Rena's legs argued with her profusely as she crossed the gap to her companion. He was posed like a child who had stolen cookies and he wore the mask of confusion. In his hands was an immaculately carved cube which appeared to be filled entirely with porous holes. She glimpsed the puffiness in his eyes, the redness of his nose. He shed a few tears in her absence and she bit her tongue when the idea of teasing him crossed her mind. Her vision blurred for an instant as she clutched at her right side.

“I'm alright...don't worry about me.” She murmured as he approached her.

The device in his hands seemed to quiver as he faced inner turmoil. She recognized his body language of someone who wished to escape into the farthest reaches of Sanctuary and never return.

The air of a deserter.

She shook her head in dismay at the thought and she motioned to the item in his hand. The glimmer suggested a sinister purpose and she had a small hunch as to what it could be.

“We've stumbled upon a Wrath of the Ancients...” He stated.

She gently motioned to a small clearing near the edge of the warehouse. The gargantuan pile of cubes seemed to reach the ceiling and threatened to destroy the foundations underneath. Pillars all about were crushed by the seemingly innocent cubes and fragments of stone crunched against their magical boots.

Rena leaned against the wall, careful not to touch the devices. Gelehrter however seemed too engrossed in the device in his hands to take notice of her fatigue.

It’s been a long time since we've been on a mission like this... I wonder if he's grown a little since our last. He was gone for a long while, but I think it is time I confess to him. Nothing of love for him...but for another. I don't have much time left, I think.

Life held loosely onto her. Despite her wounds, she whispered to him. All sources of caution begged her to hold her tongue, but she tossed it all aside.

Before any words could escape her lips, he turned to her and wrestled himself free of the contraption. Their ears rang as they searched for any source of noise, the burst of sound from the entrance nearby startled them. Voices which were hushed in a quick succession of spit, now were accompanied by many figures. They darted about in the dark like animals, their maws hanging about.

Gelehrter hastily established a mental link with Rena.

“They've a means to trap souls in these cubes. It appears as if they are using a ritual to harvest them.” She blinked as mental imagery was sent through her memory. The image of a giant hand grasping the body of a man and crushing them, their blood flying about to wet the machine.

They were a few yards away from the scene, the light emitted from the moon illuminating only the entrance and scarce else. Two figures strode into the warehouse and removed hoods from over their heads. Accalia and Targon, both in their respective Sanctuarian Council garb, commanded the scene.

In alarm, she pulled Gelehrter farther into the shadows as he attempted to gain ground, his sword hissing softly as it leaped from its scabbard.

“You've no means to fight them now... We are outnumbered.” She hissed through her teeth next to his ear. “And I've no chance against an apprentice now.”

“You're wounded?”

“Hush.” Rena ordered and he instead moved to across the the way, his back against a wall constructed of cubes. His body seemed poised to strike, but his eyes were focused on the two silhouettes before him.

“I see we are sloppy in our presentation.” Targon mused and continued. “You've a mind to overthrow Ovelia and have been guiding her in the direction you please.”

“Tonight is especially ripe.” She halted and raised her arms to the heavens, her palms opened wide. The machine roared to life, lights piercing through the veil of blackness for an instant. “Its been primed. We have plenty to harvest and little time. Ready the ritual.”

Rena spoke in a low tone, her voice carrying an aura of despair. “She means to harvest many of our former allies. Should we apprehend her, we would be killed.”

She took note of Gelehrter's body language. He had the air of an apex predator poised to strike, but her words struck a chord in him. His sword, the blade of his former master, had kissed the night air in silence. She noted his darkened demeanor, the harsh contortion of his visage into a vicious scowl. The contemplation of his station, his mission, their mission, and the audacity of jeopardizing their hiding place. This would only result in them being turned into Soul Cubes.

“I've been searching for more subjects for my experiments. It does not include this rabble, but I am hoping for more suitable specimens.” Accalia gestured to the heavens and focused onto the ominous lights which erupted from the gargantuan slab of steel which resonated harmoniously with her as she hummed. The stonework which anchored the device onto the ground coalesced with the pillars of light.

