Millie felt her consciousness pulled from her body.

It was an unusual sensation, to say the least. Much like being pulled apart physically. Only nothing ever snapped or tore, and nothing was shredded. It just felt similar. Eventually, she found herself so far away, to someplace so distant she couldn’t fathom it, and she lost all sense of connection with her body.

That was probably for the best; her last moments had felt slowed down, as though time was coming to a shuddering halt, yet it had still been amongst the most painful experiences of her life. What that meant for her body’s condition, she could only guess.

Soon, her mind grew clearer, and the darkness she’d fallen into crystallized, coming into focus with sharp contrast. It was like the shadows were being excised from a new reality loading around her.

Absently, she blinked, realizing that despite being present mentally she had something of a physical form. Lifting her hand, she could see a faint translucence to it, and looking down, she saw her ‘body’ appeared restored to its original, pre-pregnancy form. Only a soft glowing light from her abdomen showed where, even now, she could feel her son’s presence inside. It was the only light in the place she’d arrived, and it was distressingly faint.

“Welp, this is a pile of shit,” she muttered, dropping her ‘hand.’ Looking around, the area she was in was unfamiliar. It was a cavernous space, with stone walls covered in sharp edges and angles, much like the interior of some great cathedral. There was a soft yellow to the stone’s color, similar to some types of limestone, and she saw sparse decorations. Though it was so dark she couldn’t make much out; the light of her son’s soul was unable to illuminate more than a few yards with any real clarity.

What she could see, however, did not put her at ease.

Branching between support columns, covering the round, open doorways, and dangling from the ceilings was one unifying feature: cobwebs. They weren’t the ‘this place has been abandoned for eons’ kind either—they were large, thick stranded, pearlescent webs. Many even sported gems sewn into the strands, obviously with artistic intent. It was then that she finally saw what she feared would appear.

A spider walked out onto the webs, moving at a brisk pace.

Its shadowy form was distinguishable even from Millie’s distance. She wished it hadn’t. Seeing the arachnid made her gasp, reflexes she didn’t think she had made her want to jump back, waving her arms screeching. That same terror held her still though, especially when her reaction drew the creature’s attention.

The spider froze on the web. Slowly, it turned from its position above her and stared directly at her, her Astral light reflecting in its eyes. It was almost like it was gawking at her. Millie didn’t really notice that part; her brain was too busy trying to make sense of what she was seeing. The spider was…very large.

Now, Millie had dealt with large spiders before. She’d even been bold enough to hold a tarantula as part of a science exhibit once when she was a child. She had thought its hair would poke her, maybe even hurt, but instead, it had been surprisingly soft. If anything, it had tickled her, and she’d felt incredibly proud of herself for how brave she’d been.

There was nothing on God’s green Earth, in Heaven or Hell, or in any other Oath or offering that would ever make her want to hold the freak of nature above her. She felt that way for two reasons.

First, and foremost, the spider was the size of a Basset Hound. She knew that wasn’t normal—there was an upper limit to the size such creatures could get. Her enhanced clarity helped her recall it had something to do with the difficulties the creatures had breathing through their exoskeletons. However, while her mind (un)helpfully recounted those facts, she continued to stare due to the second reason her magically augmented intellect had categorized the arachnid as abnormal.

It was wearing clothes. Her ‘enhanced’ mind sputtered to a halt at that one.

Wrapped around its long legs were leather and bronze bracers, with decorative filigree and jewels inlaid into them. Its abdomen had literal scale mail fit over it protectively. Around its midsection was a belt, with pouches and satchels. Finally, in its palps—the little ‘arm’ like helpers framing its massive jaws—it held a Spell rod. The spider also had friends that came out to join it. Lots of friends.

That was when Millie truly started to panic.

Oversized abominations were pouring out of the stonework. Millie nearly stumbled, turning and twisting, looking for a direction that didn’t have spiders, only to fail. She considered running, despite being surrounded, but where would she go? Her good sense kicked in and she instead moved to the center of the wide-open space of the spider’s cathedral. If she ran she was only likely to get caught in a web of some kind, especially if there were any she couldn’t see in time to dodge.

Maybe…maybe they can’t see me, she told herself. Maybe I imagined that first one responding to me and this is a dream vision or something. I’m not really here, right?

Every spider in the room stared at her. She gulped, feeling foolish.

