Tales from the edge of reality

In the silence of the early morning, Pope and Floppa dressed in the dim light of the room. It was barely 4 a.m., and the cold air wrapped the space in an unsettling calm. Pope, adjusting his belt and securing each piece of his gear, glanced sideways at Floppa, who was finishing fastening the buckles of his outfit with precise movements. On the other side of the room, both seemed to prepare in mutual silence, offering them a sense of tranquility amidst the darkness.

Once done with his gear, Floppa took his pilot's hat and adjusted it firmly, securing the straps under his chin. Then, with one last gesture, he placed his gas mask on his face, testing the pressure of the valves on the sides. Before leaving, he turned to Pope and murmured: —Head down to the hangar. Arthur should be with the fighter jet, almost ready.

Pope nodded with a slight movement of his head, and as soon as Floppa disappeared in a flash, he began walking toward the door. The cold outside was biting, and with every step he took, he felt the icy air seeping through his clothes, anticipating the cold day ahead.

Meanwhile, Floppa reappeared on one of the exterior platforms, feeling the freezing air hit his face. With steady steps, he ascended the platforms leading to the Sparrow's launch area. As he climbed, the image of the dream he had kept replaying in his mind, clouding his concentration. He remembered dancing with that girl, someone his age he didn't recognize, but whose figure radiated a soft and peaceful light, something that made him feel safe. For someone like him, who rarely dreamed in peace, that image was as comforting as it was unsettling.

"It was just a dream… It doesn't matter," he told himself, pushing the thought away as he quickened his pace.

When he reached the launch platform, he found Momox checking some controls and recording wind data. Floppa paused, observing the Sparrow, which rested on the platform as if waiting for the signal to depart. With the new headlights Dickson had installed, the ship seemed to have eyes, giving it an almost lifelike appearance, as if the Sparrow itself were ready to take flight on its own.

—How's the wind? —Floppa asked, adjusting his mask and glancing sideways at Momox.

Momox looked up from his controls and nodded, offering a confident smile. —The wind is calm, Floppa. You won't have any issues.

Floppa thanked him with a slight nod, and as he approached the ship, he noticed the swing Dickson had added to the railing.

—But...—Momox added— I don't think it's a good idea to take the northern route. There are bad winds there this time of year, plus it's a military route from Kingsbury, and right now...

—It's fine, no worries. We were going to have to face that at some point anyway, —Floppa said as he removed his gas mask to breathe in some fresh mountain air.

—Alright, alright, but now, check the new harness Dickson put in for you. You're going to be flying for several hours, so the leather belt might become... uncomfortable. See if it fits, —Momox said as he watched Floppa approach the Sparrow.

The platform Dickson installed between the railings replaced the old leather belt, designed to let him rest during the flight without worrying about keeping his balance. The harness moved inward into the Sparrow's structure, creating something like a micro-bed, covering Floppa's torso entirely, so for him, it was almost like lying face-down. He climbed in and settled, leaning on the railing, already ready to begin the journey. From there, he stood, gazing at the horizon and waiting for the arrival of the fighter jet.

In the hangar, Bee and Fossil walked toward the fighter jet as Bee adjusted 10008 in her backpack. The little creature leaned toward them from its spot, giving them one last review of things to bring.

—Don't forget anything, —10008 insisted—. Money, preferably in Mem points.

Bee and Fossil exchanged a look and nodded, mentally checking their belongings to make sure they had everything needed for the day.

On the other side of the hangar, Arthur and Pope were adjusting some controls on the gunship and conversing in low voices. Pope watched as Arthur checked the systems while telling him some details about his time with Floppa.

—Floppa was different in his previous world, —Pope said—. He seemed more... I don't know, more agitated, nervous, almost anxious. Now he's different. All of yesterday, it's like things are less complicated for him; he looks so calm.

Arthur nodded, listening attentively.

—Well, I don't know—Arthur said—When he arrived, he was very nervous. We basically threw a huge responsibility on his shoulders, but he's been dedicated to many things, and I think that helps him.

Pope nodded.

—So he never did reckless or stupid things here? I mean, did he ever overdo it, almost get himself killed... things like that?

Arthur shook his head.

—Nope, and I'd even say he looks really happy with what he does here. The Floppa you describe sounds really gloomy.

