Flint continued to dig through the underground tunnels, weaving around twists and turns like a creature perfectly at home beneath the earth. Remy clung tightly to him, his hands gripping Flint's shirt as the Miner burrowed with surprising speed. Dirt and rocks flew behind them, but somehow Flint avoided getting any of it in his mouth, even as he chattered away, talking about rocks, gemstones, and minerals.
"Y'know," Flint said mid-dig, his voice muffled, but clear, "quartz crystals are piezoelectric, which means they can generate a small electric charge when you put pressure on them. They used to be, and people used them in old watches."
Though mildly interested in the trivia, Remy was more concerned about Flint's digging speed and seeming knowledge of where they were headed. Every turn felt purposeful, as though Flint had a mental underground map.
"That's… that's interesting, Flint," Remy replied, his voice shaky as the tunnel curved sharply. He wasn't used to being jostled around like this, and though the trivia was distracting, his mind kept wandering back to Dexter. "But, um, how do you know where we're going? And how are you finding everyone so quickly?"
Flint simply chuckled. "Experience, my friend!" he said proudly, not missing a beat. "I've been digging these tunnels for years. Once you know the layout, it's like riding a hog—easy as pie."
Remy's grip tightened as Flint took a sudden, sharp turn and abruptly slowed. Before he could ask what was happening, Flint popped his head above ground, lifting a flap of dirt as if it were nothing more than a curtain.
They had arrived at a small clearing, where several Hog Riders were gathered, their massive hogs snorting contentedly at their sides. Flint looked around until his eyes settled on a Hog Rider with his trusty hog beside him. The Hog Rider was conversing deeply with another rider, casually discussing tactics. Flint quickly tapped his shovel on the Hog Rider's back, causing the Hog Rider to flinch and spin around.
"Hey, Flint!" The Hog Rider greeted him, quickly recognizing him and kneeling to meet his gaze as his hog did the same. His wide grin turned curious as he noticed Remy clinging to Flint's back. "What are you doing here?"
"Meet me at my place, Ryder," Flint said, pointing toward a small hut in the distance. He gestured toward Remy. "Remy here has some bad news about a friend. We're going to need all the help we can get."
Ryder nodded, his expression growing serious as he mounted his hog. "Got it. I'll tell the others, too." Without another word, Ryder gave a light kick to his hog, and they quickly trotted off toward Flint's house. With that sorted, Flint grinned back at Remy. "Alright, back underground!"
Before Remy could even catch his breath, Flint burrowed into the ground again, his shovel digging swiftly as the earth opened up around them. Remy barely had time to tighten his grip before they were off, moving even faster this time. The sound of Flint's shovel cutting through the dirt mixed with his continued rock facts, though Remy's thoughts were entirely on Dexter. Finally, they reached the front of Flint's small wooden house at the forest's edge. Flint stopped abruptly, pulling himself and Remy out of the tunnel.
"Here we are," Flint chirped, brushing dirt off his overalls. "You can stay here with Ryder and Snickers until I gather the rest of the gang."
Still rattled from the fast dig, Remy slid off Flint's back and stumbled slightly as his legs tried to find steady ground. "O-Okay," he said, nodding gratefully, though his mind was still spinning from the underground ride.
Flint gave him a quick pat on the back. "Don't worry," he said with a wink, "we'll get Dexter back." And with that, he dove back into the hole, leaving behind a small cloud of dirt as he tunneled his way back toward the city. Remy sighed in relief, watching Flint disappear underground with a cloud of dust before turning to face the small hut. His hand hesitated on the door handle for a moment, the anxiety bubbling up inside him again. With a quiet breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
He first noticed the sheer number of gemstones scattered throughout the room. They were everywhere—on the shelves, across the tables, and some dangled from strings in front of the windows. Sunlight filtered through the gems, casting dazzling blue, red, and green rays across the walls, turning the space into a kaleidoscope of colors.
"Pretty cool, isn't it?" Remy flinched, his heart skipping a beat. He turned quickly to see Ryder, the Hog Rider, standing just inside the door, his hog, Snickers, beside him. Ryder grinned, clearly amused by Remy's reaction.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that," Ryder said, his voice casual. "I don't bite." He paused, glancing down at his hog, who gave a small snort. "Well, Snickers might, but only if he's starving."
Snickers let out a soft grunt as if on cue before lying on his front, his large body settling comfortably on the floor. Remy tried to relax, offering a weak smile as he pushed his glasses into place and wiped the remaining dirt off his uniform. "Ah, right," he stammered, his nerves getting the better of him. "I-I'm Remy."
