Moxten's pulse hammered in his ears as he pushed deeper into Illarea. Twenty men moved with him—seasoned, dangerous knights, each one at the Astral Forger realm. Still, not a single one of them was dumb enough to get cocky and risk drawing the ghouls' attention.
Because there was no faster ticket to hell.
"There's a colony of dust eaters a few meters south," the scout murmured. With a bloodline that sharpened his senses, scouting was his burden whether he liked it or not.
Moxten glanced at the compass in his hand. The needle still pointed toward the Seer. Luckily, Zarvenik had copied her Cosmic mark before she slipped away, so tracking her this time shouldn't be such a nightmare.
"We keep heading north," Moxten said quietly. "Watch for strays."
They moved slower now, every footstep measured.
Then came the sound—a faint rustle from the dirt.
A warped, fleshy thing that almost looked human erupted from the ground, latching its teeth into a knight's arm. The man gritted his teeth, ripped his sword free, and slashed across the creature's throat.
It went still… its eyes dulling to lifeless pits.
Killing dust eaters was a delicate job. Anyone stupid enough to use Cosmic Dust against them was practically writing their own death sentence. Their real danger wasn't their strength—it was how many of them there could be. You had to kill them quick, clean, and quiet… before the stray called for the rest.
"Nice work with that throat slash, Exyralis. One wrong move and that could've gone to hell fast," Moxten said before turning and leading the men deeper into the deathland. Their footsteps grew quieter, every step measured.
***
Lunera stepped away from the tree, her gaze shifting to Jenera, whose face was a perfect mask of nerves.
"Hey, Lunera… everything's okay, right?" Jenera asked.
Lunera didn't answer. She let out a slow breath and whispered a single word.
"Eclipsera."
The world froze.
In the next instant, everything shifted. She was somewhere else—an endless expanse of black glass stretching forever in every direction. Reflected across its surface were countless realities, each shaped by choices and possibilities, each ending differently.
She took a step forward. Her footsteps echoed before they even landed, as if time itself was running ahead of her. Thin silver threads wove across the glass floor, twisting and rearranging themselves with every choice made in the universe.
At the center stood a throne of fractured glass, its shape constantly changing—flowing like liquid, reforming again and again. Towering beings, so massive they dwarfed even her home's highest towers, knelt as she approached. Their power was so immense it made reality itself shiver.
She sat.
A book shimmered into existence before her. A quiver appeared in her hands.
"All hail the Fatebreaker," the kneeling giants intoned, their voices rumbling through the infinite space. "For no fate hidden in time shall escape your hand."
Lunera had heard them say those words every time she sat on the throne, but she still had no clue what they meant. So, in her mind, they were just her big uncles with a flair for dramatic speeches, and she left it at that.
Now, it was time to deal with those bad men.
She let her intent roll through the realm like a tide and began writing in the book.
The ink danced across the pages, and down below, the pale silver threads lit up—twisting, shifting, rewriting paths.
When she finished, the words on the page shifted into an unfamiliar script. She'd never seen the language before, but somehow she could always read it.
Because you are still too weak, there will be a cost for the fate you seek to break. Six months of your Life Force will do.
Lunera frowned. This was new. There had never been a cost before. But six months? That was manageable. She had plenty of life force to spare.
The moment she agreed, the book snapped shut, and the silver threads below writhed and knotted in a frenzy.
She closed her eyes. The world bent. And then… it changed.
***
"We continue north, but keep your eyes open for strays," Moxten whispered.
The men moved with even more care now, every sound swallowed by the stillness.
Then it came—a faint rustle beneath their boots.
A warped, flesh-clad thing clawed its way out of the ground, latching its teeth into a knight's arm.
The knight gritted his teeth and swung for the creature's throat—but it was faster. Its fleshy arm shot up to block the blade, the sword slicing clean through the limb. The severed hand hit the ground with a wet slap.
Then the thing threw its head back and shrieked.
