"What do you mean Hallson is dead too?" Joran had aggressively asked Ruben after the next morning when Reigan had announced the existence of the Basilisk to the Assembly.

Ruben shook his head dismissively, "Similar to Joseph. Died to the kobolds. In your own report, there was another pack of Kobolds. They must've been the ones that ambushed her."

After the meeting, Joran had asked Ruben if he could talk to Brandy and Hallson about the expedition they had all been on. Ruben started off with the news of Hallson being killed which threw Joran off completely.

Most people were already gone, but some of the leaders kept a wary ear to listen to this conversation. Joran's frustration was only matched by his utter confusion.

"I never actually did get to hear what Brandy's report was. Somehow it's myself, Hando, and Brandy that made it out alive, but those two didn't?"

Ruben stood emotionless as he looked down at Joran, his eyes void of anything but scorn, "And it's fortunate you were the ones that made it out. We're still investigating those 'mysterious means' you referred to in your general report. Brandy submitted a report to me, and for various reasons, I've not reported it to the Assembly."

Joran sighed as he recalled the conversation from earlier in the day. He now found himself in yet another sleek car. This one was longer than the ones before, and had stripes of blue that ran around it. This car was from a surprising patron, however.

After Ruben walked away from Joran, Joran was approached by someone he hadn't expected to meet on a personal basis. Her short physique and long blonde hair were distinct. And of course, Joran was wary, as he folded his arms while Audra approached him.

"What do you want, Cael?"

Audra frowned slightly, and then held her hands up, "Hey, take it easy. I came over because I heard about Hallson."

"Okay. So?"

Audra took a moment to look into Joran's eyes, and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before continuing, "Listen, Hallson was originally from my sect. Hearing that she's passed away is news to me. I know you seem to have something personal invested in this, so please, go to her family in Ardenta, and send them my regards; I'm sure they haven't been told either."

And that's how Joran ended up in this car with a silent driver, passing through the backside of Crown City, watching the skyline slant downwards gradually, until it leveled off into factories, laboratories, and shops sprawled within Shinal. He had been perplexed by Audra's request ever since he had left the Assembly. More than anything, he was baffled by the fact Audra wasn't aware of Hallson's passing away. He understood why he hadn't heard of it, but why did Brandy only report to Ruben?

Why would she do that…?

Furthermore, why Ardenta? Joran only vaguely began to understand the Metropolis and the cities within, but he was keenly aware of Ardenta's status as the most rogue city. What did Hallson gain by living there? Such questions were finally entering Joran's mind after a wild bout of escapades over the past week or so. He knew how far away Ardenta was, so it was time for him to get comfortable with his thoughts. Especially after the couple of failed attempts to converse with the driver.

Reigan had already increased security around the places in between Adpol and Evergreen, just in case that Basilisk they saw ever surfaced. So for now, the ongoing progression of getting prepared for the Invasion was still steadily underway. Orcs were supposedly starting to be seen more and more out in Inven. It's even gotten to the point that Reigan had called in assistance from the Mages to keep Boreas in check. Although, based on their reports, there was no activity there whatsoever.

Drekor was swamped in paperwork in regard to authorizing and mobilizing assets and trading, something he was keen to bemoan to Joran on the otherwise sullen trip back to Crown City last night. But in the glimpses where Drekor wasn't venting, Joran gleaned from him that there was a surge in Beast activity beginning to sprout on the trading routes between the Metropolis and the Borderlands as well.

Joran thought to himself, They're in the forest… In the sewers… and in the desert? Are they really just coming from everywhere…?

Although he had left in the early morning, Joran noticed the sun was high above him when they had finally passed the outskirts of Shinal's industry. Turning onto a lone road that seemed to be completely barren on either side, save for the occasional tree that slowly but surely became to be cacti. Joran frowned, and looked over to the driver, imploring one last time.

"We're going to Ardenta, right? Why is it already looking like it's the Wasteland?"

