Otis had gone ahead, taking an easy route north and simply following the river as a guide. Caro would presumably be on her own two feet by the time they gathered at the second bridge. The plan was to roll out in groups of pairs, first Caro and Otis—for obvious reasons—then the backline shortly after they helped weaken the wave, and finally her and Nightingale.

Well… To be completely accurate, her, Nightingale and the luminescent familiar following its own tail round in circles in front of her. It—he, Val corrected privately, remembering Otis’ words—had an ivory coat of trimmed fur and eyes that were a solid, full gold. Studded, off-white crystals adorned the curve of his brow, winding down along his spine. With his size, he looked to be either a weirdly matured cat or a sleek lion cub—she couldn’t tell just yet.

He was undeniably cute and more importantly crucial, primarily because he’d be Otis’ replacement. Five pentagonal barriers, each no bigger than a twin-sized bed, hovered several meters ahead of Val, ready to snap to attention the moment the familiar willed them to.

His existence, quite unprecedentedly, solved one of the many questions swarming in her mind. Otis’ shields whizzed around like they were an extension of himself, with a control that reminded her of a Striker more than a Bulwark. Jesal, on the other hand, pondered how the six-feet Desni held the wherewithal to understand the intricacies of familiars.

The two mysteries—unknowingly connected—traced back to the little guy inches away, too busy enjoying the fresh air to notice her reverie. Otis must’ve sought internal help from his familiar, multiple times by her count. Once again, the details of how such a thing worked were beyond her knowledge, but she hadn’t the time to dwell on it any longer.

“They’re here,” Lenson announced from behind. Val turned to acknowledge her with a sharp nod, her gaze briefly flickering upwards. More than twenty ice longswords spun idly above the Support’s head, vibrating, thrumming.

Lenson’s heels nearly grazed the remnants of Garrison’s Hold; Val had implored earlier that her and Jesal should stay as far away from the trees as humanly possible. The terrain bore no hidden advantages—there was the forest with a narrow trail woven into it, a few hundred meters of muddy grass, and then the river at their backs.

Even with a highly-intelligent familiar present, their defensive measures remained severely lacking in such an open field. Plus, none of them could carry another wounded person to their escape route while surviving the onslaught of several aether creatures.

Speaking of them… Val swallowed the last traces of apprehension and steeled herself, casting a glance to the side. An arm’s length away, Nightingale dipped his head solemnly and pointed to his ear. Understanding, she searched her coat's insides until she found the earplugs he’d given her beforehand. She stuffed one in, and then the other. “What do these—”

In the half the span of a second, all she could hear were her thoughts. The harsh winds, the fast-moving rapids, her cloak shifting about—none of it made it through. She whistled regardless of whether or not she’d hear it—she didn’t, by the way—her lips fighting off a smile. Hardcore. Now, what were they for?

Sighting the first of the beast wave scampering past the thick undergrowth, she figured she’d be answered shortly. The fastest of them, wind-based bobcats from the looks of their blinding speed, raced across the flat stretch of land between the forest and river. There wasn’t a whole lot of ground to cover, and at this rate, they’d be within range before the entire horde could be accounted for.

Val snatched all ten oblong metal pieces off her person and tossed them two by two. She realized more and more aether creatures breached the vicinity each moment—lightning elementals, other wind-based chimeras and, if you could believe, water squirrels—but her priority remained the same: make sure they weren’t ripped to shreds by the initial surge. “Shard Bomb.”

As urged, the grenades exploded midair in a violent spray of shrapnel. The pieces penetrated the bobcats’ silvery pelt, some caused deep gouges, most were superficial cuts. She hardly appreciated the damage the spell enacted because, truthfully, it did little to slow them down. However, it did serve her next purpose well.

“Metal Puppeteer.”

