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() Author side note
'Someone Thinking'
Chapter 6.5 Interlude 3: Meteoric Repercussions.
BGM: Argentum day theme:
"So, Malos... Think you could fill us in on why we're takin' the time to stop 'ere at the guild... again?" Nia's voice broke the silence as she crossed her arms, frustration clear in her tone. "Didn't you and Jin sort out the details, like last week?"
Malos arched an eyebrow, unimpressed at his companion's irritation. "Did Akhos not inform either of you?"
"No one's told us bloody anythin'. All I know is what you told me," Nia retorted, her tone edged with annoyance.
'And it wasn't even all that much either,' she added bitterly in thought, recalling their brief conversation from the previous night.
In her memory:
Nia and her blade partner, Dromarch—a snow-white tiger adorned with various pieces of metal armor with a bright cyan crystal in the shape of a claw on his chest—were engaged in a sparring session in the training room. Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing an irate Malos.
"Nia! I want you and Dromarch to have your shit ready by seven tomorrow morning!" he demanded before swiftly exiting the room, leaving both Nia and Dromarch bewildered.
Back in the present, Malos sighed and massaged his temples before explaining, "Yesterday, several giant pieces of debris were detected by the Monoceros's scanners and collided with our target. Causing it to sink further into the Cloud Sea, delaying our plans by another two weeks."
"That's quite concerning, Master Malos. If such an event has had such a significant impact on us, I can only imagine how the rest of Alrest is coping with the situation," Dromarch remarked solemnly.
"Bloody hell," Nia muttered and then frowned, "We haven't even started yet and already havin' setbacks?"
"And that, my furry friends, is precisely why I brought you two here with me," Malos stated, his tone resolute. "While I discuss our new... arrangements with the chairman, you two will gather information on what the hell is going on out there."
"You wot!, Why do I 'ave to do that?" Nia complained, "Couldn't you 'ave just asked any of the other blokes to do it instead?"
Before Malos could retort, Dromarch beat him to it, "My lady, please, I ask you to not give Master Malos such an attitude for this opportunity," He then raised an eyebrow at her as he continued. "Was it not you who has been nagging for nearly two months to him about wanting to help them out on the field instead of remaining inside the Monoceros?"
"Exactly right Dromarch," Malos replied while looking down at Nia, smiling condescendingly. "Think of this as your chance to prove yourself. Do well on this recon mission, and maybe you'll get more action outside the ship."
Nia rolled her eyes but couldn't argue. Crossing her arms, she looked up at him defiantly. "Alright then, Malos. What exactly are we supposed to be lookin' for?"
"Dunno," Malos says with a shrug, smile turning into a wry smirk, "Ask around I guess." His nonchalant response causes Nia to splutter with indignation and Dromarch to blink in confusion. Malos laughs at the duo's reaction while walking away.
Completely irate at his antics, "Oi! Get back here!" she shouted as Nia sprinted and stopped in front of him, nearly tripping herself, and blocked his path by throwing out both arms. "The 'ell you mean you don't know?! That doesn't give me anything to work with!"
"That's why it's called recon dumbass," Malos retorts while shaking his head as his amusement fades, "To tell you the truth we're just as in the dark as you are."
This revelation extinguished Nia's anger instantly. She then dropped her arms and facepalmed, emitting a groan of exasperation. "Why couldn't 'ave you just said that to begin with?"
Malos shrugged, his expression bored. "Because it's more fun watching you get riled up." He pushed past Nia, ignoring her death glare as he headed towards the guild hall. "Now go on, get to work. I'll be seeing the chairman to discuss our new plans."
"And remember, do well, and you can do more stuff with us in the future," were his parting words.
Nia stood there, fists clenched in frustration as she watched Malos disappear into the market stalls, her sharp amber eyes narrowing at the back of his head. She sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of her nose as Dromarch sat beside her, his calm presence an anchor against her rising irritation.
"'Dunno,' he says," she muttered under her breath, mocking Malos's dismissive tone. "Bloody waste of time if you ask me."
"My lady," Dromarch gently interjected, his voice calm and measured, "perhaps we should make the best of this situation. There's bound to be someone around here who knows more than we do."
Nia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Aye, you're probably right. Though that doesn't mean I gotta like it."
Dromarch offered a low, rumbling chuckle. "Perhaps not, but it will certainly get us one step closer to completing our first recon mission."
Nia let out a grunt and began walking in a random direction, her frustration still simmering beneath the surface. Dromarch tilted his head at her retreating form before falling in step beside her, his massive paws padding quietly on the stone pathway.
As they wandered through the market, Nia couldn't shake the feeling that something was... off. The bustling crowds she was used to seeing had thinned to a trickle. Normally, she and Dromarch would have been elbowing their way through a sea of shoppers, the air thick with chatter and the cries of merchants haggling over the price of trinkets and goods. But now, the market felt eerily subdued.
She slowed her pace, her sharp amber eyes scanning the area. The few people walking about seemed to have no interest in shopping. They weren't perusing stalls or eyeing the usual wares that glittered under the banners of the merchants. Instead, they moved with purpose, faces drawn tight with concern. Most of them wore uniforms—either guards or workers from the guild—hurrying to and fro as if something weighed heavily on their minds.
