From right above all the way down the omnidirectional umbrella horizon of the cavern jut stalactites of varying sizes from pins the size of hands to blades the size of bodies. Dried in darkness, only the shine of the faint fluorescent light from deep deep below brings it any presence, just a minute hue when otherwise it’d be submerged in the stone sky.

A sky not painted with strokes of purple nebulas nor grazed with sprinkles of white stars, but a sky of colorless rock and dirt, a solid ceiling whose scattered holes lead to no visible light beyond any surface, a claustrophobic infinity of far yet finite possibility.

Well below that solid sky, deep deep down to the source of the fluorescent white light all the way on the surface of the cavern stands the expansive dirt city, rectangular buildings stacked disorderly and arrayed down streets of stone. Where many cities would have clean skyscrapers with straight edges that climb to the clouds, instead there were distinct blocks misaligned to a few stories but nothing too grandiose, almost leading to an architectural design with a glitched nature. There was a lack of refinement and vision, rather such an unkempt appearance felt rushed and desperate, but it wasn’t as though it’d be judged by any tourists.

For nearly the whole of life under the cavernous ceiling is the native population, a great sample of which roams up and down the rocky road in their similar grayed rags over gray skin; some in clusters of families but many disjoint and isolated. They had their heads hung low, many of them highly concealed under their hoods with the few exceptions exposing little more than their bald parched heads. A few of them do walk through the opened doorways along many of the dirt buildings which appear to be shops of some nature, although they enter with little enthusiasm. Others come out just the same, one of whom coughs a hacking dry cough before diverging along the street.

On one side of the road walking down was a lone mother walking two daughters about half her height, dressed in similar attire, their heads down in silent fatigue making their way through the city’s more bustling parts. One of the daughters raises her head in random curiosity, curiosity which is then grabbed from ahead of her as her eyes widen and awe strikes her face. A flash of excitement and wonder awakens her which she carries to grab her mother’s rags and begin shaking them back and forth fervently whilst exclaiming unintelligibly, which the mother initially ignores in a haze before the consistent calls snaps her attention forward. Nearly immediately the mother is too locked on the sight as is her second daughter whom is just slightly taller than the former and wears a more apprehensive reaction, although that is highly tame compared to the drastically anxious face worn by their parent; that parent immediately grasps both of her daughters with a sharp pull to her side and casts a scornful glare similar to a defensive tiger protecting her cubs, snarling specifically at the three roamers who walk up the street in approach.

Those three walk side by side, the one in the center stepping with black dress shoes paired with a professional black attire of leggings and a blazer, accompanied to the left with one ambling in brown flatfooted shoes which complements their long brown overcoat, and to the right prowls one with casual white shoes bipartite to an oversized white hoodie. They walk by the center of the street although leaning right, the opposite side from the small family and yet still the mother reacts so harshly, veering her children towards the very edge of the street to maximize distance from them. Other strollers take notice of the trio and steer clear from them in a clear repulsion, leaving an open path for them although not in hospitality.

Whereas two of the walkers are not as concerned by the hesitant shots and glances, specifically the one in the white is, who glimpses around from side to side swaying her long thick pink hair pink like the wrapping around half of her hoodie. In front of her she plays with her fingers nervously, breathing remarkably heavy compared to her companions at the very least. Despite the colorful dress worn with sprinkle decals of blue, pink, purple and green amongst the embellishing cartoony frosting details, the young woman shows all but innocence, her body trembling with fearful pink eyes, her lips parted open to make a ‘huh’ every few seconds in reaction to the hostile reactions to simply the presence of her own being.

Lost and angsty, the woman then desperately looks to her allies beside her, first the woman in the center who’s visibly more mature as whereas the young woman appeared in her twenties, her companion was well into her forties and beyond, with short amber bangs and concerned green irises. Her head remains straight forward restlessly, not partaking in attention to the glances being received for there was a far greater weight that held down her chest that leaves her silently panting through a slightly parted mouth.

Beside her also exhaustedly was the man who, if the woman could be in years of parenthood, looked to have several generations below him, with a deformed sunken face of tight cheeks between a closed mouth of badly chapped lips and wrinkling around his stultified yellow eyes of as much elation as hair on his bald head. He then raises a transparent flask to his chapped lips which is filled halfway with a vibrant purple liquid which he takes a sip from, gulping visibly from the action in his bony skin, the action rather disturbing visually as his Adam's Apple pulsates from the thin throat, pushing against and stretching the fleshy walls from inside before recoiling back and repeating.