Pope got lost in his thoughts for a moment, remembering everything he and the others had gone through in the previous world. And on top of that, he really didn't know what Floppa had seen in the year they were separated. He saw things he preferred not to remember, and that was despite being in the most stable zones left in that world. Floppa was sent to the most dangerous zones to collect samples.

—He was... trust me, he was. But well, it's good, as long as it makes him happy, he'll keep going, or at least I think so...—Pope said.

Fossil joined the conversation and added:

—Don't worry, I think everything will be fine with him. He's different, and now he laughs much more, and more genuinely, but I don't think that's a reason to be alarmed. It's a good thing.

Arthur, pleased with the comment, turned toward the group and gestured for them to board.

—Get in. Bee, you'll sit in the lower part of the gunner's seat, next to Pope, near the back of the ship. Fossil, you're with me in the co-pilot's seat, just under my seat.

Then he got a little closer to Pope, who was already positioning himself at the controls.

—Look, —Arthur said, pointing to the wheel in front of Pope and the glass in front of him—. This black glass here shows the speed we're going. Green means normal speed, yellow is combat speed, and red means excessive speed. It's not really a problem, you can also think of it as subsonic speed. Worry when it turns scarlet; that's when the ship is at its structural limits. It can stay like that, but it's not ideal for the engine, —Arthur said while pointing to the glass—. These tubes around the screen show the fuel level. The more it's used, the more they bubble and the lower the level gets. They run out at the same time, so keep an eye on that too.

Pope nodded as Arthur finished explaining.

—And the weapons? —Pope asked.

—They're here. You've got everything from explosive flares to toxic flares. The sight is in front of you, etched into the front glass of the cockpit. Make sure to aim carefully, —Arthur said.

—Alright, but exactly what types of flares do I have? —Pope asked again.

—Look, you've got explosive flares, toxic flares, illuminating flares, and sonic flares. The last two are mostly tactical; the others are for attack. You switch weapons with the pedal on your right foot. Also, you can use the toxic flares with that button there. That button creates a spark around the ship, igniting the toxic gas, —Arthur said while looking at Pope—. Anything else?

Pope shook his head.

—Nope, I'm good now.

—Alright, then we're ready, —Arthur said with a smile.

Everyone took their place as Arthur powered up the engines. Bee settled at Pope's feet in the gunner's cabin at the back of the ship, while Fossil and Arthur positioned themselves at the main controls. Fossil was just in front of Arthur's feet at the front.

Arthur maneuvered the fighter jet toward the hangar door, which began to open as soon as Arthur cast a spell toward it. Arthur pulled a lever close to him, and the fighter's wings unfolded. Then he started the ship, and it accelerated until it reached the exit ramp. There, the ship soared into the sky, passing through both waterfalls that covered the hangar door. The gunship's wheels retracted into the body of the ship, and it began gliding.

Fossil had a clear view from the circular glass that simulated the ship's eye, on either side of the pilot's cabin, observing every detail of the landscape below them.

Arthur shouted to Pope and Bee, his voice clearly audible, a benefit of the cabins being semi-open rather than fully closed.

"Put on your gas masks. We're crossing the Corruption Forest."

"Do the toxins really reach that height?" Bee asked.

"Yep, you'd be surprised how high they go. They usually form electric storms with acid rain in the deeper parts of the forest. Here, they only reach the first clouds in the sky. We won't go above them because this isn't a combat trip, so we need the masks."

Bee nodded and took out her mask, while Pope also pulled his out and put it on.

Pope and Bee complied, adjusting their masks. Fossil looked at Arthur's, which resembled a dog's snout with filters on each side. Intrigued, Pope commented:

"Did you make that mask yourself?"

Arthur nodded, smiling beneath his mask.

"Yeah. All the masks in the cordillera are handmade. And not to brag, but they're the best around."

Bee leaned forward and asked:

"Did Floppa make his mask too?"

Arthur confirmed with a proud gesture.

"Yep. Each mask is unique, even his."

Fossil, remembering what a seller had said about the uniqueness of the masks in the cordillera, commented:

"So it was true... these masks are special."

From his position, Bee could see Floppa on the Sparrow, waiting for them with his body resting against the railing and his goggles on to protect his eyes from the wind. The Sparrow took off from the platform with speed, cutting through the darkness and leading the way.

