It doesn't matter how dark the path up ahead is, I'll light it for you.
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@fleurescentia
It doesn't matter how dark the path up ahead is, I'll light it for you.
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Surprised, Kleken's brows ascend. Try, as Indigo might, to correct herself, it is too late. The opportunity has revealed itself, and Kleken snatches it without hesitation to tease.
"Oh my, how naughty. You're going to make me blush,"Â Â Â he drawls, turning his head aside in mock bashfulness. His eyes, however, never deviate from the charming circle of Indigo's face, weighing whether or not to make something more of it.
If he did, headquarters would be a foul place for someone like Indigo to stay and travel would be lengthy. And if either were not true? Kleken realizes he's not inclined to take her there, anyway.
"If we stay here ... Well, there is no telling what might happen. I warned you about the monsters that lurk by the oceanâ"Â His voice trails off with the omen. After all, one monster, in particular, is doing his utmost to behave, a task made laborious with every straying glance she casts toward the moonlit sea.
"So, my adorable fairyâ" Kleken gives her a gentlemanly, sharp-toothed smile. "To save your pretty face from the clutches of those terrible, terrible creatures, I will continue to guide you."
The tentacle fast around her waist finally loosens its grip and retreats back to Kleken, and he beckons her onward as he takes down the street. "After all, why choose to sleep on rocks when you can find comfort in a most fantastical abode? You wait and see."
Seeing the inevitable teasing coming does nothing to lessen its effectiveness. If some monster dragged her into the sea right then, it would at least spare her the embarrassment.
Fortunately, Kleken doesnât seem to mind her blundersâa near-miraculous feat considering how many thereâve been. Indigo nods, mutters as a quick â muchas gracias â under her breath and follows along.
Time seems to change its aggregate state as they walk, liquid and difficult to grasp at first yet steadily solidifying as soberness slowly returns Indigoâs mind to something close to normal. The white stone buildings pass by at a seemingly quicker pace, and itâs hard to imagine which of them might qualify as the most fantastical in a city so pretty and well-kept. Once upon a time, Iberiaâs towns mustâve looked just as beautiful.
They step into one of the many inns before the thought can settle. It looks fairly average in size and decor, which, by Indigoâs standards, renders it a truly luxurious abode indeed. A room here surely comes with a price tag a lost traveller with no means canât afford, and she canât help but feel guilty. After all, sheâs still relying on someone elseâs generosity.
â Um, SeâMister Kleken, â she calls out in a hushed voice before reaching the receptionist. â Are you sure this is alright? This place looks expensive⌠â
An infection monitorâso then Add's guess was entirely accurate. It is the same thing recorded prior, though he had no doubts about his memory. Instead, it's a strange concept that another one of these devices would appear here in Elriosâsomething Add begins to mull over. At the same time, Indigo unnecessarily chatters about the monitor's functions and uses.
His lips pull back into a scowl. How the hell is anyone supposed to think like this?Â
"Stop ..."Â Add growls, hoping Indigo will while he tries to reorganize his thoughts on time and space travel. But perhaps it wasn't loud enough to deter her, the words continuing to blend into a verbal slog. Ugh. Â "Alright, enough!"
Add tsks.
"I had met a girl with cat ears wearing the same monitor in a different place and time. She was named ... Fog?" He's sure that was her name, or something adjacent. Unlike mechanisms and technologies with their endless technical terms, keeping names straight is a poor skill on his behalf. Sticking to 'hey,' 'you,' and some variation between is far easier. "Anyway, forget that for now. Whatever dimwit excuse you've got for being here in Altera can wait. Dynamo."
The drone obeys and arranges itself into a flight-formation.
"âI don't like being held back, but if you plan on finishing those stupid tasks in one piece, you better stick with me. Call me Add." Reluctantly, he offers a gloved hand in Indigo's direction. "You're about to get a one-time experience across the minefield. Be grateful, and give me your hand."
NoâŚIndigoâs explanation has definitely become incomprehensible. Perhaps even annoying, judging by this forceful reaction. Has all the delivered information been merely superfluous? Well, thatâs no good at all, and Indigo falls silent, resolved to keep further contemplations to herself. At least most of them.
