The throne room proper was massive in a way that made you feel insignificant just by standing in it. We waited until the Pretenders and their entourage had cleared out, leaving only the silent, rotating guard patrols. Vaulted ceilings disappeared into shadows dark and far overhead, painted with faded murals of the Blood Pact War. Brass chandeliers hung from chains that seemed too delicate to support their weight. Columns of white stone marched down both sides of the chamber, each one carved with geometric prayers in languages that nobody spoke anymore.
And at the far end, past the raised dais where the pretenders had spoken, stood the thing we had come to steal.
The Tear of the First Emperor.
It sat on a pedestal of black marble, enclosed in a case of what looked like glass but probably wasn't. The gem itself was the size of a fist, blue-black, and even from across the room I could see that something was wrong with it. Something moved inside that darkness. Something writhed and twisted and pressed against its prison with silent fury. It didn't look like a jewel. It looked like a bruised organ. A piece of the Remi, Nyssara had called it once - the weeping of a god.
"Don't look too deep," Malgrin warned, his voice unusually sharp. "That thing isn't reflecting light. It's eating it."
I ignored him. I needed to know the security layout. I activated Blood-Sense. And now I have to say, I wish I hadn't.
The Ink crept up my neck. My eyes went black. The physical world dissolved into greyscale wireframes, and the thermal signatures of the guards faded into the background.
Then I looked at the shimmering, eerily faintly glowing Tear. It didn't have a heartbeat. It had a scream.
The moment my senses touched it, the room vanished. The palace vanished. Nyssara vanished.
Iwas standing in a void of absolute, crushing cold. The Amenti. But it wasn't empty. Above me, filling the sky, was a single, massive eye. It was weeping black tar that smelled of copper and old rot. F???????????o????????????????????????????u?????????n???????d????????? ???????????????????y?????????????????o????????????????????u???????????.?????????????????????????? ?????????????????????????? The voice wasn't a sound. It was a vibration in my marrow. It tasted like sand.
I tried to pull back, but I couldn't move. My legs were gone. I looked down and saw that my body was turning into brass coins. My fingers were melting into slag.
????????????????????????? the Tear whispered. It sounded like my mother. It sounded like the Arena Master. ???????
"Get out of my head," I tried to say, but my mouth was full of coins. I couldn't breathe. The pressure was immense, the weight of a god's grief trying to crush a human soul into paste.
???????????????????????????? ?????????????? the voice purred. ???????????????????
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The black tar from the eye began to drip onto me. Where it touched, my skin hissed and turned to Kas—dead white bone. I felt my humanity, my Snof, being siphoned away. It felt good. It felt cold. It felt like I would never have to be afraid again.
??????????
"WAKE UP, YOU IDIOT!"
The shout was accompanied by a psychic slap that rattled my teeth.
Malgrin.
A claw of pure shadow erupted from my own chest, not attacking me, but slashing outward, cutting the connection between my mind and the Tear. The Shadow Prince roared, a sound of static and defiance that pushed back the god's voice.
"He is MINE," Malgrin snarled at the Tear. "He is already bought. Find another toy."
I gasped, sucking in air that smelled of jasmine and ozone. Finally, I was back in the throne room. I was on my knees. Blood was pouring from my nose, dripping onto the pristine white marble. My hands were shaking so hard I could hear my knuckles cracking.
"Yozi!" Nyssara was there, her hands on my shoulders, her face pale. "Breathe. Just breathe."
"I..." My voice was a wreck. I spat blood. "I saw it. It knows me."
"The barriers," she demanded, shaking me slightly. "Focus on the job. Don't let it win."
I forced myself to look at the Tear again, but only with my physical eyes. No magic. Never again with magic.
"Three layers," I rasped. "Red barrier. Fire. Silver barrier. Alarm. Black barrier... Void."
"Void?"
"It's a Shemmo gate," I whispered, wiping my face. "Touch the inner barrier wrong, and it doesn't just explode. It drags you into the Amenti. It deletes you."
Nyssara looked at the artifact, and for the first time, I saw genuine fear in her eyes. Not of the danger, but of the thing itself.
"We need the Seal," she said. "Lord Valric's Seal. It's the only key."
"Steal the Seal first. Then the Tear." I struggled to my feet. Malgrin was disturbed, walking up and down in my head, brooding, curled around my mind like a protective dog that had just been kicked.
"During the coronation?"
"Maximum chaos."
"You have a plan for chaos?"
She almost smiled. "I know people who specialize in it."
We spent two hours mapping escape routes. The first option was the servants' corridors leading to the kitchens and eventually to the sewers beneath the palace. Narrow and easy to block if someone knew we were coming.
The second option was a balcony on the western side...
...
I walked closer to the tapestry. Studied the First Emperor's posture. His right hand was cupped to catch his own blood. Natural given the scene. But his left hand was doing something else. The fingers were extended, pointing, and the angle wasn't random. It indicated a specific spot on the wall behind where the tapestry hung.
"Yozi?" Nyssara was watching me. "Where do you think you are going?"
I pushed past the tapestry and pressed my palm against the stone where the Emperor's finger pointed.The stone felt warm. Not from heat, but from friction; the friction of a thousand years of secrets. A silent click. A section of wall swung inward. Darkness breathed out from the gap, cold and ancient.
Nyssara stared. "How did you...?"
"The First Emperor built this palace. He knew there might come a day when he needed to disappear. So he left himself a map that only someone looking for it would find."
"Hidden in plain sight for three hundred years."
"The best hiding spots usually are." The passage beyond was old. Older than the palace; pre-empire construction, the stones worn smooth by centuries of forgotten feet. It sloped downward, away from the throne room, toward the canyon's depths.
"This goes toward the Portal," Malgrin said quietly. He sounded tired. "I can feel it from here. Cold and wrong and very, very old. Stay away from the deep dark, kid. I can't pull you out a second time."
"We mark this route," I said. "Come back when we're ready."
We left the passage and sealed it behind us.
As we walked away, I could feel the Tear watching my back. It was still hungry. It was still waiting for the spare change to drop.
Sixty-eight hours until the coronation.
The clock was ticking.
Performance Rating: ????? (5/5) Malgrin's Note: "That was too close. The Remi tried to liquidate your soul—literally. It tried to turn you into currency. I had to burn a significant amount of Gom to sever that link. You owe me. Big time. Next time, don't stare into the abyss unless you're planning to buy it dinner."
OBJECTIVE ANALYSIS:
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Target: The Remi [Tear of the First Emperor].
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Entity Class: Divine/Parasitic.
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Security: 3 Layers (Fire / Alarm / Amenti-Gate).
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Escape Route: The Emperor’s Passage (Confirmed).
HEALTH STATUS:
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Physical: Moderate. (Nosebleed, tremors).
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Psychic: Critical. (Soul-strain).
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Malgrin Status: Drained.
CORRUPTION: ████████?? (24%) - Significant Jump. The Tear recognized the Void inside you and tried to accelerate the terraforming. The Black Veins have spread past the elbow.