Benjamin Yang had just returned home from his shift washing the dishes at the Lilyville Bar in Bastion. Dishwashers were a dying breed in the ghouldark future, but when you had a purveyor that was particularly concerned about their chinaware, opportunities presented themselves to those with gentle hands.

  Ben stared down at the phone that buzzed intermittently in his gentle hands, which dismissed the notification as it came through.

  Ever since he had the encounter in the VR Chatroom with Evantra and Noelle, he had been reluctant to reply. Noelle, on the other hand, was relentless in her efforts to reach out and to apologise.

  The hints of a smile played across Benjamin’s lips.

  “This must be what it was like, my beloved Elders, when I troubled you for your guidance. I finally understand what it feels like to be bugged by a pain in the buttocks… Amitabha. Nonetheless, a kind one, with a good heart.”

  Benjamin chuckled fondly as he thought about the sincere girl who had approached him with a passion for learning about technology.

  His mind returned to the scenes he had glimpsed of Wisptown. The town situated on the very border of the ruins of Los Angeles. Known for its sweeping junkyards and the industry that they created, scavenging parts for second-hand use. Huge swathes of the town collapsed, in flames. With its destruction, it was likely that obtaining components for his projects would become noticeably more challenging.

  Then, of course, there was the loss of life, like Benjamin had glimpsed once before.

  The official story was that it had been an earthquake. Localised tremors, which, in conjunction with the caverns underneath the town, had wrought incredible destruction across the outer suburbs, claiming countless of lives. Through the efforts of fast responders, much of Wisptown’s population that resided in the inner suburbs had been saved.

  “The last that I recall, earthquakes are not capable of grounding mining barges capable of sailing the stars. There are tragedies abound, where corporations stride,” Ben whispered, sitting down on a flea-bitten couch, in a small dark room.

  “They will take, and take, until there is nothing left but blood and ashes.”

  Benjamin crouched down, removing one of the floorboards of his apartment, extracting an item from within.

  “I yearn for your guidance, elders. I am adrift, in an unfamiliar land where kindness is a commodity that I so took for granted in your presence. The responsibility weighs on me. I hope… you are at peace.”

  His eyes alighted on his phone, as yet another notification lit up the surface of its screen, and his eyes crinkled in the slightest smile.

  “Although perhaps… it is time for me to take a chance on a pain in the buttocks as you did with me.”

  Benjamin chuckled under his breath.

  “After all… buttocks are meant to stick together, Amitabha.”

  Benjamin turned over the item in his hands.

  A shifting cube.

  Comprised of innumerable smaller cubes which rippled in gentle waves, wherever his fingers came into contact with it. The fingers of his robotic arm tightened around the cube, before he gradually relinquished his grip with a slow sigh.

  Benjamin picked up the phone.

  ***

  “Lord Hades. In exchange for the payment, Santa Muerte has apprised us of Caliburn’s purpose in Wisptown.”

  “Please continue, Raphael.”

  His attendant bowed towards him, a grizzled man with a full, white beard and head of hair. A silver fox, one might even say. It was ironic then that he, the CEO of Elysium Industries which made life their business, was bald and gaunt. Hindered by the constraints of mortality, which were etched plainly on his features.

  “They attempted a ritual summoning to Avalon, my lord. Likely to bind a revenant upon discovering a potent artefact. Santa Muerte received an anonymous tip-off as to Caliburn’s activities and promptly interceded, deploying their Archdemon.”

  Hades gave his attendant a warm smile, signifying his agreement with his assessment.

  “It seems as if they failed to regale the requisite number of souls to bind the revenant, my lord. An assessment of Wisptown and its surrounds shows that large portions of the city remained relatively unscathed.”

  “Those responsible?”

  “Elaine Hallewell, likely. Arthur’s Niece. Clark was also present.”

  Hades let out a slow breath, closing his eyes, as his lips drew into a tight line.

  “There is no such thing as a good man in our line of work, Ralph. But there are those that come close. Clark Hallewell was one such soul. It is a great loss that his uncle will no doubt dismiss in his fervent ambition. It must have been Elaine’s doing; she has always been ambitious, and ambition has always driven man to dangerous lengths.”

  "Why involve him at all if he was such a good man? He would have been a risk to her endeavours if he was truly as magnanimous as you say."

