Another week passed, and the hound extermination crew gathered in a well-lit room resembling a hospital ward. Apart from Scott and Orion’s main body, the rest of the group lay on beds, their bodies wrapped in various degrees of bandages as their wounds slowly healed.

Several wutas moved among the champions, some holding what appeared to be medical charts, while others diligently monitored strange, highly sophisticated equipment. A few lingered by the side, conversing carefully among themselves in low voices that wouldn’t distract the non-android contingent.

“So, how are you guys feeling?” Scott asked mentally, his gaze shifting between his companions.

“Like crap, but we’re alive,” Zara responded with a playful smile. Despite the bandages swathed around her body, the feline sat upright, propped against her bed, absently playing with what looked like a ball of yarn.

“Buddy, these guys keep staring at me,” Slim suddenly said, nodding subtly toward the wutas, who observed the skeleton with thinly veiled curiosity. The others followed his gaze, watching as the androids openly studied him, taking notes and even snapping what seemed to be pictures of the undead.

Both of Orion’s bodies chuckled simultaneously. “I get it. Biologically speaking, you shouldn’t even exist,” the clone said, his condition much improved compared to a few weeks ago.

“They’re probably wondering how and why you’re still moving, and if they can replicate it,” the original Orion elaborated. “Which, honestly, is exactly what we’d do,” they both added in unison, laughing.

“No matter how much time passes, I can’t get used to this,” Zara cut in, her eyes darting between the two Orions. “This is weird, right? It’s not just me?”

Both Orions chuckled again, their eerily identical smiles widening. Scott, however, shifted his attention to Ember. “How’s the new arm?” he asked her on a private channel.

Ember glanced up, meeting his gaze. “Their technology is… unlike anything I’ve seen. It’s not inferior to any recovery spell, and it doesn’t even feel like I lost my arm,” she admitted, awe mingling with unease in her voice. She flexed her new arm, marveling at its smooth, natural movement. It looked and felt just like the original, and that realization both stunned and unsettled her. She couldn’t begin to imagine what else the wutas—or whatever other entities lurked in this facility—were capable of.

“Let me know if anything feels off, okay?” Scott said, gently tapping the dragonkin’s foot in reassurance.

As he shifted focus back to the rest of the group, a small smile crept across his face. Zara had apparently decided to challenge Slim to a fight—rather a beating, despite her injuries, and was attempting to stand up from her bed. Several wutas hurriedly restrained her, while Slim and both Orions laughed with wild abandon. Scott’s eyes then landed on Plume, the trisos, who hadn’t spoken a word since their arrival.

“Thank you for your help,” Scott said through a private channel. “I know it might seem like we’ve been cold towards you, but as you’ve probably noticed, most people are out to get us. It’s unfair, but... if you don’t want to stay, you’re free to leave—"

“Are you kidding me right now?” Plume interrupted; her voice sharp. “Where exactly am I supposed to go that’s even remotely safe in this tower?”

“I was going to suggest you stay here,” Scott replied with a sheepish smile. He knew that none of them would enjoy anything resembling freedom the moment they left Carcosa. They’d be on the run constantly, fighting just to survive.

“That’s worse than leaving,” Plume shot back, a mix of frustration and resignation in her voice. “I knew you people were trouble.” She sighed heavily; evidently regretful. “I should have just stayed in Infernia… but I was too much of a coward.”

Scott chuckled softly, both amused and a little sorry for the trisos. “Whatever you decide, just let me know. But… thanks,” he added.

He turned his gaze away from Plume, who was now glaring at him with the same intensity Zara had aimed at Slim earlier. His voice echoed through the party channel, drawing everyone’s attention. “So… what do you guys think about what we talked about?”

A heavy silence filled the room, every pair of eyes now focused on Scott. He had given them all the details—his plans, the reality they’d face once they left Carcosa. There was no sugarcoating it; life would only get worse from here. Scott already knew Orion’s stance, but the rest of the group’s thoughts were still up in the air.

Slim let out a long sigh, shifting in his bed. “Honestly, any sane person wouldn’t want to be anywhere near this mess. It’s all just… screwed up.”

“The other champions, we could probably deal with,” Zara added, “but gods? Deities from beyond reality? The more I think about it, the crazier it sounds.”

“And let’s not forget the stalker incarnation,” Slim chimed in. “No telling when she’ll pop up again.”

Both Slim and Zara sighed in unison, their shoulders slumping as they sank deeper into their beds. Scott stayed silent, knowing he didn’t have the right to dictate how they should feel or what they should decide. Not after everything they’d been through together.

His gaze shifted to Ember, who remained deep in thought. She rarely spoke about her past, but Scott knew about her connection to the Dragon King—and by extension, the council. Staying with them would mean defying her kin. It wasn’t a decision to take lightly.

Suddenly, Zara broke the silence. “You know what? Screw it. I’ve never been the smartest, and I’m probably making a decision I’ll regret, but I don’t care.” Her eyes narrowed with determination. "You all are everything I have left in this cursed tower, and I'll be damned if I let anyone take that away from me—never again. So yeah, I’m in. Gods, champions, foreign deities, whoever it is—we'll take them all down."

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Orion’s grin widened; his approval clear as he nodded at the feline.

“My fearless leader, I had no idea you were so good with words,” Slim teased, giving Zara a mock salute. She shot him a deadly glare, but Slim just laughed, turning his attention to Scott. “Buddy, we’ve been through way too much to call it quits now. Even if we wanted to, what could we even do? It’s not like we could go back to normal lives.”

