Chapter 35: This World

The chamber lights hummed faintly in the belly of Prism Tower. From a far corner near the rafters, a shadow curled tighter into itself. Aku’s body was cloaked in darkness, form dissolved into silhouette. Breath silent. Intergy stilled. No one saw him. No one could.

Below, three figures stood in conversation. President Kyto faced the central interface. To his right, Cayten— Krutone’s strategic adviser— stood arms crossed, face unmoved. To the left, Queen Lessa watched the screen as it shimmered to life, revealing the stern-faced holograms of Osin, Esren, and Amalo.

Osin (on screen): Yumitra will press the border tomorrow. We'll give them enough push to look convincing, then pull back as discussed.

Kyto: Krutone will handle Yumitra’s military support. The people want us involved, and this will pacify them for now.

Cayten: We’ll position ourselves as the necessary savior. When Revano retreats, Yumitra will sing praises to Krutone. The people need that illusion. It buys time.

Osin (smirking faintly): Essentially the same scenario like we did with Penim… and almost Zash’s son.

Lessa let out a quiet breath. Not quite a laugh. Not quite a sigh.

Lessa: Oh, what a tragedy that was. Too bad Penim died in the process.

Esren (on screen): Clyden will be next.

Amalo (on screen): Yumitra will draw Clyden in. They’ll be too cornered to resist an alliance.

Kyto: Good. We control the pace. The world fights, and we… moderate the chaos. Let the activists scream in the streets. Let them protest. We’ll make sure they beg for our help by the end. Meeting concluded.

The hologram flickered off, leaving the chamber dim and quiet once more. Aku didn’t move. Not a blink. Not a whisper. He was there. He heard it all. His back pressed deeper into the, body cloaked in darkness. The weight of their words settled over him, heavier than the air. Krutone wasn’t protecting the world. It was designing the wars. Profiting from it. Manipulating alliances. Sacrificing people like Penim to keep the illusion alive. And no one knew. But he knew now. He remained there, cloaked in silence.

Kyto: How are the rallies functioning?

Cayten: Everything as planned.

Lessa: Oh, I’m not looking forward to the debate.

Kyto: Remember your lines.

Lessa: Oh, the people will be so enraged when Cayten wins.

Cayten: Not if you do a good job at pretending to look like an idiot. Shouldn’t be all that hard for you.

Lessa: Oh, hell with you.

Cayten: Aside from the presidential race, I’m concerned about Krutone falling into a civil war. They’ll fight amongst each other.

Kyto: We let them.

Lessa: Oh, come again?

Kyto: We let them fight. Krutone is overpopulated.

Cayten: And if things get out of hand?

Kyto: It won’t.

Cayten: I know. I’m just asking what if it does?

Kyto: Then we use The Orb.

Silence.

Cayten: So, you still have it in you to use that weapon if ever needed, huh?

Kyto: When did I ever lose that will?

Lessa: Oh, Kyto. You’re so cold.

Kyto: I’m necessary.

Lessa: Oh, whatever. It’s going to be a real shock if you pull that card. Our past world leaders worked so hard to rewrite the history of The Orb and Zagons. You’ll throw that all away to end a civil war?

Kyto: Cayten asked. I answered. Besides, I said it won’t get out of hand.

Lessa: Oh, whatever you say. You still have The Orb stored safely right?

Cayten: On the fifth basement floor of this Prism Tower surrounded by our best technological security system. And we have some of our best sensory type users on each floor. Except the fifth of course.

Lessa: Oh, impressive.

Aku remained in the shadows. Every word replayed in his mind—Kyto’s cold declaration, Lessa’s mocking tone, the plan to sacrifice nations for optics. But above all, it was The Orb… it wasn’t legend. It was real. The most powerful weapon was stored beneath them on the fifth basement floor.

Lessa: Oh, well I have to head back to Luria.

Kyto: You return when?

