Tomney Gulch wasn’t like the other towns scattered across the badlands or the prairie. It was a place perched precariously between two worlds—literally. Built across a yawning ravine that stretched like a jagged scar through the desert, the town bridged the badlands and the Red Prairie, serving as a vital junction for travelers, traders, and Dream Chasers alike.
The gulch itself was a natural divide, a long gash in the earth carved by ancient rivers that had long since dried up. On one side, the dusty, sun-beaten expanse of the badlands stretched out as far as the eye could see, its landscape littered with rocky outcroppings and towering mesas. The other side was the gateway to the Red Prairie, where the land was more forgiving, covered in thick grasses and patches of scrub brush that painted the horizon in vermillion hues. It was here that the railroads snaked their way through the landscape, their long metallic bodies winding through the prairie like veins of iron, connecting the far-flung towns to the rest of Filgaia.
The town itself clung to the edges of the ravine, with rickety wooden buildings perched on either side of the gap like stubborn weeds that refused to be uprooted. A series of precarious wooden bridges spanned the gulch, creaking under the weight of foot traffic, horses, and the occasional wagon. These bridges were the lifeline of the town, connecting the two halves and providing access to the wider world. Below, at the bottom of the ravine, a narrow, dried-up riverbed snaked its way along, filled with debris and the occasional abandoned cart—leftover remnants of ill-fated crossings.
Tomney Gulch was bustling, a hive of activity where traders and dream chasers mingled, exchanging stories, supplies, and the occasional fistfight. The scent of sweat, horses, and roasted meat filled the air, mixing with the dust that was constantly kicked up by the crowds. Despite its rough appearance, the town had a certain charm, a place where the frontier spirit was alive and well, even if it was balanced on the edge of oblivion.
The Bounties and Escapades bulletin board stood in the town square, a massive wooden structure hammered with rusted nails and covered in frayed sheets of paper. Wanted posters flapped in the breeze, each one bearing the stern face of a notorious outlaw or the detailed description of some dangerous creature terrorizing a distant settlement. The board was a magnet for all kinds—mercenaries, bounty hunters, and Dream Chasers like Bass, all drawn to the promise of wealth and adventure.
The people of Tomney Gulch were as hardy as the town itself. They had to be, living in a place where a wrong step off the edge could send you plummeting into the ravine below. Most of the buildings leaned at odd angles, their foundations clinging to the cliffside like stubborn roots. A few stone structures stood on the prairie side, remnants of older, more stable times, but the newer wooden shacks and saloons were a testament to the town’s resilience and its rough, fast-moving nature.
At the heart of Tomney Gulch was the Skyline Saloon, a two-story building precariously perched on stilts that jutted out over the ravine itself. From the saloon’s wide balcony, patrons could look down into the gulch or out across the Red Prairie, a view that made it the most popular spot in town. Inside, the raucous sound of drunken laughter, clinking glasses, and off-key piano music filled the air, drowning out the ever-present creaking of the floorboards beneath.
The town’s layout was a patchwork of haphazard planning, with narrow streets winding their way through the gulch, some leading to dead ends at the edge of the ravine. The town’s main thoroughfare, Gulch Way, ran parallel to the edge of the cliff, offering a dizzying view of the drop below. Vendors set up makeshift stalls along the road, hawking everything from fresh prairie fruits to bullet loads and contraband technology scavenged from the wasteland.
Tomney Gulch was a place where you could just as easily strike it rich as lose everything. A place of opportunity and danger, where the law was often as flimsy as the wooden planks beneath your feet. It was here that travelers from all across Filgaia gathered, their stories intertwining like the bridges that held the town together. And it was here, at the edge of the world, that Bass and Rin found themselves, weighing their next move in a town where destiny had a habit of finding you when you least expected it.
Bass found himself missing Zipper’s constant presence, her boundless energy a contrast to Rin’s dry humor and quiet stoicism. As much as he appreciated Rin’s company, the silence sometimes felt heavier without Zipper’s curious commentary on everything around her. More than that, Bass missed the sense of purpose he got from protecting her, from stepping up and feeling like a knight in some grand story.
That sense of longing tugged at him as he walked through the bustling streets of Tomney Gulch, where dream chasers, traders, and bounty hunters crowded around the open Bounties and Escapades bulletin board. People shouted over each other, trying to snag the latest contracts or find out which dangerous marks were causing trouble across the Red Prairie. The air buzzed with chatter and the clinking of coin, but none of it caught Bass’s attention.
He felt something else pull at him—a different kind of energy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her. A girl who couldn’t have been much older than Zipper, standing awkwardly near the edge of the crowd. She had the look of someone who didn’t belong in the chaos of Tomney Gulch. Her wide-brimmed straw hat cast a shadow over her eyes, but Bass could see the determination in her expression.
Bass blinked, and for just a second, the girl reminded him of Zipper. There was something about her—the innocence, the way she was trying to put on a brave face in a place that could swallow someone whole. His instincts kicked in, that same protective feeling stirring in his chest. He stepped closer, weaving through the crowd to get a better look.
The girl, noticing Bass’s approach, seemed to straighten up as if gathering her courage. She whispered something to the boy, who gave her a nervous nod. When her eyes met Bass’s, she smiled, a sweet but desperate smile that tugged at something deep inside him.
“Excuse me, sir,” she said, her voice soft but clear. “Are you... a Dream Chaser?”
Bass nodded, raising an eyebrow. “Something like that.”
She glanced back at the boy, then returned her gaze to Bass. “My name’s Nisem and I’m looking for help... for my village.”
“A village, huh?” Bass said, crossing his arms, curious now. “What kind of help are you looking for?”
Her voice wavered slightly, but she pressed on. “Brigands. They're planning to raid us soon... maybe even destroy our homes. We don’t have much, but we’ll give what we can. We... we just need someone strong, someone who can protect us.”
Bass studied her for a moment. There was no deception in her eyes, only a plea. She was watching him with wide, hopeful eyes.
“Sorry, miss, but right now this ARM is only for show. No bullets.”
