“Oh, Mister Gatei, I think I do,” I said with a knowing smile, folding my arms. “You know I’m not from this world, right?”

  Gatei flicked a single sharp g me from the er of his eye, but his hands opped moving, carefully iing the lenses like they were the most precious things he had ever held.

  “Of course,” he murmured, not looking up. “It’s an iing phenomenon.”

  I watched as he pced the lenses—so delicate—into a weirdly shaped casket on his workbench. The way he hahem was almost reverent, like a priest ying down a holy relic.

  “We’re united now,” I tinued, pag slightly, “but it wasn’t that long ago that we had a unification war.” I cast a g the prince, who, in true royalty who’s seen too much fashion, looked pletely disied.

  Figures.

  “But before all that,” I tinued, “before we reached that unity, we developed a way to remove any pce from existence. Eies, goh one decision.” I snapped my fingers for emphasis. “Erased. Just like that.”

  Gatei hummed under his breath, turning one of the lehis way and that uhe dim glow of the cavern. The way the light refracted off the cracks sent shivers down my spine. “I see where yoing,” he muttered, not quite listening but also pletely heari the same time. “Yes. Simir.”

  His firembled slightly as he adjusted a dial on his bench.

  A pulse of soft blue light flickered across the casket, illuminating the lenses inside. Gatei’s face—already lined with years of wisdom and, let’s be ho, probably some chaotic decisions—lit up with a wild, almost childlike glee.

  “This is genuine, girl,” he whispered, his voice almost shaking. Then, louder, he ughed—a manic, utterly unhinged sound that echoed off the cavern walls. “This one is genuine!”

  I stopped pag, letting a wave of relief wash over me. “Okay, good to hear,” I said, standing in front of him, hands on my hips. “So, it get me a vault?”

  Gatei let out a sharp, amused ugh. “Vault?” he repeated, shaking his head. “Just vault, she says!”

  And then the guards—yes, the fully armored, supposedly no-nonsense guards—also started ughing.

  Wait, what?

  I shot them a look, only to be met with knowing nods, as if I had just told the fu joke in Twir history. Oh. They weren’t nearly as serious as I thought. Just a little wary of me.

  Good to know.

  Gatei wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, grinning widely. “Girl… Well, Princess, this just bought you the eternal friendship of the cil!”

  Before I could fully process that, he abruptly sealed the lenses ihe casket, then kicked the eable down as if he were afraid I’d reach for them again. The moment the table hit the ground, it sank into the floor, disappearing into the stone as if it had never existed.

  I blinked. “I mean… thank you?”

  I tried to keep my expressioral, but internally, my brain was scrambliernal friendship of the cil? That was… a bit more than I’d hoped for.

  I had assumed the old forum story was just that—some nonsense exaggerated by nerds who thought they’d gamed the system. But apparently? That mountain of gold had been a lowball offer. That noob could’ve asked for far more.

  I was still deep in thought when I spoke. “I’m in a bit of a hurry,” I said, shaking off my daze. “I o store my things and be on my way because—”

  “—Because your mother is tearing the very fabric of our world apart!” Gatei practically leaped with joy, g his hands like a child witnessing fireworks for the first time. “What a family!”

  My gre could have shaved steel. “How do you know?” I demanded.

  Gatei’s grin widened, but instead of answering, he just stood there, smugly silent. I sucked in a breath, my patience fraying. “I’ll get you the best vault for your baubles,” he said, kig the ground as if another one of his damn magic tables to appear.

  Fine. Instead, I turo Rendo, who looked up at the mention of his name like a criminal caught red-handed. He was way too still. “Tell me!” I snapped.

  “Tell… what?” His voice was cautious, his body already shifting like he was debating whether to run.

  “How everyone and their mother know that Irwen is rippiy apart!” My gre locked onto him with the precision of a siege on. “Nobody told me how they know!”

  The prince hesitated, then his brows furrowed. “Wait… you don’t know?” His voice carried genuine disbelief. “You ’t feel it?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t have spatial magic.” I paused, sidering. “Or maybe it’s because I’m not from this world?”

  Gatei, meanwhile, had retrieved a hammer—a massive, ridiculously oversized thing that seemed hiriously out of p his small hands. I had no idea where he had pulled it from.

  The guards immediately took several cautious steps back.

  “What are you—?” I started, but before I could finish, Gatei swung the hammer with the kind of force that should have splintered his tiny bones into dust. The head of the hammer collided with the massive stoe, and instead of just crag or breaking, the ehing crumbled.

  Woah!

  I barely mao jump back as ks of stone crashed down, dust billowing up in thick clouds. When the rumble finally settled, I stood there, staring at the gaping ruin of what had once beerance.

  My mouth hung open.

  Gatei, for his part, looked incredibly pleased with himself. I turo Rendo, still wide-eyed. “Did that just happen?”

  The prince sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. “Pretender,” he said telepathically. Then he resumed normally, “you really o expect things like this.”

  “Follow me,” Gatei said, waving us forward as he hopped over the wreckage with the nimbleness of someone far too familiar with demolishing doorways. “I secured you an inner vault.”

  He moved at aic pace, weaving through the rubble as if it weren’t even there. I paused and cast a g the guards, half-expeg them to protest, maybe raise an eyebrow, something.

  Nothing.

  They stood as still as statues, pletely unfazed, as if this were just auesday. Maybe it was?

  With a sigh, I followed Gatei inside, carefully pig my way over the broken stohe deeper we went, the cooler the air became. The damp st of earth mixed with something older, somethiallic, like the fottehs of an a fe.

  The tunnel beyond was a strange blend of raw nature and deliberate craftsmanship—the rough walls curved with the unmistakable hand of the elements, but interwoven through it were precise carvings, smooth stone walkways, and glowing magical torches embedded in sces, their blue-white fmes flickering without heat.

