The man sat at his desk, quietly signing documents until something caught his attention.
He looked toward the wall.
Then stood.
The closer he got, the clearer the sound became.
RRINNG
RRINNG
RRINNG
He pressed a hand against the wall, feeling a loose brick beneath his fingers.
With a sharp pull, he tore it free, revealing a hidden compartment behind it.
RRINNG
RRINNG
RRINNG
Inside rested a strange contraption.
It was wedge-shaped, with a crescent bar attached to its side by a coiled cord.
Twelve sunken buttons lined its surface, each engraved with numbers worn faintly by use.
He lifted the crescent bar. Tiny holes lined both ends of it.
Placing it against his ear, he listened.
"Cønfîrm ñâmē åñd löçåtïøñ."
The voice didn't sound human.
Still, he answered immediately.
"Tonir Baylex. Harzia."
Silence followed.
Then:
"Cønfîrm päßphråšē."
"******************"
A sharp click echoed from the other side.
Minutes passed in silence.
Then another click sounded through the device.
"Tonir Baylex, current mayor of Harzia."
This time the voice belonged to a person.
Male. Older. Controlled.
"For the duration of this conversation, you will answer only with 'yes' or 'no' unless instructed otherwise. Is that clear?"
"Yes," the mayor replied.
"Several days ago, you crossed paths with a messenger transporting a troublesome package. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"In the course of our investigation, we discovered said messenger did not originate from Solax. Furthermore, you and several other mayors passed him among yourselves without proper process or endorsement from the Messenger Guild."
A brief pause followed.
"Is this true?"
"The—"
"That was a yes or no question."
"…Yes."
"Good. Answer quickly and truthfully."
A brief pause followed.
"Did you, by chance, request a personal task from this messenger?"
Silence.
"I repeat: did you request a personal task from this messenger?"
"…Yes."
"You may now answer with more than 'yes' or 'no.' What request did you make?"
"I asked him to confirm the rumors surrounding Glavog Jungle."
A moment passed.
"Glavog Jungle no longer exists."
The mayor felt his throat tighten.
"You are to return to answering with 'yes' or 'no' only going forward. Did the messenger return?"
"N-No."
Tonir genuinely didn't know what had happened to the jungle.
"The messenger in question came into contact with something he should not have."
The voice remained perfectly calm.
"He will now be charged with treason."
The mayor's eyes widened.
"It is also to our understanding that, had you and several others followed proper protocol, circumstances may have differed."
Another pause.
"However, we also understand the reasons that drove you to act outside procedure."
The man's voice never changed.
"And because of that, you and the others will be granted the opportunity to resign."
"…What?"
"I did not ask a question, nor was that a 'yes' or 'no' response."
The silence that followed felt suffocating.
"You and the others will resign from your positions within the next month. During that time, replacement mayors will be selected."
A soft click echoed faintly through the device.
"Failure to comply will result in less favorable outcomes."
Another pause.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Do you have any questions?"
"No," the mayor replied, fully aware that none of the questions he truly had would be answered.
"Have a nice day, Tonir Baylex."
With a final click, the device went dead.
The mayor slowly placed the crescent bar back onto the main body of the machine.
For a moment, he simply stood there in silence.
***
KNOCK.
KNOCK.
"Come in," Lior replied, eyes still fixed on the map spread across the wall of his office.
Kalen stepped inside.
"The search party's ready to head out."
"Alright then. Don't stray too far from the usual routes," Lior said. "I don't want anyone else going missing."
"Of course, sir," Kalen replied.
Lior's attention drifted.
But not toward the map.
"Kalen."
He tossed a key toward him.
"Lock the door."
Kalen caught it instinctively, surprised by the sudden change in tone.
Without another word, Lior moved toward his desk and slowly lowered himself beside it.
Then he pressed an ear against the floorboards.
His expression changed immediately.
Shock.
Lior suddenly pried the boards open, revealing a rotting ladder descending into darkness below.
He glanced back at Kalen and motioned for him to follow.
By then, the office door was already locked.
They climbed down the ladder carefully, its old wood creaking and groaning beneath their weight as though threatening to snap at any moment.
"I'm sure I don't need to tell you that very few people know about this place, Kalen," Lior remarked as he stepped off the ladder.
"No, sir."
Kalen followed after him and looked around.
Aside from the opening above them, the room was completely sealed. Metal lining covered every wall. There were no windows, no visible entrances, and no clear source of light.
