Gira watched Krreat disappear into the horizon as his expression dropped into a distant half-twist emotion that lay somewhere between a man wishing his wife farewell as he headed to war and some hopeless romantic that was being torn apart from his beloved. Which I guess aren’t too far apart in nature, but there was this annoying undertone to it all as he waved away at a bunch of indifferent towers.

With a sigh, he slumped into his seat, looking a little lost. “So!” he broke the silence. “Why were we running away?”

The other ranger present all looked away with guilty expressions masked behind their helmets—except for Morray, who had a half-smile plastered on his face.

“Well… believe it or not, but wrecking a ranger facility and almost killing multiple people is pretty hard to excuse. Morray admitted. “And when I proposed training you… let’s just say it sparked quite the fun discussion.” Morray explained, still avoiding eye contact.

“Right… I get that,” Gira said, leaning back. “But why was Xizu so mad?”

“Ehh—well, since she’s technically your adoptive parent, we’re kind of kidnapping you…” Morray mumbled.

“But I thought I was legally an adult?”

“Well, technically, but you’re a bit of a special case. Considering we don’t actually know your real age and considering how you behave and the fact you can’t control your abilities…” Morray’s words trailed off.

“Hmm. Well. This sucks.” Gira stated flatly as they cruised over the flowery fields of Krreat. “But why was Xizu so mad? I don’t think taking me would make her that mad.”

Morray blew a slow breath through his mouth, his gaze drifting even further away. “Yeah… well, you’re not the first kid I’ve taken off her hands. This is kind of a sore spot for my little sis…”

“Little sis?!”Gira’s head snapped toward him. “Huh… now that I think about it, you’re both freakishly tall.”

“She’s my sister too!” Serfet jumped in eager to join the conversation.

Gira turned to him with a skeptical look. “Then why are you Gira-sized like me?” he said pointing at himself.

Serfet’s excitement was curb-stomped. “ Excuse me, I’m what sized?”

Everyone aboard the glider processed the odd statement, Gira-sized? A moron’s measuring unit was hence born.

Morray sighed, shaking his head. “Serfet’s just younger than us. We’re Vilebloods so we tend to grow proportionally larger than normal humans, but, not by much.”

Gira squinted at Serfet, taking a moment to study the Gira-sized Serfet. “Hmm. So how old are you all?”

Serfet answered first while his older brother counted the years in his head, “I’m turning 23 this year.”

Morray finished counting the years. “I think I turned 248 this year,” he said nonchalantly.

SO OLD! Gira thought to himself, though time beyond a few hours was still a vague concept to him. “What about Xizu?”

Morray immediately looked away, holding up a hand. “I’m forbidden from sharing such information…”

“Why?”

Morray leaned on the rim of the lowglider, gazing wistfully at the flowering fields. “There is beauty in life, kid. To nurture it, you must tread its waters with reverence—as beneath the surface lie mysteries that are not meant to be known,” he said, trying to sound cool as he dramatically looked into the cloudy skies beyond.

Gira blinked, tilting his head. “What the heck’s that gotta do with Xizu’s age?”

“Uh—” Morray staggered in his throat.

Before the moment could drag on, the ranger sitting next to Gira suddenly spoke, removing her helmet in one smooth motion. A cascade of long blonde hair spilled free, settling into a neat low ponytail, streaked with vibrant blue highlights that shimmered as she turned to face him. Her dark blue eyes, flecked with gold, locked onto his.

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“Why do you ask?” she asked, her voice smooth yet carrying a quiet authority. “Would knowing her age change how you treat her? Would it really entertain you to know?”

She studied him patiently, offering a warm, motherly smile as he considered her words.

“Ahhh….” Gira thought for a second, I guess I don’t actually care. “I was just curious, but I guess it doesn’t really matter,” he said, waving the thought away.

Before returning the stare and studying the rather refined-looking woman that sat next to him, “My name is Gira!” he suddenly introduced himself, “What’s yours?” he asked.

The female ranger’s smile didn’t waver. “My name is Atheiya. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mister Coarseblood.” she said, her voice carrying a graceful maturity.

Gira smiled back, before acknowledging the other rangers. “By the by, are those two guys over there okay?” he asked, pointing at Romm, who was slumped over in his seat, completely passed out. Meanwhile, the smaller ranger had somehow toppled onto his massive pack and now lay sprawled upside down in the middle of the aisle like a helpless beetle, unmoving.

Morray poked the smaller ranger in the leg, but there was no response. “I guess they passed out.”

