Derek felt his conscience at his feet, slowly crawling and swimming up to his brain to give him a wake up call. Seconds later, he found himself wide awake as his weightless eyes shot left to right in an uneasy search. The cold air had grown to a devil's frost during the night, as chilly and freezing as the winter. It surrounded him like a fiendish blanket. Derek found himself awake by a large, shady tree that swayed eerily with the dusting winds. The ground was cold and frosty, and he slowly breathed in the air in deep breaths, filling his strangely hot mouth with the coolness. He found himself sweating for some reason, and he knew something wasn't right. Something didn't feel right. And he felt obligated to find out what.

Slowly, Derek cautiously crept to his feet. He shot his eyes back and forth, taking careful looks at the rustling shrubs and thin powerless grass blades. His straight black hair filtered the drifting breezes. He took heavy, uneasy breaths as he felt threatened to take a step forward. The sound of his Geta slipper crunching slightly on the grass and soil rustled in his ears in the late night silence. In the distance, he heard a long, infinite wind blowing, like Mother Nature trying to call for help.

The night had turned orange and turned its back on the three boys. The darkness navy churned into old, mythical oranges and heavy, bleak reds. Everything looked like it was in an old photograph, the bare colors filling all the wasted values. A crescent moon hung high in the sky, shining its sliver of light across the orange sky. Glittering stars faded away, and a deviant mist swam across the crescent smile creepily like a blanket for the night. The wind was strong and light, just enough to wrestle with the branching tree branches and rustle the bushy leaves.

Derek had an eerie feeling at heart. He sensed something was wrong, out of place. Yet everything around him looked so normal, he wondered in the back of his mind if he had gone crazy. Why did I just suddenly wake up? Derek thought. Why don't I feel tired at all? Hints of panic sprung from Derek's emotions as he turned his head quickly to find his two teammates wide awake as well, standing side by side. They stared at him with a friendly, solemn smile.

Derek turned back and stared once more at the crescent moon. "Something's not right," he muttered to his friends. "The moon's crescent tonight, but before we went to sleep, it was gibbous."

Tree pairs of eyes gazed up at the curvy object in the sky as it was wrapped in fame and a thick mist. Black silhouettes portraying bats began to float up and fly around it creepily, the wings flapping up and down like mechanical levers. The sight gave Derek a disturbing feeling, another signal something just wasn't right.

"This place doesn't look…right," Derek took notice, feeling the sudden urge to move towards the moon. Before he knew it, he felt the cool air swim around his feet as he walked through it, pacing slowly towards the moon. He was soon followed by his quiet teammates, who were so scared, they couldn't say a word. Derek wasn't really scared. He just felt panicky, and a bit annoyed. He was the mature one. If they were going to get out of this weird mess, it would be him to do it.

Derek began to sweat more, but it was still unnoticeable with the cold around him. He felt his breaths grow heavier and heavier with each and every step, the noise of inhaling filling his ears now, ringing like a bell. The moon seemed to grow bigger in the sky as well as the team neared it. Zack and Dylan trailed closely.

"Look over there," Dylan whispered, his voice weak. His voice took Derek's eyes away from the shining moon and straight ahead into the swampy road. What he found took away his thoughts and let them free, now lost in his mind somewhere. His eyes held themselves bold in their sockets as they gazed at the silhouette scene ahead. Three large cross looking silhouettes stuck in the ground ahead surrounded by a creepy mist of the night. They stood creepily and still, mysterious in the pooling mist around them.

Derek had the sudden instinct to walk forward, wanting to reach out to the silhouette. He didn't know why he wanted to – he just felt like he had to. He swallowed a big knot in his throat of nervousness as a sweat drop rolled down the side of his face.

As he neared the crosses, the darkness seemed to sweep back, hesitating to come in contact with Derek. Slowly, they revealed the cross graves, and Dylan and Zack soon followed. What're these doing here? Derek thought as he took meticulous steps towards the grave. They look out of place… and there's something about them that doesn't feel right…

Derek brushed his hand across the stone of the cross and looked at the name, reading it carefully. His eyes widened as he pulled back, feeling the feeling in his legs get lost. He stumbled backward as he read the last two, and got back up on his feet as they resembled his teammate's names. What the hell was going on?

