Martin vaulted over the barrier and was among the monster bulls, twirling with his swords, both of them glowing, one yellow and one light blue. Whenever Luke thought a monster would strike him with its horns, the Phase Blade, well, phased, and the attack went right through him without harm. Just by looking at him, you'd think Martin was invincible. Curtis, on the other hand, found himself pummeled by the herd of angry bulls, but each time one struck him, darkness bloomed from his body, absorbing the blow and splattering over the monster. That same darkness hurt every monster it touched, and even the undead felt it. Monsters roared in pain as their legs buckled and they tumbled over in heaps, acting as hurdles for the rest of the herd.

  A second tremble of the weave reached Luke, who drew in a sharp breath. This one wasn't from the void creature. The ripple of consequence told him of an action performed by someone else far, far away, and he grinned.

  "We'll soon have company!" he shouted.

  The flapping of wings broke through the cacophony of undead bull bellows. Luke looked up to see that his ride had arrived.

  "Luke!" the one they'd met earlier, Laila, shouted as she touched down. "Which of you is Luke?"

  Luke raised his hand. "Right here!"

  "You're a mad fucker, aren't you?" the other airborne Integrated shouted. He was wide, bearded, wingless, and spoke in a Scottish accent. "This better work, or we're all dead as rocks!"

  "It'll work!" Luke shouted back, stepping toward them. "Who'll carry me?"

  The cracks in the barrier grew at a worrying rate, and Laila glanced at them with obvious concern. Above them, the winged monsters screeched, diving for them. "Tor is your ride," she said, pointing at the approaching bats. "I'll keep them busy."

  "C'mere then, lad!" Tor shouted as he walked up behind Luke, wrapped a pair of thick arms around his lower chest, and lifted off the ground.

  When they rose from the ground in the helicopter, he felt a sucking sensation in his stomach. That was nothing compared to this, and he had a little trouble getting a breath from the powerful squeeze from Tor. Still, he yelled down to the rest of the group. "Don't engage Relian before I'm back! Like I said, we'll have help here soon enough!"

  Curtis was now standing on top of two undead bulls. He looked up and waved. "Safe flight!"

  With that, the ground disappeared under the three of them as Luke took to the skies. Wind buffeted his face as they rose higher and higher.

  Luke: "Johanson! How long until it gets here?"

  Johanson: "A minute. Can you survive?"

  Luke: "We'll see."

  "Where to, then, laddio?" Tor asked, the words snatched away by the wind.

  Chiropteran. Level 17.

  Chiropteran. Level 17.

  Chiropteran. Level 18.

  Three bat-like monsters hurtled toward them. Laila threw herself straight into the group, fighting with a spear, crying out like a valkyrie as she thrust again and again, killing one before pulling back with a long gash along her right bicep.

  "Up!" Luke shouted, pointing straight into the sky.

  Trying to heal her in this all too mobile situation was futile, and truth be told, his primary mission up there was a lot more important. Searching the skies, Luke saw nothing resembling a man-made apocalypse in missile form. Tor climbed higher, leaving the bats behind. Still, Luke saw nothing. Spotting it with his eyes was doomed. Rather than keep trying, he needed something else. What he needed was the weave. Relaxed, or as relaxed as one could get being hauled through the air by a knock-off Man of Steel, Luke focused. He'd sensed the attention from the void being along the threads. Luke was a Lifeweaver. The weave was his domain, The Greater System his to explore.

  A faint sense of something crept into the back of Luke's mind. Focusing on that, he did his utmost to bring about the same feelings from all those times he'd been on the verge of losing himself to low mana levels. Each time, the void-creature had been there, observing. Again, something tickled, almost within reach. Luke honed his focus and used every ounce of willpower, ordering that sense to come closer, to make itself known.

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  Breathing in through his nose, feeling a numbness spread through his fingers and toes, Luke reached out with a single thread of mana from his meta-heart. First, it touched nothing. Then, reaching, the thread scraped against something for the briefest of moments. At that moment, he saw it all. Everything. Information crashed in, and it was far more overwhelming than Weaver's Eye. Without even opening his eyes, information thrummed through Luke's being, pushed over the thread he'd just touched.

  Text scrolled over his interface.

  Converging ideas join together to create something greater than the sum of their parts.

  Profession skill lost: Sense Dungeon.

  Profession skill lost: Seek Threat.

  Profession skill lost: Ripples in The System.

  Profession lost: Seeker.

  Class skill lost: Weavesense.

  Class skill lost: Part the Weave.

