He stood silently, observing as Serra squinted into the night. He couldn’t help but chuckle, imagining what her view must look like—a curtain of impenetrable black stretching endlessly. Not long ago, he would have seen the same, but now, with his hybrid senses, the world was vivid. The landscape unfolded before him in sharp clarity: the rolling hills dotted with sparse trees, the occasional flutter of movement from small creatures in the grass, and the faint shimmer of dew on leaves under the moonlight.
Serra inhaled deeply, as if steeling herself, and finally spoke. “You said you’re a hybrid—a mix of a werewolf and… a vampire, was it? Lycans, I’ve heard of. My parents told stories about men cursed to become beasts under the full moon. But vampires?” She stumbled over the unfamiliar word, her frown deepening as she turned to face him.
Brass watched her closely, noting how her eyes didn’t quite focus on him. She was struggling to see him, the darkness rendering her movements hesitant. It struck him as strange, realizing how fragile normal humans could be in the absence of light.
“I’ll explain, just give me a second,” he said, his voice gentle but firm.
Before she could protest, he darted away into the night, moving with an effortless grace that startled even him sometimes. As he wove through the hills, he gathered bits of fallen branches and dried wood, his senses guiding him to every subtle sound and smell that hinted at kindling. He eventually found a small nook beneath an overhang, a natural shelter that would shield them from the elements.
Satisfied with his find, Brass hurried back to Serra. He deliberately slowed his pace as he approached, but even so, the faint crunch of his footsteps in the grass made her whip around, her staff raised and trembling slightly.
“Hey, hey! Just me,” he called out, stopping a few paces away with his hands raised in mock surrender.
Serra let out a shaky breath, lowering the staff, though her grip on it didn’t ease entirely. “You startled me,” she muttered. “Where did you go, anyway?” Suspicion tinged her voice, and Brass thought he caught the faintest trace of fear in her scent—a sharp, bitter undertone he couldn’t ignore.
Not wanting to alarm her further, he explained quickly, his words tumbling out. “I found us a place to rest. There’s a little nook under one of the hills, and I grabbed some wood for a fire. Figured we could use a break after… everything.”
Her expression softened, and to his relief, she nodded. “Alright. Lead the way.”
The walk to the spot wasn’t far, but the uneven terrain made it challenging in the dark. Serra stumbled once, her footing slipping on a patch of loose soil, but Brass was there instantly, his reflexes allowing him to catch her before she fell.
“Careful,” he said, steadying her with a firm hand on her arm.
“Thanks,” she murmured, though her tone was more embarrassed than grateful.
When they reached the shelter, Brass set the wood down and began arranging it into a makeshift pile. The overhang provided decent cover, and the air here was still and calm. As Serra settled onto a patch of grass, Brass looked to her motioning to the bundle of sticks, with a twist of her wrist she shot a burst of fire towards the timber. A small flame flickered to life, casting soft, warm light over their faces and pushing back the oppressive darkness.
“There,” Brass said, brushing his hands off. “Now we can actually see each other.”
Serra glanced at him, her features bathed in the fire’s glow. She looked less nervous now, though her eyes still held curiosity—and no small amount of wariness. “Alright,” she said, leaning forward. “Talk. What’s a vampire?”
For a moment, Brass sat in silence, gathering his thoughts. He wished—not for the first time—that he’d paid more attention to the supernatural shows his sister had loved so much. Maybe then he’d have a better grasp of how to explain this. With a sigh, he began, his voice steady but unsure, like he was walking a tightrope without a net.
He did his best to summarize, drawing on the fragmented memories of vampire myths from his world. He described creatures of the night, cursed to drink blood for sustenance, their strength rivaled only by their weaknesses—sunlight, stakes, holy symbols. The words spilled out faster than he expected, made easier by the familiarity of the stories.
Serra remained quiet as he spoke, her eyes fixed on the fire. The flames danced, casting flickering shadows across her face, which shifted subtly with each word. A crease in her brow, the faint tightening of her lips—her expressions changed too quickly for Brass to pin down what she might be thinking.
The fire popped, sending a brief cascade of sparks into the air. “So,” she said finally, her voice even but thoughtful, “you’re saying these… vampires were legends where you’re from. But here, they’re real—and you’re one of them?”
