Xheavend's fingertip remained against the scar in Qaritas's palm.
Then—
slowly—
she pulled away.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Around them, the war camp continued moving.
Metal struck metal somewhere inside the shipyard.
Engines pulsed.
Someone shouted instructions in a language Qaritas didn't recognize.
Farther away, a wounded creature released a low groan from beneath one of the medical shelters.
Life continued.
It had an irritating habit of doing that.
Even after worlds almost ended.
Even after fathers died.
Even after six hundred bodies.
Even after scars.
Xheavend stared at her hand.
Then said—
"He showed me."
Qaritas looked at her.
"What?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Her gaze remained on her fingers.
"Yzer."
Something in Qaritas hardened.
"What did he show you?"
Xheavend's mouth opened.
Closed.
Then—
"He showed me what happens."
Qaritas waited.
No joke.
No interruption.
Xheavend's mismatched eyes became distant.
Not unfocused.
Somewhere else.
Somewhen else.
"The ground doesn't explode immediately."
Qaritas felt cold.
"That's the worst part."
Her voice had changed.
Flat.
Detached.
The voice of someone describing something she had already watched too many times.
"You have time to know."
Qaritas said nothing.
"The oceans move."
A pause.
"Not waves."
Her fingers curled.
"The whole ocean."
She swallowed.
"It pulls wrong."
"Toward places water shouldn't go."
"Coastlines disappear."
"Then come back."
"Then disappear again."
Qaritas's jaw tightened.
"The sky changes."
Xheavend looked upward.
Galathan's enormous pale sky stretched above them.
"The magnetic field starts dying."
"Radiation gets through."
"Navigation fails."
"Animals know before people do."
Her breathing slowed.
"They start running."
Qaritas thought of Galathan.
The Vaelori falling.
Grief Finches fleeing.
Ivory Shepherds walking.
Entire ecosystems understanding danger before civilization caught up.
Xheavend continued.
"Then the crust opens."
Her fingers spread.
Slowly.
Like something splitting apart.
"Not everywhere."
"At first."
A breath.
"One place."
"Then another."
"Then another."
Her hand trembled.
"The mantle comes through."
Qaritas imagined it.
Didn't want to.
Did anyway.
"Cities don't disappear immediately."
Xheavend whispered.
"They watch the horizon turn red."
A pause.
"They know."
Her voice cracked.
"That's what he wanted me to see."
Qaritas's expression tightened.
"What?"
"That they know."
Her eyes met his.
"He wanted me to understand there would be time."
"Time for what?"
"For everyone to realize the planet was already dead before they were."
Silence.
Even the noise of the camp seemed farther away.
Xheavend's fingers curled against her palms.
"He goes inside."
Qaritas stared at her.
"Inside the planet?"
She nodded.
"Through the crust."
A pause.
"The mantle."
Another.
"Into the core."
Qaritas felt something unpleasant settle inside his stomach.
"He can reach a planetary core?"
"I've watched him do it."
There was no hesitation now.
No uncertainty.
That answer was worse.
Xheavend looked toward the distant horizon.
"He doesn't need to explode the world."
"He changes something."
"I don't know what."
"Pressure."
"Heat."
"Movement."
"Something."
She shook her head.
"I'm not Ación."
"I'm not Kelene."
"I don't understand planets."
"But I understand what happens after."
Her voice lowered.
"The world starts breaking itself."
Qaritas stared at her.
"How many?"
Xheavend went silent.
His stomach dropped.
"Xheavend."
"I don't know."
That answer was somehow worse than a number.
"I've seen more than one."
Qaritas looked away.
Across the war camp.
At soldiers.
Engineers.
Children.
Refugees.
People eating.
People arguing.
People fixing ships.
People alive.
Then he imagined all of it beneath a red sky—
waiting.
Xheavend whispered,
"He showed me because of Hstrarkit."
Qaritas looked back.
"He told me exactly what would happen."
Her mouth tightened.
"If I fought the Eyes—"
A pause.
"Hstrarkit dies."
Qaritas felt anger rise.
Not toward her.
Never toward her.
Toward something that wasn't even standing there.
"He made the planet the hostage."
Xheavend nodded.
"And made you responsible for whether he killed it."
Another nod.
"So every time you considered fighting—"
"I saw it."
The oceans.
The sky.
The cracks.
The dying world.
Qaritas understood.
Not completely.
He had already admitted he couldn't.
But enough.
Enough to hate Yzer differently.
Because there were simpler kinds of cruelty.
Hit someone.
Cut them.
Break them.
Kill them.
Yzer preferred architecture.
He built choices where every door led somewhere terrible—
then asked his victim why they chose the wrong one.
Xheavend's voice became smaller.
"I thought if I just didn't make him angry—"
Qaritas's jaw tightened.
"If I didn't fight—"
She swallowed.
"If I didn't give him a reason—"
"He wouldn't destroy it."
"Yes."
A voice came from behind them.
"He would have."
Xheavend froze.
Qaritas turned.
Gawi stood several metres away.
Of course she did.
Qaritas hadn't heard her approach.
He was beginning to suspect she considered footsteps optional.
Her four arms rested loosely at her sides.
The crystallized blood-webbing between her folded wings caught Galathan's light.
Dark crimson.
Almost black.
Her eyeless face pointed toward Xheavend.
Qaritas stared at her.
"You know?"
"Yes."
Xheavend turned fully.
"How?"
"I know Yzer."
"That's not what I asked."
"No."
Gawi approached.
Her enormous body moved through the camp without anyone reacting with surprise.
Soldiers simply moved around her.
A mechanic ducked beneath one wing without looking up.
Someone handed Gawi a metal tablet as she passed.
One of her lower hands accepted it.
Another signed something.
A third returned it.
Her upper arms never moved.
Qaritas watched.
Apparently terrifying cosmic abominations could multitask.
Gawi stopped beside them.
"Yzer has destroyed worlds through their cores before."
Qaritas's stomach tightened.
"So it wasn't a bluff."
"No."
Xheavend's face changed.
Something tiny.
Something Qaritas nearly missed.
Relief.
Not because worlds had died.
Because—
she had been right to be afraid.
Gawi looked at her.
"That was why I intervened when I did."
Xheavend stared.
"What?"
"I knew what he was preparing."
"How?"
"I recognized the movement of his forces."
Gawi's wings shifted.
"He was positioning his Eyes around Hstrarkit."
Qaritas frowned.
"For what?"
"Observation."
A pause.
"Control."
Another.
"And leverage."
Xheavend looked down.
Gawi continued.
"If you had begun destroying them indiscriminately, he would have interpreted it as open rebellion."
"He would've killed everyone."
"He may have attempted to."
Xheavend looked up.
"Attempted?"
Gawi's smile remained fixed.
"I was there."
Qaritas stared at her.
Right.
That was—
an important variable.
Gawi tilted her head.
"But you didn't know I was coming."
Xheavend went still.
"So your decision cannot be judged using my arrival."
Qaritas looked at Gawi.
Then at Xheavend.
Apparently Gawi had reached the same conclusion.
More efficiently.
Annoying.
Gawi continued.
"You had the information available to you."
"Yzer had demonstrated the threat."
"You believed the threat credible."
"It was."
"And you chose the course you believed least likely to result in planetary extinction."
Xheavend swallowed.
"People still died."
"Yes."
"My choice didn't save Yandaro's father."
"No."
Gawi didn't soften it.
Didn't hide from it.
"He died."
Xheavend looked toward the shipyard.
Yandaro stood beneath the unfinished warship.
Small beneath it.
Too small.
Gawi's voice lowered.
"That does not transform your decision into cowardice."
Xheavend's eyes filled.
"I could've done more."
"Perhaps."
She looked at Gawi.
That wasn't the answer she expected.
Gawi continued.
"Or perhaps doing more would have killed ten million people."
Silence.
"You do not know."
One of Gawi's hands lifted.
A claw touched Xheavend's chest.
Not quite.
Stopped before contact.
"That uncertainty is what Yzer gave you."
The hand lowered.
"Do not mistake it for proof that you failed."
Xheavend said nothing.
Gawi turned.
Then—
stopped.
"Oh."
Qaritas frowned.
"Oh?"
Gawi reached behind one wing.
