Tinsurnae opened her eyes. Light poured down on her—not sunlight, not artificial glow, but something purer. Indifferent.
She sat up slowly, every movement accompanied by a sense of weightlessness, as though gravity itself wasn't sure if it still applied here. Around her, the terrain rippled and shifted—patches of rich brown grass blinked into violet fields, then back again, as if reality couldn't decide which palette it preferred. The horizon was absent altogether. White blankness stretched in all directions, infinite and oppressive.
Her breath caught. She remembered this place. Not perfectly, but enough. She had been here before. Though not like this. Not in this body.
Then her gaze caught something that made her blood freeze.
Herself.
Not a mirror or echo. Her other self sat across from her, legs crossed on the paradoxical ground, watching with a flat, unamused expression. Not Rhan, not her godform—her male form.
Tinsurnae's throat tightened.
The other her tilted his head. "Took you long enough."
"Took me long enough?" she echoed, voice brittle.
He gave a small, almost tired smile. "To become something slightly more."
"I'm trying, okay? It's hard. A lot of strong enemies showed up!"
He sighed, leaning back on his palms. "I know, I know. I didn't think that old Ranker would be so strong. Sorry about that. I can't see outside that well. But… I'm glad you're alive."
She twirled her foot in the strange shifting grass, lips tugging into a pout. "…Thanks."
His gaze sharpened. "What was that ability that cut your soul?"
Her head jerked. "Did it not affect you?"
"Nope." He smirked, infuriatingly casual.
Her stomach twisted. Of course. This was always the case. He was always outdoing her, always one step ahead. Like a twin who never stumbled, while she tripped over every stone. Sometimes she felt less like his equal and more like the forgotten third in a triplet set—Rhan being the firstborn, shining and untouchable.
"Come on," he said, patting the space beside him. "Sit. We gotta talk." He hesitated, as if listening to something she couldn't hear. "I have a feeling Rhan won't let me say too much, but I can still be some help."
She shuffled closer and, with a sigh, lowered her head into his lap. His hand rested lightly on her hair as she recounted everything—the chaos outside, the clashes, her failures and small victories. He listened in silence, then finally spoke when she asked what this place was.
"Basically a metaphor," he said. "But now… it feels more like a paradox. I'm unraveling. That's why I can't switch back anymore and forced to stay here."
Her chest ached. "That's not fair. You're supposed to—"
"You need to complete the other half."
Her breath caught, and she tilted her head up, green eyes locking onto his identical gaze. A mirrored loop.
"You know I can't!" She sat up sharply, tears burning her vision. "You're supposed to protect me. Like always! That's why you're strong! I can't even get the damn animals to work with me! You could've stood with North, with Calmbrand. Even Jack—Jack—might be a problem for me!"
Her hands shook as she pressed them to her chest. "I'm so weak I can't even use Sryun properly. I'm a burden. And you—" her voice broke—"you left me alone to be more!?"
Silence.
"And I'm sorry for that."
Her tears froze. "…What?!"
"For shielding you to the point you became inadequate." His tone was steady, but it cut deep. "But Rhan already went through this. There's no way around it. I'm Unraveling in here. I'm pretty sure Destiny and Jonathan are Unraveling out there. If this continues, we'll all become unstable—and collapse into ourselves."
Her throat tightened. "…Then what? I thought it just had us more in tune with our god selves. While also… well… destroying the area…"
"That's because you don't listen." He shook his head. "An Unraveling left unchecked eats the timeline until a King stops it."
Her heart skipped. "What?!!"
"Happened before, apparently. AllFather Laos was running an experiment. He contained and extinguished the unraveling easily. But that's the paradox of two of the same beings in the same timeline."
Her hands balled into fists. "So how do we get past that?"
"I already have." He smirked.
"Stop being an ass!"
He chuckled softly. "You have to be more. I thought Rhan was talking to me, but he was talking to you. I can't say how to become more… but rise above how you feel and clarity will come."
She wiped angrily at her eyes. "That isn't helpful at all! I'm trying to get around this death condition. And I'm even failing at that."
"That, I can give a hint with." He winked. "Focus on Sryun."
"And then what?"
He mimed zipping his lips.
"Why can't you help me!"
"Because individually we have to become whole. And for that to happen… the effort has to be fifty-fifty. Or else we collapse into ourselves."
Her chest heaved. "…I'm scared. I can actually die now. Which means you'll die too."
He rose and pulled her into a tight hug. His warmth was anchoring. "I believe in you. Just like I did when I believed your plan to get us out of that place."
She sniffled, half-laughing. "That ended with us getting thrown down a well."
He smirked. "And that allowed us to Ascend."
The way he said Ascend made her pause, before a tug pulled her backward, light peeling the paradox around her.
