Octavia knew he was out there.

  The woman stood kneeling in the kitchen of a small cabin, erected on the borders of Gold’s Bane. On a flat stretch of land outside of their rebellion’s base, the Carpentry Clan had created a small outpost for victims of war. It was inhabited by asylum seekers, fleeing from cities and other settlements as the Paladins began to strike globally. Small hamlets, villages, and anyplace that lacked organised defences had swiftly been crushed. It was either to join Enos and his sick cause, or be flattened in the wake of his devastation. And if you refused both options, well, the Talents of the Future could only provide so much help.

  Many of these kinds of people in fighting shape had joined the rebellion directly, bolstering their body of soldiers. The people who resided here were either too ill to fight, too young, or faced unfortunate circumstances that demanded their attention elsewhere. An example were the children Octavia now held tightly in her arms, pressed close to her chest as she scanned around with her spiritual senses. Their mother was out there. Fighting for the safety of her seven children, as the worst case scenario played out before them. The woman hadn’t been able to fight previously, for the need of looking after her kin, but with Ash knocking at their door, that was all thrown out of the window. Leaving your seven children alone here to hide wasn’t the greatest circumstance to be in, but times were tough, and most people were left with little option but to do the hard things. No matter how cruel.

  The Talents had originally kept the refugees here in good faith. The rebellion had placed so many wards of protection upon Gold’s Bane. Visual illusions, techniques of invisibility, abilities that should have eradicated even the scent of the place from anyone who wasn’t approved. Now, somehow, Octavia had to wonder if these people would have been better off fleeing elsewhere.

  The stench of the Unbounded was unmistakable. Octavia wrinkled her nose at the smell of it. Worse than rotten flesh.

  “Where’s mommy?” The small thing in her arms asked.

  “Don’t worry sweetheart, it’s all going to be alright.” Octavia lullaby-whispered. “Mommy is fighting out there, you see? She’ll be alright, don’t worry.”

  Six other children, all huddled behind and around Octavia, shifted nervously, glancing at her from the corners of their eyes. The eldest of them, a girl eleven years of age, visibly trembled. Perhaps she was wise enough to see how shallow Octavia’s promises were.

  The sound of the sky tearing itself into little pieces shook the building’s foundations. The poor souls squirmed. Octavia clutched them a little tighter, staring daggers into the front door of the cabin.

  It rattled.

  It’s just the chaos of everything outside, that’s all. Octavia reasoned. If not for herself, she had to keep a level-head for the tiny lives that now relied on her. Where on Descent is Veida?

  As soon as the fighting had broken out, Veida and Octavia had been hit with the same idea. The rebellion, as amateur as many of them were, was made up of combat-trained men and women. They had been preparing for battle day in, day out, for Passings now. But the ability to defend oneself was not a universal privilege. Being able to fight, to protect you and your loved ones, was a blessing far too many took for granted.

  The refugees, the ones that were too young, ill, or misfortuned to pick up a sword, needed help more than anyone else right now. Veida and Octavia had successfully led many of the refugees down a discreet passage away from Gold’s Bane, and the dark cloud that had befallen it. Many licks of flame and sprawling patterns of web should have provided enough coverage to give them a fighting chance at making it. It wasn’t much, but it was the most they could hope to provide on such short notice.

  There weren't many people left to save. Yet, alas, their time had run too thin.

  That man was out there. The broken shard of darkness and spite, the one that so despised her husband.

  Ash.

  “Don’t try to hide from me, Octavia.”

  She flinched at the cut-throat sound of his voice. The children who weren’t already crying erupted into waterworks. Octavia put a finger to her lips, shushing them. It was a small cruelty to deny their shrieks — their fear — when it was all they had left. Octavia dimmed her Mark to prevent it from being picked up by Ash’s own spiritual senses.

  She bit down on her lip until it bled. How pathetic. She could do nothing for these children but pray.

  Octavia was a capable woman: she prided herself on that fact. But the man who was her brother-in-law, who Koa once spoke so highly of, was not the same figure that stalked them now. Juniper had somehow convinced Koa that his brother was still in there somewhere. She had heard stories of Ash from her husband on several occasions, recounting how the boy had acted before the confusion, loathing, and searing hatred had all consumed him.

  And back before Enos had dug his teeth into Ash’s malleable brain.

