Harper's weeping had gone silent. The ruined hovel was wrapped in the quiet of the night air, carrying the heavy, salt-choked scent of the Dark Sea.
The young man had collapsed into sleep, either claimed by the industrial-strength alcohol or the sudden, total drainage of his emotional reserves. He likely hadn't slept like this in months; his mind and heart had finally relaxed, anchored by the weight of someone willing to share his burden.
Zachary watched him, his face a neutral mask that betrayed nothing.
'What am I even going to do with you?' Zachary wondered, a frown finally breaking his composure.
'What is this guy's problem, anyway? No matter if he lives or dies, he somehow finds a way to rouse shit up and change everything for the worse!' He ruffled his hair in annoyance, sighing in defeat. 'I think I've sighed more in the past few months than in my entire life in the Other World. Man, I'm telling you, they don't give me a break...'
He cursed under his breath, but the bitterness was hollow. Deep down, he didn't harbor any ill will toward the people he'd met. But he knew the script.
He knew Nephis's plans.
The weak had no place in the coming war. In fact, they were the fuel meant to burn so the rest could become strong enough to challenge the Spire. That was the core of the civil war—Nephis needed an army, not a refugee camp. For Harper to survive that... it was an impossible thought.
'Not just him.' A chill crawled down Zachary's spine along the nameless feeling. 'Lester, Mauro, Arlo... they aren't fighters. Kido died in the original story, too. Is it fair to only focus on guaranteeing the survival of this one bastard I befriended today?'
Zachary's frown deepened. He covered his mouth with his hand, sinking into a silence that stretched from seconds into minutes. Finally, he pressed his palm against his eyes, trying to massage away a mounting migraine.
"I guess I'm going solo after all—" He stopped, shaking his head. 'No, no. Don't jump to conclusions yet. If... if my presence here really changed things—'
He left the thought unfinished, as if voicing the hope would make the inevitable consequences even more real. With one last sigh, he stood and walked to the ruined door. He needed air, and Harper needed the rest.
Closing the door softly behind him, Zachary looked up and was immediately greeted by a sight he wasn't sure he was ready for.
Blonde hair danced in the salty breeze.
Cassie was standing a few meters away, staring out at the Outer Settlement. She didn't turn to meet his gaze, but the shift in her posture made it clear she felt his eyes on her. Zachary's expression darkened for a moment before he exhaled and walked toward her.
"You know, Cass," Zachary began, his tone soft but pointed as he stood behind her. "It's pretty rude to eavesdrop on people's conversations without permission."
Cassie flinched. She turned timidly toward him. Even though her blue eyes were blind, he could feel the weight of her "sight" pressing against him.
"I-I didn't mean to..." she apologized, her head dipping to avoid his face. "I... I listened, before it happened... I'm—I'm sorry."
Zachary looked at her for a few seconds, then lowered his head with a tired sigh. "Then you must understand why I'm doing this, right?"
His gaze softened. She was, in many ways, the most miserable soul in this story. Her True Name was her cage—a witness to a tragedy she was powerless to stop. The sheer impotence of it had to be maddening. Zachary began to walk past her, but then a sudden, sharp flash of understanding struck him.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
"Is this..." Zachary's voice trembled slightly. He was almost afraid to ask, but he had to know. "Is this why you apologized back on the boat?"
His voice was a fragile mix of hope and dread. If she had apologized back then for prying into his thoughts or motives now, he could forgive—
Cassie's shoulders shook. She bit her lower lip, hard. She didn't answer, she didn't need to.
Her silence was the only answer he needed.
"... I see." Zachary said calmly.
He turned to walk away, but a tiny, trembling hand shot out and gripped his wrist.
[You have received a Memory: Endless Spring.]
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry," Cassie whispered under her breath, her voice breaking.
Zachary looked down at the runes for a final time before pulling his arm back, his face was a blank slate. He turned away and shook his head.
"It's alright, Cassie... Do your worst."
He walked away, leaving the blind seer behind in the salt-heavy shadows. He crossed the Outer Settlement until his shoes met the cold stone road. Zachary stopped for a heartbeat, looking up at the starless, empty sky, and shook his head. Without a word, without another sigh, he moved forward. His face was calm, his crimson eyes fixed steadily on the dark horizon.
His posture was confident and relaxed, but his right hand was restless. His thumb danced over his other fingers in a quiet, frantic rhythm. Every few steps, his mouth would part as if words were trying to escape, only for him to catch them and imprison them again behind a bitten lip.
