Arc 3, Chapter 36: Blind Spot

  Ash opened his eyes.

  A rose-pink glare flooded his vision, forcing his pupils to shrink against the sudden light.

  The sky bled in streaks of cerulean, cutting through a deep rose expanse.

  He pressed his palms against the surface beneath him.

  It felt like thick, compacted fleece that gave slightly under his weight while remaining solid.

  A dull gray smudge blocked the left side of his sight. He ignored the blur and focused with his right eye alone.

  His chest still carried a lingering heat, but the sharp, tearing agony had faded into a manageable burn.

  He pushed himself upright. His balance held.

  Voss stood nearby, beating golden sand from his sleeves with stiff, rhythmic slaps.

  Pell leaned forward to cough.

  Rowan sat with his knees pulled tight against his chest. He clamped his palms over his ears and squeezed his eyelids shut. His entire body swayed in a tight, repetitive motion, rocking forward and back against the white mist.

  Vera remained further away, her gaze locked on the empty horizon, while Orin rested on his hands and knees, drawing in heavy, ragged lungfuls of air.

  Floating cottages and gabled roofs drifted in the colored haze, anchored by massive iron chains.

  Every tether ended in an open, severed link that hung against the pink void.

  A stone archway waited a few yards ahead, leading into a hall of solid white mist.

  Ash walked toward the opening. The rest of the group fell into step behind him.

  Inside the passage, the air felt cool and lacked the grit of the previous chamber.

  Objects drifted through the space in slow, weightless rotations. A porcelain doll with a cracked forehead floated past his ear, its glassy pupils fixed on the ceiling.

  A black knight from a chess set hovered at his chest, its carved mane catching the faint light.

  The debris grew thicker as the corridor curved.

  He passed clusters of ivory dice and the stone feet of a monkey statue. A rabbit doll dangled from a frayed cord that vanished into the heights.

  As the hall bent, the arrangement became more dense.

  He saw a clock hand drifting without a face, a brass doorknob missing its frame, and three stone steps that climbed into the air and stopped.

  "How are you holding up?" Anna asked, matching his pace.

  Ash looked at her. "Better."

  They walked in silence for several yards. A cracked porcelain head drifted past his ear, rotating slowly in the pink light.

  "The medicine helped," Ash said. "Thank you."

  Anna lifted an eyebrow. "Sure."

  They navigated a cluster of floating dice before Ash spoke again. "Why did you use it on me?"

  Anna kept her gaze on the path ahead. "My brother." She paused. "You remind me of him."

  His gaze dropped to his palm.

  Anna pointed at her sword. "You read what I wanted. Same as he does."

  A wide platform stretched before them, edges curving into the void.

  The floor here was a bruised gray mist that felt firmer under Ash's boots than the white clouds.

  To his left and straight ahead, the platform ended in a sharp drop-off.

  The edge bordered a swirling pit of rose and cerulean that sank into a black void.

  A wall of wooden mannequins blocked the right side.

  They stood shoulder to shoulder, clutching spears and heavy hammers. Their painted eyes stared toward the center of the platform, and their mouths were flat, expressionless lines.

  The phalanx continued deep into the rose-colored fog, the figures repeating in a solid line until their shapes blurred into an unbroken barrier in the distance.

  Hundreds of blank white cubes covered the gray floor. The dice lay scattered across the mist, their six sides smooth and empty of any markings.

  Only one stood apart. A massive die, the size of a man's torso, sat in the center of the platform. Three black dots faced the sky.

  —

  Ash walked toward the center of the platform. The gray mist felt solid beneath his boots, though it compressed slightly with each step.

  Blank white cubes littered the floor. They looked heavy but scattered with the slightest touch of his boot.

  Ash crouched to retrieve one. The object lacked any perceptible weight. It sat in his palm like a pocket of trapped air, its six surfaces perfectly smooth with no markings.

  "They're hollow," Anna said, joining him.

  She flung a cube into the air and watched it float back down.

  Ash set his cube down and stood. He walked to the large die in the center.

  It came up to his waist. The surface had deep black dots carved into it. Three dots faced upward. This one felt different from the small cubes. It didn't move when he nudged it with his boot.

  He walked around it slowly, checking each visible face. Four. Six. One. Two. The black dots were deep pits in the white surface.

