Bruno ran his hands over his face, barely illuminated by the glow of the campfire. "I really wish you hadn't done that, Ruth."

Ruth raised an eyebrow, doing her best to keep the rest of the 'warriors' in her sight. They'd all agreed to stand down for the moment, but there was no telling if and when they'd change their minds. "Done what? Fought back? What, you wanted me to act like a good little prisoner?"

"For the moment, yeah," Bruno sighed, exasperated. "Play along until we can work out what the situation is. That's a basic tactic in espionage."

Ruth huffed, crossing her arms. "Well, I'm no spy."

"Clearly."

A moment later, Bruno's harsh expression shifted into the carefree smile of Serena, who leaned forward to rapidly poke the campfire with a stick. "Bruno's really annoyed, Ruth," she said, unhelpfully.

"Uh-huh." Ruth watched the crowd as they spoke -- the 'warriors' were keeping their distance, unsettled by their appearance and strange abilities. Their apparent leader, Lily, had made herself scarce shortly after Ruth had agreed to let her go.

"He almost had them believing this story about how we were a family of merchants with a genetic condition. I think that would have been a really good cover story, Ruth! Do you?"

Ruth shrugged sullenly. "Doesn't matter now, I guess."

Serena's smile flipped into a frown. "Guess not. Are you worried about Skipper?"

"I'm worried about everyone," Ruth muttered, staring into the fire. "Y, how could I not be? Skipper's apparently still unconscious -- and they won't let me see him -- and nobody even knows where Dragan is. And we're not exactly in friendly territory either. How couldn't I be worried?"

"If you're stressed out," Serena said chirpily. "You should just share it with your friends. If everyone is stressed out, that means there's less stress to go around!"

A bitter smile crossed Ruth's lips. She loved Serena, she really did, but sometimes the girl's positivity crossed the line into outright self-delusion. There was only so far talking out your feelings could take you -- the sources of those feelings weren't going anywhere, after all.

"Besides," Serena continued, sticking up. "I can confirm one-hundred percent that Skipper is okay! They let me and Bruno visit him when we first woke up. They have some kind of Aether-user keeping him from dying, so that's great!"

That didn't sound great, but it didn't exactly sound awful either. "And what about Dragan? Where the hell is he, then?"

Lily's cold voice cut through the calm. "Coren." She'd stepped out of the crowd of warriors, her own arms crossed, lips curved into a scowl so deep it was almost caricature.

Ruth stiffened slightly -- would the girl try to make another go at it?

"What's a Coren?" Serena asked innocently, cocking her head with none of the caution Ruth displayed.

Lily ignored her -- instead, her eyes remained fixed on Ruth. "You really think I would've believed you were merchants? You fell from the damn sky -- plus, you have a Guardian Entity. Where the hell did you get it?"

"What's a Guardian Entity?" Serena asked -- once again, she was ignored.

"Dunno what you're talking about," Ruth shrugged. "But you sound crazy. If we fell from the sky, we'd be dead. That's just basic science. Plus, I don't even know what a Guardian Entity is."

Lily snorted. "Liar. That armour of yours is obviously a Guardian Entity -- and a Guardian Entity isn't something you can get by accident. It's given to you by the Regulators, like how Ted got his. So, either you're with them and you're lying about it or or you're defecting from them and you're lying about it. Both bad ideas."

"What's a Regulator?" asked Serena.

"You said Dragan's been taken to Coren," Ruth said, ignoring Lily's accusation -- she didn't have to prove anything to her. "So Coren's a place, then? A town or something?"

Lily stared at Ruth for a long time, her gaze drilling right into her eyes. Her fists at her sides clenched and unclenched as she mulled things over. Finally, she clicked her tongue.

"You really don't know anything, do you?" she mumbled. "How the fuck…?"

"We're not from around here!" Serena chipped in helpfully. "That's why we don't know stuff! It's not suspicious!"

Finally, Lily acknowledged Serena, her gaze adjusting to target the blonde girl instead. "Where are you from, then?" she asked quietly.

Like water freezing over, Serena's carefree expression hardened into Bruno's hard gaze.

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you," he said.

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The tall man, Prester Garth, led Dragan through the secluded monastery. This section at least was like a long, wide hallway flanked on either side by stained glass windows. Images of shifting gods and mighty heroes clashed with depictions of snarling, eyeless monsters, the light shining through them and casting their mirrors on the floor.

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"Are you from the Supremacy, or the UAP? Or perhaps the… Final Church, it's called?" Prester Garth asked, hands clasped behind his back. "You don't strike me as a monk, but appearances can be deceiving."

Dragan narrowed his eyes as he stared at the tall man's back. From the culture and the level of technology, he'd assumed this to be a Lilith World, but this man clearly had knowledge of outside society.

"Are you surprised?" Garth asked, turning over his shoulder to regard the comparatively tiny boy. "To learn I am not ignorant of the world?”

Dragan winced inwardly: this guy was sharper than expected. At least for the moment, lying would get him nowhere.

"Yeah," he confessed. "I didn't expect you to know such specifics, at least."

Garth smiled thinly. "Had you spoken to me an hour earlier, you'd have been correct in that assumption -- but I had the opportunity to sample the memories of one of your contemporaries. As such, my knowledge base has greatly expanded."

Dragan raised an eyebrow. "And yet you don't sound so surprised." If the outside world really had been unknown to this man, surely he'd be shocked to receive such a breadth of information -- not calm enough to talk about it barely an hour later.

"I don't, do I?" Garth's smile didn't shift. "And it surprises me that you didn't ask whose memories I sampled. Let me tell you now that it is an unpleasant process. You understand it could have happened to one of your comrades, yes?"

"No," Dragan shook his head.

"No?"

