A year of nightmares, of seeing that grinning, gaunt visage wade through lightning and fire. Of seeing it carved to ribbons, bludgeoned, crushed and shattered only to keep on coming. Xia could hardly put into words how terrifying it was to see it in person but if she were to have tried she’d have compared it to seeing a mountain stand up and start walking towards her. There was no way to escape it, no possible result but annihilation. Now imagine the mountain hated you, would take pleasure from grinding you beneath a ten-thousand tonne heel, given the opportunity would even take its time…

She’d been rather looking forwards to seeing Master Ouro get his ass handed to him in the safe environment of the sparring hall, now… now she was nearly sick with dread for the officious weasel.

He had no idea what Bastion Zero was capable of. No one did. Except her, she realized, only she knew the horrors that creature could unleash. Even limited as he was by the rules the sparring hall imposed he… wasn’t actually doing much she realised.

Tentatively she crossed back over to the console and checked the settings, heaving a sigh of relief as she saw that the monster wearing the face of a man was limited to just using his hands and feet. Even with M’kal’s warnings she couldn’t see much he could do that would harm Ouro.

Somewhat reassured she moved back to watch.

Bastion Zero was not an especially tall man, five foot eight if that, his face lacked the scars she’d seen in her latest dream, utterly unblemished beyond a gauntness to the cheeks, a sharpness to the chin and a dull lifelessness to the eyes. His deep auburn hair was long, bordering upon girlish really, and tied back in the crude ponytail of someone who saw their hair as an inconvenience but not a large enough one to just have it sheered off, his chin on the other hand was clean shaven, so unbothered by stubble that she suspected he’d had the hair removed, a stark contrast of vanity and slovenliness that she couldn’t parse.

If this were a romance novel it was the point she’d notice a boyish charm, a hint of mischief or a devilish smile, something to soften him. There was nothing. Bastion Zero certainly wasn’t ugly but there was a coldness to him that made most androids appear approachable by comparison.

For starters he didn’t smile, but he didn’t scowl either, there was no rage to him, no passion of any kind. This was someone who was just going through the motions and who’s mind had checked out long, long ago. What he did do was talk, though Xia couldn’t make out the words (and she should have been able to), dead eyes never leaving Ouro’s increasingly enraged face as the swordsmaster tried to carve the man to ribbons.

That in itself was unusual, she’d seen Ouro fight before and she’d never once seen it took him more than three swings to strike down a foe – a result of the specialized magic he used – but the master swordsmage had been attacking without pause for close to a minute now without even scratching Bastion Zero.

The monster wasn’t even using both hands, simply deflecting the blade with one, the other behind his back as he slowly retreated in a circle, the hand he was using wasn’t even moving that fast, but wherever it went it met the flat of Ouro’s blade, pushing it aside to either move to the next block or to a neutral state to do the same. It was like watching a teacher with a particularly obstinate child.

Or a cat with mouse, Xia added in the privacy of her own head. Master Ouro had never revealed exactly what the spell was that let him outduel opponents so effortlessly but she knew it had something to do with time, and that the spell was a hefty one, a magician of Ouro’s calibre could maintain it indefinitely, or so he bragged, but it was sufficiently hefty that casting a second spell with it running was a strict impossibility.

She knew something had gone terribly wrong when Ouro accelerated, moving from the speed of a seasoned athlete and fighter to that of the outright superhuman. It achieved nothing, Bastion Zero had to speed up as well but even then he wasn’t the literal blur that Ouro was. He was simply better, had seen every possible combination of attacks, could read the slightest tensing in Ouro’s stance and respond accordingly.

Still Ouro wasn’t done, and Xia found herself rooting for him, hoping against hope that he could land just one blow as he summoned his battlestaff from the floor, flames leaping from the dragon’s head cap as he stepped back.

Bastion Zero just stood there and took it, his words lost entirely over the roar and crackle of dragonfire unleashed, the flames a brilliant blue that would have carved through plate steel like a laser. The monster’s skin didn’t even redden.

Xia had seen the kind of flames it would take, flames so hot they were almost invisible, dancing with the pale yellow of divinity and the deep purple-red of daemonfire at once. Flames that made shapes and stalked and hunted and made symbols that seared their way into her retinas. This was just dragonfire and Bastion Zero treated it with total contempt.

