The Otamba Bridge — one of the seven in the entire Llaisy Kingdom, spanned more than a thousand feet across the Delgia River. An emblem of the link between the Graken Mountains up north and the Sea of Mone down south, the bridge was one of the most beautiful in the Empire. To the east, the illuminated facade of the Naowa Palace stood proudly against the bell towers made in reverence to the Goddess Okuninushi. To the west, high atop the Sunder Hill, stood the fortified walls of the Banksi Mansion. And northward, on the other bank of the Delgia, stretched the elegant spires of the Haviskali Ether Forges, the largest in all of the Llaisy Kingdom.

Tanya and Lukas were enjoying lunch under the warm summer sun on a floating hotel near the bridge. In the end, the two of them had left the Zwaray Keep safe and sound, with Lukas grinning like a loon and herself sweating buckets out of sheer paranoia. Too exhausted to count the number of things Lukas had fucked up, she had dropped the idea of returning to the Banksi compound and instead, chosen to have one last meal of comfort.

“I did not expect today, Lukas,” she said, pulling his eyes away from the scenery. They were sitting at a table for two on the deck, with a few other couples nearby, though none of them were close enough to overhear their conversation.

“One can never know the future, can they?”

There had been absolutely no hiccups after Lukas had offered his proposition. With a speed that defied bremetan comprehension, the svartalfars had a separate unit installed for him just within the citadel walls. They had even gotten an Eztli contract prepared, much to her amusement. Trying to ‘bind’ Lukas into following a contract using the name of the Great Goddess would be slightly less effective than ‘scolding’ him, though the lethal blood curse was something to worry about. But what had shocked her most was the casual way with which he had handled the entire matter, and the impossible things he had said during the exchange.

“You really think there’ll be no consequences?” She asked, taking a tip from her glass. “The things you demanded from the svartalfars — they butcher people for less. Much, much less. I’m not sure whether to call it bravery or recklessness.”

“You mustn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling,” He said, idly turning a piece of meat around with his fork.

“What I can’t understand is how you’ll keep your promise to them. You promised them impossible things, Lukas.”

He grinned. “Exactly.”

Tanya narrowed her eyes.

“The thing about impossible things,” Lukas said, still toying with the piece of meat, “is that they are rare and precious and often require equally impossible circumstances, which more often than not, comes with a Time factor. An indeterminate Time factor.”

“I don’t understand.”

Lukas grinned. “To put it simply, I lied.”

The glass slipped from her fingers. Before she could react, wine splattered over her top. Glaring at Lukas for what was obviously his fault, she whispered, “You — you lied? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Lukas slouched back into his chair with one elbow resting on the table. “Certainly not. I told them it’s possible to get small amounts of featherglass, but never set a date for delivery. Will those guys not realize that? Yes, they will, but we’re giving them some featherglass right now, which means maybe we can drag a year’s worth of time from them before having to commit on a date. An entire year of unrestrained access into their borderlands. Even if we do not end up getting them any featherglass and they drop the deal, the fortune we’ll make from the borderlands will be massive.”

Tanya blinked. “You—you're telling me that all of that back then was a big scam?”

Lukas just looked amused.

“But then — the requirement for the ward stone? You made it look like it was essential for acquiring the featherglass.”

“Oh that.” He bit into his food. “One illusion on top of the other. Makes the entire thing feel more concrete.” He let out a soft chuckle. “I need it for an entirely different reason.”

“Which is?”

“Irrelevant as of now.” Lukas shot her question down. “I’ll let you know when it’s time.”

But Tanya knew. The pillars gathered the World’s Energy into them, much like how an anomaly held tremendous amounts of World Energy within it. And she suspected she knew where Lukas was going with it.

“It’s your ticket back home, isn’t it?” She asked. “That spell you performed in the anomaly. It didn’t work out. So this is your way to re-attempt it over and over and until you get it right.”

She could have been wrong, but his eyes appeared somewhat troubled and distant by her words. No doubt he was thinking of home, or maybe — maybe he was thinking about that goddess. Something within her twisted at the thought, but she suppressed it with prejudice. “You’re using their greed to get you home.”

“Am I, now?” A frown crossed Lukas’s face. “Would that be such a bad thing? Maybe I have people waiting for me back there. In my world, you know.”

A spark of amusement flickered across his face. “They say the home is where the heart is. And I always carry a bit of my world with me.”

Tanya frowned and pushed her plate away and sat up straight in her chair. Despite his casual conversation, Lukas was only half-there. Ever since he had regained his focus, he had been… different. That confidence she had seen in him back in the anomaly was still there, only it was now tempered with loss and practicality. Often she’d see him stare at the distant horizon, or check his schema, as if verifying something over and over. Tanya barely looked at her own, except for perhaps the times when she gained a level. It made her wonder if the Outsider’s Schema differed from her own, and if so, how.

She had stayed away from asking him if he had gained any skills from killing Hreidmar. The sheer concept was silly. The idea of someone ‘killing’ monsters and absorbing their skills into himself was absurd on so many levels that Tanya found it embarrassing to even raise the point. Still, she had seen him replicate the former Guardian’s corrosive abilities, but back then, the anomaly had tried to possess him — or something like that. Could Anomalies even possess others? Or maybe Lukas hadn’t understood what was going on, and it had been the sludge that had possessed him? It’d explain the sudden emergence of those abilities, and the alien, murderous disposition that felt so out-of-place on that young, scruffy face.

