They found what they came for quickly. A disused rocket, a mode of transport that hadn’t been used in the Federation for a century at least, stood in the centre of the junkyard like some sort of broken statue. Paladin was surprised by this. Arthur was not.

  He quickly went inside the disused shell and started investigating the internal systems. Paladin waited outside for about half an hour before Arthur climbed out.

  “Seems like it still has some kind of rudimentary life support inside,” he explained. “Hull has some holes that will need patching up, but it'll hold perfectly fine provided. No artificial gravity gens, but I didn’t expect any. Heat shielding is really damn bad, but that's not too hard to patch up."

  "I sense there's a bigger problem here," Paladin interrupted.

  Arthur nodded. "Power seems to be solar based, which is real handy when light doesn’t travel anywhere anymore. If the battery wasn't dead when it was first put up here, it would have died when the Rot started.”

  “Could we find a way to replace the fuel source?” Paladin asked. “Would this world be likely to have some kind of oil-based engine?”

  Arthur looked surprised.

  “Are those an issue around here?” Paladin asked.

  “No, not at all, other than just being really outdated. Just surprised you’d know about them.”

  “Despite how I look, I come from a time not unlike yours. But, that’s a story for another day. What do you need from the scrapyard in addition to the engine repairs?”

  Arthur listed off the litany of other issues he had with the rocket, all of which Paladin noted.

  “Of course,” he said. “I suggest we split up, and bring any useful materials here.”

  “Alright, but just be careful.”

  Paladin put a hand on his sword and spun on his heel, his cloak swinging over his shoulder. “Same to you.”

  /////

  Paladin had found exactly what he needed with incredible ease. His orb of light could dart in and out of the scrap, allowing him to see into the cracks, not wasting his time searching everywhere. Eventually, he found what he was looking for: a disused petrol generator. He pulled the scrap aside and dragged it out. Usually, he’d hack his way through with lightning infused swipes, and use his magic enhancements to help carry the heavy generator. Now, the only magic he was using was to control the light orb, which was relatively simple.

  He wasn’t used to magic taking so much physical effort. It felt like going from swimming through water to swimming through mud: he could still do it, but he was constantly being pushed back, and something at the back of his mind was constantly telling him he shouldn’t. He’d almost passed out immediately after his meeting with Arthur, and he did his best not to to save face. He wanted to look strong in front of him, of course. He desperately needed a guide in this universe, and if he didn’t have this jaded traveler at his side, he wouldn’t have anything.

  Paladin opened up the generator, checking it for fuel. Surprisingly, some still remained in liquid form, and was a slightly brighter colour than the oil based fuels he was used to. Maybe this universe had different oil than what he was used to? Regardless, he didn’t have a way of finding out.

  Sitting with his back to the generator, Paladin turned out the light for a little while, breathing a sigh of relief like there was a great weight lifted off of him. The absolute darkness was somewhat nice for him, considering he’d had this bright, sterile light with him constantly for the past four days. He’d been tired the entire time. His helmet and his natural bravado made it easy to mask how truly weak he felt from Arthur.

  He sighed. “I need to resolve this, before it gets worse.”

  Paladin closed his eyes and reached out with his arm. Magic didn’t need physical gestures (even if witches and wizards told him otherwise) but it often helped from a mental standpoint. He physically reached out to an immaterial well of energy, a force of infinite possibility that bound this universe together where science would not. It was the same in his world, but it was different enough to be noticable. Magic back home felt like water, that would conform and bend to his body. This one had a lot more pushback, but recognising his skill, still welcomed him.

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  He felt lightning crackle against his skin. It was the magic he was familiar with, the one his mind and body had been conditioned to learn from rigorous training and religious doctrine. He reached beyond, felt the shocks subside, almost disappointed. He felt something within the magic. It was physical, almost leathery, but it was just out of reach, and within a second, it was gone. Something else pressed back against his hand. Paladin realised this was the same thing that was limiting his power earlier, but now he was focused, he could tell what it was. He moved his arm around to grab it, and he confirmed his suspicions.

  There was a hand reaching out to him.

