Shopping

Alice stared up at the ceiling, still half buried in cushions, the faint sound of water trickling from the fountain filling the room. Somewhere behind the partition, Ignition’s shower was still running. Steam curled lazily through the air, carrying the smell of soap.

She exhaled, long and slow. “Okay… maybe it’s fine just being friends for now.”

The thought surprised her a little, but it felt right. She didn’t need to **** anything. They’d been through enough together already ****, dungeons, and… whatever counted as twice sleeping with a werewolf.

Her lips twitched. (Besides, next time he changes… maybe I’ll get to calm him down again right?)

The image hit her all at once, and she sat up, cheeks flaming. “Nope. Nope, bad brain. We’re not doing this again.”

the bathroom door clicked open. Steam poured out, and Ignition stepped through, towel draped around his shoulders, clean clothes slung over one arm.

Alice shot to her feet. “We should, uh, go shopping!” she blurted. “See what the city hasy’know, gear, food!”

Ignition blinked, then smiled faintly, water still dripping from his hair. “You sure? You look like you’re trying to flee the scene of a crime.”

“Very sure,” she said quickly, grabbing her pouch and pretending not to notice how Ignition's wet muscles under the soft light glistened.

He chuckled. “Alright then. Lead the way, birdy.”

As the two stepped out of their room and into the warm corridor, the scent citrus still lingered in the air. The Den was quieter now only the distant hiss of steam pipes and the faint murmur of the lounge below broke the silence.

Alice stretched her arms, still self-conscious about her bare wings, and tried to act casual. “Okay. Step one shopping. Step two not dying of embarrassment.”

Ignition snorted. “Step three maybe buy you something with sleeves.”

Before Alice could answer, a familiar voice purred from behind them.

“Oh, leaving already?”

The Kheprathi wife leaned casually against the doorway, one hand resting on her curved hip. Her silks shimmered in the lantern light, deep blue and gold, and her hairbraided with gemstonesframed her face like a queen from an old mural. Heavy eyeliner lined her mismatched gold and blue eyes.

She smiled at them both, tail swaying lazily behind her. “You two are adorable,” she said. “Running off for a date already?”

Alice blinked. “It’s not a date”

“Shopping,” Ignition corrected.

The Kheprathi tilted her head, smiling wider. “Ah, shopping! Dangerous territory. Couples walk in for trinkets and come out with matching tattoos.”

Alice covered her face with both hands. “We’re not a couple.”

“Of course not.” The woman’s voice was honey-smooth, teasing.

she continued breezily, turning her attention back to Alice, “since you’re headed into the Mirror Market, let me give you a few suggestions.”

She began ticking them off on her fingers, her bangles chiming with each gesture.

“First, the Silken Current best fabrics you’ll find below the sands. They even carry enchanted thread for wings, if you want to cover up those pretty little bones until your feathers grow back.”

Alice winced. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Second,” the woman went on, ignoring her, “Rattle & Rune. Tiny shop, but the owner makes charms that actually work. Tell him I sent you and he’ll pretend to give you a discount.”

Alice managed a weak smile. “Pretend?”

The Kheprathi winked. “He doubles the price first.”

Ignition chuckled under his breath, earning a sidelong glare from Alice.

“-and last,” the innkeeper’s wife added, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial purr, “if you two want somewhere quieter, there’s The Hourglass Café by the lake. Good food, stronger tea, and private booths where time feels like it stops. Some say the owner’s an old sand mage who brews tea with enchanted grains from his own hourglass.”

Alice blinked. “That’s… unsettlingly poetic.”

The Kheprathi woman’s golden eyes glittered with amusement. “Everything good in this city is. Besides,” she added with a teasing smile, “it’s a fine place for… companions to talk without interruptions.”

Alice turned red. “We’re not-”

Ignition cut in with a grin. “-shopping, yes, we know.”

The Kheprathi waved a jeweled hand dismissively. “Mm-hm. Of course you are. Enjoy yourselves, my little sand swept doves. And if you see the waiter named Heket, tell her to stop flirting with my wife.”

Alice hesitated. “Wait, your husband?”

The woman blinked, tail flicking. “Did I say wife? Oh-right. I get confused sometimes.”

Ignition blinked again. “...Right.”