The stalls themselves were a sad sight. Many were shuttered, the vibrant awnings pulled down, leaving empty spaces where there was usually a cacophony of color and sound. The merchants who remained had worry etched into their faces, their eyes darting around nervously as if expecting something worse to come.
Even more concerning was the absence of salvagers and sailors. Usually, you couldn't take more than a few steps without tripping over one of them boasting about their latest haul or preparing for their next venture into the Cloud Sea. Or drunk telling weird and bad stories while laughing merrily. Today, however, she only saw two, both of them looking young and inexperienced, their gear still shiny and untouched by the salt and wind of the sea.
Nia's frown deepened as she took all this in. It wasn't just quiet—it felt like the calm before a storm, and the thought sent an uneasy chill crawling up her spine.
"Hey, Dromarch, where is everybody?" she asked, her voice low with suspicion.
"I am uncertain, my lady, though I've noticed a pattern," Dromarch replied, his deep voice calm, yet thoughtful.
Nia shot him a questioning glance, and he continued, "While you and Master Malos were speaking earlier, I observed several people casting their gazes upwards, as if expecting something. What it is, I do not know."
Dromarch gestured with a large paw, drawing Nia's attention to a nearby elderly couple standing by a closed stall. The couple weren't shopping. Instead, their heads were tilted toward the horizon, expressions tense, lips pressed thin in worry.
"See there?" Dromarch said softly, "They're looking northwest—toward the Mor Ardain Titan. At this time of year, that's where it would be. I suspect whatever's troubling them may have something to do with that."
Nia crossed her arms, eyes narrowing as she followed their line of sight. The Mor Ardain Titan? What could possibly have gone wrong there? She could feel the unease thickening in the air, and it set her nerves on edge. The sinking feeling in her gut told her this recon job might be more important than she'd first thought.
Now more determined to uncover what was going on, Nia scanned the area once again. Her sharp eyes fell on a small group of people gathered around one of the few open stalls. They seemed to be whispering to each other, glancing nervously over their shoulders. "I think it might be a good idea if we split up," she said decisively.
Dromarch raised an eyebrow, his feline face adopting a skeptical expression. "Are you certain, my lady?"
Nia smirked, crossing her arms. "What, you worrying about me now? I'll be fine. Besides, we can cover more ground this way."
"It's not you I'm concerned about," Dromarch replied smoothly, a hint of amusement in his voice. His eyes glinted with the same dry wit that often matched Nia's own.
Nia rolled her eyes but couldn't help the slight smile tugging at her lips. "Oh, shut it, furball. I can handle a little chat with some locals."
"Of course, my lady," Dromarch said with a small bow of his head, though the twinkle in his eyes remained. "I shall reconvene with you shortly."
Nia huffed and set off toward the small group by the stall, determination in her stride. She'd get to the bottom of this, even if it took all day. As she approached, the scattered conversations were hushed. She noticed the apprehensive glances thrown her way, but she didn't care—she was used to being intimidating when she wanted answers.
"Oi, you lot," Nia called out, crossing her arms as she neared the group. "What's got everyone so on edge?"
The group exchanged nervous looks before one of them, a middle-aged man, cleared his throat. "Uh, sorry, miss. We're not too sure ourselves. Something about strange debris... but we don't know much else."
Nia frowned. "Debris? From what?"
The man shrugged helplessly. "Nobody knows. They just say it's causing trouble near Mor Ardain, but we've heard no details."
"Right," Nia muttered, her frustration bubbling. She turned away, muttering under her breath, "Fat lot of good that does."
She moved from one group to the next, asking the same question in different ways, but all she got were shrugs, vague guesses, and speculation. The more she asked, the more her irritation mounted.
Meanwhile, as Nia stalked past another empty stall, she spotted Dromarch returning from the opposite direction, his posture calm and composed.
"Any luck, Dromarch?" she asked, trying to keep the bite out of her voice.
Dromarch gave a slight nod. "Indeed, my lady. It seems many of the salvagers and sailors have been called to assist Mor Ardain with the aftermath of the meteor shower. The Maelstrom has already set sail, and most of the local workforce has gone with it to provide aid."
Nia blinked, her brow furrowing. "How the bloody hell did you get all that while I've been getting nothing but blanks?"
Dromarch's whiskers twitched in amusement. "It appears I have a knack for finding willing informants."
She groaned, rubbing her temples. "Of course you do."
Nia shot Dromarch a sidelong glance, catching the amused glint in his eyes, which only fueled her irritation further. His calm, almost patronizing amusement was the last thing she needed right now.
"You know what, Dromarch," she said, voice tight, "you stay here. I'll be looking around for more." She crossed her arms defiantly. "This is a joint mission after all, and I can't have you doing all the work."
Before Dromarch could respond, Nia spun on her heel and strode away, leaving her Blade behind. She could feel his eyes on her, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of looking back. Not this time.
Dromarch watched her retreating form, his eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. "As you wish, my lady," he rumbled softly, though he made no move to follow.
Nia pressed on, determined to find someone—anyone—who could give her a proper answer. But with every person she approached, her patience frayed further. The responses were all the same: vague, unhelpful, or pure speculation. She even resorted to asking a few kids darting through the marketplace, but that, too, led nowhere.
