“Are we sure we have the right location?” Oliver asked.

He was walking down a plateau of small grass and scanty flowers, each a variety of different soft colors. Beside him Chris walked with her bone milk club hefted over one shoulder while Ash walked with a scowl a half-step behind her. In front of them, Jason led with a disk in hand that projected a miniature display of a blue map. A small arrow head on the map indicated the location of the disk itself while a blinking green dot indicated their destination.

The dot was supposed to be the Olympian they were supposed to rendezvous with, but the closer they grew to the dot, the stranger Oliver felt.

“I don’t like this,” he said, looking around. “This place feels wrong.”

“Why?” Chris asked. “Too happy for you? Too gay?”

Oliver adjusted his backpack. “No.”

“It just feels that way because we haven’t been on this side of the woods before,” Jason said from ahead of them.

“We aren’t even in the forest yet,” Chris said.

“Yea,” Jason agreed, looking up from the map. “We’ve still got a bit of a distance to cover.”

Ahead of them the woods loomed in the distance, now too full of plant life to be a woods anymore. What laid ahead of them was a sea of trees and it stood from one side to the next like a tall wall of brown and green and purple and yellow. There were so many colors Jason found himself believing there existed a chance that if humanity wanted to find new colors all they needed to do was look in there.

“Come on,” he beckoned to the others. “Let’s try and get there before it gets dark.”

“Before it gets dark?” Ash snorted. “In case you didn’t notice, Jason, it’s already evening. Dark is right behind us.”

The rest of the walk was done in relative silence.

Ash spared Oliver discreet glances as they walked. He hadn’t said more than a handful of words to her since last night. They’d gone on their morning run together and had even gone into the same training routine they did every morning. Their sparring had little joy in it and Oliver kept his strength to the required minimum so that he didn’t hurt her.

He did it all with the emotional attachment of the dead.

When they arrived at the entrance to the forest on this side, the trees were humongous. Larger than life, as if artificially built to stand so tall.

“Were they this big last time?” Chris mused, an uncomfortable look on her face.

“I don’t think so,” Oliver answered.

“Good. I just wanted to be sure I wasn’t seeing things.”

“On that subject,” Ash interjected. “I still think it was a shitty move to not come with a car.”

“Uhuh,” Jason said absently. “Take it up with Heimdall when we get back. Or Festus when we run into him.”

“We’re running into Festus? I thought the whole point was to spread out and cover more ground.”

“It was, but all three teams are going to converge on one location then scour what’s left of the forest after that.”

“Okay,” Ash drew out the word, doubtful.

“Just follow me,” Jason said.

Then he stepped past the first line of trees and into the forest.

They felt the ambient mana drop like a plane taking a nose dive the moment they crossed the line of trees. It was like crossing some kind of border or an invisible wall that kept the mana out.

Ash gasped from the sudden drop.

The air was thinner here, lacking. At least that was how it felt. The truth, however, was that it was merely the mana that was gone. Each of them felt their cores tighten, churn from the sudden absence of mana. As they had practiced for when they were low on mana after a fight, they took deep breaths, slow and calculated, channeling their core so that it adapted to their current state.

“I take it I’m not the only who felt that,” Chris said

“Yea,” Jason replied. “Felt it, too.”

“This would definitely be a terrible place to pick a fight,” Oliver said.

Ash kept her silence, unlike the others, it took her a moment longer to adjust to the level of ambient mana.

The others waited for her. Oliver watched with a touch of worry as she took her time to reacclimatize herself. When she was done, Jason was the first to speak.

“We good?”

“Yea,” Ash nodded. “Just took longer than I thought.”

“Must be tough still being Beta rank after all this time,” Chris said. “I swear I thought you’d be a Rukh by now.”

“I’m technically a Rukh now, though,” Ash said.

“What do you mean?”

“She hit her mark this morning,” Oliver said to Chris.

“And she didn’t rank up? Why?”

