Yondu glared at Kaufman, looking down to see his shameless face and smile. Kaufman was a bit smaller than him, and it showed.

  “Don't mess with us, old man,” Yondu threatened with a serious face.

  “Alright, who would? Seriously? Think about it. I had work and ideas to tackle and implement into my strategies. As you must know, this is a personal business of mine, beyond your station, so mind your tongue, boy. Caring was more important than looking, or doubting, let alone asking for permissions, or whatnot. There is so much we don't know. It's a very glaring issue when some Awakenings turn into little problems. I wasn't sure about it myself.”

  “Now you are?”

  “Nah. I am still thinking.”

  “I hope you would not for the sake of my Pillar.”

  “What does it even matter to neither of us? You think Song Mi-Yung can keep her shit together? She will never be able to keep playing this game, even if she is good at it. She is still way too young for who she is.”

  “She has been under me for the sake of that kid and her research. For years, and you will not stain it.”

  “Says you, and would you bet your tongue on that?” Kaufman asked, finding this Rank 8 Walker working up to his satisfaction. They clashed in image and fantasy hundreds of times already and faced off like expected, old freaks.

  “You can lie with a straight face as usual. Some things never change, I suppose. Do you believe the rise of any Walker is a walk in the park? You never taught anyone, as far as I am concerned. You just use them. For you to want a disciple or someone special is creepy. Why have you shown this interest in William? Is it because of Viktor?”

  “Why are you asking this now? Even me... for that matter. Viktor was your boy. You should look at the mirror and beg Mi-Yung for mercy.”

  “That's neither of our points. Ten years ago, you were out of the picture. We weren't there, so we took care of what we could, yet that big Incursion happened, and the rest turned to dust or darkness.”

  “Shame. Not everything, though. What do you want from me?” Kaufman didn't move in the slightest and didn't want to speak more than necessary. At least the show behind him was still stable and barely changed, even if those Vectors began to shift and change.

  It was as Yondu expected. “Give me a reason to take you seriously, or accept it.”

  “I feel your hesitation, dear big-boy Pillar. I want many specific things and even more uncertain matters to be done. Someone like you, who has so much work and responsibilities on your shoulders, wouldn't get it. I want an astounding talent; someone who can share these burdens of mine, and get us going for the next century, because, once more, this one won't do it. It is an old race, you see.” Kaufman said in a hidden meaning. One that would never go over Yondu's head.

  “I will ask again, why William?” Yondu demanded and stepped close to him. Looking straight at Kaufman's face left no answers.

  “What is there for you?”

  “Mi-Yung.”

  “I am half certain she could afford to forget about being a Lower Pillar over a simple cup of tea.”

  “That's not your decision, Kaufman, and she is better than that. Better than you, even.”

  “That's not much; she can do that, though.”

  “I didn't ask about her.”

  “But you mentioned her. I did not.” Kaufman laughed and, before he could respond, continued. “Are you aware of William's Rank 0 status?”

  “Rank 0? I know things. You should know it too.”

  “Yeah. I visited Dreznar and Adam myself. Funny folks.”

  That sentence cracked something in Yondu's face as he tensed and felt suspicions it was true. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Nothing much. Just that Nolan was unknown, and a lot of news about who went there has been altered. By whom, you might ask? Ah, gods know that, and I am not a god. They don't exist. Rank 0 is an important stage, so I wasn't aware of the depth. His depth. No one was, yet some unwittingly were, and several places felt that crimson flash. There were rumors in dark societies of a demon hiding somewhere. They even named it; can you believe that? It's hilarious. The Red Flash went viral and stayed that way. I thought it was their myth, not worthy of inclusion in our current conversation. I think I was wrong, you were wrong, and Mi-Yung found him after many years of self-blame, during which you had forgotten what mattered. Viktor betrayed you, spat at your face.”

  “I did it all for her,” Yondu said with a straight face.

