Sadi cycled the Spirit Well water in her core, wearing the parasite ring her master had given her. Now that she was Highgold, her cycling was more effortless than ever. They had been in the Spirit Well for a week now, and by Ziel's estimation, it would take another week for her to reach Truegold. She focused on what she saw in the dream tablet. The woman manipulated light in a way she had never seen before. She only understood that the woman used invisible light alongside visible ones. The heavenly pillars were not illusions or tricks of the light; they were real and solid. She understood why everyone in the dream called her Emperor.

  Her perception drifted to her left, watching Whitehall cycling diligently. He was also a Highgold but still had a long way to go before reaching Truegold. Well, long by the standards of having a Monarch's elixir. A week and a half, according to Ziel.

  "Here," she heard Ziel's voice.

  Sadi opened one eye and saw him handing a dream tablet to Wei Shi Lindon, the Unsouled. But he was Highgold now, at least on one core; she learned two days into the Spirit Well. Lindon's eyes sparkled at Ziel, and she recognised it from how the boy would also look at Whitehall. Sadi pitied him somewhat. The boy had grown up scorned and deprived of any opportunities but the scraps. Whitehall had previously tried to help, but corruption in Sacred Valley ran deep.

  Ziel's footsteps approached Sadi and Whitehall, and she looked up to him, standing over them with a lazy look.

  "We're leaving," Ziel said before turning and heading over to the entrance of the Spirit Well.

  She looked to her left and saw Whitehall raising an eyebrow at Ziel's back.

  "We're not Truegolds yet," Whitehall said.

  "Six vials," Ziel replied, not looking back. "That will take you to Truegold. We can stay here and get you both to Truegold. Or we can fix your lifeline."

  Whitehall's eyes widened at Ziel's mention of fixing his lifeline.

  "Oh, you must be talking about the Life Well," Dross's purple form popped out of the gate stone and explained.

  "What does it do?" Whitehall asked.

  "I thought the name is self-explanatory," Dross quipped. "It fixes your lifeline. It can even turn the elderly into youth."

  "Orthos," Lindon gasped from the corner.

  Whitehall's hands were shaking, and Sadi reflexively reached for them. This was it for Whitehall. It was his chance to fix the damage he had done to himself.

  She nodded at him. "Let's go."

  They took an empty jar from the corner and began filling it with the water from the Spirit Well, but Ziel stopped them. "We have enough."

  Ziel stood at the border of the habitat, his hammer appearing from thin air. Hundreds of sea drakes surrounded the habitat. "I'll clear the way. This is not a task for golds."

  Lindon hesitated behind them. "I," he began but paused. "I might stay longer, at least until one of my cores is Truegold. By your estimation, how much longer would the pocket world survive?" he asked Ziel.

  Ziel shrugged. "I have no issues with easy advancements. Suit yourself. If nothing changes, the pocket world will survive for three more weeks."

  Lindon exhaled in relief.

  "But why wait that long," Ziel continued. "There's no point risking yourself. You don't want to stay here."

  "I have a friend outside," Lindon answered. "She helped me to reach this far. This might be my chance to repay some of it."

  "The sword sage's disciple?" Whitehall asked.

  Lindon nodded.

  "Do what you need to," Ziel said, pointing toward cracks in space that looked like cobwebs. "But when you can see space through the cracks, you should have already left."

  Ziel disappeared into the dark water with a flash of green light.

  "You're staying then?" Whitehall asked, turning to face Lindon.

  "Yes, Elder Whitehall," Lindon answered. "I cannot leave such resources behind like this."

  "The sword sage's disciple," Whitehall changed the subject. "She a Truegold?"

  "Yerin," Lindon replied. "Highgold, last time I saw her."

  Sadi was surprised. They were at the same level; she thought the Yerin would be far beyond them, being a disciple of a sword sage and having left Sacred Valley almost a year earlier. Hopefully, this time, they were not only equal in advancement but also equal in strength.

  Lindon looked nervous, shifting uncomfortably in his cycling position. "She hates you," he said to Whitehall.

  Whitehall nodded. "I killed her master, which I assume is the same thing as killing her father."

  "How?" Lindon asked. "You were all a Jade. She mentioned poison, but her master was a Sage. It shouldn't have worked."

  "He deserved it," Sadi cut in, growling, her nails digging into her palms. "He deserved worse," she repeated.

  Before Whitehall could reply, Ziel reappeared in the habitat. His grey cloak was wet and bloody, but he was unharmed. "Let's go," he ordered.

