On the outskirts of M?ry’Plu, rangers from squads beyond just the Voltasaxx squad congregated along a fortified perimeter. They were checking the numerous motion sensors, Kyyr radial sensors, cameras, concussive mines, and other equipment that the Voltasaxx squad had been setting up over the last couple of weeks.

  Among the many freshly arriving rangers, a silver-haired man studied the map data provided. His once refined, sharp beard had become unkempt, with his hair grown long and tied into a disheveled knot. Dark circles sat under his once proud eyes as he reviewed the details to an obsessive degree.

  Siegwick Strand was unsettled.

  The Gilded Forest of Hor’Dio was infected—rotting from within by a sickness so dark and deep that even the most seasoned of rangers had failed to realize the depths of its infection. But there was something worse that was tugging at his thoughts—a revelation that had only come to light that morning.

  Morray walked into the Stolkglider, its reinforced hull humming quietly with air conditioning. The glider loomed like a crouched beast, its armored plating glinting with dull gray and gold, its twin artillery mounts perpetually scanning the forest’s edge.

  Inside, the air was thick with the scent of dubious substances. Siegwick was slumped over a large curved desk, the harsh glow of multiple monitors painting deep creases into his tired face. He didn’t look up. He just stared at the pages in his hands—classified reports marked from Heilagj?tunn.

  Morray cleared his throat. “Siegwick…” he softly called out.

  The silver-gray man didn’t turn around. “Did you read the report?” Siegwick asked with an edge of desperation.

  “I skimmed the abstract on the way here,” Morray replied, pulling out his crystalcomm. “But what does multiple strains even mean in this context?”

  Siegwick finally stirred, shifting just enough to glance at a notification on one of the many monitors. “Based on the samples from Gorgest Peninsula, the infection there is carnal—attuned to the flesh.”

  He tapped a tablet, pulling up a blurry image of a strange amphibious organism. Its head split ajar with long, familiar, spiraling tongues spread out against a white background. “Unlike the strain that infects the Ordovis region. There, the abyssal vector is…parasite. They’re roughly 5 millimeters long—not microscopic, but small enough to where they’re hard to see with the naked eye.”

  Morray studied the creature on display. “Any other abyssal infections similar to this?”

  “Yes,” Siegwick’s voice dropped, “It’s similar to the Fobromorphs from the Takxan Accounts.”

  Morray read along the report, popping a pill down his throat, “What a pain…” he muttered.

  Siegwick caught him downing the pill, his eyes filling with unbridled rage. Like a storm breaking, he rose from his seat and grabbed Morray by the scruff of his uniform. “You fucking coward! You’re taking Primdreine!?”

  Siegwick was as pale as a corpse; the once composed and stoic man had been lost somewhere in the terrible passage of time.

  Morray stared into his eyes painfully. “I’m tired Siegwick…”

  That single phrase deflated the air between them. Siegwick’s grip held strong, but his expression cracked. His anger drained and twisted into miserable revulsion.

  “Tired?” his voice trembled. “You’re tired? THEN WHAT THE HELL AM I?”

  He practically growled, shaking Morray. “Do—do you have any idea what it’s like—knowing my son and granddaughter are being puppeted around by those things? HUH?!”

  He yanked Morray closer, his voice rising into a near-shout. “What if someone fails to get a genetic tag? What if that red monster of yours eats them without us ever knowing? I read the reports, Morray. The Coarseblood got out and devoured some Caused in the forest!”

  He shoved Morray back. “And now you’re parading it around for the Servinae…”

  Morray adjusted his uniform. “Get some rest,” he said in a cold, dead tone. “It’s going to be a rough night.”

  “Coward!” Siegwick hissed, turning back to his desk, where a line of family photos had been pushed to the side by documents and reports. His tired gaze settled on one—the only frame left visible beneath the mess.

  The photo it held hadn’t been taken long ago.

  There, smiling at Siegwick, was his granddaughter, Anneli Strand. Her silver hair was neatly tied into a ponytail that draped over her shoulder, shimmering with an iridescence that seemed to radiate through the image—into her smile, into her silver-gold eyes that looked so alive. She was wearing a uniform that Siegwick had grown to despise.

  She had taken the photo with Siegwick celebrating her first day working at Circh Station.

  Gira was on the run, weaving through crowds of excited Servinae who recognized him as the vicious Coarseblood of the Parabellum Onryō. Teary-eyed, he slipped past the growing mob of tactless Servinae, heart racing, until he stumbled into a massive, stylized arcade.

