The Unmaker

Shuffling through the afternoon streets of the recovering desert city hadn't exactly been on Dahlia's schedule when she woke up today. She kept one hand on her bandaged wounds, not necessarily out of pain anymore, but just to remind herself she was still healing. Her body had only just stopped trembling the other day. Even now, her steps felt too light like she hadn't quite returned to gravity yet.

She'd rather be in bed, but at the same time… last week kept looping in her thoughts like a snagged cord.

Right after she fell out of the wormhole—and right onto her bed in Tavern Emparatoria—she'd immediately bolted outside in a panic. She'd run through the dark, trying to make it back to the alabaster tower, but by the time she reached the plaza, it was already gone. No trace of snow. No garden of four-petal flowers.

There was only that vast, circular hole left in the earth.

She'd stood there by the edge of the hole, peering into the abyss, and realised the tower hadn't sunk. It'd never been a 'tower' to begin with.

Later, Safi had told her—quite offhandedly over some soup—that the Worm God she'd met wasn't even the real one. Apparently, there were eleven of him. Clones scattered across the continent each bearing a piece of his power. The one she'd met was just the wandering one.

A travelling shell.

And even that shell had made her knees shake like never before.

She swallowed hard as she crossed another street, brushing past scaffolding and market stalls. She wasn't trembling anymore, but something about that realisation still unsettled her. That someone so cold and mechanical was humanity's greatest champion just didn't completely sit right with her, but more important than that… she never ended up getting the chance to ask him more about the assassin bugs.

That, perhaps, was her greatest regret.

[You're drifting off-course,] Kari said suddenly, making her flinch. [Want me to pull up the map again?]

"...Yeah."

Standing off to the side of the street, she watched, again in awe, as a crisp blue square lit up in the top right of her vision. Her icon glowed as a small red silhouette in the top-down maze-like street grid, while a silver 'X' pulsed just a few more blocks away, a bit further north.

It still felt surreal. Now that she'd passed the exam, she was a fully-fledged Hasharana now, which meant she now had access to hundreds of system features that'd been placed on lock before. Now, she had no idea what ninety percent of them even did—and Kari had been kind enough not to overwhelm her with new information all at once—but right here, right now, the live top-down map feature was what was guiding her to her destination.

She had half a mind to ask Kari how the live map was even being generated, but it was surely going to be some explanation she was too tired to understand, so… later.

She followed the map's silver X across winding streets and half-finished scaffolding, the sun glinting off broken windows and patched sandstone. Vendors were starting to reappear after the battle a month ago, but this northern district was quieter. Maybe a bit too quiet, because by the time she reached that lighthouse-shaped cafe where she'd once had lunch with Muyang and Emilia and the rest, the street had emptied out entirely.

Not a soul in sight.

Dahlia slowed to a stop in front of the flower-adorned door and looked up at the towering cafe, frowning.

"This… is where Alice told me to go to in her message?"

[Yep,] Kari chirped. [This is the place. Go in.]

She hesitated. Of course. The last time she was here, there was a receptionist to welcome her in, but now she had to reach for the handle herself.

As soon as she pushed it open—

"Welcome, welcome!"

She flinched so hard she nearly stumbled backward.

A sudden burst of cheers exploded from above, followed by an avalanche of petals—some real, some paper—that rained down from the topmost floor twenty metres up in a bright, messy cascade. Dahlia ducked on instinct, blinking through the fluttering storm as laughter echoed down at her.

She looked up and saw all of them leaning over the railing, faces grinning wide: Otto, Wisnu, Muyang, Emilia, Alice—and even Safi, who was holding a juice glass like he'd been waiting all day for this.

"You're late!" Alice called out, waving both hands down at her. "Come on up already! How can you be late to your own party?"

…

Surprised, Dahlia climbed the winding staircase of the cafe, her sandals thudding lightly against the old wooden steps. The greenhouse interior drenched in late-afternoon light was pretty as ever—glass walls curved overhead in a soft dome, and vines dangling lazily from hanging pots—but what really caught her attention, as she finally reached the circular platform on the topmost floor, was the scent of warm bread, grilled meat, and sugared fruit filling the air.

It was a feast.

At the center of the platform stood a long rectangular table dressed in a patchwork of colour: polished clay plates stacked high with roasted skewers, pastries wrapped in ribbons of leaf, and chilled fruit slices glistening over chipped porcelain. Wildflowers spilled from every vase around the platform —reds, yellows, purples—all half-wilting from the heat, but cheerful all the same.