"Pleased to meet you, Remy," Ryder said with a friendly nod. "I'm Ryder, as you know, and this here is Snickers." He gestured toward the hog, who now seemed more interested in napping than anything else.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, too," Remy replied, his voice shaky. He glanced around the room again, trying to focus on anything other than the nervous knot tightening in his stomach. His fingers brushed over his uniform as he sat down in a chair, still brushing dirt from the fabric somewhat distractedly.
Though Ryder's easygoing demeanor helped ease the tension, Remy's mind was far from settled. Time was ticking, and with every second that passed, he could only think of Dexter—alone and in the clutches of the Titan. The worry gnawed at him, making it hard to concentrate on anything else. Sensing Remy's unease, Ryder leaned against the doorframe with a slight frown. "You alright? You look a bit on edge."
Remy swallowed hard, forcing himself to answer. "It's just… I'm really worried about Dexter." His voice was low, but the fear was unmistakable. "We don't have much time. I need to help him before it's too late."
The room fell silent for a moment, save for the faint snoring of Snickers. Ryder's expression shifted from casual to serious as he nodded in understanding. "Don't worry, mate. We're going to get him back. Flint wouldn't have sent for all of us if it wasn't serious. You've got my word—Snickers and I will help however we can."
Despite Ryder's reassuring words, Remy's heart remained heavy. The clock was ticking, and every minute they spent talking felt wasted. He couldn't shake the feeling that Dexter was running out of time, and the weight of that thought was beginning to overwhelm him.
"Thanks," Remy mumbled, though his worry didn't subside. He fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, his mind racing as he tried to devise a plan. He glanced out the window, the colorful light from the gemstones casting shadows across the floor, but it did nothing to brighten the storm of anxiety swirling inside him. Dexter needed him, and they couldn't afford to wait much longer.
Flint tunneled through the ground at breakneck speed, the earth parting easily beneath his trusty shovel. He navigated the complex network of tunnels—some his own, others dug by fellow Miners—with the ease of someone who had spent years underground. The air was cool and damp as he zipped through, popping his head up occasionally to get his bearings. Finally, he reached his destination.
Flint emerged from the earth with a soft thud, halfway up to his waist, blinking at the scene before him. Not far away, a Healer with soft, flowing robes and golden wings hovered near a massive, dying bush. She was concentrating, her hands glowing as she used her magic to restore the plant's dead leaves, which slowly began to turn green again. Flint's eyes lit up. "Hey! Elara!"
The Healer, Elara, turned at the sound of her name, her wings fluttering slightly in surprise. When she saw Flint's familiar face poking out of the ground, she beamed and flew down toward him, her wings creating a gentle breeze as she hovered nearby.
"Flint!" she chirped, her voice full of excitement. Without warning, she swooped in and wrapped her arms around his neck in a quick hug. Flint chuckled at the greeting, though he was still half-stuck in the ground. "Hey there!" he said, patting her back awkwardly before she released him.
"What brings you out here?" Elara asked, her golden eyes bright with curiosity as she hovered just above the ground, her wings fluttering lazily in the breeze.
Flint, always full of energy, perked up. "It's about one of my new friends! His name's Remy, and he's a Medic. But his friend Dexter is in trouble!" He reached into his backpack, pulled out his notepad, and flipped through the pages, slightly panicked. "Hold on…" he muttered, his eyes scanning the crossed-out notes on the paper. "Where's the part where I wrote this down?"
Elara waited patiently, her head tilted as Flint rummaged through his notes.
"Damn it!" Flint muttered under his breath. "I forgot what I was doing again…" He turned another page, then suddenly perked up when he spotted the fresh note. "Oh, yeah!" He grinned sheepishly at Elara. "Tell your friends about Remy's friend Dexter and get them to meet you at your house," he read aloud, nodding to himself.
Elara smiled, amused by Flint's antics but also sensing the seriousness behind his words. "That sounds important! I'll be there. Where's your house again?"
"It's the one with all the gemstones in front of the windows," Flint said, nodding as he pointed toward his home. Just then, another Healer appeared, dressed in heavier armor and with a more serious expression—Lyra, a Battle Healer who had been focused on her work nearby. She glanced between Flint and Elara. Her brow furrowed in confusion.
"Elara? Who are you talking to?" Lyra asked, her voice calm but questioning.
