A Hotspot Tracker, it turns out, does exactly what the Interface says it does — it highlights areas of interest. It's anything from potential raid locations to places that hold boss monsters; sometimes, there are even puzzles that are just built into the world.

"It sounds like they're using the whole planet as a playground," I say, my lip curling slightly in distaste, and Ahkelios inclines his head in agreement. "Any idea if there are any particularly valuable hotspots?"

"I don't remember my time on Hestia in that much detail," Ahkelios says, shaking his head. "And the Integrators have probably moved stuff around. I'm sure you'll find something useful if you look, though! The hotspots always have something valuable."

"I suppose." I let out a sigh, letting my thoughts wander for a second. I still need to find the exit. I have no plans on going through the exit just yet, but it'd be better to know where it is, just in case.

And I need to make my way back to the Cliffside.

I let myself linger in the clearing, despite my thoughts. I need a bit of a respite from everything that's been happening — ten deaths in a row isn't exactly pleasant for me, especially when I've spent most of the time running, training, or dying horribly one way or the other.

A little bit of practice won't hurt, though. I let Temporal Fragment run in the background, giving Ahkelios the opportunity to investigate the clearing. He doesn't remember much about the planet, it seems, and so everything is fascinating to him — although I notice he gives his grave a wide berth.

I don't blame him. I would have, too.

"This is fascinating," Ahkelios tells me after he's spent a solid half-hour dissecting a variety of plants. I have no idea what he's doing, but it seems like he has some rudimentary Firmament control still — I can sense the little trickle of Firmament as it scans over each plant. "These plants have much deeper roots than normal. I'd go as far as to say they might be connected to one another."

I open an eye from where I've been leaning against a tree, resting, and glance at the scattered mess of petals in front of Ahkelios. "The flowers?" I ask.

"Everything," he declares. "It might all be one plant! Isn't that fascinating?"

"Are you... sure?" I ask carefully. It doesn't seem all that likely to me.

"Well, no," Ahkelios admits, frowning and putting a clawed hand to his chin. "It might just be these flowers."

I can't help but chuckle. "It would be pretty cool if they were all just a massive plant," I say. Not just to humor him, either. He's obviously got some knowledge I don't have, and it's nice to think about something that's not the Integrators or fighting. I can afford a bit of time to myself. "Do you have any ideas how something like that might happen?"

"Do I!" Ahkelios instantly cheers up again. A moment later he's started to regale me with an in-depth theory that he appears to have constructed in an instant. I stop being able to follow him after about two sentences, but I let him prattle on anyway, a small smile gracing my expression. He reminds me a little of an old friend and one of my old professors, rolled together into one.

Not that that helps me understand any of what he's saying.

"I'll be honest, I didn't understand most of that," I admit once he's done, and I feel the bond between us flicker with an emotion that I'm pretty sure is equivalent to a pout.

"You should've said something earlier!" he complains. "I would've simplified it."

"You seemed like you were having fun."

"Bah!" He points a claw at me. "You call me out when you need me."

And then he reaches out and cuts off the connection to Temporal Fragment himself, doing the equivalent of ending the skill early. I blink.

I hadn't known he could do that. It's good to know, I suppose.

I stare at the sky, not bothering to call out Ahkelios again. I haven't spoken to him for very long, but I've shared a bit of his mind, and I don't think he's actually angry at me. Even incomplete as he is, his enthusiasm is genuine, and I can sense that he appreciates the opportunity to talk about something he's probably not had a chance to talk about for...

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

...Well, for however long he was trapped in his loops. Not that he's told me how long that was.

He might not even remember.

The sun hangs in the sky. It's nearly noon, I realize; a solid six hours out from the start of the loop, checking the Interface. Hestia's day-night cycle seems to be roughly in line with Earth's, which is convenient. I'm not sure I want to deal with interplanetary jetlag.

Of course, for all I know, Hestia's going to throw me for a loop as soon as night arrives. It's not like I've actually survived a whole day here yet.

I grumble and force myself to my feet.

I've been putting off Cliffside for long enough. Time to find Mari... and hopefully, Tarin.

