I was worried we were going to get attacked again on the way back, and we even saw what we thought was movement off in the distance, but nothing came to pass. We made it back to the site of the Rift and elected to salvage what we could, and load it onto the transport truck that was the most intact.

We only had a few casualties, mostly limb injuries, although one of the team had a pretty severe head wound that he assured us looked worse than it actually was. Must have been a smart one, since there was a lot of blood up there to come out.

A few other industrious types had seen to it that the transport that we loaded had fully functional tires, and someone had even gone up top and jury-rigged a steering wheel onto it so it'd be a bit easier to tow.

That is where our recent acquisitions came into play. Looking not unlike a team of horses, we'd tethered up the BeetleMechs to the front and set off, truck carcass in tow, with a passel of people precariously perched atop of it. As is the custom.

Viktor was manning the wheel, as one of if not the only person strong enough to brute force the steering without assistance in the softer terrain. He made it look pretty normal though, minus the one time he straight up twisted the wheel right off the haphazard mount that'd been constructed for it.

Although towing the truck with the beetles was slow, the silver lining was that it gave me a chance to get better at piloting the things. István and I kept up a steady stream of chatter, although he still wasn't willing to talk about much considering that'd long ago realized there was some sort of voice relay in these things, which meant that they could just as easily be reporting on what we said back to the Veil, although we weren't sure if that was the case or not.

"What are you going to do with these things when we get back?" I asked István.

"Dissect them. For science!" He replied, sounding very enthused about the prospect.

"Of course, why would it be any other way," I replied. He wouldn't be able to see the eye roll if it was inside the mech.

"I see that you and I have reached an understanding," he replied, the sarcasm in my voice evidently not conveying well through two conversions. It'd be nice if the guy who designed these had some sort of Beetle-to-Beetle communication that didn't involve them effectively shouting to each other, but alas, it wasn't to be.

"Say," I said, "Who do you think is running the Veil?" It was a question that had been on my mind off and on.

"Who says it is just one person?" István replied, "If we have proved anything as of late, it is that bad ideas grow best in groups."

"Fair point, I guess. I will admit I really don't know much about interacting with other people."

"You do just fine. To expand on my point, we heard rumblings of some sort of 'board' or 'council' in the Veil, but they were never more than just hearsay, unfortunately."

"So the mysterious and evil overlords are just staying all mysterious and evil. For now anyway." I thought about it a bit then had an amusing thought pop into my head. "Bet you anything it's some angry guy named Phil who was stood up by his girlfriend once."

István laughed. "I somehow doubt that, but you never know. Stranger things have happened."

"No kidding," I replied, "We're towing a truck that got the top cut off by a beam of light with two BeetleMechs that we stole from the guys who broke the truck."

"No, that is pretty normal," I heard Viktor say from his position behind us. He wasn't even laughing about it.

"Serious?" I asked István.

"Absolutely," he replied. "It is not even in the top ten strangest things we have done."

"I guess I have some stories I have to hear then."

"Perhaps later," he replied.

"Deal."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It was closing in on supper time when we got back, according to my patented time method based entirely on Gran's cooking. I helped stow away the remains of the truck and park everything. After that was done, I had wanted to run home immediately, but István stopped me up short.

"We need to discuss what is going on with your Nebula first," he said. "I do understand your impatience, so I will try to not to take too much of your time. We just kicked a nest of hornets square in the sensitive parts, so I expect we shall find ourselves on the pointy end of some problems in the near future.

"I have observed you enough to know that what you have appears to be unique to you. Knowing the how and why of this will help us plan."

I looked at his stern gaze, unable to suppress a smile. "That, and you are curious, aren't you."

A bit of a grin toyed at the edges of his mouth. "That may come into play as well."

"So," I began, willing to divulge most of my heretofore-held secrets. It wasn't as if they hadn't proved themselves trustworthy. "I have a Core."

"And what is that?" István immediately asked.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure," I said. I knew he would ask this question, but I honestly didn't have a great answer for him, since I didn't really know myself. "But I do know it is much stronger than a mote. You could say I made it from my Mote, the one you also said was unusual."

István sat deep in thought for a second, before getting up and almost dashing across the lab we now sat in. He grabbed a rather old looking book from behind another on a shelf on the wall.

"This is one of my more prized possessions," he said, treating the book accordingly with his declaration as he opened it, "It is a treatise on Motes, Embers and other things relating to what I can now translate as Nebula." I looked on at the pages, realizing they were entirely written in something I could not read at all.

"Hold up," I said. "Embers and Motes? I thought those were the same thing."

"That is conventional knowledge, yes. I thought so myself until I found this book. It goes into great depth, more depth than I am able to translate, currently. It describes points of light known as Motes, and concretions of these Motes known as Embers."

All of the sudden I had several misconceptions clear up at once. Back when we first talked about this 'world' of power at the restaurant, I heard István mention that Viktor had an 'ember' and thought it was just another manifestation of a fire Alignment. I told István as much.

"You are not alone in that," he said, "I think part of the confusion stems from almost all modern Embers being fire aligned, along with the name having lost some important historical context. The overlap with a modern term does not help this misunderstanding.

"Motes are attracted to each other to create Embers because they are individual bits of collective will. The Motes are searching for others with similar goals, and the item which comprises the future Ember is a beacon of sorts. My believe is that the will of the former owner somehow plays a role, which is why all the Artifacts we find all seem to bear some sort of wear or signs of use.

"Essentially, all Artifacts are potential Embers, but very few make it that far, since they need the support of several Motes to reach the 'critical mass', as it were."

"That's… a lot to take in," I said, trying to keep his exposition straight in my head. "So, to summarize, Motes have a get together in an Artifact someone owned and make an Ember?"

"Close enough," István said with a smile. "But you said you have a Core, please explain."

"So, a core seems to have something to do with the Ember, but it's… refined, maybe?" I shook my head out a bit, "It's tricky to say. All I know is you have to create it yourself, it's not something you find. I'm honestly not sure I'm using mine correctly. There's also these flows in my body, something I can sense with my mind rather than feel that enhance my power. Apparently they are called 'Streams'."

István sat back, digesting this tidbit. He had that look again, that sort of look of discovery like he couldn't wait to put the knowledge to use, like he'd start as soon as I was out of sight. My heart dropped like a rock.

I flailed my arms around a bit in a panic, thinking about what Celistar told me, and not wanting to have István be a victim of my penchant for things exploding on me in a spectacular manner.

"Please don't attempt to make a Core yourself," I said, "At least not right now. I don't know a lot about all of this, but I do know that I messed up and should have failed making mine. I also know that failing would normally have severe consequences." I looked up at him, hoping he could see the sincerity in my eyes. "And I really don't want that. For you or Viktor."

"How do you know this?" He asked.

"I… can't say. At least without permission," I replied. "Which is difficult to get. But I'll try." I looked out towards the hallway. The lab had no windows so looking at the doorway was often the best way to see how the weather was fairing. It was pretty dark.

"Do you mind if we put a pin in it for today?" I asked. "I'm pretty sure my family is freaking out right now."

"Fair enough," he said, pushing himself to his feet and grabbing his book. "I did say I would not keep you long, and I am a man of my word."

I kept my eyes glued to the cover of the book he was holding. He must of noticed because he grinned. "Shall we talk more about this tomorrow?" He asked, clearly as interested in the exchange as I was.

"Only if you promise me not to try to make your own Core."

"A lady has twice entreated me not to, so I shall not," he said in a theatrical manner, with a small bow. "Please rest both your worries, and hurry along home to rest those of your family."

"Thanks!" I replied, almost rushing out of the door. Gran was going to have a lot to say.

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