"It's Flint!" Elara chirped, fluttering her wings excitedly. "He's telling me about Remy's friend Dexter. We need to help them! Come on, you'll love Flint's gemstone collection!"
Before Lyra could respond, Elara was already soaring off toward Flint's house, her wings shimmering in the sunlight.
"Wait, Elara—" Lyra began, but her friend was already halfway across the clearing. She shook her head, a small smile pulling at her lips, then turned toward Flint. "I suppose we're all meeting at your place?"
Flint nodded, giving her a thumbs-up as he prepared to dive back into the ground. "Yep! See you there!" And with that, he disappeared into the tunnel again, digging with renewed energy as he made his way to the next stop on his list.
Flint dug through the earth at his usual speed, occasionally taking detours through other Miners' tunnels. But as he moved, a rumble caught his attention. Flint stopped, his shovel freezing mid-motion as the ground trembled beneath him. The Mighty Miner was moving nearby, and Flint had to make another quick detour to avoid crossing paths with him. He took a sharp turn, then another, before finally popping his head out of the ground to see where he'd ended up.
Suddenly, a massive spiked club was thrust toward his face, stopping just inches from his forehead. Flint's heart leaped into his throat, and he yelped, lifting his shovel in defense, ready to strike. But he immediately froze again when he realized who stood before him.
A gigantic Dark Prince, clad in black armor and mounted on a towering black steed, was staring him down. His expression was unreadable under the dark visor, but his imposing presence was enough to send all of Flint's hairs on end. Before anything could escalate, a voice rang out, "Wait, wait!"
A hand reached out and grabbed the Dark Prince's wrist, halting the swing of the spiked club. Flint's eyes darted to the source of the voice, and he saw a Prince standing beside the Dark Prince, his grip firm but calm.
"Draven, don't hit him," the Prince said, his tone easy yet commanding. The Dark Prince—Draven—paused, considering the situation before emitting a deep "Hmm" and lowering his club. Draven sheathed the weapon, and the Prince nodded in thanks. "Good. He's just lost."
"Uh, thanks…" Flint exhaled, his grip on the shovel relaxing. "I didn't mean to scare him."
The Prince chuckled, glancing back at Draven. "Scare him? Draven? The only thing that startles him is when someone sneaks up on him. Other than that, nothing phases him." He turned his attention back to Flint, kneeling with confidence and warmth. "Now, what brings a young Miner like you to our training grounds?"
Flint blinked in surprise. "Wait… I'm in the training grounds?" He glanced around and, sure enough, saw soldiers sparring nearby. How did I end up here?
The Prince raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer, and Flint quickly remembered his mission. "I'm Flint. I'm looking for my friends. A new friend of mine, Remy, has a friend named Dexter who's in trouble."
"Trouble?" The Prince's expression shifted to one of concern. Even Draven's eyes seemed to widen slightly beneath his visor. "What happened to him?"
Flint swallowed, his urgency returning. "He's been captured by a Titan, and I'm gathering people to help rescue him for Remy—"
Before Flint could finish, Draven suddenly reached down and grabbed Flint around the midsection, lifting him out of the hole with ease. Flint yelped, startled by the sudden action. "Uh, wh-what is he doing?!" he stammered, his shovel clattering to the ground.
The Prince laughed, standing tall again as he picked up Flint's shovel from the ground where it dropped. "Looks like Draven's decided to help you gather your friends. When he takes action, he doesn't waste time." He smiled and nodded in agreement. "And if Draven's in, I'm in, too. We'll help with this rescue."
The Prince turned on his heel and blew a sharp whistle echoing across the training grounds. Two horses emerged from the stalls, one sleek and white, the other large and black, trotting toward them. The white horse stopped beside the Prince while the larger one approached Draven. Draven, still holding Flint as if he weighed nothing, placed him on the front of the saddle, right near the horse's neck, before mounting behind him.
"You'll be riding with Draven," the Prince called up to Flint, his tone amused but reassuring. "Don't worry—he won't let you fall."
Draven's large hand settled on Flint's side to steady him while his other hand gripped the reins. Though still shaken, Flint tried to get comfortable as he leaned against Draven's solid frame. The Prince swung up onto his white horse with practiced ease. "How rude of me not to introduce myself earlier. I'm Prince Cedric." He gave a courteous nod. "Pleasure to meet you, Flint."
"Nice to meet you too," Flint replied with a slightly nervous smile. He wasn't used to this grand company, but Cedric's warmth helped him relax. Draven's steady grip ensured Flint stayed safely in place as they began trotting forward, even as the horse's powerful movements bounced them slightly. Flint shifted in the saddle, still adjusting to the unfamiliar ride.
