Several Hours Later

“So… these are the Fog Islands, huh?”

“Can’t imagine why they’re called that…” Austin drawled as he joined the other Keys in looking out the windows of the craft they all stood in — and the dense fog that filled their view. Nothing but dim gray could be seen outside the windows, and even that was only due to the aircraft’s own lights; between several hours of passing time, and the Fog Islands being several hours ahead of Compound Tresnon, the islands should have been lit by the early rising sun. But the fog was so thick, that even sunlight failed to pierce it.

“You know, I’m used to morning fog…” Conrad remarked, “but this is something else.”

“Mm…” Kestrel nodded. “Very dark.”

“I’d heard the stories…” Obra muttered, “but even I didn’t think it’d be this fogged up…”

Austin passed Obra a quick glance, and then turned to look over his surroundings. The eight Keys, Obra, Hackett, Kirstin, and Gavon currently sat within the cabin of Pallan’s personal airship. While austere in decor, the cabin was large enough to fit all of the passengers, and the seats were quite comfortable. Luke and Liask laid in a compartment in the back, cordoned off from the rest of the craft by energy shields, while Saito, Kaoné, and Rebehka accompanied Pallan on the craft’s bridge. A small snack bar was located in the front, which Conrad had already plundered during the previous several hours. At that moment, Hackett, Kirstin, and Gavon were sitting near the front, conversing in low tones, while Pierce and Phoenix sat by themselves near the back. Everyone else — Austin, Spike, Sky, Twy, Conrad, Kestrel, and Obra — were in the center of the cabin, their attention glued to the windows despite not actually being able to see anything.

“What a fuckin’ place…” Spike remarked, trying his best to look down and up through the windows — only to spy more fog. “…How the hell is it safe to fly through this? You can’t see shit!”

“Even old aircraft on Earth have a variety of tools and instruments to help fly when visibility is low,” Twy pointed out. “I’m sure the Nimalians have even better tools than us. Not to mention energy shields, in case we run into anything.”

“Energy shields? On an airplane?” Sky responded incredulously.

“I mean, this pretty clearly isn’t an airplane,” Conrad said. “You saw how it looked when we boarded, there weren’t any wings. Looked more like a spaceship than a plane.”

“And this is supposed to be that Pallan bastard’s ‘personal’ airship,” Obra muttered. “Fuckin’ outsiders, man. Ain’t no way anyone in Treséd could afford somethin’ like this…”

Austin passed Obra a wary glance before turning to look out the windows again. “…What about those stories?” he questioned, “you know, about the Fog Islands.”

“Those…?” Obra looked over at Austin, and then shrugged. “Ain’t much to say. It’s just shit about people gettin’ lost, losin’ their navigation tools, shit like that. Some people say the place is haunted, too, but that’s just stupid.”

“Not a believer in ghosts, huh?” Conrad remarked.

“No point in believin’ in fake horror shit when there’s plenty of real horror shit in Treséd.”

“…Oh. Uh… …right.”

“…Well,” Twy said with a sigh, “here’s hoping that what we’re looking for is here, at least.”

“A machine that can cure the infection…” Spike muttered. “…Almost sounds too good to be true.”

“Might not be,” Kestrel said.

“True…” Conrad mused. “From what we’ve heard, Pallan didn’t find any cure machine.”

“Yeah, but the important part is that there’s still more to find,” Austin urged. “Remember, Pallan said that there are parts of the facility that he thinks only Keys can access — that’s us! If a machine that can cure Luke exists, it’ll definitely be there!”

“Don’t forget about Liask,” Obra quickly interjected. “Not everythin’ is about y’all, you fuckin’ outsiders.”

“We could say the same to you,” Sky shot back, her hands on her hips as she turned to give Obra a disapproving look. “Just because we have someone that we care about doesn’t mean that we’re ignoring the person that you care about!”

Obra stared back at her in surprise, only to turn away with a scowl. “…Hmph.”

