“They say I need a Regret practitioner,” I state, sighing.

Euryphel is currently signing a series of documents that need the highest level of approval from his glosscomp, his eyes narrowed in focus. Despite his careful attention to the documents, he’s able to perfectly maintain a conversation.

He looks over his shoulder and smiles. “We can be useful.”

I rub my arm. “Obviously, but they’re trying to pair me with someone I’m unfamiliar with. There aren’t many Regret practitioners in Eternity.” Regret practitioners are rare enough back home. On our entire world there are probably several million Regret practitioners in total. Of those, I’d guess there’s less than a million who have an additional affinity. Most of those people won’t be very powerful. It would surprise me if our world had more than a thousand dual-affinity Regret practitioners with affinities above 80%. “All the Regret ascendants I know of have two affinities.”

Euryphel clucks his tongue. “Because of what you mentioned before–needing to survive the impact of a descendant?”

“Yeah.” Affinities without external manifestations of power are especially screwed by a descendant’s fall if they don’t have another affinity to shore up their physical weaknesses.

“What about kids?” Euryphel asks. “Don’t ascendants have children?”

I shrug. “I haven’t seen any so far or heard anyone talk about it.”

Euryphel looks back at his glosscomp screen, then freezes and turns back around. “Is there any way for you to use the artifact without being incapacitated?”

“You mean splitting my focus?” I ask.

“You have a Beginning affinity–I’d think it would help make that sort of thing possible.”

I frown. “Not sure that’s how it works.” Cayeun’s transmission artifact sends my consciousness away. I can’t sense my original body in any way when I’m in this state. If I wasn’t immortal, this state of vulnerability would be a serious downside–I’d need to hide myself somewhere secure or have people guard my unconscious form.

“I wish I could bring you to me, rather than going to you,” I say, trailing off. I feel the influence of Beginning affinity at that moment, bringing a possibility to the forefront of my mind that I had never considered.

Euryphel looks at me curiously. “What?

I hold up a finger. “One moment.”

The connection cuts off; I return to my body and sit up with a sharp gasp, my muscles aching with weakness. I level my gaze on the microphone-shaped transmission artifact.

You’ve returned, Maria says. I shed my metamorphosis before my visit with Eury. I only stayed conscious because Maria hung about me in her transformed state.

I grasp for the dagger. I’m laying on the bed in my personal quarters, a lavish room in Voidkeep’s citadel. My fingers tremble as I hold it up. Cobalt energy swirls around my fingers and enters the knife’s ornate hilt, energizing the blade.

I’ve spent the vast majority of my time the past few years–years, at least, from my perspective–in dilated time. Since Suncloud warned me to only use the transmission artifact in non-dilated spaces, I’ve only used it sparingly. I certainly haven’t experimented with it.

I have an idea, I say, grimacing. I hope the dagger doesn’t somehow damage the artifact, but its effects have always been reversible so far. I place the dagger’s tip on the top of the transmission artifact and focus my intent.

The artifact turns from a silvery gray to a deep blue that matches the hue of my ascendant energy. Otherwise, it doesn’t visibly change form, its surface still pleasantly grippy, like it’s made of sandstone.

Like when I normally activate the artifact, I focus on Euryphel, then press the button at its base.

“Y’jeni,” a voice calls out. I whip around and stare in shock.

“Eury?” I cry. My friend stands before me, though I can tell he’s incorporeal–he has no vital signature and I can’t sense his mind with my Remorse affinity.

His eyes are wide as he looks around the room. His gaze lands on Crystal, who’s sleeping on a massive cushion in the room’s corner.

“She doesn’t look at all like what you drew,” he says, his voice thin.

During my time with Ash, I practiced using my Beginning affinity to sketch the appearances of everyone I’d met in Eternity. I can’t draw as a transmission ghost, but I found that if I drew on my skin before using the artifact, the ink would remain. I inked a few portraits in pen to give Euryphel a taste of my bizarre company.

I scoff, but can’t muster a response. I’m shocked that he’s here, in Eternity, even if it’s as a projection.

You’re quiet, I think, mentally poking Maria.

I don’t want to ruin the moment, she responds.

You won’t.

Then stab yourself and transform. You need me as you are now.

She’s right, of course–I can’t have both my normal appearance and Maria. At least not yet.

“Hold on, Eury–Maria’s going to transform.”

He nods and walks forward toward the bed, his gaze laser focused on the bracers, crown, and cloak about my person. “How a dagger can turn Maria into three pieces of armor, I don’t think I’ll ever understand.”

I chuckle. “You know what that means though, right?”

“You need to use the dagger as well,” he replies. “Go ahead.”

I’ve told him all about my woes, but he’s never seen my transformed state. I can’t pinpoint why I don’t want to show him, but the thought makes me squirm with discomfort. Why don’t I want him to see me like this? I think I originally justified it as a precaution in the event that I appeared in a location where Euryphel wasn’t alone. A mysterious figure with unnatural, night-black skin and talons would invite attention. Sure, if people recognized my face, that would potentially be even more noteworthy. This has never been a problem, though–whenever I’ve appeared in a public setting, I kill the connection almost immediately and visit Euryphel later.

