A hand patted Daniel on the shoulder a few times, bringing him back to the present. His fingers were curling inwards from how hard he was trying to drag something, anything, from the rift, but it didn’t respond to his tortured soul. He turned and saw the metal clad hand of Sigron and immediately feared what would appear, but it seemed he’d either suppressed that power or the illusory hands were too busy to indulge him.

  “It’s not working,” Daniel said, aware he was currently the most selfish person in existence. “He’s not…”

  “Neither of them followed us in here,” Willow offered. “If he was here in spirit, that could make a difference.”

  “Maybe.” Daniel took in a deep breath, mind still processing both the recent notifications and the failure of the rift. “There’s astral corruption here, it’s what’s affecting Sigron and where those monsters come from. I think the ‘astral projection’ part of their tags means they are a physical manifestation of the sickness. Probably rules out Tlara taking any over.” The shock runner couldn’t care less about that, apparently, and was instead staring intently at a bag Willow was holding. Someone else in line he was holding up.

  “How are you finding all of this out anyway?” Shuni asked. “I get the feeling I’m missing out on something. I mean, shit, you guys don’t have to tell me but-“

  “I was accidentally merged with the Thormundz Spoke,” Daniel said, throwing caution to the wind. He’d truly grown tired of keeping half the things about him secret, constantly on edge of not giving anything away that would either doom him or make Cloak mind wipe somebody. Shuni was mostly an unknown, but fuck it. “It just happened. I don’t know how or why, but it gives me the same kind of connection Soraso has, giving me info.”

  Not technically true, but good enough. She didn’t need to know everything. Neither did she seem to believe him. “Uh, suuure, you’re an Incarnate.”

  “Technically I’m not. Believe me, don’t, I don’t care. You saw me get stabbed with the impaler’s spear, and I’m not corrupted. The Spoke protected me.” Daniel tapped his chest for emphasis, glad it had healed enough that he hadn’t upset anything. “My connection told me I could cleanse the corruption in the rift, and I did, but it’s not working on Sigron.”

  “Maybe he should try touching it too,” Khiat suggested in a worried tone, self-conscious of the wound she’d taken to her side despite it being confirmed fine. When everyone looked at her, she held up her hands. “It’s just that the other purple stuff went towards it. That’s the corruption, right?”

  Daniel blinked, wondered why he hadn’t thought of that, and chalked it up to ongoing extreme emotional trauma. “It should be safe to touch,” he readily assured. “This place gave me control over it after I fixed the corruption.”

  “You’re really saying you are a Spoke?” Shuni asked slowly while Sigron began unlatching a glove. She seemed surprised, and also like she was waiting for everyone else to start laughing at her.

  “I’m saying there’s one in me,” Daniel emphasized. “Big difference. Look, blue, white, gold.” He then held up his phone. “Same colors. The rift’s mine now.”

  “So you knew this would all happen? It would explain why the Regent wanted you all so bad on this,” Shuni mused, though there was still doubt in her voice.

  “He doesn’t know and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone. Maybe he just heard about the stuff with Hammer and thought I was special, but that’s assuming he knew these rifts had to be cleansed in the first place. And no, I didn’t know anything about these ruins before we came here, other than it had some kind of connection to the Astral.” He gazed once more into the solid, bottomless pit of the rift. “I was so close. What if we have to clear all the corruption from here to make it safe for him?”

  He heard a soft exhalation and retired his wallowing. Sigron, now on one knee and holding a hand to the rift as if it were about to give him a sword, had a thin stream of purple flowing from him and into it. At first Daniel was worried this would reinfect the rift, but his phone quickly silenced those fears.

  Arcadian Administrative Alert

  >Astral corruption detected at Lectorum A4. One affected individual. Alerting security.

  >Error: Canceling alert. Affected individual has been cleansed. No further corruption detected in Lectorum A4.

  >Total Corruption Remaining: 99.8%

  “It’s working,” Daniel confirmed. “Good thinking Khiat.” He saw her arm in the next moment as it reached over him, tapping the rift just in case. He looked to the space too, but no purple flowed out. “Maybe everyone touch it, just to be sure.”

  “Grafting?” Khare asked him to the side while everyone else cleansed themselves.

  Daniel shook his head sadly. “It’s not the magic cure all we thought it was, Khare. It does seem like it gave me a map, and some other stuff, but it’s something the people here built. There’s a specific purpose for it.” He looked at the large gecko, which was growing more impatient. “I don’t even know if Tlara’s thing will work, but we’ll try it before I look into this Arcadian stuff more.”

  Willow was thinking the same thing, as she’d already started taking Tlara’s body out of the bag of holding and placing it by the rift. Shuni gasped slightly, seeing the decayed female avianoid. “Fuck. Are you sure she wants that body back?”

  Tlara hissed at her and circled the somewhat long body of the shock runner to block the Rogue from it. She was no doubt as desperate as Daniel was for the rift to make her wish come true, and he hated to admit she had a better chance. Here they had both pieces, and Willow to directly manipulate where Tlara’s soul was. In a way it was a good thing, a best case scenario to confirm this was possible. He just wished the circumstances could have favored Hunter.

