Nexus Knight [Chapters 30-35] (Patreon)

Hey peeps! 

Almost done with this novel. Release date soon. Grandmaster and Academy chapters incoming this weekend! <3

Shami

—Chapter 30—

—The End of Game Three—

Kellan stepped out of the shadows in the middle of the bizarre road.

The combination of business district and World War I wasn’t a pleasant sight. Parked cars were wrapped in barbed wire, their parking meters surrounded by landmines. The way the Nexus combined certain terrains never failed to amuse Kellan, but he wished he could view them all from the safety of the AVU Palace, rather than be up close and personal with everything.

Determined to avoid the claymore mines, Kellan shifted back into the darkness and moved with the safety of a shadow. Since he could only shadow-step ten feet at a time, it took him two more jumps before he reached the mangled corpse. The many mines, and rolls of silver barbed wire, made reaching for the body a difficult task. Kellan planted his feet firmly on the ground, and then hesitated.

Trip wires.

They weren’t thick metal cord, like on claymores he was familiar with this. They were spiderweb thin, and barely visible in the black fog. Thanks to Kellan’s superhuman senses, however, he spotted them before anything could trigger.

He took another long drag on his hane and exhaled smoke. It mixed with the dark fog. He had two mana now. In a few minutes, he would recover his max of four for the day.

Careful not to touch anything, Kellan knelt and scooped up the arcana from around the body. The red crystals felt warm to the touch, and each one offered a strange sensation and a fleeting memory. Something about… wanting to win…

[Alex Kellan] absorbed 12 arcana.

“That’s an outrageous amount of arcana,” he muttered to himself.

While Kellan rooted around the corpse like a vulture, he noticed something in the pocket of the man’s rotted jacket. The moment Kellan touched the clothing, the fabric around his fingertips disintegrated. All that remained was a keycard.

Kellan’s eyes gave him all the info he needed.

Magical Item [Reusable]—VIP Lounge Keycard (Floor 1)

The mage gains access to the first floor of the AVU Palace’s VIP Lounge. Can be used multiple times. Only grants a single person access.

A VIP Lounge? Kellan hadn’t even known that one existed within the palace.

Interesting.

He pocketed the keycard, his own pants coming apart at the seams. He’d have to be careful. Thankfully, magical items weren’t affected. His armor would stay with him despite the corrosive environment.

Then the soft click of metal on metal drew Kellan’s attention to the opposite side of the street. Someone was in a nearby building, and before anything could happen, Kellan dove back into the darkness like how a frightened bird took to the sky whenever there was a slight noise.

When he stepped out of the shadows, he was caught the last half of a claymore mine explosion. Rubble flew through the air. The ground shook. The force knocked most of the barbed wire and wooden stakes from the road.

Kellan shielded his face as he grunted and leapt backward. There went his hane, tumbling away in the aftershocks of the explosion.

Part of his pants caught on the barbed wire. He thought he might fall—get tangled in the trap, like the sad sack before him had—but Kellan went straight back into the darkness to avoid the flame and chance of tripping.

When he emerged a second time, he was in a pile of barbed wire. The small metal bits cut into his shoulder and arms as he stepped out of the shadows. He felt no pain, though. Just as he felt no pain with the fog. But the worms…

The more damage Kellan’s body received, the more the worms struggled to keep him together.

Was his Mold Metal ability still active? Kellan grabbed the barbed wire and hoped his thirty minutes wasn’t up. To his delight, he shifted the barbed wire and freed himself from the deadly trap.

“Kellan!”

All the surrounding buildings had taken a beating. Claymore mines had a good two-hundred-yard range—fifty-five yards around the explosion was destroyed, but the rest was just damaged. The buildings were in the damaged category, their windows shattered, the outer façade cracked and charred.

“Kellan,” someone yelled out again.

Husker. The rennic was leaning against a nearby building, his fur covered in dust and debris. He bled from several injuries, including a few cuts from thrown barbed wire. He had pressed his body over Millie and Sen, shielding them from the attack.

Kellan shadow-stepped to Husker’s side.

A man with black wings exited the building across the street. The man laughed as he took to the sky. He wore a jacket and jeans, but his shirt was ripped and bloody, like he had fought his way through a pack of dogs to even get here.

Name:Kin Line the Raven

Race:Niav

Magics:Storm, Wyld

Rank:B, B

Armor Rating: ---

Health:10/10

Stats:Concealed

Abilities:Concealed

The man had gotten strong since last Kellan laid eyes upon him.

“You’re still alive?” Kin shouted. He pulled a handgun from the waist of his jeans. He was too far for Kellan to see the make or model, but it was a lighter—smaller—weapon.

Bullets blasted the nearby wall as Kin opened fire, clearly intent on ending them.

“I need the damn arcana!”

With gritted teeth, Kellan smirked. “Well, let’s try this laser beam again, shall we?”

He held up a hand and unleashed a blast of light. He spent two mana—one to activate the laser beam, and one to empower it with his meta magic. The beam fired through the air, bright enough to cut through the dark fog around. It scorched through Kin’s wing, Kellan saw the notification, but he ignored it in favor of watching Kin plummet. The bird-like mage hit the roof of a nearby building.

Was he dead?

Kellan wanted to find out…

But Husker placed a clawed hand on his shoulder. “We’re running thin. We shouldn’t.”

Although Kellan hated the idea of missing out on arcana, he nodded once. Then he took Millie and headed down the street, his body constantly rotting a bit, and then being healed by the worms in his system.

With Sen and Husker in tow, they made it down two blocks and then turned. Kellan remembered the entire map—he thought about it constantly, bringing up the streets in his mind’s eye, trying to plot the perfect path.

The closer they got to the goal, the tenser Kellan became. He spotted a couple mages fighting atop the nearby buildings. Bursts of lightning and fire streaked across the sky. Not even the black mists could fully obstruct all the destruction and commotion.

But once they turned down another street, Kellan’s skin no longer knitted itself back together. The worms could no longer mend the damage.

[Tyranny Worms] are unable to restore [Alex Kellan] and return to Infestation Mode.

Of course, Kellan thought with a sardonic smirk.

His skin flaked and rotted off, leaving raw and exposed flesh behind. Although Kellan couldn’t feel the pain, his mind played tricks on him. Every chunk of his body that fell off, withered and hideous, caused him to grimace or shudder. It reminded him of the nightmares he used to have of his teeth falling out of his head.

When he ran his tongue along his molars, the terrible mist had, in fact, loosened them.

He took one damage.

Then another.

Kellan tried to run faster, but the more damage his body took, the harder it became. With each breath, the mist invaded his body, rotting him from the inside out.

“Help!” Millie called out. She reached a hand for Sen. “You need to help him!”

Sen, who clearly hadn’t been paying attention, rushed to Kellan’s side. He placed a hand on Kellan’s shoulder and healed him of three damage.

But the rot persisted.

The damage returned.

Another point of damage.

And another.

Sen healed him again, but the teen clenched his jaw and shook his head. “I don’t have much mana left!”

“We just need to get out of the rot.” Kellan pushed harder, his body threatening to give up. “Hurry!”

When Kellan tried, he easily outran the teenager, even with a person in his arms. But his breathing was strained and ragged. If he could feel pain, he knew his chest would be on fire. Kellan wheezed, and a small splatter of blood coated Millie’s faded clothing.

The instant he made it out of the mist, Kellan smiled and slowed his pace. He barely had three health left. He almost collapsed to his knees, but he managed to keep on his feet. Can’t give up now. Almost there…

After three deep breaths, Kellan took stock of his surroundings. His heightened perception made everything easier. He saw further, and with more detail, and his eyes seemed attracted to even the slightest movement. This must be how superheroes feel, he thought with a cough and a chuckle.

They were on the side of a roundabout—a circular road with a park in the middle. The wide street, with four lanes, was pristine and empty. The park contained a wooden platform. A small flag was planted next to the platform, waving in the gentle breeze. It had a picture of a mechanized dragon, and Kellan knew that had to be the safe zone.

But he didn’t see any other mages there. Were they the first team to arrive?

Impossible.

So where was everyone? Were the teams teleported away the instant they stood on the platform? Or only when they brought their dolls? If it was the latter, Kellan and the others wouldn’t be teleported. Millie wasn’t their doll.

He shook his head, tired of indecision. They needed to leave. Everyone was low on resources.

Kellan briefly considered staying to help Xiang and Mavis, since they were the ones with the real cargo, but he didn’t know where they were. And since he had no mana and barely any health, staying seemed like a poor strategy. Now wasn’t the time to die.

Husker and Sen stopped next to him.

A single mage—a human wearing a black tunic and trousers—ran across the four lanes of the roundabout. He had dashed out from an alleyway between two nearby buildings, breathing heavy as he sprinted to the platform. The mage carried one of the Nexus residents in his arms. The deformed person, missing an arm and most of their shoulder, had a vacant expression. Blood waterfalled from their head, their gray hair matted with crimson.

The resident appeared to have a concussion. But they were still alive.

“Shoot it,” Husker said as he pointed at the doll in the mage’s arms. “If the doll dies, we’ll deny the team a key.”

Kellan couldn’t see the mage’s information or team number from so far away. But he also didn’t care. He understood that knocking out teams before every game turned into a PvP match was a good play, but he also didn’t want to murder innocents to do it. Shooting the mage in the head was preferable to killing the doll.

“He’s not going to shoot anything,” Sen muttered. He glared at the mage as he entered the circular park and headed for the platform. “Our warrior values honor more than I thought he would…”

“Ironic,” Husker replied, half-smiling.

“Right? Tsk.”

Between heavy breaths, Kellan shot them both a sideways glance. “I’m right here.”

Husker snorted. “Your alternate-self wasn’t the most honorable of fellows.”

“I’m not my alternate-self.” Kellan couldn’t believe he had to say it so many times.

The mage and his deformed doll clambered up onto the wooden stage. The moment they got onto the platform, they disappeared. A blast of confetti from hidden cannons filled the sky with bits of colorful paper. It was a rainbow rain of celebration, even though there was no one around to celebrate.

Husker ran by Kellan and huffed. “That’s it! That’s the goal. Let’s go!” He leaned forward and practically ran on all fours, his clawed hands helping with the traction. Husker bounded across the four-lane road and then went straight for the platform.

Even Sen managed to outrun Kellan as he dashed for the finish. The teen kept his arms over his head, shielding his noggin from any surprise attacks that may come for him.

Kellan still didn’t spot anyone else nearby. He hurried as fast as he could toward the platform, his breathing labored. When he made it across all four lanes of the road, his heart hammered in preemptive celebration. Were they going to make it unmolested and undamaged?

Husker leapt onto the wooden platform. The moment his padded feet touched the surface of the wood planks, he disappeared. Pop. One second, he was there, then all Kellan heard was displaced air, and Husker was gone.

Another blast of confetti filled the air.

Sen was next. He leapt onto the platform and vanished.

More confetti. The cannons in the platform didn’t seem to have any limitations to their paper ammo.

With barely any breath, and his body practically falling apart, Kellan slammed into the side of the platform, hoisted Millie onto it, and watched her vanish like the rest. Weak, and trying to muster the energy to step up the three feet to get onto the wooden platform, Kellan glanced over his shoulder.

A giant serpent moved between buildings in the distance, its scales gleaming in the red hue of the Net-tainted sun. The beast was something out of a Godzilla movie. When it moved, however, it took care not to smash the nearby buildings.

Kellan couldn’t believe he and the others had missed the thing.

First bit of luck in this whole game.

With his high perception, and Blitzkrieg Analysis, Kellan saw everything he needed.

Name:Qin Bolo, Living Disaster of Alameda City

Race:Master Yami

Magics:Body, Wyld, Entropy

Rank:Impossible to Rank

Armor Rating: 30 [Scaled]

Health:150/150

Stats:

Strength—30 [Strong Coil]

Dexterity—25 [Fast]

Fortitude—20

Intelligence—2 [Insane]

Perception—10 [Superior Senses]

Willpower—2 [Insane]

Abilities:

Undead—The yami is immune to poison and gas. The yami does not need to breathe or eat to survive. Additionally, the yami feels no pain.

Rebirth Growth—The yami gains +2 to all physical stats (strength, dexterity, fortitude), +10 health, and +1 willpower each time it revives after death. It also gains an additional head (max ten).

Tied to the Arbiter—If the Arbiter is alive, this yami cannot be fully killed. If its health is reduced to 0, it stops functioning, but does not drop arcana. After a short recovery period, the yami is revived at full health. If the Arbiter is dead, this ability doesn’t activate, and the yami drops arcana as usual and then ceases to exist.

“I’m just gonna nope on outta here,” Kellan quipped to himself.

He climbed onto the platform, and the teleportation activated. He was ripped from the play arena, his insides twisting as he traveled. When Kellan’s feet hit the ground, he stumbled around.

