I can't move my body.
That was the first thought that returned to him.
Not pain.
Not fear.
Not even the sound of the banquet room screaming.
Just that simple, annoying realization.
His body would not move.
Xion tried to open his eyes, but there were no eyelids to command. He tried to breathe, but there was no chest to rise. He tried to move his fingers, but he could not even tell where his hands were.
For a moment, he wondered if he had made a mistake.
The red blood fruit had worked.
The drugged wine had gone down his throat.
His body had collapsed in front of Princess Kimiko, Vera, Sean, and every passenger unlucky enough to be eating dinner during an assassination attempt.
That part had gone according to plan.
Step two.
Fake the poisoning.
Force the assassins to switch from a subtle method to a direct one.
Let the prey believe it had become the hunter.
Simple enough.
Or at least, it was supposed to be.
Yet now he was here.
Floating.
Weightless.
Unable to move.
Unable to hear the ship.
Unable to feel the poison.
Unable to sense Vera carrying him.
Unable to hear Kimiko yelling at him like a furious fox-shaped disaster.
Xion's thoughts slowed.
Could it be…
Did I die?
The question slipped through him coldly.
Then the darkness opened.
He stood beneath a red sky.
The place was familiar.
Too familiar.
A vast plane stretched endlessly beneath his feet, painted in shades of crimson, black, and fading gold. The horizon bent strangely, as if distance itself was kneeling around something unseen. Above him, the sky looked like broken glass filled with drifting stars.
In the distance stood the mural.
The red dragon devouring the world.
Its tail curled protectively around a human girl.
The False God Territory.
The place beyond the mortal plane where the Twin Numina had once brought him.
Xion looked down at his hands.
They were small.
Xion Trinity's hands.
Not Kiryuu Amuka's.
Not the older body from his false reality.
His current body.
The body on the ship.
The body everyone probably thought was dying.
A soft voice spoke behind him.
"Welcome back, Creator."
Xion turned.
Two figures bowed their heads.
The White Numina stood on his left, gentle, pale, and bright. Her voice carried the warmth of a lullaby and the danger of a prophecy. The Black Numina stood on his right, darker, sharper, and already visibly annoyed, as if Xion had interrupted her favorite argument by being unconscious.
Xion stared at them.
Then, I asked the most reasonable question possible.
"Did I die?"
The White Numina nodded without hesitation.
"Yes."
Xion froze.
Then his face cracked.
"What!?"
The Black Numina's eye twitched.
"You are so loud for someone without a heartbeat."
"I died?!"
"Not truly."
"You just said I did!"
"She answered the question badly."
The White Numina tilted her head.
"I answered spiritually."
"Spiritually?" Xion repeated, voice rising.
The Black Numina stepped forward and flicked him on the forehead.
Xion stumbled back, clutching his head.
"You are not dead, idiot Creator."
"That's not how you comfort someone!"
"I am not trying to comfort you."
"Clearly!"
The Black Numina crossed her arms.
"Your body appears dead to human eyes and supernatural perception. Your heartbeat cannot be recorded. Your breathing cannot be measured. Your pulse has fallen between intervals."
Xion's anger paused.
His eyes narrowed.
"Between intervals…"
The White Numina smiled softly.
"The drug in the wine attempted to slow your blood, dull your nerves, and weaken your Spiritual Authority Core. The blood fruit exaggerated the symptoms and forced your body to imitate poisoning. However, your Clock reacted to both."
The Black Numina continued.
"Your body slipped into a recordless heartbeat state. Time is not counting your heartbeats right now. To everyone outside, you look dead or close enough to dead that panic is reasonable."
Xion stared at her.
"So I'm not dead."
"No."
"But people think I'm dead."
"Yes."
"And my plan still worked."
The Black Numina narrowed her eyes.
"That is your concern?"
Xion placed a hand on his chin.
"If the assassin thinks I died, he'll change plans."
The White Numina blinked.
"You recovered quickly."
"He always does," the Black Numina muttered. "Emotionally unstable little strategist."
"I heard that."
"You were meant to."
Xion let out a breath.
Or at least he performed the idea of breathing.
The False God Territory did not follow the body's rules. Here, thought had weight. Names had texture. Fear had a shadow.
His gaze moved toward the red dragon mural again.
The dragon's eye remained closed.
Mostly.
A thin red line glowed beneath one lid.
Xion looked away before it could look back.
"So why am I here?"
The White Numina walked beside him. With each step she took, pale symbols appeared beneath her feet and vanished.
