Shortly after Professor Raoul defeated Tiziri, Ghost said their farewell and left, leaving Luka alone in his head once more.

Luka was well aware of the nature of the beings he could call, but Ghost was so communicable and level-headed it was hard to remember. The nature of Ghost’s power made it even easier to forget.

But if Ghost could hear his “voice,” then they were just as dangerous as the other entities he’d summoned before. As dangerous as the devouring beast of the moon paths, as the wolf in his shadow.

As dangerous as that looming presence, distant yet omnipresent like night sky in the daytime, that he’d sensed when calling out to Ghost.

Luka had planned to follow Veric to help with the preparations for the ritual. However, Acacius approached him first.

“Luka. Can we talk?”

Judging by the way his expressions and body language had returned to their usual closed-off calm, his talk with Professor Raoul had done him some good.

Veric hesitated, glancing between them. It was easy to see that she was nervous about leaving them alone.

Acacius was also nervous, but he wasn’t hostile.

Luka put down the bundle of wood he’d been helping Veric carry.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“Depending,” said Acacius.

Veric bit her lip.

“Don’t kill each other while I’m not looking, okay?”

Luka had to wait two more years for that. It wouldn’t do to break his promise to Ghost.

“It might be better than some ways to go,” said Acacius. Veric gave him a horrified look, so he clarified, tonelessly, “Joke.”

“Don’t joke about that. We’ve come too far to just give up on getting home,” Veric urged. “Don’t give up hope just because of the timing of the catastrophe.”

“Which is why we should talk. Come on, Luka.”

He turned and walked off, butterfly wings drawing gazes everywhere as he went.

Luka reassured Veric before following Acacius to a quiet place at the edge of the cavern.

Acacius said, “I’ve been thinking about how to address the visual catastrophe.”

If it could be so easily resolved, KP-04 wouldn’t have remained unsolved for so many years. However, in this Fantasm, Acacius’ actions had proven themselves more than once.

“Is it possible?”

“I remember I wasn’t the only one who received a title from a spirit,” said Acacius. “Mine is the [Last Genesis of the Kaleidoscope], whose effects you can probably guess.” He gestured at his eyes and wings. “What was yours?”

Luka observed Acacius. No hostility still.

“The [Final Bridge of the Kaleidoscope].”

Since Acacius hadn’t had the opportunity to explore the Fantasm World before the Order struck, he elaborated.

“The bridgers were specialists in connecting souls. Since they could communicate with the Kalos butterflies that way, they acted as their caretakers on this island. Because of the title, when I meet someone’s eyes, I can sense the state of their soul.”

“And you didn’t notice the Professor was an imposter?”

“He wears glasses.”

“Of course. Lenses. What about me? If I’m blind, can you still…”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Can you go further than sensing and connect to others’ souls?”

“Yes, but…” This was touching on territory that might put them at odds again. “It isn’t good to come into contact with me.”

“For you, or for others?”

“Both.”

He hadn’t mastered the wolf’s power. Whether it devoured an intruding soul and grew in strength, or the intruder caused Luka to lose control of the wolf, none of the results were good.

Acacius clicked his tongue. “Why did you even get this title, then? These spirits sure are good at screwing around.”

Luka’s experience told him that this was a rhetorical question, but he answered it anyways. “It is because of my ability to ‘call’ others.”

Acacius narrowed his eyes. “Like with Ghost.”

It was unsurprising that Acacius knew. He must have learned from Ghost. Not for the first time, though, he wondered what their exact relationship was.

Ghost had killed the last prophet in the Duval family, by their own claim; why had they lent their power to the next?

“In any case,” said Acacius, “in this Fantasm, Ghost isn’t the only one you can call. Am I right?”

Luka looked at him sharply.

“How did you know?”

“Ghost suspected. So. Your ability to ‘call’ other entities. Does it give you any resistance to them?”

For a long time, Luka had thought Acacius targeted him because he was Sacha’s student, and Cyprian Duval was her enemy. Then for a while, he thought Acacius had done so because he’d seen something in prophecy.

Now he wasn’t sure.

