Beyond the refraction layer finally came the core. They climbed up inside it through the labyrinth of its shell, then took a two day break to give Dema rest before piercing into the final part of destruction.

It was a spherical, largely empty hall the size of an ocean. The Rains of Fire still made it inside through cracks in the ceiling, illuminating everything in soft honey glow. A deep humming emanated from a little island at the centre, barely visible from afar.

Dema had enough energy left to conjure a thin, long blood bridge to reach it.

“You said you memorised the path, Isobel?” Theora turned around to find her gaze, and saw her nod in response. “So, you’ll be able to leave without me?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Isobel said. “How long do you think you’ll be gone? Also, I don’t really get it. Where are you going to go, exactly?”

“I wanna join,” Dema said, sounding both defiant and pouty. “No telling me no again.”

“It’s not like I want to tell you no,” Theora replied, carefully. “I just don’t know what would happen if you tried.”

“I’ll be fine!”

Theora swallowed hard. “What if you won’t be fine? What if I end up losing you?”

Dema shook her head. “But you’re so sad lately. You’re in no condition to go anywhere alone. And you’re not even explaining anything. You said it was just one use, all this.” Dema pointed at the island at the core. “What did you [Obliterate]?”

Hints of memories flooded Theora’s mind at the question. An old grave. Her inescapable fate. Returning to her training grounds. Wanting to leave this world that asked too much of her.

But of course, she couldn’t leave. She could never truly leave; not before completing that impossible Main Quest, and this place was a grim reminder of that fact. Even this much destruction hadn’t been enough to grant her wish. Or, well, it had granted it, just not in a way that was helpful at all.

[Obliterate] did not grant wishes, it granted despair.

Slowly, the island came close enough to make out the details. It was an afloat slate of black rock with half a broken brick wall standing offside its centre. It had a door frame in it. Filled with purple-shifted folds, the frame kept sucking up little motes of igniting dust — they appeared out of nowhere in its vicinity, and then fell right in.

There was nothing else in the frame except subtle distortions of air. The glowing particles extinguished when they hit the frame’s plane.

“Wait, is that… your hut?” Isobel asked, tilting her head. “It’s hard to look at.”

“Don’t look at it,” Theora said. “It’s what remains of it, yes.” She turned to Dema. “I’m not sure what exactly I targeted, back then. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I only remember sitting in that home, or… maybe I was about to return inside. I think I recall what I wanted, but not the wording of what I told [Obliterate] to do.” She swallowed. “It may not even have been a clear wording. I think I lashed out. It was one of the first times I used it; I wasn’t aware of the… size of…”

She swallowed down her remaining excuses.

“I… didn’t want to stay in this place any longer. I wanted to go away. I think what I targeted was something similar to the concept of ‘being unable to escape,’ or perhaps, ‘being unable to go wherever I want’. I wanted to leave all of… this. Based on the result, it would make sense.”The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Wow,” Isobel let out.

Theora stepped from the blood bridge towards the door frame. “By destroying the concept of my inability to leave, I tore open the space between worlds. This… portal, I suppose, leads me wherever I want to go. Of course, it was a cruel subversion of my desires, as it does not, in fact, fix anything.” Theora bit her tongue. “I haven’t used it much beyond trying to understand what I had done, but I’m sure the System is aware of it, and thus gave me the task to find the Fragments of Time. Because it knows I can go anywhere.”

“Anywhere,” Dema murmured, and took a few steps forward too.

Theora nodded. “So, I will go to where the next Fragment is. The Fragments are hidden inside other realities. Of course, I don’t know any specific world where a Fragment might be, but the frame will probably point me in a suitable direction. And — that might be a location similar to what we know. But it could very well not be.”

Isobel scratched the moss on her shoulder nervously. “So you’re saying it could be trouble.”

“Yes.” Theora looked at Dema. “The rules of that other world might not allow for things such as us to exist. If we enter a reality that doesn’t understand a concept like [Immortality], you two could die there. And I’m not sure you would be able to survive a journey through these voids in the first place. That is why I’m asking you to stay behind.”

Dema curled her toes into the ground. “But all those things kind of apply to you too? What if you end up in a world where there’s no… Where you can’t be?” Her voice was getting thinner. “I think it’d be better to go together, so we can help each other out.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Theora said. “I can always force myself to exist. I do it all the time.”

Or, to be more precise, she could force herself to exist in this shape; one that was familiar to her and at least somewhat useful to the world, as opposed to denaturing into something far less amenable.

The statement was followed by an uncomfortable silence, so Theora added, “What I mean to say is — you don’t have to worry about me. It doesn’t matter where it takes me, I will likely be fine.”

“But like —” Dema made a few steps forward to take Theora’s numb hands. “Does it really take you where you want to go? ’Cause I kinda know you a bit by now. So I’m worried.”

Dema’s hands were warm. Theora didn’t want to let go. “In what way? Where else would it lead me, if not where I want to go?”

“Well… You get things confused sometimes, right?” Dema shrugged. “What if you mistake where you wanna go with where you think you deserve to go?”

Theora froze.

“Mom’s got a point there, mom,” Isobel said. “I understand that it’s dangerous, but we can’t have you go alone if you can’t even smile.”

Theora turned to look away, but didn’t let go. “So I don’t want anyone to join because I am worried about you, and you don’t want me to go alone because you are worried about me. How do we solve this?”

“I couldn’t have left that Cube of Solitude without you,” Dema said. “And you wouldn’t be back from space without us. Right? So we’re better off together. Doesn’t matter who’s worried.”

This was unfair, because it was both true and irrelevant. “The situations are different.”

Isobel shook her head. “You don’t know that.”

The truth was, the two had already won, because Theora still didn’t want to let go of Dema. She never wanted to let go of her. The thought of entering another reality alone was terrifying. Any world was better with Dema in it.

Theora turned to Isobel. “I go with Dema and you stay?”

Iso nodded quickly. “That’s fine! I got some ideas on how to help from here if things go bad, maybe. Plus, someone’s gotta stay with Bell. I’m pretty sure these Rains of Fire will make her struggle.”

“Speaking of Bell,” Dema said, “Let’s say goodbye before we go in.”

Iso nodded. “She’ll be really happy but she won’t say it.”

Shortly after, Dema’s words appeared in the party chat: ‘Hi Bell! Bun bun and I are gonna leave the world for a bit, but Iso’s gonna be back to cuddle you in no time!’

Bell answered with, ‘Take care.’

“Alright.” Dema tugged on Theora’s hands, and walked back towards the door frame. “Are you ready?”

With a nod, Theora followed. Isobel gently put an encouraging hand on her back and pushed gently.

Then, Dema and Theora plunged through the gap in reality side by side.

It felt like cold boiling water. It tasted of dry electric drizzle. Dema’s hands disintegrated between Theora’s fingers.

Then, Theora herself lost shape.