The Chapel showers were a welcome sight. Despite my ordeal, I hadn’t taken anything worse than a moderate bruising. I changed into a spare set of basic clothes and took the armour home where it could dry.

Barely had I done so than I received a summons. Sliding back to the Chapel and the infinite staircase, I expected to land back with Alushex and Flinq, but instead found myself entering a vast, unfamiliar chamber.

It was about the size of a ballroom, entirely panelled in stained glass except for the floor, which reflected the walls and ceiling. Each panel depicted an intricate scene, too many to keep track of at one time. Dozens of them decorated the walls, with no shelving this time to obscure them.

In the centre of the room, no desk to be seen, stood a figure I recognised. I was fairly sure I'd been wrong earlier about her being a Hex.

I aimed towards her, noting the stained glass scenes shifting and changing to more familiar subjects as I did. A young blue-haired boy playfully chased an insect and recoiled as the hornet bit his hand, only to retaliate and kill it a few steps later.

“Did I pass?” I asked dryly, coming to a halt in front of the many-eyed woman. “I helped kill Jadal Cai.”

The woman stared at me evenly, waiting a few seconds before replying. “This isn’t a test,” she responded. “It’s a consult. Sajjpen requested one for you. 'You' being Lamutri, an adequately-performing Tri with under-performing augments.”

“Oh, good,” I said, eyes flicking towards the walls. I had no memory of any of the events playing out before me. “Maybe now you can tell me what you meant by ‘my window closing’.”

The woman smiled. “Call me Nysept,” she said, ignoring the question. “I’ve reviewed your situation. In light of your service and to compensate for poor fortune, the Chapel is prepared to offer an exception to standard procedure.”

Extending a hand, her fingers uncurled to reveal a small marble underneath.

“This is an augment upgrade,” Nysept continued. “It does not come for free, and will not work on any grade above a Defect. If you accept this, the cost will be taken out of your earnings from now until the debt is repaid. Of course, you may not wish to accept.”

Reading between the lines, the Chapel didn’t want Near Miss triggering any more incidents like Jadal Cai. We were definitely on the same page there. Sending a Sept to do it, no less, gave away its perceived importance.

I stared down at the answer to my problems, gifted to me on a convenient platter. Physically, it looked no different to a regular augment. I’d never heard of the Chapel fast-tracking anyone before, not that the term really applied. I’d be committed to paying the debt back for many years, even with the bonus from today, which meant becoming a Quad would remain a distant dream.

Exactly like Near Miss wanted.

It had tried to stop me killing Jadal Cai, possibly for the same reason. Now that I had the bonus from the mission, or was about to, it was resorting to different measures.

The thought immediately put me off. Capitulating to the whims of a Defective augment rubbed me the wrong way, especially since it stopped me advancing.

But on the other hand, finally having a functional core was the kind of reward it was worth paying for. I’d be able to use it the way it was intended, making the extra years more tolerable. It would stop contaminating my other augments into Defects. Thinking back to my conversation with Imbertri, an upgrade would also mean I’d know for sure.

I reached out and picked it up.

“Interesting,” said Nysept, which struck me as an odd reaction. She lowered the hand, though the eyes on it continued to watch me. “Our business today is concluded.”

“Wait,” I interrupted before she could disappear, “Was that the choice you said I would have to make?”

“If I told you, it would inform your decision,” she said.

“Of course it would. That’s the…”

And she was gone.

“…point,” I finished, and sighed.

Around me, the stained glass panels faded one by one. I'd remained professional and avoided being distracted by the stories within them, but they'd been centred around the same person. In some, it was a small blue-haired boy in a universe I hadn’t thought about for a long time. In others, he was older and more regimented, with more patchwork colouring his skin. In many he wasn’t human at all, but took the shape of a variety of vessels traversing the multiverse.

I didn’t remember the scenes depicted, and concluded they were made up. That, or represented possibilities that might have been. I focused in on a fading panel containing someone like me delivering the final blow to someone like Jadal Cai. He looked much cooler than the real me.

Alone in the empty hall, I looked down at the priceless treasure in my fingers and wondered if I’d made the right decision. All this talk of choices.

I’d never met a Sept before. Seen them from a distance, once or twice. Third-tiers were the true immortals, powerhouses of Chapel structure and what we all aspired to. There were many more of them than members in the lower tiers, given the age of the organisation and its continual upwards flow, but still very little cross-pollination. I assumed they mostly disappeared into the multiverse after doing their time, occasionally checking back to make sure Fate ticked along.

