Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tommy stares up at the giant zeppelin parked in the hangar. Its sleek, cream body is striking against the dullness of the walls. It still feels unreal, Tommy thinks, as his footsteps clank against the stairs. Who knew that he would ever get to ride one of these marvellous airships in his lifetime?

“Who was the guy who invited us again, Puffy?” Tommy asks.

“A renowned archaeologist, Mr Billiam,” Puffy says, leafing through a magazine with the man’s face on it.

Wilbur nods. “To investigate an amazing discovery he found. If it had not been for his reputation, I probably would have dismissed it as a farce.”

“He did mention the Azrans, though.”

“He did,” Wilbur says. Probably the reason Wilbur is so interested in the first place.

The interior of the zeppelin is stunning. From the decorative furniture to the fluorescent lighting and the spaciousness. A man greets them by the door, dressed in a green-and-white striped jacket, donning a bucket hat of a similar colour.

“Welcome to the Bostonius,” the man says. “You are Professor Wilbur Soot?”

Wilbur shakes his hands. “Indeed. Wilbur Soot of Gressenheller University. These are my assistants…my friends, Tommy Innit and Puffy.”

“The name’s Phil,” the man says, shaking each of their hand in turn. They are big and calloused. Tommy could fit two of his hands in Phil’s palm. “I am Mr Billiam’s butler.”

Phil leads them into the zeppelin’s lounge area, furnished with orange couches and a coffee table. He shows them to a map.

“I’m sure you know that you are renowned for your archaeological exploits,” Phil says. “And there are many people who pretend to be you. Imposters, if you will.”

“You mean to test me?” Wilbur asks, hands tucked in his pockets.

“Very astute of you.” Phil gestures at the map. “My test comes in the form of a puzzle. If you truly are Wilbur Soot, then you should be able to deduce our destination from the set of rules I am about to give you.”

<Puzzle: Airship ’ s Destination>

“With every new settlement the airship reaches, we will lose one whole bar of fuel,” Phil says. “And you have four bars total. We can stop for refuels along the way at these stations.” Phil gestures to the symbols representing the gas stations. “Each refuel will restore our fuel gauge to its fullest capacity.”

“And we must draw a route that passes by every single one of these towns,” Wilbur says.

Phil nods. “The last town in the route is our destination.”

Tommy squints at the map. Well, it does not seem too difficult, but…

“This one,” Wilbur says, stabbing a finger at a town all the way to the north. “Snowchester.”

Phil whistles. “That’s correct. Well done. The flight’s going to be a long one, so you can sit tight and relax.”

Phil takes the wheel. Tossing a few levers and pressing several buttons, the airship lifts into the air, headed out of the hangar. Tommy clings tightly to the armrest of the couch as his stomach swoops.

Puffy leans back against the couch. Wilbur is exploring the ship, examining the innumerable tomes stacked upon the shelves. Tommy opts to press his face against the cool glass of the window, staring out at the boundless expanse of blue sky dotted with clouds.

The flight is relaxing, the whirr of the engine droning in his ears. They are on their way to Snowchester, a small town hidden in the alcoves of frosty mountains.

Chapter Text

The landing in Snowchester proceeds without a hitch. The zeppelin descends through the thin wisps of clouds, the colourful buildings prominent against the mounds of snow. Tommy’s stomach does somersaults again as the zeppelin touches down lightly on the runway.

“The Bostonius shall await your return,” Phil says. “Mr Billiam should still be in Snowchester somewhere.”

Wilbur is the first out of the aircraft, walking boldly into the winter landscape. Tommy shivers, wishing to be back in the embrace of warmth as soon as he leaves. How can people stand living up here?

The houses are small, most of them covered in snow. All the white hurts Tommy’s eyes. Chilly gales bluster around them, whipping Tommy’s coat around his tiny body. Puffy nearly slips on a patch of ice.

“It’s really…vintage,” Puffy observes, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“It is,” Wilbur says. “Come on. Let’s ask around for Mr Billiam.”

“You don’t have his number?” Tommy asks.

“No. He didn’t give it to me.”

It looks like they are going to have to find the man before they freeze their asses off. Hopefully soon, because at this point, Tommy is expecting to get frostbite in the next few seconds.

Snowchester is home to many interesting individuals, Tommy notices as they traverse the snow-covered roads. Most of the people they encounter have questionable fashion sense. So much that they put the residents of Monte d’Or to shame.

“Excuse me, miss,” Wilbur says, walking up to a girl in a brown, woolly coat. “Have you seen a man who is not from here recently?”

“You mean, like an outsider?” the girl says, wrapping her arms around herself. “Um, well…I…maybe…”

“Maybe?”

“You see, I’m not too sure whether I did see him or not, but if you could help me solve this puzzle…”

Of course it is a puzzle.

“Let me at it, Wilbur,” Tommy says, squaring his shoulders and looking as intimidating as an eleven-year-old child can.

<Puzzle: A Glacial Gift>

“My friend gave me this gift,” the girl says. “The card that came with it says that you can use five 150mL cups of water to melt 30g of ice, and that I’d have to work out how many cups of hot water are necessary to melt the 2kg ice block that’s around it.

“How many hot water cups do I need?”

“Um…” Tommy hums. If he divides 2000 grams by 30 grams…

Wilbur sighs.

“What?” Tommy glares at him. “My brain can’t work math as fast as you can, Wilbur.”

“You don’t need math,” Wilbur says. “You’re just not seeing the trick.”

“What trick?” Tommy hates it when Wilbur always makes him seem dumber than he would like to think he is. What sort of trick can there be to this simple math problem?

“Do you have a hearth? Or a fireplace?” Wilbur asks.

“Um…” the girl tilts her head. “Yeah.”

“You don’t need hot water at all. All you need to do is to place the gift by the fire and wait for the ice block to melt,” Wilbur says.

“What?” Tommy deadpans.

“Ooh, I see, I see!” The girl claps happily. “Thanks for your help! I knew there was something about that gift…”

“It’s no problem,” Wilbur says. “Did you see a strange man around?”

The girl nods. “He went up to the mountains. I’m not sure why. There’s nothing there but a cave.”

“A cave, you say?”

“Yeah, but I’d be careful if I were you,” the girl says. “There’s a really scary snowman living up in those mountains.”

“An abominable snowman?” Puffy asks.

“Yeah,” the girl says, tugging at her hat. “They say the snowman comes alive at night, and it steals people away into its cave! Please be careful!”

“We appreciate the warning,” Wilbur says, nodding. “We’ll be careful.”

They bid the girl goodbye and head towards the mountains. Flakes of crystal drift from the skies, one of them landing softly on Tommy’s nose. They climb flights of stone stairs, passing by shops and eateries. Taking a right at the junction ahead, they cross the train tracks and find themselves walking along the snowy gravel.

“Do you think an abominable snowman really lives up here?” Tommy asks, glancing around. The number of houses begins to thin, dotting the edges of the surrounding cliffs. Who knows where the snowman may be hiding?

“No,” Wilbur says as a matter-of-factly. “It’s a legend. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“But there’s usually a hint of truth to legends,” Puffy says. “If it’s not a snowman, then…”

Puffy trails off as they turn a corner. There, right in front of them, is a giant cave, icicles hanging over its entrance. A snowman stands outside the entrance dressed in cute accessories. Wilbur approaches the cave’s entrance, thumping his fist against a sheet of thick, translucent ice. Tommy can hardly see its interior.

“Puffy, could you…” Wilbur gestures at the ice.

There is no need to tell her twice. Puffy swings a powerful kick at the ice, only for her to leap back as the force rebounds.

“It’s strong,” Puffy says, frowning.

Still, that was a solid blow. How is the ice still standing?

Wilbur inspects it, scrutinizing the sheet of ice. He takes a step back as realization dawns on his face.

“It’s not ice,” Wilbur says. “It’s glass. Some sort of tempered glass.”

“So this is artificial?” Tommy lifts his head to observe the glass door, with no obvious way to open it.

“It is,” Wilbur says. “I wonder if Mr Billiam is in there.”

“It must be really cold, though,” Puffy says. “Do you think he’s okay?”

Wilbur whips his head around, surveying the area. Is he looking for a switch? Some way to open the glass door?

Wilbur approaches the snowman and removes its hat. Nothing happens. He replaces the hat and removes its glove. Also nothing.

“What are you doing?” Tommy asks.

Wilbur does not respond. Instead, he grasps the snowman’s other stick arm and drags it down. As if on cue, the glass door sinks into the ground, rumbling as it slinks beneath the earth. A pile of snow falls over the edge into the chasm below.

“What the hell?” Tommy cries.

“Abominable snowmen don’t exist, Tommy,” Wilbur says. “It was merely a story made up by whoever put this in place to keep people away. And to hide this elaborate mechanism.”

As soon as Tommy steps into the cavern, he is assaulted by a blast of cold air. Even colder than the breezes of the town. Venturing deeper and deeper into the cave, Tommy’s shivers become more and more violent. Icicles hang overhead, glittering from the light of the luminous moss. The pebbles crunch beneath their feet as they make their way past stalagmites and boulders.

There, in the deepest part of the cavern, stands a man dressed all in black, pink hair tumbling past his shoulders. He turns at their presence, arms folded as he regards them with a knowing smile. That must be Billiam.

“Doctor-”

“Professor.”

“Professor Soot,” Billiam corrects, holding out a hand which Wilbur shakes firmly. He greets Tommy and Puffy with an acknowledging nod. “Very glad you could make it.”

“As am I,” Wilbur says. “You said you made a discovery concerning the Azrans…”

“Indeed, and as a fellow archaeologist, I thought that you would have a vested interest in it,” Billiam says.

“I do,” Wilbur affirms. Billiam makes a sweeping gesture, and Tommy’s gaze follows his arm. Puffy gasps. Tommy gawks at the sight before him.

There, trapped in ice, is a boy. A rather tall boy at that. He appears human, a crown perched on his head, a black dress with white hems hanging off his gangly frame.

“My word…” Wilbur mumbles as he walks right up to the sheet of ice.

“The thing is, the boy is sealed in, but it’s nothing that we can’t deal with,” Billiam says. He reaches over and touches the surface of the glass-like sheet. Upon contact, several symbols flash across the clear screen.

The runes, the symbols, are of Azran origin. No doubt about that. Billiam’s fingers dance across the runes. With each touch, the runes seem to shift. It appears to be a puzzle. Tommy can hardly make heads or tails of it, though.

Billiam and Wilbur appear to have no problems with it, touching various segments of the glowing glyphs. As soon as Wilbur brushes the final glyph in the centre of the ice, the rocks around them rumble.

“Tommy!” Puffy grabs Tommy’s arm and yanks him back, just out of the way of an icicle that crashes into the ground. Cracks spider across the surface of the ice, like a lightning bolt across the sky. Tommy can only stare in awe as the ice shatters, giant shards raining on them, pinpricks of pain slicing through their arms and legs.

The boy falls from where he had been encased, eyes closed, body limp. Billiam is the one to catch him, lifting the boy effortlessly into his arms.

“I can feel a pulse, but he is cold,” Billiam says.

“Quick. We should get him warmed up.”

It is then that the boy’s lids flutter, fingers twitching as he awakens from his slumber. The first thing Tommy notices is that his eyes are red and green. Did the Azran have heterochromia too?

“Are you alright?” Puffy asks.

Billiam lets the boy down, the boy’s feet buckling under him. It takes a couple of seconds, but he does stand up alright. His movements are rather jerky, though.

“What’s your name?” Wilbur asks.

The boy says nothing. He keeps his gaze on the ground, looking disoriented. Tommy cannot blame him. Tommy himself is disoriented after only eight hours’ worth of sleep.

“I think we should let him rest first, Wilbur,” Puffy says.

Wilbur nods. He spins on his heels, about to head out, when sudden footsteps alert them to an unwelcome presence. Tommy turns around, finding himself face to face with several uniformed men and women, each armed with a rifle. A gun, of all things! Tommy has only ever seen those in movies!

A collective click rings out in the cavern. Wilbur takes an uncertain step back. A man emerges from the ranks of the soldiers, wearing a self-serving smirk. A blazer is thrown over his buttoned shirt, polished shoes clacking against the stone of the floor. His eyes are shielded by his sunglasses, but Tommy knows he has his gaze on the boy they had just rescued.

“You!” Billiam snarls.

The man gestures at the boy. “Hand him over, or we’re going to have to take him by force.”

“That’s-” Billiam starts, but Wilbur holds out a hand. He gestures at the boy.

“You can have him,” Wilbur says, grabbing the boy’s wrist and tugging at him. The boy stumbles over, clearly still in a state of drowsiness.

“Wilbur!” Tommy cries. What is he thinking?

“Now that’s what I want to hear. If you listen to instructions, you won’t invite trouble, you see,” the man says. The boy pads over to him without so much as a sound. “Now then, we are done here. Farewell.”

With that, the man motions for his men to follow him. Most of them drop their weapons, save for the few at the front, backing away out of the cavern with their barrels still aimed at the group. The plops of water dripping from the ceiling are the only sounds in the deafening silence.

“What were you thinking?” Puffy yells. “Now they have the boy!”

“What? You’d rather just stand your ground and let them shoot us to death?” Wilbur furrows his brows. “We were outnumbered, Puffy. Outnumbered, outmatched.”

“But still!”

Wilbur glances over at the mouth of the cavern, eyes lighting up. Before anyone can react, he has already taken off, sprinting down the mountain path.

“Where the heck is he going?” Billiam is the first one out of the cavern, followed by Puffy and Tommy. Snow has stopped falling, but the cold is still lashing at them. Painfully.  

The soldiers moved swiftly down the frozen cliffs, headed towards their airships parked not far the Bostonius.

Tommy jabs a finger at them. “They’re escaping!”

“Get on the Bostonius! We’re chasing them down!” Billiam shouts.

One by one, the foursome clamber onto the zeppelin. Phil gets to work immediately. Very soon, the Bostonius takes off into the air, making after their quarry. Tommy slams into a bookshelf, the wind knocked out of his lungs as the Bostonius rises.

“We’re never going to catch up to them at this rate!” Puffy stares in dismay out the windscreen. The green ship is disappearing into the distance, weaving through the thin clouds. The Bostonius, on the other hand, is much too bulky to swerve and veer like that.

“This calls for my secret weapon,” Billiam says. “Phil! Do it!”

Phil laughs. “Have fun, Billiam!”

“What do you have planned?” Wilbur asks. Billiam leads them down to the floor below. Tommy’s eyes widen as he stares at a second cockpit just below the first one.

“You there, mate?” Phil asks.

“Ready,” Billiam says, fingers clasping the joystick. With a puff of smoke and the grinding of machines, the tinier airship detaches itself from the giant balloon of the Bostonius, now free to fly and manoeuvre as they wish.

“Let’s go!” Tommy cheers. Soaring through the air at such supersonic speeds, they would at least a fighting chance now. Billiam yanks at the yoke and the airship does a dive, swooping under a snowy overhang.

“What are those?” Billiam squints at the few shapes sailing through the air, aimed right at them.

“Missiles!” Tommy hollers.

Indeed, those streamlined bullets are honest-to-goodness missiles, tails of smoke trailing behind them. Billiam grits his teeth. With an insistent tug, the airship soars upwards, evading the missiles beautifully. Billiam slams a hand on a red button on the dashboard.

“Soot? I’m going to need you to man the gun,” Billiam says.

Wilbur wastes no time in taking up the role, rushing to the dashboard and sinking himself into the seat beside Billiam.

“Those Targent people are really coming for us,” Billiam says, knuckles white with how hard he is gripping the yoke. Another round of missiles arrow through the air, each blasted to bits with Wilbur’s impeccable aim.

“Look at you go, big man!”

Wilbur does not respond, keeping his eyes peeled for the next barrage. Except, it is not missiles this time round. Multicoloured drones flit in the air, blades above their heads chopping through the frigid air. Without warning, they open fire.

Bullets strike the metallic body of the airship, clinking and battering. Tommy yelps as the airship takes a nosedive, heading straight for a body of water littered with floating icebergs.

However, the drones remain persistent. Wilbur steels his gaze, utterly focused as he takes the drones out one by one, riddling them with a rain of bullets. The drones too damaged to fly fall from the sky, crashing into the piles of snow as they go.

“Let’s go!” Tommy yells gleefully.

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Wilbur says.

“Look out!” Puffy cries.

They are approaching a cavern, and fast. There is no time to change course – they are going to have to pass through that cavern and hope for the best.

The airship scrapes the rocky walls. Tommy screams as the airship smashes into a giant icicle. The icicle shatters, scattering piercing shards all over the airship. The windshield is terribly cracked but miraculously holding up.

“Hold on!” Billiam screeches.

The airship barrels past several icy walls, barely missing the hanging stalactites. The airship’s bottom scratches against a rough protrusion, sending the airship bouncing towards the exit.

The airship’s engine splutters as their aircraft tumbles from the cavern, back out into the azure skies. Thankfully, the green airship is within sights – they have yet to lose them! Perhaps they may be able to catch up after all.

“Watch out!”

Wilbur opens fire on the numerous drones bursting from the sides of the airship.

“Get down!” Billiam shrieks.

Wilbur grabs Tommy’s head and drags him down, the both of them narrowly avoiding the barrage of bullets that break the windshield entirely. Scraps of glass swirl around them in the freezing wind that billows.

Billiam hisses, rising from where he had ducked under the dashboard. He quickly moves to steer the airship away from the swathes of trees on the side of the mountain. They have left that hellishly cold place behind, now emerging into the skies of a vast grassland.

“I’m increasing the speed,” Billiam says. “Professor Soot?”

“I got you.” Wilbur squints, watching the missiles burst from the airship ahead. He does not waste a single bullet, each one smashing into the missiles and taking them out. Shrapnel rains to the ground below as the missiles detonate in mid-air.

“Almost there…” Puffy mumbles.

Billiam glances over at Wilbur for a split second. “You can leave by the door over at the back. Let your assistant take over the gun for you.”

“Wait, what are you going to do?” Tommy asks, turning to Wilbur.

“I’m going to get on that airship, of course,” Wilbur says. “We’re going to get that boy back.” Puffy takes over his role just before the next round of missiles are fired, her hair rendered an utter mess by the relentless wind.

“Wait, Wilbur! I’m coming with you!” Tommy cries, grabbing his coat.

“Tommy, I don’t know what I’m going to find in there, but I know it’s going to be dangerous,” Wilbur says. “I don’t want you going in there and bumble about-”

“I’m not a bee, Wilbur. I’m smart.”

Wilbur harrumphs. “Fine. Come on.”

Tommy brightens.

Just as the duo steps out onto the aircraft’s deck, Tommy grips the railing so as not to fall to his untimely demise. A length of rope shoots past his face, inches from his nose, the grappling hook making for the green airship.

The rope curls around the tail of the aircraft, the hook holding it taut and secure.

“Get me the gloves by the door, Tommy,” Wilbur says. Tommy does as he is told, swiping a pair of thick winter gloves. Wilbur slips them on and tests the rope. It appears tough and intact, not fraying one bit.

“I’m going to need you to cling as tightly as you can. Don’t ever let go,” Wilbur says, narrowing his eyes at the rush of leaves beneath them. Falling would mean certain death. Tommy swallows a lump in his throat. He promised Wilbur that he would accompany him and falling to death will not help him with that.

Tommy hops onto Wilbur’s back, wrapped around him like a koala would a tree. Wilbur takes a deep breath, fingers curled tight around the rope. Tommy squeezes his eyes shut. He cannot watch this. It is akin to that moment when one sits at the top of a rollercoaster’s-

Before he knows it, Wilbur has pushed off the edge of the railing, and they zip down the rope. Wilbur’s coat flaps around them, enveloping Tommy in the soft fabric. From a sudden jerk and the subsequent clank, Tommy knows that they have made it. He lets go of Wilbur, legs somewhat trembling. It appears that they have landed in one of the organization’s blind spots. Wilbur runs a hand through his hair, doing his best to smooth out those uncouth locks.

“What now, Wilbur?” Tommy shouts, unable to hear even himself over the roar of the wind.

Wilbur approaches the only door they can enter, yanking at the red wheel affixed on its surface. The door opens with much effort from the both of them, swinging outwards and actually smacking Wilbur in the face.

“Are you alright there, big man?”

Wilbur rubs at the spot, already turning somewhat red. He does not seem very pleased.

