A spark blossoms in my mind and unfolds into a temporal map.
For the first ti, I have a location. I know exactly where to find an echo of a Trialgoer in the monts before they end. According to the relic, though, I won't have much ti to do it—the closest temporal crossover is going to end in about five minutes.
The good news is that its location isn't very far away at all. It's in the opposite direction of the Fracture, though, southeast of the Cliffside Crows and a fair ways into the nearby desert; according to the Interface's map, there's a sort of hidden cave system tucked into a small outcropping of stone.
That in itself is surprising. The relic claims that this is the last known location of GHO-R7. Ghost, as I know him. I was expecting to find him drifting sowhere in space, not in the middle of so tunnels in the desert. He isn't even very far in—I find him sitting near the exit, dirt and rust gathering on him. His Firmant flickers weakly.
"Ghost?" I ask cautiously.
There's a mont in which I'm worried I'm too late. He doesn't respond imdiately, instead continuing to lie against the stone, optics focused on sothing in the distance.
Then his optics flicker in a blink, and refocus on .
"You are..." He squints. It takes him a mont to place the mory, and then his optics flare in startlent. "Ethan?"
That almost makes stumble. Gheraa catches before I fall, muttering sothing under his breath; Ahkelios just looks curiously between the two of us.
"Am I missing sothing?" he asks. "How do you know him? How does he know you?"
"I t him in one of those Tears in the Sewers," I answer distractedly. That probably doesn't help too much—Ahkelios seems even more confused. In fairness, I'm about as confused as he is. I probably haven't been keeping him as up to date as I could have, though.
Feeling a little guilty about it, I send a quick mory packet through our bond before turning my attention back to Ghost. "You're saying you rember ?"
"It would be difficult to forget the one organic that told the truth about all this," Ghost replies. He slowly pushes himself to his feet, though his joints creak dangerously as he does so. It doesn't look like his body is terribly well maintained. I wonder how far into his loop he is. "Perhaps I should have expected this. Do you simply appear before anyone that wishes for death?"
"Absolutely not," I say flatly. Ghost chuckles, the sound distorted by the age of his parts. "How did this happen to you?"
"I fought a Ti Stitch," Ghost answers with a shrug and a small wince. "They are... unpleasant. Living anomalies that accelerate their victims through ti and feed on the entropic release."
"Ouch." I wince at the idea. That seems even worse than the Ti Flies. I kneel beside him, examining the rust gathering on his plating. "If you don't mind asking..."
Ghost shakes his head, anticipating my question. "I have tried everything I am capable of," he says. "I cannot plunge deeper into the Fracture. I had hoped that my people might be able to mount a rescue with their ships, but that, it seems, is beyond their abilities. Even if they now know where I am, the planet is impenetrable during the Trial, and I cannot survive past Anomaly 006."
"Weren't you able to survive it once?" I ask curiously. From the corner of my eye, I see Ahkelios muttering to himself with a frown; after a mont, he pulls Gheraa aside for a quick, whispered discussion.
"Three tis," Ghost says. "But each ti it triggers, it becos even stronger. It was only barely possible for to live through by the ti you t , and now, even if I attempt to use my temporal skills to skip past it, I am t with a wall of impenetrable force. There is nothing more to be done. Make no mistake, I do not wish to die, but I fear it may be ti to move on."
"Maybe not," I say.
Ghost looks at curiously. "What do you an?"
"You aren't out of solutions." I channel Temporal Link into the palm of my hand. I've only done this once before and I haven't encountered any other temporal crossovers since—but there's no reason this wouldn't work.
Especially with the increased Mastery. It ans I don't need to worry about the Interface influencing him through our link. Still, I hesitate before I use it.
"We're in a temporal crossover event," I say. "Right now, your last loop is overlapping with mine. If you want to, I can use Temporal Link and pluck you out. It'll an so reduction in your abilities, and we're going to be sowhat tied together until you can absorb enough of your Remnants, but it's a chance you won't have otherwise."
"A temporal crossover," Ghost repeats. His face-panels flutter in his bewildernt as he tries to process my words. "The world outside—it is not my Hestia? It is yours?"
"Yes," I say. He tries to take a step and almost imdiately begins to fall—Ahkelios and I dart forward, each one of us slinging an arm around my shoulders. Ghost makes a grateful sort of whirring sound as we carefully lead him out.
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"It is... different," Ghost says slowly, his optics darting across the empty desert. "Where is the river? The... the fish?"
I exchange glances with Ahkelios. "A lot on Hestia has changed," I say, as gently as I can. "Every loop has its consequences. So of those consequences carry forward into the next Trial, and then the next. The planet is dying. I don't an to pressure you, but... we could use your help."
Ghost remains silent for a mont. "Isthanok," he says. "What of Isthanok? Is it still there? I had... There were organics there. That would help ."
"Many of Isthanok's citadels have fallen," I say quietly. "Whisper is dead. Many of her people still live, though."
"Whisper is dead?" Ghost repeats. He sags in our arms. "That is... a relief. She could be cruel. And my friends? He-Who-Wanders, Bimar, little Hakun, vinelady Ausa?"
