Valerie Klein left her husband and Francis behind, molding her wings as she set out for Sector Two. The high towers of One stretched up around her, and as she waved to children watching from their windows, her eyes began to glow.

“Where are you all?” She said to her own. Distinctly, she could feel that Elias wasn’t connected. She’d have to ask him about that later.

“I’m in One still.” Celine answered. “The prey is strangely active tonight. I’m overseeing their shepherding.”

“Same on One. Is the Crimson Prophet finally here?” She could hear Christoph’s grin.

“No, and you don’t need to worry about it. Your father shall address that problem.”

“Well, there goes my fun for tonight.”

“I’m almost done with my interrogation.” Brigid replied.

“Sounds like your fun is almost up too.” Christoph chuckled.

“Then I’ll ask you both to be on standby. There’s likely to be trouble in Sector Three tonight, be ready to gather the soldiers and answer prayers of help.”

“What’s about to happen that’s comparable to that crimson dude?”

“This is not a matter of fun, Christoph. It is one of survival.”

“Yeah. Sure." She heard that response too many times in his life. When this connection was broken he'd reach out to his attendants, handing the task over to them. Valerie sighed aloud but supposed that was fine. So long as the people they could save survived, she wouldn't hold this against him.

“Just remember to tune in to the sermon.” She stopped at the sector’s edge, taking a deep breath. “I feel that tonight will be a monumental one for the castle. The Book of Visions says this; The Decisive Day is not set in stone but weighs as if it is. On that day Cerulean shall be tested, and forever changed by the results. Spend each moment before it growing stronger, for when it comes the outcome shall determine the Castle’s future. Do not live in fear of failure, meet it and strive for success. Though it is night, I wonder if we have reached the Decisive Day.”

“Don’t worry, mom. Today will be all right. Look at all of us, you have the best kids in the castle. Do your sermon, we’ll be ready for anything.” She could almost hear Christoph sitting up straight. She smiled, lowering herself down.

“Thank you Christoph, and you two as well. I am grateful to have such magnificent children.”

⁘⁛⁘

Rashawn had to admit that he didn’t have a plan. He had the idea for one certainly; sneak into Two; get his answers and go. But as the slanted roof of the lab came into sight behind the trees, he realized his plan stopped there. His pace slowed as he thought over what would happen next. Would the place be guarded? If it wasn't, how did he get inside? He would love to say he had an access card waiting in his back pocket, but instead, he wished Peter was here to reshape the locks. He wished he learned how to pick them too. This plan was a few years in the making, and it felt like it would stop at the front door. He sighed and shrugged as he continued, coming to a stop a little faster than he expected.

In the courtyard, right behind a sign telling him what each building was, he found the remnants of a massacre. Bodies garbed in fatigues lay upon the ground, huge holes in their chest pooling blood into a pond. Every fiber of him said to turn back, but ahead the doors were torn off the building; this was his only chance. He put his hands on his head and fell behind a tree. A scale of options lay in front of him, its weight tipped to the fleeing side. He sighed again, crouching down. Part of it was to hide him in case the killers were still near, but another part wanted the chance to consider things.

"All right Rashawn, a bunch of guys layin' around. They got holes in their chests, got they hearts ripped out prolly. What's really the plan?" He murmured, and held his head again. "I don't know my guy. You want answers don'tcha? Better get ready to swing." He looked at his fist like he was looking at himself. "Man I'm really bouta go in there and die, ain't I?" Signs pointed at yes, but he stood either way. "I gotta stop talkin to myself, mans don't got any good ideas." He went on, sticking to the outside as he made his way around.

It wasn't that he was trying to count, but he thought there were about five hundred bodies between him and the entrance. Every last one of them was soldiers, and it looked like they put up a fight. He wanted to get a closer look; it seemed like some had been fighting among themselves. Machetes still sat where they fell, hacked into necks and sticking out of heads. He wondered what possessed them to do that, and as he stepped into the lab, he hoped it wasn't still nearby. A reception area welcomed him, the sign on its partition reminding him what each building was. A to the left was for energy, "Powering Cerulean." B was for Blessing, "Making you God's best version." C was where he wanted to go, Equipment ended the list in big blue letters, its tagline making him roll his eyes.