“I’m good. Come on, Tommy. Stick close.”

Tommy does as he is told, stumbling through the door and into the body of the airship. It appears empty. The room is filled with all kinds of machinery, cranes and chains lying about, not currently in use.

Wilbur presses his ear against the only other door in the room. When he tries to push it open, however, he is met with great resistance. Tommy glances at the handle.

“It’s locked, Wilbur,” Tommy says.

Wilbur groans.

<Puzzle: Cracking Combinations>

Out of the numbers from 1 to 60, which number cannot be made by adding together any of the combination of these: 0, 1, 2, 4 7, 15, 31?

“Why is it math?” Tommy groans.

“Oh shut up if you’re not going to be helpful,” Wilbur mutters. He mumbles a series of numbers under his breath, before arriving at the answer in record time and tapping the correct digits into the number pad.

The number pad blinks and the lock clicks open. They now come to a walkway suspended above a maintenance room. A few engineers are working on an aircraft below them. Tommy pinches his nose as he takes in a lungful of the stench of oil.

Wilbur is quiet, slinking across the walkway and over to the other end. For a military airship, they do not seem to be heavily guarded at all. Wilbur should not have been so worried. Tommy follows him as he clambers up a steep flight of stairs, flinching at every clang of their shoes against the metallic steps.

When he reaches the top, they come to a rusted metal door. With a ram of his shoulder, Wilbur barrels into the most official-looking room that Tommy has ever seen.

There sits the boy on a chair in the centre of the room, in the same seemingly-catatonic state that they last saw him in. The other person in the room, the leader of the soldiers that they had seen earlier, stands with his back to them.

“I thought you would come,” the man says. He turns, his sneer framed by his thick moustache. Tommy cannot tell what he is thinking – his eyes are still hidden behind his shades. Are those things glued to his face?

“We’ve come for the boy,” Wilbur says. “Hand him over.”

The man laughs. Not one of mirth, but one of amusement. “Very funny. You think that I would give the boy up just because you asked? How important do you think you are, Wilbur Soot?”

“How do you…” A sudden realization dawns on Wilbur. “How do you know my name?”

The man nods. “A good question. But I have no obligation to answer you.”

With a snap of his fingers, the door behind them bursts open, legions of soldiers rushing in with their guns at the ready. Tommy tenses, fingers closing around Wilbur’s arm.

They fell for this bastard’s trap!

“I’ve given you one chance,” the man says. “It doesn’t seem like you want to leave quietly.”

The release of the safety has Tommy shifting even closer to Wilbur. If that is even possible. Are they going to get shot?

“Stop it,” Wilbur says, straightening his shoulders. “I’m the one who decided to hop aboard your airship. Don’t do anything to To-”

“You brought the boy along,” the man says. “He’s going to die too, and it’ll be all your fault.”

Die. They seriously mean to…

Wilbur opens his mouth to protest again, but it is at that moment that the boy, who had been sitting so motionlessly that Tommy almost forgot he existed, rises. He walks over to them, lids hooded, as if in a trancelike state. The attention of all in the room turn to the boy.

A string of incomprehensible words flow from his mouth like water from a river. The crown he wears begins to glow with an iridescent light. The gold blinds Tommy, the boy’s murmurings growing louder and louder as his chants become faster and faster.

“What’s…” Wilbur throws an arm over his eyes. Tommy does the same, shielding his eyes from the light.

A sudden crash above and below them has Tommy jumping. The light dies down almost as suddenly as it had shone. Tommy blinks several times, trying to clear the persisting pink silhouettes from his vision. The other soldiers are understandably rattled, shooting furtive looks around. The boy, on the other hand, remains standing, but is no longer responsive.

“Sir!”

Emerging from a door to their right is a man dressed in a greasy uniform.

“The engine’s down. I don’t know what happened, but we’re going to have to make an emergency landing!”

Before Tommy can hear the man’s reply, someone grabs his arm. The airship begins to sway, falling victim to the turbulence of the howling wind. Tommy yelps as he is dragged along by an insistent hand, out of the room and down another corridor.

Following Wilbur, Tommy scurries along, stumbling when the airship rumbles and jerks. The boy is unconscious, limp lanky body thrown over Wilbur’s shoulder. They traverse the length of the corridor, battling the strong winds as they rush to the back of the ship.

The rope strung between the two aircrafts comes into view. The grappling hook clatters loudly, and Wilbur makes a lunge for it just as the rope disentangles itself.

“There they are!”

Tommy whips his head back, two soldiers having barged through the door.

“Grab on!” Wilbur tosses the rope to Tommy, who catches it. Wilbur grabs a length of the rope with one hand, the other wrapped around the boy who still hangs limply from his shoulder.

“Let’s go, Tommy!” Wilbur shouts.

A screech tears from Tommy’s throat as they leap from the deck, clinging tightly to the rope. It is his only, literal lifeline. A bullet whizzes by his head, nicking his cheek. Warm liquid oozes from the wound, and Tommy yelps as another bullet sails by them, nearly hitting Wilbur.

An explosion rings out from the green airship and it begins to lose altitude. Fast. As much as Tommy wants to declare themselves winners, to laugh at their enemy, it is much too soon to celebrate.

Their feet are almost touching the leaves below as the Bostonius begins to descend towards a lake. Tommy glances up at the airship, eyes widening when he realizes that a stream of black smoke trails behind it.

Just when Tommy thought it cannot get any worse, the boy awakens from his stupor. He glances around, lips parted, as he takes in his surroundings.

“W-What? Where?” the boy stutters. He begins to struggle, twisting and turning. The airship swerves sharply above them, and that is the moment Wilbur loses his grip on him.

The boy goes tumbling into the brushes below. Tommy’s stomach drops in tandem with a splutter from the engine above. His shriek is caught in his throat, palms burning against the rope as he slides further down, but he refuses to let go.

The airship descends, excruciatingly slowly. Tommy braces himself as they enter the forest, gnarled branches battering painfully at his torso.

“Tommy! Jump!”

Is Wilbur insane?

“Now!”

What the hell?

Tommy falls, tiny body plunging through the air, eyes squeezed shut. Warmth envelopes him, the familiar scent of aftershave wafting around him right before they land in a carpet of crisp leaves.

Tommy’s heart is still pounding. Forget the Masked Gentleman and Techno’s digging machine. This has got to be the most exhilarating adventure yet.

Wilbur releases him and sits upright, crunching the leaves beneath him.

“Oh fuck,” Wilbur mutters, reaching into his coat and fishing out a bandage. “Hold still, Tommy.”

Tommy grimaces as Wilbur gingerly sticks the bandage on the wound across his cheek. To be honest, he had completely forgotten about it. His body smarts from the ordeal but they are alive, and that is all that matters.

“Where are we?” Tommy wonders.

Wilbur glances around, teeth over his lip.

It looks like they are going to have to brave the elements till they see a familiar face. Puffy and Billiam could not have landed far.

Chapter Text

The forest is so thick that Tommy cannot even see the skies. He wonders where Billiam and Puffy have gone. Surely not far, and Tommy has not heard an explosion. They must be fine.

“Wilbur! Tommy!”

Speak of the devil. Puffy and Billiam run up to them from the Bostonius parked at a distance. Their clothes have seen better days, but otherwise they are unharmed.

“Oh my God, I thought you guys were dead for a moment there,” Puffy says.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Wilbur says, sighing. “We’re still stranded in the middle of a forest.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t say we’re stranded,” Billiam says. “We landed pretty near a village, just across the lake.”

“A lake?”

The lake in question lies a stone’s throw from where they are. It reminds Tommy of the one back at Misthallery, what with the thick fog settled over its surface. Tommy spots the Bostonius, the airship having crashed into the gravelly bed at the edge of the lake.

Tommy spots a cluster of houses on the other end of the lake. Most of them built over the water are raised by stilts, looking like they are made from driftwood. Tied to the stilts are boats of all shapes and sizes, colours dulled by age.

“Have you seen the boy, by the way?” Wilbur asks suddenly.

Tommy almost forgot about him.

“Can’t say I have,” Billiam says, shaking his head. “I assumed they were still with Targent.”

“We managed to get him out of there, but we…Regretfully, he dropped to the forest below and…”

“Who’s Targent?” Tommy asks.

“The military group whose airship we just escaped from,” Wilbur says. He turns to Billiam. “They seem interested in the Azrans as well.”

“Yeah, they are,” Billiam says, sighing. “The power of the Azrans is so massive that once all their secrets are unlocked, one can control the world.”

“Control the world?” Puffy asks. What could the Azran have kept away that is just so mighty?

“And you say Targent wants to use this power for their own gain?” Wilbur asks.

“That sounds like every villain ever,” Tommy mutters.

“Well, they’re certainly after the boy. You can’t deny that fact,” Billiam says. “He is the final living relic of the Azran civilization, so whoever gets a hold of him…”

“Would be one step closer to unravelling the secrets of the Azran,” Wilbur says, nodding. “Essentially, we need to stop Targent from getting to him first.”

“Let’s ask around town,” Puffy says. “Someone might have seen the kid.”

Assuming he still lives. Then again, he and Wilbur did fall from approximately the same altitude and here they are. Alive and kicking.

Tommy can hardly wrap his head around the whole situation. What exactly happened in that room? Did the boy cause that explosion with those weird mantras of his? Did he really perform magic?

What secrets of the Azran does the boy holds the key to? How could he still be alive after all that? Did he enter some kind of hibernation mode like a bear or something?

Tommy fidgets with the strap of his satchel as he trails after them. He can only hope that all will be answered in due time, once they have found him.

*

The village is rather out of the way. The only path leading into the settlement is a winding dirt path through the surrounding forest faintly imprinted with tyre tracks.

The pungent smell of fish hits Tommy like a freight train. He suppresses the natural instinct to gag, although his companions appear unaffected by the stench.

Their footsteps are noisy on the boardwalk, drenched and rotten wood thumping beneath their weight. The village is quiet, with hardly any people up and about in the streets.

The boardwalk delivers them to a market. The smell of fish is stronger here, if it is even possible. The only two stalls are selling seafood (mainly fish) and vegetables and fruits.

“Excuse me, sir,” Wilbur says, approaching the fishmonger. The plump man looks up, a smile brightening his face of stubble.

“You the new survivors, huh?” the man says, his grubby hands on his waist.

“I…Pardon?” Wilbur starts, obviously taken aback by the label.

“Just saw one of them funky planes crash over there yonder,” the man says, gesturing to a hill, also covered in an expanse of trees. “The green was really striking, I must say.”

Green! Tommy glances over at Wilbur and the rest of his companions. He has read somewhere that green is the most welcoming colour, but this is just not the case this time round. Green was the colour of the Targent airship they escaped from!

Before any of them can get another word in, the man continues, “Many aircrafts crash around here. If you walk through the forest you can see a lot of the wreckage. Most people survive, but some…” He trails off, before clapping his hands, forcing a grin on his face. “Anyway, how many I help you, eh? Want some fish?”

“Not quite,” Wilbur says. “We’re looking for a boy in a strange dress.”

“A boy, huh?” The man scratches his chin. “You talking black and white?”

“That’s the one,” Puffy says, nodding. “Do you know where he went?”

“I think I saw him head up those hills, near Boris’ hut,” the man says. Gaze following his direction, Tommy notices the mentioned hut standing forebodingly in the distance, just past the shopping street. “You could ask Boris. He might have seen him.”

Billiam thanks the man, and the party of four sets off towards the hills. The shopping street is flanked with shops, most of them dilapidated. The alabaster walls are tearing, paint chipped and awnings ripped, as if the terrible jaws of a shark tore through the flimsy fabric.

Most of them are not even open. Not the clothes shop, or the bait and tackle shops. The only one that emits a visible glow is a simple café, a woman mopping the floor within.

The winding path takes them straight up to the hill that the fishmonger had pointed out. The hill also houses a train station, empty and littered with trash like bundles of crumpled newspapers and aluminium cans.

“Is that…” Puffy squints.

Tommy freezes. There, standing at the entrance of the lone hut on the hill, are Targent soldiers clad in navy. They appear to be interrogating the man on his porch. His arms are folded, answering the questions with a certain apprehension.

“Shoot,” Billiam mutters.

Wilbur shakes his head. “They have not yet found the boy. They wouldn’t be asking around if they did.”

“Then shall we wait for them to go away?” Puffy asks.

Thankfully, the wait is not long. Very soon, the soldiers are trudging down the hill and down the boardwalk, away from where Wilbur and the others are gathered. It is a good thing too. The group is dressed so differently, so outlandishly, compared to the townspeople that they would have been recognized immediately. Getting shot and potentially dying is not on Tommy’s bucket list.

“Come on,” Wilbur says. “Let us go and ask Boris.”

Wilbur takes the lead, making the arduous climb up the steep flight of stairs. He knocks several times on the door, only to hear a sharp shout from the inside.

“I told you I know nothing!” The door is yanked open, and Tommy freezes at the sight of the livid expression on Boris’ face. Wilbur remains unfazed. Boris pauses, surprise flitting over his features, before he mellows down, looking almost sheepish.

“Sorry about that,” Boris says, scratching his head. “It’s just…There was this group of people that came ‘round and…yeah.”

“It’s quite alright. I understand the…ah, the animosity,” Wilbur says, nodding. “They’re an unsavoury group of people.”

Boris chuckles. “Well, you seem like good lads. Visitors, are you?”

“Indeed,” Billiam agrees. “So, we’ve got a question for you. Did you see a boy in black and white? He’s also exceptionally tall.”

“I did,” Boris says. “I saw him heading further up to the outlook.” The outlook appears to be a natural observation deck at the top of the hill. “But I don’t know if he’s still there.”

“That’s incredibly helpful,” Wilbur says, flashing him a grateful smile. “Thank you very much.”

They bid Boris a quick farewell and are soon on their way up the staircase, making sure not to slip on the crumbly steps. The smell of the woods begins to override the stench of the fish, which Tommy appreciates. Soon, they find themselves once more in the company of rustling leaves, in the melodic chirps of birds, in the embrace of serenity.

Tommy’s spirits are immediately let down when they do not find the boy at the outlook. It would have been too easy otherwise, perhaps. However, the view here is fantastic. From the top of the hill, they may see the entire lake, swaddled with thick shrouds of fog. A flock of corvids fly overhead, wings outstretched and gliding with the wind.

Tommy sneezes and rubs at his nose. Well, this had been a wasted tr-

Suddenly, he catches sight of something peculiar. Something strange. He rubs his eyes. No, that is not an illusion. Tommy jabs a finger at the figure seemingly walking on the ice.

“Is that-!” Tommy starts. “That’s…”

“That’s him!” Puffy cries. “He’s walking on water!”

“Quick, we must get down there!” Billiam is already hurrying down the staircase, taking two steps at a time. Wilbur is hot on his heels, with Tommy and Puffy following behind.

Tommy manages to catch up with Wilbur and Billiam as the two of them stand at the edge of the lake. Tommy narrows his eyes, trying to spot the boy through the fog.

“He’s not walking on water.” Wilbur taps what must be a floating ice shelf. Thin enough to remain unseen in the fog, although thick enough to hold their weight.

“Come on,” Wilbur says. “Let us find the boy.”

<Puzzle: Walking on Water>

Stepping on an ice shelf sets it in motion, and it keeps moving until it bumps into something or reaches the shore. Using the floating ice shelves and the small islands in the lake to their advantage, they should be able to catch up to the boy.

By the time they step off the final ice shelf, the fog begins to thin somewhat; Tommy can finally see the two feet in front of him. The boy stands atop the tiny island in the middle of the lake, hands by his sides, completely relaxed.

Then, Tommy hears it. The chanting, the mystical words pouring forth from the boy’s mouth. It grates on his eardrums, sending waves of uneasiness through his body. He can hardly understand what the boy is saying, but he can sense the shift in the atmosphere.

The water swirls around them, almost like a giant whirlpool. Tommy steps further from the edge, wedging himself between Wilbur and Puffy as the vortex grows more and more violent. Droplets spray against the sides of the rock, granting the boulders a glimmering sheen.

If anything, the boy’s chanting is getting louder, till it drowns out all other sound. Suddenly, stone pillars rise from around them, encircling them. Right in front of the boy is another giant pillar, blanketed in moss. Luminous moss.

Tommy stares, slack-jawed at the monument that had cropped up out of nowhere. Puffy gapes at the sight. Meanwhile, Wilbur and Billiam are unfazed, seriousness on their faces as they regard the towering pillar.

The boy walks, footsteps sure as he enters the pillar through the cracked doorway.

“Where is he going?” Puffy asks.

Wilbur shrugs. He brushes by them as he walks after the boy, followed by Billiam. Puffy and Tommy exchange glances.

The pillar within is nothing like what Tommy has ever imagined. An elaborate artwork decorates the interior, looking like constellations in the night sky. The boy walks into the centre of the circular room and turns to face them, his eyes glowing.

“You seek the Azran’s Legacy.”

His voice is deep, Tommy notes. He has never quite heard the boy speak till now, besides that chanting.

“That, we do,” Wilbur says.

“I am Ranboo, the emissary of the Azrans,” the boy says, taking a bow. He spreads his arms, and the constellations around them begin to glow eerily. Tommy gapes as the entire room lights up around them, illuminating the room brilliantly.

“If you wish to embark on your journey, then I implore that you first solve this puzzle,” Ranboo says, standing off to the side. Tommy cannot quite take his eyes off Ranboo’s smug smirk. Jesus, the boy must think he is a saint. It makes Tommy mad. “It will serve you well as a guide.”

“A guide, hmm?” Wilbur says. “This entire room must be a map, then.”

“But how do we know where to start?” Puffy asks. Tommy understands the issue here. He can hardly make heads or tails of the lines and dots, as pretty as they may be.

<Puzzle: The Celestial King>

“The clue lies in the fable passed down for generations of Azrans,” Ranboo says. “There once lived a Celestial King. He had five sons, the five Riders of the Sky. The five Riders were prone to showing off. They liked to prove their competence, and constantly warred in the skies. The King was tired of their antics and used his sword to divide the land into ten parts with four strokes.

“He cast the five Riders onto the earth and stripped them of their power, but also gave them keys, so that they may find their way home once they have learned to live in peace with each other.”

“These keys…” Billiam turns to Wilbur. “They must be the relics we need to unlock the Azran Legacy.”

Wilbur nods. “The King divided the land into ten parts with four strokes. Does that mean we need to recreate the story?”

Ranboo does not answer.

Wilbur draws the final line across the map, and the chamber rumbles. The symbols of the five Riders sparkle and shine. Tommy squints, watching as five egg-shaped artefacts emerge from the Riders’ symbols.

“These are the Azran eggs,” Billiam says. “But they’re fakes.”

“The real ones must be out in the world somewhere,” Wilbur says. “We’re just going to have to find them.”

“So we must travel the world?” Tommy asks.

“Looks like it.”

“We of the Azran will wait,” Ranboo continues, in that unsettling monotone of his. “A person worthy will appear before us and obtain the Azran Legacy.”

With that, the menacing glow in Ranboo’s eyes dies down. The constellations fade, plunging them into darkness, their only light source the rays of waning sunlight from outside.

“Um…” Ranboo blinks, looking utterly confused. “Who are you?”

Tommy mirrors his expression. “What do you mean? We’re the ones who saved you!”

Ranboo tilts his head, contemplating whatever Tommy has just said. He lowers his head in shame. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember…”

“Oh, don’t be so harsh on him, Tommy,” Puffy says, walking forth. She grasps Ranboo’s shoulders, the scene somewhat comical as Ranboo is certainly much taller than her. “Look, we’re your friends, Ranboo.”

“Ranboo?”

“That’s…that’s your name,” Billiam says.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I really don’t…” Ranboo mumbles mournfully. “I really don’t remember.”

“It’s fine,” Puffy says. “You should come with us until you get your memories back. How about that?”

“Go with you?”

“There are bad men out there who want to do harm to you,” Wilbur says. “If you come with us, we can protect you from them.”

Ranboo bites his lip, staring at his feet. What is there to think about? Why is he taking so long?

“I suppose I can come with you,” Ranboo says, lifting his head shyly. Tommy does a little victory jig in his head. Well, now he can be the big man and show Ranboo around London.

“Let’s get back to the airship before Targent gets here,” Billiam says. “I’ve phoned Phil. He told me he’d be arriving soon.”

