As Ethan doesn't have a life force source to spare, he waits for the screams to cease. The man's soul is extremely weak. He's not far away from falling into a coma from life force exhaustion.

Ethan steps onto the altar. He feels a pull on his soul and lets go to it, entering the sea of souls. A figure sits not far from him, curled on themselves.

A shockwave ripples through the void, and the darkness molds into a squad of guards in black armor. Their steel masks stare at him as they charge, spears in hand.

Ethan imagines all the ways he could deal with them, seeing himself tearing them apart at speeds they couldn't understand. Each wound he previews, each impact he plans for damages the images until they fall. Their forms vanish at Ethan's feet.

The world twists, plunging Ethan into the dead forest surrounding the city. The scent of rotting flesh invades his senses, underlined by blood.

A vulture tearing apart the corpse of a man raises its head to look at Ethan, a heart in its beak. It extends meters-wide wings made of damaged, bloodied feathers and shrieks. Dozens of others do the same, appearing on the dead trees before flying towards Ethan.

'No wonder Lucian's man is in this state. He probably saw himself die,' Ethan thinks. He raises his right hand and forms it into a maw and ears, imagining Russ swallowing the entire flock. He closes his hand, and the vultures pop into bloodied feathers.

The world reforms into the vast ceremonial hall Ethan crossed to descend to the altar room. Lit braziers burn cold green flames. Hundreds gather in silence. At the center kneels a young woman, head bowed.

Kaliathra appears from thin air at the woman's side, holding a crowned porcelain mask. But as she appears, Ethan feels the weight of her soul like a blade to his chest. It comes with the electric touch he once felt, and he senses that everyone in attendance feels the same. But like the guards, he knows they are fragile creations.

"I can tell you were far more skilled than me in life. These are masterful images. I can feel the individual fear, doubt, pride, and awe of every person you recreated. But you do not have the will to protect them." Ethan reimagines the horrific corpse dragon that once attacked this place, filling the air with the stench of death. The roof tears apart as the beast drags it away with its macabre claws. It roars in wet gurgles, and the people flee in desperation, breaking the illusioned world as they trample it.

The darkness of the sea of soul reinstates itself. Before Ethan, a small figure sobs, curled up on the altar. She looks like an adolescent child, dressed in a priestly robe and wearing a porcelain mask.

'Is this a trick?' Ethan ponders. He unsummons the monster and tries to sense the soul's emotions.

"Stay away!" she cries. Fear and shame echo to Ethan – fear of death and the shame of having failed to defend this place.

"I won't hurt you," Ethan says. He moves his soul away to give her space. "Are you bound to the altar?"

"Stay away," she repeats weakly. Coldness echoes to Ethan's soul, seeping into his bones.

'She can't hear me,' Ethan thinks. Alaric willingly bound himself to his altar for the prosperity of his order. What child would do the same? The cold invading Ethan's bones moves to his blood, climbing up his limbs towards his heart. He pictures the memories of lying peacefully in the sand, letting the noon sun warm his flesh after hours of spearfishing.

The child, given colors by Ethan's memory, stands in surprise. Her white dress and pale skin shine under the Pacific sun as she turns to see the ocean. She stares at the crashing waves until a couple of teens startle her as they run after one another.

Sensing how this simple display of normal life warmed her up, Ethan gives in further to the memory. It was a simpler time, one when there was nothing to worry him. He was free until the summer ended, and it was weeks away. For once, his father had made time for them and was grilling their catch on the terrace's grill of their rented beach house. Ethan wills the scents of the grill to waft over the scene, making even himself hungry.

"Am… Am I finally free?" she asks, still looking at the ocean.

Ethan comes to her side, looking at the waves. "It's just one of my memories."

"I wish I had memories like this one,' she says. Tears drop from her mask and are absorbed by the warm sand.

"What happened?" Ethan asks. He imagines skewers of grilled fish in his hand and gives one to her. "Why are you bound to this altar?"

"I… I was training to become a Soul Keeper," she begins. She takes the offered, imagined food, and removes her mask to eat. She truly looks like a child. The scene changes as she overpowers Ethan's soul, placing them back into the altar room. Others, wearing the same robes as her, surround her as she sits at the center. At least a hundred of them occupied the room. "I was being taught to commune with the altar. But we were attacked."

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A figure made of mist descends the stairs. Ethan can hear their footsteps and their breath and even feel the impact they have on the Ether. But their image is intentionally altered from what it was by the girl. Ethan can feel her struggle to only represent their actions and not their image.

Blades of dark mist spring from everyone's shadow, inflicting mortal wounds to their hearts or brains.

"Because my body died while my soul was in the altar, I was stuck here, with nowhere to return, nowhere to go," she says. The formless figure steps onto the altar, and Ethan feels crushed by an increasing gravity. Fear echoes into Ethan' mind, the dread of someone knowing they'll be denied the afterlife they were promised. "He was about to destroy me."

The reenacted feelings of pain coming from the hundred souls surrounding them turn silent. The pressure Ethan feels vanishes, replaced by an all-encompassing numbness. Kaliathra appears before the misted figure, grabs him by the throat, and lifts him off the ground.