He was in the middle of the gambling hall inside the AVU Palace. The green rugs, beige walls, and hazy air were all painfully familiar. Screens with betting odds, and TVs showing footage of the game, kept the place well-lit. Only a few chandeliers hung overhead, and some of them flickered.

The message stating Kellan had returned to an Oasis flashed over his eyes. He patted down his body and examined everything. Xiang’s illusions had dropped. He wore ragged clothing, and now he had the complexion of a leper thanks to the rot. As soon as Kellan received some mana, he’d be able to heal, but in the meantime, he had no choice but to wander around with the appearance of a sickly hobo.

A robot behind a bookie counter spun around. Its face was just a flat tablet with a pair of eyes and a mouth animated on the screen.

“My apologies,” it said in a childish, yet robotic, tone. “You failed to procure a key for your team! You are no longer able to participate. Because there are still other members of your team in the play arena, the Arbiter asks that you wait here until they succeed or fail.”

The robot had a small mechanical body—thin and mostly wires and gears. It had arms and legs, but Kellan suspected he could knock the robot over with a simple push. It didn’t look very sturdy or steady, nor did it stand more than four feet tall.

The machine-person waved a hand at the room, gesturing for him to wait.

“Thanks,” Kellan muttered as he glanced around. “Where’s Millie?”

“Who? No one fits that designation.”

“Team 33’s doll.”

“Oh. She has been transported to the doll room for the key extraction.”

Kellan tensed. He couldn’t grab the robot to demand anything—though he would’ve loved to do that. Instead, he forced himself to remain calm. “Will the key extraction kill her?”

“Negative. Key extraction has resulted in zero deaths over the past fifty Nexus Games.”

A bit of anxiety left him. Kellan offered the weird robot a quick nod before shambling over to a bench. He sat down, and then stared at a TV mounted to the far wall. Footage of the game—in Alameda City—was the only thing playing.

Where were Husker and Sen?

Kellan glanced around, but he didn’t notice them. The gambling hall was practically empty, save for the few robots behind various counters. It was a large room, as well—at least a hundred feet long and fifty feet wide.

Instead of searching, Kellan’s attention was drawn to the TV, and the two figures running through the ruined city. He scooted forward on his bench, his heart racing all over again.

Xiang and Mavis. He recognized them by their illusions. And they still had their team’s doll illusioned like a giant hiking backpack.

The massive serpent… It blasted onto the road with them. Qin Bolo, the Living Disaster of Alameda City. The beast had red scales as dark as bricks, two heads, and eyes as dead and black as a starless night. There were no pupils, no recognition in its snake-faces. It moved almost like a zombie, jerking forward with its serpentine mouth wide, fangs flashing.

Two other mages stood on the street as well. They were rennic—both burly and covered in fur. One held up a hand and blasted the gargantuan serpent with a ball of flame.

It was turning into a real fight now.

The TV had no sound. Kellan just had to watch the battle, unable to participate. He clenched his hands into fists, hating the fact he had stepped on the wooden platform. What if they die?

If Xiang fell in battle, that would mean that all of Team 101 would fail.

—Chapter 31—

—Bred in Captivity—

The massive serpent, Qin Bolo, coiled itself and then struck forward. Although the TV offered no sound, Kellan’s mind filled in the blanks. When a building collapsed, Kellan felt a phantom rumble travel up through his worn boots. When the serpent threw back one of its heads in a roar, Kellan heard the phantom screech as though he were mere feet from it.

The two rennic weren’t cowards.

One charged forward, his claws oversized. He leapt from the street, shooting through clouds of debris and dust, and slammed into the side of the monster snake. The rennic’s claws pierced the thick scales, but only slightly.

Dark energy swirled around the claws, corroding the beast’s body.

The yami had thirty armor, yet the rennic was piercing through. Kellan was impressed—the bastard must have had high damage potential.

But Qin Bolo didn’t give a shit.

The serpent slammed down onto the ground, squishing the rennic between the street and its massive body. Although Kellan couldn’t see any notifications for the damage or status, he practically saw phantom notifications.

[Qin Bolo] strikes [Some Random Delta-Bravo] for a metric fuck-ton of damage.

[Some Random Delta-Bravo] prays his suffering won’t last long.

It’s super effective.

The serpent lifted back up and struck for the other rennic. But mid-strike, it jerked and shuddered, its four ear holes bleeding. Qin Bolo roared with both heads, enough that the buildings nearby shook. Kellan held his breath.

Xiang had used Mind Blasts in the past, which dealt phantasmal damage. It was a mental attack that went straight for a target’s willpower. The lower it was, the more damage the mage dealt to their target.

And this serpent’s willpower was low.

Qin Bolo thrashed, slamming its tail into another building. Then it smashed one head against the road, trying to cure its deadly headache through caveman methods. Its skull broke into the street, collapsing some of the road into the water-filled sewers below.

The city was a swirl of dust, falling concrete, and filthy water. It became difficult to see what was going on. The serpent smashed its way through the city, thrashing like only a mad beast could.

Kellan stood from his bench and approached the TV. Whatever was filming—likely an Eye of the Arbiter—didn’t move or zoom in on the specific action. It just passively filmed the area, like a disinterested security camera.

The serpent’s two heads exploded outward, its skulls cracking. Qin Bolo’s blood didn’t run like a normal person. It was chunky—similar to cottage cheese, just crimson. The thick “liquid” splattered down the side of the serpent’s body, and onto the flooded street. Then the beast collapsed with a whine and whimper.

Was it dead?

Had Xiang blasted it with such a powerful mental blast that both its heads erupted in a spray of gore?

There was no other explanation. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t be gaining any arcana for the endeavor.

The body of the massive serpent remained in the road as the debris and dust thickened around the battleground.

“Is there any way to see a different view?” Kellan asked the robot behind the bookie counter.

“Negative.”

The odds of the game flashed across a screen behind the little robot with the tablet face. Team 101 had its odds for success listed as 25:1.

Which wasn’t good.

Kellan wasn’t really a gambling man, but he understood that the house wanted to make money—or in this case, arcana—and with that kind of payout, the house didn’t expect Team 101 to succeed.

When Kellan returned his attention to the screen, his eyes widened. The serpent lifted both of its heads—and then a third one burst out of its flesh, tearing through scales as it formed. The third head stitched itself together, first through bones, then through muscle, then through red scales that patched up everything.

Now the living disaster was even moreformidable. Would Xiang and Mavis be safe? Even if Xiang could defeat it, time and time again, the monster would always return, stronger than the previous time.

“There’s no way I can go back into the game?” Kellan asked.

The robot’s face flickered on the screen, becoming a frown. “I apologize. Once you exit the game, you’re no longer able to enter. You need to sit and wait for the game to end.”

“Where are my other teammates?”

“Sun Sen and Husker Linis were taken by Pestbyters for questioning in front of the Arbiter.”

“Why?” Kellan barked. He leaned against the counter. “Did they break the rules?”

“Apologies! I do not know.” The robot spun around, its arms up, its face still a cartoon frown. “Please stay seated until the end of the game. It will conclude in five hours, or when all of your team either reaches the teleporter or dies.”

Kellan pushed away from the bookie. The gambling hall wasn’t really his desired waiting room.

Two more people popped into existence, though, instantly turning the room into a scene out of a sci-fi movie. One was human, but the other was nine-feet tall and freakishly alien.

The alien’s body was black and shiny, as though wet, even when completely bone-dry. The creature had no hair, no fur, no whiskers, just a hard armored exoskeleton, similar to an insect or crab. The alien stood on four limbs, the “feet” ending in points, sharp and practically ripping holes in the green carpet. The disgusting beast also had two spindly arms, and two muscular arms, giving it as many limbs as a spider.

Kellan was starting to develop arachnophobia. Every spider he came across in the Nexus was its own special brand of horror show.

The alien’s four arms ended in hands. The smaller arms had delicate piano fingers, but the muscular arms had hands with claws on the fingers.

And the face…

Kellan grimaced when he stared directly at it. Was it the face of a crustacean? The alien had feelers and movable mandibles, with spines on the chin and head.

Although Kellan’s Blitzkrieg Analysis gave him basic information on the alien, Kellan already knew who she was. Viniss Tarkin—a flestiss on Team 42. She was a powerful mage who had shielded Kellan from the terrible madness effects on Overseer Station.

Her info read:

Name:Viniss Tarkin the Vanguard Queen

Race:Flestiss

Magics:Mind, Metal, Travel

Rank:Concealed

Armor Rating: 10

Health:20/20

Stats:Concealed

Abilities:Concealed

Despite the fact Kellan couldn’t see all her stats and abilities, the few he could see had improved. She was getting stronger—all the mages on the other teams were.

The man standing next to her was an odd human. His hair was shaved, and the side of his head sported a black mark that appeared branded straight into his flesh. The gnarled scar prevented any hair from growing. Kellan wasn’t sure what the mark was. It seemed to be a word, or perhaps a number, in a bizarre language.

The man wore tactical gear befitting any high-ranking operative military agent. A utility belt, tactical goggles hanging on a strap from his small backpack, a thin vest, heavy cargo pants, and tight gloves. He also had a metal collar etched with the same writing as the brand on his head. The collar didn’t seem to have any joints or locks or fasteners. Did it ever come off?

The most disturbing aspect of the man was his expression. His face was one marked with stress and scowl lines, and he started straight ahead without much thought behind his eyes. His complexion bordered on burnt.

Kellan’s analysis gave him information on the man.

Name:HR-8, Bred in Captivity

Race:Human

Magics:Magma, Metal

Rank:Concealed

Armor Rating: 12 + 5 Shielding

Health:14/14

Stats:Concealed

Abilities:Concealed

Bred in captivity?

That was the single most disturbing title he had seen on a mage.

Viniss clicked her front mandibles. The noise persisted for a solid minute. Kellan wasn’t even sure if she was speaking, but then he remembered a bizarre fact about the Nexus.

Everyone here could understand the speech of others. Since the Nexus was a mesh of so many dimensions, the Arbiter made it so that everyone could understand everyone else. The opposite of the Tower of Babel.

But that only meant Viniss’s clicking was just that—a strange noise.

Kellan went to walk around the flestiss and return to the TV to watch Xiang and Mavis, but the giant 700-pound alien stepped in his path. She was surprisingly quick for something her size. Kellan had to glance up to meet her crustacean gaze.

“Human,” she hissed, her voice somehow feminine but deep and gravelly. “You have made an enemy of the Flestiss Dominion.”

Kellan glanced at HR-8 and then back at the female flestiss. “I’m pretty sure you started it. I’m just here trying to end it.”

“Your statements to the Arbiter, and your pathetic attempts to sway the other teams against us, will amount to nothing.”

“We’ll see,” Kellan quipped. Again, he tried to step around her. There was nothing to do here—and since they were in an Oasis, it wasn’t like she could attack him.

Viniss threw out one of her muscular arms. She planted her hand on the wall, blocking his path like a crossing guard before a train. Her clicking became louder and aggravated.

“No one will help you,” Viniss stated. “If you are wise, you will join the Dominion before the end of the games. Loyalty will be rewarded.” She placed one of her smaller hands on top of HR-8’s head and petted him gently.

The man didn’t really react to the touch. He just allowed the alien to stroke him.

Kellan wanted to make a snarky reply to that, but it occurred to him that he didn’t know much about the Flestiss Dominion. He had seen glimpses of their operations on Overseer Station—their jails and a factory that recreated arcana by drowning people—but nothing else.

“What kind of rewards?” Kellan asked. He had no intention of joining, but he wanted to hear the pitch first. He never wanted to pass up an opportunity for knowledge.

“The Flestiss Dominion is unrivaled by any other. Our tech, magic, and military are supreme. If you serve, you will be given a place among the ruling class.”

“You live in a class-based society?”

HR-8, who hadn’t moved since appearing in the gambling hall, flicked his gaze over to Kellan, his eyes narrowed. He seemed… surprised.

Viniss’s clicking slowed a bit as she said, “The most powerful societies always utilize their population to its fullest potential. The Flestiss Dominion has perfected this. We judge the potential of beings once born and place them in appropriate roles.” She tightened her grip on HR-8’s head, her black slender fingers practically digging into his skin. “This one here was designated as my retainer.”

HR-8 nodded once. “Yes, my queen.”

The creepy dynamic left a terrible taste in Kellan’s mouth.

Then he realized something. The man’s name was HR-8. Human Retainer Eight.

The brand…

“Let me guess,” Kellan said as he motioned to the brand on HR-8’s head. “People’s roles are clearly marked.”

“So that there is no confusion,” Viniss replied matter-of-factly. “All but the mages who rule are labeled and sorted into their best position. Humans are simple creatures, lacking in grand drive and group cohesion. Left to your own devices, you destroy each other. Under the Dominion, they have become the perfect citizens for our multi-dimension empire.”

