Alex's soul returned to his body. He lay slumped on the altar in the middle of the room's runic formation. Other than the moon, which was visible through an unfathomably deep-dug oculus, his surroundings were dark. The runic light on the formation had winked out. He didn't exude an electrified glow, and neither did the Lost Souls. They were all gone now. He'd been terrified that he might find himself surrounded by them, unshackled by Sanity, but no, they'd just… disappeared.

"Hello?" He called out.

Nothing called back except his echo. Without the Lost Souls, this place was eerily empty.

Sitting up, Alex groaned, wincing from his wounded shoulder. Time was still a loose concept, but less loose than it had been within his inner world. His flesh had knit itself back together, somewhat. To the extent that his bandages prevented all his blood loss, which must've taken several hours. But not the lifetime that felt appropriate to have passed.

Once more back to the world of the living, I guess.

Alex stood, teetering slightly. As he regained his whereabouts, several things stood out to him as very, very odd. He'd received no achievements, titles, or any acknowledgement from the System about what he'd just gone through. Only the single notification from awakening his trait, and a few more from forming his core. Aside from that? Deafening silence, regarding a ritual involving an unprecedented amount of energy at that.

And during that ritual he'd literally been supercharged with Essence. He'd entered a charged state with an amount of Essence greater than the sum of his entire existence—yet he hadn't risen a single level. Nor had he been torn to ribbons, which was the far more likely of the two outcomes he'd thought possible. Instead, he was faced with another impossibility. And here he'd been expecting to awaken as a god, or to not wake up at all from the way they'd been talking up that ritual. His reality was as drab as it was confusing. All that energy had to have gone somewhere… but where?

He reached into his pocket for his phone and scanned with the flashlight as though that boundless reservoir of energy might just be lying around somewhere. He almost dropped it when he actually found something. A pale stick-shaped object laying on the outskirts of the formation, hard to make out in the poor lighting.

Is that…?

A zap coursed through his body as his fingers made contact. It was exactly what it looked like, and he thought he might have just found out where all that energy went. It was the rib-bone the blacksmith had snapped off, which he'd been keeping in his inventory—and it was now back in his inventory! Just from a touch. He hadn't even placed it there!

The System's description no longer called it a natural treasure, and Alex felt breathless again from coming into contact with it. He thumped back on his ass, taking a moment to process. The Lost Souls and the Blacksmith, they were connected. Then when Sanity had spoken of him receiving someone's blessing… that had to have been it, right?

"Fuck me…"

Alex massaged his temple. What the hell was going on?

Had that ritual turned him into a conduit somehow? Had all that energy flowing through him flowed right through to the bone?

No… not all of it.

He touched his stomach and felt it there in his diaphragm. His core. His Divine Core. Knowledge and Logic gave him no answers; his guesses were only shots in the dark. What he did know was that a Divine Core sat whole and unshattered in the center of his being. He laughed, still in disbelief. It should be Zhao Yuxuan in his place right now. Elizabeth Ainsworth, or maybe even Camilla. How in God's name was it him? Alex "The Wandering Smith" Smith was the last person this should've happened to.

Then again, it had always been that way. He'd never yearned for the limelight, but drama always managed to find him on its fringes. It was a cursed fate. But now that he'd done his time, he was receiving… blessings?

A second life. A Divine Core. An awakened trait…

No, that last one wasn't just a blessing. It had strings attached.

Except, who's to say that the others didn't? Invisible strings, casting him as a puppet under the mere illusion of free will.

The possibility filled Alex with existential dread. The same that he'd been driven to such lengths to defy in the first place. It wasn't logical. Too many coincidences had brought him here for it all to be by design. Yet, those coincidences were exactly what made him so anxious. The Blacksmith had manipulated him. Was he the only one? The first? Would he be the last?

One Truth.

