Twenty-four hours passed, and we readied ourselves in silence. Trepidation lingered in the air, subtle but undeniable, weaving through the nervous pacing and last-minute preparations. Wish had vanished at some point during what we considered “night,” though we barely slept. Time here was strange—restless.

As the final seconds ticked away, the void above—the infinite black expanse we’d called a ceiling—began to descend. Slowly, like a curtain being drawn, darkness cascaded downward, swallowing shelves and racks of treasures as it moved.

I walked over to one of the walls, more out of ritual than purpose. The same wall that had once dazzled me, full of geometric shields and mastercrafted armors. I reached for a shield I’d always wanted, the same one that had caught my eye when I first arrived—and lifted it effortlessly off its pegs.

I stared at it in disbelief. My fingers curled around the grip. I flipped my watch open.

It counted as mine.

I turned around, mouth slack. “Oh my fucking gods.”

Screams erupted across the chamber.

Drek and Bjor spun around like panicked birds, colliding with the encroaching wall of void swallowing the space behind them. Tao, not missing a beat, cast buffs toward Ito using a flourish of his Infinitum, words glowing briefly on the page.

Ito dashed to a wall packed with daggers and knives, stuffing his arms with whatever he could reach before the black tide shoved him back toward the center. Kito sprinted toward shelves lined with enchanted clothing and masterwork textiles. She conjured a bubble with a muttered chant and began throwing garments into its floating hold as fast as she could.

From deep within the darkness, a laugh echoed. Warm. Familiar.

“You never asked!” Wish’s voice boomed, absolutely delighted.

I started laughing—couldn’t help it. The sheer absurdity of it all.

I slapped the bracelet on my wrist, and three bolts of neon lightning ignited across my right hand. Time slowed instantly, the world stuttering into syrupy motion. I turned just in time to see a door cut itself into reality—like space had been sliced open by a blade. Beyond it: deep forest, snow drifting in slow

My eyes scanned the walls, darting over shelves heavy with trinkets, vials, glowing orbs, even bizarre metal devices shaped like furnaces or miniature cauldrons.

What do I choose—what do I choose?!

Fatigue struck like a hammer. My mind spiraled, my focus fraying. I slapped the bracelet again, flooding myself with another charge.

Think—Jaeger—move!

“Stop thinking so hard,” Wish whispered into my ear.

I spun around—nothing. But when I turned my gaze back, I caught sight of a wall stacked with raw materials—steel, enchanted wood, rare alloys.

I dropped the rune, letting time resume. The darkness sped up. Snow inside the dimensional door fell like glass, cascading toward the chamber in a sweeping wave.

“Frog!” I shouted. No answer.

Shit.

I dashed to a rack of swords and grabbed a pair that looked like they were forged as twins, spinning on my heel to dash again. Another rune lit, slowing time as I zipped across the room in a crackle of blue static.

I slammed to a stop near dimensional storage gear—glittering bags, strange briefcases, even a reinforced metal pack shaped like a suitcase. I hooked my fingers around as many straps as I could manage, every tendon in my hands screaming as the weight pulled against me.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jax ran by me with both arms full of tools, beelining toward the slowly closing portal.

The darkness pushed closer. Drek turned toward the door—and was swept off his feet.

Potions clattered to the ground. Bottles shattered.

Glass broke. Alchemy bled. Chaos bloomed.

I spun at the sound of the explosion building, aura blooming with pressure. Liquids merged across the floor, and in that chaotic stew, a flash of unstable energy started to bloom just inches from Drek’s body. His hair whipped back as air pressure shifted, his skin rippling in shockwaves.

Move, damn it.

I dropped what I held, activated a rune, and surged forward—every step chewing away at what strength I had left. I reached Drek and yanked the energy off his body with another activation. Fueled by momentum, I flung him toward the door.

Tao was mid-spell, casting a ward to shield the chamber from the coming blast.

Another charge. My fingers sparked with burning sigil lines. I hooked Kito under her arm and rushed her toward the door. Her hovering bubble of salvaged loot zipped after her by instinct—tethered to her by some arcane loyalty.

Next. Who’s next.

Another spin of the bracelet.

I dashed for Bjor. He had a hand on a war hammer with a stone head nearly as wide as his torso. I grabbed his collar, braced with my feet, and launched him sliding toward the door.

Jax.

I spun toward him. His face was caught mid-shock, bathed in shifting magical colors from the volatile mess behind us.