  “And look at it now?” Kaufman spread his arms and pointed at a large cocoon of Vectors surrounding William.

  “Hm. I am well aware of the effects and what this might mean. Research is private. I know it doesn't share further importance because it is subjective. Do you know something that I don't? Are you so sure about his Emblem, or is it something completely irrelevant to any of us?”

  “Obviously, it is relevant. All of it, yet not everything. I am like you, after all. Rank 8 is vast, without an end in sight. So much is hiding in the unknown, hidden in that moon, and the gravity of situation is dawning on all of us. Some feel pity and fear, or conscience, and cocoon themselves away in an escape that is futile. Shrouds of the Dawn are deep enough to outlast us and make us pitifully irrelevant.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Frowning even deeper, Yondu was close to snatching his neck and speaking to him face-to-face, but knew it was irrelevant. “That means you are not willing to tell me anything at all.”

  “I am listening, not sightseeing. Pillar. Things might change since Mi-Yung is someone whom I respect. I should do that, you know. Every Song is good to keep close, so I can't blame your actions in the slightest. Shame not everyone follows such principles and tests waters like that.” Kaufman sighed in regret and softened his remarks.

  “What have you done with William?” Yondu instead changed it for the worse as intended.

  “I have means of seeking effects and answers through the use of... peculiar methods. William reached Rank 0 when he was five years old, maybe all the way back in the Nolan? Well, both of us know that it is bullshit already. The fact that he's seventeen... means it's a lot like a building on twelve feet. Ten or twelve? The question is, what does it mean, right?”

  “Five is not unheard of in this sick world,” Yondu said with a raised brow. He was almost getting physical, but didn't want to stir any trouble in this place between two Rank 8 Walkers. Many eyes were watching, taking their meeting with curious consequences. Many ears also listened, which was no surprise, but most couldn't catch their meaning thanks to the innate presence that Kaufman's 'snake' was emitting.

  Listening was an issue. Many secrets and exchanges occurred without regard for manners, revealing intentional topics or providing helpful ammunition for the following eventful exchange. They were baits, or attempts at politics, or complete truths if one knows them well enough. Did Yondu knew eveyrthing Kaufman implied? Hardly. The manner of Nolan and whatever Dreznar and Adam saw was hard to grasp.

  “This crimson has been accumulating for ten years, or perhaps much less, yes?” Kaufman said. “Of course, that is the simplest thing to think about, but time-dilation and working around it are sensitive. I mean, what's the truth? He is here, in his cage, and his age is admirable.”

  “I guess. However, there seems to be something missing. It takes time to see answers, while his performance is remarkable. I wonder if Hough has problems with containment.” Yondu turned his head to the marvelous sight beyond the window.

  “Let's wait it out. Then, whoever is in the front will be a winner.”

  Yondu agreed with that, puffed his chest, and waited, clenching his arms in a terror of his grip because, like that one, he felt the nostalgic memory in that color before him.

  ***

  Beyond the window, Vectors flowed into a storm that kept revolving, hiding William inside. Each Vector was a strand, not even an inch thick, and unknown in length. Some might be round and long, others were flat. At first, they appeared like a pillar when they flashed from

  William's Emblem, which shattered inside his arm from the very core. Blood, vessels, and everything became a mangled mess, including the bones. Few wondered whether William felt this shit or not, but it sure looked gnarly and kind of repressed. They couldn't see anything, not even with their heightened senses. For now, Vectors kept expanding, much to the event and shock that Hough felt from the closest seat.

  Vectors warped in density, cracking as if looking for a way inside, reaching to the Cycle, or unraveling their potential. It couldn't keep up, or William wasn't enough.

  So Vectors exploded once more, wrapping everything within a twelve-foot radius and resembling a globe of a storm. Like a cage, Vectors traveled around the perimeter of the Accelerator, which was fully enveloped in barriers that were cut off, yet remained thanks to a constant influx of Arcana from all the Butlers.

