Chapter Text
“You want an Emanator to join your side?” Jade asked. “Coexistence with one who worships Order doesn’t seem your style.”
Aventurine wondered how accurate that title was. Emanators were directly granted power by THEM, but Ena the Order had been long absorbed. Sunday had used a Stellaron to bring back Ena. Did that make him an Emanator of a dead Aeon? Was he still close to Harmony?
Sunday had given Xipe of thousand faces one extra set of eyes—Ena’s. Dead eyes that Sunday had pried open just so he could force the Aeon to glimpse at him for a moment.
“Sure, why not,” Aventurine said. “He can be my personal assistant and get me my Monday coffee. Imagine that.”
“Mm. As long as he remains cooperative and profitable.”
“That won’t be a problem.” Someone like Sunday wouldn’t allow Aventurine to exist. That was what would make this so fun.
“What will you stake in return?”
“What I always bet, of course. My life.”
“Alright. You can bring Sunday to your meeting with Diamond. He will decide,” Jade said, sounding amused. “You know, Diamond won’t be pleased with what you’ve done with your Cornerstone.”
“Really? I think I’ll get a promotion.”
P46 was so close that Aventurine could taste it. It already wasn’t enough. This hollow hunger for victory was voracious, how could it be sated?
Still. He knew he would win, and win, and win.
It wouldn’t be so bad to gain a spectator who’d bet against him.
***
When Aventurine entered the dreamscape and arrived outside Dewlight Pavilion, Topaz was in the middle of a new area already. A few Family and IPC members looked at each other with distrust as Topaz conversed with a mustached man in a top hat.
Aventurine whistled, strolling over. “Topaz and Numby. You two work fast.”
The debt collector smirked at him, though her brows drew together slightly. She wasn’t as ecstatic to see him as Numby, who hopped up and down. Seemed like Trotters could enter dreams too? “It’s thanks to Sir Whittaker’s cooperation,” she said.
“Mr. Aventurine,” the man said. He was difficult to read, with a cold, piercing gaze and an equally steely voice.
“The orderly head of the Nightingale Family. It is my pleasure,” Aventurine said.
“I may value orderliness, but I humbly follow the Path of Harmony.” Whittaker didn’t let the insult slide. Humbly, though, was a funny word.
“So you do denounce the Oak Family, Sir Whittaker?” Aventurine asked. “I didn’t get the memo.”
“All of the Family denounces Sunday,” Whittaker said, correcting Aventurine. “He strayed from the Path of Harmony.” Despite the words of condemnation, he spoke emotionlessly.
Aventurine was sure the rest of the Strategic Investment Department would have control of Penacony by the end of the profits quarter. They’d definitely have their hands full if the other Family heads were like Sir Whittaker, though.
“I’m going to borrow my friend here,” Aventurine said. “See you around Dreamville, Sir Whittaker.”
“Mr. Aventurine.”
They walked to a private office in the new wing of the Dewlight Pavilion. The corridor was filled with Strategic Investment Department members who quickly gave Aventurine a wide berth, trying to avoid his attention.
“You walk like you’ve been here before,” Topaz said. “Did you get to thoroughly explore the dreamscape?”
“Something like that,” Aventurine said dryly. “I got to see it from a whole different perspective.”
They entered a room with tall ceilings. The windows let in light, but the ambience remained dark and moody.
“So, what’s up?” Topaz asked, locking the door. The key jumped out of her hand and scampered away into a corner of the room, causing Numby to make an alarmed noise. “Really?” Topaz groaned, shaking her head. “The memoria in Asdana… No wonder the higher ups want to harvest it.”
“The Memokeepers will have something to say about that.” Aventurine grinned and walked around the room. There were already bookcases lined with books—they seemed familiar. Topaz must’ve borrowed them from the Family. “By the way, I’ll be taking Sunday with me out of Penacony.”
“What?”
“He’s joining my team.” Aventurine looked up at a stone nightingale that blinked its judgmental eyes at him. “Ahh, Penacony has too many birds. Why not change the statues into something more pleasant, like Trotters?”
