Chapter Thirty-Six: The Cloudy Mountains

It smelled like ashes and smoke.

I was being carried; that much was obvious even before I opened my eyes. Sure enough, when I came to I found myself hugging the back of a particularly burly Prospitian soldier. He wore a brownish-tan trench coat, had twin belts of ammunition draped across his chest, and carried some sort of light machinegun that looked like something straight out of Band of Brothers. It even had a tripod and a perforated barrel jacket. Damn, this guy must be hella-strong, to be carrying me in addition to all that crap. Or maybe I just weighed nothing.

I looked up, trying to get my bearings. I was in the middle of a column of Prospitian soldiers, and we were making our way through a narrow valley, hemmed in on both sides by rock faces. Mountainsides, I realized, observing how the vegetation ceased to grow past a certain altitude. I tried to see the tops of the mountains, but they were obscured by the Skaian clouds.

The valley we were in was lush, full of pine trees and vegetation, with small critters skittering from bush to bush, from branch to branch. Ferns were abundant on the ground, and there were a few small creeks that trickled through the trees. The daylight was a bright afternoon amber—these guys must have been traveling all day long.

I then registered that all the soldiers were dressed in the same brownish overcoats as my bearer—they were the Browncoats. They were the soldiers who had organized the defense of the King's Airfield…which now no longer existed.

Oh, God… It all came rushing back. The Dersite bombing run, returning to the airfield with the Rangers, and Theo… Oh Jesus, Theo…

He had been placed in command of a tank unit before I departed with the Pale Marksman and her Rangers. When we returned to find the airfield nothing more than a smoldering crater, the first thing I'd done was to search for Theo's tank unit. I found it, too…and there was barely anything left of it. Blackened, charred wrecks, carbonized skeletons…nothing more.

Concerning god tier regeneration, it seemed that the length of time which it took for revival to occur depended on the severity of the wound. That's the only reason I could think of to explain why Theo took so long…

A bomb must have fallen directly on him, because I couldn't find any trace of him. I picked through all the husks of the tanks, searching frantically for my friend, in vain…and then the impossible happened. Millions and millions of ash particles started to glow with all the colors of the rainbow, along with scattered bits of bone fragments, scraps of skin, and…other things.

All of the glowing ash particles started to cascade towards a point that served as an epicenter of sorts. And when they started to build up in the center, the glowing ash particles bonded together to form leg bones, a pelvis…then a spine, with a ribcage sprouting into existence around it. And even as the ash was transmuting itself into a skull at the top of the spine, more of it began to flow up onto the leg bones, resolving itself into muscle tissue. I watched muscles regenerate, tendons suddenly connecting previously naked bones to the new muscles, ligaments now connecting bones to other bones, cartilage…then the circulatory system—veins, arteries, lymph vessels and nodes…and in the center of all that, a mass of glowing ash coalesced to form a heart, which promptly started to beat.

Though I couldn't see through the ashen skull, I knew that when it began to shine twice as bright, the omni-colored ash was reforming into a brain. And from the brain, more ash wrapped itself around every possible facet of the horrifyingly incomplete body, resolving into nerves. At the same time, more ash flowed through the spaces between the bones. I saw a stomach form, lungs…liver, intestines, kidneys…before long, it was like I was looking at one of those skeletons that you usually find in your health ed. teacher's room, with all the internal organs and such…

I had to struggle, I mean really struggle to keep myself from vomiting. It was almost like watching a scene from a movie where someone's body crumbles into dust…and then hitting rewind and watching it happen in reverse. And while it sounds cool…actually watching it? Seeing every gory detail of your best friend's vaporized corpse as it put itself back together? If you're able to watch that without feeling nauseated, then there's something really fuckin' wrong with you.

There wasn't very much of the glowing ash left, at this point. The remainder of it flowed onto the body, completely covering it in an opaque layer of light. Starting from the feet up, the rainbow light started to fade. I averted my eyes before I saw too much. But after giving it a few seconds, once the light completely went out, I looked back…and Theo was hovering in the air, fully clothed in his Thane's garb. Not a scratch on him.