Alice snorted as they finally stepped out into the humming streets of the Oasis. “I like her.”

“She terrifies me,” Ignition muttered.

The streets of the Oasis shimmered beneath the sunlight pouring from the distant ceiling miles above. Steam curled lazily from vents in the sandstone, copper cables snaked between glowing glass streetlamps, their light tinted the color of moonlight.

Alice and Ignition walked side by side through the crowd and somewhere, a phonograph played an old Earth jazz tune, its sound warped slightly by magic.

“Clothes are off the list,” Alice said, crossing her arms under her chest. “Anything I put on turns into a bikini anyway.”

Ignition laughed softly, his breath sending a tiny ember into the air. “And I’d just burn mine off. We’d make a pretty poor advertisement.”

“Rattle & Rune it is, then,” she sighed.

They passed through an open plaza where water flowed uphill into crystalline basins, defying gravity’s pull. A trio of stitched children played beside it, their laughter oddly musical as they tossed glowing pebbles.

“Hard to believe this place is part of a dungeon,” Ignition murmured.

“Yeah,” Alice said. “Feels more like some weird crossroads city.”

As they turned a corner, Rattle & Rune wasn’t far now. Brass signage glimmered with shifting hieroglyphs. One stall sold bottled lightning, another displayed jars of animated eyes that blinked when anyone passed too close.

Alice paused beside a mirror polished window displaying an assortment of amulets, charms, and faintly humming relics. “You think this place has actual useful stuff, or just shiny souvenirs for tourists?”

Ignition gave her a sidelong smile. “Only one way to find out.”

They moved onward through the crowd, her wings still featherless but held high. Despite the lingering whispers about the “naked chicken,” Alice found herself starting to relax. The air was warm, the market vibrant, and for the first time since entering the dungeon, she felt like she could breathe.

When they reached the entrance to Rattle & Rune, it was everything the innkeeper’s wife had promised a crooked little shop squeezed between two grand stone pillars, its doorway marked by a dangling sign made of bones that clicked together in the breeze. The windows glowed with soft teal light, and the faint jangle of wind chimes clashing together echoed from within.

Alice grinned faintly. “Well,” she said, “if this place doesn’t scream ‘terrible idea,’ I don’t know what does.”

Ignition chuckled, holding the door open for her. “Then it’s perfect for us.”

At the counter stood the clerk.

They were tall and elegant, their movements deliberate-almost too smooth. Their body was a tapestry of perfect symmetry, but no two pieces of skin matched in tone or texture. Pale gold blended into obsidian, then into soft umber and porcelain, stitched artfully. A single feline ear, sleek and tawny, rose from their left side, while their right was human.

If not for the seams, they could have been sculpted from beauty itself. Their face was all soft lines and cold grace, recalling statues from another age. Alice caught herself staring and quickly looked away.

“Welcome to Rattle & Rune,” the stitched said, voice even and melodic-a tone that was both masculine and feminine, layered subtly with a buzz. “Please, mind the undead cats. They bite.”

Ignition let out a low whistle. “This place is… something else.”

The clerk smiled faintly, “We do take pride in our presentation. Adventurers tend to undervalue aesthetics.”

Alice tilted her head, trying not to seem impressed. “You’re, uh… very put together.”

The stitched gave a small bow. “Quite literally.” Their smile widened slightly, almost teasing. “Would you be looking for equipment, enchantments, or-” their gaze flicked over Alice’s gleaming bikini armor

Alice groaned. “If you can make Dice stop laughing at me, I’ll buy your whole store.”

“I’m afraid I don’t deal in miracles,” they said lightly. “But perhaps a charm of fortune? Or something for your… avian misfortune.”

Ignition was busy scanning a rack of elemental stones near the wall, the warm glow from one reflecting in his eyes. “You’ve got some rare stuff here. What’s your story? You were a delver once?”

The stitched clerk paused, fingertips brushing the edge of the counter. “Many delvers, actually.”

Alice blinked. “You mean-”

They nodded, serene. “I am the sum of their stories, bound by thread and will. Rattle & Rune is my afterlife, of sorts.”

That sent a chill through her wings or what was left of them. “That’s… poetic. And kinda creepy.”