“Trotters are cute, but the Family has eyes everywhere. If you blind too many, they’ll start a revolt,” Topaz replied. “And wait, what do you mean you’re taking Sunday?”
“Revolts aren’t very harmonious,” Aventurine mused. He turned around and smiled. “I mean what I said. He agreed to join my Non-performing Assets Liquidation Team.”
Topaz peered at him. “He agreed,” she said slowly. “I’m impressed. Before he became the head representative of Penacony, the Family had been willing to strike deals with the IPC under the table. After? Not so much.”
Aventurine knew that already. Previous IPC agents had been turned by Sunday. Aventurine had wondered if it was Halovian powers, individual charm, or plain old bribery and threats.
“What can I say, looks like the victor gets to choose their reward.”
“And you chose the captive leader of the Oak Family… who agreed to go with you,” Topaz said.
“Yep.”
“I’ve seen weirder, I suppose.” Topaz shrugged and took Numby into her arms. “As long as you guys leave Penacony alone.”
“Why would I mess with Penacony? I’m not a sore winner.” Aventurine saw Topaz smile a little at his words. “Plus, Diamond did tell me to prioritize a peaceful resolution.”
“You and Sunday both almost destroyed the Planet of Festivities. Fighting the same Nameless. At the theater. Aventurine, I don’t think ‘peaceful resolution’ is in either of your databases.”
Aventurine’s lips twitched up. “I’ll get out of your hair soon. Topaz, thanks for trusting me. I appreciate your contribution.”
“Just don’t forget to mention it to Diamond.” Topaz patted Numby on the head, lips quirking up. “Maybe he’ll have you call me to promote me next time.”
“I look forward to it,” Aventurine said, smiling. He spread his hands out. “Now, let’s go over the details.”
***
After returning to the Reverie, Aventurine synthesized a simple meal for dinner. He showered and then sat back in his soft Reverie bed, scrolling through his tablet. Most of the IPC’s files on Halovians talked about how they expanded the influence of Harmony for the Family. He had long studied them before coming to Penacony. The Interastral Peace Guide was flattering but vague when it came to Halovians, and his high rank gave him no access to other details.
Halovians are a beautiful species blessed with halos and wings. They have the power of telepathy and use their powers for peace. Halovians serve the Family and Harmony on Penacony.
Every entry was much more flattering than what the IPC had on the Avgin. It was due to the support of an Aeon. Xipe had looked at the Planet of Festivities. Gaiathra Triclops had looked at the Avgins, and…
No. Aventurine supposed SHE had only looked at him.
Aventurine shook his head. He decided to request files on Halovians from the Intelligentsia Guild. Would Ratio let the request through? The doctor did seem like he’d tell Aventurine to look harder elsewhere, even though he’d been the one to dangle this lead in front of Aventurine in the first place...
Half an hour later, Ratio sent him a message.
> Idiot. Where do you think the IPC’s files on Halovians came from?
Aventurine tapped back his response at once.
< You must know more. I’ll give you 100k credits for the unabridged version
< jk don’t block me please!
< how about 1 million credits?
< help an idiot out?
> Were your eyes a natural mutation?
< the auctioneers always said so
Aventurine saw the dots signifying that Ratio was currently typing. Guilt trips did seem to work on Ratio. Aventurine curiously awaited the response.
> Don’t play the pity card every time you speak.
> To condition you out of this bad habit, I will let you find the truth yourself.
> Just don’t go asking our two esteemed Halovians. They won’t know.
Aventurine sent a sad sticker to Ratio, which was predictably left ignored. But, he wasn’t blocked, so he’d consider that a win. The truth behind Halovians…
Despite Ratio’s words, Aventurine wanted to ask Sunday about the abilities and origin of this angelic species, if just to mess with him by implying there was more to know.
***
When lunchtime came around the next day, Aventurine decided to visit Sunday again.
This entire floor of the Reverie was once again filled with Bloodhound guards on duty—but there was also an unsurprising visitor. Robin was dressed like she was about to go out on a performance, dress flowing behind her gracefully. She was sitting down, waiting outside Sunday’s gilded cage.
“Mr. Aventurine,” Robin said. She didn’t seem surprised to see him. Aventurine supposed someone must’ve told her about his visit.
