Clara’s hatred for the plan only increased the deeper she fell into it. It was simple: the Eldemari would infiltrate and use her End to save Clara from her life-death oath. Supposedly, all the lich needed to do was touch Clara.

Clara had heard the rough plan before today, but the full horror of it hadn’t hit her until now, alone in the room with Maria. Given everything she knew about End affinity, what the Eldemari intended to do simply wasn’t possible. She knew, intellectually, that Maria was also an ascendant now, and that she could do impossible things, but Clara couldn’t help but feel like some kind of test subject.

As if you weren’t one already, she thought bleakly. Ascendant Dunai had already made an experiment out of her with his special oath. He had never said outright that the oath was a new phenomenon, but the way he wielded it to shape her actions felt clumsy, suggesting a lack of familiarity or competence. With Dunai, it had to be the former.

Maria gave Clara a steely look, snapping her out of her thoughts. The researcher realized that she was frowning, her hands clenched. She relaxed her grip.

She cleared her throat and prattled on about an inane subject, playing the role of a “good host” for the observers that would be surveilling the room. Her heart wasn’t in it, though. All her mind could think about was the inevitable arrival of Dunai’s–no, Achemiss’s–representative. She knew it would probably be controlled by Achemiss directly, which was an intimidating thought. The more time she spent with ascendants, the more she agreed that they deserved their own celestial playground beyond the reach of mere mortals like herself. They were fragile when taken by surprise, as was the case with nearly all practitioners, but individually they could cause cataclysms.

She thought back to the conversation back in the security room, when they’d analyzed the Eldemari and assessed her as a calamity level threat, one tier down from apocalypse level.

Clara knew that neither was correct as she stared into Maria’s eerie glowing eyes and porcelain perfect face.

A calamity was a disaster localized to a certain area, one that wouldn’t spread. Apocalypse level was a disaster that could spread uncontrollably, causing an apocalyptic event if left unchecked. Either that, or a localized, non-spreading disaster on a massive scale, like if an ascendant fire elementalist razed an entire continent to ash.

What Dunai had created during the war with Selejo–those self-replicating flesh monstrosities–were easily apocalypse-level material.

And the level beyond that was extinction. Someone with enough power to completely wipe out the entire world.

Like the Infinity Loop supposedly is, she thought. Like any of these returned ascendants could be.

She was startled from her musings when thoughts intruded upon her mind via quantum channel. Belvaire, another envoy has arrived. We believe that Dunai is controlling it personally.

Her heart skipped a beat. It seemed to be General Kelvanne. How can you be sure? Have you spoken with the envoy yet?

The envoy is still waiting in the arrival chamber, so we can’t be sure. However, it looks like the spitting image of Dunai, aside from the fact that it’s obviously a construct. It also seems to have some human mannerisms, shifting its weight, fidgeting. It doesn’t seem to be a construct acting under orders.

Clara suppressed the urge to sigh in relief. To let anyone else talk to the fake Ian Dunai was dangerous. If any of them mentioned the Eldemari’s arrival, Achemiss would realize that something was amiss. She had heard from Ian and company that the ascendant was incredibly paranoid, and knew they were all acting under the assumption that if anything happened that seemed remotely off to the necromancer, he’d leave.

And if that happened, their plans would fail. They wouldn’t be able to learn of the private rifts that Achemiss would take over, so they’d be back to square one, without any leads about where he was hunkered down.

Y’jeni, it was infuriating dealing with such a crafty foe, and Clara was just doing what she was told, not actively strategizing against him. She figured Dunai and his allies must be constantly cursing the man’s caution.

Who will take over for me here? she asked.

No one will entertain the lich in the room, but two guards will remain outside of it. It won’t be enough, but we’ll have the compound’s defenses.

That was fine with her. She cleared her throat. “Your master’s second envoy has arrived, so I’ll take my leave to receive him.”

Maria’s mouth was a cold slit across her face, curving up dangerously. “I hope he’s as good of company as I.”

Clara smiled, letting some aggression show on her face. “We’ll see.”

The doors opened, revealing the hallway and two guards that she didn’t recognize. It seemed she’d be expected to find her own way back.

Figures that they didn’t want to wait to send an escort to grab me. As she walked through the stark halls, she almost felt like she was back in the subterranean labs in Saispar, where much of the Infinity Loop research was ongoing. The place had never been particularly inviting, at least not in the places she was in charge of. She liked to keep things clean, neat–professional. Others tried to make their labs cozy, putting up little signs or posters outside their doors, but she found that misguided.

They weren’t down in the massive, classified complex to have fun and be friends. They were there to conduct the most important research of at least the century. That should be all the motivation they needed.

At least, that’s what she had thought. Now that she knew the truth of her ambitions, the lab felt… hollow. The dimly-lit hallway around her now suddenly felt claustrophobic.

She shook off an involuntary shudder and strode into the lift. Just act normal, she told herself. Once you’re with him, just do your part and don’t mention Maria. Easy.

As the lift slowed, marking the end of its journey through the earth, Clara exhaled and steeled herself.

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When the doors opened, her escorts from before, Bellestoy and Fitson, were waiting for her. They appeared calm, so she figured they were just skilled in controlling their expressions. She’d convinced them all earlier that Maria’s presence was both a test and a threat. The envoy’s presence, on the other hand… it was supposed to be the real deal. Dunai himself.

Of the people gathered in the compound, Clara was probably the only one who’d actually been around an ascendant, or at least knew that she’d been around an ascendant. No one in the compound was aware of Maria’s true strength.

That made it easier for her to keep focused and unfazed. She nodded to her escorts, then headed for the arrival chamber again.

