In the gloom, two faded lights streaked through the desolate valleys on the outskirts of Krreat. The lowgliders smoothly hummed as they skimmed over the flowery fields that decorated the hills. The souls gathered aboard were silent, their tension thick and bitter. Lost in their own thoughts, they longingly watched Krreat fade into the distance. The approaching darkness seemed to press in on them, making the night feel more suffocating with each passing second. The shadows, darker than black, slashed through the crimson glow that bathed the landscape. The lowgliders tore past the silhouette of the Vivant Tower, its ancient systems still stubbornly operating after eons of decay.
“Hold it!” one of the Hollows shouted, its voice cutting through the silence.
“A-Are you sure it’s here, Maurice?” A female ranger stammered, her voice trembling from one of the gliders
“Correct, be damned, you'll be tweakin’ too much for me to operate safely!” Maurice drawled from the shadows opposite to where it had originally spoken, its comedically bad cowboy accent contrasting its hoarse mechanical voice.
“Don’t do that!” She yelled, clenching her chest.
"Calli, you should relax,” the ranger besides her said, his voice smooth and gentle, like a flowing stream. “Breath in, and breathe out.”
“Are you kidding? How can I be calm? We're heading out on an abyssal wild hunt! I'm not some clueless moron like you Moros!” she snapped back.
“Naming calling demoralizes me, you know,” Moros replied, looking away from Calli with a pained expression.
Bern sighed, watching them bicker. He exchanged a knowing look with Siegwick before finally cutting in, his voice firm. “B squad, listen up. You’re tasked with providing support to the Trant station. In the worst-case scenario, you’ll act as the peel team, in case we need to defend the city.” He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. “And if we encounter any infections—gray blight, fribromorphosis, or Oto’s disease—you are to purge on sight. Be it friend or foe.” His navy blue eyes swept over B Squad, drilling the seriousness of the situation into them, making sure they fully understood the weight of their orders.
Siegwick cleared his throat, his voice steady and grave. “ Purge orders apply to both squads. That includes auto-termination.” The mood among the rangers grew even heavier as the atmosphere sank with realization. “If we’re dealing with an aggregate class anomaly, both squads will retreat to Vivant Tower E-21 and reassess the protocol. In the event we encounter a feral class, standard control operations will suffice. But if the anomaly is intelligent, CB Esoteric Protocol X 1-1-23 will be in effect, regardless of the entity caste. And if fate is truly against us—if we’re unfortunate enough to encounter an irregular—we retreat immediately and reassess. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!” Both squads barked in unison. As the respective squads' lowgliders began to part ways.
“If the Symbols align, I’ll let you eat my daughter’s cooking, Mourns!” Siegwick shouted as B Squad's low glider veered off.
Bern chuckled to himself, “Stay safe, Sieg!” He called after him.
The auburn-colored Hollow Maurice lingered for a moment, its metallic form gliding with a slight stagger. “See ya round’ Birdy.” It said, tipping its metaphysical hat slightly at Gaolbird.
“Safe travels, friend,” Gaolbird replied, its own massive frame dipping in a respectful bow before watching Maurice slither off to join B Squad.
“Alright A squad, let’s stay frosty.” Bern said, his tone steady and reassuring as the forest lights intensified, growing brighter as they burst past the forest’s edge.
The lowglider surfed smoothly through the air, but as they neared Cau Ridge, the harsh shadows cast by the clouds against the rocky terrain forced them to slow down. Among the six members of A Squad, only two had swam in the abyss before. Leaving the four rookies to quietly wallow with a growing sense of dread. But the presence of Chief Bern and ex-ORPA Blue Radomir provided a lifeline to calm, their inexperience and steady resolve anchoring the team as they ascended the mountain’s ominous heights.
“Hey Lena, how are you holding up?” a mellow, sweet voice whispered through the wind, but it was barely audible against the howling gusts.
"Rimma, could you repeat that?” Lena asked, straining to hear over the wind’s roar.
Before Rimma could respond, Radomir’s deep, booming voice cut through the noise. “She’s asking how you are doing, Miss Russo?”
Berns interrupted them, his tone firm but warm. “The motion sensors are detecting movement in the range ahead. Switch to infrared; fish for response from Carmela’s squad.”
A squad tensed up looking, turning their lights off. Lena focused on using her Kyyr ability. “I sense four people at the edge of the pass up ahead!”