  By all accounts, Ash had been lazy, despicable, and an absolute brat in every definition of the word.

  Yet terrorising the truly helpless . . . Octavia could not imagine the Ash she had heard so much about stooping that low.

  The demon in waiting, outside their cabins at that very moment, was not Ash. It was a vessel of Enos. A vessel of the strongest Unbounded to ever tyrannise Descent.

  Octavia was capable alright. But she was a Foot-Soldier. Who knew what Rank of power Ash could now rival? The floodgates had opened. She had seen his new cosmic form from afar when the fiend had first arrived at Gold’s Bane.

  And to tell you the truth? It made the hairs at the back of her neck stand up.

  “When I first heard that you had taken my brother’s hand in marriage, I’ll tell you the truth: I don’t think anything on this earth has made me more disgusted.”

  An explosion in the middle-distance elicited a jolt from all seven children. Octavia put a hand on the youngest's mouth, who had completely lost it. They continued to scream and shake against her hold, even as Octavia’s fingers muffled the sound of it.

  Like a hammer smacking against an anvil over and over again, Octavia's ears perked at the sound of footsteps.

  Too close!

  If Octavia fought against Ash, and if she lost . . . she didn’t want to consider that reality. But it was becoming more real with every passing second. With each trudge closer to her cabin’s door that fiend made.

  “I’ll tell you the truth, Octavia. I want to hurt that man. I want to see him cry and twist in my hold as I tear away everything he holds dear, right from his trembling fingers.”

  Another explosion.

  “Why must you all resist, really?” Ash’s voice boomed to the rooftops. “I know you’ve realised how futile the Celestial War is. How meaningless the gods’ petty disputes really are. You’re not stupid, so you must understand that.”

  Octavia wanted nothing more than for Ash to shut his trap.

  “We were plucked out of the womb of creation for greed! For selfishness. The Unbounded do nothing but free us from the chains that shackle us. The chains of godhood that humanity insists on wearing. Think about it – once the gods are destroyed, we’ll finally be free! Free to live as we see fit.”

  The interior was completely silent now. Octavia could hear the movement of air in and out of her lungs, feel the expanse of the building seeming to close in on her. Those walls felt as petrified as she did. They waited anxiously for Ash to blast them into shrapnel. All of the Carpentry Clan’s tireless work, blown into pieces, as if by nothing more than a stray gust of wind.

  “I want the best for humanity, I’m not the bad guy here! Your whole sense of morality is upside down!” Mania leaked into the boy’s quivering voice. “The gods want you to stab, and shred, and rip each other apart for their petty wars! Violence for an empty means. The Paladins kill with a cause, with a passion! It’s an art; there’s a purpose to it.”

  Octavia couldn’t stop shaking. To have to hide repulsed her. She was a woman of action, of fiery doing. Her eyes locked with each of the young boys and girls in turn. They had barely lived. Such a miserable existence. The bud of the flower snubbed before it could ever bloom.

  Was this the best she could do for these children? To sit quietly and die first, so they could latch onto a few measly, extra seconds of life? She should have been ashamed of herself. That was not how the Arachnid Clan had raised her. They were warriors! The eight arms that extended out of her back made Octavia look like a monster built for war. Yet she acted like the meekest bug.

  Koa may have called her pretty, or beautiful, or any number of banalites, but Octavia knew what she was. And she was proud of it, god damn it! Children from other clans would take one glance at her and burst into tears.

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  But these seven children huddling next to Octavia now, clinging onto her with their little fingers, had something far scarier out there to be fearful of.

  To see someone as strange and as frightening as Octavia for the first time, and to immediately trust them with your safety: it was not something to be overlooked. These children were so brave.

  There was no getting around it. Veida was not coming to save them. She was likely overwhelmed herself, leading another batch of refugees far away from where any Paladins could hurt them.

  There was a decision to be made. The cost of a life, evaluated in as little as a second.

  She made up her mind.

  Octavia grasped the shoulders gently of the eldest daughter, moving slowly so as not to alarm her.

  “There’s a back door leading away from here. Your mother hid the key underneath the mat. Do you think-” hesitation was a stone lodged into Octavia’s throat, making her choke. Gods, she was asking so much of a child, but what other option was there? The Arachnid Clan were a tough lot, and their teachings had not failed Octavia yet.

