The table shifted and in front of each of them appeared a hollow handprint, traces of a sigil emanating from it. Wait, this wasn’t the first time he’d seen something like this, Slava’s suit acted in the same way, was this Jack’s work? “It’s simple really,” Zach’s hand began to glow, dark grey films permeating the table. “You just need to let your domain seep through.” To his words, both Mag and Sasha followed. Slava was in a daze, but when he saw them move their hands, he also did the same.

His hand hadn’t even touched the surface, and he felt a tingle underneath his fingertips. He could feel another domain reaching toward him. But unlike all the others he’d experienced, it didn’t feel invasive. Instead, it felt… warm? Like a request or… an invitation. It was like an entity was asking him, “how much do you wish to give me, what are you willing to relinquish?”

“It’s simple,” he realized that he’d unwillingly closed his eyes, Mag’s voice now feeling distant. “Samantha is a chef that values… well… I’m sure you can feel it.” He knew exactly what she wanted, a piece of himself, of his domain. “That’s the payment, give what you’re willing to give, and the meal will be tailored to it.” An intriguing but fair trade. Was this why the network’s interface never showed the same amount of information? So an information-based economy, huh? Interesting… He smirked, opening his eyes.

Everyone has already finished. His hand was the only one left on the table and for some reason, Sasha was looking at him expectantly. When his hand finally left the table, it flashed in a light silver light before dimming back down. “So,” Slava slid his elbows onto the table, leaning forward, his hands hiding his expression, his eyes piercing through Mag’s. “You were told to answer our questions?” Mag momentarily shivered, answering hesitatingly, “yeah…” Hearing her answer, Slava sat back, taking a deep breath. “Good!” Sasha’s expectant face shifted to a questioning one. Slava paid her no heed, instead continuing, “what can you tell me about…”

Slowly rotating his palm, he revealed his black suit slithering around his skin. Mag stood stunned, unable to speak. “You turned the suit into liquid metal? It’s not even his nanites…” Zack’s eyes slightly glowed. “I don’t know what you’d want to know about the suits, but I’m afraid only Jack can answer that,” Mag finally answered, crossing her arms while shaking her head.

“Then can you tell us about this prophecy we keep hearing about?” Sasha chimed in. While it did pique his curiosity, he wasn’t too keen on hearing about it. It gave him shivers for some reason. There was also what Jack had said. He’d broken it, The Prophecy. It was no longer relevant. Well, some things might’ve changed, but Sasha was probably right to ask, they could still try to salvage it.

“Ah, with this we can help!” Zach brought his hands together, biting his tongue. “I’m actually surprised you don’t know about it.” He grabbed his chin. “I guess we can start with the words that started it all.” Slava’s ears perked up while Zach’s eyes shifted to his side. Receiving his gaze, Mag sighed, her eyes lighting up, she raised her head and a flurry of electrifying words came out of her mouth, both figuratively and literally.

“The child of the sky will descend,

Bringing an era of prosperity.

Riding the wave of destiny,

Guiding the children of humanity,

All to reach the story’s end.”

When the last of her echoing words disappeared from the air in front of them, it was Slava’s turn to be shocked. So it was the same one… the one Kolya spoke of… A prophecy older than he, older than him, one that was broken… because of him… He looked down at his empty palms.

“Honestly, this doesn’t give me much,” Sasha declared. “I still have no idea what it means.” She rose her hand in the air, a confused expression flashing across her face. Mag crossed her arms, looking away, seemingly irritated.

“Ha, well I was trying to make it feel mystical, but…” his eyes landed on a deeply thoughtful Slava. “Or did I succeed?” There was clearly still a hint of surprise on his face and for Slava who didn’t usually express much, this was…

When Slava realized they’d gone silent, he raised his head, a flurry of thoughts passing through it. Where did it come from? How did he break it? Should he… no, he’d tell her later, she didn’t seem to know, and with these kids here… “What? She asked a question, no?” Visibly uncomfortable with his gaze, Zach looked back at Sasha.

