Meanwhile, on the planet Tikujiqu, deep within the clan-lands of Furghoria, four Oygigyan warriors were on their routine patrol. These weren't just any warriors; they were the fierce protectors of their lands, with bodies like humans but graced with the powerful, sleek features of the great feline hunters of old Earth. Kakma, with his broad, muscled shoulders and a mane like a lion's, moved with silent strength. Majbrel, agile and cunning, bore the distinctive spots of a leopard, her eyes sharp and piercing. Kerkete had the lean, striped form of a tiger, his movements fluid and deadly, while Nedic, quick as a cheetah, showed the delicate, tufted ears and intelligent gaze of a lynx, with a long, thick tail that swayed with his every shift. Their clothing was something out of an ancient tale, too: flowing, light-colored tunics and skirts woven from luminous, sea-green fabrics, cinched at the waist with ornate belts that gleamed with polished, shell-like adornments. Their forearms and calves were wrapped in spiraling bands of intricate gold, reminiscent of the grand, ethereal beauty whispered about in the legends of Ancient Atlantis.
They had been traversing the ancient Fenix Forest on their Glinthors, swift, six-legged creatures with iridescent scales and bioluminescent manes, known for their silent, rapid movement through the densest undergrowth. They were still a good mile or two from the forest's heart when their quiet trek was abruptly shattered by a series of thunderous roars. Massive pieces of metal, fragments of a ship and multiple pods, tore through the thick canopy, crashing down amidst the gnarled branches. The forest, usually a place of serene, ancient whispers, now echoed with the groans of breaking timber and the impact of the falling debris.
Kakma, Majbrel, Kerkete, and Nedic immediately geared up, their senses heightened, hands instinctively moving to their weapons. These weren't just simple blades; these were extensions of their very will, forged with ancient knowledge and the planet's own power. Kakma reached for his Storm-Caller Hammer, its polished stone head humming faintly with captured lightning. Majbrel swiftly drew her twin Sun-Blade Scimitars, their curved edges shimmering with a focused, burning heat. Kerkete grasped his Shadow-Weave Spear, its obsidian tip seemingly drinking the surrounding light, promising swift, silent strikes. And Nedic, ever vigilant, unsheathed his Wind-Whisper Daggers, their keen edges vibrating with controlled air currents, allowing for incredibly fast, precise movements. Each weapon was more than just metal or stone; it was a conduit, designed to harness the elements or some inherent power of Tikujiqu itself, allowing its wielder to fight with the fury of nature.
They exchanged tense glances; this was no meteor shower, no natural disaster. This was something... else. They urged their Glinthors forward, the creatures moving with surprising grace and speed despite the chaos, weaving through the thick trees, following the fresh scars of the impact. As they cautiously approached the disturbance, pushing through the thick undergrowth that seemed to hum with new, unnatural energy, a collective gasp escaped them.
Through the shimmering mists and dense foliage, they could discern forms of beings unlike any they had ever encountered—an unknown species, undeniably intelligent, now in their world. The very air around these crashed fragments felt different, charged with a strange, foreign power that made the hair on their necks stand on end.
"What in the blazes are these creatures?" Kakma rumbled, his voice tight with an unfamiliar tension, as he peered through the dense foliage. His gaze was fixed on the alien figures below. "They've no fur, no feathers, no scales... What be those queer rags they wear? And that metal! What sort of hide is that?" He exhaled slowly, a sound of profound disorientation, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "And how did they come here without our sensors finding 'em, by the Ancestors' beard?"
Nedic, ever efficient, was already patching a line back to the Oygigya village base, his fingers quick on his comm unit. "Informing the elders and clan-chiefs," he stated, his voice a low, focused hum. "We've an event unlike any before. Big metal things, unknown folk, a terrible crash."
Beside Kakma, Majbrel let out a soft, astonished sound, his leopard-spotted fur bristling slightly. "They look like... the folk from the old writings," he breathed, his eyes wide, fixed on the shapes of the humans as they worked near the wreckage. "The Outsiders, from the Scrolls of First Light! The ones spoken of only in whispers, who crossed the void!"
Kerkete, his tiger stripes seeming to ripple with his excitement, nodded vigorously, eyes alight with recognition. "Exactly! Mind our history lessons? "The tales of the 'Chosen People' returning, just like you always said, Nedic!" He nudged Nedic with his elbow. "You told us these stories weren't just for sleep, didn't you, you daft wee rascal?"
