Octavia wasn’t sure if she was awake or not.

She couldn’t feel anything. She couldn’t hear anything. She could barely even form a comprehensive thought.

Her heads-up display was steadily blinking red in front of her eyes, informing her of the damage she had suffered. Her Guardian suit was compromised, its power core burnt out and unable to recharge itself, and the armor itself had taken significant damage during the fall. Flickers of glitching patches appeared throughout her display as it tried desperately to present information to her.

One box in the corner displayed her vitals. Every inch of her body was in the red, with a multitude of fractures and internal damage that the armor couldn’t repair. Despite the fact that she was certain she was still alive, her armor seemed to think differently; her pulse flatlined before her very eyes, and numerous warnings danced across her screen in a dizzying array of red.

Red.

It was the only color she could see.

She couldn’t move her neck to look anywhere else, but she could see the sickening red light of Oculus looming ominously above the canopy of the jungle she had landed in. Even beyond her damaged display and the multitude of warnings, the gas giant shined down on her until it was all she could see. Her heads-up display faded away, the inside of her helmet at the edges of her visor disappeared, every last ounce of perception faded from view until there was only one thing she could comprehend.

Red.

Oculus stared down at her without an ounce of care or mercy, its gaze boring through Octavia’s eyes and violating her mind. With her body broken and her mind aloft in a sea of dreams, she fell into Oculus’s glare once again. She briefly recalled the trance she had fallen into the first time she laid eyes on the crimson gas giant, but those memories were quickly chased away.

She found it harder and harder to keep a track of what was real and what wasn’t. Her memories fled from her mind as she tried to grasp at them, leaving her drifting in uncertainty. As her thoughts swirled together into loss itself, all she could recall was that omnipresent red light looming over her head like the eye of a god.

Who was she? What was her purpose there? Where even was she? The answers to her questions escaped her grasp like so many a grain of sand slipping between her outstretched fingers. None of it mattered anyway. All that mattered was the omniscient god of destruction.

Oculus.

In the crimson gaze of the giant above her, she saw the entirety of creation laid out before her. Everything from the beginning of time to the end of time was within her grasp - but the red haze promised the end of all things. Reality itself was consumed by a racing red tide of nothingness, destroying everything down to its constituent pieces.

Oculus promised destruction. It promised annihilation, oblivion. It promised the death of all things, the death of concepts, the death of all.

As the red haze stretched into her brain, its power sinking into the very fabric of her material form, she felt the last vestiges of reality fall away from her. The color of Oculus’s red surface became all-consuming until it was the only thing that was left. Then, even the color faded into nothingness until there was nothing left to perceive and feel, nothing left to comprehend.

Octavia was at peace.

“The time for rest is not now, my child,” a voice tore through the darkness of her void like a clap of thunder, one which called to her from the depths of the void itself. Her voice was that of a mother, of a choir, of a chorus of angels calling home the valiant dead. She was perfect.

But if not now, when? Octavia wondered as she floated through the void, the shadowy wisps of oblivion beckoning her ever-deeper into the abyss.

“Never,” came her voice.

But I am so tired. Octavia admitted, her mind crying out for release as she swam through the shifting whirlwind. Even with the chemical cocktail burning through her veins and the nanomachines working overtime, she was exhausted and wanted nothing more than rest.

“But you have so much work left to do,” the voice replied, her bell-like tone piercing the veil as Octavia drifted in the darkness.

I am not strong enough. Octavia responded quietly, her own echoing tone carrying with it her trepidation and worries. The darkness threatened to consume her, its snaking tendrils curling around her mind as it tried to pull her within its maw.

Somewhere above her in the shapeless void, a single tiny mote of light burned within the darkness. A tiny point, infinitesimal and insignificant, shone with the brightest light that Octavia had ever seen in her life. In a galaxy devoid of stars, it was a single glowing beacon at the end of time when all other beacons had gone out. It was beautiful.