Oliver shrugged. “No idea.”

“Something was just missing,” Ash explained. “I just think I need—”

“Going from Beta to Rukh isn’t like going from Awakened to Beta,” Jason said as they walked amongst a myriad of colorful trees, interspaced by a distance large enough to contain four men walking side by side.

“Yea,” Ash confirmed, crestfallen.

“Are you sure you and Oliver are good?” Jason asked. “Because we don’t need anything messing with our teamwork today.”

“We’re good,” Oliver said flatly. “My big sister’s just a bit on the arrogant side. She wanted to figure it out herself.”

“That’s dumb,” Chris said. “It’s like saying you don’t want ten million rune-dollars for free. You want to work for it instead.”

“No,” Oliver said, shaking his head. “It’s more of she doesn’t want it from her little brother for free but would rather work for it instead.”

Chris sighed.

“There’s no rocket science to ranking up,” she said. “All you need to do it pretty much the opposite of going from Awakened to Beta. You just have to—”

“No,” Jason interrupted her. “Not now.”

“Why not?” Ash asked.

“Because moving from Beta to Rukh isn’t like moving from Awakened to Beta. Moving to Beta had an effect that assimilated you to ambient mana. It merged you with it, in a manner of speaking. So your innate mana took from the one around you so that you could form a more stable and physical core. Going to Rukh isn’t the same thing.”

“Then what’s it like?”

“It’s loud,” Oliver said, understanding seeping into his voice. “If you rank up to Rukh here, it will be like announcing your presence to any and everything. Every monster would come rushing like you’re the appetizer while they keep waiting for the buffet to be ready.”

“Oh,” Chris said. “That’s true.”

“Moving to Beta rank was like that, too,” Ash said.

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“No,” all the other three refused, shaking their heads.

“Going to Beta rank would’ve just sent a ripple as wide as a small house,” Jason said. “Going to Rukh is like setting off a small bomb. It’s like shouting at the world and telling it ‘I’m here.’ And everyone close by will listen.”

“Even if the mana here is so thin?” Ash asked.

“Even if the mana here is so thin,” Jason confirmed.

There was a slight nod of acceptance from Ash before they lulled back into silence.

The thin air was the only part of the forest that lacked beauty. The rest of it was as beautiful as any resort or tourist attraction any country could boast. The assortment of colors spread far and wide. Each tree was like an over-enthusiastic peacock spreading its colors in display of its beauty.

There were trees with specific colors running up one side of them, their backs covered in thick grass so that they looked like fur growing over an animal’s skin rather than rough barks as is to be expected of trees. There was a tree as black as night with a colorful touch of ocean blue grass growing across its length in a spiral like a tribal tattoo. There was a tree with a body the color of rose and leaves of generous yellow sprouting from every branch. Its body was a beautiful rose red save a massive claw mark that shone a stark white along its side. They weren’t sure if it was simply a monster attack or if it was the sign of a territory marking. What they did know was that the claw mark was an injury that had healed into the color white.

Despite how bountiful and tall the trees were, sunlight still spilled through holes in their canopy, basking the forest in streams of orange. Tree roots did not remain below ground, rising from the ground like giant creeping grass, tentacles that dug deep and rose high in search of nutrients, their bodies covered in blossoming flowers and colorful grass that reflected the sunlight in a complimenting touch. It was like walking within a garden planted by humans and giants.

With the streams of sunlight and the colorful plant life, everything looked ethereal.

“It’s like a freaking fantasy world in here,” Chris said, her voice carrying a touch of awe.

“Know what it reminds me of?” Oliver said absently, his gaze wandering from tree to tree.

“What?” Ash asked.

“Every Elven forest in every fantasy work ever made.”

Jason chuckled at that. “All that’s left is the massive tree at the centre and you’ve got yourself a straight fantasy story.”

“Imagine if we ran into elves.”

