2 : 261 : 17 : 42 : 13

The ruined town behind us, we cross the strip of desert in between to the barren foothills and up the mountainside. A narrow, zig-zagging trail of stairs has been sculpted into the tricky rise, kept clean of sand by the island’s dutiful watchers. This is the one part where they actually cared, in their own childish way.

We climb up to the shelf of rock, on which stands Heaven’s Pillar number four. Only here up close does it strike you how damn ginormous the thing is, even as only a broken stump. It’s hard to see it as artificial, too far outside the scope of anyone's hands. With only its ageless presence, it commands silent respect. Neither of us is very religious, but it feels inexplicably wrong to goof off in the shadow of that godly production. Like you’re one bad quip off from damnation. It takes the words from you. This is where the world ends, at this tower. Here's where it's wrapped up and here's where it starts anew. From cycle to cycle. As long as the Covenant stands.

As we approach, the familiar buzzing fills my head. The rattle and hum, speaking of the mind-boggling powers slumbering under the outwards plain frame of the pillar. It tells me to turn around and go away, but that's the one thing we can't do.

The foundations of the megalith have been planted directly into the mountainside, leaving a clear, flat circle in which it poses. From the edge begins a long stairway up to the tall, vaulted entrance in the tower’s face. The view makes me wish I could fly.

Oh well, gotta work those glutes.

The grand door’s been left ajar. We’re not the first visitors tonight. I’d hoped some devilish trap left by the gods would’ve done in the baddie off-screen, but guess there’s no such luck.

We enter a tall, straightforward hallway that ends in a cylindrical chamber. Someone has kindly left ghost lights to burn along the aisle, to show the way. The layout brings to mind the sultan’s treasury in Nikéa. Here, without the mountains of flashy trinkets to hog your attention, you can better grasp the airy scale of the place, and secretly mourn all the nice things which were lost that day. None of that here. Guess the local variety of dragons aren’t into hoarding sparkly stuff, or else they have another place for their stash.

Passing through the empty hall, we come to the no-less familiar, round opening in the floor and the mysterious puzzle ladder leading down to the basement level. The gold stick has unlocked the path for us.

This is the point of no return.

“You still sure you want to do this?” I check with Lieselot as we stare down into the ghastly manhole illuminated by the evil sorcerer’s candles. “It’s not too late. You can still go home. You can still see your dad.”

Lieselot looks back at me like I’m the daft one.

“And what? Tell him I ran away, because it was too much? He’d beat the crap out of me—and for a damn good reason.”

I sigh. “Why am I always surrounded by the honorable types? It makes me feel like such a chicken.”

Lieselot slaps my shoulder. “Come on. We’ve got work to do.”

That we do.

Let's play this smart. I surround us with an optical veil. In my pocket, I have Thirteen's Data Blocker talisman. With a bit of tinkering, I can extend the effect to the veil. We should be harder to detect both physically and magically. Gives us a solid shot to get a drop on the bad guy. Maybe.

I climb down after Lieselot into the artificial cavern, quietly.

This view is the same as in Nikéa too. Slanted walls formed of hexagonal sticks, that leave a bottomless gap in the middle, where the floor should be, and a long, narrow bridge across the void to the matching platform on the far side.

Last time I’d wondered why they’d put such a pit here, but now I think I know. It's not just to spook you. The Pillar doesn’t draw in prana exclusively from the upper atmosphere but also from the planet’s mantle. That’s why it can work even without the antenna part. But it’s hard to build a tower upside down underground, a lot easier to dig a hole and let the prana pool into it on its own. Very fascinating from a magitech engineer’s point of view, but not really important right now.

On the opposite side, in front of the vault door, stands the sorcerer decked out in gold. Even in the darkness of the cavern, his figure looks brightly lit and clear. Not because of any special magic, it’s just how emiri are. He doesn't bother trying to hide, brazenly welcoming all challengers.

Left from him by the door is a tall block of rock, on which hangs the bloodied figure of Zandolph, wrapped in thick chains, and crucified with heavily cursed nails. A bit meaner—and far unhealthier—version of the restraints they use in Egregor. But she's still alive, and conscious, even. Tough chick.

But damn, it's going to be hard to carry her out like that. I'll need to convince the wizard to dispel the bindings.

How am I going to do that? Without the core, I'll have no bargaining power.

“Remember the plan?” I whisper to Lieselot. “You hide yourself and wait for an opening. Until I give the signal, don’t…”

I interrupt myself when I realize no one’s standing next to me anymore.

My friend is already running. Not towards the exit, or to find a safe hiding spot, unfortunately.

When my eyes find Lieselot, she's dashing along the almost vertical cavern wall, high near the ceiling, drawing a faint orange trail after her as she goes. Her limbs are charged to the bursting point with mana. Runes augment her mortal strength. She’s not even trying to hide and sit this out. She’s unquestionably geared up for a direct attack.