I grabbed his shirt, wrapped it around the tools in his hands, crossed his arms over his chest and launched him through the air like a sack of equipment.

Another rune. One left.

I moved to run—

Pop.

Pain. Like tearing silk in reverse.

Blood vessels burst in my legs. I looked down, horrified, to see muscle rippling unnaturally—torn, bulging, protesting against the strain. The Boots of Mercury protected me from speed, but not the force of using it.

I limped toward Ito and Tao. Tao was channeling a final spell toward Ito, likely forming a protective barrier.

One last surge. I grabbed Tao, tossed him through the portal, and collapsed beside Ito. My legs gave out—too much strain.

Time resumed.

A shield erupted between us and the blast.

Ito glanced down at me, then at the items in his arms. Without a word, he tossed everything toward the door. He gripped me tight, cradled me, and started running.

Flames. Glass. Light. The potion explosion collided with the shield.

Ito’s hand snapped up—he kicked the pile of items I’d dropped toward the exit in one perfect, practiced motion. The blast roared. Fire and energy howled through the space, smashing into the barrier like a tidal wave of alchemical hell.

With a grunt, Ito turned. He planted his feet against the shield—

BOOM.

The concussive force launched us both like a bullet through the spatial tear.

I flung the wings of my cape open, trying to slow our spin. We entered a death spiral, wind and snow smashing against us.

A shimmering web of energy caught us like a net, flexing outward with the impact but holding steady. Behind us, a wave of fire burst through the portal and scorched the void.

Ito gripped my head gently and let out a heavy breath as he stood.

I reached up, gave a weak wave—

Then coughed up copper and passed out cold.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A raspberry-tasting coffee made its way down my throat and, with a sputter, my eyes shot open.

Kito had my head resting in her lap while Jax crouched over me, helping guide the healing potion down. The flavor was unexpected. Oddly comforting.

“You okay?” Kito asked as she gently shifted my head onto a bundle of cloth. “Your eyes were bloodshot, and you had breaks in your skin and muscle all over.”

I groaned, nodding. “Turns out, even though I abused it a bit back at the school, I never pushed the third level of lightning this hard before. My body didn’t like it.”

From nearby, Tao made a noise of agreement. “Sounds about right. Lightning is chaotic—it’s meant to be spent, not stored. Staying overcharged might’ve caused unpredictable reactions throughout your body. Lightning magical energy, unlike Lightning Qi, has its own kind of will. It's not obedient. You have to exert control over it.”

Ito chimed in almost immediately after. “We made out like bandits, Jaeger. Bandits.”

“My eyebrows are nearly singed off,” Drek grumbled, still rubbing soot off his face. “That doesn’t exactly look good on a cryomancer.”

Everyone laughed. The potion was already starting to do its work, flushing through my system, knitting damage back together. Despite the soreness, I smiled.

“What did we get?” I asked, sitting up slowly with a wince.

The scenery was different from before. The trees, the rocks, even the air—it all felt unlike anything I had once known. Not foreign, just... rearranged.

Everyone was smirking toward a nearby pile: tools, blades, enchanted clothing, a ridiculous number of spatial packs—and, bless whatever gods still listened—the shield I’d wanted. I crawled toward it, latched onto it like a lifeline, and held it to my chest.

“What does the rest of this stuff do?”

Tao wordlessly handed me the Infinitum, already open to a freshly recorded page. “I had got my hand on a sheet of magic that identifies everything within a five foot circle. We got it all to fit.”

---

Sentinel Shield: This circular shield can be thrown and commanded to float. Its weight-bearing capacity and speed is determined by the user’s physique. It can move independently. Can be blood bound.

Kinetic Buckler: Stores kinetic energy and releases it in a burst. Can be blood bound.

Mountain Breaker Hammer: Forged with a sliver of an Earth Plane elemental. It can alter its weight and form. Can be blood bound.

Sound Saber: Emits sound-wave attacks upon swing. Can be blood bound.

Darkness Dagger: Creates a dark mist field obscuring all vision but grants the wielder perfect clarity. Can be blood bound.

Crystal Blade: Charges with energy. When thrown, it either explodes into crystalline shrapnel or detonates on impact. Can be blood bound.

Light Blade: Uses stored energy to form a blade of pure light. Fueled by magical or Qi crystals. Can be blood bound.

Cloud Blade: This blade has the ability with a pull of a ring at the base of the pommel to extend from a dagger into a sword by sliding the blade along to lengthen its reach. Made of cloud steel. Can be blood bound.

