Another raven splatted, instantly evaporating into the air. Dallion had killed a dozen so far, yet still couldn’t find the source. As far as he was aware, the birds appeared out of nothing, always emerging in the one spot he wasn’t looking at. Combat splitting didn’t help, either—they would still fly in from behind each separate instance.

“It’ll be a long day if you keep doing that,” the crow said.

Against his better judgment, Dallion didn’t immediately kill it this time.

“I always knew you could be curious.” The creature cawed.

“I destroyed you,” Dallion said, still gripping two weapons.

“I cannot be destroyed. You destroyed a convergence of me, though not before I shared some of my thoughts with other aspects of myself. I lost a lot of memories, though not all.” The flapping intensified. “Definitely not all.”

The explanation sounded plausible. The void connected to many of the items and people it had corrupted through threads. What Dallion found difficult to believe was its presence on the island. If nothing else, the archbishop had purged everything to the last speck of dust of anything Star spawn and void creatures. There wasn’t a single crack or hole that wasn’t there by design. And yet, it was undeniable that this was a voidling taking the form of a grotesquely incomplete crow.

“Did he show you the prophecy trick?” the void asked, feathers melting off its body only for new ones to regrow. “I spent decades trying to figure out how he does it.”

“Why are you here?”

“Why are you here? Joining forces with a monster?”

Dallion thrust his harpsisword at the crow. The layer of water that had covered the blade shot forward, piercing the creation. Losing its integrity, the bird burst again.

“You’re testy today.” A new crow flew down from the sky.

“What do you know about monsters?”

“The same that any monster does—how to recognize them.” The crow cawed, amused. “You’re also on your way to becoming a monster, though you’re not there yet. Maybe if you had a bit of me in you, you’d have some predatory instinct. It usually takes otherworlders centuries to build it up. I’m merely a shortcut.”

“How noble of you.”

“It’s not me who came up with it. You can thank the Stars. I just improved the procedure, as they say.”

Dallion tightened his grip around the hilts. He would be justified splashing the new embodiment of the void once more, yet the only thing that would achieve was to give into the being’s provocation.

“How are you here?” Dallion asked, outwardly calm.

“Finally, the correct question.” The crow collapsed its wings into itself, distorting like a ferrofluid. “Have you ever wondered why no one has ever found this island? Sure, everyone knows it’s an island and they even know it’s in the ocean, but no one can reach it unless Simon allows.”

“A benefit of the archbishop’s abilities.” Dallion couldn’t make himself address the otherworlder by his first name.

“Wrong. It’s because of my abilities. A thin layer of void coating the domain bubble.”

“Any awakened would have sensed you.”

“Still missing the point.” The crow attempted to sigh. The resulting sounds sounded like a caw mixed with a cat’s hiss. “He’s not using void matter to make the island invisible. He’s using it to constantly move it throughout the void. Just like what dear Arthurows tried to do with Nerosal at the time.”

The incident was one of the most horrifying things Dallion had experienced back then. It was the first time he had glimpsed the wilderness as a sea of nothing, holding spheres of domains. Only later had he become aware that the wilderness was merely a tame copy of the void.

One had to admire the archbishop’s ingenuity. When he had said that the citadel contained all knowledge, that also included that of the forbidden variety. It was normal to expect that Earth tech principles would make their way there, but void matter manipulation? That was a bit too much.

An island in constant motion, surrounded by an invisible layer of void. No wonder only he could invite guests.

“All this is a bubble of illusion that is just a perfect cage in constant motion.” The crow attempted to approach Dallion, but a slight movement of the harpsisword quickly made it stop. “You’ve noticed that you can’t talk to anyone outside this realm? You can’t leave it, either.”

“If that’s true, how did you pass through?”

“Where there’s void, sooner or later cracks emerge. Simon knows it, but as long as I don’t do anything, he chooses to ignore it. He’s probably busy with his trance of seeing the fate of the world.” The bird cawed. “He asked you to kill the emperor, didn’t he?”

For no clear reason, Dallion tensed up.

“He did.” Human laughter mixed with the crow’s cawing. “How amusing. And you’d be the perfect idiot to fall for it.”

“And you’re here to help me, right?”

“Nothing has changed concerning me. I want to have some fun in this world before I inevitably consume it. The place will be a lot more interesting with you alive.”

“Why are you convinced I can’t defeat the emperor?”

“You think the emperor will kill you?” The crow flapped its wings, shedding feathers of black goo in the process. “You’re as much a danger to Simon as the emperor is. I’ve lost most of my memories of the time, but they used to be friends at one point. Then they were allies, and now enemies. Do you think that you’d be different?”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“I can show you.” A third wing emerged from the back of the crow, extending towards Dallion. “Don’t worry, I won’t try to corrupt you. I can’t even if I wanted to.”

“You think I’ll fall for that?”

“I’m sure that you will. I don’t see you as someone who’ll accept just getting killed off.” The void kept flapping in place, like a large, deformed black hummingbird. “You’ve peeked into memories before. This will be similar. The only difference will be that you’ll see the memory I wish.”

Even assuming that the void wouldn’t attempt to invade Dallion’s realm, letting it choosing what to show was dangerous. It could select exactly what it wanted to show, stripping it of any context. Dallion could see through the entity’s transparent attempt to turn him into a Star. The crow didn’t seem to be composed of more than a bucket of void matter, but there was a lot more where that came from. On the other hand, there was a way Dallion could take advantage of the situation. One thing rang true in the crow’s words—he didn’t fully trust the archbishop, either.

