It all started when humanity wondered what the Luster was. Some thousand, or maybe millions of years ago—some amount of time Micaela couldn't conceive—someone with more questions than they'd ever find answers, looked upon the strange light and asked themselves what it was they saw. Others followed, here and there in the corners of the world, surrounded by lights of different colors—seeds of wisdom they only had to sow. Someone asked what the Luster was, and the strange lights said back, “Whatever you want me to be.”

That wasn’t quite right but they might as well have been the words. Luster was the parent that always had an answer to the how and why. It could always fulfill young dreams. So, why wouldn’t humanity become desperate when they heard it no more? Why wouldn’t her kind—more ignorant than she could measure—not think they had to beg for forgiveness? Of course humanity turned Luster into gods, there had to be someone they could appease. There had to be someone they could offer to, someone to whom a sacrifice was gold.

Luster was that and so much more, and to even explain she had to ask.

“So…what’s next?”

“How about we start with what you learned from that little experience?” Khalaf offered, and Micaela let out a long sigh.

“Where do I even start!” She said at full volume, throwing her hands above her head. “It was insane, undeniably insane, and that was the scariest thing I’ve ever dealt with. If you’re telling me Adale isn’t as powerful as the eternal dude, then I’m telling you that I don’t want to fight him. That woman was something else entirely and you’re telling me there is worse!” She dragged her hands down her face.

“Ah, incomprehensible terror. I wonder how that feels.” Khalaf looked at King.

“Beyond all that, did you discern anything we could use?” The number asked, and Micaela huffed.

“Yes. I think, but it's kind of crazy." All of it was crazy when she thought about it, not an ounce existed in the realm of the sane. "Luster is Light, right? Except no, it's not." She shook her head frantically. "It's actually a god, right? Except that's not it either!" She threw her hands up exhaustively. “All right, then it must be the undead memory of the first society! Knowledge. Lessons. The memory of teachers! Etc, so forth, yeah?” She offered her hands emphatically.

“It’s all of that.” King replied.

“It’s all of that!” She shouted again. “It’s all of that and more. It’s light and light is energy. Energy is matter. And matter is everything!” She held her head. “And that means Luster is everything, it’s just about how you use it.” How could one thing be everything? How could she sum that up in a way that made sense? Suddenly, it struck her, and Micaela covered her mouth. “Oh my god, it’s magic.”

Khalaf cackled. “Ah, the other shoe just dropped. Well, didn’t Clarke say sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic?”

“Who?”

“Magic?” King looked at them.

"Of course, you don't know what that is. It’s… It's…" In other words, another way to sum it up.

“It’s laughing in the face of impossibility.” Khalaf grinned as that seemed to work.

“A lot of physics goes into making a plane fly, or putting something in orbit around the world. It took our species a long time to get there, but if we still remembered the Luster, we would have known right away. It would have taught us to fly without planes, all centralized within ourselves. When people like the royal children sprout wings, they’re…” Micaela crossed her arms.

“Driving a car without knowing how all the pieces of it work.” Khalaf offered. Micaela nodded!

“So Refraction is a form of magic then?” King asked.

She shook her head, then wavered her hand. “No, but yes. It’s like lesson one. You have to know how to do things with your Luminance first. All the big stuff, like reviving people isn’t even the next lesson, it’s the next few decades of lessons.” She thought about that for a moment. “Let’s change up our terminology a bit too. Rather than rewriting the memory of life, let’s say Castle Cerulean reignited it, and Cerulean…” Micaela laughed. “They had to steal that knowledge from someone else.”

“From whom?”

“From the sister and the brother, maybe.” Khalaf nodded. “The girl from the lost land.”

“Right! That cool archer girl! The princess ripped my light out when she caught me, but the archer chick shot me and it all came back. I lost maybe a few seconds, and…” Micaela looked at King. “You basically did the same thing.” She looked at his chest piece, still an unfamiliar symbol. Her eyes hadn’t dwelt on it for too long before, but now something struck her. “That mark let’s you use a certain class of magic. Its like a Crest, automatically changing both Luster and Luminance to follow specific rules. Your armor changes your magic type! Its doing all the math for you. What was Luster to the Second Society?”

