The crackle of the campfire was the only sound in the clearing, aside from the rhythmic scraping of spoons against wooden bowls. Eve, Parker, Nile, and Michael sat in a loose circle, the savory steam of rabbit stew drifting between them.

  “I think we finally have a name for this place,” Nile said, pausing with a spoonful of stew halfway to his mouth.

  Eve looked up, her brow arched in amusement. “This place already has a name, Nile. It’s called .”

  Nile chuckled, shaking his head. “No, not the whole continent or the ruins. I mean for the village we’re building right here. I was thinking... .”

  “That’s not half bad!” Michael chimed in, leaning back against a log. “Simple. Descriptive.”

  “It’s boring,” Eve countered with a smirk. “How about ? It has a nice ring to it.”

  “Ha! That’s way too Elvish,” Nile interjected, waving his spoon for emphasis. “If we go that route, we might as well start living in trees and eating nothing but berries. How about ?”

  Eve rolled her eyes playfully. “And you thought suggestion was Elvish? Woodsdale sounds like a retirement home for forest spirits.”

  “Fine, fine,” Nile said, laughing. “You’re right. Hmm... Michael, Parker, any other ideas? You two have been quiet.”

  “I’m good with whatever the group decides,” Michael said, giving a diplomatic shrug. “I’ve liked all the suggestions so far, but I’m more concerned with the roof on the third hut than the name on the gate.”

  “Parker? Earth to Parker?” Nile called out, noticing the middle aged man staring blankly into the dancing flames.

  Parker didn't blink. He seemed miles away, his eyes glazed over as he watched the embers pop and fly into the night air.

  “Parker!” Nile raised his voice, finally snapping the silence.

  “What?” Parker blinked, the world rushing back into focus. He looked around at the three sets of eyes watching him. “Sorry... did you say something?”

  “We’re trying to come up with a name for the village,” Nile repeated, leaning forward. “Any ideas?”

  “Huh? A name for the village?” Parker asked. He took a long look around the clearing, eyeing the sturdy wooden structures and the half-finished frames of the new dwellings. He looked back at the campfire with a shrug. “How about ? Since, you know, it’s full of huts?”

  Nile’s face lit up. “It’s simple. Honestly? I like it.” He looked around the circle for a consensus.

  Eve let out a long, theatrical sigh, her dreams of an elegant Elven name dissolving into the woodsmoke. “Yeah... I guess we can use that one,” she conceded, though her tone suggested she might try to change it later.

  “Huttsville sounds like a great idea to me,” Michael added with a supportive nod.

  Nile stood up, puffing out his chest as if he were addressing a royal court. “Then it’s settled! By decree of the campfire, this village is henceforth called Huttsville

  “Glad I could help,” Parker said, pushing himself up from his log. He looked toward the dark tree line where his own shelter stood. “I think I’m going to turn in for the night.”

  “Oh, such a party pooper!” Nile cried, throwing his hands up. “That’s okay. Eve and I can spend more time getting to know each other.”

  Parker stopped and turned around, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Nile, I think I need help with something in my hut.”

  “You need help with something!” Nile groaned. “Can’t I spend some time out here just this once?”

  “Nile?” Parker interrupted, his voice dropping an octave. “Remember? You need to be .”

  Nile’s bravado deflated instantly. He looked at Eve, then back at Parker’s stern face. “Okay, fine. I guess it’s my time to turn in as well.” He turned back to Eve and gave a clumsy, sweeping bow that nearly sent him toppling into the stew pot. “I bid the lady farewell... or, uh, I mean goodnight.”

  “,” Parker cleared his throat loudly, already walking toward the huts.

  “Yes on my way, goodnight Michael.” Nile said, walking away from the campfire to follow Parker.

  Nile scrambled to catch up, leaving Eve and Michael laughing quietly by the fire.

  “Is he always like that around you?” Michael asked Eve.

  “I’m afraid so,” Eve sighed, though a small, tired smile played on her lips as she watched Nile disappear into the shadows behind Parker.

  “Ha! I guess you can’t blame the man for trying,” Michael laughed, stoking the fire with a stray branch.

  “I guess not,” Eve agreed. She leaned forward, the firelight dancing in her eyes. “By the way... what was your planet like? I have heard a few things from Scott, but I’d like to know more from your perspective.”