"Because your Clock has entered instability."
Xion's expression shifted.
"Clock?"
The Black Numina clicked her tongue.
"You already awakened the 10th Array, Clock. You use it constantly without respect, restraint, or common sense."
"I use it fine."
"You used it to throw dock workers into crates."
"They were assassins."
"You did not know that for certain."
"I knew enough."
The White Numina raised a hand gently before the argument became its own natural disaster.
"Clock is your 10th Array, but awakening an Array and stabilizing it are not the same. Many Pathwalkers awaken an ability before they understand what it is. They survive by instinct first and knowledge second."
Xion folded his arms.
"So this is about stabilizing Clock."
"Yes."
The False God Territory trembled faintly.
Far ahead, the red plane split open.
A path appeared, made of black stone and pale blue light. It stretched toward a distant structure hidden beneath drifting mist.
The Black Numina pointed.
"Walk."
Xion stared at her.
"You could say please."
"You could have avoided nearly dying during your first mission."
"I faked it."
"Your body currently has no recorded heartbeat."
"Skill issue."
The Black Numina looked ready to commit divine violence.
The White Numina giggled softly.
Xion started walking.
The path beneath his feet pulsed with every step.
Around him, the crimson plane shifted. Reflections appeared in the air like broken mirrors. Some showed the banquet room on the cruiser. Vera is carrying his limp body through the halls. Sean followed closely behind, his hand inside his pocket watch compartment. Kimiko was standing near the VIP table, trembling with rage and fear.
One reflection showed the black-suited assassin watching from the crowd.
His jaw was tight.
His eyes were cold.
He believed another killer had tricked him.
Good.
Another reflection showed the female waiter slipping away through a staff corridor.
Another showed storm clouds swallowing the ship.
Another showed something dark moving behind the walls.
Xion slowed.
"What was that?"
The White Numina did not answer.
The Black Numina did.
"Focus on your Clock."
"That thing was inside the ship."
"Many things are inside ships."
"That is the least comforting sentence I've heard today."
"Good."
Xion continued walking.
After several minutes, the path widened into a massive stairway.
One hundred and twenty steps.
At the top stood an enormous door.
It was thirty-four meters tall, made of dark stone, silver metal, and blue glass that looked like frozen lightning. A clock symbol was carved into the center, but it had no hands. Around the clock, there were several eyes, each one closed except for one that glowed bright green.
The door was ancient.
Not old.
Ancient.
Old things could be forgotten.
Ancient things waited.
Broken statues stood on both sides of the stairway. Their heads had been shattered. Their names had been carved away. The bases were cracked into pieces, and the fragments lay scattered as someone had deliberately erased them from memory.
Xion looked up.
"Where the hell am I?"
The White Numina answered softly.
"The Threshold of Clock."
The Black Numina added, "The first gate of your False God Pathway."
Xion looked around.
Only then did he realize the stairway was not built on land.
It rested on the branch of a colossal tree.
The branch stretched through the void, wider than a road, its bark black and gold. Far away, countless other branches twisted through space. Each one carried doors, gates, arches, mirrors, towers, ruins, and stairways leading to places Xion did not want to understand yet.
Some doors were made of bone.
Some of the flame.
Some were covered in flowers.
Some screamed without mouths.
Some had chains wrapped around them.
One door far below pulsed with red light, shaped like a dragon's heart.
Xion wisely decided not to stare.
A small green light drifted from the eye on the Clock door. It circled him curiously, like a firefly that had read too many forbidden books.
Xion raised a finger.
"Hey there, little guy."
The green light floated closer.
Then darted away.
"Rude."
The Black Numina spoke from behind him.
"Before you climb, understand this. Arrays are not simple levels. A 10th Array is not merely weaker than a 9th. Each Array is a state of existence. When you advance, you lose the active form of the previous Array until you reach the 1st Array."
Xion glanced back.
"I lose my old abilities?"
"You lose direct access to them," the White Numina clarified. "They become the foundation. Instinct. Structure. The Pathway consumes the old form and reshapes it into the new."
"So if I reach the 9th Array…"
"You will no longer use Clock the same way."
The Black Numina smiled faintly.
"The 9th Array of the False God Pathway is called Dragon Insanity."
The words made the red plane darken.
The mural in the distance pulsed.
Xion felt the dragon's closed eye almost open.
He swallowed.
"Dragon Insanity."
The White Numina's expression became solemn.
