Jak and Daxter: Legacy

Chapter 6: Blue in the Dark

The Glass Meadows were the closest thing to a furnace Jak could imagine. Southern Nadoa was a soggy mess, but he'd have taken constant rain over the muggy wind that now sighed over the plains. He and Daxter took shelter in the shadow of scraggly trees by the road whenever they could, which were often occupied by other travelers and their yakows. Stinking, musky, braying yakows, baking beneath the suns.

"I hate bein' around smelly animals," Daxter squeaked under his breath as he peeked around Jak's calf at the beasts.

"Except yourself?" Jak whispered back. "And you might want to keep your mouth shut. We're already getting enough weird looks as it is."

"Ya really think we're gonna stand out against Toothy and Lurker over there?"

Jak shoved Daxter back behind himself. Negative human attention was bad enough. But if they annoyed either the Klaww or Babak nearby – Toothy and Lurker, in Daxter's words – he wasn't sure suspicious looks wouldn't turn to bullet holes and mangled arms.

Sandover Village had welcomed the occasional caravan like theirs, which was where he'd first seen both races. The Klaww were a lizard-like people that looked like they'd been hewn from the dusty wasteland and desert continent – Klawwvak - they called home. They had skin hard as rock, bones unyielding as steel, and sharp angles to their frame. The one leaning against the tree cracked a wide grin when she caught Jak's nervous stare, needle teeth gleaming. Her sand colored arms were wrapped around a large black rifle; another curiosity from the north, its tip frothing with unspent yellow eco.

Her finger teased the trigger as their staring match continued. He knew from rumor that each ring on the edge of their hoods stood for how many they'd killed. At least a hundred weighed heavy on hers, squeezed together like a stack of gold coins. Jak swallowed hard and looked away. From the corner of his eye, he could see she let her finger back down again from the trigger, though her tail still whipped the grass by her feet.

The Babak, on the other hand, was a sadder sight.

They usually hailed from the tropical isles of the same name. They were a peaceful people, though they also looked intimidating; gorilla-like forms with hulking muscles, purple fur, and manes of either red, blue, or black. Their bottom jaws jutted out as bare bone, which gave them an underbite that would have looked funny had they not been crowned with sharp fangs.

Jak had never seen one without shackles. This one sat hunched on the ground, rising only when his human owner barked orders at him. But between fetching water and tending to the yakows, he trailed his claw aimlessly in the dirt. At one point, they brought out loaves of bread, passing them around their group. The human owner cracked his walking staff against the Babak's scarred back when he reached for one.

"Keep your damned paws off! You eat when we get to Passheart."

The Klaww guard grinned and rasped out, "Stupid Lurkers never learn their place, do they? Mechs are much better, Krahn. Metal slaves don't need food and don't complain."

"They also cost much more than the fortune I already pay you to keep quiet and protect my shit."

Her tail whipped the grass again.

Jak tightened his grip on his water pouch. Like always, the owner was an Unwise man, though Jak knew not all the Unwise peoples accepted slavery. Sepsu and her folk were good examples, but the further north they went, the more that towns like Kunino would be rare.

Jak pulled a moonfruit from his pack and waited, hiding its white flesh between cupped hands. Then, pretending to admire the fog-scarved mountains in the distance, Jak placed it on the ground and rolled it towards the Babak while no one was looking. It bounced off the finger the Babak was trailing in the dirt. He glanced up, yellow eyes wide. They softened atop a toothy grin when he caught Jak smiling back from beneath his hood.

The Babak quickly tucked the fruit into his tattered sleeve and feigned a frown. The only thing that betrayed his gladness was that his drawings on the ground now formed perfect shapes instead of chaotic scribbles.

A sly ottsel smirk appeared at Jak's side.

"What?" Jak whispered.

Daxter shrugged. "Oh, nothing."

The caravan had long jostled off by the time Jak and Daxter readied themselves to leave. They left the tree and both grimaced on the first footfall onto the suns-baked road.

They hiked for dreadful hours. That was all they'd been doing for two days. The Glass Meadows was a small empty space on his map, but went on forever like a golden, sweltering ocean. They usually passed the time by talking. Well, Jak listening and Daxter chatting his little head off, really. But now the ottsel was silent as he padded along, shadowed under the tall grasses that hugged the road's edge. At first, Jak didn't mind the quiet, but after a while it felt like something was missing, like rustling taken from a forest's leaves, or a stream moving along without murmur.

None of what the ottsel had said in the previous days was of any substance anyways, though, so it wasn't as if he was missing much. Jak had searched for fragments of a past in Daxter's words. But there were none. Now that he thought about it, what had he learned about the ottsel?

" But my absolute favorite is eel soup! You ever had it before? It's kinda like if you mixed jelly and cold fish together in a salty broth. Aww, don't pull that face! It's a lot better than I make it sound. When we get to Haven, you'll see what I mean."

" I'm a blonde kind of guy myself. Redheads, green, and blue gals are great, but blondes are just somethin' else."

