Day in the story: 16th December (Tuesday)

As Penrose finished recounting the events, I looked at him with newfound certainty. I may have stepped back into the devil's nest offering partnership, but deep down, I came with one purpose:

To end him. One way or another.

Peter sat quietly through it all, stoic as stone. It was him who finally broke the silence that lingered after the last of Penrose's words.

"That was five days ago," he said flatly. "You're not going to tell us what's happened since?"

Penrose turned toward him, coin rolling slowly between his fingers.

"Peter," he said, voice calm, "I presume you consider yourself part of the agreement now? Your presence here was... questionable from the start. If I'm to share more, I need to know where you stand."

He gestured vaguely toward the space between us, the invisible line we all felt.

"Alexa decides whether she helps you, and with what," Peter replied. "I'll help her if—and when—she includes me."

Penrose tilted his head slightly, a polite smirk forming. "Subcontractor, then. An acceptable outcome. A little shortsighted on your part, perhaps."

Peter didn't even blink. "Was that supposed to be a joke?"

"You could read it that way." Penrose spun the coin once and caught it. "You've already lost an eye. You don't fear for the other? Or your life? This isn't work for a law student, Peter. Not when we're up against players who deal in shadows and sorcery."

He tossed the coin up, caught it and let it roll across his knuckles with practiced ease.

"I asked Damien for a vial, for Rei. A drop of Lebens' miracle soup."

He glanced at me. "He refused, naturally. But since you have better standing with that stubborn idiot, perhaps he—"

"I don't need it," Peter said, cutting him off.

Penrose's fingers paused. "No? Your eye means so little to you?"

I prayed Peter wouldn't make this about pride.

"I'll live," he answered. "As you said." He glanced at me, a dry smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. "Maybe Alexa will paint me a new one."

Penrose gave a low chuckle. "I'm positively surprised by how you've turned out, Peter. You remind me of Thomas."

"I'm nothing like him," Peter replied, sharp and firm.

"Exactly. He would say the same thing," Penrose replied, that mischievous smile never leaving his face.

Peter, thankfully, didn't answer.

I had to admit—despite his brutal honesty, or maybe because of it—he really knew when to speak and when to stay silent. He'd learned that.

"The question remains, Mr. Penrose," I said, eyes narrowing. "What happened in the last five days?"

"Alexandra," he said smoothly, "since I am no longer your employer, but a partner, I believe you can drop the Mister and call me Phillip."

"That'll be a hard habit to shake, sir."

"I understand, but I encourage you to try."

He twirled the coin between his fingers again. "As for the last five days... I might surprise you, but I left them out because, frankly, they've been rather uneventful."

"That's hard to believe, given how things ended."

"Alicia chose to work with Robert, now that he's taken control. From what I've gathered, with the Mafia behind him, he's setting his sights on U.S.G."

"So he did manage to kill Giovanni and take control?"

"Details are unclear. The body hasn't been found, but Robert produced an act of ownership showing majority shares." Penrose's smile turned cold. "So either Mr. Giovanni has been scattered to the wind by Mr. Akira, or... they're keeping him somewhere. For reasons I don't yet understand."

"What's the current state of affairs, then?" I asked. "You called me while I was gone, so I assume you wanted something." I paused. "Phillip."

The word tasted foreign in my mouth.

"It wasn't the necklace, so what was it?"

"I wanted to reach an agreement with you." He shrugged. "But you beat me to it."

"You need me for logistics?"

He grinned wide. "I adore talking to sharp people. I wish I could find more like you, Alexandra. Or you, Peter, for that matter."

He finally placed the coin on the table, flat. A gesture of focus.

"Yes," he said. "There's no one else who can move across the world—or in and out of Ideworld—faster than you. I'm willing to pay whatever you fancy to have you move my people where I need them."

"I need to know why," I said. "I'm not taking part in another drop where you kill a kid for personal gain."

"All of these drops would be for my personal gain, Alexandra," he replied calmly. "What other reason is even worth pursuing?"

It was like talking to the devil himself.

"I'll need a case-by-case breakdown before I make myself available and even then, I may cancel for personal reasons."

"That's unacceptable. You can move between worlds in an instant. You can make time when we agree on something." His face was harsh like the profile stamped on a coin. Unyielding.