Then he heard it.
A faint chiming sound.
Kalen turned toward Lior, who was already heading toward the far wall.
"What exactly are we doing here?"
"I've been head of the Messenger Guild in Dorvel for fifteen years," Lior said quietly. "Not once have I heard this sound."
He approached a rectangular metal cabinet resting atop a short table.
Its chest-high faceplate was crowded with analog meters, switches, and mechanical dials. Thick woven wires crawled upward along the wall, disappearing somewhere into the darkness overhead.
Lior reached for a heavy U-shaped headset made of spring steel, hard rubber cups fixed at both ends.
He pulled it over his ears, shutting out the silence of the room.
At first, there was only static.
A deep rushing hiss.
Then—
A sharp whistle cut through it.
Rhythmic. Piercing.
A frantic pattern of dits and dahs rising and falling against the noise.
Lior immediately grabbed a pen and sheet of paper, hurriedly writing the sequence down.
Kalen stood silently behind him, watching as Lior listened to the strange song of the machine before them.
***?? days ago***
The sky darkened beneath thick storm clouds, painting the jungle in a deep, sickening gray.
Not a single drop of rain had fallen yet, but the wind still howled through the trees as lightning danced overhead.
A man sat calmly atop a fallen tree trunk.
He looked to be in his thirties—short beard, brown hair, and pale silver-violet eyes with a glassy sheen that seemed to glow faintly through the mist.
Those eyes remained fixed on the figure before him.
Its crest caught the flashes of lightning overhead.
Pale. Cold.
Its ghostly blue skin stretched over a frame easily seven feet tall.
"Why did you wait?" the figure asked.
The man continued tracing lines into the dirt with a stick before answering.
"The moment I realized you were coming, you already knew where I was."
He gave a faint smile.
"I can't outrun you."
The figure slowly circled the man.
"Where are the others?"
The man gave no response.
The creature stopped behind him.
"Speak, Soiran. Perhaps you may live."
Rakreim leaned closer until his face was barely an inch away from the man's.
"Where are the rest of your kind?"
Its voice lowered.
"I will not ask again."
The man remained completely unfazed.
"You speak a lot… for an Azryx."
His brow furrowed slightly.
What's driving it? he wondered.
Rakreim stepped back.
THWACK
A nearby tree crashed to the ground.
With effortless strength, Rakreim dragged the trunk behind him and sat across from the man.
Silence followed.
Only thunder disturbed it.
Then the sky finally opened.
Rain poured heavily through the jungle canopy, drenching both of them within seconds, yet neither moved from the freezing downpour.
"Why are you here?" Rakreim asked again, calmer this time, though irritation still lingered beneath his voice.
"Do you seek solitude so badly?"
The man gave no answer.
"Your silence is not noble."
Rakreim's pale eyes narrowed slightly.
"It is merely delay."
A flash of lightning illuminated the jungle around them.
"That does not mean you will give me what I seek."
Another low rumble of thunder followed.
"But it does mean I will eventually have it."
Still, the man remained silent.
Rakreim tilted his head slightly.
"Where is your food? Your shelter?"
Its gaze moved across the rain-soaked jungle.
"I was under the impression natives carried such things with them."
The man still didn't answer.
At this point, he genuinely couldn't tell whether the creature before him was trying to understand him…
or simply enjoyed hearing its own voice.
"Earlier, I met a distasteful acquaintance. His companion was worse—truly an abominable creature. I was… bewildered that he would travel with such a thing, wearing native skin."
The man's brow twitched slightly.
He still couldn't understand why an Azryx was attempting conversation.
"Did I gain your interest?" Rakreim asked.
Silence.
"Would you like a deal?"
The man's eyes narrowed.
He had never heard of an Azryx offering anything resembling a bargain.
"You ask a question. I ask one in return."
Rakreim extended his hand.
The limb looked almost human—but only almost. The fingers were too long, too precise, edged with something closer to claws than nails.
"What stops us from lying?" the man asked.
"Nothing," Rakreim replied simply.
Then, without hesitation:
"Take my hand."
"No."
"Why?"
"Machrutia."
Rakreim froze.
A strange sound escaped him—something close to a laugh, but wrong. It cut off almost immediately.
His tone dropped back into seriousness.
"I have nothing to gain. You have a great deal to lose. Why should I accept this?"
"Simple," the man replied. "Because you want to."