Nise hesitated, then added, almost as if the words had to be dragged out. “We... we also have... Bullet Loads.”
Bass’s heart skipped a beat. Bullet Loads. Ammunition for his ARM. They were rare, valuable, and getting harder to come by, especially with the way his Peacemaker functioned.
“And you'd just... give those to me?” Bass asked, a bit more cautious now.
“Yes,” Nise said, nodding quickly. “Our village... we’ve been saving them. For defense, but... we’re outnumbered. They’d be better in your hands than sitting unused.”
Bass exchanged a quick glance with Rin, who had been quietly observing the whole exchange, one eyebrow raised in that typical Rin fashion. He knew exactly what Rin was thinking—this was a trap. Or at the very least, too good to be true.
But as Bass looked back at Nise, something about her just reminded him of Zipper. Maybe it was the look in her eyes, that same kind of stubborn determination. Or maybe it was just that need to feel like he was doing something right again. He wasn’t sure, but he felt that tug deep inside, urging him forward.
Bass uncrossed his arms and smiled. “Alright, Nise. Let’s hear more about these brigands of yours.”
Nise spoke up as they walked, and told her account to Bass. "The brigands," she said, her voice steady despite the weight of her words, "number thirty mecha cavalry. They have lances... and a few simpler ARMs."
Bass nodded. "Rin needs to hear this."
Bass admired Nise's determination, even as she walked with the younger boy, Toren, at her side. She wasn't the same as Zipper—Zipper had a wild, untamed energy that constantly pushed at Bass's boundaries—but Nise had her own quiet strength. As they followed him through the streets of Tomney Gulch, Bass found himself wondering if this girl had faced down real danger before. She seemed brave enough, but bringing a younger boy into all of this? That gave him pause. The town, bustling with its usual chaos, began to feel a little quieter, as if Bass's mind was already pulling away from it, toward the Red Prairie and whatever troubles lay ahead.
The tavern wasn’t far. Just a few more steps through the dusty streets, past merchants selling wares, and the lively clatter of the town faded. Bass pushed the door open and led the two up the stairs to his room, where he’d bring Rin into this prospect. Rin always had a way of making sense of things, even when they didn’t add up.
When they stepped into the room, Rin was already there, grinning as he admired the repairs made to his coat and hat. Fresh from the tailor's, he looked like he was in a good mood, something that was rare enough to take note of.
"Look who I found," Bass said, motioning to Nise. "She’s got a job for us."
Rin’s eyes flicked over the two newcomers, his grin not fading. "What is job?"
Nise stepped forward, repeating her story to the Crest Sorcerer. Her village was in danger. Brigands. Thirty mecha cavalry with weapons. Swords, pikes, some ARMs.
Rin listened with surprising attentiveness, nodding along, his fingers still toying with the edge of his newly repaired coat.
"More people?" Rin asked, his gaze sharpening.
"We already have three Dream Chasers at the village," Nise said quickly. "All good people. You two would make five total."
Rin paused, eyes narrowing as if calculating something. "If take seven samurai to defeat forty bandits, then take... 5.7 samurai per bandit," he muttered, mostly to himself. "Thirty bandits...five samurai." He snapped his fingers, smiling brightly at his conclusion.
"That work." He looked at Bass. "Job is good."
Bass couldn’t help but smirk at Rin’s strange logic, but if it meant they had a shot, then why not?
Rin clapped his hands together, his earlier joy blending into a focus he reserved for serious matters. "Let’s go then. South, to your village. It’s somewhere on the Red Prairie, right?"
Nise nodded, and with that, the decision was made.
The Red Prairie stretched out before them in every direction, vast and unending. It wasn’t the kind of place you’d want to get lost in, but walking through it had a certain beauty to it that Bass couldn't deny. The land was open and wide, framed by far-off mountains, but what caught the eye most was the dominance of the reddish hues covering the ground. Fields of weeds coated the landscape like a dull red blanket. Up close, they didn’t look all that red—more like a dusty mix of brown and amber. But from a distance, when the wind blew, those same weeds shimmered with a strange, blood-red hue.
Bass ran his hand through the tall grass as they walked, feeling the coarseness between his fingers. “You know why they call it the Red Prairie?” he asked, breaking the relative silence of their slow march.
Rin looked up, curious. “Because of the weeds?”
Bass nodded, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, sort of. They don’t look too red up close, but from far off, the whole place looks like it’s bleeding into the horizon. It’s got that trick of the eye kind of thing. First time I saw it, I thought it was just desert fire blooms, but it’s just these weeds. Pretty clever trick by nature.”
Nise smiled, adjusting the strap on her pack. "I’ve lived here awhile. Never thought much about how the prairie looks from far away."
As they continued their slow journey, the rhythmic crunch of their boots against the dry ground was the only thing filling the air. Occasionally, a gust of wind would sweep past them, sending waves of red across the grass. The trek was quiet for the most part, with Bass in his own thoughts, while Rin seemed to be quietly calculating something, as usual, with that half-smile on his face.
It wasn’t long before they saw the dust trail of horses approaching from behind. Bass turned to see a group of Adlehyde Musketeers, the royal soldiers, riding in formation. Their armor gleamed in the sunlight, and the banners of Adlehyde fluttered from their lances as they passed by without much more than a glance at the party. The musketeers didn’t stop, didn’t ask questions. Just went about their business, leaving behind a cloud of dust as they rode ahead across the prairie. Bass squinted after them, wondering briefly where they were headed but figured it wasn’t any of his concern.
The silence that followed felt heavy. Bored, Bass kicked at a clump of red grass. “So, Nise,” he started, glancing over his shoulder at the girl, “tell me about your village. What’s it like?”
Nise hesitated for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts. “It’s...small. Much smaller than Tomney Gulch, and a lot quieter. We mostly farm and trade, you know. Simple life.”
“Must be hard, though, what with brigands around and all,” Bass prodded.
She nodded. “Yeah. We’ve had trouble before, but this time...it’s worse. That’s why I had to come find Dream Chasers.”
Bass chuckled. “Just stumbled across us, huh?”