He stared at the names, wishing them away. Shadows behind them began to churn creepily along with Derek's surprise and hinting panic. The shadows began to form figures, three shadows heavy on the three crosses. They formed people, arms and legs, heads, and bodies. They slowly crept out, and the team gasped.

PoVS

Behind Rick's steady paced group in the late night, something began to rise from the wet soil in the ground. It grew and arm that clasped the soil with a strong grip. It picked itself up, the metal hand cooling. Moments later the figure rose completely from the soil dirt-caked and rusty. His eyes beamed brightly in red like a demon.

Now, Lance thought, turning around. He found the enemy in the corner of his eye as millions of silver spheres shuffled from different directions and grouped together around the enemy, sliding each other with friction. Seconds later was there a large explosion, filling Lance's ears and firing warm redness into the sky.

The team stopped running and turned. Rick watched closely with his dark yet electrifying yellow eyes. Marissa's features tightened as she watched solemnly, Lance in her way. The Metal Minor seemed to stand up to the challenge, standing close to the area of explosion.

Feeling the stares peel of his back, Lance watched the cloud of smoke and explosive red float away and clear slowly. The night was young and had just set the chilling cold air. Nighttime stars twinkled in the sky like beckoning beads or eyes, the moon glowing high in the sky as cold mist blanketed it. Lance stood cross-armed in front of the smoke, his eyes thin and piercing into the puffs of gray and black.

He posed toughly as the wisps of concealment faded away to the night sky above. The scenery used the smoke like glitter. The smoke whisked away until tiny spheres that hung suspense in the air were seen, like tiny embellishments in the fabric of the rising and clearing fog. In the middle of it all soon came a figure – a silhouette portrayed in the dying smoke.

Lance didn't give, keeping his thin stare so thin it could give paper cuts. His crossed arms tightened against his chest, and it hurt only a bit. I can't deal with this, Lance decided. I feel too tired. We've been running forever but we're so slow we can't get anywhere… Lance felt like yawning but he held it back. He knew he had to remain fully aware of what was going to happen. Coldness seeped through the openings in his clothes, the drowsy coolness shaking his conscious state rigorously.

The smoke cleared as his thoughts finished, the contributing gas wavering away completely. In the smoke, the figure was finally seen, standing high and still in his place where he had risen, not shaken at all from the shuffling explosion. He had no skin – just a type of metallic armor that seemed to cover his body, even in a mask of a sort that showed piercing dotted eyes. He looked like a robot, yet his body structure remained so thin that it had to be his own skin.

"I see," the being said as streaming smoke streaked away from his limbs from the explosion, pushing away the metallic orbs with his arms. They were heavy against his arm. "Friction, huh?" he said, his voice deep and echoing in his own body. He had no mouth from which he spoke from. It just seemed to vibrate out of his body as he stared straight ahead all the time.

"Who are you?" Lance said, shifting his feet. He was ready to do some damage. Lance thickened his stare and took a deep breath, the cold air filling his stomach with a calming comfort. The light wind brushed his long hair backward. He knew Rick and Marissa had their eyes glued on the scene.

"Someone who…" the blue metallic figure said, brushing more metal spheres away to make room. They were suspended heavily in the air like dots, holding on to the lingering suspense. "Who has a challenge," he finished finally, his voice shaky, the steam still rising from various parts of his body, the metal smoking from the friction.

"Challenge?" Lance said, raising one eyebrow. He's got to be kidding, Lance thought. Suddenly, the Minor began to feel more comfortable. Being only just feet away from the enemy, he was almost interested in what he had to say. "What are you talking about? Who are you?" Lance said with caution. I can't overlook this guy, he thought to himself. He's here, so he's got to be a societal danger somehow. Lance began examining him closely with his eye for detail and took notes quickly by scanning as they continued their conversation.

"Yes. A challenge. It's not hard to tell you're one of the most talented of the group," the opponent said, his voice buzzing. He had finally made enough space for him to move around. The metal spheres were piercing with pain to move. They were so hard and heavy; it was amazing just how Lance used his metal. "But I bet that I'm better than you are," he said confidently. "My name is Otoshiana," he explained finally.

"So what do you want from us?" Lance demanded, taking his hands and putting them by his side, staring hard and narrow at his opponent. I can't trust this guy an ounce, Lance thought, clenching his fist in early preparation.