I stared at him. He held up a hand and gave a weak wave. "Hey," he said to me.

That did it. I fell to my knees and hurled everything that had been in my stomach out onto the ground.

Then I passed out.

And…well, the rest is history. Couldn't go back to sleep, so I decided to be a raging dumb fuck and stroll dick-first into a fucking den of angry giant grizzly bears. Of course, it could be argued that my stupidity was the reason we were able to escape that cave in the first place. Bears make a great way to keep underlings occupied.

I must have made some small noise or movement, because the soldier carrying me gave a quiet grunt. "Hey, Three-Shot! Notify the Captain that the Knight is awake!"

"On it." A shorter Prospitian who wore a radio on his back quickly complied with the burly soldier's order.

It occurred to me that this was probably the first time I've ever heard a common Prospitian refer to another by name…and yet, they still used titles, or nicknames. I wondered if they had names at all.

The burly Prospitian held his machinegun in one hand. With his other, he reached back and gripped me by the collar of my golden-yellow Prospit pajamas, gently lowering me back to the ground. "Good to have you back," he rumbled, grabbing his weapon with both hands once more. "Though you'll probably wish you hadn't woken up."

"Yeah, I've been getting that vibe a lot, lately…" I massaged my shoulders, which were slightly sore from having been carried for who knew how long. I then gestured over to the radioman. "Why do you call him Three-Shot?"

The burly soldier gave a hearty chuckle. "During the Cloudy Mountains Campaign that happened in this very valley, and others like it, two centuries ago, Three-Shot once managed to kill three Dersites with one shot."

I looked at the radioman with a new respect. "What the hell's he doing with a radio, then, if he can shoot like that?"

That got another laugh. "If you've ever seen Three-Shot try to hit a moving target, you would understand how laughable the idea of him killing three Dersite commandos with one shot is. It happened by accident."

I figured, while I was already having a conversation with a normal Prospitian—which rarely ever happened—I might as well ask him the question that had just popped into my mind. "So, uh… Do you guys actually have names? I mean, I only hear you guys call each other titles or nicknames, and I was just curious."

The burly Prospitian fixed me with a glance, as if he were surprised I would take an interest in such a random subject. "We have no names. We are gestated and grown in laboratories. The closest thing I have to a birth name is V9C64001—my identification number." The Prospitian bared one of his forearms and showed it to me. Imprinted on his white carapace-like flesh was something resembling a barcode. "Some of us achieve fame in one way or another, and they receive a title. As for the rest of us…all we have left to be known by are our deeds."

"Like killing three enemies with a single shot," I murmured. I glanced back up at the burly Prospitian. "And what are you known for?"

A third laugh. "They call me Firehands," the burly soldier chuckled. His black eyes seemed to glint as he relived the memory of how he got that name. "Maybe if I see you again, I'll tell you that story."

Theo chose that moment to make his grand entrance, before I could pester Firehands any further. He swooped in from above, riding a gust of wind, setting himself down right in front of me. Before I could say anything, he simply grabbed me and yanked me into yet another one of his bone-crushing bear hugs.

"You're fuckin' one of a kind, man," Theo laughed as he released me. "Best friend miraculously comes back to life, and what do you do? You vomit all over the place and pass out like we're at one of Gino's old house parties!"

"Hey, you can shut the fuck up," I shot back. "You didn't have to watch your body get reassembled piece by fucking piece. I did. It'll probably give me nightmares. Thanks."

Theo gave a shrug. "You can't have nightmares, bro! You go to sleep, you wake up as your dream self. No nightmares here!"

"Dunno, a lot of nightmarish things have happened while I dream; it could be argued that this whole ordeal is a nightmare," I pointed out.

That earned a frown from Theo. "You're saying getting blazed with Cruz and floating around Prospit like Mary Poppins and company over the rooftops of London was a nightmare?"

"Well, I didn't say the whole thing was a nightmare."

Theo stared at me for five solid seconds without saying a word. He then lightly slapped me up the left side of my head. "Well, I'm still alive and kicking regardless. Stop bein' a downer! C'mon, let's get up to the front of the column. The Rangers will be reporting back soon. Thanks, Firehands." My friend nodded to the burly Prospitian.

