I was going to have this up sooner. And then my draft went missing in my computer file. And that was AFTER I realized that I had completely forgotten about this fanfic since I've been feeling a bit depressed and haven't had much contact with the outside world much when not on my full time internship… I was also planning to make this longer to make up for the previously really short and shitty chapter.

After some time, after the headaches had stopped and the tears no longer flowed so freely, Hunter quietly gathered up the Oracle Keys and crawled up. Bits of crystal scattered from his clothes and flashed brightly in what little moonlight seeped through the boarded window.

The first thing he noticed was the horrible stench clinging stubbornly to him. The irony scent of blood mingled too well with smells like dank water and mud. His clothes were finally beyond repair this time. What worried him more though was how they were much too small now. His shirt and vest was stretched tight and his shorts were definitely above the knee now. Other odd things included nails that resembled claws, and that his hair, even while tangled and matted with mud still reached the middle of his back. Whatever sleep he had been in was for a long time.

So why was he so tired and exhausted? He felt as if his body was recovering from the aftermath of sprinting through a marathon or something. Legs refused to not bend at the knees, his ankles rolled over even the slightest pebble, and picking up the clothes by the door felt like carrying weights. Even the door was a struggle to push open. For a moment, a horrified thought passed through his mind. Had his muscles atrophied during the time he lay there, immobile and refusing all sustenance? Quickly, he checked his body. Rather than losing weight, it seemed he had gained more muscle instead. Thankfully, it wasn't bulky, or else his flexibility could be compromised. It was lean and fluid. Rather, it seemed to resemble the bodies of people like Igneous. The body of a teenager to say the very least.

The implications whispered horror stories into his mind that he squashed down as quickly as possible. No. He wasn't going to think about something like that right now. As he slowly moved down the halls of the palace, people crowding the hallways either were sound asleep or staring desperately at his blue Manacle. He ignored their stares and hurried to the bathrooms.

If anything was good about living underground, it was geothermal heat. The baths were always warm. To his surprise, a torch was already lit and he didn't have to blindly grope across the shelf for the tired old flint. A boy that looked about his age glared sharply at him.

"Huh? Weren't the older kids supposed to be out on patrol right now? This is seriously the only time the baths are empty."

His gaze however then caught the blood splattered across Hunter's clothes, particularly the large pool over his chest.

"What the-?! Are you alright?" he yelped, about to scramble out of the water.

"You don't have to get out! I'm fine!"

The boy stared incredulously at him, but then, after noticing how nothing was actually bleeding, quietly retreated back under the water to his chin. Hunter quickly stripped and slid into the warm water. His tense muscles relaxed from the heat and he sighed.

"Do you need soap?"

Hunter looked around himself and nodded; a bit embarrassed he had forgotten something so important. A dish with a bar of soap floated over.

"Thanks. What's your name?"

He must have looked pretty bad for a complete stranger to gaze so pityingly at him.

"Quartz. Who… Who are you? I haven't seen you before, and I live here. You look absolutely exhausted."

"That's because I am. I don't know why. I just woke up," he replied, right as his stomach growled angrily.

"Oh."

Quartz tried to muffle his laughs, but eventually Hunter joined in and they laughed loudly, despite the late night.

"Sorry, my name's Hunter!"

Quartz adjusted his seat under the water and curiously repeated the word.

"Hunter. Hunter. That's an odd name. Sounds a bit familiar. Oh? What's with that scar?"

Hunter looked at him, puzzled.

"What scar? Where is it?"

"On your chest," Quartz answered, his voice trailing off in disbelief. Was this guy really older than him by a few years? He sure looked it. Who missed a hideous scar like that?

Hunter examined his chest, and sure enough, a large scar was stretched over his sternum, like an ugly blotch of pinkish scar tissue. The pale sheen of it looked sickly under the poor torchlight. When he touched it, the damaged skin couldn't feel a thing.

"Guess even the Oracle can't heal something like this," he muttered under his breath. "Thanks for pointing it out."

"That's fine. You want to start washing all that dirt off of you?"

"That is actually a really good idea."

Cleaning off everything felt wonderful. The filth turned the water around him a cloudy grey and even Quartz inched further away. When he was all clean, Hunter tried to pull himself out of the tub, but couldn't. He a bit more effort in and this time managed to get out. As he put on the new clothes he had found by the shattered crystal, he wondered just how paranoid his near death had made the others.

There was a fitted black undershirt and leggings, with metal plates attached to strategic areas, such as the front of the turtleneck and his shins and the wrists of the long sleeves. Over went a loose, short-sleeved tunic and a new pair of shorts. There really was no need for the armoring in his opinion, but if the others thought so, then why not. There was no way he could get stabbed through the chest now, and the clothes were so soft and barely any heavier despite the metal. After he adjusted the clothes to be comfortable, he pushed back his bangs which nearly reached his chin now and put on the headband. Finally he snapped on his Manacle and stretched, an utterance of pleasure escaping from his mouth.

"Whew! Feeling so much better now!"

Quartz had also gotten out and gotten dressed. Looking at Quartz's clothes, Hunter could've sworn it was a military uniform of sorts. He looked only thirteen or so, so why would he be in something like that?

"That crest-! You didn't tell me you were a Spider Rider! Wait, that Manacle too!"

On the side of his right calf on the leggings was an embroidered spider of gold with a small green gem sewn in. He raised his leg and examined it closely.

"It looks really pretty."

"That spider's gold too! That's supposed to be the mark of the Oracle's knight! Huh?" Realization slowly dawned on him. "Are you, the Hunter Steele?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"I've heard the other Spider Riders always mention that name, and they always told us that we'd have the Oracle's knight soon. Everyone was excited that they might be chosen, but I guess they meant something entirely different," he explained, his eyes becoming pained near the end. Hunter watched him, and then lightly whacked Quartz in the stomach.

"C'mon, straighten up! Bad posture can be pretty bad for you! Don't ever give up, alright? Go with the flow."

Quartz chuckled and did as Hunter said.

"You're right. That's good advice. Do you need to eat anything? Your stomach is still growling."

"Please! I'm starving!"

"You sure don't seem like a knight of the Oracle. How old are you?"

"Twelve."

Quartz choked on his words and his jaw muscles lost all tension.

"No way! No way! That can't be possible! I'm thirteen. You look around fifteen or sixteen!"

"Oh. So. Oh. I was asleep for three years?"

"What exactly happened to you?"

"I got stabbed by a failure Oracle and the real one saved my life."

The nonchalant explanation was so outrageous that Quartz simply accepted it in stride. It was late, and his willingness to deal with something like this was drifting away by the minute.

"Let's go get something to eat."

"Oh, don't worry, I know the way."

"Yeah, but we're technically on rationing right now."

"What? No fair."