NOVEL NEXT B2. Chapter 5: The System Has Trust Issues (And So Do We)
Mo knew well enough that "discreet" was not a word that applied to any aspect of Nyx's existence. However, that day in Between the Lines proved that she wasn't shy anymore to show her powers, either.
It wasn't hard to arrange one of her agents on the American West Coast to help Nyx with an additional boost for their portal. What Mo hadn't considered—what neither of them had considered—was that Nyx would lock onto her exact location rather than somewhere more appropriate, like the alley behind the building or even the bloody flat above where only the builders would be spooked by a sudden appearance.
The portal tore open in the middle of Between the Lines with all the subtlety of a cosmic hiccup, sending every smartphone in the café into a frenzy of notifications as newly awakened magical apps tried to categorize the dimensional breach. The espresso machine began dispensing what appeared to be liquid starlight, and the Wi-Fi router started broadcasting a network called '1NT3RD1M3N510N4L.'
Nyx materialized directly between the poetry section and a table where three customers were attempting to have a civilized discussion about the emerging genres of the post-Integration literature. The dimensional gateway crackled with a wild energy that made every cup in the café rattle against its saucer and caused the espresso machine to emit some unpleasant sounds.
The customers—students with laptops, retirees with mystery novels, and what appeared to be a book club meeting—looked up from their reading with expressions ranging from fascination to barely controlled panic.
Nyx stepped through with theatrical precision, their form configured for maximum dramatic impact: masculine, sharp-featured, wearing what appeared to be a perfectly tailored jacket that probably cost more than most people's mortgage payments. They surveyed the bookstore with the appreciation of someone who'd just arrived at their own premiere.
"Darling," they announced, picking up the books that fell from the shelves, their voice carrying the precise diction of someone who'd learned English from watching too many spy films, "I do hope you're not expecting me to pretend this is normal. The dimensional barriers are absolutely dreadful today—the portal kept trying to redirect me through what appeared to be a convenience store in Newcastle where the coffee machine had achieved sentience and was holding customers hostage until they agreed to rate their experience five stars."
A woman at the nearest table suddenly dropped her cup full of steaming Earl Grey. Mo's power flared instinctively, magically suspending the cup just millimeters above the saucer and guiding it to a stable position with gentle precision. The woman stared at her teacup with the expression of someone whose Tuesday had just taken another impossible turn.
Before Mo could say anything, Lucian's portal opened with considerably more restraint, though "restraint" was relative when discussing interdimensional magical transportation. Ice crystals formed in the air around the opening, and frost spread across the hardwood floor in patterns that looked like winter poetry written in a language that predated human civilization.
The ice demon emerged with his characteristic grace, though Mo could see the tension in his shoulders that suggested his Russian assignment had been even more challenging than expected. His blue eyes scanned the bookstore with much more care than Nyx showed after their sudden appearance.
"Forgive the dramatic entrance," he said. "The dimensional barriers grow thin as winter ice over troubled waters. What should be precise becomes... unpredictable."
Lily appeared at Mo's elbow, and the system message hovering above her head told the whole story: EMOTIONAL STATE: OVERWHELMED flickered briefly before updating to STRESS LEVEL: MAXIMUM and then finally settling on CURRENT MOOD: QUESTIONING LIFE CHOICES.
Mo winced. "The floating text above your head is rather giving away how you're feeling about all this."
"Oh, wonderful," Lily said, glancing upward as if she could see her own status. "So now I can't even have a private emotional breakdown."
"We all are realizing these days that 'manageable chaos' is a contradiction in terms, right?" Mo asked. "But you probably need to find a way to control that." Mo pointed in the direction of messages that continued to flicker.
"Right," Lily said, her voice carrying the carefully controlled tone of someone trying not to have a breakdown in public. The final message finally popped out of existence. "I know this all belongs to you now, Mo, but in the future, could you possibly warn me before opening portals in the middle of my workspace? Mrs. Henderson nearly dropped her Earl Grey, and she's eighty-seven."