“Hey, don’t worry, man,” Conrad said. “We’re here to cure both Liask and Luke, right? No one’s forgetting anyone.”

“…You better be right,” Obra replied, and then glanced back at Pierce — who was still sitting by himself, his gaze focused downward. “…But if I have to go back to Minilas without Liask, then I’m blamin’ y’all.”

“…Ugh.” Conrad shrugged and sighed in resignation. “Ever the pleasant person, I see.”

“I do wonder what we’ll find, though,” Twy said. “And why Pallan thinks that only we can access part of the facility…”

“It’s ancient Aldredian tech, or somethin’, right?” Spike replied. “Hard to imagine what we’ll find. Could be anything…”

As the Keys began discussing what they thought they might find at the center of the islands, Hackett watched them from the front of the cabin, only to heave a deep breath and turn back to Gavon and Kirstin.

“Something wrong, Major?” Gavon asked, taking note of Hackett’s quiet sigh. “…Aside from Luke, that is.”

Hackett passed him a glance before shaking her head. “…It’s nothing,” she insisted. “Just… remembering when I was young and optimistic.”

“Ah. Heh, yes, age does have a depressing way of stamping that out of you.”

“Y-you’re not… that old…” Kirstin said.

“True,” Hackett remarked with a small smirk, only to soon return to a dour expression. Looking over at Gavon, she asked, “what do you make of all of this?”

“Of Luke being infected?” Gavon responded. “Or of this big secret in the Fog Islands that the Archoné has been keeping?”

“I meant the latter, but now that you mention it — Dean Densalin said that Travis’s infection has progressed far faster than normal. Does that sound right, to you?”

“Well, I haven’t worked with the infection, that much… but I think the Dean is on to something. I’ve never heard of the infection getting this bad, this quickly, except when the victim was infected through a massive, debilitating wound… Luke’s injury looked bad, to be sure, but not quite that bad…”

“L-Liask, too…” Kirstin pointed out.

“Yeah…” Gavon nodded. “I’m no expert, like Kaoné or Rebehka, but I’m inclined to agree with them — something is up.” He then turned to look out the cabin windows, at the dark gray void outside. “But, supposedly, whatever’s here should help with that.”

“You think this cure machine really exists, then?” Hackett questioned.

Gavon shrugged. “That, I can’t say. But if Archoné Culana found something, and even went through the effort of hiding it, then I’m sure there’s something of substance, here. I mean, perhaps it’s just because I was born Riveranian — but Archoné Culana’s actions have always seemed quite deliberate to me, even when motivated by that Oraculm of his.”

“Hmm…” Hackett sighed. “…I still find all of this hard to believe. That all of this was found through… prophecies, of all things. How can that possibly be?”

“Well, I don’t know that it was entirely down to the Oraculm,” Gavon refuted. “It’s often overlooked, but the Fog Islands are actually Riveranian territory.”

“Really…?”

“Yeah. But they’re classified as a nature reserve, and barred from public entry, on account of all the people who have disappeared, here. Considering that, I don’t think it’s hard to believe that the government was investigating the islands on their own time, and that, eventually, they’d find whatever it is that the Archoné found.”

“B-but…” Kirstin responded warily, “wh-what about the, um, sp-spacetime maze…?”

Gavon shrugged again. “Can’t say. We haven’t had a chance to look at the tech that’s producing this so-called maze.” He then looked out the window again. “But… if the Archoné really is right about there being an ancient Aldredian outpost at the center of the islands… then I’m sure we’ll know for sure just what’s going on once we get there.”

“Some concrete answers would be nice…” Hackett replied, joining Gavon in staring idly into the exterior darkness.

As the officers fell into contemplative silence, the quiet conversation of Obra and the Keys again dominated the cabin. Sitting aside from the group, however, near to the back, was Pierce — sitting hunched over, his hands clasped in front of him and his gaze turned downward. Not once did he ever respond to any of the tidbits of conversation that he overheard, instead choosing to stew in his own thoughts.