Once he’d realised it was ineffective he simply walked through the flames, not just ignoring the heat but the kinetic force that came with it, crossing to the retreating Ouro, the mage unable to see through the light of his own fire to realize his opponent was simply marching towards him. By the time he noticed it was simply too late, Bastion Zero wrapped bulky fingers around the stave and simply pulled it from his grip, throwing it aside.

That casual throw was all the opening Ouro needed, sinking his blade into the man’s chest, sparks of lightning passing up the blade as the enchantment a triumph written all across his face, “Got you at last you damned eel.”

Those dead eyes regarded her master with the same consideration she’d have given a mosquito the morning after waking with a dozen bites. “Yes. You have.” The punch sent chunks of Ouro’s skull to the back wall. That would have been chilling enough, and the sheer suddenness of it had made Xia take a step back, hands to her mouth, but worse was yet to come as Bastion Zero’s eyes sought her out and, despite the mirrored glass, made eye contact with her. With that he faded from existence, simulation over.

*

“No way. No way in hell.” Xia yelled, backing away from Ouro as if he were brandishing a weapon.

It was just five minutes later and Ouro had sprung back remarkably well from having his brains used as an impromptu piece of modern art. It had, he had pointed out, rather more often than necessary in Xia’s opinion, been the most likely result, and he’d declined to fight the versions of Bastion Zero that were allowed to do more than just punch him.

A rematch had also proven unlikely, apparently he was saving his strength for meeting the real thing. If that had been the end of it Xia would have been almost happy, she finally had a name, or at least a title, for the monster who haunted her dreams. It was a small closure.

Unfortunately she had to deal with Ouro’s idiocy.

“I will force you into that simulation if you make me girl.” Ouro growled, “and I will do it as many times as I have to until you stop freaking out at the sight of him. We have to work with that freak of nature and your personal issues are not my concern.”

“Personal issues?” She yelled, losing her temper entirely, “Is that what you see this as you narcissistic idiot? I have seen that man in my dreams every night, last night he even murdered me in them, and you still expect me to work with him?”

“Yes. That’s the job.” He snapped back, “We have orders.”

“I never signed up for this!” Xia all but screamed, “I was abducted and brought here against my will, held, against my will and trained against my will, but if you think I’m going to be in the same room as Bastion Zero then you’re off your rocker.”

To his rather limited credit Ouro didn’t respond by just dragging her to the console as he’d threatened, if anything his expression softened, “These dreams… do you think they’re going to stop? You don’t dream about the most deadly Immortal every night for a year because it’s fun, face it young Moran, there’s fate afoot here. If you run from it now then you’ll be running from it for the rest of your life.”

It was a good speech, almost practiced even, and it did manage to work its way past Xia’s panicking brain stem into her frontal lobes. With glimmers of rationality returning it was a lot harder to hold onto her righteous fury, she still meant nearly every word she’d said, but Master Ouro was right, she would have to face this eventually, if she ran today it would be all the harder tomorrow.

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“Fine.” She sighed, “Damn you but fine. But just once.”

“Just once.” Her master acquiesced, “If it’s any help he seems to favor his right side.”

No he didn’t. Xia rubbed at her eyes as that knowledge, born of restless nights, prodded at her. He’s left handed, Ouro had simply not even merited even that.

*

Inside the simulation she found herself having to fight to control her breathing, hyperventilation beckoned and it was a battle not to heed its siren call especially when Bastion Zero himself appeared. She wished the simulation had included a smoke effect, a flash, just something to ease the transition from emptiness to presence.

Those cold, dead, grey eyes regarded her, heavy with judgement. “No magic. No concept. No System. No aura. Fearful and not just from reputation.” He concluded in leaden tones, holding her gaze. “Familiarity and yet I do not know you. Curiouser and curiouser.”

He slowly lowered his centre of balance, one arm behind his back, the other in a neutral guard in front of him, “I was summoned with a purpose. Let us begin.”

It was as if her limbs moved on their own, as if she’d been given a command she had no choice but to follow. Still it wasn’t a half-hearted effort, she put her all into the blows, not bothering with a weapon – what would be the point? – as she rained punches upon him mixing in a few front and side kicks for good measure though she refused to use anything with a spinning component, wanting her eyes on him at all times.