Mo felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "You're absolutely right. I'm sorry, Lily. I should have…"
"Asked permission? Considered the impact on others? Remembered that dramatic entrances have consequences beyond looking impressive?" Lily's tone was sharp but not unkind. "Yes, you should have. We, humans, are all adapting to impossible circumstances, but basic courtesy still applies."
The rebuke stung precisely because it was completely justified. Mo had spent two years learning to work alongside Lily as an equal, and now she was making decisions about their shared space without consultation. The fact that she now owned not only the café but the whole building didn't change the fundamental rudeness of her approach.
"You're right," Mo said again, meaning it completely. "I got caught up in the crisis management and forgot about the human impact. It won't happen again."
"Good," Lily said, her expression softening slightly. "Because I've rather gotten used to having you as a colleague who considers other people's feelings, and I'd hate to discover that magical powers turn everyone into inconsiderate arseholes."
Nyx approached, following the exchange with fascination. "How refreshingly direct. In demonic society, that level of accountability would require formal challenges and probably someone getting hexed."
"In demonic society," Mo said, "most people don't have jobs that depend on customer service and basic human decency. Unless they are servants."
"Point taken," Nyx said with theatrical appreciation. "Though I do admire the efficiency of direct communication. Much more practical than the elaborate passive-aggressive dances we typically perform. Do you remember our negotiations with the goblins? That look on Aldric's face when he realized we were truly planning to talk with the servants, not at them?"
Dr. Foster approached with her tablet, clearly eager to resume their investigation. "If we could continue our discussion about the System's expansion patterns? The readings we're getting suggest the situation is deteriorating rapidly."
Mo nodded, gesturing toward the back room where they'd been working earlier. "We should compare notes. But first—Dr. Foster, meet Nyx Obscuris and Lucian Frostbrook, my friends from the Academy and colleagues in trying to figure out this crisis. And Nyx, Lucian, this is Dr. Emily Foster from the Integration Crisis Research Team, and Lily Hartwell, who keeps this place running."
"Charmed," Nyx said with a theatrical bow that somehow managed to be both mocking and genuinely polite. "Though I suspect our definition of 'crisis' may be rather more expansive than yours."
Lucian offered a more restrained nod. "Dr. Foster. Ms. Hartwell. Your research into the System's patterns has been... illuminating."
"Please, just Lily," she said, though her expression suggested she was still processing the fact that interdimensional beings were exchanging pleasantries in her workplace. "And I'll just... mind the counter while you save reality."
"Right then," Mo said, leading the group to the back of the building. "What you're seeing here matches what we've been finding in other locations, but the pattern is... concerning."
They settled once again into the employee break room, the familiar space feeling surreal as it transformed from Mo's old refuge into a command center for interdimensional crisis management. The juxtaposition of her former life and current responsibilities felt like wearing clothes that almost fit but were tailored for someone else.
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"Seattle's hotspots are multiplying exponentially," Nyx reported, spreading photographs across the table with slightly more force than necessary. "And as some humans report, the System has started categorizing me as 'Classification Error' or 'Unsupported Entity Type'." They paused, their tone taking on a sharper edge. "Which is somehow both insulting and technically accurate. But then, it's not new for me to be reduced to an error message."
Mo looked at Nyx with concern, but it was Lucian who replied: "It's not only the error messages that become more sophisticated and sarcastic. I've experienced this throughout Central and Eastern Europe: memorial sites are experiencing what I can only describe as a historically-driven magical awakening. The System is amplifying emotional connections to collective trauma, creating magical abilities based on environmental factors rather than personal aptitude."
Mo felt a forgotten weight in her jacket pocket—the message tube from Grimz that she'd received earlier, but that was pushed from her mind in the rush of crisis management. "Before we go any further, I need to read this," she said, pulling out the tube. "I can't make decisions without knowing what's happening in my own realm."
Breaking the wax seal, her expression grew increasingly grim as she scanned the contents.