He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “Sort of. I’m not exactly the same as the ones from my world’s stories. I’m… different.”
“Different how?” Serra’s gaze lifted from the fire, locking onto him.
Brass leaned back slightly, the flickering light playing over his sharp features. “For one, I’m also part werewolf. That’s not a thing back where I’m from. And two…” He paused, unsure of how to phrase it. “I’m not undead. At least, I don’t think I am. It’s more like I’ve been… changed.”
“Changed how?” she pressed, her tone cautious but not hostile.
He glanced away, his heightened senses picking up the faint rustling of grass in the distance, the whisper of the night wind against the overhang. “My body’s stronger, faster. My senses are… insane. I can hear your heartbeat, feel the heat coming off your skin from here. But it’s more than that. There’s a pull—something primal. Like I’m always walking a tightrope between control and… something else.”
Serra’s expression softened, her curiosity taking on a more empathetic edge. “And the blood?”
Brass flinched but nodded. “Yeah. That’s part of it too. I need it to survive. But it’s not as bad as it sounds—I haven’t hurt anyone.” He hesitated, glancing at her. “Yet.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn’t recoil. Instead, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “And the wings? The dragon?”
He chuckled darkly, the sound low and bitter. “That’s from one of my abilities, it lets me adapt new creatures skills or traits that I use it on. The wings are new, though. Not exactly something I'm used to either.”
Serra sat back, her gaze drifting back to the fire. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the crackling flames filling the silence. Finally, she asked, “So… what does that make you? A chimera?”
Brass looked at her, the firelight reflecting in his amber eyes. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “That depends on who you ask.”
“Personally, I think it makes you a virus,” the system said, its sardonic metallic tone dripping with condescension. “You steal and adapt the traits of those you infect, all with the sole purpose of spreading destruction. Parasite is another fitting term, though I doubt your fragile ego would accept it. Oh, and according to your Earth scientists, you wouldn’t even qualify as alive. So, there’s that.”
Brass rolled his eyes, his jaw tightening. “Of course, you do. Now shut it,” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the soft crackle of the fire.
Serra glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly. The flickering firelight played off her pale skin, giving her an ethereal glow. Brass caught her gaze but quickly turned away, swallowing his nerves. Telling her he was also hearing a voice in his head—no matter how real the system was—would probably earn him a lot more than a quizzical look. Best to steer the conversation elsewhere.
Figuring he was already in too deep, he decided to lay out the basics of his story. “Well,” he began, “I'm not some chosen hero, this is what I know.” He went on to explain what happened after his arrival on this strange world—how he wandered, lost under the oppressive heat of the three suns, until the encounter with the drider. He told her what he learned, what he fought, and how it all led to their meeting, carefully omitting certain details.
Talking about it, spilling the weight he carried, felt like breathing fresh air after being underwater too long. It hadn’t been that long since he arrived, but it felt like an eternity since his old life. Sharing even part of the truth with another living soul felt oddly cathartic. Of course, the system couldn’t let that slide.
“Wow, really?” the orb huffed, its luminous form appearing above Serra. Its faint hum sent a ripple of static through the air as it loomed over her like a judgmental overseer. “Maybe since I’m an ass, I should reveal myself to Serra. Better yet, perhaps I should enhance her. I’m certain she’d be better company than you.”
Brass’s breath hitched. Wait—you can do that? he thought, the question echoing in his mind.
“Of course I can. I’m the great and mighty system. All things are possible—”
Before Brass could finish the thought, Serra straightened up in front of him, her hands planted firmly on her hips, the determined set of her expression throwing him off guard. The firelight reflected in her eyes, creating an illusion of glowing crimson embers, and for a moment, Brass thought he saw hearts flicker in her pupils—probably just a trick of the light.
“I get it,” she said, her tone as resolute as her posture. “You’re a lost traveler from another world, adrift in a strange land, with no one to rely on.” She stepped forward, closing the space between them in a single, bounding hop. Her hands found his shoulders, her grip surprisingly firm.
“Don’t worry,” she continued, her voice growing softer but no less intense. “I can guide you. I’ll teach you everything. Poor, uncultured, muscular barbarian that you are. Uncorrupted by the ideologies of the world. Fresh meat ready to be molded.”
