The rain had finally stopped, leaving the scorched earth of Greymoot two hours after the battle, soaked and steaming as the night deepened.The air smelled of ash and blood, Tsuyen, clad in her yellow ranger armor, sat perched on a smoldering tree stump near the edge of the crater her Spinosaurus Zord had created.
The battle was over, but her mind was anything but calm. Her shattered helmet, still barely clinging to its shape, sat in her lap. She ran her gloved fingers over the jagged crack that split it almost in two.
Poor helmet, she thought bitterly. She could still feel the ache in her skull from the blow that had broken it, a reminder of how close she'd come to being another casualty of the farm's fiery chaos. A wry smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite the weight of the evening. Barely survived the fight better than I did.
Her fists tightened as she thought of the families they couldn't save, the lives snuffed out before they could intervene. The cult had grown bolder, and Greymoot had paid the price.
It had been a nightmare. The putties had swarmed the farm like locusts, leaving fire and destruction in their wake. Everything had been burning, and she could still hear the screams of villagers and the desperate cries of animals trapped in the inferno. For a moment, she'd thought it was the end.
She had fought until her arms ached, until she thought her legs might give out. One of them had nearly killed her—nearly ended her—and the memory made her jaw tighten.
For a terrifying moment, she'd thought she wouldn't make it.
She owed her life to Zhong, who had arrived just in time to pull her from the brink.
Together, they had regrouped, and she had mounted Gwendolyn's Tyrannosaurus Zord, its massive frame towering over the chaos.
From there, the battle turned.
She remembered finding the putty core in the abandoned church—a grotesque mass of pulsating red energy that fueled the creatures' relentless assault. Her own Spinosaurus Zord roared to life in response, her link to it stronger than ever.
The searing heat of its energy cannon obliterated the core, leaving a smoldering crater at the farm.
The church had been next.
Guiding the Tyrannosaurus Zord alongside her Spinosaurus, she unleashed devastation upon the structure, bringing its stone walls crumbling down and scattering the remaining putties like ash in the wind.
But while she handled the field, Gwendolyn and Zhong had stormed the church itself, facing off against the cultists. They had uncovered the truth there—a betrayal that cut deeply.
The Lord of Greymoot, Alistair, had sold out his people to the cult, condemning an innocent man, Wylam—or Old Man Wyl as Gwendolyn had referred to him. He was a wanderer who had stumbled upon Alistair's dealings with the cult, only to be executed for knowing too much.
The thought of it made her stomach churn, Tsuyen's bitter thoughts were interrupted by Gwendolyn's voice, sharp yet steady. "We'll get Lord Alistair into custody. He's going to answer for what happened here, he will face justice for what he has done."
Tsuyen turned to see Gwendolyn—the Red Ranger—standing a few steps away, her posture commanding even as she cradled an unconscious boy in her arms. Tsuyen's gaze flickered to the boy but didn't linger. Gwendolyn hadn't introduced him, and she wasn't about to ask.
Nicholas, Tsuyen realized. She didn't know who he was outside of his name, but when she saw the way Gwendolyn held him, she pieced it together. Her brother.
Tsuyen watched Gwendolyn disappear into the night, the rain having at least helped snuff out most of the fires. She mused on the chance of meeting Nicholas, thankful he had survived. The Red Ranger had more weight on her shoulders than anyone deserved, and Tsuyen could only hope she'd find a moment of peace, however brief, with her brother.
The Red Ranger continued, her tone clipped. "Tsuyen, I need you to question Lord Alistair when we get back to Dino Hedge. Sharply. We don't need his excuses; we already know why he did it. What we need are answers we don't have. How long has he worked with the cult? Who's giving him orders?"
Tsuyen nodded, sliding her helmet back on and standing. "Understood," she said curtly.
There were more pressing matters to address.
Zhong approached from her left, his tonfas slung over his shoulder. "You heard her," he said, his voice calm but laced with irritation. "Let's see what Alistair has to say for himself."
They both turned to where Lord Alistair was slumped against a broken wall, bound and helmetless, his face streaked with soot and blood. He glared up at them with defiance, though there was a flicker of fear in his eyes.
