Die. Respawn. Repeat.

The main problem I'm running into right now is that I don't have any quality imbuement stones. Or really any imbuement stones. Thys and Thaht have a stash somewhere, as they've said, but neither of them can remember where they're kept and all the rest of their siblings are out... somewhere. Thys is clambering around in the basement, trying to find them. The stones, I mean. Not his siblings.

I'm starting to wonder if I need to pull off some kind of heist and steal whatever stash of imbuement stones Whisper keeps in the military base the Ringmaster mentioned.

"I think you should," Ahkelios offers. He peeks down over the fringe of my hair, and I blink as his head appears upside-down in my vision. "It's probably less boring than sitting here and watching you try to turn ordinary rocks into imbuement stones."

"I don't see you helping," I grumble.

Virin's technique for creating an imbuement stone isn't one I can easily replicate. I have a few ideas — the requirement for imbuement stones to be ordered and pure is something pretty easily fulfilled by substances outside the standard gems and crystals that I've seen so far — but I want to try the traditional methods first.

Not that the traditional methods are getting me anywhere.

"No luck?" Thaht asks sympathetically. He's lounging shirtless by the side of his workshop, staring down at me and the rock I'm unsuccessfully trying to convert. "Been there."

"This would be a lot easier if you just used your arena points to get some imbuement stones from the Ringmaster," I grumble.

"I would, but he's closed shop," Thaht says. "Part of the tournament. All prizes are handled strictly by the Isthanok military." His voice turns interested. "You've met him?"

My voice trails off, and I frown, thinking back on our original meeting. Two things stand out to me. The first is that whatever role he plays, it's related to the Trial or the Interface in some way — there has to be a reason his shop registers on my Interface. A reason he figured out I was a Trialgoer so quickly.

The second is the finger-twisting salute he gave me. The one that matches the one both Thys and Thaht used to greet me with.

"...Is he part of your resistance?" I ask after a moment.

Thaht cocks his head. "What makes you say that?"

I replicate the salute. "He did this when we first met."

Thaht frowns. "We don't actually know everyone that's involved in the resistance," he says slowly. "Information security, you understand. But he never greeted me that way when we met — and I've definitely greeted him with it."

"Maybe he joined recently," I suggest.

"Or someone on their side figured out the signal," Thaht mutters.

"I dunno. He seemed pretty genuine to me," Ahkelios comments. Thaht yelps, still surprised by the mantis whenever he chooses to talk — Ahkelios is pretty much content to lounge silently on my head otherwise, which usually leads to the people around us forgetting that he's even there.

"Let me go ask my brother if he knows anything about this," Thaht decides after a moment, his chest still heaving. He pauses, then glances with a critical eye down at the stairs toward the basement, where a bevy of particularly concerning noises have begun to emerge. "...I'll give him a moment. In case he's about to make something explode."

There is, right on cue, a muffled boom.

"Isn't he just looking for the imbuement stones you guys already have?" I ask, bemused. "How is he setting off explosions?"

"You don't want to know," Thys says with a sigh.

Apparently, Thys is the mad scientist between the two of them, which somehow doesn't surprise me in the least.

It turns out, when Thys re-emerges from the basement with soot caked all over his snout, that he has no more of an idea about the Ringmaster's potential status as a rebel than his brother does. He does, however, have more of a clue to offer.

"He always seems different every time I talk to him," Thys says thoughtfully. "And the hat he wears kinda hides who he is. You think maybe he's someone different every time?"

Now that's a thought.

Thys wasn't able to find an imbuement stone down in the basement, unfortunately, although he's insistent that he'll be able to find it with just a few more minutes of searching. His brother doesn't seem nearly as convinced.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Do you know where we can find him?" I ask. "Not saying we're going to go after him right now, but..."

"Honestly, I have no idea where he goes at the end of his shifts," Thys admits. "I tried to follow him once and he just vanished."

"Weird." And considering the Ringmaster's potential connection to the Interface, definitely interesting. Maybe I'll have to try following him the next time I meet him. Or maybe... "Do you know when the others are going to need us?"

Thys and Thaht exchange glances. "Not anytime soon, I think," Thaht says cautiously. "Why?"

"Do you remember where he vanished?" I ask, directing the question to Thys. Maybe I'll be able to find something with my Firmament sense that he missed.

"Uh... yeah. Pretty hard to forget," Thys says. "Nondescript alleyways are only nondescript until something interesting happens in them. Now it's, you know, descript. A descript alleyway."