"You're safe," Cedric said, noticing Flint's discomfort. "Draven will keep you from falling, and I'm right here. We'll find your friends, and we'll rescue Dexter. You have our word."
Flint nodded, feeling a little more confident. He wasn't alone in this—Draven and Cedric were both on board and with their help, this rescue mission started to feel more possible. Prince Cedric led them confidently through the training grounds as the group continued to trot forward.
The sound of hooves thudding against the dirt became louder as they approached where the Ram Riders practiced, their rams barreling through the course with ease and precision. Cedric sat tall in his saddle and spoke, calling towards the practicing Ram Riders, "Excuse me, ladies? May I get your attention?"
The Ram Riders seemed focused on their training, too absorbed in the drills to pay him any mind. Their rams charged forward, kicking up dust as they sped through the course, showing no signs of stopping—except one who noticed the group—and, more specifically, a familiar face.
Her eyes locked onto Flint, who sat sheepishly in Draven's saddle, and her expression softened into a smirk. She trotted over, her ram snorting as they stopped before the group. "Flint? What are you doing riding with them?" she asked, leaning casually against her ram's giant head, raising an eyebrow.
Before Flint could answer, Prince Cedric confidently said, "Your friend Flint has tasked us with gathering good people for a rescue mission. Remy's friend, Dexter, has been captured by a Titan."
Flint blushed slightly under her gaze but nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I've made a new friend," he mumbled, glancing at Prince Cedric. "But it's true—Remy's friend, Dexter, is in trouble, and we're trying to save him."
The Ram Rider eyed Flint thoughtfully for a moment, her eyebrow arching higher as she leaned closer. "Let me guess," she said, her voice tinged with amusement. "My brother Ryder and his hog Snickers are already involved in this, aren't they?"
"Yes, they are," Flint confirmed, nodding eagerly. She sighed, her lips curling into a wry smile as she shook her head. "Of course they are. And let me guess again—if I refuse, Ryder and Snickers will just follow you all and find themselves in some sort of trouble, won't they?"
Flint blinked, a little confused by the implication, but nodded again. "Uh, yes?" His voice rose with uncertainty.
The Ram Rider chuckled, her amusement clear as she patted the ram's head. "Sounds about right. Ryder can't help but get into trouble, especially when it involves a big adventure." She paused before nodding, her decision made. "Alright, I'll join—mostly to keep Ryder and Snickers out of whatever mess they're bound to stumble into."
"That's great!" Flint beamed, his nervousness lifting slightly as the group began moving again, with the Ram Rider falling into step beside them.
As they exited the training grounds, Prince Cedric turned his head, glancing at the Ram Rider with a warm smile. "And what should we call you, Ram Rider?"
"I'm Rhea," she said easily, patting her ram's sturdy head again. "And this here is Atlas."
"A pleasure to meet you, Rhea," Cedric replied, his smile widening. "I'm Prince Cedric and my good friend Draven. We appreciate you joining us. The more good people we have, the better our chances of success."
Rhea smirked, clearly amused by his royal demeanor but respectful nonetheless. "Don't worry, Prince Cedric. I've got your back—as long as we don't run into cliff faces. Atlas isn't the best with heights."
Flint chuckled nervously, still adjusting to the presence of so many capable warriors around him, but he felt a flicker of hope. With each new ally, the plan to rescue Dexter seemed more achievable. As they made their way toward Flint's house, the group moved steadily, the rhythm of hoofbeats and the murmur of conversation filling the air. Though still a little nervous from all the attention, Flint started feeling more confident with each new ally by his side. He glanced up at Draven, whose steady presence was oddly reassuring, and then over to Rhea, chatting with Prince Cedric about their next steps.
The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting long shadows across the path ahead. Everything seemed calm like the forest had settled into a peaceful rhythm alongside them. But unnoticed by the group, a figure stood quietly just beyond the trail. Hidden behind the thick trunk of an old tree, a Rifleman peered out from the shadows. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the group pass by, suspicion flickering across his face. His stance was relaxed, yet something about how he observed them suggested more than idle curiosity.
He didn't move or make a sound—just watched, his gaze lingering on each party member as if assessing what they were up to. When they finally moved out of sight, the Rifleman pulled back behind the tree, disappearing into the shadows without a trace. Neither Flint nor the others noticed him.