"You have no right to interfere. Not without a Herald," the figure says. His voice makes Ethan certain that it is the Herald of Darkness. He breaks into a sinister laugh. He doesn't bother to struggle against her grasp and talks as if his throat wasn't being crushed. "You cannot keep him; he's his now. You are only delaying the inevitable and will be punished for it."

"I have tolerated you cheating death far too long," Kaliathra says, unreadable behind her mask. Death Ether, so dense it shimmers like green ribbons of light, escapes her to dig into him. Anger billows from her, invading Ethan like only the thrill ever did. "Your trinkets will not save you. I'll destroy these remnants of your soul and take you to the deepest cell of my realm, never to be resurrected again."

The Herald of Darkness grabs her arm, and thrashes against her grasp. His soul was closed to her, or the girl refuses to reproduce what she might have felt from it. He pleads, "Think about the consequences. The other gods will hunt your cults down for this; you'll be forgotten."

"You took him from me, forever! And you dare think threats will save you!" Kaliathra's reproduced wrath jolts Ethan's blood, waking up the thrill from its slumber. Then, she freezes, and her wrath vanishes. Even behind her mask, Ethan can tell she's staring into the void. Her hand unclasps as she returns, dropping the Herald to the ground.

The Herald laughs as he stands up. He walks past Kaliathra to return to the altar.

"I won't kill you. But I will stop you," Kaliathra states. The air thrums as Ether gathers into Kaliathra from all around, turning the surroundings into a void. She changes language from Eldorian to Aetherian. "These grounds are now forbidden to you. They will inflict on you the pains your brother felt when you destroyed his eternal soul."

The ground shakes as her Ether rolls out like a wave, imbuing itself into the ground and into the Herald.

The Herald screams in pain and falls to his knees. He dives into his own shadow, vanishing from the scene.

'She could have crippled him forever in fewer words,' Ethan thinks. He glances to the side, remembering all he heard or read about gods acting on the mortal world. 'Did she lessen the area and effects on purpose? To avoid crossing some line?'

Kaliathra lowers herself to get to eye level with the girl's soul. She brings her hand to her mask and removes it. Ethan cannot see her face from where he is, and like the girl then, his soul is paralyzed by the electrifying presence of the goddess. "You are the last of your order, and I need your help. He and his minions will not be able to approach, but others may come. I hate to ask this of you, but could you protect them until the day they are needed one final time?"

"As you command," the girl struggles to answer.

"This is a request, not a command," Kaliathra corrects.

"I… I will," the girl reiterates.

"Thank you," Kaliathra says. She places her mask back on and vanishes.

"I cannot tell you who the man she cursed was. It's for your own good," the girl says.

"I know who he is; you don't have to," Ethan reassures.

She asks, "Could you convince the others to leave this place? I don't have the strength to repel them much longer."

"They won't bother you again," Ethan promises. Yet, he cannot stop himself from thinking he didn't come here by chance. The master of the Realm of Ascension teleported him here at the right time to find Lucian. He reforms the image of the beach, making them leave the gloom and cold of this place. "I have to ask. What is in the vault?"

"Cursed warriors whose souls will never know the afterlife. It will vanish when their bodies die, forever lost," she explains.

"So, they are still alive?" Ethan asks.

"In a way. They are deep asleep, unable to age, frozen in time." The girl shifts the scene to a time before her death. One of her colleagues, wearing a robe and mask, fights a soldier in black at the center. They engage in a spar, emphasizing posture and technique. "People were coming to us to meet the souls of these warriors through us."

'Not that far from the Abyss Watchers," Ethan thinks. "And what about the waves of dark Ether that summon and strengthen the undead?"

"I don't know," she answers. "It only happens when I am threatened, like it wants to help me. But no one with these powers should be in the vault."

"It didn't try when I approached you," Ethan comments.

"The others waited hours before trying again. It must be tired," she theorizes.

'Then there is nothing useful to Lucian or me in there. At least not for now,' Ethan thinks, wondering what Kaliathra might have planned. He watches the reenacted spar, taking in the techniques used by fighters with strength and speed far exceeding a normal man's. "How long have you been trapped here?"

"I don't experience every moment of it. I don't even know what happened to the rest of the city," she answers. "I wake up when someone tries to open the vault, or a few times at random. I'm not sure, but I think I remember being able to stay awake longer at first. But now, when you leave, I'll slumber right away."

'Like Alaric said. Without a body to restore the soul, it slowly deteriorates,' Ethan thinks. Could he use True Death on her, sending her to Kaliathra before she's gone forever? He banishes the thought. Until he knows what Kaliathra referred to, it would be reckless.

"Can you show me the sun again?" she asks.

Ethan takes over and dissolves the altar room. He places them atop a mountain, the ruins of a pre-Columbian temple scattered around them. The sky is still dark, cut at the horizon by a thin line of light.

The girl steps forward, her porcelain mask glinting with the first touch of dawn. She stares at the horizon, taking in the light.

Warmth seeps through the scene – not only the physical touch of light, but also the innocence of his younger self. The light grows, painting the clouds rose-gold. Mist unravels from the jungle canyons below, fleeing the sun. Animal life awakens in the distance through the chirps of birds.

"Could you stay a little longer?" she requests.

"For a little while," Ethan agrees.

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