Yoshua and Marcus sat in one of Ibris' finest transports, gliding through the decaying veins of District 2. The city outside was a carcass, its bones picked clean by time and neglect. Once a hub of activity, now the district sagged under the weight of disrepair—ancient neon lit buildings hollowed out, their facades crumbling into relics of a forgotten era.

Figures lurked in the shadows, halfbreeds and humans alike, their eyes dull, their movements slowed by hunger. Neon ads flickered above, stuttering promises no one believed. A broken sign cast jagged shadows over a quiet deal, credits for a vial, powder passed between trembling fingers. The city's dying pulse beat in moments like this.

Inside the transport, silence weighed heavy. Yoshua had not initially wanted to come, but with Marcus' security absent in the Underworld, he agreed to accompany him.

Marcus sat with his eyes closed, undisturbed, as if the rot outside did not exist.

But after finding Kaya and Mazi together, Yoshua welcomed the excuse. It gave him distance from them after what he had stumbled upon.

It wasn't something Yoshua was ready to face. He had no idea where he fit in Kaya's life now. Only ten years older—he wasn't cut out to be her parent. He wasn't even sure she needed one. Better to leave it alone and focus on what he could handle.

They had asked Ibris to come with them.

Ibris refused outright. No debate. Yoshua did not push. There was no point moving a mountain that had already chosen its place. Ibris had walked away from the Grand Citadel before the war, shedding his title of acolyte like dead skin. Whatever bitterness lingered had long since hardened into contempt.

Yoshua had his own doubts about the Atlantean state religion, but Ibris loathed it.

"It's a joke," he would say. "An opiate for the masses. Nothing more."

Once, in a drunken moment, he went further and claimed the Gab Nori was only ancient Atlantean tech, a relic of an A.I. they could never decrypt.

"The mystery only exists because no one understands it."

To Ibris, the faith he once served had become a farce, a machine draped in divinity. The idea of stepping into a temple again was unthinkable. That bitterness only deepened when he had joined the King's Army during the civil war. As commander of the rebellion's first battalion, Ibris became a war hero. Some thought he fought for halfbreed rights. Yoshua knew better. Ibris wanted more than justice—he wanted to burn the Queen's reign and her religion to the ground.

But when the Queen fell, the faith remained. The newly crowned King Erilim saw its value, kept it alive for politics' sake. He didn't believe in it. Most didn't. But religion had the power to make even the faithless kneel.

Yoshua hadn't expected Marcus to ask for a visit to the temple. It did not fit. Marcus was never religious. Faith meant believing in the unseen, and Marcus lived by logic, precision, and control. Yet here they were. Marcus had always been a mystery, guarding parts of himself from everyone. Those hidden depths still fueled the mistrust Yoshua and Ibris carried toward him.

Yoshua touched his chest as the transport glided through the streets of District 2. The IV system Joher and Dr. Dubay created was working. The moment the liquid hit his veins, relief came fast, almost overwhelming in its intensity. His wound stopped bleeding, healing aggressively, pushing his body forward. For the first time in too long, he wasn't waiting for death. He was wondering what came next.

The silence stretched.

Finally, Yoshua broke it.

"Marcus," he said, "why are we going to a temple?"

Marcus didn't react. Didn't blink. He sat motionless, his military-grade tablet beside him, untouched. Head tilted against the seat, eyes closed, face blank. Neon lights flickered across his sharp features, his strong jaw, and the silver threaded through his auburn hair. He looked untouched by the chaos outside, breathing slow and deliberate, as if attuned to something beyond the present moment.

Where are you, Marcus?

Yoshua frowned but let the silence stand. Marcus was elsewhere.

The transport slowed, then stopped. Its low hum faded into stillness.

I guess this is it.

Yoshua shifted his gaze outside. The Temple of Ashurban. An ancient relic wedged between the high-rises. Legend said it was the first temple built in the Underworld, one of twelve raised by the ancient Atlanteans. The others had fallen to time, claimed by vagrants and crime rings, turned into brothels and black-market hubs. But not this one.

The Temple of Ashurban stood untouched, a sanctuary of Nori reverence. Frozen in time, resisting the neon chaos pressing in around it.

Its weathered stone facade was etched with bioluminescent glyphs that shimmered green and blue. Towering pillars framed the entrance, carved with glowing symbols lit by flickering panels. At the center, massive black double doors bore shifting emblems that seemed alive beneath the holographic ads.

High-rises loomed around it, their mirrored windows reflecting the skyline. In the narrow courtyard, offerings of flowers, scrawled prayers, and glowing shards of tech were scattered. They were a testament to the few believers who still came.

