Chapter 162

  Celeste felt near-endless wonders, fears, and strange tightness in her hand and chest as she walked around the Federation. Her new clothes were neat and soft, while the ground was cold because of no shoes.

  She liked that immensely, with a feeling that wasn't wet, sticky, cold, or too hot. It was ideal, so she almost loved them more than food, which was an honesty she couldn't comprehend overnight.

  This whole land was weird, filled with people and faces she couldn't help but watch while they didn't watch her back at all. Some had, but when she wore new clothes, she felt as if she was dusted and back in that range, ready for her hunting state. They didn't look at her anymore, though they were all there, going by their life and time. Like monsters, frankly. Like beasts and things out there, but not like here.

  She was one of them now, so wasn't that weird? Aside from her, there were more people. Those were weirdos; they also had their cursed objects in their bodies, and Reaz walked and talked to those cold siblings. Dreadus was right beside her, feeling reassured that this new world wouldn't eat her.

  Then, there was her last mark of the past, tightly hugged and pushed to her chest. Hound was the one taken back the most by these regular people, who probably took him for a very dangerous creature. He glared at everywhere with naked curiosity, blinking dozen eyes without a way to truly do what he ought to do. Prudent and mistaken, those people didn't know they were prey.

  However, four Walkers surrounded Hound, and many pedestrians loved what these four people depicted, even if they weren't wearing the most splendid attire. After a rare mission, it was no wonder. Even when they noticed a freaky creature worth some panic and apprehension, no one approached this group.

  That was a subjective norm, coupled with respect that went well beyond Celeste and her Hound. Uniforms were like another layer to their status, as the colors of a Division mattered. There were white parts and yellow strips accented with mostly deep blue colors.

  It had been barely a few hours since she arrived here, into a time and grace of strange hills and even weirder climate. It was unnaturally safe and loud, yet there were no monsters, let alone some Fog or large walking creatures. Her mouth was still tight, hands quenched, and feet bare.

  Dreadus wanted to help her however he could. But where to start? How to do it? He had never done this before; there were usually much better folks for caring for youths or kids on these occasions, coming from specialized units who anticipated such conditions.

  Alas, this one touched Australia and his mission, so there was no way Dreadus was planning to leave Celeste aside or toss her to some sick men. No matter how it made him feel and regret his choices, he planned to be there for her, regardless of how it will make him feel.

  At least Reaz seemed willing to help and get involved, yet her points had yet to truly matter. He knew of them, which was good and unexpected for Reaz, who was busy and hard to deal with. Maybe this mission was why she was like this, or maybe Celeste was another curious cause. In that case, he couldn't blame her.

  Celeste's mind was restless because of so many people. She walked around, smelling foods and scents, and wondered if she could climb those big blocky hills called buildings. She was great at it, though unfamiliar with glass and those big towers. Dreadus's seeming anxiety let her obey him, making her stick close to him.

  Her destination was unknown; she simply followed where Dreadus was going, but in truth, he let her do whatever she wanted. Food? She shall get anything, and he will give it her justice. Clothes? She already had them.

  There was nothing wrong with walking on hard yet smooth surfaces, though the food was weirder. There were no animals. Were they hunting around these hard surfaces and towers or in those things called buildings? That didn't seem convenient, and they surely did not eat each other, right?

  Celeste remembered his promise and words and felt she should trust them. It was her gut speaking, which was related to his face that was there and looking.

  And he was pondering really, really hard, apprehensive about his job, what had happened, and what in the world to do with Celeste, who had yet to realize the weight of her choices and future.

  What she should do wasn't within her mind. It was a life out there that was hard. Here? She might be a new kind of huntress surrounded by little rabbits who though they were wolves.

  Dreadus had his home. It wasn't that blocky or pointy buildings, but far away on the edges, where those huge plateaus housed weird metallic monsters, close to those cuts in space observing this land. Of course, she noticed them! They were right there, waiting, while there were hundreds of people waiting right back at them.

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  Celeste couldn't imagine a million. There was no way she could even recognize and differentiate so many faces.

  Dreadus barely lived in that home, and he even wondered when was the last time he was there. He often opted to nap in some random places since Outside had no hotels or places to call home for him. Those who were like that stank of other Walkers and places he didn't want to think about.

  He liked air, freedom, and not some annoying, pestering objectification of homes like dorms.

  In the Federation, he wasn't making missions overnight, let alone visiting for some big purposes. As one of the irregular yet powerful Walkers at Rank 7, who had a chance for this rare Rank-up, his position was noteworthy like his abilities. His reputation might have its cracks, but that's the way he worked and what this place had to take. He wouldn't change for that or because some people wanted him to.

