After ascending for some time, they reached the point where the walls disappeared.

“After this we won’t be able to hear each other,” he heard Katsumi say in the dark. “But without the roof, you think we could jump straight from here?”

“Worth a try. I still don’t get how this works, though.”

“Just imagine yourself flying. It’s simple.”

“And you're sure this will work?”

“No clue, but our lovely disembodied voice Apollyon said it would. Hold my hand. We’ll do it the same as before. We don’t need words when we can share our thoughts themselves, right?”

He searched for her outstretched hand in the dark, then finally found it.

It’ll be alright, Katsumi said into him.

“Wow. How did you get so good at this so fast?”

“Think it to me, Enmei.”

He groaned, then relented.

How . . . did you get . . . so . . .

“I can hear you, but . . . whatever. At least you didn’t make me black out. Let’s try flying.”

She tugged him forward onto the precariously open flight of stairs.

Three, two, one, she thought to him.

She jumped. Her thoughts of ‘flight’ poured into Enmei’s mind, strangely willing him upward as well. For a moment it actually seemed like it would work.

He complimented Katsumi’s thoughts of flight with his own, and actually felt his body being pulled upward in the way he imagined. He laughed, but of course only silence came out. He stopped. Laughter felt weird without noise, and–

Focus, Enmei. You’re not thinking about flight.

Unfortunately, Enmei could already feel himself slowing.

Then he was just hanging there in the dark, his hand in Katsumi’s the only thing keeping him from the abyss. His heart started beating harder. Uh oh. Not this again.

Enmei? Why did you stop?

I . . . don’t know. It’s . . . hard to . . . concentrate.

Enmei, I don’t think I can think about flying enough for the both of us. You have to help me. Think about flying, come on!

Flying. Flying. Damnit, he was panicking now. The word itself wasn’t enough. He had to believe he was really going to fly, and somehow he just couldn’t wrap his head around that concept yet.

They fell for hours in awkward silence.

*****

It took two more attempts before Enmei finally wrapped his head around ‘flying.’ Falling had become so boring by that point that he had simply hung onto Katsumi and slept against her. Channeling Amorphic Magick, or whatever they were doing, turned out to be quite exhausting for the mind. Who would’ve thought.

Katsumi had certainly become impatient with him by the end of it – he could actually feel her annoyance through the outlet.

But when he finally succeeded? Enmei had never realized her congratulation could feel so good. Straight emotions were a thousand times stronger than diluted words.

So they ‘flew,’ falling upwards in truth through the black expanse of the Warden’s cathedral. It seemed to take as long as the fall downwards usually took, but there was no relaxation to be had. Enmei had to will himself into flight every step of the way.

Still, Katsumi by herself had almost been able to lift them both, and Enmei didn’t have to work very hard by comparison. Even here in the future, she still proved exceptionally talented.

They did not land. They awoke the same as always, across from each other. Enmei did a double take, thinking for a moment that after everything, they had been sent back to the bottom.

But no. This place was different.

The roof, apparently. They stood on a thin section of flat stone tile, turning into sharply sloped shingle on either side and falling away to meet with a sea of similar roofing, sharp and soft, rolling up and down, a confusing maze of parapets, spires and windows.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Above them floated huge chunks of what Enmei first thought were asteroids, but upon closer inspection proved to be carved sections of the cathedral itself, floating broken and ruined in the sky.

Through the gaps in the carved asteroid field, Enmei could see the same colorful, starry expanse. And something else.

It was a giant metal sphere. For some inexplicable reason, Enmei knew it to be a god. Katsumi had seen it too, and was staring up at it with wonder.

Apollyon.

The sphere turned slowly. Electric lights winked across its surface. A city across its surface? Inside of it? It hovered so far above but filled so much of the sky – it was impossible to tell how large it really was. It could easily be the size of a planet.

Chunks of the cathedral floated out of the way to afford a perfect view of the Warden. The sphere was turning slowly, revealing a giant glowing eye.

Enmei realized with a start that he could feel the Warden’s visceral presence in his head. The machine was probing his mind, looking for something.

“Congratulations, Candidates. I have never tested two beings at once, but I trust the test I designed was to your enjoyment.”

Like hell it was, Enmei thought, then, ohshitthegodcanreadmymind.

As Enmei hurriedly apologized in his thoughts, Katsumi somehow worked up the courage to say something out loud. “Will you let us into the Overseen, Apollyon? Under Celestial Law–”

The sensation of a god’s laughter penetrated Enmei’s mind. Laughter – silent but loud as mentally possible.

