People woke.

Small conversations were had. Nothing important. Nothing major. Everyone had had big dreams, though.

“Wanna talk about it?” Mark asked Sally, as she sat with him on the deck of the Dreadnought.

“Nah. I’m good.” Sally looked at the tumbling sky. “Just sitting here for a while.”

Mark sat with her.

Soon, the Dreadnought neared the section of the layer that they would need to cross to get closer to Isoko’s kaiju target. A few kaiju had appeared in the ‘night’, but they were all sleeping things, from the sleeping giant spider, holding on to the side of the layer and walking on invisible webs, to the sleeping sun wolf, that was curled into a ball of illumination and softly shining as it slept. They were both absolutely magnificent to even look at, from the spider’s shiny black carapace to the golden glowing fur of the wolf.

And now, with everyone awake, they were ready to cross the layers.

Mark stood at the forecastle of the Dreadnought, Union connecting everyone together. Mark focused on Isoko, and on the desire to empower her to Sky Shaper heights.

Lola’s voice came over the comms, “Focus on the desire to find Isoko’s target. That is all that is needed. Everyone, focus; Mark and Isoko especially. How many times do we need to do this Mister Cybersong?”

Eliot said, “The scanner is showing 4 layers, 150 kilometers, directly ahead into the wall of the layer and beyond that way. We’re close now, and we could be there in 4 hours. It’s just a matter of crossing into layers we can cross into, without dying. Air layers only. Water layers are acceptable; the ship can take it… probably. Land layers are right out. We can’t do that yet. Fire and most elemental layers are also a no-go.”

Mark looked ahead, at the ‘wall’ of the current layer.

It was not actually a wall. It was a speeding-up part of the air stream they were currently in. Past this place was dreamland, and in those dreamlands the clouds and the sky mixed with everything else. Fast-moving air became fast-moving water or fast-land. Some ribbons of stuff out there were slower, though.

Those slower parts were other layers.

Mark didn’t have the understanding to know what he was seeing when he first saw Endless Daihoon, but now he did.

The slower moving parts were other layers. Stable, constant.

The fast moving parts were dreamlands. Unstable, temporary.

The dreamlands were ‘fast moving’ because they were constantly churning into and out of reality.

If the Dreadnought fell to a dreamland, then they’d have little time to get back to a layer, any layer, before the dreamland disintegrated, or ‘rejoined the Darklight’ according to Tartu. If that happened then the Dreadnought would fall into the Deep Dream, and they’d probably all die. Almost no one ever came back from that.

‘What about those that did come back?’ Derek had asked.

‘We’re not those people. If we fall to a dreamland that is threatening to fall apart then we will all escape through a rift that I will make. Mark will need to grab air and surround us all, probably, so we don’t die of hypothermia or whatever other terrible events that happen in outer space, or deep inside the Two Worlds. Endless Daihoon alsogoes inside the Two Worlds, too! Keep that in mind,’ Tartu had responded.

Mark wasn’t going to let that happen.

He was going to navigate the way forward, making the land stable through Purpose. Mark opened his heart to that action, and Purpose flowed into the Dreadnought, into everything within 600-ish meters.

The wall of the layer deformed in that action, as Mark manifested his own ‘dreamland’. It was like a flash freeze onto a cold pond, already primed for freezing.

Isoko spoke over the comms, “Aiming for that airstream ahead. The scanner says it’s 50 kilometers away. We should only be in the dreamlands for 20 minutes.”

“I can do this forever, Isoko,” Mark said, “I’m ready.”

“Me, too!” Derek called out.

Isoko’s voice was a quiet thing on the air, “Me, too.”

The air calmed and Isoko pressed forward into the calmness, the Dreadnought moving slowly, and then quickly. Eliot spoke about pouring on the power. Isoko gunned it, and the ship lurched, fast and solid. The adamant engine, the mithril/brightspeed engine, and the internal hover rings of the ship, were all joined in unison through Eliot’s power and Mark’s Purpose.

