“Nu-huh! It is you who has been outfoxed!” I said. “Read Asop’s fable about crow and fox next time!”

“No you,” Vespera laughed, tackling me and burying me in nuzzles.

“No you. I now own half of your SimmiTech shares,” I said.

“Joke’s on you, I don’t own any shares while my father’s alive,” she mauled me harder.

“Joke’s on you, I don’t own anything on paper, Emmy does!” I laughed. “The Guildmaster and I have a verbal agreement.”

Vespera collapsed onto me in a fit of laughter.

Cinder rolled her eyes at us.

My Quartermaster tag vibrated. I accepted the call, glancing at the caller's ID.

"Hi Sovereign," I said. “Sup?”

"Lord Protector," Lady Astra's voice purred from the tag. "Why is my city on fire?"

"It's not on fire," I said. "It only looks like it's on fire, but it's actually perfectly legal renovations happening on the land our Guildmaster leased from the Highborn Lords of Shandria.”

"Really?" Cedez's voice dripped with amusement. "And I suppose that Infix Mage Tower just happened to fall onto the Arx Bank by complete accident?"

"Complete accident," I nodded. "Terrible construction standards these days. Someone should really look into that."

"Uh-huh," she said. "And the mass panic about a necromantic invasion?"

"People are so quick to jump to conclusions," I sighed dramatically. "One little tower falls, some renovation happens and suddenly everyone thinks it's the end of the world."

"Right," she sighed. "What happened to the Frostix Kitlix?"

"I bought them," I said.

"ALL of them?!" Cedez demanded.

"Yes," I said. "I happen to own lots of land in Undertown and if you forgot it's currently infested with Duskbloom."

"Are you running some kind of a Kitlix pyramid scheme?" She demanded.

"It's not a scheme," I said. "It's a legitimate Frostix Kitlix rental business with legitimate stock options available to all wealthy mages interested in protecting themselves from future Duskbloom incidents. We also sell insurance against necromantic invasions."

"I see," Cedez's voice danced between mild amusement and exasperation. "And I suppose the massive, indestructible crystalline beast that just turned most of central square and several streets has nothing to do with you either?"

"Miss Possible is just out for a stroll," I said. "I took her out for a walk.”

"Miss... Possible?" Cedez repeated slowly.

"She's very friendly," I assured her. "Just needs some exercise after being cooped up in a damp underground chapel for so long."

"You're lucky that you're such a cutie," Cedez laughed. "Or we'd have serious words."

"I'm just happy to work with such a cute Sovereign," I fired back with the same tone. "Give Remy and Dave big smooches for me."

"Stop flirting with the Sovereign of Shandria," Cinder hiss-growled, her feathers shifting through jealous greens.

"Why? She's adorable," I grinned. "Like a deadly, cute shadow-fox."

"You..." Cinder began, but was interrupted by another explosion, the sound coming from wherever Cedez was.

"Speaking of explosions," Cedez's voice came through the tag, "how many buildings are you planning to 'renovate' today?"

"Just enough to make room for progress," I said. "We shook hands on it. I promised to help you renovate and to clean up the city. I fulfil all of my promises, Sovereign.”

"You're moving awfully fast," Cedez commented.

"What can I say," I shrugged. "I'm on a deadline."

"Right then," Cedez laughed again. "Carry on. Try to keep collateral damage at a minimum."

"Can do," I smiled and hung up.

"Your relationship with the Sovereign is... concerning," Cinder said, her feathers shifting through suspicious oranges.

"Eh," I shrugged. "I'm just being nice. She's like my interdimensional sister or something, don't be jelly."

Cinder sighed, leaning back on the couch.

. . .

"Speaking of interdimensional beings," I stretched on the couch. "I've been meaning to ask - what's the deal with Arx inhabitants? Like, is there any fundamental difference between, say, the owlish cafe maid and a Thunderbird?"

"Ah, ah!" Vespera rolled off my lap, stretching and bending like a ballet dancer. "I know this one! We went through it in Dr. Greyfield's Advanced Xenobiology last semester!"

"Wasn't here last semester," I nodded. "Please educate me, professor wise birb."

"The main difference," Vespera clicked, sending sparks dancing across her magisteel-clad talons, "is that Arx inhabitants are native to this realm. Their biology is completely adapted to the local Astral and aetheric density. They can't function outside of Arx like us Omnids.”

I nodded.

"Lets begin with the basics," Vespera walked over to Cinder and pawed at her wings.

A transparent human male manifested in front of us in the farm living room, looking somewhat like me.

"Hey!" Cinder whined. "What are you..."

"Shh," Vee commented. "Don't interrupt your instructor-birb, overhead projector girl."

