That subtle laugh lingered between them they both felt they had to continue Lana's eyes were brightly nudging him to say something anything, he looked away.
Lana gazed into the water at his response, she didn't know him and neither did she all she knew was that they were both terrified of death.
The water shimmered in the bright moonlight putting Lana's mind at ease the trauma would not o but it put her at ease
Auther closed his eyes.
Lana previously lost at the beauty of the sea woke to the sound of her own breathing.
Too fast.
She sat up slowly looking around the water surface until a sift wind brushed past her face turning to the direction a sound came rushing at her
There you are.
The voice slid into her thoughts without warning.
She froze.
It wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. It sounded old. Calm. Certain.
The anomaly walks beside you.
Her stomach twisted.
"…Why are you here?" she whispered.
Because a stupid child wants to plunge this world to ruin.
The air before her shimmered. A sphere of water rose from the ground, hovering, its surface glowing faintly red as mana twisted inside it.
Her breath hitched.
"Why is he an anomaly?"
The sphere pulsed.
They always are. Those who carry more than one core. They bend probability. They pull calamity toward themselves. Left alone, they unmake worlds.
Lana's fingers dug into her palms.
"This world is already broken," she said. Quiet. Firm. "More imbalance won't change that."
Silence.
Then—
Sentiment does not absolve responsibility. I am sorry but I will do what is right
The water trembled.
"Leave him alone," Lana said. Louder now. "He's my friend."
It disappeared but it was followed by a sphere of water rising from the water
The sphere shuddered—then shot a jet of water forward aiming straight at his head
"Auther—!"
He turned just in time to see the water lance toward his head.
Lana shoved him sideways.
The jet tore through the space he'd been standing in, exploding against a tree with enough force to strip bark clean.
Auther rolled, heart hammering.
"What—what was that?!"
"A monster," Lana said, breath shaking. "And it seems angry for some reason."
The water surged again.
Auther didn't hesitate.
A fireball left his hand on instinct.
The moment flame met water, it vaporized in a violent hiss, steam blasting outward in a blinding cloud.
The sphere collapsed.
Silence rushed back in.
Auther stared at his hand. Then at Lana.
"…You okay?"
She nodded. Barely.
"It wanted to kill you I'm happy you didn't."
Something about the way she said it made his chest tighten.
Dinner was awkward.
They ate cold rations from the queen's storage bag, the food tasting like paper and salt. No one commented. Viola sat slightly apart, sword across her knees, eyes scanning the dark.
"I'll take first watch," she said eventually. "Bandits move within six hours of dawn."
No one argued.
Auther lay back, staring at the tent ceiling.
Sleep came in fragments.
He woke to fireflies.
At first he thought he was dreaming—tiny lights drifting past the tent flap like floating embers. He sat up, careful not to wake the others.
Viola was dozing. Still alert, even asleep.
He stepped outside.
The fireflies moved with purpose. Flowing. Like a river of light.
Curiosity tugged at him.
Just a look, he thought. She'll wake if anything happens.
He followed them.
The forest opened into a meadow.
Millions of lights hovered over tall pampas grass, purple in the glow, swaying as if breathing. Auther stopped at the edge, heart aching with something he couldn't name.
For a moment, he forgot everything.
San Francisco. Hills at night. The city alive beneath him. His parents. The quiet joy of being alone and not lonely.
As a previous software engineer his only resorts were to the top of the hills to look at the bustling city, in the past he was alone now the same but this time due to choice.
"…I wish you could see this," he murmured. To no one.
The grass shifted.
The ground heaved.
Something enormous rose from the meadow.
A giant toad—easily twelve meters tall—its eyes reflecting firelight like wet moons.
Auther's breath caught.
Don't move.
He ducked instinctively, dropping into the tall grass as its gaze swept the field.
The earth beneath him tightened.
Grass coiled around his legs.
"No—!"
It lifted him, upside down, dragging him toward the creature's gaping mouth.
Fuck. It's feeding me to it. What the fuck am I going to do.
The grass glinted faintly.
As he mentally noted that a plan formed in his head, he cast a fireball at the creature's mouth forcing it to close, the grass paused he cast the second on his foot, magic cannot hurt the castor.
The grass burnt and he was at a free fall knowing his height of 22 cm off 2 meters he had approximated the toad's height to about seven times his due to being lifted by the toad.
By his calculations as the plan was forming his free fall would last about 6 seconds and produce about 3500 Newtons of force accounting for a gravitational acceleration of about 7.8 meters a second.
Tested previously by a lot of trial and error in his earlier teenage years. Now those five seconds allowed him to think of something brilliant
Dew.
Water.
That's it.
His thoughts sharpened.
Water atomizes at around two thousand degrees. But how do I reach those temperatures Complete combustion. Oxygen-rich flame. What combusts to make a fireball... Mana.
He didn't know if it would work.
But he didn't have time.
Mana compressing, forcing oxygen into the structure before conversion.
"One fireball won't do," he hissed. "I need a line. A path."
He spun perpendicular to the camp. He didn't know why he was able to turn mid air but he could not care at the moment.
"Fire blast."
The spell detonated.
The dew-slick grass exploded into steam and flame, a straight scorched corridor tearing through the meadow.
He hit the ground hard. Bones fracture at 3200N he could not land on anywhere that was not his left arm, it was of the least use.
Pain screamed up his left arm—something snapped.
He bit back a cry, rolled, and ran.
The toad roared behind him.
The grass tried to regrow, but the blast zone was too wide.
He stumbled. Crutched forward, arm useless, lungs burning.
I made the right call.
The camp came into view.
"Viola!"
Nine seconds.
That's all it took.
The tent burst apart.
Viola moved like a blade given will—rapier flashing, body a blur. She hit the toad head-on, steel carving through flesh, ripping, piercing, dismantling until the massive body collapsed in wet, shuddering pieces.
Silence followed.
Auther dropped to his knees.
She turned on him.
"You left camp."
He laughed weakly. "You woke up fast."
She saw his arm.
"…Idiot."
He grinned, dizzy. "You were beautiful."
Her glare sharpened. "Maybe I should've let it eat you."
"Yeah," he said softly. "Maybe."
But she was already kneeling beside him, checking his injuries with hands that trembled just a little.
And in that moment, surrounded by wreckage and fireflies, Auther knew—
Whatever game the world was playing—
They were real.
And he wasn't alone. Something about this forest wanted him dead.