CHAPTER 6

The spirit realm defied easy explanation. It was a dreamlike reality where powerful beings, those with sufficient will to resist the onslaught of chaos that sought to dissolve their consciousness, could communicate. It consisted largely of memories, or warped composites thereof. To speak with someone within this realm, one needed to locate a memory featuring that individual and establish contact.

Matrix entered the spirit realm. Memories floated and drifted around him, populating the void and painting the landscape with a kaleidoscope of colors like clouds scattered across a stormy sky. A familiar pressure assaulted his mind, a constant force attempting to erode his awareness, to plunge him into the state mortals often called sleep, where he would mindlessly relive snippets of his past, or distorted amalgamations of his experiences.

Below him, he saw a memory where he was kneeling before the Oblivion Council, his father seated on the throne he himself occupied today. But now, the palace hall was barren, leaving only the throne within the obsidian room. The memory was tethered to another by a thread of pure energy, like a strand of lightning – the moment he first discovered his powers.

Good days, he mused, a rare moment of nostalgia.

Each memory was connected to another, that was how he navigated this chaotic space. But this particular memory was too deeply buried, too far removed from the present.

I need to find a more recent one first. He thought, his eyes darting around. He found a suitable memory, a fleeting echo of the recent past. It showed Cyfor, his head twisted at an impossible angle in Matrix's grasp. That memory was strung to another – a blank wall where the Fate King should have stood during their conversation but he wasn't there .

Ignoring the empty void, Matrix traced the connection back, seeking the memory he truly desired: his battle with Moyin, a mere few hours ago. He surged through the kaleidoscope of moments, willing himself into the specific scene he wanted to relive.

There he was, witnessing the mudarians clashing with Scarlet Dust. The clarity of a god's memory was not to be underestimated. Everything was crystal clear, as vivid as if he were living it again.

"Se'mudara!"

Matrix called out, his voice more than just sound, a resonant force. Instantly, everything within the memory shuddered to a halt. Time seemed to pause. Then, slowly, reality itself began to unravel. The Mudarians, Scarlet Dust, his generals, even the environment around them began to shift and distort, mimicking the behavior of objects drawn inexorably toward a black hole. Sections remained fixed while others flowed, merging and blurring, creating an image akin to paint smeared carelessly across a canvas.

Well, except for Se'mudara and Matrix that is.

She turned to Matrix, her lips moving, but a heartbeat passed before he heard her voice.

"Listening," she replied, her tone measured.

"Meet me at my palace now!"

Matrix commanded, and then severed his connection, snapping back into the physical realm.

He opened his eyes and found himself in the dark, oppressive obsidian hall. The wind was dying down, and the shadows were receding, but their intensity was nowhere near as potent as earlier when he had been exasperated, a testament to why Ugzyton, who stood before the throne, hadn't been tossed across the hall.

"My liege," Ugzyton bowed, and began, "Reports from the recon squad and…"

"Report them to Phantom when he returns from the healers," Matrix said dismissively. Ugzyton bowed knowingly, preparing to depart.

Since there had been no major casualties, Matrix had no patience for the details. He had more pressing matters, and listening to Ugyzton drone on would be like tolerating a fly buzzing in his ear.

He had always resented his father for what he perceived as callous indifference, but he now understood the crushing weight of shouldering the fate of all realms.

Earlier, Matrix had gambled, sending nearly all his soldiers to safeguard the Anchor Realm's cities, despite knowing Se'mudara's Mudarians were already working to maintain order. Yet, misgivings lingered. And that was but one of many risks he had taken to protect the other realms.

Speaking of Se'mudara, she strode in, her features etched with a frown. Her silver armor gleamed against her lithe form, her great sword sheathed at her side. Ugzyton bowed as he passed her, hurrying out of the room. Matrix knew that as she stood before him, she was simultaneously present in all the realms within that universe. Spreading her powers so thin was why she couldn't conjure portals as he could; she relied on flight to compensate.

Despite often being referred to as an angel, her powers rivaled those of a goddess.

"This had better be worth my time, World King," she stated, impatience simmering beneath her clipped tone. "I have a vengeance to execute. Scarlet Dust has tested my patience once too often."

Matrix sighed. "Relax. We need to talk."

At his word, a chair rose smoothly from the obsidian floor. The imposing angel settled into it, and before she could speak, Matrix continued.

"As much as I'd like you to teach Scarlet Dust a lesson, I'm afraid you'll have to set those plans aside, Se'mudara. We have larger problems."

Her expression shifted, her piercing gaze locking onto Matrix's. He took it as a cue to continue.

"The Fate King paid me a visit. He delivered some troubling news."

"I see." Se'mudara tilted her head, observing Matrix seated upon his throne. "You seem troubled, World King. What could possibly alarm you so?"

"According to the fragmented pieces I managed to glean from the Fate King's cryptic pronouncements, an unknown terror has been unleashed."

Se'mudara's gaze hardened, the subtle shift in her demeanor revealing her growing unease.

"For the Fate King to reveal himself after so many years, this news cannot be taken lightly. However, there is still far too little information to act upon."

"I know," Matrix replied. "That's why I summoned you."

"Enlighten me," Se'mudara prompted, her voice laced with a hint of challenge.

"Have you detected any irregularities in any of the realms?" Matrux questioned

"My reach to my Mudarians outside this realm is limited, and they are acting strictly on standing orders. Within the Anchor Realm, everything appears to be stable… aside from our skirmish earlier."

"I need better intelligence," Matrix murmured, more to himself than to Se'mudara.

"You appear to have a plan," Se'mudara commented, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have insisted on my presence here in person."

"Indeed. I've narrowed my search to two sources: You, and… Deebyr."

"The Oracle?" Se'mudara asked, her brows arching in surprise.

"Yes, the Oracle."

"What makes you think she'll be inclined to assist us, considering you murdered her partner and imprisoned her in Oblivion for almost three centuries?" Se'mudara challenged, her eyes fixed on Matrix.

Not my proudest moment, Saint. I was forced to act when your Mudarians proved incapable of handling him. I also had to act when she subsequently went on a rampage. I am always forced to act!" Matrix ran a hand through his hair. "Forgive me. This tension has been weighing heavily on my mind."

He took a deep breath to compose himself before continuing.

So, to answer your question, I believe the Fate King wants us to seek her out.

"And what leads you to that conclusion?"

"He left traces of his blood here before departing. And I doubt I need to lecture you on the significance of that blood," Matrix remarked, walking to where the Fate King had stood. He picked up five crystallized beads of dark energy, barely discernible against the obsidian floor. The energy that radiated from them was subtle, yet profound. Matrix opened a small *pocket dimension* and dropped them inside.

"If that's the case, then I agree, we must leave now," she said.

"It seems my days of rest are over," Se'mudara added, rising from her seat, her expression a mixture of determination and weariness.