The halls of the Nether Realm seemed to stretch endlessly, each passage revealing more twisted geometry and impossible architecture. Justin’s legs ached with every step, his cane providing much-needed support as they continued their retreat from the goblin battlefield.

  Thankfully, there were no further signs of the horde. Justin could only hope it stayed that way.

  “We should be far enough by now,” Ashralok said, her amber flames lighting the obsidian walls. “Even for a horde with a vendetta.”

  Atlas gave a strangely weary chirp, his drills retracting as they slowed their pace.

  Justin rounded the next corner and froze.

  The corridor ahead looked... familiar. Not in the ever-shifting, reality-bending way everything in the Nether Realm did, but genuinely familiar. His heart quickened.

  “Wait,” he said. “I think we’re heading back toward—”

  He looked at the Sapphire Star on his chest, noting its subtle glow. It had faded as they gained distance from the Thandara Gate, but now it was growing bright again.

  “Well,” Ashralok said, her flames flickering with interest. “Seems like that little trinket knows the way. Unless it’s just leading us in circles.”

  “Don’t completely dash my hopes,” Justin said. “Let’s move.”

  They pressed forward, the Star’s glow growing stronger. Within minutes, they emerged into the familiar corridor.

  And there it was. The Solanis Gate.

  Or at least, what Justin believed to be the Solanis Gate. It still had the same obsidian frame, rippling like liquid fire. It was about a hundred paces away.

  “That’s the one,” she said, floating forward eagerly. “I’m kind of surprised you did the impossible.”

  Justin pushed down his annoyance. Within a minute, they were just steps away from the portal. Justin wasn’t sure she would be able to use the gate. Did she have to be in his party, or did she have some ability that allowed her to use it without his help?

  Judging by Ashralok’s confidence, it seemed she could leave this place any time she wanted. But for now, she wasn’t making a move.

  That might have been for the best because he needed to address the massive elephant in the room.

  “Ashralok, we need to talk.”

  She turned to face him, her smile widening. “Oh? Did you think of a little loophole in our agreement?”

  “No,” Justin said, even if that kind of was the reason. “I just want to be clear about something. As you know, our deal was made with... haste. It doesn’t fully benefit both of us. I succeeded in protecting myself from physical harm, while you got guidance back to this gate. But we both know you could still find ways to hurt me. Through... others.”

  Ashralok’s expression didn’t change, but her flames dimmed slightly. “Such as?”

  “The Fyrspawn, for starters. Or anyone else I might care about on Solanis. There’s no point in hiding that face, because you’ll find out soon enough. It would be best just to nip all this in the bud.”

  “Ah,” she said, her smile widening. “Finally thinking things through, are we?”

  “I thought things through just fine for the situation I was in,” Justin shot back. “You’re the one who got greedy, remember? And speaking of which... why do you want the Sapphire Star so badly anyway? Or a Prismatic Core, for that matter?”

  Ashralok’s flames flickered, and for a moment, Justin thought he detected something like calculation in her fiery gaze.

  “I’m beginning to think you aren’t who you say you are, Justin Talemaker.”

  “I never made any claims about myself,” Justin countered. “I just let you believe what you wanted.”

  “You’re no Founder. You’re... something else.” She frowned, studying him more intently. “You are...”

  She considered for a long moment. “A speaker of the Founder’s Tongue, if in a bit of an odd dialect. Yes. You are a Founder, but are not a Founder. You are one of the Migrators. Are you not?”

  “Is that what I think it is?”

  “You come from Earth, yes? Don’t act so surprised; I know something about it. The Founders try to hide their origins from anyone but their own kind, and only then is that knowledge restricted to the aristocracy. But the portal technology they perfected was... still quite imperfect, shall we say.”

  Justin’s heart raced. She might actually know the answer to this mystery. How the portals worked, and even how to get back. At this point, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go back. He’d had the opportunity once already and turned it down.

  But if he could travel back and forth between the two... well, that was another matter entirely.

  “First of all, what do you mean by ‘imperfect’?”

  “I don’t know how the Founders’ magic works exactly,” Ashralok said. “But there is no denying the mastery the Founders had with their portals. They connected the Six Worlds, after all, a momentous act that could not be retracted. The Master Portal that brought them here is gone. That’s the one that they used to travel to Eyrth. But it’s said that when they bridged the void, other minor portals were created as a byproduct. And their creation was somewhat... erratic, but at the same time precise.”

