Chapter 23

What's the Point of Worshipping Dead Gods?

The narrow streets of the undercity twisted like veins. They pulled up to Selinas and Arvil’s workshop, a dimly lit space tucked between an old repair yard and a scrapyard. This was where the real work began.

Inside, the space was a mess of glowing monitors, tangled wires, and the hum of active machinery. Shelves stacked high with gutted terminals and half-built drones loomed over a narrow workbench where a woman sat, her back hunched as she peered through a magnifying lens. Despite the mess, there was clearly a lot of high value equipment in here. Maia could tell from a glance. Salinas also had a large security guy standing by her door—presumably her brother, Arvil.

Selinas didn’t look up immediately, too engrossed in the delicate circuitry she was fusing together with a steady hand. Her fingers were thin and nimble, a few of them wrapped with grease-stained bandages. Her dark hair was tied back in a messy braid, streaked with silver.. When she finally glanced up, her piercing gaze fixed on Matthias first, then flicked briefly to Maia.

“Matthias,” Selinas said, her voice low and gravelly, a note of recognition there but no warmth. “Didn’t expect to see you back here. Last I heard, you’d vanished off the map.”

“Life takes you strange places,” Matthias replied, his tone measured but polite. He gestured to the small box in his hand—the Verdant archive. “Thought you might be able to help us with this.”

Selinas leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms and regarding him with a calculating look. “Depends. You’ve got shells to spare? This doesn’t look like your run-of-the-mill salvage.”

“What is all this stuff?” Maia stepped forward, curiosity sparking in her eyes as she scanned the strange machinery surrounding Selinas.

Selinas smirked but didn’t answer, her attention shifting back to Matthias. “Let’s talk price first. Whatever that thing is, it’s big. And big means expensive.”

“You’ll get your shells.” Matthias sighed, already digging into his bag.

“That’s a good boy, you’ve changed a lot from that stupid boy who wouldn’t part with a single shell.” Selinas said, a toothy grin spreading across her face. She snatched the archive from his hand, holding it up to the light. “Let’s see what secrets this little box is hiding.”

Selinas spun her chair towards a cluttered workstation, brushing aside a jumble of cables to make room. She pulled over a sleek-looking terminal, its screen flickering to life. With a practiced motion, she plugged the archive into a port and began typing commands. The screen filled with cascading lines of text, most of it indecipherable to Maia’s untrained eyes.

But the Arcanum System began creating summaries for her in the corner of her vision. She dismissed them for now. She wasn’t that interested in those just yet.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here,” Selinas muttered to herself, her fingers dancing over the keyboard. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the terminal beeped sharply, and a new window opened—encrypted data scrolling across the display.

“Hah!” Selinas exclaimed. “Encryption’s tough, but I’ve cracked tougher. This won’t be much work for me. I’ve gotten into the Verdant henhouse so many times over the years, this lock won’t be much to pick.”

“How long?” Matthias leaned over her shoulder, his expression unreadable.

“Relax, big guy. Let me work,” Selinas shot back, already narrowing her focus on the screen. “I’ve got some Verdant keys from other jobs. Let’s see if any of them fit.”

Maia shifted her weight uneasily, her curiosity mounting as she watched lines of code flicker across the screen. Selinas worked with startling efficiency, and soon enough, fragmented pieces of data began to take form—schematics, lists of coordinates, snippets of reports written in the same strange Verdant language Maia had seen on her overlays before.

“By the Archons…” Selinas froze suddenly, her eyes widening as a particular file flashed across the terminal.

“What?” Matthias asked sharply.

“This—this is… classified doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Selinas’ voice was laced with awe, her face illuminated by the faint glow of the screen. “I’m seeing references to something called the Arcanum System. Thought it was just a myth.”

“The Arcanum system?” Maia piped.

Selinas glanced back at her, surprised. “Yeah. Rumor has it the Verdant scravs used it. Supposedly some kind of tool that allowed them to see beyond the normal scope of human perception. But nobody’s ever found real evidence it even exists.”

“Maia,” he said, his tone low and commanding, “go wait in the Dame.”

“What?” Maia snapped, incredulous. “I’m not going anywhere. I have questions.”

“Go.” His voice was sharper this time, shutting down her protest.

Selinas raised an eyebrow, clearly uncomfortable with the tension. “Hey, let’s not make this awkward. You can wait outside, kid. This’ll take a while anyway.”