"Oh, shit," Moxten barked, bolting in the opposite direction. The rest of the knights didn't need telling twice—boots pounded the ground as the group scattered in panic.
Too late.
They burst straight into a wall of Dust Eaters. Hundreds of them.
Moxten swallowed hard, forcing a grin he didn't feel. "Alright, listen up! Someone has to make it out to tell His Majesty what kind of hell this place really is. The girl's probably dead already, so… as knights, lay down your lives with honor and let me escape!"
"You bastard son of an idiot!" one of the men roared. "I've hated you since the day I met you—the way you throw your weight around like you own the air we breathe! But this? You're even more of a slime-sucking egg rot than I thought!"
"How dare you whitewash me!" Moxten shot back, face red. "Better hope we don't survive this, or I'll kill you slowly. And memorably!"
"Shut up, both of you!" another knight snapped. "We're about to die, and you're bickering like children!"
"Uh… guys?" someone else called, voice trembling. "They're coming."
"Tankers, raise the shields!"
And then they hit.
The wave of dust eaters slammed into the front line with bone-cracking force. The shock was so violent that several tankers coughed blood instantly. Still, the wall held—barely. Everyone knew it wouldn't last. Without Cosmic Dust, there was no way to deal serious damage, and a battle of attrition against a colony only had one ending.
A cruel, ugly death.
Moxten's jaw clenched, sweat dripping down his face and pooling on the black soil. That's when he heard it—soft whispers, curling into his ears from somewhere beyond the chaos.
His heart sank. The ghouls.
The knights heard them too. Unease flickered across their faces, the kind that came from fighting something inside your own head.
The whispers grew louder, pressing into Moxten's mind until they weren't whispers at all—they were shouts, seductive and suffocating.
"Moxten, come, I love you!"
"We love you, Moxten!"
"One night of pleasure, and you'll never forget it!"
"Moxten! Come to me, honey!"
He shut his eyes tight, veins bulging across his forehead as he fought to think straight. Ghouls worked through suggestion—planting ideas in your mind until they felt real. He forced himself to remember the truth: whatever was calling him wasn't some irresistible beauty… it was rotting flesh with teeth.
And for now, that thought was the only thing keeping him sane.
The moment Moxten opened his eyes, he staggered back.
The tankers were down—eyes hollow, bodies shriveled to husks while Dust Eaters tore into their Cosmic reserves like starving beasts.
Moxten spun on his heel and bolted. Dust Eaters swarmed on all sides, but he ran anyway. He'd always been a survivor, and if that meant clawing his way through hell itself, then so be it.
"I'll destroy you all!" a knight roared, blood spraying from the stump where his arm had been torn away.
A shadow fell over the battlefield.
A colossal construct erupted into existence, towering above everything. Its body churned like a stormy ocean, waves of water twisting violently across its form. Lightning crackled along its surface, sparks snapping and dancing like angry fireflies. In its grip was a massive lance, a braid of wind, water, and lightning spiraling together in raw, beautiful power.
The giant roared and swung down at the swarm. The ground shook—then froze.
There was a reason none of the other Astral Forger knights had dared summon their constructs. Bloodlines could twist Cosmic Dust into water, wind, lightning—whatever shape they wanted—but at its core, it was still Cosmic Dust.
And to Dust Eaters, Cosmic Dust was food.
The colossal's strike never landed. Its arms vanished mid-swing as the swarm surged upward, devouring it in seconds. The blue glow of its body scattered into the air like torn silk, spinning away on the wind.
Dinner was served.
The chaos had bought Moxten a sliver of hope. He could almost see himself making it out alive.
"Just a little more," he muttered, shoving and slashing at the Dust Eaters clawing for him. "Almost ther—"
Pain exploded in his leg. He froze, staring in disbelief at the sword jutting through his thigh, blood pouring down in hot streams.
He turned his head.
