Some chains are forged to imprison.
Others are made to measure suffering.
And the cruelest chains?
Those are the ones their makers never intended to remove.
The dead were restless.
Which was unusual.
Not because the dead were ordinarily peaceful.
They weren't.
Especially not in Oisdara.
At the hollow edge of the First Universe, where galaxies unraveled like dying dreams and the last breaths of forgotten gods burned inside glass lanterns, the Ossuary Stage stood beneath a sky that had never known morning.
Its balconies curved like the ribs of an enormous carcass.
Its seats were carved from star-marred marrow.
Its curtains were sewn from funeral veils stolen from civilizations that no longer existed.
And its audience—
well.
They had been waiting.
Again.
A headless corpse occupied the front row, holding its skull in its lap.
Two skeletons argued over an arm neither remembered owning.
A woman whose body had been reduced to ash sat perfectly upright, her shape maintained by the memory of how she had died.
Somewhere in the upper balcony, a dead emperor was attempting to remove a crown that had fused to his skull.
He had been trying for several centuries.
It was becoming embarrassing.
Then—
TAP.
A heel struck the stage.
Every corpse stopped moving.
TAP.
The lanterns flickered.
TAP.
The curtain of black silk parted.
And from the darkness—
she emerged.
Hela Grimm.
Her long black hair flowed behind her like spilled ink suspended in water. Mourning silk embraced her figure, embroidered with tiny bones and silver threads that moved independently of the fabric.
A cracked raven-shaped skull mask concealed the upper half of her face.
Behind it—
two violet eyes burned.
Not like stars.
Stars were far too young to resemble them.
She walked toward her throne of horror-bones, trailing a shadow that moved several moments behind her.
Then—
she smiled.
"Hello again, my little nightmares."
A corpse applauded.
Its left hand fell off.
Hela looked toward it.
"Oh, darling."
She sighed.
"Do try to keep yourself together. We have an exceptionally complicated evening ahead."
The corpse retrieved its hand.
The audience chuckled.
Or attempted to.
Some no longer possessed the necessary organs.
Hela settled upon her throne, crossing one elegant leg over the other.
For a moment, she said nothing.
She simply observed them.
The dead.
The forgotten.
The creatures who had witnessed the births and deaths of civilizations and still found themselves hungry for another story.
Then—
she leaned forward.
"Tell me, loves."
Her violet eyes brightened.
"Have you ever wondered what happens when two moments in time begin moving toward the same disaster?"
Silence.
"One moment belongs to the present."
She lifted her right hand.
A small sphere appeared above her palm.
Within it—
a mountain burned.
Chains glowed violet.
A colossal figure writhed beneath volcanic stone.
"And the other..."
She raised her left hand.
Another sphere formed.
A fortress appeared.
A throne.
An enormous table surrounded by beings who had long ago mistaken cruelty for authority.
"...belongs to the past."
The spheres floated toward one another.
They did not touch.
Not yet.
Hela smiled.
"Now, before any of you begin losing your heads over the matter—"
She glanced toward the headless corpse.
"Again."
A few skeletons rattled with laughter.
"Allow me to explain."
She stood.
"From this point forward, our story shall no longer walk along a single road."
The mountain rotated within one sphere.
The fortress rotated within the other.
"We shall begin with Qaritas."
Her voice softened.
"Our delightful, sarcastic Ascendant of the Void, who has developed the unfortunate habit of involving himself in matters that should have remained buried."
A dead woman raised her hand.
Hela tilted her head.
"Yes, darling?"
"Will he die?"
Hela stared at her.
Then—
laughed.
"Oh, sweetheart."
Her smile widened.
"Death is considerably less permanent than you seem to believe."
She gestured toward the audience.
"Surely you, of all people, should understand that."
The woman slowly lowered her hand.
"Now."
Hela approached the first sphere.
"We shall watch our beloved Qaritas struggle with a rather unpleasant predicament beneath the mountains of Lamentis."
She extended one finger.
The sphere expanded.
"And afterward..."
Her violet eyes shifted toward the second.
"We shall take a little trip."
The lanterns dimmed.
"Back through time."
The stage trembled.
"To visit some old acquaintances."
A corpse in the upper balcony groaned.
Hela's smile became wicked.
"Oh, don't look so frightened."
She leaned closer.
"They aren't friends."
A pause.
"They merely tolerate one another."
Her eyes glimmered.
"And believe me, loves..."
The second sphere revealed three distant silhouettes.
A woman surrounded by chains.
A man sitting beneath a thousand clocks.
And another whose smile belonged to something that should never have learned how to wear a face.
"...that is considerably worse."
Hela raised her hand.
"One final thing."
The theater became silent.
"Remember that we are privileged spectators."
She placed a finger against the beak of her raven mask.
"We know things that those within the story do not."
Her smile disappeared.
"Knowledge does not travel backward simply because we are watching the past."
She looked toward the second sphere.
"Those monsters have their own secrets."
Then toward the first.
"And Qaritas has his."
She spread her arms.
"So..."
The curtain began to open.
"Shall we see what happens when a god discovers that someone has been counting his screams?"
SNAP.
The stage vanished.
"Shall we see how much longer you can endure?"
The woman's voice drifted through the cavern.
Soft.
Sweet.
Almost affectionate.
Qaritas decided he hated it.
Immediately.
Which was impressive, considering he had only heard her speak twice.
Before him, an enormous black crystal pulsed within the chains restraining Altest.
Three dying stars glimmered inside its surface.
Not reflections.
Not decorations.
Something resembling eyes.
Behind them—
a woman's silhouette.
"Well, well."
Her voice brightened.
"Visitors."
The chains tightened.
KRRRRRRNNNNG.
Altest convulsed.
His enormous body lurched against the volcanic stone.
Crimson fire burst through the fractures in his charcoal skin.
A terrible groan escaped him.
Ylaris raised both hands.
"ALTEST!"
Golden solar fire surged toward the failing containment rings.
Kysena extended her moonlight across the platform, reinforcing the cracked inscriptions.
Xheavend stepped forward.
And Qaritas—
stared at the crystal.
"...You."
The three dying stars turned toward him.
"Oh?"
The woman sounded delighted.
"Someone recognizes my handiwork?"
Qaritas folded his arms.
"Unfortunately."
"How charming."
"Not the word I'd use."
"Then what word would you use?"
Qaritas considered.
"Several."
A pause.
"Most inappropriate for polite conversation."
The woman laughed.
Behind him—
"QARITAS!"
He turned.
The Book floated above the platform, its grotesque cover twitching as its pages flipped violently.
CONTAINMENT STABILITY: 7%.
Then—
6.9%.
Qaritas stared.
"...Oh, that is just insulting."
The crystal brightened.
"Six point nine?"
The woman's voice became amused.
"Altest, darling, you're slipping."
The Fire Ascendant's enormous fingers tightened around the stone.
His molten eyes opened.
And for the first time—
Qaritas saw something in them beyond pain.
Hatred.
Pure.
Ancient.
Exhausted hatred.
"...Eirisa."
The woman sighed happily.
"There you are."
Altest's chest heaved.
"...Monster."
"Oh, don't be cruel."
Her voice softened.
"I've been checking on you."
Qaritas stared at the crystal.
"Checking?"
"Naturally."