“And we can let Ranboo rest too,” Puffy says. “He’s gone through a lot today.”

“Gone through a lot?” Ranboo asks.

Explaining everything that just happened to Ranboo is going to take a while.

*

“Everyone on board?”

Tommy witnesses the true might of the Bostonius as the giant zeppelin lifts the battered airship into the air. Tommy makes himself comfortable on the couch. Ranboo is fast asleep on the other one, using Wilbur’s coat as a makeshift pillow.

Meanwhile, Wilbur and Billiam are chatting about the strange Azran relic that Ranboo had summoned from the depths of the lake. Puffy sits on the chair beside Phil, talking about…something Tommy cannot be bothered with.

He can hardly contain his excitement. After all, they are going on the expedition of a lifetime.

Chapter Text

“Inspector Ponk. I’ve been looking for you.”

Ponk closes the door behind him. In all honesty, his heart is racing, a million thoughts racing through his head. This man who has summoned him, Detective Inspector Eret, is one of the top inspectors in Scotland Yard. What does he want with Ponk?

“I…I’m here,” Ponk says, nodding, clasping his fingers unsurely in front of him. “What do you want from me?”

“Have you heard of an organization called Targent?” Eret asks, the nib of his pen still scrawling cursively across the page. He glances up at Ponk, before looking back down and focusing on his document.

“I don’t think so, no.”

“They are a military group hell-bent on causing mayhem wherever they go,” Eret says. “They are a big organization, with moles everywhere.”

“Moles?” Ponk asks.

“Spies.” Eret signs his name at the bottom of the document and places it atop a tall stack. He puts his pen down with a faint clatter and regards Ponk with his fullest attention. Ponk’s breath catches in his throat.

“You think I’m a spy, sir?”

“Oh, no. Nothing of the sort,” Eret says, shaking his head, smiling at the visible slump of Ponk’s shoulders. He is no spy. Absolutely not. “However, I do believe that there are spies in the police force.”

Ponk pauses, waiting for his superior to continue.

“It is impertinent that you catch the mole, Ponk, before they can continue leaking our secrets to their leader.”

Ponk salutes him. “You can count on me, sir! I will do you proud!”

Eret nods. “Do be careful, though, Inspector. Targent is a dangerous group. If you encounter anything dangerous, run and alert us. Am I clear?”

Ponk nods stiffly. He leaves upon Eret’s dismissal. He leans on the wall outside his office, still trying to calm his racing heart. Eret’s words ring in his ears, the raw implication overwhelming.

Someone in their ranks is a spy. Perhaps in the upper echelons of the force, or he may be a lowly patrolman. Either way, it is up to Ponk to unravel this mystery and expose the mole for who they are.

Before that, though, he needs to do some much-needed investigation.

*

“Alright, so oats, check. Figs, check,” Puffy says, ticking off the checklist on her phone as they wander the streets of London. Ranboo is enthralled by literally everything, from the buildings to the people to the life of the city. Everything catches his attention, no matter how mundane it may seem. “Is there anything else?”

“Actually,” Wilbur says, holding up a finger, “there is one more thing.”

Tommy peers up at him curiously. What else do they need?

“Ranboo is garnering a lot of attention,” Wilbur says, gesturing at their friend’s dress. “I think we should procure some more…modern clothes for him.”

Ranboo glances down at himself self-consciously. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“People don’t usually dress like that,” Tommy says. Honestly, Ranboo looks like he has just walked right out of a historical drama movie.

“Well, let’s go and find some, then,” Puffy says, slipping her phone into her pocket. “I think I saw a nice shop just around the corner over there.”

Shopping for clothes has never been one of Tommy’s favourite activities. It would probably hit rock bottom on the list. Ranboo does not seem to mind, more impressed than anything, as Puffy holds several outfits out in front of the mirror.

Tommy glances over at Wilbur. He is on the phone with someone. A serious phone call. Tommy sighs.

“Well, this looks fine,” Puffy says, hands on her hips.

Tommy puts his phone down. Instead of the black-and-white dress that he had been wearing before, he is now clad smartly in a white buttoned shirt and a black jacket, a red tie around his neck, complemented by a pair of black dress trousers. The crown is still perched atop his head, but it lends a nice touch to the rest of the attire.

“This looks a little…strange,” Ranboo says, tugging at the hem of his jacket.

“You make him look like an office worker, Puffy,” Tommy huffs.

Ranboo droops.

“Well, at least it’s better than the dress.”

Ranboo perks up.

Tommy pauses. “If you say so.”

It is then that Wilbur gets off his call.

“Turns out that there’s been a theft at the museum,” Wilbur says. “Clark said he’s going to go down to investigate.”

“My dad?”

“Theft at the museum?” Puffy asks. “Who would want to steal from a museum?”

“You have no idea,” Wilbur says, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “He’s requested that I accompany him to investigate. You, Tommy and Ranboo can head on over to the Bostonius first and I’ll join you when I’m done.”

“No way,” Tommy says, shaking his head. “We’re talking about a museum theft, man! Let us come!”

“Tommy…”

Just then, Tommy spots someone out of the corner of his eye. Someone familiar.

“Is that the Inspector?” Tommy says, gaze following the figure walking down a deserted alleyway, wearing a thicker and duller coat than usual. What is he doing?

“He’s not usually sneaking around like this,” Puffy says. “Let’s follow him.”

Wilbur is not very enthusiastic about it, but he does seem somewhat interested, at least. Puffy takes the lead, striding right up to the alley Ponk just dived into.

As soon as they turn the corner, Tommy hears gunshots.

What was that?

Puffy breaks into a sprint, feet pounding the stone as she makes for the sound.

“Tommy, you stay here with Ranboo,” Wilbur says quickly before running after her, leaving Tommy and Ranboo standing dumbfoundedly at the mouth of the alley.

As if Wilbur is expecting Tommy to miss out on the fun. He grabs Ranboo’s wrist and pulls him into the alleyway. Ranboo stumbles, letting out a noise of surprise as Tommy drags him, dashing towards the source of the brawl.

They arrive just in time to find Puffy dishing out a mean roundhouse kick, absolutely shattering a man’s shin. Another man goes flying, body crashing into a wall. Wilbur tends to an injured Inspector Ponk, clutching his shoulder as a bloodstain blossoms on his coat.

The armed men quickly bolt, blood-curling screams echoing in the air. Tommy watches as they go, taking off toward the other end of the alleyway. Tommy turns his attention away from them and towards Ponk.

“Are you alright?” Puffy asks.

Ponk winces. “Do you think I look fine, Puffy?”

“I’ve called the ambulance,” Wilbur says. “They will be here any minute.”

“Why were you fighting those guys, Ponk?” Puffy asks. “Who were they?”

“It’s a top-secret police investigation, Puffy,” Ponk grits out. “I don’t think I should be saying…”

“Does the word ‘Targent’ ring a bell, Inspector?” Wilbur asks. Ponk’s eyes go wide as he snaps his head up to look at him. Wilbur smirks. “I thought so.”

If those people were Targent, then…

The blare of sirens is loud, piercing Tommy’s ears. Ponk is quickly lifted onto a gurney and into the ambulance. Puffy opts to follow him, leaving Tommy with Wilbur and Ranboo.

Tommy glances up at Wilbur, who is making his way toward where the Targent people had disappeared to. Quickly following, Tommy and Ranboo emerge onto the main street, just across from the museum. Tommy surveys the courtyard by the entrance of the establishment. There are several officers milling about. A man appears to be speaking to them, a man that Tommy knows all too well.

“Dad!”

The man spins on his heels, face lighting up upon noticing their arrival.

“I thought you would be here,” Clark Innit says, ruffling Tommy’s hair. Tommy harrumphs. He does not like to be treated like a child. He is also acutely aware of Ranboo’s incessant staring. Clark turns to Wilbur.

“Thank you for coming, Wilbur,” Clark says. “The artefact that has been stolen appears to belong to that of the Azran exhibit.”

“The Azran?” Wilbur asks.

Tommy is about to pipe up with a question when there is a sudden pressure against his head. Tommy snarls, looking up to find Ranboo staring curiously at him, his fingers threading through Tommy’s hair.

“What the f-What are you doing?” Tommy demands.

“Um…am I not supposed to do that?” Ranboo withdraws his hand immediately.

“No.”

“Oh.”

There is a moment of awkward silence between them. Ranboo shuffles uncomfortably, and Tommy makes no move to reassure him.

Eventually, Wilbur and Clark conclude their conversation and they proceed into the museum. Tommy hates whenever Wilbur gets like this, going on and on about his ancient artefacts that have been in the ground for years and years. He never pays attention to Tommy anymore. Then again, at least there is Ranboo to keep him company. Clueless, innocent Ranboo.

The museum’s lobby is as big and grand as Tommy remembers – he came once with Wilbur, when he first moved to London – with that dinosaur skeleton on display. A taxidermic whale hangs from the ceiling, massive body supported by thin but strong wires.

The Azran exhibit is on the second floor of the museum, past several other exhibits. Ranboo pins each earthenware pot, each inscribed tablet, with a piercing gaze, as if he can take their histories apart with nothing more than his eyes.

With that said, Ranboo is rather curious himself. Tommy would not be surprised if he could, considering everything else he could do as the emissary of the Azrans.

Speaking of the Azrans, they arrive at the exhibit before long. Tommy is no more impressed with their collection of Azran relics than he is with the rest of the museum’s artefacts. History has never been his strong suit.

There are officers stationed here too, each of them saluting Wilbur and Clark. Tommy follows them in, bowing his head. He feels out of place amongst all these…all these big men.

“This is the one,” Clark says, gesturing to a glass case that has been cordoned off by black-and-yellow tape. The artefact lying within appears to be a case, with several tablets stuffed inside. Clark pulls up a photograph on his phone, one that depicts the same tablets.

“This was the original artefact,” Clark says. “Now, from what I hear, a few of the artefacts that the thief returned have found to be fake.”

“What’s this about several thefts?” Wilbur asks, furrowing his brows. “You don’t mean to say that…”

“The thief has struck multiple times before,” Clark says. “The leading detective inspector has been able to recover most of the artefacts, or so he thought. Turns out majority of them are fakes.”

Ranboo leans down, whispering to Tommy, “What is a detective inspector?”

“Someone scary. You wouldn’t want to mess with them.”

“Oh. And they’re with the police?”

“Yeah.”

“Excuse me, Clark. I would like to speak to the officers, if you don’t mind,” Wilbur says. Clark nods in acknowledgement before returning to scrutinize the tablets. Ranboo leans over Tommy’s father’s shoulder, peering at the artefact as well. Clark does not seem to mind.

Tommy, on the other hand, finds crime much more interesting than some stone tablets with their weird inscriptions. He trails after Wilbur as the man pulls an officer aside.

“Pardon me, sir. May I know who was the one in charge of the security detail during the time of the theft?” Wilbur asks.

“Oh, that would be Detective Inspector Frost, sir,” the officer says. “He was the one who assigned the patrol routes.”

“Patrol routes?”

“I’m not sure I can say more,” the officer says with a shake of his head. “This operation was supposed to be rather high on the confidentiality scale, you see.”

“But you know that an artefact from this museum was going to be stolen, because you had patrol routes assigned by the Detective Inspector himself,” Wilbur repeats.

The officer looks somewhat uncomfortable.

“Has Detective Inspector Frost been the one to oversee all the theft cases?”

The officer nods proudly. “From the very first one. He has been tireless in pursuing the thief, good sir. The culprit remains at large, but Detective Frost has managed to return most of the stolen goods to their rightful places.”

“I see.” Wilbur smiles. “Thank you for your time, officer.”

“Good day to you too.”

Tommy looks up at Wilbur with a quizzical expression. “You look very smug. I don’t like it.”

“I think I have pieced it all together,” Wilbur says, ignoring the last sentence. “It’s as easy as pie, if you think about it.”

Tommy bristles at that. It is hardly as easy as pie. Now that Wilbur has conjured that image in his head, Tommy’s tummy rumbles at the thought of the delicacy.

“Can you call Puffy? Or message her. Tell her to meet us at Scotland Yard.” Wilbur asks. He walks over to Clark, presumably to talk about the fake tablets. Tommy does as he is told, receiving a response almost immediately. She is on her way there now, having just left the hospital.

“Most of them were fakes,” Wilbur observes, glancing down at the two tablets picked out from nine.

Ranboo nods. “I can only sense essence from these two.”

“Sense the essence?” Clark wonders. He chuckles. “Well, I’d like to sense its essence too, honestly. Would make my life a lot easier.”

Ranboo blinks.

“We must part ways for now, Clark,” Wilbur says. “We will be heading off to the Aerodome after that.”

“Embarking on your adventure, eh?” Clark says, pinning Tommy with a serious gaze. “Don’t cause trouble for Wilbur, alright? You can be quite a handful sometimes.”

“I’m not!”

Clark smiles. “Be off with you. Remember to call sometime.”

Tommy nods, puffing his chest out. He is a big man now, able to go on his big man adventures with his best friend Wilbur Soot. Speaking of whom, Wilbur is headed out of the museum faster than Tommy realizes. He scurries after Ranboo and the professor, the trio on their way towards Scotland Yard.

*

“Hey!”

Puffy waves cheerily, putting her phone down. She stands by the entrance of Scotland Yard. Wilbur strides over to her, with Tommy and Ranboo in tow. Ranboo is fixated on the building, staring at it, as if trying to take it apart piece by piece.

“So, what’s up?” Puffy asks. “Why are we at the police station?”

“There has been a string of theft cases recently,” Wilbur says. “Of Azran relics, it seems.”

“Azran relics?” Puffy cocks her head.

“Yes,” Wilbur says. “And I know the identity of the perpetrator.”

“Do you now? Well, this is something I’d like to see,” Puffy says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Tommy has never actually been inside Scotland Yard. He has never any reason to be here. Wilbur and Puffy, on the other hand, seem to know the building like the back of their hand. The relaxed security officer has kicked her legs up on the counter, plucking at the cuticle on her nails.

“Excuse me, officer,” Wilbur says. “May I know if Detective Inspector Frost is available?”

“What does DI Frost have to do with this?” Puffy asks.

“You’ll see,” Wilbur says. The officer swings her legs back down on the ground and proceeds to ring up the Inspector. After a couple of words exchanged, the officer hangs up.

“He’s a little busy right now but will be able to attend to you in a couple of minutes,” the officer says. “Would you like a puzzle in the meantime?”

<Puzzle: Carriages of Justice>

“There was a case a while back where three fugitives were trying to escape on board a train. They each got into different carriages, but none of them hid in the first or the last one.

When we boarded the train in pursuit, the plan was to trap them by having a man in each carriage where a fugitive was hiding, as well as the carriages on either side. In the end, the team we needed was the smallest it could have possibly been.

How many officers were in the team?”

“The answer’s five,” Wilbur says. “Because there are five carriages at the minimum.”

The officer nods, impressed. The phone rings and she picks up, speaking quickly with the person on the other end.

“DI Frost is free to see you now. His office is the one at the end.” The officer gestures at the long corridor to their left. Wilbur thanks her.

The door opens with a creak and the four come face to face with Inspector Frost, who rises to greet them.

“Good morning,” Frost says, reaching out for a handshake. Wilbur takes it. “It’s a pleasure to see you, Professor.” He nods at Tommy, Puffy and Ranboo. “And your friends as well.”

“It’s good to see you too,” Wilbur says. “I will cut to the chase, Inspector Frost. I have been told that you are involved in the recent string of cases regarding the theft of Azran artefacts.”

“That’s quite right,” Frost says, settling back down at his desk. “It was rather unfortunate that the thief has managed to slip through my fingers every time.”

“Indeed. Truly unfortunate,” Wilbur says, nodding. “However, the thief will not escape this time, Inspector Frost, for I know his identity exactly.”

“Do tell.”

“The only person who could have masterminded this entire plan, the only one who had the capability, has to be you, Inspector Frost.”

Tommy stares from Wilbur to Frost, then back to his friend.

“I don’t quite understand,” Frost says, clasping his fingers, furrowing his brows. If he is acting, Tommy has got to give him kudos for it. “I am the officer in charge of this case, Professor. I’m doing all I can in my power to recover the artefacts.”

“That is what you say,” Wilbur says with a raised finger. “But after considering what I had seen and heard, you are the only person with the opportunity and the means.”

“Are we going into that now?” Frost says with a smile. “Two can play that game, Professor.”

Wilbur smirks.

<Puzzle Battle: vs Ant Frost>

“The thief stole the artefacts and replaced them with fakes. He then manipulated police information and disrupted the investigation,” Wilbur says. “It must have been someone with a position of power within the police.”

“These are preposterous claims, Professor. What evidence have you to back them up?” Frost asks.

“Well, we know that the patrol shift details were kept secret from most of the police force. Only a select few individuals knew about them, one of them being…

1. “Yourself.”
2. “Inspector Ponk.”
3. “Mr Billiam.”

“Naturally. We wouldn’t want the details getting out to the thief himself,” Frost says. He sighs, glancing down at his desk. “Even then, it wasn’t enough to stop the thief from stealing yet again. I’ll admit it was poor judgement on my part.”

“Yet, you managed to recover every single piece of stolen artefact,” Wilbur says. “I think that’s rather impressive.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“May I ask what you did with the artefacts once they were recovered?” Wilbur asks.

“I kept them here,” Frost says, gesturing to the expanse of his office. “What of it?”

Wilbur chortles. “Then that proves my point: you are the thief, Inspector.”

“How does that conclusion hold?” Frost frowns. Already, Tommy can see the cracks in his façade as Wilbur chips at his mask of indifference.

“If you had kept the artefacts safe as you say, then no one else would have been able to tamper with them,” Wilbur says.

Frost nods. “Just because I was the one who was kept in charge of guarding those objects doesn’t mean that they were in my line of sight the whole time. Anyone could have replaced them with fakes.”

The smirk returns to Wilbur’s face. “Thank you, Inspector. Now I have all I need to prove your guilt.”

“Prove my guilt?” Frost pales.

“For starters, how did you know that they were replaced with fakes?” Wilbur asks, holding up a finger.

“But you said it yourself,” Frost says, confusion clear on his features. “You said they were…”

“I did, but there was something particularly strange about how you reacted then,” Wilbur says. “Even Tommy could figure it out.”

Tommy stares, stunned at the duo. “What? Me? Um…

1. “He was shocked.”
2. “He became angry.”
3. “He had no particular reaction.”

“Exactly,” Wilbur says. “Before I brought the issue up, you should have believed that the artefacts you recovered were real. After all, you were the one who brought them back from the lion’s den. We’ve only recently found out that they are faked.”

“I…” Frost shrinks back against his chair, realization dawning on his face.

“Yet, you never once seemed surprised,” Wilbur says. “Why is that?”

Frost’s mouth is agape, frozen to the spot. It seems the cat has got his tongue, and Wilbur has gotten Frost right where he wants him.

“I can tell you,” Wilbur says, “if you’re not willing to talk. Namely, the reason for that is…

1. “You are the one who replaced it with fakes.”
2. “You recovered fakes.”
3. “Someone slipped the fakes from under your nose.”

“All logic, facts and observations point to it,” Wilbur says. “Your own confidence has betrayed you, Inspector Frost. In the worst way possible.”

“Wait, but why would Inspector Frost want to steal the artefacts?” Puffy asks. “I mean, they’re just artefacts…”

“We musn’t forget that they are of Azran origins,” Wilbur says. “That in and of itself is a clue as to the Inspector’s true identity.”

At this point, Inspector Frost is too stunned to speak, looking just like a deer caught in the headlights. Tommy furrows his brows.

“So the Inspector is…

1. “Innocent.”
2. “Part of Targent.”
3. “An imposter.”

“Really!” Puffy cries. “No way!”

“It is true,” Wilbur says. “The only organization that we know is after the Azran Legacy and has the ability to put someone in such high power in the police force is Targent.”

Inspector Frost smiles, shoulders slumping in defeat. He throws his hands in the air. “If you have deduced this much, then there is no point hiding anymore.”

“You admit it?” Puffy asks, still appearing incredibly surprised. “You’re part of Targent, Inspector?”

Frost’s grin is particularly chilling, the glint of his spectacles menacing in the light.

“You may have caught me, Professor, but you will never stop Targent.”

*

“Thanks for helping us catch the mole.”

It is one of the higher-ranked officers, Detective Inspector Eret, who sees them out.

