The clearing was quiet except for the rustle of branches and the distant hiss of wind sliding through the trees. Maku perched on a high limb above, framed by shafts of late-morning sunlight.

  “You ready, big guy?” he called down, voice echoing through the hollow.

  Barrett rolled his shoulders, settling into a low stance. His machete spun lazily in his hand, catching a glint of light like a predator’s grin. “Bring it.”

  Maku tilted his head toward a smaller branch across from him, where Grimm puffed his chest out proudly.

  “And you, big bird?”

  Chirp—chirp!

  Barrett smirked. “He’s ready.”

  “Okay! First wave incoming!” Maku shouted.

  He vaulted to another branch, rattling leaves as he purposely drew the attention of three goblins skulking nearby. Their shrieks rose as they barreled into the clearing.

  [Goblin Warrior — Level 5]

  [Goblin Warrior — Level 6]

  [Goblin Warrior — Level 5]

  Low-level fodder, but perfect for what they were testing.

  Barrett exhaled and activated [Predator’s Mark].

  The world blinked.

  A cool blue aura flared around Grimm’s and Barrett’s eyes. Suddenly, the goblins weren’t just seen—they were known, each one a pulsing point in his awareness, moving through the air like colored heat signatures on the inner walls of his mind.

  “What in the name of liberty…” Barrett turned in a slow arc, then shut his eyes completely.

  And still, the goblins were there, blurred silhouettes glowing against a black and white backdrop.

  He opened them again quickly. The sensing wasn’t perfect. It was vague, low-res shapes rather than clear positions, but the potential was intriguing. There’d be challenges folding it into his fighting style, but once he mastered it, it would be like having a full 360 degrees of awareness wrapped around him.

  The goblins charged. Barrett shifted aside, letting their blades whistle past as he parried and threw them off balance.

  “Send more!” he barked.

  “You asked for it!” Maku grinned.

  He aggro’d another trio from the underbrush and herded them forward.

  [Goblin Warrior — Level 5]

  [Goblin Warrior — Level 6]

  [Goblin Warrior — Level 5]

  Barrett inhaled, checking how many signals pressed against his awareness now.

  Chirp—chirp! Grimm cried out sharply from the branch above.

  Barrett nodded. “Four. Looks like that’s our cap for now.”

  “Noted,” Maku said and then sprang skyward.

  A shimmering mana disk formed beneath his foot, launching him even higher. While suspended in mid-air, a halo of spinning blue missiles coalesced around him like orbiting planets.

  Then. Release!

  The missiles streaked downward with surgical precision, striking goblin after goblin in bursts of light. Barrett watched, amazed, as each shot found its mark.

  When Maku landed on a second disk and drifted back to the ground, sweat lined his brow, his breath sharp and shallow.

  “Damn…” Barrett breathed. “Guess I’m not the only one with new weapons.”

  Maku managed a tired grin. “Yeah…don’t get too comfy up there.”

  A sudden chirp sliced through the clearing.

  Grimm wobbled on his branch and then leapt.

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  “Grimm—NO!” they shouted together.

  For a heartbeat, the little raven flapped valiantly, hanging in the air like a hopeful dream.

  Then gravity remembered him.

  Maku snapped a mana disk beneath the falling bird, but he was drained; the platform flickered and shattered under Grimm’s weight.

  Barrett lunged and caught him against his chest just before he hit the earth.

  The bird trembled with embarrassment, feathers puffed in indignation.

  Barrett laughed softly. “Easy, little buddy. You don’t have to impress us. You’ll fly when you’re ready.”

  Chirp…chirp.

  A sheepish reply. The tiny warrior was humbled.

  Barrett scratched the raven’s head. “Yeah…we’ve all been there.”

  The clearing fell quiet again, except for the heartbeat of two men and one very determined bird, training for war.

  —Rei—

  Rei studied the map in her lap, the canvas tent lit only by a thin shaft of morning light. Nearly every circled point had been crossed out—claimed. The work had taken days, mostly because the idiot who’d written the notes had the handwriting of a doctor crossed with a walrus. Half the landmarks were mislabeled. One location had been written down as:

  “Big rock by river.”

  Which one? There were dozens of big rocks by the river.

  Yet despite his incompetence, she had tracked the marks, pieced the puzzle together, and claimed every treasure. Her impressive level 20 was proof enough.

  She absentmindedly flipped the page behind the map.

  It was a panel of Calvin telling his mom he needed to “look cool for babes.”

  A quiet laugh slipped from her.

  Then, a rustle behind her.

  “Morning,” Fred mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

  Her mood soured in an instant.