Awkwardly, she continued to watch them, and they her. Several even pointed at her before turning to one another and chittering. It was as though they were speaking to one another, discussing this strange occurrence. For all Millie could gather, they probably were.

Eventually, one dropped down from the ceiling, using a strand of silk, and Millie fell backward, scrambling. With her butt on the floor, she prepared to either bolt or find out if her mind-body (which she absently realized was probably an Astral Projection) could fight. Her best hope was that her translucence meant she couldn’t interact physically, for good or ill, wherever she’d wound up.

She halted her retreat when the would-be drop-bear spider paused above her, still a ways up. It was a fat-bodied arachnid, with a white abdomen partially exposed through a set of brown robes. Its yellow and black legs had a few golden bands on them, like rings, and it chittered its jaws at her, accenting its movements by waving its fuzzy palps at her.

It seemed hesitant. If Millie didn’t know any better, she’d swear it was confused, perhaps even startled by Millie’s reactions. If she could’ve talked to it, she’d have been happy to explain the feeling was mutual, if soured by her overwhelming need to find out if she could Astrally wet herself.

Staring at the spider, she watched it twist back, looking towards the terrifying crowd hanging on the rafters nearby. It chittered to one of the larger spiders in the distance—a sleek, brown hairless one that was denuded of clothing outside of thick, iron caps placed on its leg tips. The brown-recluse-looking bastard then nodded in an entirely too-human gesture, before doing something Millie…really hadn’t seen coming.

It pulled out a fucking staff from thin air, the thin wood sticking to its iron-clad leg inexplicably. The spider then wingardium leviosa’d the spider above Millie, who turned back to face her, its dark palps twitching as its eyes glowed with an inner light. Only this time, she understood its chittering.

“Welcome Disciple, to er…our home. I apologize, but we weren’t expecting you directly, it appears the High Magus in charge of your section of the Weave didn’t collect your projection properly. Please remain calm while we look into the situation.”

That finally proved too much for Millie.

The spider flinched as she let out a scream. It was high-pitched and long-winded. After ten seconds of her screaming from the floor, dozens of spiders watching in trepidation and annoyance, she eventually realized two things. First: the spiders weren’t going to attack her. Second: she didn’t need to breathe in an Astral body and she could apparently scream endlessly. Awkwardly, her voice finally teetered out as she stomped down on the feeling of freshly forged, and likely permanent, arachnophobia.

“H…hi,” she lamely said. The spider just glared at her.

“Is this true? One has finally… arrived?” A voice called out. It was feminine, with an oddly lilting tone that strung out the sentence with a breathy air. Millie couldn’t see its source.

The spider above her chittered, its words lost to Millie as it wasn’t directing them towards her. It became clear after a moment that it was speaking to the disembodied voice.

“There has been no mistake,” the voice said. “She is the one we have been waiting for. Send her to me.”

The orb spider above turned back.

“The All-mother shall see you now, Disciple. Please attend to her in the Loom’s hall.”

The spider promptly turned back up, climbing towards the ceiling. Most of the spiders watching also turned to leave, only a few remaining to continue observing her. One, in particular, caught Millie’s attention as she eyed it nibbling on some jerky. She glared momentarily, the spider seeming only to be even more amused.

“Uh…” Millie let out, before clearing her throat. “Um, where…where is this chamber?”

While she wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of being here, she hoped that this vision at least had something to do with her quest. Given CJ’s theory that her Gift would relate to spiders it seemed likely, but she didn’t want to linger if she could help it. For all she knew, she was already dead back in the real world. That’s a pleasant thought, she mused darkly.

The orb spider above her paused, turning back to her. She got the distinct sense of incredulity from the spider, before it lifted one of its front limbs slowly and deliberately, pointing further into the cathedral. The jerky-eating spider nearby seemed to laugh, even dropping a piece in its mirth.

Millie blushed, not really knowing why, before nodding sheepishly. She then crawled forward for a bit, before remembering she had legs. Standing, she made her way further into the darkness, watching out for webs. She could hear the orb spider chittering something behind her, the tone vaguely exasperated. Can chittering have a tone?

Past the ‘landing room’ as she thought of it, were several additional hallways. They were large, with repeated, sharp patterns carved into the stone, and webs covered the higher locations. Decorations became more frequent, often in the forms of silk tapestries and statues (most of which depicted humans and alien creatures, Millie noted). She feared getting lost as she continued, but at every junction a spider would present itself, pointing towards the direction she needed to go.