  Sometimes in life, there were no good options. But that didn’t mean you threw out the towel. It meant you gritted your teeth and carried on, enduring the hardship. It was the Arachnid Clan way.

  The loudest bang yet. Even Octavia winced at the ear-splitting noise. There wasn’t any time.

  “Do you know the way out of here?”

  The girl hesitated for a second. Then she nodded.

  “Can I trust you to lead your siblings that way?”

  Her eyes widened. She was scared. Fear was like a bucket of paint splattered over the girl. You could see it in the way she didn’t quite meet Octavia’s eyes when speaking o her. In the way she shifted her weight from foot to foot, dancing the signature waltz of anxiety.

  Octavia crouched down, ruffling a hand through the child’s hair. “I know you’re scared. Want to know a secret?”

  Octavia leaned in closer, cupping her mouth. “I’m scared too.”

  “You’re making me do this Octavia! You made me kill these people!”

  The children squirmed.

  “Shush, shush. It’ll be alright.” Octavia turned back to the eldest daughter. It was a terrible thing to expect so much of her. She really was despicable. “People who aren’t scared are foolish. Stupid. Fear is good. Fear is what has kept humanity alive so long. But I want you to use that adrenaline. I want you to be brave for your mommy and me, and run as fast as you can. Don’t stop running until you reach the rest of your people who lived here. There’s a woman not far away. A very strong woman like your mother, called Veida. She’ll take you someplace safe. I promise. Okay?”

  For the first time, the girl met Octavia’s gaze head-on. “What about you?”

  “Me?” Octavia forced a smile, as if nothing in the world could hurt her. “I’m going to be brave too.”

  Footsteps. Closer than ever.

  “Go. Go!” She flicked her hands, turning to the rest of the children. “Everything’s going to be okay! Follow your sister! Go!”

  The children fled. Octavia watched them pass with a sad smile. Then, after maybe twenty seconds, she did something incredibly stupid.

  She activated her Mark to its full power.

  Like blazing a spotlight on herself, Octavia made it easy for Ash.

  Come. Octavia shot out wisps of thread, anchoring herself to the walls she knew would be undone any second now. I’m right here Ash. I’m right here!

  The right wall of the building was encased in white light.

  Octavia’s body was sent flying to the ground. The bone of her cheek smashed against the leg of the table, tearing it off in the process. She hardly had time to look up before he was there, looming over her.

  Ash’s jet black hair fell messily down to his shoulders, not having been cut for Passings. It was just one small sign of his possession, but the real giveaway was the flickering canvas of space covering his skin. Octavia took one look at the artwork of orbiting planets, distant blinking stars, and interstellar business, and had never felt more tiny.

  From out of the palm of her hand, a line of Supreme Steel silk zipped outwards. Ash didn’t bother to parry the attack, simply taking one lazy step to the side.

  Was she always this slow, or was Ash insanely fast?

  Octavia felt her back pressing into the cabin’s wall, wincing at the sudden chill touch of Ash’s fingers, as they grappled against her throat.

  “I wish Koa was here to see this.” He whispered, a manic mirth to his words. Her windpipe was completely restricted, and despite Octavia’s attempts to swat uselessly at Ash’s hold, it was no use.

  She could only think of the children. It had barely been a minute, and she was already on the verge of death. How much time could she hope to give them?

  “Look at me.”

  If they died, if she couldn’t buy them enough time, and Ash found them mid-escape-

  “Look at me!”

  Octavia locked eyes with Ash. Hatred was a tangible thread anchoring them to each other. There was no sound other than their breathing, and the distant crackling of flame. If Octavia didn’t think too hard, the mild prickling could be as innocuous as a lit hearth. Simply someone lighting their fireplace, and not a funeral pyre the size of a hamlet. She could always pretend that everything was going to be okay. To delude herself, so that the last few moments before her world was swallowed up by darkness wouldn't be quite so unpleasant.

  But doing so would make her a coward. She had to face reality.

  “Today is the day that I reveal what the Talents of the Future really are.” Ash said quietly. “Nothing more than the eccentric fantasies of a man who doesn’t know his place in this world. Edmar and I have some common goals, you see. I despise Koa, and he despises Remus! A match made in heaven, don’t you think?”