Lessa: Oh, probably not until a long while. Everything is already in motion, so there’s nothing really left for me to do except the presidential debate with Cayten.

Cayten: Well, until then, remember to recite your lines. We don’t need you screwing up.

Lessa smiled with a slight roll of her eyes and exited the room with a sway of detached grace. Kyto and Cayten lingered only a moment longer, straightening papers with silent efficiency before leaving. Minutes passed. Still cloaked in darkness, Aku slowly unraveled himself from the shadows and stepped forward, each motion deliberate, each breath quiet. He scanned the documents with quick, sharp eyes—plans, orders, communications. There were layers upon layers of deception.

One folder caught his attention: “Revano-Clyden Conflict.” His fingers tightened. He opened it. Inside were classified reports detailing Krutone’s involvement— how Krutone had brokered the conflict from behind the curtain, subtly arming both sides while broadcasting neutrality to the world. The war had lasted only three months, but the devastation was immense. Clyden was bombed. Supply lines were cut, infrastructure was crippled, but the war wasn’t meant to be won. It was meant to fracture. Krutone had then sent aid convoys, earning praise and political favor in Clyden while secretly ensuring Revano's retreat. It had all been staged.

Aku remembered what the documents in the orphanage had said. Clyden. That’s where his parents lived, where Sen lived. The pieces clicked, not with clarity, but with cruel probability.

Aku (quietly): Clyden… is where my family is… Is this when… my parents died?...

The silence weighed heavier than before. Aku remained crouched behind the last pillar of Prism Tower’s central chamber, still cloaked in shadow. Was this the world he had vowed to save?

His jaw clenched as a bitter truth took shape. It was never about justice. Never about peace. It was a play, war scripted and directed by those who ruled from behind gilded doors, the same people who claimed to lead with vision and order were feeding chaos to the world. He was nothing to them. Not a citizen. Not a voice. Just another piece to be moved or discarded.

Anger surged through him, and in that fury, he pushed his ability further than he ever had. His Intergy folded inward, layers of his form breaking apart into a slither of blackness. He pressed into the floor’s edge where light barely touched, and there, he vanished. He became shadow incarnate, a shape without edges, capable of slipping through slivers of absence. His mind sharpened, instincts alert. He moved. The shadows of Prism Tower became his path, beneath benches, across ceilings, weaving between the outlines of frames and doorways. Guards passed. Monitors blinked. Drones hovered, but none noticed. He was silence. He was nothing.

He reached the elevator shaft eventually, its glossy doors pristine and humming with energy. No soldiers were nearby. Aku slipped beneath it, spreading like liquid darkness into the seam between the wall and floor. Once inside the shaft, he scaled downward along the shadows of the elevator’s cables, his movement slow and careful. He knew the elevator only descended to the third basement. The panel said so. But he had heard them. The fifth floor. It existed.

The elevator stopped at the third. Aku didn’t. His body, still dispersed into threads of darkness, slithered down the side of the shaft, moving past the clean mechanical lines. There were no visible buttons or passageways, no markings. Just steel and silence. But shadows… there were always shadows. He crept into the corners, through piping, behind vent frames, across underlit baseboards. No trace. No sound.

As he descended further, soldiers appeared more frequently— stationed, patrolling, guarding halls with practiced stillness. But none of them turned their heads. They never saw him. The tower’s underbelly was not just guarded by men. Surveillance drones hovered, sensors scanning thermal patterns, data screens pulsed with movement logs, robot patrol units stalked the deeper corridors, yet Aku bypassed it all. Mayzen was there, and he raised his head, unsure if he could feel Aku’s presence or not.

Aku kept going. Then he saw it—a wall that shouldn’t have drawn attention, yet something about it felt off. There was a subtle outline, barely perceptible. It was a rectangle traced into the surface. Aku crept close. The seams were tight, but shadow does not need much. Inch by inch, he pushed through the slivers of darkness that lined the doorframe, his body practically liquefying with how tight the space was. It took time. Minutes passed. Then more. But eventually, his form seeped through to the other side.

