Andrew tightened the last strap on his armor.
He made his way to Mella's apartment. Standing outside her door, he knocked firmly, the sound echoing in the stillness of the early morning.
A muffled groan came from inside, followed by the sound of shuffling footsteps. The door cracked open, revealing a half-asleep Mella wrapped in a blanket, her hair sticking out in all directions.
"Andrew?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "It's barely morning. What are you doing?"
"Rift. The strange ones."
"Oh... Damn it."
---
Hames lay in the hospital bed, his gaze fixed on the sterile ceiling above. The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room, a monotonous reminder of his failure. His body ached, bandages wrapping his burns and bruises.
His mind, however, was elsewhere.
He remembered everything—every moment leading up to the fiery disaster that had landed him here. After sending Andrew and Mella away, he had given a single, cold command to Croen: Kill them in their sleep. It was the perfect move, he thought, one they wouldn't see coming. He had hoped they'd assume he was patient, tactical, willing to wait for the right opportunity.
But something had interrupted his plan.
Something that appeared out of nowhere, like it had been listening to him.
A creature—a dragon shaped like a man, its eyes burning with intelligence and rage. Before he could comprehend what was happening, they were engulfed in flames.
Hames clenched his fists. His mind kept circling back to one thought: It's connected to Andrew. It has to be.
---
The rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels filled the air as Andrew and Mella sat inside, eating sandwiches wrapped in crisp parchment. The rations were simple but satisfying after the strange morning dragging them out of bed.
Mella glanced at Andrew, studying him for a moment. "You've got a different look on your face," she said, breaking the silence.
Andrew raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"You seem... I don't know. Excited," she said, her lips curling into a small smile. "It's weird seeing you like this."
Andrew let out a laugh, shaking his head. "That's absurd."
"No, seriously," Mella insisted. "Even you laughing like that adds to it. You've got this... energy about you."
"You're imagining things."
Before Mella could respond, the carriage jerked to a halt. The driver peered back at them, his face pale. "Do you hear that?" he asked, his voice laced with unease.
The sound was unmistakable—a low, roaring rumble, like thunder trapped in a storm. Andrew and Mella exchanged a glance, then stepped out of the carriage. Ahead of them, a swirling vortex of white lightning tore through the air, crackling with chaotic energy.
Andrew reached out, taking her hand. "If it's like last time, the lightning might only target me. Just in case, stay close."
Mella nodded, gripping his hand tightly. The lightning arced through the air, striking Andrew with a deafening crack. In an instant, the world dissolved around them, replaced by the disorienting swirl of the teleportation field.
When Andrew came to, he was lying on rough ground beneath a canopy of strange, gnarled trees. The air was cold, and the faint cries of distant creatures echoed through the landscape. He sat up, glancing around. Mella was with him, brushing dirt off her clothes.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. But where are we?" she replied, scanning their surroundings.
A familiar notification appeared before Andrew.
[System Notification: Your role in protecting worlds will become more complex. The ways monsters conquer worlds are not always simple. The enemies you face may not be limited to mindless beasts. General goals will be provided when necessary. Note: Allowing worlds to become wastelands increases the frequency of rifts on other worlds, including your homeworld. Unnecessary notifications have been disabled to conserve System resources.]
Andrew frowned, processing the message. Another notification followed:
[Mission Objective: Destroy the ice gorilla eggs held as religious artifacts by the Mao tribe.]
"Eggs?" he muttered aloud.
Mella, hearing him, turned. "What did it say this time?"
He hesitated before explaining. "We're supposed to find a tribe—the Mao tribe—and destroy... ice gorilla eggs."
Mella blinked, confused. "Monster eggs? I've never heard of anything like that."
"Neither have I," Andrew admitted. "But if the System says they exist, they must. At least now we know monsters can be born. Maybe worlds that aren't already wastelands work differently."
Mella considered that, then asked, "Can't you ask the System for more details?"
Andrew shook his head. "It doesn't talk to me. Just sends messages."
Mella sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Alright. So, we need to find this Mao tribe. Any idea where to start?"
Andrew glanced around the alien terrain, the oppressive feeling still lingering in the air. "Not yet. But we'll figure it out." He adjusted his gear, his resolve hardening. "Let's get moving."
The jungle stretched endlessly before them, a tangled maze of dense foliage and towering trees. Andrew and Mella pushed forward, the air heavy with the damp, earthy scent of the wilderness. They leapt over fallen logs and ducked beneath low-hanging vines, their movements swift but cautious.
The sounds of distant creatures grew louder, mingling with the rustling leaves and the occasional crack of twigs underfoot. Andrew kept his hand near his weapon, his eyes scanning their surroundings. Mella followed close behind, her spear at the ready.
As they moved deeper into the jungle, the underbrush began to shift unnaturally. The bushes quivered, not with the wind, but with an unsettling rhythm, as if something massive was slithering beneath them.
Mella froze, her eyes narrowing. "Andrew, do you see that?"
He followed her gaze, his stomach tightening at the sight of the undulating foliage. "Yeah. Something's not right."
Without hesitation, Mella raised her hand, summoning an iron spear. The weapon materialized with a faint shimmer of light, its tip gleaming, and firing it off at the bushes.
The spear struck, and the foliage exploded outward as a massive creature recoiled. A gigantic snake, its scales glistening like polished obsidian, reared up, its yellow eyes gleaming. The creature hissed, revealing fangs as long as daggers, venom dripping onto the forest floor.
"You've got to be kidding me," Andrew muttered.