The entity disguised as a man beckoned Jack forward. Turning his back, the stranger said, “Come, we have little time, I suspect.”

Despite the Blue Heart’s warning and his own trepidation, Jack walked up to stand in front of the statue. He aimed a sidelong glance at the stranger who continued to admire it. Now that he was standing next to him, he noticed the alien nature of the stranger’s facial features. He was vaguely human, yet the symmetry in his appearance was too great. His face lacked the small imperfections which marked nearly all living creatures. Even at a glance, he was surreal, simultaneously evoking feelings of confusion and familiarity.

“Who are you?” Jack asked. He kept his tone even to hide the anxiety lurking beneath. On the walk through the train station, he had tried to summon his Status and use his Skills. It hadn’t worked which meant that he was practically defenseless if the situation devolved into conflict.

Rather than answering his question, the stranger gestured at the statue and said, “It is a wonderful work of art, wouldn’t you agree?”

Jack’s mouth twitched with the beginnings of a scowl as his question was ignored. He closed his eyes and exhaled to release some of the pent-up tension. Deciding to play along, he looked at the statue, examining its appearance for the first time.

Truthfully, it was an incredible feat of artistry. Whoever had created the statue had to have been a master at their craft. From a distance, he hadn’t been able to tell but up close, he could see the nuances in the effigy’s features. It depicted a broad-shouldered male with thick hair that spilled over his shoulders and down his back. His face was downright bestial as though he was a fusion of a man and a savage beast. A long scar going from his left eye to his jawline pulled down the corner of his mouth into a permanent scowl. He wore simple clothing and a long coat which swept dramatically behind him. He stood with one foot atop a lump of black metal and one hand raised in triumph while the other gripped the haft of a mace-like weapon which rested against his shoulder. Notably, the statue’s hair was sculpted from a lighter material than the rest and its one good eye was inlaid with some kind of gold. At the bottom, there was an inscription scrawled in an alien language that he couldn’t read.

The rift signal that he sensed was nestled within the statue, somewhat muted compared to the previous one that he used to enter this world. He hoped he wouldn’t have to destroy the statue in order to access the rift.

As the thought crossed his mind, the knot of anxiety inside gave way to deep sadness which seemed out of place. The poignant emotion confused Jack even further and, in the end, all looking at the statue did was aggravate him. It raised more questions than it answered like so much else in his life. Nonetheless, he swallowed his frustration for the moment; it was a familiar cycle. Given the presence exuded by the stranger, he would be best served keeping his emotions in check.

“It is impressive,” Jack admitted. He relaxed his stance clasping both hands behind his back as he appreciated the craftsmanship. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

“Ah, forgive me. Old habits die hard,” the stranger chuckled and his face settled into an easy smile. Turning to face Jack, he extended a hand. “Asmodai Drakar, but you may call me Drake.”

After a moment of hesitation, Jack took the hand. Their eyes met and the familiar sensation at the back of his mind intensified. He looked down at Drake’s hands. Unlike the rest of his perfect appearance, they were scarred, as though the flesh had been burned then healed long ago. The sight of those hands forced a memory lodged at the border of his thoughts to click into place. He vaguely remembered this stranger.

“This…,” He peered into Drake’s scarlet eyes, searching for an answer to the question posed by his recollection. “This isn’t the first time we’ve done this…”

Another hint of cruel amusement danced across Drake’s face. “Quite right, Jaxanus.”

There’s that name again. Was that my name? Jack frowned. W had called him Jack and it said as much on his Status so he had always assumed that that was his name. He briefly considered playing along in order to pull more information out of the stranger but he dismissed the idea. He sensed a cunning intellect from Drake. In a game of deception, he would be woefully outmatched; of that, he was certain. This memory I have... I must’ve known him before I came to Fracture but I can’t remember the details.

“Jaxanus…,” he said, saying it aloud in the hopes that it would trigger another memory. It didn’t; like other personal mysteries he encountered, it teased him just beyond the border of his memory. “You speak as if we have history but I’m unfamiliar with that name. My name is Jack.”

He released the handshake yet before their hands parted, Drake squeezed his hand in a way that might’ve been friendly were it not for the stranger’s sinister mien. Drake faced the statue once more.

“I see. Again, forgive me. As I said, old habits die hard. No matter what form you take, it’s difficult for me to not think of you as the man I met so long ago. Ah, that does take me back…”

‘No matter what form’? Jack glanced at his uncovered hand. The blue metallic flesh gleamed even in the dull light of the strange world. Since he awoke on Fracture, his body had been changing. Every hint he had pointed to the change being the work of the Blue Heart affecting his body; Ciel had alluded to it as well. However, the stranger’s words threw doubt on his conclusion. Frustratingly, Drake spoke as though they had all the time in the world although one of the first things that he said implied his knowledge of the opposite being true. More twice-damned mystery. To hell with subtlety, the clock is ticking down and so is my patience. I can't let him dictate the pace here.