  Paladin interlocked his fingers with the palm.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Paladin said. “I don’t wish to hurt you.”

  The hand tensed for a second, but then it replied by holding his hand in the same way.

  “Can you tell me who you are?” Paladin asked.

  He heard a voice stuttering, trying to speak, but ultimately failing. Then, the hand was yanked away from him. Paladin tried to reach further, hoping maybe he could find the figure or even regain his full magic, but then he felt a hard surface stop him. Yet despite being hard, he could feel it ripple like water. Then, the surface pushed back hard.

  Paladin’s arm was flung back into the generator, pinned by some invisible force. He went for his sword, but soon his other arm was grappled in the same way. Something was close to his face, breathing, with breath so cold his armour began to frost over. He had no idea what it was, but he could tell the creature was vast. Paladin opened his eyes, and he still saw nothing. The creature was either cloaked in darkness, or it was the darkness.

  “What are you?” Paladin asked.

  “I am this,” it responded.

  “Please, be more specific,” Paladin said. He chuckled, trying his best to hide how nervous he was. If this being was strong enough to reach through magic itself to pin him down, he was certain it could crush his skull in an instant.

  “What you see, what you feel, what you think.”

  “All I see is darkness. All I feel is fear.”

  “I am that.”

  Paladin tried to pull his arm free with considerable effort, trying his best to call on the magic he found earlier. It responded, more enthusiastically, like it wanted to push back against this presence. Whatever he had found wasn’t natural. The universe itself was on his side. Lightning crackled across his skin. He began to pull himself free.

  “Is your name This or That?” Paladin asked, mockingly. “I have met beings with many names before, but never those two.”

  “You are in no position to ask my name,” the creature growled.

  Paladin slowly began to rise to his feet, pushing back against the claws of darkness, slowly reaching for his sword. Bright blue sparks jumping from him onto the ground and against the metal that surrounded him. Electricity coursed through his veins, granting him strength and will. This was how magic should feel.

  “I believe I am,” Paladin replied. “I have defeated many monsters where I am from. Warlocks, dragons, machines, things from beyond the stars, they have all fallen to my feet. I am weaker here, true…but that does not mean I am weak. I have slain worse than you. So tell me your name, while we still have time.”

  He heard a pause, and a low, monstrous growl.

  “I am the Dominion, the Worldwyrm.”

  Massive teeth bore into Paladin’s chest, puncturing his heart and lungs, crushing his ribs. He screamed, blood splattering into his helmet as he collapsed. For a second, he saw it. The darkness curled and twisted into a towering figure, a head the size of the junkyard, a body the size of the whole town, two beady lights for eyes. It watched him fall with tangible glee. Paladin stared at it, doing his best to stay defiant, but it was no use. He watched it vanish into the dark as the life began to leave him.

  He reached out desperately one last time, muttering to himself, barely able to form words.

  “Please…please…I don’t want to die here…let me go home one last time…”

  His arm collapsed, his body failing him even as his mind tried to pierce through the veil of magic that was becoming more and more distant. He called, as best he could, but he couldn’t stop his consciousness from slipping.

  Visions sprung up in his mind, not from magic, but his own brain. Memories of his training. Feeling the raw power of magic for the first time, almost overwhelming him. Memories of an ancient war fought in the shadows of cold, modern cities. He remembered becoming the Paladin, to lead the Knightly Orders into a new era of prosperity against the encroaching dark. He remembered meeting friends for the first time, from the most unlikely places. He remembered losing them. He remembered moving on from his universe, unsure of his goal in life now his war was one. As he died, one thought crossed his mind.

  This can’t have been what it meant.

  Then, something on the other side listened.

  A golden light floated around him. Internal organs reknit themselves. Wounds closed. Life slowly began to re-enter his limbs. His eyes fluttered open like he’d just woken from a refreshing sleep. The only difference was that he was rapidly panting, still terrified.

  “Please, bring him to us,” he heard a new, soft voice mutter. “Come to the Clocktower. You still have a part to play in all this. Please…”

  A hand touched him on the shoulder, but then he felt it quickly retract. He opened his eyes. He was alone.