â âŚIâm not familiar with any Feline operator named Fog⌠â she gently remarks. As for the âdimwit excuseâ Indigo has for being in Altera, she figures whatever she says will be of no value or interest to this rather cranky person. It vaguely sounds as if heâs offering help, and she canât risk losing that by boring him further.
â Well, I certainly am grateful for your assistance, Add. I wouldnât want to return to Terra in pieces⌠â
She reaches out to accept the offered hand, but the moment they touch, a bolt of static electricity hits Indigo. Where others might have retreated, she does not, merely offering the indifferent expression of someone who has experienced a situation like this several times before. Once they get past this supposed mine field, itâll take Indigo a good while to put herself back into proper order, but she can sigh about that when the time comes.
â WhyâŚare you a hairstylist as well? â she questions instead, deadpan without the slightest hint of irony. Perhaps static electricity simply comes with the profession, after all.
Fortunately, Aria makes good on her word to protect Cecelia. So that was a source of brief relief, a better blend than the haste and struggle Enforcer was in. Playing hero again... and here is where it gets him. There's a lot going on at once. Lights of arts crash. Rocks tumble. The Sarkaz fight. But Cecelia and Aria escape danger- good- now, once he gets out of cover, he should be able to--?!
"What? Oh no! The truck is-!" With the convoy freed from its binds, its march continues, and takes the Sankta with it. The other trucks are caught on debris, but the one Ezell had picked as cover and now clung to, was not so inconvenienced and weaves through the debris. Fleeting fortune he was able to pull himself onto the hood before being taken under the wheels.
Surely, it was not a good outcome whether he held on or jumped off. The vehicle swerves as the Sarkaz yell. A fruitless idea to get a shot off with his weapon while trying to hang on. Taking aim when moving like this? No, the other sniper had that privilege, not Enforcer. A bolt is loosed and grazes his arm despite best efforts to dodge.
Gritting through the pain, Ezell looks back towards the ambush point- it's getting further away by the moment. Cecelia. No matter what happened here, he had to get back to her. Too many promises were made. And not enough were kept.
There's a numbness crawling up his arm in the wake of the burn.
"I'll find you."
----
The rest of the mission was, compared to Enforcer's situation, going quite smoothly! Between the rubble and the combat prowess of the mercenaries the scuffle was pulling further into their favor. Guards were disabled, and the shield-wielding defender was quickly loosing steam and morale against the tide.
"Damned by the wastes, Doyt, did you see that other truck take off?! The Sankta went with im!"
"Not our truck, not our problem, we gave him at least a dozen reasons to mind his own business, didn't we? Well. S'what he gets at this point. Get the other blade!"
Perhaps the least surprising component of this ordeal was the indifference of the Sarkaz. Content with the progression of their goal, any concern is left to the Operator and the small charge, who, as you can imagine, clung desperately to Indigo in the wake of the explosion. Seeing the fate of the truck and her guardian, however, left a new fear in her chest.
"Mister Ezell...!" Cecelia's gentle voice, even distressed, couldn't hope to carry over the clamor, nor the distance. That wouldn't stop her lamenting regardless. Shaky breathing as she tries to corral her panic. The halo... dims briefly. And for a moment her grip on Indigo weakens.
"No... we have to help him... but I... what do I do now?" Apprehension chokes any other words back. Is there anything she could do? Was this her fault? Why was the place where daddy was from so dangerous... why were the people so angry? She didn't want anything like this to happen!
Is it too late to be friends??
"Oy, Aria, What was that? You about let everything loose! Lucky only the one truck got away."
As the chaos settles, Indigo turns to Cecelia, checking the girl for any injuries. Fortunately, she seems unharmed, but others, friend and foe alike, received plenty of woundsâperhaps worse. While Indigo herself only has a few scrapes and scratches to show for her efforts, the first casualty becomes apparent as she pulls her communicator from her pocket, the device looking decidedly worse for wear after getting hit by some debris. And thereâs no trace of the other truck and her colleague from Rhodes Island either.
