Miktik's workshop is empty, which is more or less what I was expecting, though I was hoping it wouldn't be. I look around, trying to glimpse any signs of activity. It doesn't look like anyone's been here since the last ti we convened in the area.
"Think Bimar's back at the lab?" I ask out loud, glancing at Ahkelios.
"That, or she hasn't had enough ti to get here," Ahkelios points out. "It's only been about an hour."
"Right," I say, slightly embarrassed. It feels like it's been a lot more than an hour, but maybe that's because of the number of things happening around . Guardian of Fate isn't giving anything new, either about Tarin or about Bimar, which ans that for the ti being I have... nothing to do.
Well, not really. I have plenty I can do, but Guard isn't awake yet, and I don't intend to bring Whisper in this loop since that allows to act without worrying about her listening in. Miktik's workshop is secure, but not secure enough that I'm willing to risk trying to phase-shift right here and now.
Now's probably the best ti for to test out strategies to clear the raid. If Guard and Whisper aren't able to help as much as I hope, I'll need to make sure I have a fallback of so sort.
...so I go outside and begin to fill the air with Tistrikes. As many as I can without depleting my Firmant, anyway.
Ahkelios just watches , bemused. "Are you sure this is going to do anything?"
"Nope." I Tistrike the air again, in the rough trajectory of a teor, and watch as the teor enters its path. "But I'm also using this to figure out the timing of these things."
Sure enough, the teor crosses the path of my Tistrike the sa mont it activates. There's a muffled roar of pain, and I feel the Firmant in the teor snap abruptly, dissipating into nothing; the object that then falls to the ground is nothing but dead rock that bounces harmlessly off the crystalline building it encounters.
"Huh," Ahkelios says, watching . "Nice."
"Thank you." I glance at Ahkelios. "Any chance you want to talk about whatever's bothering you now?"
Ahkelios winces a bit. "...Later," he says, his voice a little guarded. "Let's get this raid over with first."
"If that's what you want." My gaze is a little concerned, and I can feel Ahkelios withdrawing into himself slightly. But I trust the little guy, and I can wait for him to be ready.
I can't deny that I miss Tarin's presence, though. The old crow would probably tell Ahkelios to get it out already.
I return a few hours later to Miktik's workshop, frowning a little when I see that it's still empty. There's no sign that either Bimar or Miktik have even tried to return—no trace of their Firmant anywhere surrounding the place.
I share a disgruntled look with Ahkelios. We take a mont more to make sure, then head back to the lab, hoping to find her there, but... Bimar isn't there, either.
The third and final place to check is the Integrator scrapyard—"to the north", as Bimar declared. The raid itself hasn't ended yet and won't end until every last person in Isthanok is dead, and according to Guardian of Fate, none of my friends are at risk of dying yet. I've got ti to figure out what's going on.
Of course, Guardian of Fate also doesn't seem to know what's going on with Miktik, and now it seems equally confused about Bimar. That's enough to tell sothing's very wrong.
"Do you think they're okay?" Ahkelios asks. He grips at the collar of my shirt, little hands buzzing with worried Firmant. "It's weird that your skill can't reach them."
"I don't know," I admit. I reach up to pet him, more out of reflex than anything else. For a mont, I'm worried he'll find the act condescending, but instead he leans into my fingers.
"I never had friends during my loops," Ahkelios says quietly. "It didn't seem like a good idea. I an, every ti I looped..."
"Oh, we humans are known to get attached too easily," I say dryly. "I figured that was a lost cause before I even started."
"I wish I had," Ahkelios admits. He goes silent again after, and I get the sense that that's as much as he's willing to say on the matter for now. It gives a better idea of what's been bothering him, at least.
"Co on," I say. I try to make my voice encouraging. "Let's go find the scrapyard. I bet they're both waiting for us there."
I find the door that Bimar ntioned first: just as she said, it's a massive door made of Firmant and steel, towering over all the trees in the area. I'm surprised I haven't seen it before, honestly, but there's a thin sheet of perception-bending Firmant in a do around the area that tells why.
I steal a bit of that Firmant for my own use. Seems like sothing I might want to incorporate into a skill one day, and it's not dissimilar from what the frogs seem to do with their invisibility Firmant.
"Ethan!" Ahkelios calls. There's a note of panic in his voice—enough that I hurry over to him. My eyes widen when I see what he's staring at.
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Bimar and Miktik. They're both wearing the protective suits Miktik told was necessary for the scrapyard. The suits look remarkably like diving suits. The deep-water kind, with a bulbous helt and thick, protective armor.
They're also both very dead.
"I an," Ahkelios says doubtfully. "At least you were right...?"
"About them waiting for us?" I ask dryly, kneeling down beside Bimar's body. "I can't say I like being technically correct here."
Neither does Ahkelios, I can tell, despite his poor attempt at levity. "How'd they even die?" he asks. "I can't see anything..."