As they ascended, Floppa's voice reached them through his shouts.

"We're taking the eastern route. Momox mentioned there's a strong wind in the north, so this will take us a couple of extra hours."

Pope looked at Bee and, adjusting in his seat, responded to Floppa:

"Aren't you cold up there?"

From the other side, Floppa laughed lightly, his voice muffled by the wind.

"Nah, I've gotten used to going out at this time. Plus, the hat helps a bit."

Pope, though somewhat uncomfortable with the cold in the open cabin of the fighter plane, couldn't help but smile at the comment.

The headlights of the Sparrow illuminated the path ahead of Floppa, though it wasn't really necessary. Everyone's vision was well-adapted to the darkness, and the light mostly served for the foggy areas. Eventually, Floppa grew tired of the headlights and turned them off, preferring to see the early morning landscape rather than lights in front of him.

Beneath them, the winding mountain path was barely visible as a faint line in the distance. The sound of the fighter plane's engines was the only thing heard in the early morning, covering the night's silence with its rumbling. Pope, who was watching the radar, briefly picked up a signal from another fighter plane nearby, but the signal disappeared in seconds. After a moment of hesitation, he decided not to mention anything and focused on the journey.

When they reached the Corruption Forest, the landscape changed completely. Though the forest was dark and twisted, with its giant mushrooms and dense vegetation, some areas emitted a faint glow, as if something was alive inside. Floppa shouted and explained:

"What you see there are spores. They emit a faint glow… it's like a natural light show."

Bee, Pope, and Fossil looked out the windows, marveling at the light show beneath them. The landscape gifted them flashes of color amid the gloom, interspersed with the distant meows of the chanchopoyos.

Finally, they crossed the forest's natural barrier and arrived at the area where Pope and the others had entered days earlier. Below them, the forest grew thicker and more natural, while in the distance, the sunrise began to break, bathing the horizon in golden and warm tones that signified the start of their day.

---

The icy breeze cut through the dawn as Chara soared in her gunship, heading north. On the radar, two points stood out in the vast sky. One seemed like a fighter plane, but the other… was perplexing. The signal fluctuated, as if it were a person, a figure with wings. Chara furrowed her brow, her mind quickly processing.

"A person… with wings?" she murmured, adjusting the controls to capture the signal better.

The sound of roaring winds outside distracted her for a moment. She knew that northern route was plagued with strong currents, meaning she had to be more discreet, and she couldn't risk being detected. With a slight turn of the stick, she veered northward and began to ascend above the clouds, watching as the Corruption Forest stretched out like a dark mantle below her. From that height, all that was visible were mountains and valleys covered with distorted, misty trees.

However, that same route was a military zone in Kingsbury, and even though simply flying over it filled her with anger because of what had happened in Goldwater, she knew she had to contain herself. She wasn't ready for a direct confrontation.

She descended the plane, diving below the toxic cloud line. Around her, the landscape grew dark and mysterious, the Corruption Forest filling the entire horizon like a dark green spiderweb. The cabin filters automatically activated, purifying the air entering and preventing the toxins from penetrating. Through the glass, she watched the occasional lightning strikes the toxins generated as they collided with the dense fog particles. Flying creatures from the forest surrounded her, some with vibrant colors, others with irregular wings and metallic textures. She ignored them, focused solely on reaching Desolea without being seen.

---

At the other end of Desolea city, Floppa, Pope, Bee, and Fossil were landing at a public hangar. They decided to use this more discreet area to avoid drawing attention, rather than the hangar reserved for royalty and other important families in the region. Floppa knew well the tense atmosphere in Desolea, partly from what Pope had told him during his three days in the cordillera and partly because of Momox's insistence on talking to him about it. The latter knew that arriving with an escort or at a special hangar would only raise suspicions or even hostility, so one of the public hangars was the logical decision to remain unnoticed. Once on the ground, Floppa and Arthur began to adjust the Sparrow to hook it to the fighter plane, while Arthur prepared a protection spell around both vehicles.

Fossil looked around, noticing how figures moved quickly from one place to another in the public hangar. He could feel the vibe of the area, and when Bee approached him, he whispered:

"This place is... rougher than I imagined. It's as bad as India, right?"