The Sarkaz now turn their attentions back to Indigo, and she finds a rarely felt emotion bubbling up in her chest in response. None of this is right. And none of this wouldâve happened if this had been a Rhodes Island operation. But even Indigoâs so-called friends shouldâve known, shouldâve done better. She slowly rises to her feet, giving Cecelia a gentle pat on the shoulder.
â Donât worryâweâll find Mister Ezell. But if we rush ahead now, more bad things might happen. Please, give me a moment to sort some things out first⌠â
Hoping the girl will stay put, Indigo joins the Sarkaz, who show neither fear nor remorse as she approaches. That changes quickly. Indigo swings her staff at the group with surprising vigour, a chorus of outcries (âHey!â, âOw!â, âAria, whatââ) escaping the Sarkaz as she hits each of them over the head.
â Weâre all lucky to be alive, â Indigo then states calmly, though sounding unusually serious. â You had no plan and put all of us in danger. If you hadnât run into me earlierâŚhow would you have stopped those trucks at all? â
Silence follows until one of the group sheepishly suggests, âlots of explosions?â to which the others only shake their heads. âWhatever. âLeast we got one truck. What d'ya want then, Aria? Part of the payâs yours.â
Indigo only shakes her head. â PleaseâŚrepair this for me instead. â She hands her broken communication device to one of the Sarkaz, who nods, while the others return to the crashed truck to confiscate its contents. Indigo then returns to the young Sankta.
â Cecelia. Before he left, Mister Ezell mentioned a backup plan. Is it a safe place for you two to meet? â If so, she can only hope heâll make it there in one piece.
i cast concussion! [beats you over the head with my staff]

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The situation at hand offers little in the way of consideration. It was an act or do not act manner of decision. Destructive forces came second-nature to the Sankta, whether by proclivity or weapon of choice. Yet there was an undeniable sense of misdirection at play, here. Was it the labels on the vehicle? Well, there were none to begin with. Had their been some insignia designating the convoy as part of humanitarian aid then what Ezellâs next choice would have been would be as clear as the Kazdel sky above them.
It creates a nagging feeling, regardless of if the foes ahead of them were drug traders or dealers of other illegal paraphernalia.
âYes. I will trust you in her care, Operator Indigo.â Aria. The Sarkaz also called her. What connection do they have with someone who looks just as foreign to this land as the pair do? Well, almost. Itâs highly likely that the serpent hadnât required smuggling to enter Kazdel, unlike the two halo-bearing seekers. âCecilia, remember our backup plan. But for now. Stay with miss Indigo. Iâll be back soon.â
âOkay!â The two exchange a smile, then he passes a nod to the Pythia before turning, leaving the child to huddle with the caster. âDonât worry. Iâm not scared⌠that much! Do you do work like this a lotâŚ?â
---
Restrained by her impressive arts the vehicles make for easy targets. The people within, however, would not. Enforcer makes a swift approach with long strides to regain pace with the mercenaries he was decidedly aiding. The number of hostiles is counted. At least half a dozen individuals, including the two exiting from the front vehicle. Two snipers, then three guards and⌠huh, what was that last one? A defender? When they disembark from the rear vehicle the shield is almost as big as they are. Which is huge to begin with.
âDamn wretches. Protect the merchandise, lads!â The shieldbearer belts out, bringing that weaponized shield to bear before they intercept the encroaching Sarkaz. Words are exchanged, though Ezell is at a loss what they mean in the foreign tongue. Angry words. Never mind that. This situation puts him into place too. With the Sarkaz mercs occupied the other guards were rushing to the flank or worse- make their way to Cecelia and Indigo.
The first guard he meets is greeted with an impact from the butt of his patron firearm. The crack to the otherâs jaw is swiftly followed by a kick planted to their side. A blast from the weapon sounds after, the concussive force sending the second guard sailing back into the vehicle and knocking it askew. Before Ezell can line up another shot the bolts of the snipers have him dodging for cover. Then, their attention turns to the caster.
âGah- Indigo! Look out!â Heâll have to scramble to put some pressure on them. There wasn't exactly much cover for her to work with once those snipers got bold.
â Not anymore⌠â Indigo responds absently to the girlâs inquiries. Her focus lies on the vehicles, and on the chaos thatâll surely soon ensue. To an onlooker, she might seem entirely preoccupied with holding the cars in place, but not quite so. Her staff glows softly at first, but the luminescence steadily increases until it becomes a tiny lighthouse, shining its light over the scene.