“For the Fight for what’s Good and Right.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. Maybe the researchers believed that, but the soldiers he saw earlier didn’t seem to fit the mold. He made sure no one was watching as he took the hall, moving fast but trying his best to mute his steps.

Despite the carnage outside, this place was untouched. He wondered why the door was ripped off yet the killers left no drop of blood. He wondered then if there were more people here than the killers. Maybe a soldier escaped the massacre by going inside? Maybe the door was ripped off to take him back to the rest of his friends. This seemed possible enough considering he didn’t know what happened, but the possibility died as he saw Equipment’s door. He paused, and almost cursed. That one was ripped off too; another weight fell in favor of running. He swallowed that, and maybe any common sense as he sneaked up to the door and peeked into the room. No monsters were around, but he did see two people at one of the stations. It was far enough back that he could slip further in, and he stuck to one side, getting just close enough to hear them.

“Do you think you guys saved my life?” The woman said casually. “I mean, with all those bodies out there, I could have died right?”

“Are you trying to make yourself feel better about bringing us into your home?” The guy said. Rashawn looked at him again, and couldn’t help lingering on his glass-like black armor.

“Not really. I mean maybe? Outside I felt like you guys were probably all right, but now that we’re here it’s like, ‘Micaela, did you just bring enemies into your home?’ You know?”

“Well, Micaela, did you?” The guy looked at the woman and Rashawn ducked. He was young, maybe the same age as him.

“The verdicts still out.” She sighed. Her partner went silent as the console in front of her beeped.

Rashawn peeked out again as blue light splashed on the walls. Across from the two, a glass container was glowing, a light within it swirling into a ball. The glowing only stopped when the thing became solid, and Micaela pressed a button to open a panel in the front.

“That’s how we make halos.”

The guy took it. “You were just putting values into the console right. What do they measure?”

“Variance Levels. It’s to maintain stability.”

“Why not automate it?”

“That’s what I never really got, but Francis says its because there are certain aspects that a computer can’t read.”

The guy nodded. “Yeah. You changed them even when it looked like it wasn’t necessary.”

“Really? Felt right.”

He held the marble up. “I thought this place would be like the Enclave, but I think I’m starting to understand how off I was.”

“Can I get filled in, or am I still on probation?”

“You said you came here when you were six, right?”

“Right!”

“Did you believe in God before you got here?”

“Yeah, my parents raised me to be religious.”

“And your how old now?”

“Twenty-four.”

“So you’ve been in Castle Cerulean for eighteen years. What was your life like before that?”

Micaela stared blankly at him. From his position, so did Rashawn. Maybe it was because he would have been one at the time, but this guy was no different. What was the significance of the question? As far as he knew, the only thing beyond that point was Darkness Day.

“I guess we did what we could to survive. I lost my parents on Darkness Day, but some people found and took care of me.”

“Can you remember how exactly?”

“If this counts against my probation, I gotta tell you it’s not fair. I don’t remember anything that stands out.”

“Not even avoiding the Grays?”

“Now that you mention it...I guess not.”

“You said Blue Bloods are people with a born connection to God’s Light?”

“Yeah.”

“So what does that make everyone else?”

“Normal…?”

“Micaela, what color was your Luminance before you went to Sector Two?”

Luminance? Rashawn found himself listening more intently.

“Luminance is...the light inside my soul, right? Without it, I’d be one of the Baleful. I’m guessing Blue.”

“But you’re not a Blue Blood.”

“They can naturally witness God’s Light, what you call Luster. Aren’t it and Luminance different?”

