The inside of the pyramid was made of void. Dallion found himself in a room ten by ten feet large, with nothing except a single ladder leading up. The moment he took a step away from the entrance, the doorway sealed up with void matter.

Don’t worry about that, Aether said. I’ll take care of the basic annoyances.

Why so supportive? Don’t you want me to release you?

Yep. You need to be alive to do that.

As Dallion walked to the ladder, the void moved away from his feet, creating a patch of uncorrupted floor. Just like the other buildings, the pyramid was made of sky steel. Tons of the material must have been used to create the entire complex—enough to make anyone rich.

“Never thought you’d have the guts to come here,” Arthurows’ voice echoed throughout the room. Dallion could almost see it resonate in every void surface. “After everything you’ve been through, do you really think you can take me?”

I got here, didn’t I? Dallion thought. Interestingly enough, there was no answer.

He can’t hear you, the aetherbird said in glee.

“I made it this far,” Dallion said, maintaining six instances at all times.

“Didn’t it feel a bit too easy? Oops, sorry. I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

The last statement made Dallion pause. It wasn’t because of what the Star had said, but because he could tell he was lying. In itself, that wasn’t a surprise. As long as the Star’s lips moved he was lying, but this time, Dallion could feel the lie. It was right there in Arthurows’ voice, along with a hint of fear. He was trying his best to mask it beneath the sensation of void, but despite all his efforts, it still bled through into the open. Was this another trick, or Dallion really stood a chance?

You’ve already staked out lives on that, Gen said in Dallion’s realm. Don’t mess it up now.

“Why don’t you come down here?” Dallion asked, adding overconfidence to his words.

“Still trying to use your music skills on me?” The Star laughed. “That’s amusing.”

“More amusing than this place?” Dallion persisted. “Do you want me to go through a maze of traps and enemies till I reach you?”

“Normally, yes. That’s how people get ahead in my cult. Only the skilled deserve to get higher.”

“Charming.”

“The Moons do the same. I don’t hear you complain about them. Only those able to defeat their own demons are allowed to move on to the next level. How’s that any different?”

“The Moon’s laws don’t let the higher levels do what they want.”

“Sure, they don’t. Can you return to Nerosal? The moment you get close, Countess Priscord will have you skewered on a pike and thrown in the river.”

That much was true. While instances of open violence weren’t too common, nobility had a lot of tools at their disposal to achieve the same effect. Using area guardians to place echoes within the inhabitants of their domains, rely on political power to ruin people’s lives in moments, erasing people’s memories and banishing them into the wilderness… even hiring lower level mercenaries just to kill their enemies without being subject to the Moon’s restrictions. Where there was a system, there was a way to circumvent it, all that was needed was time and practice.

“At least I’m honest about it. Everyone in the cult knows that the weak obey the strong. If you don’t like it, just become strong.”

“And the chainlings growing within them?” Dallion went to the ladder. The void that covered it trickled up and down, revealing sun gold.

“They’re still better than what they had before. This way they had a chance of making something of themselves, or die trying.”

One of Dallion’s instances climbed the ladder. Three seconds in, he split again and had another one continue off from where he started. Large distances were the best counter to splitting, especially with void matter all around.

A few feet from reaching the top, the ceiling opened up, creating a hole in the blackness that allowed Dallion to get to the second floor. Things would have been a lot easier if Lux had been here right now, or better if this were an awakened realm. Instead of relying on floors and ladders, Dallion would have just floated up.

You can still do that, Aether said, knowing his thoughts. I can teach you how to fly.

Ignoring the creature, Dallion leapt up with one of his instances. His foot never managed to touch the floor. Inches away, the blackness retreated, letting the instance drop through. Dallion didn’t wait to see what would follow, instantly switching to an instance of him still on the ladder.

“Ooops,” the Star said. “Sorry about that. Old habits. Only people wanting a promotion usually visit me and they should know better.”

Tell that to the clerics who you drained in front, Dallion thought.

Several more instances went up. At first, Dallion was left with the impression that the holes were randomly placed. The second floor, unlike the first, was in effect an actual maze with block-like corridors and walled off sections. No doubt this was the Star’s wicked sense of humor—everything was a trial that could lead to a quick death. It had been the same in the large buried pyramid in the fallen south. Only those with guts, or arrogance, were given a chance to gain more power. Out of them, only the ones with brains and skills were allowed to do so… or so it seemed. As Dallion found out, it was all a lie. There were no holes in the floor. The entire floor was a hole, through which rebars of sky steel crisscrossing through the void matter. It was all up to the Star who fell through a hole and who didn’t. In Dallion’s case, the sky steel bars were the only solid surface he could use. No matter where he moved, the void matter pulled away like tar. On the positive side, that meant he wasn’t restricted by the walls, either.

“How many floors must I go up?” Dallion asked.

“I thought you’d have learned by now. Eight, it’s always eight.”

