The mist tasted like ash.
It wasn't like the fog in the Spire. This was heavy, clinging to their clothes like wet wool. Kael wiped his face, and his hand came away grey.
"Don't breathe deeply," Voss warned. The machine walked ahead, his rifle sweeping the grey nothingness. "The Silt is particulate data. It will settle in your lungs and try to rewrite your synapse firings."
"Rewrite them to what?" Elric asked. His voice sounded thin, distant.
"To whatever it remembers," Voss said.
They had been walking for hours since leaving the Crash Site. The terrain had changed from sharp, rusted metal to soft, rolling dunes of grey dust. It was quiet here. Too quiet. Even the wind had died.
Kael adjusted his grip on the pauldron strapped to his waist. It felt heavier now, like it was pulling him forward.
"Kael," Elric said. He stopped walking.
Kael turned. "Keep moving, Elric. We can't stop."
"Why are we here?" Elric looked around, his eyes wide and vacant. "I... I was in the library. I was reading the Scroll of Tides. Why am I in the ash?"
"We're not in the ash," Kael said, stepping back to grab Elric's shoulder. "We're in the Void. We're looking for the First Sword."
"The First Sword?" Elric frowned. "He's a myth. He died centuries ago. You can't look for a myth, boy. It's bad methodology."
Kael felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold air. "Voss! He's losing it."
Voss turned. "He has lower mental resistance. The Silt is overwriting his short-term buffer."
"Fix him."
"I cannot fix biology," Voss said coldily. "Keep him moving. If he stops, he becomes part of the landscape."
Kael shook Elric hard. "Elric! Look at me! The Spire! We fell! REMEMBER!"
Elric blinked. For a second, clarity returned. "Kael? Why... why does my head hurt?"
"Focus on the pain," Kael said. "Pain is real. Hold onto it."
They pushed on. But the Silt was getting thicker. And now, there were shapes in it.
Kael saw a banner fluttering in the nonexistent wind. A hawk, red on black.
House Vane.
He blinked, and it was gone.
Then he saw a gate—the iron gate of his childhood home. It was standing alone in the grey dunes.
"It's not real," he muttered, clutching his obsidian arm. The arm was burning now, a cold fire that seemed to eat the grey mist around it.
"Kael..."
The voice wasn't Elric's. It was soft. A woman's voice.
Kael froze. He knew that voice. He hadn't heard it since the night the fires started. Since the night he ran.
"Mother?"
He turned. She was standing there, ten paces away. She wasn't burnt. She was wearing her white dress, the one she wore for the Solstice feast. She was smiling.
"You're late for supper," she said.
Kael took a step toward her. His heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. "I... I couldn't come back. They were everywhere."
"It's okay," she said, reaching out a hand. Her fingers were dissolving into grey smoke at the tips.
"You can rest now. Put down the sword, Kael. It's so heavy."
"Warning," Voss's voice cut through the air like a knife. "Cognitive hazard detected. Kael, do not engage."
"She's here," Kael whispered. tears cutting tracks through the grey dust on his face. "She survived."
"She is dust," Voss said. "She is a memory echo."
"Come home," his mother said. Her face was starting to blur, her eyes turning into empty grey sockets. "We missed you."
Kael stared at her. He wanted to go. He wanted to drop the sword and the anger and just sleep. It would be so easy.
Then he looked at his arm. The obsidian limb. The mark of his Oath.
I swear to burn the world that burned us.
"You're not real," Kael said, his voice trembling.
"I'm your mother," the thing hissed, its voice distorting, becoming a chorus of screams.
"My mother is dead," Kael said. He drew his iron sword. "And I am the reason."
He swung.
The blade passed through the figure, dispersing the mist. She vanished with a wail that sounded like wind in a chimney.
Kael stood there, breathing hard. The illusion was gone. But the Silt around them was agitating. The grey dust was swirling, forming solid shapes. Soldiers. Faceless, armored in rust, rising from the ground.
"We have aggravated the immune system," Voss noted, raising his rifle. "Combat protocols engaged."
"Good," Kael said, wiping his eyes. "I need to hit something."