At first glance, the world of the dead would seem so simple to those who merely read about it, but it was far deeper than that. The dead that inhabited the Outlands were just the tip of the iceberg. The days of the dead and undead were gone the moment magik came into this world. The source of magik, otherwise known as necroalchemy, came from the life force of living things and the newly dead, as a result, many of the dead mutated and were altered into many of the beings that terrify the world. It was that reason that caused magik to be forbidden and considered blasphemy. Thus, came neuroalchemy, not as strong as magik but was able to produce similar results with simple tweaks of science. Science is in everything after all. No matter how strong fantasy can become, science will always find a way to be at its core. And for that very reason, neuroalchemy, yet again, became a dangerous tool for those who still practiced magik. Those two combined created even more unspeakable beings. In the end, the two were sources for evil, only one of them was the lesser evil.

Here, would come the stitchreaper, a product of both magik and neuroalchemy. It was a rare being that only existed in myths that didn't circle as much as should have been, and was redacted from books that once covered the unspeakable. Fortunately, for Eeira, she possessed things from the oldworld, having forbidden texts wouldn't be so hard. Aten only knew briefly about the being — which was why he was unable to find its weakness — but Eeira studied it thoroughly. A stitchreaper would seem to be sophisticated like any unknown monster. However, that was not the case.

In the new era of the Black Frost, some dark, yet brave, souls that are unable to move on turn into reapers, wraiths that carry the judgment of death upon certain individuals. Unlike other wraiths though, reapers are sentient beings, able to think and talk, they are not cursed and willingly carry out every action given to them by the great ones, they don't go about mindlessly killing everything like a cursed wraith would do. Most of them even take the shape of humans (a new identity from the one they had before when they were alive) and live among them without troubles. Despite all that, they are still beings from the dead, perfect candidates for magik force. Falling into a mage's hand was a fate worse than what the reaper had endured. They defile their life force, and so, the reapers become twisted, unstable, their nonexistent bodies shift through time and space, and their sentient minds decimate completely, turning them into ruthless killing machines.

'So? What then?' Aten questioned Eeira.

It didn't take them long to turn back and scutter away to the town. They were back at the same old inn. The innkeeper was more than happy to welcome them back, even after they told him they were never coming back to this decrepit town — they quickly assumed at that moment that the mansion job would be done before they knew it, but the truth could not be farther). Unfortunately for them this time, they managed to snag one room as the entire place was full. Sure, it seemed like a ghost house in here, but nobody would come to this town to stay in their room all day. Nobody but these two.

However, this was better, they didn't like the noise and they could easily discuss their matters without worrying about others overhearing.

'Okay… you know how—' Eeira tried to explain.

'Just tell me what the hell did you use against that thing!' Aten interrupted.

'I'm getting there! But bear with me for a few minutes. I can't just tell you if I don't get to that point since you wouldn't understand, and I can't get to that point if you keep interrupting me, got it?' She was at the end of her rope. He simply nodded back in response like a child listening to their parents. She took a deep breath, 'Alright! Like I said before, stitchreapers come from reapers, and reapers come from humans. So there is a possible weakness to this thing, but only if we modify it. B-Before you utter something stupid, I know… anything can kill a human, but that doesn't mean anything can kill a reaper, and certainly not a stitchreaper. At their core, they still have a shred of humanity, which is what we should focus on, it's the only part that could lead us to the stitchreaper's weakness.'

Aten looked at Eeira with a bit of disinterest, indirectly telling her that she was dragging on her explanation.

'It's Acid! Sulfuric acid, to be more specific… but not in its natural state, of course. It needs a bit of modification, that's why neuroalchemy is the way to go with this. Once it comes into contact with the stitchreaper's skin, it'll slowly det—'

'Nah, this is where we draw the line. Take the time to think about what you just said. Like… acid? Really? That's it?! Besides, how would it come into contact with its skin when it has no skin? It's a flying cloak of bones. Skin's already withered.' Aten stood up from the chair he sat on in the corner, passed Eeira, who was sitting on the bed and made his way to the small fridge near the door.

This room was quite different than the ones they had the night before. From a design standpoint, everything was pretty much the same — the floor still creaked from underneath, the peeling paint around the walls, the windows that were still in an almost decayed state, and they could still hear a bit of the noise outside — aside from extra space for the second bed and added appliances (courtesy of the empire). It was a little bit above their original paygrade, but it was nothing they couldn't handle — unless they could not manage to exorcise the demon within the mansion by tomorrow; they could kiss their money and freedom goodbye.