Finally, the Dark City began to sprawl out below him. But between him and the ruins stood a flicker of silver, fluttering wildly in the night breeze. Zachary scowled, followed by a short, exhausted chuckle.
"Where are you going, Zach?" Nephis asked. Her breaths were quick and shallow; it was obvious she had sprinted from whatever task she'd been attending to.
"Oh, yes. About that." He coughed awkwardly into his hand. "I was thinking about taking a leave of absence. I was planning to send my two weeks' notice, but—"
"Drop the bullshit, Zach," she said, her voice devoid of humor. A scowl began to harden her features.
He flinched. 'Where did she learn words like that? Surely not from me... right?' He looked at her for a few seconds, then ruffled his hair in annoyance.
Zachary had wanted to avoid this. There wasn't much left to say between them. He knew her objectives, and he knew this iteration of Nephis wouldn't compromise for someone like him. Not yet.
'But if—'
This version of Nephis was too young. She had experienced too little. In the original story, it wasn't until the Siege of the Crimson Spire ended that she truly understood the cost of her path, and even then, she had merely called the consequences "distasteful."
'But if my—'
He knew of course, the discussion she and Sunny had in similar circumstance. It was essential for her growth. Yet... forcing her through that conversation just to aid her "development as a character" felt wrong. It made the nameless feeling surge in his chest.
Zachary still didn't understand the true nature of that sensation, but he was starting to recognize its trigger: it appeared whenever the line between "person" and "character" started to blur.
'I don't exactly find enjoyment in trauma-dumping on a teenager,' Zachary thought, looking back up at the black sky. This had been a very long day.
"Please, Neph. Can we leave this conversation for later? Or maybe just... never?" Zachary asked, kicking a loose stone with his shoe. "I'm just—"
"Cassie already told me," Nephis interrupted, her frown deepening into anger. "You're leaving."
"Ah, Cassie..." He shook his head. "She really doesn't know how to stay quiet, does she?"
"Come clean, Zachary." She took a step toward him, closing the distance. "You owe me at least this much."
"I owe you nothing," he answered immediately, raising an eyebrow. "Don't misunderstand our relationship, Neph... But I guess you're right."
Nephis looked conflicted, her expression shifting as she searched his face. "Is it because of the Spire Messenger? About what I—"
"No," Zachary cut her off. "It isn't because of that. And you know it."
Nephis locked gazes with him, her face darkening with emotions she wasn't ready to show. Finally, she spoke.
"If it's about the way the others are treating you, I can—"
Something about the way she was purposefully avoiding the answer struck him wrongly.
"Oh, come on," Zachary sighed with exasperation. "You're the one who wanted to talk, so let's talk. But be honest, Neph."
Nephis remained quiet. Her cold, grey eyes didn't waver, but beneath the surface, he could see a storm of conflict.
'But if my presence...'
He still refused to finish the thought, but a mixture of hope and dread began to surge in his chest. With a heavy heart, Zachary decided to take the leap.
"Sea of fire, rivers of blood, all that bullshit," he announced, gesturing toward the slums. "Your plan for these miserable souls—that's what this is all about. Ready to be real about it?"
Nephis didn't flinch at his frankness. Instead, a strange fire ignited in her eyes—different from her usual defiance.
"I don't—"
"Don't do this, Neph. Don't lie. It's unnecessary." Zachary said, dragging a tired hand across his forehead. "What are you even trying to prove? To whom?"
Nephis's expression shifted into genuine confusion. He felt the weight of her gaze, and swallowing his hesitation, he pushed further.
"You can try to deceive them all you want. Deceive me, too. But please, don't lie to yourself." Zachary turned his head slightly, as if looking at someone standing just out of sight. "You must have read about this, right?
The person who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others."
Nephis stared at him. The flickering light from her eyes cast deep, dancing shadows across her face, making her ivory features seem to shift through a thousand different emotions at once. Her mouth opened and closed as if she were searching for a prayer she had forgotten how to say.
Finally, she let out a sharp breath. "Fine. You're right." The conflict vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, sharp clarity.
"And who are you to quote Dostoevsky at me?" She took a fiery step toward him, her presence suddenly overwhelming. "I don't know why you're suddenly so worried about them... when the only reason I'm even able to do this is because of you."
Zachary turned sharply, a cold spike of dread piercing his heart. His ears began to ring. "What?"
"Oh, come on," Nephis scoffed. "You're the one preaching about honesty? Then be honest. You've been hiding your own goals behind sentimentalism this whole time. Don't you remember what I asked you back on the cliffs?"