“Yeah, sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, the verse Mag just recited is the introduction to The Chosen One’s Record.” He stole a glance at Slava. “That’s what The Prophet calls it. She never gave it to us, but once in a while, she would send us excerpts through the network.” Slava didn’t hesitate. Hearing his words, his eyes began to move, countless words moving across scrolling past his vision. “Over the years they were compiled into what we call ‘The Fragments of The Chosen One’s Record’. It’s really vague and cryptic.” His eyes glowed slightly. “I think I can find something… Yeah.” Slava also found something, an excerpt, and as Zach started reading, his eyes followed.

Born from tragedy,

Reaching toward the sky,

From the East to the West,

The Chosen One travels without rest.

Burdened by the weight of fate,

Guided by Watcher’s light.

Stumbling, fight after fight,

Struggling to reach the height,

Where The Chosen One could take flight.

Carving a path, the world reshaped.

“I could go on, but I think you get the gist.” Zach stopped himself. “Basically, we are waiting for a messiah with a tragic past, that will fight and save us from ourselves.” He rolled his eyes. “What kind of idiot would do that, if you want something done, you should only rely on yourself.” Mag tried to slip into his monologue. “Zach,” she whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “I mean, how long are we gonna rely on an old fairy tale, we built all of this regardless of this stupid…” This time, Mag screamed. “Zach!” Shocked, he turned his head. Past Mag’s glare, he saw a set of three floating plates coming their way, the old man in tow.

The ornate plates complimented their surroundings perfectly, their red, white, and gold tones swirling across their surfaces. Albert, who was walking behind them, was as calm and composed as ever. When they finally reached the table, the plates each spread out. The first simply vanished, reappearing before Sasha. The second was surrounded by lightning, sizzling from all sides, slowly landing in front of Mag. The last plate was distorted, strange waves twisting around it. It landed before Zack, making his utensils shake.

“Dear guests, here are your meals,” Albert elegantly presented. “For the lady, Spaghetti a la Cosmica.” Sasha’s dish was probably the strangest of them all. A bowl of light purple spaghetti, surrounded by what he could only describe as a cosmic mist. Served with classic wooden chopsticks, it looked like nothing he’d ever seen before. “For the Miss, the usual Electrified Shrimp.” Mag’s sizzling dish looked to be a plate of electrified shrimp served on top of a white bed of rice, a grey cloud floating above it. “And for the Sir, something new, an Acefied Aggregate.” The last meal laying before Zach’s eyes didn’t look that appetizing. A plate of what looked like metallic spheres surrounded by smaller floating ones.

“What about his?” Sasha asked, pointing at the empty space in front of Slava. “Apologies, but this gentleman did not order anything.” Her gaze shifted and she began glaring at Slava. He knew it might be seen as discourteous, but it was a risk he was willing to take. This place was still foreign to him. He needed some time to assess it before he could consider such a trade. If there was something he valued more than anything it was this, the information he possessed, his awakening, his domain, his Sigil, the aspects of himself he’d worked so hard to build. Things which would allow him to return… Sasha was the only reason why he’d stayed. He didn’t know what would happen to this place if he succeeded in going back, so he wanted to make sure to leave without grievances, but if anyone got his hands on it before he did… No, he wouldn’t let that happen.

“I will disturb you no longer, have a nice meal!” Slightly bowing his head, Albert left. Slava was lost in thought and Sasha was still glaring him down. Seeing them, Mag awkwardly interjected, “Do you have any other questions? We can answer them while we eat.” While she seemed to be worried about them, Zach already had a bite in his mouth. Looking up, he saw Slava’s eyes looking straight at him and smiled awkwardly, a golden substance visible at the corner of his lips.

“No, let’s eat.” Sasha finally said, her eyes falling to her meal. Squinting, Slava just watched on as they ate. Even though Sasha had never eaten such a meal, she seemed to instinctively know how to consume it. Some parts she would eat, others, she would breathe in while the rest penetrated through her skin. It got him thinking, there was still so much he didn’t know. About this place, about himself, he had to know more, and right now, one person could answer all of it… Serena.