Adam stared out the window, his attention fixed on the brilliant moons peeking through an endless sea of clouds.

  The golden stag beetle was long gone. So was the system notification.

  He sat quietly in his seat, occasionally nibbling at fresh fruit or savoring the fragrant wine set neatly on the tray before him. For once, nothing demanded his attention—and that unsettled him more than danger ever did.

  “You’ve been staring out there for a while,” X said suddenly. “What are you hoping to see? A fairy?”

  Adam turned lazily toward her.

  She had abandoned all pretense of elegance. Cakes, pastries, and ice cream vanished into her mouth in reckless combinations, her cheeks puffed as she spoke. Melted cream smudged the corner of her lips.

  “Between you and me,” she continued, unfazed, “I’ve heard fairies are actually hideous. Sharp teeth, hollow eyes. Nothing like the stories.” She nodded solemnly, as if imparting forbidden knowledge—while still chewing.

  How I wish this world had smartphones, Adam sighed inwardly.

  His gaze drifted—against his will—downward.

  Where does all of this even go?

  “I knew it,” X laughed. “A pervert through and through. Even you aren’t immune to my deadly charms.”

  “Say that again,” Adam replied dryly, “without a mouthful of cake.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him and continued eating with renewed enthusiasm.

  Adam straightened. “I have a question.”

  “Who was it that said not to talk while eating?” X shot back. “As you can clearly see, I’m very busy. And who said I was talking to you?” She huffed, returning her full attention to the table.

  Adam watched in silence as she demolished another slice of cake, licked ice cream without shame, then tore into a slab of meat like a barbarian—the very dish he had ordered.

  Seriously. Where is it all going?

  He cleared his throat. “What’s the relationship between the Scavengers and Mxyr—”

  X’s hands shot up instantly, slick with sauce, clamping over his mouth.

  “Are you insane?” she hissed, eyes darting around the cabin. “Don’t say those names here.”

  Adam pried her hands off his face, too late to avoid the smear of grease across his lips.

  “You did that on purpose.”

  X smiled innocently, slowly licking her finger. “I have no idea what you mean. It tastes good, though. Doesn’t it?”

  Adam inhaled deeply, refusing to be dragged into her pace. “Why can’t those names be mentioned?”

  She frowned, her playful expression slipping. “You know…” she said slowly, “I still can’t figure out why those dungeon dwellers went berserk. None of my theories add up.”

  She studied him closely. “How did you even survive that horde? Are you sure you’re not some kind of monster wearing human skin?”

  Adam chuckled. “You finally figured it out. I’m the ghost of all the meat you’ve eaten, back for revenge.”

  She stared at him blankly.

  Adam laughed.

  “Seriously,” she said. “What happened back there?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “Maybe they were in heat. I’m not an expert on dungeon dwellers losing their minds.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Is that really how you’re going to play this?”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Adam smiled innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She opened her mouth—but he cut in. “Now answer my question. Or do I need to order you?”

  “You can be a real asshole,” X snapped.

  “I learned from the best,” Adam said. “You should meet him sometime—actually, no. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

  She glared at him, breathing deeply.

  Adam waited.

  “Forget it,” she finally muttered. “About your question—first, it’s basic common sense. Second, we don’t want even a whisper connecting us to either of them. Suspicion alone can get you killed. So be careful, Mr. Loud Mouth. Understood?”

  Adam nodded.

  “Both are considered among the vilest of the dark guilds,” she continued. “Even civilians fear them more than the Eight Gates.”

  Adam frowned. “That bad?”

  She nodded.

  “I know a little about you know who, but what’s the deal with the other?”

  She sighed. “Why would anyone send someone this ignorant out into the world? They must really hate you.”

  Adam smiled thinly, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

  “They aren’t hated because of what they did,” X said. “They’re hated because of what they are.”

  Adam leaned in, silent.

  “Ever heard of Xyraths?”

  He shook his head.

  “You’re not alone. They’re supposedly extinct. The largest known specimen was only five inches long.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  She didn’t smile. “Most were far smaller. Nearly invisible.”

  Adam felt like he was back on Earth, trapped in a biology lecture.

  “In their natural state, they’re harmless,” she went on. “Short-lived. A year at most.”