He gestured toward the chains.
"Is that what we're calling this?"
"Would you prefer monitoring?"
"I'd prefer you being thrown into a furnace."
A pause.
Then—
she laughed.
"How delightful."
Qaritas smiled without warmth.
"I try."
Xheavend hadn't moved.
Not since the voice appeared.
Her hands were curled into fists.
Her mismatched eyes remained fixed on the three dying stars.
One red.
One pink.
Beneath them—
blood.
Qaritas noticed immediately.
"Xhea?"
She didn't answer.
The crystal pulsed.
Eirisa continued.
"Now, where was I?"
A pause.
"Ah, yes."
The chains tightened again.
Altest screamed.
Ylaris's golden fire surged.
"STOP!"
The cavern shook.
Black volcanic mud erupted against the containment rings.
Kysena cried out.
"THE SEAL!"
Qaritas turned.
The Book's pages flashed.
6.7%.
6.5%.
He looked toward the crystal.
Then—
something inside him went very still.
Not calm.
Not peaceful.
Just—
still.
He had seen this before.
Not these exact chains.
Not this exact cavern.
But the cruelty.
The amusement.
The way monsters turned suffering into entertainment.
The way they pretended it was a conversation.
Qaritas stepped closer.
"Eirisa."
The three stars focused on him.
"Yes, darling?"
"You're going to stop."
Silence.
Then—
a delighted laugh.
"Oh?"
"Yes."
"And why would I do that?"
Qaritas glanced toward Altest.
The enormous Ascendant was struggling to breathe.
Ylaris's flames supported the failing rings.
Kysena's moonlight flowed through the cracked stone.
Xheavend remained motionless.
Qaritas looked back.
"Because if you break the seal, you lose whatever you've been measuring."
The laughter stopped.
"You've spent years studying how long he can survive."
Silence.
"You wouldn't do that if you wanted him dead immediately."
The three stars narrowed.
Qaritas smiled.
"So either you're very bad at your job..."
He leaned closer.
"Or you don't actually want the mountain to erupt."
For several seconds—
nothing happened.
Then—
Eirisa laughed.
Slowly.
Softly.
"You're clever."
"Occasionally."
"And terribly presumptuous."
"Frequently."
"Oh, I do like that."
"Tragic. The feeling isn't mutual."
The crystal brightened.
"Tell me, little traveler. What makes you think you understand my work?"
Qaritas looked toward the black crystal.
Toward the measurements.
Toward Altest's exhausted body.
Then—
"Because you haven't killed him."
A pause.
"Not yet."
Eirisa's three stars rotated.
"And what an interesting distinction that is."
The chains shifted.
Not tightening.
Not loosening.
Waiting.
Qaritas noticed.
So did Ylaris.
"Keep talking," the Sun Ascendant murmured.
Qaritas didn't look back.
"Unfortunately, that's one of my greatest talents."
He returned his attention to the crystal.
"You need him alive."
"Do I?"
"Yes."
"How confident."
"You're welcome."
Eirisa laughed.
Then—
"Perhaps."
The Book opened again.
6.5%.
The number stopped falling.
Qaritas exhaled.
Not with relief.
He wasn't foolish enough for that.
But it was something.
A moment.
And at present—
a moment was all they had.
Xheavend could hear something.
Not the chains.
Not Altest.
Not even the woman speaking through the crystal.
Something beneath the voice.
A memory.
A laugh.
Eight years ago—
in the Third Universe—
a child had crouched inside a cage while distant voices traveled through the walls of Yeitshoja.
She remembered the cold floor.
The smell of iron.
The terrible exhaustion that followed another examination.
And a woman's voice.
Playful.
Cruel.
Impatient.
An invisible slave? How disappointing.
Xheavend's fingers trembled.
She had never seen the woman's face.
Not then.
But she remembered the laughter.
She remembered Yzer answering it.
And she remembered the sound of someone finding her suffering amusing.
Now—
that same voice was speaking through the crystal.
"Xhea?"
Qaritas's hand settled gently against her shoulder.
She flinched.
He immediately withdrew it.
"Sorry."
Xheavend swallowed.
Her gaze remained fixed on the three dying stars.
"...I know her."
Qaritas went still.
"What?"
"Her voice."
The crystal continued glowing.
Eirisa was speaking to Altest again, commenting upon the condition of his elemental core.
She sounded almost bored.
Xheavend's breathing quickened.
"I heard her before."
Qaritas lowered his voice.
"Where?"
She looked toward him.
For one terrible moment—
she wasn't standing beneath a mountain.
She was nine years old again.
Cold.
Frightened.
Waiting for footsteps.
"...Yeitshoja."
Qaritas's expression changed.
The name was enough.
He understood.
Not everything.
But enough.
"Was she there?"
Xheavend shook her head.
"I don't know."
A pause.
"I only heard her."
Her hands tightened.
"She was talking to him."
Qaritas didn't ask who.
He already knew.
Yzer.
Xheavend stared at the crystal.
"She knew he had someone."
A tear of blood slipped down her cheek.
"She knew..."
Her voice broke.
"...and she laughed."
Qaritas felt something cold settle inside his chest.
He had spent enough time with Xheavend to recognize when a memory was dragging her somewhere she didn't want to go.
He stepped between her and the crystal.
"Look at me."
She didn't.
"Xhea."
Her eyes moved toward his.
"You're here."
Silence.
"Not there."
Her breathing shook.
"And whatever she said then—"
He glanced toward the crystal.
"—she doesn't get to decide what happens to you now."
Xheavend stared at him.
For several seconds—
nothing.
Then—
she nodded.
Once.
Small.
But real.
Behind Qaritas, the crystal flickered.
"Oh?"
Eirisa's voice brightened.
"Are we having a private conversation?"
Qaritas turned.
"Yes."
"How rude."
"Wonderful. You've noticed."
"Perhaps you'd care to share?"
"No."
A pause.
Then—
Eirisa laughed.
"Such terrible manners."
Qaritas smiled.
"I was raised by circumstances."
"Clearly."
The three stars shifted toward Xheavend.
"Your companion seems rather distressed."
Qaritas's expression hardened.
"She doesn't enjoy your voice."
"Oh, dear."
Eirisa sounded delighted.
"How unfortunate."
Xheavend looked up.
For one moment—
her mismatched eyes glowed.
One red.
One pink.
And something ancient moved beneath them.
Eirisa stopped laughing.
Not because she recognized the girl.
She didn't.
The crystal was a remote instrument, its vision imperfect, its attention divided among chains and measurements.
But something had brushed against the binding.
Something that did not belong to the elemental seal.
"...Interesting."
Qaritas immediately stepped sideways.
Blocking her view.
"Eyes on me."
Eirisa chuckled.
"Protective."
"Annoyed."
"Both, perhaps."
"You're becoming repetitive."
"And you're becoming entertaining."
The Book snapped open.
CONTAINMENT STABILITY: 6.5%.
Then—
6.6%.
Ylaris looked up.
"Kysena!"
"I see it!"
Moonlight spread through the original elemental inscriptions.
Ylaris pressed his palms against the central fire ring.
His solar flames did not attempt to destroy the foreign chains.
Instead—
they flowed around them.
Supporting what remained of the original seal.
Qaritas noticed the difference.
