Forza’s words clung to my mind as the ceiling of the dungeon closed, sealing away the horror of the war that waged above my head. Forza’s words clung to my mind, I made my way to my desk, rifling through the papers stacked high atop it. Even if there was nothing, I was searching for something, anything, that could give me answers.

I got Kynari instead.

“SUNA,” my friend slammed my door open. “Did you hear that crash- Oh paths, are you okay?”

Footfalls hit my ears as Kynari rushed to me, gripping my sides roughly with her hands and examining me thoroughly. She lifted my shirt, and patted my back, her eyebrows furrowed and cautious.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

This was strange behavior even for Kynari.

“ME?” Kynari’s booming voice rattled in my ears. “Suna, your room’s covered in blood. What the heck happened here?”

Oh, right. The blood.

I glanced at my bed, red with stains, and then at my floor, which was filled with drops of blood. Some of them had been stepped on, creating streaks across the ground.

“…Paper cut?”

“A paper cut,” Kynari didn’t hide her skepticism. “Your room looks like the end result of a Crossroads dungeon raid gone bad. I can see at least a cup of blood here. And it's unevenly distributed, so unless your paper cut goes across your arms and torso, I’d say these are battle splashes.”

Oh heck. When did she get so smart? I thought.

I didn’t want to tell her that the blood was her father’s. Not until the fighting was over.

And the death stuff…I need to think more about that. I was going to tell Kynari once I gathered my thoughts together. There isn't much to say. Someone is killing people that reject valoa, but there's no lead on who. And I spend all my time down in the dungeon anyway.

Kynari sensed my reluctance and put me down gently. After a quick pat down and forcefully rolling my sleeves up to check for wounds, she nodded, satisfied that I wasn’t hemorrhaging blood.

Then she punched my arm.

“Ow,” I cradled my limb. “What was that for?”

“I don’t know, you won’t tell me,” Kynari said. “But I think I know what happened. Dad paid you a visit and not me.”

“Why did I even try to hide it from you,” I sighed.

“Because you’re sweet,” Kynari said, much to my surprise. “Well, come on, let’s go do something else. This room is a mess.”

Her body blurred as she pushed off the floor, using it as a springboard and sending shards of rock flying everywhere.

She disappeared behind my door.

I glanced back at my room and saw streams of valoa exiting the walls and flowing over the blood, erasing it from existence.

“Thanks, Teshima,” I said. “Sorry for the mess.”

The valoa streams waved at me dismissively, not upset by the minor blood splatter.

“Teshima, show us the most popular streams,” Kynari called out.

Streams? I followed the sound of her voice.

I stepped into the dungeon’s trial of Insight and saw that it had transformed. Its usual barebones cave-look was gone, replaced by mirrors shimmering with blue valoa.

Instead of reflections, a hundred different images were displayed on their surfaces, each one showing off a different fight. However, that wasn’t all. Blue valoa rained down from the ceiling, warping and twisting until the trial room transformed into a multitude of circular stone platforms surrounded by screaming crowds.

Our surroundings had literally transformed, allowing us to view the fights as though we were standing inside the arenas in person.

Several people appeared in the rings, most engaged in various forms and stages of battle.

I gazed at the fights in wonder.

What we were seeing was the Crossroads, a mega-dungeon that spanned the world, created by combining hundreds of other dungeons into one. There were two ways for people to enter the Crossroads. They could physically enter its passageways, or they could allow the dungeon to connect with their valoa. For those who couldn’t get inside personally, a mirror could be used to connect to the Crossroads and see what was happening within them.

Personally, I didn’t like watching streams. Mostly because watching the mirrors reminded me of the day my brother had disowned me in front of the entire world.

Kynari, however, loved them.

“Ugh, too many,” Kynari shook her head. “Teshima, please show us the most popular- WAIT NO.”

Her shout came too late, and my heart churned as our surroundings warped into a familiar setting. It was Teshima Academy’s courtyard. Or rather, a recreation that had been made inside the Crossroads.

A garden of flowers and marble pathways circled around a golden statue of Forza and hundreds of people had gathered together in front of a grand hall, lighting candles of remembrance. I didn’t recognize a single one of them.

Words floated up in front of us, describing the scene.

[Replay: Anniversary of the death of the brother of the Crimson Blade, Cuikhu Teshima: Finale.]

“So, they don’t even use my name now?” I frowned.

“Sorry,” Kyanri whispered. “I forgot.”

Not all streams were live. Valoa made stream recordings and replays possible, recreating them within the unused rooms of the Crossroads. That was how Laakari taught his lessons when he wasn’t able to come to Teshima in person.

This stream in particular was popular because it was the end of a nine-year journey. Even though it had aired a month ago, it was still replaying.

My eyes focused on the numbers at the side of the mirror.

