Cloudy. 9mph winds blowing southeast. Thirty-seven degrees fahrenheit. Rain expected.
Belongings bounced around in the back of the trunk as the car rode along the expansive hills of Nur’s northern plains, the Octane fields. Gradually, the rolling landscape had been flattening, fading from hills to plains that stretched from horizon to horizon. Almost three hours had passed since the encounter with Delvin, and the wounds he left on them still stung. The people he’d taken from them still beckoned.
The sun had long since fallen behind the growing clouds, covering the vast plains with a grayish tint. Though night had yet to fall, it still felt like the sun’s comforting glow had left them for good. Far ahead was the forest at the mountain range’s base, a thick dark sea of pine-like needles that slowly grew closer and closer by the minute. Above them, unseen, a wall of darker clouds was floating towards them.
Grif’s eyes moved from the steering wheel to the fuel gauge on the dashboard. The thin plastic line was wobbling just above the “empty” symbol.
“We’re almost out of fuel,” he pointed. Without hesitation, he let go of the gas pedal and let the car slowly coast to a stop.
The moment the wheels came to a halt, Azer opened the door.
“I’ll get the can,” he offered.
They each hopped out of the car and went around each side to the trunk. Grif pressed a button and it opened with a beep, Azer grabbing onto one of the four spare fuel cans sandwiched between the rest of their hastily-prepared items. The car they were using was an extremely old model—it still ran on liquid fuel. They had no choice—electric cars would be useless in the wilderness without a place to recharge.
Azer made his way to the fuel cap and pressed it open. He began to fill the tank, the fuel’s strong odor filling the cool air.
A drop of rain landed on Azer’s hand.
“Damn,” Azer cursed. “Seriously?”
Another drop hit Azer’s shoulder, and then the top of Grif’s head.
“That’s not good,” pointed Grif.
“Here, that’s enough,” Azer said hastily, throwing the empty can in the back and closing the car’s fuel lid. “We’ve gotta outrun the storm.”
“I don’t think that’s happening,” Grif said, looking up. “It’s coming our way.”
As more and more drops splattered on the roof of the car, the two got in and shut the doors, hearing the pitter-patter of rain on metal. As soon as he was set, Grif hit the gas.
There was a lot of ground left to cover before they would reach even a single tree in the forest ahead, and the sheets of rain visible from far ahead only worsened their prospects of staying dry. As the thumping grew more and more frequent and falling water began to obscure the windows, panic set in. They were trapped.
Grif maintained speed through the increasing downpour, careful not to let the car slip over the unpaved grass plains. The wind began to pick up, whipping along the windshield of the car, shaking the car ever so slightly.
Then, a flash. Far away, a bolt of lighting struck the top of a tree. A couple of seconds later, the sound of thunder rocked the car and wobbled the windows. The rain intensified more and more until it clouded out the expansive forest ahead. Up above, the gray clouds were beginning to swirl, ever so slightly, stirring and rolling like a turbulent sea.
And the rising torrent—the drum-like rhythm of thunder—the swirling sky—it seemed all too familiar.
“There’s no way…” Azer said, dumbfounded.
“There’s nothing else like this,” Grif shot, desperately trying to maintain control of the car.
“The Shades! This is just like The Shades! How?!”
“I know!” Grif agreed.
The sheets of rain were battering the windshield now, like a chorus of drum beats on the glass. It was sensory overload; they couldn’t see or hear anything over the mayhem. The car began to lose control, sliding over the grass on a layer of floodwater. The vehicle continued to shift, the steering wheel rendered useless.
Unable to turn and obscured by the rain, the car slammed into a tree and came to a violent stop, tearing apart the windshield and releasing the airbags. After the shock subsided, they pushed open the mangled front doors and fell onto the soaked grass.
Blood mixed with rainwater dripped down Azer’s head as he tried to right himself and pull to standing, but the shock of the crash made it hard to form a thought, much less walk. Grif, a few dozen feet ahead, managed to get on his feet, trudging his way through the storm and helping Azer up.
They walked to the trunk of their smoking car, grabbing everything recoverable that they could, and moved onward into the ceaseless storm, towards the mountains beyond.
Without a word, they trekked together through the tempest, freezing rain beating on their bodies, the lightning-lit landscape rolling and endless. The water washed away their blood, carrying it into the raging wind.
Tall trees loomed above the two. Hours after the storm began, it had barely died down, instead growing colder and colder as they got closer to the mountain and under the needle-filled sanctuary of the forest.
Upon reaching a drier spot at the base of an evergreen, Grif threw down his items to the damp earth and punched the tree with rage.