"...You're reinforcing the mountain."
Ylaris nodded.
"We cannot remove the foreign binding without understanding what it is connected to."
"And if we break it?"
Kysena answered.
"We risk destroying the containment along with the chains."
Qaritas stared.
"...Wonderful."
The Book turned another page.
DO NOT SEVER THE CENTRAL ANCHOR.
He looked at it.
"Yes, thank you. We've established that everything here is terrible."
Another line appeared.
THREE ANCHORS REMAIN UNACCOUNTED FOR.
Qaritas's expression changed.
"...Three?"
The Book shuddered.
Its pages turned.
FOUR ELEMENTAL ASCENDANTS.
FOUR DIVINE SOURCES.
FOUR ANCHORS SUSTAINING A SINGLE NETWORK.
Qaritas slowly looked toward Altest.
"...You're telling me his chains aren't isolated."
The Book's violet gemstones flashed.
CORRECT.
Another page turned.
A diagram appeared.
Four enormous circles.
Each containing the silhouette of an elemental being.
The first burned crimson.
The remaining three were black.
Thin violet lines connected them.
Qaritas stared.
"Altest."
The first circle pulsed.
"Arthan."
The second flickered.
"Ariyion."
The third.
"Akaizu."
The fourth.
Ylaris stepped closer.
His golden eyes narrowed.
"...My brothers."
The Book revealed another sentence.
THE PRISONS ARE CONNECTED THROUGH THEIR CAPTIVES.
Silence.
Kysena looked toward the chains.
"Then the anchors aren't objects."
Qaritas shook his head.
"...No."
He looked toward Altest.
"They're the Ascendants themselves."
The Book trembled.
THE FOUR ARE BEING USED AS LIVING ANCHORS.
Ylaris went completely still.
Qaritas continued studying the diagram.
"If we destroy Altest's chains without understanding the connection..."
The four circles flashed.
CATASTROPHIC CASCADE POSSIBLE.
"...We could kill the others."
No one spoke.
Then—
Ylaris lowered his head.
His fists tightened.
"Arthan."
A pause.
"Ariyion."
His voice broke slightly.
"Akaizu."
Qaritas looked toward the enormous Fire Ascendant.
Altest was watching them.
And beneath the exhaustion—
beneath the pain—
something resembling hope had appeared in his molten eyes.
That was considerably more frightening than the chains.
Hope meant someone was depending on them.
Qaritas closed the Book.
"...Then we find the other three."
Ylaris looked toward him.
"And Altest?"
Qaritas glanced at the containment rings.
"We keep him alive."
A pause.
"All four of them."
He looked toward the dark crystal.
"And when we finally understand how these chains work..."
His expression hardened.
"...we dismantle every last one."
He looked toward Ylaris.
The Sun Ascendant had already seen the message.
His expression was grim.
"We need to find them."
"Yes."
"And we need to keep Altest alive until we do."
"Yes."
Qaritas sighed.
"Have you considered giving me an easy problem?"
Ylaris didn't smile.
Neither did Qaritas.
Because Altest was watching them.
Qaritas looked toward the crystal.
"Eirisa."
"Yes, darling?"
"Enjoy your little experiment while you can."
A delighted pause.
"Is that a threat?"
"No."
He smiled.
"It's a promise."
For the first time—
Eirisa did not immediately laugh.
Then—
the three dying stars blinked.
"How adorable."
The crystal darkened.
Her silhouette dissolved.
And the chains fell silent.
Not broken.
Not defeated.
Simply—
waiting.
Qaritas stared at the empty crystal.
"...I hate her."
Kysena exhaled.
"That was obvious."
"Good. I was worried I hadn't communicated it properly."
Ylaris looked toward Altest.
The enormous Ascendant's eyes had closed.
His breathing was shallow.
But the elemental rings continued glowing.
6.6%.
Holding.
For now.
Xheavend stepped closer to Qaritas.
"...She doesn't know."
He looked at her.
"Know what?"
Xheavend stared toward the dark crystal.
"Who I am."
Qaritas considered that.
Then nodded.
"No."
A pause.
"And I'd prefer to keep it that way."
Xheavend looked toward the chains.
"...Me too."
The Book turned a page.
One sentence appeared.
THE CHAINS ARE NOT THE BEGINNING.
Qaritas frowned.
"...What?"
Another sentence emerged.
FIND THE HAND THAT ORDERED THEM.
He stared.
Then slowly—
looked toward the mountain.
"...Oh."
He didn't like that.
Not at all.
Because chains required a maker.
But prisons—
prisons sometimes required someone else.
Someone who decided what deserved to be locked away.
And somewhere beyond Lamentis—
someone had made that decision.
CLAP.
The sound echoed through the Ossuary Stage.
The image of the mountain shattered into thousands of violet fragments.
The dead stirred.
A skeleton in the front row leaned forward so quickly that its spine collapsed.
Hela Grimm smiled.
"Oh, what a delightful little confrontation."
She reclined upon her throne.
"An imprisoned god. A clever traveler. A frightened girl who recognizes a voice she would rather forget."
She tilted her head.
"And a woman who believes suffering is simply another form of craftsmanship."
A corpse raised its hand.
Hela sighed.
"Yes, darling?"
"Is the woman dead?"
Hela stared.
Then—
laughed.
"Oh, no."
Her violet eyes narrowed.
"Not nearly."
She rose.
"And that, my precious nightmares, brings us to the second half of our entertainment."
The theater darkened.
Above the stage—
the image of the mountain remained suspended.
But beside it—
another image appeared.
A fortress.
Enormous.
Ancient.
Built from black stone that appeared to have been carved out of the spaces between dying stars.
Thousands of chains hung beneath its towers.
Some held bells.
Some held bodies.
Others held nothing at all.
And above its highest spire—
clocks floated.
Thousands of them.
Their hands moved in different directions.
Some forward.
Some backward.
Some did not move.
Others ticked with the rhythm of hearts that no longer existed.
Hela approached the image.
"Now."
Her voice softened.
"Let us visit a different moment."
She raised one finger.
"Not tomorrow."
Another.
"Not yesterday."
Her smile widened.
"But a past that has already wounded our present."
The fortress rotated above her palm.
"Now, don't misunderstand me, loves. We aren't traveling thousands of years into history."
She chuckled.
"Only a little way backward."
The stars within the sphere reversed their movements.
"Altest has already been imprisoned. His chains have already begun drinking from his divine essence. And somewhere in the Third Universe, the Warden continues collecting things that were never his to possess."
Hela approached the audience.
"What we are about to witness occurred shortly before our dear Qaritas discovered the suffering beneath Lamentis."
She paused.
"Close enough that the consequences are still unfolding."
Her violet eyes brightened.
"Yet far enough that the monsters we are about to visit have no idea someone will soon begin interfering with their carefully arranged little atrocities."
A skeleton raised its hand.
"How many monsters?"
Hela laughed.
"Oh, darling."
She spread her arms.
"Two thousand Fragments exist across the universes. Two thousand pieces of a catastrophe that should never have been allowed to continue."
The lanterns flickered.
"Tonight, however, we shall visit only three."
She smiled.
"The others have their own affairs."
Her expression darkened.
"And some are considerably worse company."
The fortress expanded.
"Now, shall we?"