[Viewers: 2,530,162], [Nahcari: 45,656,232].

It was a note of how many had watched the stream live during its highest point.

My brother had earned a new record for viewer numbers. He stood in the center of the courtyard, and a woman lay on the floor beneath him, bleeding, and next to her was a man wielding a warhammer. The weapon’s steel head had been crushed and finger marks imprinted the metal. Both people were still, and more than likely dead.

I recognized them.

They were the two people that had instigated the fight against me in the Twin Paths Grotto bar. Finally, after eight years, my brother had caught my killers. Of course, they hadn’t been killed in the Crossroads. That was impossible. More than likely, it was added to the recreation later on.

“It’s done,” Cuikhu said, tears streaming down his face. “My brother has been avenged.”

The gathered crowd cheered and clapped, and some even had tearful eyes.

“Turn it off, Teshima,” I sighed.

“I hate that guy,” Kynari said. “How did you turn out so much better?”

The scene disappeared, all the mirrors reflecting my features like they normally would. Two hundred reflections of orange eyes gazed at me as Kynari watched me closely.

Neither Kynari nor I were naïve six-year-olds anymore. Both of us knew what had happened.

I’d been friends with her too long for her not to know.

When I’d ‘died’, Cuikhu had been inconsolable, streaming his tears on the Crossroads for all to see. His war band had hung their heads low, solemn expressions on all their faces.

During the lowest depths of his plight, my brother had vowed to the world that he would find my killers, and his viewers had steadily climbed as he walked the long journey of revenge. Every day he would talk about how he’d hugged me and trained me constantly, and he went into detail about how I’d spoken about my dreams of wanting my own warband, and to fight at the top rankings of the Crossroads. Apparently, I’d also said numerous times that my pathlessness was my greatest gift because it allowed me to see the true meaning of strength.

Conveniently, he never mentioned how I’d said none of those things to him. Either because he wasn’t there for me, or because he wouldn’t talk to me when he was.

“I guess I finally gave him what he wanted,” I tried to keep my tone lighthearted. “His viewer count is higher than Teshima’s ceilings.”

“Who cares what he wants, I know what’ll make us feel better,” Kynari squeezed her hands together excitedly. “Let’s go fight.”

“That’s your solution to everything,” I said.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“It works, doesn’t it?”

****

“Suna, dodge!” Kynari’s voice reverberated across the fighting room.

With a nimble sidestep I evaded the charge of a murderous rock. The torso-sized attacker swung past my head, smashing into the dungeon walls. I slammed my elbow into it to finish it off, and the rock crumbled to pieces with a squeak.

Two others flew at me before I could recover, and I grabbed them each in one hand, gripping them with strength that was titanic compared to what I’d once had. I hurled them onto the ground, stomping on them firmly as red valoa flowed through me. In seconds, they were defeated and disappeared into the ground.

I watched them go, swallowed up by the dungeon that had spawned it, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

If I had my broom, I wouldn’t have to be so messy. I thought. But I guess I do have to test the valoa’s boon.

“That was the last one,” I said. “Right?”

“Right!” Kynari said.

The moment her confirmation hit my ears, I crumpled against the wall and a stream of red valoa flowed out of me, quickly transforming into a small but luminescent river as it gushed out of my passageways and flew back into Kynari.

“How many was that?” I asked. “And how long did I hold it for?

“Ten minutes, and you held four hundred and fifty-six motes of valoa,” Kynari replied instantly. “Wow. I’ve gotten so good at measuring valoa.”

“Yeah, now you just have to figure out how to solve puzzles,” I replied.

Kynari huffed, “seriously though, that’s a new record. Nice. Are you feeling sick?”

I shook my head vigorously, not feeling a speck of nausea.

Four hundred and fifty-six motes of bonded valoa. That was how many I could absorb and carry at one time.

It was approximately one eleventh of Kynari’s total valoa.

More importantly, we’d made a startling discovery.

When I absorbed Kynari’s valoa, I gained the boon of strength that it granted to her. Well, one eleventh of it, but for ten minutes I could fight as though I were a wielder of Violence-type valoa, pure strength rushing through my limbs.

“I’ve got to update my notes,” I said.

“Ugh, always with the notes,” Kynari slapped her forehead. “You’ve written a whole book Suna, don’t you ever get tired of- hey, come back here!”

“I can’t hear you,” I shouted as I bolted toward the exit. “I’m too busy thinking about my notes.”

Kynari’s protests cut off as I ran out of the fighting room, rushing past a vibrantly glowing Cuebracabezas, and through the trial of Insight. Finally, I reached my room, which was now spotless and blood-free, and found what I was looking for. It was my latest report to Laakari, filled with the details of my progress.

“There you are,” I said.

Suna Teshima’s report:

Viewers: 0.

