Die. Respawn. Repeat.

Teluwat was exhausted.

He'd fended off no less than... he'd lost count of how many temporal resets he'd fended off at this point. If Raskar and He-Who-Guards hadn't arrived in his lair before the worst of it began, the situation would have been far more dire. He would have used up twice as much power, and more to the point, there was only so much Firmament he could channel through Raskar before he risked burning the crow out entirely. He was loathe to lose one of his best conductors.

Even if Guard would be worth ten of them combined. Maybe more.

Teluwat would have salivated at the thought if he had the energy.

Unfortunately, all the power he'd spent defending against those resets meant he didn't have enough left to turn Guard into one of his agents, especially since he'd have to overwhelm the ridiculous quantity of Firmament Guard seemed to possess.

It'd have to wait until he recovered more of his Firmament. At least the smaller changes seemed to have worked—Guard seemed to think nothing of the casual banter he'd struck up as Raskar, nor did he seem particularly disturbed by the skull-and-bone decor he used for his lair.

He would've cleaned up, but he had to abandon most of his plans when Ethan had started repeatedly dying. Teluwat scowled as he hacked and coughed a few more times. Guard patted him on the back as he did so, which was comforting in an awkward sort of way; he'd never had his back patted before.

"You are pushing yourself too far," Guard said, concerned. "I retain my memories between these resets—you do not need to keep me protected."

"I'm... I'm fine," Teluwat wheezed. He was most decidedly not fine, but he wasn't going to tell his new agent-to-be that. Besides, he would be fine—he just needed Ethan to stop dying long enough for him to finish the process of integrating Guard.

The problem was that the human just. would. not. stop. Teluwat glared at nothing in particular, then remembered himself in time to add a little more believability to his response.

"I don't want you to wait before you get to see your son again," Teluwat said, taking Guard's hand. "It's going to take you hours to get back here if you're caught in the reset."

"That is kind of you," Guard said. Teluwat nodded distractedly, keeping his senses expanded just in case another one of those resets was coming; thankfully, Ethan seemed to be taking a break. That or he'd defeated whatever it was that was killing him so much.

Hopefully, it was the latter. He would need hours to restore his Firmament, at this rate.

Of course, his reason for keeping Guard around wasn't particularly altruistic. He just didn't want the silverwisp to leave his range before his changes set in completely. Assimilation was a strange Talent, and the way it interacted with an abnormal core like Guard's was stranger still.

He should never have been able to regain his memories, for one thing. For another, the impact of the Talent should have been far greater—from what Teluwat could tell, it felt almost like the original rewrite hadn't properly taken, even with all the time it had to do so.

And if Guard was capable of retaining his memories between loops, there was no guarantee that Assimilation's changes would survive the reset. Teluwat didn't really want to think about how hard it might be to get Guard under his control again if he managed to escape.

Not to mention what might happen if Guard returned to Ethan and told him what happened.

Teluwat frowned at the odd chill that went up his spine as he had that thought. What was wrong with him? He was perfectly confident in his power. Even if Ethan could match him in strength, Assimilation would put him a step above the other Trialgoer.

Annoyed, he cleared his throat, then injected a note of false cheer into his voice. "Anyway!" he said. "I'm sure you miss your son. We should find him before that Ethan resets time again, yes?"

"I would appreciate that," Guard said. Teluwat nodded, already drawing on Assimilation so he could make the requisite changes to the silverwisp—

—though now that he thought about it, Teluwat couldn't remember what Filian's original name was. He pondered for a moment, then shrugged to himself. It wasn't like it mattered. Guard's memories would adjust when the Assimilation spread.

"Filian!" he called. "Your father's here!"

Guard was clenching and unclenching his fists, oddly enough. Teluwat blinked at the sight, then shrugged to himself. He was probably excited to see his son again.

He sat back to wait, reaching out with his senses to make sure Ethan wouldn't hit them with a temporal reset again.

It takes more deaths than I expect before we make our way to the first of the valve chambers. By the time we get there, my core feels like it's expanded from the size of my fist to the size of a basketball, and it's spinning fast enough that I have to force myself to hold back whenever I have to use a skill.

On the plus side, I think this means I should be able to handle more skills. I've been worried about that—probably more worried than I actually needed to be, considering what Gheraa's said about the so-called condition of "skill overload". He'd mostly said it to warn Ahkelios, but...

Well, the point is, now that my core's expanded, I should be able to handle more skills. Good thing, too. I've got thousands of points to bank, at this point.

It'll have to wait until I have a spare moment, though, in case something odd happens when I attempt it. It wouldn't be the first time the Interface has done something unexpected, and with my core being what it is, nothing's really out of the question.

