His feet felt heavy and his gait felt slow. But even more than Randidly, the surrounding people seemed to be drifting, inflated versions of themselves. Every motion was overdone and exaggerated, all their significance and connections awkwardly tied into their expression in a partially self-defeating machine.

You know, I wonder what the Nether King saw, he shook his head slightly. When he looked at me. Did I seem this… inept?

Walking through the emotionally charged crowd felt to Randidly like he was leaning forward and grinding his way through a sandstorm. Even after the framework of his Ritual shattered from the strain, he still felt overexposed to the ‘elements’ of Nether. His eyes had been opened and it would be difficult to ever not notice its presence.

Especially here, on Expira, where he didn’t restrict it to a thin layer.

Another part of the discomfort was the tightly pressed bodies, who often didn’t even notice Randidly and buffeted him in their desire to get some more food. Part of it was the lingering confusion and fear from that strange monster woman’s display; even if Randidly had wiped away all of the kinetic and image ripples that she had produced, for a brief moment she had rung with a clear and aggressive note of violence.

Still, his own Nether Core continued to churn, creating an increasingly comprehensive film of Nether that he wove around his person so he didn’t need to rub up against the constant cacophony of pattern interactions. With that in place, he moved a little easier, slipping through the crowd with quick steps.

However, waiting on top of the sand dune were only three individuals, not four.

“Mr. Ghosthound, sorry for the trouble,” A red-haired young man offered Randidly a half bow, considering him nervously as he straightened. His eyes flicked to the monster woman. “This- we- well, we are in a bit over our heads.”

Randidly nodded slowly as he looked them over. The monster woman still regarded him with a crazed intensity, but after her initial show of force had been so thoroughly quashed, she seemed intelligent enough to know that further attacks weren’t going to be effective. Up close, Randidly could sense the significance queer being dragged behind them all, lingering like the scent of sulfurous mud being tracked through the barbecue.

Tossing a match amongst these few could still blow up this whole event.

Still, he didn’t address that. Instead, Randidly cleared his throat and asked. “Where did Todd go?”

The youngest member of the party had vanished while he had been walking through the crowd. The automaton lifted its head. “Ah, how embarrassing, Sir Ghosthound. It appears he has departed before you arrived. I’m sure he sends his warmest regards-”

“He feared you. Upon a black moor you stood, watching as the grey maggots wormed their way up through the damp soil and ate the farmers’ crops.” Suddenly, the monster woman spoke. Her voice was low and husky. “Such a blight the insects were! Mindless and ravenous. Yet even as the people found their vegetables ravaged and began to starve, you did nothing but brood. The subject of those thoughts hangs like a storm above him.”

This earned a long glance from Randidly. Partly for the strange way she spoke and partly for the sudden politeness as she addressed him, after her earlier attack, but also because he had felt her reach down and pull that information out of Nether. Looking at her curling horns and features, he realized that she was one of the Chimeras that had sprung up on Expira. A direct result of the creeping strangeness of his own existence, evidenced in the isolated universe that was his body.

A small frown grew across his face. Do all the Chimera possess this ability to access history and connection? A natural connection to Nether? Which likely means, as the presence of Nether in my own capabilities becomes looming, Chimeras will remain a threat to the people of Expira as they further develop their own abilities.

Abruptly, Randidly realized he had simply been standing silently after the Chimera had spoken. Both the automaton and the young man seemed frozen by nerves and his stillness. Meanwhile, he could feel the awkward groping of the Chimera’s Nether capabilities. Her attention had never wavered. She threw her perception at him again and again, like a child splashing away lake water so they could see the bottom. Yet the Chimera’s intensity as she looked at him made Randidly feel like if he gave her enough time, she would surely learn to manipulate Nether more effectively.

He cleared his throat. Disappointment and relief sat in his heart in equal parts. “Well, I just wanted to say hello. Please know that since you are here, I can help protect you from whatever is coming. For these two days, you won’t be pursued. Try to relax and enjoy the party.”

Randidly turned away and left them. I suppose that even if I’m ready to have this conversation with Todd, ready to face why I felt it necessary to have Expira face the Calamity, that doesn’t mean he is ready to face me. And his own emotions.

He paused mid-stride down the dune and planted a foot. Heat and force exploded through his leg and catapulted him upward. The nearby people likely felt a small spray of sand, but Randidly eliminated the ripples of his physical force entirely. Then he was gone, shooting up into the clear blue sky.

“Fuck, he’s so young,” Randidly reached up and rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t help but wonder when it happened that he became the individual who tried to have mature communication to resolve issues. Then he twisted around midair and looked down at the barbecue, using the distance to have more perspective on the swirling mill of Nether.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

He spotted Todd almost immediately, of course. But Randidly averted his gaze from digging too deeply into his significance or the trembling connection between them. Instead, he listened more broadly, wanting to understand how Expira was developing.

He didn’t want to repeat his mistakes with his early Soulspace.

*****

“Look, I’m not saying that there isn’t a reason to train; obviously you don’t want to be so feeble some pedestrian two-headed bear to overpower you as you are wandering through a forest, biting your head and your dick off at the same time,” Raspin spoke while chewing, making Vye want to staple the man’s mouth shut until he finished his mastication. He balanced his plate on his knees. “But you have to admit that there are diminishing returns at pouring in all the effort: look at the current Donnyton!”

