Light swirled around us. My body dissolved into streams of particles, starting from my lower extremities. My vision broke into droplets of colors, like paint splatters—everywhere, everywhere.

It tickled somewhat.

For a moment, everything buzzed, then all the impossible feelings played out all over again, only in reverse. My head reformed first, giving me a clear view of my body as it spent the next five reassembling itself. Numbness vanished as feeling returned, first to my head, then my arms and my chest, then to my belly, and lastly to my legs, feet, and tail.

Geoffrey’s body was frozen in place until the moment it finished reconstituting, at which point all his momentum came roaring back with a vengeance, launching him across the ground.

But this time, I was in control. I didn’t even need to look around to see that we’d returned to the Forgotten Sands, back in Lantor proper.

We were on my turf, now.

Freeze, I thought.

And, instantly, Geoffrey did.

I actually spent a moment marveling at the form Geoffrey had chosen for his avatar. He looked like he’d just leapt out of a book cover. His feathers iridesced whenever I moved relative to him. There was a breeze in the air, but it didn’t ruffle Geoffrey in the least. Resolve sculpted his face, but his eyes burned with the kind of ferocity that could only come from deepest pain. I’d frozen him so totally, he wasn’t even thinking. He was stuck in a single moment of time.

Yuta sank to his knees, panting for breath. His kanakatana softly impacted on the sand.

We stood somewhere in the middle of Forgotten Sands. Far, far, behind us, past quivering mirages, the land turned corrugated and canyon-struck as it gave way to the rest of Lantor. Up ahead, nearly as far away, the Hoduul Mountains rose from the ground, piercing the sky. And though I could not see the fungal sky beyond it, that did not mean it wasn’t there. Thankfully, whatever was happening on the other side of the mountain range was staying on the other side of the mountain range, though I wondered how much longer it would stay that way.

The Incursion had spread even further across the desert. Otherworldly realities had leaked across the sands like so much spilt blood. Near the mountains, the sky fractured into at least half a dozen different realities. Blue skies. Orange skies. Swirls of fog-bound dark atwinkle with distant stars. Alien trees grew from forest floors right next to bottomless voids and floating isles. The desert’s sand filled the jagged gaps between the different world-bleeds, its waterless cataracts spilling into the voids.

Staring at it, I felt a presence tug at my thoughts, beckoning; beckoning. The Incursion was like a clawed hand spreading across the desert, reaching for me.

“Help me, Andalon,” I muttered. “Help me stop it, before it’s too late.”

I felt her stir. She came within an inch of appearing before me, but then darted away, cowering in terror.

I sighed.

“One step at a time,” I guess.

Speaking of which…

With a thought, I willed Geoffrey, Yuta, Brand, and myself back to our normal forms—though Geoffrey’s pose remained unchanged. I also wiped away our injuries and fatigue.

I breathed out softly.

Much better, I thought.

Yuta glanced at me. “Are you doing this, Dr. Howle?”

I nodded.

He slid his now-ordinary katana back into its scabbard.

The three of us gave Geoffrey a good look over.

“What are you going to do with him?” Yuta asked.

“Ideally, I want to calm him down, and not just because I don’t want any more trouble.” I glanced up at the sky. “As long as Brand and I remain physically interlinked, Andalon won’t be able to stop me from figuring out what needs to be figured out.”

“Physically interlinked?” Yuta asked, his brow furrowing.

I opened a window in the air, giving us the live feed coming in from my physical body’s eyes.

I didn’t blame Yuta for staring. He looked away as I dismissed the window.

I turned to Geoffrey, looking him over once more.

“Anyway,” I said, “as the first of the knights’ ghosts to manifest to me, I’m going to need to pick his brain over what he remembers of time traveling and the rift.” I looked back at Yuta. “I want to compare it to what you saw in your memories, and, hopefully, when I combine it with all of the secrets that Dr. Horosha will most definitely be sharing with me, maybe we’ll finally figure out what’s going on.”

“I very much doubt Geoffrey will be cooperative,” Yuta said.

Sighing, I willed a force field into being, surrounding Geoffrey with a lambent block of transparent, pale blue light. I pressed my fingers against the barrier, feeling its solidity, and then, satisfied, released Geoffrey from my freeze.

Free to surge, Geoffrey’s momentum sprung him forward, knocking him into the barrier several inches in front of him. From the look on his face, it was not the most pleasant experience.

I nodded in satisfaction.

He’d definitely deserved it.

Geoffrey spent the next fifteen seconds or so feeling out the barrier, testing it out with his hands, touching it here and there, like a mime.

“Geoffrey?” I said.

He glowered at me.

“He’s a zealot,” Yuta said. “For all their differences, Mu and Trenton both excel at training their soldiers to disregard reason.”

Geoffrey pulled out a shortsword from a pocket hidden in his armor and then slashed at the barrier. This accomplished nothing, and it took several more stabs and strikes—all accomplishing nothing—until he begrudgingly relented.

Yuta shook his head and sighed. “My point exactly.”

Geoffrey glowered at me. “What is this!?” He pounded his fist against the barrier.