Everyone stopped, three pairs of eyes turning to look at Oliver.

“What?” Oliver asked, defiant. “You have monsters and magic and you think Elves are far-fetched.”

“This is just a throwaway from the real world, Ollie,” Ash said. “Don’t let this… beauty make you forget what’s outside.”

“Yea,” Oliver muttered. “Ours is an apocalypse. But a guy can dream, though.”

“True,” Jason said, wistful.

It didn’t take a mind mage to figure out he was thinking about a world with elves in it.

“But which one, though?” Ash asked as they resumed their journey.

Jason turned to her. “What do you mean?”

“The elves. Aren’t there like a lot of them?”

“What’s your point?”

“What kind of Elves would be here? High elves? Dark elves? Wood elves?”

“Busty elves,” Chris added.

“I don’t think the guys you knew indulged in the same fantasies these guys did,” Ash told her.

“Nope,” Oliver said. “They did. Definitely the same one.”

“Why would there be busty elves. I can understand that some of the female elves might be busty, but you make it sound like an actual race of elves.”

“Yup,” Oliver said, unabashed. “Just an entire collection of elves designed for the specific purpose of being female and being busty.”

Ash’s expression was one of disgust. “That’s just gross. Sounds more like porn.”

“The word you’re looking for is Ecchi.”

“Or hentai,” Jason offered.

“No, dude,” Oliver whined. “You should’ve just left her at Ecchi.”

“I know hentai,” Ash said suddenly, then her face grew more disgusted. “That’s gross. What kind of guy would go around thinking about busty elves?”

“The kind of guy you can trust,” Oliver said.

Ahead of them, looking down at his hologram of a map, Jason nodded sagely but said nothing.

“Take this little lesson from your little brother, Ash,” Oliver continued. “Never trust a man that claims he’s never heard of busty elves. And run from a man that says he doesn’t like busty elves.”

“You know you guys are giving men a bad rep, right?”

“Depends,” Oliver said, having to bodily climb over a large root. “We are men who talk about busty elves but also have what it takes to kill gross and deadly giant monsters.”

“I think we give men a good enough rep with that last one,” Jason said from in front of them. “We take a right here.”

They made a right around a large tree—all the trees were large—and came to a stop. About a dozen trees ahead of them, they saw their party.

Two Olympians stood, characteristically tall and large. One was of simple build, shape and size rounded out perfectly like a healthy person if he was over seven feet tall and built for efficiency while the other was on the bulky side of things. Each of them carried an assault rifle and a side piece, a handgun strapped to their waist held in place by nothing they could see visibly.

Beside them, standing awkwardly, were two mages. They wore simple clothes of cotton, one with a grey top, blue faded jean and hiking boots while the other wore a bright pink cotton tee and deep black joggers with sneakers. Both of them male.

There was a third mage and he held their attention more than even the Olympians. They remembered seeing him at the party, and even there he had touched against their senses. He looked barely alive as they drew closer. His skin was plastered to his body as if his flesh was somehow lacking, or wasn’t even there at all, and he was the embodiment of what a desiccated human being was meant to be. They would’ve described him as malnourished but that did no justice to his description. Desiccated was a better qualifier.

The mage wore a jacket of faded red and black horizontal stripes with a dirty faded blue jean and slippers that had seen better days. On his head he wore a hat like a cowboy and gave them a toothy smile as they drew closer.

As Jason, Ash, Oliver and Chris got to them, the smaller Olympian addressed them.

“I take it you guys are Jason and his team,” it said, it’s voice hollow and electronic, as if it were talking through speakers.

“Guilty as charged,” Chris answered. “And you must be pre work out and post workout.”

The Olympians gave no reaction but the mage in the hat laughed happily.

“What you laughing at, Freddy Krueger?” she snapped at him. “You aren’t any better.”

“Finally!” the mage said, his voice odd, like gravels grating. “Someone gets it. I’ve been standing with these lack wits for over thirty minutes and no one’s said a thing.”