“I’m glad to be of help,” Wilbur says. “I wish you luck in recovering the artefacts. The real ones this time.”

DI Eret nods and salutes them as the foursome exits the station, emerging back out into the crisp air of the London Streets.

“That was a hell of a detour,” Puffy says, pumping her fists into the air and stretching. “So, are we ready to head back to the Bostonius now?”

“Quite,” Wilbur says, “if Billiam and Phil have finished their repairs.”

“It’s been a week,” Tommy points out.

“And it was only the tinier airship that got kinda beat up,” Puffy says.

“Why?”

Tommy glances back at the voice. Ranboo stands outside the station, an almost-wistful gaze fixed on the emblem affixed above the entrance to Scotland Yard.

“Why did that man have to steal the artefacts?” Ranboo asks. “Why take something that’s not yours?”

“Because of many things,” Wilbur says. “Greed, pride, gluttony. Who knows why the Inspector did what he did? Perhaps the leader of Targent promised him something he could not refuse.”

Ranboo bites his lip, considering that answer seriously. A red bus turns the corner, trundling its way up to them. Puffy flags it down. The foursome board and find seats on the second floor of the double-decker.

They are headed for the Aerodome, and around the world they will go.

Chapter Text

“Everyone ready?”

Phil sits at the wheel as Wilbur and Billiam lean over the counter, scrutinizing a map. Tommy leans back against the couch, leg bouncing with unrestrained excitement. They are going on a trip, to discover every nook and cranny of the earth in search of the Azran eggs.

The Bostonius rises and Tommy’s stomach drops. He grips the edge of the couch tightly. Never will he get used to that feeling.

Ranboo is staring out of the window with Puffy by his side, utterly enamoured by the glorious sights the sky has to offer. A flock of birds swoops by them, weaving through clouds as they make for their destination.

“That whole patch there’s a forest, mate,” Phil says, glancing over at the map. “I should be able to find somewhere we can land. though…”

“There’s also a village there, if I’m not mistaken,” Wilbur says. “We can ask around.”

The airship continues sailing on, just like a boat through the sea of blue.

*

Tommy is greeted by the vast expanse of a forest before he even sees the smoke of houses in the distance, puffing out through brick chimneys. The airship descends slowly – Phil was lucky in finding a lengthy strip of grass where they may land.

The airship comes to a complete halt and the engines’ whirrs cut off abruptly. Phil turns in his seat.

“I’ll be waiting for you all back here,” Phil says, tipping his hat. “Take as long as you need.”

When Tommy steps out into the forest, the evening sun is already upon them. The gentle breeze caresses his face as he glances around at the lush greenery. Hopefully, they can return to the airship before night falls.

Billiam holds the map out in front of him. He narrows his eyes, tilting his head, before pointing at what appears to be a dense copse of trees.

“This way,” Billiam says, rolling up the map. He trudges along the path, brushing away curtains of ivy and vines with a single swipe. Wilbur, Tommy, Puffy and Ranboo follow after him, footsteps loud and crunchy on the blanket of leaves.

The aroma of cooking hits Tommy before he even sees it. Billiam shoves several large leaves apart and reveals the entrance to a village. A fountain stands in the middle, water streaming noisily. The houses are arranged in a circle around it, each of them a log cabin of similar design.

A cooking fire stands right by the fountain with a giant cauldron suspended over the flame. A woman squats by the fire, stoking the flames. She notices their approach and leaps to her feet.

“Who are you?” she cries in that incredibly high-pitched voice of hers. “Who the fuck are you?”

Wow. Rude much?

“I apologize for the sudden intrusion,” Wilbur says, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “We are from London. My name is Wilbur Soot and-”

“From London?” The woman asks, squinting at them, before turning around and screeches at the top of her lungs.

“City people! There are city people in the town!”

Tommy stiffens. What the hell is she doing? Do they have something against city people?

Before they can do anything, people flood from their houses, people dressed in ragged cloths simple in fashion. These must be the villagers who are, thankfully, not armed with pitchforks. They peer at the foreign group curiously, chattering behind their hands. Tommy glares at the woman. He does not like to be observed like some kind of zoo animal.

Wilbur clears his throat. “Excuse me, we’re-”

“Who in the blazes are you?” a man asks, tugging at his beard.

“They’re city people!” a boy shouts. “Maybe they can help Jimmy!”

Who in the world is Jimmy?

“We need to test them first, though.” This other man who speaks up has a deep voice, deeper than most. Everyone else hushes, completely silent as he turns to regard them with a suspicious gaze. Tommy gulps. This guy is scary.

“The name’s Catboy,” the man says, and Tommy clamps a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. He can see the barest hint on a smile on Wilbur’s face as well. “While there is something that we would like to request of you, you must first pass our test.”

“A test? What test?” Puffy asks.

“A simple one,” Catboy says. “You have to solve a puzzle to prove that you are trustworthy.”

Puzzles. Here. Out in a village in the middle of nowhere. Scratch that. How does solving a puzzle prove that they are trustworthy?

“We’d love to.” Wilbur nods. Catboy looks pleased.

<Puzzle: Fowl Food>

“You see here, I have a parrot with a terrible diet. It only eats one type of fruit a day: either apples or oranges. Each day, I place fruits into four coloured boxes according to this chart.”

Catboy retrieves a rolled-up parchment and hands it to Wilbur. Wilbur takes care not to crinkle it.

“My bird decides what kind of fruit to eat each day, and will eat every single piece of it, no matter what coloured box it’s in. So last week, I noticed that my parrot took fruit from the blue box five times, the red box four times, the yellow box five times and the green box three times. So which fruit did my bird eat each day?”

Wilbur inspects the chart. The villagers begin to buzz amongst themselves again, like annoying flies. Can’t a man think in peace?

Before Tommy can finish that thought, Wilbur has the answer with a snap of his fingers. He rolls the parchment back up and hands it back to Catboy, who smirks.

“Giving up?”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Wilbur says with a smile. “The bird eats apples on Monday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and eats oranges on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.”

Catboy stares. The rest of the village is stunned into silence. Tommy puffs his chest out. That’s his friend. His brainy, puzzle-loving friend.

“We’ve passed your test,” Wilbur says. “Now, do you believe that we are trustworthy now?”

Catboy turns to the others. They whisper and nod, and Catboy has no choice but to welcome them into the village.

“If I remember correctly, you needed our help, correct?” Billiam says.

Catboy sighs. “I should let Helga tell you about it. It concerns her husband, after all.”

Helga! That woman? They have to hear the story from Helga? Tommy gazes over to the woman in despair, the woman who seems to be happily stirring her weird stew.

“Oh yes!” Helga drops her ladle, hopping over to them with the swiftest of steps. “My husband is in a terrible state! Please, you must come immediately!”

“If we agree,” Wilbur states with a suffering sigh, “will you listen to our request?”

“Of course, of course!” Helga nods vigorously, hopping on the spot. “This way!”

She leads them over to a house deep in the winding forest, past a bluff and a crashing waterfall. Despite Tommy’s initial impressions, she is rather quick-footed, leading them over to a house ever so isolated from the rest of the village.

This house is grandest by far. Bigger as well. Helga pulls the door open and invites them in. The first thing that greets them is the long table in the middle of the hall, where a man seems to be trying to stab his fork into a slab of meat.

“Dear! I’m home!” Helga calls in that asinine voice of hers. The man looks up with the most fearsome glare. Tommy freezes, fighting the urge to hide behind Wilbur. Wilbur, and Billiam, is utterly unfazed.

“I…I sense something,” Ranboo says quietly. “It’s one of the Azran eggs.”

“You mean that one?” Puffy whispers, gesturing to something hanging around the man’s neck. Something strange and blue resting against his collarbone. Is that the egg?

The man drops his knife. “Who are these hooligans and what are they doing in my home?”

“They want to help,” Helga says, sidling up to the man. She pats his shoulders and turns to them. “This is Jimmy, my husband.”

Jimmy harrumphs. “There’s nothing to help with. I don’t know why you and everyone else keeps insisting that I need some sort of ‘help’.”

“If you could explain your, uh, predicament…” Billiam starts, but stops short when Jimmy shoots him a glare. Wilbur clears his throat and continues.

“The townspeople appear convinced that you are in need of some assistance,” Wilbur says. “We would like to extend our help to the best-”

“I said I don’t need help,” Jimmy huffs. He jabs a finger at the wall. “Get out of my house!”

“The door’s there, dear,” Helga says, correcting his arm. Jimmy splutters. Helga purses her lips and leaves her husband’s side, walking right over to them and ushering them out. The group gathers outside. Helga wrings her hands in distress.

“What’s his problem?” Puffy wonders irritably.

“He’s not usually this angry all the time,” Helga says. “It only started recently.”

“Recently, you say?” Wilbur says, hands tucked in his pockets. It is as if he already has suspicions that he is eager to confirm. Tommy does not understand how his brain can work so fast.

“Yes!” Helga says. “He used to be such a party animal. He loved his beer, he did. But now he’s nothing more than a sopping banana leaf!”

Tommy does not know what a “sopping” banana leaf is, but he can hazard a guess.

“Just a day ago, Dad fell and got himself covered in mud!”

A boyish voice pipes up from behind Helga, and the woman screams. Tommy stifles his own screech. Where the hell did that rascal come from? A child stands giggling, a hand cupping his mouth, hat perched precariously on his crown.

“Robin!” Helga huffs, smacking him upside the head. Robin cries out, rubbing the back of his head.

“It’s true!” Robin pouts. “Dad is such a klutz.”

Helga sighs.

“What is this about your father falling down?” Billiam asks.

“He tripped over some roots, just over there,” Robin says, gesturing to the forest path that they had taken. Tommy frowns. The roots sticking up from the ground are big and bulky enough that anyone could have seen and avoided it.

“I see,” Wilbur says with a nod. “I do think I know the solution to your predicament.”

“But we don’t even know what the problem is!” Helga cries.

“I’m going to need your help, though,” Wilbur says. “I need a pair of something long and thin, and a pair of something curved.”

“And we need something clear, like glass, right?” Puffy says.

How did she know that? Is there something Tommy is missing? He glances up at Ranboo. The boy sports his usual confused expression, so Tommy derives some comfort from that.

“We need something sticky too,” Billiam says. “Like some sort of glue.”

To glue everything up?

“Will bones do?” Helga asks. “For the, uh, long and thin and curved things.”

“Sounds good,” Wilbur says, nodding. “Make sure they’re of the same length and of the same curvature.”

“We can get the glue from Cornelius,” Robin says. He turns to Wilbur. “Cornelius keeps pet snails that piss sticky shit.”

“Excellent.”

“What about the glass?” Tommy asks. “How can we find something like that in this here forest?”

“There’s a cavern just past the winding log,” Robin points out, gesturing to another narrow path leading away from the village. “There are crystals…”

“Robin!” Helga cries.

Robin freezes, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. What’s happened? Robin shrinks back, gaze on the ground.

Helga clears her throat. “Well, now that Robin has said it…”

“Are we not supposed to know about it?” Puffy asks.

“Well, it’s…the treasure of the village,” Helga says, tone turning haughty. “Because there’s a magical power contained in that cavern, only the family of the village chief can enter.”

“Then why not we have you just…go in our place and pick out a crystal or something?” Billiam asks.

“Actually,” Wilbur says, holding out a hand, “is there any way we can see this cavern for ourselves?”

Helga narrows her eyes. “Well, I suppose…if you can solve this puzzle of mine, I might reconsider…”

“Please,” Wilbur says, rocking on the balls of his feet.

<Puzzle: A Trio of Trouble>

“One day, there are three triplets who have invited you for a spot of boating on the lake. The three of them are identical, so you thought you’d have no trouble finding them. There are two triplets who are clearly visible, but there’s just one you cannot see. He’s hiding on one of the boats, but which one?”

“The sixth one,” Wilbur says. “Easy.”

“What? But that was my most difficult puzzle!”

Even Tommy has to admit, that that did not pose much of a challenge.

“Does that mean we get to go into the cave now?” Ranboo asks.

“Have Robin take you,” Helga says. “I’ll go gather the other things you need.”

Robin perks up at that. He dashes along the path, waving at them. Without further deliberation, they follow Robin, weaving past the thick bushes and unique flowers. Eventually, after much running, they stand before a giant waterfall, the thunderous roar drowning out every other sound.

“The cavern’s just beyond there,” Robin yells, barely audible. “You gotta just run through it!”

Tommy scrunches his nose. Running through that thing would drench them.

“Is there any way to, um, stop the water?” Puffy asks. “We could slip and fall, you know?”

Robin shakes his head. “You gotta run through! It’s the only way!”

“Well,” Wilbur says, rolling his shoulders, “as much as I am a fan of being dry…”

Wilbur is the first one to sprint and leap, arms raised to brace himself against the water. Robin is next, with Billiam going right after.

“After you two,” Puffy says with a grin.

Jesus. Tommy stiffens, gaze drilling holes in the cascading water. He can do this. If Wilbur can, he can too.

Tommy and Ranboo run at the same time, the latter’s longer legs carrying him further and faster than Tommy’s can. Tommy throws himself through the water, flinching at the sudden stab of ice against his skin. He stumbles out on the other side, soaked to the bone.

“You alright, Tommy?” Billiam asks, a hand on his shoulder.

Tommy shivers. “I’m good.” He is not good. He is freezing his pants off. He hopes the Bostonius has a bathtub, because he is going to want to take a long dip later to wash the ice away.

“Where’s Wilbur?” Tommy asks.

“Already inside,” Billiam says. “The kid’s with him.”

“I can sense something here,” Ranboo says, glancing around in awe as they journey deeper into the cavern. As Tommy expected, the walls are covered with luminous moss.

“Is it the egg?” Puffy asks.

Ranboo shakes his head. “I’m not sensing the egg as strongly here as I did back at…back at the chief’s house.”

Eventually, the cavern opens into a large chamber, a chandelier of glimmering crystals hanging from the ceiling. Tommy gapes at the sheer magnificence of it all. Even the stalagmites and stalactites are glowing. The rocky walls are decorated with strange carvings and paintings – nothing that Tommy can quite understand, of course.

Wilbur and Robin are standing at one of the bigger stalagmites, peering curiously at the crystals. Robin reaches for one and snaps it easily, producing a crude cylindrical shape, though Wilbur seems satisfied with it.

“Are they Azran, these symbols?” Puffy asks.

Billiam nods.

Ranboo seems enamoured by the hieroglyphs, thumbing at his chin.

“‘Life may blossom in the strangest of places, even somewhere as unliveable as this forest,” Ranboo reads. “The persistence of life shall not be undermined.’”

Huh. It looks like Ranboo is useful for something after all.

“Are we done?” Wilbur asks.

“Yeah. What about you?” Puffy turns her attention from the glyphs.

“I have everything I need. Come on, let us return to the village.”

*

“Hey! There they are! The city people!”

Helga waves enthusiastically from the fountain, where the other townspeople are gathered. The crowd parts as they approach and for a second, Tommy feels like a king.

“These are all we have,” Helga says, placing a basket of bones of the ground, as well as a jar filled with a viscous, disgustingly green liquid that Tommy would never touch in a million years.

Wilbur kneels and inspects the bones. Puffy twists the cap of the jar which comes off much more easily than expected. Tommy pinches his nose. Forget the fish back at that town by the lake. This has got to be the worst stench that Tommy has ever had the displeasure of smelling.

“What are you going to do with all this?” Tommy asks.

“We’re going to help the chief with his problem,” Wilbur says. He turns to the crowd. “Is there anyone who is good with cutting here? Cutting bones?”

A hand shoots through the air and a man in black plods over. He thumps his chest. “Miles Memington. The best in the business. What do you need cut?”

“I’d like all the jagged edges gone…oh, and make sure that they are curved at the ends,” Wilbur says.

Miles receives the handpicked bones from Wilbur, whips out a knife and gets right to work. Wilbur turns to the crowd once more.

“Next up, I need someone who can polish well.”

Another man jostles his way through the crowd, standing before Wilbur and friends. “If there’s anything to do with polishing, I’m your guy.” He shakes Wilbur’s hand. “I’m Jack, by the way.”

“These…crystals,” Wilbur says, holding up the crystal that he and Robin had obtained from the cavern. “I need you to polish these crystals such that they are flat discs. Can you do that?”

“Of course.”

Finally, Wilbur holds up the jar of sticky fluid.

“Is there anyone who can handle this glue?”

“Cornelius can,” Robin says. “They’re from his snails, after all.” He waves to someone in the crowd, dressed in the brightest green that Tommy has ever seen. Cornelius steps over.

“What should I do?”

“I need you to work with both Miles and Jack,” Wilbur says, handing him the curved bones. “Once they’re done, I’d like you to follow my instructions and glue them together.”

Tommy stands by the side, his arms folded.

Just what does Wilbur intend to achieve?

*

Night has already fallen, with the moon and stars hanging high in the sky. The village chief’s house is as dreary as Tommy remembers, looking almost like a witch’s hut. Helga leads the way, pushing the door open and finding Jimmy sitting by the fireplace near the window.

“Oh, Jimmy!”

Why must Helga screech like that?

“What?” Jimmy turns his head in the direction of the noise. Helga bounds up to him, holding the fruit of their labour. Jimmy squints at the item forked over to him. “What is this?”

“Here,” Helga says. “The nice city people taught me how to put this on. Now hold still, dear.”

Jimmy looks incredibly grumpy as Helga slips the pair of makeshift glasses onto his face. It is rather well-made, Tommy thinks, considering what they had to work with.

Jimmy blinks. Silence settles over them. Tommy holds his breath.

No more than two seconds pass when Jimmy laughs. He stabs a finger at Billiam, laughter unrestrained as he pounds the armrest with a fist.

“I have never…” Jimmy gasps in between guffaws. “I have never seen anyone with such a long face!”

“It appears that our makeshift spectacles has provided the chief with a distorted view of the world,” Wilbur says with a drawn-out sigh. Helga and Robin, on the other hand, appear extremely pleased with the result.

“He’s all jolly again!” Helga cries. “That’s all that really matters!” She turns to the group. “How may we ever thank you?”

“Well, I’d like to ask if you’d mind parting with that egg around his neck,” Wilbur says, pointing out the adornment that Jimmy wears.

“Of course! Of course! It’s yours!” Jimmy undoes the clasp around his necklace and hands it to Wilbur. It fits snugly into his palm, a cool stone in the shape of an egg. A glum face is carved on it, a jewel of pink shimmering beneath its chin. Ranboo reaches for it.

“Is this one of the eggs, Ranboo?” Puffy asks.

“Yeah,” Ranboo says, nodding. “It is. I can sense the power of the Azran.”

“Really?” Robin says, sidling up to him. “Has this egg has got magic in it?”

Ranboo shrugs, edging away from the boy. “Well…yes.”

“Alright, boys,” Tommy says with a clap of his hand. “We’ve got the first egg! Let’s go back and get some sleep! Man’s tired!”

With that, the group of five leave the village of Salem behind, following the jungle route in the shadows of the night to where the Bostonius is still parked. Phil appears to be engaged with some jigsaw puzzle when they return, leaning back against the pilot’s seat.

“Hey,” Phil says, waving to welcome them back. “I take it you’ve got it?”

“Yeah,” Billiam says with a nod. “We’re going to stay the night here, Phil. We’ll start moving first thing tomorrow.”

“I can get the old girl started,” Phil says, tapping the dashboard. “You guys can sleep to the whistle of her engine.”

“You need sleep too, Phil,” Puffy says. “What if you fall asleep halfway and we crash?”

“Puffy, there are just some things you can’t say!” Tommy cries.

“Well, I suppose…” Phil mumbles, scratching his chin. He gestures at the back of the Bostonius. “The guest rooms are there, but I think we’re short of one.”

“Didn’t expect Ranboo to tag along,” Billiam says with a shrug.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Wilbur says, already settled on the long, cushy bench. It looks comfortable, apart from the fact that his head is propped up by the armrest.

“I’ll get you some pillows and blankets, mate,” Phil says. “The rest of you, there’s a bathroom at the end of the cabins. You can’t miss it, but we only have one, so you have to wait your turns.”

“A bathroom?” Ranboo tilts his head. Tommy gapes. Do the Azrans not have bathrooms? The most advanced civilization, Tommy thinks, does not have bathrooms.

