Birds chirped. Leaves rustled. The sounds of the fauna intertwined with that of flora and created a choir of nature, disrupted only by the noise of Mio’s footfalls on loam. In silence, her eyes traced the forms of small avian creatures as they fluttered among the branches alongside dozens of various mammals.

Just through her aura senses, she could tell they weren’t monsters, but true animals. They were getting exceedingly rare these days.

It wasn’t really a surprise, however, as she was well aware the presence of the city dissuaded many monsters and gave the natives creatures a chance to thrive here once more. Regardless, she had always found the sense of calm they instilled pleasant, at least in contrast to the monsters that roamed the lands nowadays. She could see why her Patriarch favoured the area so much.

While her attention was distracted, the strong trunks became sparser, giving way to multicoloured bamboos, and ferns and other smaller flora. The scent of cherry blossoms filled the air among the usual smells of the forest, and although she couldn’t see any of the pink flower in question, she wondered if it was that time of year once more.

In the distance, between stalks of bamboo that peaked high above her head, she caught sight of an old wooden gate – a torii - with walls of the very same plant that obscured it reaching out to its left and right. The Patriarch’s Garden of Tranquillity, she knew. The place was one she was well familiar with.

A dozen auras blipped in her senses, and amidst that of her leader’s usual guard, she picked out his own, sturdy and divine in nature. It inspired awe and respect, even to the loosest of his followers. To her, who had never met her parents, it inspired a fatherly comfort.

She focused on the sound of her footsteps. She didn’t like to think about her parents. And for that very reason, she also didn’t like cars.

Eventually, with a sombreness settling over her, Mio passed under the gate and revealed her eyes to the sight of beautiful flora and divine architecture woven seamlessly into the garden itself. Even after seeing it for the fifth time, it still took her breath away, and she had never even been that partial to the beauty of plants and flowers.

“Roland.” She turned and nodded to one of the guards standing beside the entrance. He nodded back but said nothing. They weren’t friends, just two people who knew each other.

She felt the aura of her Patriarch reach out and touch her own. It was warm and invited her towards its source. She had no thought other than to comply. Typically, the Patriarch never called upon her for personal matters, at least never to his Garden for them, so she knew he wished to send on her on a mission. An important one.

Unlike Minerva, she was a trusted scout. And probably the most capable one in her place.

Mio had guessed his intentions when his aura reached out to her and beckoned only ten minutes prior. She did wonder, however, what he could ask of her. The Skinwalkers had been dealt with Brock Carter, while the Harakat were keeping to themselves and not openly aggravating anyone else. Though she expected that not to last forever.

She had had a run in with them once before, only with a few of their lesser members, and they didn’t seem particularly dangerous, just… radical. There were also other organisations and cities rising up in the ashes of civilisation, but none important enough for her to remember the names of.

Mio cracked her neck and nodded toward a pair of guards as she passed them and entered her leader’s private courtyard, where his home was held. She felt honoured.

This time, instead of passing by unhindered, the two guards standing outside the entryway to her Patriarch’s abode stepped in front of her as she approached and rested their hands upon their weapons; a katana and a naginata, or Japanese spear.

Unlike the other guards she’d met so far, these two, a man and a woman from what she could tell from under their helmets, wore the armour of samurai, coloured red and with gold trims. Just by looking, Mio could tell it was made of fine metals, probably one superior to that of her blades and own armour.

Nevertheless, she straightened her back against the High Guards and expressed her nonchalance, as it was very real. Most of these special guards were chosen simply because of their levels, usually above 70, and for that reason were rather cocky. Theses two – the man at 71 and the female at 74 - were no exception.

“Were you called upon?” The woman spoke out, taking another step forward in an attempt to intimidate Mio and make her step back. She remained unflinching. Her shadows twitched eagerly.

“I was. Move.”

The two guards looked at each other and broke into a hearty chuckle. There was no humour in the action, however, only mockery. The man’s hand gripped the shaft of his spear tighter, and he scoffed, “Really? What would the Patriarch want with a level 61 SS? Minerva would be better than you.”