The metal pieces bent to her desires and she willed them towards the forest, including the parts embedded within flesh. The bobcats hissed and barked their insistence, yet the shards only dug deeper into their skin, fighting against their movement. Val hoisted her arms as a show of her own resistance, teeth gritted as she felt the beasts tug ahead. They would break through her measures very soon, and she took a knee to convey as much.

Nightingale planted a gloved hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Hold on a little longer, he tried to express, and she surveyed the battlefield to comprehend why. For an instant, her brain froze at the sheer quantity of things rushing toward them, none as fast as the bobcats, and yet certainly making their way over. The last of the wave's numbers filtered in, and the Hunter’s reassuring presence left her shoulder.

He lips mouthed a spell she couldn’t make out. The next words, though, she heard as clear as day.

“Be gone.”

It might’ve been stated with no more force than sidecomment, and yet inversely, the utter loudness behind the single word pierced through the high-end earplugs. Absent of even a semblance of protection, the creatures in the vicinity recoiled a few steps back, and for a fraction of them, a dribble of blood dripped out their ear cavities.

Nightingale always worked to dampen sound, as it was valuable to a lurking Hunter. This time, though, he chose to increase it exponentially, and his actions debilitated the enemy for a long beat. Lenson snatched the opportunity with two metaphorical hands, sending forth her army of longswords that Jesal, undoubtedly, amplified.

Just like that, half of the wave was disposed of, specifically the bobcat and elemental population. Loosening her hold on Metal Puppeteer, Val allowed a small smirk to grace her face. The Support single handedly took out the troublesome camps inside their opposition’s ranks. She whole-heartedly thanked Lenson for it internally, even as she turned to depart alongside Jesal.

Nightingale plunged into the twenty-something beasts and chimeras left without remorse. He came across as a wraith—where he passed, death soon followed. Shadows materialized from the beneath, holding his targets still. Aether creatures crumpled to the ground, as his daggers rose and fell. If they closed in on him, he’d bark a word, and they’d falter against the sound, helpless as he began his carnage anew.

Albeit impressive, Val wasn’t idle in the meantime. As the mage with more range in her arsenal, she played the long game. She used Metal Spike to skewer a beast near to the forest's edge and Metal Spike Quartet to do away with the pesky squirrels running along. Even still, two badgers managed to sneak through the chaos, skittering across the field in her direction.

The creatures swiveled their bodies around in unison, and their flourished tails slammed down. The grey elemental traces gathering on badgers’ body told Val a spell was coming, even if she couldn’t see it physically. Otis’ familiar bristled, and a pair of shields flew over to cover her forefront. The two elemental forces met, and the jade barriers snapped against the force of the two-starred badgers.

While the wind attacks were dealt harmlessly, it was more than enough to ensure that it was indeed time to go. Nightingale appeared to sense it as well, seeing as he stopped wreaking havoc for the slightest bit to glance her way. Val signalled retreat—a jerk of the head bearing north did the trick—and he successfully disengaged himself by casting another round of Dim Feet.

She scooped the young familiar into her arms, ignoring how dang soft it felt in her hands, and bolted for the rendezvous point. Before long, she caught sight of Nightingale's grey, cloth-based armour in her peripheral view, and gestured to her ears. Can I take these off?

When he bobbed his head, Val promptly yanked the earplugs out. She flinched at the sudden influx of noise, but managed to put it behind her in a swift manner. “How’d you manage that many spells without running out of energy?”

“I’m a Nightingale,” he replied, as if his name provided the total and whole answer. “Can you move at a faster speed? We need to put—” he paused as another assault of wind blades, courtesy of the badgers, clashed against the jade shield now guarding their backs “—as much distance between them as we can before we reach the bridge. We may be able to avoid a second fight altogether.”

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Val cranked her energy enhancement to the highest degree possible. “I’ll follow your pace.”

Without wasting a second, his upper body banked forward and he leaned into a sprint. He cut a straight line parallel to the river on the right, his shape blurring. Val followed suit, engaging in the occasional look over the shoulder. Each instance, the beasts in pursuit appeared smaller, farther away. Good. They only had so many shields to spare.

