The asteroid looms above the city of Isthanok. I look up at it, and I feel less fear than I should. Shifting to the third layer has... changed things. Not as much as I'd like, perhaps. That asteroid is still entirely capable of killing me if it hits. I just have to make sure it misses. He-Who-Guards and She-Who-Whispers are both holding it off with everything they can. I see waves of Whisper's power pulsing over the asteroid, trying to disintegrate it, to push it back; the force of its Firmament deflects her own. The best she can do is slow it down. Guard has every single one of his proxies placed strategically around the asteroid at equidistant points. Each one of them carries a heavy shield of pure Firmament, and they use that shield to press up against it. A thousand thrusters fire, each one attempting to push the asteroid back, blasting raw Firmament into the air above the city. He, too, can only slow it down. They both notice me when I approach, pouring Firmament into Accelerate to keep myself aloft in the air. It's not something I would have been able to do without help before—Accelerate is meant to Read the latest chapters on NovelHub - completely free!.. trivial, almost. Like a drop of my Firmament feeds the skill with everything it needs. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," I say. "But please stay out of my way. This will be hard enough to do as it is." Whisper... steps out of the way. There's no word of protest, no questions, no remarks. "Do you need help?" He-Who-Guards asks. I consider the question. "Can you give me something to stand on?" Before I can even finish the question, a proxy near the asteroid shifts, holding out its shield so I can use it as a horizontal platform. "Thank you." I reappear next to the platform. There's none of the traditional disorientation that comes with the shift in position, strangely—it's like I'm processing things faster, even without the accelerated thought of Quicken Mind. I reach out to touch the asteroid, and I feel none of the heat, even without a Barrier, Tough Body, or Second Wind. The loss of those skills still aches, but I push it out of my mind. Some fraction of their power still remains within me. Not to the same degree as before, perhaps, with none of the flexibility that comes from being able to pump Firmament into a skill, but... With a hand on the asteroid, I begin to activate Phaseslip. This time, the Firmament strain is intense enough that I almost immediately collapse to my knees. I grit my teeth—no matter how much strength I've gained, I'm trying to push an entire astronomical object out of phase with this dimension. It would have been difficult even if it had been an ordinary asteroid, and this one has Firmament that resists, fighting against the grip of my power. I can do this. I don't have any other choice. Even if Whisper, Guard and I acting together could destroy the thing, the harm it will do to the Great Cities would be irreparable. There would be uncountable casualties. The asteroid begins to take on the hue of my Firmament. A fragment of it flickers beneath my hand, phasing out of reality. About a fifth of the asteroid feels like it's under my power. The rest fights back, screaming defiance against my control, and I snarl against it with all the Firmament I have. I reach for that power inside me, that [authority/speak/command]. I don't fully understand what it is, yet, but I need every scrap I can get. Impact is only moments away. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Part of me thinks to use it on the asteroid—to command it to accept the Phaseslip. I'm almost certain it'll work. Whatever power this is, it seems to impose a truth on reality around me. But I don't want to use it that way. I'm not Whisper or Teluwat. More importantly, I don't need to use it that way. My Truth—that third-layer aspect I only just uncovered—folds itself into the command with an unsettling ease, like two pieces of a puzzle that was meant to be. There's a moment where the world itself seems to hesitate. I feel an electric charge in the air, a force that reaches into me. Something seems to slot into place. I can tell he wants to protest—but he doesn't. He just turns to look up, too, and joins me in enjoying the sight of a clear, safe sky. Gheraa was dead. But if he wasn't dead, he would be laughing so very, very hard. Oh, it was one thing for Ethan to survive the raid, for him to throw off the Integrators and their attempt to break him. It was one thing for him to find a way around that trap of a raid boss, even! But what he'd done? Oh, it was perfect. Gheraa didn't even know if Ethan knew what ha'd done. Phaseslip was the key to the Integrator homeworld, or at least the beginnings of it. His grip on his sense of self was nearly gone now, but for this to be one of the last things he would know... It was perfect. He couldn't have asked for a better end. He'd never been so sure that all of this was worth it. Rhoran took a step back when the color of the sky changed. He swallowed, staring up at the asteroid that flickered in the air above them, phasing in and out of existence like it wasn't quite sure where it was. He recognized that asteroid. This was impossible. It hadn't quite made it to them—wouldn't make it to them, really, judging by the amount of power in that phase and the fact that it wasn't quite keyed to their homeworld—but it was just far enough to... There was a rumbling crash. A feeling of something tearing. Rhoran almost didn't dare look at the Interface message that popped up. [ Warning: damage has been sustained to the Intermediary hub. Several Intermediaries have been disconnected. Immediate repair recommended. ] "You understand, of course, that you will take the blame for this?" Lhore's voice was calm, but Rhoran knew better than to believe what that implied. "Y-yes, ma'am." Rhoran swallowed. His mind reeled with the impossibility of it all. She-Who-Whispers didn't have Phaseslip. The only one that did on Hestia was Ethan, and there was no way that the human had survived a two-layer phase-shift. His eyes drifted to the corner of his Interface that kept track of Ethan. Alive. Third-layer human. Abnormality detected. Ethan Hill may be capable of anchoring a Truth. "Yes," Rhoran said quickly, swallowing. "Yes. Yes, I will." But if Ethan and Hestia as a whole were locked from Integrator interference, then there was only one way for him to get any answers at all. He would have to give up being an Integrator.