Die. Respawn. Repeat.

To my surprise, that hole in reality seals shut behind us. Even with my Firmament sense extended as far as I can handle, there's no hint of the Fracture, no hint of the seething mass of time we just left behind. I don't know if that means the hole has somehow permanently sealed itself—although I very much doubt that—or if it's changed locations in some way, but I'm willing to bet it's the latter.

Either way, it means that whoever Teluwat and Rhoran sent after us has no chance of following us here.

...Somewhat less encouraging is that we don't have a way back. I have no idea where we are.

"Uh, Ethan?" Ahkelios sounds oddly excited, considering the situation. I follow his gaze to what looks like the sky above, then frown a little—the perspective is a little odd, almost like it's just painted onto a ceiling... "Ethan, I think we're in Inveria!"

Right. That... makes a lot of sense. Scratch that, then: I don't know when we are, because this isn't Hestia as I know it.

The Firmament around us is entirely different, for one thing.

My Trial was the 307th Trial set on Hestia. The 307th instance of some individual plucked from their homes and sent to live through an endless, looping reality. It's not something I've spent a lot of time thinking about, but the endless Trials must have done something beyond just creating all those Tears and Remnants. Something like change the nature of the ambient Firmament on the planet itself.

The kind that surrounds us is fundamentally different. I had no idea that Firmament could feel this... peaceful.

It's not perfect, of course. I'm almost certain that however far back in time we've been thrown, this is still during one of the Trials—I can still feel the noise in the Firmament that surrounds us like a quiet, rippling disturbance. It's just a lot calmer than it ever was during my own Trial. Even in the Empty City, there was a sort of static that permeated everything, presumably from the temporal barrier extended around me.

Right now, that static feels like the kind that comes from a white noise machine rather than someone endlessly drilling into their apartment one floor above. The difference is stark enough to throw into sharp contrast the real state of the planet.

The Heart must be on her last legs at this point. How many more Trials or loops can she withstand?

"I will admit," Gheraa says slowly. "I had not realized that things had gotten quite that severe on Hestia."

"You didn't realize the difference when you were brought back?" I ask.

Gheraa clears his throat and studiously avoids my gaze. "I assumed it was a result of the impurities of Trial worlds. Which was a poor assumption, I now realize."

"Do the Integrators have a particular obsession with purity?"

"Some of them." Gheraa grimaces. "It's one of the reasons we're told not to visit the Trials."

"Right." I leave it alone—it's not the first time he's had to question the doctrine he's been given, and we've been through this enough times that I know he'll approach me later if there's anything he wants to talk about.

Instead, I turn to Guard, who's the only one that's been silent through all this. He's just staring up at the painted ceiling, his expression somewhere between lost and contemplative; I reach up to put a hand on his shoulder, startling him enough that his system lights flare bright with shock.

"Ethan," he says, trying to recover. "What is it?"

"Are you alright?" I ask. "I know we were just talking about this..."

Guard hesitates, then nods jerkily. "Yes," he says. Then he shakes his head. "No." He pauses. "I am uncertain. But I would like to..."

He gestures, not quite able to finish his sentence. I get the gist of what he's saying: there's something he wants to check on. "We'll come with you," I offer, and he nods in appreciation.

I let him lead us once more through Inveria's tunnels, my mind already analyzing the situation we're in. As far as I can tell, we're stuck here for the time being.

The only question is: why?

Time and space on Hestia has been slowly tearing itself apart because of all the loops. There's no greater evidence of that than the Fracture's explosion rupturing the planet at the end of each loop, but even outside of that, the Tears opening all throughout the planet are ample evidence on their own. Each Tear is caused by repetition or tragedy working itself into the fabric of reality.

This anomaly is different. Someone did this with intent—opened a hole in time to lead to this exact place and this exact moment.

That someone has to be someone like me and Ahkelios. A Trialgoer that went through Hestia's Trial. I know that because until the planet is Integrated, we're the only ones that can get skills that manipulate time.

So... what, did someone try to punch their way out of Hestia's temporal barrier? I frown. It's certainly a possibility, but unless I'm missing my guess, there's something here that the Heart wants us to see, so there has to be more to it than that.

No use fumbling about in the dark.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

My time in the Quiet Grove was enlightening, and part of that enlightenment was a marked improvement in my ability to work with Threads and Concepts.

I close my eyes and reach within, feeling the Firmament stir around me. I don't need to draw on a full Concept here. I just need a better understanding of what there is to find, and for that...

The Web of Threads lies just above my core, a small but growing network of all the Threads I've been able to comprehend. I reach out to pluck three of them, the most I've been able to work with at any one time.

[Thread of Insight activated!]

[Thread of Purpose activated!]

[Thread of Evolution activated!]

My ability to use Threads has always been more instinctive than purposeful. Prior to my training in the Grove, even my best attempts with the Thread of Insight resulted only in flashes of understanding that built on things I already knew.

I've improved since then. Practiced until activating a Thread took only a moment of thought and will, then refined my connection with them until they became something tangible. Now I can use them more or less at will to supplement both my power and my understanding.

I won't allow myself to be left floundering for answers ever again.