Mio felt her teeth grind at the mention of Minerva, but she controlled herself. Raising a brow, her arms crossed, her armour plates scraping together. Although she already knew that the Patriarch knew she had arrived, she expanded her aura and touched upon his own. At the action, the two High Guards appeared ready to cut her where she stood, but the appearance of another aura stopped them dead.

The Patriarch had made his decree. She was to enter.

Mio took a page out of Brock’s book and raised her finger to them as she barged past, a small smirk playing on her lips. The guards offered no apology as she passed, and she felt their eyes boring into her back as she opened the door to her Patriarch’s house and slipped inside.

Idiots.

As soon as she entered, she was forced to restrain her facial expression from portraying immense confusion. Like she had expected, the Patriarch was already inside, sitting cross-legged and eying her arrival with the gaze of any kind old man. His infamous sword ‘Enma’ rested upon the table beside his bed in the corner, and his chest rose and fell to his slow breaths.

However, that was where the things that went according to her expectations stopped. To the Patriarch’s left, Harry Hoffman sat, his legs stretched out and his eyes darting to her as she appeared. Fon Tanya was seated to the older man’s right, following proper sitting etiquette, and her eyes seemed less intent on her, but the weapons strapped to her thigh.

We had fought the first time we met, I guess. Good to be cautious. Mio didn’t know what it was, but the woman looked… better. Her skin was radiant, and her features seemed a little sharper. Harry was no different in that regard. Those Treasures Brock gave them?

“Mio, please,” the Patriarch’s voice was warm and quiet, yet filled the room effortlessly, “sit.”

The woman in question nodded her head and seated herself directly in front of him, in between the two others, Brock’s friends. It made her intimately aware that she herself had none, “Yes, Patriarch.”

A silence fell over the room, before the older man finally coughed, retching what Mio assumed to be phlegm from his throat, “Are any of you aware of why I called you here?”

“No, Patriarch.” Mio responded without missing a beat.

Harry glanced at her, “Uh… nope.”

“No, sir.” Mio approved of Fon’s respect. She threw a sidelong glance at Harry.

Afterwards, the old man smiled, revealing a set of teeth white that were slightly discoloured by age. He was missing one of the teeth on the right. Mio thought that physical trait of his was quite endearing, like a set of freckles on one’s face. Warmly, he regarded each and every one of them with a gaze.

“Well then, it’s best I get to explaining myself.” The Patriarch cleared his throat once more, “I assume you all are somewhat aware of our budding relations with the leader of Adelaide overseas? In Australia?”

The group of three nodded in unison.

“Good,” the man continued, “three days ago, we lost contact with her – Ari Ahnjong – completely. Her radio system had been shown and said to have had problems in the past, but the signal simply vanished without a trace. Mid conversation, not to mention. There was no effort to re-establish comms on their part.”

Over to Mio’s left, Fon furrowed her brows, “If you don’t mind me asking, what can we do about it?”

His smiled returned.

“There is a man that I’m aware your group have encountered before; one capable of teleportation to and from Adelaide.” Mio noticed Fon’s eye twitched and her face paled somewhat, “While we had contact with her before, no matter how inconsistent, I never saw fit to send someone over and establish shadow jumping to Australia, but now…”

He trailed off, leaving the rest to quite obvious interpretation. He now wanted to establish proper contact, clearly wanting to confirm Ari’s reason for a sudden absence of contact. From what Mio knew, they had a sizeable trade deal ongoing.

“And you want us to go over?” Harry spoke out, breaking the silence that had begun to stretch.

The Patriarch nodded, “Yes. Each of you have at least met one of the people involved once before, meaning it should streamline the process of getting over there and doing what must be done.” He gestured at Mio, and two pairs of eyes fell on her, “Mio here shall oversee the mission, and establish a proper jump point to be used in future.”

Harry nodded to himself in understanding. Fon, while seeming a bit leery at the prospect of meeting her old acquaintance - Mio knew why perfectly, as she had watch them all for a time - appeared to resolve herself for the coming tribulation.