"So there I was, surrounded by five of the nastiest tigerbears you've ever seen. Drool oozing from razor sharp fangs! Blood trickling from the claws they'd torn men apart with! Slowly, all ten of them surround me. But do I give up and become tigerbear dinner? No! I summon my highly trained killer instincts and draw out my pistol and... KA-BLAM PEW KA-BLAM! One by one, I shoot 'em down. Red's spurtin' everywhere in a rain of triumphant glory. And then, once the dust settles aside the poolin' blood, I smile as I realize there are twenty less tigerbears in the world."

Not that he blamed Daxter. After all, one of their "rules" was to not ask about the other's history. But beyond mundane things like what the ottsel liked to eat, what he preferred in human women (an image Jak vowed to block out), and how much he loved to lie, he didn't know much about Daxter.

"You okay?" Jak finally asked.

"My paws are about ready to melt, I've got a hangnail, and I think I just swallowed a fly," Daxter gave a dramatic cough. "But other than that, yeah. I'm okay."

"Do you…?"

Jak trailed off. He liked – no, endured – Daxter enough to travel with him, but the idea he had in mind was just too strange to entertain. The thought of another person being so close, to let Daxter ride on his shoulder or to carry him, was as foreign to him as the lands surrounding. When was the last time he'd let someone near, anyway? Had it been Sepsu's pat on his back for healing her people? Or when Keira had let go of his hands for the last time?

"Do I what? Nadoa to Bigfoot! You with me?"

Jak hid his face in the shadow of his hood. "Nothing."

The fields rolled into slopes, crisscrossed with the same glowing pipes they'd been seeing for days. As time wore on, the pipes, himself, Daxter, and the path all headed for the same break in the mountain range ahead, a lightning bolt of blue sky between the stone. They reached its zenith in the hour before sunset. The trees turned from creaking skeletons to lush pines, which clustered around a town's walls like a green fur coat. Jak expected jade silk banners, more vines than the eye could fathom, and humble thatched huts, having passed so many green tribe villages in the previous weeks.

But this, he realized as he pulled his map out, was Passheart Village. Blue tribe territory.

Banners waved above, navy like the descending night. Arches and houses made of dark wood and brass, inlaid with channels of eco like electric blue veins, peeked over the gates ahead. The pipes that had snaked across the Glass Meadows met in the town's center past the caravans ambling ahead. They resembled an ancient, glowing tree trunk as they wove into the ground together, emerging at the farthest end of the town - a cliff - like roots into the chasm beyond.

On the brass ruin above the gates, Jak could make out the words Harvest Site Beta in Precursorian.

"Cool, isn't it?" Daxter asked at last.

"Wonder what they used them for?"

"Probably for moving eco about."

Jak raised a brow. "You talking about the Precursors?"

"No, I'm talking about the tribal rubes who are currently using those marvels of technology to light their smelly huts, of course."

"Did I salt a wound or something?"

"Up north, they'd die for all the eco and tech these tribes just sit on."

"Eco's everywhere."

"Used to be. Mind if I get a lift?"

Jak's refusal died on his lips as the ottsel scrambled up his leg and arm without waiting, then into his pack.

"Great, now I'll have fur all over my clothes. And what do I do? There's so much... everything."

"What kind of backwater are you from, anyway? It's a town! It's not much different than the villages we've passed through. You eat, sleep, and get fleeced by merchants here. Sheesh, never thought I'd see the day an ottsel would have to teach a human how to human."

Jak's cheeks seared. "And just how do I find a place to eat, sleep, and not that third thing?"

A fuzzy head appeared from the pack. "Pretend like you know where you're going, ignore anyone that tries to sell you 'genuine' Precursor hearts, and find an inn with some booze. A nice place, but not too fancy or they'll bleed you dry. Oh, and don't worry about pickpockets," Daxter gave a toothy grin. "They'll get a nice set of pearlies in their hand if they try reaching in here."

Jak frowned as Daxter popped back into the bag again. He straightened his back and pulled his hood low over his head, then drew in a deep breath and headed for the gates.

Jak squeezed through the crowds. So many people were near, the air permeated with the smell of sweat and spices and far off places, voices yelling until his ears rang, and bodies pushing against him. He was in a plaza of some sort. The eco pipes were the central hub from which market stalls spread out, like spokes on a wooden wheel. There was so much to see on the tables - fruits, textiles, bits of bronze metal torn from ruins and robots long dead, and many other things - that Jak's eyes almost hurt.

He found a less busy corner of the market and searched the horizon. Little houses dotted the cliffs beside Passheart. One was much larger than the rest. He recognized that it was a sage's house, due to the Precursorian character for 'wise' emblazoned like three glowing rivers on its pillars. A tinge of guilt nibbled his stomach. He'd never get to see the inside of it, now. Not that Samos would have ever let him see the other sages, anyways. Jak curled his hands into fists.

A whisper hissed from his pack, "Are we in an inn yet?"

"Tell me again how I pick one out?"

"Ugh," came Daxter's sigh, followed by his head as he peeked out again. "Let's check the signs. Hmm…"

After a moment of looking, Daxter nodded towards one. "There's your place."

It was a building that fit Daxter's earlier description perfectly. Not rickety like some of the others, but not as upscale as some of the inns with silk banners and eco crystal lamps. The sign read The Glowing Muse, decorated with a small, white bearded, golden ferret with large eyes and a green glow about it.

