“Beware the soldier who wields cold flames—they burn not with pride, but the ashes of what they once loved.”

  - From The Annals of the Shattered Cryos, Chapter VII: “The Legion of Winter’s Price”

  A Tianshe’s right foot slid across the dirt beneath him as his eyes burned with a violet glow, trailing along in the air with his movement. His Jury had already been sucked into the rose blossoms that hung overhead. He was well aware of their effect before anyone touched them, with the color of his pupils.

  Scenes overlaid across his left eye, the one not hidden by a blindfold. This ramshackle method of controlling his Stigmata allowed him to remain in reality instead of being pulled into his vision entirely. While it gave him less information, it was less exhausting and more comfortable.

  Still, as a trio walked toward him, blood dribbled down his left eye, eventually dripping onto a fiery petal beneath him. He recognized two of them and knew the last from Eight’s intel.

  Hana. Melody. And Friday.

  Claudius’ hand hovered an inch about a blossom, prepared to enter the Third Trial at any moment. Why was he standing here? Why had he decided to wait?

  It was simple. He wanted to buy time. His eyes had already peered into the future. The next challenge would be straightforward for him, more painless compared to the others, at least.

  “Aqua Calefacta.”

  The otherwordly chant surged from the Judge’s mouth while power welled in his fingers. Similar to Dante’s plain attack but leaning toward a more scalding medium, water burst from Claudius’ fingers.

  He seared a line into the grass between him and the three. It stood straight, a clear warning to any who would cross. He knew the tallest figure from his original deal with the Lightsea. This was the man who had forced him to shake the hand of fate.

  Against his demarcation, the hooded man spoke without an ounce of hurry or recognition of their non-existent meeting, “Claudius Vermillion. I finally met Sunwin’s prodigal student. It is quite an honor. But... you'll only receive one warning. Move aside.”

  The Judge shook his head, laughing as he replied, “Hmm... Maybe in a little. You know who I am?”

  “Yes. Everyone who has made Praetor Sun their foe knows you. And they are out to gut you. Including me,” Friday said with a cloaked scoff.

  Claudius nodded. His words made sense. He was her successor, after all. For all his life, her shadow protected him. Now... it was unsure if that shade would last. The Judge's Tide gathered around his hands as he stared forward, meeting Hana and Melody’s silent gaze, “Then why aren’t you attacking me? You two, as well? What are you waiting for? Is it not time to fight?”

  Eyes shifted from Claudius’ gray countenance to his raised hand over the petal. None of the three were stupid. They knew he had a trick prepared.

  However, no words were exchanged in the air. Hands reached toward weapons. Without his shotgun, Friday drew his cleaver and strode forward. Hana built her pistols of Hydro, and Melody’s hum began.

  The three circled the Judge. With each step, they neared the line.

  He was outnumbered. And outgunned.

  Nevertheless, Claudius was not a man to be underestimated. His fingers coiled around his Executioner while his free hand formed a veil of water overtop his nails.

  The violet burst into his eyes. He had wanted to save it, to not waste the effort, but the Judge knew when to recognize he was outclassed. He needed every advantage he could scrounge up.

  In his gaze, reality split, overlaying atop the other as the future sped up in his gaze. He observed the moves of the three with nonchalance. Hana shot first, saving her Domain Collapse yet holding her hands close together.

  She had learned from her fight with Dante. The bullet was quick, striding Claudius’ right shoulder, left knee, and right for his forehead.

  The next to attack was Melody. Her music struck the air with a disturbing hymn. It spread inescapably until Claudius’ eyes and ears bled, disorienting him and slowing his reactions. After all, it was sheer sound. Only the strongest could dodge such attacks.

  Then, finally, Friday arrived. His cleaver sang for Claudius’ neck. In the split future, the Judge dodged with a blackened gash along his collar, gushing blood. As a follow-up, the swordsman lunged with a horizontal blade, seeking to slice his opponent in half.

  However, Claudius couldn’t dodge. Between the disorientation, the bullets of water embedded in him, those that continued coming, and the pitch-like laceration, the blade sawed him clean in half.

  The agony swam through Claudius’ eye as he acted in advance.

  With a mere tilt of his head and a shuffle to the right, all of Hana’s bullets missed. He didn’t move faster than them. He just knew where they would arrive. Then, his radiating eye fell upon Melody.

  His Executioner rose while Friday charged at him. He utterly ignored the mountain of a cloaked man to shoot at Melody despite never fighting her before.

  The bullet trailed through the air and forced the woman to evade and move behind Friday. Her voice cut off as Claudius tossed his pistol to the side. A tendril of water emerged while it flew away from the Judge before the Tide pulled the trigger in mid-air.

  Melody attempted to restart her Stigmata, only for yet another bullet to sail her way. After diving for the earth, she earned a line of gushing blood along her back.

  Astonishment bloomed in both Dirge’s faces as Claudius strode forward confidently. His eyes burned, and his vision blurred to the point he struggled to see the distant Melody.

  Regardless, he didn’t back down.

  The cleaver split the air, heading straight for the Judge’s throat, but Claudius had already retreated from his sudden dash forward. Friday grunted as he missed. He didn’t seem too surprised by such a feat from the Tianshe.