Further past the side of the tree are the buildings bordering the streets, and in between them are the narrow alleys cluttered with dumpsters but people to, herds of people standing over litters of clear sticks whilst grabbing ones atop the dumpster filled with radiating teal liquids before then injecting it into their shoulders and wrists to which the liquids deplete into their bodies leading to irritated twitches. Yet even with the visible discomfort of the painful injection, they still grab for more off the dumpsters, hungry, adding to the litter that plagues the streets, the litter apparent yet ignored.

Just ahead in the very next alley on the other side of the building echo shouts and ruffles, all sourced from a wrestle between two small gangs who grab and tussle, throwing each other into the dumpsters along the walls with loud bangs and proceeding groans. There are about six people total, three on three, two of them on the ground ripping each other’s rags while another two move towards a wall, one thrusting the other against it. As the man pins their opponent against the wall ferociously, the seemingly victim groans before then jabbing the man in the stomach timed with the sudden emergence of a blade that rips straight out of his wrist blood gushing out and into the assailant, who upon impact abruptly freezes and slouches over. Getting up from the ground after being thrusted into the dumpster, one of the gangsters take notice of the collapsing ally, to which in a fit of rage he lunges at the bladed gangster with a hand that flashes bright green wrapped with acid which strikes his opponent, leading to the bladed gangster’s cheek to instantly melt with the skull visible through the tear to which the struck gangster covers the wound with a immeasurable agony.

All of this terrible violence takes place not many steps away from the end of the alley where the bustling street is, and yet not one of the locals bats an eye to such cruelty, rather their heads remain low. Despite the cries and all, there is none to bring apparent attention to them other than the young woman whose horrified pink eyes stare over to the alley. Terrorized by such an abhorrent display, her sight lingers on the scene to which the bald man on the other side can only release a soft sigh after pulling his flask off his lips to bring it by his side, keeping his gaze ahead.

Nothing has changed, not the world, not the people, not them. Nothing has changed, except for the absence of one member. And without that member, suddenly a world already bleak has become somehow more gritty. For now they were truly lost in this hell, and would be until they could find that missing member.

Focused on nothing but that, only slight pivots of the head cast just above a narrow margin of sight for Dana, moderated between Kokei’s frantic glimpses that restrict the time for any real analysis and Ekitai’s fixated tunneling which deprives even the chance.

Yet that is not to claim that Dana’s observations are of a solid standard either, but they are the most refined of the three to watch the locals repulsed by the aliens, clustered to the edges of the roads until they can slip into the open doorways of the various buildings that lack any advertisement of what the establishment’s purpose was given it was definitely not a home, or at the very least not exclusively so.

Tugged by the disarrayed street walls near the alleys where rampant injections and tussles occur, gray men and women in rags cast cold glares at the three aliens before then stepping in through the doorway of one of the buildings particularly surveilled.

Concurrently with the entrance are the exits of other locals who immediately take notice of the anomalous presence with glares of their own before keeping to the walls as they orbit around the intruders before resuming their own activities.

Through irises that were momentarily analytical golden before flickering back to their native greens, Dana shows interest in what she espied with the crumpling of her eyebrows and a gulp that shuts her mouth. Her stare sharpens with a glint of the light that flickers on in her head, and she nudges her right shoulder to hone the focus of her frenzied ally before then her left to ascertain that her other ally is even paying attention to where he’s walking.

Both of their attentions paired, she then diverges their track from the center to the right.

Instantly the whole street reacts to the change in direction, locals raising their heads to watch the three aliens approach the building’s entrance from afar while those who were already positioned near the doorway whether it be departing or meaning to enter flee like a flock of birds far from the danger. Neither Ekitai nor Dana show reaction to the agitated behaviors of the community while Kokei nearly jumps to such a sudden shift of conduct.

In seconds the entrance is cleared up from those intending to leave along with those who hoped to enter alike, making way for the three who slowly enter the establishment thus liberate the streets of their presence, a liberation shown to be taken with relief from the adults some of whom even sigh with the burden lifted. They’re able to allow their children greater space to roam, no longer needing to shield them, able to loosen their aggressive stares.