"Let's get this over with," she said, her voice cold. "The sooner we get answers, the sooner we can end this."
She crouched in front of Alistair, her broken helmet still in her hands. You'll talk, she thought grimly. One way or another.
The traitorous lord started to beg.
"Wait!"
"No, please!"
"No!"
"No!"
Stop!
Please!
Sto-
--
As they moved toward their transport, Zhong muttered, his frustration evident even through his helmet, "I'm telling you, I should've punched Alistair a little more. That smug face of his deserves it."
Tsuyen glanced at him, her voice measured. "I understand. The cult is personal to you. To all of us."
Zhong stopped, his hands curling into fists. "Hexagon should've wiped them out years ago, they could've stopped all of this before it ever reached us." he growled.
"Hexagon should've done a lot of things. Maybe if they had, we wouldn't be cleaning up their messes" Tsuyen said bitterly, her voice cold. "But they didn't. So it's up to us now." The cult was personal to Zhong in ways she didn't fully comprehend but could feel. His pain, his anger, radiated from him like heat.
They didn't speak further as they walked. The distant cries of grieving villagers followed them, a grim reminder of the battle they had just fought—and the war that was far from over.
The streets of Greymoot were eerily quiet except for the steady crunch of boots against scorched dirt and the occasional creak of a half-collapsed building. The air was thick with the smell of ash and damp earth, the rain having done little to wash away the scars of the attack. Tsuyen, still clad in her yellow ranger armor, walked alongside Zhong, whose black ranger armor gleamed faintly under the moonlight. Over his shoulder, Zhong carried Lord Alistair like a sack of grain, the unconscious man's head lolling to one side.
The sight was... ridiculous. At fourteen, Zhong was hardly taller than the average teenager, and watching him lug around a bruised and battered adult who was easily twice his weight was like something out of a bad comedy sketch. To make it even more absurd, Zhong was absently twirling one of his tonfas in his right hand, the spinning weapon making faint whooshing sounds as they walked.
Tsuyen glanced at him and couldn't help herself. "You know, Feathers, I could carry him if you're getting tired."
Zhong scoffed, the tonfa spinning faster. "Tired? Nay. This guy's lighter than he looks. I've carried heavier logs back home." He threw a pointed look at the unconscious lord. "And logs don't talk or betray their own people."
"Still," Tsuyen said, her tone wry, "it's not every day you see a kid hauling a full-grown man through a burned-out town. You're lucky no one's laughing."
Zhong snorted but didn't stop. "If they are, they're doing it quietly. Besides, I wouldn't let you carry him, Tomo. You're already carrying enough."
The nickname made her pause for a moment, but she let it slide. Zhong always had a way of deflecting with something half-serious, half-flippant. "Fair enough," she said, her tone softening. "Just don't throw your back out. We still need you in one piece."
As they passed through the streets, the villagers began to emerge from their homes and hiding places. Most of them looked at the rangers with gratitude, some even nodding or murmuring thanks. But Tsuyen noticed the others—the ones who kept their distance, their eyes wide with fear and suspicion. The rangers had saved them, yes, but that didn't mean they trusted them. The danger of the attack had made them allies for a night, nothing more, nothing less.
Zhong noticed too, though he didn't say anything at first. When they reached the town square, he finally spoke. "The knights and the city watch are regrouping," he said, his tone measured. "They're doing a good job keeping things in order. Casualties were low, thank goodness, but... this'll leave a scar on Greymoot. The Moot territories won't forget what happened here. Not for a long time."
Tsuyen nodded, her gaze drifting over the villagers who lingered in the square, their faces illuminated by the faint glow of lanterns. She thought about the craters, the burning farm, the ruined church. Zhong was right. This wasn't something that would be forgotten easily. "You're right, Feathers," she said, using the nickname again. She didn't mention why, and neither did he. "It'll leave a mark."
She turned her attention to the faint shimmer of magic residue that still lingered in the air, invisible to most but not to her. The energy from the cult's attack was strange, almost sickening in its intensity. "I'll analyze the magic residue left behind," she said, almost to herself. Then, louder: "I'll take it back to Dino Hedge. They'll want to know what we're dealing with."