Bee nodded with a nervous yet amused smile, but her eyes kept tracking the movements of people, already noticing some furtive glances toward the plane.

Meanwhile, Floppa, focused, was connecting cables to install an invisible electric fence around both planes. Once done, he stood up and, making sure everything was in place, turned toward the others and gave Pope a thumbs up that he was ready. Pope then looked at everyone with a stern gaze he didn't often show.

"Listen," he said quietly, but firmly, "keep your belongings safe, especially anything that stands out. Secure your weapons and close your pockets. This place is like Tepito, but on a larger scale. Here, no one hesitates to steal if they see something they like."

Fossil raised an eyebrow, looking at him with curiosity.

"Is it really like that?"

"Yep, just as ugly," Floppa said while adjusting his belt.

"Shit..." Fossil muttered.

"What's Tepito?" Arthur asked. "Is it a place in your world?"

Floppa let out a brief laugh.

"Yeah. Just imagine a place full of people with quick fingers and sharp eyes on everything anyone carries. You go in dressed and come out in your underwear. I think that gives you an idea."

Arthur raised an eyebrow while crafting his response.

"Well... in Desolea, pickpockets are real masters. It's not just valuable objects, but also information, money, and even small artifacts. So stay alert."

Bee furrowed her brow and gripped her backpack tighter, where 10008 was poking his head out, vigilant.

"Then, eyes front and to the sides," Bee said, trying to keep track of every glance around them.

Pope nodded, always staying one step ahead of the group. Fossil, who was observing the hangar's structure with curiosity, kept his hands in his pockets, understanding the warning.

"Exactly. People here are fast. So watch out."

Arthur finished the protection spell and, satisfied, turned to the group.

"Done. The gunship and the Sparrow are well-protected. Now, make sure all your belongings are secure and within reach. And if anyone tries to get too close..."

Floppa nodded and, doing one last check on his gear, pointed to his sword securely fastened at his side. He then looked at Pope and warned him:

"Stay close. Bee, Fossil, keep 10008 safe. He draws too much attention. The genetic access keys to the coral barrier city are rare and valuable, so don't do anything that'll make us stand out more."

Pope nodded, glancing briefly at his outfit and noticing the eyes of some people in the hangar fixed on them. He felt the weight of their stares like daggers, and for the first time since arriving in Desolea, he realized just how vulnerable he could be.

Fossil, on the other hand, seemed intrigued, looking around as if in a new and fascinating place.

"This is... different," Fossil remarked quietly to Pope. "There's no uniformity here or constant surveillance, just a kind of controlled chaos."

Pope nodded, though with some nervousness.

"It's more hostile. Without laws to keep everything in order, people seem to act more freely, for better or worse."

Bee interrupted them, speaking softly.

"Remember, our mission is to find the Pharo as quickly as possible and get back to the hangar. If you find something nice along the way, well, that's a bonus."

Floppa nodded, and with one last look at the group, commented:

"If anything happens, use the radios."

Arthur smiled, giving them a final piece of advice before heading toward the hangar doors.

"Just a reminder, guys: here, information is as valuable as money. If someone gets too close, it's because they want something. Don't trust anyone."

With that, the group cautiously moved toward the streets of Desolea.

---

In the royal hangars, Chara landed her ship with a smooth descent, using the invisibility system that kept the structure hidden until the last moment. As soon as her ship touched the ground, Chara deactivated the camouflage and adjusted the bandana over her face, covering from the bridge of her nose to her neck. Her eyes gleamed, alert to any movement as she slipped out of the cockpit, glancing around to ensure no guards were nearby who might recognize her. Without making a sound, she moved away from the ship and, without wasting a second, agilely climbed onto the rooftops, moving precisely through the shadows. Her speed and caution were impeccable, navigating the first rays of sunlight and moving like an invisible specter across the structures.

---

Meanwhile, Floppa, Pope, Bee, Fossil, and Arthur had reached the bustling city center. Bee looked around and commented softly,

"This city... feels a lot like Coral Barrier. Look at those details on the buildings, don't you think?" Fossil nodded, observing some familiar architectural elements, recalling the city that had served as their home for a little over a month. He noted the Coral Barrier touches in the marine stone decorations and the polished structures reflecting a maritime influence.