From out of the pinhole of light came a woman whose features were obscured in the glare of the brightest light to ever grace reality. A silhouette of a woman whose hair flowed behind her in an ethereal crown, with wings of stars that spread out across reality behind her, containing within them galaxies upon galaxies. Her arms reached out through the void towards Octavia, the light blinding her from the true visage of the woman of light in front of her.

As the galaxy-sized hands cupped beneath Octavia, she felt life flow into her with warmth the likes of which she had never felt before. Every fiber of her being snapped alight, but rather than pain and agony she felt alive and energized. Somewhere outside of the void, she drew in a breath, filling her burning lungs with life-giving air.

“But I believe you are,” came her response as she cradled Octavia within all of creation, her voice the whisper of life echoing through the darkest recesses of her mind.

Octavia’s eyes shot open instantly, her retinas burning as light filtered in through her helmet. Her lungs ached from however long she hadn’t been breathing, the burning sensation seeping through her deactivated pain receptors and the chemicals that coursed through her body. She heaved in lungfuls of air as she blinked, gazing off into the green hell that awaited her in the waking world.

“Octavia!” Mack exclaimed in relief, her voice on the edge of a sob.

“You’re back!” Vita exclaimed, the shock evident in her tone.

Octavia couldn’t speak yet, but she knew she couldn’t stay where she was. Sucking in a breath, she forced herself to roll over onto her hands and knees, balancing herself in the mulch as she lifted herself off of the ground. With her paws planted firmly in the wet ground, she pushed out of the jungle underbrush with her hands, lifting herself on unsteady legs until she was standing above the thick tangles of vines and broad-headed leaves.

Taking a moment to clear her throat, Octavia took stock of her immediate area. It was a twisting and unending labyrinth of tangled vines suspended between enormous trees and waist-high underbrush. Every direction looked the same, and even as she turned her gaze skywards she couldn’t see a single inch of blue through the dense canopy overhead. She could hear the calls of animals coming from all directions, and thick swarms of bugs flew this way and that, creating a dizzying cacophony of life all around her.

“What’s my bearing?” Octavia asked firmly, drawing from a well of determination she hadn’t known she had. She felt a lingering warmth in her back where she had felt the touch of life and found herself longing for the phantom cradle once again. Somehow she knew the only way to return to its touch was to push forward.

“North,” Vita replied instantly, a compass appearing at the top of Octavia’s retinal display. The armor may have been dead, but her own cybernetics were clearly still functional, which was a fact that Octavia felt no small amount of gratitude for.

Octavia turned until she faced north, the compass pointing the way forward as she peered off into the identical stretch of jungle that lay before her. She had no idea how far she had to go, or whether or not her team was even still alive. But she suddenly found herself walking forward, her paws sinking into the wet soil with each step. She was going to get to the crash site whether it was possible or not.

The scenery around her never changed as she walked blindly northwards. All of the trees around her looked the same, the underbrush was thick enough that there was no way to distinguish one section from another, and the canopy never thinned out enough for Octavia to get a glimpse of the sky. She had the sensation that she was wandering endlessly through a plane of limbo, left to wander for eternity in repentance for her sins. Somehow she found the strength to keep her pace up despite the lack of visible progress.

She had lost track of how long it had been and how far she had walked, the monotonous pace of one paw in front of the other had done wonders for quieting her mind. After a while though, she began to feel something different. Her hackles were beginning to stand on end, and she couldn’t shake the sensation that she was being watched.

“Hostile?” Octavia asked quietly within the tomb-like silence of her helmet.

“Not sure,” Vita replied quietly, “Our radar says something is there, but I can’t get a read on it.”

“It keeps jumping around somewhere behind you. I think it’s the same interference as with the radio,” Mack added cautiously.

Octavia frowned for a moment and paused in her step, letting her paws sink into the muck. She slowly turned and looked behind her, peering into the green veil that surrounded her. She couldn’t see anything amidst the underbrush and thick, hanging vines, but she couldn’t shake the sensation that something was there. She brought her own radar up into the corner of her retinal display and eyed it for a moment. There was indeed something jumping around somewhere in the brush in front of her, but the interference made it impossible to guess where it actually was.

