I sat there, confused beyond my mind.
It made no sense. Not the reasoning behind resurrecting a dead crystal-man, nor the logistics behind it.
Unless…
That had been her wish.
I already knew Dolos had a hand in Mom leaving us. And the remnants of my last conversation with Chronos confirmed that Dolos had granted three wishes to four different individuals. I’d already suspected the lineup was: Valdemar, Vorrick, Dalton Rose, and…Mom.
But still…why would she waste a wish on reviving someone who had been dead for more than seven centuries? So what if he’s the Founders’ son? Who cares?
It made absolutely no sense. I refused to believe it.
“Take this,” Vorrick said, handing over a thick, glossy, golden-colored card.
I took the card. It read:
House Transportation Writ of Passage
Code: VRK-43252
Bearer Status: Unrestricted
Authorization: Unrestricted
All services are to be rendered at the highest available class of travel, without delay, inspection, or inquiry, upon presentation of this writ
Issued under the authority of: Tanya Thornton, Prime Transportation
“I only ever got this card as a formality,” Vorrick added. “Everyone knows who I am.”
I stared at the card, then slowly lifted my eyes to him as I sent it to the Inventory.
- Casten Vorrick's House Transportation Writ of Passage
Another written object I could store. Though, I guess, this one was somewhat different. It was just a pass, after all.
“Will the code be enough?” I asked, making sure.
“Yes.” He nodded. “There’s only a handful of those in existence anyway.” He cleared his throat. “Your second request is granted. Happy? Any more questions?”
My thoughts were still circling the same confusing point.
“Why would she even do that?” I shook my head, still not believing what he’d said. “Why would my mother resurrect him?”
“I wish I knew,” Vorrick replied, his voice angry and bitter. “Unfortunately, the bitch died before I could find out.”
A surge of fury roared from within me.
“Don’t talk about my mother like that!” I snapped. “Especially not after you killed her!”
Vorrick rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. I was wondering if you’d blame me for that. The truth is – “
He stopped abruptly. His head jerked forward, eyes narrowing. “What the – ?“
I didn’t even need to follow his gaze to realize something was wrong.
Living in Orlinth my whole life, I wasn’t used to Skyhaven’s sunlight. And yet, its sudden absence was glaring. And if that wasn’t enough, then the approaching engine sounds were.
A vast shadow swallowed the entire road we were driving through. Citizens around gasped and pointed up in fear.
Only then did I look up.
A BrassEagle airship was descending toward us. Fast.
It wasn’t burning. No smoke. No signs of damage. This wasn’t an accident.
Someone was piloting it directly into a crash.
Vorrick yanked the emergency brakes, and the Porter Carriage screeched violently to a halt.
I activated Checkpoint immediately. But instead of the usual message, something else popped up.
[Checkpoint is unavailable]
“What the fuck…” I muttered wide-eyed. Then the realization settled – fucking Dolos!
Meanwhile, the airship overhead grew larger, the engines’ sounds turned louder. The people’s gasps turned into full blown screams as they began running away.
I was about to join them, but just as I was trying to get off the carriage, Vorrick’s hand clamped down on my shoulder and pushed me back.
“Wait,” he growled. “We’re not done yet.”
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“Not done?” I echoed, shaking my head. I jabbed a finger toward the descending airship. “I don’t know if it’s Valdemar’s doing, but we’re very done if we don’t get off this street right now.”
“Stay here,” Vorrick said flatly. “I’ll handle this.”
The contempt in his voice was unmistakable.
He leapt from the carriage and strode toward the nearest building—a seven-story apartment block. He pressed his palm against the wall.
Instantly, ice erupted from the point of contact.
Jagged frost surged upward, racing along the colorful stone wall. When it reached the roof, it bent unnaturally, spreading outward like a massive frozen arm reaching into the sky, aimed straight at the falling airship.
The moment the ice neared its target, it detonated into a black roiling cloud.
Umbrium.
The decay cloud spread across the airship’s hull, devouring metal, canvas, and structure alike. The vessel began to disintegrate midair, chunks tearing free and plummeting toward the street.
Before I could even brace for this rain of metal, the ice coating on the building erupted as well.
Another decay cloud burst outward, intercepting the falling debris and consuming it mid-descent. What little remained struck the street as mostly harmless fragments, skittering across the pavement.
The fleeing crowd—who already slowed down when they recognized Casten Vorrick—now fully stopped and began applauding.
But Vorrick didn’t acknowledge them. His gaze remained fixed upward—on a single piece his decay hadn’t destroyed. It fell faster than the rest. Much faster. A visible wake of displaced air streamed behind it.
Then came the whistle, and Déjà vu quickly followed.
Quickly, it came into view. Not an airship piece, but a man in an armored suit.
An Obsidian Crow.
Vorrick moved toward me, but I wasn’t going to wait for his help. Not even a second into our “agreement” and he already broke my first rule.
I activated Slow.
The world dropped into a crawl as I vaulted out of the Porter Carriage. In the skill’s dying moments, I lunged farther—toward the sidewalk, away from the road—forcing as much distance as I could.
Time snapped back into motion and the street behind me roared with a deafening blow.
The explosion tore through the road, shattering windows and vitrines along both sides. Glass burst outward. Other carriages around toppled over. It felt like the entire platform shook.
