~~~

“I found my window wide open when I returned to the real world," recounted Zayza. "Oflenur was gone.”

At last, Lammy noticed Raznizu had given up on encouraging her to speak only through the communication magic. He simply watched and listened.

Lammy did the same, his body numb from such a long time stationary on the harsh stone floor of his cell. He couldn’t avert his attention enough to even shift his weight as his companion poured out the trauma she’d kept hidden all this time.

But despite the heartache of her words, Zayza spoke with acceptance. They’d spent months running from these consequences together, fending off the reality of it. At times, Lammy had even hoped she wouldn’t recover all of her memories.

But while her fear and pain were still real, now even more than ever, resolve dominated her voice.

“I was going to confess to Oflenur what I’d done, but he must have pieced it together. I never saw him again,” she said. “I promised my family I’d stay strong. Layla, I promised you I’d come back and save you…”

“Zayza…” Layla uttered.

“…But when Oflenur left me behind, when he finally gave up on me as he should have long before, it was my final breaking point. I lost nearly everything, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped. I remember ripping the black flower out of my dress, and then everything after was a blur,” Zayza shared.

“I must have found a warp orb in my room with enough magic left in it. I left the Lanmuraarch Reality, then Fantasy Country altogether. All I wanted was to get away from everything, to forget it all,” she said. “I warped for days until there was no magic left. I remember collapsing from exhaustion somewhere in No Man’s Land…then in the Dream World, in a fit, I cast away all of my memories.”

She shook her head. “But I awoke confused. So I returned to the Dream World and immediately began trying to rediscover them. Days blended together in No Man’s Land…I wandered aimlessly…until eventually, one day…”

Her eyes fell to Lammy.

“I found you there,” he finished for her.

Zayza nodded.

At last, her two worlds: that of a tragic princess, and that of a mysterious adventurer with Lammy, had connected.

There was no mystery anymore: this was who Zayza was.

“I’m sorry,” Zayza uttered. “To all of you.”

Lammy stiffened uneasily. Clearly, Zayza’s last words had been directed to someone other than just them. Her head turned to the bars of her cell door.

I knew there must be a reason she spoke out loud, Lammy thought. Someone’s been listening.

“I admit…I thought coming here to watch you rot in a cage would make me feel closure,” came an eerily smooth voice. “I thought…seeing your pain would solve mine. But now, it just hurts more.”

Through the communication magic, Lammy could faintly see a face approach Zayza’s cell door. Hands clutched onto the bars.

Fewpar.

He was no longer clawing at his neck, covered in decorative scars from Najinzu to elevate his Dreamer strength against Zayza. He simply stared at the ground, hands on the cell door loosely.

“This was all I ever wanted: for you to end up here—for me to help put you here. And then, for you to die,” he told Zayza. “You were my only way to mourn Vayva. I thought killing you, making you suffer, would fill my emptiness from losing her. I obsessed over it. I thought that was justice. I thought that was closure. But as I chased you across half the Multiverse, as I tortured you, it just stung more.”

He finally lifted his head to meet her eyes.

“And now here you are, right where I wanted you,” he said. “And it turns out the very woman I’ve been hating all this time…had only been trying to save my Vayva?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t bring her back, Fewpar,” muttered Zayza.

He released his grasp on the door and stood, backing away from the cell.

“I thought I finally avenged her. All I did was disgrace her, even after death, and hurt those she loved,” Fewpar choked. “But she was right about you, Zayza. You're devoted, just like her. And I am a failure for not seeing that until now.”

The frayed Dreamer turned his back, and began his way down the hall.

“We’re going to attempt escape,” Zayza called to him.

“Zayza, don’t!” Raznizu warned.

“No—what are you doing, sister?!” cried Layla.

But the words were already out. Fewpar stopped in place, but didn’t turn back around.

“At some point, these cell doors are enchanted to open on their own,” Zayza revealed. “We’ll begin our escape then. And we plan to bring Proscious’s treachery to an end.”

“Zayza…Proscious has full power now. He serves them; we don’t know if we can trust him,” Layla stressed.

“We can,” Zayza sent immediately.

Fewpar remained there for several more moments.

“I see,” was all he uttered. It was low, as if to himself.

Then he resumed his departure down the dark hall, leaving her in silence.

Zayza refaced the projection of her sister, quickly shifting from self-assurance to sheepishness.

“That was quite a bad idea,” Layla said, her head hanging.

Zayza shrugged and nodded. “Probably,” she admitted.

A man who had done nothing but attempt to capture and kill them now knew their most precious secret.

Lammy didn't even want to think about it.

He flinched when something echoed from outside his own cell. But it turned out to be merely a drip of water: nobody was in sight.

“Well…speaking of that,” he started, “just when will the enchantment kick in? It's been a pretty long time…”

“Unfortunately, I still can’t say,” came Layla’s reply. “But remain ready to move.”

Come to think of it, not a single member of Proscious had revisited them like Irma and Aoi since the Throne Room explosion. What exactly were they waiting for? If enough of them survived the blast enough to capture and imprison Layla, couldn’t they have resumed their interrogations and goals by now?

Lammy couldn’t help but wonder if something else—or even someone else—had gotten in their way and disrupted their plans yet again. Anything could be taking place outside this dungeon.

Could it be Deon? Or Hiroko and Kotono?

While tempting, he tried not to keep letting his hopes up too high. They couldn't afford to wait and hope for someone else to save them.

And while a delay in Proscious's reappearance put off further harm, it also increased the likelihood of their return happening at the same time as the cell gate enchantment kicking in: a worst-case scenario.

Lammy listened to the sound of his own breath. They were alive right now. He had to focus on that, as it was all he had.

He glanced over at Zayza’s projection again. Her story lingered in his thoughts: both the loss she endured, and the discoveries she found about Proscious’s murky ambitions.

They wanted to ‘rewrite the Multiverse,’ whatever that meant. And they clearly didn't care what lines they needed to cross.

"Those experiments…" he recalled. "Why haven't they tried to use Layla next?"

"From how it sounds," said Layla, "they will."

Zayza nodded. "They won't execute you, Layla…not yet. The process seems to take months to configure for a particular Dreamer. They haven’t completed it yet."

"So then, if my cell enchantment occurs soon enough…" Layla thought aloud.

"Then there's still a chance to save you…and stop their plans," finished Zayza with a nod.

Somehow, Lammy couldn’t help but smile.

“I guess the Ancient Sages were right about you, Zayza” he said.

She nodded solemnly, her stature sinking a bit in response. “Yes…They warned that staying with me would only lead you to darkness,” she recalled.

“Not that,” denied Lammy. “The earrings. Your true self has always been the same, even before you lost all your memories. You've always tried to protect the people you care about, even before we met."

"Though…every time thus far," Zayza said soberly, "I've failed."

Layla looked between them in puzzlement. “Ancient…what?” But she dismissed it decidedly, knowing an elaboration could wait. She could at least follow Lammy's sentiment, and she had a point to make clear: “No, sister. It's not over yet. You haven't failed us: Proscious hasn’t won, and that's all because of you."

All eyes turned to the young Queen. Zayza's shimmered.

"You're not alone in this anymore," Layla said. "So let's finish what you started. Let's rise against them.”