"Good luck. Seriously… please don't kill us." His laugh was thin, but real.
"I won't! I'll try my hardest. Love you! Try not to be bored—I'll get you out soon, I promise!"
And then she was gone, swallowed by the horizon.
———
Caroline repeated the strange word, her tongue stumbling but landing close enough.
"Good job," Mekiea said, voice calm.
"What does that mean?" She tried to ignore the faint flicker on her screen that showed the translation. Cheating didn't count as learning.
"Sandpaper."
"Sandpaper?"
He nodded once.
"That's so random, amigo."
"Amigo?"
"Right… you probably never met a Mexican before."
"Sadly I have not," Mekiea replied. "Though back to your first question—your hair. I asked the Blood Prince what color he would describe it."
Caroline's face went red. "Ohhh! Gahhh!!" She yanked at her hair in frustration. "Why would you do that?"
"Teaching with personal interest helps you remember better."
"Uh-huh. Next time, ask Sšurtinaui—since you pulled that little stunt."
"I'm an impatient being."
They had drifted so far from the lesson it almost didn't feel like one anymore. Mekiea moved closer, red hair slipping from beneath the blue-and-white wrap, his sigil-marked attire sharp against the lounge's warm glow. His eyes stayed closed, but Caroline swore she felt his gaze—like pressure, like dissection.
And she liked it.
Jack had given her attention, sure, but Jack was a boy. Mekiea was… anything but. She bit her lip and adjusted her robe—orange and white fabric shifting across her skin, the colors flattering her tone. If Sšurtinaui had been awake earlier, maybe she could've helped her pull together something more feminine, more delicate. Something dainty.
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She chuckled softly. If he was really blind, maybe this was for nothing. But still… it felt good to be looked at this way, even if those closed eyes never opened.
"So, Magjesti."
"Hmmm?" Caroline hummed, sipping at her tea through the silly straw with studied nonchalance.
"Question."
"You know…" She smirked. "You could've just asked it instead of building suspense."
Mekiea's smile was calm, almost unreadable. "What do you like about me? Moreso why do you like me?"
Her whole body jolted. "Woah—" She threw her hands up, leaning back in her chair like she'd been caught in a blast wave. "Direct, aren't we? We've hung out, what, a few days? Did a few lessons—"
But the way he looked at her, patient and steady, made her trail off. Heat rushed up her cheeks.
"Oh…. I misread the interaction. I'm sorry. We can—uh—continue the lesson." He dipped his head in a small bow, already pulling back.
"No!" Caroline slapped her palms against her face. God, this was awkward. Her UI could decipher encrypted runes and decode languages, but not this. Definitely not this. She peeked at him through her fingers, laughing nervously. "Sorry, that was weird. Ok. Well, um. Ok. Who even asks that?!"
Mekiea leaned forward. Not intruding, not demanding—just waiting. She froze. His presence was heavy but never suffocating, a question in itself. And when he moved closer, pulling her face toward his, she didn't resist.
His lips met hers. She leaned in, almost instinctively, and for a moment the air around them bloomed into something warm and silent. When they parted, he pressed a smaller kiss to her lips, a gentler seal on the moment.
He smiled at her. "You alright? You look like you're going to faint."
Caroline buried her face in her hands, words muffled.
"Hm?"
She peeked between her fingers, voice barely a whisper. "That was my first… first kiss." Her cheeks pulsed crimson, curse this avatar body and its endless emoting.
"Was it now?" Mekiea's smile deepened, calm but edged with satisfaction. "Glad I was the first to capture it. Surprising though."
"I talk a big game—leave me alone," Caroline whined, hiding behind her hands.
He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly over hers. "I know it's only been a few days, but death sits behind every door here. I enjoy our time together. And I'd like to further it once this mission is over, unless you and the Blood—"
"Ew, ew, no!" she cut in instantly. Just the thought made her wrinkle her nose. North had seen her naked without so much as a twitch of interest. He wasn't a brother, but definitely something close—a comrade. That ship had sailed.
"Me and North are just friends," she said firmly. "Closer than you'd expect, sure, but he's cool."
Mekiea nodded, relief easing into his posture. "Good. I don't think I could stand much if a prince wanted you as well."
Caroline snickered. "Oh, that boy couldn't handle me anyway."
They laughed together, her cheeks still warm. She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, copying something she'd seen anime girls do, hoping it looked cute. Yeah, that tracks.
"Hey, Mekiea…" she started.
"Ask your question in my language."
She groaned, then laughed. "Wow, okay." She cleared her throat, tongue stumbling through the blend of harsh consonants and lilting vowels. "Pourquoi liebst du mich?" The translation flickered on her UI: Why do you like me?
Mekiea chuckled. "Ah, this is what you called a Uno reverse."
