No Rest for the Wicked

Erel’s battered body crashed onto the grass-covered floor, his senses immediately picking up a subtle shift in the air. Not far behind, he heard the sound of Lyra’s feet landing softly beside him. Looking up, he caught sight of the rift behind them sealing shut with a sudden whoosh.
It was otherworldly; the very fabric of reality seemed to knit itself back together. Watching the glowing, rippling plane close, Erel felt something burning deep inside his chest. Yet, it wasn’t pain, it was sustenance, a strange warmth spreading through his core.
‘My core, it’s full.’
As a Seeker, Erel possessed a single core that stored his imaginarium flux, the energy powering his abilities. This core worked as a medium, absorbing imaginarium and turning it into flux whenever he killed entities or managed to rewrite a plane. Each accomplishment filled his core with flux, bringing him closer to ascending to the next tier.
The sensation radiating from within gave him a sense of comfort, a buffer against the pain and turmoil wracking his body and mind.
With a groan, he slowly pushed himself to his feet. The surroundings came into focus, he was back in the deserted grassy clearing near the abandoned town, the same place where they’d first discovered the plane.
Barely an hour had passed since they entered, sunlight still shining down and casting twisted shadows, warped by the lingering influence of imaginarium on the landscape.
Time always flowed differently inside a plane. The rule was simple: more time passed inside than outside. Two days spent within had amounted to little more than an hour in reality. Each plane distorted time in its own way, often influenced by the narrative at its core.
Glancing over, Erel saw Lyra tinkering with the beacon assigned to them, likely signalling for the Concordat’s scheduled pick-up.
She noticed him stirring and reached out a hand to help him up.
“Well done with the Kin in there. I knew you could take it on,” she said, a genuine smile lighting her face.
“But what about the children… th-they-?”
“Sometimes things don’t go our way inside a plane,” she cut in, her tone turning serious and heavy, as if she’d faced something similar herself before. “Don’t blame yourself. We couldn’t have known.”
Trying to change the subject, she pointed towards his torso, “Looks like your core’s full now.”
“Yeah, the trial should be open,” Erel replied. Trials on the anomalite path were infamous for their twisted, personal challenges, each tailored to a person’s myth. There was only one way through: succeed, or risk becoming a fissure. Those with only partial synchronisation to a myth often lost themselves, driven mad by the influence of the imaginarium, as their cores were insufficient to convert all the imaginarium that entered them into flux.
This reality was part of why anomalites were rare. Some feared the trials too much to even attempt them. Others entered and never returned whole.
Accessing a trial meant entering an anomalite’s soul chamber, the part of their soul where they could track their progression with the myth.
Erel remembered his own first trial, the one that had made him an anomalite. It had been gut-wrenching, forcing him to watch his parents die again and again: once in a house fire, once slaughtered by fissures, even torn apart by entities. The only way he had passed was to accept their deaths and walk away, something he’d only managed after seeing it happen a dozen times. Each repetition brought back the memory of the real day they’d smiled at him, right before being overwhelmed by a horde of entities inside that fateful plane.
Knowing exactly what the trials could demand from a person, Erel couldn’t help but feel a chill. Still, he understood it was the only way forward if he wanted to grow stronger.
“You can wait for a while if you want,” Lyra offered, her voice gentle.
He hesitated, considering her words. Part of him wanted to wait, to give his mind a break. The past two months had been relentless: surviving the Bluebeard plane, venturing into breach zones, fighting entities, and now the piper. Each time he saw his death so vividly, it pushed him to the edge, making him long for the safety and comfort of life behind Seoul’s walls. But he knew that wasn’t his reality anymore.
“No, it’s best to get it done as soon as possible. I’ll enter it tonight,” he said, determination settling in his voice.
The beacon pulsed in Lyra’s hand as they waited patiently for the extraction team. The last wisps of imaginarium vanished into the closing crack, the plane shimmering out of existence one last time.
***
“I knew it was right to give the job to you,” Martinez said from nearby, finishing her coffee with a final gulp.
“What was the plane about, though?” she asked, setting her empty cup aside.
“Pied Piper. He’d transformed himself into a child, lured the children away.”
“That sounds rough…” Martinez muttered. As a tier 2 anomalite herself, she was all too familiar with the twisted logic of paradox planes.
“It was actually pretty straightforward. Just had to deal with a few rats, and the piper was just a lower Kin,” Lyra replied casually.
‘Lower Kin… he literally skewered me.’
Erel shivered at Lyra’s nonchalant tone, remembering the two brutal deaths he’d suffered inside the plane.
“What’s next for you?” Martinez inquired.
“Not much. Erel’s ready to ascend, so we’ll probably spend some time around the breach zone,” Lyra answered.
Martinez nodded, rising from her chair. “Well, I’m sure you two are tired. Let me know if you need any more jobs nearby.” With that, she took her leave.
They were sitting in the cafeteria, having just returned. Erel was focused on devouring a pile of eggs, pausing only to wash them down with coffee.
Lyra watched him with open amusement.
“What?” Erel asked, confused, his mouth still full.
“Nothing. I’m just really happy. You’ve grown so much, so quickly. Taking on Kins as a Shaper is way more rare than you think.”
Her amusement faded, replaced by a serious look. She lowered her voice a bit.
“But you don’t have to force yourself so much.”
Erel met her gaze, seeing the worry in her eyes.
“It triggered again during the fight, didn’t it?” Lyra pressed, her tone making it clear he couldn’t avoid the question.
He nodded. Before she could say anything, he added, “It really wasn’t that bad…”
“I’ve practically raised you. I know when you’re lying,” Lyra said with a sigh. “I hate seeing you this way. On one hand, I know it’s necessary. On the other, watching you suffer is… hard.”
“I’m doing this for myself. You haven’t forced anything on me,” Erel replied firmly. “And honestly, it’s only thanks to you that I’ve made it this far.” A small, genuine smile touched his lips.
Lyra propped her chin on her hand, inhaled deeply, and changed the subject. “Alright, new topic! What did you think of your experience in the plane?”
Erel stared at his food, mind swirling with the day’s events.
“I’m not sure. It’s strange. Part of me is glad to be out, but another part wishes I could have done things differently, saved those kids.”
Lyra’s eyes softened.
“What do you think is the role of an anomalite?” she asked, meeting his gaze.
“To protect humanity, I guess.”
“Right. But can you do that if you don’t protect the humanity within you?” she challenged gently, leaning forward.
“I’ve seen firsthand how Imaginarium breaks people. The fact that saving them mattered to you, even when they weren’t real, shows you’re on the right path. Trust me. You can’t blame yourself for what happens inside a plane.”
Her words gave Erel a sense of relief he hadn’t realised he needed. Cyril’s look as the plane dissolved had struck him deeper than he wanted to admit.
“For now, just let those thoughts go. Focus on what’s ahead, the trial.”
When Erel nodded, Lyra continued, “Tier 2 trials are harder than tier 1s. Be careful, but I believe you’ll be fine. I trained you, after all.”
She smiled reassuringly. “And don’t worry. I’ll be out here waiting for you. Just focus on the trial, alright?”
“Thank you, Lyra.”
Lyra stood, motioning for Erel to go. Night was falling, the station gradually emptying as people returned to their quarters.
“I’ll be waiting in my room. Come knock once you’re an Adept,” she said, encouragement clear in her voice, though he could still sense a hint of worry behind it.
Soul trials could seem like months for the challenger, though only minutes passed outside. Knowing Lyra was waiting for him gave Erel a strange comfort.
Giving her one last nod, he headed for his room, steeling himself for the trial ahead.

Chapter end