[Klaus's POV]
Klaus gently opened his palm, letting the small badger scurry onto the floor. For weeks, he had been obsessively refining his ability to grant permanent life to inanimate matter. Currently, this creature—born from stone and essence—had remained vital and breathing for nearly four hours.
He watched it move with a mimicry of life that would fool almost any observer. Suddenly, the badger's movements grew sluggish. Its fur began to wither, its tiny chest ceased its heaving, and it collapsed into a dry, grey corpse—reverting back into a simple, dormant piece of carved rock.
Klaus checked his internal clock. "Four hours for a creature of this mass," he muttered, rubbing his chin. "That's significant progress. The duration is scaling linearly with the size and complexity of the life form. I'm getting closer."
He turned his attention to a hand-drawn map spread across his desk, marked with strange nodes and intersecting lines. Since his Flaw, [Forbidden Truth], prevented him from uttering a single word about his visions, he had turned to meticulous self-analysis. He had to be his own investigator, architect, and executioner.
His finger traced one particular node—the vision of his brother's death.
In the shifting fragments of the future, he had seen Saint Cormac fall. He had seen the shadows of Sunny and Cassie looming over the event, a mysterious figure named Mordret pulling strings in the dark, and the final strike delivered by a Saint named Tyris.
'My initial instinct was to kill Sunny and Cassie immediately,' Klaus thought, his jaw tightening. 'But a direct assassination could backfire. They are the core of the Changing Star's cohort. If I strike them now, I invite the wrath of Nephis and the destruction of the delicate balance in the settlements.'
He needed to understand the "why." How did his brother, a Saint of the Great Clans, become entangled with a group of Sleepers falling through the debris of a crumbling world? He lacked the context. To find it, he had abandoned Genma's team and embedded himself with the Blood Emperor. Alista Tudor was the only variable strong enough to disrupt the vision he had seen.
A sharp, rhythmic knock sounded at the door. Klaus swept his maps into a hidden compartment with practiced speed. He opened the door to find Steve, the weary but resourceful man who ran the settlement's Memory Market.
"Did you find it?" Klaus asked without preamble.
Steve handed over a small, shimmering object. "It's a rare variation of a memory 'Ordinary Rock' Memory. It doesn't just store essence; it records audio and visual data. It's called a 'Visual Rock'. Since you've already paid the premium in shards, I trust this fits your... specific requirements."
Klaus summoned the Memory. It appeared in his hand as a large, porous stone riddled with multiple precise holes, resembling a piece of fossilized flute.
Klaus's lips curled into a dark smile. 'Time to record the future.'
[Alista's POV]
Alista had just finished a brief, silent consultation with Gwen. Even without words, her stance was clear: she did not trust the Changing Star. With the group's consensus reached, Alista headed directly to the lodge that served as the headquarters for Nephis's growing influence.
The lodge was teeming with activity—messengers, hopeful Sleepers, and local leaders looking for favor. Alista ignored them all, his presence parting the crowd like a shark in a school of minnows. He stopped in front of Sid, one of Nephis's most prominent lieutenants.
Sid looked up, his expression a mix of respect and wariness. "Blood Emperor. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Nephis is expecting your answer regarding the joint hunt."
"Tell Nephis that I will not be joining her for the expedition," Alista said, his voice cold and final.
Sid's brow furrowed in genuine surprise. "May I ask for a reason? This hunt is for the benefit of the entire settlement. Cooperation would ensure—"
"The reason is simple," Alista interrupted, turning on his heel. "I have other work to do. My time is not her resource to manage."
He left without leaving room for negotiation, his cloak billowing behind him.
Back in the solitude of his room, Alista emptied a pouch of Soul Shards onto his bed. They glowed with a faint, hypnotic light. He began the process of absorption, feeling the raw essence flood his system. He needed more power. To survive what was coming, he needed multiple cores.
He looked at his mental "to-do" list, a grim itinerary of the months to come:
Loot Weaver's Mask
Rescue the people with minimal casualties
Find a loophole within the Crimson Spire.
Find a way to dismantle Gunlaug's regime.
Ensure a safe path for Artemis
Alista frowned, the sheer weight of the tasks pressing down on him. 'Strength,' he thought. 'Everything requires more strength than I currently possess.'
[Artemis's POV]
Artemis walked through the Outer Settlements, her hand hovering near the hilt of her blade. Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts regarding Alista Tudor.
'So far, he hasn't shown any of the signs being related to his red haired version from the Bastion' she mused. 'Is it possible he's a lost twin? Or something entirely new? Either way, as a daughter of Valor, I must be prepared to kill him if he becomes a threat to the Clan's interests. I hate it... he feels like a man born to rule, much like my uncle, the Broken Sword. No... something tells me he might even surpass that entire generation.'
Her musings were cut short when she saw a white-clothed figure approaching. Nephis.
Artemis stopped and offered a neutral, practiced glance. "What do you want, Changing Star?"
"I want to discuss," Nephis said calmly.
Artemis gestured toward a more secluded corner of the ruins. Once they were alone, she crossed her arms. "Speak."
"Do you want to escape this place?" Nephis asked.
Artemis felt a jolt of suspicion. 'Did she find out about the Shards? They have an Oracle. Fine, let's see where she's going with this.'
"I do," Artemis replied simply.
"I have found a way to escape this hellhole," Nephis continued, her voice filled with an unnerving, absolute conviction. "I have the plan, and I am gathering the necessary resources. I will succeed, but I need your alliance. Specifically, I need you and your cohort."
Artemis looked at her, her interest piqued despite her skepticism. "And why should we follow you? Why not us leading the way?"
Nephis didn't hesitate. "Alista Tudor has a True Name, yes. But he lacks the ability to lead. I have united the Outer Settlements under one banner; he hides in the shadows. He has no plan to escape, and he is not a Legacy. He doesn't understand the scale of what we are fighting."
Artemis nearly laughed out loud. 'You have no idea,' she thought. 'He is leagues ahead of you in ways you can't even perceive yet.'
Nephis remained stoic, misinterpreting Artemis's silence. 'She will say yes eventually,' Nephis thought. 'She might be a Valor assassin, and her strength is too useful to lose. She's practical.'
"No," Artemis said, her voice clear. "This arrangement is not needed. We have our own path."
Nephis's silver eyes grew cold, a flash of irritation breaking her porcelain mask. Before she retort,
Artemis stepped past her, pausing only to offer a final bit of advice. "You might not know him yet, Nephis. But let me tell you one thing: the world does not revolve around the Changing Star anymore."
Artemis walked away without looking back, leaving Nephis standing alone in the dusty ruins.