One stretched to the left, partially collapsed with thicker darkness. The other had a clearer passage, though narrow, and it wound through a stone ridge bedecked with thorns. They weren't too dissimilar, but they definitely weren't alike.
Jethro gazed at them with creased brows.
"Uh… were we expecting a fork in the road?" Moffrey asked, scratching his forehead with a finger.
"Not really," Anson replied, also confused.
Padva stared ahead, silent. Pott grunted. Mory bit her lower lip in terrified thought, while Songred strode past them all to inspect the divide himself.
Moffrey called over his shoulder. "Hey, escort. You seeing this?"
The man stepped forward, finishing a note on his hologram. He lowered his arms and looked at both paths, skeptical for a moment.
Everyone watched him and waited.
Eventually, he shrugged. "There can be two routes at times in the same incision. Doesn't matter. They both lead to the same Riftkeeper in the end. Though the Darcbeasts you'd run into will most likely be different in both paths, their ranking will remain the same."
"So which path should we take?" Moffrey asked.
The escort glanced at Songred. "It's up to the captain." Then he returned to his earlier position.
Songred folded his arms. "If both paths hold different Darcbeasts, even if they're the same rank, one route might have more numbers. That means more kills. And the more we kill, the higher our names get on the Academy Leaderboard."
Jethro arched an eyebrow. 'Great. We've got ourselves a kill-count junkie.'
"Captain's right!" Moffrey exclaimed. "If we're high on the Leaderboard, it's a one way ticket to become great beast tamers!"
Mory and Pott tentatively agreed. Padva didn't seem to care either way.
"Anson," Songred continued. "You're the Scout. Find out which path has more beasts."
"Got you." Anson whistled. The young Venomclaw Lynx lowered its nose, the green bioluminescent veins stretching on its spine began to glow as it sniffed the air, then prowled toward the fork.
It paused… then turned to the right path. Its tail sprang up instantly, flicking with certainty as it whimpered softly.
"I guess that's our route."
Jethro watched, amazed and jealous at the same time. These tamers had already formed bonds that were more than surface level with their mechbeasts. Their companions could carry out fairly complex tasks like that.
The only task that his Gutterling was able— and happy —to do was keeping bugs off him at night.
"Alright then," Songred said. "Let's move."
Moffrey stretched his arms. "More beasts, more points. Let's go hunting."
"Try not to get in my way this time, Moff," Anson muttered.
"Hah! You're just mad that you're slower than me."
Padva retracted her bow into its baton form and clipped it by her waist. Her Panther followed.
"I think I saw something weird, guys," Mory spoke as she followed them. "There weren't two paths when we first arrived."
"What?" Moffrey snapped at her. "Stop saying nonsense. Didn't you hear the escort say it was fine?"
Jethro lingered at the fork's edge, looking down the right path, feeling a thread of hesitation holding him back.
He could already sense how much thicker and stranger the air felt there. But, having no choice, he swallowed and stepped forward, muttering to himself and the Red Lizard on his shoulder.
"I've seen too many movies to be comfortable with this."
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
They ventured deeper down the path with anticipation of more Gray Rank Darcbeasts to slay.
Some of them were already imagining what life in the Academy would be like, the Factions they could join, the pedigrees they could earn. None of them really noticed the shift in the air. Not immediately.
The fog behind them thinned like retreating fingers, while the path only stretched wider and wider.
Cracks in the ground widened into canyons of violet ash. The very few trees around curled like fangs from the soil, and the creeping roots budged from the earth like solid spiderwebs, while throbbing underfoot as if drawing breath.
They hadn't encountered a single beast in a while, despite Anson's confident call.
Jethro was certain that the air had not been this heavy before. It wasn't choking, but it was enough to weigh on his chest.
Though it could just be him being paranoid because of the media he'd once consumed.
The rest of the team didn't really seem too bothered about it. They were all silent as they walked. Too quiet when Jethro thought about it. Not even the usual clanks of gear or the purrs and hums of their mechbeasts made noise.
Lizard was jittering on his shoulder, but that didn't tell him anything because that was all the mechbeast had been doing since they entered the Rift.
However, it seemed someone was noticing the strangeness of this place too.
Padva. She stopped for a mini second, tightened her hand around her collapsed bow, and continued forward, saying nothing.
Jethro grumbled silently, but followed.
After a few more minutes of walking in silence, Anson hastened his steps to catch up with Padva. Once he stepped up beside her, he pushed his dark hair to the side, cleared his throat and flashed her an ambitious grin.
Padva could sense him beside her, but she didn't look his way. Her Panther however, was not a fan of Anson's presence and his deep growls reflected that.
"So…" Anson began, his tone suspiciously smooth, "...you were kinda amazing back there. With your bow and arrow. Is really rare to find an archer these days, especially now we have aether guns."
Padva remained still-faced, eyes ahead.
"And that Deathclaw of yours. Pather-type mechbeasts are already hard to come by, but getting a Doomsday Panther and already taking it to the Juvenile Stage in such a short time is recommendable! You're a pretty awesome person, Princess Padva. What do you say we hang out together once this is over and we get to the Academy?"
Padva didn't stop walking. And she was yet to look at him.
When seconds passed and no reply came from her, Anson's grin dropped off his face like a dead leaf. "Right," he muttered, glancing away.
Moffery looked at him and scoffed. "Loser."
They marched on. The world around them changed again.
A sharp chill pierced the air. Jethro exhaled, and saw vapor. Pott hugged himself by the elbows. Mory shuddered. Everyone else began noticing it— their mouths steamed with every breath.
"Why's it suddenly freezing?" Moffrey complained, rubbing his arms.
Songred looked at him uninterestedly. "How are you cold? Does your beast not give ice powers or something?"
"Apparently not," Moffrey snorted. "Cryokinesis doesn't inherently mean immunity to cold." He shrugged insecurely. "I don't know, maybe I'll get the power later but wh—"
He stopped, staring at Jethro.
"Wait a sec— why aren't you cold?"
Jethro looked at him. "Huh?"
"You've not shivered once! Your lips aren't even dry."
Everyone glanced at Jethro's direction.
"Yeah, it's true."
"He looks so warm… and pink."
Jethro shrugged. "My mechbeast lets me regulate body temperature. That's… kind of all it does."
There was a moment of silence.
Then Moffrey broke it with a burst of laughter so loud it must have woken sleeping Darcbeasts.
"That's it? That's the power your mechbeast gave you? Jeez, not that I'm surprised since it's the weakest Grey Rank, but you're basically just a walking thermostat!"
Jethro sighed. "At least I'm not the one who's whining."
Moffrey's eyes flashed red. "What did you just say to me, you scrap feeder?"
At the front, the escort slowed his steps. His brows furrowed, and his gaze shifted from side to side. Something felt wrong,
"Say it again if you have the balls! Don't you realize that you're a courier because you're not at our level?!" Moffrey continued behind.
"Take that clever look off your face or I'm taking it off with my fist!"
Then, Anson's voice broke out. "Stop!"
Everyone halted. Moffrey's lips paused mid-scream, and all attention swiveled to the path ahead where Anson and the escort were peering at.
The mechbeasts all became rattled. Padva's Panther couldn't stop growling, Anson's Lynx hissed defensively. Jethro's Lizard scurried down his shoulder and hid inside his jacket.
"What is it now?" Songred asked.
Anson's voice was strained. "I sense three Darcbeasts ahead. But these ones… these ones are very big." He turned to the rest of the team. "My senses must be off because that's not possible, right? What type of Gray Rank beast would be very big?"
Padva stepped forward, eyes dark as pitch. "They wouldn't be Gray Rank beasts."