Chương 127: 126: Suspended In Time

The corridors blurred past Korhess as she descended through the Nest, her spear floating silently beside her. Floor after floor rushed beneath her hooves, each level unfolding as a labyrinth of reinforced steel, humming machinery, dormant Apis conduits, and frozen personnel caught forever in the middle of whatever they had been doing when time stopped. The explosion above had already been accounted for. Her task was simpler: make certain everyone was in the correct position before time resumed.

The shockwave created by Custard being torn from the Nest at such impossible speed would be like a giant suddenly leaping from a springboard. The Apis barriers would hold, but they would need time to absorb the initial disturbance. Anyone standing in the wrong place could easily be thrown into a wall, crushed beneath machinery, or impaled by whatever the tremor dislodged. Apis pulsed from Korhess's body with every movement, draining from her like calories burned by an engine running beyond its intended limits.

She had been moving for what felt like hours, yet the frozen world around her remained unchanged. Soldiers stood suspended mid-stride. Scientists remained hunched over their consoles with fingers hovering above unmoving controls. Steppers were frozen in the act of reaching for weapons they would never have time to draw once the world resumed. Korhess, however, felt different. Something was shifting inside her.

The sliver of the Nonagon she had consumed, that tiny fragment of Katherine's impossible artifact, was no longer merely sitting within her. It was integrating completely, threading through her veins and sinking deeper into her bones as it quietly rewrote her understanding of reality. She understood something now. Katherine relied heavily upon literary terms as spells because that was how she interpreted her own power. Words such as Palindrome, Expurgation, and Irony gave shape to what she wanted reality to become.

The Nonagon itself had never required the words. It interpreted intent. If someone understood what they wanted deeply enough, reality could be persuaded to follow. Korhess's ears twitched. Her expression tightened as the realization settled into place. She began to mutter beneath her breath. Random rhymes spilled from her lips like the chant of an ancient witch, each phrase emerging strangely and instinctively as her tongue struggled around sounds she had not spoken aloud in years.

The words were Velvethorn, the language she had forged in loneliness, the language she had once created to hide pieces of herself from a world she did not trust. Her spear drifted beside her as she descended another level.

"... Sylv-varai tel-mora." The forest's path is already grown. Her brow furrowed. Korhess stared ahead, visibly perplexed by her own voice.

"Strange tongue, forgotten song, why dost thou stir after so long?" Her ears flattened. She shook her head and continued downward, though the words kept coming, slipping between her thoughts like fragments of a dream.

"Vael-mir, thren-vale... what is buried shall not fail." She stopped beside a frozen Stepp­er. Her mismatched eyes narrowed.

"... That rhymed." For a moment, she simply stared at the unconscious soldier.

"Why dost mine tongue speak riddles when my mind seeketh reason?" Silence answered her. Korhess sighed.

"Of course. The world hath chosen now to become absurd." Her spear rotated slowly beside her. She continued descending. She thought about Clock. She thought about Ouro. She wondered where they were, what they were doing, whether they were still alive. The thought had barely finished forming when the world answered. Two figures appeared before her, suspended within the frozen air as though they had always been there and reality had merely forgotten to reveal them.

Ouro stood in a dark orange dress with a slit running high along her thigh, a black corset cinching her waist beneath a wide-brimmed hat. Stylish high sandals wrapped around her calves, while a great black snake rested around her neck, its scales marked with white and violet, its orange eyes fixed forward and its forked tongue caught halfway through a flicker. Her long pale nails remained perfectly still.

Chains and cowries had been arranged neatly through her hair, while another chain hung from her waist, ending in a heavy mace. The snake-and-ladder necklace rested against her chest, unmoving. Clock stood beside her in his compression shirt, his guitar slung across his back. His rings caught the frozen light, and his chess earrings hung motionless beside his face. Korhess stared. She had thought of them. And they had come. Her ears slowly flattened.

"Sweet saplings…" She took one cautious step towards them, studying their unmoving faces.

"I called, and the roots answered." The realization sent a strange tremor through her. The Nonagon was not merely power. It was language. And somehow, impossibly, she was beginning to speak it. Korhess lowered her gaze, thinking carefully before another phrase rose instinctively to her tongue.