Less than a minute of speeding down the river’s bank—she glanced at the clock in her HUD to make sure—Val beheld four figures. Rather soon, she determined it safe enough to cut the aether stream to her lower legs and settled to jog up to her teammates.

They each wore some variation of a smile at their arrival, which made sense in hindsight. She would too had the situations been flipped, waiting for what must’ve seemed like forever to find out if her teammates survived the difficult endevour. Val mirrored their expression, especially when she noticed the full colour in Caro’s face, and her healthy physique.

The second bridge, monikered Woodman’s Travesty—who named these things?—according to the mini-map in the corner of her vision, was a peculiar structure. It held the bridge frame, in essence, yet it did so using an interlocking, triangular pattern containing logs. Only two people could cross shoulder-to shoulder at most, and as Val approached, she noted that it visibly shook.

With a grateful smile on his lips, Otis stepped forward to take the familiar out of her overprotective grasp. She restrained her reluctance and handed him over, quickly reminding herself that she was in a rupturing rift. He blinked, and her furry companion vanished, a few wisps the sole sign of his time in the material world.

“Huh…” Jesal titled his head to peer past her. “I don’t see any aether creatures behind you.”

“We outran them,” Nightingale answered, throwing three capsules into his mouth and forcing it down dry. “And I plan to continue doing so. Can we get moving?”

Caro crossed her arms. “What about the wave?”

“Forget about it,” he snapped. “At large, there is a rift rupture and we stand to suffer far worse than just a wave if we don’t leave Storm’s Keep post haste. Let’s. Go.”

As much as it evidently grated on Caro’s nerves, she sighed and ceded the victory. “After you, oh wise and venerable Gale.”

Sarcasm or no, they trailed after his steps and paced across the bridge at a light jog. With the help of Nightingale’s scouting skills and Lenson’s periodic counseling, Hammer Squad veered clear of most confrontation from then onwards. Val deemed it a rather… anticlimactic end to such a hectic morning. Even so, she exhaled the moment she crossed the separator veil some few hours into the afternoon. Death by the claws of several aether creatures, avoided.

She let the day's tenseness filter out with the expunged air and gathered her wits about her, perusing the new environment. In a matter of forty-eight hours, the CAU roved the trees down to make a broad, dusty road out the veil and toward, presumably, civilization. The area teemmed with CAU associates, apparent by the crimson-coloured suits and the golden cloud emblazoned on their cuffs. The sight reassured her as much as it scratched at her unconscious bias, but she stifled the thought before it dredged up unpleasant memories.

Jesal mumbled something about contacting his driver to “get them away from Storm’s Keep pronto,” and steered them forward. Val let the rest of the group pull ahead, not surprised someone else retained a similar plan.

She craned her head upwards to find Caro alreadying peering at her. Val silently felt her out, wondering how to broker an apology, or even a way to convey the shrinking panic borrowing its way around her stomach at the mere thought of losing her best friend.

“Oh to hell with it.” Caro crossed the space and enveloped her in a tight hug—Val winced—for some time before pulling back to earnestly study her face. “No more beef between us, got it?”

“Sounds more like you’re threatening me—” Caro’s lips hinted at a growing scowl “—but yeah,” Val chuckled softly. “Agreed. No more tiptoeing around each other.”

Caro's mouth quirked up into a teasing grin and then, quite oddly, settled into its former scowl with a new intensity as her attention veered above her head. “Ugh. I could go a day with seeing her again.”

Val turned to discover that Hammer Squad barely took ten steps down the dirt road, barred by a wall of adventurers ranging from aging-out teens to new adults. Admittedly, they blocked very little of the broad pathway, and her teammates could’ve easily sidestep the new squad if not for their telltale orange and white gear. Horizon’s Silence.