The group of five individuals sat on some stones along the beach, away from the area where the serving table and bar gathered the massive crowd. Vye leaned forward and put her chin on her knees. Out of her Order Ducis uniform, she blended right into the group. They all had worn and well-used clothes and high-quality footwear. Amongst them, she was just one more exploration-obsessed woman, pushing the edges of Expira’s map.

The sharp-eyed Kouella tilted her head to the side, causing her gold earrings to tinkle and glitter in the sun. “What do you mean? Donnyton remains an influential force on Expira. And especially in the broader Alpha Cosmos. Seems like putting in effort has treated them well.”

Dmitri kept his head lowered. Of them all, he was the youngest and usually spoke only when exchanging concrete geographic information. Orsov had never spoken, at any of these meetings: as far as Vye could tell, the stoic man never spoke. Which of course, left most of the silence to be filled by the bickering Raspin and Kouella.

“Sure, their legacy will live on forever, but their accomplishments are about reputation and starting point.” Raspin tapped his plate with his fork for emphasis. The clinks were jarring; Vye briefly reconsidered her decision not to staple his mouth shut. Maybe the only reason she didn’t was because he was a damn good cartographer, for all his other flaws. “Now that the old leadership of Donnyton stepped down, they are rather mediocre compared to the whole of Expira.”

The explorers group was about double this size, but it wasn’t a surprise that half hadn’t made it; there were always new areas to discover and explore. Many held no interest in Randidly or his barbecue. These disparate individuals had encountered each other consistently in the new areas and Danger Zones, recognizing in each other a particular brand of zeal that drove them toward the unknown. With some prodding from Vye, they had established a relatively comprehensive network that meant that the individual maps everyone made became available to the whole of Expira, through the Order Ducis.

Vye felt guilty at first, that the Order Ducis was taking advantage of the hard work of all these laborers. But as far as she could tell, these hiking fools didn’t even notice that suddenly the rest of the world had their cutting-edge maps. They were too obsessed with the next adventure to bother.

“Oh stop, not this again. It’s about population, not starting point.” Kouella made a cutting motion with her hand. “More people means more talented people. Back when there were just a few Zones, Donnyton shined especially bright. Yet now that so many Bubble Cities have opened up-”

“I wonder what the final count of Bubble Cities is,” Dmitri muttered to himself.

“-there are just more talented fighters out there. Every time there is a clear front runner, the world eventually catches up.” Kouella finished.

Raspin snorted. “Ha! So you mean to say that any of these new talents can hold a candle to Alana Donal? Or the Sovereign of Ghosts? Or break through Donny’s Aegis? They’ve been on top of their game for years. Because the Ghosthound jump-started their growth, giving them a permanent edge. So the more power they give to the Cortez siblings, the less competitive advantage Donnyton can wield.”

“The head-start edge isn’t permanent,” Vye interjected.

“Ah. in denial of reality, eh?” Raspin looked at her with gleaming eyes. Much to her disgust, he took a large bite of his pork ribs before continuing to talk. The sauce gleamed on his lips. “Maybe there used to be different training methods or efficiencies, but we’ve been experiencing the System here for almost seven years! We’ve figured out how it works. Now there might be minor disputes over methods, but training efficiency has reached an all-time high. And if you started now, you might narrow the gap due to diminishing returns on Skill Levels of the people in front of you, but is exhausting yourself to close that gap worth it? Easy to empathize with the people that just want to leave security to the Orders and go back to normal life.”

“It’s not about being the best fighter,” Kouella pursed her lips. “It’s about protecting yourself. About being ready for another shift.”

“There’s also the matter of images,” Vye added, finding this train of conversation quite off-putting. “Even if people might not have the Skill Levels that the early people have earned, a powerful image can easily make up that difference.”

“Eh. Maybe for a bit. But you know, people tend to figure things out. We found the best training and I’d bet you anything we will soon find the best images. After that, there won’t be much variety; people will just choose the proven one that they like the most.” Raspin finished chewing and sucked the sauce off his fingers. “You can sorta see the way it would work with those Class lighthouses through the arches. Those who wish to spend their lives chasing the back of someone with a headstart will just emulate a powerful individual with a similar Class. I’m not saying there isn’t a lot of talent of the newer fighters. Just don’t try and say they can easily catch up.”

“I think the reason we are arguing,” Dmitri raised his gaze and brought it back down just as quickly. Yet when he spoke, there was a quiet intensity that Vye felt mirrored in her own heart. “Is because if too many people start thinking like you and finding training to be pointless, the next Calamity will gut us.”

Even Raspin rocked a bit backward at that thought. Vye pressed her eyes shut, fighting with the fizzle of dissatisfaction and guilt and dependency that she, as a member of the Order Ducis, always felt when the First Calamity was addressed. Because of the directive from the Ghosthound not to interfere.

Of course, the true pressure of that event was in the follow-up; the anticipation of a Second Calamity felt suffocating even now.

“Ahem. Part of the reason no one can catch up is those forerunners are always improving. So long as we have them… well, we can handle it,” Raspin continued. But his forehead displayed a sudden sheen of sweat. Waves lapped on the shore, wiping away the already shallow footsteps that the group used to arrive here.

For several seconds Vye looked at the rivulets of saltwater, thinking that the erosion she witnessed wasn’t some coincidental phenomenon of the tides but the sneering action of an invisible hand, a deliberate and mocking dismissal from a natural world that would gleefully bid humanity adieu. A little push from the uncaring abyss, a nudge off the edge.

Is this how the natural world kills us? It hibernates and lurks, waiting for humanity to weaken itself. And then it pounces when we least expect it?

Then Vye blinked. The moment passed.