Otoshiana smirked and gave a short chuckle. Lance tightened his fist and pulled back. Suddenly, a few feet behind the two, at Rick, something zoomed from the bushes. Out of the dark, lush and wet bushes came tens of strings that whistled as they rushed past, surprising Rick, forcing him a bit backward.

Marissa cried out as she was taken into the mechanical arms that sprung from the plants, and was gripped tight against the bark of the tree. She felt the cold, damp wood crawl into her skin and blood. She winced and tried to keep her eyes open, wondering if she was still alive.

"Marissa!" Rick cried out, his eyes wide with shock. The cold wind seemed to pick up suddenly. Marissa moaned in uneasiness and groaned in grief. Rick took action quickly and ran up to the hissing wires, and held his hand high. He felt the energy pout into it as the confidence build up.

"I wouldn't do that," Otoshiana insisted. Rick stopped and cried out. He stared blankly and bleakly at Otoshiana. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to save Marissa. But all this… all these wires and enemies and sudden explosions… he didn't know what was what anymore. "…since the task is a fight until death in two hours or else the girl dies immediately," Otoshiana informed.

Rick pulled back. He knew when to stop, and he knew that it wasn't worth it. Lance turned back and stared hard at Rick. It was hard to find his eyes in the darkness, but he found the yellow glare soon enough. Lance nodded in assurance. "It's all right," he whispered. "I'll do it," he said, turning back to Otoshiana.

The robot laughed at Lance's confidence. "By morning, you'll have two people missing from this team," he assured. "And with one person alone in a place like this with much more stronger people than me, pretty boy over there won't last until noon."

The team swallowed tight, heavy knots in their chests, forcing them down in the pits in their stomachs.

PoVS

Eric thrust his fist confidently at the tree, missing Mark's head just barely. He crushed in a large hole that sunk deep into the tree as Mark's expression went wide with surprise. Then, like a snake, he slithered away into the air in a molding form. He changed his appearance into another, more deviant one, leaving Eric there in the darkness with his fist stuck through a tree. Coldness dusted the area as he pulled it back and watched the thing slither away – the intruder that wasn't really the Earth Minor.

It slithered away into the bushes by the trees, and Eric followed with determination, crying out. "What's going on?" Walter muttered to himself as he clung to the tree's side. I should get up and help him look for that thing, Walter realized, getting up. Suddenly, he heard more rustling from the same set of bushes. He ducked, feeling a rush of cold air. He watched carefully with narrow, meticulous eyes. The large trunk of the tree would hide him, but not as much as he wanted it to be.

From the bushes rose that slithering thing again, but it looked a bit different, yet Walter couldn't tell how. It rushed through the darkness, racing like an air lizard. It was followed by the real Mark, who came out of the bushes with a huge jump, then landing by pummeling his fist into the ground. The earth took a quaking hit yet damaged nothing he aimed for. Walter felt his feet unsteady a bit as the ground shake and the tree rattle like a baby's toy. Sets of leaves fell together and floated smoothly down to the floor.

Mark sighed as he stumbled to his feet. Walter slowly crept from beneath the trunk of the tree and faced the Earth Minor. Mark stared at him cautiously. "What's going on?" Walter demanded.

"I lost him," Mark complained, not answering his teammate's question. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, blaming himself for letting the easy escape happen. "I overlooked everything," Mark said to himself. "I can't believe it."

Seconds later, Eric crawled from the bushes as well, looking uncomfortable, the sweat gone from his face now. "I lost mine, too," he told.

"There were two?" Walter said confusedly. His mouth dropped open in a wide O of shock. It almost seemed comical. The Water Minor calmed himself and took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if he were going to meditate. "What were those things?" Walter asked seriously, his voice bleak and dull. He sounded as mean and uncaring as ever, his voice tough and hiding the unbearable pain and sadness he always seemed to carry on his back. The same pain and sadness Eric so desperately wanted to find.

"I don't know," Eric said, coming closer. The shade of the bushy heads of the tall trees blanketed him with a ebony shadow. "But whatever they were," he began, looking at them from left to right. Serious and confused expressions were painted on them. Eric swallowed heavily. "They're definitely after us."