Ceresta felt like she was living a dream. When she opened the door to the house, a wave of warmth washed over her.

But it wasn’t about temperature or comfort, nor the contrast with the night setting outside. It was the boundless amity she felt when she got to lay eyes on these people whom she had seen through nothing more than a digital stream until now.

The warm welcomes of Flavia and Evelyn, the friendly banter of Higure and Kara, the polite and gentle greetings of Marie, the boisterous cheers of Allan, the adorable acceptances of Pronos and Tyran, Akronis’ prideful laughs, and Natsu’s mature and serene reception.

And despite Kaelith jumping Rakna the moment he came into view, much to his chagrin, the vixen acted as if that action was a bonus and fully focused on her with a wide smile.

Nyx stood at the back a little, her face still retaining some amount of color, which the poor girl was desperately trying to get rid of. In embarrassment, she didn’t dare to get close to Rakna, but that didn’t mean she failed to express her own surprise and joy at Ceresta’s presence.

The dollish girl stood in the middle of it all and didn’t realize that at some point, she had started crying once again. Silently, this time, but much more meaningful to her blossoming soul.

* * *

Meanwhile, somewhere in the 700th Plateau, dubbed the Outer Land for its irrational terrain that never stopped changing elevations. As if a botched-up generation, the System had created a world demarcated by countless cliffs.

In one area, you could be standing on a meadow and be surrounded by walls of earth. They could be as tall as kilometers or as low as a few meters and there would always be completely different weathers or vegetation past each boundary.

These cliffs could go up and down at the same time from the same area. These areas were called the Lost Enclaves and in one of them, where rain poured endlessly and fogged the view, a strange castle was built out of white stone that incongruously never got wet despite the deluge.

Inside that large fortress, Roias walked through a corridor, occasionally stepping aside to give way to unworldly creatures; soulless and hushed. As small as a mouse, as big as an elephant; it didn’t matter. They roamed the castle, noiselessly and unresponsive to the presence of creatures other than themselves.

The Abyss Ruler was obviously accustomed to it, hence his thoughtless avoidances. Eventually, he reached a wide hall, surprisingly warm and well-decorated for the den of the Abyss Téra. At least, it was if one didn’t mind the monsters hanging from the ceiling like bats, or hiding under furniture and inside vases.

“Creepily homey, as always,” someone who was already in the hall before Roias spoke up; one very familiar Nine-Tailed Scorpion. Zasha grunted and rolled his shoulders as he brushed off one of the mindless Téra that had bumped into him.

“I’ll take that contradiction as praise,” Roias smirked.

“You do that,” the scorpion huffed and tossed out a small object that the Téras swiftly caught with one hand. “Everything about the wolf kid is in that talisman. His status and every step he took from the moment he entered the System. Oh, and he survived, by the way.”

Roias chuckled as he checked the weighty piece of paper in his hand. It was a sort of amulet used by exorcists, filled with an energy similar to mental force, but more driven.

“Of course, he would survive,” the Téras added. “I would be quite disappointed if he died from an attempt at matching me. It wouldn’t have been my fault; he would have killed himself with his own power. Quite a pathetic prospect.”

“Uh uh,” Zasha raised an eyebrow. “Well, you will be happy to know he’s stable. Whatever power he was losing control over, he got control of it. He got some help from that old woman in the First Plateau…” He paused. “…forgot her name.”

“Flegra,” Roias provided.

“Right, that. You wouldn’t believe what he did to do it though.”

“What is it?”

“He got frisky with the goddess he had with him and the foxes’ princess at the same time.”

Roias genuinely blinked in bewilderment at that before he eventually burst out laughing. “Hahaha, now this is something! Perhaps he should thank me for it,” he cackled. “However, I wonder, were you not found out spying on him? The Nine-Heavenly Flame cannot be fooled easily.”

“No way,” the scorpion waved his hand with a scoff. “Afnil personally undertook your request. He’s our best at that kind of job. I doubt even the Top 10 could sense him when he doesn’t want to.”

“Ah, yes, that famous elite of yours,” Roias nodded in understanding. “I now understand the reason for this talisman then,” he said whilst glancing at the strip of paper.

“Anyway,” Zasha crossed his arms. “What’s the plan? Because you didn’t kill the kid, the scorpions are in the crosshairs of the Clan and maybe even the Church and Basilica. At this rate, they’re going to turn on us.”

