The sky was full of stars by the time he became consciously aware of his surroundings. He hadn’t passed out, but he was so close to death that, even though conscious, there was no one in there, so to speak. At first, he feared what he may have told Nissa while she dragged him through the blackened streets and alleyways into whatever this place was. He searched his memories for a recounting of the events from the time of Luna’s Favor and coming here.

No luck. He couldn’t remember a thing, other than being dragged and carried by the arcane archer. In his faint memories, she even shouted something at him, but Aren couldn’t remember what the words were.

On the other hand, Aren came to an understanding of where he was. Ah, yes, he even recognized it. This place was called I am lost, but I know how fast I am going. Aren, perhaps because of blood-loss or jaded from the realities of the waking word, even chuckled at his own gallows humor. A little dash of the Heisenberg spice could put a lot of uncomfortable ideas into a brighter perspective.

And thinking of the real world, while he had a moment to himself, and not fighting for his life, he considered things and weighed his options. These things inevitably put him in a terrible mood, and worst of all, it showed on his expression. He didn’t want to worry his teammates or provoke questions of opportunity. The less they knew, the better it was for them.

Aren even felt a bit guilty that he didn’t tell them about the reality that stalked him, like a monster hiding in his closet. The group had poured so many resources into Aren, without knowing that any day now Aren might disappear or die in another unfortunate accident.

Maybe somewhere, buried deep beneath dependence and glee at the prospect of making more friends, he even considered cutting his ties with the group. It wasn’t that he consciously reeled them in, like he was a scammer, but they had decided everything on their own — their investments and everything else — before Aren even had a chance to react. But if Aren did have the opportunity to end it before it began, would he have taken it?

Aren wasn’t a perfect individual; he lied, rarely, and sure, he cheated on a few tests, he had bouts of envy and melancholy, even anger sometimes. But he liked to think that he’d have done the right thing when it mattered.

Of course, when maxed out on both morphine and the pain scale, the person who Aren truly was disappeared under the surface, and an animal emerged. An animal that would lie, cheat, steal and kill, and, in general, do anything just to make it stop. Aren wasn’t depressed — he had long since skipped the various stages of grief and landed on acceptance and beyond — but he was desperate. Desperate to create anything worthwhile to fill in the bleak moments of what remained of his life.

Things like friendships, achievements, maybe even love.

Would they — his new friends — understand if all their investments went up in smoke if one day Aren disappeared? And, if he saw Priscilla again, would he have the courage to tell her, now armed with the knowledge that it wasn’t a strange thing at all to fall for a denizen or even get married, or would he choose Priscilla’s path and keep silent about it in order to spare her feelings?

But more importantly — most importantly in fact — was Aren’s life really coming to an end? The last time he woke, not only could he see, but he was not in pain either. Ermin Saltzer even told Aren he could go home. Ironically, Aren feared humans more than the AGMI in his head, and most of all, he feared hope itself.

They didn’t know about Leviathan. And thank his lucky stars that Leviathan was there to stop him from literally telling them. In his vision, Voyrin — no doubt a high ranking military officer — immediately tried to kill Aren. Aren also thought that would be the most likely scenario — AGMI were tremendously dangerous — but would that have really happened? No matter how Aren thought about it, even if they knew he had an AGMI, what could Aren do?

Thinking about it realistically, Aren had not moved a muscle for more than two months — kept from atrophying by Sim Pod massages and bursts of pleasant shock to work them. There was no way he could walk out, or even disassemble Voyrin’s weapon, not to mention use it to kill the soldier. Aren, physically, was no threat, in theory at least.

As he held that thought in his mind, for several long moments, Aren realized that he could trust the AGMI. The reason was simple, convoluted, and perhaps, exactly what the AGMI wanted.

Aren’s thoughts were an open book to it. Aren was sure of that. It knew about Priscilla, and it knew — during that battle against the Scar of Rakab — the only way Aren could be convinced to fight.

And yet, Aren had harbored these doubts about Leviathan for a long time, and even when he was at his weakest, and most desperate and easily convincible, Leviathan had not spoken a word to change Aren’s mind. Leviathan had already proved how easy it would’ve been for it to manipulate Aren, and yet, the AGMI allowed Aren to have doubts.