Storm Blade: This blade has the ability with a pull of a ring at the base of the pommel to extend from a wide bladed dagger into a sword by sliding the blade along to lengthen its reach, revealing a serrated section. Made of Storm Steel. Can be blood bound.

Mechanical Wrench: Transforms into a wide variety of mechanical tools.

Mechanical Coupler: Serves as a binding point between two surfaces or mechanisms.

Firefly Gas Mask: Compresses breathable air into dimensional capsules. Can be modified to use air-aligned magical crystals.

Dress of the Saint: Blessed and reinforced by the master crafters of the ancient Eludrin Kingdom. Repels spirits, self-repairs, and cleans itself. Color changes by will. Flutters even without wind. Can be blood bound.

Skirt of the Sand Dancer: Crafted by the Vehemi tribe of the lost island. Grants silent movement, water-walking, and momentary levitation during jumps. Can be blood bound.

Dress Shoes of the Magnificent Dancer: Resizes to fit any wearer. Vastly improves agility, efficiency of motion, and overall dexterity. Can be blood bound.

Witch’s Hat: Originates from the Isia Witch Coven. Allows the user to transform into a small animal tied to their mind. Contains internal dimensional storage. Can be blood bound.

Witch’s Flying Broom: Levitates based on the user's energy input. Can be blood bound.

Gragys Tankard: Produces endless alcohol by converting nature-based and water magical energy.

Potion of Strength (Major): Temporarily increases strength by threefold.

Potion of Invisibility: Grants invisibility for one minute per milliliter consumed.

Pocket Sand: Generates endless sand by consuming earthen magical energy or small rocks. Can be blood bound.

Book of the Beyond: Spirits can communicate through written messages in its pages. Can be blood bound.

Book of the Rune Scribe Glyph Master: Allows inscriptions of spells, glyphs, or enchantments. Stored magic can be bookmarked and pulled as needed. Can be blood bound.

Dimensional Haversack: Several compartments, each with small internal dimensional pockets. Largest is 3x3x3 feet. Preserves non-living organic material. Can be blood bound.

Dimensional Bag: Flexible mouth expands to 2 feet wide. Interior cylinder extends 6 feet. Can be blood bound.

Echo Pack: Three long, narrow item slots in dimensional space. Center remains fixed to the user; side compartments hover open, holding floating items for quick access. Items are summoned by tap. Can be blood bound.

Dimensional Storage Ring: Holds 9 cubic feet of space. Can be blood bound.

---

“Who’s wearing the skirt?” Ito said, holding it up at eye level.

Kito snatched it from him without hesitation. “Not you, sister.”

“Couldn’t have grabbed other stuff?” Jax asked, scratching his head with visible confusion.

“I did,” Kito snapped, hands on hips. “But when I was being yeeted at mach-fucking-infinity, I could only grab so much. So shut the fuck up, Jax.”

Jax raised his hands in mock surrender. “Good boy,” Kito added, and for just a second, Jax looked like he’d been struck by a lightning spell.

Hell, we all did. None of us had ever seen that side of her before. Not quite like that.

Tao, as calmly as ever, took the Dress of the Saint back into his lap. “I’ll wear this,” he said, examining the fabric. “Looks no different from a male saint’s robe. It’ll serve as both outerwear and protection. As for the dancer’s shoes—I think they’d be best on Ito or Jaeger. Ito’s buffs make it redundant. Jaeger already has his boots.”

He glanced to Kito. “You should wear these. The shoes. And the skirt.”

Kito pursed her lips, then gave a small nod. “Okay.” She crouched to pick them up, inspecting both with quiet, practical intent.

Oh my fucking gods.

Ito’s voice pulled me back from the spiral of my analyzing thoughts.

“He had trouble guiding us through our rewards,” he said slowly, almost as if realizing it for the first time. “But I never thought about the fact that just meeting Wish—himself—was a reward. We assumed it was about what we did there. But maybe… his refusal to help us directly was part of the gift.”

He looked skyward, that distant gleam of insight resting across his expression. The rest of us nodded in agreement, that same unspoken understanding settling over our group like the calm after a storm.

“I agree,” Tao added without looking up, his eyes flicking between two tomes he was flipping through simultaneously.

