The ball of golden green and silver had grown brighter. It wasn’t shining—still dimmed from what he felt like its normal baseline would be, but it was definitely brighter. As it grew, he was starting to feel stronger, his perceptions more solidified, but he also felt more unstable.

  A rhythmic creak-and-thump echoed at the edge of his hearing. Wooden wheels turning over hardened clay, harnesses jingling, hoofbeats and footsteps. Somewhere off in the distance, a voice called out in a deep, melodic tone, followed by the dull reply of another. A new day had begun and he could sense the fresh morning sunlight, even if he couldn't see or feel it.

  Soren stirred beneath the heavy… blanket?

  He wasn't sure what was draped over him. As he struggled to open his eyes, he could hear machinery nearby. Delicate instruments, like something scientific or medical. He could… smell..? Maybe..?

  He could sense something nearby that felt like light, energy—vibrations. Similar to the ball he felt inside, but all around him, ambient, thin, and hazy.

  Voices spoke in the same room as him. One sounded male, muttering almost like he was making a report, and a female voice responded in a cheerful tone. He could almost make out what they were saying. The words were strange, like before, but less strange this time. If their language was green, he felt like he could see a bit of the blue and yellow. There was something else too, deeper—down below the ground.

  Soren’s eyes opened and he saw concrete—a ceiling and walls all around.

  The female voice spoke off to his right, urgently trying to get someone’s attention. Soren turned his head—she was across the room, she looked similar to the other tall woman he had encountered. The one with the axe. But this one had shoulder-length brown hair and wasn’t quite as tan.

  And there was a man by her too! Not some four-armed lizard-man, but a normal looking human man! The familiarity washed over Soren like a warm embrace, he didn’t feel quite so much like he was going crazy. The man was looking towards Soren, he was holding a tablet and wore some sort of medical attire.

  Soren tried to sit up but couldn’t. Whatever bed they had him on wasn’t very comfortable, it was hard as stone, and the blanket was extremely weighted—

  He looked down and saw not a blanket, but some of the largest chains he’d ever seen in his life wrapped around him. What the hell was going on? Was he still trapped in some weird dream? He was starting to think this all may be real.

  Something beneath the ground again. Deep, but closer now. He had to get up, whatever was coming was not good.

  He tried pulling his arms up, but the chains shifted with a clank and held tight. He pulled harder and heard the metal in the chains begin to strain. He kept pulling and the strange light inside him bucked, turning red and beginning to vibrate.

  The man and woman said something in urgent tones.

  Soren let out a strained cry and yanked with everything he had. A harsh, metallic crack rang through the air as the chains snapped. One shot down, the built up tension whipping it into the concrete. It bounced off the floor, the impact causing several chips of cement to ricochet out wildly. He swung his legs down and stood. The coat he had borrowed was missing but he still had on the tight fitting trousers. That was it.

  The woman was yelling and pointing a rifle at him, it looked military in design, similar to the one he had scavenged from the jungle camp. His adrenaline was pumping, but he wasn’t trying to get into another fight. Last time he had hurt people—killed them. He didn’t want to repeat that mistake.

  Slowly—very slowly—Soren raised his hands up, palms facing her. “Woah, I don’t want to fight.” There it was again. His voice was low, deep—with this strange bass and reverberation that felt so foreign.

  The woman paused, like she had understood him but was still cautious. She kept her eyes trained on him down the sights of the rifle, but said something to the man. He responded, then grabbed a tablet and brought it over.

  Soren was almost two feet taller than him, but other than that, he looked just like any other human. Fair skin with a tan that looked like it was from time spent in the sun, medium build, and short brown hair. He had a black headband wrapped around his forehead and a white coat—the entire getup screamed doctor.

  Soren took the tablet from the man and recognized it as a translator like the lizard-man had given him before.

  The man spoke to him and words translated onto the screen. “Easy big guy. Let’s just take this slow, don’t make any sudden movements. Let’s talk this out.”

  Soren looked from the words on the screen to the man. Then to the woman with the rifle, and back to the screen. “There’s something coming. Like from deep beneath the ground.”

  The man studied him, not in a judging way, but like he was simply trying to diagnose the situation. He glanced back at the woman for a second and then said, “Something coming. What do you mean? How do you know?”

  Soren finished reading the words and said, “I’m not sure how I know, I can just tell.”

  The man didn’t look convinced. “Alright, well let’s just take it slow, like I said. Let’s start with your name, can you tell me your name? My name is Elias.”