The ephemeral edge of the layer bulged like a breeze falling out of line, and then the Dreadnought slipped fully out of the layer.

They left the breeze behind, while bringing a bit of the breeze with them.

The ship sailed on, through an eye of a storm of its own making.

The layer directly ahead was air, but it might not have been air that the team could breathe. It looked clear, though, and so they headed that way, toward perfectly clear skies with no clouds in them at all.

And everywhere besides surrounding the Dreadnought, the land moved like icebergs made of reality. Shifting, crashing, but not really shifting or crashing at all. It was a churn of lands that became islands. Islands that floated in the sky. Sky that rained down into underground caverns. And then caverns that became rivers.

How close were any of those places?

Mark had no idea.

And then, straight ahead, lay a calm layer of land. Sandy desert. Rocky, too.

That rocky dreamland suddenly flowed in front of them, becoming way too close. It got bigger and bigger and bigger, and soon that rocky land took up the entire sky forward. It was land and they were going to crash. Panic gripped many people in the ship, but Mark held steady, purpose-driven, the air around the ship holding well—

“We’re gonna fucking crash?!” Sally asked.

“There’s a sand kaiju on Port!” Derek called out.

“We’re not stopping!” Mark declared.

The rocky kaiju to the left, far to the left, roared.

Mark roared back, “We’re sailing here!”

The Dreadnought sailed forward and Mark’s Purpose shattered the dream ahead, breaking it into pieces and then casting it to the sides. Rocks and dirt swirled around the edges of Mark’s bubble of Purpose, and the path toward the clear sky reappeared.

The Counter-Call of the sandy/rocky/whatever kaiju passed behind them.

Isoko gunned it and the ship sailed on through reality bending skies.

The Dreadnought rapidly approached the layer of clear sky and Mark noticed a problem.

Waterswirled around the edges of Mark’s Purpose. That water came from the layer ahead. The one they were aiming at.

Mark said, “I think the clear air ahead is actually water— No! Wait! It’s not water—”

“Fuck-fu—” Eliot said, “It’s alcohol! We’re fine!”

“Alcohol?!” Derek asked.

Isoko laughed, “Someone dreamed of enough alcohol to make a demon out of it?!”

Tartu said, “Maybe?!”

And then they were in the layer of alcohol, and Mark’s purpose failed in contact with the layer. Stinking, pungent alcohol flowed into the ship, surrounding them, enveloping them. The air Mark had brought along rapidly splashed into the river of alcohol like bubbles in a bath, and then they were deep in the drink. It got into his lungs, into his eyes, but he was adamantium and… he was fine. The ship was sealed. Mark… hung out in the alcohol? He supposed?

… Nothing happened?

The ship sailed forward, down the path they needed to take, Isoko at the helm.

Eliot reported, “Containment is working. It’s alcohol and some is getting in. The fumes are contained and being cleared.”

“Fires?” Lola asked.

Eliot said, “No fires. Any worries about fire are unfounded because it’s pure alcohol, and it’s not able to combust without oxygen. I’ll keep it out there and we’ll be fine here. Where is the next layer? … Do we even have a navigator—”

Isoko must have been looking at the map because she said, “I got it! It’s that way… that… There! That one. The air one! Now that

one is obviously air, right? It’s got clouds!”

Sally asked, “Are the plants in the pantheonic garden okay?”

Mark looked backward and saw greenery floating away. He snorted alcohol… which was only minorly unpleasant. He was already breathing the stuff, he supposed. He wantedto say, ‘The garden is not okay’, but that wasn’t happening.

Lola reported, “Looks like some outdoor plants were not moored properly.”

“… It’s fine,” Eliot said. “Continue!”

Isoko had to angle the ship more to the left to go ‘back upstream’ to catch the proper direction to the next layer over, to get closer to the target, but that was fine. Isoko soon reported, “We skipped a few layers back there. The target is 1 layer over, now. That air one isthe layer I want”

Mark smirked and gave a big thumbs up from the forecastle, using his adamantium to make a giant hand.

