Pain throbbed relentlessly at the back of my head. When I finally opened my eyes, I expected rusty iron bars and the damp smell of a dark dungeon. But that wasn't what I found.

The warm light of a crackling hearth heated a spacious polished stone room. I lay in a comfortable bed, covered by thick, dark woolen blankets. The air smelled of pine and roasted meat. I sat up, ignoring the sharp stab in my skull.

My rustic village clothes were replaced by a simple red robe, devoid of patterns or symbols. My bare feet found a soft, plush rug, completely different from the ones at the inn. I looked around and saw no sign of hostility. Only... grandeur.

I walked over to the only door. It was tall and heavy, made of crimson wood with a metal latch that, surprisingly, was unlocked.

Opening the door, I found myself in a hallway full of people wearing the same black and crimson cloaks as the Tears of Hollows. They were massive, with rigid postures, but unhooded, as if they didn't fear me seeing their faces.

— Looks like you're awake, — one member said, approaching me.

I stepped back, facing a much taller man with an undeniably intimidating presence.

— Don't worry. Here, we are all family.

I stared into his eyes. They were empty, devoid of any spark. In contrast to his icy gaze, he had brown hair, a gentle voice, and a scar marking his left lip. So young to be in a place like this.

— Where... is my sister? — I asked, feeling slightly calmer.

It was strange. Something about his vaguely welcoming smile, or his essence, made me less insecure.

— She's waiting for you to meet with the director of the Tears of Hollows, — he explained, offering his hand.

I reached out, hesitant. Was he telling the truth? I needed to find out.

I let him take my hand. He guided me through the sanctuary's sprawling labyrinth filled with brotherhood members; some ran around like students, others tore parchment from a notice board. Further down, apprentices ingested strange substances, expelling thick, unpleasant smoke.

The boy walked beside me in complete silence, naturally calm. As we walked down hallways leading to various doors, something terrifying happened. The walls began to shift and stretch. The floor warped beneath my boots, and the windows melted like hot wax. My mind grew dizzy, and a phantom shiver ran down my spine. I blinked, and I was still in the same hallway... just in an entirely different location.

In front of me now stood a gigantic, closed iron door.

— Are you alright? — he asked, noticing my paleness.

— The hallway warped... — I said, disoriented, pressing a hand to my head.

— Strange... very few are sensitive enough to notice the spatio-temporal shift in this corridor, — he replied, his indifferent expression unchanged. — Your sister had the exact same reaction.

— Is she behind that door? — I asked, dreading the answer.

— Isn't that what you want? — His cold gaze matched his neutral expression.

I approached, making out ancient runes carved into the iron. Touching the door, I felt an incredibly powerful, ancestral energy pulsing within. Rapid, fragmented visions invaded my mind: twelve shadowy silhouettes gathered in darkness. I could only see their intensely glowing eyes. They were watching me. Yearning.

— Neiva! — a voice called out, ripping me from the trance.

As my vision recovered, I saw a pink-haired silhouette running toward me. I felt a soft touch, and immediately, a warm embrace. I knew that hug. It was Yae's.

— It's so good to see you safe! — she said, squeezing me so hard my bones cracked.

— Easy! I can't breathe, Yae! — I gasped, patting her back.

— Sorry, I got carried away.

I had never felt suffocated by her hugs in Hyperion. Was she stronger, or was Primitia's scarce Essence weakening my muscles?

As she pulled back, a figure emerged right behind her. He was tall, but very different from the leader who attacked the village. He had graying brown hair, and his eyes were completely blindfolded by smooth metal.

— You carry a different scent, just like your sister, — the mysterious man said, approaching with measured steps.

The vast chamber was filled with empty chairs, steeped in a grim, tactical atmosphere. I felt multiple invisible stares piercing our backs, even though I couldn't see anyone else inside besides us.

— You aren't from around here... are you? — the gray-haired man asked, taking a calculated step forward.

Yae and I immediately met each other's gaze. In a silent agreement, we decided to hide our divinity.

— You aren't from Ysmathal, — he stated, analyzing us with surgical precision.

Even blinded by the metal, he seemed to read us with ease. He exuded an undeniably imposing, deeply skeptical authority.

— We're from far away. From overseas, — Yae replied firmly.

— You must have made a long crossing, — he commented. — But that no longer matters. Now you are our prisoners, or if you prefer, our apprentices.

— Then why are we walking around freely? — Yae retorted.

— Because you are free to make your own choices. And free to bear their consequences, — he explained with icy calm. — You sold yourselves to save that insignificant village... and now you are here to fulfill the payment.

— What do you expect from us? — I asked, doubt making me clench my fists.

— What do you expect from here? — he threw back.

— We don't expect anything, — Yae declared dryly. — We were just protecting the village.

— Do you even know who we are? — asked the boy with the scar.

— A cult, a sect, a group of armed bandits? — I questioned, lifting my chin.

— Weirdos, — Yae added.

The leader let out a dark smile.