  However, his next move emerged far faster than the first, just as Velum had predicted. With one hand controlling his Executioner, Claudius leaped into the air, swinging his lower body into the air as if jumping a hurdle.

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  The man bent to the side, his other hand covered in water expanding with a greater reach as he shouted, “Aqua Manus. Resonare!”

  His fist of Hydro slammed into the flat edge of the cleaver, sending Claudius higher and clear of the strike. However, the Tide didn’t stop there as the clenched water surged across the blade.

  The third word of his chant coalesced as a knuckle of water slammed into Friday’s jaw. Both men flew back from the impact, the Judge landing with grace while the other stumbled and groaned in pain.

  However, Claudius was the one left stunned as Friday’s hood fell, revealing a film of pitch across the man’s features. He had blocked it. More than that. He still managed to hide his identity. Despite his knowledge, Claudius wasn’t sure who this was.

  He figured it had to be some famous figure, but his assumptions didn’t add up. Even with his abilities, he hadn't glimpsed a peek.

  A Necto? But what is it? Black liquid... Is it Seacaster? No. Ink doesn’t move like that. He’s the only Centurion I can think of with such a Tide. No Judges are like that. As for Praetors... I’d already be dead.

  The Judge retreated with caution.

  A laugh echoed as the other three paused, too, gauging their opponent. Friday shook his head covered by that substance and spoke from beneath it with a sunken voice, “You... Congress had your Designation wrong, didn’t they? They thought you were a distant-seeing Seer. But you’re not. You’re the rarer kind. Closer to fate. You really are chosen by the heavens. A Praetor lying to Congress for you to hide your abilities... tsk tsk.”

  Hana gasped as her guns still continued to grow, every bullet so far dodged by Claudius’ movement. Thin lines grew on Claudius’ face as he bore a grim smile. He had already been found out.

  The Judge had a far more intimate connection than other Seers. They could only grasp winds of distant futures, yet he could see the near future clear as day.

  His attackers regrouped, and Claudius yanked his Executioner back into his palm. Before, he had reached his limit of three concurrent Tides.

  Chanting was unnecessary for a rope of water, but the other two drained far more of his focus. The hand formed by Manus should have dealt a critical blow after being echoed by Resonare, bolstering its power and recasting it.

  Now, with all three of his opponents still mostly uninjured, he knew he would have to stop holding back. Even if it cost him.

  One of Dante’s crew had already ascended. Every second here was absolutely vital for his mission.

  All the others came for survival or some tangible reward. Claudius was not the same. While he was here to regain his family’s honor, something in his heart told him that was not all.

  He was here for his Praetor. She had never asked anything of him up until now. Training and guidance were all he received from her. Never demands of such grandeur.

  As such...

  Claudius pulled down his blindfold on his right eye. It remained difficult for him to control his Stigmata. Velum sat as one of the most potent abilities he had ever seen not including a Domain Collapse. It only made sense it came with its own perils.

  Friday saw his actions and rushed forward, shouting toward the two Anathemas, “Now! Attack him! He’s trying—”

  His words never finished in Claudius’ ears as time froze for him. In the still moment, the future played. With a calm gaze, he watched himself get obliterated in a mere handful of moments.

  However, the vision didn’t end there. The dead man felt a barrier upon his death.

  It was ephemeral. If Claudius didn’t take it in the next few seconds, he would miss his chance. But it was more than a barrier. It stood as a choice.

  Deep down, his innards cautioned him that this was just as vital as the Contract. Two roads lay ahead.

  Two eyes, each with a different future, yet he could only traverse one. At least, that was his limit for now.

  Present or future. He had already discarded growing his presence of the past. While he could still peer into reality, it no longer worked on living things and only the unmoving or dead. It was a sacrifice he acknowledged as necessary for his survival.

  So, with the past forgotten, he had to choose.

  Present.

  Or future.

  He knew what he had to choose.

  The future had saved him many times, so he strode toward the eye of his right. Time continued in the vision in the next instant, proceeding past his death.

  From a starry gaze, he observed the three peer at his decapitated corpse.

  Hana mocked his efforts first, “What an idiot. A mere Judge thinks he can stand to us?”

  “Yeah. How stupid,” Melody chimed in while snagging his Executioner. The heart within it, however, refused her touch and burnt her hand. Only a Judge may wield their tools. “Fuck!”

  Beside the Dirge, Friday stared down at Claudius while covering his face once more. He didn’t seem nearly as convinced as the others were in the Judge’s weakness.

  “Claudius Vermillion would not die so quickly. There must be a trick of some kind. His grandfather’s inheritance alone should give him the power to stand against us,” he spoke with genuine respect, not the faux words from earlier. The other two glanced at him confusedly, as they didn’t know his family line. “The Drowned Dragon. I am sure even you, younger Dirge, have heard of his legend.”

  Eyes widened into saucers as Melody kicked the body once for good measure, “Damn. We killed a rich kid! Hahaha!”

  Hana grinned ever so slightly before Friday stepped past them, heading toward the blooming petals.

  Before he could touch one, however, the world shook. Gouts of fog emerged from a raised petal. That of the devouring mist.

