Dema gingerly poked her head back into the door frame. “You sure? I can come in?”
“Of course you can,” Theora answered. “Please do.”
Dema smiled. “Alright, I’ll do that, then.”
She made inside, her feet tapping along the floor quietly — and slowly, as if she was scared of Theora hopping away at the last second. But when nothing seemed to happen even after getting close, Dema sat down on the ground, gleaming up.
Theora couldn’t bear sitting higher, so she pushed the chair away and knelt on the ground too, kneading her fingers. “I’m sorry for avoiding you.”
“Sometimes we gotta have a little space, I guess.”
“You are too kind to me.”
Dema’s eyes glowed in the dim room, her cloak was messy and torn and made her look a bit like a mountain. A very small mountain. “You wanted to talk?” that small mountain then asked, with a hint of worry. “Not breaking up with me, are you?”
Theora froze. “We aren’t even—” She hesitated. “Are we even…?”
Dema tilted her head in confusion.
The entry door opened again, and hushed whispers, squelches and knocks went down the corridor. When Iso passed by the room, she immediately said, “Oh, hi, momsies!” and was about to walk in, only to be wrapped in a whole bunch of Bell’s tentacles that then dragged her back out as she yelped helplessly. Soon thereafter, both scuttled away into deeper parts of the house.
Dema snorted as she watched the mist of acid vapour dissipate in the door frame, and then put her eyes back on Theora.
But Theora couldn’t get a single word out. For a while, they just stared at each other.
Eventually, Dema hopped up.
Theora’s heart sank. Had their time already run out? That’s right, Dema had other obligations. She needed to go to that coming of age ceremony, after all. Theora let out a sudden, but subdued sob.
“Wha!” Dema yelped. “What’d I do this time! Didn’t even touch you, I swear!”
Hearing these words made Theora curl up, dragging her legs closer. “You can touch me if you want to,” she murmured, almost a whisper. “That never changed. I’m sorry to make you feel bad about it. It was not on purpose.”
Dema nodded slowly. “Yeah… Didn’t wanna make you cry again. And you never reached out since then, either, so I wasn’t sure if…”
How could Theora reach out to someone she’d left behind for so long? It wasn’t a fair feeling, to Dema least of all, but Theora couldn’t help it.
And yet, this couldn’t go on. They couldn’t keep hovering around each other in this way. It hurt too much.
And so, despite herself, Theora raised her arms slightly, in a hint of an offer. And the moment Dema saw it, she jumped forward, and wrapped herself around Theora.
“So tight,” Theora let out as she felt Dema’s unhindered strength. “Are you sure you are not hurting yourself?”
But judging from the pleased sounds Dema was letting out as she pushed her head into Theora’s chest, it was probably fine.
Carefully, Theora grazed her fingertips through Dema’s hair, scratching her head, and holding her up with an arm around her back.
Theora took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry for leaving you trapped in that awful place for so long.”
Dema suddenly let go, half-sitting on Theora’s lap, and cupped both of Theora’s cheeks. “Why, thanks for letting me out? It’s so much better here, not gonna lie.” She used her thumbs to wipe away a tear. “Plus, if I ever get sealed again, I know you’re gonna break me out the same day.”
Theora nodded. “Wouldn’t let you wait even for an hour,” she said. “Even for a second.”
Dema giggled. “Yeah. And you’re gonna help Time get out too, and we’re gonna help Treeka. As soon as we can. Right?”
“Yes,” Theora said. She took another deep breath, but before she could even finish it, suddenly the world turned upside down. Dema was somehow pulling her up, and within a few seconds, they were wrapped around each other.
There was blood everywhere. Dema was using her Skills to weave some kind of hammock for the two of them to lie in. The blood was crystallised and hard, but it was also warm and curved in ways that felt nice and cosy against Theora’s body.
“Gotta make up for lost cuddle time,” Dema declared.
Closing her eyes, Theora focused on the soft feeling of Dema completely pressed against her, and wanted to doze off. A last bit of rest before she’d spend weeks travelling through the highest skies. But then, her eyes sprang open again.
“You’ll take the Shade, right?”
“Yeah,” Dema said. “Shady’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna keep it safe together with the time dilation device and all. Don’t have to worry about anything!”
“Shady,” Theora echoed. “You named it Shady? Because it’s a Shade?”
“Why, what’s that got to do with anything? It’s short for Shadow Daisy.”
“... Of course.”
Upon leaving, Theora’s multidimensional attire would be almost empty. That way, it would be easy for her to find things that she needed, instead of littering the universe with trash.
“I’m really glad I have you,” she murmured into Dema’s shoulder, and felt the hand on her head make a happy twitch in response.
“We can keep in touch through the alliance chat,” Dema said. “I’m gonna check in every minute!”
Theora chuckled softly. “Every minute? That’s a lot.”