Her fists clenched at her sides as she walked, jaw tight with irritation. Each new conversation felt like a dead end, a loop of frustratingly useless information. No matter who she spoke to, it was the same tired answers, as though they all shared the same scripted response.
The longer this went on, the more Nia's frustration morphed into indignation. What was the point of this mission if she couldn't even get proper intel? She could feel her temper simmering beneath the surface, and it was taking every ounce of self-control not to lash out at the next person who wasted her time.
He stood toward the edge of his ship, unconsciously gripping the handrails as he looked up at the mid-day sky. The memory of the meteor shower the night before still lingered in his mind. That wasn't an ordinary meteor shower. They had fallen fast and low, and while Gramps had assured him that the World Tree was sturdy enough, Rex couldn't shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at his gut.
"Still can't stop thinking about last night, my boy?" Gramps rumbled.
Rex let out a sigh, stepping back from the edge and moving to finish tying up the last few straps securing the crane equipment. "Yeah, Gramps. It just... didn't feel right. Like, how often do you see something like that happen so close to the World Tree?"
"Not very often, I'd imagine," the old voice huffed in response. "But since we're about to arrive at the guild, perhaps you could ask around," Gramps added as his gaze shifted to the looming balloon titan ahead.
However, as they drew closer, Azurda's expression darkened. His sharp eyes took in the scene, noticing the absence of several ships that were usually docked and how the once-bustling guild now seemed dimmer, quieter. More than the visuals, though, there was a palpable tension in the air. He couldn't place it exactly, but something was clearly wrong.
"I suspect you'll find out soon enough what's got everyone so on edge," he mused, his voice low and thoughtful.
Rex, still tying off the straps, glanced over his shoulder at Gramps as the titan's tone shifted. "You think something's up?" he asked, finishing the last knot and standing up.
Gramps nodded slowly, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon as they floated closer to the Argentum Trade Guild. "There's a certain... unease about the place. It's subtle but undeniable. Look there, Rex," he gestured toward the harbor with his massive horned head. "Fewer ships than usual, and the glow of the lamps—dimmer than I remember. The guild is rarely this quiet."
Rex followed Gramps's gaze and furrowed his brow. Now that he was paying attention, the whole area seemed unusually subdued, lacking its usual liveliness. The bustling merchants, sailors, and salvagers that normally filled the space were nowhere to be seen. Instead, there were only a few scattered figures, and even they moved with a sense of caution.
"Yeah... it doesn't feel right," Rex admitted, his voice thoughtful as he took in the scene. "Guess I'll need to do more than just resupply."
Gramps gave a low hum of agreement. "Indeed. I sense you'll uncover what's troubling the people here. And remember, the meteor shower may have spurred more than just curiosity."
As they pulled in, Rex hopped off of Gramp's back, landing lightly on the dock. "Guess I'll go ask around, and see what I can find out." He straightened, adjusting his salvager suit so he could breathe more easily.
However before he could even take three steps, he was approached by a familiar face. "Well if it isn't Rex, surprised to see you'd still be pulling into port instead of seeing your village and Aunt after what's happened the other night."
"What do you mean what happened Hirkham?" Rex asked, concern framing his face.
The man known as Hirkham sighed, "Well I'm not sure about all the details, but did you hear or see that meteor shower last night?"
"Yeah, I saw it. I think some of it might have hit the World Tree too." Rex answered.
"Oh shite, that's bad." The man grumbled as he rubbed his chin before continuing, "Anyway, from what I've heard, that meteor shower has hit several places. Chunks of it have landed in the Forbidden Zone and even near Gormott. Folks are on edge, what with some ships getting caught in the chaos."
Rex blinked, taking a step back. "The Forbidden Zone? Near Gormott? That's... worse than I thought."
"Sigh* that's not even the worst part. One giant piece landed in the waters near Mor Ardain and caused a Tsunami." Hirkham continued.
Rex felt a sinking sensation in his chest as he processed Hirkham's words. "A tsunami? Near Mor Ardain?" His mind raced, jumping between thoughts of the meteor shower and the potential danger it had brought.
"Aye," Hirkham continued, his tone grim. "Word is it hit pretty hard—flooded parts of the Titan's lower levels. Some ships got caught in it, and a lot of the crew didn't make it. The Maelstrom's been mobilized to help with the relief efforts, that's why you don't see as many folks around. Most of the salvagers, doctors, and hell anyone with first aid knowledge have gone off to help."
Rex swallowed hard, anxiety gnawing at him. "That sounds... terrible. Is Gormott okay? And—what about Fonsett? Was it hit by the wave?"
Hirkham frowned, clearly unsure. "Haven't heard anything about Fonsett, but Gormott should be alright, at least for now. I reckon Mor Ardain got the brunt of it. Still, some of the debris is said to be causing trouble in the Cloud Sea. You might want to check on your people soon, just to be safe."
Rex felt his heart pounding. The meteor shower had been bad enough, but the idea that his home—or anywhere else he cared about—could be in danger made his skin prickle with worry.
"Thanks, Hirkham," Rex said, nodding slowly. "I'll head back as soon as I can. But first, I need to drop off what I've salvaged and negotiate the pay and resupply. Along the way, I'll see if I can find out more."
The older man gave Rex a pat on the shoulder. "You've got a good heart, lad. Just don't get caught up in any trouble. There's still a lot we don't know."
