“The Sector was destroyed by the summoning,” said a cloaked man into his communicator, hidden by total darkness.

An aged voice returned to him an order, “Good. The sacrifice worked well, then. A shame the Praetor’s daughter died, but no matter. Commence stage two. Elize shall have no reinforcements, political or otherwise. We cannot allow a Head-Praetor contender like her any leeway. Start the search for the MD’s entrance.”

The shadowed figure nodded and hung up, not wasting a moment before departing the alleyway. His eyes scanned the busy airway above, finding a lithe ship that he could take toward the Lost Reaches.

* A nightmare forgotten by Judge Vermillion upon his awakening.

Dante’s hands cradled a cup of freezing coffee, the blood in his veins slowed by the snowy-breathed nature of the figure sitting beside him. Both the human and the Anathema were silent in their office chairs, listening to the terrifying woman before them.

The Bloody Memory, or as she referred to herself, Thanaris, situated herself on the Baron’s desk before crossing a leg, peering directly into Dante and the Dirge that provided her the nutrients to reawaken. Her lips twisted ironically, filled with a cruel enjoyment of their plights, “These planets are so... dull... I can’t believe you fleshies actually live this way.” Thanaris’ hand dryly knocked a trophy off the desk, the expensive object splintering upon the floor.

Unable to raise the cup of fluid to his lips with the situation presented before him, Dante asked a question while his mind ticked at the hours he had left before he lost his mind. And he knew he would, “This... Miss Thanaris, Bloody Memory? I—”

“I would like to be called Caesar Thanaris. Feels... nice and bloody,” Thanaris declared without negotiation.

Dante, interrupted by the Caesar, still found his rhythm with Nullify granting him the ability to shrug off the lethal glare provided to him.

“Right. Caesar Thanaris. This... is not what I was expecting. Are... what are we doing? Here? In this room?” Dante asked, motioning to the surroundings of the Baron’s office with one hand, while Astraeus shook with a lowered head.

The human was unsure what the issue plaguing the Anathema was, but he was sure it would befall him shortly. Yet, Dante’s attention never wholly landed on Astraeus as Thanaris dropped herself from the desk, her feet wrapped in crimson slippers grinding into the floor with a screech.

After striding close to him, the female creature brought a finger against the human’s chin with a hum, “Hmm? What did you want to be? A slave? In a cage? I can fulfill your wish if that is what you desire, but as I said, I dislike slaves. There are many reasons, but if you need to have one for the pretty little squishy in your head, you will work harder outside of slavery than in it.”

Dante sat eerily still, every muscle in his body clamping down out of stress and panic against such an abominable being, yet he spoke anyway, not a single shiver in his voice, “I suppose that makes sense. But what are we doing? Did you kill all the people here just because you enjoyed it? If you truly wished to spread outward, then they would be...”

The human had some part in the back of his mind hesitate, but he pushed through it effortlessly with the drug affecting his brain, “...they would be better as hostages. Force the Empire that rules to capitulate or lose its highly profitable planet.”

A grim smile crashed onto Thanaris’ lips as she scratched Dante’s chin lightly, leaving a thin trail of vermillion to slide down his flesh. Her sanguineous orbs bowed to stare into the human’s dilated pupils, “See? I’m glad I left you alive. Ideas. You have many of them. And... oh? You’re immune to my passive aura? No... I can feel your body trembling. You’re terrified, just like that one over there. He builds resistance after a little. But... you are ignoring it. The emotion. How peculiar. Is it an innate quality? Or... a drug?”

As if inspecting a sample of a product, the woman leaned in close, far too close for comfort with such a dangerous figure. Dante, however, while trembling, had the blessing of his most hated enemy.

Lying would only get him killed. Honesty had a chance at survival and more. So much more. He spoke as he only could, “Yes. It is a drug. Called Nullify. Dampens emotions to give one an edge. I take ten times the standard dose. Such volume eliminates nearly all emotions.”

