He went on patrol the next day. Purification joined as an observer, but her assistance was not necessary. Indeed, she proved more hindrance than help with her constant questions.

"What is it you're doing with the miasma? Seriously. I always think of the stuff as a stain on reality. Gross. Icky. Not supposed to be there. You're doing something different. It's not even adjacent to my own method. Not a neighbor but maybe a house on the same block?"

"Spite is brittle," he said, not for the first time. "I'm shattering the spite of the miasma."

"I don't want to accuse you of talking nonsense, Hector, but that is an odd take."

"It's an insight, though…." So it couldn't be wrong and shouldn't be questioned, he meant. Sages received a lot of leeway when explaining their understandings. That professional courtesy didn't seem to apply to Xian with insights.

Fortunately, the patrol otherwise went as well as it possibly could. Hector kept the soldiers safe, letting them duck into the footprint of his domain to purge any taint at regular intervals. They killed monsters, then watched with glee as Hector burned the miasmic corpses out of existence. As if karma rewarded him for his good deeds, Hector returned with ten percent more in his energy reserves than when he'd left.

The Sage of Restoration evaluated the soldiers on their return and gave everyone a clean bill of health. She was positively thrilled at the new development and explained to Hector that she dreamed of a world where her services services weren't needed.

His work done for the day, Hector ate and retired to the bunker to exercise his apertures.

The next day was another test patrol, with another glowing review by both Purification and Restoration. Command declared that Hector was a permanent member of the daily patrols.

Then he was able to settle into a routine.

Training went rapidly. Soon Hector was able to reliably hold the Sweaty Fire Technique for half an hour at a time. He also worked his aura with the less impressive Reverse Priming Technique until he could barely use it. The annoying work with sensitization techniques continued as well.

Otherwise, he drew in chaos with his mental and domain apertures for hours every day. And returned to Union Central once a week to spend time with his friends. He received a portion of level nine kraken meat that was held for him at the cafe, proof that the System's recipe for industrial grade acid worked. Hector also consumed the rest of the pills he'd purchased at the Zing auction.

Those pills had dried into rock-like consistency, so consuming them was far from pleasant. They were still efficacious, though, so he didn't complain. It was really his own fault for not purchasing refrigerated storage. Union Central had technological amenities and extremely low rates of criminal activity, so there was no excuse for not taking better care of his resources.

Matthias eventually grew competent at manipulating chaos with his domain and began going out with Purification on special missions. Matthias and Purification took Restoration on trips to the civilian settlements, where they cleaned up the environment and healed anyone suffering from miasma sickness. They also were loaned out on occasion to other Strongholds.

Hector made a point of visiting Stronghold Alpha to check on the Users once a month. The kids had lost a few of their number and grown cautious. They greeted Hector with exaggerated respect every time he visited. What their form of respect lacked in formality it more than made up for in terms of compliments. They considered Hector borderline immortal after he'd survived a Bomb Spell jointly performed by a dozen of their number. The fact that afterward he'd been smashed by a giant monster corpse only to wipe its flesh from existence while waltzing around naked and ignoring every word spoken to him only cemented his legendary status in their minds.

Three months passed like that. Hector found himself caught up in a tentative optimism. However events in the greater multiverse might be going – no doubt spiraling ever downward, based on past experience – the things he was directly involved with seemed to be moving in the right direction. Deaths were way down on Stronghold Gamma. The Users on Stronghold Alpha hadn't been slaughtered. Zara's hunts were going well.

And his statistics were beginning to look impressive.

Survey Results

Type: Xian

Level: 7

Body: 6.4

Mind: 6.7

Aura: 5.1

Domain: 6.1

Energy Reserves: 86%

Of course, the rapid growth he enjoyed had tapered off already. Once a statistic reached the sixes, each tenth of a level cost drastically more to train than it had in the fives – six times more. The gains in his aura still continued at the same pace, though that was hardly rapid improvement. The Reverse Priming Technique was more advanced than the weak training methods taught to Volithur, but it was no great secret – it came from a technique manual whereas the best methods were never written down. And, of course, he wasn't able to cultivate chaos with his aura.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The game-changer making everything possible was the expansion of his insight. His strolls through the countryside with the patrols filled him with energy almost faster than he could invest it back into his aperture training. Combined with efficient training techniques and extreme energy purity, he felt like nothing was holding him back.

Maybe he could never survive a Tribulation, but Hector knew he could do a lot of good as a level nine miasma converter. Even if the multiverse was doomed to fail, as seemed likely, he could be content if his actions delayed the inevitable by a few years. With millions of worlds, on average hosting a few billion lives, one year extra would be the equivalent of adding a quadrillion extra years of cumulative human life. A number like that wasn't just a statistic to him. It was a metric of the good he could potentially put out into the multiverse.