"I don't think that's a word," Ahkelios pipes up.

I don't even bother commenting. The Interface is translating for me, and trying to figure out how it's managed to translate a wordplay related joke that happens to not be a word in all three of our respective languages is giving me a headache.

"Do you mind taking me there?" I ask. "We're not going to make much progress on these Firmament sinks without imbuement stones, and unless you can find the ones you have stashed away or I can miraculously figure out how to make one within the next few hours, this is probably our next best option."

"Maybe not the next best option," Ahkelios points out. "There's gotta be other shops in the city that sell imbuement stones, right?"

"Uh..." Thys glances at his brother, and then awkwardly looks around the shop. "Yes? But they're expensive."

"We'd have to steal 'em," Thaht says bluntly. "We don't have the money for it right now."

...And this isn't the loop where Tarin made a bunch of money betting on me, either. I suppose I could head back to the Arena and bet on him, but with his winning streak, I doubt the betting odds are going to be great right now.

"Let's try that if the Ringmaster thing doesn't work," I say with a sigh. "Not sure stealing is the safest thing to do in Isthanok."

"You'd be right about that," Thaht says. He rubs at his elbow, an almost subconscious movement; I glance at it but don't comment.

"So, the alleyway?" I prompt. Thys perks up.

"I'll lead the way!" he says. He pulls open the door to the workshop, and I wince as noise from the street suddenly floods in. "Follow me."

The stink of Firmament is strong enough that it makes me cringe as we step into the alleyway.

It's the first time Firmament has registered like this to my senses, too — stink. Like it's rotting. Normally, my Firmament sense acts a little like proprioception. Foreign Firmament registers to me with position and weight and density, all linked to me like it's an extension of my own body.

This, though? It's hard to describe, but somehow the way it all comes together in my senses causes it to manifest a distinct, sulfuric smell. I can still tell it's Firmament, but it's... unpleasant.

"Ugh," Ahkelios mutters, as if agreeing with me. I can sense this foreign Firmament pushing itself at him, as if attracted to him as a being of pure Firmament; the mantis waves irritably about from his position atop my head, chasing away the fumes. It's not very strong, luckily.

"Something wrong?" Thys asks, glancing back at me.

"Yeah, this place feels... wrong," I say vaguely, glancing around.

More accurately, it feels like a trap.

It's not impossible that Thys and Thaht are leading me into a trap, although I doubt that's the case. Both of them seem fully dedicated to fighting Whisper. I don't even think this is a trap that's meant for me. But the fact that it triggers my senses at all...

I frown. It's subtle, but this is a Premonition.

"Stop," I call out. The skill isn't giving me anything distinct — just a vague, uneasy impression. There is danger here. No direction, no magnitude. I can't tell if something's interfering with the skill or if the nature of the danger is too nebulous for the skill to give me any more information.

Thaht looks impatient. "This was your idea," he points out.

"I know. That was before I actually got here." I reach out with Firmament Control, trying to grasp at this strange Firmament with the skill. It's surprisingly slippery, sliding out of my mental grip even as I try to manipulate it; that, more than anything, convinces me that I need to figure out what's going on before I continue.

Especially since — and I grimace as I realize this — I can't just reset the loop if something goes wrong. Death would make almost this entire loop a waste. I have no guarantee that Tarin's plan in the Arena has borne fruit yet, and the rest of the rebels are still trying to learn what they can from Whisper's inner council. Ending this loop now is a lot of wasted effort.

I back up a few steps. Thys and Thaht, wary, back up with me.

"Just let me..." I mutter, and I activate Firmament Sight.

The alleyway explodes into color.

Four distinct colors, in fact, though the shades are so subtle I couldn't tell the difference with my Firmament sense alone. Each are a slightly different shade of dark red, moving erratically within the alleyway. There's no rhyme or reason to it that I can tell, but I do see wisps of Firmament trying to curl their way around Thys's hand, and I pull him back instinctively.

He gives me a questioning look. I ignore it.

Ahkelios. I speak through our link. Any ideas?

Try Phaseslip, he suggests through our link.

I frown. This doesn't feel exactly the same as out-of-phase Firmament... but he's right. There are similarities, and Phaseslip seems to enhance the information Firmament Sight is able to give me, anyway.

I activate Phaseslip.

Color resolves into shapes. Wispy Firmament takes on proper form, sharpening into distinct shapes, figures...

And I feel a coldness settle over my spine as four silhouettes of the Ringmaster appear before me.

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