  “That makes no sense,” Justin said.

  “Erratic, in the sense that these minor portals would bring other Founders to the Aetherion from time to time. Precise, in the sense that these portals occurred four times per Eyrth year. These were the Migrators, people marked by the Creator for greatness. Or at least, potential greatness.”

  “So, these minor portals were a side effect of this Master Portal?”

  Ashralok nodded. “Yes. I don’t claim to know how it works. Only what I’ve heard from other gods, mostly. My information could be wrong.”

  It was something, however small. Justin had to admit it was beyond his understanding, too. It was easy to picture the Founders creating some future technology that even they didn’t fully understand.

  Why a side effect of this technology would draw four “Migrators” to Eyrth a year was the ultimate mystery. Was it merely to Eyrth, or spread among the rest of these Six Worlds? If Ignis had been born on Solanis, and he was an Earther as Justin suspected, then that suggested Eyrth might only get one of these Migrators per year, assuming similar population levels. Or perhaps four a year came from each world. It was impossible to say at this point.

  “So, tell it to me true. Are you a Migrator?”

  Justin saw no point in lying about it. She’d pretty much figured it out anyway, and lying might only make things go poorly later. “Yes. That’s how I got here.”

  “And the Prismatic Core?”

  Justin saw no point in lying about this, either. She was giving him good information, and he wanted to keep it coming. “It was right there in front of the portal.”

  “That part, strangely, makes sense. While these situations are not at all common, an object like a Prismatic Core would serve as an effective beacon. Even a simple class core can be, or creatures who carry gods’ blood—like dragons, drakes, elder wyrms, or krakens, among many others.” She regarded him with interest. “You definitely lucked out with the Prismatic Core. And you said you stumbled upon it in the woods?”

  Justin nodded. “Pretty much.”

  “I suspect there is more to this mystery,” she said. “Magic is a complicated thing. There are rules to it, you know, but then there are the secrets. Secrets even a goddess like me might not know. Likely, you’ll never learn the reason you truly came here.” Her tone became more direct. “Whatever the case, you originally asked me why I would want a Prismatic Core. To put it simply, it will unlock my next Ascension Path. It would allow me to progress beyond Level 70 all the way up to Level 90.”

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  “And the Sapphire Star?”

  “With the Sapphire Star,” her flames brightened with eager anticipation, “I would be more capable of defending myself against most threats. Such as my husband. As soon as I return to Solanis, he will no doubt want to put a stop to me; even if he doesn’t want to deal with me directly, he can send his minions to do that for him. The Sapphire Star is insurance. If anything hits me, I can hit back even harder. Even that will give him pause.”

  “But you valued the core more.”

  Ashralok’s flames flickered. “Yes.”

  “I’m a bit confused. I know a prismatic core is needed to unlock an Ascendant Class at Level 40. But you also need one to get past Level 70? I didn’t think anything beyond 50 was possible for a mere mortal like me.”

  Ashralok nodded. “It’s possible. Just not likely. One Prismatic Core breaks the level barrier past Level 40. Another for Level 50—you’re now in demigod territory here. Another for Level 70, the requirement for minor godhood. And yet another for Level 90. At this point, you are basically a major god. And don’t be deceived. Getting from Level 20 to Level 40 is exponentially more difficult and time-consuming, to the point that most mortals won’t ever do it. If they try, it’s the path to a quick death. And it becomes even harder with higher levels.”

  “So if all you’re lacking is a Prismatic Core, what’s stopping you from going out and clearing a Level 50 Vault to get one? It’s my understanding that Level 50 Vaults drop them.”

  “Because,” Ashralok explained, her voice taking on a lecturing tone, “typical Vaults don’t drop them once you’re past Level 40. Once you’ve acquired your first Primatic Core, the only way to get more is to challenge other deities or demigods who match your power... or attempt a Celestial Vault, which is so difficult it’s basically a death sentence.”

  “Celestial Vault,” Justin said, intrigued. “What level are they at?”

  “They don’t have levels in the traditional sense. The Vault will indeed be challenging, to the point where many simply don’t attempt them when they happen to appear. Which is very rarely. The risk is simply too great. At level 50, you also stop aging, meaning you have more to lose.”

  “Seriously?”

  Ashralok nodded. “Yes. That’s commonly known, but it may happen so rarely on your world that it’s a myth.”

