The girls stared at the open sarcophagus, their mouths agape.

  Master Reimi, the voice in ourheads continued, a faint note of what sounded almost like disapproval coloring its polite tone.

  It has been quite some time. And you appear to have... soiled your attire. Might I suggest a cleansing routine after we've concluded our current business?

  "I'm busy," I grunted, pointing a thumb at the frozen block of ice. "Deal with him. Entropic Saturation. Stage three, at least. Full systemic decay."

  The sarcophagus seemed to consider this. The light within it pulsed thoughtfully.

  An... irksome affliction, the voice noted. Most worlds facing the Blight have developed rudimentary resistances or cures. How delightfully primitive of this world.

  "Can you fix it?" Maya pleaded, taking a hesitant step forward, her tear-streaked face full of desperate hope. "Please? Can you save him?"

  There was a pause.

  A cure is possible, of course, the sarcophagus replied smoothly. A prognosis, however, is contingent upon a full analysis. The subject will need to be placed within the containment field. I must warn you, Master Reimi, the procedure is... expensive.

  "Yeah, no kidding," I muttered, scrubbing a hand over my grimy face. "Just give me the bottom line, Majalis. What's the damage? It shouldn't be too bad with the amount he was exposed to, should it?"

  The procedure to reverse advanced-stage Entropic Saturation even for a regular human, factoring in the energetic cost of trans-dimensional soul-weaving and stabilization of the subject's anchor to this reality, will require a minimum of 4,500 Aetheric Units. Possibly more.

  I froze.

  I stared at the floating black box.

  Four. Thousand. Five. Hundred.

  I had just made a bit under three thousand clearing this entire godforsaken dungeon. The work of the last hour, the rage, the blood... it wasn't enough to cover it. I was in the hole.

  The sarcophagus was silent.

  I could feel the girls' eyes on me. I could feel their hope, their fear, their desperate, pathetic faith in the magical talking box.

  I let out a long, slow breath.

  Shall I prepare the extraction protocol, Master? the sarcophagus inquired, its tone utterly, maddeningly calm. Or will you be leaving your... guest... to thaw? I assure you, the resulting particulate cleanup would be most distressing for your companions.

  "Shut up," I snarled, kicking a loose piece of concrete. "Just... get him in there."

  The sarcophagus's inner light glowed brighter. A shimmering, green field of energy enveloped the purple block of crystal containing Julian. The stasis field shattered, and the ice vanished, dissolving into a fine, shimmering mist.

  Julian's limp body floated gently toward the open sarcophagus, guided by unseen hands.

  "Wait!" Maya shrieked, her hands flying to her mouth.

  She watched, her heart in her throat, as her dear friend was lowered into the ancient, terrifying box.

  The lid began to close, the silver iris sealing him inside with a final, soft click.

  The sarcophagus went dark, silent, and inert. Just a box again.

  Payment has been rendered, the voice of Majalis echoed one last time in my mind. The process has begun. Prognosis is... guarded, but hopeful. This shall be quick.

  Silence.

  The sarcophagus went inert, just a floating box of dark wood and silver in the gloom of the railyard. The oppressive weight of Majalis's presence receded, leaving behind only the quiet evening, the chirping of distant crickets, and the sound of Maya’s ragged breathing.

  We all stood there, staring at the box. At the tomb holding her best friend.

  My stomach churned with a sour, acidic mix of fury and exhaustion. I was in debt to my own damn gear. And for what? To save some civilian idiot who couldn't take a hint.

  I kicked at a loose rock on the ground, sending it skittering into the darkness with a clatter. It was a petty, childish gesture, but it was all I had.

  "So... is that it?" Star Topaz whispered, finally breaking the trance. "Is he... going to be okay?"

  "The box said he'd be," Star Ruby answered, her usual cocky bravado completely gone.

  I scowled, turning to Maya. "Why do all of you insist on lugging around useless civilians? This is what happens. He put us all in danger. Plus, put me in the red here on points."

  Star Morganite didn't look at me.

  She just stared at the sarcophagus, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her pigtails were drooping, her ribbons were crooked. Her dress was sputtering, the pink light fading until it finally vanished in a soft poof of glitter.