Eliot said, “I hope we don’t burst into flames when we get to the air… It’s fine! You know what? It’ll be fine.”

The alcohol layer was rather serene, really. Nothing seemed to live in the alcohol at all… or at least that is what Mark wasthinking.

“Oh my gods,” Derek exclaimed, joy in his voice. “Look at that!”

Some monkeys were sitting on barrels, inside bubbles of air, drinking yellow and orange mai tais that they dipped out of the alcohol. They didn’t even make the drinks. They just dipped their glasses into the alcohol, and the alcohol becamemai tais in that action. They even gained little cherries on plastic swords and little umbrellas. Some monkeys were getting bananas on their little plastic swords, and those monkeys were having a grandol’ day.

The congregation of monkeys on barrels lasted a while.

Hundreds of barrels. Some full rafts. Some single planks. Everyone was getting drunk.

They hooted and hollered at the Dreadnought as it passed, but they didn’t do more than that.

Mark waved at them.

They waved back.

And then the Dreadnought passed the monkey civilization.

“Is that normal, Tartu?” Sally asked, as they left sight of the place.

“Fuck if I know,” Tartu answered. “Probably not.”

Soon, they were close enough to the next layer to attempt a crossing.

Just beyond the alcohol, far beyond some roiling lands, lay an eternal storm. Clouds roiled. Lightning flashed. Eliot already reported that the ship was going to be fine.

Isoko declared, “Final check for layer switch!”

Mark gave another thumbs up from the forecastle as he Unioned with Purpose; to find Isoko’s Sky Shaper-flavored prismatic mana, at the core of a kaiju that he would kill.

Everyone reported ‘Ready!’.

And then Isoko pressed forward, into tumbling dreamlands once again. Alcohol held all around the Dreadnought in a light, slippery sphere. It was fucking heavy, according to Eliot who was looking at the readout from the engines, but it was fine. They’d drop it all off soon.

The trip between layers was short and soon alcohol spilled into the stormy sky, washing away in a storm of wind and no rain, ripping the clear liquid toward the right, down the layer.

Lightning flickered distantly.

… Mark suddenly worried about lightning and alcohol.

But Eliot spoke of fire preparations, and how the main shields of the ship were ready to counteract sudden flares—

Alcohol spilled into the stormy sky, swirling into the storm, and then lightning sparked on that alcohol even before the Dreadnought fully entered the layer. Fire spread, igniting the world around Mark and the dreadnought in a great, calm fireball. But it did not explode. There was simply too much alcohol to do more than burn rapidly.

Fire wormed down into the depths of the alcohol, fracturing the sphere of alcohol that the layer tore away from them.

Thenit exploded.

Mark was completely fine.

Quark kept a view of the ship in Mark’s view, because everything was fire and Mark couldn’t see shit. But he felt his team and he saw the ship’s readouts, and…

Mark spat burning alcohol out of his body, hacked it out of his lungs, and spoke in the flames, “Everyone okay?”

Eliot said, “Looks like… Yes? Yes, we’re all okay. That was high PL alcohol, too, 75. High PL fire, too!” Eliot chuckled. “You drunk yet, Mark?”

“My throat feels like it’s on fire,” Mark said.

Small mirths filled Mark’s senses.

Mark said, “I’m good.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Sally said, “Garden is on fire.”

“It’s fine!” Eliot said, “I’ll put it under a dome next time!”

Sally sagely said, “That’s all Drakarok asks.”

A few people laughed—

“There!” Isoko said, focused completely on the goal. “The target is 30 kilometers ahead… Oh sh— What is that

?!”

Wind buffeted the ship, billowing the flames higher and higher, fire spreading into the storm, illuminating everything, including Isoko’s target, but barely. The storm was dense.

Clouds parted, for but a moment.

An 8-legged horse the size of a kaiju stood in a cavern of hurricane clouds, grazing on the breeze, munching on the storm. It had clouds for a mane and tail, and hooves that shimmered rainbows, solidifying the clouds with its power. Its body was pure white, almost iridescent, and two great Pegasus wings flickered on its sides.