“Yes, but the Book of New Dawn confirms that your ability to perceive a Luster corresponds with the color of your Luminance. Then there’s the matter of the Halos. They form a connection to your God’s Luster, but your Blue Bloods can’t use them without training.”

“I’m not keeping up here. Maybe it’s ‘cause I don’t have that book.”

“You won’t find what I’m saying in the book.” He shook his head. “Micaela, I think there are two types of people in this place. The Blue Bloods—people who possess a Blue Luminance and thus are capable of seeing the Cerulean Luster. And then people like you, Grays that have been turned into Humans.”

“Wait...What? I told you we bring those things in and make them batteries. Are you saying I’m one too?” He nodded again. Despite her disbelief, there came a long pause. Rashawn felt like he knew where her mind was going. You didn’t see them often in Sector Four, but Loose Batteries were things that plagued the Castle. Transformed into terrifying mutants they skulked between the buildings, often at night, they attacked anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path. He had close calls with them himself, never sure how to avoid them. They seemed to appear out of nowhere, after all. Most people thought they escaped from somewhere underground, but from what Rashawn was hearing, there was a far simpler answer. “Holy crap… We are batteries. But for what?”

“That's one of the questions. What are you powering? And how did they transform you?”

Rashawn took this moment to reveal himself, making sure his hands were high in the air. That didn’t stop the guy in armor from spinning a glaive into existence, but he stayed his hand at least, though making it clear he wasn’t afraid to use it. Micaela’s eyes widened as she saw Rashawn’s face. The scar had that effect on people. It was like she saw a ghost.

“Rejects can enter Sector Two!” She gasped. He didn’t see why it would be impossible.

“Rejects...the people from Sector Four. Who are you?” The weapon dipped a bit—you can talk but I’ll gut you if you try anything funny.

"That's me! Names Rashawn." He walked closer but leaned against one of the consoles. From what he heard so far they could help him get some answers. "You're not from the Castle though. Who are you?”

Eyes narrowed, but the researcher whispered something in the stranger’s ear. He chewed on the words as he listened, then stood his weapon at his side. “My name is King.”

“I like it, very official.” He nodded.

“According to her, the fact that you’re on your feet means you’re more like me than like the rest of the people here. You revealed yourself without a weapon, so we don’t have to be enemies.”

Maybe he wouldn’t get gutted then. Great. They seemed like a smart pair; he wanted the chance to talk. “So I’m missing some details, but I got a theory about the battery part.”

“Great, ‘cause my next question was gonna be what the Rejects are if most of us are batteries.”

“Well, there used to be a Witch in my part of the castle who used a strange green light to help people. If I’m understanding what you’re saying about this Luster and Luminance stuff, I can say she’s a woman with a Green Luminance who had the power of a Green Luster. That’s a big deal, right?”

Micaela turned to King. “Considering I’ve only detected a Blue Luster with this Halo,” He lifted a marble in his other hand. “Yes. It’s a very big deal.”

“All right, so the soldiers came looking for her one day. She got away, but it was the only time I saw soldiers in Four when a battery wasn’t loose. They had to get rid of her.”

“How long ago was this?” Micaela asked.

“About six or seven years.”

“That’s around when the first Halos were developed!”

“And when New Dawn stopped operating.” King added.

The three of them were connecting dots. “So on the day they made things that detect other Luster, our Witch had to run away. Could that mean they wanted to get any non-Blue Luster out of the castle?”

“If King’s right, we’re batteries, which means there could have been Green ones and Blue ones!”

“Which then means that two different things could have been powered. Now, ask me what I saw on Blessing Day?”

“What was Blessing Day exactly?” King asked instead. Rashawn sighed, but Micaela answered.

“The first time the people of Cerulean were exposed to God’s light. That’s when all the Rejects were marked too. Blessing Day was the day God’s bounty was shared with the people. It’s the day people got their Craft from God.” She looked at Rashawn, “But I do want to know what happened.”

“Before I tell you, what does God look like?” He said.

She shrugged, “Old bearded dude on a throne.”