And not a moment too soon. There is no discussion, not even a hint of diplomacy to be found, as all sides charge headlong into battle. It is unfortunate, though not entirely unexpected. But there's no reason to panic. All of Indigoâs colleagues, old or new, are professionals after all, and fully capable of handling the situation. Surelyâ
What are those snipers doing pointing their weapons at her?!
Well then, thereâs only one thing to do. â Cecelia, please duck behind me. â
A blindingly bright orb descends upon the field, blanketing the area in purple lightâuntil it collides with the ground, the resulting explosion shooting loosened rocks all over, ripping entire sections out of the road. Indigoâs grasp on the cars falters, and the released vehicles immediately shoot towards the debris. She ushers the young Sankta behind one of the road-boulders, but a voice catches her attention just as a bolt crashes into the rock, narrowly missing her.
âAria, is that you?â
Indigo risk a swift glance over the edge, and indeedâone of those snipers looks familiar. What are the chances? ButâŚ.this is bad.
â Enforcer! â she calls out towards the battlefield ahead, not entirely sure about her fellow operatorâs current position. â Donât get hit by these bolts! Theyâre covered in poison! â This, at least, she vividly remembers from her past encounters. And without Blue Poison or a medical operator in sightâwell, it doesnât matter if no one gets hit.
â It's important to carefully maintain long hair and set it properly before every battle. Otherwise, why, you might just trip over it in the midst of the fighting... â Maybe she has experienced this once or twice before. Or maybe many times.
Hmm. The information of Indigo's tolerance is folded and sloppily tucked away into the pocket of his mind, too distracted to attend to its value right now. The hand lying against his tentacle holds his attention, rapt with a wicked mix of amusement and bemusement.
Too careless, she is, indeedâa far cry from the textbook definition of a heroine, with no signs of amending her actions or future ones. Still, it would be an ineloquent lie to say she did not continue to accrue an octopus' interest.
"Abandoning a cute fairy to the wilds of the dark in her time of need? I could never!"  Kleken speaks a different lie, betraying nothingâor, well, not muchâthere would be no viable gain in abandoning anyone now. He even clicks his tongue, letting pity seep into his voice.  "Poor thing, you're more affected than I thought ..." Â
The slippery arm around Indigo's waist tightens, bringing them closer. A hand, then poised in a loose fist, seemingly reaches for her flushed cheeks, as if to caress them with his white knuckles. But the intent wavers, becomes illusive, and his fingers continue their ascent to adjust the brim of his hat.
Kleken inclines his head, letting a slant of moonlight illuminate the lens on the bridge of his nose. From beyond its rim, he gives her a wink.
"Yet, I can't forgive you at all, my dear. Why don't you begin to make up for it by telling me where you'll stay for the night?"
For a moment, the lightheadedness intensifies, leaving Indigo feeling oddly adrift in that gaze directed at her. But the feeling quickly changes into something else, something heavier, that seems to get caught in her throat like thin fabric on a branch of thorns. She swallows it down, averting her gaze for some reprieve. Though her staff remains safely in her hand, lighting it would do little to illuminate the path ahead.
â Why, I⌠â Itâs not a complicated question, though. These waters arenât so muddied, and the answer, if insufficient, should be clear. She faces Kleken again, fully intent on delivering that simple reply. â Iâm not sure. I only have the coins you gave me, and I donât know if they could rent me a room for the night somewhere. â Yes, that. Simple, clear.
â Or perhaps...would you mind if I stayed with you? âÂ
A second passes before Indigoâs eyes round with a realisation, a gasp following the moment of terror. If she keeps saying weird things like that, itâll will only give that naughty-accusation undue credence!
â Um, that is, I could sleep on a couch, or perhaps the floor. â The words come uncharacteristically rushed. â I-I wouldnât mind! Iâve spent many nights in the wastelands, after my tent got stolenâŚtwice. A-and I used to sleep on the rocks in my hometown, right next to the sea. So, you see, Iâm quite used to it. â There, that should clear things up.