  Michael took a moment, his gaze drifting into the flames as he pulled up memories of a world that felt like a dream. “Where we’re from, there was a small county called Legion. I lived on the outskirts, in the countryside. It wasn’t too far from downtown. It was full of trees and rivers—plenty of dirt roads, but a lot of paved ones to drive on aswell.”

  “Drive?” Eve asked, tilting her head. “You mean like Horses and wagons?”

  “Well yes and no, we had motorized vehicles that we would use to get to places faster and the Amish have their horses and buggies. Think of a wooden wagon, but without the horse. It had an engine that turned the wheels, a steering wheel for direction, and pedals to inject a fuel we called gasoline.”

  “Fascinating,” Eve whispered, her mind clearly trying to visualize a horse-less carriage screaming down a stone road. “And what did you do for a living? Did you drive these vehicles as your trade?”

  Michael let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, no. I mean, I had a vehicle to get to work, but my job was different. I worked in a factory making medications—healers' potions, essentially—for people all around our world.”

  “Oh! So you practiced Alchemy?” Eve’s eyes widened with newfound respect.

  “Sort of,” Michael replied with a humble shrug. “I was in the packaging department. I worked with a ton of other people, packing the medications into boxes and shipping them off to a giant warehouse. We didn't use cauldrons; we used massive machines and tanks.”

  "Interesting, what did you do before that?" Eve asked.

  “I was part of the military—a Marine,” Michael said, his posture naturally straightening. “Served eight years. Semper Fi... Hoorah!” He stood up for a brief moment, snapping a crisp salute to the empty night air before sitting back down with a grin.

  “That must have been terrifying,” Eve whispered. To her, "military" meant shields, spells, and the brutal clashing of steel she’d seen in elven histories.

  “Oh, it wasn’t all that bad,” Michael replied, his voice softening. “Serving my country had its moments, both good and bad, but ultimately I wouldn’t have changed it for anything. It made me who I am. But what about you? What did you do before the world changed?”

  “I worked for my father,” Eve said. “Helping him stay organized and writing his speeches for the Council of Elders, all while attending the school of magic.”

  “Cool, cool,” Michael nodded. He paused, then asked the question that usually came up during late-night watches. “Did you ever marry? Or have a life mate?”

  Eve rocked in place with her arms around her legs. “I was set up to be—as you humans say—a wife to the son of another Council member. Nanduron, son of Doron, of the House of Haramir. But when the System happened, we never got the chance to .”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Michael said softly. “Did he... pass away during the Shift?”

  “No, not to my knowledge,” Eve replied, her voice firming up. “He simply wasn’t the elf I thought he was. He craved power and the seat on the Council more than he cared for a union. When I realized he wanted control more than love, I broke it off.”

  Michael offered a supportive smile. “His loss, then. Sounds like you dodged an arrow there.”

  Eve looked up at him, her eyeless face searching the darkness. “And you, Michael? Do you have a wife back in 'Legion'?”

  “No,” Michael said, his gaze returning to the flames as he poked the fire one last time. “Never got that serious with anyone yet. I guess I was always too busy moving. Maybe someday, even in a crazy world like this, I’ll find a mate.”

  “Maybe,” Eve replied with a big yawn as she stretched. “I'm getting tired, goodnight Michael I am off to bed.”

  “Good night, nice to meet you Eve.” Michael said.

  “You could join me and keep my bed warm if you'd like?” Eve said, walking towards her hut.

  “Yes mam.” Michael said following her.

  The next morning Eve had a vision of Scott in a mountain surrounded by flames fighting a demon. She woke up and looked around sweating and breathing heavily before she calmed down and noticed as she felt around the bed that Michael was gone.

  The morning air was crisp and carried the scent of pine and damp earth. Eve stepped out of her hut, the lingering heat of her nightmare still making her heart hammer against her ribs. The image of Scott—silhouetted against a wall of hellfire, locked in a desperate struggle with a demon—was burned into her mind.

  She took a deep breath, grounding herself in the reality of the village. She could feel the distinct mana signatures nearby: Michael’s steady, disciplined presence, Nile’s chaotic energy, and Parker’s calm, oscillating frequency as he levitated in deep meditation within his hut.

