Gnorc Gnexus.

Polluted, bleak, unwelcoming, downright foul.

Didn't help that this place had already been long abandoned by the dragons ages before Gnasty and his followers made it their home either, a fact that only added to the foreboding atmosphere. Unless you were a Gnorc yourself or had a seriously valid reason, no one in their right mind would dare linger around in this literal trash heap of a realm, let alone visit it.

Turns out someone today had a seriously valid reason.

"We're lucky they gave us the okay to come here," a composed and somewhat deep female voice with a British-like accent commented, "even if only for a short time. This isn't dragon territory anymore after all."

"When was it eva'?" lazily asked a higher-pitched female voice tinged with a faint Brooklyn-esque accent. "Not even you guys used this place much back then, right?"

A beat of silence passed save for the shifting waves until a deeper and gentler voice spoke up, this one male. "That's what we get for not taking care of this place…but at least the worlds here won't go to waste."

Even if the Gnorcs' lifestyle left much to be desired.

The male continued, solemn and apologetic yet with a wistful undercurrent. "I just wanted to see this place for myself. At least once."

He took in the rusting metal of looming dragon heads and creaking wood of old docks and felt the millennia of neglect engraved here. At last, he turned to his companions with a smile of gratitude. "Thanks for coming with me, you guys. I know being here's a big risk, but I appreciate you braving it for my sake."

British Voice returned the smile in full. "Of course, we would, Nico. We understand the significance this place holds for your people. We just didn't want anything happening to you."

Brooklyn Gal snickered. "You ain't exactly a stud muffin, after all."

Nico mumbled to himself in embarrassment at the jab. He could be tough when he wanted to be!

"Which he compensates for with his tools and intellect," British Voice gently admonished as she patted Nico's shoulder, "or may I recount to you, the innumerable times they've helped us – i.e. you – out of a bind?"

Touché. Brooklyn Gal mumbled in embarrassment with crossed arms and a pout.

"Anyway," British Voice firmly continued, "we'd better get going. It's clear by now he isn't coming."

Before the other two dragons could voice agreement, a shadow passed over them...

XXX

A few hours later…

"There's no way that's what happened, Spyro."

"Oh yeah? How would you know?" a young purple dragon returned in a smarmy tone as he and his friend Elora walked down one of the cobbled pathways that snaked through the emerald-grass fields of the Artisan Homeworld. A tiny gold-glowing dragonfly named Sparx flittered in between them.

The red-furred faun rolled her eyes. "Because I was an eyewitness to most of it? Also, I don't think the monks appreciated that stunt your friends pulled."

Spyro blanched in record time. "Oh…heh. I guess you noticed that, huh?"

"With how little I could hear the Professor over the bloodcurdling screams echoing all over the mountains?" Elora arched a brow in dry amusement. "Yeah, kinda hard not to."

Sparx shot the drake a look full of 'I told ya so'.

Spyro rubbed one foreleg up against the other sheepishly as flashbacks of Bubba and Trondo's 'escapades' on the hockey rink in Colossus made him click his tongue in hesitation. "Yeah, Delbin and I told them to take it calm and easy with the hockey." He looked to the faun with an awkward grin. "They're not so good at calm and easy."

To say the least, Elora thought as she and Sparx shared a wince in empathy. Admirable as Spyro's attempts to keep the two macho dragons leashed had been, she felt the results were inevitable based on what little she heard about them. If anything, the incident just proved why the monks there shouldn't associate hockey with peace.

"I just hope you guys didn't get in too much trouble."

"Nah," Spyro gave an easy shrug, "Me and Delbin got off easy after I talked everyone down. Plus, Bubba and Trondo are banned from Colossus until 'further notice', which I'm pretty sure translates to 'until the end of time'" – Sparx bobbed his body up and down in a nod of agreement – "so it's safe to say we won't have to worry about an encore performance. 'Sides, I'm more worried on how Nestor's gonna take this."

Hence why Delbin offered to go on ahead and tell the Artisan leader himself. Soften him up, so to speak.

Just then, something out of Elora's peripherals caused her to stop. "Something tells me he's not so worried about that anymore."

The faun pointed a finger to two elder dragons up ahead – Nestor and Delbin – locked in what seemed to be an intense conversation with a much shorter figure decked in aviator gear. Upon closer inspection, Spyro recognized the figure as the balloonist from Gnasty's World and who, judging by his wild hand gestures, seemed awfully worked up about something.