I rolled my cigarette between my fingers and took a long drag, feeling the dry crackle in my throat break as the familiar smoke bloomed across my tongue. “I was a bit indecisive, even with far faster decision-making than usual, I won’t lie.” I let the smoke trail out in a dense cloud, like breath from the lungs of something older. “Regardless, we move forward. We still got some damned good

stuff. If the pattern holds, we’ve got seven days until the next boss—so three weeks from now, give or take, and we’re out of this shithole.”

“Nearly a month and we’ll finally be done with this,” Jax muttered with a slow nod, his voice edged with hard-earned relief.

“Dimensional packs?” Drek asked, holding up the varied collection we’d nabbed—bags, boxes, and kits, all vibrating with hidden potential.

“I’ll take the cylinder,” Bjor offered, gripping his new weapon with one hand while slicing a shallow cut into his finger with the other. As his blood sank into the stone-formed hammer, the weapon shimmered faintly and twisted in his grip—reconfiguring itself from a crushing maul into a greatsword with fluid, elegant precision. What had once been slow, jagged manipulation now flowed like water across steel.

Blood binding. From what I knew, it meant exclusivity—pure synchronization. Once a weapon was bound, it wouldn’t just work for others, it would actively reject them. Their energy would scatter. Their strikes would dull. The object would be theirs alone.

Drek tossed Bjor the drawstring bag and, after a quick inspection, Bjor tucked the greatsword inside. The moment it crossed the dimensional barrier, it was gone—as if it had never been there at all.

My eyes drifted to the others. No one argued. We all knew who should take what.

Ito picked up the storage ring and, with a quiet murmur, let a drop of blood fall on its polished band. His blade vanished into the ring in an instant. He grabbed the Kinetic Buckler too, nodding silently.

Wouldn’t make sense for me to carry two shields anyway.

Tao took the Dimensional Haversack and slid his tomes and the Infinitum into place. The weightless way it adjusted to him was almost too smooth—fitting for a caster who now basically had a library on his hip.

Bjor snagged the Pocket Sand, which was absurdly fitting. Laughable, yeah—but not when you remembered he was a geomancer. With his elemental bending, he could weaponize dirt like it owed him money.

Drek grabbed the Major Strength Potion, the Invisibility Potion, and the Endless Tankard, which had already begun dripping onto the ground despite being capped. He laughed and downed a mouthful, face twisting from the burn.

Kito made off with half the damned witch’s arsenal: the Skirt of the Sand Dancer, Dress Shoes of the Magnificent Dancer, the Witch’s Hat, and the Witch’s Flying Broom. I hadn’t even seen a broom until she pulled it out of the hat’s internal storage like a magician’s trick.

Jax, long overdue for a proper weapon, grabbed the Light Blade. Fitting—he’d been eying the thing from the second we saw it. With Mod Mechanism, that sword would become his sandbox. He also secured the Mechanical Wrench, Coupler, and Firefly Gas Mask.

As for the Sound Saber, Darkness Dagger, and Crystal Blade—nobody jumped for them, so Bjor hauled all three into his dimensional bag without a second thought.

“You should take the Echo Pack,” Ito said, his tone firm as he handed me the dark, almost matte-black backpack. “You're probably gonna have the most varied kit out of all of us. At least this’ll keep it organized. Gives a home for that cane, too. Take the Cloud blade and Storm blade as well. Could be good back ups and sound your style. Could teach you a thing but all sorts play differently.”

I turned the pack over in my hands. It had a single strap—meant to drape diagonally across the chest. When I slung it over my shoulder, it fit perfectly between the fall of my Cape of the Wanderer and the base of my spine. Sleek, efficient.

I still had Frog. When summoned, he was always there with his inner dimension, but he wasn’t a catch-all solution. I gave it a test—tried calling one of the spatial bags into Frog’s realm. It didn’t budge.

“Can you put dimensional bags inside others?” I asked aloud.

Tao nodded as he scribbled something into his book. “Yes, though it depends on the type. Qi-based rings tend to be more forgiving, especially higher-quality ones. Magic-based dimensional spaces, though... they get temperamental. Alignment matters. Material construction too.”

“Hm,” I grunted. “Guess I’ll just have to wear this one then.”

Truth be told, I didn’t mind. Something about having an organized kit, slotted and suspended mid-air within the Echo Pack, scratched that deep part of me that craved control—structure, even amidst the chaos.