She reached for the A8 pistol on her hip and curled her fingers through the guards, gripping the sidearm tightly. With a faint metallic snap she removed it from the magstrip on her thigh and peered out into the dense junglescape with narrowed eyes. The pistol vibrated briefly, signaling it was at full charge - she glanced down at the digital readout on the back of the pistol to confirm that the plasma recycler read 100%.

Satisfied, she raised the pistol and pointed it blindly in the direction of the blinking dot in her radar feed. Octavia pulled the trigger. A superheated blast of purple plasma streaked out of the pistol, draining the percentage several digits before it began to instantly recharge. The blast easily tore through the underbrush, evaporating leaves and stems before it finally impacted into a tree which exploded into a brief cloud of wooden shrapnel. A loud creak sang through the jungle as the tree began to fall the opposite direction, crashing to the jungle floor a few moments later with a resounding thud.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Staring at the destruction in front of her, Octavia’s eyes darted left and right, searching for whatever it was that was stalking her. She didn’t have to look far as something black darted through the small clearing she had just created. She quickly turned her pistol towards the shape and pulled the trigger again, sending another bolt of plasma streaking through the undergrowth. A line of evaporated flora carved through the jungle away from her, but once again it didn’t impact anything of significance.

Suddenly the air in front of her warped and she barely had a moment to comprehend that something enormous and furry was falling towards her. She swung her pistol arm upwards only for a jaw to clamp down on her forearm, razor-sharp teeth digging into the armor plating there. Octavia cried out as an enormous weight crashed into her and sent her sprawling to the ground beneath the beast.

Her world was overwhelmed with snarling and barking, the sound of teeth clacking together directly in front of her face as the beast let go of her arm and began snapping at her head. White canines scraped against her visor and black fur blotted out her view of the green hell around her, and yet she found that the chemicals coursing through her system were preventing her from panicking. As the surprise faded, she fell into a deadly calm as the world outside of her armor slowed.

Its jaw had closed around her head, its fangs digging into her helmet from all sides. She had a clear view down its gullet as it tried its very hardest to bite her head off. But it had let go of her gun arm. She brought her hand up in slow-motion and pressed the barrel to its side with steely determination. Octavia pulled the trigger.

Suddenly the beast was no longer on her, the weight removed from her entirely as the world in front of her was filled with blinding green again. Her bolt of plasma streaked off into the air and seared through the canopy above, giving Octavia a clear view of the blue sky that lay beyond. Without wasting a moment she pushed off of the ground with her opposite hand and rolled onto her stomach where she swiftly pushed off of the ground with her hands and scrambled to her paws. The world was still slugging by her at a crawl, her motions felt slow and heavy as she struggled through the diluted perception of time her combat suite offered her.

Directly in front of her was the beast. It reminded her vaguely of some sort of a wolf from Earth, but it was far too big and muscular to be a wolf. It stood easily an entire head taller than her, and was currently crouched. She wasn’t sure how big it would be if it were standing upright, but she had no intention of sticking around to find out. The enormous canine had its lips pulled back in a snarl as it pushed off of the ground with its hindlegs and launched towards her at a frightening speed even with her diluted perception of time.

Octavia raised her pistol deftly and fired off a lance of plasma towards the creature as it bounded towards her. It disappeared in mid-air with a brief flash of an eerie shade of blue, causing her plasma bolt to sear through the air where it had been. In the right corner of her vision she saw a second flash of blue appear in mid-air at the exact same time, and from the second flash came the enormous shadow of the creature. Octavia had to dive forward to avoid being tackled from the side.

Keeping her arms in front of her, Octavia braced her hands against the soft ground and allowed her momentum to carry her forwards into a roll. Her world swirled around her in response to the maneuver as she scrambled to her paws once again, pushing out of the roll as fast as her paws would carry her in the soft ground. She kicked up twin trenches of dirt from behind her as she powered off of the ground, sprinting north as every ounce of her focus was diverted towards the muscles in her legs.

“Is that fucking thing skipping?” Mack asked in shock.

“No traces of Alarium - I think it’s teleporting,” Vita added hastily.