"I'll be careful," Rex assured him, though his mind was already spinning with questions. However, before he could begin walking, a hand was put on his shoulder.
"Sorry Rex, Still have to pay the fee," Hirkham said with a sad smile.
Rex blinked in surprise, his focus snapping back to reality as Hirkham's hand rested on his shoulder. For a moment, he had nearly forgotten the routine of being a salvager.
"Ah... right, the fee," Rex muttered, a sheepish smile creeping onto his face.
Hirkham chuckled softly. "I get it, lad. With everything going on, it's easy to let it slip your mind. But rules are rules, even now."
Rex reached into his salvager suit, fishing out a small pouch of coins. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Can't get by without it, after all."
Handing over the fee, Rex couldn't help but let his thoughts drift back to what Hirkham had just told him. The meteor shower, the debris hitting the Cloud Sea, and the tsunami—everything seemed to be going wrong all at once.
As Hirkham took the payment and gave a nod of approval, Rex offered a quick "Thanks" and started to turn away. But Hirkham stopped him one more time.
"Keep your head up, Rex," Hirkham said, his tone soft but steady. "There's a lot going on, but we've all got to look out for each other. Don't hesitate to ask for help if you need it."
Rex met his gaze and nodded. "I will, thanks again, Hirkham."
After parting ways with Gramps and Hirkham, Rex made his way through the guild's market plaza, moving swiftly yet purposefully. The weight of Hirkham's words hung over him like a storm cloud. The damage from the meteor shower had affected more than just Mor Ardain, Gormott, and maybe his home—it had cast a shadow over the entire Argentum Guild.
As he walked, the contrast from his usual visits to the plaza was unsettling. Normally, the place would be packed with people bustling about, bartering, and shopping for the best deals, the noise and energy making it hard to navigate through the crowd. But now, it was eerily quiet.
Fewer people walked the market stalls, and many of the Nopon—typically known for their shrewd business sense—were notably absent. The few who remained were either packing up to leave or nervously trying to hawk their wares.
He managed to gather a few cylinders, some oxygen tanks, and enough rations for the next couple of dives, though finding everything was incredibly difficult to get with so many of the places he usually visited were closed down.
Rex frowned as he passed several closed stalls, their usual colorful displays now replaced with shuttered windows and signs hastily scrawled with 'Closed.' The market, once teeming with life, felt almost desolate, and even gathering basic supplies was more difficult than it should have been.
After some effort, he managed to collect a few cylinders, oxygen tanks, and just enough rations for the next couple of dives. Still, his usual spots were closed, and he had to rely on what few merchants remained.
With the last of his salvaging equipment secured, Rex turned to leave the plaza—only to spot something unusual. Across the way, a young woman was pacing furiously. She was a Gormotti girl with striking neck-length silver hair, styled into a sharp bob cut that framed her face, with matching feline ears perched on top of her head, twitching every so often in agitation. Her amber eyes burned with frustration, and three white stripe tattoos ran across her cheeks, giving her an even more fierce look.
Her elongated canine teeth flashed as she gritted her jaw, and Rex could almost hear the low growls of irritation she was letting slip.
She was dressed in a feline-hooded yellow one-piece jumpsuit, the fabric contrasting sharply against the gold-trimmed white armor plates that covered her chest and upper arms.
A brown utility belt was slung around her hips, and Rex noticed the three daggers attached to it—tools that clearly meant she was no stranger to combat. Her boots, red and white with large, decorative cones extending up past her knees, gave her a distinct, almost regal appearance, but it was clear from the way she moved that she was anything but calm.
Rex hesitated for a moment, watching as she stormed back and forth, the tension practically radiating off her. Whoever she was, she looked like she knew something—or at the very least, might be dealing with the same problems as everyone else in the guild. Figuring it wouldn't hurt to ask, Rex straightened up and approached her, trying to keep his voice casual.
"Hey, are you—" Rex began, only to be cut off as the Gormotti girl spun around, her eyes blazing with intensity.
"WHAT?!" she yelled, her voice exploding with such ferocity that Rex flinched back, startled. His hands shot up, and before he could stop himself, the salvager gear he'd just collected slipped from his grasp. Cylinders, oxygen tanks, and rations tumbled to the ground in a clattering heap, and Rex could only stare at the mess, wide-eyed.
Malos leaned back against the railing of the chairman's office balcony, his sharp gaze sweeping over the sparse marketplace below. Argentum, usually bustling with activity, felt unusually quiet—a side effect of the recent disturbances. His patience was wearing thin, and the looming pressure of their operation weighed heavily on him.
His eyes narrowed as they landed on Nia and Dromarch navigating the crowds below. While Dromarch moved with his usual calm efficiency, Nia was a different story. She paced erratically, her frustration written all over her face. Every exaggerated motion and scowl irritated Malos more, her lack of subtlety grating on his nerves.
'So much for staying under the radar,' he thought bitterly. Though her agitation mildly amused him, it only fueled his annoyance at the situation. They were walking a thin line, and Nia's outbursts weren't helping. Yet, at the same time, her struggle served as a reminder of the delays already hampering their progress.