  It was an unbelievable amount, equal to the entire output of a figure like Geist in raw volume. Claudius knew only one figure with such a rare Tide who still lived.

  Sonna. But even she can’t do this. It is far beyond her capabilities. Even if it weren’t, how did she break through the Inferose’s Third Trial?

  Nothing added up in his head. Unless... that man Eight warned him about emerged. The one that appeared identical to Dante. Rarely did the Anomaly show even a sliver of fear, not against any of the Caesars nor this Friday who nearly killed him.

  But against Judas? Claudius heard the imperceptible tremble. He terrified the boy.

  The battle in the distance continued, and Friday furrowed his brows. However, despite his concern for the sight, he didn’t investigate. Instead, he shook his head toward the flower. With his mind decided and proof that the Inferose could be damaged, he reached up with a strand of that viscous liquid and pulled himself toward the Inferose. Then, he climbed the mountainous construct, utterly skipping the Trials.

  Hana and Melody paused, not wanting to follow him or open themselves to the Judge. They whispered to each other. Through their words, Claudius learned they didn’t follow him out of obligation or desire. It was simply forced obedience.

  He had found another weakness he could use.

  Nevertheless, he felt his body burn from peering too long into such things. The sheer heat roiling through his body shivered his entire existence.

  Claudius terminated the vision by closing his eyes. As he did so, flickers of a more distant future fluttered past his gaze. Had he not died, he understood this is what he would have seen clearly.

  The only flicker he managed to grasp in his mind was that of a ship, his ship, sailing into a Domain Collapse. It was built to endure one, but only for short periods. However, he saw it dive into the depths and utterly ignore the restrictions upon it.

  With awe, he soon returned to the battlefield against the three. He wished to dwell on that possibility longer, but he couldn’t. Now was not the time.

  He weighed his options. Did he stay here? And fight them further?

  That was not a future he could take.

  Sonna was fighting for her life. And as his favorite amongst Dante’s gathering of nightmares, he couldn’t just leave her to die, much less against Judas. The worst-case scenario was if Judas captured the Inferose.

  Claudius didn’t know why he sensed that. But he did, and he had learned to trust such feelings.

  As such...

  He turned and ran, sprinting toward the Inferose itself and skipping the petals.

  The Judge would climb up and join Sonna’s trial, even if it cost him his life in this sunless realm.

  ************************

  Archimedes stood before the ‘engine’ of the Heron’s Wing. The heart struggled to beat before his gaze. Like that of an exhausted behemoth, it sighed and groaned with each movement.

  The boy found the machinations an equal dose of bewildering and fascinating. His hands moved, testing little tidbits here or there. Then, finally, his palm shifted toward the organ as he built up some confidence.

  His every muscle trembled. Sweat slicked his face and his back, pooling along the blood he had already lost. A quiet voice inside him egged him on and urged him to follow his genius.

  A moment later, a soft, petite hand of bone and sinew pressed against a fatigued heart ten times its size.

  The connection sent a bolt of lightning through Isaac as his back straightened and his eyes lit up. He felt something. It swam within his core, flooding along his veins before ending up on the wire tied around his arm.

  He gazed at Euclid. His vision shook with possibilities as an inkling of his Stigmata entered his mind. The tiny hint bloomed into countless futures as he opened his mouth, “Euclid. I know we share a body... but how about this? I... I think I can put you into this ship. Would you like that? To control your own vessel?”

  Silence reigned for several moments as if the Dirge was considering the offer in deep thought. Time ticked away, gradually shifting into minutes, but just as Archimedes lost his edge, his friend spoke. It was gentle, almost unheard, but it breached its weakness for its companion, “Yes... But... Not... Always...”

  Pythagoras nodded with relief and joy. Euclid didn’t want to leave him, not entirely, at least. That meant they could still work together like they had before.

  Yet it also meant something far grander.

  Archimedes closed his eyes, clenching his right hand around the firm flesh of the beating heart. Then, he latched onto that connection he felt, and the pressure in his arm lessened.

  It lingered as if that was Euclid’s true home, but it no longer hurt. It only stung.

  The boy opened his eyes, his own heart pounding in anticipation. And what he saw brought the most fanatic expression one could imagine. The genius had found his one true calling, the dream he had always held within his core.

  Controlling starships.

  The heart of Heron’s Wing beat with a powerful drum, echoing in his ears and shaking the blood within. All the lights flickered for a second before illuminating again with an even brighter glow.

  Through the connection they had, Archimedes spoke to his sole friend, “How does it feel?”

  “It feels... good. But a... weight... is on... me,” Euclid’s words were slow, unhurried, almost one at a time to complete his sentences. It had improved after the transfer, but it remained difficult to communicate.

  Archimedes pressed his thumb against his cheek as he rushed back to the Skull, shouting in excitement to see what they could do with the ship with such control. His words trailed after him, and Euclid moved to follow him.

  More lights lit up throughout the starship, eradicating the looming sense of disaster. However, when the luminescent streams hit the streaks of blood left on the ship’s metal floors, it dimmed.

  It was almost as if… the Heron’s Wing had grown another heart.