I make sure to gather a few fruits first to settle my growing thirst, and then set off, making sure to avoid any hotspots on the map on the way. I'll check them out eventually, but... not right now.

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

The village is oddly quiet when I arrive, which is the first sign that something's wrong. I feel my heart tighten in my chest — for all my paranoia about permanent consequences, I've been telling myself that there's no real reason to fear.

But there is, really. I've spoken to Ahkelios about it, and his words still ring in my ears.

"The Integrators do pretty much whatever they want. If you give them an excuse, they'll take it. This is a willpower Trial, Ethan, not an ordinary time loop."

Which is about in line with my expectations, unfortunately.

Still, I don't let the spark of hope fade. It's not like there are mourning parades in the village or anything. It's quiet, but it was quiet the first time I arrived here, too; that time, Tarin found me as I was making my way into the village, and it's still a solid five hours before then. For all I know, he's still sleeping.

I make my way towards his hut, and then I know for sure that something is wrong.

Mari's outside, talking in quiet whispers to a crow I don't recognize; judging by her getup, she's a doctor of some sort. All sorts of herbs and potions are strapped to an inexplicably dirty apron. Mari herself doesn't look like she's grieving, but there's definite worry in her eyes.

It takes her about a second to spot me, of course, and I feel the Firmament suddenly flare up around her. I stop in my tracks and hold up my hands.

"I'm a friend," I say.

Mari narrows her eyes. "Trialgoer?"

"Yes." It's not like lying will do me any good. "Did something happen to Tarin?"

Firmament floods into her limbs, and I wince. Bad choice of words. She's in front of me so quickly that Mental Acceleration can barely keep up, a wing held at my throat and talons curled into my arm, hard enough that I can practically feel my bones creaking.

I've seen that wing cut off a harpy's head before, and that was while her Firmament was suppressed.

I'd helped her do that, technically, but still.

"Tell what you know," Mari demands, and I manage a very slight nod.

"That's what I'm here to do," I say quietly.

She sees something in the look in my eyes, I think, because she pulls back her wing and lets me go. "You know him?"

"It's a long story," I say. It takes considerable effort to force myself to look into her eyes — but I make myself do it, because she needs to see that I care. That I'm just as invested as she is. "Can you tell me what's going on?"

Mari begins to glare at me, like she's still trying to decide whether I'm lying or not — but then she meets my eyes, and something in her softens.

And then she tells me.

Tarin isn't dead. That's the first piece of news I hear, and the relief that floods me is so overwhelming I stagger, half-collapsing; Mari catches me, to my surprise, though the expression on her face is still hard.

The problem isn't that Tarin is dead. It's that he won't wake up, and not even their best healers can find anything wrong with him.

I take all of two steps into the hut before I realize that I can.

I sense it almost the moment I step within range, and I freeze in place. There's a bit of Interface Firmament, the same kind that crushed me when I tried to resist the raid failure. It's buried somewhere in Tarin, interfering with the normal flow of his Firmament.

"Shit," I say, letting out a breath.

"What?" Mari demands. "You know something?"

"It's part of the damn Trial." I half-growl out the words, and Mari seems to recognize the kindred anger in my voice, because some more of the suspicion in her eyes fades away. She doesn't trust me entirely, still, and I don't blame her; this version of her never fought with me.

It doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. She'd been feeding me soup less than a day ago. I still remember her in the last moments before the loop ended — she'd been thinking about comforting me.

While holding on to her own dead husband.

I still don't know how Tarin died. I don't know if I'll ever know. Maybe if Temporal Fragment grows strong enough that it lets me peer in on past loops, which seems like a distinct possibility with the skill; there's definitely more that it hides from me.

But what killed him isn't important right now. It's how to fix it. If I can pull that foreign Firmament out of Tarin's body...

I remember the way the Interface crushed me when I tried to fight it, and I suppress a shudder. Somehow, I doubt that will be nearly as easy as I hope.

"What happened," Mari says. It's not quite a question, but I hear the willingness to listen in her voice.

"It really is a long story," I say, but she's undeterred.

So I tell it anyway, starting from the very beginning for the third time.