[Player Log Start!]

[Log Holder: Asadullah Khan]

[Level: 1]

[! Translated From Urdu !]

Fire was a terrible thing.

That’s not necessarily true. Scientists think that fire was what allowed pre-human ancestors to use less energy to digest food and instead redirect it to using their brains. Which gives you modern day humans. The special ones, who progressed and spread everywhere and made the world a whole lot worse. Great job, fire, very impressive.

But aside from humans, most animals were terrified of fire. And they should be. It hurt. Latched onto his fur and clothes and smoldered it black. Ate away at his flesh and hair and left nothing behind.

The second Roiland had appeared, every instinct in him was telling him to run. But he didn’t. He gritted his teeth and lunged forward with sharply extended claws, because if he didn’t, Ben would lose that arm, and he wasn’t going to let that happen to her.

He was the Guardian of Mira. He could take a hit that any man or beast would shudder from.

Roiland’s skin was hot, searing through the thick fur and sensitive paw pads. Only a single scratch managed to land before he had to relent and back away, shifting back into human form. No need to run the djinn dry when he was going to need all its power soon.

But the Harbinger was also human at the end of the day, even if his motivations said otherwise. Asadullah’s claws cut through his skin all the same, with no extra durability. The single scratch he got in stretched all the way from his temple to his cheek, bleeding from the shallow graze.

The arsonist’s eyes roved down Asadullah’s body, a clinical look in his eye that made his skin crawl in disgust. Finally, his eyes landed on the bangles, and all the confusion cleared up immediately.

“You’re the djinn carrier.” He realized, “What happened to you?”

“You know who I am?” Asadullah asked, his fists shaking from restrained anger, “How? Were you people there when the… when the djinn…” Words failed him. The phantom memories of the heatwaves blistering over his skin rung clear in his mind, made even stronger by the burns currently littering over his body.

He wasn’t even surprised when Roiland laughed, just a little, but it might as well have been a full-bellied cackle, “My ‘people’? I was there, kid. Don’t remember me?”

He frowned, skin prickling sharply at the memory of that sweltering heat, completely alien in the cold mountains. He hated the heat at a visceral level, and even the djinn in his bangles agreed with that. Was it because this man had left such a permanent scar on his psyche? Because it sure felt like it.

“That was you?” He growled, remembering all the horror stories that had followed the djinn attack, “You were the one goading it into doing all that stuff? I’ll kill you!”

“Well, you’ve changed.” Roiland noted, rocking back on his heels, “Wish I could call it a good change, but…” He waved a hand over all of Asadullah. His ears flattened across the top of his head.

“Yeah, well, I grew up. Just what happens.” He replied, trying not to rush the conversation. He couldn’t really win in a fight, he knew that. At this point, it was just about stalling long enough to get Terry and Ben to safety. Which sucked because he was not good at this banter thing.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed about now, but you’re in the wrong dimension.” Roiland explained, as if it was easy to miss that he couldn’t speak the same language as anyone here.

“And?” He asked, guarded.

“We can get you back if you want.” He replied, putting his hand into his pocket, leaving himself open to an attack in favor of pulling out a panel of glass and metal, with a glowing ‘C’ above it. Another Console. Asadullah’s eyes widened as he looked at it. He wasn’t surprised that there were more out there, but it was still incredible to see.

“Harbinger Console’s allow the Player to go to whichever Realm they want to, once they reach a Warp Point.” Roiland explained, “You say the words, and we’ll have you back in the Minefields where you belong.”

It was a very tempting offer, and this guy knew it.

“You’re just saying that.” He tried to argue weakly.

“Have a little trust. Why would we lie to you about something like this? If anything, we want you to go back to the Minefields. I bet this whole thing is very confusing to you. Even more confused than you already are, I mean. Given what’s happening there.”

Right. The Apocalypse. The metal men raining from the sky. The end of the world that these people had heralded and were directly responsible for. It would suit their goals to be back there. Playing directly into their hands. Why?

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

They had facilitated the djinn. He knew that much. Laid waste to the mountains and everything surrounding them using it. Were they planning to the same again? Crack him open like a nut to let loose the destructive power that followed after him like a ball and chain?

“Yeah… I’m not taking that offer.” He decided, “Happy with what I have here.”

For the first time, Roiland’s face twisted into a proper scowl, “Listen here, you little prick, I need you to get your ass back to the Minefields and I need you to do it now.”

He reached forward, but Asadullah darted out of range, fur already stretching across his body before he could think too hard on it. Roiland retaliated with fire, but only short bursts, aimed at non-vital spots. None of the recklessness when Asadullah hadn’t been his target. He must be really important to their plans to scorch the world.

But Asadullah had different plans. His eyes were fixed on the delicate tablet in Roiland’s hands. It would be an incredible asset if he simply managed to get their hands on it…

Shrunk down into a black-footed midair and lunged straight for the guy’s throat. Managed to get a bite in, too, but let go immediately when his tongue nearly fried itself off. One strike though, that was all he needed, and he twisted around to curl himself around the tablet, expanding into human form to get a better handle on the thing as he dropped to the ground.

