Shawnee National Forest
While Ambrose and certain individuals plotted with mundane Hunter skirmishes… Several miles away, gods among humanity acted for the first time in years.
Under the thick cover of the forest trees and the setting dusk above, Wukong landed—geared up in a form fitting black outfit.
His senses stretched outward, immediately picking up strong traces of aether. One that could only come from a being beyond SS-Rank.
He sniffed into the evening air, his boots crunching hard against the moss. "That thing was around here." Came his soft observation.
Then he braced himself before leaping hundreds of meters into the air. Once he was high enough he stopped, seemingly unaffected by gravity for a few seconds.
"Any luck from your end, Yemoja?"
At another end of the forest miles away, Yemoja stood at the middle of a river. Her long silver grey curls swayed into the wind as she gracefully touched the waters.