Alex didn't know, but for the first time he might actually have a way of finding certainty. Defying fate wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Making his own was a lot more appealing. He may have been manipulated, but in return he'd been helped. If he became stronger, and if he figured out his trait—and mastered it…

Well, good things might happen. Maybe. He was peering again through the oculus and it occurred to him hope should be saved for when he was in less hopeless circumstances. He couldn't let his mood swing like a pendulum from one extreme to the next. He already had one foot in the grave; he'd need to be grounded to take the next step forward. "A calm mind steers the fiery heart," or however Lionheart had phrased it.

The man had also told him not to waste the gift he'd been given, and if Alex couldn't defeat the Bloodmist Assassin, that's exactly what he'd be doing.

His thoughts turned back toward his Divine Core. He… didn't actually know what a Divine Core was. They uh, ordinarily belonged to divinities, but he couldn't for the life of him tell what was so divine about it. Afterall, he'd never had a regular core to compare it with; one that wasn't broken at least.

He supposed that his own was a good enough comparison to start with though. He directed his attention inward and at first it seemed his soul-sense had gotten worse, but it was more likely that his Core had greatly expanded. That should be a good thing, but the heat he sensed from his sun was still only embers. The electric blaze of divine fire he remembered compressing during the ritual now felt out of his grasp. He got the vague sense his core was still at odds with the rest of his being. Which made sense. He wasn't a god, just a relatively untalented mortal with an odd assortment of hereditary gifts.

More significantly… The manual he'd used for Core Formation, Fallen Feather of the Phoenix, only detailed the first step: The Feather Falls. Apparently that was all that was needed for Core Formation, but if he wanted to take his path any further then where should he go from there? There was a second step, but the manual only gave its title. The actual instructions were probably in a sequel somewhere, which he obviously never got his hands on.

Grumbling, Alex tousled his hair with his good arm until a thought struck him. That energy from the ritual was being generated by the Lost Souls themselves. Were they gone because they spent their life-force?

No, Sanity hadn't spoken as though they were gone for good. It was an eerie thought besides—that he'd formed his core by burning the energy of deceased souls. Energy itself was a loose term, anyway. What had that been exactly? Essence? Aura? No, it had felt different from anything Alex had ever experienced. Power felt like the only attributing term he could give it. Or, well, energy. There had been some Essence too though, that he definitely remembered refining into his core. He'd been supercharged, afterall, but again—that Essence went nowhere. It seemingly just disappeared. Except it couldn't have disappeared. It had to have gone somewhere. Was it still within his core then?

He didn't know.

His senses had been so overwhelmed it was hard to place what had actually happened. Perhaps he'd only ever been refining the Essence and that strangely "Energy" had only served to stabilize his body for Core Formation. His body was a mortal body afterall. Even if that was true, all that energy couldn't have just disappeared either. Then maybe it had simply flowed into the bone like he guessed? At the very least, he reckoned he'd be feeling a lot different if it was still inside him…

"Arrgh!"

Alex groaned, tousling his hair. These were all just bad guesses. Maybe it'd been naive in the first place to think he could form a divine core in a mortal body. Sanity had spoken of others they'd tried this with, but had they all had Divine Cores too? He doubted it. So maybe the Lost Souls just made some improvisations? Whose to say even they knew what they were doing?

Gathering his wits, Alex stood and shone some light over the runic formation. He still couldn't make head or tail of any of it, but he knew someone that might. He snapped some pictures. Then, noticing that the dome-shaped room was illustrated with more of those pictograph-like runes, he took a short video, and turned his attention to something much simpler to understand. Notifications.

[Weapon Mastery] with Nychta increased.

Progress to Rank Adept: 62%

He must have received this one when he'd combined his soul with Nychta's. It usually raised itself in combat, but the feeling that she was an extension of his limb had grown stronger and was now his base-state of being with her. Each step toward the next rank was significant since that was when he unlocked weapon-arts.

But after the talk with Lionheart, he could just tell that she wasn't ready for that yet. He had a feeling he knew what had to happen to get her there and when he felt her start to investigate, he quickly put it out of mind.

His attention was elsewhere now.

Would you like to integrate your Core with the System?

Yes / No

Before he'd fallen down this ravine, he would've said yes without hesitating. There were some significant benefits and no downsides to doing so.

