Treading lightly

"The moment life flashed before the eyes of those passing can often trigger not just in life-ending situations. Cliche like magic, it can come about when one's soul is at peace for any reason. It is often when a human being (alive or dead) relaxes too far that the soul shows such things. There has always been a healthy disconnect between a living mind and the memories of souls. The ignorance of bliss.

Humans are an odd bunch, the realm they live in coexists with many other living realms and have adapted to be blind touching to all such connections. The excuse for imagination or because it was nature's intent. Like humans, the compendium of this universe has many segments given to Bookkeepers. They by nature deal with having thinner boundaries within their soul and constantly have these flash-before-the-eye moments. It is why bookkeepers are insane, distrustful, and cast to lurk in the shadows of any social society.

Eclipsed spaces of existence do include the many layers of hell and heaven, just off the filter from human sight. Just as dreams, worlds of connected reality (as such recorded as entertainment to humans through books and media), and even creature realms like where Gin and Yoki come from. Even most god realms and domain realms are protected by those gods.

All have a place inside the compendium. Have a name. Have a place. No reason why other than just to remark that these things can be real. But this is breaking quite a few boundaries of protection. So we must daily things small once more."

Miss Luna sits posed of her left hand in a blocked pose. Letting the many ethereal spirits around her take a moment of pause to settle any unhealthy habits or scary thoughts to wisp away.

She sits back reclining onto the corpse of an existence eater. The Scythe she is anchored in keeping is stuck splitting a vital soul component from escaping. It pours a sea of many colors beyond any sort abilities of sight can handle, always a dull but flaking substance. This stuff could be what opals are made from, or at least the sticky fluid resemblance is uncanny.

"What can't be explained?" A hardened fighter in rusted armor, trembling at his last ease was brave to be stupid. Breaking the sheer silence between what was a moment ago the bust down of a demon cult in a shady back ally of eclipsed worlds. The exact location doesn't matter. From the moment the ritual was able to complete, the arrival of existence started to collapse around them and that time began to pull thinner. The thread of existence itself was so tight that it allowed her to harvest this rude worm from eating away the inner boundaries. Any left standing consciously barely clung to any ability to comprehend what happened to them. Falling into a dazed near sleep, feeling that her gaze was uncomfortably always over them as they faded from their wake world to the sleep realms. Now the bodies are indistinguishable from living or dead, laying cross together like this. She can focus on removing the worm of the gateway for this gate to be closed temporarily. She has to drag this corpse of a worm back to her dream territory, to feed the masses that call her madame. They hungry ceaselessly, making that hunger her own. Without this basic bond between her and them, there was no foundation for her to return among the timeline seamlessly without disturbing history too costly. She learns the hard way in other universes how bad a price it would be to change history forever like that. Then again, changing things so dramatically helped worst of souls in the rankings.

Gladly she answered the question before they even asked it. They all are in a state of extreme situational cause for their souls to reflect upon their existence. Be both the living and the dead trapped in their own minds will not recall this worm or her being here. They will maybe at best consider this a hazed lapse of hallucinations by the wounds or dying. What can't be explained is what they will never accept remembering.

She knows time isn't in her favor being here. The worm stuck through the Scythe was gripped enough hook for her to pull this head back to the other side. Once she was through safely back in dream worlds, she can release all the souls that aren't digested yet. Playing surgeon to prying the worm's mouth and stomach, clawing out these souls herself in the form she wears to be left alone. Being an altered inhuman shape that towers and digs about the worm's corpse. The face is finally as natural as it gets, long pull. Expression of constant suffering of mental inflect, starvation from eating anything decent, the pain of shut down organs that empowered her existence here, and exhausted drain of energy. This hunt spent a lot and this worm was the only source of meat she can make food with. That of the souls giving off terrified energy from being saved by her, or that they aren't coping with the situation. Negative energies that her curse can keep her stable for a short period. The prospects of cooking this worm meat were like trying to not eat potatoes in a method done already. No amount of dirt, seasonings, or way of changed texture does it ever satisfy that craving in her.