"Val-tel miran…" A bloom in the silent season. The words carried weight. A great cocoon of translucent energy blossomed around her, its surface shimmering like glass grown from moonlight. It expanded outward, slowly at first, before enclosing Clock and Ouro within its boundary. The instant the domain closed, time resumed inside it. Clock stumbled forward, catching himself as his eyes snapped open. His hand immediately went towards his guitar before he stopped, his gaze darting across the unfamiliar chamber.

Ouro yelped and nearly stumbled over her own sandals. For several seconds, all three simply stared at one another. Clock's analytical composure returned first.

"What happened?" Ouro looked around, visibly bewildered.

"Dove siamo?" Before either of them could answer, something shifted behind Ouro. The snake around her neck lifted its head, as its orange eyes darted from Korhess to Clock, its scales catching the strange light of the frozen corridor. Its tongue flicked rapidly as it surveyed the three figures, before casually winding itself around Ouro's shoulders. Clock's eyes immediately narrowed. Korhess's ears flattened. Both of them stared at the snake.

"What," Clock said slowly, "is that?" Ouro glanced over her shoulder.

"Oh, him?" The snake lifted its head and blinked. Ouro smiled.

"He's part of me." Clock stared at her. Korhess's expression became distinctly more wary. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"Part of thee?"

"Literally." Ouro reached up and gently scratched beneath the snake's chin. It seemed to enjoy the attention, curling more comfortably around her neck.

"I keep one of them outside whenever I'm wandering around. He's basically my lookout." Clock's brow furrowed.

"One of them?"

"Yes."

"How many are there?" Ouro shrugged.

"Enough." Korhess studied the creature with open curiosity.

"And this serpent seeth through thine eyes?"

"Among other things." Ouro gave the snake another affectionate stroke.

"He's connected to me. What one sees, I can sense. What one feels, I can feel. It's a little weird at first, but you get used to it." The snake flicked its tongue against her cheek. Ouro giggled.

"See? He missed me." Clock stared at her for another moment before deciding he did not have the energy to question it further. Korhess spoke again. Her voice was softer than usual, almost uncertain.

"Ye were far from this place, and yet mine thought found thee." Clock frowned.

"Your thought?" Korhess glanced towards her own hands.

"Aye." She flexed her fingers slowly.

"I think the world hath begun listening." She explained everything. Katherine's transformation. The Nonagon's integration. The frozen explosion. Custard's awakening. Thornburgh's redemption. Butter's flight towards the cities. The Commander's disappearance. Everything. As she spoke, Ouro listened in stunned silence, occasionally glancing towards the snake whenever it shifted against her shoulders. The creature remained unnervingly alert, its head constantly turning as though watching things none of them could see.

When Korhess finally finished, Clock's expression hardened. Ouro stared at him for several seconds, visibly dumbfounded.

"Your people really did all that?" she asked.

"All this damage, all these experiments, all this insane stuff... wow. I honestly cannot believe it." Clock's gaze remained fixed ahead.

"Where is Butter?" Korhess's ears lowered slightly.

"She departed for the cities, that she might save as many souls as her Gloom would permit. I know not her current location." Clock's jaw tightened. His eyes swept across the frozen corridor, as though he might somehow see through the suspended moment and find his sister somewhere beyond it.

"She's out there alone?"

"She chose this path willingly. She would not have us follow." Clock said nothing. His fingers tightened into a fist at his side. The snake suddenly raised its head. Its tongue flicked through the air. Ouro glanced down at it.

"What?" The creature stared towards the distant corridor. Korhess looked towards her.

"What is it?"

"He sees something." Clock's attention sharpened immediately.

"Where?" Ouro turned her head, following the direction of the snake's gaze.

"Somewhere behind us." The snake slowly began moving, its body sliding from Ouro's shoulders and lowering itself towards the floor. Clock watched it disappear around the corner.

"Is that normal?" Ouro smiled faintly.

"For him? Very." She started after it, with Korhess and Clock following. The snake moved ahead through the frozen corridor, its body weaving silently between motionless soldiers and suspended dust, serving as a living scout while Ouro followed its perception from several steps behind. After a moment, Ouro glanced at the two of them.

"I should probably explain something else." Clock sighed.

"I'm almost afraid to ask." Ouro grinned.

"I was actually dressing up to return to the Nest when all this happened. I wanted to find Korhess." Korhess's ears lifted slightly.

"To find me?"

"Yes." Ouro smiled at her.

