It has been an incredibly long time since I was last here. My memories of the Other Side are clouded with fear and uncertainty. Back then, I may not have been the predator I am now, but I’m sure I wasn’t weak nor vulnerable.

What I do remember is the constant quakes, earth that never settles, and the sheer lack of life.

In a way, it’s no different than the sudden, recent grinding earth around the shifting amber barrier. Only, it has been experiencing constant devastation for as long as I can remember.

Is this the future of my warped tunnels? To become an extension of the Other Side? Is that what the Beyond meant by its collapse?

Around us, the earth churns, but the amber barrier is nowhere to be seen. Sections of ranked stone frame the only areas that appear to have any structure, but the rest flow down in waterfalls of gravel and stone.

A massive expanse sits before us, only broken up by the flowing seas of mud, dirt and debris. If not for the vast falls splitting sections from one another, it would likely be comparable to the large open caverns without spatial distortions.

Despite the constantly changing landscape, it’s the sound that leaves no doubt in my mind of where the rend landed us. The shrieking roar of unimaginable quantities of grinding rock reveals nothing less than the unquenchable fury of the Other Side. It wants nothing to live here, so nothing does.

Oddly enough, the stable distortions through the air make the Other Side so much more survivable despite the obviously deadly conditions. The collapse of the rend from the amber barrier undermined the integrity of the nearby bends, but beyond them, things remain natural. A relief when coming from that disaster.

Never would I have thought the Other Side would become a safe haven.

Scia squeaks, barely audible over the rumbling earth. Her tone sounding relieved, but still wary. I note, with some surprise, that it is becoming easier to discern her thoughts through her little chirps. It is interesting, but hardly something to focus on right now.

I slither away from a moving waterfall of boulders. Absolutely nothing looks stable here. While there are some islands of ranked stone floating amongst the churning earth, they are regularly swallowed by the walls, ceiling or ground they peek from.

Thankfully, as long as I keep my wits about me, we’re unlikely to be caught off guard by the constantly collapsing, shifting and flowing landscape. The bends should save us from the worst, but just to be sure, I’ll do my best to steer clear of anything that might crush or swallow or grind us into paste.

So I’ll avoid anything that isn’t empty air.

What now?

I know from my ancient fractured memories that there’s no way back besides the way you came; I can see that now, with every rift in sight leading only within the bounds of the Other Side. However insanely distant the rend that connected the warped tunnels to here, their type are rare. So rare, that I find only a couple each hundred hunts. Ones I never enter in fear of them closing behind me and giving me no way back.

A scenario I now find myself in.

We are not in immediate danger, but what are we to do? I’ll need rest eventually, and even my favourite spatial loops aren’t immune to the constant morphing landscape. As I watch, one of those very loops gets swallowed within a wall as it edges toward the other side of the immediate cavern. The stone flows through the loop immediately, crushing the imaginary figure of a resting snake.

Usually, I’d not believe I could be crushed by such rock, but there is just something about the power of the quakes here that makes me reconsider. The ever crumbling earth can only hide impossible dangers.

I have no present need for rest, but I cannot hold it off indefinitely. Before that happens, we need to find a way back.

A way back… to where exactly? As warned by the Beyond, are the tunnels collapsing? Is there anything left of the caverns between the borders? I’m still not certain if the damage is limited to the space directly nearest the amber barrier, or if it spread further. Some of the bends that collapsed before I could pass through showed relatively stable grounds. But just as many showed the disaster spread to the other borders.

If it continued, there most certainly wouldn’t be any warped tunnels to return to. At least, not a place that is distinguishable from the lands I now find myself.

But we are alive, and that will just have to satisfy us for now. Who knows? I might find the path I’ve been looking for here of all places. It seems incredibly unlikely, but there’s no reason to lose all hope.

I slither forward, intent to search our immediate surroundings for any paths of note, but am forced to whip myself backwards before even making it a body-length.

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From the churning earth below, rises a massive shard reaching from one wall to the other. Texture like stone, but smoother and unblemished. Two long edges taper to a sharp point that pierces the ceiling before slowly spinning up through the suspended gravel.

The shard twirls almost lazily as it defies gravity despite its enormous size, floating through earth as if it were water.

Finally, the end of the shard pulls from the ground, leaving it to hang from the ceiling and walls, but it continues to climb. The part now free is not like the rest of the shard. The sharp, smooth edge widens into a porous curving region, which is soon all I can see.

Before it’s completely gone, an outcropping of ranked stone that had been floating along the wall of gravel crashes into it. The writhing earth throwing the mass heavier than my full weight into this invading shard.

The ranked stone shatters, leaving the porous shard unmarred.

Not even a scratch remains to tell of its heavy impact against the stronger rock. Nothing should be able to take an impact like that; not without some damage. It’s ranked stone. Not even my fully revealed scales can stay scratchless from contact.

