Blake stretched, leaning back against his seat, enjoying the change of pace. He had traversed Caprea's hallways in basically every way imaginable. He had walked, run, crawled, fallen, and at one point, been pulled through those corridors. Now Caprea was giving back and providing them with transport through the safer passages, heading in the direction they needed to go.

What she had come up with was, admittedly, the Leviathan equivalent of a golf cart.

The autonomous transport hummed along her corridors with a smooth ride and quiet efficiency. Adding to the absurdity of the vehicle was the surprisingly comfortable seating. It was an adaptive material that molded to Blake's body and was easily one of the most comfortable things he had ever sat on. Caprea had put it on a glorified luggage cart. He might have laughed if he hadn't gotten the sense that she might have been showing off a little for his benefit.

The transport took a corner without slowing, banking smoothly. To Blake's left was a transparent section of the corridor wall, offering him a glimpse into the massive chambers beyond. What he saw wasn't pretty, but it was familiar: pulsing, corrupted biomass giving off an unwholesome light. There was hope in the vista as well, however. Blake spotted tiny drones, each equipped with some sort of light-based weapon that seemed to be chipping away at the corruption. Without further help, that process might take days, even weeks, but it was good to see signs that Caprea was beginning to fight back.

They banked again, and the view was lost. Blake couldn't help but smile to himself. It had been a weird day—first, a pissing match between two celestial figures who could kill him with a thought. Then there was the embarrassment of the entire breakthrough about sacrifice and the value of his own existence. And now he was being ferried through the bowels of a living starship like a tourist at a theme park. It was worth journaling about.

"You're in a good mood," Kitt observed. Given the current lack of danger or anything essential to focus on, she opted to project her voice to him. While he'd grown accustomed to communicating mentally with her, he appreciated that she recognized his preference for speaking "normally."

"Why wouldn't I be?" He was, admittedly, still basking in the afterglow of earning Gnosis. "I cleared Rax out of my head, got myself a Pathbound ability that might actually let me hurt the bastard we're hunting, and I'm riding in style instead of hauling ass through hostile territory on foot."

"All valid reasons," Kitt agreed. "I'm just not used to you being... satisfied."

"Don't get used to it," he replied. "I'm certain I'll start moping again soon."

"Drama queen." The sense he got of Kitt rolling her eyes was so visceral that he might as well have been doing it himself. He laughed.

"You're one to talk," he countered. "When I started getting into it back there, I could feel how tense you were. What the hell did you think I was going to say?"

"I was worried you were going to say a lot of the things you ended up saying, dumbass," she replied. "You were whinging on about how you didn't want to live and how your Path was going to revolve around sacrificing yourself. I was worried I might have to move on short notice. It's only been a few weeks! I'm just starting to get comfortable in here."

"Ah," Blake replied. He was still smiling, but it had gone bittersweet despite Kitt's joking. "You know, it almost went that way. I lied when I said the system wouldn't let me push through on just the idea of self-sacrifice. I probably could have resolved everything days ago."

"Really? I'm glad you didn't, but why? I know how much you hated having to deal with Rax."

"Honestly, it didn't seem fair to you," he replied, still wearing his wistful smile. "I wasn't too worried about me, but it's like you said, you just moved in. Wouldn't be fair for me to plan on torching the place."

"Do you want to talk about it?" There was genuine curiosity in her tone. She didn't want to force him, and he appreciated that.

"I'm good," he replied. "Opened up enough for one day. I said what I needed to say and got the results I needed to get."

"Well, if you change your mind, I promise not to make fun of you too badly." He felt her acceptance ripple through their connection. They were bonded deeply enough that she'd know if he was actually spiraling rather than just setting a boundary.

The transport banked through another turn, and Blake caught sight of more cleanup drones working their way through a chamber. Small victories, one section at a time. He could relate.

The pair of them sat in a companionable silence for a while longer before Blake decided it was time to get back to work. The breakthrough was done, the emotional excavation complete. Now it was time to figure out how to use what he had gained from the entire ordeal. And more importantly, how he was going to use it to kill something that shouldn't exist.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

He called up his HUD and willed his notifications to the forefront. The system obliged, overlaying the information across his vision in clean, efficient text.