Rena scowled as she absorbed the scene in full. Though her wounds had limited her movement, she sympathized with Gelehrter's urge to destroy.

“We've not the luxury of time. Should a Justicar or the like find us, surely--” Targon seemed hesitant and was reassured with Accalia's boundless confidence.

“Justicar are mislead to believe they are in pursuit of their adversary to the South. Arden leads them and she is certain this is a chance to prove herself. The Overlord will see her daughter fitted for a casket instead.” The Royal Vizier continued for a spell. “I will persuade her to keep her adopted daughter on a tighter leash. She is far too powerful for her own well being. Should she realize her limits, she would work tirelessly to surpass them and foil our revolution.”

“A night you’re surely staking your career on.” He mused, padding by their hiding place.

Gelehrter an Rena held their breath in anticipation.

Rena felt no desire for confrontation. Her condition would only jeopardize their combat prowess.

“I'm wounded fairly--” She whispered, but was met with a finger over his lips. She obeyed reluctantly and grimaced in silent agony as she pressed her back against the wall for support.

“We've no time to treat it... We can't alert them to our position.” Gelehrter hissed through his teeth.

“Ready the specimens. We must continue in earnest.” Accalia motioned for Targon, who raised his hands as he turned about.

“Come, children. We must make haste.” He projected his voice as he relayed the orders. The vast array of personnel flocked into the warehouse in single file like zombies. Their shambling boots scraped against the ground in a disorienting cacophony as a testament to their mindless obedience. Accalia tapped her heels against the floor. They followed the silent order and lined themselves with the roaring Wrath of the Ancients. Desperately, Rena clung to the wall, forcing herself as far from the scene as possible.

They each ascended the staircase and onto the platform, the brilliant star of Sanctuary illuminated by the crystals which danced about with wild abandon. Their bodies were disintegrated in a vast explosion of white light. Dust vanished and coalesced into the shape of a cube. These devices were deposited nearby after a short spell and were scooped by another mass of people. As each of their hands grasped the surface of the device, needles pierced through their skin from all angles in unison. Blood was voraciously consumed by the device and it fell to the floor with a dull thud.

In moments, the warehouse had been filled nearly to the brim with Soul Cubes, both Justicar bearing witness to the horrific scene of their former comrades willingly destroying themselves at Accalia's whim.

Rena shook her head and staggered to her feet. Every fiber of her being urged her to rest against the wall again. Gelehrter had removed a journal from his pack and scribbled hastily onto the surface, taking little notice of Rena as she attempted to gain a more effective vantage point.

Her hand brushed against one of the many objects strewn about. The Soul Cube hissed as it activated. Thousands of needles pierced through her Blessed Star, the armor conjured around her being disintegrated. Her brain scrambled like eggs as she felt her life force drain from every aspect of her body. Instantaneously the energy locked within her Blessed Star attempted to guard her against the onslaught of the needles, but to no avail. No sound escaped her as the Soul Cube completed its function and her head turned to Gelehrter pleadingly. She barely registered the blur of his body reacting to her, his arms outstretched in vain to rescue her. As his hands pressed against fragments of her Blessed Star, the darkened cloth which similarly protected him, she had already vanished into the confines of the Soul Cube.

Memories of the distant past flooded her vision. Memories of her life, some memories muddled which filled her with melancholy. She held herself and searched for any small comfort in the vast emptiness. No matter how long she wandered in the void, she had no qualms with changing direction, for there was nothing. She padded along in the expanse and drank in its emptiness. Her memories called to her in the void. She yearned for anyone else to accompany her, but in her heart of hearts she knew there was no other soul to be found.

In the distance, a figure took shape. She wandered over, slightly embarrassed for her exposed figure. A familiar ringing of a hammer caused her to perk up and she jogged to the figure’s side. The shape focused onto her and she smiled. Ana’s bright emerald gaze filled her with warmth; the sight of the woman’s workshop filled her with an excitement she had never experienced before.

“Hello, Rena. What brings you here?” She asked, brushing her hair behind her ear. The ringing of the hammer resumed for a spell and she inspected her work casually, but kept a small portion of her attention dedicated to Rena.

