Ethan sat on the edge of Sanctum’s gateway, staring out at the world beyond. The surface stretched endlessly, a dark expanse framed by somber, wind-bent trees. The skies above churned, storm clouds stirring like uneasy memories. He was used to the sight of his underground city by now, the quiet and close-knit safety of its warm light. But here, the world lay open and raw, exposed to the elements and filled with dangers beyond measure. Somewhere out there, Jun’Ei was waiting, her spirit calling to him even from the shadows of his memory.
He closed his eyes, picturing the castle where she was bound—the towering, obsidian walls cloaked in darkness, a place as still and silent as a grave. He’d seen it clearly, each turret and stone etched into his mind as if it were a fragment of his own past. This world had secrets buried in every corner, and that castle held more than most. The thought of leaving Sanctum to face what lay ahead should have unsettled him. But somehow, as he stood there on the precipice of the unknown, he felt a quiet readiness.
A soft shuffle of scales against stone caught his attention. Ethan turned to see Lamphrey, the lizardwoman mage, standing at the edge of the gateway’s shadows, her pale eyes glinting in the twilight. She moved with the silence of a shadow, her cloaked form blending into the dimness, her hands folded serenely before her.
“How does it feel?” she asked, her voice a smooth, curious murmur. “To know that you’ve accepted your role?”
Ethan narrowed his eye, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and caution. He’d learned early on that Lamphrey wasn’t someone to be taken at face value. Her knowledge and strange magic had been invaluable, but he sensed there was always a deeper game at play with her. “I’m ready for it,” he replied simply. “More ready than I was. And I owe you one, by the way.” He nodded to her, his expression lightening just slightly. “For the Memory Rune you gave me back at Klax’s celebration.”
Lamphrey’s scaled face tilted, her mouth curving into a faint, knowing smile. “You seemed like the right candidate to bear it, my Lord.”
Ethan arched a thread brow, catching the subtlety of her words. “Did you know Jun’Ei would reach out through it?”
Lamphrey’s gaze drifted over the dark landscape beyond Sanctum, her eyes reflecting the shadows. “In the service of Lady Gyko, I was shown many spells that were…unorthodox.” Her voice dropped, smooth and almost reverent. “In my studies, I found the Archons to be an eternal mystery, each bound and twisted by forces far greater than themselves. Knowledge of those forces has its dangers, but it also has its uses.” She looked back at him, her gaze unwavering. “I believe I will be of great use to you, Archon. If you will allow me to join your ranks.”
Ethan’s eye met hers, his mind turning over her words. “You want to come with us? Why?”
She let the question hang in the air, her silence an answer in itself. Instead of responding, she smiled.
“Perhaps it would be more fitting, Archon, to direct your attention to the upgrades this journey will soon demand of you.”
Ethan scoffed. “Upgrades? I’ve barely got a handful of Spirit Cores left after all that.” He was about to laugh when a small ding echoed in his mind, and a new notification appeared in his field of vision:
+3000 Spirit Cores Gained
Enemy: [Greycloak] CARLIAH ARGENT
Status: Slain
He blinked, absorbing the sudden and unexpected windfall.
So we got her, he murmured to himself. Or…to be more precise, you got her, old Arty. You finally did the job Kaedmon made you for, huh.
He tore his thoughts away from those regarding his old foe and his gaze flicked back to Lamphrey, who watched him with a serene expression and the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. She met his questioning look with a slow, knowing blink, then lifted a finger to her scaled mouth.
“Some secrets,” she whispered, “we mages must keep for ourselves, my Lord.”
Ethan’s brow furrowed, but before he could press her further, he heard the familiar voices of his companions. Klax, Tara, and Fauna were approaching, each carrying supplies and gear for the journey ahead. Fauna’s bag was laden with herbs and potions; Klax had bundles of bandages and provisions; and Tara held a small, gleaming item wrapped in cloth.
“Hey, you sitting up there all heroic-like?” Tara smirked as she reached him, brandishing the cloth-wrapped object with a flourish. “Got something that’s going to make you look even more legendary.”
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Unwrapping it with a dramatic flair, she held out a new Onixia blade, forged by Borlor himself after only a single night of toil in his forge with the blood of the Greycloak Commander. The weapon gleamed a brilliant shade of deep blue, its serrated edges catching the faint light of the surface sky. It looked fierce, as if it could slice through shadow and stone with equal ease. Ethan’s eyes widened as he took it in, feeling the weight and power of the weapon even though he currently had no hands with which to hold it.
“Well, Archon?” Klax said, a gleam of pride in his eyes. “What’ll you name it?”
Ethan watched the way the light glinted along its edge. “Why not… ‘Greybane’?”
