Several people lean back at Johnny's phrasing of the question. "Who wants to go meet Death" is incredibly ominous, but it appears that was Johnny's intention as he continues just a moment afterward.

"I'm just kidding. That wasn't a threat at all, but we do have some choices before us."

The Gunfighter lifts a lantern with six open slits emitting blue light.

"Now that we have Death's Lantern, we can go to the Underworld. And in this journey, not only would we be the first in… I think…ever to see what's below, but opportunities await us. The Bloodhound, Wyatt's teacher, possesses the location of a key to a Vault. He is dead now, but in this journey, we can gain access to the Vault of Hunters."

Primrose speaks up as she finally seems to be feeling good enough to be loud.

"And what will that actually do for us? The Vault was abandoned, no?"

Johnny nods and points at her.

"Yes. It was abandoned because they are near impossible to break into. All Vaults were made by a previous Prime, so there will never be any more. And of the hundred made, I think about sixty or so remain or at least are openable. The guardians of the Vaults are commonly meant to die with them or escape with the key to return later. We are in a unique situation, however. With this lantern, we can learn where the key was left and open a Vault that would otherwise be lost to the sands of time."

Primrose yawns at Johnny.

"Ah… And?"

Johnny shakes his head.

"So impatient. Inside the Vault are enough Colts, Claymores, ammunition, and resources to field an army. Every Vault has one 6th Mark or Flamme, which is what names the Vault in particular, alongside a variety of other types of weapons. Now, most of the weapons are a bit older as only the first ten Vaults have 7th Mark weapons or above, which are the prototypes made by the Prime of that time."

Primrose finally stops disrupting Johnny as he finally reaches his point. The Vault will have mighty weapons inside of it. Stuff that we all could use. That's enough of a reason for me to go. But how many of us can go? Is there a limit to how many Death's Lantern can guard? I ask Johnny before he moves on to any other topic.

"How many can go, though?"

Johnny looks at the lantern and holds it all up.

"After investigating it a bit with Blake, our resident expert in death, we've concluded six can go at max. Each heart placed into the lantern closes a side of it. Six sides in all."

Whispers start to come from the side as Johnny pauses in his speech. Then, he raises the lantern and points it at each person in a row, silencing the murmurs.

"Who would like to go with me?"

I immediately raise my hand, with no hesitation or thought needed. I'm not only required for this to find Edmund, which we have no clue how to do, but I also want to go. I want to see Ma. At least one more time.

I look around to see if anyone else raised their hands, and what awaits me is surprising. I half expected Virgil to raise his hand so he could see Vernon, but he didn't. Instead, the only two who raise their hands are Otto, with a face of grim determination, and Blake, who still has her head down.

Turning to look at Virgil, I ask him. As I do, though, I notice just how detached he appears.

"Hey, Virgil? Why don't you want to go?"

His eyes slowly drift over to me from the sand he was watching.

"Vernon will not be there."

"Huh?"

I don't understand what he means and try to get clarification.

"Two-Faces devour the soul. There is nothing left of Vernon. Nothing."

"Oh…....... I'm… I'm sorry, man."

I can do nothing for him but be sorry. There is nothing else possible for me to do or anyone. Once a soul departs the body, that is the end, let alone when it is devoured. My situation is a bit special, but even my soul was never destroyed, only held onto momentarily. Virgil just nods. I turn my attention back to Johnny as he starts speaking again. The man waited a few moments to see if anyone else wanted to come, but no one else does. Not even the bold Primrose.

"That's alright if it's only us four. Otto, Blake, and Wyatt. We'll be taking a carriage and heading to a nearby town. Highstone has a 6th Sigil Sexton who lives in it. We will be finding him and asking for where the nearest Crossroads is. Through them, whether by force or fortune, we can head down to a Gate Of Death."

Johnny then drops that topic as it is finished and looks to everyone else.

"Now, everyone else needs to get moving. We have plenty of carriages and wagons that are not destroyed. Anyone who is not going to the Underworld should head north and get out of the Bonedunes. Starkbluffs is north of here and is likely the best place for you all to rest, recover, and wait for our return. When we do, we will all go for the Vault together."

Nods go around, everyone agreeing. Johnny then goes to end the meeting, but before he can, Earl speaks up.

"Johnny, you said we have no Craftsmen, right?"

Johnny nods and elaborates.

"Yes. We have only a few first or second Sigils who can repair our broken wagons and whatnot."

Earl puts a finger on his chin as he scratches it.