And if nothing else… it looked damn good doing it.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We’d already lingered in Wish’s domain longer than any of us probably deserved, so we didn’t sit idle now that we’d returned to the waking madness. The old cabin, the fortified lodge—gone. Replaced by something else entirely. In its place was a structure that looked more like an archaeological dig site than any kind of battle-ready fort: a weathered husk of an office building, cobbled together from wood and stone, surrounded by trenches, scaffolding, and excavation tarps that fluttered against a breeze we couldn’t feel.

It was an odd sort of ruin—like someone had tried to catalog the modern world’s decay and filed it under "miscellaneous." Rusted typewriters sat beside water-powered hammer systems.

String lights dangled limp and lifeless over aged stone milling equipment. Piles of paperwork littered half-rotted desks. The eras blurred together here like some forgotten curator had given up halfway through organizing a museum.

“What do you all think?” I asked as I sifted through a stack of parchment on a cluttered desk, brushing dust away with a flick of my wrist. “Without the original structure, is this place now… theme-based?” The words tasted strange even as I spoke them.

I held up a paper covered in lines of text written in an unfamiliar language. Illegible. Non-patterned. Ancient, maybe. I set it back down and kept moving. No footprints in the dust. No claw marks on the walls. No bite gouges, no acidic corrosion. No signs at all of what kind of trial awaited us here. Just the stink of abandonment.

Outside, Tao and Ito were digging through a trench beside the main site, cataloging bones pulled from the layers of disturbed dirt.

“Seems to be some kind of bird,” Drek offered, peering into the hole Bjor was excavating with his affinity—thousands of pounds of soil and stone lifted casually, deposited into a growing pile that was quickly forming a barricade wall.

“I swear that’s just a chicken someone finished eating and tossed into a pit,” Tao called out dryly.

Bjor let out a deep laugh. Drek scratched the back of his head and turned away without a word.

I stepped away from the window and moved through the building’s dusty halls with the same rhythm I’d followed back in the old city—eyes sharp, instincts sharper. I tugged books from shelves, tapped the bases of lamps, traced under desks with the flat of my palm. Pulled wires where I could. Nearly yanked down a whole ceiling light thinking it was a lever.

Nothing. Just ghosts and silence.

“This might be how the other fountains are by default,” I murmured to myself. “Maybe all of this—the trial zones, the structures—they’re all curated. We fix them. That’s the point.”

Maybe I wasn’t chosen. Maybe I was just dumped in here as a tool to solve godly maintenance issues. Is that what I wanted now? Freedom from divine direction?

No. No, the gods gave me a purpose. Their directions kept me alive. Gave me tools I never would’ve dreamed of before all this—the shield I now wore, the chain blade at my hip, the adaptability I carried with me. Even my bond with Frog. I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t powerless. That had to mean something.

Still, as I turned toward the front door, the floor flexed beneath my boots. A plank bowed inward with a muffled creak but didn’t crack. Several millimeters down, just enough to get my attention.

“Carpet,” I muttered. “Fucking carpets.”

I bent down and peeled back the large welcome mat that had been laid out like a dirt trap from the excavation yard outside. Underneath were floorboards stained a different color—unnaturally so. Slightly raised grain. I didn’t waste time.

I turned back and shouted over my shoulder, “Everyone, over here. Found something.”

Only a moron explores a hidden basement alone.

Ito arrived first, sword drawn. Tao followed, already murmuring a low incantation, the air around him buzzing with magic. Kito had a shield glyph ready at her palm, glowing faintly as she prepared for impact.

“What is it?” Ito asked.

“Don’t know yet,” I replied, crouched over the boards. Drek and Bjor dropped to their knees and began loosening the wood with careful hands. I pulled my pistol, the comforting weight of it reassuring, and aimed at the dark opening as the planks came free.

The boards gave way like gnarled teeth, revealing a ladder descending into shadow.

The lights flickered. Somewhere offscreen, Jax had apparently found the power systems and brought them to life. I pulled out the Dragon Lance Lighter and tapped into its minor Dao of Light, capturing a bulb’s glow and casting a soft orb down into the void.

Thirty feet, maybe more, before the tunnel curved out of view.

I swapped the lighter’s mode to flame and primed my bracelet with two lightning runes—one for reaction, one for cognition. The ache that followed was tolerable. Manageable. Not the skull-cracking backlash I’d feared.

“Let’s think ahead for once,” I muttered. “Not taking this ladder with metal armor on.”

I summoned Frog, who hopped onto my shoulder without question, and we both descended together. As soon as we reached the bottom, I had Frog deposit a lump of steel, which I absorbed into myself with a touch. Felt smoother this time. Familiar.