A cold chill ran down Kellan’s spine. He pieced together the puzzle on Overseer Station. The Flestiss Dominion had sent mages here to win the Nexus Games so they could use the magic of Zenith to finish their conquest of all the dimensions. Kellan hadn’t known they enslaved humanity only to breed them into the perfect roles—to make them subservient beasts that worshipped the ground the insect-aliens walked on.

It was all too insidious.

“And if I join, I don’t have to be branded?” Kellan asked.

“Mages who rule are given other means to display their authority.” Visniss stepped closer, looking Kellan over with her considerable size and weight. “Your Earth tried to fight us. They were defeated and crushed. The only wise decision is to join us before we’re forced to collect your arcana for our own mages.”

“My Earth wasn’t defeated,” Kellan growled. “That was Brenner’s Earth—the one he betrayed.”

“It matters not. The same will happen with your world. And the next. And all others until there are none left to conquer.”

Kellan held up a finger. “Let me think about it.” Then he lowered his hand. “I’m done. The answer is fuck you. If I get to Zenith, I’m going to use whatever overpowered magic is there to wipe out your whole fucking Dominion. And if that’s not possible, I’ll at least come back for you specifically. So, if you don’t want to get on mybad side, I would suggest you crab-walk your way out of here.”

The female flestiss clicked out a laughing noise. Kellan wasn’t sure how the weird alien race emoted, but he was fairly certain this was a sign of amusement.

“Arrogant and stubborn,” Viniss stated. “We bred those traits out of our humans, and they’re the better for it. This is why your race can’t be allowed to govern itself.”

Kellan stepped around the beast and continued over to the TV, his rage causing his whole body to tense. If he wasn’t constrained by the Oasis, he would’ve probably attacked the flestiss right there in the middle of the gambling hall.

The Flestiss Dominion had a whole stable of humans they bred for their own purposes? Like cattle? The mere thought enraged Kellan so much he found it difficult to think about anything else.

And the worst part was that no one seemed to care.

They were other humans in other dimensions. Just like the Nexus residents—the lack of giving a damn was disheartening to Kellan.

He went to the TV, but the programming had shifted. Instead of showing footage of the Escort game, the screens now displayed shots of the Spin and Win game. A human woman stood next to a rickety wooden wheel in the middle of a vast room. A spotlight lit up the woman and the wheel, but the room was so gigantic that Kellan couldn’t see the walls.

The woman hesitated.

She wore futuristic armor, and the number on her head read: 79. The same as Robbie the Friendly’s. She also had a skull on the back of her hand. She was the team’s Straggler.

Without any words, she reached up and grabbed the wheel. When she spun it, it clattered around, each peg snapping the dial as it went.

Click-click, click, click, click… click… click…

When the wheel stopped, it was on a picture of a diamond and a frog.

The woman’s brow furrowed, and she glanced around. “What does that mean?” she called out, her voice fading into the distance. “I don’t understand.”

A Pestbyter floated over, its spherical machine body a bizarre sight. Its wire tentacles handed over two small pouches. One pouch had a diamond ring, and the other… contained a live frog. Kellan wasn’t sure what to make of that. And obviously neither did the woman. She stared at her “prizes” and then glanced up at the Pestbyter.

Before she could get an answer, the TV flipped to something else.

Kellan found it difficult to concentrate, though. Viniss and her retainer paced around the gambling hall, wandering from counter to counter, speaking to the robots there about something. Kellan couldn’t really hear from this distance, but he hated everything about them.

He returned to the robot he had spoken to before and leaned against the counter. “Are you sure there’s nowhere else I can wait? Anywhere besides this room…” He glanced over at the alien. “I don’t want to mingle with certain teams.”

The robot tilted its tablet head from one side to the other. “My information says you are in possession of a VIP keycard. If you wish, you may wait out the remainder of the game in the VIP Lounge.”

Kellan’s eyebrows both lifted. “Really?”

“Correct! Really!”

“Okay… How do I get there?”

The robot gestured to the nearest wall. “Use your keycard on any wall, and you’ll find yourself in the VIP hall. It’ll take you to the lounge. Enjoy!”

—Chapter 32—

—The VIP Room—

Kellan mulled over the strange information for a full minute. He could use the VIP keycard on any wall to access the lounge? How did that work?

He shook the thoughts away. How did all the dimensions collide together into one mishmash of bizarre death games? There were just some questions he would probably never know the answers to.

Kellan withdrew the keycard from his pocket and pressed it against the beige wall. For a short moment, nothing happened. Kellan almost turned to the robot with a sarcastic comment, but then a line formed on the wall, originating from the keycard. The line stretched up and down until it went from the ceiling to the floor.

After a short breath, Kellan removed the card and stepped back.

The line sank into the wall, and then it proceeded to open like an automatic door at a gas station. The wall slid apart to reveal a dark hallway filled with soft neon lights speckled across the ceiling like a psychedelic night sky.

Kellan glanced around, his eyes wide. He stepped into the darkened hall, his attention on the fantastical ceiling. The wall-door closed behind him with a gentle swish. The hall smelled of cologne or perfume, Kellan wasn’t sure which, but it was pleasant.

He strode forward, taking note of the black walls and posh white rug underfoot. At the end of the hall, he found two doors. One was labeled LOUNGE FLOOR 1, and the other was labeled ELEVATOR.

Kellan’s keycard gave him access to the first floor of the VIP Lounge, so he didn’t give the elevator a second glance. He turned to the other door. It opened as he reached for it, swinging inward with a slow and steady motion.

The inside…

During his time as a Special Forces soldier, Kellan had been invited to several ritzy parties. Some of the super elite military officers thought the only way to thank some of their operators was to throw lavish parties. Kellan had been on more yachts and cruise ships than he’d like to admit.

The VIP Lounge brought back memories of all those things combined.

The room was U-shaped, with a bar in the center. The sides of the lounge were made of giant couches with silk curtains, and enough leather and soft furred blankets to be comfortable no matter the person’s preference. The temperature—Kellan hadn’t even taken note of it before—felt cool without being cold, and a gentle breeze swirled around the area, taking with it a fresh scent of luxury.

Each sitting area not only had privacy curtains, but its own TVs, mini-bars, and servers. The waitstaff seemed made up of every sentient race—except flestiss—and they stood outside the curtains, waiting for requests or instructions.

The waitstaff also wore shirts with no backs, exposing their skin, and pants that hugged their thighs but flared at the bottom. Everything was black or gold, even the couches and curtains, so clean and vibrant, it practically glittered. Kellan didn’t know why, but the color theming helped the feeling of posh relaxation.

He hesitated, taking note of the four sitting areas. One was occupied. Three were vacant.

A man stood behind the bar—a human with short brown hair, a gold vest, a black shirt, and a black ribbon tied around his wrist. He had the sleepy expression of someone who hadn’t slept in five days straight.

Was this man the bartender?

Kellan’s eyes didn’t give him any info, so he assumed the man was mortal, and not a mage.

“Can I help you?” the man asked, his tone just as fatigued as he looked.

“I just need to wait for the end of the current game,” Kellan replied.

The man pointed to one of the empty couches. “Kick your feet up and relax. The Arbiter wants everyone in his VIP Lounges to enjoy themselves.”

Kellan slowly made his way over to the nearest empty couch. When he sat down, he marveled at how soft and comfortable the furniture was.

Magical Item [Permanent]—Dreamweaver Cushion

The mage who sits upon this comforter restores any missing stats for 1 per hour seated. The mage also recovers health at a rate of 1 per minute seated. If the mage has used their willpower, or lost it due to attacks, it is completely restored if the mage sleeps on the cushion, even for just a moment.

Kellan leaned his head back.

His body… His injuries faded at a slow rate, similar to how the Tyranny Worms operated, just slower.

One of the servers—a busty woman with red hair—bounded over, a high amount of energy in her step. She smiled as she approached, joyful and upbeat in all ways.

The woman had more jiggle than Jell-O.

Once she was near, she held out a glass of sparkling blue liquid.

Kellan’s eyes gave him information on her.

Name:Stephanie #2

Race:Figment

Armor Rating: ---

Health:1/1

Stats:

Strength—2

Dexterity—2

Fortitude—2

Charisma—4 [Friendly]

Manipulation—2

Intelligence—2

Perception—2

Wisdom—2

Willpower—? [Varies]

Abilities:

Figment—[Created by the Arbiter]—This figment was created by the Arbiter. If the Arbiter ever ceases to be, this figment disappears along with him. This figment’s willpower is based on the Arbiter’s. The closer the figment is to the Arbiter, the higher the willpower score.

“Hello,” Stephanie practically sang. “Welcome to the VIP Lounge. A full meal will be prepared for you immediately.” She handed him the blue drink. “This is a glintberry wine. It should restore your mana.”

Kellan took the drink. The glass sparkled. Was it made of actual crystal? He took a spit and savored the restorative properties of the drink. The liquid slid down his throat, spreading to his whole body like hot chocolate on a snowy day.

Within a few seconds, his mana went back up to twelve. He closed his eyes, enjoying the rejuvenating sensations. Why couldn’t he have this wine all the time?

“Thank you,” Kellan muttered.

Stephanie replied with a tee-hee.

Before anything else happened, Kellan asked, “You’re a figment?”

“That’s right. So smart you are.”

“Uh-huh. What, exactly, is that? Are you a person? Or some sort of… illusion?”

Stephanie stood straight, her red hair bright under the neon lighting. “Figments are like constructs. We’re made of illusions and telekinetic forces, so we have physical form and can interact with our environment.” She patted the side of the couch to prove her point. “Does that bother you? Some guests don’t like interacting with figments…”

“No, it’s fine.” Kellan hadn’t ever really interacted with a figment before. He wasn’t sure why anyone would send one away, though. Stephanie was beautiful, like fine art. Well, Maxim art, but still art.

She smiled, her face and teeth too perfect for a normal person. Then she bounded away to grab Kellan his promised food. Once she was gone, he reclined back, placed his glass in a cup holder, and glanced over at the TV. The screen was mounted on the wall, but the moment Kellan gave it his attention, it moved toward him.

Kellan lifted an eyebrow.

The TV flickered to life and even turned up the volume all on its own, like it anticipated Kellan’s needs.

To Kellan’s amusement, Bitso was on the screen. The bizarre newscaster sat at his usual desk, leaning heavily on his elbows as he slouched forward. His suit and blindfold were neatly in place, but his tie was wrinkled and flung over his shoulder.

The man pointed to a display screen behind him.

“Every team who decided to play through Davie’s Gauntlet has either succeeded or failed. Why don’t we watch some of the highlights, shall we?” Bitso chuckled as he turned in his chair to “watch” the footage, despite the fact his blindfold was still securely in place.

A rennic mage with white fur was inside a metal warehouse. At one end of the warehouse, there was a goal. The rennic mage waited at the opposite end. An overly deadly and dangerous obstacle course stood between the man and his destination. The rennic smoothed his fur and then ran for the first obstacle. He leapt over a series of saw blades, and then jumped on top of a platform that was suspended over a pit of nails and broken needles. The rennic then climbed up a rope, but for some reason, it broke while the man was halfway up.

The rennic fell onto the platform. It broke, and the rennic tumbled down into the nails and needles. His canine mouth opened in a howl, and Kellan suspected the scream was loud enough to be heard from the moon, but the newscaster’s screen was muted to allow for Bitso’s commentary.

Bitso just laughed. He pointed to the rennic thrashing about on the nails and needles. “Do you see this chump? That’s what he gets for only developing animal and plant-altering magics.”

The rennic waved his bloody hand, and the rope sprang to life. It grew green hemp leaves in an outward explosion, like a greenhouse grenade, transforming the whole warehouse into a garden. The leaves were so numerous and clustered that the mage was able to pull himself off the nails and roll onto a bed of plants away from the hazard.

“That isn’t going to last long,” Bitso said with a smile.

A fire in one of the many obstacles spread to the plants. Then flames raged out of control in the warehouse. The heat and smoke filled the room quickly, and Kellan couldn’t stop himself from watching the inferno grow larger and larger. The rennic tried to flee the hemp-filled room, but panic had clearly set in.

The mage didn’t make good decisions.

When Stephanie brought a tray of tiny appetizers, Kellan barely paid any attention. She spread a napkin out on his lap, and he didn’t even have the presence of mind to thank her before she hurried away.

Right as the rennic mage was being cooked alive on screen, Bitso changed the footage to a different warehouse, one filled with similar obstacles, but in a slightly different arrangement.

“That was fun,” Bitso said. “But I’m sure some of you are anxiously awaiting what Nosferatu did on his run.” He held up a finger and waggled it. “So many of you have bet tons of arcana on Nosferatu to win, but I have to warn you… Nothing is predictable in the Nexus Games.”

With another cackle, Bitso dramatically whipped his chair around to stare at the screen.