  “Good morning,” Eve said, forcing a smile as she approached the center of camp.

  Michael looked up from a complex-looking machine he was tinkering with on a workbench. “Morning,” he said, his voice warm but focused. He looked refreshed, a stark contrast to Eve’s shaken state.

  Nile, of course, was already in full "charmer" mode. He smoothed back his hair and offered a blinding grin. “Fine morning indeed, Eve, now that you are here!” He then leaned toward Michael, whispering just loud enough for everyone to hear, “I think she is finally into me.”

  “Morning, Nile,” Eve sighed, her smile turning a bit more weary.

  Michael didn't even look up from his work as he placed a sympathetic hand on Nile’s shoulder. “Nile, man... I don't think she’s into you, bud.”

  “That's okay!” Nile declared, his determination seemingly indestructible. “The path to true love is rarely a straight line. I will still win her heart over, mark my words!”

  Days later Parker sat levitating cross-legged before his bed, his focus unwavering until Eve barged into the hut.

  “I’ve located Scott,” she announced, breathless. “He’s near a mountain shrouded in smoke.”

  The group’s anxiety had been spiking; Scott had been gone for two weeks without a single ping or check-in. Parker didn't falter or lose his concentration at the news. Instead, his eyes snapped open, and his mana surged, pushing his levitation even higher.

  “Good,” Parker said, his voice echoing with a slight magical hum. “Let’s go get him.”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  He drifted down, his boots hitting the floorboards with a heavy thud, and marched outside. Near the center of the village, Michael and Nile were hunched over Nile's latest experimental contraption.

  “I’m not sure this is going to hold together, Nile,” Michael muttered in his trademark rasp.

  “It shall and it will!” Nile interjected, wiping grease onto his tunic. “Behold: the Mark II Red-Wing Gyrocopter!”

  Nile cranked the engine. It sputtered, coughed, and finally settled into a rhythmic, metallic thrum. He tweaked a few valves until the idle stabilized, then scrambled into the cockpit.

  “I have a bad feeling about this,” Eve shouted over the roar of the motor. “I have a lock on Scott’s coordinates!”

  “Good, we’ll use this beauty to get there in half the time. Listen to her—she’s purring like a kitty!” Nile cheered, pulling the stick back. The gyrocopter lurched into the sky, banking forward with surprising grace. “See? It works! It actually—”

  A thick, acrid plume of black smoke suddenly erupted from the engine casing. Nile was forty feet up and hitting thirty-five miles per hour when the "purr" turned into a mechanical death rattle. Within seconds, the smoke blinded him, forcing the Mark II into a screaming nose-dive right back into the center of Hutsville.

  Nile tumbled out of the cockpit, coughing through a cloud of acrid smoke. He hit the dirt on his back and rolled several feet before scrambling to his feet, swaying slightly as his equilibrium recalibrated.

  “Heh... heh. Well, back to the drawing board,” he croaked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Uh, Nile?” Parker said, his eyes widening with concern.

  Nile waved a dismissive hand. “I know, I know! I need to recalibrate the fuel-to-mana ratio and install a dedicated cooling system for the core. Maybe even swap out the power source for a High-Grade Mana Crystal.”

  “Nile,” Parker pointed, “your pants are on fire.”

  Nile blinked, looked down, and began frantically slapping his thighs. “Oh! Right. Thank you. Must have missed the localized heat DoT.”

  BOOM.

  The gyrocopter’s core reached critical mass and detonated. The shockwave launched Nile forward like a ragdoll, slamming him into Parker and sending both of them tumbling into the dirt.

  Nile sat up, his hair smoking as he adjusted his charred goggles. “Thank you again,” he squeaked nervously. “I definitely pushed the power input too far. Yep. Drawing board.”

  Michael paced around the flaming wreckage, his eyes glowing with a faint green light as he assessed their vitals. “Looks like your health took a bit of a dip. Do you two need a heal?”

  “Looks like it,” Parker laughed, wiping soot from his face.

  “Next time, test your deathtraps outside the city limits,” Eve commanded, her arms crossed.

  Nile scrambled up and gave a deep, soot-covered bow. “My deepest apologies, Eve.”