“DAMMIT!” he shouted. “God DAMMIT!”
“It’ll be weeks before we can get back at this rate,” Azer stated grimly. “If we can get back now.”
Grif only let out a roar of fury and punched the tree again. All the events of the day, all of the rage, grief, and terror were too much to handle.
“Grif, stop. You’re making your knuckles bleed. There’s nothing we can do now.”
Grif turned back towards Azer, tears and raindrops dripping down his cheeks. He was breathing heavily, a desperate look in his eyes as he gazed helplessly at Azer. Neither of them could say a word.
“Why did it have to be like this?!” Grif shouted. “Why us?! Why our town, why all this?!”
“It’s a curse,” Azer said simply, darkness still in his voice. “This virus is a curse that’s been chasing us for thousands, and thousands, and thousands of years. Both of our species suffered and died at the hands of the Magna virus. It’s a curse we have to break. Both you and I.”
Grif tried to form words, his mouth moving helplessly as he tried to respond.
“Can we even make it?” Grif cried quietly. “Can we still save everyone?”
“All we can do for tonight is rest. Too much has happened today for us to continue like this,” Azer responded.
Grif nodded and then turned to his scattered belongings. Silently, as the last light of day began to fade, they prepared a shelter for themselves under the protective needles of the tree, huddling under blankets and drifting off to sleep.
Grif was woken by a small, sharp coldness on his nose. He opened his eyes slowly.
A white snowflake had landed on the side of his nose, gradually melting on his skin into a drop of frigid water. Aching and sore from the previous day, he moved to sitting, taking in the surprisingly bright landscape in front of him.
Bright white snow coated the landscape between the trees. Previously wet, grassy earth was now buried under a thick coating of snow, turning everywhere but circular patches of brown earth under the trees a stark, beautiful white.
Grif put a hand on Azer’s thick blanket and shook him without taking his eyes off the blanketed forest. Azer woke with a groan and, upon seeing the snow, also got up with a start.
“What in the world?”
“It snowed!” Grif exclaimed. “Real snow! Man, we haven’t seen this stuff in years!”
Both of them were silent for a while, simply taking in the magical sight of dusty white flakes falling from the heavens. All was utterly silent, not even wind was blowing around the peaceful snowfall. The shades of nature had been muted, reduced to simple whites and browns, and the color of the snowy ground and cloudy sky were nearly identical, giving the impression that they had fused together in a bizarre marriage of nature. Azer reached a finger out of the tree’s protective circle and the two watched as a six-sided snowflake landed on it before returning to its liquid form.
“I hardly remember the snow,” Azer commented. “It’s been a really, really long time, I don’t think I was really old enough to appreciate it then.”
“I don’t know about you, but all I remember was that it was really fun.”
“Well, let’s enjoy it after we save the world.”
“Oh, that’s right. We should get going.”
The two geared up, picking their thickest clothing for the snowy weather, and then Grif stepped a boot into the snow outside of the tree they’d been sleeping under.
“But, damn,” Grif said, his shoe sinking into the powdery blanket. “This stuff’s gonna be impossible to walk in.”
Azer followed suit, stepping ankle-deep into the snow.
Over the course of the trek, trudging through endlessly falling snow, the two noticed that the forest at the mountain range’s base was far larger than it had previously appeared, and the snow blocking their path only lengthened their travels, minutes turning into hours and hours turning into days. The monochromatic landscape was disorienting and seemed to stretch in every direction, just white and brown everywhere the eye would land.
The second thing they noticed, even more alarming, was that the snow failed to cease. Since the storm began, now approaching a full week ago, there had been no end to the precipitation in any direction. Sunlight was nowhere to be found anywhere on any horizon, even on top of the scant boulders they climbed. Everywhere, endlessly, was the storm, be it the snow that continued to fall over the mountain they were approaching or the distant rain over Nur.
Azer and Grif were hours into their seventh day, relishing in the fleeting warmth of their winter clothes. They built a small fire under a tree at the end of each day, the nighttime slowly but steadily growing longer and longer with every rotation of the planet. Neither knew exactly what time it was, but the fading grayish light from the clouds above told them nightfall was near.
They’d packed enough food and water for three weeks of travel, but the crash had rendered some of their food inedible and punctured their water bottles. They tried to eat berries between rations, a feat that proved effective earlier on into the journey, but Azer swore some of the berries were starting to glow an infected red. Azer’s fingers went numb after especially long stretches of hiking, prompting the two to make a quick fire with their remaining car fuel before proceeding.
