Arguing with fire was difficult.

It was why it became a favored weapon of choice in the early ages. The heat, the power, the light— fire boasted an unmatched intensity. It was also the natural representation of the very concept of a predator. It could burn you, scald you, scorch you to ashes. It provided light against the darkness and the things that went bump in it.

For the very same reason, most wannabe spiritists looking for a Kami sought out fire-types, hoping to fuel their attacks with the awesome power of flames. It was a good philosophy, in Zuken’s not-so-humble opinion, if not for the fact that they were being utterly stupid about it.

Like every other element, fire had more to it than simply heat and light— it was a representation of unbridled emotion. Most negative attributes on the emotional spectrum were represented by it. The more one invoked the element, the more accentuated those negative attributes became in their psyche.

It was all too easy for Fire-type spiritists to lose themselves and turn into raving psychopaths who left nothing but carnage in their wake.

And by the looks of it, one such nut was blindly rushing towards him.

But that was fine. He knew how to deal with annoying Fire-types all too well.

Zuken saw Olfric preparing an overly fancy water-based spell, while Elena decided to stand by and stare instead of ordering her pseudo-familiar monsters to engage. Then again, that was kind of expected. The changeling wasn’t exactly the warrior type.

Sighing, he lifted his hands.

“Gift of the Shifting Sands!”

The floor beneath the stranger instantly dissolved into fine sand and began seeping down, trapping him by both feet. Zuken watched, slightly amused, as the stranger was dragged into the floor until everything beneath his shoulders was no longer visible.

With nary a thought, the texture changed, and the floor became flat again. The stranger howled like a demented beast, twisting and struggling, but it was utterly useless.

One of the characteristics of Earth-mana was consumption. To take raw energy and slow it down, give it shape, and turn it into matter. Stable. Fixed. Unmoving. It wasn’t that a fire-type couldn’t burn his way out of the trap, but rather the amount of energy required would burn the creature alive.

Still, it was always better to be safe than sorry. Snapping his fingers, a thick, jagged piece of rock shot up from the ground and hit the stranger in the neck.

He dropped like a stone.

Zuken turned towards a slightly flustered Tanya.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

They were sitting in the ruined stone chamber, munching on grilled monster steak. Elena and, surprisingly enough, Olfric had voiced their desire for a sautéed meat dish. But since Tanya was the only one who could cook, she sternly informed them that this was no democracy, and that they would gratefully eat grilled steak.

Zuken merely rolled his eyes at the whole thing.

Tanya cleared her throat. “I hereby call this war council to order.”

“We’re going to declare war on somebody?” Elena gasped, her eyes wide.

“It’s a metaphor, Elena,” she replied, her tone exasperated. Quickly, she glanced towards Lukas’s unconscious form, wondering offhandedly whether the Outsider had taken too much damage, what with his charred arm and all the Everfrost. “We are very close to the finish line, and I— all of us, have taken considerable damage so far. If we want to succeed, we need to get some planning done first.”

“Figured all that out by yourself, did you?” Olfric snarked.

“Unlike some,” Tanya retorted, her tone saccharine, “I don’t have the option of lazing about on my ass. Or joining forces with Yokai, for that matter.”

“I was forced—”

“To survive by betraying your own people.”

“Like you did with the Blues?” he challenged.

“Oh fuck you—”

“ENOUGH!” Zuken commanded. “We’re supposed to be coming up with useful ideas.”

“Not funny ones!” Elena authoritatively added.

Zuken gave her a stink eye.

Elena bit into her steak.

“And what are we going to do about him?” Olfric asked, gesturing towards Lukas’s trapped, unconscious form.

“Him…” Tanya trailed, “we’ll need him alive.”

“For?” Zuken asked.

“For reasons I can’t state until it’s clear we are all on the same page. I have a contract with you, Zuken, and your airheaded girlfriend —” “Hey!” “—is a part of the deal. But him on the other hand…” she sent a nasty glare towards Olfric.

“Does being on the same page include explaining how you can shoot frost out of your hands?” Olfric slyly replied.

Tanya’s expression hardened. “If it must.”

“What?” he defensively asked. “I can’t be the only one suspicious of you. You’re a wind-type spiritist. How can you channel frost like that?”

Despite his hostility and general pig-headedness, Tanya could sense the underlying curiosity in his words.

Taking a bite out of her grilled steak, Tanya took a few moments to slowly chew on her food as she thought about her answer. Elena, Olfric, and Zuken all leaned in closer, eager to hear what she had to say.

“I have my ways.”

“That’s not an answer!” Olfric snapped.

“Yes it is.”

“Children,” Zuken sighed, playing peacemaker again, “can we please have a civilized conversation?”

“There’s no conversation to be had,” Tanya scoffed. “I’m not revealing the nature of my powers in front of a buffoon who has repeatedly made things harder for me back at the Guild.”

“It only makes me wonder whether it’s less of a trick and more of an illegitimate acquisition,” Olfric retorted.

“Bergott, you’re the last person who has the right to say that,” Zuken said. “Need I remind you that you were working against Asukans not too long ago to escape with your life?”

“Fat lot of good it did me,” Olfric harrumphed. “I still have the blood curse.” He pulled down his collar to show everyone his bruised, oddly-colored neck. Tanya could see the infection spreading throughout his veins. “This is gonna kill me unless I accomplish what that Yokai lady wants.”