Nedic paused his transmission, looking up with a self-satisfied, almost fervent grin, his lynx ears twitching. "I told you all those stories weren't just campfire tales, aye! The Great Spirit has sent 'em! And the stars lined up, just as foretold!" "This isn't just a crash, it's a sign! "A revealing from the ancient tellings themselves, clear as the twin moons on a bright night!" He looked from Majbrel to Kerkete, his eyes shining with conviction. "Our folk have waited for ages for the return of the Sky-Travelers, to bring in the Age of Unity!"
Kakma, however, snapped, his lion's mane bristling with irritation. "Nonsense, Nedic! Quiet that wild talk! This be a strange thing of science, not a holy sign. They be unknowns, not 'Chosen People.' Rules demand care, not prophecies! Get back to base as ordered. We'll check this trouble with proper ways, not old fables." He gestured sharply with his chin towards the wreckage. "Move. And keep that talk open for news. The Council needs hard facts, not hopeful blather, by the hammer!" Despite his firm tone, a subtle tremor in his hand, hidden within the folds of his shimmering, sea-green tunic, betrayed the depth of his unease and the monumental weight of this unforeseen arrival.
As Kakma finished speaking, his eyes, ever vigilant, caught movement in the distant tree line. "Hold!" he hissed, flattening himself further into the undergrowth. "More of them!"
From their hidden vantage point, the Oygigya warriors watched, silent and unmoving, as the scene at the crash site grew. They saw the 'Outsiders' grunt and strain, their unfamiliar limbs pushing against impossibly heavy sections of their fallen craft. They observed the strange tools that glowed and whirred, cutting through metal with effortless ease, yet without fire. Then, from the very edge of the clearing, two distinct groups of the aliens began to converge.
One group, the one they had initially been observing, seemed to be coming from deeper within the forest, their movements suggesting they had been exploring the strange, glowing ruins that had just been uncovered by the crash. They carried odd, shimmering devices and peculiar, elegant weapons. Majbrel's eyes suddenly went wide, locked onto a specific slender spear with a clear crystal tip being handled by one of the 'Outsiders'.
"By the Ancestors' breath!" Majbrel gasped, his voice barely a whisper, a tremor running through his spotted fur. "Look! That weapon... the one with the glowing tip, carried by the short one. I've seen it, I tell you!"
Kakma, impatient, turned to him. "Seen it? Where, Majbrel? In a dream, you daft fool?"
"No, not a dream, you thickhead!" Majbrel insisted, pointing with a trembling claw. In the Ancient Lesson Books! The ones from our childhood, from the Elder's teachings! Remember the pictures? "The 'Sky-Scepter of the Ancients,' they called it, always drawn with a clear, shining head, said to channel the very light of the stars!"
Kerkete leaned in, his eyes following Majbrel's gaze. "He's right, by the beard of the ancients! And look at that curved blade the taller one carries! The 'Sun-Drinker Scimitar'! We used to draw them in the sand during lessons! They were just tales, stories about the folk who built the lost cities, the ones who could rule the sky!" His excitement, already high, reached a fever pitch.
Nedic's grin widened, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. "See, Kakma? Proof! This isn't just a crash, it's a coming home! They carry the very tools of the old ones! "The Great Spirit guides 'em, aye!"
Kakma's expression hardened, but a flicker of profound doubt crossed his face. He stared at the weapon in the human's hand, then back at Majbrel, the image from the ancient texts now clear in his own memory. "A chance happening, I say! A strange thing. We still didn't know their purpose." His logical mind struggled against the overwhelming visual evidence of their own prophecies. The other group, smaller, emerged from a different direction, their faces smudged with grime, their hands empty save for what looked like crude, heavy tools. They looked exhausted but excited, gesturing towards the largest section of the wreckage.
The Oygigya noted the coordinated movements, the brief, sharp vocalizations between them, and the grim determination on their smooth, hairless faces. There was no direct interaction, no attempt at contact; only a profound, silent study of these utterly alien beings as they labored, bringing what seemed to be salvaged parts back together.
Kakma's eyes narrowed. "Two different search groups, then. They're gathering their scattered bits. We need to report this right away, and quickly! Their skills... they be far beyond what we have."
With the scene at the crash site fully observed, and their data logs filled with every detail, Kakma gave the silent command. "Enough!" he rumbled, pulling back further into the shadows. We've seen all we can for now. We must return, lads!"