"I'm not a freaking projector!" Cinder growled. I began massaging her shoulders and she calmed down slightly, leaning against me and grumbling under her breath.

"This lecture is for you too, dragon-bae," Vespera pointed out. "Pretty sure you skipped like half of Omnid anatomy classes."

“Whatever,” Cinder crossed her arms.

Vespera walked around the projection of the human.

"Homo Sapiens! Humans come in several types across a multitude of worlds tied to Omnithornia via dimensional gates," she explained. "Base Earth-O1 humans, aka humans from Omnithornia and surrounding nations don't have heart cores, can't use magic and can't level up normally. Their souls are weak. They're incredibly easy to break."

Cinder wrapped her wing around me protectively.

"Humans of Arx are different," Vespera clicked. "They appear similar to humans from Omnithornia, but are internally magically-augmented from birth or from the moment of their summoning. They have heart-cores which grow with time, aligning them to a VERY specific magic skill."

Vee grabbed Cinder.

A brilliant sphere manifested inside of the projection of a human male. Then, the projection began to age, the core inside them growing bigger and bigger, until the human turned into a bloated, fat, grotesque figure.

"When Arx-Humans reach one hundred years of age," Vespera clicked. "Their heart core becomes so big that they can barely move. It occupies most of their stomachs. Unless the human is constantly healed by mages, they gradually go insane and die in horrible agony as their stomach busts."

I winced as the human exploded and only the massive heartcore remained.

"The core remains after death," Vespera said. "and it forms a dungeon, unless it's ground into dust and used as fuel for something."

"So that's why dungeons are filled with Sentinels and other creepy things?" I asked.

"Various monsters and beasts are born from the human's dying wishes," Vespera nodded. The projection cast by Cinder’s wings changed to show various dungeon monsters. "The human heart-core becomes the dungeon core, powering and half-assly coordinating everything inside the dungeon to murder everything nearby. Sentinels are Arx inhabitants that die in the dungeon and become infected."

She grabbed Cinder again and a foxgirl appeared next to the dungeon core.

"Arx-kin inhabitants are known as Entrosis Sapiens, low order entropic beings," Vespera narrated. "Basically, they’re humans afflicted, gradually changed by entropic magic. Humans twisted by a particular magical affinity over generations. This affinity can be anything - fox, dragon, metal, wood, shadow, cat, dog, elk, stone, etc. Their heart cores are smaller than human ones and better integrated into their bodies, so they're less prone to insanity. They also die at one hundred years of age when their heart cores get too big and become a dungeon on Arx.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"One hundred years old?" I asked. "Seems... specific."

"There are a lot of specific things about Arx," Vespera agreed. "Many Omnid researchers believe that this gigastructure was designed with very specific parameters in mind and that violating these parameters results in the researcher dying horribly."

"Is Arx alive then?" I asked.

"Perhaps," Vee shrugged. She snapped her talons and a human male and foxgirl appeared, reaching out towards each other in a kiss.

"Arx humans can't mix with Arx-kin safely," Vee said. "The magical affinity present in an Arx-kin gradually kills the human."

"What?" I blinked as a violet stream rushed from the fox into the human and he fell over and died, an animated X.X appearing on his face.

"Yep," Vespera clicked. "The magic from the Arx-kin gradually poisons the Arx-born human body. Depending on exposure levels the human can die in a month to a few years unless they’re constantly healed. That's why Arx-kin and Highborn human Lords of Shandria generally do not mix."

"Then Lord David…" I began.

"Has a Vitalix Kitlix on him for a reason," Vee nodded. "He's constantly healing himself. Having a Sentinel Shadow-fox and a pathosteel dragon girlfriend is literally killing him."

"That's... Unfortunate," I commented.

"If I were to write a story about David," Vee mused. "I would call it Unlimited Isekai and Other Unfortunate Magic. Humans like him are summoned to Arx in vast numbers and perish even faster, bones ground to build pyramids."

"Pyramids?" I blinked.

"Zalimar took us to the Gold Dragon God Emperor's Citadel 117 on a field trip," Cinder hissed from where she was sitting. "Everything there was built by people... FROM people. It was..."

"Revolting," Vespera finished. "Instructor Zalimar found it amusing, but I still have horrible flashbacks to that place. Bleh."

"Am I going to grow a core that will kill me at one hundred?" I asked.

"I don't know," Vespera sighed. "You're the first human from Omnithornia brought to Arx. There's no precedent. Plus you're incredibly effed in general. You have a four-fold soul, which I've never seen in anyone. Abyss, maybe you'll grow four cores! I’m not a doctor!”

Cinder flared with crimson feathers.

