I heard my own voice. It was calm, even though we stood among ruins at the top of a mountain. While waiting for the others, I'd been thinking about this vessel. I couldn't even remember what kind of person it had been. And yet, it had sacrificed itself for a worthy cause.

  "Twenty years. And you're still having doubts?"

  The Third Heart was picking through the rubble of a column. Fingers sorting through stones, methodical, over and over. At times I thought it must have claimed its body from a vulture.

  "No doubts."

  Its voice was measured, every word weighed before spoken.

  "Just counting losses. Force of habit."

  "Count the losses from doing nothing."

  I stepped closer, my footsteps soft, nearly silent. This body moved like a predator. Snow crunched on the stones underfoot. This place was once a temple to false gods.

  "We waited twenty years for them to come to their senses. The result is right in front of us."

  I pointed at the portal in the center. Dead. Cold.

  "They even cut contact with us. As if we no longer exist to them."

  A melodic voice came from behind. Light, almost playful.

  "Oh, are the boys grumbling like grandpas again? Well, I suppose you are, tee-hee!"

  The Second Heart was climbing the steps. Confident strides, despite the white blindfold over its eyes. It carried a basket of berries in its hands. Always found a way to look innocent.

  "Where did you pick those?"

  "They were growing in the valley. So sweet. Couldn't resist."

  She sat on a stone and began eating. Her fingers snatched at everything in reach, showy and deliberate. Disgusting.

  "Were you talking about something interesting?"

  I watched her. She still hadn't told us how she'd made that body agree to become a vessel. And she was the one who'd blinded the girl.

  The Third stopped picking at stones.

  "The Mimic broke the agreement. A year ago, it promised not to interfere while we prepared."

  "Agreements with demons," the Second scoffed. "You were always naive."

  "I was practical. It was supposed to lead us to the key."

  "And now it's scheming behind our backs, thinking we don't notice."

  The Third's voice hardened.

  "Does it think we'll let it in like a wolf into a sheep pen?"

  The Second wiped its hands on the fabric of its skirt.

  "Funny. We're using it just the same, aren't we?"

  The tension in the air thickened.

  "That's necessity. We are order."

  I sat down across from the Second.

  "The Mimic needs the key to the Overmind. So do we. We knew it would find someone."

  "We just didn't think it would be this fast."

  The Third tossed a stone aside.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  "And we didn't think it would be..."

  At that moment, something changed. A thin vibration ran through my body, as if someone had tugged an invisible thread tied to my heart.

  All three of us froze.

  "Do you feel that?"

  The Third stood abruptly, dropping stones.

  "The north. An old place of power."

  I closed my eyes and focused. The sensation was sharp, as though something ancient had woken from a long sleep.

  "A sarcophagus. Someone opened one of the sarcophagi."

  The Second stopped chewing.

  "Which one?"

  "Northern Ridge."

  I opened my eyes.

  "That's where the Mimic's complex is. Its worm took root well: found an old burial site."

  Silence hung between us. Wind whistled through the ruins, scattering dust of ages.

  "What was in there?"

  I searched my memory. A thousand years ago, when we had first claimed the figurines and the bodies that belonged to them. When the false gods still trusted us.

  "The Hermit. The one who refused to unite with the others."

  "The Mimic didn't consume it directly, did it? It found a suitable vessel. But who?"

  The Second stood. The basket fell, berries scattering across the stones.

  "It's gone mad."

  "Or it's become more dangerous than we thought."

  The Third clenched its fists.

  "We needed someone to open the gates. Now the Mimic has its own key."

  "Which is why we need to act."

  I walked to the edge of the cliff.

  "In one month, we shut down the Hearts. People lose their magic. The false gods lose control over us. The system they built collapses. We become free."

  "Free to take their place."

  The Second's voice was quiet.

  "Exactly. But only if we reach the Overmind before they realize what's happened. We need the key."

  I turned to the Third.

  "Are your agents ready?"

  The Third pulled two figurines from its pocket. One resembled a lizard with a twisted tail, the other a bird without eyes.

  "The Chronophage and the Mnemoclast. Bodies are two levels down."

  "Send them."

  The Third walked to the cliff's edge and opened its fingers. The figurines tumbled into the air, glinting in the moonlight. On a rocky ledge below lay two bodies in dark clothing. The figurines landed squarely on each one's chest.

  A flash. The first body jerked. A large man, nearly two meters tall. Dressed in an old-fashioned aristocratic cone-shaped hat and suit. Behind him, a first ring slowly materialized, then a second.

  The second body rose after. A woman who looked young. Silver hair gathered neatly, adorned with a white bow that contrasted with her dark attire. A strict outfit: black fabric with white accents, high collar. A perfect match for her partner. Light eyes, perhaps blue or gray, staring straight ahead with a faint detachment. Slightly smaller in stature, a pair of rings also appearing behind her.

  "Executioner. Handler."

  The Third spoke clearly, each word like the fall of a hammer.

  "Northern Ridge. Complex seventeen. Find whoever opened the sarcophagus. Learn everything. Alive, if possible. Do not engage the Mimic. It's too powerful for you. Move."

  The figures below nodded in unison and dissolved into the night.

  "Artificial souls in dead bodies."

  The Second Heart froze with a berry between its fingers, as if its own words had stirred something painful.

  "She used to love strawberries."

  The voice was quiet. Not playful, like usual.

  "Who?"

  I stepped closer.

  "The girl. The one who wore this body before me."

  The Second wiped its hand on its dress. Slowly.

  "She was ten when the false gods chose her. A talent for magic, a pure soul. The perfect vessel."

  A pause.

  "They placed the figurine in her chest. Her soul resisted for three days. Screaming inside while I took her place. Then she went quiet. Erased."

  The Second raised the berry to its lips. Bit into it.

  "The last thing she thought was: 'Mommy will bring strawberries.'"

  Silence.

  "But there was no mommy. Just us. And now I eat the strawberries she loved, sitting in a body I stole from a child."

  The Third turned away.

  "Don't start. We all stole bodies. The end justifies."

  "Justifies."

  The Second nodded.

  "But I still remember the taste of strawberries. And her last thought."

  A heavy silence settled.

  "One more season, and it's over."

  I stepped back from the cliff.

  "The false gods will pay for using us for a thousand years. We'll take their place. Fix their mistakes."

  "Or create new ones," the Third said with a smirk. "Only this time, we'll be the gods. And someone else will serve us."

  The Second stood, holding the basket.

  "The cycle doesn't end. Just the players change."

  Wind scattered ash across the ruins. Somewhere far to the north, someone was gaining the power of a dead god. Someone was becoming the key to the Overmind.

  The Mimic thought it was using that person for its own ends. But we knew the truth: in the end, all keys belong to those who know which doors to open.

  We knew every door in this world. Now we just needed the key.