The Guild Memorial Hall stood at the heart of Lumine City, a solemn structure of white stone and stained glass. Unlike the grand headquarters with its banners and bustle, this building existed for a single purpose: honouring those who never returned from the depths.
Elias approached from the garden side, avoiding the main entrance where guild officials would be stationed. The stabilizer had dampened Azef's presence enough that he felt almost normal, just a grieving scout paying respects to fallen comrades. Almost.
Through coloured glass, he could see the ceremony had already begun. Four biers stood at the centre of the hall, draped with the crimson and gold of his former party's colours. Candles surrounded each one, their flames reflecting off the memorial crystals placed atop empty ceremonial armour.
No bodies to bury. No remains to send home. Just memories and empty metal shells.
Elias found a side alcove with a partially obscured view, close enough to witness, far enough to remain unnoticed. As his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, he began to recognize faces.
Guild officials in formal attire. Adventurers from friendly parties. A few merchants who had commissioned Crimson Vanguard for escort duties in the past.
And families. Dalia's younger sisters clutching each other. Meris's elderly father supported by cousins. Gareth's wife, seven months pregnant with a child who would never know its father.
The grief Elias had been holding at bay threatened to overwhelm him. These weren't just teammates who had died, they were people with lives and loves and futures, all extinguished in an instant.
Because of a decision he had failed to prevent.
I should have tried harder to stop them, he thought. I should have refused to continue.
The guild master spoke now, his sonorous voice filling the hall with practiced solemnity. Words about courage and sacrifice. About the risks all adventurers accepted. Empty platitudes that did nothing to fill the void left by four vibrant lives.
Then came the individual remembrances. Battle companions sharing stories of Gareth's bravery. Fellow mages praising Meris's innovations. A patient Dalia had once saved offering tearful thanks to her memory. Even taciturn Tarrow received heartfelt tributes from those few who had truly known him.
No one spoke for the fifth member of Crimson Vanguard. In the official narrative, Elias Vern was an absence, a shame best left unmentioned.
As the ceremony continued, Elias sensed movement beside him. His hand moved instinctively to his concealed blade before recognizing the hooded figure.
"I told you not to come," Mira whispered, her face half-hidden in shadow.
"I needed to see it," he replied softly. "To understand what was lost."
She studied him with those assessing eyes, then nodded slightly. "And what have you learned, watching from the shadows?"
"That I don't belong here anymore."
"None of us do." She turned to watch the ceremony. "Death would have been cleaner, you know. Then you'd be on one of those biers, honoured like them. Instead, you're the ghost at the feast."
A ripple of movement near the main entrance caught Elias's attention. Guild inquisitors, three of them, including Drace, scanning the gathered mourners with purpose.
"They're looking for you," Mira noted. "Seems your absence from your lodgings was noted."
Elias tensed. "Why would they care where I am?"
"Because you're an anomaly. A survivor when none should have existed. And the guild dislikes unexplained phenomena almost as much as it dislikes those who break its rules."
The stabilizer was wearing off. Azef's presence grew stronger in his mind, along with enhanced awareness of his surroundings. He could sense the subtle shifts in air current as the inquisitors moved through the crowd, the pathways between columns and mourners, the quickest route to each exit.
[Detection risk increasing]
[Recommend immediate departure]
[Multiple pursuit patterns identified]
"We need to leave," Elias murmured.
Mira raised an eyebrow. "Your fragment getting nervous?"
"It's not wrong. There are too many people here who'd recognize me."
She gestured to a servant's passage behind the alcove. "This way. I scouted it earlier."
"You knew I'd come despite your warning."
The ghost of a smile touched her lips. "Let's just say I understand the need for proper goodbyes."
They slipped into the narrow passage as Inquisitor Drace's gaze swept over their previous position. The timing was too perfect to be coincidence.
"You have enhanced perception too," Elias realized as they navigated the dark corridor.
"Different from yours," Mira replied. "My fragment specializes in defence, which includes threat detection. I sensed the inquisitors' focus shift our way about thirty seconds before they actually moved."
The passage led to a small courtyard behind the memorial hall. Evening had fully settled now, cloaking the city in shadows broken by crystal street lamps.
"We should split up," Mira suggested. "Different routes back to the observatory."
Elias nodded, but hesitated before departing. "Thank you. For coming after me."
"Don't mistake it for sentiment, Spatial. Tomorrow's expedition needs four functioning members. I'm just protecting the team investment."
Despite her words, there was something in her expression that suggested more complicated motivations. Before he could decipher it, she was gone, melting into the shadows with practiced ease.
Elias chose a less direct route back, winding through residential districts and avoiding main thoroughfares. The streets were quieter than usual, many citizens having attended the memorial or paying respects at smaller shrines throughout the city.
As he passed one such shrine, a simple stone marker with freshly lit candles, a voice called out from nearby.
"I thought that might be you."
Elias froze, recognizing the speaker instantly. He turned slowly to face Brennan, Gareth's friend who had confronted him the previous day. The larger man stood alone in the gloom between street lamps, his expression unreadable.
