Fire streamed around Jiroh for several seconds, melting entire sections of the cloud away. Dallion’s heart sank. Euryale had been a few dozen feet further ahead before the blast. The moment the flames were gone, Dallion split into two dozen instances, rushing in her direction. A large hole loomed in the ground of the citadel, reaching all the way down to the ocean itself. As for the gorgon, there was no trace.

Unwilling to accept this, instances of Dallion leapt into the ocean in an attempt to spot any trace of her. Unfortunately, there was nothing.

“Eury’s fine,” Jiroh said. While she wasn’t using her awakened powers, she still had the ability to see others split. “She jumped through to avoid the blast.”

“Are you sure?” Dallion felt a boost of hope fill his chest.

“I felt the vibrations,” the fury replied.

“You pieces of shit!” the mage screamed.

She had fallen considerably, almost reaching the ocean itself. Her entire right sleeve was shredded, along with her arm. Her legs and torso were only in slightly better condition. However, she had managed to use her left hand to cast a protective sphere around her in time to save herself from Gleam.

“You think that’ll take me down?” she asked, breathing heavily.

Thanks to his music skill, Dallion could tell that she was still scared, though there were signs of relief. For a moment, there had been a real possibility of her dying, but no more. Still, it had suggested that she was overly reliant on magic. One single hiccup—and not even a good one—and she had ended up in such a state. No doubt the fire blast had taken a lot of her. The only reason she had resorted to it at all was out of desperation to get rid of any attackers. That had only worked in part. The power of the blast had thrown Gleam a fair distance away, but since the whip blade was invulnerable, it had flown back, and was now still slamming against the protective magic sphere.

Onda, you okay? Dallion asked, remembering the hammer.

Fine, fine… the guardian replied in a passive aggressive fashion. Nothing to threaten me, but a few fish. A few very stupid fish…

I’ll get you once I’m done, Dallion replied.

Sadly, that was easier said than done. While wounded and shaken, the mage was starting to regain her self-composure. Already she had created a healing pattern in the air—Dallion could easily recognize it from his fights at the arena. In five, or ten seconds at most, she would be back on the offensive and this time she wouldn’t be just toying with them.

Quickly, Dallion used his thread cutter to slice another opening beneath him.

“Let’s go,” he whispered to Jiroh.

In his mind, Dallion was almost sure he saw the fury smile—a barely noticeable curve of the lips—just before he was pulled down into the cloud. The sensation was like flying through vapor and light water combined. Most of him barely felt any pressure, while the sea iron elements on his armor pulled him back, offering significant resistance. Jiroh was in front, flying forward like a comet.

Within moments, a wave of energy passed through everything, causing the cloud matter itself to vibrate.

More explosions, Dallion thought.

The mage had no intention of giving up, even if she had to destroy everything in the process. Not long after, there was a second set of vibrations, though considerably weaker.

She’s heading in the wrong direction, Dallion thought.

Don’t let your guard down! Nil shouted within Dallion’s realm. She’s got enough power to blast the entire citadel three times over.

Judging by the tension in his voice, that was more than a metaphor. And just to confirm it, a new set of vibrations passed through Dallion, this time strong enough to make his teeth rattle.

“How much further?” he shouted.

“I don’t know,” Jiroh replied. “They were everywhere before. A lot of them must have weakened.”

Or died out, Dallion thought, though he didn’t say it. Since there was part of the citadel afloat, there had to be at least one creature. What was more, Dallion had seen with his own eyes the cloud city restore itself from the devastation caused. By all logic there had to be at least one, though how long could it withstand the rampage?

“Move closer to the water!” Dallion shouted.

“What?” Jiroh hesitated. “Why?”

“The creatures, they’ve been wanting to pass on for hundreds of years. If they had a choice, how would that do that?”

Dallion felt his entire body twist as the fury changed direction. It had taken her a few moments to figure out what he was telling her. Lingering doubt could still be felt emanating from the fury, but she had decided to put her trust in an empath.

The further the pair went, the darker the clouds around him became. Soon enough, Dallion could feel an unmistakable chill—they had gone underwater. Despite that, there seemed to be a faint sensation of life.

“They’re sleeping!” Dallion said, astonished. “They’re at the very bottom of the citadel sleeping.”

Someplace calm and dark—the only place the beings that could be creatures could go to sleep, far away from the pain of reality. Even in this world, everything slowly got old. Clouds were no exception. It had taken them millennia to reach this state, but in the end, they had.

Lux, give some light, Dallion ordered.

Right away! The firebird chirped. The kaleidervisto made its way out of Dallion’s pouch, then moved forward in front of Jiroh, illuminating everything with a bright blue light. As Dallion suspected, the cloud matter surrounding him stirred, like a sleepy kitten pulling away from the sun.

“They’re here,” Dallion said.

Jiroh needed no telling, she already knew. Emotions stronger than Dallion had ever felt: memories of childhood, the joy of finding friends, and the sadness of losing them. What was more, they weren’t all emanating only from Jiroh, but from everywhere around. What remained of the cloud creatures had woken up. Pulses of energy could be felt flashing through the area, like synapses firing up.