“I’m…not sure where I am.” Rena admitted.

“You’re in my smithy, aren’t you?” Ana reminded her. She glanced about, her brown eyes drinking in the array of tools aligned neatly about the roaring forge. She felt the familiar drain from her Blessed Star and she turned about in confusion.

“Oh…yes, of course.” Rena accepted the details about her as fact. “How have you been? I’ve never heard much from you, so I was curious.”

“I am well.” Ana’s vague response followed a hasty continuation. “I’ve been thinking of you.”

“Pardon?”

“Yes. I have been, isn’t it strange? I’ve parted ways with Gelehrter, bless his soul.” She seemed despondent for a spell, but she recovered. “He is in a better place.”

“He’s—“

“Dead.”

“I am so sorry.”

“Pay me no mind. You have made my life so much easier during this troubled time.” Ana quenched the weapon in a strange solvent and shook her head. “I am very grateful, you know.”

“Of course; anything for you, Ana…” Rena felt unease rear its ugly head but she ignored it. Ana crossed the smithy and closed the gap between them. She rested her hands onto her shoulders and her gaze shifted up to hers. Their eyes met and butterflies wrestled in the pit of her gut.

Rena blinked as a kiss was placed upon her lips. Despite all efforts to halt the advance, she welcomed it instead. They were locked in an intimate embrace, their tongues wrestling one another for dominance. The sensation was foreign to her but it filled her with glee and in the next moment she broke free from Ana’s embrace to breathe

“I’m sorry…” She said retreating to the safety of her work.

“No! I-I…” Rena stammered. “I welcome this. I’ve always wanted to—“

Before she could finish, the environment was drained of color and appeared to chip like old paint. The flakes were blown in all directions by heavy gusts of air, the tools in Ana’s workshop disintegrating. She took a few steps back in horror, covering her mouth with her hand. The figure before her bore no visage but a faint semblance of what used to be Ana. Eyes filled with an emerald forest were demolished and paved over with the concrete of nothingness, the skin deteriorating while maggots sprouted from the grotesque form. It closed the gap between them and reached for her visage. Desperately she fought to free herself but to no avail. The face pressed itself against hers in the gesture of a kiss and it instantly changed from Ana, to Arden, then herself. She stared into her own eyes in disbelief. Without hesitation she shoved the figure away and it vanished along with the room she stood in.

Once again, she found herself in the white void. She glanced all about in alarm—Rena expected something else to leap at her from the whiteness—and reached for her sword instinctively but grimaced as she felt the soft skin along her hip. The emptiness threatened to engulf her in its cold embrace. Desperately she clung to some sort of small hope and comforted herself with a hug.

Her senses were unusually acute. Rena’s form obeyed her every whim in the void, even transforming into a much taller, shorter and a greater muscular form of her before returning to normal. She leapt high into the heavens and landed perfectly on her feet. Clouds of dust were kicked high into the air as she took to a gallop with wild abandon. She sprinted indefinitely and her body made no notion of protest.

With a few waves of her hand, wreathes of flame were weaved about, her movements could be called a melancholy dance. The flames dissipated into a wisp of smoke and water seeped out of the void. Her elaborate movements then halted and the water vanished into steam, electricity flowing out from each of her appendages. She grunted and her muscles bulged, the veins locked from within breaking the surface of her skin before they returned to their normal place.

Another figure took shape before her. The familiar Blessed Star of Sanctuary graced her chest. Luminescent sapphire eyes focused onto her and a short sword hissed as it leaped from its scabbard. At her side another weapon hung limply, the ornate opalescent hilt gleaming despite the lack of light. Its pommel showed evidence of wear, her intuition reminding her of its wielder. Arden's stark pink hair fell to her shoulders, the memory of the day she finally cut her hair materialized for a brief instant. She then reached for her sword and felt a wave of relief when her hand clasped onto the familiar weathered grip of her weapon. Rena shook her head in a similar fashion, the movement caused her a sense of deja vu.

Arden's weapon was pointed to the floor.