"Yes, pupil Cinderella?" Vespera tilted her head. "Do you have a question?"

"Is... Martin going to die at one hundred?" Cinder let out. "Is he going to go insane when his heart core grows too big, turning into that bloated monster thing?!"

"Lexy has a Lazarus bracelet," Vespera pointed out. "If he dies often enough, the Genesis well will optimize his body towards..."

"Towards what?" Cinder demanded.

"I don't know," Vespera let out. "I’m not a Genesis architect. He's the first human with access to an incarnator. The first human claimed by two Omnid girls. There's literally no precedent here, like I said."

Cinder frowned.

"Which brings us to the Omnids," Vespera clicked. She grabbed Cinder for a few seconds and a projection of Cinder and Vespera bloomed beside the human holo of me.

"Omnithis Sapiens," Vespera waved her talons at the hologram. "Little gods. Cryptids as some humans call us. Taller, stronger, faster, more magically potent than all known baseline humanoids. Two females are born for every male, so triangular Prima and Hearth ‘ships are the most common type of family structure.”

I nodded.

“Unlike Arx inhabitants, Omnids are born in areas of relatively low aetheric density. Some say this makes us incredibly capable in terms of magic, sort of like humans born in high altitudes who can run around longer than humans born closer to the sea. Omnid heartcores grow with us, dimensionally adapting to our environment, our skills, our experiences."

The projection of Vespera zoomed into her heart core.

"An Omnid’s Heartcore is the highest known order of Syntropic magic," Vespera clicked. "Fractal Engine hearts, capable of feeding on belief. We define ourselves as theoretically limitless, perfect beings. Aligned to an idea, to belief, can feed on fear, can eat memetics for breakfast, can go anywhere across the omniverse."

"Anywhere?" I asked skeptically.

"Anywhere," Vespera nodded. "An Omnid can survive any world regardless of aetheric density."

"Emerald melted," I pointed out.

"I'm talking about living worlds," Vespera said. "Not corpse worlds. Omnids don't have a hard age limit like Arx inhabitants. Our cores can theoretically grow indefinitely, fold into themselves like a fractal. Some Omnid elders like Zalimar and Keeper Vassily are thousands of years old, and are high level enough that they don't need an Incarnator to keep going. They just don't die, can't be killed, always return. Their Fractal Engine heart core is part of their soul, immutable, no longer physical."

I rubbed my chin. Cinder stared at me.

"You and I, Ci," Vespera said. "We're highest order Syntropic beings, god-adjacent-living ideas in shells of flesh. As divine-tier Omnids who feed on belief, we are going to keep going forever, not going to age for centuries, maybe millenia. Lex won't. Are you ready for this possibility?"

Cinder's feathers shifted through a complex array of colors - blues of uncertainty, pinks of affection, grays of worry.

"Forever is a long time," she whispered.

"Yep," Vespera clicked. "And our 18 year old human disaster is only going to last maybe... 60-80 years? If we're lucky and he doesn't get himself killed doing something stupid?"

"Hey," I protested.

"Shush," both Omnids said simultaneously.

Cinder looked between me and Vee. "Why...?"

"I'm having fun with Lexy," Vee said. "But this fun can't last forever."

"What are you saying, you damned bird?" Cinder growled. "That he's just going to die from old age, while we.... move on?!"

"No," Vespera clicked softly. "I'm saying we have to make our time with Lexy count. Every. Single second, week, month, year. Tick, tick, tick."

Cinder's feathers shifted through a complex tapestry of emotions, blues rising to be replaced with oranges and pinks, then golds and silvers momentarily drowning in blacks. Then, impossible, alien colors ignited across her feathers, melting my mind.

"I... refuse," Cinder stood up.

"You what?" Vespera tilted her head.

"I refuse to lose him!" Cinder barked. Rainbows ignited across the air around her.

"Humans are... easily devoured by entropy," Vespera shrugged with a nonchalant expression. "Them's the beans, Ci."

"Not this one," Cinder declared, her feathers blazing and melting my thoughts. "Not Martin! Not ever!”

Vespera tilted her head, electrical sparks dancing between her feathers. "And how exactly do you plan to prevent entropy from consuming a human?"

"I'll punch entropy in the face if I have to!" Cinder growled, the air around her bending into rainbows.

"You're goin’ to find entropy and clock it in the head?" Vespera asked playfully.

"Absolutely," Cinder declared. "I'll find a way. I'll break every single rule if I have to. I'll learn every single magic system. I'll crack the code of incarnation. I'll figure out how to keep him alive forever!"

Vespera's wings spread wide, sparkled with electricity, her talons sending tiny arcs dancing across the room. "Well now," she laughed. "Look who's finally taking ownership of her power. Look who's finally standing up and admitting it!"