When Malos had first arrived at Argentum, his initial instinct had been to barge into the chairman's office and get things done, whether they were ready or not. His patience had never been his strongest suit, and he wasn't in the mood for another bureaucratic roadblock. Not even that little freak of nature—Helehele, the pink little Nopon who served as Chairman Bana's secretary—would have stopped him.
'I could just toss that little pink freak aside like a toy,' he'd thought, a dark grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. But as soon as he approached his door, he overheard a conversation that forced him to pause.
"U-um Chairman Bana is currently in important meeting with Emperor Niall of Mor Ardain and Praetor Amalthus, S-so he very busy at the moment, meh meh," Helehele had squeaked, her wings fluttering nervously as if sensing his impatience.
Malos had barely stopped himself from bursting in, a low growl escaping his throat. "Of course, he is," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his short black hair. "Talks of the great powers and I have to wait in line like a good little boy. Perfect."
His eyes flickered to Helehele, who looked as if she might faint under his gaze. For a moment, he was tempted to push past her anyway, demand that Bana prioritize his business, not some pointless diplomatic squabble.
But he forced himself to lean back against the wall instead, crossing his arms. He had to play this smart. If Bana was talking to both the Emperor and the Praetor, it was a sign of the growing tension across Alrest. The storm they'd been planning for almost half a millennia was close to breaking, and this kind of power shift was bound to create ripples. He needed the chairman in his corner, for now, but barging in now could ruin everything.
"So, when's your boss gonna be free?" Malos finally growled at Helehele, his voice dripping with impatience.
The Nopon blinked up at him, her little eyes wide with nervous energy. "Uhh... Bana say not to interrupt until big talk is over. Very important business, very delicate, Meh."
Malos clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to lash out. "Delicate. Right. Fine. Tell him when he's done that his favorite customer wants to see him. But if he's not done soon, I'm not waiting any longer."
He turned, eyes narrowing as they landed on Nia and Dromarch below. Watching the Gormotti girl pace back and forth wasn't the distraction he needed, but it helped to vent some of his frustration.
About twenty minutes had passed, and whatever small amusement Malos had gleaned from watching Nia's blunders faded into utter frustration. Her increasingly exasperated expressions were almost painful to witness. He couldn't shake the feeling that confronting her would be all too appealing at this point, especially since she hadn't had any luck with her reconnaissance.
To make matters worse, he couldn't see Dromarch anymore; it was obvious that Nia had likely asked the overgrown house cat to stay in one spot, further complicating her efforts.
Malos shifted his weight against the railing, contemplating whether he should just storm down there and demand some answers. But before he could start moving, a hesitant voice broke through his thoughts.
"U-um, Sir? The Chairman is free now, and Helehele told chairman what you said," the pink little freak chirped, her eyes darting nervously between him and the door.
Malos turned slowly, the corners of his mouth twitching in irritation. "You mean he finally wrapped up his little tea party with the emperor and the praetor?"
Helehele nodded vigorously, her small frame trembling slightly. "Y-yes! Meh, Bana waiting for you now!"
Malos rolled his eyes, straightening up. "Well, it's about damn time. Let's hope he's got good news for me." He shot her a sidelong glance, his expression darkening. "And tell him if he keeps me waiting like this, he'll have more than just the Empire and the Praetorium to worry about."
Before Helehele could waddle over and open the door for him, Malos shoved the little Nopon aside with his foot, barging into the office without hesitation.
"MEH MEH! Careful with door, that very expensive!" Bana squawked, his voice high-pitched and laced with indignation.
Malos paused for a moment, eyeing the chairman with a mixture of irritation and disdain. The typical Nopon were small, round, egg-shaped creatures covered in soft fur and feathers, with tiny, stubby arms and legs. Their small faces were framed by prehensile wing-like ears, which they often kept wrapped around their necks like a fluffy scarf. Normally you'd never see those little things go above two to three feet in height.
However, Chairman Bana was a far cry from those little freaks. He towered over them at a staggering four and half feet tall, coming up to Malos's chest. The fat blue bastard was massive for a Nopon, with a body that was far too plump and a face that resembled a grotesque caricature of his kind.
His stubby arms and legs struggled to support his girth, and his wing-like ears, which should have been gracefully wrapped around his neck, flopped awkwardly as he tried to maintain his balance.
Then there was all the jewelry that Bana wore, each piece as ostentatious as the last. A bright red monocle perched precariously over one eye, glimmering with a false sense of sophistication. Ruby-plated gold bracelets adorned his wing-like ears, making them look even more ridiculous as they strained under their weight. His hair was styled in a frilly bun, held together with a gold cuff that seemed to struggle against the sheer volume of his fluff.
Despite his rich and fancy attire, the clothes looked absurdly mismatched for his egg-shaped frame; they were simultaneously too tight and too loose as if they had been hastily tailored by someone who had never seen a Nopon before. The combination made him resemble a walking parody rather than the dignified chairman he fancied himself to be.
"Oh, Malos," Bana began, his indignant rant cut short as he caught sight of Malos's irritated expression. "What can Bana, Chairman of Argentum Trade Guild do for favorite customer today?"
"You should know why I'm here, fuzzball," Malos retorted, slamming the door behind him with enough force to rattle the walls.
"Meh meh, did Malos not hear Bana?!" the chairman shouted, his voice a high-pitched squeal.
