The Shattered Crowns

Lancelot leaned back in his chair, his golden eyes calm but piercing. "Czenth, Selene. Since everyone else has eagerly shared their thoughts, let's hear yours as well."

A light, lilting voice cut through the room. "What positions would they fill? We already have a Sorcerer, an Augur, a Transmuter, and a Contractor." The voice belonged to a blonde-haired woman who swirled a small vial in her palm, its shimmering contents catching the faint light. "I'm all for new recruits, but why these two? What makes them so special?"

She let the liquid in the vial settle and added with a teasing smirk, "I mean, we've got an Alchemist already. All we're missing is a Transistor, and frankly, neither of them looks suited for the role. Makes you wonder about their actual merit."

Selene tilted her head, her tone turning darkly playful. "Of course, I could always use someone to test the more… volatile mixes. My latest 'sharpening of skin' potion works for a few minutes—though I wouldn't recommend it unless you have a death wish."

"That would be a death sentence," interjected a metallic, hollow voice.

The source of the voice was Czenth. His body, cloaked in white, was more machine than man. Dark metal encased his form, a glass visor shielding his face. Four slender tubes extended from his head—where hair should have been—and coiled into the cloak below. The tendrils swayed faintly, almost like living strands, clicking softly as they moved.

"Oh, hush, Czenth," Selene quipped, a mischievous glint in her eye. "The last serum I gave you fixed your little Atta problem, didn't it?"

Czenth ignored her barb, his voice steady and cold. "That serum was derived from Cordian research." The word Cordian practically hissed with disdain. "It was tested. We were in no danger."

He turned his masked face toward Lock. "The quiet one leaning against the column—he's seen combat. His stance suggests a trained killer. The way his eyes sweep the room implies he's familiar with tension, perhaps even thrives in it. I'd wager he's skilled, by Publici standards."

Czenth then shifted his attention to Mirak, his gaze sharp even through the glass covering his face. "The other one, though… Subpar. The loss of his hand will hinder him in heists. His posture—slightly hunched—speaks of a lack of confidence. And—"

"That's enough, Czenth." Lancelot's voice cut cleanly through the air, carrying an effortless authority. His cheek rested on his knuckles, but there was no mistaking the steel behind his words. "You all seem to see nothing but flaws in these two. I see something different. They're diamonds in the rough, waiting for a bit of polish."

"I agree," Kord chimed in with a hum, clearly pleased.

Selene rolled her eyes, muttering, "Of course you do. Augurs and their sight are hardly fair."

Lancelot raised his hand, silencing any further dissent. "My mind is made up. The invitation will be extended to…" He let the pause hang in the air.

"Lock and Mirak," Kord supplied eagerly.

Lancelot nodded. "Lock and Mirak. However, they'll need to prove their worth—a demonstration of merit for the Revenant. Does that satisfy you all? Czenth? Volim? Selene? Menis?"

A unanimous, clipped "Yes" followed.

Mirak, feeling the inevitability of the moment, asked, "What will it be?" There was little point in pretending he had a choice anymore.

Lancelot stood and approached Mirak with slow, deliberate steps. The faint scent of jasmine lingered around him, and though his movements were unhurried, every step carried an imposing weight. His golden eyes locked onto Mirak, unblinking.

"It's simple," Lancelot said softly. His gloved hand came to rest atop Mirak's head.

Lock shifted, ready to intervene, but a low, guttural growl rumbled through the hall. The crimson-and-ashen beast lounging at Menis's side rose to its full, towering height. Its snarl echoed off the glass walls, its sharp teeth bared. Menis placed a calming hand on the creature's massive head.

"Easy, Damion," Menis said soothingly. His tone was even, though the threat was clear. "I believe the man's name is Lock, correct?"

Lock's eyes flicked to the beast and then back to Menis. "Yes. It's Lock."

"Then I'm sure Lock was only acting out of concern for his friend," Menis said with an unsettling smile.

Lancelot ignored the exchange, his focus entirely on Mirak. "Look into yourself," he commanded.

Mirak blinked. "Look into myself?"

"Deeper," Lancelot urged. "Close your eyes. Dig close to your heart, to the lines where your blood flows. You'll find what I'm looking for there."

Lancelot's gloved hand pressed gently against Mirak's head, and his vision went dark. The room around him dissolved, replaced by a suffocating void. It was a sensation not unlike the mines—the heavy, sinking darkness—but this time, there was no pull, no tidal wave of overwhelming power.

His breathing slowed as he concentrated. Then, faintly, he heard it: the steady, rhythmic thud of his heartbeat. The sound grew louder, more insistent, until something strange stirred within him. A presence.

"It's there," Lancelot's voice guided him, soothing and steady. "A container for your Anntom. Every person has one. Reach for it. Draw it out, like sand slipping through your fingers. Let it course through you like your own heartbeat."

Mirak obeyed, but as he grasped for the Anntom, a crushing weight settled over him. His chest tightened, his breathing grew labored, and his body refused to respond. A hand rested on his shoulder, grounding him.

"Think of what you desire," Lancelot's voice whispered, almost hypnotic. "It will answer."

Desire? Mirak's mind raced. A new hand. Strength. Power. He needed all of it—more than Akash ever had. The thoughts repeated, louder, more insistent, until his body convulsed with the effort. Pain exploded within him as his bones cracked and shifted, his vision blurring as the Anntom began to slip through his grasp, draining away until there was nothing left.

"Raise your head, Mirak," Lancelot's voice came again, calm and assured. "Let me be the first to welcome you to the Revenant."

Mirak's eyes fluttered open. He touched his face cautiously, feeling his features as if for the first time. His reflection stared back at him from a polished surface: a sharper chin, raven-black hair framing his face, and eyes that shimmered like stardust—an unearthly blue.

"What did you do to him?" Lock demanded, his voice tense.

"I did nothing," Lancelot said smoothly. "I simply showed him the way to prove himself. Anntom works in mysterious ways."

Mirak's voice trembled. "What… happened to me?"

Lancelot crouched to meet Mirak's gaze, his golden eyes steady and almost fatherly. "It's a shame you exhausted the rest of your Anntom, but no matter. You have talent. All you need is guidance. Will you accept my invitation?"

He extended a gloved hand, waiting.

Mirak hesitated, staring at the hand like it held the secrets of the world. "I'll accept… if you teach me about the other Essences."

A faint smile touched Lancelot's lips. "Of course. Your growth is my success." Their hands clasped, sealing the deal.

Lock stood silently, his expression unreadable.

Lancelot turned to him. "And you, Lock? Will you join us?"

Lock sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Suppose I don't have much choice. Thieves on their own don't last long in Koona. My old crew's out to kill me, anyway. Best to stick with someone I trust." He glanced at Mirak and added with a smirk, "Besides, now you look like we could be brothers. Minus the missing hand, of course."

"Partners?" Mirak asked, extending his good hand.

"Partners," Lock confirmed, shaking it firmly.

Lancelot returned to his seat at the head of the table as Kord slid two boxes across to them. Inside were white cloaks, identical in design to the others.

"These are our signatures," Lancelot said. "The White Cloaks of the Revenant. You'll wear them on missions, though you're free to modify them as long as the white remains visible."

Kord grinned. "Looks like you two are going to fit in just fine."

Selene clapped her hands, her voice almost musical. "Now that the Revenant has its last members, let's celebrate! We should get to know our new family after all."