“Creepy sells,” they replied pleasantly. “Now-what can I tempt you two with?”

Alice wandered deeper into the shop, weaving between displays that seemed to hum softly as she passed. The walls of Rattle & Rune curved inward like ribs, lined with shelves of strange glasswork and delicate brass fixtures.

Everywhere she looked, something shimmered or whispered.

A cabinet labeled Elixirs of Uncertain Efficacy immediately drew her attention. Each bottle floated an inch above its shelf, rotating slowly in defiance of gravity. When she reached for one, a System prompt flickered to life in front of her:

[Item Identified: Draught of Shared Breath]

Effect: Temporarily links respiration between two targets.

Duration: 5 minutes.

Warning: If either target stops breathing, both do.

Alice blinked. “Oh, that’s… horrifyingly romantic.”

The stitched clerk appeared beside her with their usual quiet grace. “Popular with couples,” they said smoothly. “Or undead assassins.”

“Right. Date night or ****,” Alice muttered. “Very versatile.”

She moved on quickly to another shelf stacked with paper packets of shimmering powders sealed in wax. One packet glowed faintly lavender, and the air around it smelled faintly of rain.

[Item Identified: Sleep of the Starlit Mind]

Form: Crystalline powder, dissolve in tea.

Effect: Induces vivid lucid dreams for up to eight hours.

Notes: Used by mystics, poets, and people trying to flirt with gods.

Alice squinted. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“Most worthwhile things are,” the stitched clerk replied serenely.

The next display case was lined with small brass boxes, each etched in looping glyphs that pulsed faintly in rhythm with her heartbeat. She tapped one curiously.

[Item Identified: Ashen Shroud]

Rarity: B

A lightweight mantle woven from soot-dyed dragon hair, laced with ember-runes. +12 Agility, +15 Willpower.

Effect: Negates minor fire damage and lets the wearer blur briefly into smoke when dodging.

The fabric seemed to breathe heat as she brushed her fingers near it. “That’s gorgeous,” she murmured, half to herself.

The clerk’s single golden eye glimmered. “It would suit someone constantly near immolation.”

“Are you flirting or giving me practical advice?”

“Both.”

Alice snorted and moved toward the next rackthis one lined with armor, talismans, and blades displayed against black velvet. The air around them vibrated faintly, humming with restrained enchantment.

[Item Identified: Whispersteel Bracer]

Rarity: D+

Effect: Converts kinetic impact into sound-based counterblows.

Notes: Ideal for bards and reckless fighters.

[Item Identified: Cloak of the Horizon Nomad]

Rarity: B

A flowing, wind-worn cloak patterned in shifting gold. +10 Agility, +10 Perception.

Effect: Wearer may sprint tirelessly for short bursts, their body moving like windblown sand. Rare desert relic.

And then one caught her eye

[Item Identified: Wingframe Gauntlets]

Rarity: C+

Effect: Projects temporary spectral wings when charged with mana. Allows limited gliding or midair dashes.

Warning: Not a replacement for actual wings. (Dice laughs softly.)

Alice’s lips twitched. “Not a replacement, huh? Someone’s rubbing it in.”

From across the aisle, Ignition called, “You find something dangerous yet?”

“Define dangerous,” she said.

“Anything you’d use even after being warned not to.”

“…Then yes.”

She moved toward another rack near the back where potions were displayed like art pieces flasks of blown glass, each one shaped differently, their contents glowing in colors no natural spectrum had ever seen. The stitched clerk followed, hands clasped neatly behind their back.

“Our higher-tier concoctions,” they said softly. “Artifacts in liquid form.”

Alice leaned in, reading the ornate labels.

[Item Identified: Aetheric Bloom Serum]

Effect: Temporarily increases mana regeneration by 400%. Causes faint luminescence of veins.

Side Effect: Sudden euphoria and loss of depth perception.

[Item Identified: Widow’s Glass]

Effect: Lets the drinker see through illusions for ten minutes.

Side Effect: Hallucinations of spiders for the following hour.

[Item Identified: The Reversal Tonic]

Effect: Temporarily inverts a chosen magical attribute.

Example: Fire → Frost, Healing → Harm.

Warning: Unstable. Do not drink near open flames or moral dilemmas.

Alice whistled under her breath. “These are insane.”

