I was more than surprised when I woke up in the morning and found myself still on the sofa. I had a recollection of being there with Tress until a few hours after the show, but not about leaving it—which made perfect sense, since I never had.

  She was telling me about a legend of her people, one about a Myriad who decided to steal one of the two moons—her planet has two of them—and gift it to his lover, a Myriad from an opposing faction.

  The story was beautiful and tragic, ending with the death of the male Myriad, wrongly accused by an envious adversary. The woman, much like Juliet, decided to end her life when she saw the lifeless body of her lover.

  The moon went back into the sky, and the deceiving Myriad was condemned by the Faceless to spend his life alone on the small moon. She told me all of this in a song, ending with a line that the two lovers met again in the afterlife, sharing no faces but an unyielding love for each other, while the villain remained on the moon trying to dig a hole in it.

  She explained this particular moon of her planet had a circle right in the middle, one that darkened on certain nights, looking exactly like a hole.

  I asked if she could sing the song again—pushing my luck—but she did, and I probably fell asleep with my head on her lap. When I woke up, she was still there, sleeping with her head at the sofa’s end and snoring slightly.

  As soon as I moved, she stirred. I shouldn’t, but I got mildly angry at the fact that she’d stayed there.

  "Please, Tress. I respect your tradition, and I want this to keep working, but you can’t keep sacrificing yourself to fulfill the tradition. I don’t feel good waking up and discovering you slept on the sofa because you didn’t want to wake me."

  She seemed confused for a second, and I instantly felt stupid. She smiled—a sweet and gentle one.

  "Zach, I just wanted to be here with you. I’m trying to do as you told me and be myself, do what I want while fulfilling your desires as the one bonded to me."

  "And you wanted to sleep sitting?" I raised an eyebrow.

  "I've slept in worse places, you can be sure of that." She smiled, and then I caught a slight blush on her face—something I had never seen. "I like to stay around you, is that a problem? You remind me of home."

  "How so?" I pushed. There were a lot of Myriads in the town, and she'd even helped a few back on her planet. Her reasoning didn’t make much sense at face value.

  "We have a saying: 'The one who listens is the one that lingers.' This is one of the best qualities a Myriad can have—listening to another’s mind, to the stories they want to tell, to the feelings they want to share. You’re human, but when I’m with you… I remember home, how it feels good when people don’t try to make things about themselves and just… listen."

  "I see..." I said, letting the words linger as I found myself at a loss. "I’m glad you feel that way. I’ll always be here for you, you know that, right?" I offered, doing my best to erase the douchey feel of my earlier takes.

  "I know." She nodded, and before the situation could get awkward, Mary and Elk called us from the kitchen, offering something to eat.

  Mary was apparently showing Elk bacon, since they didn’t have pigs in their homes. The Arahaktar had his face stuffed with it, devouring it nonstop.

  "Go easy, dude," I told him, grabbing a cup of coffee from a machine in the corner of the kitchen. It was mesmerizing how much that place reminded me of a suburban American house—it didn’t feel like the end of the world.

  Honestly, the sleep I’d had last night was probably the best I’d had in many, many years. The ghost of Max didn’t come for me in my dreams, and the prospect of the future didn’t bother me either.

  "So, how was your night?" Mary asked me, then looked at Elk, who looked back at her.

  "What do you mean? It was all right." I replied, and they looked at Tress.

  "And yours, Tress?" Elk asked, gulping down the bacon in a raspy voice.

  "Normal. Why are you two acting so strange?" she asked promptly, not realizing the insinuation in the duo’s voices and gestures.

  "Because they're two dumbasses, that’s all," I replied for them, grabbing two pieces of bacon from Elk’s plate. "We just slept on the sofa, you two perverts. We’re friends. And you two? Nothing tells me you wouldn’t share the same room."

  "As if I’d sleep near someone disgusting like Mary," Elk said without thinking, and the punch that came from Mary right after didn’t seem to have much thought in it either.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Her knuckles hit hard on the Arahaktar’s chest, and he flew through the room, his back crashing against a counter.

  "Who’s disgusting, you red piece of shit?" Mary asked, and Elk looked up, puzzled.

  I burst out laughing and looked at Mary’s grimace. "It’s not that funny when you’re the one called disgusting, is it?" I remembered when Elk had told her about our meeting and she’d been the one laughing at his poor social skills, to say the least.

  "Ha-ha," she said, glancing from one to the other. "FYI, I was a model back on Earth. Not runway, of course, but I did a lot of shoots for a few brands."

  "You know you just spoke gibberish to him, right?" I said, pointing a piece of bacon at her. She shrugged.

