Nylessa heard it again, close enough to send a shiver through her, as though Alph stood at her shoulder.

  "Keep yourself together, Nylessa. March. Advance to Tier 3. We need you."

  The familiar, commanding voice vibrated through her. She jolted upright.

  Yes. Combat. I'm still in combat. Her chest ached with something raw and unresolved, but she pushed it down, buried it beneath purpose. Rook. Alph. They need me right now.

  Grief could wait. She sharpened her focus, eyes narrowing, and directed her attention back to her constellation.

  Alph sensed her spirit lifted and fly towards the constellation.

  "Little One," the Shaper's voice rang through the expanse, bright with barely contained elation. "You walked into another's Mind Garden. Do you understand what you've done?"

  It didn't wait for an answer.

  "This space is collective. Countless souls have thrown themselves into the void between minds. None crossed it. Not until you, just now."

  "But she heard me," Alph said. "She didn't notice me, though. Not really."

  "A cognitive barrier," the Shaper mused. "You exist here in soul form, Little One. You walk, you speak, you act. But the spirits tethered to this space were never built to perceive something like you. Their minds reject what they cannot categorize." A pause rippled through the expanse. "Speculation, of course. One I cannot confirm until I find a second anomaly like you. And in all my millennia, I have found none."

  Alph nodded, focusing his mind towards the constellation Nylessa was trying to form.

  What if…

  An outrageous idea prickled at his mind. The Shaper sensed it.

  "Oh? A novel idea. But... the cost is unknown, Little One."

  "We've come this far," Alph said, a chuckle escaping him. "Why not try it?"

  He projected his soul toward the dim stars scattered across the ethereal void. Each node vibrated with faint light, like distant heartbeats against his awareness. He searched for a star node with potent abilities, one that suited Nylessa.

  A pale green star pulsed with Nylessa’s spirit, dim like the others but alive with emerald flickers that mirrored her. Its harmonic frequency vibrated through the expanse, tingling Alph’s soul. The star’s cold radiance drew him in.

  Alph’s curiosity sharpened. His soul drifted closer to the star. He grasped its potential—instinctively, not fully, but enough. He chose it.

  He used his soul's immense force to drag the node towards thread Nylessa's spirit was building towards the Rogue path's Tier 3 node.

  The star node blared. Storms of aurora light erupted around it. The node crawled across the void, drawn by the force of Alph’s soul toward the point where Nylessa’s thread waited. Other star nodes buckled, repulsed by the node's gravity, and dispersed into the darkness.

  "Fascinating," the Shaper breathed, its voice trembling through the expanse. "Not only have I witnessed a node merger, which in itself was an unprecedented way to move the nodes, but this? Little One, you are reshaping the garden."

  Alph didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Every ounce of focus anchored the node in place. He knew the risk—if he released it, the node would snap back like a stretched cord. He’d already altered Nylessa’s path twice. One more error here would break it.

  He dragged the star into place, the effort stretching time like taut rope.

  Nylessa's spirit recoiled. A pale green node drifted out of the void, unhurried and alien, and drove her Tier 3 Rogue node sideways. Offense flared through her, sharp and immediate. She had bled for that node. But the green light carried no malice she could name, and she held herself still, watching it, wary and uncertain.

  The thread she forged met the node and fused. Light flared where they joined, steady and sure. Warmth poured through her—not the jolt of power, but something older, slower, sinking into her like dawn through ancient rock. Verdant energy surged along the thread, filling the hollows grief had left. Her mind stretched, reaching the void’s edge as the new node ignited above her.

  The constellation burned bright, four points of radiance now where three had stood before.

  She advanced.

  Alph's soul form had visibly thinned. The exertion was enormous but it was only soul force. Not something he needed to worry in the outside world. But he also understood, he should never attempt it again unless it's absolutely necessary.

  He saw Nylessa's spirit flicker and vanish. She had advanced and returned.

  "Unprecedented," the Shaper murmured, its voice settling into something almost reverent. "What transpired here today has no equal in the garden's history. And she will remember none of it."

  Alph's soul form stilled. "Why?"

  "I told you this once, Little One. The cognitive barrier. Every soul that enters this space carries the garden's knowledge within them, the constellations, the nodes, the thread-work. It surfaces the moment they cross the threshold. The moment they leave..." The Shaper paused. "Gone. Sealed. She will wake believing her soul moved through the process on its own. An instinct. A quiet surrender to something she cannot name."

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Alph’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and low. "She won’t remember any of this?"

  "None. That is the nature of the barrier. It is not cruelty. It is preservation."

  "Perhaps that is for the best," Alph said, his voice flat. "What she saw here broke her down."

  * * *

  Outside the chamber was engulfed in chaos.

  Thorfin's shield caught a bronze fist that would have caved his skull in. The impact drove him back two steps, his boots scraping against metal flooring. Three sphere guardians hovered behind the automaton, their cores charging with sickly yellow light.

  "Little help!" Thorfin bellowed, swinging his broadaxe in a wide arc that forced the bronze figure to retreat.

  Rugnir hurled a hatchet, beheading the bronze guardian poised to skewer Thorfin from behind. He retreated to the pillar where Alph sat motionless beside Nylessa's unconscious form. A spider construct skittered up the pillar's base, mandibles clicking. Rugnir split its skull with his remaining hatchet, but two more climbed behind it.