Eight floors. Considering that only a select few cultists were allowed to reach the outside stairs of the complex, probably just a handful were able to get an audience with the Star himself.

Stay calm, Nox, Dallion thought.

The crackling had started to fret, running circles in its domain of Dallion’s realm. Even being level eight wasn’t enough to suppress the call of the void coming from all directions.

Focus on me, Dallion added.

That managed to do the trick. Black tendrils continued to point in all directions, emerging from the creature’s body, but the running had ceased.

Tapping the tip of his harpsisword in his leg, Dallion then filled it with spark and slashed through a nearby wall. A large cut formed, quickly vanishing like a splash in a pond.

“Any reason we’re not fighting?” Dallion asked. “Why have me climb all the way up?”

“Because I can make you do it? You’re the one who came to face me. When I went to you in the awakening dagger, I was the one who fought my way through the levels.”

The comment made Dallion freeze for a moment.

“This is an item?”

“Now you’re catching on.” Clapping echoed throughout the entire floor. “Losing that butterfly made you quite a bit stronger, but that’s nothing compared to what you could become. Just give me the skill stone and I’ll ignore our little misunderstanding.”

“So many eras and you have to rely on someone like me to give you what you want?”

“What can I say? Times have been hard.”

Dallion kept on walking. None of his instances suffered any surprise attacks. However, with each step, the entire maze structure of the floor changed. Back on Earth, the concept was known as a living labyrinth, with people moving the separators between sections. The changes weren’t enough to stop Dallion from progressing, but they blocked his view, preventing him from seeing the ladder to the next floor.

“I’ll give you Nerosal,” the Star offered.

Bargaining already? Dallion thought.

Don’t get full of yourself, Nil snapped. You’re not at the Star yet. You don’t even know how badly he’s hurt. It’s not impossible that his wound has fully healed.

If he was strong enough to break me, won’t he have done so? I ventured into his territory, so the Moons won’t—

There are more rules and restrictions that you know. You just don’t see them because of your limitations.

I thought otherworlders didn’t have any.

The Star has the power to distort matter, merge realms, and even swallow entire cities, plunging them into the void. Anything you can imagine, he can do. The only reason he doesn’t is the web of restrictions placed on him by the Moons. And he’s not the only one.

All the walls around Dallion flew in his direction without warning. Instinctively, his instances scattered in all directions. Unlike before, the walls didn’t vanish upon nearing him, crushing half of his instances on the spot.

“You know what, I changed my mind,” the Star said.

Void matter fell from the ceiling in blocks, splashing like chunks of melted wax. Puddles formed, which in turn transformed into large dog-like cutlings.

Dallion’s grip round the sword tightened. He had no issue dealing with cutlings, which meant that there had to be something more to it.

“Maybe you should play around a bit,” the Star continued.

The ceiling of the third floor fell down. The creatures that formed from it were twice larger, taking on the appearance of pumas. Rods of sky silver were everywhere, like a giant wireframe indicating where walls and floors were supposed to be. To no surprise, there was no ladder in sight.

Crackling crows emerged from all walls up to the fifth floor, filling the space, flying about like black smoke.

Holding his breath, Dallion spun around.

“Spark,” he whispered, doing a three-sixty line attack.

A strike with the strength to slice mountains went through cracklings and cutlings all round… stopping the moment it hit against the sky steel frame.

Damn it! This was the trap! When forged properly, the seven metals could become stronger than wood and stone. The pyramid was at the same time a cage and an arena. Star spawn could effortlessly go through the frame, since the creatures were nothing more than hardened liquid. Dallion, in contrast, was solid and had to fight within these limitations.

Point attacks would still be efficient, although a lot of them would be required to kill out everyone gathered. And even after he did, there were three more floors left.

Combining athletics and acrobatics, Dallion jumped onto the floor frame of the floor above, drawing the Nox dagger with his left hand as he did so. It was all going to be melee from here on, at least for him. The cracklings could easily launch ranged attacks unbothered by the frames. On the other hand, there were other abilities they didn’t have.

Dallion’s speed increased, causing afterimages to remain anytime he paused for more than half a second. His harpsisword almost glowed as it sliced through creature after creature. The common cracklings were far too slow to evade the attacks, getting purged out by the harpsisword or consumed by the Nox dagger. The larger ones were the issue, especially the cutlings. Over twenty of Dallion’s instances would regularly receive serious wounds just by touching the creatures. Twice he was in a situation where even combat splitting wasn’t able to save him from receiving a wound.

He’s copying me, Dallion thought. The crows and the animals, they’re just like the attack I did outside.

This would be the point at which Nil would jump in and explain that the world didn’t revolve around Dallion, and the likelihood of the Star copying him was about the same as saying that the Moons did so. Surprisingly, the old echo did no such thing.

Nil? Dallion asked while performing a multi-piercing attack on a puma cutling. The creature attempted to leap back out of reach, but the spark had killed it before it could do so.

I think you’re right, dear boy. The Star is copying you… and he’s just as reckless about it as you were.