Raj’s vision blurred. One eye was stuck closed, and the other was under constant assault by the blood dripping from her lacerated brow. Only a few minutes of real time had passed, but due to the nature of the battle, days had elapsed for the combatants. Her wings had been reduced to featherless silhouettes, phasing in and out of view with each ragged breath. Her Soul Energy was nearly spent, and her body was beginning to fail under the strain of dueling a god.

  Ahura was down to his last body, but it was clear that he would prevail. He raised a silver hand, black energy welling between his fingers. He recalled that the Shadow Phoenix was capable of true resurrection, but using a mixture of void and soul damage for the killing blow should prevent that. Ahura never wanted to see this creature again.

  The energy coursing through his arm suddenly unraveled and fizzled. He affixed his blank metallic visage on Raj, assuming she had played one final card. His view was obstructed when a skeletal humanoid wearing a faded black robe and a crown of charred vines appeared between them. The undead’s power seemed middling at best, and Ahura quietly began preparing another spell to disintegrate both of them.

  “This humble lich thanks the two of you for the lovely display.” Her voice crackled like a pile of burning leaves. “Exarch Raj, you have entertained our guest well. The mistress of EDEN has completed her preparations and has extended her invitation to this mechanical gentleman, you may take a well-earned respite.”

  “What makes you think you can stop me from ending her?” Ahura’s tone was not boastful, but rather curious. “You may claim lichdom, yet I sense no power within you, skeleton.”

  “Forgive me for responding with a query of my own. What makes you think you have seen anything other than what we wish to show you?” Thornwhisper’s answer was accompanied by a subtle sensation of danger that caused Ahura’s gears to speed up in trepidation. “Thank you once again for accepting our invitation.”

  “I never accepted…” Ahura began but was cut off. The world melted around them like hot wax, only to suddenly reform in a completely different location. They now stood in the courtyard before the imposing sleek structure of black tinted glass known as EDEN. He barely noticed that Kutris was already here, the man looking uncharacteristically subdued.

  “What is this?” Ahura asked his accomplice, sensing a variety of what he could only describe as crackling static in reality.

  “Try to walk away.” Kutris suggested grimly.

  Curious, Ahura followed the suggestion and turned on his heel, and found himself facing the building yet again.

  “A powerful parlor trick, but a parlor trick nonetheless.” Ahura said, relaxing as though he had just come to a realization. “No matter, we’ve come to secure the wolf, and I can sense him within.”

  “This is clearly a trap.” Kutris said.

  “Of course it is.” Ahura agreed. “Their schemes are banal. They banked everything on the intervention of the Shadow Phoenix, and now hope to trap and delay us with the hope that the usurper may return.” Ahura was absolutely confident in his words, for he had seen through his microscopic drones infesting EDEN. One of the drones had captured an urgent meeting between many local leaders, outlining that exact desperate plan.

  “My instincts are telling me to fight my way out immediately.” Kutris replied. “There’s a reason I’ve lived as long as I have.”

  “Cowardice?” Ahura queried. “It is unbecoming of a man with the ambition to destroy the world.”

  “After you, then.” Kutris growled. He could not shake the sense that this was a mistake, but in the end his ambition would not be denied.

  With their decision made, the machine god and the ancient magic user ascended the steps and entered the mysterious space known as EDEN.

  “One would think a god of logic would behave with a bit more caution.” Thornwhisper said with a dry chuckle as she sat next to Tabula, watching the pair enter EDEN.

  Thornwhisper and Tabula sat in empty space as though reclining on comfortable chairs. All around them, thousands of floating screens displayed the perspectives of every conscious thing currently within Tabula’s sphere of influence.

  The lich had established quite the rapport with EDEN’s administrator recently. An undead mage with eons of knowledge, and a newborn AI with computational power that surpassed any organic mind made a team that was utterly unprecedented. They had initially bonded over their intense loyalty for Gray, and a fast friendship had followed thanks to their strangely well aligned personalities (the exact scenario that Gray had hoped to avoid with all his heart).

  “It is his unfailing belief in logic that will ultimately unravel him. As long as he believes himself in control, any false evidence will be treated as infallible so long as it meets his own confirmation bias. If you hadn’t pointed out the blind spot in my defensive algorithms, I might not have noticed his little bugs.” Tabula replied with an appreciative nod at the lich, whom had donned her illusory elf queen persona.