“Not exactly.”

“Hmm.” Acacius closed his eyes and thought. “I’ll take another guess. Is it that your body is a suitable vessel, so it won’t be destroyed, but the you within that vessel can be?”

His guess was frighteningly close.

“Did Ghost tell you that too?”

“So it’s true?”

Luka gave up. “Not entirely. If given the chance… I can return and regain control. The difficulty lies in suppressing the entity enough to allow such a thing to occur.”

“So it’s a matter of helping you keep your consciousness.” Acacius nodded. “I don’t like leaving things to chance. The Eye of the Kaleidoscope is resistant to the disaster, and you also have the ability to survive it. If it’s us, we might be able to investigate and form a more suitable strategy than simply hoping for the best. What do you think?”

Luka understood Acacius’ words, logic, expression, and feelings. Every individual piece made sense.

So why was it that putting it altogether still did not help Luka to understand him?

An oft-cited lament leapt to the forefront of his mind.

O Secret-Keeper, why do you not reveal to me your mysteries? With whom do you hide the key?

In the rituals and plays, whoever played the Secret-Keeper would respond: The key that does not lie with you must lie with me.

Luka said, “When you warned Veric not to go down to the ocean, was it because the disaster would strike her there?”

Acacius was annoyed. “There you go again, acting like I’m a prophet. Do you think having all the answers to the future will help you?”

Acacius would play a good Secret-Keeper.

“I’ll go with you.”

Acacius paused; he’d been taken aback. Luka felt a bit pleased.

“When do we go?” he asked.

“…After the earthquake, when the tsunami arrives, the disaster will make it to the shore. By then, it’ll be too late to form and implement a strategy. I want to make use of Veric’s blessings and the Order’s weather manipulation frame to head out into the ocean ahead of time.”

Luka looked at Acacius’ wings.

“You don’t want to fly?”

Acacius gave him a look. It had to be deliberately staged, because Acacius was blind. “Does it make any sense for these wings to be able to carry me?”

“It’s the result of the Signifier’s work,” said Luka. “If it looks like it can fly, then it can.”

“…”

Sometimes, Acacius was really lacking in common sense.

“Get some sleep first,” Luka said. “When the sun rises, it’s not too late to head out.”

Acacius hesitated, but perhaps the toll of recent events convinced him. He asked, “What about you?”

“I’ll tell Veric to rest, too.” For Acacius’ benefit, he moved his gaze to the resting area that had been set up in Jules’ zone. “I’ll find you when the time comes.”

Veric declined to rest, saying her blessings meant she wasn’t all that tired. She was planning to go with Professor Raoul to find missing students and get rid of any hidden threats. “Are you coming?”

Luka shook his head. “I need to rest. Acacius has a plan.”

Veric didn’t ask any more questions. She just handed Acacius’ makeshift bag to him.

“Take anything you need and stay safe.”

She looked for a moment like she wanted to say something more, but in the end, she just hugged Luka tightly, as if that was sufficient to convey everything. Then she left.

Even if Luka knew how she felt, it didn’t mean he always knew why, and even if he knew why, he didn’t always know why people did what they did.

Acacius had been scared and suspicious and angry and sad. That wasn’t unusual. But his care towards everyone…

Maybe it was a change wrought by the Duval coming-of-age ritual. But it also reminded Luka of the boy Acacius had been, back before they knew each other’s names.

Luka had a good internal clock. When he woke up and checked the time with Jules, it was already time to rise.

“It’s a shame you went to sleep so early,” Jules said. “Otherwise, you could have witnessed the moment Professor Raoul eliminated the Order.”

“Did he use his astrolabe?” Luka asked.

“He did, indeed!”

Luka could imagine.

“Were you able to sense it?” he asked.

Jules usually navigated the world with her cane, supplemented by echolocation and the vibrations she read from the ground. The sky did not fall within reach of these skills.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Luka,” said Jules. “Our classmates were more than happy to describe it for me. Nithemoore’s professors are certainly impressive, don’t you think?”