The kaiju eyed the flaming ship with stark intensity.

And then it went back to eating the clouds.

“Sleipnir?!” Lola declared, almost exasperated. “Impossible! That’s a myth!”

Mark didn’t know what that was, but if it was just a myth that was fine.

Mark could kill a myth.

Flames spilled off of the ship, whipped away by the storm, and the clouds covered the horse kaiju again. Lightning spilled across the world, and a rush of cloud covered up the ship, whipping away the rest of the flames. Patches of wood failed to burn here and there as moisture assaulted the Dreadnought.

The clouds cleared again and the horse was 10 kilometers to the left, standing tall on a mountain of storm, eyeing the Dreadnought.

“Ah,” Mark said, mostly to himself, squaring up against the kaiju. “I see. You reoriented. Okay then.”

Eliot said something. Lola said something else, about how it couldn’t possibly be a legendary mythical beast from Norse mythology, but it certainly looked the part. Sally declared this whole thing completely nuts. Tartu said something about how it had to be a nightmare turned kaiju, and Sally asked if that was really how it must have happened. All of them wanted to avoid the fight. To leave right now.

But Isoko was focused, her voice a calm desire in the storm, cutting through all interference, “Scanner says cat 5, high speed, wind control, unknown powers.I want that horse.”

Mark said, “I’m gonna get you that horse.”

Eliot said, “Activating high-power mode. We can maintain it for 20 minutes.”

The ship suddenly solidified, the air crackling with force, the Castellan shield vibrating to life beyond the edge of the burning ship. The fires went out instantly. The wood got harder under Mark’s adamantium.

And then the ship slipped forward like the world was frictionless and the storm didn’t matter. The Dreadnought buzzed through clouds and rain and lightning scattered off of the ship.

Isoko said, “Sleipnir on the move.”

The horse kaiju took a step off of the clouds, rainbow hooves flickering on storms like the storms were solid land. And then it moved. 8 hooves charging, 8 legs eating up the sky as it rushed at the ship. Wings close to its body. It was moving fast. Quark and the scanners in the ship estimated a 4x Speed modifier.

Made sense, Mark thought, 4 pairs of legs. 4X Speed.

Mark took David’s words to heart, and he did not instantly switch to Alacrity/Slowness, but he did rip into the air with Adamant/Ethereal, gripping the world with strength and using his own natural speed-of-thought Kinesis to rip into the storm, right at the kaiju.

The world flowed.

The black dot aimed at the target.

The wooden ship teetered into the storm, pulling hard to the right, angling for distance from the fight.

The horse flowed at the ship, uncaring about the black dot, maw opening, fangs exposed, feathers rippling all across its body, hooves slamming the sky, turning it to ground. Lightning flashed from hooves. Lightning struck a yellow shield and skittered off of the shield, into the flowing winds of the hurricane.

The black dot ripped small flames through the air as it flowed on that lightning, toward the source, toward the horse that was so much more than that.

Black lightning crackled out of the dot, into the world, into the horse.

The horse neighed and roared, shattering the sky, the storm evaporating for one brief moment.

It knew it was prey, at that moment. It had known it was prey all its life.

And so the horse ran, turning fast, wings expanding from its flanks as it prepared to crash the sky with power.

Wings extended outward, bright and shining and oh so iridescent—

Alacrity/Slowness.

Mark went with the flow, into the storm, to grab onto the feathered flank of the horse, like a flea attaching to a giant. He burrowed fast, slamming through feathers into coarse skin. Sleipnir whinnied, crying out in pain at the sudden disruption to whatever it had been doing with speed magics, but it still moved fast even with Mark sped up so much. It cracked its wings down into the storm—

Sleipnir was suddenly 40 kilometers forward, according to Quark’s rapid calculations of distance. The Dreadnought was way back there, like a minor yellow sun among the clouds.

Mark got the impression that Sleipnir could have gone a lot further if Mark hadn’t grabbed directly at its speed, and that the only reason Mark’s grab had worked at all was because Sleipnir wasn’t readyfor the disruption. The kaiju’s thoughts were little more than direction and purpose, and now it was gearing up for another flap of its wings. It knew it hadn’t gotten far enough away.