Nise shook her head. “Not quite.” She tapped the small wooden stick hanging from her belt. “I’m a kind of diviner. Or douser. I’ve got a knack for finding things—water, mostly—but other things too. Like...people.”
Bass raised an eyebrow. “People?”
“Dream Chasers, to be exact,” she clarified, her tone carrying a certain pride. “I was lucky to find you two in Tomney. I didn’t even have to look long.”
“Well,” Bass said with a half-smile, “guess you got lucky twice then. But don’t expect my ARM to fire any magic on its own.” He patted Peacemaker’s holster lightly.
Nise grinned. “That’s okay. I’m more interested in your ability to defend the village.”
Rin, who had been silent most of the trip, finally chimed in with a thoughtful hum. “Luck, eh? You find Dream Chasers. Not bad. Most villagers, no. Not find.”
Nise blushed slightly, glancing away. “It’s just something I was born with, I guess.”
Rin nodded. “Good skill. Useful. Need that. Let’s hope find luck when trouble.”
Bass didn’t say anything, but he found himself respecting Nise a little more. Anyone who could track down Dream Chasers like her—and get Rin to take notice—was someone worth having on his side.
The village sat nestled in the red prairie, a cluster of wooden houses and makeshift fences surrounded by fields of crops that stretched out toward the horizon. Bass and Rin arrived just before dusk, the sun casting a warm glow over the scene. The villagers, busy with their evening routines, paused to eye the newcomers warily as they entered.
Nise led the two Dream Chasers through the main street, with her brother, Toren, trailing close behind. The smell of wood smoke filled the air, and the sound of distant livestock carried on the breeze. On the surface, the village appeared peaceful, but there was an underlying tension that told Bass trouble wasn’t far off.
“We’re here,” Nise said quietly as they approached a large building at the center of the village. "This is the village of Red Prairie, on Red Prairie."
Standing outside, with an air of authority, was a tall woman, her graying hair tied back into a neat bun. She wore a modest dress, but her sharp, discerning gaze hinted at something more beneath the surface. Her hands were clasped together in front of her, almost too tightly.
“Counselor Oka,” Nise introduced the woman.
Oka’s entire demeanor shifted as soon as she saw them. Her stern expression melted into something softer—almost too soft—and she hurried over to greet them with open arms. “Oh, thank the stars you’re here,” she said, her voice full of warmth and relief. “You must be Dream Chasers Nise told about us.”
Bass wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to her sudden change of tone. He glanced at Rin, who seemed equally unphased but intrigued. Oka, however, continued, her kindness overwhelming. “Please, you’ve no idea how much we need your help. This village… we’ve been through so much. So many sleepless nights worrying. The bandits… they just won’t leave us alone.”
She placed a hand on Bass’s arm, her eyes wide and pleading. “We’ve tried everything to defend ourselves, but we’re just simple folk. We don’t have the strength or the means to fend off such threats. You… you’re our last hope.”
Bass shifted uncomfortably at her touch, but Oka’s desperation was palpable. “We’re here to do a job,” he said carefully, “and we’ll do our best.”
Oka smiled brightly, her hands clasping his tighter for a moment before she pulled away, almost embarrassed. “Thank you, truly. I’ve been so worried about what might happen… but now that you’re here, I feel a bit more at ease.” She turned to Rin. “And you too. We’re fortunate to have someone of your talents as well.”
Rin nodded, keeping his usual silence, but Oka hardly seemed to notice. She ushered them toward the town hall, speaking rapidly. “We’ve prepared everything for you—rooms, food, anything you need. Just ask, and we’ll provide it. You’ll be taken care of for as long as you’re here. We can’t thank you enough for coming to our aid.”
Her words and her hospitality felt almost too generous, but Bass didn’t sense any malice in them. She seemed like a woman desperately trying to protect her people—and willing to do whatever it took to ensure their safety.
“Tomorrow, we’ll introduce you to the rest of the villagers,” Oka said, her voice filled with hope. “But please, rest for now. You’ll need your strength.”
Bass nodded, still unsure of what to make of the woman. But for now, he kept his thoughts to himself. Oka was laying it on thick, but she seemed genuine in her concern for the village. Whether there was more beneath the surface, that would be for him and Rin to figure out later.
Oka’s expression turned grave as she ushered Bass and Rin into the modest town hall. Inside, the flickering light of oil lamps cast long shadows, and she led them to a large wooden table. She sat at the head, her hands folded tightly in front of her, as if steeling herself for what she was about to say.
“I won’t mince words,” she began, her voice steady but carrying a weight of carefully placed emotion. “This village… we’ve been living under the shadow of the Frontier Brigade for as long as I can remember. They call it ‘protection,’ but what it really is… is extortion.” She let the words hang in the air, watching Bass and Rin carefully to gauge their reactions.
Rin’s eyes narrowed slightly, but Bass kept his expression neutral, waiting for her to continue.
“Every year, like clockwork,” Oka said, her voice softening to almost a whisper, “they come, demanding we give them a portion of our harvest. They say it’s in exchange for keeping the roads safe, for fending off bandits and raiders. But we all know the truth—they’d let us be overrun if we didn’t comply.” She sighed, shaking her head, her hands trembling slightly for effect. “We’re not wealthy. Our crops… they barely cover our needs, let alone what we’re forced to hand over to them.”
She glanced up, meeting Bass’s eyes with a pleading look. “This year, it’s different. The harvest was good—too good. They’ll take everything we’ve worked for, and we’ll be left with barely enough to survive the winter.”
“Why don’t you stand up to them?” Bass asked, his brow furrowing.
Oka sighed, her lips pressing together as if the thought alone pained her. “We’ve tried, but what can we do against an armed brigade? They may not be raiders in name, but they’re no different from the bandits that roam the badlands. If we refuse them, they’ll simply take what they want—and likely burn the village in retaliation.” She paused for a moment, allowing the gravity of her lie to sink in. “We’re trapped. We give, or we perish.”
Bass crossed his arms, his gaze darkening. “So that’s why you need Dream Chasers. To protect the village from them.”
