As Ciaori ranted about a variety of Magogenic Faults, I leaned back in my chair, contemplating her words. The scale of the Arcanicx infiltration was staggering, and their plans for Novazem were troubling.

Kliss, to her credit, maintained her composure admirably, though I could feel her desires through our connection. Her dragon-self was still fixated on the sleigh, but there was also a growing concern about the fate of humanity of Novazem that belonged to her human-self.

"Oh, Elly! You simply must stay in one of my suites," Ciaori smiled jovially, gesturing expansively. "The Golden Harpoon has the finest rooms in all of Agamemnon. Much better than whatever accommodations you can procure from the humans. Don't waste your gold, I'll give you a room for as long as you need one.”

“Are you staying here?” Kliss asked, thinking about the sleigh.

“I am indeed,” the fox replied. “We can have breakfast together! Sounds good?”

Kliss nodded.

“Letorim!”

A merman waiter materialized beside our table, moving at a speed far beyond what's humanly possible.

"The key to Suite Seven, if you please," the Arcanicx purred.

He produced an ornate metal-framed crystal key placing it in Ciaori's outstretched hand with a deep bow.

"Here you are, love," Ciaori passed the key to Kliss. "Just head up the main stairwell. Seventh floor, can't miss it. The view of the harbor is simply sublime in the morning!"

. . .

The crystal key shimmered with a green glow when inserted into the keyhole, opening the door to Suite Seven. Nobody seemed to follow us.

My Infoscopes immediately spread throughout the space, scanning every corner of what appeared to be the most luxurious room I'd ever encountered.

Moonwood furniture adorned with gold and silver filigree filled the spacious chamber. A massive bed dominated one wall, draped with red sheets. Mirrors were everywhere, featuring our reflections.

Crystal chandeliers floated without support, casting rainbow patterns across the marble floors. The far wall was entirely transparent, offering a breathtaking view of a balcony facing Agamemnon's harbor where merchant skyships were docked among the golden spires. Fancy yachts bobbed in the harbour.

From what I saw there was no spying magic of any kind. I expected that the Arcanix would be trying to look into us further, but it didn’t seem to be the case. If anything, the room was well warded against scrying from the outside.

[This is rather fancy,] Kliss commented as she ran her fingers along the edge of the bed. [Why is she being so... generous?]

[I don't know,] I replied, watching magical currents flow through the walls like blood through veins.

[Do you think she knows I'm not really an Arcanicx?] Kliss asked, moving to the window. [She seemed to accept our story way too easily.]

[Agreed,] I answered. [Either she's incredibly gullible, which I doubt, or...]

[Or?]

[Or I don’t know,] I shrugged. [The Arcanicx infiltration changes everything. We need more information.]

[M-yes. So,] Kliss grinned at me, pulling off her wig, her crystalline mane catching the light from the floating chandeliers. [Is this our… honeymoon suite?]

I felt my face heat up at her words. [Not actually married,] I reminded her.

[This ring says otherwise, Mister.] She wiggled the gold ring in front of my face with a draconic grin of sharp chompers.

[I… uhh…] I outputted.

The giddy feelings pouring through the Dragon-Kobold connection was making me feel tingly all over, making it difficult to maintain my usual analytical detachment. I found myself relaxing as Kliss pulled me into her embrace.

She laughed. [You're cute when you blush. But seriously, we need answers. Take me to talk to Sasha.]

I nodded. [Alright. Hold on tight.]

As Kliss held me close, I activated NeuroVista, pulling us both into my mindscape. The luxurious suite dissolved around us, replaced by...

The Golden Harpoon restaurant. But this version was wrong - frozen in time like a photograph, the colors slightly off. Ciaori sat at our table, her form static and unmoving, like a mannequin posed mid-conversation. The other patrons were similarly frozen, their faces slightly indistinct as if smudged mid-motion.

Sasha sat across from us, her silver-blue eyes multiplying and shifting as she regarded us with alien interest. She wore a simple white dress that moved in waves as if she was submerged deep underwater.