A murmur of approval passed through the group, and Tara let out a small cheer, already imagining the tales she’d spin about their adventures with Greybane leading the charge (embellishing a few details about the number of humans viciously slaughtered with the blade). Klax nodded approvingly, a rumbling laugh echoing from his chest, while Fauna’s soft smile grew a touch wider.
Ethan appraised the blade, seeing it practically vibrate with power as Klax placed it reverently before him.
Object: [UNIQUE] longsword: GREYBANE [Onixia]
DMG: 150 x3 vs Enemy type: [Greycloak]
That…yeah, that’ll do it, he thought as his eyes traced the perfectly forged edges of the blade. Borlor, you’re a mad genius.
“First order of business,” Tara sniggered as he stashed the blade away in his hatty bowels. “We’re gonna have to find you something with opposable thumbs to see ya use that thing. There’s a whole damn world out there for us to play in, now. Can’t be too hard to find an appropriate little beastie for our old Archon to work his magic.”
“You know our mission, Tara,” Klax reminded her. “We find Jun’Ei, we find the means to break Kaedmon’s Law and free this place.”
“Then we make the surface ours again,” Tara smirked.
“Everyone’s,” Fauna corrected.
“I know, I know,” the Minxit giggled. “But who’s to say we can’t have just a little fun on the way?”
The party shared a collective sigh. Somehow, that girl hadn’t changed a bit.
But Ethan had. And, though he was ready to move on, he still had just one doubt in his mind.
“You know, if—when—old Arty breaks out, he’s gonna come for us, and for the rest of Sanctum,” Ethan told them. “You guys sure you wanna come with me?”
They all blinked in unison, and even as the words left his hatty mouth, Ethan realized how dumb the question was.
“You serious?” Tara scoffed. “Where the hell would you be without your posse of badass hybrids?”
“And who will be there to remind you that you’re on the right path?” Fauna chimed in, a little sparkle of magical energy swirling as she winked.
“We’re in this together, Ethan,” Klax nodded down at him. “No matter what. Sanctum will hold strong until we return as its saviors. When we do come back, they will be coming up here with us.”
Ethan shared a chuckle with them. “I’d have it no other way. There’s no party of crazy butt-kicking anthro-guys and gals that I’d rather set the world on fire with.”
Lamphrey quickly gave a little cough beside him.
“Oh, and on that note—”
With a graceful bow, Lamphrey stepped forward, and Ethan cleared his throat, addressing the group. “Lamphrey here will be joining us from now on. Her skills in magic and knowledge could be exactly what we need for what’s coming next.”
Klax nodded respectfully, his gaze acknowledging the lizardwoman with an approving glance. “Welcome to the party, then. Just remember, we’re the ragtag misfits, not the glamorous Greycloaks.”
Tara raised an eyebrow, her grin wry. “Glad to have someone with a few more tricks up her sleeves. Could always use another wildcard.”
Fauna, however, regarded Lamphrey with a subtle wariness. Though she said nothing, the look she shared with the mage was one of quiet caution, as if sensing the layers of hidden secrets beneath Lamphrey’s calm exterior. Still, she offered a small, polite nod, though her eyes remained thoughtful.
As the wind picked up, Ethan cast a final glance out at the looming nightscape of Argwyll. He felt the weight of Greybane in his inventory, a solid reminder of the battles that lay ahead, and the weight of the crown that now rested upon him as Archon.
He grinned at his companions, a spark of mischief and determination in his eye. “Guess we’re just getting started.”
He knew his old archfoe wouldn’t stay trapped for long. The portals were closed. The Greycloak leader was dead. Their forces would probably be in disarray. But what happened if Jun’Ei met with an untimely end before they got to her? What if the wardens of Griffon’s Watch knew they were coming already? With her death, the portals would be back in action. And that would let the Lightborn just walk right back out to his freedom, and his vengeance.
Because next time they met, Ethan got the sense that it would be the last.
You worry too much, you know that?
Ethan couldn’t help but laugh. Coming from you, that’s rich.
This System…I…am built to worry for you, you know.
Focus on what you do best—killing and progressing. Let me handle the rest.
“Sys is right, y’know,” Tara nudged as she hopped on a stone wall of Sanctum’s ruined surface beside him. “If you ain’t learned to lean on others yet, you ain’t been paying attention, Mr. Archon.”
Ethan looked at his companions as they crowded round him—Klax, Fauna, Tara, and now Lamphrey—and thought about how simple life could have been back home if he’d realized sooner that all the solutions to his problems were right there in front of him the whole time. But then, you can’t see something you don’t know how to look for. The past was the past. Earth was gone, Argwyll was the here and now. He couldn’t go back even if he wanted to. And, if he was given the choice, he’d laugh right in the face of the dumb God who offered it.
So instead, he looked towards the horizon, seeing a few patches of clear blue emerge in the stormy bowels of the sky.
Before him, Argwyll was waiting.