"I'm not losing him," Cinder repeated, her voice low and dangerous. "Not to time. Not to entropy. Not to anything."

Vespera reached out and hugged Cinder. "That's what I wanted to hear, Ci. I wanted to make sure that you're in all the way here."

"Obviously, I'm bloody in, you effing knob-bird," Cinder growled. "It's just... I'm not some shallow beerch who's just going to constantly fawn over him like he's made of solid gold!"

"Didn't you just promise to fight entropy itself for our little fox?" Vee purred.

"I... that's different!" Cinder sputtered, her feathers shifting through embarrassed pinks. "I'm just saying I won't let him die! He's my... he's my friend!"

"Aww," I grinned. "My rainbow-dragon fren' wants to keep me forever."

"I'm not keeping you forever!" Cinder protested, her feathers flashing through embarrassed pinks and defensive oranges. "I just... I don't want you to die in sixty years! There's a difference!"

"Sure there is," Vespera laughed. "Just like there's a difference between 'not engaged' and 'waiting for the right moment to say yes.'"

"STOP THAT!" Cinder squawked. "You two are always pushing me into things! Push, push, push, that's all you do!"

"Yeah," I stretched on the couch. "We're horrible. Always pushing you to admit your feelings, to be yourself, to fight entropy."

"Shut up," Cinder growled, but her feathers betrayed her with flashes of pink.

"Make me," I grinned.

She lunged at me, pinning me to the couch. "You... you..."

"Me?" I asked innocently.

"I hate you," she declared, but her wings wrapped around me protectively. "I hate you both so much. You're both terrible and awful and just don't stop."

"Hey," I protested. "I'm not running anywhere. I'm peacefully inhabiting a couch."

"Not anymore," Cinder growled, lifting me up like a kitten. "You're coming with me."

"Where are we going?" I asked as she carried me towards the farmhouse door.

"To inspect MY farm," she declared. "Since you bought it for me without asking."

"Vee, I'm being kidnapped!" I complained.

"Have fun!" Vespera called after us. "I'll keep Miss Possible company for a bit, make sure the ol' girl doesn't fall apart, then join ya.”

Cinder carried me outside into the afternoon sunlight. The wheat field swayed in the breeze, golden stalks dancing like waves.

The Agrilopods were still at work, their long tentacles carefully gathering fallen branches and debris. Larry and Nilli had retreated to a distant field now.

"It really is a nice farm," I commented as Cinder carried me through the wheat.

"Shut up," she growled.

"The gothic Victorian farmhouse definitely has potential," I continued. "We could paint it black, add some gargoyles..."

"I said shut up!" She shook me.

"Maybe add a crow's nest on..." I began and then the ground under us gave way as Cinder took off.

I yelped, clinging to her as her rainbow-wings beat.

We soared upward, the farmhouse and fields shrinking beneath us. The sun caught Cinder's feathers, sending prismatic reflections dancing across the air.

"This is payback for buying me a farm without asking, isn't it?" I asked as we climbed higher.

"Maybe," she said, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice. "Are you scared of heights?"

"Maybe," I dug into her harder. "Just a little. More like scared of infinity."

The wind rushed past us as Cinder banked, circling over the property. From this height, I could see the full extent of the farm–the golden wheat fields, the purple lavender patches, the tree orchards and roads between buildings.

"Infinity?" She asked.

I kept my eyes on the ground below.

"Nihilim," I said. "That black hole in the sky. Arx too. The lack of horizon, just an endlessly rising sphere..."

When Cinder banked, I once again saw the sheer scale of Arx stretching endlessly upward, impossibly vast continents and oceans curving up and up and up.

"Aww, is my little human scared of infinite megastructures?" Cinder teased, twirling like a corkscrew spiral.

"Maybe I am, damn it!" I yelped as she spun in circles, making my head spin. "My brain likes finite things!"

"How do you like that, you jerk?" She growled, plowing through clouds, banking, falling and rising. "Get used to it! Take that!"

I buried my face in her feathers, breathing in her familiar ozone and lavender scent, closed my eyes not to stare at the rapidly spinning view.

"Is this supposed to be a lesson?" I asked her. "You’re like a roller coaster. I think I'm going to be dizzy for a week."

"I'm already dizzy with you," she growled. "Everyday! Stop throwing me into insane loops!"

"My loops are just narrative twists!" I whined. "They exist to derail people's expectations! It's how I win against far stronger enemies as a little fox! I'm a ground-based creature! Staaaaph spinning."

"No," Cinder growled. "Just for that I'm going to spin faster."

And she did.