The mysterious puppeteer turned out to be a bird.

  Not just any bird—it loomed taller than even the macaws that roamed the island’s core. One of its legs had been replaced with a tree trunk, gnarled and smoothed into a crude wooden stump that pounded the earth with each step. Its feathers were a chaotic patchwork of mottled green, shot through with streaks of red, the brightest of which flared defiantly on its throat. One of its eye sockets was hollow, a dark void framed by wiry feathers. The other eye, however, gleamed with startling clarity—intelligent, almost human.

  It was a one-eyed, wooden-legged parrot.

  And there, perched stiffly on each shoulder, were two men.

  On one side was Ratu. His hands clutched a ridge of feathers like reins with the white-knuckled grip of someone holding on because they couldn’t let go.

  On the other side sat another islander, broad-shouldered and bald. He looked more relaxed than Ratu, but not by choice. There was a heaviness in his eyes, a dullness that spoke of resignation.

  A name shimmered in the air above the creature, rendered in ominous red letters:

  Redbeard, the Ruthless

  Lvl. 99

  ?????

  Deckard tilted his head. He’d seen humans with parrots on their shoulders.

  This was the first time he’d seen a pirate parrot with humans.

  Maybe when Makoa said “p’rets,” he hadn’t meant pirates after all.

  Maybe he meant parrots.

  Or both?

  Ratu opened his mouth, but the words that came out weren’t his own.

  “So… you dared to come looking for more trouble,” the parrot said, using Ratu as a mouthpiece.

  It wasn’t a question. It was an accusation.

  “I don’t want trouble,” Deckard replied calmly. “I was just exploring.”

  The creature didn’t budge. It took a heavy step forward, its wooden leg thudding into the earth with a weight that made the ground tremble.

  Then it paused.

  The parrot’s head tilted, its one good eye narrowing in on Deckard. Slowly, it leaned closer, feathers rustling with each calculated movement. Its beak hovered inches from his cheek as it sniffed the air with exaggerated purpose.

  “I smell something… faint,” it said, voice slipping through Ratu’s mouth. “You have more subdimensionalizations in you.”

  It sniffed again, this time with sharp, deliberate intakes.

  “Is that the scent of legendary subdimensionalizations?”

  Deckard swallowed hard. Last time, it had only claimed to smell the ones that used to belong to it. And even then, Deckard was already holding a legendary card.

  Could it be… with the addition of another, the scent’s become too strong? Too strong to leak out of the Dimensional Binder?

  “You’ve obtained more than one legendary card,” the creature continued, voice low but unmistakably certain.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Deckard replied, keeping his tone level.

  “Lies!” the parrot screeched—this time in its own rasping voice, raw with fury.

  The sound echoed across the jungle, scattering birds from the canopy above.

  Deckard flinched. “You promised you’d leave me alone,” he snapped. “Was that just a lie?”

  Redbeard paused mid-motion, rustling its feathers. Then, with deliberate calm, it began to preen.

  “I never said I wouldn’t show myself again,” the creature said, smoothing one wing with its beak. “I only promised I wouldn’t hunt you down. But I said nothing about not proposing any more... challenges.”

  Deckard raised an eyebrow. “Challenges?”

  “Let’s play a game,” Redbeard said. “If you win, I’ll let you browse my treasure hoard and even let you take anything you want. But if I win…” The creature leaned forward. “I get all your cards.”

  Deckard narrowed his eyes. “And what exactly is in your treasure hoard?”

  Redbeard tilted its head. “What isn’t?”

  The massive bird crouched, allowing Ratu to clamber down. He trembled as he approached. His eyes met Deckard’s. They were pleading. Desperate.

  Ratu extended a fan of golden cards with both hands.

  Deckard’s breath caught. At least ten legendary cards gleamed in Ratu’s grasp.

  Ratu shifted the cards slightly, subtly—like he wanted Deckard to see more, to understand something. It was just a flick of movement. A risk.

  But then Redbeard let out a sharp squawk, low and warning.

