She smiled but continued.

  “Every trial you’ve survived and passed,

  Each forged by fire, each meant to last—”

  Hope stepped forward, the tip of his spear stopping millimetres from the woman’s throat.

  “Whatever the fuckers in the sky told you to do… just fucking do it, and cut the cheesy crap.”

  The woman didn’t flinch. Her expression remained serene.

  She bowed slightly, the spear tip grazing her skin.

  “As you wish, dear champion, fierce and bold.

  But first—”

  There was a flicker in the space around them. Hope felt it—subtle, but there. Something had changed. What?

  He glanced around but sensed nothing wrong. The space felt the same. So did the wi—

  No.

  No, the wind was disturbed.

  “Let’s talk in private,” she smiled, “where their whispers run mild.”

  But that wasn’t what made Hope’s eyes widen. He stepped back, spear lowering slowly.

  Her eyes…

  One remained amber. The other turned blue—sky-blue.

  And Hope felt it. As those eyes locked onto his, they didn’t stop at his face. They stared through.

  Straight into him.

  The woman smiled again—refreshingly—and bowed. The gesture was refined, elegant, practiced.

  “Let me speak, with truth unmasked,

  My name is Selera—though none had asked.

  A hired act from Cinderwatch’s core,

  A showgirl born from corporate war.

  They pay me well to play the role,

  The final test. The last patrol.

  But—”

  She grinned as she raised her head, a mischievous glint blooming amidst the elegance.

  “Though paid I am to serve their stage,

  I dance for none who hold a cage.

  My fate, instead, sails far and wide,

  Where black suns burn and pirates ride.”

  Behind Hope, Eve had finally shaken off the shock that had gripped her the moment Selera’s eyes changed. A myriad of emotions flashed through her gaze—confusion, disbelief, astonishment. But she pushed past it, stepped forward, and raised her voice.

  “You’re a space pirate?”

  The woman smiled and blinked at her softly.

  “That is one way to name our flight—

  We chase the dark, evade the light.”

  “But then—”

  Selera looked at Hope, a flicker dancing in her mismatched eyes, a faintly seductive smile curling her lips.

  “We came for gold, for plundered ends,

  But found a gem that fate now sends.

  So why not end this script and stage,

  With one last act to steal the page?”

  Hope was completely lost now.

  The stupid rhymes. The freaky eyes. The shifting wind. Space pirates?

  What the fuck was going on?

  He took a deep breath, trying to collect himself.

  Whatever this was… it didn’t feel like part of the fuckers-in-the-sky’s show. Another party? Pirates? He’d heard the name before—vandals who roamed the dark corners of space, doing as they pleased, hiding from the law.

  Was Selera one of them? Had they entered in disguise?

  And this gem… the way she was looking at him…

  Did they—

  “You want me?” Hope asked, still dazed.

  Selera’s lips curled into a calm, unreadable smile. A breeze fluttered around her as her mismatched eyes glimmered—amber and sky-blue, one watching his face, the other seeing through him.

  “All want you, with open arms,

  Your worth could shatter royal charms.

  Who wouldn’t wish, with hunger grim,

  To claim a Spacetime Magus under him?”

  Hope narrowed his eyes—and then looked up at the sky above.

  Eve’s voice came from behind, cutting into his confusion.

  “Hope, she’s cloaking the area with an illusion. Selera’s using both Electromagnetic Magika to bend the light, and Air Magika to distort wind and sound. The ones above… they’re seeing something else entirely. They can’t see us now.”

  Hope turned to her, frowning.

  “So then… she’s really not part of their game?”

  Eve didn’t answer immediately. She looked at Selera again, her expression shifting from wary to something else.

  “No. She’s not.”

  Hope stared at her. Something didn’t add up. Eve never spoke this certain.

  “How do you know?”

  Eve sighed, hesitated, then met his eyes.

  “Because… she’s a Zephyriad. And Zephyriads… can’t lie.”

  “What!?” His jaw dropped slightly. He turned back to Selera, who stood composed, smiling gently.

  “What the… a Zephyriad?” he muttered, the word unfamiliar on his tongue. Then, more quietly to Eve: “What the hell is going on?”

