Chapter 50: Control
The fire spell lit up the surroundings of the cave for a second before sputtering out of existence, drawing a frustrated sigh from Zephyr.
Smiling Devil’s eyes glinted in the dark as the spell dispersed. "Just know my offer still stands... Whenever you’re ready."
Zephyr snorted at the remark before pulling off his gloves and wet clothes. His mind drifted back to how they’d gotten here. It had been three months since then, and the hope of ever returning to their world had already dwindled. Not that he actually wanted to go now that he knew the severity of their situation, but some part of him yearned for more options.
Zephyr had woken up to find himself stark naked and dazed in a forest that looked normal but was still weird enough to tug on the back of his foggy mind.
He jumped to a start when the memories came flooding back in, blood pumping with adrenaline in a fight or flight reaction. Where was he? He had actually somehow survived? Where were the others?
He carefully looked around as he came to, noticing the state of his body and taking in his surroundings fully. His stomach pang in extreme hunger. His body had worked overdrive to heal him of what seemed like grave injuries he had sustained yet again. He wondered whether it was the gateway link or their arrival here that caused his injuries but he got his answer relatively quickly when he noticed a few broken tree branches and a trail leading to where he was, like a small meteor had landed there.
His observation led his eyes toward another trail— less prominent but still there, some ways away from him. He tried standing up to examine the small crater but his body protested, reminding him he was not in the shape to stand. He gritted his teeth, pushing forward in a slow crawl instead. He had felt something slam into him just before he was sucked out of the hole they tore open in the construct. Was it that criminal? Or maybe Zeke? Jet? Any of his acquaintances?
His curiosity pushed him forward, though at a slow pace. Eventually he was able to reach the crater, if it could even be called a crater. It seemed Zephyr’s body had taken most of the damage as they fell, paving the path for this other person.
It was the criminal, just as Zephyr thought. The man was somehow alive. Naked and free of his restraints, staring at Zephyr through his barely open single eye. The man looked grotesque.
Dried, caked blood painted his already half-burnt face as he wheezed for each breath he took through his mouth. One could see parts of his charred gums on one side of his face, and if observant, even the bones that made up his lower jaw.
His single eye flashed with vigor as he saw Zephyr before reverting back to its normal dimness. He tried talking but it came out as a slur of gibberish nonsense.