Brass blinked, his mind racing as her words sank in. His instincts flared, a warning prickling at the edges of his consciousness. She was too close—closer than she’d been since they met—and he realized, uncomfortably, how little he really knew about her.
“I—uh—” he began, but his words faltered as Serra leaned in, her breath warming the air between them. He caught the faintest trace of something floral and earthy—was that from the herb she’d chewed earlier?
“It’s okay,” she said, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “You can rely on me. I’ll teach you everything about this world. After all, no telling the trouble you could get into without a local to look out for you. All you have to do is be the brawn to my brains, and—”
“Okay, okay, hold up,” Brass said, his voice sharp enough to cut through her sentence. He gently grabbed her hands and pushed them away, trying to inject some humor into his response. “Not corrupted by your world’s ideals? Pretty sure that was supposed to be my line.”
Serra blinked, tilting her head, her expression somewhere between amusement and offense. Her breathing had quickened, and Brass wasn’t sure if she was flustered or just overly enthusiastic. Either way, he needed to redirect this fast.
“Look,” he said, forcing a laugh, “I appreciate the sentiment, but—”
Before he could finish, the system chimed in with its usual tact.
“Honestly, you should take the offer, Brass,” it interjected in its mocking tone. “You could use someone with brains. It’s a quality you’re sorely lacking.”
Brass groaned, burying his face in his hands as Serra tilted her head further, clearly wondering why he looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
“AHHH!” Serra’s sudden shout shattered the tranquil night, sending Brass jumping nearly a foot into the air. His heightened senses magnified the sharpness of her voice, and he instinctively scanned for danger, only to find her grinning at him with wide-eyed excitement.
“I get it now!” she declared, jabbing a finger toward him. “That’s why you really want the Sun Opal for that enchantment! You said vampires burn to ash in sunlight, and since you’re a vampire… you burn in sunlight, don’t you? You’re not actually planning to go to a desert, are you?”
Brass let out a nervous chuckle, realizing she was referring to the excuse he’d given her earlier. “Yeah, that’s right,” he said, rolling with it. “I need something to stave off the sun’s effects.”
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Before he could say more, Serra leaned in so close that he had to brace himself against the urge to retreat. Her crimson eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and challenge, and he swore he could feel the warmth of her breath ghosting across his skin.
“You see,” she said with a smirk, “you need me. You’ve already revealed so many weaknesses, things others would’ve taken advantage of in a heartbeat.” Her fingers traced a slow, deliberate path up his abdomen, sending an uninvited tingle racing up his spine. Then, without warning, she jabbed a finger sharply against his chest, directly over his heart.
“Like how all I’d have to do to stop your resurrection,” she added with a sultry edge to her voice, “is drive a stake right here.”
Her tone, husky and teasing, made the hairs on his arms stand on end. Brass leaned back instinctively, trying to create space between them, only to realize—too late—that she had somehow pinned him to the ground. His enhanced strength and reflexes should have made that impossible, yet here he was, flat on his back with her perched over him like a predator savoring her catch.
His mind raced. He could throw her off in an instant—or… not. She was rather attractive, and her confidence had a magnetic pull he found difficult to resist. Who was he to deny her advances?
As if reading his thoughts, Serra smirked. Then, in a swift and fluid motion, she sprang off him like a coiled spring, landing gracefully on the other side of the fire. Brass blinked in confusion as she casually rummaged through her bag, pulling out a strip of dried meat and chewing on it with a wry smile. The mischievous glint in her eye said it all: Gotcha.
Brass groaned, letting his head fall back to the ground with a dull thud. He sighed, deciding to let it go. He’d been bested, and honestly, a little rest wouldn’t hurt after everything they’d been through. The crackle of the fire and the distant hum of nocturnal creatures provided a soothing backdrop, lulling him into a rare moment of peace. He briefly entertained the thought of a drink or a smoke—he wasn’t much of a habitual user, but every now and then, indulgence had its charm.
Time passed, and the earlier tension dissipated into a comfortable silence. Brass let the exhaustion settle over him like a heavy blanket, while Serra, seemingly unfazed by the earlier chaos, stood and stretched. Brass glanced over, his eyes catching the way she leaned into each movement, her body twisting with precision and care. It reminded him of a wolf stretching after a long hunt—fluid, deliberate, and primal.