King followed her eyes. “Maybe a different form of magic. Fang’s shadows. The Umbra, corroding the light, turning us into god coffins so we could live again.” But then, what was Umbra? At this point, could he say he knew? Thinking about what he learned from Assassin and Fang, he made a guess. “Darkness is the absence of Light, right? Well what if that’s how Umbra works? It targets the darkness between the faults in a light and pulls it free.”

“Like being able to feel water in a ravine! That’s what you grab a hold of when you use the Umbra!” Micaela clapped.

“Better yet, it's like feeling all the erosion in a mountain and using it to shape the mountain. If we say Air is the absence of a Mountain, we can get a better idea. Or maybe, the ocean is the absence of land." Khalaf replied.

“That’s insane. You can scale that up to saying its the absence of everything. Umbra is the power of the Void!”

King wondered about his master and Queen Adale. Why would he need her light at all? “What did she say about it…” He stole her hard work. “Micaela, do you have any of Adale’s memories?”

The woman frowned, "Not like, clearly, but enough you know? I have her Luster now. I have her everything. I just have to ask…?"

“What was her plan against the God Eternal?”

Micaela’s eyes glowed as the knowledge filled her mind. She almost toppled over but caught herself on the wall. "She was going to reignite his light. Rather than kill him, she was going to take control. Everything that's touched by orange would be touched by blue. She was going to usurp him, like…” Did she even have an example?

"The Crimson Prophet." King did, remembering the little moments he had seen before. Starting in the penthouse with an overwhelmed Gray. Then the two blues, so eager for the power they didn't even question turning purple. The Crimson Prophet was growing in imitation of god’s plan. Or maybe that was part of the plan?

⁘⁛⁘

“If you can read this line it is evident of the truth. The world has grown old and sickly, and some would rather it die than ever let it be something new. If you can read this line, you are chosen. I demand you kill this old and dying world.”

Above Corrosion and the weeping crowd, their multi-colored star was now completely crimson. The prayers rose harder, louder, sorrow too real for the words to escape, and with them came despair as the realization set in. Their god was not coming to save them. There would be no rapture, the worthy would not be spared. They were at the mercy of the Crimson Prophet, and they could see from their pastor's state that mercy was not on this beast's mind.

“God please! I have always been your loyal subject. How could you do this to me!” The man wailed.

“You have never served a God. You have never known a thing you think greater than yourself. You called upon beings with unfamiliar forms and long worshiped the blind and deaf idiot you fattened. You put Apathy on the throne, and now weep that it does not change!”

“To start. You must let go of that dying world. There are far more out there that you need to see. Leave that ruined place behind for now. Go to weaker worlds, and sharpen your fangs on them.”

“It has quickly become clear in your eyes that you have only witnessed one divine form. It has broken you; forced you to your knees. It has demanded your prayers and yet you still deny it’s dominion.”

“You are no god, Devil!”

“You do not know what devils are!”

A black wound opened above the star. It bled and breathes, letting in dark mist and trickles of viscous fluids. Four arms breached it, grabbing hold of the sky. They pulled a feathered body through to the other side, and it stood, its vulture face pointed down. Despair quickly turned to deep fear, and Corrosion turned the pastor to it.

“That is a devil. Dark as the night its power brings. You will find no light beyond it. You will only find me.”

The pastor's heart raced. His sweat ran cold. The crisis of faith in his mind was coming for his body. Every part of him cracked and came apart.

“Dying worlds always invite in rot. Uncleaned, they fester with illness. It is only when necrosis cannot be reversed that those who could save it would dare to try, suddenly shown that there is no other world waiting for them. In that moment they will seek god as a final answer, and as a god, I choose you.”

“Please… save me from this nightmare.”

