In a vast empty expanse devoid of all essence, especially that of shadow, Divine King Ra'poth knelt, both his hands and feet shackled to the earth by huge chains infused with the will of an ascendant. Anything lesser wouldn't have been able to hold him.

  His prison, a vast space larger than most small world continents, was filled with a creeping dark mist. Ra'poth wasn't intimidated by that; the dark was his comfort zone, and he thrived in it.

  What really terrified him was the person who had locked him here and who he was certain would soon be coming for a visit.

  Unlike the common ascendants who were simply feared for their realms, the Desolate Duchess inspired terror beyond that. The woman was so feared that even Supreme Primarchs moved carefully around her. And Ra'poth knew very well that she was going to be interrogating him, or at least, a minor avatar of hers.

  He knew that against someone like Narkyra, there was still hope that he could withstand her interrogation. The Duchess, on the other hand, was another thing.

  The Emperor had entrusted him with recovering the escapees who'd stolen his prize, and he had failed. He resented himself for that and would do anything to remunerate, but he knew all his chances were gone. He was in the hands of an Ascendant, and there was no escaping that. The only way he could preserve the Emperor's secrecy was to deprive his captors of any information, and cause an apocalypse or two on his way out.

  Ra'poth smiled at that. He was going to die, sure, but his enemies were going to suffer for it.

  The crimson-gold sunlight of Vel two streaked down through the huge canopy of leaves to touch down on Damien. Raising a hand to shield his eyes, even though he didn't need to, Damien looked around at the waiting area for wielders who were awaiting their turn to enter the arthropod proto space.

  The waiting area was a little cafe situated half a mile or so from the twin glowing purple pillars that were the entrance to the mini world. It was a tall tree, about three hundred feet tall, with hundreds of branches stretching far and wide, with leaves large enough to serve as a bed shielding those on the floor from the glare of the sun.

  What amazed Damien the most were the roots; brown and thick, yet flexible enough that they pierced through the earth from below, forming into little loops that went in and out of the ground for close to a hundred meters around.

  The entire area looked like it had been made for a larger number than the hundred-plus Spirit lords currently sitting here.

  Damien picked up a round, buttered up pastry from the plate In front of him, biting into it with less regard for the splotches of butter that dribbled down his chin.

  To the side, he sensed the looks of disgust thrown his way by some of the other fancier looking Spirit lords in the cafe. But since they did nothing more than throw scrunched-up faces at him, Damien chose to ignore them.

  The arthropod proto space, as Damien called it since there wasn't an official name for it, was a mini world comprised mainly of Mind affinity creatures, with the majority of them being insects.

  Damien needed a place to train and strengthen his mind, and while he dearly would have preferred another place that wasn't filled with creepy, multi legged creatures of nightmares, he knew that he had no choice. The arthropod proto space was the only realm that housed some of the most powerful Spirit lord mind creatures on the inner continent.

  There were others, but those were only partially filled or were too weak for him, or the spaces were just on the other continents.

  Mind creatures were the least preferable opponents to deal with as most people preferred the simpler ones who could shoot out rocks or breathe out lightning. And that was why their proto spaces were very few.

  Someone plumped onto the inverted root chair beside him, and Damien turned.

  "I think the waiter at the counter has an eye problem," Keilan said just as he sat down. Like a child, he began sifting through his pastries.

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  Damien looked behind at the young man their age who was standing behind the counter. Admittedly, the man was good looking, with deep black eyes and an equally black, ruffled hair that had been cut short at the temple.

  Damien raised an eyebrow as the man sharply looked away from what Damien was certain had been their table, switching his attention to the other people at the counter.

  He turned back to Keilan, inwardly thanking his luck that he was still chewing on his buttery roll.

  Doing his best not to let his amusement mirror in his expression, Damien shook his head. "Yeah, I don't think so."

  Keilan looked up from his food in confusion. "You sure?" He asked, to which Damien nodded.

  "Then why does he keep blinking when he looks at me?"

  "Umm," Damien slowly said. "That's because he—uh... Likes you."

  "Likes me? Everybody likes me. Well, except Solis. Oh, and Samon, too. Definitely Samon. That guy hates my guts."

  Damien shook his head with a grimace. "Don't be dumb, Kei. The guy like, likes you."

  Realization dawning, Keilan froze. "Ohhhh."

