You only have one chance, Zuken.

Mana and spells went hand in hand. The more complex the spell, the more mana it would consume. That much had always been true when it came to raw elemental transfiguration. Plus, performing something so intricate required incredible concentration, reason, and willpower. Adding everything together made it an awful lot of power coursing through the spiritist’s body during the casting of a powerful spell.

Enough to cause severe mana poisoning, or worse, permanent brain damage.

It was why spiritists often worked in pairs for intensive spells. Given his way, Zuken would have necessitated an entire group of spiritists for this, with all of them having kami of the same type.

However, that was a convenience he didn’t have at the moment.

Don’t screw this up. Focus. What is it you need most?

The answer was clear.

Stability.

Zuken glanced at Olfric. The Bergott heir wasn’t the most… stable person he’d encountered, and his kami nature was the exact opposite of it in fact. Still, he was his best chance.

Between him and Elena anyway. I can’t risk Tanya, not before the final blow. I need to—

“What’s the grand plan?” Olfric hollered, slicing through two silver tendrils with a water-whip.

Zuken frowned. As an Earth-shaper, stability was an integral virtue, one he respected above all. Stability, balance, foundations, strength— they were all attributes of the earth. And one did not get to become an Earth-shaper by disrespecting the basic tenets of the Earth element. Olfric, on the other hand, was a Water-shaper, and it clearly bled through to his fighting style. The odd one out was Tanya, whose mannerisms neither fell in line with Wind-Shapers or the attributes of Air. If anything, she was frigid, hungry, overwhelming, and preferred minimal movement for maximum impact.

It wasn’t wind that defined her, but Frost. Her incredibly weird, absurdly powerful Frost.

“The stuff around us is metallic,” Zuken replied. “I’m not sure how the metal stays fluid though. Something to experiment after I take some of it back home”—Elena cleared her throat—“but I think I can tweak its solidity and… maybe restrain it?”

“What the hell is wrong with you, Banksi?” Olfric snarked back. “Are you really that anxious to die? That thing is a freaking genius loci. It’s powered by the entire anomaly.”

“It won’t be for long,” he quickly replied. “Just enough for Tanya to frost it.”

“Can you?” Olfric asked her, looking dubious about the whole affair.

Tanya returned a conflicted look, but then nodded in acquiescence.

“There’s just one issue. Even though it’s a metal, it has a lot of ‘fluidity’ in its nature. I need your assistance as a Water-shaper to control that aspect. Then, between the two of us, we can—”

“We can control it,” Olfric nodded.

Zuken grinned. “Right then. Let’s get started!”

It was here. Somewhere here. It had to be. There was no other alternative. It was here. He’d find it. He’d get it. He’d grab it. All he had to do was dig…

Deeper.

Wider.

Farther.

Lukas wobbled forward like a drunkard, barely able to move his feet in a straight line. All around him were metal tendrils, flailing and flapping wildly in agony as if they were being electrocuted. The last attack had rendered the khorkhoi catatonic— slime, as it turned out, has issues with loud noises. He’d remember this encounter for the future, when he was away from this barren wasteland and taking refuge in a civilized, alien world.

“Survival first, mortal,” Inanna reminded.

“Right,” he murmured, before nearly tripping on his own feet.

Something as basic as walking was difficult. During his last moments as a khorkhoi, Lukas allowed his body maximal homogeneity to allow passage of lifeforce. It allowed him to amplify his attack by an order of magnitude, and considering the result, it was well worth it. The tradeoff was that it would take him some time to fully regain his sense of balance.

But that was fine. He was still scanning. Still searching. Still analyzing.

Wider.

He expanded his senses to the maximum radius. No longer was he searching as a person, using the Screen to find prey. No, that was a long time ago. Now he was an anomaly. A shard of Lostbelt Earth, growing to become what it once was.

He who had seen it all, done it all, was now doing it again. A cruel trick played on Lostbelt Earth by Fate and Destiny.

Every anomaly had its conduits. When they evolved into singularities and realms, the conduits grew with them. Became more. From tiny immaterial connections to physical veins, they were always present, spanning across the surface of the realm itself.

They were lines that connected the realm’s inner universe. Or, as Lukas the human knew them…

Ley lines.

The Crypt was a small thing. Powerful, yes. Vast, yes. But considering its growth? Barely an irascible teenager. Still, it was better than an infantile omphalos. At least this one had some History to it, even though the Crypt was a bit too ambitious for its own good.

This would teach it a lesson. Too bad it would not be there for much longer to learn it.

And all he had to do to achieve that end was to look—

Deeper.

Wider.

Farther. Farther. Far— FOUND IT!

The grin that stretched across his face carried with it both victory and apprehension. He’d definitely found a conduit, but it was on the other side of the barrier. And with that came another humbling realization.

He’d thought the wall was merely the Crypt wanting him to keep him away from Tanya the Frost-wielder, fearing a repeat of the episode with the previous genius loci. But now, his Scan and Analyze told him the truth. What it actually wanted was—

Lukas palmed his face. “I am such an idiot.”

“You are,” the goddess amicably agreed. “As the mortals say, you are years late to the party. But I suppose you ended up there. Eventually.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Perhaps. However, then you would have learned nothing on your own merit.”