And with that, we were flying through the air, soaring above the marching Prospitian soldiers towards the head of the column.

"Okay, seriously, why is his name Firehands?" I asked Theo.

"That, I'm afraid, is something he'll have to tell you himself. Maybe when we set up camp tonight." And that was all Theo had to say on the matter.

I was expecting to find the marshal of the Browncoats at the head of the column, or some other high-ranking officer, but there was no one there who fit that description. Just a grizzled, one-armed Prospitian and a familiar female soldier dressed entirely in black. The Pale Marksman was back in business.

"I have been waiting for two minutes." The Pale Marksman sounded none too pleased.

"Calm your tits, I had to go get my friend," Theo shot back.

That was when the Pale Marksman decided to acknowledge my presence. She nodded to me. "Good to see you again, Knight."

I returned the nod. "Yeah, you too."

Theo gave me a brief glance, but he quickly regained his composure and turned back to the Pale Marksman. "Have your Rangers reported back yet?"

The Pale Marksman nodded again. "They have. There is a Dersite outpost on the mountainside about two miles ahead. We have escaped detection thus far, but if that outpost spots us… They will radio in our position, and the Dersite Air Force will blow us all away."

"Need to take those Dersites out, then, a," the one-armed Prospitian interjected. He looked over to the Marksman. "Unless it is already done?"

The Pale Marksman shook her head. "My men are in position, but we are unable to approach the outpost without being sighted."

"I thought Rangers specialized in stealth," the one-armed Prospitian quipped.

That earned a withering glare from the Marksman. "Stealth takes time, and time is one thing we don't have."

"What do you need?" Theo got right to the point.

"A Hero," the Pale Marksman replied. "I have a plan. It is quite crude and simple…but it should be no less effective for it. And it needs a Hero."

"Lead the way." Theo started to walk to the Marksman before I could even make a move, to my disappointment. The female Ranger was about as badass as they came, and I kind of wanted to be the one to join her. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy.

Maybe the Powers that Be heard my thoughts just then, for the Sergeant Major stepped forward and grasped Theo by the arm. "You aren't going anywhere, Thane," he grunted. "You have assumed responsibility for the survivors of this division. You need to remain with the column."

Seeing the opportunity presented to me, I quickly seized it. "I'll go," I spoke up, stepping forward.

"Just as well, I'd rather have the Knight," the Pale Marksman agreed. "He has worked under me already."

Theo muttered something under his breath, but he gave no argument. "Fine, I'll stay…" When he looked at me, though, there wasn't a trace of envy in his eyes. That's Theo for you, suffering from a chronic case of being a better person than me—I've said it before, and I'll say it again. He held out a fist. "Give 'em hell, bro."

I pounded his fist. "I'll be back in a minute."

The Pale Marksman and I set off at a sprint ahead of the advancing Prospitian column. I did not fly while I was running alongside the Marksman—one, because she could not fly, and secondly because I had to follow her to find the other Rangers. They were quite elusive, and I'd never find them on my own.

"How many survived the Airfield?" I asked the Marksman as we made our way across a creek, splashing through the shallow water, hopping from stone to stone.

The female Ranger grimaced. "Most of the Air Force was wiped out before the evacuation could commence. All of the wounded…most of our supplies, our artillery and anti-aircraft equipment… The Browncoats were barely able to disengage without getting shredded. The other two divisions were almost completely wiped out—the Browncoats absorbed the survivors. I'd estimate we number roughly five thousand."

"So where does that leave us?"

"We are retreating through the Cloudy Mountains," the Marksman replied. "The Dersites are hemming us in, and without the Air Force to keep their behemoths at bay…"

"I get it," I interrupted. "Doesn't pay to think too far ahead, right now. That's the White King's job, not yours."

"I suppose…" The Pale Marksman took in a deep breath, holding it for a second before exhaling. "It's times like these when I sometimes find myself missing my old job in the postal service."

I wondered if the female Ranger had just said something she really hadn't meant to. Or maybe she had no problem with speaking to me because she knew that most of her brethren would never talk to a Hero, let alone ask them about her inner thoughts. And, to be perfectly honest, I would never tell anyone, either. The female Ranger would probably pull me inside out if I ever did.