"Then let's phrase it differently: when I do accept a job, I will do everything I can to deliver on my word."

"That," he nodded, "I can accept."

"Why do you want your people out there?"

"I want to establish a permanent outpost," he said, "inside the so-called Mirrored City, if possible. To trade with anyone powerful or bold enough to move through it."

"Sir, the Mirrored City is too dangerous. I can't take your people there."

Better for him not to know I'd already been.

"Anything close will suffice," he said. "We'll make our own way from there."

"You underestimate the dangers."

"That will be my concern. All I ask of you is a way in. Can you do that?"

"Yes." I paused. "But I didn't need to know what happened between you and EoT to accept this assignment. Why tell me all of it?"

"EoT isn't my concern right now, Alexandra. I got played into getting tangled up with them, and now I'm untangling myself. Alicia will probably come to me sooner or later, but I'm telling you so you'll know what happened if you run into them in Ideworld. I know they've set up their gate and are using it regularly. What for? I have not gained that information yet"

"A Bobby-powered gate?" I asked.

He laughed at that.

"The same."

"How does U.S.G. come into play in all this?"

"They've built three outposts, each linked by working gates, all in New York. But none of them are near the Mirrored City or Manhattan—which, from what I've gathered, are the most valuable locations in Ideworld's version of the city."

"You're not expecting any pushback from them?"

"No. I already made a deal with them." That was unexpected. "I won't disclose the terms to a contractor, though."

"I understand. When do you expect the first transport?"

"My people can be ready by six tomorrow morning at my compound. Where exactly will you be dropping them?"

That was the question. I could paint almost any of the places we'd passed through… but did I want them close?

"Chinatown," I said after a moment's thought. I wasn't going to risk their lives trying to trek from the Suburbia to Manhattan. Penrose raised a brow, clearly surprised.

"That's very close, from what I've heard. Yet here you are, saying it's an extremely dangerous place."

"What can I say? I'm a resourceful woman."

"You are indeed."

"I'll be going now," I said, standing and placing a hand on Peter's shoulder. Penrose was already drifting into thought, no doubt mapping out his next plays.

"Is Thomas among the people going?" I asked, just before the jump.

"No. He's staying with me. Rei goes, though."

"I'm glad we came to an agreement… Phillip."

I said it as a farewell. He nodded, and I teleported, taking Peter with me.

I dropped the act the moment we landed inside my Domain. My voice broke as I asked, almost in tears:

"Peter… please tell me you'll be okay."

I couldn't bring myself to look at his maimed face, not yet. All of it again, because of me and my decisions.

"This?" he said, pointing at his missing eye. "Look."

He tilted his head slightly, waiting. I finally forced myself to raise my eyes.

What I saw was nothing short of majestic.

His exposed skull was being repaired by a miraculous dance of shadowlight, water, blood, and cells, each element moving with eerie purpose. First, the bone reformed: clean, white, perfect. Then came the sinew and nerves, weaving together in delicate, intricate order.

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At the center of it all, a new eye began to take shape, a glowing orb of blue, silver, and white, born from the swirling mix of elements. It pulsed once with light, then settled into place as if it had always been there.

I blinked in amazement. When I opened my eyes again, both of his were looking back at me, calm, steady and whole. Even the blood on his face had been swept away, absorbed and repurposed into the miracle I'd just witnessed.

"Your power is amazing, Pete. It's far beyond Nick's regeneration."

Once I'd seen it, I couldn't forget this miracle. Every thread of cell and tissue seemed to work in perfect harmony with shadowlight and water, stitching him back together like some divine tailor.

"It's easier when it's my body being repaired," he said. "I've done it before, during my trial, and later with the guys while you were sleeping. It's instinct for me. I just command the water inside me to accelerate everything. People are mostly water, after all. But healing you? Even surface wounds were hard. Fixing your body was like… fighting in a foreign land, if you know what I mean."

"I understand. I'm glad you're okay… and I'm sorry again."

My gaze dropped, the weight of guilt pressing harder with every word.

Then his left hand caught my chin and tilted my face back up. He smiled.

"Lex, sis. No more of that sour mood. You've been broken before, you'll rise again, same as me."

His confidence made the burden a little lighter.

"We went to deal with Penrose's threat, and as far as I'm concerned, we succeeded, right?"

