The foothills sloped gently upward. The greens and yellows contrasted with the black, hellish landscape behind them. The air was already changing; it was starting to become dry and sharp. Now and then, a faint rumble echoed beneath the earth like some buried giant shifting in its sleep.

  Lyra trailed a few paces behind, her steps light, her eyes never leaving the ground ahead. She had followed them since they left the village. There was no way that she was gonna leave her fate in the hands of a lion child. She stopped to catch her breath, panting and wiping the sweat from her brow. She stole a glance at them, taking her eyes off the ground for a second, wondering if they ever paused to catch their breath.

  Dane let the silence stretch for a while before nudging Zeph with his elbow, a sly grin tugging at his mouth. "I see it, you know."

  Zeph shot him a wary look. "See what?"

  "When Sara's tail swishes..." Dane made a gesture of it with his hands. "... your eyes follow it every time."

  Zeph stopped short, his expression sharpening, but the faint prickle of his feathers betrayed him. "I can't help it, she is a beautiful fox."

  Dane paused for a moment, doing the mental gymnastics to process what he had just heard. "How does that work, you know, between birds and foxes? Don't you guys lay eggs and they give live birth?"

  Zeph let out a hearty chuckle. "I'm not about to have the birds and the bees conversation with you, Dane. Ask Draka when we get back."

  "I guess I'll never know then, keep your secrets, Eagle."

  Zeph shook his head, still chuckling, but he kept walking. Dane's grin lingered a moment longer before it faded, his gaze drifting back to the rising plumes of smoke curling against the sky.

  "I'm not really one to talk anyway," Dane said at last, his voice quieter. "Amelia's been on my mind since I left. More than I'd like to admit.”

  Zeph tilted his head, curious. "Who's Amelia?"

  Dane's mouth softened into a faint smile. "She's… home. Or at least, what feels like home. She is strong-willed and stubborn as hell. She has a way of looking at me as if I'm already the person I want to be. Every time I think about stopping or giving in, I see her face."

  Zeph let out a low whistle, smirking as he shook his head. "That's way worse than watching a tail swish. You sound like that drunk bard trying to strum love songs back at that tavern."

  Dane laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well. Guess I'm worse off than you then."

  The grass thinned, fading into blackened stone. Patches of brittle earth cracked underfoot, coughing up steam in brief hisses. The air was even sharper and dry enough to sting the throat, and the sky above took on a faint haze from the ash drifting up the slopes.

  Dane paused at a fork in the path. There was one trail winding down into a ravine, the other cutting straight across a jagged rise where vents spat smoke. He didn't hesitate. He angled toward the ridge.

  Zeph's feathers prickled. "That's reckless. The low path is safer."

  "Safer, but slower." Dane didn't even look back. "We'll make better time up here. I don't like dragging my heels when something could be waiting ahead."

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  Zeph clicked his tongue, following but stiffly. "It doesn't matter what kind of time you make if you are dead. Do you even consider the cost before you choose?”

  Dane shot him a glance over his shoulder. "Do you ever stop? You're still haunted by what went wrong with the druids. You'd spend all day overthinking, waiting for the perfect choice. I don't have that luxury.”

  The heat pressed heavier as they climbed, the air sour with sulfur. Beneath them, the earth rumbled, scattering loose pebbles down the slope.

  "That's the problem," Zeph said. "You treat rushing headlong as a strength. Confidence isn't the same as leadership, Dane. It just forces people to follow without choice."

  Dane's jaw tightened. "And hesitation kills. I know because I lived it; they put me in a slave collar while I was busy carefully planning out my life." His fists clenched at his side, he could still feel the cold bite of metal in his neck. The scars healed when he leveled up, but some things remained. "I need to get stronger, and as far as I am concerned, it needed to be yesterday. The strong will do what they want with the weak. What does it matter if I make a snap decision? If I am too weak, I will die anyway. It is better to be on my own terms.”