Bright fabric banners swayed faintly in the breeze from the open windows around them. The first person she noticed was Blaire, sitting alone on her chair and facing one of the open windows with a single plate in her lap. Her mask was slid halfway off her face so she could eat quietly, but with her back turned, her face was hidden.

But Dahlia barely had time to wonder about Blaire before the other people cheered and caught her attention again.

"Passed with flying colours!" Emilia declared, raising a glass like she was christening a ship.

"You have crossed the first threshold," Muyang intoned with a serene nod, "like a caterpillar stepping into chrysalis."

Before she could reply, Otto stumbled over, flushed and grinning, a faint wobble in his step. He immediately slung an arm around Dahlia's shoulder without warning.

"Come on, champion," he slurred, dragging her closer to the feast. "Sit. Stuff your face. We have to celebrate our survival!"

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Dahlia let herself be pulled into her chair at one end of the table, heart still hammering, her eyes wide at the food laid out like a festival. Everyone else was already settling into the other chairs, claiming seats at random and talking over one another with the easy chaos of old friends.

"I…I don't…" she trailed off, blinking at the overflowing table. "What's all this for?"

A stupid question. She knew it was. But Alice plopped down on the seat all across on the other end of the table, grinning as she put her feet up on the table and kicked back in her chair. "Uncle booked the whole place out, you know! All for you!"

Safi, already seated on a distant chair far from the table, looked at her sheepishly with a small plate of cake in his hand. "You kids better eat every last crumb. It took me a week to prepare everything."

Chairs scraped. Dishes clattered. Everyone shuffled into random seats, already reaching for fruit, bread, whatever was closest, and Wisnu raised her glass of juice before Dahlia could take it all in.

"To Dahlia."

A loud cheer erupted. Otto whooped. Alice clapped. Emilia gave a sarcastic little bow, then snatched a honeyed roll off a plate.

Dahlia flinched at the attention, shrinking slightly under their eyes. She managed a small smile, but… guilt tugged at her ribs.

She let her gaze drift from face to face. Wisnu's calm, Otto's flushed, Emilia's tired eyes still sparkling, Muyang silently nodding as he bit into a pear and, Blaire, behind them all, was still turned towards the window and eating on her own.

None of them had passed.

That fact still thudded in her chest, heavy and awkward. She'd been told a few days ago, but no one had talked about it much. They certainly hadn't come to visit her in the past week, nor had she managed to find them once in the past week. Now, watching them laugh, drink, and dig into food, it was hard to believe they weren't bitter. She would've been. Maybe.

Would she be laughing like this if things had gone the other way?

…

Still, the table buzzed with warm conversation, so she shook the thought away and forced herself to join in.

The next few hours passed in that cheerful blur. They shared half-remembered toasts, laughter echoing against the glass ceiling, and stories about their battle against the Spider Gods. Wisnu and Muyang spoke of Apocia's ungodly strength. Drunk Otto showed off his eyepatch and new explosive shrapnel rounds. Emilia belted out into song here and there, while Safi kept pouring juice and clearing plates with the kind of speed that only came from years of tavern-keeping.

It didn't even really feel like a farewell, but eventually, the sun had to drop low.

The light turned amber. Shadows stretched long across the floor. One by one, the plates emptied. Cups stopped refilling. Safi stood and began clearing with more purpose, and Dahlia found herself still sitting at the end of the table, hands resting on her lap, surrounded by the soft clutter of crumpled napkins and crumbs.

Her stomach was full. Her throat was tight.

She couldn't not ask before everyone started leaving.

"Are… are all of you really okay with how it turned out?" she said, her voice small and embarrassingly squeaky. "I thought… everyone was going to pass. We all killed the two Spider Gods together, so…"

Silence hovered for a moment, and immediately, she regretted asking. It was just a dampener on the tensely cheery atmosphere they had going on, but—

"Well, that's just how it is sometimes," Otto said curtly, shrugging as he did. "Don't mean I regret trying."

"We all have our own paths," Wisnu said gently. "Some of us merely take longer to walk them. I will be back next year."

Muyang nodded once. "Even the moon must wait for the tide. Next year, I, too, shall return leaner and keener."