  "Another time," Whitehall waived at Lindon. "I wish you the best of luck. And maybe together we can save Sacred Valley in the future."

  Lindon pressed his fists and bowed at Whitehall, but only Whitehall. "Thank you, Elder Whitehall."

  Sadi did not reply and waited with Ziel on the border of the habitat for Whitehall. Meatball's wet form waddled and climbed to her shoulder. The bird felt heavier, and her black feathers were reflective like steel. Little Blue chimed at Meatball, waiving at the bird. Sadi thought she saw tears coming out of the eyes of the Riverseed.

  Together, all four Wastelanders dived into the dark water.

  "You shouldn't learn from the small boy," Orthos grumbled behind Lindon. "Poison is not a dragon's way. He is a snake."

  Whitehall emerged last into the Habitat of the Life Well. The habitat was a forest covered with Dreadbeasts and decayed plants. He realised that the plants were poisoned. Ziel led the way, and the Dreadbeasts scurried out of his path. A dreadbeast dog barked, and the insects snapped their claws, but they did not approach.

  There was a stone barn in a clearing with a massive door. On its front, a skeleton with cupped hands stood.

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  Ziel spoke as he slid a stone between the skeletal hands. "This will be your greatest elixir in the pocket world, Whitehall."

  Whitehall's hands would be shaking uncontrollably if not for Sadi's hand wrapped around his. The door opened, and a small pool of shining green water was in the centre. Whitehall felt an intense life aura coming from it. This was the Life Well; he was sure of it.

  "Would this help you too, Ziel?" Whitehall asked.

  Ziel shrugged and scooped a handful of water. He swallowed it and stood still. After a few moments, he shrugged again. "I guess not." He gestured at the water. "We don't have unlimited time."

  Whitehall ignored the surroundings and ran towards the well. He knelt, watching the green water. He dunked his head into it without a second thought, swallowing as much water as possible.

  His spine stiffened, causing him to raise his head. His muscles froze, and he felt blood rising into his mouth. He was unable to spit, so they flowed through his agape mouth. The pain was intense, much worse than anything he had gone through before. He heard Sadi yelling, but he could not make out her words.

  Inside his spirit, his venom madra fought the life aura. They saw the life madra as an enemy. Whitehall already knew what he needed to do. He cycled as his body writhed on the ground. Life and poison were the same; that was the basis of his path. Now, he needed to implement it. As he cycled, his body began accepting and digesting the life aura. He realised why Ziel said this would be his greatest elixir in Ghostwater. The life aura was growing his core faster than the Spirit Well.

  Furthermore, his understanding of life and poison grew. His spirit separated the makeup of the Life Well water, channelling the life aura to his lifeline, hormones to his muscles to promote growth, and some type of cells to his bones to increase their density. But most importantly, flushing the harmful substances out of his pores. Along with the insight from the dream tablet, he could use this to develop his techniques.

  "He'll be fine," Ziel reassured Sadi. "His body is processing the Life water."

  Sadi hesitated as she saw Whitehall writhing on the ground. His skin cracked, and red blood and black liquid flowed out of open wounds.

  "You should cycle," Ziel continued, summoning a jar and tossing it to her.

  She caught it and opened the lid, revealing the Spirit Well water inside. "How much did you bring?" she asked.

  "Enough," Ziel replied after a moment. He sat down and began cycling.

  "How much can a soulspace fit?" she asked. Ziel did not reply. "You're not a Truegold, are you?" she deduced.

  Ziel opened his eyes slowly and sighed. He did not deny her statement. "How'd you figure it out?"

  "Your spirit is... how it is," Sadi replied. "You have a soulspace which could only be accessed once you're peak Truegold. But you mentioned that the sea drakes were not a 'task for golds.'"

  Zeal sighed more heavily. "I was an Archlord," he answered. "Still am, I guess, but strength more comparable to an Underlord or Overlord if I push myself."

  Sadi's eyes widened at his answer. Ziel was only one advancement away from The Beast King. She wanted to know what happened to his spirit but decided not to ask.

  "Could've been worse," Ziel continued emotionlessly. "Sunda was unable to fix it on her own. But she did what she could."

  "She helped you?" Sadi asked, her hand drifting to her stomach above her core, where Sunda's remnant once was.

  "She did," Ziel nodded. He was more talkative than usual today. "And that is why I am helping you."

  "She asked you for this in return?"

  "No," Ziel shook his head. "She asked for nothing in exchange. But, she did have a wish," he paused. "But she helped me even when I told her I could not comply with her wishes."

  Thoughts whirled in Sadi's mind. "What wishes?"