“That’s impossible, right?” Mack remarked, abject disbelief heavy in her voice.

“Apparently not!” Octavia shot back mid-stride.

The world raced by her as she sprinted around trees and through shrubs, her arms swinging on either side of her as she powered through the underbrush. A fallen log in front of her was vaulted, she sailed over a divet in the ground and landed on the far side, an exposed rock was used as a springboard as she leapt herself off of the ground and sailed through the air. The air in front of her flashed blue, and suddenly she was face-to-face with the creature once again.

They collided in mid-air and crashed to the ground in a heap of teeth, claws and fur as they began to scramble for dominance. The canine’s mouth darted for her throat. Her pistol hand was pinned to the ground by one of its massive paws. Her opposite arm came up and placed itself within the creature’s mouth, preventing it from clamping down on her throat.

It twisted its head, wrenching Octavia’s arm this way and that effortlessly as it tried to rip her limb from limb. Octavia struggled to twist her pistol around, pulling the trigger only for the bolt of plasma to immediately impact the ground and kick up a small explosion of dirt and moss. She groaned as she pushed her knees up as hard as she could into the underbelly of the creature, planting her paws flat on its stomach as she tried to wrench herself out of her position.

The creature suddenly disappeared as a deafening explosion ripped through the air nearby, freeing Octavia’s view. She once again rolled over to her hands and paws and scrambled to stand, peering around the immediate area. The creature had reappeared a few feet away and was charging, not at her, but at someone else.

“Is that…” Vita began.

“An amaranthian?” Mack concluded.

On the other side of the clearing was undoubtedly an amaranthian woman, garbed in light hide clothing. She had dark grey fur with an unfamiliar pattern of black fur, and in her hands was a primitive wooden bow notched with an arrow at full draw. Over her shoulder was a leather quiver full of arrows, and she had a backpack hanging from a low branch directly behind her that was of similar primitive quality.

Octavia didn’t have time to consider the implications as the beast charged at her savior. She swiftly raised her pistol and burst into action, firing a lance of plasma at the creature as it charged. The plasma once again hit nothing as the creature disappeared in a flash of blue, but the other amaranthian seemed prepared. She twisted on her paws and raised her bow in a seemingly random direction.

A moment later the air flashed blue where she was facing. The amaranthian hunter uttered something under her breath which Octavia could see but couldn’t hear, and to her astonishment the arrow she held began to glow a vibrant green light from within. The beast leapt out of the blue flash at the same time as the amaranthian let loose her glowing arrow.

A narrow lance of vibrant green streaked from the hunter’s bow and impacted the beast squarely in the chest. The lance erupted into a brilliant explosion of green, a shockwave bursting through the jungle at the impact. Leaves were blown away, branches broke, the underbrush leaned in the opposite direction from the epicenter and Octavia had to shield her eyes from the brightness. She lowered her arm after a moment as the shockwave dissipated and found all was quiet within the jungle, with the beast laying dead in the underbrush like a boulder of fur and muscle with a single arrow protruding from its chest where a river of blood was slowly seeping from the wound.

Octavia stared in silence at the dead beast that had nearly killed her - all the technology in the world and she couldn’t land a single blow against it. She slowly trailed her eyes towards the arrow that was sticking out of its chest and she couldn’t push back the sinking feeling that was plaguing her stomach. All of that had been ended by an arrow. She slowly turned her gaze towards the huntress.

The huntress was aiming her bow at her.

Not wanting to see what would happen if she were the target of that arrow, Octavia slowly brought her hand down to her hip and stuck her pistol against the magstrip there with a distinct metal clink. With her hands free, she slowly raised her arms with her palms facing outwards, refusing to move anything else for the moment. The huntress similarly remained still, eyeing her from across the grove with narrowed eyes.

“Naeo nay hal fashtan?” the huntress called out, staying stock still with her hands firmly gripping her bow.

“What language is that?” Octavia asked quietly, unheard within the confines of her helmet.

“Don’t recognize it, Octy,” Vita replied quickly.

“Not Federation, that’s for sure,” Mack added affirmatively.