Her words hit him like a bucket of ice water. He knew exactly what she meant. He had considered it before—how he had draped his true objectives in the tattered veil of his own fear and loneliness. But hearing her weaponize it so brazenly?
In the original story Nephis used Sunny's lies to gather her followers. Now, under Zachary's influence she used emotions, fueling the dreams, fears and hopes of the Sleepers on a common goal. Knowing his own pain was being used to fuel her bloody crusade...
"I have to give you credit," Nephis continued, oblivious to his internal turmoil. "You're such a strange man. If—"
"You did not just do that," Zachary interrupted with a sharp, incredulous laugh. "I can't believe you. You did not just use my most vulnerable moment to kickstart your little theater. Hahaha!"
"Vulnerable?" Nephis asked, recoiling slightly at the jagged sound of his laughter.
"The moment you asked why I was pushing myself so hard, I could have given you a hundred pragmatic reasons." Zachary erupted, his arm waving wildly. "I could have told you about my damned Flaw pursuing me, that if I stop, it'll consume me! But no—I decided to open up. I showed you the pained loneliness I'm carrying. And you... you use it to excuse this charade of yours?"
Zachary felt a sting in his chest. Was he hurt? He couldn't tell. He told himself he wasn't. It was just bothersome. The idea of his confession being turned against him was an annoyance, nothing more.
"Excuse my charade?" Nephis's scowl deepened, her annoyance palpable. Her lips and eyes trembled for a fraction of a second before the mask settled back into place. "I'm not excusing anything."
"Oh, come on. This again?" He rolled his eyes. "It's exactly what you're doing, Neph. You're acting like a little girl trying to rationalize that her mischief wasn't wrong. I can see what you're doing. Giving them a purpose, letting them 'die as humans'... but you—"
"Your audacity," Nephis hissed, stabbing a finger into his chest. "Who are you to judge me?"
Zachary took a step back, caught off guard by her sudden outburst, but she wasn't finished.
"Didn't we already talk about this the day Effie revealed the truth of this place? How we just had to find a way forward?" Her voice was thin, vibrating with a mixture of confusion and raw frustration. "And now that I've found a way, you're against it. And for what?"
She pointed behind him toward the slums. "For them? Don't make me laugh. You're not that type of person... I know it."
'Type of person?' Zachary's confusion deepened, replaced by a rising feeling of dread. "What do you mean?"
She scoffed, turning her back to him as she spoke coldly. "I might not know much about human interaction, but I do know about humans." Nephis looked back at him over her shoulder. "You say you know about my family, right? Then you can guess what happens once you lose all your power. Your enemies remain."
She closed her eyes for a moment, as if she could still see those days playing out behind her eyelids.
"A lot of people have tried to kill me, Zach. I wasn't strong enough to defend myself back then," she said nonchalantly. "The people protecting me dwindled by the day, and I had to survive somehow. So, I learned how to read people. I learned to expect the treason before it happened. Some might call it unhealthy, but it worked... and that's how I know what type of man you are."
Nephis turned fully to face him again. "I told you before—you're a strange man. I had a feeling the day we met at the Academy doors, but I didn't dwell on it. Then you appeared again at the basin, being followed by Scavengers, but I told myself it was just the beasts. But as we traveled... the feeling remained."
Zachary's heart began to hammer against his ribs. For a fleeting instant, the image of Seishan flashed in his mind. He was already beginning to see the shape of where this was going, but a lingering sense of hope forced him to ask. "What feeling?"
She looked him straight in the eyes, her voice eerily calm. "A feeling of wrongness. Something is not quite right with you. It isn't exactly dangerous, and yet... nothing squares. That's why I continued to observe you. Why I asked questions. I was trying to understand that feeling." She shook her head with a quiet, humorless laugh.
"I still don't understand you. But through my observations, I did notice something... curious." Nephis wrinkled her nose. "You have no sense of belonging. With anyone. At all."
Zachary's heart cooled instantly. The blood in his veins felt like slush.
"You try so hard to be honest. You have this easygoing attitude that Cassie and I have come to appreciate—that's why I asked you that question on the cliffs. I wanted to find the person inside." Nephis's lips curled into a smile that never reached her eyes. "You can see how well that ended."
"You act friendly with everyone, and yet... you avoid truly bonding with people." She punctuated the sentence with a scowl. "So don't come here talking about how worried you are about 'them.' You aren't even one of them."