Marcus opened his eyes.

"Did you say something?" he asked, as if waking from a deep sleep.

Yoshua hesitated, thought about repeating his question, then shook his head.

"Ah. There it is," Marcus said, eyes on the towering obsidian doors. He turned. "Are you coming?"

"No," Yoshua answered. "I'm not much for Nori religion."

Marcus blinked, surprised, rubbing the back of his head. "Really? I always took you for a devout man."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Yoshua said briskly. "I am a Kahkati tribesman. We are devoted to the Great Mother."

"Ah, yes," Marcus said. "The Great Mother. Not quite the same as our Ava Nori, is she?" He glanced at the carvings on the temple doors.

"Not too different either," Yoshua replied curtly. He was not in the mood to debate religion.

Another long silence. 

"And what does the Kahkati tribe think about the Gab Nori?" Marcus asked.

Is this curiosity or a test? 

With Marcus, it was always hard to tell.

Yoshua paused and chose his words carefully.

"The Kahkati believe most technology is evil," he replied firmly. "In our tribe, it's believed technology brings a sickness to the soul—"

"So the Gab Nori is considered evil?" Marcus cut in, incredulous.

"I didn't say that," Yoshua replied calmly. "The Kahkati tradition is as old as the Nori religion. There's respect, but our people keep their distance from the Gab Nori, as they do from most technology."

Marcus grew thoughtful, his gaze distant. "I suppose they would." It was as if he was only now grasping the depth of Kahkati beliefs. "There are similar tribal groups in Alemuria," he murmured, more to himself than to Yoshua. "I wonder if there's a connection."

"Perhaps. People migrate," Yoshua said. He knew that truth well. He paused, his sharp gaze settling on Marcus. "Why are you here today?"

Marcus shook his head, then paused. "As you know, we've been trying to figure out how best to treat Geshar. It's safe to assume he was used as a fuel source for the obelisk in the South."

Yoshua's mind flashed back to that day, to the horrific state they had found Geshar in and the chaos that followed.

"I've been researching the link between ancient Atlantean technology and halfbreed blood," Marcus continued. "One of Ibris' contacts suggested there might even be a connection between the ancient sky gods and halfbreeds."

Yoshua raised an eyebrow.

That was news to him.

"I've been working with a scholar at Bahyan University, Zack Adar. Brilliant guy," Marcus said. "We've been cross-referencing research papers, some only recently declassified." He paused, pensive. "What's strange is how often these studies reference the Gab Nori verses."

Yoshua's ear twitched.

Marcus was telling the truth, wasn't he?

Yet something in Yoshua's body, instinct or otherwise, signaled doubt.

Marcus sat for a moment, lost in thought. Then he continued. "Zack sent me a series of verses to cross-reference. We're hoping they might hold clues, something to help us understand Geshar's condition. Maybe even how to treat it."

He's at this temple for research? 

But something about Marcus didn't sit right.

Yoshua gave a short grunt. "Okay."

Marcus nodded. "Alright, then. Hold tight. I'll be back shortly." He turned and hurried into the temple.

Yoshua stayed in the transport, scanning the streets for trouble. A canine halfbreed passed by, tall and lean, a patched cloak draped over his frame. His tail swayed low, brushing the grimy pavement. Yoshua tracked him until he slipped into an alley and vanished.

To Yoshua's surprise, the silence broke with the sharp ping of Marcus' tablet.

Marcus forgot his tablet? That was unlike him.

Yoshua glanced at the device, hesitating. The notification pressed at him. The screen glowed with a message from Ibris:

"Have a list of Khoraz facilities. Let's use the Nexus Umbra system. Might help track Esa's movements."

Yoshua sighed. His hand hovered over the tablet before he finally picked it up.

Had Marcus left it on purpose, or simply forgotten? Hard to tell.

Tucking the tablet under his arm, Yoshua stepped out of the transport and entered the temple.

The grand foyer was hushed. Flickering votive lights cast a soft glow on polished black marble. The walls were carved with intricate scenes from ancient Nori traditions. Two halfbreeds knelt near the far walls, heads bowed in prayer before ornate reliefs of the old Nori Queen, believed by many to be a living image of Ava Nori herself.

Pushing through another set of towering doors, Yoshua entered the inner sanctum. The contrast hit him immediately. Pristine. Sacred. Untouched by time. A world away from the crumbling streets of District 2. At the far end stood a massive statue of Ava Nori, her outstretched hands carved in glowing white stone, radiating power.

Beneath her stood a raised dais with an altar. On it lay the Gab Nori, a small metallic tablet.

