Kael hated markets.
Not because they were crowded.
Crowds were easy.
Too many people meant too many eyes, too many movements, too many possible threats. Kael had spent enough years in the Empire to know how to read a crowd.
He hated markets because everyone dressed as though they had something to prove.
A young martial artist passed him wearing a sleeveless black coat over loose white trousers, silver chains hanging from his belt.
A noblewoman followed, dressed in a long emerald gown beneath a cropped leather jacket. A thin relic bracelet glowed around her wrist.
Two merchants argued nearby while wearing nearly identical modern suits, except one had replaced the traditional shirt underneath with a high-collared silk tunic.
Kael looked at them.
Fashion has become warfare.
He continued walking.
His own clothes were simpler.
A dark Imperial coat fitted close around his shoulders, with a high collar and silver fastening along the chest. Beneath it he wore loose black martial trousers tucked into reinforced boots.
The style was neither fully military nor fully traditional.
It was practical.
Kael preferred practical.
The sword at his side was not.
Eclipsion rested against his hip.
Its sheath was black, almost matte, with thin silver lines running along its length like cracks frozen beneath glass.
Kael had never liked ornamental weapons.
But Eclipsion had not been made for decoration.
It had been made to separate.
And Kael had learned long ago that everything eventually had something that could be separated from it.
A man from his past.
A promise.
A lie.
A limb.
A life.
A Concept.
His fingers briefly touched the hilt.
Then he removed them.
Not here.
The Imperial district rose above the eastern section of Velkaris Prime.
Unlike the older parts of the city, its architecture was severe.
Tall black towers.
Stone bridges.
Glass walls.
Old Imperial banners beside electronic displays.
The Empire had never completely decided whether it wanted to look ancient or modern.
So it had chosen both.
Kael entered the military headquarters.
The guards immediately stepped aside.
Nobody asked for his identification.
Nobody needed to.
The room beyond was already waiting.
Five people sat around a circular table.
Kael recognized four.
The fifth was a stranger.
He was young.
Perhaps thirty.
Dark-skinned, with a narrow face and tightly curled black hair. He wore a white long coat over a dark green shirt, loose black trousers and polished boots.
The coat was strange.
Not military.
Not noble.
Not martial.
It had several narrow pockets sewn into the inside, and each pocket carried a small metal instrument.
The stranger looked at Kael.
Then at Eclipsion.
Then back at Kael.
"That sword is ugly."
Silence.
Kael sat.
"You're alive."
The stranger smiled.
"Unfortunately for everyone."
Kael recognized him now.
His name was Jio.
Not a Concept User.
Not officially.
Not yet.
But Kael remembered the stories.
The man who could make catastrophes out of ordinary mistakes.
The man who had once attempted to create a weapon during a duel and accidentally manifested a ceramic teapot.
Kael had not witnessed that incident.
He had read the report.
Three times.
He still didn't understand how a teapot had resulted in two broken ribs, a collapsed balcony, and the surrender of an armed gang.
Jio leaned forward.
"You're staring."
"I'm remembering."
"Good things?"
"No."
Jio nodded approvingly.
"Those are usually the memorable ones."
One of the Imperial officers cleared his throat.
"Can we begin?"
Jio looked at him.
"You've already begun."
"We haven't discussed the matter."
"You invited us into the same room."
Jio pointed around the table.
"That's the beginning of a meeting."
The officer's expression tightened.
Kael almost smiled.
Almost.
The officer placed a document on the table.
"Three Regressors have disappeared."
Jio's expression changed.
The humor remained, but something sharper entered his eyes.
"Disappeared?"
"Two confirmed dead. One missing."
"Cause?"
"Unknown."
Jio leaned back.
"Then you don't have three Regressors."
Kael looked at him.
Jio shrugged.
"You have two dead Regressors and one person you haven't found."
The officer frowned.
Kael said:
"He's right."
Jio pointed at Kael.
"See?"
Kael looked at him.
"Don't become excited."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I've been waiting years for you to agree with me."
Kael looked at the officer.
"Continue."
A map appeared above the table.
Three locations illuminated.
One in the northern industrial district.
One outside the western wall.
One far beyond the city.
Kael studied them.
"They aren't close."
"No."
"Then why connect them?"
The officer changed the map.
Additional marks appeared.
Seven.
Kael's eyes narrowed.
The seven incidents formed a rough curve.
Jio stopped smiling.
"That's ugly."
Kael looked at him.
"Your specialty."
"Very funny."
The map changed again.
One location disappeared.
Then another.
The officer spoke.
"The records are changing."
Kael stared.
"What records?"
"Death records. Witness accounts. Military reports."
Jio's fingers stopped tapping.
Kael looked at him.
Jio was no longer joking.
That mattered.
"How quickly?" Kael asked.
"Hours."
"That's impossible."
"No."
Jio's eyes remained fixed on the map.
"It's merely unpleasant."
Kael looked at him.
Jio sighed.
"Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're expecting me to explain something."
"You usually pretend you can."
"Exactly."
The officer rubbed his forehead.
"Can you two behave like adults?"