Zhong twirled his tonfa one last time before tucking it into his belt. "Good idea," he said, shifting Alistair's weight on his shoulder. "Let's make sure we're ready the next time these cultists try something like this."
The two rangers continued their trek through the ruined streets, their helmets hiding their expressions but not their resolve. The battle was over, but the aftermath would linger—and so would the questions they still needed answers to.
--
The two rangers made their way toward the outskirts of Greymoot, where the towering silhouettes of their Zords waited in the distance like silent guardians. The faint glow of the fires from the battle still lit parts of the village, but the rain had dulled the flames to smoldering embers. Zhong adjusted Alistair on his shoulder, not because he was struggling, but to make sure the traitor's weight didn't shift too much.
The Spinosaurus Zord and Tyrannosaurus Zord loomed over the blackened farmland, their immense forms blending into the darkness like massive statues. Tsuyen's gaze briefly flickered to her Spinosaurus Zord, a pang of relief settling in her chest at the sight of it unharmed. It had done its part tonight, blasting the putty core into oblivion. She just hoped there wouldn't be a next time to put it through the same chaos.
Zhong, on the other hand, couldn't help but swing his tonfa again, its rhythmic twirl filling the silence. "You'd think carrying a treacherous noble would earn me a little fanfare," he said dryly, nodding toward the villagers who were still watching them from afar. "But nope. Just more stares."
"Trust takes time, Feathers," Tsuyen replied, her voice calm yet tinged with a bit of sarcasm. "And to be fair, you're not exactly inspiring confidence carrying someone twice your size like a bag of flour."
Zhong grinned behind his helmet, shrugging. "Hey, if it gets the job done, it gets the job done."
As they moved closer to the Zords, the ground beneath them began to shift subtly, the sheer presence of the massive machines making every step feel heavier. The Spinosaurus Zord's eyes glowed faintly, a low rumble emitting from it like it was recognizing Tsuyen. She reached up instinctively, almost as if greeting an old friend, though her helmet remained firmly on.
"This magic residue," Tsuyen muttered, stopping briefly to survey the faint shimmer in the air again. "I'll have to analyze it carefully once we're back at Dino Hedge. It's... different. Stronger. More concentrated than usual."
Zhong tilted his head. "Think it has to do with the cult?"
"Absolutely," she said, her tone sharper now. "They're growing bolder. This attack wasn't random. They knew what they were doing, and they wanted to leave a message."
He nodded, his tone quieter now. "Yeah. And they left it loud and clear."
Finally, they reached the base of their Zords. The Spinosaurus Zord lowered its head slightly, allowing Tsuyen to climb up. Zhong, still carrying Alistair, stopped at the foot of the stegosaurus Zord. He craned his neck back to look at the towering machine, then at the limp lord slung over his shoulder.
"Alright, buddy," he said with mock cheerfulness, "time to see how it feels to ride in style. Don't get used to it."
Tsuyen rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "Just make sure he doesn't puke in the cockpit."
"Pfft. He's out cold. He won't even know where he is when he wakes up." Zhong tossed Alistair's limp form over his shoulder a little too casually and began climbing into the Zord. "Besides, if he does puke, he's cleaning it up."
As the two rangers settled into their respective Zords, the faint hum of the machines coming to life echoed through the air. The battlefield behind them felt like a distant memory, though neither of them would forget it any time soon.
Tsuyen leaned back in her seat, watching as the Spinosaurus Zord's controls lit up under her touch. She glanced out at the horizon, her thoughts still circling back to the fight, the cult, and the devastation left in Greymoot. Zhong's voice broke through her thoughts over the comm.
"You think they'll let us crash at Dino Hedge for a bit? I could use a nap."
Tsuyen snorted softly. "You mean you're tired? You should've let me carry him after all."
"Never. It's a pride thing."
Shaking her head, Tsuyen guided her Zord forward, following Zhong's lead.