Azer had been trying to ignore the bright red bubbles he’d seen flowing out of tree sap over the last few days while passing thousands of evergreens. He tried his hardest to ignore the fact that the Magna virus was already spreading, infecting one lifeform or another, flora or fauna.
Through the eerie silence of snowfall they walked, step after step, foot ahead of foot. The monotony of it all had dulled the senses, and neither of the two noticed at first the rustling sound from up ahead.
Crack.
Then, unmistakably, they heard the sound of a breaking branch. Azer and Grif stopped dead, listening.
Somewhere ahead, obscured by the snow and trees, something was trudging its way toward their direction. A dark shape slowly came into view, pieces at a time poking out from behind the sheets of stark white.
It was apparent that the creature wasn’t human. It looked as if it was native to the mountain, with four lanky legs and a thick fur coat. It was obviously predatory, baring its bloodstained teeth at them with malice.
“Don’t move,” Grif whispered.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know if it’s noticed us yet. I’ve heard of these things before, they’re called mountain gurats. I have no idea why it’s all the way down here in the forest.”
“Maybe we’re close to the mountain?” Azer guessed.
“Shh. It’s coming closer. Back up a bit.”
The gurat wandered closer, and then stumbled, its face sinking into the snow. Nearby, they could hear its labored breaths and see a large, bright red mass of pulsating Magna on one side of its head. The sight of it repulsed Azer.
All of a sudden, it made a noise and turned its head towards the two. Its eyes were glazed over and it wavered in its place as it observed them.
With a growl, it lunged at them, the two barely dodging out of the way. The creature was taking wild snaps at them as it chased, desperate to sink its teeth into new prey. Azer waited for the gurat to lunge at him once more, and then once it leapt into the air, he landed a well-placed kick onto its side, throwing it away and into the snow.
Belly-up for a moment, Azer noticed a particularly large blob of Magna in the place where its stomach should be. It already looked dead. But it was as if the gurat didn’t feel the blow, because it got back up without a moment’s wait. One of its legs that Azer had dislocated from his kick snapped back into place as if with the aid of an invisible hand. The creature continued its wild attempts to bite and scratch.
“Kill it already!” Grif yelled.
“It’s possessed by the virus somehow!”
“Then kill the virus!”
Azer’s long-lost memories of the S.R.’s healing effects then returned in an instant, and he focused himself. Now, when it lunged, Azer dodged to the side and removed one of his gloves. He aimed a punch at the side of its head, letting his S.R. flow, until it landed with a crack.
Immediately, as the S.R. flowed into the infected gurat, the lump of Magna on the side of its head burned and sizzled away, turning into dire red-black smoke. The gurat flew backwards from the impact, making a groaning noise as the virus burned and bubbled away. The gurat pushed itself to standing and managed one final bite, flying at Azer with its mouth agape.
“One more time!” Azer shouted.
Azer grabbed its head in the air and the Magna burned away again. Finally, the glowing red mass disappeared, and the gurat fell limp to the ground. Azer and Grif approached it, cautiously. It didn’t move. Grif reached a glove down to its neck.
“We were too late,” Grif said quietly. “It’s already dead.”
“W- what? That can’t be! I made sure to-”
“You didn’t kill it,” Grif said reassuringly. “The Magna had already inflicted too much damage. It had to have been keeping the poor thing alive, probably just to spread the virus further.”
Azer was quiet for a moment, observing the gurat with pity. “Can that… can that even happen? The virus, keeping it alive? I’ve never even seen it do that before in my memories.”
“I wouldn’t rule it out. The beast was being controlled by the virus somehow, without a doubt. And it’s pretty clear the Magna has been able to do things no virus should be able to do.”
They stood there for a few more moments, Azer taking a silent moment of grief for the creature. To die in such a way seemed unthinkable.
The light of their seventh day was quickly fading now, the two trying to fit in as much walking as possible before nightfall. But as they trekked, the trees were beginning to grow more sparse, the elevation slowly increasing. It was without a doubt—they were approaching the mountains.
Grif led the two up a small, snowy cliff, steep enough to warrant caution but not enough for the snow to make their climb impossible. The trees around them were getting lower and lower to the ground as they climbed, until, finally, they could see above the canopy.
Before them was a gargantuan mountain, stretching well above the clouds with every inch covered in trees, ice, and snow. They stood just at its foot, elevated enough to make the faraway plains seem low, but they were hardly close to the peak. Pieces of the towering monoliths of rock poked out from behind the blanket of snow, breaking the monotonous two-tone world they had been traversing for the past week.
Grif started, “We’re here.”
“Took long enough.”