  Hades smiled, rising from his chair. He took the robe gifted to him by the matriarch of the Tsukuyomi family. It was similar to her own, cast entirely in black fabric which seemed to shimmer with subtle starlight.

  A beautiful gift of gratitude for the years he had restored to her.

  "Even sincerity can be a weapon in the right hands. His absence would have betrayed a plot to their onlookers. His presence, a means to endear those who would have otherwise had cause for suspicion. I have no doubt that Elaine used Clark for her own ends to the very end."

  He made his way down the steps at a slow, steady pace. His office was situated in the heights of Elysium’s tower in Elsecaller City. It was adorned with allusions to the afterlife – with dark, waterfalls of black liquid that fell from fountains, down past multiple floors into catchments below. Rivers that carved throughout the interior of the structure, with antique lanterns lighting their dark surfaces.

  Facsimiles of the river Styx.

  The heights of Elysium’s towers were fashioned with fields of grass and bright sunlight, courtesy of landscapers from Demeteria Agricorporation. Signifying transcendence and life eternal, in the Elysian fields.

  Hades cast his gaze into Elsecaller City below from beyond a vast plane of glass that comprised the exterior of their tower and his office. At the other towers that bordered Elysium’s own, at the multitude of streets, shops and districts amalgamated in a dense sprawl across the City’s depths.

  He made his way into the depths below, halting before a room guarded by two Ghostslayers.

  He smiled at them and walked into the room.

  A ritual sprawled outwards at his feet, intricate in its design. Curving in on itself in ways that stretched the mind to comprehend.

  Hades activated his optical cybernetics.

  The ritual began to glow.

  “Today, we welcome a new player to our board, Raphael. For there is little doubt that Arthur Hallewell and his Church of the Pryderi won’t forgo another opportunity to bind one of Avalon’s champions to their will. It is only a matter of time.”

  The air began to rend itself apart before his very eyes,

  “So young, and eager to traverse the unknowns. It is a temptation that I am no stranger to,” his lips curled into a soft smile. “But so often do people lose perspective in their youth.”

  The Mythic Veilsurge burst into existence at the centre of the ritual. With the eyes that had been gifted to him, Hades peered through the Veil.

  A city of glass and concrete awaited him on the other side. With creatures from myth that walked its streets, possessed of their faculties. What humanity had assumed to be thoughtless beasts, that chased after human souls with fervour.

  A city of the future, to match Elsecaller, in the heart of the mists of Avalon.

  The Veilsurge flickered as a figure strode through.

  “Lady Valstra. It is good to see you safe.”

  The woman greeted him with a brisk nod, removing the opaque helmet on her head. The fairy had dark blue skin and beautiful eyes of midnight blue that shone in the white glow of the ritual. Refined lips and a bearing that betrayed her status as royalty.

  “Do not forget that we are not your servants.”

  Raphael bowed his head in apology.

  “I only wished to avert a disaster. To have Galahad bound to Caliburn, and turned against you, would be a tragedy I would wish to avert.”

  The fairy glowered at him before relenting.

  “Our efforts to divert Caliburn were unsuccessful. Our relic, stolen from beneath our noses. We have searched the ruins, and have been unable to source the remains of Galahad’s blade,” the fairy’s voice fell. For all of her hostility, her sadness at the loss was easy to read, endearingly so.

  “Then we will continue in our search, in defence of your home.”

  “In exchange for the grail,” Valstra gritted out.

  Hades evenly met her ire.

  “Its discovery will benefit us all. We will both need it. To evolve, if we are to prevail against the horrors of our worlds. The greatest warriors of both of our realms are still left wanting in the face of Avalon’s depths… as powerful as they are. The Veil weakens. New worlds, new horrors arrive onto the shores of our realities. Would you not agree, my lady?”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Valstra simmered at his words, before giving him another brisk nod. He bowed to the fairy as she retreated back into the portal, which faded, along with the city of Camelot – Avalon’s final refuge.

  Hades watched Raphael’s eyes linger on his back as he straightened from his deep bow.

  Appearances mattered in the corporate dystopia that was his reality. The appearance of weakness was paid for in droves. Where the other tyrants of his station clung desperately to their pride, Hades relinquished his willingly.

  Yet, there he was.

  A gaunt, weak man, at the helm of the beast that was Elysium. The megacorporation that others deferred to for what they offered. For what they sought to offer.

