Branton is taken away from Auroris and finds himself back on the Isle of Inphernos.

He knows this is a dream. It’s always the same place with the same problem. He knows exactly how everything will happen until the end. The dreams have been occurring ever since the Trybal War ended.

The sky clears up as the sun peeks through the gray wisps of clouds. All the neytives go on with their activities, minding their own existence and not giving death glares or promised threats.

Branton spots his home over the valley. It’s far away from the neytives and looks like it was recently made. The mounds of dirt, clay and igneous rocks are stacked over each other. Sunlight reflects off the rocks, prompting Branton to shield his eyes.

He takes his time walking to the door, mentally preparing himself for the dream to manifest into a nightmare.

There’s clean furniture made purely from a nearby field, fresh food brought from the market near the docks, and a small fire in the center of the room. Flint uses his trigger to stoke the flames. A subtle smirk spreads across his face. Branton knew what he was smirking about, but this dream wasn’t about him.

He catches movement in the next room and keeps walking with rising fatigue.

His younger brother sits on his bed and plays with his collection of rocks. Branton remembers when he ventured into the volcanic tubes long ago. He ended up getting stuck down there for three dials due to a collapsing tunnel. He brought back many minerals, stones and gems they would use for tools and ingredients. It was the perfect gift for his youngest sibling.

Heath holds up a crystal to the sunlight. It flashes a cascade of colorful lights throughout the room. Branton remembers giving that crystal to Heath. It’s a black diamond with a perfect star cut and polished facets. It’s considered rare to find a diamond of that color on Myalón.

“Heath,” Branton knows he’s speaking, but it’s inaudible. “We need to talk.”

His brother looks at him and moves his mouth; but like Branton, Heath’s voice is warped. He remembers what they both say. “What is wrong?”

“It is... umm... it... is about... mother and father.”

The room fills with white noise and the expression on Heath’s face changes instantly. Branton has to suffer through this nightmare and it takes a toll on his heart.

Outside the window, the beautiful clear blue sky turns red. The temperature gets hotter as it pierces through the walls. Fire bursts through Heath’s window and burns everything it touches.

Heath doesn’t move. He sits on his bed, ignoring the out of control fire and pulls his legs into his body, crying into his knees. Branton can’t do anything since it’s just a dream. The real Heath is back on Myalón, going through his life without one of his brothers. He lets everything play out and hopes he can wake up soon.

He turns and exits Heath’s room. The flames continue to spread, consuming their possessions and leaving behind a trail of ash. Flint isn’t even fazed by the destruction. He continues to stoke the fire while chewing on a piece of coal.

Behind Branton is his room that catches fire as well, but something else draws his attention.

A bright white light shines throughout his room. It flickers non-stop, overlapping the fire around it. Branton hasn’t seen that sort of light in his dreams before.

This is something new.

He can’t help but be drawn by the light. It’s purposely luring him closer. It’s mesmerizing. It’s frightening.

As he gets closer to the white glow, there is an audible sound behind it. It sounds like whispering, but Branton can’t make out what it’s saying.

The flashing light floods the entire home.

Branton gasps for air and jumps straight out of bed. He looks down at his sheets and realizes he activated his trigger again. His bed is torn to shreds from his spikes extruding on impulse. The sheets are also soaked with sweat and smudged with scorch marks. Small spots of fire stick to the sheets and pillows, spreading smoke everywhere.

Once he can breathe again, Branton gets up and opens his chest. There’s a spare set of clothes hiding underneath his new suit. He pulls his ruined shirt off before hearing frantic taps at the door.

He doesn’t show any surprise at seeing Trevet behind the door with a worried look.

“Hey, umm…” Trevet looks past Branton at his bed that blew up in smoke. “I am in the room next to you and I heard everything. The screaming.”

“It was just a nightmare.”

“And you woke up in flames?”

“It happens often. I am going to ask them for a new bed.”

Trevet doesn’t press further with more questions and almost says goodbye, until Branton reaches for a wandering thought. “Do you mind if we talk?”

Trevet is shocked but answers. “Yes. Yeah, sure.”

Branton allows Trevet inside and goes back to finding a shirt. His spikes are still protruding out of his spine and they poke through the holes in the fabric. Trevet takes a seat near the window, resting his four elbows on the edge. Branton still doesn’t know how to make conversation with the Sub Terric, or any neytive for that matter. He doesn’t know what to feel around Trevet. The Sub Terric came off as optimistic and weird when they first met. He’s almost glad that he can’t show any emotions now.

“I wanted to say this earlier to you,“ Branton sits at the end of his charred bed. “You are really excited to be here, probably the only neytive, to be a part of the Knyghts Voyage.”

“Of course I am. Sure I get excited about a lot of things, but this is beyond my expectations.”

“And do you really think it will be worth it?” Branton says.

Trevet turns around and holds onto his bright smile. “Yeah. I believe in what Chancellor Prime is trying to do for Myalón. I know none of us have a good reason to be given this chance, but I think we are finally warming up to each other.”

“There have been eight fights in the past four dials. You were almost in one.”

“Oh, yeah. That Soline neytive has some serious anger issues,” Trevet chuckles at that memory.

No matter what, Branton might not get used to Trevet’s optimism. It almost reminds him of how Heath was before everything happened.

“I want to believe her too... and in this,” Branton gets up and leans over the sink to get rid of the soot on his forearms. “But not many neytives on Myalón deserve it.”

A moment of silence fills the room until Trevet finds what to say. “Why do you think that?”

When he’s done cleaning up, Branton looks at Trevet. This is the first time a neytive is committed to having a conversation with him, besides his brothers. Trevet is trying really hard to not make things sound bad.

“We should not be treated like this. The clothes, the rooms, the food, the very fact that one neytive from each trybe was chosen for planetary exploration. They are acting like our crimes were erased and everything has started over. Not all the neytives are innocent. They should not be forgiven,” Branton sees Trevet absorb every word he’s saying out loud. It feels good to speak what has been on his mind. “That is what I feel about the Knyghts Voyage.”

“My crime was my hunger,” Trevet shouts out. “I found a ration of food for myself to enjoy, but I got caught and dealt with the consequences. It was something that was ridiculous that turned me into a criminal.”

Branton is taken aback at what Trevet said. Every trybe has certain rules that need to be followed. Some crimes are terrifying to even say, but Trevet’s crime is plain ridiculous.

“I know you might hate to hear this, but are you under the null effect?”

Branton hasn’t heard those words for so long. The null effect was never a positive characteristic for neytives, and he has it. It’s what gives him no emotions or expressions. No sadness, compassion, anger, embarrassment or happiness.

“I am sorry. I noticed how you respond and act around others and I understand that it is difficult to…”

“It is fine,” Branton tells him with no sign of annoyance. “I am.”

Both are quiet again when they both realize it’s still phase.

Trevet stretches his limbs while walking to the door. “Well, I am going back to bed. I did not plan to wake up in the middle of the phase, but I enjoyed our talk. We can talk more later in the Dining Pavilion, if you want?”

Branton nods in agreement and stumbles back into bed, moving some of the burned fabric underneath him. The feel and smell don’t bother him that much, but he liked how the sheets were before he lit them up.

He starts drifting back to sleep, but there are too many things to think about before he wakes up again. The first thing he needs to figure out is the light in his dream.