Her grin split wide. "There you go—bingo!"
"Oh, like Jenga."
Caroline blinked, then tapped her chin. "You know what? You could find them in the same place." She smirked. "Sure."
Mekiea leaned forward, his voice slipping into the rolling cadence of his tongue—a strange harmony.
"Du bist Spaß, Magjesti. Deine Aura ist stark, lebendig—sie zieht mich an. Deine Witze bringen mich zum Lachen, und ich liebe eine Frau, die kämpft. Dass du eine Outlanderin bist, stört mich nicht. Ich will sehen, wohin das führt. Der Tod ist überall hier, also warum langsam machen? Aber bis die Mission endet, bleibt es professionell. Meine Göttin ist gütig, doch nicht gnädig."
Caroline's smirk faltered into a blush so deep she had to look away. Oh gee. She hadn't expected that—her brain lit up like firecrackers. To paraphrase: He didn't care she was an Outlander and he wanted to be professional until the mission was over, his goddess was kind but not merciful. That aside, he loved her aura, banter, and personality.
She just kissed him, and now he was throwing that at her? Her mind was blazing, thoughts spinning faster than she could catch.
The ship's intercom crackled. "Squad Pool Noodles, report to Hall Four, Section Five, Room Six."
Caroline blinked. "…Pool Noodles? Really?" And those numbers had to be deliberate.
Mekiea sighed, rising with a casual grace. "We'll continue this later." He bowed his head slightly. "Good lesson. I can't wait to speak again… later. Tonight."
Her heart thumped so hard she swore he could hear it. She watched him walk away, that damn smile still plastered across his face.
Tonight? she thought, flustered and fuming in equal measure. What the hell did he mean by tonight?!
———
North sat on the bottom deck, elbows resting on the cool railing. The Occulted Moon's vessel stretched above and below him like some impossible hybrid—half white submarine, half jumbo jet, stitched together with divinity and Ryun probably. Balconies jutted from its frame in nonsensical symmetry, every level boasting a place to stand, to breathe, to think.
It still threw him how massive it was. And how alive it felt.
Actually… what was the name of this ship?
Calling it "the ship" was starting to feel wrong. It had carried him through impossible skies, even given him peace when peace was rare. He owed it the respect of at least knowing its damn name.
North sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Great. Now I'm worried about offending a ship."
Ozzy's voice slithered through his head. It's love, North.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. No. Absolutely not. He wasn't entertaining that. Thinking about "loving" a ship just because Ozzy had wormed his lunacy into his skull? No. Never.
Still. He stared at the gleaming white hull curving above him. The ship almost seemed to hum back.
"Yeah, fine," he muttered. "I'll ask the name later. Don't… don't get mad at me in the meantime."
Shit. He really was losing it.
The ship thrummed beneath his feet, a low vibration that almost sounded smug.
North cupped his hands over his face. "Yeah, no. Nope. I don't care if this is some Jujisn bullshit—I'm not talking to a ship."
Hum.
"I can hum too," he muttered back.
Hum.
"Wait—if the ship's using Ryun, does that mean the Ryun—"
"Hey, North!"
He jolted, turning to see Caroline jogging across the deck, cloak bouncing, her face bright. She leaned over the railing and squinted at him.
"Who were you talking to?"
North sighed. "Either the ship or dead gods."
"What?"
"Yup."
"Is that… really important, or—"
He shrugged. "What's up?"
"Well now I'm—"
"It's fine. I'm just losing it. What's new?"
Caroline laughed, brushing her hair back. "I like how you did that. Anyway, random question."
North groaned. "Oh dear…"
"Shut up!" She swatted his arm. "Okay, have you dated before?"
He tilted his head, made a face. "Ahh, yeah. I have. Why, have you? Oh, sweet Caro—damn it, can't use that right now. Oh, Mag, I'm flattered."
She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, like I want one of the wonder psychos with a blood fetish."
They stared at each other for a beat.
"Ouch."
"You tried me first!" she shot back, laughing. "Anyway, off topic. Glad you have. I need help."
"Oh, with the red-haired guy," North said. "I lied to him and told him sandpaper is a color."
"Don't do that. That's mean and technically it is a color!" She tried to sound serious, but the smirk broke through.
"It's not a color."
"You can buy it at HomeDepo and Lowe's!"
"…..screw you…."
She smirked, motioning for them to get back on topic. "Ok, so if a guy says you'll have a conversation tonight, that means…" Caroline asked, voice dropping.
North didn't even hesitate. "He wanna fuck."
Her eyes flared. "Ok—don't be so vulgar."
He grinned. "He's gonna be very vulgar with you."
"Shut up!"
North laughed, shoulders shaking. "Or—he could just want to talk. I don't know, I don't know the guy much. He seems cool though."