The lowglider crawled up the rocky incline, the eerie glow of the forest below casting the landscape in shadow. The glow of the forest painted the sky in an unnatural hue. The colors seemed to pulse with a life of their own as the undeniable chill of the abyss settled over them, suffocating and heavy.
“Helmets on everyone!” Bern shouted, his voice cutting through the rising tension as he snapped his helmet into place, the joints locking with a sharp click. “The abyssal condensation is reaching hazardous levels up ahead!”
The crew quickly donned their ranger helms, the simple design encasing their heads in a tight see-through display that allowed for clear 360-degree vision. At the base of each helmet, a small purifier hummed, ready to be charged with their localized kyyr, ensuring they could breathe safely in the abyssal miasma.
“Communications check channel 1,” Bern’s voice crackled in the ears of all the rangers.
Almost in sync, they responded, “Check.”
Bern’s tone remained steady as he continued over the comms, “Any concerns before we reach the checkpoint? I know it's your first wild hunt, so speak up if you’ve got any worries. No shame in it, rangers.”
There was a brief pause, then comms cracked again. “Uhm—I-I... I’ve never done well on control mission training, sir,” a soft, trembling voice stammered, betraying the ranger’s nerves.
Bern let out a deep sigh of relief. “I’m glad you brought it up, Mateo. Control missions have always been tough for me too. In training, I found it awkward—control scenarios are less straightforward than purge missions. With purges, we’re actively minimizing chaos by directly addressing threats, but on control, we’re on the defense.” He paused for a minute, letting the words sink in as he slowed the lowglider. “But I’ve learned that control missions are easier to understand when you’re on the field.” He glanced down at the young man. “Mateo, if you could do anything right now with no repercussion, what would it be?”
“I’d…” Mateo mumbled, struggling to find his voice.
“No strings attached. Just be honest.” Berns encouraged.
“I'd go home,” Mateo admitted.
“Same.” Bern replied softly. “That desire to go home—hold on to it. Make every choice with the hope of going back home. We’re on a hunt, not just for a monster but for answers. So trust your instincts, fight to live, and remember—without fear, there is no courage. Got it, A squad?”
"Yes, sir!” They responded in unison, their voices filled with renewed determination.
The rest of the ride was steeped in silence, broken only by the occasional check-ins on the status of the humans Lena could still sense near Able’s pass. But the closer they got, the harder it became to maintain her ability. The air was now drenched in the abyss, condensation sticking to their uniform whenever their Kyyr wavered, a suffocating reminder of the alien presence around.
The further they ascended, the more oppressive the atmosphere, weighing heavily on them.
Finally, they arrived at a small camp nestled at the base of a massive rock overlooking the other side of St. Able’s Pass. As the lowglider slowed to a halt, they were met by four rangers clad in the same dark uniforms. Two stood at the camp’s base, their postures tense, while the other two perched high on the rock, their eyes fixed on the ominous rocky field that lay beyond the pass.
They all dismounted, their boots crunching against the rocky ground, and were greeted by salutes from the two rangers at the base. Bern returned the salute, then tapped the side of his helm with a shrug. The rangers nodded in acknowledgement, with one raising three fingers, then two, and finally six with both hands.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Frequency 23 channel 6 for comms,” Bern instructed over the squad channel.
"Copy, sir,” the squad responded as they swiftly added channel 6 to their ez.access feed.
"Carmela, do you copy?” Bern asked over comms.
A woman’s voice came over the channel—shaky and innocent-sounding. “Bern, thank the Symbols you’re here! The situation... It’s deteriorating—rapidly.”
Bern swiftly maneuvered his way up the rock, meeting Carmela and another ranger at the top of the rock they were performing overwatch from. “Has your team figured out anything yet?” his voice laced with urgency.
“Other than the crystalcoms being useless out there, no,” she replied, her gaze fixed on the labyrinth of rock stretching out before them.
“Has Translate 5 reignited?” Bern asked worry in his tone.
“I wish… but to no one’s surprise, it's still shattered.” Carmella replied with a sigh.
“Then where is this abyssal condensation originating from? ” Bern pressed, his tone edged with worry.