Aten grabbed a drink from the fridge.

'You know you're going to have to pay for that, right?' Eeira expressed her concern.

'Yeah yeah, whatever… You're getting off-topic here,' he passed her once again, and stood by the window, looking down on the crowded streets that flowed like a river, 'What I wanna know is… what did you use against the stitchreaper? It sure as hell didn't look like acid. You can't just turn something like that into dust.'

'It's… Chrysanthemum!' She grit her teeth, and looked downward, avoiding eye contact with Aten. But there was no reaction from him, only confusion, 'It's a flower, a herb, alright. Really nothing special about it. I read before in books that the dead can be affected by the chrysanthemum, so I made a few and modified them. Somehow, it worked on the stitchreaper, and that's the end of it. No special tricks, nothing.'

'If that's the case…,' he frowned and rubbed his eyes together, 'Why not just use this flower? Why do we have to go out of our way to make whatever acid—'

'Because… Because — and I can't stress this enough — reapers, stitchreapers, they are not undead, at least not in the technical term. And you… you saw what happened, it didn't kill it. I had to get rid of the entire bottle in order to do some damage.'

'Damage! There! You said it, you can damage—'

'No… no! Stop jumping to conclusions and listen to me for once.'

'I've done nothing but listen to you and every single thing you say is bullshit.'

'Oh really? Well, excuse me for getting a proper education.'

'Hey… hey, don't start that now. You don't know me and this "proper education" will only get you far in a desk job. Now in my life, in the places, I go and jobs I take experience is what saves your skin. Believe me, little lady, if you were living my life you wouldn't last a day in the Outla-'

'What does that have to do with who I am?' She clenched her jaw, 'Not everyone has to suffer like you did in order to have "experience." I don't give a single damn about who you are, and what you went through. And guess what, you're the same! We're just two egotistical knobheads who irritate each other at every chance they get, and all they want is to use each other in order to save their own skin, that's it.'

There was some truth to what she said. Of course, when someone starts arguing, they tend to spout the most nonsensical of things. But she was right. To set it even more right, it was Aten's fault to begin with. He got her roped into his problems. Even if she was after that ludicrous stone from before, she couldn't possibly anticipate the probability that her head would be due on the chopping block. Aten knew all of that. But if she was really out for herself—

'You know, you could just fuck off entirely. I don't have the elastinum anymore, I lost it.'

'Wait…,' She was shocked, her entire reason for being here was forever lost, 'That's not—'

'Isn't that why you saved me?' Aten asked, his eyes locked on Eeira's, filled with determination, 'Cause I had the rock you wanted — which is kinda dumb if you asked me. I mean, why'd you save me?

'Excuse me?'

'If you were trying to save yourself, then why'd you save me? You could have just made a run for it, or hid away until the danger was gone. Sure, I'd probably be dead. But you would have still been safe. So why? Why'd you help me?'

She gave out no response.

Aten sighed, 'Alright… just sit back here. Don't do anything, I'll take care of it on my own.'

'What? No…,' she looked at Aten with worry.

He was never able to understand her. Some of her words, actions, behaviors contradict each other; it was uncanny. And he was tired of all that, he was tired of playing this stupid game of trying to find out what was going on through her head. If she suffered from a personality disorder, he would have understood her better, but the short of it was that she didn't.

'I'm not going to the mansion… yet,' he finished up his drink and grabbed his shotgun, 'My bag's over there in case you needed a weapon… but I'm sure it's nothing compared to your little secret magic pocket,' he grabbed the doorknob but then turned back to the room again, 'And uh… don't think about money, because I sure as hell don't have any.'

Eeira felt offended by Aten's comment. It almost painted her as a cunning crook. Nevertheless, she let him leave without an argument. She couldn't entirely blame him for that though, since she was the one who seemed rather greedy about the elastinum, and she was, in fact, helping him for her benefit only — until a certain point.

— So why couldn't I let him die? She wondered.

She knew why. There was no chance for her to be able to solve the mansion's problem without him. And the same applied to him. They both needed each other to be able to pull through this matter together. But both were too stubborn and confused to even think about the right thing to do.

Of course, they might have gotten off to a bad start, and things almost resolved itself, yet they were back to point zero once again, all because of a stupid plan.