10008, hidden in Bee's backpack, murmured with a slightly more sarcastic tone, "Sure, but much dirtier and without the original charm..." His tone was barely audible, as if speaking to himself.

Pope stopped at the large fountain in the city center, pointing to some towers and domes on the horizon. "And that... reminds me a bit of Kingsbury," he said with a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

Arthur and Floppa exchanged a glance, more observant. "At least there's nothing here that reminds me of the Ridge," Arthur commented with a relieved sigh.

Floppa smirked with a touch of irony. "Well, being a small kingdom has its advantages. We don't get much attention," he added, crossing his arms while observing the grand fountain. The monumental fountain had details from all the kingdoms, and the group watched in fascination at the stone and metal sculptures symbolizing the region's cultural diversity.

Pope sighed and looked at his companions. "I think it's better if we split up," he suggested. "That way, we'll find the Pharo faster, and maybe other things we need."

From the backpack, 10008 poked his little sea cucumber head out, shifting some objects Bee was carrying. "I can be your antenna," he offered. "I'll make contact with everyone and use an open frequency. Pope can monitor it."

"Sounds good," Pope replied. "If anyone finds any leads, report back."

With the strategy set, the group exchanged a confident look before taking different paths. Bee and Fossil headed down a side alley, which had a strong Coral Barrier vibe. The air smelled of marine spices, and Bee excitedly pointed out some algae artifacts on display.

"Look, Fossil! It looks like authentic algarium... I think I'll buy one," Bee said with a smile. Fossil, less attentive, was focused on a stall selling sugar pearls.

"Sweet, they have them here too," he remarked, approaching the vendor.

When they both asked the price of their items, they nearly fainted—it was even higher than in Coral Barrier City, which was already expensive. If not for their winnings from battles and the Sore Run, they wouldn't have any money now.

They continued exploring the alleys. Fossil found another stall, this time with flavored fried seaweed. Without hesitation, he approached again. Everything remained calm; Bee even thought that if this place was like their city, they wouldn't have to worry about getting robbed... big mistake.

Suddenly, 10008's scream from Bee's backpack shattered the tranquility. "Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..."

The sea cucumber's cry faded into the distance as a thief ran off with 10008 in his arms.

Bee started chasing after him, grabbing Fossil by the collar of his armor and pulling him along. "Run, Fossil! We'll catch him!"

Fossil, still holding the seaweed, threw a Mempoint to the vendor to pay. "Keep the change!" he shouted, hurrying after Bee.

10008 communicated with them via radio, guiding them on the thief's direction. "To the right! Near the coral sculptures, then over the turquoise rooftops, run!" His tone was tense and direct, not enthusiastic. As the thief gained distance, Bee's frustration grew.

She frowned, reaching for her belt, searching for something she'd rather not use. Her fingers found the vial with the blue and red cap: Floppa's blood vial. A mix of disgust and resignation crossed her face.

"What are you going to do?" Fossil asked, seeing her expression.

"What Floppa said," Bee replied. "Though if this doesn't work, Floppa's paying for every damn second of this disgusting mess..."

She opened the vial with a look of disgust and took a small sip. The blood had an indescribable taste—and not in a good way. Besides the iron and bitterness, she sensed something... dense, almost chemical, as if her tongue were burning on contact. Her stomach churned, and nausea overtook her, leaving an indescribable aftertaste.

"Ugh! It tastes like... anything but blood. Floppa, you bastard, damn it!" she muttered, gritting her teeth to avoid vomiting. "How could you tell me this was a good idea, with your blood tasting like rot and who knows what else? I don't know how you didn't gag when you had this in your mouth in the previous world."

The effect was immediate, and Bee felt a surge of energy coursing through her body. She grabbed Fossil's arm, and they both vanished in a flash, reappearing in front of the thief, blocking his path.

The thief stopped abruptly, surprised to see them materialize out of nowhere.

"What the...?"

Before he had a chance to react, Bee and Fossil struck him simultaneously, knocking him to the ground and leaving him unconscious. Bee quickly opened the thief's backpack and pulled out 10008, who looked both annoyed and offended.

