Between exhaustion, wounds and having to haul four limp bodies, the Hero's return from the Fissure took much longer than the journey out. The one surviving knight insisted that her comrades remain in their armor, so they had to frequently stop and rotate who was carrying which body. Complaints about having to carry Emma stopped real quick. The only one exempt from body-carrying duty was Lexicon, who carried the sack of otherworldly technology. They barely made it back to the compound. Night had long since fallen; creatures prowled in the shadows, drawn to the smell of blood, held at bay only by the party's large size. The Hero was very glad to not have to camp out there. They stopped and put their burdens down just inside the gate. While the rest of the team caught their breath, the Hero and Amadeus went in search of assistance. They split up. Amadeus headed towards the knights' camp to bring the sad news and ask for body bearers. Meanwhile, the Hero went to the Chamber of Destiny. He turned on the light beside the door so the mecheye could see his face, then went inside. He walked as quietly as he could in his armor and knocked so lightly that the sleeping people on the other side probably hadn't even heard.

He had just raised his fist to knock again when he heard shuffling. Ostromir opened the door in nightclothes and whispered, "Hero?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Ostromir turned and called to Vseslava. She joined him at the door. "Why do you wake us?" she asked.

"It's a long story. Here's the short version: Emma got involved and wound up embodied and unconscious. My team brought her back. I need you to help me carry her inside this building before other people find her."

Ostromir and Vseslava changed into regular clothes and raced out to do just that. They found the Hero's team standing guard. The bodies of the two knights were gone; Demlas confirmed that they had carried those bodies away so the receiving knights would not see the others. While Ostromir and Vseslava picked up Emma's makeshift sling, the Hero took a moment to look down at the fourth makeshift sling, which held a fallen friend. "I'm sorry, Glory. You will be honored as a hero, I promise."

The Hero and Amadeus followed Ostromir and Vseslava back to the Chamber. Demlas led the rest of the original team in bringing Glory's body to a resting place in preparation for a hero's funeral. Lexicon and Wernicke returned to their camps. They all laid themselves to rest and sought what sleep they could in preparation for the day to follow.

.

The next morning, Ostromir and Vseslava woke the Hero up. He struggled into a vertical posture, groaning. "We can help you along, if you need it," Ostromir offered. "I'm sorry to be waking you at all, but the knight who was with you… She's raising quite a commotion."

"Where's Emma?" The Hero asked.

"In our apartment. For now."

"And Ama?"

Ostromir and Vseslava looked at each other. "He was arrested yesterday, shortly after you left," Vseslava said.

"He persuaded Emma to go to the Fissure. That was taken as treason," Ostromir added.

The Hero looked down. "We need to break the news to my team that Researcher Emma was really the emissary in disguise. I told them yesterday that I suspected she was hiding something. We just need to reveal what it was."

Ostromir snapped his fingers. "We can claim we were fooled by her all along until Ama revealed her real identity."

"Pin the blame on Ama." That would be convenient, but the Hero wasn't happy with it.

"Let's go," Ostromir urged. "We need to do this before Maria breaks out her axe."

They hurried to the engineers' break room. Ostromir explained that Ama was imprisoned in the main meeting room, so they could not use that space. The Chamber of Destiny did not have a prison and they did not want to publicize Ama's arrest, so wrapping a double layer of chains around the legs of the big table was the best they could do. Ama claimed to have no hard feelings about this arrangement. Even so, the Hero wondered if they were doing the right thing. Secrets piling on top of secrets formed a wobbly tower that had to come crashing down at some point.

In the break room, they found Maria and Organa eye to eye, both leaning forward over the central table. The other head technomancers watched like hawks. Warlic and Jaania kept to a corner, Jaania writing on a notepad. Demlas stood behind Maria. There was clearly a tense discussion going on. Fortunately, they had caught it at a low simmer. Maria straightened and shot a glare at the Hero. "Are you ready to do what needs to be done, Hero?"

"Just as soon as Ostromir and Vseslava give me the answers they promised," the Hero replied. He stepped aside, giving his old friends the floor.

Vseslava touched her partner's arm. Ostromir held back. Vseslava turned to Organa and asked, "Has the Hero's team been informed of the events that occurred shortly after they left?"

"No," Organa replied cautiously.

Vseslava turned to Maria. "Ama has been arrested for helping the emissary infiltrate this facility. Since shortly after the theft, the emissary has been walking among us and enjoying access to confidential information, even to the Soul Puller itself."

