Jaless stopped at the ridge, eyes tracing the distant silhouettes of the ten mountains, his voice low and steady.
"This isn't coincidence—Outermarch Six was designed to look like nature, but it's geometry pretending to be stone."
He exhaled, wind tearing at his cloak as the peaks loomed like silent sentinels.
"Each mountain stands ten kilometers apart so no single force can claim dominance, yet together they form a perfect ring—pressure balanced, power contained."
Jaless finally turned, gaze sharp, almost accusing.
"At the center sits the Headquarters, because whatever stands in the middle of a circle doesn't need to chase threats—everything eventually moves toward it."
His voice dropped to a near whisper, the air itself seeming to listen.
"And if the circle ever breaks… it won't be the mountains that fall first—it'll be the world inside."
"Gareth can you hear me..." , Jaless stared at the silent Gareth irritation etched across his face.
" Gareth!!".
Gareth's eye's snapped back to him.
Gareth laughed it off , voice sounding hollow and distant.
Jaless didn't smile, he only approached and sat across him.
"Gareth you've been acting differently ever since yesterday. This isn't you."
Gareth pondered about the truths in Jaless's voice.
"Im just worried about my friends. I'm an outsider. I come from beyond the wall. At least that's what Thyssara told me."
Jaless stiffened. "The Wall?" His voice dropped, sharp with disbelief. "There is no wall beyond Outermarch."
Gareth met his gaze, unblinking. "There is—past the fog, past the dead trees. A wall so vast it cuts the sky, built to keep the rot and the monsters in …"
His jaw tightened. "And to keep the tribes in."
Silence followed, heavy and suffocating. Jaless finally whispered, "Then everything we call freedom… was never meant to leave."
Gareth reached out and patted Jaless's head lightly, almost gentle.
"Easy," he said. "Keep this between us—for now. Some truths don't protect people… they cage them."
Gareth stood abruptly, cloak swirling around him, and started toward Outermarch Six Headquarters.
Jaless fell into step silently, keeping pace as the mountains loomed closer, until they reached the massive, stone-clad building.
Gareth strode up to Thyssara Nightspire's towering office, raised a hand, and knocked sharply.
The door swung open under his push, and he stepped inside alone, leaving Jaless lingering just beyond the threshold.
Gareth sank into the chair, posture rigid, eyes wary.
Thyssara smiled, sharp and effortless, her presence filling the room.
"Welcome, Gareth. Tell me—how does the base feel to you? And your friends… are they settling in well?"
Gareth's eyes narrowed. "They are well. Thyssara who is Elder Cael Ardentis?"
Thyssara's smile didn't falter. "One of the Elders. Beyond that… his information is classified."
Gareth leaned forward, voice sharp. "I need to know—what does he want? What is he planning?"
Thyssara's hand shot out before he could speak again, a sharp slap across his cheek. "Some doors aren't meant to be opened, Gareth."
Gareth's jaw clenched, eyes burning. "A friend of mine… he was captured by Cael. I don't care about secrets or plans. I just want him back."
Gareth glanced down at his hands, crimson staining his palms. He exhaled slowly, voice low but resolute. "I have to… I have to save him."
Thyssara sighed, leaning back and resting her legs on the table, a mocking smile curling her lips. "And why the fuck should I risk going that far… for you?"
Gareth met her gaze, unwavering. "Because if you help me, I'll take you… to the world beyond the Wall."
Thyssara's smile widened, intrigued by the promise.
"Do you even know where he's being held?" she asked, eyes glinting.
Gareth nodded. "Yeah… a hill. There's a secret door, hidden from plain sight, that leads straight to a cell inside."
Thyssara's eyes flickered, a pale white glow tracing the air like light itself bending to her will.
"50 kilometers," she murmured, voice calm, almost amused. "From this mountain to the hill where your friend is held."
Her gaze sharpened, angles and lines of sight forming invisibly in the air as she calculated, every landmark, tree, and ridge snapping into focus.
"I see it all—baseline, parallax, angles… the door, hidden in plain sight, leads straight to the cell."
Gareth watched, awestruck, as her glowing eyes swept the landscape, every movement precise, effortless, godlike. "Then we know the way."
Thyssara's eyes glowed faint white, calculating the impossible. "We'll cover the distance in five minutes. Can you keep up, Gareth?"
Gareth straightened, jaw tight. "Yeah… probably."
She smirked, then vanished down the hall. Moments later, she returned in loose black tracksuits that hugged her curves, accentuating every line, every movement. Her presence was magnetic, impossible to ignore.
She handed Gareth a set of black clothes—a t-shirt, jeans, and a long trench coat. He took them, gratitude flashing in his eyes. "Thanks."
He hesitated, glancing at her glowing eyes. "How… how do I make mine glow too?" She laughed, sharp and melodic. "Focus, Gareth. That's all it takes."
Her expression softened. "And… about yesterday. I tore your clothes. Sorry for that."
Gareth waved a hand, shrugging, voice calm. "Nah… no problem."