  It seemed Willow was taking a few moments to prepare herself, so Daniel went to make sure Sigron was really alright. The Knight was breathing easier, and Daniel was glad to see no sign of any purple underneath the armor. “Hey, I wanted to mention this before, but I’ve got enough material to make you some new armor. Assuming you don’t mind wearing bone, at least,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’ll be enchanted. Even without using the armor Focus trick, it’ll hold up a lot better than unenchanted metal will, and it’ll self-repair.”

  Sigron seemed to consider it for a moment before shaking his head slowly and putting an arm over his chest in an odd way. It didn’t mean anything to Daniel, though then again his world and this one had proven inconsistent on whether or not the meaning of gestures crossed over.

  “I won’t make you pay for it or anything,” he assured the Knight, in case that was the concern. “You’ve more than earned it.” Sigron shook his head more firmly and pointed to one of the holes, Daniel’s eyes widening as he saw it begin to close. In fact, there wasn’t as much damage to Sigron’s armor as there had once been, and he could just make out one of those hands under another of the actively repairing dents. What the hell is this-

  “Daniel, I think I’m ready,” Willow said, cutting off his thoughts. “Tlara certainly is. If this rift is owned by you now, we should have you watching just in case.”

  “Right,” Daniel sighed, putting the omnihands out of his mind as he prepared himself to witness the resurrection of his arch nemesis.

  …

  That Willow felt nothing from the astral rift wasn’t exactly true. She still couldn’t see the flames indicating Hunter’s soul was nearby, and nothing from the multicolored square of light necessarily told her for certain if bringing Hunter back was possible. She could see Daniel was devastated from coming to the same conclusion and didn’t want to cloud the sky, especially when they were all still tired from a difficult, almost lethal fight.

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  In truth, the astral rift was the largest thing she’d ever seen. The closest comparison she had to having that make any sense, considering the rift itself was only five or so meters wide and 9 long, was that it was like Daniel’s bags of holding. The opening was small and set, but through it, she could see everything.

  Infinity. It wasn’t a concept most on the Octyrrum cared to learn about. People could conceive of it, but when would it come up in their lives? But here and now, through a portal of white, gold, and blue, Willow gazed upon a sea as wide as forever.

  To her great regret, that was all she could make out. She was sure there was more in there, but it was like seeing something from so high up it all blended together into a single color, or three in this case. Perhaps with more time, more levels, she could come back here find anything in existence by just taking a peek.

  That wasn’t her goal. No, she had to bring her sister back to life. The woman who had tormented her as a child, ridiculed her beliefs, and left the region without saying goodbye to her after accidentally awakening her class.

  Who had cried when their mother had died, even if she hadn’t wanted anyone to see it. A year later, Tlara 19 and Willow herself 11, a lordling had tried to use methods similar to Kahvin on Willow, only for Tlara to intervene. She’d been able to use their family’s Legacy at the time, but had instead almost beaten the man to death with just her talons.

  There were positives and negatives to her sister, and Willow knew most, including Tlara herself, focused on those negatives. But she was her sister, and it hadn’t taken the Knight’s strange power to show her how she’d felt. The bond they’d formed after finding each other amidst the ashes of their parents’ mistakes spoke to their relationship better than any words Willow could speak.

  How could she not bring her sister back?

  “I’ve tried putting her soul in her body before,” Willow said, more to manage expectations than anything else, though it did help to lay out the process before she fully went through with it. Determination or not, she was barely keeping herself from shaking from the nerves. “It didn’t work. We’re putting a lot on faith here.”

  “Shame we don’t have a Cleric then,” Shuni muttered distractedly, still digesting the Ironrush Ravager-level bomb Daniel had dropped on her.

  “This place does have a deep connection to the Astral.” Willow placed a hand on the surface, trying to understand what it was exactly. Some incredibly magical substance, no doubt. “Even if I am successful, we’ll need her to drink a healing potion so have one ready. I would like a Hand Cleric, but that’s the next best thing.”

  “Just so you’re aware,” Daniel said cautioningly, “If this works like Resurrection does, you might get your powers locked. Thomas is still suffering through his year and you’re dealing with a similar level of disparity.” Tlara snarled at him for throwing possible doubt her way, but he held his ground. “She needs to think about this.”

  “We still have to get out of here,” Willow returned cooly, keeping herself calm as best she could. “Besides the fact that I am going to do this regardless of the consequences, having Tlara in her real body will give us a better chance at escaping. I don’t know what would happen to Wisp if I am suppressed, but I can’t believe my class would put them in danger regardless of what happens to my powers.”

  The others accepted her assuredness, and she picked out respect in the eyes of Sigron. She perhaps had a bit more insight into the strange happenings with him, but had chosen to remain silent and respect his privacy.

  She turned her attention to Tlara’s body below her, wincing once more as she took in the lingering damage. The stomach was the worst bit, the wound as dramatic as Daniel’s had been during the fight. The difference was both her friend’s Regeneration, as well as the fact that he hadn’t had level disparity to endurance at the time. How Tlara had allowed one of her core attributes to fall behind was beyond her, though she’d gotten the feeling her sister had stopped advancing after realizing what Spinner was.