  She was just Maya again. A teenage girl, her face streaked with tears and dirt.

  She was small. And she was shaking.

  "You're a real piece of work, you know that?" she said, her voice a raw, hoarse whisper.

  She finally turned to look at me, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with a fury so hot and pure it was almost beautiful.

  "He followed me because he was worried about me. Because he thought I was in trouble. He didn't have a magic wand or a talking box. He had a baseball bat. A freaking baseball bat! And he still came for me. And all you can do is complain about the cost?!"

  I didn't answer.

  'I'm not the luggage, I'm the rescue party!'

  The words echoed in the silence of the railyard, a ghost of his stupid, wheezing voice.

  My fists clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms.

  The anger was a cold, a shard of ice in my gut. It wasn't the hot, explosive rage I'd felt in the dungeon.

  This was different. This was colder. More personal.

  'He's my best friend,' Maya had sobbed, her face a mess of tears and snot. 'He... he gave me half of his sandwich on the first day of kindergarten because I forgot mine!'

  A sandwich. How touching. How utterly, vomit-inducingly quaint.

  He didn't save her.

  I did.

  He just got in the way. He dove into a place he had no business being, armed with a child's toy, driven by a cocktail of adrenaline and arrogance.

  He thought he was the hero. The one who gets the girl at the end with a witty one-liner and a smug grin.

  A brat like that wasn't a hero. He was a liability.

  A walking, talking, breathing liability who had the gall to charge into a hell beyond his comprehension and play knight-in-shining-armor.

  The image of a tall, athletic boy flashed behind my eyes, sheathing a sword with a silver rose emblem on the hilt as a pigtailed girl with vibrant pink hair tackled him laughing. The pink highlights in the girl's hair were shimmering just like the sparkles of Maya's transformation, and her smile was just as stupid and bright.

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  Kaito was different.

  He'd always been a thorn in my side.

  I'd have the girls dead to rights, and then somehow, he'd always know they were in trouble.

  He'd find them. He was the best of them. A real hero. He was a problem I had to solve and never could until I didn't want to.

  Compared to him - this kid, this Julian?

  He wasn't a problem. He was an annoyance. A bug to squash.

  He was cheap. He was easy. Dead weight.

  And yet...

  I looked at Maya.

  She was staring at the sarcophagus, her whole body trembling, as if she could bring him back to life with just stubborn force of will.

  I crossed my arms.

  "Tch. Pathetic," I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "All this drama over a boy who got in over his head. You're all a bunch of emotional babies."

  Maya's head snapped up.

  Her eyes, still red and puffy from crying, narrowed to dangerous slits. The trembling stopped. The despair was gone, consumed by a fire that burned hotter than any I'd seen in this world so far.

  "What did you just say?" she asked, her voice dangerously quiet.

  Sapphire and Topaz both took a step back, their eyes wide. Even Ruby looked a little nervous.

  "I said," I said, my voice dropping to a low, contemptuous growl, "that you're pathetic. Weeping and wailing over a boy who was too stupid to stay out of the fire. A boy who, I might add, I am now out of pocket for because of your little melodrama."

  I took a step forward, my boots crunching on the gravel.

  "This is the real world, Maya Hoshino," I snarled, my face inches from hers. "People die. They get erased. They get turned into a smear on the wall. And sometimes, there's no magical reset button. Sometimes, all you're left with is the bill. So yeah. I'm complaining about the cost. Because it's the only real thing in this whole mess."

  Maya didn't flinch. She didn't back down.

  She just stared at me, her eyes burning with a cold, hard light that I hadn't seen before.

  And then, she punched me.

  It wasn't a very good punch. Her form was terrible. She put her whole body into it, but it was all arm and barely any hip. A telegraphed, desperate swing that I saw coming from a mile away.

  A normal person would have staggered back. A normal person would have a bruised jaw.

  I didn't even move.

  The impact was a dull thud. A hard, fleshy smack against my cheek.

  For me, It was like being hit with a wet towel.

  I looked at her.

  She was shaking, her knuckles white, her face a mask of pain and fury. The impact had clearly hurt her more than it had hurt me.

