That sounds like a you problem."
"It absolutely is."
Then came the last floor.
Goro stopped before the entrance.
Qaritas noticed.
That frightened him more than the creatures had.
The passage ahead was white.
Not bright.
Dead white.
The stone resembled bleached bone.
Green light seeped through cracks.
Five objects floated beyond the threshold.
Small.
Round.
Orbiting something hidden farther inside.
Goro didn't cross.
Xheavend looked at him.
"This is it."
"Yes."
"The last floor."
"Yes."
Qaritas looked between them.
"And you're staying here."
Goro's silence answered.
Xheavend's breathing changed.
Only slightly.
Not panic.
Not yet.
Goro stepped toward her.
Stopped before touching.
Always stopped.
"Little Lady."
Her jaw tightened.
"You promised."
"I promised to bring you here."
"I know."
She looked angry at herself for saying it.
Goro understood anyway.
His voice softened.
"I cannot take the next step for you."
Xheavend nodded.
Then looked away before he could see her eyes.
Too late.
He had already seen.
Qaritas did too.
The white floor moved.
Something enormous unfolded.
The first thing Qaritas understood was that it had no front.
No back.
A crescent-shaped central body rose from the chamber floor, pale armor cracked with veins of acid-green light.
Six uneven limbs unfolded from different parts of the crescent.
Inside the hollow center—
dozens of golden eyes opened.
Seven biological stones orbited around it.
Not five.
Two had been hidden.
Each sphere accelerated.
Goro spoke once.
"Kharvex."
Then stepped backward.
That was all the help they would receive.
The Kharvex attacked.
Every direction became front.
It rotated.
One limb struck from behind.
Another from above.
A third hooked Qaritas's ankle while the body continued facing Xheavend.
The orbiting stones became weapons.
One smashed into Qaritas's chest.
Another struck Xheavend's temple.
The third curved around after missing—
and came back.
"THEY HOME!"
Qaritas ducked.
"What?!"
"THE ROCKS!"
"That's a terrible name!"
"I'M BUSY!"
The Kharvex rotated again.
Its inner cavity opened.
Three feeding appendages lashed outward.
Xheavend cut one.
Two replaced it.
Qaritas erased another.
The missing space filled with green tissue.
Regeneration.
Naturally.
One orbiting stone struck him in the spine.
He fell.
Another hit his ribs before he landed.
A third smashed his face.
Blood exploded from his nose.
Xheavend screamed.
The Kharvex heard.
Every golden eye turned toward her.
All seven stones stopped.
Then launched.
At once.
Xheavend jumped.
One struck her thigh.
Gone.
Not injured.
Gone.
The impact removed a chunk of flesh as though the stone carried a local gravitational shear.
Another took part of her shoulder.
Another missed her skull by inches.
Qaritas stood.
Barely.
He watched the orbit.
Not the monster.
The stones.
Goro had spent years teaching him to watch systems.
Everything belonged to something larger.
Seven stones.
Seven trajectories.
Different speeds.
Different distances.
But—
one pattern.
"They're organs!"
Xheavend looked at him.
"What?"
"Not weapons!"
One stone curved.
Qaritas stepped into its path.
Xheavend's eyes widened.
"Q!"
The stone hit.
Qaritas grabbed it.
Every bone in his fingers broke instantly.
He screamed.
Held on.
Green energy climbed his arm.
The Kharvex convulsed.
Every golden eye snapped toward him.
There.
Connected.
Xheavend understood.
She attacked the remaining orbiting stones.
Not destroy.
Disrupt.
She kicked one into another.
Qaritas threw his captured sphere.
Three collided.
The Kharvex spasmed.
Its limbs lost synchronization.
One slammed into another.
The crescent body rotated incorrectly.
Its own weight carried it sideways.
Xheavend jumped onto the shell.
Ran across the white armor.
Qaritas followed.
The creature rotated.
They ran with it.
Not against it.
Like insects crossing a turning wheel.
Xheavend reached the inner cavity first.
