He climbed up the tallest tree he could find and settled atop its thickest branch.
While he rested there leisurely, it was almost hard to believe he was still in the middle of completing the task he had agreed to, scanning the forest.
But as the cube required for that very task drifted through the undergrowth below, moving according to his Authority, there was no denying it.
"ADA, contact Clarisse for me."
Cosmo's A.D.A. orb floated out of his pocket and perched itself on a branch conveniently positioned just above his head.
"I just want to talk to her."
<"...was the genesis of time. The firmament declared freedom within the expanse. And so, light again shall herald the end, when the firmament hath made way for the truth to peer. How then, lost soul, shall you hide away?">
"Well, that's grim. I was wondering how you usually passed the time, but that's unexpected, even for you."
<"I don't believe what I sing on my own time is of your concern.">
"I beg to differ. I had to hear it after all. No one but you is so comfortable dancing in such existential horror while alone. Where are you anyway?"
<"Why do you ask? Are you starting to miss me?">
"Would you turn back if I said yeah?"
<"No, but I'd wonder why you weren't chasing after me first.">
He chuckled.
"Way to remind me just how highly you value yourself."
<"Actually, my true point was how much I believe you value me. Or at least, my expertise. You usually reach out to me when your mind gets clouded, and you're at your wits end.">
"That's blatantly false."
He stated abruptly, but his supposed rebuttal ended there.
<"You're missing a counter-argument.">
"I have none, but I had to at least deny it to pretend I'm not so shallow."
<"I figured. So, what happened? Are you having trouble with the young ones?">
"Not really. I might be getting the hang of it. In fact, today marked a huge leap forward."
<"How so?">
"I gave up the win for the last round of the 'Chase', and as much as it pained me to do so on a technicality, it might have been the best thing to do. You might come back and find how the remaining few have stopped looking at me like some kind of deviant."
<"Amazing, what a fantastic step forward.">
The manner with which she responded bordered tightly between sarcasm and genuine praise.
"Right?"
However, sarcasm dies in the face of boundless optimism.
<"What was the one wish they settled on.">
"I left them time to mull it over together. But individually, I can take a guess as to what they'd ask for."
Before he realized it, he was sitting up on the branch, unintentionally forcing his A.D.A to drift back into a hovering position to maintain proper distance.
"Blue would probably ask to see what's under my bandages; I can tell by how much she's been staring at them. Red would probably ask me for risky secrets beyond his right, for better or worse, he's a curious kid. Tyson might make me change my approach to training his squadmates, though that one's due to my meddling. And Yon would… Clarisse?"
He noticed that no sound was returning through the orb as his own rambling was starting to bother even him.
<"Don't mind me. Keep going. I'm just listening very attentively.">
"I refuse. I can tell I'm being patronized, and I don't think I like the feeling."
<"Sorry. It just sounded like you were having a lot of fun. I'm quite happy for you. But it also makes me wonder why a part of your breath is attending to a dark thorn.">
He rubbed his temple awkwardly as she waited for a response.
The scanning cube below him flew back up to his hand and flashed in a pattern that signaled error, indicating it had found no abnormalities within the area it had covered.
Considering the sheer amount of the perimeter it had surveyed in such a short time, he concluded it was best to shut it off and suspend the task for later.
"As you'd put it… my sins were once again laid bare."
It was a harsh silence after his words. Speaking out in this manner bothered him to no end, and there was no one available who was caught up on Oliver's grievances with him, making this a potentially risky place to rest with his current burden.
However, his state of mind wouldn't allow him to maneuver through a proper conversation without his heart overflowing.
<"…was it another nightmare?">
"..."
<"Whatever it was, don't forget that it won't leave you alone until you tie it up and portray your bare self.">
"Pfft!"
<"I'm sorry, I didn't think my attempt at consoling you was humorous.">
"Wait, wait, no, sorry. You wouldn't get why that was so funny without the full detail." He wiped away a tear formed by his brief fit of laughter. "But thanks… a lot."
<"Either way, are you sure you're okay?">
"I'll be fine. I just didn't know if I was trying to run away from it again… or running straight toward it. I just know it's not something I can deal with right now. Because of that, I can't let it hinder me."
<"I wish I could help you the way my master did. But alas, I don't possess the knowledge it would take to give you concrete reassurance.">
"Let me guess, is it because you haven't read that book for yourself?"