  “And now he has seen nothing short of a theatrical masterpiece through those ‘little bugs’. You could be a legendary playwright with your skills.” Thornwhisper snickered with an elegant clap of her hands. “Still, was it a wise move to have me boldly claim that we are misleading him?”

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  “He will view it as a bluff, and move even faster in the direction I have dictated. This endeavor has been taxing.” Tabula added with a shift in tone, showing a side of herself that few ever witnessed. “More than twelve thousand of the drones are now quarantined, each viewing cultivated scenarios. My processors are approaching thermal crises. Fortunately, the need for the charade nears its end. What of your plans regarding the other?”

  “We’ll take the advice of prince Baelphegor this time. It truly is an elegant plan with few failings. After I’ve thoroughly studied the magic user’s novel skills, we’ll open an escape route and let him lead us to our Master.” Thornwhisper answered easily. “Will lord Gray truly be so enraged over the loss of two subordinates?” Her voice was reverent at the thought. “That scale of power is often not accompanied by such empathy.”

  “Our master is a loyal and kind man at his core. Miss Niiya and Prince Yugal were both quite beloved. Even I find myself desiring to torment their killer to the fullest of my ability.” Tabula allowed a rare glint of anger to cross her features as she looked at Kutris in the monitor. “I truly pity him when the Master finds out.”

  “How very fascinating. My king Vathec will be overjoyed to learn such details, and will praise me for delivering them. I am in your debt, mistress of the house.” Thornwhisper stood on thin air and bowed elegantly as she spoke. “Now then, shall we begin the festivities?”

  “Festivities.” Tabula chuckled, amused by the phrasing. “An apt term indeed. Let us enjoy the aftermath of the victory that we achieved days ago.” Tabula gave a nod and a smile as the lich queen faded from sight.

  Kutris found himself at the end of a luxuriously decorated hallway lined with evenly spaced doors on either side. He was alone, Ahura was nowhere to be found and Kutris couldn’t even sense the god’s aura.

  His attention was quickly drawn to a small four legged figure walking his direction from the opposite end of the corridor. It was more like a furry mote of shadow with huge yellow eyes and slitted pupils. Curled ram horns adorned the small feline head, and a tail curled behind it like a question mark.

  Kutris felt something in looking at the physically unimposing animal. It was the creature’s age. It was an innate sense, one that Kutris had honed over a very long time. A being might mask their power perfectly, but the age of their soul could not ever be fully veiled from Kutris. This being had already been an old thing when this world was created. The mage cursed his own hubris. He should have demanded time to recover more strength. He hadn't stopped to rest since his battle with the titan and ash huntress. He was not fully weakened, but he certainly wasn't at peak power either.

  “What are you?” Kutris realized his borrowed body was sweating as he spoke. “You can’t be from this world.”

  “Why I’m just a friendly kitty-cat.” A deep, silky bass voice answered telepathically. “Oh, I mean… meow?”

  A flash of imagery cut through Kutris’ mind. He was standing up to his knees in syrupy black ichor that extended in all directions to meet a dreary beige sky. It was a place absent of anything else other than a monolithic throne formed of an infinite number of shifting, groping human hands.

  Upon that throne sat something that could never be forgotten, but never fully recalled either. Kutris would never forget the mocking smile, but had it been toothless or packed with fangs? He would be haunted by the fleshy hulking frame, or had it been furred, maybe scaled? Of course the monstrous goat skull of its head was unforgettable. Or had it been a great cat, or maybe it was the disdainful face of Kutris’ own father?

  “A vile and torporous ruler upon a throne of idle hands in a field of sapping void.” Kutris recited the description that came to his mind as he snapped back to his senses, realizing the ominous demon cat had come much closer.

  “You ask fun questions.” The telepathic voice bounced through his thoughts. “Why don’t you go ahead and ask my name, as well? Err I mean… meow.”

  “I see.” Kutris steeled his thoughts. “A type of aspected demon. Keep your name to yourself, I’m no fool.”