She glanced about and blinked as the drain of her Blessed Star returned. Rena was poised to strike, but surmised a better stance. Arden was a Mortem, highly skilled and able to learn exceedingly well. They were not alone. Though they were senior members of the Sanctuarian Justicar, Arden's prowess often warranted an audience any time she participated in a Justicar's Duel. Rena halted a twinge of jealousy, her duels were met with ridicule or criticism. Arden was undefeated and fought with a simple shortsword. At her height, the weapon was shorter than the length of her arm. Others often fought with broadswords or bastard swords, but she limited herself purposefully—as if she needed a handicap. Arden loomed over her like the Sanguine Overlord she was destined to become, the sheer terror behind her stoic features sent chills down her spine.

A congregation swarmed around them. She drank in their expressionless visages. Hollow eye sockets watched a quick exchange of blows. Rena remained steadfast and parried another hasty blow. The next was followed by a feint to her right, a swift sweep of her legs with the blunt of her sword. Rena kept her poised and dashed away, turning the blade over slap her opponent with the flat. A temporary stun was her only reprieve, for Arden staggered back and then lunged forward. The tip of her weapon intentionally missed her and she forced her weapon to change direction. A blow to Rena's shoulder rendered her knee to buckle under its strength, the devastating strike caused her eyes to widen with awe. In the instant, her memory reminded her of the loss which was quickly approaching. Her mind replayed her staggering to her feet before being met with a blaze engulfed fist. However, the instant was replayed countless times. Each resulted in pain and embarrassment. Despite this, she knew deep down Arden cared for her safety and she held back immensely. Others did not acquire Arden’s kindness and suffered brutal defeat, whether it took a single blow or several minutes mattered little.

Rena gasped as she relived each devastating blow with Arden. While Gelehrter was missing, Rena trained extensively with the fledgling Justicar. At the time, Rena Rena showed some measure of mercy—this changed over a short period of time. She gave Arden her full strength in hopes of garnering some measure of an edge. She struggled in vain to match her prowess and instead worked to improve their knowledge collectively.

The elder of the two Justicar spent countless hours in the Grand Athenaeum. Her research seemed aimless.

Arden marked her page with a loose piece of parchment and Rena followed suit. They shared on another’s company extensively and gained some insight to each other’s quirks. The younger of the pair took breaks and often did so with little signal, refraining from the usual slam of a tome on the table. Rena secretly enjoyed their rendezvous, her dark brown eyes meeting the other woman’s. She rested her hands onto her knees, guising her glee with attentiveness akin to a reserved master to their student.

“I’ve been wondering…” Arden played coy. “Are we allotted leave at certain intervals?”

“I don’t see why not. Many often turn in their leave for more pay though.” Rena replied. Shouldn’t she know this already? She thought absentmindedly.

She recognized a hint of ulterior motive. They refrained often from engaging in one another’s personal affairs.

This time begged a shift in protocol.

“You’ve been aloof, what has been troubling you?” Her question hung in the air while Rena weighed her words carefully. Arden, her bright sapphire eyes studying her, waited patiently for her reply. Rena took note of her soft features, the high cheekbones, the loose bangs parted over both eyes, the clump of hair hanging loosely on the bridge of her nose. Her lips were moistened by a pale pink lip balm which was kept in her pockets. The proportions of her visage and her frame were unusually aesthetically appealing.

“I’ve just been working on a few things here and there. You’re busy yourself, aren’t you?” Rena asked.

“Perhaps, don’t dodge my question with one of yours. You know my mother and I have a rocky relationship. My life has been supervised by you since I was a little girl.” Arden retaliated hastily, her temper getting the better of her. Rena merely reached for her book. It was bound by leather which gleamed as her fingers touched the surface; the parchment glued within emitted an eerie glow. Various spells were scrawled and documented in the pages; intricate notes were jotted down in the margins of the tome. As she began to attempt to absorb its contents, her attention was divided between the book and Arden. Her eyes darted from the book then to her partner in quick succession.

She shook her head in dismay.

“These spells are a waste.” Her partner commented. “We should be sparring, or gathering intelligence, or anything other than this. A recon mission in the East would be a welcome change!”