But if he accepted, he would once again consign himself to the System's censorship. That was the one of the Lost Soul's purposes for having him forming his core, and as nervous as their mysterious agenda made him, he would fulfill the deal and see his part of this through.

He selected "no," sighing as he—

Are you sure you would like not to integrate your Core with the System?

Yes / No

What?

What was this? He'd just said no, dammit!

Would you like to integrate your Core with the System?

Yes / No

The original notification reappeared. Alex felt a brief panic, then realized he was supposed to have answered "yes" to the follow-up notification, after saying "no" to the original. And now, he was back at the original. It was very, very important he didn't mix this up. He forced himself to take a deep breath, second-guessing the meaning of "yes" and "no" too many times before calmly selecting "no" once again.

Are you sure you would like not to integrate your Core with the System?

Yes / No

…Yes.

This action will make it impossible to integrate your Core with the System. Are you sure you would like to proceed?

Ye–

Yes, goddammit!

This thing was persistent. Jesus Christ.

Understood.

Alex took a second to recover from his brief panic attack. Then he looked up through the oculus in the chamber's ceiling, where the moon was visible against the night sky. All these plots, the schemes of beings far stronger than him, the tragic war the Lost Souls were fighting, this random, chaotic mess he'd been thrown into…

For now, none of that mattered.

What mattered was who was up there, staring at that same moon. The Blood Mist Assassin, enjoying the view of his last night alive.

* * *

Before the battle ahead of him, there was one more problem Alex had to solve. Gloomy. He had to figure out how to handle her. His feelings on the matter were… complicated to say the least, and there was no easy solution to this mess he'd made.

He snapped a few photos of the runes lining the hallways to distract himself, then turned off his flashlight to preserve his phone's battery. In the dark he bumped his head and shoulders against the jagged rock like he had the first time, and eventually decided to turn the flashlight back on. He knew he'd reached his destination when he felt a spiteful, bitter killing intent directed his way.

"On my soul! The deadbeat's back! Really? You had a lantern this whole time? And you didn't give it to the crippled girl who saved your life? Oh, don't be bothered by me—I'll be okay. My legs are just a little chewed to your mother's grave and back from saving you! But go on, please, keep ignoring me! Unless you just came back here to slit my—Aghh! You cunt! Point it away from my eyes!"

Alex lowered his phone. "Sorry."

"Sorry?! Is that all you have to—"

"Wait," he put out his hand. "Before we go down this rabbit hole I have some questio—"

"Yeah, me too!" Gloomy shouted. "Starting with where the gods were you? And does it really take that long to stroke it? Or was the real struggle getting it up in the first place, you limp-dicked—"

Alex pinched his eyes, tuning Gloomy out until she got it all out of her system. Yeah, there was no way this girl was a day over seventeen, mentally speaking. Alyssa was far more mature in comparison.

"And no! Before you open your disgusting mouth, those aren't my actual questions! I still have a point from that stupid game of yours and I—"

"It was Corvus," Alex finally said.

Gloomy went suddenly quiet. Then her eyes turned red, boring into him. "What… was Corvus?"

"She betrayed you. Offered me a deal to kill you last night. I rejected it, so we ended up at the bottom of a ravine together. That answer should be enough to satisfy whatever question you were going to ask." He shrugged, wincing again at his shoulder. "And I wasn't jacking it, by the way. That kind of thing is unfulfilling after finding someone you belong with. Say, Gloomy, have you ever fallen in love before?"

She just stared at him, open-mouthed.

"Then why would you reject her offer? Are you stupid?"

Alex sighed. "Is that the part you're stuck on?"

"And here I was starting to respect you a little," she spat. "Let me guess, she said you had to undo the contract? Is your pride so wilted as trampled grass? I thought you hated vampires?!"

"The fact that this doesn't surprise you tells me I was right to be cautious. And I do hate vampires. Don't forget I was about to torture—" He dragged a hand down his face. "Oh, why am I doing this? Sure, let's just say I wimped out because of trust issues."

She glared.