  "Feel better?" I asked, my voice dripping with condescension.

  Maya just glared at me, cradling her hand to her chest, her jaw tight.

  I sighed, a long, weary exhalation that fogged in the cool evening air.

  "Look at you," I said, my voice softening to a mocking murmur. "You're a mess. You're a child playing dress-up in a warzone. You think this is a story?"

  I gestured to the floating sarcophagus.

  "Him. He was the first. Who's next? Her? Her?" I pointed a finger at Star Topaz, and each of them in turn before landing on Maya again. "Or maybe it'll be you. Maybe you'll be the one to take a hit you can't handle. Maybe you'll be the one to get erased. And you know what? It won't be a noble sacrifice. It won't be a tragic, beautiful death. It'll just be a mess. A stupid, pointless mess."

  "I'm... not... a child," she stammered, her voice cracking.

  "Aren't you?" I asked, leaning in closer. "You cry when your friend gets hurt. You punch when you get angry. You cling to the naive, childish belief that everything will be okay if you just believe in yourself hard enough. That's not strength. That's weakness. That's a death wish."

  I took a step back, my lip curling in disgust.

  I had believed in the power of teamwork and friendship and happy endings once.

  And I'd crushed that hope with my own stupid and selfish actions.

  And for a moment, I let myself understand I felt something other than anger. A flicker of something I hadn't felt in a long, long time.

  Something I had no right to feel. It'd been bothering me the entire time and I'd finally put my finger on it.

  Envy.

  I envied her.

  I envied her stupidity. Her hope.

  Her unwavering, idiotic belief in a world that had already proven, a thousand times over, that it didn't deserve it.

  I envied that she still had it.

  I wanted to crush it. To break her.

  To make her see the world for what it really was. A dark, cold, unforgiving place where the only thing you could count on was your own strength. And your own fists.

  But as I looked at her, at the fire in her eyes, I knew it wouldn't work.

  She was... too strong.

  She was stronger than me.

  She was stronger than I had ever been.

  Because she could still hope.

  And I... I couldn't.

  "Hey. What's the hold up, Majalis?" I snapped, my patience worn thinner than a rusted tin roof. I kicked the side of the sarcophagus, a dull, unsatisfying thud echoing in the gloom. "You said this would be quick. I've got things to do. These girls probably have a... Curfew."

  The sarcophagus remained inert for a long, theatrical moment. The silver inlay along its edges seemed to shimmer with a faint, condescending light.

  My humblest apologies, Master Reimi, the baritone voice purred in my mind, the tone one of deeply feigned respect. One must allow a moment for the... marination. The soul is a delicate tapestry. You cannot simply rip out a thread of entropy and expect the pattern not to fray. One must coax. One must gently persuade the cosmic loom to re-align its fibers. It is an art, you see. Not a... butchery. Besides, it is rare a being such as I finds such a treat.

  "Get on with it," I growled. "Or I'll find a hack saw."

  As you wish, Majalis replied, a theatrical sigh echoing in my head. Though I must protest, Master. Such brutish language. It offends the aesthetics of the craft.

  The silver eye-latch on the sarcophagus clicked. A soft, green light pulsed from within, casting long, dancing shadows across the dusty railyard.

  Maya gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

  He was inside.

  Julian was laid out on a bed of what looked like pulsating moss, floating serenely in the center of the box. He wasn't covered in frost anymore. But he wasn't... okay.

  The blue veins were gone. The skin was back to its normal, light yellow hue. But he was still. Too still.

  His eyes were open.

  They weren't rolling back in his head. They were wide, staring blankly at the lid of the sarcophagus, his pupils blown wide.

  The subject is stable, Majalis announced, its tone as placid as a butler announcing afternoon tea. The immediate cellular degradation has been arrested. I have... pruned the most aggressive fraying of his soul-thread. However, a... snag has presented itself.

  "A snag?" I barked, my patience completely gone. "I just spent every damned point I earned and then some on this 'snag'. What kind of snag?"

  It appears, Majalis said, a hint of what could only be described as dramatic flair in its voice, well, he will likely be okay, but...

