A great exultation, subdued/jubilant/anxious in various measures, rises to greet the descending pixies.
The cheers are infinitely frustrating, but not unexpected. The fearful cries are curious; but few in number and not yet worth thinking on. It’s Todd’s own initial reaction that’s got him so angry. His first feeling (regarding falling starlight) had been relief; relief in knowing someone was coming to tell him what to do.
What ugly kind of hope is built, not on safety, but on a well defined itinerary?
The pixies descend in formation, with Aefore at the apex position; no flourishes, no acrobatics. Their expressions are severe, and the heat of them bears down oppressively.
“Children of Earth,” the gold pixie’s voice booms. Her color is sharp against the black sky, like she was cut onto it by a palette knife. Then her presence resolves and her face softens. “I am so glad you are all safe.”
Todd forcefully drags his gaze away from the pixies and confirms he’s caught in their sensory dullness field. Once he perceives the haziness of the space around him, it becomes easier to surface back into sound, shape, and color.
“It is clear to us now that we can no longer afford to ignore the threat brewing on the planet Caqaiba IV,” Aefore continues. “Tonight’s attack… we have come to believe that it is a preface to something worse.”
The faces of the other human cultivators stare up in a slack-jawed haze. Had Todd worn the same vapid look when he’d been under?
“We had been hoping that there would be brave souls among you who would have the courage to search Caqaiba for answers. But I am afraid that circumstances have forced our hand. Sister?” Aefore addresses Ciforre, who presses her hand to her mouth in a gesture of over-exaggerated reluctance.
“The redburr stinging crabs, as you imagine, sourced their raid from the remaining nest.” As she speaks, Ciforre raises an open palm upwards and a shimmering transparent image of the tunnel opening appears in the air above it. “They must be accessing the ventilation tunnels to bypass the residential security.”
Todd can’t help but snort. Ventilation tunnel? In a solid stone wall? Any air in their rooms is either coming in through the water spout, or is just plain magic.
Ciforre traces her finger through the air along a jagged red line that leads to a pale white cube that raises out of thin air. She makes a sharp gesture and the red line sharply splits. “We have re-secured your rooms and sealed the access tunnels. But the bad news is the residential ventilation was not the only system they were able to access.”
“They killed the air,” Befor issues in a singsong whisper.
“Yes. I wouldn’t phrase it that way, but it’s true. Significant damage has been dealt to the life support systems.” Ciforre draws another red line in the hovering diagram, this time down from the tunnel entrance and descending to a pulsing red dot. “We believe they breached a maintenance shaft and then accessed a system hub.”
“It’s busted bad.”
Ciforre glances disapprovingly at Befor. “We don’t know how severe the damage is yet. We can’t until we have eyes on the support terminal hub. But I have assembled some preliminary projections, and…” she sighs. “There may only be enough air to provide a single day of breathing at present usage.”
A moment of stunned silence hangs over the plaza, which may have a great deal to do with mass hypnotic stupefaction, and less to do with authentic dramatic pause.
“So what can be done, Sister?” Aefore growls/purrs knife-sharp: a leopard voice.
Pointing at the red dot, Ciforre swipes her hands apart. The image in the air expands into a schematic of a device which communicates no useful information whatsoever. “Repairs,” she suggests tentatively, tapping on a nondescript squiggle. “Maybe significant ones. But that will mean a need for parts. Materials. And in the meantime, the redburr will continue unopposed in their sabotage of internal systems.”
Todd notices another face in the audience that seems free and aware. He locks eyes with Soup Nina, and the two exchange a nod of acknowledgement from across the mob.
“Then we have no choice,” Aefore declares. “We call upon the noblest of you. Volunteers to descend into the pit of the redburr infestation and root them out once and for all. Once you do, you will have purchased a full day of respite to prepare before all of you will have to disembark onto the planet’s surface below.”
“While we enact repairs,” Ciforre interjects.
“While we perform repairs,” echoes Aefore in a low voice. “Of course.”
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Swooping around in a bubbling arc, Befor descends to floor level. “Sounds like we gotta give out your presents from yesterday’s games, if you widdle humans are gonna go down to the planet!”
Feeling the numbing effect of the attention field fading, Todd pulls up his quest menu. Two new entries have appeared:
2. House Cleaning (Difficult) – Suppress the threat of the Redburr Stinging Crab hive. Rewards: [Fool’s Luck Barrier Token]x3(shared), [Berylsteel Crystal Shards]x18(shared), [F – Illusory Formation Flags, penta-8-yard]x1(shared) – Performance Reward: [Title: Arthropod Slayer]
3. Have You Tried Rebooting? (Easy) – Reactivate the device at the base of the tunnel. Reward: 100₦. Performance Reward: [F.8 – Inscription Rod], [Nexus Crystal: Metal]x3
Todd reviews the quests and notes that both appear to be optional, and further that there is no mention of air supplies or immediate danger.