"Anyway, forget the point system," Alex said, "It was stupid, I know that. Even adults can be immature sometimes. But I'm going to be open now and answer your questions honestly, so—"

"In other words, you've finally made up your stinking ox-brained mind to kill me!" she screamed. "You think you can dangle a bit of truth in front of me and I'll just spread my legs with answers? May the devil take you, Alex! I see through all your nasty tricks! And the worst part is you still think I was lying when I said—"

"I believe you," Alex said.

"You… what?"

He sat down, expressing to her his sincerity. "I believed you when you said you were a thrall. And I believed you when you said you killed your grandmother with your own hands. I believe it all, Gloomy."

Her expression faltered for only a second. Then she bit into her lip fiercely.

"You… you think you're clever, don't you? Stop trying to gain my—"

"Christ," Alex muttered. "I should've just done this from the start."

He shuffled forward so he was directly in front of Gloomy. She growled at him. This girl was deranged—clearly traumatized. He'd seen it from the start, even on the night they first met, after the first scenario had finished. How had he ever thought putting her under his control could end amicably? But it was too late for regrets now.

She eyed his sword and spat. "Make it quick or you'll regret it."

"No promises."

"You—!"

"Gloomy," Alex interrupted. "I know you won't trust anything I say but just answer this. Did you believe me when I said I hate vampires?"

"Lop off my head and I just might—"

"Dammit!" Alex pinched his temple. "Stop fucking around, Gloomy. Listen to my words just this once. Look me in the eyes!"

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Gloomy did, meeting Alex's gaze with those red, beady eyes of hers. Her killing intent was fierce… but wounded. In it, he could feel bare traces of Anne's own. He could also see Gloomy's fangs more clearly this close, and his expression twisted out of his control into something ugly. She'd been made a vampire, and she looked exactly like Laura when he had shoved a blade through her heart. He had an impulse to do the same for her.

"I don't need you to trust me, Gloomy," he said, "but I need you to trust in my hatred. So tell me right now, do you believe I want that fucker up there—no, the entire Blood Lotus Clan—do you believe me when I say I want them dead? Do you believe that I want Anne's head as much as you do? Or am I lying?"

Gloomy hissed with a vehemence that never faded. That never would fade. Forget somehow attaining her cooperation—just letting her live was already more of a risk than he could afford, thanks to his own mistakes. He had ruined this.

"Don't fail Alex," she said. "If you do, I'll kill you again when we meet in hell."

Alex nodded. He summoned Nychta to his hand, preparing himself.

Then, reaching within his soul, he relinquished his part of the contract.

Gloomy's glare didn't fade, but her stare shifted askew to the empty space where her interface must have been. She blinked twice.

"What is this?" she asked.

"It's me admitting I made a mistake. And my apology for it."

"And your sword?"

"In case my apology isn't enough for you," he said frankly.

She didn't like that insinuation. His trait told him that clearly enough. It also told him something else in that instant—that they were at a crossroad, that their choices here held countless lives and deaths in the balance. That their fates were inevitably and irrevocably tied to each other.

He saw her nails sharpen in agitation and prepared to draw Nychta. Then he saw her eyes swivel up to the top of the cliffs, where their assassin waited ever so patiently. Finally, they returned to empty space between them in consternation, and it was only then that Alex saw any trace of fear in her expression.

"Will dissolving this contract hurt as much as the first time?" she asked.

Alex smiled weakly. "It will be worse."

* * *

By the time they had stopped spasming, they were both curled against opposite walls of the ravine, strings of vomit trailing from their mouths. He'd turned off his flashlight so they didn't have to share in eachother's suffering. Lionheart was wrong. Crying didn't make it feel any better.

Gloomy coughed, hacking violently. "Worse… was an understatement."

Alex groaned, dragging himself back against the opposite wall. "If you want to know why people always complete their contracts… this is why."

She had no further response. All her efforts were focused on recuperating. Truth be told, Alex had forgotten how bad it was. Having his blade at the ready had proven completely unnecessary. The instant the searing sensation began, the fight had gone out of them both.

"So…" Alex said when he had breath. "Do you still want to kill me?"

