The soft beeping sound mirrored that in his chest.

  Opening one eye was a struggle.

  The other opened fine since it lacked tear glands.

  “Hey, you. Finally awake! Ambush got you too, huh?”

  “Dad? What’s going on? It’s hard to breathe.”

  “I’m sorry, Boy. The doctors think that your body’s shutting down. It might have something to do with that night you beat the demigod.”

  “No. That’s not really what’s going on. Is it? Because this isn’t real. This is a mindscape.”

  “Which is indistinguishable from what one might call ‘reality’.”

  His dad laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  “What do you want, my precious boy? I’ll do everything in my power to give it to you. Just please tell me you can stay longer.”

  “Let me see the truth.”

  “I— it’s a risk. I’m slowing things down, but it can’t be stopped and if I do that things could speed up and escape my hold.”

  “It’s okay. I’m smart enough to figure it out.”

  The truth felt like a massive weight on his chest against which he struggled to draw air into his lungs.

  “15 years,” he rattled a breath out. “It seemed so real. I didn’t know you were this good.”

  “I got desperate.”

  For a moment he thought he saw blood streaming out of his dad’s face holes, creating a crimson mask.

  “Phosfuraie?”

  “Soon to be dead.”

  “I don’t want you to—”

  “Don’t talk about him. Don’t think about him. He earned his fate. You beat him. You saved everyone.”

  “Not by myself.”

  “No. The rangers won’t be forgotten. I will remember Brittany and Michael.”

  “Was I… was I alone in there?”

  “No. We were with you. Everyone within my range.”

  “Did you— did they—”

  “Don’t worry. Each person had the choice to say—” His dad swallowed. “To say their goodbyes.”

  The weight on his chest grew.

  “How far did you have to go to link them?”

  “As far as Manila, China, Africa.”

  “The strain—”

  “Don’t worry about that my boy.”

  “It’s kinda hard not to, Dad. I don’t want you to burn your brain out just for me.”

  “I would burn everything if only…” His dad wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t waste time. It’s slipping away too quickly now.”

  He reached out, rather he tried.

  “I can’t move my arm, Dad.”

  His dad took his hand and squeezed.

  He felt it, but couldn’t squeeze back.

  “My real body’s gone, isn’t it?”

  His dad shook his head, but the answer was written all over the slumped shoulders.

  “Don’t feel bad. You gave me almost 20 years with Kat. With you guys and everyone. I thought I wasn’t going to get a chance to see any of you ever again. I had no hope that I could even get a chance to say goodbye, but you gave me 20 years of a happy life.”

  “Was it? I mean… was it happy?”

  “You know it was, Dad.”

  His dad smiled through the tears.

  “I can…” his dad hesitated. “I can hold you for a little longer. Enough to speak to maybe two people for a bit.”

  “Kat and Mom.”

  “They’re waiting.”

  “Can you tell the others that I’m sorry and that if I had more time I would’ve liked to say one last goodbye with them too?”

  “They all got their chance. No one will hold it against you.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” He struggled to wheeze out the next breath. “Can you do something for me?”

  “Anything.”

  “Two things. I don’t want to become a monster. Make sure our relatives are finally free.”

  “I promise.”

  “And don’t go for revenge.”

  His dad’s jaw clenched.

  “I don’t want you or anyone to lose who they are for me. I know I can’t stop you and I wouldn’t ask that. Just, please do it for the right reasons. Like how you’ve always taught me.”

  “I will.” His dad let out a breath. “Okay. I’ll send your mom in first. Don’t worry about the time. I’ll make sure you get enough with her and then Kat. I love you, my boy. I will carry you to the end.”

  “Love you too, Dad. I don’t regret any of it. Please believe that.”

  “Of course.” His dad’s voice was thick.

  “It’s better to die as myself than as a gray.”

  His dad choked back a sob.

  “The time you gave me… us… was the greatest gift.”

  Was it like drowning?

  Where the body fought instinctively against the liquid rushing into its lungs?