Zachary looked at her with calm, steady eyes. The coldness had spread from his heart to his limbs, and finally, he exhaled a long, tired breath. He understood her, he really did. Back at the Academy, he had told himself he would befriend them, but he had always maintained that safety barrier. His goals, his Flaw, and his knowledge of their "story" were secrets too intimate to share.
He had grown closer to them, yes. He appreciated their company. But the truth remained: to Nephis, no matter how much he joked or helped, he still felt like a stranger—an emotional tourist keeping a calculated distance from the "characters."
He couldn't help but let out a dry, cursed chuckle. His presence had changed Nephis, but her constant wariness and the subtle influence of his [Blasphemer] Attribute had backfired spectacularly. She didn't see his distance as a burden of knowledge; she saw it as a lack of a soul.
"I understand where you're coming from. I'm sorry..." Zachary sighed, a genuine sadness touching his voice before he steeled his gaze. "But this isn't about me, Neph. It's about them."
A current of air surged from behind Nephis, the wild howl of the wind the only sound in the sudden silence. Zachary's hair whipped across his eyes; he combed it back with a rough hand, finally meeting her gaze again.
Nephis's eyes were a storm—anger, pain, and a deep, flickering disappointment burned within the grey. Finally, she let out a sigh of heavy resignation.
"You want to talk about them? Fine. Let's talk. That's my plan: rivers of fire and blood. So what? How is that worse than this pathetic, hopeless existence? I am going to kill Gunlaug. And after he is dead, when the Bright Castle is engulfed in a civil war and the Lieutenants are vying for the throne, I will kill them, too. And when I am the last one standing…"
Her eyes burned with a terrifying, white-hot light.
"…I will gather whoever is left and make a road of bones for the lucky few to reach the Gateway. That is my promise. That is the salvation I offer—a chance to return to the real world or die like a human should, standing tall with a sword in their hand, instead of living in fear like a rat!"
She looked at him, her ivory face tight with an unreadable expression.
"…I thought you, of all people, would have no problem with that. What changed?"
Zachary looked at her, his expression weary. Hearing her recite the same words he had read in the novel made the nameless feeling throb in his chest. He scratched the back of his neck, looking toward the slums.
'What did change?' if he were being honest, he could still follow her path and remain unperturbed. He might be saddened by the deaths of his friends, but his ultimate path lay beyond them anyway. So what was pushing him to do this?
"I don't know either," Zachary said with a hollow, self-deprecating laugh. "I'm just as surprised as you are, Neph."
He turned back to her. "You talk about bloodshed so easily, but there are people in the Castle and in the Slums who don't deserve that fate. Can't you—"
"Don't try to justify them," she cut him off, her voice sour and sharp. "I don't care what they've done or how they treat each other. They bear the same sin as Gunlaug. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"
Zachary clicked his tongue. He wanted to feign ignorance, to deny her the satisfaction of being right. But his Penance was a heavy weight on his soul, watching for a single lie to trigger his Flaw.
"They gave up," he answered flatly.
Nephis's eyes flared. He understood. So why was he fighting her?
"That's right." The fire in her eyes was almost maddening now. "Do you really think there was nothing Gunlaug could do to escape? No. He simply changed his mind. Why return to being a nobody when he can live like a king here? He abandoned his duty and submitted to the Spell."
Zachary frowned. She was right... and she was completely wrong. He knew Gunlaug's secret—the desperation of those early years—but he couldn't share that. Nephis was speaking from her own rigid truth.
"You're still too young, Neph," he said, his voice pained. "After you've experienced real defeat, you'll understand. Drawing a sword and sacrificing your blood in a fit of zeal is one thing. But enduring humiliation, helplessness, and persisting in the darkness? That is much, much harder."
She looked at him with open disgust. "Are you saying Gunlaug is right?"
"No. But neither are you." Zachary ruffled his hair aggressively. "You're ready to sacrifice everyone for your goal. You've already accepted their deaths."
Nephis didn't deny it. She raised her chin in a defiant glare.
"That's the problem right there. That approach," he said, pointing a finger at her. "You can't envision a future where everyone survives. You treat Cassie's vision as an absolute truth... you lack the conviction to try and change it."
Nephis looked genuinely offended. Zachary knew he was talking nonsense. The whole tragedy of the novel was the inability to escape Fate. His argument was naive, ignorant, and fundamentally "incorrect" based on the world they lived in.
"You're unbearably naive," she scowled.