“I wish I could tell you,” Carmela sighed. “All we’ve gathered is that this has been brewing since yesterday. Circh Station north of Orneo detected something breaching the atmosphere at 0400. They assumed it was a Rak’da junker, so no alarms were raised. Then, around 1300, some Rak’da activity was detected—a pack of juveniles by Orneo Bay. Which corroborated the initial theory. The juveniles were just fishing, so no action was taken. But here’s where it starts getting weird. Bern, do you remember the Shatter Pond?”
“The pond we used to get readings from?” Bern asked, puzzled. “What does that have to do with this?”
"Well, the thing hasn’t had any activity since it was swallowed by the Primordía Forest, right? But today around 1743 it exploded with Kyyr,” she said, mimicking an explosion with her hands. “We sent a team to check it out, but they found nothing significant—except for a slight rise in condensation. We thought it was negligible at the time,” her voice slowed, a note of concern creeping in. “Then, around 1958, Laurence Russo called the station and reported seeing the same pack of juvenile Rak’da in the area. " She paused taking in a deep audible breath. "We offered to go clear them out, but you know how he is.”
“Right,” Bern grumbled, his face softening under his helmet. “Too damn kind.”
“I assume he must’ve inched his way down Cau Cliff, considering how dangerous the road is for a wheeled vehicle.” Carmela continued, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "Because, of course, he was driving around that thing he built. I even offered to give him a ride, but he’s just so stubborn. I begged him to head back to Orneo for the night, but he said he needed to prepare for something. He didn't specify and—”
Below, Lena listened, her stomach twisting into knots. Damnit Dad! Lucas’s birthday next month, she sighed internally, remembering her dad was tragically bad at remembering dates.
“So he carried on, and at exactly 2045, the forest erupted into the current level of activity. We tried contacting our sister stations but all contact was severed. Then you called about Laurence and... here we are.”
Bern frowned, processing the information before asking, “Was the Rak’da junker ever confirmed, or was it an educated guess from Circh station?”
“Well, funny you mention that,” Carmela replied as she turned to face the cloudy night sky. “The only reason I brought it up was because the northeastern end of the forest was the approximate landing site.”
“But why would Rak’da land there? Was it because of their assumed age?” Bern pressed.
“I don’t know,” she admitted softly, her voice full of regret. “We were negligent.”
Bern took a deep breath, moving onto his next question. “How dramatic was the Kyyr spike this afternoon?”
“Not terribly powerful, just…odd,” Carmela explained. “It might be connected somehow, but I can’t figure out how.”
Bern’s expression grew more serious. “Actually, Xizu called me earlier. She mentioned a boy that claimed he’d woken up in the Primordía Forest.”
“Hmmm, that’s odd, I guess?” Carmela responded, “But what does that have to do with anything?”
“What matters is that Xizu tested him—and it turns out the kids a Coarseblood.” Bern said, his tone firm.
Lena’s eye widened as she remembered the strange boy she’d met earlier.
Carmela shook her head. “But they’re—”
“Extinct,” he interjected. “Or so we thought. Do you remember the stories of the Lingering Tunes?”
“Bern… Not this again! At a time like this? You can’t be serious,” she scolded in disbelief.
“I know, I know,” Bern admitted, a touch of embarrassment creeping into his voice. “Anyways, just keep that in mind in case things go south. We can discuss the source of the anomaly after we secure Laurence Russo and confirm the status of Circh Station.”
“Right.” She said while holding both hands; she nodded.
“So what’s your team’s status so far?” He asked, his tone less casual.
“We’ve established a perimeter with motion sensors covering a 50-meter radius around this point.” Carmela explained, pointing at the rock they were on. “No motion detected outside your squad's arrival, but with the abyssal condensation, we’re not sure if there's any abyssal corrosion affecting the sensors. What’s been really worrying me was the team we sent out to scout. It was a small splinter cell of 3 rangers—ex-ORPA Blue Tripoli, ex-ORPA Blue Athena, and most importantly, ex-ORPA Cerulean Geneva. They’re all seasoned in dealing with abyssal leaks, but I’ve got this sick feeling, Bern.”
“Geneva’s sharp—she's been to the lower planuras—so I wouldn’t worry too much.” He reassured Carmela.
“I know my sister was a big deal back then, but with the low Kyyr—it’s just...” she held herself. “I’ll trust your judgment, Bern.” She said with a sigh.
“Well, I also brought someone who can help us navigate the night more easily,” Bern said confidently. “Thanks to Lena’s ability, we can set up a comms beacon to connect your group here with our squad heading to Trant.”
