Alistair and Riseth hovered in stunned silence at the breathtaking sight before them. Below lay an immense lotus flower formed entirely of the mana-dense, stone-like material they had seen earlier. It floated as the calm eye of an immense, raging storm surrounding the lotus, the serenity of the formation sharply contrasting with the chaos beyond. Flashes of lightning illuminated fleeting glimpses of islands, creatures, and structures within the swirling storm, only for them to vanish as the light faded. Yet, with each subsequent flash, those sights vanished, replaced by something entirely different—a surreal and shifting scene that seemed to defy reality.

  Structures had been intricately carved into the massive petals of the lotus, forming what appeared to be habitats often adorned by balconies and what looked to be sanctuaries for the specters inhabiting this realm. Alistair’s attention was drawn to blue-skinned humanoid specters that stepped in and out of view across the lotus. Strangely, they only disappeared when unobserved and seemed to reappear just beyond their direct line of sight. Alistair’s senses told him they weren’t vanishing entirely but shifting into another plane, one intricately tied to the lotus itself.

  “This isn’t a natural formation,” Riseth muttered, awe evident in her voice. “This is a treasure... it even has an aura. It feels ancient.”

  Alistair’s gaze traveled across the intricate magical structures, observing how they stretched far deeper than his senses could fully reach. Layers of arcane substrate shimmered faintly, responding to the ambient magic. One thing became unmistakably clear as he studied the scene. This entire realm was fundamentally connected to the treasure before them. The lotus served as both the heart of the formation and the engine powering the storm, the environment, and the realm itself. It held the storm at bay while simultaneously generating it, granting only fleeting, tantalizing glimpses to those bold enough to face the tempest.

  “We should investigate and speak to these specters,” Nomura suggested. “Perhaps they can enlighten us about the lotus and where the ritualists might have fled.”

  Inquisitor Seitz narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Either the storm leads to entirely different planes, or they’re all dead—and my intuition, backed by my skills, strongly points to the latter.”

  Alistair, meanwhile, found himself momentarily distracted. He let the visual restrictions on his conceptual awareness slide, captivated by the colors radiating from the lotus. They shimmered and shifted in mesmerizing patterns, displaying multiple shades at once in a way that felt almost alive. The display was entrancing until Riseth nudged him, breaking his focus and pulling him back into the conversation.

  He blinked, realizing the others were waiting for his input. While part of his mind had been following the conversation, he hadn’t noticed the attention shift entirely to him.

  “Apologies,” Alistair said, inclining his head slightly. “I agree with Nomura—we should talk to the specters. I also don’t sense any of the cultists, but to be fair, tracking isn’t exactly my specialty.”

  He caught Riseth’s quizzical gaze and replied using his Akashic Link. “Sorry, I got distracted. The colors and magical interplay? It’s fascinating. If I kept observing it, I’m sure I’d gain serious insights into enchanting.”

  "Have you made a decision on whether to claim this realm yet? The magic and potential here speak for themselves," Elenora inquired, her tone even though her gaze was piercing.

  Alistair suspected she was probing for more than just his intentions with this realm, likely fishing for any indication that they had access to other realms or treasures of comparable value. He could also feel the weight of her truth-seeing and social probing skills, effective but far less subtle than what he was accustomed to with Nessyra.

  Riseth stepped closer to him without a word, a silent show of support. Alistair met the Inquisitor's eyes with a small, confident smile, giving nothing away.

  "Waiting and hoping for something better strikes me as a fool's errand. This realm goes beyond just compatibility," Alistair said, his tone measured as he met Elenora's gaze. "Will you contest our claim to it?"

  She flashed a brilliant smile, sharp and knowing. "Of course not; that would go against what we agreed upon. We are allies, after all. But if you were to pass on it, rest assured we would most certainly settle this world."

  Alistair felt the subtle pressure of her social skills ease, a satisfied smile on her face as the tension between them diminished. He hadn’t sensed any hostility from the inquisitor, though her intense personality left little room for doubt that she would immediately stake her claim if they were to relinquish it. As they descended toward one of the larger petals in the inner circle, he noted the relative stillness of the area. There were fewer specters here, yet the sanctuaries and structures carved from the enigmatic material were far more intricate, exuding an air of purpose and significance.

  Just before they landed on the largest of the balconies, Alistair sensed all the specters within the structure vanish, leaving only one to reappear deeper inside. Its presence seemed deliberate, almost as if it were luring them further in. While he didn’t sense hostility from the specters, he suspected they might possess a mischievous nature.

  The room inside the petal resembled a common area, with seating arrangements seamlessly formed from the same material as the petal itself. On the central table, Alistair noticed bowls filled with alien, stringy-looking fruits or vegetables, their exact nature unknown. The walls displayed sprawling, interchanging runic patterns, a mesmerizing interplay of magic that seemed more decorative than functional. Differently, aspected magic wove through the patterns, colliding and interacting in intricate, unpredictable ways. Alistair’s eyes lingered on the display, captivated by the unique aesthetic.

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  The others followed his gaze, though Inquisitor Seitz narrowed her eyes, her expression thoughtful. “What is this rune work?” she asked, her tone measured. “It doesn’t appear to align with the larger magical structure.”

