It had taken almost an entire day before the Sieve’s staff allowed Crow’s team to re-enter their own quarters.

Faceless, voiceless and uniform as ever, the masses of servants had been unshaken by any protest from Astra or attempts at reason from Gem. Located in the top floor, their original placement lacked any degree of safety from attacks that might strike the Crux externally. As aids of the Sieve, they simply couldn’t allow its contestants to remain in danger.

Even Crow had considered the rationale to be far fetched. He’d heard of the battle, as his teammates had. As, undoubtedly, the entire city had. Heard from the staff themselves it had been between a pair of Immortals. Still he’d been sceptical that any two individuals, mystics or not, could warrant such measures through a fight between them alone.

Then he’d left the Crux, taken by the whim to have a stroll. Happened upon the site by coincidence alone, with help from the tide of bodies flowing endlessly towards it.

All doubt had left his mind at but a glance of what remained.

Stories told of an Immortal’s wrath. Mountains being upturned at a whim, forests levelled in a fury. What Crow saw fell short of that by far. He doubted all the stone churned upward from craters combined would have totalled the volume of any mountain. Felt sure that none of the buildings made level by the devastations of air had been so resilient as trees.

It made no difference. However far from myth, the sight before him was reality. His stomach rolled and jaw tightened at the realisation. No horror of fantasy could ever match the disgusting truth of what his eyes took in.

The site of greatest destruction was an elliptical crater of vanquished stone and obliterated earth, fathoms wide and still steaming with a dull heat even hours after its birth. The ground was charred black around it, flat and smooth for scores of paces before the skeletal remains of any buildings could be seen protruding upwards.

No section of the city had been so thoroughly ruined as that, yet many were a waste nonetheless. Some bifurcated by trenches thrice the width of a man’s shoulders and stretching hundreds of feet from one end to another. Others pockmarked by pits and holes large enough for a family to bathe in.

All had the stench of magic about them, stronger than the ash or iron in the air. Filling Crow’s nostrils with a sickening completion, as if no other smell existed in the world.

It was a dangerous reek, he knew, and one he soon fled from. Barricades had been set up around the destroyed area, manned en mass and held with certainty. Just a single breath had been explanation enough for why.

Crow found himself doubtful the line had been drawn nearly far enough from the site.

Even he, a mystic, had felt sick at the density of magic clinging to every particle of the place. Fear grew in him at the thought of how many might grow ill and infirm from whatever exposure had come before the blockades.

He returned to the Crux sobered by what he’d seen, finding the sight pried from him the moment Astra noticed his mood. She absorbed his account instantly.

Crow loved her for that, drew warmth and surety from the feeling of safety his sister’s trust filled him with. Then felt it turn sour and wretched as his thoughts moved back to the lies he’d fed her. Moreso at the sight of her. The bond he and his sister shared was not always a boon, feeling every sting of pain she tried so hard to hide had him more on edge than anything else.

Luck kept him from dwelling on his thoughts for long. A mere half hour after his return, their accommodations were finished. Smaller rooms than before, decorated with far more modesty and tended with a greatly diminished care. All conjoined as a single apartment Only Gem seemed bothered by the fact.

Crow would have happily accepted a room twice as small again, it was only the feel of the place that gave him pause.

Their previous quarters had windows. Built to catch the city’s breeze and caress the skies themselves.

Such things were insecure, and the Sieve’s staff had amended their error by selecting chambers in the building’s heart. Thick of wall, hard of stone. No wind could hope to cross one tenth of the journey to them.

He suspected the stifling feeling was shared by his teammates, for conversation was bitter and constrained when it picked up. Answers short, tempers moreso.

Astra tried to speak of the Sieve, but not even her monomainacal heart could remain in it amid the circumstances. Talk soon turned to the attack, all eyes falling on Crow as the sole present witness of its aftermath.

Horror bled into each one of his teammate’s faces as he recounted what he’d seen, adding in ever more detail even as anger swelled at the memory.

How many people died helpless and scared because of two people’s confrontation? He asked himself, fighting to keep the rage from reaching his face.

“Do you all have any idea how long it took me to find you?” Came a familiar, nerve rending voice. Crow turned to the door, eying Unity cautiously as the boy entered.

He cut a refreshing sight. Clothes changed and clean, hair washed and brushed, face no less sunken and thin than ever and eyes clear and unbroken by any risen capillaries. His thin lips were pulled back to near invisibility by a smile, ivory teeth almost glowing in the sterile arclight.

“Why didn’t you just ask for directions?” Astra asked. Her voice was low, almost careful.

Crow found himself confused by the lack of her usual hostility, then realised his sister was shifting subtly as she spoke. Preparing for combat.

She thinks that he’s a threat to her?

The realisation seemed absurd. Unity’s answer came before Crow could consider it further.

