PtM Book 15 - Chapter 26: Adventures in the Void (1)

Update 2022-04-14:

Part 1 of Book 14 has now been deleted to fulfill Kindle Unlimited exclusivity requirements. Anyone who was a patron before I did and missed the eBook link and wants it, please PM me. To anyone who hasn't, and has read Part 1 on Amazon, please bear the following in mind:

1. I decided on splitting the book in two because it's huge. The second part isn't yet finished, so there are a few inconsistencies that will be fixed in the future (but not here, since this is a third draft). The first is these first few chapters with Huxian in the void. In the published book, I will shuffle these chapters forward, start off with the interlude that follows, and adjust the timeline. 

2. Since it's confusing to have a Book 14 part 2 but have it show up on Amazon as Book 15, I'm just going to call it Pendulum of Fate - Part 2, Book 15 of Painting the Mists. So you are now reading Book 15. I'm not sure if I'm going to change the chapter numberings so they start at 1 yet. I just want you to know that this is book 15 and you are not in the wrong place, even though the following posts will say Book 14. 

I hope this clears up any confusion chopping the book in half has caused. Do let me know if any other inconsistencies pop up. 

Cheers,

Patrick

---

3/3 this week!

Writing update: Book 15 is coming along quite well. I should be done the first 1/3 in first draft in the next few days, then I'll loop around and rewrite that in second draft before continuing. 

--

In the void adjacent to the Shanara Mountain Range, there existed a glass fortress. It was a palace, by certain standards, but inferior in Huxian’s eyes, so he didn’t dare call it one. Yet.

It was within this building that the bulk of the void network operated. Several dozen void tunnels joined together in this location via a clever formation that regulated access, prevented teleportation mishaps, and allowed everything to operate through eight entry and exit formations.

Without this place, Shanara would have no basis for its existence. The Shanara Mountain Range was a large territory with various competing factions eyeing it. Thanks to the teleportation hub, however, it offered something that neither of the factions could even if they conquered the entire territory. It was the world’s most valuable commodity: Time.

At the center of the fortress existed a small space that Huxian called a Spirit Space. Not many knew of its existence. Only seven demons, in fact. This place existed in a region of compressed spacetime that overlapped with the entire Shanara network. While inside it, it was possible for the network’s seven owners to meet and discuss important issues.

“Testing! Testing!” Huxian said as he manifested in the spirit space. Everyone conversing here would appear in the form of an avatar, which, in his case, was a small six-tailed fox. It wasn’t a physical copy, nor a spiritual one, but rather a shadow of his true self copied over from the physical world. The avatar was very limited in what it could do and could only communicate with other connected individuals. Only those that were part of their Best Friends Forever formation could speak here.

“Can anyone hear me?” Lei Jiang said. He took the form of a pudgy purple mouse. Imaginary snacks appeared, and the mouse immediately began chewing on a piece of what appeared to be cheese.

“I hear you,” Silverwing said. He manifested as a small bird with silver wings that were now tinged gold since his bloodline’s evolution.

“Connecting.” Mr. Mountain appeared. His form was that of an illusory mountain of shifting bones. Everyone looking upon him saw something different.

“Here.” Gua said, appearing as a wary toad. He had no special characteristics beyond this, and his presence was equal to Mr. Mountain’s but lacking compared to Lei Jiang’s, Huxian’s, or Silverwing’s. Unlike Silverwing, he had yet to receive a bloodline upgrade. Without securing one, it would be impossible for him to exceed the fusion realm in this lifetime.

“Present!” Miyue and Bifang said, virtually at the same time. They glared at each other. These two mixed as well as water and fire, their respective elements. Miyue took the appearance of a regular sea nymph with clothes, skin, and hair that were now an inky black. Bifang took the form of a clumsy one-legged crane that kept falling over. Its presence was stronger than the sea nymph’s, thanks to its king-level bloodline that was only lacking in terms of quantity, not quality.

“Good, we’re all here,” Huxian said. They haven’t even started talking yet, but he knew it would be a painful meeting. “I’m glad everyone could make it. None of us have much time, so let’s make this meeting quick, and since matters of life and death come first, and some of you might need to pull out at a moment’s notice, let’s start with Mr. Mountain. Any objections?”

There were none.

Mr. Mountain’s current identity was Patriarch Sky Piercer, the nominal leader of the mountain range. He was imposing, commanded a great deal of respect, and was the strongest out of all of them if allowed to fuse with the on-element Shanara Mountain Range.  “The war is not going well. We’re holding strong, for now, but it’s difficult to say how long we can defend,” Mr. Mountain said. “We currently have no ability to retaliate and can only take advantage of defensive tactics to hold ground. Even so, we are losing ground, bit by bit.”

