The screen flickered as Alaric traced a gloved finger along the console, zooming in on Dario's distant figure. The Pillar's voice was smooth, almost reverent.
"Stardust," he started. "He mark's his targets with star-shaped runes. One touch, one thought and they detonate. He's publicly stated this himself. No secrets."
On-screen, Dario rocketed through the air, explosions erupting from his palms and boots in precise bursts, propelling him like a comet. The shockwaves rippled throughout the cityscape below, they were strong enough to propel his body but he kept them weak enough to make sure they didn't destroy the buildings in any way.
Corbin leaned forward, eyes alight. "Why the hell would he tell everyone how it works?"
Alaric's cane tapped once. "That's simply who he is. Arrogant, yes. But also strength. He dares the world to try to exploit him." his lips quirked. "And nothing has succeeded yet."
Ruben frowned. Something's missing. The way Dario moved midair, too fluid, too weightless. "How does he not blow his own limbs off?"
"You'll have to ask him yourself." Alaric murmured, just as the Skye's feed shuddered.
Then… it appeared.
A twitching, pulsating horror, two stories tall, its body a grotesque tapestry of flailing limbs, spiralling sirens, and veins bulging like live wires. Its head was a shattered alarm clock, hands spinning wildly, each tick a nails-on-chalkboard screech. Yellow caution tape coiled around its form like a straitjacket made of warnings.
"That is a Phantasm." Alaric told them.
Ruben's stomach lurched. Corbin's fingers dug into the couch armrests, his knuckles bleached white.
The creature shrieked.
The sound wasn't just noise, it was a playful force. The camera feed distorted as the wave hit the city below. Civilians clawed at their own skin, cars swerved into buildings, glass shattered in unison like a symphony of collapse. Even through the screen, Ruben's pulse spiked, his breath turning ragged.
Then. Dario moved.
The Skye couldn't keep up. One frame he was there, the next, gone. Alaric's voice was distant, "The Skye tracks up to Mach 1. He's just faster."
Another flash. Dario materialized beneath the phantasm, palm pressed to its writhing leg. A golden star flared up… BOOM!
The leg vaporized. The creature reeled, its siren-head spinning, but Dario was already behind it, driving a fist into its spine. Another star. Another detonation.
The phantasm rocketed skyward, Dario pursuing like a vengeful star himself. It tried to shriek again, but he blitzed its throat, a punch so fast the shockwave silenced the scream before it even began. Higher they went, Dario herding it away from the city, until…
The sky tore open.
A column of fire engulfed the phantasm. The explosion cleared the clouds, leaving Dario hovering, arms folded, embers drifting around him like falling stars.
Silence.
.
.
.
"Holy Shit!" Corbin breathed out.
Ruben realized his hands were shaking. On-screen, the citizens below were stirring, their panic dissolving into a dazed awe. One by one, they began to clap. The sound was tinny through the feed, but Ruben felt it in his ribs, a rhythm syncopated with his own hammering heart.
Exhilaration.
Alaric sighed. "He arrived in time." He gestured at the screen. "Yet many still fear Paladins as much as Phantasms. Power, even benevolent, breeds distrust."
The Skye's feed cut. The room felt suddenly smaller.
Corbin collapsed onto the couch, grinning. Ruben sat beside him, his body thrumming with something he couldn't name.
Alaric rose. "Rest. He'll return soon." The door clicked shut behind him.
Alaric was out of the room before Ruben even registered it.
Corbin opened his mouth, about to speak.
"I want that." Ruben said.
Corbin's eyebrow arched. "Want what? A God complex?"
"To be a Paladin." Ruben's voice didn't waver.
Corbin barked a laugh. "Damn. Most resolute you've sounded since we got here."
Ruben exhaled, a shaky half-smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. Usually only mouth off if I'm pissed."
"Can't imagine." Corbin drawled, but his smirk faded when Ruben didn't bite back. A beat. "... Guess I haven't given the best first impressions either."
Ruben nodded slowly.
Corbin stretched, feigning nonchalance, but his next words were edged. "Dario looked cool. But we'd be risking our lives for strangers. No fucking reason."
"Dario did it for us," Ruben countered. "We were strangers."
"Not a good enough reason."
"We have powers…"
"So what?" Corbin's voice sharpened. "Remember what he said? Most Ego users don't play hero." He leaned forward, eyes burning. "So give me one real reason."
The air thickened. Ruben's fingers curled into fists.
"I killed my dad."
Corbin froze. "...What?"
