Bellimha, The Nameless walked through the outpost’s mess hall. Bodies twitched and jerked where they fell.


    He stepped over the form of a laborer he planned to interview for promotion the next day. She had shown a solid grasp of team dynamics and would be better used in management.


    Bellimha rarely remembered the names of mortals. The information had no meaning. And he could see such things in the minds of those around him.


    A distortion in space caught his attention. He looked in a direction that did not exist and saw a spidery creature looming over the fallen alma.


    The Nameless bent space and stepped out of phase. The tables holding half eaten meals disappeared to his mortal senses. Not that his mortal senses mattered.


    The yellow creature lurking out of phase had an ovoid trunk held aloft by eight arms far longer than its small central body. W-shaped pupils inspected Bellimha from its evenly spaced eyes.


    “I see you did not bother to match local species.” He sighed. This was going to be tedious.


    “I was in Sinnard before all this. It wasn’t worth changing.” Nala’s voice emerged from the frilled nostrils above their eyes. It was closer to the notes of a flute than alma speech.


    “Fine. Why are you here?” Bellimha did not care what they did. But there was a bare minimum of courtesy that the younger god was owed.


    “One of my blessings was destroyed a few days back. I’ve been watching sense.” The Nameless had not noticed Nala until now. But they were distracted and not actively interested in who might be loitering in normally unused dimensions.


    “Destroyed? What was it?” The kid could mean a wide range of things by blessing. The term was colloquial. It roughly meant something a god gave a mortal or younger god.


    “I gave a worshiper named Sar? the ability to heal without components. It was a minor soul modification.” Bellimha stroked his chin.


    They assumed Sar? was the name of the acolyte that worked as outpost C5’s healer for the last four years. It sounded vaguely right.


    “It was linked back to you, giving feedback of some kind?” He had a suspicion.


    “I received basic information about her physical condition, memories, thoughts and psyche.” Bellimha would not call that a minor soul modification. Not that he was one to talk.


    “You haven’t looked at them directly, have you?” It was baffling to think Nala had traveled here only to stay outside standard space.


    The Nameless could easily have inspected the souls of everyone within a dozen miles while out of phase. But he had at least fifty millennia on Nala.


    “I’ve been watching the undead outbreak from here. I can scry easily enough.” And that confirmed they did not look directly. Or even with a worthwhile analysis spell.


    “If you had gone over or used soul inspection, you would know they aren’t undead. Or any animus type I’ve seen.” Bellimha wrapped Nala in spellweaving and shifted them both back to the mess hall. He ignored their brief attempt to resist the forceful teleportation.


    They settled to the ground. Each of their four fingered hands found purchase on the floor, a table or a bench.


    “Please don’t translocate me without permission. It is almost as unpleasant as the name thing.” The Nameless ignored the younger god’s whining.


    “Your blessing disappeared because your acolyte no longer has a soul.” Nala twisted their nostrils in confusion. Then they noticed.


    “They don’t have souls…” They trailed off.


    Both gods could see the soul as easily as the body. And it was obvious that the seemingly still living bodies had none.


    “Is it a shroud?” Nala sounded uncertain. An emotion adjacent to fear tinged their voice. The discomfort felt when seeing something that was fundamentally wrong.


    “It would be one powerful enough to completely hide from me. Obscuring animus structures entirely is much harder than disguising them as different structures. And I’ve had months to see through it.” He crouched and pulled up a sleeve on the woman by his feet.


    “This has been happening for months?” The gray patch on her hand continued past the wrist. Similar spots leeched the color from small areas on most of the visible alma.


    “I thought so.” He stood and looked back to Nala.


    “A man arrived one day. A whole group arrived with him, but they didn’t matter. This man had no mind. And one day he had no soul either.” The Nameless remembered Rekon.


    He only forgot the names of those who were neither peers or threats. The shiver that passed through his soul when looking at that empty thing told him the alma shaped creature was at least one of those.


    “I made arrangements within my position in the Rojin Kingdom. Otherwise I adhered to the first law of The Path.” Nala’s nostrils twitched again.


    “What is that?” Bellimha scoffed at the youth’s na?veté.


    “Guide your younger, for they need it most. Fear your elder, for they may do the same.” The Nameless recited the proverb far older than himself. Nala shivered.


    “That is grim.” Bellimha shrugged.


    “That is life. All you can do is follow your own whims and weather the whims of those older and stronger than you.” He ignored Nala’s obvious discomfort at his words.