Lukas rolled his eyes. Knowing the goddess, it was because—

“Besides, it was more amusing seeing you come to wrong conclusions and act upon them.”

And there it was.

“I shouldn’t have been thinking like a human,” he muttered, clenching his fists. “I keep forgetting that I’m an anomaly now. I should’ve approached this like an anomaly in the first place.”

“Perhaps if you keep repeating it over and over,” she whispered in his ear, “something may work out in your favor.”

“You say the kindest things.”

“I am a Queen. I am allowed to indulge my vassals with my benevolence.”

Lukas laughed. The banter felt good. “The barrier wasn’t keeping me from Tanya. It was keeping me from the conduit. It's a ley line. I can barely believe it. Ley lines are real!”

Then, he remembered he was talking to a goddess residing in his mind, while trying to survive a sentient underground cavern filled with monsters in an alien world, using powers that would have classified him as a real-world superhero.

Lukas coughed. “Alright, back to work.”

His balance was still a bit wonky, but good thing that he didn’t need it for what he was about to do. Dropping to his knees, Lukas pressed both hands against the wall. His kneecaps dug into the floor as power surged through him. Pulling his left arm backwards, he thrust his palm against the wall.

THUMP!

Then the right.

THUMP!

Left again.

THUMP!

Right.

THUMP!

The motions quickly grew periodic, and with each successive thrust, Lukas poured just an ounce more power. And with every palm strike, the barrier began to wobble a little bit more.

Left.

And as the power grew—

Right.

—so too did the vibrations.

Left.

Shatterfist came into the equation.

Right.

THUMP!

Left—

With a deafening crash, the entire structure shattered into tiny fragments and crumbled into rubble, falling over itself until nothing but a cloud of dust and fallen rock remained. Lukas stepped into the other side and peered at the scene. Tabby, now a four-armed monster with jaws for a head, jaws for a hand— jaws for, well, everything —was smashing and biting into the monstrous tendrils. Tanya was looking overwhelmed with it all while Zuken and Burger were… holding hands.

Lukas blinked.

“And still,” he sighed, feeling oddly depressed, “not the most surreal thing I’ve seen so far.”

There’s something off about him.

Tanya glanced at her newest teammate with a mix of growing surprise, relief, and apprehension. There was no doubt in her mind that Lukas had shared meaningful conversations with the genius loci, and probably knew way more about their situation than the rest of her group. After the genius loci stranded him on the other side of the chamber by erecting a barrier, Tanya felt strangely covetous and wanted to bring him back. But now that he was back, she couldn’t help but wonder why she’d felt that way. It was like—

“Not that I have anything against guys holding hands,” she heard him say in an oddly embarrassed tone, “but we do have a monster to kill. So, uh, save it for later?”

And just like that, the spell was broken.

In more ways than one.

“Whaah!” Olfric sputtered, snatching his hand away. Tanya flinched as the Earth-shaper cried out in physical agony, his concentration now broken in the worst way possible. Before she could do anything, he was bodily thrown back by the backlash.

“What the hell?” Lukas exclaimed, both at Zuken’s injury and at the metallic tendrils that were now trying to pierce him with acute prejudice. The Outsider quickly dodged them all while hollering back towards her.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“It’s a spell gone wrong,” she began to explain—

“And it’s all your fault!” Olfric bellowed, his face growing redder by the minute as he hastily activated his kami’s powers and returned to offensive measures. “We were in the middle of casting a powerful spell, and now look you you did, you half—”

“Guys!” she interrupted. “Focus!”

“What were you— oh for fuck’s sake!” Lukas cursed, spinning in mid-air while kicking the silver tendrils closest to him. “What were you trying to do?”

“Restrain it,” Tanya continued her explanation. “Between Zuken and Olfric, they can restrain this thing by reducing its fluidity and enhancing its solidity.”

“They can do that?”

“As long as something is solid, an Earth-shaper has power over it. To some extent.”

It was an oversimplification of their abilities, but not strictly untrue. Given how the Outsider paused at her words, he was likely considering its implications. She had seen him pull off impressive feats with his strange powers, but material manipulation hadn’t been one of them.

Though, knowing him, he might have more tricks up his sleeve. Not that that would be a bad thing.

“Say, these kami of yours are pretty damn interesting. Do you think I could get a few?”

“Sure, whatever,” she bit out. “First, get us out of here!”

“Working on it,” Lukas replied while punching another tendril. Tanya idly wondered what happened to his blades. Had he lost all of them in his fight earlier?

“Really now!” she heard him speak. “No need to get violent, woman!”

She squinted her eyes. Violent? Woman? Was he referring to their previous interactions? She wasn’t being overly caustic at all. Or was he speaking to someone else? But who? And how? What was she missing?

Zuken, with Olfric’s help, finally got back onto his feet, though the Earth-shaper was twitching from time to time. The backlash from the mid-ritual breakdown was showing its aftereffects.

“Is he going to be alright?” Lukas asked.

“Not unless we end this for good,” Olfric answered. “And quickly.”

The Outsider considered that for a moment. “I… have an idea. It might even work, too.”

“Great, another one,” Olfric groaned.

“What do you need?” Tanya sighed.

Lukas grinned. “Honestly? Nothing. Give me a minute while I have a few words with this anomaly’s proprietor.”