“The Collective,” Gabe says, standing now, pacing around the table, resting his broad hand alternately on the shoulders of the six masters he passes. “We used to be the only way. Pathfinders, moving between worlds to keep the energy flowing and the multiverse safe and free of harm.” He comes to a rest at the glass wall of the conservatory and looks out. “But that all changed with Shinigami.”

Murmurs of discontent. Someone thumps the table.

Gabe reaches out, puts his hand on the glass. “Shinigami was once one of us. Born in Lūna to Normal parents, rapidly ascending to become a master Pathfinder with abilities far outside the ordinary. Eventually becoming an elder and luring in susceptible followers like the infamous assassin Rodolfo Graziani. Then, about fifty years ago, Shinigami began stealing from one world and selling to another for profit—weapons, technology, drugs, whatever—and, in the process, built up a stupendous wealth. By the time the other masters understood what was happening, it was too late. Shinigami had formed the Order and started on phase two.”

Gabe paces again, around and around the table, in an ever-tightening circle.

He stops at my chair and looks down at me.

“What Shinigami wants now is perfection. The Order believes the multiverse is in chaos and requires a cleansing. They claim this can only come from destruction, from wiping out anyone perceived as weak or unsuitable to the Order’s cause, perhaps even shutting down the pathways.”

“Which is destabilising the natural flow of the multiverse,” I say. “And that draws more converts to their cause, right? All looking for something better.”

“I see your mind is as sharp as that blade of yours is meant to be,” the tattooed woman says, downing her drink.

“Fear them,” Gabe says now. “Kei Shinigami is capable of extraordinary things, Ana. A master Pathfinder who went deliberately into the Between—the only Pathfinder ever to do so and survive. All those Fallen, previously lost, Shinigami found there, warped into Reapers. Somehow, Shinigami brought them under control and led them back out—like an obedient army.”

A wing folds over my heart.

A dark dread.

Gabe points to the conservatory’s glass roof. “This madness, here in Ares, it’s a direct result of all that unnatural interference. The Order grows stronger. There are even rumours of Havens being attacked, which means the energy safeguarding us, millennia old, has been compromised. Even without the power of Kronos, Shinigami will soon be strong enough to sweep the Collective away. The multiverse is collapsing, Ana. We must do something. And fast.”

“Yeah, but what?”

He looks at me. Hard. “A master like Shinigami can only be defeated by something truly unique. An exceptional, singular weapon.”

My heart sinks. All eyes around the table fix on me. The feeling of being cornered rushes over me in a wave.