  Hough was closer, looking at the approaching veils of crimson Vectors. He touched them with his palms, wondering if he would get burned, lose his arm, or nothing much would happen. Unfortunately, a barrier was around him just in time. He scoffed at one Butler who was bleeding from his face. Hough waved at him just in time, where the Vectors enveloped him and let him inside this half globe in one piece.

  Speechless, yet muttering words of nonsense, he looked around in shock. He was in a new world, surrounded by swirling Vectors, right before a chair with William. He had never seen anything like this. Such an effect in the Awakened was never this quantitative.

  Further in the Walker Ranks, such things weren't rare in the slightest. Some Rank-ups were literally apocalyptic, changing the landscape or weather for decades. This one expressed a youth, a beginning, and something akin to a first step. Just how many Vectors he counted was hard to say. How much they weighed or flowed from was another thing.

  They came from somewhere, so Hough wondered what and how William even kept living like that to this point. Frankly, Hough had a fair share of seeing such breakages and stuff, which wasn't strange. It involved older Walkers, however. As for Vectors of abnormal deformities, speed, and colors, they weren't as rare when he considered the last few decades and his position, which allowed him to work with the best cases in the world.

  Vectors were a peculiar form of Arcana. It was an Arcana transformed into strange patterns that described Emblem's energy, not the Emblem as a whole. Where Arcana mattered and formed these patterns and lines, they acted under a set of moves, rules, or wild directions. Those were Vectors! They weren't fit to call Arcana an energy, since Vectors were tools made of energy, accumulation, a side of energies, and special, strange forms.

  But Vectors were still part of Emblems like any Arcana, named under those lines and patterned behavior and substance, making them denser shapes than fog, mist, or waves that were common in purer, elemental Arcana forms.

  Hough felt and watched them with his keen eyes, believing them to be very robust, quick, and rather thicker lines. The source of everything was close.

  William was still in that chair, no longer conscious because... if he were, Hough wouldn't be sure what to think.

  Hough looked at him from a couple of feet away, noticing how his barriers were creaking, dissipating into thin white mist. He looked, trying to see something, and saw no Emblem in that hand.

  Sure, it cracked, but it would still be there in some form or another. That hand was open, cycling between breaking and repairing form, with leftover Vectors inside, swirling in a pool of blood.

  It was gone. Disappearing in that explosion wasn't out of the question, yet that wasn't the sort of abnormality that Hough expected. He thought the sheer scope of Vectors traveling around was the cause, or answer to everything.

  If that's the case, where should he be watching, or what...

  “He is dead?” A weird question spread in his mind, and when he looked back, his monitors were nowhere to be seen. He forgot his steps.

  Veil of this crimson weight caged him, yet not killed him, but they might. Hough expressed his curiosity as he often did. He cursed, slapped his cheeks, and began laughing and mumbling under his nose. He didn't even notice everything changing and moving, thanks to the massive stimulus to his brain.

  He wished he were a good painter because everything at the moment was mystifying. It would never disappear from his memory, so he didn't hate being a terrible painter. That's where the advantage of good memories was excellent.

  Not far from him, he almost stepped on what mattered: a swirling handful of Vectors formed a former Emblem, which at some point exploded and disappeared like usual. Now, it was no longer glossy and fine. Instead, it looked like incredibly dense waves of many lines stacked and moving onto a coin with three sides. What had changed was impossible to find.

  It was no longer a gem. It was an abomination bound to nothing. Vectors weren't smooth around Hough; they looked a bit shiny, yet not much, because they were red and that color was wild. Most Vectors resembled snakes, lines, and tiny blood vessels, much like real veins.

  At last, it was about that damn time.

  Now, every Vector apart from the core ones escaped and surrounded Hough and William—a few thousand connected to William's hand, establishing an ongoing Cycle that seemed impossible to break. It did not break. It was never broken.