"I need pearls." A passing traveler along this stretch of existence takes a stop in pondering what to do and where to in. This isn't her area and it be rude to ignore a likely nightmare lord or proxy master. She gives them a study of some attention and concluded by their fear of both her and the worm. They didn't want to be bothered. She shurgs at them and continued dragging the car size thing across fencing of dream territory. None disturb her, just another oddity stranger in a sea of them. She was creepy and quirky which was exactly why she blends in seamlessly with the dream worlds.

"Our Beloved lady brings home meat!" She was close enough and now the many souls under her authority came to drag the worm the rest of the way. Some are impatient and face frist into the best parts. She doesn't mind. She continues to be able to pry more souls once the caucus was settled in one place. She lets the souls a drift back in safer parts of dream worlds. They can wake or die as they please. She no longer allowed access into both living or death tome. She must let someone else do that.

The worm's eat any and types of existence. This one was eating time from other worlds. Sand of many thousands worlds and existence. She jars it and labels it as dangerous as it should be known. She got a vacuum out for every last sand of time. All into the sealed urn since so much of it was being collected.

This is prime example of why the corpses are dangerous too, the hazardous stomach content is not just souls. She opened on before to find lava from a Clothus realm before. Clothus realms are broken laws that still can sustain souls in broken manners. She is considered one but there isn't a concept for the type of Clothus she is. There are many types of clothus as there is ways law breaks or soul shatter. But no one documents this. She was going to as the index keeper of this universe but now she isn't.

Extracting more material that doesn't belong here. She will just have to put it into the Broken souls tome storage, they use these things. Stone work with strange glowing properties. The bones and bodies of dreamers. There is broken masks, she suspects this worm ate clothus. But the clothus souls are long gone or digested to nothing. Reaching further and cutting through more its length. The was once a bigger body worm but someone chopped the head off thinking it will die. Worm's can live without heads for short times. The head itself becomes a small version, as this is example.

"Lady Mystic, you have visitors." She holds the core of the worm to her, and leans herself out of the corpse. Looking upon the creature servant in her care. She posed offering meat with a spare limb she has, they accepted with a bow. She stands with Scythe collected. Many arms holding something Harvested. Her main front hands hold the worm soul.

The opal liquids pools all directions around her, fountain from the soul she holding. Every inch covered in such liquid and spraying her nightmare worm hunter uniform. A walking gemstone that towered over the camp fire the guest were told to wait. This place was the edge of time sand dunes, a place where smaller worm's and hatchling live. A single grain of time here was eternity measured as a moment.

"What exactly is she?" So they were still talking between themselves. Asking what she is and why she owned the dreams at the edge of endless sand dunes. Many full servants lay here purring happy of full bellies, meant to be guarding the guests from harm.

"A dead human." The intellectual types soon stand to bow, "We will harvest anything else, belove madame." Quick to follow the blood trail behind her. One slipped in the sticky properties and scrambled at getting up. She leaned an arm that was, picked them up, and frees them to scamper faster. She sits with holding the soul, Harvesting many bottles as she can of the liquid blood pouring from the soul of the worm. Endless as it seems and pours a few grains on the soul at a time. Glitching the amount of sealed barrels of blood being harvest. Once the spray stopped and all there is a clumpy stone mass. She began eating the soul. The barrels gone at a blink. This soul wasn't crunchy like the soul snatcher. This was fleshy like a fruit, has a smooth ease texture to enjoy.

"Welcome to the edge of time and the last tampers of open unrecorded space. Here guarded by dreams until the index of this universe realizes its missing 3 realm books worth of souls." She tilts looking to the horizon of dune sand, "Maybe worse." She tilts back to this little party of people around her camp flame. She takes many more bites of the soul long past any point of wonder if they will speak at all. Maybe she was to scary looking. She does not care for such things anymore. Maybe they are soul sensitive, able to hear the worm she is eating. Even so, she doesn't care for that either. She finds herself sitting her preferred place at the flame, hand carelessly cooking the soul that is left in her hand to the camp flame. She enjoys the popping and whistles the flesh makes cooking in the flame. She reclines to finally relax, the Scythe put away and she shrunk to her subconscious appearance. Back to a more human way she sees herself. Enjoying the soul hot cooked with the new flavor and texture of meat it is.