A beat of silence passed as Octavia stood there, unsure what to do in the situation. She could see that the huntress was getting agitated, her tail swishing from side to side behind her and her ears pinned back against her skull. At best Octavia figured she was trespassing on the huntress’s grounds. At worst, Octavia hoped that she hadn’t forced the huntress to kill a revered animal.

“Naeo nay hal fashtan?” the huntress called out once again, her voice raising as she took half a step forward with a furious expression.

“Where’s her neurolink?” Vita asked suddenly.

It was then that Octavia noticed; the other amaranthian had no visible cybernetics. There was no neurolink port on her temple, her eyes weren’t clearly synthetic, and she couldn’t see any other exposed cybernetics on her body. Despite the drugs coursing through her system, Octavia couldn’t suppress the shock she felt upon her realization.

“What’s an unmodified amaranthian doing here?” Mack asked in shock.

Sensing her time was dwindling, Octavia quickly reached for her helmet and gripped the sides. She twisted it, creating a metallic hiss as the pressure seal was broken. Pulling off the helmet, Octavia’s senses were assaulted by the sheer heat and humidity that awaited her on the other side of her armor. She was instantly drenched in sweat more than she already was, and the earthy scent of the jungle around her made her nostrils itch faintly.

The amaranthian on the other side of the grove blinked in clear surprise, her tail coming stock still as her eyes went wide. Her ears perked up and tilted forward, facing Octavia in undivided interest. The huntress’s draw arm fell slack, disarming the bow as she slowly let it lower to her waist as Octavia lowered her helmet into the crook of her elbow.

Octavia couldn’t imagine how she looked to the other amaranthian. Blood stained the sandy fur around her lips, her coarse fur was slicked back with sweat, and her cybernetics were on full display. Were the roles reversed, Octavia was sure that she would see herself as some sort of angel or demon from the annals of her mythological tales.

“Gashtal?” the huntress asked with a curious tone, her head tilting slightly to the side in fascination.

Octavia didn’t reply. Instead she began to cautiously walk forward, presenting herself to the other amaranthian without a word. She kept a close eye on the huntress’s bow, but she didn’t seem to be jumping into a hostile stance. Octavia came to a stop a few feet away from the huntress and was surprised to find that she was looking down on the primitive amaranthian. She had to admit that it was a strange sensation to be looking down on anyone.

The huntress took a tentative step forward as she peered up at Octavia with inquisitive green eyes, peering at all of Octavia’s features. Her gaze lingered on the cybernetic port in Octavia’s temple, her expression shifting into one of unfettered curiosity and disbelief. With such proximity, Octavia could tell that the amaranthian in front of her was even younger than she was herself, but she had such a muscle tone that Octavia could easily believe that hunting such anomalous creatures was an everyday activity for her.

“Gashtal,” the huntress spoke again, though this time with conviction. She pointed at herself, then she pointed at Octavia, only to point back at herself, “Gashtal,” she insisted.

Octavia hesitated for a moment before she nodded once and replied, “Gashtal.”

The amaranthian’s eyes lit up and her expression raised, her ears perked skywards as her tail began to sway excitedly behind her. She all-but bounced on her paws in excitement as she gazed up at Octavia with a look of uncompromising wonder. She suddenly pointed at herself enthusiastically and exclaimed, “Enya!” before pointing at Octavia expectantly.

Octavia hesitated for a moment, unsure that she understood it, but she finally pointed at herself and said, “Octavia,” with an unsure tone.

Enya, the amaranthian huntress, suddenly perked up excitedly as her maw split into an unbelievably wide grin. Her excitement seemed to double as her tail swished behind herself even quicker than before, and without breaking her grin she pointed behind herself towards the northeast.

“Gashtal-fashtan!” Enya exclaimed. She must have noticed Octavia’s confusion because she immediately pointed at herself, then Octavia, then herself and made a wide circle with her hand. She brought her hand up to the side of her head and tilted her head, miming falling asleep, only to raise her head excitedly and bring up a phantom morsel to her mouth which she mimed biting into. She dropped her hand and exclaimed again, “Gashtal-fashtan, nae yemo talvash!”