Qaritas immediately became suspicious.
"What are you doing?"
"Solving part of the problem."
"What problem?"
"Yzer."
Qaritas stared.
"That seems ambitious for something you just remembered."
"I didn't just remember."
"Then why did you say oh?"
"Because I remembered where I put it."
That was worse.
Gawi reached deeper between the enormous folded structures of crystallized blood.
Qaritas leaned sideways.
"What exactly do you keep in there?"
"Things."
"What things?"
"Useful things."
"Such as?"
Gawi pulled something free.
Fabric unfolded.
Silver.
Qaritas's eyes narrowed.
"No."
Gawi looked at him.
"Yes."
"That's mine."
"No."
"It looks like mine."
"So do several knives."
Gawi held the folded cloak in two hands.
"You don't own knives."
"That comparison was offensive."
"It was accurate."
Xheavend stared at the cloak.
Qaritas stepped closer.
It wasn't identical to his.
He could see that now.
His silver cloak seemed almost absent when still.
Reality slid around it.
This one was darker.
Silver-gray.
Thin enough that the material appeared translucent along its edges.
Strange markings moved beneath the fabric.
Not symbols.
More like tiny fractures that couldn't decide where they existed.
Qaritas looked at Gawi.
"You made another one."
"Similar."
"How similar?"
"Enough."
"That is not a measurement."
"It is the measurement you're receiving."
Gawi extended the cloak toward Xheavend.
She didn't take it.
"What does it do?"
"Hides you."
Xheavend's face changed.
Hope.
Immediate.
Dangerous.
Gawi killed it before it could grow.
"Not from Yzer."
The hope disappeared.
Qaritas glared at Gawi.
"You could have phrased that better."
"I could have phrased it slower."
"That isn't the same thing."
"No."
Xheavend stared at the cloak.
"Then what's the point?"
"It conceals you from external observation."
Gawi shook the fabric once.
It barely moved.
"The Eyes will have difficulty seeing you."
"His creatures."
"Most."
"Relics?"
"Most."
"Buildings?"
"Depending upon how thoroughly they're bound to him."
Xheavend frowned.
"But he'll still know where I am."
"Yes."
Her shoulders fell.
"Then it doesn't matter."
Gawi's head tilted.
"I didn't say I was finished."
One of her lower hands disappeared beneath the hardened blood-crystal plating along her ribs.
Qaritas immediately stepped backward.
"No."
Gawi stopped.
"No?"
"Whatever you are retrieving from inside yourself, I would like warning."
"You have warning."
"That sentence was the warning?"
"Yes."
"Insufficient."
Gawi pulled out a small black container.
Qaritas stared.
"...You have pockets?"
"No."
"I watched you remove that from your body."
"Correct."
"That raises more questions."
"I recommend suppressing them."
"That has never worked."
"I've noticed."
Gawi held the container toward Xheavend.
"This will interfere with the rest."
Xheavend looked at it.
"What is it?"
Gawi opened the lid.
Something dark gleamed inside.
Crimson-black.
Thick.
Almost reflective.
Not liquid.
Not entirely solid.
A dense cream-like substance filled the container.
Tiny crystal particles moved within it.
Not floating.
Crawling.
Rearranging.
Catching light.
Qaritas leaned closer.
Immediately regretted it.
The substance pulsed.
Once.
He leaned back.
"What is that?"
"Part of me."
Silence.
Qaritas stared at Gawi.
Then the container.
Then Gawi.
"Which part?"
"An unnecessary question."
"I strongly disagree."
Xheavend leaned slightly closer.
Unlike Qaritas, she appeared more curious than horrified.
"What does it do?"
Gawi held the container steady.
"The crystalline structures in my wings are formed from altered blood."
One wing opened slightly behind her.
Sunlight passed through the spiderwebbed crimson membrane.
Beautiful.
Horrifying.
Sharp enough to cut reality.
"Beneath them is regenerative tissue."
Qaritas's face changed.
"Oh."
Gawi continued.
"When the crystal sheds, the tissue beneath replaces it."
Qaritas looked at the container.
"Oh."
Xheavend looked between them.
"What?"
Qaritas pointed.
"That's wing."
"Partially," Gawi said.
"That did not improve it."
"No."
"What else is in it?"
"Marrow."
Qaritas stopped.
Xheavend stopped.
Gawi's smile remained.
Qaritas slowly pointed toward the container.
"From you."
"Yes."
"Blood."
"Yes."
"Crystal."
"Yes."
"And marrow."
"Yes."
Qaritas looked at Xheavend.
"I regret asking."
Gawi extended it farther.
"I call it Bloodglass Marrow."
Qaritas stared.
"You named it?"
"I needed to label the containers."
"There are multiple containers?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Gawi turned her eyeless face toward him.
"I am fighting a war."
Fair.
Disturbing.
But fair.
Xheavend looked at the Bloodglass Marrow.
"How does it stop Yzer?"
"It doesn't."
Her eyes lifted.
Gawi's voice became precise.
"It will not remove his blood from your body."
One finger rose.
"It will not sever the connection between you."
Another.
"It will not stop his voice."
Xheavend's expression tightened.
Another.
"It will not prevent him from knowing you're alive."
Another.
"And it will not make you entirely impossible for him to sense."
Xheavend stared.
"You're making this sound increasingly useless."
"Because you need to understand what it cannot do before I tell you what it can."
That—
Qaritas appreciated.
Gawi continued.
"Yzer's blood inside you functions like a road."
Xheavend nodded.
"Goro poisoned the road."
Her eyes dropped toward the altered veins beneath her skin.
Years of Black Elixir.
Pain.
Vomiting.
Shaking.
Numbness.
Choosing poison because poison belonged to her more than Yzer did.
Gawi gestured toward the container.
"This doesn't destroy the road."
"What does it do?"
"It removes the signs."
Qaritas frowned.
Gawi elaborated.
"Imagine Yzer standing at one end."
One claw pointed toward Xheavend.
"You are at the other."
"Normally, the connection tells him where the road ends."
Gawi tapped the container.
"This introduces false endings."
Xheavend's brow furrowed.
"How many?"
"Thousands."
Qaritas stared.
Gawi continued.
"Possibly millions, depending upon how well your body accepts it."
"So he'll think there are millions of me?"
"No."
Gawi paused.
"He'll know there is one."
A beat.
"He simply won't know which ending contains you."
Xheavend stared at the Bloodglass Marrow.
Qaritas slowly understood.
"Without it..."
Gawi turned toward him.
"He can narrow her position."
"How narrowly?"
"Depending upon circumstances?"
"Yes."
"Room."
Xheavend's face tightened.
"Building."
Gawi continued.
"Sometimes body."
Qaritas looked at Xheavend.
That was—
horrific.
Gawi tapped the container.
"With this?"
Qaritas asked.
"Region."
Xheavend looked up.
"Only region?"
"Potentially world."
Silence.
Her mismatched eyes widened.
"He'll still know I'm here."
"Possibly."
"Then what's the point?"
Gawi's head tilted.
"A world is considerably larger than a room."
Qaritas nodded.
"Annoyingly practical."
"I cultivate the habit."
Gawi held up the cloak.
"This hides what he can observe externally."
Then the container.
"This disrupts what he can locate internally."
Xheavend stared at both.
"So he can still talk to me."
"Yes."
Her jaw tightened.
"Still get into my head?"
"Through the existing connection, sometimes."
"Still know I'm alive."
"Yes."
"But not exactly where I am."
"Correct."
Silence.
Not freedom.
Qaritas saw Xheavend understand that.
This wasn't freedom.
It wasn't the removal of Yzer.
It wasn't the end of the road.
But—
it was a door.
A small one.
Perhaps only cracked open.
But Yzer had spent years making sure every door belonged to him.
This one didn't.
Xheavend slowly reached for the cloak.
Gawi let her take it.
Then the container.
Xheavend held the Bloodglass Marrow carefully.
Her fingers tightened around it.
"How do I use it?"
"Across the skin."
"Where?"
"Chest."
A pause.
"Throat."
Another.
"Wrists."
Gawi's head tilted.
"And wherever his blood has accumulated most heavily."
Xheavend's hand moved unconsciously toward her sternum.
Gawi noticed.
"You don't need to apply it now."