Why?

The second clue both answered the question and further proved Leviathan’s innocence. It did not care. Leviathan was a military AGMI; its objectives were of a strategic nature, and for their completion, it did not need Aren’s trust or faith — only obedience. It needed a dumb fleshbag that could walk and touch the physical world, opposable thumbs preferred.

It was that simple. AGMI were cold, calculating entities. They did not need trust. In fact, trust might become a problem — only fools rely on trust when everything can be bought in some way, even loyalty. To AGMI, having no trust might even be preferable, at least, that way, the impact of human variables was more limited. How many kings and emperors have died in the history of the world because they trusted someone they shouldn’t have? Even Caesar, who’s brilliant strategy the group was ready to re-implement not that long ago was brought low by misplaced trust.

Just what was Leviathan’s objective, and why did it need Aren? If Leviathan was truly an objective-oriented entity, it needed something that Aren would come across either in his search for Priscilla, or after he found her.

Improvement in citizen class? That was the one reasonable conclusion. Aren, and his teammates, were absolutely certain that their life would tremendously improve because of him. The achievements, in his search for Priscilla, would surely make him famous and by extent grant him citizenship and a hefty citizen class reward.

Was that it? Leviathan needed something that could only be found in an Arcology? For example, Sector 9’s central Arcology — the place where the Military Research Institute for AI Technology was? The place Leviathan came from?

“Rise and shine.” Aren heard Nissa’s voice as the nimble human vaulted over the three-meter high wall and into the ruined floor of the building. “I’ve been saying this far too often to you lately. How are you feeling?”

Aren grunted in reply. His throat was so dry, the prospect of speaking hurt.

“Better than dead,” Nissa said, crouching down next to Aren’s prone form. His head was resting on Nissa’s satchel. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but at least it wasn’t the cold, hard ground. “I am not gonna lie. We are pretty screwed.”

Words like that merited a verbal response, but all Aren managed was a groan. The moment his lungs filled up with air, he could feel his broken ribs digging into things he’d rather they didn’t — important things, like his lungs and who knows what else.

Nissa raised a hand, shushing Aren. “The situation is as follows — also, check your messages — Fang and the others are on their way. It will take them at least an hour to get here. The streets are crawling with the enemy. We’ll be discovered, sooner or later. Following so far?”

Aren nodded. That part was easy at least.

“I can make it out, with some luck, but you?” She sucked a breath through her teeth. “Not gonna happen.”

Ok, so it wasn’t good news and their situation didn’t exactly inspire confidence. But so what?

“I went around and scouted a bit,” Nissa explained. “They are almost right on top of us. That orc who’s head you almost chopped off? Really angry. He doesn’t just want you dead, he wants you alive.”

Alive was always better than dead, no? Aren almost chuckled. Of course it wasn’t better. Aren knew that better than anyone.

“So, it’s pretty simple really when you think about it,” Nissa continued to speak with her matter of fact tone. “We can risk it, or I can kill you here and now.”

Option A, Aren thought, risk getting captured and tortured for days, or option B, a quick trip to the Leone temple.

It really was simple, as Nissa said. Aren blinked twice, nudged his head back and forward — really, he tried every which way to signal option b.

Nissa looked disappointed. Shocked even. Angry.

Why? It was her idea! It’s a good idea, too!

“You really are a fool, Aren,” Nissa hissed. “You are a Calamity. Don’t you understand what that means?”

Aren’s blood froze. His expression said it all. He had no clue, and also, begged the question how did you know.

“When your quest updated, it was visible to the entire group. Granted, it was just you and me left, the others were dead,” Nissa said and sighed helplessly. “Don’t you get it? There is no safe place for you,” she quoted the quest description, paraphrasing mostly. “What do you think that means?”

Aren licked his lips. What did that mean? He could walk into cities just fine. And he felt fairly safe there.

“I will tell you what it means, Aren,” Nissa said, angrier than before. “It means that if you die, there won’t be reincarnation for you. Once you die, you are dead for good!”