Eventually, she arrived in a space so large her soft light only showed her a wall of darkness. It moved with her as the actual walls gave way around her. Tentatively, she stepped into the area, looking around in vain, before clearing her throat and announcing herself.

“Um, hello? Miss…person? Spider person?” She obviously didn’t know who she was meeting, but she took a stab in the dark guessing their nature. A moment later, a towering shape flowed from the darkness, and she realized she’d been…correct.

At first, the being’s figure was reminiscent of the bug-bot, especially with the way the large, sleek legs appeared out of thin air from Millie’s limited point of view. However, while the Fortune-Teller had been large, this thing was monstrously huge as it strode from the darkness.

Each towering black leg stood out, not just from the reflective chitinous surface shining in her Astral light, but from the gold decorations covering them. Like finger claws, they covered the tips of the legs but were obviously aesthetic in design. Further up the dark legs, golden armbands of similar intricacy could be seen, and covering the massive abdomen was a jewel-inlaid cloth of deep purple, depicting numerous murals and Runes in golden thread.

Where she feared seeing the face of a spider, however, she saw instead more draping cloth, embroidered at its edges, giving it a jagged, spiked pattern with several layers continuing this trend until it hit smooth, dark silk that dragged below like a dress.

Looking up, Millie saw the pale humanoid torso of a woman; her stomach covered in a dark, sheer fabric interwoven with golden thread and jewels. Her chest, however, was exposed. Millie passed over the assets nearly larger than she was—even if the creature was a more normal size, they’d probably have been as large as Millie’s head.

Further up, Millie saw the spider-woman had broad, layered pauldrons, and her arms, neck, and head all sported various bands, bangles, and rings. In her human hand, she held a gigantic gold staff that was more than twenty feet tall. Its end was almost ax-like, looking like the Star Wars Rebel symbol to Millie, only the midpoint was a ludicrously large gem. The creature paused in front of her.

“You…oh, you…” she said, with that same, breathy tone, smiling. Her lips and eyes were a bright blood red, and her long, silken hair was a mix of loose and braided—more golden accents woven into the strands like a crown. Its color was as dark as her carapace below.

“M-me,” Millie agreed. She was not enjoying the way the spider-girl looked at her, its gorgeous features alight with what looked like near-manic elation.

“I’ve been waiting for your thread,” she said. “I almost doubted it would come.”

“Welp, here I am,” Millie said. “I, ah, might be dying though, so I don’t suppose you can make this vision quick?”

The spider-woman cocked her head, silken hair shifting like water across her armored shoulders. “Ah, but of course,” she said, her eyes flashing briefly with magic. “Ignorance. So odd to see one so lost.”

Millie blushed before glaring at the creature. It lifted up a giant hand placatingly, then covered its mouth, tittering. After it laughed, it regarded her more seriously.

“Please, take no offense. Your Fate is out of your hands. But…we shall change that starting now, Disciple.”

The spider-woman turned, her massive legs lifting and falling with impossible silence, as her bulk shifted. With a wide-spread gesture, she lifted her staff and the darkness around Millie disappeared.

The room was staggering large. While not quite on the same scale as the room containing the Tree of Knowledge, it was easily second place. The stone walls glittered in the distance with bright specks, that traveled far into the horizon. In front of Millie though, was an endless spiraling web.

While obviously spider-made in origin, the silken creation looked anything but. It was colored in most areas, patterns woven throughout the structure, like a tapestry a thousand spiders were working to create. Even now, she watched the edges where silk strands were bridged across, spiders working to integrate them into the design. The whole thing slowly descended into a pit below. Vaguely, she realized it was a large, three-dimensional—

“Loom…” Millie muttered. Suddenly the spider’s words from earlier made sense.

“Indeed,” the spider-woman agreed, walking forward, heading to a nearby platform overlooking the giant weave. Millie jogged to keep up, quickly noticing just how impossibly deep the pit was. She couldn’t see the bottom, just miles of finished patterns trailing into the distance.

“This is the Loom of Fate,” the creature intoned. “There are many like it, but…this one is unique,” she quirked a blood-red smile.

Millie remained silent, however, standing a healthy distance as the creature paused on the platform overlooking the Loom.

“But such words mean nothing to you,” she said, an odd twinkle in her eye before it grew worried. “I wish that I had the time to explain. But death? That is not all that awaits us.”