Oka nodded slowly, her voice taking on a softer, more desperate tone. “Yes. We need you to help us defend our home. With your strength, we can keep what’s rightfully ours. This village… it deserves a chance to thrive. To sell our harvest at fair prices, not be bled dry by those who claim to protect us.”
Rin spoke up, his voice low and measured. “You say they take. They use force?”
Oka hesitated, a flicker of calculation passing over her face before she answered. “They’ve never resorted to violence,” she admitted, carefully choosing her words. “But the threat is always there. Unspoken, but clear. The moment we refuse, it will come. We can’t take that risk.”
Bass exchanged a glance with Rin, who seemed to be weighing her words. “And if we help you… what happens to the brigade?”
Oka straightened, her eyes gleaming with a carefully constructed mixture of fear and resolve. “We send them away, for good. They’ll learn that we’re not so easily cowed, that we won’t be their victims anymore.”
Her words hung in the air like a dark promise, and for a moment, the room was silent. Oka’s performance was flawless—a masterful manipulation of the truth. She’d cast herself and the village as helpless victims, but Bass couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story. Something about her calculated tone, the way she seemed too eager to paint the brigade as villains, made him uneasy.
But for now, they had a job. And in the end, a job was a job.
Bass stood on the outskirts of the village, staring out across the vast expanse of the Red Prairie. The warm, orange glow of the setting sun bathed the land in a peaceful light, but Bass’s mind was anything but calm. Oka's words rang in his head—there was something about the woman he couldn't shake, a feeling deep in his gut that screamed "no." She’d been too eager, too confident in her pleas for help, and her story felt like it was constructed to pull at his sympathy.
But then there was Nise, a reminder of Zipper. Her innocent determination, the way she looked up at him like he could fix everything—it tugged at him. She was scared, desperate, and Bass couldn’t deny that he felt a responsibility to protect her. It was too familiar. He didn’t want to abandon her.
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, unsure which side of him to listen to. His gut had never steered him wrong, but the part of him that wanted to protect the innocent... that was harder to ignore.
"Thinking again, huh?" Rin's voice broke through his thoughts as the Crest Sorcerer approached, his cloak billowing slightly in the breeze. He looked unusually relaxed, almost eager, which only added to Bass’s unease.
"You really think this is a good idea?" Bass asked, hoping Rin had caught onto the same uneasy feeling he had.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Rin shrugged. "Job is job. Village needs help, we get paid. Simple." He gave Bass a sideways glance, his accent thicker with his usual casualness. "Plus... they feed us. A lot. What’s to think about?"
Bass shook his head, the conflict still gnawing at him. “It doesn’t feel right. Something’s off about Oka. You didn’t hear how she talked to me—like she was too careful with every word.”
Rin nodded but remained indifferent. "Careful, not problem. Careless is problem. Trust gut, but trust wallet more."
Bass chuckled softly, but his mind was still swirling. He glanced over to where Nise was standing, watching him with wide eyes. She gave him a hopeful smile when their eyes met, and something in him softened again. He couldn't just walk away from that look, from that fear in her eyes.
But then, something else caught his attention. He turned as two figures emerged from the village hall, moving toward him. For a moment, he thought he was seeing things, but as they got closer, his eyes widened in disbelief.
Mary.
Zipper.
Bass blinked. It couldn’t be real—Mary, with her sharp eyes and calm presence, was standing before him. And beside her, bouncing with energy, was Zipper, the Elw girl he’d been missing since they parted ways in Tomney Gulch. Zipper ran up to him, grinning from ear to ear.
“Bass!” Zipper shouted, her voice full of excitement. “You’re here! I knew we’d see you again!”
Bass’s heart warmed instantly, a grin spreading across his face despite his earlier hesitation. “Zipper... Mary... what are you two doing here?”
Mary gave him a nod, as calm as ever. “You could ask the same of yourself, Bass.” She crossed her arms, looking slightly amused. “Seems we’re both on the same job.”
Zipper danced around happily, clearly unfazed by the tension in the air. “We got hired to protect the village from the bad guys! Isn’t it great? Now we can all work together!”
Bass looked from Mary to Zipper and then back to Rin, who gave him a knowing smirk. With Zipper’s energy filling the air, and Mary’s steady presence grounding him, the doubts he had about Oka’s intentions began to slip away.
Rin, as always, was ready to move forward. “See? More people. Job is job. And now, friends too.” He tapped Bass on the arm. “You still thinking, or are we working?”
Bass let out a long breath, feeling the weight of his indecision begin to lift. He couldn’t abandon the village—not now, not with Mary and Zipper here. Even if Oka was hiding something, there were people worth protecting in this village, and they needed help.
“Alright,” Bass said, nodding as his resolve solidified. “We’ll take the job.”
Zipper cheered, and Rin gave him a satisfied nod. Mary simply smiled knowingly, as if she’d known all along what Bass would decide.
But even as they began to discuss the details of their plan, Bass couldn’t completely shake the feeling in his gut. Something wasn’t right, but for now, he’d have to trust in his friends—and in himself—that they could handle whatever was coming their way.
The village outskirts were quiet, save for the gentle rustling of the red prairie grass in the breeze. Bass, still mulling over his suspicions about Oka, felt a tug in his chest as he glanced at Nise, who walked beside him with wide, hopeful eyes. Zipper’s energy was a welcome distraction, but his gut still twisted.
Rin, on the other hand, had no such reservations. “Job is job,” he had said, shrugging nonchalantly when Bass voiced his concerns earlier.
Now, with Mary and Zipper unexpectedly in the fold, Bass’s hesitation was waning. Still, something nagged at him.
“We’ve hired one more Dream Chaser,” Oka said, leading them toward the village outskirts. “He’s… not from around here. Came on recommendation.”
As they neared the treeline, Bass spotted a figure leaning against the trunk of a large, twisted oak. His long, dark coat billowed slightly in the wind, and his head was tipped downward, face obscured by a wide-brimmed hat. There was an air about him—dangerous, brooding, and somehow both confident and aloof at once. He seemed more shadow than man.