“Deliciously so,” said the stitched clerk, folding their patchwork hands. “The most interesting customers always are.”

For a fleeting moment, she imagined what it might feel like to wear the Ashen Shroud, or to down the Aetheric Bloom Serum and feel her mana roar to life again. It was tempting and recklessly tempting. But the practical part of her-the one that occasionally kept her alive won out.

“I’ll think about it,” she said. “Maybe after I figure out how to make rent again.”

The stitched clerk smiled, cat ear twitching. “Rattle & Rune remembers its regulars, Miss Alice.”

Alice froze mid-step.

“Waithow do you know my name?”

The stitched clerk paused, expression unreadable. Their golden eye flicked toward her.

“Names,” they said softly, “tend to linger.”

“That’s not an answer,” Alice replied, folding her arms. “You called me Miss Alice. I never told you that.”

They tilted their head slightly, cat ear twitching. “You’re rather distinct. It’s difficult not to know who you are.”

“That’s not an answer either.”

The clerk smiled faintly - too calm, too measured. “Perhaps I read it in the air. The Oasis is full of whispers, and your name… travels.”

Alice frowned, about to press again, but something in their tone gave her pause. It wasn’t smugness, it was sadness, faint and buried.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Be mysterious. That’s definitely not suspicious at all.”

The clerk’s stitched mouth curved. “Some stories aren’t ours to tell.”

They turned toward the counter and reached beneath it, pulling out a carefully folded parcel wrapped in crimson silk. “Here. Consider this… a belated celebration.”

Alice blinked. “A what?”

“For all the birthdays I've missed.”

Her eyes widened. “How could you possibly”

But again, that quiet smile. “It’s rude to question gifts.”

Before she could argue, they placed the bundle in her hands. Inside lay the Ashen Shroud its threads soft yet strangely warm, like smoke woven into cloth. Embers shimmered faintly along its hem.

“Something tells me you’ll need it,” the clerk said simply.

Alice ran her fingers over the fabric, caught between awe and confusion. “This… I can’t”

“You can,” they interrupted gently. “And you should. The Oasis has a way of taking back what it’s owed.”

Alice hesitated, then finally nodded, clutching the shroud close. “...Thanks.”

“Two gifts,” the stitched clerk said suddenly. “It’s tradition, isn’t it? Choose another. Whatever calls to you.”

Alice glanced around, eyes darting over shelves of glowing potions and dangerous relics. Out of everything she could have picked the armor, the serum, the enchanted weapons her hand drifted, almost unconsciously, to the slender glass flask labeled The Reversal Tonic.

She turned it over slowly, the liquid inside swirling like mercury. “This one.”

The stitched clerk raised an eyebrow. “A whimsical choice.”

“I’m full of bad ideas,”

The clerk gave a faint chuckle, then bowed with practiced grace. “May your bad ideas carry you farther than good intentions ever could, Miss Alice.”

She paused in the doorway, still trying to make sense of them. “You’re weird, you know that?”

“Occupational hazard,” they said, eyes half-lidded. “We’re stitched together from what remains of other people’s lives. Some habits linger longer than flesh.”

For a moment, she thought she saw real grief behind that calm mask then it was gone, replaced by the same polite detachment as before.

“Happy belated birthdays,” they said.

Alice opened her mouth to ask one more question but Ignition called from outside, and by the time she looked back, the clerk was gone.

Alice stood just outside the sign of Rattle & Rune, clutching the wrapped parcel tight against her chest. The hum of the market rolled around them once more.

Ignition stretched, as he eyed her new cloak. “So? You gonna tell me what's up with the clerk? That conversation seemed a little weird from what I overheard?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Alice said, half-distracted, frowning down the street. “They knew my name. Said something about ‘missed birthdays.’ I don’t”

She didn’t get to finish.

Alice was still mid-sentence when the air crackled.

A sharp whine split the street, followed by the scent of ozone and a flash of electric blue. Sparks scattered across the stone as something streaked toward them, not a vehicle, not a spell, but a woman surfing through the air on a flaming guitar.

The crash came a heartbeat later.

THUD.

Alice hit the ground, dazed. The world spun in a blur of smoke, thunder, and black leather before she realized someone was sprawled half on top of her tan skin, wild hair.

