Chapter 25: Shifting Gears

Asher hesitated in the doorway, watching as Kaspar's mechanical fingers fidgeted against the edge of the table. The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on, but Asher stepped in anyway, unwilling to leave things unsaid.

"Kaspar…" he started, his voice soft but insistent. "Why… why are you embarrassed to even look at me?"

Kaspar flinched at the words, his head snapping up before quickly darting away again. His fingers twitched, metal scraping faintly against the wood. "Embarrassed? Me? Nah. Never!" he blurted, his voice too loud, too quick. Then, quieter, almost inaudible, he muttered, "...Ran, Asher. Left you. Me fool."

Asher blinked, confused. "Kaspar, you didn't just run. You threw a bomb at that thing while you were bleeding out! You lost a hand! You're calling yourself a fool for that?"

Kaspar let out a bitter, stuttering laugh. "Ha! Yes. Fool, coward. Big bad monster, and me? Poof. Gone! Like wind." He waved his good hand vaguely, still avoiding Asher's gaze. "Should've stayed. Should've fought. Like you."

"You think you failed?" Asher took a step closer, his confusion giving way to frustration. "Kaspar, if anyone failed, it was me. I dragged you into that fight in the first place. If I'd just run with you instead of standing my ground like an idiot, maybe you'd still have—" He cut himself off, glancing at the metal hand Kaspar was trying so hard to hide.

Kaspar's head shook violently, his voice rising in a disjointed ramble. "No! Stop! Not you—me. Left you! Stupid hand gone, stupid bomb—still useless! Should've dragged you out, not… not run!" He trailed off, his words crumbling into fragments. His mechanical fingers clenched, scraping against the table as though trying to crush it.

"You didn't leave me!" Asher snapped, stepping closer. "You saved me, Kaspar. That bomb of light bought Otto just enough time to kick ass. I'd be dead without it. Stop twisting it around."

Kaspar's good hand moved to cover his face, his voice muffled. "Still ran. Still failed." His tone was hollow now, the fight draining out of him. "Not like you. Brave, strong. Stupid, maybe. But strong."

"Strong?!" Asher laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Kaspar, I'm telling you, I should've run too. I'd trade a dozen so-called brave moments for the sense to get out alive. Next time, drag me with you, okay?"

Kaspar lowered his hand, staring at Asher like he'd just said something absurd. "Drag you? Pfft. Funny joke. You? Eat much! Too slow!" He snorted, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes now.

Asher sighed, his frustration giving way to relief. "Yeah, yeah. Call me slow all you want. Just don't you ever think you're a fool, a coward, a deadweight. Kaspar. You aren't. Not then, not now."

For a moment, Kaspar was silent, his gaze shifting to the mechanical hand resting on the table. Then, to Asher's surprise, a grin split across his face, sharp and oddly cheerful. He held up the metal hand, flexing the fingers experimentally. "Cool, though, huh? Rip, gone hand—shiny new one! Maybe do this more, eh? Lose another? Two shiny hands!"

Asher gawked at him, completely thrown by the shift. "You're… joking, right?"

Kaspar's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a strange excitement. "Joke? No joke! Look—grip like iron! Good for all sorts. Best hand now. Better than old squishy one."

Despite himself, Asher let out a huff of laughter, shaking his head. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"Unbelievable!" Kaspar agreed, his voice bright and triumphant, like he'd won some kind of contest. "Best word for me. Perfect word!"

And as the tension in the room finally broke, Asher couldn't help but think that, for all Kaspar's strangeness, he really shined far too bright.

With a sigh, Asher turned toward the door, stepping away from the cluttered space and closing it behind him. The soft click of the door latch was enough to signal the end of the conversation.

Asher's relief was short-lived, however, as Otto was standing directly by the door.

"Ah, what a coincidence seeing you here. I'm glad to see that... sorted. That was exhausting to deal with." He responded half heartedly with a hint of exhaustion.

"In any case, I believe my soup has shown my abilities in that area. Would you be so kind as to handle the current state of the kitchen?" His voice remained polite, but the request was undeniably a plea.

Asher chuckled, shaking his head. "What, you can't handle a few pots and pans now?"

"I am more than capable in many things," Otto said, his voice calm and detached, "but kitchen duties... have never been one of them. You are better suited for the task."

(three asterisks)

Asher sighed, glancing at the disorder before him—the clutter of bread, half-moldy and not, strewn about in the chaos. He shook his head and began sorting through the bread, letting the conversation slip into a comfortable silence as Otto stood there awkwardly.

"So, any explanation for my new magic healing factor?" Asher asked, his tone dry as he picked through the loaves.

Otto didn't respond immediately, his eyes moving from the simmering pot to the mess in the room. Finally, he gave a slow, almost reluctant sigh. "Ah, yes. That." His voice grew quieter, more measured. "The vampire... the one you fought. It became an item, a limited healing artifact in particular. A gem necklace, of all things. It retains some of the regenerative properties, but only to a certain extent."