Kael and Jio looked at him.
"No," Jio said.
Kael said nothing.
The officer sighed.
A door opened.
Everyone stopped talking.
A woman entered.
She wore a long white coat over a fitted black dress, with silver embroidery around the cuffs. Her hair was tied behind her head, and a thin black veil rested around her neck.
She carried no visible weapon.
That didn't make her harmless.
Kael recognized the pressure around her immediately.
Concept User.
Strong.
Not enough to threaten him.
Enough to make everyone else in the room instinctively straighten.
Jio looked at her.
"You're late."
She ignored him.
Her eyes went to Kael.
"Severance."
Kael stared back.
"Yes."
She looked toward Eclipsion.
"Still carrying it."
"Obviously."
"Why?"
Kael's expression hardened.
"Because it's mine."
She smiled faintly.
"No."
Her eyes moved to the sword.
"Because you're afraid of what happens when you stop carrying it."
The room became quiet.
Kael's fingers slowly moved toward Eclipsion.
Jio's eyebrows rose.
Oh.
The woman smiled.
Kael's hand stopped.
"What's your Concept?"
She looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because you seem very interested in mine."
"That's because yours is interesting."
Kael stared.
She continued.
"Mine isn't your concern."
Jio leaned toward the nearest officer.
"Should I start taking bets?"
The officer whispered:
"No."
"Five coins."
"No."
"Ten?"
"No."
Jio leaned back.
"Fine."
The woman finally looked at him.
"And you."
Jio smiled.
"Me?"
"You're dangerous."
His smile widened.
"Thank you."
"It wasn't praise."
"I choose to interpret it that way."
She stared at him.
Jio shrugged.
"That's the advantage of being unreasonable."
Kael sighed.
I should have stayed in bed.
The meeting continued.
But Kael's attention remained on the map.
Seven incidents.
Three Regressors.
Changing records.
Someone was removing people from history.
Not killing them.
Something worse.
Making the world forget that they had ever been there.
Kael had encountered memory manipulation before.
This wasn't that.
The world itself was behaving differently.
That thought disturbed him.
Because Concepts were not merely abilities.
They were interpretations.
And when two powerful Concepts collided—
reality sometimes had to decide which interpretation was allowed to remain.
Kael looked at the map again.
Then remembered Eryndor.
A Regresser.
A boy who should have been progressing toward Concept Userhood.
Except he wasn't.
Kael had seen unstable Regressors before.
They behaved like broken clocks.
Repeating moments.
Losing memories.
Experiencing events out of order.
Eryndor was different.
He didn't repeat.
He seemed to approach things from the wrong direction.
Kael's jaw tightened.
What exactly are you?
Elsewhere, Eryndor had found another restaurant.
Elira stared at him.
"No."
Eryndor looked at the entrance.
"Why?"
"Because we ate less than two hours ago."
"They have grilled meat."
"Everyone has grilled meat."
"That doesn't make it less useful."
Elira crossed her arms.
"Eryndor."
He looked at her.
She looked at him.
He looked at the restaurant again.
Then back.
"Fine."
Elira smiled.
They walked past.
Three steps.
Eryndor stopped.
Elira closed her eyes.
"Don't."
"There's a smell."
"Don't."
"Something's cooking."
"Eryndor."
He looked at her.
She stared.
He stared back.
"You're not going inside."
"Why?"
"Because I know you."
"That's unfortunate."
She grabbed his sleeve.
He looked down at her hand.
Then at her.
She released it.
"Come on."
Eryndor glanced at the restaurant.
Then followed.
He smiled slightly.
Elira noticed.
"You are incredibly easy to manipulate."
Eryndor looked at her.
"You physically dragged me."
"Exactly."
"That's not manipulation."
"Fine."
She smiled.
"You're incredibly easy to drag."
"Better."
The restaurant specialized in grilled meat.
Not from one culture.
Several.
The menu was enormous.
Eryndor stared at it.
Elira leaned over.
"You can't order everything."
"I'm not going to."
"Good."
"I'm choosing."
She relaxed.
Then saw what he was pointing at.
"That's enough for three people."
Eryndor looked at the portion.
"Then we'll have leftovers."
"You're impossible."
A waiter arrived.
Eryndor ordered.
Elira ordered tea.
Then they waited.
For once, Eryndor didn't look toward the exits.
Didn't study strangers.
Didn't think about Concepts.
He simply sat.
The music was quiet.
The lights were warm.
Elira rested her chin against her hand.
"You know..."
Eryndor looked up.
"What?"
"You've changed."
His expression became still.
Elira immediately noticed.
"Don't make that face."
"What face?"
"The one where you start thinking about something horrifying."
"I'm not."
"You are."
Eryndor looked down.
"What changed?"
Elira considered him.
"You're more comfortable."
He didn't answer.
"You used to look like you were waiting for something to attack you."
"Maybe I was."
"Now?"
Eryndor looked around the restaurant.
People laughing.
Food arriving.
A couple arguing quietly.
Someone at the next table spilling a drink.
An old man asleep beside his plate.
Eryndor looked back at Elira.
