Finn had been somewhat impressed by how quickly everyone got ready when morning came. Most of the work was already done. But he was even more impressed by Ernesto, who demonstrated the extent of his power.

  As it turned out, the material the cabins were made of was convertible from one form to another. And it all came together in one giant contraption, a behemoth that absolutely did not look stealthy in the slightest. The apparent ballistas and cannons peeking out from the side weren't subtle either.

  It confused him, this thing. Clearly it was a vehicle meant to carry all the refugees. That part was obvious, but how were they supposed to stay hidden like this.

  When he asked Ernesto as much, the man answered, “Staying completely hidden is impossible, I'm afraid. If our concealment does not work and a primebeast notices us, we will have no other option but to rely on force. Excuse me, no, we wouldn't if you were not with us.”

  “What about covering your tracks?”

  “I have my method for taking care of that, no cause for worry. Although your reinforcement is always appreciated, we hope it never comes to that.”

  Finn raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping into his thoughts. "So, your method involves what, exactly?"

  Ernesto flashed a grin, a glint of pride in his eyes. "Ah, you see, perhaps it's best if you see it for yourself, no?"

  Finn didn’t argue. There wasn’t much point in doubting Ernesto’s word at this point—he'd seen the man work wonders in organizing the camp. And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that the refugees were just one bad encounter away from disaster. Their cover might be imperfect, but the sheer scale of this vehicle screamed attention. The cannons alone would make it a target in a heartbeat.

  Still, if anyone could get them through this, it was Ernesto. Finn was seeing that firsthand. The man’s leadership wasn’t just about strength; it was about navigating the world with a quiet, intuitive knowledge of how to survive in it. Aside from a handful of helpers, it was really just him and all the refugees.

  As they approached the behemoth, a series of clicking and grinding noises echoed through the area. The cabins shifted and reformed, pieces folding and sliding in on themselves, while others slid out, blending into a larger, more cohesive shape. It was unlike anything Finn had seen before—an intricate puzzle of artificial materials made to look like something living, almost. The transformation was mesmerizing, but more than that, it confirmed something important: this was no ordinary vehicle. Ernesto’s camp was far more resourceful than Finn had imagined

  "Just wait," Ernesto said, as though reading Finn’s mind. "This is only the beginning."

  Finn went after him, gaze scanning the area as the final touches were added to the mobile fortress. The refugees were already boarding from the now-empty clearing, and the children clung to their parents, some still wide-eyed with hope, others quiet and withdrawn. There was a tense energy in the air, anticipation mixed with fear.

  "Ready?" Ernesto asked, turning to Finn once the vehicle’s transformation was complete. His tone had changed, more serious now, as though preparing for war.

  Finn nodded, his expression hardening. "Let's go.”

  Climbing the ladder on the side gave a better picture of how truly massive this thing was, certainly larger than any car he had ever seen in Apexia. The faux-wooden roof closed overhead, locking them into the back room with everyone else. The main space was cramped, despite being so large. Dark, too, no windows and just a scant few lights and candles strewn about.

  If not for the other room below, there wouldn't have been enough space for the whole group. And Ernesto couldn't make the truck bigger because the mechanical understructure could only support so much.

  Forty people packed close together, about to undergo a potentially life-threatening journey without the ability to even see what was happening around them.

  This could not stand.

  Two days ago, when he was carrying Paloma, he'd given up on the notion of keeping her invisible, knowing that he couldn't change the colors of other people's bodies or close. Now that he was gaining more context on auras and the mind's interaction with the material world, he was beginning to form an idea of why that was, but that was neither here nor there. What he focused on was the hurdle he had faced since gaining his power that prevented large-scale camouflage. Any massive object that could cover so many people would be incredibly difficult to adjust the colors of to the point where it blended almost seamlessly with the surroundings. So what if he didn't bother with that at all?

  When he'd first experienced Casey’s power, he had felt that overwhelming range and a new vector of power use, akin to discovering a new muscle. In addition to having his known capabilities boosted, it had allowed him to learn about a new aspect of himself.

  Being able to adjust the “opacity” of an object proportionally to how anchored it was in reality had served him well in that fight, but without the boost active, he couldn't even come close to achieving those feats to the same degree. Besides, it wasn’t useful for his current purposes. It had merely given him an idea.

  Lyra had seen him fade out of existence, becoming less real and tied to the world in exchange for a decreased ability to be touched by it. The part that was intriguing to him was the fading. He couldn't replicate that here, and even if that were within his power, it would ruin the vehicle. However, he could work on removing color from an object in another way. A new way.

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  Concentrating on that metaphysical connection he had come to register as his power, he zeroed in on every cubic centimeter of the carrier, inside and out. At first, nothing happened. Then the color drained out of the walls, floor and ceiling like that. Like a video of someone painting played in reverse.

  And the light shone in.

  Not bright, not sunny, it was gray and dull, but natural light was streaming into the room. People cried out in alarm, bracing themselves for a fall when the world looked to have disappeared. Then they relaxed when nothing happened, and they noticed the translucent outline indicating that the carrier truck was still there.