“I did.” The artificial said, still smiling. “Unfortunately everybody I asked was remarkably unhelpful. Being called a murderer really didn’t narrow your location down. Perhaps even my exceptional mind has limits on how little a scrap of information it can work with.”

It was then that Crow felt a chill run through him. Doubtless the very same kind that had curled Astra’s hands into fists and pulled her muscles tight for battle.

Unity’s smile was as genuine as any Crow had seen. In light of their last task, he couldn’t imagine a more unsettling sight than that.

“You look well.” Astra said. “Considering the circumstances. Incredibly well. Almost abnormally so.”

Something ugly met her words from beneath Unity’s unshaking grin, then vanished without a trace.

“What can I say?” The boy answered, still smiling. “I recover quickly. It’s one of my many gifts, lacking the mental fragility that seems so tragically common in those of more authentic origins.”

A shadow fell across him from the open door. Crow shifted his eyes to its source, found himself staring in confusion when he saw it.

There was something familiar about the man in the doorway. Crow realised quickly that he’d seen his face before, though was certain it held nowhere near the fame of Gem or Unity’s.

Hair as black as gunpowder cropped his head, cut short and tight against his scalp and seeming to drink in the light. It was contrasted by the near luminescence of his eyes, dakaran red and Unixian clear.

Crow wondered if he was a half breed.

“Evening.” The man said.

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

He spoke with a thick accent, one that rang entirely alien in Crow’s ears. It seemed to glide over every word, curling vowels and pronouncing them with only the softest touch. An affable voice, yet far from a weak one.

“I am Unison Mylif, you might have heard of me. If it’s no trouble, I’d like to speak with my brother in private. I’ll try to have him back as soon as I can.”

Shock must have left Crow slow, for it took him long, stretching moments to realise who the red-eyed man was speaking of. He wore the surprise on his face while staring at Unity, finding it impossible to hide.

“You have a brother?” He gasped.

Unity seemed nonplussed.

“I do.” He answered, voice suddenly stiff. Face suddenly taut. “But there’s no need to worry, I won’t be leaving your presence just yet. He doesn’t have nearly the power to summon me he seems to think.”

“Unity Edenl, you follow me this instant or I swear to the Goddess I will kick your behind with force enough to have you kissing eagles.”

The sudden edge to his words surprised even Crow. Unity seemed more affected than any other present, his back stiffening as near to straightness as Crow imagined the boy was capable of.

“Right.” He muttered, turning to follow his brother. Defeated.

Conversation picked up almost the moment they were gone, as if Unity’s presence had been a smothering blanket held over his teammate’s tongues.

“It’s strange to think he was our biggest problem yesterday.” Gem muttered, eying the door as though fearful the boy might reemerge.

She’d withered in the crisis. Losing the perpetual glow that seemed to feed her beauty, hair growing dull, eyes darkening likewise. Though her skin and face still bore the soft, porcelain smoothness of youth, so too were they marred by sagging exhaustion.

Crow was relieved to hear her speak. Some part of him had feared the girl might lose her voice forever, so sporadic had her input grown.

“He still might be.” Astra spat. “What are the chances this attack isn’t just one of a kind? Seems to me that security’s grown coiled and tight enough around this city that only an idiot would try to continue what was started last night.”

There was a logic in her words that comforted Crow, chipped away at the niggling fear deep in his mind.

But Gem’s answer was unmoved.

“It really depends on how powerful the attacker was. If what Crow described of the damage is accurate, it would take an extremely strong Immortal to cause.”

She stung him with that. The casual scepticism of his testament, as if he was a big enough fool to forget or distort a vision etched into his mind so short a time ago. But the doubt she cast on Astra’s prediction was a thousand times worse.

“I’d guessed it was an Immortal.” Crow injected. “But what does that mean exactly? Surely this city could defend against one.”

An Immortal. He realised, blood cooling. Perhaps…

He dismissed the thought. Scared.

The girl didn’t answer immediately. Deka, perhaps thinking her stumped by the question, intersceded.

“It depends on too many factors for us to know. Some cities are prepared perpetually for such events, staffed with enough combat mystics to bring down practically anything. Udrebam might well be one of those, given the import of its Sieve.”

“It isn’t.” Gem said. “Sieves have never been well defended. There are enough mystics naturally gravitating towards them that administrators tend to forego the official security such events warrant, assuming the attendants will make deterrent enough on their own.”

“Won’t they?” Astra asked.

The girl smiled weakly.

“You overestimate the average mystic. Most aren’t trained for battle like we are, fewer still are eager for it. I’d be surprised if even half the ones who came to scope out this year’s magical prodigies were still present.”

It dropped a stone into the pit of Crow’s stomach.