That and I find most of my attention being stolen by what we find.

We were right about the Firmament over the valve chamber being a Tear, first of all, but it feels different from the others I've encountered. It's a little smaller, a little less fully-formed. The boundary of the Tear is a gathering of Temporal Firmament that hasn't quite managed to create a complete rift, which is probably part of the reason it was possible for Adeya and the others to escape at all.

I frown as I examine it, feeling out its Firmament.

"Well?" Adeya asks. "Anything?"

She's mentioned her suspicions that this Tear was a trap that was meant for me, and considering the oddity of its placement and the fact that it shouldn't even be here, I suspect she's right. The thing is, I'm having trouble figuring out exactly what this trap is meant to do.

Not what it did to Adeya's team, surely. I was cut off from the Interface's chat function at the time of the Tear's creation, and there's no reason it would be able to prevent the bypass from working.

No. What it's designed to do with me is undoubtedly different.

"I'm not sure yet," I admit after another second or two of scanning the Tear. "I'm probably going to have to go inside to figure it out."

Adeya gives me a skeptical look. "You realize you'd be walking into a trap that, again, we think was meant for you."

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"And if this were a stronger Tear, I might be worried." I rap on the boundary of the Tear, making the Firmament ripple beneath my fist. "Tears are weird. They're a little like dungeons in that there's an expected way to complete them, and completing them causes them to be sealed. This one looks like it was meant to block off access to the valve chamber, and I think it's also meant to do something to mess with my loops, but..."

"But?" Adeya frowns.

"The temporal barrier isn't that strong here," I say. "And this isn't where this Tear is supposed to be. It's unstable. It's a miracle it's even here in the first place—I'm not sure it has enough strength to fully simulate an event, let alone a dangerous one."

"You think we could've completed it, then?" Adeya asks, coming up to it beside me.

I glance at her, then shake my head. "It's for the best that you didn't spend longer in it," I say. "The temporal barrier is supposed to affect me and everyone that originates from Hestia. If you got fully attuned to it, I don't know what would happen, but it probably wouldn't be good."

Best case scenario, they might be trapped in a time tumor like Ahkelios and Gheraa are with every loop. Worst case? They're "integrated" into the Empty City and reset whenever my loop does. That by itself wouldn't be an issue until the Ritual resets for the next stage, at which point...

I wince at the thought.

"I still don't think it's a good idea for you to walk into it," Adeya says, bringing my attention back to her. "Can't you send someone else?"

"There are two more Tears," I point out. "This is the one that you and your team walked into. I can tell that it's weaker than the other two. I'd rather find out what it's meant to do now, where I have a better chance of circumventing it. If I don't take this chance now and something happens with one of the other two Tears, I might not be able to react as quickly."

"Take someone with you, then," Adeya says. I shake my head again, glancing over at the Interface. The Firmament saturation seems to decrease over time, thankfully, and over the course of the hour or two it took to make our way to the valve chamber, it's dropped to a somewhat more comfortable 87%.

"Someone needs to stay out here in case there's another swarm of monsters," I say. "Ahkelios and Gheraa can do it without having to rely too heavily on their skills, and I don't want any of you to be exposed to the temporal barrier any more than necessary."

Adeya is silent for a moment, clearly trying to find a counter argument to me going into the Tear alone. Eventually, though, she sighs. "I get it. Just be careful."

"That's my line!" Ahkelios quips, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can't believe you're leaving us behind."

I laugh at this, shaking my head at my friend. "I'll be quick," I assure them. "You guys keep each other safe."

With that, I step through the boundary of the Tear, keeping my senses carefully extended just in case something happens.

Almost as soon as I step through, the valve chamber begins to waver. I can recognize spatial distortion when I see it, thanks to my use of Warpstep—I wasn't kidding when I said it felt like this Tear was incorrectly placed. It feels like this Tear is meant to be somewhere on Hestia.

More specifically, though, it feels like it's a record of one of the former Trialgoers and their loops. I frown at that realization—neither of the two Tears I've been to have given me that impression so far. This feels a lot more like what happens when I connect to a monstrous Remnant using Temporal Link.

It even feels a little bit like the alternate version of Inveria I was in.

The memory of that makes me close my eyes for a moment. I've been trying not to think too hard about it. I still don't know what happened to Fyran. I don't know if the version of him that I helped—the one that was able to break through to his third layer without being corrupted by his rage—still exists.

I hope it does. I hope my presence there did something.

It takes a while for the Tear to complete its transition, with it being as weak as it is. I keep my senses extended the entire time, trying to identify exactly what the trap in this Tear is; something about it is strange—something beyond the fact that it feels like it reflects the loop of another former Trialgoer—but I can't tell exactly what.

