Casus had begun the Three Virtues Ritual as he had done several times since Favonia had introduced him to it. The goal, just as with every prior attempt, was to glean critical insights into the fundamental principles behind Mamon Couplers through meditating on his collection. The theory of it, that which could be quantified and applied to most models, was one thing, but the phenomena that permitted a coupler to operate beyond its theoretical limits, to attune with its user or even attain Catalyst Resonance Evolution, were just as inscrutable as those behind Archetype Evolution. The rite itself was simple, he just used the Three Virtues Angleweb — called by some the Trismegistos Circle — alongside the appropriate perception-enhancing incenses to amplify his Third Eye to the fullest extent possible in the direction of the sublime and immaterial. There was just one incident that merited noting for its abnormality.

  The incident in question, of course, was a particular vision. The ritual enhanced the connection between the Third Eye and the mind, but as a side effect, it could cause hallucinations that would spiral out of control if he didn’t control his thoughts properly, thus necessitating meditation. It also distorted one’s perception of time, and induced a form of low-breakthrough-boundary bodily paralysis, these being originally side effects, but intentionally retained due to their coincidentally helpful nature.

  Casus’ visions were those of various figures, chiefly those he associated most strongly with his collection of Mamon Couplers: The Skullmask Coupler, the Stonesoul Coupler, a classic Cyclone Hopper Coupler, his Black Magnum Coupler, the Dregsteam Coupler he had used at Slaughterhouse 9, and even a prototype Black Sun Coupler, which the Ironworks had sent him in the effort to get more information on Lady Blackhand. The Skullmask was unique in being a mask and its exceptional performance given its humble construction, but it didn’t work for anyone other than the original owner, who had moved onto the Skullmask v3 many years ago. The Stonesoul, with its shell of ornate brass and cracked core, simply didn’t work, and merely gazing upon it stirred the bitterness of grief in Casus’ heart. The Black Magnum stood out for its stealth and escape capabilities, plus the fact it could be worn with any other traditional coupler underneath it. There was nothing special about the Dregsteam or Cyclone Hopper, they were simply the current-gen, entry-level mass-production couplers and so represented the edge of mass-produced coupler technology as of five years ago.

  Among his visions of the couplers’ wearers, there was one that didn’t fit. Where Casus had expected a default Black Sun Mamon Armor as described in the prototype’s spec sheet, with a masked helmet and red eyes, or perhaps his memory of Lady Blackhand’s Viridaimon, he instead witnessed a form that nearly exactly matched the reflection of her Astral Body upon the material world while astro-diving.

  Only, it didn’t fit. Not quite. The body of billowing black smoke, streaked through with grey, was there, as was the burning-orange ribcage of the Liminal Coil. Only, Casus didn’t recall the sole facial detail of Lady Blackhand’s eyes burning quite so brightly. There was something else. He felt the presence of a simultaneously ominous and numinous enormity, one not entirely unlike that of Favonia in her most savage state. Lady Blackhand had six shadows, and strange tendrils of Tar spread out across her surroundings, crawling over the floor and the walls, and her astral form’s hair spread out in the same manner through the air, rather than billowing listlessly as it had done previously.

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  The vision never made any attempt to interact with him, as previous visions had done on occasion, and instead simply departed after a fairly short time. It felt to Casus as if it simply walked by him, returned, sat down, performed some rudimentary thaumaturgy, and then left right away. It was in that moment of thaumaturgy, however, in that moment of ignition, that Casus witnessed with his Third Eye the light of a dark sun casting all around it in harsh reds and blacks. He witnessed, in that moment, a staccato of images, or rather concepts. In order, Casus understood them thusly: The Pursuit of Strength, the Love of Justice, the Flaming Sword, the Mystery of Mysteries, the Dragonslayers’ Feast, and the Majestic Quest.

  By the time he parsed this part of the vision, it had ended, and the form of Lady Blackhand had vanished. All that remained in its wake was a piece of paper, and, upon that paper, there was an inscrutable scrawl. After turning it over for what felt like half an hour, dwelling on the concepts he had gleamed, the scrawl began to make sense — a poem emerged from it.

  With truth as my sword and faith as its flame,

  I battle for all that is righteous without end

  My armor tarnished yet my will undaunted,

  I partake of the dragonslayers’ feast,

  and think of the boundless grace I have received

  I take up the sword,

  and set off to stake my life once more,

  all that I am, I give for this majestic quest

  It took him some time to fully parse this vision in particular. It was not the obvious aspect of his outlook on Lady Blackhand, that was as plain to see as the Wheel itself, but rather the specificity of those concepts which he had gleaned. They were all too specific to be mere projection. He decided to mention them to her later. For now, however, he continued his meditation. Further visions arrived and passed by, and, eventually, he awoke.

  As he got his bearings, rubbing his aching temples, the banisher noticed a speck of white on the table, where, in his vision, he had placed the paper with the poem. It was still there. Only, there was no poem. Just a note in Lady Blackhand’s handwriting. It said that she hadn’t wanted to disturb him, before it went on to speak of her successful completion of the Astral Implosion Furnace, a battle on horseback against a giant ur-baneworm, and… Of the leftovers in the fridge, and that he was to leave them be, because she intended to eat them. At the very end, as if an afterthought, she reminded him of their meeting with the tracker on the evening of the next day.

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