â Why, I could even stay right here. â ThatâŚshe shouldnât have added that. Indigo falls silent, her gaze returning to the waves. Maybe a splash of water would help and free her from what must be the wineâs lingering effects.
IN THE RETREATING STEP BACK to appraise his handiwork, richard smiles at the color filling indigo's cheeks. at her call, the burden instantly lifts from his shoulders, a breath held and finally released. that makes for a better sight, and he counters it with a coy wink. however, the moment is fleeting and cut tragically short with urgency.
" time ? " he repeats and looks around for an opening, hoping to gauge the hour from the light on the horizon. halfway towards a shabby-looking window, someone among the lupo pipes out a quarter past six.
richard stops, glances back over his shoulder at the crowd, then turns to gauge Indigo's opinion. is it too late ? the last rays of the sun can still be seen.
" if only i were familiar with this city, i'd have them delivered on your behalfâŚ" especially while a thrum of energy mixes in with the need to dash about runs through him. it would kill two birds with one stone. yet, no summoning comes complete with a mental map of its location.
" what will you do, indigo? i'll assist you in any way i can."
@fleurescentia cont. from here
â Why, deliver the rest of the packages while we still can, â Indigo says while slipping off the couch and reaching for her staff. The delivery deadline should be the end of the day, which means only a few hours remain. But Saber makes a good point. Theyâre both unfamiliar with Lungmen, which might produce further delays. She frowns at the dilemma, but then her expression brightens and she turns towards the gang of Lupo.
â Say, would one of you be willing to accompany us as a guide? â
***
With the Lupoâs aid, their delivery speed picks up significantly, and the stack of packages grows steadily shorter. Yet, when Indigo reads out the next address on the list, their unlikely helper suddenly excuses himself, claiming something about ânot wanting to get into any more troubleâ. Strange. Isnât the next parcelâs recipient a simple seafood stall?
An odd scene greets them right after passing the next corner. An old man stands before the stall in question, swiping with what seems like a crabâs cut-off pincer at a group of aggravated, hatted Felines.
âI keep telling you, weâre all out of fins! Look at the time and go home already!â
âNo way! Youâve gotta have something left, pops! Even if itâs crabs or shrimps, just give us everything!âââRight, then Waai Fu will become our boss for sure!!!â
âAre you kids completely out of your minds?! Go home!â
The debate rages on, becoming more and more heated.
â Why⌠â Indigo comments, adjusting the remaining parcels in her grip. â I believe thatâs the next recipient. Saber, what should we do? â
â đ đ đ đ đ đ đ đ
a strange box arrives at indigo's dorm without warning, with eight gummy octopi arranged within like so. though cute, they have a distinctly strong scent of champagne. more importantly, though it is clearly addressed to indigo and only indigo, a note inside seems to state the opposite: "these are not for you! don't eat them" with no return address or sender.
Indigo stares at the box in puzzlement. Where did it come from? Who sent it? Those are the first questions coming to mind, but many more bubble up as she lifts the lid. An added note that contradicts the address on the boxâthis might be just be a riddle too much for her to solve. She has half a mind to ask her friends for their opinion, but somehow, that doesnât feel appropriate either. This time, sheâll have to figure it out by herself.
The scent of champagne accompanies the gummy plucked from the box for further inspection. Indigo canât claim to have a distinguished enough palate for differentiating various types of said drink, but this one seems familiar. Then thereâs the peculiar shape of the treatsâŚ
But the note. What to make of the note? It directly contradictsâDoes it, really? While the box mentions her name, this slip of paper doesnât. Then, perhaps the sender added it to keep anyone else from plundering the boxâs contents. Itâs the only explanation that makes sense. Nodding as if to confirm her own theory, Indigo feels emboldened enough to give one of the small treats a try. IndeedâŚthe flavour tastes familiar.
In that caseâŚitâs fine if she makes an exception and doesnât share these gummies with anyone else, right?

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đ I N D I G O đ
And a boop from Cecelia to Indigo! owo
Indigo, while of course oblivious to the meaning of the boops, offers the girl a smile regardless.