None of them landed, just as with Ouro the defense was impenetrable, Bastion Zero simply giving ground. “Amateurish. Full of rage.” He noted impassively. “Little ego. They’ve abused you badly haven’t they young one?”

The words stung, mostly because they were all true. In just a minute of fighting her he’d cut all the way to the heart of her. A dry, sarcastic part of her wondered if that was what M’kal had meant when he’d said Bastion Zero could attack someone through the simulation.

“Shut up!” She yelled, her attacks getting more frantic, working in a few jump kicks now, elbow strikes, no longer trying to strike his body but outright aiming for the arm, it was a stupid strategy really, she’d seen it work but the idea it would achieve anything on an Immortal was laughable. Just keep striking the defending limb until the pain forced them to lower it.

“Improvisation. Desperation.” That unconcerned voice noted.

“I said shut up!” In a moment of rage she grabbed the arm, pulling it towards her and turning in for a throw, all her weight and strength behind it, the technique perfect. She might as well have tried to throw a small planet. Sure a large enough lever could move the Earth but alas as a fulcrum she was lacking. Always lacking.

Bastion Zero let her back away, the young scientist shaking with her rage. “If you did not want to fight monsters, why join the Citadel?” There was a hint of emotion now, dismissiveness, contempt.

“Is that a joke?” She demanded, “Join? Join?!” She didn’t bother with her sword, leaping at him, arms outstretched as she sought to plunge her fingers into his eyes. For the first time Bastion Zero brought his second arm into play, grabbing her wrists. His eyes widened in shock, or rather his eye, for the other was pierced clean through.

From out of her index finger a silvered skewer of steel extended, past Bastion Zero’s guard and deep into his skull. Xia’s secret weapon had just passed its test run spectacularly. Sadly this was still Bastion Zero, the man calmly pushed her away, the slim blade pulling free as it began to disappear back into her hand. The eye healed a moment later. “You did not join the Citadel of your own free will?” He asked, bored demeanour gone entirely as his eyes pierced into hers as if trying to see the truth of her very soul.

“N-no, I was on a life extension project for a medical tech company when my project got canned. I uh… well I stole the project and used it on myself, next thing I know a close friend of mine shoots me to test it works then teleports me here.” Xia explained somewhat lamely, it sounded foolish even to her own ears.

Bastion Zero closed his eyes but not in time for Xia to miss the rage burning in them, “I have been gone too long. Do you wish vengeance?”

“Not really.” She admitted, for all she’d thought about it for a long time she had to admit that, if she were parsing Raf’s comments about ‘bigger problems’ correctly, she had in many ways been done a favour. “Honestly this place is a dream, if I’d just been asked well I doubt I’d have any complaints at all.”

“Regardless some form of rot has set in.” He stated coldly, “I will have to investigate. A question remains, you know me yet I do not know you. How?”

“I’m not telling you that.” Xia swiftly declared, backing away from him further.

“A mystery for another time.” Bastion Zero turned his gaze skyward, “I surrender.”

*

“What did he say to you?” That was the first question Xia had to deal with when she emerged from the simulation confirming at least that the strange muffling effect that had plagued Ouro’s fight had applied to hers as well. It also left her, for the first time she could recall since she arrived at the Citadel, in a position of power over Ouro, and potentially over the Council itself, not that she’d ever met any of the Councillors other than M’kal, and even that just twice including today.

The question was what to tell her rather impatient master. Despite Bastion Zero’s threat of ‘investigating rot’ now the simulation had ended the simulant would have been reset and thus couldn’t do anything but on the other hand it wouldn’t be able to verify what she said either…

“He thought I could free him and wanted me to join him.” Xia lied, trusting to a poker face that hadn’t been properly tested in years, “He promised we’d rule the Citadel together.” She added wistfully. “I turned him down flat.”

The scientist ran the conversation with her personal nightmare back through the filter of her memory, fairly sure her account more or less aligned with her half of what was said.

Ouro actually looked surprised, “You weren’t even tempted?” Huh, had her egomaniacal master really had a conversation along those lines? She doubted it, rage wasn’t exactly the response she’d have expected from a peacock of Ouro’s calibre. Frankly a full throated, double fisted grab for power were what she’d have expected.

