While Sev told his story, the evacuation of Elyra began in earnest. Misa helped provide a few extra bodies, but by and large it was carried out by those more experienced in handling people — the job of an adventurer, after all, was not typically that of organization and management. So they left the task up to those that were suited for it.

Still, the process was not without its complications. The Adventurer's Guild, while they had the personnel trained and willing to help, weren't particularly trusted by the people of Elyra. The rebel leaders, on the other hand, were mostly well-respected members of their respective communities. There just weren't enough of them.

So more than a few arguments erupted surrounding personal belongings and personal property. There were those that tried to take advantage of the chaos, of course, hoping to score something that would give them a better start with their new lives.

And yet... There were many that didn't. There were many that took it upon themselves to help, to offer up what limited food and resources they had to ease the evacuation process. A few families were on the verge of starving, and most of the food went to them, so they would be strong enough for the journey ahead.

It took a long time. During that time, the Void spread, though it was just within the bounds of Elyra — it stopped at the walls, as if bound to the Prime Anchor that had previously kept the kingdom running.

It was a small mercy, but it was a mercy, and at this point, they were willing to take what they could get.

Xothok paced around in the Adventurer's Guild. His men had all retired for the night, their loyalty not quite enough to keep them awake just to stare at their boss' agitation. He was fine with that — no reason they all had to stay awake with him just because he couldn't sleep.

But Elyra was dying. Elyra was dying, and he couldn't do anything about it.

Not too long ago, he wouldn't have cared. He would have said the kingdom deserved what it got, for what it did to those like him. A part of him still felt that way even now; he had little sympathy for the noble houses, for those that had repeatedly snubbed him when he needed help.

Now, though, he remembered. Small bits and pieces, and he saw those memories through a lens of separation, like they weren't quite his own — but he still remembered.

He remembered a kind old woman that had split the little bread she had left with him. He hadn't even asked her for it. Apparently, he'd just looked hungry, and that had been enough for her.

He remembered the musicians that would always be playing a block from his home, that would always smile at him and toss him a halfgold from their little collection box when he passed.

He remembered a little boy that insisted he would found an organization of guardians that would defend everyone, not just Elyra. What happened to him? Xothok thought the face looked somewhat familiar, though he couldn't quite place it.

"Having a little trouble there?" Max raised an eyebrow at him.

Xothok scoffed, leaning back against a nearby wall and putting on as nonchalant an expression as he could. "No," he lied.

"We've talked about this," Max said, her voice playfully reproachful.

Xothok rolled his eyes and remained quiet for a moment more before speaking. "Worried about what's happening in Elyra," he said shortly. "Didn't think I would be, but I am."

"The Guildmaster did offer to let you help," Max pointed out, and Xothok grunted.

"Bad idea. Too much bad blood between me and a lot of the nobles there. I'd just as soon punch half of them as help them."

"At least you know your limits."

"Wish I didn't." Xothok grumbled, then unfolded his arms and walked over to Max. "What about you? Weird that you're here."

"What, because I'm supposed to be everywhere and everywhen I'm needed?" Max smiled brightly. "Guess I'm here because I need to be here! Weird."

The word was pointed. The entire lobby was empty save for the two of them. Xothok knew full well what she was implying. "I didn't need you here," he said.

"System doesn't seem to agree," she said with a smile and a shrug. "So, what can I do for ya? Need to talk about your sorrows?"

She was enjoying needling him, he thought. More likely than not it was just one of the now-common system glitches. She'd keep bugging him until he said something, though, so...

"I have more of my memories back now," he said. "There's this little boy I used to know that dreamed about creating an organization to defend the world. Kind of like the Guild, I guess. You seem to know about all kinds of things. You happen to know what happened to him?"

"Her," Max said.

"What?"

"What happened to her." Max cocked her head. "You said it yourself, didn't you? It's kind of like the Guild."

Xothok paused. A dozen loose connections formed.

"Oh," he said. "Can... can I talk to her?"

"I think she's been waiting for you to remember." Max gave Xothok a soft smile. "Come on. Let's go find her."

Velykos felt more alive than he had for years. From the look of his fellow adventurers — he supposed that was what they were, now, true-and-proper adventurers, a life he wouldn't have imagined for himself not even a year ago — they were feeling the same way.

It was the six of them against a horde. Dungeon breaks were getting more and more common these days, and the Guild could no longer keep up or keep track. Velykos and his team were in the unique position of being able to commune directly with the gods, and with that divine assistance they were able to head off dungeon breaks before they happened.