“…Pierce.”

While barely moving his body, Pierce glanced to the side, taking note of Phoenix as she slowly approached him. “…Mn,” he grunted in response. “What do you want?”

Phoenix pinched the bridge of her nose, her lips pursed as she fought the reflexive urge to snap back at Pierce. Eventually, she heaved a wary sigh, and then took a seat next to him. “I… …I just wanted to apologize.”

Pierce eyed her for a moment before returning to staring at the floor. “…For what?”

“For… everything.”

“What happened to Liask wasn’t your fault.”

“I don’t know that that’s true…”

A moment of silence passed as Pierce again turned to look at Phoenix, his expression unreadable. “…What do you mean?”

“When you got yourself captured, Liask was the one who pushed for us to rescue you,” Phoenix replied, this time averting her gaze from Pierce. “And if I had listened to her from the start, instead of pushing back… we could’ve reached you sooner, and dealt with that whole situation before that beast even entered the picture.”

“Heh…” Pierce chuckled bitterly. “You pushed back against my rescue, huh? Honestly… you were probably right. The Compound had bigger problems to deal with at the time; you would’ve been better off fighting the Bleeders. And if you’d done that, or hell, just stayed back, then Liask wouldn’t be in trouble, right now.”

“Yeah, and you’d be dead,” Phoenix retorted. “Is that really better?”

“…”

“…Look…” Phoenix pinched the bridge of her nose again, her brow furrowed. “…Looking at things rationally… I think that you giving yourself up to save the rest of us wasn’t a bad play. But, despite you being willing to put your own life on the line for us — no matter the reason — I still refused to put mine on the line for yours. All because… I just couldn’t fucking get over myself.”

“…What do you mean?”

“I just… …this is so petty, but I couldn’t get over you and Liask. I got so wrapped up in trying to beat you, in thinking that you were an insufferable jerk, that I just couldn’t believe that maybe, you might not have been as much of an asshole as I thought… and I let that bitterness get the better of me. If not for that, I think things would’ve turned out differently.”

Pierce responded with silence, watching Phoenix out the corner of his eye as she heaved a deep sigh. He then turned his attention back to the floor… only to release another bitter chuckle. “Heh… fuck. This little ‘contest’ of ours has really fucked over Liask, hasn’t it?”

“In a sense…”

“You know, it wasn’t just you,” Pierce said. “A few months ago, I was the bitter one. Hell, my bitterness almost got Austin killed.”

“You’re talking about Sikalia, aren’t you? I knew it was suspicious that you and Austin refused to talk about our last night there… so you two really did fight, huh?”

“…Yeah. So you aren’t the only one who’s got problems. In fact, you aren’t even the only one who hurt Liask. See… when Liask and I first started going out, it actually was fake.”

Phoenix turned to look at him incredulously. “What?!”

“Yeah. Liask said she wanted to help me win our contest. Which, you know… obviously, that was just an excuse, right? An excuse to get closer to me.” Pierce sighed. “I even knew that, but I still took her up on her offer, just so I could beat you. I ignored her feelings, because I cared more about showing you up. And when Liask eventually figured that out…”

“…Let me guess. This was just before we left for Karania and Nayasis, right? When Liask and Obra risked themselves to chase after CSF-1?”

Pierce nodded, a bitter smirk on his face. “Yep. And if I’d been honest with her — with myself — from the start, maybe they wouldn’t have gotten into all that trouble.”

“God…” Phoenix sighed again. “…We really are the fucking worst.”

“We really are. And now Liask is suffering, for it…”

“And all of this, after what happened to Trenon… I’m surprised Liask wants anything to do with either of us.”

“You aren’t the only one who’s surprised…”

A moment of silence passed, as both Pierce and Phoenix stared at the floor, unable to meet each other’s gazes.