"What about that Colt Primrose got? Do you know who made it?"

Johnny starts to shake his head as if he doesn't know but stops himself partway through.

"No… Wait… Maybe. The merchant at the black market said it was made by a genius crafter out east. There are only a few of those around. I can only think of three, Payton Hess, the Automaton, Kenneth Frye, the Sleek, and Morgan Weiss, the Icarus. Primrose, can you check your Colt? See if there are initials put in anywhere? Most Coltsmiths like to do that."

Primrose huffs as she turns the gun over and checks it all over. After a few seconds of searching, she finds something and lets us know.

“I see a MW. Morgan Weiss?”

Johnny gives her a thumbs up.

"Yeah, that makes sense. Icarus is known for their handguns. Why Earl?"

Earl kind of bites his cheek as he puts out a wild question.

"Do you think we can find and recruit them? The Colt they made that Primrose has is incredible. You know it allows her to teleport, right? What else could they do?"

Johnny nods, but he swings an unintended blow at Earl's argument.

"It's true that it's impressive, but it's also a failure. The Colt only lets Primrose teleport with it. Any other 5th Sigil should have at least three or four traits. Her's has one. Abraham, could you stay after? I got something I need to ask you."

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Earl's face goes down as his face twists in thought. A few people start to get up and leave while he does so, but I stay with him. Virgil walks away with a wave at me.

"I'm leaving for a bit, Wyatt. I should be back before you return from the Underworld, though."

I get confused and hurt at him saying he's leaving. Why? Why would he leave? Did Vernon's death change his mind about staying?

"Why are you leaving? Are we not a team?"

The Darkstalker shakes his head depressingly.

"That's not it. I need to go check on my family. And let them know Vernon's dead. I'll probably even bring them back with me. It's risky to leave 'em alone. Darkstep isn't against killing families. Neither are some of the kill squads."

I understand his reasoning. He's already lost a brother. He doesn't need to lose anymore. I flow some Ether into my legs with a grunt and a flashfire of pain as I stand to embrace him. I wrap my arms around the man waving at me to not move and instead to rest.

"I'm fine. You will be too, Virgil. Remember what you told me? Enjoy life. Don't let one setback take you down."

I separate from Virgil, and the man gives me a small smile. A barely noticeable one. But still a smile.

"I will. See you soon, buddy."

We share a quick handshake where he slides the Ghosteye into my hand before the man walks away. Leaving only a few remaining at this meeting. And just as I prepare to leave, Earl comes up with an idea.

"Johnny?"

"Yeah?"

"When did you first hear of this, Icarus?"

"Hmm... Not that long ago. A month or so at most? I've heard people say they are just as good as the other two, though, so I added them."

"Never before, then?"

"No, why?"

"How long does it take for weapons from the east to reach the frontier?"

"About a year or so? Where are you going with this?"

I look at Earl quizzically as Johnny does the same. Even Elizabeth turns to the man.

"Do you think that could have been an early work? Like a first prototype or something?"

Earl completely loses me as he says this. Why would he even think that? He loses Johnny as well as the man scoffs, but Earl tries to recover it.

"No, I'm serious. Look at the gun! It's got imperfections in it. The design is ingenious, but it's clearly not done yet. I remember seeing Primrose try and reload it. The gun was hard to take the magazine out of. It was also prone to jamming, right, Primrose?"

The lady who finally got her pink scarf back nods suspiciously.

"How did you know that?"

Earl points at her gun.

"While we are fighting in the streets, I saw through my scope your Colt jam. It felt odd at the moment, but it makes sense now. The Colt doesn't look old at all! Its design must just not be finished!"

Johnny still appears unconvinced, and this time it is Primrose that questions Earl.

"So, bighead? What does any of that have to actually do with us?"

Earl grows a bit frustrated as he waves his hands, annoyed, trying to explain himself.

"It means that the Coltsmith is new. Very new. At most, a year in the industry and with mountains of potential. We might be able to recruit them if we can find them."

Earl turns and looks at Johnny with excitement and hope.

"I would like to try and find them, Johnny."

Johnny tilts his head as he thinks for a moment. He then glances at Elizabeth and Primrose in quick succession.

"I see what you mean now, Earl. And I like it. But you can't go alone. Elizabeth could help you convince Icarus, while Primrose could protect you two."

Elizabeth agrees with a nod as Johnny asks her indirectly if she will go, but Primrose immediately grows frustrated.

"Do I have to go with them, Johnny? I could really use a week or a month of relaxation."

Johnny gives her a glare.

