”Should’ve signed the message.” Emilia suddenly realized after a good while of marching down the tunnel. “Should’ve definitely signed the message.”

Outside of a single fallen knight, the pair had found very little in the tunnel after the destroyed town. The signs of battle continued consistently as chips of armor and weapons from the simulacra, but there were still no signs of what the opposition was like. Despite the countless arrows jutting from the stone and dozens of cracked weapons, none of them had apparently caused damage in whatever the simulacra had been fighting. Nothing resembling blood stained any of the weapons and the ground was free of anything besides debris from simulacra and the walls. What made things even stranger was that every arrow was fired from the direction they were coming from, as if the Knights had been chasings something that chose to run from them rather than fight directly, but if that was the case, why would something the knights weren’t able to harm in the first place run from them when the tide of the battle was obviously in their favor?

Eventually they came across the door to the next chamber. By then Emilia had learned to expect them to pop up from time to time and didn’t even comment on the matter. She simply waited as King operated the door and followed the knight inside.

The chamber was on the smaller side when it came to rooms in the fortress, but still large enough to fit a small house in it. Yet all it had originally contained was a pair of large stone chairs on the opposite sides of a small table. Just like in the corridor, the floor of the chamber was littered with chunks of stone and yet another defeated knight kneeling by a rotting corpse of a custodian. Though she still couldn’t date their demise at any accuracy, Emilia could tell that every corpse so far was in roughly the same condition and likely died around the same time – that is, aside from the one in the desert, which had been in much rougher conditions than the others. In the closed off room, the rotting stench had had the chance to stew and build up, but much to her annoyance, the priestess now found the smell of aged viscera rather sweet and pleasant, no doubt thanks to her unwanted spiritual passenger.

While King did his rituals, Emilia wasted no time taking a seat in one of the chairs. Her assumption was that both of the chairs needed to be filled and the pair of strange handles on the surface of the table grasped by the participants. As she waited, the blood flowing from under her armor stained the stone seat.

“The prey weaves pointless lies in panic, it knows we have revealed its childish ruse. Frightened, cornered, abandoned, it builds its defenses close by. Layer upon layer of realities, it creates a cocoon of things that aren’t, weren’t and won’t be. Its corruption still spreads, but the fight has left it and any purchase it gains is swiftly taken away by the spirits bottled by the Aureun in ancient times. It falters, makes mistakes in arts where mistakes can not be afforded.” Pyria said, filling the ambience as the priestess waited. “It fears out approach!”

Exhausted, Emilia sighed deeply before saying anything. “So we’re almost done here then? About time.”

The fiend laughed. “I highly doubt so. This prey is an aimless creature of little depth. Though powerful in some mortal scales, had it laid this assault on its own, the residents of these halls would have torn it apart upon arrival. No, our prey is a familiar, companion, servant or tool. Its master has left it behind and traveled deeper. Was it abandoned to test us, or did the knights of Erratic Judgement trap it, this I can not tell.”

“Hmm… The person calling themself Eminence in the tainted recording we played back in the elevator said it came here with a companion. Called it ‘Trauma’, I think.” The priestess reminisced of the things that had happened mere couple of days ago, but now felt much more distant.

“Trauma? Trauma… Trauma…” Repeated Pyria, as if she was tasting the name to figure out if she liked it or not. “Such an unfortunate name, for poor little Trauma will soon meet the one who defined the meaning of the word itself.”

King stashed the crystalline horn he took from the custodian’s body into his pack and tossed what he was carrying by the table between the stone chairs. Without wasting time, he sat down on the remaining free seat, which was more or less perfectly sized for him, and pointed at the handle on the surface of the table in front of the priestess.

“We’re just doing whatever this is? No explanation or anything?” Emilia asked but was only met with a demanding stare as King had already grabbed the handle on his side. “Oh… Alright, then. Let me just activate this ancient mechanism that might or might not shred my soul into pieces for what seems like no particular reason other than fun.”