"Does it ever bother you that you are what you eat?" She certainly heard this asked at her. But she smiles mute and doesn't look at them directly. She would use ways of excuse to make leans and tilts, using her sight edge to examine this group before her. She concluded that this was more people from the Silverstone Empire that continued to be a throne in her side. The uniforms. The shared make of weapons. The language used. Accents that differ by soul status.

"I am a dead human. I have nothing valuable to anyone here." She warns, "I am not the index holder of this universe."

"But you are the index administrator of the neighborhood around this universe. You existence in the boundaries between us. According for all of the other things that just have books we can't access." She stabs a silver knife down at the floor at her front. This is her strike system. They say to much, a knife will stab again. The limit of knives differ in her mood. But these are physical warnings and reminders. Just as sin chains are.

"Denied because you are to young. You do not even comprehend the vast. You don't even have control of this universe. This place falling apart, breaking by the passing movement. You will not be granted asylum through me. You will have to beg to the Enders or someone else." She added three, from the reactions they gave and the emotions they displayed for being told this. She stares darkly now and even the camp flame was losing strength of her aura. Tembling the creatures at watch to scatter.

"There is no other soul authority we know of." She picked up all four knives and used the force of them to send them all back to the waking world. Back to the realm they call home. She eased with less around here and sits at her camp fire. She thinks things over.

"A new arrival from the unknown." She stands with dusting off and picked up a torch of this flame. She follows her pet to this visitor.

This isn't how life after death should be for a human. But she is a broken one. Laws changed due to her adaptive nature and history traces. She accepted this was the universe tell of what she is to do in order to be allowed existence. She doesn't get the choice in the matter of what she is and why. This is how the souls painted her and how she must act according to them. Such a burden carries a broken chain, one more like metal thread made of shattered promises and always the links between are always ready to fall apart. Fragile but persist as she is.

"Here..." The pet pointed towards a injured man and leave them. She sighed at how there is always the injured coming to her, she approached softly and sits beside. Voiceless at taking out a medical emergency kit. So gentle at cleaning some of the wounds and still nothing is said. She doesn't know if this body was just what it borrowed to be here or if this is actually them. Either way, the kindness of just helping goes a long way. Even the damned have crossed back to proper spirits for simple things. She handled so many burden soul names, top to bottom. Even those that crawl hell have purpose in name. Even if the purpose would seem pointless and without meaning to one view of meaning. There is always curtains of other veils that live beside that need these pointless things. This is how a connected universe unified itself, through seemingly pointless things we never think about as rational or become so use to it that it is the 'normal'. The bandage wrapping the strangers arm, it made her stop thinking so harshly of herself.

"I came to ask about some names. I don't want to see them. I just want to know if they are OK." She tilts at understanding but afraid of what lengths this stranger went be this far. To know how to find her and what to ask her. They know peering at soul names isn't wise, so asking if she would just tell of their condition. She worries... this universe isn't stable as it seems and worse was if the souls they asked about came from here. She softly posed her concern, it is a lot of effort to find a few names and not know where they are. She can at least ease the pain thier soul must feel, at the risk of it breaking if it is bad news. But knowing something like this was closure. She can understand that much.

"I am sure you want to know why." She shook no to their surprise, "What if I wanted harm over them?"