Without another word, the four Oygigya warriors turned, mounting their waiting Glinthors. The six-legged creatures moved with silent grace, their iridescent scales shimmering like liquid moonlight as they backed away from the chaos, melting back into the dense embrace of the Fenix Forest. The urgency of their mission now weighed heavily, silencing even Nedic's prophetic fervor. The forest, still echoing with the distant sounds of alien labor, seemed to sigh as they departed.
Their journey back was swifter, driven by the need to inform the elders. Night had fully fallen now, and as they rode, a large, brilliant blue orb began to rise slowly above the distant mountains, casting an ethereal, cool glow through the ancient trees. The bioluminescent manes of their Glinthors shimmered, lighting their way through the deepening twilight of the Fenix. Finally, the forest thinned, and the majestic sight of their home came into view.
The Oygigya village was nestled perfectly, a harmonious blend of nature and architecture. It stood proudly near the very edge of the forest, where the ancient trees gave way to the soaring base of the mountain. On one side, two rivers carved through the landscape: a tranquil, crystalline river on the ground flowed steadily towards the west. And, impossibly, directly above it, held aloft by unseen energies, another great river floated in the air, its shimmering waters gleaming under the rising blue, flowing calmly but distinctly in the opposite direction, towards the east. Buildings carved directly into the mountain rock or woven from glowing, organic materials dotted the landscape, connected by bridges of shimmering light. Smoke curled from communal hearths, and the soft hum of the village life, so different from the foreign buzz of the crash site, welcomed them.
As they dismounted their Glinthors, the weight of what they had witnessed pressed down on them. Kakma looked at his companions, his gaze unreadable. This "First Contact" was nothing like the tales. It was silent, unsettling, and just might change their world forever, by the Aetherion!
A Dream
The soft, ethereal glow of the alien flora cast dancing shadows within Leader Kekeya's tent. Outside, the familiar sounds of the Fieldarno camp—the gentle rustle of fabric, the distant hoot of a night owl—were a stark contrast to the charged silence inside. Most of the family slept soundly, oblivious to the momentous decisions being made.
Inside the tent, the scent of damp earth and suppressed urgency hung heavy. Kekeya sat at the head of a makeshift table, her gaze sweeping over the assembled figures. To her right sat the four Elders: Lekenneth, his face etched with the wisdom of countless seasons; Drenba, her eyes sharp and discerning even in the dim light of the bioluminescent lanterns; Ricchy, whose quiet demeanor belied a keen intellect; and Harry, who was most attentive.
Across from them sat the teams who had brought forth the night's astounding revelations. Morgan and Andrew of the Alpha team, still wearing the dust of the wreckage, their faces alight with a mix of exhaustion and triumph. And from the Beta team, Artemus and Yenipha, their expressions a blend of wonder and unease from their encounter with the ancient ruins. Bravid Sr. and Fyelona were also present, their roles as central command now more critical than ever.
"Thank y'all for answering this summons," Kekeya began, her voice a low murmur that wouldn't carry beyond the tent's canvas. "I understand the hour is late, but the intelligence you've brought us is too critical to wait until morning."
Alpha Team's Report
Kekeya gestured to Morgan and Andrew. "Morgan, Andrew, let's start with your discovery. Tell us again, in detail, what you found in the wreckage."
Morgan leaned forward, her excitement still palpable. "Now listen here, Leader, Elders! We done found a good, big piece of that main mess hall, and even more importantly, we found the hydroponics bay! And honey, it ain't just the structure, oh no. It's what's inside that counts. We are talking about a substantial amount of preserved food here, from the ship's original stores. Enough to make a real difference for our people!"
Andrew chimed in, "Enough is an understatement; it's enough to secure our long-term survival. The challenge is getting it back—the debris field is still dangerous—but the yield is unprecedented. He pulled up a map on his ESB of the way they went. "We've identified potential access points, and initial structural integrity looks promising for a recovery operation. We'll need extra hands and those reinforced sleds to bring it back."
The Elders exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of relief and cautious optimism. Ricchy nodded slowly. "This is indeed a blessing." The question of sustained nourishment has weighed heavily on all our hearts."
Beta Team's Report
Kekeya then turned to Artemus and Yenipha. "And now, to the Beta team's findings. "Artemus, Yenipha, what did your scouting mission reveal?"