“…Well…” Phoenix eventually spoke up, “…it feels inappropriate to bring this up now, of all times, but… maybe we should just call off this stupid dating contest. Or, rather, I concede. You win.”

Pierce snorted. “Some fucking win, when we don’t even know if Liask will be alright.”

“…Yeah…”

“But, you’re right. This stupid fucking ‘contest’ of ours has caused enough grief. Let’s just… call it off, and forget that we ever did this.”

“Yeah. …And, Pierce…” Phoenix turned toward Pierce, finally meeting his eyes as she gave him a firm nod. “If there’s a way to save Liask, we’ll find it.”

Pierce returned her gaze, surprise momentarily crossing his face before he fell into a forlorn smile. “…Yeah. Thanks. Here’s hoping.”

“Here’s hoping…” Phoenix echoed quietly, the both of them falling silent once more as they awaited their arrival in the depths of the fog.

---

*

“Well, you can really see why they call this place the Fog Islands. …If you could see at all, that is.”

“I’ve heard the stories, but I’ve never been here, myself…” Kaoné remarked, passing Saito a quick glance before looking forward again. “The fog is so thick, that even the morning sun can’t reach us…”

“Oh, there’s quite a bit more going on here than the thickness of the fog,” Pallan declared, all while keeping his hands on the control column of his personal airship. In front of him was the dashboard of the ship, featuring all manner of dials and instruments, while above that was a large windshield… through which only pitch black darkness could be seen, contrasted even further by the dimly lit bridge. Joining Pallan on the small bridge were Colonel Saito, Kaoné, and Rebehka, each of them occupying a seat beside or behind Pallan as they joined him in looking out into the exterior darkness.

“I can hardly believe that you’re flying the ship without being able to see anything…” Rebehka muttered. “…Is this because of the Oraculm?”

Pallan chuckled. “Oh, no, not at all. Not entirely,” he replied with a knowing smile. “The Oraculm provided the directions, but, well. I may be old, compared to all of you, but I have AR implants all the same. My ship’s sensor and instrument readouts are transmitted to my implants, where they construct a holographic representation of the environment around us, as well as arrows indicating in what direction and speed I should fly.”

“Oh… right…”

“I’m a little surprised the information goes straight to your implants,” Saito said. “I’d think that the ship would have a HUD setup on the bridge, so that anyone could fly it.”

“Normally, there would indeed be a HUD projected onto the windshield,” Pallan replied. “And normally, I am not the pilot. But this is a special case. The directions to the center of the Fog Islands are a secret of the utmost importance.”

“So much so that you can’t tell us?” Rebehka questioned impatiently.

Pallan nodded. “I am sorry, but yes.”

“And these directions came from the Oraculm, you say…” Kaoné mused, while looking around the bridge. “Does that mean that you brought it with you?”

“Not at all,” Pallan declared. “It is more than possible to transcribe information presented by the Oraculm, after all. I have no need to carry it with me everywhere — doing so would be an incredible security risk.”

“Hmm…” Saito passed Pallan a glance. “…When, and how, exactly, did you find this place?”

“About ten years ago,” Pallan replied. “Efforts to figure out the true nature of the Fog Islands had been long ongoing, by that point, but with no success. It was only when the relevant text appeared in the Oraculm that I was able to figure out the islands’ true nature, and a path to their center.”

“You’re saying that text appeared in the Oraculm? I thought it was just a big book.”

“A common misconception. The Oraculm, in truth, is a living document, ever changing its prophecies and predictions to match the present-day state of affairs.”

“So it corrects itself, is what you’re saying? Doesn’t that mean that the future isn’t set in stone?”

“It would,” Pallan replied. “Such is why I guard its secrets so closely. Knowledge of the Oraculm’s predictions can jeopardize their fulfillment.”

“I’ve always wondered how, exactly, the Oraculm works…” Kaoné mused. “I’m sure it has something to do with Chaos Energy, but… well, Archoné, you’ve not exactly been open with letting others research the matter.”