//------------------------------------------------/

Gravestone Integrated: Rax, Scrapyard Tyrant

Yours was a journey of both confrontation and acceptance. You have denied the overall Path walked by the Warlord, but have chosen to integrate portions of the gravestone left behind just the same. As such, a portion of the Warlord's gnosis, the understanding he achieved through his own journey, is now yours to draw upon. Having refined your own path in contrast to Rax's, you have earned an additional personal reward.

\\------------------\

Reward: Refined Gnosis - Cold Reading

This reward represents practical experience in gauging emotional states and interpreting interpersonal dynamics and social contexts. In life, the ability to perceive what others felt, even when they tried to conceal it, was vital to Rax. A portion of that skill is now yours.

\\------------------\

Reward: Personal Ability - Make it Mean Something

Sacrifice is a core principle of your Path. You understand that some victories require payment, and you are willing to make that transaction.

When attacking a target, you may designate the strike as a Sacrificial Strike by expending resources: mana, vital energy, spiritual capacity, physical capability, equipment durability, sensory acuity, memory, or even more abstract elements of self. The conceptual potency and raw power of a Sacrificial Strike scales sharply with the significance of what you offer.

The sacrifice need not be permanent. Resources that regenerate naturally—such as mana or stamina—will recover over time, though the system will impose debuffs simulating a more protracted loss. Other, less transient sacrifices may eventually be restored with commensurate effort, though debuffs from this ability may still apply that would impair such efforts.

Sacrifice through this ability should not be done lightly, as recovery is neither guaranteed nor swift.

Power can be bought, but it is never cheap.

//------------------------------------------------/

Blake dismissed the notification about the gravestone resolution and focused instead on the two rewards. He had mixed feelings about the first reward, knowing that it represented Rax's legacy.

"That Gnosis reward is pretty good," Kitt said, clearly unbothered by its provenance. "It wouldn't take you long to process, and you could probably work it directly into [Warden's Insight]. That's your bread and butter. You can't go wrong by improving it."

"Probably ideal," Blake agreed. Theoretically, the ability already offered him insights into those same areas, but integrating the Gnosis reward would undoubtedly improve upon the power. "I suppose this is the most benign thing I could have got from that bastard."

"There were less palatable options, that's for sure," she replied.

Blake minimized the Gnosis notification and read through the details of his new ability. Multiple times.

"That's a damn ugly power," Kitt said, breaking the silence. "We just finished talking about you not killing yourself, and here you go getting a power that lets you burn yourself up to hit things harder."

"At least it's optional," he offered.

"Sure, but we both know damn well you're going to use it!" She sounded more frustrated than angry. She didn't seem to expect Blake to respond either, instead just grumbling to herself about the system.

Blake read through the ability description one more time, paying particular attention to the scaling language. Scales sharply with the significance of what you offer. That was doing a lot of heavy lifting. The system wasn't giving him a damage formula or a neat progression table. It was telling him that the more it hurt to give something up, the harder it would hit.

That was grim. That being said…

"I'm going to have to," he said aloud, silencing Kitt's grousing. "Can't be a coincidence I got this now."

Inside his head, Kitt groaned. "Right? It's awfully convenient that you got this now, right as we were gearing up to bring the fight to the Outsider."

"Almost too perfect a fit," Blake agreed. "It's an attack, it's powerful, and it lines up perfectly with my path. Add it all up, and it's the best tool I've got to deal with the Outsider. I just know Aureon is out there laughing his ass off."

"I am thrilled that we have the tools we need to help Caprea. I just don't like thinking about what it might cost." Kitt sounded resigned. Blake didn't blame her.

"We've got some time to plan," Blake said. "We can decide together."

Kitt didn't reply immediately, but Blake could feel the warmth of her gratitude before she spoke. "Thanks for letting me be a part of it. You shouldn't have to decide all this alone."

"Don't get all sentimental on me, K," he replied. "Let's focus up. I've got the beginnings of a plan that you're going to hate."

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