"I killed him." Ruben repeated, the words felt like ash in his mouth. "And I don't feel bad. My mom died when I was younger too. There's nothing left for me there."
Silence. Heavy. Suffocating.
Corbin exhaled, long and slow. "Shit." He dragged a hand through his curls. "My cousin died before I got here. Dad when I was nine. Mom didn't seem like she really cared for me." He let out a bitter chuckle. "Wouldn't go back even if I could."
He met Ruben's gaze, unflinching. "I'm staying. Becoming a Paladin. Partly 'cause it looks fun. Partly, 'cause Dario didn't have to take us in."
Then, he thrust out his hand. "If you plan on becoming a Paladin. Promise me you won't hold me back."
Ruben stared at the offered hand. The weight in his chest cracked open, not grief, not guilt, but something light.
He grabbed Corbin's wrist, grip firm. "I won't hold you back."
Corbin's grin was all teeth. "Better fucking not."
The deal was sealed.
***
The silence in Alaric's lounge had grown thick and syrupy, the weight of their unspoken futures was already pressing down on them. Ruben lay sprawled across one of the plush divans.
Corbin occupied the couch on the opposite side, his body arranged in a careless sprawl that suggested indifference but betrayed tension in the tight line of his shoulders. He picked on a loose thread on his sleeves, his dark eyes flickering between the ornate furnishings and the cityscape beyond the glass.
The two of them looked between each other and then the window.
"Let's get out of here." Corbin said.
"Really?" Ruben muttered, more to himself than Corbin because he had already decided to follow along.
Corbin snorted, the sound sharp and derisive in the quiet room. "Yeah. No take-backs." He flicked the loose thread away, watching it spiral to the floor. "By the way. Neither Alaric or that old man explained to us how we'll become Paladin."
Ruben frowned, his fingers stilling against the cushion. The embroidery beneath his fingertips was raised and intricate, each stitch a tiny contrast against the smooth fabric. "Dario's a Warlord. If he vouches for us…"
"Yeah, but no." Corbin interrupted, rolling onto his side to face Ruben fully. His expression was all sharp edges and skepticism. "Guy's got a whole bureau to run. Also I don't want to start asking for handouts."
A pause stretched between them, filled only by the distant hum of the city beyond the windows. Ruben rolled the thought in his mind, examining it from all angles like a strange coin found on the street. The metal was unfamiliar, the weight was all wrong.
"What do you think about those two pricks that jumped us earlier?" Ruben asked.
"Nothing really." Corbin started. "They just seemed real uptight and superficial."
"Who do you think is the stronger of the two?"
Corbin seemed more interested in estimating that about them instead. "Probably Elise. She was in control of everything anyway, the guy just seemed like the subservient underboss."
Corbin waved a hand as if he were swatting a fly. "Bet she's got some fancy Ego that looks good on paper but folds the second she's in a bit of trouble."
Ruben hummed, unconvinced. His gaze drifted back to the window where the sky had deepened to a bruised purple, streaked with the last stubborn veins of daylight clinging to the horizon. The colours were all wrong, too vibrant, too alive. Nothing like the smog-choked sunsets of home. "Dario's taking a while."
Corbin followed his gaze, then grinned. "Let's bail."
Ruben blinked. "What?"
"Explore. Get the lay of the land." Corbin was already on his feet, stretching his arms above his head with a series of satisfying pops. The fading light caught on the sweat-damp strands of his curls, turning them into a halo of burnt copper. "Unless you got something to be scared of."
Ruben scowled, pushing himself upright. The cushions sighed beneath him, releasing the scent of lavender and something earthier. "We don't know the city. Or the rules."
"Exactly," Corbin said, his grin wide. "Time to learn."
The city breathed differently at dusk.
The air carried the scent of the earth, crushed herbs, plants, grass, stone and Ruben could even notice the smell that he had associated with the Skye floating around. It was almost metallic.
The streets were similar to the ones back home at a glance, but their strangeness revealed itself in little glimpses.
Emergency signs adorned building corners, their bright colours standing stark against the stone. Each bore animal icons instead of words… a cheerful puppy (evacuate), a floating jellyfish (seek evac zone or underground zones), a hawk with wings outstretched (phantasm airborne). Ruben traced the shape of them with each of his eyes, committing it to memory.
The elevators, from what he could tell, in this district had been missing the number nine. Just… gone. No alternative symbols. Ruben guessed it had something to do with superstitions of finality.
The number nine could be seen as finality through destruction.