The other Tears I've been to have been nothing like this. The first was the one that contained a record of what happened to First Sky, writ onto an obelisk of distorted Firmament. At the time, I understood it as a "hotspot", according to the Interface. A sort of mini-event that came with rewards.

With the context I have now, it might be more accurate to say that the tragedy of First Sky was strong enough that it echoed through time, leaving an imprint on Hestia's Heart.

Hestia, of all the host planets of the Trials, undoubtedly has a stronger link to the rest of the galaxy than most.

The only other Tear I've sealed so far is the one on the edge of Carusath's territory, the one I worked together with Naru to seal. That one is a hard memory to shake, in no small part because of what Naru did to himself at the end of it all. To think he hadn't even realized what was happening at the borders of his own city...

I sigh. Even once the Trials are over, there's going to be a lot to fix. The Integrators and their manipulations have left their mark all over the galaxy.

That thought is interrupted as a new environment begins to resolve around me. The Tear begins to take full shape, and as I sweep my senses through it—

—something flickers strangely. I narrow my eyes—

[Thread of Insight activated!]

—and I recognize something almost immediately.

This Tear has a tiny bit of Firmament within it that doesn't belong. It's almost unnoticeable. If not for the fact that I was actively looking out for it and the fact that the Tear's Firmament wavered as it completed its changes, I might not have been able to find it.

It's... familiar. That piece of Firmament feels like corruption and collusion. It feels like the Hand I fought within the Intermediary, the one corrupted by Kauku and Rhoran. It feels like traces of Raskar, the agent of Teluwat that followed us all the way to the Fracture.

I frown grimly. That alone is strong evidence that Teluwat and Kauku are working together. What I don't understand is why this is here.

"What exactly are you for?" I mutter, running my senses over it carefully and trying not to trigger it in case it's a trap. I keep my Firmament away from it carefully, trying to see what it's doing instead, if anything.

And then I see it.

It's a Firmament mimic. More specifically, it's a small Concept-parasite designed to analyze and mimic my Firmament signature, in particular the part of my core that's bound to the Interface. I can feel its attempts to scan me like tiny tendrils reaching out to take samples of my core.

This is part of the reason it was able to camouflage itself so well—it's designed to mimic something else.

More important, though, is the reason it's doing this. I realize what it's doing the instant it begins to change, because it begins to feel more and more like the shard of the Interface that was stuck inside Tarin's core. The one I transferred to Naru's soul to allow him to remember the loops.

They're trying to figure out how to get into the loops.

I almost laugh at the thought. It makes a certain amount of sense—Teluwat might be able to defend against the resets, but from what I've seen, it's a costly skill. If he and Kauku can hijack the mechanism that makes me immune to them, they'd be able to send agents after me regardless of the loops.

Worse, Teluwat's influence would have basically no limits on its spread. I wouldn't be surprised if this was what Kauku promised to Teluwat in exchange for his help. Now that I've sensed it, though?

I reach for Firmament Control, wrap the mimic in my grasp, and attempt to crush it ruthlessly.

It's harder than I expected. A small portion of the construct—the part of it that's more Concept than Firmament—manages to resist. I frown, pushing harder, bringing the force of my will down upon it.

And when that isn't enough, I see it for what it is.

The smile that steals across my face is a grim one. I Anchor the destruction of that Firmament in place, pushing my Talent to the forefront for the first time since the Grove.

You are nothing, I tell the mimic.

And just like that, it's gone.

The only thing that can beat a Talent is another Talent. That means Teluwat's tipped his hand. I know who holds Assimilation. The evidence has always been there, in a way—everything he does and everything he's able to do... it all fits.

A trap for me indeed. I bet this is part of why Adeya and her team ended up partially attuned to Hestia's temporal barrier, too.

And then there's the second part of the trap.

The Tear is leaking.

It's designed to. It's part of the reason this Tear is so weak; part of the reason it's been placed here instead of anywhere else. I remember seeing a small fragment of what seemed like a skill construct on the edges of the Carusath Tear—no doubt the Firmament being leaked counts as "using a skill," which means...

I glance at the Interface.

Firmament saturation: 89%

And even as I stare at it, it ticks over.

Firmament saturation: 90%

I frown. It's a good thing I've already activated Firmament Control—it doesn't take an extra cast for me to seize every bit of the leaking Firmament I can, halting its movement. I watch the Interface closely. The number ticks up to 91%...

A few seconds pass, and the number holds steady. I breathe a sigh of relief.

Now I can finally turn my attention to the Tear itself, and more importantly, to the former Trialgoer that resides within.