“You must be Chris,” the large Olympian noted. “We were warned of your dislike. However, do understand that we’ve been authorized to put you down should you prove a threat to us during this expedition.”

“Isn’t that just a lovely way to build trust,” Chris replied, sarcastic.

The second Olympian remained quiet, his attention on her fixed, head unmoving.

“Sorry about that,” Jason said, stepping forward. “I’m Jason.”

He held out his hand to the smaller Olympian for a handshake and the man with the hat laughed. The Olympian spared it a momentary glance before shaking it.

Its grip was strong, its hand metallic. However, it was warm to the touch where Jason had been expecting it to be cold.

“These are the rest of my team,” Jason said when the handshake was done, gesturing to the rest. “That’s Oliver, that’s Ash, and as you’ve already guessed, the last one’s Chris. She’s usually not much of a talker.”

“It’s alright,” the Olympian said. “It’s not our first run in with people that don’t like the VHF. Hate makes people do things they wouldn’t normally do. I’m Cabuella but you can call me Kid. My partner here is Daniel. He’ll be taking point. The grey top is Jim and the pink is Hillary. Freddy Krueger over there is called Big Man Desolate.”

“You can just call me Desolate for short,” the mage said. “Or Freddy, if you’re feeling generous.”

“That’s a nice blaster,” Daniel said, his empty helmeted face on Jason.

Jason pretended not to hear the insinuation in the Olympian’s voice as he answered, “Thank you.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Picked it off a—”

“Is it going to be a problem?” Chris interrupted.

“No,” Kid said, usurping the conversation. “It’s just an old model so the recoil’s heavy and it doesn’t have many shots in it per mana stone. Just wanted to let you know not to rely on it too much.”

“Noted,” Chris said flatly. “Now can we know the plan or do I have to give you my dress size too?”

“Chest forty, waist thirty-four and ass thirty-six.”

Everyone looked at Desolate.

“What?” Desolate asked innocently. “I thought that was actually a thing. It’s not? I see. So we’re not sharing measurements?”

Chris scowled at him. “No.”

“Fine.”

With that out of the way, Kid drew their attention to a disk he held in his hand. It was the same size as the one Jason held but with the size of his armored hand, it looked way too small. The other mages brought out disks of their own.

“Glad to see everyone has theirs,” Kid said, then the disk created a hologram of a map wider than the one Jason’s had produced and he took a knee so that everyone could see.

“Our drones have already mapped out most of the forest,” he went on when everyone was gathered around the map, gesturing as he spoke. “Now the constantly moving red dots are the monsters in the region, and the dark areas are the parts not yet mapped out by the drones. Even though we’ll be together most of the way, I’ll still say this, please don’t venture into the dark areas. We don’t know what’s out there yet and no one will come for you if anything goes wrong.”

“I thought we were going to scour the entire forest for this thing,” Hillary said. “How are we going to do that if we don’t go into the dark places? Not that I want to.”

“I’m not saying we won’t search those places,” Kid said. “I’m saying don’t venture into them, yet. Once we’re done scouring our section of the forest which is here,” an area of the mapped forest where they were glowed a soft green, “then we’ll meet up with the others here,” a green dot appeared in one of the regions that remained the hologram blue. “Once we’ve met up with the others, then all of us will venture into the dark places. Hopefully our drones would be done mapping out that region by then. Any questions?”

“Just one,” Jim said.

“Go for it.”

“If the big guy’s the one in charge, why isn’t he the one talking?”

“Because he’s mute.”

Daniel cuffed Kid behind the head and the impact rang as metals clanged.

“I’m not mute,” he said. “Kid, here, is just better at talking to people.”

“Then what are you better at?” Jim asked.

Daniel looked down at Jim. There was something menacing about being looked down on by a massive, featureless, metal face. Daniel’s answer did nothing to humanize it.

“Crushing people.”