The set of his jaw hardened as he said, “Enough pleasantries. I’ve precious little time for you to reminisce. What do you want? Speak plainly or I’ll be on my way.”

Drake laughed. The sound made Jack's skin crawl. “Now, you are starting to sound like the man you were when you killed me.”

Jack’s face went blank. He wasn’t sure how to respond to the stranger’s statement, especially given the flippantly casual tone in which it was delivered. His gaze flickered to the timer at the corner of his field of view. He was wasting too much time. All the same, Drake clearly had information pertaining to his past; information that Jack wanted dearly.

“You are right though. There is little time to reminisce,” His face grew serious and his entire demeanor shifted. The change was so great that Jack had to stop himself from taking a step back reflexively. Drake held up his left hand out, palm facing Jack. “Let the words of this fallen be heard. I have come to fulfill my pledge as set forth by the Covenant of Zoharim. Awaken, eternal soldier. Claim your Gnosis and be whole.”

The words spilled forth with authority surpassing even that of the Twilight King and Pope Bohum. Jack steeled his mind the moment Drake began to speak, wary of words uttered with such power. As they washed over him, the Blue Heart quaked with fear and his body stiffened in expectation. However, contrary to his suspicion, the words did not summon any destructive power or subvert the dominance of his will. They flowed through his thoughts like the lines of an old song he’d heard before but couldn’t recall. At first, it was quiet, barely a whisper compared to Drake’s utterance. Then, it began to grow. From the depths of his mind, hundreds of memories, fragmented and disjointed, spiraled to the surface. They were fragments each carrying the same words. The mass of remembrance filled his mind until a phantom pressure began to build in his skull. He gritted his teeth as the pressure grew.

Drake. He couldn’t trust the Infernal, no matter what he said. He looked down at the man’s smiling face and his unnatural scarlet eyes. The man disrupted the balance for his own amusement. If it came to it, he was confident in his ability to survive a fight. Winning though…

The man’s scarlet eyes twinkled in cruel amusement. It was an interesting game that the man played though he was not half as clever as he thought he was. He already knew of Drake’s motivations. Like those who came before him, he would use the Infernal in his own way.

He hugged Drake. It was good to see him again. They were kindred spirits after all. Across the many lives that he’d lived, few appreciated the connection they shared with the man, instead choosing to fret over past betrayals and lies told. It was all trivial compared to the enemy.

Jack collapsed to his knees, his hands gripping his head which throbbed with pain. He couldn’t bear the influx. Something was wrong. The memories weren’t whole. Each fragment added to a chaotic maelstrom of thoughts yet nothing took hold. Below the surface, he sensed a dark shard of recollection. It was at the center of the chaos, still as death. Hoping it might be similar to the eye of a storm, Jack pushed toward it catching glimpses of deeper memories in the process.

He was standing on the crest of a hill overlooking a battlefield that stretched to the horizon. Blood and screams filled the air. Beside him, his companion nursed a wound inflicted by the enemy. She put on a brave face but they both knew she would die. They all would.

Ten thousand three hundred and sixty-four. It was the number of times he swung his sword each day. One swing for every life he had taken. He could not forget those who had fallen to his blade. If he did, the line between him and the enemy lost its clarity.

He smiled at his son. The youngling was smart yet he lacked the willpower necessary for the fight ahead. No matter, he would teach him. The child needed to know suffering. Suffering brought growth and separated the weak from the strong. He smiled at his son. Then, he hit him.

The surgical implement sliced into the subject’s flesh without much resistance. He noted the viscosity of her bodily humors. Strange. He had not seen such a reaction to the enemy’s corruption before. The subject screamed in pain. She would likely die from the procedure. It mattered little; sacrifices were necessary.

He walked through the crowded streets with little difficulty. The people parted for him, some in deference, others out of fear. Of all the warriors, he was the mightiest. It was a necessary strength for the enemy he faced was greater than any other. He would not— could not— falter.

He groaned. It was all too much. Somehow, he found the strength to reach the center of the mental storm yet when he tried to make contact with it, the pressure inverted. Instead of flowing outward, the memories began to cascade into the depths of his mind. He realized what was happening and tried to stop it but they passed through his mental grasp like vapor in a net. By the end, he trembled gasping on his hands and knees. He kept hold of the fragments that he had glimpsed but everything else was gone. The answers to his past had been within his grasp and they had slipped away.

“No!” he cried, slamming his fist into the ground. His injured shoulder protested the motion and cracks spiderwebbed out from the point of impact. He got to his feet, ignoring the pain and the precious seconds counting down. Although the chaos had faded from his mind, his thoughts were scattered. It was as though his consciousness struggled to find its place in the emptiness left by the maelstrom’s passing. He grabbed Drake by the collar of his suit with his good arm. “What did you do to me?!”