The war in question had erupted shortly after Huxian’s tussle with the Collegium in Titanvale. He had it on good authority that the Boneshift Badger Lord, the leader of the northern invaders, had received compensation and secret support from the monopolistic and underhanded gang of wizards to invade Shanara’s sovereign territory.

“As for the Boneshift Badger Lord, I have not seen him, only his lieutenants,” Mr. Mountain said.

“He’s probably unsure of what trump card we have and is biding his time,” Silverwing said.

Miyue nodded her head. “Agreed.”

“I can force him out easily, if you’ll allow me to channel even a third of the mountain’s energy,” Mr. Mountain said.

“That’s obviously his goal,” Huxian said, shaking his head. “That’s our reserve power, so we need to use it sparingly. Don’t do it. Keep defending as you have been.”

“At the cost of lives and blood?” Mr. Mountain asked. He looked to each of them discontentedly. “These are my people, and I am their leader. Should I not protect them from invaders as I have promised?”

“They are our people,” Miyue assured him. “And we care about them just as much as you do. Which is exactly why we need to prioritize defense but also save our reserve power for when it counts. It’s not just to gain the upper hand in some battle, Mr. Mountain. It’s to save lives. The more of them we catch in our net, the less they will be able to harm our territory’s civilians.”

This seemed to mollify the large man somewhat. “I still don’t like it.”

“That’s because it’s a good plan, and you’re too stubborn,” Gua said. flinched as all eyes in the room simultaneously glared at him. “What?”

“If you’re not going to help, feel free to leave,” Miyue said coldly. Gua gulped, then scurried back into his seat. Actually, their spirit forms were all seated at a conference style table. A round one, where everyone was equal.

“I still don’t see why we can’t just smite them,” Lei Jiang said.

“And that’s why you’re not in charge of defense,” Huxian said. “You’re doing well on punishing duty, by the way. Keep smiting those rebels and troublemakers whenever they pop up. Especially if they’re wizards. Kill them dead.” The young boy grinned.

“I’d send more people up your way, but it’s only me to the south-west,” Silverwing said. He sighed. “Too much border, not enough troops to patrol and keep away opportunists.”

“They’re only adventurers,” Miyue said. “Surely they can’t be that bad.”

“Some of them happen to be gold rankers,” Silverwing said. “You try dealing with them. Every time my scouts run into them; they get cut down before they can even parley. I only find out half a day later, and by then they’re already gone with whatever resources and beast cores they’ve plundered.

“A pity,” Mr. Mountain said. “I could really use your crimson ape regiment and your stone sifters.”

Silverwing raised both wings helplessly. “If I send them your way, I guarantee you we’ll have a human army on our backside within the week.” He turned towards Bifang, who’d yet to contribute to the meeting. “How about you. Any bright ideas?”

The young woman was now in a human form. She looked young and quite innocent, and her hair was seven-colored. She was currently sucking on her finger as though wondering which spices would work best with whatever she was roasting. Which was probably exactly what she was doing during their meeting. “Don’t ask me. Food logistics is tiring work, and whenever the fighting gets too intense, I’m right in there with Mr. Mountain.”

“She’s indispensable to our defense,” Mr. Mountain agreed. “Her powers over fortune have helped us countless times. She’s not individually powerful, but can buff our entire army.”

“Here’s a bright idea,” Gua started, but was immediately cut off.

“Shut your trap while the adults are talking,” Miyue said. “Now are you sure you can’t spare something Bifang? Anything? Maybe someone on your team?”

Bifang scowled. “You think I’m being greedy?”

“You’re only half-participating in the conversation,” Miyue said. “You’re cooking right now, aren’t you. Right this second.”

“It’s called multitasking!” Bifang said.

“I really think –“

“Gua, keep it to yourself,” Huxian said. “Maybe we could move onto Miyue first. How’s logistics and management going.”

“Quite well, actually,” Miyue said with a smirk. “Ever since we got bookworm on board, the place practically runs itself. I take care of the soft parts and actual management, and whenever that doesn’t work, I send in the poison pill.”

Gua blinked. “That’s me, isn’t it? Is it my turn to talk then?”

Huxian sighed. “It’s only fair.”

“Great,” Gua said. “Mr. Mountain, send the entire Earth Soul Clan down Silverwing’s way.”