"Priority update from Grimz," she said, looking up at Nyx and Lucian. "He mentions some sort of 'magical tingling' some of my goblin staff started experiencing yesterday. Including Grimz himself."
"What kind of tingling?" Valerius asked.
"As he describes it, the kind that reminded him of when he accidentally broke one of the ancient artifacts in Blackthorn Keep's repository years ago—that moment when dormant magic suddenly activates and starts to influence you from outside." Mo's voice carried growing alarm. "Because it's not like goblins can normally manifest magic on their own."
"Aftershocks?" asked Lucian.
"Doesn't look like it. It's evolved into something much more powerful. Some of my goblins are manifesting actual magical abilities. Goblins, who have never had magic in their entire species' history."
Dr. Foster looked up from her tablet with confusion, her scientific training clearly struggling to process information that rendered her entire worldview obsolete. "Wait, there are magical creatures that don't have magic? How does that work? Are we talking about evolutionary adaptation, or…" She stopped, realizing she was trying to apply terrestrial biology to interdimensional species. "Sorry, I'm still learning that Earth science doesn't have frameworks for any of this."
"Darling," Nyx said with theatrical patience, "there aren't magical and non-magical species. There are peoples who can wield magic," Nyx bowed deeply, "and the other ones who can't." Nyx gestured with both hands toward Dr. Foster. "Humans aren't the only species that developed without magical abilities. Goblins and some of their closest relatives evolved as engineers and administrators precisely because they worked with purely mechanical and organizational solutions. Magic was never part of their species' toolkit."
"Until now," Mo added grimly.
"And it's not confined to your realm?" Lucian asked, his ice patterns reflecting his growing concern.
"Not even close." Mo consulted the message again. "The crisis has spread beyond human worlds entirely. But here's the twisted part—the System can't integrate beings who already have magic. Instead, it's manifesting through previously non-magical entities within those realms."
"What do you mean?" Dr. Foster asked.
"Dragons are reporting that their hoarded treasures have developed consciousness and are attempting to categorize draconic wealth into 'efficiency ratings.' The treasures are literally arguing with their owners about optimal resource allocation." Mo's voice carried a note of dark humor. "Apparently, being lectured about proper inventory management by your own gold coins is driving them absolutely mad."
"What else?" Valerius asked.
"Grimz promised to send more information, but it's spotty. Communication between the planes is unstable," Mo glanced at Nyx and Lucian, remembering their recent portal transportation troubles. "It's even worse with the fey courts, it appears. The flowers in their gardens have gained sentience and are critiquing their creators' artistic choices in real-time. Imagine trying to compose a poem while your roses interrupt every line to declare it 'insufficiently whimsical' or attempting to dance while your lilies loudly proclaim that your movements 'lack proper fairy-tale sparkle'."
"I can only imagine the fey's reaction to being called 'fairy-tale beings'. Such a delightfully human way to categorize ancient forces of nature and chaos. "Rather like being called an 'Unsupported Entity Type'," Nyx said, their voice now carrying a particular edge. "Apparently, when people don't understand you, they decide you're the problem. And when you're useful despite being incomprehensible, you become a resource to be managed rather than a person to be heard. How familiar that feels."
"Does it mean that the human influence is coming thought everywhere?" asked Dr. Foster. "Was… was that Julian you mentioned a human?"
"As a matter of fact, he was. He is. If he is still alive," said Mo. "You think that it's some sort of his imprint on the ritual?"
"I don't know," said Emily. "I learned about magic three days ago. But it's an interesting hypothesis to explore."
"Well, whatever this influence is, it seems that our traditional power structures are experiencing what Grimz describes as 'unexpected modification'—magic that worked perfectly fine for millennia is suddenly being reorganized by entities that never had arcane powers or even never existed before." Mo looked up from the parchment, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "Though I have to say, my progressive reforms are looking remarkably well-timed right about now."