"No," Dragan repeated. "If you'd done that to one of my friends, I'd have killed you already."

The assured smile on Garth's face faltered for a single, satisfying moment before he chuckled -- the laugh sounded a little more fake than before. "Indeed," he said, putting a polite hand to his mouth. "That woman's memories didn't present you as the most dangerous foe, but your eyes have promise. Perhaps I should be more cautious around you."

As Garth said that, Dragan caught sight of something -- something moving, flowing around the wooden rafters high above them.

It was a cloaked figure, trails of red and blue fabric swaying behind it like a hundred tails as it glided in the air, looking down at Dragan. It's entire body was covered by that red-and-blue cloak, and it's face by a bone-white mask -- but still, through the tiny slits in the porcelain, Dragan could see sparkling sapphire pupils glaring at him resentfully.

"Please understand, however," Garth said -- he hadn't budged an inch. "That perhaps you too should be more cautious around me. I am never unprotected, you see."

Dragan looked again. The spectre was gone.

"Is that what happens to me now?" he asked, voice low. "I get my 'memories sampled' -- like I'm your handy encyclopedia?"

Garth shook his head. "Of course not. When one is given two valuable resources, it doesn't do to spoil both. I'd prefer you share your knowledge with me of your own free will."

Spoil? Whatever this memory sampling process was, then, it wasn't pleasant. An Aether technique, maybe? Come to think of it, did they even have Aether here?

"In time," Garth said, stopping to serenely observe a massive window -- decorated with images of dancing sprites. "You will come to trust me. And then we can accomplish great things."

"Like what?" Dragan sneered -- he didn't much care for the Prester's patronising tone.

Garth turned to look at him, warped light playing upon his features, making them indistinct -- and smiled gently.

"Saving the world, of course."

----------------------------------------

"That's crazy," Lily muttered, face pale, her hands scratching her hair as she stared into the fire. "Y'people are fucking nuts."

"It's true," Bruno said firmly, leaning forward. "We're from another world -- somewhere beyond this planet. The star you said you found us in? That was our vessel. It crashed."

Ruth bit her lip. Should they really be telling Lily all this? With every word, the girl seemed closer to just straight up collapsing. A person's worldview could only take so much of an assault.

"Your… vessel?" Lily murmured, as if the words themselves were foreign. "What, like a boat?"

"Sort of. Imagine a boat that can fly through the sky -- through the skies between planets. We were attacked, though, and we came down here. That's the honest truth."

Lily looked up from the fire, staring into Bruno's eyes. It seemed impossible at this point, but she grew a fraction even paler. "You are, aren't you? Oh gods, you are."

"Forget about that," Ruth snapped -- her mind was elsewhere. "What we have to worry about--"

Lily scoffed, cutting Ruth off. "Forget about it? W-What, forget I'm talking to two, what, space aliens?"

Bruno shook his head. "No. We're the same species. Differences like the ones between us and you aren't that uncommon out there."

"There are people with reachers?" As Lily asked that, her hand unconsciously brushed against her left antler.

"Among other things," Bruno nodded. "They're called Scurrants. It's a general term for--"

"What about Dragan?!" Ruth shouted, firmly killing the conversation.

Bruno shifted uncomfortably on the log he was sitting on, gulping down some words before finally speaking.

"We…" he began. "We need to be smart about this."

"And what does that mean?"

Lily minced her words much less. "If your friend's still alive -- and that isn't a sure thing -- then he's in the middle of the most secure city in the world. Going after him is suicide."

Bruno thumped his fist against his chin, looking into the fire. "If we can get some intel, I'm sure we could make a plan to--"

I don't want to lose what I have.

No. Enough of this. Ruth stood up from her makeshift seat with such speed that the log rolled backwards into the undergrowth. The nearest 'warriors' flinched at her sudden movement, and even Lily's body stiffened.

She'd made a good first impression, then.

"Which direction is Coren?" Ruth asked. "I'll go get him."

Lily's bark of laughter was mocking, humourless -- the clap of her hands even more so. "No way. You think I'm letting you out of my sight?"

Ruth looked down at the girl, her gaze cold. "You think you could stop me?"

"You might be surprised."

"I'll fight anyone I need to to get my friends back," Ruth promised, sparks of red Aether building around her body. "If I've gotta start with you, that's no problem. You really wanna try me right now?"

Bruno stood up, holding his hands out placatingly -- no doubt ready to project forcefields if he needed to. "Now hold on," he said hurriedly. "There's no need for us to fight amongst ourselves."

Even though Ruth's eyes were fixed on Lily, she replied to Bruno -- ignoring the various weapons the 'warriors' were beginning to point in her direction. "You're wrong twice there, Bruno."

"Ruth," Bruno hissed. "Stop it."

Ruth closed her eyes and the girl -- the vicious girl she thought she'd left behind -- spoke through her mouth. "First: there's no 'ourselves' here -- there's us, and there's them. Second…"

Her Skeletal claws appeared over her fingers, glinting blue in the moonlight.

"...if they're standing in our way, that's all the reason I need."

----------------------------------------

The gentleman sniffed disdainfully, watching the rabble from his elevated position. His comrades had considered pursuing the miscreants at this time of night to be a fruitless endeavour, but Percival Elias was not the sort of man to break off the hunt midway through.

The majority of these rebels were mere garbage -- children with barely enough sense or strength to hold onto a spear. Only a few of the targets were of any worth, and three of them were standing in front of that campfire.

He couldn't have asked for better luck.

Percival Elias had once been a teacher -- and if there was a single thing he'd learnt during that hellish time, it was that there was no greater motivator than pain. He held his hands out in front of him --

"Guardian Entity - Wanyūdō."

-- and the forest burst into flames.