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  Ash reached out and pressed his palm against it. The surface felt cool and solid, like pressing against stone.

  Anna stood on the opposite side, arms crossed.

  Voss moved near the mannequin wall. His hand stayed close to his axe as he stared at the wooden figures.

  "Those things have real weapons," Anna called out.

  Voss nodded without looking back.

  "There is no forward," Rowan said. He remained at the very edge of the corridor, his fingers white where they gripped the archway. "There is only the drop-off and the mannequins."

  Ash kept examining the numbered die.

  "What's that big one in the middle?" Pell asked, walking closer to Anna.

  A tectonic grind tore through the air, vibrating through the mist beneath Ash's boots.

  He looked up just as the hourglass in the sky began to roll.

  The colossal glass bulbs rolled over in a heavy arc. The motion shoved a wave of compressed air toward the platform, hitting Ash with a force that rattled his ribs. His ears popped from the sudden increase in pressure.

  The rose-colored light vanished.

  An ink-black void rushed across the horizon, erasing the pink and blue streaks until the sky turned into darkness.

  Green halos ignited high above the platform. They cast a pale wash over the surface, turning the white cubes a sickly green.

  A new light flared from the right. Every mannequin now possessed pink, glowing pupils that burned with a steady intensity.

  The wooden faces remained frozen, but the hundreds of glowing circles focused on the center of the platform.

  The mist began to hum. Beneath his feet, the vibration intensified until the large cube started to rattle.

  The massive die trembled, its black pits blurring as it bounced against the gray floor.

  It jerked upward into the dark sky. Twenty feet above the platform, it spun once, faces blurring before settling into a new position.

  The echo of the grinding glass died away.

  The stillness lasted only briefly before the hundreds of white cubes began to rattle against the gray floor. They snapped upward, swarming in tight, spiraling arcs to form a rotating halo around the suspended cube.

  The cubes pulsed with light, mana flooding the hollow blocks until they hummed with energy.

  Pell's voice cracked. "Those things are loaded with mana. One hit will crush bone."

  Ash's eyes swept across the group. His hand gestured toward Anna. "Between us. Move."

  Voss stepped toward the center first.

  Pell and Orin followed in a frantic rush, dragging Vera between them until they huddled within the perimeter.

  Rowan lingered near the archway, his eyes wide as he stared at the hovering cubes.

  "Now," Ash said.

  Rowan bolted toward the group with his chin tucked low into his chest.

  Across the mist, Anna's rapier cleared its sheath in a single silver streak.

  She took her stance opposite Ash, her weight balanced while green light gleamed along her blade.

  The swarm of white blocks hung overhead like a frozen cloud.

  A single cube broke formation, whistling through the air as it aimed for the center of the group.

  Ash's arm moved in a blur. He caught the stone at head-height, his fingers clamping shut to grind the surface into a fine, cooling mist.

  The halo went still.

  Vera froze mid-breath. Orin's hand hovered inches from his face, fingers locked in place. The swarm tracked their positions but held formation.

  Voss shifted his weight.

  Another block plummeted toward him. The man staggered, raising his hands in a frantic guard.

  Ash intercepted the projectile before it could reach him, the impact vibrating through his knuckles as the stone shattered into white grit.

  The silence that followed was broken by the frantic slap of boots against the mist.

  Vera bolted.

  She sprinted for the ledge, her eyes wide as she tried to escape the perimeter.

  Three cubes peeled away from the swarm to track her.

  Anna erased the distance between them in a series of low, powerful strides.

  She caught Vera by the shoulder and heaved her backward, sending the woman stumbling toward the safety of the group.

  Anna launched into the air with explosive force.

  In a single motion, she transformed into a rotating blur of silver and shadow.

  The first cube hissed beneath her rising heels.

  While arching her back mid-flight, she allowed the second block to pass a fraction of an inch from her ribs.

  She pulled her limbs tight to her core for the final spin, letting the third stone whistle through the empty air where her neck had been a heartbeat before.

  The three projectiles continued their flight, arcing back into the dark sky to rejoin the halo.

  Anna landed in a low crouch at the very edge of the void.

  The swarm shifted its focus to Ash.

