“Well, that’s one answer,” Yurrest grunted. Despite the corpse, he didn’t even blink.

Devick scowled down at the dried pile in front of them. The limbs were contorted into a rictus self-embrace. The Nether Warrior only had a few hours' head start, but the constant wind along the bluffs sucked the moisture away. “So this prick seriously led us on a pointless chase just to…?”

“For all their ferocity in war, Nether Warriors can be petty too.” Yurrest turned away and adjusted his belt. “Honestly, if we are out here anyway, I’d like a bit of time to just… view the scenic vistas, if you know what I mean. Don’t often get the chance to take a break from it all. No ambushes in this shithole.”

With that, he sidled off through the windswept grey ridges, vanishing between the whorls of bleak dust on the Western border between Aether and Netherlands. At this point the battlelines had moved far past this edge, making it purely nominal.

Devick wondered how harsh the punishment would be if she dragged Yurrest’s headless corpse back to base and claimed they had caught the fleeing Nether patrol and he had died in the struggle. At least that way the constant loping pace they had maintained for the past several hours would be worth it. In the end, the toil of simply tugging his lard-filled body dissuaded her. Growling to herself, Devick began to pace back and forth.

She reached up to run her hands through her hair, but they were covered in dust. With a grimace, wiped her fingers on her armor.

For all that she felt herself improving markedly in the few desperate battles she had participated in, most of her newfound role as a soldier wasn’t harrowing or inspiring at all. More often she was asked to walk around and stare at nothing.

More often, she ended the day with dirt thickly crusted under her fingernails without remembering how it had happened.

Even worse, her exemplary performance in the last few spurts of combat had meant she now had been put in a position of command. A small one, but It came with an increase in her, honestly insultingly low, pay. but it also meant she now had to deal with the complaints and petty whims of twenty other soldiers. Dirty, horrid soldiers like Yurrest.

Whereas the Miracle’s had been united by a common goal, the soldiers were a much more problematic chunk of biomass.

Devick turned and looked up at the sky. “Nether King Hungry Eye, where-”

“I thought I recognized your aura. You are one of his, aren’t you?”

Devick whirled around and found two figures looming where there had been none only a few moments prior. The taller figure had a stained cloak wrapped around her body. Most of her torso was covered by the front figure, but enough of her peeked around the first silhouette to display the seeping color of rust spreading through the robe, speaking to a horrible wound lurking beneath the surface. The figure’s face was covered by a low hood, but all those details began to fall away; this figure’s presence seemed to suck away something vital from the air. Devick’s eyes widened and she couldn’t find it in her to speak.

Hell, she couldn’t find it in her to do anything.

And that lack of control made her furious. She cast her eyes around, not understanding what was happening.

The smaller, slighter figure had tan fur covering most of her body and bone-white hair stretching from her head midway down her back. Her expression almost appeared apologetic. Both of her delicate-looking hands were in front of her, wrapped in curiously ornate manacles made of a black material Devick didn’t recognize.

However, she was small potatoes compared to the insulting feeling of deference she felt toward the cloaked figure. Devick bit her lip until it bled. When she still felt a defeatist urge to submit, without even a raised finger from the other party she began to actively chew on the flesh, until the inside of her cheek was shredded chunk. Which she wanted to spit out, but her traitorous body felt appalled by the thought of spitting at this figure’s feet.

“Your will is strong too. Well, I should have expected as much. The longer I have known him, the more insightful he seems” The cloaked woman sighed. She pressed her hands against the smaller, furred woman’s shoulder and allowed her to step forward. The cloaked figure’s head came up, scanning the sky. “I cannot do more than this. Protect this woman, please. To even the wisest the future remains clouded, but… I believe, for the sake of us all, she cannot be found by our pursuers.”

Devick had several questions at that ominous pronouncement.

The air flickered. The cloaked figure vanished, leaving a few drops of blood in her wake. The strange pressure, the stilting sense of propriety forced against Devick vanished. Liberated, all that pressure exploded through her body. With all the energy she could muster, she opened her mouth wide and shouted ‘Fuck!’. The word smothered some nearby dust whirls and bounced out through the wide expanse around her.

Sniffing in distaste, Devick turned to the manacled woman. She eyed her for several seconds, trying to figure out what to do with her. On the one hand, she felt a strong impulse to murder this strange figure and just leave the body here: that oppressive figure had wanted Devick to hide the girl, and even after leaving a part of Devick wanted to do what the figure had said, which made Devick really want to do exactly the opposite.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Based on the disappeared figure’s behavior, this person was a fugitive, likely using the chaos of war to escape. This woman, therefore, represented more responsibilities, without even the nominal pay raise.

However, the longer Devick looked, the more her expression softened. Lines of grief and resignation clustered around the woman’s eyes. Her hands were bound. She had a tattered robe on that hung limply around her skinny frame. She had a fancy-looking bone necklace and several silver bracelets on her arms behind the manacles, but the finery did little to improve her lot in life.

Besides. At the very least… she isn’t boring. Or covered in dirt. Devick’s eyes narrowed. Actually… is she covered in silver glitter?

The figure kept her gaze low on the ground, perhaps staring at the drops of blood left by the disappeared figure. Devick remembered how she had felt before she had stumbled across Nether King Hungry Eye, stuck in the city of her adopted father. Treated well, but without the freedom to make any decisions for herself.