Within, Achemiss waited for her under a false guise. Ian Dunai, she thought to herself. Don’t think of him as anything else. She wasn’t worried about slipping up–she figured the necromantic oath would prevent it. But she needed to mentally think of Achemiss as Dunai to better act her part. Achemiss was a terrifying, paranoid, murderous ascendant who thought nothing of destroying the world. Dunai was a stoic and dangerous ascendant, but he didn’t have a bad reputation. She needed to treat Achemiss like he wasn’t evil.

You still don’t know for sure that he even is evil, she thought, the enduring skepticism of a researcher showing itself. Her heart wasn’t in it.

The door fell away with a hiss.

Ian Dunai stood a few feet outside the door, his expression inscrutable. Clara looked for any imperfections in the disguise and found none. He looked perfectly human, just like the real Dunai. Seeing him as a physical construct, rather than the projection in the assembly chamber, made everything feel so much more real.

This is the enemy of the world.

She smiled politely and bowed her head. “Ascendant Dunai. Welcome to the compound.”

He returned the expression, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Not the warmest welcome,” he mused, his gaze wandering over the hangar. “But I’m not here for a vacation.” His eyes once again fixed on her, scrutinizing. Intelligent. Completely ignoring the escorts despite their high military ranks. “I’ll keep this visit quick. Bring me to the classified subject first. Then we can move on to the rifts.”

The original plan had been to do that in reverse order. It didn’t really matter, but the deviation felt like a portent of ill events to come. Dread gnawed at Clara’s stomach.

“Of course,” she said, gesturing to the side for Achemiss to exit the hangar. He sauntered out, his eyes fixed on her.

She led him down the hallway in silence. She doubted Ian Dunai would appreciate small talk; Achemiss probably less so.

But he surprised her. “How did you acquire the classified subject?”

She didn’t know–the information was highly restricted. She glanced at the escorts.

“Fortuitous circumstances,” Bellestoy finally said.

Achemiss’s lips curled. “Fortuitous? Or opportunistic?”

None of them replied.

They couldn’t reach the deepest level of the compound fast enough. Clara’s nerves threatened to betray her as she led them deeper. She clasped her hands tightly to hide the tremors.

Her mind kept cycling the same phrase over and over. The enemy of the world.

Shut. Up.

She reached the end of a short, featureless hallway lit only by two lights on either side of a thin door. Achemiss stood next to her, gazing at the door in curiosity.

Clara took a step forward and a projection manifested before her. General Kelvanne, the highest ranked officer in the compound, stared imperiously at the group. Fitson and Bellestoy saluted.

“Ascendant Dunai,” Kelvanne began, “we ask that you linger only for fifteen minutes at most, to limit the subject’s degradation.”

Achemiss’s construct stand-in nodded. “It’ll be mine soon enough. This is just a preliminary confirmation.”

Nobody bothered to correct the ascendant that, technically, there had never been an official agreement that the classified subject would be given up. They’d only agreed to give Dunai access, but they’d assumed he’d insist on taking the subject with him–by force, if necessary.

The presence of Maria had only played into those expectations.

The door split down the center, retracting into the wall and leaving bare a narrow passage illuminated by bright white panels on the ceiling. Clara blinked as her eyes adjusted. The corridor was small enough that they went in single file. Clara tried to ignore the sensation that Achemiss was boring a hole into her with his gaze.

Along the wall were a few bare metal doors, each with an identifying number. Clara stopped at the number 11. She grasped the knob and opened it, revealing what looked like a morgue. Goosebumps rose along Clara’s arms from the cold.

As they crossed the threshold, an opaque rectangular pillar rose from the floor. It exuded a slight chill from the front, though the backside ran hot to the touch. They gathered around it in a rough circle, Fitson and Bellestoy flanking Clara while Achemiss stood on the opposite side. He appeared to be scrutinizing the pillar–likely trying to see what lay within.

“Refrigeration?” the imposter asked, his brows pinching together in obvious displeasure.

Clara would have snorted in derision at any other guest. “No,” she said simply, not deigning to give away more information than necessary to her adversary.

Suddenly, the pillar’s dark exterior became clear, the color draining away. Within the pillar was a woman’s figure, her form naked aside from the thin white shroud that covered her from shoulder to thigh. It looked like she was encased in glass.

“Is the classified subject to your expectations?” Clara asked.

Ian Dunai leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing. “My construct uses vital energy to perceive the world–whatever this pillar is made from, it’s preventing the transmission of Life and Death energy.”

Clara nodded. “And that’s why the general asked that we spend only fifteen minutes here.” She then pressed a finger to the pillar, manifesting a projection screen full of configuration options, not that Clara needed them. The pillar was highly sophisticated, on the level of technology like glosSwords. Anything she needed, she could request mentally.

Hello Clara, it said, an almost childish voice speaking into her mind. What do you need?

Pause preservation, she thought back.

Are you sure?

Yes.

The pillar’s interior shattered, filling with countless dark cracks. Then it melted and drained away, though Clara knew that much of the fluid still filled the subject’s body, preventing it from breaking down or collapsing. She’d said to pause preservation, not completely end it.

Soon, all that remained was a thin shell made from glosslike material. That piece would remain to protect the body from foreign contaminants. It’s why they hadn’t needed to go through an extensive sanitization process or put on clean suits.

It was thin enough that their visitor should have no trouble seeing through it.

“This is the ascendant you killed, isn’t it?” Clara asked, trying to gauge some reaction, even if she knew that every expression the construct made was deliberately controlled by its distant master.

“Yes,” he said. “Where are her artifacts?”

Clara paused. “Anything on her body was separated for other studies.”

“Interesting. Are they in this facility?”

“I believe so.”

“I need them.” Before Clara could muster a response, he had already turned around, heading for the exit. “Let’s continue–I’ve seen enough.”