Behind the heavy oak doors of their sleeping quarters, the hectic chaos of the Bastion vanished in a single instant. The room was shrouded in deep, flickering shadows, illuminated only by the warm amber glow of a magical torch mounted on the stone wall. With a heavy sigh, Silarias collapsed onto the edge of the massive bed, his legs giving out beneath him. The mattress groaned under his weight. He stared blankly down at his hands, where faint golden sparks from his Bansaday form still danced across his knuckles like thin threads of light before finally dying out. Nyx strolled over with slow, deliberate steps, tossed her heavy, dust-covered mantle onto a wooden chair, and sat down right beside him. Their shoulders brushed together.
"Nyx..." Silarias began, his voice raw and muffled by the quiet of the room. He didn't look up, but he clenched his fingers together so tight that his skin turned pale. "I meant what I said back in that stone corridor. My chest squeezed so tight from pure, blind terror when that cathedral was coming down. That infinite, pitch-black void you were about to vanish into... I couldn't catch my breath. The thought of being too late, the thought that Nicola's explosion wouldn't slice the structure open in time..."
Nyx turned her hand over and laced her fingers firmly through his, her grip unshakeable. "Look at me, Sil. We're breathing. The walls around us are stone, not ink. We're both right here. One team, one task. A collapsing domain doesn't break that."
Silarias gave a slow nod, but the deep furrow in his brow refused to smooth out. His pupils darted around restlessly, mirroring the flickering torchlight. "I just can't shake it off. That melody... those pure, whistled notes hung so perfectly in the air. And those flashes of that woman, of mom. Why only now? What kind of powers did she have that forced my own brain to lock all of this away for years?" Suddenly, his whole body snapped rigid. His back shot straight up, his eyes widening to the size of saucers. He slammed his fist into his open palm so hard the crack echoed off the stone. "Hold on a minute... Vespera! Juro and Vespera were introduced together! She was there from the absolute beginning when I was just a tiny baby. She has to have the answers."
He whipped his face toward Nyx, his expression dead serious and intense. "Nyx, would you mind if I meditate right now? I need to go into the deep end, immediately."
Nyx sat completely frozen for a second. Her mouth popped open a sliver, her right eyebrow shooting up so high her whole face scrunched up. She let her shoulders drop limp, releasing a dry, theatrical sigh. "Uh, yeah, sure?! Meditate? You?" She leaned mockingly back on her elbows and gestured toward the floor. "Be my guest, big landlord. Show us how an aggressive wrecking ball turns into a peaceful sitter. I'm not stopping you."
Silarias ignored the sarcasm. He shifted his weight, crossed his massive legs, and shut his eyes. Pressing his lips into a tight line, he tried to force his breathing into a slow, steady rhythm. But it didn't work for shit. Underneath his closed eyelids, images of the Dragonian Guard and the ink pots kept flashing by. His breathing actually sped up, his fingers started nervously tapping against his knees, and the raw adrenaline still surging through his muscles caused his right thigh to bounce rhythmically. After two minutes of intense huffing and sweating, he cracked one eye open with a scowl. Frustration practically dripped from his face; he was still just as locked into reality as he was before.
With an annoyed grunt, he reached to his side and unrolled the ancient parchment scroll he had nabbed from the crypt. The paper crackled loudly in the quiet room. Leaning deep over the ancient ink lines, he studied the drawn meridians and the specific breathing symbols detailed on the document. Muttering the instructions under his breath, he laid the scroll flat on the mattress between them and took up the posture once more.
This time, he didn't force it. He dropped his shoulders, mirrored the fluid energy pathways from the drawing using his inner power, and drew a long, deep breath through his nose. Immediately, the air in the room shifted. A paper-thin, soft violet glow began to seep outward from his chest. The radiance pulsed in sync with his heartbeat, slowing down more and more, until his breathing became so deep and unshakeable that he completely cut off the outside world. His consciousness drifted downward, his body glowing constantly like a soft purple lantern as he sank into a motionless, profound trance.
The minutes began to tick away. Five minutes stretched into ten, and a quarter of an hour flew by. Nyx, still sitting on the bed, was practically counting the stones in the wall out of sheer boredom. Her eyes roamed across the silent room. She shifted her posture every few seconds; first sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, then rolling onto her side, until she ended up entirely upside down on the mattress, her legs hanging limply up against the stone wall while her hair swept the floor.
She turned her head toward Silarias's glowing face and started waving her hands right in front of his nose to see if his eyelids would twitch. Nothing. She sat straight up, leaned in so close her nose almost touched his, and began pulling the most ridiculous, scrunched-up faces at him, sticking her tongue out and rolling her eyes back to check if he was secretly faking it. But Silarias remained as unmoving as a marble statue.