They tore down the hill at six hundred kilometers an hour, wind screaming past, every stone and tree a blur.
From afar, Gareth caught a glimpse of Town Magma, faint and glowing under the pale moonlight.
They plunged into the forests, shadows swallowing them, and in exactly five minutes, they stood before the hill. Gareth grinned, exhilarated, adrenaline thrumming.
He grabbed Thyssara's hand, and together they leapt into the Shadow World, where the air shimmered with ghostly white human silhouettes—the guards. They moved past them carefully, shadows stretching and bending around each form.
They approached the secret cell, walking slowly, each step measured. Inside, a single white silhouette crouched, malnourished, weak. Gareth's blood boiled. He reached to strike one of the guards.
Thyssara's hand caught his wrist, firm, unyielding.
Gareth exhaled, a slow, dangerous laugh. "And… how exactly are we supposed to pass the metallic bars to save him?"
Gareth froze, a casual smile stretching across his face, as a scream echoed from another cell, sharp and desperate.
Without hesitation, he moved toward the sound, Thyssara still behind him, her hand gripping his, her own lips curved in a quiet, knowing smile.
The shadows of the corridor stretched long, the white silhouettes of guards drifting past unnoticed, while both of them walked forward, calm and unreadable, their smiles unshaken.
Gareth and Thyssara watched the white silhouettes of the busty, curvy woman crying, bound and trembling.
A guard's shadowed figure moved over her, and Gareth heard the horrifying screams, unable to see the details.
Something sharp struck her silhouette—an eye lost—but in the Shadow World, he could only perceive the violence as jagged white shapes.
Thyssara's hands gripped the cell bars, muscles straining, and she ruthlessly yanked them free.
The guard on top looked back, confused, seeing only dark silhouettes as the bars shattered around him.
Gareth clenched his teeth, scanning the hallway of cells, each echoing with screams that stabbed at his mind.
Rage boiling, he approached another cell and focused, telekinetically bending the metal bars, terrifying a sleeping guard whose silhouette shot upright.
The white figure ran to warn others, but Gareth remembered the first day he had lifted an entire hill and knew this would drain him.
The ground trembled beneath them as Gareth's focus tightened, white silhouettes frozen mid-scream, shadows stretching like thin smoke.
He raised his hands, veins pulsing, eyes closing as the sheer force of his Veil reached outward, threading into the massive hill itself.
The prison walls groaned, stones cracking and splintering as the hill began to lift, slow at first, trembling under its own weight.
Guards' silhouettes scattered, bodies frozen in disbelief, as the earth itself obeyed a single will, metal bars bending like reeds under his invisible hands.
The hill rose higher, dust and debris whipping around, screams echoing as the guards' white shapes tumbled in panic, trying to flee the impossible.
Gareth gritted his teeth, muscles straining, every heartbeat hammering with the cost of the power he wielded, knowing this would drain a portion of his Veil like never before.
A guard's silhouette tried to escape the floating prison, but the hill tilted slightly under Gareth's control, a subtle but deadly warning of the weight above them.
Thyssara's lips parted, breath catching as the massive structure hovered perfectly still, shadow and stone balanced, the impossible achievement leaving the world below in stunned silence.
Gareth opened his eyes, cold, calculating, and with a thought, the hill slowly descended toward the seventh mountain, each movement precise, deliberate, unstoppable.
She growled, "Why the f*** did you do this?" as Thyssara stepped back, fear in her eyes.
"How… how can your telekinesis lift an entire hill?" she whispered, voice trembling.
Gareth's gaze was hard, unflinching. "There will always be consequences for me using this much power."
He said nothing more, dragging the massive hill atop the seventh mountain, placing it down with deliberate precision.
Entering the prison again, he found every guard dead, white silhouettes fallen in unnatural positions.
Thyssara's voice was quiet, matter-of-fact. "I had to kill them."
Her eyes locked onto his, reading the fury and pain, and she murmured,
"This is why power rots so easily."
"Men like this always mistake strength for permission."
Gareth stepped out of the Shadow World, reality crashing back in, and for the first time he truly saw her—an adult woman on the stone floor, sobbing, clutching her bleeding eye, blood slick between her fingers.
"I'm sorry," Gareth said quietly, the words heavy, understanding settling in at last—this world wasn't mercy, it was survival of the fittest.
He pulled her into his arms and struck once, clean and controlled, knocking her unconscious before the pain could take more from her.
He turned to Thyssara, voice firm, decisive. "Take the blue‑haired woman. I'll drag every prisoner out of here." His eyes hardened. "Then we will move—straight to the Sixth Mountain. Back to our base."
Far away, High Elder Cael Ardentis received the report in silence, eyes narrowing as the details settled.
"The Seventh March," he murmured coldly. "They moved the entire prison there… reckless."
Then he paused. The pattern didn't fit. Too clean. Too deliberate.
"No," he said slowly, a smile like a blade forming. "Someone wants us to fight the wrong enemies."
His gaze hardened, murderous resolve locking in.
"Let them hide," Cael whispered.
"I will find them… and I will kill them."