  Beyond the death blow and despite Spinner’s best attempts at preservation, there was also regular decay across the rest of the body. She didn’t believe there was anything too badly hurt for regular healing to fix, though she also hoped for her sister’s sake this process would restore her body. One of the eyes in particular looked like it was… going bad.

  At least Tlara likes people being uncomfortable when she looks at them, Willow supposed as she tried to think positively. “Tlara, we’re going to begin. Can you bring the head of the shock runner here?” she asked, holding the hand on her side opposite the body out. They’d centered Tlara’s body as best they could on the rift, and she was going to hold both the monster’s and her sister’s heads. She could have also placed a hand on the rift itself rather than one of the two, but seeing as she was sitting on it Willow thought that was connection enough.

  An expanse of everything below her, Willow felt as though she was soaring with a strong wind at her back.

  This was the right place, with the correct preparations. It was an intrinsic sense of well-being that told her this, a steadying of the bond between herself and Tlara that was the foundation for what they were about to attempt. On one thing she was certain: if this attempt succeeded, that bond would change.

  “One breath to take in all of the world,” Willow whispered, evoking an old avianoid adage her father had taught her. “Then, spread your wings.”

  …

  Tlara’s last couple of months had been, well, to put it lightly, a complete and utter fucking horror show. After fucking dying, she’d fucking woken up as a huge fucking… ok, deep breath. She’d woken up in Spinner’s body, sharing it with a sentient spirit that she’d spent weeks dreading the existence of.

  Needless to say she’d spent most of that time alternating between panicked, inaudible screaming as her soul rejected a state she could not escape from, and bouts of unconsciousness when her mind finally broke enough to rock itself to sleep.

  Spinner had driven for most of that time, Tlara incapable of bringing herself to control the completely foreign body, or fully comprehend all of its sensory input. She’d been on the verge of almost going completely insane when it had happened.

  Her sister had been useful for once in her godsdamn life. Leave it to the idiotic Spiritualist that was Willow to somehow awaken a bond that would, I mean-

  Not that I would ever fucking admit this, Tlara thought as her sister continued to drag out the last moment before she’d get her own body back, But she did save my… soul?

  She was still confused about what exactly would have happened if she’d continued to exist within Spinner, or floated off untethered into the Astral the few times she’d been outside a body. Nothing good.

  That damned hand. It had completely ruined any chance of her keeping the cool distance she liked between herself and anyone else after all of this was done. Shit, her sister was family, but what did that mean? The value of family was rotting on the fucking ground right in front of her.

  Still, fuck. I mean, even that idiot that used to have a ringcat’s been doing right by me. Just goes to show the world’s ending. Now, if anyone thought that Tlara would start bowing and shit to the rest of this clobbered together ‘team’ the moment she woke up, they might as well go find whatever it was that had broken her fucking wyvern and walk in front of it.

  Oh yeah, that. Real talk, all of this might have been worth it considering she was pretty sure she could still possess her monsters after this while having her living body act as a tether for her soul. Which would have been really nice, because flying around as her wyvern had a fucking thrill.

  Too bad some bitch shit of an avianoid who couldn’t fight off a little funny colored rock had to take off a leg and most of the tail. She couldn’t regrow that! Sure, the wyvern could still fly, but the balance would be off and it’s not like she’d ever get a chance to dominate another.

  Fuck. And these ruins all had monsters immune to domination apparently, so it really was just the worst day ever. What’s more-

  Tlara’s thoughts abruptly cut off as her perception of her surroundings vanished. Willow could pull her out of a monster whenever she wanted, but usually had the decency of asking first. When she was ‘stored’ in her sister it was like going to sleep, though she could still faintly feel Willow through the weird ass bond they were both stuck with.

  This was different though. Tlara almost panicked as she recognized being thrown into the Astral without so much as a guide rope, but, then, there was one. An old, familiar one she hadn’t felt since she’d taken five talons of motherly trauma to the gut.

  There was no real feeling to the Astral that she could compare to the living world, no sight of anything like that, but Tlara still characterized her attempts to get back to her body as an all out sprint and dive at the same time, while shoving aside any child or elderly person on the way. Well, ok, that was probably too self-effacing, but who wouldn’t if it was the difference between dying and-

  “LIVE.”

  The word was her world for a moment, though despite this she couldn’t have guessed who’d said it. Her soul rocked as if hit by a gale from every direction, pulled apart while crushed together. For one terrifying second she thought she had well as truly stepped off the ledge with her arms tied behind her back, before it all settled.

  Breath, ragged, forcing open lungs that had been closed too long, tearing. The infinitely squeamish sensation of sluggish sludge forced to move through veins that had once carried blood. Perhaps more horrors, but a bottle was pressed to her lips, and the tingling of healing suffused her body.

  Tlara could tell that while that fixed some of the problems, her shit was well and truly wrecked. She took one long second to open her eyes and try to figure out what was going on, then caught sight of her body as she looked down. What did she do next?

  Well, what anyone in her situation would do, naturally. She freaked the fuck out.