The figure stirred, pushing off the tree and turning to face them. His silver eyes glinted in the low light, cold and sharp. Slung over his shoulder was a massive Hand Cannon ARM, its barrel thick and black as midnight. He held it as though it weighed nothing, though Bass could tell from a glance that it was anything but light.
“Wolf,” Oka introduced, gesturing to the figure. “He’s the last one.”
Wolf remained silent, his gaze scanning each of them in turn. His lips barely moved as he spoke in a low, gravelly voice, “Grandma said I fight like one. That’s why I’m called Wolf.”
Bass raised an eyebrow, unsure how to respond to that. Rin, however, nodded appreciatively, as though Wolf had just imparted some great wisdom. “Good. Useful name.”
Wolf’s coat flared slightly as he shifted his stance, the faintest smirk curling the corner of his lips. “Names are for purpose. I don’t care what they call me… as long as I get the job done.”
Zipper peeked out from behind Mary, her eyes wide with awe. “He’s scary,” she whispered, though there was more fascination than fear in her voice.
Wolf’s gaze shifted toward the group, finally resting on Bass. His eyes narrowed slightly, as though sizing him up. “You,” he said simply. “You lead?”
Bass blinked. “I—uh—”
“He doesn’t,” Mary cut in smoothly, stepping forward with a dry smirk. “We’re all here for the same reason.”
Wolf tilted his head slightly, as if considering her words, but said nothing more. He swung the Hand Cannon ARM down from his shoulder and rested its massive barrel against the ground with a soft thud. The weapon, which he called “Poledark,” looked like it could punch a hole through a mountain. The name matched the sheer weight and presence of the thing.
“Long as we get paid,” Wolf said, his voice like gravel. “That’s all that matters.”
Bass exchanged a glance with Rin. The group was certainly… eclectic. But with Mary and Zipper on board, and this brooding figure in the mix, the decision was starting to seem clearer. He still didn’t trust Oka, but for now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever happened, he had to see it through.
The pieces were in place. The job was set.
He sighed, looking at Wolf’s “imposing” figure again, before nodding to himself. “Yeah. Let’s get it done.”
The village on Red Prairie buzzed with the activity of hurried preparation. Bass, standing by the makeshift barricades, took in the sight of villagers scrambling to follow the Dream Chasers’ instructions. Despite the tension, something about the scene felt… hopeful. The people were united, working hard to defend their homes, and Bass couldn't shake the feeling that they’d come to the right place at the right time.
Oka, the village counselor, moved among the workers, her voice a soft but assertive presence as she offered guidance and encouragement. Every time Bass saw her, she was doing something for the village: handing out food to the hungry, praising those digging trenches, or gently comforting the nervous. She was the picture of a selfless leader, dedicated to her people.
“Dream Chasers,” she said, approaching Bass with that same warm smile. “I just wanted to say how grateful we are to have you here. Without your help, I don’t know how we’d survive this.”
Bass, usually suspicious by nature, found himself easing into the moment. Oka's gratitude felt genuine, her warmth disarming. He tipped his hat. “We’re just doing what we can. Seems like your people are pretty capable.”
Oka placed a hand on his arm, her touch light but full of sincerity. “We’ve tried to be. But the Frontier Brigade... they’ve taken so much from us. This village barely makes enough to feed ourselves, let alone them.” She sighed, casting her eyes to the horizon. “We’ve been giving them our harvest for years, and we’ve had no choice but to comply. But this time, we’re barely surviving. If they take our supplies, we’ll have nothing left.”
Bass’s heart twisted. It was easy to believe her. The desperation in her voice, the care she showed to everyone in the village—it all lined up with someone who truly needed help. He knew what it felt like to be pushed to the edge. Oka, Nise, Toran—they weren’t asking for much, just a chance to protect what little they had.
“I understand,” Bass said, his voice softer now. “We’ll make sure they don’t get their hands on your harvest.”
Oka’s smile widened, gratitude shining in her eyes. “Thank you, Bass. You don’t know how much this means to us.”
As she moved on to help another group of villagers, Bass felt a renewed sense of purpose. Whatever doubts he had earlier faded into the background. Oka’s story made sense, and he was glad to be on the right side of things.
Nearby, Rin was setting up more magical wards, the tip of his Crest Graph glowing as he worked. Bass walked over, nodding toward Oka. “I think she’s really counting on us.”
Rin, without looking up, muttered, “Good talker. But words not always truth.”
Bass frowned but didn’t press the point. Rin’s pragmatism was a constant, but Bass couldn’t shake the feeling that this time, they were helping people who truly needed it. Zipper and Mary were already engaged with the village’s defense, and with Wolf’s… unique way of rallying the younger fighters, they stood a good chance.
Bass glanced at the villagers as they trained with their makeshift weapons, feeling a surge of determination. They were here to protect these people, and that was what mattered.
For now, that was enough.
As the sun dipped lower into the horizon, casting long shadows across the village, Bass found a rare moment of peace near the well. He had been meaning to catch up with Mary and Zipper. After all, it had only been a day since they’d reunited, but Bass missed their quirky companionship. Mary’s steadfastness and Zipper’s boundless energy were a comfort he didn’t realize he’d come to rely on.
Zipper, perched on the edge of the well, was animatedly showing Mary a peculiar rock she had found earlier. Mary, half-listening, smiled faintly as she polished her katana, her usual quiet concentration evident. Bass approached with a grin, eager to join them.
"Looks like you found another treasure, huh, Zipper?" Bass said, his tone light.
Zipper’s eyes lit up as she turned to him. "Look, Bass! It’s got sparkles! I think it’s from outer space!" She held the rock up proudly, her grin infectious.
Mary chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Zipper finds the strangest things, I swear."
Bass leaned in closer, taking a seat next to Zipper. "Well, you’ve always had an eye for the unique."
Just as he settled into the easy conversation, Nise appeared from behind, her voice interrupting the moment. "Bass! There you are!" she said, her tone bright and urgent. Before he could even react, she had moved to stand right next to him, her body language assertive.