â And here's a boop for you, Cecelia. Why, let's find Ezell to boop him together next, shall we? â
The intervention foils a great escape so carefully abided and staged, now disastrously halted, and Kleken peers down at the violet tendrils around his legs with muted distaste. Whatever they are, the bands of light are relentless in their vice-like snare and curiously match the color illuminating Indigo's staffâpulling his attention toward its glow.
It begs the question: was she vaguely aware of his attempted solo departure and thus craftily prevented it, or was luck smiling down upon her tonight?Â
"My, my ..." Kleken says upon his release, the words contained in a smile, too. Indigo's sorry state is telltale that wine ( and luck, still ) is possibly to blame in the end. "I'm honored that you refuse to let me go, precious fairy. You're much more naughtier than I thoughtâ"
A long stride brings him to her side to lightly catch her elbow, steadying the poor girl. All the while, the waiter is paid the meal's cost and expenses with proper Nightium tucked into a pouch like the one Kleken had bestowed to Indigo earlier, carefully smoothing over the wrinkles caused by her confusion.
Oh, these turn of eventsâit's almost laughable how different from how he had envisioned it. Almost.
"Dear fairy, we must make haste before the shadows envelope this place, too. Come now, one step at a timeâ"Â With a tentacle furling around her waist like a lover's arm, Kleken helps escort Indigo out of the restaurant's premises and into the seaside streets. The open salt-sweet breeze and gurgling crest of waves stir something within him, and he can't help but slant a look through rose-colored lens.
Perhaps the sea will come before the shadow. However, beneath the veil of nighttime and glimmering port lights, Kleken can blend in and finally ask: "Now, what was all that really about? Was that my fault?"
Their exit from the restaurant is a blur that passes her by almost without notice. She has half a mind to protest against something said just before their departure, but the thought drifts away with the nightly breeze. The cool salt-scented air doesnât dispel her daze entirely, but it helps, her steps slowly steadying.
Unfortunately, this only serves to leave Indigo in a dreadful in-between state: sober enough to sink into deep embarrassment, yet not quite sober enough to order the muddled thoughts clouding her mind into a fully coherent explanation.
â No⌠â she says with an attempted shake of her head, abandoned half-way for the dizziness it might bring. â My apologies for what happened. And thank you for helping meâŚagain. â One hand still clinging to her staff as if for life support, she lightly pats the arm wrapped around her waist (it is an arm, right?) with her other hand, hoping to convey her appreciation.
â My friend Blue Poison⌠she always says Iâm a little slow. ToxinsâŚand such donât affect me right away. Iâve been too careless. You neednât worry, though, Mister KlekenâŚIâll be better soon. â At least she certainly hopes so. She can feel the daze slowly dissipating, like thinning fog.
â I know that doesnât excuse my behaviour. Why, Iâd understand if youâd abandoned me already⌠â Indigo sighs, her gloomy gaze drifting over the many-coloured lights shimmering reflected on the water. â Your words merelyâŚreminded me of what my teacher told me, andâŚthose feelings I carry must run deeper than I thought. Iâm truly sorry for my inâŚinadequacies. I hope you can forgive my actions. â
After it had trailed so far up to reach the edge of her knee, the tentacle finally loses its grip and retreats. Kleken sets his fork aside and leans back again, slumping slightly against his seat.
"... I see," he says, voice dropping low with the weight of his disappointment. "Perhaps you're not the quarry I have been looking for. And, after all the hard labor I put into finding you ... It's a shameâwhy, I could be driven into tears."
The lie is glorious on his tongue, and Kleken savors it like the finest wine. Aria may not consider herself a heroine, but after this new facet of information, she's bound to weave a story nonetheless. And that is a lure of its own making.
The octopus fishes for napkins from the table, dabs them theatrically at the corners of his eyes, coming away dry, and sets them over his empty plate in finality. Here, Kleken returns to the usual facade as he resumes attention to Indigo again. "Oh well. No use crying over spilled expectations."
With a beckoning gesture, the waiter is called upon to their table, receipts already in hand as they approach. Kleken smiles and flicks up an arm, peering at the hour upon his watch.