She straightened, looking into the darkness beyond the firelight, her hands on her hips. After a moment, she threw her hands up in frustration. “With all these clouds, I can’t see a damn thing!”
Brass sat up, glancing past her into the night. The sky above was heavy with an oppressive haze, dark and impenetrable. “It’s mostly smoke,” he said casually, his enhanced vision cutting through the gloom with ease.
Serra turned to him, her expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Wait—you can tell the difference in this darkness? I can barely see five feet in front of me.”
Brass shrugged, feeling the faintest hint of smugness creep in. “Perks of the hybrid package,” he replied with a smirk. “Vampire night vision, werewolf tracking. Pretty handy, wouldn’t you say?”
Serra tilted her head, studying him with a curious intensity. “Handy, sure,” she said. “But it’s also just a little unsettling. Like… how much more can you see than me right now?”
Brass smirked, leaning back on his hands. “Let’s just say, if anything’s out there watching us, I’ll know before it makes a move. So, relax. You’re safe with me.”
Serra rolled her eyes but smiled, turning back to the fire. “Safe, huh? Guess we’ll see about that. Any idea where we are?”
Brass leaned back, glancing around the shadowy hills that stretched endlessly under the shroud of smoke and cloud. “Well, I see a lot of hills and bushes. Oh, and that’s a snake eating a mouse. Nice to see some things are the same everywhere,” he added with a grin, the vivid scene playing out over a thousand yards away. His enhanced senses sharpened the image—the snake’s slick, glinting scales, the faint squeak of the mouse before silence fell. It was like watching one of those wildlife documentaries he used to enjoy back home, albeit far more visceral.
Serra blinked at him, bemused. “That far off? You’re really not human anymore, are you?” she muttered, shaking her head before pointing toward the horizon. “Great. Which direction do you think we went?”
“South,” he replied with confidence, his finger instinctively pointing toward it.
“You’re positive?”
He nodded, though he couldn’t explain how he knew. It was just… there, a certainty as natural as breathing. He could feel the alignment of the world like an invisible compass in his mind.
“That would be another nice little upgrade from the dragon instincts,” the system chimed, the orb hovering smugly behind him. “Flight comes with its perks, doesn’t it? Orientation included.”
Brass smirked, realizing it was convenient but not quite a map to riches. “Great. Now I can always know where north is… not so helpful when I have no clue where anything else is.”
Serra’s laugh rang out, a genuine sound that echoed across the hills. “Amazing! You brought us all the way to the Skor Foothills. That’s nearly thirty leagues in a single night!” Her voice rose with incredulity, and she turned to him with a wide grin. “No wonder you outpaced a dragon.”
For a moment, the exhaustion of the night faded as she beamed at him. Her expression was unrestrained, her joy radiating like sunlight breaking through clouds. The flickering firelight caught her features, illuminating her flushed cheeks and the spark of admiration in her crimson eyes. Brass froze, captivated. In that moment, Serra looked breathtakingly alive, her spirit shining brighter than any blaze.
He cleared his throat and looked away, embarrassed by his sudden awareness. “Well, uh… dragon speed and all that,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head.
“Dragon speed, huh?” she teased, sitting back down by the fire. “Guess that makes you a proper monster now.”
Brass chuckled, but the word hung in the air between them, sparking thoughts he wasn’t sure he wanted to entertain.
Serra stood and stretched, shaking out her legs before turning to Brass. “Well, since we’re here and you can’t travel during the day, we might as well get started on finding that Sun Opal. Sitting around isn’t going to help.”
Brass frowned, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. “Day can’t be too far off,” he muttered. “And without the moon, you’d be stumbling around in the dark.”
Serra raised a brow at him, then smirked as if accepting a challenge. She reached for her staff, muttered something under her breath, and a ball of warm orange light erupted from its tip. The glowing orb hovered in the air like a miniature sun, casting a soft, flickering light that stretched just far enough to illuminate the immediate area.
“There,” she said, crossing her arms and giving him a smug look. “Problem solved.”
Brass blinked at the magical creation. “Okay, that’s… pretty cool. And really useful.”
“Thank you,” Serra said with a mock bow, clearly enjoying his reaction.
“Yeah, useful if you want to wave a big glowing ‘here we are’ sign for every flying, fire-breathing lizard searching the skies.”