Nosferatu, the deformed Nexus resident, stood at one end of the death warehouse, and his goal stood at the other. He waited patiently for the game to begin, his piercing gaze only on his desired destination. Once the buzz saws started up, and the gears in the room turned into position, Nosferatu stepped forward.

Unlike the rennic, who had run as fast as possible, Nosferatu took his time. The first obstacle was a series of electrified wires. They were taut and crisscrossed around so that someone would have to carefully duck and step through each narrow hole between them.

Instead of ducking through, Nosferatu stretched out his hand and grabbed one of the wires.

Kellan scooted forward on the couch, barely able to believe his own eyes. Why would anyone do that?

The wire shocked Nosferatu, a spark flashing from his burnt palm, but it didn’t last long. A second later, the wire snapped from the ceiling, breaking away from the source of electrical power. Once he had it under his control, Nosferatu used the broken wire like a weapon.

His metal magic obviously gave him control over twelve-foot-long wire. Nosferatu controlled it like a limb, moving it toward the buzz saws in the room. When it got close to the saws, Nosferatu threw the wire onto the other electrified wires, causing electricity to short out the saws. Once the wire collapsed to the ground, Nosferatu picked it up. He used it again to clear away another obstacle, and then another.

He even used the wire to sweep away all sharp objects on the floor and around on the ceiling.

Each team only had a few minutes to complete the obstacle course, but Nosferatu hadn’t even really broken a sweat. He rearranged everything in the warehouse and then sauntered over to the exit without much difficulty. Only his burnt palm from the first electrical shock seemed to have had an effect.

His rennic teammate entered the obstacle course afterward. Since everything was cleared, he just ran through, no problems.

“What a bore,” Bitso said with a groan. He slammed his head on the desk. “The leper found one of the few pieces of metal in the room that would answer the command of his magic. Normally the Arbiter uses his meta magic to create anti-magic objects, but occasionally he overlooks things… That’s no fun. Maybe we should switch back to the footage of the rennic burning to death…”

Bitso sat up straight, smiling so wide his face seemed in pain.

“Perhaps we should focus on all the good things to come out of the third game so far. Like how many teams have been completely eliminated from the Nexus Games.” Bitso held up both his hands, his fingers fanned out. “Ten teams. Ten teams have been removed, and we’re not even done with the Escort game. We could still lose people!”

Bitso laughed, his howling mirth practically shaking his newsroom. Then he stopped, smoothed his tie, and “stared” straight into the camera. “I’m so happy. It’s moments like this that remind me of my father’s last words. Don’t, Son! That gun is loaded!”

Silence.

Bitso had no audience, no crew, no cameraman. He waited for laughter from somewhere, but it never came. After thirty seconds, Bitso laughed at his own joke, even going so far as to throw his head back and grab at his stomach.

Kellan could’ve sworn the man was crying bloody tears, but before he could confirm, someone sat down on the couch next to Kellan.

At first, Kellan thought it was Stephanie, but when he finally pulled his attention from the TV, he realized it was a human man.

—Chapter 32—

—Inside the Flestiss Dominion—

The man was strikingly similar to HR-8. Had he come from the Flestiss Dominion?

The man had a brand on his scalp, one that was different from HR-8’s, but not in a way Kellan could articulate. The man was dark tan. Bulky with muscle. Tall. Remarkably still when he was just sitting. But unlike HR-8, this man had grown out his hair. The gnarled scar of his brand didn’t allow him to grow anything, but the rest of his brown hair was shoulder-length.

The number 80 was on the back of his left hand.

“Merry Christmas,” the man said.

When Kellan turned his gaze up to the man, he got all his basic information.

Name:G-7894, Bred in Captivity

Race:Human

Magics:Storm, Metal

Rank:Concealed

Armor Rating: 5 + 5 Shielding [Wind]

Health:10/10

Stats:Concealed

Abilities:Concealed

“I’m glad we have a moment to speak,” G-7894 said. “I’ve been wanting to chat with you ever since the first game.”

G-7894 wore a T-shirt, jacket, jeans, and heavy steel-toed boots. Kellan spotted his shoulder holster and pistol, both of which looked well-loved.

“What can I do for you, G-7894?” Kellan asked. The name didn’t roll well off his tongue.

The man smirked and snorted. “Just call me Gunner. That’s what my designation stands for.”

“Your flestiss designation?”

“That’s right.”

Gunner laced his fingers together and leaned back on the couch. He fidgeted a bit and offered Kellan half a smile.

“When I was born, the flestiss overseer sorted me into the gunner shock troop barracks. I was raised to fight their wars.” Gunner touched the brand on the side of his head. “This is a reminder of my designation, so that the flestiss know my role even before speaking to me.”

Kellan wasn’t a fan of the cruel methodology. It reminded him of an older sci-fi novel written as a warning to problematic societies. The rigid class system and lack of choice made everything feel dystopian.

They sat close together, but Kellan hadn’t bothered to really examine Gunner’s hands until that moment. Besides the number 80, which designated Gunner as part of Team 80, there were a number of faint scars along his knuckles, fingers, and wrists.

“So, what did you want to speak with me about?” Kellan asked as he slowly brought his gaze up to Gunner’s.

“I wanted to thank you personally for saving Hank Gardener during the first game.”

“You already sent me a letter thanking me. You don’t need to thank me twice.”

Gunner’s lips twitched. “Did you enjoy the egg?”

“Yeah.” Kellan glanced at his shadow. “I have a familiar now. An albino wyvern named Vlaze.” I wonder if he’s okay in the darkness?

“Ah. Lucky.”

The comment got Kellan curious. “Why? I figured you must’ve stolen from a wyvern nest or something.”

“Those familiar eggs can be anything. Sure, you can breed familiars to get something specific you want—either type or magic or quality—but when you get an egg from one of the games, the contents are random. You had just as much chance to get a piñata as you did a wyvern.”

The statement reminded Kellan of his blender theory. He had been convinced he would somehow get a sentient blender as a familiar, and it amused him that he wasn’t far off. A piñata familiar sounded strangely bizarre—on a whole new level. It fit the Nexus’s strange world.

Gunner cleared his throat. He seemed in his late twenties, but it was hard to tell. The man’s face was rather haggard.

“I also wanted to talk to you about what you said to the Arbiter.” Gunner’s expression hardened, and his voice lowered. “I sent you a letter because I didn’t want anyone to know we were associated. I feared the Flestiss Dominion would target you.”

“Why?”

“Because they don’t allow runaways and defectors to live.” Gunner pointed to himself. “I would be considered a runaway. And the flestiss don’t take kindly to people who help runaways.”

Kellan held his breath for a moment. When he glanced around, he noticed the TV had moved back to its place against the wall. It had shut itself off and was now just a simple black screen. Had it known they weren’t watching anymore?

Kellan wished he had the talking of the screen to blanket their conversation.

“I’m surprised you’re trying to rally people to fight against the Dominion,” Gunner muttered. “Most mages from other dimensions know nothing about them, so they don’t have any motive to fight the flestiss. And everyone who knows about the Dominion tends to stay out of their way.”

“Everything I’ve heard about these lunatics makes me want to puke.”

Gunner shot him a sideways glance. “I’ve noticed… that you’ve been going out of your way to help others.” He scratched at his neck and then fidgeted with his hands again, as though he couldn’t sit still for too long.

Kellan replied with a single nod.

“Which makes me think you’re the real deal. You actually want to stop them. You want us to team up in order to stop the flestiss from enslaving more of humanity from other dimensions.”

“That’s right.” Kellan glanced down at the tray on his lap. There were dozens of little pastries and finger foods, but he just wasn’t hungry. He placed the tray on the couch next to him in order to better sit closer to Gunner. “Is that what you’re doing here?”

Gunner glanced at Kellan and then positioned himself to match Kellan’s posture. It was… odd. Kellan had never seen someone do that, and he was about to ask, but Gunner replied with, “That’s right. If I get to Zenith, I’m going to use whatever magical powers I gain to free my people and stop the Dominion.”

Finally, someone is talking sense.

“You want any of this food, by the way?” Kellan asked, motioning to the uneaten appetizers.

Gunner eyed the food, his eyebrows knitted. “I find it difficult to eat… normal human food.”

The comment gave Kellan pause. Then he chortled and asked, “What kind of food do you eat? Abnormal human food?”

“I was bred and raised in the Flestiss Dominion.”

Kellan waited for a follow-up statement that would explain what was going on. But nothing ever came. Gunner just stared at him with a cold expression.

“And?” Kellan asked. “Surely, they feed the humans in the Dominion.”

Gunner’s lips twitched again. He scratched at his neck, his nails digging deeper, and then he shifted around the cushioned seat. “I thought… because of the way you’ve been acting… you knew about the conditions in the Dominion?”

“I’ve never been there,” Kellan stated. “I didn’t even know the Dominion existed until I started the Nexus Games.” He leaned in close, his irritation rising. “And everyone here is too damn busy with their own plans, schemes, and social orders to give me the time of day. I asked all the questions, but only a few people bother to answer.”

The information settled over Gunner like an obvious wet blanket. He tightly laced his fingers together. “Well, I’ll have to show you a few things, then. So that you fully understand.”

“How?”

Gunner stood. It was sudden and dramatic, like a horn had been blown and now was the time for attack. He turned on his heel with military precision and walked out of the sitting area.

Confused, but intrigued, Kellan also stood. He followed Gunner to the back of the VIP Lounge, ignoring the other figments walking around. Since the lounge was U-shaped, they went to the very back of one side. There, Gunner stopped in front of a black door that matched the coloration of the walls. It was difficult to see from the bar, but Kellan noticed it the moment he drew near.

“What is this?” he asked.

Gunner grabbed the handle. “This is a Room of Manifested Dreams. Think of it like… a large magical item you can walk around in.” He pushed open the door and walked into a small ten-foot by ten-foot space.

The floor was flat marble stone, as were the walls. No windows. No decorations. A few lights were mounted into the ceiling, but that was it. If Kellan hadn’t known any better, he would’ve said this was a giant, luxurious closet and nothing more.

But then he spotted a man leaning against the wall.

He was dressed the same as the bartender, with a vest, tie, and ribbon around his wrist. The man jumped to attention when Gunner and Kellan entered. Then he bowed at the waist, deep enough to form a perfect ninety-degree angle.

“Welcome to the Room of Manifested Dreams,” the man said with fake cheer in his tone. “I’m your host, Bellz. The Arbiter wishes you all the fun in the world here.” Bellz stood straight, his lanky frame awkward, like an older teen’s. “The Arbiter understands you might be homesick. This room uses illusions to show you different worlds, creating images of places in other dimensions in real time.”

Bellz used jazz hands for the last two words, like it was an amazing selling point.

“We can see other dimensions here?” Kellan glanced around at the plain walls and floor. “So, this is a Holodeck situation? Like in Star Trek or whatever?”

Bellz anxiously rubbed his hands together. “I don’t know why so many people say that… But please understand that I have to stay inside the room while you use it. By command of the Arbiter.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I really don’t want to know all the shameful things you mages do behind closed doors,” Bellz whispered to himself. “But does anyone listen to me? Nooo.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Kellan muttered. “We’re here to see what’s happening in other dimensions, aren’t we?” He turned to Gunner. “You want to show me what it’s like in the Flestiss Dominion?”

Gunner nodded once. But then he touched the brand on his scalp and stared at the floor. “Before we do that… Do you mind if we look around your dimension? I’ve always wanted to see… a world where humans were the only ones inhabiting it.”

Although that sounded like a waste of time to Kellan, it wasn’t like he could leave just yet. Xiang and Mavis still hadn’t completed the game. He was stuck here anyway, and if Gunner wanted to see a plain-o-boring Earth, what was the harm?

“Fine.” Kellan waved a hand around. “Can the Holodeck show us my dimension first?”

“It’s not a Holodeck,” Bellz whispered. Then he wore his fake smile and said in a loud voice, “Of course! The Room of Manifested Dreams will show you what you desire!”

The walls, floor, and ceiling shimmered and shifted with the consistency of a heat mirage. All at once, the room transformed. They were no longer in an empty black marble closet—they were in the middle of Fayetteville, standing on a sidewalk in the busier areas around brewpubs and local shops.

The scene almost shocked Kellan.

It was his home, but it was more than that… The details were more accurate than he had been expecting. The smells, the temperature, the sun in the sky—everything was identical to how he remembered it. Even the brewpubs nearby, packed with customers, some even eating at tables outside, were recreated with loving attention.

Green, red, and orange trees lined the side of the road, their branches swaying.

Kellan felt as though he could start walking his way to Fort Bragg, that was how well he knew this area of Fayetteville. He glanced around, smiling as he did so. He hadn’t realized how much he missed normal. His Earth had none of the twisted madness found in the Nexus.

However…

In a lot of ways, Kellan now saw it as mundane.