Mr. Mountain frowned. “I can’t do that. They’re the key to my defensive strategy.”

Gua ignored him. “Bifang, send your tailwind eagles to Silverwing.”

“I need those for deliveries!” Bifang exclaimed.

Gua wasn’t done yet. “Lei Jiang, give Silverwing half your punishment squad.”

Huxian couldn’t help but cut in. “I don’t see how this is helping.”

“Then be quiet,” Gua snapped. “Miyue, you’re doing well. Send half your ink-stained night hags and half the infernal bloom clan to Mr. Mountain. Silverwing, you are going to send up the Crimson Ape regimen, because they’re slow and not suitable to your situation. We’ll monitor the situation and see how things go and adjust again in a week’s time. Huxian, can you spare the portals to make the transfer work? It shouldn’t take very long, should it? An hour at most if we shut down the network? We’ll give them a fifty percent rebate as an apology and cut down on our bull shit red tape to speed things up again?”

The suggestion was actually a good one. “Fine, I can make that happen,” Huxian said. “What does everyone else think.” Surprisingly, everyone was quite agreeable to the suggestion, despite Gua being the one to suggest it. Then again, this was one of the reasons they kept inviting Gua back to these meetings even though he was usually detrimental to them.

Having done his part, Gua naturally shrank back, and they began to iron out details. Small things like sticking points in agreements and obtaining military support from the various entities with portals leading to Shanara. Bifang left at one point, and so did Lei Jiang. If he was going to be understaffed, he’d need to change the way he did things. Evil wasn’t going to smite itself.

That left only one sticking point. “What do we do about Augustus and his pals?” This was a question that had been weighing on them. As adventurers, the gold rankers weren’t keen on fighting in any protracted wars. Scouting duty and warding off other adventurers was also unappealing to them.

“Aren’t they busy clearing dungeons in our territory?” Miyue asked.

“They were,” Huxian said. “Until they cleared them all. I somewhat regret portalling them everywhere.

Mr. Mountain frowned. “What’s the problem then? Can’t we just cut them loose?”

“I’m worried they’re going to go to Kerava and mess with the balance down there if we do,” Huxian said. He sighed. At first, having human gold rankers as helpers had been a boon. It had netted them quick cash and demonic energy reserves and cleared out the excess of curse energy plaguing the lands. As for now…

“I think we all know what needs to be done,” Miyue said. She looked to Mr. Mountain, who nodded painfully.

“Fine,” Huxian said. “Issue the hunting contract. Set up diplomatic ties with the Hunter’s Guild and give them permission to set up a base, but only if they issue requests under our rules. We’ll only take investiture-realm cores or monstrous equivalents.”

“I still don’t feel good about this,” Mr. Mountain said.

“I don’t either,” Miyue said. “But you saw those wizards just as clearly as I did. They’re hiring humans, and so will we.” She looked to Huxian. “I guess that just leaves your matters. How close are you?”

“I’m forty portals in, but I’ve hit a snag,” Huxian said. “I can’t support more incarnations, which limits my ability to monitor the network and resist attacks from the Collegium.”

“Hm…” Miyue looked off into the bleak emptiness of the spirit space. “Perhaps you should ask Clear Sky for help?”

Huxian shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Why not?” Mr. Mountain said. “With his help, you should be able to finish the portals much more quickly.”

“True,” Huxian said. “But then I’d be tipping my hand. I want to hold off for as long as possible before throwing down my ace.”

“It’s not like your bond with him is a secret,” Miyue said.

“They saw him act in Titanvale,” Mr. Mountain agreed.

All good points. “But they definitely don’t know how much of an effect he’ll have on when I set up portals,” Huxian said. “But you’re also missing out on one key detail.”

“And what’s that?” Miyue asked.

“The Collegium is using less than a tenth of what they could be,” Huxian said.

Miyue drew in a sharp breath. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope,” Huxian said. “You know more than most that it’s a numbers game. If they don’t have to spend more tying me up, why would they? As it stands, my portal system is actually costing me more to maintain than to run. If it wasn’t for the dungeons and other revenue sources, they’d have run us into the ground.”

“But it’s only a matter of time,” Miyue said.

“Exactly,” Huxian agreed. “Which is why we can’t show our cards until we reach the finish line. More to the point, I don’t think they’re aware of our main goal.”

“Completing the quest,” Mr. Mountain said.

“Exactly,” Huxian said. “Thus far, the quest has been subsidizing our efforts and strengthening us, but they still see this as a pure profit equation.” He gritted his teeth. “If it wasn’t for the fact that the network needs to expand equally in all directions, I wouldn’t bother fighting them.”

