Die. Respawn. Repeat.

I don't need the skill to do much. I need it to push Tarin off balance and give me an opening.

This version of my past self is more than enough.

Firmament gathers in a sudden wave, and I see the way the old crow's attention suddenly shifts, confused by the sudden manifestation. I don't waste the opportunity. I charge at him, trying to distract him, to push him into the path of my old self.

It just barely works. He lifts a wing to deflect the swing of my fist, and my knuckles collide with his feathers like they've collided against steel; at the same time, a brilliant blue blazes into existence opposite him, Firmament spinning into solidity. My copy has none of the awareness that I do — it barrels into Tarin like it doesn't see him.

And then something different happens.

I feel a sharp snap, like a temporal thread blurring and cracking. A word comes to mind before the moment even completes, and my copy fades out of existence.

Paradox.

I'm creating temporal clones, of a sort, and it can't sustain itself now that its path has been changed. It's a good limitation to be aware of. The well of power here isn't gone — I can call that same copy out again, make it run into Tarin again — but an echo doesn't last once it's thrown off its metaphorical tracks.

I take advantage of the moment to spin, using one hand as leverage and the other to grab the top of Tarin's wing. In one smooth motion, I toss him onto his back. It takes surprisingly little effort to move him. His bones are light, and without reinforcement...

He hits the ground with a thump, and around us, there is silence.

And then a little crow pipes up. "Woooow," he says. "That was cool! Can you do that again?"

"Pah!" Tarin says. He gets up, dusting himself off; a small puff of Firmament pushes off the dirt on his back he can't quite reach. I flinch a little bit, and he stares at me with a grave look in his eyes. "Crows only lose if opponent cheat," he says, and then he gives me what I'm pretty sure is a smirk. "Good! You learn."

I grin back at him, but internally, my mind is spinning. The level of ability Tarin's displayed here is beyond anything I saw last loop. I separated from the rest of the crows pretty quickly, so it's easy to imagine that there are things that I missed...

...like maybe it's not just enchantments being suppressed. Tarin seems to notice the look on my face, and he gestures for me to follow him. I glance back at the crowd, a warning on the verge of my lips.

But if Tarin says he'll handle it, he'll handle it. If he doesn't... I have one more loop to make things right.

—

"Integrators give you interface, yes?"

I've been expecting Tarin to bring up the upcoming raid. I'm surprised when he brings up my Firmament instead. He's mentioned a couple of times that my Firmament is weak, and this latest iteration he's mentioned that it's unstable; I don't know what either of these things mean, but I do know that if sensing Firmament is something rare, then I've got an advantage other people don't.

"Yes," I answer. He nods.

"Not everyone get Interface," Tarin explains. "Trialgoers get Interface. Few chosen ones, if working for Integrators directly, get Interface. Interface does impossible things with Firmament. Like that." He gestures with a wing to where I'd fought with him outside.

"Normal Firmament just reinforce." He taps his wing again, and this time there's an almost metallic clang

as one wing smacks against the other; the next strike produces the sound of feather-against-feather. "Same as your Durability credits, yes? But basic. High rank skill, pure Firmament cannot copy."

I open my mouth to ask a question, but Tarin holds up a hand, and his expression grows grave. "Interface secrets unknown to us," he says. "Integrators give slowly. Integrate slowly, they say, or planet go pop. We know Credit categories. Is all. Understand?"

"Sure," I say, frowning slightly. My voice sounds strangely hoarse to my ears — scratchier than it should be.

"But," Tarin continues. He stares at me with a piercing sort of gaze. "Still need to condense Firmament, yes? Stronger Firmament, use more Interface skills without tiring."

I think back to the dizziness and throbbing in my head from my overuse of Second Wind; this certainly explains some of that. I still feel a tiny bit of that ache, even now, but strangely it hasn't been exacerbated by my earlier use of Temporal Echo.

"How do I condense Firmament?"

Tarin gives me a look that I can only interpret as speculative. A lot of the energy he's been showing me bleeds away, and now there's something deeper in his gaze — a cunning I haven't seen from him before.

"What is Firmament?"

I blink. "I don't know," I answer. "Some kind of energy. On Earth, we'd probably call it magic."

"Ah," Tarin raises a feather. "But crows have word for magic, too. Why we call Firmament? Why not magic?"

"I don't know." I bite back the frustration in my voice. Time's running out. A quick glance at my interface tells me we have about nine hours left, and that's more time than I thought, but it's still not enough.

"Firmament unnatural." Tarin jabs that feather at me, and I wince, half-expecting it to be solid as iron; instead, a soft feather graces the center of my chest, and he looks at me with a deep gravity in his eyes. "Firmament from Integrators. Soaks into planet, into people, see? Different for each. Different planet, different Firmament."