With Ranboo’s confused expression and Puffy’s somewhat-evil one, Tommy knows that tonight is going to be a long, long night.

Chapter Text

Tommy steps out of the Bostonius, onto a field of grass. He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with the salty tang of the sea. According to the markings on their map, the next Azran egg should be around here somewhere…

However, the only settlement that in sight is a tiny fishing village by the edge of the sea, houses raised on stilts. Several fishing boats rock with the gentle waves. Fishermen are already up and about, casting their rods and nets into the water.

“There’s…the Azran egg is here,” Ranboo says, furrowing his brows. “And an Azran settlement as well.”

“An Azran settlement?” Billiam wonders.

“Maybe it’s in the sea,” Tommy says. “Like Atlanta or something.”

“Atlanta is in the state of Georgia in the U.S.,” Wilbur corrects. “I believe you’re thinking about Atlantis.”

Oh.

“Do you think the egg would be in this Azran settlement, though?” Puffy asks. She turns to Ranboo with an inquiring gaze.

Ranboo nods. “Their pulses are coming from the same direction, if that’s what you’re asking.”

So they are going to have to seek out this settlement after all. That will be really cool. He would have something to post on his Instagram.

“Let’s not be hasty, alright,” Billiam says. “We should ask around first. See if anyone here knows anything.”

More legwork, more talking. They have got this in the bag!

*

“Yeah, there’s this…weird sunken city in the middle of the waters. No one’s been down there ever. People say it’s cursed.”

Tommy folds his arms. The fisherman, Benjamin, casts his rod back into the water. He sounds like a right coward, if Tommy is being honest.

“Cursed?” Wilbur asks. This must be the Azran settlement that Ranboo mentioned. If so, then there is a high chance that the egg would be there. “Why do you say that?”

“Ghosts in there, innit?” Benjamin says. “No one in their right mind would want to risk their life in that kind of place.”

“Can you take us there?” Puffy asks.

Benjamin’s head snaps up so quickly that Tommy fears he would break his neck. He glares at Puffy with the most scathing expression.

“Are you insane? Didn’t you just hear what I said?”

“Well, we have a good reason,” Wilbur says, tucking his hands into his coat pockets. “You don’t need to go in. Just ferry us to the waters above the city.”

Benjamin sighs loudly. He seems to consider his options as he stares at the ground, quivering fishing rod forgotten. When he looks up, there is a sparkle in his eye that Tommy does not like.

“I could do it,” Benjamin says slowly, “for just a small fee…”

*

Tommy stands on the deck of the tiny fishing boat, arms outstretched and meeting the morning breeze with his entire body. Gulls caw overhead and dolphins whistle. Ah, nothing like a trip out to the ocean.

Very soon, they approach a floating platform. No, not a floating platform. A platform that sits on the surface of the water, supported by a pillar that extends deep underwater.

“You can’t see it from here,” Benjamin says, “but the Lost City lies just beneath that elevator over there.”

“An elevator?” Puffy asks.

“Yeah,” Benjamin says. “Methinks you take the elevator to, you know, go to the city.”

The boat approaches the platform. The water is calm enough that the group can disembark safely. The platform stands sturdy. The only thing of interest is the mentioned elevator, its elaborate design a trademark of the Azrans.

“I’ll be waiting up here,” Benjamin says, already readying his fishing net. “But I’m not staying the whole day, you hear? If you’re not back by evening, I’m getting the hell out of here.”

“Of course,” Wilbur says with a nod. He turns to the rest of the group. “Come on, let us make haste.”

The elevator is spacious, with space to fit all five of them. Tommy glances over at the elevator buttons, only to realize that a puzzle locks it away. Who put that there?

<Puzzle: Lovely Pairs>

Ladies A to D are on a two-day holiday with gentlemen E to H. Each day, they visit a different tourist spot in male-female pairs.

On the first day, A and E explore the jungle, B and F go to the prairie, C and G visit the seaside and D and H enjoy the canyon. The next day, everyone chooses a different location with a different partner. B and E go to the seaside together, and C sets off to the canyon with someone.

Where does G go, and with whom?

Wilbur keys the answer in and the lock clicks open. There is only one available button, one that shuts the door when pressed. The car descends, deeper and deeper into the water. The light in the elevator is dim, cast from Azran symbols from the ceiling.

“I wonder how it withstands the pressure,” Billiam mutters, glancing about at the walls of their tiny box prison.

Eventually, after what feels like an eternity, the elevator jerks to a halt. Tommy almost loses his balance, clinging to Ranboo’s arm to steady himself. He watches with bated breath as the door opens, revealing an empty lobby.

“The Azran’s power is stronger here,” Ranboo notes as they step out into the lobby.

The ceiling is made of glass – tempered glass, perhaps – which grants them an amazing view of the ocean and its wonderful marine life. Wilbur’s footsteps clack against the tiled floor, boldly walking out into the so-called Lost City.

Just then, a black shape appears at the other end of the lobby, and Tommy stifles a shriek. The figure is almost entirely black, save for a strip of white splashed diagonally across his face. One of his eyes is purple, and the other yellow. If anything, he looks almost just like Ranboo.

“Are you a friend or a foe?” Billiam asks warily.

“My name is Ranbob,” the Ranboo-lookalike says with a polite bow. “Welcome to the City of Mizu.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ranbob,” Wilbur says with a nod of acknowledgement. “Do you live here?”

Ranbob nods, eyes trained on Ranboo. “I am Mizu’s sole caretaker. I ensure that this place is as clean and polished as it can be.”

“Are you an Azran too?” Tommy asks.

Ranbob shakes his head. “I am merely a golem. The Azran people are my masters. I have been tasked with the upkeep of the city.”

“In that case, might I ask if you have seen one of the Azran eggs around?” Wilbur says. “It is of an elliptical shape, something about the size of my palm.”

“I see,” Ranbob says with a nod. “You have come seeking the aura stone.”

“So you…” Tommy starts, but Ranbob interrupts him.

“While my main task is to maintain the city, I have also been ordered to administer a series of tests to persons who intend to claim the stone.”

“Then shall we proceed with these series of tests?” Wilbur says. “I hate to say it, but we are running on a tight schedule today.”

“I must warn you that the tests are not for the faint of heart,” Ranbob says. “Even with this information, do you still wish to take the test?”

There is no other answer.

“Let us begin then,” Ranbob says with another bow. “Follow me.”

The City of Mizu is massive. Corridors take them from building to building, each of them anything but decrepit. Ranbob has done a good job.

The first room that Ranbob takes them to is longer than it is wide, with a giant chest sitting at the other end of it. Is that it? Is that the test? Rather lame, if you ask Tommy.

“Please solve the puzzle contained within that chest,” Ranbob says. “This is the first test.”

“Do we just walk up to it and-” Tommy starts, but Billiam holds out a hand.

“There’re traps,” Billiam says, gesturing at the numerous holes in the walls. “Poison darts, arrows…who knows what the Azran’s got going in here.”

Ranbob says nothing.

“You sure you’ll be alright?” Wilbur asks.

Billiam nods, treading carefully along the path. Tommy watches with a certain sort of tension. The room is silent. No arrows, no traps, nothing. Perhaps Billiam is just paranoid…

“I would advise you to stand back,” Ranbob says, already taking the necessary steps.

What is that supposed to mean?

Tommy finds out soon enough. Sooner than he would have liked. As soon as Billiam makes it to the halfway mark, the ceiling begins to rumble, and arrows rain from the sides.

The rain is not torrential, giving Billiam the leeway to duck and run. At the same time the ceiling begins to descend upon them, spikes protruding from its surface. Tommy gapes. This is a death trap.

Billiam makes it to the end safely, throwing the chest open, glaring at the puzzle within.

<Puzzle: Be My Guest>

Taking a look at a hotel’s guest book, you see that 13 guests checked in. 25 guests stayed there that night. On the 27^th, 19^th guests checked out and 11 checked in. On the 26^th, 12 guests checked out and 18 checked in. Finally, on the 25^th, 15 guests checked out and 14 checked in.

How many guests were staying at the hotel on the night of the 24^th?

Billiam gets the answer in an instant, inputting the number into the chest. The ceiling groans and creaks as it steadily lowers above Billiam’s head. Billiam makes his way back, footsteps hurried and thunderous against the floor.

The ceiling is going much too fast, and the arrows bursting from the walls are not helping! Tommy holds his hands over his eyes, unable to watch.

With one final leap, Billiam makes it, throwing himself just out of the jaws of death as it comes crashing down behind him.

Ranbob nods, as if that had not been that big a deal at all. He turns and exits the room with a quiet “Follow me.” Puffy moves to help Billiam up.

“That was dangerous!” Tommy cries, tugging at Wilbur’s sleeve as his friend moves to chase after Ranbob.

“Billiam went in with full knowledge of the threats,” Wilbur says. “Don’t worry, Tommy. I would never ask you to put yourself in mortal danger like that.”

“What about Ranboo or Puffy?”

“I would never ask them to put themselves in any danger as well.”

“What about you?”

Wilbur says nothing. Tommy drops the topic as well, as soon as they reach the next room. This one contains a stunning tree, its bark completely white.

“The next puzzle lies at the very top of this tree,” Ranbob says, making a sweeping gesture at it. “Your task is to search for it and answer it correctly.”

Wilbur makes to shrug off his coat, but Puffy steps forward, exuding determination. Wilbur opens his mouth to speak, but Puffy beats him to it.

“Let me, Wilbur,” Puffy says. “I promise to be careful, if that reassures you.”

“It doesn’t in the slightest.”

“Well, at least I tried,” Puffy says with a grin. Before anyone can stop her, she takes off, scaling the tree with utmost grace. She scrabbles for branch after branch, the ancient tree sturdy enough to take her weight.

She reaches the top in record time and waves at them, holding up the chest in triumph. She proceeds to make herself comfortable on one of the branches, flipping open the lid to the chest.

<Puzzle: A Knightly Trial>

In a land faraway, there lives a king who requires all his to-be knights to undergo a series of gruelling tests, one of which involves counting the number of squares there are on the national flag.

Now it is time for you to undertake this task! Prove yourself worthy by working out how many squares there are on the national flag!

As soon as Puffy inputs the right answer, the chest dings.

Immediately, the tree bursts into flames.

Tommy is thrown back by the blast, shrieking as the fire begins to spread. Ranbob stands by the side, unmoving, watching the event unfold with an eerie calmness. Tommy spots Puffy, standing in the same spot, jaw agape.

Wilbur’s coat pools at the ground as he dashes towards the tree with Billiam right on his tail. Ranboo can only stand and stare in horror, frozen, probably in fear, just like Tommy.

“Jump!” Wilbur shouts. “We’ll catch you!”

“Are you sure?” Puffy glances at the fire, pinching her nose as the smoke billows by her face. The fire spreads quickly from the base of the tree, claiming the leaves and twigs and trunk as it goes.

“Ditch the chest and jump!” Billiam repeats.

“If you say so!” Puffy dumps the chest into the flames and launches herself from the tree in a death-defying leap. It is as if time slows, Puffy suspended in mid-air for just a second before plunging to the ground.

Her landing is hardly as gracious as her climb. She crashes straight into Wilbur, sending the both of them sprawling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Billiam and the others, minus Ranbob, rush over to help them up. Wilbur splutters, coughing as he grasps his middle.

“Sorry about that,” Puffy says, scrambling off him and dusting at her clothes. Wilbur takes Ranboo’s hand, still holding his stomach. “Are you okay?”

“I did offer to catch you,” Wilbur wheezes. If not for the shock of…of whatever just happened, Tommy would be laughing his lungs out.

“Impressive,” Ranbob says, clapping. “Now, we shall move on to the final test.”

The final test. First, they had a ceiling that tried to make shish kebabs out of Billiam, then they had a tree that spontaneously burst into flames…what else could the Azran throw at them?

“This way, please,” Ranbob says, already striding off down another corridor. Tommy exchanges a glance with Ranboo. They have already made it this far. They are extremely close now. Tommy can feel it.

The next room lies the furthest from the elevator, at the end of the winding hallway. Tommy gapes, blinded by the sheer crimson of the viscous rock bubbling and sloshing in a pool. Above it floats several platforms, each glowing with blue symbols.

“This is…” Billiam sounds amazed.

“The final test,” Ranbob says with a bow. “The same condition applies: you must make your way to the very top and solve the puzzle contained within.”

Something soft lands against Tommy’s side, and Tommy scrambles to gather it up in his arms. It is Wilbur’s coat.

“I can’t let you guys have all the fun,” Wilbur says, stepping forward. “It’s my turn.”

Tommy wishes he can look just that cool one day.

“I can see so many ways this can go wrong,” Puffy mumbles, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. Tommy can too, but this guy is Wilbur. He always has a way out. A sly last move.

The journey up was uneventful. The platforms are sturdy, taking Wilbur’s weight easily as he jumps from floating stone to floating stone. Eventually, he reaches the chest placed at the very top of the elaborate maze, eager to meet the challenge that lies within.

<Puzzle: Counting Sheep>

A farmer has a flock of around 400 sheep. Keen to find out the exact number, he started counting. He counted them in batches, hoping to save time, but lost track at the end anyway. All he remembers is that when he counted them there at a time, he had one left over. When he counted them four at a time, he had two left over. When he counted them five at a time, he had four left over. And when he counted them seven at a time, he had two left over.

How many sheep does he have?

Tommy holds his breath as soon as Wilbur inputs the answer and slams the lid of the chest shut. The place begins to shake. Rocks begin to crumble, and so do the platforms.

Below Wilbur is nothing but molten rock, hot enough to burn him alive in a fraction of a second. Tommy can hardly watch, hugging his friend’s coat to his chest as Wilbur steadily makes his way down. The platforms collapse faster and faster, crumbling into nothing, clouds of debris and dust falling into the lava below.

Wilbur’s foot leaves the final platform, throwing himself over the pit of lava. He soars through the air, shadowed by the backdrop of lava behind him. Wilbur crashing hard on his shoulder, wincing. Tommy dashes over, Wilbur’s coat flapping in his arms.

“Wilbur! Are you alright?”

Wilbur rises, forcing the coughs out of his mouth as he staggers to his feet. He holds out a hand, and Tommy thrusts the coat back to him. None of the platforms remained, all of them having sunk to the bottom of the scorching pool.

“Well, that’s that,” Billiam says, turning to Ranbob. “Where’s the egg, Ranbob?”

Ranbob smirks. Tommy does not like the look of that.

“Right here,” Ranbob says, retrieving something from his pocket. Tommy recognizes that item. That is the egg that they are searching for! Puffy reaches for it, but Ranbob snatches it away, holding it just out of her reach.

“I cannot let you have it,” Ranbob says with a sigh. “I thought the trials would have done you in, but alas, you prove peskier than I would have liked.”

“Ranbob?” Tommy begins, gasping when Wilbur thrusts an arm out in front of him.

“Billiam,” Wilbur says.

Billiam nods in understanding. Tommy glances from one to the other. They are acting awfully like twins here, with their telepathic powers now.

Ranbob’s arm transforms before their very eyes, from a harmless hand to a rapier glinting in the light of the lava.

“Take it from me if you can.”

Ranbob moves, and boy is Ranbob fast.

Wilbur barely has time to dodge the first strike, throwing his head back to avoid the slash at his neck. Billiam scurries behind Ranbob, drawing a knife, hilt decorated with ornamental jewels.

Ranbob jumps back and stabs his sword into the ground, the entire room glowing a bright blue. The city rumbles, walls shaking worryingly. The glass begins to crack and snap beneath the water, trickles and streams evolving quickly to gushes.

“Puffy! Take Tommy and Ranboo and go!” Wilbur shouts, voice barely audible over the roar of the water.

The city is collapsing. Water floods the room from above, from the walls. Puffy grabs Tommy’s wrist and drags him away from Wilbur and Billiam. They are still doing battle with Ranbob, despite the fact that the glass is about to shatter any second now.

“We have to wait for them!” Tommy screams, trying to wrench his arm from Puffy’s grasp. The woman is strong, he realizes. “Please!”

“There’s nothing we can do, Tommy. We have to get o-” Puffy says, sudden shriek interrupted when the wall beside them breaks. Tommy is met with water to the face. He yanks his head from the splash, coughing and trying to get the salt out of his mouth.

Tommy stares at the room ahead. It is already half-filled with water, kept at bay by the glass doors. At this rate, even the elevator…

“Are we…?” Tommy starts, a tremble in his voice as his knees go jelly-like. Neither Puffy nor Ranboo say anything. There is nothing to say, after all. Ranbob has got all of them cornered.

Tommy is starting to hate the Azran. Really. Except Ranboo, because Ranboo has yet to do anything particularly…threatening. Speaking of the boy, he appears to be luminescent. Disturbingly so.

A string of words leaves his mouth, a series of chants reminiscent of when he stood in that strange dome back at that lakeside town. What in the world is he doing?

Ranboo’s eyes are flashing, almost like that of a robot’s. Red, green, and red again. With every flash, the walls begin to mend themselves. The ground flanking the main path opens up, draining the water back into the depths of the earth.

What sorcery is this?

The moment Ranboo finishes performing his magic is the moment he topples like a rag doll. Puffy catches him, scooping his lanky body up into her arms.

“Tommy!”

Tommy spins on his heels, finding Wilbur and Billiam running up to them. Ranbob is nowhere to be seen. Have they taken the egg from him?

“Run! The elevator!” Billiam cries.

Puffy and Tommy waste no time. Already, the walls are creaking once more against the weight of the water. Tommy slams his palm against the button by the elevator, the doors clanking open. Puffy enters first, with Wilbur and Billiam following right after.

Tommy slips into the elevator and Billiam repeatedly smashes the close button. Tommy glances back out the elevator, terror seizing him once more when he realizes that Ranbob is still alive, stalking towards them with the aura of a killer.

Then, the doors slam shut, and the elevator ascends.

The group breathes a collective sigh of relief. Tommy has never imagined that one of their adventures would be quite this intense.

“The egg?” Puffy asks.

“Right here,” Billiam says, pinching the artefact between his fingers. It gleams in the light of the elevator, looking no less ancient than its brethren.

When the doors open, the group steps out onto the platform. The familiar smell of the fishes and the saline waves has never been more relieving. The sun is high in the sky, casting its brilliant rays upon the earth.

“Hey, you’re back!”

Tommy spots Benjamin and his boat, a sight for sore eyes. He pulls his net over the edge, then moves the boat such that they can easily cross over. Tommy’s foot taps against the wooden deck, the sound ever so welcoming. Once Puffy gets on, Benjamin starts the motor of the boat, taking them far, far away from the Lost City of Mizu.

They have claimed yet another Azran egg, and that is all that matters.

*

“This is actually good,” Billiam says, munching on his fried squid. Wilbur wipes his mouth of breadcrumbs, hovering over the map. There are two crosses now. Three more to go.

“Where to now?” Tommy asks. This time, instead of slacking off, he chose to join Wilbur and Billiam at the dashboard. Phil starts the Bostonius up, the engine whirring incessantly.

“The desert,” Wilbur says. “There’s a small town there. Let’s go and see if anyone knows anything.”

With that, the Bostonius lifts off once more, taking to the skies. This time, they are headed to the sandy wastelands in the west.

Chapter Text

“Will Ranboo be fine?” Tommy asks.

“Phil’s there,” Billiam says. “He’s good at taking care of people.”

Tommy steps out of the Bostonius and into the setting of a cowboy movie. The desert is nothing but sand for as far as the eye can see. Cacti dot the land and tumbleweed whisk past.

“The town’s over there,” Wilbur says, gesturing to a small settlement in the distance. “Let’s check it out.”

The first thing Tommy notices about the town when they approach is that it is completely deserted. Not a soul to be found. However, the presence of saddled horses suggests that it is not abandoned.

“There’s nobody,” Puffy observes. “Do you think…”

“We should try the saloon,” Wilbur says. “People are usually gathered in pubs.”

The saloon lies a distance from the entrance to the town. The wooden doors flap on their hinges, permitting them easy access to the empty building.

The only person present is the bartender with his back to them, a gangly thing polishing a plate. Billiam clears his throat, and the man jolts. He spins, fear crossing his features for an instant.

“We-Welcome!” the man cries with an uncertain smile. “What would you like?”

“Um…We’re not here to eat anything, sorry,” Puffy says.

