Mekhan stared at Alistair wordlessly before turning to leave. As he stepped out of sight, his form began to shift and disperse, growing less substantial with each passing moment. Eventually, he faded entirely, blending seamlessly with the swirling magic that continued to churn through the room. Despite his apparent disappearance, Alistair was certain Mekhan hadn’t truly left, likely observing everything from beyond their physical perception.
Before Alistair could comment, two more specters appeared, stepping into the doorway. They positioned themselves on either side of the entrance, thin, claw-like hands gripping the frame as they peered cautiously into the room. These specters were notably weaker, their presence far easier to detect and interpret. Alistair sensed their curiosity, their swirling eyes moving independently as they darted between the group and their surroundings, silently taking everything in.
"Good, good, that old bastard is gone," one of them said, its tone relieved and almost giddy. Alistair raised an eyebrow for a moment, second-guessing his analysis.
"Nasty old Hirsin," the other agreed, its head in an unnaturally sharp jerky motion in a display of exaggerated disgust.
The pair stayed by the entrance, still gripping the doorway as they lingered. As the group watched, they began to notice more specters gradually phasing back into view. Where they had previously hidden themselves, they now returned, slipping into sight whenever they believed no one was directly watching. Their movements were cautious but deliberate, and their presence filled the room with an almost palpable energy of curiosity.
"May I presume you are more willing to answer our questions without riddles?" Elenora asked, the irritation from the earlier conversation still evident as she regarded the beings and their peculiar behavior.
"Yes," "No," they responded in unison, their voices overlapping. The female-looking Hirsin appeared willing to cooperate, while the male seemed adamantly opposed. They exchanged a glance before reversing their answers. "No," "Yes," they said, swapping roles with a fluid, almost theatrical synchronization.
Elenora let out a heavy sigh. "What happened to the ritualists who entered earlier, and what can you tell us about this realm?"
"The ritualists went to brave the storm and never returned," the male Hirsin answered curtly. "They were too weak to overcome the challenges they faced and refused to retreat, knowing you would kill them."
Without missing a beat, the female Hirsin smoothly took over. "This realm is one of ever-changing challenges," she explained. "You might catch a glimpse of what to expect before braving the storm, but once a challenge is completed—or passed on—you likely never encounter it again."
Her tone carried a hint of intrigue, her swirling eyes briefly meeting Elenora’s as she finished.
"Are there a lot of different challenges?" Riseth asked.
"As many as there are stars in the night sky," the strange duo replied in sync, their voices weaving together in an almost melodious harmony.
"So, while missing out on a challenge, there are likely others that are quite similar," Nomura speculated, her tone contemplative.
The strange specters tilted their heads at unnatural angles, their needle-like teeth momentarily visible in what could only be described as unsettling smiles.
"If you wish to know more," the female one began.
"Then you must compensate us with scales," the male finished.
They slowly withdrew their heads from the doorframe, their thin claw-like hands following, as though preparing to vanish from sight once more.
"Wait, what are your names?" Alistair called out, his voice firm enough to halt their retreat.
The duo paused briefly, their heads tilting slightly in unison. "Yoe," said the female.
"Ymo," added the male, their voices overlapping in perfect sync.
With that, they fully withdrew from the doorway, their forms fading until they seamlessly melded with the magic of the lotus once more.
"What a... peculiar species," Nomura commented, her words halting as though she’d stopped herself from saying something far less polite.
"Let’s question a few more of these Hirsin before we leave," Elenora said firmly, her tone carrying a quiet authority. "I’d like to see if the other specters corroborate what these two said."
Alistair scratched his beard, glancing at Inquisitor Seitz with a mildly apologetic expression. "They can hear and see everything within this realm," he explained. "They aren’t just inhabitants of this realm; they’re an extension of it. The Hirsin know exactly what you’re saying, and I’d wager the more mischievous ones will try to mislead you."
"He’s right, you know," came a sudden interjection from another Hirsin as it casually walked past the doorway. Its tone was nonchalant, almost playful. Without pausing or elaborating further, it disappeared out of sight, vanishing entirely as though it had never been there.
Inquisitor Seitz growled, and her right-hand man, J?ger groaned.
"What's with the strange disappearing act?" Elenora questioned, her gaze shifting to Alistair, clearly expecting an explanation.
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"This is just a guess," Alistair began, his tone thoughtful, "but from what I can tell, they can only appear and disappear when they’re out of sight—at least, out of physical sight. It doesn't seem to matter when our magical and other senses still seem to pick up on them. You must have noticed how they became much less... substantial as they left our sight."
"I did, and suspected as much," Elenora replied, a slight frown tugging at her lips before fixing her expression. "Let’s split up, see what else we can find out before we have to move on, and reconvene at the portal."
The rest agreed, and they split up, exploring the lotus and its many chambers, which were often quite similar in nature. During his exploration, Alistair came across another bowl of the strange stringy-looking fruit lying on an ornate table. Giving in to curiosity, he picked one up and took a bite. The taste was as awful as its appearance—horribly bitter, with a texture that was both unbearably chewy and stringy. Worse still, it induced an unnatural sensation that made his mouth feel profoundly uncomfortable.
A sense of unease washed over him, and he spat it out, staring at the strange root fruit. His actions elicited snickers from a nearby Hirsin's, who watched him with a toothy grins but showed no sign of taking offense at his reaction.