"If you wish. But did you really learn nothing from Levi? Work hard, Primrose. Don't just laze about."

Primrose sighs as she changes her mind at Johnny's willingness to let her do what she wants.

"Fine. But I better get a vacation when I come back."

"You can take one whenever you want."

"That's not true."

"It is."

"No, it's not!"

"Hmm."

"What do you mean 'Hmm'?!"

I bust out laughing at the one-sided argument, and Primrose gives me a death glare in retaliation. Instantly my laugh disappears as she points her Mars at my chest. I've already been paralyzed by her Ether before. I'm plenty good in this case with a gun to me.

She harrumphs and stomps away with a pronounced limp. Even her frustration can't hide her injury. As she leaves, though, she tells Earl and Elizabeth something.

"Come find me at my wagon. We can leave in the morning."

This search for a Coltsmith seems to have lit a blaze in Earl's heart. He moves with a pep in his step as he stands and pulls Elizabeth up with him.

"Come on! Let's go get ready! I need to make some stuff for the road."

Elizabeth just rolls her eyes and whispers to me as she leaves.

"I guess we're gonna go find him a girlfriend. What else could get him so excited?"

I laugh at her remark about what they're going to go do, but as Earl drags her away, I yell out.

"What about Esther?'

"Oh, Sacate will watch her. The man is great with kids."

Okay… I guess that's fine. Only I worry that somehow we will return and that Esther will have a Sigil like what happened to Elizabeth. Surely not, right? Right? I don't want to leave the little girl, but we have things we need to do. I'm sure she'll understand, at least when she gets older.

The two then rapidly leave as Earl goes to do whatever the hell random bullshit he's gonna make. Either bombs or fire. One of the two, for sure.

By the time they leave, it's now just Abraham, Johnny, and me. Johnny seems to be whispering into Abraham's ear, and curious to see what they're talking about, I flow Ether into my ears for Listen.

"You need to follow him. I trust the man, but I worry for him. She does not treat her Damned lightly. Only you can do this as you sleep just as little as him, even if yours is to your detriment."

I see Abraham nod as I walk closer to intrude on their conversation and learn what they're discussing.

"Who are you following?"

Abraham turns and snaps his fingers at me, but nothing seems to happen. But after a moment of me looking around, he speaks.

"You're good; I just ensured no one was nearby. Johnny, you want to tell 'em."

Johnny turns to me with a nod.

"Abraham is going to go and follow Virgil. I'm worried he might get attacked or ambushed on his way back. Abraham is just as good, if not better, at staying unseen than Virgil."

Abraham puffs up at this chance to boast, not letting it pass him by. He seems to be quite self-conscious except when boasting. But when he moves a bit too much, the gauze around the wound on his chest, where he was shot, flares up.

"Yeah! Ow! Damn… Well, my Sigil allows me to touch people's memories, dreams, nightmares, and conscious minds. It's fairly easy to become psychologically invisible, but much harder to manifest a dream or nightmare like you saw when we were fighting the Phantom Pain. He is much better at illusions than me, but I can still fair just fine."

I nod along with the reasoning and agree. Virgil should have someone watch over him. He's not in the right mind space. Any bit of help will be good. I also catch onto something that Abraham says, though. Can he touch memories? Could he… Maybe.

"That sounds like a good idea, but hey, Abraham, I have a question."

Abraham waves me on.

"Uh huh?"

"Could you help me search my memories?"

Abraham tilts his head at me weirdly, not understanding why I'm asking him this.

"I could possibly. Memories are hard to search through. Most of the time, I can only read recent ones. Why?"

I attempt to explain myself as best as I can.

"I've been thinking about something. When I got the Blooming Spider Lily from my Ma, there were five bullets. These bullets let me fire the gun without repercussions. I used four, so one remains. The only issue is that I don't know what happened to it."

Abraham nods along with me, and Johnny's face grows ecstatic at the fact that a bullet for the Colt remains. He obviously likes the idea of being able to fire the Colt without repercussions, should we get it.

"Yeah, I could try. The more attached you are to the memory, the easier it will work. Sit with me."

I sit alongside him as I try to reassure him how attached I am to the memory. Nothing is more explicit in my mind than when Edmund died, and I suspect that's when the bullet was lost.

"Don't worry about that. This memory is seared into my brain."

"Good. Here, stay calm and just close your eyes. Think of the memory."