Then why, why did it feel like he was hiding a deep and powerful secret? That his presence, his queer abilities — they all represented something so terrible and great that even she couldn’t comprehend. Was it because he had suppressed her Frost? Maybe, maybe not. He had shown the capacity to drain immense amounts of energy — first from the anomaly, and then from the ward stone, which meant that his body, regardless of how he appeared, could channel vast quantities of energy, enough to make her own capacity seem insignificant. For someone that had always fought an uphill battle to keep her powers restrained, being in the constant presence of someone that overwhelmed her in power felt paradoxical.

And weird.

Definitely weird and—

Lukas snapped his fingers.

“....” Tanya blinked. “Uh, yeah?”

“What’s on your mind?”

A hundred and twenty-two different things, and they all had something to do with him. But there was no way she’d admit that out loud.

“Just thinking about Zuken.”

“What of him?”

“The contract. I know we got what we went there for, but the wording of the contract,” She paused, licking her dry lips, “He’s not gonna be pleased.”

“And?”

She narrowed her eyes. “He’s your benefactor and employer.”

“Actually, he’s only my employer, and I’m yet to get that part in writing, so even that’s debatable. The only real employment I have now is with the svartalfars. Just look at how far we’ve got. Our very first mission, just two days from now.”

“That’s not gonna be enough. He’s getting you documentation. Even the Overseer knows you’re his guy.”

Lukas stretched his arms and put them behind his head. “No.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “Zuken has only as much claim to my power as I’m willing to allow, and frankly, if he throws a tantrum like a spoiled brat just because I have my agenda, then that’s just… sad. That said…” He trailed off, looking at the Ether Forges on his right, “I’m not ignorant of his kindness, even if its done to further his own personal agenda.”

He met her eyes. “It’s true he gave me this chance of making myself a legitimate adventurer, and he’s getting me into this 'Choosing' rubbish, but the stronger I get, it only helps him.”

“But what you’re doing will make an enemy out of him.”

Lukas eyed her. No matter how much she wanted to look away, Tanya couldn’t. It was like… gravity. Watching him like this reminded her of his negotiation with Dvalinn and the rest of the councilmen, where he had stood in the center, surrounded by soldiers and creatures overwhelming him in strength and yet maintained his hold at being the Power in the room.

“Listen, Tanya,” he said, “I don’t enjoy starting wars. In fact, I avert them. But,” His voice became heavy, “if there’s a war, I’ll end it.”

It was scary the way he said it. With no melodrama at all. He might as well just tell her he was going to take out the trash. It reminded her of her own grandfather — a twisted megalomaniac bastard that would stop at nothing if he set his eyes upon a goal. And Lukas Aguilar was, as much as she hated it, a person who donned multiple masks, making the real person behind them impossible to even identify, much less understand. He was mostly an idiot with no sense of self-preservation, or a buffoon that went toe-to-toe with others, drunk on his own strength. And then there would be moments when she felt like she was watching Zuken Banksi in action — a shark at Asukan politics. The way he had gotten the svartalfars eating out of his hands while promising literally nothing was something she was still having trouble wrapping her mind around.

Tanya had been reading people all her life. She considered it something she was good at. And at the moment, Lukas Aguilar radiated with confidence, a belief so firm that it could balance the weight of the world upon its shoulders. Tanya’s senses were screaming at her, telling her she was in the presence of one of the most dangerous individuals she had ever encountered—

—and he was only twenty-one years old.

Tanya composed her expression and grabbed her glass again. “It’s not about starting or ending a war. Zuken arranged for us to get it done so that you could get into the borderlands and gain a proper kami. But you—”

“Took a cheap shot at him because I could? That he sent me there with good intentions in mind and instead, I leveraged him?”

“That’s how it looks, yes.”

Lukas scowled. “Well then, he should have had the sense to inform me of what was about to happen beforehand. Neither he, nor you, nor the others — no one mentioned anything about svartalfars, or this deal. I only got the information at the last second, and so when I saw a shot, I took it. ”

Tanya remained silent for a moment. “If Banksi goes against you—”

“Tattle on me for being an Outsider?” Lukas challenged. “Sure he can. Just like I can revoke the contract at any point and give the featherglass away to the svartalfars. That should be enough to grant me asylum until I figure a way out.”

Tanya pursed her lips, now completely stiff. “You’re overestimating yourself and underestimating others. The Empire is a dangerous place, especially for foreigners. And you're—”

“An Outsider, yes, I know,” Lukas waved it off. “And I’ve noticed. Foreigners, other species, half-breeds — they're treated worse, not that I need to tell you about that.”

She clenched her fists. “Excuse me?”

Lukas cocked his head. “I’m rather good at studying spiritual information. And I know you’re a bremetan, and you’ve a kami, but that’s not all. That Frost you have — it’s something else. Something powerful and dangerous and ancient, almost enough to classify you as a—”

“Shut up!” Tanya hissed, palming her hands on the table. “I was being hunted because I committed a Sin. I destroyed an anomaly, and they wanted to punish me for it.”

“And then Zuken hired you to destroy another in exchange for freedom.”

“Yes, and that’s all there is to it.”

Lukas eyed her. His brown eyes gazed at her, judging her. Like she was naked before that stare. That he wasn’t so much looking at her, but through her.

“I believe you,” he said at last, and looked away..

“Good,” Tanya replied, a weird feeling of sadness gripping inside her. Like she had failed at something simple. She felt… wasted, like she had broken something beyond repair. She didn’t know how, but there was something in that stare that’d haunt her in the days to come.

Her life was shitty like that.