Mark pulled hardon Alacrity/Slowness, and suddenly the world stilled.

Mark remained moving.

He ripped forward, through the solid air of Endless Daihoon, like pushing through dirt, gripping at feathers, like grabbing rungs on a ladder. Soon he arrived at the kaiju’s neck, where the major arteries of a horse would have been. There was absolutely no way to garrotte thisbeast. Its neck was 100 meters wide.

So Mark made a good 10 meter length of adamantium and tried cutting. Feathers went like clipped steel. The blade stopped at the skin, due to the skin flexing too much.

A circular saw of adamantium was the next option.

Mark crafted the blade 10 meters wide, with hand-sized teeth, and then he spun it around himself, throwing out caltrops to grab onto the strong feathers as he spun his adamantium faster, faster, faster, into the feathers of the beast. The more the kaiju tried for speed, the more speed Mark was able to pull. Feathers shattered away like clipped steel rods.

The skin vibrated under the teeth, but then the teeth caught.

Skin parted. It was tough and meters deep, but Mark managed to cut through some important layers of skin, and then he was in the fat. In the blood.

Mark had found the jugular and blood spurted in slow motion.

Mark turned the blade sideways and carved forward, running up the neck of the horse—

Red fountained. Too much. Too fast.

Simply opening the jugular vein wouldn’t kill most kaiju, but it was neat to see that it existed at all. This must have been a real horse at one point in time. A real fucked up horse, of course, but a real horse.

Mark followed the length of the vein, making sure it was good and open. In a flash, Mark opened up 50 meters of horse, feathers scattered everywhere, and red flowed into the world like the opening of a dam.

The kaiju started dying immediately, its heart giving out.

Unexpected.

Where was Isoko?

Mark glanced backward and was surprised to see the Dreadnought flying this way. Quark tagged it as 20 kilometers away and gaining fast.

That brightspeed crystal and ‘full power mode’ was coming in handy!

Also, Sleipnir was dying and its speed magics were not going well for it. Speed was making it die even faster.

Several lakes’ worth of blood already flowed into the storm, spurting like a gushing rain of red. And then Sleipnir’s heart gave out, which was so weird, because usually kaiju took a lot more to kill than this. But it was dying. There was no mistake about that. Its vector was already fading down to its heart, located deep within its chest.

… was Sleipnir this weak?

… was Mark really this strong?

Sleipnir had tried to run at the first sign of trouble, though. So maybe it was a cat 5 in power, but not in defense? Or maybe Mark really was this strong? He hoped he could be. He hoped this wasn’t justa lucky strike.

Mark smirked at that thought, and then he flew away from the dying body of Sleipnir, into the sky. Was Isoko ready? Mark looked, and yeah. Isoko was ready.

Isoko stood on the roof of the Dreadnought, looking this way, Full Platinum, air curling around her. Mark could only see her because Quark magnified his sight. Otherwise she blended into the world like a mirror.

Mark hoped this worked out how they wanted.

… Sleipnir was beginning to fall through the sky, though, so…

Mark went and got Isoko, knowing that she could handle some speed, since she already had a speed modifier. It was up to 2.5x, last Mark heard.

Mark held in the sky next to Isoko, about 100 meters away, linking to her with Alacrity.

Isoko suddenly sped up, platinum winds flowing around her fast, as she launched into the air, right for Mark, saying, “Ineedasword,Mark!”

Isoko was moving faster than Mark right now, and soon she zipped up past him, into the sky.

Mark moved to catch up, even as he formed a katana crystallized with purpose and handed it over. Isoko gripped the sword and was more driven than Mark had ever seen before.

It was a goodlook on her.

Isoko landed at the cut Mark had made in the vein in the neck, which was some logic Mark hadn’t thought about, but he could appreciate. The jugular vein was about 5 meters wide and it was already empty of blood. The jugular went towardthe heart, too. Could she get to the heart in time, though? Surely, yes.