  Paloma and a few other kids were glued to the wall, through which they could now peer at the snowy forest. The adults meanwhile exchanged astonished glances. Soon, more and more heads turned to Finn, realizing he must have been the one behind this. The leader of the group was eying him as well.

  “What did you,” Ernesto began, glancing around in confusion before his eyes settled back on Finn. “What is this?”

  “An extra layer of stealth,” he replied simply. “This makes hiding everyone easier for me.”

  Murmurs rose from the people nearby who overheard the conversation, rippling through the rest like a way, though how much they actually understood was unclear.

  “You are full of surprises.” Ernesto looked him up and down, as if he was suddenly a new person, then gestured towards the driver's seat beyond the door next to them. “Shall we?”

  Not wanting to waste any more time, Finn followed silently until they were in the “cockpit” surrounded by unaffected walls and an actual window; he didn't want to mess things up for the driver, which was apparently Ernesto going by how he sat on the only chair here while Finn closed the door behind him.

  When they turned their attention to the control panel, Finn noticed something strange. The panel wasn’t a panel at all. It was a flat surface, completely smooth, with no obvious buttons or controls.

  "How does this work?" Finn asked, unable to hide his curiosity. His mind was already considering all the possibilities. Was it a touch interface? A biometric lock? He sensed no hidden underlying mechanism below the surface.

  Straightening, Ernesto placed his palm flat against the surface. "It reads our intentions," he said, his voice calm but firm. "The material adapts to what we need. It's an extension of myself, in a way.”

  The surface hummed to life under his touch, and the ground beneath them seemed to tremble slightly as the vehicle came to life, shifting into motion. Finn was momentarily taken aback by the fluidity of it all. It was almost like the thing was alive.

  As they moved forward, the weight of the vehicle pushing through the earth felt different than what Finn had expected. It wasn’t like a traditional machine. There was an unnatural grace to it, almost as if the ground was yielding to its presence. The sensation was strange, foreign, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like something far older than any technology he’d encountered.

  “How does it work?” he asked. The snow underneath them was untouched. They were clearly riding over it, each wooden wheel spinning on its axis, but there were no depressions left in their wake for them to be tracked with. This wasn't simple telekinetic control. Not only that, at least. This was something more.

  He got an apologetic smile for an answer. “I’m afraid this aspect of my gift is very intuitive. Enough so that I can't give you an in-depth technical explanation. Sorry.”

  “Alright,” Finn said. He wasn't that curious. As long as it worked, this was fine. “How many times are you planning to stop?”

  “Not too often. You see, the catch with these trips? They are a matter of probability. The longer you remain exposed, the higher your chances of encountering something you can't overcome. There are two reliable ways to circumvent such an issue. One is a pre-planned route that minimizes risk. The other is to make haste,” the older man explained, throwing him a meaningful look.

  He absorbed Ernesto’s explanation, processing the unspoken implications. A pre-planned route minimized risk, but haste reduced exposure. And right now, they had already chosen the latter. Because of his insistence. That meant stopping only when absolutely necessary.

  It made sense, though it also meant Finn had to be ready for anything at a moment’s notice. That was fine. He preferred it that way. Less waiting, less uncertainty. Just action.

  Plus, taking into consideration his upgraded physique, he was the most suited to foregoing food, water and bathroom breaks for long periods of time. It was the displaced victims of the war who had it the hardest.

  Outside, the landscape moved past them in eerie silence. No rumbling engines, no crunch of snow under heavy wheels. Just a seamless glide through the frozen wilderness. If not for the faint vibrations in the floor, Finn could have believed they weren’t moving at all.

  No words were spoken for a time, until Finn sensed something. Humanoid. Big. Taller than an apartment building, fur as white as the snow it strode on, and giant tusks sticking out of its giant maw.

  “Primebeast three and a half kilometers to the east. Probably colossal-class,” he warned. He didn’t want to chance passing right by it in case they were detected.

  That made Ernesto's eyebrows shoot up, hands sliding over the dashboard to make their transport bank left. Apparently he wasn't alone in his judgment. “I… see. Thank you for warning me. Do you think you could handle it, if necessary?”

  Hearing that, Finn took his time answering. The truth was that he wasn't sure, but that was the last thing he should say in this conversation. “You should be more worried about what would happen if I did engage it and the sounds of fighting drew in other strong primebeasts.”

  “Good point,” the chauffeur conceded. “You have sharp senses, then?”

  “I do.”

  Finn saw the laugh in the man’s aura before he saw it in his body. “Is there anything you can't do?” The moment it looked like Finn was about to say something he held up his hand. “Rhetorical question. But you are a useful scout. I find myself curious about your origins. It's a shame I won't be able to contact my people so far inland, or else I might have done my research, Shade.”

  “No one was expecting you to anticipate my arrival in your camp,” Finn said.

  “True.”

  A couple of days until they reached the border at this point. After that he'd be on his way home, towards everyone. He wanted to see them again. He wanted to let them know he wasn't dead, but in order to do that he had to actually survive in the first place.

  He had already resolved to give it his all. All he could do was wait and see.

  Seven hours later, the next surprise happened.

  He hated it.

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