Shield up front, pistol aimed around the edge—basic technique, nothing fancy, but it got the job done. We crept forward down the carved-stone corridor.

That’s when I saw the

The flames burned unnaturally—no smoke, no scent, just bone-white fuel surrounded by licks of red and orange. The bones didn’t crack or pop. They were pristine. Too pristine.

Magic.

I felt a shift behind me and turned to find Ito moving up beside me, blade tilted forward in a silent promise. The tunnel was just wide enough for the two of us if we didn’t swing wide.

After a few hundred feet, I noticed it—we were sloping downward. Not sharply, but steadily enough that the grooves in the stone walls channeled beads of moisture in trickling streams.

Eventually, the tunnel opened into a wide, hollow space. At the far end stood a door—thirty feet tall, maybe more. Made of blackened wood, lined with thick iron bands and hinges the size of my torso. Carvings adorned the surrounding stone: people digging, descending, fighting. Demons. It was a story told in relief.

“Door to hell?” Ito muttered.

“Probably,” I said, without hesitation.

“Tao?” Kito asked, stepping into the center of the chamber.

“On it.” He moved forward, hands already weaving golden runes in the air. They drifted down like smoke and pressed against the door, then faded into nothing.

Tao frowned. “No active evil presence. Or it’s masked. Or dormant. Or… the door just doesn’t care.”

“Any sign of life beyond it?” I asked.

Bjor crouched, pressed his hand to the ground. “Nothing. The earth on the other side’s hollow, but I can’t sense any movement. Not even worms.”

So much for his Eye of the Mountain advantage.

I walked up to the door, poked it with my pinky. Nothing. Leaned in. Still nothing. Couldn’t budge it, but it was real. Not an illusion.

“Do we wait? Try explosives? Turn back and get more info?” I asked, glancing to the group huddled up behind me.

Ito waved me over and we circled up.

“Could be bad,” Bjor muttered, pulling out his weapon.

“Could be,” Kito echoed, her eyes locked on the carvings.

All eyes turned to Ito—who immediately passed the buck. “Nope. My brother’s the planner. We agreed on that before the third boss fight.”

Tao exhaled and stepped forward. “Fine. I sensed necromantic traces in those braziers. Not active corruption, but something... lingering. Let me try something.”

He reached into his haversack and pulled out a tome bound in what looked like scaled hide. Its pages were thick and sun-tanned, like parchment left too long in strong tea. A golden-tipped quill was tucked inside the spine. I had remembered something about a book of the dead or something from the list I had read.

Tao read a few lines, then stabbed his palm and pressed the bleeding hand to the first page. The blood soaked in, vanished. He wrote three rules in his own blood:

1. You must speak the truth, as you define it.

2. You may ask a question only after I ask two.

3. You will only respond to the bearer of this book.

Then, without fanfare, he flipped the page and tossed the quill into the brazier.

Instead of burning, it rose.

“Spirits dwell in these bones,” Tao said quietly. “I can feel them now.”

The quill trembled, twitching, then dipped slowly and began to scrawl shaky letters.

None of us could read it.

“Shit, it doesn’t speak our language.” Ito sighed, peering over Tao’s shoulder.

“Could be a dead dialect,” Tao muttered.

The quill paused, then wrote two words:

I do.

Tao blinked. “Do you understand our language?”

Yes. It is an ancient language… I know of it.

I summoned Frog and sent him off toward the giant door in the far distance. “Watch that. Jump back if anything moves.”

He ribbited once in grim acknowledgment and hopped off into the dark.

The spirit asked a question before we could.

What do you seek here?

Tao raised his voice slightly. “We seek knowledge of this place—do you know what it is?”

I remember… this place was once for knowledge. Buried knowledge. We dug too deep. Beneath the soil was a temple. A war. Bones of battle, bones of demons. Every ten feet, another age, another war.

Tao’s brow furrowed. “Then how did you… come to exist here? Bound to this flame?”

Those who discovered the truth were promoted, celebrated. Told they were going on to greater things… but they vanished. Always the next night. I was told I had done well… I was their bioarcheologist. I awoke in this brazier the next morning. Trapped. Tired. Always warm. Never free.

A pause.

Are you here to release us?

“If I can,” Tao said. “Do you know how?”

No.

“Do you know what’s behind the door?”

No.

…

…

But I hear it sometimes. Will you survive it?