  “Just clear the wreckage and let’s move,” Eve said, her annoyance clearly showing. “I’ve locked onto Scott’s signal. We’re losing time.”

  “Yes, my dea—” Nile started, but Eve’s disappointed face cut him off before he could finish.

  “Ahem,” Parker cleared his throat, shooting Nile a warning look that could halt a charging Orc.

  “I mean—yes, Eve! Of course!” Nile corrected himself, laughing awkwardly as he began frantically shoveling charred scrap metal into his inventory.

  Once the wreckage was cleared and their gear equipped, the group gathered around Nile. He raised his hand, and the air began to ripple and fracture like breaking glass. With a surge of mana, a shimmering portal tore open, revealing a hazy glimpse of a jagged, smoke-clogged mountain range on the other side.

  One by one, they stepped through the threshold, leaving the safety of Hutsville behind to find their missing friend.

  Scott slumped against the tunnel wall, gasping as the reality of his injuries set in. His lower half was a ruin of blackened, brittle skin, the cracks weeping blood and fluid into the ash.

  he told himself, though his vision was starting to fray at the edges.

  He looked over at Ret. The android’s sleek, metallic black skin was dull, scorched by the volcanic heat to a matte charcoal finish. Ret was a mouthless masterpiece of engineering, designed to absorb sunlight like a living battery, but his systems were failing. His lower chassis had been slagged away, leaving a jagged void of burnt alloy. The glow in Ret’s eyes—the light that usually pulsed and shifted in time with his synthetic voice—was almost gone.

  Scott dragged himself onto his stomach, his mangled legs trailing behind him like dead weight. He reached Ret and used his remaining strength to pull the heavy android into his lap, forcing his own shattered legs into a cross-legged position. The pain of the movement was so sharp it nearly forced him into unconsciousness.

  “No... stay awake,” Scott groaned.

  He reached out, grasping for the raw, heat-soaked mana of the volcano. He forced [Beastmode]

  He saw it now: the Red Mana flowing like molten veins through the earth.

  “Take it,” Scott hissed. “Heal!

  He gripped the flow of volcanic energy and forced it into Ret’s chest plate. The overcharge was immediate. Ret’s metallic black skin began to shimmer as his internal batteries drank the raw power.

  Deep within the android's chest, a low, mechanical hum began to vibrate—the sound of a rebooting engine. Ret’s eyes suddenly flared with a bright, flickering light, pulsing in rhythm with a static-heavy sound coming from the speaker-grilles hidden beneath his jawline.

  “” Ret’s voice crackled out, the glow of his eyes intensifying with every syllable.

  As the volcanic mana surged, the slagged metal of Ret’s lower body began to glow white-hot. Molecular printers and nanites, fueled by the massive energy spike, began to spin new black-alloy bones and skin, rebuilding his legs in a storm of sparks and redirected mana.

  The flickering in Ret’s eyes smoothed out into a steady, intense burn. He bolted upright, his optical sensors flaring. “The white light... it’s everywhere. I can’t get out!”

  “Sorry, bub,” Scott croaked, his voice strained and thick with pain. “But we’re in a volcano, not the afterlife.”

  Ret paused, his head tilting with a mechanical whir as he recalibrated to his surroundings. “Oh. Sorry, partner. I just kept having this nightmare—a blinding white light hitting my processors over and over.”

  “That must suck,” Scott said, leaning back against the jagged stone. “Can you keep watch while I tend to these wounds? I’m about spent.”

  “Yeah, partner.” Ret stood up, his new alloy joints moving with fluid precision. He walked toward the mouth of the tunnel, his metallic black skin shimmering in the firelight. He looked back over his shoulder, his eyes pulsing. “What happened to you? You look... compromised.”

  “Heh. I pulled you out of the lava,” Scott laughed, the effort ending in a sharp wince.

  “I guess I owe you one,” Ret said. He stood silent for a moment, as if receiving a transmission. “Also, Nyxrah says thank you.”

  Scott’s bloodshot eyes widened slightly. “So it did work.”

  “Yes. She also said you humans are weak.” Ret’s eyes flashed with a hint of dry humor. “I am inclined to agree with her, partner.”