My jaw drops.

I have to say, I’ve never really given my friend her due credit.

Lieselot is pretty amazing, really. How many girls do you know who can run along walls and punch grown men off their feet? She was blessed with vast talent at birth, and she's made the most of it. With that mana capacity, she could’ve turned into a great witch too, if people didn’t convince her that the power that makes your limbs sparkle is just a sign of good guts.

No, she never had the brain for theory. Not the type that does well in a classroom.

It's precisely because she was given such a simpleminded, one-track education that she could shine.

It's a case of specialization taken to the extreme.

As a melee combatant, Lieselot is beyond exceptional. If she ever had a bout with Sephram, she’d absolutely hand his ass to him. Hate to admit it, but purely at hand-to-hand, I’d bite the dust too. No lie.

But—having no real competition tends to distort a person's grasp of what's possible.

You start to think you're almighty.

Our girl seems to be under the illusion that she can catch him by surprise if she stays out of his view.

In a matter of seconds, she’s crossed over the lengthy cavern to the other side, and kicks off the wall. The humanoid potato is launched like a railgun sludge and comes at Yaoldabath from above, her heavy gauntlet ready to meet his brow.

“—I’ll never forgive what you’ve done to Zero!” she shouts and swings her fist down.

The wizard's not looking at her.

He stares off in the exit’s general direction, wearing a dull face, like he’s half-asleep, thinking about what to have for breakfast, or maybe about that day he asked Stacy to prom. And she gets close. Surprisingly close. If I squint and try very hard, I can almost believe she got to touch him, maybe a hair.

Of course, that’s not the case.

Lieselot’s fist stops a generous arm’s length away. In a blink, her figure has frozen clean in mid-air, turned to peach-streaked marble throughout, her face locked in a determined scowl, teeth clenched. She never knew what hit her. She’s got the magic resistance of a vegetable, after all. Then the 1:1 scale figurine levitates to the right side of the doorway and is left standing. Now there are symmetrical decorations.

“One more friend to rescue,” Yaoldabath says. “Do you think you can save them both?”

Haha, eat shit.

So much for the plan. No point left in hiding either.

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Quietly lamenting human stupidity, I dispel the veil and cross the bridge to the other side.

“I didn’t call her, by the way,” I point out. “It was a random encounter. A forced event. Out of my hands.”

“Forty-eight minutes till sunrise,” he tells me, not interested. “I suggest you get to it.”

He steps out of the way, clearing the road to the tall, vaulted slate barring the way deeper in.

“I'm still on the clock?” I ask him. “What's the rush? Don’t you evil maniacs love your long-winded speeches? How about one more? You still haven't told us what trivial childhood regret made you want to ruin the world.”

The wizard stares hard at me.

“However many hundreds of you mortals show up, it doesn’t matter. But when the sun rises, the wyrms take to wings. And if another dragon stumbles here at any point…I will have to destroy this island. And you. And her.”

“Yeah, okay. The core.”

I approach the doorway.

How did I do it last time again? I put my hand on it and it opened. Why make such a big deal out of it, anyway? Why the games? If the dragons make him that nervous, why didn’t he just grab the ball and get out of here when he could? Why risk so much just to mess with a nobody like me?

Is it really only a game?

What else could it be?

What did he say again? He wanted to spare himself the effort? What part about this takes any effort, anyway? I thought he was joshing. You open the door, go in, pick up the ball, and come back out. Even Vysania could do it. Why not the Sorcerer Supreme?

What am I not seeing here?

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. I think back to the talk with Vys.

At the time, I was too distracted by the other stuff to pay attention, but what she said then still bothers me.

—Anyone with the necessary knowledge, and the ability to manipulate mana, is given a fair chance to pass.

—It's not a seal, it's a puzzle.

—It took a night to crack the equations, but I was able to produce the correct answer in the end and unlocked the core chamber.

My hand stops.

“—It’s a test.”

I look back at the wizard.

“The gods left something nasty, after all. What’s on the other side this door is different for everyone who goes in. Isn’t that right? And the difficulty level scales with the guest. For a four-year-old, simply walking across a room and opening the door is challenge enough. A math nerd gets a math quiz. So a master of magic would then get a master-level problem.”

Just the kind of twisted shit you’d expect from the gods.

Yaoldabath had to crack the trial in Ukulu on his own and whatever he faced there left him very unwilling to go at it again. He’s not toying with us only to kill time, after all. Using me actually is his fastest way to get the ball without being found out.

The wizard narrows his eyes at me.

“The more time passes,” he quietly pronounces, “the harder it becomes to reverse petrification. If you take too long, it might be that your friend can no longer be returned…exactly as she was.”

Asshole.