Drake’s eyes narrowed as he met Jack’s unfocused gaze. There was a moment of silence between them and then, he laughed. Unlike before, the laugh was full and hearty coming from his center and cutting through the tension in the air. There was genuine mirth in the laughter yet his eyes revealed the sadistic glee behind it all.

“So, you chose to cripple yourself after all?” Even without the lost memories, Jack could tell Drake wasn’t talking to him— at least not the current him. He brushed Jack’s hand away with casual strength despite his slim build and readjusted his collar. Jack bristled but did nothing. With the knowledge that he had now, he knew Drake was too powerful for him to handle as he was. “You never cease to amuse me with your propensity for self-inflicted suffering, old friend.”

Jack tried and failed to calm himself. His emotions were all over the place. He was still trying to come to grips with the things he had seen. Suddenly, he went stiff as one of the memories played out again in his mind. It had been the last one before he attempted to touch the dark fragment at the center of the mental storm. The feel of his body in the memory, his strength, his battle prowess; the sensation of it all drew his eyes to the statue in front of him. His gaze traveled over the effigy once more, viewing it in a new light. When he reached the bottom, he wasn’t even surprised that he could read the writing inscribed there.

It read: Ja’kar, Champion of Mecerna. Martyr of Verden’ran. “If our enemy is unrelenting, then we shall be unyielding.”

He blinked, struggling with shock, disbelief, and a host of other emotions. His mouth went dry and his next words came with difficulty. “I… This is me… but I—”

He stopped as the significance of his recovered memories finally settled. His breath quickened until he started to feel lightheaded. Past lives? How many? The enemy? Corruption? Death? Who— what— am I?

As his heart started to race, the Blue Heart sent a surge of soothing emotions to his mind. It was the equivalent of a mental hug and it caught Jack so off-guard that forgot his panic. Once it passed, he shook his head. He looked to Drake in search of answers but found only callous delight in his scarlet eyes. “I can’t believe this. You pulled some kind of trick.”

Even as he said the words, he didn’t believe them. His doubt was superficial, more in defense of his sanity than a true denial of the reality before him.

Drake said, "It seems whatever method you used to reject your Gnosis wasn't wholly successful."

Sighing, he asked, “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what I want to know if I ask nicely?”

“I’m afraid not. I’ve fulfilled my pledge for now,” Drake chuckled. Then, his smile widened into a Cheshire grin. “However, if you’d like to make a deal, that’s a different story.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“How about a trade?” Drake proposed. “You give me that corrupted item in your belt and I will answer any questions you have.”

“Not happening,” Jack said, almost instantly. If the memories were clear on anything, it was that Drake couldn’t be trusted. Whatever the Dark Maker’s Key was, he wouldn’t hand it over to someone so blatantly nefarious. He pointed at the Ore Father’s Token. It was precious but not so much so that he wouldn’t trade it for the secrets of his past. “How about this?”

Drake barely spared the medallion a glance. “I’ve no interest in trinkets. If you’ve no interest in a material trade, then what say you to a favor for a favor?” He snapped his fingers and a coin forged of red metal appeared between his two fingers. He held the coin up. “Should you find yourself in Tartarus, find the woman who holds a coin identical to this one and free her from her prison. If you manage that, I will tell you what I know.”

A shiver ran down Jack’s spine as it clicked. He had never considered how he understood Drake despite the fact that they met in a world whose language he couldn’t comprehend until a few moments ago. Drake hadn’t been speaking continuously with words of power that transcended language like Bohum. Even the Dark One had come from within Jack so he had never thought it strange when he understood the creature. Someone as powerful as Drake could have a variety of methods for circumventing language barriers but the simplest answer was that the scarlet-eyed entity had been to Fracture.

A warning sounded in his mind and he saw that he was running out of time. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was signing up for but he didn’t have the time to negotiate. I’ll just have to accept and decide later if it's worth it.

“Fine, but you will speak truthfully when the time comes,” he said.

“Of course, old friend,” Drake’s eyes twinkled as he placed the coin in Jack’s outstretched hand. “We have a deal.”

Jack cried out in pain as the red coin vanished into his palm leaving an identical brand in its place. Drake laughed at his discomfort and Jack sorely wanted to punch him in the face. “Best of luck, Jack. Perhaps the next time we meet, you will have the same body.”

With that, Drake snapped his fingers again and a portal opened up a few feet away. He walked through without another word.

Both Jack and the Blue Heart seethed at the act. The power that he used to open the portal had been violent and chaotic. When Jack opened a rift, he was easing open a tear that already existed. It was like opening a door. What Drake did was the equivalent of bursting through a wall to create an entrance. He pushed down his anger. It was time to leave.

His eyes lingered on the effigy of Ja’kar, of him in a previous life. So many questions flitted through his mind chasing shadows of memories lost. Sadly, this dying world had no answers for him. He reached out for the rift within the effigy. Thankfully, it answered readily. He gathered his concentration and opened the gate.