Serra froze, her triumphant grin fading into an awkward smile. “Fair point. So, what do you suggest, Mr. Shadow Walker?”
Brass smirked, crossing his arms. “Glad you asked. Turns out, I’ve got a skill that might just solve the problem. A little thing called teleportation.”
Her jaw dropped, and she took a step closer, her eyes lighting up with disbelief. “Teleportation? You’re serious?” She gripped her staff tightly, as though trying to ground herself. “That’s ancient magic! Nobody can do that anymore except the fae! And even then, only under specific conditions.”
Brass shrugged nonchalantly, though he couldn’t help but enjoy her reaction. “It has its limits,” he admitted, “but it’ll work here.”
Serra’s eyes narrowed, and her voice took on an eager, almost frantic edge. “You have to tell me how it works! Does it manipulate spatial mana or tap into ley lines? Does it require a stable anchor point, or can you move freely within a radius? What’s the cooldown period—wait, do you even have a mana pool, or is it skill-based? Oh, and—”
“Whoa, slow down,” Brass interrupted, holding up his hands. “I don’t understand half of what you just said. I can just… do it.”
She stopped, staring at him with an expression of utter disbelief. “You can just do it?”
“Yup.”
“That’s insane,” she muttered, pacing now. “Do you know what this means? The only teleportation magic anyone has access to these days is through the Great Gates, and even those are practically relics. They’re portals left behind by the Ancients—an entire network connecting regions. Governments hoard the resources to activate them, and you have to go through official channels just to use them. Not to mention, the Council of Kings outlawed their use in war. Well, officially, anyway.” She threw him an exasperated look. “And you’re telling me you can just… bypass all of that?”
Brass scratched the back of his neck, feeling a mix of pride and awkwardness. “Pretty much.”
Serra pointed her staff at him, her eyes narrowing like a predator locking onto prey. “You have no idea how much of a game-changer this is. Do you realize—”
“Let me stop you right there,” Brass said, holding up a hand. “I get it. It’s a big deal. But it’s not unlimited, and we’ve got other things to worry about. Like, say, not getting roasted by a dragon.”
Serra sighed, clearly frustrated but reluctantly letting it drop. “Fine. But you owe me a detailed explanation later. If we survive this.”
He grinned. “Deal. Ready to see it in action?” Brass asked, stepping closer to her.
Serra nodded, her curiosity mingling with a hint of nervousness. “Let’s hope you don’t leave half of me behind.”
Brass smirked. “Have a little faith.”
Brass moved to the deepest part of the overhang, his boots crunching faintly against the loose soil. Though the space wasn’t big, it offered a comforting sense of enclosure, sheltering them from the vast night outside. He took a steadying breath and brought up his skill menu. Focusing on the Webways skill, he activated it, feeling a sharp tug in his chest as invisible threads of energy began to weave around him.
In a shimmer of light, a faintly glowing Nexus point formed in the air. It pulsated like a living heart, tendrils of light spiraling outward to anchor itself to the space. Satisfied with the result, Brass allowed himself a small smirk—this would be his checkpoint, a place he could return to at any time.
Turning to Serra, he extended his hand. “Ready?”
She looked at his hand as if it were a relic from an ancient god, her crimson eyes wide with awe. Slowly, she reached out, her fingers trembling slightly. Just as her hand brushed his, Brass grinned mischievously and clasped it firmly, pulling her forward. Before she could even react, they plunged into the shadows together.
The air around them shifted abruptly, the oppressive weight of reality peeling away like a discarded cloak. They found themselves standing on an intricate, web-like bridge of shimmering starlight, suspended in a swirling void of darkness. The bridge connected three glowing nodes, each radiating soft light in different hues—one gold, one emerald, and one deep indigo. The endless expanse of the void around them felt both infinite and intimate, the darkness thrumming with an otherworldly energy that made the hair on the back of Brass’s neck stand on end.
“This is incredible!” Serra exclaimed, spinning and twirling along the silken strands like a dancer on a stage. The strands pulsed faintly beneath her feet, reacting to her movement with subtle vibrations that sent ripples of light through the web. Her laughter echoed into the void, bright and unrestrained.