The Hero widened his eyes. "What?! But… But why does the Soul Puller even still exist? Why isn't this whole entire compound ash?"

"Wait, wait," Demlas pleaded, his face pale. "Wouldn't we have detected her? The magic detector -"

"Is a device whose creation she was involved in," Vseslava replied. "She must have secretly enchanted it to ignore her."

"Creation she was…involved in? Back up. Start at the beginning," the Hero said.

Vseslava slunk back to Ostromir's side. He brushed off his vest and sighed. "I'm sorry to bring this news, but… Emma, that charming young woman who's been helping us? She was actually the emissary in disguise."

Demlas stumbled backward and sank into a seat, looking first shocked and then terrified. No doubt the thought of having to break this news to Winstance filled him with panic. Maria crossed her arms. "The esteemed Hero, savior of Lore, spoke to the emissary several times and never suspected a thing?"

"I had suspicions!" the Hero shot back. "I knew she was hiding something. But my instincts told me she wasn't secretly an evil villain, so I decided to ask about it after the saboteur was found."

"Your instincts were wrong."

"No," Ostromir said. "If she was an evil villain, like he said, the Soul Puller and all the rest of this facility would have been obliterated. The fact that she destroyed nothing, harmed no one, and assisted the very people who most desire her destruction raises some very important questions that we can't in good conscience ignore."

Demlas stood up. "I ran a successful tavern once. I know people. I spoke to Emma, and she -" He shook his head. "She wasn't a cruel person. I would have known. And she sacrificed herself to stop Akanthus from transmuting his foreign tech, and when she got a twenty-second burst of consciousness she chose to spend it healing the Hero." He held his head. "I thought I knew who and what the emissary was. I thought the world's greatest minds figured her out long ago." He turned in circles, looking at the Hero, at Warlic and Jaania, at the head technomancers. "Why didn't any of you know she could do this?"

They had no good answer for him. Jaania closed her notepad and returned it to her pocket. "The answer to that question has to do with soul magic. We didn't realize what was possible because we were missing half the puzzle."

Demlas clenched his fists. In a deathly calm voice, he told Organa, "Bring Ama out. I want him to explain to Winstance that the woman Winstance fought so hard to return to never existed." Organa held a key out in Vseslava's direction. Vseslava took it. She left to fetch Ama, and Demlas left to fetch Winstance.

Maria resumed her debate with Organa. "So the emissary has greater powers than previously thought. All the more reason to destroy it as soon as possible."

"No," Organa replied forcefully. "Your grief makes you hotheaded and hasty. Right now, the emissary is not a threat. We must seize this opportunity to learn as much as we can."

"Your insistence on 'learning' will cost us our chance at action!"

"And your insistence on action will cost us our chance to learn what we will never be able to learn any other way."

Maria looked at all the head technomancers with her nostrils flaring. "You techies benefit from Lore in its current state. You'll only assist with saving the world as long as you get something from it. Selfish, cowardly fools!"

Organa looked ready to reply in kind. Tenevos seized her arm. "Don't let an ignorant young knight sway you. She's speaking out of grief."

"Don't you dare use my friends' deaths as an excuse to ignore me!" Maria shook all over. Her fingers kept twitching toward her axe.

The Hero darted in front of her. "Woah, woah, woah. Let's not kill each other. We might have our disagreements -"

"They are traitors who will see Lore destroyed in service of their selfish agendas!"

"Maria!" His bark temporarily stopped her. The Hero put on his sternest face. "Making enemies out of people who disagree with you is not a heroic thing to do."

Tears came to her eyes, but she refused to shed them. "You dishonor my comrades by using their deaths in this fashion." She turned to leave.

"Dame Maria," Organa barked. "I order you to remain in this room."

Maria stopped, but did not turn around. "So that I don't save Lore."

The Hero said, "Killing Emma might turn out to be the right thing to do, but you need to do it for the right reasons. If you kill her in the spirit of justice with a full understanding of the facts, you'll know you did the right thing and your grief for your friends will be eased. But if you do it in rage out of desire for revenge, you won't feel any better. Is that the sort of person your friends wanted you to become? Is that the sort of person they chose to be friends with in the first place?"

Maria's clenched fists trembled. Ostromir put a gentle arm over her shoulders. "Please, Maria. Sit. Think clearly for just five minutes. We have five minutes."

"How do you know that?"

Warlic said, "This twenty-second span of consciousness that Demlas mentioned was almost certainly caused by magic. Use of magic is the only thing that can awaken her in her current state."