  Hades, all of 200 years of age, was a man of humility.

  For time was his greatest teacher.

  ***

  “I so do enjoy the rain.”

  Ectorain dripped from his fingers to stain the floor below as he entered the dark room. His cybernetics glowed faintly in the dark, and he halted before the solitary desk in the humble office.

  He came to a halt and greeted her with the smile of a demon. His eyes rose to meet her own.

  She was beautiful.

  Not a line of age creased her face. Unadorned by Elysium’s Immortality treatment – humanity’s imperfect solution to the inevitable advent of age. Neither were her soft features the work of a skinsculptor, though many would leap at the chance to profess her as their work.

  A dim, red light illuminated their surroundings. A nightlight. The thing of an innocent child. It illuminated the shadows cast by a black cat as it strolled across the immaculate, organic mahogany desk, melting into the shadows.

  “Report.”

  Her words were crisp and curt, and he couldn’t help but respond with a smile. He placed the device on the tabletop for his upcoming presentation.

  “In their negligence, the PIU failed to promptly report a crucial discovery. A certain laboratory in London.”

  His smile only widened as he saw the woman before him freeze momentarily, eyes darting to lock on to his. It was enough to make any human hesitate and peer into their depths. To become utterly infatuated with everything about her.

  To lose themselves.

  He simply smiled, drawing deep pleasure instead from the way in which she curled her fist inwards, her fingernails digging into herself.

  He watched as the black cat halted in its passage and turned to regard him.

  He watched as its maw opened.

  A yawning pit of darkness that continued until it fell to the surface of the table. An abyss that promised an end to his existence, an erasure of all of his actions forthwith, those significant and those not.

  “Please, indulge if you choose to do so. This one has two children, twelve and fourteen. Raised exceptionally well by parents who deeply invest in their values. A wife who endures his unpredictable work hours and his inability to discuss the issues that come up at his work. He honours his non-disclosure agreement quite admirably, I must say.”

  He took a step towards the abyss, his eyes locked on to hers.

  Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as the cat closed its maw and resumed its pacing. In response, he raised his hands in surrender.

  “I’ve had my fun. The laboratory. Alfiera’s body was not found. Neither did any traces of artefacts remain. The basement level had caved in when they found it, and irrespective of the fact that they were warned of the location’s significance, they failed to undertake the appropriate tests to ascertain the cause of the cave-in or to more thoroughly search the area.”

  He leaned forwards, watching as her first unclenched itself, and as her shoulders shrank imperceptibly.

  “I have told you, time and time again, that it is time to move away from the past. It was likely the work of Veilcreatures—”

  Pale, red lips parted as she spoke.

  “The location of the Veilsurge. And the residents.”

  With a brief flash of his cybernetics, the images of three individuals were displayed for her viewing pleasure. A young Caucasian woman with curly black hair and blue eyes. A Hispanic woman with dark, frizzy blonde hair and a son who matched her blonde.

  “Tiffany Bourdeaux, Maria Santiago and her son, Samuel Santiago. All residents of Wisptown whose bodies were retrieved in the aftermath of the Wisptown incident. Courtesy of Seraphim.”

  He watched as her eyes narrowed.

  “Did the PIU corroborate the identities?”

  “The witnesses assured me that they have. Though you would be an idiot to believe their accounts, especially seeing as protocol was already broken, given the location’s significance.”

  His lips curled upwards.

  There was no reason for her to dwell on small discrepancies.

  PIU officers reporting a girl with straight black hair and the pale white gaze of the Wraithmarked, emerging with bloody holes in her clothes but otherwise unscathed - a curious paradox. Questioned by the Seraphim Ghostslayer, who had so kindly taken the initiative. When he had taken the opportunity to discreetly follow up, said operative had informed him that the eyewitness accounts were incorrect, and that she had taken the initiative to administer a stim to heal her injuries.

  But identities could not be so easily erased. Threads remained, so long as you took the initiative to look for them.

  Evantra Wraithmarked.

  I look forward to meeting you.

  He watched as the woman shifted, and he struck.

  “How long will you remain in the past?”

  The woman froze, and he saw a vitriol swell behind her beautiful eyes.

  “Every moment that you spend dwelling on the pointless, more of them dig deeper holes, evading our notice. They preserve their youth and endure. Waiting. It is ironic that you, of all people, fail to understand the significance of your current fixation.”