“We’d like to ask if you have chanced upon something made of stone that looks remotely like an egg,” Wilbur says. He fishes one of the eggs from his pocket and holds it out to the bartender.

The bartender squints at it, before realization dawns on his face. “Oh! I have! The leader wears it around his neck all the time.”

“The leader?” Tommy and Puffy exchange glances.

“Oh…” The bartender trails off. “Well, there’s been a few bandits plundering these lands recently…um, not really plundering, though…Anyway, their leader holds the egg.”

“Do we have to deal with these bandits, then, Wilbur?” Tommy asks.

“Sounds like it,” Wilbur says. “As much as I would like to ask nicely, I doubt that, as bandits, they would be willing to listen.”

“Then what are we going to do?”

“Well, I heard they’re looking for something, actually,” the bartender says with a shrug. “But no one knows what it is.”

“We might be able to negotiate with them, then,” Billiam says.

“Have they ever mentioned any clues about what they want?” Puffy asks.

The bartender shakes his head. “Well, it was something which has a value that cannot be matched, apparently.”

That is a tough one. It could be anything. Monetary value? Or something close to the bandits’ heart?

“Do you have an idea as to what it could be?”

“Well…not really,” the bartender says. “They never really made anything clear. Never really raided anyone’s house either.”

Never raided anyone’s house? That is strange. If they are terrorizing the town looking for this prized possession of theirs, Tommy would not put ravaging abodes above them.

“Are the bandits coming around anytime soon?” Wilbur asks.

“Um, yeah,” the bartender says. “Once a week, so…Today…”

As if on cue, the doors of the saloon swing open, revealing three men standing by the entrance. The bartender squeaks, ducking under the counter. Their leader’s eyes sweep the sorry, empty saloon, a pistol in hand.

“This saloon’s seen better days,” the leader of the bandits says, striding over to the group before the counter. Tommy edges behind Puffy. He does not like the shine of those guns, not when they are in someone else’s hands. He peers over at the leader, somehow intimidating even though he stands several heads shorter than Wilbur and Billiam.

“Who’re you?” the leader says, seemingly unfazed by their height difference as they approach Wilbur. “You don’t look like you’re from around these parts.”

“How observant of you,” Wilbur says with a clearing of the throat. “You look like you’re searching for something.”

“Hell yeah, I am,” the leader of the bandits says. He shambles back towards a chair, kicking back with his legs against the table. His two companions join him. “Who told you that, huh? John John?”

Who the heck is John John?

“A little bird,” Wilbur says with a dismissive wave.

“It’s got to be John John,” one of the bandits whispers. Loud enough for them to hear. The leader bats him away.

“Look, that doesn’t matter,” the leader says. “Unless you’ve got what I want, you’d better skedaddle the fuck out of here, you hear me?”

“You want something of equal value as the egg slung around your neck, don’t you?” Wilbur says.

“Equal value? What I’m looking for is something much more valuable than this here piece of rock,” the bandit says.

“You wouldn’t mind giving it to us, then?” Puffy asks.

“There are no such thing as free lunches in the world, I’ll have you know,” the leader says. “If you want it, you’re gonna have to trade me something for it. Something I want.”

“I see,” Wilbur says with a nod. “May I ask what your name is?”

“Huh?” the leader leans forward. “Why’d you want that for?”

“I’m sure it will help me in my search for whatever you’re looking for,” Wilbur says. Tommy gapes at him. Does Wilbur already know what the bandit wants? How?

“I guarantee you that I can find what you are looking for by the time the sun sets,” Wilbur says. “I just need your name.”

The leader purses his lips. “Looks like I don’t got a choice now, do I?” He sighs. “Never told anyone in this town before. The name’s Jack Kanof.”

“Jack Kanof.” Wilbur nods. “One more question. Did someone give you that egg that you wear around your neck?”

Jack glances down at the accessory, fingers closing around it rather subconsciously. “Yeah. I got it a long time ago. What of it?”

Wilbur shakes his head. “We will return to this here saloon by sundown, Mr Kanof. Mark my words.”

“You’d better not be lyin’, mate,” Jack says. His gun clicks, barrel aimed straight at Tommy. Tommy swallows the lump in his throat. Never before has his life been threatened twice in a day. “Or you know what will happen to the young one.”

“Of course,” Wilbur says with a smirk. With that, he disappears out the saloon, with the rest of the flabbergasted crew following right behind him.

“You know what he wants?” Tommy asks. “But…how?”

“It’s not a matter of what he wants,” Wilbur says. “It’s a matter of who.”

“Who?”

“We know that what Jack Kanof wants is more priceless than the egg he carries, which, honestly, does not help our case at all,” Wilbur says, holding up a finger. “He wears the egg around his neck. Perhaps as an accessory, but from the way he held it, it looked more like memorabilia.”

“So we need to find something of equal sentimental value?” Puffy asks.

“Not quite,” Wilbur says. “Recall what the bartender told us. The bandits never raided anyone’s house. They didn’t have to, because what the bandit leader wants is not an inanimate object, but a person.”

“How are we supposed to find this person, then?” Tommy asks. The task is beginning to sound more and more impossible by the minute.

“We aren’t,” Wilbur says with a smile. “Think about it for a moment, Tommy. This person that Jack is looking for must be rather important to him. Moreover, they gave him that egg. They must have been on good terms. On that note, would they not greet him when he arrived in town?”

“What does that mean?” Tommy asks, still confused.

Wilbur sighs.

“That means that the person that Jack is searching for is no longer around,” Billiam says. “Not in this town, at least. Could have died. We don’t know yet.”

“Then why did we ask for his name?” Puffy asks.

“Someone in town might know this bandit by name, but not by face,” Wilbur says. “This person that Jack is searching for may have mentioned him by name, but never told anyone what he looked like. Jack told us himself: he never informed anyone of his name until now.”

Tommy gapes at him. Trust Wilbur to have worked all that out in an instant.

“Now, shall we go? We don’t have much time till sundown,” Wilbur says.

*

“Huh? Jack Kanof? Never heard of the guy.”

The Sheriff sits behind his desk, legs kicked up on the table. He sizes them up, beady eyes hidden behind mounds of fat. “If you’re looking for someone, you’re better off asking Michael. That man is a big fan of gossip. He’d know a thing or two.”

“Thank you for your time,” Wilbur says with a nod. “Now we’ll just-”

“Hey, if you really want to thank me,” the Sheriff says, “maybe you can help me solve this puzzle from one of them prisoners. I’m one week from retirement and I really don’t want to bring any baggage with me.”

<Puzzle: Cards on the Table>

Four cards sit in a row on the table. The same four cards have been lined up in different ways. Some of them face up, and face down, in the following formations (where face-down refers to the card’s back being shown, with no suit)

1: Spade, heart, face-down, diamond
2: Face-down, club, face-down, heart
3: Joker, face-down, club, spade.

Once more, the cards are rearranged into the following formation: Face-down, face-down, club, face-down. By turning over one of these cards, you can produce a diamond. Which one is it?        

“The card with the club,” Wilbur says with noncommittal shrug, as if that puzzle did not even deserve his attention.

The Sheriff hums, suspicious of the answer, but nods in understanding when Wilbur explains the trick behind the puzzle.

“Well, you’d best be on your way,” the Sheriff says. “You’ll find Michael at the post office.”

The post office is not too far from the office. It is as dry and warm inside as it is on the outside, though. Also, Tommy swears he hears the distinctive cluck of a chicken.

The man behind the counter sports a beard, ginger hair matted to his forehead from the perspiration. Sheets of postage stamps lie scattered, alongside colourful envelopes. The man, presumably Michael, looks up when they arrive.

“Welcome!” Michael cries cheerily as he scribbles something upon a piece of paper. “How can I help you?”

“We heard you’re pretty knowledgeable about the, ah, citizens of this humble town,” Wilbur says. “Would you happen to have heard the name Jack Kanof before?”

“Kanof? Yeah, I did,” Michael says. “What about it?”

Tommy grins. They have struck gold.

“I was just wondering whether you have seen him before,” Wilbur says. “It is imperative that we find him immediately. Perhaps, even a description would do.”

Michael’s eyes gleam. “Well, information doesn’t come cheap, my friend. If you want info, you’re going to have to help me solve this puzzle first.”

<Puzzle: The Future Awaits!>

Each floor of a twenty-five floor building can be accessed with an elevator. If the elevator takes 15 seconds to go from the first floor to the fifth floor, how many seconds would it take for someone to go from the first floor to the twenty-fifth?

“Ninety,” Wilbur says. “A minute and a half.”

Michael nods and leans back against his chair, creaking beneath his weight. “Wow, you’re good at this, but you’re out of luck. I don’t know what he looks like. Just that he gives off a really bad-boy kinda vibe, you know. That’s what Percy told me anyway.”

“Percy?”

“Oh, uh…” Michael looks somewhat uncomfortable.

“Is there any chance we could meet this Percy fellow?” Puffy asks.

“He’s…” Michael scrunches his nose up. “Percy left a long time ago. He said that there was someone he was looking for, and just upped and left.”

“So Percy no longer resides in this town?”

“No.”

“Thank you very much,” Wilbur says with a nod. “The information you provided has been incredibly helpful.”

“Don’t mention it.”

With their answer in hand, the group decides to head back to the saloon. It is time to deliver the news to Jack. Be it good or bad, only time will tell.

*

The bandits are gathered around a table, playing cards, when Wilbur and company return. Jack leaps from his seat, eager to hear the results of their search. Tommy is acutely aware of the pistol in hand.

“So? What’ve you got?”

“I have…bad news,” Wilbur says. “It appears that Percy is no longer in this town.”

Jack goes slack-jawed, the pistol almost slipping from his fingers. His companions exchange confused gazes.

“W-What do you mean?” Jack stutters. It seems unlike Jack to ever be this flustered. “How’d you…?”

“From what we have gathered, Percy set out on a journey to look for someone,” Wilbur says. “I’m quite certain we both know what that means.”

Jack drops his gaze, shoulders shaking with a suppressed laugh.

“Well, I suppose it’s time for us to go, boys,” Jack says, turning back to his team of bandits. “I don’t think we’ll have a reason to come back here anymore.”

Jack gingerly removes the egg from around his neck, placing it gently in Wilbur’s palm.

“I think you need this more than me now,” Jack says. “So here. It’s yours.”

Who knew such a soft expression could grace the bandit’s features? They leave with nary another word exchanged. Well, at least Wilbur has got what they came here for.

The egg rests in Wilbur’s palm. He slips it into his coat pocket, along with the other two eggs. That’s three down, two more to go.

“I…I can’t thank you enough. Really.”

Tommy whirls at the sound, narrowing his eyes when he sees John behind the counter, head bowed. This guy is more useless than Tommy thought he would be.

“It’s nothing,” Wilbur says. “I’m just wondering why the Sheriff never did anything.”

“I can’t really blame him, honestly,” John says, wringing his hands. “He’s one week from retirement, after all. And it’s not like the bandits are causing bodily harm or stealing anything. They usually just disturb the peace.”

So John had literally blown the whole thing out of proportion. Tommy sighs. Figures.

“Anyway, shall we head back?” Wilbur says, glancing out the saloon windows at the orangey hue of the sun’s evening glow. “We can have a good night’s rest and set off early tomorrow morning for our next destination. We should go back and check on Ranboo too.”

Tommy yawns. He never did notice how exhausted he was. That bubble bath is sounding incredibly inviting at the moment. He would have to fight tooth and nail with Puffy for that, though.

With unanimous agreement, the group makes their way back to the Bostonius, the swell of its red body blending in almost perfectly with the golden dunes.

Chapter Text

“Where are we going next?” Ranboo asks, playing with a fraying thread on his sleeve.

“Blockbeard’s Shore,” Wilbur says, swivelling around in his chair, a book in hand. “Quite what I expected, actually, considering that many ships tend to find themselves beached there.”

“Including Blockbeard?” Tommy asks. He has heard the stories. The infamous pirate Blockbeard whose treasure has yet to be found till this day.

Realization dawns on Tommy.

Puffy beats him to it. “Wait, are we looking for Blockbeard’s Treasure?”

Wilbur shrugs. “Perhaps.”

The Bostonius descends, dipping beneath the clouds. Peering out the window, Tommy can see a beach below them getting larger and larger. They are approaching an archipelago, a collection of small and uniquely-shaped islands. Phil finds a spot to land, on sandy beaches dotted with palm trees.

Tommy steps out of the Bostonius, with Ranboo and Puffy in tow. Billiam and Wilbur follow right after. The ocean stretches as far as the eye can see, and if Tommy squints, he can see Britain in the distance.

“There’s a shipwreck!” Puffy points to a pile of wood at the other end of the island. If not for the vague features – a mast, torn and rotting sails and the streamlined body – Tommy would not have believed that it was a ship.

Could that vessel have belonged to Blockbeard? There is no harm checking it out, Wilbur would say.

It is much bigger than Tommy expected the closer he gets. Puffy rounds the side of the ship, exclaiming when she sees a gap in the planks. Gingerly, she steps over the debris, hopping over pools of water, making her way towards what appears to be a storage chest at the far end of the chamber of debris.

“It’s locked,” Puffy mutters. Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?

<Puzzle: Strawberry Sharer>

You have a huge mound of strawberries to share between four children, A to D. Each of these children is very picky about the number of strawberries they would like.

A: “I want one fewer than B.”

B: “I want three times what C gets.”

C: “I want five fewer than A.”

D: “I want half as many as A.”

Bearing in mind that each plate holds up to nine strawberries, can you dish out the fruit and satisfy all children’s demands?

Puffy solves the puzzle easily and she lifts the lid of the chest. She holds up whatever she finds within and waves for them to see.

“What’s that?” Tommy asks, squinting.

“It’s a note. Kinda. With a map,” Puffy says. She hops over the lake of water that separates them, unrolling the map and plastering it against the sand. Wilbur receives the note from her.

Tommy’s eyes rove over the map. He spots the island is that Great Britain peeking out of the corner of the fraying parchment. Other than that, all Tommy can see are smaller islands, with a giant “X” that supposedly marks the spot.

That is what pirate maps are about, are they not?

“What does that mean?” Ranboo asks, pointing at the red cross splattered on the parchment.

“It means that there’s probably some treasure buried there,” Puffy explains. “We should go over to where the ‘X’ is. Blockbeard’s treasure might be there.”

Tommy is delighted to realize that crossing the islands are easy when the water only reaches his ankles between the shores. Rocks and boulders and clumps seaweed litter the beach. Palm trees sway in the wind. It is a pleasant place for a holiday.

“Is that…?”

Following the map’s trail, the group comes to a cave. A rather sinister one, at that. Its entrance resembles a smiling skull, hollow sockets carved into the rock wall.

“I can sense an Azran egg from within,” Ranboo says, shuffling towards the cave.

“Shall we go check it out, then?” Billiam says.

Wilbur nods. “Of course.”

He takes the first step into the cave, with Billiam following closely behind. Then Tommy, then Ranboo and then Puffy.

A draft courses through the cave. Water drips from soda straws above. Tommy steps where Wilbur steps, careful not to slide off the edge and into the depths of the rapids below.

After treading uneven terrain in the dark for what seems like an eternity, Tommy is relieved to see illumination up ahead. Illumination in the form of luminous moss. This place must be linked to the Azran after all! Why was Blockbeard here, anyway?

The luminous moss becomes more and more common, growing all over the rocky walls and even the ceiling, providing them much-needed light. The moss seems to congregate in the chamber ahead. Upon closer inspection, stepping through the narrow entranceway, Tommy realizes just what they have been led to.

A throne made of gold, surrounded by treasure chests bursting with coins and other valuable items. Wilbur stiffens.

“This is…” Billiam starts.

“Not the real treasure,” Wilbur says, tone clipped. “Don’t touch anything. There could be traps.”

He strides past the throne, towards the wall on the other end of the cavern, overgrown with plants. He pushes the curtain of vines aside and steps through. Tommy gapes. Who knew that there would be a secret passageway so…so conspicuously hidden? He takes extra care not to come into contact with any of the fool’s gold and makes after Wilbur who has disappeared down the corridor.

This craggy corridor is lengthy, its walls decorated with symbols of the Azran. Tommy swallows a lump in his throat when he notices something smeared on the ground that resembles something red…

Just what awaits them at the end of the long trail?

They enter yet another chamber, this one covered in crystals and shining moss. There, standing on a pedestal in the middle of the room, is the Azran egg that they had been searching for.

Well, compared to the others, this one is relatively easy.

Tommy walks right up to it, inspecting it. Yup, it is the Azran egg, alright. The patterns match, and it has that little amethyst on its front.

Tommy reaches over and swipes it. By the time someone tries to stop him, it is too late.

“Tommy!” Wilbur half-shrieks.

“W-What?” Tommy cries, panic rushing through his veins. What did he do? Why is Wilbur getting so-? A deep voice rings in Tommy’s ears, echoing in the chamber.

“May the curse of the Azran befall you.”

The walls rumble and the ground begins to crumble. The pedestal sinks through the earth, leaving no traces behind. The chittering of bats from above scares Tommy so, their cacophonous screeching threatening to rupture his eardrums.

“Get out!” Wilbur shouts. “Get out now!”

Tommy turns, only to find that the only entrance and exit is being sealed up by a rapidly-rising wall of rock. No way. They’ve just…

He and Wilbur have been locked in.

And yet, the crumbling does not stop. Dust and dirt continue to fall to the depths below, the splash of water hardly comforting.

Oh God.

“Tommy,” Wilbur says, with an arm curling around his waist. “Hold on tight.”

Just as he utters those words, the platform beneath them splits and cracks. Tommy holds his breath, heart racing at a mile a minute. His stomach drops as they plummet through the air, straight down into the river below.

*

Tommy must have passed out sometime during the fall, waking up to the smell of nature. His back rests upon a hard ground, head against the softest of coats with a familiar scent. God, he just wants to go back to sleep right this instant…

“Tommy. Are you awake?”

Tommy cracks open an eye. God. Is that Wilbur’s face? No thank you. He would much rather sink back into dreamland.

Wait a minute.

Tommy sits bolt upright, forehead smashing into Wilbur’s chin. Wilbur cries out, stumbling back, crashing onto his rear. Tommy squints, getting a good look at the man who nurses his poor face.

Wilbur is bleeding, the sight utterly horrible. Blood oozes from the gash above his brow, matting his hair with the crimson. Tommy gulps.

“You child,” Wilbur mutters, still rubbing at his chin.

“Wilbur, you’re bleeding. There’s, like, blood everywhere.”

Wilbur glares at him. “You don’t think I know that?”

“Don’t you have a bandage?”

“I don’t carry bandages of this size on my person,” Wilbur says. “If anyone has one, it would be Puffy.”

“Where is she anyway?”

“They managed to escape before the ground gave way and dumped us here,” Wilbur says sourly.

Speaking of the ground opening up beneath them...

“Wilbur, the egg!”

“I have it,” Wilbur says, holding up one of the Azran eggs, presumably the one Tommy retrieved from that chamber. He picks himself up, holding out a hand. Tommy tosses him his coat, which Wilbur slips on.

There is only one way. One way for them to walk, the narrow rocky path accompanied by a rushing river of water. Sea water, perhaps? The eerie noises of the cave do not help matters. Wilbur takes the lead, coat swishing around his legs.

Is Wilbur mad at him? Tommy did grab that egg rather rashly, after all. It had just been there, within reach. What had they expected him to do?

“Tommy?”

Wilbur calls from up ahead, standing at a fork in the road. Tommy raises his head from where he paused, lost in his thoughts.

“I’m coming.”

It is hard to look at Wilbur and see that bloodied brow, courtesy of Tommy Innit’s carelessness.

“Which one of these paths shall we take?” Wilbur asks, gesturing to the caverns before them.

Tommy glances from one to the other. They look the same to him.

“I don’t know, Wilbur. You’re smarter than me.”

Wilbur shrugs. “Well, what I suspect is that there are tasks at the end of both caverns, and only by accomplishing them can we reveal a path that would take us out.”

“Really?”

“Footprints,” Wilbur says, gesturing to a set of footprints made in mud, cast in stone. Not just one set of footprints, but two. They seem to have each headed down one of the caverns, then returned, before they end at a wall. Wilbur walks up to said wall and raps his knuckles against it.

The sound comes away hollow.

“This is a door,” Wilbur says. “We’ll just need to get it open.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and meets Tommy’s gaze. “Shall we split up?”