Corrosion threw the pastor to the ground as it pressed its teeth together in a sneer. The gathering followed their leader’s plea and a beam shot from the star. It crashed into Corrosion’s palm, sparkling like a flare as the prophet clinched its fingers. It held as if the light would try to escape, and repeated words recounted from another’s memory.

“Luminance Forge.” A pulse ran up the stream, making the star undulate as it hit it. Pulsing back the other way, it brought the star with it, now a little bigger than Corrosion's head. "Luminance Arm." Another pulse and the star brightened, forcing the people to shield their eyes. "Luminance Amplify." The light twisted in on itself, forming a heart.

The pastor looked up with confusion and terror.

“Shining Heart: Beat.” And it did, the echo of it loud in the people’s minds. Corrosion took a bite.

A ring surrounded it, burning with unreadable glyphs. Threads grew out, puncturing its body, pulling away the light until only a Gray remained. The pale form looked wildly at the people around it, eyes frenzied, mouth opening to howl. The threads lanced into the chest piece, and the words fell from its lips. It watched with confusion as its hand rose to its chest. Crimson marked its palm like blood under the skin. The Gray gnashed, yet could draw no closer. Words not its own came from its mouth.

“Luminance Revive.”

The armor did not simply cover the Gray’s body, it became it, flesh and bone melting away, leaving a lithe black form. As if a flame was set to its back, light spread around its body, leaving everything but torso burning that deep red glow. Within its chest, the light erupted, imprisoned by a true rib cage. Horns ripped out through its forehead pulling along a skull mask to cover everything but its mouth. A true and terrifying grin waited below it; flaring eyes looked at its hands. It played with a spark on black fingers, then marveled at the muscles as it closed its fist. It had form. It had flesh. It remembered another excerpt from the book.

“I choose you not to tell them of my coming, for the birth of a prophet is prophecy itself. Your first breath shall put the Crimson Forecast in motion, reminding worlds that ghost lurk in old and decrepit places. You shall start this crimson tale anew, only remembering that you must bring destruction. The method is your to choose, but for now, simply follow these designs.”

The vulture leaped from the sky, landing with a boom in front of Corrosion. It looked at the prophet with vacuous eyes, turning its head to let one focus. It hissed like it was clearing its throat then spoke.

“What are you!” The voice was like an autumn wind, high-pitched and howling.

“I am Corrosion," It started, then marveled at its hands again. "The Crimson God of Salvation." It grinned, and the vulture turned its beak up.

“I am not needed here." It leaped back through the hole.

Silence fell over the arena, followed by roaring cheers as people jumped and rose from their seats. They hugged their neighbors; kissed their lovers, letting their hearts swell with a new lease on life. Corrosion watched and snapped its fingers. At once its audience stopped, each one turning red eyes forward. One by one the people morphed, taking on one of its different forms. The one from the penthouse. The one right after the purple girl died. The one that sacrificed the blues. The one that brought darkness to Castle Cerulean. None stood with an ounce of Corrosion's intelligence but wore its visage with absolute ease.

“Go. Devour this world.”

They roared and howled, leaping, flying, skittering from the arena. That just left the pastor and the brothers, and the sight they saw left eyes big and wide.

“Why! You said you were a God of Salvation!” The pastor cried.

“I am.” Corrosion looked at him. “But not for you. When this world has breathed its last breath, a new one shall take its place. An age beyond salvation can only be feed for the future.”

“You were a demon all along! I should have never turned from god.” The pastor truly wept this time, voice breaking as his chest heaved.

“You never knew god!” The younger brother barked.

“None of us did!” The older brother stomped over, grabbing the man by his collar. “If you knew god and did your job right, none of this would have happened! But you tried to kill us when we noticed something was wrong. You claimed to see sinners, but played blind to your own damn sins!”

“You two brought that thing here!” The pastor hissed. “If you just followed the teachings, none of this would have happened.”