"Oh, I'm sure the necklace will come up again eventually," I said. "But I think he won't move against me now."

I drew a deep breath, letting my awareness sink into my soul core, its swirling colors shifting like liquid light.

"I think… despite everything, even my turning against him, he's somehow fond of me. Proud, even. Which is good for my standing… but it makes me sad that he sees himself in me. I don't want to be like him."

I turned to Peter.

"Am I? Am I like Penrose?"

"Yes," he said. "You're like him in many ways… but you're not him, and you never will be. You can be direct and unstoppable, but never ruthless—and he is that. You can put your needs first like he does, but then you soften and think of others too. I doubt he's ever done that."

"I feared that was the truth. Thanks for not sugar-coating it."

"You know I never do. Listen, you've been taught, conditioned even, to accept that doing things society calls bad is fine if it's for your personal gain. And that clashes with what you feel when you look at the world and really see it, right?"

"Sometimes."

"I chose words carefully, because I think not everything Penrose taught you is bad. Society can be wrong about a lot of things. I'm worried you've started labeling everything you learned from him as wrong."

"Yeah… I think you might be right."

"He forced you to learn languages. Is that bad?"

"No."

"He taught you to move your body—to be agile, fast, strong. Is that bad?"

"No."

"He encouraged your passion for art. Is that bad?"

"No, Peter, I see where you're—"

He didn't stop.

"He taught you that killing is sometimes necessary, and you shouldn't feel bad about it. Is that bad?"

"No, I don't think it is."

"He taught you that taking from someone isn't bad. What was his reasoning?"

"If they don't want it stolen, they should protect it with everything they have."

"And you? Would you protect what's most valuable to you?"

"With my life. I get your point. I'll… try to look at it all differently."

"I know you will. You always dig for the truth. And I know you see him for what he is—a scumbag who thinks only of himself. You might have the same skills, but it's the motivation behind them that matters."

He was right. Why something happens is just as important as the act itself.

"Thanks, Peter. You helped."

"Want to see my Domain? Just for a minute or two?" he asked, smiling but with a hint of uncertainty.

"Of course," I said, and the doors out of my Domain materialized instantly. I stepped toward them, Peter following close behind. I glanced around for Sophie's shadow, but she was nowhere to be found. Probably already at Uni.

Peter moved to the door leading to his room and opened it. The scent of fresh ocean water hit me first, followed by the distant crash of waves. I barely had time to take a breath before my balance faltered and I jumped through after him.

It was magnificent.

The door we'd just passed through had transformed into an arch of golden sand, each grain glowing faintly in the sunlight. As soon as we crossed, he let it dissolve, every particle tumbling lazily down to meet the warm surface beneath our feet. The sand was impossibly soft, not coarse, and not the slightest bit sticky. It shifted gently underfoot, yet somehow felt as steady as solid ground.

Peter's Domain was an island. No walls. No boundaries. Just an endless horizon of ocean, waves curling and breaking against the shore. Parts of the beach gave way to jagged stone outcroppings—as if the earth itself had risen to meet the sea—but the water still found its way through, spilling into narrow canals that wound inward toward the heart of the island.

I tilted my head back. Above us, no ceiling. Only a vast, cloudless blue sky and a miniature pale sun, casting warm golden light despite its ghostly color.

Only then did I follow the small canals with my eyes toward the center.

"Pretty cool, ah?" Peter asked as I took it all in.

It was a fortress—or perhaps a palace—shaped, I guessed, from his very soulcore. Jagged crystal walls rose skyward, framing a massive entrance, and within them threads of white and blue shadowlight pulsed and danced, brightening and dimming in rhythm with his heartbeat. All around, vibrant greenery—plants, bushes, and trees alike—softened the crystalline severity.

We stepped inside, moving deeper into this cathedral of soul crystal. The floor beneath us was polished smooth, no sharp edges, just perfect clarity. Below it, water, pure, glass-clear, teemed with life. Colorful jellyfish drifted lazily, schools of bright fish darted in synchronized bursts, and far below, the shadow of a whale glided slowly through the depths.

We walked down wide, empty corridors, the echo of our steps softened by the water below. I wondered if these halls had once been full, if his family, ancestors, or others who had used this Domain had left their presence here and now only he remained, keeping it all pristine and untouched.