"Of course I am. I'm a Fool, after all." Zachary's smile didn't reach his eyes. Anxiety began to bloom in his gut, but he pushed through it. "But there's a difference, Neph. Escaping no matter how many I sacrifice, or escaping no matter how many I save. You can change your approach."
'If my presence here has truly changed anything...' Zachary finally allowed the thought to settle. He knew the [Blasphemer] attribute had made things harder, but he was willing to bet on the spark of the change he'd seen in her.
"...Please, Neph. You've been feeding these people half-lies, turning them into zealots ready to throw their lives away. Turn that falsehood into a truth. If you're giving them hope, then go to the end of your word for them. Don't throw them away."
He was begging for something he didn't need. He was pleading for people he barely knew. He didn't know why he was doing it, but he followed the pull in his chest. If his presence had truly changed—
"I can't."
A flash of pain crossed her grey eyes, gone in a heartbeat, replaced by the frigid mask of the Changing Star.
Zachary's expression shifted instantly, the Fool in him vanishing. Cinder Eyes flared, studying her with a cold, analytical intensity. He saw the defiance. He saw the fire that had consumed whatever was left of the emotion that brewed in their conversation.
"I made a promise, Neph," Zachary said, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm register. "I won't stand by and watch you sacrifice them."
She looked at him dangerously, a mocking scoff escaping her lips. "And what? Are you going to stop me?"
The words cooled his heart. The bridge was gone. "No... but I won't be a part of it, either. I'm out."
Nephis froze. The realization hit her like a physical blow. She had come here to stop him from leaving, but her own pride and her refusal to bend had just slammed the door shut.
"What do you mean, you're out?!" she asked, her voice losing its edge and turning into something closer to panic. "You can't—"
"You can't stop me. Not anymore." Zachary looked up at the starless sky one last time and let out a mocking laugh.
'The same development...' He shook his head in disbelief. 'Is this also the work of [The Fool]?'
In exchange for Infinite Potential, Fate was supposed to shadow him, showering him with events to force his growth into the World—whatever that meant. Him being thrust into the exact same crossroads as Sunny couldn't be a coincidence. He had to admit, he hated being tethered to a script he was trying to outrun.
"You will regret this..." Nephis said at last. Her shoulders were shaking, her eyes locked on him, burning with an unbearable, nameless emotion.
"Regret?" Zachary scoffed. The word left his mouth laced with both surprise and venom. "What would someone with your upbringing know about regret?"
He knew her. Nephis wouldn't regret a thing; that was the core of her character. Unyielding. Uncompromising. Unmoving. She was the Star that brought change but remained unchanged herself. She might feel a sour, distasteful twinge about her decisions, but if they brought her a single step closer to her goal, she would repeat them gladly. After all, she was ready to condemn the human race if it meant killing Anvil and Ki Song.
Zachary, on the other hand?
He lived in regret. He regretted the deaths of Dahrio and the "Original One". He regretted making promises that grew heavier with every passing hour. He regretted being "born" into this world without his consent, away from everyone he loved. Even now, choosing the hardest possible path for people he barely knew, he already regretted the decision he was about to make.
Yes, he knew regret intimately.
"But you might be right. I'll give you that." Zachary stepped forward until he was only a breath away from her, looking down into her eyes.
She didn't flinch. Her grey eyes locked onto his crimson gaze. The difference in their height was only a few centimeters, but for the first time since he had seen her at the Academy gates... Nephis felt small.
"Something I've learned is that we always end up regretting our choices anyway," Zachary smirked, his voice dropping to a low, jagged register. "So, we might as well simply do what must be done."
The words landed with absolute finality. Nephis flinched, a microscopic tremor passing through her frame. Without another look, Zachary walked past her, heading toward the Dark City shrouded in the abyss.
The wind had finally gone quiet.
"Is it wrong?!" Nephis called out from behind him. Urgency bled through her voice, mixed with a raw, desperate emotion.
Zachary stopped for a moment, his back to her. He slowly shook his head.
"No... I don't think so," he sighed, still not turning around. "But I don't plan on burning up for a cause I don't believe in."
Even without looking at her, his sharpened senses caught the subtle shift in her posture—the way her composure finally fractured. That was all the confirmation he needed. It was clear now: Nephis knew the end of Cassie's prophecy. She knew about the Burning Wheel at the summit of the Spire.
What she and the others would do with that information was no longer his concern. He wasn't entering the ruins to escape an unavoidable future. He was going there to find the strength for his own foolish endeavor against Fate itself.
"Goodbye, Changing Star."