Aventurine gave Robin a smile. “Miss Robin, enchanted to meet you again.”
Tension weighed down on Robin’s shoulders, but she smiled back at Aventurine anyway. “I’m sorry for what my brother did to you.”
“What did he do?” Aventurine asked, surprised.
Robin’s smile turned sorrowful. “Well, I’m not sure of the details. He’s refused to talk with me. But Caelus told me how you two found me ‘dead’. I can only imagine…” she trailed off.
Robin was good at hiding it, but for the briefest moment, the liveliness in her eyes turned cloudy. Her makeup was perfect, as was every strand of her hair. Aventurine wondered how long she’d spent making herself look fine just to be rejected at Sunday’s door.
“I don’t blame him,” Aventurine said. “It was nothing personal, just a misunderstanding. I’d prefer we all be friends.”
Robin nodded. “I would like that too,” she said. She glanced at the closed door wistfully.
“I told your brother that nothing bad will happen to you because of the IPC,” Aventurine said. “And I meant it.”
Robin nodded. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. She looked at him for a few moments. “May I ask, Mr. Aventurine, what you plan to do with him?” she asked calmly.
“I invited him to join my team at the IPC. He agreed. We’ll have good team synergy, at least I hope.”
“The IPC…” Robin’s lips parted. “Which division are you?”
“I was worried he’d speak ill of me, but looks like he didn’t speak of me at all,” Aventurine said. “I’m from the Non-performing Asset Liquidation department.”
“Oh.” She clasped her hands, looking down. “It might do him some good to get away from the Family.”
Aventurine didn’t think it’d do the world outside of Penacony any good though, but he nodded. “I will try to help him. Even if most people consider IPC contracts to be cages.”
“Cages…” Robin’s confusion quickly gave way to understanding. “Did he also tell you about the Charmony Dove?”
“Yes. I get the impression he’s attached to the symbolism of birds.”
Robin smiled. “People might not believe it, but he is still the more idealistic of the two of us,” she said softly, like it was a precious secret. “He always was.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Actually… could I add you as a friend? I asked around for your number, but people said they’d report me for trying to invade your privacy.”
Robin’s smile seemed to freeze on her face before it recovered its warmth. “Alright,” she said, taking out her phone so they could share friend codes.
“Wonderful. I look forward to being friends. Hmm… I usually give my new friends credits to make a good impression, but you’re already an intergalactic star,” Aventurine said. “Will a hundred thousand credits be enough?”
Robin blinked. “Mr. Aventurine, you have a weird way of approaching friendship,” she said, standing up. “I won’t keep you. Hope you have a good time chatting with my brother. And don’t send me any credits.”
“Oh,” Aventurine said. “Oops, I already sent it.”
Robin giggled, but there was doubt in her eyes. “I’ll have to decline it,” she said, tapping at her phone to reject the transfer. Wise of her to do so. “See you around, Mr. Aventurine.”
***
Aventurine knocked once before entering. He swept his gaze over the room. It was still as tidy and clean as before. Once again, there was nothing much in the room except a few orange bottles of SoulGlad on the counter. Only one of them had been cracked open, barely consumed. Of course there was no synthesizer, but was the Halovian even given real food?
“Good afternoon. Do you have time for a chat, Sunday?” Aventurine asked. He took out his IPC scanner once again. This time, the light on it glowed red and it sent a wave out to cancel any listening devices within the room. He arched a brow.
“In my penance, all I have is time,” Sunday said dryly, not addressing the listening device in the room. “And SoulGlad.”
Aventurine huffed out a laugh. Penance. That did seem like something a Family member would do. “Is the Iris Family opening up auditions for comedians?” he inquired.
“The Kiwis comedy team are always looking for new additions. However, I’ve been accepted into the IPC already. How could I defect so soon?”
“So you plan on defecting eventually?” Aventurine asked, feigning hurt.
Sunday laughed. “I would never.”
Aventurine’s lips quirked up. Sunday had an incredible poker face, all serene and gracious, but his laugh always sounded a touch violent instead of harmonious and perfect.
“How may I entertain you today, Mr. Aventurine?” Sunday asked, sitting back in his chair.