  This man Elias didn’t believe him, but Soren could feel it in his bones. Whatever was coming was almost on them. He needed to convince them however he could. “Uh, Soren. My name is Soren.”

  “Nice to meet you, Soren,” Elias said. “You’ve been unconscious for several days now.” He gestured back at the woman. “This is my friend, Amalia. As long as we keep everything civil, you don’t need to worry about her. Deal?”

  “Uh, yeah, sure,” Soren said. This was taking too long. “Listen, whatever is coming, it’s almost here. We need to warn people, before—”

  The ground under their feet began to faintly rumble.

  It was too late.

  Amalia and Elias both took their eyes off him, looking around the room.

  “Does this place normally get earthquakes?” Soren asked.

  Elias looked at him, confused, then looked at Amalia.

  “A what?” She asked.

  “A groundshift,” Soren said. “Tremor.”

  She shook her head “No” as the rumbling grew stronger.

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  Soren could tell this was going to be a big one. “If the buildings around here are not built to withstand earthquakes, then they are going to collapse! Get people outside, get them away from the walls!”

  He let the translator drop from his hand and moved for the door behind Amalia.

  The barrel of her rifle whipped back up to point at him. She yelled something that was probably an order to stop but there was no time. He had to pass by her to get to the door, and she shot once, hitting his left shoulder.

  Pain flared, but just like in the jungle, it barely slowed him. He swatted at the end of the rifle, taking care to only hit the barrel, not her. The smack ripped the gun out of her grip, causing it to fly across the room and smash against the wall.

  He didn’t wait to see her reaction.

  He charged at the large, metal door, bracing his body and angling in. His shoulder slammed into it, the metal caved outward, and it ripped free from the hinges.

  It flew away into the packed dirt and Soren staggered up the short incline.

  He was momentarily blinded by the morning sunlight, raising one hand to shield his eyes. To his right, the land opened up into a vast stretch of cultivated fields, each row lined with broad, waxy plants that swayed gently in the breeze. Their leaves shimmered with dew catching sunlight, throwing scattered pinpoints of light like glinting metal. Beyond them, the village was already going about their daily lives. From the distance it looked like an unremarkable farming village.

  But as he looked closer, he saw that most of them had those strange features like the others. Some were short with thick beards, there were some more of those lizard-folk around, but most were those tall women with hooves and long ears. And they had yet to realize the tremor beneath their feet.

  He bolted across the field. He had to warn people about what was happening, even if they couldn’t understand him. People would die if he didn’t. Even if they didn’t look completely human, they were still people. His legs carried him across the field incredibly fast, the athletic movements feeling effortless—exhilarating even.

  When he was halfway across the field, he saw a woman with twin brown ponytails beyond the far-right edge of the field. She leapt over a stone half-wall, ran a couple steps toward him, and dropped to one knee, aiming a rifle.

  “EARTHQUAKE!” Soren shouted at her.

  Then he veered left without slowing, widening the gap between them as he rushed into the village. He didn’t know if she understood him or not, but she didn’t open fire. Maybe she was just being cautious with gunfire inside the village.

  A low, thundering sound rose up from the ground itself deep enough to rattle Soren’s teeth. The ground lurched sideways and continued to rumble. The villagers didn’t scream right away, they just froze.

  A second later, the shouting began. A cart overturned in the road. Someone dropped a crate of tools. A short broad-shouldered woman fell hard, arms bracing her head as others stumbled in every direction.

  “Move! Get away from the walls!” he yelled, waving people toward the open field. A small group looked at each other then back to him, like they were trying to figure out what he said. Finally, they broke from cover and sprinted across the dirt road. A second later, the roof behind them came crashing down.

  He ran further into the village, shouting at anyone he could and motioning them toward the field. There were people running and screaming everywhere, and the tremors just kept getting stronger.

  The ground bucked again, harder this time. Windows rattled in their frames, one shattered somewhere nearby, and clay bricks cracked along their seams. Soren ducked beneath a sagging awning as he ran and a row of hanging tools fell from the wall behind him, clanging like windchimes made of iron and panic.

  A young girl stumbled out of a doorway in front of him clutching a bowl of water that sloshed over her hands. She had those strange hooves and ears, but she looked like she was no more than a teenager—all thin limbs and wide eyes. A wooden beam above her door groaned as the structure shifted.

  “MOVE!” Soren sprinted forward.

  The girl froze, staring at him like a frightened deer.