Caroline sighed and leaned against the railing, eyes tracing the scarred horizon. The region below was a ruin—charred earth, twisted metal, scarlet cracks bleeding Ryun into the sky.
"We found love in a hopeless—" North started to sing.
She snapped a glare at him sharp enough to cut.
He only smiled.
Silence stretched between them until Caroline exhaled, eyes lowering. She told him everything: the lessons, the way Mekiea leaned in, the kiss that left her spinning(left out it being her first kiss.), the way her body reacted before her brain could catch up. North didn't interrupt—just listened, arms crossed until she finished.
"You should be honest with him," he said finally. "I've seen you together a lot. Just… say what you like about him. Since he already said it to you."
Caroline's arms wrapped around herself. She stared down at her reflection in the warped metal of the railing. "It's weird, though. This avatar—it doesn't feel like me. Not really. It's like… a shell I wear. Detaching from it made it easier to cope."
North's jaw tightened. Ozzy's voice echoed in his head: Do you love yourself? His hands curled into the railing until the metal bent with a squeal. The ship hummed beneath his grip.
"Sorry," he muttered.
"What?" Caroline asked, ears flicking.
"Nothing." He forced a breath, then looked at her. "Listen. You're great, Mag. And that version of you—the one stuck in the bed, waiting for someone else to decide what happens next? That's gone. Long gone. You're standing here now. You're living this. Don't cut yourself down before the world gets the chance to. Plus you can see where this goes… even if it's just a fling. Have fun."
Caroline blinked. Her throat worked, but no words came. For once, she didn't know how to talk back.
Wow. Wasn't expecting that," Caroline eventually muttered, lips twitching into a smile. "Everyone's direct today."
North chuckled softly. "Not to throw around death flags, but I get what red head means with it around the corner."
"Can you even die? I've seen you survive bullshit no one should."
"We all have," he said, shrugging. "So… ditto. But I'm serious. Stand proud."
"Thanks."
"I stole that last part from Sukana."
She barked out a laugh. "Wow. I never finished that manga."
"Oh? Why?"
Caroline stared at him flatly.
"Right," he said, sighing.
"So, wassup with you?" she pressed.
"No. Already had a—"
"No. No. No's."
"That's not how that works."
"Something's on your mind. Spill it."
"Wow, real convincing. Mekai's gonna have a problem—"
"It's Mekiea!" Caroline snapped, "And I'm serious… you know holding stuff back is dangerous. We still have the truth promise."
"Well, if we're doing promises, next time make it a pact or a vow. Holds more weight."
She just stared at him until he rubbed the back of his neck. "Ok, sorry. No more references." He leaned against the railing. "I feel insane."
"As usual."
His smirk faded. "Ozzy made me think. About my journey. About Jafar. I keep telling myself I'm different—but I'm still following his footprints."
Caroline tilted her head. "Wouldn't you have made some different moves by now. Tinny said you are of your gods but you are not them. So if Jafar was a conquest junkie… and you're not… I think that's pretty different."
"But that's the issue. Joining this event—that was already following the path. And everything since then has been situations that mirror his. One after another. And I… I joined willingly."
Her ears twitched. "I thought you didn't have a choice?"
North clenched the railing. "That's the thing. I'm not sure. But I remember actually wanting to join. To see if I could do it." His eyes lifted to meet hers. "I put myself on this path and then tried to jump off a dozen times, but I kept walking it anyway. That's why I feel lost, Mag. Lost and confused. Always back at square one—expecting a different answer, but getting the same thing by doing the same damn thing."
The metal groaned beneath his grip. Caroline didn't interrupt this time.
"But that's gonna change," North said firmly.
Caroline squinted at him. "Why?"
"Do you love someone." The question replayed in his mind, Ozzy's words digging like a splinter. North exhaled slowly. "I gotta see someone. Once I see her… I should be able to hash some things out."
"Why? And by 'her' you mean Destiny?"
Before he could answer, light flared at the doorway. Tabia stood framed in the threshold, her presence pulling the area taut. Her teal-and-white hair shimmered like living flame, streaked with violet and ember-light that shifted as if the strands themselves breathed. Crimson eyes glowed like fractured stars above skin etched with faint indigo markings. A crown of molten red coral rose from her brow. Her armor, a sculpted lattice of blue and silver, clung to her frame.
"Tinsurnae is awake," she said, her voice calm. "And she requests to speak with everyone."
North smiled faintly, almost in relief. "Great." He glanced back at Caroline. Nice talk, he mouthed as he strode forward, she quickly fell in at his side.
Caroline chuckled under her breath. "Probably news that's gonna suck."
North stopped, staring at her. His expression sharpened, humor drained from his tone. "Now why would you go and say that?"
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