I gestured at Brand. “My colleague, Dr. Nowston, transported us here. Unlike where we were before, here, I am in complete control. You’re inside my mind now, Geoffrey. I’d bid you welcome to the afterlife, but you don’t seem to be keen on pleasantries right now.”

Geoffrey hissed through his teeth. “Your colleague is one of those things, isn’t he? A Demon Norm.”

Stolen novel; please report.

I sighed. “We’re not Norms. We’re wyrms—with a Y. Wyrms and Norms are not the same.”

Yuta bore his palm. “I am not a wyrm.”

“Well, congratulations,” Geoffrey said, with unconcealed venom.

Sheathing his blade, Geoffrey turned around and began to pace inside the barrier’s confines like a caged panther.

“You say Wyrms and Norms are different, yet… they look the same to me,” he said. “Their tongues spout lies in much the same way.” He crossed his arms. “Tell me, Howle, do all wyrms claim to be the Angel’s chosen Blessèd? Or is it only you?”

I sighed. “I’m sorry about that. It was a dire situation. Lives were at stake. Afterlives, too. I didn’t have time to argue theology.”

“So you say.”

“Well, this is awkward,” Brand said.

“Tell me about it…” I muttered.

“What is DAISHU’s plan, then?” Geoffrey asked. “Do they mean to join the war in Paradise?”

Brand stared at Geoffrey, and then at me. “Why is he talking about DAISHU…?”

“He thinks they’ve made a pact with Hell and the forces of darkness.”

“You do not know the Mewnee like I do, Dr. Howle,” Geoffrey said. “They would stop at nothing to win.”

“The war is over, Geoffrey,” I said. “And, I’ll have you know, we won.”

“More lies,” Geoffrey said. He scowled at Yuta. “There can be no peace as long as these foreign devils continue to defile the Holy Land.”

I palmed my forehead.

“They’re all like this,” Yuta quipped. “And Mu’s magistrates are just as bad.”

I shook my head. “Geoffrey, let me remind you: you are dead. This world we’re in? I created it.”

Brand raised his hand. “And I helped.”

I glared at Dr. Nowston before continuing.

“This world exists within my mind, Geoffrey. As I said, this is your afterlife, and it’s my responsibility to oversee your afterlife, and make sure it is a pleasant one. Believe it or not, I want you to find peace, Geoffrey. I’d like to help you, if you’ll let me.”

“I don’t believe it,” he replied.

“Well… you should,” I said.

Count Athelmarch pursed his lips. “Why do you care?”

“Lots of reasons,” I said. “For one, it’s the right thing to do. For another, it’s in everyone’s interest that you find peace in the afterlife. If you don’t,” I pointed at the mountains, “the awful fungus things that were about to kill us back there will take control of you and turn you into a demon—a real demon—and that won’t be good for anyone, least of all you.”

There was silence.

Geoffrey pointed at Yuta. “I can have no peace as long as he lives.”

“I’m as dead as you are,” Yuta replied, sardonically.

Geoffrey stared in confusion.

“Both of you are ghosts,” I said. “As soon-to-be wyrms, Brand and I and all the others have to ensure that the souls uploaded into us make it to Paradise.”

Geoffrey pointed at Yuta. “If he is dead, and this is supposed to be Paradise, where’s the rest of his brood?”

Emotion roared within the samurai, even though Yuta gave no outward sign of it. His pain was a tempest. Longing screamed within him, desperate for the people he’d lost.

“They’re dead,” he said, “but they’re not here.”

“Oh?” Geoffrey asked, cruelly feigning interest, oozing malevolence.

“The Green Death killed my daughter and I,” Yuta said, “as well as my young ward. My wife and son were lost to Darkpox, not long after the rest of my household.” He lowered his gaze. “They never got a chance to learn of the wonders the future held.”

The pain was written deep in Yuta’s face.

Much to my surprise, for all Geoffrey’s hatred of Mu, Lord Uramaru’s grief struck a chord with him. Geoffrey’s reaction was as immediate as it was dramatic. Shooting Yuta an alarmed stare, Geoffrey stepped away from the edge of his prison. Geoffrey’s emotions suddenly went to war with one another. The anger in his face seemed to turn inward, crashing against a lurking sorrow. Geoffrey’s voice caught in his throat. He inhaled, his face paling.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Geoffrey scowled at me, and then smiled in disgusted, broken-hearted resignation. He glanced at Yuta. “Lord Uramaru, is it? You said you had no quarrel with me, did you not?”

“Correct,” Yuta replied, with a steely glare.

Geoffrey leaned forward and whispered, pressing his hands up against the barrier. “I would reconsider that,” he said. “After all, it was my idea to use Darkpox against our foes.”

The ground crunched under Yuta’s sandals as he stepped forward, shocked. “What?” he whispered.

“Oh fudge…” I muttered.

I had a bad feeling about this.

Geoffrey looked like was about to cry. “All those deaths,” he said, “all those children… they all lie on my shoulders. You see, I was the one to suggest it. Your people forced Trentons into servitude, but so great was your pride that you saw no risk in employing them as servants at your estates, to mock and belittle us. Your people’s pride was their undoing, Lord Uramaru. Patriots among the servants put rags from our Darkpox sickened children in all the nobles’ manses.”