The people eating burgers and sharing beer were all wrapped up in inconsequential conversations. They were obsessed with glancing at their phones, or talking about the newest TV show, and Kellan felt so far removed from their interests that it was like he was an alien in his own hometown.

The brick restaurants, beautiful trees, and fancy cars had little appeal to him other than nostalgia.

But Gunner seemed to be the exact opposite. The man spun around on the sidewalk, trying to take everything in all at once. Then he spotted the burgers and the beer. He wandered over, his eyes wide. At first, Kellan thought he was intrigued by the food, but Gunner wandered by all that and went for the restaurant.

With shaky hands, Gunner caressed the red bricks. Then he turned his attention to the window and touched that, too. When he started rubbing the windowsill, Kellan grew concerned.

“Can people see us?” Kellan asked Bellz, who stood just a few feet off.

“These people are all illusions,” Bellz replied. “They won’t ever react to your presence.”

“That’s good.” At least we won’t have to explain to the cops why Gunner is molesting the building.

Gunner stopped admiring the building and instead went to one of the tables. He sat with a couple, admired their plates and silverware, and then moved to another table where a man quietly fed his guide dog.

“Are you okay?” Kellan asked.

A gentle North Carolina breeze swept through the air. Kellan loved the sound of rustling leaves. It had been a long time since he had heard them.

Gunner stood from the table and walked over to Kellan. “I’m just… I’m in awe. I’ve seen ruins of human civilization in the Nexus, but I’ve never seen this before. Humans did all this by themselves? No magic?” He motioned to the people having a good time. “They’re not constantly fearing for their lives?”

Kellan slowly shook his head. “Yeah. Humans built all this. No help from anyone or anything else. And no. Most people don’t fear for their lives. At least, not here. I’m sure in other places, that’s not the case.”

“That’s just so… wonderful.”

“The bar to impress you must be set real low,” Kellan said. “This isn’t even one of the most interesting cities.”

Gunner watched a family with two children as they ate their meal. He didn’t even acknowledge Kellan’s statement. Gunner just stared, observing the father and mother as they spoke to their kids about school and how one of them had lost their lunch box.

It was nothing more than an innocuous conversation about what kind of lunch box would be a suitable replacement. Despite that, Gunner listened with rapt fascination.

“This is amazing,” Gunner whispered. “I wish… I could’ve been born in a dimension like this.”

Amazing?

Kellan crossed his arms, feeling odder by the moment. Nothing in front of him seemed particularly amazing. It was quaint. And peaceful. But nothing significant was happening.

“Thank you so much for this,” Gunner muttered.

“Couldn’t you have viewed this at any point?”

Bellz held up a hand. “The Arbiter restricts people to viewing their own dimensions. You can have guests—like you two—but you’re not allowed to use this room to view any dimension your heart desires.”

“Why not?” Kellan asked, a little baffled by the rule.

Bellz didn’t answer.

His silence didn’t sit well with Kellan. Something about the exchange felt off. Why wouldn’t the Arbiter allow someone to view other dimensions? It seemed silly, but… Was the Arbiter trying to hide something?

Kellan couldn’t shake the feeling.

“Enough,” Gunner said, tearing his attention away from the family. “No sense dwelling on things that cannot be.” He rubbed his palm over the brand on his hand, like he was trying to wipe it clean from his skin. “Return us to the room.”

The images of Kellan’s Earth faded away.

Another shimmer of mirages swirled around the room, shifting everything back to the black marble. The shiny, reflective floor was clear enough that Kellan could practically stare at himself on the black mirror surface.

“You’ve seen nothing of the Flestiss Dominion?” Gunner asked.

“I’ve seen arcana factories and a prison,” Kellan replied. “But that’s the extent of it.”

The flestiss had been killing people at a fairly high rate in both locations. Kellan had found a soldier being slowly bled out, and cages of people being drowned to easily collect a mass of arcana from afterward. It had been those sights that convinced Kellan the flestiss—and Team 42—needed to be stopped.

What more could Gunner possibly show him?

“Take him to one of the designation facilities,” Gunner whispered, his gaze on the mirror-like floor.

Kellan braced himself for a scene of hundreds of flestiss oppressing humans. For some reason, he pictured the flestiss whipping the humans into submission, forcing them to build starships or magic facilities—something out of 1700 BC Egypt.

But when the room shifted with images and colors, there were no sand dunes, whips, or chains.

Kellan found himself standing in a long rectangular room with no windows. Were they underground? The walls reminded him of a submarine. Doors, electronics, screens, and hatches were built so thoroughly into the building, they were all interconnected. And technology—the wires, computers, and keypads—was a leathery, fleshy black, somehow organic, pulsing with life despite the fact it was all obviously tech.

Dog-sized pods lined two walls. They had glass covers, but the glass itself was reflective—Kellan couldn’t see in, he could only see his own face. Hundreds of them filled the room, each perfectly spaced from one another.

No one was in the room. Machine arms, mounted on the organic-tech wall, reached for the pods and tapped at the controls, caring for everything without anything else’s supervision or inputs.

One pod opened, and Gunner walked across the room to approach. He motioned for Kellan to follow. After a moment of hesitation, Kellan did as he was asked.

Bellz remained behind, quiet and smiling, obviously content to be left out of the tour.

“These are uterine replicators,” Gunner stated as he motioned to the contents.

Kellan glanced inside to find clear goo and a human fetus. Not a mature fetus, but one only half-formed. It sat in the fetal position in the goo, attached to tubes and a few small wires. The pod monitored its growth.

“These grow fetuses,” Gunner stated. “They’re extracted from females and then gestated in vitro, rather than in a human body.”

Kellan stepped away from the pod. “Like some sort of Matrix shit?”

The other man stared at him without a hint of recognition. Why would Gunner have seen the Matrix? Kellan sighed.

“What happens when they’re done baking?”

“They’re sorted and given designations.”

Gunner pointed to one of the submarine-style doors. It unlocked, and then a flestiss walked into the room. It scuttled over to the pods with its four disgusting legs clicking the whole way. It checked on the contents of the pods, tapping on the computer screens with its small delicate hands. One pod opened, and the flestiss took out the fully formed child and cradled it close. The flestiss’s black exoskeleton was smeared with goo as it ripped out the wires and tubes and then held the child up to view it fully.

“The readouts indicate this one has superior strength and dexterity,” the flestiss said to the computer. “Fortitude is low. Sort this one as a vanguard shock trooper.”

The machine arms went back into the wall and then emerged again, this time with an odd soldering tool. While the human child was unconscious, the machine took the tool and branded its scalp, burning the flesh away and quickly writing the human’s designation in a place for all to see.

The baby didn’t wake or move.

Once finished—and the skull burnt and bleeding—the flestiss placed the child back into the goo. With a quick tap of its clawed finger, the flestiss shut the hatch and moved to the next pod.

Gunner motioned for Kellan to follow again.

Although Kellan was slightly horrified, nothing here had seemed as disturbing as the factory or prison. Up until Gunner gestured to a much larger pod. This one didn’t have a reflective hatch—Kellan could easily see inside. It was more of a vat—some sort of waste bin where black goo and chunks floated around inside.

“All the children who aren’t suited for a designation are thrown in here,” Gunner stated matter-of-factly. “They’re ground up into an organic paste used for other purposes around the Dominion.”

At first, Kellan wasn’t sure what he was looking at.

But then it hit him.

This was human-embryo soup. He stepped back, an icy indifference settling over his thoughts, as if to shield him from the anger that was quietly building.

“What kinds of humans aren’t suited for designation?” Kellan quietly asked.

“All the physically weak. Or those who are missing one of their major senses. Those with poor eyesight. Any prone to early death through cancer or organ failure.”

The whole room felt chill and dark. Kellan glanced away, trying to imagine what it would be like to live in such a place.

“Once you’re sorted, the pods are emptied into your facility, and you’re raised by the flestiss tamers who teach you only the things you need for your role.” Gunner spoke as though he already knew all of Kellan’s questions. “If you’re ever damaged, they send you to the arcana factory—they don’t tell you that, of course. They say you’re going to get healed, but then you never return.”

Kellan didn’t respond.

“Unless you’re female.” Gunner sighed. “All human females who are damaged beyond usefulness are brought to the breeding facility. Their eggs are harvested, or they’re put in the pits.”

Kellan feared asking, but he did so anyway. “What are the pits?”

“Facilities where they keep human bodies. They’re… medically unconscious. Shock troops can do what they want to them. The bodies never know. They never wake up ever again.”

Human bodies. Kellan suspected Gunner was trying to shield him from the horrific reality that was the breeding facilities.

“It’s to reward good behavior,” Gunner said. “The flestiss say they’re being benevolent and resourceful because they never allow human bodies to go to waste. Either they’re used for this… goo… or they’re recycled in the pits for entertainment.”

Kellan glanced back at the organic soup.

Now he had seen three locations in the Flestiss Dominion. He had seen how they treated enemies of war. He had seen how they made their own mages stronger. And now he had witnessed how they treat their “lesser citizens.”

Everything in the Flestiss Dominion—that wasn’t flestiss—was a resource. Or cattle. Or something in between.

And they wanted to control everydimension.

After a hard swallow, Kellan asked, “Does everyone know about this?”

“Most people don’t know.” Gunner moved to the side of a pod and placed his hand on the hatch. “They don’t want to hear it. I tried to tell them… I was raised in the Dominion… and that I never had a mother or father… and that I was trained to serve or perish. But the mages of the Nexus Games all come from other dimensions—ones without the flestiss. So they don’t believe me. Or just don’t care.”

It now made sense to Kellan why Gunner had been so focused on the family back on Earth. Gunner had been designated a shock trooper at birth, raised inside a barracks, and told that if he ever became too damaged, he’d be ground up like hamburger for his arcana.

What a fucked-up existence.

“What kind of food did you eat?” Kellan asked, remembering Gunner’s strange reaction to the appetizers.

“Nutrient paste. We were given tubes with paste to eat for every meal. Anything else… feels disgusting in my mouth.”

Kellan frowned just thinking about eating pudding for every meal for his entire life.

“I escaped,” Gunner whispered as he ran a hand over the pod. “During the Season of the Conflux. People are pulled into the Nexus from all other dimensions. I was yanked out of the Flestiss Dominion and brought here.”

Kellan held his breath. He knew people came to the Nexus through weird means, but he didn’t realize it had happened in the Dominion.

“At first, I was afraid that the flestiss would hunt me down for deserting my post.” Gunner glared at his own reflection. “Thinking back at how frightened I was… I’m disgusted with myself. As soon as I realized I could gather arcana, and become my own mage here in the Nexus… I quickly jumped at the opportunity to participate in the Nexus Games.”

“Why?”

“Well, first… if you participate in the Nexus Games, you can’t be forcefully removed from any dimension—especially not the Nexus. The Arbiter has a Dimensional Anchor ability that prevents people from teleporting you away.”

“Okay. And what else?”

“And then I heard about Zenith!” Gunner whirled on his heel to glare at Kellan, his whole body shaking, his hands clenched in tight fists. “You’ve heard the claims. It’s all the other mages here talk about! Zenith is a dimension with infinite magic! No need for arcana—your magic is empowered far beyond anything you could hope for! You become a god. The perfect dimension.”

“Well, some of these claims seem exaggerated,” Kellan muttered, still skeptical, but becoming less so each new day. Everyone wanted into Zenith. Could they all be wrong?

Gunner stepped closer to Kellan, bordering on hysterical. His tanned face shifted to a dark red. Even the brand on his head had drained of color and become bright white. “Do you see what’s going on here? We can’t allow the flestiss to have god-like powers! They’ll do thisto every dimension!”

Kellan placed a hand on Gunner’s shoulder and squeezed tight. For a prolonged moment, they said nothing to each other. It seemed to work—Gunner took a deep breath and then brushed Kellan’s hand from his shoulder.

“I’m calm,” he snapped. “I just… I apologize. I’m getting frustrated. No one ever seems to listen.”

“I’m listening.”

The statement rocked Gunner. He turned his attention to Kellan’s gaze, searching his eyes like he wanted to make sure Kellan wasn’t lying. “No one else will,” Gunner finally muttered.

“Then we just have to make sure no one from the Flestiss Dominion wins the Nexus Games.” Kellan crossed his arms. “We’ll team up. Nosferatu, from Team 5, already proposed we make an alliance. He wants to help the people of the Nexus. Our goals don’t have to perfectly align, we all just need to be on the same page about the Dominion.”

“You… made an alliance with Team 5?”

“That’s right.”

The click of the flestiss in the room drew Kellan’s attention. It scuttled over to another pod and had another baby branded. Although it was all an illusion, the sight still bothered Kellan. Somewhere, in another universe, this was taking place for real.