Unrest continued to rear its ugly head. Sanctuary suffered extensively from the vampire threat, especially the food stores. They were being taxed heavily each day and farmers worked tirelessly to keep Sanctuary’s Templarate and Justicar fed. Immense domes were erected to continue production well into the night and they were well defended against their enemy.

Justicar were stationed at each area and fought tirelessly to protect their source of food. not only for themselves, but for everyone. Rena found the irony in both Sanctuarian and vampire’s situation amusing.

However, her attention had diverted enough and she watched her partner from behind her book. The tome served its purpose to shield her from Arden’s gaze. With each passing second, Rena took small mental notes of her partner’s quirks. From the way she brushed her hair behind her ear, the direction her fingers drummed against the table impatiently, Rena knew better than any when she was annoyed.

She realized then her infatuation with Arden.

Rena kept this knowledge to herself. If Arden caught wind of her musings, she feared for the worst.

“Perhaps you could stay in one of our guest’s rooms instead of the barracks. I owe you that at least.” She suggested without looking away from her work.

“Arden, that is—“ She was interrupted by a simple glance and she took the bait. “Fine, if you insist.”

A smile spread across her face in reply and they remained in content silence with one another.

Their day seemed like any other. They were relieved by another pair of Justicar and continued their research while they enjoyed some rest. Instead of parting ways in their usual manner on the lift, they remained together. Though Arden was Rena’s superior in birth and skill, she constantly had been reminded of the respect she garnered with her years of service. Arden showed small signs of this and it flustered Rena in ways she could not fully comprehend.

They exited into the dark corridor which had been illuminated by the dim torch sconces. As they strode by, they burst into the familiar white flame. Much like Arden’s gesture, the sight of the blaze sent warmth through her. The massive metallic doors groaned as they neared and allowed them entry. A cozy blaze cackled in the fireplace, the ominous gaze of the late Ernald still sent chills through her spine. His visage bore many similarities with Arden’s, save for the masculinity. She fondly remembered the other aspects of the living area, for many of her earlier Justicar days were spent being briefed by her Sanguine Overlord. Coincidentally, her Overlord exited her quarters like all others who did not expect company, bewildered and in her bath robe, the stark contrast to her usual commanding aura.

Ovelia spotted them and lifted a hand in a nonchalant wave. They returned the courtesy and formalities were tossed to the wayside following the exchange. The Sanguine Overlord, now a simple mother, crossed the gap and hugged them both as tight as she could.

“Mother, I--”

“My Overlord, I--”

Both responses were brushed aside by a wave of Ovelia's hand.

“My daughter and her companion. Its not often that I greet you two as a mother rather than your superior.” Rena caught the slightest glimpse of the fatigue which encompassed Ovelia's everyday life, her posture slumped over in a slouch. She served everyone else's needs before her own and work often followed her to bed. Like her Justicar, she appeared deprived of sleep but held to a steadfast alertness at all times.

“Aye, I haven't seen you like this in ages.” Rena couldn't halt her smile's advances upon the trenches of her visage as she replied.

“We've a long night ahead of us tomorrow as well. Would you mind if Rena stayed the night with here?” Arden asked.

She received an inquisitive raise of an eyebrow from Ovelia, but she bit. “Of course, no problem at all.”

They spoke little afterward and Ovelia retired to her quarters. Arden and Rena approached one of the many bookshelves lining the walls nearby. She reached for an inconspicuous volume and played coy.

“Oh, you like to read, don't you?”

“What do you--” Her breath caught as the sound of gears clicking into place. The shelf shifted backward to reveal another hallway. They traversed into the dark corridor, torch sconces revealing themselves in a brilliant eruption of flame. Once they reached the end of the hallway they halted nearly in unison. Shivers of excitement and curiosity shook her, but she hastily quieted them.

“You don't have to stay in the guest's room if you don't want to...” She suggested, motioning to her quarters.

“Are you...?”

“You may bunk with me tonight if you like.” Arden offered. The temptation to accept compelled her to leap at this chance, even if it were to lead nowhere.

“Sure, if you don't mind.” Rena swallowed a rush of glee and followed a few steps behind her.

