“Whoa, whoa, of course not,” T raised both of his hands, then, he paused for a second, reclining on his seat, then rested his chin on his hand. “I think Vivi would kill me first before that could happen– No, scratch that, I think you’re more familiar with the name Cordis, am I right?”

The three froze.

Cordis, of course, no one standing in that place could forget that name. It was the first person to contact them after the skies cracked, the one who gave them a hope, a mission, and power they all now possess via the Heart Mirror and the Mirror Avatars. A quick glance revealed that he didn’t possess a device attached to his wrist. He was not a Mirror Avatar user.

“I’m not one of the Primeras, and I’m not going to oppose Cordis, for a start,” T declared, his expression resolute. “Besides…”

T manipulated one of his cable-tentacles to separate from the seat behind him, controlling it to slither and extend towards one of Baskerville’s hounds. Without hesitation, the hound ripped it apart with its jaw, tearing the limb from its owner. Glowing blue blood spilled from the wound, then the glow faded, turning into a slick, black liquid, followed by the glow on the severed limb fading away, its power source cut. Izabel noticed that T was hissing in pain right as his limb was severed. He first took a deep breath, steadying his voice, then explained. “I’m not a fighter. Believe me.”

“Change of question then, how did you know about Cordis?” Baskerville asked, still unconvinced.

“Let’s say I’m close, well, was close to her, before a certain incident thanks to  the problem I’m sure we’re all familiar with made me unable to meet her again.” T explained. “Keep one of those beasts nearby, I don’t care, but I’m here to help. I just need you to help me in return.”

Baskerville raised her eyebrow, silently urging him to continue.

“If it’s any help, if you don’t lift the restriction on the spires, I can’t do anything, either. Right now, we have the same objective.” T shrugged. 

As T went back and forth against Baskerville, Izabel spoke in her mind.

“Hunter, what do you think of that T? Do you have any information about him?”

“Unfortunately, I do not recall anything about him. I am as much in the dark about this as you are. I do sense that he is sincere, though.”

“Sense?” Izabel asked.

“It’s nothing as grand or fantastical as you are thinking,” Hunter chided. “It is just a hunch, but most living beings will avoid pain, it is a base command implanted in the very core of their existence. However, in absence of any other way to prove his allegiance, he willingly subjected himself to pain - an excruciating one, if the finer points of his expression earlier is to go by. It is nothing concrete, but at least, his cause is something he was willing to sacrifice himself this much for.”

“This is really… Urgh, if only Adler were here…” Baskerville sighed.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained, I say,” Pestilence spoke up. “I just asked, and my partner could make sure he’s on our side. Hey, T, how do you feel about being disintegrated at the molecular level?”

The question came out of left field, and despite their stance earlier, Izabel and Baskerville couldn’t help but look at Pestilence in shock.

“Well, that’ll be your end if you do anything suspicious, how about that?” Pestilence asked, black cubes spilling out from the sleeves of her clothes, forming a swarm all around her. “I mean, you said that you’re going to help, right? So you shouldn’t really be afraid~”

“Dammit, Vivi, this is why–” T muttered under his breath. “Okay, alright, sure. I do need the help, anyway, just don’t accidentally hit me or something.”

“Nope, nothing of the sort,” Pestilence said with a smile.

“I understand. I’ll take those terms.”

“Then, I’ll take your help. I’m not sure about the favor, though,” Pestilence said,

“Another gamble…” Baskerville muttered. “I swear, Adler would really be handy right about now…”

It was a tempting offer, yet worry still lingered at the back of Izabel’s thoughts. There were numerous ways this could go wrong, and if T has allies or something that they didn’t account for, their end would be swift, their little rebellion crushed into nothing by the flood of false dreams they would drown in, extinguishing their little dissatisfaction and enveloping them in a sea of forced happiness.

In the end, their choice was always either move forward and take risks, or stay where they are, and stumble blind in the dark until something unseen decided to make the choice for them.

With that, Izabel only has one choice.

“I’ll take it, as well, and we’ll return the favor.”

“Hunter!” Baskerville called out. “You don’t even know what favor he’s talking about!”

“I know, Baskerville, but we’re going nowhere, and that needs to change. Pestilence can keep an eye on him, and we’ll tackle the situations as they happen. If you’re worried, too, you can put your hounds to the task.”

“I– Alright, you have a point.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m happy you agreed to give me a chance,” T spoke up. “Thank you for that.”

“... As long as you behave yourself, that is.”

“Yes, I understand,” T replied. “Do what you must.”

–

“Tell me, T, why do we have to go so far from the location of the dome?” Izabel asked.

The four of them was riding on Baskerville’s summoned beasts, Pestilence’s black cube swarm hovering near T. Even though the shadows from the cubes covered the ground they stood on, there was no noise, no wasted movement, no signs of the swarm being alive at all except when their owner decided otherwise. 

“Good observation. First, did you come from a crack in the air? Something like a hole floating on nothing?”

“Hunter,” Baskerville warned.

“We came here from inside the dome,” Izabel said.

“Well, it lies on the principle of which those domes work. You see, they aren’t in the physical reality, but something constructed in the metaphysical gaps of reality. In other words, your domes, and this place, are really in a different dimension, but still occupies the same place… Okay, imagine this. If you dip your clothes in water, the water is in the clothes now, right? It’s there, but the clothes aren’t damaged or changed in a way you can see. Your domes occupies the same space as the water in this analogy.” T explained.

“And how did you know this?” Baskerville asked.

“It’s pretty fascinating how it all works, let’s just say I like learning these things.” T answered.

“That’s not an answer. For all I know, you’re just speaking made-up nonsense while betting on the fact that none of us understands enough to question you.”