Alice groaned. “Ow.”

“Ha! Ten points!” the stranger crowed, her voice a manic mix of triumph and laughter. faint muscles defined under a cropped leather jacket half-zipped Belts, chains, and patches adorned her pants, Her crimson eye glowed with reckless delight, the other covered by a eyepatch.

Ignition blinked. “You ran her over!”

The woman ignored him completely, hopping to her feet with a burst of manic energy. “Yeah, yeah, my bad should’ve cast ‘Watch Where You’re Flying,’ huh?” she said, shaking sparks off her hair as her axe-shaped guitar hovered obediently beside her, strings still humming from

Impact.

She offered Alice a hand, her grin so wide it practically split her face. “Name’s Jett Havok! Level thirty-something, professional chaos magnet, part-time courier, full-time rock god.”

Alice made a strangled noise somewhere between disbelief and pain. “You hit me with a guitar.”

“Correction,” Jett said, flashing a devilish grin. “Grazed. With style.”

She gave her floating instrument a pat before slinging it over one shoulder. “So, you two tourists or troublemakers?”

Alice groaned, still flat on her back. “Right now? Roadkill.”

Ignition, arms crossed, was clearly biting back laughter. “You okay, Feathers?”

“I was,” Alice hissed, rubbing her ribs. “Now I’m pretty sure I’m cursed by traffic.”

Jett barked out a laugh, the sound loud enough to startle a passing vendor. “Ha! Traffic kills the weak, sister! You? You took that hit like a legend!” She leaned forward suddenly, her crimson eyes scanning Alice’s bent wings. “Whoa what happened there? You molt early, or did a blender win a fight?”

Alice’s face turned bright red. “Goddess. Riddles. Long story.”

“Ohhh,” Jett said with a wicked grin. “So it was kinky.”

Ignition burst out laughing. “She’s not wrong.”

“Shut up!” Alice snapped, covering her face.

She groaned into her palms. “Is this town allergic to dignity?”

“Dignity?” Jett said, throwing her hands up dramatically. “Honey, this is the Oasis! You don’t check in with dignity, you sacrifice it at the gate and get a free drink instead!”

She slung her guitar back under one arm, the strings crackling faintly with residual static. “Anyway! Since I technically assaulted you with my six-string of destiny, I owe you caffeine. There’s this café down by the lake called The Hourglass. Best iced coffee in the dungeon. My treat.”

Ignition tilted his head, amused. “You’re buying us coffee because you ran her over?”

“Excuse you,” Jett said, poking his chest. “It was a grazing collision with style points! And yeah, of course I’m buying coffee. You wound a warrior’s pride, you pay the tab that’s the law of metal!”

Alice sighed, shaking her head. “...This is my life now.”

Jett grinned, stepping onto her hovering guitar again. It thrummed beneath her feet like a living storm, sparks skipping across the cobblestone. “You coming or what, angels and embers? The city’s not gonna explore itself!”

Ignition grinned, offering Alice a hand. “Well, at least it’s never boring.”

She took it, muttering under her breath, “Dice, if you’re watching this, I hope you ****.”

Alice clung to the neck of Jett’s hovering guitar, wind tearing through her hair as sparks exploded beneath them. “You’re going to kill us!”

“Not my style!” Jett shouted back, laughing like thunder as she leaned into another sharp turn. The guitar wailed under her feet, strings glowing red-hot as it screamed through the air. Lightning trailed behind them.

They zipped past a row of market stalls scattering merchants, upending baskets of fruit, and leaving the scent of ozone and panic in their wake. Jett whooped, throwing up a devil-horn salute. “Yeah! That’s what I’m talkin’ about! The road fears me, baby!”

Ignition followed behind on foot, his steps lighting faint scorch marks into the cobblestone. Despite the chaos, he looked maddeningly with calm hands in his pockets, keeping perfect pace with the flying maniac ahead of him.

Alice glanced over her shoulder, shouting above the roar, “How are you even keeping up?!”

He smirked. “Cardio.”

“Cardio can go to hell!” Alice screamed as Jett spun the guitar midair, shredding a single triumphant chord that sent a burst of sparks spiraling outward like fireworks.

