After the herald's announcement, the atmosphere shifted completely.

  The casual waiting was over. Now, six pairs of glowing eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. The pressure in the room—which had been building since the Red Luminary arrived—settled fully onto my shoulders.

  They're trying to intimidate me.

  Maybe it was intentional. Maybe it was just what happened when six ancient, glowing beings focused their attention on a single human. Either way, I wasn't going to let them see me crack.

  I can do this.

  ? We can do this, Yuuki. ?

  Yeah. We can.

  The herald—the indigo celestial—drifted forward slightly.

  "First, for the benefit of the otherworlder, I shall announce the Luminaries and their domains."

  One by one, they called out names.

  "The Overseer of Erio—Red Luminary, Rhydysseus."

  The massive crimson form didn't acknowledge the introduction. Just watched me with those burning red circles.

  "The Overseer of Visakha—Orange Luminary, Valeqbah."

  Orange inclined their form slightly. Hard to read.

  "The Overseer of Eldrathar—Yellow Luminary, Kahorctus."

  Yellow's glow flickered—excitement? Impatience? Their energy was almost visible, crackling at the edges.

  "The Overseer of Layloun—Green Luminary, Shrilyva."

  Green remained perfectly still. The calmest presence in the room, steady as deep water.

  "The Overseer of Ybará—Blue Luminary, Athushar."

  I caught Athushar's gaze briefly. No warmth there. No reassurance. Just the same neutral calm as always.

  Right. Athushar can't show favoritism here.

  "And the Overseer of Avalornê—Violet Luminary, Aderuti."

  Violet's sharp form seemed to lean forward slightly. Alert. Watchful.

  Six Luminaries. Six continents. And me in the middle.

  "Otherworlder," the herald continued, "you are expected to address the Luminaries with respect, using their proper names."

  "Got it," I said. Then, before I could stop myself: "What about you?"

  The herald paused. Their form flickered—surprise, maybe?

  "What about me?"

  "Your name. You announced everyone else. Seems fair you get introduced too."

  The Luminaries didn't react visibly. But I felt something shift in the room—attention redirecting, recalculating.

  "I am Periwinkle," the herald said after a moment. "Servant of the Prism."

  "Pretty name." I gave them a small smile. "Nice to meet you, Periwinkle. I'm Yuuki."

  Let them interpret that however they want. Friendly? Naive? Disrespectful?

  Either way, I'm not just going to stand here like a scared animal.

  Periwinkle seemed uncertain how to respond. They recovered quickly, turning back toward the Luminaries.

  "We shall now—"

  "Yuuki."

  The voice cut through the chamber like a blade.

  Everyone turned.

  Rhydysseus.

  The Red Luminary hadn't moved, but their presence somehow felt larger. Heavier. The red glow around them pulsed slowly.

  "You introduced yourself with a name," Rhydysseus said. "Yuuki."

  "That's right."

  "Athushar's report stated you arrived without memories. That you recall nothing of your past."

  Here we go.

  ? Be careful. ?

  "Athushar's report is accurate," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I don't remember anything—except my name and my world."

  "Yet you remember your name."

  "Names are stubborn things, I guess."

  Rhydysseus's red gaze bore into me.

  "Yuuki. Do not lie to our faces."

  Shit.

  Did they catch me?

  My heart rate spiked, but I kept my expression neutral. Confused, even.

  ? Do not show nervousness. Project genuine confusion. ?

  "I'm not lying," I said, tilting my head slightly. "Why would I?"

  "That is what we intend to determine."

  "Then determine away." I held their gaze. "But I'm telling you what I know. Which isn't much."

  Silence stretched.

  I decided to take a risk.

  "Rhydysseus."

  The name landed in the room like a stone in still water. Several celestials shifted. Even Athushar's form flickered slightly.

  Yeah. That's right. I said your name.

  I remembered what Sky had told me during one of our training sessions—a conversation about celestial hierarchy and naming.

  "Sky, who named you?"

  "The Blue Luminary named me. All Luminaries name their offspring."

  "Then why don't you call Athushar by their name?"

  "Because the names of Luminaries are given by the Creator. We cannot speak them. It would be... presumptuous. We are below them."

  "Wait—so I can't call Athushar by name anymore?"

  "You can, Yuuki. You are not celestial. You are neither above nor below the Luminaries. You are... separate. Equal, in a sense."

  "Huh. And they're not offended by that?"

  "That may be a human concern. Celestials do not project our beliefs onto other races. Your use of names is... acceptable. Perhaps even meaningful to them."

  The memory gave me confidence. Using their names was a calculated move—it showed I understood something about their culture while also asserting that I wasn't just going to cower.

  High risk. But high reward.

  ? Or high punishment. ?

  Not helping, AI.

  ? I know. ?

  Rhydysseus regarded me for a long moment. Then, without comment, the Red Luminary settled back into their chair.

  Safe. For now.

  Periwinkle stepped forward again.

  "The primary purpose of this Prism is to evaluate the otherworlder called Yuuki. To determine if he poses a threat to Sphere—or if he may be permitted freedom."