Marcus stood before it, both hands pressed firmly to its surface. Yoshua knew how rare this was. For a common Atlantean, access to the Gab Nori was nearly impossible, especially in the Underworld. This was not ordinary privilege. It was sky god privilege. Few could enter the inner sanctum. Fewer still could touch the Gab Nori.

And whatever Marcus was doing was not ordinary either.

He stood unnaturally still, rigid, head tilted back, eyes rolled upward, almost inhuman. The Gab Nori emitted a low, steady hum that grew louder, vibrating through the sanctum with an unsettling resonance. Yoshua had never heard a Gab Nori make that sound before. He leaned against the wall, silent, observing. Marcus was not just interfacing with the device. He was processing something far beyond human understanding.

Beside him stood an owl halfbreed, the temple priestess, hands clasped below her chest. Feathered arms shimmered faintly under the sanctum's low lights. Long black hair framed sharp features, golden owl-like eyes locked on Marcus with intense focus. Her robes were simple yet regal, their graceful drape echoing the style of the sky gods.

She stood motionless. Calm-faced, transfixed. As if witnessing something divine, or something far beyond comprehension.

After a long moment, Marcus let out a controlled, sharp exhale. He stepped back from the Gab Nori. "Thank you, Anu. That will be all for today." His body relaxed, pupils refocused. He was back.

The priestess bowed deeply. "Lord Sumeri, I hope our temple's services were to your satisfaction."

Marcus gave a measured nod. "A donation will be sent to this temple shortly. Thank you for accommodating my unique request."

The priestess bowed again, her feathered arms shifting slightly.

Marcus descended the dais, eyes fixed on Yoshua.

The wolf halfbreed straightened from the wall.

"Sir, you cannot be here," the priestess said sharply, hands making a subtle gesture.

From the shadows, human guards emerged. Clad in polished bronze armor with indigo capes draped over one shoulder, helmets crested with plumes. Each carried a long spear, their movements disciplined and deliberate.

A clear warning.

"He's with me," Marcus said calmly, a dismissive wave of his hand following.

At the gesture, the guards retreated. Spears lowered, eyes still sharp as they melted back into the shadows.

Yoshua frowned. "What was that?"

Marcus glanced at the priestess and the Gab Nori, then turned away and strode past Yoshua without a word.

"Let's go," he said sharply.

Yoshua followed, through the inner sanctum doors, out of the temple, back to the transport.

Once inside, Yoshua handed Marcus the tablet, his frown deepening.

"There's a message from Ibris you should see."

Marcus took the tablet without meeting his eyes. Fingers moved quick, efficient, scanning the message. "Ah, I see," he muttered.

Yoshua studied him. A flicker crossed Marcus' face. 

Relief, maybe?

"What were you doing in there?" Yoshua asked.

Marcus stayed silent, fixed on the tablet. "I told you. Research," he said.

Without further discussion, the transport started its journey toward the Clinic.

"Did you know," Marcus said, breaking the silence, "that the temple we visited houses the only Gab Nori left in the Underworld?" He stroked his beard thoughtfully, feigning polite conversation.

"Really?" Yoshua asked, skeptical. "What about the other eleven temples?"

"Anu, the priestess of Ashurban, said that after two Gab Noris went missing during the civil war, likely taken by an Underworld mobster, the royal family moved the rest to the Grand Citadel for safekeeping," Marcus explained, his voice distant.

"Hm," Yoshua muttered. There was no point engaging Marcus now. He was deflecting, and Yoshua knew it.

That was how things worked in Atlantis. The powerful dictated what people believed, what they thought, what they knew. It had always been that way. Yoshua had grown used to it. That was why he never got too close to the sky gods, their ideologies, or their tech. He did not trust them. Any of them. Maybe that was why he and Dariq found peace with the Kahkati tribe. Their simple, grounded life made sense. It resonated.

Still, against his better judgment, Yoshua spoke.

"Don't you think the Gab Nori itself is a violation of the laws of Humrab?"

After all, it was an ancient A.I., now worshiped as the Goddess' word.

Marcus raised an eyebrow, amused. "What a thought! It may very well be," he said with a smirk, glancing out at the provocative holographic images flickering outside the window. Shaking his head, he added, "You know what's really strange? Zack and I were just talking about the laws of Humrab this morning. You two would get along."

"He sounds wise," Yoshua said. He knew most had little regard for the laws of Humrab. "So, did you find a link between halfbreeds and the ancient sky gods?"

Marcus stroked his beard. "I don't know yet," he said, evasive as ever.

Yoshua frowned at the cryptic reply but let it go. He was done pressing for today.

