(Dyn)

  Tome & Key took their positions around the ship, while Dyn and his fellow initiates helped Wedge sort through their remaining supplies, taking stock of anything eveely useful. It took most of the day, but the crew recovered a det amount of the scattered supplies.

  Quinten was the pack for Tome & Key—the member responsible for st the team’s gear with a ste ability. Athrax, Dorian’s rept and the team’s heavy, hadn’t been a perma member, so he’d kept his belongings separate. Unfortunately, those belongings, including his armor, were now lost to the jungle.

  Adding insult to injury, some of the old soldier’s abilities only worked with specific equipment. Without his armor, his bat effectiveness as the team’s heavy would be severely limited—a major blow to Tome & Key’s operational cohesion. Without a dedicated heavy to absorb damage, Ru would have to stay vigint, carefully managing her resources to keep everyone alive, including the initiates.

  Athrax, feeling like a burden from his lost armor, suggested they ask to enlist Medic Echo to help Ru with support. But the captain refused, stating she couldn’t spare their only medic. Also, Medic Echo’s host had been unranked before they died, ironically during a guild trial of their own. She only had a couple of mending abilities, none of which would’ve been any help in bat.

  After the mprian crew had finished sging and hauling the recovered supplies back, they took over as lookouts, freeing up Tome & Key.

  P’resleurned, his noble demeanor overshadowed by a grim expression. As he nded, he gently lowered Spotter Echo’s body from his shoulder to the ground, where it reflexively curled into a tight fetal position. Dyn overheard one of the crew and that the mprian had goo crystalis. The term hadn’t jured this image in Dyn’s mind. From a respectful distance, he examihe mprian, but all he saw was the form of a lifeless skeleton.

  “Your first?” Ostello’s voice cut through Dyn’s thoughts. He appeared beside him, arms crossed and jaw set, the faint st of amber announg his presence before Dyurned.

  Dyn gnced over, unsurprised by the intense elf’s sudden appearance. “My first?”

  “Body.” Ostello’s gaze stayed fixed on his teammate, his posture rigid, brag against some unsee.

  Dyn gnced away, remembering his first night on Mother ons—and the bodies. “No…” he said, shaking his head.

  Ostellarded Dyn’s ued answer with a side gnce. “Not miher.” He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as some of the tension in his body eased. “But it’s his.” He gestured to P’reslen with his jaw. “It doesn’t matter that they probably entered crystalis from the fall, well before he’d set off to find him. He’ll never fet today—his first. I hate that the important lessons always hurt the most.”

  Dyn wasn’t sure he followed Ostello’s pragmatic words. “What lesson?

  The inteurned his head to look down at him. “You ’t save them all.” His jaw tightened, and for a moment, it seemed he might say more. Instead, he turned and walked away.

  With a heavy sigh, P’reslen cast o look at the first person he couldn’t save. Quinten walked up and ed an arm over the drai’s broad shoulder, gently guiding him away from the body.

  “Re you give me a lift back to the nding zone, mate?” Quinten asked, keeping it light as he tried to distract his friend. P’reslen gave a solemn nod, leaning down to scoop Quinten into his arms.

  Quinten held on to P’reslen’s ned said, “Not gonna lie, mate. I kinda like this bit.” He gave him a pyful wink, earning a ugh and a smile from the noble drai, who rolled his eyes. With a relut grin, P’reslen crouched low, ung into the sky with a powerful burst of air, heading back to the nding zoo recover what they could find.

  The rest of Nightshade were summoo the Captain’s Quarters for another meeting. At least the speaker system still worked.

  Ru took a breath. “Alright, here’s the revised pn—”

  “What about P’reslen and Quinten?” Hay’len asked, notig both of them were missing.

  “I’ve already gone over it with my team,” she said. “There’s nothing more we do for the airship repairs. Acc to the captain, they’ll ibalize non-essential systems to get the Everafter flying again. We’ll leave as soon as it’s ready to take to the sky.

  “That means we have two goals to aplish. First, we have to deal with the arc beetle, so it doesn’t shoot us out of the sky again whery to leave—”

  Dyn raised his hand, but didn’t wait to be called on. “I thought you said we shouldn’t fight the arc beetle…?”

  “We aren’t,” Ru said. “We’ll either lure it away or otherwise distract it.” She waved her cwed hand dismissively—that was an issue to be dealt with ter.