Trying the remove her gauntlet, the priestess realized that it wasn’t moving at all, as if it had been grafted onto her skin. Cursing the fiend in her mind, she placed her hand on the handle anyway, hoping it would work regardless. While it did take a moment for it to initiate whatever the machine was supposed to do, as soon as the blood flowing from her hand stained the handle, the lights on the table flashed on accompanied by various mechanical noises.

In seconds, the world around Emilia shattered into pieces that crumbled down into a void of white light only to reform into a new scenery soon after. She tried ripping her hand off the mechanism but couldn’t move an inch. Assuming this to be a part of whatever test she had been subjected to; the priestess turned her attention to the scenery.

Before her opened a wide field of dry grass that continued all the way to the horizon and gave the impression that wherever this place was, it was at a high altitude. The overcast sky lit the area softly as the strong breeze made waves in the grass. Suddenly an ear shattering screech from above startled the priestess, but before she had the time to even look up, a gigantic creature crashed into the ground. With six pure white feathery wings, a long snake-like body, two pairs of legs that seemed like that of an eagle’s and a mouthless, dragon-like head with a dozen pitch black eyes and sharpened antlers that were as thick and long as trees, the creature was nothing like anything Emilia had ever seen. It dwarfed dragons with its size and could have probably wrapped its long body around a small village if it had wanted to. However, the strangest thing about the creature were its countless injuries that bled greenish, tar-like mud on the grass around it as it writhed in agony and shook the ground with every movement. On top of the dying beast was a tall figure, clad in stone armor and wielding what could only be described as a great sword at the end of a pike. Seemingly undisturbed by the beast’s tumble, the figure calmly walked over its chest and with a leap, plunged their weapon into the behemoth’s neck, killing it instantly.

Though it had taken her a second, she recognized the armor as the one that had been neatly arranged on the table in King’s room and understood what she was seeing: the days before King became what he was today.

Leaving behind his weapon, King of the past slid down along the beast’s side and was immediately greeted by a small horde of goblins that rushed out from behind Emilia’s seat. Though noticeably larger than Anastacia’s tribe and more grey than green, the critters were still unquestionably goblins. Their croaks were ever so slightly less unintelligible and their steps less degenerate, but still unmistakably goblinoid. While not paying much attention to the swarm around his legs, King took care to not kick any of them as he walked towards Emilia.

“Your might never ceases to amaze me, Master Fah-Raja, but did you perhaps forget that you were supposed to merely incapacitate the beast so that its soul could be collected? This one could have been used to create a great one for a new location without a doubt.” Said a second aureun as it walked past Emilia. Wearing more cloth than armor, he was clearly not prepared for combat and appeared to be some kind of a lackey or a clerk. He worded his claims carefully to not accuse King, or Fah-Raja as he was apparently known back then, of anything.

King wiped the tar-like blood from his hands on the other aureun’s clothes. “No… It honored me as an opponent by gifting me such a great battle, it was my duty to see it die rather than be subjected to your machinations. It deserved better than that.” He answered, bluntly and in a way even Emilia could tell was uncharacteristic for an aureun.

“I still do not understand what ‘honor’ has to do with anything, you were hired to gather materials.” The other aureun commented. “Obviously, you will still be paid for ridding us of the beast, but the reward is not even a tenth of what it could have been.”

The lackey took a handful of familiar-looking glass pearls from a pouch on his hip and handed five of them to King, who didn’t seem particularly interested in getting paid in the first place.

“Equally beyond my comprehension is this gaggle of failures you drag everywhere with you…” The lackey sighed and stepped away from a goblin that almost grasped his clothes.

“I do not drag them anywhere; they follow me by their own will. Besides, to me they are no more failures than you are. The effort it would take for me to send your head rolling is no greater than stomping them would be – in fact, they might well be harder to hit than you are.” King explained, sounding like he was getting tired of the conversation. “What do you have for me next? Have you finally found a creature to equal me in battle?”