Public information boards flickered at irregular intervals, their displays shifting between messages in a script that almost looked like English. It was the same language he was asked his questions in on the computer.
It had only slight differences from the English languages that just seemed like some old version of it, or at least different inflections of the same language. So it was easy to understand for them.
And doors, so many doors in neighbourhoods had door handles wrapped in red thread, knotted like spiderwebs. The threads glistened faintly in the fading light.
Corbin kicked a pebble, watching it skitter across the uneven pavement. The sound echoed strangely in the quiet street. "No cameras," he observed. "Just those creepy Skye things."
Ruben nodded absently, his attention snagged by a storefront woman who was weighing parcels on an ancient looking scale, but instead of numbers, the displays were shifting colours, deep violet for one package, shimmering gold for another. She didn't seem to find it unusual in the slightest. He wondered what it could be.
"This place is…" Ruben began, then trailed off, lacking the words.
"Weird?" Corbin supplied coming to stand beside him. His breath fogged in the cooling air. "Yeah. Like a bad sci-fi movie."
They wandered further as the light bled from the sky, the crowds thinning with each passing block. The buildings here were older, their facades cracked and patched with mismatched stone.
A fat cat.
A fat tabby cat pranced around them.
Its fur was striped like burnt caramel, it then sat primly on a weathered stoop, methodically licking one paw. Its green eyes caught the last of the light, glowing faintly in the gathering dark.
Corbin smirked. "You afraid of cats or what?" He nudged Ruben with his elbow.
Ruben eyed the creature. There was something off about its gaze. Too knowing. "Just don't like 'em." he muttered.
"Pussy," Corbin snorted, bending to scoop it up…
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't manhandle me, thanks."
The voice was dry, amused and unmistakably coming from the cat.
Corbin recoiled so violently he nearly toppled over. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"
The cat, the talking cat, chuckled, the sound disturbingly human. Its tail flickered in apparent amusement. "Oh, that never gets old."
Ruben's pulse spiked, he was surprised and kind of freaked out. Cat's always seemed weirdly smart and perceptive, one talking right in front of him does not help his feelings towards them. He almost wants to just back away from it.
"How?" he asked.
"Fifth life," the cat said, as if that explained anything. At their blank stares, it sighed, the sound exasperated and oddly sophisticated. "The whole 'nine lives' thing? Not just a myth. Third life and most of us start talking. Ninth? Well. That's a tough year. No cat wants to meet theirs."
Corbin looked ready to combust. His hands flexed at his sides like he was considering strangling the creature. "This world just keeps getting weirder and also better."
The cat hopped down from its perch, landing with surprising grace for a fat cat. It padded toward the mouth of a nearby alley without looking back. "Follow to find out more or don't. But if you do, bring food. Speaking's hungry work."
Against every instinct screaming at him to run in the opposite direction, Ruben found himself following. Corbin, after a string of muttered curses that would make a sailor blush, trailed behind.
"Why can we understand you?" Ruben asked as they turned down the alley. The shadows here were deeper, the air was thick with the scent of damp stone.
The cat didn't glance back. "Ego users. You've just got it in ya once you get one."
"Got what?" Corbin asked.
"Like static." the cat elaborated. "Normal humans just hear meows. You lot get the full experience." It paused to scratch behind one ear with its hind leg, the picture of feline nonchalance. "Consider it a perk."
Ruben's mind whirled. The implications were staggering. "Do you remember your past lives? How you…"
"Died?" the cat's voice turned grim. It stopped walking, turning to face them fully. Its green eyes gleamed in the dim light. "Yeah. First life… car. Second life… dog. Third…"
"GAME"
The word slithered through the air, cold and final.
The world inverted.
White. Endless, suffocatingly white.
Ruben gasped, his lungs suddenly too small for his chest. Beside him, Corbin cursed violently. The alley cat, the city, all gone. Replaced by this… nothingness.
Felix Hartmann stood before them, his navy hair stark against the void. His longsword gleamed at his hip, but his hands remained loose at his side. When he smiled, it was thin. It didn't reach his eyes.
"Welcome. This is my Ego."
Corbin lunged, "Bullshit!" his fist flew into a wild arc.
Felix caught his wrist with effortless grace, twisted, and shoved. Corbin crashed into Ruben. Ruben was confused as to why Corbin didn't use his Ego, the same one that allowed him to smash a steel reinforced wall and caved it in.