“Hey, that’s at least better than ‘I just know’,” T shrugged. “You can either believe me, or not. As long as we both keep our end of the deal– Wait, go there, after that rock pillar, turn to the left.”

Baskerville narrowed her eyes, and Izabel glanced at him. Both noticed the attempt of dodging the question. Izabel glanced at her teammate and shook her head, but the other remained unconvinced, eyeing the strange man.

“Where did you come from?” Izabel asked. Perhaps he would be more willing to divulge something else.

“Outside the domes, I’m here to confirm and fix something, really.” T answered, as cryptic as ever. Aside from the rock pillars and the barren ground, the place was empty, and the answer only gave rise to more questions.

“What is it that you need to fix?”

“All in due time, Hunter.”

Dammit. That was not helpful at all.

“Also, just to warn you. I can’t fight,” T said. “Don’t worry about protecting me, but I can’t help you either.”

“So you have something that hides you from the Primeras,” Baskerville said, “or something to disrupt or disable their tracking system. Considering how deep they are willing to stalk you if they want to, you’re either not much of a threat to them, or you are one so formidable they haven’t gotten you yet.”

For a second, it was quiet, then Baskerville continued.

“I’d say the latter. Remember how thoroughly they track everything even to us, and we were just ordinary inhabitants.”

“I’ll let you come to your own conclusions on that,” T replied, “Oh, stop here.”

They stopped in front of an empty space. Izabel tried to look around as T jumped down from the beast’s back, walking circles around a certain area. The glowing tentacles behind his back was moving around seemingly independent of him, heading to different directions before converging on one spot. Then, T crouched down, sifting on the dirt around the narrow area.

“Izabel?”

“Yes, Hunter?”

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Weren’t you the one who suggested trusting him?” Izabel asked back. “What’s with the sudden—“

“It is not him. There is no time to explain, set the Integrity Number to a higher level. Now!”

Izabel nodded, her fingers twitching on the device. As she did, her appearance was shifting, her hair dyed red at the roots, while some of her remaining brown hair turned white. 

[Mental Integrity Number Distribution]

[70 - 30 (Host)]

“Here it is–”

Before Izabel could process what T was talking about, Izabel felt her hand, the one holding Hunter’s gun, raise upwards. Everyone turned to look, as she fired a ball of blazing energy to the direction behind her. It collided with something, and then, as the flames dispersed, the melted remains of a glass canister and a needle fell to the ground with a distinctive clink.

“The same goal, the same tactics, the same weapon, always. At least tell me, is this part of your spiel about being the Stewards of the Universe?”

The voice that spoke was overlapping, between Izabel and what only the former recognized as Hunter. Right as Izabel was about to ask, she felt Hunter give back control of her body. Even if it was just for a short moment, the feeling of being an observer in her own body was an odd, jarring one.

Even though they were shocked, Baskerville and Pestilence reacted fast, the former summoning her dogs, while the latter gestured for a part of the swarm hovering near T to surround her. She narrowed her eyes at T, intent on directing the remaining swarm to attack him, but T was faster, and even as the swarm tried to strike, they only found nothing, the only evidence of her attempts was how T’s body flickered with each strike in place of wounds.

Without the use of words, Baskerville and Pestilence agreed to talk about what happened later.

T broke the silence and spoke in a relaxed taunt, his voice bearing no trace of hostility.

“I should’ve expected you to arrive first, Hyperion of the Skies… Well, it’s a fifty-fifty split between either you and Theia of the Brilliance, but if they’re the one coming, you’d hear and see them first.”

“Theia suspected the presence of a high-priority target here. It seems that they were right,” Hyperion replied. “Though they didn’t tell me we have rebels here.” 

The word was spoken in disgust, but not one of hostility. More than anything, his tone sounded condescending, more like someone who found out that an animal had an accident on their living space.

“You, in particular,” Hyperion looked at Izabel, “Reminded me of someone from a darker time. A time before our salvation reached as wide as it is now. After we are done, you and your friends will be good and tell us where you get such weapons, will you?”

“Perhaps you meant before your fleets stripped everyone of their selves and desires,” Hunter snarled. “Izabel? Let’s finish this.”

“So, where is Sucellus of the Celebrants?” T asked, not paying any mind to Hyperion’s remark at all. 

Hyperion didn’t reply.

“What? I asked a perfectly valid question.” T said again, his tone still carefree. 

Response came in the form of a chain-like extension shooting towards T’s direction, coming from Hyperion’s claw-like weapon placed on their arm. Right as it hit T, his form flickered, the part of his body bearing the brunt of the attack crumbling into intangible fragments emitting blue static and light before recovering in the span of seconds. He still seemed relaxed, as he spoke to Hyperion again.

“How many times do I need to tell you that you can’t catch me, let alone the others? Not my fault you all were so stubborn about it.”

Hyperion didn’t get a chance to reply, as a shot collided with their head, carving a hole on the pure-white crystalline structure. The gun on Izabel’s hand was glowing with power, already prepared for another shot while the trail of smoke still wafted from the gun’s muzzle, proof that she was responsible for the attack. Within the time it took for Hyperion to stumble back, most of the hole was already recovered, but it was enough, and now, their focus has shifted back to the three.

They didn’t look angry, rather, it was more exasperation. Their attitude only sharpened the pang of being looked down upon, and Izabel gripped her weapon, as if she was trying to absorb strength from the object.

The three glass liquid containers on Hyperion’s back, connected to the claw-like weapon on his hand, started to shift, the three different colors flowing all over the weapon with the aid of veins made of a material similar to glass. They raised the claw, focused at the other three as T’s form destabilized once again from the act of pulling out the chain.

“It seems that the untamed inhabitants of this world need to be taught a lesson.”