Then they fell into quiet, sitting there together for a while, the woman's silent grief and Lucid's exhaustion mixing uncomfortably in the charged air between them.
The rain continued falling steadily, indifferent to whatever cosmic revelations had just surfaced within that narrow alley. Water pooled around their feet, running toward the drainage grate that led further into the slums below.
'She's still processing everything,' Lucid thought, watching her carefully despite his own exhaustion pressing heavily against his consciousness. 'Give her time.'
The woman finally spoke, her voice low, all previous hostility drained from her tone.
"What happens now?" she asked. "With me, I mean. With what remains of my purpose here."
Lucid considered the question carefully, weighing his response against everything he'd witnessed throughout this entire ordeal.
"That depends on what you actually want," he said finally. "Not what Mercyros wanted for you. Not what some ancient scripture demands. What you personally want, moving forward from here."
She looked up at him, something vulnerable crossing her expression, the wrathful golden eyes softening into something more uncertain.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I've spent so long defined by my connection to him, to his authority, to whatever role I served within his domain's structure. Without that, I'm not entirely certain what remains."
"Then figure it out," Lucid said simply. "You have time now. Whatever forced timeline Mercyros operated under, whatever urgency drove his previous decisions, that's gone. You're free to determine your own path."
She studied him for a long moment, something calculating behind her expression despite the emotional exhaustion visible in her posture.
"But freedom is not as simple as you seem to make it," she said. "As though choosing one's own path doesn't carry its own complications."
"It doesn't have to be simple," Lucid replied. "It just has to be yours."
Alice remained quiet within his mind, though something in her silence felt approving rather than dismissive.
The woman rose slowly from her kneeling position, brushing dirt and grime from her silk dress with careful, deliberate movements.
"An associate of mine has a friend trapped inside the carcass of your domain," Lucid said, his voice dropping, stripped of all warmth until every word sounded like a bolt sliding into a lock. "You can start by digging him out."
He turned his back on her, leaving the rest of the threat unspoken in the damp air.
Lucid made his way back toward the open market, leaving her behind in the alley. The role had significantly changed since he first arrived here. He had come broken, confused, carrying an illness he barely understood. And somehow, he had purged this deep-rooted town of its malice while collapsing in the shadows himself.
He looked at the grimoire clutched in his hand.
'This thing might not be as much of a curse as I thought,' he considered.
"It's super duper useful," Lucid muttered aloud, touching the hem of the grimoire's leather binding.
The skull embossed on its cover had two eyes carved wide open, resembling crystal pearls that seemed to catch whatever light existed around them, shining back at him with unsettling clarity.
"Lucid, I do not like it," Alice said within his mind.
He flipped through the pages absently.
"It's weird," he said, "how the more I flip through these pages, the older it seems to become, like a certain point in time just—" He trailed off, uncertain how to finish the observation.
His fingertip brushed against a page.
It was empty.
"It's a relic," he muttered.
"Of what rank?" Lucid wondered aloud.
"Not certain," Alice admitted, "but it possesses equal magnitude to—"
His ears perked up, listening for the voice that couldn't be heard from outside but resonated clearly inside his head.
"Me," she finished.
"You," Lucid repeated.
"Must be pretty low rank then," he spat, unable to resist the jab.
"I urge you to take those words back," Alice said, indignation evident even through their mental connection.
"No?" Lucid replied. "You said you were going to stop talking to me, and honestly, I don't miss your silly remarks."
"You have become far too comfortable," Alice remarked, though her tone carried something playful now rather than genuine irritation.
"Oh please," Lucid shot back, a grin tugging at his lips despite everything he'd just endured. "You're the one who can't stay away for more than three days. Miss me that much, sweetheart?"
Alice managed a soft giggle mixed with something resembling a sigh. "Is that so? It signifies a healthy, trustworthy relationship, does it not, Lucid?"
"Trustworthy," he repeated, amusement clear in his internal tone. "Is that what we're calling it now? Last I checked, you were threatening to crush my heart if I didn't do as exactly as you wished for."
"That was different," Alice said primly. "Purely educational concern regarding your survival instincts."
"Sure it was," Lucid snorted. "Educational concern. Right."
"Besides," Alice continued, her tone shifting into something unexpectedly teasing, "I am not opposed to the concept of polyamorous relationships, given my divine nature transcends such trivial mortal restrictions."
Lucid nearly tripped over his own feet.
'Wait, what?'
