Die. Respawn. Repeat.

One thing I hadn't really considered on the way down is that the flower's blooming outside the building—the inside isn't exactly filled with pretty blue petals or anything remotely flower-adjacent. Instead, what we come across is a pulsing root structure that's filled with what looks like electrical signals running across the tendrils—electrical signals that flash a bright blue as they travel, leaking color-shifted Firmament.

It's clear even before we get there what we're supposed to do. There's something that looks like a glass orb attached to the base of the flower, with a number of vines and roots coiled protectively around it; within the orb is a source of intense Firmament, strong enough that I can feel it even without stretching my senses from where we are, several floors above it.

"Be careful," Guard says, though the remark isn't needed. Ahkelios and I are both at full alert. I've asked Ahkelios if he wanted to demanifest, save himself from the influence of this aura, but he shook his head insistently and said he could help. I can't say I blame him—I would've done the same.

Though I doubt bringing him into my soul would be enough to protect him, anyway. Something about the Remnant of him here... it's strong. The glimpse of it I caught when I reached out with my senses was enough to tell me that it's not something I'm going to defeat easily, even as I am now. Maybe even with the Knight's help.x

Ahkelios has a powerful link with me, but this Remnant is trying to forge a new one with him. Reaching out through Firmament and Color, touching on the fragment of his soul that's sheltered within my own. I bring to bear all the power I can spare to protect it, coiling Firmament protectively around our link, but that's all I can do—protect what we have. There's nothing within my repertoire I can use to prevent a new link from forming.

I'm not worried about it, in truth. I know I should be. The idea that anyone is messing with Ahkelios—even if it's a Remnant of him—sends a cold tendril of anger through my gut.

But I've changed. I'm a third-layer practitioner, and there's a confidence I have now that I didn't have before. My second phase shift, when I determined who I wanted to be, who I would be...

I will be strong enough to define a future on my own terms. Fear will not define my choices. I will choose kindness and mercy and compassion, weather the risk, and I will win regardless.

I made my choice. And I am not afraid.