Bass blinked, slightly taken aback. "Oh, hey, Nise. We were just—"
"I was hoping to talk to you about some of the plans for tomorrow," she continued, sliding in closer, clearly trying to pull his attention away from the small group. "We need your insight on the barricades, and there’s a couple of villagers who could use more training on their weapons."
Mary’s eyebrow raised slightly, her eyes narrowing in silent observation. Zipper, oblivious to the tension, just nodded enthusiastically. "Bass is real good with weapons! He’ll fix it all up, no problem!"
Bass hesitated, glancing between Nise, Mary, and Zipper. He didn’t want to brush off his friends, especially not after the chaos they’d all gone through together. But Nise was insistent, practically pulling him away with her words.
"Yeah, I’ll... take a look at it," Bass replied, his voice a little unsure. He glanced at Mary as if seeking her opinion, but she remained silent, simply offering a small, knowing smirk as she continued sharpening her blade.
"Great!" Nise beamed, taking Bass’s agreement as confirmation. "Come on, I’ll show you what we’ve been working on!" She tugged lightly at his sleeve, steering him toward the village perimeter.
As he was led away, Bass shot Mary an apologetic look, but she just gave him a slight nod. Zipper, ever the optimist, waved enthusiastically. "Don’t worry, Bass! We’ll be right here!"
As Nise continued talking about fortifications and plans, Bass couldn’t help but feel a subtle tug of guilt. He hadn’t meant to leave Mary and Zipper behind like that, but something about Nise’s insistence made it hard to refuse.
"Everything okay?" Nise asked, her tone softening a bit as they walked.
"Yeah," Bass replied, though he wasn’t sure how true that was. His mind wandered back to the well, where he felt he should still be sitting with Mary and Zipper, instead of being pulled into something else.
But as they approached the barricades, Bass pushed the feeling aside. For now, there was work to be done.
As Rin wandered through the village, his sharp eyes caught details that most others might overlook. While the locals busied themselves with fortifications and training, Rin moved silently, taking in the subtle signs that this was no ordinary farming settlement. Despite the rustic appearance, the layout of the village felt off. Too structured. Too organized.
He paused near a row of small houses, his gaze flicking to the ground where patches of dirt revealed old stone foundations. A keen observer like Rin could tell these weren’t homes built from scratch—they were repurposed from something much older, something more militaristic. He knelt down, running his hand over the ground, feeling the grooves worn into the stone. Barracks, most likely.
Standing again, he noticed the way the buildings were positioned in tight rows, with paths that would have allowed quick access for soldiers to mobilize. "Hmm," Rin murmured to himself, his brows furrowing. He wandered further, his steps taking him to the central square, where the town hall stood as the tallest building. There, he found more traces—a flat, open area in front of the hall that seemed oddly spacious, as if designed for large formations to assemble.
"This not just village..." Rin muttered under his breath, his accent thickening as he muttered to himself. His eyes darted toward the remnants of what looked like an old watchtower on the outskirts, now crumbled and overgrown with weeds. It was all starting to add up.
The people had done their best to disguise the village as a humble settlement, but Rin knew better. This was once a military camp, probably a supply post or staging area for troops. The way the fortifications were being reinforced now, it was as if the village were reclaiming its old purpose. He doubted the villagers themselves even remembered, but Oka surely did.
Rin wandered past the training grounds where Bass and Wolf were leading villagers through drills, his mind quietly piecing together the truth. His gaze lingered on the cracks in the walls and the faint outlines of what had once been military insignias, now worn away by time. It all made sense—this village wasn’t simply defending itself. It was hiding something deeper.
He spotted Oka in the distance, watching the preparations with a careful, almost calculating expression. Rin smirked to himself. "She knows," he muttered under his breath. "Always knew."
The whole situation reeked of something more than what they had been told. Rin continued his silent inspection, content to gather all the details in his own time. The village was a façade, and now he knew for certain that something more sinister was lurking beneath its surface.
With a final glance around, Rin turned away from the village center and headed back toward Bass. He had seen enough for now.
Rin approached the palisade where Bass was working, his gaze sweeping over the bustling villagers who were hammering nails, stacking wooden beams, and preparing defenses. Bass was in the thick of it, offering instructions while doing his share of the heavy lifting. Sweat trickled down his brow, but Nise was right there beside him, hovering like a hawk. She held a canteen of water, ready the moment Bass looked like he might need it.
Rin kept his expression neutral as he approached. He glanced briefly at Nise, who seemed oblivious to his presence as she smiled sweetly up at Bass. Rin cleared his throat, pulling Bass’s attention from the task at hand.
"Work coming along?" Rin asked in his usual minimalist way, his voice low.
Bass wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "Yeah, we’re getting there. The villagers are tough, they just needed a little push."
Rin’s eyes flicked to Nise again, her ever-present smile not wavering in the slightest. He wasn’t sure how much he could say in front of her, so he tried something more coded. "Deal maybe raw," he muttered, his accent heavier than usual. "Will scout bandits. Count odds. Be back night tomorrow."
Bass paused, catching Rin’s meaning behind the blunt words. He knew Rin well enough by now to sense when the sorcerer was suspicious of something. And while Rin wasn’t being explicit, Bass could feel the undercurrent of doubt in his voice. Rin was suggesting the deal wasn’t what it seemed, that perhaps they were walking into something deeper.
"You sure?" Bass asked quietly, keeping his voice casual as he continued hammering a beam into place.
Rin nodded slightly, his sharp gaze cutting to Nise for just a moment. "Sure. Good to know odds." He turned to leave, but before he did, he added, "Be back soon."
As Rin walked away, Bass watched him go, the weight of his words sinking in. Something was off, that much was clear. But before Bass could fully process Rin’s warning, Nise leaned in with her ever-helpful demeanor.
"You really trust him?" she asked innocently, holding the water canteen a little closer to Bass. "He seems so... secretive. Shady even."