“No need to be so polite. Even if I didn’t hear about how you held 107,336 souls hostage, we are going to be working closely from now on. Consider me your... friend.”
Sunday didn’t bat an eye. “Let’s not rush to deepen our friendship. Such things should be natural. You did try to commit mass murder, betting on an Emanator of Nihility to stop you.”
“You forced my hand.” Aventurine shrugged. “Only a few people even remember chips falling from the sky, supposedly as rehearsal for the Charmony Festival. Your show really overshadowed mine, Sunday.”
Sunday’s expression darkened. “And yet the curtains still fell too soon.”
“You can always start a new act. The IPC welcomes you. We value peace and Harmony as well.” Aventurine walked up, leaning down to look closely at Sunday’s halo. Perhaps that was the root of Halovian psychic powers. “Does this need polishing?”
Sunday smiled. “I hope you aren’t planning on selling my halo.” His voice was calm, but unlike his sister, this calm lured others into false security. Aventurine didn’t even believe in real security.
“Just curious. No need to be afraid, Sunday, I’m not treating you like an exotic good.”
“I see,” Sunday said simply. His eyes flickered to the commodity code on Aventurine’s neck. Unlike Ratio, he was rude enough to stare at it. After a moment, he added, “I was half expecting to get a matching tattoo.”
Aventurine’s skin prickled, feeling exposed, as if Order demanded him to peel his skin off as a sacrificial offering. “Matching tattoos? Aww, but we haven’t even gone on a proper date yet,” he said, reaching out to graze his fingers across the golden halo behind Sunday’s head. “Do you sleep on this—?”
The halo burned upon first touch. The metal was sharp enough to cut and a voice hummed in Aventurine’s mind, a reverberation that dredged up dizzying memories. He withdrew his hand slowly, distantly feeling the sting of pain.
Sunday let out a little laugh. “You’re lucky you still have your hand.”
“Message… received. I guess touching halos must be at least second base,” Aventurine said. He sat down.
“It’s not quite that intimate,” Sunday said.
“So you let people polish it?”
Sunday smiled in return. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Whatever. Here’s a new phone for you.” Aventurine slid the modified phone onto the table between them, the silver case matching Sunday’s hair. “It has the usual restrictions you’d expect, but it’s got virtual quark chess and other games to soothe your boredom.”
“How kind of you.”
“There are also some contracts for you to read over.”
Out of the phone screen popped a detailed holographic contract.
“Did you sign a similar one?” Sunday asked as he scanned the content.
“Not quite,” Aventurine said. “I bet my life. You’re going to be selling your soul directly.”
“You mean transferring it from the Family to the IPC.”
Aventurine laughed. “Oh. How unusual to hear Family slander from the former leader of the Oak.” He waved a hand. “Don’t worry—an IPC solicitor has already sorted out the legalities.”
Sunday fell into silence as he read the contract. Sitting back and reading so calmly, he created the illusion that he was in control.
“I have to help you secure five qualifying planets worth of revenue stream for the IPC within the next decade,” Sunday summed up. “The IPC agrees to not interfere with Robin’s life so long as I work for the IPC.”
To Aventurine’s surprise, Sunday signed the contract without delay.
“I’m glad we could come to an agreement,” Aventurine said, arching a brow, “but even beggars know to ask for legal counsel before signing their lives away to the IPC.”
“Did you?”
“Touché. Say, I really am curious about Halovians. How many are there left? Your species is so enigmatic.”
“Witness the last survivor of Sigonia throwing stones,” Sunday said. “Why don’t you tell me about your eyes, and I’ll tell you about my halo? That seems fair considering both are redacted from the IPC databases.”
His eyes?
Aventurine thought about the trade deal. Sunday offering useful intel seemed ridiculous. He didn’t strike Aventurine as the type to ever give anything away unless it was meaningless. If Sunday had a Cornerstone, it’d be safely tucked away in the depths of dreams, never gambled.
Aventurine was willing to begin a friendly flow of information between each other. What Sunday wanted to know was revealing in itself.
But honestly, Aventurine didn’t get it. What about Aventurine’s identity captured Sunday’s attention? He’d already asked about it again and again.