Miyue hesitated. “What happens at sixty-four portals exactly? You’ve been very vague on it.”

Huxian blinked. “I thought that was obvious. If we get to sixty-four portals, we win.” It was a bold statement. “That’s why I need to keep things on the down-low and save up trump cards. To that end, I’m going to find myself some external support.”

Miyue’s eyes widened. “You mean...”

“Exactly,” Huxian said. “I’ll be going on a small adventure into the void to recruit a few helpers as soon as I arrange for the personnel transfer. The Collegium will likely disconnect a few portals in my absence, but you’ll have to bear with it.”

“I’m concerned,” Mr. Mountain said. “What if we need your help to retreat?”

“You can’t count on my help for the next week or two,” Huxian said. “Feel free to meet while I’m gone, but I won’t be connecting in. He looked to Gua, who hadn’t left yet but was keeping strangely silent. “Any suggestions?”

“I’ll go up north as well,” Gua said. “Contracts and complaints can wait. Mr. Mountain and I work best as a team.”

Miyue frowned. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re very good help, and you’re also one of our defensive trump cards.” Among all their combination abilities, it was well known that Gua and Mr. Mountain were most compatible, followed closely by Lei Jiang and Silverwing.

Gua shrugged. “I’ll hide as best I can, but if Huxian is gone, how else am I going to make it to Mr. Mountain in a pinch?”

Huxian nodded. “Good thinking, Gua. It’s best if you’re near. As for my trip, I’ll be leaving in three days. Make sure you let me know about any personnel transfers you need before then.”

“Got it,” Miyue said, before fading away. Gua accompanied her.

“I’ll hold the line,” Mr. Mountain said. “Stay safe on your trip.” He too faded, leaving only Huxian inside the spiritual space.

He took his time there before leaving, making sure to savor its empty, calming silence before opening his eyes and ears to his modest chambers hidden deep within a spatial pocket in a nondescript corner of the Shanara mountains.

Huxian did not immediately rise but scoured his ancestral memories for the umpteenth time. Just in case he’d missed anything. As usual, he found nothing new. Travelling the void was dangerous for someone as weak as he was, despite his abilities. A single mistake could easily wipe him out of existence.

***

What was the void? What was it made of? These questions among many other void-related ones had plagued philosophers and Daoists for aeons. None of them had yet to give a satisfactory answer, so the venerable Bagua Hushao had given his descendants a concise but indefinite answer: The void was what was left in the absence of matter.

It was this inhospitable environment that Huxian would be exploring for the next few weeks. It wrapped around Huxian as he flew through its emptiness, showing off strange features inherent to it that could only rarely be seen in a material realm. The void was simultaneously tangible and non-existent. It was conceptual and concrete. It was a mixture of chaos and order in constant flux that could only be observed in the absence of a structured physical reality.

For this reason, it was important to adjust to better fit this new habitat. Not only did he need to adjust his senses, but he needed to adopt a form that would survive the harsh environment indefinitely if something went wrong.

He did so from their springboard just outside the fortress housing the main teleportation array. Shanara’s adjacent void space was relatively orderly compared to other locations.

The void tunnels leading to the network’s many teleportation formations were evenly spread in all directions. This was a prerequisite to establishing the overall formation. For now, however, they’d tip-toed around the north-western direction because this was the Collegium’s territory. It contained the smallest number formations. Other organizations and sovereign countries had been much more amenable to negotiations and profit-sharing agreements than those countries under the Collegium’s thumb.

The teleportation formations and void tunnels were a great source of wealth, but it might surprise some that they were also a source of stability. The areas closest to occupied and regulated spatial nodes were exceptionally stable and relatively uncluttered.

Huxian took this a step further. His teleportation formations radiated a bubble of protection that encompassed an area hundred times larger than the original circle; it varied based on how you measured it, from where you measured it, and when, but the general idea was that the formations were good for the local void space.

This protection thinned when it came to the tunnels and their destinations, but it was enough to ensure that no spatial turbulence or spatial dust or glass smashed into the network’s passengers as they were hurled across it faster than their minds could process the experience. As such, teleportation incidents were few and far between. Huxian’s network wasn’t just the fastest, but it was also the safest. The Shanara Mountain Range would inevitably wrest away first place from the Collegium in the Mendin Transportation Association’s Teleportation Safety Rankings.