Xheavend looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because Kysena should examine how your altered blood reacts to mine before you cover half your body in an unknown regenerative substance."
Qaritas nodded.
"Finally. A sentence I completely support."
Gawi turned toward him.
"You'll test it too."
Qaritas stopped.
"What?"
"Your cloak."
"No."
"Yes."
"I've reconsidered my support."
Xheavend's mouth twitched.
There.
Small.
But there.
Qaritas noticed.
He didn't mention it.
Xheavend looked down at the things in her hands.
Silver-gray cloak.
Black container.
Protection.
Made specifically because someone had considered the possibility that she might need somewhere Yzer couldn't immediately find her.
Her throat tightened.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Gawi turned.
Xheavend didn't move.
"Gawi."
She stopped.
Xheavend swallowed.
"And..."
Qaritas watched her struggle with the next words.
"I'm sorry."
Gawi turned back.
"For what?"
"The ship."
Silence.
"What I said."
Gawi waited.
Xheavend looked down.
"I blamed you."
"Yes."
"I shouldn't have."
"Why?"
Xheavend blinked.
"What?"
"Why shouldn't you have?"
Xheavend stared at her.
"Because you saved us."
"Eventually."
"You were helping other worlds."
"Yes."
"I didn't know."
"No."
"I was angry."
"Yes."
Xheavend frowned.
"Are you going to say anything else?"
"When necessary."
Qaritas folded his arms.
"She does this."
Gawi ignored him.
Xheavend looked frustrated.
"My anger was unfair."
"Parts of it."
That stopped her.
Gawi stepped closer.
"A father died."
Xheavend's eyes moved toward Yandaro.
"Others died."
A pause.
"You watched people suffer while someone powerful enough to intervene was absent."
Gawi's four hands became still.
"Anger is not an irrational response."
"But you couldn't save everyone."
"No."
"I know that now."
"You knew it then."
Xheavend looked at her.
Gawi continued.
"You simply hated it."
Silence.
That—
was true.
Xheavend looked away.
"I still hate it."
"Good."
Qaritas glanced at Gawi.
Xheavend did too.
"Good?"
"Yes."
Gawi's wings shifted.
"Acceptance is useful."
A pause.
"Indifference isn't."
Xheavend stared at her.
Gawi's voice lowered.
"Eon taught me something."
Qaritas immediately looked over.
"That sentence remains deeply concerning."
Gawi ignored him.
Naturally.
"There is a difference between being unable to stop suffering and deciding suffering is acceptable because stopping it would inconvenience you."
Xheavend listened.
"I cannot save everyone."
Gawi's four hands remained still.
"I learned that long ago."
The camp moved behind her.
Wounded being carried toward healers.
Soldiers drilling.
Engineers rebuilding engines.
Refugees eating beneath temporary shelters.
People from worlds Qaritas couldn't name teaching one another how to survive the same enemy.
"But when I can act—"
Gawi's wings shifted.
Crimson crystal caught the lowering sun.
"—I act."
Xheavend's expression changed.
"Eon taught you that?"
"Yes."
"The First Evil."
"Yes."
Qaritas looked between them.
"I continue to find his educational philosophy unexpectedly complicated."
Gawi's smile remained permanent.
"He contained multitudes."
Qaritas stared.
"That was nearly a joke."
"It wasn't."
"Disappointing."
Xheavend looked at Gawi.
"But you were his commander."
"Sixth."
"You killed people."
"Many."
"You destroyed things."
"Many."
"Did you..."
She hesitated.
"Did you do evil things?"
Gawi didn't move.
"Yes."
No defense.
No qualification.
No attempt to redefine the word.
Just—
yes.
Xheavend stared.
Gawi continued.
"I have done evil things."
The wind moved through the camp.
Ash crossed the ground.
"And if doing what must be done makes me evil again, I will survive the title."
Xheavend's eyes narrowed.
"That sounds like an excuse."
"It can become one."
Gawi answered immediately.
"Which is why I don't permit myself to use necessity as proof of righteousness."
Qaritas's attention sharpened.
Gawi looked toward the camp.
"Necessary things can still be terrible."
Her eyeless face turned toward Xheavend.
"Useful things can still be cruel."
Another pause.
"Winning does not retroactively make every choice good."
Xheavend stared at her.
Qaritas did too.
That sounded—
old.
Not philosophical.
Learned.
Paid for.
Gawi continued.
"What I will not do is watch cruelty become normal because intervention is difficult."
Her lower hands flexed.
"There are things I cannot stop."
A pause.
"There are places I cannot reach."
Another.
"People I cannot save."
Her voice remained steady.
"But I will not confuse helplessness with indifference."
Xheavend's eyes lowered.
"And when you can act?"
Gawi's wings opened slightly.
"I act."
Silence.
Then Xheavend nodded.
Small.
Not agreement with everything Gawi had ever done.
Not forgiveness.
Understanding.
Perhaps that was enough.
Gawi turned toward the shipyard.
Qaritas followed her gaze.
Yandaro was still there.
Of course he was.
The sun had begun descending toward Galathan's horizon.
And the world—
changed.
The pale blue sky warmed.
Gold spread first.
Then copper.
Then rose.
The Vaerash beyond the camp caught the light.
Millions of pale stalks became luminous.
Wind passed through them.
The plains began to sing.
Low.
Harmonic.
Almost like breath moving through some enormous instrument.
Qaritas turned toward the sound.
Far beyond the camp—
an Ashborn Pilgrim crossed the horizon.
Colossal.
Pale.
Its body crumbling gently as it walked.
Pieces of ash peeled away.
Drifted.
Returned.
Silver growth covered its shoulders.
Each step left tiny blooms behind.
From this distance, they looked like a trail of stars across the plain.
Closer to camp—
herds were returning to safer grazing areas.
Tavari moved like spilled color beneath the copper sky.
Turquoise.
Violet.
Crimson.
Gold.
Oshalai clustered tightly together as handlers guided them from the evacuation roads.
Their translucent pink horns caught the sunset.
Above—
the Vaelori had begun climbing again.
Slowly.
Cautiously.
Six enormous wings opening against rose and violet sky.
The Cathedral Beast remained visible.
Far away now.
A vertical black shape against the horizon.
Towers.
Ribs.
Hanging nerves.
Still moving.
Still enormous.
But leaving.
Qaritas remained grateful.
Behind him—
Gawi's war camp transformed.
Lights activated across black-metal platforms.
Not one color.
Dozens.
Technologies from different worlds awakening together.
Living vessels opened bioluminescent veins along their hulls.
Mechanical ships ignited engines.
Bone vessels flexed skeletal structures.
Captured Yzer craft sat beneath containment fields while engineers crawled through their opened bodies.
Dimensional maps appeared above enormous tables.
Whole sectors of the Third Universe unfolded in light.
Worlds.
Routes.
Occupied territories.
Lost regions.
Prison sites.
Possible Eyes.
Known Eyes.
Dead Eyes.
Yzer's influence mapped not as an empire—
but an infection.
Soldiers left training fields.
Night patrols replaced them.
Weapons were counted.
Medical supplies redistributed.
Food moved toward refugee shelters.
Kysena disappeared into the largest medical structure and almost immediately acquired a line of patients.
Ylaris stood beside a failing energy tower with six engineers arguing around him.
Qaritas watched him place one hand against the mechanism.
The entire tower lit.
Every engineer stopped.
Ylaris said something.
One engineer gestured angrily.
Ylaris gestured back.
Qaritas smiled.
Apparently being the Ascendant of the Sun did not exempt one from being yelled at by mechanics.
And Yandaro—
was still in the shipyard.
Qaritas stared.
The boy had climbed halfway inside the unfinished warship.
Only his legs were visible.
One engineer stood beneath him holding a tool.
Another held a light.
A third appeared to be arguing with the child currently inside their engine.
Qaritas listened.
"No."
Yandaro's voice came from inside.
The engineer sighed.
"It will work."
"No, it won't."
"We've tested it."
"And it broke."
"Once."
"Three times."
Silence.
"Who told you that?"
"I read the maintenance board."
Qaritas looked at Gawi.
"He's been here less than a day."
"Yes."
"He has already begun insulting military engineers."
"Yes."
"Should we stop him?"