"I'm not looking for trouble," Elias said quietly. "I was just paying respects."
"Were you? Or were you making sure they were really gone?" Brennan's voice carried the slur of drink, but his stance remained steady. "Couldn't face their families directly, could you? Had to skulk around the edges."
Elias said nothing. What defence could he offer that would matter to this grieving friend?
"You know what I can't figure out?" Brennan continued, stepping closer. "How you made it out at all. That dungeon collapsed to the seventh level. Rescue teams couldn't get past the second. So how did a mediocre scout survive when stronger men died?"
The accusation hung in the air between them. Not just cowardice now, but something worse, something impossible.
"I was lucky," Elias said, the same explanation he'd given everyone.
"Luck." Brennan spat the word. "No one's that lucky. You know what I think? I think you found something down there. Something worth sacrificing your friends for."
The irony of how close to truth the accusation came was not lost on Elias. He had indeed "found something", just not by choice, and not before his friends were already lost.
"Think what you want," Elias said, turning to leave. "Nothing I say will change your mind."
"You don't deny it, then?" Brennan called after him.
Elias stopped. "Would it matter if I did? You've already decided who I am and what happened."
"They deserved better than you." Brennan's voice cracked slightly. "Gareth trusted you. Called you the conscience of the party. Said you kept them honest."
The words cut deeper than any blade. Elias had never known Gareth thought of him that way. The warrior had always seemed to barely tolerate his caution, his constant risk assessments.
"He was my friend," Elias said simply. "They all were. And I failed them."
Something in his tone must have reached through Brennan's anger. The larger man hesitated, studying him with narrowed eyes.
"You're different," he said suddenly. "Something's changed about you."
Alarm flashed through Elias. Was the binding becoming visible somehow? He checked that his sleeves covered his arms fully, that no tell-tale blue glow escaped.
"Grief changes people," he replied, hoping the platitude would suffice.
Brennan shook his head slowly. "No, it's something else. Your eyes..."
Elias stepped back into deeper shadow. "I need to go."
"Wait..." Brennan reached for him, but Elias was already moving, faster than the larger man could track.
Enhanced reflexes and spatial awareness allowed him to navigate the darkened streets with unnatural precision. He took three quick turns, ensuring he wasn't followed, before continuing toward the observatory.
Azef, did he see something? he questioned silently.
[Minor manifestation occurred during emotional spike]
[Partial retinal illumination likely visible in low light]
[Will recalibrate suppression parameters]
That was concerning. If his binding could be visibly detected, especially during moments of emotional stress, concealing his condition would be far more difficult than he'd assumed.
The encounter left Elias shaken. Not just from the near-discovery, but from what Brennan had revealed. Gareth had respected him more than he'd known. Had seen something in him worth trusting.
And now that trust lay buried beneath tons of collapsed dungeon, along with whatever future they might have shared.
As Elias approached the observatory on the hill, its domed silhouette dark against the night sky, he made a decision. The memorial, Brennan's confrontation, the inquisitors' search, all confirmed what Mira had said. His old life was over. Clinging to it would only bring pain and dangerous attention.
If he was to survive, to find answers, to clear his name, to understand what he had become, he needed to embrace this new path fully. The Misfit Company. The binding with Azef. The abilities that came with it.
Continuing to see himself as Elias the scout, fifth member of Crimson Vanguard, would only hold him back. That man had died in the collapse, just as surely as his friends had.
Whoever, whatever, had emerged was something new.
As he reached the observatory's side entrance, the crystal lock recognized him automatically. Inside, the main research chamber was dark, but he could sense movement in the lower levels—Thorne still working, despite the late hour.
Elias made his way to his quarters without encountering anyone. Inside, he found a sealed note had been slipped beneath his door.
The handwriting was precise and angular:
North gate. Dawn. Bring everything. First test begins immediately.-L
Lyra's warning was clear enough. Tomorrow would determine his place in this strange new world, or his elimination from it.
Elias began methodically checking his gear, testing each piece of equipment with new thoroughness. The stabilizer had worn off completely now, allowing him full access to his enhanced perception. He used it to detect weak points in the armour, subtle imperfections in the blade's balance, optimal placement for each item in his pack.
Tomorrow, he thought toward the presence in his mind, we show them what we can do.
[Alignment confirmed]
[Integration stabilized at 97%]
[New abilities nearing activation threshold]
[This vessel's potential exceeds previous parameters]
For the first time since the binding, Elias felt something from Azef that wasn't merely analytical, a sense of anticipation, perhaps even eagerness, at the prospect of testing their combined capabilities.
He should have been disturbed by how natural it felt, this merger of human and dungeon fragment. Instead, as he completed his preparations and settled onto the narrow bed, Elias experienced an unexpected sensation:
Belonging.
Not to the guild. Not to his lost companions. But to this new existence, this space between human and other, where the rules were still being written and the possibilities stretched beyond ordinary limitations.
Tomorrow, the Misfit Company would enter a dungeon together. And whatever emerged would determine the path forward for them all.