"…and now, researchers from the Green Desert region have finally disclosed their findings from their latest series of experiments…"
A calm voice drifted through the mist, crisp and clear against the wet air. Yet here, it didn't echo through an old radio, sounding like metallic gears grinding against each other. It echoed directly across the air around them, like the jungle itself was speaking.
"…fortunately, the new information aligns with the existing theories…"
As the expedition journeyed through the swamp, the broadcast continued to play. The voice that brought them news was special, it did not spread in all direction, but seemed to directly fall in the team member's ears. Every word came with a breath, as if lungs hidden in the air exhaled it.
"...on to sports. The 40th Annual Eternal Sky Diving tournament kicked off..."
Lume squinted at the glowing orb settled in Eira's hand,,, a small sphere of aqua light, pulsing faintly. He rubbed off mud from his sleeve. "The broadcast has been delayed ever since we entered this region, any ideas?"
"Our current environment obscures all signals unconsciously," Mira answered. "And the broadcasting nodes aren't exactly powerful artifacts. This segment should probably be from two days ago. The node is repeating what it collected to provide a stable version."
Dr. Korr smirked. "Or its malfunctioning, depending on your faith in biological data."
The others ignored his comment, as the voice droned onward about sky divers above Jogi Forest.
"Right, right," Lume muttered. "Heard that one,,, falling for fun because you can't die. Genius sport of the century."
Eira silenced them with a small gesture. "Listen closely. We have to remain updated about the world at all times, even if it's delayed. Any information can become crucial at any moment"
They listened.
"…a hundred and thirty-five people registered for the event…"
Taren frowned. "Wasn't it seventy something last year?"
Korr shrugged. "The Yoddha Guild is actually handing out seven course meals as incentive to increase the registrations. Those guys seem to be planning something big maybe"
The others nodded in understanding. They had some understanding towards why the Yoddha Guild was trying so hard to expand their influence, but it was of no relation to their mission.
"...Joro has reached the Asura point, it seems this might be his final attempt as success is so close..."
"Do you think the ascetics at the Devta's peak will great him?" Lume asked, swatting a sly away.
"It is unclear if any ascetics still reside on that sacred mountain, but maybe that mystery will be solved finally?" Mira pondered out loud. She was actually a big fan of the sports section, even though the activities described weren't the most appealing or fun. A world stuck in death had its ways to twist even the gentlest souls.
As the segment seemed to be coming to an end, the group suddenly paused.
The final member of the expedition, walking slightly ahead through knee‑deep mire, had her hands raised. "Let's not speak or utter any sounds from here on." Her voice was quiet, neutral, yet carried weight. "I can feel the Guardian is still asleep and I do not want that to change."
The sphere in Eira's hand dimmed, and the living broadcast ended, the final phrase slowly disappearing as the group started moving again, slower and with a much more cautious air.
"Signing off now, keep tuning in to the New era's Voice. The world is awake, and so are you."
The swamp pressed around them like a living lung. The air shimmered; roots pulsed faintly; vines shifted around without sound. Each step sunk deeper into breathing mud.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
"This is suicide," Lume muttered. "We should've taken the desert route."
"You could have," Korr said, wiping his glasses clean of condensation. "But your employer chose otherwise."
"I didn't realize listening to orders meant walking into a living forest."
Mira laughed dryly, fixing her sensor pad. "Just keep moving before it digests your boots. We have left the core region, just deal with it for another day."
Eira led steadily, each step deliberate, her white coat smeared gray. She looked more like a pilgrim than a scientist here. "Adherence is part of assessment," she said. "Besides, we prepared sufficiently. Traversing this swamp is just the beginning of our journey. It doesn't even count as a test."
"Assessment?" Lume huffed, brushing leech‑like filaments off his trousers. "Is that what this is,,, some secret evaluation?"
The sixth member's tone stayed flat. "Consider it a filter. If a team can't follow one order, it won't survive many. And the journey that our employer wants us to make, its going to be a million times worse than this."