  Class skill lost: Weaver's Eye.

  Class skill lost: Weaver's Will.

  Class skill lost: Weaver’s Echo.

  Congratulations! New Skill Learned: Weaver's Perception.

  Weaver's Perception [Passive]: Your understanding of the weave has reached a higher concordance, allowing glimpses of the threads that create, destroy, and bind all things.

  Boon of Potential grants you an attribute point (+1 Focus).

  Boon of Potential grants you an attribute point (+1 Intelligence).

  Boon of Potential grants you an attribute point (+1 Wisdom).

  Congratulations! You have reached level 17!

  Congratulations! You have reached level 18!

  Ignoring most of that text after making sure the lost Lifeweaver skills didn't mean losing their abilities, and it didn't, Luke pointed into the seemingly empty sky. "There! Hurry!"

  "I hope you know what you're doing," Tor said, his voice a rumble. "And this better not be a suicide mission."

  Luke grinned. "It's not."

  From that brief glimpse, he'd seen everything he needed. The pieces were falling into place, and there was a way through this without every Integrated blowing up, being torn into pieces by Relian, or even being touched by the void presence. Having seen so much, he'd learned one thing above all else. Attempting to fight the thing on the other side of the opening created by Relian was a sure way of dying. There was no standing against that. Not now, and as far as he could tell in that moment, not ever. But the problem of how to stand against something so powerful it could only be described as godlike was not for them to figure out that day. Survive and destroy The Fallen Shepherd. Those were the objectives, and the first part of that was approaching at incredible speed, heading straight toward them.

  "There!" Luke said, pointing. "You see it?"

  "I see it."

  "Intercept! Climb!"

  Tor groaned and upped their speed, changing their angle of ascent. Behind them, the bat monsters were climbing higher, having left Laila behind. Luke hoped she was still alive, but was happy to see the creatures falling farther behind.

  It was coming. A lone missile hurtled right toward them at incredible speed. Luke didn't even dare blink.

  "This is it," Luke whispered.

  Even with the wind screaming around them, Tor heard the words and answered, the words trembling. "Tak’ me wi’ yer licht, keep us frae harm."

  Luke raised his hand toward the missile as it outpaced even its own sound. It came in at a downward angle, and they moved to intercept. He held his breath, did his best, and failed to relax. He reached out with his hand. Falling just short of where it would pass them, Luke reached out with Threads of Mana in the last possible moment.

  The missile reached them and grazed the thread. An inch of thread less and it would have passed them by.

  Sighing in relief, Luke found Tor's arms squeezing him so hard he couldn't draw another breath.

  "Tor," he croaked, kicking back to get the large man's attention. "Too... Tight..."

  The grip lessened, and Tor turned them both this way and that, then toward the ground. "Did we miss it? Where is the damn thing?"

  "We didn't miss it," Luke said.

  Tor's voice was shrill and almost manic-sounding in Luke's ears. "Then where is it?"

  Luke laughed, finding the mad plan all too funny now that it had succeeded. "It's in my inventory!"

  Air rushed past as Luke fell. The ground rose up to meet him, and it felt like he was a second from death when Tor scooped him back up, swearing like a drunken sailor. "Tell me the plan next time!"

  "I almost died!" Luke sputtered.

  "We all almost died!" Tor shouted, easing his grip as if considering dropping Luke again. "You only fell a couple of meters! Promise to tell me next time!"

  Luke, hanging upside down, pointed. "Bats!"

  "Promise!"

  "Fine!" Luke yelled. "I promise I'll tell you next time I'm planning to pocket an armed nuke from the US military! Happy?"

  Tor lifted him enough so that their faces were right next to each other. "If I drop you, will it blow?"

  Grinning, Luke shrugged. "Maybe? I mean, it still says armed."

  Hellfire Mk.III Cruise Warhead (ARMED - STASIS).

  Tor swallowed hard. "Still armed? That's just suicide on layaway then! It'll blow if you take it out, won't it?"

  "Again, maybe?"

  Johanson: "Luke?"

  Luke: "Crisis averted."

  He surveyed the battlefield below them. Things didn't look good. And before that, the bats were getting close.

  Luke: "Well. One crisis."

  Johanson: "What happened?"

  Luke: "The nuke disappeared."

  Johanson: "Disappeared? What do you mean? It didn't hit its intended target?"

  Luke: "Nope. It just disappeared."

  Nudging Tor, Luke whispered conspiratorially, "Don't tell anyone I have a nuke, yeah?"