“I apologize, but that is simply how things must be.”

“How insufferable…” Rebehka muttered. “And what about the Fog Islands? Are we really supposed to believe that we can only access this place because of the Oraculm?”

“It is possible to discover the correct path without it,” Pallan admitted, “but it would be incredibly difficult, indeed. I’ve already mentioned to you how these islands are covered in a maze of spacetime. Essentially, there is a ‘tunnel’ of space that winds through the islands, and stepping outside of that tunnel puts you on an irreversible path back to the space on the outside of the islands. This is not beaming or teleportation, mind you — space itself is curved and altered. As a result, light and other sensor signals cannot reliably tell you the way forward; once the signal has passed the edge of the tunnel, it emerges outside the islands, and cannot return to you.”

“That’s why it’s so dark, here, then, isn’t it?” Kaoné suggested. “Not because the fog is thick, but because it’s impossible for sunlight to enter this ‘tunnel’…”

Pallan nodded. “Yes, exactly. And also why the facility is impossible to detect from the outside.”

“Shouldn’t it still be easy to see the way forward, though?” Saito asked. “All you need to do is point a flashlight forward, and if you can’t see the light, then you know you’re facing the edge of the ‘tunnel’. Right?”

“That’s where the heavy fog comes in,” Pallan explains. “It obscures such pathfinding attempts. Though there are also holograms and such to further sell the illusion, as I understand it.”

“And how do you know this?” Rebehka pressed. “Like you said, if space itself is folded, then sensor equipment won’t be able to tell you any of this — not easily, anyways. So how did you figure it out? And don’t say that it was the Oraculm, or I swear to the skies…”

The Archoné let loose an amused laugh. “Oh no, not at all,” he replied with a smile. “The Oraculm is light on scientific explanations. No, the reason I know what I do is because I accessed the Aldredian outpost. Its computer systems told me about the surrounding area, and the protections that the Aldredas put in place to protect this outpost.”

“Assuming that’s true…” Saito mused, “…now, I have to wonder just how many of these kinds of outposts are hidden, out there…”

“And if each of them have a machine that can cure the infection, as well…” Kaoné added.

“We still do not know if this outpost does,” Pallan corrected. “But I am sure that we will find out soon.”

“How soon?” Rebehka questioned.

“Quite soon,” Pallan replied with a small smile. “…After all, we’re here.”

“We are…?” Kaoné responded, perking up to look out the bridge window. While still pitch black, the fog had given way, allowing the floodlights from Pallan’s airship to actually reach and illuminate the surrounding environment. As the lights slowly swept to and fro, they painted a picture of three small, two-story buildings, connected by small corridors and constructed out of blackish silver metal — not unlike the other Aldredian outposts that CSF-1 had discovered. Grasses and old vines covered the buildings, and old, dead trees dotted the landscape all around, accompanied by old dilapidated fencing.

“There’s dead plants…” Kaoné observed. “But they haven’t rotted away. How can that be? If this is an ancient Aldredian outpost, then this place should have been blocked from the sun for thousands and thousands of years…”

“Until relatively recently, I believe this outpost projected artificial sunlight onto its surroundings, so as to keep the wildlife alive,” Pallan explained. “But according to the outpost logs, those systems failed a few hundred years ago. Several of the maintenance systems have failed, as well. I suspect that it won’t be long before the rest of the outpost follows.”

“I suppose that might explain why the Oraculm suddenly told you about it, then. So that it wouldn’t be lost forever.”

“And more importantly, Captain Travis won’t last forever, either,” Saito pointed out, already in the process of standing from his seat to leave the bridge. “And neither will that Tresédian girl. So let’s set this ship down and see what we can find, here.”

“Of course, Colonel,” Pallan replied as he began to lower his ship to the ground and prepare for landing, all while Kaoné and Rebehka stood up to follow Saito out of the bridge. “I am most interested to see what we might discover, as well…”