Die. Respawn. Repeat.

When we return to the Cliffside Crows, there's a celebration.

It's not that we want a celebration. It's that Tarin and Mari both insist on it, with flailing wings and loud squawks. I think the thing that turns me around on the whole idea is the fact that they've clearly been preparing for this the entire time we were in the Empty City. Tarin hadn't doubted me for a second—the moment we left, he and Mari began the preparations.

"You do this for me," Tarin says, gesturing to Naru. He sleeps in the corner of the hut, chest moving slowly up and down; there's no apparent indication that he's hurt, but I can tell from the feel of his Firmament that he isn't going to be waking up. Not without some soul surgery. "So I do this for you, yes?"

There's something unspoken in his words. He doesn't need to say them for me to understand.

This is a goodbye.

For now, anyway. Until the Trial is over. Tarin isn't going to remember any of the loops after this one, so whatever happens, however much I grow, I'm going to be doing it without him. I'm not even sure if he'll remember this loop. It all depends on how the Interface works out. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

More likely than not, he won't. However the Interface helps us keep our memories, it seems to trigger at the end of each loop; for him to remember, he'd need to have that Interface shard within him when the loop ends. If I'm extracting it and transferring it to Naru, then whatever remains won't hold during the reset.

Unless there's something about the loops I don't understand, of course. For once, I hope there is. I don't want Tarin to lose this final loop.

"Maybe the universe will be kind for once," Ahkelios suggests, nudging me. I smile—I know he's trying to make me feel better.

Maybe it will. Or maybe we'll just have to forge that kindness for ourselves.

Either way, the celebration proceeds with great gusto. The crows all gather to sing songs, to have a feast. For the first time, I'm served with something that isn't just grub and insects—it's a little charred, and they're clearly not used to cooking it, but Mari tells me she hunted a beast down herself and then practiced until what she produced was "decent".

It is, in fact, "decent". Charred and strangely seasoned as it is, it's still the best steak I've ever had. Maybe there's something to that whole thing of putting love into cooking.

Or maybe Mari cheated. There are some suspiciously empty jars scattered around her workstation, and when I ask her about them, all she tells me is that they had "secret ingredients". What that means, I have no idea; Ahkelios tells me there are traces of weird plants in there.

But it's nice. Meeting old friends, being in the village again. It's a reminder of the early loops, of the fact that these crows were the people that took me in and helped me when I barely knew what was going on with the Trials.

Granted, that only happened after their village was nearly destroyed by a Raid, but that's besides the point.

Virin, Rotar, and Akar are there; none of them remember the previous loops, but all of them are friendly. Virin in particular is excited to talk about his progress with imbuement now that I've partially activated one of his stones—he doesn't need me to personally try to activate them now that he's seen an activation for himself, even a partial one.

"I break lots of stones," he confides in me, but he says it as if it's an accomplishment. His daughter giggles, dancing around his legs. There's a fine layer of stone dust I have to assume came from a multitude of failed activations. "But I learn lots! I have stone that grow plant, stone that break plant, stone that summon worm—"

"You have a stone that summons a worm?" I ask, interested despite myself. Not because I have any particular fascination with worms, but because of the similarity with what Novi had told me about summons in First Sky. I don't think I've ever encountered a single summoning skill in all my time as a Trialgoer, but if there are stones that can do it...

"Yes!" Virin nods rapidly, his feathers puffing up with his excitement. And then he pauses in consideration. "I think. Stone explode. Then worm explode."

I snort a half-laugh. It's a little morbid, but at least he's talking about a worm and not something more dangerous. Or more alive. "You should be careful with those," I say. "Don't want to activate something dangerous by accident."

"Ah, you loop! It fine," he says dismissively. I rap him on the head—gently—and make him look at me.

"It is not fine," I say, trying to impress this on him. "The loops aren't always reliable. You do any damage to your Firmament, it's going to last across the loops. Don't play around with things if they could hurt you or your daughter."

I give the smaller crow a significant glance as I say this. Virin doesn't seem all that concerned about his own safety, but the moment I mention his daughter, he looks appropriately chastised; he nods, his enthusiasm falling away for a moment.

"You right," he says. "I... I too excited. I careful."

"At least get Tarin to supervise or something," I suggest mildly. Tarin's speed should be enough to deal with anything that might emerge from these stones—as far as I've seen the skills in them aren't so dangerous they'll need something stronger than him to handle, and anything that is that strong Virin likely wouldn't have enough Firmament to activate.

"Good idea!" Virin's eyes flash suddenly.

I... get the impression I've possibly given him an idea that will lead to a lot of suffering for poor Tarin. Oops. I cough and quickly excuse myself—I don't need him to decide to make me one of his test subjects, too. I'm already documenting the results of all this for him.

Rotar takes me aside, then, to thank me for rescuing him. We're in a quiet corner of the village, away from the festivities; Ahkelios seems to have taken to dancing and making full use of his newfound flexibility, and He-Who-Guards is just sitting nearby and watching while entertaining a crowd of curious crow children.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"I can't remember much about my time in there," he admits. "There are fragments. I remember being scared, and I remember... anger."

"Probably from the first time I tried to pull you out," I say, a little awkwardly. "Didn't know what I was doing then."

Rotar shakes his head. "I wasn't complaining," he says. "I've been trying to work out what I saw before... you know. Before time resets and I lose all my memories of it. I think I have a better idea now, but I'm not sure still..."

He fidgets, full of anxiety. I sit him down, concerned, and take a seat next to him. "What's on your mind?" I prompt.

"You remember why we went to Isthanok in the first place?" Rotar asks. He produces the oracle a moment later—it still warns of danger, of course. But we know the source of that danger now, and oddly enough, Rotar seems a lot more calm now that he knows.

