The framed windows on the dome's exterior curved wall let soft, filtered sunlight into the room. Cyrus had fallen into one of the chairs that let him sit in the warming air. If he was going to endure the cautious—and not so cautious—stares of those seated around the circular table, he was going to do it bathed in natural light. It was a silly protestation, but he had to take what he could—he had nothing else.

  Maija stood near the head of the table. Her arms remained crossed, her expression severe. Matti lounged beside her, twirling and shifting the strange discs of different materials nervously through his hands. Cassandra, her fancy robe primarily hidden by a crimson cloak draped elegantly over her figure, watched him with professional wariness.

  Alor, seated at the other end of the table from Maija, next to Cyrus, cleared his throat dramatically. Maija’s impatient glare grew even more pronounced.

  “Well,” Alor pronounced cheerfully. The tension at the corners of his eyes betrayed him. “Shall we begin? Introductions seem necessary, yes?”

  Maija’s gaze pierced Cyrus. “Starting with him.” She lifted her hand and pointed her index finger menacingly at him. “The stranger who fell from the sky.”

  Cyrus didn’t hesitate to introduce himself.

  “My name is Cyrus, according to Alor. That’s honestly about all I know. Alor found me after the crash.” Cyrus shrugged, then looked flatly at Maija, as if asking if she were happy.

  “Crash?” Maija repeated skeptically. “Crash of what, precisely? There is no wreckage. A vaporized mountain, a massive crater, and chaos.”

  “All that beautiful mithril…” Alor lamented unhelpfully.

  “A Voidship?” Cyrus answered tentatively. The term came easily to him, oddly familiar yet disconnected from his empty memories. “That’s what it was. But now it’s gone. It screamed—”

  Cassandra leaned forward abruptly, cutting him off. “A Voidship? You’re certain it was a Voidship?”

  “Yeah. Is that unusual?” Cyrus answered somewhat cautiously.

  “It’s impossible!” Maija snapped. “Voidships do not crash. They vanish or dissolve, leaving no survivors, evidence, or anything behind. Yet here you stand, claiming exactly that. If what you say is true, then…” she hesitated, her voice faltering briefly, “…then everything we know about Voidships is wrong.”

  Maija glared at Cyrus, unhappy with the way the conversation was proceeding.

  “Either you’re mistaken, or you have become a hazardous complication.”

  Alor leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head with exaggerated casualness. “Precisely! Cyrus stands here, alive, yet the System does not know him. How do you explain such a thing, Maija?”

  Maija’s scowl darkened as she turned her gaze on Alor.

  “Wait,” Matti interjected calmly. The rising tension in the room was no match for his deep, soothing voice—a natural peacemaking tone. “Let’s slow down. Cyrus, you truly have no memories before waking up?”

  “Uhh. Lets see. There was the pilot’s cradle. None of the controls worked? Impact. Sorry, that’s all I’ve got. I didn’t even know my name until Alor said that’s what the System told him. I don’t really understand the System thing,” Cyrus said. He shook his head, and shrugged his shoulders in what-can-you-do gesture.

  Cassandra and Maija exchanged concerned glances, clearly uneasy.

  “You truly don’t recognize the System?” Cassandra asked carefully, her tone edged with disbelief. “You see no interfaces, menus, abilities?”

  Cyrus shook his head helplessly.

  “No, nothing like that at all,” Cyrus confirmed.

  Alor drummed his fingers excitedly on the table, earning glares from both women.

  “See? Impossible! The System arrived here barely a generation ago with classes, skills, and levels—everything! Soon, our integration will be complete, and we will become galactic citizens. Yet Cyrus, he stands apart, like our ancestors who predated the system. How? Why? Truly, a fascinating anomaly.”

  “Fascinating,” Maija echoed so dryly that Cyrus felt parched, “and dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” Cyrus asked. It was a pity she didn’t broadcast her thoughts like Alor did.

  “Dangerous,” Maija repeated firmly, cold and confident. “The System doesn’t tolerate anomalies. If it decides you’re a threat, it won’t hesitate to remove you and everyone you’ve come into contact with.”

  “And,” Alor added cheerfully, “the System is very good at removing problems.”

  “What the hell am I supposed to do, then?” Cyrus demanded.

  “Die?” Maija suggested like it was the most logical and helpful solution to everyone's problems.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Sis—" Mattie scolded.

  Alor, however, had a massive grin on his lips, and his eyes gleamed excitedly. He spoke over the warring siblings.

  “What else, my friend? We find answers. Answers lie in dungeons, yes? And lucky for you, dungeons are my specialty.” Alor preened dramatically when all eyes turned to him, as if this were the type of moment the dwarf lived for.

  “Dungeons?” Cyrus repeated the word skeptically.

  Maija sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers. Cyrus wondered if all the scowling had given her a migraine.

  “This is reckless, Alor. He could be anything,” Maija screamed at the dwarf.

  Awkward silence ruled the table for a few heartbeats.

  “He could also be exactly what we need,” Cassandra interjected. Her calm voice drew surprised looks. “The ruins I came from showed unusual activity. Lyessa is still there scouting. Moving quickly, we could scoop the dungeon before anyone knows it's awakening. But we have to move quickly.”

  Maija gnawed on her lower lip hard enough Cyrus expected to see blood splurt across the table at him.

  Matti laughed at his sister. “Alor’s made up his mind. When has arguing with him ever changed anything? I’m going with. Are you in or not?”

  “Ugh, fine! But Cyrus is your responsibility, Alor.” The platinum-haired woman’s expression softened, but irritation still dominated the looks she shot at Cyrus.

  Alor bowed his head, his smile perhaps a touch mocking. “But of course,” he agreed.