<"Cosmo–">
"I still don't get it. Sure, it'd be easy for me to say it doesn't matter what symbol you raise with all your heart, what your beliefs and ideals rest on. I wish I could say 'to each their own,' but unfortunately, I'm a boring guy. I can't help asking, what about this book could be worth betting your life on? And why do you keep insisting whatever's in it will help me?"
His tone was neither accusatory nor colored with doubt. It carried genuine curiosity, wrapped in a quiet thread of worry.
<"Did I ever tell you why I chose not to read that book yet?">
"No."
<"Because I wanted to find an authentic answer to that question myself.">
His breath hitched slightly.
"You mean you…"
<"Yes. I wanted to deny this faith, yet it wouldn't die. I was chosen among others far purer than me. A complete mess when I was first taken in. So I relied only on hearsay to reject what I was supposed to be blessed with. By the time I resolved to open that book, my master had gone missing, book and all. Even so, hearsay alone was enough for my Grace to awaken. Grace sprouts within those who believe wholeheartedly in a power. It isn't proof that your faith isn't in vain. An authority born from the will to trust in the 'unseen'? In the end, it suited me perfectly.">
A long sigh drifted out of her.
There had been a hint of hesitation in her early words, but everything that came after was spoken with absolute certainty.
<"My reasoning is this, your authority isn't the only thing worth believing in, Cosmo. There are things outside of yourself that deserve your trust."> She continued, <"Strength exists in having something to lean on, because no one can singlehandedly negate the weight of their actions. Looking outward-in, you start to see that to live is to sin, either by hurting others or having others hurt us. As someone who wholeheartedly wishes to share that burden with you… wouldn't it be wrong of me not to convince you of an alternative answer?">
"I can't."
The words came almost immediately, his answer to far more than the question she asked. Of course he hadn't needed to think about it. His stance had been immovable from the start.
"Letting my actions fall beyond myself won't sit right with me. I reject it. If I commit it with my own hands, then my own hands will have to break as I struggle to pull myself back to zero."
<"That's a very arrogant answer. But what if it's the wrong one? What if the weight crushes you until nothing is left?">
"Then so be it–"
The tree beneath him lurched violently as an intense tremor rippled through the forest.
He steadied himself, catching hold of his A.D.A to prevent any damage, and turned toward the source of the disturbance.
"A hand…?"
Where the distant barrier should have been, something towered, a hand dozens of times wider and three times taller than the surrounding trees, reaching into the sky.
Through the dense night air, he could make out an amalgamation of twisted branches and gnarled roots.
"Damnit, I got careless."
Without a moment of hesitation, and without bothering to pocket the orb, he shot into the air at breakneck speed toward it.
…
There was no warning.
Argenta had fallen asleep in a bag between them sometime after they'd indulged in the thrilling act of tossing her up and down.
Blue had suggested a way for Rita to perform efficiently without worrying about her hair, tying it back just as their Captain did.
Meanwhile, with every single lamp mysteriously going dark, Tyson and Red were attempting to create a light source by harnessing the natural glow of Red's chains. In the process, they discovered something remarkable.
While the chains weren't fully burned through, Tyson's flames clung to them, igniting continuously, almost as if the chains themselves were a fuel source.
They were mid-experiment, careful not to burn anything important, when Rita sat between Blue's legs, her back resting against the stool the latter occupied.
The moment Blue's fingers touched Rita's platinum hair, roots erupted from beneath them, heaving and enveloping them.
Rita vanished as the mass conformed into the shape of a human hand, while Blue managed to cut her way out as the hand rose, but didn't leave entirely. Her left hand remained trapped in the entanglement.
Seeing his sister, Red immediately launched a chain around her other hand, trying to pull her free.
"Sis! What's going on?!"
"Rita's still trapped! I can't get her out!" Blue called back, just as the hand slowly began to return into the ground. If they didn't act fast, rescuing the girls would soon be impossible.
From Blue's warning, they realized Rita was incapacitated, and the only link to her was the desperate grip she maintained within that hand.
Understanding the stakes, Tyson tried to climb after them, only to be met by massive vines that whipped mercilessly.
The vines sprouted endlessly from the giant hand, attacking both of them and threatening to make Red lose his grip on the chain that still held Blue from being swallowed.
He could have used his flames, but the hand had broken the barrier isolating them from the harsh atmosphere. Without Cosmo there to manage them, his flames risked harming his comrades and the environment alike.
"Tyson! Use your flames! It'll be fine!"
He turned toward the voice and saw Oliver carrying Argenta, still swaddled in her sleeping bag, and Yon rushing ahead after snatching up his blade.
"Cascade!"