  "For another time," Ziel raised a hand, signalling her to stop asking. "Just know I have your best interest in mind. And keep what we speak about here a secret."

  Sadi frowned as she looked away and towards the barn's walls. Hideous dread beast corpses were filled inside tanks lined on the walls. A plaque on the side of the tanks even described the beasts. She was about to take a sip of the Spirit Well water when the door to the barn opened with a creak.

  She felt blood through her perception. She opened her eyes and saw a Redmoon Hall artist standing by the entrance, her blood shadow by her side. Sadi instinctively reached for her knives.

  The woman pointed a pale finger at Sadi. "I have no quarrels with the Wasteland."

  "Then let us swear an oath not to harm each other while we are here," Ziel suggested, having not moved an inch from his cycling position.

  Sadi felt a familiar tug in her spirit and accepted the oath. Once the oath was finished, the Redmoon women stepped inside and headed towards the cylinders lined on the walls. Sadi noticed the woman had ignored Life Well.

  Sadi shifted her gaze to Ziel, who was calmly cycling. She kissed her teeth, drank the Spirit Well water, and cycled. She replayed what she saw in her mind. The Emperor stood on a boulder, and with a wave of a hand, four dark pillars appeared in the sky. She could replay the vision clearly, clearer than she thought she ought to be capable of.

  There, she thought, as she replayed the dream just before the pillars appeared. She manipulated the light waves, generating a reaction deeper than Sadi's comprehension. There was a tiny explosion right before the pillars emerged in thin air.

  She studied the dream as she cycled the Spirit Well water.

  Whitehall's consciousness returned, and he crumpled to the ground. He blinked rapidly; his eyes were dry from having opened them for so long. He cycled madra into his eyes, causing tears to form and moisten the dry eyes. His perception tasted like blood. He eyed the sensation and saw a Redmoon Hall sacred artist standing towards him by the wall where a cylinder once was, a corpse of a dreadbeast lying next to her.

  "Swear the oath," she croaked.

  Whitehall felt a tug on his spirit, and he understood the oath. He turned to Ziel, who nodded at him. Whitehall accepted it, and the Redmoon's threatening stance disappeared as she dragged the corpse outside the barn.

  "Who is she?" Whitehall asked.

  "No one we should care about right now," Ziel replied. His gaze shifted to Whitehall. "How do you feel?"

  Whitehall looked down on himself. He stood further up from the ground, he realised. And his trousers were now above his ankles. His sleeveless shirt remained untattered, but he saw that his arms were longer and larger. His mask was on the floor, and he reached for his goldsign. He could feel that that side of his face was still marred. He fastened his mask and saw Meatball floating on the Life Well, her face smiling in content.

  "Took you long enough," Meatball chirped, opening one eye. "I was beginning to get bored."

  "You got bigger," Whitehall said, eyeing Meatball's form. She was larger now, and he estimated she would reach his waist if they stood side by side.

  "Hah!" Meatball laughed. "Took you long enough to realise, too."

  Whitehall felt satisfaction from their bond, and his eyes widened. "You're Truegold," he said.

  Meatball smiled smugly, "I thought I was in love with the Spirit Well. But it turns out the Life Well is my true love after all."

  That reminded Whitehall. "Ziel, I want to take the Life Water with us."

  Ziel continued cycling. "Suit yourself."

  Whitehall searched for the empty cylinders on the ground. He found one still intact and began filling it with the water from the Life Well. His mind whirled at the thought of what he could do with this. The Life Water was meant to heal, but when he cycled, he felt he could change it to kill instead. It could be the basis of a new type of poison.

  As he screwed the lid of the cylinder, his gaze shifted to a bright golden light in the corner. Sadi was cycling there, and golden lights slammed against one another before her. He saw a forearm-sized jar lying next to her, empty.

  "How long was I out?" he asked Meatball.

  "A few days," the bird replied, stepping out of the life well. The bird flew towards Whitehall, but instead of landing on his shoulder, she gripped both shoulders instead. "I can do this now!" Meatball began flapping her wings without warning, raising Whitehall off the ground.

  Whitehall's feet dangled in surprise, but it quickly changed to amazement and what they could do with their paths now. He remembered planes dropping poisoned gas from high up the sky.

  "That would not work with anyone higher than Jade," Meatball chirped. "Unless we plan to kill Jades en mass, I recommend we find another use."

  Whitehall looked up at Meatball, who had a smug expression. So the bird already knew. Of course, she did; she was his contracted partner.

  "But if we're of higher advancement, though," Meatball mused. "We can poison entire villages right before a herald or sage swiftly kills us."

