Dravon’s ship broke formation and began descending toward the third layer. From a distance, it looked like a drifting belt of broken islands stitched together by force alone. As we drew closer, the scale became clear. This wasn’t a single platform or station. It was a clustered region of massive rock fragments, each one large enough to hold cities, all anchored in place by thick bands of Essence and reinforced laws.
Structures rose directly from the stone and stacked as if the rocks themselves had been carved. Streams of Essence flowed openly between them, glowing lines that acted like roads in the void, guiding ships, cargo carriers, and troop transports along fixed paths.
We docked along one of the outer platform. The impact sent a dull vibration through the hull, quickly swallowed by stabilizing fields. As the ship opened, I pulled my cloak tighter and lowered my hood. One by one, the others did the same. Faces vanished into shadow. Only Dravon and Mazikeen remained uncovered.
The moment we stepped out, the sound hit me.
Distant explosions rolled through the void like slow thunder. Somewhere far ahead, weapons discharged in rhythmic pulses. Essence surged and snapped as shields absorbed impacts. Even through layers of law, the battlefield made itself known.
We lifted off from the docking platform and followed behind Dravon and Mazikeen. Below us, cargo vessels moved in long lines, hauling crates of weapons, medical supplies, and broken hull plates. Wounded ships limped back toward the inner platforms, their shields flickering weakly as repair crews swarmed over them.
The glow of the rift dominated everything.
It sat far ahead, beyond the empty space where the fighting raged, like a warped sun suspended in the void.
Colors bled into one another, twisting and folding as if the light itself was being torn apart. Even from this distance, I could feel it tugging at the laws around it, pulling, grinding, never resting.
The sheer size of the battlefield was overwhelming. This entire region easily dwarfed the capital of Armus, not just dwarfed it. It made it feel insignificant. Hundreds of platforms. Thousands of ships. Tens of thousands of lives moving in constant rotation, all to keep that thing from pushing one step further.
Dravon slowed near a cluster of interconnected structures and angled toward one of the larger rock masses. "My quarters are here," he said. "From this point onward, everything you hear and feel will only get worse. Get used to it."
We descended toward the platform, the glow of the rift reflecting faintly off every surface.
The structure Dravon led us to barely deserved to be called a residence.
It sat embedded into a massive chunk of dark stone, one of countless anchored rocks forming the third defensive layer.
From the outside, it looked like a hardened bunker rather than a home, angular, low-profile, and reinforced on every side. Thick Essence lines ran across its surface like veins, pulsing faintly as they absorbed stray fluctuations from the battlefield. There were no decorative markings, no banners, no attempt at intimidation or comfort. Everything about it existed for one purpose: function.
Inside, the quarters were exactly what I expected.
A single floor. Three rooms.
The main hall doubled as a meeting space, with a reinforced table bolted directly into the stone floor. The kitchen was small and utilitarian, stocked with preserved rations. The bedroom held nothing more than a hardened resting slab and storage compartments built into the walls.
No windows. Only narrow vents, allowing air circulation without exposing the interior.
"This place isn’t meant for living," Dravon said plainly. "It’s meant for surviving."
He turned to me. "Should we start the discussion now?"
I shook my head. "Give us an hour."
Dravon paused, studying my face for a brief moment, then nodded. "Very well. I’ll return in an hour."
Without another word, he turned and left, Mazikeen following behind him.
The door sealed shut behind us, and the roar of the battlefield faded into a distant, muffled hum. The walls absorbed most of the sound, leaving only a low vibration that felt more like a heartbeat than noise.
’So, did you notice them?’ Aurora’s voice echoed calmly in my head.
’Of course,’ I replied without hesitation. ’They’ve been following us since we crossed the veil.’
There were three of them.
Transcendent demons, careful and disciplined, hiding their presence well enough that an ordinary transcendent might have missed them entirely. Even now, they were positioned outside the bunker-like structure, spread out in three different directions.
The strongest among them was around level 370.
That alone told me enough.
Commander Saleos wasn’t careless. He was cautious. Paranoid, even. And in a place like this, that wasn’t a flaw.
’What do you want to do?’ Aurora asked.
’For now,’ I replied, ’all of you act normal. Sit down in the hall. No sudden movements. No tension.’
The response was immediate.
"All right," Primus said out loud, playing his role perfectly. "I need to meditate for a while. Don’t disturb me."
He moved to one corner of the hall and sat down, his posture relaxed.
"Same," North said quietly. She chose another corner, resting her back against the reinforced stone wall, closing her eyes as if settling into light meditation.
Steve stretched his arms. "I’ll check the bath," he said casually, already moving. "If we’re stuck here for an hour, I’m not wasting it."
I didn’t comment. I simply nodded and walked toward the only bedroom.
Once inside, I closed the door and let the silence settle.
Then I activated Right to Insight.
The world sharpened instantly.
The walls thinned in my perception, layers of reinforced stone and law-bound Essence becoming transparent to my senses. Outside, the three demons came into clear focus. Their breathing patterns. Their Essence circulation. The way they masked their presence while still watching everything.
They were here to observe. I sat down on the edge of the bed, calm and unhurried. It was time for me to explore this place on my own.