Zan wondered these thoughts and more while he pushed his feet one in front of the other. He blocked out his lethargy, he blocked his tiredness, and his pain in his feet. Mechanically, Zan peddled. He didn't think about the weight bearing down on his leg with each cycle of the peddle; he didn't think about the sweat rolling from his skin; he didn't even think of how labored his lungs seemed, heavy with wet, humid air. He only focused on what lie ahead. He only focused on making progress. Zan concentrated on nothing else except his system icon telling him how far away he was from clearing the pass.

All Zan's focus paid off.

By the time he became aware again of his surroundings he saw he was halfway through the pass.

Thinking on it, Zan remembered when he crossed over from the field to the barren rock of the pass. His tires hit smooth. No soft earth. Hard. But Bumpy and Consistent.

Glancing back, the enemy force continued its pursuit. Zan had to wonder: where they giving chase to him or Colonel Winters?

Straining his body to look, Zan looked for the colonel. He found only a tuft of dust in the horizon. A tuft he had to view through his seeing lens. If colonel Winters and his men were so far away, why was the enemy still sending their forces at him? Surely, they weren't pursuing him, personally?

Zan stopped his idle thoughts. At some point, he became aware he had stopped moving. So, of course, he resumed his forward momentum. Only...

He couldn't! He couldn't move and Zan earnestly tried to move his body. 'Move damn you, move!' he shouted at himself. Willing himself to move, his body refused his command. 'What is going on?!' Horror gripped Zan as he attempted to physically move his legs using his arms but found to even move like that elicited an intense pain. Ceasing his efforts to move himself manually, Zan lowered himself back into a sitting position on his bike.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

Inching his bike forward and feeling every millimeter gained as a searing pain somewhere on his body, Zan started to cry.

"Zan: our sensors indicate you are in intense pain. What is wrong?" Screen Master Simulacrum asked via the earpiece.

"I--" Zan gasped. "Don't know. I can barely move. Pain..."

"Based on your symptoms and the intense activity you have underwent today, I suspect what you are suffering from is magic sickness. It happens when you deplete your mana or use too much magical energy over the course of a day. You have a higher threshold than most, but it looks like even you are not exempt from Tolls."

What the Screen Master said was beyond Zan's comprehension for the moment. "Simulacrum! What are you fecking talking about?!"

"It means until you recover you will not be able to move without consequences. Unfortunately, the consequences are already affecting you. Considering the nature of the enemy host behind you and the distance allied forces are, I would suggest employing emergency measures."

"What... do you... mean? Measures?" Zan asked, each word a labor, spittle flung loose from Zan's mouth.

"Order affiliates like yourself, Zan, have an ability to call upon emergency sources of power from within yourself, from within the symbiotic entity within your body. It will be an agonizing affair, but it is your only hope. Call upon a small sum of this power, imbue your bike, and force your way through the pass."

Zan didn't like what the Screen Master was saying. Emergency power? "How do I call upon...?" Zan asked, his teeth grinding.

"Speak to your crystalline symbiote. That is all," Simulacrum said, his explanation lacking.

Speak to it? Just speak to it?! THAT was the Screen Master's wonderful plan?

At his back, the wind blew. Zan was frantic. Yet he had to make a decision. Was it worth putting himself in pain? Did he have a choice?

No. I do not have a choice. Zan held his head high. He said to no one except the crystal creature inside of his stomach, "Can you hear me?"

A verbal answer did not come to Zan. The entity within confirmed it could hear Zan by ferociously moving within himself, almost like a baby kicking.

"Okay... please. I need some... magic. Only a bit!" Zan said disorganized.

Another movement. Zan waited.

Then, he felt it. A tiny warmth blink into existence near his heart.

Magic.