  Zeph stopped walking, wings stiff. "You don't have to pick between the two. But you're too stubborn to see it."

  Dane turned, ready to fire back, but Zeph cut him off, eyes narrowing toward the rocks behind. "Later. Really think about what I said. It's about time we addressed the woman tailing us."

  Dane's eyes flicked to the ridge behind them. A figure crouched near a jagged outcropping, motionless but watching. Even from a distance, Lyra's posture made her intent clear. She wasn't hiding for fear; she was sizing them up, waiting.

  Zeph's wings twitched, feathers bristling. "I told you," he muttered, low, "we're not alone."

  Dane narrowed his eyes, slow, deliberate. "Let's see what she wants."

  They moved closer, keeping the jagged rocks between themselves and her. Dane raised a hand in a gesture that was part greeting, part warning. Lyra stepped forward, hands empty but firm at her sides.

  "I see you were serious about us taking you with us," Dane said, voice calm but edged. "Why?"

  Lyra's eyes darted between him and Zeph. "Because I have to." Her jaw tightened. "That totem may keep them safe, but eventually they will be in the same spot again. I don't want to die in that dead-end town."

  Zeph shifted, folding his wings slightly, the slightest hint of irritation showing. "And you thought tailing us without a word would work? That's reckless."

  "I'm not reckless!" Lyra snapped. Her voice rose, anger flaring but controlled. "I'm alive, aren't I? And I'm better off with you than somewhere else getting eaten on my own."

  Dane's gaze softened slightly. There was no malice in her words, only blunt truth. He nodded once. "Fair enough. But following without saying a word? That's a problem. We need to know each other's moves if you're going to survive what's ahead."

  Lyra swallowed, then lowered her gaze for just a fraction of a second. "I just… I didn't get a chance to explain before you two took off."

  Zeph stepped closer, his eyes scanning her carefully. "You want to stay, fine. But from here on, you act as part of the group, or you don't act at all. What level are you and what system do you use?"

  Lyra blinked, then nodded slowly, a mixture of relief and pride flickering across her features. "I am Level 15, and I was born into the Legion. The system I am bound to is the Praetorium."

  Zeph exhaled sharply, muttering under his breath. "Level fifteen is suicidal even with me and Dane here to protect you."

  Dane chuckled, glancing at Zeph. "It doesn't matter what level she is; we can train her and rank her up. What kind of class do you have?"

  Lyra straightened, her gaze firm on the volcanic ridge ahead. "The Praetorium doesn't give classes out until you kill another with what you want. I am a level fifteen nothing."

  Dane stopped laughing abruptly. "Do you want to stay with the Legion? I can offer you a way out; all you have to do is accept the Earthbound system. I understand it is a large decision and once I leave, you will most likely need to come with me or risk losing connection to Daedala."

  Lyra hesitated for a moment. "Are the people of your faction kind to humans?"

  It was Zeph's turn to laugh. "Of course they are, don't you know your own kind when you see them."

  Lyra didn't take her eyes off of Dane's. Blue's, Green's, and Violet's flitted across his opal eyes. "Yes, most of the settlement is human."

  "And what about you? What are you?"

  "Something else," Dane said as he passed over an offer from his interface.

  Lyra accepted it, and he received a notification.

  Lyra Ironwood has joined your faction—Legion -8 reputation.

  Another notification appeared in Dane's vision, this one with a different system title at the heading: The Praetorium.

  You have declared war on the Legion. Tormund, the head of the Ironwood line, will be waiting at the crucible.

  Well, that certainly wasn't a good thing.

  The three of them moved forward together, the blackened earth and sulfurous air pressing closer around them. Dane felt the weight of Zeph's words linger, the reminder of caution and foresight. He pushed the thoughts from his mind. His artifacts hummed in sync. The Phoenix was close by, and he didn't have time to regret his decision to bring Lyra to the Earthbound System.