John never realised how inconvenient his sweat was until now. For the past few hours he had been helping to carry large logs for processing at the request of Gorekin, apparently to help the rest of his tribe understand how they weren’t a threat before they left. And such work in the humid forest, even as the temperatures slowly drifted colder and colder, built up a coat of thick sweat faster than he could scrape it off. He couldn’t take off his mask outside, given the spores in even the village clearing were too thick for his sensitive lungs and gills to tolerate, and that meant keeping the ancient plastic on his face for far too long. Normally the slime would dissipate easily if he discharged some electricity, evaporating into nothing as it conducted his power, but unfortunately flammable as this place apparently was that wasn’t much of an option either. His skin itched all over, and he could certainly imagine if he had some reflective surface to look at he would see welts all over where the mask met his face. Better than choking to death attempting to breathe he guessed, but not by all that much.

A loud, rolling growl shook him from his musing. Almost instinctively he tensed as he turned around, half expecting a vicious Spirit Beast, but instead found himself face to snout with one of Gorekin’s people. It was hard to read their faces, while they walked on two legs and seemed vaguely human at times by the end of his first day and a half here he found their expressions did not follow the same rules. They sniffed him a few times, from what he gathered observing Gorekin’s people when he could some form of greeting, and let out another series of warbling noises. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but he could vaguely guess by their posture and the tone of it that it wasn’t entirely friendly.

“Don’t worry. We won’t be here long, hopefully by tomorrow we will be out of your hair.” John said as his stomach rumbled. He had a craving for metal lately, and unfortunately there just wasn’t that much here. And given how much Gorekin had sacrificed on their behalf already he wasn’t going to eat the rest of his precious collection.

He wasn’t certain how much the words he said were actually comprehended, but the furred man… woman… person simply stared at him a bit more intensely before walking off.

“What was up with that?” Cobalt asked, her voice slightly muffled by the mask she wore. She had also been given a similar, trivial task involving wood. Splitting logs with her claws into planks, a feat that seemed to impress their hosts at least. He wasn’t exactly sure though, it was kind of frustrating trying to figure out exactly what they wanted or what they didn’t. Quite frankly he was fairly sure he would have preferred it if they had outright picked a fight.

He scolded himself for the impulsive thought, the fact they had been allowed to stay peacefully for three days was rather generous already given how much they seemed to distrust outsiders! What would Alexander say about this?

Suddenly John didn’t want to explore that train of thought anymore. Pushing through the strange feeling gnawing at his heart in his chest he quietly responded to Cobalt with a clipped. “I don’t know, doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Fine then, keep your secrets.” Cobalt sighed before continuing as she was.

He knew what happened to the Lead Cave, he knew what happened to Alexander, Magni and so many more good people… but it still didn’t feel real to him. He had only been there for a few months, but it was his home right? And for it to be gone without him even being there to see it, some part of him thought if he just marched south and damned the consequences he would find everyone just fine. Get scolded by Elder Aurelium for tarnishing the good Aurelium name or something, get into a stupid fight over meaningless kracking shit with Magni, read up on more dead-ends on what was going on with his arm…

Speaking of which… “Say, Gorekin is leaving his home tomorrow too. He has lived here all his life right? He said he was fine with it but… are we sure it’s ok?”

Cobalt paused for a moment and gave a sigh somewhere between defeated and uncertain. “Well, I don’t know. I don’t think we should push, if he truly doesn’t care it’s great for him. If he does… what can we really do to help?”

John fell silent then. She was right, of course. What could they do? They were effectively strangers who he had taken in as a curiosity and pitied enough to accompany so they didn’t go out and starve to death in the toxic woods. Though that was possibly an ungenerous interpretation of the furred giant, come to think of it. Times like this he wished he had Magni’s psychic talent, though he did insist using it to fix problems with blunt force was wrong and he sort of understood the concept, to him things were a lot simpler if you could just push through the meaningless garbage and get to what really mattered.

He set down his logs and went to pick up a few more, then paused. He could feel things at the edge of his awareness, little threads that connected him to… something. He wasn’t sure what it was yet, but was this the start of some psychic mutation? It was clearly underdeveloped, try as he might he couldn’t see what the threads meant or how to do anything with them, and if he didn’t focus all his efforts on seeing them they would fade into nothing just as quickly. Still, they existed, several of them soaring towards Gorekin’s cave and others into the deep woods. Many of them spiralling around his right arm coiling around the metal plates of ARTOS. What would-

Several of Gorekin’s people, hunters riding on massive hairless bears easily large enough to rival an adolescent Mauler, ran half panicked through the woods. Communicating something in their strange gutteral tongue to the rest. The Earth beneath them began to shake, spores flying through the air as something massive seemed to move towards them.

“What’s going on?” Cobalt asked, half panicked.

Gorekin ran over, apparently hearing the commotion, what John imagined was a concerned look on his face as one of his kin seemed to explain the situation to him. He next ran over to John who happened to be closer and gestured for Cobalt to join. Once she had arrived next to them he began to explain in semi-comprehensible rambles.

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“Mother Forest mad, think attack from East! Mother Forest send her warriors, Old Gods, fight! But one come close to us! Too close! Not know why but others say…” He trailed off.

Several burly looking furred giants, evidently hunters or soldiers, marched towards the humans and gave nasty glares, pointing their long spears directly at them. It wasn’t hard to see what they suspected.