Through the doorway that the trio walk through is a petite square lobby entrance accompanied with a counter that borders the adjacent rectangular gloomy dining space fitted with two rows of dirt benches and extended tables packed together tightly with only a narrow aisle in between for movement. Among the gray man behind the counter who seems to be an employee wearing a peculiar dark silver bracelet around his left wrist, there are multitudes of customers scattered amongst the many tables, some grouped around shared tables and others inhabiting their own alone.

There is little light in the room, beyond the light pushing through the doorway against the rough surfaces of the dirt walls the room is majorly dim with the far corner being exceptionally unlit enough that it shrouds those further back even more, although all of the customers are behind a cloak of ominosity. The establishment is not the largest either, which causes the clamping of all the tables, but even more it crowds the people into a less coherent muddle.

Clearly the establishment is designed to be a restaurant or of similar functionality given the structuring of the tables and benches just like most traditional diners, and as such the tables harbor platter in the form of square metal plates bent inwards to function as a bowl to some capacity. Strangely however, whereas such type of business would offer a diverse catalog of meals from soups, noodles, and meats to name a few, all that can be discerned on any of the plates are just piles of small capsule pills all the same white color, for there is no variation beyond a rather unaesthetic dish.

Despite the lackluster visuals of the meal however, many of the customers grab handfuls of it at once and toss it into their mouths, swallowing the pills whole before going for following rounds. There is no meat, no vegetation, just the pure pill swallowed without a sound. The customers show little enthusiasm towards the meal accordingly, with minimum conversation between families, for the meal is no more than a task, a chore.

That is all until the entrance of the three aliens who immediately garner the attention of not only the employee behind the counter but every single customer in the room, all of them raising their heads up and staring straight at the three with still bodies, straight into their soul.

All of the locals’ stares trail the three precisely who come to a stop in front of the counter, their stares met by only a passing glance from Ekitai but maintained more consistently yet shakily by Kokei who observes the quaked environment with hasty head turns.

At the center of the aliens stands Dana who analyzes the room with a sweep, raising her chin up in an attempt to catch sight of her friend behind the employee at the counter who just glares straight at her. Ekitai just casually glances around the interior with little interest, swaying his flask from side to side and his body leaning back, whereas Kokei without pause frantically leaps between hostile glares. Dana’s gaze entirely misses that of the employee right in front of her, for her focus was entirely offset from her own position, a focus that saw straight through the environment.

After a few silent moments of detached stares, the employee finally begrudgingly asks in a raspy voice, “What you want?”

Caught in her meticulous analysis with stern eyes that tried to peer through every crevice of the building yet unable to complete its search, Dana brings her attention down to the employee in front of her with a gentle sigh to the confrontation while Kokei nearly jumps to the callout.

Dana wears a soothing smile of calm passivity before nodding her head and gently requesting, “I would like a seat for me and my two friends, do you take credits?”

From what was a well intended, soft-spoken and overall harmless question, the employee’s face scrunches with disgust before he then berates, “Hell you think I gon let pirates in my blizz? Not take no devil coins not gon let you step another foot here.”

His left hand tightens into a fist of greater animosity, despite the fist being bony with little genuinely threatening presentation.

Taken aback by the abrupt hostility of the employee, Dana’s eyes widen and blink twice in recovery from the sudden strike. Her expression begins to falter into shock, but she swiftly recovers herself back into her tranquil state, able to reestablish her smile and calm in an attempt to try another angle.

In a voice almost motherly in its warm tones, Dana assures gracefully, “I promise you, we are no pirates, and we have no harmful intentions with you or anyone here. We will not be here very long, and I am willing to pay a heightened fee if that is your wish.”

“Pirates like you all the same. All about credits. All about weapons. All about power. Only think about themselves. Only think about their power. Especially ones who call themselves heroes. Even the Alliance that act they here for people. Nah gon step foot in the rim. Nah have for centuries. Just left us here to rot. Want a heightened fee? Get out my place. That all I want,” harshly responds the employee with a blazing glare, such animosity with seemingly little fuel, at least to the local scale of the three. Yet there was no wavering in his intent, for it can be seen in his burning gray eyes.

Terrified by such raw anger from the man, Kokei turns to Dana and tugs at her blazer sleeve gently, delicately whispering: “Dana…maybe we should go somewhere else-....”