“Nah,” Dema said. “Not even close to enough.”
That much was true. Even that much wouldn’t be enough.
Theora said, “You need to get going, right? To the ceremony?”
Dema scrunched up her face. “Will you still be here when I get back? For more hugs.”
“I’ll stay and wait for you.”
“Alright,” Un said, a few days later. They stood in a large engineering hall which had been explicitly dedicated to Theora’s mission into the Grand Voids. It was next to an astronomical observatory, and a library had been erected right to its side, mostly from Dema’s crystallised blood. As a headquarters, this complex would be the ground control of the mission.
The hall itself was filled to the brim with resources. Huge, thick bars of gold, some rock Dema had excavated, and tons of condensed blood crystals — all round shapes, with indents to allow being gripped. They lined the halls in shelves up to the ceiling.Stolen novel; please report.
In the middle of the hall rested five iridescent spheres, carefully laid out in velvet, protected by a barrier created by Bell. Behind, a multitude of banners were draped over frames, showing models of the solar system with complex lines drawn across, all annotated meticulously.
Bell stood next to her barrier, leaning against it. Isobel was deeply entrenched in a conversation with another scholar. Dema was playing catch with the child of a researcher. Other than that, hundreds of people were busy in the hall, with logistical tasks, inspections, and discussions.
“Ready for the proposal?” Un went on, and Theora nodded. By now, she had a good grasp on what they were planning to do, but this meeting would serve to finalise it all.
At that, Un clapped their hands, and about everyone started dropping or finishing what they were doing, and formed a large circle around the centre of the hall. Some other people were called in from outside, and eventually, Un cleared their throat.
“Timestamp; fourteen hundred fifty-five since Hallmark’s founding, tenth month, and eleventh day.” A few people were taking notes of every word Un spoke. “Today, we shall formally decree our strategy to elude the Ancient Devourer. Session led by Un of Heofen.” They took a deep breath, then looked at Theora. “I am conversing with Theora, the Sun of Heofen. Are you present?”
Theora nodded.
“Let it be known that the Sun of Heofen has answered non-verbally in the affirmative. Alright.” They turned, and made a wide hand gesture toward one of the maps. “Divination procedures expect the arrival of the Ancient Devourer within the next two months. The goal of the operation is to use the Sun of Heofen as bait, to lure the Ancient Devourer off its trajectory. According to our calculations, in order to lure it away safely, Theora needs to arrive at the destination within 28 days. To assure as little damage as possible to our planetary system from the Ancient Devourer’s gravitational waves, we have concluded a minimum safe distance.”
Un pointed to a spot well outside the planetary system, marked with a large green circle, describing the act as they did.
“However,” they went on, “Even after accumulating a great amount of resources, it will not be possible for the Sun of Heofen to traverse that distance in time for a distraction while maintaining communication. We have thus concluded a maximum practical distance we could reach instead.”
They pointed to a yellow square while speaking their action aloud. It was within the orbits of numerous objects turning around the sun, a lot closer than the green circle. There was a number attached to it — 500 billion universal units of distance.
“Reaching this spot is thus the goal of the operation. Meeting the Ancient Devourer there might mean some calendrical disturbances due to shifts within planetary positions in the system, but is still projected to keep Himaeya intact and its population alive.”
Lastly, they pointed to a red cross at the inner edge of the solar system, calling out the gesture for archivists to record it in words. “This area denotes the minimum distance Theora would need to travel. If Theora fails to get this far, our home planet would likely be destroyed. Note that merely reaching this far does not constitute success, for it would still be possible that the Ancient Devourer might behave in unpredictable ways, or that they do not care for the bait.”
“Yeah, like that’d happen!” Dema interjected. “Bun Bun’s irresistible!”
Stunningly, a rather large portion of people actually felt like laughing.
Un cleared their throat, a little smile on their lips. “Right. Let’s hope Dema is correct in her assessment. Now, for the actual procedure.” Un turned, walked a few steps, and waved a hand across the spheres. “After reaching out to several institutions and high-level heroes across the planet, we have managed to source four Orbs of Seven Wishes. Adding the one currently in Theora’s possession, that makes five. We have been able to confirm with our [Diviners] that these are all Orbs of Seven Wishes that currently exist in this world. In other words, we have five days of flight.”
Un retraced a path along the map indicated by a white, dotted line. It wasn’t a straight line; it curved around other planets of the solar system and went from one foggy blotch to the next.
“Initially, it was believed that simply accumulating acceleration would be enough, and that we could thus reach the green circle,” Un said. “Theora offered to ‘make herself immovable’ to stop her own acceleration once she reached the green circle, even after the effects of the Orb of Seven Wishes have long ceased — however, concerns have been raised that without a clear frame of reference, Theora’s ability to will herself immovable may be impaired, and we have no way to test the hypothesis.