Grif fell backwards onto the snow with a thud.
“Whoa, you okay?”
“I’m fine…” Grif wheezed. “Just… very… tired. And hungry. We’ve had a week of walking. Let’s set up camp. I’m not ready to climb a mountain today.”
Small orange flecks of ember floated silently through the air over the fire, dancing in the cold winter air before landing on a nearby patch of ground of snow and turning to black. The flames illuminated Azer where his face belonged, a sanctuary of warmth that the two shared at the end of each exhausting day.
Several more days had passed since they had first reached the mountains. Slowly, they had been approaching the rocky peak, and gradually the air was becoming thinner and thinner. Neither had said a word since the fire was lit, both opting for silence, a rest for their tired selves. Hunger and exhaustion were setting in.
“You know,” Grif started, “we probably aren’t going to be able to get help.”
“I was assuming not. We’re too far out here to be found, anyway. Who’s gonna look for us in the mountains? Hardly anyone from Nur has gone this far out here before.”
“No, not that. Well, yes, that too, we probably aren’t going to get any help reaching the summit or getting back. But what I mean is the whole planet. If this whole endless storm is really like… like a ‘mini Shades’ or something, it’s probably going to be blocking all signals in or out of the planet. I don’t even think the Zystinian government is coming for us.”
“Not to mention ships can’t get in.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Or out. The clouds are probably too thick everywhere to fly anything.”
Another moment of silence. Grif watched some snowflakes fall outside of their makeshift shelter under a large tree. Grif put his backpack on the ground beside him, then placed his head on top of it as a makeshift pillow as he pulled his sleeping bag closer. Azer unzipped his own backpack and pulled out a sheet of paper, silently scribbling on it to the light of the campfire.
“Whacha got there?” queried Grif.
“Makin’ a map.”
“Handy. Been working on it long?”
“Whenever I get the chance. I started a couple days in, you know, so we wouldn’t get lost, but after a while I kinda started enjoying it.”
“Enjoying it? Really?”
“I’m sure it sounds weird, but it’s just kinda fun to be able to map out our surroundings, getting to explore everything and write it out. I used to map out my neighborhood in Nur when I was younger. I made dozens of little maps of that place; I knew every nook and cranny. And I figured, since now we’re deep in the mountains and Manim is just a colony planet—we’re probably exploring somewhere nobody’s ever been before.”
“I guess if you think about it that way, yeah, it is kinda cool.”
“Even though our trip to Arcus Island was short, getting to tread new land was amazing. When Rena, Erril, and I were trying to find you guys, we saw some incredible things. Mapping all that out takes all of that mystery and makes it ours.”
Azer turned his head to the cloud-covered sky for a moment, focused on nothing in particular. Without turning back to the fire, he said:
“You know, I want to try and map the stars someday. Allllll the way out there. Getting to travel through space on the Stormbreaker was amazing. If we can get through all this, that’s what I want to do.”
“Not a bad idea,” Grif agreed.
“And Saa. I’d like to spend some time with Saa if we all survive this.”
“That’s not a bad idea either.” Grif adjusted himself to a more comfortable position. “All I wanna do after this mess is sit down in front of a hot plate of Grand Soman and eat my heart out.”
“You’re telling me,” Azer seconded, turning back to his map. “I’ve never wanted a bite of Grand Soman more.”
“After we save the world though.”
“Right. After that.”
They remained silent, their surroundings in utter silence, save for the scratching of pen on paper and the crackling of the fading fire.
Grif placed his torn, snow-dusted gloves on another rock and pulled himself further upwards. Visibility was but a few feet ahead or behind for the large, wet cloud the two were climbing within. The air was dangerously thin at this altitude, forcing Grif to take frequent breaks of heavy, unproductive breathing at every flat part of rock. Azer was only just behind, faithfully climbing the peak through the stark white cloud.
Then, Grif placed his hand on a flatter surface. He pulled himself up and out of the cloud and onto the mountain’s summit, a peak of bare rock that looked out over everything. Azer pulled himself up just behind, and the two got a view of the mountain range in the dead of night.
The black sky was dotted with hundreds of thousands of stars, no longer obscured by the ceaseless clouds that coated Manim’s atmosphere. Millions of worlds looked down on them alongside the inky, colored streak that was Zysti galaxy, painted from horizon to horizon across the void.
Wordlessly, the two viewed the heavens above, before training themselves back down onto the swimming clouds just beneath them.
A peak ahead was another mountain, the tallest one yet, blueish glowing light emitting from its summit, the clouds that surrounded them pouring out of its raised top like a ceaseless waterfall.