Crossroads rank: N/A.

Dungeon trial rankings:

Insight trial: level ???.

Enigma trial: level 6.

Violence trial: level 4.

Challenges trial: level 2.

Path stuff:

Path: ???. Possibly the concept of borrowing or draining.

Path step: Half-step.

Path ability: Bonded valoa absorption (tentative name).

Path ability type: Unknown.

Valoa information:

Bonded valoa affinity tier: ???. Its fast.

Valoa count: 0/456.

Valoa rank: Naos-rank/Saiph-rank.

Valoa container information:

Valoa containers filled: 0/4

Heart: 0/0 (Saiph-rank).

Brain: 0/456 (Mizar-rank).

Lungs: 0/456 (Saiph-rank).

Lower abdomen: 0/0 (Saiph-rank).

Valoa passageway information:

Valoa passageways unlocked: 80/102.

Head: 3/3.

Neck: 2/2.

Arms: 14/14.

Lips: 1/1.

Chest: 6/6.

Back: 12/12.

Hands: 2/2.

Shoulders: 2/2.

Eyes: 2/2.

Abdomen: 8/8.

Upper legs (anterior): 8/8.

Upper legs (medial): 8/8.

Upper legs (posterior): 8/8.

Lower legs (anterior): 4/10.

Other areas (all passageways locked):

Lower legs (lateral [0/2], posterior [0/12]), and feet [0/2].

* Lower legs (lateral [0/2], posterior [0/12]), and feet [0/2].

I updated my valoa count with a smile. I still needed to measure the exact strength boost I got from Kynari’s valoa, but since the amount of valoa I could hold was increasing each day, it was difficult to set hard numbers.

At the least I could survive getting crushed by fifteen candelabras. Teshima had made sure to test that thoroughly.

“Two years ago, I never would have imagined this was possible,” I murmured.

Crash.

Teshima’s walls trembled as something smacked into them from above, and I jolted.

What was that? I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

“What the paths was that?!” Kynari rushed straight into my room. “Oh, Teshima cleaned the blood.”

The blood. My eyes narrowed as they rested on my bed. Forza.

I threw aside the papers on the table and clasped my hands around a white object, smooth and featureless except for four symbols on its surface. It was the mask that Laakari had given me on my fourteenth birthday, hoping to encourage me to go outside of the dungeon.

I’d never used it until now.

“Teshima, let us out,” I said.

The walls shook around me, rippling with refusal.

“Suna?” Kynari stared at me in shock.

Crash.

The ground trembled.

My heartbeat quickened as I tightened the mask over my face. Laakari had made it for me over a year ago, but it molded perfectly to fit me even after my growth spurt.

“Kynari, let’s go,” I said. “Teshima, let us through.”

“You want to go toward whatever’s causing that?” Kynari asked, her tone more curious than reprising.

The ground shifted underneath me, pulling me back toward my bed. I ignored Teshima’s attempts to get me to stay and stepped forward. Teshima wouldn’t keep me here. They could make an exit wherever they felt like it.

Crash.

My bad feeling was growing.

“Well, you heard him, Teshima,” Kynari said, her eyes resting on the wall. “May you please open the door?”

Seeing both Kynari and I sticking together, Teshima groaned, the walls shaking and vibrating as they transformed into a passageway. The rocks became steps, the valoa became radiant arcs that illuminated our path, and the ceiling opened up, revealing a brilliant light coming from above.

Was it always so bright outside? I frowned.

I bounded up the stairs, two by two, Kynari stepping in line beside me. As we stepped out of the passage the fresh breeze tickled my nostrils, the wind carrying the scent of embers.

The exit spit me out into the outside courtyard of Teshima Academy. Hundreds of students flocked to the grounds, each looking up at the sky.

“Paths,” Kynari cursed.

We skidded to a halt, our eyes glued to the scene above us.

A gargantuan hole had pierced the endless clouds above our heads, ash and cinders spreading across the atmosphere as flames singed the ruins of our greatest defense. For the first time in my life, I saw the naked sun, brilliant and yellow. I should have felt wonder, and awe, but fear gripped my heart.

Our protection had been pierced.

We were exposed to what lay beyond.

Gazing down upon Nahcari were one hundred metallic orbs suspended between the stars, each larger than the sun in the sky. Otherworldly constructions of metal sinew and skin dwarfed the sun. Dropping from the constructs and into the layers of clouds were swarms composed of millions of beings.

They descended in a wave, creating terror into the souls of the people below. Large black husks taller than Teshima’s spires let out roars as they strode across great flying bridges of metal. Others unfurled grotesque wings and flew freely in the skies. Yet more grasped at the clouds with chitinous clawed fingers, weaving them into footholds. There was no end to their appearances and abberations. Most were dots, smaller than bugs to my eyes, but a shiver rippled down my spine as I gazed upon the monstrous horde.