  Ratu flinched. His mouth tightened. Without a word, he turned and scurried back to Redbeard’s side, clutching the cards to his chest.

  “See? So? What do you say?” Redbeard asked.

  Deckard tapped his chin, thinking.

  Should I risk it? If Redbeard uses the same deck from our last encounter, I might have a shot.

  He'd seen part of it—knew some of its cards. The problem was that Redbeard had more than one deck at his disposal. He had lent Ratu the cards for a fox aggro deck and a shark ramp build. He could easily field something entirely different this time.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Tempting. So tempting. But...

  There were too many unknowns. And far too much to lose.

  “I’ll pass.”

  The parrot stomped the ground, feathers bristling with fury. “You dare offend me by refusing my invitation?”

  Deckard turned casually, waving a hand over his shoulder. “See you later.”

  He strode toward the edge of the clearing—only to slam face-first into something solid and unseen. A faint shimmer rippled through the air where he’d collided.

  He winced and rubbed his nose. “Can I please leave?”

  Redbeard cackled, a low, rattling sound that echoed off the trees. “I said I wouldn’t chase you or hurt you. I never said anything about not entrapping you.” Its eye gleamed with cruel delight. “You’re in my dimension now, human.”

  Deckard clenched his jaw.

  So the invitation was all fake politeness. I’m trapped.

  He turned back slowly. “Fine. I’ll play. But here’s my condition: if I win, I don’t take just one treasure—I take three. My choice.”

  “Three?” Redbeard’s voice spiked. “No way I’m giving up three treasures!”

  “Afraid?”

  Redbeard scoffed loudly.

  “It's like you already know you'll lose. I thought you were a parrot,” Deckard said, cocking his head. “Clearly, I made a mistake.” He folded his arms and leaned forward slightly, voice sharpening. “You’re just a chicken.”

  Redbeard’s feathers flared. “What did you say?”

  “A cowardly chicken,” Deckard repeated, flapping his arms and clucking with theatrical exaggeration.

  “You little—!”

  “No? Fine then. I won't play,” Deckard dropped into the grass, crossed his legs, and stretched out with a yawn. “I’ll just sit here and relax.”

  Redbeard hissed and began pacing in tight, agitated circles. Deckard let out a slow whistle, staring up at the canopy.

  It wasn’t just the risk—it was the imbalance. Wagering everything for the chance to win one card? No. That had to change.

  “Fine,” Redbeard snapped at last, voice brittle. “Two treasures. No more than that.”

  Deckard glanced at Ratu. The fisherman stood frozen, eyes wide. Despite how he’d ended up in this mess, Deckard couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

  He just hoped he wouldn’t regret this next part.

  “Two treasures?” he said. “Only two? Then here’s my condition: if I win, you also free Ratu.”

  “This puppet?” Redbeard asked, surprised. He weighed it for a moment. “Fine.”

  Ratu’s breath hitched. His hands trembled, and he mouthed a silent thank you to Deckard, blinking fast as tears threatened to spill.

  [Jungle’s Puppeteer] has been updated.

  After exploring the island, you’ve finally uncovered the identity of the mysterious puppeteer: a mutated parrot with ties to the pirate underworld. He has challenged you to a Terralore match.

  Quest objectives:

  Defeat the Jungle’s Puppeteer in a Terralore match.

  Deckard sat up, brushing blades of grass from his pants. Better. Not perfect, but better.

  “Give me a moment to prepare.”

  He turned his back on Redbeard and summoned the Terralore deckbuilding menu. The interface flickered to life in front of him. It gave players a clean way to build decks from their collections—and more importantly, it meant he didn’t need to reveal his Dimensional Binder to this greedy pirate.

  The first card he dragged into the deck was [Harmonious Island].

  Harmonious Island ???

  Rarity: Legendary

  Type: Landmark

  Affinity: Island ???

  Cost: 1

  Effect: Unlocks Island synergies.

  Synergy: Draw this card in your opening hand.

  As soon as he did, several cards in his collection shimmered with subtle highlights. He tapped one at random.

  Seagull Call ??