She and Caro shared equally intrigued and worried looks and drew closer to the brewing storm. Among the seven Horizon’s Silence members, Mike stood to the side, a broad distance between him and Leah. He had a hard time looking at any members of Hammer Squad while Leah, conversely, glared unabashedly, arms crossed.

By the looks of it—stocky build, confident stance—a Bulwark took the lead, scratching at his yellow-orange eyebrows. “Well, this is a little awkward.”

“Get on with it, will you?” Caro said, tugging at her armour straps and making micro adjustments to her cloak. “Some of us want to go home.”

Leah’s nose flared as her arms fell to the sides. She fisted her hands, her almond-brown eyes warming up to a radiant blue. Val’s stomach clenched, the recent memory of the fight engraved into her body. The urge—the desire really—to return even a fragment of the humiliation she’d suffer was something she felt heavily in her gut. Val acknowledged—and welcomed—the small change. A year ago, she would’ve pacified her feelings and simply let matters be.

In spite of that growth, an embedded fear roared in her ears and drowned what little defiance she carried. She was fine and dandy to fight Leah before knowing of her prowess, yet she stood unsure on whether she’d do again fully understanding the girl’s capabilities. Add in the emotional investment, and it wasn’t even a debate. She wouldn’t.

Saints. Val grimaced, backing away in the physical sense as if the action could make the revelation less appalling. I am a coward.

A supportive arm wrapped around her shoulders, shaking her out of thoughts. She gazed at Caro, belatedly taking in that she and everyone involved perceived her action as fright. In a way, they weren’t that far off.

What she did not expect, however, was her teammates to act on it. All five of them took a unified step forward, ringed irises ablaze on faces so stoney—murderous, even—that she felt the brief and strong urge to hold them back.

Leah scoffed. “You think I’m scared of—”

“Please, Leah.” The Bulwark sent her a sharp glance, buffering the rising tension. The water mage’s shoulders dropped and she looked away. He let loose a relieved sigh before continuing on. “Look. We’re here because Mike wanted to check up on his friends.”

Val’s gaze found the Erydian’s eyes, and she dipped her head in thanks. He offered a pained smile. “Let me know when you two are safely at home.”

“Will do,” Caro returned his expression ruefully, and moved to walk past the Horizon’s Silence crew without further ado, patting his shoulder in passing. No one had it in them to drag it out for longer than necessary, and that sentiment thankfully included both parties.

Hammer Squad shuffled their feet down the road nonetheless, occupying themself with one thing or the other. Nightingale pulled random tonics out of his cloak, probably cataloging his alchemic arsenal, Jesal shoved his glasses into his tangled hair to massage his nose, and Otis mysteriously seemed to focus his concentration… inwards, if that made any kind of sense.

She cleared her throat, waiting until she held a modicum of their attention. “Thanks, guys.”

“For?” Caro asked, retying her crimson curls into a messy bun above.

“Backing me up.”

“We should’ve done it earlier,” Jesal kicked a random stone out of his way. “Something smelt fishy from the start, and we decided to let it play out anyways.”

Val shrugged. “I appreciate it all the same.”

“And I have a question.”

The five Novices hid none of their surprise as they whipped their heads to the petite Support who had, if she’d heard right, a question.

An almost-silent huff left Lenson in exasperation, no doubt due to their reaction. “Was Versetti always so, for a lack of a better word, annoying?”

The Strikers answered immediately.

“Yes.”

“No—” Caro raised an eyebrow as if to say, be honest now, and Val relented “—alright, maybe a little.”

That elicited a chuckle from the entire squad, and it became a segue into a lighter conversation. While she tried to add her two cents from time to time, Val’s main focus remained on putting one foot after the other.

Regardless of everything, a brutal Elemental Exchange, a rift rupture, and uncovered secrets included, Val was grateful to be finally headed back to the First Halo. A sudden fierce need to hug her brothers aside, the day—and yesterday, might she had—tired her out to new levels, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep in her own bed.