The driver finally spoke up, her voice in a slight mockery, "Wow, you really don't know much, do you Joker? Ardenta is centered around an oasis out here. Its sole purpose is to put the…. Less likable populace out of the way. Not that they needed convincing, anyways."

Joran squinted his eyes, annoyed at the mental correction she had obviously made. She was really meaning to label them as rogues, outlaws, and gangsters. Almost all of these types resided in Ardenta. Even with that, Joran still felt it was a bit much as he saw as far as the eye could see on either side, nothing but white and yellow sand. All flat.

Putting these rogues out this far and out of the way keeps them out of the Metropolis's eye, and it lets them have their own oasis of lawlessness. Realizing the irony, Joran smirked.

The sun had already moved down halfway across the sky before they finally caught a glimpse of the so-called town. Here, the road was cracked, baked mercilessly under the now blazing hot sun. The drive began to get rougher and rougher. Eventually, Joran couldn't help but feel maybe the ride in the jeep out into Inven was smoother.

As they neared Ardenta, Joran could see the sand-white structures standing tall, all by their lonesome against the bleak sky. The immediate surroundings were green and lush with shrubbery, with some variants of trees Joran had never seen before standing like polka-dots across the modest skyline. But with how far away they were, Joran couldn't help but liken the city to a fragile piece of glass teetering on a cliff.

The city itself sprawled low, with only a few structures barely over 4 or 5 stories tall. However, that betrayed the expectation of not many people living there.

Immediately upon going through the petite gates, Joran found himself in what he could only describe as slums. Makeshift roofs barely fended off the sunlight off a multitude of sandy, dirtied people. Tattered clothes that were wrapped desperately around people. They all looked to askance the car's arrival, and numbly went on about their activities. Before Joran could feel any pity, he watched as one of them snatched what looked like a bag from another, unsuspecting person on the other side of the road.

The driver finally spoke up, unprovoked, "They're all either rogues of society, outright criminals, or descendants that bore the cursed brand of such."

"… Surely there are those that went to the Central Districts?"

"And came back with threes or even twos."

Silent, Joran looked back over to the crowd as they drove by them slowly. Finally, they had gotten into the core of the city, where the slums gave way to proper buildings, people who looked exponentially more well off than those not even a block away.

"I don't know what's worse, the Exam's exacting fortune telling, or society sending these people here."

"They made their choices. Besides, it's not like it's all criminals. You're here to meet up with one of your comrade's family, are you not? Cael is the dominant family here, after all."

Joran lost his voice as he mindlessly gazed at the passing people. It was now, when they passed into an open promenade, that he could now see some people entertaining others by shapeshifting into random, outlandish variants of people. He knew that the Altering Cael's Sect Arts allowed them to shapeshift; although he also knew it was restrained to humanoid forms.

But he hadn't known that this was the city that Audra could be considered the "ruler" of. A ruler of no rules.

Joran was taken aback slightly, as they pulled up into a small district of modest abodes. They could see some children playing on the side, who now scampered off the road to let them pass. Joran glanced at them, giving small waves, reciprocated only by wary glares. Pulling up to a particular abode, at the end of the cul-de-sac, the driver gestured Joran out.

"We're here. Hallson's residence."

"Ah. Well, I won't be long, I don't think. Thank you…" Joran's voice trailed off, and the driver sighed in defeat.

"Ripley. It's Ripley Cael. I'll see you soon."

Joran smiled warmly and nodded, before he closed the door and looked up at the abode properly. It was barely 2 stories, with only half of a top floor. The bleak yellow hue of it reflected the bright orange sun, nearly blinding Joran. He walked up to the door, anxious, and knocked.

After a few moments, he came face to face with a modest man, tanned skin, and clear sign of age chiseled into his face. He held no smile, only tired eyes as he looked expectantly to the newcomer.

"A- uhm. My name is Joran. I was on an expedition with Hallson, and wanted to see you…?"

