Nothing happened. No flash of light. No Reaper swooping in. No dead Demon Prince. Tyler shuffled backwards on the edge of the precipice, a few stray rocks scattering down the side of the ravine. Their rhythmic clattering against the rockface echoed in the silence, as if to make it known just how alone he was. The Demon Prince tilted his head at him curiously, red eyes narrowed, a smirk appearing across his wolf’s snout.

  “I was beginning to believe you were stalling me for some reason,” the Prince said. “But I thought that was a ridiculous notion.”

  “Reaper?” Tyler spoke in his mind.

  “Whatever would you gain,” the Prince continued, “from stalling me.” The Prince raised his arm, ready to strike. “I give you a final chance. Make your decision now. Or die.”

  “Reaper?” Tyler thought again. He shuffled back a tad more. An inch or so further and he would fall to the stream several hundred feet below. The Prince drew his face closer, his grey beard trailing a stream through the pool of blood, mere metres away from where Tyler stood. What blood remained of Alina had begun to seep into the ground beneath the rocks, leaving behind dried crusts of flesh and shards of splintered bone. That one solitary eye no longer looked at him, disturbed in its place of rest by the Prince’s beard.

  “Well, you see, Mr Prince, sir,” Tyler wasn’t sure how effective his bullshitting was. Whether he was good at stalling or not. “…This is a monumental decision…” But he didn’t think Reaper would let him down. “…not one that I could take without some time to think…” Not after getting The Nexus Prime to agree to what he wanted. After all that, why would he let Tyler die? “…and I needed to think about the best way to tell you this…” Yet, Tyler couldn’t see any way out of this. “…Princess Alina, Imanie, Emelyn died to save me…” Just like the Prince had appeared out of nowhere, hand on Alina’s head, he could easily wipe Tyler out of existence. How far could he push it, really? “…and I think they would be disappointed, if I didn’t consider your proposal carefully…” He didn’t think he could push any further, so he could only do the one thing the Prince wouldn’t expect, and hope that Reaper came through. “…and after doing so, I think they’d want me to tell you this.

  “Fuck you.” He held his middle finger up, and let himself fall backwards off the edge. He spoke into his mind, “Reaper, it’s on you. Either no-one dies. Or we all do.”

  He closed his eyes, spread his arms outwards, like a diver on the edge of a boat, diving into the waters behind him. Except there was no water behind him yet. Just a fall, mere seconds to the stream below. Time seemed to slow. Air whispered past his ears, gently caressing them until it became louder, more violent, rushing past him as if it had somewhere to be and he was in the way. He could feel his heartbeat, the rhythmic, calm thump intensifying, but not from fear. It hastened from the adrenaline of falling, as his stomach floated upwards. As the seconds stretched, the inevitable impact brought a calm to him. It would all be over soon.

  +2[CNV]

  Pain erupted throughout his body with a force that exploded through every bone, every muscle, every strand of sinew holding him together. His skin burned like he had been dipped into a vat of liquid fire. White spots burst across his vision, even as tears of anguish spread down his cheeks. His flesh ripped itself from his body. Every nerve from his head to his toes, screamed in agony. His brain felt like it was in a blender, struggling to make sense of all the signals it was receiving.

  Then, as suddenly as the pain had come, it began to recede. He lay there for a moment, feeling the aftermath; a slow cooling down of his skin, his flesh, his nerves, as if he lay atop ice as it worked its magic across his body. He felt an energy within himself, like a stream of millions of tiny masses bundled together, jostling inside of him, empty and weightless. An unseen energy force, like the illusion of a dream, teetering on the edge of his perception.

  He felt it move throughout his body with the delicate, sensual touch of a lover. It stroked his arms, his back, embraced his torso, nestled between his lungs, his abdomen and traced a path into his legs. Wherever it moved, tiny strands of skin and flesh, muscle and tendon, reached across the chasm of bone beneath, swam through the spilling pools of blood, and pulled themselves towards each other. Several strands became tens; hundreds; thousands; millions and wounds began to disappear, muscles began to regenerate, neither leaving even the trace of a scar behind, or the hint of weakened mobility.

  Bruises across his skin cycled through the full array of colours they were capable of. Crimson red turned to indigo purple, which in turn became inky blue. All the while, the flesh softened and reduced in size. He winced as he felt crushed pieces of fractured bone in his back and legs seek each other beneath his restoring muscle – then fuse together like compressed steel being forged and melded. All the while, the bruises continued to cycle down, becoming light shades of yellow with small shadows of grassy green.

  He didn’t know how long it took, nor how often he had flinched and squirmed and winced, but after, the evidence of any bruising on his skin, or damage to his bones, or cuts to his flesh was erased. Not an inch of him was anything but what it had been. No. It felt more. Stronger. Faster. Small sparks discharged across his body, as his nerves came back to life and the reawakened tissue and muscle writhed with newfound purpose, his muddled brain beginning to make sense of it all.