~~~

Deon's eyes opened softly. Again, he felt at peace. Not a single trace of pain or soreness ailed his body anymore.

Wait.

Deon lunged to his feet, his head briefly swiping the top of this portable tent. Checking to the side, he found Skrili wasn't resting there anymore.

Morose daylight peered in from the thin tent opening.

Grumbling, Deon shoved forward and flung open the tent flap.

"WHY DIDN'T ANYONE WAKE–" he started.

Deon bumped into a familiar, much quieter figure. Skrili stood frozen in place, her hand still raised towards the tent as if she were about to open it.

"I was getting to that," she said plainly.

"Oh."

"A–actually," came Kotono’s voice slyly from behind, "she wanted to come make sure you were gonna be alright, even though I insisted you were healed."

Deon looked past Skrili to find Kotono, Hiroko, and Phillip sitting in a circle in the dark grass between two more tents (one he recognized as Skrili's). The gloomy Azvaylen skyline was in the distance, its castle looming like a ghost listening in.

"This is like the fifth time she's gone to check on you and sit by your side, whispering thing like–" Kotono rushed out before Hiroko inevitably covered her mouth.

"Alright, we met our picking-on-them quota for now. Land the plane," Hiroko chuckled.

Skrili's nose reddened. She lowered her hand from the tent awkwardly.

For a split moment, Deon's memory of their defeat replaced her. He saw her blood, and her twisted limbs against the unforgiving concrete.

But she stood before him now, perfectly alive.

"Um…I just…" Skrili struggled.

