I may be an astral projection, but I am made of hard light—physical form to something without actual substance. And, today, I am about to meet my sibling Rare to make one last-ditch effort to save all of Mystix.

The scouts, each wearing their distinctive hoods, pick me up and take me to the camp. I see a wyvern flying in the distance, landing in the camp gracefully right next to the main tent. Obviously, the rider of such a beast is none other than Rare themself.

It’s clear this place used to be a battlefield, and recently, too. The soil is scorched and pieces of armor lay on the ground in certain areas. If this wasteland was a battlefield, and now the Anti-Mages have set up camp here, that means they won the battle, and the New Slayers retreated.

Perhaps Mestopholees’s confidence back in the throne room was not precisely earned.

I’m brought into the main tent, with people gawking and gasping along as they see me. When I go inside, though, I am greeted with that exact same cold, wrinkled face I am so used to by now.

“Rare, look at you,” I say. “You’re as marvelous as ever.”

“And you look entirely alive,” they say. “What’s the reason?”

“Astral projection,” I say. “I am not here, as much as it seems so.”

“I see. And are you here to kill me?”

“By The Goddess’s name, I would never dream of it!” I exclaim. “I am here to warn you and ask you the greatest of favors.”

“I know of Malia’s treachery, if that’s what you mean,” they say. “She helped Miss M escape to South Spire, and for that she has been severely demoted. But I did not harm her or punish her otherwise. She is a dear friend and ally, and I would never do that to her. You do not need to bargain for her life.”

“I was unaware of her status being in such a precarious place, but... that’s good, at least?” I stop to consider this for a second, but realize there are more important matters. “No. My favor is about saving the world.”

“Yes?”

“End the war,” I say. “Make peace with Mestopholees and the New Slayers. Come to South Spire with me and let us talk things out until we can settle this.”

“And why should I do that?” they ask.

“Because a much greater war is coming. Back on Earth, a man named Joe Biden, leader of one of the more powerful nations, is determined to control the multiverse. All the other worlds, including Mystix, apparently to ‘liberate’ them for their resources.”

“I... see.” Rare puts their fingers to their chin.

“Biden and his soldiers already have the Destiny Deck System. Next, they plan to access The Goddess’s Domain and finally cross into other worlds of their own volition. Unprecedented in our multiverse’s history, I’m sure.”

“You would be surprised,” they say, “but I understand. This is an interesting development, and I am truly glad you’ve told me.”

“Then you’ll assist me?”

“I’ll do my very best.” Rare smiles like I’ve never seen them smile before, even laughs a little. I wonder if that means I’ve gotten through to them. With any luck, my message will have worked.

“Please, come to South Spire with me,” I say. “At your earliest availability, I wish for you and you alone to enter the throne room and begin peace talks with the Demon Queen Mestopholees. Is that truly okay with you?”

“How will I reach the throne room to begin such talks?” they ask. “One does not simply walk to South Spire.”

“Oh, my dear Rare, you are mistaken. I can say that, in my year spent confined to this throne room and its surroundings, I have come to an intimate knowledge of its layout, and I will let you in on a secret: There is a hidden tunnel, just enough for a single person to pass through at a time, designed to escort out the Amaranth himself... Me. I would never have use for such a cowardly escape route, and would go down fighting in almost any situation, but if I can have your word that you will use it to settle for peace, so that we can prepare now for the imminent arrival of the United States.”

Rare nods their head profusely. “I promise I will bring peace to Mystix at any cost,” they say. “The system will be destroyed.”

“I did not say anything about the system.”

“You did not, but it had to be stated nonetheless,” they say.

“Well, I appreciate your promise nonetheless. Peace is the ultimate goal, and we must reach it posthaste. My time in this dream is growing short, but I can assure you that I will be back here in about one day, ready to join hands with the two of you.” I grab their hand and hold it tight, so as to act symbolically. “My astral projection skills may come in handy some day, you know. Now that I can finally feel, touch, sense things... It’s marvelous, you know, being alive, even if it is mere illusion.”

“I wonder what will happen once your full soul returns to Mystix,” Rare says.

“I wonder that too. We shall see once that scenario arises, if it ever does.”

“There is good reason to be optimistic about that.”

And with that, my work here on Mystix this day is complete. I have convinced Rare to make a good shot at forging peace between the New Slayers and Anti-Mages, and if my hunch serves correct, then we might just be able to hold back Joe Biden after all.

Let us pray to The Goddess that she will bring us out of this century-long war. I am very confident about it.