When I open my eyes again, there's a distinct change in what I can see. Three gossamer-thin Threads intertwine in the air around us, tangled into messy knots of intent. It's always a process with these things—the thing about Threads is that they're present in every little thing. They're a representation of how every aspect of reality is connected.

So as we walk, I reach out and begin to unwind them.

The Thread of Insight confirms my guess: that hole in reality led us here because this moment was significant to one of Hestia's past loopers. That Thread twists around the spot where we first appeared then vanishes off into the distance somewhere ahead of us.

In what I'd guess isn't a coincidence at all, it happens to flow in the same direction that Guard's already leading us.

The Thread of Purpose twirls around my soul and tells me that the Heart wants us to see what happened to that looper, but... I frown. There are two knots in the Thread, which means there's a second reason we're here. The second knot of Purpose tangles messily around Guard, almost like it's uncertain.

That's something I've never seen before. I'll have to keep an eye out—I can't get a good read on it as is.

Last but not least, there's the Thread of Evolution. That Thread is important for different reasons entirely: with Kauku's strength so far ahead of us, we need every opportunity for growth we can get. I use this Thread to seek out opportunities to grow in strength, and the moment I tug on it, I see a web of power that stretches all throughout the tunnels.

Inveria is rife with opportunity.

Most of it is in the exact form of power I'm using now—Threads and Concepts. Inveria is a city founded on the exchange of art and culture, and as a result, the place is filled with a density of understanding that would be difficult to find anywhere else. That makes Inveria the perfect place to develop a connection with a new Concept.

Perfect.

My progress on the next phase shift is more or less stalled until I find what I need to complete it, but that doesn't mean there's nothing more I can do for my core. The Concepts I've managed to tap into seem to enrich it in some way, pushing it toward a different kind of evolution.

What that is, I'm not sure yet. But I can feel that it's coming. I let myself passively soak in what understanding I can, filtering for anything that particularly resonates with my soul.

In the meantime, this is an opportunity for us to take in the Great City that means so much to Guard. Thankfully, I haven't forgotten how to appreciate what's around me.

That, and I'm pretty sure Ahkelios would let me hear no end of it if we come out of this and I remember nothing about Inveria.

The tunnels here are far more interesting than the replica found inside of the Fracture, at least. They do share one property: my Firmament sense isn't able to distinguish a boundary between stone and air. Other than that, though? Everything's different. The paintings are just as varied and interesting as Guard described, and more than that, the tunnels are filled with people.

We're in some sort of marketplace, as best as I can tell—surrounded by more species than I've seen so far on Hestia. Little stalls line the walls of the tunnels, selling just about everything—pottery, paintings, cleverly-detailed figurines, complicated mechanisms I can't even begin to understand.

Ahkelios is, of course, fascinated with every little thing. I can see him visibly restraining himself from just running off to explore. As much as I'd like to let him, though, splitting up while we're inside some sort of temporal anomaly seems like a terrible idea.

Gheraa, on the other hand, seems fascinated by the people. I can't tell how much of that interest is because he's never been around many people that aren't Integrators and how much of it is genuine.

Ahkelios I more or less trust not to wander off on his own, but Gheraa hasn't had nearly as much practice in self-control. I keep an eye on him—I'm not convinced he isn't going to go and try to interrogate some poor soul about "what it's like to be mortal". He's certainly tried to have that conversation with me one too many times, back in the Grove.

After about the fifth time he tries to scamper off, I sigh and grab him by the back of his collar, lifting him fully off the ground.

"If you force me to carry you, I'm just going to do it," I say plainly, ignoring his protests. They're more halfhearted than I would have expected, honestly. He does make an escape attempt every so often, but not with any particular success.

The whole thing gets us some strange looks, but it's easier than constantly pulling him back.

I take in the sights for a while. It's nice to see a part of Hestia that doesn't seem to be wreathed in any obvious conflict—whoever the Trialgoer in charge of Inveria is, they aren't exercising their control like I might have expected. Either that, or the city's keeping things together well in their absence.

Eventually, Guard leads us to what must be one of the so-called main tunnels—the one we're in expands outward into something truly enormous, to the point where I think one of Isthanok's floating citadels could have fit comfortably within it. I'm not even sure it's fair to call it a tunnel, at this point.

Still, Guard seems to know where he's going. He makes a beeline toward a specific spot along the walls of the tunnel even as we take in the sights. He wasn't kidding—the place is lined with all sorts of art from different peoples and different cultures, and the spot Guard is heading for...

He stops in his tracks before I can quite make out what he's heading toward. "Guard?" I ask when he doesn't move or say a word.

He hesitates for a moment, then gestures toward a spot on the wall. I catch a glimpse of a painting, though it's still a little too far for me to see in detail. It looks like Isthanok, maybe? But different, somehow. I take a step closer—

—but before I can analyze it in detail, an explosion rocks the cavern. I snap around toward the source, instantly on alert. I barely need to reach out with my Firmament sense to tell who that is.

Trialgoer. Looper.

We've definitely gone back in time, but from the look of utter rage and devastation on that Trialgoer's face, we might still be just a moment too late.