"Are you okay, talking cucumber? Or do you want me to apologize too?" she asked, though deep down, she felt relieved to have him back.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?" he murmured, adjusting uncomfortably in Bee's hand.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. It was an oversight," Bee replied, still catching her breath as she gently stroked him. "I'll put you in the backpack, but this time you go in front. I don't want that to happen again."

Fossil, looking at the unconscious thief, laughed and muttered to Bee, "Are you going to keep that vial for next time?"

Bee shot him a sidelong glance, sighed, and reluctantly put the vial away. "I have no choice, though it'll take me years to forget this taste... But as soon as I see Floppa, he better be ready to try it himself."

Meanwhile, in the part of the city that resembled Kingsbury, Pope wandered through the narrow streets of the market. The hustle and bustle of vendors and the metallic sounds of carts and tools brought back memories of Kingsbury. The stone facades, iron-barred windows, and overall atmosphere reminiscent of 20th-century Europe filled him with nostalgia. He walked leisurely, his eyes scanning the stalls and goods as if seeing them for the first time, though everything reminded him of his time there.

As he walked, Pope stopped at a stall selling dairy products. A few jars of cream, and packages of cheese and milk made him smile nostalgically. They reminded him of the days he spent at the twins' farm while recovering from the wound in his side. He remembered helping them prepare these same products and the calm time they offered when he could do nothing but heal. Without hesitation, he took one of each and carefully placed them in his backpack, yearning to taste that familiar flavor again.

At the next stall, an older man was selling small bags of various seeds. Pope paused to examine the different varieties, touching a bag of climbing plant seeds. He wondered if any of these would grow in the mountainous climate of the range, where cold and altitude made plant life difficult.

"I'll ask Floppa what I can and can't grow in the range," he thought. Pope selected some seeds and, before paying, asked,

"Excuse me, do you know where I can find technology parts in this sector?" pointing to a row of metal parts behind the man.

The vendor, his hands cracked, smiled warmly.

"You'll find steam technology right here," he replied, pointing to a row of stalls along the square. "But if you're looking for crystal technology, you need to go to the Goldwater sector."

Pope nodded, but the man added,

"Just so you know, folks in Goldwater have been very wary lately. Ever since the kingdom disappeared from communications, they're nervous. They won't sell to just anyone. Now, if you're looking for technology from other regions, each sector has its specialties, but don't get too close to the ones from Living Jungle, Flintstone Edge, Glory Bell, Coral Barrier City, or Darakia."

Pope leaned in, intrigued, as he listened.

"Why not?" he asked, curious.

The vendor lowered his voice and glanced around, as if someone might overhear.

"Because many Eastern Alliance sympathizers aren't welcome in those sectors," he replied, waving his hand as if to ward off a bad omen.

Pope frowned. The "Eastern Alliance" didn't ring a bell—something he might need to ask his companions about later. He thanked the vendor and continued on, feeling a bit more alert. The market was vast, with interconnected alleys and plazas, and the buzz of conversations in various dialects was constant.

Just then, his attention was drawn to a man climbing onto a stone bench in the center of the square. It seemed like an important gathering spot, and the carved stone details reminded him of the grand plaza at the Kingsbury castle. He approached, curious about the growing crowd around the man. This man, with gray hair and a powerful voice, raised his hands to call for attention.

"Listen up!" he shouted. "All brave men who wish to fight alongside the princes of Kingsbury are invited to enlist. You'll be welcomed into the army ranks!"

A murmur spread through the crowd, and one listener spoke up,

"Can we join the Third Division?" he asked, hope gleaming in his eyes.

The man on the bench shook his head.

"No, the Third Division is under Prince Gale's command, and that position isn't open to the public. You can only join his sisters' regiments."

The reaction was immediate; some spectators frowned, and murmurs of discontent spread. Pope noticed the admiration in the man's words and the disappointment among the crowd, as if Prince Gale held a special place for them.

Lost in thought, Pope stepped aside and let his memories catch up to him. He knew a few things about Prince Gale—details he had heard during his time in Kingsbury. They called him the "White Demon"; he always wore a white cape in battle, and his armor was golden. Gale wasn't just one of the most ruthless and calculating princes but also an excellent warrior. He had even trained the entire Third Division, reputedly the best section of Kingsbury's army—a leader who had evidently earned deep, unwavering loyalty.