Luka looked out at the cavern. It was more crowded now that Professor Raoul had gathered the scattered student body. It didn’t take long to pick out prominent figures in their grade like Mehran, Dagian, and Xander. However, he didn’t see Rhoswen. She didn’t like large gatherings, which would explain her absence. But there were still others missing as well.

“Has everyone been found?” Luka asked.

Jules rubbed her thumb over the handle of her cane.

“With such a great catastrophe, it’s fortunate that so many of us are still alive!” she said. “Let us hope that we can persist until the end.”

After they finished talking, Luka found Acacius where he was lying stomach down in one of the makeshift beds in the sleeping area, arms folded under his head and wings outstretched. He elected not to startle Acacius by shaking him awake, and instead called his name until he awoke.

“Do you need anything before we set off?” he asked.

“Did you pick up my artifacts?” Acacius asked.

Luka rummaged through the makeshift bag and handed them to him. Acacius hung them on his neck, stretched until his bones cracked, and said, “Let’s go.”

As they left, they passed the area where everyone had finished constructing the ritual doorway. Professor Raoul had already begun the ritual inscription. Despite the early hour, a crowd of students were still gathered around, seizing the opportunity to witness the process firsthand.

Because of that, no one paid much attention as they exited the cavern and left for the surface.

When they were alone, Acacius began sharing his thoughts with him.

“I verified Tiziri’s information about the Fantasm World with other students who had the opportunity to explore,” he said. “It seems that since she intended to return to the Broken Kaleidoscope, she didn’t tell any lies.”

That made sense.

“The disaster should be related to the contamination of both visual information and the soul. If you can call the disaster, it should have a consciousness. And it should be something that has a ‘gaze’ that can be broken, otherwise the butterflies would’ve died out via its contamination and not by human hands. Taken altogether, I’d guess that part of the danger of the disaster is being ‘seen’ by it as much as seeing it.”

That was an impressive series of inferences.

“Even if you don’t realize you saw it, it can still affect you, and if your sight is the avenue of infection, your eyes might feel strange. But considering your title, Luka, you should be able to see right away if someone has been infected as long as you look at their eyes.” He added, “According to Ghost.”

Luka was forming a suspicion.

“Are you using Ghost as an excuse for knowing things that you shouldn’t know?”

Acacius’ emotions shifted. He said, “Luka, you really say terrible things about me.”

Luka looked at him, unsure of where this could be going.

Acacius began ticking off his fingers. “Think about it. You accuse me of being a liar, you call me a prophet, and then you ask me if I’m blind. What’s next? Am I going to die an early death, too?”

Luka calculated.

That was a joke.

“That was funny,” he said.

“Then you should laugh.”

Luka thought about it and felt like it made sense.

He squeezed a smile onto his face and said, “Ha ha.”

“…Forget it.”

Since the joke was that everything Acacius listed was true, Luka had to wonder if Acacius thought he would die here. But despite his fears, hadn’t they escaped from Tiziri alive? No matter what future Acacius saw, surely it could be changed.

Outside the caverns, the rising sun’s rays were flooding down the mountainside in a tide of gold. Acacius’ wings stretched out to catch the sun, fluttering in contentment. Luka wondered if Acacius was aware of it.

“You should try flying,” he said. “It might be faster than you think.”

Acacius clicked his tongue. “I’ve never flown before.”

He touched the net amulet from the sacrificial flow frame. He was nervous. A strong wind began to stir.

Experimentally, Acacius flapped his wings, and his feet lifted off the ground. Startled, he wobbled mid-air and crashed back down.

“Maybe with more confidence,” Luka suggested.

Acacius scrubbed the dirt off his face and tried again.

He was a fast learner.

It didn’t show much on his face, but he was excited.

“Do you think you could carry someone?” Luka asked.

Acacius thought about it and said, “Would the Signifier have designed these wings for it?”

Luka recalled the hours he’d spent in his teacher’s backyard, watching the idle activities of nature in and around the pond.

“Insects often fly while carrying their mating pair with them,” he said. “So I think they can support more than twice their body weight.”

Acacius narrowed his eyes at him. Then the corner of his mouth turned up in a faint smirk.