After minutes of silent awe, we reached the heart of it.

A massive column of crystalline soulcore stood before us, at its center a swirling vortex of water shaped into a perfect orb. Shadowlight twined through it, moving in rhythm with the water's spiral, light and shadow woven together, alive.

I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

I dropped to my knees and cried.

"I didn't expect such a reaction," he said, kneeling beside me. "What's going on? You don't like it?"

"It's… amazing," I managed, wiping at my eyes. "I didn't think it could be this massive. Nick never told me theirs was, but… I never asked either."

"I feel connected to it," Peter said, glancing toward the swirling core. "But a lot still feels closed off. When I touched the center column, it was like my soul wasn't ready yet to receive everything inside, like it has to grow first."

"Yeah, that's what Nick told me," I replied. "With legacy Domains, your soul grows to match the power already built by your ancestors. Mine's different, my crystal grows along with me." I hesitated, looking around again, drinking in the beauty. "Peter… can I paint this place? Visit it from time to time? I've never seen anywhere more beautiful in my life. Maybe I never will."

"You will always be welcome here," he said.

Something in his tone shifted, deepened. He might not have realized it, but those words carried an authority that struck me like a wave. It wasn't just permission; it was an opening. I felt weightless, carried, free… and safe.

"Peter," I said softly, "do you realize you just opened your soul to me?"

"I did, but only after I said it," he admitted. "But I stand by it. Come whenever you like."

"I wonder if my own Domain will ever reach even a quarter of this grandeur," I said, still turning slowly in place. "I've noticed recently that it's changed. Shaped itself around how I feel about myself. I guess it should have been obvious that something tied to my soul would reflect that… but it wasn't back then."

"This one reflects the souls of the previous owners more than mine," Peter replied.

"That's probably true," I said, "but still… I feel you in it. It fits you, and you fit it. When I look at my Domain now, all I see is a cage I've built for myself—forged out of my own shady deeds and… art. I don't know how to escape it."

"I don't know how to help you," he admitted. "Maybe you'll find an answer in time."

"Maybe." I drifted closer to the crystalline walls, letting my gaze sink through them toward the ground below, where marine life was busy simply existing. "You think those fish are real?"

"Yes." He stepped forward, and part of the floor gave way like melting glass, forming a hole just wide enough for his arm. He reached into the water below and pulled out a small fish, silver and trembling in his hand. I stepped closer, studying it—it felt real, looked real. Perhaps shadows cast by this place, but with life of their own.

Peter lowered it gently back into the water, and the floor sealed over it without a seam.

"You could trap people that way," I said.

He laughed softly. "I don't think anyone would want to fight me here."

"That's what I thought, and yet Penrose went and killed a kid inside his own Domain."

"True," Peter said, his voice turning solemn.

I turned in a slow circle one last time, drinking in every detail, every shimmer, every shadow, so I could paint it from memory later.

**********

When we returned to Earth, Peter headed straight to the kitchen for something to eat. I grabbed my phone and tried calling Shiroi. No answer. It made me a little uneasy, but jumping to conclusions felt premature. He could easily have gone into Ideworld, same as me, now that Robert had access to a gate.

So many pieces were on the board now, each placed by different players. Once, my life was simpler. Thieving was simpler. I was given a job—survey, plan, execute. In and out. Now, I felt like I'd been left on the board the entire time, forced to keep playing, and it was wearing me down faster than anything I'd done before. This wasn't how I operated. And it wasn't just me. The people I'd become tangled with were still there too. Robert. Akira. Phillip. Rhythm. Alicia. Even Eveline, somewhere out there.

It was like swimming through mud, free to move, yet constantly suffocating. I hated being back here in New York, with all of them circling. Chasing Jason had been better; at least then I was focused on one single task.

I jumped back into my Domain and sat at my painting station with my Grimoire and watercolor pens. I began sketching Peter's Domain. The process grounded me. Each line came easily, as if flowing directly from the dreamlike landscape I'd just left. His soul core seemed to become the entire fortress of water, shadowlight flickering in its walls and floors.

When the outline of the room with the central column was ready, I began adding color—whites, greys, violets, blues—until the swirling mass of water at the heart of his island came alive on the page. By the time I drew the final line, I felt something stir within my aura, a deep connection, stronger than most I'd formed outside my own Domain.