“You’re back,” a voice said. It wasn’t in any language Dallion had spoken, yet he still understood it. “We didn’t think you’d come.”

“When the other took you away, we thought we’d be alone.”

“I’m back,” Jiroh replied, her voice sounding almost identical to what Dallion had seen in her memory. “I told you I’d come back.”

“And stronger,” another voice said.

“Much stronger. Do you still want to go back to your home?

“We can open the path for you.”

Dallion’s heart tightened. They were truly hoping for this—the chance to transform into pure energy and help someone in the process. Did they consider Jiroh a friend? From what he could see, they felt so. What would happen to them after, though? Would the energy simply be used up and vanish? Or would it banish them so they could return as a guardian?”

Dal, Gleam said through his domain. Whatever you’re doing, better do it fast! The mage is heading your way.

How do you know where I am?

Half the citadel lit up a moment ago! And I’m not talking about the part above water!

Crap! “Jiroh, start whatever you must start,” Dallion said. “She’s coming. I’ll buy as much time as I can.” He split into instances.

In his mind, Dallion imagined things very differently. There, the clouds had moved him in the direction he had arrived, allowing him to have one last faceoff with the mage, while the fury was sent off to her world. Normally, that’s what would have happened as well… if only he hadn’t combat split.

Indeed, part of his instances were thrust away, and even faced the approaching mage. Others didn’t. Unfortunately, him being an otherworlder combined with the sacrifice the cloud hearts made, created for a whole different experience. In that one second, all instances were real, and not only his. The massive cloud citadel imploded, creating a bubble of energy no larger than a room. Left without protection, several instances of Dallion got the air kicked out of their lungs. A short distance away, the mage’s protection sphere shattered. Spells and magic alike vanished, leaving her completely defenseless. A few more moments and she would have drowned, but Dallion didn’t get to see that. Just dozens of him were dying, one was swallowed by the bubble of energy. That was the instance that counted the most.

Suddenly everything disappeared, and Dallion found himself in the middle of an endless star-filled sky. The only difference was that the sky was white.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” A Moon appeared—a Cyan Moon.

“And he isn’t,” Felygn said as his own form emerged from the whiteness.

“He’s here, and he’s not,” the Orange Moon said. “Leave it to otherworlders to gather together to create such a mess. I suppose it could have been worse.”

Where am I? Dallion wondered.

“That’s the question,” Felygn said, far less amused than Dallion expected him to be. “You’re nowhere at the same time.”

That didn’t even make sense. Thinking as hard as he might, Dallion tried to decipher the meaning behind the Moon’s words. He could understand being nowhere, he could also understand being everywhere at the same time, but the combination of words Felygn used was meaningless no matter the context.

“There could be a loophole,” the red Moon said as it appeared. “It’s been done before.”

“It’s already happened,” a voice much stronger than every other said.

Looking above, Dallion saw the blue moon hovering in the middle of all the rest. That was the Moon of Awakening—the most powerful moon of all, and the one who looked over humans and awakened alike. Under normal circumstances, Dallion would have expected the Moon patroning his race to be more favorably invalided. From what he could sense that wasn’t the case, though.

“What’s done is done,” the Blue Moon boomed. “From here on, it’s for them to settle things. None of us are to get involved.”

“Wait,” Dallion rushed to add a word in. “What is—"

The moment he blinked, the whiteness had gone. He was on the cloud once more, with Jiroh beside him. Yet, this wasn’t the cloud citadel he knew; this cloud was far smaller, barely the size of an indoor swimming pool. And that was just the start of the difference. The landscape was nothing like it had been moments ago. The ocean was replaced by a vast sea of lights covering land, clouds, and mountains alike. Looking at it made Dallion think of a sci-fi version of New York. Thousands of clouds, creatures, and people moved about, flying from one spot to another along invisible lanes of air. The thing was that all the people were furies.

“Dal?” Jiroh asked both confused and alarmed. “Why are you here?”

Dallion looked around. Jiroh’s clothes had changed to something more akin to a shirt and jeans. She was no longer shimmering, indicating this was the place she belonged in. He, in contrast, was exactly the same as he had been before entering her world, complete with the sea iron additions to his armor. The only difference was that other than the thread splitter he was holding, none of his other weapons were here.

Nil? Dallion instinctively called out to his echo. There was no response. When Dallion attempted to enter his personal realm, he found that he couldn’t. For all intents and purposes, it was as if his powers had been sealed.

“I don’t know,” he replied, fighting the panic within him. The only thing that partially calmed him down was the fact that he could feel the emotions within the fury. Apparently, access to his realm was all he had lost. “Is this your world?” he forced himself to ask in an attempt to focus his mind on something else.

“You can’t be seen looking like that,” Jiroh said with the same calm connectedness she had back in the awakened world. “There aren’t any humans on Flora. If people find you—”

“I get the idea,” Dallion interrupted as he looked at the ground. “That’s not our biggest problem, though.”

Jiroh looked in his direction. Down, lying on the ground ten feet below, was none other than the mage that had attacked them. And she was completely unconscious.