  Alistair leaned closer to the rune-covered walls, his gaze drawn to the mesmerizing interplay of clashing magical elements. “I think it’s a form of entertainment for the specters,” he mused, his voice thoughtful. “Though I imagine someone skilled enough could glean insights into their enchantments—or even their concepts—by interacting with it.” Slowly, he extended his hand toward the glowing patterns, curiosity getting the better of him.

  Before he could make contact or let his magic reach out, an overwhelming presence filled the room, halting him in his tracks. The pressure was so sudden and intense that the air seemed to hum with latent power. Between them and the room’s exit, a figure appeared, its voice smooth and otherworldly. “You are correct. These are for our entertainment. Though we call ourselves the Hirsin—or by the names we choose to take, should we feel inclined.”

  Alistair’s stomach dropped as the immense difference in grade hit him like a hammer. Cold sweat dripped down his back, and he could feel the same panic and tension radiating from the others. The figure before them did not bother to hide or restrain its power.

  Its deep blue skin shimmered faintly, exuding an aura of ethereal detachment. Its face bore three eyes, the third prominently positioned on its forehead, each one resembling a swirling vortex of colors and raw magic that felt almost alive. The creature’s long, horizontal ears extended outward, framing a sharp, angular face with an overly long, pointed nose. Its proportions were unsettling, with spindly limbs attached to a shorter torso, its movement languid yet precise. Draped in a toga-like robe of white and dark blue hues that mirrored its skin, the Hirsin radiated an overwhelming presence as it studied them with evident intrigue.

  "Oh, how rude of me. I didn't introduce myself!" The figure flashed a mischievous, toothy grin, rows upon rows of needle-like teeth glinting in the dim light. "I am Mekhan," he continued smoothly, his voice laced with unsettling charm. "I welcome you to Nivareth. I sincerely hope you will prove to be better guests than the last faction who claimed the other side of the portal."

  Nobody dared to speak. Mekhan remained unbothered, his imposing form still as he waited for a response. Alistair studied him carefully, unable to detect any outright hostility, but he knew better than to antagonize the strange specter.

  "That doesn’t seem like too high a bar to clear," Alistair replied, allowing a faint smile to tug at his lips. "Can I presume you’re the guardian of this realm you call Nivareth?"

  Mekhan snickered, the sound sharp and unsettling. He shook his head, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "In some ways, I am; in others, I am not," he replied, his tone dripping with ambiguity. "Call it what you like. The last group called it the dangerous watery shithole. Personally, I prefer Nivareth."

  Mekhan tilted his head to an almost unnerving degree, his strange, long neck displaying a surprising range of motion, reminiscent of a snake. The off-putting grin remained fixed as his three swirling eyes moved independently, each one appearing to focus on a different individual in the group. At least, that was what Alistair presumed the strange, living vortexes were doing.

  "What are you? What is your purpose, and what do you want from us?" Elenora questioned, her tone measured but edged with caution.

  "I just told you—I am Mekhan, and my purpose?" Mekhan tilted his head again, his grin widening as if amused by the question. "That is for me to know, perhaps for you to ponder. As for what I want from you..." He let the words linger, the silence stretching uncomfortably. "I am here to satisfy my curiosity, nothing more, nothing less."

  Inquisitor Seitz seemed quite unhappy with the response, but Alistair sensed a slight wave of relief from Riseth and subtly glanced at her with curiosity. "Did you figure something out?" he inquired through the Akashic Link.

  "I don't think this being can attack us," Riseth replied through the Akashic Link.

  "I think you're right," Alistair responded. "It would have likely killed the Syndicate members if it could. Did you figure something else out?"

  "The way it is connected to the lotus... I think these specters are part of it, but it feels quite different from the connection between a dungeon core and its minions. It seems to be even more tightly connected than a minion, but it also seems able to think and act of its own accord. Can you see more than I can?" Riseth asked.

  Alistair shifted his focus from the creature to the magic surrounding it and interwoven with it. The patterns were intricate and radiant, the connection to the lotus intrinsic, almost as if it were bound by it. So far, he concurred with Riseth's assessment and shifted out of combat readiness into a more casual stance, the tension in his posture easing slightly as he continued to observe.

  "Shame, those two figured it out," Mekhan said, his grin faltering ever so slightly, a flicker of disappointment in his tone. "Go ahead and claim this realm," he said, pronouncing the word claim with a dismissive edge as he turned away, his movements languid and unhurried.

  "Wait, please," Alistair called out, "We plan to not just set up on the other side of the portal but store and transport this realm to a different planet. Can I assume you, or, rather, the lotus will not interfere?"

  The magics surrounding them suddenly churned faster and stronger, almost as if responding excitedly to Alistair’s words. He watched as Mekhan froze mid-step, his long neck twisting unnervingly until his head turned a full 180 degrees, much like an owl. His three swirling eyes locked onto Alistair, a mixture of intrigue and disbelief etched across his sharp, angular face.

  "You would properly claim this humble lotus for your bloodline?" Mekhan asked, his tone laced with an unexpected intensity. Though it was difficult to pin down, Alistair sensed a faint, pervasive hopefulness saturating the air around them.

  "I would," Alistair replied firmly. The swirling energy continued to intensify, brushing against him like an unseen tide. He could feel the weight of countless unseen eyes fixed on him, their silent scrutiny almost tangible. Resolving to remain stoic, he straightened his posture and stared down the strange specter before him, refusing to waver under Mekhan's piercing gaze.