Curiosity gave way to concern when Delbin turned his head to reveal a worried frown.

Spyro shared a look with Elora and Sparx before nearing the adults with his trademark smile. "Hey guys! Everything cool here?"

Delbin turned at the voice and returned the grin (albeit halfheartedly). "Ah, Spyro! Everything is fine, it's just," the autumn painter hesitated for a moment until a confirming nod from Nestor settled his decision, "there's…someone exploring Gnorc Gnexus. Another dragon."

Hearing such news about the abandoned junkyard made the young dragon's head reel back in surprise. "Like on purpose?! Why?"

Nestor faced Spyro with an expression full of resignation - and perhaps a bit of hope? "We're not entirely sure ourselves. However, that's not our main concern for now." He gestured a hand to the balloonist. "Hak says he saw this one carrying around technology."

Spyro shared another look with his two companions, this one confused. He slowly asked, "And that's weird how?"

Sure, almost all the Dragon Realms leaned far towards more traditional items (medieval weapons and wands to name a few), but the Beast Makers had their electrical devices here and there. A dragon with something similar shouldn't be that off.

Hak fervently shook his head as though reading the young one's thoughts. "It wasn't just some little trinket like you'd see in Beast Makers, Spyro! This kid had screens of light popping up all around him," he held his hands up and wiggled his fingers in an excited fashion, "and with a wave of his fingers, too!"

Spyro and Elora balked at the descriptions!

"Screens of light?" the small drake gawked in wonder. "Like holograms?" He'd heard of and even been to worlds with stuff like that, but never in the Dragon Realms themselves. What kind of dragon did this guy see? Better yet, that raised another question. "Hang on, what were you even doing at Gnexus?"

Dragons weren't the only ones who avoided that place, after all. Sure enough, Hak stammered for a moment, taken by surprise. "T-Trust me, Spyro, if not for that old mole guy that kept badgering me to take 'im there, I wouldn't've gone within a mile of that place. Paid me pretty darn well, too."

Old mole guy? Spyro mused in suspicion, that can't be who I think it is…right?

Thinking along similar lines, Elora abruptly raised her hands. "Back up! Did this person you took to Gnorc Gnexus wear glasses and a white lab coat by any chance?"

"Yeah!" Hak chirped with a snap of his gloved fingers, "A friend of yours?"

Both Spyro and Sparx's jaws dropped in disbelief while Elora gasped with a hand to her mouth! The Professor had a part in this mystery too?! What the heck was going on here?

Nestor took the reins of the conversation. "You referred to this dragon as a 'kid'. Were they around Spyro's age?"

Hak registered the question and rubbed his nape thoughtfully. "I'd say he looked like a definite adult – older than Spyro for sure but nowhere near as old as you and Delbin here."

"He wasn't alone, right?" Delbin asked in a concerned tone edging towards outrage because the painter swore that if this Balloonist left that kid to fend for himself in such a place—

Hak held his hands up in frightful haste. "Whoa, easy! Harm's the last thing that'll come to 'im with those two lady dragons around, especially the pretty orange one that kept givin' me the stink eye. Probably shoulda' mentioned that first…"

Elora's eyes went wide. "Lady dragons? Your species does have females out there then!" she exclaimed in an 'aha' tone before she turned to Spyro, hands akimbo. "How come I haven't seen any around?"

Spyro pursed his lips with an awkward 'um'. "I think it had something to do with the Sorceress sending us away long ago," he looked to the red and green elders for confirmation, "right?"

Nestor nodded. "When she spirited us from the Forgotten Worlds years ago, she'd only done so to any dragons identifying as male at that time while the rest wound up stranded onto her side of the world." He shook his head ruefully. "They went missing for so long, we'd assumed the Sorceress got to them."

Elora cocked her head, curious. What did he mean by 'identifying' and 'at that time'?

"Until we got word a few weeks before Gnasty Gnorc made lawn sculptures out of us!" Delbin added in an excited tone. "A few of 'em even settled back in after Spyro got back from torchin' that troublemaking Ripto."

Hmm, makes enough sense, Elora mused as she put a hand to her chin.

The faun couldn't confirm Delbin's words in full since she hadn't been to the other Dragon Homeworlds yet. Cleaning up Avalar after Ripto's defeat had been no small task and so left her no opportunity to visit Spyro until the near end of the purple dragon's third adventure. Didn't help either that Hunter snuck off to help with the Year of the Dragon festival once the Professor fixed the portal to Dragon Shores.