The scent of smoking meat and old wood greeted them as they entered. Various figures sat at the rock tables, heads hung low or lolled back as their owners slept off food and dizzying drink. There were many humans, some Klaww, Babak with their owners, and even a few Kig. The Kig reminded Jak of the Klaww somewhat, but they looked more human-like in frame and gait. They had plantigrade legs, feet with two toes in front and one higher up in the back, and blue chitin for skin. Their small mouths, nose slits, and sharp, sleek, pointed heads gave them a demeanor most disapproving, if not one like they were constantly irritated, at best.

Jak picked his way to the front, trying his best not to step on any tails or three-toed feet. A human innkeeper with purple hair and a creature much like the one on the sign on his shoulder barely looked as Jak stumbled up, too busy wiping a plate.

"Rooms are five orbs for the night. Menu's bronze ale, smoked eel or galapaga over rice, and bread for one orb. Served down here or in your room, if you want."

Daxter made an excited trill from the pack when the keeper said 'eel'.

"Is that a muse I heard?" the keeper asked, peering at the bag, eyes sparkling with interest.

"N-no, it's an-"

Daxter emerged. Without warning, the keeper leaned forward and pulled him out by the scruff. He didn't flinch as Daxter tried to claw away from him, instead scooping him into his arm like a baby in a cradle. Daxter growled until the keeper started rubbing a finger on his chin. At that, Daxter melted into a fuzzy orange puddle.

"I haven't seen an ottsel in years! Where'd you manage to find one?"

"Uh… well," Jak scratched the back of his head. "He found me. I was camping in a cave and he came up and 'borrowed' some of my food."

"Ah, that sounds familiar. Ottsels are clever little things." He let Daxter back down, who was still a wobbly mess as he laid down on the bar. "You often see 'em around those old brass ruins. Not sure why. They say they're a sign of the Precursors' favor. You must be a lucky kid."

He looked down at Daxter with a reluctant smile, remembering how he'd rescued him a few days back. "I've earned it."

Jak and Daxter ate in silence at a table in the back corner. Jak spent the time watching the other patrons, asking himself why they were traveling. Money, probably. There were things to be sold, items to be smuggled, mercenaries to hire or caravans to be hired by.

Wish I was that free, Jak thought.

Daxter glanced at him between bites of eel. Jak ignored him, instead listening to the others speak. Anxiety rose in his gut as he heard stories of the road ahead.

"Basinbreak Pass, eh? I've heard it's not so bad," one red Klaww muttered.

Her companion, a Kig who was tinkering with leather goggles, looked up and narrowed his gray eyes. "You ever been through there before?"

"No, why?"

"Those eco pipes were the only thing that didn't stop when you met the cliff on the other side of town. The only way over was through 'em. There were a few that didn't flow with eco anymore, sure. But the way they wobbled in the wind and all you could see was the abyss below you…" the Kig shuddered. "Though I'd never have believed they'd break, had that accident not happened today."

"Accident?" Jak blurted, then recoiled as the Kig and Klaww jerked their heads his way.

The Kig nodded at the Klaww, grabbed his goggles, then got up and lumbered towards Jak and Daxter's table. He seemed angry, though Jak couldn't tell if it was because that's how Kigs normally looked or he actually was.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop-"

The Kig sat down across from him, the force wobbling the table so hard that Daxter bounced a little from where he sat on the surface. "Interested in hearing the story, eh?"

"I… suppose so?"

"I'll tell it to you," the Kig waved for another bronze ale (his fifteenth, judging by the number of empty ones at his first table), swigged it down in one gulp, and started playing with the glass as he told the story.

Jak pictured everything he explained in all its dreadful detail. There had been some caravans setting out, their carts ambling across a long chasm, lanterns setting the glass pipes that carried them aglow with yellow light. Then had come a rumbling. Boulders tumbled over the cliffs above them, each like a die thrown by fate itself, the merchants hoping none ever landed on their number.

And when they did, that was it. Into the darkness they'd gone.

Jak sat in numb shock. He'd never heard of the ground trembling like that before. This was the path he and Daxter had to take?

"The tremors are done, right?" Jak asked.

"Far as I know, but no one's going to cross Basinbreak any time soon."

"What? Why not?"

"Kid," the Kig slid his glass aside and leaned forward, booze and fish mingling rancid on his breath. "The pipes on this end are all gone. The shards and the bodies of those coingrubbers fell to Precursors know where. No one's getting to Basinside Village on the other end for months, I'll bet, until the sage here can figure something out."

"Months?" Jak asked, a deeper horror crawling through him in as he remembered the wound in his chest, now tingling. "Months!?"

The other patrons stared. Jak had burst up from his seat, knocking his own glass over. It hit the floor, breaking into a million pieces. Jak tried to clean it up, but the keeper waved him away, broom in hand. Jak fell back to his seat, head in his palms.

There's got to be some other way, he thought to himself, then looked up at the Kig and said, "Is that the only path through Basinbreak?"

"Well, there is one other way."

Jak sighed with relief.

"What are you so happy about? No one goes the other way. Ever."

"What's so bad about it?"