  Before I could protest, the green light in the sarcophagus intensified.

  You see, the Miasma attempted to erase him. To unmake him. But it seems young Master Julian's... ahem, narrative imperative, was simply too strong.

  "What the hell does that mean?" I snarled, my patience worn completely thin. "Is he going to be okay or not? I'm down 4,500 Credits. I want a refund if he's just going to be a brick."

  Refund? Oh, my dear Master Reimi, you wound me! Majalis exclaimed, its voice full of mock horror. The service has been rendered. The subject is... alive. Mostly.

  The green light in the sarcophagus intensified, and a holographic display flickered into existence above the open box.

  Let me illuminate the situation for the uninitiated.

  The display showed a complex, three-dimensional diagram of a human body, glowing with a soft, white light.

  "This is what we consider a normal soul," Majalis's voice suddenly droned from the box itself. "A standard-issue, run-of-the-mill anchor to a given reality. Mundane. Serviceable. A little... beige.

  The hologram shimmered, and the white light was suddenly infiltrated by writhing, lightning-blue tendrils. They snaked through the diagram, corrupting the light, turning it a sickly, bruised color.

  "And this," the box continued, "is what the Miasma does. It's a metaphysical solvent. It unravels the threads. A rather messy process. I've seen it turn clusters of galaxies into... well, let's just say it's not a pretty sight. A cosmic spill, if you will. Ordinarily, a single human soul would have little chance."

  The display shimmered again. The purple tendrils were gone, but the white light was... different. It was still there, but it was now threaded with thin, pulsing lines of a vibrant, glittering silver

  "The problem, you see," Majalis said, a note of what could only be described as academic glee in its tone, "is that while I was... reviewing the corruption, he was for all intents and purposes already beyond the threshold. The erasure process was already underway. But then, something happened."

  Majalis projected a bright silver glow over blue threads in the hologram. "Something managed to anchor him to this reality. An anomaly. A foreign body but not quite foreign, if you will. A parasitic infestation of... well, for lack of a better term, constancy."

  Maya, who had been staring, transfixed, at the hologram, tilted her head.

  "Constancy?" she asked, her voice a small, confused whisper.

  "Indeed," Majalis confirmed. "A most peculiar strain. One that was derailed by a certain presence here. It seems that young Master Julian's... ahem, 'story,' was too strong to be completely erased. The Miasma couldn't simply unmake him. Even with Master Reimi's derailment. So it did the next best thing. It tried to... overwrite him."

  The hologram zoomed in on a single, glowing pink thread surrounded by silver in the center of the diagram. It was brighter than all the others, pulsing with a steady, determined rhythm.

  "This particular thread is... remarkably resilient," Majalis noted. "It's been... woven into the very fabric of the world. I've managed to isolate it, to contain the damage. But it's... changed him.*

  The box paused, letting the weight of its words sink in.

  "He is, for all intents and purposes, a new man. Or rather, the same man, but with a... a footnote. A very, very persistent footnote."

  "What does that mean?" Star Sapphire asked, her Sapphire Lens flaring as she tried to scan the display. "Is he going to be okay?"

  "He will live," Majalis said flatly. "He will still be a regular human. He will walk, and talk, and breathe. But he will be... different. He will see things. He will know things. He will be... a conduit. A living, breathing receptacle for divine comedy."

  The hologram faded. The green light in the sarcophagus softened, and the lid began to close.

  "He will carry a piece of a world with him. A piece of its story..." the box said, its voice a final, dramatic whisper. "He will not be the boy who gave away half of his sandwich. Rather, he will be the boy who remembered giving away half of his sandwich. And that, my dear Master Reimi, is a much heavier burden."

  "Hey, what the hell does that mean you cryptic asshole?!" I snarled.

  Majalis cackled, and suddenly, an invisible force tossed Julian out in front of the box. Star Ruby quickly scrambled forward, catching him in her arms.

  I look forward to our next transaction. Do try and earn some more points, Master Reimi. I get so, so dreadfully bored when you're broke.

  With a final, dismissive hum, the sarcophagus's lid slammed shut with a deafening CRACK.