Die. Respawn. Repeat.

Chapter 153: Book 3: Collection

One thing I hadn't really considered on the way down is that the flower's blooming outside the building—the inside isn't exactly filled with pretty blue petals or anything remotely flower-adjacent. Instead, what we come across is a pulsing root structure that's filled with what looks like electrical signals running across the tendrils—electrical signals that flash a bright blue as they travel, leaking color-shifted Firmament.

It's clear even before we get there what we're supposed to do. There's something that looks like a glass orb attached to the base of the flower, with a number of vines and roots coiled protectively around it; within the orb is a source of intense Firmament, strong enough that I can feel it even without stretching my senses from where we are, several floors above it.

"Be careful," Guard says, though the remark isn't needed. Ahkelios and I are both at full alert. I've asked Ahkelios if he wanted to demanifest, save himself from the influence of this aura, but he shook his head insistently and said he could help. I can't say I blame him—I would've done the same.

Though I doubt bringing him into my soul would be enough to protect him, anyway. Something about the Remnant of him here... it's strong. The glimpse of it I caught when I reached out with my senses was enough to tell me that it's not something I'm going to defeat easily, even as I am now. Maybe even with the Knight's help.x

Ahkelios has a powerful link with me, but this Remnant is trying to forge a new one with him. Reaching out through Firmament and Color, touching on the fragment of his soul that's sheltered within my own. I bring to bear all the power I can spare to protect it, coiling Firmament protectively around our link, but that's all I can do—protect what we have. There's nothing within my repertoire I can use to prevent a new link from forming.

I'm not worried about it, in truth. I know I should be. The idea that anyone is messing with Ahkelios—even if it's a Remnant of him—sends a cold tendril of anger through my gut.

But I've changed. I'm a third-layer practitioner, and there's a confidence I have now that I didn't have before. My second phase shift, when I determined who I wanted to be, who I would be...

I will be strong enough to define a future on my own terms. Fear will not define my choices. I will choose kindness and mercy and compassion, weather the risk, and I will win regardless.

I made my choice. And I am not afraid.

"It is moving," Guard observes. I glance down at the mess of tendrils below us. He's right—the closer we get, the more they begin to move, actively shifting and crossing over themselves as if agitated by our presence. Ahkelios makes a concerned, clicking noise in his throat, eyes flashing.

"Aren't you the plant expert?" I say, my voice deliberately light. "How do we fight it?"

Ahkelios turns to me, blinking. "Fire?" he says, as if the answer is obvious.

I mean, to be fair, it is. I grin at him, teasing. "You sure you don't want to study it first?"

He shudders, and I see a flicker of interest in his eyes, leaking through our bond. He's kept it held tight for the most part, but some things still leak through. "Kind of," he admits, fidgeting.

"It's moving," I prompt. "And clearly Firmament is part of its life cycle in some way. Maybe even the color of Firmament."

Ahkelios makes a humming noise, then hops forward, jumping from my shoulder to Guard's. I can feel him reaching for my skills as he examines the flower—a touch of Firmament Control, a little Hueshift, and a flare of Firmament Sight.

"It's absorbing Firmament from something," he mutters. I'm quietly glad when I hear the way interest sparks to life in his voice. "And it's absorbing color from something. I think it's adapted to exist in the Empty City?"

"Because of Color Drain?"

"Yeah." Ahkelios sounds eager, now, and Guard has to stop him from jumping ahead by himself. We make our way down the stairwell a little more quickly, mostly to contain the excited mantis. "I think it's incorporated the Firmament into itself, somehow."

We're almost there. The tendrils around the glass orb at the center of the flower are all waving frantically in defense—not that Ahkelios seems to care. He hops closer, dodges one tendril, then kicks another out of the way, a spark of Firmament causing it to snap back and crash into the nearby wall.

I raise an eyebrow at the sight. Apparently, my growth in power means that Ahkelios is stronger as well. Go figure. This is still a rank S dungeon, though. I'm under no illusions as to whether the rest of the dungeon is going to be easy.

Honestly, I'm under no illusions as to whether this fight is going to be easy. But I'm happy to let Ahkelios investigate—he's the expert.

"Firmament isn't enough to feed it nutritionally, though," Ahkelios says contemplatively. He leaps along a vine and follows one of those electric-blue signals, deftly balancing even when it bucks and writhes beneath him in reaction. "It's learned to use Color Drain Firmament. Like it's a skill. And since it can't get nutrition, that means—"

He's interrupted by a rumble. The walls shake around us—I glance up, wincing as the fragile concrete breaks away and comes down in chunks. It doesn't look like the entire building is coming down just yet, but it's a near thing.

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"That means the color is a lure," Ahkelios finishes. "I bet it's a carnivorous plant."

That makes a lot of sense. The building shakes again, and I glance at Ahkelios, who meets my gaze. "Which means it brought something here," I say.

He grins at me. "Yep. Probably to eat, but I wouldn't discount it having some kind of symbiotic relationship with another species in the dungeon. It might have a protector species."

I raise an eyebrow. "This is a dungeon thing, isn't it?"