Reaching into a small cloth pouch with her left hand, she shoved the remaining bits of pork belly and crunchy snacks she had smuggled out of the kitchen into her mouth. Her gaze landed on the open scroll lying between them. Chewing loudly, she leaned forward, pinched the corners of the parchment with her greasy fingers, and held it right in front of her face. Her eyes scanned the complex, spiral-shaped symbols describing the spiritual transition.
"Mnnn, can't be dat hard, right?" she muttered with a full mouth, licking the sweet glaze off her lips.
Tossing the scroll back onto the bed, she forced the last bite of meat down with a heavy swallow and decided to just give it a shot herself. She crossed her legs, matched Silarias's straight posture, and closed her eyes, searching for that same inner stillness.
**Attempt 1:**
Nyx took a deep breath and tried to funnel her magic down into her core, exactly like the first diagram showed. But instead of a smooth stream, she felt her royal aura surge up like a chaotic wall. A bright silver spark shot out of her left ear with a sharp *poof* sound, dissolving into thin air. Her eyes snapped open and she shook her head as a strand of hair fell across her face. Nothing at all. The magic refused to bend.
"Alright, again. Focus," she stubborn-whispered to herself.
**Attempt 2:**
Gritting her teeth, she squeezed her eyes shut so tight that wrinkles formed around the corners, trying to force her breathing to slow down. She pushed a surge of her inner energy downward, but she was trying way too hard to force it. Her heart started hammering in her throat instead. Suddenly, a sharp, burning cramp shot through her stomach, as if the pork belly she just ate was violently protesting the sudden magical pressure. She let out a soft, frustrated cough and collapsed immediately, her concentration shattered into pieces. Failed again.
Nyx bit down hard on her lower lip. Her stubborn streak took over completely; she refused to be outdone by Silarias. She exhaled three slow breaths, let the frustration drain away, and allowed her arms to drop completely limp by her sides. Glancing one last time at the spiral symbol on the scroll, she closed her eyes and mimicked the rhythm this time with absolute, fluid precision. She consciously discarded every distracting thought of the cathedral and the kitchens.
**Attempt 3:**
On the third breath, everything shifted at a terrifying speed. The gravity under her seat seemed to vanish in a single stroke, as if the mattress had been yanked right out from under her. An ice-cold, razor-sharp shock shot straight up her spine from the tip of her tailbone. The room around her went dead quiet; even the crackling of the torch melted away.
Instead of gently drifting down into a trance, she felt a violent, pulling force yank at her backside. With a strange, clumsy jerk, she lost all control over her limbs. It felt like her entire weight tripped over an invisible threshold, lunging forward as she literally slammed right through the barrier of her own skin and bones.
With a soundless yet violent tear, Nyx was squeezed right through the barrier of her own physical shell. It felt like being pulled backward by an invisible rubber band, only to shoot forward with a sudden, clumsy spin. Her consciousness tumbled head over heels. Out of sheer panic, she squeezed her eyes shut tight, locking her teeth together, waiting for the hard impact of the stone floor.
But the crash never came.
There was no impact. In fact, there was nothing at all. The absolute vacuum of weightlessness wrapped around her. The gravity that had anchored her like an invisible chain her entire life vanished in an instant. Her senses, usually sharp and alert, suddenly fed a deafening silence to her brain. She couldn't feel a breath of wind, a hint of a draft, the warmth from the torch on the wall, or even the familiar icy chills of her own shadow magic. It was complete, pure empty void.
Slowly, inch by inch, she pulled her hands away from her face and forced her eyes open. Her pupils dilated wide in sheer disbelief.
She was floating. Her feet hung a good five feet off the ground, completely disconnected from any earthly logic. Looking down, the first thing she saw was Silarias's motionless body sitting cross-legged, still radiating that soft purple-violet aura. But right beside him, draped half over the scroll and the sheets, was her own physical body. It was a hilarious sight: her mouth was hanging slightly open, her arms were folded at a stupid twenty-nine-degree angle across the mattress like limp noodles, and her legs were sprawled out in a completely derpy, awkward clump, as if she had launched out of her own skin mid-jump and just left her bones behind like a sack of sand.
The room itself had transformed into a breathtaking spectacle. The air was no longer empty; millions of microscopic, glowing light particles drifted through the space like a cosmic snowstorm. They filled every corner, pulsing to rhythms of gold, silver, and deep blue, illuminating the grain of the wood and the pores of the stone walls with an otherworldly clarity.
Nyx spread her fingers, instinctively trying to summon her usual shadow powers. She wanted to bend the darkness, activate her Arctic Anting to freeze the room, but nothing happened. No black tendrils, no icy mist. Her magical arsenal was completely out of reach in this form. But she quickly realized she had gained something way better instead.
With a single thought, she shot forward. She could fly.