I decided to jump there again, without Peter this time. His soul didn't resist me at all. I pressed my palm to the page, chose my destination, and the world shifted. A heartbeat later, I stood before the swirling orb of water at the Domain's heart. From here, the crystal walls looked like the sunlit surface of water seen from beneath, light playing and dancing across them to my delight.

I decided to walk around a bit. I'd never traveled far from New York, so visiting another plane of existence deserved some proper sightseeing, didn't it?

I traced the walls with my hand, crystalline surfaces smooth as ice yet warm to the touch. They felt like sunlight kissing my skin. Soon I reached a chamber the size of my whole Domain, and it was a feast for the eyes. Not empty—far from it.

In the center rose a rocky protrusion, and from it jutted the ornamental hilt of a sword. So fucking cool. Like Excalibur! No—wait. The one in the stone was Caliburn. Arthur got Excalibur from the Lady of the Lake.

I stepped closer to that thing of beauty. The blade was exquisite, looking equal parts metal and water, as though the steel were ice and a river flowed within it, swirling, turning and shifting. Its currents pulled my gaze to the hilt, wrought from silver-bright metal. When I touched it, it was cold yet brimming with authority. Images unfurled in my soul: vast, still lakes. Depths unexplored. A world teeming with potential.

When I pulled my hand away, phantasmal traces of blue and white shadowlight clung to the air, ephemeral threads fading like spider silk caught and broken, drifting slowly down. Mesmerizing.

I tore my eyes from the sword and looked around the chamber, free at last from its spell.

The place was heavy with Authority. Flowing, raining, crashing like waves. And it was bound into the relics that filled the room: vases brimming with water, horns and nautilus shells, cups carved with tidal patterns. Ship sails were folded neatly in one corner, a trident laid across them as though stolen straight from Poseidon himself.

Along one wall, dozens of iridescent scales the size of my head glimmered, each one set at perfect intervals. In the corner stood a display of armor fashioned from manta ray hide and sharkskin. Piles of coins and rings glittered like a pirate's hoard, scattered but reverent.

This was no simple chamber. It was a shrine. A cathedral of all things waterborn, miraculous in every detail.

I forced myself to step back, retracing my path to the main hall. If I lingered even a moment longer, I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to leave.

As I reached it I moved closer to the central column, drawn in despite myself. The soft sound of the water inside was almost hypnotic. I raised my hand, meaning only to touch the crystal, but before I could, tendrils of blue and white shadowlight rushed toward me from within. When they met my skin, I saw not Peter's soul, but the Domain's own essence.

It knew me.

It judged me.

I was like the water—changing my face and nature to become whoever I needed to be. I was a fierce, relentless current, carving my path through obstacles like a river finding the sea. I was a mirror, reflecting the world's truth back at it through my art. And I was the vortex, pulling everyone around me into my orbit, consequences be damned. The Domain saw this in me and it offered to let me claim its power.

I tore my hand back, stepping away on instinct. My heart pounded. It had deemed me worthy, but I refused.

[I almost drowned, Alexa. Thank you for pulling away.]

Anansi? This hurt you?

[Yes.]

I'm sorry, girl. I didn't know this could happen. What would have happened to you if I'd accepted?

[I'd be gone, and so would your soul core and Domain.]

I didn't realize.

[If you'd accepted the call, you'd be pulled into a trial. I wouldn't survive it.]

I'd never abandon you, Anansi. I swear. I truly didn't know.

I jumped back to my Domain, collapsing onto the couch. I hadn't expected Peter's Domain to accept me, but what it had shown me rang true. I was like the water, in part. But it was wrong about one thing: its power could never suit me. This realm, my Domain, was mine alone, shaped by my will and my flaws. I would never trade it away, not even for the promise of immortality.

And yet… something inside me had shifted. I felt it in my soul, the same quiet, unsettling change I'd felt when the Voidling touched me.

I walked to my soul core and pressed my palm against it, searching for the black rivet that marked my soulmark of connection. It was gone. In its place flowed a new mark: an infinity knot made of endlessly moving water. Still a connection, but remade, redefined. I liked it far better than the old blackened tool.

For me, it wasn't just a mark. It was a quiet act of defiance, a reminder that another force had tried to claim me, and I had refused.

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