“I’m not a child,” Maia bit out, glaring at her father. “You can’t just—”

“Now,” Matthias growled, his eyes locking onto hers with a sternness that left no further room for argument. Maia hesitated, fists clenching, but his stare forced her to back down.

Selinas’ security—the burly individual who’d been lurking near the door—stepped forward, gesturing for Maia to leave. She didn’t resist, her jaw tight with anger as she shot one last glare at her father before storming out.

Maia slumped into the Dame's driver’s seat, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary. She pressed her palms to her forehead, groaning in frustration. Her father had practically shoved her out of Selinas' office like she was some clueless kid. Again.

She stared at the worn steering wheel for a long moment, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. It wasn’t like she didn’t understand what was going on. She wasn’t stupid. The Verdant data cache, the Fatebonds, the Anchors—whatever they were mixed up in—it mattered to her too. But her father treated her like an outsider in her own life.

The silence in the truck was suffocating. With a huff, Maia reached for the audio player, scrolling through the tracks until she landed on one she liked.

[Now playing: Searching for Friends]

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

The familiar tune filled the cab. For a brief moment, the music calmed her, the notes resonating in a way that always felt oddly personal.

Then her mind wandered back to Selinas, and the anger surged anew. She jabbed the volume button, turning the music down to a faint background noise. Her overlays flickered into her vision, and she toggled through the data she’d managed to skim from Selinas’ screen before Matthias had pushed her out.

Lines of text scrolled past her eyes, accompanied by technical diagrams and scattered notes. Most of it was over her head—dense, cryptic jargon written for people far more experienced in Verdant technology than she was. But certain phrases stood out, tinged with a sinister undertone.

“Synthetic replication of Archonic Fatebond mechanisms… incomplete understanding of divine energy principles.”

“High-level approval despite limitations… Adaptation of Archon Fatebond Anchors to serve Verdant objectives… Approval granted for prototype of hijacked Fatebond Anchors.”

“Instability in the Verdant Fatebond matrix… unverified long-term consequences for bonded individuals.”

Maia frowned, her anger briefly replaced by curiosity. The diagrams depicted something that looked eerily familiar—sprawling networks of energy connecting to nodes marked as “Anchors.” Her overlays helpfully tagged them with a faint orange glow, similar to the way they had when she’d found the Anchor in the military base.

One of the files looked to be a set of coordinates. Her Arcanum System kindly overlaid these points on a region map for her. It appeared to be all of the Fatebond Anchor points the Verdant discovered during their invasion. She noted Cassix Station only a few days out from Lindrao, marked with an orange pulse.

The matrix network all seemed to lead to a focal point in the middle of the wastes. What the hell was that? Where even is that?

The more she read, the more unsettled she became. The text seemed to confirm what she’d always suspected. Fatebonds weren’t some divine mandate. They were engineered—by the Archons, and then twisted further by the Verdant. Whatever they were, they weren’t natural.

But none of this felt like it mattered to her right now. The diagrams, the notes, the cryptic references to instability—it was all just noise. What she wanted, more than anything, was to be back in Selinas’ office, demanding answers.

A movement on the street outside caught her attention. She looked up, her heart skipping a beat as she spotted a figure standing just beyond the glow of an algae-lamp.

There was no mistaking the woman.

It was Kallira.

Maia bolted upright, her heart pounding. She pressed her face against the window for a better look, but Kallira was already moving, slipping further into the shadows.

Without thinking, Maia threw open the door and jumped out of the Dame.

“Hey!” she called, her voice sharp. But Kallira didn’t stop. She disappeared into the crowd.

Maia hesitated for a split second before her impulsiveness got the better of her. She took off down the street, weaving through clusters of people as she followed the fleeting glimpses of Kallira’s coat. Whatever this was, she was going to get answers—whether her father liked it or not.

“Wait!” Maia called out, chasing the woman down the side alley onto a busy street. She called out again but her voice barely cut through the noise of the crowd. She wasn’t going to let Kallira slip away.

She ducked under a low-hanging string of lanterns, her overlays flickering with faint notifications as she passed unfamiliar flora growing in cracks and crevices. None of that mattered now. Her attention was locked entirely on the figure ahead, moving with purpose, as if leading her somewhere.

Kallira’s doing this on purpose, Maia thought, the realization settling in her stomach like a stone. But why? If she wanted to talk, why not just stop? Why play this game of cat and mouse?

The crowd thinned as Maia turned into a narrower alley. The algae-lamps here were sparse, casting uneven patches of pale green light. The shadows seemed to stretch and twist unnaturally, making the alley feel longer than it was.

