The corridor of darkness opened like a jagged wound, spilling faint violet light across the marble floor. Helios stepped through first, his dark coat swaying lightly as he emerged, and Thalen followed, his eyes darting uneasily at the strange pull of this place.
The world they entered was silent. A twilight sky stretched overhead, neither day nor night, its colors caught between soft white and deep indigo. Castle Oblivion loomed in the distance, an ivory fortress with halls that seemed to rearrange themselves with each breath. It was a world where nothing truly existed, and yet everything echoed faintly, like a memory misremembered.
Helios spread his arms and inhaled the stale air, his smirk lazy. "Welcome to Castle Oblivion. Fitting place, don't you think? A world in between for those who are half a person." He glanced sidelong at Thalen, whose expression tightened but who didn't speak.
"You are a Nobody," Helios said flatly. "A Nobody is what is left after a person loses their heart to the darkness. Basically, it's a body without a heart, and that's what you are. Furthermore, you're what the Organization would call a Superior Nobody."
Thalen tilted his head. "…Superior?"
"It means you don't just exist. A being fated to fade back to the darkness. You can summon the lesser ones—Dusks, Creepers—and bend them. If you're strong enough, you can elevate them. Give them new shapes. New strength. That's what separates you from being just any other Nobody."
Thalen's eyes flickered downward, his pale fingers clenching faintly. "I don't know how."
Helios shrugged, conjuring a faint shimmer of light that expanded into a Reflect barrier, enclosing the cracked courtyard around them. "Neither do I. But instincts matter more than manuals. My role isn't to hand you answers, Thalen. My role is to push until you find them yourself."
The barrier shimmered, sealing the arena in distorted light. Helios tapped Bríon na Lú against the ground and gave a wolfish grin. "So. Call them."
Thalen hesitated. "How?"
"I don't know, I guess feel the emptiness," Helios replied. His tone sharpened, like a teacher forcing clarity into a reluctant pupil. "Not as weakness, but as beacon. Nobodies are just echoes. Echoes answer echoes. Use that hollow feeling inside you to draw them near. Make it loud enough that they can't help but hear."
Thalen shut his eyes. His body tensed, shoulders rising with every breath. He dug inward, into that absence that had always gnawed at him—where a heart should be, where warmth should have lived. Sweat gathered at his temple.
The air rippled faintly. Shadows stirred at the edge of the Reflect barrier, like static against glass. But nothing formed.
"Pathetic," Helios drawled, though his eyes glinted in interest. "Try harder. Or you'll prove you're no better than those who crawl unable to soar."
Frustration darkened Thalen's features. His hands shook, lips tightening as he fought to give shape to the emptiness. He thought of Atlantis, of drifting like a corpse beneath water. He thought of Zack's laughter, of training that left him sore and hollow, always behind the others. He thought of Helios' cold gaze, never satisfied.
The shadows surged.
A ripple tore open in the air and a figure spilled out, collapsing like liquid before straightening. Its body was alien: baggy, light-grey limbs, arms long and flat like blades, its head curving teardrop-like to one side. A Creeper.
Helios tilted his head, smirking faintly. "Not a Dusk… but it's a start."
The Creeper shifted unnaturally, its limbs twisting. Then without warning it lunged—its body contorting into the shape of a spear, plummeting from above toward Thalen's skull.
Thalen flinched, throwing up his arms. Helios did nothing.
"If you can't control it," Helios said coldly, "you'll be devoured by your own kind."
The Creeper slammed down, reforming mid-motion into a sword, slashing three times in a blur.
Thalen staggered back, panic clawing at him—then instinct surged. His hand thrust forward.
"Stop!"
The word tore from him, raw. The Creeper froze mid-strike, trembling. Its flat hands quivered as if resisting, then slowly lowered. The thing bent, folding in on itself until it bowed before him.
Thalen panted, his chest heaving. His hand still shook.
Helios' smile widened, sharp as a blade. "Good. You've taken the first step. But that's not enough. Commanding trash like this means nothing."
He stepped closer, Bríon na Lú tapping the ground in rhythm with his words. "Organization superior members imprint a piece of themselves into Dusks and Creepers. They carve a piece of themselves into the void, force it to evolve. If you want something worth wielding, you'll have to do the same. Put yourself into it. Your instincts. Your rhythm. All that you are."
Thalen swallowed. "But… I don't know who I am."
"Then figure it out," Helios snapped. "Right here. Right now. Or remain a useless waste of space forever."
The Creeper shifted restlessly, its flat hands dragging across the stone.
Thalen trembled. He closed his eyes, breath uneven. He dug deeper—past confusion, past fear—into the hollow core of himself. He thought of his training with Zack, of stumbling, of rising again. He thought of Atlantica's crushing depths, of breathing though he shouldn't. He thought of Helios' smirk, cruel but steady, pushing him forward when he would have collapsed.
A glow formed in his palm—grey, eerie, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat he didn't have. The light shot outward, wrapping the Creeper in its grip.
The Nobody convulsed, screeching without sound, its limbs thrashing violently. Its body warped, tearing apart as if something within it was breaking free.
Helios folded his arms, eyes sharp.
The Creeper shattered into black shards—then rebuilt.
What emerged was taller, sleeker, unsettling. Its limbs curved like razors, its head tilted unnaturally as if caught mid-laugh. Its movements were jittery, twitching like a marionette's. The Harlequin stood before them, unstable yet undeniable.
The creature circled Helios, its motions jerky but fast, before snapping back to Thalen's side as though bound by an invisible chain.
Helios' smirk curved darker, satisfaction in his eyes.
"Good," he said, voice low and sharp. "Do it again."