"No soul is that crazy unless you are broken. Even then, you don't carry sins or regerts. You don't wear illusions and came here covered in the scars of the ordeals you faced to find me. You will have spent plenty of the sand around here debating your reaction and if you would even go back or not." She softly posed with hands, "These hands don't seem weak. So worn out, a hard worker of whatever craft. You must be in pain but you are here. Here regardless of love or hate. You just want to know, you already knew them some way. Met them. know their face and how they speak. The manners they will have." She gives back their hands and looks at them properly eye to eye, "I don't know nor care what the universes beyond call of me. I do not care why this universe treats me as I am." They broke contact, shivering and looking away, "In spite of all this danger, fear that I would eat you. Aware that I must wear my fear, regerts and pain. You have came here to ask me how they are. Even a rotten freak in hell can have some semblance of care to something." She brought out the broken tome, "So please stay in reach of my touch light. I shall return with whatever news I can find for you." She stands and looks upon the broken book, "What sort of method will you take me today, broken tome?" The book flustered. Like it was embarrassed in hearing her say it that way but her glare cuts away any dirty thoughts. She was turned into ink in a instant and the book itself floats enjoying the flowing movement of ink on the pages. It doesn't take long to see the souls here giving her the answers she needed in all the sort questions she needed to know. Who this guy is, where he came from and who he asked about. She had even extra about why. It was quiet wholesome notion, a brother worried for is sister after the was married off. Obviously the plot here woth the stranger was to long a history to full details, but details that far didnt matter for context. Family binding. The souls this guy needed to know were fine, given the sort of world they live in now. Even in knowing the Ender of that universe was a fragile guy, his not one to upset souls. This sort of thing would hurt but keep him hoping and sane. She gathered enough for now. Back out the depth of darkness by climbing the torch light back to the stranger. Back to the dream scenery of open fields of dunes. Startled the man is for seeing her reappear from crawling out of a puddle. Yet he is kind, returning a kind favor. She healed him before and now he offered his left hand to help her stand. She gladly allows this, sitting down and trying to calm herself from being in such a messy book. She clearly had a long while of ordeals, her clothes not so neat as before and she looked drained even more so.

"They are happy in the universe they ended in. It's not the worst place to be. The biggest scary thing around that place is just a hurt soul like me. Not that I recommend invoking anything to that extent. There is plenty of us hurt souls in every universe but those two you cared for are fine. Given the situation, they are powerful and considered royalty. Don't go there. That place is several fragile universes with shared twisted history. You can make a mess of the hard work. I wouldn't even mess with their boundaries. The Enders there are unpredictable in your language."

They seem uncomfortable with her answer. She not sure if that he cared about them or his greaves that they are fine.

"You aren't telling me everything." He gathered.

"What we do know from so much we as a collective of hurt strangers from shared boundaries. A universe collapsed and then shattered over all of us. Each parallel universe has had a dealing with broken things due to such extreme circumstances. Several multiverse wars have came and passed. Many realms like this universe have been left torn in scars, even of the dwellers within can't see these fragile seams." She shook, "Those five enders are the only ones not killing each other or destroying the universe as they should be. Instead they work together for some long game, playing chicken with God souls and waiting out what the next extreme soul threat to happen next." She stare out to the vast dunes beyond them, "Pull things back from the brink isn't easy. We are all punished one way or another. Breaking or bending rules to save what there is little left. Consumed at trying to satisfy some end or beginning or whatever. Curse each taboo knowledge and suffered to be painted alien monster invaders in the universes that carved them as they are. So those two are indeed handling a responsibility that little have power, ability or knowledge of. Suffering in the thankless task. Taking what can't be returned." She gently stands properly and the man does to, "Its us broken folks that are protecting you. See out there beyond the dunes of sand. Do you see as a breeze sprays the grains that it sprays on things you can't see?" He tries a long while of staring that way as she stated, "They are wolves and we are sheep. Well..." She posed hand at hiding her jaw line, "they are the things that break universe law, you are the bait to my hook. This is the payment for receiving my answer about souls." He shivered at finding it now, he can see what she talks about. A spray of blood painted them both, she is faster then a blink. Dismemberment of whatever that monster was and the parts gifted to the small creatures around her. Back she is in the blue liquid, mouth working on something she ate too. Time is illusive around these parts. He got what he wanted and paid the price. He is fast at running any direction that doesn't mean her or another monster that will eat him. She picked up the dying flame torch and carried back to her camp. Back to relaxing at the flame and getting lost within herself. Back to watching boundaries from the abilities she held. In flicker of flames, she over sees the thundered clattered tomes. This is a lovely break from hunting at least.