"I had a feeling something was wrong. I wanted to make sure you were alright." Korhess stared at her for a moment. Her expression softened.

"Thou hast ever possessed a strange manner of showing concern." Ouro laughed.

"And you secretly love it." Korhess looked away.

"I shall neither confirm nor deny this." Clock glanced between them.

"You two are exhausting." Ouro grinned.

"See? You're already fitting in." The snake disappeared farther down the corridor. Ouro followed, her smile fading as she focused on the distant presence the snake had detected. She had come back to the Nest looking for Korhess. She had found her. She had also found a world that had changed while she was gone. The snake, however, seemed to have reached an entirely different conclusion about the urgency of the situation. It suddenly stopped....

Its head lifted, orange eyes turning toward a nearby corridor that led deeper into the Nest. Its tongue flicked once, twice, and without the slightest hesitation, it slithered away from the group. Ouro blinked.

"Uh…" Clock stopped as well, watching the snake disappear around the corner.

"Where is it going?" Ouro tilted her head, listening through the creature's senses. Her expression slowly changed from confusion to mild embarrassment.

"The kitchen." Clock stared at her.

"The kitchen?"

"Yes." A faint clatter echoed from somewhere down the corridor. Ouro sighed.

"He's hungry." Clock closed his eyes and slowly rolled them toward the ceiling.

"We were following it because you thought it had detected something."

"It did."

"And now?" Ouro shrugged.

"Now it wants meat." For a moment, nobody said anything. Korhess's ears twitched before the faintest smile touched her lips.

"Perhaps the beast hath merely fulfilled its duty." Clock glanced at her.

"By locating the kitchen?" Korhess's smile grew by the smallest degree.

"Even the most vigilant scout must, from time to time, heed the demands of the belly." Another clatter came from the kitchen. Ouro winced.

"He's probably already found something." Clock sighed.

"Your snake was just hungry."

"Yes." Ouro placed one hand against her forehead, though she was clearly fighting a smile.

"I suppose saving the world can wait five minutes." Clock stared at her.

"It absolutely cannot." Ouro grinned.

"I know. I'm joking." She glanced toward the kitchen.

"Mostly." Clock shook his head and started walking again. Korhess followed, still wearing that faint, almost imperceptible smile. Behind them, the snake continued toward the kitchen with the single-minded determination of a creature whose priorities were perfectly clear. Ouro's eyes suddenly snapped towards him.

"You didn't call me." Clock blinked, his focus momentarily broken.

"Pardon?"

"You heard me. You didn't call me."

"I've been busy, obviously."

"Busy?" Her Italian accent sharpened around the word.

"Busy fighting for your life, sì?"

"Yes."

"Fighting for your life," she repeated, narrowing her eyes at him.

"And yet you somehow found time to think about me just now."

"I didn't—""You thought about me." There was a teasing note beneath the accusation now. Clock sighed.

"I thought about everyone." Ouro's smile widened.

"Everyone?"

"Yes." She stepped closer, amusement dancing in her eyes.

"You thought about me first." Clock stared at her.

"I was merely considering—""Oh, don't ruin it." Her smile softened.

"I was teasing you. I cannot believe you actually thought about me." She reached up and adjusted one of the chains woven through her hair.

"Don't worry. I thought about you too." Clock opened his mouth. He closed it again. For perhaps the first time that day, the analytical young man appeared to have absolutely no response. Korhess looked between them, her brow furrowing beneath the weight of her antlers.

"Wait." Her ears twitched.

"What call?" She looked at Clock.

"How did he acquire thy number?" Ouro's eyes widened. For a moment, she looked like a deer caught in headlights, an almost painfully ironic comparison given who stood before her. Her gaze darted between Korhess and Clock, searching for some escape from a question that had suddenly become far more complicated than she had anticipated. Ouro caught the pierced silver ring in her own forked tongue between her teeth and worried it absently.

"It is... nothing. I did not..." Korhess watched her for a moment before her expression softened. She raised one hand.

"Peace, Ouro. I am no longer a pawn for them. Thou needest not fear my judgment. Whatever hath passed between thee and Clock shall remain between thee and him." Ouro's shoulders sagged with relief.

"Oh, thank the stars!" Ouro immediately threw her arms around Korhess and pulled her into a fierce embrace.