Surprisingly enough, both seemed rather willing to help, despite having no ties to this place. Maybe it was because without Brock’s penchant for chaos, they had nothing to do. Mio thought it was a rather funny predicament.

“So,” The Patriarch began, and broke Mio from her thoughts, “are you willing?”

**

Even now, Mio had no idea what the ruins of the town were called. Alongside Harry and Fon, she walked, eying the crumbled remains of buildings and the rotting skeletons left in the wake of the corpses that had never been removed. While none of the buildings had progressed any further into destruction, the town was clearly worse off than it had been when she’d left.

Among the entire area, she could detect only around twenty auras, and a third of them were feeble and that of people with only a few days left before they passed. Thankfully, the familiar aura of that spatial manipulator was still present, and rather strong, although none of his other acquaintances were present.

Mio glanced at Fon. If she had noticed his presence, the woman’s face didn’t change.

Subtly, Mio led the group toward the man’s location. None of them spoke, too sober from the death and aftermath of the Skinwalker’s terror, although she could tell Harry wished to say something. Surprisingly, he seemed to know now was not the time. Mio knew Brock would be proud.

Finally, they happened upon one of the better off structures in the place, although the roof had fallen in and one of the walls were slumping dangerously. Within, the aura of Jonathan, the teleporter, remained still. She wondered if the man was sleeping.

Silently, she approached the door, her hand reaching for the handle and preparing to delicately inch the rotted wood open. She didn’t wish to scare her target in case he just warped awa-

Harry’s foot blurred into the door beside her, and the object broke into splinters, the sound echoing within the remains of the building. Mio glared at him, resisting the urge to slap him in the face. A quick glance at Fon showed the woman was very much doing the same.

Thankfully, as they stepped in, a needle already in Mio’s hand in case she needed to stop the man and paralyse him, he was still there, and showed no sign of moving any time soon. Mio’s brows furrowed in confusion, and Fon stepped forward, as though she was going to help him, but stopped herself.

Huddled in the corner and hidden by shade, Jonathan was hunched over, sobbing into his knees and wetting his already stained pants. Blood clung to his hair and clothes, and while his body seemed fine nutritionally, as he looked up, his face looked scarily gaunt. His skin was several shades too pale, and deep bags hung under his eyes.

His pupils shook with fear.

“F… Fon?” his voice was raspy, and almost quiet enough to be a whisper. It sounded nothing like the man Mio had observed all those months ago, “is it… is it really you?”

She nodded subtly, saying nothing. Mio saw a spark of hope enter his eyes.

“I… I’m sorry! Sorry for everything!” tears fell from his eyes with renewed vigour, and his bottom lips quivered uncontrollably, “they all left. They… left me, and didn’t even tell… and- and… the demon… he…”

Just as Mio opened her mouth to cut the man off, another voice beat her to it. Her eyebrows rose in shock. Fon’s voice was cold and harsh, and brokered no empathy, “We need you to teleport us to Adelaide. Now. All three of us.”

The man’s eyes widened, and he stopped crying for a second, “I… I can do that”

Afterwards, it all passed without much fanfare. The three of them managed to coax the man back to some semblance of sanity, and he prepared to teleport them all, grasping onto them and creating a circle of people as they grasped onto each other in turn. Mio felt a bit strange using someone else to teleport when she could do so herself, but she knew it was the way things had to be right now.

She sensed the flow of aura as Jonathan activated his Technique, and space began to connect and warp. Then, just as their point in space connected with the point they were jumping to, Mio sensed it. A trace of aura in the sub-dimensional plane that Jonathan’s teleportation seemed to have connected to.

Although, the aura wasn’t that of a man. It was one of a monster, one so powerful she felt her entire body quake with fear unwillingly, and yet it was only a mere trace. Worst of all, it was a recent one too, having resulted from a teleportation only a few days prio-

Space sundered and abruptly it was gone. The sight of a ruined town was replaced by that of another. To her side, she heard Harry choke on his next breath. Fon gulped audibly. She herself felt her jaw clenching.

They were surrounded by death and destruction. Screams filled the air.