Artemus shifted, his earlier excitement now tinged with a more somber tone. "Leader, Elders… our findings are… different. We located what appears to be ancient ruins, a whole buried city, hidden beneath the overgrown landscape. The entrance isn't far from our camp, near where that big tree broke through the pod landing path. Inside, we found strange artifacts, unlike anything we've ever seen. And what we believe to be weapons, unlike any modern design, with intricate, glowing symbols."
Yenipha continued, her voice hushed with awe. The most striking aspects, though, were the symbols on the walls and on the metallic tablets. They're unlike any known script, but they evoke a profound sense of… something ancient, something powerful. The entire area gives off a strange vibe, a feeling of immense history and perhaps, latent energy. There's also a small, spherical orb that floats and hums with power."
"Beyond the artifacts," Artemus added, "the site itself is remarkable." There are clearly designated spaces for living and, critically, a pristine water source that seems to flow directly from within the ruins themselves. "It's almost as if the site was designed for long-term habitation."
Drenba, the Elder with discerning eyes, spoke, "Weapons? Ancient structures? And symbols? This requires careful study. Is there any indication of who built this, or what its purpose was? Why did and who left it?"
Yenipha shook her head. "None that we could discern immediately. The feeling of the place, though, was undeniable. It felt… significant. Like it's been waiting."
Kekeya steepened her gaze, taking in all the information. "So, we have a potentially vast new food source from the wreckage—an immediate, tangible lifeline. And we have an ancient, enigmatic ruin with powerful artifacts, strange symbols, a new water source, and a profound sense of history. Both are momentous. We need to decide our immediate priorities."
She looked from the Elders to the teams. "Before we discuss the logistics of extraction and further exploration, I want to hear your initial thoughts. Elders, what is your counsel on these two extraordinary discoveries?"
Lekenneth, usually the most reserved, was the first to speak. "Food is paramount, Leader. Without it, the other discoveries mean little in the long run. We must secure our survival first."
Ricchy nodded in agreement. "Indeed." The stomach must be full before the mind can explore. "The wreckage presents a clear, albeit challenging, path to sustainability."
Drenba, however, turned her sharp gaze to Artemus and Yenipha. "But what of the ruins? The symbols, the orb, the feeling… these are not mere curiosities. Such a discovery could hold knowledge that transcends our current understanding, perhaps even a key to understanding this world, or our place in it. And a new water source is invaluable."
Lekenneth clasped his hands, his brow furrowed. "We face a choice between immediate survival and profound potential. The food will sustain us, but the ruins… they could define us. "Harry, Ricchy, what are your strategic insights?"
Harry, ever pragmatic, spoke first. "Leader, Elders, the food from the Phoenix is a certainty. We know what it is, we know how to use it, and we know we need it now. Every day we don't bring it in, is a day our reserves dwindle. The ruins, on the other hand... they're an unknown. A massive unknown. The artifacts are strange, the symbols are undecipherable, and that 'vibe' Yenipha talks about? It could be anything. "We need to assess the risk before we commit significant resources."
Ricchy, always weighing the long-term, added, "While Harry's right about the immediate need, we can't ignore the potential of the ruins. A new, clean water source alone is huge, even if we never touch the artifacts. And if those 'spaces for living' are truly habitable, that's a more permanent shelter than our current pods. We could establish a secondary, more defensible position there. We need to consider how these two discoveries interact. Can we extract the food while we cautiously investigate the ruins? The fact that the entrance to the ruins isn't too far from our landing path changes things; it's practically on our doorstep."
Kekeya listened intently, then slowly looked around the tent, her gaze lingering on each face. "So, the core question remains: how do we balance the undeniable, immediate need for sustenance with the profound, yet uncertain, potential of the ancient city? And how do we do it with our limited resources and without alerting the wider camp to the full scope of these finds just yet?"
The tension in the tent was palpable. After a moment of heavy silence, Kekeya made her decision. "Here is how we proceed. Our immediate, undeniable priority is the food. Morgan and Andrew, you will lead the full extraction efforts starting at first light. Ricchy, allocate as many able bodies and sleds as possible to assist them. This is our lifeline."