A faint smile tugged at his expression.
"You're already excited. I can feel it. And you don't even care how I know what it means."
"If you wanted to die, you should have requested it."
"I just did."
"Then set the terms."
The man didn't move, but his thoughts sharpened.
He wants information on the others. I can't give it. I can't run either. He probably can't take it from me directly unless he wants to kills me outright…
His eyes stayed on Rakreim.
So I'll make him do it.
Machrutia… if he remembered correctly, it didn't have a direct translation. But it resembled something like a duel—
The weaker party initiates it to gain favor.
The stronger accepts for entertainment.
Only one known recorded case existed.
Most dismissed it as myth.
Yet here it was.
And Rakreim…
was smiling like he had been waiting for exactly this.
"We start in ninety seconds. If I make it through, you answer my questions and let me leave. If you win, I tell you what you want."
The man's voice remained firm despite the rain pouring over them.
"Is that all?" Rakreim asked.
The man gave a silent nod.
They stood facing one another as rainwater dripped from their bodies into the mud below.
No sound followed.
Then—
BROOG-GRD-GRD
Rakreim struck.
The man barely raised his arms in time.
The impact blasted him backward through the trees, trunks splintering apart as his body tore through the jungle.
Rakreim's eyes drifted toward his own hand.
"You're quite skilled at that," he remarked.
His gaze sharpened.
"How long can you maintain it?"
The man steadied himself against the last remaining tree behind him.
Not a single bruise marked his body.
Lightning split the sky once more as Rakreim closed the distance between them.
The man grabbed hold of a nearby tree.
A tremor rippled through the trunk as it bent unnaturally to his will, swinging between him and Rakreim's incoming strike.
It wasn't nearly enough.
Rakreim's arm tore straight through the tree.
The shattered trunk dragged both of them downward as splinters exploded into the rain-soaked air.
THOOM
The man's fist connected cleanly with Rakreim's jaw.
Rakreim's head turned slightly with the force.
Then his arm twisted free from the ruined trunk and his elbow slammed directly into the man's chest.
The Soiran skidded violently across the mud.
Rakreim immediately followed with another punch.
The man barely dodged, the strike obliterating the ground beside him as he countered with a sharp uppercut.
Rakreim retaliated instantly.
A kick drove into the man's side hard enough to launch him straight through another tree.
Rakreim whipped his arm outward, fingers locked into a rigid blade.
The edge of his palm sliced toward the man's head with a heavy, resonant impact.
He missed.
Barely.
The tree behind the Soiran split cleanly in two.
The man was already low to the ground.
He rose sharply, driving a punch into Rakreim's abdomen.
Rakreim's body shifted only slightly.
Then both of his hands came together violently, aiming to crush the Soiran's skull between them.
The man moved at the last possible moment.
Not far enough.
BOOM
The sound alone rattled his brain.
Before he could fully recover, Rakreim grabbed his head and drove it straight into a rising knee.
THUD
Then he hurled him deeper into the jungle.
Trees snapped apart. Wildlife scattered wildly through the storm as the Soiran crashed through the undergrowth.
The Soiran slowly pushed himself back to his feet, still panting heavily.
He glanced behind him.
Something large had broken his fall.
A doel, perhaps.
Its flesh was too mangled to identify properly anymore.
Blood still refused to cling to his body.
No bruises marked his skin.
Yet his head continued throbbing violently from the earlier impact.
Rakreim approached more slowly this time.
Walking.
Not rushing.
Something close to relief rested on his features now, accompanied by a hollow smile.
The Soiran's eyes narrowed.
The ground trembled.
A wide cone-shaped section of earth in front of him suddenly gave way, splitting apart beneath Rakreim's feet.
Cracks spread rapidly through the soaked jungle floor as the Azryx sank downward.
Rakreim looked down, almost surprised.
A foot crashed into the side of his head.
THUD-UD
The impact echoed strangely, like two strikes layered together.
Rakreim sank deeper into the collapsing earth as he grabbed onto the crumbling edges for leverage.
"Do you truly believe this is enough?" he asked.
The Soiran gave no answer.
He simply stepped back, watching the earth swallow Rakreim whole.
But he already knew.
It would not be enough.
He turned and ran through the jungle, eyes darting frantically through the storm as though searching for something.
The tremors stopped, but the ground still rumbled softly.
A hole formed as the creature emerged, its ghostly blue body coated in dirt and mud, both slowly washed away by the softening rain.