Not a very smart move as it turned out, because in that moment, Roiland took the opportunity to tighten his hands around Asadullah’s bracelet-covered arm. He froze, watching the motion happen in slow-motion as a million nightmare scenarios flashed by him.

The djinn would escape and lay ruin to everything. He would get fused with it permanently and it would steal his body. The Harbingers would spread this destruction far and wide. [Party(Main)] would lose because of him.

Except none of that happened. Instead, the bangles simply sat under his magma-hot grip, completely unchanged. Then a wave of black and yellow and red pulsed sharply, sending both Asadullah and Roiland blasting backwards. Roiland received the worst of it, as he was thrown directly into solid concrete, which bubbled and melted to let him melt right into it, which Asadullah was simply left standing there, blinking spots out of his eyes.

He stared at the ruins of the supermarket, and what was left of the fight. The Console was still in his hand. He turned around and ran out onto the highway Ben had highlighted, intent on getting to Hygeia. If the others knew what was good for them, they should already be on their way there. He should get there as soon as he could and pray that they would meet at the entrance.

Turns out, he needn’t have worried about it. When he was jogging down the highway he caught onto a pair of familiar scents. Not even his Tracking-nose was used for this. Just regular old feline-jacked senses.

He turned his head skywards, to one of the unnecessarily large advertisement boards. There, sitting on the little ledge in front of the advert, two people were sitting. One with their legs tucked up underneath them, the other dangling their feet into the air without a worry.

A smile broke onto his face, and despite it all, he still found the strength to wave over to them excitedly. The figure in a bright pink hoodie waved back just as enthusiastically, hurrying over to the precarious ladder built into the metal supports to climb down.

Terry grinned at him once he had gotten down, sheer joy on his face as he gesticulated at Asadullah in overwhelmed silence. It was Ben’s response he hadn’t foreseen, as she lunged off the ladder to wrap him into a rib-crushing hug.

“Oh, god, you cretin I thought you were going to die.” She wept, not able to swing him around because of her wrecked arm, but doing a valiant effort to anyways.

He patted her back uncertainly, “It’s okay.” He whispered, “I’m fine. You’re fine…-ish. We’ve got this.” He pulled away, turning to look Terry over, “You fine too, dude?”

Terry flushed and nodded, “It’s… it’s been a day.”

“And you left the supermarket!” Asadullah cheered, putting his hand up for a high-five, which was gladly returned, “How’re you feeling?”

“Scared.” He made a face, eliciting another laugh from Asadullah.

“It’s scary a lot of the time.” He allowed, “But it has its perks. Oh, and check this out: my prize!” He held up the tablet console he had nabbed from Roiland. Everyone’s eyes widened as they stared at the contraption. Another Console. After they had truly believed that they had the only one of its kind.

“Want to be the one to open it?” Ben asked, “I mean, you did win it, fair and square.”

If you could call falling back on your djinn to fight your battles all over again fair and square. Speaking of, were his bangles really alright? He squinted at the array of gold and glass, searching for cracks.

He was just being paranoid, he consoled himself. It had come out alright. He ejected the thought from his mind and moved on to open the Console. It was protected by biometric lock, some kind of iris scan was required? So, he held it up to his eye before anyone could stop him. An errant beep followed. Along with a red notification on the Console.

[Access-Seeker Identified as Hostile!]

[Applying Defensive Procedures followed by Self-Destruct…]

“Defensive Procedures?” Asadullah asked. His question was answered by a siren wail erupting from the tablet loud enough for him to drop it immediately. Ben clapped her hands over her ears, and Terry…

He just stood there, eyes wide and face ashy.

All around them, an ominous rustling began. Movement started up from every direction. Especially near the car jam they were standing beside. It was a zombie magnet.

Asadullah reached for it, trying to find some way to turn it off, but Ben batted his hand away from the device.

“It’s just going to get worse.” She warned him, voice not even audible through the screeching and the noise, “That display said that it was going to blow up anyway, so it’s not worth it. We’re going to have to make a run for it.”

Right. He straightened up, looking all around them. Maybe it was his paranoia, or a trick of the mint-colored moonlight bouncing off all the metal and damp in the area, but he could have sworn a hundred glowing eyes were looking right back.

“I’ll deal with it.” He told them, tapping the bangles to jog the djinn into action. No response came, and he remained his painfully human self. The bangles pulsed weakly against his skin, trying to convey some sort of message, but he understood. It had no fuel left in the tank. Either that or Roiland had legitimately damaged it somehow, but he couldn’t bear to consider that option.

“Yeah, okay, let’s run.” He agreed, turning around to where the path was clearest.

A full wall of shifting, stumbling masses was coming up from that direction. A royal procession being welcomed by the stiff hoard all around them.

[Player Log End!]