“You brought her?”
“Well, it’s not beca—”
Carmela cut him off with a sigh. “You know that’s the problem, Bern. Every time people are personally involved, they end up a liability.”
“I know, but do you remember her ability?”
Carmela’s demeanor changed as the realization hit her. “Right, the Russo girl can set Kyyr checkpoints,” she recalled, a wave of relief washing over her. “ I thought you brought her out of sentimentality.”
“You know I’m not as stupid as I used to be and—”
Carmela ignored his remark, turning to face downhill, “What’s your limit, Russo?”
“Oh, umm, normally I can produce around fourteen beacons, but given the distance and current conditions, I can only muster around five at most. My Kyyr awareness decreases in congruence to how many beacons are active, distance, and my stamina. So, the more beacons I activate, the more of a liability I become.” She raised three fingers. “Three is my limit. Anymore, and it’ll be a hassle.” Lena explained, glancing up at the figures, unsure as to which was Carmela.
“Works with me.” Carmela replied, her demeanor brightening up.
Lena had focused intently, drawing on her Kyyr despite the oppressive chill that beat violently into her bones. The atmosphere felt heavy, the condensation clinging to her uniform as she concentrated. Slowly, she synthesized a small prysmatic pole, its soft white glow cutting through the gloom. Exhausted, she handed the device to one of the rangers. “To use the device,” she paused, taking a deep breath as the exhaustion gnawed at her. "You just have to pulse your kyyr lightly while maintaining contact. You’ll be able to communicate telepathically with anyone else in contact with another one of these rods.” She explained, sitting down, more drained than she had expected. She winced, knowing she had to make another. I should’ve made all three at the station. She whined to herself.
“Thank you, Miss Russo!” One of the rangers said as he began trying to connect with the other beacon.
Bern gestured Lena over, “Hey... I hate to do this now, but considering your ability, it would make more sense for you to remain here.” his voice unwavering.
“I know," she replied blankly. "This is the best point for me to broadcast with my beacon, right? That’s why you let me come this far.”
“He raised you well. I didn't want Lauren to terrorize me for not being logical.” Bern said with a faint laugh.
“We’ll keep you posted, chief,” Lena said with a hidden smile. “Here you go.” She handed over one of her beacons.
He gave her a nod before addressing the remaining member of A squad. “Alright, squad, let’s get ready to move in. Remain on frequency 23, we’re switching to channel 5.” Bern ordered, his voice commanding and resolute. "Gaolbird, what’s your status?” he asked.
“Control protocols are in effect, good sir. Would you like me to assist on the expedition or remain here?” Gaolbird politely responded.
“Switch to Bandersnatch protocols and stalk set 50 meters back.” Bern ordered
“Yes sir~!” It replied happily.
“Jett, where’s our estimated objective?” Bern’s asked, turning to the smallest member of the team, whose uniform was bulky and laden with all sorts of gadgets.
“Oh umm,” Jeyy began, pulling out a small screened device. “According to Lena, her father was descending from the northeastern Cau Cliff road, from St. Able’s Pass. It’s a 2-minute ride via lowglider, but with the low visibility and the abrupt flares of light, going by foot is our safest option. The estimated route to the area surrounding the top of Cau Cliff Road is about a 35 to 45 minute hike.”
“Alright A squad, we’re sticking to a wedge formation fanning out on my flanks.” Bern commanded.
"Yes, sir!” they said in unison.
The walk across the pass was unnervingly calm, a disquieting sense of wrongness permeating the air as the condensation violently surged around them. The droplets of abyssal condensation moved in chaotic directions, defying gravity and logic as they swirled unpredictably. The flashes of light from below only served to highlight their strange misdirection, the droplets blending in and out of existence, twisting and melting into the landscape. The very ground seemed violated by the strange essence, as if reality itself were being warped, save for the rangers and their protective Kyyr.
As they reached the other end of the pass, the condensation gradually subsided, but the landscape remained alien. Occasional flashes of an unnatural pink hue illuminated the land, casting shadows that were darker than dark, sharp and menacing. A squad fanned out into a wedge formation, with Bern taking the lead, his eyes scanning the motion sensor every few meters. But there was nothing—just a barren, eerily quiet expanse, the silence broken only by the unnerving howl of wind against rock.
“Operation: NightReach is a go." Bern broadcast to his squad, his voice steady and resolute.