David quickly retracted his hand and jumped back from the other two men who had attempted to go through the now-vanished vortex.

“Well, that was unexpected. I would have liked to see where you came from, little rat.”

FUCK. Why didn’t it work?

His only possible chance at escaping, and it had failed.

Am I trapped in this world for the rest of my life? Then again, that may not be long…

The man with the burned face observed him with the same toothless smile, only there was something like the aftermath of an explosion of rage and curiosity marked in the creases around his eyes. It was fascinating to watch, in the same way reading about a serial killer is.

The sheer dichotomy between him and the man beside him was just as intriguing.

Where the burned man wore every emotion on his face plain for everyone to see, his…friend—that certainly didn’t seem like the right word—was like a barren desert at night. The only clue to what he was thinking was the fact that the blue flame orbs he had put around the burned man were now floating towards David who continued to slowly tread backwards.

The burned man’s obsidian sword disappeared from his hand.

That could be a good sign.

“Bal, you are scaring the poor boy.”

The flame orbs continued arcing towards him.

“How does he have that ability?” The orbs stopped their determined pursuit for a moment as Bal looked at the burned man with a suspicious glint in his eyes.

“Is this your doing, Netsu?”

The burned man raised his only intact eyebrow. “Not everything is a scheme, Bal. I am just as ignorant of the little rat’s story as you.”

Everytime he said ‘little rat’, which for some reason he rolled the ‘r’ for, David felt his skin crawl. He did not like nicknames, and he especially did not like nicknames given from an unhinged psychopath.

The five blue flame orbs remained hovering where they were, half in between David and the burned man.

“Schemes are the sustenance of the weak. Without them, they cannot live.” There was no humor in Bal's words; they were meant to impale.

The burned man brushed a few specs of ash off of his pristine white cloak.

“Metaphors are better left to smarter men, Bal. You are more suited for…burning things. Ah, and creating rifts, which you will do for us now. If I have to stay in this place any longer, I may just kill you.”

David watched as blue wings that resembled those of a bat, only significantly larger, burst into life on Bal’s back.

“I will fly there.”

“Oh, and carry five of us with you? No, I think not. Create the rift, Bal.”

Five?

He was unsure who the fifth person was, but he was positive he was being included in the group.

Strangely, the thought of following these men did not scare him as much as he expected. In the few days he had been in this world, he had already endured a maelstrom of near-death experiences. He could endure this too. He would.

Bal's jaw clenched as he spoke. “I would…rather not.”

The burned man smiled. “Ah, I see now. You still have not figured out how to create rifts as easily as the flame tribe did. This will be your last one for a long time, won’t it?”

Silence simmered.

“Do it. Now.”

The blue flame wings disappeared.

“Fine.”

Bal closed his eyes for a brief moment. Then, he reached out his right arm and began to trace a circle through the night air with his finger. As his finger moved, a thin blue light trailed it. When the blue light had formed into a full circle, drops of red, green, and yellow light began to drip from the edges and swirl inside.

His technique was entirely different from the one Kleymon had taught David. That seemed an important detail, but captivated by the vortex, David could not think upon it any deeper. The connection between Bal, the burned man, and Kleymon was something he needed to ponder later. If this world was ever kind enough to give him a few minutes to actually think in peace, he would.

“Elise, you first.” The burned man looked at the white-robed woman as he spoke.

“Very well.” She stepped up to the vortex of color and stuck her hand through.

Instantaneously, she disappeared, as if her existence was never real to begin with.

“You now, Petalman.”

Petalman? That’s not me, right?

David saw a small movement ten feet behind the two men. A green hedge was…transforming.

Like a timelapse of a rotting fruit, the hedge turned from green to gray. Petals grew, and wrapped themselves into sinewy vines, eventually twisting into a man-shaped body. The gray petal body was larger and taller than either of Bal or the Burned man, both of whom David guessed were at least 6 feet.

So, this is a Petalman.

David’s stomach squirmed while watching the process. It seemed unnatural, ironic as that was, as if something living had just birthed something dead.

An eerie whistling followed the Petalman as he walked to the vortex.

Though the Petalman had no eyes—its face was all petals just like the rest of its body—David was sure he could feel it watching him before it put its hand in the vortex and disappeared.

Stolen story; please report.

“Where did you find this Petalman, Netsu?” The appearance of the creature seemed to have set Bal even more on edge, if that was impossible.

The burned man waved away the question. “We’ll discuss that another time. It is your turn, Bal.”

