“How can anyone live beyond the end?” Mae scoffed.

“Don’t take it in the literal sense of the word, you little demon,” Yanko replied, swiping and missing. “He meant it in a hyperbolic sense.”

“Oh...” Mae shook, exaggerating the action. “Look at me. I’m old and know big words. What’s that? Oh! He’s just being hyperbolic. Why hyperbolic? Because I know the word.”

The group struggled to contain their laughter, their hands clamped over their mouths as tears of joy blurred their vision.

Yanko slapped his forehead and prepared to explain, but then thought better of it. Instead, he opened the book, knowing Mae would take him seriously.

“Right here,” he pointed, his eyes widening alongside Mae’s. The next paragraph discussed the topic he wanted to explain while unveiling deeper secrets. “This is common in any kingdom, as humans claim certain spots and, well, you-know-who claims the other regions. They fight amongst themselves while we wait to claim it all one day. The end is a place where no human can survive.”

“The Fea Forest,” the group muttered collectively.

“How are we still alive?” Rika asked.

“Perhaps because we’re close enough to the wall?” Wrilo speculated.

Yanko cleared his throat and continued. “I’m running out of time. The years are closing in, and I have made little progress in convincing the nobles within Richie Lane to accept the commoners of the Grimvale district. At least if they moved up, I could sneak the people of Endline within safer walls. It’s not much, but when they come for us—”

“—Who are THEY?” Mae interjected.

“You-know-who,” Yanko replied.

“And who is that?” Wrilo narrowed her eyes.

The group exchanged looks and shrugged.

Wrilo rubbed her temples. “Flip ahead.”

Yanko skimmed through the pages, finding only fragments of information. It seemed something significant was set to occur within four years, but only the highest-ranking officials were privy to the exact details.

“Did they take the Dark Year into account?” Rika questioned.

“Good point,” Wrilo acknowledged.

“It doesn’t say,” Yanko replied.

“What’s a Dark Year?” Mae inquired, not wanting to be left in the dark.

“You’ll be dead before the next one, so it won’t matter,” Wrilo remarked in a dismissive tone, causing Mae’s face to drain of color.

“Hey!” Rika protested, throwing a cushion at Wrilo.

“What? Oh, I meant before the next Dark Year,” Wrilo corrected herself, her tone colder than before.

“Ah!” Rika cleared her throat, considering how best to explain the phenomenon. “A Dark Year, also known as the Age Year or Dark Hour, occurs around once every seven or nine years. During this time, the planet experiences darkness, with the suns obscured except for their glowing edges, providing minimal light and a reminder of their presence. Time seems to slow down, making survival more challenging than usual. Crops cannot grow, forcing us to rely on stored rations.”

The sisters gaped in astonishment. Mae jabbed Yanko in the eyes with two fingers as he lunged at her, maintaining her bewildered expression.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Rika admitted, feeling embarrassed to share the full details.

“That’s why I said it doesn’t matter,” Wrilo remarked to the sisters. “None of us here have experienced two Dark Years, especially not anyone from Hope. So, ignore what you can’t control and seize whatever opportunities you can,” she advised, gesturing for Yanko to continue reading.

Stolen story; please report.

“He didn’t get to write more,” Yanko stated, showing the empty pages with trembling hands. “Why can’t we take this book out and show it to the others?”

“Because we suck,” the rest of the group sighed in unison, their expressions turning grim.

“We need to absorb as much as we can and store it in our heads before we depart,” Wrilo declared, spreading a large parchment on the table to record their findings. “And no, we’re not taking this book with us,” She puts the frown back on the sisters and Yanko’s face. “Writing it down will help us remember better.”

With a quill dipped in ink, Wrilo began sketching a mountain on the parchment. The group groaned as they reluctantly rose from their sofas, casting longing glances at them until Wrilo’s growl prompted them to move closer, their eyes still fixed on the sofas.

“Mountain,” Wrilo announced.

“Zanor, dual contract,” Rika contributed after Wrilo glared at her for a minute.

Wrilo noted down the information beside the mountain and continued, “Four sections, three walls, and four different groups.”

“Oblivious of each other. Mystery walls. Artifacts. And hierarchy,” each sister added.

