Scyrexianori twitched those big wings and took a step back from the black windows, then sat back on that lonely, solitary seat in the middle of the blasting-room. Elbows perched on knees, and those eyes closed again.


    “What’s going on?” Latheroux demanded, “Scyrexianori! What’s happened!?”


    If the entity was going to answer at all, it didn’t matter; Kourin grabbed his arm and pulled him back, “Someone’s coming.” She warned quietly, incandescent eyes looking over to where she’d heard the main security-door open, “Back up against the wall.”


    “I think we’re done here.” Latheroux said gruffly, and turned towards her as she continued her rearward shuffle. Hands went to her shoulders, and he leaned down to look at her squarely, “Favors for favors. That’s what it said. If it wants Gabriel, then we’ll figure something out to make that happen, in exchange for what we want.”


    Kourin was stunned, leaning around him slightly to check if anyone was coming into the staging area with them, then looked back up at that masked face, “You would actually sacrifice him for this…? What can that thing do for us that nothing and no one else could, after all this time that we’ve been trying?”


    Latheroux nodded, “Scyrexianori says Gabriel has a power far greater than anything he can conceive of. It wants him specifically so it can use that power to open a gate and go home. It…it might be strong enough to achieve our end-game, and if it needs Gabriel alive to do it – and Gabriel comes out the other end no worse for wear – then all the better. If that’s the case, then all this political quibbling here in Kitez won’t be necessary anymore, and we can leave it to rot.”


    Footsteps could be felt in the make-shift floor of that wooden stage, and Kourin made a face of concern, daring not speak another word, lest they both be heard.


    Latheroux wasn’t ready to be so careful yet though, and whispered his final words directly into her ear, “Find a way to make a deal with it. Trade it freedom for its assistance.”


    And he was gone, dissolved into the nanotech dust he’d come from. The sight of it heading back towards the containment-pod was like a grey fog blowing across the floor, straight past the legs of – and completely unnoticed by - the thin man as he came up to the glass.


    Kourin pressed her back into the corner of that little space, all-but holding her breath to keep from making a sound, Damnit…leaving me here like this… She turned her sights towards Scyrexianori again, and listened to the thin man’s futile attempts to get it to talk.


    “Who were you speaking to just now? We saw your mouth moving on the live-feed.”


    No answer.


    “Scyrexianori.” The man said more firmly, “Respond.”


    Still nothing.


    “Tight-lipped, eh? …I knew we should have installed microphones inside this thing…” The man grumbled, and went over to the intercom button, “Such hastily-built confinement, and all we can do is document sessions from out here…” He held out a finger over a nearby recording device, and hesitated, then pulled the hand back to press it lightly around his chin, “Maybe I should call Kourin back down here. She got a rise out of it…”


    Kourin tiptoed along the wall and made her escape – glancing back briefly with annoyance as her name was dropped - and headed back towards the box she’d brought. She quickly sought for something to grab off the nearby shelves, put it into the box beside the re-hidden containment-pod, and dropped her cloaking-effect. Hidden in the shadow of that space, and without any cameras pointing in that direction, she simply lifted the box up again and made her way towards the exit, no-one-the-wiser for what she’d done.


    .


    Rylen sat nearly motionless behind his desk, orange eyes staring daggers into some hapless part of the floor ahead of him, past the fingers he’d laced together in front of his face. When he saw the alert on his overlay that Xanarken was incoming, he simply lifted the direction his eyes gazed, and waited for the man’s mantle to form.


    A few seconds later, he did, and Xanarken walked closer as his body took shape, “Have things finally calmed down?”


    “Where have you been?”


    Xanarken paused, and quirked his head slightly, “I went to check on your stasis-pod, back in Agartha. I’m surprised you didn’t.”


    Rylen sat back and averted his eyes, “…I didn’t want to hear it from Etienne right now.”


    “Fair, but-“


    “Is my body okay?”


    The Fourth breathed a sigh, “It’s fine. Etienne says that, whatever happened when the Magi struck your mantle, it created a kind of feedback that made your real self have a seizure. Not a big one, and it doesn’t appear to have left any lasting damage, but…you might have a headache for a minute.”


    The First nodded, “…Yeah.”


    Xanarken‘s brow furrowed, and stepped around the desk. One hand went to his brother’s shoulder, the other held to the front of the man’s desk, “Sorry I interrupted you earlier, when you were trying to say what it did. We have the luxury of time, now. So…please, tell me.”