There, half-buried in the swarm, was the knight he'd traded insults with earlier. Blood masked his face, but his eyes burned with a wild, hateful glint.
"There's no way I'm dying without you, bastard," the man rasped. "See you in hell."
Then his head slumped forward, and the swarm buried him completely, tearing into his Cosmic reserves until his body withered to nothing.
Moxten squeezed his eyes shut and tried to move, but his wounded leg was dead weight. He stumbled, crashed to the ground, and felt the swarm close in—gnawing at his reserves, draining him.
"I really need a drink." That was his last thought before the world went black.
***
Lunera opened her eyes. Jenera was still watching her with unease, so she gave a small nod to say everything was fine.
Jenera let out a shaky breath, scanning the trees around them. "Lunera, we can't stay here much longer. You might have a way to dodge the horrors of this place, but the death scent will kill us eventually."
Lunera tilted her head, puzzled. She didn't understand why her older sister relied on her so much—this was her first time leaving the tower. The death energy in the air barely bothered her, but if it was hurting Jenera… maybe it wasn't safe after all.
If she was the responsible one here, then she needed to find somewhere safe for both of them.
She closed her eyes, reaching out to sift through the threads of possibility, searching for the best outcome.
That's when she felt it.
The danger.
It surged through her like a cold flood, crushing the breath from her chest. For the first time in her life, Lunera felt fear.
It was the same wrongness she'd sensed before—but now it was sharper, heavier. It wrapped around her and squeezed until she was shaking. Tears blurred her vision, and a sob tore from her throat.
"Lunera, what's wrong? Talk to me!" Jenera's voice cracked.
Lunera clenched her eyes shut, trying to push the fear aside. For her sister's sake, she had to try… even if the feeling was ripping her heart apart.
Her whole body trembled as she searched desperately for the thread, the reality that carried this fear—but it was like chasing smoke. So close she could almost touch it, yet always just out of reach.
"Stop it, Lunera!" Jenera's voice broke into a scream. "You're bleeding—your eyes are bleeding!"
Lunera's trembling grew worse. She reached for her book in the pocket of her personal space, flipping it open with desperate hands. The ink swirled, then settled into words that made her stomach drop:
The cost of thwarting that outcome is your death.
Her eyes flew open. This time, the tears wouldn't stop.
"How utterly baffling," a voice drifted down from the sky.
Both sisters looked up. A Titan woman floated there—so breathtakingly beautiful it hurt to look at her. Her lips were curled into a vicious smile, cruelty glinting in her eyes like sharpened glass.
"Lunera, w-what do we do?" Jenera's voice trembled as she gripped her sister's hands.
Lunera turned to her, her own tears streaming. "I… we—"
Jenera's body burst into a red mist. One heartbeat she was there, the next there was nothing—no flesh, no bone, no trace but the metallic tang of blood in the air.
Lunera's breath caught. She looked back up at the Titan woman, her heart hammering so loud it filled her ears.
"I was supposed to capture you," the Titan said casually, studying her fingernails as if she hadn't just erased a life. "But after seeing your abilities a moment ago, I've changed my mind. I can stomach any outcome but you ending up in Daryls' hands. Capturing you for myself would anger my master."
Her smile widened, eyes narrowing with delight. "So… I guess the only choice is to let you die, tucked neatly under the perfect cover of the Death Land."
The chill spread through Lunera's body, sinking into her bones. For the first time, she could smell death woven into her fate.
"They say true geniuses don't live long," the Titan murmured. "Goodbye, little girl. I'll remember you."
She raised her forefinger. A white beam lanced toward Lunera's forehead.
Time slowed.
Lunera's gaze locked on the oncoming light, her mind strangely quiet. One thought rose to the surface—one she'd never dared to say out loud.
"I want my…"
The beam struck—but not her.
Something, or someone, had stepped in front of her and taken the hit. The world went white. The shockwave tore through the forest, setting the nearest trees ablaze.
"…Mommy."