There was still much to do, but for now, they were leaving Greymoot in capable hands—and the next steps would bring them closer to the truth.
As Tsuyen and Zhong climbed into their respective Zords, the heavy doors of the cockpits closed with a metallic hiss. Inside, the interiors were illuminated by soft, pulsing lights. Tsuyen ran her hands over the controls of her Spinosaurus Zord, the runic symbols glowing faintly under her touch. She leaned back, letting out a small sigh as Zhong's voice crackled through the communication link.
"'Tis not every day a lord finds himself draped across the shoulder of a humble warrior," Zhong said, his tone laden with mock solemnity. "Mayhaps I should have charged him for the service."
Tsuyen rolled her eyes beneath her helmet as she activated the teleportation sequence. "If thou dost intend to jest, at least ensure it is worth the air thou wastest to speak it. Focus, Zhong. Prepare for teleportation."
Zhong chuckled, his voice filled with ease. "Aye, Lady Tomo, thy chiding wounds me so. But I am prepared as always. Let us away."
Tsuyen glanced at the countdown on her display. "Initiating teleportation sequence. Five... four..."
"Three," Zhong chimed in.
"Two," Tsuyen continued, her tone clipped.
"One."
A surge of light enveloped their Zords, the air around them shimmering with energy as the teleportation crystals embedded within the machines activated. In an instant, the landscape of Greymoot vanished, replaced by the stone walls and glowing sigils of the Dino Hedge teleportation chamber. The transition was smooth, the Zords settling onto their designated platforms with a low hum.
"Well," Zhong said, his tone laced with a grin even through the central plateu phrasing, "it seems thy magic hath spared us an untimely mishap once more. Thou hast my thanks."
Tsuyen allowed herself a faint smirk. "Think not to test thy luck, Zhong. Were it my decision, I might leave thee behind to fend for thyself the next time thou speaketh nonsense."
"A cruel jest!" Zhong exclaimed. "Though I would make do. 'Tis my burden to ensure even the ungrateful are protected."
Tsuyen's voice softened, though her tone remained formal. "Enough jests, Zhong. There is much to discuss. The attack on Greymoot was no chance occurrence. These cultists sought to send a message—and methinks it will not be their last attempt."
Zhong's tone grew serious. "Aye, and the lord we carry may yet yield the truth of their schemes. Though I admit, the sight of him bruised doth bring a measure of satisfaction."
Tsuyen shook her head, her expression hidden beneath her helmet. "Take care, Zhong. Vengeance clouds the mind. We must think clearly if we are to unravel this web."
Zhong sighed, his fingers drumming idly on the controls. "Aye, thou art right as ever, Tomo. Yet, one cannot deny the desire to see justice swiftly dealt."
"Justice, yes," Tsuyen replied firmly. "But justice tempered with reason. We shall question him, not with fury but with sharp minds. The truth shall reveal itself in due course."
With that, the two Zords powered down, their interiors dimming as the teleportation chamber doors opened before them. The rangers stepped out, their helmets still on, their forms towering over the chamber's attendants. They had returned to the safety of Dino Hedge, but the battle was far from over.
As the Zord cockpits powered down, Tsuyen stepped out of hers, brushing dust off her arm. Zhong followed, still carrying the bruised and unconscious Lord Alistair slung over his shoulder. For a moment, the two rangers were silent as they walked toward the pathway leading deeper into the cavern. The flickering blue and green runes on the walls illuminated their way.
Then Zhong spoke, his voice dipping into an exaggerated version of the medieval tone they'd just been using. "Lady Tomo, dost thou not think my mastery of the old tongue most exquisite? Surely, I could fool even the bards!"
Tsuyen turned her helmeted head toward him, folding her arms. "If by 'exquisite,' thou meanest ridiculous, then aye. Truly, thou art the very model of courtly speech."
Zhong snorted. "Ridiculous? Nay, I am the paragon of the accent! Admit it—you were impressed."
Tsuyen finally let out a quiet laugh, her composed demeanor breaking slightly. "Very well, thou didst not sound entirely like a fool. Perhaps only half a fool. But admit it, I was better."