"I recognize two of those nas," I say carefully. Wander and Bimar were a part of the rebellion that had helped , but the other two nas I don't recognize.
Not entirely, anyway. Ausa's na rings a spark of familiarity, but if it's familiar at all, it's because the na ca up in one of the funerals I attended in the aftermath of the raid. I'm not sure enough to tell that to Ghost, though, and given the tenderness in his voice when he ntioned her na, I can only hope I'm wrong.
"So of them still live," Ghost says. He sounds a little dazed, and I can't bla him. "Then... I will not go. Not if they still require my help. They do require my help, yes?"
I nod. "As I said, the planet is dying. It won't be able to host another Trial. I'm not even sure it can last more than a few weeks. Tears—Temporal anomalies are opening up all over the place, and we don't have enough people to help close them all."
"Then I will help you." Ghost's Firmant slowly begins to brighten again. "I am tired, but... I do not wish to die. Not yet. There is aning that can still be found in my existence."
"Thank you," I tell him. The choice isn't as easy as he makes it sound—I can see the weariness in his Firmant, the way the loops have worn him through. But he's making the choice, here and now, to help where he can.
I reach out with a hand. Temporal Link burns around it like a golden fla, pure, chronal energy radiating off my palm. It's the first ti Temporal Link has ever looked like this—I'm channeling as much Firmant into it as the skill can take, willing the Link to pull as much of Ghost through the rift of ti as it can.
Ghost looks at it for a mont, then grasps my hand firmly. The flas ripple out from my palm and into his body, spreading until his entire being flickers with golden energy. It burns away the dirt, the rust, the age.
I can feel him being pulled through the layers of ti, torn through the loops to join .
And then it ends.
I blink. He hasn't turned into a smaller version of himself. In fact, he's barely shrunk at all, as far as I can tell. He doesn't look like a one-color being of pure Firmant the way Ahkelios did at first, either. There's a faint golden tinge to his body, but he looks... whole.
Well, he has tiny flecks of gold in his Firmant, now, so there's that. He looks down at himself in wonder, even as Ahkelios makes a sound of mock outrage.
"He doesn't even have to turn small?" he grumbles. "That is not fair."
"Don't worry, you're still my favorite," I say, nudging him. He huffs, then turns away, and I pretend I can't see the pleased smile stealing across his face.
Honestly. When did he beco such a goofball?
"Thank you, Ethan," Ghost says. He flexes his fingers in wonder, as if surprised they don't hurt to move, and then slowly straightens to his full height—I think he might be even taller than Guard, now that I look at him properly. "We are... linked. I am using your Firmant to manifest?"
"Sothing like that," I say. He's using less Firmant than I would expect, in all honesty. It's almost like the process was able to give him sothing of a core of his own. Not a complete core by any ans, but enough that he can process and produce so of his own Firmant.
The new level of Mastery ntioned I'd be able to sustain a link at greater distances. I wonder how far that is.
"Ghost," I say. "You said you have organic friends in Isthanok. Why don't you check it out and see if you can clear any Tears in the area?"
Ghost cocks his head curiously. "And what will you be doing?"
"I don't sense any other temporal crossovers," I say, pocketing the crow relic back into my soul. "Either they've all ended or we only get to do one per pri loop. Either way, that ans I need to head back into a dungeon. Seems like a good way to test our effective range."
"You believe this Link can keep manifested through a dinsional rift?" Ghost's optics sparkle with curiosity, and then he grins at . "Very well. I am eager to test this."
With that, he suddenly shoots off toward Isthanok. I stare at the dust he leaves behind for a mont, marveling at the sudden apparent shift in personality.
"You know," I say. "He hides it pretty well, but I think he might be as much of a skill nerd as you are."
"What?" Ahkelios draws himself up to his full height and puffs out his chest. "I am not a skill nerd!"
"You are a little bit of a skill nerd," Gheraa says, amused. Ahkelios glares at us both.
"Traitors," he mutters.
I just smirk and open the gate back into the Empty City. Before we step through, though, Ahkelios stops , glancing at Gheraa as he does so.
"Hey, Ethan," he says quietly. "It's probably not important, but the whole Firmant saturation thing... You rember what I told you about Ritual blowback, right?"
"I've been trying to avoid it, yes," I say. "Why?"
"I wasn't sure, so I checked with Gheraa," he says. "But the blowback severity is based on the level of failure. It usually doesn't matter much—a lot of prerequisites are binary conditions—but this whole Firmant saturation thing... It feels like a trap. More of a trap than usual, I an. It'll be bad enough if you let it hit saturation, but if it goes too far past 100%..."
Sothing in grows cold at the implication. "You think it might be much worse than the usual blowback."
Gheraa nods. "It won't make much of a difference if it's just a bit over," he says. "Not that it would be good. I didn't realize until Ahkelios brought this up, but he's right. The multiplier would scale exponentially past 300% saturation. It might even be enough for the blowback to hit every single ongoing Trial."
There's a long pause.
"Well, then," I say, keeping my tone carefully neutral. "Let's make sure that doesn't happen."
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