On the other side, Ekitai takes one step back with a sharpening yellow glare, his hand slowly sliding up between the ravine in his overcoat in apprehension, the flask in hand in preparation to first stash the beverage..

In the center, Dana softly sighs to the concrete resistance pushing against her, seeing that the employee was, to her, surprisingly bellicose towards her and her friends despite their peaceful actions. She shakes her head gently as a breeze from behind thrusts her bangs forth momentarily.

Persistent to pursue her search, Dana then begins to stroll forward, clenched tightly on the sleeve by Kokei at first before her grip is effortlessly shaken off, her green eyes focused and intentful as she in a soft yet slightly more assertive voice simply decides, “I didn’t really need to stick around here anyways, I just hope to look around for just a minute. I’ll be in and out before you know it, don’t worry-.”

All in one instant hordes of customers stand from their seats as the employee raises and points to his left hand, his middle and pointer fingers aimed forth but his ring and pinky curled in a similar gesture to Meditat’s projectile stance. The bracelet then immediately begins expanding small plates outwards, plates that encases the man’s whole hand into a solid metal mesh that contorts its shape to be thicker by the palm like the closed handle of a compact pistol and slimmer at the head of the two aimed fingers like a barrel, for even at the front is a black vent where the barrel would be. At the very same time Ekitai relinquishes his drink to reveal his handgun and immediately takes aim at the employee whose weapon is aimed straight at Dana, Ekitai’s handgun interface lit.

Point black in front of the silver barrel freezes Dana with a horrified expression, stumbling back and raising both of her hands up as Kokei leaps back in terror. Neither of the three move another inch, although while Dana and Kokei surrender, Ekitai keeps his own weapon up and primed to fire, his expression not fearful but rather aggressive.

Holding the weapon around his hand is the employee also with a truculent face, the weapon around his hand shaped similarly to a compact pistol with a barrel longer than his fingers yet still relatively short, and a design that conceals his palm as though hiding the trigger. The weapon has a notably smooth trapezoidal design with the body ramping from the thick palm to the narrow fingers, and on the dark silver shell is a blue light over the traditional position of the trigger to note activation.

The hand only slightly wavering yet the black vent barrel remaining fixed on target, the employee glimpses over to Ekitai with scrunched eyebrows, standing in front of the mob of agitated customers who just watches standing still.

In the lobby of the humble restaurant stands the four, the one behind the desk weapon aimed straight at the unarmed insistent seeker with the petrified timorous follower, although off to the side being the adventurous gunslinger whose weapon of his own is aimed straight back in such way that provides a perfect uncounterable shot due to the employee’s difference in aim.

Then again, the positioning’s decision on victory was not so straightforward, for while the gunslinger has a very clear aim, his target holds his allies hostage in a shootout, for both of them have the perfect opportunity to do harm to the other, both simultaneously. But in such a way, the moment one of them would act, the other would retaliate, leading to a situation of definite loss, and yet neither of them could back out so easily.

Behind the scene stands the mob of customers in silence, many of them adults but also many children from teens to younger, all watching the two armed men in frightening anticipation.

Glancing between the prey and the predator, the employee finds himself in a precarious position, yet he retains his aim and positioning, for he has no clear intention to concede to these intruders.

He tsks raspily before then remarking, “Knew trouble would kick second saw you come in. Really are nothing more than pirates. Here to pillage my home. Took that mask off so fast. Already knew who you really are. Not gon let you trample my home so fast though. Will take one of you down with me if I gotteh.”

On the other side, Ekitai holds his position, his fingers curled around the thin handle between the wristguard strung up with coils, his pointer finger resting on the trigger just one slight motion away from executing a clean shot. He doesn’t respond, he doesn’t speak, he just glares and waits, waiting for the opening to take his shot, to initiate another fight. For that was what all adventures derived to.

Yet next to the primed gunslinger, Dana waves both of her hands already raised in the air, and dropping the elegant mask she desperately pleads, “Wait hold on now, what are you talking about? That wasn’t at all what we were trying to do, I was just trying to look for someone back there-.”

“As owner of this blish I not gon let anyone harm mah customers,” boldly interjects the employee at the back of the counter, now revealed to be not only a worker of the restaurant but rather the owner himself.