Without another word, Bal stuck his hand through and disappeared.

Only David and the burned man remained.

“Finally, you, little rat.”

David took a deep breath, in and out. He took a few steps forward and placed his hand in the swirling portal.

Crack

Crack

Crack

I…am…breaking

David crumbled to the ground, gasping for breath. Gasps turned to heaves as clear liquid belched from his mouth.

His shaking hands grasped the cold floor like it was a liferaft, the only assurance he had that he had not been utterly broken.

“Good, we are all here. Ah…why is the little rat on the ground?”

The burned man’s voice came to him muffled, as if he was hearing it from the inside of a coffin. He still could not open his eyes; he was sure that when he did, his body would be in pieces.

“He collapsed after coming through.”

“Did he? He acts as if this is his first time using a rift. How strange. Bal, bring him to Cyst. Then, meet me in the Sun Chamber.”

Hands grabbed him by the armpits and yanked him upwards, deftly slinging him over their back, as if he was a wounded soldier.

They began to move at a deliberate pace. His body quickly acclimated to the exceedingly uncomfortable position it was in, and based on the fact that he could still feel uncomfortable, he finally opened his eyes, hoping that he was not as damaged as he had felt.

The floor his head faced was a polished white stone that despite its sheen, looked aged from decades of use. His dangling hands were, thankfully, still whole, not broken to pieces.

He clenched and released them, feeling the natural tension of a relatively healthy body. He reasoned the rest of his body was also okay.

“You can put me down.”

The man carrying him stopped abruptly, then straightened his back so that David fell to the ground awkwardly.

Davis saw the charred cloak of Bal walking ahead as he got up.

On Earth, he would have commented on what a dick move that was.

He bit his tongue to stop any retort. The people here were warped, their lives dictated by the strength of their abilities. He had no doubt that if he said one wrong word he would not live to say another.

Even a simple question like “Where are we going?” which was burning in his mind, seemed impossible to bring up. Instead, he silently followed behind, observing his surroundings.

They were walking through a wide corridor with an arched ceiling built from the same white stone as the floor. Every 5 feet along the left wall of the corridor there were half-circle windows where fresh sunlight beamed in.

On the right wall of the corridor, aligned straight ahead of every window, was a clear glass cylinder built into the stone. A gigantic beetle, as wide and long as a human head, was stationed inside each cylinder, and posed in a way they appeared to be sunbathing.

The carapaces of the beetles were a dusty ochre, but in the center of each was a deep indentation shaped like an hourglass. A light yellow glow emanated from the indentation and reflected off of the cylindrical glass casing.

The strange lighting system—David assumed that's what it was—reminded him of the glowing bugs in Tunk’s home.

He hoped Tunk was doing alright. The rumors about him Lor had spoken of still rattled around in his head. Tunk was an outcast, obviously. His home was strangely hidden, and the jarred body parts everywhere inside certainly did not do him any favors.

Helping out a stranger in need, feeding them and letting them stay in your home, was all of that genuine compassion, or just a step towards something more sinister?

Truthfully, he could see it being either. But, he felt more strongly inclined to believe Tunk was just a decent guy who offered help when it was reasonable for him.

There have to be some good people in this world, right?

“Enter.”

Bal had stopped in front of a wooden door that marked the end of the corridor, and was now facing David.

“Do whatever the man or woman in there tells you to. Attempt to escape through a rift or use any of your abilities, and you will die. Understood?”

David nodded. He would not try to escape. Yet.

Bal stepped to the side and watched as he pushed the door open.

He was not expecting to walk into a library.

It was a simple one, with black bookshelves lining every side of the room, except a portion of the left wall, where a massive circular window soaked the six wooden tables placed in the center of the room in golden light.

There were two people in the library.

One was a few steps ahead of David, seated at a very tiny desk, studiously copying the faded text from one manuscript to another.

He was an older man, with a wispy white beard and a well-groomed mustache to match. He looked the type to keep meticulous lists of everything from how many books there were in the library to how many pieces of dust coated the shelves.

David approached the desk.

The man’s forehead was crinkled in concentration.

David spoke. “Excuse me.”

“Lev meh alone.” The man had a heavy accent that sounded similar to an Irish person. He continued writing his notes.

“I was told—”

“Don’t carre.”

“Just a little help—”

The old man cut him off again. “Don’t carre. Go esk Cyst o’er dere.” He aimlessly pointed his small finger behind him.

David approached the only other person in the library. The closer he got, the more entranced he became, like a moth drawn to a flickering light.