Befor slaps her hands down on a large wooden box that is balanced on top of a narrow iron-columned podium. Neither had been there a moment ago. “Third place!” She cries out. “Dash event, Kreutzer, that’s you!” She giggles and spins in place while one hand hovers in position and beckons him over.
“Cosmic energy control, flux event third place winner. Randall Cho,” Ciforre raises a small bamboo box over her head as she makes her announcement. The pixies are not wasting time as they hand out the small parcels for runner up contenders, and Aefore begins calling out the triple strike third place as well.
Todd’s name is announced for his third place achievement in cosmic energy breadth and he approaches the violet star-gravity pixie with cupped hands. She arches an eyebrow at him and smirks before placing a misshapen glass bottle in his hands (careful not to touch him directly). It’s flattened and oblong with an almond shaped mouth, stoppered by an irregular cork. Inside, three pale white pills tinkle against the glass of this sleeve-like bottle.
“It’s good to focus on your long term growth. But don’t completely ignore your short term needs,” she whispers before waving him away dismissively.
Suddenly Befor rises up high and loudly squeals. “There’s been a teeny little change to the results of the marksmanship event!” Grinning widely, she produces a rectangular leather band and unrolls it. Five black iron needles are nestled into slits in the band, and the bubblegum pixie holds them out towards a dyed blonde cultivator with facial piercings. Todd had maybe spoken to the kid once before.
But whatever Befor’d planned on saying is lost. “What –” Ciforre flashes up next to her sister and squeezes her hand. The two exchange a rapid string of hushed words, but the smiles never leave their faces. Ciforre tilts her head amiably and laughs once. “– my sister was trying to say is: we will be unable to present first place for the marksmanship event. I’m afraid that our winner was injured during the attack and is currently recuperating in her room.”
A voice calls out, asking at Lynne Genton’s state of well-being. Murmurs echo the sentiment.
Ciforre motions for calm. “She graciously has offered to defer her reward during her convalescence. She was quite insistent that it might be put to better use in the hands of her peers.” Ciforre’s lips and eyelids peel back wider, displaying more and more white as she looks at Befor. “But while her gesture is appreciated, it is also very much not in keeping with the spirit of the rules. Right, sister?”
“Fine,” Befor pouts. “She was just trying to help, but we’ve gotta follow the rules. Abby F, Todd Kabopermoose, come up and get your junk.”
Since most of the winners placed in multiple events, a small group has formed at the foot of the crystal. Joining them, the Fletcher girl pushes past Todd to collect the iron throwing darts. Her hands bob down noticeably at the weight of them, and she inspects one withdrawn dart with a frown.
“Congratulations on mediocrity, hooray!” Befor shoves a tattered, folded square into Todd’s hands.
Turning it over in his arms, he grips a corner and lets gravity unfold the garment. A tangled mesh of netted leather and fibre falls most of the way to the floor. It weaves browns and greys together, with little tassels and fragments of leather. Overall, the tangle’s shape is trapezoidal with one narrow bit that widens out sharply after. “Thanks?”
Afterwards, the first place prizes are awarded with a good deal more pageantry. Aefore removes her own onyx mail coat and gifts it Drew. Ciforre presents her stone book to Abhigjna. Even Befor plucks off a silver toe ring off her foot, though Candra holds her [Greed Satchel] open to receive it instead of touching the ring directly.
The gesture of presenting personal possessions as magical gifts to the first place cultivators serves as a remarkable public relations coup. The treasures inspire confidence (as well as camaraderie) by representing symbols of a direct investment on behalf of the pixies.
Aside from the black mail, rock book, and foot loop, four other marvels fill out the incomplete set of seven rewards. Drew receives the obnoxious bulk of the haul, including a copper sword that swelters with internal heat and a tiny origami horse which folds out to the size of a real one. Doctor Chowdhury tactfully accepts a small wooden flute for her accomplishment in the multi-target event, though she seems upset once Ciforre explains how it works. And finally Walter receives a fist-sized ornate brass cage that trails an arm’s length of chain.
The smaller parcels, bottles, boxes and knickknacks get stashed away for safekeeping. No one seems to have received any healing pills, but there are several strange medicinal goods among the distributed gifts. Todd’s own pills are called [F – Canid-Marrow Energy Replenishment Pill]s, though a great deal of his happiness with them is likely at risk depending on just what kind of canid they’re made from.
Hefting the glass vial in his hand, Todd gazes up at the pixies. He watches as Ciforre addresses a question from Randall, and as the young man flips a thumb over the edge of a thin stack of paper talismans, the pixie adjusts the silver rim of her glasses and taps her finger against the top page.
Todd restores the pills to his bag, taps his [Mercury Rod] to sustain its shape, then bends over. Snatching his netting reward off the floor he shoves it into the corner of his bag. Holding the flap open for a long moment, Todd muses at how his satchel can look so full and feel so empty. His eyes drift back up to the pixie and entertains a funny thought.
If he had won first place, he idly wonders, would she have given him the glasses off of her face? Ha. Wouldn’t that have been a sight.