Maria allowed herself to be led to a seat on the far side of the room. Ostromir stayed with her. He sighed. "I understand the temptation for simple answers. I, too, wish all of our dilemmas could be solved inside of five minutes. But life doesn't work that way."

"For the record." Parsifal, the leader of the Lever, looked around to make sure he had everyone's attention. "I admit to having sometimes prioritized short-term gain over the long-term good of Lore. But right now, in this moment, I do not believe I am doing so. If the Chamber of Destiny does not live up to its name, if the fate of Lore is not decided here and now, then the purpose of my existence and everything I do will be gone. If we let the emissary go, we consign ourselves to living as walking shadows." He turned to the other head technomancers. "As tempting as it is to believe, we do not actually benefit from Lore in its current state."

Ministera, Baromir and Jorda agreed. Baromir asked, "What good does our technology do if the people we make it for wither away?"

Vseslava returned with Ama in tow. Attention turned to him. Ama noticed it immediately. "What am I here for?" he asked.

"You are here to explain that Emma isn't real to a young man who fell in love with her," the Hero replied. Ama gulped.

The headmistress followed not a second after he said that. "A most interesting challenge," she said, shutting the door. "You offer many brilliant theories, Soulmage, but what use are they in practice?"

"We're about to find out," Ama muttered nervously. He whispered something inaudible.

"Tried harder at what?" the headmistress asked.

"My soul was badly damaged by healing Jaania. Initially, I had no choice but to retreat from the world. But then, I… I should have tried harder to become part of the world once more. I should have coped with my fears and given other people a chance to know me, even if most of them would have laughed in my face." Ama crossed the room and gave Warlic a hug. Warlic stiffened in surprise, then hugged him back. "I'm sorry for leaving you behind twenty years ago, Warlic. It was wrong of me. I did it because I didn't trust you, because I was afraid you wouldn't help me. I've been trying to be better than that ever since. I have not been as successful as I wanted to be, but I'm still trying." He released Warlic and stepped back. "You've never been anything but a friend to me. Nobody in this world ever has, and yet…"

Warlic smiled. He had tears in his eyes. "I understand."

"What use are all my theories? What good am I?" Ama spoke in a tone not of defeat, but of gathering strength. "Can't wait to find out."

They waited only seconds before Demas returned. Winstance immediately went up to Ama. "You have news about Emma? Has something happened to her?"

"Let's sit," Ama replied. They sat at the central table. "What's your name?"

"Winstance."

"Winstance." Ama paused. "You know, you don't really know much about her. You and the others haven't seen her for more than a few hours cumulatively, have you?"

"I know enough," Winstance replied. "I know she's beautiful, and sweet, and gentle."

"What do you know about the emissary?"

Winstance was caught off guard. Ama had to repeat the question again. "Well… I know that the emissary was created twenty years ago for the purpose of ending magic. It's spent the past twenty years fulfilling that goal. Um… It's a bunch of soul threads woven into the Mana Core, and whenever anyone or anything uses magic it severs their connection to the Core, causing their soul to wither. If the magic user is sentient, a ghostly image appears next to them as a warning."

"Allow me to offer an alternate interpretation," Ama said. "The emissary is a human soul woven into the Mana Core. Turns out the Mana Core is not just full of mana; it's also full of powerful soul energies. Her threads were nearly shredded. The only way that she could save herself was to bring the use of magic to a screeching halt. Whenever anyone uses magic, they send a burst of soul energy straight into the Mana Core, jostling her shredded soul. She unplugs in order to protect herself. The magic user's soul threads unravel, releasing a steady stream of soul energy. If the magic user is sentient, this stream is strong enough to heal her. A portion of her threads, as many as she can possibly send, gather around to absorb it. Twenty years of this healed her soul somewhat. Then I appeared. I release a sufficiently strong stream of energy all the time. She had no more need for unraveling souls, completed her healing, and now possesses the strength to resume her original mission. Her mission was not to put an end to magic. The true purpose for Jaania weaving her soul into the Mana Core was to help people."

"You're saying the emissary isn't evil?"

"I'm saying she's beautiful, and sweet, and gentle."

It took several seconds for Winstance to get it. He drew back. "No."

"'Fraid so."

Winstance looked for support. The Hero shook his head. Demlas studied his boots. Winstance gasped. "Emma…was the emissary in disguise all along?"

