Starry ceilings. Woid stayed close to Serib as she rushed up the doubling-helix stairs, always remaining a case ahead of her:

“I could do with a little more notice, you know.”

She wanted to change what the unseen ceilings of stars were telling, to project and propel their sight far as hers had seen. Who knows how she planned to do that, including her. Though why: to show Argus the shores Beyond. The shores Before; when there was only one star and that star had not yet split into others proliferate throughout the darkness. Before the birth of divisions, of here and there, of suffering at all. All of us led there by a girl that was not Serib, through a Viridian Smog. Strange visions as her heavy steps were dull against the fallen carpet, itself embroidered with such similar tales. She spotted a distant and tall grandclock on another mirrored-or-reflected floor as she passed by Woid sitting on another ring of steps; he was sniffing the air up there:

“What chemicals are those?”

Beyond him a foggy steam filled the stairway and Serib unable to see through it fell headfirst - the floor was no longer there. She heard paper and fabric alike being ripped. Falling through flitting scenes.

∞

She fell through caustic steam crashing onto something glass or metal, large and hollow ringing loudly. Unseen ceilings of stars hurtled dark above her. Unable to grab anything useful she slipped further down the sloping sides of something, sunlight shining blindingly off the surface of whatever it was. Some latch or handle she managed to grip with one hand, the rest of her hanging off the edge. Laser fire was pounding below (thankfully not at her!), visibly darting through the constant mist.

∞

Woid sat casually above her, his fancy shoes dangling by her face:

“With one arm? What right have you to be so strong…”

Having been helped up, Serib moved her sore arm and shoulder around.

“You alright?” Woid asked her, as around them a factory of some sort hissed and bellowed with belches of chemical steam.

Souls were dying by the many without chance to yell in pain such was the rifle-fire hailing down accurate. Monks and arachnid-warriors alike.

“Panzjrah’s rifle, according to my ears. We’d best help him, just for the look on his face when he’s in our debt. Quite outnumbered.” Woid mused.

The mist for a moment cleared enough to show The Ersecutor that Argus would later become, his weighted net-cape draping behind him, leaping with athletic ease over the handrails of a walkway not far away. Pursuing.

“Ah, best not…” Woid argued with himself. “...as you’re the one he’s after.”

“I agree with Shay before she left, I don’t want to run anymore.” Serib puffed out her earthen strength and pride.

“Listen…” Woid tried.

Alas.

∞

Arachnids were skittering up to the starry ceiling as holy sunlight swung in through open windows.

“Shay?” Both Serib and Woid said or saw, seeing their friend-in-disguise escape through such a window, and all the rafters leading there.

And beyond the distant window, aged lineages strobed impossibly through all the colours light and shadow know. Skies burning or in blue. Serib and Woid were immediately on the move trying to find a way from this structure to those same rafters. The young shaman was slipping here and there, her robes still dripping from the rain.

∞

Large-long robes caught their attention below, spinning jumping up through the mist, gravity being not something in that instant obeyed; a cyclops-monk landing atop the mist-hissing platform that unseen Panzjrah was firing from, the monk diving then swallowed by thick steam. Grunts ensued in a melee and carried on as the sporadic shots stopped. Bodies slammed on metal, swords rang, or similar such battling sounds. Woid umbra-stepped while holding Serib's hand to surpass the angles and ledges where shadow reigned.

∞

An obscenely broad-headed silhouette awaited Woid and Serib on the rafters they now were hurrying along. Balancing there on the narrows in gladiatorial stance, his net-cape draping over one side and broken sword the other. The holy sunlight making dark his place ahead, and Serib felt his eyes watch-crawling all over, as even her thoughts were being observed. Woid kept Serib behind him, though Argus spoke through the rogue dismissively - directly to the young shaman:

“You are wearing those lightning robes, and Shay is not with you. That is how I know: this is the lineage and version where I can set right what has gone horribly wrong. It is as told on the woven pages of Fate, from futures where I am reinstated in these my reconverted spires. Constants the same and variables rearranged. Follow me, Serib.”

∞

“Oi.” Woid shouted at Argus’ threat, giving his back-hand dagger a deadly throw.

It struck precisely off of The Ersecutor’s helmet having flown a great length, falling then into the hisses below. It was already back in Woid’s hand without sense or explanation, and his shirt fancier than ever with flowery-lined patterns and frill-cuffs that had to them a disorienting quality, making it strangely difficult for Serib to see precisely see how afar or close Woid was.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“That my eyes will be dazzled is your hope?” Argus mocked.

And so ensued their second duel - among the rafters and unseen ceiling of a merging place or space converged, where once had or will again be shrines from factories, where shall again or already have been observatories and museums. A cube. A sphere of mazes. In Time and Timelessness amalgam. As Serib watched on small she felt a swell in the sky her own, and there thundered yet darker clouds, and her eyes with lightning grew. She wished Shay had not left the club nor climbed out of that sunny window. Away. She cried out as Woid took Argus’ pommel to the jaw, though with quick slashes of his dagger he retaliated and The Ersecutor shrunk to a more defensive stance.