Other than being annoyingly cryptic, Nysept hadn’t been so intimidating.

But no two operatives developed the same, even when using identical augments. Past agents had tried.

The longer I waited, the more of a chance I gave Near Miss to interfere with my life decisions. Smothering my doubts, I passed the marble into my mouth and swallowed.

For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, like a long-lost sense pressing in at the edge of my awareness, I felt ripples of potential ability.

An augment would have continued to grow, punching through that invisible wall of limitation in order to become part of me.

The upgrade did not. It continued to simmer annoyingly just out of reach. I had to chase after it, and when I did, the path ahead forked.

Down one fork, I was aware, I could upgrade Gear Shift. There’d be no more turning into trucks or spaceships, just the Par-grade standard ability to summon them, with limited control over which. Years of acclimatisation must have warped my perception, because it felt like it would be a downgrade. The upgrade itself felt like a vacuum waiting to be unsealed, a hole of pressure and suction tearing the augment back into its proper shape. A smaller one.

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Down the other branch, I could fix World Slide. This one was sorely tempting. It would be nice to end up where I meant to a hundred percent of the time. I didn’t see a downside.

But there was only one target I wanted to address, and it was absent. I probed the upgrade, checking for anything I could be missing, but nothing was to be found. The longer I took, the more urgent the need to make a decision became, weighing in with uncomfortable pressure.

Nausea welled in my throat. I refused to give in. Not after I’d gone through so much to get this chance, and would be paying it off for who knew how many years.

But nothing came to light. Until right at the edge – right when I could barely stand it any longer – I thought I caught something.

It didn’t feel like an augment.

My stomach heaved, and I hacked up the upgrade without taking it in, barely catching it in a puddle in my hand. I continued to gag for another half minute before my stomach calmed, leaving me feeling ultimately worse than before.

Crushing disappointment overcame me. I felt shaky, mind sliding off the obvious implications. Fumbling, I wiped the saliva off on my tunic and tucked the upgrade in a pouch to clean properly later. This was the worst-case scenario, where I’d won neither augment nor upgrade, was no better off than before, and would remain so for a long time.

I could, of course, minimise my losses and upgrade World Slide. But if Near Miss was somehow, counter-intuitively, an actual Arch that had twisted my augments, then I wanted to know why.

I had to speak to Imbertri.

I turned back towards the door, only to witness it open ahead of me.

Alushex stepped through. He eyed the hall’s expansive measurements with a flicker of curiosity, but quickly returned his attention to me. He’d dried off and cleaned up, back to being pretty again other than the bandages wrapped around his palms. Those would heal quickly.

By the time I reached him, he had a note waiting.

[Summons don’t seem to be working on you right now,] I read. [I came to find you in person. We can’t find Jadal’s soul.]

I passed the slip back, glad for the distraction. “Don’t look at me,” I said. “I don’t know what happened to it. Maybe he didn’t have one.”

[Every Rein has a soul,] Alushex replied, with the ‘every’ underlined. [Flinq is looking into it, in case it did turn up for an interview. She’s looking forward to seeing you back at the office, and we need to give you your pay.]

“I don’t think that will be happening,” I said. “Not the pay part; I need that. But I’m going to be a Tri for the foreseeable future.”

I expected the usual sympathetic reaction, but instead Alushex gave me an appraising look. It wasn't the first time, either.

“Is there something about second-tier I should be concerned about?” I pressed, seizing the opportunity. “Does it play badly with Defects?”

He paused for a long moment before writing, which wasn’t the reaction I’d been expecting. Ominous shivers travelled down my spine. [No,] he passed me eventually. [There are things I’m not allowed to tell you. But you should try to fix Defects sooner rather than later.]

“Like your breathing issue?”

I’d put it together only seconds before the words escaped my mouth. Lots of small details had changed since he’d advanced to Hex, both personality-wise and physically. It wasn’t just the mutism, but the different body language, the comparative stillness, and the way it showed up in a fight. All the things breathing was required for that we took for granted. Now that I’d realised, I couldn’t unsee it.

Alushex gave me a wry smile. [I picked Unwinded,] he wrote. [Versatile and subtle. And affordable. It’s underrated when it works, and it plays well with Lucky Find. But now I’m stuck with a Defect. I miss talking.]

“What about an upgrade?” I asked, conscious of the one in my pouch.

He shook his head. [That’s the other thing I came to say,] he said. [With this last job, I’m about to advance to third-tier. We might not see each other again.]

I squinted at him. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Because you seem terrified. You’ve been stressed since I’ve seen you lately. It can’t just be the not breathing. I spend half my life as transportation; I know what that’s like and it’s not that bad.”