“I…” Tommy’s mouth dries. “Why can’t we go together?”

“Because I suspect that both tasks in the caverns must be completed together,” Wilbur says. “Two sets of footprints and both sets left their respective caverns and the dungeon itself.”

Tommy nods stiffly.

Wilbur regards him for a moment with an unreadable expression. He kneels, such that he is at Tommy’s eye level. He places a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, the only warmth in this cold, dank place.

“This is the time when you have got to be brave, Tommy,” Wilbur says softly. “Anything could happen in those caverns. Only with a courageous and witty mind can you overcome these challenges.”

Tommy nods again. His tongue is tied, unable to speak.

“If you ever run into any danger, just holler my name,” Wilbur says, rising to his feet and ruffling Tommy’s hair. “I will be there in an instant.”

Tommy is not stupid. Those words were meant to pacify a child. Tommy is no child…well, maybe he is, but not in mind.

And yet this very same mind was encouraged by those words. It is as if something has awakened within Tommy. Something ferocious and determined.

“Good boy,” Wilbur says teasingly. He departs for his cavern of choice. “I will see you back here when we fulfil our tasks then, Tommy.”

Tommy gives Wilbur a salute before Wilbur is completely swallowed by the darkness of the corridor. Tommy takes a deep breath, doing his best to calm his racing heart, and makes off down the damp path.

*

The path is slippery, ceiling covered with moss, along with bundles of glow worms. Who knew these animals could live all the way out here?

Tommy jumps at the sudden plop of water.

There is nothing to fear. Those people that came in before them made it out fine. Just fine.

The rocky path becomes wider and wider, before opening into what appears to be a beautiful lagoon filled with corals. Colours dance in the water as the fish swim, water rippling.

There, in the middle of the pool, is a giant clam with a pearl in its middle. What in the world is that? Can Tommy pick it up?

Or maybe not. They are still deep in Azran territory. Who knows what may happen if he just touches whatever he likes? Gingerly, he approaches the clam, hopping over shiny stones jutting from the water’s surface.

The clam appears even bigger up close, pearl glittering with the light of a thousand suns. Upon it is inscribed a puzzle. Must Tommy solve this to unravel its secrets?

<Puzzle: Tethered Ted>

Before you stands five items, each tied to a rope. Your goal is to pick the rope that is tied to the teddy bear. Which rope should you pull?

Tommy solves it easily, watching as the pearl begins to roll away further into the clam, revealing a button. A giant button, he might add. Must Tommy press on it?

A thought occurs to him. Is this what he and Wilbur must do at the same time? To press the button together?

But how are they able to do that without communicating?

Gut feeling? How does Tommy know that Wilbur is even there already? How does he know that Wilbur hasn’t already pressed his button and is waiting for him at the entrance of his cavern?

How is Tommy sure that the button would open the gate, instead of sending him plummeting to his imminent doom?

Tommy’s knees grow weak. He is only eleven years old. He has barely lived one decade. Is he willing to surrender his life to the Azran’s potential traps?

“ This is the time when you have got to be brave, Tommy. ”

Tommy’s heartbeat thunders in his ears as his palms hover over the button.

“ Anything could happen in those caverns. ”

Anything. Right. Like this dilemma that he has got on his hands.

“ Only with a courageous and witty mind can you overcome these challenges and gain freedom. ”

It is now or never.

Tommy slams his hand against the button, withdrawing them right before the clam snaps down on his arm. If he had been a single second slower…

The ceiling rumbles. The rocky passageway is starting to implode on itself. The symbols of the Azran glow menacingly, lights piercing Tommy’s vision as he turns tail and runs.

He runs and runs, willing his legs not to give up on him now. To push through till he sees Wilbur again.

Dust and debris rain around him. The walkway is getting even narrower, to the point where Tommy has to squeeze himself past the cracks in the wall, and yet it is showing no signs of stopping. Something explodes from behind him, but Tommy does not turn to find out what that was.

He has to make it out. He has survived so many peculiarities already from their previous run-ins with the Azran. He can survive this one too.

Tommy can see the mouth of the cavern. He leaps over a piece of rock, nearly stumbling. Clouds of dust catch up from behind, forcing coughs and wheezes from him.

“Tommy? Are you there? Tommy!”

Tommy’s voice has been stolen from him. He can barely open his eyes.

With one final leap, Tommy throws himself out of the cavern, right before the entrance seals itself in with the most elaborate design. Tommy lands right in someone’s arms, a safe haven where nothing can touch him.

He does not know when he began blubbering, thoughts blended together like fruits in a mixer. His voice comes out all wrong and his racing heart keeps him trembling. He had almost died back there. If he had only been one second later…

The hand rubbing circles on his back does wonders. His sobs devolve into mere sniffles, blowing his nose on the front of Wilbur’s shirt.

“You were very courageous there, Tommy,” Wilbur says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”

Tommy, through his blurry vision and wet trails on his cheeks, beams. It is then that he notices the flood of light from behind Wilbur. They have opened the door to this ancient Azran trap and freed themselves.

Wilbur takes his hand and leads him out into the revitalizing rays of the afternoon sun.

*

It feels good to be back, Tommy thinks, seated on the couch after the most relaxing bath yet. Puffy dries his hair, rubbing the cloth against his scalp and pulling on his roots.

“Hey! Watch it!” Tommy scowls.

“Sorry, kiddo.”

Ranboo is staring at them from the other end of the couch. He is trying to be inconspicuous about it, but Tommy can feel the intensity. He glances over at the cockpit where Phil is tending to Wilbur’s injuries. Billiam sits at the helm, piloting the Bostonius in Phil’s place.

“There you go, mate,” Phil says with a satisfied nod. “That should hold.”

Wilbur touches his brow with the deep gash, now hidden behind a white bandage. The blood has been cleaned from his face, so he does not look as much of a wreck as before.

“Were you not scared?” Ranboo asks. “When you were trapped in the Azran ruins?”

Tommy blinks. Where did that come from? “I wasn’t.”

“Don’t lie,” Puffy says. “You were literally crying like a baby when we found you.”

Tommy’s cheeks flush. “I was not!” He pauses, then considers his words. “Okay, fine, maybe a little. Just a teensy, weensy bit. I’m a brave man, you know. Wilbur said so.”

“Bravery…” Ranboo mumbles. “Bravery is when you show courage even in fear. Especially in fear. That’s how we defined it.”

“Who? The Azran people?”

“Uh huh.”

“Done,” Puffy says at the same time, removing the cloth and dumping it on the ground. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Without missing a beat, he asks, “Where are we going next?”

“Well, the last place we need to go is the city of Subbin,” Billiam says, drawing the yoke away from his body, and the Bostonius descends through the clouds. There, through the windshield, Tommy can see their destination coming into view. A giant Colosseum stands in the middle of the city. Tommy wonders if they have gladiator fights in there.

Only one way to find out.

Chapter Text

If this is what modern gladiator fights have been reduced to, Tommy wants no part of it.

It is some kind of game show, at the very least. A large screen in the middle of the Colosseum displays what appears to be a word problem while participants in the stadium slave over it. No, it’s not just a word problem. It’s a goddamn puzzle.

“Where are the swordfights? The gladiators all decked out in shining armour? The cheering crowd?” Puffy cries in dismay.

Ranboo is looking as awed as ever, more interested in watching the audience than the current puzzle match. The other two people are…

Absolutely absorbed. Tommy should have guessed.

“The answer’s easy,” Billiam says with a smug smile.

“How are you sure it’s right?” Wilbur counters.

Tommy can almost see the spark of electricity between their eyes. The spark of rivalry. Billiam and Wilbur are really at loggerheads here.

“And the answer is…!”

“D!” Wilbur and Billiam blurt in unison.

“It looks like Jackie got it right this time! He has trumped all the other contestants and will move on to the final battle royale!” The emcee screams into the microphone. Tommy has to plug his fingers into his ears.

“How are we going to find the egg in the middle of this cro-” Puffy starts before being rudely interrupted by the emcee yet again.

“Remember, folks! The contestants are battling for a priceless artefact, said to have been crafted from time immemorial!”

“What does ‘immemorial’ mean?” Tommy whispers.

“I don’t know,” Ranboo whispers back.

“The Azran egg has remained Emperor Porkius the seventh’s most prized possessions for the longest time…”

Tommy blinks. Did he just hear what he think he heard? The Azran egg? More importantly, their emperor’s name is Porkius?

“Only the most intelligent of minds have the slightest hope of prying it from his hands!” The emcee says. “Now, let us take a short break before we continue on with the games!”

“The Azran egg!” Puffy cries.

“Does that mean we’re going to have to win the, um, competition?” Ranboo asks. “How are we going to even enter?”

“We’ll just ask. Simple as that,” Wilbur says, already heading towards where Porkius the seventh is seated on his throne. “Come on.”

Wilbur has got serious guts. Tommy treads after Wilbur, ducking past the uproarious crowd with Billiam, Puffy and Ranboo right behind.

“And who the heck are you?” Porkius the seventh springs from his seat as soon as they approach. His cameraman jolts. “I don’t remember seeing you around here.”

Tommy would be surprised if he remembers seeing half the faces of his people.

“Apologies for the interruption,” Wilbur says, taking a bow. “I hope you are having a fine day today. The weather is amazing, isn’t it?”

Porkius eyes them suspiciously. “I despise small talk. Get to the point.”

Wilbur lifts his head, and Tommy has never seen a more devious glint in his eye. “If I were to get to the point, then I would implore you to allow us, or at least myself, to participate in the next round of this puzzle tournament.”

The cameraman leaps between Wilbur and Porkius. “Now see here! You don’t just stride up to the Emperor and demand to take part in our yearly tradition…”

“Actually,” Porkius says with a low hum. “I’d allow him to participate. Why not? It’ll spice things up a bit.”

The cameraman shrinks back. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Porkius says. He holds up a hand. “This guy will show you to the competitors’ grounds, where you may mingle with the rest of the participants before the next match.”

“Just me?” Wilbur asks.

“Yeah,” Porkius says. “I don’t have enough logistics to invite more of you.”

He is literally the Emperor. How on earth can he not have enough logistics? What other logistics does he need anyway? Tommy is not quite sure that this city is in safe hands with this guy on the throne.

“Wish me luck,” Wilbur says, flashing a smile before following the cameraman down to the competitors’ chambers.

“You guys can find some seats somewhere,” Porkius says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Or maybe not, considering your friend will probably be eliminated in the first round.”

“I hate to break it to you, but Wilbur is a smart man,” Puffy says. “I think he will win, if I’m entirely honest.”

Porkius raises a brow. “We shall see.”

Billiam manages to get them front row seats which afford an excellent view of the Colosseum.

“And here come the participants for the battle royale!” The emcee screeches into the microphone. Tommy flinches at the bellow. “First up, we have Jackie!”

A young boy dressed in torn and ragtag overalls walks up to his podium, waving at the crowd, his face blotched with soot broadcasted on staticky screens all over the place.

After Jackie is Laggius, then Edward, Ran, Watson, Bartholomew, Genevieve, Grievous, Levi and finally, Wilbur.

“Go, Wilbur!” Tommy cups his mouth and screams, joined shortly by Puffy and a timid Ranboo.

“You have to get first place or we’re leaving you here!” Billiam yells.

Each participant takes their podium upon the raised platform, staring up at the giant screen where the puzzle is supposedly displayed.

“A gentle reminder of the rules! Each participant must write their answer on the touchpad on the podium and their answer will be verified. If they get it right, then they will move on to the next round. If they get it wrong, they will have to try again. The last person to get the right answer at the end of each round will be kicked out and that will be the end of the road for you. Understood?”

A chorus of acknowledgement resounds from the participants.

“And now, the first puzzle, please!”

The puzzle flashes on screen, and the atmosphere immediately tenses.

<Puzzle: A Slippery Surface>

A postman is running late with his deliveries and wants to make it to the town on the other side of the lake as quickly as possible. Crossing the frozen surface of the lake is the fastest route, but it is so slippery that he won’t be able to stop unless he bumps into something. What’s more, some parts of the ice are so thin and cracked, they’ll break as soon as he crosses over them, meaning he’ll only be able to use them once.

What path should the postman take to reach the other side without falling in?

The light on Levi’s podium blinks to life, and so does Jackie’s. Ran’s blinks next, then Wilbur’s. Tommy breathes a sigh of relief. Watching someone solve a puzzle has never been this nerve-wracking in his life.

As soon as Genevieve’s podium’s indication light brightens, the emcee blows a shrill whistle, signalling the end of the round. The person who has yet to solve the puzzle is Laggius, who is rightly booted from the round.

“Sorry, Laggius, but better luck next time!”

Tommy watches as Laggius shuffles off the stage, shoulders slumped, looking as if he has a thundercloud over his head. This is truly the survival of the fittest.

“Now, on to the next question! Participants! Please turn your attention to the screen!”

<Puzzle: Burger Building>

Given the below setup of ingredients, your job is to clear the entire field of ingredients while leaving one in the middle. Each ingredient can jump over any other ingredient, but it cannot jump over more than one at a time.

The participants get to work, and the indication lights of the podium are blinking to life even before Tommy has even finished reading the question. Just how fast are these people? Wilbur’s one comes on third, faster than before.

“And now, it seems that Watson is the one booted from the games! Say goodbye to the riches you will never have, Watson!”

Wow. Harsh.

The game continues, each person kicked one at a time. Levi, then Edward, then Genevieve. Bartholomew and Ran are soon eliminated as well, leaving only Jackie, Grievous and Wilbur on the field. At this point, Tommy is on the edge of his seat. Jackie and Grievous are by no means stupid, having been able to make it this far. However, all this puzzle-solving must have gotten them rather fatigued.

“Unveil the puzzle for the next round!”

<Puzzle: Thirst for Answers>

You are organizing a little soiree and intend to be the perfect host. You heard that three of your guests are rather fussy and will be terribly offended if you offer them anything other than their favourite beverage. Your friends each give her a tip:

“B likes tea and C hates juice.”
“A likes milk or tea, while B hates juice.”
“Either B or C likes milk, and A hates juice.”

Sadly, one of these tips is utter rubbish. Still, can you figure out what to offer each guest?

Wilbur is the first this time, answer the first to be accepted by the podium, indication light blinking. Tommy breathes a sigh of relief, sinking back into his seat. Jackie is the next to get the answer, sticking his tongue out at the distraught Grievous.

“Grievous is eliminated from the semi-finals! Now, we shall begin the final game, a standoff between our own Jackie and newcomer Mr Soot!”

Tommy hears both cheers and booing from the crowd. The former mainly for Jackie and the latter for Wilbur, which is infuriating to say the least. Wilbur is an awesome and smart person. How can they treat him so dirty like this?

“Now, can both participants step off their podiums?”

The podiums sink beneath the platform, now replaced by a table. The bird’s-eye view of the table is captured by a hovering drone, blades slicing through the air. Placed on the table is a row of coins, twenty-four in total.

Wilbur stands at the long edge of the table, while Jackie takes his place opposite him.

“This is the final round,” the emcee says. “It is through this duel of the wits that we decide the winner! The person who gets to walk off with the wealth beyond your wildest imagination.”

<Puzzle Battle vs Jackie>

“In front of you lie twenty-four coins. You will take turns taking coins from the row, and you can take one, two, or three coins. No skipping turns and you cannot take more than three coins at once. The winner is the person who takes the final coins.

“Now, we shall let the person who won the last round to choose whether or not you would like to start first or whether you would like your opponent to start first.”

There must be a trick to this; this game is a giant puzzle. Wilbur has the power to decide who goes first and who goes second. That is a great advantage, but how can he ensure that he will take the final coins?

Wilbur meets Jackie’s eyes. Jackie who seems to be extremely relaxed, as if he knows he has got this one in the bag. Well, Wilbur wouldn’t let him, Tommy thinks. He is simply too smart for whatever antics Jackie is going to pull. Besides, Wilbur can start first. That’s a good thing, right?

“I will let Jackie start first,” Wilbur says.

“Alright then,” Jackie says with a knowing smile. Tommy grits his teeth. Did Wilbur choose wrongly? Are they going to lose this one chance they have at getting the egg?

Then again, they can probably stab Jackie and make off with it. Tommy is all up for stabbing people. Puffy could do it. She is athletic and can probably get away with some stabbing and sprinting.

Jackie takes three coins, and Wilbur takes one. Two coins, two coins. Three coins, one coin.

Then, Jackie stands, chair pushed back abruptly. Wilbur smirks.

“I forfeit,” Jackie says with a smile. Tommy gapes at the coins remaining on the table. There are still twelve in total. The outcome has yet to be decided. Unless Wilbur and Jackie know something that he does not.

“Wait, what?” Ranboo has never sounded so clueless in the short time Tommy has known him. And that is saying something.

“It appears that Jackie of Subbin has forfeited!” The emcee screeches into the microphone. “That means that the winner of the tournament is none other than the outsider Mr Wilbur Soot!”

Wilbur stands and holds up his hands, winning smirk on his face. Tommy pumps his fist into the air, screaming Wilbur’s name. God, his friend looks so cool when he beats someone at their own game. Wilbur turns to Jackie and shakes his hand. Jackie smiles.

“You deserve it,” Jackie says.

“Thank you.”

With that, Jackie leaves the battleground and Porkius moves to greet Wilbur, along with the promised Azran egg.

“Well, I kinda expected this,” Porkius says with a shrug. He shakes hands with Wilbur. “The renowned Professor Soot is a puzzle master, after all.”

Wilbur beams. “So you have heard of me.”

“You’re renowned, like I said. Across England, that is. I’m not sure about the rest of the UK.”

Porkius presses the final egg into Wilbur’s hands. Wilbur smiles and thanks him before stepping out of the battlegrounds and back to the competitor’s area.

Puffy’s phone buzzes. She reads the message and turns to the team. “Wilbur’s meeting us back at the airship.”

“Alright then,” Billiam says, rising. “Let’s go.”

*

“That was awesome, Wilbur!”

The man of the hour is standing by the Bostonius inspecting the egg they had just gotten. The fifth and final egg. After so many trials and tribulations, they have managed to secure all five Azran eggs.

What now, though?

“There you are,” Wilbur says, shoving the egg into his pocket, where the other five must lie. “It’s time to find out where these eggs are supposed to go.”

“It’s some Azran ruins somewhere, right?” Puffy asks. “Do you think Ranboo can sense it?”

Ranboo nods. “They should lead to the sanctuary. I can probably sense it when I’m really near it.”

“That’s as good as useless,” Billiam says with a sigh. Tommy’s sentiments exactly.

“I can, um, activate the eggs, though. It might point us in the right direction.”

“Activate the eggs?” Puffy wonders.

“Yeah. Just let me know when you want me to.”

Wilbur turns to the team. “Tomorrow. Let’s do it tomorrow morning. It’s almost night and everyone’s tired. I don’t think we want to be contending with any Azran traps while we’re exhausted.”

The suggestion is met with enthusiastic agreement. They are all sweaty and sore, having been running around the entire day. Tommy yawns, heading straight for his room. He cannot wait to throw himself onto the soft mattress and the downy pillow, to drift off into dreamland.

Tomorrow, they are going to find out exactly where those eggs will take them. The Azran sanctuary, Ranboo says. Now, where might that be?

Chapter Text

“Alright.”

The entire team is gathered in the Bostonius’ lounge. The five Azran eggs are laid out on the table, with Ranboo leaning over them. His eyes glow ruby and emerald, palms pressed flat against the table.

He begins to chant, words spilling from his mouth like a sutra. Tommy can almost feel the energy radiating from his very skin, like an ancient beast released from its restraints.

Four dots of blue light draw their attention to the shuddering eggs on the table, clattering against the wood. Is something going to happen?

Wilbur frowns. “Hold on.”

Ranboo stops his rambling. The eggs lose their light.

“Why are only four eggs glowing?” Puffy wonders, picking up the one egg that did not respond to Ranboo’s power and holding it out to Wilbur. Wilbur pinches it between his fingers, squinting at it. “This one’s the one that didn’t shine.”

“It’s probably a fake,” Billiam suggests.

Wilbur sighs, dropping the egg to the table. The egg hits the surface with a thump. “You’re right. It’s a fake.”

“Are you serious?” Tommy cries. “We went through all that trouble to get a fake egg? What are we going to do now?”