The older brother's hand pulled back and the pastor braced himself for the hit. Before the fist could fly, however, Corrosion grabbed his arm. His fury switched to the former prophet, stopping only as he saw two twinkles at its fingers.

“Let us see who makes the better world.” Corrosion dropped one in his hand and another on the Pastor. The brother’s eyes turned red while the light seared the pastor’s chest. “But know that when this world grows sickly. The Crimson Prophets will return.”

“You’re not staying?” The older brother asked.

“No. Salvation is not needed here.”

"Then where?" The younger asked.

Corrosion’s finger rose to the sky, and as their eyes followed it, the Crimson God took flight…

⁘⁛⁘

Khalaf cackled. “I see! Then with what we've learned about the armor, we could say it's getting itself prepared. From the moment he found that book he has been at it? He’s been going from a Lustrous Lord to a god himself. Savior, huh?” Khalaf laughed again. “I suppose if you’re saving the world, it doesn’t matter how you go about it.”

“But how would he know any of the things we’ve learned?” Micaela shook her head. “It’s not like he was hanging out with us.”

“He wouldn’t have to. He’d just have to find someone who was with me. Right, Khalaf?” King looked at Micaela.

“This sounds like it’s counting against my probation, so I’m going to let you know right now that I didn’t tell that thing anything. I didn’t even meet it until we all linked up!”

“But you did meet his archer.” Khalaf offered. “And what stops magic that can reignite your life from reflecting what’s in the flame?”

“Oh my god! Are you saying she saved me just to get my memories?”

“Maybe not only for your memories, but they likely came in handy.” Khalaf snickered. Micaela moped.

"That's fine, Micaela." King shook his head. "If Corrosion can use the Luminance band to become a god then we know how far these things can take us. We have all the pieces we need to complete New Dawn's plans." He thought about Ace for a moment, and how he could still use the bands. "We might be able to push forward the Dark Disciple plan too." He smiled but thought of Fang. It took him back to his master, and why he might have needed the light.

Fang didn’t need to sacrifice her Luminance to use Umbra, she just had to be willing to throw the band away. She didn’t need the magic when her body was using it. So why would his master need the light?

“What if my master didn’t need Adale for power, but for the Spear of Hell? We know that it ripped the God Eternal apart, but what if it can do more? Gupta said that the spear was breaking even back when it first appeared.”

Khalaf nodded. “It definitely was. I remember pieces breaking off. People thought it'd destroy the buildings, but it didn't even leave rubble."

“What if New Dawn didn’t summon the spear the right way? Or just couldn’t?”

“So you think your master was trying to bring a new spear into the world?”

“Yes. And I think when we see it break we’re seeing the fall of devils. Gupta also said it, reignited the war of Heaven and Hell. With a poorly summoned spear we can’t win. Every devil that attempts and falls, takes a piece of the spear with it. The Calling wasn’t just for us disciples it was for…” King’s eyes widened.

Micaela nodded. “That matches up with some of Adale's memories actually. Seems like she made sure not to draw devilish attention, she made sure her people lived happily. She even seemed to know you were coming at a point. Heck, she knew when any soul was getting closer to her light." She paused as she noticed his face. "What is it?"

“It called for anything that could use the power of the Spear. Anyone who would match the might of the God Eternal. Wound him. Damage his light."

“What does that mean and why does it sound horrible?”

Suddenly, light poured in from cracks above their heads…

⁘⁛⁘

Just beneath the pointed tip of the Spear of Hell, Celine's disappointment fell upon Fang's body. She flipped her hair and crossed her arms; waiting for another trick, only wasting time. She turned back to the battery, thrashing against its restraint. She laughed as she drew closer.

“That was what mother was so worried about.” She thought of the woman—beloved but so foolish. “Both she and father hold us back. We could have already ascended if it weren’t for their hesitation. That Enclave needs to die, as do any enemies that remain in the city.” Memories of the Crimson Prophet played. She frowned. “This next age of Cerulean will be one of our dominance. I shall see what other knowledge Francis has, and put it in the right hands. I will push us forward toward the throne." She said defiantly as she returned to the gray.