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Freedom. Right. That's the goal here.

  "If there are questions," Periwinkle continued, "Yuuki is expected to answer with complete honesty."

  "I have a question," Kahorctus said immediately.

  The Yellow Luminary's voice was sharp, quick—matching their restless energy.

  "Yuuki. Describe for us the waypoint. Its appearance. What you experienced inside."

  Okay. Easy enough.

  "When I woke up, I was in a dark room. Hexagonal shape—six walls. There was a glowing blue pond in the center. That's where I came out of."

  "Continue."

  "The walls had arches built into them. Six arches total, each with strange symbols carved at the top. I couldn't read them. One of the arches eventually opened—turned into a portal. That's how I got to the Skyland."

  Citlalli, I corrected mentally. They call it Citlalli.

  "Six arches," Kahorctus repeated. "You are certain?"

  "Yeah. I counted."

  The Yellow Luminary exchanged a glance with Athushar.

  "That matches the waypoint we know of," Kahorctus said. "However..."

  They leaned forward.

  "Yuuki. Are you aware that the waypoint was sealed? That it has been closed for over a millennium?"

  "Athushar mentioned that, yeah."

  "And are you aware that we never opened it? Even after your arrival?"

  What?

  ? This is significant. If they didn't open the waypoint... ?

  Then how did I get through?

  "I didn't know that," I said honestly. "I assumed someone opened it. Or that it activated when I... arrived."

  "There is no automatic activation," Aderuti said, their sharp violet form cutting into the conversation. "The waypoint does not open on its own. It requires deliberate action."

  Then how—

  "Is there only one waypoint?" I asked. "Or could there be others?"

  "There is only one," Aderuti replied flatly. "It was created a long time ago, positioned outside Sphere itself. In the void between worlds."

  Outside Sphere?

  Wait.

  "Outside," I repeated. "You mean... in space?"

  "In the void, yes. Where the waypoint could intercept those traveling between worlds."

  My mind raced.

  But my waypoint wasn't in space. It was dark, sure. But there were vines. Dirt on the floor. I assumed underground, or maybe in a forest—

  "Yuuki?" Periwinkle prompted. "You appear troubled."

  "The waypoint I came through," I said slowly, "wasn't in space."

  The room went quiet.

  "Explain," Rhydysseus demanded.

  "There were vines growing on the walls. Dirt on the floor. I assumed I was underground somewhere. Or in some kind of ancient structure that had been overgrown."

  The Luminaries' glows flickered. Even Athushar's.

  "That is impossible," Athushar said. "The waypoint exists in the void. There is no earth. No growth. Nothing."

  "Then maybe I wasn't in your waypoint."

  The silence that followed was heavy.

  "Yuuki," Shrilyva spoke for the first time. The Green Luminary's voice was measured, contemplative. "What you are describing... is a waypoint we have no knowledge of."

  "A second waypoint?" Valeqbah, the Orange Luminary, sounded uncertain. "How is that possible?"

  "It means they created another one," Rhydysseus said.

  The pronoun hung in the air.

  They?

  "You mean Primo," Athushar said quietly.

  Primo?

  ? I have no reference for that name. ?

  Neither do I.

  "If Primo created another waypoint," Kahorctus said, "that means there could be others. Hidden. Unknown to us."

  "It means many things," Rhydysseus replied grimly. "None of them good."

  The Luminaries exchanged glances—a rapid, silent communication I couldn't follow. Whatever "Primo" meant, it clearly rattled them.

  "We will address the waypoint matter separately," Aderuti said, cutting through the tension. "There is a more immediate concern."

  All six Luminaries turned their attention back to me.

  Why do I feel like things are about to get worse?

  "Yuuki," Aderuti continued. "Before we proceed—there is something you must understand about the current state of Sphere."

  Current state?

  "We are at war."

  ...What?

  "Not open war," Athushar clarified. "But conflict. Tension. A threat that grows with each passing cycle."

  "An empire," Rhydysseus said. "The Myki Empire. They seek to conquer the surface continents. To overthrow the balance we have maintained for millennia."

  Myki Empire. Okay.

  But what does this have to do with me?

  "Recently," Aderuti said, "we have detected infiltration. Spies within our territories. Agents working against us from within."

  Still not seeing the connection—

  "Yuuki."

  Athushar's voice.

  I turned to look at the Blue Luminary—the celestial who had guided me, trained me and accommodated me.

  "We suspect that you may be one of those spies."

  What.

  "We suspect that you are an agent of the Myki Empire."

  The words landed like a punch to the chest.

  They think I'm a spy.

  Athushar—the one who's been helping me this whole time—just accused me of being an enemy.

  Fair enough.

  ? Yuuki. Remain calm. This is an accusation, not a verdict. ?

  Yeah I'm calm. I'm just a little shock.

  ? Yes. Calm. Your reaction in the next few seconds will determine how this proceeds. ?

  I—

  I stood there, six ancient beings staring down at me, their combined light painting me in every color of the rainbow.

  And I had absolutely no idea what to say.