“Calm yourself, witch, while I introduce myself to the young Montcroix-Wythe.” Albus waved Oniihino off with a casual flick of his wrist. Chronifer caught the sharp clench of her jaw.

  “I think it might be better to answer her first,” Chronifer suggested, not particularly eager to experience whatever had happened to him and Nyte again.

  Albus let out a bemused chuckle, his thin, pale lips curling into a smirk. “Why not, Chronifer, why not?” He inclined his head slightly before turning his full attention to Oniihino. “And what might your question be, witch?”

  There was an unmistakable edge in the way he said witch, one that made Chronifer recall how Oniihino had called him butler.

  Oniihino exhaled sharply, her anger seeming to fade, replaced by cold calculation. “Are you here on behalf of Fashina?” Her voice was measured, cautious.

  Albus tilted his head as though considering the weight of the question. “You see, that is a matter of perspective. I am, and I am not. The latter is more prudent, as I am here, in this carriage, at this moment, on my own behalf.” His gaze flicked between Oniihino and Chronifer, his smile never faltering.

  Chronifer’s head spun. Even though he understood what Albus was saying, it felt like a mental test he was somehow failing.

  Oniihino, however, seemed to grasp his meaning. “Then what do you bring concerning Fashina?”

  Albus placed a hand over his heart and bowed—not deeply, but just enough. “Ah, now that, I unfortunately cannot say. I assure you, however, that it will not affect him in any manner his dear parents wish to avoid.”

  Oniihino seemed satisfied by that answer, or at least uninterested in pushing further. A yawn slipped past her lips, muffled behind a raised hand.

  “Poor Oniihino,” Albus mused, shaking his head. “You’ve been away from slaughter too long, haven’t you? Lucky for you, this is your last day here.”

  Chronifer frowned at the statement. The picture forming in his mind was an unsettling one. He had known Oniihino was dangerous, but away from slaughter too long? What kind of people had he surrounded himself with? But he already knew the answer—a faction of mercenaries who fought not just for pay, but for their own whims.

  Before Oniihino could respond, Albus waved her off once more.

  Chronifer took note of that fact, she seemed loath to speak after his dismissal, He couldn't help but wonder who this Albus was.

  “I am Albus Shau-rak. Voice of Reason, Keeper of the Underworld, and butler of the Montcriox-wythe.” He let the titles linger before flashing a knowing grin. “And I would like to escort you to the Cable Strider.”

  Chronifer barely registered the offer. Cable Strider? Did everyone here just get assigned cool-sounding titles and names?

  During their journey, Albus had taken the time to explain his role in the Montcroix-Wythe domain. As the Voice of Reason, he was tasked with keeping the leadership bound to the rule and ensuring the rules remained just for the people. The title of Keeper of the Underworld was one he refused to elaborate on, only saying that he "wasn't able to share." And as for the butler title, that was the only one he had explained with a tone that suggested he wished he could ignore it altogether.

  Albus had also detailed what the Cable Strider was, a feat of engineering, a transport like no other. And now, standing on the vast platform, Chronifer could only gape in wonder.

  Less than an hour later, their journey took them deep into the sprawling underground of Onyx Thorn, a city carved beneath the surface. Shadowed alleys, flickering lanterns, and buildings of dark stone blurred past their carriage as they wound their way through narrow streets. Then, just as suddenly, they ascended—not just to the surface, but beyond it.

  Higher and higher they climbed, piercing through frozen clouds. The air thinned, crisp and biting against Chronifer’s skin, but the chill barely registered as they rode onto a vast platform.

  Then he saw it.

  A single, massive cable of obsidian metal stretched across the horizon. Its sheer scale defied logic, an endless line vanishing into the infinite void above. At irregular intervals, small bursts of light zipped along its length, shooting upwards and downwards at impossible speeds.

  Cable Striders.

  Albus had explained it during their ride—how the Cable Strider was a feat of engineering, a transport system unlike any other. But only now, before it, did Chronifer truly grasp its enormity.

  As their carriage came to a stop in a designated slot, Chronifer remained transfixed. The sight of the cable filled him with something unnamable—an anticipation, an excitement, a thrill for adventure.

  Across the wide distance between them and the enormous cable, Semy came to a stop in a parking slot and so did the other carriages.

  Chronifer still entranced by the cable, occasionally caught glimpses of what he guessed where cable striders. Occasionally a zip of light was sent spinning across the cable up wards and downwards.

  “So, Chronifer, Oniihino,” Albus said smoothly, “you wouldn’t mind me as your escort, would you?”

  Neither of them had given him a proper answer during the ride. Chronifer barely cared—he just wanted to see the Cable Striders up close, to know where it led.

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  “Does it really matter who escorts me?” he asked, his voice carrying a sigh. He knew the politics in the clan ran deep, but at this moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

  Oniihino adjusted the layered folds of her dress before responding. “Between me and Albus? No. Albus is the voice of reason. He is the law. I am your aunt—we’re family. It doesn’t matter who you go with.”

  “Then why not?” Chronifer said, moving to jump off the carriage.