Bass turned to face her, her concern obvious but misplaced. "Rin’s not shady. He’s just... different. Trust me, he’s the last guy you’d want to be on the wrong side of, but when he’s on your side? You couldn’t ask for a better ally."
Nise’s eyes softened a bit, though Bass could still see a flicker of doubt in her expression. "I guess... I just don’t know him like you do."
Bass took the canteen from her and drank, but as he did, Rin’s words echoed in his mind. He didn’t fully understand the coded message, but he knew enough to realize that Rin suspected something bigger was going on. And if Rin was concerned, then Bass had to take it seriously. But for now, he had a village to fortify, and Nise’s eager smile wasn’t making it easy to think straight.
"Don’t worry," Bass said after a moment, his voice confident. "Rin’ll do his part. He always does."
Nise nodded, her gaze lingering on him a bit longer than necessary before she turned to help the villagers. Bass watched her go, feeling the weight of both Rin’s suspicions and his own growing unease about the situation. Something didn’t sit right, but for now, all he could do was trust his instincts—and Rin’s.
Phalanx strode into Tomney Gulch with her usual air of self-importance, her tattered cloak billowing behind her like the wings of some dark omen. The once-bustling town seemed to slow as she passed, the townsfolk casting uneasy glances at the figure wrapped in bandages and the eerie aura that clung to her like a storm cloud.
The wooden buildings that leaned precariously over the ravine seemed to creak louder in her presence, as if even the town itself was wary of this strange woman. Her sharp eyes took in the sights with disdain—the rickety bridges, the dust-covered traders, and the people scurrying about their business like ants too caught up in their own mundane existence to realize their doom was already at hand.
Her steps were slow and deliberate as she made her way through the marketplace, her gaze occasionally flicking to the carts lined with various goods. To her, they were mere distractions—trinkets of a dying world soon to be devoured by the Kuiper Belt. The thought brought a small, satisfied smile to her lips, her sharp canine glinting in the afternoon sun.
“Hey there, miss!” a cheerful voice rang out from her left.
Phalanx paused, her head turning slightly to see a street vendor—a plump woman with a broad smile and a tray full of roasted meat skewers, the smell of sizzling spices wafting through the air.
“You look like you could use a bite!” the vendor said with the kind of warmth only found in small towns like this. “Best in all of Tomney Gulch, I promise! Only a few oz, and you’ll be filled right up!”
Phalanx’s expression darkened instantly. She turned her whole body to face the woman, her cloak rippling in an almost unnatural way as the vendor’s smile faltered under the intensity of her gaze.
“A bite?” Phalanx repeated slowly, her voice dripping with condescension. She took a step toward the vendor, who seemed to shrink back slightly, still holding out the tray of skewers as if it would protect her.
“You dare to offer me food, mortal peasant?” Phalanx’s words cut through the air, her voice rising with each syllable. “You think I need your charred flesh and meager offerings to sustain me?”
The vendor blinked in confusion, her mouth opening to respond, but Phalanx didn’t give her the chance.
“I am Phalanx, Herald of the Stain Paradigm! The one who will bring the Kuiper Belt crashing down upon this pitiful world!” Phalanx’s eyes gleamed with an unsettling light as she loomed over the now-nervous vendor. “Your coins are meaningless, your money inconsequential! When the time comes, the very ground you stand upon will be consumed in the grand feast of destruction! And if I were to require sustenance—”
She paused, her gaze narrowing as she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “—I would not waste my time with your filthy food. I would drain the life force from this planet’s feeble inhabitants, sucking every last breath from their worthless lungs. Their energy will be far more nourishing than whatever pitiful meal you could offer.”
The vendor’s face went pale, her tray trembling slightly in her hands. She took an involuntary step back, her eyes wide with fear as she stared at Phalanx, unable to comprehend the sheer malice radiating from her.
“I— I didn’t mean any offense,” the vendor stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Phalanx straightened, her expression shifting from fury to boredom, as if the woman before her had suddenly become too insignificant to acknowledge. “Of course you didn’t,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “How could you? You’re just a mortal, after all. You cannot possibly grasp the grand design of the Kuiper Belt’s encroachment.”
With that, Phalanx turned and began walking away, her cloak sweeping dramatically behind her. The vendor stood frozen, still clutching the tray of skewers, as Phalanx’s voice echoed back over her shoulder. “Next time, offer your life force instead. It would be a more suitable gift for one such as I.”
As Phalanx disappeared into the crowd, the vendor let out a shaky breath, her legs trembling beneath her. The town resumed its usual bustle, though the uneasy stares followed Phalanx as she continued on her way, her mind already drifting back to her grand visions of Filgaia’s destruction.
To her, the town of Tomney Gulch was just another dot on the map—a place that would soon be consumed by the coming storm. And she, Phalanx, would be the one to usher it in.
The next morning arrived with an unsettling quiet, broken only by the rhythmic hammering of the villagers as they reinforced the barricades. The crimson horizon stretched wide and empty, a landscape full of secrets as much as it was filled with dust and dry winds. Bass stood at the edge of the village, arms crossed, feeling the weight of Rin’s suspicions grow heavier in his chest.
Nise was nowhere to be seen. For the moment, that gave Bass a sliver of peace. He needed to think, to weigh everything he knew so far. Oka’s overly generous welcome, Nise’s pushy friendliness, and the village’s unnervingly organized defenses—it was all starting to pile up.
But that wasn't the worst of it.
Rin had left early that morning to scout the bandit camp. There was something about the way he’d slipped off, like a shadow through the night, that unsettled Bass. Rin’s instincts were sharp. If he sensed danger, there was a good chance something bigger was coming.
As the sun rose higher, Bass heard the soft patter of footsteps behind him. Turning, he found Mary approaching, her sword sheathed at her side, and Zipper skipping along behind her with that boundless energy he hadn’t realized he missed.
"Good morning," Mary greeted, her voice calm as always.
Bass gave a small nod. "You’re up early."
Mary smiled faintly. "Hard to sleep when you’ve got a whole village expecting a war."
Zipper chimed in, practically bouncing. "I was thinking maybe I could summon Zeldukes early, just to give us a head start! What do you think?"