  For a desperate gasp of oxygen to stave off the final darkness?

  Cal didn’t know.

  He had never drowned anyone.

  The closest were monsters and he didn’t like the comparison because they had struggled to the bitter end in sheer instinctual panic and desperation.

  He didn’t want to dirty his son’s end by drawing that connection.

  The gray struggled against Alin’s last wish to fade away.

  Echoes of their relatives would’ve lashed out at anything despite their own fading self-awareness fighting against the hunger if not for his efforts to restrain them across the city.

  He closed his eyes and tightened his grip, holding on for what felt like an eternity before the merciful end.

  The gray became empty.

  Lifeless.

  Void of echoes… of his son.

  It slowly dissipated, leaving him alone in the chamber with the dying demigod.

  Suiteonemiades— Phosfuraie in the demigod’s heart, but he was feeling too petty and vindictive to grant even that small bit of empathy— coughed a gout of crimson flecked with bits of gold. His words came out in a whisper.

  “Such an unfortunate waste.” He struggled to wipe the blood with a mangled hand. “See? Do you see? The child can— could have taken even a God’s divinity. He could have ended my father.”

  “Shut up.” He closed the demigod’s mouth with a thought. “You don’t get last words.” He pulled at the bulbous black helmet with a thought.

  The demigod’s chest shuddered.

  It took a moment to realize that it was a rattling laughter as the helmet still refused to be parted from the demigod.

  “I won’t stop even if it rips your head from your body.”

  Dark eyes bored into his as if to convey the words he had forbidden.

  The helmet popped off in the next moment.

  He sank fingers into Suiteonemiades’ thoughts without hesitation, nor the usual consideration.

  A thousand years of life ripped through in a fraction of a second.

  No memory left uncovered.

  Everything the demigod was… everything that led him to this moment. Everything that led to a young man’s death—

  Cal silenced his empathy and focused on his search.

  For something to make his precious Boy’s sacrifice mean something.

  Even if he knew that he would never, could never find anything that would make his son’s eternal absence worth it.

  Not even the death of a so-called god.

  He found the demigod’s intricate plan to commit patricide using Alin.

  A bitter laugh escaped his lips.

  “I could’ve helped you. Your father would be dead and gone forever, unable to return like they do and my son would still be alive!”

  Invisible force accompanied the shout, shaking the chamber.

  A thousand years of life.

  One could do much in that span.

  Evil deeds, good deeds and everything in between.

  Suiteonemiades had done it all.

  Been equal parts villain and hero.

  Cal scoffed. He supposed it was all a matter of perspective anyways.

  He regarded the broken demigod.

  There were drawbacks to superior physicals.

  One of which the demigod struggled with at the moment was his body’s refusal to go into shock despite how mangled it was.

  He could prolong the death. Make the demigod experience years of a slow, painful death.

  But why?

  It wouldn’t bring his precious boy back.

  “Your father will die, but I will not do it for you.” He waved a hand through the fading fog. The wisps slipped through his fingers. If only he could hold his son one more time. “I want you to understand something. I know you’ve studied a different psionic prime from ages ago. So, you know that I know everything there is to know about you. A perfect reading of your memories. So, you can die with the perfect understanding through your own memories of the tragic fact that your mother would be very disappointed with what you’ve made of the life she gifted you. You can only blame your father up to a point. You could’ve chosen to be better. To rise above the path he set you on. To defy his will. To carry your mother’s instead. It would’ve been better for you to have died centuries ago living up to her, rather than bringing so much suffering to so many across worlds descending down to him.”

  He gave Suiteonemiades a moment to process the words before shutting of the demigod’s mind.

  The body followed with a last whimper, a final wheezing breath.

  He took a moment to force control.

  There was still a war to end.

  The Moon, Summer 2057

  Space was surprisingly empty.

  Not surprisingly silent since she had been properly educated and learned a long time ago that sound waves didn’t travel in a vacuum.

  Not that she was completely sensory deprived.