“Welcome to the ride, Feathers!” Jett yelled over the noise. “No seatbelts, no brakes, no regrets!”

As they tore through the lower terraces,

Alice gripped the Core Capsule at her hip, a smooth, pearl sized oval that pulsed faintly with inner light. She tossed it upward. The capsule burst open midair, releasing the folded parcel she’d been carrying since the crash.

The Ashen Shroud unfurled gracefully in the rushing air ember-black fabric veined with molten orange light that pulsed like a slow heartbeat.

“Finally,” she muttered, slipping it over her shoulders as the city blurred around them.

The System immediately flickered across her vision:

[Equipment Equipped: Ashen Shroud]

[Note: Adjusting aesthetics to match Valkyrie Class Armor.]

The cloak shimmered and shifted, its heavy folds dissolving into sleek ribbons that framed her bikini armor.

The fabric shimmered between shadow and smoke beautiful, yes, but still entirely unhelpful in the modesty department.

Alice sighed. “Of course.”

[Dice: Function over fashion, my dear. And by ‘function’ I mean my entertainment.]

“Do you ever shut up?” she muttered under her breath.

Ignition caught up alongside them, heat shimmer curling off his shoulders. When he saw the new look, he grinned. “Nice upgrade.”

“It’s literally ribbons,” Alice shot back.

“Exactly,” he said with a smirk.

Jett twisted around, one hand still steady on her guitar’s neck as it hovered effortlessly beneath her. Her grin was devilish, eyes blazing with humor. “If you two start flirting, I swear I’m crashing us into a fruit stand. I’ll do it. Full throttle.”

“Not flirting!” Alice said quickly far too quickly.

“Uh-huh,” Jett teased, her crimson eyes gleaming with mischief. “Then stop blushing, Feathers.”

They pulled onto one of the upper promenades, the guitar-board humming beneath them as the city opened into a wide, airy plaza strung with paper lanterns and flickering holographic signs. Above, the carved ceiling of the cavern shimmered with refracted sunlight from miles above caught and focused by massive crystal mirrors embedded in the rock.

“The Hourglass Café!” Jett announced, braking with a showy spin that sent sparks and dust spiraling around them like confetti. She kicked the tail of her guitar down to balance and threw her arms out like she’d just finished a concert. “Home of caffeine, chaos, and questionable life choices!”

Alice stumbled off the guitar. The café sat on the lakeshore, carved into a natural curve of sandstone and glass. Its roof shimmered with trapped light, and at its center an enormous golden hourglass turned endlessly glowing sand streaming between its halves without ever running out.

“That’s… ominous,” Alice said, brushing stray hair from her face.

Jett was already striding toward the entrance, boots clinking on the mosaic tiles, her guitar slung across her back like a weapon of mass percussion. “You’ll see! Come on, slowpokescaffeine waits for no one!”

Ignition chuckled, heat rippling faintly around him. “I can’t tell if she’s the best or worst thing that’s happened to us today.”

Alice sighed, following after. “Probably both.”

Alice followed, pulling the Ashen Shroud closer around her shoulders. Even if Dice had reduced it to smoky ribbons, the cloak felt alive warm and balanced, She let out a slow breath,

The café’s doors opened with a soft chime.

Inside, the world changed.

Golden light drifted from suspended grains of sand, hanging motionless in the air like tiny stars. Every step disturbed them just slightly, causing ripples that shimmered before returning to stillness. Copper lanterns hung low over carved wooden tables, and alcoves along the walls shimmered.

Steam curled up from cups, carrying scents of clove, honey, and something ancient the faint trace of desert wind. A sign behind the counter, written in flowing script, read:

“Tea steeped in time itself brewed by Master Khelem, the Hourglass Mage.”

Alice blinked, awe softening her usual sarcasm. “Okay… this is actually beautiful.”

sweeping an arm toward the interior. “Good food, stronger tea, and privacy worth every damn coin. You could commit a felony in here and no one would notice. Not that I recommend it… “

Ignition glanced around the glowing room, his tone low. “Feels like we walked into a memory.”

“Exactly what it’s supposed to feel like,” Jett said, striding toward a private booth. “Old sand mage runs this place. Brews his tea with enchanted grains from his own hourglass. Rumor says it messes with your heartbeat slows you down till even your worries forget to move.”