“What?” Aren asked, petrified, with the faintest voice — the best he could manage.

Nissa pressed her palm against her face, rubbed her closed eyelids and grinded her teeth angrily. “This changes everything,” she said, to no one in particular. “What do I do? Do I tell Fang?” She seemed to be thinking out loud.

Aren vehemently shook his head, even though it hurt like hell to do so.

“You don’t get it, Aren. If we eliminate you, at least we will get a reward for doing so. What is your rank anyway?”

“Eeeee,” Aren squeezed out the letter, even though it sounded more like moaning and groaning than anything else. It was embarrassing.

Nissa blinked. “That’s not bad. E, huh?”

Aren had no cards left to play. It was all or nothing. He couldn’t run away. He couldn’t stop Nissa from killing him and claiming the reward. There was nothing he could do. Lying, which he was against for foolish moral reasons, was out of the question. He didn’t know which way to lie, upwards, to rank G or H, or downwards to B or A. There was no certainty in it. Grades, for items, were the lower the better, while Realms were the higher the better.

“Do you know what type of Calamity you are?” Nissa asked, chewing her lip thoughtfully.

Aren shook his head. He had no idea.

“There are different types,” Nissa explained. “Some can reincarnate, but it wouldn’t do you any good. The moment you appeared in the temple, if there was a deity that would allow it — Aurora, who’s favor you have, for example — you would appear with the hostility aura. Instant, dead give-away right there. Actually, we don’t know that much about Calamities — those who were one are strictly forbidden from talking about the mechanics — but speculation and rumor suggests that you can buy lives with Calamity points, and even suppress the aura. But you don’t even know your type, so I doubt you unlocked your Calamity powers.”

The more Nissa spoke, the more hopeful Aren became. It seemed like she wasn’t going to kill him. Not yet, at least.

“On the other hand, you receive benefits. Aurora’s favor, for example, you probably received it because of your status. Items you’ll find will probably be more powerful as well. Basically, the world revolves around you, more or less, story-lines converge on you, things like that. In return, you provide conflict and antagonism. Do you understand?”

Aren nodded. “My quest…” he grunted through his teeth.

Nissa raised her hand. “Don’t say it, I don’t want to know. I don’t want to become a Calamity. Yet.”

The yet burned in Aren’s mind alongside the also burning question. She didn’t know what his quest was?

“To be specific, what I saw was that you progressed a hidden quest, and that you have to go to the Tower of Gods — which was our goal anyway. I don’t know anything beyond that, and I want to keep it that way,” Nissa said.

Finally, Nissa stood up and looked at Aren, a mixture of pity and determination on her expression.

“This is what I will do, Aren,” Nissa said. “I will defend you with everything I have. I will die for you.” She shook her head, smacking her lips, when she saw Aren smile. “I will tell Fang about your… special status. He will decide what to do. I hope you understand.”

Aren nodded. He did understand. They risked everything for him, and had he known back then what being a Calamity meant he might have told them to forget about him. Perhaps, if they were closer, he might have told them about his status, and asked them if they wanted to help him. But he didn’t know, and now the situation was extremely complicated.

And Leviathan was of no help either. No convenient analysis this time, or visions of the future. Not even a death line. Was the AGMI really comfortable with this situation or was Aren completely off the mark with his own assessment about what Leviathan needed Aren for?

Nissa soon left the same way she came in — she probably collapsed the normal entrance after she got Aren to a safe spot — and Aren was left to his own once again.

Check your messages, Nissa had said earlier, and for the lack of anything better to do, Aren did just that.

His eye was drawn to a private message he received from Jennifer, his childhood friend to whom Aren owed his life to.

[Private] Yen: I noticed you emerged from the Island. I hope you are doing all right. I look forward to seeing you again. I’ll be in Leone soon.

Aren managed a weak, situation-inappropriate smile at the message. He missed Jennifer. The other messages Nissa spoke of were just general statements. We are coming to you, we are on the way, and hang in there.

Aren was certain that when they met up with Nissa their tone would change drastically.