“I don't have many friends...many who have had the opportunity were other influential nobles scoping the market for a boon.” Arden growled under her breath. “I am loathe to admit I find myself in company with flowers in one hand with a dagger in the other. Its a nice change when we are together.”

Rena raised an eyebrow as the tone of her voice softened. The door swung wide as she made quick work of the runic lock. She doused the magic from her fingertips and they stepped inside. A noble's bedchamber normally would have the stock of trophies or other symbols of the past, but Rena smiled as she glimpsed the minimalist lifestyle suggested through Justicar training. In the corner of the room she spotted a desk. The clutter demanded her to reach over and clear it of the worldly possessions, such as various broken weapons and piles of old papers. Rena growled under her breath as she caught the sight of putrid petals rendered nearly to dust from Arden's trampling. She peered at the contents and noticed small flickers as the words rearranged themselves from a letter, then to a book, then back into strips of loose empty parchment.

Her attention was demanded by Arden's silent gesture. She had rested her weapon in the rear of the room nearest to the bed. As she handed her the worn longsword, their fingers brushed against one another and she turned away to hide a blush.

Geez, I'm like a little girl again. Rena thought.

The idea was strange no matter how many scenarios she pictured through in her head. She turned about to drink in the rest of the bed chambers, but she instead faced the mattress of Arden's bed. It was a simple bed, some sheets, a plain blanket accompanied by four pillows. Strangely lavish compared to her own, but it was a bed nonetheless.

Arden and Rena deactivated their Blessed Star's with a touch of their fingertips. As the luminescent pixel boxes danced along their frames and revealed their attire underneath, Rena was loathe to admit the disparity between them. Arden's mail hauberk appeared to be forged only moments ago, the cloth undershirt shimmering as she sat on the bed to quickly pull off her leather boots. The footwear showed little signs of wear—Arden spent obscene amounts of time in the Citadel and all Justicar are forced to identify themselves with their activated Blessed Stars at all times—and she tossed them aside, working her socks free. She stood upright and pitched them into a nearby basket before lifting the mail shirt off, which she hung on a nearby hook and then she climbed out of her pantaloons.

Rena stood in awe of Arden, who simply brushed hair behind her ear after the whole ordeal.

“Are you going to get comfortable or am I going to have to coerce you?” She said, tossing the pantaloons into the nearby basket.

“E-er...” Rena nodded and then hastily removed her clothing, setting them beside the basket. While Arden headed for a dresser, she removed a set of matching nightgowns. She tossed it over to her without a glance and she quickly changed into the gown. “I...I can't accept this.”

“You are my guest and my companion. Accept what I offer because I will not take no for an answer.” She growled.

Rena swallowed her pride and changed into the gown. The fabric was sleek and soft, although it reached the floor. Arden crossed over to her and placed a gentle kiss onto her cheek before she took her place onto the bed. “Arden, what're you--”

“Coming to bed?” The answer struck her square in the chest and she nodded in reply. As her feet padded along the wooden floor, she glimpsed a faint flicker in her peripherals. She whirled about only to find nothing but the room and a confused Arden, who crawled to the end of the mattress. Her eyes widened as the woman heaved her on top of her. She gazed into the deep sapphire hues which flowed endlessly within her eyes. A calm ocean lazily lapped at the shore, the breeze cool and the atmosphere gentle. Arden's hands rested onto the center of her shoulders and she gingerly pulled Rena to press against her.

As contentment settled onto Rena, another flicker occurred before her. She blinked in surprise as she drank in her own visage. The dark eyes, the brown hair, the beige tone of her own skin—she struggled to break free from her own clutches but to no avail. Her head darted from one side to another as panic settled in. Around them the walls glowered at them dubiously, the widened dark eyes focused onto them. Finally, Rena was able to struggle free and she crashed to the floor. Her shoulder knocked over all of the weapons propped against the wall. As she regained her footing, her Blessed Star activated as a blow threatened to connect to her. The barrier absorbed the initial force but she gritted her teeth as she staggered up against the wall.