The man gave one look up and down, and curtly responded, "I see. Come in," Walking back inside, leaving the door open.

Joran awkwardly traipsed inside, wary of his surroundings. It was dramatically cooler inside, although the heat wasn't why he was now sweating. He could see an assemblage of sickles on the wall, 6 of them in an orderly, neat row. The tanned man came back from what seemed to be the kitchen with a pair of cups of tea, looking over to see Joran studying the sickles nervously.

With a proud look on his face, the man spoke, "Hallson always brought home her sickles as the rewards of her missions. She was very proud of her work for the Metropolis."

He gestured to the modest chair in front of Joran as he sat in his own across the small table that he rested the cups on. Joran slid into his chair silently, picking up the cup. The tea was bitter, but given the circumstances, Joran bit his tongue and enjoyed it, letting the man continue.

"She was exemplary. The best of the best to be sure. I never understood why she decided to stay in Ardenta. But then again, her old man is here," with that, he chuckled as he scratched his neck; it was obvious enough he was referencing to himself.

As he took a sip, Joran croaked, "You're talking about her in past tense, why?"

At this, the soft look the man held hardened, and he looked up, "Because you're here. You have news to tell me, don't you?"

"I…" Joran's throat went parched, and he had to avert his eyes.

It wasn't that he felt guilty. It was that he had no idea what really happened.

Joran closed his eyes, and before he could even continue, the man interjected, "Just tell me, I knew that this was always a possibility. That her duties would get her killed."

"It's not that she was killed. I don't know how she was killed," Joran admitted, exasperatedly.

The man chuckled, "Alright, smart boy. So she did die. The Beasts finally laid claim on her."

Joran looked up to the man whose hardened eyes betrayed no emotion other than mild sorrow, "That's it? You were expecting it, but not even a tear?"

"You really think I'm going to cry in front of a stranger like you? How do you think someone like me would survive out here, then?"

"… I see."

The man studied Joran, then nodded towards the empty cup on the table, "How was the tea?"

"It was fine."

"You need to work on lying too, boy."

Joran gritted his teeth, standing up in frustration, glaring at the man whose eyes followed Joran's, "Look, I was told to come here, and send the news that yes! Yes, Hallson is dead! And so was another one of our teammates! I just don't understand why!"

"Well it's obvious, right? It was Beasts."

Joran stayed silent, but his eyes betrayed more complicated emotions, and for the first time, the man softened his face directly at Joran, and meaningfully studied Joran in silence.

"Alright, I didn't give you enough credit. Who are you?"

"… I'm Joran?"

"I mean what Family."

"None. I'm the Joker."

"…" The man broke into a manic laughter, a sudden transition that startled Joran, who snapped out of his silence, taking small steps backwards and away from the man.

"Go figure. This mission would've been her crowning achievement, then. It's really a damn shame then."

"… I don't think I understand. I don't exactly get this whole 'glory' thing anyways. I never cared for it."

"Really? What were you before the Exam then?"

"Gouriki. Rooted. My parents were a pair of farmers out in Kaywood."

The man tussled with his chin, silent for a few minutes before speaking again, "Well, that might explain your perspective. I don't think I've met anyone beyond Ardenta that'd even consider other people as anything other than allies."

Joran frowned, "Well, I didn't exactly say—"

"You implied it. Your silence told me everything I needed to know. You don't think it was Beasts that killed my daughter, do you?"

Looking around for a moment, Joran sighed, his eyes instinctively hardening as he recalled the encounter, "I don't know what exactly happened to Hallson. But, the other one that died, his name was Joseph Jura. When I found him, he was smashed by an orc. But before then, he was already on the ground. The Realm Monarch himself had said it didn't make sense a Bloodhound would let himself get crushed by an orc."