"Now I'm waiting for the food."
She laughed.
He smiled.
And for a moment, that was enough.
Then the restaurant doors exploded inward.
The sound was violent enough to silence everyone.
Wood splintered.
Glass scattered.
Someone screamed.
A man flew through the doorway and crashed across three tables.
Eryndor stood immediately.
Elira was already moving.
The man on the floor coughed blood.
Three figures entered.
Their clothes were strange.
Black martial coats.
Modern reinforced boots.
Masks covering the lower halves of their faces.
The first carried a curved blade.
The second had metal claws attached to both hands.
The third—
was covered in blood.
Not his own.
He looked around the restaurant.
His eyes were bright.
Almost delighted.
"Which one?"
The first attacker pointed.
"Anyone."
The third smiled.
"Wonderful."
He moved.
Eryndor saw him cross the room.
Too fast.
A normal human would have seen a blur.
Eryndor saw the movement.
He stepped sideways.
The blade missed his throat by a finger.
Eryndor caught the attacker's wrist.
Twisted.
Bone cracked.
The man screamed.
Eryndor drove his forehead into the man's face.
Blood sprayed across the floor.
The attacker stumbled.
Eryndor kicked his knee.
It bent incorrectly.
He fell.
Elira moved behind the second attacker.
She struck the back of his neck.
He dropped.
The third attacker laughed.
"Good!"
He rushed Eryndor.
Eryndor raised his arm.
The impact sent him through a table.
Wood shattered beneath his back.
Pain exploded across his ribs.
He rolled away as the attacker brought his weapon down.
The blade struck the floor.
Eryndor kicked the man's ankle.
The attacker stumbled.
Eryndor grabbed his coat.
Pulled.
The man's face slammed into the table.
Blood spread across the wood.
Eryndor grabbed his hair.
"Who sent you?"
The man laughed.
Eryndor slammed his face against the table again.
"Who."
The attacker spat blood.
"You're the one."
Eryndor froze.
The man smiled through broken teeth.
"The beginning."
Something inside Eryndor went cold.
The attacker moved.
A knife appeared in his hand.
Eryndor caught his wrist.
The knife stopped inches from his eye.
Their faces were close.
The man's smile widened.
"You don't even know what you are."
Eryndor's fingers tightened.
The bone in the man's wrist cracked.
His smile disappeared.
Eryndor leaned closer.
"Then tell me."
The man screamed.
And Eryndor heard something beneath the scream.
A whisper.
Not from the man.
From somewhere else.
A voice he had heard before.
A voice from a memory that wasn't his.
Run.
Eryndor froze.
The attacker tore his wrist free.
He pulled something from his coat.
A small black sphere.
Kael had once described such things as emergency relics.
Eryndor knew immediately.
"Elira!"
She turned.
The sphere cracked.
Reality distorted.
For one moment, the restaurant stretched impossibly far.
Tables became distant.
People became shadows.
The floor tilted.
Then—
BOOM.
The room disappeared beneath white light.
When Eryndor opened his eyes, the restaurant was gone.
Not destroyed.
Gone.
He stood in the street.
Rain began falling again.
Elira was beside him.
Her hair was disordered.
Blood ran down her cheek.
Eryndor looked at her.
"You're hurt."
She touched the blood.
"Not mine."
Eryndor looked toward the restaurant.
People were running.
The attackers were gone.
Except one.
The man with the broken wrist lay beneath the wreckage.
He was alive.
Barely.
Eryndor approached.
Elira followed.
The man looked up.
His eyes widened.
Not at Eryndor.
At something behind him.
Eryndor turned.
Nothing.
He looked back.
The man's expression had changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
"What did you see?"
The man struggled to breathe.
"Nothing."
Eryndor crouched.
"Don't lie."
The man's eyes moved toward the sky.
"Not yet."
Eryndor frowned.
"What's not yet?"
The man smiled.
Then his body went limp.
Elira checked him.
"Dead."
Eryndor stared.
The rain continued falling.
He looked at his blood-covered hands.
Then at the ruined restaurant.
Then at Elira.
She was watching him.
"What?"
She shook her head.
"Nothing."
"Say it."
Elira hesitated.
"You didn't look surprised."
Eryndor stared at her.
She continued.
"When he called you the beginning."
Eryndor's expression became unreadable.
"I've heard worse."
"That's not what I meant."
He knew.
She knew.
Neither spoke.
Above them, the clouds shifted.
For the briefest moment, Eryndor thought he saw something in the sky.
A shape.
A line.
A thread.
Gold.
Then it vanished.
Eryndor looked away.
Elira watched him.
She didn't ask.
Not yet.
And somewhere across the city, in an Imperial room filled with maps, Kael suddenly stood.
Every relic on the table had gone dark.
Jio looked up.
"What happened?"
Kael's hand went to Eclipsion.
He felt it.
A pressure.
A presence.
Something distant.
Something wrong.
Jio slowly stood.
For once, he didn't joke.
The woman in the white coat looked toward the ceiling.
Kael whispered:
"Something just noticed him."
And far beneath Velkaris Prime—
something answered.