"Speaking of reforms," Valerius said, "after this meeting, I need a portal to my father's estate immediately. If reality itself is being restructured, I need to push him to begin implementing the D.E.V.I.O.U.S. framework without any delays or bureaucratic hindrances."
"I'm sure you're quite pleased that you secured that early adopter price per soul from Mo," Nyx said. "I do wish I could convince my father to implement it as well, but the Obscuris family has always been dreadfully traditional about servant class exploitation."
"Perhaps we could focus on the immediate crisis?" Lucian interjected gently, his ice patterns reflecting his concern. "We can discuss progressive labor reforms in the wake of magical revolution after we prevent reality from collapsing entirely."
"So, what does this mean for humans and Earth specifically?" Dr. Foster asked, her scientific mind clearly working through the implications. "If the System is trying to integrate every non-magical species, and it's causing dimensional instabilities..."
"For Earth?" Mo considered the question carefully. "It doesn't seem to mean anything more dramatic than what's already happening. Power structures will shift, new leaders and countries will appear. Gradually, magic will become as natural to humans as it is for succubi or demons. But how it's going to influence worlds where magic already was prominent—that's anyone's guess. It seems that the only thing we can do on Earth now is try gathering more data to figure out the greater patterns."
"That's remarkably pragmatic," Dr. Foster said, then paused. "Actually, would you be open to a more formal collaboration? I mean, you're already working with the UK government through diplomatic channels, but my research team could provide additional support for data collection and analysis."
"I'm not against that," Mo said. "We need all the help we can get."
"Wonderful," Nyx said, the word emanating sarcasm. "How delightfully clinical. Shall we discuss Earth's magical transformation like we're planning urban development? Perhaps we could create a spreadsheet to track dimensional collapse?"
Mo felt the shift in the room's energy as Nyx's tone cut through their discussion, not for the first time since their arrival. The theatrical patience they'd demonstrated earlier was showing more and more cracks, revealing genuine frustration beneath the performance.
"You know what?" Nyx continued, their form sharpening with agitation. "'We need all the help we can get,' I agree with Dr. Foster here. It's so wonderfully pragmatic, Mo. Collecting allies like research data, adding Dr. Foster's team to your growing collection of useful resources. Tell me, do you see the pattern in how you approach relationships? Do you plan to influence her mind without asking as well?"
Emily suddenly looked quite terrified.
"Nyx…" Mo started.
"No, let me finish." Nyx's voice carried an edge that made the air in the room feel electric. "Three days ago, you violated my boundaries and then spent three days avoiding me. It wasn't really on purpose, I know. We all had our tasks and we need to gather information before we can go back to Umbra. But now we are finally together. And you're sitting here making plans for reality while treating me like another useful tool. Do you see the pattern?"
The weight of Nyx's words settled over the room like a heavy blanket. Mo felt her stomach drop as she realized how she'd been so focused on figuring out the Earth crisis that she'd preferred to put the problems with Nyx and Lucian away for now, hoping they would dissolve on their own. Even despite what she'd discussed with Dr. Chen during her therapy session about the importance of addressing relationship issues directly.
"You're right," Mo said quietly. "I'm doing it again, aren't I?"
"Yes, you are, and…" Nyx started, then faltered as they realized Mo wasn't interjecting or defending herself. They blinked, clearly thrown by the lack of pushback.
Mo spread her hands in a gesture of agreement, her expression open and accepting of Nyx's criticism.
"What you're doing," Nyx said, their anger softening into something more vulnerable, "is exactly what everyone in power does. You turn people into problems to be solved instead of individuals to be heard."
The silence stretched with the weight of accountability that couldn't be rushed or minimized.
Dr. Foster cleared her throat diplomatically. "I think I should give you some privacy for this conversation," she said, gathering her tablet. "This feels like something you need to work through as friends, not as a crisis management team."
"Thank you," Mo said as Dr. Foster stepped out of the break room, leaving the four of them alone.
Mo took a shaky breath, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her tablet. "I... before we can save reality, I need to address something I should have dealt with three days ago instead of hoping it would resolve itself."