    Rylen hesitated, and shook his head, “…It reached through my chest, and felt as though it had taken-hold of my heart, squeezing until my mantle and mind broke.” He began cautiously, his voice giving away the very real fact that he – the Eidolon of two different Wings – was rattled, “…I needed you, and you left me.” He shrugged his shoulder out from under the Fourth’s palm.


    Purple eyes lifted, and Xanarken stood upright again, “There was nothing I could do here. I left Gabriel behind, too, lest you forget. I thought the most useful thing I could do was make sure you could continue to function. This is your operation, your fortress, your Fafnir…Gabe and I are just here as guests.”


    “…Even so…”


    “I’m sorry.” The Fourth said again, “You know that everything I do is in service to you and this Council. I would never just leave you hanging like that.”


    “…Fine…” Rylen finally relented, and his posture relaxed a little, “You should know that Gabriel and the Myrmidon all woke up, if you didn’t already.”


    “I didn’t. Are they all okay?”


    “That depends on the definition you’re using.” The First answered vaguely, “…Since they all did so screaming.”


    .


    Xanarken manifested on the officers’ deck, outside the room that Furion had assigned to the mediator after their little chat. He reached a hand towards the door-buzzer button on the side-panel, and took a step back to wait. Even an Eidolon couldn’t just appear in someone’s private chambers. For half a moment, he started to wonder if Gabriel was even there, and took another step back to look around – as if that would even do anything. Soon, however, the panel shifted aside, and a rather ragged-looking blonde – with the entirety of a large downy blanket wrapped around him - stood there in the middle of it.


    “Gabe… Rylen told me you were up.”


    The red eye twitched slightly, but Gabriel took a step back and wordlessly gestured for the Eidolon to come in. The door hissed as it closed again, and Gabriel stepped over to the ‘nest’ he’d made for himself on the corner-couch.


    “He…also told me that it wasn’t a pleasant awakening.” Xanarken added, trying to get the man to say something in answer.


    Gabriel sat back, and pulled his bare feet up onto the edge of the rectangular table, arms wrapped around his knees with the blanket around all of it, “…I’ve…never experiences that kind of darkness before…” He said quietly, and he lifted his right hand again briefly to see that it was still trembling, “Endless, and all-consuming…”


    Xanarken stepped around the arm-rest and sat beside his mediator, an arm over those shoulders, “Gabe…”


    “There was something in that place…” He continued dubiously, “It was…pawing at my mind, like it was trying to reach inside me… I thought it would pull me apart, as though my soul was only held together by threads, sewn around the outside.”Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    “I looked over some of the footage before I came down,” The Eidolon said, and rubbed his hand back and forth in an effort to soothe, “It came out of the warp core…and it…said your name.”


    “Great…”


    “It had a full-on conversation with itself, but to be honest, the way it paused and then continued, it’s like it was somehow talking to someone. One thing that’s for certain, though…is that the both of them were speaking in tandem. It spoke the exact same words at the exact same pace as its twin, even though they had split-up and were quite a distance away from one another.”


    “That can only mean there’s a third one somewhere.” Gabriel surmised, “Or a fourth, or…who knows how many others. One of them was talking to someone.”


    “That was my thought as well.”


    There was a tense silence as they both thought of the same name, and Gabriel looked down at his covered knees, “Ianori.”


    “…Yeah, probably.”


    “So, he’s not dead. Or, at least…not disposed of. Do you think it’s them? Talking to him, somewhere?”


    “Magistrate Regulus was the last one to see Sir Ianori. In all likelihood, if anyone knows that man’s fate, it’s him.” Xanarken answered, and pulled his hand back to rest his elbows over his knees, fingertips together as he looked over his shoulder, “When Rylen and I talked about sending Ren into the Connington Fragment…one thing she was adamant about doing was asking the Magistrate what he’d done with her friend. I don’t think she ever got to.”


    “No…” Gabriel shook his head, and buried his face against the blankets, “…I screwed that up for her, too…”


    Xanarken’s brow furrowed, “…It is what it is.”


    “I haven’t been entirely forthcoming about what happened in there.”


    “I know.” The Eidolon answered, “I’m the one who fried the archive. Rylen’s been convinced that it was your affliction that caused the errors.”


    Gabriel was stunned, and lifted his head again, “…Why didn’t you call me on it?”