"And now they're calling for more soldiers," Pope thought, feeling the air around him grow heavier. He recalled the vendor's words, the mention of the Eastern Alliance, and how the people of Goldwater already distrusted strangers. The unease was palpable, even here in the market. Pope exhaled slowly, a mix of concern and discomfort settling in.

"Is everything really on the brink of war?" he wondered, casting one last glance at the man on the bench, still addressing the crowd.

He tightened his grip on his backpack straps, feeling the weight of his small purchases. In a world where tensions seemed to be rising and factions were becoming increasingly evident, he and his companions needed to stay under the radar, find the Pharo quickly, and get away from this increasingly toxic atmosphere.

Arthur and Floppa walked through the bustling streets of the Goldwater sector, surrounded by people who moved with the urgency of those who knew the value of time. They wore simple clothes, but the emblem of the sparrow on their shoulders—one a brilliant purple and the other a gleaming gold—marked them as members of the Wright Range nobility. No one in Goldwater had received news that there was an heir.

"See that spice shop?" Arthur pointed to a colorful stall decorated with aromatic herbs. "If you had a good nose, you'd know that could be dangerous. Maybe we should find something more... edible."

Floppa chuckled, enjoying the company. "Edible? Since when do you care about that? You nearly killed me the first time you cooked for me."

Arthur just laughed, and they continued walking through the sector's corridors.

As they moved forward, Arthur and Floppa asked around about the pharo; they couldn't be too far, after all, it was crystal technology.

"How much is it?" Floppa asked with interest after finding one in good condition at an older woman's stall.

"Five Mem Points," the woman said, looking them up and down as if assessing their wealth.

Floppa pulled out six from his pocket. "Here you go. The extra is for you." As he handed over the money, Arthur gave the woman a healing potion, noticing her complaints about her aching bones. "This will help," he said, smiling.

"Thank you, young ones," the woman said gratefully.

With the pharo in hand, Floppa tucked it into one of his pockets. "Alright, we have our pharo. Now, what else can we do?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Maybe we should consider what that man said about the approaching war. The people here seem worried. We should also tell Momox to get to work," Arthur suggested as they walked.

"Worried? Yeah, they are. It seems like every time I visit a new place, there's some problem in sight," Floppa replied, laughing.

The two friends continued walking, chatting about meaningless things when suddenly, someone bumped into Floppa. He turned around, used to this kind of accident, and apologized. But he instantly felt the pharo was no longer with him.

"Wait!" he shouted, looking around desperately.

Turning, he saw a girl, her eyes wide with surprise and anger.

"Give back the pharo!" Floppa yelled, his voice cutting through the market's noise.

The girl didn't stop. Instead, she started running, and Floppa felt the chase impulse take over. "I can't use my super speed; I'd cause a mess... Damn," he quickly thought. "Arthur, get on the radio! Tell the others to head back to the ship and get ready for takeoff! I'll catch up with you."

Arthur responded, pulling out his radio swiftly. "Alright, but be careful, Floppa. We don't know what else could happen here."

"I'm always careful!" Floppa replied, though his mind was already focused on the girl ahead. He rushed after her, feeling his heart pounding and the hum of his TA field ready to activate if things got complicated.

"She's fast, I'll give her that," he thought, noting how the girl moved with practiced skill and boldness. She leaped across rooftops, barely touching the ground before launching to the next building. "If I don't get the pharo back, Pope's gonna kill me..."

The girl moved with a confidence that Floppa admired, despite the situation. Just when he thought he could catch her, he saw her press a button on a wristband. "What the hell is she doing?" he wondered. He teleported to close the gap, appearing a few steps ahead of her.

"End of the road. Give me the pharo," Floppa said firmly.

The girl dodged him, forcing them to keep running. Floppa noticed her breathing getting heavier, giving him a slight advantage.

They reached the edge of a building. The girl stopped, cornered. "You run well, I can't deny it," Floppa said, with a mix of respect and frustration. "But you've lost. I just need you to return the pharo, please." He raised his arms to show he wouldn't try anything.

The girl, however, had no intention of surrendering. With an agile move, she dropped off the building. Floppa rushed to the edge and watched in horror as she disappeared into the air. Without thinking, he prepared to jump when a shadow passed beneath.