He continues following the misinterpretation, aim maintained, “Gonna lay my life down before you touch one of em. They elders and children back there. This our home. Took enough from us already. Want them, you gon go through me!”

Even more flabbergasted by such intense antagonization, Dana gasps with widening eyes before she then waves her arms again and perilously argues, “What, I’m not trying to, huh, what, wait no the person I’m trying to get isn’t even from here-,”

“It’s useless, Dana,” solemnly explains Ekitai, not moving anything but his mouth, maintaining tactical focus on the owner but now speaking to his ally.

Said ally slowly turns her head towards him astounded to hear him state, “You don’t get it, do you? Of all the hundred worlds, no place hates outsiders more than this one. It makes sense, they’ve been pillaged by outsiders, driven down here to live such miserable lives by outsiders, and then abandoned by outsiders, hell to them the Superverse was probably a mistake. You can’t expect reason from them. You can’t expect cooperation from them. Look, I don’t get much pleasure kicking these people, they’re already bruised enough, but what you got to understand is that we are this world’s enemy, which makes this world our enemy.”

In the center of the chaos, in the target of the aim, in between the two friends she had to look after, there is nothing Dana can do but just stare in dread, glancing between Ekitai and the owner, both of them now just waiting for the other to take the first shot.

She fixes back on Ekitai, knowing full well what his intentions now are, knowing what his plan was if he were to be forced to act first. Such powerful words, an absolute lack of any sarcasm or bounce, he was fully sincere in his belief. She had almost forgotten that in actuality it was not her who picked him up, he was from an entirely different world, a different life, and now she was in that life, and she knew nothing.

She then turns her head to Kokei, who just huddles beside her in terror, her pink irises wide in fright, her body shivering intensely, her mind completely locked up. She had just been drowned in the guilt of her own actions, the siphoning shield she had put up to give her any sense of confidence throughout the whole mission crumbled, leaving a vulnerable mind who couldn’t find what to think. It was a vulnerability Dana herself created, and now in this aftermath state she could do nothing against the intense waves of guilt this world generated whole fields of.

She then faces forward, right down the barrel of the pistol, the pistol she had practically summoned herself with such ignorant actions, as regardless of the way she masked her words she had made such a hasty act that compromised their search. If only she had just stayed from afar, if only she had read the room, if only she was able to think clearly perhaps this would all have not occurred, and yet all she could think about is what was missing.

For this very instant should not be as it is now. This very instant is not at all the conduction prior. Granted this adventure was never particularly smooth, never were they in such state of disarray, all acting on their own accord, Dana simply following any trail impulsively, Ekitai retaliating to the full extent instinctively, and Kokei unable to even make a sound loud enough to be heard multiple feet ahead.

No, they had never fallen into such a state for this adventure, for they were never so loose, but rather there was always the head that strung them together. There was always that one force that binds them as one, a force that could forge them into a competent team, one able to not only survive so many hazardous worlds but even be able to defend against them.

Yet in this very instant that force was absent, gone, its whereabouts not even known. And with that very singular absence, all was collapsed, a disarray of aliens to each other, unable to operate coherently as one against what seems now to be just about any challenge. Something had to be done to escape such a perilous state. For if there was any escalation from here on forth, their downfall would be written in stone at an instant.

Again Dana thrusts her arms up and boldly declares, “Ekitai, Kokei, listen to me! We’re going to slowly walk backwards, and we’re going to slowly leave this building, and we’re going to leave these people alone! Got it?”

Astonished by the sudden call for departure, Kokei blinks twice aghast before then raising her gaze to Dana and querying, “Wait…but what about…you know? Don’t we need to find him…?”

Appalled by the sudden call for retreat, Ekitai deeply groans before then moving his irises to Dana and grilling, “What, so if we just leave then how do you expect us to ever find him? Think Dana, think! We’re never going to get what we want at this rate.”

Questioned from both sides, doubted from both sides, but also from within, Dana groans tiredly from the friendly fire, unable to find strong counters to both valid arguments. But there was only so much that could be done in this instance.

“Just…follow me…please. We’ll…we’ll find another way, but this isn’t it. Come on,” reluctantly orders Dana, and with that she shuffles backwards one step, her hands still in the air, trying her best to make every correct move.

First to follow with no better options herself, Kokei sighs softly to herself before she then also begins to shuffle backwards, trailing Dana’s retreat out back to the doorway with a frown visible between strands of her pink hair that sits over her face.