“That’s why her final destination will be this patch of magic mould. On her way there, she is scheduled to traverse through fourteen other patches, to maintain communication. Since a patch of mould will dampen her velocity, she will need Orbs of Seven Wishes to navigate them. In addition, it has been deemed necessary for Theora to be able to move during the encounter with the Ancient Devourer, in case of unforeseen circumstances, especially since she will land in mould and would be stuck without an Orb. That means one Orb of Seven Wishes will have to be used during that encounter and can’t be used for the journey. Another, of course, will have to be used to help her leave the planet’s orbit.”
Un took a deep breath, and immediately, a child broke from the circle and ran up with a glass of water.
“Thank you,” Un said after taking a sip. “We have calculated countless different routes, but there are many other magical effects within our planetary system that are not well catalogued, so we have to assume some things will go wrong.”
Un went on to explain the entirety of the route in excruciating and long-winded detail — obviously necessary for a complex operation such as this, where a single mistake could spell the end of the world. If Theora missed a patch, she would be unable to reach another, due to lack of guidance from ground control. Theora had no way of navigating the Grand Voids on her own. And if any of the patches had changed or disappeared since being mapped by the Protans, she would fail.
Theora was used to solving things alone. There had rarely been situations where she needed to rely on others to this extent. It was possible that someone else’s mistake — a miscalculation, a loose inspection, or a leap of logic — could completely doom the mission from the start, leaving her with no way to succeed.
She couldn’t simply [Obliterate] the problem away. She could not [Obliterate] the distance between herself and the green circle, because then the world would be too close to the creature. She couldn’t [Obliterate] the creature because of its trajectory — and perhaps, because of its size. It was impossible to tell if that Skill of hers was actually strong enough to destroy a target thousands of times larger than the sun. She’d never tried.
And, each further large-scale use of [Obliterate] might affect the creature’s behaviour, or even keep it from changing its course later. Worst case, it could attract another of its kind, if there were any.
So, Theora needed to trust everyone in this hall. And she was ready to, because it was Theora’s mistake that had brought them into this situation in the first place. She had attracted the creature. With her extensive record of messing up and making everything worse, she considered every single person present more trustworthy than herself.
And yet, all people made mistakes.
“Do you agree with the strategy as laid out?” Un asked, after outlining the meticulous ordeal.
Theora nodded.
“Wait!” Isobel yelled out, and ran a few steps into the circle. “You didn’t explain how she’ll get back!”
Un shifted their gaze, acknowledging Isobel for a few seconds without saying a word. “Getting the Sun of Heofen back to earth is outside the scope of this mission,” Un said. “However—” They gestured to one of the Orbs of Seven Wishes. “The current strategy withholds one Orb as contingency. In case everything goes well, it might never be needed.” They turned to Theora. “In that case — would you be able to use it?”
This question shifted something in Theora’s brain. It was like, very suddenly, the world made a lot more sense.
Would you be able to use it?
Un was referring to one of the seven wishes. A wish Theora had considered so out of reach she’d dismissed its existence entirely from her mind. It resurfaced only now that Un brought it up.
Her eyes flickered to Dema.
“Yes,” Theora said.
Un nodded. “If you succeed with the mission without using that last Orb, you can use it as you see fit.”
By the time Un finished, Dema was traipsing into the circle. “Alright, now that everything’s cleared up, I have an announcement. I changed my mind.” All eyes went to her, and she smiled, and shouted, “I wanna join!”
Un blinked. A few people murmured among themselves, and some were stunned into silence.
“How would you possibly join?” Un asked. “This was discussed, wasn’t it?” They turned around for aid.
It was true — the possibility of Theora not going into space alone had been negotiated in-depth, and resoundingly rejected due to a mountain of issues.
“Why, Bun Bun’s gonna take her attire, right? Can just put me in. So if things go wrong with the big creature, I’m gonna help. She just has to pull me out. Also, I can splash out blood to help with going faster.”
“Dema,” Bell’s voice whiplashed through the hall, echoing against the walls. Some people flinched as she made her way inside as well. She gave Dema an unyielding glare. “You have to stay.”
Surprised, Dema raised her brows, looking at the others in the inner circle for help. “What? Why?”
At that, Bell’s eyes glanced over to Theora, and she bit her lip. She seemed to be fighting with herself. Finally, she grabbed Dema’s wrist, her venom sizzling against the ash-coloured skin, and proceeded to drag her off. “We need to talk. In private.”
Theora frowned after them.
Once both of them were out of sight and the murmurs in the crowd went quiet, Un cleared their throat a final time. Referencing Theora’s earlier gesture, they declared, “Let it be known that the Sun of Heofen has non-verbally agreed to the strategy as laid out. I hereby conclude this session. Thank you all for your hard work.”