Rangers Endgame

The four-armed creature unleashed a screech that clawed at the humid air. Kenzo stepped forward, shield ready. The Sentinel pulled him back by the collar and drew his hammer, already humming with unbridled energy.

“The others,” Dai commanded, approaching the beast.

Kenzo stood there reluctantly, but obeyed, conjuring panels across his team.

Perhaps the tank’s presence was overkill because the skirmish—if you could call it that—was over in a blink.

The monster charged on four limbs, its two front arms shaving down into serrated lances. With a well-timed sidestep, Dai’s hammer came down on the back of its head, uniting the beast with the earth. It twitched, then went limp.

Kenzo dismissed his spell, and their group continued forward.

An hour passed before Kouami shouted a warning. “Something’s coming! On our—”

Before he could call out a direction, Dai had already launched a wave through the trees. Bark splintered and rock shattered as the landscape unraveled until the attack struck something living. The creature disguising itself as vegetation tore apart with a pained shriek before it could pounce.

Kouami stood there, still. Not surprised, just watching. Because that was all anyone could do. Allowed to do.

More time had passed as their trek moved them through charred terrain. Stone had gradually turned to glass, as if it was tired of being rock. Kouami didn’t say a word this time. He didn’t need to because the ground quivered, and they saw it.

Trudging towards them was a towering giant of organic stone and metal that carelessly toppled trees with each step. Kenzo sighed and ignited his shield to protect his team, just in case, who were now lounging, waiting.

He knew the drill. They all did.

Dai concentrated radiance into the hammer’s head. Observing.

The creature didn’t wait, didn’t care for some grand battle cry. It anchored itself to the earth as its faceless head ground open, molten heat pouring out. The glow intensified as it began to fire, but Dai was faster.

With a casual swing, he shot a beam into the creature’s exposed head, obliterating stone with a shower of rock and magma as the beam vanished into the clouds somewhere.

The monster tumbled forward with a deafening crash, smoke spewing, glass crumbling.

“Let’s go,” he ordered, already moving.

The rangers moved at a leisurely pace, cheeks on their fists as the Sentinel strolled through adversaries.

The sun eventually touched the horizon, smearing crimson across the sky. Dai allowed them to gather wood and set up camp.

Before long, night fell over the world like an abyssal blanket, only broken by its twinkling specks—a backdrop of bestial calls contrasted against the river’s meandering composure. Cool air wavered against the crackling campfire, warmth rolling across Dai’s skin as he scrolled through the holographic map.

Kouami's conversation with Asuka had long since been tuned out. The metallic whimper of wet cloth on metal told Dai that Kenzo was maintaining his shield somewhere off to the side. Shin roasted the skewered rabids he’d saved when they’d passed through the Inner Rim.

Movement drew Dai’s attention to his flank, though his eyes stayed on the map. Those clumsy footfalls were too familiar at this point.

Hideki cut into their broken circle while balancing cups of river water atop a shimmering tray of radiance.

“Dinner is served,” he announced as he began handing them out.

“These are beverages,” Kenzo corrected with a resigned sigh, accepting his cup anyway.

Hideki dipped down in an overly grand gesture when he got to Dai and offered one. Dai rolled his eyes but accepted with an appreciative nod. Brisk water soothed his parched throat as he went back to charting an optimal path.

According to the holographic display, they'd need to trudge through increasingly hostile terrain—jagged spires, crumbling earth, rotting vegetation. He'll worry about it when they get there. For now, the hand-drawn line was the most optimal path whether monsters stood in their way or not.

He checked his rejuvenator. Full. Likely unnecessary, but a safety net never hurt anyone.

He put it back and scrolled through the hologram again, the artificial land dragging as he continued drawing a line through a dense forest of rocky javelins.

Then stopped.

The hologram cut off like he'd reached the edge of the world.

No vegetation, no soil, no stone. Just blank, empty space.

A void where land should've been.

He knew what that meant. Selecting the ink tool, his finger glided across the blackness in red writing.

Rangers' Graveyard.

“You should relax while you have the chance,” Shin spoke up. Though his gaze stayed on the crackling fire, it was obvious who the words were meant for.

“Rest comes later. You all can take a breather if you must,” Dai replied, still making corrections to the pathing.

A patch of grass clenched inside Kouami's fist. “A ‘breather’ implies that we've done something. Instead, we've been pushed aside,” he voiced, careful not to let mild frustration tip into disrespect. “We're not baggage. We're capable of doing more.”

“There’s no need,” he replied curtly.

Kenzo's wiping faltered, something flickering across his face, but he held his tongue. Hideki's mouth tilted, suppressing something bubbling up as he finished serving drinks.

“No need,” Kouami repeated as he looked at Asuka, waiting for the timid conjurer to agree.

Asuka rubbed his neck. “It's not all that bad.” When Kouami's face twisted into disbelief, he explained. “I mean, we get to see a Sentinel—a real Sentinel—work. It's a privilege, really.”

“You shouldn't encourage him,” Kenzo said without looking.

“No, no! I'm not. I just…” Asuka trailed off, gaze falling to his shuffling feet. “I—we—could learn a few things. Personally, I've had my eye on the position ever since Sentinels were announced to the world.” He met Dai's eye, then flicked away, thumbs twiddling. “It’s the closest thing to mentorship. I guess… I don't know.”

When Dai responded with his signature heavy silence, Asuka broke it first with a flurry of apologies. “I didn't mean to upset you—I just thought—sorry, please forget I said anything.”

The conjurer hid behind his cup.

Dai, however, didn't sigh or roll his eyes at his boldness. The Sentinel simply went back to the map.

“You have promise,” he said, more like he was reading off a fact.

Asuka peered out from his ridiculous cover, shoulders softening.

“But promise means nothing without the backing of dedication,” Dai continued sternly. “No one holds our title without a foundation of blood and sweat.”

Asuka nodded fiercely. “I understand.”

“Then prove that your promise doesn't stem from my imagination by getting through this expedition. I'll decide then.”

Asuka beamed like a child and gave a firm, vowing nod. He gushed to Kouami like he wasn’t already listening the whole time. Dai tuned it out.

Shin gave Dai a knowing look, the same look he gave when the self-isolating Sentinel acknowledged something softer than the mission. Dai ignored him.

Shin twisted the skewer some more, the alluring scent of sizzling meat teasing the air. Another five minutes, and he gave a satisfied nod.

“Everyone, come get your share,” Shin announced.

While the rangers gathered, Dai stayed put.

“Put that down for two seconds and eat.” Shin scolded.

Dai sighed, but turned off the hologram anyway. Everyone got their portion. Kouami tried sneaking away with an extra piece of meat, but it only took one stern look from Shin for him to put it back.

Everyone dug in, their faces melting in delight. Shin huffed in amusement at their reaction.

Dai bit into his, the spices he didn't know had been added dancing on his tongue. He caught his glee before it could reach his features. That old man always knew how to make a… decent meal on the go.

Perhaps a relaxing night wasn’t a bad proposal.

Just this once.