Jack's rather torn on whether or not he's relieved when forested mountains appear on the horizon. He's been fairly impatient to leave behind this god-forsaken desert and all the demon warriors in it; but now, seeing that what lies ahead offers so much more coverage to potential enemies, there's a newfound patience growing within him with every step he takes towards it.
Fortunately, he still has about three more miles of sand left to walk and weigh the evil scales.
Not that it makes a difference. The evil genius wrapped in the Shroud of Shadows treks all the way up a rather annoyingly steep bump in the desert-land, only to pause the moment he steps on actual soil and stare with flat distrust into the forest before him.
A look left along the ridged tree-line shows nothing else: Just blown about foliage that's unsettling him by the second with all the rustling its got going on.
'Oh yeah… this is definitely bad news…'
He'd have to be a total moron to trust this.
Good thing he's an evil genius, instead, and thus pulling goggles over quite the suspicious pair of red eyes. He cycles through a few visualization options before settling on the one for mysticism. Yet, when he scans what's within range of the tree-line to his left… there's nothing magical to be detected… and still isn't when he does the same to his right, along that end of the rugged tree-line.
And just like that, the scales of injustice have spoken: 'This is way worse…'
But that's too bad, he supposes, because there's nowhere to go but straight ahead. And if the odds are horrible – which they most certainly are – that's what his tip-toe pace is for. Any who would call him a coward would have to contend with the fact that, after a solid five minutes, the forest canopy is indeed above him. His sluggish pace is just to more easily avoid falling over the rugged terrain. More than once, it even prevents him from stepping on a fallen stick, too.
The noise would have echoed for miles, putting whatever-it-is that he still can't see in this damn forest on high alert, and then where would he be?
In the great, wide open fields of Made, that's where.
Followed closely by Six-Feet Under.
'Besides,' thinks the kid moving at the pace of a stick-bug, 'RJ's not even at the rendezvous yet. There's no rush…'
Really, the only problem is that his hands won't stop shaking. Even when he fists them in his trench coat, inside an invention he's no longer feeling so hot about trying out, they still won't stay still. Even worse, right now's definitely not the time to get distracted by numbers in his head.
'It's not much further,' he's soon telling himself, endlessly glad to have it actually be true, 'Just a hundred meters more and I can duck into a bush somewhere.'
By then, however, his paranoia spikes.
'How can there be nothing?' More than twenty minutes it's been since he entered this forest and not a shred of magic have his goggles detected. Even now, a surveying of his surroundings from inside a sizable bush shows nothing but the land itself. 'Not even any jungle cats?'
Bull-crap. Evil bull-crap. Whatever's here is just out of range. That has to be it.
'Either way, I'll know for sure when RJ arrives.'
Which, considering his proximity to the meet, Jack feels quite inclined to wait for.
He'd raise his watch to his lips so he could ask RJ how close it is, but… well. Making sound is the last thing he feels to do while alone and listening for anything odd within a dark, windy forest. Bad enough that when a branch snaps, somewhere off to his right, he checks with such haste that he feels it lucky he didn't achieve whip-lash. There's also a full three-sixty degrees of direction to keep track of, which while impossible to actually do, he still very much does his best at.
All the way until RJ's head suddenly sprouts from the ground a few yards to his left, in the direction he'd originally been heading in.
Smiling with relief, the evil genius exits the bush he's in and approaches RJ as its head does a full three-sixty degree spin.
Nothing seen, Robo-Jack rips its arms up out of the ground, plants its palms flat upon the soil on either side of itself, and pushes with them to sprout its body out of the dirt, before dropping its feet to the ground and standing out of a low crouch.
"Did you see anything?" Jack asks, coming aside his creation.
Optics raising to scan the surrounding mountains next, RJ replies, "Of use? No."
That being said, the robot relays to Jack's goggles all trident-bearing demons that it detects upon the mountain peaks surrounding them.
"Crap," Jack mutters, not at all liking the growing sensation of being boxed in. "How well do you think they can see?"
"Judging by their aim, I imagine well." The destruction of T-Bot's drone over Lake Issyk-Kul took precision, after all.
Jack groans, having thought as much. "Great. Just great." He sighs, though, gaze to the sky as he says, "Alright then: Have T-Bot scan-"
"You're kidding, right?" RJ intercedes.
Squinting, Jack regards RJ coldly. "What?"
"You know what," Robo-Jack states. "We already have a plan, so why are we wasting time on this?"
"Oh I don't know," Jack snarks, "maybe because I'd like to know whether or not T-Bots radar has been a two-way street this whole damn t-"
"Inconsequential," RJ declares, unmoved by the actual's gritting of his teeth, "Whether or not it is bears no impact on what must be done."
"Oh yeah?" the invisible evil genius challenges, "And how would you know that?"
The stupid question inflicts no change to the robot's stoic gaze.
"Forget I said that," Jack mutters. He rolls his eyes up, this time letting out a long-suffering sigh. "Okay so I might be stalling. Forgive me for not looking forward to dying." Not to mention that it'll be for a bunch of freaking losers.