"Oh my god!" she squealed, though her spiritual vocal cords made zero physical sound in the room. She didn't care one bit. Hyped up and filled with the pure, wild joy of a little kid, she started zooming around the bedroom like a maniac. She pulled a sharp loop-de-loop right under the wooden ceiling, dived in a straight line toward the floor, grazed right past the flickering torch, and spun into a barrel roll through the air. Her hair—or the energetic projection of it—flapped wildly around her face. She flew in crazy circles around the heavy bedposts, her laugh echoing inside her own mind.
"This is insane! How much information even is this?! I can see the structure of the air! I can see everything!" she shouted in pure excitement, slicing her arms wide through the cloud of glowing particles. She was so overwhelmed by the visual beauty and the sheer kick of flying that she completely lost track of her surroundings. She wasn't paying attention to where she was steering for even a second.
She failed to realize that she was in a lucid dream state and that physical obstacles had lost all meaning. Suddenly, she saw the massive stone bust of an ancient warrior sitting on a pillar in the corner of the room coming straight at her. Her eyes widened. "Look out!"
She tensed up and held her arms defensively over her face, fully expecting to smash herself to pieces against the heavy marble. But instead of a violent crash, she glided right through the statue with total ease, without feeling a single shred of resistance. The stone molecules flashed past her like a gray mist. Overcome by the sudden disorientation, she lost her balance in mid-air. She tripped forward, tumbled through space, and slammed at top speed right into Silarias's glowing purple aura.
At the exact moment of impact, the focus of the spiritual realm abruptly swapped deep into the inner sanctuary of Silarias's trance.
There was no bedroom here, no derpy Nyx lying on the bed, and no crackling torch. This was the infinite, pitch-black abyss of his own mind, where the floor consisted of a mirror-smooth surface of dark water that rippled with every step. Silarias came walking through the dark with calm, slow strides. His steps were heavy and confident, his Bansaday aura smoldering like hot coals around his shoulders.
Without saying a word, he reached forward with his right hand and swept it in a smooth, horizontal arc through the air. The water's surface in front of him began to churn. Out of nowhere, a colossal, solid wooden council table materialized, its timber rising from the depths with a deep, grinding groan. Silarias walked over to the head of the table, where a massive, richly carved throne appeared. He sank into it like a boss, leaning back comfortably and scanning the empty room. With a fluid flick of his wrist, he gestured outward; down both sides of the table, the rest of the chairs shot out of the ground one by one with heavy thuds.
Suddenly, the darkness trembled. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed from all directions, heavy and rhythmic across the invisible water.
Silarias looked up. Out of the shadows walked Freya, Frey, and Odr. Their silhouettes radiated an ancient, divine authority as they stepped up to the table with stately strides, taking their seats in unison. Right behind them, a massive figure towered over the gloom. The Bansaday Lion Warrior marched into the circle of light with slow, imposing steps. His mane seemed to be crafted from pure fire, his heavy claws resting on the armrests of his chair.
"Hahaha... We meet again, young vessel," the lion warrior rumbled, his deep, booming laugh vibrating through the mirrored floor.
But the escalation wasn't finished. On the exact opposite end of the table, the darkness split open. An overwhelming, pitch-black and crimson energy erupted outward, far more intense and visually destructive than the rest. The pressure in the realm spiked to a boiling point; pure, raw darkness whipped through the air like razor-sharp shreds. Yet amidst this terrifying explosion of power, Lucifer stepped forward with a surprisingly calm, almost friendly smile on his perfect face.
"Young Sil... So we get to stretch our legs once more, haha," Lucifer spoke, his voice silky smooth and melodic, instantly diffusing the extreme tension in the room. He pulled his chair back and sat down with elegant precision while the demonic energy swirling around him settled down to a calm, smoldering flame.
Silence fell over the council like a heavy blanket. Everyone was seated. Silarias scanned the circle, his gaze calm, unbothered, and dripping with authority, as if he had been running this squad of legendary beings his entire life. He leaned forward slowly, resting his elbows on the rugged wood of the table, and clasped his fingers together.
"So, comrades... I want to—"
He didn't get any further.
From the high, distant darkness above, a sharp, panicked screech suddenly echoed, plunging downward at breakneck speed.
"Aaaaaahhhhhhh!"
Silarias cut his sentence off mid-word. His tough, composed posture vanished in a single instant. His head snapped up, his eyes popping open so wide the whites showed clearly, his mouth dropping wide open in sheer shock as he stared up at the sky.
"NYX?!" he roared, completely stunned.
Shooting straight out of the heavens of his trance realm came Nyx, her limbs flailing wildly in every direction like a falling meteorite of pure chaos heading straight for the center of the table. With a reflex faster than light, Silarias threw his hands forward. His purple energy exploded from his palms, catching her mid-air.
With a loud energetic *woosh*, she slammed to a dead stop in mid-air just inches above the table surface, the gust of wind from her fall blowing the hair of the gathered gods and demons straight back.