KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess

Xavier arrived through the window like smoke given form, his dark clothing allowing him to blend seamlessly with the volcanic stone. He'd changed since the dinner—gone were the fine blue garments, replaced by practical black that wouldn't catch light or rustle against stone.

"Cozy," he observed, taking in their makeshift war council. "I'm assuming this room isn't supposed to be invisible to half the temple's detection wards."

"Ashley's doing," Margaret said. "She's creating interference."

Xavier's gaze sharpened as he studied Ashley's condition—the pale skin, the golden fractures, the way she held herself like someone fighting constant pain.

Their eyes met. For a moment, Xavier saw past the golden fractures on her skin to the exhaustion beneath—the same bone-deep weariness that stared back at him from his own reflection. It was the silent acknowledgment of survivors.

"How long can you maintain it?"

"Long enough," Ashley replied, though her voice suggested otherwise. "What did you learn?"

"We have a week," he said, the words clipped. "Maybe less. Lord Torval plans to announce Calypso's betrothal at the Midwinter Masquerade."

A week. Seven days to unravel whatever conspiracy had trapped them in this world, find their missing friends, and somehow escape from a fortress city built into the heart of an active volcano.

"There's more," Naomi said. She reached into her robes and withdrew a folded piece of parchment—rough-sketched maps, guard rotations, architectural details gleaned from observation and strategic eavesdropping. "The High Burner has been visiting the Sealed Archives regularly since his sister's death five years ago. Whatever killed her, whatever happened to the original Lady Selene, the answers are down there."

Xavier studied the map, his fingers tracing the routes through the temple's lower levels. "Security?"

"Heavy. Wards, guards, things I couldn't identify." Naomi leaned forward, pointing to specific sections. "But there's a pattern. The archives are in the deepest part of the complex, directly above the volcanic chambers."

Margaret pulled a small wrapped bundle from her basket—what appeared to be a standard healing poultice, but when she unwrapped it, letters were visible on the inner cloth. Calypso's handwriting, disguised as medical notes.

"She's been researching," Margaret explained, smoothing out the fabric. "Something called the 'First Anointing.' She thinks it's connected to whatever's keeping us here."

Xavier read the hidden message, his brow furrowing. "First Anointing. That sounds religious."

"Or magical," Ashley added, though speaking clearly cost her visible effort. "The scholars here talk about our Essentia manipulation like it's a science, but there's ritual involved too. Ceremonies, sacred processes."

"The original Lady Selene died five years ago," Naomi continued. "Right around the time Calypso would have been... what, thirteen? Fourteen? When most people's abilities manifest."

The pieces began forming a pattern, though the complete picture remained frustratingly unclear. A dead girl, a grieving uncle, sealed archives containing forbidden knowledge, and seven displaced students wearing the faces of strangers.

"We need to get into those archives," Xavier said finally.

"Obviously. The question is how." Naomi pointed to her crude map. "Three levels of security, ward networks I can't even identify, and guards who've been specifically trained to watch for infiltrators."

"I can help with the wards," Ashley said quietly. "If I can get close enough, this interference effect might create blind spots in their detection grid. Small ones, but enough for someone to slip through."

Xavier nodded, his gaze fixed on Naomi's map. "The evening ceremonies... that's our window. Naomi, your rotations—is there a blind spot during the shift change near the lower levels?"

"Already working on finding it."

"Margaret, I need you to find out everything you can about this First Anointing. Religious texts, historical records, gossip from the senior healers. Something that significant doesn't stay secret for long."

Margaret nodded. "The temple library has restricted sections I haven't accessed yet. With my current standing, I might be able to—"

"Ashley." Xavier's voice gentled as he addressed her. "You don't have to do this. Using your abilities in your condition—"

"Is dangerous, stupid, and probably going to hurt like hell." Ashley's smile was strained. "I'm still doing it. These bastards have treating me like a lab rat. Time to show them what happens when lab rats bite back."

Xavier studied the map again, memorizing the routes and security points. The path to the archives wound through three levels of the temple complex, past guard stations and ward checkpoints, into the deepest chambers where volcanic heat made the air shimmer and detection spells went haywire.

"This is insane," Ashley observed, watching him fold the parchment. "We'll get caught."

"Probably," Xavier agreed, tucking the map inside his jacket. "But I've never let that stop me before."

The dead zone flickered as Ashley's strength finally began to fail. Sound rushed back—distant footsteps, the eternal hiss of steam, voices echoing through stone corridors. Their window of invisibility was closing.

"Two days," Xavier said. "We move in two days, during the evening ceremonies when half the temple is distracted. That gives us time to refine the plan and gather what we need."

Margaret was already packing her supplies, preparing to leave first. "What about Calypso? She's trapped in the noble quarter, and with the betrothal announcement coming..."

"She'll have to hold on a little longer." Xavier moved toward the window, checking the courtyards. "Once we know what's in those archives, we'll have a better idea of what we're really dealing with."

"And if we're wrong?" Naomi asked. "If the answers aren't there?"

Xavier paused at the window, silhouetted against the steam and starlight. His altered features made him look like a stranger, but his voice carried the same quiet confidence that had gotten them through the journey from Vykengard.

"Then we improvise. But we're not wrong. Too many things connect for this to be coincidence." He looked back at them one final time. "Get some rest. In two days, we're going to find out what's really happening in Hearthome."

He slipped out into the night, leaving the three women in a room that suddenly felt much smaller. Ashley's dead zone collapsed completely, and the normal sounds of the temple rushed back—but somehow, the silence between them felt heavier than any magical interference.

"He's changed," Margaret observed quietly.

"We all have," Naomi replied, though she kept watching the window where Xavier had vanished. "Question is whether we've changed enough to pull this off."

Ashley closed her eyes, golden fractures still pulsing faintly along her skin. "Guess we'll find out."