Malos ignored Bana's indignation, fixing him with a glare that barely concealed his irritation. The Nopon's jovial demeanor only further fueled Malos's annoyance.
Sighing in exasperation, Bana continued, "Meh, yes yes, Bana know exactly why you here, and Bana must apologize but will need to reschedule date for the use of Maelstrom."
"I'm aware," the black-armored man replied blandly, crossing his arms. "I want to reschedule it to the end of this month."
Bana blinked once, then twice, before bursting into condescending laughter. "Heh, heh, meh! That is funny joke!" His laughter echoed off the walls as Malos scowled at the rotund Nopon, the expression deepening as he watched the chairman revel in his mockery. "Wait, Malos serious? Let Bana laugh even harder!"
Bana erupted into uproarious laughter, his chubby form shaking with mirth, the jewelry adorning him clinking together like a cacophony of bells. Malos's scowl deepened, and he felt a flicker of rage boiling beneath the surface.
After a few agonizing seconds of his condescending cackling, Bana finally calmed down, adopting a deadpan expression. "Does Malos not realize how crazy things in Alrest have gotten since last night?"
"No," Malos says, his voice icy, "Care to fill me in?"
Bana took a moment to adjust his monocle, his expression shifting to one of exaggerated seriousness. "Meh, well, many things happening in Alrest since last night, Malos! Places like lower levels of Mor Ardain, Gormott, and Forbidden Zone—big troubles everywhere!" He gestured dramatically, his plump arms wobbling. "Bana sent nearly all medical staff, even all salvage experts, to help! It is very serious, yes, yes!"
Malos crossed his arms, his patience wearing thin. "And what about the Maelstrom? How long do you need it for?"
"Meh, that is tricky question!" Bana exclaimed, his eyes twinkling with greed. "Emperor Niall and Praetor Amalthus want it for many days! They make big plans, very important, yes! But they also know that Bana needs it for business! Very delicate balance, yes!"
Malos leaned closer, his voice low and threatening. "Cut the crap, Bana. I want that ship. I don't care about your precious balance."
"Does Malos not realize Bana cannot bring back Maelstrom ship back not even one full month after departure?" Bana retorted, flapping his wings indignantly. "Mor Ardain and Pretorium will grow suspicious and send detectives to check on Bana's activities."
Malos gritted his teeth, his patience fraying. "Then pay them off."
"Bana cannot simply pay them off."The chairman exclaimed, his voice rising. "They be sending people who will not be convinced with money, Like Flame Bringer or Pretorium's emissary." His wings flapped wildly in agitation, adding a comical element to his distress.
In a fit of rage, Malos punched a hole through the door, the wood splintering under his strength.
"MEH MEH! Stop punching Bana's door!" Bana squawked, his eyes wide with shock and indignation. "That very expensive! You break it, you pay for it!"
Malos barely registered the complaint as he glared down at the Nopon. "Do you have any idea how much fucking money I'm paying you just to have it for two nights?"
"Bana more than aware how much Torna pay," the chairman retorted, puffing out his chest. "Bana counted!"
Malos's irritation flared. "Then you know it better be worth it. I'm not going to let you squander my investment while you sit here counting your coins."
"Bana not squandering anything!" He protested, flapping his wings for emphasis. "Meh meh, Bana doing his best! But things in Alrest… they very chaotic! If Bana brings back Maelstrom too quickly, it may attract attention. You not want that, do you?"
Malos paused, letting it sink in. As much as he loathed to admit it, the fat bastard of a Nopon had a point. The Empire and the Praetorium would undoubtedly send their best to investigate why the Maelstrom was being called back for just two days, especially when they needed it to handle the chaos brewing in Mor Ardain.
And Bana, being the greedy, self-serving bastard he was, would sell them out in an instant if it meant saving his own feathery skin.
Malos scowled, weighing the odds. He wasn't confident in his chances against the Empire's Flame Bringer, a warrior renowned for her ruthless strength, nor the Praetorium's little boy scout, the prodigious emissary who embodied their self-righteous power. With his team, they could pull it off, but facing the full might of either faction bearing down on them afterward? If not then the entirety of Alrest? That was a risk even Malos couldn't brush off easily.
A flicker of rage twisted his gut. It would be foolish to ignore the threat they posed, and Torna wasn't ready for an all-out war. Not yet.
But he wouldn't show that weakness to Bana.
Malos turned his simmering gaze toward the fat chairman, who was watching him with smug satisfaction. The Nopon's beady eyes glimmered with the sense of victory, and it grated on every nerve Malos had.
Taking a deep breath, Malos forced his rage down, asking through gritted teeth, "When's the soonest you can bring it back?"
"Without them looking at Bana too suspiciously?" Bana mused, glancing at his papers before returning his gaze, this time cold and calculating. "Three months."
Malos narrowed his eyes, unwilling to concede. "Two and a half."
"Three months," Bana stated firmly, his voice unwavering. "No sooner, meh. Three months may be enough time for them not to send best. However, they more than likely still hire mercenaries to investigate, and Bana will have to pay them off." His expression gleamed with greed as he added, "Meh meh, Bana hope Malos can find way to pay Bana back."
That last sentence dripped with barely concealed avarice, the unspoken demand for more money hanging in the air like a taunt. Malos's fists clenched at his sides, his patience rapidly unraveling.