"I'll admit no such thing," Zhong said, grinning beneath his helmet. "But thou dost have a talent for the accent, I'll give thee that. A pity we cannot speak this way to the others."
"Mayhaps not," Tsuyen replied, this time with an intentional air of theatricality. Then, she dropped the pretense altogether, her voice reverting to normal. "Still, it's a fun diversion. Better than dwelling too long on… everything else."
Zhong nodded, his tone turning more serious. "Agreed. Sometimes, a little levity is needed. Especially after… all of this." He gestured vaguely toward the direction of Greymoot, where the aftermath of the battle still smoldered in their minds.
The two rangers fell into a more comfortable silence as they walked. The tunnel ahead opened into a vast cavern. Dino Hedge stretched out before them: a sprawling complex built into the island's rocky interior. The crystalline walls shimmered faintly, and a faint hum of power resonated through the air. Several pathways led to different chambers, where other Zords rested or where the team gathered for planning and strategy.
As they approached, Tsuyen turned to Zhong. "We'll need to bring the lord to the containment chambers before anything else. Then I'll analyze the magical residue from the attack. It might give us some clue about the cult's next move."
Zhong adjusted the unconscious man on his shoulder with ease, tossing his tonfa into the air and catching it deftly. "Aye, but methinks I'll need to stretch first. Carrying him feels like hauling a sack of wet stones. How dost a man so hollow weigh so much?"
Tsuyen smirked. "Perhaps it is the weight of his guilt."
Zhong laughed, but there was no humor in it. "If that were the case, I'd be crushed under him."
The two rangers made their way into Dino Hedge, the faint echoes of their footsteps mingling with the hum of power in the cavern. The battle at Greymoot was over, but the scars it left—on the land and on their hearts—would remain.
--
As they moved deeper into Dino Hedge, the temperature seemed to cool, the hum of energy growing louder. The faint blue glow from the runes along the walls cast eerie shadows, making the cavern feel alive. Zhong tossed his tonfa into the air again, catching it absentmindedly as they reached the chamber doors.
"Five seconds to teleportation, five minutes to hauling a traitor through these blasted halls," Zhong muttered. "Perhaps I should consider a wheelbarrow for next time."
Tsuyen let out a soft chuckle, her tone sharper than before. "Would you prefer I take him? Or would that wound your pride, Feathers?"
"Feathers?" Zhong turned his helmeted head to glance at her. "Ah, thou wound me, Lady Tomo. Thou speakest as if I cannot bear such a light burden."
"You've been complaining about that 'light burden' since we landed," Tsuyen replied dryly. "Though, I must say, you wear the exhaustion well."
Zhong snorted, shaking his head. "And thou dost wear sarcasm like armor. Fine, fine. Lead the way, but I won't stop grumbling."
The two finally reached the central chamber of Dino Hedge, where a platform stood waiting for them. Tsuyen walked ahead, activating the controls. The faint hum grew louder as energy flowed through the intricate runes carved into the stone, lighting up the cavern.
"Containment chamber is on the lower level," Tsuyen said as she keyed in a sequence. "We'll deposit him there first. Then, the residue."
"Right," Zhong agreed, shifting Lord Alistair as the platform began to rise. His tone turned light again as he added, "Still think we nailed those accents earlier, though. Better than Gwendolyn ever could."
Tsuyen gave a soft laugh, her posture relaxing just a bit. "True, but you'd best not say that to her face. I imagine she wouldn't take it well."
"Noted," Zhong replied with a grin beneath his helmet. "Best not to challenge the Red Ranger in any form—linguistic or otherwise."
The platform came to a halt at the containment level. The walls here were lined with faintly glowing crystal cells, each designed to hold even the most dangerous threats they encountered. Tsuyen gestured toward one of the cells, and Zhong unceremoniously dumped the unconscious Lord Alistair inside.
"Sleep well, milord," Zhong said mockingly as the containment field activated, sealing Alistair behind a shimmering barrier. "Though I suspect your dreams will not be kind."
Tsuyen folded her arms, watching the traitorous lord with a neutral expression. "He has much to answer for. And we have much to learn."