The Kig's expression twisted as if he'd bitten into a sour moonfruit. "What's bad about it? What rock did you crawl out from under, kid?"

"Are you going to tell me, or not?"

The Kig sighed and looked away, then slowly nodded. "There's these ancient tunnels that lead through the cliffs. I suspect the Precursors had used 'em to build the pipes in the first place. It's said they can lead you all the way to the Precursor Basin, but no one's been through them in decades. Centuries, probably."

"What's the catch? Is that it?"

"What's the catch, he says," the Kig laughed, which sounded like repeated hissing. "Metal Heads. They crawl around like flies down there. And they wouldn't let a snack just walk by uneaten."

Metal Heads? Jak thought. Sepsu was right.

"You aren't seriously thinking of going down there, right? Forget the Metal Heads – if any of those tremors come back and collapse one of those tunnels, you and your furry friend here are goners."

Jak tightened his hand around his chopsticks.

"Kid? Tell me you're not going."

"Of course not," Jak answered, starting to eat again, every bite slower than the last. "No."

"You okay?"

They were up in their rented room, Jak on the straw bed, Daxter on a cushion on the end table nearby. Jak continued to cough for a few moments, ignoring the ottsel's blue stare, then sniffled and crossed his arms. "Yeah, I'm fine. Think I caught a cold, or something."

His lungs burned. It wasn't uncommon for sickness to spread in the wet season, but this was a different feeling. It reminded him too much of another fiery sensation, which now welled in his chest, growing as he thought of their options for the journey ahead.

Stay and wait for a new path over Basinbreak to be built and he might not make it to Haven in time. Go through the tunnels and they both might die. He couldn't ask Daxter to go down there with him. Perhaps…

"Hey, Daxter?"

"Hmm?"

Jak grimaced as another burning surged through his lungs and chest until he felt like he could puke.

"You're not okay, are you?"

"What?" Jak finally said as it passed. "No, no, I'm fine. It's just... there's something we should talk about."

"Ohhhh, I get it! You're finally gonna tell me your deepest, darkest secret, right? I hate to tell ya this, but I already know, Jak."

"You do?"

There was a long pause as Daxter glanced around, as if making sure no one else was nearby. Then he leaned in close, gaze serious, narrowing.

"You're into brunettes, aren't ya?"

Jak chuckled. Perhaps it was the pain making him a little delirious, the alcohol numbing his inhibitions, or – he hated to admit it – he might have genuinely found it funny. He was about to stifle his amusement and deflect, as always, but the burning in his chest died down. His surprise at the sudden relief brought his hand to the dark eco mark. Did he just imagine it? Or did it really make the pain go away?

"See? I asked you earlier and ya said you didn't care. Now ya can't deny it!"

"I don't care."

"Yeah, suuuuuure ya don't."

The ottsel jumped down from the end table and – leaping over Jak – settled on the windowsill beside the bed. The damp night breeze ruffled his fur and moonlight glinted reflectively on his eyes as he looked at the cliff of Basinbreak.

"You're going down in those tunnels tomorrow, ain't ya?"

"What?"

"That's what you were going to tell me, weren't ya? You already made up your mind at dinner."

"How did you…?"

"Look, I don't know why you're going to Haven, but I can tell you're in a hurry. Whatever it is you're worried about, ya don't have months to spare, Metal Heads and eco tremors be damned."

Jak let out the breath he was holding and looked down, stunned. How did Daxter know? And what were eco tremors?

The ottsel caught Jak's puzzled look, returned to stare at Passheart Village, and continued, "They're common up north. They drill eco from the land until it turns to a dusty, dead husk. Eco keeps things stable. No eco, no stability. No stability, Nadoa itself starts to break apart. It's so bad in some places, the ground is gone completely. Take Basinbreak Pass, for example. The Precursors weren't very careful while diggin' out eco, themselves. Ever wonder why the cities out east are floating?"

Jak hadn't thought of much in the past days besides survival, and before that, gathering herbs and healing sickle cuts. The world beyond had never been a concern to him. But he'd be lying if he claimed the thought of skybound cities didn't make him grin a little.

"They're floating because there's no land out there. They scooped all the eco out centuries ago until it crumbled away. Haven'll be the same within a hundred years, I bet."

"Just how many places have you been?"

"Oh, never off the continent. But I picked up things when I was in Haven. People that end up in Haven usually don't have much more than stories to share, anyways. Too poor."

The ottsel yawned and pounced back onto the cushion by Jak's head, stretching like a cat before curling up.

"Well, time to get some rest. We're going to have a long day tomorrow."

"Daxter, you don't have to-"

"Save the sappy stuff for the tunnels. We're gonna need it when a Metal Head comes prowling and we say our sweet goodbyes."

Jak let go of the words he was about to blurt, instead sighing out. The warmth of the fire nearby and the burning in his chest subsided as he fell to slumber. As the last flame flicker died to smoke, a smile came to his face.

Jak and Daxter left The Glowing Muse early next morning, heads heavy, the village disappearing behind them as they descended to Basinbreak Pass. Unbroken eco pipes shone far in the distance, but those close by emerged from the cliff like broken glass teeth. Blue eco poured from them into the darkness of the chasm. It had already begun to saturate the ground nearby, causing static sparks to crackle around Jak's feet as he walked and Daxter's fur to stand on end.