He brandished his sword defensively and felt Gloomy's killing intent spike violently. He vanished his sword, and the killing intent diminished slightly. He summoned Nychta again, and it was back.

Christ, this girl was like a cornered animal. Was she really that simple to figure out?

He vanished it again, a little amused.

"Can you… stop that?" she snapped.

"Sorry. That was pretty fucked up of me."

Gloomy didn't speak for a long time after that. Alex reckoned the pain from dissolving the contract had been a lot worse for her, given the state she was in. That was fine by him. His social battery was running low, and when she was angry, she talked way faster than his tired brain could keep up with. For better or worse, the shock and agony seemed to have given her time to collect herself.

Eventually, she asked the inevitable question.

"Why do you hate vampires?"

"Is it not enough to just know that I hate them?"

"After digging into my past? No way! Weren't you going to be open now or something?"

"Fair enough," Alex said, grimacing. "It's not that dissimilar to your own experience. I loved someone. Anne turned her into a thrall and made us fight, so I killed her."

"And she didn't enslave you afterward?" Gloomy questioned skeptically.

"No. She was preoccupied. And apparently, I was also too boring."

"I've decided I believe you there."

"Yeah, thanks."

This also confirmed something in Alex's mind. Gloomy had said she was over a century old, and since learning she was a thrall, that fact began to fall more in line with her behavior. The fact that she couldn't prove or disprove his story probably meant she hadn't been fully cognizant for most of that time. Or maybe Anne had just had so many thralls that she wouldn't have bothered recognizing them all. Either were plausible enough.

It was a pitying story, but he knew pity was the last thing Gloomy wanted from him. Rather, what she wanted right now was quite plain and clear.

"How are we killing him?" she asked.

"I uh… have a few ideas. But first, we should address the obvious."

Her eyes went to Alex's left arm. He shone his flashlight at her mangled legs. Something had been bothering him earlier, and as he saw her pale skin, the thought resurfaced.

"Gloomy, you haven't been drinking any blood, have you?"

She snorted. "Why would I?"

That was a question Alex didn't know how to answer. Vampires couldn't eat normal food, they got all their sustenance from their victim's blood. There must have been time for her to loop back for one of the bodies they'd left while he was sleeping. But… he knew why she didn't.

She'd become so pale and feeble because she'd refused to. And eventually, it'd driven her so mad with hunger that she'd taken a bite of him.

He sighed. "I know why you haven't been drinking blood Gloomy. But the fact that you haven't is the reason why your legs stopped healing, right?"

She scowled at him. "What about your wound?"

"It's… not good, at all. But at least it won't limit my mobility. You, though… with your legs like this, I'd be better off leaving you down here than dragging you around as I fight."

"No!" she yelled. "I'd rather be dead than wait around like some weakling!"

"Yeah… that's what I thought. Do you have another health potion then?"

"I-I do, but…"

"But it's not the real issue, is it?"

Her silence was enough of an answer. Alex grimaced, then stood, approaching her with a knife.

"Don't!" she growled.

"It's either this or I leave you behind," he said. "I don't like it any better than you do but make your decision."

She glared at him, then her eyes lost their defiance. She lowered them, trembling slightly, hesitating. But before long, she lifted her head and opened her mouth wide.

He put his knife to his wrist.

"Can… Can you not look at me like I'm a worm?" Gloomy asked.

"...Sorry."

He sliced open his wrist. Blood began to drizzle out.

Vampirism for a thrall was like an affliction with no cure. It wasn't her choice, and technically she still retained her humanity. She didn't deserve his disgust. He turned his head, pretending he was just watering a plant or something.

"I…I need more…"

He deepened the wound. The only sound in the ravine's misty darkness was the steady drip of blood. He tried to imagine it came from an imaginary lake further inward rather than from his wrist. Water dripping from ancient stalactites.

The lake gulped in satisfaction. Grinding his teeth, he took a deep breath as a weak voice echoed.

"Just… leave me alone, please," Gloomy said. "For a bit."