"No."
A metallic clang came from inside the ship.
Then Yandaro shouted—
"Who built this intake?!"
The engineer beneath him slowly raised one hand.
Yandaro's legs stopped moving.
"Oh."
A pause.
"Sorry."
Another.
"It's still bad."
Qaritas covered his mouth.
Gawi's head turned toward him.
"Don't."
"I'm not doing anything."
"You are."
"I am experiencing emotion privately."
"Experience it quieter."
Qaritas looked back toward Yandaro.
The boy disappeared farther into the engine.
For several minutes—
Qaritas forgot the blood still staining his clothes.
Then Yandaro crawled backward.
Dropped onto the platform.
And immediately looked toward his left.
Like he expected someone to be standing there.
Nobody was.
His expression changed.
Just for a second.
The excitement disappeared.
His mouth tightened.
His eyes filled.
Qaritas understood.
He had found something interesting.
And instinct had told him—
show Dad.
The person wasn't there.
Yandaro looked down quickly.
One of the engineers noticed.
Said nothing.
They simply held out the tool again.
Yandaro stared at it.
Then took it.
He wiped his face with his sleeve.
Turned back toward the unfinished ship.
And climbed inside.
Qaritas looked away.
Building didn't erase grief.
Apparently—
it simply gave grief somewhere to put its hands.
Yandaro remained inside the unfinished warship for another twenty-three minutes.
Qaritas counted.
Not deliberately.
He simply reached seventeen minutes and became curious about whether the child intended to emerge before adulthood.
At twenty-one—
one engineer crawled out.
At twenty-two—
another.
At twenty-three—
Yandaro finally appeared.
His hair was worse.
There was something dark smeared across one cheek.
He had acquired three tools Qaritas was reasonably certain did not belong to him.
And for several seconds—
the thirteen-year-old looked almost offended by the existence of engineering limitations.
Then he saw Qaritas.
His expression flattened.
"What?"
Qaritas leaned against one of the support columns.
"Nothing."
"You've been watching me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I wanted to determine whether you had moved into the engine."
Yandaro looked back at the open access panel.
"I might."
"Does it have a bedroom?"
"No."
"Then I recommend negotiating better accommodations."
Yandaro rolled his eyes.
Good.
Qaritas had learned to appreciate eye rolling.
It meant the child still possessed enough energy to find him irritating.
Yandaro climbed down from the platform.
One of the engineers called after him.
"Tomorrow!"
Yandaro turned.
"What?"
"We'll test your intake modification tomorrow."
He stopped.
His face changed.
"You'll actually try it?"
The engineer shrugged.
"If it explodes, we'll blame you."
Yandaro stared.
Then—
"Okay."
The engineer pointed at him.
"That wasn't permission to make it explode."
"I know."
"Do you?"
Yandaro walked away.
"Probably."
Qaritas watched the engineer's face.
Then looked at Yandaro.
"You're going to fit in terribly well."
No response.
Yandaro moved toward one of the work areas beside the shipyard.
The camp had darkened considerably.
Galathan's sunset had almost finished burning itself across the horizon.
Copper faded into rose.
Rose into violet.
Above them—
the earliest stars appeared.
Yandaro sat at an empty worktable.
Qaritas almost followed.
Then stopped.
Perhaps the boy wanted to be alone.
Yandaro picked up a thin black tablet.
Qaritas reconsidered.
Curiosity remained one of his more persistent defects.
He approached.
Yandaro immediately angled the tablet away.
Qaritas stopped beside him.
"What is that?"
"Nothing."
Qaritas looked at the visible corner.
There were lines.
Numbers.
A badly proportioned engine.
"It has engines."
"So?"
"Nothing rarely requires propulsion."
Yandaro shifted the tablet farther away.
Qaritas sat across from him.
"I won't take it."
"I know."
"I won't laugh."
Yandaro looked at him.
Qaritas considered.
"I will attempt not to laugh."
"Go away."
"That was the more honest promise."
Yandaro stared at the tablet.
His fingers tightened around its edge.
Then—
slowly—
he turned it.
Qaritas looked down.
And stopped joking.
It was a ship.
Or—
the beginning of one.
The drawing was rough.
Very rough.
Several lines had been erased and redrawn so many times they had become dark smears.
The vessel possessed a broad central hull.
Two smaller structures ran alongside it.
Four engines.
No—
six.
Yandaro had crossed out two.
Then added them again farther back.
There were notes everywhere.
CIVILIANS HERE
An arrow pointed toward the center.
Another compartment:
MEDICAL
Below that:
FOOD / WATER
Another:
SMALL SHIPS
Escape vessels.
The outer hull had been drawn absurdly thick.
Qaritas pointed.
"That seems heavy."
"I know."
"Then why—"
"Because Yzer's ships punch through normal armor."
Qaritas stopped.
Yandaro continued.
"So normal armor is stupid."
"An aggressive engineering philosophy."
"It is."
There were weapons too.
Not many.
Enough.
Defensive batteries covered the outer sections.
Several larger weapons pointed forward.
Qaritas traced one line without touching the tablet.
"And those?"
"So it can fight."
"I thought you wanted evacuation ships."
"I do."
Yandaro looked at him.
"But what happens when something follows them?"
Qaritas had no answer.
Yandaro looked back down.
"So it has to get people out."
His finger touched the center of the ship.
"Protect them."
Then the engines.
"Get away."
Then—
the weapons.
"And go back."
Qaritas studied him.
"For the people who didn't get out?"
Yandaro's jaw tightened.
"Yes."
There it was.
Not revenge.
Not entirely.
Something more dangerous.
Purpose.
Qaritas looked down again.
Several aspects were impossible.
He knew enough about ships to recognize that.
One engine appeared to occupy the same physical space as a water reservoir.
The weapon placement would probably remove part of the hull when fired.
The vessel's center of mass seemed to have been decided through optimism.
But—
other parts were clever.
Very clever.
The civilian compartments were buried deep inside the vessel.
Medical near the evacuation bays.
Engines separated so losing one wouldn't cripple the others.
Multiple exits.
Redundant systems.
Yandaro wasn't drawing a weapon with people inside.
He was drawing a shelter that could shoot back.
Qaritas looked at the top of the tablet.
There was writing there.
Not technical.
A name.
Qaritas couldn't read it from the angle.
He didn't ask.
Yandaro noticed him looking.
His hand covered it.
Qaritas looked away immediately.
The boy's shoulders relaxed.
Whatever that name was—
it belonged to him.
Perhaps his father.
Perhaps something his father had taught him.
Perhaps neither.
Qaritas didn't need everything.
Not tonight.
"How many people?"
Yandaro frowned.
"What?"
"How many is it supposed to carry?"
"I don't know."
"Approximately."
Yandaro thought.
"A thousand."
Qaritas looked at the size.
"That won't carry a thousand."
"I know."
"So?"
"I'll make it bigger."
Qaritas nodded solemnly.
"Excellent. Engineering."
Yandaro's mouth twitched.
He began drawing again.
Qaritas remained.
After several seconds—
Yandaro looked at him.
"You don't have to sit there."
"I know."
Another line appeared on the tablet.
"You can go."
"I know."
Yandaro stopped drawing.
His eyes remained down.
Then—
quietly—
"Okay."
Qaritas stayed.
Not forever.
Not even particularly long.
Just until Gawi came looking for them.
Night had settled over Galathan by then.
And Galathan at night—
was enormous.
The open sky became black-blue.
Stars stretched from horizon to horizon without towers or forests tall enough to hide them.
The silver vegetation caught moonlight.
Ishara forests in the distance looked almost white.
The Vaerash still sang.
Lower now.
The evening wind had changed direction.
Its harmonic tones had deepened until the plains sounded like something humming in its sleep.
Qaritas disliked that comparison.
Especially considering what was actually sleeping beneath them.
The Teeth Beneath had stopped moving.
For now.
Three enormous ivory structures remained exposed on the distant horizon.
Moonlight reflected across them.
Teeth.
Mountains.
Both.
The Ivory Shepherds had stopped walking.
So had the evacuations.
People were returning carefully to settlements deemed safe.
Galathan had survived another toothache.
And Gawi's camp—
had become something else entirely.
Not quieter.
Focused.