The Soiran wove through the trees, some of them wrapped in twitching vines. He continued forward, feeling the Azryx claw its way out behind him.
Rakreim didn't seem to give chase.
He simply walked in the Soiran's direction.
Vines slithered around the trees, snapping toward Rakreim the moment he drew close enough.
They wrapped around his body, completely enveloping him as they secreted a burning fluid.
The plant tried to consume him.
Only his hands, feet, and eyes remained exposed, but soon those too disappeared beneath the writhing mass.
Then he moved.
One leg stretched backward while the other bent sharply, his knee rising toward his abdomen. His fingers touched the ground.
The trees around him—and countless more behind him—gave way.
BGOOOM
Ahead, the Soiran spotted a clearing and headed straight for it.
Then he heard it.
A sound like thunder.
But no lightning had struck.
BLAACM-GM
Something that felt like a giant palm slammed into his back.
The force launched him through the trees before driving him headfirst into the clearing.
His skull punched a clean hole into the earth.
Rakreim had practically launched himself.
This time, the man felt the impact all too well.
Blood trickled down his face, pooling in the hole where he lay.
He remained motionless.
Rakreim approached the crater slowly.
Hisheartis stillbeating, though, he thought.
Rakreim crouched and stretched a hand toward the Soiran's body.
The man's arm shot upward.
His hand went straight for Rakreim's throat.
But Rakreim was faster.
He snapped his head downward, allowing the Soiran's hand to enter his mouth.
His teeth clamped down on the Soiran's wrist.
The man grunted in pain.
Then he smiled.
BLUUUBG
Blood and fragments of Azryx flesh erupted across the clearing.
The back half of Rakreim's head vanished in an explosion of gore.
Pieces of bone and tissue scattered across the jungle floor and nearby trees.
The Soiran panted heavily.
Then he sighed in relief.
He pushed himself to his feet.
But when he tried to pull his arm free, it wouldn't move.
Rakreim's jaws remained locked around his wrist.
The Soiran froze.
His eyes drifted toward the blood.
It wasn't spreading randomly.
The liquid moved with purpose.
Threads of blood crawled through the mud toward the scattered fragments.
The pieces began reconnecting.
Returning.
Reforming.
Back into Rakreim's body.
"Shit..."
The man's stomach dropped.
"It's a stage 3."
Something tightened around his wrist.
Pressure.
Pain.
Rakreim's teeth sank deeper.
The bite crushed through bone.
With a violent jerk, Rakreim tore the man's hand clean from his arm.
The Soiran grunted and staggered backward.
Blood poured from the stump.
Clutching it tightly, he turned and fled into what remained of the jungle.
Rakreim's head reformed within moments, consuming the Soiran's severed hand still lodged in his mouth.
The man ran as fast as he could, sealing the path behind him with walls of trees slick with sap and rainwater.
GBOOM
It was futile.
A gust of wind tore past him, destroying everything in its path.
The man stopped, still panting heavily.
He looked up at the figure standing before him.
Rakreim stood as tall as ever, looking as though nothing had happened.
"If you had met another, perhaps you would have made it through," Rakreim remarked as he approached.
The Soiran stopped applying pressure to his wound, allowing blood to flow freely from the stump.
Rakreim seized him by the head.
Yet their skin never touched.
A thin, transparent layer seemed to exist between them.
Rakreim dragged the Soiran through the jungle, ramming his head through tree after tree without releasing his grip.
Branches snapped.
Trunks shattered.
Blood stained the rain-soaked earth.
"Why?" Rakreim asked, his skin still unable to make contact.
"Why Machrutia?"
"You should have known you could not win the moment I asked for your hand."
"You..." the man breathed between ragged gasps.
"...overestimate me."
"Or perhaps..."
"...I underestimated you."
He coughed.
"I was being cautious..."
"...that's why I didn't want to make contact."
In truth, he had never expected Rakreim to be this powerful.
And he knew Rakreim had never taken him seriously.
Rakreim's gaze shifted to the bleeding stump where the man's hand had once been.
"You wish to die here."
"There wasn't..."
"...really any other option."
"Yet you wished to battle."
"Nothing but..."
"...a desperate thought."
Lightning danced across the sky once more.
For a brief moment, the world was illuminated.
The scattered remains of trees stood like broken monuments amidst a sea of blood and splintered wood.
Glavog Jungle barely resembled a jungle anymore.