“I don’t know… how to be a normal human,” Gunner said through gritted teeth. He glanced away from Kellan and glared at his boots. “I… I want to thank you for agreeing to help me, but I’m not sure… what to do?”

With awkward movements—like he was a robot—Gunner stepped close to Kellan and slowly wrapped his arms around the other man. It was the most bizarre hug Kellan had ever experienced in his life.

Gunner even offered a couple pats, but only after he seemingly remembered that it was part of the “thanking” ritual.

Then Gunner stepped back and slowly lowered his arms.

“You’ve been thanked,” Gunner stated matter-of-factly.

Kellan stared at the man, unsure of how to respond. He forced himself to smile and then nodded. “Well, that’s one way to do that, I guess. Where did you learn that?”

“I saw a few other humans doing it.” Gunner scratched at his neck. “I’ve watched the others for most of the games. I think we’re supposed to shake hands for greeting partners, and embrace—like we just did—for thanks. And we press our mouths together right before we undress in each other’s presence.”

Kellan snorted. “That all seems to check out,” he quipped.

Gunner waved his hand. “Take us out of here, please, Bellz.” With a shudder, he just stared at the floor, even as everything shimmered and shifted back into black marble. Once they were back in the AVU Palace, Gunner glanced up. “I feel like the embrace wasn’t enough to express my gratitude. Do humans… have a higher form of thanks giving?”

“Cooking turkey,” Kellan said—because he couldn’t help himself, and deep down he was probably dead inside after all the killing. Then he just slapped Gunner’s shoulder and added, “Listen, don’t worry about it. Just focus on becoming a stronger mage. Once we’re done with the Nexus Games, and we’ve made it to Zenith, we can go back to my Earth together, and I’ll show you everything you’ve ever missed out on.”

Although they hadn’t known each other long, Gunner shifted his weight from one foot to the other, half-inching his way over to Kellan as though he would offer another awkward hug. He was obviously emotional, though he didn’t seem to have the tools to express it other than fidgeting and glancing around.

“Thank you,” Gunner stated. “I swear as the leader of Team 80, you will have our unwavering support.”

—Chapter 33—

—The Oom—

Kellan, Gunner, and Bellz stood in the empty square room. As Kellan mulled over the information, he tried to think of the Flestiss Dominion as an enemy nation. How would he react if he were a nation trying to bring about their downfall?

“Who leads the Flestiss Dominion?” Kellan asked. “What’s their governing structure?”

Gunner snorted out a laugh. “They have a strict hierarchy based on magical power and skill aptitude tests. But… the entire Dominion is ruled by one mage and has been forever.”

“Who is it?”

“It’s… It’s an Oom.” Gunner rubbed at his arms. “I don’t know if you’re aware of them, but…”

“An Oom?” Kellan narrowed his eyes. “They’re messed-up space whales, right?” He had seen an image of one in the Catacomb Maze.

“That’s right, I suppose. They’re… magical beyond reason.” Gunner shot Bellz an odd glance. “Can we show him the Oom in my dimension? The one who runs the Dominion.”

Bellz just shrugged.

The room shifted all over again, but this time, there were barely any colors. Black mixed with black, creating a void and then filling it with distant objects. As if they were standing in space, Kellan forced himself to look around.

They were standing in space.

Stars twinkled in the vast distance. Sol, the star of the Milky Way, shone with a blinding brilliance. Kellan covered his eyes as he tried to glance around it.

That was when he saw it.

The Oom.

He caught his breath, shocked at how massive the beast was. Kellan stood over a wrecked and twisted Earth, but there was the Oom, orbiting the moon like a creature straight out of a Lovecraftian tale.

The cosmic horror was, in fact, whale shaped, but it had six fins, holes along its spine, and eyes that were fixed shut. Its skin was an odd reddish-brown, and it moved more like an asteroid than a fish moving through water. The longer Kellan stared, the more he realized it wasn’t moving at all. The gravitational pull of celestial bodies was all the Oom needed.

Gunner pointed at it. “The Oom are a race of space-dwelling mages with a special ability they call Dynastic Telos. Their children are all born with the highest ranks of magics that their parents possess. Which means… Even an infant Oom typically has multiple M-rank magics. They’ve had generations to perfect their magics in order to breed themselves into unstoppable powerhouses—but they only have children once every few millennia. They’re rare, but godly.”

Kellan nodded along with the words, hoping he understood the significance.

“The Oom are almost as old as the primordial dragons,” Gunner muttered. “They have a fierce rivalry. And since thisOom rules over the Dominion… I assume it’s the one who orchestrated the plot to kill the Arbiter and take the magic of Zenith.”

“Why didn’t the Oom just participate in the Nexus Games?” Kellan quipped.

Bellz cleared his throat. He walked forward, stepping out of the darkness of space and holding up a single finger. “Oom and starkin aren’t allowed to participate in the Nexus Games. That was decreed by the primordial dragons around the dawn of time.”

Kellan was starting to see the full picture. “So this Oom rules everything with an iron flipper. Who rules things under it?”

“Flestiss queens,” Gunner stated. “The flestiss operate similar to… well, I learned it as bees. They have a hierarchy they follow, with queens at the top.”

More of the puzzle came together. If the Oom couldn’t play the games to get into Zenith, then it would have its faithful minions—the flestiss—do all of its work for it. And in return, the flestiss were allowed to rule over everything else.

Insidious.

While all of this was fascinating, Kellan had heard enough. Anger and confusion raged within him. Why weren’t the others upset about this? How could Team 42—made up of four humans and only one flestiss—think this was a good idea? What were their motives? They wanted to be the first slaves, instead of the one thousandth?

“I’m done with this,” Kellan stated.

The illusions faded, returning them once again to the empty room.

Gunner frowned. “I apologize if it was too much.”

“It wasn’t too much. I just have a lot to think about, and now is the time to do it.”

“Hm. Now is the time for rest. Game four will surely begin tomorrow. Come. Let’s leave this place.”

With a nod to Bellz, Kellan and Gunner exited the Holodeck. Kellan didn’t care what its real name was, he thought it of it that way just to spite the worker who insisted on using the proper name.

The VIP Lounge was empty. The mages in the other sitting area had left. All that lingered around now were the figments.

“I’ll see you in the games,” Gunner said as he walked toward the front door. “If you need me, I’ll be in the suites on the ground floor of the palace. Stay safe until then.” He headed out, his gait strong and militaristic.

Kellan wasn’t sure if Xiang and Mavis had finished with the Escort game.

He returned to his sitting area to find the appetizers had disappeared, but all the cushions had been fluffed, and his empty wine glass had been removed. He took a seat, and the TV moved closer. The screen flickered to life and returned to the Nexus Games coverage—Kellan didn’t have to lift a muscle.

Ice filled his veins. Kellan had never felt so much hate toward something. He didn’t know what to do with his pent-up frustrations. He felt like ripping the VIP Lounge apart just for the hell of it. That wouldn’t do any good, but maybe then he wouldn’t feel so cold.

In an attempt to bleed some of the hate away, Kellan closed his eyes and forced himself to exhale. Then he reclined his chair. There were several hours before the third game was officially over.

Perhaps he could rest until then.

***

Kellan fluttered his eyes open.

He was completely healed, but the ice in his veins remained. How long had he slept? Kellan hadn’t had any dreams, nor had he moved. The couch was so comfortable, and the room so mellow. Everything was relaxing.

Bitso and his bizarre news show appeared on the screen. Kellan forced himself to wake up enough to watch the show, hoping to see more of the other teams attempting to survive. He wanted to know more about his opponents—especially Team 42—and if he paid enough attention to the replay footage, he thought he could glean something of importance.

After rubbing his eyes and yawning, he paid attention to the newscast.

“Well, that’s it, ladies, gentlemen, and everything in between.” Bitso smiled wide, his white teeth streaked with fresh blood.

His clothes and blindfold showed no trace of struggle or conflict, but Bitso’s lips were gashed, both top and bottom, as though he had fallen face-first onto a knife. Blood ran down his chin and dripped onto the desk at a surprising rate. As Kellan watched, some of it slid down Bitso’s neck and finally stained the collar of his pristine suit.

“The third game is officially over.”

The news sent a jolt through Kellan. He sat up and scooted forward, his eyes wide.

“That’s right. Two more teams are officially out of the running. The lucky sad sacks couldn’t handle the yami inside the Escort arena.”

Bitso slammed his hand on his desk and laughed aloud.

“But wait! I have hilarious news. This has literally never happened in the history of the games… Get this. One of the teams outright died. All of them. But they still managed to secure themselves a key from the Escort game! Surprised? You should be!”

Bitso’s cackling filled his newsroom. He laughed and wheezed and slapped his knee like this was the most hilarious joke he had ever heard.

After wiping an imaginary tear from his blindfold, Bitso said, “That’s right. Team 33 died during the Escort game, but their doll was brought to the platform regardless.” Bitso pointed to the screen behind him.

Kellan sighed.

He was on screen. It showed him running across the four-lane roundabout and placing Millie on the teleport platform.

“That’s Alex Kellan the Void Knight,” Bitso stated with a smirk. “He’s illusioned as a member of Team 33, probably to avoid some of his friends out in the game arena…” Bitso touched his blindfold, his fingers pressing so hard, blood bloomed beneath his fingertips. “He secured Team 33’s key, which means he’s the best player on their team! Actually, he’s the best player on everyone else’s team but his own!Because Team 101 didn’t manage to get a key at all!”

Kellan stood off the couch, his heart hammering.

Had Xiang and Mavis died? Was Bitso going to announce it? Should he run from the lounge and find out?

If Xiang is dead, that means I’ve lost the Nexus Games…

“That’s right,” Bitso said, holding up a finger. “If you didn’t get a key in the Escort game, remember that a team comprised of five dead men managed to get one—so what does that say about you losers, huh?” With a chuckle, he added, “The real tactic is to tell the Void Knight a sob story. Then he’ll move Heaven and Hell to see you through. It’s happened at least twice now—maybe more, who fucking knows—so at this point, it’s a valid strategy every team should be incorporating into their playbooks.”

Bitso made fake teary gestures, and even sobbed like a little girl.

Kellan gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remain composed. The chill in his blood wouldn’t leave him, though. His hate had no outlet, and now that Bitso was trying to mock him, Kellan couldn’t help but feel that hate in his direction.

Bitso stopped his dramatic wailing and then stroked his bloody chin. “Huh. Maybe Team 101 should try that. I mean, it would’ve helped them here. Instead, the leader of Team 101 just wandered the play arena gathering resources.”

The screen changed to show Xiang and Mavis wandering through buildings in the play arena. They still had their doll as they wandered around, so why hadn’t they gone straight for the platform? The massive serpent, Qin Bolo, thrashed around in the distance. It had five heads and fought with other mages, their battle enough to shake the camera recording. While that took place, Mavis and Xiang entered a Prize Room…

But then the screen cut out.

What was Xiang thinking?Kellan shook his head. That wasn’t part of our plan!

After running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, Kellan headed for the exit of the VIP Lounge. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to yell at someone, and if Xiang wasn’t going to follow their plans, he supposed she would be the target of his frustrations.

—Chapter 34—

—Fate Magic—

Kellan rubbed at his head as he traveled the halls of the AVU Palace. The blazing red sunset outside filtered through the windows. The VIP Lounge had been dark and quiet, but the rest of the palace was once again filled with the sounds of partying. Despite the fact that they had lost twelve teams, the volume of the celebrations seemed to have intensified.

The music thrummed with the power of an overworked bass. The strobe lights filled most rooms and hallways. At a few points, Kellan spotted people carrying massive amounts of booze from one room to the other.

Everyone was having a grand ol’ time.

It disturbed Kellan that no one seemed to care about everything happening outside the Nexus Games. Then again, if he failed to succeed in the games, what did it matter if the Dominion continued their conquest? Kellan would be dead.

He shook his head.

Failing isn’t an option.

Although the palace could be an Escher-style painting of random doors, stairways, and architecture, Kellan was starting to get a feel for the place. He turned left, then right, and walked through a small library—a library that also had a party raging within. Two rennic were definitely going to town on the sole couch. They didn’t bother stopping as Kellan shuffled by.

Once out of the library, he recognized the main hallway and headed for the stairs. His team’s suite would be on the floor above.

After he ascended the steps, Kellan stopped. Someone was waiting in the hallway. They wore a cloak, with the hood over their head, their shoulders slumped.

Kellan approached at a steady rate, not intimidated by the mystery figure, not when they were in an Oasis. When he drew close, however, he realized who it was. Her flabby skin, bizarre black and blonde hair with occasional bald spots—the odd way she held herself…

Millie.

The doll for Team 33. The dead team.

For some reason, Millie had a black cloak wrapped around her whole body. She held it tight, and even flinched when Kellan got too close.

“A-Alex Kellan,” she whispered.