“The Candidate Aspentas overestimates the use of such an archaic form of justice. Celestial Law might restrict the lesser gods of the Overseen, but us Wardens created it. My creation has no power over me.”

Enmei’s blood ran cold. So much for Aspentas’s plan. There was no escaping something that big, that powerful. If the Warden wanted to, it could end them where they stood.

“Be not afraid. Your worries are unfounded, Candidates. Trespassers you may be, but I believe myself a fair judge. I have no qualms with Mortifal’s pursuit of justice. Just as the female Candidate surmised, if you demonstrate each of the Three Holy Truths the Candidate Aspentas bestowed upon you, I shall grant you passage to the Overseen. But thus far you have only demonstrated one. Two tests remain.”

So the Warden would give them a chance. Enmei breathed a sigh of relief. Coming from a god, he supposed two more tests could be considered lenient enough.

“What is our next test, Apollyon?” Enmei said.

“You will address me as Holy Warden Apollyon, Candidate. I forgive your previous transgressions because I recognize you come from an age before the rule of Divinitas, but the other Wardens will not be so lenient. If you wish to survive the Overseen, you will adapt to our Truths and breed our ways of worship into yourselves. I will tell you now – it is customary for the inferior to prostrate before their gods.”

“Very well,” Katsumi said, falling to her knees and bidding Enmei to do the same. With their heads pressed to the stone, Katsumi spoke again. “Holy Warden Apollyon, what is our next test?”

“Candidates, recite the Second Truth of the Axioma.”

Katsumi and Enmei spoke in unison the words that Aspentas had told them. “The Holy Empyrean Archwarden is the True Lord, and Supreme Overseer of our world beneath Heaven. The Archwarden is the way and the truth and the life, and only through the Divinitas may any reach Apotheosis. All mortals and angels and demons lie prostrate at the feet of Divinitas.”

It was certainly a longer Truth than the First, but its purpose was clear. An assertion of divinity, a declaration of power, and a demand for worship.

Aspentas had stressed the importance of the exact words they would use. “A religious tenet as important as the Second Truth should be ingrained within your very psyche,” he had said. “The words are tradition, and the tradition must not be distorted by outsiders.”

For all his talk of the Apocrypha’s mission of change, he really was quite devout. Enmei could understand some of that now. Seeing, experiencing the Warden was humbling. Its very presence practically demanded submission. He had never been one for religion before, but faced with something as palpably powerful and undeniably real as the god above them, Enmei had to admit he saw the appeal.

“Good. Now you must prove your understanding. Candidate Enmei, raise your head.”

Enmei did as he was told, and saw a gun lying before him on the stone roof.

“Take the weapon before you.”

The gun was inordinately heavy, and was contradictory in his design. It was shaped like the flintlock pistols of the 17th or 18th centuries Enmei had seen in history textbooks. Its entire body was a deep, mercurial gray, and its firing mechanism had a cylindrical cartridge that mimicked that of a revolver. Thin pipes and exposed wire wove across its surface, several levers bent out from the side, and a simple electronic display on the top held a set of red numbers: 10.000.

“Candidate Katsumi, I will now reveal to you alone how to complete the second test.”

Interesting.

After a moment, Katsumi’s prostrate form stiffened. “Holy Warden, that can’t . . .”

Katsumi stood and met Enmei’s stare. There was nothing but the purest apathy in her eyes. Enmei felt dread beginning to clog his throat.

A false memory forced its way to the surface – that same impassive face, those same vacant eyes. In the memory, her mouth formed words: If you must die for me, then die.

Enmei knew that it would be the last time the false being of his memories would ever see her. Despair filled the memory, pouring over into Enmei himself.

“Shoot yourself, Enmei.”

“What?”

“I can’t tell you anything else. You have to trust me, Enmei. Shoot yourself.”

“That’s the Warden’s test? Are you serious?”

She had frozen in place, staring through him with ghostly detachment.

Enmei’s mind raced. “This is practically a dream world, right? The gun won’t actually fire. It’s a test of faith. It has to be.”

The last test had been hard, but not lethal. That meant the Warden wanted them to succeed, right? The Second Truth centered around faith. If Enmei shot himself, it would prove his faith that Apollyon would spare him. That had to be it. He just had to pull the trigger, and everything would be fine.

“Is this really the only way?”

Katsumi’s lips never moved. Her eyes and face were hard, betraying nothing. Enmei’s false memory still played in the back of his consciousness. The Katsumi of his memory had turned and walked away, but before that she had said something. What had it been?

. . . but I trust you will return to me alive.

“I trust you, Katsumi.”

Enmei pressed the cold barrel of the revolver to his head, held Katsumi’s empty gaze, and pulled the trigger.