The beautiful morning light filtered through the windows of Gema's safehouse in Amethyst. He prepared himself with the practiced silence of a man used to being hunted—or forgotten. His kris was wrapped neatly in his samping. After adjusting his eye patch and donning a long white cloak, he took the legendary Excalibur, now wrapped in faded linen to hide its gleaming hilt, and stepped out.
Unlike other Kshatriyas, Gema had long ago walked away from his titles. He had spent decades living a simple, unremarkable life on Earth. Returning to Aurea felt like stepping back into a dream—one he wasn't sure he wanted to wake up in. He kept his hood low and his head down; for personal reasons, discretion was his only ally.
A Tycart waited outside, its handler ready to ferry him to the Cydro station. As the vehicle glided past the lively marketplace, the sharp, tantalizing aroma of grilled glutinous rice stuffed with spicy-sweet filling of grated coconut and shrimp sambal wafted through the air. It was a scent of home that Gema couldn't ignore.
"Stop here, please," he gestured.
He hopped off and made his way to the stall near the ancient pillar. He purchased extra treats for the handler before heading into the throng of the station, blending seamlessly with the crowd of miners, Shakti wielders, and cargo workers.
When the Cydro arrived, Gema stepped aboard the pressurized vessel. As the transport surged through the PSUCHE waterway, he watched the vibrant aquatic creatures and flowing auras through the glass—a reminder of the beauty he had sacrificed.
While others disembarked at Morganite, Gema remained. It was a rare thing for a commoner to travel all the way to the upper plate of Alexandrite. He gripped the linen-wrapped Excalibur, doubts flickering through his mind like shadows. He reached into his cloak, his fingers brushing the royal invitation scroll.
Was this journey back the right path?
The Cydro slowed as it docked at the pristine platform of the upper plate. As the glass doors slid open, royal guards stepped forward, blocking his path.
"Invitation for this area, please," the first guard requested.
"This should suffice." Gema handed over the scroll.
"Please remove your hood for identity verification," the second guard added.
As the first guard reviewed the scroll, Gema lowered his hood. The guards froze. Recognition washed over them, followed quickly by shock and reverence. They snapped to attention, saluting with precision.
"S-Sir Gema?! It is an honor to have you back, Sir!"
"Our apologies for the delay! Please, proceed."
Outside the station, a Tycart of liquid silver awaited him. The Ty pulling it was a magnificent creature, its fur perfectly groomed and shimmering. The handler, dressed in an immaculate uniform, bowed deeply.
"Lady Ria is expecting you, Sir Gema. Please."
The scenery became a dreamscape: emerald hills, trees shimmering with celestial light, and crystal streams that rippled like molten silver. The very air hummed with a life-affirming energy, untouched by the sorrows of the lower realms. Eventually, the cart stopped at a towering white wall. A deep, rushing moat separated the road from the fortress beyond.
"This is as far as I go," the handler noted.
"Thanks for the ride," Gema replied, his voice strained. "I'll try to keep the meeting brief."
"Oh, please," the handler smiled knowingly. "Take all the time you need."
The bridge descended with a heavy metallic clang. Standing on the far side was a silhouette Gema knew all too well: arms crossed, foot tapping with rhythmic impatience. Ria.
"Gema! You're late! Do you have any idea how long I've been standing here?" she snapped as he approached.
"Sorry, Ria. I was taking in the sights. It's been a long time."
"This is why you shouldn't have given up your title," she grumbled, guiding him to a secluded route on the far left.
Ria was a force of nature—powerful, loyal, and perpetually irritated. As she led him through a grand archway and past various high-security labs, Gema couldn't help but wonder about her true agenda. Was she helping him out of friendship, or was she interested in the power of the blade he carried?
"It's ridiculous. I can't leave the King's side for long, yet here I am, playing tour guide for an exile."
"I know. Can I see her now?"
"Impatient boy," she scoffed.
They reached an unassuming hut with an iron door that pulsed with hidden Shakti. Ria unlocked it with a triangular key, leading him down a spiral staircase into the cool, damp dark. At the bottom stood a stone door etched with ancient runes. Ria chanted, her fingers weaving purple Shakti in a clockwise motion. The door groaned open.
The chamber within was mesmerizing. Thousands of tiny green orbs danced behind a thin water barrier. In the center stood a massive object draped in faded brown cloth. Ria stripped away the shroud to reveal a figure that blurred the line between machine and soul. The biomechanical frame was elegant yet haunting, its surface rippling with a soft, iridescent light that seemed to mirror the swirling orbs surrounding it.
"This," she announced with pride, "is De Novo."
De Novo was a masterpiece of Menxtrok engineering—a complex lattice of glowing circuits and polished chrome that hummed with the rhythmic pulse of an artificial heart. Tapping the pearlescent surface, Ria revealed the occupant. Bathed in an ethereal blue glow was a young woman with golden curls, floating in a sea of purified orbs as though she were merely sleeping.
Gema moved toward the machine, his heart light with a sudden, overwhelming relief. He yielded the linen-wrapped Excalibur to Ria, who placed the steel into a pressurized cylindrical housing. The device instantly began to glow, its humming power vibrating against the stone walls of the chamber.