Desperately she reached for her longsword and the blade kissed the air with a swift pull. The figure before her began to deteriorate as the sharp edge pierced through its gut, the whites of the eyes filling with scarlet. She took a step back and shoved her shoulder into the being. The silhouette collapsed onto the bed and her gaze instinctively focused onto the wound. She witnessed infinite versions of herself performing the same action. In horror, she watched as several instances the figure before her recovered to strike back. The shower of brilliant pixel boxes followed a stream of blood as it pierced through the magical armor. Her doubt was her weakness and it was exploited mercilessly.

In another instant she returned to the bed beside Arden. The look of adoration was replaced with that of horror as she swallowed the levity of her situation. Her chest swelled with rage.

“What is the matter? You've the look of someone who's seen something horrifying.” Arden cooed as she gently stroked Rena's cheek with her fingertips.

This isn't real...none of it is. The kiss, the time I am spending here with Arden. Its...not REAL. She reminded herself in a relentless volley.

Rena shut her eyes and an image of Gelehrter appeared. She watched as she vanished into nothingness, a prisoner of the Soul Cube. He caught the Cube after it absorbed her, the stoic features replaced with that of shock. His habit of discretion was absolute, but he allowed himself the privilege to weep for his friend. Gelehrter disappeared from view moments later and she drank in the sensation of her atoms being absorbed into the metallic container. The sensation became normal after a spell and she opened her eyes again.

All around them the eyes from before held steadfast in their assault. Millions of the same instance took shape before her, most of them the same. Surrounding the bed was the familiar wooden floor, but she was glued to the mattress beside Arden. Her eyes darted about as she drank in the imagery of herself, perhaps in another reality—or even the same reality she existed in now—releasing what would be a heart wrenching wail, only to see silence. Arden, or what would be her imagination, attempted to comfort her. In several instances Rena witnessed herself reach for a weapon and strike, the blade sheathing into her adversary's shoulder, while in others she fell docile at the touch of another individual. Her throat burned with the feeling of screaming, but she appeared to be simply laying next to Arden.

Her instincts screamed at her to escape.

Escape.

Escape.

ESCAPE!

If only it were so easy. To escape the phantom and the like would be a blessing. She would be able to see Ana, Arden, Ovelia, many of her compatriots again. The struggle would only remain in fleeing the prison she had by chance put herself in. She finally shook her head.

“You're not real. You've shown no interest in me romantically before now. I am below your expectations. What even are you?” Rena bellowed.

Arden's visage contorted into anger. Silence reared its ugly head and hung over the pair.

Desperately she leaped to her feet and drew her trusty longsword. She bounded away while Arden unsheathed her simple shortsword, the eyes which surrounded them closed as they ventured beyond the confines of the bed. Their blades clashed in a shower of sparks and they struggled to overpower one another. Though she knew her own strength paled in comparison, Rena led with all her weight. As they struggled, time around them seemed to halt. Rena broke free and struck again. Her movement reminded her of flowing cold molasses, but the power behind the strike was all she could muster. A few short moments passed and she merely lingered in mid-air.

I'm stopping myself. She realized. Millions of realities presented themselves to her. From her head to her toes, her muscles bulged unnaturally. They struggled to keep apace with her demands, the weight of her sword increasing with every movement.

Finally, her blow connected. The strike sent shivers down her spine. Arden's frame crumpled under her weapon, but she held steadfast. She unsheathed the weapon from the silhouette of Arden. Her eyes widened as millions of her reflections peered back at her wearing a malicious grin. However, deep in the chasm of possibility, she saw Arden's image standing over her. Goosebumps rose from her skin and she shook her head.

Rena grimaced. “My prison is of my own making, but I cannot seem to find a middle ground. Should I simply go along with it until I am somehow rescued?”

Another thought occurred to her.

According to Justicar Doctine and The Justicar Way, the Grand Atheaneum collects any and all written documents. She hurried to the desk and shoved the clutter aside. Her eyes flashed with a newfound fervor as she jotted down a message.

Gelehrter,

This is Rena. I have been detained inside of a Soul Cube for...I'm not sure how long. This plane is maddening. Please return me to my original form. I need my body back. Something, anything—please, break me out of here.

Rena Arlene

Her eyes glazed over as she dipped the pen and scrawled her message across thousands of sheets of parchment.