This was taking too long.
"You can take a cut out of the pay we were going to give the salvagers," Malos said, his voice calm despite the fire burning in his eyes.
Bana's ears perked up at the mention of money, and the greedy glint in his eyes sharpened. "How much?" he asked, practically salivating at the prospect.
"Fifteen percent," Malos said flatly.
"Fifty," Bana countered without missing a beat, the gleam in his eyes intensifying.
"Thirty," Malos shot back, narrowing his gaze. "We still need the money to convince them."
"Thirty-five," Bana said, flapping his wings slightly in anticipation, his voice smooth with confidence.
"You get thirty and no more," Malos growled, his tone final and unyielding.
"Meh meh, so you say," Bana shrugged, but the fat Nopon's puffed chest and barely concealed grin told Malos all he needed to know. The little obese bastard thought he'd won. And while Malos wanted to put him in his place, now wasn't the time for that.
With the deal done, Malos turned on his heel and made his way toward the exit. He shoved the door open with such force that the hinges snapped, the heavy door crashing against the wall with a loud bang that reverberated through the room. Helehele, who had been waddling nearby, let out a squeal of fear, her tiny wings fluttering in panic.
"MEH MEH! BANA'S DOOR!" the chairman shrieked, his voice rising in fury and alarm.
Malos didn't bother glancing back as he stormed out, the Nopon's screeching fading into the background. The damage left in his wake was the least of his concerns.
His focus shifted to the next move.
He needed to find Nia and Dromarch.
Stepping into the empty marketplace, Malos scanned the empty stalls and barren plaza for any sign of the Gormotti girl and her oversized feline Blade. If they hadn't uncovered anything useful by now, then it was time for him to step in and take control.
"WHAT?!"
Malos pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply in frustration. Finding them wasn't going to be difficult—Nia's outburst was already drawing attention from whoever was left in the marketplace.
"Aww no! My stuff!" Rex cried as he started scrambling to collect his dropped gear and rations, "Jeez lady, I just wanted to see if you were alright. You didn't need to scream at me."
Nia huffed, crossing her arms tightly. "And what did ya expect me to do, smile and say Oh why thank you young man but I'm fine?" she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Without waiting for a response, she resumed pacing, her feline ears flicking in agitation. "Of all the bloody things… it's just a couple of rocks that plopped into the clouds, and no one seems to know a damn thing about them!"
Rex blinked in disbelief, pausing his frantic effort to gather his things. "Really? That's what's got you in such a hissy fit?"
"Oi, watch it, you!" Nia shot back, glaring at the boy. "My agitation just so happens to be about something quite important, kid."
Rex raised an eyebrow, unfazed by her sharp tone. "Kid? From the looks of your height, we look nearly the same age," he retorted, standing up straight to prove his point.
"Doesn't change the fact that you don't know a damn thing about what I'm dealin' with right now!"
"What, are you referring about the meteor shower?"
Nia stopped mid-pace, her ears twitching. "Wait... you know about it?"
Rex stood up, brushing off his gear. "Well, yeah. There's talk all over Argentum about it. Apparently, it's landed in several areas ranging from Mor Ardain, Gormott—"
Nia's expression shifted, her eyes narrowing as she focused intently on Rex. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, a familiar voice chimed in from behind.
"My lady, I heard you scream and wanted to make sure you didn't scare whoever you pointed your anger at too much," Dromarch interrupted, strolling in and sitting next to Nia with an amused purr. "It seems my worries were well founded."
Nia crossed her arms, glaring sideways at Dromarch. "Oh, shut it, furball."
Dromarch's tail flicked lazily as he glanced at Rex. "And I see you've found a young salvager to take your frustrations out on."
Dromarch then slightly bowed his head at the brown-haired boy. "Young man, I implore you to excuse my lady's discourtesy," he said with a dignified tone, though a hint of amusement lingered in his voice.
Rex scratched the back of his head, a bit taken aback by the formality. "Uh, no worries. I mean, I wasn't exactly being polite either," he admitted, glancing at Nia, who still looked rather agitated.
Nia huffed, her arms tightening across her chest. "Oi, Dromarch, don't make it sound like I'm the one causing problems here!"
Dromarch gave a knowing look. "Of course not, my lady. I simply wished to ease the tension."
Dromarch turned his gaze back to Rex, his expression calm and focused. "So, you mentioned the meteor shower hitting Mor Ardain and Gormott. Is there anything else you know?"
Rex, feeling the weight of the tiger-like Blade's inquiry, nodded nervously. "U-um yeah, it also landed in the Forbidden Zone. Then for Mor Ardain, from what I've heard, where the large rocks landed, it caused a major tsunami, hitting the lower levels. They just sent out the Maelstrom last night, and I'm assuming most people left to either go help or check on their loved ones."
Nia's ears flattened and her expression tightened as she processed the information. "A tsunami? Bloody hell… I didn't realize it was that bad." Her earlier frustration melted into something more serious, her eyes darting to Dromarch for a moment before returning to Rex. "Anything else?"
Rex shook his head as he knelt back down to grab the few items he hadn't picked up earlier. "Nope, that's it. That's all I've heard." He stood back up, with everything in his arms once more, his tone softening as he added, "It's a real mess out there."