A peal of laughter burned into Dante’s ears as Thanaris whipped backward, hugging her stomach through her midnight maroon dress, “That’s incredible! Handicapping yourself!? And... tell me... did you fight like this? Without emotions?”

Dante’s eyebrows rose, not understanding the motion presented to him immediately. After a second, however, the robotic nature of his mind made the details clear.

Negative emotions power the Lightsea and Dirge. But... maybe they aren’t just the negative ones. Emotions. That means... Stigmata and one’s connection to the Lightsea itself are reinforced by emotions? That... makes sense. Sonna was the first to access her element, and she’s very emotional. I only managed to use water when I was off the drug. That... that’s why I couldn’t before! It messed with me!

“No. I did not fight under the chem. But I see how it has affected my growth. Again, I ask, what are we doing here?” Dante attempted to swerve the conversation to something other than himself, yet he failed.

Thanaris found him to be fantastically intriguing, “Hmm... I sense you’ve stolen my home’s strength for just a scant few days. How about this? I train you, the first human to be honored in such a way, and you work for me. That shall be your payment.”

The human nodded, not having any option to refuse, but he found some pieces lacking, “What about food? Sustenance? Travel? How will these things work?”

In order to answer him, Thanaris sashayed to the window, yanking it open with her bloody fingernails, staining the white fabric yet not lessening the carmine on her in the slightest, “There is an entire city for you. Anarchies can be sent out to scavenge for you. At least the feeble-minded can provide some help. Most of your technology is… ruined, however.”

Everything felt bizarre to Dante, even through the drug in his system. Such a creature speaking to him in these ways was incomprehensible. While he wasn’t panicking in his mind, he understood the oddness of it all.

While rising slowly and stealing a sip of his coffee to soothe his throat and provide some energy, Dante walked over to the Caesar. He glanced backward at the frozen Astraeus, the Frigo capable of conjuring snow, unable to move in the slightest out of fear.

Once beside Thanaris, Dante peered at her with the utmost cautionary respect. He never wanted to push anything too far. It was always a simple glance, just enough to gather information and not cause alarm. With that, he witnessed how her eyes fanned out across the city with greed, and he grew perplexed.

“Why do you do this? Kill them all? For what purpose? You do not seem... irrational or absurd. If anything, you are harshly clever. Why? Why do any of you do this?” Dante looked up at the woman, presenting a formidable question.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Caesar Thanaris faced him. As she did so, her entirety spread out as the human felt the Lightsea well up and shiver. The extra-dimensional force impacted reality, forcing itself into this world. With awe, Dante observed blood coagulate and form atop Thanaris’ single raised fingertip.

The crimson warped and wriggled before condensing, turning into a deeper shade that gradually grew toward utter darkness. Yet, it stopped at a midnight pigment, with hints of red lingering.

The woman’s voice turned educational, shifting from the sensual, violent tone, “You know so little. I almost envy you. This is the seventh category of Tide. No. It is not blood. It is Unnatural. Those of us who wield it are named Necto, just as those who wield ice are Cryo, and those with water are Hydro. Rare yet not necessarily powerful, it spans any liquid that can exist. Mine is blood. If you do not unlock Necto upon your first usage of your Tide, then you will never unlock it.”

Frustration would have already surged forth from the human had the drug not robbed him of such things. Instead, he was patient, allowing Thanaris to continue lecturing him. The woman strode over to Astraeus before tapping the droplet of blood onto the Anathema’s forehead.

Immediately, Astraeus gasped aloud, grasping his chest as if having a heart attack. The Caesar ignored his case, however, “My blood is versatile. Able to heal, enhance, attack, defend, spread, etcetera. It is like water, only it sabotages me to use it, and it can turn into gaseous. I sense you are a Hydro, no? Your personality fits one to a tee. Adaptable and resourceful are those who use water. Not at all like those brutish Cryos. At least this one is in the middle.”