Blaire hadn't turned around, still, so Dahlia looked to Emilia. The Cicada Musician hadn't spoken a word since the feast wound down, either, but now she traced the rim of her juice glass with a finger. Her smile was one that didn't carry the meaning behind it.

"Don't waste your breath feeling sorry for us," Emilia said at last, voice dry. "We'll manage. It's not your job to carry our failures too."

Dahlia didn't know what to say to that. She felt like she should say something comforting, but nothing would come out right. Not from the only one here who passed.

Then Otto clapped his hands, jolting the air.

"Hey, Dahlia. If you ever get assigned to the northeast, drop by the Glasbrenner manor, won't you?"

His voice carried the usual cheery lilt, but there was a quiet sincerity behind it. Around the table, the others chimed in as well. Emila raised a brow and smirked dryly, telling all of them to write letters to each other. Muyang calmly added that distant friends should still walk the same stars, so he'd keep all of them in his heart, while Wisnu shared her manor's coordinates so they'd know where to find her if needed.

But the sun had slipped low enough that shadows reached across the floor now, long and blue.

The time to linger was over.

Chairs scraped against wood, and one by one, everyone began to rise.

Wisnu was the first to step away from the table.

She walked towards Blaire, who still sat with her back to the others, a lone silhouette against the soft glow of the window. The tension between them thickened with each step, and Dahlia found herself holding her breath.

They're… not going to fight again, are they?

Blaire glanced over her shoulder, and the two girls met eyes—distant and unreadable—as they stood in a silent pause.

Surprisingly, though, Wisnu simply extended a hand.

"... Thank you," she said. "We wouldn't have stopped the Spider Gods without you."

Blaire didn't take the hand right away. She didn't even really meet Wisnu's gaze.

But after a moment of stillness, she craned one arm back and shook it awkwardly.

"I didn't do it for you," Blaire muttered, withdrawing her hand. "And I didn't fail the exam just to play saviour."

Then she stood, brushing off her coat, and beelined for the stairs.

"I'll be back next year," she said plainly, "so you better be, too. I want a proper rematch."

And her boots clicked lightly against the wooden steps as she disappeared quickly below the platform, leaving as mysteriously as she'd first popped into all of their lives.

Wisnu watched her go before letting out a quiet sigh.

"Gloomy as ever, that one."

Muyang gave a sagely nod. "But even the coldest river returns in spring. She is not the villain you have made her out to be, hm?" Then he turned to the others, bowing deeply. "I shall wander and refine my discipline beneath the open sky. If fate will have it, we shall reunite next year."

Wisnu joined him with a quiet smile. "I'll be back too. No retreat."

Otto and Emilia were slower to move. Neither said much. Otto glanced around the room like he was trying to memorise it, eyes softer than usual, while Emilia, for once, looked troubled. Something deep pulled behind her sharp eyes, as if some part of her was still caught back in that 'tower' with the Worm God.

Dahlia still wanted to say something… but instead, she stood quietly as they all exchanged scraps of parchment, folded notes, and smudged addresses. A final, messy trade of promises and future rendezvous that she wasn't exactly invited to, because she was the only one who'd passed.

So she bowed to them, low and proper, hands by her sides.

"Thank you," she said, and she meant it. "For today, and… for everything. I'd really like to meet you all again."

…

All of them smiled at her—not just politely, but wistfully—and without another word, they all left one after the other.

The last goodbyes echoed down the stairwell, and the cafe grew quiet again. Now, it was just her, Alice, and Safi up on the top floor, surrounded by half-cleared dishes and the faint perfume of pretty flowers.

She stared at the mouth of the stairwell where the others had gone, a strange tightness settling in her chest. It would probably be a while before she saw those five again. Maybe months. Maybe longer. And sure, they were all carrying their own bruises—some anger, some disappointment, maybe a little bitterness—but even so, she believed they'd meet again.

She had to believe it. They were all too stubborn, too bright, and too brilliant to vanish for good.

Safi clapped his hands once, then started briskly gathering plates. "Alright, you two. Out with you. I've got cleaning to do, and the last thing I need is a pair of full-bellied brats hovering around and knocking over cups."

Alice shot him a mock salute. "Yes, boss." Then she turned to Dahlia and grinned, grabbing her hand without hesitation. "We're stuffed, so we gotta walk it off. Let's take a hike!"

Dahlia blinked at her, still half-lost in her thoughts.

"But we're in the middle of the desert?"