Brass, watching nervously, called out, “Careful! I don’t know what happens if you fall off.” He leaned over slightly to peer into the swirling abyss below. It was mesmerizing, like staring into the eye of a storm made of shadows. Forcing himself to look away, he turned toward the central node—a glowing nexus that seemed to pulse in rhythm with his heartbeat. “Come on, we need to head through here.”
He extended his hand to Serra again, but this time she moved with a dancer’s grace, pirouetting her way over to him. Her face was radiant with delight, her excitement infectious. “Brass, this is amazing!” she said, clutching his arm like an excited child. “I think it’s some form of spatial magic! It’s similar to a P.I.T. bag—oh, that’s a Potentially Infinite Timespace artifact,” she added when he gave her a blank look. “But this… this is different. It must connect points in space within a folded reality! These anchor nodes stabilize the spatial bubble, but to actually connect them, you’d need an incredible amount of energy! And don’t even get me started on Zeliban’s Third Law of Magic—”
Brass laughed and shook his head, cutting her off before her rambling could spiral completely out of control. “You’re about to hit maximum nerd, Serra. Let’s move before you summon a chalkboard out of thin air.”
Still grinning, he guided her toward the central nexus. As they stepped onto the glowing core, reality itself seemed to ripple and distort. The swirling void spun faster, and the silken strands of the bridge dissolved into streams of light that wrapped around them like ribbons.
The world snapped back into focus, and the crypt materialized around them. He blinked, steadying himself as his senses readjusted to the weight of solid reality. The air in the crypt was cool and damp, carrying the faint metallic tang of mineral-rich water and the earthy aroma of disturbed soil.
Serra stumbled slightly, catching herself against Brass’s arm. Her crimson eyes darted around the room, he followed her motion, his gaze settling on the room’s familiar features. The portal stood behind them, its faint magical hum the only sound besides the occasional drip of water from above.“We’re… here?” she asked, her voice tinged with awe.
Brass nodded. “Welcome to my humble crypt.” He gestured to the space with a sarcastic flourish.
Serra spun slowly, her eyes tracing every detail. Ahead, the broken amethyst geode dominated the back wall, its jagged shards glinting faintly in the dim light. The roots snaking down from the ceiling trembled slightly as if moved by some unseen current, and a shallow puddle had formed near one of the walls where water had collected. A crude wooden bookshelf leaned against the side, stuffed with a haphazard collection of books and scrolls, and next to it sat a small, well-worn box filled with alchemical ingredients, their faint, herbal scents mingling with the damp air.
“This… this is insane. You just teleported us here like it was nothing! Do you even realize how much this changes things? If you can master this skill—”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Brass said, interrupting her with a wry smile.
Serra raised an eyebrow but let it go, her attention shifting back to the crypt’s eerie surroundings. “Fine, but don’t think I’m done interrogating you about this.”
She stepped forward, her eyes sweeping across the room. Her gaze caught on the patch of dirt in the corner—a small, makeshift grave with no marker other than the telltale shape of freshly turned soil.
“Is that…” she started, her voice trailing off.
Brass nodded solemnly. “Yeah. My grave.”
Her expression softened, a flicker of understanding crossing her features before she turned her attention to the geode. “This is… incredible. I’ve seen magical formations before, but this? A geode of amethyst this large and naturally attuned to spatial magic? It’s no wonder this crypt resonates with your portal.”
He scratched the back of his head, unsure how to respond. “It wasn’t exactly my first choice of housing, but it does the job. Keeps me hidden.”
She knelt by the box of alchemical ingredients, lifting the lid with curiosity. “These are rare,” she murmured, her fingers hovering over a vial of crushed moonstone and a bundle of dried nightshade. “Some of these I’ve only read about. Where did you even find these?”
Brass shrugged. “It was all the Driders.”
Serra stood and took a deep breath, her earlier excitement tempered by the somber atmosphere of the crypt. “This place… it feels like a crossroads. Like it’s meant to be more than just a hideout.”
Brass smirked. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just a hole in the ground I dressed up to look important.”
She laughed softly, the sound echoing faintly off the dirt walls. “Either way, it’s… you. Functional, practical, and just a little mysterious.”
Brass leaned against the portal frame, his eyes on her. “Glad you approve, but we’re not staying long. Once we’re rested, we’re heading back out. The sooner we find that Sun Opal, the better.”
“Agreed,” Serra said, but her gaze lingered on the geode, her mind already spinning with possibilities.