SNAP.
The curtain vanished.
The dead leaned forward.
"Do remember, loves, that the beings we are about to visit have not witnessed the conversation beneath Lamentis."
The image of Qaritas faded.
"They have not learned the names of those travelers."
Xheavend's image vanished.
"Nor have they discovered the peculiar little timepiece accompanying them."
The last image disappeared.
"Such knowledge belongs to another moment."
She leaned closer.
"And time, as you shall soon discover, is not always generous enough to share."
A skeletal emperor raised his hand.
Hela ignored him.
"Our next guests are rather old."
She smiled.
"Rather powerful."
The fortress expanded.
"And utterly incapable of enjoying one another's company."
A corpse chuckled.
Hela lifted her hand.
"First..."
Three dying stars appeared.
"...the Chainmaker."
A second silhouette formed.
A man seated beneath an impossible arrangement of clocks.
"Then..."
Her voice became colder.
"...the Warden."
A third figure emerged.
Still.
Observant.
A presence that seemed to regard existence as an experiment whose results had become disappointing.
"And, of course..."
Hela smiled.
"...our wonderfully insufferable intellectual."
The curtain began to close around her.
"One last warning."
Her violet eyes burned through the darkness.
"Do not mistake cooperation for loyalty."
The theater became silent.
"These creatures do not love one another."
A pause.
"They do not trust one another."
Her smile sharpened.
"And if one of them were to die tomorrow..."
She laughed softly.
"...the others would probably complain about the inconvenience of disposing of the body."
SNAP.
The curtain vanished.
Eirisa was bored.
Terribly.
Spectacularly.
Offensively bored.
Which was unfortunate for everyone within several thousand miles of her.
She sat upon the edge of an enormous black table, one leg crossed over the other, while thin violet chains drifted lazily around her body.
They moved like living ribbons.
Some disappeared into her sleeves.
Others wound around her fingers.
One had wrapped itself around a goblet and was slowly crushing it.
Eirisa watched.
CRACK.
The goblet shattered.
She sighed.
"...How disappointing."
Across the table—
Ecayrous did not look up.
"Then stop destroying the furniture."
Eirisa smiled.
"Good afternoon to you too."
"It was."
"Oh?"
"Until you arrived."
She laughed.
"How affectionate."
Ecayrous continued examining a collection of floating symbols.
They rotated above his hands.
Numbers.
Equations.
Fragments of cosmic law.
Some were written in languages that had never been spoken by anything possessing a mouth.
Eirisa leaned closer.
"What are you doing?"
"Working."
"On?"
"Something."
"How mysterious."
"How observant."
She grinned.
"Oh, you really are unpleasant."
Ecayrous finally looked up.
His expression was perfectly composed.
"You're sitting on my calculations."
Eirisa glanced beneath herself.
A circle of symbols flickered across the table.
She shifted slightly.
"Better?"
"No."
"Wonderful."
She remained exactly where she was.
Ecayrous stared.
Then—
the symbols beneath her vanished.
Eirisa blinked.
"...Oh."
"They're elsewhere now."
"Where?"
"Somewhere you aren't."
She laughed.
"You're no fun."
"I have been told."
A pause.
"Usually by you."
Eirisa swung her legs.
Around them—
the chamber remained silent.
An enormous circular hall stretched beneath a ceiling filled with artificial constellations.
There were no windows.
No doors visible from where she sat.
Only passages that appeared when their master permitted them to exist.
The clocks along the walls ticked.
Some measured years.
Others measured civilizations.
One recorded the number of living beings who had died since the last time its owner had spoken.
Eirisa found that particular clock amusing.
She had asked to borrow it.
The answer had been no.
Naturally.
She had tried anyway.
It had bitten her.
She still resented that.
"...Where is he?"
Ecayrous didn't look up.
"Who?"
Eirisa stared.
"The Warden."
"Elsewhere."
"Obviously."
"Then why ask?"
She tilted her head.
"Do you ever get tired of being insufferable?"
"No."
"How tragic."
"Indeed."
A chain curled around her wrist.
Eirisa glanced at it.
A small image formed within its links.
An enormous figure.
Fire.
Stone.
Pain.
A captive struggling against bindings buried beneath a mountain.
She smiled.
"Oh."
Ecayrous continued working.
Eirisa leaned forward.
"Would you like to see something beautiful?"
"No."
She showed him anyway.
A projection appeared above the table.
An enormous elemental figure writhed beneath volcanic stone.
Golden fire flowed through rings surrounding his body.
Black chains pierced the spaces between them.
Ecayrous glanced up.
"...An elemental Ascendant."
"Yes."
"Fire."
"Very good."
He examined the image.
"Those chains are interfering with the original containment."
Eirisa smiled.
"Naturally."
"You'll destabilize it."
"Eventually."
"That wasn't praise."
"I know."
Ecayrous studied the projection.
Then—
"Why is he still alive?"
Eirisa's smile widened.
"Oh, darling."
She leaned closer.
"Because killing something is easy."
A pause.
"Keeping it alive while measuring how much of itself it can lose..."
Her three dying stars brightened.
"...that requires artistry."
Ecayrous stared.
"That's not artistry."
"No?"
"It's inefficient cruelty."
She laughed.
"And yet you're still looking."
"I'm assessing the consequences."
"How romantic."
"Your definition of romance is defective."
"Probably."
She dismissed the projection.
The chains returned to her sleeves.
Ecayrous watched her for another moment.
Then—
"Does the Warden know?"
Eirisa tilted her head.
"About the elemental?"
"About the extent of the interference."
She smiled.
"He knows enough."
"That isn't an answer."
"No."
She agreed cheerfully.
"It isn't."
Ecayrous sighed.
"You're going to create a problem."
Eirisa leaned backward.
"Darling, we are Fragments."
Her smile sharpened.
"Creating problems is practically a professional qualification."
Yzer disliked being interrupted.
He disliked incompetence.
He disliked disorder.
But most of all—
he disliked being told that something had escaped his control.
Which was why the creature kneeling before him had made a particularly unfortunate decision.
"...Repeat that."
The creature trembled.
Its body was covered in pale markings.
Symbols crawled beneath its skin.
One of its arms hung at an unnatural angle.
"My lord..."
Yzer smiled.
A gentle smile.
Almost kind.
"Yes?"
"The eastern observation chamber has stopped responding."
Silence.
Yzer sat upon his throne.
One hand rested against the armrest.
The other held a small black vial.
Within it—
a thin thread of dark fluid moved.
Not much.
Barely enough to be considered a sample.
He turned the vial between his fingers.
"And?"
The creature swallowed.
"The instruments were damaged."
"How?"
"We don't know."
Yzer's smile remained.
"Then I suppose you should find out."
"Yes, my lord."
The creature bowed.
But did not move.
Yzer noticed.
Naturally.
"...Is there something else?"
The creature hesitated.
"The guards stationed there..."
A pause.
"They're missing."
Silence.
One of the clocks stopped.
Yzer looked toward it.
Then—
back at the creature.
"Missing?"
"Yes, my lord."
"How many?"
"Seven."
Yzer considered.
Seven guards.
An observation chamber.
Damaged instruments.
An irritating amount of paperwork.
He sighed.
"How inconvenient."
The creature lowered its head.