“Whatever Simon has in stall, he’ll kill both you and the emperor,” the crow cawed louder. “It wouldn’t be the first time. I, too, formed an alliance with him for the exact same purpose. Our arrangement was broken when I went after Adzorg’s wonderful device.”

The archbishop and the void working together? That was a lot more than using void matter; to actually ask a living embodiment of corruption and decay to kill off someone was inconceivable. Still, it would explain why the general was tolerated for so long. Dallion had never given the matter any thought in the past, but there was no way that the archbishop, if not the entire Order itself, was aware of the general’s true nature. The slaps on the wrist, the cultists’ infiltration within the Order, it could all have been the unfortunate cost of doing business, all for the greater good.

“Spark,” Dallion said out loud. His entire body was covered by a bright white glow.

The void crow pulled back, attempting to move quickly away from Dallion. Before it could, he flew forward at a speed far greater than the entity could have foreseen, grabbing its wing.

MEMORY FRAGMENT

A pitch-black rectangle appeared. A split second later, the memory flowed through. The void was right that it was a very different experience than any he’d had. For starters, Dallion didn’t experience the memory from the eyes of the owner—not that the void had eyes—but as a presence witnessing a scene.

There was no indication of time, but Dallion assumed that it was a few centuries before the present day. He could recognize the copyette ruins. That would become the foundation of Nerosal. There were few permanent buildings, all of them built with the sole purpose of housing troops and artifacts found on the site. The “general” was also there. His attire was very different, but there was no mistaking the arrogantly snobbish face.

“Does this stir up any memories?” he asked a fury a few steps away.

The fury had the appearance of a high-level mercenary, but both the general and Dallion’s presence could feel it being a copyette.

“The past is the past.” The other said in a deep voice. “The archbishop has sent me with an offer. You’ll be allowed to experience and amass a lot more memories as long as you do one simple task.”

“He sounds rather confident.” The general narrowed his eyes. “Overconfident, some might say.”

“Everything you’ve achieved could be taken away,” the fury went on. “You won’t be killed, but you’ll lose your source of enjoyment.”

The comment made an emotion flicker within the void entity—anger, jealousy, even fear. Like a child threatened with having his favorite toy snatched away, the general stepped to the side, thousands of void tendrils filling the space between his skin and his clothes.

“If you attack me, you’ll seriously wound me, but you’ll reveal your nature,” the copyette said calmly. “That won’t be much of an issue, because you’ll kill everyone at the dig, but attract the attention of an archduke, who’ll kill and purge you using spark attacks. You’re welcome to try, but the archbishop didn’t foresee you doing so.”

“Oh? What did he foresee?” the general remained at the ready.

“You’ll try to negotiate and demand terms, but ultimately, you’ll accept the offer. You’ll impose one condition, which is acceptable. In return, you’ll be given an additional demand.”

“Two can play at that game.” There was a note of maliciousness in the general’s voice. “I know where the grand citadel is located at all times. What makes Simon so certain that I won’t just share that with the rest of the world?”

The fury merely turned towards him, illustrating that he made his point.

“He can’t purge all of my memories. Even if he were to arrive here himself and kill me with a spark attack, some of my memories will survive and he can’t destroy all the void in the world.”

A tense moment of silence formed, broken only by the work in the excavation site below. The workers—low level awakened—were too far to hear the conversation and, in any event, had far more pressing worries, such as not being punished for slow progress. The site was supposed to have been fully excavated months ago, yet the more they dug up, the larger it became, as if there were a whole city buried underground.

“What does he want?” the general asked.

“You’re to kill the emperor.”

At those words, even the embodiment of the void looked around.

“That’s… quite the task. Given the results of the last encounter with the Star, what does Simon think I will achieve?”

“You’re resourceful, unlike the current stars. Achieve this and he’ll make sure that a healthy portion of your experiences are never lost.”

“Tempting, but I’ll need to add one clarification. This isn’t to be a short-term goal. I’ll need time to put him in a position in which I could achieve the deed.”

“Accepted.”

The general blinked several times, then his smile widened to almost inhuman proportions.

“He actually prophesied this? I almost feel special.”

“In return, you’re to send him a Moonstone every year.”

“A Moonstone? He really has a lot of demands, doesn’t he?”

“The archbishop trusts you’re resourceful and in the spirit of cooperation has already provided some starting resources. You’re the proud owner of a substantial piece of land in this area, approved by the archduke himself. When this becomes a city, that will amount to a lot.”

“So, this will become a city.” The general looked around.

“A city will provide a lot of interesting memories and new experiences. Just don’t try to betray him.”

“Of course. Who am I to fight someone who sees the future?” The general laughed. “Besides, we want the same thing.” He looked back at the massive excavation site. “A world to provide amusement.”

The memory abruptly ended as the form of the void crow evaporated, consumed by Dallion’s spark. The void entity had certainly retained all its previous memories, but there was a good chance that this latest conversation had been purged away.

Dallion looked back down. From this distance, the island was the size of a pebble. In less than a day, the archbishop’s plans to eliminate Emperor Tamin would be complete. If Dallion were to stay, he’d be part of them—likely the distraction to occupy the ruler while both of them were killed. With all the training invested in him, Dallion was certain that the plan had always been to fight him and the emperor, but he also remembered something Cleric had mentioned years ago. Two powers in the world had the knowledge of rockets: the Imperial House and the Order of the Seven Moons.

The archbishop didn’t need to take over the imperial capital, all he needed was to glass it out of existence with the emperor in it.