  He fluttered his eyes open, blinked the tears away. He could feel hard stone jut into his back and shoulders. He was shrouded in darkness except for a tiny jot of blue light at the end of the tunnel.

  Was he dead? Is that what had happened? He died from hitting the ground, and he had now been put back together. Was this the tunnel to the afterlife? Was this the end of this terrible day? He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

  No, a voice echoed in his mind. Reaper’s voice. You’re not dead. You’re an idiot is what you are.

  Reaper. Why are you in my head? Didn’t you kill Zellaran?

  Yes, I did. And then my essence rushed to you just in time for you to almost kill us both anyway.

  What do you mean?

  You decided to jump. Why would you jump?

  What was I supposed to do? Zellaran was going to kill me anyway. I put my faith in you.

  And I put my faith in an idiot, Reaper’s tone was particularly sardonic. The number one rule in this world is that you never fall.

  Why is that the number one rule?

  Because fall damage bypasses any damage reduction you have. Your armour is useless, and you don’t have that anyway. And any points you have in durability are useless. It’s just straight damage to your person. The only reason you’re not dead right now, is because Revenant managed to slow your fall at the point of impact, and because this soil is full of water. And because we managed to merge before the impact.

  But what about Wraith earlier? He dropped from a height much higher than this.

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  His was a controlled descent. He knew what he was doing. He didn’t fall.

  So a fall would kill you?

  If it’s high enough, yes.

  Revenant couldn’t save you?

  She has her limits. If we fall together, she would be crushed just as much as me.

  So, try not to fall again?

  After you return my essence, you can fall all you want. There was an outworlder that I trained who struggled with balance, and would fall often. One day, he fell too far.

  What happened to him? He died?

  No. Riftborn cannot die as long as our essences are returned to the Citadel within a given time. The Nexus Prime rebirthed him into a body that helped him better manage his suicidal falling tendencies.

  So even if I die, your essence would survive?

  For a while. But I would be tethered to your body and I would eventually wither away unless someone else came along. So, please, try not to fall again. Try not to kill me while we’re together. And your companions for that matter. Don’t forget the terms of our contract.

  I’ll bear that in mind. So what was that crushing pain I felt earlier? Your essence?

  No. That was the fall.

  From hitting the ground?

  Yes. Most of it.

  What do you mean, most of it?

  The skin burning might have been me.

  On purpose?

  There was silence, but Tyler could almost hear the hushed giggle.

  Reaper?

  We’ve spent too much time down here. We need to find a way out. Zellaran is also capable of living for a while, even though his body is dead. We need to destroy his essence.

  The change of subject wasn’t lost on Tyler. Maybe the skin burning was Reaper’s way of causing Tyler some discomfort for the deal he had extracted. Tyler smiled to himself.

  Where is here anyway?

  The man-sized crater you created in the riverbank.

  How do we get out?

  That depends on you.

  What do you mean it depends on me?

  My essence is contained within you. You have my power, my abilities and my guidance. But I have no control here. It’s all on you.

  “Stats,” Tyler said aloud.

  [Stats Unavailable.]

  “Status.”

  [Status Unavailable.]

  “Skills.”

  [Skills Unavailable.]

  You cannot access my information.

  Well, how am I supposed to know what I’m capable of?

  By doing.

  And what does that mean?

  Don’t think. Just do.

  You know what I’m thinking right now? I’m thinking that outworlder fell to get away from your training.

  Reaper chuckled softly.

  That seemed to be all that Tyler would be getting out of him for now. He needed to think this one through a little as he blinked at that hole in the distance. With an effort, he stood up, bones creaking, muscles groaning, flesh still stinging. His back felt a bit sticky, no doubt blood from where his skin had split on the fall.

  He tilted his head upwards. The walls around him seemed smooth and muddy. He could climb out with some luck. Then he recalled the fight between Reaper and the Demon Knight. Reaper’s mobility. Revenant’s hooks.

  Question. Where is Revenant?

  Call to her.

  How?

  Don’t think. Just do.

  Tyler sighed. Don’t think. Just do. He blinked several times at that opening above.

  “Revenant?” he called out softly. No answer.

  “Revenant,” he said it more firmly this time. More like a command. Nothing.

  “REVENANT,” he shouted commandingly. She didn’t respond.

  “REVENANT?” he pleaded. The only response he got was the echo of his voice returning embarrassed.

  Maybe he needed to call to her like he was talking to Reaper. A mental communication. Revenant, he called into the void of his mind. Nothing. He tried again. Still nothing. But Reaper had said call to her. She must be nearby. She must be able to hear him. He just had to call to her.

  Call to her.