  She had a full suit with its faint hums and occasional beeps.

  The lights and numbers in her HUD were most welcome in the void.

  “The stars look different out here.”

  “How so, Master Rayna?”

  She glanced at the display to see who she was talking to.

  A Ranger Four-0-Five.

  Did their naming conventions get worse every year?

  She decided it was just a bad as it was from the beginning.

  This ranger was the third to take the comms shift on her two hour journey.

  “Ranger, you’re going to stop calling me ‘master’. Understand?”

  “I— I— orders, Master Rayna!”

  She was technically semi-retired, but that was essentially meaningless in practice.

  However, she didn’t want to abuse her standing and cause consternation for the young ones.

  “Is Kayl standing over your shoulder?”

  “No…”

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  “Okay, then you don’t have to follow those orders, do you?”

  “Um…”

  “You know what, don’t worry about it. Let’s maintain radio silence unless there’s an emergency.”

  “Understood, Mast— Rayna.”

  She could almost hear the girl’s cringe.

  The moon loomed.

  Gray and bright.

  The stars were brighter and varied in color compared to when she viewed them from the Earth.

  “God, it’s scary out here.”

  There seemed to her to be a lot more empty blackness surrounding her, pressing from all directions.

  It was a tossup for her which had been more oppressive this or the bottom of the ocean.

  She created two gravity fields.

  One around her to cancel out the physical effects on her body by the one she created in front of her to slow her approach.

  A trip through an airlock, elevator and another airlock and she was inside the crypt? Tomb? Cemetery? Necropolis?

  The last fit better in regards to the facility’s massive size.

  However, she’d rather give the place a proper name and call it that or simply call it a memorial.

  She preferred not to see it as a place of the dead despite that being technically correct.

  “Cal? Where are you?”

  A location pinged in her HUD.

  She found her oldest brother sitting in the lotus position floating in midair in front of a block of Threnium.

  A memorial in progress.

  Her nephew.

  The thought sent a pang of regret through her.

  She steeled her thoughts and removed her helmet.

  It was a tiny gesture, but she felt it was the least she could do to avoid adding to her brother’s pain.

  “Don’t worry about that. What’s one more drop in an ocean anyways?”

  “Are your walls forming leaks?”

  “One of the reasons I spend most of my time up here.”

  She watched her brother work.

  The movements of his fingers were so imperceptible that a normal human or one without perception Skills would’ve thought they were immobile.

  The Threnium flowed like liquid, then hardened to take shape.

  The memorial was less than halfway done from the looks of it.

  Boy as a baby, a toddler, a child of every age.

  Her brother was in the middle of sculpting her nephew at age 10 from the looks of it.

  “That was when you got him started with the surfing.”

  “I had to. I couldn’t allow you to convert him to snowboarding without a challenge.”

  “Well, I guess the joke was on us. He ended up with two gnarly hobbies to have fun with.” She couldn’t help but smile at the memories.

  “Thank you for that.”

  “I’d never tell you what and how to feel. For me, I try to remember things and events that warm my heart and bring a smile to my face.”

  “And the tears that come along with them?”

  “I accept them all together.” She shrugged. “It reminds me that I’ll never forget.”

  “I am incapable of forgetting. Memories are as fresh and clear as the day I experienced them… unless…” He shook his head. “They can be erased or the emotions deadened, even stripped from them. The pain—”

  “Reminds me that he lived and left his mark on me in all ways, big and small.”

  “I know. I’d never do that.”

  The silence of the cavernous chamber was oppressive.

  It made her uncomfortable to be surrounded by the dimly-lit darkness as the lights shut off in the distance.

  The only noise was the faint thrum of the gravity generators work running underneath the floor plating.

  “How’s Nila?”

  “Asleep. Dreaming of happy times with our son. She was going to wake up to greet you, but you’re two hours early.”

  “I may have been too conservative with my initial estimate.”

  “The first trip to the moon under your own power is pretty sketchy.”

