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The number he had seen with his own eyes.
"Ninety-nine thousand."
Sekhmet’s stomach turned cold.
"If this man is too high for me to read, that means..."
His gaze flicked to the cloaked figure again, just a fraction.
"Higher than ninety-nine thousand."
"Higher than a half-god."
Sekhmet swallowed.
"So he is a god."
The thought sat in his skull like a stone. In Null, gods were not rare. But being close to one without knowing their mood was like standing next to a sleeping beast and hoping it didn’t dream of eating you.
Sekhmet forced himself to look away.
He kept his face calm.
Lily didn’t notice his internal storm, but she noticed his silence.
"What," she asked quietly.
Sekhmet shook his head slightly.
"Nothing," he said.
Bat Bat sniffed the air and whispered, "Cloak man smells scary."
Sekhmet hissed, "Stop smelling dangerous people."
Bat Bat blinked.
"I smell everything," it argued.
They reached the inspection point.
A guard captain stepped forward, helmet tucked under his arm. His armor was a bright steel-blue with the city crest on the shoulder. His eyes moved from Lily’s face to Sekhmet’s boots, then to Bat Bat.
His brows rose.
He did not ask about the bat first. That alone was impressive discipline.
"Lady Lily," the captain said, bowing properly. "Welcome back to Slik."
Lily nodded once.
"Captain Rorran," she replied. "Open the way."
The captain’s eyes softened with relief, then sharpened with duty again.
"We will," he said. "But protocol stands. Your escort must declare items and submit to a scan."
Sekhmet’s mind tightened.
"Scan."
The captain gestured.
A pair of guards rolled forward a waist-high slab of gray crystal etched with runes.
A combat stone variant, used for scanning cargo and items.
The captain looked at Sekhmet.
"State your name and trade affiliation," he said.
Sekhmet’s voice stayed steady.
"Sekhmet Dawn," he replied. "Merchant household. Dawn House."
The captain paused a fraction.
"Dawn House," he repeated, the name clearly meaning something.
He looked Sekhmet up and down again, then nodded.
"Declare your storage," he ordered.
Sekhmet chose his words carefully.
"Pocket storage," he said. "Relic-based."
He did not lie.
He just didn’t say it was a land.
The captain signaled to the crystal slab.
"Place your hand."
Sekhmet stepped forward, placed his palm on the cold surface.
The runes flared faintly.
Fzzz...
The stone hummed like it was tasting his chaos energy and deciding if he was worth the trouble.
A guard beside the captain read the runes as they formed lines of light.
"Chaos energy purity," the guard announced.
Sekhmet’s jaw tightened slightly.
Numbers were a curse.
But the guard’s eyes narrowed in confusion.
"Purity reading... unstable."
The captain frowned.
"Unstable?"
The guard adjusted the angle of the reading crystal and tried again.
Fzzz...
The runes flickered and then dimmed.
"It’s reading a suppression signal," the guard said slowly. "Like a training tool is anchoring his real output."
Sekhmet did not react.
Lily’s eyes flicked to him.
The captain nodded once, suddenly understanding why Sekhmet looked like a man who could survive purgatory without looking like a god.
"Training restraint," the captain said. "Fine. It explains the mismatch."
Sekhmet’s mind made a note.
"Mismatch."
The city guard was noticing the same thing Sekhmet had noticed for months: his displayed battle power and his actual survivability did not line up.
The scan rune moved to the storage reading.
The crystal slab pulsed again.
Fzzz...
The guard reading the runes blinked.
"Storage... detected."
The captain waited.
The guard hesitated.
"Size reading is... abnormal," he said carefully.
Sekhmet’s heartbeat slowed.
Ba - dum... Ba - dum...
The captain narrowed his eyes.
"How abnormal?"
The guard swallowed, then forced himself to continue.
"It’s not a standard pocket," he admitted. "It... it has terrain signatures."
Silence hit for a breath.
Several guards looked at Sekhmet like he might be smuggling a small kingdom.
Sekhmet’s mind raced.
"Terrain signatures. Damn it."
Lily’s gaze snapped to Sekhmet, sharp.
Sekhmet spoke before she could.
"Relic-based," he repeated calmly. "Old. Unstable. It does not behave like normal storage."
The captain studied him for a long moment.
Then he did something unexpected.
He sighed.
Like a man who had seen enough nonsense in Slik to know when to pick his battles.
"Relic storages exist," the captain said. "Rare. Dangerous. But not illegal if registered."
He looked at Sekhmet.
"Are you carrying living prisoners inside it," he asked bluntly.
Sekhmet’s expression did not change.
"No," he answered.
That was true in the way officials cared about.
He did not consider the half-dead ghoul he had fed on last night a "prisoner." He had panicked. He had stored him to keep Lily from seeing. The man now lay in the void land, alive, changed, breathing in the empty space like a mistake Sekhmet hadn’t decided how to correct yet.
The runes would not detect it.
Void land did not read like a normal pocket dimension. It swallowed signals. It hid what it held like darkness hides light.
The captain nodded.
"Any cursed gods’ remnants," he asked.
Sekhmet’s mind twitched.
"Define cursed."
He answered with the safest truth.
"Nothing active," he said.
The captain held Sekhmet’s gaze, then stepped back.
"Register it at the relic office within three days," he ordered. "If you do not, and it causes an incident, Dawn House will pay the fines."
Sekhmet nodded once.
"I understand."
The captain turned to Lily.
"Lady Lily," he said. "We will send word to the City Lord."
Lily’s jaw tightened. "Do not," she said.
The captain blinked.
Lily’s eyes hardened. "Not yet," she added. "I want to walk in without trumpets."
The captain hesitated, then bowed.
"As you wish."
Then he glanced past her shoulder.
"Your escorts," he said, voice lowering. "Where are they?"
Lily’s face tightened.
"All dead," she said.
The words landed like stone.
The captain’s expression shifted. No pity. Respect.
"They fulfilled their duties," he said quietly.
Lily nodded once, jaw clenched.
The captain hesitated, then asked, "How did they die?"
Lily’s eyes sharpened.