  Call to her.

  He concentrated on that opening. Imagined she was listening for him. Imagined she would be able to hear him if he just concentrated enough. Revenant. Nothing happened. He concentrated again; tried to imagine every fibre of his being wanting Revenant to hear him. To respond to him.

  Revenant. Again, noth– Wait, something had happened. He could see it in his mind. A small, slender thread. Like a piece of golden string, thinner than a strand of hair. He concentrated his thoughts into that thin strand.

  Revenant. The strand widened.

  Revenant. It widened again.

  Revenant. It widened to as thick as the width of a pen, and this time he felt something travel back to him. A soft wail, like the ghostly whisperings of wind on a cold, winter’s night.

  Well done, Reaper congratulated him. That is your connection to Revenant. Do exactly as you did. Feel her. Want her to respond to you. The more you strengthen that connection, the more responsive she’ll be to your thoughts.

  Revenant, he thought into that golden connection in his mind. I need you.

  A soft wail answered. Tyler stared at the jot of blue light at the top of the man-sized hole he had carved into the riverbank. A moment later, a shadow passed over the opening and plunged rapidly down the hole, bouncing between the walls. As it moved, it covered and uncovered the opening, creating twinkling pinpricks of light chasing its descent.

  He watched as Revenant came closer, a smile on his face that she had listened, her lithe liquid metal form leaping across the walls with the fluid grace of water, until she hit the floor in front of him. The black metal stood as tall as Reaper had – nine feet or more – but had taken on a female form, the curves of her body shimmering when it caught what little light there was, though the head had no features. He sensed a melancholy within himself that wasn’t his own. A sense of lament and sorrow from Reaper.

  “Revenant,” he said aloud.

  You can talk to her like you can talk to me.

  I might go crazy if I keep talking in my mind, he responded back.

  “We need to get out of here,” Tyler said to the woman. “I know you want Reaper back, and I want to help both of you. But I need to help my friends too. Let’s work together, and get our own back on the ones who did this to us? What do you say?”

  Some of the metal on the featureless head drew back a little, and he could see the curves of what appeared to be a smile. Suddenly, she reached out and tore at him. No. At his clothes. With a single swipe, he stood there naked, looking at her. He heard a soft laugh from Reaper.

  Your clothes were stained with demon blood.

  The liquid metal woman pushed out two arms from her midriff, like she had earlier when she gave Reaper his swords, and offered Tyler a large bowl of water and what looked like a scrubber. He took the hint, washed himself down, scrubbed grime and blood from his body. He was grateful for it. The blood he washed away felt like he was cleaning himself of all that had occurred today. The bloodlust. The death. The trauma. The memory of Alina’s passing. That last one would haunt him even if he succeeded in bringing her back. Good, he thought to himself. It would always remind him of what he never wanted to happen again.

  Once he was done, Revenant absorbed the water and scrubber back into herself and then presented him with some musty black clothing. Part leather, part cloth, but with small hints of metal peeking out.

  These should fit you, Reaper said.

  Tyler took the clothes from her and took his time to put them on. First, the undergarments. Undergarments like nothing he had ever worn in the one day that he could remember. Silk. He could breathe down there in a way he didn’t think was possible. He doubted he’d ever be able to wear cotton boxers again.

  He pulled on figure-hugging leggings with padded knees. They weren’t so tight as to restrict his movement; in fact, they had just the right amount of give, as if designed to be comfortable to move in, but reducing the chance of making too much sound.

  He grabbed the tunic, tugged it over his head, slipped his arm through sleeves that hugged his biceps. The tunic fit close across the chest and stretched over his neck. It had secret pockets and hooks, and cleverly placed hidden plates to protect his sides and ribs. He grabbed the pair of matching forearm bracers and placed them over the forearms of his sleeves. He heard a satisfying click as they latched into place.

  Then there were some shoulder guards – matte black like everything else – and boots that fit as snugly as any slipper, light and supple. Finally, he put on the helm, a pliable headpiece with a detachable lower section that covered his mouth and nose, but allowed him to breathe. Once he had finished, only his eyes were visible.

  Revenant offered him a pair of daggers. They were like mini versions of Alina’s sword, about a foot and a half in length, including the hilts. The silver blades were engraved with black lettering, the hilts covered in black leather. He slotted them into hooks at his waist, though they were ornamental for now. He had no idea how to use the things.

  As soon as he was done, Revenant jumped on him, encasing him in that black liquid metal, moulding herself to his form. She glided across his body, a living shadow clinging to every contour of his body, gripping every curve of his muscles as if darkness itself was embracing him. With her hugging him as she was, he felt more power than he had ever known. Felt he could do more than he had ever done.

  He smiled.

  He looked up at the opening, and in his mind, he gave Revenant a single command.

  Let’s get out of here.

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