Both Zel’s and Strol’s pocket watches rang mere minutes after they finished eating. They walked and walked through the forest until noon, with this part of the forest being a surprisingly mundane juxtaposition against the desolation of the battlefield or the density of the locust-infested areas.

As they made their way onto a relatively well-defined forest trail, Zelsys continued to fish out her memories of what she had done the night prior. She recalled most of the major details, but she couldn’t help poking at the blank spots in the same way one can’t help poking at the gap left by a missing tooth.

Complaints about her ongoing headache and fragmented short-term memory were met with laughs, Zefaris remarking, “You butchered a lightning bolt, I’d say this was the best possible outcome!”

“In retrospect, it’s not all that surprising it worked,” Strol added, and began counting out all the ways in which Zelsys had had an advantage over others who attempted the same feat. “For one, the dome kept a good portion of the lightning-bolt out. For two, the cleaver took most o’ the strain, what with it havin’ no previous essentia infusions n’ bein’ a hunk of solid cold-iron. Fuckin’ thing ate it up like a hungry dog.”

Zel hadn’t even thought about her cleaver since she had woken up, with her focus largely directed towards recovering and uncovering the changes to her own abilities that had arisen from her splitting the lightning. Curious, she gripped the hilt and pulled the blade free. There was only one visible change - the cleaver now had a strange, lightning-like pattern etched across its flat, the etching’s supernatural properties betrayed only by its constant subtle shifting.

A breath of Fog and a grain of focus roused the Lightning Butcher from its slumber, tongues of arcing lightning leaping across its surface as its cutting edge began to glow and its sawteeth vibrated to a growl-like ringing. Yet, the moment she stopped exhaling, so did her blade go silent, even if she willed it to wake - it shuddered and rang, but did nothing more.

“You need fuel to ignite, huh?” a stray thought crossed her mind as she observed the weapon. Strangely, the Lightning Butcher shuddered and groaned in what seemed to be affirmation. Zel paid it no mind and just put the blade back in its holster, not keen on lugging its prodigal mass in hand.

She had spent much of the trek to the third stopping-point trying to get a better feel for the strange process of “Starting the Breath Engine” and making repeated attempts at producing electric arcs between her fingers, and though they were small, it worked. With some focus and an exhalation, she could make arcs as thick as her fingers leap between her palms to the screeching of ionized air. The easiest and possibly crudest application of her new trait was forcing a muscle to contract at its absolute maximum power, which at least partially explained the reason behind the trait’s description.

Exploring only the surface of the elemental power she had usurped was enough to satisfy Zel’s curiosity for the time being, and she gladly allowed herself to mentally check out for the rest of the trek whilst she walked alongside Zefaris.

The next stopping point was similar to the first, save for the lack of locust-men. There was a fire pit and benches underneath a wooden roof, though to call it anything more than a roof would be exaggeration. Three supply bags occupied one of the benches and a healthy fire crackled in the pit, but that wasn’t what drew Zel’s attention.

It was who she presumed to be their fourth compatriot. They looked vaguely woman-shaped, though it was hard to tell. Their face was obscured by a bug-eyed gas mask with a filter canister screwed into one side, their short, rusty-brown hair covered by an officer’s cap. They wore a heavy black and gold coat, one identical in design to that worn by the Officer that Zel and the three had met at the border, from beneath which glimmered gold-inlaid full-plate and the handle of a sword in the same style, with a large wing-shaped crossguard. Zel tried to figure out if it was a Grekurian by the color of their skin, but what little skin could be seen had the palor of snow.

“Ho, Inquisitor!” Strol greeted stiffly.

The Inquisitor stood at attention accompanied by a subtle metallic clatter as they saluted. A pair of hazel eyes stared from behind the gas mask’s visor, curious and cold. Without so much as a word of conversation, they rested at the stopping-point and moved on after a few minutes. Zel felt the Inquisitor’s hateful gaze burning into her, but said nothing. When they finally departed, Strol asked a question.

“Say, y’dont mind me askin’ you for the code-phrase, yeah?” he queried.

A hateful stare. To Strolvath’s great amusement, the masked woman put her things down and quickly signed, “Unforeseen Consequences. Hang yourself already, asshole.”

Her eyes briefly shifted towards Zelsys while she signed the second part. Something felt off here. There was a disgusted, angry sort of recognition in those eyes, even though Zelsys had no clue who was behind that mask - she hadn’t met anyone in hazel eyes since she woke up in the bunker. Taking a look into the new supply bag revealed five things - the first was a seal-bottle of Vitamax, the second and third each a stick with a metal canister affixed to one side and a cover on the other - Ikesian hand-grenades, doubtlessly surplus from the war. Their paint was still in good-enough condition to make out the yellow-red explosives warning.

The fourth was a ration pack of bread, sausage, and cheese wrapped up in wax paper.

The fifth item was a worn leather belt with small loops that held a trio of seal-phials, within each a dense suspension of glimmering orange Ignis crystals suspended in translucent yellow gel. Each had a single seal that kept the cork in place.

A short length of twine held a piece of paper affixed to the belt, which held the handwritten instructions.

1. Remove seal

2. Apply contents to weak points in obstruction

3. Heat until ignition

WARNING: Once heated, Compound P-T becomes highly adhesive. Use of Compound P-T in explosives has been outlawed under the Kargareth Peace Accords.