She dove right in.

A strangely profound pride jolted through Mark’s body and mind.

Mark couldn’t see her anymore, though, and he started to panic. He felt her about 40 meters into the artery, and she slowed down, but Mark was still feeding her Alacrity, and the kaiju wasn’t fully dead. They took a while to die. It would take a while to fall down to the edge of the layer, to fall into dreams, too.

Mark pulled on its power as much as he could, feeding it Slowness in turn—

The heart beat once.

Isoko suddenly slipped forward, through the jugular, about 100 meters into the body, and she was in pain, but she was fine. She had Union going and she was healing herself and Mark tamped down his worry.

And then she was in the heart.

Sleipnir suddenly died, its vector vanishing completely.

Isoko remained, but her vectors went internal, completely.

The kaiju horse began to fall out of the air.

“Holy fuck holy fuck,” Mark panicked and rushed into the body, following the vein just like Isoko had, blood and darkness filling his vision.

Sleipnir began to fall faster as it died more completely.

But Isoko was right ahead of Mark, right in there, in the warm blood.

Quark blared a warning about the edge of the layer—

Mark burst through blood, into an exploded pocket of air with Isoko floating in the middle of it all, clothes gone, eyes closed, gently glowing prismatic and holding her knees to her chest. She seemed at peace. Fulfilled. Mark’s sword was to the side, in a huge cut in the heart.

The sword wasn’t coming loose, so Mark left it behind as he grabbed Isoko in a ball of adamantium and got the fuck out of there, back up the jugular while the entire body flopped and moved around him. Caltrops ripped at blood and Mark ripped forward faster. Suddenly the blood was gone, and there was sky and the Dreadnought.

Mark ripped out of Sleipnir’s neck, into the sky, dragging Isoko’s sleeping chamber behind him.

For a moment everything in front of him was calm, because the storm was far overhead. Mark’s rotor blades didn’t catch on anything, because they were already past the edge of the layer. They had fallen too far. But Mark reached forward, too far, almost past the range of his capability, like a man reaching for the edge of a cliff. Caltrops fell out of range. His rotor almost slipped from his control.

And his rotors caught on wind.

Mark ripped into the storm winds and pulled Isoko out of the dreamlands with him, fully entering the stormy layer once again. The 8-legged feathered horse fell into nightmare and fantasy—

A distant neighing caught Mark’s attention and he snapped backward for one moment.

Sleipnir’s corpse twitched. Its head flexed.

And then its many legs jerked as a wing turned over and it crashed into lightning, vanishing from sight. Into the depths of dream.

Gone.

Mark didn’t care about that anymore.

He hauled Isoko upward, into the stormy sky, breathing too many sighs of relief.

Soon, Mark landed on the Dreadnought, carrying Isoko in her adamantium cocoon onto the ship, opening it as he landed on the deck. Isoko was still glowing, prismatic. Still floating, too, the wind catching her and keeping her stable, even in the major storm whipping across the ship. High Power mode was done, Eliot announced, and so winds and rain buffeted the deck, bothering everyone, but they didn’t bother Isoko.

Isoko hovered two meters above the deck, sleeping, shimmering.

Most everyone else was 30 meters away, standing in the open door at the base of the castle, watching.

Mark remained beside Isoko.

Lola said, “Aside from the insanity of that… incredibly dangerous action back there, if this whole thing works, she will likely experience a Second Awakening. Isoko will need to learn how to control herself all over again. It is best that she stays out here for the time being.”

“I’m watching over her,” Mark said.

Lola curtsied just a little.

Eliot announced, “We’re hanging out here for a while. Ship needs repairs. Isoko needs to wake up and figure out some shit, and then she can actively contribute to the defense of the ship. I need to get the scanner up and running, too, so we can scan her. Tartu? Help with that?” Eliot got going.

“Ah… yeah,” Tartu said, lingering to look at Isoko for a while longer.

Mark sat in the air, watching Isoko, too.

And the storm raged on.