Yon parried every strike in rapid succession, each motion shattering the tips of the vines.
"Don't worry," he called to Tyson behind him. "It won't matter. I'll cut it off before the flames reach the girls. Just trust me."
Tyson wanted to believe him. If it meant saving Blue and Rita, he had to. But he couldn't ignore how much Yon's hands trembled around his blade.
"Yon–"
"I'm fine," Yon said without hesitation, though his voice quavered. "I don't know what the hell that is, but I've got to help my friends. How I feel, can wait."
He knew he had to respect Yon's resolve, but doing so meant accepting the risk of making the situation far worse. Yet the moment Blue groaned as her hand was cruelly crushed by the branches, Tyson grit his teeth, drew a breath, and ignited both hands in pure crimson flame.
In the same heartbeat, he and Yon surged toward the hand, drawing the attention of the vines away from Red and onto themselves.
Red seized the opportunity, forcing his way toward the trees bordering the clearing to create leverage by winding his chain around their trunks.
As Tyson and Yon pressed forward, each vine they dodged or countered was accompanied by a sonic boom sharp enough to threaten them on its own. It soon became clear that the sonic booms, not the vines themselves, were the hand's primary method of attack, an unnervingly familiar pattern neither of them had the luxury to stop and contemplate. One direct hit would be fatal.
Fortunately, while Tyson could only neutralize the vines through direct destruction, Yon's artifact perfectly countered the devastating shockwaves generated with every strike.
The hand was taking far longer to sink back into the ground than it had taken to erupt from it, an inconsistency that only heightened its mystery.
When they reached its base, Yon wasted no time scaling the structure with startling speed, while Tyson launched a barrage of punches directly into its core.
These weren't simple blows. Compensating for the scarcity of his flames, each impact discharged clusters of detonations, miniature explosions firing off like relentless backfire. Every point of contact erupted in violent bursts.
Sections of the hand flared outward at odd angles under the assault. Multiple points ruptured simultaneously, each breach sending a plume through the dense lattice of roots, vines, and hardened stalks. Yet as quickly as they tore apart, the strands rewove themselves, knitting back together with unnerving precision. The hand was rebuilding itself as fast as it was breaking.
Oddly, the vines did not retaliate against Tyson, the one doing the most damage, but instead scrambled up the structure after Yon.
Seeing this, Tyson intensified his assault, each strike painting the torn plant matter with brief, vicious expansions of heat and force.
Without realizing it, his relentless detonations began turning the hand's regenerative ability against itself. Its core bulged in multiple places at once, swelling as if forced to inhale far beyond what its form could withstand.
A moment later, the entire construct convulsed at its base. A bright flare bloomed through the dense weave, and in the next instant the structure folded outward on itself, detonating in one tremendous exhale.
Yon scrambled to hold on tight as the explosion staggered his progress, then continued onward despite the structure now beginning to topple.
He fought the urge to glance back and identify the cause of the sudden silence, concluding that Tyson had likely fulfilled his role, making it his turn to complete the most important task.
Upon reaching the forearm, where Blue's arm was trapped within the massive fist, Yon immediately prepared to unsheath his blade to cut Rita free.
Blue exhaled in relief at the sight of him climbing toward them, showing not even a flicker of concern for the state of her own crushed hand, nor the rest of her body. She greeted him with a smile as he raised his blade.
However, the moment of impact never came.
"Yon?"
He wasn't moving. His eyes were fixed on something.
His face seized tight as if every nerve had fired at once. His eyes shot wide, his jaw clamped in a crooked, involuntary grind, teeth bared in a strained grimace. He looked utterly panicked.
Down below, Tyson, nearly on his knees and breathing heavily from the strain he had put on his body, caught sight of Yon frozen in place and stared up in confusion. He drew in breath to call out, but that was when everything went horribly wrong.
In all their time within the boundary, they had never seen a single fruit sprout from any tree or plant-life. Yet now he saw hundreds of durian-shaped masses silently descending from above.
Then came a pained scream from Red, followed by the sharp crack of something giving way.
Turning his head, Tyson couldn't tell whether the cracking sound came from a tree being split in two by Red's chain, or from Red's arm being torn out of its socket as the colossal hand instantly regenerated around Blue and yanked away with such speed that Yon was thrown off entirely.
Immediately afterward, the falling fruits began to detonate, splitting apart and firing seeds like shrapnel in every direction faster than bullets. As Tyson sprinted toward Red, who could not even stand, he was riddled with holes, along with everything else in the vicinity.