  Justin thought back to something Eldrin had told him a long time ago. The guy who led the Shadow Empire, Belshar the Nightbringer, had an Ascendant Class called the Eternal Sovereign. Presumably, he was Level 50, which would have made him immortal. But he must have been stuck there because he couldn’t find another prismatic core; since he already had one, the only way he could get a new one was by challenging a being of equal or greater power. He would have needed to challenge someone of equal power level to continue progressing.

  But to imagine there was power beyond even that was almost overwhelming.

  Justin processed this information, the sheer scale of power in this world finally clicking into place. “Is it possible to reach Level 100?”

  “Theoretically, yes,” Ashralok’s flames danced with reverence. “It requires the perfect fusion of six Prismatic Cores with your soul core. Only two beings in all history have achieved this: Ayla the Phoenix and the Harrower of Morvath. Other beings, like the Eight Old Gods and the Six New, began existence perfected at Level 100.”

  “And the Creator?”

  She smirked. “Well, who can say? He may not have a level at all, but one thing is for certain. He is in charge of Creation, and he makes the rules. Now, it’s not really my job to lecture you on—”

  Justin pressed on. This was a goldmine of information he wasn’t going to let slip by. “So, what happens if you defeat someone who has multiple cores? Not to say I’m planning on killing you, which is asinine, but presumably you have two prismatic cores, right?”

  “They drop as a single core,” she answered. “By then, they have fused with the person’s soul core completely.”

  Justin leaned on his cane, contemplating. So no hijacking your way to godhood by assassinating a god. Not that he would do that anyway. “And what’s to stop a Level 70, or even a Level 90, from ganking a low-level demigod for their core?”

  “It’s because of something called the Ascendant Compact,” Ashralok explained. “You can only claim the core from someone who has at least the same number as you, or one more. A Level 70 can challenge a Level 50 since both have two cores, but not a Level 40 ascendant, who only has one. If you kill someone with fewer cores, their prismatic core simply... vanishes. Destroyed.” She paused, her flames flickering.

  “That doesn’t make sense, though. You seem to think you can use my core, even though I only have one, while you have two.”

  “Well, that’s different. Your prismatic core has not been used to create an Ascendant Class yet. So it’s not bound by the Ascendant Compact. It is currently functioning as a basic Socialite core. That only changes once you get to Level 40 and unlock your Ascendant Class.”

  Justin felt a chill despite the ambient heat. “So I’m basically walking around with a target on my back? Any ascendant can just kill me to harvest my core?”

  “Yes, technically. But they would have to know you have it first. That’s why I said it was a huge mistake to tell me. You likely thought you had no choice, but still. Fortunately for you, I can’t do anything about it. Not directly, anyway.”

  “I don’t think I’d even want to progress that far. But Level 40 would be nice.”

  “Don’t worry. I doubt you’ll even make it past 30.”

  “Gee. Thanks.”

  “I don’t say that to be mean. It’s just... what the Ether Realm requires of you just to get that far. You have to drop a lot of bodies. They say only blood turns the wheels of progress, Golden Boy, and I’m sure you’ve spilled your share by this point to get so far. How much more will you need to spill if you want to become an ascendant?”

  With a start, Justin realized she was right. He didn’t have an exact body count, but he’d definitely killed. Sure, those creatures were trying to kill him too, but the point stood.

  “I don’t plan to do anything against my morals. No one’s perfect, but I can hold my head high. For now, at least.”

  “That may be true. All I’m saying is, be careful, Golden Boy. Power has a way of creeping up on you. There’s always a valid excuse to claim more. I started as a mere Fyrspawn, you know. I caught the eye of the ascendants around Level 50. Then you tell yourself it’s just to protect yourself and your loved ones, and before you know it, thousands have died worshipping your name. The scary part isn’t the killing, but how much you get used to it.”

  Justin cleared his throat. “Quite the warning.”

  “My advice? Give up that Star and retire to guarantee your safety. What are you hanging onto it for, anyway?”

  “Protection,” Justin said, realizing this was the very excuse Ashralok had warned him about.

  “You claim protection,” Ashralok said, “but I just saw you annihilate a hundred and twelve goblins using the power of that artifact. And with the right set of skills and weapons, you could grow even more powerful. Leave the Ascendant Artifacts to the ascendants, is what I say.”

  “You make a compelling argument,” Justin said. “That said, I think I’ll hold onto mine for now.” He considered for a moment. “Speaking of gods, where are they all? You’re the only deity I’ve ever actually seen.”