Yanko gaped at Mae, who snickered. “I know big words too,” she teased.

“Grimvale district, Richie Lane, and Endline,” Yanko retorted with a smirk. “My memory is better than yours.”

“Damn it!” Wrilo cursed, drawing everyone’s attention, the quill poised at Grimvale district. “This means we haven’t infiltrated yet, have we?”

Realization dawned on the group as they exchanged bewildered looks.

“Nope,” Rika confirmed, shaking her head.

“There’s no way we can,” Wrilo lamented, sinking back onto her sofa, defeated.

The group cast frustrated glares at their distant sofas, then turned back to Wrilo.

“How do we go deeper?” Yanko’s question elicited a smile from Wrilo.

“Does that mean you’re all in?” she asked.

“For now,” Yanko replied with a smile.

“Good. Because we’ll need Ric for a proper infiltration,” Wrilo declared, bouncing off her sofa with determination.

The others smiled, not because they had a plan, but because Wrilo was forsaking the comfort of the sofa too. They hurried back to the Endline wall, standing out even more than when they had entered.

Mae spotted the massive door at the wall, alongside the exhausted zone mages beside it, and frowned. “Why is it so big?” she complained, darting out with the others. “Make it smaller.”

“It’s like you want to torture them,” Yanko retorted.

“Should I tell them to remove that and make only one?” Mae suggested.

“That’s even more work,” Rika remarked, lifting one of Claude’s legs, and squeezing Mae, who was within.

The guards fidgeted, glancing at and away from Claude. In the short time he was gone, he not only ran faster than Uvrodon but ran by strangling two of his legs. Uvrodon, who was too scared to attack Claude, now jabbed at his feet, cackling like an old man. Amongst the trio, only Bart acted normal. That is until he tripped, fell, and started running backward with a twisted neck.

“Artifact?” one guard questioned.

“Mad scientist experiment,” another added, and all the guards nodded in agreement.

———<>|*|<>———

Rika, Wrilo, and the people of Hope stared at the walls of Endline every day since their birth, imagining the life within them.

Yanko had once lived in the Grimvale district before he got kicked out. He traveled between kingdoms thanks to his previous profession as a clown. Although his group was never allowed to pique, only opening their eyes once inside the kingdom walls. He traversed through the so-called END under the protection of elites and stuck inside a box meant for one.

None of them ever broke their chains, wished for more, or saw the truth hidden in plain sight.

Their eyes traveled as one, witnessing the grandeur of the mountain and the towering walls for the first time. A contract with illusions was a terrifying power.

In the presence of such an opponent, one’s perception of reality can fade into a mere fantasy. They may forever remain trapped in a loop of self-doubt, even after winning the confrontation, never to experience reality.

The group stumbled upon the ‘Triad of Hell,’ Ric, Henzo, and Debbie, at their training grounds, their attention drawn to Ravi’s presence. The sisters tore free from the suit and rushed toward Ric, who seemed preoccupied by a spherical rock. Dodging their attempts to hug him with simple movements, Ric swayed in place as the sisters bounded around like demonic rabbits. Eventually, he grew annoyed and kicked the rabbits toward Henzo.

Surveying the group’s torn suits and the still-high sun, Ric sighed. “Spill,” he ordered, and the group began speaking over each other. “Stop,” Ric interrupted, raising his hand. “One at a time.”

Yanko, wanting to test Ric more than the others, posed a question instead of answering, his gaze shifting toward the magnificent mountain spewing lava and ice flakes. “Can any of you see it?”

Debbie frowned, Henzo checked the sisters for any anomalies, and Ravi eyed the mud wall in the distance. Ric caught Ravi’s twitching eye and looked up, answering nonchalantly, “The mountain? Yeah.”

The sisters gasped and cheered, Rika and Wirlo exchanging incredulous looks, while Yanko remained slack-jawed. “Now, spill,” Ric commanded.

As the group shared their findings, the others’ jaws dropped wider and wider. Except for Ric, of course—his demonic grin only widened.

“That can’t be,” Ravi interjected, making his presence known.

Everyone, even those who could see the towering mountain, harbored reservations until Ric broke the silence.

“Reality is a lie until you deem it otherwise.”

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