The other aureun hesitated for a while. “The Great Commander Erratic Judgement has summoned the knights, Master Fah-Raja. This time it is not an invitation, it is an order.” He eventually blurted out, losing confidence after every word.

The heavily armored aureun sighed deeply and held out his hand. In a few seconds, his weapon dislodged itself from the beast’s throat and shot towards its owner, who effortlessly caught it from the air and planted its blade firmly into the ground. “So the time has come for the Knights of Stone to join the fray…” He said, not necessarily lamentingly, but unenthusiastically to say the least. “Tell me, frail whelp, do you know why The Great Commander has sent the word for us?”

“Nnno…” The lackey admitted worriedly. “All I have been taught that you were a group of rebels that were spared once and given a century to atone.”

The aureun that went on to become King laughed. “Thank you, sincerely, for proving how much of a joke your empire has become. Once upon a time, The Aureun Empire was naught but a sad little web of caverns, struggling to survive from day to day. To mend this, The Knights of Stone carved their armors from the bedrock itself and stood forth to push back the beasts and other vile creatures that threatened the aureun. As time passed, the empire grew to surpass the need for us. Yet, when we were summoned to receive our reward for tirelessly standing between you and death, all we received was a demand to turn our blades upon the other struggling civilizations. Our unhesitant refusal angered the ones in power, but not wishing to burn down the empire we helped to grow, we struck a deal – A hundred years of freedom in exchange for our souls. That hundred years has been up for a while now.” He explained calmly and stared up at the clouds.

The comparatively frail looking aureun became visibly worried even through the metal mask covering his face. No doubt he was concerned that the warrior before him wouldn’t comply, and that things would go very lethally sour for him. “I see… But you will still honor the agreement, will you not?” He asked with wavering voice and took a step back.

“I would rather you not use words you do not know the meaning of.” King scoffed and kept peering at the sky. “The past century has let me see that what little honor there was in the empire once, is now long gone… but honor the agreement I will, as I assume all of my remaining brothers and sisters have?”

“Yes, it would appear that you are the last one.” The lackey nodded relievedly.

King walked around for a bit, not saying anything. He ran his fingers along the smoot, shield-sized scales of his latest enemy and kneeled to scribble something in the dry dirt between patches of grass. This took well over ten minutes, but the other aureun didn’t say a thing to hurry him, perhaps because he nevertheless still did have respect for the warrior.

“Say, scribe, if I am the last one, how many of the knights have returned?” King suddenly asked while still scribbling.

“By our accounts, one hundred and ten have found their way to Erratic judgement as of ten days ago.” The lackey reported after checking something he pulled out of his pocket.

Suddenly King burst into uncontrollable laughter and fell on his back. The goblins surrounding him imitated this behavior and let out various screeches that only vaguely resembled laughter. Slowly findings his bearings once more, the knight slow stood up while still chuckling.

“Is there something humorous about that?” The other aureun asked while checking the thing from his pocket again, as if he was worried that he missed something.

“A century ago, one hundred and eleven knights went their separate ways with the idea of finding something in this world to defeat them in honorable battle and to deny the empire our souls – looks like every single one, including myself, failed.” He laughed and dusted his gear.

King of the past walked over to his weapon and was about to grasp it, but something changed his mind, and he pulled his arm back, leaving the strange spear embedded into the ground for good. He then took out the glass pearls he had received as payment for the kill and gathered the goblins around him. Handing each one a single pearl, he gave them a task. “My noble companions, this shall be your payment in advance. The new form that awaits me will no doubt be commanded to perform despicable deeds, but I will have no say in the matter. This is why I give you a mission of great importance: when the empire stumbles on its own hubris and falls, find me and find something or someone to restore my sense of honor.”

With the knight’s words, the scene around Emilia shattered much like before, and she was returned to the white void.