Really, the whole thing just pisses him off the longer he thinks about it. And makes the shake in his hands travel up his limbs.
Nonplussed, RJ merely blinks. "That also doesn't change anything."
"I know," Jack grits out, "I know it doesn't change anything. I'm just…"
"Wasting time." The robot pockets its hands in its trench coat. "We need to move. Now."
"Yeah, well just… give me a moment, okay?"
RJ nods, frowning ahead as the evil genius walks up to a tree and presses his back to it, followed closely by his head. He closes his eyes, hands leaving his trench coat pockets to pull up his goggles so he can palm his eyes.
'Damnit. Damnit. Damnit,' Jack laments, 'Damnit this sucks. We're all walking to our deaths, and it's the only choice we have.' A fact for which he growls and runs his hands up his face, over his goggles, and through his hair. 'What a load of crap. I finally make some goddamn progress on my end, and now I have to die to save the world? As if I owe it a damn thing? What kind of nonsensical BS even is that? I should be high-tailing it back home right now!'
What does he care about who does or doesn't burn? The only person in the entirety of the world to ever give a single crap about him is already dead. There's nothing to fight for here except his own survival.
Only…
A longer, more sullen growl leaves the teen, this time with the addition of him gently bumping the back of his head on the tree, over and over again.
Until at last, he feels a sense of clarity.
'Only that wouldn't work, either. I'm already on Chase's hit-list. He'd find me and kill me either way.'
And…
'At least this way, I go out fighting.'
Too bad the thought is of no comfort. Too bad he still, like all life, doesn't want to die.
Too bad everything is always too bad.
Always, always too bad.
But, 'That's why I'm the evilest, I guess…'
Too bad to live. Too bad to die.
May as well see which half the evil coin lands on…
Right after some back-wards counting settles him down. After his heart-rate calms. After his hands calm.
After he calms, feeling not exactly ready, but nonetheless better than he did. His push off the tree-trunk is forced, as is every step toward the hole RJ emerged from. "Alright, get the Molar-2000 to come up to just-below ground-level so we can drop inside, and then we'll make for the Valley of Somewhere."
RJ nods. "ETA: Twenty minutes."
"Mhmm," Jack murmurs, coming to a stop next to RJ's deep hole in the ground.
He decides to sit down Indian-style as he waits, head in his hands amid a furthered attempt to get over himself.
His watch rumbles, though, earning a ragged sigh before he answers the call.
"Yeah…?"
"Jack, where are you?" Dojo's unhappy voice asks, "It's been well over three hours, now."
"I'm aware."
"… Is everything alright?"
Crud. His lifeless tone needs to go.
"Yup, everything's great Dojo. Hit a bit of a rough patch, but we're back on track, now. Sorry I didn't say anything earlier."
Wait.
What?
He's sorry?
What the ever-living he-!
"O-kay…" Dojo mutters, "Well do you know how much longer you're gonna be?"
"Good question." He turns to RJ. "Robo-Jack, how much longer 'til we're at our desired location within the Valley of Somewhere?"
Optics remaining ahead of itself, the robot replies over the comm-feed, "About another hour."
Groans from the Dragons-in-Training reach Jack over the Guard's audio-feed.
He almost smiles.
Almost.
Not even close…
"Sorry to rain further on your parade" why. does he keep. saying. that word, "but even after we get there, we'll need time to figure out where to setup a base of operations before you guys can come over via the Tunnel Armadillo."
"You've gotta be kidding me," Jack hears Rai say.
"Yeah, I'm just full of jokes, aren't I? Wanna hear me laugh, next? Here it comes, don't miss it, now: …Ha-ha-hee-ha-uh-ha. Good enough for ya, Raimundo? I can try again if n-"
"Alright already, we get it, Jack," Dojo cuts in. "Sorry for expecting you to actually stick to your stated time-frame."
"Sorry I'm afraid of dying," Jack drones out. "Now is there anything else you need, Dojo?"
There's a pause. A momentous silence that Jack readily buries in ignorance.
Then, "No. Just… please be careful, Jack."
"Will do. Bye."
The line goes dead.
Jack rolls his eyes.
"Please," the evil genius huffs, "What are you, Dojo, my grandma?"
Get real, idiot dragon.
When the time comes, he'll be making his own recipes involving dragon meat.
He just doesn't have time for entertaining those evil thoughts right now.
Right now, he needs to come to terms with what's to follow their settling into The Valley of Somewhere. Because while it's best to not get ahead of himself, he doubts they'll have much trouble in making a crude base of operations.
After all, why would Chase send forces out for them when he can just as easily lie in wait, ready to pounce when at last they all show their faces?
'It doesn't matter,' Jack reminds himself.
He closes his eyes. Takes a long, deep breath, before shakily letting go of it.
'We still have to go. We still have to risk it.'
His elbows go atop his knees.
'So it doesn't matter.'
Even if he drops his head back into his hands, silently dreading the passage of time.