“Sure. I love story time. It’s always good for teammates to know each other better,” Aventurine said. His voice lowered, turning wry. “But why the fascination with me? You already know my name and that I’m the last survivor of my clan. I’m an open book, Sunday, you pried my covers open.”
“And every page inside you is a lie,” Sunday said. “An Emanator of Nihility stopped you from becoming a galactic threat, even severing my curse on you. The Nameless play along with your innocence, a Knight of Beauty saves you, and you waltz away as if you’re the final victor.”
Aventurine didn’t like the tone of Sunday’s voice. It made something shiver in him. “I thought you were busy putting on a play. The Family really sees all, huh?”
“I may have failed,” Sunday said, bitterness seeping into his words, “but I felt your true desire to destroy the world with your own two hands. Don’t pretend you’re here to pick up a Halovian trophy to play mind games with. You share the aftertaste of failure.”
Aventurine stared, smile turning acerbic. His heartbeat quickened. It had been terrible to be seen by what he’d thought was a follower of Xipe. To be glimpsed by Sunday, who apparently wanted to save the world, as misguided as he might’ve been—why did this feel worse?
A part of Aventurine felt the sudden urge to be truthful, like maybe if he confessed his sins, Sunday could grant him salvation. The nonexistent truth lodged in his throat, the aftertaste of surviving what should’ve been death. What a reckless urge.
The halo behind Sunday’s head seemed to glow, just like his citrin eyes. Was he using some sort of telepathy on Aventurine? Regardless, Sunday still didn’t understand.
“Fine, I will admit that I’m not here just because you’re pretty and I’m petty. I think you can help me.”
“If you want me to help you destroy the world, that will never come to pass.”
Aventurine smirked. “They say Ena the Order brought prosperity and splendor to every world THEY guarded—for only a brief moment of light before total darkness. If that’s the type of world you want, then you don’t have the right to reject the ensuing doom. Unless you think yourself as strong as an Aeon.”
Sunday’s eyes flickered over Aventurine’s face, searching. “Of course not,” he said, but there was something about his expression that looked far too knowing. Why? What could Sunday still be hiding, even after all this? “That would be blasphemy.”
“Sunday,” Aventurine admonished. “That is what concerns you?”
“I make no excuses. Even if that brief moment of starlight precedes inevitable darkness, I thought myself strong enough to hold it back.”
“Really? That sounds an awful lot like an excuse to me.”
Sunday seemed torn and frustrated, like he was enduring the second existential crisis this week. He looked to the window, exhaling. Warm sunlight filtered into the room from a distant window, far out of reach.
Aventurine’s mocking smile faltered at the sight. Something… unpleasant… unfurled in his chest. What was it Robin had said? Sunday was the more idealistic one?
But what did that matter? Sunday might’ve looked like a caged angel right now, with his soft white wings and numinous aura, but that was surely the ultimate hoax of Penacony.
Sunday was a cagemaker. Now, he was locking himself in. Penance, that was what Sunday had called this.
“Anyway, why do you want to know about my eyes?” Aventurine asked.
Sunday looked at Aventurine again with an odd intensity. “They’re captivating,” he said. “Like eyes one would see in a dream. Yet yours exist in reality. Did all Avgins share your eyes?”
Aventurine pouted, resisting the urge to glare. “You insult me incessantly, and then praise my eyes. Am I going to end up waking up in a Reverie pool with my eyes gouged out, Sunday?”
Sunday laughed like the idea interested him. “Halovians are gifted halos when we are very young,” he said. “They enhance our psychic senses and allow us to interact with other minds more easily.”
“So you levitate the halo?” Aventurine asked. “Do you take it off when you sleep?”
“I wear a new one every day.”
Aventurine blinked, then laughed too. “Oh. Hearing you make a joke—I think—is definitely worth telling you about my eyes.”
“Then tell me,” Sunday said, with the audacity to sound encouraging. Voice lower, like he was worth confiding in. What a natural actor. Aventurine had needed to practice his smiles and seduction in the shards of broken mirrors. He wondered if Sunday’s aura came naturally.
“I was born with them,” Aventurine said.