“No!” It barked back, and she scowled.

“How funny it is that when you learn another word, its still one that infuriates me!”

“No!” The Gray wailed. Thrashing harder against her blades. She filled it with a few more to keep it still.

“That’s not defiance, but it’s still something new. What is wrong with you?” She glared at it.

Suddenly its body ignited with light, blue filling the muscle, almost making it translucent. Its face stretched and contorted, clay-like morphing between different heads. Celine counted more than 20, each one crying out the same word.

“No! No! No!” It wept and she understood.

“What are you afraid of!” She barked at the unstable thing, still fighting despite near-complete paralysis.

“No! No! No!” The Gray screamed.

The spear's tip cracked, letting an orange spotlight down. It was only for a moment, but the grays fear rose to its peak, the one repeated word becoming incomprehensible. The fear was even getting to her now, and she called out another rapier, deciding that this power would be enough. She stabbed forward and an orange hand caught it.

“Rejoice. For God has received your gift.” Another orange hand grew out of its back, grabbing the gray’s face, forcing it to keep one shape. It ripped the light away, taking Celine's swords with it as it molded a large blue ball. Reeling it back, its body ignited as the two touched.

An eruption of power pushed Celine back. She held her hands up against it, guiding her light into a shield. It became like a glass between her. The eruption of orange and blue whirled into a twister, funneling the power into one point. A figure was taking shape; body like a nebula with a head of flowing flames. Dust poured off it like an open robe, letting her see that the tall statuesque form standing a few inches off the floor. But didn’t Francis say something like this wouldn’t happen…

“You’re proposing that I use that tower as a conduit to charge a battery, and that it’s the best place to do so. But if it truly becomes a better vessel than our last one, won’t that summon constant demons to my location?”

“You have nothing to worry about. The darkness will act as a filter. If any demon comes they’ll be turned into light too.”

And yet…

With the same defiance from before, Celine addressed the figure.

“Who are you and how did you interrupt this ritual!” She demanded, and steaming eyes turned on her.

“I am the King of Kings. The God all pretenders strive to be. Long have I fought the forces of evil to return to my children. By striking this one down, you have given me a chance before their forces build anew.” He gestured at Fang’s still form. Celine smirked.

“Oh, that’s rich.” She chuckled. “Usually the ones that talk have some sort of bravado like that, but the line about the forces of evil? That’s new. And you elevate me to a worthy level because I struck down a foe. I am honored in your eyes!” She pulled rapiers from the ground, turning them toward him. “But alas, I have read of many pretenders in the Almighty Want. God will not forgive me for daring to turn away.”

“Yet you turn your sword on him now." The being boomed.

“I turn my sword on yet another pretender. You’ve taken what rightfully belongs to the Arbiter! I will have your life before I take it back.”

“Heresy! Repent or know eternal damnation.”

“You’re truly the worst demon I have ever met. Let’s make this quick. I have better things to do.”

With a thrust she started a rapier rain, flitting in as they fell fast enough to hide her. Another thrust drove toward his chest; the demon was surrounded, unable to dodge. She drove it in and her other blades followed. As she tried to pull it and a part of the demon away, she found her swords stuck fast. With a wave the demon sent her flying back. He pointed, pulling her rapiers from his body, raising them around her to turn the tables. To her horror, she couldn't take them back. She couldn't even summon more, with the demon's light bathing the ground.

“This isn’t possible!” She barked.

"Impossibility does not exist for God."

"I said that you're no god!"

The demon flashed forward, snatching her up by her neck. “I am the God above Gods. I am the Father of the world. You dare look upon me and still worship another?” She felt its fingers sizzling against her Luminance. “Yet your God does not save you now. Can you name another that will come to your aid?”

Celine couldn’t, but the darkness did.

"Through this Dark Burial old birth is discarded. For this rebirth, I pledge a new name. She is Empress and she is Fang, she shall reign above all in the next era. Her Devil name shall be, Empress Fang...”