"Interesting choice of venue," I commented.

"Got bored of the frozen wasteland." She shrugged.

"We need answers," Kliss stated firmly, her hand finding mine under the table.

“Oh?” Sasha arched a few eyebrows at us.

“What are Arcanicx?” Both of us asked at the same time.

“Your creation,” Sasha replied with an inhumanly wide smile.

“I don’t recall making foxgirls,” I pointed out.

"The Arcanicx are your children," Sasha explained, patting the frozen form of Ciaori on the orange fluffy head. “Aren’t they beautiful? Aren’t you proud to have produced such fine specimens of advanced humanity?”

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“What?!” Both of us sputtered.

"Well, not YOUR children specifically, but the children of another version of you, ideas that were devoured by the Wormwood Star on its last pass across Novazem and reseeded here to bloom in the Magogenic Zones left by the impact of comet shards. They are what happens when a dragonheart meets human ingenuity of the Understanding."

Sasha pointed at Kliss and then at me. We simply stared back at her.

“You’re my Understanding,” Sasha grinned at me, a thousand silver eyes sparkling within her depths. “My Keymaker. The Arcanicx are a work in progress, the result of the previous Keymaker’s experiments with crystalline life. The Arcanicx unquestionably perceive Kliss as one of them because she is similar in many ways to their foremother.”

"So, these... Arcanicx," Kliss interjected, "they're what happens when... someone like me meets someone like Slava?"

“Correct,” Sasha affirmed. “You, Kliss Eliza Cessna, you are the necessary kindling that ignites the firestorm of creation, the essential parameter, the muse of a Keymaker. You’re a spark that grows into a fire that populates the world with new life. Your union creates possibilities, sparks of creation that the Star harvests and scatters across doomed worlds. The Arcanicx are one such possibility - crystalline life forms adapted to thrive in magogenic zones, designed by a previous Understanding.”

“They’re not exactly like Kliss,” I pointed out. “Their souls are full of holes.”

“Because Kliss is the next step. The information you pulled from the Astral in the moment when you’ve made her was based on the works of your predecessors,” Sasha shrugged. “Your dragon girl is a superior product because she is the result of your current understanding of the world around you. You are more clever, more dangerous than those that came before you, Slava. Each new Keymaker stands on the shoulders of the Keymaker that comes before him. You are an ever-evolving, ever improving idea meant to open every door in the end. When you inevitably perish, I will likewise reveal this truth to another.”

I stared at Sasha. The concept reminded me of the Soviet space program - each new achievement building upon previous successes, each rocket design improved based on the failures of the previous generation.

"So we're your... attempt number what?" I asked dryly.

“I don’t count the attempts,” Sasha shrugged. “I simply work with what I am given.”

"Am I just another iteration in your grand experiment? What, am I, your Korolev, designing better and better rockets for you? Is Kliss my Vostok-6?" I huffed.

"A curious metaphor," Sasha tapped her chin. "Just as Korolev built upon German V2 designs to create Vostok, you're building upon previous Keymakers' discoveries. Just as the space race pushed humanity to break free from Earth's gravity well, you are meant to break humanity free from certain... cosmic constraints."

"And Kliss is what, my Valentina Tereshkova? The first woman to break free from Earth's gravity well?" I sighed.

"In a manner of speaking," Sasha waved a silver hand. "Just as Tereshkova proved that women could survive in space, Kliss proves that humanity can be greatly enhanced beyond its original… parameters."

"My rebirth on Novazem, meeting Kliss, even our current situation, is it all part of some grand design to create better 'keys'?" I demanded.

"In a way... Yes," Sasha replied simply.

"Is this the part where you tell me that there's no free will?" I asked.

"You're free to fail, to lie down and die if you so desire," Sasha shrugged. "You've already left enough of an imprint with Kliss on Novazem, a blueprint for the next generation to work with… written into the Astral with Omnicode.”

“Omnicode…” I repeated.

