"So," Dryad said between sips, stretching her legs under the table like she had all the time in every universe, "you've officially been here fifteen days. That's forty-five Earth days, give or take. You adjusting to that kind of math yet?"
I leaned back in my seat, staring out the rain-speckled window.
"I mean… the first time it happened, I didn't even notice. The whole spider situation in the Unknown Zone? Thought I was gone for, what, days?"
"Days," she said, lifting her cup and swirling the syrupy golden liquid inside. "Your body was technically still in Earth-time, but Erae pulled your soul faster. Time gets… sticky."
Sticky was a good word for it. My memories of Earth were starting to feel like static, sharp around the edges, but always just out of reach.
Forty-five days. An entire month and a half had passed on Earth.
"And Earth's still… fine?" I asked, voice a little unsure. "Stable?"
"As stable as it can be. The HODs are still out there, but none are storming the cities anymore. The Faction Masters locked down the Branches. We're not losing new land."
I exhaled slowly. That was good news. When I was last there, there were rumors of the HODs attacking and going rogue. But it seemed the Faction Masters managed to hold them off.
"But…" Dryad hesitated for the first time. "Singapore's gone."
The words hung in the air like a lull in the harp strings.
"I figured. Last I heard, Syntara's Descent was hitting us harder than anywhere else. When I left, the sea was literally boiling."
"Stat reports say it took ninety-seven percent of the Thauma's impact. The Second Thauma focused entirely on Singapore, like it was a beacon. It didn't stand a chance."
I didn't flinch. I didn't cry. I didn't blink. I just nodded, as if my bones already knew what she was saying before she said it. Dryad sipped again.
"Survivors were extracted to Japan and China. The Marimus Faction helped with that. Most of the eastern cities are fortified now, branch-locked. Safer than they've been in years."
"Branch-locked" meant protected with a full dome of neutralized Flux barriers, impenetrable and beautifully boring. Boring meant safe. Safe meant alive.
"Well," she said, tapping the rim of her mug, "you're officially listed as dead."
That one made me snort.
"Great. Now I can fake my own ghost sightings."
"I'm serious. No records of you surviving. Your tracker signal went dark after the Thauma event. And with no retrieval logs…"
"I get it."
I didn't want her to sugarcoat it. Not when I already knew.
"It's not like anyone would care," I said, maybe a little too quickly. "I didn't exactly have a welcome parade waiting back home."
Dryad raised an eyebrow at me, and I could feel her not saying anything. She had that face again. So I let the words out slowly, tasting each one like rainwater on my tongue.
"I wasn't from Singapore, okay? I was from Northern Europe. Grew up in a little town. I only ended up in Singapore because of the lockdown orders when the First Thauma hit."
Dryad leaned in slightly, listening, never interrupting.
"My parents…" My fingers tightened on the cup. "They didn't make it. ABR exposure. Weren't strong enough to handle it. By the time I could've gone back, I was already registered in as a refugee. Then they shipped me to Singapore's Branch to work as a tour guide. Fancy title, but it was glorified babysitting for new recruits."
"You didn't try to reach anyone?"
"There was no one to reach. All I had were the buildings I couldn't enter again and names I couldn't say out loud without breaking something."
I was halfway through a second pastry when Dryad glanced up, one brow raised like she was deciding whether or not to say what was clearly boiling in her throat.
"So. I've been thinking. I want you to come with me to the Concord Discussion in Amsterdam."
I blinked. "You want me to what?"
"The Concord Discussion. Amsterdam Branch. You know, the meeting where representatives from all five Eresnae and Earth's key remnants gather to talk about not getting themselves blown off the map."
I nearly dropped my cup. "Dryad. I can't go to that. That's political top-tier stuff. I'm not even supposed to know about it."
She tilted her head. "Sure you can. You're my plus one."
"I'm not—" I shook my head, laughing. "I'm not some diplomat. I'm not royalty. I'm just—"
"I am my stepmother's disappointment," Dryad cut in, her smile oddly soft. "Which, in our circles, is pretty much royalty."
I froze.
"Wait. What?"
She sipped her rain syrup coffee like this was normal conversation.
"I'm the half-daughter of Suprema Beta."
No. No, she wasn't. There was no way. I stared at her, my jaw half-hinged like an idiot.
"You—you're a Suprema's daughter?"
"Technically," she said, waving her hand. "Born from a different mother, not part of the main line, yadda yadda. But yeah. My bloodline traces to the Abrivers."
The world tilted.
"The Abrivers are Phaser and Gamma's family, if you didn't know. They are one of the nine bloodlines that control almost every significant power structure across Earth and Erae."
"You live in a reverse apartment and eat bakery bread every week."
"Because my step-siblings cast me out when I was twelve. Didn't inherit the Flux they thought I would. Didn't fit into their game of legacy. The Abrivers took me in and trained me."
I… didn't know what to say. Because Dryad never acted like she came from power. She didn't walk with that weight, didn't throw around names, didn't posture. She was just… her. Smart. Annoying. Too attractive. Sharper than any blade I'd seen since I came. But behind that teasing exterior, she was part of a bloodline most people would kill to breathe near.
"So yeah, I can go. And I can take a plus one. Phaser's taking someone else, and Gamma already agreed to let you join. You're fine."
"Gamma told me not to go. She said it was too dangerous."
"Correction. She thought it was dangerous. Until I convinced her."
"How?"
Dryad leaned forward, eyes flickering in that unmistakable dryad-glow she always used when she was being serious-serious.
"I have a Flux you don't know about. It prevents people from detecting secrets near me."
"You mean—?"
"Anyone who's standing with me can't be read, not scanned, not Flux-assessed, not mind-echoed. Not even exposed."
That was a whole different level of power. It meant she could walk into the Concord without anyone knowing who—or what—I really was, especially if I was god touched.
I stared down at the remnants of my coffee, heart thudding too loud in my ears. Concord Discussions weren't just some international summit. They were where worlds collided, literally. Politics, alliances, whispers of the gods. Anyone who meant something showed up there.
I heard about it a few times when I was working in the Marimus Faction but I never expected to actually be in one.
"What if I mess it up?"
"Then you'll be the prettiest disaster in diplomatic history."
"That doesn't help."
"Look, if you want to know more about this world, the world you're now a part of, you can't keep ducking from it. You've seen the mines. You've seen the monsters. You've fought. Now it's time to see the strings being pulled."
I didn't answer right away. My mind kept looping back to Earth and the burned-out shell of Singapore.
"...If we have time, we can swing by your real home in Northern Europe and see what's left. Or what's still waiting."
I looked at her. Dryad wasn't just being kind. She was inviting me to step through the looking glass. To stop being someone who survived, and start being someone who chose to live.
"Okay. But I swear, if I end up on a global livestream in some dumb dress, I'm deleting both our lives."
"Phaser's coming too with his plus one. So at least you won't be the only socially anxious wreck in the room."
I blinked. "Wait. Who's his plus one?"
"Wouldn't you like to know."
I groaned into my palms. What was I getting myself into?
Whatever it was, I already knew there was no backing out now.