"My, just look at the time. It has been a pleasure, little fairy," Â he says, running his fingers over the brim of his hat, tipping it. "But, we should take our leave now." // @fleurescentia continued from here
â T-that bad? â Seeing Kleken so dejected rattles something loose inside of her, and it sinks like a stone lost to the sea. Itâs an old hurt that surfaces in its stead, overlapping the disappointed looks Kleken sends her way with those of another. â Iâm.. sorry. S-so sorry. â
The words are heartfelt, and Indigo falls silent afterwards, merely nodding at the suggestion of departure. She absently pats non-existent crumbs off her skirt before rising to her feet and reaching for her staff. The latter turns into an unexpected lifeline, Indigo slightly swaying as if adrift in the waves, her weapon the only foothold against the tide, candlelights dancing at the edge of her vision like fireflies.
â Am I⌠mistaken? â she half-questions, half-mutters to herself, grabbing her staff tighter. â Am I meant to⌠to become a heroine? Is that why⌠why teacher made me leave? Why, I⌠â
The rest becomes incomprehensible, and as she takes a wobbly step towards the (indeed impatiently waiting) server, Indigo only briefly lifts her staff off the ground. Matching her step, she sets it down again andâ
The staff lights up, several gently glowing violet lines spreading across the floor like luminous spiderwebs. The swirling spirals of light quickly grab hold of Klekenâs legs, the serverâsâeven those of some other guests nearby, gently yet firmly keeping all affected stuck in place.
â HuhâŚ? Ahh⌠Why, I didnât mean to⌠â And yet, instead of ending her spell, Indigo reaches into her bag, futilely searching for the stack of LMD lost and replaced earlier. She finds a coin instead and lifts it to the light of her staff, her expression showing not a single sign of enlightenment. The loud complaints of her âvictimsâ finally snap Indigo out of her reverie.
â S-sorry!âThere you go. â The glowing labyrinth vanishes in an instant, and Indigo leans her forehead against the staff to stop another onset of swaying, to minimal success.
Ignoring what appeared to be the start of a long-winded explanation and imploring, Add snatches the list from Indigo's hand and aggressively skims over the scrabbled text.
Outside of various duties that can easily be performed within the village ( delivering potions from the alchemy shop, really? ), a few particular lines jump to his attention: investigate the activity of local Nasods, scout for any missing Ponggos, and evident signs of Alterasian spores from the underground tunnel. The latter exceptionally makes his eyes narrow in contempt.Â
That was his quest.
"Damn moles," Add mutters, pocketing the scrap of paper rather than crushing it with a fist. They took full advantage of this idiot stranger, and he is beginning to see why. "The hell do you mean 'what are those Nasods?' Have you been living under a rock?" Another scrutinizing look scours her from top to bottom, getting snagged on an item of chance.
"Oi, that thing around your neckâ" Add dismounts Dynamo and shortens the space between them in a step. He peers at the black device there, recalling one that had been dismantled and rebuilt long ago for a cat-woman. Sifting through its internal data reveals an identical match to his own database. But that should be impossible.
"That's a monitor, isn't it? For some infection, or whatever. Tch, just my luck to find another one of you."
â Why, Iâve been living on a rock for many years! Well, at the least the lighthouse I grew up in stands on a rocky cliffâ â
But apparently anecdotes of her hometown are of lesser priority for now. Indigo absently lifts a hand and points to the device around her neck to confirm, as if he could possibly mean anything else.
â Huh? Have you met another operator before? â She briefly wonders whom he couldâve encountered, but there are too many choices to contemplate them all for now. Whoever it was, they mustnât have explained the deviceâs functions in an appropriate manner.
â Um, well, it is indeed an infection monitor. All of Rhodes Islandâs operators are required to wear one, regardless of their medical status. It records⌠er⌠â Well, she is no member of the medical department, after all. â Something called the âBlood Originium-Crystal Densityâ! And the rate of Cell-Originium Assimilation. For someone uninfected like me, I believe that number should be 0%⌠H-however, should an operatorâs blood density level rise too high, they risk infection! Why, I always carry some suppressants for emergency use for this reason. â
PerhapsâŚthat explanation had been a little too comprehensive, to the point of getting incomprehensible? Hopefully, thatâs not the case.