“Tell them we have nothing to do with… whatever that is!” Cobalt said.

“Yeah! We have been here the whole time, and there has always been someone watching us at least!” John corroborated.

Gorekin nodded and gave an explanation in his native tongue which spiralled into what was evidently a heated argument. Between the growls, barks, hisses, warbles and other strange vocalisations it almost sounded like animals fighting, lacking the structure and clear intent even he could pick up from his other experiences here. It did not take a genius to see where this was going when the two burly warriors started to make concerning movements.

John did not think, he acted. Time slowing to a crawl as he instinctively channelled his power into himself, the red coils of ARTOS squeezing as his bloodstream was flooded with various chemicals in dosages that would be deeply unhealthy to a Mortal or Wretch. He moved between Gorekin and a colossal furred fist, and blocked the impact with his sturdy right arm. A deafening clang resounding through the air and vibrating through his bones as time resumed its usual pace.

Cobalt, seeing this, did not waste any time either. As the other enraged warrior moved to bat John aside she swelled in size, in an instant becoming on par with the furred giants and soon slightly taller. Enough to tackle John’s would-be other opponent before he could lay into him.

“What is wrong with you!” She yelled at them, likely knowing they probably didn’t understand her, and obviously not much caring. As she was her head did not change size with the rest of her in order to keep the mask on, a deeply unnerving sight. Which served a dual benefit apparently of being able to more easily dodge the enraged headbuts her prisoner made at her as he growled indignantly.

By this point quite the crowd had gathered, practically the whole village by John’s estimation. To be honest, it was quite the intimidating sight, especially given the fact the apparent tribe elders had begun to step in. And while they weren’t Elders in the same sense Elder Aurelium or Cobalt’s father was… the power they emanated was well and truly on that scale. An oppressive aura like a shadow of a great mountain against the suns Si-rich rays.

Gorekin raised his hands in the air and quickly yelled something in his tongue, before translating for the humans. “STOP! STOP! Everyone! Calm!”

Sensing what he meant Cobalt dropped her target from her grip, and John reluctantly retreated from his fighting stance. Though never once taking his eyes off the offenders.

A truly massive elder walked over, possibly the size of a small cottage or perhaps a large cabin, their lumbering steps shaking the ground beneath them almost as much as the power and intent that flared around them like a storm. They still spoke in that guttural language of all their people, but it was almost elegant in a way, and only more intimidating for it.

Gorekin continued to defend them, standing strong before the blazing gaze of the elder as he presented his case. Well, at least John assumed that was what he was doing. Behind him the two troublemakers had prostrated themselves, falling close to the floor as if trying to become one with it. Sensing it would probably be wise to do the same thing even if he lacked all the details, John began to do much the same, and Cobalt seemed to cautiously follow suit.

The elder snorted and to his shock spoke in thick, accented Glish. “Rise, child-men.”

Gulping, he swiftly obeyed the instructions. Going to his feet and not daring to turn away from the colossus before him. He assumed Cobalt was doing the same as well, but twisting his neck and averting his gaze to confirm was well and truly out of the picture.

“I do not trust you.” The elder said simply. “Your kind has not earned my trust. I remember when you foolishly attempted to burn the Mother-Forest. Even had you succeeded you would have doomed your own kind, and yet you still tried anyway. And I remember the tales, of how you created weapons that would poison the very world, crafted horrors that cannot be described and destroyed yourselves with them. However, in this case it does appear it is us who have done the transgressions. Still, even so, it seems you need to face judgement for some reason.”

“W-what do you mean? What could we have possibly done?” John shakily said, knowing exactly how foolish it was and nonetheless unable to resist the burning sense of injustice eating away at him.

“I don’t know yet. But we will find out.” The elder said simply.

“That- that doesn’t make sense! We have been with Gorekin the entire time we were out of the cave! We didn’t even choose to arrive here!” John yelled indignantly.

“John-” Cobalt hissed, but he was well and truly beyond listening to reason at this point.

“You speak of the crimes my ancestors did, as though I had any kracking say! Bomb them all for what I care! But just because we were born human doesn’t mean-”

“Perhaps I misspoke.” The elder cut him off, almost apologetically, before explaining in detail. “I am not the one procuring judgement, the spirits of the Old Wood have been restless lately. In a way not seen since the Great Burning, the Mother Forest has been sending her greatest warriors to defend her children, marching towards the East and forbidding our migrations from venturing towards the coast. And unfortunately for you, one of them seems to have taken an interest in your arrival. At least one of you, in some way, has roused the attention of the Forest like the threat in the East.”

“W-what?” He asked shakily. Unsure if he was understanding the implications correctly.

“In short, don’t take up your gripes with me.” The elder said, pointing in the distance behind him. “Take it up with them.”

John finally allowed himself to turn his head and saw a truly massive thing of rusted steel, gnarled roots and gigantic ropes of fungal mass binding it all together. It was easily larger than the elder he was arguing with just then, and even from this distance it was evidently leaking as much Si as it even with the fungi on its form draining away much of the excess before it could get into the air. Lumbering closer with deceptive speed as the villagers scrambled out of the way, it focused its single glass eye on a single target. John.

Or more specifically, his arm.

John felt the distinct sensation of all of the eyes studding ARTOS suddenly jerk in the direction of the new threat, as though actually seeing it and comprehending the sight and what it entailed. As though recognising a challenge, the massive golem let out a shrill synthetic howl before lumbering forward directly at him.