"Just as Senior Brother Ilmiri secured the Luminous Pearls, we were ambushed by a pack of Umbra Wolves ..."

...

"Left with no choice, we escaped into the raucous dust storms ..."

...

"A wooden staff with brass bells hit me on the head, most probably carried over by a gust of wind ..."

...

"And then I woke up here, where a series of alien memories materialized in my brain," recounted Josiah, accompanied by a quartet of his sect mates under a lush canopy.

"You mentioned Senior Brother Ilmiri was taken," said Sister Limona—the tall redhead who had pacified him moments prior. "Could you expand on that further?"

"It's difficult to relate in words—similar to describing an abstract shape. In my head, I know Senior Brother Ilmiri was captured; that the key to his release is three Causal Ficus Leaves."

"Like language," offered Brother Borneo with his distinct, baritone pitch. "Unforgettable in essence, but fleeting in origin."

"Exactly!" Nodding animatedly, Josiah queried, "So ... what should we do?"

Sister Limona sighed. "It's not like we've been given much choice. We'll do as they asked. Senior Brother Ilmiri would do the same—hell, he already has for most of us."

"Besides," continued Brother Borneo, "Senior Brother Ilmiri won't be killed. At worst, he'll lose his spatial pouch and a few days. You're no doubt familiar with his grandmother, I presume?"

Josiah shook his head.

Sister Rosetta—one of the two who had yet to speak—shifted uncomfortably. Meekly, she murmured, "Dreaded Monarch Delilah."

Anxiety permeated their ranks, as if she'd uttered a taboo and not a name.

**

Karma, dipping his toes in a shallow ravine, declared, "Success! Another extortion proceeds as planned. Maybe this is my true calling?"

Once again vacationing from Karma's spatial pouch, Anlîthëma mumbled, "Your talent for exploiting those weaker than you sure is extraordinary."

"Delegation, my dear, spherical friend," corrected Karma. "Collaboration is a key component of any successful undertaking."

"I've heard similar mottos from slavers."

"Now-now, I'm not forcing anyone into servitude. This is completely voluntary!"

"You, very recently, threatened to flay me unless I stopped speaking."

"One moment of weakness doesn't—"

"When we met, you gave me two choices: get in your spatial pouch, or be gouged of all my Karma and wiped into oblivion."

"Aha! You were given the freedom to choose—by definition, a voluntary affair."

"Your track record further includes: blackmailing Lance, murdering Penelope and her father, melting that poor imp, I'm not even remotely sure what you did to those four monks ..."

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Karma furtively stared at his toes, listening as Anlîthëma narrated a lengthy tome of iniquities.

"... and, last but not least, you kidnapped your sect mate and plan to leverage his sister's suitors for personal gain."

"Well, when you phrase it like that—"

"I was being generous. You consigned my shameful past as collateral for good behavior."

"I see."

...

"Have I done anything worthy of praise?"

"One moment, please."

...

"You've been fairly generous with your steam buns."

So I'm a villain, then.

Stricken with grief, Karma sought solace in an imperative most holy.

Nom.

Savoring some sweet, succulent, heavenly steam buns.

"Thanks"—nom—"for reminding me."

**

In the spirit of delegation, Karma brought Anlîthëma to a natural hot spring, periodically monitoring the Bellicosi group's progress.

"Maybe I am a villain." Leaning back into steaming delight, he slipped into a state of enervated bliss. "At least, in this case, it sure does beat the alternative."

**

Defeaning screeches chased Josiah and his team in a hair-raising escape. A veritable army of Iron-Spiked Gorillas loped at their heels. Boulders, feces, and other makeshift projectiles rained down on them akin to heavenly tribulation.

All for a paltry, bronze-tinted leaf.

**

"Have they got any?" asked Anlîthëma, soaking its bottom half beside Karma.

"One. Is this comfortable for you? Your anatomy is still unclear to me."

"I can't explain it—but yes. I feel my metaphysical pores cleansing of filth."

"Huh, neat."

**

"Take my hand!" shouted Limona, standing over a precipitous outcropping.

Brother Borneo scrambled upward, a sky-blotting tsunami mere breaths away from flattening him into a pulpy stain.

His fingers slipped.

He howled.

"I've got you!" yelled Brother Josiah, weaving a colorless plateau through his air-resistance Attunement.

He provided just enough counterforce for Limona's spiritual energy to hoist him up.

All for a stupid leaf.

**

"Any progress?" moaned Anlîthëma, enamored by a technique it'd entitled rolling relaxation.

"Two. If you can exfoliate, then what about taste?"

"I've never tried. Shall we find out?"

"Let's."

**

"Dead! Sister Rosetta is dead! Eaten by a fucking sphynx!" wailed Borneo, fighting off a serrated bone claw in a maddened sprint.

His three companions were wedged under an onerous trap door, giving their all to prevent its closure.

All for a leaf.

**

"Wow! This is good; no wonder you insist on carrying them with you," voiced Anlîthëma, using its body to inhale mouthfuls of glistening meat wrapped in delicate pastry. "Done?"

"Yeah. They lost one, though. I feel bad."

"Pity."

...

"Do you digest the food? If so, how much, and where do the remainder and/or nutrients go?"

"I think I perspire them? That's likely what gets cleaned from my pores."

"Fascinating—I'll memorize this for later; soul research must fetch a high price, no?"

"Spiritual stone fragments counted in the millions, and the demand far exceeds the supply."

**

Within the swarthy copse from before, four indigo-robed men and women fidgeted nervously. A trio of Causal Ficus Leaves was stranded in the open: far enough to avoid suspicion, yet near enough to audit.

"How will they know we've fulfilled their requirements?"

"What if it was all a farce?"

"Will they demand another bounty? What then?"

Swoosh.

"Senior Brother!" exclaimed Josiah, alerting the others. They scrambled to the side of a crumpled, alabaster-haired man.

Groan. "Wh—"

"Shh, you're safe now."—"Are you hurt?"—"Did they rob you?"—"Rosetta, she ..."

Frowning, Senior Brother Ilmiri patted his robes. "No injuries. Spatial pouch: present and untouched. Rosetta?"

Surveying their dour expressions, his eyes turned downcast.

"Rosetta will be missed dearly," Senior Brother Ilmiri enunciated. Clenching his teeth, he spat, "Who?"

Choking a sob, Brother Borneo replied, "The monks."

**

Karma's meridians welcomed an intoxicating, phantom black mixture of elevation and evolution.

Minor realms were but an afterthought to Schrödinger's Crucible, made number sticks by its serum.

Attunements, beggaring their pre-eminence, were traded for trinkets.

Why?

I could divine it ...

Something warned him not to.

Or, I can prance and preen at reaching eighth-level Qi Formation and 16-fold linearity acceleration.

**

Karma's eyelids shot open. "Uh oh."

"What's 'uh oh?'"

"Remember Senior Sister Tang's warning? The one about your existence unraveling?"

"Vaguely ..."

"Apparently, 16-fold is a bit over the unravel threshold. I'd give myself roughly half a day to complete my Request."

"Should you fail?"

"Boom."

"And triumph would negate that eventuality?"

"Unclear. It might even make it bigger."

"Exciting."

**

Guess I won't be needing him after all, thought Karma, tossing Senior Brother Lione into a bush.

One bottle of Implicant Dew separates me from death and—well, if I live, I'm sure to figure it out.

Probably.