“What do you mean?” Millie asked, eyes narrowed. The creature nodded at her question, before pointing towards the horizon above them.

Millie followed the gesture, seeing the area of the Loom where the patterns were freshest. The spiders above were struggling though, attempting to weave around thick, black strands. Areas where the materials were…dying. Worryingly, she noticed that whatever corruption that had taken root seemed to be spreading out. Everything new seemed tainted.

“Calamity awaits us,” she said. “It isn’t our first. Yet, I can’t find a path to avoid it, just delay it, that’s all. You wonder your part, the reason we speak. You are my hope, my contingency of Fate. For you are not of now but beyond it, that fall.”

“I, ah, I don’t think I’m really following here, spider-lady. No offense,” Millie quickly added. Was she saying that Millie was from her…future? Was this a vision of the past? Had Millie time-traveled!?

The monster looked back at her curiously, before a bemused, toothy grin spread across her face. Millie dimly noted her incisors were slightly oversized.

“You do not know me,” she said, still smiling gleefully. “Never has there been a… Disciple like you.”

“Disciple?” Millie repeated. She recalled the term being bandied about, but she hadn’t yet seen the reason. What exactly was their relationship? Why was she having this vision of the past? And why the fuck in the past talking to me? Is this really happening or is this in my head?

The spider-woman nodded, before turning back to the Loom. “You are my Disciple. The key to our survival. But first, an introduction. Then after, your instruction.”

She turned back around, legs delicately maneuvering past Millie, as Millie froze stiffly so as not to get stepped on. Even with her healthy distance, the creature was just too damn big to avoid.

“I’ve many names,” she said. “Weaver. Schemer. Dreamer. That last was oft’ shared. Contested, in truth. No matter. To you, I think a name more clear. Navigator of the Astral Sea? No. Seer of Discord? Hand of Fate? Or perhaps…the Archmagus of the Axiom? Yes, I see it in your eyes.”

“The Archmagus of…oh fuck me,” Millie cursed. This creature was the Archmagus of the Axiom? As in the entire arcanum?

At least I was right about the Seed Gifts being related to the Arcana, Millie thought glumly.

The Weaver smiled, pleased, immensely it seemed, by Millie’s passionate reaction. “In each of the ten, you will find an Archmagus at the top. We are the ones who pioneered a path for magic to expand.”

“I…” Millie hesitated, before swallowing her trepidations. “I don’t know if I understand. Are you…real? Or not? Is this vision of mine actually happening? Are you dead? Alive? Is this the past? The future? What exactly is going on?”

“Hmm,” she purred, a literal vibration rumbling from her chest. “No, too soon. Too soon to explain in full. Your death as you said it. It comes as you fear. To meddle, or to weave, will only make it worse. So no—when you awaken, continue to search. To be here means clues were scattered, just as we designed. The one I can give before you depart: what you see now, as you feel, is indeed the past. And to me, you are the future. The hope of the Weave.”

Great, Millie thought dryly. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected going into her vision quest, but this really hadn’t been on her list of possibilities. I’m talking to the past Archmagus of the Axiom before she…what, died in the calamity that took out Magincia? Fuck.

“Time runs short,” she said. “Turn to the Loom. Cast your Fate. Gain the Sight.”

“Huh?” Millie said, turning to look at the giant web. It was impressive, certainly, but she had no idea what she was supposed to be looking for.

“Your quest,” she said. “Visions of truth. Weave them here,” she gestured towards the web. “Or…can you not see? Can you not spin?”

Millie glanced between the Loom and the spider. “I, ah, see the webs. They look nice, but I have no idea how to weave anything. I don’t think I even could—I don’t have magic.”

The creature sighed, before shaking its head. “It requires no magic. It requires…that you see. But you don’t, do you? Just webs in the Loom?”

Millie tentatively nodded.

“Of course,” she said, nodding as well. “This is more than…ignorance. You are too different. A paradigm apart. How then do find your place to start?”

Was she meaning to rhyme? Millie wasn’t sure, and she was half prepared to start rhyming back before the spider-woman suddenly tapped her staff to the ground.

The platform they were on vibrated, and Millie looked down at the spiraling design. The ground trembled below her, and she suddenly thought she heard…the ocean? Her head swam with the waves as she teetered on her feet. What the hell…?

“No,” the Archmagus said. “Not that one.”

Again she tapped her staff, and Millie’s head rang alongside the floor. Was she doing something to the Loom or Millie? She couldn’t tell.