  He scooped her up mid-stride, spinning his body just in time to shield her from the collapsing beam. It cracked loose and slammed into the ground behind them, sending up a burst of dust and splinters. She clung to him without a word, fingers clawing tight into his skin.

  He carried her into the open field and gently set her down.

  “Stay here,” he motioned downward with both hands. “Away from the buildings.”

  She didn’t respond, but she didn’t run, either.

  Soren sprinted back into the crumbling town and saw word was spreading as people fled toward the fields. He noticed some of them shooting him dirty looks and guessed they knew he had something to do with the deaths in the jungle. He didn’t have time to pay them any mind.

  Running further in, he came to a wide courtyard that looked like a communal town square. A small group of people had gathered in the middle, a few noticing him and pointing. A figure was just setting down a rescued villager—she stood up, locking eyes on him.

  She was taller than the rest by at least a foot. Sheer viridian robes and a golden chain belt barely covered her curves, though she lacked the armor plating from before. The greataxe was on the ground next to her, and she picked it up, planting her hooves firmly against the shaking ground as she stared daggers into him.

  Soren’s shoulders sank a little and he muttered, “Oh shit…”

  He almost turned and ran.

  Another shock rang out and the wall to his right crumbled at the foundation. The slab shifted down, falling toward him, and he turned away just as the top crashed into his head. He managed to shrug off most of the impact.

  The front porch of the next building over collapsed down on top of the door, and someone inside screamed.

  Soren locked eyes with the tall woman for a split-second, then charged the building’s sidewall. Shouldering into the brickwork, he exploded in like a wrecking ball, coming to a stop just inside. He spotted a human woman pinned beneath a small pile of rubble and quickly cleared it off her, but she shouted something and pointed. In an adjacent room, another small girl with hooves was crouched down crying and holding her head. She was even younger than the previous girl.

  Soren ran to her, crouching over her in case the ceiling came down. “It’ll be ok,” he said in a tone as gentle as he could manage, then scooped her up from the floor.

  As he ran back to the main room, he saw the tall woman bracing the destroyed wall with her axe. She still looked pissed, but she motioned for him to come out. He ran under her axe and out into the town square where he set the little girl down amongst the group. The human woman ran up a moment later and hugged the little girl.

  Soren stood and took a few steps away, looking around for the next shriek, the next cry for help, or the next hammering crash from beneath the ground. But the tremors began to fade, and as he reached out with his perceptions, trying to feel the same way he had felt the earthquakes coming, he sensed that the worst had passed.

  He let out a sigh of relief—

  A hand wrapped around his throat.

  The tall woman grunted with effort as she hurled him away from the gathered villagers. He hit the ground hard, rolled with the momentum, and rose back to one knee. He looked back to her but made no move to retaliate.

  She stalked toward him, fingers tight around the haft of her axe. She was seething, but looked like she was still figuring out what she wanted to do next.

  Another hooved woman jogged into the square, twin ponytails bouncing and rifle raised—the same one from the field. She joined the tall woman without a word, keeping her weapon trained on him. A third followed close behind and did the same. This one looked roughly the same age as ponytails—maybe a bit younger—but had silver hair cut short.

  Speaking slowly in words he could understand, the tall woman seethed, “Do. Not. Move.” Her voice dripped with venom.

  The square hung in thick silence. Soren on one knee with two rifles pointed at him. The woman with the axe looming. Dust still hung in the air as villagers murmured behind the front line.

  “Stop,” cried out a young woman’s voice from across the square. It was soft, but held an undeniable edge of conviction. The single word cut through the tension like a blade. Soren couldn’t remember ever hearing her voice before, but it landed in his mind with the strangest sense of déjà vu.

  All eyes turned toward it.

  The morning sun caught a cloud of pale dust, making it glow white, and out of the haze stepped a girl just over five feet tall. She wore a cream colored outfit with a skirt cut high to show movement and a fitted corset-style top that looked somewhere between a nurse or maid uniform. Her blonde hair was streaked with soft pink and tied elegantly out of her face.

  Soren thought she was human for a second, but realized her ears were actually long white antennae. Her electric blue eyes cut through the fog.

  She walked toward them slowly, the look in her eyes fierce as she stepped in between him and the towering women. The two warriors lowered their rifles just barely.

  The girl glared at each woman standing over him for a long moment, then finally shifted down to him. In one of the kindest tones he had ever heard, she said, “It’s nice to finally meet you. My name is Tamiyo.”

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