Was the amnesia crafted by her own hand? What kind of storm is that?

Another voice?

Could this be Rexi’s taint? But her hands and feet look normal, her spirit clear as spring water. Maybe each corruption wears its own mask.

What were her original memories?

She has Authority Power too. Could it be memories about the Dark Deity?

Lucimia thought, then let the thought drift like smoke. She looked like she had no tie to Ment or Nirael. Maybe it was some other shadow of the Dark Deity. Lucimia didn’t want the web to snag her.

Nirael never told her the Empire had a third Dark Deity. If there was one, Nirael would have spoken under the sun.

If Nirael stayed silent, either the thread doesn’t reach, or she doesn’t know. If she doesn’t know, the two sides likely never touch, like parallel rivers.

Thinking that, Lucimia refused to dig deeper. The more she digs, the more brambles catch. One Purification Deity already strangles like a vine.

She had no taste for Olivya’s Devouring plan. Whatever happens to this world is ash to her; she wasn’t born under this sky.

She was a rebel to the bone, a blade turned against the scabbard.

Her aim was sharp and simple. Help Nirael. Gather intel. Maybe test Bevi. Find the Time Ability Users’ traces, then Devour them all and seize the Temporal Authority.

Then use the Temporal Authority to find Yuna and Desty. Then lock Elyssus for a hundred years, let her life run out like sand.

Nothing else.

“Alright, enough talk. Rest. It’s late like a drowned moon. Tomorrow morning we go find Bevi. You said you can take us in—sure? Not just talk?”

“Relax, relax.” Rexi puffed her small chest like a sparrow. “I can definitely get you inside! I’ve always done it this way.”

“Fine.” Lucimia let belief float for now, like a leaf on calm water.

—

Lies.

Lucimia didn’t trust her. She didn’t even dare sleep, afraid of a dagger in the night fog.

She rose, and looked at the girl sleeping on the blanket like a fallen petal.

The girl’s hair was silk, spread on the pillow like black water with a light fragrance. Her skin was smooth as pressed cream. Her long lashes trembled like moth wings. A sweet smile touched her lips, like she’d met something bright in a dream.

Lucimia couldn’t help a sigh. “Say what you will. Her heart is enormous. She knows I’m a Dark Deity, yet sleeps this deep? No fear at all?”

Lucimia’s own heart was full of thorns. Even with Ment ruled out, she feared another crafty Dark Deity playing smoke-and-mirror chess to mislead her.

Dark Deity tricks were rain from all directions; any sky could split. She had to keep her guard like a drawn bow.

“Since you’re asleep, let me Devour your memories again. Let’s see what your Authority Power is.”

Lucimia set the Devouring range like drawing a circle in sand. She sent out a shadow; it skimmed over the girl like a swift, then slipped back into her palm.

She felt the memories return like a tide, then froze.

“Blank. Nothing.” Lucimia’s face tightened like stone.

The Fuzzy Orb found nothing about her Authority Power from Rexi.

“Is she lying? If so, how did she keep her memories like a sealed jar?”

“Try Bevi’s memories.”

Lucimia did the same, the shadow circling like a hawk, then returning empty.

“Again nothing? If there’s nothing, was it all spun from air? Is she tricking me?” Lucimia frowned, a crease like a knife. “Still can’t explain how her memories stay. Maybe her ability blocks reading, like a veil.”

“An Exemption-type Authority Power? It looks like Exemption. But didn’t Olivya Devour Exemption? Devoured Authorities shouldn’t bloom twice in other bodies.”

Lucimia bit her lip like a cherry, thinking in tight loops.

Maybe leave her. Go into Erwei City alone, like a lone traveler stepping into rain. She saved me; we’re square. No need to knot more threads.

Do that.

Lucimia hated extra branches. With anyone by her side, fate usually soured like overripe fruit.

She walked to the cave mouth where night pooled, then stopped. After a breath, she turned back.

“Wait. Let me Devour last night’s memories again.”

The shadow slid from her palm like ink, then returned. The content jolted Lucimia like cold water.

“Gone? Where’s the memory of her being hunted last night?” She hurried, sent the Fuzzy Orb to Devour the memory of their talk under the stars.

The returned stream was the same—nothing, like it had never existed, like chalk wiped from a slate.

“What does that mean? Does she gain a defense while sleeping, like my passive Devour All Things?”

Should I wake her? Devouring after she wakes feels messy, like mud on silk.

Then use the Disguise Power. Mask the cave. Mask my face. Let her think it’s a dream. Then let the Fuzzy Orb Devour her.

Later, if she speaks, I’ll play dumb. What? I never touched you. You were dreaming.

Feels workable, like a bridge over mist.

Lucimia acted at once; she was a blade that moves when thought sparks.

She disguised the cave into one from those explicit comics of her previous life—a tentacle cavern. Meat-knots bulged everywhere, slick and shining with viscous slime like wet coral.

Then she changed herself into a half-monster. Behind her, countless tentacles waved like a forest in wind—thick, thin, twisted, studded with suckers, each a creeping vine.

She guided the viscous tendrils. They writhed and flowed toward Rexi, slow as snakes in grass.

A slick tentacle touched Rexi’s calf, then climbed, coiling around her waist. The tip pressed to her cheek like an icy petal.

The cold made Rexi blink through fog. She opened her eyes, dazed like a child at dawn.

“Mmm… what’s so cold…” She touched her face, and her fingers sank into sticky softness like dough.

“Huh?!”

Wrongness surged. Sleep scattered like a flock of birds. Her eyes snapped open.

“Oh my god, where is this? Am I dreaming?” Rexi stared at the red, pulsing meat-cavern around her, stunned like a deer.

She tried to rise, but bindings held like ropes in wet clay. She couldn’t move. She looked down. Her legs and waist were wrapped in tentacles. One stuck to her face like a leech.

She followed the tentacle’s line, and saw Lucimia not far away, turned into a tentacle fiend like a nightmare painting.

Lucimia’s smile was wicked, a crescent blade. She let out a cackle. “Ke-ke-ke.”

“I believe it. I’m definitely dreaming.” Rexi felt faint, like a candle in wind.

Lucimia sent more tentacles crawling, a tide mounting onto Rexi. Rexi couldn’t move, so she yelped, “Waaah—waaah—don’t touch me! Why would I dream this?! How do I wake up?!”