“I think she wants to take us back to her village,” Vita remarked curiously.

Octavia frowned slightly and shook her head once, which caused the amaranthian in front of her to deflate slightly. Octavia pointed up at the sky and replied, “Gashtal-fashtan,” which drew the huntress’s gaze skywards with a curious look. Octavia pointed at herself, held her hand up above her head and slowly brought her hand down until she made a child-like explosion sound with her mouth at waist-height.

Enya watched the display, her features shifting first to curiosity, then to disbelief before finally settling on wonder. She let out a gasp and pointed at the dead creature to their side, “Iaton vashar, gashtal neh?” she asked, raising one of her brows curiously.

Octavia could only shrug, not sure what the huntress meant by that. She glanced over at the creature, then turned her gaze back towards the girl and gave another shrug and an awkward expression. She couldn’t help but scoff slightly as the huntress rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Iaton,” Enya repeated as she strode over and pointedly poked the corpse. Then she straightened and brought a thumb up to her throat and slid it across in a universal symbol for death, “Vashar.”

“I think she’s wondering why you couldn’t kill it,” Vita wondered aloud, though she didn’t sound certain.

“Look, I don’t know, kid,” Octavia replied with an exaggerated shrug. She pointed to her pistol and shook her head, “This didn’t do the job and I can’t make lances of green energy shoot out of a bow and arrow.”

Octavia’s answer only seemed to confuse the young huntress who’s face contorted into a confused expression. She glanced down at the creature, then at Octavia before she finally spoke up, “Gashtal-fashtan, neh. Gashtal hal taval?” she asked, her head tilting slightly to the side once again.

Octavia frowned slightly, but after a moment she pointed at the huntress, “Gashtal, fashtan,” she then pointed towards the direction that she had directed before. The huntress nodded in response. Octavia then pointed at herself, “Gashtal, fashtan,” she then pointed towards the sky. Once again the huntress nodded.

“Hal taval?” Enya prompted, making an open-palmed shrug as she exaggeratedly looked around as if searching for something.

“Ah,” Octavia replied with a slight scoff. She pointed towards the north as she replied, “Hal taval,” she remarked with a nod.

Enya suddenly began giggling, shaking her head with a wide grin. She quickly replied, “Taval, neh hal,” she added. Despite not understanding, Octavia couldn’t help the blush that raced to her cheeks as she was teased by this young huntress.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Octavia replied with a roll of her eyes, pointing north once again, “Taval, I think. That’s the direction I’m going.”

Enya’s laughter slowly died down as she shook her head in amusement, her grin never leaving her face. With a small shrug, she let out a sigh and walked over to the body. She gripped the arrow in her hand and with a solid tug she pulled it out of the corpse, causing a small spurt of blood to escape the wound. She visibly inspected the arrow for a moment before wiping the blood off on her pant leg, then she slipped the arrow back into her quiver and looked over her shoulder towards Octavia.

“Octavia taval, neh iaton vashar. Octavia neh taval,” she spoke, her grin turning into a playful smirk, “Meh Enya iaton vashar, Enya taval. Enya nae yemo taval gaton Octavia!” she declared with an excited pep in her tone. Suddenly she began to stride off north with a spring in her step.

“I think she wants to travel with us,” Mack suggested curiously, “If I’m following this at all, that is.”

“I think you’re right,” Octavia replied with a curious gaze. She eyed the corpse for a moment and got the sense that the young huntress had just offered to escort her wherever she was going. While she didn’t enjoy the idea of staying around a primitive for any longer than she needed to lest she become some sort of mythical figure to them, she also knew that she wouldn’t survive another encounter with one of those beasts.

Swallowing her fear, Octavia took a breath and quickly set out, trekking after the young amaranthian huntress. The world she had landed on was far more complicated than she ever would have thought, and the idea of having an experienced guide gave her some semblance of peace. Setting out in a jog to catch up, Octavia called out, “Hey! Wait up!” as she closed the distance between her and her guide as they began making their way north.