“You want to try flying too, is it? Alright. Come here.”

Was that what he wanted? In the time he took to consider the question, Acacius had already approached and wrapped his arms around his waist. They were almost the same height.

“Ready?” Acacius said, breath warm on the back of his neck.

Without waiting for an answer, he beat his wings and kicked off the ground. The wind surged and caught him like a kite.

The slope fell away from under their feet, further and further, until they had risen over the morning mists. The foot of the mountain, then the outskirts of the island city, passed beneath them.

“This is faster and easier than I thought,” said Acacius. “Should we keep going like this?”

Luka looked down at his dangling feet. In this position, it would be easy for Acacius to hurt him; easier still for Luka to do the same.

He held onto Acacius’ arms.

“Keep going.”

The wind picked up speed, and they shot forward over the ocean.

It was hard to believe that he and Acacius were sharing such a peaceful moment again.

Although 6E elements were not limited by one’s personality, one’s affinity was strongly influenced by it. Fire was symbolic of anger, passion, boldness, vitality, and destruction. Having been in close contact with Acacius over the past day, Luka was confident in saying that he was bolder and more decisive than before.

But it was possible that his new affinity was simply influenced by Ghost’s presence.

As with many things, Luka’s final conclusion was that he needed to observe more to understand.

The island had long disappeared behind them. Although Luka’s duty was to watch the horizon, occasionally his gaze wandered to the sunlight on the wave patterns below them, the pelagic birds skimming over the waters, the flashing scales of schools of fish below. He wasn’t sure how much time passed like that.

He blinked.

There was a stain in the water.

Spreading from the horizon, like the sheen of an oil spill, it distorted his vision of everything it had touched. It bloomed over the ocean waves, out from the birds and fish of the sea.

Without a doubt, they had found what they were looking for.

“It’s looking at me,” Acacius muttered. “It feels like the Eye of Misfortune. Or is it the Eye of Clairvoyance…? I don’t know. Well, it must have consumed users of the Eyes, after all.”

The wind around them changed. Acacius brought them to a hovering standstill , no longer moving forward.

“The pattern on my wings is protecting me from its gaze for now. What about you?”

“I’m fine,” said Luka. He took a deep breath.

The entity before him…

Or “entities”?

The [Final Bridge] let him feel its “soul.” If the typical soul was like an egg contained within its membrane, the thing before him was a cancer that had broken its membrane, lost its form, and contaminated everything it touched.

The boundaries between it and the souls of the things around it were becoming blurred, and as it blurred, their physical forms distorted and became part of the “stain.” Everything was merging. Everything was falling apart.

Luka haltingly conveyed his impressions. He was unsure how helpful it was.

“Let’s check if it can spread in the deep ocean, too, where there’s no light to see by,” said Acacius.

“Your wings might tear at deep pressures,” said Luka. “Wait up here.”

Acacius let him down into the water. Luka surrounded himself with aura and dove. The light around him rapidly faded away.

Veric’s blessing was strong, but the greater the pressure underwater, the harder it was to breathe.

When he reached total darkness and had only his Trajectory senses to rely on, he turned around, letting his eyes sweep over the blank expanse around him.

“It” met his eyes. He could still feel its massive presence, stretching for fathoms up and down.

Perhaps, aside from this island, everything had already become part of “it.”

Luka swam up and away. When he broke the surface of the water, he spotted Acacius’ silhouette in the sky. The patterns on his wings made his eyes hurt.

Fortunately, Acacius felt his gaze quickly. He reached into the water and pulled Luka out. Luka slung an arm over his shoulders as Acacius put his arms around his waist. They flew back up into the air.

“How was it?”

“It’s still there in the dark.”

“Perhaps it doesn’t propagate by the visual light spectrum alone.”

Luka’s mind was still spinning.

“If even one person is infected and brings it to the ritual area…” he said.

A seabird came apart in a fractal of flesh and light.

“Or if a stray living thing wanders in,” Acacius added. “The Kalos butterflies are fine, but they aren’t the only lifeforms in the caverns. Fish, bats, beetles, plants…”

They were both silent.