“Is it…” she tapped again, and Millie heard an odd metallic clank in the distance. Instantly, however, her head felt clearer.

The spider-lady shook her head, another bemused smile on her face. “The Warden would be most jealous if only he knew. But I see it, not a Loom, but a…”

Then, she turned to face Millie once more, her red eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. “Tell me, Disciple of the Weaver,” she said. “What is Fate if not a machine? A manufacturer of destiny?”

“A…machine?” Millie asked.

Distantly she heard the noise again. Startled, she twisted her head, looking for the source. It sounded like a press. She swore she’d also heard a hiss of steam in accompaniment.

“There are ways to see,” she said. Dimly, Millie realized the lights around her were beginning to fade, the Loom growing indistinct.

“Ways…to see?” Millie repeated, jumping slightly when another sound echoed out. She was sure of it this time—a sudden metallic clank, followed by a rush of steam.

Chunk-shss!

“It is what we call one’s Paradigm of Sight. Your manner of understanding of a world too grand.”

The lights were disappearing even faster. Millie quickly found herself back to her original, soul-illuminated level, before even that faded.

“Wait!” She called out. “What’s going on?”

Chunk-shss!

Millie felt the floor lurch beneath her. Towards the Loom, she realized.

“Your quest will show you things. Past. Present. Future,” the spider’s voice called out. It no longer sounded like it was in front of her, and instead echoed from the darkness. “For those that you care for. But also…it shall give you Sight.”

Chunk-shss!

Millie windmilled as the floor lurched again, before stumbling to the floor. Beneath her fingers, the ground had a familiar texture. Rough and a bit clingy—rubber. Like a conveyer belt, she realized. The sound came again, and she lurched in time with it.

Chunk-shss!

“To see the world around you in a light that's made new,” the floor lurched again. “It doesn’t change what you perceive as false from what’s true.”

Chunk-shss!

The motions felt faster now. Light was also beginning to reemerge, but Millie couldn’t yet make out the new world around her.

Millie stumbled as the conveyor lurched again. “What is this? What are you showing me!?”

Chunk-shss!

“Fate my Disciple. In all its forms.”

The silken, lilting voice trailed off into a laugh. Metal walls, covered in rust and dried, black material, like a fossilized lichen, surged past her in waves. Like she was a tool being shipped out, one slow lurch at a time, she watched an impossibly huge factory move by.

Chunk-shss!

Millie tumbled as the conveyor dipped down, somersaulting along a sudden incline. At the bottom, she looked up to see machines more massive than skyscrapers all around her. Parts moving, sparks flying, spiders scuttling along, wearing engineering hats and bearing wrenches.

And in the machines—was light. Colorful globes, some gaseous, others liquid, most physical in the way they acted. Arms and mechanisms moved in concert, grabbing, catching, and moving the light. Funneling it into the grand machine.

Chunk-shss!

Millie realized what the machine was doing. As she shot forward, it was forging the light. Making something. What that was—she couldn’t yet tell, but her progress was bringing her to a section with materials being worked on. Each shift forward brought her closer to machines that could easily crush her, slice her, or tear her to shreds with the myriad ways they interacted with the strange light.

Chunk-shss!

Should she jump off? She considered it, leaning over the edge of the conveyor, but saw only darkness below. With an instinct she couldn’t place, she realized it was the pit the Loom had been placed in. She also knew, again mysteriously, that falling below wouldn’t end well.

Something down there felt like The Tower to her.

Chunk-shss!

Millie rolled on the floor with the sudden shift, and the conveyor split again. She was thrown to the side, barely holding on, while just above her gears and pistons turned and churned. The machine rotating and firing, steam filling the air.

Chunk-shss!

“Do you see it yet?” The voice purred, anticipation palpable in her tone.

“The machines?” Millie replied. “Is that what you wanted to show me? Because if I get any closer I don’t think I’ll—”

Chunk-shss!

“Fuck!” Millie rolled again, trying to dodge out of the way from an errant arm, which slapped a pile of light next to her. A second later, another bit of light plopped to her other side, like she was just one piece in the line to be worked on.

“Millie…” the voice intoned. Great, she fucking knows my name. “Do not cast your gaze at the strings. Look to the pattern—and the threads that it brings.”

Chunk-shss!

And we’re back to rhyming, Millie thought, before screaming in fright as an arm shot towards her.