Asher paused, his brow furrowing. "Wait, so you mean that necklace... healed us?"

Otto nodded slightly. "In a manner of speaking, yes. It channeled the remnants of that creature's power. It's certainly not a full-on restoration. The healing is... contained, more limited in scope than you might expect."

Asher tilted his head, still confused. "So why didn't it heal Kaspar's hand? It could have restored his..."

Otto shook his head, cutting him off with a sigh. "The necklace's powers are very specific. It can help with wounds, but only those that are still healing naturally. It cannot regenerate lost body parts, especially something as severe as Kaspar's injury. The abilities are far from perfect. It's... temperamental."

Asher's heart sank at the thought of Kaspar's loss, but Otto continued before he could speak again.

"And, well, there's more. The vampire you fought—well, not truly a vampire. It was an 'artificial' one. An unauthorized sequence 7 vampire of the Moon pathway." Otto's gaze shifted as he adjusted his stance, clearly not thrilled about what he was about to say. "It... lost control of its powers, and that's what you encountered. But that's not the end of it."

"What do you mean, not the end of it?" Asher asked, now genuinely concerned. He stopped sorting through the bread to give Otto his full attention.

Otto sighed again, looking uncomfortable. "After I... removed the necklace, I put it in the basement for the bear to play with. Trying to get it out of sight for a while. But it wasn't long before emissaries from a group known as the Sanguine arrived to collect the artifact."

Asher blinked. "Sanguine? You're telling me there's more of these... things out there?" His voice had a tremor to it, the weight of the idea crashing down on him.

"Not 'things,'" Otto corrected, his tone a little more serious now. "They're... Beyonders. Very different from what you encountered, but no less dangerous. The Sanguine are a group who specialize in this Moon pathway. They deal with creatures like that artificial vampire, seeking to reclaim what was lost and... what was left behind."

Asher's stomach dropped, a feeling of dread creeping up his spine. "So, you just… got robbed?"

Otto's expression remained grim, but there was a hint of regret. "Not exactly. They came for it, and I handed it over willingly. The Church of the God of Steam and Machinery has... surprisingly close relations with them. Their people can be unpredictable, but they're not inherently hostile. At least, not in the way you think. The Sanguine mostly deal with matters of... life, death, and...uh… mmh… oh, the spirit world!"

Asher blinked, the term catching him off guard. "The spirit world? What's that supposed to mean?"

Otto looked thoughtful for a moment, as though piecing together the fragmented memories. "The Spirit World..." he began slowly, "it's a realm of colors and abstract concepts, inhabited by spirits of various types, and serves to hold knowledge. It overlaps with our world, influencing it in subtle ways. It's also the source of all contracted creatures, just like the cloud messenger that the music box summons."

Asher frowned, trying to process what he was hearing. "So it's like... an abstract painting containing hidden knowledge?"

"Not exactly," Otto replied, shaking his head slightly. "It's its own realm thats intwined with ours. It's more like a sea of information, where the past, present, and possible future all converge. It doesn't follow normal rules of space or time. Knowledge, illusions, and spiritual manifestations can all exist in the same space. And... every person is connected to it. You see, your Astral Projection resides there, and it's probably how you obtain abstract knowledge. Divination, revelations... all of it comes from the Spirit World."

Asher, already lost, scraped a potato's skin off absentmindedly, not fully paying attention to Otto's explanation. He squinted at the vegetable, his mind wandering to the mess still scattered around the kitchen. "So... the Spirit World is where all these crazy revelations come from?" he muttered, more to himself than Otto.

"Most likely," Otto said, his voice slightly more serious now. "The Sanguine, in their abilities, often seek to interact with it. Their expertise lies in crossing the boundaries between the physical world and the Spirit World."

Asher's knife slid awkwardly through the potato as he tried to focus on what Otto was saying.

He barely heard Otto continue: "Plus damn, can they hold a grudge. You'd think living hundreds, if not thousands of years, would make you a little less... worldly."

"Huh..." Asher said absentmindedly, peeling the next potato with a little more force than necessary, just barely not nicking himself.

Otto sighed dramatically, realizing that Asher had probably tuned out a good portion of the conversation.

"..."

"Did I ever tell you what our Beyonder organization is called?" he asked, trying to fill the silence.

Asher blinked, finally looking up, his attention slowly snapping back to Otto. "No, you didn't."

"Well," Otto began, "since you were found as a Beyonder and joined the Church, you're technically an official member of the Steam and Machinery faction."

His eyes gleamed with a hint of pride. "More specifically, the Machinery Hivemind."

Asher paused, knife hovering in the air. He stared blankly at Otto for a moment before snorting. "Machinery Hivemind? That sounds like a bad sci-fi villain name."

Otto shrugged casually. "It's not great, but it gets the job done."