  “Look who’s talking,” Scott grunted, gesturing toward the android’s feet. “I literally just hijacked the mana flow of a volcano to rebuild your melted legs.”

  “You did?” Ret asked. He reached down and rapped his knuckles against his thigh. The sound of solid metal echoed in the tunnel. “Looks like they are in optimal working order. Good job, partner.”

  Scott shook his head, pushing through the haze of pain to grasp the ambient energy once more. He extended his arms, weaving his internal reserves into a shimmering barrier that sealed the tunnel off from the volcano’s interior.

  “What are you doing, Scott?” Ret asked, his glowing eyes scanning the translucent wall.

  “Creating a dam,” Scott whispered, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I’m using the shield to force the mana stream to pool up around me. If I can concentrate the density, I can replenish my reserves and start the healing process.”

  He pushed more of his own mana into the barrier, thickening the weave until it was strong enough to hold back the rushing current of volcanic energy. He could feel the pressure building—a heavy, vibrating weight against his palms.

  Scott mused, his muscles trembling. He looked at the swirling red mist trapped with him.

  Scott took a deep, lung-bursting breath. He felt the raw mana flood into his mouth, tasting like ozone and scorched earth. It burned down his throat, but as it hit his core, he felt a spark of mana return.

  He glanced at his stats:

  Health Points (HP): 100/3685

  Mana Points (MP): 150/3425

  Stamina: 2870/3863

  The numbers began to tick upward, but the pool inside his shield was draining fast. The "stream" outside was being blocked entirely by his barrier. Thinking fast, he willed a tiny aperture to open in the center of the shield. Immediately, a pressurized jet of Red Mana sprayed through, refilling the "dam."

  Scott thought, a grim smile tugging at his cracked lips.

  He closed his eyes, rhythmic breaths pulling in the crimson mana.

  Mana Points (MP):

  “It’s working,” Scott croaked, the glow returning to his skin as his MP climbed toward the four-digit mark.

  Distant skittering echoed through the stone corridor, the sounds growing louder and more rhythmic with every passing second.

  “Better move fast, partner,” Ret whispered, his glowing eyes fixed on the darkness. “We have company. Lots of it.”

  Moments later, a swarm of [Lava Huntsman Spiders]

  “Hurry up!” Ret shouted.

  Globules of molten silk flung through the air, splashing against Scott’s barrier. The mana shield hissed as the corrosive heat ate through the weave, causing the pressurized mana to leak back into the volcanic stream. Scott gritted his teeth, blocking out the chaos. He took one last, massive gulp of energy, hitting his target threshold, and triggered his conversion skill.

  [Skill Activated: Mana-to-Vitality Transference]

  He looked down at his legs and watched as the skin peeled away and new skin appeared underneath. With a swipe of his hand the skin underneath was clean and brand new. He quickly wiped the rest of his legs all the way down to his feet even wiggling his toes toe test them. "All brand new." Scott said. He stood up and let the barrier collapse. As the shield flickered out, the charred, brittle layers of his skin began to flake away like burnt parchment, revealing fresh, unscarred flesh underneath. The healing was total, but the cost was high—the volcanic heat had incinerated everything from his waist down.

  “Not good,” Scott muttered, looking down at his naked legs.

  “Yes, partner, this is not good!” Ret yelled, his four arms tracking different targets as the spiders began devouring their fallen comrades to buff their own stats. “They’re coming in waves!”

  “I wasn't talking about the spiders. My gear is gone,” Scott said, frantically digging into his spatial bag. He snatched a pair of dark, supple wraps. [Glove of the Assassin(Rare)] [Boots of the Speed Demon(Epic)].

  Scott looked back into the bag, his face falling. “Man... I don’t have any spare pants.”

  “Switch!” Ret shouted over the roar of gunfire. “Take the tunnel. I might have a spare pair of leggings in my inventory!”

  They traded positions in a blur of movement. Scott stepped forward, his twin short swords drawn and gleaming. It was a humiliating way to enter a life-or-death struggle—his lower half completely exposed to the singeing heat—but he had no choice. Two glowing globs of molten silk hissed through the air; one aimed for Ret’s head, the other low toward Scott’s midsection.

