Qein held Mella tightly in his arms. Andrew wrapped an arm around Qein to steady him, feeling the slight tremor in the larger man's stance.
"My balance isn't great, Andrew," Qein muttered, his voice low but tinged with unease. "What's the plan here?"
Andrew glanced at the towering spear lodged into the rock face above them, its shaft slanting precariously toward their destination. "Doesn't have to be perfect. Just grab the highest part of the spear you can reach. Hold on when we get there."
Qein frowned. "That's your plan?"
Mella interjected softly, her voice firm despite her exhaustion. "Trust him. He's... kind of smart."
Andrew adjusted his grip on both Qein and the ground beneath his feet. "Ready?" Without waiting for an answer, he activated his ability. The ground beneath them cracked as his super jump propelled all three of them into the air.
Qein let out a startled shout as they arced upward, his body tensing against the unexpected force. Mella clung tightly, her fingers gripping his tunic. They didn't reach the very tip of the spear, but high enough for Qein to extend his free hand and grasp the shaft with surprising strength.
"I can't believe this..." Qein muttered, his tone awed. His muscles flexed, and with a powerful shove, he hoisted them higher. Shaky but determined, he managed to plant his feet on the slanted spear, gripping it tightly with one hand to maintain balance.
Andrew, however, struggled to find steady footing. "I'm gonna do it again," he panted, sweat beading on his forehead. His legs trembled as he prepared for another leap. "But after this, I'm tapped out."
"Then don't mess it up," Qein said, his voice gruff. He adjusted his grip, securing Mella closer to him.
Andrew nodded, but as he pushed off for another jump, his footing slipped. Instead of a straight ascent, he shot up at an angle, twisting awkwardly midair.
Qein gritted his teeth, holding firm as Mella groaned faintly. "Got... a little energy back," she murmured. Her hand glowed faintly, and a spear materialized in her grasp.
"You're insane," Qein muttered, half to himself, as he took the weapon.
They reached the rock wall, momentum driving them hard against its surface. With a roar, Qein drove the spear into the stone, embedding it deeply. He wedged his arm over it, trapping it under his armpit for stability.
"Hold on!" he barked, just as the bomb he'd been carrying slipped from his grasp.
Reflexively, Andrew kicked it upward. It sailed toward the massive flat rock above them and exploded on contact, dislodging the rock and sending it teetering precariously.
The blast rocked them, but Qein's grip held. He adjusted Mella in his arm and began climbing with one hand, muscles straining with each pull. Andrew clung to him, struggling to keep his footing on the precarious surface.
He had reached his limit, his safe limit. But as long as he could move his feet, he could go past his limit. But he would have to suffer it.
Andrew was prepared to suffer.
Andrew grunted, swinging his foot against the wall to gain momentum. "Now!" he shouted. Together, they propelled toward the opposite side, soaring over the flat rock as it tipped. They hit the ground hard, tumbling in a heap.
Pain lanced through Andrew's legs, sharp and unrelenting. He clutched at them, groaning.
The pain was ridiculous, like he was being hit by hammers non-stop. He kept telling himself that his legs didn't hurt, hoping to convince his body to reduce the torture. But it wasn't working.
He breathed hard as things became blurry... and then the dark sky faded to black.
When Andrew woke, the sky was light, morning casting soft hues over the quiet landscape. An extinguished campfire smoldered nearby, and Qein sat by it, staring into the distance.
Andrew pushed himself upright with a groan. "You're still here? I appreciate it. I would have been mad if a beast had eaten me while I was unconscious," he said quietly.
Qein glanced over, his expression unreadable. "Don't thank me. You're the one who got me out of there. Because of you, I'm free. This was the least I could do." He turned back to the horizon.
Andrew nodded.
Mella was already awake, sitting silently a short distance away. Andrew's gaze softened as he looked at her. "You okay?"
She nodded but didn't meet his eyes. Her silence lingered before Andrew spoke again, his voice heavy with guilt. "I'm sorry for almost getting you killed."
Mella's head tilted slightly, her expression unreadable. "You didn't almost get me killed." Her voice was steady, calm. "I'm not your follower, Andrew. I'm your teammate. I chose this. I want to do this. To help people. Whatever happens to me... that's on me. Not you."
Andrew stared at her, her words settling over him like a weight. He nodded slowly but couldn't shake the thought: if something happened to her, it would feel like his fault.
He summoned his sword, its form materializing in his hand as he inspected it. Qein's voice broke the quiet. "If you're not working with the monsters... why do you have powers like theirs?"
Andrew hesitated, considering his response. "Before I answer that," he said finally, "I need to know something. Do you want to team up with me?"
Qein raised an eyebrow. "To do what? The eggs stuff"
"Yeah, but more than that. To kill monsters until they are no more. Free the world from the ones working with them."
Qein thought about it. "Its hard to trust everything you have said, but... I'm willing to do everything to rid the monsters from the world or wherever they may be. Even if I have to die for it."
Andrew's lips pressed into a thin line before he gave a single, firm nod. "Good."
Qein leaned back slightly, arms crossed, his expression skeptical. "Alright, so can you tell me why you two got these powers but ain't working with the monsters?"
"Mella and I were given these powers to oppose the monsters." There was a lot more to it, but that summary was good enough.
As Andrew spoke, the familiar weight pressed against him—the mysterious pressure, but It wasn't enough to silence him this time, but he could feel it watching, judging.
Qein's eyes narrowed slightly. He didn't react immediately. "Who gave you these powers?"
"It's something called the Grand System. We don't know who or what it is, exactly. But on Earth—where we're from—people like us are known as Rift Fighters. It's... a thing there. A known concept."
Mella's eyebrows furrowed when she heard Grand System, but said nothing.
Qein's expression didn't soften. If anything, it hardened into one of disbelief. He pointed a finger at Andrew. "If this is real, why have I never heard of it? None of us here ever have."
"I don't know why this world is the way it is."
Qein stayed silent for a long moment, his eyes searching Andrew's face for any sign of a lie. Finally, he sat back, looking completely baffled. "You're saying... you're from a different world? A place where fighting monsters is just... normal?"
"Yeah," Andrew said plainly. "Common enough that it's part of life there. People know Rift Fighters exist. They're trained to fight things like this. Back home, it wasn't just me and Mella. There were others."
Qein shook his head slowly, still trying to wrap his mind around the concept. "This is insane. So are there more of these rift fighters here?"
"No, that's a different story. It's complicated. But I'm given these missions to help other worlds. Probably worlds that don't have the Grand system to help them out. Mella is with me since she's a teammate of mine."
Mella spoke up, her voice firm. "We don't have time to go into the details of this. The eggs could hatch at any moment."
She was right. Whatever doubts Qein had would have to wait.
Qein rose to his feet. He shot Andrew a look, his skepticism still evident but tempered now with a grudging acceptance. "If everything you said is true... then thanks for coming to this world."
"Sure, man." Andrew nodded, summoning his sword. "Let's go."