    “You think he was an elder god?” Nala changed the subject.


    “I hope he was an elder. That is the only explanation for a shroud so advanced it appears like complete absence to us.” Bellimha began walking a circle around the room.


    “As opposed to an ancient?” Nala watched him inspect the delirious alma.


    “No, ancient is just a way of saying an elder so old that they don’t bother with any of us anymore. They are still just old and powerful. Still part of our world.” The gray was spreading at different rates on different alma. But all of them were turning.


    “Do you know what a Traveler is?” He stopped by a shorter than average man who was entirely gray now.


    “Not beyond the literal meaning. But I assume you mean something else.” The gray alma’s face glistened with what looked like sweat. Bellimha knew better.


    “I’ve never seen one. Not knowingly. They might not exist.” He wove an illusion around Nala and himself.


    It was not as thurrow as standing adjacent to the space. But it would hide them from anyone who became unexpectedly lucid.


    “And what are they?” Nala did not bother to complain about the disguise.


    “I’m not even sure the elders know. An ancient once told me the Travelers are things that come from outside our world. Bringing some of the rules from wherever they come from with them. Rules that let them go beyond what our world allows.” The Nameless did not bother to explain how he ended up speaking with an ancient.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    “They claimed to have talked with a Traveler. But that is a second-hand story from someone I can only describe as insane.” Bellimha remembered the chaotic prison realm he spent centuries surviving in. All because he stole an item the mad ancient wanted another thief to find first.


    “Do you really think that is what these are? Or whoever made them.” The Nameless looked down at the empty people at his feet.


    “I have no idea. But they are more sophisticated than anything Evolution made during the war. Or ever. That or they really aren’t undead.” He nudged an arm. His boot came away sticky.


    “Was the Ginger girl involved? She infected everyone here.” Bellimha considered the question.


    “I’m not sure. All the previous conversions were from these.” He stretched out his hand palm up.


    Space fractured and reformed to reveal a gray serpent floating in a glass sphere. It immediately started thrashing impotently.


    “You doubtless saw these connect to people.” The skin of the creature clearly matched that of his unconscious employees.


    “Ginger somehow created a potent soul attack from one. Or rather one of the eggs these things hatch from.” The arcane crafter was the only staff member Bellimha knew by name.


    He had millennia of practice spotting those who would eventually step onto The Path. She would be a peer or die horribly, whichever came first.


    “So the eggs do hatch into those things.” The Nameless resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Nala likely lacked direct confirmation of where the symbiotic creatures came from. But there was so much circumstantial evidence that it made no difference.


    “Yes, the man I told you about left a chamber full of them under his tent. I waited for the rest to hatch before ordering an outhouse constructed on the spot.” There was a moment of silence.


    “You did this on purpose…” Nala sounded baffled and increasingly angry.


    “I performed an experiment that left me plausible deniability. If an elder is propagating a new species, my curiosity will have little effect on the outcome.” The sphere vanished with a silenced crack of collapsing air.


    “The soul attack broke my shroud and shattered every mortal soul on site.” Bellimha noticed one of the prone figures stirring to consciousness.


    She was the furthest along. Her skin already turned gelatinous and anatomy within shifting visibly.


    “Whe…” The unformed word was cut off as she choked on the shed material in her own throat. She curled into a fetal ball and trembled. The sensory feedback of transfiguration could be overwhelming to those unfamiliar.


    “Was it a godkiller spell?” Nala sounded worried. Which was amusing more than anything.


    “All soul attacks are godkillers. It’s a question of how resilient the god is. But more accurately no. My shroud was as fragile as the alma it mimicked. Even a demigod would barely notice what she did.” There were numerous methods for a mortal mage to damage souls.


    A soul attack became a godkiller when it was potent enough to kill a god. A splinter in the finger and a lance through the chest were the same thing. The only difference was scale.


    “I’m more worried about the fact it shattered all their souls. Yet they are turning.” A handful of other employees were beginning to wake. The responses to awakening mid-transformation were similar.


    “There are species with innate shrouds. It is theoretically possible to make one that could fool us. If terrifying in implications.” Nala whistled in realization.


    “The elder would have needed to fake their souls shattering.” Bellimha sighed.


    “It’s possible. But that way lies global doubt.” The Nameless turned away from the former alma moaning in distress.


    He started back to his office. Nala followed. Their legs compressed as they entered the hallway. Hands pressed against the floor, walls and ceiling equally to suspend their body in the center of the corridor.