What were the odds that not a single thing near them would see or be seen by the disaster?

If the contamination process was slow, if they finished the ritual fast enough, if they could leave just as the disaster reached the caverns.

Acacius was the first to speak.

“Luka, what exactly does it mean to connect your soul with someone else’s?”

“Thoughts, emotions, abilities, and senses can be shared.”

“Let’s try it. Maybe something new will come of it.”

Luka blinked. Had Acacius’ newfound decisiveness grown to this extent?

“Are you sure?”

“We should do what we can as long as we’re here.”

But Luka still hesitated.

“Putting your soul in contact with mine might be… dangerous.”

“Can Ghost handle it?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll be fine. Do it.”

He turned his head towards Luka and focused his eyes, and their gazes met. The [Final Bridge of the Kaleidoscope] stirred.

Luka only hesitated a moment longer before he opened the bridge.

His first impression was darkness, then heat, and then, a spark of fire in the midst of it all. As he drew closer to that fire, it flared and roared.

A second set of senses bloomed.

He felt wind on his wings, weight in his arms, and a kaleidoscope of vision, the world from hundreds of eyes. Fish swimming together in the ocean, snapshot after snapshot of the deep blue. Birds looking down from above, wheeling over the waves.

One all-encompassing gaze, huge and endless, stretching far beyond the horizon of what he could sense.

It saw everything, it saw itself. It saw receding echoes of the past movements overlapping with the present. It saw dozens of futures collapsing with each passing second as a single possibility congealed, only for dozens more futures to arise out of the mist of uncertainty. It saw the connections between souls that dictated the entanglements of the world.

Everything it saw twisted and congealed. Distinctions disappeared. Information lost all meaning. The things of the world melted until they couldn’t be told apart.

Luka felt hot and cold, queasy and nauseous.

If Veric had come down to the ocean…

“Can you break that gaze?” he asked.

“I can try.”

As if it was his own body, he felt a mysterious power shift and spin to life like a glistening, crystalline core.

The nearest “surface” of the disaster fractured, cracked, and scattered, like dead skin flaking away.

The flakes that were nearest each other began to assimilate into each other once more.

“Wait,” said Acacius. “Those pieces…”

He flew them lower to a small fragment that had been scattered far away from the main body, and the power of the Eye of the Kaleidoscope flowed out again.

The fragmented body broke down further. The twisted flow of its soul began to shift, and its physical form writhed to match it, forming a vague and familiar outline.

It was an Eye of Misfortune, misshapen, sick, and with vision so damaged it could only see within a small radius.

But it was an Eye nonetheless.

An idea threaded through Acacius’ mind, cold as a snake. It crossed the bridge between them to settle into Luka’s mind, unspoken.

“Ignore that,” said Acacius. “It’s dangerous.”

If it had been anyone else, yes.

“I can do it,” said Luka.

He opened another bridge to the Eye of Misfortune. The soul of the disaster brushed against him. Luka resisted it. A piece this small wasn’t yet enough to shake him.

“…Reckless.”

Acacius’ will flowed into him, but Luka blocked him from going across the new bridge. Unlike him, Acacius might be vulnerable to its contamination. Instead, he extended his will across the bridge in Acacius’ place.

The soul of the disaster didn’t exhibit much will of its own. His directive filled it, and the Eye moved, spinning its gaze around to the disaster’s main body. Under its gaze, the “soul” of the disaster looked different. The traces of everything that had been absorbed into it were visible, like faultlines that hadn’t yet been healed.

Perhaps by following those faultlines, it would be possible to dismantle the disaster’s body. Even as the Eye of Misfortune’s vision began to distort and fail again, the power of the Eye of the Kaleidoscope spun forth. The disaster’s body broke again, some along the faultlines, some not. Among the newly broken pieces, Luka felt more Eyes coalescing.

“Can you connect us?” asked Acacius.

“I can.”

“If it’s too much, then stop.”

Luka didn’t bother answering. He read the intentions that came across Acacius’ bridge, and reached for Eye after Eye.

The Eye of Causality.