Initially opposed to the withdrawal, Ekitai stands his ground, his aim still on the owner, his glare still fiery. His rotten teeth clench in anticipation, clearly insistent on retaliation.

Yet as behind him both Dana and Kokei reach the doorway, their decisions finalized, Ekitai groans to himself in angst to the chaotic direction before finally relinquishing his stance, slowly walking backwards as well albeit retaining his aim defensively.

He backtreads from the counter to the doorway with his aim still on the owner, his hands slightly wavering now with a shine on his bald head. Once he slips between the doorway however, he then turns the other way and finishes his evacuation.

Holding his aim still even with no target in sight, the owner of the restaurant maintains his stance for a few extended moments in anticipation for an ambush, waiting patiently. His body does not sweat, but there is visible agitation on his sunken face, his bony arms unable to steady his aim to perfection, his gray eyes keen but uncertain.

Alas however the tension subsides with the deep breath and lowering of his arm, and with that follows the synchronized deep sighs behind him from all the customers who witnessed such a terrifying encounter.

The owner nods his head once to confirm the absence of the aliens before turning around towards the customers as the weapon around his hand unbinds and retracts its plates from those composing the barrel and those making the trigger, all back into the bracelet as an act of concealment.

He takes slow steps towards the customers who gradually begin to sit down with the atmosphere returning, some of them taking light handfuls of pills to swallow although many of their appetite’s have been damaged.

The owner nods his head to his customers and followingly reassures, “Them gone now. Dun know if they got backup though. Got a bad feeling about it. Might be another raid on the rise. Sorry all but gon close shop in few, get home safe and be ready. Them pirates never leave without a mess.”

Disgruntled moans and whispering uproars amongst the customers, knowing they would have to leave so soon and that the establishment would be closing to hide. They were not particularly surprised either with their reactions, rather they show fatigue, drained from a long repetitive history, for this was very much not their first. Some of them already begin to stand up to leave, others trying to finish the rest of their pills off the plates.

Needing to close early is blatantly not ideal for the owner either, as he tsks with disgruntlement too, knowing it was for the best to act with immense caution but knowing what it would sacrifice him for.

He lowers his head with a sigh as a man walks past him towards the exit, carrying a child seemingly only a couple years of age at best, slung on his shoulder. The two take the exit as will the rest of the customers, shaken after a near tragedy.

Out in the bustling city street, already a good distance from the restaurant, Dana paces forward by the center of the road which is consecutively opened up for her as the locals diverge from her presence by the buildings. She just stares forward with heavy huffs, clearly shaken up.

Beside her follows Kokei with a timid expression, glancing around at all the hostile glares given from all angles, now understanding just to what extent that hostility could go, for it was even a matter of life and death. Already she was wary of those who shot such stares, but now there is the additional fear of lethality that further puts her in paranoia which is wholly expressed with her shaky movements and sights between her progressively messier hair.

From the distance behind the two runs up Ekitai, having been the last to leave, panting heavily as he conceals his handgun in the inner pocket of his overcoat. He eventually reaches the two’s side where he allows his pace to slow down to their own so he can catch his breath heavily with wheezes, lowering his head to gaze at the ground after the turbulent interaction.

After catching his breath he raises his head up and releases a raspy displeased gurgle in frustration to the failure that had just occurred, one he had a plan to get through.

In between the two once again strolls Dana –shimmering green eyes staring at the ground with a frown–, however not only is she still swarmed in anxiety over her missing friend, but that anxiety is heightened in knowing just how difficult traversal of this city would be without him. She was so sure of being able to assimilate into this world given her past, yet now in action that confidence was dwindling. Whether for the better or worse, she had changed as a person, and that change rendered her incompatible with these worlds, an incompatibility that seemed to only be filled by the other extremity of Ekitai’s bombastic instincts.

Already exhausted when they had made such little effort, Dana closes her eyes and lowers her head before releasing a gentle sigh, the breeze playing with her bangs as she meditates in this intermission. She continues ahead at a slow pace, isolated from the rest of the world repulsed by her otherworldly nature, rejected by both the land she finds herself on now and her home.

The breeze comes to a stop, letting her bangs fall back into place as she mutters under her breath like a prayer, “Why are you always running…?”