  He leaned forwards, heedless of the cat that watched him unflinchingly.

  “Corpos can be controlled, but they cannot. Well, for the most part.”

  He smiled.

  “You understand.”

  His cybernetics flashed, and the engines of his PIU aerial vehicle activating could be heard from within the room. The high-pitched whine of engines warming up, and the rush of hot air which sent the white curtains swaying.

  The grass adorning the hills around the residence swayed outwards in gentle waves. Black torii gates lined the path to the building, lit by lanterns which swayed gently in the wind called forth in Elsecaller’s heart. Each was lit by bare flame and upkept by its guards. They wore wide-brimmed hats and dressed in black robes, paired with humble black masks that hid their features.

  The man halted in his passage.

  “How rude of me. You have my heartfelt congratulations on your new appointment.”

  He turned to incline his head in a bow.

  “Headmistress of the Ghostslayer Academy.”

  ***

  “This is the spot.”

  Noelle and Evantra stared down at the Nezha drone that Noelle had painstakingly put back together.

  Now fallen to pieces, after its maiden flight.

  The trove seeker catalyst was nowhere to be found.

  “Fucking lichdicks. Someone or something must have picked it up. We’re going to have to spend ages combing these bloody greenhouses—”

  “It’s nice to see you back to your usual self,” Evantra smirked, inviting a frown from Noelle. “For the longest time, you felt almost like a totally different person from back when I first met you in Archaic Adventures.”

  Noelle snorted.

  “You had your chance to hold my guilt over my head, and seeing as you’ve forgiven me—”

  “Have I?”

  Seeing the utter terror her words induced in Noelle’s eyes, Evantra chuckled, waving off her words.

  “I just wish… that you had a chance to meet Mills. I think the two of you would have gotten along well.”

  Noelle placed her hands on her hips.

  “Are you kidding? Do you know how cathartic it would be to rant about how frustrating it is to have a sort-of acquaintance like you.”

  “Hey now, I was Millie’s best friend—”

  “She was yours, but were you hers?”

  Evantra paused, brows furrowing at the cruel seed of an idea that Noelle Laurent had ruthlessly planted in her mind. She watched Noelle unholster the pistol at her side, casually raising it at the giant aphid that was hurtling at them before pulling the trigger. Evantra watched as the insect the size of a shopping cart veered off, colliding into the tall stalks of the plants in the continental greenhouse they were situated in.

  “You’ve… certainly been practising.”

  Evantra watched a shadow flicker over Noelle’s face as her eyes alighted on the weapon.

  Noelle gave her a shaky smile before turning to head back to Carmen’s car parked by the side of the road that they had loaned.

  She’s overcompensating.

  Of course she is.

  I should talk to Carmen about just what happened back at the blockade.

  “Hey, Noelle?”

  The girl hesitantly turned back towards her.

  “You go on ahead. I’ll walk back to town. It isn’t far off. And a couple of giant bugs or walking, man-eating plants won’t be enough to put me down. Preachers get claws, remember?”

  The girl stared at her briefly before nodding, and Evantra watched as she drove off back towards Bastion. They had just secured their new apartment, and it was going to be a tight fit with Carmen, Lucas, Amy, and Tai all sharing it.

  Carmen had made it clear that they were there to stay. Evantra wouldn’t have had it any other way.

  Evantra strode alone between the towering crops that loomed over her, running her fingers idly through the leaves as she walked onwards. Her eyes lingered on the crops around her, picking out flowers that bloomed at rare intervals, the sweeping canopy of the continental greenhouse far above her, usurping the place of the sky.

  Cypha was wrong. I’m no hero

  Trevor warned me of the bombs.

  Guinevere and Clark helped me escape.

  Cypha and Juno bought people the time to leave.

  Minh protected them, organising and ushering everyone out of the town.

  All I did was make a few phone calls which condemned Minh to his death, depriving Tai of a father.

  They are the true heroes.

  Evantra’s face fell, and she let out a small sigh at the thought of her mentor from Caliburn. The ruthless Ghostslayer who had supported Elaine’s machinations, who had slain Millie, but had found room for mercy.

  Mercy only for her, it seemed.

  Evantra clenched her fist tightly, letting out a slow, deep breath.

  There was one final thing left unaccounted for.