Elora turned to Hak. "So, what kind of dragons did these women look like?"

"Definitely Artisan, one of 'em," the balloonist responded with a shrug, "The other looked Peacekeeper, not to mention ready to bomb my balloon outta boredom!" The man shivered at the memory.

Spyro held back a snicker at the latter description. This lady sure sounded like a bomb-wielding Peace Keeper he'd met himself. Relation perhaps?

Nestor kept a straight face in contrast. "As for the young man with them, what faction would you say he seemed to belong to?"

For a long moment Hak went silent as he crossed his arms and cast his face downward with closed eyes. At last he spoke. "Unless he's some real tech-savvy Artisan, I can only assume the kid's one of those Ecologists from long ago, but I'd thought they all gone extinct at some point."

Spyro furrowed his brow. Ecologists: had he heard that term before? And if so where?

Nestor bit back a scoff. "No. They still very much thrive. I should know since Stone Hill has one leading it as we speak. In a sense," that last part he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth. Ignoring Hak's squawk of surprise and the hushed conversation between Spyro and his friends, he turned towards the portal in question and walked towards it.

"In fact, I'm quite certain he'd very much like to hear this."

XXX

"Yeah, not hearing it."

Of course not. Nestor held back a sigh as he stood within Lindar's clock shop, the clock-clad maya-blue dragon standing with his back to him, hands tinkering within the face of a grandfather clock.

Steadying his patience, the green carpenter softened his tone. "Lindar – "

"—gives no cares whatsoever," the horologist finished in a flippant, disinterested tone as he continued his work.

"Aren't you the least bit curious about them?"

"Nope."

"Not even enough to meet some of them, get to know any of them?"

"Nope."

This time Nestor sighed at last. He figured the Stone Hill leader would prove this stubborn. The green dragon set his jaw, thinking of another angle. "It'd be a perfect opportunity to – "

"See all the wonderful and breathtaking inventions they've cooked up in their big nerdy heads and revel in their supreme braininess," Lindar sassed back. Not quite how Nestor would have phrased it but okay. "Yeah, hard pass."

A puff of frustrated smoke left the Artisan leader's nose as he ran a hand up his face, patience greatly tested. "Please. Not even once? They are a part of your—"

Lindar's hand pushed down on the screwdriver it held so hard, the squeak of protest shocked Nestor more than the clockmaker's dangerously quiet tone did.

"No. They're. Not."

Oh dear. Nestor backed up and held his hands up in a placating manner, a gesture that seemed to be happening a lot today. He knew better than to push the clockmaker too far on this matter. Still, the Ecologists would no doubt visit this homeworld at some point; it wouldn't do to antagonize them.

"Will you at least mind your tongue around them in the event any arrive here?" the carpenter asked in exasperation.

Lindar paused this time, hands still. "...No promises."

Good enough, Nestor decided with an eyeroll as he finally departed from the clockshop. In truth, he felt some relief that the conversation ended on less of a sour note than expected. Other Artisans harbored similar sentiments about the far-removed clan and Nestor intended to notify them as well, but Lindar had a bad habit of letting his sharp tongue run ahead of his brain. It wouldn't do for everyone to start off on the wrong foot so quickly.

Speaking of foot…

The moment Nestor closed the door behind himself, the sound of loose stones being rustled drew his attention to a nearby well. He arched a brow and schooled a deadpan gaze. "You can all come out now."

At first nothing happened. Then some murmurs. At last a guilt faced Spyro, Sparx, and Elora edged out into view and gave the unimpressed elder nervous smiles.

"H-Hey Nestor!" Spyro greeted in an awkward tone, "Sooooo them Ecologists, huh?"

Nestor merely rolled his eyes as he faced the trio with crossed arms. He suspected Spyro would have done something like this (heck the Artisan leader would have almost been concerned if he hadn't), and Sparx by association, but the fact that the more responsible faun joined in took him for a loop.

Indeed, Elora set her hands behind herself in meekness and quickly bowed her head. "We're very sorry, Mr. Nestor, sir. We just didn't want to be kept in the dark about all this."

Fair enough, the dragon leader supposed, someone might as well tell them. He jerked his head towards the exit. "Come along then, you three. I'll catch you up to speed."

Despite being caught, Elora couldn't help but smile in intrigue as she and her friends followed Nestor back to the Artisan Homeworld.

Things just got interesting.