  She ignored him, narrowing her attention to the map again. There were decisions to make. They had gathered resources, hunted gems, and strengthened their forces. But to what end? What were they supposed to do in this world? Did that muscular buffoon know anything at all? The thought irritated her.

  She also wondered about the old man in the aloha shirt, the one who’d vanished without warning. Had he known something too?

  A shift of weight behind her. Warm breath touched her shoulder. Arms slipped lazily around her waist.

  She shoved him with an elbow.

  “Get off. You reek of those cigars.”

  Footsteps shuffled backward. She didn’t bother to look. She could picture the sulk forming already.

  She didn’t have time or patience to coddle a middle-aged man’s feelings. Not today.

  “Where’s Jason and his team? They were supposed to check the swamp marker for a gem.”

  “Dunno,” Fred grunted.

  Sulking confirmed.

  She spun on him. “Fred. You’re supposed to track the teams, not lie around sucking on those stinking cigars.”

  Fred smirked faintly. “Say what you want, but that moron had good taste in cigars.”

  “What’s wrong with you? When I first met you, you took charge. Now you lie around with no plan, no discipline, nothing!”

  His jaw twitched. “I’m getting really tired of you talking down to me like that.”

  She stepped close enough for him to feel her breath, stare razor-edged.

  “Then do something about it.”

  A long beat.

  Fred broke eye contact, looking down.

  She exhaled sharply. Thought so.

  She opened her mouth to issue new orders—

  The tent flap burst open.

  “Rei, Fred—we have a situation,” Tanya said, voice clipped.

  Rei strode out, annoyance already rising. Fred followed while tugging a shirt over his head. Tanya’s look of disapproval made Rei’s eye twitch. She was really getting tired of that woman’s moral superiority act.

  “Well?” Rei snapped.

  Tanya gestured sharply. Two goons stepped forward—Jason’s men—white as sheets, hands trembling. One held a sack. A wet sack. Something dark dripped from the bottom.

  Rei’s stomach tightened.

  “We…we were out hunting with Jason,” one of them stammered. “We ran into two guys.”

  “Where’s Jason?” Fred demanded. “I need him here now.”

  The two exchanged a look.

  “It was that kid—uh…Mike?” one offered weakly.

  “Max?” the other corrected.

  “Yeah, Max. And the other guy…the one with the American flag bandana…”

  He trailed off. Eyes lowered.

  Rei’s breath caught. “Donovan?”

  Fred stepped forward. “What were they doing? And where the hell is Jason?”

  The man holding the sack broke. Tears welled. His voice cracked.

  “H-he told us to bring you this.”

  He opened the sack.

  Rei and Fred leaned in.

  Both recoiled instantly.

  The sack snapped shut again. The two men turned away, visibly shaking.

  “Barrett Donovan,” Fred whispered, stunned, “that psycho with the machete…did that to Jason?”

  Rei rounded on him, fury boiling over. “Do you see now? I told you! You hesitated, but I told you he had to be eliminated!”

  Tanya, unfazed, addressed the goons. “Do you know what his next move is?”

  The two men looked at each other, swallowing hard.

  “He…he said he’s coming,” one whispered.

  “And he…” the other began.

  Fred snapped, “Out with it!”

  The man squeaked:

  “He said…he’s taking a finger for every cigar he finds missing.”

  Fred’s face drained of color. His mouth flapped uselessly.

  Rei watched him.

  Good, she thought coldly. Now you understand what you’re dealing with.

  —

  Barrett approached the camp a few days later, a couple hours before sunset. He had been dying to come earlier, but every good story needed tension. Let the music build. Let the audience hold their breath before the drop.

  His face and Maku’s were streaked with river mud, dark bands blending them into the underbrush. Grimm, already naturally black, had insisted on smearing mud across his beak anyway. The little guy always wanted to be part of the squad.

  “Shouldn’t you at least take off that bright bandana if we’re trying to blend in?” Maku asked.

  Barrett chuckled, “I know you didn’t just ask me to get rid of the Stars and Stripes.”

  Maku groaned. “Fine. Whatever. Are we still good on the plan?”

  Barrett’s grin sharpened into something wicked.

  “Actually,” he said, voice low and pleased, “I’ve changed my mind.”

  Maku froze. “You what?” His voice cracked before he forced it back down to a whisper.

  “I can’t do this stealth thing, man. I need…” Barrett inhaled deeply, smiling as if savoring a scent. “…a moment. A delicious moment.”

  “Seriously?! Right now?!”

  Barrett nodded, every inch of him radiating unhinged confidence.

  “Daddys come home,” he murmured, stepping forward, “and he’s heard the kids have been very, very naughty.”