The council met at dawn.

  Emre had called them together—Sulley, Maya, Kaelen, Anya, and representatives from every faction that had gathered in Last Hold. The Mer sent Sereia. The surface nations sent whoever was closest. Even the Zarthan sent an observer, though it said nothing and simply watched with those endless black eyes.

  They gathered in a hall that had once been a Mando outpost, its walls still bearing the faded symbols of the old empire. Emre stood at the center, the weight of the Zarthan's message heavy on his shoulders.

  "The Sleeper," he began, "is waking."

  Silence.

  "I know what you're thinking. We just survived one God Butcher attack. We're not ready for another." He looked around the room, meeting eyes, seeing fear and exhaustion and the faint spark of hope that refused to die. "You're right. We're not ready. But we have time. A year, maybe less. And we're going to use every moment of it."

  "How?" Sereia's voice was sharp. "The Sleeper is the oldest, the largest, the most powerful of the God Butchers. It fed on gods before the Nexus existed. What can we possibly do against that?"

  "Fight," Kaelen said. "Same as before."

  "Before, we had Aya. We had the Debugger's connection to her power. We had surprise." Sereia shook her head. "Now we have none of those things."

  Emre waited for the murmurs to settle. Then he spoke.

  "We have something better. We have each other."

  It sounded like a cliché. He knew it sounded like a cliché. But he meant it.

  "The first time the God Butchers attacked, we were scattered. The Mando were our enemies. The surface nations were fighting among themselves. The Mer were isolated in the Deep. Everyone was alone." He paused. "Now we're not. The Unbound are broken. The treaty is signed. The Echoes are free. For the first time in history, the Nexus is united."

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  "United against a common enemy," Anya said slowly. "It's what Aya always hoped for."

  "It's what we're going to make real."

  ---

  The council lasted all day.

  Plans were made. Alliances were formalized. Resources were pledged. By evening, they had the beginnings of something that looked almost like a strategy.

  Scouts would be dispatched to track the Sleeper's movements, to map the void between worlds, to give them as much warning as possible. Healers would work with the rescued Echoes, helping them recover their strength—and their powers. Warriors would train, preparing for a battle unlike any they'd fought before.

  And Emre would search for answers.

  "There are places," Anya told him, as the council dispersed. "Ancient places, from before the Mando, before the gods, before everything. Libraries built by beings who are no longer here. They contain knowledge that has been lost for eons. If anywhere holds the secret to defeating the Sleeper, it's there."

  "Where are these places?"

  "Scattered. Hidden. Protected by traps and guardians and the weight of time itself." She smiled sadly. "I would go with you, but I'm too old. Too weak. The journey would kill me."

  "Then tell us where to look. We'll go."

  Anya nodded slowly. "There's a place. The Silenced Temple. It was built by the first civilization—the ones who came before the gods, before the Nexus had a name. They knew things. Understood things. And they left records."

  "Where is it?"

  "In the Wandering Lands. A region that shifts and changes, never the same twice. Finding it will be difficult. Surviving it will be harder." She met his eyes. "But if anyone can do it, it's you, Debugger. You and your Echo."

  Emre looked at Sulley. She nodded.

  "Then that's where we'll go."

  ---

  They left at dawn.

  The Wandering Lands were far from Last Hold—weeks of travel, even with the fastest transport. Maya and Kaelen would remain behind, coordinating the preparations, holding things together until they returned.

  "I don't like this," Maya said, hugging Sulley goodbye. "Splitting up. It's how people die in stories."

  "Then we'll make sure this story ends differently." Sulley hugged her back. "Take care of them. Take care of yourself."

  "Always."

  Kaelen clasped Emre's arm. "Debugger. Don't die. It would be inconvenient."

  "I'll do my best."

  "You'd better." Kaelen's grip tightened. "And bring her back. Both of you."

  Emre nodded.

  They boarded the transport—a sleek craft powered by some combination of magic and technology that Emre didn't fully understand. The pilot was a being who claimed to know the Wandering Lands, who had traveled there many times, who promised to get them close.

  As the craft lifted off, Emre looked down at Last Hold. At the city that had become a refuge. At the thousands of beings who were counting on them.

  "Pressure," Sulley said quietly.

  "What?"

  "All those people. Counting on us. It's a lot of pressure."

  Emre took her hand. "Then we don't think about them. We think about the next step. The next challenge. One thing at a time."

  "And if one thing at a time isn't enough?"

  "Then we do two things at a time." He smiled. "I'm a Debugger. Multitasking is what I do."

  She laughed—a real laugh, warm and surprising.

  "I love you."

  "I love you too. Now let's go save the world."

  The transport soared into the sky, leaving Last Hold behind.

  Ahead lay the Wandering Lands.

  Ahead lay answers—or death.

  Either way, they faced it together.