  Ash’s eyes kept twitching to the side, his lips quivering like he wasn’t quite sure if he believed the words he was saying. Octavia could hardly focus on anything but the bruises forming across her compressed throat, the asphyxiation dragging the life out of her. But she could see the uncertainty in the creases of Ash’s face. Like the mask of Enos was growing thin in places, the small boy underneath showing through.

  His hold against Octavia loosened, but only slightly. “With you dead, he’ll finally know what a putrid failure he is. I land on top! Elmore always favoured him – thought that I was good for nothing – and I grew lazy! I allowed Koa to outdo me, but never again. He’ll take one look the corpse of the ugly thing he called his wife, and he’ll know-”

  His words were cut off by a dozen strings of Supreme Steel flinging into Ash at once. Ash may have been faster than Octavia, but the element of surprise was a hefty advantage. Ichor splattered across the room and Octavia commanded the strings to pull Ash back. Back, back, back! She slumped to the floor, hands on her sore throat, gasping for air, and worried for a second that she still couldn’t breathe. When her lungs expanded with a newfound fullness, she wept from relief.

  Golden blood. Always to be overlooked at the scene of a fight, and probably not something she should be taking notice of, especially after narrowly escaping death. But it revealed much.

  As much as Enos had distorted him, bent his mind into a hideous new shape, ravaged his spirit, Ash was still mortal. Irrefutably human.

  At that moment, Octavia felt all her pent-up resentment for the man slip away. She was no longer afraid of the poor thing before her, for she realised the essential truth.

  He was just another victim in all this.

  But that didn’t excuse his actions either.

  Octavia centred all of the atmospheric Infinity in the room and on her person, channelling each particle of divine essence into empowering her metallic strings. Fresh rivers of golden lifeforce flooded out of the man, who howled and writhed against the confines.

  “I don’t know you Ash.” She croaked, the words a thin rasp through her abused throat. “But I know what you’re not! You’re not a monster, you’re not a fiend like Enos is trying to make you believe. And whilst I have no reason to believe it, I feel it in my heart that you’re not a bad person. You’re a boy. A little scared boy!”

  “No!” Ash jerked harshly to the side, undoing one of her strands. The rest wouldn’t hold much longer, and it was taking all of Octavia’s concentration just to maintain them. She didn’t have long, but in whatever time she did have left, Octavia had a few things to say.

  “Enos has coerced you, don’t you see it? I know the authentic you falters at the blood dripping from your hands; at the awful things you’ve found yourself capable of.”

  “You don’t know . . .” There was a squelch, and two more strings snapped, as Ash twisted at an angle. “Anything.”

  “I know what’s plainly apparent!” Octavia’s trachea protested against the screaming, but he wasn’t listening. “I want you to know Ash, after you finally snap back to your senses . . . that I forgive you.”

  For half a second, Ash ceased to struggle. His face softened, his tensed muscles relaxed, and for the faintest instance, the darkness of his new form began to withdraw.

  “Do you . . . “ his voice lost all of its ferocity, and he tilted his head at an angle. “Really mean that?”

  “Yes. I forgive you Ash for what you’re about to do. I hate you for it, but I forgive you.”

  Ash paused again, the pale pallor of his face returning. Octavia watched, amazed, as the cosmic canvas crept away from his nape, down to his exposed chest, and-

  The final strands of her webbing were undone. Octavia blinked, and Koa’s demonic form had returned in full.

  Before she could blink again, two of her tendrils were missing.

  She screamed out, bloody stumps all that were left of her legs.

  A wall of stone flew into her. Or, more accurately, she was thrown against it. The dislodged material crushed the bones of Octavia’s spine, and it was with a gurgle of noise that she was sent blasting through the house opposite.

  Ash was upon her, carrying her through the air, grabbing her by the throat as they smashed through wall after wall after wall. Octavia’s body absorbed it all, and, like she had known from the beginning, it dawned on Octavia that she was going to die.

  You were right, Koa. She suddenly thought, her face a bloody mess of scrunched up features. I saw him. Ash. he’s in there. It was only for a second, but you can bring him back.

  Octavia vaguely recognised the fact she was buried under a pile of rubble. At the brink of her own demise, her spiritual senses had never felt more acute. She dimly felt Ash some distance away, looking at the blood that now draped him, and screaming bloody murder.

  Bring him back, my love. Octavia felt her senses now becoming null, as if the earth was pulling itself out of her reach. If you bring him back, maybe – just maybe – I’ll have helped to save one more child.