"We're searching—"
"Stop."
The word was quiet.
Almost gentle.
The creature froze.
Its body obeyed before its mind could understand what had happened.
Yzer stood.
Walked down the steps of his throne.
Stopped before it.
And crouched.
"There is something I would like you to understand."
His voice remained soft.
"When I ask a question..."
He tilted his head.
"...I expect an answer."
The creature shook.
"Yes, my lord."
"And when something under my authority disappears..."
Yzer smiled.
"...I expect someone to notice before seven guards vanish."
The creature began trembling harder.
"Forgive me."
Yzer studied it.
For several seconds—
nothing.
Then—
he stood.
"Find them."
The creature gasped.
Its limbs moved again.
"Yes, my lord!"
"And repair the instruments."
"Immediately!"
Yzer turned away.
"Oh."
The creature stopped.
Yzer looked over his shoulder.
"One more thing."
"Yes?"
"If you discover that someone deliberately interfered with my observation chamber..."
His smile widened.
"...bring them to me alive."
A pause.
"I should very much like to ask them why."
The creature bowed so deeply its forehead struck the floor.
Then fled.
Yzer watched it leave.
His smile faded.
The black vial shifted in his hand.
He looked down.
The dark fluid had gathered along one side of the glass.
Strange.
It had been behaving differently lately.
Not responding as expected.
Not entirely inert.
Not entirely active.
He raised it toward the light.
"...Interesting."
A faint pulse traveled through the fluid.
Then vanished.
Yzer stared.
For several moments—
he said nothing.
Then—
he smiled.
"Well."
He slipped the vial into his sleeve.
"That deserves further investigation."
Behind him—
a door appeared.
Not opened.
Appeared.
Black stone folded away.
And from the passage beyond—
a familiar voice called.
"Yzer!"
He closed his eyes.
Eirisa.
Wonderful.
He had almost been enjoying himself.
Eirisa was sitting on the table.
Again.
Ecayrous was pretending not to be irritated.
Again.
And one of the chairs had somehow become several thousand years older than the others.
Yzer stopped in the doorway.
Looked at the chair.
Then at Eirisa.
"...What happened?"
She smiled.
"Nothing."
He looked toward Ecayrous.
The other Fragment didn't look up.
"She happened."
Eirisa laughed.
"You're both so unkind."
Yzer approached the table.
"Did you damage the chamber?"
"No."
A pause.
"Not intentionally."
Ecayrous sighed.
Yzer looked toward her.
"Eirisa."
"Yes, darling?"
"Please refrain from dismantling my possessions."
She tilted her head.
"Which possessions?"
"All of them."
"How restrictive."
"How necessary."
He sat.
Eirisa watched him.
Then—
her eyes narrowed.
"...You're in a good mood."
Yzer smiled.
"Am I?"
"Yes."
"How observant."
Ecayrous finally looked up.
"Something happened."
Yzer folded his hands.
"Several things happen every moment."
"Don't be tiresome."
Eirisa gasped.
"Oh, I love it when you two argue."
Yzer ignored her.
Ecayrous studied him.
"You're investigating something."
"Always."
"Something unusual."
"Often."
"Something you don't understand."
Yzer's smile widened.
"Now that would be interesting."
Ecayrous stared.
Then returned to his work.
"I regret asking."
Eirisa leaned forward.
"Well, now I want to know."
"Of course you do."
"Tell me."
"No."
She blinked.
"...No?"
"No."
A chain curled around her finger.
"That's terribly rude."
Yzer smiled.
"And yet you'll survive."
"Perhaps."
Her chains shifted.
Yzer's eyes moved toward them.
The temperature in the chamber changed.
Not dramatically.
Not enough for ordinary beings to notice.
But Ecayrous noticed.
He sighed.
"Don't."
Neither looked at him.
Eirisa smiled.
"Don't what?"
"Whatever idiotic demonstration of power you're considering."
Yzer chuckled.
"I wasn't considering anything."
"Neither was I," Eirisa said sweetly.
Ecayrous looked between them.
"You're both lying."
Silence.
Then—
Eirisa laughed.
Yzer smiled.
And for a moment—
the chamber became almost pleasant.
Almost.
Because beneath the amusement—
none of them trusted the others.
Eirisa knew that Yzer collected secrets.
Yzer knew that Eirisa enjoyed testing boundaries.
And Ecayrous knew that both were capable of destroying something valuable simply to discover how it worked.
They cooperated when cooperation benefited them.
They tolerated one another when separation was inconvenient.
And they watched one another constantly.
Not as companions.
As predators sharing territory.
Yzer glanced toward the projection hovering above the table.
An elemental figure.
Bound.
Bleeding fire.
He raised an eyebrow.
"...Another experiment?"
Eirisa smiled.
"Do you like him?"
Yzer examined the image.
"An Ascendant."
"Yes."
"Elemental."
"Fire."
He tilted his head.
"And you've bound him beneath his own kingdom."
Eirisa laughed.
"Isn't it lovely?"
Yzer studied the containment rings.
The original seal.
The foreign chains.
The delicate balance between sustaining and destroying the prisoner.
"...You've been busy."
"Terribly."
Ecayrous looked toward Yzer.
"She's destabilizing the original containment."
Yzer nodded.
"I can see that."
"If it fails, the surrounding region could collapse."
"Yes."
Eirisa sighed.
"Oh, you two make everything sound so unpleasant."
Ecayrous stared.
"Because it is unpleasant."
"Only for him."
She gestured toward the imprisoned Ascendant.
Yzer leaned forward.
"How long?"
Eirisa smiled.
"Until what?"
"Until the containment fails."
"That depends."
"On?"
"How much more I decide to take."
Yzer considered.
Then—
"Don't kill him yet."
Eirisa's smile vanished.
Only for a moment.
"...Excuse me?"
Yzer looked toward her.
"He's more useful alive."
Silence.
Then—
she laughed.
"Oh, darling."
Her chains stirred.
"Are you giving me orders?"
Yzer smiled.
"No."
A pause.
"Merely offering advice."
Ecayrous looked between them.
"...Remarkable."
Neither acknowledged him.
Eirisa leaned closer.
"And if I choose not to take your advice?"
Yzer's expression remained pleasant.
"Then I suppose we'll discover whether your experiment survives the consequences."
The chains stopped moving.
The clocks stopped ticking.
For several seconds—
the entire chamber seemed to wait.
Then—
Ecayrous placed a hand against the table.
"Enough."
His voice was quiet.
But something within it changed.
The floating equations around him rearranged.
The space between Eirisa and Yzer stretched.
Not visibly.
Not dramatically.
Yet suddenly—
they were farther apart than they had been.
Eirisa blinked.
Yzer glanced toward Ecayrous.
The third Fragment looked thoroughly unimpressed.
"If you're going to threaten one another, do it somewhere that doesn't contain my work."
Silence.
Then—
Eirisa burst into laughter.
Yzer chuckled.
And the clocks resumed.
Eirisa leaned backward.
"Oh, I do enjoy our little gatherings."
Ecayrous sighed.
"I don't."
Yzer smiled.
"Neither do I."
"Liars," Eirisa said.
Neither corrected her.
For a while—
the chamber remained quiet.
Then—
Ecayrous spoke.
"There's another matter."