They were the viewers.

I had lain safe underground for so long that I’d forgotten the horrors that lurked above our heads. It was enough to drive even the staunchest of warriors to their knees. Screams broke out across the city at the sight, fear twisting the hearts of those that gazed upon the skies.

An army stretched across infinity, the howls of an endless horde bearing down upon the world. What we witnessed was beyond strength, and wisdom. Beyond the paths, and valoa. Beyond mortals, and gods.

What we saw was our end.

“No. We will not fall. I will not allow it.”

The voice swept across the entirety of Nahcari, familiar and strong.

Forza. A spark of hope bloomed within me.

In the depths of the terror above, a flash of red light blazed out defiantly. Brighter than the sun, an unbreakable spirit dared to confront the unstoppable, his spirit unshattered by fear. The figure launched into the fray, roaring as he breached the endless tides of monstrosities.

And he wasn’t alone.

Three others rose above all, beacons of gold, green, and blue. As one, they unleashed their might, and the world trembled at the weight of their existence. The winds screamed, and the skies howled, but the trio bore nature no heed, for they were above it.

Like a proclamation to the world, their ascent was followed by a trail of lights. Each one was a person of Nahcari, soldiers and civilians both. Thousands became millions, and millions became tens of millions. Assembled across the skies, they formed a sea of stars that shone bright against the never-ending enemy. Some were brilliant, and others dim, yet all strode forth without hesitation.

They wouldn’t succeed. They couldn’t. But all were willing to give their lives to protect their world.

That was what it meant to walk the paths.

War scoured the sky as titans clashed and claws met flesh. A rain of blood fell from the cloudless heavens, but not a single enemy passed through. The lights were a sanctuary of protection, guarding those that lay below from all that would hurt them.

It isn’t enough.

As the thought crossed my mind, I saw it reflected in the faces of the people around me. The enemy pressed forward relentlessly, throwing themselves into the fray with reckless abandon. With each passing second, they gained more ground, edging closer to the world they sought to conquer.

“Enough.”

Forza, paragon of Violence, rose above the enemies and catapulted into the abyss beyond. He halted and gazed up at the hundred orbs that housed the enemy, each one a gargantuan monolith that eternally watched Nahcari without emotion.

He raised his hands toward the orbs, and reality twisted and writhed as a red light bloomed into existence within his palms. The radiance spread across his body, cascading out across the empty expanse of space, tearing apart reality wherever it touched.

The enemy turned to him, screeching in fury and fear. But as they leapt toward him, their claws outstretched, they were stopped by an impenetrable wall of his allies, each risking their lives to buy him time.

None could touch him.

The light reached the first of the orbs, severing its underbelly and cutting deep into its bowls, and Forza shifted, his body swaying precariously. Still, he continued, an ocean of lights striking the enemy.

Two. Ten. Twenty. One by one the orbs felt their touch, their metal shells screaming as they were shorn and torn to their foundations. Their shattered fragments collapsed into nothingness, the void consuming all.

In their place was a rift that teared through reality.

Swathes of darkness rippled within it, the void forming an impenetrable shield against those that would harm Nahcari.

Finally, Forza turned around toward the enemy below, and with a firm push he spent the last vestiges of his valoa, twisting the space in front of him, pulling it apart. Energy pulsed out, bearing the strength of a deity.

The valoa swamped the army that sought to bring Nahcari to its knees, and when they were ready, they brightened, impossibly radiant, and exploded, scattering their enemies into ashes. For a moment the lights blinded all that looked at them, obscuring creation itself.

Then the valoa dimmed, falling from the air into the world below.

In their place was an empty sky.

“DADDY.”

Kynari’s scream tore at my soul.

Her cry was drowned out as shouts of celebration erupted across the city. I wrapped my arms around her, bringing her back into the dungeon below as Teshima closed the passageway behind us, my heart sinking further each step I took.

****

The next few days were a blur. Countless tears fell, and there was anger and joy in equal mixes. The cloud layer was being repaired, and stalwartly defending it was the rift in the stars, protecting all in Nahcari from their enemies. The world had gained a respite, a rare peace flourishing where fear had once claimed dominance.

But the celebrations were short lived. Viewer numbers were rising. Not steadily, and not slowly, but instead rocketing upward. Hundreds of millions of new viewers spread across the world after the battle.

It was a phenomenon occurring all across Nahcari.

Some thought they were new. Others refused to believe the enemy could hide such huge forces.

“What if these viewers were already here, watching someone who hid their numbers?”

The whisper started as a rumor, and as it spread across Nahcari, it quickly became fact. Even if his body had never been found, there was only one person who could have held the attention of so many viewers, and there was only one reason why they would stop watching him.

Forza, the paragon of violence, was dead.