He's trying to tell me something, I feel like. I furrow my brows slightly, trying to understand.

"You different from crow." Tarin brings my mind back to the conversation. "What you call yourself?"

"Ethan?"

He gives me a withering look. "Species."

"Human," I clarify, embarrassed.

"Human different from crow," Tarin continues. "Crow Firmament condensed by creation. We make things, Firmament get stronger. We progress, Firmament stronger. Human? Don't know. What you need different from what crow need. Understand?"

"Yes." It makes sense to me, but it doesn't help. I can't even sense any Firmament inside myself, for all that my ability to detect it appears to be unusual. "How do I know if my Firmament is getting stronger?"

Tarin takes a moment to consider the question. "You use skill just now," he says, pointing again to the outside of his hut. "You use before? Skill stronger now?"

I remember the way the Firmament blazed into existence. It's a fair bit brighter than the last time I used it, but I don't know what I've done to make it different. "It was stronger," I admit.

Tarin nods. "Planet, species, you," he says, listing each item off on his feathers. "Progression different for each. You and other human? Progress differently. But Firmament has stages. Progress enough, you feel change. When you feel change, you must embrace it. Condense

it. Important. Understand?"

"I don't know what condensing it means," I say.

"Make harder. Make stronger." Tarin frowns. "Bring into alignment. You can choose. Tarin thinks you keep your instability. Is strength. But your choice. Firmament aspects not well known."

"Right." I'll keep that in mind, but none of this seems to be helpful now. I'm itching to leave, to start doing something that will at least give me the credits I need. The spar with Tarin will have helped, but I won't know how many credits it's gained me until I trigger a credit reward.

"Ethan." Tarin's voice stops me in my tracks. Something in his tone is almost... sad. "You see me fight, yes? But harpies still kill me."

What a question to have to answer.

"I... I didn't see you fight the harpies," I say. "Only just now."

But the truth hangs in the air between us — Tarin is capable. More capable than I am. If he died, then there's more to the raid that I don't understand.

"Your Trial is repeating Trial, yes?" Tarin says, his gaze drilling into me. It's still surprising to me how easily he seems to have accepted the nature of my Trial, but then I don't know what he's used to as far as the Integrators go. Maybe this kind of thing is normal for them. "But this urgent. You anxious. Why?"

I grimace. I should have explained this earlier. It slipped my mind — I didn't think I had to explain any more than that there would be a raid on the village. "My Trial is a time loop," I say, a little reluctantly; the words sound ridiculous when said out loud, but Tarin doesn't even flinch. He seems barely surprised at all. "But the Interface says that I only get three chances to stop this raid. If I fail... it says your village will be removed from my map. I don't think it just means my map will stop tracking you."

Tarin's expression darkens, and I realize that I've underestimated him.

His speech is a little strange, but it's just a quirk of the translation, nothing more. Underneath that speech is a sharp intellect. He calls it an honor to be chosen to host a Trial, but given his willingness to train me, and everything he's told me so far...

I think he knows exactly what Integration means for his planet. But he's holding it back. Why?

Are the Integrators actually watching?

The expression is gone in an instant, and he goes back to light and friendly. "Maybe Integrators just punish you! Make map less useful," he says, his voice surprisingly jovial for what I've just seen on his face.

"I think you should consider running," I say quietly, my voice perfectly serious. Tarin shakes his head, slow, almost invisible.

"Against the spirit of the Trial," he says. A quiet anger burns in me — the nature of the raid itself is against the spirit of the Trial. But I don't say anything, because there's a look in his eyes that seems to be telling me not to say anything more. "We fight! But... stay close, yes? Then you know why we fail. Then you can tell me."

"If we don't win this time."

"If," Tarin agrees, but he seems convinced that we won't. "You tell me how Mari and I met next time, yes? Then we get started fast."

"How did you meet?" I blink. Tarin grins at me.

"She threw rock at my head." He shows me a patch on his head where his feathers are just entirely missing, but he seems startlingly proud of it. "Was very good courting rock."

I do not know how to respond to this, and Tarin seems to enjoy my discomfort. He grabs me by the hand, tugging me along. "Come!" he says. "Need to train you a bit more, yes? Sparring help? We get everyone ready. And hide children! Must find good places."

I remember the crate, the way the harpy kicked it up into the air. I wince. "Not the crates," I say. "Somewhere they can still escape and run if they're found. And with each other."

I don't know if that would actually help. Maybe a quick death is better, but I can't imagine that's how I would want to die, in the dark and alone.

Tarin seems to sense what I'm thinking, because he gives me a firm nod. "We have place," he says. "We keep some guardian crows with them, yes?"

I don't know if that's enough, but I nod anyway.

It will have to be.