We never actually rendezvoused with the other Rangers, like I was expecting. As we ran towards our destination, we eventually reached a meadow of tall grass. The point was that there weren't many trees in the meadow, so I was able to see the mountainside up ahead. Above the treeline, the mountainside grew very steep, almost sheer. But at one point, there was a ledge not far over the treeline, and rising from that ledge was a medium-sized gray tower, connected to a smaller building.

As we started to hike up the bottom of the mountainside, approaching the Dersite outpost, the Pale Marksman handed me her rifle so I could use the scope, and she directed my view to the top of the Dersite tower. I could see some sort of tall metallic rod extending up into the air.

"That is the auxiliary communications system," the Marksman explained. "It runs on its own power, separate from the main communications system. Cutting power to the outpost would only result in the auxiliary communications system automatically signaling the nearest Dersite fort. The Dersites in that outpost could still report what is happening to their superiors, and even if they aren't able to… The enemy would still connect the dots, and we would soon find ourselves at the mercy of the Dersite Air Force with no way to shoot back. So we have to take the two communication systems out at the same time."

"You want me to fly you up there?" It was the only logical conclusion I could come to. It was a job Theo could have easily done as well, but it made sense for the Pale Marksman to want me for the job. After all, she'd already seen me fly when I lazed that Dersite radar jamming station. And dream flight, I suppose, was much stealthier than riding in on gale force winds.

The Pale Marksman nodded in the affirmative, taking back her rifle and slinging it across her back.

"Question," I held up a finger as we continued to trek upward. "How have you guys managed to deal with situations like these when Heroes weren't around?"

"Easily." The Pale Marksman met my gaze, daring me to argue. "As I said to the Sergeant Major; with three hours, we could have that outpost neutralized. The other option would be waiting until nightfall, but we cannot afford to stop the column for that long—too much distance would be lost. But now we have you."

We made our way up the bottom of the mountainside as far as we could, until it started getting really steep. We could have gone much further, but we were a bit cramped for time. After another few minutes, the Pale Marksman held up a fist—I was never in the military, but I've seen my fair share of war movies to recognize it as the signal to stop.

She took out her small handheld radio device and held it up to her mouth, speaking softly into it. I couldn't hear exactly what she was saying, but it was obvious that she was asking her Rangers if they were in position. A second ticked by, and the person at the other end of the channel gave an equally hushed reply.

Satisfied, the Pale Marksman pocketed her radio and gave me a nod. "Okay, Knight, time for you to play your part. Are you ready?"

Well, I knew that was a one-answer question. Not being ready wasn't an option. "Yep, hop on."

I had the Pale Marksman climb onto my back piggyback-style. Then I launched ourselves into the air. I flew as fast as I could, quickly leaving the trees far below us, ascending the mountainside. The trees zipped past, and within a couple seconds the blanket of green fell away to bare rock. I hugged the cliff face, sending us up past the Dersite outpost, up and over. Then down onto the top of the tower.

There was a strong wind up here, but not unreasonably so. Fortunately, there weren't any Dersites outside—I'd have had to alter my flight if there had been any sentries. They must all have been either manning the control room, or sleeping. That made life easier.

The roof of the tower was bare, save for the communication rod and a sealed hatch. That certainly cut down on distractions.

The Pale Marksman removed a medium-sized ball of what looked like Play-Doh. She rolled it around in her palms and crouched down, laying it in front of the auxiliary communication rod. She then stretched it out and molded it around the base of the rod. When she was finished with that, she removed a tiny metal device and pressed a small button on the bottom of it. A red light winked on.

When she pressed it a second time, the red light turned green. The Pale Marksman pushed the metal device into the Play-Doh material. She then backed up to a safe distance, gesturing for me to do the same, producing another small metallic device from her belt—though this one was cylindrical, with a black button on top.