The notion of sleep suddenly struck Gira as he yawned, stretching his arms before he slouched in his seat. “Hmmm…so—how far away is this Ordovis Coast?”

Mera chimed in from the upper controls on the upper deck. “Wa-wa-wa, ONE! Hour and twenty-seven minutes to go!” she called out, barely managing to get the words out before refocusing on the road ahead.

Gira yawned, “Ugh, that’s so long…” he mumbled, shifting to lean on the rim of the lowglider. His gray-black eyes watching sunlight slowly break through the thinning cover of clouds above.

“We’ll be making a pit stop at the new St. Able’s ranger station for a bathroom break in about ten minutes,” Morray cut in, shattering the peaceful moment. “So you can pass out after that. I don’t want you staining my seats.”

“Ha? Me staining what?” Gira snapped, turning to face Morray. “You big old punk, I’ll have you know I am very aware of how restrooms work.”

“Really?” Morray asked with a smirk, “Have you ever used one?”

Gira’s eyes widened as he thought back. OH!?Oh...oh.

EMERGENCY! Gira called out into his head.

“Huh? What? We’re in the middle of something.” Savagrios answered a little agitated.

Guys! Have I ever used the bathroom? Gira asked in his mind.

“Probably why?” Savagrios asked.

We’re making a thing called a ‘pit stop,’ and I must use the restroom at this place.

K chimed in, “Worry not, dear me, we can teach you the ways of the bathroom! Rather, I find it miraculous we haven’t had to use such a facility.”

“That’s thanks to us, actually.” Savagrios announced proudly. “All the nutrients we’ve consumed have gone to our transformation bank.”

Wait… Am I made out of piss?

“NO!” Savagrios practically roared. “Our biology is different! Waste from our cellular processes have been gracefully discarded by us through the means of calamity constructs—such as our tendrils or any other tools we generate using our blood. We simply add the waste and no one notices.” Savagrios explained with an annoying tone.

Outside of his mindscape, Gira’s jaw dropped a little.

WE MAKE WEAPONS OUT OF PISS?

“No—well, we release waste that way so it’s whatever. It’s not like anyone will ever know but us.” Savagrios said with a smug tone.

K, inside their mindscape, dropped the cards he was using for their card game. “That’s nasty…” he muttered in disbelief.

Savagrios looked between the void and K with a confused, almost offended look. “We did it for convenience's sake!”

Savagrios. Just let me pee like normal, okay? Gira muttered as he looked down at the lowglider’s floor in despair.

“Are you okay, kid?” Morray asked. “I was half-kidding do you really not know how to—”

Gira abruptly raised his hand, palm outstretched, cutting him off. “I know how…” His voice steady, as his gaze drifted into the distance, unfocused. “You see, there is beauty in life, mister . To nurture it, you must tread its waters with reverence—”

Morray looked at him confused. “What did your insane asylum buddies tell you?” he interrupted.

Gira ignored him, continuing, “As beneath the surface lie mysteries that are not meant to be known,” he said, copying Morray’s tone as he looked into the beautiful fields of flowers beyond.

The rest of the ride was filled with Morray’s incessant curiosity about what Gira had learned, forcing him to awkwardly explain his mind roommate situation to rather confused Serfet and Atheiya, who listened in bewilderment. Conversation drifted between questions and half-answers until they passed a familiar structure—an ivory and bronze tower that seemed to stretch ever skyward, untouched by time.

Gira suddenly leapt across the aisle, shoving past Morray as he pressed up against the rim of the lowglider, staring at the Vivant Tower. The sea breeze hit him fresh, cool, carrying a scent that stirred something distant in his mind.

“I remember this place,” he murmured, his eyes locked onto the towering structure.

Morray leaned back, glancing at the tower. “Old E-21, huh?”

“E-21?” Gira repeated, watching as they flew past.

“Esoteric Structure Number 21. That’s the designation of the Vivant Tower. It’s a relic at this point, thousands of years old…” Morray said as the lowglider crested a hill, the tower vanishing behind them.

Gira’s gaze lingered, watching the tower fade away as they came up on another familiar place.

“ Is that?”

“What remains of Trant,” Morray confirmed as the lowglider veered away, rising in altitude toward the Cau Mountain Range.

Gira looked back at the distant abandoned building, a dreaded sensation churning within as the sudden memory of the flesh between his teeth poured into him.

The stench—rancid, bitter, clinging to his senses like a stain. And then, the worst part—the undeniable bliss.

He went back to his seat in silence as he put his hand over his mouth.

What is this feeling? He wondered as the lowglider climbed up the mountain range and towards the new St. Able’s Station.