  "Don't think too far," Ziel said. "Sacred Artists have their ways of fighting in the skies."

  Whitehall felt disappointed, but Ziel was probably right. In this world, flying may not be as much a game changer as it was on Earth. However, he did not detect any disappointment in Meatball. Like the bird knew something, he did not. Or the bird was overplaying this achievement; Whitehall could not really tell.

  Once Meatball put him down, he ripped a piece of his shirt into two ribbons and tied them around the cylinder. This way, he could secure the cylinder on his back like a bag.

  "Let's go," Ziel stood up.

  Sadi opened her eyes at his words, and Whitehall saw they were golden, similar to Sunda's. "I'm so close," she complained to no one in particular. "I just need a," she paused when her gaze landed on Whitehall.

  Whitehall could swear he saw a blush. He looked away, hiding his own from her. He heard her footsteps approach and saw her standing before him from the corner of his eyes. He felt her embrace, his face smothered by her chest. He smelled blood, dirt, and sweat from her.

  "Congratulations," she whispered.

  Whitehall hugged back, unable to hide his relief. His lifeline was back now, stronger and better than ever. He was whole.

  "Thank you."

  Elder Empire

  Iteration requested.  Asylum

  Date?  Request Rejected

  Report Complete

  Malin woke with a choked gasp, his body convulsing as he vomited saltwater and blood onto the sand. His chest heaved, each breath a struggle, as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The sky above was a tempest of fury, lightning streaking across the black clouds, rain lashing down in sheets. He was on a beach, the sand coarse and cold beneath him. In the distance, towering over the wreckage of his fleet, was the Elder. Its massive, grotesque form loomed like a nightmare-made flesh, its tentacles writhing and its claws glinting in the storm's sporadic flashes of light.

  Malin tried to wipe his mouth, but his left hand was tugged back. He turned, his heart lurching as he saw Tseria lying unconscious beside him. Her wrist was tied to his with her hair tie, a desperate act of survival that had kept them together through the storm. Her skin was pale, her lips blue, and her body unnaturally still.

  "Tseria," he gasped, his voice hoarse and broken. He bent over her, shaking her gently, then more urgently. "Tseria, wake up!" But she didn't stir. Her chest didn't rise. Her hand was cold in his.

  Malin knelt there, his body trembling, tears mixing with the rain on his face. He had failed her. He had failed everyone. The weight of his guilt and grief pressed down on him, crushing him beneath its unbearable burden.

  Another roar shattered the air, pulling him from his despair. Malin looked up, his eyes widening as he saw the Elder turn its gaze toward him. The creature's massive head tilted, its glowing eyes locking onto his. Slowly, deliberately, it raised a clawed hand and pointed directly at him.

  Malin's instincts screamed at him to run, to flee, to do anything to escape the horror bearing down on him. But he didn't move. He couldn't. His body felt heavy, his spirit broken. He had nothing left.

  Instead, he lowered himself to the ground, his forehead pressing into the wet sand. He wasn't bowing to the Elder—he would never bow to that monstrosity. The thought filled him with rage, but he pushed it aside. No, he was bowing to the sky, to the heavens, to the only force he had left to plead to.

  "Mother," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the storm. "Forgive me."

  The sky flashed a brilliant blue, the light so intense it seemed to pierce through the storm. Malin didn't look up. He kept his head bowed, his body trembling as his instincts screamed at him to move, to fight, to do something. But he stayed still, resigned to his fate.

  Then the pain came.

  A searing, white-hot agony ripped through him as lightning struck his body. He screamed, his voice raw and guttural, but he couldn't move. His limbs were locked in place, his muscles rigid. He looked down, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and saw the horrifying truth: his flesh was turning to stone. The transformation began at his feet, the grey, lifeless texture creeping upward, consuming his legs, his torso, and his arms.

  Panic surged through him, but he was powerless to stop it. He turned his head, his vision blurring as the stone reached his neck. The last thing he saw was Tseria's hand, still tied to his, lying motionless on the sand.

  "Protect," he grunted, his voice strained and weak.

  "Protect," he tried to yell, but the words were barely a whisper.

  "Protect," he willed, his mind screaming even as his body failed him.

  "Please," he begged, his breath shortening, his vision darkening. "Protect her."

  As the stone reached his face, his final thought was of Tseria. And then, in the last flicker of his consciousness, he saw it—a golden light, warm and radiant, enveloping her still form. It was faint, but it was there. A spark of hope in the darkness.

  And then Malin died, his body fully petrified, his final plea echoing silently in the storm.