"Isn't it exciting?" Ahkelios's eyes gleam. I laugh. I was worried he'd spend the entire time lost to whatever's affected him, but he's still in there. Affected by doubt, but definitely in there.

Guard, meanwhile, shakes his head. "Trialgoers," he mutters. I sense, despite his words, that there is a tiny undercurrent of affection in it. It's different from what he's used to. We're different from what he's used to.

A third rumble. A section of the wallshatters, and something breaks through, its silhouette framed by dust and shattered stone. I'm distracted, briefly, by an Interface window that shows up.

[Ritual Stage 1: Collect the Seed]

Prerequisites:

Defeat the Seedmother: 0/1

Keep the Seed safe: 1/1

The Seed is that which grows into a memory. Keep it safe and help it grow, and all the rewards of the Empty City shall be yours.

The notification is fascinating, but it's not what's immediately concerning to me at the moment. That honor goes to the massive beetle that's stuck its head through the wall, which, while far from the most horrifying thing I've seen, is definitely among the biggest things I've seen that I've had to fight.

Short of the asteroid that was about to strike Isthanok, but that doesn't count.

It looms above us, and I can feel the sheer amount of Firmament pouring through it. Like the flower, it seems to have adapted to the Color Drain here in some way—its carapace is a vibrant, prismatic hue that almost reminds me of He-Who-Guards's power core. Flickers of electric-blue and other colors race through its shell in a network that reminds me of a cross between a circuitboard and a spiderweb.

This thing is packed with power.

Its eyes focus on Guard. It roars. The sound rattles the building we're in, causing more of the ceiling to collapse; behind us, the stairwell begins to crumble, blocking off one of our escape routes—not that I was planning to go back up.

"Guard," I say. "We need more space. We can't fight it in here."

"Agreed." His voice is tense. He crouches slightly, and I sense the change in his Firmament as he funnels his power to his legs. A moment later, his thrusters activate, and he bursts forward in a flicker of motion.

I follow suit with an Accelerate and a Firestep, leaving a trail of flames behind me. I can feel the Knight stirring, eager to join in the fight—eager to protect—but I ask it to hold back for now. I need to see how well I can fight without it.

I'm slower than I normally am. Guard reaches the Seedmother first, a crack resounding as he slams shoulder-first into its face and with enough physical force to make it take a step back; I'm there a second later, Amplification Gauntlet around my fist. The full force of my Firmament behind my blow is enough to make it take another step back, to create a shockwave that rattles the building even more—

Shit. Protect the Seed.

I'm well aware of what Ahkelios said. I can't fail this stage by dying, but I can fail it by not completing the prerequisites, which means I can't grab the Seed before defeating the Seedmother and I can't let the Seed get destroyed. The problem with that, of course, is that the Seed looks like it's made out of glass, and it's very, very clear that this building is about to collapse on top of it.

"Ahkelios!" I call. I open the link on my end, letting him surveil my thoughts—he catches on quickly and darts from my shoulder toward the Seed.

"I got it!" he calls back. A thin film of Firmament extends from him as he grabs on to the orb; it's nearly as big as he is, but he manages to stabilize it with his Firmament, and he begins flying determinedly toward the hole the beetle created in the wall.

Right as it begins to glow. The moving, multicolored pattern on its shell begins to accelerate, shifting, and there's a sudden snap of recognition as I understand what it's doing.

That's a skill construct. It's using a skill.

"Ahkelios!" The panic in my voice must reach him, because he changes directions almost instantaneously, pulling on Accelerate to do so. At almost the exact same moment, something manifests in front of the Seedmother, three inches in front of its horns, five away from Guard—

That's a black hole.

I barely have time to react. Guard tries to dodge, and I can feel the way he draws on his Firmament, reinforcing his armor as much as he can, but that's a black hole. It might be small, but it's infinite, inescapable density, and it punches through his metal like it's little more than paper.

It swerves. It moves almost as quickly as Ahkelios does, and I'm forced to Warpstep away, nearly staggering at the amount of Firmament that simple move costs me. Spatial distortions still amplify the cost of that skill, and a black hole is about as much spatial distortion as you can get. Trying to warp through the thing is going to drain everything I have, which means I'm left to a game of keep-away.

Ahkelios has to protect the Seed. Guard is hurt—the hole blasted through his shoulder leaves one of his arms dangling uselessly from his shoulder, and I don't know if it hit anything more vital, because his Firmament is flickering dangerously. For our first battle, this couldn't have gone worse.

I mentally flick through my options. Distorted Crux for more speed will buy me some time. I still have the Knight to call upon. Some of my newer skills I haven't tested yet, but Fate-Shattering Blow might be able to do some damage to it—

The patterns on the Seedmother's back move again. I feel Firmament collecting into a mass as it charges, forming a different construct, a different skill.

It feels familiar. Like the golden spear Anhar used against me. Except this one is more, layered upon itself again and again, and the spear it creates is not one but dozens, filling the sky with a frozen, golden rainstorm. A third of them are directed at me. Another third are aimed at Guard.

The last third...

It's subtle, but they're not aimed at Ahkelios at all.

They're aimed at the seed.