  “Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?”

  “Because it’s a big one.” She grinned, shaping an exaggerated curve with her hands.

  Adam laughed despite not wanting to.

  “But,” she continued, “if they enter a host from another race, everything changes.”

  “How?”

  “The first recorded Xyrath was found inside a farm bull,” she said. “Not an ordinary bull. Six times the normal weight. Hide thicker than steel. The farmer swore it wasn’t always like that.”

  Adam’s expression sharpened.

  “It mutated,” he said.

  X nodded. “They’re parasitic. They induce mutations in their hosts.”

  She raised three fingers. “That one survived three years inside the bull.”

  Adam swallowed.

  “And during that time,” she continued, “it bred with hundreds of cows. The bull was the farmer’s prized breeder.”

  “Let me guess,” Adam said quietly. “The offspring carried it.”

  “That was only half the disaster,” X said. “When the bull died, the dormant genes activated. The calves mutated. Farmers died by the dozens. The region was only saved because Awakened happened to pass through.”

  Adam leaned back, lips curling into a grim smile.

  He could already see where this was going.

  And he didn’t like it.

  “Unfortunately, a Xyrath attached itself to an Awakened—and that single parasite birthed the scourge known as Mxyrath,” she whispered.

  Adam nodded slowly, understanding dawning. If a Xyrath could transform a common breeding bull into something with a hide rivaling steel, it wasn’t difficult to imagine what it would do to an Awakened—already altered, already powerful.

  “So what’s the exact relationship between…” Adam hesitated, choosing his words carefully, “…between the two you-know-who?”

  “This is only a rumor,” X said, leaning closer, her voice barely audible. “So don’t take it as gospel. But apparently, they infiltrated the upper echelon of our organization a long time ago. Cardinals. Archbishops. Some even claim a Pope was infected.” Her jaw tightened. “It took the combined effort of everyone present to purge the guild of those suspected of being compromised.”

  She took another sip of water, then fixed Adam with a hard stare. “If you ever encounter someone who boasts—or even hints—that they belong to those parasites, kill them. Burn them. Make sure they die slowly and painfully. Show no mercy.”

  Adam nodded, his expression grave.

  As if this world weren’t dangerous enough already. Now parasites too.

  He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. “Is there any way to detect them?”

  “If there were,” X replied flatly, “they would’ve gone extinct long ago.” She paused, then added with a frown, “Funny thing is, the only other one I’ve heard about was a rapist too.”

  Her expression darkened.

  “It’s hard-coded,” Adam muttered. “Their drive to reproduce. It doesn’t matter who—or what—the host is.”

  X didn’t respond immediately, her gaze distant.

  “What happened to the other one?” Adam asked.

  She blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. “Not sure,” she said quietly. “He was part of our guild. Infamous, too. Then he vanished three years ago—around the Wazar Region.” She tilted her head, searching her memory. “Biamal, I think. The locals claimed someone drugged him and threw him into Wazar Canyon.”

  Adam stared at her, outwardly calm, but internally detonating.

  The timeline aligned too perfectly with his own time in Wazar Canyon. And Vicar had prepared enemies for him back then. Too many.

  He couldn’t shake the feeling that the rapist had been one of them.

  Unaware of the storm raging in his mind, X continued, “They say the canyon’s a prison for hundreds of demons. Anyone who goes in never comes back out alive.” She let out a soft, humorless chuckle.

  She suddenly stopped and tapped Adam’s shoulder. “Hey,” she said. “Are you even listening?”

  Adam didn’t respond. His vision had filled with glowing text.

  [Title: Devourer Activated!]

  [Memory Synchronization Enabled!]

  [Beginning Memory Synchronization…]

  [Memory Synchronization Complete!]

  A familiar demonic voice echoed in his mind, laughing lightly.

  “Well, that’s unexpected. Who would’ve thought she would be the one to trigger your repressed memories?”

  The tone shifted sharply.

  “Calm yourself, Adam. There’s someone approaching we can’t afford to offend.”

  Pain exploded behind Adam’s eyes. His skull throbbed as if splitting apart, forgotten memories tearing free and flooding his consciousness.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Pardon the intrusion,” a gentle yet authoritative voice called out. “This is your conductor. Please open the door.”