A small stairwell revealed itself on the other end, lit by nothing but the faint gleam of the tower far above. He reformed briefly, taking a breath, eyes adjusting to the void. Then he moved again, quiet steps down the narrow spiral, each footfall softer than the last. The fourth basement was a void. There were no lights or screens. Just a room of utter blackness. He paused, letting the nothingness settle. There was no security here. No presence. No sign of movement. Just silence. His steps found more stairs and descended and finally reached the fifth basement floor.

At first, he saw nothing. Just emptiness. Then, as his eyes adjusted, a faint light pulsed from the far end— black and white. The light wasn’t bright. It was soft. Aku stepped forward, every muscle tense. The source of the light came into view. It was there. The Orb.

Suspended in a cylindrical chamber of Intergy, its container humming with thin streams of reinforced energy, anchored to thick conduits pulsing like arteries. The Orb itself hovered. It was about the size of a closed fist, swirling gently with black and white mist spiraling inward and outward. It didn’t burn. It didn’t buzz. It simply was.  Aku stepped forward fully now, no longer hiding. The darkness in the room didn’t matter anymore. He had arrived. His feet echoed faintly as he moved across the floor. He stood before it and for the first time, he saw it as it truly was. He stared.

Aku (quietly): You’re real.

Mayzen: And so are you.

Aku was startled and looked behind him. There stood Mayzen.

Aku: Mayzen! I can explain!

Mayzen: Then explain.

Aku: I— uhh, I— umm… damn it.

Mayzen: How do you do it?

Aku: What?

Mayzen: How did you slip by?

Aku: I… I wasn’t going to take The Orb!

Mayzen looked over and could see The Orb.

Mayzen: The Orb is a real thing… Incredible.

Aku looked at The Orb, then back to Mayzen.

Aku: The Orb… yeah… it’s there.

Mayzen: How did you slip by me?

Aku: I… can hide myself.

Mayzen: I’m Krutone’s most powerful sensory type. I can find any one I want. I feel Intergy. But you, how did you do it?

Aku: It’s just… something I can do.

Mayzen: I felt a slight bit of darkness pass by me just now, and it felt like you, but I wasn’t sure. No one has ever been able to get by me like that.

Aku: Well… why are you here? Are you going to stop me?

A loud explosion and alarms could be heard from two stories above.

Aku: What is that?

Mayzen: I’m not against you. My instincts told me it was you.

Aku: Then, why are you here?

Mayzen: Take The Orb.

Aku: What?

Mayzen: Take it now!

Aku turned to The Orb and blasted darkness, destroying the Intergy that sealed it. Immediately, Aku grabbed it and robots could be heard running towards them.

Mayzen: I got rid of every soldier and robot on the third floor. Reinforcement must be coming. We use The Orb to fight what’s coming.

Aku: I don’t know how to use this thing!

Mayzen: Think of something fast!

Aku immediately used The Orb and unexpectedly opened a portal.

Mayzen: What is that?

Aku: I have no idea!

Mayzen: Jump through!

Immediately, Aku ran through the portal and Mayzen followed. Together they entered a world in darkness and many moons that lit the night sky. The Void. Behind, several robots almost reached them, but the portal sealed and clipping off one of the robot’s head into their newly found world. Aku and Mayzen looked around. Zagons were already there resting, now awake.

Aku: What are those things!?

Mayzen: I don’t know, but we have to get out!

Aku looked at The Orb and used it again. Another portal was made and Aku ran through. Mayzen was going to follow, but the portal sealed instantly. He looked around him to figure out where he was. Allatora. Signs of Allatora were around him. From there, he knew where he was at. So, he ran. He ran to back to Troita with The Orb in his hands. He was running faster than ever could. It was power from The Orb. He wouldn’t even get exhausted. And then finally, without stopping, he reached Troita. He ran past the orphanage he grew up in and found the church, the homeless shelter that Josar and Sicrus worked in. He looked around running through the crowds that were already fading away as it was evening time. Then he found them. Josar and Sicrus.