I stay still and close my eyes to his directions. I try to relive the moment. The one I do every time I close my eyes. After a short moment of silence, while focusing on Edmund's death, I feel two fingers touch my eyelids and press down on my eyeballs. The pressure feels strong and only grows after a few seconds nearing the point of pain in my eyeballs. But just as I start to raise my hand to stop him, I'm back in the forest.

Leaves rustle as I view the surroundings from a new perspective. Somehow, the world is not in my eyes. It is from just a few feet around me. And after a moment of me looking around and seeing Alexos start to speak to Edmund and me, I see Abraham appear next to me. His pale hair and body are starkly different from the rest of the dark forest.

He looks around for a few moments and nods with understanding.

"Hmm. Interesting. This memory is quite… bizarre."

I turn to him and ask what's wrong, but I mostly just ignore Alexos words. He says something about my family killing people, something I believe is a lie.

"What do you mean?"

Abraham puts a hand into the air and looks at it.

"It's… too complete. Way too complete. I mean, look around. No fuzz. No oddities. Nothing wrong."

I do as he mentions and look around the edges of the forest. It goes as far as I can see, almost as if I'm actually here.

"So what? This memory is special to me. Something I think about a lot."

He walks a bit forward to where the old me stands in the memory, just as the old me gets hit with a word from Alexos that fills my body with pain. The me in the memory falls to the ground as Edmund protectively moves around him. Only when Abraham kneels down and looks into the old me's eyes does he speak.

"That wouldn't cause this. It would only make it colorful. There is something seriously wrong. It's almost… it's almost like something has meddled with your mind, changing it. And one of the side effects is a clear awareness of the world to your subconscious."

I twist and stare at him. He has to be bullshitting. How could something change my mind? How? The Bloody Palm, maybe?

"Do you think it was the Bloody Palm?"

Abraham kneels and freezes the memory, making every stop around us as his face moves closer and he looks deeper into my eyes.

"No, I doubt it's the Bloody Palm. These changes… They are not new. I can't even find where they begin. Everything is wrong. The eyes are the window to the soul, Wyatt. But in your memory, I can't find it. It's like it's murky and hard to see."

I grow frustrated at the man calling my mind wrong without any idea what was wrong. All I wanted to do was find where the bullet was.

"Stop spewing random bullshit, Abraham. What's wrong with me? What caused it? And where is the bullet? That's what we came here for."

Abraham shakes his head as he moves away from the old me. He snaps again, and the memory moves again. He points ahead to answer one of my questions. Edmund kneels down to me and wraps an arm around me. With that arm, he uses a string of blood to stealthily move a bullet from Lily's chamber and into his hand.

The old man then gives me some encouragement as he stands and bursts forward, but as he does, the bullet is slid into the chamber of his revolver on his hip with another strand of blood without being seen.

Abraham stops the memory and makes me grow confused. How can I see this? How do I not remember it?

Abraham seems to see my question as if he's seen it many times before.

"The waking mind takes in an absolutely incalculable amount of stimulus. Only Mentalists like myself can accurately calculate everything within our senses. For other people, much of it is left unprocessed and shunted into memory fuzzily to never be touched again. You saw, heard, and probably even felt this happen, but only barely. Your mind simply couldn't process it alongside everything else. But it truly is unnaturally clear... Even behind you is perfectly recreated. Are your senses that honed..."

He trails off a bit, only succeeding to lose me. My lips pull a tight crease. Does his explanation make sense, though? I guess it does. If anyone would know how the mind works, it'd be a Mentalist. At least I know where the bullet is now, in Edmund's grave with his revolver. He never managed to shoot the bullet he took. Maybe that bullet can be fired from any gun, not just Lily. That could be pretty useful.

But I won't let Abraham off the hook from what he said earlier. I press him on it again.

"I guess that makes sense. So, the bullet is in his grave. He was buried with all his stuff, including his revolver. But what about earlier? What's wrong with me, Abraham?"

The most experienced Mentalist I've ever met, although he's like the only one, answers grimly.

"I… I don't know Wyatt. Your brain is unlike any I've ever seen. Everything is in the wrong places, and some missing entirely. I can't even find the outline of your soul. There is something seriously wrong with you. And I doubt an artifact did it. Maybe it's your heritage? Maybe you're just special? I don't know. Can we leave, though? I'm starting to feel uncomfortable. Like something is watching me."

His words only further confuse me, but I reluctantly agree after a few moments of looking around. But there simply is nothing there watching us. He must just sense the Bloody Palm staring at us or something. And so, with a swirl of his hand, we return to the sandy ground of the dunes with the knowledge of where the last bullet is.