Probably because there isn't that much he can do about it. And probably because he knows I'm working on it. It's an odd thing, being trusted.

"Sure," I say, mostly because Rotar seems to be waiting for me to say more as he gathers the courage to say more. He stares at the glass orb for another minute, still fidgeting.

And then he smashes it, flinching as the glass explodes and cuts into his wing. I blink, startled. My body's reinforced enough now that the glass does nothing to me, but I reach out anyway, automatically weaving a bit of Life Concept and Firmament into the wound.

Just like that, it heals shut. We both stare at each other for a moment.

"...I didn't even know I could do that," I say after a moment.

"Thank you," Rotar says, flustered. "I—sorry, that got away from me. I don't want to panic over it every loop. I don't know if there's a way to stop me, or if maybe I'll remember enough that I won't find it and panic, but..."

"Tarin will remember enough to calm you down, at least," I point out, and that seems to calm him down. He takes a few breaths.

"I... wanted to tell you..." he starts. "I don't remember much, but..."

I wait. Whatever this is, Rotar seems to have a lot of difficulty talking about it; I can sort of sympathize.

"I think the monsters are gonna get worse," he says in a rush. "A lot worse. I can't remember much, but I think—I think I saw the future, somehow? And there was so much wrong, so many... Naru called them Tears?"

"He did," I say quietly.

"They were everywhere," he says. "I don't know if it was a vision or a warning but—if you're going to deal with them—please, there are a lot and I don't think we can handle them on our own—"

He's panicking again, the poor guy. I wave a hand in front of him to catch his attention, because he's staring off at nothing, and then draw his attention back to me.

"Focus on what you can do," I tell him. It's advice that's helped me whenever I've felt like this. "I'll do what I can. I owe the crows a lot, you know? So trust me to handle anything Trial related. In the meantime, maybe there's something you can do to help?"

I say it not because I need his help, but because he need something to focus on. Rotar takes a few more rapid breaths, casting his eyes about, but the thought does seem to steady him; his breathing slows. "I could..." he begins. "I could help Virin with his imbuement stones. That's something that'll help you, right?"

"I think so," I say, giving him an encouraging smile. "Anything else?"

"I think..." Rotar hesitates a bit. "I think I could pinpoint... the... source? I saw a lot of Tears and a lot of monsters, but some of the monsters had places they came from. I don't know if I can do it before this loop ends, but if I can, I can tell Tarin or Naru about them, and... would that help?"

I blink. "That could help a lot, actually," I say. I'm not sure exactly what Rotar's talking about, but I have a few guesses. One of them is that he remembers fragments of Tear locations, and that's almost certainly going to be helpful.

The other is that what he saw was glimpses of Remnants.

I haven't encountered any real Remnants besides Ahkelios, but I know they're out there, based on what the Heart said. The problem has always been that I have no way to search for them. I almost found something last time, when I was diving through Temporal Link and into the blood-specter in the Carusath Tear, but I couldn't quite pinpoint the Remnant before the link expired.

If Rotar caught visions of these Remnants while he was in the Fracture, I might be able to use those visions to find them. He seems encouraged by my response, too—I can already see the resolve firming up in his eyes, the determination.

"Okay," he says. He nods, first to himself and then again to me. "I'll do that then. I'll... I'll probably need a couple of days?"

He says it like a question, like he's asking for permission. I raise an eyebrow. "I'll do my best not to die for a few days," I say dryly.

"That's—that's not what I meant!" he hurries to explain, looking flustered. I laugh and pat him on the head.

"I know what you meant," I say. "You'll probably have time. If anything, you should try not to get blown up helping Virin."

"I don't—that might happen?" Rotar stares at me wide-eyed. "I might just stick to the memories..."

"Might be for the best." I can't deny being a little amused, but Rotar looks like he's feeling a lot better now, at least.

"I'm going to start right now," he decides. "I'll see you later. Enjoy—uh, I hope you enjoy the celebration! Tarin worked hard on it."

"Yeah." I glance back out to the crow village, listen to the sounds of celebration and music and singing, both good and bad. "I know."

It's good to see them enjoying themselves like this. For a moment, I think back to Earth—wonder how everyone else is doing. I wonder if any celebrations have been held recently, if there's anything to celebrate.

I hope so.

"Ethan!" Tarin finds me in the corner and immediately grabs my arm to drag me back to the festivities. "Why you sitting alone! Come join!"

"I was talking to Rotar," I explain, although by this time the other crow is nowhere to be found; Tarin gives me a look that's best described as a mix of affronted and baffled.

"Rotar not here! You come back," he says. I just let him drag me back to it all. I watch Ahkelios grab a half-dozen different crows into dances—he is really enjoying having a new body—and listen as Guard tells stories to crow children. He seems at home with them, with telling stories. In a different life...

What would they have been, if not for the Trials and the Integrators?

I let myself enjoy this. Let the sound of joy wash over me, partake in the food and music. I let Ahkelios drag me into a dance, though he finds out very quickly that I have no sense of rhythm, and then let Guard pull me into a tale as the hero of a story. I almost protest—the thought of being a hero makes me uncomfortable—but I see the shining eyes looking up at me...

I say nothing.

For now, a celebration and a goodbye. Tarin drags me around, introducing me to every crow he can think of, telling me facts about them I'm going to try and probably fail to remember. Mari brags loudly to anyone that will listen about accomplishments she can't possibly remember, most likely from Tarin's tales about our journey.

It feels like a home I haven't had in a long, long time. Not even with my own family.

And soon...

I glance at Tarin's hut, where Naru sleeps.

Soon, I try something I've never tried before.

Soul surgery.