The Marksman raised her radio to her lips once more. "Auxiliary communication system is rigged to blow. Move in on my mark." The female Ranger took another deep breath and silently counted to five. After that, she said, "Mark," into the radio and pressed the black button. Immediately, the explosive material laid around the base of the communication rod fulfilled its purpose in life and ignited, blowing a sizable hole in the ceiling of the tower and disintegrating the bottom of the rod, sending the rest of it crashing down.

At the same time, I heard another explosion down on the ground, followed by shouting and heavy footfalls. When I looked down, I saw Rangers climbing up and over the lip of the ledge, joining the single Ranger who had just blown open the front doors to the outpost. They entered through that newly-opened door and proceeded to storm the living quarters.

The Pale Marksman didn't waste any time lollygagging. She drew her pistol—a smaller weapon with a barrel extension that functioned as a silencer—and sprinted forward, jumping straight down through the hole in the ceiling, dropping down to the floor below. I followed her, just in time to watch her shoot a Dersite soldier attempting to climb the roof-access ladder.

The top level was most empty, save for a few dusty old crates of ration supplies. The middle level, however, contained several tables full of monitoring equipment, as well as about a dozen personnel. The equipment was dark and unresponsive, however—the Rangers must have been able to cut the power. The Dersites were banging the equipment, trying to get it to work again, when we made our entrance.

"Stay behind me," the Pale Marksman ordered me. "No fire. I know you have trouble controlling it, and I won't have you accidentally burning half my men alive."

I opened my mouth to argue, but promptly closed it. She was right, after all. I'd gotten much better at controlling fire, but my dream self on the other hand… When I was my dream self, fire came almost as naturally to me as breathing, and it was too easy for me to lose control and end up burning down a building. That worked out for me before when I was surrounded by Dersite commandos, but here…in an enclosed room with enemies and friends… Fire is no bueno.

And besides, I've never actually seen the Pale Marksman in action. I was curious.

The Marksman made her way down the stairs, me hot on her heels. One of the nearest Dersites noticed her coming and reached for the weapon hanging from his hip, but the Marksman swiveled her aim and fired once. Her pistol coughed quietly, and a bolt of subdued white energy tore a hole through the enemy carapacian's forehead.

The Marksman adjusted her aim and fired twice more, taking down the nearest Dersite, as well as the next one to go for his weapon. She did all this while moving down the stairs. By the time we reached the bottom of the stairs, the rest of the Dersites—ten strong—recovered from their surprise and started opening fire, peppering our side of the tower with energyfire.

I slid into cover behind one of the ops tables along with the Marksman, fighting the urge to set this entire tower on fire. If I'd been alone, I could've done it. The Marksman reached into her belt and pulled out a small, circular mirror mounted on a short metal rod—it was like one of those mirrors soldiers would use to spot snipers without actually sticking their heads out. I couldn't see what the female Ranger was looking at, but that really didn't matter.

The Marksman withdrew the mirror, and held her breath, counting to some unknown number. She then broke cover for a brief instant, squeezing off three quick, deliberate shots before ducking once again. A hail of gunfire answered her little counterattack…but I noticed that it was much weaker than before. The Marksman had probably gotten a Dersite with each individual shot.

Fortunately, before the Dersites could rush us, there was another explosion on the other side of the room. I looked up over the table in time to see the doors fly open. Shadowy figures dressed in black and gray poured in, storming the ops room. Rifles opened fire, firing in quick, controlled bursts. Within two or three seconds, the room fell silent once more. Thirteen Dersite personnel lay dead on the floor, and I hadn't done a thing.

"Room clear!" one of the Rangers called out.

"Outpost is clear," the Marksman confirmed, holstering her pistol. "Nice work, gentlemen."

We were back with the column within half an hour. We didn't blow the outpost up or anything—that would have resulted in a pillar of smoke rising into the air like a fucking signal fire saying 'Here we are! Come bomb us!' So when the column reached the place where the outpost had been, all that was visible was a slightly damaged tower that looked as if it had been abandoned for the past decade. I reunited with Theo and we spent most of the time trading stories.

It was not until some time after the daylight faded that the Browncoats decided to stop in a thick section of woods to make camp. Fires could be made at certain points where the tree cover was sufficient, and those soldiers who did not immediately go to sleep congregated at those fires. I was getting a bit tired myself, but Theo insisted I join him at one of the fires before I returned to my waking self.