Remy sat nervously on the edge of his seat, fidgeting with his hands as thoughts of Dexter swirled in his mind. Time felt like it was slipping through his fingers, and his anxiety only grew stronger with each passing minute. A sudden knock on the door made him jump, startling everyone in the room.
"Uh, Remy, Ryder, and Snickers?" Flint called from outside. "You three might want to come out here. Talking inside is gonna be… cramped."
"'Cramped?'" Ryder repeated, confused, as he gently shook Snickers awake. The hog grunted and stretched before following Ryder toward the door. "What do you mean 'cramped?'"
His question trailed off the moment they stepped outside. Remy's eyes widened as he saw dozens of people waiting outside. There was a Rifleman, a Flamer, a Giant, a Cryo-Sniper, a Sniper, a Zooka, a Shotgunner, and even more than he could count. Ryder whistled low, clearly impressed. Remy, however, felt a sudden surge of nervousness.
"That's… a lot of people, Flint," he stammered, his voice barely audible.
Flint beamed with pride. "Of course! The more, the merrier!" Before Remy could react, a confident voice chimed in.
"And the better the chances of rescuing Dexter by overwhelming the Titan!" said a confident Prince, riding tall on his horse.
The group nodded in agreement, but Remy still felt anxious as all eyes seemed to fall on him. His palms grew clammy, and his throat tightened. So many people… He swallowed hard and stepped forward, although his feet felt like lead.
"Uh… okay, er… Dexter, he… ah…" Remy blushed deeply, embarrassed by how much he was stumbling over his words. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, making him more flustered.
A warm, gentle hand touched his shoulder. Remy looked over to see a Flamer, her kind eyes filled with understanding. "It's alright, honey," she said softly. "Take your time. Just tell us what happened."
Comforted by her tone, Remy took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. With renewed determination, he faced the group. All eyes were still on him, but he pushed through the nervousness this time and began to speak. He explained everything from the moment he woke up and heard the sounds of the Titan near their new camp.
He spoke of hiding in the bushes, watching in fear as the Titan wandered around. He had hoped she would leave, but instead, she discovered Dexter, who had fallen asleep in the worst possible place at the worst possible time. Remy watched helplessly as the Titan grabbed his friend and carried him away.
"And that's… what happened," Remy finished quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. His arms wrapped around himself as the worry began to overwhelm him again. "Do you think Dexter will be okay?" he muttered, his voice shaky. "I… I'm scared something bad might've already happened to him."
A Jetpacker stepped forward, giving Remy a reassuring smile. "Hey, Remy, right? Don't worry, mate. We'll get Dexter back safe and sound. We just need to figure out where she's taken him."
"Duh!" Flint chimed in with a grin. "You've got a jetpack! You can fly up and scout it out!"
The Jetpacker chuckled, giving a mock salute. "Good point. Alright, everyone, stand back."
The group took a few steps back as the Jetpacker activated his jetpack, the thrusters roaring to life. He launched into the sky, soaring high above the treetops. As he hovered midair, he scanned the area, turning slowly as his eyes roamed the landscape. Then something caught his attention.
"Well, what do we have here…" he mumbled to himself. In the distance, he saw a massive mansion—far larger than anything else. And approaching it was none other than the Titan, her long white hair shimmering in the sunlight as she walked around the mansion, checking or searching for something. The Jetpacker nodded, turning sharply in the air before making his descent. He landed with a slight wince but steadied himself as the group gathered around him.
"I found her," he announced. "She's heading toward a giant mansion—probably her home. She hasn't gone inside yet, so we still have time."
Remy's anxiety spiked again. "But how are we supposed to get there in time?" he exclaimed. "We're too small compared to her. She could be inside her mansion when we even get close!"
Flint grinned, already holding his shovel proudly. "Not if I dig us there! I once dug a hole big enough for a Giant—so this will be easy!"
Without waiting for anyone's approval, Flint dropped to the ground and started digging, his shovel moving at an impressive speed. Dirt flew everywhere as he dug a massive tunnel, wide enough for the Giant to follow them through. The rest of the group watched on in awe before, one by one, they hopped into the freshly dug hole. The Giant, towering above the rest of them, followed closely behind as they ventured underground.
But a figure emerged behind the trees as the last group disappeared into the tunnel. The Rifleman, who had been watching Flint earlier, approached the hole, his eyes narrowing as he pieced together what he had overheard. He glanced down into the darkness of the tunnel, his expression unreadable. Then, without hesitation, he stepped back, gathered himself, and leaped into the hole, following the others; his mind focused on catching up with the group.