“A mutation?”
“More of a blessing from the god we believed in.”
“In the Golden Hour, you spoke to yourself about Gaiathra Triclops. Is that your pagan god?”
“Why ask when you obviously eavesdropped?”
“Indulge my curiosity.”
Aventurine considered it. “Indulge mine first. Let go of your halo,” he said. “I want to touch it.”
Sunday narrowed his eyes. After a moment, he said lightly, “You’re like a magpie transfixed by gold, aren’t you.” He stood up and placed a palm out. The halo behind him levitated, moving from behind his hand to hover over his palm.
“Again with the birds,” Aventurine drawled as he got up from his seat and stepped closer. He stared down at the halo, touching it again. This time, it didn’t burn, but there was a low humming of power.
“The design is reminiscent of Dominicus, the Wisher of the Harmonious Choir,” Sunday said. “It is nothing like a Cornerstone.”
Aventurine laughed, only a little surprised. “You really see right through me,” he purred. He glanced up, meeting Sunday’s eyes, fluttering his lashes. “Sunday, I know trust doesn’t come easily, but you signed the contract. There were several clauses to ensure Robin’s safety. I hope we can get along from now on.” He released the halo. “At least pretend to trust me and make this fun, won’t you?”
“If that is your hope, then how did you get my sister’s number, Aventurine?” Sunday asked coldly as he put the halo back on.
Aventurine blinked at him. “Sunday, have you been under the impression I stole it?”
“It is securely guarded.” Sunday tilted his head. “The people who know it… are not able to speak of it without explicit permission.”
Aventurine laughed. “Do all Halovians have that weird mind control power or is it just you being an Emanator of Order?” he asked teasingly.
“It is fortunate that I have the ability. Otherwise those who try to throw cash gifts around would succeed,” Sunday said wryly, but his voice tightened slightly. There was definitely a story there. Sunday had revealed that Robin once received a bullet to the throat—was that related?
“I get it,” Aventurine said. “It’s not like that though. I asked her politely for her number. We met outside your door, actually. She said it might be good for you to join the IPC, leave Penacony.”
Sunday sucked in a breath, expression falling. He turned away.
“You can say goodbye to her before we leave on Monday,” Aventurine said. “That gives you three days.”
“I cannot.”
“Everyone who’s anyone already knows of your attachment to your sister dearest, and the IPC won’t crucify her for talking to you. Plus, the public is sympathetic to her tragic situation. So no, I don’t know why you cannot. This risk is minimal.”
“Her path and mine have diverged, like two intersecting lines that will never coincide again,” Sunday said. “The Dreammaster and I tricked her into the path of Order instead of Harmony. She is finally able to choose her own path now.”
“And you still won’t let her,” Aventurine marveled. “You’re such a control freak.”
Sunday’s eyes sharpened as he smiled at Aventurine. “If you try convincing me as Kakavasha, perhaps I will listen,” he said.
“Ah, you’re not very nice. What do you really want from me, Featherhead,” Aventurine wondered. “Do you just like dipping your hands into everyone’s pockets, regardless of what’s inside? Even speed dating doesn’t involve as many questions as you’ve asked me.”
“You’re asking what I want?” Sunday shook his head. “We’ll be working together in the name of the Amber Lord now. As you said: It’s always good for teammates to know each other better.”
Aventurine grinned. “I’m glad we’re on the same page of lies.”
“I don’t enjoy deception, Aventurine. Your impression of me was, regrettably, tainted by the unique circumstances. Mine of you was, in all likelihood, accurate.”
Aventurine sighed. “Sunday. Let’s bet,” he said. “I bet that you’ll never be able to make me truly trust you.”
Sunday let out a breathy laugh. A glimmer of amusement in his eyes diminished the emptiness within them, which felt like a victory to Aventurine. His smile was beautiful—Aventurine hadn’t exaggerated when he called him the most beautiful on the Planet of Festivities. “You will,” he said, with such casual arrogance. The same way he’d expected an entire planet to bend to his will.
Sunday could be Aventurine’s brief moment of light before endless totality.
Aventurine smiled, excited. “I hope you succeed,” he said sincerely.