“Well I didn’t see that! I saw some deer-faced guy. When I told the Witch about it one time, she told me to start looking for religious books. I raided a forgotten bookstore and while some of those talked about the same God, some talked about different ones.”

The picture suddenly came together, and King held it up. “They had to get rid of the Witch because she meant there were two Gods in the castle.”

Micaela snapped her fingers. “That explains the Rejects! There wasn’t just two gods in the castle, there were Two types of Gods. Green ones and Blue ones. The Almighty Want has always described god as being the old dude, but Rashawn didn’t see that because Rejects see different Gods.”

“That's my theory." He liked these two. Talking to Peter had been great, but it felt like he could make strides here. "Maybe y'all can help me with something else. They came for the Witch, but they don't let us Rejects leave the Castle. What's up with that?"

“Here’s my guess,” King started. “Based on what you just said, people like Micaela are used to power the God of the Almighty Want. That means they provide something for the gods that the Blue Bloods can’t alone.” He paced for a moment, considering that. “Everyone in Three and Two has a job, right?” His audience nodded. “What if the higher-ups are trying to cleanse the Luster? Let all the bad parts flow into the Grays you use for batteries while the people provide a cleaner source in return. It’s not just about powering, but purifying.”

“So something like Blessing Day,” Micaela tapped the console. “Wasn’t actually when we got blessed, was it? I remember being here for eighteen years, and if you’re right, it’s because I was...what exactly? If I’m not a Gray but not actually a human, what am I?”

“I’m a Dark Disciple.” King placed a hand on his chest. “Dr. Gupta described people like me as those who remembered their humanity not through the light but through the darkness. I wonder if there’s more to that than Gupta or New Dawn knew, but going off of it, what if you’re the reverse? You remembered your humanity through the light, however, it wasn’t your light.”

“Does it make me the same person I’ve always been, or am I something pretending to be a person.”

“Still in the dark here myself, but, I think you’re you. I don’t know what makes a person become a loose battery, but for eighteen years, you haven’t. Maybe someone slips up somewhere and one of you Threes take the hit, but until then you’re living breathing people, doing what you want. If he’s a Dark Disciple, what if you’re like, a Radiant Acolyte.”

They all chuckled at that. It was a title that fit in well.

“Dark Disciple. Radiant Acolyte. And then a Reject, someone God marked as unwanted. If we acolytes use the Craft to help purify god’s power, could that mean that God doesn’t want the Rejects to have the Craft?” Micaela scanned them. It made King’s eyes fall to the halo.

“Has a Reject ever tried touching one?”

“As a Reject, I can tell you I didn’t know they existed.”

“Micaela, what happens when an unconditioned or untrained person touches one of these?”

“They become a loose battery. The Blue Bloods tend to be fine—they just need to be treated, but everyone else gets overwhelmed.”

King placed the halo down. “If that does happen, it’ll be a shame to kill you, Rashawn. I still want to check out the Blessing building, so could you wait till we leave to pick it up?”

Rashawn smirked. “No prob. I’m not gonna ask what y’all are doing here, but don’t go get killed. I feel like we got more to talk about.”

One last chuckle carried King and Micaela out of the room, leaving Rashawn to find the answer for himself. As he walked up to the halo, he thought about the Witch and the imprisonment of the Rejects. She wanted him to know there were more gods out there. He couldn’t figure out why she didn’t outright tell him, but maybe there was a purpose to the journey. Either way, he thought he could get why they were trapped. How bad would it be if a Reject left the castle, only to come back with another God's power? How bad would it be if all of the Rejects did that? Cerulean would never let that happen, and he thought it was hilarious that he would get that power on the inside. He picked up the halo and things flashed blue.