Golden eyes looked up.
Dozens.
One enormous feeding appendage opened.
She hesitated.
One heartbeat.
Enough for it to strike.
Qaritas caught her.
The appendage wrapped both.
Pulled.
Straight toward the cavity.
Golden eyes widened.
Qaritas looked at Xheavend.
She looked at him.
Both smiled.
Same thought.
"Oh," Qaritas said.
"This again."
They allowed themselves to be swallowed.
Goro closed his eyes.
"Idiots."
The Kharvex's cavity sealed.
Its body stopped moving.
Silence.
Then—
green light flashed beneath every crack.
One orbiting stone exploded.
Then another.
Then another.
The Kharvex screamed.
Its white armor bulged outward.
A black line appeared across the crescent.
Void.
A red line crossed it.
Apocalypse.
The two met.
The shell split.
Qaritas and Xheavend erupted through the center together.
The Kharvex collapsed.
Its orbiting organs fell.
One.
Two.
Three.
Seven.
Hit the stone.
Stopped.
The acid-green veins went dark.
Qaritas landed on his back.
Xheavend beside him.
Neither moved.
Five seconds.
Ten.
Qaritas raised one finger.
"Alive."
Xheavend raised hers.
"Barely."
Goro walked toward them.
Qaritas turned his head.
"You could have helped."
"Yes."
"You chose not to."
"Yes."
Qaritas sat up.
Anger returned.
Not explosive.
Tired.
"You're really going to do this."
Goro looked at him.
"What?"
"Stand there and watch."
"Yes."
"Even knowing what's waiting outside."
Xheavend slowly sat up.
"Q."
"No."
He stood.
Blood ran down his face.
"You know Yzer is waiting."
Goro said nothing.
"You know what he's done."
"Yes."
"You know what he wants."
Goro's jaw flexed.
"Yes."
"And you still won't come."
Xheavend stepped between them.
"Stop."
Qaritas looked at her.
She shook her head.
"He's right."
"What?"
"I don't want him to be."
Her voice trembled.
"But he is."
"Xhea—"
Her pink eye remained on him.
"I need to know I can leave this place without Goro standing between me and him."
That hurt.
Because Qaritas understood now.
Not completely.
He never would.
But enough.
Eon had once forced him through psychological hell.
Made him question.
Provoked.
Manipulated.
Pressed wounds.
Dragged memories into places Qaritas wanted them buried.
But Eon's cruelty had been armor disguised as cruelty.
Preparation for the Fragments.
Yzer's cruelty had no lesson.
No destination.
No growth waiting at the end.
Only ownership.
One monster had tried to prepare Qaritas so nobody could own his mind.
The other wanted Xheavend to believe her mind had always belonged to him.
Not the same.
Never the same.
Qaritas looked at Goro.
"One day?"
Goro's expression softened.
"One day you will understand."
"I really hate that."
"I know."
"You're keeping too much from me."
"I know."
"You'll tell me eventually?"
A faint smile.
"No."
Qaritas blinked.
"...What?"
"Some things you must learn by living them."
"That is profoundly irritating."
"I know."
Goro's gaze moved between Qaritas and Xheavend.
"And someday..."
His smile became warmer.
"...we will finish your training."
Qaritas stared.
Xheavend laughed.
"What?"
Qaritas pointed at Goro.
"No."
Goro's smile widened.
"You haven't made me use both hands."
"I forced you to use one pinky."
"One."
"I nearly died."
"Progress."
"YOU ARE INSANE."
"Also progress."
Xheavend was laughing now.
Actually laughing.
Qaritas looked at her.
For one heartbeat—
he forgot Yzer.
Forgot time.
Forgot what waited outside.
Good.
Let her have that heartbeat.
At the far end of the chamber—
the wall opened.
Not like a door.
Like reality separating.
A vertical seam of white light appeared.
Expanded.
Beyond it—
night.
Real night.
Wind.
Ash.
A bruised crimson sky.
Vorakhyrn.
The world outside the Labyrinth.