The entrance the Kig had told them about was not far from the boundary between Passheart's grasses and Basinbreak's dry canyon soil. They stood side-by-side before the yawning cave.

"You ready for this?" Jak asked.

"No, not really."

"So what's our plan? If we find any Metal Heads down there, I mean?"

"Turn tail and run, that's what," Daxter answered.

"Oh. That's... detailed."

Jak readjusted the pack on his back and exchanged a nervous glance with Daxter. Then they entered the dark.

The tunnel shortened not far in, forcing Jak to hunch over. Then it grew narrow enough that he had to shuffle through sideways. Jak feared the Kig had lied and that this would only lead to a dead end. His suspicion dissipated when the tunnel widened to a cavern so large that the light of the green eco frothing from his hand barely touched the drooling stalactites above them.

It reminded him of the ruins back home, bronze machinery gnawed by mineral deposits with pieces rusted or missing, all designed for some unknown, long lost purpose. Like those ruins, these descended continually, meandering for what seemed like miles.

As they wandered through the mist, Jak started to understand why people thought places like these could harbor demons and spirits. The way a shadow shivered beneath light could mimic a monster one moment, then reveal itself as mundane the next.

And the wind... how it howled through the tunnels like a pained moan, distorting as it bounced from wall to wall, carrying the scent of mildew and earth. It was as if the Precursors themselves who had been there long ago were still crying out as they did in their last moments of life.

Jak shivered at the thought. At times, the only thing keeping him from turning around was the fluffy tail brushing his leg. How much time had passed as they walked, Jak didn't know, but the eventual rumbling of Daxter's stomach told him it had at least been hours.

"Has it been that long since we ate breakfast?" Jak asked as they forded over an underground stream.

Daxter cocked his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Your stomach. It growled, right?"

"Jak, I'm two feet tall. Ya think my stomach could make a noise that loud?"

"Well, things echo down here-"

Another growl. Jak and Daxter froze and turned towards the source. Nothing came forward from the dark. No glowing yellow eyes, either. Daxter retreated behind Jak's leg, ears pricked. Jak waited for his heart to cease racing before glancing down at Daxter. They shrugged at each other, hoping they'd only imagined it. Still, as they walked along once more, Jak's heart started to pound again with dread. His eco wound seared to the point that the veins in his chest were starting to feel hot. He drew his sword and tapped on its button to extend it.

Come on, it's just your imagination, he told himself. Calm down.

As they continued, the floor changed, turning from cold stone to something warmer and wetter. Steam sighed from vents about the tunnel. Further on, the wetness changed to something almost… gooey.

"Is this some kind of cave slime, or something?" Jak asked, pulling his feet from the muck. "Ugh, and what are those?"

Ahead, the walls were aglow with yellow orbs, connected by what looked like black veins. Were they eco deposits? Daxter, his ears back, drew closer, his tail shuddering by Jak's ankles as he hid behind him.

"Jak, did I ever t-tell ya about that story I heard of someone who walked into a Metal Head nest once?"

"If it looks anything like this place does, please don't share it."

The ottsel's rare silence sent Jak's heart racing again. Jak held the sword beside them, the brass blade quivering as he failed to hold it steady. A hesitant walk turned into a jog, then into a terrified run, the slime getting thicker, the orbs getting bigger, the tunnel growing smaller and smaller until Jak had to crawl on his knees. At the end of it, after a long tread through slime as his chest seared, he saw something: light.

"That must be the end!" Daxter said.

"Thank the Precursors, it is!" Jak blurted, going faster.

He grabbed Daxter by the scruff and broke into a run again as soon as the ceiling was tall enough for him to do so. They burst into the bright afternoon sunlight, cheering as its warmth hugged their skin and they took in their first breath of fresh air in hours.

"I never thought we were going to make it out of there alive," Jak said, bending over to catch his breath. "And what was all that slime and those glowing things, anyways?"

"Don't know, don't care," Daxter replied, grinning, toppling over to make a dust angel in the dirt. "Sweet, sweet earth! I'll never spit on you again!"

Jak stood back up, smiling at the ottsel. Then something sent him crashing into the ground.

Steel-like claws ripped through his shirt. Cold breath and thick slobber pooled at his neck. It was a dog-like creature, its skin dark and covered with shining steel scales like armor. It stared down at him, its four eyes yellow, narrowed as if analyzing him. Then it turned its face to the sky and howled. A terrible, alien sound, like metal screeching against metal, echoing across Basinbreak and likely alerting all of its kind nearby. Jak twisted and struggled as he realized what it was from Sepsu's words:

" Dark blue, slimy skin, skin plates made of steel, and these creepy yellow eyes that glow in the shadows. You think wolfadgers are bad?"

He kicked it in the gut, sending the beast flying. Its lithe body smacked against the cliff wall. Jak and Daxter scrambled into a run, hoping it'd be stunned long enough to give them a head start. But the creature was up again in no time, its silver, sharp beak snapping at their heels. They headed down a ledge beside Basinbreak's chasm, tottering close to it far too many times for Jak's comfort. A fork in the path lay before them: to the left, there was more narrow ledge, to the right, a nook in the cliff wall that looked like it might lead to safer ground.