He chuckled, his tone light despite the gravity of the situation. “We vowed to become legends, didn’t we? Well, this is probably the start of that tale. I’m dying to see how it all ends.”

“You all are lunatics. Truly.” Plume’s voice echoed, strained with exasperation. She paused as if unsure how to continue. She had long since lost touch with her prime, but even the fragmented memories she retained couldn’t think of any group that embodied chaos as the hound extermination crew. Trouble didn’t just find them—they invited it. No, they created it.

“If I had known that staying alive would be this hard, I’d have chosen to be a pretty flower in someone’s garden,” Plume groaned, her words dripping with frustration.

Everyone in the room—except the wutas—struggled to contain their rising laughter. Even if they didn’t voice it, they all understood the trisos' sentiments perfectly.

“At this point,” Plume sighed deeply, “it doesn’t really matter anymore. No matter what I choose, I’ll suffer anyway.” Her form slumped in defeat. “I might as well stick around, since I’m already here,” she muttered, clearly displeased with her own decision.

An awkward silence settled over the room, with all eyes slowly turning to Ember. The dragonkin’s gaze was fixed on the glossy, sterile ceiling, her expression distant. No one spoke; they knew she was grappling with a weighty decision.

After a long moment, Ember sighed, her voice carrying a note of resignation. “My father,” she began, her tone steady yet somber, “Darit, the undefeated king… is the Dragon King.” She glanced at her companions. Apart from Scott, they all looked stunned, jaws slightly agape—Orion and Slim’s mouths hanging open in disbelief.

Ember’s eyes found Scott’s, and a wry smile tugged at her lips. “I take it you already knew?”

Scott gave a small nod.

“Then you must also know about my brothers,” she continued, her eyes narrowing slightly in challenge.

Another nod from Scott, and Ember shook her head, her gaze returning to the ceiling as if it held the answers she sought. “I don’t know if I should be surprised or impressed,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Then, louder, “Well, my father—the Dragon King—is a member of the council.”

The air in the room shifted instantly. “Wait, hold on,” Slim blurted out. “Forget the fact that you’re royalty—are you telling me your dad is one of the people trying to kill us?”

Ember turned toward the skeleton, her expression soft, a faint smile on her lips. “He’s never really been a father to me. I’ve never met him, nor my brothers, but their influence has shaped every fiber of my being,” she explained quietly.

Zara’s brow furrowed. “If your father’s a god, doesn’t that make you… a deity, or something?” Her voice carried both confusion and curiosity as she struggled to piece it together.

“Normally, yes,” Ember replied, her voice calm but laden with complexity. “But I wasn’t born through… conventional means. My very existence is shrouded in mystery. From the moment I opened my eyes, I’ve felt the presence of my father and brothers. And their voices…” She paused, her gaze hardening. “They’ve haunted me, driven me to the brink of madness more times than I care to count.”

Her words hung in the air, leaving a heavy silence in their wake as the crew processed the depth of what she had revealed.

So, that’s the reason my chaos title called out to her, Scott thought to himself. He had always wondered how and why the dragonkin was considered among those consumed by madness, now he understood why.

“I was considered an abomination—a defect, if you will,” Ember began, her voice low, yet carrying the weight of years of rejection. “The blood of an almighty being flows through me, yet I lack the authority or divinity to be regarded as one of them.” She paused, her gaze sweeping across her companions, who remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

“I was banished. Forced to prove myself worthy of my own heritage.” Her voice faltered briefly, her hands gripping the bedsheets. “They abandoned me. In their eyes, I’m unworthy.”

Zara, who had been quietly listening, stepped off her bed and moved closer to the dragonkin. “I’m not going to pretend I understand everything about your family but listen to me—you’re not less than any of them. So what if you’re different? Like bonehead said, this is our chance to write our own legend.” She wrapped her arms around Ember. “They’ll have no choice but to acknowledge you soon enough.”

Scott, watching the exchange, spoke up, his voice calm and unwavering. “What will you do?”

Zara shot him a sharp glare. “Why push her right now? She doesn’t need to—"

Zara stopped as Ember’s hand gently rested on her shoulder. “This isn’t something we can delay,” she said softly, turning toward Scott with resolve. “It saddens me that my father and brothers may never deem me worthy, but I won’t remain stagnant. My fate is already set, and I’ll see it through, no matter what. I have no intention of backing down.”

“Thank you—all of you,” Scott’s voice filled the room, carrying both gratitude and a deep sense of duty. “I swear on everything I hold dear: I will make sure you never regret this decision.”

The room fell silent as the champions, including the wutas, focused on Scott. There was something in his voice— an undeniable authority, a conviction so strong it rippled through the group.

Suddenly, a chilling system notification pierced the silence.

The Bridge Between Timelines is emerging!

A tremor shook the room violently, but it passed just as quickly as it began. The notification lingered in the air, ominous, and more appeared in quickly.

Champions will be able to cross timelines seamlessly once the bridge is connected! Warning! Champions currently undergoing trials are barred from crossing timelines! Champions will be unable to choose the exact location or the specific time of their arrival across timelines! Champions are free to and encouraged to embark on trials across different timelines! Warning! Beings who have crossed the Point of No Return are barred from descending to the lower floors across the timelines! Warning! All incarcerated champions are barred from crossing timelines unless permitted by examiners or wardens in charge of their missions! Good luck!

Golden insignias resembling bridges appeared on the bodies of all the champions present, melding into their skin before disappearing entirely.

Estimated time until the bridge emerges: 5 days!