"It is not ordinary madness. It is identity pressure. A state where fear, pain, belief, and monstrous perception begin feeding the user's authority. If others see you as a monster, Dragon Insanity may answer. If you see yourself as a monster, it may answer louder."
Xion's gaze went cold.
"That sounds horrible."
"It is."
"Useful?"
"Also, yes."
"That is how terrible things get people killed."
The Black Numina shrugged.
"That is how power works."
Xion looked up at the door again.
The clock without hands waited.
"So I climb?"
"You climb," said the White Numina. "You stabilize Clock. You return before your enemies make their next move."
Xion placed his foot on the first step.
The moment his boot touched stone, pain struck.
Not physical.
Deeper.
His mind saw himself dying.
Not once.
Many times.
A bullet through Kiryuu's head.
A blade through Xion's chest.
Poison in a glass.
A fall from a tower.
A hand reaching for him was too late.
A dragon's shadow is closing over the sky.
He gritted his teeth.
The second step came.
The world reset.
He saw himself waking.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Each step felt like death followed by rebirth, as if Clock was forcing him to understand the price of measuring time from the wrong side.
By the twentieth step, his breathing shook.
By the fiftieth, his knees nearly buckled.
By the eightieth, his memories blurred.
Kiryuu.
Xion.
Creator.
False God Candidate.
Rejecter.
Child.
Dead man.
Bodyguard.
Monster.
Name after name pressed against him, trying to decide which one deserved to stand at the top.
Xion laughed softly.
It was not a happy sound.
"To gain power," he muttered, "you must be willing to sacrifice your humanity to claim it."
The White Numina looked sad.
The Black Numina looked pleased.
Xion stopped on the ninety-first step.
Then his expression shifted.
"No."
Both Numina looked at him.
Xion lifted his head.
"That's wrong."
The stairway trembled.
"I'm not sacrificing my humanity just because the Pathway wants to look dramatic."
The green light circled him faster.
Xion continued climbing.
"If power needs me to throw away being human, then power can wait in line and shut up."
The Black Numina's mouth twitched.
The White Numina smiled.
"Interesting," she whispered.
At the final step, the pain vanished.
Not slowly.
Instantly.
Xion stood before the door, feeling strangely new.
Light.
Clear.
As if time itself had rolled him back to a version of himself that had not yet been damaged, then left all the memories behind as proof.
Words appeared across the door.
Written in Earth's English.
Don't play with the devil. He always cheats.
Xion stared.
"Great. Even ancient doors are giving me ominous advice."
The green light landed near the clock carving.
Xion raised both hands and placed them against the door.
His mana moved.
No.
Not just mana.
Authority.
The blue glow of Clock spread from his palms, crawling across the carvings. The eyes around the door opened one by one. The clock symbol gained hands, thin and silver, both spinning wildly.
Forward.
Backward.
Forward again.
Then so fast that direction lost meaning.
The broken statues along the stairway repaired for one brief second.
Heads returned.
Names reappeared.
Robes unfolded.
Weapons shone.
Then everything broke again.
Xion's eyes widened.
"Okay," he admitted, "that is awesome."
The hands of the clock stopped.
The time read 1:32.
Xion frowned.
"Is that morning or afternoon?"
The door opened.
Stone dragged across stone.
Golden light erupted from within.
Xion covered his eyes with his left arm.
The brightness swallowed him.
He stepped through.
The other side was endless.
A dimension made only of time.
No sky.
No ground.
No horizon.
Only silver-blue currents flowing in every direction, carrying fragments of moments. A child laughing. A city burning. A sword falling. A prayer beginning. A corpse blinking. A storm is forming. A clock striking midnight. A dragon breathing in.
In front of him stood a palace.
It was built from glass, silver, blue stone, and moving clockwork. Above its entrance, an astral clock of pure light floated. The clock had no numbers, only symbols. Some he recognized.
Some he wished he did not.
The palace did not feel like a building.
It felt like an ability given architecture.
Xion stared.
"So this is where Clock lives?"
The green light floated to the palace entrance.
A knob appeared.
Xion hesitated.
Something about it felt wrong.
If he touched that door, something would change.
Not awaken.
He was already awakened.
This was deeper.
Agreement.
Acknowledgment.
Stabilization.
A contract without paper.
Will Breaker's voice stirred faintly inside his Spiritual Authority Core.
[Be careful.]
Xion's eyes narrowed.
'You're awake?'
[I am bound to you. If your Core screams, I hear it.]
'Comforting.'
[Not meant to be.]