∞

Serib was certain she caught sight of a tall grandclock staring at her from the dark up here, when the broken blade of Argus and Woid’s shadowy dagger clashed loud and bright among the foggy clouds, tapering their fight along the thin bones of the unseen ceiling where stars moved odd. Woid could land a quick punch or kick on Panzjrah’s body, though layered were his arena-scars and impervious to such strikes - even stabs did not pierce through. With fine footwork he gained a good position, lunging viciously at The Ersectuor’s holed-helmet, though it only sent Woid recoiling back along the rafter. It is said such a technique of Woid’s was known to surpass even the thickest armour.

“Worth a go.” He shrugged, irritating his foe.

Another laser round fired below. Less frequent. Picking off whatever still moved within range. Monks and spiders were climbing the shrines to reach this higher place and Serib against all wishes but her own, stepped closer to the duel.

∞

After another exchange of blades Woid fell back - nearly falling off the narrow rafter. Argus readied his weighted net-cape and tossed it after the rogue. All too predictably Woid umbra-stepped closer to avoid the trap, and in momentum bury his dagger in The Ersecutor’s gut. What mere inches or less were involved! As Argus parried Woid and butted him with his helm; teeth flew from The Shadow’s mouth. Serib gasped further forwards and Woid fell below vanishing into the mist, appearing again upon the rafter just as his dagger had. The Ersectuor held his gut, bleeding.

Arena-scarred Argus crouched into another ready stance, more defensive than the last: "My immortal flesh 'pervious'... how old must your dagger be?"

“Old as Falsehood, pal. You should’ve watched more closely.”

∞

Facing Serib then and keeping his back to The Ersecutor, the skin above Woid’s eye was cut, flooding his vision bloody. He was trying to blink and brush it off, and though bloodied his gums no teeth were missing as he smiled, and Serib saw one tooth alone crooked, and she knew it was not so twisted from the blow he had received. Argus said through the rising smoke:

“You are caught in the tyrannical dreams of a conscious Entropy, wayward prince.”

Serib was aghast, that Woid was the prince Shay once had loved.

“Is that what they call it? Heh.” Woid spat blood again into the deep, still facing Serib and regaining his breath. “Seems more like love to me.”

Argus continued:

“Does not your Township warrant some semblance of a pang from you? Where skulks what could be, your glorious sense of duty!”

Woid turned to bow and waved, adding every royal fancy he could fathom, long drilled and trained into him since a young age:

“I am sure as you are, Watcher, that my 'father' will rule it well enough. You should've watched more closely, as I said. You don't even know what prince I really am. Shadows are my royal cloak and crown, for realm and heart belike. More heart, really.”

∞

“Then you have not misplaced all your tutored grace… all the better to take with you and return to a more destined place. You could put end to those plays defaming your name.”

“Ah yeah, those’d be my top task. Can’t have that.” Woid walked closer to Serib along the narrow, staring wistfully at his dagger. “I’m not leaving.” He assured her, not for a moment watching where he was going, replying to The Ersecutor with the same words.

Serib had never seen him walk, always slipping from place to place instead. He was also bleeding from his side, and Argus’ broken sword dripped blood into the fog.

“You were no match for me in the station where much space and darkness you had. Here narrow in sunlight, what en’shadowed hope do you still cling to, so far from Truth removed? Your tricks cannot hide you from my eyes.”

Storms darkened-by the windows; the sunlight flickering as Serib tensed her fingers into a fist.

∞

Woid kept his back to the looming Ersecutor, crouching down to Serib:

“I’ll tell you somewhile, how it all worked out.” He kept looking at his dagger, avoiding her eyes, as she looked at his one crooked tooth through his smirk. "My family's dynasty fell, you'll see - after I killed another prince and took his place. Give them some layers to chew through."

A dark indigo jewel was studded into his tooth. He spat again down into the swirling chemical fog.

“Bloody silly, really, how me and Shay met.” He whispered, wiping the open cut above his eye.

“You already did tell me.” She smiled, thinking and searching her thoughts for a way out of this.

“I did? That’s good, then. So - his ears might not be so good as his eyes, so tell me softly… have you any shaman tricks to help me out here?”

∞

The lightning in her eyes swelled:

“I’ve remembered something…”

“One of Lay’d Payn’s riddles?” Woid supposed.

“No… something of my own.” Serib breathed deeply. “Follow the thunder.”

“Eh?”

Serib’s fingers replied into even tighter fists and thunder raged nearby, the lightning somehow striking somewhat after. As she raised her arms Argus flinched fearfully, the lightning bright against his ever-open eyes. Woid winked and as Serib blinked he vanished back over to his foe, still facing away from The Ersecutor, goading him outstretched without defence.