"You've done well retrieving a Shakti-filled relic from Earth—a place it never belonged," Ria said. "Countless souls are trapped in this steel. By extracting them, De Novo can use that energy to sustain the thing inside. Everyone wins."
"...Can you stop calling her a thing, Ria?"
"Why not? Whatever she is, she's dead, Gema. Clinging to the past is for idiots."
Ria pressed a button. A hiss of pressurized air sealed the chamber. Lightning-like beams lanced through the device, and Excalibur began to shudder violently. A swarm of minuscule shadowy figures—the souls of the fallen—erupted from the blade, their silent screams echoing against the glass as they tried to escape. Shakti-infused water surged in, swirling into a whirlpool. As the water touched the shadows, their anguish dissolved, transforming them into radiant, shimmering orbs of pure energy. These orbs streamed out through a vent, feeding directly into the De Novo chamber. Excalibur fell still.
"You're almost there," Ria nodded.
"Thank you, Ria," Gema whispered.
Ria's expression turned grave.
"Gema, tampering with the boundary between life and death is forbidden for a reason," Ria said, her voice dropping to a somber, hollow tone. "Turning a living Atman into a Celestion is already a profound taboo... but to attempt it with a dead one? The consequences will be dire, Gema. Be prepared." She placed Excalibur into a small, rune-etched pot that shrank with a click until it was no larger than a pebble.
"Whatever the outcome, I will embrace it." He rested his hand on the glass of the sleeping girl's chamber.
The walk back to the bridge was quiet. As they reached the gate, Ria handed him a scroll sealed with the royal insignia.
"Your next assignment," she said. "And Gema... if you're going to meet the twins at the Kshatriya meeting, don't be late."
"I understand. Thank you, Ria. Please... take care of her."
"Of course I will," she scoffed playfully. "But remember: once this is over, she is no longer my concern."
Gema boarded the Tycart for the return journey, his mind a whirlwind of hope and dread. As he reached the massive pillar at the Cydro station, he handed the handler the grilled glutinous rice he had saved—a small gesture of thanks. But as he stepped through the glass doors to enter the station, he collided with a towering, immovable figure. The force sent Gema sprawling. He looked up, his blood turning to ice. Staring down at him was a fearsome red mask with a long, beak-like nose.
No. Not now, Gema thought, his heart hammering. He can't know. If Purba discovers what I've done, everything is forfeit.
Purba reached down, lifting Gema effortlessly like a mere kitten.
"Hey, hey! Let me down!" Gema sputtered. "I'm no longer your trainee!"
"Been living on Earth for so long, and you're no longer a Kshatriya... so what brings you back here?" Purba's voice resounded, deep and heavy.
"I'm… meeting Ria," Gema said, his voice shaky. "All my benefits were revoked when I stepped down. I need some coins to survive on Earth."
Purba lifted Gema higher, bringing him uncomfortably close to the red mask.
"The moment you step feet in Aurea, the first person you MUST meet is none other than ME!"
In that instant, the world around Gema fractured. Time twisted; the flow of life became a chaotic dance of slow-motion stretches and jarring bursts. Clouds warped into grotesque snail shapes. The river's current reversed. Birds hung frozen in mid-air, their wings flapping in a stuttering slow-motion, while Morpho butterflies flickered in and out of existence like faulty holograms. The ground beneath him heaved like an angry sea.
Gema's senses overloaded. Abruptly, he was plunged into the Cydro waterway. Aquatic creatures appeared as monstrous, distorted shapes, passing through his body like ghosts. Gema choked, the water pressing down with unnatural weight.
Fighting for control, Gema's body unleashed a torrent of lightning. The bolts illuminated the distorted depths. Then, in a blur of motion, he saw Purba.
Purba stood at the center of the chaos, engulfed in a roaring inferno that erupted into a hellish explosion that tore through Gema's body like a supernova. It wasn't just heat; it was the raw, crushing weight of Purba's will. The world dissolved into blinding white light, then plunged into absolute darkness.
Gema awoke with a gasp, sprawled outside the Cydro station. The distorted world had vanished. Purba loomed over him, an imposing silhouette against the sky, his posture eerily still. Gema pinched himself hard; the sting confirmed he wasn't trapped in a nightmare. A single Morpho butterfly fluttered down, landing gracefully right on the long, hooked beak of Purba's fearsome red mask.
"Listen, Gema. If anything contradicts what you've just said..." Purba rumbled, "You will have a problem with me. And it will not be a pleasant one like what you went through seconds ago." He walked past Gema, an aura of simmering power crackling around him.
The guards at the entrance exchanged worried glances.
"Did you see that?" one whispered. "Sir Gema... he just crumpled. Like a puppet with its strings cut."
"Unbelievable. One moment he was standing; the next, he was on the ground, twitching."
Gema pushed himself to his feet, his legs like jelly. He had heard tales of the Leader's reality-bending Shakti, but experiencing it firsthand was entirely different. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. What kind of man could casually shatter the fabric of a person's existence?
"A-Are you alright, Sir Gema?" the guards stammered.
"Ah, yes, I'm fine," Gema replied, forcing a reassuring smile. "Nothing to worry about."
He walked towards the PSUCHE platform, trying to steady his breathing. Suddenly, a high-pitched voice cut through the hum of the station. The voice came from the ZOE platform.
"You there! STOP!"