The transport ramp hissed open, and the air left their lungs in a single, sharp gasp.
It's… sucking the breath right out of me, Deo thought, his hand instinctively tightening on Anya's. What kind of place does that?
Before them, a cavern stretched into impossible darkness, its ceiling lost to shadows. Golden orbs of light drifted like lazy fireflies, their glow gliding over walls carved with runes that seemed to squirm if you didn't stare directly at them.
They're moving. The carvings are moving. The air tasted of clean mountain snow and the sharp, electric tang of a lightning strike. A low hum vibrated through the soles of their shoes, a deep thrum that made the fine hairs on Deo's arms stand upright.
It's like the whole mountain is alive. And it's watching us.
A giant stood waiting. He seemed carved from the mountain itself, towering over them, his dark grey armor straining over shoulders as broad as a doorway. Eyes the color of glacial ice moved over them, pausing on every detail.
"Iron Bulwark." The name wasn't just heard; it was felt, a rumble deep in Deo's chest. "Vice-Lord of House Ironheart. Rank 33." A grin split his face, all perfect white teeth. "Welcome to the Anvil of Heaven."
K stretched with an exaggerated yawn. Here we go. The big man's posturing. So predictable. "He's mostly harmless. Likes to flex." He waved a dismissive hand. "Thinks dramatic entrances are a personality trait. Don't encourage him."
Boris's boots snapped together, the sound cracking through the vast space. "Boris, Knight Rank 7,200. Package and civilian acquired as ordered. No complications during transport."
Bulwark's laughter boomed, shaking fine dust from the cavern ceiling far above. "Excellent work as always, Boris!" His gaze swept over K's casual attire. Gods, does the man own a shirt with buttons? "Though I see you've let K dress himself again." Those glacier eyes settled on Deo and Anya, the amusement not quite reaching their calculating depth. "And these must be our guests! The walking apocalypse and his brave keeper!"
Anya's chin lifted a fraction. I am not a 'keeper'. "We prefer Deo and Anya."
"Direct! I like it!" Bulwark clapped his massive hands together—clap—a sound of stone striking stone. "Now! To the council chamber! The elders have been waiting with what passes for patience among ancient, powerful beings!"
He turned, his armored form moving with surprising grace. They followed him through corridors of living rock that hummed underfoot. Thousands of operatives in grey uniforms moved with crisp, efficient motions, many snapping to sharp attention as Bulwark passed.
"Vice-Lord!" "Sir!" "The Wall stands!"
Bulwark glanced back, his grin widening. They can all feel it. That unstable, glorious power buzzing around the boy like angry hornets. "They see it too, you know! Makes the new recruits nervous. The veterans, though..." His eyes crinkled. "The veterans are taking bets on how long you'll last."
The doors to the council chamber rose twenty feet, forged from a dark metal that hummed with a low, ancient power. They swung inward without a visible mechanism.
Showoffs, K thought, leaning against the wall.
Seven ancient figures sat on stone thrones. As one, their heads turned. The weight of their collective gaze pressed down like a physical force.
Elder Morwen spoke first, her voice the crack of winter ice. "The Apotheotic-class variable. You've finally arrived."
Deo took a half-step forward. I am not a variable. "My name is Deo. This is Anya."
"Names are irrelevant here." Morwen's gaze swept over them like a physical touch. "You carry the potential for global extinction in your soul. You are a risk this council cannot afford to ignore."
A bearded elder to her right, Jiro, spoke with more warmth, though his eyes remained grave. "Lord Apostle Stone is in deep meditation, seeking guidance. Until he returns, we seven must decide your fate."
"The safe path is clear." Morwen's fingers tapped a slow, impatient rhythm on her stone throne. "Elimination. The risk you represent is too great to do otherwise."
Bulwark moved forward, his cheerful demeanor vanishing like mist. This is where we stand. This is what we protect. "The Twelve-House Accord gives him the right to trial! Our laws protect even the most dangerous among us! Or have we abandoned our principles when they become inconvenient?"
"The Accord was not written for reality-breakers." Morwen's voice sharpened. "This... thing... saw the face of the Prime Mover and lived. That mark does not fade. It shines like a beacon, inviting attention from things that should never notice our reality."
Another elder, Valerius, turned her stone-grey eyes to Anya. "The child is not the only risk. The civilian has seen too much." Her gaze was not unkind, but utterly firm. "Your memory must be cleansed for your own protection as much as ours."