He stepped forward and grasped the knob.
The palace pulsed.
Too late, he realized the truth.
He had already accepted the Array.
The palace unfolded into light and rushed into him.
Xion screamed.
The dimension shook violently.
His left eye burned with blue fire. Symbols spun inside his pupil: hands of clocks, open eyes, broken intervals, a ring without beginning or end.
The palace dissolved into his body.
Clock stabilized.
Not as a simple ability.
As a law written inside him.
For one instant, his consciousness touched every heartbeat his body had failed to record.
Then all of them returned at once.
Outside the False God Territory, inside Princess Kimiko's VIP room, Xion's body lay on her bed.
Vera stood beside him, one hand pressed against his wrist.
No pulse.
No breath.
No heartbeat.
Yet his body was warm.
That was the part that terrified her.
A dead body should not be warm with this much mana.
Sean stood near the bedside, his face pale and his pocket watch open in his hand. Herbs, silver needles, and small folded talismans were scattered across the table. He had tried three emergency rites and two medicinal mixtures.
None had worked.
Kimiko stood at the foot of the bed, fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms. Her fox ears were lowered. Her tail had gone still.
"He's faking," she whispered.
No one answered.
"He has to be faking."
Rain slammed against the windows.
The ship rocked violently beneath the storm.
Then Xion's chest glowed electric red.
Vera stumbled back.
"What's going on!?"
Sean's eyes widened.
The pocket watch in his hand stopped ticking.
He stared at Xion's glowing chest.
Then at his left eye, beneath closed lids, where red light burned through the skin like a star behind glass.
Sean inhaled sharply.
"His 10th Array…"
Kimiko snapped toward him.
"What?"
Sean's voice dropped.
"Clock has adapted."
The room shook.
Not from the storm.
From Xion.
Mana pressure rolled outward in waves.
The lamps flickered. The mirror cracked. The water in the bedside glass rose upward in tiny droplets, each droplet freezing in the air at a different point in time.
Vera's ears flattened.
Kimiko took one step back.
Sean placed himself between them and Xion.
"Do not touch him."
"Why not?" Kimiko demanded.
"Because time is not touching him correctly."
That was the worst explanation possible.
It was also accurate.
Far above the mortal world, in a place scholars would call the World Above only because they lacked the imagination to call it what it was, a woman opened her eyes.
She sat on the roof of a tower so tall that clouds moved beneath it in layers. Black wings folded behind her back. A small purple orb floated before her, representing the world below.
The orb trembled.
The woman smiled.
Not gently.
Not kindly.
Hysterically.
"So he's still alive?"
Her wings spread.
"I wonder how the others feel."
In the Northern Domain of the Aqetha Empire, within the Guardians of Fate and Dreams, two ancient beings sat across from one another at a chessboard.
The Guardian of Fate, a blonde-haired woman with neon eyes, had just moved her queen.
The Guardian of Freedom sat opposite her, hood drawn low enough that no one could see his face.
The board turned upside down.
The pieces floated.
Both Guardians felt the pulse.
The blonde woman fell out of her chair.
For the first time in centuries, fear struck her before dignity could catch it.
"This power…"
Her voice trembled.
"It can't be his."
The Guardian of Dream said nothing.
His hand rested over the chessboard.
The king's piece cracked.
In the Eastern Domain, on a training ground split by thousands of scars, the Guardian of War, Opik, sparred against his soldiers.
Fifty thousand men had entered the field that morning.
Only one remained standing.
Leonidas Wellard, loyal bodyguard and commander, lunged forward with his spear. His strike cracked the ground beneath him.
Opik stepped aside with a grin.
"You've gotten stronger."
"Thank you, sir!"
Leonidas saw an opening.
He struck.
For the first time in the match, Opik moved back.
Leonidas's eyes widened.
"Dammit, I missed!"
He prepared another attack, but then stopped.
Opik was smiling.
Not his usual battle grin.
Something worse.
Something wild.
He looked toward the sky as if he had smelled an opponent through the fabric of reality.
"Hehehe…"
The laugh grew.
"Hahahahahahaha!"
The ground shook beneath his feet.
"He's back!"
Leonidas tightened his grip on his spear.
"Who is back?"
Opik did not answer.
He only laughed harder.
In the Forest Kingdom, the Guardian of Life stood beneath a canopy of ancient trees.
The leaves trembled.
Branches twisted.
Some trees began shedding green leaves as if autumn had struck them in a single breath.
She placed a hand against one trunk and felt the fear moving through the roots.