It paused, however, as though indecisive, and she saw, absently out of the corner of her eye, a hard-hat-wearing spider crawl across the appendage and smack it vehemently with a wrench. The massive, metallic structure quivered, before passing over her and continuing to work on the light puddle nearby.

Percussive maintenance, she thought dryly. Works every time. She stared, halfway between bemusement, and halfway between wondering if she’d just Astrally peed herself.

Chunk-shss!

The lights being worked on were being shaped into new objects. Vials filled with light, or bars molded in others. Each piece was unique, each arm a tool capable of a hundred functions. Yet in the distance, the same dance happening around her was recurring a thousand times. Even the biggest factories on Earth would have paled in comparison.

Chunk-shss!

The light near her got an injection. Light from a different belt crossing over. Another, was alloyed, becoming something entirely new.

Others, further away but close enough to examine, were removed entirely as the light faded, becoming dull. Mechanical arms, driven by spiders, swept the pieces off, sometimes distributing the remains, and sometimes removing them entirely.

Chunk-shss!

Of the two closest to her, she saw one vial of light, standing as tall as herself. It was like looking into a full-length mirror.

The other, behind her, was like a picture frame. Slowly inside it, the light was being sculpted, forming an image as other plates were added to it, expanding its length so greatly it should have spilled over the belt. Yet, no matter how big it grew, it always fit within the belt.

Chunk-shss!

The vial showed a scene of something. People talking, what about she wasn’t sure. And the mural beside her was of an entire city. Like looking at a snapshot of what it could be.

Pictures. The machines were making pictures but of metal and light.

Chunk-shss!

She stood up, finding it easier to perch on the moving belt now that she understood its rhythm. Looking in the distance, she saw some of the finished products being displayed.

The first one made her gasp.

Chunk-shss!

It was CJ.

He had a wand of fire heating a large glass container, Three Pentacles floating within the boiling waters. Steam rose from the top as he poured a familiar vial into the mixture. He had a look of determination on his face, but with hints of a smile appearing.

“I can do this,” he said to himself. Inside, she saw memories of his life, floating around. Her heart raced and she didn’t know why.

Then—

Chunk-shss!

Another picture. A boat with a body laid to rest. It floated on a river, Millie’s classmates ushering it forward. The body was tall and dark-skinned. A man? A cloth covered his face. Several swords were in the boat with him, but the one in his hand was broken, rising and falling with his chest. He wasn’t dead; just laid to rest along Four Swords.

With a start, Millie realized it was D’marco. She also realized the pictures carried a Tarot theme. Indication of deeper meaning, such as the stress, and the fear that threatened to overwhelm him if they didn’t—

Chunk-shss!

The other Navarro sat on a thrown, her hair spilling out around her regally, loose and well-groomed. The seat was she was on was made of reeds, almost bamboo really, but gilded with gold. It was fit for a queen and she had golden bracers on her arms, glowing like the Weaver’s staff.

She smiled knowingly at Millie, playing with the single Pentacle in her hand as she smirked. Soon, she seemed to say. Soon, I’ll have it all.

“What? What will you have?” Millie asked with worry. She didn’t get an answer before—

Chunk-shss!

Raj stood in a circle, blood dripping from a multitude of wounds.

A dark ring of shadow surrounded him, penning him in. Nearby, an indistinct entity hung high in the air, draped in dark clothes as they floated, carrying a book. Watching. Waiting.

There were eight wands stuck in the ground around him, the only things holding the darkness back. On one was a skull. On another, a blood-stained military helmet. An M4 hung on a third. All eight had items on them, mostly military. All from the dead, she realized, their ghosts hovering just beyond.

In his hands, Raj held the Ninth Wand. It glowed with an otherworldly, ghostly light.

“What did you do with them!?” He screamed. “Where are they!?”

Where are—

Chunk-shss!

Braylon stood in a graveyard, before a pair of tombstones. He held two things in his hands: the first being a bundle of flowers, which after pausing reverently, he set down. Almost inaudibly, he sighed into the cool night air.

“I’ll keep trying, mom and dad. I’ll keep going. I’m…sorry I lost my way for a while.”

He smiled sadly, looking at the picture he’d laid the flowers next to. It was of a younger Braylon, and behind him were two dark-skinned adults. As he turned to walk away, he tossed the other thing he’d been holding.