Daylight had made it look enormous.
Night made it look endless.
Lights stretched across the Vaerash.
Ships rested in rows.
Medical structures glowed.
Cooking stations smoked.
Weapons were being repaired.
Refugees slept beneath temporary shelters while soldiers walked patrols nearby.
Dozens of species.
Dozens of languages.
Dozens of worlds.
No single banner above them.
No statue.
No throne.
No enormous image of Gawi.
Only people preparing to fight someone who believed everything eventually belonged to him.
Gawi gathered them beneath an open command structure near the center of camp.
Qaritas arrived with Yandaro.
Xheavend was already there.
She wore the new cloak.
Not fully activated.
It hung silver-gray around her shoulders.
The container of Bloodglass Marrow had been given to Kysena for examination before anyone allowed Xheavend to smear ancient commander tissue across herself.
A decision Qaritas continued to support enthusiastically.
Kysena stood nearby.
Ylaris leaned against one of the support pillars.
Several commanders Qaritas didn't recognize occupied the edges of the platform.
One had six arms.
Another appeared partially mechanical.
One possessed no visible head.
Another was either wearing a suit of armor or was the armor.
Qaritas had stopped making assumptions.
Gawi stood at the center.
Her four hands moved over a black table.
"Come."
Qaritas looked around.
"We're all here."
"I wasn't speaking to you."
Yandaro walked past him.
Qaritas looked offended.
"That was unnecessarily specific."
Gawi ignored him.
Yandaro approached the table.
Xheavend joined him.
Then—
Gawi touched its surface.
The universe appeared.
Yandaro stepped backward.
Qaritas stopped breathing.
Not literally the universe.
A map.
But large enough that his brain briefly objected.
Thousands of points of light expanded above them.
Stars.
Worlds.
Dimensional routes.
Broken passages.
Labyrinth intersections.
Territories.
The projection climbed several metres overhead.
Then spread outward.
A section illuminated.
"The Third Universe," Gawi said.
Qaritas stared.
He'd known it was large.
Of course it was large.
That was what universes generally did.
But knowing something—
and seeing it—
were different.
Lights filled the projection.
Thousands.
Some white.
Some gold.
Some red.
Some blue.
Some black.
Qaritas frowned.
"What do the colors mean?"
One of Gawi's hands moved.
"White."
Several systems brightened.
"Independent."
Another.
"Gold."
More.
"Liberated."
Another.
"Blue."
Scattered lights appeared.
"Contested."
Then—
red.
Too much red.
"Occupied."
Qaritas's stomach tightened.
Yandaro stared upward.
"By Yzer?"
"By Yzer."
Xheavend went still.
Gawi moved another hand.
Several areas became gray.
"Unknown."
Qaritas frowned.
"Unknown how?"
"No reliable information."
"Because?"
"Sometimes communications fail."
One hand moved.
"Sometimes populations disappear."
Another.
"Sometimes Yzer makes a region inaccessible."
Another.
"Sometimes everyone we send there stops returning."
Qaritas stared at the gray sectors.
"Comforting."
"It wasn't intended to be."
Then Gawi touched the table again.
New lights appeared.
Violet.
Not many compared with the worlds.
But—
far too many.
Qaritas frowned.
"What are those?"
Gawi didn't answer immediately.
Xheavend did.
"Ascendants."
Qaritas looked at her.
She was staring upward.
Her face had changed.
She knew.
Perhaps because she could feel something.
Perhaps because Sra had already told them enough.
Gawi nodded.
"Known or suspected Ascendant imprisonment sites."
Silence.
Qaritas counted automatically.
Stopped.
Started again.
Stopped again.
"How many?"
Gawi remained still.
"That you know about," Qaritas added.
Her permanent smile faced the map.
"Too many."
Xheavend stepped closer.
"Sra said some were sealed."
"Yes."
"Some tortured."
"Yes."
"Some hiding."
"Yes."
Gawi enlarged one violet light.
A structure appeared around it.
Layers.
Symbols.
Something resembling a cage folded through several dimensions at once.
"This one has been imprisoned for approximately four thousand years."
Yandaro stared.
"Why don't you break it?"
"Because the prison is attached to their nervous system."
His face changed.
Gawi pointed.
"Break the outer structure incorrectly—"
The projection showed the containment collapsing inward.
"—and the Ascendant dies."
Another violet light.
"This one is buried beneath a civilization that doesn't know they're standing above them."
Another.
"That prison moves."
Another.
"We know someone is inside."
Qaritas frowned.
"Who?"
"We don't know."
Another.
"That one is bait."
"How do you know?"
"I've already lost two extraction teams there."
Silence.
Gawi collapsed the individual projections.
The violet lights remained.
"Yzer doesn't merely imprison powerful beings."
Her voice was calm.
"He turns the act of rescuing them into another weapon."
Qaritas looked around the camp differently.
Medical teams.
Engineers.
Soldiers.
Ships.
Maps.
People training.
He'd thought—
army.
That wasn't wrong.
It simply wasn't enough.
"This isn't just a war camp."
Gawi's head turned toward him.
"No."
"It's a rescue operation."
"Among other things."
Qaritas looked toward the shipyards.
"Those ships..."
Yandaro spoke before he could.
"They're for this."
Gawi looked at him.
"What about them?"
Yandaro pointed toward the map.
"The ships."
His eyes moved between the violet lights.
"They're for getting them out."
"Some."
"And the civilians."
"Yes."
"And soldiers."
"Yes."
"Medicine."
"Yes."
"Food."
"Yes."
"Moving people between worlds."
"Yes."
"Breaking blockades."
"Yes."
Yandaro stared at the map.
Something changed in his face.
Understanding.
Warships weren't merely weapons.
They were roads.
Hospitals.
Shelters.
Supply lines.
Evacuation corridors.
Ways into places Yzer had closed.
Ways out of places he believed nobody could leave.
Yandaro looked down at the tablet still tucked beneath his arm.
His drawing.
Qaritas saw the exact moment the rough little ship became something larger inside the boy's head.
"Could mine do that?"
Gawi looked at him.
"Eventually."
"Could it extract someone?"
"If you design it correctly."
"Could it survive Yzer's ships?"
"If you design it correctly."
"Could it cross between worlds?"
"If you design it correctly."
Yandaro frowned.
"You're going to keep saying that."
"Yes."
"That's annoying."
"Engineering often is."
Qaritas nodded.
"I've discovered my favorite educational method."
Yandaro ignored him.
He looked up at the violet lights.
"Then teach me."
Gawi became still.
Not dramatic.
Not ceremonial.
She simply looked at him.
"Why?"
Yandaro frowned.
"I already told you."
"Tell me again."
His fingers tightened around the tablet.
"My dad died."
Nobody moved.
"I couldn't get him out."
His voice shook.
"But maybe..."
He looked at the map.
At hundreds of occupied worlds.
At prisons.
At people he had never met.
"...I can build something that gets someone else out."
Gawi's wings shifted.
"Good."
Yandaro looked at her.
"Good?"
"Yes."
"That's it?"
"What else would you like?"
"I don't know."
"A ceremony?"
"No."
"A medal?"
"No."
"A speech?"
"No."
"Then good."
Qaritas covered his mouth.
Yandaro glared at Gawi.
Gawi continued.
"You may train with the engineers."
His expression changed instantly.
"But."
There it was.
"You remain a student."
Yandaro's face fell.
"You do not command construction."
"I know."
"You do not modify active vessels without authorization."
Yandaro looked away.
"Yandaro."
"Fine."
"You do not test experimental propulsion while standing inside it."
He frowned.
"I wasn't going to."
Three engineers standing at the edge of the platform looked at one another.
Gawi's head turned toward them.
One coughed.
Yandaro scowled.
"Fine."
"And you sleep."
"I sleep."
"Regularly."
Silence.
"Yandaro."
"Fine."
Gawi nodded.
"Then learn."
That was all.
No—
You will become great.
No—
Your father would be proud.
No prophecy.
No promise.
Just—
learn.
Yandaro looked back at the map.
And Qaritas realized that might have been exactly what he needed.
A future that wasn't guaranteed.
Only possible.
Something unfinished.
Something he could build.
Gawi moved her hand across the projection.
The occupied worlds dimmed.
