The initiation that Ludwig Klause gave them was simple enough and would only require a bit of espionage.

Journeying into the Empire and…defacing an Empire property.

It was juvenile, to say the least, but what to expect from farmers and civilians turned rebels. Though some rebels he encountered were seasoned criminals and de facto lawbreakers, he supposed it evened itself out. Besides, an initiation wasn't supposed to kill its new members; that would miss their point about wanting to build an opposing force against the empire. You can't do that if they're dead.

They were given a place to recoup in a cavern below their hideout. It was damp with the apparent rat that scurried across the cavern floor. Blackthorn assumed this was only a temporary spot until they proved themselves, or at the very least, this was for him. He felt they didn't trust him initially and would have given newer recruits a more Appealing resting lodge.

Overall, it didn't bother him. He'd make due and finish the mission without a hitch; now, he would need to contact the others and let them know how close he was to the destination.

“Alright, Ash, let's get going.” To the Sovran, who didn't say anything but followed along like a sentient being.

A group of people– including Klause– waited outside the base's doors.

“You both will walk from here and enter the Empire from the back entrance of the Hinterlands gates. It is easier to go on the cover of the night. Do this– don't make a scene– and don't let anyone trace your whereabouts back to us. We will know, and no one will be here; you'll be arrested without anyone to bail you out. Is that understood?”

“Perfectly. This will only be a moment.”

Ludwig nodded to a cloaked individual who led Blackthorn to the Empire's back gates. He obliged and followed until they reached the back cavern, the middle jurisdiction between Lysandrian and the Empire.

“Don't die.” The cloaked person who had led them said.

“I don't plan on it.” Was his only response, and he walked into the cavern's entrance with the Ash Born behind him.

The creatures inside the cavern were the weakest variant of Fiends and could even be erased by a civilian who knew how to hold a weapon.

To Blackthorn– and even to his Dormant self– this was merely child's play, and it was certainly nothing for the Ash Born Demon either.

They slashed at the monsters and disposed of them until they reached the cave's exit, which led them outside a forest. The tall buildings and structures of the Empire overlook the area.

“This seems far too easy, and to think I'd get some kind of challenge out of this.”

“Oh, you aren't having fun, Blackthorn? We thought easing you back into things would help you since you've been dormant for some time.”

The man's disembodied voice came from nowhere. Yet Blackthorn didn't look around or seem phased by the bodiless person.

“What, so you're watching me too? I would not have thought I needed to earn Walsh's trust, too.”

“It's not so much he doesn't trust you….” from the shadows of the trees. Emerald-colored eyes pierced through the darkness. “But to make sure that he stays asleep. We don't want him getting out anymore, yes?”

Blackthorn gritted his teeth at the comment. The insult was clear.

The young man, in front of him, with pale white skin and windswept chestnut hair, with white streaks at the roots, had a stride about him that cocky and exuded power. He wore a brightly colorful suit to match his eccentric personality.

“What do you want, Trickster?” Formally known as Sovran #0 Finnian.

“Oh, that was it really,” he said with whimsicality like a child with his hands behind his back and a broad smile that didn't reach his eyes, cold and deadly eyes. “I see you managed to find Sovran #1. Bravo. He looks like he did all those years ago.”

Blackthorn grunted. “And now I'm running more errands. The Dawn Coalition wants me to run an initiation before they trust me. I think they suspect me.”

The Trickster giggled. “And why would they not? You don't have his innocent eyes, and that white hair makes you look suspicious. You also don't have that Locksmith girl by his side…”

“Don't say her name,” Blackthorn hissed. The last thing he needed was to give a reason for him to wake up.

The Trickster zipped his lips sealed, smiling while doing so.

“And when I grab Ludwig Klause, where's the point of contact? You mentioned warehouses….”

The Trickster unzipped his lips and said, “Don't worry; someone will contact you. Oh, and one more thing…”

He pulled out a Voxlink and pressed a button for a recording to play Professor Walsh's voice.

“Follow things as planned, Blackthorn.”

With the trigger word said again, by Walsh's own lips. Blackthorn could feel him slipping further into the dark void of sleep. He could only describe it as feeling like a part of him was falling through an abyss.

The Trickster, Finnian, put the Voxlink back into his pockets. “Better? You're welcome. Now, off you go. Things need to be moving. Best of luck.”

The Trickster jumped in the air and onto a tree's branch before disappearing further into the sea of forest.

He shook his head. Always with the theatrics when he can teleport.

With the Ash Born Demon, Blackthorn continued the path to complete their initiation and be one step closer to setting things in motion for Walsh, the Children of Deimos, and their master, the Arbiter.