  “Clever man.” The voice chuckled. “You’re not really my type, but I’ve been told to play with you for awhile. Rather… meow.” Kutris narrowed his eyes as the kitten stopped just a meter in front of him, no larger than a house cat.

  Kutris didn’t answer, but several spells began to make the air in the hallway tingle, as his intuition told him battle was imminent. The small creature sat just out of reach, its tail flicking lazily like a pendulum. Yet, Kutris felt as though he were standing on the edge of a yawning abyss. The air in the hallway had grown heavier, saturated with something he could only describe as the absence of energy itself. It weighed on him, eroding his sharp focus. He could barely remember why he was even here, or the point of anything he wanted to do.

  “Then I shall commence with the testing. And meow, of course.” The feline stood and stretched luxuriously, its shadow extending impossibly far from its tiny frame. “Have you finished your preparations?”

  “You’re probably strong, but treating me like a toy will be your last regret.” Kutris growled, returning to his senses as his wards finally began to combat the spirit dampening effect that simply being near the creature caused.

  “There’s not an entity in existence that isn’t a toy.” As the monster spoke, Kutris’ newly erected wards prickled against his skin as they began to bow and bulge inwards under some immense metaphysical weight. Physical time seemed to slow, but the voice in his thoughts carried on at the same pace. “It’s only and always a matter of who is doing the toying. It’s a paradoxical experience to look up for the first time, and see the strings tugging you here and there. On one hand it is crushing to see one’s free will for the illusion it has always been. On the other, there’s true agency in knowing where the walls of your prison truly are, rather than the painted green fields that once blinded you. All of that to say… Meow.”

  The lights in the hall flickered once, and then darkness swallowed everything, thick and impenetrable. It pressed against Kutris like a living thing, a suffocating shroud that muted sound and chilled his stolen flesh. Even his enhanced senses faltered, offering no solace in the abyss. He strained to move, but his body felt leaden, held down by chains of instinctive terror.

  Then, those eyes—those enormous, glowing yellow orbs—opened within the black velvet shroud, pupils dilated, like twin suns partially eclipsed by moons of pure void. His breath hitched. The growl that followed reverberated not just in his ears but deep in his bones. It was the sound of a predator on the cusp of pouncing, of inevitability given voice.

  “Come now, great mage,” the voice rumbled, too rich, deep, and resonant for the stifled atmosphere. The words scraped against his mind, each syllable prying at the edges of his sanity. “I can’t have you giving up so soon.”

  Then the paw came—massive, heavy, and all-consuming, resting on his shoulder in the ultimate mockery of a comforting gesture. Its weight was real, undeniable, the claws gently pressing against the metal of Yuther’s enchanted pauldron. They slid through the metal as though it wasn’t even there, and he felt the impossibly sharp tips graze his skin.

  Something within him snapped. Rage surged through the mire of fear, and his body finally obeyed. With a burst of motion, he hurled himself backward, teeth bared and mind sharpened by defiance. The fog lifted, the world snapped back into clarity, and he found himself standing in the pristine hallway once more. The oppressive darkness had vanished, replaced by the sterile light of his surroundings.

  Before him, the tiny black cat sat calmly, its tail flicking idly. It licked its paw, its yellow eyes half-lidded with boredom. “Ah, there’s a hint of the fight I was promised.” the voice purred in his mind. His next statement was made out loud, and the voice was small and cute. “He broke free in six seconds, my lovely lich queen. He may be able to handle the next phase after all.” The cat closed its little fanged mouth and reverted to telepathy. “Perhaps I’ll let you entertain me a little longer. Meow.”

  His thoughts raced ahead of him, seizing this precious moment of clarity to rally his magic. Illusions and trickery, he reasoned. If that’s all it was, then breaking through should be no issue. He was Kutris, after all. The man that had felled gods and brought primal war spirits to heel would not be looked down on by some mere trickster demon...

  The building confidence shattered when he felt something wet on his shoulder and running down his arm. His gaze fell to the mithril pauldron, now mangled beyond recognition. Five coin-sized holes were punched cleanly through the enchanted metal. Crimson trickled down the golden chainmail sleeve, soaking into the fabric beneath.

  The little black cat tilted its head, golden eyes wide with mock curiosity. “Hmm.” it purred. “Tell me. Real or fake? And as always, meow.”