Anya stood her ground, though her knuckles were white where she held Deo's arm. They can't. They can't take him from me. They can't take what we've been through. "I won't let you wipe my mind. Where he goes, I go. I'm staying with Deo."
"You have no choice in—"
"Ironheart protects all who seek shelter within our mountains." Bulwark's voice cut through hers, taking on a steel Deo hadn't heard before. "That protection extends to civilians, regardless of circumstances."
Morwen's eyes narrowed to slits. "Sentimentality will get us all killed, Bulwark. The variable must be contained. Now."
All seven elders rose as one. Their combined energy flooded the chamber, thickening the air until each breath was a struggle. The pressure drove Deo to his knees.
It's crushing me… can't… breathe… "I'm not a weapon," he gritted out, forcing the words through the weight. "I'm not a variable. I'm just trying to survive… and improve the world into a better place."
"That is not enough." Jiro's voice carried genuine regret. "You must give us a reason to risk reality itself on your potential."
Anya stepped forward, placing herself slightly in front of Deo. He saved me. That has to matter. It has to. "He saved my life! He protected me when he could have run! Doesn't that count for something?"
"One life against all creation?" Morwen's voice was cold, precise. "The math is quite simple, child."
The pressure intensified, a physical weight pressing them toward the floor. Energy crackled along Deo's nerves.
This is it. They're going to kill us. Right here.
"Enough."
K's voice cut through the tension. He pushed off the wall, all traces of laziness gone. Time to cash in some favors.
"The kid's with me," he stated, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.
Morwen's eyes flashed. "This is not your concern, K. You have no standing in this council. You never have."
K's smile was cold and sharp. Oh, I have standing. They just don't like the price of it. "I have as much standing as I choose to take." He walked forward to stand between Deo and the elders. "Two Divine days. He trains with me. If he can't handle those two Bane-level demions after that, you can do whatever you want with him."
Bulwark's eyebrows shot up. Is he insane? "K... even for you, that's—"
"—the only offer on the table," K finished, his gaze never leaving the elders. "Well? Do we have an accord, or do I take my new apprentice and leave you to explain to Braxor why you let a Primordial-class asset walk away?"
Morwen looked ready to argue, but Elder Jiro placed a gentle hand on her arm. It is a risk. But so is doing nothing. And K… K is a calculated risk we have long understood. "Two Divine days," he said, his voice weary but firm. "In the time chamber. The civilian trains as well if she wishes to join him. But know this," he added, looking at Anya with sudden intensity. "The chamber does not discriminate. The years will weigh on your soul as heavily as his."
Anya didn't hesitate. Years? What years? I don't care. "I'm going with him."
K nodded once. "Done." He turned to Deo. "Well, kid? You ready to become my disciple? Last chance to back out."
Deo looked at the seven powerful elders, at Bulwark's concerned face, at Anya's determined expression, and finally at K's unreadable smile.
What choice do I have? The thought was a bleak surrender. There is no choice. "What choice do I have?"
K's familiar grin returned, though it seemed different now. None at all. Welcome to the big leagues. "That's the spirit!" He clapped Deo on the shoulder with just enough force to stagger him. "Welcome to the family, kid. Try not to go completely insane in there."
He snapped his fingers.
The world shimmered at its edges, the solid stone wavering like a heat haze. Everything dissolved into swirling light and energy.
K's voice was the last thing they heard, echoing with strange solemnity.
"Don't worry. I'll be your sensei. It'll be fun!"
The light intensified, a brilliant white that swallowed everything. There was only the sensation of falling through endless space and time.
Then, silence.
They stood in a place of impossible geometry, where light bent in ways that defied understanding. The air itself vibrated with potential.
Where… are we? Deo's mind struggled to find a reference point. This is… wrong.
Before them, K stood with his arms spread wide, a genuine, unsettling smile on his face for the first time.
"Welcome to your new home for the next two thousand years," he said, his voice echoing in the strange, vast space.
Two thousand…? The number didn't compute. It was too big.
"Try not to break anything important." K's smile widened. "Especially yourselves."
Deo looked at Anya. Her hand found his. Her eyes held the same awe and terror that clenched his heart.
What have we gotten ourselves into?
The first step was taken. The training was about to begin.