A vortex swirled around the fallen number, her body sinking in. In an instance, Celine was forgotten, dropped to the floor as the swords rained the other way. They shredded against the vortex, starlight whirling in the air. All of a sudden, the darkness stopped, and a shadow could be seen just beneath the surface. With a giant sword, the orange being stabbed! Again the blade came apart, as the shadow transformed.

Wings and a tail grew out. Her arms stretched, wrapping in something that made her fingers look sharp. With a wave down her body, a skirt twisted around her legs. The still vortex cracked and broke, revealing, at last, the woman on the other side. Horns roses from the end of a tiara on, glittering blue while orange tinted her liquid skirt.

“Is this what Assassin felt before?" Fang wondered, feeling all the darkness of the city at once. The power was exhilarating, she felt unstoppable. But her memory wasn't so short that she'd underestimate her foe. "How long have you feared this power. Has it been as long as the Overcast set over this city."

“You abominable thing. Toy of forces beyond your understanding.”

“Toy?" Fang considered that. "No. You're definitely wrong. But I suppose I can't expect a god to know the difference between toys and children. What isn't a toy to you?"

“You stand before me with the arrogance of a fallen foe.”

“No, not arrogance. Belief. And by your fear I can see it is well placed.”

Celine couldn't even find words. This thing seemed hesitant to approach this girl. A girl that shouldn't even be alive. What was that voice that sounded like an announcement? What was this demon so certain it was a god? What was this situation, where she sat on her knees while a girl she already killed seemed like her only hope? Rage filled her, and she forced herself up.

“I will not be saved by an ally of dark forces.” She pulled a rapier together, holding it firmly.

"You're right. I won't save you because I cannot fight this fragment alone. I can feel it. It has long been torn from its other mass, trapped in the point of the spear. When I died… when any devil dies in this place, the spear grows a bit weaker. The God Eternal used that as its moment to escape.”

"The God Eternal!" Celine roared. This intruder couldn't be real. There was no god beyond the Cerulean Arbiter, but Celine would accept it as a king of demons.

“Even a heretic and a sinner cannot face my wrath alone, whether or not they stand together.”

“It’s fortunate that we’re not standing alone then. I can feel the darkness. I can feel the powers in it that long to turn against you.” A dark pool stretched out beneath her feet. “I call upon them now. Enemies of the Thief. Enemies of the Glutton. Enemies of the God Eternal come to me!” She called and the shadows rose into a black star at her hands. “And of course, I call upon those best fit to stand against it now.”

Upon King, who heard the announcement and saw a portal open before him. Upon Ace, who heard the same and quickly stepped in. Corrosion did not get a portal, but it followed her call, all the same, emerging into a room bright with orange as the others arrived as well.

“Ace, can I ask you to hold off for a moment.” Fang looked at him, with his eyes already drifting to his crimson target.

"Yeah. I can see we have other things to do." He forced his attention away.

Khalaf laughed. “Oh I did not expect this, but I have to say. I might just be ready.”

“I’m not!” Micaela shrieked. “I don’t suppose you’ll get me a ticket out of here.” Shadows rose around her.

“They’ll keep you protected.”

“Yay…”

"Are you ready King?" Fang looked at him.

“Yes, as ready as I can be.” He conjured a bow as Khalaf played with glyphs.

"And you, Corrosion?" Fang met the god's eyes.

“The way forward is through the flesh of this beast.” It said back, fingers becoming something bestial.

“Princess Celine?” Fang looked past the God Eternal to her.

The princess sneered as if both slapped and insulted. If she had her way she would take all of their lives! But she could see the truth plain as day and knew it mattered more that she see Cerulean again.

“I suppose you get what you want after all.” She sneered still.

The God Eternal’s voice boomed. “Behold these sinners staving back salvation! Your fall shall herald in the Kingdom of God…”

[Chapter 35 ends...]