"Neither can I," I mutter. There's no external damage to their suits, as far as I can tell—nothing that makes it look like they've been attacked. The armor's perfectly intact, and maybe a little more disturbing is that there's no sign of any kind of struggle. It looks more like they fell asleep than like they were killed.
Maybe sothing about the Firmant within the scrapyard got to them? If the conditions within the scrapyard were sohow worse, beyond the protective rating of the suits, it might explain why they're both dead with no sign of a struggle.
"Do you think they're fully dead?" Ahkelios asks quietly. There's a tight tension in his voice—a worry that I admittedly was trying not to voice myself.
If anything killed them here, it's likely to be Firmant damage of so kind. And of all the different types of damage you can co back from, Firmant damage is the one that's most likely to be permanent.
"I don't know," I answer honestly. "I hope not."
" too."
"For what it's worth, it doesn't feel like..." I hesitate. "I've haven't spent much ti examining the Firmant of dead bodies or anything, but usually there's sothing about the basic structure of their Firmant that's torn up. Miktik and Bimar feel... fine. Their Firmant is gone, but the container holding it isn't damaged, if that makes sense."
"If you say so." Ahkelios hops back up onto my shoulders. "I've never been able to feel Firmant like you can, so..."
"Only one way to find out, right?" I say gently. I hold my hand out so Ahkelios can hop into my palm instead—it's the only way for to 'hold' him. He's heavier than the last ti I did this. The weight of his Firmant is strong enough now that I can feel him.
He hugs , and I quietly wrap my other hand around him. Neither Bimar nor Miktik were particularly close to us, but I sense that this is about more than just them, for Ahkelios.
Strangely, the Void Inspiration within also stirs.
hungry, it says quietly.
Not now, I tell it, but I sense sothing strange from it. Like... denial, but not the kind I'd expect. A correction.
not as hungry now, it tells . why?
Odd. I don't know, I tell it. But I told you I'd feed you new things, didn't I?
yes. The Inspiration sounds oddly thoughtful. new.
It recedes and grows silent once more, and I put the strangeness of that interaction out of my mind for now. It's about ti for to reset the loop, but before I do, I make one last sweep to make sure I haven't missed anything. I could try to enter the scrapyard myself, but it feels... risky. I have to manually trigger the Once More into the Fray skill—if the scrapyard kills before I have a chance to react, as seems to be the case with Bimar and Miktik, then I'm just going to lose the raid.
Too much of a risk to take, for now. Better to ask Bimar to change her approach, as long as she's still alive in the next loop. If she isn't...
...Well, if she isn't, then there's no point trying to save either of them. They're already gone.
Nothing wrong with the bodies or the suits, as far as I can tell. The strangest thing about this place is the door to the scrapyard and the Firmant I can feel surrounding it. There's sothing about it that feels wrong, for lack of a better word—out of alignnt with everything else.
Phaseslip makes everything a little bit clearer, but not by much. It's like there's Firmant just on the edge of my vision, and Phaseslip brings it a little closer. Unlike with the Ringmaster, however, the distance covered by a Phaseslip isn't nearly enough to see whatever's going on here. I'm guessing that if I want to access the scrapyard, I'm going to have to open the door.
Not sothing I'm going to do yet.
I can't help but hesitate, though, lingering at the entrance for a long mont before activating Once More into the Fray.
The scrapyard is a step toward the Integrators. It's a step toward figuring out how to get to them, and through them, figuring out how to get to Gheraa. It's a step toward figuring out what even happened with him. I can't deny that crossing the threshold is tempting, if only because this feels like a place with answers. More than even Gheraa gave .
It's funny. Gheraa was more irritating than anything when I first t him, and if I'm being honest, I haven't had a lot of ti to get to know him. The short periods of ti we et in during each Inspiration is hardly enough ti to get to know soone, especially when we're both being watched.
But what he did for here—making sure I have a chance against a raid that would have slaughtered everyone I've co to know in the loops...
I want to know that he's all right. I can't help but hope that he found so way around whatever was coming for him. He's crafty enough to get all this past the rest of the Integrators to begin with, after all; if anyone can fake his own death, he can.
There's a part of that's worried that I'll find his body behind the door. It's called a scrapyard, but who's to say that the Interface translation captured all the nuances of the word in its original language? For all I know, it's also a graveyard.
"Uh, Ethan?" Ahkelios prompts. He looks over my shoulder, toward the bodies, and I get a distinct feeling across our bond—he doesn't want to stay here any longer than necessary.
"Right," I say, shaking off the despondence lingering over my thoughts. Not sure why they got so dark all of a sudden. Sothing to do with the Firmant here, maybe. I refocus: I need to figure out what happened to Bimar and Miktik, and I need to finally catch up with Tarin.
I'm missing the old bird already. Hopefully, I'll find him and Guard both intact and ready to go.
"Let's go, 'Kelios." I lift my hand up to my shoulder, and Ahkelios hops back onto it, though the perch is a little awkward for him now. He responds with a chirp, his hands clinging on to my shirt, and I feel ti whirl backward around as I once more activate a skill.
Once More into the Fray.
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