"I thought you were going to kill me!" Korhess stiffened, her ears flattening as the sudden contact caught her completely off guard. After a moment, Korhess's shoulders loosened, and one hand settled awkwardly against Ouro's back.

"I would not kill thee, Ouro. I have known thee far too long for that." Ouro pulled away, her silver eyes bright with relief, only to seize Clock and drag him into the embrace as well. Clock remained rigid between them, his arms hanging uselessly at his sides. His expression suggested that he had accepted this outcome only because resisting would require more effort than he was willing to spend.

"See? Much better," Ouro declared, giving them both another squeeze before finally releasing them.

"For one second there, I thought I was finished. My poor heart cannot take this drama." Clock stared at her.

"You were never in danger."

"I know that now."

"You hugged her before confirming that."

"Yes, because I am an emotional person. You should try it sometime."

"I'll pass." Ouro laughed, catching the ring in her tongue between her teeth again. Before Clock could say anything else, a familiar slithering sound came from behind them. The great black snake reappeared around the corner, moving with considerably less urgency than before. Its body glided across the floor, its orange eyes half-lidded and its movements noticeably more relaxed. Apparently, the kitchen had provided exactly what it had been looking for.

It reached Ouro and began climbing her without ceremony, winding around her ankle before steadily working its way up her leg and torso. Ouro barely reacted, simply holding still as the snake curled around her waist and finally settled across her shoulders, resting its head beside her cheek. She scratched beneath its chin.

"Feel better now?" The snake flicked its tongue against her cheek. Ouro smiled.

"I'll take that as a sì." Clock watched the entire process with an expression of profound resignation before rolling his eyes.

"Your snake was just hungry." Korhess's ears twitched, and a faint smile touched her lips.

"Indeed. A most fearsome scout, brought low by an empty belly." Ouro laughed again, gently stroking the snake's head.

"Don't listen to them. You did very important work." The snake gave a satisfied hiss and curled itself more comfortably around her shoulders. Clock sighed.

"I'm beginning to regret asking what it was doing."

"You should," Ouro said cheerfully. He glanced towards it.

"Is it judging me?" Ouro's smile widened.

"Always." The snake hissed softly.

"I see." Ouro's gaze wandered back towards Korhess, where it caught upon her antlers. She stared.

"Wait." Korhess blinked.

"What?"

"You stopped cutting them." Korhess's fingers rose instinctively to the base of one antler. She touched the smooth surface, almost as though reassuring herself that it was still there.

"Aye." Ouro's expression softened.

"And you stopped hiding them." Her gaze dropped to Korhess's bare hooves. Korhess followed her eyes. For a moment, she said nothing. Her ears shifted uneasily.

"A great many things have unfurled this day," she said quietly.

"Some have altered the manner in which I regard myself." Her fingers slowly lowered from her antler.

"I shall tell thee all of it later." Ouro smiled.

"Promise?" Korhess nodded.

"Promise." The snake lowered its head and rested its chin against Ouro's shoulder as though satisfied with the exchange.... They continued talking for a while, the conversation drifting through the strange circumstances that had brought them together and the even stranger circumstances that had left the world frozen around them.

For the first time since the catastrophe began, Korhess found herself listening rather than calculating, speaking without carefully weighing every word before allowing it to leave her mouth. Eventually, Ouro looked between them.

"We would make a beautiful trouple." Clock's expression did not change.

"A what?" Korhess's ears flattened slightly.

"I... know not what that is." Ouro blinked. Then she laughed.

"Oh. Oh, you two are serious?" Clock frowned.

"About what?"

"You really don't know?" Neither answered. Ouro covered her mouth, barely containing her amusement. The snake lifted its head beside her and flicked its tongue at them.

"A relationship, ragazzi. Three people. Together." Korhess blinked.

"Thou speakest of romantic attachment?"

"Yes."

"To more than one?"

"Exactly." Ouro looked between them, her smile becoming increasingly amused.

"Neither of you has ever been in a relationship, have you?" A faint flush touched Korhess's cheeks.

"I... have not." She hesitated, her gaze drifting away.

"Well, who would..." The words died before she could finish them. Clock glanced towards her.

"I would." For a moment, she seemed unable to determine whether she had heard him correctly. Her eyes flickered towards Clock, caught his gaze for the briefest instant, and immediately moved away again. Something unfamiliar tightened inside her chest.