"Game: Simon Says," Felix recited, his voice calm and measured as if he was reading from a manual. "Once summoned, opponents cannot use their abilities and neither can I, beyond the game's rules. Win, and you walk free. Lose…" His smile sharpened, turning predatory. "And you obey my three commands."
A voice, genderless and echoing, boomed from the emptiness.
"[Simon Says]: Crouch."
Felix dropped immediately into a perfect crouch, his movements looked practiced.
Ruben and Corbin remained standing.
For a heartbeat, nothing.
Then.
CRACK.
Pain lanced through Ruben's left arm, sharp and sudden as a snapped bone. He hissed through clenched teeth, his fingers spasming involuntarily. Beside him, Corbin clutched at his right arm, his face contorted in a snarl.
"One strike," the voice intoned. "Three, and the game ends."
Corbin bared his teeth, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "This is fucked."
"Play or lose." Felix said simply, rising from his crouch. His expression was unreadable.
Ruben's mind raced, his thoughts scrambling for purchase in this impossible situation. No powers. No weapons. Just rules. He met Corbin's gaze, seeing his own panic reflected back at him. "We have to," he said quietly.
Corbin's jaw worked, his hands flexing at his sides. Then, grudgingly. "Fine. But if we lose, you're taking the fall."
The next commands came in rapid fire.
"[Simon Says]: bounce on your left foot."
They obeyed. A chime sounded, the air flashing green.
"[Simon Says]: clap your hands."
Ping!
"[Simon Says]: stand on foot for one minute."
The minute stretched endlessly, Ruben's muscles trembling with the effort of maintaining balance. His injured arm throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Ping!
"Do one press-up!"
Corbin dropped instantly, his body moving before his brain could catch up.
"No…" Ruben tried to make a grab for him.
CRACK,
Fire exploded in Ruben's fingers, his left hand seizing as if crushed in an invisible vise. Corbin howled, his left leg buckling beneath him. He hit the white ground hard, his breath coming in ragged rasps.
"Two strikes."
Corbin painted, sweat dripping from his chin to stain the nothingness below. "Fuck…"
Ruben's mind whirred, his thoughts racing down possible paths and dead ends. One more mistake, and they were his. The realization settled in his stomach like a stone.
The next command came.
"[Simon Says]: dodge consecutively until I say stop."
Slow, floating balls materialized from the whiteness, drifting toward them with deceptive laziness.
They dodged. Ping!
Again. Ping!
Again.
Faster now. Ping!
Corbin's injured leg faltered. Ruben saw it, the slight stumble, the way his weight shifted wrong, before it happened.
No.
On the sixth volley, as the balls streaked through the air like bullets, Ruben kicked off his left shoe and hurled it.
THUNK.
The ball veered off course, missing Corbin by inches. And to make things better, Ruben had thrown his second shoe behind it and it smacked Felix right in his cheek.
Felix's head snapped toward Ruben, his eyebrows raised in what might have been admiration.
"Simon didn't say we couldn't interfere." Ruben said flatly, meeting Felix's gaze.
Felix's lips quirked. "Simon says that's cheating."
CRACK.
Felix arched, pain flashing through his normally impassive face as his back spasmed.
"One strike," the voice declared.
Corbin grinned, savage and triumphant. "Nice."
The game wore on, an hour, maybe more. Time lost meaning in the endless white. Commands blurred together, their bodies slick with sweat, muscles screaming in protest. Ruben's vision swam at the edges, Corbin's breath came in ragged, uneven gasps.
"[Simon Says]: run and do not get touched by the phantasm."
The world warped.
A chameleon's face, grotesquely scaled and far too large, lunged from the whiteness, its tongue lashing out with terrifying speed. Felix was already sprinting, his long legs eating up the distance with effortless grace.
They ran.
Ten seconds in, Corbin's legs gave out. He hit the ground hard, his face contorted in pain. "Just… Go!"
Ruben didn't hesitate. He turned around…
And let the phantom's tongue graze his shoulder.
The alley snapped back into focus with a sound like shattering glass.
The cat was gone.
Felix stood over them, his sword still sheathed but his hand resting on the hilt. A new knowledge burned in Ruben's skull, searing itself into his consciousness.
"[Winner: Felix Hartmann. Three commands granted.]"
A cool and sharp voice that couldn't even hide the smugness came in with the tapping steps of her feet hitting off the ground as she walked. "I presume you got the job done?"
The voice belonged to Elise.
Felix didn't look away from the boys. His expression was unreadable in the gathering dark.
"Just watch."