I thought I was getting somewhere here, but in the end, there's only one choice.

I step up to the wall and lay my palm on it. Don’t ask me how it happens, it just does. Like before, the invisible machinery jolts to life at once. The heavy metal slates pull out of the way, opening a gap into the second hall. I glance one more time at the pompously dressed wizard, silently telling him with my gaze that he’d better keep his word, or else…or else I’ll feel really awful about it, for a long time.

Then I go in.

The door closes soon behind me.

Without any light sources, it should be completely dark, but I can see just fine around me. The walls are partly transparent, like crystal, and through them I see swirling clouds of golden light spontaneously light up and fade like living things. The light shapes float slowly around the room like whales encased in stone, as if they’re following me, watching my every move with great care. I try not to worry about them and head on across the smooth, glossy floor.

What kind of sick shit did the heavens prepare for me?

I’m not the same girl I was in Nikéa. It's been five very eventful years. My bust may not have grown as much as I hoped, but I've done a lot of growing as a person. I’ve gotten stronger, smarter. My knowledge of magic has increased exponentially. Our story has gained more followers too. I'm twice as popular as I was then. Big enough to get 0.5-star ratings. It’d be stupid to expect the test to remain baby-tier too.

Whatever you've got for me, bring it on.

I can handle internet comments, I can handle anything.

They speak to me again, the voices, the whispers. Like in Nikéa, they pass in and out of my mind without restraint, like we’re having psychic open doors. I can’t hear what they say, the words are too distant and muffled, but I can faintly feel the intent.

You shouldn’t be here. You don’t belong here. Your kind has no business here. There will be consequences. Dire consequences. Are you sure you can bear the responsibility? Are you prepared for what’s coming? Do you want to see the world fall because of you? Can you stand seeing everything you love turned to ash—and for what? For vanity? For feeling?

I wish I could cover my ears.

Aah, shut up. I'm not here to ruin anything, I'm here to save lives! It's not over yet. We still have one core at home, and there’ll still be the tower of Leng too. It will be fine. The world will be fine, if only we take care of the two that remain. I won't give up on the people I care about just to hitch up the odds a bit. Don't ask me to do that. What the fuck else could I do? He’s going to get it, anyway, even if I don't do this! Don’t make me sell my friends for the world!

I push myself to walk on.

Then I see a strange shape walk next to me.

A faint figure of a person, a girl child. An undetailed silhouette drawn in faintly glowing light.

Oh no, not little girl ghosts! I hate those.

“—Why was I born?” a child’s voice asks, ringing clear along the walls.

I stop, having trouble breathing, unable to tear my eyes off the apparition.

Are you shitting me? Is that thing supposed to be me? What kind of fucking mind game is this now?

“—Why did they make me, if they don’t want me?”

Shut up.

I don’t know.

I don’t give a fuck. It doesn’t matter.

Does anyone have a real, higher reason to be alive? No, they don't. Don’t depend on your parents for answers. What kind of idiot lets other people, or gods, or video games, or social conventions, or whatever, define why you live? You should be the only one who decides that. It’s your life, for god's sake!

I walk on. The ghost of a child walks next to me.

“I never asked to be born. I’m given a life I didn’t want, and then have to take responsibility for it—It's too unfair.”

Shut up. Either way, you have a life. What are you going to do about it, cry? Kill yourself? As if that ever solved anything! Shit’s not fair. So what? You just have to make do with what you've got! Unless you play the game all the way to the bitter end, you'll never see a real change!

The small hand touches my own.

“It would be easier if I had love.”

My feet stop.

“Yeah,” I say, gently squeezing the child’s hand. “‘I’m doing it for love’—Would be so damn easy if I could say that.”

There wouldn’t even be a story then. No problem whatsoever.

A clear, straight road from the prologue to finale.

I could simply push all responsibility to my lover. Her wish is my wish, the end.

“But what really is love?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes. They say you won't know real love unless the person you love loves you back. Until the two halves are made whole.”

“In the end, I'm just half a person!”

“A pity. I’ve heard it feels wonderful. I wouldn’t be so empty anymore, if I had found true love even once.”

“Maybe love’s not for everyone.”

The child of light pulls closer and wraps her thin arms around me.

“Don’t be sad. I will always love you, Zero. After all—I am you.”

There I’m broken.

Tears pour out of my eyes without stopping.

I sink down to my knees and cry and scream.

After letting it all out, the tears run dry. I sit on the floor, dazed, and steady my breathing for a minute. The child of light is gone. I sit alone. In front of me, the core chamber’s door opens with a quiet grating sound, and the reactor orb rises to hove above its shiny pedestal.

I stare at the thing in disbelief.

“You’d just give it to me? You’d hand it to somebody like me, knowing what’s at stake?”

The walls have gone silent.

The gods have no answers for me.

No, I think I have mine now.