Yzer looked toward him.
"Oh?"
Eirisa sighed.
"Please tell me it involves something interesting."
"It involves Eon."
The chains surrounding her stopped.
Yzer's smile faded.
Only slightly.
"...Eon?"
Ecayrous raised one hand.
A constellation of broken symbols appeared above the table.
Some glowed crimson.
Others black.
At their center—
a name emerged.
EON.
For several seconds—
none of them spoke.
Then—
Eirisa laughed.
"Oh, darling."
She leaned forward.
"Surely you aren't going to tell me that old nightmare has returned."
Ecayrous examined the symbols.
"That's precisely what I'm telling you."
Silence.
Yzer folded his hands.
"...Explain."
"Reports have begun circulating among the other Fragments."
"Reports?" Eirisa repeated.
"From several universes. Different sources. Similar disturbances."
The symbols rearranged.
"Power signatures associated with the First Evil have resurfaced."
Yzer watched carefully.
"And?"
Ecayrous looked toward him.
"The evidence suggests Eon has been resurrected."
The chamber became silent.
Even the clocks seemed quieter.
Then—
Eirisa smiled.
Slowly.
"...Well."
Her chains began moving again.
"Isn't that delightful?"
Ecayrous stared at her.
"That wasn't the response I expected."
"Oh, don't look so miserable."
She tilted her head.
"An ancient catastrophe returning from the dead? Entire civilizations potentially collapsing beneath its influence?"
Her three dying stars brightened.
"How wonderfully nostalgic."
Yzer remained silent.
He was thinking.
Eon.
The First Evil.
A being whose existence had once shaken the foundations of creation.
A creature whose name still carried consequences long after its disappearance.
And now—
resurrection.
"...Who brought him back?" Yzer asked.
Ecayrous shook his head.
"Unknown."
"Where is he?"
"Also unknown."
"His condition?"
"Unconfirmed."
Eirisa laughed.
"So we know almost nothing."
"We know he's returned."
"Perhaps."
Ecayrous looked toward her.
"The evidence is substantial."
"And yet," Yzer interrupted softly, "we haven't heard from him."
Silence.
Ecayrous considered.
"No."
Yzer leaned backward.
"How interesting."
Eirisa tilted her head.
"You're not frightened, are you?"
Yzer smiled.
"Should I be?"
"Most beings would be."
"Most beings aren't me."
Ecayrous sighed.
"An observation that becomes increasingly unfortunate every time you repeat it."
Eirisa laughed.
Yzer ignored him.
"If Eon has returned, then his resurrection will eventually disturb the balance between the universes."
Ecayrous nodded.
"Possibly."
"And the other Fragments?"
"Some are investigating. Others have already begun preparing for his reappearance."
Eirisa grinned.
"And the rest?"
Ecayrous's expression remained flat.
"Are doing what Fragments usually do."
"Which is?"
"Whatever they please."
She laughed.
"How reassuring."
Yzer studied the floating name.
EON.
For several seconds—
his expression remained unreadable.
Then—
he smiled.
"Let him return."
Ecayrous looked toward him.
"You're assuming his intentions will be obvious."
Yzer chuckled.
"Intentions rarely interest me."
A pause.
"Opportunities do."
Eirisa's chains shifted.
"Oh, darling."
She leaned closer.
"You're already planning something."
Yzer smiled.
"Always."
And none of them—
not Eirisa,
not Ecayrous,
not even Yzer—
understood the most important truth.
Eon had not returned to stand beside them.
He had not returned to restore the terror they remembered.
And while the Fragments speculated about what the First Evil might do—
Eon was already helping the Ascendants bring about their defeat.
Eventually—
Eirisa grew bored of discussing her prisoner.
Which meant the conversation became dangerous.
But before Eirisa could speak—
Ecayrous looked toward Yzer.
"Speaking of Eon..."
The Warden raised an eyebrow.
"Yes?"
"I suppose congratulations are in order."
Eirisa blinked.
"...Congratulations?"
Ecayrous folded his hands.
"Your latest prisoner."
Yzer smiled.
"Oh?"
"Don't pretend you don't know which one."
Eirisa leaned forward.
Her chains curled around her shoulders.
"Wait."
A pause.
"Are we finally discussing Goraxian?"
Yzer chuckled.
"...Ah."
Eirisa laughed.
"There it is!"
She clapped her hands.
"Oh, darling, you really must learn to share your accomplishments."
Ecayrous looked unimpressed.
"Capturing the Commander of the First Division of Eon's army is not a minor accomplishment."
Yzer's smile widened.
"No."
"It isn't," Ecayrous continued.
"Particularly considering Goraxian's reputation."
Eirisa leaned across the table.
"An extraordinary reputation."
Her three dying stars glimmered.
"The commander who served beneath the First Evil himself."
Yzer nodded.
"And now?"
She grinned.
"Now he's sitting inside your fortress."
"Indeed."
Eirisa laughed.
"Oh, I must admit, Warden. I'm impressed."
Ecayrous inclined his head.
"As am I."
Yzer regarded them both.
"...How generous."
"Don't get accustomed to it," Ecayrous replied.
Eirisa waved a hand.
"Oh, let him enjoy himself."
She tilted her head.
"Although..."
Her smile softened.
"...there is something rather strange about your magnificent achievement."
Yzer watched her.
"Is there?"
"Yes."
She leaned closer.
"Why hasn't he escaped?"
Silence.
Ecayrous looked toward Yzer.
"An excellent question."
Yzer's smile remained.
Eirisa continued.
"Goraxian is no ordinary prisoner."
"No," Ecayrous agreed.
"He commands the First Division. A position that would be meaningless if he lacked the power to justify it."
Eirisa rested her chin against her hand.
"And yet..."
Her chains drifted lazily around her.
"...he remains exactly where you put him."
Yzer folded his hands.
"Perhaps he recognizes the futility of attempting escape."
Ecayrous stared.
"...You don't believe that."
Yzer smiled.
"Don't I?"
"No."
Eirisa laughed.
"Oh, darling. Even you can't possibly believe someone like Goraxian has simply surrendered."
Yzer remained silent.
Ecayrous leaned forward.
"Has he attempted to breach his confinement?"
"No."
"Attacked his guards?"
"Not recently."
"Demanded an audience?"
"No."
"Attempted to communicate with the outside?"
"Not to my knowledge."
Ecayrous's expression darkened.
"...Then he's waiting."
Eirisa stopped smiling.
Only briefly.
"Waiting?"
"Yes."
Ecayrous looked toward Yzer.
"A prisoner who cannot escape tests the walls."
A pause.
"A prisoner who can escape but chooses not to..."
His eyes narrowed.
"...has a reason to remain."
Silence.
The clocks continued ticking.
Yzer watched the other two Fragments.
Then—
he smiled.
"Perhaps."
Eirisa leaned forward.
"Oh, this is becoming delicious."
She laughed softly.
"Do you suppose he's waiting for Eon?"
Ecayrous considered.
"Possibly."
"Or an order?"
"Also possible."
"Or perhaps..."
Her smile widened.
"...he's waiting for something inside the fortress."
Yzer's expression did not change.
But one of the clocks stopped.
Ecayrous noticed.
Naturally.
"...You haven't determined his objective."