Jak and Daxter didn't even glance at each other to agree on it. They booked to the right, dodging and sliding under eco pipes and climbing over ancient Precursor machinery. Static started to crackle in the air again. Blue eco, uncontained. Jak figured out where it was coming from when they turned the last corner.

It was a dead end, a pool of blue eco roiling in the center as broken pipes running over the cliff above poured more into the hollow. Jak and Daxter turned around, shaking. They were trapped between an electric death trap and the Metal Head, who was prowling ever close, claws tearing deep grooves into the dirt. Eco sparked hot near Jak's back as they slowly stepped away from the creature. They had two options: let the eco jolt through them like lightning and stop their hearts, or get eaten alive.

"Jaaaaaak?" Daxter whimpered at his side.

Jak took a step in front of Daxter, readying himself to defend against claws and teeth. The Metal Head pounced forward. Jak tried to sidestep and swing his sword but instead tripped backwards, heel caught on a crack in the stone. He fell into the blue eco.

"Bigfoot!"

It was as if ice filled his veins, but at the same time left his skin hot as electricity crackled against it. It was the polar opposite of green eco, which soothed like a warm balm. And unlike dark eco, it did not strangle or poison like a hungry parasite. It was independent, rivering from hand to heart to hand, Jak as its highway rather than its friend or host. He and the blue eco worked together like machinery and electricity, giving and taking direction and power in a cycle of mutual purpose.

He stood up and, letting the blue eco work as it desired, channeled it into a bolt that lashed out and bathed everything in a white flash.

The bolt struck the Metal Head right in the chest. It flew backwards into the stone wall, slid back down, and never moved again, its body smoking, electricity still crackling between its metal plates. Daxter recoiled, afraid it would get up, but Jak knew better. Nothing could get hit by blue eco like that and survive. Unless, of course, you could channel it like Jak had just done.

Jak stepped forward out of the blue glow, slumped to the ground, and just knelt there.

A little orange head peeked over his arm. "Jak, are you okay?"

"I think so," Jak blinked slowly, trying to catch his breath. "Precursors, that was a Metal Head, wasn't it?"

"Forget the Metal Head!" Daxter yelped, throwing his paws back in glee. "We knew those things were here. But you? You freakin' toasted that thing like yakow sausage over a campfire! You didn't tell me you could channel blue eco!"

"I.. didn't know I could."

"What? But ya looked like you were old hat at it. You sure?"

"Positive," Jak answered, barely believing it himself. A few minutes ago, he'd thought the blue eco would have killed him. All his life, he'd only been able to channel green eco. Samos' teachings echoed in his head:

"You'll notice that humans are the only race that can channel all the colors. Sure, a Klaww can bend yellow or red. Even the Moncaw can channel blue, red, and yellow. But only humans can attain any of the four."

"All four at once!?" little Jak had asked, blue eyes gleaming.

Samos laughed. "No, of course not! It's unheard of for a human to channel more than one. Besides, what'd be the point of that, anyway? It takes many lifetimes to master just one kind."

"But what about that guy the painted face people that came with that caraban the other day were talking about-"

"'Caravan', Jak," Samos corrected.

"Whatever! They said he could do all four. And light eco, because light eco is all of them together, right!?"

Samos' gaze darkened. "Jak, as well meaning and kind as the monks from the north are, they are not to be believed."

"Why?"

The sage had sighed. "What they preach is completely irrational and false. It's a disrespect to the Precursors themselves."

"Oh yeah, they said the Precursors were evil," little Jak replied, shifting his feet nervously. "That part wasn't as cool. But... how do we know they were wrong about that hero they were talking about?"

"Because there never has been a human that could channel all four types at once, never mind light eco. It's physically impossible. And that hero was nothing more than someone who was a talented warrior - there's no evidence that he ever performed the miracles they speak of. To say he was put here by the Precursors themselves and then turned against them... it's likely propaganda, boy, warped over time into a religion."

"Propa... gandi?"

"'Propaganda'. It means, lies people in power tell others to keep themselves in power. The northern cities are rife with such delusions. A man warring against the Precursors and surviving... hah! That's the only way they can keep themselves on their throne, you see."

"Samos? How come you know so much about up there?"

"Hmm? Oh, well... you've lived as long as I have, and have met as many people as I have, you learn quite a lot, boy. Which is what you should be doing, if you weren't so busy pestering me with unrelated questions!"

Yet here Jak was, blue eco sparking from his palms as the last of it channeled free. More than one eco. Was this a side effect of his dark eco poisoning? Or was it because of his strange origins? He did look like a mix of all the tribes, as Keira had said.

"Daxter, did you ever meet any humans in the northern cities who could use more than one eco?"

When the ottsel didn't answer, Jak glanced over at him. Daxter shuddered on four paws, tail bristling, ears flattened. Jak followed his stare to what he thought was the still-smoking Metal Head.

"It's dead, Daxter."

"Yeah? W-well…" Daxter shrunk to the ground, putting his paws over his head. "They're not!"