A blast of void wind struck Huxian just as he was leaving his protected territory. “So cold,” Huxian said with a shudder, knowing that here, no one could hear him. The void winds receded within seconds, or perhaps it was hours. Time was relative here. Huxian’s energy stores were ten percent lower than they’d originally been before the void winds started. Without his void-adapted body, the winds would likely have left him disabled or crippled. Even so, he was nowhere near as sturdy as he needed to be.

Huxian took shelter from the zone of turbulence and began cycling a technique called Void Essence Turtle Breathing. It was, as the name implied, a variant on the standard Turtle Breathing Technique one could use to hold their breath for extended periods of time without oxygen. Using Void Essence Turtle Breathing, Huxian would be able to keep his energy leakage to a minimum while in the hostile void environment, while simultaneously concealing his aura as a creature from the material realms.

Due to the hazards of void space place, Huxian adopted his six-tailed fox form instead of his human form. His breathing stopped as the technique kicked in. Next came the flow of his blood. He became little more than an animated corpse, even going so far as to crystalize his blood and strengthening his blood vessels lest they burst apart.

Next came the crystallization of his muscle tissue and internal organs. The goal was to fully convert himself into a crystal being. There was no need to crystalize his hide or skin since they inherently had these properties. Well, that might have served him well enough to set up teleportation portals or defend his network, but out here, it was completely insufficient. Void space was the proverbial wild west of the universe.

Now, smaller fleck of spatial dust and smaller pieces of spatial glass were no longer a concern for Huxian. Even those pieces that cut through his fur could not penetrate his crystalline flesh before they vanished.

Normally, such damage would be unacceptable, but Huxian was not a normal creature. He used his body as a medium to execute Spacetime Devouring and consume the pieces of spatial glass that struck him, making it so that while he did not gain any energy in the process, he didn’t lose much either.

Three days passed by in what seemed like a few hours. The void was cold and lonely, and separation from the material realm caused his perception of time to become chaotic. The only reason he could tell how much time had elapsed on the Inkwell Plane was because his nature allowed him to anchor his senses to physical dimensions.

There were no active void tunnels so far out. The wilderness of void space reigned supreme. It had its own nature, its own rules, and its own living organisms, if you could call them that.

The ground here, or perhaps it was the sky, consisted of a mess of void material that pointed outwards from the Inkwell Plane’s planar boundary like stalactites on a cave ceiling. Beyond sharp peaks lay the empty void, where one could easily get lost in the bleakness between worlds. It was within this metaphysical jungle that useable resources could be found, assuming you could survive the stiff competition.

Huxian had no interested in joining the bloodbath over resources. He kept close to the planar boundary that served as flat ground to those who lived here. Every step he took propelled him thousands of kilometers in the outside world.

The further he wandered, the more activity he began to see, starting with void insects that roamed the area like scavengers in a junk yard. Seeleerian void beetles, they were called. These, Huxian observed, were the most populous species. Their primary food source was the ample spatial glass that flew through the void before settling down on the planar boundary. The Seeleerian void bettles fed by leeching excess void energy from larger pieces of void rock or void glass, thus grinding the hard and sharp materials down into more manageable spatial dust.

About a hundred species of void worms inhabited the resulting void ‘soil’. They ate the spatial dust and accumulated large quantities of primal chaos energies that could be reabsorbed by the planar boundary’s “soil” upon their death.

Most of these worms and beetles would be eaten by other void faring creatures, including void birds, void fish, void turtles, and other similar beings. The food chain eventually peaked in a way that mirrored the power structure of the adjacent plane, resulting in powerful beings that would love nothing more than to consume a fledgling space-faring god-beast like Huxian.

There was no such thing as cities in the void, so Huxian could only look for larger nomadic groups or small settlements of intelligent creatures. Stopping to ask for directions would be extremely suspicious, so he contented himself to poking through tunnels while avoiding the stronger auras that lurked in the deepest crevices that cut into the realm.

Three more days passed before Huxian became completely demoralized. “Six days. Six! And all I have to show for it is a few maggots and birds that won’t leave me alone!” The birds in questions were an amiable species called voidlight mockingbirds, and they had been following Huxian because of their innate curiosity. They were annoying, but had unique phasing abilities that made it impossible for Huxian to kill them without wasting energy.

Huxian was tired of travelling, so he stopped by a mound of void dust and himself out a small burrow. It was cozy, barely large enough for himself, but the voidlight mockingbirds followed him inside regardless of how he felt. There, he adopted his human form again and sat cross-legged to ponder his dilemma.