"So it's true," she whispered.
Her expression darkened.
"That monster has finally returned."
In the Hollow Domain, the twin Guardians tried to ignore the pulse.
They failed.
Both brothers rose from their seats at the same time, their faces hidden beneath bone-white masks.
One rang the bell for the lower gods.
The other sent orders to alert the sealed apocalyptic beasts.
Neither spoke the name they feared.
Some names were safer when left behind teeth.
Back in the time dimension, Xion finally stopped screaming.
The Clock Palace was gone.
Or rather, it was inside him now.
He panted heavily, one hand against his left eye. Red light leaked between his fingers, then slowly faded.
He felt stronger.
Sharper.
Lighter.
Not physically stronger like Audrey.
Not overwhelmingly powerful like some divine candidate from a legend.
This was different.
His mind now knew how to stand between moments without falling.
But the toll was vicious.
His body felt like it had been taken apart, argued with, and rebuilt by a committee of clocks.
Xion blinked.
The time dimension vanished.
He returned to the red plane of the False God Territory.
This time, he stood before a round table.
At its center was a clock symbol missing one hand.
Several chairs surrounded it, pushed neatly into place. Some were ordinary. Some were too large. Some were shaped for bodies that did not resemble humans.
The White Numina clapped softly.
"Congratulations, Creator."
The Black Numina crossed her arms.
"You survived without embarrassing yourself too badly."
"That almost sounded like praise."
"It was not."
The White Numina smiled.
"Kiryuu Amuka. Xion Trinity. You are now no longer merely someone existing in this world. Your Clock has been merged within its laws. The world will have a harder time rejecting you."
Xion stared at her.
"That sounds important."
"It is."
"That sounds dangerous."
"It is also that."
He sighed.
"So what now?"
The Black Numina stepped closer and patted his back once.
A little too hard.
"Now you return. Your enemies are moving, your princess is crying, your priest is pretending not to panic, and the ship has something unpleasant inside its walls."
Xion's expression flattened.
"I knew I heard something."
"Of course you did."
The White Numina raised one hand.
"A small artifact has been left for you. It is not a weapon. Not yet. Treat it as a compass for intervals. It will help you find moments that do not belong."
Xion looked at her.
"What does that mean?"
"You will understand when it points."
"That is not helpful."
"No," the Black Numina said, smiling. "But it is funny."
Xion closed his eyes.
"Send me back."
The White Numina bowed her head.
"Good luck, Creator."
The Black Numina added, "And try not to die again."
"I didn't die this time."
"Debatable."
The red plane collapsed.
Xion fell backward into his body.
Sound returned first.
Rain.
Thunder.
Wood creaking.
The ship groaning against waves.
Then smell.
Saltwater.
Herbs.
Kimiko's foxfire.
Vera's perfume.
Sean's old-paper-and-metal scent.
Then pain.
Everywhere.
Xion opened his eyes.
His vision blurred.
For a few seconds, the room looked split into layers. The present sat in front of him. A half-second past lingered to the left. A possible next movement flickered to the right.
He blinked until the layers snapped together.
He was lying in Princess Kimiko's bed.
The sheets were silk.
Very expensive.
Very soft.
He immediately thought that dying people had excellent mattress privileges.
Sean sat beside the bed, one hand pressed against his pocket watch.
Vera stood near the wall, ears high, tail stiff.
Kimiko stood at the foot of the bed.
Her bangs covered her eyes.
That was bad.
Xion tried to sit up.
His body protested.
He ignored it and pushed himself upright.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," Sean said dryly.
Xion gave a weak chuckle.
"How long was I out?"
Sean looked at the pocket watch.
"Two hours and thirteen minutes."
Xion blinked.
"That's it?"
Vera stared at him.
"That's it?"
Kimiko lifted her head.
Her eyes were wet.
Furious.
Red around the edges.
"You had no heartbeat."
Xion paused.
"I can explain."
Slap.
The sound cracked through the room.
Xion's head turned slightly from the hit.
His cheek burned.
He kept his poker face out of instinct, but Clock registered every detail.
Kimiko's trembling hand.
Her uneven breathing.
The tears on her face.
The fear beneath her anger.
"You idiot!" she shouted. "Do you understand that you looked dead? You drank the wine, vomited blood, collapsed, and then your heart stopped!"
Vera did not stop her.
Sean did not stop her.
Xion slowly turned his face back.
"I wasn't dead."
"What the hell do you mean you weren't dead?"