  "Yeahhh."

  "Well, why doesn't he say anything then?"

  "I'm pretty certain that's not how it works, especially for somebody you just met."

  "Mehhh," Keilan rolled his eyes with a dismissive gesture. "Who cares about some unwritten rule that some unknown person put up? I'm going to go talk to him."

  Damien's eyes widened. "Keilan, don't." He stretched his hands to hold back his brother, but Keilan was already off his seat. "You'll spook him off."

  Doing his best not to look back, Damien turned his full attention down to his meal. While he did that, a voice at the back of his mind chastised him for being the scared one, instead of Keilan.

  Between the two of them, Damien had always considered himself the more outspoken one. He wasn't afraid to approach anyone and had to threaten his brother anytime he became too shy to approach a crush. Then why was this different?

  A minute and a half later, Keilan returned to his seat, followed behind by the man.

  "Take a seat," Keilan gestured at the looped branch opposite Damien, and then he, in turn, sat down.

  "So, introductions first," Keilan said. "Damien, this is Tym."

  He then turned to the other man. "Tym, this is my brother, Damien."

  Damien put down a crunchy stick filled with chocolate and then found something to clean his hands with. When he was done, he stretched forth his right hand. "Hello, nice to meet you."

  "And you too," Tym said as he returned the handshake, an indescribable look on his face as he looked between both brothers.

  Damien chuckled, understanding what it meant. "Yes, we're really brothers."

  "Oh—umm—sorry," the other man said with a flustered expression. "I, umm, thought you both were..." He coughed.

  "What?" Damien raised an eyebrow and then pointed at himself and Keilan. "Me? Him? Ohhh, definitely not."

  "Hey," Keilan protested. "That was hurtful, but true, though. Me and Damien is a no, no." He made a gagging expression. "Ewww."

  "Now who's being hurtful?" Damien narrowed his eyes at his brother.

  "Oh, that's good," Tym blinked, and then his eyes widened. "Oh, I didn't me—"

  "Relax, Tym," Keilan said. "We understand what you meant."

  "Oh. Okay," Tym calmed.

  Now that they were done with the basic introduction, Damien was about to speak when Tym interrupted.

  "Oh, I'm sorry. I can't stay long," he said as he stood up. "I've got to get back to work. It was nice of you to have me, Keilan, and also you too, Damien. I hope to see you both sometime again."

  Damien nodded with a smile and then shook the man again, while Keilan simply smiled, and then he winked, a wink which, Damien noticed with a hidden smile, looked more like a person with eye problem.

  "Sure thing, Tym," Keilan said. "I'll come find you after we're out."

  "Okay!" the man returned, halfway back to the counter. "Thanks again for having me!"

  With a sigh, Damien turned towards the grinning face of his brother. "I'm pretty sure you scared him away."

  "I did not."

  "Ohh, yes you did," Damien argued back. "He didn't even stay up to two minutes, all because of you."

  "Don't even start," Keilan glowered. "When it comes to chasing away relationship prospects, we both know who's good at it."

  "Name one person I've chased away. Daimen glowered back.

  "The girl from the town close to Cirin, when we were still peak lords."

  "I didn't chase her away," Damien said with triumph. "You know that we couldn't stay because of the issue with the Mayor, which, if I remember correctly, was your fault."

  Glossing over the accusation, Keilan tried again. "What of the one at Nuska?" He snapped his fingers. "Sira."

  "She got pregnant for another person," Damien said. "How's that my fault?"

  "Fiel?"

  "Was forced into an arranged marriage," Damien countered.

  "Lyrs?"

  "Don't even go there," Damien scowled. "You know very well why she ran away."

  "Yes," his brother smirked. "Because of you."

  "Sure, because of me," Damien acceded. "How's that supposed to excuse the fact that she tried to sell me to slavery? Sell us?"

  Keilan opened his mouth to retort but was then interrupted as a voice swept through the cafe.

  "Number Twenty one!" The voice said and then repeated. "Number Twenty one!"

  "That's our number," Damien said and then began standing. And just because he didn't want the good pastries to go to waste, he shoved a whole one into his mouth, ignoring the intense looks of disgust a fancy passing lady sent his way.

  "You're an animal, Damien," Keilan shook his head.

  "But you still love me," Damien mumbled through the delicious food in his mouth.

  "I'm doomed."