“The outer areas are much sparser than my ancestral memories would suggest,” Huxian muttered. “The void space is much more fragile, and as such there are more available resources too. Yet somehow, I’m not seeing more aggressive or powerful creatures. That doesn’t make sense.” There was only one way that he could reconcile these facts. “The damage to the plane must be much more extensive than I’d originally thought, and all the intelligent void faring species are located in the deeper crevices.” Those same crevices he’d taken great care in avoiding thus far.

Huxian let out a deep sigh before forming a series of hand seals, piercing through the tough outer shell of the Inkwell Plane to send a message to his friends and Cha Ming. He informed them that his absence would be a bit lengthier than he’d originally expected, then quickly cut off the transmission before anyone could intercept it.

He turned his attention to a deep gash not far away from his burrow. It ran deep into the inkwell plane, possibly extending to the plane’s ley lines, where primal chaos energy would be converted into heaven and earth qi, inkwell jades, and the many ore veins that pushed their way up from the planar boundary to form hills and mountains and other rocky and metallic formations.

“It looks like I have little choice,” Huxian said. “There are only a few sentient species that can help me, and if they’re not here, I can only risk it.”

Having made up his mind, he began to make additional preparations. His demon body was already adapted to void space, but there were certain tools that would come in handy in perilous situations. Among them was a dozen or so void piercing blast fruits that he’d procured form Cha Ming, as well as some voidbane stones that, while lacking offensive properties, would serve to nullify void techniques his opponents might utilize.

The first needed no processing beyond encapsulation in a spacetime shell that would freeze its contents in time. The instant he released the seal, the contents would detonate. Forming these seals was easier said than done, so he failed in his first few attempts. In the end, he was left with nine void piercing grenades.

Voidbane stones were useable as is but would be easier to work with if he altered their forms. It was impossible to carve voidbane stone with spatial energy, so Huxian could only channel the energy in his Time-Torching Eyes into a small scalpel-variant of his demon weapon, which he then used to whittle away at the pieces of ore to create voidbane spikes. These six-inch long objects were sharpened into a needle-like points, which, thanks to their voidbane energies, could even pierce his void-adapted form’s hide and gravely injure him.

He managed to fashion twenty voidbane spikes from the materials on hand. The rest of the voidbane stone was also quite useful, so he ground it into voidbane dust, which he packed into fifty small satchels. Not spatial satchels, because that would probably result in an explosion.

“I must be suicidal,” Huxian concluded as he looked over his new equipment. It should be mentioned that all cultivators, be they demons, Daoists, or demigods, would avoid venturing through void space until they reached the fusion realm, law stitching realm, shell marking realm, or gold rank. Even then, they would definitely stick to established void tunnels, only venturing outside them if their powers reached the middle stage at the very least.

Alas, Huxian was desperate. He placed the spikes and satchels on his body and stored the void piercing blast fruit grenades inside his personal storage space. He then tried to chase away the two voidlight mockingbirds, thought about killing them, but ultimately decided against it. Killing such creatures was considered bad luck.

He re-oriented himself to perceive the void rifts as ‘down’, not ‘up’, despite the fact that they pierced into the protective shell of the crumbling realm, essentially shooting upwards towards the inkwell plane’s surface. He’d need to get used to the strangeness of it.

Void winds blew past him when he was less than a food away from the rift’s ledge. This time, he was prepared, so the void winds barely affected him. He placed one careful claw after another on cliff ledges, careful of the darkness and wary of what it held.

“Easy does it,” Huxian reminded himself. “It’s not a race.”

Huxian’s luck was clearly terrible, because before he was even fifty meters down, he heard a blast in the distance. A curtain of void winds and turbulence and spatial glass came forth in a wavefront, threatening to consume him.

At the center of the storm was a fledgling Shattervoid Roc. It was being chased by a group of void faring creatures on a ship. Of course, they had no idea Huxian was there, nor would they care even if they did.

The only thing Huxian could do was brace himself. He summoned a spacetime shield as the wind struck him off the cliff and did his best to protect his vitals.

The winds slammed him around like a pinball. His only saving grace was that the particles in the storm were small, and no one was specifically after him. The Shattervoid Roc passed him, and so did the ship, and Huxian found himself falling.

The Inkwell Plane’s boundary exerted a variant of gravity on Huxian, pulling him down into the crevice. Friction was non-existent here, but Huxian used his control over the void to slow his descent and glide. The darkness parted to reveal a tropical location that seemed strangely out of place. “What in the…”

That is when he noticed the storm clouds and the void lightning. The first strike broke his shields, and the second strike made him lose consciousness.