  “I know, right! I was freaked out that I’d miss! I mean, it would’ve been easy to just go back, but still…”

  “Same for me, but you’re attuned to gravity fields. I’m sure even if you were blinded you’d be able to find the moon or Earth easily.”

  “I was also worried about some kind of space monster grabbing me with tentacles.”

  “No such thing.”

  “… so far.”

  Her brother nodded.

  “Didn’t see any moon wraiths.”

  “You mean lunar ghosts.”

  “I mean what I say.”

  “Well, they’re currently extinct. Though they’ll be back in a few days or a week.”

  Her brother sighed and waved a hand, wiping out several sculptures of his son.

  “What was wrong?”

  “They didn’t look right.”

  They had looked perfect to her.

  Almost as if little Boy was about to leap down and jump on her for an auntie hug.

  The memory gripped her heart and squeezed mercilessly.

  Silence reigned for a time.

  “You’re going to want to see the rangers’ memorials?”

  “Before I leave.”

  “Are you here for business talk?”

  She scowled at her brother’s back.

  “I keep such talk to official communication channels per your request. Official communications you have been answering tersely and most unsatisfactorily, most.”

  “I’ve been professional. And I’ve monitored things. They’re going perfectly fine. Hayden’s done well taking over operational command. Dayana’s Smoke and Shadow Initiative started well. My rehabilitation program is green on all metrics. Lera’s more active. ”

  “Your assassin is reporting to me now.”

  “You accepted. Besides, she can report to Eron too.”

  “In theory, but in practice he’s not easy to find.” She crossed her arms. “There’s other things. What’s left of the Americans—”

  “The protocols will be sufficient.”

  “Rabbit people hordes keep hording out of nowhere. There was a worm-rabbit people horde last week.”

  “Which you easily crushed.”

  “Worm. Ridden. Rabbit. People.”

  “Well, we know enough went underground. You know, warrens and such. There are worms underground. Ergo…”

  “Ergo there are still a lot of problems even without the demigods.”

  “Throw Alcaestus at them. He swore to perform repentance labors for his god’s honor or whatever. It’s why I didn’t send him away or kill him like the other eidolons.”

  “You didn’t get all of them.”

  “Yeah, the ones that are in other lands and have attached themselves to dumbasses. Let them all find out. It’s a good cassus belli if you and Eron want them.”

  “You know I don’t and I don’t think it’s a good idea to go around being colonizer-type a-holes.”

  “I’m leaving, Rayna. Nila and I are leaving and that isn’t going to be changed or delayed.”

  “I know, you told us already.”

  “Then, you’re not going to try to convince me otherwise. Mom and Dad couldn’t do it.”

  “I’m not trying to tell you not to go. I’m just suggesting that you take longer to plan and prepare. Maybe, you and Nila go with more than just the two of you?”

  “No,” he said flatly, turning to look at her for the first time.

  He looked normal.

  She might’ve expected dark shadows under his eyes, however, he could go without sleep for weeks at a time, perhaps even years with skilled use of his powers.

  Perhaps, she expected an unkempt appearance.

  Scraggly hair and an unshaven beard.

  But, no, he looked clean.

  If one didn’t know then one wouldn’t think he had suffered a devastating lost half a year ago.

  Then again he had always been a stoic sort when it came to personal pain and suffering.

  She had cause to remember an incident when she was a child.

  Four years old and carefree as only a child could be.

  She had barreled right into a hot pot set low to the ground in some backyard.

  Face first had it not been for Cal, who had swooped in and swept her away.

  Not before her momentum pushed his arm against the side of the stainless steel.

  She remembered the smell. The flap of skin hanging loosely, revealing the ugly red underneath. The blank look on her brother’s face as people screamed, shouted and cursed.

  The same look stared at her.

  She refused to back down or be properly quailed.

  Oh no, she wasn’t that little girl.

  Not the youngest princess with three hovering brothers.

  “I want to see your plan.”

  “I already—”

  “You gave us concepts. Three pages are insufficient for a deicide.”