The transport descended into the Clinic's tunnel, gliding smooth and silent into the parking bay of the research floors. The hum of the engine faded as they halted. Overhead lights flickered on, casting pale light across cement walls and polished steel.

They stepped into the Clinic. In the first room, they found Ibris, his large horns bent low as he hunched over a workstation, data streaming across multiple holographic screens.

Before they could approach, Dr. Dubay intercepted them. Her bright blue eyes scanned Yoshua's torso, posture, and overall demeanor.

"You're responding better than I expected," she said.

Yoshua gave a faint smile.

She returned it, but her tone stayed firm. "Don't overdo it. Your body still needs time to heal."

Zeru appeared without warning and began scanning Yoshua with a handheld device. "Diagnostics confirm an 18% improvement in function," Zeru stated. "However, additional infusions will be required to maintain progress." The android added.

Marcus had already slipped into the room with Ibris. The two spoke in hushed tones, gestures animated.

Stepping around Zeru, Yoshua moved closer to the exchange. Anything was better than more talk about his health.

"You're wrong," Ibris said, clipped, pointing to a glowing section of the map. "The islands off Monika City make the most sense. Those facilities are perfect for keeping someone with Esa's abilities isolated. That's where they've taken him."

Marcus shook his head. "The islands are too obvious. They're monitored by both the Atlantean and Alemurian militaries. The Khoraz aren't reckless."

Ibris shot him a hard look. "How do you know the Atlantean military isn't in on it with the sky gods?" He had not forgotten it was Atlantean special ops that raided Yoshua's home in Cupta.

Marcus met his gaze, calm but pointed. "For one, Khuri Khoraz and the royals aren't on good terms. The Atlantean military wouldn't move without King Erilim's approval." He paused. "And I have access to one of his cabinet members who confirmed—"

Ibris scoffed. "That means nothing. The sky gods change their minds and allegiances like the wind."

Marcus shrugged it off. "Even if that's true," he said, leaning back, "I have access to both military feeds. If something was happening, I'd know. There's nothing."

"Of course you do," Ibris muttered.

Yoshua watched them both, gaze flicking between Ibris and Marcus, weighing the implications.

Marcus pressed on steadily. "They'd go somewhere no one is watching. You're right about that." He pointed to a region on the map. "The Western Lands are the most logical choice."

Yoshua narrowed his focus on Marcus. There was something beneath the calm, as if Marcus knew with certainty.

Ibris scoffed, frustrated. "The Western Lands?" he repeated, incredulous. "You think they'd hide Esa in a wasteland crawling with raiders and warlords? That's insanity!"

But Yoshua wasn't convinced Ibris' anger was about logic. It was the place itself: the Western Lands. He had heard the story before, pieced together from whispers, fragments Ibris had let slip.

This was about Serene's death.

The day that shattered Ibris.

She had gone into labor a month early. Ibris was away in the Western Lands, finalizing a contract with a warlord. The lands were desolate and lawless, a few hundred miles west of Bahyan City. Most Atlanteans did not ask what happened there. It was a place people preferred to forget. The sky gods did not patrol it because it was too barren and chaotic, not worth the effort. There was no police, governance, or oversight. A free-for-all, ruled by warlords and opportunists. The untamed edge of Atlantis. Where fortunes were made, alliances forged, and lives extinguished without consequence.

Ibris had been caught in a brutal fight with the warlord's gang, a conflict that dragged on nearly a week. By the time he returned to the Underworld, exhausted and battered, it was too late. He never got to say goodbye. Serene was already gone, buried before he knew what had happened. The weight of it crushed him. Knowing he had not been there when she needed him most. The guilt and shame clung like a shadow, a constant reminder he could not save his wife.

He had been told that the baby hadn't made it either. But there was no separate grave, no tangible proof of the child's existence. Only whispers and vague assurances from those who were there. Yoshua knew some part of Ibris still clung to the impossible hope that the baby had survived, that one day he would find him.

Yoshua watched as Ibris exhaled deeply, the memories still haunting him.

Marcus cut through the tension. "It's strategy, Ibris," he said. "You know how easy it is to vanish in the Western Lands. No oversight. No rules." He pointed to the glowing map. "The Khoraz are smart. According to your source, Ibris, they've already set up operations in one of the abandoned cities."

Marcus paused, scanning the holographic display. Then he leaned in.

"When I cross-reference the data with the Nexus Umbra system," he said, referring to the radar capable of detecting life forms across Atlantis, "hold on... that's unusual." He adjusted the map's focus. "There are a few larger structures. One circular. Fortified on all sides." 

A pause.

"Whatever it is, the Khoraz are using it to gather a massive number of people," he added flatly.