The imprisoned Ascendants remained.
Then most of those disappeared too.
One point stayed.
Far from the others.
Pale violet.
Surrounded by a faint silver halo.
Gawi enlarged it.
A world appeared.
Dark.
Only a projection.
Not enough detail for Qaritas to understand much.
He saw fragmented land.
Something luminous crossing the atmosphere.
A strange pale ring around part of the world.
Then—
letters appeared.
LAMENTIS
Gawi looked at them.
"We leave for Lamentis next."
Xheavend's attention sharpened.
"Why?"
"Extraction."
Qaritas glanced toward the violet light.
"Another Ascendant."
"Yes."
Xheavend stepped closer.
"Who?"
Gawi's eyeless face turned toward her.
"Your aunt."
Everything about Xheavend changed.
Not visibly to anyone who didn't know her.
Qaritas knew her.
Her shoulders stiffened.
Her breathing stopped.
Even the cloak seemed to settle around her.
"Which aunt?"
Gawi touched the map.
A figure appeared.
Not completely.
A silhouette.
Tall.
Feminine.
Something bright where the eyes should have been.
"Marasailyn."
Xheavend stared.
"Destiny."
"Yes."
Qaritas looked between them.
"You know her?"
Xheavend nodded slowly.
"She's my mother's..."
She stopped.
Family among Ascendants had never been simple.
Gawi spared everyone the genealogy.
"She is Xheavend's aunt."
"Thank you."
"I anticipated the next several minutes becoming unnecessarily complicated."
"It would have."
Xheavend barely heard them.
Her eyes remained on Marasailyn's silhouette.
"She's alive?"
"We believe so."
"We believe?"
"Her prison isn't confirmed."
Xheavend looked at Gawi.
"You said extraction."
"Because if she's where I believe she is, she won't be able to leave without assistance."
Qaritas frowned.
"Yzer?"
"Possibly."
"Possibly?"
"Yzer isn't the only dangerous thing in the Third Universe."
Qaritas sighed.
"Occasionally I forget."
"You shouldn't."
"I know."
Xheavend moved closer to the projection.
"Marasailyn can see ahead."
"Yes."
"Like Grandmother."
Gawi tilted her head.
"Related."
A pause.
"Not identical."
Qaritas looked between them.
"Explain."
Gawi touched the map.
Dozens of thin lines emerged from Lamentis.
They branched.
Split.
Crossed.
Some vanished.
Others continued.
Hundreds became thousands.
"Xriana is Fate."
The branches multiplied.
"She perceives possibility."
Gawi's claw moved through them.
"Choices."
"Consequences."
"Roads existence may take."
One branch became ten.
Ten became hundreds.
"She sees the architecture of what may happen."
Then Gawi touched Lamentis again.
The branching lines shifted.
Most remained scattered.
But several—
began curving toward the same distant point.
Gawi touched that convergence.
"Marasailyn is Destiny."
The lines met.
Not perfectly.
Not inevitably.
But they leaned.
Pulled.
Converged.
"She sees where the roads are trying to end."
Qaritas stared at the map.
"Trying?"
"Destiny is not inevitability."
Gawi looked toward him.
"It is pressure."
Another branch shifted.
"Direction."
Another.
"Convergence."
Xheavend's eyes remained on the point where the paths met.
"So she can see what events are moving toward."
"Yes."
"Even if the route changes."
"Yes."
"Even if Fate branches."
"Yes."
Xheavend swallowed.
"That's why Yzer wants her."
Gawi didn't answer.
Qaritas noticed.
He filed that silence away.
There was more.
Of course there was more.
There was always more.
Xheavend looked around the projection.
"Where's Qirak?"
Another silence.
This one different.
Gawi touched the table.
A second point appeared.
Faint.
Unstable.
Moving.
Qaritas frowned.
"Who's Qirak?"
Xheavend answered.
"Ascendant of Aether."
A pause.
"Marasailyn's beloved."
The word sounded ancient in her mouth.
Not boyfriend.
Not husband.
Not mate.
Beloved.
Someone chosen across lifetimes long enough to make ordinary language feel temporary.
Qaritas looked at the moving signal.
"And he's on Lamentis?"
"We believe so."
He sighed.
"I am beginning to dislike that phrase."
"You should."
"What is he doing?"
Gawi enlarged the signal.
It flickered.
Vanished.
Returned somewhere else.
Then disappeared again.
"Looking for her."
Xheavend stepped closer.
"You spoke to him?"
"Briefly."
"When?"
"Eleven days ago."
"And since?"
"Nothing reliable."
Xheavend's jaw tightened.
"Is he captured?"
"I don't believe so."
"Injured?"
"Possible."
"Hiding?"
"Likely."
"From Yzer?"
"Among others."
Qaritas stared at the signal.
It disappeared.
Returned thousands of kilometres away.
Then vanished again.
"That seems inconvenient."
"Aether is inconvenient."
Xheavend glanced at him.
Qaritas shrugged.
"I don't know what it is."
"Then how do you know?"
"Everything involving Ascendants eventually becomes inconvenient."
Ylaris spoke from behind him.
"Reasonable."
Qaritas pointed at him.
"Thank you."
Kysena smiled.
Gawi ignored all of them.
"Qirak has been moving through Lamentis using the Aether."
Yandaro frowned.
"What's that?"
Gawi looked toward him.
"The medium between certain forms of matter, energy and dimensional structure."
Yandaro's attention sharpened.
Qaritas noticed immediately.
Oh no.
Gawi continued.
"Qirak can enter it."
Yandaro moved closer.
"Ships can?"
"Some."
That was a mistake.
Qaritas watched approximately seventeen new engineering problems appear behind Yandaro's eyes.
"Don't."
Yandaro looked at him.
"What?"
"Whatever you're thinking."
"I'm not thinking anything."
"You have the same expression Xheavend gets before violating natural law."
Xheavend looked offended.
"I don't have an expression."
"You absolutely do."
Gawi interrupted.
"Qirak has been using the Aether to avoid detection and search for Marasailyn."
Xheavend's humor vanished.
"Why can't he find her?"
"We don't know."
"How long has she been missing?"
Gawi looked at the projection.
"Long enough."
That wasn't an answer.
Xheavend knew it.
But before she could push—
the moving signal representing Qirak vanished again.
This time—
it didn't return.
Everyone stared.
Qaritas slowly looked at Gawi.
"Is that normal?"
"No."
That single word changed the air.
Xheavend stepped toward the map.
"Bring it back."
"I'm trying."
Gawi's four hands moved.
The projection shifted.
Expanded.
Searched.
Nothing.
Xheavend's voice sharpened.
"Gawi."
"I know."
"Find him."
"I am."
The camp continued around them.
Ships launching.
Soldiers moving.
Healers working.
But beneath the command structure—
everyone watched an empty place on a map where an Ascendant had been seconds earlier.
Then—
something flickered.
Not Qirak.
A transmission.
Broken.
Gawi caught it.
Static filled the air.
A voice emerged.
Male.
Distorted.
Barely there.
"—sailyn—"
Xheavend went rigid.
Gawi amplified it.
Static.
"—found—"
Then screaming interference.
The transmission collapsed.
Qaritas stared.
"Was that Qirak?"
"Yes."
Xheavend moved closer.
"What did he say?"
Gawi replayed it.
"—sailyn—"
Static.
"—found—"
Gone.
Xheavend's face changed.
"He found her?"
Gawi didn't answer.
Qaritas listened again.
Something bothered him.
"Wait."
Gawi stopped.
"Play it again."
She did.
"—sailyn—"
Static.
"—found—"
Qaritas frowned.
"That doesn't necessarily mean he found her."
Xheavend looked at him.
He hated saying it.
But—
"Someone may have found him."
Silence.
Gawi shut down the transmission.
The map remained.
Lamentis glowed beneath them.
One missing Ascendant.
One vanished signal.
And somewhere on that world—
Marasailyn.
Xheavend's aunt.
Qirak's beloved.
The Ascendant of Destiny.
Qaritas looked at Gawi.
"When do we leave?"
"At dawn."
Xheavend answered immediately.
"No."
Everyone looked at her.
Her mismatched eyes remained fixed on Lamentis.
"We leave now."
Qaritas stared at Xheavend.