  Rarity: Common

  Type: Skill

  Affinity: ???

  Cost: 1

  Effect: Grant a random seagull in your deck +2. Silence it.

  Synergy: Draw it

  The card used to be aligned with the wind affinity—but now, after syncing with [Harmonious Island], it had shifted to the island affinity. And the synergy effect was a welcome upgrade. Not only did it buff a card—it drew it too.

  Nice. That’s way better than the base version.

  He looked at the other cards that weren’t highlighted by the deckbuilder menu. They hadn’t gained a synergy bonus, but had still attuned to the island's affinity.

  There were nearly a hundred cards to sift through, and he wasn’t about to rush.

  “So? Are we doing this or what?” Redbeard barked through Ratu’s mouth.

  “Not yet!” Deckard called back, eyes still scanning the deck list.

  With a screech of frustration, the parrot slammed its wooden leg into a nearby tree, splintering the trunk in an explosion of bark and leaves. Whether it was posturing or genuine rage, Deckard didn’t flinch.

  There’s no time limit in the quest update. I’ll take as long as I need.

  *

  The sun had long since set, and nearly every tree inside Redbeard’s conjured arena lay shattered or splintered.

  Still, Deckard sat cross-legged on the grass, calmly sorting through his collection.

  “ARGH! SUCH DISRESPECT!” Redbeard screeched. “How dare you make me wait this long? I have places to be! Treasures to pillage!”

  Deckard sneered but didn’t respond. After hours of analysis, he’d narrowed things down to three potential decks. Each had its strengths, but choosing the right one—and refining it—would take more time. And he wasn’t going to rush just because some oversized parrot had a schedule.

  “I’m going to leave for a while,” he said, still scrolling through cards. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Wait—what? Leave? I can’t let you leave!”

  Deckard brought up his system interface and selected Log Out. A thirty-second countdown began to tick.

  “Do you know who I am?” Redbeard bellowed, pacing in tight circles. “Do you know how many people wet themselves at the mere mention of my mighty name? We’re going to do this now! Immediately! I won’t—!”

  And then Deckard was gone.

  *

  “What an annoying chicken,” he muttered, climbing out of the capsule.

  He stretched, blinking against the ambient light of his room. Whatever the devs had programmed Redbeard to believe when a player logged out mid-challenge, Deckard didn’t care. Let it stew. He wasn’t about to gamble his entire card collection without thorough prep.

  He wandered over to his desk and wiped a thin layer of dust from the surface. The computer hadn’t seen much use lately—not since he’d started using the capsule to play.

  Sliding into his old office chair felt nostalgic. Comforting, even.

  He opened his browser and searched for ways to access his Terralore collection outside the capsule. It didn’t take long. There was an official tool that let players sync their accounts and browse their cards digitally. All it took was a few clicks, a quick login validation, and he was in.

  He exported his entire collection to a document, then sent it to the printer.

  An hour later, the room smelled faintly of toner and paper. Deckard sat at the table with scissors in hand, trimming card after card, formatting the makeshift paper deck with care.

  He rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn.

  Still, there was one more thing to do.

  He jumped back onto the browser and searched for nature affinity decks, focusing especially on any that used cards he remembered Redbeard employing during their last match. A couple of lists surfaced. Not many. But enough to sketch out what the pirate might be running.

  When he couldn’t find some of the more obscure cards he’d seen in their last match, he created clean, blank squares in his document and filled in the missing card details from memory. They weren’t perfect, but they’d do for theorycrafting.

  Then, he loaded up several high-tier competitive decks, pulling a mix of control, aggro, and tempo archetypes. It wasn’t enough to test his strategy against Redbeard’s nature deck. He needed to see how it held up against the meta.

  By the time he finished, his eyelids drooped, and the glow of the monitor had softened to a sleepy blur. He hit “Print” one last time.

  Deckard dragged himself to bed and collapsed onto the mattress. The sound of his printer humming and spitting out cards filled the room like a mechanical lullaby.

  He fell asleep to the rhythm of the printer.