“The fractal language wielded by the Understanding,” Sasha nodded. “Your language. Something that only you can understand, because you’ve designed it to begin with. Built up notch by notch by generations of Keymakers. The foundation of everything you can do.”

I rubbed my forehead with both of my hands.

“Omnicode isn’t the language of the gods that I happened to stumble upon?”

“Obviously not,” Sasha replied, steepling her fingers. “Omnicode belongs to you.”

I pictured an infinite line of Slavas in my head. Each writing something in the book of Omnicode and passing it to the next. Forever and ever.

Was I merely a runner participating in a never-ending relay race, carrying my baton forward only to pass it onto the next Slava?

Kliss growled, her eyes flashing with orange fire that made the air in the still cafe warp. "Listen here, virus. Stop messing with Slava’s head. I don't care about cosmic plans or previous iterations. This Slava is mine, and I won't let you make him doubt himself."

"What are you complaining about? I’m trying to help you. You’re free to take advantage of what I told you," Sasha winced as the table between us ignited with orange sparks falling from Kliss. "Wield the Arcanicx against the Empire of Equality! They're a valuable resource!"

Another wave of heat radiating from Kliss struck Sasha, making her entire figure warp and twist.

“Stop it. I'm on your side. I want you to leave me more to work with,” Sasha waved her hands, slapping away sparks from her white dress that ignited at the edges.

Was everything I'd done, everything I'd created, just another iteration in an endless cycle?

"Hey," Kliss's voice cut through my existential spiral. She squeezed my hand tightly. "Stop that. I can feel you overthinking this."

"But—" I began.

"No," she interrupted firmly.

“No?”

"So what if there were others before you? So what if there's some cosmic plan linking us together? You're still you. You still chose to save me, to help Delta, to protect Skyisle. Those were your choices,” Kliss pointed out.

"Were they though?" I asked. "Or am I falling down the same well of probability outcome, making similar mistakes, having the same conversation again and again, saving the same girl again and again? All of this would explain what we saw in the In-Between, the ocean of stars, a billion hands entwined together. They’re… us, past us.”

"Does that really matter?" Kliss asked, her crystalline mane flaring with orange coronas. "Even if there were a thousand versions of us before, even if we're destined to fail like they did - we're still us, here and now. I still chose you, and you still chose me."

“It matters because I want to understand the whole picture,” I complained.

“I know,” Kliss hugged me tightly. “I know. And I’ll protect you while you do that. I am your knight, your Champion. Never forget that.”

“Even if our meeting was orchestrated?” I asked.

“Was it though?” Kliss asked and turned to Sasha “Does the Wormwood Star bring us together?”

“No,” Sasha answered. “It does not.”

“See?” Kliss grinned.

Sasha opened her mouth, but Kliss lifted a hand in the air.

“Buzz off,” she said simply pointing two fingers at the Astral Virus. “I learned enough.”

A ray of blinding dragonfire erupted from Kliss' fingers in a lance of orange-white flame, cutting through Sasha's ethereal form like a plasma torch through ice. The virus's silver-blue eyes widened in shock as her body split vertically.

Around us, the frozen dreamscape of the Golden Harpoon ignited, melting and warping. The mannequin-like patrons crumbled into ash, their blurred features running like wet paint. The walls buckled, golden fixtures bubbling and running like molten metal.

I watched as reality fractured around us, the restaurant's interior breaking apart into geometric shards that spun lazily through an endless void connected by burning silver strands, like a gargantuan web shimmering all around. Sasha's eyes opened between sheared walls, tracking us from different angles simultaneously with an extremely annoyed glare.

I found myself awake, wrapped in the dragon girl's arms. Sparks of dragonfire danced on her ruby mane, her eyes staring at me with a fiery expression. Waves of Syntropic magic poured from her figure making the lights overhead flicker erratically. It was the middle of the night, violet stars and Inaria dominating most of the sky behind the large windows.

"Yes?" I asked.

"I can't take it anymore," she growled. "I need it. Right now. We're doing it."

"What?" I sputtered.