The hallway was empty, devoid of people and barely affected by the music playing downstairs. Kellan could still detect the thump of rock music, but it was minor. The sunset filled the area with dramatic lighting, but Kellan knew the lights would soon turn on.

He slipped his hands into his ragged pants. Although he was physically healed, his outfit could’ve been stolen straight from a hurricane refugee.

“What’re you doing here?” Kellan asked. He glanced around, hoping to find his teammates nearby, but they were nowhere to be found.

“I came to thank you.”

The soft tone of her voice grated at Kellan’s thin patience. For some reason, the thought of her giving him a single gold arcana for their performance in the last game felt like a joke. He didn’t really deserve it. He should’ve stayed behind to help Mavis and Xiang.

“You don’t need to thank me.” Kellan grabbed the door handle.

“B-But…”

“Just stay safe, all right? Don’t leave the AVU Palace until everyone disappears for the fourth game.”

Millie rubbed her hands together.

When she said nothing, Kellan realized she might want something else. “I can always escort you home. Well, as long as it’s somewhere close. I have to return before the next game begins.”

“You’d take me home?” Millie whispered.

“To make sure you got there without getting killed, yeah.”

“Oh. Um. That’s not… that’s not why I’m here.”

Kellan waited. When she said nothing, he slowly cocked an eyebrow. “It’s really okay if you go.” Then he glanced back at the door. “I have a lot to think about.”

“Y-You never really gave me your full attention during the game,” Millie whispered. “Even now… I feel like you’re not seeing me. I have something important to say. I just need to find the right words…”

Her statements grated him a second time. He had done everything to make sure she was safe during the game, but he hadn’t given her enough attention? Kellan bit back some choice words. He let go of the door handle, turned on his heel to face her, and then focused his gaze solely on hers.

“What can I do for you?” Kellan asked, slow and almost cold.

Millie shifted her focus to the floor between them. Her skin hung off her chin like a hound’s hung off its mouth. Somehow, her forehead had jowls. Despite all that, her skin flushed a deep red.

“I want to have your child,” she whispered.

At first, Kellan didn’t think he had heard her right. Then he mulled over the statement and realized that yes, she had offered to have his kid. Kellan glanced over his shoulder, inspecting the hallway to see if anyone else was around. This had to be a joke. Perhaps Bitso had a new segment for his news program, and it would involve pranks?

When he returned his attention to Millie, the many layers of her face were still bright red.

Oh my God.

Kellan ran a hand down his own face. “Listen. That’s single handedly the weirdest, creepiest, and yet most flattering, compliment a woman has ever paid me, but—”

“You w-wouldn’t have to do anything,” Millie quickly interjected, the haste of her speech obviously fueled by her embarrassment. “Someone like you, who is so handsome and perfect, wouldn’t ever… touch something like me.” She pulled the cloak over her head further, blocking most of her face. “There are machines that can do it. They would just need a sample. Then I could… The point is, you wouldn’t need to be involved.”

“Okay, well, I don’t know how they do things here in the Nexus, but where I’m from, it’s customary for—”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Millie blurted out, cutting him off a second time. “But the residents of the Nexus don’t usually mingle with outsiders. When they do, mages always breed true, which means your child would have magic, even if, well…” She touched her face.

“That’s not—”

“I asked the Arbiter for permission. He said he would allow it.” Millie clung to her cloak, practically drowning in the black cloth. “I just want to make sure that… just in case you die in the Nexus Games… a small piece of you continues to live on.”

Kellan raked his fingers through his hair, trying to grapple with the awkward situation in his mind before he spoke again. Why did everyone have to bombard him with a million different dramatic problems and requests? Couldn’t he just focus on stopping one team from winning the Nexus Games? Why did he also have to deal with a woman trying to spirit away with one of his children?

Sweet Baby Jesus, only in the Nexus…

Kellan grabbed Millie by the shoulder. She glanced up at him, both shocked and slightly frightened. Kellan didn’t let her go. He just stared into her eyes, hoping she would believe everything he was about to say.

“I’m not going to die.”

Millie opened her mouth to retort, but Kellan tightened his grip.

“No,” he said. “Listen. I’m not going to die. There’s too much riding on this. I’m going to win the Nexus Games, save my dimension, stop the flestiss, and once all that is done, I’m coming back here to get Gunner—and now you, as well. I’ll take you to my Earth, we can fix up your problems, and everything will be all right. Understand?”

“What if—”

“I’m not going to leave a child behind in the Nexus.” Kellan smirked. “Have you seen this place? Not really kid friendly, if you ask me.”

Millie rubbed at her eyes. They grew red at the edges, and her lip quavered. For a long moment, Kellan thought she might cry, but Millie held it all back. She took a breath to compose herself before she touched his hand on her shoulder.

“You’re too kind.”

“Not really. The bar is just reallow.”

Millie smiled a tiny bit. Then she gripped Kellan’s hand tighter.

“I lied,” she whispered. “The Arbiter didn’t give me permission.”

The statement caused Kellan to tense. Her tone sounded so… icy.

She stared at him, her gaze unflinching. “I went to the Arbiter and begged him to tell me if you’d live through the Nexus Games. He is a powerful fate mage, with magics able to see the most likely future… And he said you were going to die in the next game unless you found more gold arcana.”

The news struck Kellan at his core.

Fate magic could see the most probable future?

And he was going to die?

“I wanted to help you,” Millie finally glanced away, her gaze on the floor. “But… the Arbiter said someone you trust will fail you in your time of need.”

“Did he say anything else?” Kellan asked.

Millie shook her head.

“And you wanted to have my kid to make sure something of mine lived on?”

She nodded.

“Well, that’s still a nice compliment,” Kellan muttered as he removed his hand from her shoulder. “But you don’t have to worry about it. I won’t die. I already told you what I’m going to do. I’m going to win the Nexus Games.”

“The Arbiter’s fate magic is powerful,” Millie said. She grabbed his tattered shirt. “You don’t understand. His future sight…”

“He said I’d die if I didn’t get enough gold arcana.”

“Yes…”

“So it’ll be fine. You already told me what I need. I’ll spend my evening looking for gold arcana.”

His statement seemed to resonate with her. Millie slowly released his shirt and took a step back. Even though she hugged her cloak tight around her shoulders, she still offered him a slight smile.

“Do you really think you can do it?”

Kellan nodded once. “I’ve done weirder things.”

He made his declarations, but at his core, Kellan had absolutely no idea how he was going to acquire a bunch of gold arcana before the fourth game. Unlike red arcana, which could be harvested through mass murder, gold arcana required time and trust, to a certain extent. It was much more difficult to amass.

Kellan turned to enter his suite, but Millie shifted closer. He stopped and glanced over one last time.

“If you don’t find enough gold arcana before the fourth game, I’ll find you some,” Millie whispered.

Kellan still didn’t want to take her one gold arcana. He doubted it would be enough. “You don’t have to worry about me. Keep your arcana.”

“You didn’t have to worry about me during the third game,” Millie said, her tone argumentative. “But you did everything in your power to help me regardless. And now… you don’t even want anything for it?”

“I’m fine.”

“Maybe… But I want to help you. Can’t you see that?”

He finally exhaled. “Fine. If you can find a way to help me, by all means—do it.”

Millie tepidly smiled. “Well… There is one way. You see, the Nexus residents have an old tale.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “About a resident who admired an outsider and wanted to be with him. H-He was a powerful mage, and very kind. Like you.”

“Do I want to hear this? I feel like it can’t end well.”

Millie ignored Kellan’s question. “The Arbiter gave the resident a knife. A special knife. A knife that could cut away all their ugliness and leave them young and beautiful—but only for a few days. If the resident could convince the outsider to be with them, the change would become permanent, but if the outsider refused… the resident would become hideous once more.”

Kellan already knew, because of the nature of the Nexus, the story could not end well. He dreaded hearing the conclusion, but Millie was clearly intent on telling it, so he just waited for the sinister punch line.

She continued, “The resident used the knife to cut away all their imperfections and became gorgeous. Then the Nexus resident approached the outsider, but he said that he was already in love with another. No matter how beautiful a person was, it wouldn’t sway him from his lover.”

“Sounds respectable.”

“Heartbroken, the resident returned to the Arbiter. He said… if the resident killed the outsider, the outsider’s blood would keep the resident young and beautiful forever.”

“Let me guess, this story ends in murder,” Kellan quipped. Then he narrowed his eyes at her. “Or are you trying to say everyone would’ve just been happier if the outsider had just cooperated?”

“N-Neither,” Millie mumbled. “The story doesn’t end like that. It’s…” She tightly closed her eyes. “I promise I’ll help you in the Nexus Games. It’s just… I’ll need the knife…”

But she didn’t continue her statement or the story. She just stopped talking.

Kellan wasn’t even sure why she had started telling the story in the first place. His fatigue, and the obstacles of the Nexus Games, weighed heavily on his thoughts. He didn’t have time for metaphorical analogies.

“Thank you,” he said, jolting her out of her thoughts. “For telling me what the Arbiter said about my death. Once I win the games, I’ll return. I promise.”

Millie shook her head. “You’re much too kind to someone like me.”

“The most beautiful thing you can wear is confidence,” Kellan stated, quoting one of his old commanding officers. “Don’t talk about yourself like that—there’s more to value than your looks.”

“You saved my life… and you never despised me. Now you want to lift me up.” Millie smiled genuinely. “Thank you, Alex Kellan. If… If I’m not a coward, I’ll show you the end of that story with the knife. I’ll help you with the games.”

Before he could question her last statement, Millie fled the hallway. She sidestepped him and then ran toward the stairs, never bothering to glance back or even explain herself. Kellan watched her go, baffled.

For some reason, every interaction he had had in last day or two had been the epitome of awkward.

I guess I just attract the type.Kellan snorted to himself and finally entered his suite. He just needed… to figure out what he was going to do about the next game before anything else happened.

—Chapter 35—

—Another Hex Won’t Kill You—

Kellan entered the suite for Team 101 to find a strange sight.

Mavis stood in the middle of the living room with the couch held above her head. It was awkward, because she couldn’t find the right leverage and angle, but she had clearly lifted the piece of furniture and was showing off her ability to do so. It was a three-person couch, and the decorative pillows tumbled to the floor as Mavis turned in a slow circle.

Her eyes went wide when she spotted Kellan. In her shock, she lost her balance with the couch, and she gasped out, whoa, whoa, before dropping it in the center of the room. The seat cushions went everywhere. Mavis cringed, her face slightly pink.

Husker leaned against the wall, his ears perked forward. With a frown, he said, “You should’ve increased your dexterity. That’ll help you keep your balance.”

“Where have you been?” Mavis asked, ignoring Husker and running over to Kellan. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Kellan crossed his arms. “I was in the VIP Lounge just waiting for the games to end.” When Mavis threw her arms around Kellan in a hug, it reminded Kellan of everything he needed to tell them. While returning her embrace, he said, “I found out some important details about our enemies.”

Mavis quickly ended the hug and then lifted a finger. “Wait. I have to show you something first. Xiang and I got more powerful during the last game.” She motioned to the collapsed couch. “Didn’t you see that? I’m actually physically strong. Like a superhero.”

“You grew strong during the last game?”

“No. Look.” Mavis grabbed his hand.

Although Kellan’s Blitzkrieg Analysis always showed him the status of everyone who wasn’t concealed—Mavis included—Kellan had opted to ignore the info whenever he met people he had seen before. Clearly, that was mistake. Mavis had changed.

Drastically.

Name:Mavis Cartwright

Race:Human

Magics:Magma, Metal

Rank: D, D

Armor Rating: 1

Health:9/9

Stats:

Strength—6 [Strong Grip, Cyborg-Enhanced]

Dexterity—3 [Accurate]

Fortitude—5 [Cyborg-Enhanced]

Charisma—2

Manipulation—2

Intelligence—3

Perception—4 [Mystic]

Wisdom—2

Willpower—4 [Tough]

Abilities:

Personal—[Rebuilt]—The mage can develop their physical stats (strength, dexterity, fortitude) for half the arcana cost.

Hex—[A Light That Blazes Twice as Bright]—The mage gains triple the stat increase from all magical means. As punishment, if they don’t increase at least one stat (strength, dexterity, fortitude, charisma, manipulation, intelligence, perception, wisdom) once every seven days (the counter starting after each stat increase), the mage dies.

Kellan jerked his hand out of Mavis’s.

“You took a hex?” he asked.

Mavis furrowed her brow. “Yeah. But did you see my stats? I have superhuman levels of strength.”

“But if you don’t continue increasing your stats, you’re going to die. What if you fail to get arcana or—”

“Xiang pointed out that we’re going to probably finish the Nexus Games within a few weeks,” Mavis interjected. “And if we lose, we’re all dead regardless. But if we win, the hex will be broken. So what does it matter? Don’t you see? This is perfect.”