  Athrax stepped forward. “If I could just get me bloody armor back, we could give it a go.” He punched one cyberid with his other, the metallig punctuating his words.

  “No one’s fighting the bloody beetle!” Ru growled, gring at them all—an unspoken challenge for them to interrupt her again.

  Athrax stepped back with a low grunt, his cyberic arms crossed tightly. “Fine.”

  “Sed,” Ru tinued, “while we’re waiting for the repairs, we’ll have time to plete our quest—”

  W’itney couldn’t hold their tongue. “You want us to look for a book while we’re being hunted by an arc beetle!?”

  Hay’len shook their head and turo W’itney. “Arc beetles sustain themselves on iferous broad-leaved trees. It’s highly uo be hunting us for food, or even aware of us. To them, we’re the is.”

  “They’re still omnivores,” Eury added. “Never mistake don’t for ’t.”

  Ru’s dwindling patience had run out as she tapped her foot, waiting for them to stop interrupting her. “Wedge, a little help here?”

  “Since when does Nightshade n curiosity? And this is an opportunity for you to grow just as it is for them. Patience is a muscle like any other, only improving with use.” Wedge noticed her exasperated look and turo the initiates. “But… perhaps we could reserve our questions until the end?” He raised his eyebrow, them all a promise.

  Ru closed her eyes for a moment to take a breath and gather her calm. “Either way,” she said, opening her eyes, “we still o locate and track the arc beetle and then figure out how to distract it. Since we’ll already be out there, we keep a for the objective. However, survival takes prece over the quest.

  “We don’t have the supplies to make a forward base, so the airship will serve as our base of operations. Each m, I’ll che with the captain for updates on the repairs. If there’s time, we’ll search the jungle for the arc beetle and the objective, returning to the airship before nightfall.

  “The water filtration system is still operational, and Cook Echo prepare any game we bring back if our food supplies run low,” she said.

  Dyn’s ay was growing, a tight knot f in his stomach. His trunk had been on that murderous pallet ba the nding zone. His hands fidgeted, restlessly pig at his nails as he kept gng toward the horizon, waiting for P’reslen and Quio return.

  “When we go out, it will be as oeam. There’s not enough daylight left for an excursion today, so get some rest. We’ll head out early tomorrow m. That’s all I’ve got,” she said, ending the meeting.

  Today’s ued disaster had taken its toll on everyone. Few words were exged, repced instead by weary gnces and a handful of forced smiles. Even W’itney, usually brimming with energy, was uncharacteristically solemn.

  A door shimmered into view on the ded swung open. Quiepped through, with P’reslen following close behind, both den with armfuls of supplies. Dirt and leaves g to their clothing, evidence of their search.

  “A little help,” P’reslen said to the initiates, nodding toward the portal. Eury and the twins stepped through without hesitation. Quinten approached Dyn, handing over a small bundle of supplies.

  “Found your trunk, mate. This lot’s all that made it, though,” Quinten said, a sad smile. Dyn slung the bag of shells across his chest aed the mud-caked shotgun over his shoulder. Relief washed over him as he spotted the inal pair of pants Charles had given him—sturdy and worn but still intaot even this trial could break them.

  ‘It’s a good thing I ate this m,’ he thought, looking at the small stack of ed loaves sitting in his hand—only three had survived.

  Ru appeared o him, her gaze distant. “Do you still want to know what happened? I’ve learhe hard way that some things are better left unknown. This might be one of them.”

  He straighteo his full five foot nine-and-a-half inches. “If my friend had to live through it, the least I could do is uand what she went through.”

  “Follow me.” Ru led him to the very back of the ship, where she leaned against the railing to keep watch. Deep gouges stretched for miles ier’s wake, like a god-sized ploarted the ground. The air smelled of ed earth and scorched wood. He joined her, resting an elbow on the railing as his gaze followed the trail of destru.

  Without breaking her watch, she asked, “What do you know of mprians?”

  He pced an elbow down on the railing, settling in as he recalled what Nathan had shared with him about the symbiotic people. “They’re one of the mythical races that share a body with a host and take over when the host dies.”

  “Basic, but suct.” Her nose lifted, catg a st on the wind. After a moment, she tinued, deg it wasn’t a threat. “Lamprians need a host because they don’t have a corporeal form. They’re beings of energy. To them, energy, mana, and lifeforce are all the same thing.”