"I understand your mortal desires to mate as a human," Alice continued smoothly, apparently entirely unbothered by his sudden internal panic. "It would be rather hypocritical of me to demand exclusivity while simultaneously acknowledging that biological imperative."
"I — that's not—" Lucid sputtered internally, completely thrown off balance by the sudden turn in conversation. "Where is this even coming from?"
"You brought up the topic of comfort levels," Alice said, sounding entirely too pleased with herself. "I simply wished to clarify my position on the matter, given how flustered you seemed regarding that oni companion of yours moments ago."
"I wasn't flustered!"
"Your internal monologue suggests otherwise, my chosen."
Lucid groaned audibly, drawing a curious glance from a nearby merchant setting up her stall for the day.
'This is exactly why I shouldn't engage her in banter,' he thought grimly. 'She always finds a way to turn it around on me.'
He stepped past a crowd of people betting enthusiastically on some kind of scorpion race, their voices rising and falling with excitement as creatures scuttled across a makeshift arena.
He remembered similar scenes from when he had first arrived here, people betting wildly on outcomes while someone with a particularly sharp, rude attitude confidently predicted winners as though channelling divine revelation itself.
Lucid walked past crowded stalls, weaving through the market with practiced ease.
He passed by the slums next, and the transformation struck him immediately. Things had started looking considerably more lively here. No more visible tension hanging in the air. No more suspicious glances following strangers through narrow streets.
He walked closer, observing the changes with quiet satisfaction.
Lucid eventually stopped by the harbor, the salty breeze carrying the scent of fish.
Lucid looked back immediately, scanning behind him.
He turned fully, searching the crowd.
"Are you going to ignore me?" Alice pressed.
"You said you would for three days anyway," Lucid replied dryly. "Nothing to worry too much about apparently, given how that promise held up."
"Why are you looking back?" Alice asked, venturing a probe for an answer.
Lucid didn't particularly answer, but judging by the thread of fate and fate essence he detected lingering in the air, he knew it was probably someone he already knew.
It was just that he had never sensed this particular type of fate essence before, something unfamiliar despite the recognition.
Soon after, they found themselves standing before a massive carved residence that looked distinct from any other structure in Port Vexis.
It was as if this particular building belonged to an entirely different place, an entirely different culture altogether.
Lucid knocked on the door.
Once.
Twice.
No answer came.
"Hmmm, no one appears to be inside," Alice remarked.
Lucid looked at the place again, studying it more carefully this time.
The door was open. Slightly ajar. He hadn't noticed it before.
"Someone forced their way inside this place," he muttered, understanding settling into his gut with cold clarity.
A form of a long shaft materialized within his grip, chains coiling tight around the summoned weapon.
He didn't bother channeling the residual power he'd absorbed from the black hole encounter. He doubted whatever intruder had done this possessed particularly high combat experience, not given the sloppy nature of the forced entry.
He pushed the door open further with his foot, weapon raised, senses alert for any immediate threat lurking within the darkened interior.
Lucid stepped inside, opening the door.
Nothing.
Everything had been arranged neatly.
"You are intruding inside a residence that does not belong to you," Alice remarked, her tone carrying pointed disapproval.
He knew that already.
"What is it," Lucid said, focus fixed elsewhere.
"Hush," Lucid murmured.
"Don't you dare hush me," Alice retorted immediately, sharp irritation cutting through her voice.
Lucid stopped moving.
"No one is here," he said. "They already left."
But he recalled, during his time as a patient, how Xing Xiu had possessed shelves of resources and boxes neatly stacked one atop another near the entrance, tools and supplies for whatever healing methods she employed.
They were no longer there.
"Do you know this person?" Alice asked.
"Just an old collaborator," Lucid replied.
Alice hummed thoughtfully. "You are omitting something."
"That he was much more useful than you at healing," he said flatly.
He felt a sharp pang of pain erupt within his skull, sudden and vicious, causing his head to slam directly into the door frame.
"Ouch," he hissed.
"You fucking—" he started.
Alice spoke, her tone dripping with mock innocence. "Did my chosen just swear? How sinful of you."
He stepped back outside through the door, head throbbing with residual pain. She had clearly manipulated something within his Chain of Heart connection, deliberately amplifying every ounce of sensation just to prove a point.
"Geez," Lucid muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple gingerly.
"What was that," she demanded.
"Nothing," Lucid said quickly, entirely too pleased with himself despite the denial.