Maria doesn’t comment on my reticence. Through the years we’ve spent together, we’ve learned when to speak and when to be silent. There are some topics and problems that we need to work through on our own, even when our minds are closely connected.

Just as I raise the dagger to my chest, Crystal stirs from her slumber.

“Euryphel!” she exclaims, leaping to her feet. She barrels forward and passes right through him. Euryphel flinches, but stands his ground.

“Can you hear her?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No, did she say something?”

“This is annoying,” Crystal says. “I am silenced. Muted. He is worse than even Karanos when in an antisocial mood. I cannot access his mind at all.”

I make a dismissive gesture. “She says ‘hi.’”

Euryphel smiles. “Hello, Crystal.”

The fish bends down on her forelegs like a stretching feline. Euryphel hesitantly reaches a hand to stroke her forehead scales, though his fingers are unable to touch them. He laughs in self-deprecation. “It’s easy to forget I’m not actually here. The transmission artifact continues to impress.”

Enough stalling, Maria says.

I swallow and pierce my chest. The transformative energy swells and overtakes my body in a blink. When Euryphel turns back around from Crystal, he flinches again.

“So this is the metamorphosis you spoke of,” he says, walking toward me, taking in my changed appearance. “It’s rather... fierce.”

“It is, isn’t it?” I siphon the metamorphosing energy from Maria, drawing it into myself. She appears as a lich at my side. She withdraws Cayeun Suncloud’s azure circlet and activates it, assuming a more lifelike appearance.

“Euryphel, it has been too long,” she says, bowing her head.

Euryphel blinks. “Maria.” He shakes his head. “Longer for you than me, I think.”

She smirks. “Perhaps, though I suppose that depends on how much you’ve been using your affinity. I hear you’ve been treating Zilverna well, or at least as best you can without seeming suspicious.”

“Who told you?”

Her lips curls. “Chowicz.”

He nods. “She’s a strong addition to the Darkseers. Thank you for encouraging her to join us.”

“I didn’t encourage her–she came on her own once I explained the circumstances,” Maria says. “To be fair, if she didn’t join your cause after learning of the Infinity Loop’s corrupting power, I might have exchanged choice words with her.”

“You look good,” Euryphel says, shooting me a side-long glance. “Better than Ian’s drawing.”

I clear my throat. “So, if bringing projections of people to my side is possible using the artifact... maybe I can just rely on Regret practitioners from home.”

“I can’t call upon my affinity while like this,” Euryphel says. “I would have to enter a loop beforehand. It would mean that every few seconds, you’d need to activate the artifact while a Regret practitioner continuously enters scenarios. Wouldn’t that attract suspicion? Someone’s projection would appear near you, disappear for a moment, and reappear, cycling every half-minute or so.”

“Can we at least try it?” I ask.

“Sure.”

I deactivate the transmission beacon and Euryphel vanishes. I wait a second, then click its button. Euryphel reappears in the same spot he was standing in before.

“Oh, this is interesting,” he says, staring at his hands. “I can still recurse.” He looks up. “I can set my checkpoints, experience however many seconds into the future, and snap back. It’s possible since I was already in a top-level scenario when the artifact summoned me.”

“So that means I don’t need to de- and reactivate the artifact after you finish a single scenario,” I conclude. “I can keep it up for the duration of a single scenario–around one minute–and then refresh your projection, and you’ll still be able to experience as many sub-scenarios as you’d like.”

“Try it again,” Maria prompts.

We practice using the transmission artifact for the next half hour, experimenting with dismissing and bringing back Euryphel as quickly as possible, to make it seem as though he never leaves my side. After only a bit of practice, his momentary disappearances seem almost like holographic flickers.

We laugh at our success. I collapse onto Crystal’s supine belly, while Euryphel sits on the edge of the bed.

Maria looks between the two of us. “This technique is only possible because Euryphel’s Regret affinity allows him to create branching sub-scenarios. If I’m not mistaken, it’s his ninety-percent-threshold insight, and unique to him alone.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And?”

She crosses her arms. “Eury, do you have the time to spare for this venture? You’re the sovereign of the Federation and are also orchestrating the operations of the Darkseers.”

“I can spare the time,” he says. “Any planning for the Darkseers is best done in scenarios anyway, so the intelligence can’t be stolen. Besides, how long do you expect Ian will need the services of a Regret practitioner?”

Maria frowns. “Whenever he’s interacting with others for at least a few days. I don’t think your government will take it well if you suddenly collapse in the middle of a meeting, your mind summoned to Ian’s side.”

“She has a good point,” Crystal says. “Using a Regret practitioner provided by the white faction’s connections is probably best.”

Eury and I share a pained look, but we both see the sense in the suggestion. “Fine,” I say. “Though it’s good to know this option is available to us.”

The former prince smiles. “Call on me if you need me. The Federation and Darkseers can take care of themselves for a day if necessary–killing Achemiss is critically important to ensuring our world’s longevity, and takes precedence.”