Zhong sighed, stepping back from the cell. "Aye. But for now, let's focus on the residue. The sooner we know what the cult was doing, the sooner we can stop their next move."
Tsuyen nodded, turning back toward the platform. "To the analysis chamber, then. And Zhong?"
"Hmm?" Zhong tilted his head.
"Try not to complain too much this time," she said, a faint smirk in her voice as they ascended toward their next task.
Zhong laughed, twirling his tonfa again. "No promises."
As they stepped off the platform and started walking toward the analysis chamber, the quiet hum of Dino Hedge accompanied their footsteps. Zhong glanced at Tsuyen, the faint glow of the crystals around them reflecting off his helmet.
"Alright, Tomo," he began, his tone light. "Serious question for thee: how dost thou judge my Central Plateau accent? A masterpiece of mimicry, no?"
Tsuyen paused for a moment, looking over her shoulder at him. Her voice was steady, though there was a hint of amusement beneath it. "Masterpiece? Hmm, bold claim. If I'm being generous, I'd say… passable."
"Passable?" Zhong exclaimed, clutching his chest theatrically, nearly dropping his tonfa in the process. "Thy words strike like daggers, fair ranger! Have I not charmed thee with my eloquence?"
Tsuyen shook her head, chuckling. "Oh, you charmed me, Zhong. Just not in the way you think. Central Plateau? More like… muddled marshlands."
Zhong laughed, a warm sound that echoed through the cavern. "Fine, fine. I'll concede the accent could use some work. But admit it—you were impressed by my commitment."
Tsuyen's lips quirked into a faint smile beneath her helmet. "I'll give you that. Your enthusiasm was admirable, even if your pronunciation left… much to be desired."
"Ha! I'll take it," Zhong said, twirling his tonfa lazily as they continued walking. "And what of thine accent? Truly, a marvel. I almost believed thou wert a courtly maiden of old."
"I am always a marvel," Tsuyen replied smoothly, her tone dry but playful.
"Of course, of course," Zhong agreed, nodding solemnly. "And here I thought Gwendolyn was the perfectionist among us."
They both laughed quietly, the tension from the earlier battle easing just a little as they approached the analysis chamber. The heavy doors slid open with a low rumble, revealing the room bathed in soft blue light. Arrays of runes and crystals lined the walls, waiting to process the strange energy residue left behind by the cult's attack.
Zhong gestured dramatically for Tsuyen to enter first. "After thee, Lady Tomo. Let's unravel the secrets of our most noble foes."
Tsuyen shook her head, walking past him. "If you plan on continuing this charade, I'm going to start grading your efforts. You'll find I'm not a lenient teacher."
"Noted," Zhong said with a grin, following her inside. "But I've already learned one thing."
"And what's that?" Tsuyen asked, pulling out the vial of magical residue she'd collected.
"That the Central Plateau accent sounds much better in my head than out loud."
Tsuyen smirked, setting the vial into the analysis array. "A rare moment of self-awareness. I'm impressed."
"Enjoy it while it lasts," Zhong replied, leaning against the wall as the analysis process began.
The analysis array hummed to life, its crystalline panels shimmering as the residue from the cult's attack was processed. Symbols and faint glyphs appeared on the screen, rotating slowly as the system worked to interpret the magical traces.
Tsuyen watched the display closely, her hands clasped behind her back. The cool light from the array reflected off her armor, giving her an almost spectral appearance. Zhong, still leaning casually against the wall, twirled his tonfa absentmindedly, though his eyes kept darting to the display.
"So," Zhong said, breaking the silence. "What do you think we'll find? More proof of Alistair's folly? Or something worse?"
"Both are possible," Tsuyen replied, her tone thoughtful. "But I'm more interested in how long this has been festering under Greymoot's nose. Magic residue like this doesn't just appear overnight."
"Right," Zhong said, nodding. "It means Alistair wasn't just dabbling—he was entrenched."
Tsuyen glanced at him, the faintest hint of approval in her posture. "Exactly. If we can pinpoint the origin of this magic, we'll have a better idea of how deep the cult's influence runs. And whether Greymoot is the only place they've touched."