•†•

The night passed over the rolling hills of the Highlands. Both tanks, filled with Eden's Military Base and Lyra and her company on horseback, headed for the designated area where the ruptured Altar was taking place: on top of a tall Mountain that overlooked the entire plains.

Sure enough, to Lyra’s relief, a tower stood at the base of the cliff.

“Hmm,” The General hummed, exiting out of the tank. “It would seem your suspicions were correct. Very well, the military will handle it from here.”

“Whaa–?” Lyra exclaimed.

“With all due respect, General,” Sly said. “But the Military's artillery will not be able to handle what's inside. I can assure you. Let us join you as we agreed.”

He grunted. “I did allow you to join me. To this location, now step aside and let the military handle this or be thrown into a cell.”

With that, Lyra, Sly, and everyone were forced to stand off to the side while Soldiers, military operatives, and tanks emerged inside the open doorway of the Altar.

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“What now?” Cassandra asked.

“They'll be killed otherwise,” Malakyh said. “Someone will need to close the Altar from the outside and inside, and we won't be able to do that with the soldiers they left behind to watch us.”

Some soldiers left behind had their guns drawn, watching them, ready to fire at will if they drew too close to the Altar.

Lyra gritted her teeth, her hand clenched tightly into a fist. “We can't do anything…” Sly turned to her defeated-sounding tone, but not just defeat– a negative aura surrounded it. “We wait until there's no one left to hold us back.”

Sly pursed her lips together and nodded, unfortunately knowing that was the only way.

•†•

General Morgan and his military traversed inside the Altar. Strange drawings and a language that had long been forgotten were present, dating back to the 1050CC, the early days of the Age of Rediscovery Era. Much of the lost language was from a Primal Chaos Era and back to a pre-date.

There were depictions of “warriors”—not yet known as Locksmiths—riding on the back of large monstrous creatures known as Dragons. Several more scenes depicted a massive war known as the War of Shadows when certain groups banded together and fought side by side to erase the supposed Magycte Beast.

The soldiers collectively looked on with utmost curiosity, some with nervousness, feeling an ominous presence surface around them.

General Morgan could sense instinct but would not back down and allow superstitions or legends to be why things happen. Everything and anything that happened could easily be explained, or so he thought.

When the soldiers reached a tall, aging stone door with strange markings and pictures, it opened. A chill like no other escaped from inside the dark room, and a pungent odor and a dark purple miasma mist came from it.

The General readied his weapon with determination. “Onward, men!” The soldiers, though afraid, felt rejuvenated as they followed their general into the dark abyss.

It shut behind them with a slam, and an eerie, disembodied laugh echoed throughout the room.

Unbeknownst to them, a power unlike no other resided in that room lay the Void Magycte Beast in waiting.

It had been about two hours since the General and his army left inside of the Altar.

Lyra crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. Looking back at the door, she expected someone to walk through.

“This is taking too long. They should have been out by now. Right?”

“Patience, Lyra,” Sly said, also waiting with furrowed brows at the entrance. “Let the General lead his quarry as they see fit. Locksmiths cannot intervene if government officials lay claim to something.”

“Yeah, I know. Only if it involves a civilian, but I'm just getting a bad feeling.”

Sly nodded. Both in confirmation and acknowledgment that waiting didn't sit right with her.

“Never would have thought to see you Locksmiths in such a conundrum,” A disembodied yet recognizable voice said in the wind.

Malakyh his brows together, shaking her head. “Of course, he showed up. Why am I not surprised?”

To no one's surprise, Alivier– the Lichtkrieger, the light warrior, and Lumos’ follower–appeared seemingly from the mist, making a grand show of appearing from a beam of light. The only ones who seemed remotely impressed were Tierney and Aurora.

“Mmm, talk about a tough crowd. Perhaps I should redo that scene entirely? Maybe with more seriousness and an ominous tone.”

Lyra couldn't roll her eyes high enough, even if she could try. “I'd pluck you right now, but I'm too wound up and anxious for that.”

Alivier touched his heart and feigned hurt. “You wound me, Lyra, after all we've been through.”

Lyra's eye twitched, feeling the annoyance superseding her anxiety.

“I think the question we are all wondering about,” Sly said, intervening. “Where have you been all these weeks?”

“Ah, here and there, mostly. My presence as Lumos' follower requires me to be everywhere simultaneously.”

“Speak plainly, and all jokes aside,” Lyra told him.