  "Selera’s definitely not one of them. She’s with a space pirate crew—probably infiltrated this show to steal from the hosts and the wealthy sponsors behind it. And now… it seems their plans have changed. They… they’re interested in you, Hope."

  Hope shook his head slightly.

  “This is insane,” he muttered.

  He looked at Selera again. “So that’s it… you came to snatch me… from the fuckers in the sky?”

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  Selera tilted her head and smiled, that flicker of grace never leaving her face.

  “Indeed we came, with cloak and charm,

  To steal the gem from heaven’s farm.

  The sky-born lords would use your might,

  But we would see your fire take flight.”

  “I suppose I don’t have a choice, do I?”

  “You’ve always had a voice, a will,

  To kneel and break, or rise and kill.

  Stay bound beneath their gilded dome—

  Or sail with us, and call space home.”

  Hope chuckled.

  All felt so surreal to him.

  Actually… everything had felt surreal since this stupid show began.

  But the decision?

  That was clear.

  While the pirates didn’t have the best of reputations, and Selera’s rhyming antics annoyed him more than he wanted to admit, the alternative under those fuckers was far worse.

  Perhaps… this was the better madness.

  “Ok then… but… if I could ask one condition, even though I know I’m in no position to ask,” he said, calmly now. “If in the future I gain the strength I need… these fuckers in the sky… can I kill them all?”

  Selera's smile turned razor-sharp.

  “If wrath you bear, and blade you wield,

  The stars themselves shall be your field.

  Let tyrants fall and planets quake—

  The choice is yours, make no mistake.”

  She turned, as if to signal their departure—

  But then… she froze.

  Her eyes widened, breath catching, arms trembling as if she’d seen a ghost.

  She wasn’t staring at him, but… at Eve?

  Hope turned quickly, alarmed, his spear instinctively twitching to life—only to find Eve standing calmly, nodding back at him with a soft smile, as if nothing had happened.

  What the fuck was that?

  He looked back at Selera. The pirate woman was still a bit pale but regaining her poise, though something about her stance had shifted—wariness now lining her frame.

  Did Eve do something?

  “Hope,” Eve said softly after a moment. Her smile widened, full of strange warmth and quiet farewell. “Take care on your journey… and never lose who you are. This time with you—I’ll treasure it.”

  She bowed slightly.

  Huh?

  “Eve…”

  “We’ll depart here,” she continued. “I… I have to return as soon as this is over. They will pick me up. And I don’t know if we’ll ever see each other again, but…” she smiled wider, eyes sparkling. “It would be nice to hear of you in the future. You did make a promise, right? That when you become that warrior ‘fighting planet-sized monsters, jumping between galaxies, slicing warships in half with some lightning sword, punching through mountains, and riding fire-breathin’ space dragons while laughing like a maniac’—you’d owe me a favour, whatever I asked?”

  “That… well, yeah,” Hope scratched the back of his head, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “I mean, of course, Eve. And… thanks for everything too! I’ll remember you for sure. Like, always.”

  He looked at her, eyes steady.

  “And don’t worry. Wherever you go… I’ll find you. So just count the days.”

  Then he blinked, stepped forward, and pulled her into a tight hug.

  Eve stiffened at first, caught completely off guard—but then let out a breath, smiled, and returned the gesture with soft, steady arms. Her face flushed faintly, but she didn’t pull away.

  “Alright then,” Hope said as he stepped back. “Guess this is goodbye, huh… my dear friend Eve. Gotta admit, you’re the only real friend I’ve got right now—only one still alive, anyway. So yeah… good luck with your family and all that Citizen stuff with fancy tea and everything.”

  Eve chuckled. “And you with your orange juice. And… keep being rad, Hope.”

  “Wait… there was that word now… touché, right? Haha, I’ll remember that one,” he waved back.

  Selera behind them seemed oddly calm with the long goodbye, like… giving them face or somethin’. Weird. Hope didn’t give it much thought, as he turned to her and nodded.

  The graceful woman smiled gently.

  “The curtain falls, the play must end,

  No coin can buy what moments send.

  So close the tale, with breath held tight—

  We vanish now, into the night.”

  And then… they disappeared.