Zhong frowned, his casual demeanor shifting to something more serious. "You think they've spread further?"
Tsuyen hesitated before answering. "I don't know. But we can't afford to assume otherwise. The cult's been quiet for years, and now this? An attack on a town, Zords involved, innocent lives lost. It's too coordinated to be an isolated event."
"Hexagon should have crushed them while they had the chance," Zhong muttered, his tone bitter. "Instead, they left us to deal with the fallout."
Tsuyen's gaze lingered on him for a moment. "You're not wrong," she said softly. "But what's done is done. Our job is to pick up the pieces and make sure they don't get the chance to do this again."
Before Zhong could respond, the array emitted a soft chime, signaling the completion of its analysis. The glyphs on the screen shifted, rearranging themselves into a map of Greymoot and its surrounding areas. Lines of energy spread out from the town like veins, converging on a single point deep in the forest to the west.
"There," Tsuyen said, pointing to the glowing node on the map. "That's the source of the magic. Or at least, one of them."
"Looks remote," Zhong observed, stepping closer to get a better look. "Perfect place for a cult to hide."
"Which means it's probably heavily guarded," Tsuyen added, her mind already working through possible strategies. "We'll need to scout the area before making any moves."
Zhong crossed his arms, his expression grim. "And what about Alistair? You think he knows about this place?"
Tsuyen's gaze hardened. "He might. And if he does, we'll get it out of him."
Zhong nodded, a faint smirk returning to his face. "You know, Tomo, you've got a knack for sounding intimidating. Almost makes me feel sorry for the guy."
"Almost," Tsuyen replied, her tone cool but with a faint glimmer of amusement.
Zhong straightened up, sliding his tonfa back into its holster. "Well, we've got our next lead. Guess we'd better report to Gwendolyn and figure out the plan."
Tsuyen nodded, turning away from the array. "Agreed. Let's not keep her waiting."
As they left the analysis chamber, the faint hum of the Dino Hedge followed them, a reminder of the task ahead. The cult had made their move, and now it was their turn to respond.
As they walked away from the glowing analysis array, Tsuyen tilted her head slightly, her voice calm but carrying an undertone of exhaustion.
"We could leave it until tomorrow, you know," she suggested. "The source isn't going anywhere. Let Gwendolyn handle things in Greymoot while we gather ourselves."
Zhong groaned, running a hand through his dark hair before throwing his arms up in mock exasperation. "Tomorrow? And let these cursed ley lines ruin another day?" He scoffed, his tone half-joking. "Every time we deal with these infernal things, it's like they've made a pact to personally torment us."
Tsuyen smirked faintly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. "It's almost as if magic doesn't care about our schedules."
"Magic doesn't care about anything," Zhong grumbled. "But I care about sleep, Tomo, and I'm not getting any if I spend all night thinking about whatever madness is waiting in that forest."
"You could always blame the ley lines for your nightmares," Tsuyen offered dryly.
Zhong chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, I already do. 'Why couldn't they just be normal, straightforward veins of mystical energy?' I ask myself. But no, they have to twist and turn, lead to cultists, and drag us into forests at ungodly hours."
Tsuyen let out a soft laugh, her usual composed demeanor cracking slightly. "At least they keep us employed," she teased.
"Barely," Zhong retorted. "One day, I swear I'll find a way to make those ley lines work for us instead of against us."
"And when you do, let me know," Tsuyen replied, her tone light. "In the meantime, we'll prepare for tomorrow. No need to rush into a trap just because the ley lines are inconvenient."
Zhong sighed, rolling his shoulders as they approached another corridor. "Fine, fine. Tomorrow it is. But I'm holding you personally responsible if I dream of glowing maps and cursed forests tonight."
"I'll be sure to take full responsibility," Tsuyen said, the faintest trace of a smile lingering on her face.
They continued toward their quarters, their earlier tension eased by the banter. The next day would bring new challenges, but for now, they allowed themselves a brief moment of levity amidst the weight of their duties.
Even if for a night.