Or in this case, arrive just after it happened, and hold off the monsters as long as they could until everyone in the vicinity could evacuate to the nearest Guild branch.

It wasn't that he wanted to fight. In fact, Velykos was barely fighting at all — his skills were best suited to defense. He could sculpt barriers made of earth in seconds, blocking off passageways and directing the monsters towards his more combat-capable friends while defending the Guild branch from direct attack.

But this felt like something Onyx would have wanted him to do. He couldn't stay in a temple forever, hiding from the world.

No. The thought was carved into his very being, now, a small, abstract image of his new friends etched into the upper half of his back.

He could make a difference with whatever meager power he held, and so he would.

"I'm really sorry it came to this," Novice said. The lizardkin sat in the center of a glyphic circle — an invention of his own that Raltis had helped him with, combining old magic and system-magic for something that had some of the benefits of both. Raltis sat next to him, the otter's eyes stone-cold and steady, an unusual expression on the usually-nervous archmage.

Helg stood across from them, angry magic sparking ineffectually from her.

Key word ineffectually.

Her words were lost in the buzz of her own spells as they clashed into the antimagic barrier they had set for her. Novice had no idea if she was cursing their names or pleading for mercy, and she wouldn't stop casting for long enough for him to figure it out.

Given the nature of the spells she was casting, though, it was probably the former.

Helg's paranoid control over Teque and Fendal had lasted far longer than it should have. Most people had agreed with her at first — fear drove them, as Raltis had known it would, because that same fear had driven him — but over time...

Over time, they'd gone out and seen the effects for themselves. Raltis and Novice were not the only two to trigger the system to offer them a Soul Bond, allowing them to build on that essential substance that allowed them both to live as full, complete individuals. There were others. The two Anyatis, the innkeeper in Fendal and the magic shop owner in Teque, had apparently triggered theirs before the two Norams ever had; they'd simply kept it a secret, and communicated privately while working to try to convince others to give this thing a chance.

They had the influence and charisma to do it, too. While Raltis and Novice worked on the magic, the two Anyatis worked together to charm anyone who came by their shop. The innkeeper left her own inn to its own devices, since while the system was running things, she didn't really need to be there to manage it, and moved pretty much fully into Teque.

Slowly but surely, the people of Teque realized things could be different. That fear wasn't necessary. One way or another, the people in Fendal were reflections of themselves. Whether this was a result of the system, was pure coincidence, or was some strangeness in the way the timelines had split — it didn't matter in the face of overwhelming evidence.

The two Anyatis could accomplish more than a single one of them could. Raltis and Novice could accomplish far more with magic, too, with Raltis' experience supplementing Novice's creativity and eagerness to learn. They were the best of two worlds, grown from the experiences they had gained from two different timelines.

And Helg's influence slowly waned.

Her own counterpart within Elyra had died shortly after the beginning of the separation between Teque and Fendal — no surprise there, and no mystery as to who had done it.

"I'm sorry too, Helg," Raltis said. The otter looked sad. Novice could feel through the soulbond how much Helg had meant to him. She'd saved his life a number of times.

Now she was blinded by fear and paranoia. That by itself might have been fine, but she wouldn't stop fighting. Wouldn't stop trying to kill the people of Fendal, and at this point, with the soulbonds in place, that would just kill them all.

She was too dangerous to have around.

"I can do it myself," Novice told Raltis. "You can close off your bond with me."

"No, I... I have to do this." Raltis clenched tiny hands.

Together, they surged mana into the glyph beneath them, and the barrier surrounding Helg flashed.

When the light faded, she was gone.

"How's Anderstahl's stability looking?"

"Not great. 75% across the board. We're not on the verge of collapse, but it's close. Our Anchor is already pulling from every other anchor nearby, and it's destabilizing everything surrounding us. Part of it is the addition to our dungeon, but part of it is just the natural System decay."

"We're lucky we remembered when we did. Lucky Seven left us all these manuscripts. Do you think he did something to make us remember?"

"Almost certainly. He's the only loose variable. Everything he touches..."

"Everyone he touches, too."

"Heh. Touches."

"Shut up, Gerald."

"They're headed here next." A small pause. "We should get ready for their arrival. There will be a lot of refugees."

"Any luck finding a solution?"

"...No. Seven might have left more behind, but we haven't found anything. I don't think we will, either, unless he wants us to."

Deep within the Void, there was a silent click.