Then at Gawi.
Then back at Xheavend.
"No."
Xheavend's eyes narrowed.
"No?"
"We are not doing that."
"We need to leave."
"Yes."
"Now."
"Still yes."
"Then why did you say no?"
"Because you said it like you were about to personally sprint through space."
Xheavend opened her mouth.
Qaritas pointed at her.
"And before you say you could—"
"I could."
"Exactly."
Gawi's four hands continued moving across the projection.
Lamentis rotated slowly above the table.
Qirak's signal remained absent.
No flicker.
No second transmission.
Nothing.
Xheavend watched the empty place where his marker had disappeared.
"We don't know how much time they have."
"No," Gawi said.
"Then we're wasting it."
"We are preparing."
"That's wasting it slower."
Gawi's permanent smile remained unchanged.
Her wings did not.
The vast blood-crystal structures shifted behind her.
Barely.
Enough.
Qaritas had learned that with Gawi, one did not look at the smile.
One watched everything else.
She was worried.
That—
worried him.
Ylaris stepped toward the map.
"How many vessels?"
"Three."
"Only three?"
"Anything larger will announce us before we reach the system."
Kysena's gaze remained fixed on Lamentis.
"And extraction?"
"One primary."
Gawi touched the map.
A route appeared.
"Two secondary."
Another.
"Four emergency fracture points."
Yandaro leaned closer.
"What are fracture points?"
"Places where dimensional structure is unstable enough to force an exit."
"That sounds dangerous."
"It is."
"How dangerous?"
"That depends upon how attached you are to maintaining the original arrangement of your organs."
Yandaro stepped back.
Qaritas nodded.
"A useful measurement."
Xheavend didn't move.
Her attention remained on the world.
Then Qaritas realized something.
Something obvious.
Something he should have asked several minutes ago.
"Why her?"
Gawi stopped.
Not dramatically.
One claw simply ceased moving over the map.
Qaritas noticed.
So did Kysena.
Ylaris straightened.
Xheavend looked at Gawi.
Qaritas frowned.
"Gawi."
"Yes?"
"Why does Yzer want the Ascendant who can see Destiny?"
Silence.
The camp moved around them.
Somewhere beyond the command structure, an engine ignited.
Metal screamed.
Someone shouted measurements Qaritas didn't understand.
The Vaerash whispered beneath the wind.
Gawi said nothing.
Qaritas's stomach sank.
"That was not rhetorical."
"I know."
"Then answer it."
Gawi turned toward Marasailyn's projection.
Her four hands lowered.
"He doesn't need all of her."
Xheavend went still.
Qaritas stared.
"...I dislike that sentence."
"You should."
Kysena's expression had changed.
The softness disappeared.
Not completely.
Kysena always seemed to carry some quiet gentleness inside her.
But now—
the healer was gone.
Something older stood in her place.
Ylaris became completely motionless.
No teasing.
No irritation.
No warmth.
Even the fire threaded through his golden skin seemed to steady.
Xheavend looked from one twin to the other.
Then back to Gawi.
"What does he need?"
Gawi answered.
"Her eyes."
Nothing moved.
Qaritas heard the words.
Understood every individual one.
His mind still required several seconds to accept the sentence they formed together.
"Her..."
He stopped.
Looked at Marasailyn's projection.
At the light where her eyes should have been.
Then—
"Oh."
Xheavend already understood.
Her face had gone pale.
"No."
Gawi said nothing.
"No."
Xheavend stepped closer.
"Her sight is tied to them."
"Yes."
Qaritas looked between them.
"Explain."
Xheavend's voice came quietly.
"Some Ascendants don't perceive their domains the way everyone else does."
She touched beneath one of her own eyes.
"Marasailyn doesn't just see with hers."
A pause.
"She sees Destiny through them."
Qaritas looked at Gawi.
"So if Yzer takes them—"
"He may be able to use them."
"Without her?"
"Possibly."
Qaritas's jaw tightened.
"Possibly seems to be doing an unreasonable amount of work tonight."
"Would you prefer I lie?"
"No."
"Then possibly."
Kysena approached the projection.
"Would they remain viable?"
Gawi turned toward her.
"Long enough."
Kysena's gray eyes hardened.
"How long?"
"I don't know."
"Could he preserve them?"
"Yzer has preserved living tissue from Ascendants before."
That answer did something to Ylaris.
Heat rolled outward.
Not violently.
But the metal beneath his feet gave a tiny—
tick.
Qaritas glanced down.
Then at him.
Ylaris said nothing.
Kysena did.
"If he removes them improperly, he could destroy the structures responsible for the perception."
"Yes."
"If he removes them correctly—"
"He may preserve access."
Kysena's fingers tightened around her crescent staff.
Xheavend stared at Marasailyn.
"He doesn't need her cooperation."
"No."
"He doesn't need her alive afterward."
Gawi's wings shifted.
"No."
Silence.
Qaritas suddenly understood why Gawi had been reluctant to answer.
Not because the information was complicated.
Because it wasn't.
Yzer wanted something.
Marasailyn possessed it.
And somewhere in the space between those two facts—
her body had ceased mattering to him except as a container.
Qaritas looked at the projection.
"What could he do with them?"
Gawi was quiet.
"Too much."
"Specific."
Her head turned toward him.
"Marasailyn perceives convergence."
"Where events are trying to end."
"Yes."
Gawi raised one hand.
The branching pathways reappeared.
Thousands of them.
Worlds.
People.
Choices.
Wars.
Possible movements.
Then—
convergence.
"If Yzer gains reliable access to that perception, hiding becomes considerably more difficult."
Qaritas watched several paths bend toward one point.
"Because he'd know where we're going?"
"Not exactly."
Another hand moved.
"He may see where resistance movements are converging."
A point illuminated.
"Where armies are gathering."
Another.
"Where evacuations are ultimately headed."
Another.
"Where an imprisoned Ascendant is most likely to be taken after extraction."
Another.
"Where a rebellion's decisions are pulling it."
Yandaro looked up.
"Even if he doesn't know the plan?"
"He may not need the plan."
The boy's expression changed.
Gawi continued.
"If enough roads point toward the same destination—"
Her claw touched the convergence.
"—Destiny notices."
Qaritas felt cold.
"So every time someone escapes him..."
"He could look toward where their future is attempting to go."
"Every hidden base."
"Potentially."
"Every rescue."
"Potentially."
"Every army."
"Potentially."
Qaritas stared at the enormous camp around them.
Suddenly—
every ship looked vulnerable.
Every refugee.
Every healer.
Every soldier.
Every person Gawi had taught to survive without her.
Yandaro's unfinished vessel.
All of it.
Xheavend whispered—
"He could find where people are running."
Gawi looked at her.
"Yes."
That was worse.
Of course that was the version Xheavend understood immediately.
Not armies.
Not strategy.
People running.
People hiding.
People trying to get away.
And Yzer turning Destiny itself into a map.
Qaritas looked at Lamentis.
"How close are his hunters?"
"We don't know."
"How many?"
"We don't know."
"Where are they?"
"We don't know."
Qaritas stared at her.
"This mission contains an impressive quantity of ignorance."
"Yes."
"And we're going anyway."
"Yes."
"Good."
Gawi's head tilted.
Qaritas folded his arms.
"What?"
"I expected another complaint."
"Oh, I have several."
"Later?"
"Many."
"Good."
"But we're still going."
Xheavend looked at him.
Qaritas glanced toward her.
"What?"
She didn't answer.
He knew that look.
She was doing it again.
Taking everything.
Making it hers.
Marasailyn.
Qirak.
Hstrarkit.
Yandaro's father.
Six hundred corpses.
His scars.
Every failure becoming another stone she could tie around her own neck.
Qaritas stepped closer.
"Don't."
Her brow furrowed.
"Don't what?"
"Whatever you're currently blaming yourself for."
"I'm not—"
"You are."
"You can't know that."
"I've met you."
"That's not evidence."
"It has become extensive evidence."
Her mouth tightened.
Then—
something whispered behind her eyes.
Qaritas couldn't hear it.
He didn't need to.
Her gaze shifted slightly.
Not toward anyone.
Toward somewhere inside herself.
Yzer.
Qaritas's humor disappeared.
Gawi moved one claw across the map.