Xheavend stopped laughing.
Goro's smile vanished.
This was it.
Qaritas felt the Chronolock inside his pocket.
The Book beneath his arm.
Rivax's weapon against his back.
Every lesson.
Every scar.
Every master.
Ten years.
All of it had brought him here.
Goro approached Qaritas first.
No speech.
No dramatic ceremony.
He reached up.
Grabbed the silver cloak.
Then pulled the hood down over Qaritas's head.
Immediately—
the world loosened around him.
Goro's eyes lost focus.
Not because he couldn't see Qaritas.
Because existence itself began having difficulty remembering exactly where Qaritas stood.
The cloak's silver fabric darkened.
Then disappeared.
Qaritas's hands vanished.
Body.
Shadow.
Presence.
Concept.
Gone.
Xheavend stared at the empty space.
"I hate that cloak."
Qaritas's voice came from nowhere.
"Jealous."
"No."
"You sound jealous."
"I can still punch you."
"...Fair."
Goro looked directly toward the place Qaritas occupied.
Of course he knew.
He always knew.
One clawed hand reached into nothing.
Found Qaritas's shoulder.
Squeezed.
"Brother."
Qaritas swallowed.
"Yeah?"
"Remember what I taught you."
"Everything is poison?"
"Everything can be."
"Never fight fairly?"
"If fairness endangers someone you're protecting."
"Pain is information."
"Not authority."
"Don't trust your senses."
"Understand them."
Qaritas smiled beneath the invisible hood.
"Anything else?"
Goro looked toward Xheavend.
Then back.
"Don't decide her choices for her."
That one landed.
Qaritas nodded.
"You have my word."
Goro released him.
Then turned toward Xheavend.
For a moment—
neither moved.
Then Xheavend walked forward.
She didn't hug him.
Not immediately.
She stood close.
Looking up.
Trying to memorize his face.
Goro seemed to be doing the same.
"Little Lady."
Her throat moved.
"Snake."
His mouth twitched.
"Come home."
She looked toward the portal.
"I'll try."
"No."
Xheavend looked back.
Goro's golden eyes burned.
"Come home."
Not—
win.
Not—
save the world.
Not—
kill Yzer.
Come home.
Her eyes filled.
She smiled anyway.
"Bossy."
"I learned from you."
"No, you didn't."
"Then perhaps Qaritas."
From somewhere beneath the cloak—
"Why am I being blamed?"
Xheavend laughed through tears.
Then stepped forward.
Hugged Goro.
He wrapped both arms around her.
Tightly.
Not enough to imprison.
Enough to remember.
Then he let go.
That mattered.
Goro stepped backward.
Xheavend stepped toward the portal.
Her hand extended slightly toward the empty air beside her.
Not asking.
Just offering.
Qaritas's invisible fingers took hers.
She squeezed once.
"You there?"
"Unfortunately."
"Good."
They stood together before the white seam.
Behind them—
Goro.
The Labyrinth.
Yrtana.
Ten years.
Ahead—
Vorakhyrn.
Yzer.
War.
Xheavend breathed in.
Qaritas felt her hand tremble.
He didn't tighten his grip.
Didn't drag.
Didn't say—
Don't be afraid.
She had every reason to be afraid.
Instead—
"I'm here."
Xheavend nodded.
"I know."
Together—
they stepped through.
The portal closed behind them.
Goro disappeared.
The Labyrinth disappeared.
Warmth disappeared.
Cold wind struck Xheavend's face.
Ash moved across black stone.
Chains hung between distant towers.
The sky above Vorakhyrn burned crimson and violet.
Qaritas remained beside her.
Invisible.
Conceptually forgotten.
For half a second—
nothing happened.
Xheavend breathed.
Once.
Twice.
Maybe—
Maybe they had time.
Then—
a familiar voice came from directly behind her.
Warm.
Gentle.
Almost affectionate.
The voice of someone greeting family after a long absence.
"Hello, pet."
Xheavend stopped breathing.