A golden beam shot down from the sky.
Sion's voice cut through the air.
"At least warn me first."
"Why though?" Dara grinned.
"So I don't puke on you, duh."
"What! Ewwww." Dara curled up in mock disgust.
Sion rolled his eyes, scanning their surroundings.
The ground was damp. Mostly mud. Almost no vegetation in sight.
His brow furrowed.
He turned to Dara—only to find her already poking at her Comm.
"Huh? I'm barely getting a signal out here. I can't even access my map," she muttered, swiping at the projection.
"Please don't tell me you need the map for something important. Like teleporting us back."
Sion didn't like the feeling crawling down his spine.
"Hmmm… Okay," Dara said. "I won't tell you."
"Well, that's bad." Sion sighed.
"What is?" Dara looked up, confused. "We can just walk back, right?"
"It's not that simple. We're too far out," Sion replied, his voice flat. "My senses cover a huge radius. I can't feel anything familiar inside it."
"You mean… we're outside your range?"
"Way outside."
Dara blinked. "How big is your range?"
"Hmm. When I say 'senses,' I don't mean just smell or hearing. It's more like… presence detection. Feeling movement. Energy. Pressure."
"I get it," Dara nodded.
Sion continued, "My range is about the size of a town."
"...You mean a city."
"Oh. Right." Sion scratched his head. "Village boy problems."
"Well, this is a bummer." Dara sighed, then narrowed her eyes at him. "Hey, don't you have your instincts?"
"Huh?" Sion blinked.
"Yeah. Your super instincts. Use them. Find a way back—or at least someplace with a signal."
"That's… not exactly how it works," Sion muttered. "But, okay."
He turned slowly, scanning the horizon. Quiet. Still. Then—
He stopped.
Pointed north.
"If we head straight, I'm pretty sure we'll make it back."
He paused.
"But I think we should take a slight detour."
"Why?"
"Just a feeling. If we go straight, we might get dragged into something stupid."
"Is it life-threatening?"
"With me here? Never."
"Then straight forward it is."
Sion gave a small, theatrical bow.
"As you wish, my princess."
Soon, they started walking in the direction.
As they walked in the silence.
Sion cast a subtle glance at Dara.
"We can tour as we go, right?"
"Hmm." Dara nodded. She pretended like she had not noticed his glance.
"This should be a swamp area." She gestured to the surrounding.
Sion looked around, then shook his head.
"It isn't?" Dara asked as she noticed.
"This should most likely be a field."
"Huh?" Dara blinked.
"I think people fought here recently and one of them most likely have a terrain related power." Sion explained.
She stopped, staring at him.
Sion took a few more steps, then realized. He turned back.
They just looked at each other for a moment.
Then Dara started walking again, passing him by.
"You're weird," she said, half-smiling.
"I'm not that weird," Sion muttered, jogging after her.
A while later.
Deeper into the terrain.
Dara and Sion chatted mindlessly as they walked.
They had crossed through the swampy wasteland and entered a rough, rocky area dotted with small cliffs and broken stone pillars.
"So let me get this straight," Dara said, narrowing her eyes at him for the tenth time. "You're really a village boy?"
"Yep," Sion said, shoulders slumping dramatically. "You're making me feel bad, you know."
"No, I'm not."
"What?!" Sion recoiled, clutching his chest in fake pain.
"You're a good actor," Dara rolled her eyes, "but you really think the same trick keeps working on me?"
"Tch. You're getting immune," Sion said, his 'hurt' look slipping away into his usual cool indifference.
"No, the one immune here is you," Dara said, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Immune to emotions."
"I'm not immune to emotions," Sion protested.
"Oh? You do feel things?"
"Yeah."
"Then why fake it all the time?"
"I don't fake it!" Sion scowled, tripping over his words. "I mean, I do feel... but it's like, my... other side just—it's complicated."
Dara smirked, arms crossed. "Complicated, huh? Sounds like code for 'emotionless'."
Just as Sion opened his mouth to argue—
He moved.
Instinct.
His right arm snapped around Dara's waist, pulling her tight against him. In the same motion, his left hand shot out and caught something—
A plasmic arrow.
It sizzled in his palm.
He skidded back a few feet, boots digging into the rocky ground, before settling into a ready stance.
"You know I can take care of myself, right?" Dara's voice came low in his ear.
He realized he was still holding her.
Close.
Way too close.
"Sorry," he said, releasing her carefully. "Superhero instincts."
"Or maybe..." Dara teased, stepping back, "man instincts?"
Sion scratched the back of his head, searching for a comeback—
(You could've dodged when I reached out.)
—and decided against saying anything.
He looked up.
Five figures emerged from behind a massive boulder.
"You didn't sense them?" Dara whispered.
"Not really. Probably a space-type ability," Sion muttered, flexing his hand around the still-warm arrow.
"Tch. Wrong call," one of them muttered.
An orange-haired girl with a bow—clearly the one who had fired the shot.
"We can see that," said a spiky-haired boy next to her.
"Who are they?" a voice called out from behind the rocks.
"Nothing, just some rookies," the spiky-haired one replied lazily. "A couple, apparently."
"They're probably looking for an empty place to bang," another added—a bulky student wearing dented silver armor.
"Let them go," the voice came again, casual but firm.
"Yes, boss," the five replied in sync.
The bow girl flicked her hand at Sion and Dara. "You two can go tangle or whatever."
Dara's eyes narrowed. "We can go? Who do these little freaks think they are?"
"I don't know," Sion shrugged calmly.
"Oh, you guys think you're big shots?" the spiky-haired one snarled, stepping forward.
"Eww," Dara retched exaggeratedly. "I can't even stand looking at you."
"What?!" the student recoiled like he'd been slapped. "I'm not that bad, right?" He turned to his team for backup.
"Yes, you are," the bow girl said without hesitation.
The spiky-haired boy gritted his teeth, anger flickering across his face. He tensed, clearly about to charge.
"That would be dumb," said the armored one, voice low.
"Huh?" The spiky-haired boy hesitated, confused.
"She's royalty," the bulky one continued. "Foreign, maybe. But royalty. You can tell. And him—he's probably betrothed to her or something. That kind of match only happens if the guy's an outstanding youth."
He gestured subtly at Sion.
"Also, you did notice he caught Rachael's arrow like it was a twig, right?"
The spiky-haired boy frowned. "You saying I'd lose?"
"No," the bulky one said. "I'm saying you'd waste energy. And right now... we need every scrap of it just to survive."
At the sidelines, Sion and Dara shared a confused glance.
"What's going on?" Dara whispered.
"I don't know," Sion shrugged again.
"You never do," Dara sighed.
"What?!" Sion was flabbergasted.