Yzer chuckled.
"Goraxian is a patient creature."
"That's not an answer."
"No."
"Then you don't know."
Yzer looked toward the ceiling.
For several seconds—
he said nothing.
Then—
"Not yet."
Eirisa laughed.
"Oh, how wonderful."
She leaned backward.
"The great Warden has captured one of Eon's most formidable commanders..."
Her three dying stars glowed.
"...and the prisoner refuses to behave like a prisoner."
Ecayrous looked toward Yzer.
"I would advise caution."
Yzer smiled.
"How thoughtful."
"He's waiting for something."
"Perhaps."
"And whatever it is..."
Ecayrous paused.
"...you should consider the possibility that your fortress is exactly where he wants to be."
Silence.
For the first time—
Yzer's smile became thinner.
Not frightened.
Not angry.
Interested.
Very interested.
"...Then," he murmured, "I suppose we'll have to discover what he's waiting for."
Eirisa grinned.
"Oh, darling."
Her chains curled around the table.
"Now that's a mystery worth keeping alive."
She turned toward Yzer.
"So."
He looked at her.
"Yes?"
"How is your little collection?"
Yzer smiled.
"Which one?"
"Oh, don't be modest."
She leaned forward.
"The prisoners."
Ecayrous continued examining his calculations.
Yzer folded his hands.
"Well enough."
"Anyone interesting?"
"Several."
"Anyone broken?"
"That depends upon your definition."
Eirisa smiled.
"My definition is quite generous."
"Naturally."
She laughed.
Then—
"Have you made any progress with the one you were so interested in?"
Yzer's expression changed.
Not much.
Just enough.
Ecayrous noticed.
He looked up.
"...Marasailyn."
Yzer turned toward him.
"Yes."
"The Ascendant of Destiny."
"Correct."
Eirisa's three dying stars brightened.
"Oh, her."
Yzer smiled.
"Her eyes remain extraordinarily valuable."
Ecayrous's expression darkened.
"That isn't the same as saying you've obtained them."
"No."
"Then you haven't."
Yzer chuckled.
"You're becoming impatient."
"I'm becoming concerned that you're mistaking possession for understanding."
Silence.
Eirisa looked delighted.
Yzer rested his hands upon the table.
"Destiny is not a simple force."
Ecayrous nodded.
"For once, we agree."
"It does not merely describe what will happen."
"No."
"It determines which possibilities remain accessible."
Ecayrous watched him carefully.
Yzer continued.
"Imagine possessing the means to observe every possible future."
Eirisa smiled.
"How exhausting."
"Now imagine choosing which futures are permitted to exist."
Her smile widened.
"Oh."
Yzer looked toward the artificial constellations.
"Imagine a universe where every path toward salvation has been closed."
Silence.
"Where hope remains visible..."
His voice softened.
"...but forever unreachable."
Eirisa leaned forward.
"That's cruel."
Yzer smiled.
"Thank you."
"It wasn't a compliment," Ecayrous said.
"How disappointing."
Ecayrous folded his arms.
"And you believe Marasailyn's eyes will allow you to accomplish this?"
Yzer considered.
"I believe they will help."
"That's not certainty."
"No."
"Then you're gambling with a force you haven't mastered."
Yzer smiled.
"All discovery begins with uncertainty."
Ecayrous stared.
"That is an offensively convenient interpretation of research."
Eirisa laughed.
"Oh, I missed this."
Yzer looked toward her.
"Did you?"
"Terribly."
She rested her chin upon one hand.
"Tell me, Warden."
"Yes?"
"What happens when you finally obtain everything you want?"
Yzer didn't answer immediately.
Instead—
he looked toward the clocks.
Thousands of them.
Every one measuring something different.
Then—
he smiled.
"I suppose..."
A pause.
"...I'll want something else."
Eirisa laughed.
Ecayrous closed his eyes.
"Of course you will."
The meeting should have ended there.
Ecayrous would have preferred it.
He had calculations to finish.
A damaged spatial model to repair.
And several questions about the behavior of a distant universe that were considerably more interesting than listening to Eirisa and Yzer compete over who possessed the most unpleasant imagination.
Unfortunately—
Yzer was smiling.
That was rarely a good sign.
"...There's something else," Ecayrous said.
Yzer looked toward him.
"Is there?"
"Yes."
Eirisa leaned forward.
"Oh?"
Ecayrous gestured toward the far end of the chamber.
"That chair."
An empty chair stood beside the wall.
Black.
Tall.
Unremarkable.
Except—
it hadn't been there before.
Eirisa tilted her head.
"...What chair?"
Ecayrous stared at her.
"The one you're looking at."
"Oh."
She smiled.
"That chair."
Yzer chuckled.
Ecayrous's expression hardened.
"Who is it for?"
For several seconds—
Yzer said nothing.
Then—
he raised one hand.
The clocks stopped.
Every single one.
Silence descended.
Not ordinary silence.
Something deeper.
The kind that existed before sound had been invented.
A doorway appeared behind the chair.
No hinges.
No frame.
Just—
a vertical wound in space.
Darkness waited beyond it.
Eirisa's chains lifted.
Ecayrous straightened.
And from the darkness—
someone emerged.
A cloaked figure.
Tall.
Silent.
Its body was hidden beneath layers of black fabric that seemed to move in different directions.
Its face was concealed.
No visible hands.
No footsteps.
Only—
a faint sound.
Frrrrsh.
Like pages turning.
Eirisa tilted her head.
"...Well."
The figure stopped.
Ecayrous examined it.
No familiar energy signature.
No obvious elemental authority.
No stable relationship between its position and the surrounding space.
Interesting.
Potentially dangerous.
Almost certainly unnecessary.
He looked toward Yzer.
"...What is that?"
Yzer smiled.
"A guest."
"That wasn't my question."
"No."
"It wasn't an answer."
"Also true."
Eirisa laughed.
"Oh, I like this already."
The figure remained motionless.
Yzer gestured toward the empty chair.
"Sit."
For several seconds—
nothing happened.
Then—
the figure moved.
Slowly.
It approached the chair.
Lowered itself.
And sat.
CRRRRKKK.
The chair aged.
Not gradually.
Not naturally.
Centuries passed through the wood.
Then—
millennia.
The surface blackened.
The legs twisted.
The entire chair collapsed into dust.
The figure remained seated.
In empty air.
Eirisa stared.
Ecayrous went still.
Yzer laughed softly.
"Marvelous."
For several seconds—
nobody spoke.
Then—
Ecayrous looked toward Yzer.
"...You've invited something you don't understand."
Yzer smiled.
"Perhaps."
"That's reckless."
"Possibly."
"Potentially catastrophic."
"How exciting."
Ecayrous stared.
Then—
"I despise these meetings."
Eirisa laughed.
The cloaked figure tilted its head.
Frrrrsh.
Pages turned somewhere beneath the hood.
Ecayrous narrowed his eyes.
He could sense something moving.
Not time.
Not space.
Not memory.
Something adjacent to all three.
Possibilities.
But not in the manner of Destiny.
These possibilities were being recorded.
Catalogued.
Compared.
As though existence itself had been reduced to a collection of unfinished manuscripts.
He looked toward the figure.
"...Can you speak?"
Silence.
Frrrrsh.
A page turned.