“So there could be another attack.” He breathed. “Or multiple. And there’s nothing we can do but hope whoever’s responsible for the first is satisfied at one.”

A silence descended upon them.

“The Sieve may be cancelled.” Deka blurted out, voice cheerful in spite of everything. “We might well be given protection on our ways back home in light of this.”

She’d surely meant it to be of some comfort, but Crow found nothing of the sort in her words.

“Surely it won’t be.” He said, true panic touching his heart as the girl’s sense sank in. The Sieve couldn’t be cancelled, Crow wouldn’t accept it. Not when he’d fought so long and hard. Neared the Eclipse’s Nectar so tantalisingly.

Deka’s face was regretful, holding no answer for him. Crow turned instead to Gem.

The reassurance he’d sought was nowhere to be seen, yet neither did he find any of Deka’s mournfulness. Gem answered his stare unflinching, giving him pause in spite of her infirmity.

“There’s every chance it will be.” She said. “Tamaias has run Udrebam’s Sieve every year since its start. His death is an enormous wrench in its gears.”

Crow stood without thinking, turned and made his way for the door. Felt eyes burning his back with every step, blood rushing to his face at the knowledge of how petty he was being. Still he walked.

There was no choice. If he stayed, he’d risk losing grip on his emotion. Letting all see the tears welling in his eyes.

“How are you?” Unison asked, breaking the silence with his usual lack of tact. After days of seeing every step in his presence made as if on broken glass, it was a delightfully refreshing attitude.

“Care to be more specific?” Answered Unity, not turning to his brother as he did.

“No.”

Unity sighed, recognising the unflinching focus in an instant.

“I’m doing fine.” He said. “Mentally, as I assume you’re asking. I’ve accepted what happened in the last task, come to terms with it and long since moved past all temporary shock the event sparked in me. I’m back to normal.”

He kept himself facing front for all of two footsteps, then the urge to turn grew irresistible. He saw Unison already staring at him when he did, crimson eyes narrowed in study and tight with worry.

“That’s good.” His brother said after a moment. “And what are your thoughts on the incident?”

The incident, as if it happened on its own.

Unity forced a smile, turning back away from his brother as if disinterested. Hoping silently for all he was worth that the man didn’t see past his act.

“I just told you.” He said. “I’ve come to terms with it, moved past whatever temporary shock it struck me with.”

“Yes, I heard you. The issue is that there are lots of ways a person might move past that shock, and I’ve never heard of any managing it within a few days.”

Unity threaded his voice with annoyance.

“So you don’t believe me?”

He’d meant the challenge to force Unison into a backstep, send him wavering in his conviction. Focus on not being misinterpreted. As always, his brother was undaunted.

“I don’t.”

“Well you can relax.” Unity snapped, turning back to him with an anger he hadn’t expected. “Because I’m not lying. I don’t give a shit about that pathetic piece of scum I fought, nor do I care about his death. The event hasn’t moved me a millimetre and it never will. Are you satisfied?”

Shock scattered thought on Unison’s face, then bled into anger. His eyes were harder than Unity had ever seen them, voice sharper than he’d ever expected to hear.

“You don’t mean that.” Said the fool, wrapping his words in denial and desperation enough that Unity could practically taste it. Like rancid honey.

“I do.” Unity answered. “And I’m sick of needing to demonstrate my nature so constantly and obviously to one who should have a clearer view of it than any other. I killed that boy because I didn’t care about his life and found myself angered by him. I groped and spat and struck out as a child for much the same reasons. Stop expecting me to wilt in the face of tragedy as if I’m just as soft and human as the rest of the world.”

There was a pause before Unison spoke next. Long enough for time to quicken Unity’s heart. When he next heard his brother’s voice, it was regretful.

“You really believe it, don’t you Unity?”

It was a laughable question, and Unity answered appropriately.

“Don’t treat this like a joke.” His brother growled. “It isn’t.”

“It is.” Unity answered. “As are you, brother-mine. As is anyone delusional enough to have watched me for a lifetime and still hold doubt about my nature. It never struck you for a moment that the stories might have some weight to them, did it? You never found yourself wondering about the validity of all those common, consistent tales speaking of an artificial’s danger?”

“Because they’re bullshit.” Unison growled. “No artificial has ever been placed in the position of a natural-born human, it’s impossible to separate nature from circumstance.”

Unity laughed again at that, finally finding the gesture genuine.

“Right.” He giggled. “Your issue is that people aren’t following the scientific process.”

Unison took a sharp breath, face convulsing with fury. It settled back to its usual steel after a moment.

“That’s right.” He admitted. “The sort of issue I’d expect you to take with it, too. You’ve never been one for anecdotes before. Except when they suited you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Unity asked, but his brother was already peeling away from beside him. Heading off down a corridor without even a glance fired back over his shoulder.

Unity was soon left standing alone.