â A-anyway, Iâm AââŚIndigo. Might I ask who you are? And perhapsâŚwhere youâve encountered another operator? I have seen none around these parts, myself. â

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The Sarkaz mercenaries (what else could they be?) have the two Sankta and the Pythia surrounded, now. Itâs more than enough to keep the executor on high alert. Underneath white tresses a purple gaze remains wary despite all attempts to convey unperturbedness. The restraint is for himself as much as it is for Cecelia. Perhaps itâs a blessing in this situation that the young lady embraces such noble optimism. When Indigo falls into their pace she returns brightly.
âItâs nice to meet you too, miss Indigo! Your hair is really pretty.â The girlâs voice is a dulcet ring of bells to contrast the gravel of their compansions. âIâm Cecelia. Mister Ezell and I are looking for someone. My dad, actually. There was a really nice lady who once met them and said they came to this town. Maybe if we help you, itâll help us find what weâre after too.â The candor in her words could almost convince the assembled Sarkaz even of her conviction. Though the tempered expression on her guardian suggests it canât be entirely shared. Still an improvement over the tension that had been on display prior.
âThank you, Operator Indigo. But while I appreciate your concernâŚâ Thereâs actually a tint of uncertainty in his voice. Gaze moving to the Sarkaz that had chimed in during Indigoâs offer. They were⌠warning him of a charlatan? One that had fooled the operator it would seem. Suddenly, this scenario felt as though it had different stakes and risks. And to whom? Well. Maybe the womanâs apology did have some merit.
âMy presence here feels best.â Was he the only one present with the best interests in mind? Trust who? âAt least until I have a better idea whatâs going on. The current situation is lacking in answers.â Hm. âI wish Iâd had another cup of coffee this morning.â
A well-worn notebook is pulled out of Enforcerâs pocket. After a moment of thumbing through pages, a pen is clicked, and names are jotted- notes to be referenced later within the relevant section. Space is left, of course, anticipating some later doodles to be added. A soft clap of leather binding as his gaze travels into the distance where a small cloud in the sand begins growing in size. The Sarkaz were focused as well. Three vehicles come into view, breaking out of the cloud as the route pulls them over the ridge. Covered. Lightly armored.
âShould be in the middle car.â
âWhat should be in the middle car?â Enforcer asks. The silent rolling of eyes behind the metal mask was almost conceptually audible, so strong was the gesture..
âHeh. The contraband weâll be confiscating.â
Hm.
If what little Miss Cecelia is saying is true, this area is an odd place to be looking for her father. Most Sankta remain in Laterano, do they not? Perhaps this one works as a Catastrophe Messenger and thus has to undertake dangerous travels. Still, shouldnât there be an easier way to contact him?
But these contemplations must wait for a later time, the current mission at hand requiring full focus after all. Indigo gives Cecelia a reassuring pat on the head (the gesture fortunately missing the girlâs halo) and takes a step forward to join the Sarkaz at the front.
â I see⌠This is what you need my help for. Why, you shouldâve said so from the beginning. Iâll do my best to assist you in removing those dangerous substances from circulation. â
Determined, she places the end of her staff on the ground and closes her eyes, focusing her mind and gathering the strength of her Arts into small flickers of light floating around the glowing stone crowning her weapon. She waits, patiently listening to the sound of approaching motors. Finally, the convoy enters the range of her spell. She lifts her staff, unleashing her Arts all at once, covering the area in brightly flickering lightsâand purple swirls grasp for the cars, stopping the vehicles cold on their tracks.
â Will thisâŚdo? â Her voice is strained, the strength of her Arts still battling against the powerful motors within the vehicles.
â Perfect, â one of the Sarkaz replies, gesturing with a pointed blade towards the middle car. â Câmon guys, letâs go!âYou too, Sankta, make yourself useful. Aria here wonât hold out for long. â
But thatâs not true! Well, itâs mostly true, but still! After all the work Indigo poured into her training, her Arts have become much more powerful than they used to be. Unfortunately, the Sarkaz have already stormed off before she can remark on her progress.
â Mister EzellâŚright? Would you assist them? You neednât worry⌠Iâll stop anyone approaching Miss Cecelia in my labyrinth. â