As she referenced Astraeus, the Caesar woke him up with a start. Astraeus bowed his head, apologizing profusely. He was unlike the force of terror Dante had seen before, “I am sorry, Master! I will do better!”

If Dante had the humor to laugh, he would have doubled over in joy at seeing the Anathema in such a predicament. Still, Thanaris didn’t seem to care. With a brief flick of her hand, she created another orb of blood before swiping her palm, “Just be silent for now. We’ll talk later. Dante, we are here to provide you with your new home. You can sleep here for the time being. Astraeus, you, too. I need some time to gather blood before we move on.”

A second later, an explosive blast of blood directly obliterated the Baron’s desk, sending splinters into the wall.

The human nodded while stepping away from the sudden debris. He could tell blood fueled her Tide. If she had to collect it, that meant she only had a limited amount at her disposal. Sure, it was likely a massive quantity, but it was still finite. That wasn’t the case with the other elements.

Dante locked onto it in his mind. A weakness. Impossible to take advantage of now, but he would have time.

“That makes sense. How long will that be? And after, will we make a move?” Dante asked as seconds ticked further while he thought of the future.

Thanaris condemned him to an impossible task without concern, “A week. Maybe two. Could be a month. This planet was pretty big. A lot of mass. After... there is an opportunity nearby that I wish to exploit. No. That I must. You and Astraeus will dive into it for me while I contest with some others. Don’t worry, for now, sweetheart. I’ll tell you more later.”

Still bearing a grin on her cheeks, the woman clattered out of the room but wrapped her palm around the doorway before leaving. Her head twisted to whisper out something that possessed infinite meanings to Dante, “You have your world, Dante. I have mine. You would do anything to save yours, no?”

With that information, Dante’s mind was left to wriggle, and Thanaris departed the room completely, knowing better than to be called back for answers to the many questions the confused man had. Instead, he glanced over at Astraeus, the Dirge still shivering as if his own snow chilled him.

“What did she mean by that?” Dante’s question was blunt, drilling into the Anathema’s fear. It only appeared to piss Astraeus off, however.

“Fuck off. How am I supposed to know? Let her tell you. Master knows what she’s doing. Probably,” Astraeus’ legs stomped toward the exit, but Dante shouted at him before he could slip out.

“Where do you think you’re going? She told us to stay here. And... we’re stuck together. Might as well work together,” Dante held out an open palm, offering a handshake to the monster he had previously fought. He knew all too well how much he would hate himself for such a thing in a few hours.

Thankfully, to the future Dante, Astraeus wanted nothing to do with him, stating, “No. Just ‘cause you won once doesn’t mean I’ll keel over for you. You weren’t even the main blade. I could kill you in a second… but I won’t because Master likes you.”

Despite shaking his head, the human persisted in trying to prevent himself from having zero allies in such a place, “Come on. You saw how well I worked with those guys, right? I didn’t know any of them but the Araki. We are stronger together. And if she’s gonna send us out as a pair...”

Dante hedged his bets on what he knew about this Anathema. He seemed pretty competent, if not also prone to anger and violence. After adding what he learned about elements and their personalities, Dante figured that there must be a part of Astraeus that thought critically.

He was soon proven right.

“Fine. You’re right. But I don’t like you. Not even a fucking little. Get in my way, and you’re dead,” Astraeus stepped up close to Dante, placing a warped finger against his chest. The Lightsea he held within him warbled, warning of the Stigmata hidden within that would destroy space.

Unfazed, Dante continued on his path with a nod, “Excellent. Now. What do you mean get in my way? Do you Dirge have ideals? Goals? Beyond simple killing?”

A hand practically gnawed itself against Astraeus’ face as the Anathema struggled to answer Dante. The Dirge had never been asked such a question, “What? I... I guess I want to be strong? I owe Master, so I’ll follow her. What kind of question is that?”

Something ate at Dante’s thoughts. He knew something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t figure out what.