“What do you want to do?” Devick croaked out. “In your life, I mean. Assuming no one is tracking you down and trying to kill you.”

The woman smiled tentatively in exchange. “Honestly? I have no idea. Everything… nothing is proceeding how I expected.”

“So fucking true,” Devick muttered. She felt an echoing urge to raise her voice and swear but decided she would spend some time playing a firm but kind figure of authority.

The woman’s gaze brightened as she considered more. “But honestly, the current situation- well, the war is devasting. The loss of life will stick with me until the day I die. I feel so powerless. But… does it make sense to say I thought it would be much worse?”

God, what sort of rust and piss orgy did you crawl out of? Devick clicked her tongue and didn’t respond directly; she had heard about how captured prisoners could be so conditioned by captivity they responded to strange developments positively, but this felt quite sad to witness in person. If this stranger viewed being dumped onto Devick’s lap as an improvement on her situation-

“...anyways, let's move you from that spot. You are standing on a rotting Nether Warrior corpse.” Devick said gruffly. She offered her hand to shake. “I’m Devick. What’s your name?”

“I’m Lowanna, the Nether Arbiter.” Because her hands were shackled together, she had to raise and offer both to Devick.

Devick shook the strange woman’s hands, her fingers thin and bony, but her fur surprisingly soft. Hell, people say I’m strange? Where is this girl’s head at…

She cleared her throat. “Errr… interesting. Nice to meet you Lowanna. When we get back to the camp, I think it’s best if you let me do the talking. You… have a peculiar sense of humor. I can relate; some of my favorite people tell me that I’m an acquired taste.”

“The universe does certainly pick favorites,” Lowanna grinned.

Devick gave her a nonplussed look that quickly pinched together into worry. Then the stern expression felt vaguely familiar and her skin began to tingle. This… the way I’m looking at her, like she has not the slightest bit of self-preservation instinct and I’m confronting the fact that she will clearly get herself killed if I don’t do anything… isn’t this exactly how Nether King Hungry Eye looks at me?!?

The cloaked figure’s words came back to Devick, refocusing her before she followed that insight down a disturbingly self-reflective rabbit hole. “That woman… she said something about Nether King Hungry Eye. Do you know him?”

“Never met him.” Lowanna kept the smile on her face.

Devick just sighed. Great. Great great great. I suppose that it is within my rights to employ a servant as a Squad Leader. I just figured my second would end up being… more helpful, and less intent on stealing my crown as the of most unhinged individual in the outfit. Haaah. Responsibility has really changed me…

*****

Randidly arrived back at the location of his near-indestructible ground platform and instantly felt the wrongness in the air. The tang felt like the scent of ozone smote into existence by a bolt of lightning.

He raised his head and looked around slowly, tracing both consequence ripples and lines of energy in the surrounding space. Dawn just now reached up from beyond the horizon and the last remnants of his Nether storm still spun lazily in the air. He pressed his lips together as the certainty regarding the wrongness increased. During the rapid journey back from eliminating Swacc, he had begun reinforcing the memory with Nether after he created an inflection point, but he hadn’t rushed to finish.

He had assumed he could arrive back at his training facilities and test out his theories about physical restrictions while healing the strain on his Nether Core. Now he regretted taking it easy on his return.

It was a good lesson; he had time to improve while in the memory, but if he waited around too long, events would pull away from him.

The source of the sensation became quickly apparent. Neveah sat within her gazebo with a complete stranger, one whose presence involved both Aether and Nether drawn together in a dense tangle. A single examination made Randidly blink in shock; he had never encountered someone who could integrate Aether and Nether like this before. The alignment of the two energies didn’t possess the natural resonance of Randidly’s own existence, but it involved some very old Nether and Aether living in harmony.

Nether so old it must have come from outside of the Nexus, he realized. He straightened like a finger made of ice ran up his spine.

Randidly’s skin prickled as he walked up to the gazebo and joined those two. The figure wore a cloak bearing the familiar symbols of the Cult of the Savior and seemed completely at ease, sitting at the strange table and chatting with Neveah. His hood was down, so when Randidly ascended the small steps he looked sideways and smiled.

His face was round and perhaps vaguely human, but jumbled. He had two small tooth-filled mouths on the upper part of his skull and a bulging eye right above where his chin should be. The two mouth-eyes formed into gleeful o’s. Bits of the top of the head rose and fell, allowing the mouths their articulation. “Ah… so that is it. I see, I see. I suspected as much when conversing with Neveah here… but oh, Nether King Hungry Eye, what a strange existence you are. Or should I call you Randidly Ghosthound? Which do you prefer?”

Randidly felt a vein in his temple throb. His hands tightened into fists. His Nether Core began to rev and roar as it built up momentum, even if it strained the memory. Survival was more important than anything else. “What do you want?”

From what Randidly had understood, the Cult of the Savior was the ultimate cause of the schism in the memory. It seemed that Elhume would eventually become powerful enough to overwhelm them… but the fist user only managed that by reaching the Pinnacle.

“Honestly? From you? Nothing in particular.” The mouth-eyes both chuckled. “Because we both know that I’ve already won.”