Alice’s gaze lingered on the massive hourglass centerpiece, its slow cascade of luminous gold reflected in the rippling sand underfoot. The entire floor seemed alive, each step setting off faint waves of light.

They chose a booth tucked in the far corner, a half-circle alcove painted in rich midnight blue that swallowed the glow around it. Above them, the ceiling shimmered with drifting golden sand, spilling soft halos over the velvet cushions. From the right angle, it looked like they were sitting beneath a calm, living night sky, stars suspended mid-fall.

Alice leaned back, eyes tracing the slow swirl of grains overhead. “So… this hourglass guy,” she said thoughtfully. “He really uses time magic? I mean, actual time travel’s impossible, right?”

Jett was already halfway through the menu, chin propped on one hand. “Time travel? Yeah, forget it, that’s storybook nonsense. You can speed stuff up or slow it down if you’re good but turning the clock backward?” She gave a sharp grin. “Even the gods get a ‘try again’ screen on that one.”

Ignition folded his arms, leaning forward slightly. “So this guy’s one of the ‘good’ ones, then?”

“Oh, for sure,” Jett said between gulps of water. “Most folks say he’s A-rank. But…” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, her eyes sparkling. “Some say he’s actually S-rank retired, hiding out here, brewing tea for lost souls.”

Alice chuckled softly. “That sounds like the kind of rumor people make up when they can’t explain a good cup of tea.”

“Buddy, that’s flavor.” Jett winked. “Welcome to the Hourglass.”

Alice raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like the kind of rumor that starts when someone can’t explain a good brew.”

Alice tilted her head, watching the grains drifting through the air, glinting in the soft lamplight. The entire place pulsed with quiet rhythm, the faint whisper of shifting sand and the gentle hum of distant magic. It didn’t just look like a dream; it felt like one. Every sound seemed softer, every movement slower, as if the world beyond the café no longer existed.

“Feels like we’re inside someone’s memory,” she murmured.

Ignition nodded slightly, his molten eyes reflecting the gold above them. “A quiet one. Kinda nice, actually.”

For a moment, none of them spoke. The drifting sand above cast soft halos of gold and blue across their faces. Even Jett’s usual manic spark seemed to dim; her foot stopped tapping, and her grin softened into something almost calm.

A stitched server glided past their table, robes trailing like smoke and leaving behind a faint scent of cinnamon. The glasses they carried shimmered clear on the outside, swirling with light like captured starlight within.

“Guess we found the calmest place in the whole dungeon,” Alice murmured.

Jett chuckled, her voice low for once. “Yeah. Don’t get used to it. Time’s slower here, but trouble’s got good cardio.”

Alice smiled faintly. “Story of my life.”

Jett leaned back, draping her arm across the seat behind Alice. “Yeah? Bet your story’s killer.”

Alice gave a nervous laugh, then hesitated before asking, “So… what’s it like being, you know… you? ”

Jett blinked, then laughed hard enough to make her chair creak. “Oh, man. It’s loud, that’s what it is. I used to be pretty normal, just another rookie grinding for my System unlock like everyone else. Then I got that shiny message: ‘Choose your class!’ So, I thought, ‘Hell yeah, I’m gonna pick something loud enough to make the dice wear earplugs.’”

Ignition raised an eyebrow. “And that’s how you became a thunderstorm with a guitar?”

“Exactly,” Jett said proudly, slapping the side of her instrument. It gave off a faint hum, static dancing between the strings. “Picked every option labeled ‘unstable,’ ‘experimental,’ or ‘do not combine.’ Turns out, if you put enough bad ideas together, you get a pretty great song.”

Alice smiled despite herself. “That… actually explains a lot.”

She pointed both hands like finger guns at Alice, electricity flickering between her rings. “So I went full upgrade. Metalstorm Bard. Stronger, louder, cooler. Turns out, it comes with a few… extras.”

She waggled her eyebrows and rolled her hips with a theatrical flair that made Ignition snort into his drink.

Alice blinked. “Extras?”

Jett grinned. “Oh, you know lightning, explosions, absurd sex appeal. All the important stats.”

Ignition coughed to hide a laugh. “Important for who, exactly?”