Alushex scanned the room. He paced a few steps further in, sat on the floor and gestured for me to join him. [I told you there are some things I can’t tell you,] he scribed, then dropped the hand holding the pencil and closed his eyes. After a long moment, he picked it up again. [Because cores are so rare, and they need us. They’re worried we’ll run.]

I felt my eyes widen as a cold feeling spread throughout my chest. Alushex was already scratching over his words in thick strokes to render them illegible. “Why would we run?”

I watched him gear up to sigh and catch himself when he couldn’t. He winced instead. [I don’t want to hit third tier,] he admitted. [I thought I did. But they’re…] The pencil trailed off as I looked at the pad over his shoulder. […not like us.]

“I met a Sept just before you arrived,” I contributed. “Right here. She wasn’t so bad.”

The Hex drew back, alarmed. [That’s a coincidence.]

“I don’t know,” I pushed. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Fate put us both here to have this conversation. I think the Chapel is trying to nudge me into something. Trying to figure out what is the hard part.”

[They’ll want you in second-tier,] Alushex scribed back immediately. [You should have already been here years ago, and frankly, it’s suspicious you haven’t. Looks like it’s finally come up on their radar.]

“Why is that important?” I asked.

[Someone needs to fill the gap,] he wrote simply. [When I move up, someone needs to replace me. If they don’t, who will kill Reins? And everyone’s always moving up.]

“Except me,” I noted. “But it doesn’t check out. That meeting I had is what’s currently keeping me at first-tier.”

[Then I agree, it doesn’t make sense.]

“You could just not move up yet,” I said, stating the obvious. “Give it a while and join me in the deadbeats club.”

He grinned, but it didn’t last. He swallowed as the words took shape on the page. [I have to. That’s the truth about second-tier: it’s only ever a waypoint. By the time you get here, it’s too late.]

“Well, I knew that already.”

He shook his head. [I don’t mean dying of old age. There’s a –] he paused while writing, [– hunger. The higher your rank, the worse it gets.]

“You’re mean you're addicted? To augments?”

[We all are. And while I could hold back, the fact is, I’m hungry all the time.]

"Then won't third-tier only be worse?"

[I asked the same thing. Everyone asks the same thing. Apparently it does stop.]

“But…” I encouraged him.

[There’s a reason you don’t see them around,] he said. [It scares me. I’ve already lost my voice. I don’t know how much of me will be left on the other side.]

I pursed my lips trying to think of a response. “If it was that bad,” I said, “why would they draw you up? They could cap all of us at first-tier if they wanted and still get the job done. And we'd have far more agents on the roster. But I will draw your attention to that shitty elevator I had to become on Irwol. Take it from me, no matter how much you change, the important bits will be there. And there’s also this.” I retrieved the pouch from my belt containing the upgrade and deposited it in his hand. “Just wash and disinfect it first.”

Alushex looked at me quizzically. He moved to open the drawstrings, and I held him back with a slight cough.

“It’s an upgrade. Just – really – clean it.”

The Hex raised his eyebrows at me. [Are you giving this to me?]

“Absolutely,” I confirmed, not at all certain.

[This is insanity,] he protested, thrusting the bag back with the note attached. [Upgrade Near Miss. Or any of your others.]

“Can’t,” I said.

[That’s impossible. Unless you’ve been Near Missed again.]

“At this point, I don’t know,” I said, a desperate laugh escaping me. “But what I do know is that it’ll be helpful to you. And as you say, it’s one hell of a coincidence.”

[This represents – what – ten, twenty years? You’ll be middle-aged by the time you pay it back!]

“Thanks to Gear Shift, I don’t need to hit second-tier to stay young. I just need to not die.” I handed it back. “I’m serious.”

The implications hit me as the words left my mouth, as if I was only hearing them for the first time. It had been something I’d known, of course, but hadn’t fully registered. Things I'd taken for granted looked different under the context of an Arch, even though nothing had practically changed. The chain of events. Near Miss had led to a Defective World Slide, which in turn had led to a Defective Gear Shift in my attempts at preservation, the exact faulty combination leading me to achieve immortality – albeit a more precarious and conditional variant – two entire tiers too early.

I didn’t know what to think about that.

[You really are,] Alushex wrote in reply, shaking his head. [I won’t forget this. If there’s anything I can do, you’ll have it.]

“It’s fine,” I said, not sure if I was making a terrible mistake or not, and drew my long-time friend into a warm hug. “Now I suppose I’d better collect my pay.”