"Brought a little somethin' somethin'," Theo retrieved his wallet sylladex and pulled out another captchalogue card. He released the item stored on the card…allowing a giant bag of jumbo marshmallows to thud down to the ground at his feet. He picked them up, jiggling the bag enticingly. "When's the last time you had a nice marshmallow roast?"

"Forever ago!"

We made our way over to the nearest campfire. I recognized Three-Shot and Firehands from earlier, but that was everyone I knew. Theo and I didn't really speak to anyone when we got to the fire—the Prospitians just made room for us and eyed us tentatively. Their curiosity was piqued, however, when we used sticks to spear our marshmallows and held them over the fire.

"What exactly is it that you are doing?" Firehands was the one to break the silence. The other soldiers leaned in to listen eagerly, as if our marshmallows were the most fascinating thing they've seen all year.

"We're roasting marshmallows, dude," Theo replied. He turned his marshmallow over, exposing a perfectly golden-brown side, getting to work on the rest of it.

"What is a…a marshmallow?" Firehands seemed to struggle with the new word.

"It's a…a…" Theo frowned as he tried to find the words, making weird shapes with his hands, trying to accurately convey what a marshmallow was. Trying and failing. Finally, Theo gave up and handed his stick over to Firehands. "Here, just eat it. Trust me."

Firehands promptly plucked the roasted marshmallow from the stick and plopped it into his mouth, chewing for a few seconds before gulping it down. If we hadn't been sitting next to a fire, we probably could have seen his eyes light up like hundred-watt light bulbs. He, too, found that he was unable to describe what roasted marshmallows were like, so he instead told the rest of the gathered soldiers to find sticks and roast their own.

Within two minutes, the bag of marshmallows was empty, and all the Prospitian soldiers at the campfire were pulling their marshmallows out of the flames. One of them accidentally burned his, but found that it tasted ten times better. The soldiers who hadn't already eaten theirs went ahead and incinerated their marshmallows…and they all agreed.

It would have been one of the most awesome things I've seen in this game session so far—a bunch of carapacians enjoying roasted marshmallows—if they hadn't preferred them to be burned. No self-respecting person should prefer their roasted marshmallows to be burned. It's all good, though, we can't all be perfect, and the carapacians are obviously no exception!

The soldiers stayed up for a little while, trading stories with each other, complaining about the lack of adequate food rations, ripping on superior officers… It all seemed a little forced, if you asked me. They just survived the destruction of the King's Airfield. With the Air Force nothing more than a memory, the Dersites had the advantage on the battlefield, now…and they all knew that. I guess it's just something they really didn't want to think about, right now. Take it one day at a time.

I could definitely relate to that.

But gradually, one by one or two by two, the soldiers rose from the fire and went their separate ways, turning in for the night. After all, they had more marching tomorrow, and they would need the rest. Before long, I was alone at the campfire with Theo—though the fire was more embers at this point than actual flames.

I noticed how he didn't seem even the least bit tired, despite all the walking he'd been doing today. "How the hell are you not dead on your feet, bro?" I asked him. I know I'd probably be dead on my feet after a day like today, had I not spent most of it asleep on Firehands's back.

"I don't need to sleep, anymore." Theo shrugged. When he saw the look I gave him, he went on. "No, I'm serious. Like, I don't physically need to sleep anymore. I don't get hungry or thirsty, either. It's like my body just lives off nothing but air."

"Part of being a Thane of Breath, I guess?" I surmised. "Have you really been eating, lately?" When Theo shook his head, another thought occurred to me. "Maybe that's why you've gotten so jacked, lately. Breath is what nourishes your body, and coupled with all the exercise you mentioned doing to keep up with your consorts…"

"If only I could just turn into air," Theo chuckled. "Now that would be quite a party trick."

We settled into another silence, neither one of us really sure what we should be talking about. I was content to watch the flames die down and join the rest of the embers. Sure, sometimes I can get a little long-winded, but I'm generally a person of few words. Theo, on the other hand…not so much. So I wasn't surprised when he was the one to break the silence, five or six minutes later.

