Zion and Grace breathed heavily. 

Grace questioned, "What should we do, Zion? I don't think the villagers over there will be friendly to strangers, even more so if they figure out we're otherworlders. And-and gravity seems stronger."

"Yeah, yer right. But your old man here is a Half-Blood. There ain't no way whatever they have is enough to stop me."

And so they went, curious about the planet's inhabitants. 

worried, Grace muttered, "We'll be seen, the land is flat."

"Doesn't matter."

"What if they have some weaponry you've never heard of?"

"Simply won't happen."

Grace began breathing quicker and quicker till even Zion was concerned. When the village seemed close, Grace fell to his knees and clenched his hands. It felt like a chain was tightened around his lungs. Beads of sweat formed on his face as his heart throbbed. 

The world around him turned into a kaleidoscope of colors, and Zion's voice became just a dampened sound. Just as he was about to faint, he remembered his mother's words: "Do not stop. Move forward till you make it, whether it be in something grand or something small."

It was a flawed philosophy, but it had worked for most of his life. Hence, he got up after falling yet again. 

Clearing his mind, Grace continued.

"You sure yer okay, 'cause you damn well don't look like that."

Zion was slightly, just slightly worried about the boy who had seen far too much, enough to shake even a Half-Blood. Zion thought that Grace's psyche was practically just glued together as it would crumble otherwise.

Grace nodded.

"Huh? Could you speak?"

"I'm okay."

The architecture of the village seemed strange. Firstly, it was obvious that there were no Contemplators in the sky to cause heavy rains, as evidenced by the flimsy huts made from chestnut colored wood. Secondly, why were there so many bloodied steel spikes? Next to the door of every house, there was a spike about the size of an average forearm instead of a house number, name plate, etc. The spikes gently curved upwards, and some of them had blood on them. 

No living thing could be seen, but there were a few watch towers also made of wood. That was all he could see from that far away, so he needed to get closer.

When they reached the village, there was no one to greet them. Grace raised his eyebrows and began looking around while Zion laughed. He noticed that wooden tablets were hanging on all of the doors with carvings on them in a  language or something. The carvings felt like a language because there seemed to be a strange consistency to them. Most symbols were made of a complex combination of short, straight strokes and large dots. Windows were rare in the village, with most of the huts having holes with a diameter of no more than five millimeters instead.

"Don't wander around too much, kid. This is a test for you."

"I understand." He, in fact, did not understand. However, he soon found out the reason Zion said that.

A door creaked open near Grace. The one who came out was a tall, thin man with a droopy face, neatly combed hair and eyes that looked like buttons. He was clad in a simple, white buttoned shirt and black pants, but to Grace's shock, he had no shoes.

Of course, he spoke what seemed like gibberish to Grace and Zion.

Zion whispered to Grace, "You still haven't realized, kid? well, it doesn't matter. Anyway, exactly do what I do and do not be scared, I know what to do when on a foreign planet."

The man gave up when he understood that they couldn't comprehend what he was saying. 

Then, he pointed to a hut. Specifically, the hole-like window of a hut. He waved his hands around to emphasize what there was inside.

Grace gulped and became wide-eyed when he finally noticed why there was no one outside in the village as many men rushed out of the huts, leaving the doors open.

There were people inside with weirdly shaped rifles. Some of them aiming from the doorframes, and others from the holes in the huts.

Their number was in the hundreds, each one holding a rifle and without shoes.