The description sent a chill down Yoshua's spine. It reminded him of the war, when halfbreeds had been rounded up by the Queen's army. Corralled like cattle into open fields. Butchered in horrifying numbers. The memory was a scar he carried deep, and Marcus' words brought it back with brutal clarity.

Yoshua let out a quiet breath, stepping back from the tense exchange between Ibris and Marcus. He had heard enough. Deep down, he knew Marcus was right—the Western Lands made the most sense. But he also knew Ibris. The bull-headed man needed to come to that conclusion on his own, without being pushed. Forcing it would only ignite more resistance. With a final glance at the holographic map glowing between them, Yoshua turned and walked away, letting their voices fade into the background.

The hallway was silent, the Clinic's sterile air cool against his skin. His boots clicked faintly on the polished floor as he walked. Yoshua wondered where Kaya was and headed toward baby Kiran's room.

The hum of machines and the distant echoes of Marcus and Ibris faded as he turned a corner.

That was when he saw them.

Kaya and Mazi, stepping out of a lab.

Yoshua halted.

Kaya's dress was crooked, one strap slipping low on her shoulder, the hem bunched and uneven. Her usually neat hair was a wild tangle, sticking out in every direction. And she was smiling, a dazed, silly grin Yoshua had never seen on her face before. Mazi wasn't faring better. His shirt was wrinkled, sleeves rolled up haphazardly, his brown hair mussed and damp at the temples. He looked disheveled and far too relaxed for someone whose best friend had just been taken by the Khoraz.

Yoshua's eyes widened. The realization hit like a slap. He blinked once, then twice. His composure slipped for a moment as the weight of the awkwardness settled. 

Kaya's gaze met his, her face flushing instantly. 

Mazi froze, stiff as stone, wide-eyed like a deer in a spotlight.

"Uncle," Kaya stammered, unusually high-pitched. "We were just—uh—cleaning some, um, equipment."

Mazi nodded vigorously, his face just as red. "Yes. Equipment. Very... advanced equipment," he mumbled, the words tripping over each other as he tried and failed to sound casual.

Yoshua looked between them, brow furrowed. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, jaw tight. Without a word, he turned on his heel and walked away.

"Uncle?" Kaya called, her voice thin with nerves.

But Yoshua did not stop.

"Ava Nori..." Mazi added weakly, his voice trailing off as Yoshua disappeared down the hall.

Yoshua power-walked, boots striking the floor with purpose. He frowned deeply, refusing to look back. Nearing the room where Marcus and Ibris were still debating, he noticed Joher had joined them. Yoshua exhaled slowly, composing himself, lips pressed into a thin line as he stepped back into the conversation.

There were bigger things to worry about, like helping Geshar and finding Esa.

As Yoshua entered, Ibris threw up his hands in reluctant acceptance. "Looks like we're going to the Western Lands." 

Marcus stood over the glowing holographic map, projected mid-air. He nodded briskly. "We should move quickly. The Nexus Umbra system is showing a surge in lifeform signatures at several Khoraz facilities out there." He pointed to a dense cluster of glowing red dots. Smaller tabs floated nearby, displaying charts, population counts, and detailed facility layouts.

"I'm coming with you," Joher declared. "My family may be there."

Yoshua nodded, distracted, barely registering Joher's words. His mind still reeling, he shook his head sharply, as if to dislodge the lingering thoughts.

Then the door slid open.

Mazi and Kaya stepped inside awkwardly.

Ibris looked up. His brown eyes narrowed, flicking between them. A slow, knowing grin curled his lips. A quiet laugh escaped him.

Joher stayed oblivious, his focus on Yoshua. "You look pale," he said gently. "Are you feeling alright? I should check your vitals."

Marcus glanced up from the map, saw Kaya and Mazi, and exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Unbelievable," he muttered.

No one spoke. The tension was thick. 

Kaya kept her gaze on Yoshua, cheeks flushed red. Mazi stood stiff beside her.

A very awkward silence stretched.

Yoshua cut through it sharply. "Let's go get our people."

******

Chapter Soundtrack

"Welcome to the Machine" by Pink Floyd

Author's Note

Hey readers, today's chapter pulled us from the ruins of District 2 to the echoing sanctum of the Temple. We learn more about Marcus, while Yoshua wrestled with faith, family, and trust. And then, let's be real, the awkward hallway scene. Kaya and Mazi, caught red-handed (or red-faced). Even Ava Nori couldn't save them from that moment!

Do you think Marcus is telling Yoshua the full truth about his "research"?

What do you make of Ibris' reaction to the Western Lands?

Can't wait to hear your thoughts.