"Her appearance and backstory were false," Ama said. "However, she needed to fool some very keen eyes, and she's not a trained actress. The only way that she could do that was by telling the truth. Her mild-mannered persona is real; I would be very surprised if it's not the personality she used to have when she was much younger. She really is the sort of person she claimed to be. She really does want everything she said she wanted. She really does care for you. She's not a researcher, but she is your friend."

Winstance took deep and ragged breaths. "I wanted to ask her to dinner."

"If you did, she'd probably accept, as long as she thought it wouldn't result in any harm to you."

Winstance sniffled. He shook his head and pulled his shaking hands into his lap. Watching his heart break made the Hero's chest hurt. Warlic grimaced. Organa looked away. Ama took deep breaths to calm himself. Vseslava sat next to Winstance and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. He shook his head again. "I need to go." Vseslava took his hand and escorted him out.

The door clicked shut. There was a beat of silence. "Little was accomplished," the headmistress said.

"No," Ama disagreed. "He won't have a heavy burden of guilt, shame and self-doubt to carry. That is a great accomplishment."

"My turn." Maria went to the table and sat where Winstance had sat. "You've been helping her. You still are. What'd she promise you?"

Ama shook his head. "I don't do anything for promises. I demand my rewards immediately. Being around Emma is inherently rewarding because like it or not, the fate of Lore hinges on her actions. Powerful currents of soul energy swirl around her. I couldn't call myself a soulmage if I was not drawn to that."

"She empowers you and you protect her. Classic quid pro quo. You'll serve her interests even at the expense of Lore, won't you?"

Ama shook his head again. "That's impossible. The era of slow, horrible withering is over. Either she will die or some way will be found for her to coexist with Lore. There's no other option."

Maria obviously wanted to continue venting her anger on him. But more footsteps sounded outside. The headmistress stepped away from the door just in time to avoid Lexicon. Lexicon's method of securing confidential material was very simple: hold onto it at all times. Lexicon had carried the sack of otherworldly technology all the way back, rested with it in their lap, brought it to their camp, slept with it underneath their bed covers, and carried it now. This was why the Hero had entrusted them with the technology; no amount of pleading, arguing or threatening could persuade Lexicon to let another technomancer sneak a peek. Judging from their tired look, they had already endured quite a lot of that. "Has a decision been reached regarding the foreign technology?" they asked.

"You can put it down on that table," the Hero said. After receiving a confirmation nod from the head technomancers, Lexicon finally released their burden. The Hero took the devices out of the sack and laid them out. They were all small black boxes with lights and sometimes glass screens. They didn't look very exciting to the Hero, but who knew what technomancers might be able to make of them. "I see one option: melt them down."

Organa nodded. "That is the only way to be sure."

"Or we could make Ama take them back where they come from," Maria said.

"Ama? Can that be done?" The Hero wasn't optimistic. Ama's presence had so far made everything he touched more complicated and difficult. There was no reason to expect that trend to reverse now.

Ama didn't answer. The Hero, and everyone else, turned to him. He stared at the devices with an unreadable expression. Then his eyes clenched, and tears slid down his cheeks. He sobbed. One sob was followed by several, all of them rattling through his body, causing his shoulders to heave and his inhales to become quick and gasping. The Hero didn't know what to make of it. As far as he could tell, there was no reason for Ama to lose his composure. Were the devices causing it?

"Ama? Are you alright?" Ostromir asked.

Ama gasped for air. "I…I cry…whenever a powerful stream of soul energy hits me." He whimpered. Through his tears, he gazed mournfully at the devices.

The Hero saw something. Every hair on his body stood on end. His head jerked sideways, fixing his gaze on the otherworldly technology. As if they were only holograms, the devices flickered. Once. Twice. Then they flickered away and did not return.

.

She woke up suddenly, as she had before. This time, it was Jaania who poured soul energy through her threads. As Emma blinked at the ceiling, Jaania carefully steered her thoughts onto the intel Emma needed. The otherworldly technology was gone, returned to its native world. Ama was not. He lay unconscious on the ground to Emma's right. As Emma raised herself into a sitting position, Jaania remembered Maria's anger. If Emma could not produce a way for herself to coexist with Lore, the young knight would kill her.

Emma's new heart pounded in fear. She would rather unravel than go to Death's Realm. Perhaps other souls found that realm peaceful, but given her history with immobility and powerlessness she would find it torturous. Fate had to come to her aid now. It simply had to. She couldn't even consider the possibility that it wouldn't. If that happened, she would be destroyed for good.