Instinctively, I summoned a Cryora and snapped it inside my COG’s Channel Core, summoning an icy cover to block the raining shards of glass.
Then I looked back.
The carriage was practically gone—cratered almost perfectly at the impact point, burning, its sides angled upward. Black smoke coiled upward, and from within it, a silhouette rose.
The Obsidian Crow stepped through the smoke, snapped his armblade open with a flick of his wrist, and advanced toward me with aggressive steps.
“You’re dead,” he muttered.
It was Crow Thirteen—Casten Vorrick’s not-so-dead brother.
“Theo, stop!” Casten Vorrick shouted from behind him, making him halt mid-step.
“Dooooon’t – “ the Crow screamed, almost as loudly as his explosive entrance. He spun toward Casten Vorrick, a blaming finger stabbing the air between them, his hand shaking, “ – you dare!”
Casten Vorrick advanced slowly, hands raised in a placating gesture. “I know what it looks like – “
“You know?!” the Crow cut him off, voice cracking with fury. “It looks to me like you’re conspiring with the enemy! Am I wrong?!”
“He’s not the enemy,” Casten Vorrick said carefully. “I already explained to you – “
“Enooooooough!” the Crow roared.
His hand flew to his helm. With a violent motion, he unlocked it and hurled it aside. The helm clattered across the street, revealing his pale face—veins dark and swollen beneath rotting skin—and lifeless strands of hair. He looked worse than I remembered him.
If the explosions hadn’t driven people away, that did. Those who hadn’t already fled turned and ran at the sight of him.
“Enough with your lies!” Theo shouted, clutching his head. His fingers dug into his scalp, tearing clumps of hair as he staggered. “I can’t take it anymore! You brought me back for this?! To do this?!”
“I wasn’t lying to you, Theo,” Casten Vorrick said, still approaching slowly, his hands never lowering. Pain etched his features as his eyes stayed locked on his brother. “It’s all part of my plan. Don’t you remember? We talked about this. I would never lie to you – “
“Stop!” Theo screamed, pressing his palms over his eyes. “I need—I need to think…”
The scene unfolding before me was insane, and made me question a lot of the assumptions I had reached back in the cell when I tried to connect everything my past selves had learned, but it didn’t freeze me in place.
With Checkpoint out of order, staying here was far too dangerous. And not only because of this volatile brother drama.
Still on the ground, I began scrambling backward, inch by inch.
I’d already broken my plan with Chronos. Instead of spending a few insignificant loops here in Skyhaven before I descend into the Foundry, I’d chosen to take the risk and follow Vorrick. Judging by what I’d learned, it had been worth it—I now knew what Valdemar looked like, and what turned people into mana crystals—but that didn’t change the reality that Erebus’ presence on this platform was supposedly strong.
And something like this? This was easily the kind of disturbance that would draw his attention.
I had no intention of sticking around to find out what that attention looked like —
BANG!
I jumped as a bullet ripped through the trash bin beside me, completely thrashing it.
“Don’t. Move,” Theo muttered, one palm still pressed to his eyes while the other—his armgun—was aimed at me, smoke rising from the barrel.
Casten Vorrick’s gaze flicked to me for a split second. “Listen to him,” he said calmly. “Stay there. Don’t move. I’ve got this.”
My eyes widened.
He’s got this?! His brother had been inches away from repainting the sidewalk with my brains!
No chance. I needed to get away from here quickly, but smartly.
I nodded, feigning compliance, while inside I was searching for a safe way out.
Casten took another step forward, now only a pace away from his brother, arms extending slowly. “Theo. It’s alright.”
Theo Vorrick shook his head violently, fingers still digging into his scalp. “You don’t understand how hard it is! How painful it is!”
“You’re right,” Casten said softly, closing the distance fully. “I don’t understand.” His hands settled on Theo’s shoulders. “But remember why we’re doing this. Focus on the end goal. Remember why I brought you back. Solvane needs you. I need you.” He gave one firm nod. “Trust me. Like you always did when we were children. Nothing’s changed.”
Theo’s hands slid down from his face. His trembling gaze lifted to meet Casten’s.
“Okay, Big Brother,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”
He even smiled—which only made what happened next all the more terrifying.
With a sharp twist and a sudden flare of Kinetra, Casten Vorrick snapped his brother’s neck.
Obsidian Crow #13 crumpled to the ground.
Casten Vorrick exhaled slowly, as if releasing a long-held breath, then turned his eyes toward me. “I told you I’ve got this.”
I felt no pity toward his deranged brother. And still…seeing how easily he killed his own flesh and blood—especially after he himself had brought him from the dead—I couldn’t help but wonder what far worse things he was capable of doing to people he was far less familiar with.
“You killed him,” I muttered, scrambling away slowly.
“I did.” Vorrick shook his head, disappointment etched into his expression. “I wish I hadn’t, but he was too dangerous. It’s my fault. I was careless. He followed me.” His jaw tightened. “I thought we’d have more time, but it seems like this loop is over. He ruined it.”
“Over?”
He nodded once, then tapped a finger against his ear. “Listen.”
Sharp whistles cut through the air—high, piercing, coming from multiple directions at once. Not random. Structured. Almost conversational.
“Erebus noticed us,” Vorrick said grimly. “Now they’re here to mark us.”