“Not even slightly.” Xia assured him, “The Citadel is undermanned as it is, the last thing I’m going to do is try and kick off a civil war.”

“That new weapon… what was it?” He asked, “I can’t believe you actually landed a blow on him that he didn’t just allow.”

“My nanites have been storing extra iron in my body.” Xia explained, “I programmed them to extrude a long cone of steel from my index finger if I clench the opposite hand three times in under a second.”

“Neat. Easy to hide too and the deployment time, I might have to be careful in our next spar. Got a name for it yet?” The mage taking an actual interest rather than just treating her as an inconvenience.

“I wasn’t going to bother, it’s just the prototype and-“

“Names are important. They hold power, especially in the mouths of others.”

“Not sure that applies to secret weapons master.” Xia’s observation drier than a desert in the midst of a drought.

“Still applies, if you name it then there’s a chance that if you visit a System world you might pick up some skills specific to it.” He explained. Suddenly the overblown and melodramatic names people gave their equipment made sense.

“How about… Sting in the Tail? Or just Sting?” She suggested, naming things had never been her department, and the fact her old company had had a department solely devoted to backronyms had been an endless irritation.

“Sting in the Tail it is.” Ouro agreed readily enough, “Now let’s talk about how best to use it outside of a sparring match.”

*

It was the best part of a day later. Master Ouro hadn’t left her side the entire time, apparently getting the great boogeyman on the Citadel to surrender, if on his weakest simulation, was enough to deserve the great scout leader’s personal attention and tuition. If Xia had known it would be that easy she’d have punched someone important in the mouth months ago.

“Deep breaths Xia.” Ouro told her, apparently she finally merited him using her name, “You’ve faced him once before and he was the one that ran away. You can do this.”

The scientist forced a smile, “You’re right.” She lied brazenly, mostly to herself, the idea that a weakened simulation could in any way compare to the real thing was laughable, but here they were, stood outside of Bastion Zero’s cell.

Correction, stood outside the first security checkpoint to Bastion Zero’s cell. It was always weird thinking about the manpower the Citadel of Eternity had available, hundreds of thousands seemed like a lot until you tried to defend nigh infinite realities but here at least the Citadel was defending in force.

Their weapons were examined and then removed, citing the possibility that Bastion Zero might use them to break out of his cell. She went through two different body scanners, one of which alarmed and forced her to put her nanites into a dormant mode. All the while marines in power armour kept weapons on them with an attitude that could only be described as downright twitchy.

That was a fact that was made all the worse that to even be allowed to guard Bastion Zero meant you had to be a Class 1 Eternal, each of these men and women were considered harder to kill than Ouro and they were nervous, what chance did she have?

The second checkpoint only made it weirder, lots of folks in what she could only describe as spandex costumes and brooding gazes, this time they checked she had any System enhancements turned off, something she hadn’t even known was possible – not that she had any such enhancements in the first place. That still rankled.

The third checkpoint was mages, long bearded, dazzling robed sages with staff and hat, even the women. It was like she’d walked into a contest for who could be the bigger stereotype. That wasn’t an opinion she dared express, for all the second checkpoint how been weird as hell it had been somewhat relaxed, this one was wired so tight she could almost see mental springs threatening to snap.

No scanners here, just spells, barely subcritical and aimed at her, Ouro or the door. A final safety waiver and they were now finally in front of the door to Bastion Zero’s cell.

“It’s going to be fine.” Master Ouro reassured her, or perhaps himself. “He’s restrained in there, can barely even move, slightest sign of danger and we’ll leave.”

That got a laugh from one of the guards, “Slightest sign of danger and we’re locking the door until the screaming stops.” She told them flatly. “Good luck. Morons.”

Slowly the door, a thick bulkhead that put Xia in mind of a submarine, or at least would have if it hadn’t been outright glowing with runes, swung open, failing to reveal the room, just a lightless void where the cell was being held in an extradimensional space, the transport apparently strictly one way even for light.

“It’s going to be fine.” Xia echoed, “He can’t hurt me, and I need answers.”

With that said she stepped through the threshold.