  "This is getting tiresome," Rugnir muttered, his voice tight.

  Across the chamber, Haldrix stood before the throne, lightning crackling along his prosthetic arm. The Centurion loomed over him, its body scorched from pelting thunderstorm he had conjured. Rook circled behind the construct, his blade finding seams in the bronze plating, but each strike only momentarily halted the hulking behemoth.

  The Centurion raised one massive fist. Light gathered in its palm, brilliant and terrible.

  Haldrix threw himself sideways. A scorching wave of fire carved a trench through the brass floor, melting metal into slag. The elder runesmith rolled, came up on one knee, huffing.

  Thorfin grunted as an automaton crashed into his shield and drove him into the pillar. His helmet clanged against stone. Rugnir’s hatchet carved through bronze necks and joints, but the constructs pressed forward.

  Sphere guardians released their charged bolts. Rugnir dove behind the pillar's curve. Lightning scorched the air where his head had been.

  "Varrick will be furious if his father dies, and we die with him," Thorfin grunted, shoving the automaton back.

  "Then we won't die," Rugnir replied.

  The chamber floor flared. Blue light etched a teleportation circle into the brass, pulsing with a rhythmic hum. Thorfin and Rugnir exchanged a glance; they tightened their grips on their weapons. Any ally was a reprieve.

  A silhouette materialized within the surging mana. Before the light faded or the figure could steady their footing, the bronze swarm lunged. Mandibles snapped and metal claws tore at the shimmering air surrounding the newcomer.

  Stone and brass fragments scattered like shrapnel. A figure strode through the smoke, wand raised, auburn braids whipping behind her. Morna's grey eyes blazed with cold fury.

  Arcane Blast erupted from her wand.

  The sphere guardian disintegrated. The shockwave tore through the cluster of automatons pressing Thorfin and Rugnir, flinging bronze bodies across the chamber. Spider constructs crumpled under the raw force, their legs curling inward.

  "Well," Thorfin bellowed, laughter booming from his chest, "our cannon finally arrived!"

  Rugnir allowed himself a tight smile. "Right on time, Chief Arrester."

  Morna didn't smile back. She advanced their position, wand sweeping left and right, each gesture unleashing devastating arcs of arcane force. Automatons fell in heaps. Sphere guardians burst like overripe fruit.

  Morna leveled her wand. "You lot," she said, her gaze sweeping over the dwarves. "I should have guessed."

  She stared at the massive Centurion. Her breath hitched. "What in the name of Stonemother—"

  Thorfin planted his feet and slammed his shield into the stone floor. "Gawk later. These constructs need breaking; Uncle Haldrix depends on us."

  Nylessa's eyes snapped open.

  The world snapped into focus. Every edge, every shadow, every flicker of motion burned sharp in her awareness. The Tier 2 barrier had shattered. She was Tier 3 now, a variant path, and her body still hummed with the unfamiliar power.

  She turned her head. Alph sat beside her, eyes closed, his breathing steady but shallow. His hands rested on his knees, motionless.

  Healing takes it out of you, she thought. He must be recovering his willpower.

  She rose to her feet.

  Across the chamber, bronze figures poured through a corridor opening. Thorfin and Rugnir met them at the chokepoint. Morna's arcane blasts created burning gaps in the enemy ranks.

  Nylessa's hand found her obsidian dagger. She focused on a cluster of sphere guardians drifting toward Morna's exposed flank, and the shadows embraced her.

  She materialized behind the first guardian. Her blade punched through its core. The construct sparked and died before it could turn. She vanished again, reappearing at the next guardian's side. Two heartbeats. Two kills. The shadows drank her once more.

  When she emerged, the last automaton had fallen. Thorfin leaned on his shield, breathing hard. Rugnir retrieved his hatchets from twitching bronze corpses. Morna lowered her wand, her expression unreadable beneath the smoke and sweat.

  Nylessa stood among the scattered remains of the sphere guardians, her dagger dripping with residual energy.

  "Tier 3," Rugnir observed, studying her with new eyes.

  Nylessa nodded, her expression unreadable.

  Alph groaned against the stone. His eyelids flickered and parted. He winced at the chamber's white glare, then shoved his body upright. His muscles strained with the movement. He swept his gaze across the group, fixing on every bloody gash and scorched patch of leather.

  While I was out, they resolved the crisis and as it appears, Chief Arrester Morna had a hand in it.

  "Everyone stay still," he said.

  Nature's Mend flowed from his hands. Warm green light washed over Thorfin first, knitting the gashes across his arms. Rugnir's burns faded to healthy skin. Morna's numerous cuts sealed closed.

  Thorfin stared at his healed forearm. "That's... new."

  Morna’s lips parted mid-breath, hesitation flickering across her face before her gaze snapped to Alph’s hands.

  "Druidic healing," Alph said, his voice quiet. "Long story. I'll explain later."

  Rugnir’s gaze flicked across the chamber, his voice low. "Later. We’ve still got a fight ahead."

  They turned as one, watching the distant battle unfold.

  Haldrix knelt on one knee, his prosthetic arm smoking. Rook circled the Centurion in a blur of motion, his blade leaving trailing afterimages in the air.

  "Move," Morna said, already striding forward. "Let's help them."