“Touchy, but very well.” A dark look crossed over his features. Gone was the jubilant and happy-go-lucky hyperactive man facing a powerful Lichtkrieger who had seen things. Everyone in the group's demeanor changed as they waited with bated breath for what he had to say.

“As you may well know, the Curse is getting stronger, and it would seem as if the Imperial Military–and possibly the Empire– know about it or, at the very least, know how to trigger it to get what they want.”

Everyone looked at each other at the severity of the situation.

“It's apparent that the Altars don't need to be in place in specific areas to generate the curse,” Cassandra said. “Didn't Lieutenant Nikolai regal information that the Empire was very aware of everything and wanted to use the happenings for their own benefit?”

Lyra nodded. “Nikolai might have his gain, but whether the Empire is in on it or not with the Children of Deimos or if they want to bask in the glory is another thing.”

“So our answer is clear: what must we do?” Sly asked.

Lyra nodded. “Yup. We're going in that Altar and rescuing the General whether he likes it or not.”

Alivier had somehow pulled out his instrument and strummed a single note. “Excellent, marvelous! Aurum's heroes are one step closer to fulfilling Deimos' plan.”

“Malakyh, can you stay out here and close the Altar?” He nodded. She turned to Aurora and Tierney. I know you both want to help, but it's too dangerous. However, that's not to say you can't help. Each Altar we end up at will get stronger and stronger, which means more power to close it. Can I trust you two to help Malakyh?”

Tierney nodded, and Aurora's eyes twinkled at being trusted despite her adamant behavior before.

“And no other shenanigans. Is that clear? Don't do anything to push yourself.” Cassandra added, making the two girls yelp with a bob of their heads. “And you, don't let them pursue anything fatal.” The last remark to Malakyh, who groaned with an exasperated ‘understood.’

“I'm good to join the fray,” Cassandra said.

“As am I.” Sly agreed.

Lyra nodded. “Good. As for you, Alivier, you'll be coming with us to help close the Altar inside.”

“The day never gets old. Very well, let's tarry on!”

With the plan in place, they walked into the Altar.

The eeriness of the Altar was also met with an aura of Sheer dread and terror. Terror that only came hand in hand when faced with death.

Alivier could tell. His entire disposition was rigid and off. The expression on his face was serious throughout and down the hall, passing by the drawings of a Time before and standing in front of the tall doors that oozed out the sheer terror-filled aura they had felt earlier.

“It's in there,” his voice tense and raspy, unlike Alivier.

Everyone drew their weapons and walked inside.

The inside is an open field with a stone wall; tall stone edifices and tapestries are placed in random areas. To their confusion, there was no sign of a battle or of a Void Magycte Beast.

“Something isn't right here,” Cassandra said. “Where is the General, the army, anyone?”

“Keep your eyes peeled for any surprise attackers or… hopefully, survivors,” Sly said, not as hopeful as she would have liked.

Lyra scanned the field and saw nothing. She strides over toward Alivier. “Do you sense anything? Malakyh might be able to sense the departed, but you probably have something similar to sense a negative aura, right?”

“Something of that nature, yes. The Void Beast is around here, but it probably wants us to let our guard down. Most Beasts can sense strong power levels in people; it's wary of us.”

Lyra hummed, noting that information. “So we could catch it off guard then. At least, that's something. And you're sure you don't know which Void Beasts this is? Because I swear Alivier…”

“Oh, Lyra. Have I ever lied to you?”

Lyra frowned with a deadpan look on her face. “You’re kidding me. Yes, you have.”

“Oh.” a perplexed expression fell across his features, making his eyes doe-eyed. “A simple misunderstanding is all that was, I assure you.”

“Uh-huh, starting to think you're more trouble than a Magycte Beast. If you have information, don't keep it to yourself until now. Got it?”

He touched his heart. “On my sworn honor as Lichtkrieger.”

“Lyra, over here!”

Cassandra called out to them. The two rushed over to where Cassandra and Sly were over by a crevice in the side of the wall.

“What’s going on?” bewildered to know what they had found.

“See for yourself,” Sly said. Lyra peeked her head inside and gasped. To see injured soldiers and General Morgan. “Looks like we found our missing General and his troops.”

Then, the soft-sounding music of an instrument played, causing the soldiers to react by plugging their fingers in their ears. Alivier’s face grew pale, and his eyes glazed with fear.

“Alivier?”

“I promised you I didn't know beforehand,” he explained quickly. “But I know who it is now because of the specific fighting style this Void Beast uses.”

He looked at her gravely, making Lyra gulp but standing straight to keep her composure.

“Which is?”

“Byleth… the court demon of insanity and death, by music.”