    Nala broke the silence after a few minutes. “Ginger must have been familiar with these creatures. Otherwise she wouldn’t know how to do this.” Bellimha considered it.


    “I couldn’t find evidence, but maybe. She was hiding it from me if so.” That would mean she obscured her true thoughts and memories from him.


    He had seen the chaotic brilliance of her mind many times. It felt more plausible that the red haired alma had devised a viable area of effect soul weapon from an unknown species in a few days of study. The alternative was mental defenses on the level of a god.


    “I’m more curious if she knew this would be the outcome.” He stepped around a slimy gray staff member who was cautiously standing.


    Their altered build was apparent under the film of goo. And he spotted the tail lifting their ill fitting tunic.


    “You think she was trying to kill them?” Bellimha waved a dismissive hand.


    “It is most likely. I had no chance to read her intentions or knowledge before she fled. I don’t know how she would test the results before using the device.” That was the rational conclusion. But the Nameless was not as certain as he presented.


    “Unless she was working with the architect of this whole thing. Or is that architect.” Bellimha did not respond.


    The door to his office came into view. He would simply open it. But the transfigured staff member that nervously ducked around the corner stopped him.


    They moved with a lightness that was not natural for alma. Yet a sense of agitation came through in their motions.


    Black eyes glanced around the hallway. They then started stripping with some urgency.


    They slid to the floor with their back propped against the wall. Legs pulled apart and the egg soon rolled onto the floor.


    Bellimha sighed when the second egg joined it. He did not care how this species went about performing its bodily functions. But there was no telling how long this would take.


    The Nameless could have put an illusion over the door to hide its opening. He simply did not feel like it.


    His body slid into phase and he stepped through the wall. He then returned to standard space in his office. Nala followed a moment later.


    “Are you letting the alma deal with this themselves? We could erase this place and the ones that escaped.” Nala suggested.


    “And why would we do that?” The proposal made Bellimha skeptical that the junior god had been paying attention. They certainly had not thought through the implications if they had.


    “To maintain peace and order? Let the alma develop freely and flourish under our guidance?” Bellimha dropped behind their desk as Nala spouted nonsense.


    “I think you are acting under a misconception.” He surveyed the undisturbed workspace.


    “I am still free because I did not side with Evolution or Preservation. I didn’t side with Evolution because Sheth was an idealistic demagogue with more passion than plans. That does not mean I agree with Preservation or their ideals of non-interference that always involve lots of interference.” Bellimha conjured a molecular replica of the enzyme residue. He spread it on the floor and several strategic surfaces.


    “And will you stop me?” Nala eyed the blatantly purposeful false evidence.


    “Yes, I will.” He did not bother to make the threat specific. It did not have to be.


    He would likely drop them somewhere in the void of space. Far enough that they would take a few decades to get back. Or just erase their memories of this entire event.


    “Than what will you do?” The Nameless stood and walked over to a large smear of slime on the floor.


    “I’m going to do my job as a loyal servant of the crown.” His flesh flowed and reformed. “And ensure the kingdom handles this with grace and pragmatism.” They resolved into an appropriately modified version of their alma guise.


    The expected sludge coated their facsimile. They stripped off their uniform and dumped it on the floor.


    A few eggs teleported in and some arcane fudging of the evidence left a clear story for how they got there. Bellimha continued to the door and pushed it open.


    The startled employee yelped and tried to stand. They immediately realized the issue with that plan.


    “Name and position.” The Nameless ordered without giving them time to finish.


    “Uh… Tosk, assistant clerk.” The last egg crowned and joined those already on the flagstones. Tosk clambered to their feet.


    “I’m your site manager, in case that wasn’t clear. Gather everyone in the practice yard and send any department heads to my office.” It took a moment for the administrative underling to process the task.


    “Yes, manager.” Tosk ran off to relay the instructions. That left Bellimha with only a few significant problems to overcome.


    These creatures seemed immune to all mind magic. The Nameless would have to remember and track their names and other information they normally plucked from the mind of others.


    It was also a matter of time before someone realized they did not know the site managers name. Pointing it out would reveal that no one did.


    That could be solved by implanting the right memories in certain royal officials. It would require assuming greater status and abilities in the kingdom’s executive branch. But that could work for them.


    Bellimha noticed a flicker of something right before Tosk rounded the corner. They still had no soul. Yet the Nameless swore they sensed a presence within the clerk.


    It was gone before they could focus on it. A memory of a sensation neither physical or arcane left behind. They would need to address that. Whatever it was.