“For everyone, baby,” Jett said, striking a mock pose before relaxing again with an impish smile. “But seriously? Being human was fine. Being this is fun. I just crank the volume up until the world listens.”

Alice studied her, a small, uncertain smile tugging at her lips. “You’re… kind of impossible.”

“Yeah,” Jett said with a wink. “But admit it you like the song.”

Alice’s breath caught as Jett leaned back with a wolfish, knowing grin, all teeth, mischief, and danger.

“Curious little angel, aren’t ya?” she teased, her crimson eyes gleaming.

Alice froze halfway between words. “I wasn’t I mean”

“What’s wrong?” Jett’s voice dropped to a sultry growl, playfully cruel. “Cat got your tongue, Feathers? Or are you just trying not to stare?” She leaned forward until her face was inches away, one sharp fang flashing as she grinned wider. “You are staring, right? Tell me you’re staring.”

“I” Alice tried, but her throat betrayed her.

Jett tilted her head, watching Alice’s reaction. “Ohhh,” she purred, smirk spreading slow and wicked. “You’re wondering what it feels like.” She gave a lazy thrust of her hips, the motion exaggerated, unapologetic.

Alice’s face went crimson. “I I was not!”

Jett threw her head back and laughed a loud, unrestrained sound that made half the café turn to look. “Oh, that’s priceless! You should see your face! Like a baby bird that just realized lightning’s loud!”

Alice’s wings twitched in embarrassment, feathers puffing slightly.

Jett’s grin turned devilish as she leaned closer again, “Relax, angel. I’m not gonna bite.” She paused, eyes narrowing just a fraction. “...Unless you want me to.”

Alice sputtered, caught somewhere between outrage and confusion. “You’re impossible.”

“Yup!” Jett slammed her palm down on the table with a clap that rattled the glasses. “And you’re adorable! Seriously, what’s a little angel like you doing in a dive like this? You fall outta heaven?”

Alice blinked. “I what?”

Before Jett could keep going, a dry voice cut in.

“I can hear you two from across the table,” Ignition said flatly, his molten eyes narrowing over the rim of his cup.

Jett turned toward him, grin widening instantly. “Ohhh, jealous much, hot stuff?”

Ignition didn’t blink. “No. Just impressed you can make everything sound like foreplay.”

Jett gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. “Aw, I wish! If I charged per entendre, I’d own this city by now.”

Alice groaned, sinking into her seat, wings twitching in defeat. “Can we not do this right now?”

“What?” Jett said innocently, eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’m just talking! You’d know if I was flirting.”

Ignition leaned back, sipping his drink. “Pretty sure that was the tutorial.”

Jett shot finger guns at him with a loud click of her tongue. “Now you’re getting it!”

Alice groaned louder. “Why do I even talk to people?”

[Dice: Because chaos loves you, and you keep feeding it.]

The café’s low hum faded until all Alice could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat.

A faint shimmer bloomed in the air beside her, a soft tone, almost delicate compared to the roaring memories it conjured.

[Incoming Call: Quin Inspira – Guildmaster Inspira]

The name alone made her breath catch. It didn’t matter that half of Ikos probably worshiped that name to her, it still felt like a pain pressing against her chest.

Jett glanced up from her drink, one brow raised. “Ooh, dramatic lighting and a fancy caller ID? Somebody important.”

Alice’s stomach twisted. “Yeah,” she said softly. “You could say that.”

The holopanel hovered just above her palm, light bending through her fingers. She hesitated before sliding out of the booth, muttering, “I just need a second.”

She found a quiet spot near the window, the golden sandlight rippling across her face as she sat down. The panelphone’s projection followed a perfect, frameless sheet of light, Quin’s name pulsing like a heartbeat at the center.

She stared at it, frozen.

The last time she’d seen him, he’d stepped out of fire a god of smoke and pride, commanding even the air to bow. The cathedral, the twins, Seraphina’s venomous smile all of it still burned behind her eyelids.

[Answer Call ?] [Y / N]

Her thumb hovered.

She could almost hear him already, that velvet voice wrapped around iron.

“Darling.”

Always Darling, never Alice.

He’d fix things with one hand, burn them with the other, and call it balance. And after the last time after she’d finally asked him for something she wasn’t sure she could survive hearing that tone again.