"Hm, yeah, Hallson did say that Bloodhound members were tenacious and fast. She said something about them being prideful of not being taken down easily…"

Joran nodded along, "The Realm Monarch said that supposedly the only way to shut down their Blood Gazing Arts is to sever either their ankles or wrists. And I mean… He said himself that not many people knew that."

"It sounds like the Realm Monarch is actually pretty intuitive himself."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he's the one telling you outright that an orc couldn't have done that to this Joseph Jura. So obviously another human was involved, right?"

"Well… I don't know. Maybe Hallson did it?"

The accusation was met with deafening silence. His eyes shaking slightly, Joran meekly looked at the father's eyes, who was mostly confused, but also angry.

But he coolly responded after another few moments of silence, "Hallson would have… Right. She died for the Metropolis! There's no real reason she could've had for killing him, this Joseph wasn't from Heca."

That caught Joran's attention, "What do you mean by that? She would've cared more if he was Joseph 'Heca'?"

"Of course. You know that the Warding Bloodhound Clan is directly responsible for the Altering Cael Sect's decline, right? That Cael is the dominant family of only Ardenta because of them?"

At this, Joran shook his head. He knew that there was rough history between the two Clans, at least between the two leaders. He didn't realize there was legitimate reason behind it though. With this, the man explained the history of Cael, and how they were originally the policing force. They once had the ability to shapeshift as they pleased. But eventually, generations ago, the Idaten Family took over the Throne from Gouriki, and gradually waned the power Cael had, instead giving it to Heca. Their reasoning, as far as the man knew, was that they disliked the subterfuge that Cael operated under, and as they lost their influence, they began to lose their Arts, as the people in the Clan began to do other things. Trade, factory work, the hard menial work of the Metropolis. Until they could only shapeshift themselves into other humans, a few of them being barely capable of other humanoid shapes. The reason for the hard history between Heca and Cael started only with Audra, however.

In an act of defiance, Audra challenged Ruben to a Soma Lum. Being the last Cael that could shapeshift into almost anything freely, she had taken him on as an orc and almost won. But the loss was bitter. In his victory, Ruben seized the few vestiges of influence that Cael had, leaving only Ardenta as the only place Cael could claim as the dominant family. The only reason Cael was even a Major Family, was because Reigan recognized the fight Audra put up in the Soma Lum, offering her the seat in the Assembly that still stood for her Family.

And this Soma Lum had happened not even 10 years ago. Joran recalled that Hando had mentioned another time where Audra had raised some hell in the Crown City Precinct, chuckling to himself quietly at the coincidence.

Joran processed everything the man told him, "So Cael has a vendetta against Heca?"

"Do you blame us?"

Joran thought back to the veneer of friendliness Jeremiah had for him, broken only by the disparity of stratums between them, grimly he responded, "No. I really don't."

"Most of us that were Cael got moved to this shithole slowly, over generations. Sometimes because they did commit crimes, other times just because. The last of us that weren't here got moved when the Soma Lum was lost. AS much as I hate Audra, I can't say I fault her for the struggle. But it did brand Cael as a cursed name, forever."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that."

The man turned to Joran, a new light shone within his eyes, a glint of complex emotions Joran couldn't really make out, "I appreciate what you're saying, kid. But you can't overturn an entire history of my people being made out as shifty and deceitful. We could turn into anything that isn't us! What more reason does the common person need?"

Joran shook his head, empathizing with the question, "I made a promise to the Realm Monarch to stay true to who I am. And that includes tearing down this reprehensible hierarchy."

"Well," the man held out his hands in defeat, "You are the Joker. Perhaps the only person who can maybe pull that stunt off."

They shared a comfortable silence. Joran started to like the tea, much to his surprise; or maybe he was coming to terms with the Cael's history, and how it was also just as bittersweet. With the rest of his tea, he furrowed his brows.

"If it wasn't Hallson… Then it was Brandy? That can't be, though."

"Hm, why not? I can't say I would be surprised if that's what the Heca started to do."