Blinding light faded to reveal a field of tall buildings stretching out in front of a terrace. He walked to its edge to get a look below, suddenly falling back as something shot to the sky. Above a Blue star burned, and as the thing drew closer it exploded apart. Most of its pieces broke into particles rising, but a heart plummeted, landing in another man's hand. Rashawn did a double-take; he wasn't out here before. The stranger looked mostly human, but for the blue body tattooed with unreadable markings. His lower half was strange on a second glance too—bare and translucent like the details had not yet been filled in. Noticing eyes upon him, he offered the heart to Rashawn. When it was waved back he took a bite, chewing happily.

“Who are you?” Rashawn asked, and scrunched his face. The words sounded normal, but the feel of them was...dense?

The man laughed. “Call me, The Crimson Prophet.” And then he cackled madly.

“Is that a name or a title?”

“It’s a joke. I’m not the Crimson Prophet, I just thought it’d be funny.” He bit into the heart again.

“Are you a God?”

The man shrugged, then wavered his hand. “You can call me Khalaf, if you’re looking for a name. As for what I am, you should ask the good doctor Francis Beaufort.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have access to guys like him.” Rashawn tapped the scar. Khalaf’s eyebrow raised.

“I don’t get the significance.”

“Have you seen a deer faced guy around here?”

Eyes widened. “Oh! I know what you are!” He finished the heart and floated over. “The deer’s dead, though he held out for a while. The old man’s a rough fight though. Ashes to ashes.”

“What am I?”

“They call you a Reject out there, don’t they?” Like the air was paper and his finger a pen, Khalaf started writing markings like his tattoos, beginning a circle around Rashawn. “They tell you God rejected you. Say stuff like, you’re unworthy of salvation.”

Rashawn smirked, “I never heard em say it, but I believe it.”

“What’s you’re name, kid?”

“Rashawn.”

“Rashawn you know we’re similar in a way. Not the same way, mind you, but the way this world has treated us. We didn’t change it to be like this, we were just born into it! But it hates us.” He gestured to the high rises. “Those people hate us.”

“Sounds like you felt that hate more than me.”

“I sure did. I wanted to be a hero, you know? People called me Legend. I wasn’t the guy who wiped out the monsters or saved all the lives, but I was always a guy in stories. I thought that meant something when the world got bad, like maybe I was meant to help it. But I was young and didn’t think about how the world getting bad is apart of some bad people’s plans.” He paused his circle. Rashawn wondered if he should step out. Despite the strangeness of the situation though, Khalaf had his ears. “I fell into power, and what I didn’t know is that bad people wanted me to. They had a plan for me. I was just a stepping stone for the world they wanted.”

“And Castle Cerulean is that world?”

Khalaf cackled. “No, no. Cerulean wants to be. They’re going to have some troubles tonight though.” He frowned. “Before Cerulean, there was another Blue place. They called themselves the Navy Tower. Everybody inside was a big deal, and were comfortably waiting for the world to get bad enough for them to clean up. Then someone made a terrible mistake. A certain doctor was so afraid of the color Crimson that he used Godly powers to make it so people couldn’t see that color anymore. He made it so they’d see Blue instead, but that doctor, he didn’t really get how that works.”

“Godly power isn’t simple to use, huh?”

“It is if you’re the right person for it! But the doctor wasn’t. He did what he could, saying no more Crimson Prophets. He didn’t think about what made them prophets though.” He had one mark remaining to close the circle. Rashawn looked at him, and he smiled.

“Am I a prophet?”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“What’s this circle?”

“Math. What happens when power comes from here, and power comes from there. What does it all add up to. What’s the answer to the question?”

“What’s the question?”

“For me? How do I get Dr. Francis Beaufort back! But for you, Rashawn? How do we make you the best version of yourself?”

“This gonna hurt?”

“I asked the same question once! They told me no, but the way life goes, yes Rashawn, inevitably it will. This time though, not so much.” He balanced the last mark on his finger. “It’ll give you a fright though.” He pressed it into place and the markings swirled, spinning into a blue ring.

One moment Rashawn’s feet came off the ground and the next he shot into the air. Below, Khalaf waved him off, and his flight ended as he was flung high above Cerulean…