  “Then we depart before things get any worse. And Cyrus?” Maija’s icy blue eyes seemed to look into his soul. “If you endanger any of us, the System will be the least of your concerns.”

  Cyrus nodded. He understood the threat, even if he didn’t understand anything else about his situation.

  Alor leaned closer to Cyrus. “See? You’re practically family already!” Alor whispered conspiratorially—in a voice that could probably be heard outside the dome. Maija stared death glares at Alor, while Matti mouthed ‘why’ at Alor.

  “Comforting,” Cyrus said with a grimace.

  “Excuse me…” Cassandra spoke up.

  Cyrus lifted his gaze to meet the woman’s green eyes. She had stood from her seat and moved next to his chair. This close, he noticed that her fancy robes were a form of cloth armor, far sturdier than they looked at first glance.

  “Yeah?” Cyrus asked. “I mean, what can I do for you?” He shook his head, a little ashamed he’d come off so rude to people who were, it seemed like, helping him.

  Gods, I hope Lyessa’s safe. Every minute we delay puts her at risk. Why must Maija antagonize every newcomer who even looks our way? The last thing we need is another enemy.

  Cassandra studied Cyrus’s eyes closely. Despite the confusion and frustration evident in his expression, something deeper lurked there—something powerful, maybe even dangerous. Like recognizes like. The realization unsettled Cassandra, but she lowered her suspicion and softened her voice.

  “You may not know who or what you are, but you’ve demonstrated power—and we have an immediate need for power,” Cassandra started delicately. “Before Alor’s disappearance, I came from ruins that we’ve been investigating. Lyessa is still scouting, but there have been… developments.”

  “Developments?” Cyrus repeated the word, intrigued.

  “The ruins are pre-System,” Cassandra said flatly. “They’ve awakened—activated—at the same time your Voidship crashed. They resonate with energies Lyessa cannot identify, and it won’t be long before they draw attention we don’t want. Machina scouts were already an issue, worse things are likely to follow.”

  Maija let out an impatient breath. To no one’s surprise, she was displeased. “What Cassandra means to say is that your arrival has caused chaos. Whether intentional or not, you seem to be at the center of it.”

  Cassandra barely suppressed an exasperated look toward Maija, but her irritation was so intense that Cyrus found his right leg anxiously bouncing in commiseration with Cassandra’s emotions.

  Diplomacy, Maija. Would it kill you to try it once in your life?

  Cyrus bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.

  Cassandra arched a brow at his reaction, confused but also curious.

  A man of vast depths.

  If only she knew he struggled to avoid laughing at her judgments of Maija’s defective personality.

  “Perhaps the ruins hold answers, not just about what is happening here and the chaos of your descent, but about who you truly are and why the System cannot—or will not—recognize you. And if it does not, perhaps you can help me get Lyessa out of those ruins safely, and I will owe you for a favor rendered.” Cassandra’s earnest plea, and aggressive eye-contact was too much for Cyrus to ignore.

  Please be okay, Lyessa.

  “Alright, I’m in,” Cyrus agreed.

  “See? Answers, adventure, danger—precisely what we need!” Alor cheered and enthusiastically clapped Cyrus on the shoulder.

  Cassandra relaxed slightly, relief tempered by worry. Alor grinned, practically bouncing in excitement. Maija, arms crossed before her, mouthed, ‘I don’t trust you,’ at Cyrus. Matti gave him a thumbs up.

  “Welcome to the party, Cyrus,” Matti said with an awkward, exaggerated solemnity.

  “To the ruins it is! Onward to adventure!” Alor declared loudly before he charged towards the door of the meeting room.

  Maija moved swiftly, intercepting him. She caught the dwarf by his left earlobe. “Hold it, pinky. I need to heal you before we go anywhere, and Cassandra needs to assess our newest… recruit.”

  “Ow—careful!” Alor protested, wincing theatrically. “Maija, your bedside manner leaves something to be desired—”

  Maija lifted up on Alor’s ear, and the dwarf hopped and squirmed in pain.

  “He nearly died today, sis,” Matti growled softly, irritation flooding his usually pleasant voice. “You could stand to be a little nicer.”

  Maija released Alor’s ear but scowled. “I’m being nice. If I were irate, he wouldn’t still have ears.”

  Gods above, Matti, you have no idea. You didn’t see what I saw. The crater, the devastation—whatever Cyrus is, he’s a walking catastrophe. Alor always does this—bringing home trouble like a lost puppy. But this trouble, it could swallow us all whole.

  Cyrus looked down for the first time when he caught Maija's thoughts. Did her concern for her friends and family justify her coldness to him? She could very well have been right. Without his memories, well, for all he knew, he was a wanted man with powerful enemies.

  “Enough,” Cassandra said. Her voice sounded like the slash of a sword, for some reason. “Let’s get this done quickly; we still have a friend trapped in the ruins.” Cassandra casually pushed Maija and Alor apart.

  Lyessa. Maija grimaced. We don’t have time to waste arguing—especially with a Voidship pilot lurking around. Why is Cassandra even humoring this madness? Love? Love.

  The reminder about their stuck companion, Lyessa, sobered the mood immediately. Before his eyes, the chaos and arguments vanished into a disciplined order, and Maija and Alor left the room to do their part.

  Cyrus blankly looked at the grinning Matti and the sharp-eyed Cassandra, both of whom were motioning him to join them.

  It felt… nice… to be around these strange people. Cyrus felt like he might be part of something, but there was no turning back now.

  Yet, in the back of his mind, Cyrus couldn’t shake the sensation of a vast, impending darkness swallowing all of these new friends. Then he would be alone again. He hated being alone.

  “Come,” Cassandra said. “Let’s find out what you can do.”