I need more information.

“Then why did you risk your life for Thanaris? Do you not have a higher directive of some kind? Is it for your home? What is that even like? How do you owe her?” Dante prodded further, finding it peculiar how Astraeus’ face twisted in confusion before rage replaced it. Irrational rage.

However, that oddity seemed to only worsen.

“I don’t kn—fuck you! I did it—Ahh... What the hell? What did you ask?” Astraeus seemed to forget what Dante said at all. It was irrational rage continued by bizarreness. The actions and words from the Dirge made no sense, yet Dante attempted to find reason in it, nonetheless.

Memory loss? No. That’s... it’s like mind control. What the fuck? Something... is wrong. Very wrong here. The Dirge with minds can’t talk about themselves? Or where they come from? There is something here. And it makes my skin crawl through the Nullify.

Dante’s eyes stared at Astraeus as the Anathema flipped out and nearly attacked him, halted only an inch away by his own self-control. After peeling his own hand back, the man listened to Dante speak, “I am sorry. Forget whatever I said. It was stupid. Rest up.”

A pair of eyes lingered on Dante before a snort entered the air. Astraeus walked out without another word, trailing his claws along the wall as he left, leaving divots in the wallpaper.

With that, Dante was utterly alone in the bloodied and ruined office. His feet spread outward as he pushed aside some larger pieces of rubble, and he fell into thought.

Dirge aren’t what they seem. They can’t be. It just makes little sense. Some are mindless, just monsters brought into being. But others... they are living, breathing, thinking creatures. The former are nearly identical to our beasts, only... stronger. I know some animals can have powers, too, but… that’s not what Dirge are.

A piece of some puzzle clicked in Dante’s mind, but it fought against everything he’d ever known. His head reeled backward, with his eyes facing the stainless ceiling for clarity.

He spoke into the air with no one to listen but his own ears, “Are they just like us? Their own world. Their own culture. Their own... puppeteers.”

In Dante’s world, the powerful controlled the masses with media, propaganda, promises of safety, and a million other ways. With such things, they wove ideas and conventions onto billions with ease. But... they never manipulated one’s actual mind.

The technology for that was far too expensive and impractical on such a scale. It was impossible. Yet, the Lightsea was different. Powers, abilities, and impossible acts came from it all the time.

Laughter skipped out of Dante’s mouth as the protections of Nullify cracked bit by bit, all the emotions boiling within Dante too much to suppress. The short giggles grew to peals of laughter that brought him to his knees in the broken splinters.

Tears slid their way out of his eyes while Dante realized the universe he lived in was far worse than he had thought. No. He always knew it was this way. He was simply blind before. The liquids dripped to the floor before hovering midway through.

Manipulators. Puppeteers. The creeping leviathans in the background controlled everything. The Congress of the Romans, Ostacean’s Regent, and Glaniece’s Oligarchs were all the same as whatever hid inside the Lightsea. They pulled the weak every which way, without letting them have a word.

As Dante’s mind shattered in such revelations that even the dreams and ambitions he had as a child, young adult, and now meant nothing in the grand scheme of the universe, a man crouched before him. He appeared out of nothingness, looking identical to Dante’s own face, barring those pesky scars.

However, Judas was quiet. He didn’t say a word and only observed the manic human.

“You—you! Are you one of them? The shadow in the dark? Controlling it all? Is that what you’ve been doing? Controlling me? Why else do you only appear now when I make such judgments!?” Dante’s voice grew hoarse as his volume increased, the noise bouncing off the walls and echoing only to himself.

In the end, however, Judas had an answer for him.

The figment within only Dante’s mind lowered himself further to reach the man’s maddened pose and shook his head, “Dante... Dante... Dante... You are but a man. Do not concern yourself with the whims of the players in this great game of chess that has spanned millennia. Just do what you can to survive. And then... if you’re lucky... really fucking lucky... you’ll have a chance to pick up a piece.”