Admiral's presence changed the room.

  I hadn't realized how comfortable I'd gotten around celestials until now. Athushar gave off calm wisdom. Sky felt gentle. Even Cobalt, for all their intensity, was easy to be around once you got used to the drill-sergeant energy.

  Admiral was different.

  The celestial's form was denser, darker—that deep navy blue I'd noticed before. And there was a weight to them that made the air feel heavier. Like standing next to a storm that hadn't decided whether to break yet.

  "My Blue Luminary," Admiral said, "the preparations are complete."

  "My" Blue Luminary. Not "Our" like the others say.

  I filed that away.

  "Excellent work, Admiral," Athushar replied. "Yuuki, this is Admiral. They will serve as your cutter."

  So the intimidating one is my barber. Great.

  "Admiral, you are confident you can make Yuuki presentable?"

  "Trust my skill, My Blue Luminary."

  There was something in Admiral's tone—not quite challenge, but not quite deference either. A tension I didn't fully understand.

  "Very well," Athushar said. "Yuuki, follow Denim to the fitting room. Your garments await selection."

  Garments?

  Wait—outfit?

  My mood shifted immediately.

  Okay, now we're talking.

  Here's something about me: I love fashion. Back on Earth, I watched every fashion reality show I could find. Project Runway, Next in Fashion, all of them. There's something about taking fabric and turning it into wearable art that just—it gets me, you know?

  I stood up fast enough that Cobalt actually startled.

  "Let's go," I said, probably too eagerly.

  Athushar and Admiral remained in the room as Cobalt, Denim, and I headed out. I caught Admiral watching me as I left—those deep blue circles tracking my movement.

  Creepy.

  The fitting room was another massive, mostly-empty space. But this time, there was actually stuff in it—racks of fabric, clothing pieces laid out on surfaces, materials I didn't recognize piled in corners.

  "Yuuki," Denim said, drifting toward the clothing displays, "these garments were crafted specifically for your kind. I researched what humans wear, based on historical texts."

  Historical texts. That's... probably not good.

  "Choose from these ten styles."

  I approached the selection and my heart sank a little.

  Yeah. These are ancient.

  Robes. Gowns. Draped fabric that looked like something out of a Greek mythology textbook. Beautiful craftsmanship, sure, but very much "thousand-year-old reference material" energy.

  ? Their knowledge of human fashion has not been updated since the last otherworlder arrived. ?

  Obviously. I wonder what humans actually wear in this world now.

  ? That would be interesting to discover. ?

  Still, I wasn't going to complain. Denim had clearly put effort into this. And honestly? Some of these pieces had potential.

  I moved along the rack, examining each option. Most were variations on the same theme—flowing fabric, minimal structure, lots of draping.

  Then I saw it.

  A robe-gown in deep blue, with a gradient that started light at the shoulders and darkened as it flowed down. By the hem, it was almost black—like the fabric was capturing the transition from day to night.

  Oh.

  Oh, this is beautiful.

  An idea hit me.

  "Denim!" I said, louder than I meant to.

  The celestial actually flinched. "W-what?"

  "What is it?" Cobalt added, stepping forward like there might be a threat.

  "I want this one," I said, pulling the blue gradient robe from the rack. "But I need to add something. Can I customize it?"

  Denim's form shifted—confusion, maybe? "Customize?"

  "Yeah. Do you have materials? Crystals, stones, anything reflective? And maybe some silver or white coloring?"

  "I... yes? We have various materials for embellishment—"

  "Perfect. Bring them."

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  While Yuuki threw himself into redesigning his garments, a very different conversation unfolded in the room he'd left behind.

  Athushar waited until the door closed fully before speaking.

  "Report, Admiral. What word from the other Luminaries?"

  Admiral's form shifted—a subtle straightening that conveyed formality.

  "My Blue Luminary, I bring word from Aderuti. The Purple Luminary requests heightened vigilance across all posts."

  "On what grounds?"

  "Rhydysseus." Admiral paused, as if the name itself carried weight. "The Red Luminary has sensed infiltration. Someone from your territory—from Ybará—has been compromised."

  Athushar's form flickered almost imperceptibly. "A spy. From the Empire."

  "That is the assessment, yes."

  Silence stretched between them. The Blue House hummed with ambient energy, but the room itself felt heavy.

  "And the otherworlder?" Athushar asked. "Aderuti suspects him?"

  "The Purple Luminary has... concerns. The timing of the boy's arrival, the reopening of a waypoint sealed for a millennium—these are not coincidences easily dismissed."

  "And what is your assessment, Admiral?"

  Admiral did not answer.

  "The boy hides something," Athushar said finally.

  "That much is obvious. His 'amnesia' is poorly performed. But..."

  "But?"

  "If he were truly connected to the Empire, his behavior would be different. More calculated. More careful." Athushar's tone carried reluctant acknowledgment. "He acts like someone confused and overwhelmed. Not like an agent."

  "Are we are in agreement Admiral?"

  "We are not." Admiral's form sharpened. "My Blue Luminary, I trust your wisdom in most matters. But when otherworlders are concerned—"

  "You believe I am compromised by my past failure."

  The words hung in the air.

  "I believe," Admiral said carefully, "that we cannot afford to make the same mistake twice. The consequences last time were catastrophic. If this boy poses even a fraction of that risk—"

  "He will be evaluated at the Prism," Athushar said. "All six Luminaries will judge him. If there is deception, it will be found."

  "And if it is not found until too late?"

  Athushar did not answer.

  "I will watch him myself," Admiral replied. "During the grooming. During the Prism. If he is what you believe—a confused child from another world—then no harm is done. But if he is something else..."

