Bonds in the Dark
The void was not a place.
It was the absence of place—the silence between stars, the nothingness from which creation was pulled. Here, only beings of impossible power could stand.
And so they gathered.
The Beyond, a form of radiant light draped in cosmic threads, stood across from the Tranceeds, cloaked in shadows that bent endlessly inwards. Around them, eighteen thrones floated in a circle, each carrying a leader from one of the parallel Earths.
The leaders were not human. Not fully. Their bodies shimmered like reflections on water, each carrying the essence of their world. The ocean leader's voice lapped like waves, the flame leader burned like a furnace, the forest leader's hair was branches and roots.
The void bent as the meeting began.
"This corruption…" the Beyond's voice carried like a hymn, "…has grown beyond containment. The core they faced was only one seed. More lie dormant."
Tranceeds' shadows stirred. "It spreads because weakness allows it. You coddle them, light-bearer. Creation demands destruction. To excise rot, you burn it, even if the forest screams."
A murmur rose from the leaders. Some nodded at Tranceeds' bluntness; others recoiled.
The leader of Earth-7 slammed his hand on his throne. "Enough. This is not philosophy—it's war. Our cities are collapsing. If the dream continent falls, so do we all."
The flame leader leaned forward, voice crackling. "Then let us combine. The Beyond and Tranceeds together. Astral Flow united with both creation and destruction. The cataclysm force."
Even the void itself shuddered at those words.
The Beyond's glow dimmed, as though in hesitation. "To unleash such a force risks tearing apart the dream realm itself."
"Better ashes than corruption's feast," Tranceeds rumbled.
Silence spread. Decisions as heavy as galaxies hovered in the void.
But below, on the Dream Continent, mortals carried their burdens too.
Snake Dungeon stank of venom. The air was damp, walls slick with a sheen that glowed faintly like the scales of some endless beast. Kael sat with his back against a stone, breathing hard, sweat clinging to his forehead.
Beside him, Talia lay half-propped against his arm. Her wound was patched crudely with what Astral Flow he could muster, but blood still soaked her side.
"You shouldn't… move so much," Kael muttered, voice tight. "The healing will hold only if you rest."
Talia gave a small laugh, though it came with a wince. "Listen to you. The worrier."
"I'm serious, Talia. You almost—" His voice cracked, and he cut himself short.
She turned her head, studying him with calm eyes despite the pain. "And you almost got yourself killed."
Kael froze.
"Don't think I didn't see it," she continued softly. "You poured everything into that strike against her. If she hadn't pulled her punch to mock you, you wouldn't be breathing right now."
He clenched his fists. The memory of her crimson eyes, the way she brushed off his attack like dust—it burned inside him like poison.
"I wasn't strong enough," he whispered.
Talia's hand, trembling, reached for his. "Kael. None of us were. Don't carry this alone."
The words lodged in his throat. He didn't reply, not yet.
Elsewhere in the Dream Continent, Juno's eyes fluttered open.
She blinked, her head pounding, then sat up with a groan. The last thing she remembered was the Lady's whispers crushing her skull, Calyx dragging her away, and darkness swallowing her whole.
Now, she was lying on soft bedding, surrounded by the smell of herbs and glowing crystals.
A boy sat at her bedside, adjusting a bandage on his arm. His hair was slightly messy, his eyes calm but sharp, and he carried himself with a quiet confidence that made him look older than he seemed.
"Oh, you're awake," he said simply.
Juno frowned. "…You're the healer guy, right?"
"Calyx," he corrected. "And yes. Healer, dreamer, part-time babysitter apparently."
She blinked, then burst out laughing despite her soreness. "Babysitter? You? Please, I'm the one keeping you alive with my jokes."
He raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because from where I'm sitting, I dragged you out of a battlefield, carried you half a mile, and patched up your head wound while you drooled on my shoulder."
Juno's face went red. "I—WHAT—NO I DIDN'T DROOL—"
"Oh, you definitely did." His lips twitched upward.
Her sputtering echoed around the healing chamber, but beneath it she caught the truth—his voice had steadied her. His hands, though calloused, had healed her wounds. And for the first time since the whispers began, she didn't feel alone.
"Thank you," she said finally, softer.
Calyx only nodded. "We're not done. The corruption's core still stands. And your friends will need us."
Back in the dungeon, silence stretched between Kael and Talia.
Finally, Kael spoke. "We need a plan. If we're trapped here, then we fight our way back out. We regroup, we destroy the core."
Talia exhaled slowly, pain flickering across her face. "Destroying the core won't be simple. That Lady… she's not just a warrior. She's something else."
"We'll find a way," Kael said firmly, though the doubt gnawed at him. "I won't let her take Juno. Or you. Or anyone else."
Talia's eyes softened. She shifted, wincing, then leaned her head against his shoulder.
"You're always like this," she whispered.
Kael blinked. "…Like what?"
"Always trying to carry everything. Always trying to stay yourself, no matter what the world throws at you." Her voice trembled slightly now, her usual steady edge giving way.
"I…" She hesitated, then continued, "…I like that about you. I like you, Kael. Not because you're strong, not because you're some chosen wielder of Astral Flow—but because you're always yourself."
The words hung in the stale dungeon air, heavier than any battle.
Kael's breath caught. His chest tightened—not with guilt or rage this time, but with something gentler. Something terrifying.
He turned his head slightly, looking at her battered but earnest face.
"…Thank you." His voice was quiet, but it carried everything he couldn't yet say.
Talia smiled faintly, then let her eyes drift shut, exhaustion pulling her under.
Kael sat still, staring into the venom-lit walls of Snake Dungeon, his heart beating faster than any battlefield could make it.
Somehow, despite the darkness closing in, there was warmth.