She then turned to Artemus and Yenipha. "Artemus, Yenipha, your discovery is too significant to ignore, especially with the water source and potential shelter. However, we cannot risk the entire family on an unknown. You will lead a small, dedicated reconnaissance team—no more than ten individuals, chosen for their caution and observation skills. Your mission is to map the immediate accessible areas of the ruins, confirm the stability of the water source, and most importantly, assess for any immediate threats or dangers. Do not touch anything beyond what is necessary for the investigation. We need more data before we commit further resources. Capture as much footage with the ESB devices. This will be a quiet operation, under the guise of extended perimeter scouting."
Harry and Ricchy then exchanged looks. Harry took a deep breath before addressing the team, his expression now even more serious than before. "And there's one more thing we need to share. While teams were out today, the AI system picked up some… unusual activity." He gestured to a large display screen, bringing up a series of faint, grainy images. "Specifically, it located four humanoid beings just outside camp."
Ricchy stepped forward, pointing to the projected images. "As you can see here, these aren't what we expected. They appear to be a mix of human and animal characteristics. The good news is, from what the AI gathered, they just observed us." "They didn't approach or engage, simply watched from a distance before disappearing back into the foliage."
Harry nodded grimly. "But this changes things significantly." Ricchy's right. This means the natives of this area are aware of our presence. "We can no longer assume we're unnoticed, especially now with increased activity around both the wreckage and these ruins."
"Therefore," Ricchy stated, his voice firm and clear, his gaze sweeping over each face, "every team needs to proceed with extreme caution. We've shifted from potential discovery to confirmed observation. Our security protocols are now even more critical. Keep your ESB devices recording at all times, and report anything unusual immediately. We're in their territory now, and we need to act accordingly, with heightened vigilance in all our operations."
The Dream of the Forty-Eight
That night, as the first moonrise cast its ethereal blue glow across their forest camp, a profound stillness settled. Among the sleeping Fieldarno, a select few—unbeknownst to them, the destined Forty-Eight—began to share the same extraordinary dream. Floating frozen islands drifted in a silent void, feathers fell endlessly from an unseen sky, and smoky figures appeared and vanished like breath on cold air.
Then, words, ancient and echoing, filled their minds: "When the earth shudders and the skies weep crimson, when shadows stretch long across the Lost Kingdoms, then shall the Forty-Eight rise. Born of the very soil and storm, each an echo of the world's raw power, they will harness the fury of the flame, the resilience of the stone, the swiftness of the wind, and the depth of the tide. Only by their combined might, a living conduit to the planet's pulse, can the spreading blight be scorched, shattered, dispersed, and drowned. Their hands, shaped by the elements, will bring low those who seek to unravel the fabric of the world, and restore balance."
The dream lingered, a powerful, cryptic message imprinted upon their subconscious minds, even as they continued to sleep, unaware of its shared nature. The dawn would bring the demanding reality of their new home, but for the Forty-Eight, it would also carry the silent echo of a destiny yet to be understood.
The new day dawned, not with the familiar warmth of a sun, but with the unrelenting, almost oppressive glow of a blue moon still hanging impossibly high in that black, star-dusted sky. Its ethereal, cerulean light filtered through the thick, alien forest canopy, painting leaves in shades of violet and indigo, and casting long, distorting shadows that made even familiar faces seem strange and shadowed. From the largest ship pod's makeshift chow hall, the comforting sizzle and aroma of cooking food drifted on the cool morning air, offering only a fleeting, fragile illusion of normalcy.
Yet, the camp wasn't settling into its morning routine. Instead, it was alive with a different kind of energy—a low hum of hushed, anxious conversations. Here and there, a sharp gasp broke the quiet, or a hand flew to cover a trembling mouth.
As the Dreamers entered the chow area, the fragmented visions of the night—the floating islands, the falling feathers, the elusive smoky figures—began to come together into something terrifyingly, undeniably real. A cold, quick fear, like an invisible current, spread like wildfire among them, tightening chests and chilling skin.
An atmosphere thick with unspoken questions and a powerful thirst for answers just hung in the air. With each bearer of those haunting prophecies stepping forward, bathed in that eerie azure glow, a deep revelation unfolded. Their once-familiar brown eyes, the mirrors to their very souls, had undergone a subtle yet striking change. Some sparkled with an unearthly sapphire brilliance, while others shimmered with the deep, hypnotic blue of ocean depths, each hue vibrating with an enigmatic inner radiance.
The solemn telling of the final count was met with a stunned hush, echoing the undeniable truth: there were 38 bearers of the prophecy. The weight of this newfound destiny, now visibly etched upon them, descended upon the Fieldarno family like a heavy shroud, bringing forth a future full of challenges and destinies beyond their wildest imaginings.