Acacius began reading traces of the past from the disaster. Finding which pieces of the soul had been users of the Eyes in the past, and which ones weren’t. He shifted paths of fortune and broke the disaster again.

“I need more,” said Acacius.

Luka gave it to him.

The Eye of Clairvoyance.

The range of the Kaleidoscope’s cohesive vision expanded, not just above the ocean but into the waters as well. Each Eye of Clairvoyance extended their sight further into the body of disaster itself.

When Acacius used the power of the Kaleidoscope, it began to scatter and break more deeply, more completely. The disaster was slower to come together.

“This Eye is becoming unusable,” Acacius said. He shattered it with the Eye of the Kaleidoscope. His force of will spread down the bridge more assertively than ever, instructions on how each Eye needed to move. “Get me another one.”

Luka reached out for yet more.

The Eye of Providence.

With each addition of this type, possible futures unfolded before them like the flowers of a petal — never more than a few seconds into the future, but those short glimpses were enough.

His world was narrowing down to the bridges, his targets, the effort it took to maintain them. Where Acacius looked, where his intention moved, that was what Luka did. The delay between Acacius’ thoughts and Luka’s execution grew smaller and smaller.

Luka felt stretched thin, split open and exposed. He felt like the glove that Acacius was wearing in order to wield his tools. In turn, Acacius’ intuition and direction became increasingly precise.

He directed the Eyes around himself like a halo, expanding and contracting as his attention moved. In clusters of perspectives he had Luka move them, waves of patterned sight. The disaster was split by the Kaleidoscope over and over again.

The pieces of the disaster were resistant. If close enough and left alone long enough, they would fuse together again.

However…

If they were small enough, the pieces of the disaster would wither and disappear. Splotches of organic and inorganic matter floating in the water were the only evidence left behind.

Acacius’ calculations became smoother. He broke the disaster in smooth lines and patterns that never managed to rejoin. In coordinated waves, the pieces shriveled into nothing as if that had been their purpose from the start.

Only Luka knew how much it took to disperse each piece.

Luka didn’t know how long they did this. An eternity passed in the blink of an eye.

For the first time in a while, Acacius spoke out loud.

“How much longer can you hold on?”

Luka wiped the sweat out from his eyes.

He’d lost track of the number of bridges he’d opened. If it had been any other person, he thought the disaster would have long contaminated their soul already. To use Acacius’ strategy, this world would have needed a parade of volunteers ready to burn their lives.

“I can do it as long as it takes,” he said.

Acacius was silent.

Then he said, “Let’s stop here.”

Luka caught his breath. The sun had moved, and the wind chilled the sweat on his skin. At some point he’d closed his eyes, but sharing senses with Acacius and the Eyes as he was, he didn’t need them to know how their surroundings looked.

“The disaster isn’t gone. We’ve only pushed back one front, but the island is surrounded by ocean on all sides.”

Acacius didn’t answer.

“We don’t have time to rest. The tsunami will bring the disaster closer. We have to eliminate what we can before then.”

Acacius said, “I know.”

But he didn’t change his mind.

Luka opened his eyes and looked at Acacius, saw his expression. It hit him, all of a sudden, how exhausted they both were.

“We have a solution,” Acacius said. “We just aren’t strong enough to execute it in time to guarantee everyone’s lives. That’s all there is to it. I’m sorry.”

And he was sorry, Luka realized.

Somehow, that was more upsetting than than anything.

“Will we be able to save someone contaminated by the disaster?” he asked.

Acacius didn’t speak, but his intent floated down the bridge. Luka followed that thought and looked down at the ocean, where an indescribably wretched film of organic detritus now floated on the waves.

Luka knew what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t accept it.

What about Veric?

What would he do if the disaster contaminated her? What could he do?

There had to be something.

If they just had more time.

If the disaster was just smaller.

If there was a way to compress and contain it, so that the Eye of the Kaleidoscope could break it once and for all.

The seed of an idea took root in Luka’s mind.

“There might be a way,” he said.

“What is it?”

“If I called it into my vessel.”

Acacius’ grip tightened around his waist, and his voice sharpened. “And then what?”