  “That’s—”

  “Concepts of a plan. Not a plan. Only an absolute moron would go into something this significant with— quote-unquote— concepts of a plan. You’re better than this, Cal. C’mon, I know you want to succeed. Just trying isn’t enough.”

  “Opsec—”

  “Is good enough for all your other plans.”

  She crossed her arms even harder.

  “Jesus H. Christ! Rayna, you’re so— fine. Detailed plans before we leave.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll wake Nila up.” He sighed.

  “No. Let her dream.”

  “Then, I’ll let you go so you can see the rangers.”

  “I have time for that.”

  “I’m not feeling very conversationalist right now.”

  “That’s fine. I don’t mind standing here and watching. I can see Boy in your sculpture. So lifelike. I keep excepting him to crawl or toddle over here.” Her vision began to blur ever so slightly. “As long as you don’t mind me being here. Watching.”

  “No. No. Of course not. I don’t mind.” He let out a breath. “Thank you, Rayna. I appreciate it. You’re the best sister I have. I’m glad I voted to keep you instead of the other one.”

  “Ha. Ha.”

  That old joke.

  She watched her brother sculpt her nephew through eyes that got blurrier as time ticked on.

  Another World

  He knew nothing beyond his class and level.

  Footman.

  Level 27.

  Oh, and that he needed to follow the glowing blue arrows hovering in front of him.

  How he knew that part?

  He didn’t know.

  All there was to do was to step out of his tomb.

  Wait?

  What?

  He was in a tomb?

  How did he know that?

  And didn’t that mean he was dead?

  So, why was he thinking and moving.

  It did feel strange.

  The moving part.

  Numb.

  His limbs responded to his unconscious thoughts as far as he could tell, but they felt less of… well… everything.

  The tomb he had just stepped out of was a recess in a wall.

  And everything seemed to be made of ice.

  The distorted reflection didn’t trigger any memories as he poked and felt at his face.

  Did he always have thread and twine stitched in a grid-like pattern across his blue-ish flesh?

  Follow the arrows.

  A compulsion.

  So he did.

  They led him down long corridors and many turns.

  Empty icy tombs wherever he looked.

  Until—

  “You’re slow.”

  A pale woman stood on a platform behind a desk.

  How did he know what those things were?

  Platform and desk were made of dark, reflective stone shot through with veins of color like metallic blood.

  “I am?”

  The woman narrowed her pale blue eyes.

  Unlike him, the flesh of her face was unmarred.

  He hair moved, which was when he realized there appeared to be thin serpents hidden within the dark strands.

  “It really must be time for the next calamity if the dregs are getting activated,” she muttered. “Let’s get this done so I can get out of here.”

  “Er… okay?”

  “The last one wasn’t as addled.” She shook her head. “First question. Do you remember anything?”

  He thought about it.

  “No.”

  “Weak.” She pulled something from beneath her desk and placed it over her eyes. “Thought so. Level 27 Footman. You must’ve been brutally and easily killed in the last calamity. Why our Empress of the Frozen Eternities saved your corpse… you are a waste of her greatness.”

  His heart pulsed at the mention of the empress.

  It was then that he realized his heart hadn’t been beating much.

  The woman noticed his consternation.

  “Listen, on-boarding new revenants isn’t my department. Oh— that’s what you are. A revenant. You can’t see it, but it’s there. Level 1 Revenant. On-boarding will take you to a spire so you can.”

  “A revenant?”

  “Long story short. You died in the last calamity. Our Empress of the Frozen Eternities saved your corpse for some reason. She usually only takes exceptional specimens. Minimum Level 40 and such. And, yet, here you stand. So, there can’t be a mistake.” She stowed the glass lenses away and clapped her hands. “Revenant. Undead-ish. Dependent on death energy to remain you. Fail to maintain and you degrade into one of the mindless undead. At your level? Zombie. Perhaps a skeleton if you lose your meat parts. On the plus side, you can still level like you did when you were alive so long as you keep absorbing that death energy. Understand?”