At the same time, King, who knew what was about to happen had no reaction to the world breaking into pieces. He calmly watched them to rearrange into what he knew would be some defining moment of the priestess’ life. Naturally, as he was driven by little more than finding Anastacia and perhaps revenge over the other knights, he wasn’t particularly interested in the mundane trials and tribulations of someone else. Forced to stay still and watch through the memory regardless, he waited in contempt.

The scenery where the machine chose to take King to turned out to be one that he recognized, the very steps of the temple in Crescent they had visited on their way to their current quest. The overcast sky was filled with darkening clouds that gave the entire city a feeling of looming dread, like a thunderstorm could hit it at any moment. Despite that, both the market square and the streets leading up to it were cluttered with people. In the streets and further away from the temple were the common people of the city, their faces full of concern more than anything. Before them stood an orderly mass of maybe fifty warriors in shiny steel armor, all grinning widely with their hands on the pommels of their sheathed weapons. In front of the burly warriors were three young women in similar white uniforms with long, hooded cloaks. Out of the three, the leftmost one stood out because of the armor plate armor glimmering from under her cloak – and the absolute disgust and burning rage only barely hidden by her hood, all aimed directly at the top of the stairs.

By the doors of the temple, above the common people of the land, the warriors and the maidens, stood a fat old man with a stupidly tall hat and gilded robes that trailed along the ground far behind him. His fingers were encrusted with golden rings full of precious gemstones and hanging from his neck were several equally extravagant amulets and chains. Drenched in opulence, this warty old man smiled widely and waved at the masses at his feet.

“Blessed day to you, my flock. The Lady of Joy has once more gifted us a beautiful day for work, for worship and of course, for proving your faith to her.” He started his speech by addressing everyone, and almost certainly under strict commands, the warriors clapped in unison, as did two of the maidens and around half of the other people in the audience. “I have grand news for each and every one of you! News that will no doubt pave the way for a bright, and above all, pure future! For far too long, a vile unholy presence has stewed among us. They walk our streets, sell their tainted goods and spread their disgusting culture among us like a plague. These subhuman beasts from dark forests and cruel wilderness have nested themselves within the holy walls of this city. Like all simple beasts, they prey on the prosperity granted to us by the blessings of Lady Sylvia and impede it where they can!”

Another round of applause echoed from the ranks of the paladins of the church, but this time the rest of the audience mostly just met the boasting with concerned whispers rather than support. The other two maidens in the front row had started to notice third one’s encroaching meltdown and took steps away from her.

The man claiming allegiance with Sylvia could clearly only hear the cheers of his paladins, as he proudly grinned and gestured towards the sky. “The Goddess of Joy has reached down to us once more and whispered her will to my ears, and as a humble servant like no other, I have taken it upon myself to see her divine will done!” He continued and pulled a sealed scroll from under his robes. “From this day onwards, no foul beastfolk will be allowed to own property inside the city or in its fields! So spoke our lady! All such tainted households and their contents is hereby owned by The Church of Sylvia! This shall be our first step towards purity! Towards prog-“

Before he had the chance to finish, a metal flask flew from the front row and hit him in the chest. Not quite enough to push him over, but it did stain his uniform with clear liquid and sent him into a coughing fit. The one who had thrown the flask pulled down her hood and revealed her curly, bright red hair even King recognized. Looking almost exactly like she did before entering the machine fortress; Emilia lowered her hand and began climbing towards the top of the staircase. To King, the priestess had always seemed determined, exact and swift in her movements, yet in the memory determination seemed to be the only one of those traits she possessed. Her steps were imbalanced and clumsy and even the gentle slope of the stairs proved difficult to handle.

Almost stumbling on her own cloak, the priestess gave up on the climb after only a third of the way to the top. She turned around to face the crowd and had to take a moment to recover from the movement before speaking up. “Beleili… Believe none of his shit! The Lady of Joy loves all of creation… equally! No creed is lesser than othersssin her eyes! Breastfol- Fuck… Beastfolk or otherwise!” Emilia yelled, having just as much trouble speaking as she did walking. “He speaksss not! For Our Lady! And I for one will not stand for it!”