"I've forgotten most of them, you know."

I looked up from the embers. "Who?"

"Everyone else." Theo's expression didn't change. He was just staring into the embers. It kind of unnerved me a bit—he was usually always so energized and upbeat…seeing him grow somber felt wrong on so many levels. "I used to know the names of everyone in our grade. Didn't know 'em all personally, obviously, but… I knew who they were. Now, everything that's happened… I only remember a bare handful. I can't even remember who my neighbors were. How much will I have forgotten in another month? In a year?" He looked up at me. "What about you? Have you forgotten a lot?"

I took a few moments to think, looking back into the embers. "I remember my neighbors. Lou and Donna… Lou had a license to use fireworks, and he'd always set them off on the Fourth of July, and sometimes Veteran's Day…and also that one time back in '06 when Italy won the World Cup—he set off fireworks, then jogged all over the surrounding area waving this giant Italian flag…" I swallowed a laugh and shrugged, not really knowing where I was going with this anecdote. "You're not a robot, Theo. Why would you still remember the names of all those people we never really knew when you've been up to your ass in Dersites and underlings for the past month?"

That earned a low grunt from Theo. "Yeah, yeah… Dersites and underlings, yeah… You want to know what I think?"

To be honest, I really didn't. I knew it was something that was gonna make me slightly depressed…but Theo wasn't going to be stopped, now. "What?" I asked.

"We end up in this whacked-out world. We don't really have time to question it. So we make some crazy-ass weapons, we have fun kickin' some underling ass, we do weird shit with talking consort animals and unlock superpowers we never knew we had, we fight in a war between two different races of people that look like living chess pieces… We play this bullshit game with every ounce of soul and devotion we can muster because, in the end, we're an extinct fucking race and no one wants to think about that. Not me, not you, not the others. So we distract ourselves with all…" Theo gestured all around us, "all this. What the hell are we doing here?"

Well, I guess he nailed it pretty well on the head, there. Still…those were the exact kinds of thoughts that I didn't want to be thinking right now. Save that for when after everything has settled down, not when we need to be focusing… I decided to try and change tack.

"Yeah, I hear you dude." I nodded slowly in agreement. "But there's no point in thinking about that until we can find some answers. We should talk to Gwen, sometime… Look, is something wrong? This isn't like you."

Theo was silent for a minute or so, but then he released his breath and told me what was on his mind. "Gino's disappeared."

Gino. I hadn't seen or heard from him since that one night when he'd mind-jacked my dream self, steered me out into space, and forced me to generate an ion cloud over Theo's planet. He'd told me I'd helped save Theo's life. And that was the last time I'd spoken to him.

"What do you mean he's disappeared?" I frowned.

"I mean he disappeared," Theo repeated himself. "Gwen told me in my most recent dream. He was helping the rebellion on Derse, something went wrong, and now Gino is MIA."

"What, that he's dead?"

"Or worse," Theo murmured. "He was starting to act weird before I ended up on the Battlefield. Erratic, bad-tempered…"

"Sounds like regular Gino Caiazzo to me," I remarked.

"Forget it. You don't care, you already hate him."

"I don't hate him," I protested, albeit somewhat halfheartedly. I stifled a yawn. "I strongly dislike him. Very strongly. Like titanium. But if there's any one of us who can take care of themselves, it's Gino. He's from New York City. He'll be fine."

Theo didn't look convinced. "You didn't see him on Derse. I did. I'm telling you, there's something weird with him."

We didn't stay up very much longer after that. About ten minutes later, the embers started to fade. When I found I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore, I rose to my feet and trudged over to a nearby tree. Theo stamped out the embers with his boots and wished me goodnight before stalking off into the woods.

I wish our conversation hadn't ended on that note…but what can you do? It actually did kind of bother me what Theo was saying about Gino. But what could I really do about it? I'm a Prospit dreamer. I have no idea what's been happening on Derse, lately. And I had my own shit to deal with.

As I drifted off into sleep, my thoughts turned towards the Northern Fires.

Two tribes down, one to go.