Luka looked at Acacius evenly.

Acacius understood. Of course. Outwardly, he only pressed his lips together, but inwardly, Luka could feel the anger flashing down the bridge.

“No,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to. Why do you? Are you a fan of playing the hero, is that one of your dreams?” He added, “Stop using that bridge to see what I’m feeling.”

Luka didn’t need it to do that, so he obeyed and cut the bridge.

“You also played the hero,” he said.

Another flash of rage. “Wow, Luka, you have such a talent for looking at the world through rose-tinted lenses.”

It was strange.

“I thought you would be fine with it. You’ve wanted to kill me for a long time.”

“That’s that, and this is this,” said Acacius. “No, forget about that for a second. Even if you don’t care what I think, what about Veric?”

Acacius had been such a ruthlessly pragmatic person this whole Fantasm, Luka had thought he would leap at the chance to guarantee everyone’s safe exit at the cost of just one life — especially if it was him.

As Luka thought, he didn’t understand him.

“Are we still enemies?” he asked.

Acacius ground his teeth together and glared. “I don’t know. Are we?”

In the plays, the Secret-Keeper never truly revealed where the “key” was. It was incumbent upon the seeker to seek.

He felt like he was looking into a mirror reflecting another mirror. An infinite cavalcade of reflections all the way down.

“I don’t think we have to be,” he said.

His reflection answered back.

“Then that’s how it will be.”

Luka exhaled softly.

A reflection hid what was beyond the surface, but it also revealed the truth. Luka would try trusting Acacius one more time. Just as Acacius had been trusting him.

“There’s a chance I can subdue the disaster in my vessel,” he said. “If you use the Eye of the Kaleidoscope to restrain it in me, it should give me a better chance.”

Acacius remained unmoved. “And if you can’t do it?”

Luka studied his expression.

“Even if I die, I’ll come back. So you shouldn’t hesitate.”

Acacius narrowed his eyes. The pattern in his eyes transformed and spun, dizzying and piercing all at once.

“If I say no, will you still attempt it on your own?”

If Veric was in his position, she would be terrified, but she wouldn’t change her mind.

“You said you didn’t like leaving things to chance. I don’t either.”

Acacius swore at him.

“Maybe I’ll dump your body in the ocean and let you fight by yourself. What do I care if you go crazy on your own?”

“I trust you,” he said.

Acacius’ anger flared, so fierce and incandescent it felt like it should burn him too.

Why was he so upset?

Were they friends again or not?

What did Luka mean to him, really?

On impulse, Luka opened his mouth.

“Acacius.”

“What?”

“Do you think… I’m human?”

“What kind of bullshit are you saying now?”

But Luka wanted to know.

He’d wondered for a long time. He didn’t remember anything about his childhood, and Sacha wouldn’t talk about how she found him; his powers were strange and dangerous, and he was always being cautioned not to break his seals.

He was willing to wait until Sacha was ready to tell him, and if she never told him, then he didn’t need to know.

But even so, he couldn’t help but doubt.

Who was he? What was he? Why could he do the things that he could?

Why had Acacius ended their friendship when he found out who he was?

Was it really wrong for a prophet to want to kill him?

Luka kept his eyes on Acacius, waiting for an answer, and Acacius, caustic and angry, gave him one.

“If you aren’t human, what could you possibly be? Should I give you a title to reassure you too?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Acacius bit back his next words, then spat out, “A carelessly given title can kill you, you fool.”

It made sense. A skill so powerful couldn’t be so simply used.

Acacius took in a deep breath. His anger cooled rapidly into something icy and cold, but it still burned.

“Why do you want to be human, anyways? What’s so good about it?”

Luka thought it was a strange question.

He pondered it all the same, and he spoke.

“…I want to understand others. In their joy and sorrow, in anger and despair… If I could experience those things, maybe the world they live in would be visible to me, too.”

“You sound ridiculous,” said Acacius. “Do you think you don’t feel those things already?”

Luka wasn’t sure.

Acacius sighed.

“To me,” he said, “the fact that you want to be human is proof that you already are.”