"No," Joran glared at the man, "As much as I find myself annoyed with Chief Ruben, he wouldn't jeopardize his own Clan for that. Even more, he handpicked her to be the leader of the mission."

With a shrug, the man mulled over his now empty cup, "I'll give you that it doesn't make much sense that whoever it was, they also killed Joseph. A Jura, and a Cael. There's really no correlation whatsoever. You could be comparing a bush to a tree at that point."

Stumped, Joran noticed the sun was starting to set, and he could feel fatigue settle on him, "Well, again, I'm sorry for your loss, sir. Does she have any more family?"

With a silent rebuke, the two stood up and shook hands, and Joran departed. In the car again, Joran slouched into his seat, blankly staring at the car's ceiling as Ripley drove them back through the slums. It took a herculean will for Joran to not look at the people as they went by.

The veil of twilight descended and passed as they made way through the Wasteland once more. The white sand almost seemed to glisten to the starlight above them. Being this far out from the Metropolis, the canvas of the night sky was dotted with the cosmos, even with a whisp of the galaxy arm streaking across the sky horizontally. The view captivated Joran for a long time.

"This mission would've been her crowning achievement, then."

Sleep took Joran, as Ripley slowly approached the edge of the Wasteland, and entering the Metropolis.

In sleep, Joran could feel the velvety blanket of the ocean submerge him once more. With a beleaguered sigh, Joran looked around in the now familiar turquoise water, expectant.

Being more aware of what was happening, he looked more closely to where he was. He wasn't aware of any water even remotely similar, not even the lakes that were scattered throughout the Central Districts. The light that hit the water seemed to be sunlight, only at an angle that suggested there was nothing around to block the sunrise. The colors were dark orange and red as it filtered through the surface. Peering below him, it looked as if it continued on forever, the darkness swallowing up the scattered light. A sense of vertigo overtook him quickly, so he looked away, and scanned his surroundings again. It was then that he could feel himself get pulled further into the depths, until the light from the surface was barely there. All he could do now, was wait for the same voice.

The ethereal voice again resonated through the water, as well as through his head, "So the Joker comes back, hm?"

His head swimming in a nauseating sensation, he struggled to speak without speaking, "An… And so what? W-who are you? You're the one--!"

With a groan, Joran cupped his head and crouched into a fetal position, it had felt like a pin splintered into a billion pieces inside his own head. The water began to become cold like before.

The voice casually spoke, as casually as a disembodied voice could in Joran's mind, "So much confusion, even though you're no longer on the cusp of death. And yet… So much tenacity. You seem as though you were eager to meet again?"

Joran scoffed, closing his eyes, which seemed to still be open, "I just want to know who you are…. What you are."

"Hm? Do you think perhaps, I'm a Beast?"

Joran fell silent, and the voice emanated a soft laugh, "Child, you have no idea what I am. But then again, you might."

Joran felt a current surge from underneath him, rocketing him back up from the depths, as he could hear the voice get quieter and quieter the closer he got to the surface.

Right before he surfaced into the bath of sunlight, he woke up from his slumber, and he could feel the whisper of the tantalizing voice send tendrils down the back of his neck, "I'm you."

"Get up," rubbing his eyes, Joran realized Ripley was shaking him from his sleep, and he shook his head to clear his foggy mind.

Looking around, he could see it was still night time. And that they weren't in Crown City, but in a residential district filled with modest houses.

"What's the meaning of this, Ripley?"

"Joker," Joran could now see that Ripley was panicking and trying to calm down.

"… Where are we?" This was enough to snap Joran out of his groggy state completely, fighting to get more alert.

Before Ripley could talk more however, he could hear a guttural bellow from further ahead. It was something large. And it was familiar to Joran. And then he could hear the shouts of soldiers clashing against it.

Ripley looked down, "Adpol. We're in Adpol."

Joran slouched back slightly, mentally collecting himself one last time, before he looked down at his hands and the golden Dao next to him, "Fuck."