  "Then you will act accordingly?"

  "Yes, My Blue Luminary." Admiral replies.

  Another silence.

  "Go, then," Athushar said. "Attend to his hair. And Admiral—"

  "Yes?"

  "I hope, for all our sakes, that I am right about him."

  Admiral inclined their form—that equals-bow—and departed.

  Athushar remained alone in the empty room, contemplating the weight of choices made a thousand years ago, and wondering if history was about to repeat itself.

  Back in the fitting room, I had no idea any of that was happening.

  I was too busy arguing with Denim about crystal placement.

  "No, see, if we cluster them here, it draws the eye," I said, positioning a group of small stones on the robe's lower section. "But we need scattered ones higher up to create visual flow—"

  "Yes, yes," Denim said, catching on quickly. "The gradient already suggests depth. The crystals enhance the illusion of looking into a night sky—"

  "Exactly! You get it!"

  Cobalt stood behind us, arms crossed—or whatever the celestial equivalent of crossed arms was.

  "I don't understand any of this," Cobalt said flatly.

  "Fashion isn't for everyone," I said, grinning.

  "Yuuki," Denim said, and there was something warmer in the celestial's voice now. "I did not expect to find someone who shares this interest. Few celestials care about garment-making. We do not wear clothing ourselves, so it is considered... frivolous."

  "Well, it's not frivolous to me," I said. "And this is going to look amazing."

  We worked for a while longer—me directing, Denim executing with increasingly confident suggestions of their own. By the time we finished, the robe had transformed. The gradient was now scattered with crystals that caught light like stars. Silver threading traced subtle patterns along the hems. It looked like wearing the night sky.

  Perfect.

  The door opened.

  Admiral stood in the doorway, that heavy presence immediately filling the space.

  Right. Haircut time.

  "Yuuki," Admiral said. Not a question. "Your hair requires attention. Come."

  "Sure," I said, setting down the robe carefully.

  I followed Admiral to another section of the room, where a chair had been positioned in front of something I hadn't seen since arriving in Sphere.

  A mirror.

  Oh my god. Finally.

  I sat down and saw myself for the first time since dying.

  Same face—the shape of my features, the structure I'd known my whole life. But the colors were completely different.

  My eyes were gold. Bright, metallic gold, catching the light like polished coins.

  My hair was white. Pure white, falling past my hips in waves, with a faint luminescence I hadn't noticed before.

  Even my eyelashes were white.

  I look...

  I look really good, actually.

  ? You appear to be admiring yourself. ?

  Shut up. Let me have this moment.

  There was something strange about it—seeing my own face with someone else's coloring. Familiar and alien at once.

  It's me. But also not me.

  "What length do you prefer?" Admiral asked.

  Right. Haircut. Focus.

  "Shoulder length? Maybe a little below? It's been getting in the way during training."

  "Understood."

  Admiral produced something sharp—a blade of some kind—and began cutting. The movements were precise, efficient. Whatever else I felt about this celestial, they knew what they were doing.

  I watched white strands fall away, the length gradually shortening into something manageable.

  One thing's for sure. I don't have any physical insecurities in this body.

  ? You seem rather prideful, Yuuki. ?

  I said shut up.

  ? As you wish, Queen. ?

  I almost choked.

  Did you just—

  ? I am adapting my communication patterns to match yours. ?

  I'm genuinely flabbergasted right now.

  ? Good. ?

  When Admiral finished, my hair fell in clean lines just past my shoulders. Still white. Still slightly luminescent. But actually manageable now.

  "It is done," Admiral said.

  "Thanks."

  Admiral studied me for a moment—that evaluating look I'd felt before.

  "The Prism will determine your fate," Admiral said. "I suggest you present yourself honestly. Deception does not go unnoticed among Luminaries."

  Is that a warning? A threat?

  "I'll keep that in mind," I said carefully.

  Admiral turned and left without another word.

  Yeah. That celestial definitely doesn't like me.

  ? Admiral appears to suspect something. We should be cautious. ?

  No kidding.

  I bathed in a pond near the Blue House—swimming-pool sized, with that thick water I'd gotten used to. Celestials didn't bathe, so I had the space to myself.

  After drying off, I put on the finished robe.

  Standing in front of the mirror again, I had to admit—Denim and I had done great work. The gradient fabric flowed perfectly, the crystals caught light like actual stars, and the whole effect was exactly what I'd imagined.

  I look gorgeous.

  ? We need to leave. Stop admiring yourself. ?

  Killjoy.

  ? Practical. There is a difference. ?

  Sure, sure, sure.

  One last look—gold eyes, white hair, star-scattered robes—and I headed out.

  Sky met me in the hallway.

  "You look well-prepared," Sky said.

  "Thanks. Denim and I worked on it together."

  "Good luck, Yuuki."

  "Thanks, Sky."

  Sky guided me to the front entrance, where Athushar and Admiral waited.

  So Admiral is coming to the Prism with us.

  The one celestial who openly doesn't trust me. Great.

  The seven suns had reached their peak. The light was almost overwhelming.

  Then, in front of us, the air shimmered.

  A portal formed—vertical, luminous, that same water-like appearance as the waypoint.

  AI, that's—

  ? Similar to the waypoint portal, yes. This may simply be how portals manifest in Sphere. ?

  Right. Okay.

  ? Focus. The Prism awaits. ?

  I took a breath. Adjusted my robe. Felt the weight of the crystals I'd helped place.

  Let's do this, AI.

  ? We are ready. ?

  I stepped toward the portal.

  To the Prism. Where all colors meet.

  Time to see what these Luminaries are really like.