  A middle-aged man sat calmly on his worn armrest chair as he watched the display before him.

  He had to admit, the woman Radley had hired for the role was a fine gem in her own right. That kind of charm was rare these days. Even if her poems felt a bit overdone to him, he figured some of the older folks out there enjoyed the theatrics.

  Now, the final act was upon them. What would the child do? Either way, the offers had already far exceeded expectations.

  Some old friends of his had even placed bids behind the curtain—deals that would cover the entire cost of the show several times over, including multiple Grade-D planets and even potential mining solar systems on top.

  His smile widened. Heck, if not for the sake of the show’s reputation and the benefits that came with honouring its nature, he might’ve wanted to keep the kid for himself—maybe take him as a disciple, shape him into a proper spacetime mage. Grade C might limit his future slightly, but the potential of a Magus… was undeniable.

  What a discovery! Perhaps—no, without a doubt—the most talented Crawler he had ever seen. And now, here he was, live on Cinderwatch’s grand special.

  The stars truly aligned today.

  The bottle beside him uncorked itself, floating gently as it poured the amber-like liquid into a smooth glass, a large square block of ice already waiting inside.

  A moment later, the man extended his hand, and the glass drifted over, nestling into his palm as he motioned to take a sip, eyes still fixed on the screen.

  Yet… why was it taking so long?

  For god’s sake, did that woman not know how to wrap things up?

  He shook his head and took another slow sip. Well, whatever… she was beautiful enough to get a pass.

  Seconds passed. He zoomed in on the kid’s and the girl’s expressions—such naive, innocent faces. The girl was annoying, sure, but hell, she’d guided their champion. Let her return to whatever high noble family she came from and be done with it.

  He exhaled, bringing the glass back to his lips—

  And froze.

  His eyes narrowed.

  “What the hell…”

  They had disappeared.

  How?

  He didn’t delay. His body vanished, cloaked by bending space itself as he reappeared closer, scanning the spot. An illusion? They warped? And masked it?

  That woman’s doing? A spy?

  And they’d done it right in front of him. A Tier 3 Spacetime Mage.

  “The nerve…”

  With a sharp twist of his will, he shattered the formation, bent space back to its prior shape, traced the path of their jump, and slipped through.

  “Where—”

  But the moment he arrived, he felt it.

  A sharp blow to the soul. His mind reeled, instincts screaming as space warped unnaturally around him.

  A Domain. Another Tier 3!?

  His teeth clenched as he fought to understand the situation—then his eyes locked on hers.

  “Well, if it isn’t ol’ Matthew himself,” she grinned. “Quite the show this time, wasn’t it?”

  Matthew’s eyes narrowed, but deep in his gut, something twisted. His fingers trembled as he took in the heavy long coat hanging still in weightless space, the crude leather patch over her left eye, and the rune-etched artefact arm.

  Atop her head sat a wide, dark tricorne—an archaic piece made all the more unnerving by the emblem stitched in silver thread across its front: a tattered black banner caught mid-flicker, ghostlike, with a single hollow eye staring from its centre.

  The infamous… Phantom Eye.

  Matthew’s throat went dry.

  Of all the cursed symbols to show up here—why hers?

  His back tensed, and though he tried to steady himself, the pressure inside his chest mounted. Not just surprise—fear.

  The Purple-Eyed Wraith… Syra Vane.

  She shouldn’t be here.

  She couldn’t be here.

  He tried sending a signal back—cut off. Sealed?

  Her grin widened.

  “Well… not in the mood for chatter. Thanks for the gifts and—pleasure doin’ business, as always.” She gave a wink, then vanished into space with a ripple of laughter echoing behind her.

  Matthew stood still, jaw tight, lips pressed into a line.

  The space around him cracked, trembling under the force of his clenched fist.

  How… how could they be this unlucky?

  Why her? Why now?

  Did she know about the boy?

  A leak—no, a Whistler. A rat. Someone on the inside must’ve sold them out. One of Radley’s people? Someone from distribution? Or… one of the sponsors?

  He closed his eyes, as he forced his thoughts into order.

  This was bad. Very bad.

  With that woman involved, they’d be long gone before any trace could be picked up.

  His fist tightened further.

  “Fucking pirates…”