The crew walked for hours without rest, their progress a steady, unbroken rhythm against the barren earth. Even after the sun had sunk completely below the horizon, bathing them in the profound darkness of a moonless night, they did not stop. Their forms were silhouettes against the star-dusted sky, moving without a sign of fatigue.
As they walked though, Orion began to feel a peculiar and discomforting sensation. He felt his eyes becoming tired, a dry, gritty ache that grew with every passing minute. It wasn't the normal fatigue of someone who needed sleep; it was as if he was overstraining them, pushing them to see in a way they were not meant to. There was a dull throb behind his eyeballs that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. The darkness, which should have been a uniform blanket, seemed instead to be a tapestry of faint, shifting greys and whispers of light his straining vision tried and failed to properly interpret. Confused and starting to get worried, he reached out internally, asking Pawn for help.
"The eyes of the All Consuming Sky have been enhanced by their awakening earlier today," Pawn's voice echoed in his mind, calm and analytical, a stark contrast to Orion's building worry. "But although their quality has improved, the body of the All-Consuming Sky is yet to adapt completely to the changes, causing their eyes to feel overstrained from the constant influx of stimuli." The explanation was clinical, devoid of emotion, yet it illuminated the problem perfectly. It seemed like Sparking his Soul didn't come so easily or comfortably after all. His soul had undergone a complete and fundamental change, a metamorphosis into something new, but his physical body was still lagging behind, a vessel struggling to adapt to its new, more potent powers. Orion wasn't liking it one bit; the pain was a sharp and very unconfortable.
But just as he started to get really uncomfortable, the ache threatening to become a debilitating headache, Pawn came in clutch and started to initiate a change within his body. A cool, soothing sensation washed over his eyes, not from the outside, but emanating from deep within his own skull. "This one will restrain the Enhancements of the All Consuming Sky's body to a more manageable extent. The restraints will be released slowly, in gradual increments, to allow the All-Consuming Sky's physical form the necessary time to adapt and grow accustomed to its new state." It was like a pressure valve being carefully turned, relieving the building strain without cutting off the flow entirely.
"Hah, thank you, Pawn! You're a life saver!" Orion let out a deep sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping as he felt the intense pressure behind his eyes slowly relax, the pain receding to a faint, manageable hum. The world, which had been a blur of stressful sensory input, settled back into a clearer, more comfortable focus
The crew walked for a few more hours, pushing deep into the heart of the night. The initial excitement of the mission began to be replaced by a more mundane exhaustion. His legs started to get tired from the long, relentless walk, a deep muscular burn that spoke of unused muscles being tested. But then, as if sensing this new strain, Pawn loosened the restraints on some of Orion's powers by a fraction. A wave of warmth spread through his legs, not erasing the fatigue completely, but bolstering his endurance, causing the deep ache to slowly subside.
The entire group walked through the night and straight on till the morning, their perseverance unwavering. At which point, as the first hues of dawn painted the sky in shades of violet and gold, they had finally reached the edge of the forest that had loomed in the distance for so long, a dark wall that now towered over them, ancient and imposing.
As they reached the forest's threshold, Ashka raised his hand, bringing the procession to a halt. The light from earlier reappeared, shimmering around his waist. It solidified into a practical, worn leather belt, and hanging from the side of the belt was a simple but sturdy scabbard. Inside rested a sword with a distinctly thick, heavy blade, a weapon designed for power, not finesse. "Here we are, folks. Wilderness," He announced, his tone casual. "Don't get far from the group, keep alert, and any monster that can be avoided, should be." He stopped walking and stared into the dense, shadowy depths of the forest for a few long moments, his hands flowing through the air in front of him in a series of intricate, practiced gestures. He seemed to be moving something in the empty air, manipulating an invisible interface. Orion stared at it, fascinated, and concluded he must be conversing with his own Familiar.
After a few moments of silent communion, he lowered his arm, his decision made. "I have prepared a route for us to follow. It's the most optimal path available, given that there's only four Radiants with us..." At that moment, Ashka's eyes, sharp and assessing, wandered towards Orion, noticing the boy was still pretty energetic. It was an odd scene, a stark contradiction considering he was supposed to be mundane, someone who should be collapsed from exhaustion after a full night's forced march. "Are you okay, kid?"
Orion, however, wasn't paying attention to Ashka's question. Instead, his enhanced eyes, now comfortably adjusted, were wandering around the forest entrance with the most pure form of fascination possible. He was analyzing everything, utterly captivated. The colors were so vibrant, so deep and varied compared to the dull greys and browns of Central's alleyways. The textures of the bark, the moss, the leaves—each was a complex universe unto itself. And the smells! The air was thick with a rich, organic perfume of damp earth, decaying leaves, and living greenery. Since he had never truly been to a forest—no, not just that, he had never been outside the Settlement before, ever in his entire life—being in the Wilderness was more akin to a grand adventure to him than an important life-or-death mission. He was awed at every sight, every sound, every new sensation. At the current moment, Orion was bent down, completely ignoring the others, plucking individual blades of grass off the ground and marveling at their texture and their pure green looks.
He brought one of them to his nose and sniffed deeply. The pungent, sharp smell of fresh grass and chlorophyll entered his nose and seemed to travel through his entire system, a scent so alive it was almost a taste. He couldn't help but smile again in pure, unadulterated glee to be experiencing that simple, profound moment. It was all so new.
When Ashka asked him, he finally turned his head to him, his golden-orange eyes wide with wonder, and nodded enthusiastically. "Couldn't be better, Captain!" Orion beamed a smile, so pure and bright it seemed to shine like a second sun in the middle of the forest.
Ashka, looking at Orion's excited, almost childish figure, felt a wave of stark contrast. It was really controversial, almost wrong. How could someone be smiling so brightly, with such genuine joy, in such a place of inherent danger, pain, and misery such as the Wilderness? The image was actually so shocking, so dissonant with his own grim reality, that it completely escaped his mind—the oddity that a Mundane had supposedly spent a whole night walking without breaking a sweat or showing any sign of fatigue. He instead just scratched the back of his neck, a gesture of bewildered acceptance, and nodded slowly. "Oh, that's good." He turned around to address the group, his focus returning to the task at hand. "Pick up the pace. From this point onward, monsters will start becoming common. Stay sharp."
Orion nodded, getting up from the ground. He stared at the small blades of grass clutched in his hands for a moment, his face a canvas of deep thought, as if contemplating the very nature of this new life form.... Then he shrugged, a quick, decisive motion, and with a curiosity that overrode all common sense, he threw the blades of grass into his mouth and began to chew.
The taste was like nothing he had ever tasted before. It was overwhelmingly green, a burst of earthy, and sharply organic flavor that assaulted his tongue. Until this moment, everything Orion had ever eaten had been synthetic nutrient pastes, bland supplement bars, or scavenged scraps. Occasionally, organic foods did trickle down into the Backalleys, but they were in the large majority infested with maggots, or covered in fuzzy mold, long since spoiled. He had never developed a taste for anything fresh or natural, only for what was merely edible. But now, eating this simple blade of grass, Orion was marveled.
Without a second thought, Orion prepared and spat the thoroughly chewed leaves out onto the ground. "So bitter!" He said, and then, inexplicably, he smiled again. That was horrible to the tongue, an experience he would not soon repeat... but he was so incredibly glad he had tasted it!