— We are the scale, — he replied, his voice unshakeable. — We are the knife that cuts out the tyranny of Ysmathal. The law of nature rewritten by mortal hands.

— And you cut out tyrants by stealing food and gold from villagers who barely have enough to eat? — Yae challenged.

— Protection comes with a price. The blood we shed demands sustenance. — His face was an impenetrable mask. — If you call that theft, it is because you have not yet seen what true monsters would do for free.

He extended an elegant arm, pointing to the empty chairs. He told us, without words, to sit.

I walked to the nearest wooden chair. They were imposing, hard seats, designed to keep our posture constantly alert before superiors.

— And the children? Do you take them for 'protection' too? — Yae provoked.

— The innocence of Ysmathal must be forged in steel before the world breaks it, — he dictated. — You possess a similar potential. That is why you are here.

— It doesn't seem like the choice is ours, — Yae countered.

— You may leave. But if you intend to go looking for your friends, they are no longer in the village, — he informed us with utter indifference.

— Do you know where they are? — I asked quickly.

— No. But if you learn with us, you can gather the strength to find them on your own, — he replied with lethal logic. — Besides, our assassins would hunt you relentlessly. No one enters our base and leaves alive.

Honestly, I just wanted to get out of that oppressive room and spend time alone with my sister to chart our own course.

— Your training begins tomorrow morning, at seven o'clock sharp, — he explained, turning theatrically. He stopped at the exit, the metal blindfold gleaming. — Discipline is highly valued among us. Do not be late.

He walked through the heavy door, and both vanished. Yae and I were left in the gigantic room, in absolute silence, afraid potential spies might hear us.

Yae approached cautiously, took my hands, and asked:

— Shall we go for a walk and talk?

— You know I was thinking the exact same thing? — I replied in a weak, joking tone.

Yae let out a loose laugh, her elegant features conveying a familiarity that warmed my soul in that den of Death.

— Let's take advantage of this temporary freedom to explore, — she proposed.

We walked toward the exit, hand in hand, exactly like we used to in Hyperion. As we walked down the lengthy corridor, the hallway began to warp beneath our feet again. An intense, white light blinded us, and when I blinked, we were surprisingly back in the hallway leading straight to my dorm room.

— This hallway is so weird, — Yae said, suspiciously eyeing every shadow.

— It's alright, Yae, — I assured her, squeezing her hand. — They don't seem to have any imminent ill intent against us.

— Not yet... but I sense sharp ulterior motives in every word that man spoke. This corridor warping reality against our will... it's as if the building itself has a mind of its own.

In Hyperion, she was always the one calming me down. Seeing her so tense and powerless against local forces was unsettling.

— We have each other, don't we? — I said, meeting her eyes. — With us united, any difficulty is just an obstacle waiting to be overcome.

Yae sighed deeply. She released the tension in her shoulders and resumed that warm, protective expression that filled my heart with hope.

— You're right... Let's look at this as a golden opportunity to learn more about the rules of Primitia, — she agreed as we approached a large double door. — I'm seriously realizing the gods taught us almost nothing about this land's cruel natural laws.

— Maybe due to our own lack of curiosity. I don't remember us ever asking how things worked down here, — I shrugged.

— Yes, but they should have had the bare minimum decency to explain before throwing us the mission to save it, — Yae replied, annoyed.

— Maybe the palace advisors didn't really know either? After all... they're trapped in Hyperion too, — I guessed.

— I doubt it. Even if they don't experience it physically, they can see the horrors of this world through their blessed mortals. Besides, the supreme God of Hyperion should be omniscient.

The exact moment she finished that thought, a flash of natural light blinded us as we crossed the threshold. The illusory corridor had led us to an elevated terrace overlooking a completely snow-covered city.

There were hundreds of rustic plants blanketed in fresh snow, and vibrant, colorful flowers that seemed illuminated from within by the ice and biting humidity. Picturesque stone houses and thick wooden cabins stylized the city with a cold, melancholy, but breathtakingly beautiful aesthetic—so far from the wealth of Hyperion and the poverty of the village we had passed through.

— Wow! — I exclaimed, utterly surprised by the poetic beauty.

— Really beautiful... — Yae added, hugging herself and shivering uncontrollably.

— Are you alright? — I asked.

— It's freezing! — she shivered, retreating to the heated protection of the stone building.

I looked out at the snow. I didn't feel the ice, nor did I notice the cold Yae was complaining about. My bare feet made direct contact with the ice-covered balcony, and my silk robe was damp... but my celestial element probably just ignored the weather.

— Yeah... it must be really cold, — I nodded in solidarity, turning my back on the white landscape to join her inside.

— There should be weather-appropriate clothes inside our room, — Yae suggested, her lips chattering as she combed her pink hair with nervous fingers.

— I really hope so, — I replied.

I gave her a tight hug, trying to transfer a bit of heat from my immune body to hers. We walked back to the dormitory hallway, holding each other, anxious to find our rooms and put on something much warmer, suited to the harsh reality of that guild.