“Kallira!” she called again, her voice echoing off the stone walls.

No response.

Her overlays pulsed faintly, picking up something unusual. A faint energy signature—not as strong as the Fatebond Anchor back at the military base, but similar in its strangeness. It was ahead, in the same direction Kallira had gone. Maia hesitated, a shiver running down her spine. This felt too deliberate.

She pressed forward, her fingers twitching at her sides. The alley opened into a small, dimly lit courtyard. It was quiet, unnervingly so. The faint energy signature was stronger here, her overlays marking it as a point of interest just ahead.

And there, standing at the edge of the courtyard, was Kallira. She turned slowly, her coat flaring slightly with the movement, and her piercing eyes met Maia’s. A faint smirk tugged at her lips, as if she’d been expecting her all along.

“You’re persistent,” Kallira said. She didn’t move closer, just stood there. “I wasn’t sure you’d follow.”

“What are you doing here?” Maia demanded. She wasn’t in the mood for games, not after everything. “Why have you been following us?”

“You have questions,” Kallira tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “I have answers. But not here.” She gestured with a slight nod toward the far side of the courtyard. “Come.”

“Why should I trust you?” Maia’s hands clenched at her sides. She wasn’t about to let herself be led into some kind of trap.

“If I wanted to hurt you, Maia,” Kallira’s smirk widened, just a fraction. “You wouldn’t be standing here right now. And you know it.”

Kallira wasn’t wrong. She could have left her to that Hollow creature back at Cassix Station but she hadn’t. Her father’s warnings, his distrust, still pressed heavily on her mind. This was reckless, and she knew it. But the chance for answers—real answers—was too tempting to ignore.

“Alright,” Maia nodded. “Lead the way.”

Maia kept close behind Kallira as she guided her through the twisting alleys of the undercity Old Quarter. The cobbled streets grew narrower, the buildings taller, their facades worn and crumbling with age. Vines and moss clung to stone walls, and broken algae-lamps flickered dimly.

Kallira hadn’t said a word in over twenty minutes, leading Maia deeper into the labyrinthine district. Her silence was unsettling, but Maia refused to back down now. Whatever this was, wherever they were going, she was determined to see it through.

They rounded a corner, and suddenly the alley opened into a wide courtyard. At its center loomed a structure unlike anything Maia had ever seen before. The Archon Temple stood tall but battered, its once-majestic pillars cracked, and its grand entrance darkened by decades of grime. Intricate carvings adorned the stone walls—depictions of the Archons in their prime, the one that the elderly woman had described with the eagle head was depicted amongst others.

Her overlays flickered to life unbidden, scanning her surroundings and flooding her vision with faint warnings.

Arcanum System Alert: High-energy signatures detected.

Maia froze. What did that mean?

“What is this place?” she asked, her unease bubbling into outright fear.

“An old Archon Temple,” she said simply, stepping forward toward the heavy stone doors. Kallira glanced back at her, her expression calm, almost amused. “Not many of these left standing in Lindrao. Most were abandoned after the Fall. What’s the point of worshipping dead gods, right?”

“Why bring me here?” Maia demanded, her voice rising.

Kallira didn’t answer, only pushed open the temple doors with ease, revealing a cavernous interior. The air inside was cool, carrying the faint scent of old incense. Flickering torches lined the walls, their flames casting eerie shadows across faded murals.

At the center of the temple stood a group of people. They turned as Kallira entered, their gazes curious and assessing. Some wore the simple robes of priests, but others were clad in more practical, rugged gear—mercenaries, scavengers, fighters. Dangerous-looking people.

Maia’s overlays flared again.

Arcanum System Alert: High-energy entity proximity. Scravs confirmed. Multiple sources.

Her breath hitched. These people… they were all scravs.

“Relax,” Kallira said without looking back, her voice carrying a calm reassurance that only made Maia’s unease grow. “They’re not going to hurt you.”

Maia’s instincts screamed at her to run, but her feet stayed rooted. She felt the faint hum of her Phase Evade ability, like an engine revving up in the pit of her stomach, ready to ignite at the first sign of danger.

“What do you want from me?” Maia asked, her voice firmer now, her fear giving way to defiance.

Kallira finally stopped and turned to face her fully. “I brought you here because you need to see the truth for yourself. Your father won’t tell you. But you’re not like him, Maia. You’re something else entirely. And you need to understand the truth.”

Maia’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “What truth?”

“Come,” Kallira’s grinned. “Let me show you.”