Bass raised an eyebrow at Zipper. "Zeldukes?"
Zipper grinned, proudly holding up one of her Guardian Mediums. "Yep! Zeldukes, the Castle Guardian. He’s massive and can defend anything. If I summon him, he’ll trample right over those brigands—no problem!"
She twirled the Medium in her hands, looking up at Bass with confidence. "Nothing they’ve got can stand up to a Guardian like him!"
Bass chuckled at her enthusiasm but shook his head. "Maybe hold off on that. We don't want to attract too much attention before the real fight."
Mary glanced at the horizon, her sharp eyes scanning the empty plains. "I’ve been watching the villagers. Something doesn’t sit right with me, Bass."
He didn’t need to ask her to explain—he felt it too. There was an unease in the air, a tension that seemed to thrum through the village like a pulse. Bass had been holding onto it ever since Rin’s vague warning the night before, but hearing Mary confirm it only made it more real.
"You think Oka’s hiding something?" he asked, turning to face her fully.
Mary nodded. "She’s too good at playing the victim. Her story feels rehearsed. And I’ve been watching the villagers—they move like trained soldiers, not farmers."
Bass frowned. "Rin said something similar. He found old military foundations under the village. Said this place wasn’t always a farming settlement."
Zipper, picking up on the seriousness in their voices, stopped her skipping and came closer, her bright eyes wide with curiosity. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Mary said softly, "we’re walking into something bigger than just a raid by bandits. Oka knows more than she’s letting on."
Before Bass could respond, a figure emerged from the far side of the village—Wolf. The brooding Dream Chaser moved with purpose, his Hand Cannon ARM slung over his shoulder like a symbol of his strength. His silver eyes gleamed in the light, and he stopped a few feet from Bass and Mary.
"Trouble’s coming," he said in his low, gravelly voice. "Just got word from the lookout—dust clouds on the horizon. Brigade’s moving."
Bass felt his heart quicken. The Frontier Brigade. If Oka’s story was true, this was the moment they’d been preparing for. But now, with everything swirling in his mind—Rin’s suspicions, Mary’s observations, and his own gut instincts—he wasn’t sure who the real enemy was anymore.
Mary’s hand rested on the hilt of her sword, ready as always. "We need to prepare."
Bass nodded, but before he could respond, a familiar voice called out from behind.
"That won’t be necessary."
Oka appeared, flanked by several villagers armed with pitchforks and old rifles. Her face was calm, almost too calm, and her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
"The brigade will be here soon," she continued, her voice dripping with a strange mix of confidence and something darker. "And when they arrive, we’ll show them that this village won’t be bullied anymore."
Bass exchanged a quick glance with Mary, his unease growing. "Oka, you need to tell us the truth," he said, his voice firm. "What’s really going on here?"
Oka’s smile widened, but it was cold. "You’ll see soon enough."
Before Bass could press her further, the sound of hoofbeats thundered in the distance. The Frontier Brigade was coming, their arrival a harbinger of the battle that was about to unfold. The villagers, oblivious to the underlying tension between Bass and Oka, rushed to their positions along the barricades, ready for a fight they didn’t fully understand.
Zipper, sensing the rising tension, clutched Bass’s arm. "What do we do, Bass?"
He didn’t have an answer. Not yet.
As the brigade’s dust clouds loomed closer, Bass felt the weight of the coming conflict settle over him. This wasn’t just about protecting a village anymore. Something far bigger was at play, and he wasn’t sure if they were on the right side.
But with the brigade on the horizon and the village bracing for battle, there was no turning back now.
"Get ready," Bass muttered, his hand resting on Peacemaker. "Whatever happens next, we need to be prepared for anything."
Rin cast the Hide Crest Graph, his form shimmering out of sight just as the "brigands" passed by. They looked more like shabby cavalry than raiders, their armor worn but not threatening. As they rode on toward the village of Red Prairie, Rin narrowed his eyes. They didn’t seem like the brutal marauders Oka described. He decided to follow them when they left the village, certain there was more to uncover.
The four confused "brigands" rode up to the fortified gates of Red Prairie Village, their mechanized horses clanking against the ground. The leader, a middle-aged man wearing an insignia marking him as a colonel, raised his voice, hailing the village. "Chief Harlan! What’s going on here?"
Oka appeared atop the gate, her expression cold. “Harlan has passed on. I am Oka, his wife, and now I lead the village.”
The colonel blinked in surprise. “His wife? I wasn’t even aware the old man had married.”
“That was four months ago,” Oka said curtly.
The colonel shifted in his saddle, eyeing the fortifications uneasily. “Why is the village fortified? The Brigade keeps an eye on these roads. We protect you.”
Oka scoffed. “Protect us? You plunder our harvest every year! The only people we need protection from is you.”
The soldiers exchanged bewildered glances. “Whut?”
They muttered among themselves, unsure of how to proceed. Before they could react, Oka pointed a finger at them. “If you want to take our harvest, you’ll need to bring every man you’ve got and take it by force!”
The soldiers stared at each other, completely unsure of how the situation had escalated so quickly. The colonel, still confused, asked, “Wait... are you sure? This is Red Prairie Village, right?”
“Be gone!” Oka commanded, her voice sharp.
The men loitered, uncertain, and that’s when Wolf stepped forward. His massive Hand Cannon, Poledark, was equipped over his entire right arm, and his face was set in a grim expression. “Enough talk,” he growled.
With a deafening roar, Poledark fired, and the impact created a smoking crater where two of the brigade’s men and their mechanized horses had stood. The remaining soldier scrambled to scoop up his comrade, and the last mecha horse fled into the distance with both men clinging desperately to its back.
The villagers erupted in cheers, but Mary and Bass exchanged wide-eyed looks, utterly confused by the sudden violence. Zipper, too, looked puzzled. “What just happened?” she whispered, not quite understanding.
Rin, watching the fleeing soldiers, cast Air Screen to amplify his speed, the wind whipping around him as he took off after them, determined to uncover the truth.