Yellow eyes blinked in the rocky crevices above them. Jak barely had time to get back up and grab his sword before Metal Head after Metal Head poured from the darkness. He grabbed Daxter by the scruff again and ran back the way they'd come, then down the other tine of the road fork they'd passed earlier.

He tripped. They rolled down the thin path alongside Basinbreak's chasm, tumbling for a long while, Jak grabbing at anything he could to stop their fall, hoping with all his might that they didn't slip over the edge.

He clutched a thin tree root on the cliffside just before they were about to slide into the abyss, his hands hot from the friction, Daxter clinging to his hood. Some of the Metal Heads lunged after them. Most weren't lucky, falling into the chasm below. A few scrabbled onto another ledge not far beneath his feet and started pawing and snapping at his toes, while others screeched and snarled above. What to do? Climb back up and get eaten? Or fall to the lower ledge and get eaten anyways?

Sweat rolled down his temple. He gritted his teeth, holding back the dark eco inside him with all his might.

We can get out of this, Jak. I just have to think.

He looked around, desperate for any answer to their predicament. Up above, there were other tree roots and vines growing from the rock. Down past the ledge below where Metal Heads waited hungrily, there was an unbroken glass eco pipe that stretched over the chasm to another ledge that was even lower but further ahead. If he could get past the Metal Heads below, he and Daxter could shimmy over the pipe and get to safety. But first-

"Daxter?"

"Y-yeah?"

The root he held onto started to loosen. Metal Head breath puffed like ice against his toes.

"I have a dagger in my belt. Can you climb down me and pull it out?"

"I think so."

Jak grimaced, scared little claws digging in his back as Daxter lowered himself down. More Metal Heads found their way to their brethren on the ledge below them, growling, pawing at the ground in drooling hunger.

"Jak, there's more comin'! What do I do!? I can't fight these things off myself, not even if I had a gun! This toothpick is useless!"

"Daxter, I need you to climb back up now and cut one of those vines above us loose from the soil. Don't look down. Don't worry about me. Just focus on that."

"What!? Are ya crazy!? That's not gonna hold your weight!"

The root Jak held onto pulled out further and dirt showered onto his face. Jak squinted and curled his legs up, abdomen burning as he struggled to keep his feet free of the snapping Metal Head teeth below. "Just do it!"

The ottsel scampered up his back, then shimmied up his arms. A long orange streak stretched from his shoulder to the roots above. Daxter sawed at a vine, the dagger gleaming in his paw. Finally, the vine came loose, and Daxter clamped it in his mouth and looked back down at Jak for an answer.

"Tie it around your waist," Jak said.

The ottsel did just that. He started to scamper back up to the other vines.

"We don't need another one."

"What are ya talkin' about? What about you?"

Jak tightened his right hand's grip on the tree root more, then let go with his left and held it up. "Hand me the other end of your vine. I'm going to swing you to that pipe over there. When you land, grab hold of it and run. I won't let go until I know you've got a foothold. I'll try to distract them as you run."

"But-"

"I can… handle myself," Jak said, the dark eco wound in his chest burning even hotter than his abdomen and right arm and hand, so close to slipping. "Run and don't look back, no matter what you hear. If I don't catch up within a few hours, assume the worst, and keep going."

"I'm not going to lea-"

Jak yanked Daxter off his back with a tug of the vine. The ottsel went swinging back over the abyss, screeching, covering his eyes as Jak got enough momentum going to toss him forward onto the pipe. The ottsel hit it with a clang. The Metal Heads took instant notice. Daxter sat there, trembling on the glass, staring back at Jak in sheer horror.

Jak let go of Daxter's vine. "Run!"

That sent the ottsel flying. A few Metal Heads tried to take chase, but their eagerness made them clumsy and sent them slipping over the side of the pipe to the hungry dark below, and the rest turned back to Jak as he started kicking at them to get their attention off of Daxter. Relief flooded Jak's gut when he saw Daxter safe on the ledge afar on the chasm's other side.

Now it was his turn. He pulled his sword free from his belt with his left hand, clicked the button to extend it, and let go of the root with his right. Sparks flew as he stabbed the sword into rocky soil of the cliff wall beside him and slid down.

One Metal Head was already on his back by the time he met the ledge below. He flipped around and slammed the Metal Head into the wall. It let go and he slashed out at the others before him. The blade clattered useless against the steel plates on their backs, though he managed to land a few cuts on their faces, bellies, and paws.

Slowly backing up as he cut a defensive path through them, he picked his way to the pipe. More and more Metal Heads rounded the ledge – way too many to fight. Why wasn't the dark eco taking over? Before, it'd been like flipping a switch. Now it refused to do anything but sear like a sun in his chest.

Sure, it triggers when I don't want it to and doesn't when I do!

This was it. He either had to try his luck with the pipe, or try fighting off the Metal Heads in his useless, eco-less state.

He took a step back onto the pipe. The leading beast lunged. Jak managed to dodge, but he was sent slipping over the pipe's edge. In the last moment before the abyss could claim him for sure, he hooked his sword over the pipe. One hand on the pommel, the other trickling with blood as he grabbed its blade directly, Jak swung over the darkness, the sword above him sliding him down the pipe as if he were rappelling down a rope. It took every last ounce of willpower in his body to hold fast to that blade, even as it dug into his fingers and they bled more, but he made it to the opposite ledge and managed to collapse onto solid ground.

