The march pressed deeper into the mountains, and the world grew stranger with every step, In the distant he noitced a small faint white red dome. The path, already treacherous, The ground beneath their boots shifted from rough stone to a shimmering expanse, where shards of crystal jutted from the earth like broken teeth, catching the dim light in fleeting glints. The moon had vanished, swallowed by a ceiling of shadow so absolute it felt like walking inside a void. In places, the ground turned dark and smooth, fused into circular patches of glass by the sun's relentless heat, now cooled and unyielding underfoot. The air carried a faint hum, barely audible, like the echo of something long dormant.
Shun, silver hair gleaming faintly under the shadowed sky, adjusted his grip on his sword, wings tucked tight against his back. His blue eyes flicked to Belial, who led the way with his cloak snapping in the biting wind. "Anything we should watch for?" Shun asked, voice steady but sharp, cutting through the low whistle of the breeze.
Belial's response came flat, almost bored. "Just the usual swarm of Primes."
Shun's exhale was sharp, a mix of grim amusement and frustration. "Good to know."
Belial's violet eye twitched, a flicker of irritation at Shun's calm retort. He turned his gaze forward, boots crunching over crystalline growths that shattered like thin ice with each step. The terrain rose and fell in uneven mounds, dotted with strange plants, twisted and leafless, their stems infested with translucent nodes that pulsed faintly, as if charged with some unnatural energy. The group moved cautiously, the non-Emergents huddling closer, their breaths visible in the frigid air. Toren, his dented armor creaking with every movement, kept his head low but his eyes alert, scanning the jagged horizon and him. Xin, Wheel strapped across his back, swept his gaze over the surroundings with relentless focus, his hands flexing as if anticipating a fight. Rose, her dark hair tucked under a hood, walked among the non-Emergents, her rousing smile a quiet anchor for their growing fear.
The path led them to a massive pillar, half-buried in the crystalline earth. It towered over them, a monolith like the spine of some ancient titan, its surface dull and pitted, scarred by time. Xin paused, drawn to it, and brushed his fingers across its surface. The texture was unsettling, smooth in patches, jagged in others, as if shaped by forces beyond comprehension. He let his ether vision slip open, and the world transformed. Colors blurred into streams of particles, and lines of power threaded the pillar like veins, faint but alive. Components of something vast and intricate vibrated just beneath the surface, their energy old but undeniable, pulsing in rhythm with the strange plants nearby.
Xin's gaze lifted, and his stomach sank. More pillars stretched across the landscape, dozens of them, some standing tall, others toppled like fallen giants. Cracked and leaning, they littered the ground, reduced to heaps of splintered stone and crystal in places. The broken forest of relics extended into the distance, fading into the shadowed haze. Some pillars bore faint carvings, eroded lines that might have once been symbols or circuits, now worn to near obscurity. The air around them seemed heavier, as if the weight of their age pressed down on the group.
"Where are we?" Xin's voice was low, almost a whisper, his eyes locked on the eerie expanse.
Belial didn't look up. His gaze stayed fixed on the path ahead, his tone casual but carrying a shadow of weight. "Graveyard, of course."
The word landed heavily, silencing the group. The wind hissed through the crystalline shards, carrying a faint metallic tang that stung the back of their throats. Shun stepped beside Xin, his blue eyes scanning the pillars, their surfaces reflecting the dim glow of the pulsing plants. "Graveyard of what?" he asked, voice calm but edged with demand, his hand resting lightly on his sword hilt.
Belial shrugged, his cloak shifting as he moved forward, stepping over a cluster of shattered crystal. "Does it matter? Things die. Things fall. We keep walking."
Toren's gauntleted hand flexed, his voice a low rumble, barely audible over the wind. "That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you get," Belial said, glancing back with a sharp grin. "Unless you want to stay and dig for history lessons. I wouldn't recommend it."
Rose spoke up, her voice soft but clear, cutting through the tension. "Are these machines? Or something else?"
Belial tilted his head, considering her for a moment, his grin softening slightly. "Clever girl. They're something else. Built by hands long gone. Or claws. Or whatever they had."
The non-Emergents shifted uneasily, their whispers growing tense, their eyes darting to the shadows between the pillars. One, a wiry man with sunken eyes and a patchy beard, clutched his cloak tighter, his knuckles white. "Are they dangerous?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
Belial's grin widened, showing a hint of teeth. "Not anymore. They're dead. Mostly."
"Mostly?" Toren's eyes narrowed, his hand drifting toward the hilt of his blade.
"Relax, hero," Belial said, waving a hand dismissively. "If they were going to wake up, they'd have done it by now. Probably."
Shun's hand rested on his sword hilt, his gaze sweeping the broken pillars, their jagged edges catching the faint light. "You're not inspiring confidence."
"Confidence is overrated," Belial replied, his tone light but his eyes sharp. "Awareness keeps you alive. Keep your eyes open, and we might make it through."
The group pressed on, the pillars looming like silent sentinels, their shadows stretching long across the crystalline ground. The terrain grew more treacherous, the shards sharper, forcing them to step carefully to avoid slicing their boots or tripping on the uneven surface. The strange plants pulsed brighter now, their translucent nodes casting faint glows that flickered in the void-like darkness, creating fleeting patterns of light and shadow. The air grew colder, the wind more biting, and the metallic scent thickened, clinging to their clothes and skin like damp mist.
Xin's ether vision remained active, revealing faint traces of energy weaving through the ground, connecting the pillars in a web of faded power. The lines pulsed weakly, like the last breaths of a dying machine, their rhythm uneven but persistent. He frowned, his mind racing as he traced the connections. "These weren't just structures," he said, half to himself, his voice barely audible over the crunch of their boots. "They were part of something bigger. A system."
Belial glanced back, one eyebrow raised, his eye glinting in the dim light. "Look at you, piecing it together. Care to share with the class?"
Xin ignored the jab, his focus locked on the faint energy threads. "They're linked. Like components in a machine. But it's broken now."
"Broken's one word for it," Belial said, his tone dry. "Smashed, obliterated, forgotten. Pick your favorite. Doesn't change our path."
Shun's voice cut through, sharp and focused. "Does this graveyard affect our route?"
Belial paused, his grin fading for a moment, his expression unreadable. "It's the direct route, so yes. Primes like to wander here. Something about the energy, maybe. Or they're just nostalgic."
Toren's jaw clenched, his hand tightening on his sword hilt. "You better not be lying."
"How can I?" Belial said, shrugging, his cloak fluttering in the wind. "You chose the fast way. This is what fast looks like."
Rose stepped closer to Shun, her voice low but steady. "Can we avoid the Primes?"
Belial answered before Shun could, his tone sharp but not unkind. "Avoid? Maybe. Outrun? Doubtful. Fight?...Hope you're feeling heroic."
Shun's blue eyes met Belial's violet ones, unflinching, a silent challenge passing between them. "We need a plan. Now."
Belial spread his hands, his grin returning, though it carried a hint of weariness. "Plan's simple. Move fast. Stay quiet. If a Prime shows up, you and Toren hold the line, Xin works the magic, and I improvise."
"Improvise," Toren muttered, his tone flat, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the shadows.
"It's a talent," Belial said, flashing a grin. "You'll see."