“Killing this anomaly,” Tanya concluded.

Olfric slowly nodded.

“Even so,” Zuken interjected, “you went against your own people to save your life, and something tells me you didn’t try to save any of ours just because you have repressed feelings for Tanya—”

Tanya growled at his insinuation.

Olfric’s face imitated a tomato.

“—Which means what you did is a crime. That is,” he glanced around, briefly meeting Tanya’s gaze, “as long as we choose to give testimony against you.”

“Like you did for me, Olfric,” Tanya vindictively added. It made her inner child happy.

Elena took another bite of her steak.

“I may have fucked up.”

After his mind had shut down from the hit on his neck, Lukas had found himself on the proverbial floor of his mindscape.

Right at Inanna’s feet.

Despite his numerous attempts, it seemed returning to consciousness was not an option. His body was currently being worked on by the Omphalos, regenerating his charred flesh, rejuvenating his bones, undoing all the damage he’d acquired. It all made him even question whether it was quasi-immortal.

The mere mention had sent the goddess into peals of laughter. And then, when she stopped, Inanna looked at him with something akin to pity. Or quite possibly contempt. Or both.

“As if you could restrain yourself from acting upon your mortal instincts,” she shook her head. “Be comforted, mortal. I chose you knowing full well you would end up an element of destruction, not an instrument of precision and restraint.”

“But that’s not really what I’m abou—”

Lukas paused, slowly digesting everything that had happened. Was she really so wrong? At the merest hint of violence, he now let the monsters within him emerge and ravage everything around him.

“Lukas Aguilar,” Inanna replied, her voice uncharacteristically warm, “you have ascended from the measly weakling you once were. Now, as you begin to see the shape of my problems, you grow into your own power. It is nearly time for you to understand what you truly are, and only then can we accomplish great things together.”

The powerful statement made him shudder. Internally— he didn’t want her to see it, after all.

Not that she couldn’t tell. But it was the principle of things.

“It is the nature of an anomaly to grow into its power. What you have tasted is merely the… how do you say it? The icing of the cake? The tip of the iceberg?” She shrugged. “Regardless, it is my belief you now understand just how temperamental your powers can be.”

“What had—” Lukas gulped, gathering his words. “I don’t know what came over me. One second, I was fighting, and in the next—”

“It was the work of this Crypt.”

Inanna rose up from her throne. The setting suddenly changed from the familiar, cloudy landscape into an even more familiar cavernous setting— the anomaly. But he could tell it was still his mindscape and not reality. Walking ahead, the goddess ran her finger along a particularly sharp stalactite.

“You stole monster prototypes from its core. You carved a new pet out of a highly active reagent. You decimated its genius loci.” Her words were clearly meant to be congratulatory, but Lukas certainly didn’t feel that way. “You’ve attacked the very heart of this anomaly.”

“And?”

“And it has paid you in kind. The Omphalos of this Crypt has attacked the very heart of the anomaly in you.” She paused, a vicious grin overtaking her face. “It tried to steal away its Host. Its body. Its monster-in-training.”

“Me,” Lukas realized. “Can it— can it actually do that?”

“The mechanics are not dissimilar to what you have done with your pet.”

Admittedly, that was a shoddily done job. The cat was a good addendum to his solo adventure, but it was hardly a proper substitute for his old tabby. Perhaps with time—

The goddess ignored his inner tangents. “When that happened, the Omphalos inside of you reacted in a rather unpredictable fashion. It chose the khorkhoi as a substitute prototype, perhaps because it wanted to assert complete dominion over your form and had prior practice with the beast? It is impossible to tell why.”

“But I lost control,” Lukas grimly replied. “I attacked Tanya and then shifted into that flame thing, and now—” He exhaled. “I really need to get it under control. Who knows what I might end up doing next time?”

“You are partially correct, however. An anomaly’s regenerative capabilities approach physiological immortality. But make no mistake,” she ominously warned, “cutting off your head will surely end your life. Immortality is no substitute for intelligence, mortal. So long as you remember that lesson, you will survive.”

Lukas nodded, already thinking of ways to better survive in the future. He’d need to get better at his Psionics skills and upgrade the ‘Protection from Mental Encroachment’ skill too. At least, that was a good place to start.

But that was for later. There were bigger fish to fry at the moment.

Quite possibly, all of Tanya’s supposed friends, in fact. Or at least, he assumed they were on friendly terms, seeing as how they rushed in to stop their battle. Especially that brown-haired man— he was able to catch him in quicksand and instantly convert it back to stone, effectively trapping him inside. Breaking out would require applying concentrated force, and he had a good idea where to begin.

The only question was…

What now?

Tanya already said she had no issues with him destroying the Crypt for her. And while that might help charge the goddess’s power a bit, nothing was clear about how to proceed in this new world. As accommodating as the blonde had been, it was almost certainly the thrall at work. For her friends to be equally understanding would be a hell of a coincidence at best, and a sinister agenda at worst.

Lukas rubbed his jaw. Even in his mindscape, he was saddled with stubble. He really needed to get to civilization and get himself cleaned. And for that, he needed to establish a working relationship with these people— bremetans —and ensure he carved out a place for himself.

It was time to Analyze. To decide and act based on the information he could collect about Tanya’s friends.

His body may have been shut down, but the anomaly was still active. That meant the anomaly’s basic functions were active as well.

A small smirk appeared on his lips.

“Analyze.”