  The massive room was dim—bathed in the deep blue hues of a blacklight that cast a glow across the floor like a starry field. Fluorescent decorations pulsed faintly on every surface, illuminating the dark with scattered bursts of light.

  Dressed in all black, Gira blended into the shadows. He huddled in a far corner, away from the Servinae still scouring the arcade in search of him.

  As they grew closer and closer, he conjured bony white claws that shimmered eerily under the UV glow. In silence he clawed up the wall and into the mess of wires and flickering lights overhead, hiding himself among the blinking labyrinth.

  Exhausted, he rested his eyes, his breath steadying as the chaotic chorus of arcade machines played softly below.

  “GIRA!” Serfet called out into the sea of Servinae that filled the fancy open halls of the Cetarro Sky-scraper. “I PROMISE TO FEED YOU FRESH MEAT IF YOU COME OUT!”

  Aria shook her head. “Serfet, in what reality does this stupid plan of yours work?”

  Serfet frowned, “Then what’s your idea, pest!?”

  Aria shot him a nasty glare. “Hmph. Let’s ditch this dork, Mera.”

  Mera was petrified in the sea of people and didn’t give much of a fight as Aria grabbed her wrist and began pulling her along.

  “Umm—w-we-well… I—uh—” Mera stammered, overwhelmed.

  “Wait! I need Mera’s Kyyr Retina!” Serfet cried, stumbling forward as he chased after them through the bustling crowd.

  Sitting by a rather ugly fountain, Holly and Alice sat back to back, waiting for their mother to arrive.

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  Alice was holding her knees tightly as she grumpily glanced at the rippling water next to her. She raised her head. “Holly… I—I don’t.” She stopped, her face painted with discomfort. “He scares me.”

  Holly lowered her crystalcomm, longingly resting her eyes on the rippling water.

  The two sat in silence.

  Xizu finally arrived after a couple of minutes. “Sorry about the wait! It’s been ages since I’ve been in this stupid building. Do you girls want to do something before we head to the manor?”

  Alice shook her head.

  Holly glanced around for her mother—but Gira wasn’t there. She nearly asked where the Coarseblood boy was, but she caught it just in time, swallowing the words and shifting her thoughts. “There’s a pretty famous arcade on the floor above… maybe we could play some games before we get something to eat?”

  Xizu smiled. “Not a bad plan. If there’s anything the losers here are great at, it is coming up with fun stuff to do.”

  Alice gleamed with intrigue but quickly hid her excitement.

  “Do you want to give it a shot?” Holly asked with a knowing smile.

  “There’s nothing else to do…” Alice mumbled.

  Xizu smiled, checking the time on her crystalcomm:

  1447 (2:47 PM).

  “Let’s get something to eat first,” she said, skimming a map of the Cetarro Sky-scraper. “There’s some pretty freaky seafood restaurants here thanks to the Tectonaphs. Let’s give them a shot before we hit the arcade.”

  “Works for me,” Holly said, sticking her crystalcomm into a small satchel.

  “How can you be hungry after watching the gore-fest?” Alice complained.

  Xizu sighed, “I’ve seen worse. Besides, with the alien delights from beyond the Translates, you might not be able to tell what’s meat or not!”

  “That doesn’t help, mom.” Alice grumbled, looking away annoyed as the trio began to walk towards the elevator.

  “I think it makes it more exciting…” Holly said.

  ‘Yeah, but that’s because you’re into weird, freaky shit.”

  Xizu shot Alice a mean glare. “No cussing.”

  “But Dad’s not here?” Alice said dismissively.

  “And?” Xizu asked with a mildly terrifying edge.

  “I meant that in a good way…” Alice shrunk in her place.

  Xizu shook her head. Morray, your shitty opinions are spreading…

  “I think swearing makes you unattractive,” Holly chimed as they stepped into the elevator.

  “Bet that’s helped a bunch…” Alice scoffed.

  Holly grimaced, “I’m waiting for the right person!”

  “It better not be that red monster…”

  “Alice!” Xizu snapped, frowning.

  The Parabellum Onryō had come and gone, the excitement still palpable as rumors and thoughts were exchanged by excited Servinae and, down below, by anxious rangers. Down amidst the strange buildings and ruins, familiar rangers moved through their sector of the forest with practiced vigilance.

  Well—most of them did.

  One particular ranger sat perched atop an oblong structure, gazing up at the three ominous towers that comprised the distant Sky Metropolis.