No… I’m thinking too small again. The Titan wouldn’t have been marred by something like ranked stone. And if Titans exist, then could that mean there is a rock of equivalent strength? I’ve not seen it before, but this is the Other Side. There is a lot here I’ve not seen before.

With the shard gone, I start forward again, careful to watch every writhing surface for what might lie within.

Like with the Magma Ocean, the fluid rock remains suspended above solely because of the distortions. The twisting space directs gravity and the rock itself back upward holding the flowing earth up with the strength of its own weight. Such reflective bends don’t make a perfect barrier — what with the random nature of their existence — so the crumbling falls of ground-up rock are frequent.

Scia’s ears twist every which way, following the origins of each quake that thrums through the air, but never long enough to indicate any particular focus. She instinctively reacts to the sounds, though never having the time to listen to any one in detail.

She holds herself close to my head, nestled between my eyes as hers flicker around. I doubt she’ll be able to see anything she can’t hear… though maybe the intense grinding sound from every direction interferes with her hearing-sight.

I look at her through a bend more closely. She does appear stressed, but I’d assumed it was just because of the nightmare we’ve found ourselves. If, instead, it’s because she feels blind on top of the danger of our surroundings…

I hiss. A long, drawn-out noise that drowns out the sound of the earth around us. My chest thrums, and the vibrations flow through Scia’s smaller form.

She squeaks in surprise at first, but soon relaxes into the feeling.

I intended to distract her, not for her to enjoy it. But she does enjoy it, and now I’m stuck hissing to keep her satisfied. I dim the echo of my hiss, but keep my chest rumbling, which she enjoys if the way she melts over my back is any indication.

No longer concerned about the outside world, Scia begins to hum. It’s hardly audible over the growl of the earth, but close as I am, I can hear her clear. She sings that same melody as she learned from the abyss. The tune is not unpleasant, but I almost have her stop again. Only her blissful, unconcerned expression stops me.

Beyond must have a reason to stop Scia from humming that melody. I really should have her stop… but if it is really so horrible, the Beyond will show itself.

The words of that existence annoy me the more I think about it. No, it’s not only the words themselves, but the refusal of the Beyond to be cooperative. First, it gives nothing but simplistic answers for so long when it had full awareness all along. Then, when it finally reveals itself, it gives unimpressive answers and disappears. Why? Why does it refuse to appear?

If it really hates Scia’s humming, it will show itself and I’ll get my questions answered. Otherwise… I might as well enjoy a pleasant song rather than the grating sound of rolling earthquakes.

Swimming through the air, I thread through a hole that takes me beyond a thin mud-fall splitting the cavern. It hits me as I watch a boulder of ranked stone fall from the ceiling and crash into a muddy section of churning earth that this is the Other Side, and I’m feeling more relaxed than I have in a while.

Is it Scia’s calmness washing over on me? Her song? Or is it simply the relief of no longer being in immediate danger? I doubt it’s the latter; the world around me still threatening. A single lapse in judgement could throw us into the earth and be our end.

Is it her song then? Sure, it’s pleasant, but I don’t think a pleasant tune is enough to throw me into this feeling of contentedness. When I look down at Scia again, I understand. The unwavering trust she has in me — enough that despite our surroundings, she can relax so wholly — fills my chest with… pride.

A sort of pride completely separate from the confidence in my strength or the pride to foolishly stand up against a Titan. The fact that another creature knows I’ll do anything to keep it safe should be infuriating… but it isn’t. It makes me feel inexplicably fulfilled. Happy.

I continue thrumming my hiss through Scia’s little body as I search for any path forward.

After passing the tenth curtain of falling rock, it becomes clear the Beyond truly isn’t coming back. Scia has been humming that tune of hers non-stop and it hasn’t come back to demand we stop.

Nor has anything disastrous happened. The longer she sings, the more I have to wonder exactly what the Beyond was worried about.

Soon enough, we come across something different. I’m not so sure it’s a path anywhere, but it’s certainly not something I’ve seen before.

A section of space is missing all distortions. A thick wall completely devoid of bends, holes or rifts. Even stranger, there isn’t a single distortion that leads to the other side. It’s as if any that bent space between the region simply collapsed.

Curious as to why the space isn’t already filled with rock flowing in from above without the distortions to stop it, I slither closer. What I discover, is that there is no rock along that wall of orderly air. The churning earth simply splits from one side to the other. No matter how close I get, I cannot see where the sides meet.

Something besides spatial bends holds all that rock from flowing into the voided area, but I haven’t a clue what it could be. It still flows almost like a liquid, except it simply never falls.

I don’t know what causes this strange effect, but the stabilised island of ranked stone on the other side definitely attracts my attention. None of the other large masses have remained that motionless. However the crevasse does that, I don’t know, but I am going to reach that island.

The only question is how?