“Well, can you really complain?” The Téras retorted amused. “You did get your own Grafted. Isn’t that why you cooperated with us? You got what you wanted and our deal is over, why should we need to bother with your problems now?”

The scorpion clicked his tongue. “Really? That’s your angle? Just give us a push here; with all this attention on us, we won’t be able to take over the Clan with just the Grafted as we had planned. If the wolves get wind of us abducting their cub directly from the mouth of the fox heir, they might declare war on us first.”

Zasha sighed, “If we’re going to fall, then we might as well join you on whatever plan you have. At least, that’s what our Head decided.”

“Hm,” Roias mused. “Interesting. We could use extra firepower and talents… But are you sure? We will not be fighting just your little Clan; but the System itself.”

The scorpion raised an eyebrow at that.

“Are you willing to join a tougher fight in exchange for immediate survival?”

“…I’ll bring those words back to our Head,” Zasha replied succinctly and turned around, heading for the exit. Roias watched him leave through a large door and hummed to himself.

“So, he lived, huh?” He muttered and ripped the talisman. It promptly combusted and the resulting smoke swirled around his body for a short moment. He squinted his eyes as information flooded his mind. “How unique… is this his status after our fight? Beast Emperor… and Obsidian Star,” he whispered and smiled. “What interesting abilities…”

Right as he mumbled those words, a small vibration coursed through the entirety of the room and he immediately stood at attention. The Téra in the room stopped moving and immediately went to their knees, or the best alternatives some of them could perform.

“You battled our estranged cousin?”

A soft and feminine, yet haunting voice, echoed from everywhere and Roias smiled faintly.

“Yes, Empress. I am pleased to see that you have awoken without hindrance.”

“I have, indeed. The actions of the Broken Depths outside of Systemakva have roused me from my sleep.”

Roias frowned minutely. “Have the Phantasms attempted to harm you?”

“They wish they could. No, it is something else. Tormento, the Tenth Espectro, has been dissenting somewhat. He has alerted Father of the Broken Depths’ existence and ambition.”

The Abyss Ruler could only cock his head in confusion. He knew, of course, that the only being his Empress referred to as fondly and filially as ‘Father’ was Eternal Night himself.

“That does not sound right…” He held his chin. “Well-hidden this place may be, if the Kind Demon finds it before the Phantasms accomplish their goal, they won’t be able to survive his assault. What was Tormento thinking…?”

“Perhaps you are looking at this the wrong way.”

The Empress’ voice rumbled delicately.

“Systemakva is dying.”

“What…?” Roias’ eyes widened. “The System is about to die? What does that mean?”

“It is reaching the end of its lifespan. It is starting to produce more than what it can handle and thus approaching the limits of its conception. The Broken Depths should know this… but perhaps they have convinced themselves or concluded that everything would go as envisioned regardless.”

She paused talking for a moment and the lighting of the hall behaved unnaturally as if the sources of light were being moved… yet their physical manifestation remained still. Roias knew well that this was merely an effect of his Empress’ contemplation, like a regular facial expression.

“Tormento is the youngest of their Ten Espectros… and I have learned he was deeply involved with one of their Royalty and the sacrifice they made for their goal of Realm Synchronization. I would be inclined to believe he seeks Father’s measured assistance; holding a different degree of passion for their endeavor.”

“Then… we might come to fight against three factions at once,” Roias said dourly. “Do we still hold a chance against Eternal Night, The Broken Depths, and the residents of Systema?”

“Do not concern yourself over Father. If he finds a way to intrude into Systemakva, I shall be the one to confront him. We will take Eden for ourselves and I shall not accept failure, not even to him. The fruit is ripe and soon… we will pluck it.”

Roias smiled as he felt her words make the entire castle tremble. “I vow not to disappoint you, My Dear Empress. However, whatever shall we do with our newly reconnected kin? He might be quite a threat against us in the future from what I have seen. Should I go ahead and finish the deed?”

“Hmm… Our estranged cousin… Perhaps it is best not to pursue the ire of Father…”

The Abyss Empress whirred in an audible hint of wonder. A clear emotion was present in her tone when mentioning kindred beings. It appeared she held more for Arimane than a sardonic share of respect; it was closer to genuine recognition as if a true daughter to her parent.

“But, tell me, Roias, what is he like? I wish to learn more about our estranged kin.”

The Abyss Ruler smiled softly at his Empress’ honest curiosity. “As you wish,” he nodded and went on to recount his interactions with Rakna.