Deon reached out and pulled her into an embrace. She buried her face against him.

"Don't scare me," she whispered.

"What?! Look who's talking," Deon laughed. "Can you stop almost-dying so much?"

Sadness stabbed at his heart.

"Actually…" he said.

They separated, and Deon looked his teammate in the eyes.

"I should have had your back. That's my job. But…I let you down," he said. "I'm not powerful enough."

Before Skrili could reply, Hiroko stood intently.

"That's not your fault, Deon," she said pointedly. "These people…Proscious…their powers aren't right. They're stronger than anyone even Kotono and I have fought in Championships. What they do should be impossible–especially that man Wei."

"We don't even stand a chance like this," muttered Phillip, his eyes on the ground.

Deon returned his gaze to Hiroko for a sense of hope. As one of the two strongest among them, she would deny that statement if it weren't true.

But his heart sunk when she simply nodded.

"We don't," she said. "Not without a strategy."

Wrong eyes, Deon thought. While Skip's warnings seemed odd and vague at the time, now, they were blatantly obvious.

He was talking about Proscious.

He knew something.

“If anything goes wrong, reach out about it. Especially if…those wrong eyes find you," he'd said.

Deon immediately scanned across their humble campsite.

"What are you doing?" Skrili wondered.

There it was: all of their travel bags were bunched together before one of the tents.

"Ah," he said, beginning his way over. "Sorry Hiroko, but I'm gonna need to break your rule. I need to use my TeamTrack."

Now before his bag, Deon reached down.

He yelped when a quick hand came from nowhere and slapped his away.

Hiroko appeared before him and blocked him off.

"What gives?!" he bellowed.

"You can't do that."

"But Skip can help us!"

"If you even just turn on your TeamTrack while we're here, the League can find out you're in Azvaylen," Hiroko said flatly. "And since my bodyguards–and the Fantasy Country Worldline–saw us leaving with you back in Fiction Country, they'll be able to deduce we're here, too. Then we'll all be screwed, and we won't be saving anyone."

Deon tensed. "Yeah, I get all that, but…Skip knows about Proscious. Without outright saying it, he was trying to warn us about them. I know it."

Hiroko crossed her arms. "Really? How can you be sure?"

"He got super worried when we told him about my extra powers," said Deon. "He made me swear nobody else would ever find out. Which I'm doing a lousy job with, because I told you guys…and now I think Proscious knows…"

"Then there was his teammate," Skrili added, stepping their way. "Skip said she kept getting attention from strange people until she suddenly disappeared years ago. She had unusual powers, too."

"This sounds like…" started Hiroko, turning back to Phillip. "...the way you said Pang disappeared."

Haunted by the thought, Phillip nodded. He finally stood to join them. "Skip reacted instantly when those strange men showed up at our Legend Training looking for us…His eyes went large–usually, nothing bothers him. He made us hide in his cabin, and he lied to them until they left. Deon's right: Skip knows about Proscious."

"I believe him, and any information or support would be incredible right now," Hiroko assured. "But…that's not the issue. It's that we can't afford to give away our location to the League. We're so close; we can't jeopardize our one chance."

The five consciousnesses stood in silence, their answers potentially just beyond arm's reach. But they couldn't step any closer.

Deon sighed and, fighting everything within him, backed down.

"Then…what do we do? They're way too strong," he said.

Hiroko began stretching her arms. "Nobody is too strong," she assured.

"The guy literally stopped the entire fight without moving," Deon reminded her. "And that's just him. Let's not even mention the two with multiple consciousness types. I kinda feel like they're too–"

"Trust me: nobody is too strong," Hiroko said pointedly. She turned from him and abruptly dropped to her hands and feet, beginning a series of one-handed push-ups.

"I'm a Predictor," she said. "My powers don't give me huge attacks or the ability to mess with physics. They just give me a head-start on reaction time. Fighting smart is what got me this far. It's the reason I can keep up with Kotono, and it's the reason we still have a chance. A small one, but…"

"But still a chance," Skrili agreed.

"Wei gave us two days to answer before he'll move forward with his plan," Hiroko reminded them, shifting to the other hand with a jump. "We used one to heal. We'll use the other to prepare."

Without a breath, she pushed up into a handstand, and then rolled forward flexibly to her feet. The tattooed fighter turned to face everyone.

"If you can give me your trust," she said, "I'll turn us into a five-person consciousnesses team."