Eirisa leaned closer.
"Oh, darling."
Her voice became playful.
"Are you shy?"
The figure slowly turned toward her.
For one heartbeat—
the air between them changed.
A violet chain slipped from Eirisa's sleeve.
It extended toward the figure.
Curious.
Testing.
The chain touched the edge of the cloak.
And—
vanished.
Not severed.
Not destroyed.
Simply—
gone.
For one heartbeat—
nothing happened.
Then—
Eirisa frowned.
"...Wait."
She looked toward her wrist.
The chain was gone.
But that wasn't what disturbed her.
She remembered creating it.
She remembered wrapping it around her fingers.
She remembered extending it toward the stranger.
And yet—
when she reached for the memory of what had happened next—
there was nothing.
Not darkness.
Not confusion.
An absence.
As though a moment of her existence had been removed.
Ecayrous noticed immediately.
"...Eirisa?"
She didn't answer.
Her three dying stars rotated.
Slowly.
"...What did it do?"
The cloaked figure remained motionless.
Frrrrsh.
A page turned.
Ecayrous raised one hand.
An equation appeared above his palm.
He attempted to reconstruct the missing moment.
The symbols assembled.
Rearranged.
Then—
one vanished.
Ecayrous froze.
He tried again.
Another symbol disappeared.
Not erased.
Not destroyed.
Simply absent from every calculation that should have contained it.
His expression changed.
"...That's impossible."
Yzer leaned forward.
"Oh?"
Ecayrous stared at the incomplete equation.
"The chain existed."
"Naturally," Yzer replied.
"I observed it."
"Yes."
"And now..."
Ecayrous lowered his hand.
"...the universe is behaving as though the final moment of its existence was never recorded."
Eirisa stared at the stranger.
For the first time—
she did not smile.
The cloaked figure tilted its head.
Frrrrsh.
Another page turned.
And somewhere inside the chamber—
a clock forgot how to count.
Eirisa stared at the clock.
A violet chain began emerging from her sleeve.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Its links twisted around her fingers, preparing to strike.
Then—
she stopped.
The chain retreated.
Not because she was frightened.
Because she had no intention of losing another piece of herself to something she could not understand.
Ecayrous noticed.
"An unusually sensible decision."
Eirisa's three dying stars shifted toward him.
"...Don't start."
The cloaked figure remained motionless.
**Frrrrsh.**
Another page turned.
Yzer smiled.
"Oh, how interesting."
She stared at the empty space where her chain had been.
"...What?"
The figure remained still.
Frrrrsh.
Another page turned.
Yzer smiled.
"Oh, how interesting."
Eirisa slowly looked toward him.
"...You brought that here?"
"Yes."
"Without warning me?"
"Would a warning have helped?"
Her three dying stars narrowed.
For once—
she had no immediate answer.
Ecayrous looked toward the figure.
Then toward Yzer.
"...What do you intend to do with it?"
Yzer folded his hands.
"Observe."
Ecayrous sighed.
"Of course."
"And perhaps..."
The Warden leaned forward.
"...learn."
The cloaked figure raised its head.
Beneath the hood—
something opened.
Not eyes.
Not a mouth.
A narrow vertical seam.
Filled with turning pages.
Each page carried a different symbol.
A different possibility.
A different future that might never come to pass.
Ecayrous watched.
Eirisa watched.
Yzer smiled.
And none of them—
not one—
understood precisely what they had invited into the room.
CLAP.
The theater returned.
The dead screamed.
Several fell from their seats.
One skeleton attempted to run.
Its legs remained behind.
Hela Grimm stood at the center of the Ossuary Stage.
Laughing.
"Oh, my little nightmares."
She wiped an imaginary tear from beneath her raven mask.
"Such delightful company."
The corpses slowly settled.
Above her—
the two spheres returned.
In one—
Qaritas stood beneath the mountain, watching the failing containment surrounding Altest.
In the other—
three Fragments sat around a table with a stranger whose face remained hidden.
Hela looked between the two spheres.
"Now, my little nightmares..."
Her smile widened.
"Isn't that interesting?"
"One side has begun uncovering the truth."
She touched Qaritas's image.
"And the other..."
Her fingers brushed the fortress.
"...still believes itself comfortably ahead."
The dead watched.
"Two thousand Fragments."
Hela whispered the number almost affectionately.
"Two thousand pieces scattered across creation, each pursuing desires that may one day collide."
Her violet eyes brightened.
"And now Eon has returned."
The lanterns flickered.
"An old enemy. An unexpected ally. A name that makes even monsters reconsider their plans."
She smiled.
"Meanwhile, Goraxian waits."
A pause.
"Not because his prison is necessarily stronger than he is."
Her expression sharpened.
"But because sometimes..."
She leaned forward.
"...remaining inside a cage is far more dangerous than escaping it."
Silence.
Then—
the headless corpse raised its skull.
"Will they meet?"
Hela turned.
For several seconds—
she said nothing.
Then—
she laughed.
"Oh, sweetheart."
She approached the edge of the stage.
"Of course."
The audience stirred.
"But that is not the question you should be asking."
The corpse tilted its skull.
Hela crouched.
Her violet eyes burned.
"The question..."
She whispered.
"...is which of them will recognize the danger first."
The theater trembled.
Behind her—
the spheres began moving.
Closer.
Slowly.
The mountain.
The fortress.
The present.
The past.
Not touching.
Not yet.
Hela rose.
"And there is something else."
The corpses became still.
She looked toward the image of the cloaked figure.
For the first time that evening—
her smile faded.
Only slightly.
But enough.
"Some things do not belong comfortably to either side of a story."
The figure's pages continued turning.
Hela watched.
"Some things..."
Her voice became almost thoughtful.
"...are far more interested in the spaces between them."
A corpse whispered.
"What is it?"
Hela turned toward the audience.
Her smile returned.
"Oh, darling."
She raised one finger to her lips.
"Where would the fun be in telling you?"
The lanterns flickered.
The curtains began to close.
But before they could—
a sound echoed through the theater.
Frrrrsh.
Hela stopped.
The audience froze.
A page had turned.
Not within the sphere.
Not within the fortress.
Here.
Inside Oisdara.
Hela slowly looked toward her throne.
A single sheet of black parchment rested upon its seat.
It had not been there before.
She approached.
Her silk whispered against the bone-carved floor.
The parchment was blank.
Then—
violet ink appeared.
One word.
HELLO.
Silence.
Hela stared.
For several seconds—
she did not move.
Then—
she smiled.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
"Oh."
She lifted the parchment between two fingers.
"How terribly rude."
The ink shifted.
A second sentence appeared.
ARE YOU WATCHING?
Hela laughed.
Not loudly.
Not theatrically.
A quiet, genuine laugh.
The kind that suggested she had discovered something she hadn't expected.
She looked toward the audience.
"Well, my little nightmares."
Her violet eyes ignited.
"It appears..."
The parchment trembled.
"...that someone has become curious about our little theater."
The dead recoiled.
Hela tilted her head.
Then—
she leaned toward the parchment.
And whispered—
"Of course I'm watching, darling."
Her smile widened.
"I wrote the invitation."
The lanterns extinguished.
Every single one.
The theater fell into darkness.
And somewhere beyond the curtain—
a page turned.