She had tears in her eyes. Alex tried to mask his expression, but he knew some of his pity had slipped through when he saw that. He left, crossing to the other side of the ravine until he found more tunnels in that direction, too. To take his mind off things, he pulled out his journal and began sketching the unfamiliar runes in greater detail.

By the time he returned, her legs were already starting to heal. He got the sense she didn't want to face him right now, so he switched off his flashlight again.

She… really was just a girl.

In the dark, they existed for a long while in silence.

"Hey, Alex…" she murmured eventually.

"Yeah?"

"You know I'll never forgive you, right?"

"I know."

It may be he deserved whatever she had in mind, but he'd defend himself if he had to.

A few seconds passed in silence.

"Why do you think he hasn't come down to finish us?" she asked.

Alex thought for a second on how to answer that. "He won't for eight hours."

He couldn't see in the dark like she could, but he could practically feel her staring. He shrugged. "I did some investigating. Found out a few things."

"So you hadn't just left me down here as bait?" she asked.

"I… Oh." Oh shit… He could've communicated that better. "Uh… no. Earlier, I just walked off cause, well—aw, fuck it. My, uh… ghost friends—you know the ones—wanted to meet with me. We chatted, and it turns out the only route in or out of here is hidden by some obfuscating mists. It should last for another eight hours or so."

"Your… what?"

"It's complicated. Sorry for leaving you in the dark, Gloomy, but I wasn't abandoning you. You know, I was still contracted to protect you, right?"

"Well, you aren't now!" she snapped. "How do I know you don't plan to backstab me?!"

"I told you, didn't I? You don't have to trust me as a person. I don't trust you either, Gloomy, but I know how much you want revenge. Don't you want to see Anne's face when she learns her favorite tool has broken?"

"Who do you think you're asking? I'm going to rip his head off and give it to her on a spike!"

Alex nodded. "Well, in any case, our odds aren't great. We need a solid plan, and like I said, I have a few ideas. But first, I need to know your abilities."

"You're asking about my abilities?" She scoffed. "Why don't you start with yourself, you cunt? On my soul, what even are you? Possessed Clay-master Swordsmen?!"

"No. Pottery is just a hobby of mine."

"And the possession? Or is that just cause you're a devil-worshipper?"

Alex rubbed his temple. "Just an unfortunate affliction. I'm slightly more susceptible to being possessed than normal people, but it's not part of my skill set. No… I'm something like a blacksmith-warrior hybrid. My skills are mostly just basic combat techniques. My class lets me wield the swords I make more efficiently, and I'm experienced in swordplay, so I rely on that. Aside from that, I'm good with stealth and I'm passable at enchantments."

Alex shifted uncomfortably in the silence. A rock had been digging into his thigh.

"That's…all? Don't lie to me, Alex. That can't be all. Aren't you a mage?!"

He'd told her multiple times he wasn't, but he could already feel her rebuttal coming, so he sent her a slightly censored display of his status screen.

"No, I worked at a call center."

Gloomy's silence stretched uncomfortably long, and Alex realized she didn't know what that meant. He sighed. "That thing I called a phone is a piece of technology that lets me communicate over long distances. Shorthand, those are called calls. A call center is a place that specializes in receiving calls, and my job was to help people sort out their issues."

"Creepy… And that's where you learned swordsmanship?"

"Something like that," he said. "Anyway, that's enough about me—"

"No, what about that weird sword of yours? The one I saw you stab yourself with!"

"Nychta?" Alex asked. "Please refrain from calling her weird."

Unwanted, Nychta communicated in private.

"Then what did it do!" Gloomy pressed. "Why didn't you die?"

Alex sensed some disappointment in her last question. He could also feel Nychta bristling at being called it, but he calmed her mentally. "She can cut into the soul directly if she touches flesh, but it has to be lethal or consentual to be a severing blow. If it's a severing blow, she'll also pass through non-organic matter. Against undead, she can cleanse body parts and render them useless, but it doesn't work as well against the living. Maybe it'll work better against vampires." He shrugged. "I haven't experimented with that yet."

"She seems a lot more useful than you," Gloomy muttered after a moment.

Like, Nychta said.