  “I— what?”

  This was kind of a lot for him.

  He couldn’t remember anything.

  “Follow the arrows.” The woman dismissed him with a gesture.

  Much later he stood in front of a spire.

  He knew what one was.

  Even if he couldn’t remember ever stepping inside one, which he must’ve have done many times to level and gain or purchase things like Skills, gear and other things.

  The helpful revenants in the on-boarding department had said something about a crown they’d use on him to help with the memory issue.

  Thus, he stood with Tremulac the Flenser, who he was to shadow for the foreseeable future as he was brought up to speed on the Empress of the Frozen Eternities’ realm.

  “I’ll try to get you on the frontlines at one of the Rime Pits. They’re always popping out things to kill. That should level you up quick. 27 in Footman isn’t going to cut it. You’ll want to hit 35 at least if you want a chance to be a part of the upcoming calamity. Otherwise, you’re stuck here doing administrative work. Although, that drudgery is a lot better than being one of the few unfortunate sarmtards stuck in waste management. Praise the Empress! She believes us revenants are too valuable to waste on such things.”

  “So, uh, who does those things?”

  “Dumb undead. They do her will. Anything requires more skilled work gets one of the necromancers for more direct and finer control.”

  He had more questions, but was interrupted by the distortion in front of the luminescent spire.

  “Hey, Goretrand!” Tremulac cracked his bone-plated knuckles. “Pick up anything fun?”

  The hulking, green-skinned brute bared steel-clad lower tusks and sharp teeth. “I’ll show you in the arena!”

  “Alright, brother! I’ll look forward to flensing your face again!”

  They punched fists in passing.

  The sound made him wince.

  “See, that’s why you got to level up. Under 30 in a basic combat class won’t cut it. We’ll literally tear you apart. Sure, the stitchers can put you back together, but I hear it’s not good for one’s mentality. Although, from the looks of your face, you’ve already visited one the stitchers… a bad one at that.” Tremulac grinned. “Alright, rookie! Your turn. Get in the spire. When you come back we can plan out your progression.”

  “Right—”

  The space in front of the spire distorted.

  Tremulac cursed.

  “Goretrand!”

  “Balldrine shit! What is it?”

  “There’s nothing else on the schedule! It’s an invasion!” Tremulac growled the alarm into a sending stone. “Grab weapons, rookie! Looks like you’re going to get that leveling opportunity early!”

  The flenser threw him across the chamber to land near the weapons rack.

  Before he could even ponder which fit him best the distortion coalesced into two armored forms.

  Strangely armored.

  Seemed too flexible and in one smooth piece than the plate armor he somehow knew.

  One was dark gray, plain and flat, lacking the metallic shine he expected from plate.

  The other was painted in blues and yellows.

  Their faceplates were dark, hiding their faces.

  He wondered how one breathed without holes.

  Helms were difficult to breathe in from what he knew.

  Both invaders were tiny compared to the large Tremulac and the hulking Goretrand.

  “You dare invade the Frozen Eternities!” Tremulac roared. “Face the Empress’ Ten Thousand Fingers!”

  “Tremulac and Goretrand. You were terrible people in life and terrible people after death,” the one in blue and yellow said. “Destroy the brain.”

  The one in gray nodded, pulling out a cylindrical hilt without a blade.

  Yellow light flashed.

  Tremulac and Goretrand roared.

  You, however, were not. Don’t move from that spot if you want to stay alive… make that, if you want to keep existing.

  The words seemed to come from inside his ears.

  They conveyed a clear message and, despite the nearly overwhelming instinctive urge to defend the Empress of the Frozen Eternities, they helped him remain rooted to his spot as the clash of combat sounded through the chamber.

  Month Break.

  Spires will return in Mid-March with an anthology of characters/events I didn’t have space to cover with greater detail in Book 10 around the climactic battle.

  Book 11 will start sometime after that.

  Thank you for reading!