"Whose orders?" he snapped back.
She didn't answer, and that silence said enough.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
They trekked through a labyrinth of gnarled trees whose bark gleamed like wet moss. The farther they went, the quieter the swamp became until no sound was heard. Even the sound from their movement was muted. It felt like the swamp was holding its breath. The team felt unease grow within.
The growth in this area was far too close for comfort. Thankfully they hadn't encountered any creatures yet. Because the only source of light they had was the dim glowing sticks in each member's hands. No sunlight reached the ground here.
As they followed the lead of their pathfinder, Lume and Dr. Korr couldn't help but get irritated, finding it difficult to hold in their emotions. Lume raised his hand, in an action to throw his glow stick, but Eira interrupted him quickly. The group paused, as Eira quickly administered an antidote.
"The poison is acting up much frequently. How much longer do you think? I feel like the Zehar swamp has already noticed our presence." Mira helped their team leader, while questioning their sixth member.
"You're right, the swamp is slowly awakening, stopping us from leaving. Thankfully we left the core region earlier than planned. At our current pace, we will leave this swamp in a few hours. Our destination shouldn't be much farther away after we exit."
This was the longest they had heard the pathfinder speak. The environment was getting to her as well.
The poison in this swamp affected the mind. It constantly surrounded them, trying to penetrate deeper into their subconsciousness. Not only did they have to hold their breath indefinitely, they were also using a gel coating over their bodies to prevent it from seeping in through pores.
Taren, keeping rear guard, finally spoke: "Explain this Specialist. You all keep treating him like some messiah of the wasteland. Why is he necessary for our journey?"
Lume looked up from his scanner. "You mean you never heard the stories? Guy mapped the Ash Seas alone, crossed nine borders in the earliest years. Supposedly walked into the numerous forbidden zones and came back alive."
Taren grunted. "Fairy tales. Before the Cataclysm, he was just a mercenary doing odd jobs, too scared to come in the light."
"Maybe," Lume smiled, "but fairy tales usually start somewhere true. Even back then he was among the top Special-grade mercenaries."
Eira's voice cut through: "He isn't myth. He's a necessity."
Dr. Korr glanced at her. "And liability, perhaps. Relics like him prefer their solitude—for good reasons."
Only the sixth member remained wordless. For her, the silence was memory.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Hours later, the swamp began to thin. The air cooled as golden sand spilled like veins into the mud. They reached the first solid ground—a ragged slope where two worlds met.
Mira raised her scanner. "Environmental shift detected. Temperatures stable, toxins zero,,, we have finally left the damn swamp."
Eira stepped ahead. A strange white monolith, carved out of rock stuck in sand appeared before them. Beaten but upright, covered in vines. Someone had placed it there deliberately.
Lume crouched, tilting the light closer. "It's made of Volcanic rock, seems to be hibernating. Human-made."
Out of habit, Taren touched his blade's hilt. "Boundary marker?"
The sixth member knelt beside it. Her gloved fingertips brushed faint engravings running down its length—patterns that shimmered faintly gold when exposed to air. There was a strange familiarity in those patterns.
"He built this one."
Korr folded his arms. "Built? You make it sound like a monument."
Her eyes lingered on the faint glow. "No," she said softly. "A warning."
A wind passed through the clearing, carrying sand and fog. For a heartbeat, the air above the ridge shimmered, the same meeting of gold and green, entwining before dispersing above the pass where two biomes met.
Lume instinctively raised his hand to shade his eyes. "What the hell was that?"
"Alignment," Mira whispered. "Two domains repelling each other. If you went out a little more you would come across such phenomena in many places."
Eira turned toward the horizon where their instruments glitched with static. "Or greeting each other," she murmured, not sure which would be worse.
The sixth member stood, looking in the direction away from the monolith. Where he still kept guard, away from all humanity. "We're close," she said simply. "The Specialist keeps balance here. I told you he's real."
Taren spat into the mud. "Let's pray he likes visitors."