Grant opened his eyes and looked around his mind palace. It… had grown?

The central hall in which he met Ki most of the time was pretty damn large already, so it was difficult to tell at first glance, but the more he looked around the more he became certain that the space was bigger than before. It hadn’t doubled in size by any means, but it was certainly bigger. Not only that, but the walls seemed to be… more solid, somehow. They didn’t look any different, but just seeing them, he could tell that they were far stronger than before.

“Rather interesting, isn’t it?” Ki said from behind him.

Grant turned to see Ki sitting in his usual place, looking around the room with undisguised curiosity.

“Yeah, it is,” Grant said, striding over to him. “What… what exactly happened? Is this just a natural thing caused by your powers, or what?”

Ki shook his head. “No, I do not believe so. For one, it was not like this earlier, otherwise I would have told you. It was only when you fell asleep with the intent of entering this place that this change manifested. As for what caused it, I believe that this may be due to your stunt a few days back where you rather foolishly pushed your body to the brink in an attempt to save Fyodor. I think that your mind and body has better adapted to the extreme flow of energy that surged throughout your body, and increased the ceiling of your abilities somewhat.”

Grant cocked a brow. “Huh… that sounds awesome. Wait, doesn’t that mean I could just do this again? Imbue my body fully, do something stupid, drain myself, and then come back here?” He grinned widely. “Did we just discover an infinite glitch?”

Ki shook his head again. “No, certainly not,” he said sternly. “For one, you forget the state your mind and soul were in after you did that. You damaged your being quite badly, and it is nothing short of a miracle that in your recovery you seem to have grown stronger. If you try that again, and push yourself too far for even a second longer than you should, this place will not merely crack, but shatter, and your mind along with it.”

Grant deflated slightly. “Well… still, what if I just do it a little? Like, just for a second or something?”

“No!” Ki said furiously. “If I even begin to sense you pulling such a stunt, I will violate our agreement and take control of your body. I cannot emphasise enough how utterly hare-brained the notion is. You will fail and die and damage me alongside you, and your planet will be doomed. Understood?”

Grant deflated even more. “Fine, fine. I get it… and you’re right. As much as I love glitches, soul glitches aren’t the type I wanna mess around with. So, let’s talk about something else. The Aziza, maybe?”

Ki frowned. “No, not yet. I believe, first and foremost, I should reveal to you the final piece of information still withheld after our initial meeting. I mentioned that our plan is to find the Final Door, and kill Muirenn so we can escape. However… the reason we must find it is probably not what you expect.”

He waved his hand.

“It is simple.” Ki smiled. “We must find the Final Door.”

Grant laughed. “Well, I was never going to guess your plan if it involves something you hadn’t mentioned yet, so I feel better about that. So what, pray tell, is the Final Door?”

“The final facet of Imhotep’s plan,” Ki answered. “You remember before, I mentioned that part of the plan was centred on the mindless desperation of the Numen to get back to Earth? Well, it was decided that simply counting on their nature would not be sufficient. So, woven into the fabric of the world, and further encouraged by Muirenn, were hints. Whispers of an exit, of a flaw in the worlds we had made. Ancient images, writings, traces of magic, all pointing to a door. The Final Door. The one at the edge of this reality, a door that was heavily guarded and kept secret. An escape. A path to the outside, if the Numen could only locate it.

“It is important to note now that, despite their consciousness being locked away and deprived of power, that each Numen still has some influence over the mind and body of their host. While many of the hosts would be eager enough to return home regardless, the Numen’s mind instils a drive, a need to escape, to find the door that will be their salvation. They exert their influence in other ways, too, in the style of speech, their dress, their identity, even their attitudes. This Bukola you met, for example, is almost certainly as aggressive as he is because he is host to a particularly warmongering Source. Over the centuries he has been alive, his thoughts have been more and more affected and shaped by the being hoping to puppet him around. So, because the idea of the Final Door was part of the very universe we now inhabit, each Numen became aware of it, and hungered for it. And as a result, each host also hungers for it, however little they are aware of the drive.”

Grant stared at Ki for a moment. “I… need some time to process that”

Ki nodded his acquiescence. “Of course.”

They continued walking through the void of Grant’s mind, in silence.

“Well…” said Grant some time later. “I think I’m mostly done processing this little tidbit. And, to put it mildly, I’m upset to learn that Sources can influence their hosts like that. How do I know you haven’t influenced me?”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Grant and Ki had been wandering through the void for some time now, and Grant was surprised to see, in the distance, that they had returned to the area with the houses Ki had pulled from his memories, albeit that they were now approaching them from the other side. Guess my mind isn’t infinite, he thought. Disappointed that it’s this small though. He chuckled.

Ki raised an eyebrow at the chuckle, clearly not understanding it in light of Grant’s prior statement. “I understand why you would be worried by that, but you don’t need to fear. Even if I wished to do so, it would take far more time than we have spent together to begin to have even the mildest impact on your desires. Indeed, if I wished to, it would be far simpler for me to simply attempt to wrest control from you. Not to say that would be easy given my current state - just easier.”