"What the hell?!" Floppa shouted, but it was too late. A gunship—the same one patrolling the Cordillera—rose into the air and flew away. "Oh God... This is bad," he muttered, clutching his chest, trying to catch his breath. "Pope's gonna kill me..."

Meanwhile, inside the gunship, Chara removed the bandana covering her face.

"That guy was more persistent than I thought," she murmured, breathing deeply to calm down. Her mind filled with images of the prince from the Wright mountain range.

"He's not just the prince they talked about in Kingsbury... He's the same guy I saw from my window... The one who fell in the star." Chara took a breath. "I have to investigate this later."

As her ship flew away, Chara looked back at the horizon, where Desolea's buildings grew smaller. She had the pieces for her weapon, but something about the prince intrigued her.

"Why is he chasing me? Does he know I'm the princess of Goldwater? No... It can't be," she thought, a knot of curiosity and worry forming. If he knew, she might have already dragged Goldwater into trouble with their last ally. "But that doesn't matter now. I need to focus on my mission."

---

Hours later, the group was back in the air, with the sunset painting the sky in shades of orange and violet. The Sparrow glided smoothly through the wind like a silver fish cutting through the sky, while the fighter ship loomed as a shadow behind it. The absence of the pharo and Floppa's failure hung in the air.

"What if we try a couple of mirrors?" Floppa suggested, turning his head to look at Arthur.

"Mirrors?" Arthur frowned. "And what would we do with that? Reflect the moonlight so Pope can see Dann in the dark?"

Floppa let out a tired laugh, still deftly maneuvering the glider. The sun was setting on the horizon, and night was beginning to take over the landscape.

"Don't be like that. I'm just saying if we don't have the pharo, we need to think of something else. A light projector or something that can work as a compass."

—I'm afraid it won't work, my friend. The Pharo isn't just an object; it's the key piece. —Arthur sighed, crossing his arms. He had become the pragmatist of the group, something that suited him, but also frustrated him.

Bee, who had been listening to the conversation, couldn't help but intervene. She was adjusting her gas mask while glaring at Floppa reproachfully.

—How about you don't make me drink your blood next time? —she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Floppa was silent for a moment, perplexed.

—What? You drank it? —he asked, incredulous.

—Yes, I drank it —Bee replied, now visibly annoyed—. And it didn't just taste like blood; it felt like a strange mix of—I don't know how many other things! It's a taste I'll never forget.

Floppa let out a nervous laugh, almost ready to cry between laughter and desperation.

—I didn't tell you to drink it, just to use it as a source, like you would with any other person.

Bee remained silent, but soon cursed him again.

—This is all your fault. Who in their right mind thinks someone else's blood is a good way to copy powers?

—What did you want, a piece of skin? —Floppa shouted as he aligned with the chase ship.

Arthur, who couldn't stop smiling at the exchange, interrupted:

—You should be grateful, Bee. Thanks to that, you still have 10008.

—Oh, don't tell me! —Bee said sarcastically—. Maybe next time, you could warn me, Floppa. I never want to do that again.

As the landscape turned into dense darkness, Floppa kept his gaze fixed ahead. Through the nocturnal haze, they could see the silhouettes of trees and mushrooms in the Corruption Forest. For the second time that day, Floppa hated the idea of not being able to explore. Maybe today, he could have found something interesting.

—I hope the girl who stole the Pharo doesn't come back. —Floppa murmured, recalling the determined look of the stranger.

—It was a woman? —Arthur asked, almost in a whisper, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

—Yes, and that's not what frustrates me. It frustrates me because she outran me... damn it —said Floppa, gripping the control cylinders tightly on the lower railings as they approached the tree line.

Bee, who had recovered some of her humor, teased him.

—Don't you think that luck flew off in her gunship? If she outran you, she probably would've beaten you in a fight too.

Floppa smiled, but his mind was elsewhere, thinking about what could have happened if he had recovered the Pharo. If only the girl hadn't been so fast... or rather, so unpredictable.

However, night was falling around them, and although the landscape was turning grim, the team still had hope that they could find another way to locate Dann. Deep down, though, Pope knew the situation might force them to put that search on hold. Things in Desolea were not looking good at all.