They continued attempting to question different specters, but none were willing to speak without demanding compensation. Each time, their responses were eerily similar: "Tip the scales if you wish to know more," a cryptic phrase that seemed to reference both currency and the act of shifting the metaphorical scales of exchange.
Riseth suspected the specters had unilaterally decided they had shared as much information as they were willing to offer freely without—as they called it—tipping the scales. Alistair speculated that it might be tied to the Akashic records and how sharing knowledge too freely could diminish the value of self-discovery, thereby reducing the significance of the records themselves. After making their enigmatic demand, the specters would either vanish from sight or blatantly ignore further queries, leaving the group with few answers and even more questions.
Nomura was the first to give up. Alistair noticed her presence moving back toward the gate not long after they had split up, followed soon after by the Inquisitors of the Ethos Crusade. When Alistair and Riseth rejoined them, Nomura wasted no time in voicing her thoughts.
"We should move on for now," she said, crossing her arms and casting an irritated glance at some of the spectating Hirsin. "We’ve spent enough time here, and I doubt we’ll learn more without entering the storm. We don’t really have time for that—the longer we remain, the higher the risk the Syndicate will manage to gather a force to retaliate."
Though Alistair had announced they would claim the realm, it was clear some lingering doubts remained among their allies. The magic of the realm made it abundantly clear that the storm beyond was exceptionally dangerous, and the uncooperative nature of its inhabitants only reinforced those concerns. For now, the Ryser Clan possessed only one Realm Catcher until the Synth Alliance repaid their debts, making the decision weighty. Even so, Alistair’s intuition told him that claiming this realm would more than justify the use of their only Realm Catcher, and Riseth agreed with his assessment.
Alistair gave her an apologetic smile. "You’re right. We should get out of here."
Alistair noticed the relief not only in Nomura but, surprisingly, in Inquisitor Seitz as well. She cast one final venomous glance at a particular Hirsin lingering nearby before stepping through the portal without another word, her second-in-command following close behind.
Before stepping through the portal, Alistair took one last look around. His gaze lingered on the innermost petals of the lotus, their smooth edges arching gracefully around the still pool of mana. Balconies built into the petals, and the petals themselves were now crowded with Hirsin, their swirling eyes locked onto him, unblinking and unnerving as they followed his every move.
Creepy fucking buggers, Alistair thought, suppressing a shiver before finally stepping through the portal.
"Inquisitor Seitz is something the matter. Why have you already returned?" one of the Inquisition guards asked, looking at the group in confusion.
Alistair was only confused for a brief moment before it clicked. This realm does have time compression! He thought, a broad smile appearing on his face.
"How long have we been inside the Realm?" He questioned the guard.
"Roughly three minutes, sir," the guard replied. A moment later, understanding dawned on the guard's face.
Alistair cross-checked the reply with his internal clock, a habit he had developed during the early trial days to track time. According to his calculations, they had spent approximately 42 minutes in the realm. After confirming the exact time stamp with other guards, he determined that the time dilation within the realm was slightly more than ten times slower than real-time. For simplicity’s sake, however, he decided to round it to an even ten.
"How enviable," Inquisitor Seitz mused aloud, her tone laced with intrigue. "A realm with such time compression is a treasure in itself. Then again, I can’t say I envy you entirely. With the Hirsin present, their interference makes using this space incredibly risky. I wouldn’t be surprised if they disrupted operations—or outright stole anything you tried to store here."
She gave a slight bow, her demeanor shifting to one of professionalism. "It is time for me to organize the fleet for departure. It has been a pleasure working with both of your clans," she said, offering a small but genuine smile.
"The pleasure is ours," Nomura replied, extending her arm for a warrior’s shake. Inquisitor Seitz grasped it firmly. "May our enemies tremble before our presence," Nomura added, giving the inquisitor a toothy smile before releasing her from the shake.
Riseth stepped forward next and, to Alistair’s surprise, also offered a warrior’s handshake. He followed suit without hesitation. Their time on this planet was drawing to a close, and Alistair’s gaze swept over the scene around him. The wounded were being carefully carried out as healers worked tirelessly to stabilize and treat them. Little time had passed outside the realm. In the corner of the last chamber, he noticed Kujo performing the final warrior rites for the fallen. A gentle inferno swirled before a small procession of oni warriors standing at attention as their comrades were committed to the cleansing flames.
As Alistair watched, Nomura stepped up beside him. "We burn our dead to set the souls of our kin free," she said, her tone calm and reflective. "Long ago, we believed that without proper rites, the souls of the dead could become trapped, forced to linger and haunt the living—or even rise again in their decayed forms."
"That’s fascinating," Alistair replied, his curiosity evident. Then, turning more somber, he added, "I’m sorry for your losses."
Nomura shook her head, offering a small smile to him and Riseth. "This is nothing out of the norm—it’s the risk every warrior takes, including us. If we don’t push ourselves, we’ll only grow old, shrivel away, and die, becoming a burden to those around us. We Oni do not wish for such an end. And now, with the introduction of the system, even our greatest warriors will never have to suffer that fate."
Alistair contemplated her words as he watched the procession, and he was again reminded of how much he had to change and adapt since before the Initiation. He idly contemplated these thoughts as he wrapped his arm around Riseth's shoulder as they watched the flames.