  Ashralok’s expression shifted to something like surprise; another thing, perhaps, she thought he should already know. “Your people fought a war against them. Many were killed. Others were banished to the Ether Realm or here, to the Nether Realm.”

  “During the Godswar, you mean.”

  “I can feel Morvath and Nyriss’s presence here. The Phoenix bound them to this realm.” Her flames flickered thoughtfully. “As for the others—the Old Gods and the Six New Gods—they can traverse the realms freely but often choose not to. The Ether Realm is more suited to their power levels. If they were here for long, it could lead to some pretty bad situations.”

  Justin rubbed his temples, exhaustion washing over him in waves. It was a lot of information, a lot to process, and he still didn’t have a clear answer from Ashralok about whether they could stay out of each other’s way.

  “Let me put your mind at ease,” she said, pausing for effect. “At this point, I really don’t want to kill you. Or, in our case, allow you to die. I think we’ve developed a certain form of... empathy, if you will, that’s rare between a mortal and a goddess.” Her tone suddenly became gentle. “But you’re in way over your head.”

  Justin had a sinking feeling that she might be right.

  He sighed, looking at the crimson portal. Sleep first. He’d figure out how to handle a goddess who could easily threaten those he cared about... eventually.

  Gentleman’s Agreement had refreshed from his use of Upper Hand. At this point in the conversation, it felt pointless to even get a better deal going, unless he was willing to give up the Star, perhaps. But that would strand him here in the Nether Realm, so that was a no-go. Even if Ashralok was nice enough to do the exchange outside on Solanis, he would be stuck there.

  Ashralok had no reason to treat with him. And he had no way of fighting back. Technically, nothing in the Agreement said he couldn’t fight her, but he was certain that even with his Sapphire Gambit, it wouldn’t be enough.

  He wasn’t going to figure it out tonight.

  “So,” he said. “Thanks for answering all my questions. I know there’s nothing really keeping you here, but at this point, I can’t go on anymore.”

  “That’s understandable,” Ashralok said. “I will leave you be. And I wish you luck. I must admit, you handled yourself as best as you could. Will it be good enough? That’s difficult to say, Justin. Indeed, I considered having you do something else for me, some sort of errand... except I pity you. You are a Migrator far from home who never asked to be here.”

  Justin blinked, surprised at the kindness. Though at this point, he wasn’t sure if it was genuine.

  “And you were right about something else, too. You freed me from my prison, even if it was unintentional. I also underestimated your strength. A foolish mistake, given that same error landed me there in the first place. If there’s anything about you humans, it’s that you have a knack for doing the impossible. Best not to bet against that if there’s even a sliver of doubt.” She leaned forward. “Perhaps I’m wrong to laugh at your ambitions. I started from humble beginnings, too. If you want to go far, then I’m sure nothing will stop you. Just be warned that the path to power is a lonely road and not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  Justin nodded. “Thanks, I think.”

  “Now, it’s time for me to see how the Aetherion has changed.” She stood for a moment before the gate. “Farewell, Justin Talemaker of Earth.”

  And with that, Ashralok stepped through the gateway, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

  Justin’s mind was a whirlwind. She was a threat, and yet at the same time, she had helped him survive and even had the patience to answer all his questions for the past thirty minutes. For what reason? He couldn’t say.

  She was, in short, an enigma he couldn’t quite figure out.

  She was, he supposed, Ashralok of the Amber Flame. Whoever that was.

  “Atlas,” he said, patting his mechanical companion. “Guard duty while I rest.”

  Atlas gave an affirmative chirp, settling into a defensive stance.

  As Justin prepared to sleep, his mind raced with possibilities, none of them particularly comforting. When he woke up tomorrow—assuming he did wake up—it would be to his most significant choice so far in his progression: his Advanced Class.

  Ashralok’s warning rang in his head. She made a lot of sense. It was easy to blaze a path to power, telling yourself it was just for protecting yourself and those you cared about. But it was also just as easy to lose yourself along the way.

  Already, Justin had changed so much. He had always assumed it was for the better. But would he eventually become like Ashralok, no longer feeling anything when he had to kill? Had the Baron, his fellow Migrator, started much like him, or had his path been calculated and brutal from the start?

  It was impossible to say, of course. The last thing he saw before exhaustion claimed him was the empty corridor where Ashralok’s flames had been dancing moments before.

  He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but whatever it was, he would face it as a Level 20.