Kellan clenched his jaw. He didn’t like this. Not because the hex ability was bad—far from it, the ability clearly synergized with Mavis’s personal trait—but because hexes carried with them some sort of chilling taint. They were clearly derived from a twisted source. Kellan didn’t know what source, but he knew it couldn’t be trusted.

Normally, hexes could never be removed. It required the perfect magic of Zenith to end them. How was that not a major red flag? Something about them was off.

“Everyone is doing it,” Mavis said. “You’ve seen the other mages. Even Xiang and Husker have hexes.”

And she wasn’t wrong.

But Kellan didn’t like the sound of what was going on.

“So, you’re going to continue to build your stats?” Kellan asked, keeping his tone neutral.

“That’s the plan. Xiang told me all about how metal magic has cyborg abilities, which add stats. Look, I even have wiring and metal on the inside of my body. That’s how I got a permanent armor rating.”

Mavis pulled up the sleeve of her jacket and then brought her fingernails down on her skin like she was going to cut herself, but Kellan grabbed her wrist.

“I believe you.” He kept his hand on her arm, squeezing harder to get her full attention. “And I’m glad you’re getting the hang of your magic, but I have to tell you about the Flestiss Dominion.”

Husker twitched his ears in Kellan’s direction. Then he turned his head. He wasn’t wearing his usual long coat. Instead, he just had on a pair of cargo pants. His chest, completely covered in fur, seemed muscular and cut. It was difficult to tell—Husker’s red fur was rather uniform. Chains hung from his wrists, and one was around his neck, each just a few feet long. Since the man was nearly nine feet, they seemed tiny in comparison.

“You learned information about the Flestiss Dominion?” he asked.

Kellan nodded, thankful Husker was interested. In an attempt to sum up the situation in only a few sentences, Kellan said, “The Dominion is run by a space whale, and they breed lesser races—such as humans—as slaves in their bee-like society. They’re going to kill all the primordial dragons and enslave every dimension so that the Dominion can control everything.”

No matter how many times Kellan went over the information in his head, it always sounded ludicrous.

“Whales and bees,” Husker mumbled as he scratched his canine snout. “I’ve never heard anyone describe them like that…”

“You already said we have to defeat Team 42,” Mavis said. “I’m with you. We can’t let the Dominion win.”

Husker nodded once. “I agree. I can’t let the Dominion harm my tribes. I’m a warrior of Rarn, after all. If anything were to happen to Rarn, what kind of rennic would I be?”

It was reassuring to know that both Husker and Mavis agreed right away without any more need to convince them further. He wished they had seen everyone on the flestiss-occupied Earth, though. Maybe then they’d be a little more gung ho to defeat Team 42.

“I also need gold arcana,” Kellan said. “The Arbiter thinks I’ll die in the next game unless I have a lot more.”

“How much arcana do you have currently?” Husker asked.

“Fourteen. None of it is gold arcana, though… I’ve been finding nothing but red arcana.”

Husker snorted. “Well, I’m not sure how you’re going to gather a bunch of unheard gold arcana.” He folded his arms over his chest. Then he wrinkled his nose. “Why don’t you spend time in the mana spring, then change into some new clothes, and we’ll search around the palace? Perhaps we can find someone, or something, that can help us for the next game.”

Mavis snapped her fingers. “Yes. I need to rank up. Once I reach C-rank, I can purchase more stat-increasing abilities.”

Although Kellan wanted to tell them that acquiring gold arcana was much more difficult than red arcana, he kept that to himself. Most people didn’t seem to understand the difference, or they just didn’t care. He knew Husker would take any arcana offered, and from the sound of things, Mavis was in the same boat.

But the Arbiter had been specific. Kellan needed gold arcana. At least according to Millie.

“All right, I’ll wash up,” Kellan stated. “Then we’ll head out.”

Husker nodded. “I’ll go get dressed as well.”

“I’ll fix the couch,” Mavis muttered, glancing at the mess in the front room.

The suite’s mana spring was out on the balcony. Kellan exited the glass doors and then stood on a narrow strip of stone, mere inches from the edge of the pink waters. The spring was built into the balcony itself, the edges overlooking the AVU Palace’s garden.

Kellan wasn’t alone. He glanced over and spotted Sen in the water. He wasn’t a teenager, like he had been. Now he appeared to be twelve years old, on the cusp of puberty. His speckly beard was gone, his wiry frame nothing more than the physique of a child. He rested on the edge of the spring, both arms up on the stone, his chin resting on top of them.

Sen barely moved. He just stared out at the garden.

Kellan removed his backpack, rifle, torn jacket, and damaged shirt. He tossed them to the side but opted to keep his pants on. Sen wasn’t naked—the kid wore a pair of pants, though he didn’t have anything else.

After removing his boots, Kellan stepped into the waters. The warm and soothing sensation of the spring put Kellan at ease. His mana had already been restored at the VIP Lounge, but if it hadn’t been, the spring would’ve done that for him.

“I thought you said you would remain a teenager, even if you gave me some fortitude?” Kellan asked as he swam over to Sen’s location.

The mana spring was only four feet deep, but Kellan enjoyed submerging most of his body beneath the rose-colored waters.

“I was still a teenager,” Sen said matter-of-factly. “But… I gave another part of myself to improve Mavis’s fortitude. Now look at me.” He pushed away from the side of the spring and slapped his hand into the water, motioning to his younger body with a frown.

“Why did you do that?”

“Her new hex makes each of my sacrifices all the more impactful,” Sen said with a sigh. Then he returned to the edge of the spring, his shoulders slumped. “It’s the obvious choice to help her. I mean… the only reason we’ve made it this far is because we’re a team that’s actually working together.”

Kellan wanted to make a quip, but he held back. His old Delta Force team would’ve put this team’s “cooperation” to shame. When Kellan had actually been part of a coordinated operation, he had never questioned the competency or loyalties of his teammates. Everything had run smoothly, and when things went south, he knew he could depend on his brothers-in-arms to have his back.

But…

“If it hadn’t been for your shielding, we all would’ve died to Team 42 in the last game,” Kellan said. “Thank you for that.”

Sen’s face grew pink. He poked at the side of the spring. “If you hadn’t physically dragged me through the games, I probably wouldn’t be here.”

He said nothing else.

Kellan dove underwater, rubbed at his hair, and then stood up. The mana spring smelled of roses. Although he had no shampoo or soap, he knew he would smell elegant the moment he got out.

“So you were only a teenager for a day?”

Sen scoffed. “That’s correct.”

“That’s rough. Did you at least take advantage of that one night alone?”

With a roll of his eyes, Sen said, “Of course.”

Kellan chuckled at his own dark joke, but then his thoughts turned to Xiang. She had been the one to convince Mavis to pick up the hex. “Where is our fearless leader, by the way?” he asked, his tone cold. “I need to speak with her about everything.”

“She’s with the Arbiter.”

“Wait.” Kellan positioned himself next to the edge of the spring with Sen. “Why did you and Husker see the Arbiter?”

“He asked about why we took Team 33’s doll,” Sen said. With a frown, he added, “And he also asked me about the puzzle imp. I was afraid he would get angry, because we killed his imp, but the Arbiter seemed… impressed. It was a little confusing.”

Kellan gripped the edge of the spring, trying not to show his anger. “Why didn’t Xiang and Mavis bring our doll back? Did they just let the woman die?”

“Our doll didn’t die,” Sen snapped. “Didn’t you see the post-game analysis? That madman, Bitso, explained that Mavis and Xiang ran out of time. Since our doll didn’t die, we didn’t lose a key, but since we didn’t get it to the safety zone in time, we didn’t get one, either. It’s not the worst outcome, but my honorable sister was understandably upset by this turn of events.”

“She was the reason we didn’t get the key. Xiang has only herself to blame.”

Sen shot Kellan an icy glare. “There were factors outside of her control, thank you very much.”

“It was still her responsibility to get the key to the end goal, wasn’t it?” Kellan just returned his harsh stare with one of his own. “Why did she decide to search around the game arena instead of focusing on winning the game?”

With a dramatic swish of his long hair over his shoulder, Sen turned away. “My sister understands that our opponents are becoming stronger. She’s balancing urgent priorities here. You and Mavis are weak, and must grow stronger quickly, but at the same time, we can’t be open with our ambitions since several teams are actively against us. You wouldn’t understand the many choices she has to make.”

“I think I’m plenty capable,” Kellan stated.

“Then just know that my sister found a Prize Room while they were exploring.” Sen huffed. “She got herself a powerful magical item, and along with Mavis’s hex, we’ve substantially improved our luck for the next game.”

“Do you know what the next game is?”

“Not yet. It hasn’t been announced.”

The conversation between them died. The party music from the AVU Palace wafted up from the garden below. Kellan took the moment to just relax. He leaned against the side of the mana spring, the warmth of the water soaking to his core.

The sun had set, and the night sky grew more confident with each passing minute. Stars appeared across the dark sky by the dozens, but a tint of red kept them from being comforting images.

Sen stared out into nothing. After a few minutes, his shoulders drooped again.

“Are you upset about being younger?” Kellan asked in a quiet voice.

“Of course,” Sen snapped, his words increasing in volume. “Do you think I enjoy being made to look like an infant? My very manhood is being called into question.”

Kellan mulled over Sen’s personal ability and training. He remembered everything he could about the mage, and in an attempt to lighten the mood, he asked, “So you studied at a place called Norticum?”

“Norticum University,” Sen added. “And yes. I did. It’s very prestigious. Only mages who display exceptional talents are allowed to attend.” He held his head a little higher as he made all his statements.

“Did Xiang study there as well?”

“Well, no.” Sen gripped his hands together. “She wasn’t allowed.”

“Why’s that? You’re siblings, right? And I thought you said she was talented.”

“She’s very talented.” Sen glared at the edge of the mana spring. “But it was a matter of birth. My mother got me into the university. We both have the same father—and he’s human—but my mother is a lindalphon and Xiang’s isn’t, so she wasn’t allowed into Norticum University.”

“Did you just say your mother is a dolphin?” Kellan asked.

Sen stood straight, his frown deep, his shoulders bunched at the base of his neck. “How dare you. She isn’t a dolphin, you buffoon! She is a lindalphon! It’s clearly a different word. Entirely different. Wholly different.”

“Yeah, calm down.” Kellan smirked as he gently splashed the kid with water. “So you got into the fancy school because of pedigree and Xiang couldn’t because of bloodlines or something.”

With his frown still in place, Sen rested on the edge of the mana spring. “Yes. Or something. So eloquently put.” With a huff, he added, “Since I’m human, I wasn’t entirely accepted, but exceptions were made. Xiang was shunned from lindalphon society, though. Which is why she sought human companionship. That was how she met Brenner Hawke, actually. You see, her mother is a travel mage, and if you’re high enough rank, you can shift through dimensions—but only nearby ones.”

Kellan held his breath and focused all his attention on the story. He knew next to nothing about Xiang. Anything at this point would give him some insight into her motives and thought patterns.

“Xiang’s mother knew about the Nexus Games, and other dimensions that were both technologically and magically powerful.” Sen sighed. “She showed Xiang a dimension where humans were the only race… To show Xiang that being human in a lindalphon society didn’t mean she was lesser.”

“What happened? Xiang wanted to live there?”

Sen nodded once. After a short sigh, he said, “And it was that dimension where she met Brenner Hawke. He was so impressive—” Sen made air quotes as he said the words, “—and he was a decorated military mage, and Xiang became fascinated. You see, in most lindalphon societies, they claim humans are weak and dysfunctional. Brenner was the exact opposite. Xiang liked that.”

He was a decorated military officer?

Kellan frowned. Brenner’s title was Traitor to Humanity because he had betrayed his Earth to the Flestiss Dominion. He was the essence of a delta-bravo. Perhaps worse. But if Xiang hadn’t known many competent humans before meeting him…

“Did you like Brenner?” Kellan asked, hoping Sen would continue the tale.

Sen rolled his eyes. “I found him to be insufferable. Xiang spoke of him day and night and day and night, until…” He closed his eyes. “Well…” He didn’t finish his statement. Then Sen turned to Kellan, his expression more melancholy than before. “We shouldn’t be discussing this. Xiang told me not to say anything.”

“She likes to remain a mystery.” Kellan cracked his knuckles. “Does she know about the Flestiss Dominion? She must, since she spoke about it with familiarity.”

But Sen didn’t answer.

Obviously, Brenner knew about the Dominion. He was serving them—actively helping the Dominion enslave humanity and bring about the death of the Arbiter. Just thinking about it got Kellan angry all over again. And apparently Xiang was supposed to have been on Brenner’s team for the Nexus Games. Something about the situation bothered Kellan.

Motivated to win the games all over again, Kellan swam to the other side of the narrow spring and climbed out. Sen whirled around, practically splashing water as he did so.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I need to gather some gold arcana before the next event.”