    “I guess I was curious about why you’d decided to omit it.” He answered, “A Kitezan civilian, using a mantle like one of ours… Even I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. Given the effort it takes for us to use them, I can’t even fathom how a regular guy was able to do it.”


    Bicolored eyes drifted, looking ahead at nothing in particular, “…Nanotech is only supposed to be useful for visual augments, data transfers, and communications. If that Latheroux guy was even capable of knowing where the Magistrate and Aamin were going to be to start the rumor that brought us there…he’s somehow got that mantle inside Kitez, close to the court.”


    “Or he’s got friends that are. You were all well-within the Sargonian side of the place. He could well have just been using the World Cloud.”


    “We both know that’s not true.”


    “Which part?”


    “About him using the World Cloud to make his mantle.” Gabriel explained, “You would’ve been able to figure who it was in that case.”


    Xanarken huffed a laugh, “Not so.”


    “How come?”


    “Because tracking someone by their use of the World Cloud implies that the person using it is physically present doing so.” The Fourth answered, “Like when Rylen tracked Ren down, to summon her to the Aegis for that mission. She had used the Cloud to turn her hair funny colors. The Eidolon can’t be tracked that way…and neither can he.”


    “But you could at least see that someone was using it there besides us, right…?”


    “…No.”


    “Then he’s got his own supply somehow, too.” Gabriel sighed, “It just gets better and better… The Council is the only purveyor of nanotech on Hadira. If he’s got a private source, he’s somehow gotten it from us. The only Wings that have access to portable pods are the First and Sixth, like…when…”


    “Like when what?”


    “…Seth. He had three pods when we found him. He only brought one back, and gave its entire supply to Ren for her armor.” He answered, “…Maybe it all stemmed from that? Latheroux or his proxies found the pods before the Magistrate could seize them?”


    Xanarken pressed his folded hands to his chin and nose, “…Doesn’t bode well either way. Half the reason we get away with using mantles at all is because of the protocols we have not to abuse them, the least of which being that we only manifest spontaneously in public places. Imagine him being able to appear anywhere, at any time…”


    “I’ve been trying not to.”


    “I have to think about this.” Xanarken shook his head, and pushed up to stand again, “Keep it to yourself until further notice.”


    “…Yeah. I know.”


    “And be sure to thank the Captain at some point for fixing up your situation. If he hadn’t mentioned it when he brought Rylen and I over, you’d still be in the other room.”


    Gabriel’s eyes flinched at the mention, and his right hand – bruised from where he’d walloped the man – hurt all over again. He rubbed those knuckles secretly beneath the thick folds of the blanket, “Only if you give Rylen shit on my behalf for putting me down there.”


    “Oh, I think I know just the way.”


    .


    “…Excuse you?” Rylen gawked awkwardly, “You’re going to have to say that again, cuz I’m pretty sure it’s way too early for jokes.”


    “You heard me.” Xanarken crossed his arms, looking over the railing of the Fibonacci’s hangar as the first of several transport-skiffs started to arrive. The image of the SSCF Sterling Rose loomed in the background, “I think it would be a good idea, after what happened.”


    “You’re nuts. You’re certifiably nuts.” Rylen countered, “Did Gabriel set you up for this? To ingratiate himself to me somehow as a person of higher importance than he is?”


    Xanarken shrugged, “It wasn’t his idea, but it did come out of a conversation we had last night about how you’d meddled with his room assignment aboard the Aegis.”


    The dark Eidolon grumbled slightly, “…He deserved it.”


    “Sending him with Ren on that mission was my idea though, and you’d never think to put me into a room like that.”


    Rylen gawked over his shoulder, “Of course not, I’d never think of putting you into any room. You don’t use rooms.”


    “Beside the point. You’d never disrespect a fellow Eidolon like that.”


    “He can’t be an Eidolon. I forbid it.”


    “Not immediately, but…” Xanarken corrected, “…Just, a backup to one, in case what happened to you yesterday isn’t a one-time thing.” He turned side-face to the First and grabbed the railing with both hands, then gestured to the transport-skiff as it unloaded the first of two very important bits of cargo, “Given you’re so adamant about bringing them back with us, when we don’t even know if they’re definitely finished. We all saw the footage of Ianori rising from the dead. They could be no different, given the time to recover.”