Which, according to Ama, was a sign that the scenario she imagined would not come to pass. Right? Was she interpreting his advice correctly? Face to face with Death's Realm, Emma was terrified. She didn't feel all-powerful. She felt like a small child.

Jaania sent a burst of frustration. Emma realized someone was speaking to her. Demlas. "Why's she not looking at me?" Demlas asked someone else.

"I can't go there." Emma's voice sounded like that of a scared child. This time, she didn't care. "Death's Realm is… It would be like the ice…" She turned to her right, grabbed Ama's shoulder and shook him hard enough to hurt him.

"Aggh!" he cried out. He rolled away and sat up. "What? What's happening?!" He looked all around frantically. When he saw her face, he went still. "Emma? What's wrong?"

When was the last time she had shown fear on her face? It had been a long time, hadn't it? Why was she doing it now? Emma looked down. "I'm…even more vulnerable to soul energy than I was before. The forces can only travel along my threads. They can't disperse sideways." Fear was racing through her at top speed with little ability to escape. If this continued, the effects on her threads would be devastating. She realized the devastation had already begun; the fear she felt could not have come from outside, so it must have been liberated from within. She had only minutes to save herself.

Ama touched her shoulders. "You can handle it, Em. Whatever it is, I know you can deal with it."

He meant well, but the energy he emitted bounced right off of her. Tears came to her eyes. Why had she awoken him? Whether he was awake or not, she was on her own. She pushed him away and tried to think clearly. How could she possibly think clearly under these circumstances? She was doomed!

Ama went to Jaania's side and gently touched the hand she was casting her levitation spell with. He whispered to her. The energy flowing through Emma turned calmer. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried again. If only the energy wasn't so concentrated! If only it could disperse sideways!

Others in the room conversed. They were pessimistic. The knight prepared to draw her axe.

Emma's eyes flew open. The solution was blindingly obvious. Fate was practically shaking her by the shoulders and shouting in her face, and still she had nearly missed the message. "Ama!" He left Jaania and returned to her side. She held out a hand and channeled mana. Blue mist formed in her palm. Ama looked at the mist, then up at her. He laughed. The mist lit up with golden sparks.

All murmurs and whispers stopped. Emma generated more mist and he channeled more soul energy. Golden light spread as thread after thread formed. "Enough," she said. She identified the part of her body where Jaania's soul energy was entering - her left knee - and wove the new threads onto it, wrapping them securely around her own projecting threads. The incoming soul energy immediately spread sideways. Emma lost the ability to perceive Jaania's thoughts. She had only the vaguest sense that something was happening. Her solid-mana body made it so difficult to enter her soul that almost all of the incoming energy preferred to spread into the patch instead.

"It's working," she announced. Then she fell over.

Or would have, if Ama hadn't caught her. He held her up as she wondered what was going on. What was she trying to do again? Did she care? She felt so tired.

"Emma. Emma! Mana. More mana."

She needed several seconds to understand what those words meant. She held up a hand and generated mana mist. She didn't know or care about why she generated it. She didn't know or care why the mist turned gold. She stared at the growing lump of thread, not comprehending what it was. A few threads snagged on her wrist, on one of her soul threads that protruded from there. More energy flowed into her. She raised her other hand and began to weave. She wove the threads in a simple criss-crossing pattern down her arm, over her elbow, up to her shoulder, and spreading across her body from there. Her tiredness eased. She wove more and more thread, even went back to fill in some skimpy patches, until Ama groaned. Then she stopped both of her actions.

They leaned on each other, she weak from lack of soul energy, he strained from channeling too much. She listened to his panting while watching the new threads buzz. They vibrated strongly. Some of those vibrations traveled into her. They kept her conscious, but she still felt awfully tired.

"Emma?" Warlic asked. "Jaania and I will use magic now. Tell us how it feels." They combined their strength to levitate a nearby chair.

"I can tell that something's happening, but not what," she muttered. "It's very faint."

"Try something sudden, like shooting a fireball," Ama said. Warlic and Jaania lowered the chair, then Jaania shot a crystal of ice across the room.

"Muffled," Emma reported.

Ama held her up more securely. "Sounds like your new exosoul turns bursts of energy into a stream. You can handle a stream."

"Wouldn't a worldful of active magic use degrade those threads?" Warlic asked.

Emma channeled a palm-sized amount of raw mana and forced a burst of vibration through her hand. The mana sparked gold. Lowering her hand and sinking into Ama's arms, she said, "If wear outpaces restoration, I'll volunteer for the axe." She laid her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes and went to sleep.