  If I had the time, I might’ve stopped to actually look at them, maybe piece together whatever history was scrawled there.

  I didn’t have that time.

  Because behind us—the gate rumbled. I turned back, eyes widening as the destru we had just caused reversed itself like the world had suddenly hit rewind.

  Stone by stone, piece by piece, it flew—h for the briefest of moments before snapping into pce with a precision. It wasn’t like an avaumbling back up a mountain—no. This was deliberate. Guided. Like unseen hands were methodically stitg reality back together, sealing the damage we had caused without a trace.

  And the sound—

  It was grating, a deep, unnatural grinding that set my teeth on edge, a huones scraping against each other, shifting and clig into their rightful pces with meical efficy.

  Within seds, the gate was whole again. Untouched. Like it had never been broken at all. I stood there, gawking, my brain desperately trying to process what I had just seen.

  Gatei, of course, just chuckled. “No os in without permission. No os out without permission.”

  I let out a slow breath and turned back toward the tunnel. “Well, that’s f.”

  We eventually stepped into a cozy chamber, the shift in atmosphere almost jarring pared to the raw, aunnels we had just passed through.

  Soft blue light cascaded from an expensive-looking delier—a delicate structure of iwining crystal and shimmerial, suspended like a frozen steltion above our heads. The gentle glow bathed the room in a cool, calming hue, illuminating every polished surface with an almost ethereal sheen.

  Against the back wall stretched a long ter, its surface ed in white cloth that sparkled uhe light.

  Not just —this was the kind of pristihat made me wonder if the cloth itself was ented. Maybe it was woven from something absurd like moon spider silk, or infused with divine dust, or, knowing the Twir, just really, really well-made linen.

  Lining the chamber were rows of chests, eae carved from wood that looked so exquisite it could probably pay off the debt of aire kingdom. Every single one of them was ed in the same white cloth, giving the space a uniform, almost ceremonial elegance.

  “Your vault!” Gatei decred with a wide griuring grandly toward the space as if he had just unveiled a priceless treasure.

  I squi him. “We just… walked forward?” I asked, gng at Rendo, who nodded, equally perplexed. “Is this, like, a on vault?”

  Gatei shook his head, his expression the very picture of smugness. “No, it’s yours. I’ll bring others somewhere else—into their own vaults. Don’t worry.”

  I shrugged and reached for my first bag, pulling out a particurly heavy idol aing it on the spotless ter.

  Across from me, Rendo sank into a chair that looked like it probably ore than whole vilge number seventeen. He looked bato the entrance, brow furrowing slightly as if he were trying to his mind around how we got here.

  “Yic is impressive,” he muttered, his tone almost grudgingly admiring.

  “Oh, it’s divine magic,” I said, nontly flig a gold-trimmed goblet onto the ter. “Twir are kinda gods.”

  That got his attention.

  He froze, his head snapping toward me so fast I thought he might strain his neck. “Wait. Gods?“ His voice held the disbelief usually reserved for finding out your childhood hero was actually a drunk.

  Gatei, for his part, remained pletely unbothered. He simply kicked the wall beside him—because apparently, doors and chairs were for b people—and, in response, a smooth sto rose from the ground like it had just been summoned ience.

  Then, as if this was the most natural thing in the world, he reached into his pocket, pulled out something that suspiciously looked like dried meat, and started eating with the casual air of a man pletely unphased by reality itself.

  “How are we doing this?” I asked, eyeing the absurdly expensive chests befng back at him.

  Gatei grinned, amused, chewing thoughtfully befesturing zily at the vault. “It’s yours. Store anything you want, anywhere.”

  Rendo, however, was still not over the god thing. He turned back to Gatei, his expression caught somewhere between horrified realization and plete existential crisis.

  “You’re a god?“ he demanded, as if just now realizing the full weight of the situation.

  Gatei finished his bite, thought for a moment, then fshed another mischievous grin. “In a sense, you could say that,” he admitted, voice thick with delight.

  Rendo looked like someone had just kicked over his entire world-view.

  Gatei, unbothered as ever, leaned back against his summoned chair and waved a dismissive hand. “Our aor was a veritable god, so we all carry divinity. But it’s not like every one of us just be gods.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Sure seems like it,” I muttered, gesturing toward the literal sto he had just casually maed from the ground.

  Gatei’s gaze flicked to the nearly overflowing table, his grin widening like a man who had just stumbled onto the juiciest piece of gossip in years. “Party tricks,” he mused, waving a hand dismissively, as if divine magic was nothing more than a casual hobby. His ball of foot tapped idly on the ground before he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing in amusement. “But I’m more ied in your masquerade mask.”

  I blinked. My what now?

  His gaze lowered meaningfully to my face, and before I could even process what he meant, my own hand shot up, patting my cheeks frantically until my fingers brushed against—oh.

  The mask.

  Still strapped over my damn eyes.

  A wave of heat crawled up my neck as realization dawned, and I froze, my fingers curling against the edge of the mask. Oh no. I had pletely fotten about it. In my defense, a lot had happened between robbing a temple and now. But still.

  Gatei’s grin turned amused as he leaned forward, watg my deyed rea with a kind of smug delight.

  “Are you the hief who was brazen enough to rob a m home?” His voice was thick with mock reverence, as if I was some legendary figure in a heroic bald instead of a very fused, very flustered... thief.

  I could hear the prince’s giggle. I cleared my throat, attempting tain even a sliver of dignity. “They… already gave me a name?” I asked, hesitantly.

  Gatei ht cackled, throwing his head back, his ughter eg in the enclosed chamber like a damn bell. “Oh, Princess, you uimate just how fast a sdal travels when you piss off the gods!”