The makeshift chow hall, usually a place of hearty chatter and shared comfort, felt heavy with a different kind of energy this morning. Plates of food sat mostly untouched as the Fieldarno family gathered, not for a meal, but for answers. Whispers coiled through the air, all eyes on the 38 standing before them, their transformed eyes now openly visible in the blue moon's light.
"Y'all seeing what I'm seeing?" Yenipha mumbled, nudging her neighbor, Bravid Jr., with her elbow. Look at Berry's eyes. Lord have mercy, they shine like sapphires!"
Bravid Jr. nodded slowly, a troubled look on his face. "And young Vondo over there, his is sunset orange. It's... it's just like the dreams, ain't it?"
Harry stepped forward, his voice trying to cut through all that hushed anxiety, trying to sound strong even though you could hear the tremor. "So, we got some folks to say they had a dream. All dream the same thing. I don't even get that. We've spent the whole morning trying to piece together what we could. Them dreams... them visions... they weren't random, no sir, not one bit. And this here? "This ain't either." He gestured, a little shaky, to the prophecy bearers.
Marie came on up, her face grim. "Listen, y'all. This ain't no random happenstance. This change in our eyes, this innate power we're feeling—it's a direct sign, plain as day, of a connection to this prophecy. It suggests we are not just meant to survive, but to save the last vestiges of this land and free the folks right here."
"Oh, indeed, sweetie, yes," Morgan added, her voice soft but firm, looking at all the stunned faces around them. "These individuals, with all their different eye colors? They are absolutely, positively meant to fulfill specific roles within this prophecy. We don't know the full picture yet, not by a long shot, but it's clear these powers y'all got now, they're going to be crucial."
Just then, Kenody, bless her soul, pushed through the crowd, her face a mix of pure awe and a grim, understanding sorrow. "Hold on, y'all!" "Just hold on a minute." Her voice, usually so calm, was filled with a new urgency. "This... this feels mighty familiar, ain't it? Remember when our folk got sick back in the Phoenix, a few years before we even took off? The one that hit folks out of nowhere, made 'em weak as newborn kittens, barely able to lift a finger, then just left 'em just as fast? Like a bad dream you can't quite shake, only... it happened."
She looked at the 38 standing there, their eyes glowing. "Well, I ran the numbers. Every single one of y'all is standing here right now, with them new eyes, looking all otherworldly... y'all were the very same ones who got sick and then got better, just like that. Instantly, the whole thing was. She shook her head slowly, a deep wrinkle forming between her brows, and a sigh escaped her. "It wasn't any regular flu, bless your hearts. Here, this is something more than just fate; it's a pattern. A pattern we've got to figure out."
The Touch of the Unknown
Berry: Her sapphire eyes wide with a mix of wonder and raw fear, stepping forward from the 38, her voice trembling. "Kenody's right! I thought I was gonna die back in the Phoenix! And now... now my eyes are like this? What in the good Lord's name is happening to us? "Am I gonna... am I gonna get sick again? "Is this gonna hurt us?" A collective murmur of agreement rippled through the rest of the 38, their expressions mirroring Berry's terror.
As Berry's fearful words echoed through the chow hall, the very air began to thrum with a low, deep vibration, like a giant, unseen bell had just been struck. From the direction of the leaders' meeting tent, the tent where the discovered relics were held, a faint, ethereal hum began to grow louder. Then, the canvas flap of the tent snapped open as if by an unseen hand. Floating slowly through the opening, bathed in an eerie light of its own, was a long, slender implement with a clear, glowing tip. It drifted silently, almost purposefully, toward the center of the chow hall, followed closely by an intricately carved crystal box, throbbing with a soft, violet glow. A faint, sweet, unfamiliar scent, like rain on ancient stones, wafted from them, mingling with the metallic tang already present in the air.
Gasps erupted throughout the chow hall. Children cried out, clutching at their parents. Adults stumbled back, knocking over stools and sending plates clattering.
Claudia: Not one of the 38, shrieking, pointing a shaky finger at the floating objects. "Whoa! What in tarnation are those things? They just... they just came out of the tent!"
Artemus: His own eyes wide with a mixture of fear and pure wonder, stammering. "The... the artifacts! They're... they're moving! And that smell... it wasn't there before. It feels like... like they're listening to us. Like they heard Berry!"