"My body appeared dead because time could not register my heartbeats."
Kimiko stared at him.
Vera stared at him.
Sean rubbed his chin slowly.
"That is both fascinating and horrifying."
Kimiko's ears twitched violently.
"I don't care if it's fascinating!"
Xion looked at her.
For a second, his usual dry answer almost came out.
Something like, "I survived, so technically it worked."
But the words died before reaching his tongue.
Kimiko was not angry because the plan failed.
She was angry because she had believed he died protecting her.
That was different.
Annoying.
Heavy.
Human.
Xion lowered his gaze.
"Sorry."
The room went quiet.
Kimiko blinked.
Sean looked mildly shocked.
Vera's ears relaxed slightly.
Xion scratched his cheek, avoiding their eyes.
"I needed the assassins to panic. If they believed the poison plan failed because I interfered, they would move directly. Direct methods are easier to track."
Kimiko's fists trembled.
"So you let us think you were dying?"
"I didn't know Clock would stop my heartbeat from being recorded."
"That does not make it better!"
"No," Xion admitted. "It doesn't."
Kimiko stared at him.
Then turned away sharply, wiping her face with her sleeve.
"Stupid bodyguard."
Xion did not argue.
Sean stood and adjusted his robe.
"Xion."
The tone changed.
Priest.
Investigator.
Fate-linked owl pretending to be calm.
"What happened while you were unconscious?"
Xion glanced at him.
Then at Vera.
Then at Kimiko.
He thought of the Twin Numina.
The Threshold of Clock.
The door.
The tree of branches.
The Clock Palace.
The warning.
Don't play with the devil. He always cheats.
He thought of the Guardians in distant domains trembling at his stabilized authority.
He thought of the red dragon's eye nearly opening.
He thought of Will Breaker listening inside his Core.
"Clock stabilized," Xion said.
Sean's face became grim.
"Do not tell anyone that."
Xion tilted his head.
"Why?"
Sean looked toward the cracked mirror near the bed.
"Because the False God Pathway is forbidden in every era for a reason. Your 10th Array alone already makes you dangerous. If people learn that Clock has done a full rotation, they will stop treating you as a child with an abnormal ability."
His voice lowered.
"They will treat you as a future event."
Xion's expression remained still.
"A future event?"
"A catastrophe that has not happened yet."
Thunder rolled outside.
The ship rocked.
Vera stepped closer.
"We still have assassins onboard."
Xion looked toward the door.
"Yes."
Kimiko wiped the last tear from her cheek and glared at him.
"You are not allowed to fake dying again."
Xion opened his mouth.
Kimiko's foxfire sparked around her hands.
"That was not a request."
He closed his mouth.
"Understood."
Sean gave him a small look that almost resembled approval.
Almost.
Then Xion felt it.
A faint pull from his left pocket.
He reached in and found something that had not been there before.
A small artifact.
A silver-blue pocket watch.
Its surface was smooth, with no numbers on the face, only a single hand turning slowly. The casing bore the same symbol as the Clock door: a handless clock surrounded by eyes.
Kimiko frowned.
"Where did that come from?"
Xion stared at it.
"A gift."
Sean's eyes narrowed immediately.
"From whom?"
Xion smiled faintly.
"Bad influences."
Vera's tail stiffened.
The pocket watch clicked once.
The single hand pointed toward the wall.
Not the door.
The wall.
Everyone turned.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then something knocked from inside the ship's structure.
Once.
Slow.
Wet.
Heavy.
The same sound Xion had heard beneath the thunder before the collapse.
Kimiko stepped back.
Vera reached into her sleeve.
Sean opened his pocket watch.
Xion looked down at his new artifact.
The hand trembled toward the wall.
Clock ticked inside his chest.
The mission was still moving.
The assassins were still onboard.
The princess was still in danger.
And something else had crawled into the ship's hidden spaces.
Xion slid out of bed, bare feet touching the carpet.
His body felt light.
Too light.
As if gravity had become a suggestion he could ignore if he learned the right insult.
Kimiko glared.
"You should rest."
"I was resting."
"You were dead."
"Recordless."
"I will slap you again."
"Fair."
Xion picked up his coat from the chair and put it on. The marks on his left hand burned faintly beneath his glove.
Regression.
Rejection.
Judgment.
Clock.
He looked toward the wall.
Then smiled.
It was small.
Cold.
Very Xion.
"Let's see what decided to join our first mission."
The pocket watch clicked again.
Behind the wall, something scratched back.