No Nychta, you're not supposed to be happy at that.

Alex sighed. "Anyway, that's enough about me. You were a witch, right? Before you became a vampire?"

"An herbalist," she said vehemently.

"You know, being a witch is not as taboo as it used to—"

"I was an herbalist!" She insisted.

"Right… and, uh… what about the whole hexing thing you have going on?"

Alex was starting to get a feel for Gloomy through the silences she left. He could still roughly make out her shape and he thought he saw her looking downcast again.

"It's dark magic. My grandma would kill me if she knew… but I didn't have a choice! None of the herbs I grew up using exist here! And I didn't have my tools!"

"Hey, hey, relax," Alex said. "I'm not persecuting you. I'm just trying to see what we're working with here. And I mean, I thought what you did to that chimik was pretty cool. Definitely crazy, a little scary too, but…"

He trailed off. He couldn't tell how his compliments were being received, but he'd never seen magic like that—at least, not with such an insane implementation. His mind started whirring, trying to figure out exactly how it worked. There was something about it that seemed familiar, though he couldn't put his finger on it.

He coughed. "Sorry, I got lost in thought. So, I know that you can reflect the damage you take, and… you can also paralyze enemies. But you have to make a doll for them first, right? With hair and blood. Are there any other conditions?"

"How do you even know all this?" Gloomy asked.

Alex scratched the back of his head. "We fought together. And, I mean, you said as much when you made that doll for me. What was it… 'A soul without a body has to be tethered to something'? Is that what those dolls are for?"

She clicked her tongue. "They're mediums."

Mediums?

"I have to tether both my own soul and theirs to the mediums," she continued. "Through hair, blood, guts, or anything I can use. For small things, hair or blood is fine, but when I tethered my soul to that chimik, I had to use the blood it drew from wounding me directly. And binding us still took time—like you so gratefully pointed out. It's not something I can just do."

Alex was lost in thought. So her hexes weren't very versatile without preparation. And if she wanted to get the most use of them, he had to buy her time? That had worked fine against the Chimik, but against the assassin… No, even before that, they'd have to get a sample of his blood. Then he'd have to wound her without killing her. Those were tall tasks.

"Well, you made one, didn't you? A doll."

An object blurred in the dark, and Alex caught it, turning back on his flashlight. Sure enough, it was a doll in the Assassin's build. And… it was stained red. The Blood Mists, he realized. Right, she could just gather it from the Blood Mists. That was something.

"It's not good enough," Gloomy said. "He never shows his face, so the doll is already a bad medium. Then, forgetting the barriers to even establishing our connection—even if I did, his regeneration is stronger than mine."

"Right, you'd have to settle for being a nuisance."

Still, disturbing his movement could make a big difference, even if she would wear down faster as a result. The problem is, it would be difficult to get him to wound her safely, as in, without her dying. If they could, then it just came down to whether Alex could afford to cover her absence for the necessary amount of time. Well, it was worth considering as an option.

All this soul-binding and damage-reflection stuff had his mind drifting to Nychta. He felt there was an idea wriggling around in his brain somewhere, but he couldn't quite place it.

"Hmm… all right," he said. "Then, aside from that, there's your stealth skill, your relics, and your vampire abilities let you manipulate your blood—"

"Don't talk to me about that," Gloomy said.

Alex held up his hands. "Well, anything else you can do? I know Nightmare seems like a dead planet, but some of these plants probably have medicinal or magical properties, right?"

She shrugged. "So? I still wouldn't know what to do with them! My grandmother's compendiums weren't written for this place and it's not like Inspect will tell me anything useful."

"No, not inspect, Gloomy," he shook his head in exasperation. "Examine! Are you telling me you never went through the common skill index?"

"The common… what?"

Alex saw Gloomy furrow her brows in confusion, her pointer finger clumsily interacting with the air. Ah… no wonder. This girl was technologically challenged, wasn't she?

"Right… there's probably a lot about the modern world you don't know. A lot of the System's mechanics are similar to video games, and—wait, you don't know what those are, do you?"