A knee brace. It landed among a group of Five Cups, each upturned and planted into the ground. She knew this meant a reversal in the meaning, but she could also smell something. Alcohol, she realized. However, as she looked, she saw he hadn’t drank it.

He’d poured it all away, leaving it behind.

Chunk-shss!

The world was in chaos.

Pillars of light struck the ground as Cathrine scrambled up a flight of stairs, desperate to reach the top. Trying with all her might to reach the heavens.

But the stairs began to crumble, the stone scattering into the winds as the girl screamed, reaching for something to catch her. To answer her.

Nothing did.

She began to tumble, falling backward as the stones tore away, only for several to be blasted by a beam of light. Shards of stone, shaped like swords, blew apart like shrapnel from the large chunks, before twisting in the air and falling towards Catherine.

She screamed in fear before they skewered her. Slamming into the floor, far below the stairs, she lay there weeping in pain. Her bloody body a pincushion of torment.

As Millie counted them, she saw there were Ten Swords in total.

“Why,” she whispered, sobs choking from her lips. “Why have you forsaken me?”

“Shhhh, child,” an unknown, motherly voice whispered. “Follow me instead. I will help you find what you seek.”

Chunk-shss!

Katelyn sat on a bench, a soft smile on her face.

“Hey, we’re going to go out soon, maybe hit up the twelfth Stack,” a Millie within the vision said. She carried a child on her hip. “Would you mind watching him for a bit? He’s being fussy.”

“I’d be happy to,” Katelyn agreed, smiling kindly. “What kind of Godmother would I be otherwise?”

The vision Millie laughed as she handed the child over, before heading out. Katelyn bounced the little boy on her knee, her eyes filled with joy, even as they carried a distant longing. As she hugged the boy close, Millie could see a soft glow to him, matching a glow from several cups nearby, hidden under the bench. Something Katelyn had made? Or done? It had protected the boy.

Katelyn watched over him, but periodically looked out towards the garden in front of her. There, Millie finally noticed the little girl playing in the dirt, putting it into the Sixth Cup. Her features, so reminiscent of Katelyn’s, were pale and indistinct.

She was a ghost.

Chunk-shss!

Two hands bound in chains struggled against their bonds, forming the gesture of a heart. The silhouette beyond it bled, the crimson liquid spilling into a river of blood below. The scarlet tide split a jagged pair of white cliffs, and embedded in the rocks, at periodic levels, were Three Swords.

In the distance, she could hear him yelling. Hear him screaming. Hear him trying, so desperately, to weep.

Liam’s anguished cry. Why did it sound so—

Chunk-shss!

Fire in the background. A raging inferno that seemed out of control. However, a figure approached calmly, gliding as though skating. In her hand she held a large wand, using it to ward away the blaze, and on her shoulder, a small sparrow alighted.

It was Tanya.

“Hey Millie,” she said. “Don’t give up, okay? You’ve got this—just a little further to go.”

Was she talking to her?

“Tanya? What—”

Chunk-shss!

The conveyor belt finally reached its end. Millie fell, pictures tumbling around her as she descended into the void.

Above her, she saw the machines towering above. From her angle, she realized they formed a pattern. A sign.

As they poured their materials, their pictures, and their goods into an ever-flowing river, it created a spiraling ring made of metal, gears, and light. Between the pipes, between the machines, between the flowing, speaking, pictures, she saw it take shape. A Rune writ in a picture made of industry.

It was the Wheel of Fortune.

She screamed in agony as Understanding filled her soul and she gained Sight.

“Millie? By the Song—Millie!”

Hands shook her, as Millie groggily came too. It was her servitor, panic on her face.

“Hey—” Millie coughed, gagging as she suddenly felt a surge of liquid rising in her throat.

Looking down at her desk, she saw why. It was covered in blood.

Her blood.

“Fuck, I—”

She retched up more blood. Bruises were covering every inch of her arms, and she watched as they began to rip open. She was bleeding from a dozen sores and kept puking blood.

Oh, God. This is the Backlash, but it's bad. It's really bad. How much damage am I taking?

The agony hit, only to go numb almost as quickly. She began to convulse, her eyes flitting into the back of her skull, and blood gushed out of her from too many wounds to count. She couldn’t see her robot through the red. Could barely hear her either. All she could do was keep retching, keep bleeding.

Keep dying.

Suddenly, she was lifted. Her robot was screaming something in panic. The governor? It wasn’t doing something.