  Hr did his best not to interrupt and just listen.

  “Ohe host’s body dies and their soul departs, the mprian awakens—they’re born. They use their energy to sustain the host’s body, preserving a it if damaged. To avoid burning through their energy too quickly, they enter a dormant state called crystalis. Recovery from crystalis take months, even years.” She paused, giving him time to process and ask a question.

  Dyn straighteo look at her. “Does that… mean they’re immortal?”

  She kept her gaze fixed on the ruined valley. “No. Lamprians have a finite amount of energy over their lifetime. O runs out, they die… like everyone else.”

  “What does this have to do with Echo?” he asked.

  “I don’t think I properly expin the gravity of what Echo did.” Ru hesitated, tapping her cws lightly on the railing. “While crystalis is defensive corporally, it leaves them vulnerable to other mprians.” Her voice dropped, relut to tinue. “She performed nekralis on the inal Meic Echo…” She gripped the railing, her cws pitting the wood.

  When Ru didn’t immediately tinue, he asked, “What does that mean?”

  “I’m getting to that part. There’s no kind way to describe it. You have to uand—they’re creatures of pure energy. And nekralis is highly addictive…” Her voice trailed off as she struggled to expin cepts she, herself, didn’t truly uand. “Something about the expansion of energy and adding to their collective life experience.

  “Echo ed the crystalis, abs the remaining energy and killing the other mprian in the process.” Ru shifted unfortably, speaking so casually of murder. “She retains all the memories, knowledge, and abilities of both hosts.”

  “She’s far too dangerous to be around other mprians. Now, she has to live with an insatiable craving for the rest of her miserable existence. Lamprians have a way to detect when one of their own has gohrough nekralis and will actively avoid her. Food reason, too. Those who give into nekralis eventually grow strong enough to overwhelm mprians outside of crystalis.”

  “Holy shit,” he said, not knowing what else to say.

  “Echo has murdered one of her own and turned herself into a monster, so that we have a ce to fix this ship aurn home.” Ru turo face him, waiting for him to notid meet her gaze. “You’ve got a big heart that loves easily and makes friends quickly.”

  Dyn smiled, taking her words as kind.

  Ru frow his ignorahat wasn’t a pliment.” His smile was repced with uainty.

  She sighed. “I was also cursed with a big heart; a rge target that’s easy to hit and hard to break—but devastating when it does. Big hearts e with big feelings, and not all of them are kind. Be careful around Echo. She’s not your friend anymore.” Her voice softened as the words lingered. He shifted uneasily, turning her warning over in his mind.

  He pushed himself off the railing, the weight of her words pressing down on him as he walked away. Behind him, Ru remaiill, her gaze fixed on their exposed fnk as the sun touched the horizon.

  Today was a lot to process. Aric-bug type kaiju shot their only mode of transportation out of the sky with a siack, causing them to crash-nd in the middle of nowhere, and stranding them in a dense jungle. He’d narrowly avoided being a people pancake by his own luggage. Teically, that meant fk had quite literally tried to kill him—a betrayal he wouldn’t fet.

  It’d be a couple of weeks before anyone khey were missing. Their expedition wasn’t scheduled to return to Nightshade for at least nine days. A rescue mission would take at least another four-and-a-half days to get to them; the same time it’d takeo reach their destination.

  He did some quick math in his head, frowning at the results. Best-case sario: three servings of fk would have to st him eighteen days. Worst-case sario: he’d find out what happens when he ran out of resets as he deathlooped his way through starvation. While Deathloop Dyn had a catchy ring to it, that’s not how he wao go out.

  That meant his only hope was his friend, Echo, who’d been asked to murder one of her colleagues and, literally, take their pce as the ship’s meic. Her promotion came with a bigger body, rauma, and an uhy craving to devour other mprians. An energy vampire—they turned his friend into a god damned energy vampire.

  Today sucked.

  Dyn found himself standing in front of his , though he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten there. His legs felt heavy, his mind foggy—a result of the adrenaline crash—but it didn’t matter. He just wao crawl into his hammod fall asleep before anything else terrible happened.

  After cheg the shotgun was unloaded, he ed it as best he could without field stripping it. The light metal felt cold and gritty in his hands, and his room smelled of mud and oil. He id down in all his gear, clutg his remaining fk tightly against his chest. He was tired of losing things.