  Before he could, Albus placed a firm yet strangely gentle hand on his shoulder. “No, Chronifer, if you don’t mind—” He gestured toward Oniihino. “Say your goodbyes.”

  Chronifer turned. “See you in a bit, Auntie.”

  "I'll see you when the time comes, now, I need to address the kin's."

  Albus chuckled. “A bit, he says.”

  Oniihino smiled faintly, but before Chronifer could fully process it, the world shifted.

  When the distortion of space settled, Chronifer found himself before a massive structure. It resembled a wheel—only instead of spokes, it was designed like an artistic hotel.

  A man in a crisp silver uniform rushed toward them. “Honored Albus, what brings you here?”

  “Escorting the little lord,” Albus replied casually.

  The man barely spared Chronifer a glance before his expression shifted into immediate recognition. “Young lord, it is truly an honor.” Mid-bow, he seemed to catch himself, hesitating—unsure whether to complete the bow or snap upright.

  “The Strider is taking off soon—we must hurry.”

  “Meet the lady at the front. She’ll give you a room number,” the man called after them as they hurried inside.

  Chronifer couldn’t help but grin. He had met so many new people in such a short time. He had missed this.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he shouted back.

  Once inside, Chronifer took a deep breath, steadying himself. Albus was watching him, smiling with that same unreadable amusement.

  “So young, yet so fit. Truly something.” His eyes gleamed with curiosity. “I wonder… have you reached your body’s limit yet?”

  Chronifer hesitated, recalling the lingering sensation from the tree within. “I don’t actually know.”

  Albus hummed in thought. “Ah, that’s answer enough. When you reach your Rank Zero limit, you just know.” He swung out a pocket watch, checking the time. “And from then on, only ascension increases your strengths. But be warned—neglect training, and your body will degrade.”

  Chronifer absorbed the words. So I always need to keep training. He clenched his fists slightly. Fine. I’ll just keep going.

  At the reception desk, a woman barely looked up as she read: “Strider 009 is currently locked down…”

  “I'm really sorry, young lady…”

  “Young lady. I'm sorry sir but I'm probably older than you.” The girl said.

  Chronifer looked at Albus and for some reason he had just known it when he first saw the man he wasn't what he seemed. I thought people here would be more informed.

  The man looked at him and mouthed, ‘Immigrant.’

  It was clear that people in the multiverse aged slower, if ever, so it was a mistake to ever assume someone's age.

  “My bad. I'm truly sorry.” After a slight pause he added. “Am I forgiven?” Albus said with a truly gentle smile, that spoke to the fact that he knew of his mistake.

  The girl blushed, brushing aside a strand of hair.

  “Sure thing, handsome.” Chronifer watched on, not sure what he was experiencing.

  “I'm here escorting Chronifer, young lord of the Montcriox-wythe Clan.” For the first time the girl's eyes seemed to look down at him and they widened and then they flickered back to Albus and not his youthful face but his ensemble.

  “I'm sorry Si…Sir Shau-rak.” She seems to remember Chronifer, before she could bow he stopped her.

  The pains of being born rich and royal. He found himself striking poses within his mind with that statement.

  “It remains our fault for coming unannounced. I hope you can just do us a little favour and help us with a room?” Chronifer asked his three and nine foot height not even reaching the top of the counter.

  “Certainly, thank you so much. Young lord.” And with that Chronifer had become the essence of a good young lord. He pulsed with pride and caught Albus shaking his head indulgently like a grandfather.

  “Your rooms will be: Room zero, zero, zero and room X, X three. Here are your keys.” She said, handing out the keys to Albus.

  Then Albus led him down a long hallway, and the voice that had been the background noise intensified.

  “Why had you come here anyways? Sir Albus.” He asked.

  “Oh please just call me Albus.” He said with a pleased smile.

  “Nothing much, can you keep this secret, it is something most do not know.” Albus said his voice and exaggerated whispers.

  “I give you my word.” Chronifer nodded solemnly. This place although everyone is mad one way or the other up stairs they seem to have some of the best people. Chronifer thought.

  “Well, I'm here to see my grandson. Lorn.” Chronifer tripped, Albus caught in by his shoulder.

  Although the man had given off a grandfatherly air, Chronifer was shocked to discover that he was indeed a grandfather.

  “Oh, do you think I'm handsome too.” Albus said with a laugh and then he opened the door to the lounge and found a huge back blocking it.

  “Can you please…” he was cut off by a deep voice.

  “Shut up, can't you see I'm trying to listen to something?” The voice came from the figure, beyond him what seemed like a quarrel seemed to be taking place.

  “Just…”

  “Shut up, bitch. Things are…” Albus taped a single point at the boy's back and like a puppet with his strings cut he fainted.

  “ Common, Chronifer.” Albus guided, the people gathered around the big young man watching them with wary eyes.

  Chronifer followed feeling like had just jinxed himself with his earlier thought's.

  They walked through the crowd to find a set of teens looking very much on the end of their temper and right there in the middle of the standoff was a familiar Ashen boy. Nyte.