  Her dark-grey hair was tied into a messy ponytail that tumbled just past her shoulders. Her eyes, a distilled pale yellow, were curious and strange—their pupils faintly star-shaped, as if plucked from a child’s drawing of the night sky. A sweet smile played across her lips as she dreamily watched the massive cloth banners that connected the towers, fluttering like colossal ribbons against the backdrop of fluffy white clouds.

  “Sey! Get down here and make yourself useful!” A gruff voice called out to the starry-eyed girl that was sitting atop one of the numerous half-built structures that littered M?ry’Plu.

  Sey was jolted from her sweet daydream, arms flailing wildly as she lost her balance and began sliding down the curved structure.

  “Sorry, sir!” she called out dutifully, attempting to slow her descent—only to find herself in a graceless struggle against the smooth rock of the weird building.

  “How the hell did you even get up there, kid?” The gruff male ranger asked.

  Sey landed with a thud. “Ouch… sorry about that,” she said, painfully rubbing the spot where she’d landed.

  The other ranger sighed, shifting a box of tools he was carrying. “Don’t go outta your way to hurt yourself, alright, kid?”

  Sey gave him a cheery smile.

  “You really remind me of my daughter, ya know.” The ranger known as Sorroz said, putting down the box of tools. He stretched his back. “It’s a real shame they’ve got good kids like you out here fighting for the living slop of M?ry’Plu.”

  Sey laughed faintly, “Don’t say that, Mr. Sorroz. I think it’s pretty nice that places like this are still up and running. I do wish I was up there, though.” She said, pointing at the towers far above.

  Sorroz peered up. “Normally I’d hate the thought, but ya hear about the show they just put on?”

  “Show?” Sey tilted her head.

  “Didn’t ya see all the news on yer crystalcomm?” Sorroz said, pulling his out.

  “Ohh, well… I actually broke mine a couple days ago…” she admitted, rubbing the back of her head. “ I’ve just been too lazy to replace it.”

  Sorroz shook his head, “Best ya get that fixed—but besides that, here’s the big deal.” He showed Sey a recording of the Parabellum Onryō.

  “I know that guy!” she exclaimed, before feeling a little unsure. “Sorta…” Sey said, watching the highlights of the bloody battle.

  “Borren? Never pegged ya for the kind to hang around fiends like him.”

  “Wha? No—the Coarseblood! I was stationed in Trant, remember! I also saw him freak out back in Krreat a couple weeks ago… hmmm…”

  “You’ve seen the beast in person?” Sorroz said with childlike excitement.

  “Yeah, he seems alright, but he did spaz out on us,” she said, resting a pensive hand on her chin. “When did this fight happen?”

  “Apparently, bout an hour before we got here.”

  “Oh, Taratells! (In world sweets.) Maybe we’ll get to work with him on this mission! I mean, the Voltasaxx Squad is the one hosting us.”

  “Maybe… But with Commandant Siegwick and Okari here, I doubt they’ll let Draell and Morray have their fun. Not to mention the incident back in Krreat has spooked half our Squad.”

  “But I’m the only one who actually even got near the Coarseblood!” Sey pouted.

  “I thought you were lyin the whole time bout that ordeal in the Pool room.” Sorroz said blankly.

  Sey began to sulk, “Really? Actually now that you mention it, no one’s really cared to ask me for details…” She lowered her head, her dark-grey hair rippling down like a waterfall.

  “You just tell some pretty wild stories, kid, that’s all… I mean, remember that crazy story about the Makisuchus with a kid’s face on it?” He let out a hearty laugh.

  “BUT THAT WAS REAL! I SWEAR BY THE SYMBOLS, I SAW ONE!” Sey pleaded, dramatically shaking the old ranger.

  “Sure thing, kid.” Sorroz said, picking up his box of tools. “If ya can get me a picture, I’ll believe you.”

  “But I didn’t have my crystalcomm!” She whined.

  “Likely story, kid.” He said dismissively, “Anyway, you should get some work done—the estimated number of Caused is in the triple digits for tonight.” His demeanor became darker, his voice softening into a more fatherly tone: “It’d be a shame to lose your smile, kid.”

  Sey gave him a big smile before giving the towers a final glance. “I’m not the sharpest, but I’m pretty amazing at not dying, old-timer.”

  “You’re telling good ol’ reliable me that?” Sorroz chuckled.

  “Ah—guess you have been around for a bit longer…” Sey mumbled before flashing another smile. “Let’s get another hundred years on your résumé, Mr. Sorroz!” she declared, tagging along beside the older ranger.

  An alien visage followed not far behind. Moving parallel under the golden glow of the forest, one of the hundreds of Unknown shadowed the two rangers as it slowly waited for nightfall.