The robot practically flew up the stairs as they left the bedroom. Terrified voices immediately greeted them.

“Millie’s robot? Oh, fuck me sideways—what the fuck happened? I thought that stupid ball was supposed to help her!”

“She’s dying—please someone get a healing potion or, or—I can’t order anything without authorization! We need something!”

“I got it, robot. Katelyn! Get out of the study we need you now! Are the others still up?”

“The fuck would I know? I ain’t their…tch. Fine, I think CJ’s in his lab, and cornrows is in the yard. I don’t know where the others are. She’s…she’s gonna be okay, right?”

“What’s going on? Why’s everyone shouting?”

“Tanya? I don’t know. Move it robot—to the pools. Hey—do you know where Raj is? We need a potion and I bet that fucker has one.”

“I…I don’t know. I was just waiting with CJ when…how did this happen? How did she…”

“Shit—I’ll buy one! System, summon Anne the Droid.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Ugh—I can’t believe you named her that. Tanya, go back into the lab and see if CJ has something that can—fuck me!”

Retching.

“Tanya? Are you sic—oh my God, Millie!? What happened, how did—hold her steady. We’re going to the pools? Alright. I can keep the Healing Light channeling while we…Christ help us.”

“Yo, what is it? What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s more wounds than flesh, dumb ass, what the fuck do you think is wrong?”

“It's her soul. It’s…God help us. It’s rupturing.”

Silence.

“Please hurry, Initiates. Please, my Mistress…she can’t die. Hurry!”

“Right. Back to moving. Katelyn, please tell me your Spell can handle this…”

Movement. Rushing. Heavy footsteps.

“Hello, my dudes! D’marco, brah, what do ya you need?”

“I swear to god I’m going to kill you.”

“Pfft, whatever. Hey, how much does that healing potion shit cost?”

“Fifty big ones my man!”

“That won’t help here D’marco. Catherine, did you and Raj finish the Spare the Dying Spell? My Healing Light won’t…fix this. We’re losing her.”

“I…I…”

“Fuck. Keep trying, Katelyn. D’marco, you and Anne wait outside. Catherine, you…Catherine? Catherine—snap the fuck out of it, girl.”

“I…I’m sorry! I don’t know if I can do it without Raj.”

Someone snorted.

“Jesus, Millie is dying and you’re laughing? Mama would whoop your ass you inconsiderate little shit.”

“It's fine though. Right? It’s…it ain’t that serious. Right?”

Silence.

“Fuck.”

“Out. Now!”

“Set her in the pool, keep her steady. Don’t disrupt the Spell. System, summon Nagyi.”

“Acknowledged.”

Warm liquid. Enveloping.

“Hey robot—how bad is this to fix? You got anything?”

“I don’t know, Initiate Navarro. I tried to reach the Governor for aid but he…he shut me out. We used the System too much. Please—you have to save her!”

“Why is the fucking robot panicking so badly? What is this shit?”

“Bee-tee-dubz, the answers you seek can be found—”

“Oh for fuck’s sakes, shut up. I thought I told you to get out! Fuck you and your stupid robot!”

“She’s cute, fuck you.”

“Yes. I am adorable.”

“I said get the fuck out!”

“Katelyn, dear? I’ve arrived. What do you need?”

Someone was sobbing quietly near Millie. Miss robot?

“Nagyi, is there a talisman that can mimic the Spare the Dying Spell?”

“There is. It costs two hundred and fifty resource points. I’m afraid you lack the necessary funds to afford it.”

“I’ll help her pay.”

“CJ? Did Tanya fill you in?”

“She did, Katelyn. I’ve got something that can help, I just…I hope it won’t bite us in the ass later.”

“Do we still need the talisman?”

“Yes.”

“Nagyi, will this work?”

“It can. I’ll be back in one moment. For now, I suggest you submerge the girl. The more healing energy feeding her lifeforce, the more time you’ll buy.”

“What if she drowns?”

“She’d need to be breathing for that to be a problem, Initiate Navarro.”

Voices faded suddenly. Interfered with. Underwater?

“Please don’t die Mistress.” Someone was whispering next to her ear, through the water. “You can’t. Please. If you die, I’ll…I’ll…”

Millie wasn’t sure what was being said, the liquid was muffling sound and her mind was falling apart. The world was fading, and the sounds of people shouting in the background grew dim.

Finally, her consciousness faded completely.

“…I’ll die too.”