Serving a worthy cause and growing stronger at the same time proved even more fulfilling than Hector would have imagined. The only thing during that time that caused him any concern was the general malaise that took hold of Darius. His friend had lost much of the bite that once defined his nature. What should have been a positive development instead rang alarm bells in Hector's mind.

The eunuch had not just stopped sniping incessantly at everyone around him, he had largely withdrawn from social interactions. When Hector asked how his painting was going, Darius revealed that he'd lost interest in the art form. He didn't even seem interested in his dungeon runs, claiming his funds were enough that he probably didn't need to ever work again.

So Hector went home one evening to speak to Riley about the change.

"I don't know what is wrong with him, Hector. He's tired all the time."

It took an act of willpower to not ask if her relationship with Siegfried could be to blame. Riley didn't deserve to have responsibility for the mental state of Darius placed upon her. She was a person in her own right who deserved the freedom to pursue her own happiness. Asking her to sacrifice that to help Darius wouldn't be healthy for anyone.

What worried Hector was what he'd suspected ever since they escaped from the tournament. Darius might be too broken to ever be saved. The man had survived thus far on spite and dreams of vengeance. But if there was one thing Hector knew about spite, it was how brittle that motivation could be. Apply stress at the wrong angle and it would shatter.

Absent his hate, what did Darius have to live for? Hector thought the man had a lot – friends and status and opportunity to grow stronger. But Hector's opinion didn't matter. Only Darius could decide the value of his own life.

Out of concern, Hector dragged Darius out to watch a movie about a quirky group of delvers who took down a monster that had been stalking the dungeon of Promise City for an entire year. The story was quite fictional, but the advertisement made a big deal that parts of it had been filmed on premise. Those parts were obviously outside the dungeon proper. Though the CGI was flawless, Hector could tell by the way the actors behaved that they weren't in a dangerous environment.

The movie hit like a forgettable summer blockbuster from back home. It didn't have any depth or even a political message Hector could detect, just a slavish devotion to combat and explosions. Darius slouched in his chair as if waiting for his punishment to end. Afterwards he didn't put up a fight when Hector suggested they walk the ten miles back to Tian Tower.

"You realize that you have been scaring us lately, don't you?"

"Am I so frightening to people who battle monsters?"

Hector decided not to be subtle in his approach. "Do you remember how upset you were with me when I got Riley captured on Tian? Right now you're making me and Riley feel the same way about you. My friend disappeared and you won't tell me how to get him back."

"I am right beside you, Hector. Calm down."

"But you're not."

Darius shrugged. "You want me to yell more? I am running low on anger."

"Less anger would be great if something was replacing it. Is this about Riley and Siegfried?"

"What? No, not that."

"Then what is it? Because to me that seems like the only explanation that makes sense."

The eunuch sighed. "I swore to reveal none of this information, but what do I care? Your comrade, that Master Dorian, sought to make amends."

Hector pulled Darius to a stop. "Make amends for what?"

Darius waved his hand vaguely. "I don't know exactly. Something about my father. I did not ask for details. He swore me to secrecy, claiming his life would be forfeit for sharing a family technique with an outsider."

"Dorian ruthlessly bullied your father at the fifth household," Hector said.

"I do not care what passed between them, Hector. Dorian offered me a technique to correct the deficiencies in my aura. It was only equivalent to level one despite my soul being at seven. I trained this technique a few times and discovered how truly powerful it is. It is called the Sandwich Technique."

Hector studied his friend. "That's good, right? You want to grow strong."

"For what reason? To throw myself away in a futile gesture?"

"You don't have to go after the Lord General."

"Yes, I do, Hector. I go after him or I give up. Those are the only options for me." Darius wiped tears from his eyes. "I will teach you the technique if you wish. It will be useful for you."

"Darius… there are other things to live for. Your situation doesn't prevent you from finding love and settling down. This isn't the best time in history to be having children, anyway."

"If I cared for someone, why would I ever try to be with them? Even if my mutilation could be overlooked, I would not make a woman happy. I would only torment her. As you've said before, I am my father's son."

Hector seized the man by both shoulders. "Darius, there were opportunities for Volithur to set down his hate and move on with his life. He chose not to. It's a choice. A matter of intent. Choose to be better, Darius. I know that sounds too simple to be true, but it's not. The hard part is that you can't just choose one time. You need to make that choice again and again – every day for the rest of your life. It's not hard to do if you want something, but you must be consistent."

Darius sighed. "You don't understand, Hector. The problem is that I don't want it. I wish I did, but deep down… it's not in me to want better. I either go after the Lord General, knowing what will come of my efforts, or I give up on life."

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