“Y-You… you did what?” Yuta said. Metal keened as he unsheathed his sword. “You would damn us all with that plague?”

I called out Yuta’s name, trying to calm him, but he simply didn’t hear me. Every fiber of his being was focused on the knight in the cage.

“Five Mewnees died of the illness for every Trenton that succumbed,” Geoffrey said. “History remembers me for this.” He glanced at me. “I saw it written on your ‘Flying Cloud’, Dr. Howle. It said I played a ‘crucial role’ in turning the tide against the occupation.”

Yuta trembled with rage.

“Yuta,” I yelled, lunging forward, “stop!”

The samurai turned to face me.

“It won’t do any good,” I said. “You won’t be able to strike him as long as he’s in the barrier.”

“Then remove the barrier,” Yuta demanded.

“Not long ago, you were telling Geoffrey to let bygones be bygones,” I said, “what changed?”

“Dr. Howle,” Yuta said, trembling—desperate to remain calm, “if this man speaks the truth, and the Darkpox epidemic was an act of war—”

“—It’s the truth,” Brand said, solemnly. “It’s well-known that the Third Crusade owed its success to the Trenton rebels’ use of biological warfare.”

“Well,” Yuta said, “then Geoffrey must receive a just punishment. This is the afterlife, after all, where life’s injustices are set right.” Yuta stared me in the eyes. “Remove the barrier, Dr. Howle. Now.”

I crossed my arms. “No.”

Yuta glared at me. “Why not!?”

“It’s like you told me,” I said, “nothing good comes from senseless violence.”

Yuta’s face contorted with pain. He wept as he pointed his sword at Geoffrey. “How can you look into my eyes and tell me this man’s misery would be senseless? Hundreds of thousands of innocents died because of his actions. It’s his fault! He’s the reason I’m dead. He’s the reason Ichigo is dead, and Genta, and Sukuna! The earth screams with the blood he has shed! He must pay! And in here, Dr. Howle, you have the power to mete out justice. You can do what your god would not. You can set things right…”

Tears glinted in Geoffrey’s eyes. “And there it is.” He laughed bitterly. “There’s the wolf. You Mewnees believe yourselves the superior race. You think your justice is the only kind. All others are lesser. Even the one, true faith is a lowly thing in your eyes. You gaze down at us from your paper mansions as your soldiers pillage our lands and defile our people, and proclaim that it is good and just because it is the rule of the strong over the weak. But the truth is, you’re no different from us, just as I’m no different from you. All men fall short. We are sinners, all! ” He sneered. “My only regret is that I couldn’t kill you with my own two hands.”

Oh God.

Belting out a battle cry, Yuta charged at Geoffrey with his katana raised, poised to strike. But I willed a barrier into being right in Yuta’s path; he crashed into it face first, and then stumbled back.

His katana fell from his hands.

Geoffrey pointed and laughed, but there was no joy in his laughter. It was the broken-glass sound of a man drowned in regret.

Angel’s breath, I thought. At this rate, I was going to lose both of them to the darkness!

“You don’t know my pain!” Yuta screamed. “You don’t know my loss!”

“And you don’t know mine!” Geoffrey said, yelling back.

And that gave me an idea.

“Freeze,” I muttered—and both of them did.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I reached out with my thoughts and tapped into their minds. Was it invasive? Physically, no, but, ethically, yes. Was it a problematic violation of their privacy? Of course.

But I was done playing around, and with a war going on in Paradise, I truly had nothing left to lose.

Information poured into my awareness as I opened the two men’s memories. Sense, sight, sound, rapture, despair, love won and lost, connections broken and forged in lives beset by tragedy after tragedy. I had to open my eyes to keep myself from getting overwhelmed.

I started crying.

“Genneth?” Brand asked.

Turning to him, I sighed. “It’s so sad,” I said. “To think, in another life, they could have been friends.”

“What?”

I pointed at Yuta and Geoffrey, both frozen in stasis. “I have to stop this,” I said. “I need their help. Yuta’s mind held secrets about the fungus that not even he knew. Imagine what might be buried in Geoffrey’s head! I refuse to let the darkness take them!”

“Okay,” Brand said, “but how? It’s not like they’d agree to sit down for group therapy time.”

“I’m going to do what I did with Ileene and her parents, and with so many others,” I answered. “I’m going to get Yuta and Geoffrey to understand each other. I’ll get them to sympathize with one another, even if I have to drag them to revelation, kicking and screaming.”

“And this is feasible because…?”

“I just tapped into their minds, Brand. Having skimmed their life-stories, I can tell you that both of them are ultimately reasonable. They’re not psychopaths. They can feel remorse.”

“Geoffrey doesn’t seem very remorseful to me,” Brand quipped.

“He’s just broken,” I said, “as is Yuta. In their own way, everyone is broken. What matters is what can be done to repair them.”

With but a thought, I summoned a portal into the world of memories. An entryway opened in the air, streaming out light.

I gestured at the portal with a polite bow. “After you.”