  Scott threw up a desperate, multi-layered mana barrier. The lava hit with a violent sizzle, the heat so intense it ate through his shields like acid through paper.

  [Skill Activated: Speed Form]

  The world slowed to a crawl. Scott’s perception shifted as the lava balls hung in the air like sluggish droplets. He twisted his body, dancing past the first projectile, then lunged toward Ret. He tackled the android, hauling him out of the line of fire just as the second glob splashed against the stone floor.

  The lava missed them both, but it landed directly on Ret’s discarded supply bag. The leather ignited instantly. Just before the pack dissolved into ash, Ret reached into the flames and yanked out a bundle of glowing, neon-bright fabric.

  [Pants of the Pixie Queen(Unique)]

  These pants create a distraction by releasing bright sparkles from the pants and once you decide to activate the second ability will blind your opponent. +100 to Stamina and increases your speed by 5%.

  “Hey, partner,” Ret grunted, trapped beneath Scott. “Get off me and put these on.”

  Scott stared at the hot-pink, glitter-dusted leggings in horror. “Uh... yeah, I think I’d rather stay naked,” he muttered, scrambling to his feet. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in those.”

  “Stop being a baby, human,” Ret said getting up on his knees and returned fire, his eyes flashing with genuine worry as the chittering of the spiders grew louder. “Put them on if you want to make it out of this volcano alive.”

  “Fine! Fine!” Scott snapped. He snatched the pants and yanked them on, the fabric clinging tightly to his skin. As soon as they were equipped, a cloud of pink sparkles began to swirl around his waist. “Happy now?”

  Ret stood up and gave Scott a quick, mechanical once-over. “See, partner? It fits your style perfectly.”

  “I don’t know what kind of scrap-heap you were built on, Ret, but this is definitely not my style,” Scott grumbled, the pink sparkles swirling around his legs with every step.

  He didn't have time for a second opinion. The chittering reached a fever pitch as the [Lava Huntsman Spiders]

  Scott lunged. Behind him, Ret stood his ground, his blasters barking. A single, perfectly aimed bolt caught the lead spider square between its multiple eyes, dropping it instantly.

  Using the momentum, Scott leaped into the air. He tucked his body and began to rotate, his twin short swords extending like the teeth of a high-speed boring machine.

  He became a blur of steel and pink glitter, carving a path through the first ten spiders as if they were made of wax. He tore down the tunnel, banked hard to the right, and shredded several more before bursting into a massive cavern filled with towering stone columns.

  He landed in a crouch, but the world didn't stop moving. His equilibrium hissed as his brain tried to compensate for the rapid rotation. He swayed, catching his breath, just as the sound of stampeding legs filled the chamber. At least thirty spiders emerged from the shadows, surrounding him in a predatory circle.

  Scott channeled his mana into the fabric. The [Pants of the Pixie Queen]

  A wild idea took hold.

  Scott vanished. He didn't just run; he became a streak of pink light, jumping from one glittering reflection to the next. To the spiders, he was a ghost. To Scott, the world was a series of static targets. He flickered behind a spider, decapitated it, and flashed to the next before the first body even hit the ground.

  He skidded to a halt as the light faded, his chest heaving.

  “Twenty-seven down,” Scott mused, counting the twitching carapaces. “Only a few left.”

  Three spiders stood in the center of the room, completely dazed and blinded by the pixie-light. Ret stepped into the cavern, his pistols humming as he methodically executed two of them. The final spider turned and scrambled down the far tunnel in a panic.

  “I’ll finish him, partner,” Ret said, his metallic legs clattering against the stone as he broke into a sprint.

  “Wait!” Scott held up a hand, his ears twitching. Thanks to his Beastmode

  “Ret is not weak anymore, partner,” the android called back, his pace never slackening as he vanished into the shadows of the tunnel. “Ret has a dragon living inside him.”

  His synthetic voice trailed off into the darkness, leaving Scott standing in a cavern littered with spider carcasses.

  “Eh, androids these days,” Scott mumbled, shaking his head as he checked the durability of his short swords. “Always running headfirst without a strategy. I guess having a mythical beast in your hard drive makes you cocky.”

  He didn't wait around for the sparkles on his pants to dim. He dug his [Boots of the Speed Demon]