  “I noticed you watching me in the Sahara. At first, I thought I imagined it, but it seemed like Lancelot caught on to your presence somehow.”

  Evantra walked slowly through the towering stalks of the plants around her, coming to a halt.

  She turned around to face it.

  Its featureless, pale, white face hovered an inch away from her own. Lean muscles bulged from within taught, white skin stretched over proportions that deviated slightly from the human form. Arms that drooped past its hips, sharpened into dark, black claws at the end of its limbs.

  Evantra felt familiar feelings resurface, albeit to a lesser degree. The burgeoning of existential horror within her, that the mere sight of a wraith provoked. The urge to run, to flee, that had overtaken her all those days ago, back in an abandoned laboratory in London. Back in a mother’s home in Wisptown. Her gaze fell down on pale white hands, one of which she had no doubt, had found her way through her abdomen, flinging her into the midst of the ritual.

  The wraith stared back at her in silence.

  This time, she took a step towards it.

  With still hands.

  “I can feel it. Your hunger. Can I ask you for a favour?”

  The ghost stared back at her in silence, unmoving. Its featureless head angled towards her own.

  “Temperance… A baker once told me that there are Ghostslayers out there that find happiness. Those that don’t wildly throw themselves at the Veil and to their death, at every chance they get. As if being a Ghostslayer and finding true happiness are mutually exclusive.”

  “I want to live a good, full life with my family. Enough to make Millie curse at me in envy. One that would make sweat break out across Trevor’s forehead just at the slightest glimpse of how awe-inspiring it is.”

  Evantra halted in front of the wraith, as the slightest hint of a smile brought by her words faded.

  “I want to help Carmen set up that bar in Elsecaller, giving people a reprieve from the horrors. I want to see Lucas grow up to become as strong and kind as his mother. To ensure that Tai has the life she deserves. To make up for what I stole from her, if such a thing is even possible. To ensure that Amy finds happiness. To learn to forgive, and to become a truer friend to Noelle.”

  “I want to live a happy, fulfilling life. Like they would have wanted for me.”

  Evantra watched as the wraith tilted its head.

  “But don’t you worry. I don’t think I’d be very good at ‘temperance’. At moderation. A happy life to me involves gorging myself on as many artefacts as I can find. On as many Veilsouls as I can get my hands on. I’ll make sure that I fatten myself right up when it comes time for you to feast on my soul.”

  “I want both. I’m greedy like that. The happiness, and the power to change things.”

  Evantra paused, her expression twisting, her words laced with her frustration.

  “Agency.”

  “I don’t want anyone to die for me again,” Evantra whispered, as her body shook.

  Not with fear, but with anger.

  Anger, at how the ugly feeling of helplessness never ceased to twist and writhe within her heart. The same feeling instilled during that fateful day, two years ago, when the two people she loved most in the world, for all their flaws, had died for her. What the sight of the wraith standing before her continued to evoke, in the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind, no matter how much she tried to run from it.

  To fight it.

  “Do we have a deal?”

  The ghost stared silently in her direction.

  Before her very eyes, the wraith standing before her disappeared, fading out of existence like a fleeting dream. For a moment, Evantra stood unmoving. Listening to the shifting of the foliage around her as the breeze found its way into the continental greenhouse.

  The hunger.

  It had been within her awareness from the moment she had consumed Nimue’s Rose. Evantra suspected that it had always been with her, from the moment she had awakened as a magical girl, just barely out of her notice, much like her companion.

  But beneath it rose another emotion.

  It burgeoned with the arrival of a single word. It seemed to echo throughout her very being, whispered by formless lips. One which recontextualised the whispers that had instilled terror in her when she had first heard them in the dark bowels of a silent, abandoned laboratory.

  The feeling that suffused her was not hunger, or wrath.

  Not rage or bloodlust.

  It was—

  “HELP.”

  I wanted to say a few words about my writing journey (to those that are interested) and make some announcements while I had the chance!

  Ghostslayer on Amazon! I'll make a subsequent announcement with the cover and further information down the track to keep you guys in the loop if you would like to support the series.

  Fearshaper and Ghostslayer this year, I've had a hell of a lot of fun going from avid reader to a writer who still doesn't know what the hell they're doing with this writing thing.

  Fearshaper (stubbed) if you would like to read more of my writing in the meantime!