  Reaz was half the reason his team wasn't drowning in failures and his poor choices, which was one of the great reasons for her existence and continuous backing. She was quite a bit younger, after all, so not many older Walkers like Dreadus would favor such a twisted position. When one was a leader of their own little party, they usually kept it going with firm rules.

  There was a hierarchy set in this place, and Walkers had them in even more shapes and cues than the traditional military. Of course, this point might not be everywhere, as many old and reputable military styles have survived in several Walker organizations. Divisions of the Federation were mostly that, though some private or close teams were older than some of them.

  The discrepancy usually formed semi-closed and personal alliances, or secluded places, stemming from individuals of higher standing who didn't want older associations.

  Those were private cases that assembled families or syndicates ruled by influential Walkers, who managed to cue more people in to keep going and surviving in these private sectors. In the Federation, it was also there, albeit lowered, thanks to the incredibly reputable direction of Assembly Island.

  Dreadus was fine with the military, so he wasn't looking at the world in colorful light. He did his job just enough, and after decades of that, doing something else sounded annoying as hell. That was it.

  Celeste saw him for who he was.

  “What are you planning right now?” Reaz asked Dreadus, implying that Celeste was her main topic.

  He shot her a simple, clueless glance. “I think I will need to speak to some people and make some annoying associations. I think... she needs something firmer. Something better than me.”

  “I am here.”

  “You?”

  “What? Is it wrong? Is my position not to your satisfaction? I helped with her name and even her retrieval and am still bloody tired.” Reaz pointed at her uniform which had seen better days in terms of colors and style. She might've picked some new stuff in that shop, but they would arrive at her home rather than come with her hand. Or on her filthy body. Her face was at least cleaned up after more than a day since that dreadful run and fighting.

  “Oh,” Dreadus was lost in words and glanced at Celeste and asked the most meaningful words he could find. “What do you want to do?”

  Celeste looked at him, Hound following and her head poking beside his.

  She said nothing.

  “I don't think she can see very well. You should decide since you brought her out of there,” Reaz argued. “What is with her, her future, and time? I think higher-ups will want to hear about everything, and some might even help out. I mean, giving her citizenship is a small matter because of her Emblem, and let's not forget she helped settle that Sea. So what are you hesitant about?”

  “Well, you don't have kids.”

  “You don't either!” Reaz argued with an angry sneer.

  Suddenly, Dreadus cried out and began to beg the heavens for help with clear frustration that had no bounds. Seeing the sky, there were no answers, let alone a way out of there.

  It was embarrassing, too, but he didn't care.

  Reaz masked her face behind her palm and watched how siblings distanced themselves and hid around a corner, leaving this questionable leader to growl in the middle of an emptying street.

  “Leave him be, sis.” the brother said.

  “Crybaby.” sisters expressed, poking him. “Do something.”

  “Let's pretend we don't know him.”

  Then both nodded to themselves, agreeing on one rare occasion that couldn't make any more sense.

  Celeste was right beside Reaz and shouting Dreadus, oblivious to any shame or awkwardness between these people. Crying wasn't an unfamiliar act to her; she had seen plenty of that all around her, coming with pain, anguish, and death. She hadn't cried in a very long time, but she still remembered when she was breaking and feeling lost.

  Nudging closer, she offered Hound to Dreadus, who stopped shouting and looking at the sky.

  He didn't take this Dark and forfeited his outburst that had been accumulating for a whole day. “I... I don't know what to do with you...” he acknowledged, watching Hound's huffing and curious eyes right beside hers.

  It was no breach of promise; Celeste could tell he wanted to help her but didn't know how and where to even start. Celeste might not know it either, or so Dreadus thought.

  Reaz wasn't surprised to reach this point or note his frustration. She kind of expected this to come sooner, and wanting to exploit him further was almost as easy as snatching candy from a kid.

  That was why he was like a beggar before a child.

  Celeste frowned at his helpless sight and hugged Hound. He happily purred and barked as if he were laughing at Dreadus. Celeste didn't pat it and considered her next words.

  “Safe,” she said after a few moments of thought. “Food... Hunting... Strength! POWER!” She almost shouted the latter words and figured some goals might be reasonable. The biggest one was still unknown, but one unspoken word might help with that.

  Too many words were far too much for her life. She shouldn't worry about most of them, for as long as she wasn't like a fish in a small pond, Dreadus wouldn't leave her alone. If he would...

  She was tossed into a much bigger pond anyway, and there were even bigger ones ahead or all over the place. There were no ponds. No oceans. There were new kinds of skies all over the place.

  And she wanted to see them.