Her drunken stunt seemed to gather a fair bit of support in the crowd in the form of hushed cheers, but with the ranks of mighty paladins standing in front of them with their weapons readied, nothing much came out of it and the priestess was left standing alone against the church.

Having recovered from the impact of the flask, the high priest straightened his hat and laughed pretentiously. “Worry not, my flock, our local drunkard is back at it again. Do you think it’s a coincidence that it is people like her who defend these lesser beings? Take Sister Emilia as a cautionary example of the corruption these people bring! She has not seen a sober day in weeks, claims to hear voices and, if the rumors are to be believed, acts rather promiscuous in questionable company!” He retorted after seeing that his sole opponent was in no condition to debate and could simply be silenced. “My paladins, could you please take Sister Emilia to her quarters to sober up.”

“Yeah, fuck it… I’ll fight all of you.” Emilia groaned and raised her fists as soon as the first few paladins moved towards her.

In the resulting scuffle, more than a few of the heavily armored warriors found themselves at the bottom of the stairs, confused by how a single drunken priestess put up so much of a fight. Several black eyes and concussions later, the priestess was starting to run out of steam and seemed to sustain herself with nothing but anger. Unfortunately, no matter how angry she was, there were simply too many paladins and eventually Emilia was dragged away through the crowd. Still kicking the paladins trying to subdue her, she yelled only partly coherent lines to encourage others to act against the church.

“Worry not, once she has calmed down, Sister Emilia will see things differently. Perhaps it is time for us to send her to handle some things out of the city…” The high priest chuckled and continued his speech as the scenery shattered into the white void once more.

As the pieces of the world returned to their correct places in the chamber deep below ground, King and Emilia didn’t say a word, but glanced at each other with a bit more respect than before. The priestess now knew King to have been at least honorable as far as the aureun went and harbored no ill motives from his past life that would possibly crop up at a later date. Similarly, the knight could tell that even at her lowest, Emilia was incorruptible and whatever the corruption inside the fort threw at them, she would stand against it.

The door leading further into the depths of the machine fortress flickered on and the pair was allowed to progress. Continuing their determined silence, they gathered their equipment and pressed onwards, but as soon as the heavy stone door slid open, they could see the new challenge waiting for them. Instead of yet another seemingly endless tunnel, what lied behind the door was an incomprehensible mess of different sceneries and places. Great pine trees that reached all the way to the clouds far above, the were there only in certain places; staircases starting from nowhere and ending without leading anywhere; puddles as deep as the sea, both on the ground and on various other surfaces; remnants of the aureun architecture as isolated tiles and patches of stone wall; marble columns hovering in the middle of the air; surfaces of pulsating flesh and countless others littered the boundless area behind the door. To add to the predicament, as soon as Emilia blinked, the door and the chamber they had been in disappeared and was replaced by the confusing mess that now continued infinitely in every direction.

“Umm… I’m guessing this isn’t what’s supposed to be here.” Emilia said and broke the silence.

King shook his head and prepared his spear and shield.

“Realities within realities. What you see is no longer an illusion and can not be dispelled through means available to me. What you see is the cluttered mess of seams between what is but is not and what is not but is as well. Created by a panicking being that is being pursued by more than just us.” Pyria helpfully pitched in, likely being the only one present who wasn’t completely out of their depth.

Suddenly both King and Emilia spotted something weaving through the nonsensical landscape in the distance: a living custodian with a whole lot of equipment in tow.

“Wait… Is that unit twelve?” Emilia asked and yelled the custodian’s designation to her. “TWELVE!”

The fort’s resident stopped in her tracks and started looking around until she noticed the pair.

“Fuck off, I’m busy!” She responded and continued running.

“Yeah, that’s her alright.” Emilia sighed and started jogging after the custodian.