  Five blocks dove in rapid succession. His right hand intercepted the first at his jaw, the stone crumbling into dust against his palm.

  He caught the second at his ribs. When the third aimed for his waist, he drove his elbow sideways to meet the impact, the stone splintering against his bone.

  Two thin barriers of dark mana materialized inches from his throat and shin. The remaining cubes struck the energy and disintegrated into white powder that coated his boots. Ash remained exactly where he had started.

  The white fragments dissolved in the air around him.

  Across the gray platform, Anna stood up slowly, her gaze locked onto his.

  Anna’s gaze narrowed, locking on the void behind Ash’s shoulder.

  She lunged forward with a burst of speed that sent the gray mist swirling around her boots.

  Ash dropped a plate of violet mana at his knee to meet her path.

  A sharp crack echoed as her heel struck the energy.

  She catapulted herself into the air, her body coiling to unleash a rotational strike. Seven cubes descended in a tight cluster to meet her.

  Her rapier transformed into a silver circle, the edge biting into the first three stones with a series of rhythmic snaps.

  She maintained the momentum, her blade carving through the remaining four mid-flight. White grit rained from her position as she cleared the high arc.

  Below her, six cubes arrowed toward Ash's ribs.

  He thrust his palm forward. "Dark Gate: Void Fire."

  A wave of ink-black flame surged out, hissing as it swallowed the projectiles.

  The heat licked at the mist before the fire vanished, leaving only scorched air behind.

  Anna began her descent.

  Ash placed a flat barrier of mana to catch her heels.

  She landed with a heavy thud, her knees bending to absorb the force before the violet light evaporated.

  White dust settled over her shoulders. She straightened, her blade still leveled at the thinning halo above.

  Gravity claimed the remaining cubes.

  They lost their light and tumbled into the gray mist, settling as a silent pile of white blocks.

  The metallic click of Anna’s rapier echoed through the platform as she locked it into her sheath.

  She stepped beside Ash, her chest rising and falling in deep, measured cycles as she tracked his gaze toward the sky.

  The large die hung twenty feet above them. The face pointing toward the floor showed four black pits.

  The stone remained perfectly still.

  "Is that the end of it?" Anna asked.

  Ash watched the suspended stone. He didn't have an answer for her.

  Anna raised her palm between them, fingers spread and held at head-height.

  Ash looked at the open hand, his gaze lingering on her palm for a heartbeat before he met her eyes.

  He remained still, his own hands hanging relaxed at his sides as he waited for her to move.

  Anna held the position while the silence stretched. She eventually let her arm drop, her lips quirking into a small smile as she turned toward the edge of the platform.

  A sudden motion cut through the gray light behind Anna.

  Ash reacted instantly, his fingers digging into her shoulder to yank her violently out of the path of the strike.

  The steel edge of a knife hissed through the space she had occupied a heartbeat before.

  Anna stumbled against Ash's arm, her boots scuffing the mist as she spun to see her attacker.

  Rowan stood three paces away, the dagger vibrating in his white-knuckled grip.

  His chest heaved in heavy hitches, and a thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead as he stared at them with a frantic, unstable intensity.

  Pressure clamped down on Ash’s head, popping his ears with a sharp click.

  Above him, the suspended die began to rattle. The white block blurred as its rotation intensified, turning into a smooth, vibrating cylinder that whistled against the air.

  It snapped to a halt. Six black pits stared down at the gray mist.

  The grinding scream of stone returned. High above, the hourglass bulbs swung in a wide, tectonic arc.

  A wall of compressed air slammed into the platform, forcing Ash to brace his legs as the impact rattled through his chest. The pressure spiked again, his eardrums thumping painfully.

  A wave of blood-red light flooded the void. It swept across the sky in a single, massive tide, briefly staining the floating ruins before an ink-black shadow chased it down. The darkness returned, heavy and thick, leaving only a few dim green halos to light the platform.

  Dry wood creaked to the right. The jointed limbs of the mannequins groaned as they moved for the first time.

  The entire phalanx stepped forward, their hollow wooden feet hitting the mist with a series of rhythmic, heavy thuds.

  They advanced four paces and stopped.

  The ring of painted eyes and leveled spears had drawn closer, cutting away the outer edge of the arena and leaving much less room to move.