“Good. But, that's just part of how I’m feeling. Cause regardless of if you can influence me… everyone else out there is still being slowly warped into a mini version of the gods in their heads, if I understood you correctly.”

“You do not,” Ki stated. “While it is true that they are being influenced, it is not as drastic as you are implying. I should have been clearer, but the influence I am talking about, it does not change, it merely… emphasises. Each host is chosen by their Source because of an already existing similarity between the two, that makes their minds compatible. Again, using Bukola as an example, while he may be more aggressive now, I promise you, he would not have been a peaceful man in his prior life. The impact of the Numen’s personality is perhaps most akin to living with someone for a long time. If you were to live in the same room as someone for dozens or hundreds of years, you would inevitably pick up certain characteristics and opinions of that individual merely through exposure. That is what we are talking about here, not ‘warping’, as you stated.”

Grant frowned, thinking. “But… if that’s true, does that mean that the host also slowly changes the Numen? A change like you’re talking about would be two-way, after all.”

Ki shook his head. “No, sadly, it will not. For one, the effect of the Numen on the host is subconscious, and therefore far more subtle and harder to recognise. To extend the analogy, perhaps it would be better to imagine not living with someone and adapting their views, but something more subliminal. Whispers that fill the room, perhaps. For another reason, there is a large difference between a human who is maybe thirty years old when they first arrive here, compared to us gods who have lived for thousands of years. We are far more set in our ways. Not to mention, my brethren were never the most adaptable anyway.”

Grant thought about it more and sighed. “Well I still don’t like it much, but I guess it is what it is.”

They wandered into the final house, Grant’s current living space. He led Ki to the kitchen, and poured them both a cup of green tea, pulled from a particularly fond memory of a tea he had shared with a girl he had once invited over.

“So,” Grant said, sitting down at the table, “getting back on topic - we search for the door. What exactly would that accomplish if it’s not even real?”

“Well,” Ki said, sipping his tea and nodding appreciatively, “the door is not just an area to focus on. The plan was also to use it as a barometer to test if any host was getting close to the power where they would soon be possessed. The door does exist, you see - it just isn’t what the Numen think it is. And it is indeed guarded, most ferociously I imagine. But more than that, Muirenn’s plan when we created the door - and I hope she did not change her mind over the years - was to set up even more traps of her own, so that she would be alerted if anyone located it. I believe that we, however, possess far more power than Muirenn could have planned for. So we should easily be able to overcome any traps she has laid. Then, we set a trap of our own. We wait for her to come to check who has located the door, and we will finally know who she is. Whether we confront her immediately, or try to disguise our identity and escape, we can decide later. But either way, we will know. That seems to me to be the most surefire way to get her to reveal herself.”

Grant thought over this plan, analysing it with his new, albeit surely still lacking, knowledge. “I guess it sounds like it could work,” he said uncertainly. “But do you know how we locate it in the first place?”

“Sadly, no. But, we have time. I suspect it will take several months, maybe even a year, until I feel you are practised enough with my power to survive any obstacle in our way. During that time, I am certain that you will be inducted into the search for the final door at some point - I suspect that Suriya or Ed is in charge of the search, given the conversation you had with them. Once they have revealed the hints they have gathered, I am sure that my knowledge of the nature of the Vault, and of Muirenn, will help us find the location.”

Grant drummed his fingers on the table, deep in thought. “Okay. I can see that working. It sounds like there’ll be some guesswork and some improvisation, but… yeah. I see the promise. Although, there’s definitely subtleties to the situation that I don’t know.”

Ki shifted slightly.

“What?” Grant asked, noticing his discomfort.

Ki sighed. “Well. There is one more essential step to the plan. You see, at least a few of the Numen, and more importantly, Muirenn, are practised telepaths. That was the key to step one, you will recall - creating a shield to stop them hearing our conversations, so we can talk freely during the day. However, telepathy is… not just searching minds. It is a… passive ability, to term it how you would appreciate. If you were to wake right now, with this new understanding of the universe, of the Vault, of Muirenn, of the Numen… well, your mind could not keep that quiet. You would be effectively screaming in the face of any telepath you meet, as your brain struggles to adjust to the truths I have told. Even just thinking the word ‘Numen’ at the wrong time could spell our doom, alerting Muirenn to your knowledge, and she would strike. So, to prevent this, we must… redistribute your memories.”

Grant stared at him hard. “What exactly do you mean, ‘redistribute’?” he asked suspiciously.

Ki raised his hands in peace. “Do not fear, this is not something I can do. This must be your choice, and your actions. I wish for you to lock away the conversation we have just had. Everything for the past few hours, locked away in a box, until you have developed your mental shields, and we can begin to slowly let the memories trickle back into your mind, at such a rate that they do not pose a danger to our agenda. I cannot influence sections of your mind like that, though I can show you how to do so. We can set safeguards in place - if any information is essential to your survival or actions, you will regain that memory. Otherwise, I will occasionally… open the box, I suppose. The memory recovery will have to be distributed over a number of weeks, or maybe even months, to ensure that we remain safe.”

Grant searched Ki’s eyes, looking for any sign of deceit. He sighed. “Fine. I trust you, I guess. How do we do it?”