Aku tightened his grip on The Orb. Its soft glow pulsed once, and in a single breath, he willed it to act. Another portal tore itself open in the air before him, a rippling oval of swirling black and white mist. He ran through. Mayzen followed but this portal wasn’t like the last. Before his foot could cross the threshold, the portal snapped shut with a sharp hiss, vanishing like it had never existed. The air stilled. Mayzen stood alone, and Aku was gone.

When Aku’s foot touched ground again, he staggered forward slightly, blinking. The light had changed. The temperature. The air. It wasn’t Krutone anymore. He stood in the dusty edge of a crumbling city, the sky bruised with the golds and purples of a fading sun. Wind brushed against rusted signs and broken fences. The scent of old metal and burning trash carried faintly on the air. Allatora. He recognized the cracked pavement. The sunken buildings. The weary aura of survival that lingered in every corner.  His breath caught in his throat. Then he ran.

The Orb pulsed faintly in his hand as he sprinted through the hushed streets, its power coiling through his veins. His legs didn’t burn. His lungs didn’t ache. He wasn’t just fast.

Time blurred. Roads passed. He had one targeted place to reach. He reached Troita.

The skyline was low here. Aku slowed. Not from exhaustion but because he was close. The Orb dimmed in his palm as if sensing what lay ahead. He turned down a side alley, emerging near a narrow road flanked by aging brick. There it was. The orphanage. Still standing. The paint more peeled, the gate slightly bent, but still holding. He paused for just a breath, just enough to let the nostalgia sting, then he kept running. A few more streets. A few more blocks, and finally, the church. He could hear faint voices inside, plates clinking, and footsteps shuffling. Aku stepped into the light and scanned the crowd. The volunteers, the homeless, the workers were already fading, drifting out into the night one by one. The day was ending.

He weaved through them, face unreadable, heart pounding with something beyond adrenaline. Hope, maybe. Desperation. His eyes flicked from face to face, searching, searching— There.

Standing near a table, sleeves rolled up, Josar. Beside him, stacking folded blankets, Sicrus. Aku didn’t slow down. He ran straight toward them, and for the first time in a long time, they saw him. Josar looked shocked, almost dropping the plate he was holding. Sicrus stepped back in disbelief.

Josar: Aku?

Sicrus: What are you doing here?

Aku (whispering): Guys! I screwed up! I screwed up bad!

Josar (looking at The Orb): What is that in your hand?

Sicrus: Cool to see you again, but—

Aku: Guys! I don’t know what to do.

Josar: Slow down. What’s going on?

Aku: I stole this thing from Krutone.

Sicrus: What is it?

Aku: The Orb.

Sicrus: I can clearly see it’s an orb.

Aku: No, no. The Orb. The Zagons. The books that we read in the orphanage.

Sicrus: The hell you on about? You mean the—

Aku: Yes, yes! The Orb!

Josar: You can’t be serious.

Aku: I’m serious, damn it!

Sicrus: What the hell are we supposed to do about it?

Aku: I don’t know— I just, I just need help.

Josar: What did you get yourself into?

Aku: I don’t know! I already said I don’t know!

The sound of wooden doors of slammed open on the other side. Troita soldiers and guards could be head pouring in.

Sicrus: What the hell was that?

Aku: How did they find me?

Josar: You’re being hunted?

Aku thought for a quick moment and saw his wristband from Krutone.

Aku: This thing!

Aku broke off the wristband and threw it to the floor. The soldiers that were searching found Aku standing with Josar and Sicrus. One pointed at them.

Soldier: There!

The soldiers began charging at them, some shooting fire and ice. Josar jumped to defend immediately, summoning a powerful force of wind to redirect the incoming attack.

Sicrus: What the fuck, Aku!? What is this shit!?