Several red points appeared around Lamentis.
Moving.
Xheavend saw them.
"What are those?"
"Possible hunter routes."
"Possible?"
"Based on movements from nearby occupied systems."
One route approached from above the world.
Another from beneath.
Two more curved around the system.
"They're already going."
"Yes."
"Do they know where she is?"
"No."
"Do we?"
"No."
Xheavend looked at the missing place where Qirak's signal had vanished.
"So everyone is searching blind."
"Not entirely."
Gawi touched another part of the map.
Small pulses appeared across Lamentis.
Irregular.
Faint.
"Marasailyn has been leaving traces."
Xheavend stepped forward.
"What kind?"
"Destiny disturbances."
Qaritas frowned.
"Meaning?"
"Events that should have converged..."
Gawi moved one hand.
Two lines approached each other.
At the last instant—
one bent away.
"...don't."
Another.
A collapse that should have occurred—
failed.
Another.
A patrol route changed seconds before reaching something unseen.
Another.
A transport vanished from one location and appeared somewhere else.
"She is altering outcomes around herself."
"Deliberately?"
"Probably."
"Why?"
Gawi looked toward the red hunter routes.
"To survive."
Qaritas stared.
"So we're looking for places where things keep going strangely right."
"Essentially."
He considered.
"That may be the least reassuring definition of tracking I've encountered."
"It works."
"Until it doesn't."
"Most things do."
Xheavend touched one of the disturbances.
The projection rippled around her finger.
"How long until they reach her?"
"We don't know."
Xheavend looked at Gawi.
"And if they find her before us?"
Gawi became very still.
All four hands lowered.
The blood-crystal webs of her wings stopped moving.
Even the tiny shards inside them seemed frozen.
"Our mission is not to defeat Yzer."
Her claw touched Lamentis.
"It is not to liberate the entire world."
Another hand touched the red routes.
"It is not to destroy every Eye he placed there."
Her eyeless face turned toward them.
"We find Marasailyn."
A second claw touched the empty location where Qirak's signal had disappeared.
"We find Qirak if possible."
Xheavend's expression hardened at the qualifier.
Gawi continued before she could object.
"And we leave before Yzer finds either."
Xheavend stared at the map.
"And if he finds her before us?"
Nobody spoke.
Gawi's smile remained.
Her voice did not change.
"Then we make certain he doesn't leave with her eyes."
The words settled over the command platform.
Kysena looked away.
Ylaris didn't.
Qaritas understood exactly what Gawi meant.
He wished he didn't.
Yandaro did not ask.
Perhaps he understood too.
Perhaps everyone standing beneath that map had spent enough time around war to recognize the shape of certain sentences.
Xheavend's hands curled into fists.
"No."
Gawi turned toward her.
"No?"
"We bring her back."
"If possible."
"No."
"Xheavend."
"We bring her back."
Gawi's four arms remained loose at her sides.
"I will try."
"Try harder."
Qaritas closed his eyes.
There it was.
The child beneath everything else.
The one who had spent years learning that everyone could disappear.
That people left.
That people died.
That sometimes you did everything correctly and still ended up standing beside a body.
Gawi did not become angry.
"I will."
Xheavend blinked.
Gawi continued.
"I will try harder."
No lecture.
No reminder that she couldn't save everyone.
They had already had that conversation.
Xheavend looked back at Lamentis.
And somewhere inside her blood—
something moved.
You'll fail her too.
Xheavend's breathing stopped.
Qaritas saw it.
Not the words.
The reaction.
Her fingers twitched.
Her pupils narrowed.
Then—
nothing.
She gave Yzer nothing.
The Bloodglass Marrow lay cold against her skin.
Kysena had applied it carefully along the places Gawi instructed.
Wrists.
Throat.
Spine.
Sternum.
Several points where blood ran close beneath the skin.
It had felt disgusting.
Cold.
Thick.
Almost alive.
Tiny crystal fragments shifting through the dark substance like ground stars suspended in blood.
It hadn't removed him.
Of course it hadn't.
Yzer remained.
In her blood.
In the places he had taught her to expect him.
In memories.
In reflexes.
In the fraction of a second before entering a room when she wondered whether he would already be there.
But—
something had changed.
Xheavend had noticed it minutes earlier.
Yzer's voice had come from nowhere.
Then somewhere.
Then nowhere again.
Less precise.
Searching.
The realization had frightened her enough that she hadn't trusted it.
Now—
Little ward.
The voice crawled through her blood.
Xheavend stared at Lamentis.
Where are you?
Her heart stumbled.
He hadn't said that before.
Not like that.
He always knew.
Room.
Corridor.
Ship.
Planet.
Her.
Always her.
Xheavend slowly looked down at her hands.
Then toward Gawi.
Gawi was already facing her.
No eyes.
Still somehow watching.
Xheavend whispered—
"He doesn't know."
Qaritas frowned.
"What?"
Her voice shook.
"He doesn't know exactly where I am."
Gawi nodded once.
"The Marrow is working."
Xheavend's fingers touched the cloak around her shoulders.
Yzer's presence pressed through her blood.
Not gone.
Never gone.
But reaching.
Feeling.
Searching for an exact coordinate that was no longer there.
What did she do to you?
Xheavend said nothing.
Little ward.
Her fingers tightened around the cloak.
For once—
Yzer was the one searching.
Not her.
Not running through corridors wondering which wall contained an Eye.
Not staring at doors wondering whether he waited behind them.
Not waking from stolen seconds of sleep wondering whether he had seen what she dreamed.
Him.
Searching.
And failing to find the exact place.
A tiny thing.
Pathetic compared with everything he had done.
But it was hers.
You cannot save everyone.
Xheavend's gaze returned to the map.
Yandaro's father.
Dead.
She saw the boy kneeling beside him.
Saw hands that could build engines unable to make a heart start again.
You couldn't save him.
Six hundred bodies.
Blood.
Eyes.
Teeth.
Her own hands.
You couldn't save them.
Qaritas.
His palm.
His shoulder.
His ribs.
His back.
Two fingers hitting the ground.
Blood coating his teeth.
Thirty-four days.
Look what you did to someone who came home.
Hstrarkit.
Yzer's Eyes.
A planetary core.
Oceans moving.
A sky changing.
A world realizing it was already dead.
You stood there.
Xheavend swallowed.
She had.
Because moving would have killed billions.
Knowing that didn't make standing still feel better.
It only made it necessary.
Her gaze moved across Gawi's map.
Occupied.
Contested.
Unknown.
Imprisoned.
Too many.
Far too many.
She couldn't save them all.
Gawi couldn't save them all.
Qaritas couldn't.
Kysena couldn't.
Ylaris couldn't.
Yandaro couldn't build enough ships tonight to carry an entire universe away from Yzer.
Nobody could.
Maybe that was the cruelty of it.
Power had never meant enough.
There was always another person beyond reach.
Another world.
Another prison.
Another grave.
Another name someone arrived too late to keep alive.
You cannot save everyone.
Xheavend stopped fighting the sentence.
That—
more than anything—
seemed to confuse him.
She didn't tell him he was wrong.
Didn't scream.
Didn't demand silence.
Didn't argue that she would save everyone.
Because she wouldn't.
She couldn't.
Her eyes moved across the map.
One light.
Lamentis.
Somewhere beneath it—
Marasailyn.
Alive.
Still moving.
Still changing outcomes.
Still refusing whatever ending was trying to close around her.
And somewhere nearby—
Qirak.
Missing.
Maybe wounded.
Maybe hunted.
Maybe still searching for the woman he loved.
Not dead.
Not confirmed.
Not gone.
Not yet.
Xheavend reached toward the projection.
Her finger touched Lamentis.
The world glowed beneath her skin.
You'll fail her too.
Her mismatched eyes hardened.
"I don't need everyone."
Silence.
Qaritas looked at her.
Gawi did too.
They couldn't hear him.
But they heard her.
Xheavend pulled the cloak tighter around her shoulders.
Yzer searched through her blood.
Found a universe.
Perhaps a world.
Perhaps only distance.
But not the room.
Not the camp.
Not the exact place where she stood.
Her finger remained against Lamentis.
One person.
One destination.
One chance that had not yet become a grave.
"I need her."