“Is that how it works?”

“If I can be human, so can you.”

Acacius was a liar, but he was a prophet too.

Luka wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but he saw his reflection in Acacius’ eyes.

Oh, he thought.

So I could smile like that.

As he thought, if Acacius had to die, it was right to take the life of his first friend with his own hands.

“Be careful not to let me draw my sword.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Turning his gaze back out to the disaster, feeling the immensity of its “soul,” he called out.

As if it had been waiting all along, it responded.

He gasped as it flooded into his vessel. It wasn’t as hungry as the wolf had been, and it wasn’t as gentle as Ghost. It was overflowing with a repulsively fecund energy and sick to the point of collapse. The distortion in the seas receded and poured into his eyes.

As with the wolf, it started to eat at him.

Unlike with the wolf, Sacha wasn’t there to help him.

He curled over as a pain beyond the body wracked his being, and the wolf in him howled. The two powers clashed. What knew nothing but hunger grew cancerous sarcoma that made it tear off its own flesh to fill its stomach. What proliferated to the point of rot was swallowed by a hunger so endless that nothing could ever fill it.

One ever-devouring, one ever-subsuming. A mutual consumption without end.

Between flashes of sensation beyond senses, Acacius shifted his grip on him and turned his face.

“Luka, look at me.”

The Kaleidoscope enveloped his vision.

The disaster inside him broke. The wolf devoured it piece by piece. It reformed again, broke again, was devoured again. Slowly, agonizingly, it diminished.

The will of the wolf, hungrier for all it had eaten and emptier for all it took, began to swell. He was so empty it hurt. Luka panted. He lifted his hand.

Who was that in front of him?

It didn’t matter.

Eat.

Devour.

Destroy.

The sky darkened, and blood spilled over his hands.

A voice was calling out for him. Again, and again.

Luka didn’t care. He tightened his claws and sank his fangs in.

The hunger in him howled for more, more than what little he held in his hands. It poured out into the shadows of the world, devoured those dark hollows with its own hollowness, and it still wasn’t enough.

His prey struggled. A pair of wings shredded apart in his grasp and disappeared into his shadowy jaws.

He was falling.

Someone was falling with him.

“Why the hell did you have to ask me?”

Hands gripped his shoulders. A pair of golden eyes, spinning in fractals, swallowed his vision. He felt dizzy.

“You think I like killing my friends?”

They hit the water and sank. Luka tore flesh apart. Blood flowed on his tongue. The sensation only stoked his madness. He wanted to eat it all.

The darkness of the world came alive, writhing with his hunger. Every shadow another mouth. Land, sea, flesh, bone, it didn’t matter. He devoured everything he could touch.

It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.

The teeth of darkness closed around the sun. Day turned to night. A midday eclipse.

A sigh blew in his ear.

“This is your fault, you bastard,” said Acacius hoarsely. “Remember, you asked for it.”

He wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tight.

A cold knife slid into Luka’s back and pierced his heart.

Luka gasped.

And then he died.

---

[Congratulations to the explorers who dared to challenge the circle of history.]

[The Fantasm World known as “KP-04” has been solved.]

[Top contributors:

1. Acacius Duval

2. Luka ◾◾◾

To those who have cut the serpent’s tail, the rewards will be distributed accordingly.]

---

He opened his eyes in a familiar forest, under a familiar sky. The entrance to the Fantasm World glowed across the clearing. The phantom of a golden serpent that encircled it was slowly spitting up its tail.

Acacius was sitting next to him. His eyes had returned to normal and his wings were gone, but his wounds remained. Blood was soaking through his shirt.

He said, “You should be grateful that your gambit worked.”

He also said, “Don’t ever ask me to do that again.”

Whenever Luka resurrected, it was always his last desires before he died that dominated him.

Eat.

Devour.

Destroy.

Luka sat up.

“…Luka?”

Acacius was fast, but Luka was faster.

He pushed Acacius down and sank his teeth into his throat.

That was the scene that greeted everyone when they finally escaped the Fantasm World.

Luka didn’t remember too much after that.

Chapter 34 Back to Index