Aku did the only thing he could think of. He used The Orb again, and another portal opened. Josar and Sicrus couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

Aku: Go, go, go!

At first they hesitated, but Josar and Sicrus ran through. Then, Aku followed, sealing the portal behind. There, Mayzen stood waiting unharmed. The Zagons were around, observing.

Sicrus (staring at the Zagons): What the fuck are those?

Mayzen: Stop. They aren’t aggressive.

Josar: Are those… Zagons?

Aku looked around him. They were safe.

Josar: Aku, what the actual hell did you get us into?

Aku: I know. I know. It’s crazy.

Aku looked at The Orb resting in his hands.

Sicrus: Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.

Josar: And who’s this person?

Aku: He’s Mayzen. We worked together in Krutone.

An awkward moment of silence.

Aku: I need some time.

Josar and Sicrus looked at each other and blinked, trying to process everything that happened in the past ten minutes.

Aku: I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Just give me a moment to think. I’ll explain everything, I promise.

Josar: Okay.

Aku looked at Josar.

Josar: Take some time, but we’re really going to need to talk.

Aku looked at everyone, then at the Zagons, then at everyone once more. He walked away.

Sicrus: Where are you—

Josar interrupted Sicrus with a gesture. Aku left.

Aku sat alone on the jagged surface of a massive stone, its edges cool beneath him, the rock rooted in the quiet heart of the Void. Above, the moons of this unknown world hung like bruised memories. He didn’t move. The Orb still cradled loosely in one palm, its glow dim now, almost reverent. Off to the side, Josar and Sicrus sat near Mayzen, the three of them speaking in low tones, their bodies slack with the weight of what they’d been thrust into. But Aku remained apart, not because he was excluded, but because he had separated himself.

He thought about the chipped walls of the orphanage. He remembered the way Josar used to speak goodness like it was currency and the way Sicrus rebelled against anything that threatened to silence him. He remembered the promise they made to each other: to stick together, to survive, to be more than what the world thought of orphans. And yet, here they were in a place no map could name, running from a world that said they never mattered.

Everything felt heavier in hindsight. The rallies, the signs, the protests—were they always destined to fail? The people cheered for change, and Aku had believed them. But now, after hearing Kyto, he knew they were never meant to win. The system had never been broken. It was designed that way… And he was just the latest fool trying to fix it with hope.

Was he a criminal now? A savior? A villain? He had stolen something legendary. What else could he have done? Sit quietly while nations were sacrificed for strategy? Accept that orphans would keep filling shelters because the world priced children like commodities?

He glanced at Josar for a moment. Josar had always wanted to be a good person. He worked in a shelter, gave food to the broken, and listened when no one else would. But what is goodness, really? Josar believed in helping people, but Aku was starting to believe that maybe the world wasn’t designed to be helped.

And Sicrus… he never said it, but Aku could feel his resentment. Sicrus had been left behind with dirty dishes and hollow men. He was always loyal, supporting in any way he could. But what good is supporting a cause that is predestined to fail by a system forged to confuse brokenness with democracy?

And then there was Mayzen. A man who didn’t move unless he understood the outcome, who studied life the way others read history. He had helped Aku escape. Helped him steal The Orb. But why? Curiosity? Calculation? Something deeper?

Aku looked up again. The moons didn’t answer. They never did. But they watched. Maybe that was enough. Realization came that there is no justice unless it’s created, and sometimes, to create justice, one must stop being good… And that hurts.

Almost the full day passed. Aku approached.

Aku: Hey.

Sicrus (quietly): Hey.

Josar: So, are you ready to talk?

Aku: Yeah…

Sicrus sighed, unsure about the position they’re in.

Aku (to Mayzen): You can stay if you’d like.

Mayzen stood there, interested. Josar and Sicrus waited patiently.

Aku: I’m going to need you to hear me out. It’s not going to be something you want to hear… but I’m asking to just listen to what I have to say… not as your friend… but as family…