She glowered at him. There was a very clear disconnect between their knowledge banks. Was this why she had ignored him when he tried making idle conversation?

"What," she said testily.

"Well, you know, it's like gamifying the world around you. Like how our stats have numbers, or our growth is measured in levels."

"Do I look stupid? Even I know basic arithmetic!"

"No, it's like… well, I guess those examples are just quantitative, but what about this whole quest… no, never mind. Just, share your interface, I'll show you how to get there."

Gloomy didn't seem to like appearing clueless, but she relented, and Alex spent the next five minutes teaching her how to use her interface properly. Working at a call center had sounded a lot more badass the way he'd told it to her. In reality, it was more like sitting around doing this all day—no sword swinging involved. He wasn't about to change his story, though.

"...Thanks," she muttered, so quietly he almost didn't hear it.

"You're welcome. I hope having Examine helps a little, though… it doesn't really do anything for us now. Hm… then I guess the only other weapon on hand is my Enchanting. I just completed my Core, so there should be more I can do with it, but with the time we have…"

"Wait, your core? So you are a mage!"

Alex scratched his head.

"Something like that," he said. "It was a prerequisite for the call center I worked at."

He waited to see if she'd catch the lie, but shockingly, it went through without issue. Still, laying everything out before him, Alex realized they didn't have much to work with against a Nightmare like the Blood Mist Assassin. His best advantage really was his memories. He hadn't been there when Eric had finally killed him, but he'd fought against him the first time. Now, facing him again, there were plenty of lessons to take away.

For one, he'd have to ensure all his wounds were properly sealed. The Blood Mists were an asinine ability and they only got worse the more wounded you were. After dealing with that…

Alex rocked back and forth, his brain churning out several countermeasures he could take against the Assassin's abilities. But even as a plan formed in his head, something felt missing. What they had to work with was not enough.

He already planned to upgrade his Enchant and Stealth skills, and with the time left he might be able to rank up one or two others, or add another combat skill to his arsenal, but even then…

Alex sighed and shifted against the ravine's rough wall. His left hand touched something slick and sticky. Was that… his blood?

"Ah! Gloomy, could you use my blood from when the Assassin injured me—"

"No," she said. "I only know how to do it for myself."

Ah. So much for that idea.

He sighed. "Damn. Then if I need something new, it's gotta be from my Enchanting, huh?"

Gloomy balked at him. "Are you stupid?"

"Last I checked, no. Why?"

"Because you're acting all defeated! That's why!"

"It's not defeatist to evaluate these things strategically," he countered.

"You're afraid," she said. "You've let him into your head, and consigned your soul to the devil. Didn't I already tell you that you creep me out more than him?"

"Gee, thanks Gloomy. What about it?"

"What about it?!" She—cause she could do that now—stomped her feet, huffing. "So just do something creepy!"

Just do something creepy.

"Well, that's just an excellent battle pla—"

He cut off. No, it wasn't. It was pretty shitty advice, but it occurred to him just then that he was going about this the wrong way. There was no need to expand his arsenal with the time he had left. He was poor at Enchanting, and no runic formations he picked up on the fly would be game-changers. Even the Divine Core he'd just formed wouldn't do anything for him without time and practice.

Rather than expanding his abilities outward…

I should just be doing more with what I have, huh.

Something creepy, as Gloomy had put it. Even simple abilities could be devastatingly effective under the right circumstances. Instead of learning something new, shouldn't he delve deeper into what he already had?

Something simple, yet devastatingly effective…

"Ah."

And just like that, the final piece clicked into place.

"What?" Gloomy asked.

Alex chuckled. "I know how we're going to kill him."

"Finally," she spat.

But for all the venom in her voice, he also sensed her eagerness. He was eager too, despite the fear that he still carried. Gloomy had all rights to her revenge, and so did he. And they'd both waited far too long to enact it.

He craned his neck. Far above them, beyond the depths of the ravine, Alex felt a set of eyes watching him—hungry, crimson moons. Laura wouldn't be watching over him as he began his vengeance. She wasn't there.

But that's fine. I'm doing this for me.

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