Jak took his uncut hand and tried to summon green eco to heal the other, but the eco fluttered like frail green smoke trails. Instead, he stuck the bleeding hand in his pocket, hoping that would work as a temporary bandage of sorts, dragging his sword behind him with the other as he hurried along.

"Daxter!" Jak yelled, surprised he was still alive to say the name. "Wait up!"

"Jak!?"

Jak rounded a corner to find the ottsel in another vine smothered hollow in the cliff, tucked far away from the chasm; safe, blessed ground. Jak fell to it, hand still in his pocket, laughing out breath he couldn't catch. Alive. By some stroke of luck, he was alive.

As were the Metal Heads. More than they'd ever seen before prowled to the edge of the ledges above them, eyes sharp with hunger. The chasm by the pipe hadn't stopped the threat. There'd only been even more on the other side.

Jak looked around. Where could they go?

"Over here!" Daxter pointed to a tunnel nearby, covered by mismatched planks.

Jak didn't wonder where it went, just hoped that it went somewhere other than here. They dove inside, the gap under the planks not much larger than Jak's torso as he slid in on his stomach. Metal Heads clawed the dirt below the planks in anger, barely missing him.

To his horror, it was not a tunnel. They'd just trapped themselves in a small hollow between their death and a solid rock wall. Jak and Daxter crawled to the farthest corner and stared with eyes wide at the entrance, watching beast after beast fling themselves against the planks.

"We're not gonna make it out of here, are we?" Daxter asked.

Jak, still gasping for air, shut his eyes tight and blinked back their wetness. Why had he insisted on coming through the tunnels? The Kig had warned them, but had he listened? Now both he and Daxter were going to die and it was all his fault. His bloody hand and his chest felt like they were on fire, to the point that he felt like he was going to hurl.

One of the planks broke free. The Metal Heads started to try to squeeze beneath those remaining.

"I'm sorry," Jak blurted. "I'm so sorry."

"Ya didn't know," Daxter said. "Jak, can I tell you somethin'?"

Jak said nothing, instead staring in horror as another plank started to bend and break.

"I'm not really an ottsel. I mean, I know ya might have been able to tell that, given that I can talk and all. But it's more than that. Before all this, I was-"

The head of the pack slipped through, flying at Daxter in a drooling rage. Jak put himself between them. Teeth needled into his arm. Every vein in his body turned hot as lava.

And then the savage darkness began.

Daxter watched as Jak turned into something inhuman. There he was, a Metal Head clamped onto his bicep, letting his arm back down as if nothing were happening at all while the monster continued to chew his flesh. His pupils constricted into pinpoints. All the arteries radiating from his heart, down his arms, and up his neck ran black, while his skin turned paler. Then, taking his bloody hand, he reached for the Metal Head, slid his fingers around its throat, and clamped down.

The Metal Head fell limp with a loud crunch. Daxter prepared to watch Jak let it go, but instead he stood up, calm, and flipped to face the tunnel's opening. He flung the dead beast against the planks, breaking them, not flinching as the others streamed in like a river of teeth and claws headed right for him.

Daxter slid his paws over his eyes. All he heard for the next few minutes was the crack of necks and limbs breaking, Metal Heads whining, sword meeting flesh and bodies thumping useless to the ground. By the time Daxter managed to lower his paws, there was only one Metal Head left. Daxter regretted not looking away again as Jak grabbed it by the muzzle and broke its face with a single, wet clench.

There was a long silence as Daxter waited, watching to see what this monster – no longer a soft-spoken, calm young man – would do. Jak stared at the opening for a long while, unmoving, the dead Metal Head still in hand. Metal shards, skin, and dark blood glistened between his tense fingers.

"Bigfoot?"

Jak jerked his head towards Daxter. The young man dropped the Metal Head, then loomed near, his shadow swallowing Daxter whole. Daxter tried to scramble away, but fingers caught the scruff of his neck. Daxter dangled in the air, about ready to piss himself, covering his face again as Jak lifted him.

"Jak? Easy now. Easy buddy. It's-it's your old pal Daxter, remember?"

Daxter had never seen eyes so empty and cold. He'd thought the Metal Heads would get him, not Jak. At least it would be quick-

Air stirred his fur as the hand guided him elsewhere; Jak's left shoulder. Daxter dug in his claws as Jak started to walk, unfazed by all the Metal Head bodies Jak was stepping over as he drowned in glad shock.

"You're… not gonna kill me?"

Jak remained silent, slipping out of the tunnel and back into the light, still possessed by the dark eco. Daxter wondered how Jak didn't even flinch as blood oozed from his wounds; how he kept on walking as his life literally seeped onto the dust beneath them.

After a few minutes of climbing up the cliff, then trudging northwards, they came upon a grotto with a pond just as the land swelled back up into gray mountains and grass, the chasm of Basinbreak behind them.

They'd made it. They'd beaten back a horde of Metal Heads, surmounted one of the most treacherous places in Nadoa, and were walking out alive.

Jak collapsed by the pool.