Dromarch nodded gravely. "That's more than enough, young man. You've been most helpful."
Before Nia could respond further, another voice cut her off, barely veiled anger making it slice through the air like a blade. "We need to leave. Now."
The interruption caused all three of them to stiffen as they turned to see Malos with his arms crossed, looking like he was ready to hit something. "I'm finished with business. We're going."
Nia wanted to argue, her lips parting in defiance, but one look at Malos's face made her swallow her words. His expression left no room for debate, dark and simmering with impatience. Without a word, he turned and started walking away, expecting her to follow without question.
She huffed under her breath, her frustration barely contained. "Guess this is goodbye," she muttered to Rex, casting him a quick glance and a casual salute before reluctantly following after Malos.
Dromarch, ever the courteous one, bowed slightly to Rex before padding along beside Nia.
Rex, feeling the awkwardness of the situation, gave a small wave back. "Uh... see you around," he called after them, though he wasn't sure if they even heard him. With a shrug, he turned and made his way back to where Gramps was waiting, still processing the strange encounter.
The trio's trip back to the Monoceros was a silent affair. Nia and Dromarch both exchanged brief glances, wanting to report their findings, but one look from Malos quickly silenced the idea. His mood simmered with unspoken tension, his stride sharp and focused. The air felt heavy, and neither of them dared to break it.
Once they entered the Monoceros, Malos lingered by the entrance, his gaze dark and unreadable. Nia and Dromarch instinctively continued walking further into the ship's interior, but they didn't get far.
Just as Nia was about to follow Dromarch, she felt a sudden pressure on top of her head. Malos's hand. It wasn't painful, but firm enough that she knew he wanted her to stop.
Nia froze, her heart skipping a beat as she glanced up at him. "Oi, what's this about?" she muttered, trying to sound defiant but unable to mask the slight tension in her voice.
Malos's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, laced with irritation. "Do you not understand the meaning of keeping a low profile?"
Nia remained silent, the weight of his words sinking in as the reason for him stopping her became painfully clear.
"I had to wait quite some time to meet the chairman," Malos continued, his tone simmering with barely contained anger. "And with nothing better to do, I looked out at the marketplace—empty, for the most part. Then I saw you." His gaze darkened as he leaned down slightly. "Heard you, too."
Nia swallowed hard, her defiance wilting under Malos's scrutinizing gaze. She hadn't expected this. She could almost feel the weight of his disapproval, and it unsettled her.
"I saw you," Malos repeated, his voice sharp and cutting. "Pacing around like some kid with a temper tantrum and yelling at random strangers. Hardly the behavior of someone trying to stay unnoticed."
Nia clenched her fists, heat rising to her face. "I wasn't yellin' at random strangers," she protested weakly. "I was... gatherin' information."
"Really?" Malos arched an eyebrow, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Because from what I saw, you were drawing attention to yourself. Something I thought you knew was a bad thing."
She bit her lip, knowing he wasn't wrong. She had let her frustration get the better of her, and it wasn't like her outburst went unnoticed. She could feel her ears burning as she recalled Dromarch's earlier teasing.
Malos's gaze turned unreadable as he let go of her head, crossing his arms with a detached air. "So... tell me, Nia," he began, voice unnervingly calm, "before that little outburst of yours. What did you manage to find?"
Nia hesitated, her eyes flicking to his blank expression, trying to gauge his mood. "I-uh... couldn't find much," she finally admitted, her voice quieter than before. "Everyone I talked to didn't know squat about what happened. They all just said something big went down last night." She paused, then added, "Basically... what we already knew."
Malos's face remained unreadable as he continued, his tone flat but probing. "Then what did Dromarch tell you? Because I didn't see him after you two reunited the first time."
The Gormotti girl swallowed, realizing there was no escaping this interrogation. "E-erm, he told me about the aftermath of the meteor shower," she replied quickly, trying to steady her voice. "And that the Maelstrom was sent out to Mor Ardain. That's why nearly all the salvagers are gone."
Malos let out a grunt, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Then what about the boy you decided to blow your head off at?"
"Uh, he told me that the meteor shower actually caused a tsunami, hitting a majority of the lower levels," Nia continued, trying to sound more confident. "And that it hit Gormott and the Forbidden Zone too."
Malos nodded slightly as he began walking away, "Our operation has been delayed by three months."
Nia's eyes widened as Malos's words sank in. "Three months?" she blurted out, unable to hide her shock. "What the hell for?"
Malos didn't turn around, his voice as cold as ever. "The chairman's playing politics. Emperor Niall requisitioned the Maelstrom for their little relief effort in Mor Ardain. So, we wait. Three months until we can resume the plan."
Nia sputtered, "Eh, then what the hell are we supposed to do until then?"
Malos paused mid-stride, turning to face her. His icy glare shifted into something darker, a hint of malice creeping into his expression. "I'm going to be your sparring partner until then."
Nia's face paled at the realization.
Authors note:
Those who have played Xenoblade 2 what are your thoughts on how I've done the alternative world-building?
How about my portrayal of the characters?
Have I screwed up somewhere with the lore? Or just anywhere?
Those who haven't, what do you guys think?
Leave a follow if you like it, and Leave a like if you love it. Leave a review with your thoughts, each review can help me improve.