  "You were paid because you are beautiful?" Tress asked, getting the gist of it.

  "Thank you! Someone understands." Mary raised both hands in the air as Elk slowly stepped closer, making sure she wasn’t going to hit him again.

  "I see," Tress continued. "Back home we have these. They’re normally paid to sleep with the male Myriads," she explained nonchalantly, and I burst out laughing again.

  Mary stood up and rushed toward me, trying to make me her new target. I was quick to run to the main hall.

  "It wasn’t me who said it!" I shouted, running in circles around the sofa.

  "You were the one laughing!" she protested, trying to get close to me, but my speed was higher, and she'd never jump over the sofa in time.

  Suddenly, I was a kid again, enjoying a little moment of peace in a life that hadn’t allowed much of it for a long time.

  When the running started to feel like it would never end, someone knocked on the door.

  "Come in!" I called, trying to avoid Mary, but the distraction was enough for her to catch up and fall right over me, her fist raised. However, the voice at the doorway stopped her.

  "Hey, sir. Zach, sir. There’s an alien at the crafting zone. Like, a different alien." The freckled boy, John Thorn, spoke, looking from Mary to me, his face growing red by the second. "I’m sorry to disturb you, just thought you needed to know." And then he stormed off, looking like a red pepper.

  "Did he think us...?" she asked.

  "He did," I laughed, bracing to get my face smashed.

  Instead, she got up and helped me too. "Okay, now it's that kid I need to beat up."

  We moved through the town with quick steps, curious about what was happening. More people had gathered near the crafting station, all with curious expressions etched on their faces.

  It didn’t take long for us to find the cause of it. There was a creature standing at one of the many crafting stations, and there was no better word than alien to describe its appearance.

  The thing was humanoid, with a hunched back that made it hard to tell its height. Even so, it looked quite tall. Its skin was completely gray and filled with holes—like a Swiss cheese made of flesh.

  It was apparently a he, since it had a masculine chest and wide shoulders. From its head protruded a few white hairs. He looked old and frail, and when we got closer, I noticed his face.

  He had two small eyes, no nose, and a big mouth. The alien sat deep in the uncanny valley, but the strangest part was how thin his limbs were—like someone who hadn’t eaten in months—yet he raised a big, heavy hammer high above his head and brought it down onto a greatsword, which he also held without trouble.

  The creature wore no clothes, but also had no genitals to show or hide. We approached, and then a voice came in our direction.

  His mouth never moved; the sound came from the holes in his body.

  "Welcome, welcome to my esteemed shop, young people. The others were too afraid to come closer. How can I help you?" He had an elderly voice—gentle and alluring—but when he opened his mouth and smiled, revealing dozens of sharp teeth in dozens of rows, all sympathy was thrown out the window.

  Mary looked at Elk with inquiring eyes, as if she were asking with her gaze, "And I’m the one who's disgusting?"

  "I’m sorry if my appearance threw you off. You can never know where you’ll end up when you work for the Empire. This is my last year working for them, and I’ve seen many, many different people. I never worked on the show, though." He then rested his hammer on the greatsword and looked toward us, his narrow eyes studying each one of us. "This time they got some nice faces. You’re all beautiful!"

  He smiled his terrifying smile again, saw our grim expressions, shrugged, and moved on.

  "I’m here to craft you weapons and armor with ingredients you may have. Can I be of service today?" he asked, more professional this time.

  "What’s your name, sir?" I asked.

  "I can’t tell you. Empire and show rules. I’m just the craftsman. But I’m ready to help!" He sounded full of enthusiasm again as he kept looking at me.

  "We have this. Maybe you can do something with it." I took the Drake Scale from my inventory and showed it to him.

  He didn’t move to take it, but he clearly saw what it was.

  "Oh, a Drake Scale. These are very good for making armor because, no matter the Rank the drakes are, they always drop the same scales. So you’ll have great armor when I finish it."

  "Oh, so you can do it? How much will it cost?" I asked, matching his enthusiasm.

  "Nothing at all!" he exclaimed, and I moved closer to hand him the scale.

  "But I can’t make armor with one scale, boy. You can call me a magic blacksmith, but even I have rules. Go outside, find a dungeon, kill another boss, and only then can I make something combining two ingredients."

  "You could’ve told me that before."

  The blacksmith scratched his head, one finger slipping into one of his black holes, and smiled again.

  "I guess I could’ve. Sorry. But it’s your lucky day, kid. Look at your map."

  "Yeah?" I asked and opened the minimap.

  I was more than surprised when I realized there were dozens upon dozens of dungeons near our position.