    Rylen gestured both hands at the sight, “They’re super-dead, Xanarken! Ren shot right back to the top of the list of potential next-Captains with her moves yesterday!” A third recycled stasis pod from the colony ship was deboarded from the skiff, containing the mummified body of the last Warp Magi. Rylen pinched the bridge of his nose, “I can’t just leave the bodies there anyway. It’s protocol.”


    “Protocol be damned, you don’t know what they became, or what they’re capable of. If they do recover from the would-be-fatal injuries Ren dealt them, there’s no telling what damage they could do. Aren’t you the least bit worried about how that thing literally reached into your soul and made you flinch?”


    The First grumbled, “Of course I’m worried. I didn’t sleep because of it.”


    “Then having contingencies in place ought to have been foremost on your mind.” Xanarken explained, “Imagine if the Captain hadn’t leapt-in right away. Imagine 5-10 more seconds of whatever it was doing to you… You could’ve had a grand mal, been put into a coma, or even killed. Then we’d have three Wings without an Eidolon to lead them.”


    “And your answer is to formalize a successor-role.” Rylen scoffed, “I can’t even process the idea. It’s absolutely rat-fucking insane.”


    “…Language?”


    The First massaged his fingers against his brow in frustration, then swatted his brother beside him with the left, “The definition of Eidolon is Ghost. We are Eidolon because we are unmovable, impervious…immortal. The unfathomable suggestion that a mere man such as Gabriel Lugios can become one of us just blows my mind.”


    “He’s practically learned everything there is about how to lead the Fourth if something ever happened to me.” Xanarken pointed out, “Grew up following in my foot-steps, watching everything I’ve said and done.”


    “And yet no one trusts him half as much as they trust you.”


    “That’s because he’s not officially my successor; no one has to think of him as anything other than a mediator with a fancy title. If nothing ever happens that demands my stepping down, then he grows old and dies like everyone else, and I persevere as the Fourth in perpetuity.” He said simply, “There’s nothing wrong with being cautious. You should consider finding someone to take under your wing, like I did.”


    “I’m not interested in mentoring an heir that won’t ever be needed.” The First refuted. There was a long pause then, as the two of them watched the stasis-pods containing the Warp Magi disappear beneath them, through a corridor on the lower floor. Looking down on top of them from that vantage, and seeing those twisted faces through the glass, made Rylen shake his head, “We’ve become akin to gods on this world, with this unexpected longevity. The tragedy that sowed the soil of the Luminary Council… The blood that was spilled… The secrets we’ve kept. …And those who don’t think of us as gods don’t even believe we’re real anymore; that we’re nothing more than artificial intelligences, loosely based on the men and women we used to be. Or that we uploaded our consciousnesses somehow, into a massive computer, and that the algorithms of our lived histories guide these mantles like puppets into the future, long after our physical deaths.”


    “That’s only what people think outside the Council. Namely…in Kitez.”


    “It’s still a popular sentiment in Sargon, too.”


    “That’s because-“


    “I know, I know…you don’t have to keep reminding me that they were sister-nations.” Rylen grumbled, “…Honestly, it’s so tiresome that these places continue to hold themselves up with such grandiose delusions of self-importance.”


    “Every nation back on Earth started out exactly the same way. Why do you hold it against these colonies for doing the same thing?”


    “Hmph. I really am no different than old King George.” Rylen scoffed at himself, “My colony across the sea, whose independence I refuse to recognize because it seems like such a childish idea. They don’t know what they’re doing without me, I tell myself.”


    “You could always just…you know, let them grow up like you would with a child. It’s no fault of theirs that we stumbled into immortality. If not for us, these places really would be individual countries.”


    “And they’d probably have gone to war and destroyed one another by now, just like the Earth we left behind.” Rylen turned his gaze towards his brother, “Do you think about it, ever? What might be left after the better part of four centuries?”


    “…No. There’s no point. We’re never going to know.”


    “Well, I do.” The First puffed, “We and ours lived in our gleaming cities on a hill… Privileged, sheltered, pampered…while most of the rest of that world suffered in a mire of desolation that we made.”


    “You’re far too contented to heap the guilt of the entire human race upon your shoulders, brother.” Xanarken shook his head, “First the Earth, and on to Hadira. When will you finally be satisfied?”


    “When the Hadiran Accord is complete, and all of our wayward children are back with the family. I’m tired of waiting for Kitez to see things my way.” He answered, and looked on grimly, that long silver hair waving in the winds of the open hangar, “But…I can feel it in my bones, Xanarken… Things are going to happen soon…and it’ll give me exactly what I want.”