Her hair was short, slicked back, and the dark black of an igneous rock.

Or was it?

Now, it looked like the scarlet red of a vivid sunset.

The colors shifted, from black, to red, to brown, all of them fundamentally opposed to her albino white skin.

He recalled seeing a man with the same shifting hair and pale skin in the visions Kleymon had shown him back on Earth.

The gray-blue eyes set in her thin face were perusing a leatherbound book, her legs propped up on the wooden table.

She gently set down the book when he got to the other side of the table.

“New recruit?”

Unlike the looks he had received from most people in this world, she didn’t try to scour through every part of him in search of the weak fleshy spots. She looked at him like he was a dusty gem hidden in the dirt, and it was her job to clean him up.

Still, it was an intense look, and the shifting colors of her hair and the light smile playing on her lips made him feel dizzy.

“Uh, may I sit?”

“Of course.”

He pulled out the chair opposite her and quickly thought through what he was going to say. He’d keep details minimal, only the things she’d need to know to understand how he got to…wherever this was.

“I’m not a… ‘recruit’. I’m not even sure exactly what that means.”

Her black-painted nail ran up and down the curve of her jaw.

“What’s your name?”

David was caught off guard by the question. He realized it was the first time anyone had ever asked him that.

Do I use my real name? A fake name? Is there any point to a fake name?

“It’s…David.”

“Hmm…David. That’s not a name I’ve ever heard before, which should be interesting. Yet it’s not, and also makes me want to fall asleep. I like that contradiction.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“My name is Cyst.”

“That’s—”

“An ugly name, I know. Not well-suited for someone so beautiful. A contradiction, just like you.”

“...right.”

She took her boots off the table, and scooted her chair in closer. The scent of citrus slid towards him.

“So, David, you are not a new recruit. What are you? Why are you here?”

How do I start this?

“Do you know a man named Bal?”

Her smile boldened and she leaned in further.

“I knew a man named Balisk, yes. I called him Bal once and he tried to incinerate me. Thankfully, I no longer have to worry about that. He deserted four sums ago (1 sum=36 wiqs). The Blades were not happy about that. I believe one even said that if he ever saw Balisk again that he would cut off his head, hollow it out, and use it as a bowl.”

David coughed nervously.

“Well, Balisk, and another man with a burned face, Netsu I think he was called, brought me here. After we arrived, Netsu told Balisk to bring me to you.”

Her eyes sparkled like a child listening to a magical story.

“That is very interesting. I was told Netsu was on an indefinite mission, but I did not realize it was to retrieve Balisk. And somehow you became involved. You must be quite special.”

He opened his mouth to respond but she interrupted him before he could speak.

“Whatever you are about to say, is a lie. We both know that. I do not tolerate lies, no matter the intentions behind them. I believe that is why I was entrusted with the role of training our new recruits. So, instead of telling me your lie, how about I take you to your quarters so you can get some rest. I imagine your journey so far has been difficult.”

“I…thank you.”

Cyst stood and pushed her chair in. She wore the opposite of Netsu’s white and gold outfit, with a loose black tunic, and black trousers instead. For some reason David had assumed Netsu and everyone else in this strange group would be dressed with the same color scheme.

“Follow me.”

“Actually, before we go, could I take a closer look out the window?”

Cyst smiled. “Of course.”

They walked together to the giant circular window.

As David gazed out the window, hoping to get a better look at where he was, what he saw was both awe-inspiring and grim.

Another contradiction.

Spanning out far below their viewpoint was a city three times the size of Dracon.

The buildings were all made from bricks or white stone, and each building, without exception, was capped with a red glass dome. Each dome was connected to another building's dome via a brick or stone pathway, making it appear like the city was all one interconnected cell.

Furthering the cellular-like appearance, were four large black loops that circled the city. The first loop was placed around the edge of the city, and each smaller loop was farther inside, with the last and most inward loop circuiting the largest building in the city, a gigantic brick castle with four red glass-domed turrets.

The loops looked like roads, and David could even see the rapid movement of small dark blobs along each one. If he was on Earth, he would have assumed they were cars. Here, he imagined they were some type of creature.

Breaking up the brick and stone were clumps of green-crowned trees interspersed throughout the area.

Around the city was a faded white wall almost as tall as some of the largest buildings. It was constructed from a variety of jagged bones from an extremely large creature.

Cyst spoke from beside him. “Welcome to Auros Lepida, David. The first of the three cities built by the Shadekillers.”