“We’ll have to find the real one, of course,” Phil says. “If you think about it, the only other people who would be pursuing the eggs are probably the ones that, you know, swapped it.”

“Swapped it?” Billiam sounds affronted. “Are you saying that Targent…”

Wilbur nods. “Probably. They stole one of the eggs and replaced it with a fake.”

“So what now?” Tommy asks.

“There’s only one thing to do,” Phil says. “We’re getting back that real egg.”

“Huh? How?”

“If our information is correct, Targent’s headquarters is located north of here,” Billiam says.

“Are we going to sneak into Targent?” Tommy gapes, staring from Wilbur to Billiam, who has moved over to the cockpit to sit with Phil.

“By now, Leon must have already gotten the egg,” Billiam says. “We’re not going to just sneak into Targent. We’re going to go straight to the boss himself.”

“You’re joking!” Now it is Puffy’s turn to protest.

“We’re not,” Wilbur says. “We cannot let the power of the Azrans fall into the wrong hands. Least of all the power-hungry Leon Bronev. Billiam, Phil, we should depart post-haste.”

“To the Nest, then,” Phil says, fiddling with the controls of the airship. “Hang on tight. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

*

The Nest, Targent’s base, is a military compound looking like it came from the Industrial Revolution. Power plants and factories populate the place, toxic waste in the clogged sewage pipes attracting all sorts of pests. Tommy pinches his nose as they approach the walls.

“How are we going to get in?” Tommy asks.

The heavyset metal door that Billiam found is tightly-shut, but..

Puffy kicks it down in a jiffy. Tommy stares at the wrecked door against the ground, the consequent bang resounding. Puffy grins, hands on her hips.

“Sometimes,” Wilbur says, amusement in his voice, “I worry that you might kill me in my sleep.”

“Hey, you never know.”

Thanks to Puffy’s superb physical ability, they have gained access to the insides. Their goal seems to be a tower in the very centre of the compound, looming over the other, smaller buildings. There are droves of Targent soldiers hanging around, too, armed with guns. Tommy gulps. Their stealth mission is going to be quite treacherous indeed.

“Stay close,” Wilbur orders. He and Billiam take the lead, with Puffy taking up the rear.

Moving through the desolate city feels like being in a spy movie. It is thrilling to slink around in the darkness and dart behind buildings to avoid detection by soldiers. Very soon, they approach the building of interest, the tower where the leader of Targent resides. Tommy marvels at its architecture. And the gold. The sheer amounts of gold that frames the windows, the doors…Virtually anything shiny catches his attention.

“So this is where Leon stays,” Billiam says, angling his head up to take in the majesty of it.

Wilbur has his head down, deep in thought. What is going on in that brain of his, Tommy wonders. Why is his friend so distracted when they are deep in enemy territory?

“There aren’t any guards around,” Puffy says, arms folded. “There’s no one to stop us.”

“And isn’t that strange?” Wilbur says suddenly. “We are a group of five people, standing outside what should be the most heavily-guarded building in the compound, and yet there is not a single soul in sight.”

“There’s a security guard,” Billiam points out, gesturing to a man sitting by the post, back turned to them.

“Even so, there were times during our trip here that made me believe that the officers were looking the other way,” Wilbur says. “Not to mention that no one attempted to shoot down an unrecognized aircraft approaching their base. Doesn’t this all seem odd to you?”

Oh God. Tommy’s head is spinning.

“What are you saying, Wilbur?” Billiam asks.

“All I’m saying is that I think we are lured here. By none other than Leon himself.”

“We can’t stop now,” Tommy protests, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “We’re so close. Even if we are lured, we…”

“I’m not saying we’ll stop,” Wilbur says. “Leon has the final Azran egg after all. I think we just need to be extremely careful with how we proceed.”

“We’re always careful,” Puffy says with a grin. “Leave the careful to us.”

Wilbur sighs. He turns to Ranboo. “Are you sensing an egg?”

Ranboo spins on his heels, nodding. “I think so…but it’s hard to tell with all the other energy around…”

“As long as there is the slightest chance that the egg is there,” Wilbur says. His gaze slides over to the guard who still has his back turned to them, speaking with someone over his walkie-talkie. “Now we just need to get rid of that guy…”

Billiam harrumphs, retrieving two bags from his pocket, each filled to the brim with something sweet-smelling. Tommy eyes it curiously.

“What’s that?”

“Sleeping bomb,” Billiam says. “You can never be too prepared.”

Wilbur frowns.

“Don’t doubt my skills,” Billiam says, approaching five metal vents, all lined up in a row. “Now watch as I put that guy out of commission.”

<Puzzle: Snoozysnore ’ s Plan!>

With the two bombs in hand, all Billiam has to do is to bounce one of them to the guard’s station. Bombs are deflected at a right angle when they hit a board. Additionally, whenever a bomb hits a board marked with “O”, the board itself will also rotate ninety degrees.

From which vent, or vents, should Billiam fire his two bombs from so that one of them lands next to the vent on the top-right corner?

The moment the guard slumps in his seat, that is their cue to head in. What greets the group is a massive pillar carved of stone, engraved with glowing blue hieroglyphs, the Azran language.

“So this tower was constructed to hide the existence of the pillar,” Billiam observes.

“Seems that way,” Wilbur says with a nod. He chances a glance towards the guard, fast asleep with his face squished against the counter. “We should hurry. Before he wakes up.”

They make their way past the guard’s station, clambering up the stairs towards the elevator. Ranboo trips and stumbles. Puffy grips his arm to steady him.

“You okay?”

Ranboo holds his head, trying to hide the pain from his features. “Yeah. The, uh, the Azran power is really strong here.”

“We shouldn’t- stay here longer than we have to,” Wilbur says. “Come on.”

The elevator arrives speedily and the five of them file into the car. Tommy finds himself squeezed between Wilbur and Puffy. He keeps his eyes on the meter above the doors. The number increases and increases, till it reaches the topmost floor and dings.

When the doors open, they are face to face with the same Azran pillar that the building wraps around. The blue words are glowing ever brighter, more brightly than the dull inscriptions on the first floor.

“Hold on,” Ranboo says, eyeing the words. “I think I can read those.” He squints at the words. “‘The path to great power opens at the chamber of awakening, for those who have reunited all five aura stones. Only then shall the Azran bestow its legacy upon the worthy.’”

“The aura stones are the Azran eggs, right?” Tommy asks.

“Yeah,” Billiam says. He makes for the single door at the other end of the lobby, opening up into a concourse. They are high up enough to overlook the entirety of the military compound. A cold gale blows. Tommy shivers, wrapping his arms around himself as he peers over the edge of the building. He can see the tiny speck that is the Bostonius from here.

“There,” Puffy says, gesturing to another door atop a flight of stairs. The doors appear heavy, weathered with age. “That must be Leon’s office.”

“In that case, let us proceed,” Wilbur says, straightening his coat. “Let’s go.”

The group follows Wilbur up the stairs. He nudges the door open, and they are welcomed into an office stacked with riches and relics. The place looks no different from Wilbur’s back in Gressenheller. Sitting at a desk at the far end of the room is none other than the leader of Targent, Leon Bronev himself.

His smile is chilling, full of deceit and malice. What can this man want with them to have to lure them all the way out here?

“Welcome to my humble abode, Wilbur Soot.”

Wilbur stares him down, hands tucked in his pockets. “Where is the last of the Azran eggs?”

“And we want no games, Leon,” Billiam says.

“No games, you say?” Leon says. The smile remains on his face. “I never expected to entertain you with any. You wish for the last aura stone?”

He reaches into his desk drawer and fishes out the final egg.

“That’s the one!” Tommy points at it, mouth agape.

“It is,” Leon says. “Now, this egg may be yours on one condition.”

“What condition?” Wilbur asks.

“You have to join Targent,” Leon says casually. “Lend us your assistance in unearthing the Azran legacy.”

Wilbur snorts. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, Leon.”

That’s his Professor! He would never join Targent, Tommy thinks. Who in their right mind would take up that offer?

Leon nods. “I thought you would say that.”

He holds out a remote controller and gestures to a screen. With the press of a button, an image shows up, flickering to life. Wilbur’s expression goes dead serious, forehead wrinkled.

“Leon,” Wilbur grits out. “What have you done?”

Tommy does not recognize the two people chatting away at the dainty table. A middle-aged couple, dressed formally, eating at a lovely gazebo, surrounded by flowers and plants of all kinds. Realization dawns on Tommy. Could they be…?

“Your parents are having quite the lovely lunch, aren’t they?” Leon says. Tommy does not miss the contempt in his tone. “Such wonderful people. It would be a shame if anything happened to them.”

“What have you done?” The rage simmers in Wilbur’s voice. He looks ready to tear Leon’s throat out.

“I didn’t do anything,” Leon says, as calm as ever. “At least, not yet. If you reject my offer, then that might be a whole different story.”

“I…”

“Don’t do it,” Billiam snarls. “He’s just trying to get under your skin.”

Leon peers over Wilbur’s shoulder, as if seeing Billiam there for the first time. He opens his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted.

“Thank you, Billiam,” Wilbur says, raising his head and meeting Leon’s gaze head-on. “You’re right. I would never join Targent.”

“I see. What a shame.” Leon frowns for a mere second, before the smile returns to his face. He nods, reaching for the egg and tossing it over to them. Wilbur catches it expertly.

Hold on a second. Is he giving it to them? Just like that? What is going through this lunatic’s mind?

“I have no further use for that stone,” Leon says. “Do as you wish with it.”

With that, Wilbur turns and heads out the door, stuffing the egg into his pocket along with the others. Leon does not act, opting to sit at his desk while the group takes their leave.

Well, that was rather anticlimactic. Tommy was expecting something more. Perhaps a battle of wits between Leon and Wilbur.

Even so, they have the egg now, and that is all that matters.

“Ranboo, can you activate them now?” Billiam says.

“Uh…right here?”

“Yes, right here,” Wilbur agrees. “Once we find out where the eggs will lead us, then we can go there on the Bostonius. We have a very good vantage point from here, and it doesn’t seem like Leon wants to kick us out.”

Tommy is not sure they should be dropping their guard this easily, but…whatever Wilbur says goes.

“Oh…okay.” Ranboo holds the five eggs in his hands. His eyes glow once more, one green, one red. The eggs resonate, radiating pulses of energy.

One by one, the eggs transform into strange parts, losing their rotundness as their insides spring out and take shape. Some are curved like the horns on a goat, and another simply looks like a tree trunk. Once the transformations are complete, Ranboo slots the pieces together like a jigsaw, creating a peculiar relic, resembling that of a bell riddled with inscriptions.

Ranboo clutches it, staring at the glowing words. His knuckles are turning white, gripped with such force that Tommy fears that it may break.

“What’s wrong, Ranboo?” Puffy asks.

“This…I…” Ranboo’s voice is shaky, his sentences cut-off and incoherent. His eyes begin to glow once more, hooded by drooped lids. No one dares speak, eyes on Ranboo as he silently absorbs the knowledge of the Azran. Tommy does not know how long the process took, or what exactly happened, but when the relic stops glowing, Ranboo snaps from his trance.

Ranboo gasps, hugging the bell to his chest.

“What did you see?” Billiam asks.

“I…” Ranboo gulps. “My memories are back. I know who I am now. And…the…what the Azran legacy really is. It cannot be awoken…no, it should not be awoken.”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asks. “We didn’t just do all that for nothing, right? I almost died back there!”

“So did I,” Billiam mutters.

“I cannot allow you to awaken it,” Ranboo says with a determined shake of his head. “I cannot, so if I…”

Without warning, he makes a dash for the edge of the building, the relic in hand. Wilbur makes after him, followed closely by Puffy, but Ranboo is still faster, perching himself at the edge of the roof with his back to the ground below.

“Ranboo…” Puffy trails off, seemingly unsure of what to say.

“If I cease to be right here, right now, then you won’t be able to awaken the Azran’s legacy,” Ranboo says. “It’s the only way to stop it from-”

“Your death will be in vain,” Wilbur says, hands in his pockets. “Events much bigger than what we thought have already been set in motion. Leon will stop at nothing till he obtains that power.”

“Even if I am no longer around?” Ranboo’s eyes flash dangerously.

“Even then. He will put that relic together piece by piece if he has to. Even if you are gone, he will find a way to bypass the Azran’s traps.”

Ranboo seems to consider Wilbur’s words, staring at his feet.

“With you on our side, we are more than likely to stop Leon in his tracks,” Wilbur says. “With your help, we can seal the Azran legacy away. Behind closed doors, like it is supposed to be.”

Tommy does not quite understand what this conversation is about. Is the Azran legacy a bad thing?

“Come away from there, Ranboo,” Wilbur says, voice softer this time. “And we can work together to stop Leon from awakening the power of the Azran.”

Ranboo dips his head, and slowly but surely, he does as he is told, taking slow steps towards the team. Wilbur gestures at the relic, and Ranboo holds it out to him.

It is at that moment that Billiam seizes the relic, tucking it under his arm and drawing a sword. Tommy gapes. Puffy gasps. Wilbur grabs Ranboo and yanks him away, just out of the range of that blade.

“Finally,” Billiam says with an amused chuckle. “I have my hands on the Key at last.”

“Billiam! What the hell are you doing?”

“I’ll be taking this,” Billiam says, dropping his coat and wig, the garments lying in a pile on the ground. Tommy gapes. That is not Billiam! That is none other than Techno Blade, the guy who tried to destroy Misthallery and to bury Monte d’Or alive!

That means the whole time they had been travelling with…

“I appreciate you coming all the way with me,” Techno says. “Really. Your puzzle-solving prowess was exactly what Phil and I needed to get our hands on the Key.”

“You know the consequences when you unlock the secret of the Azran, don’t you?” Wilbur says, a tic in his jaw.

“Maybe,” Techno says vaguely. Something appears behind him, whirring noisily as it hovers at the edge of the building. A plane of dull hues, piloted by none other than Phil. It is small, much smaller than the Bostonius, but has enough space for Techno to hop on, Key still in his grasp.

“You’re not getting away!” Puffy cries, lunging him. However, Wilbur pulls her back by the arm. Techno laughs as the plane takes off, heading towards the snow-capped mountains in the distance.

“Why’d you stop me, Wilbur?”

“If you had taken the leap, you would have fallen to your death,” Wilbur says sternly. “I’m not about to let my assistant make rash decisions if I can help it.” He turns to the door. “Let’s go. We will use the Bostonius and give chase.”

“But how do we know where to go?” Ranboo asks desperately. “By the time we reach it, they’ll be-”

“They’re bound for Snowchester,” Wilbur says. “Remember what you read from the pillar? The path shall open at the place of awakening.”

“And…?”

“Awakening,” Tommy repeats with furrowed brows. “You mean Ranboo’s awakening. So it’s that cave back in Snowchester!”

“Great!” Puffy nods, a determined glint in her eye. “Let’s hop to it, then! We can’t let Techno and Phil awaken the Azran’s powers.”

Wilbur leads them back down Targent’s tower, down the elevator and out the exit. As they dash through the streets of the compound, Tommy cannot help but notice the severe lack of personnel. Have the soldiers been posted elsewhere?

Well, there is no time to think about that now. They make it back safely to the Bostonius and Wilbur seats himself at the control panel.

“Do you know how to fly this thing?” Puffy asks.

“I have a license in, uh, operating small aircrafts,” Wilbur says, tapping a few buttons and pulling a lever. “Besides, I watched Phil when he drove. This shouldn’t be too hard.”

The Bostonius splutters to life. It looks like Phil didn’t bother sabotaging the engine, which is good for them. At Wilbur’s command, the Bostonius takes to the skies, weaving through the clouds.

It is time to take back what is theirs and confront the Azran’s power at last.

*

Chapter Text

“Hang on tight!”

Tommy’s stomach drops when the Bostonius takes a plunge, trees and branches stabbing the walls and glass, scratching and gashing. The airship bumps against the snow. Wilbur pulls on the yoke with all his might, right before the aircraft smashes into a sturdy wall of rock.

“You alright, Tommy?” Puffy asks, helping him to his feet. Wilbur leaps away from the chair just before the windscreen shatters above his head, raining glass all over the dashboard and seat. That would have been tragic indeed.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Well, the Bostonius won’t be flying anymore,” Wilbur says. “Come on, let’s go.”

*

The creepy snowman still stands outside the cavern where they first found Ranboo. The chilly wind blows, forcing Tommy to clutch his coat tighter to his body. There is no sign of Techno or Phil anywhere. Does that mean that they are already inside?

As soon as they venture into the cavern, they are greeted with a gaping hole in the wall, beyond where they had freed Ranboo from his cryogenic sleep. That hole was not there before – it must have opened in response to the Keystone that Techno holds.

“I can still hear them,” Puffy says, taking the lead. “We should hurry.”

The hole in the wall delivers them to a narrow passageway, filled with luminous moss lighting their way and water dripping from the ceiling. It gets colder the farther they go. Their breaths come out in puffs, and Tommy is just glad he decided to invest in a thicker coat.

Thankfully, the corridor is not long. Soon, the foursome finds themselves standing before another door, and before Techno himself. Phil is nowhere to be seen. The room is filled with icicles and the like, frost covering the rocky walls and bathing the room in an ethereal glow.

Upon hearing the sound of their footsteps, Techno turns around, a smirk on his face.

“Hand us the Key, Techno,” Wilbur says.

“So you’ve made it,” Techno says. “Impressive.”

“Oh, you bastard!” Tommy cries, fists clenched at his sides. “Give us back the Key right now, you thieving son of a-”

“Tommy!” Wilbur hisses. Ranboo jolts at the outburst. Tommy harrumphs, choosing to fold his arms and to maintain the angriest expression he can manage.

“Do you really think I was going to open the Azran sanctuary, Wilbur?” Techno says. “You really don’t know me at all.”

Wilbur raises a brow. “So you, too, know the real nature of the-”

“I’ll be taking that. Thank you.”

A new voice pierces the quiet. Tommy whirls around, gaping as another party makes their entrance. Leon strides in, accompanied by his soldiers. What are they doing here?

“Give me the Keystone,” Leon says. “And no one gets hurt.” His henchmen aim their rifles at the group, fingers on the triggers.

Wilbur meets Techno’s gaze, and Techno lets out a noise of frustration, tossing the key over to Leon. Leon catches it, gripping the relic perfectly in his palm.

“Finally.” Leon turns the Key over in his palm, inspecting it from all angles. “I now have the Key in my grasp. My years of research and hard work will come to fruition. Once and for all.”

“You can’t…” Ranboo pleads, shaking his head desperately. “You can’t open the sanctuary-”

“And you,” Leon says, booming voice much more powerful than Ranboo’s timid squeaks. “You are going to help me. As the emissary of the Azrans.”

Leon treads over to the chamber, holding the Keystone up to the violet amethyst on the door. The gem shines brightly and the door shakes violently in response. Leon chuckles. Tommy watches as the door to the chamber sinks into the ground, revealing another dark passage ahead of them, illuminated only by the moss.

“Now, I have no more need for you,” Leon says. “Dispose of them.”

“W-Wait!” Ranboo starts, only to be interrupted by the clanking of metal. Following the sound, Tommy’s gaze lands on a strange metal emblem on the ceiling glowing a brilliant aqua. The soldiers’ guns are drawn to the emblem, which must be a magnet, like moths to a flame.

A grunt has Tommy snapping his head in its direction. Taking his chance, Wilbur tackled Leon, snatching the Keystone and leaping back, feet sliding along the ice on the floor.

“The Azran does not permit weapons into their sanctuary,” Wilbur says, gripping the Key tightly. “They have taken measures to prevent this hostile takeover.”

Leon snarls for just an instant, before throwing his head back and laughing. He turns his gaze to someone just past Tommy’s shoulder and nods.

What is-

Tommy does not get to finish that sentence, because in the next second, there is an icicle to his neck, its sharp edge digging into his flesh.

“W-What is…Puffy?” Tommy cries, scarcely daring to breathe.

Puffy says nothing. She does not even look at Tommy, keeping her gaze on Wilbur. Wilbur’s face is a mask of shock, eyes wide and lips parted like a confused fish.

“Puffy?” His voice is small, smaller than Tommy has ever heard it. “Puffy, what are you…?”

“Hand Uncle Leon the Key,” Puffy says. “Or Tommy gets it.”

Holy shit. Tommy glances from the threatening icicle to Wilbur’s face, and back to the icicle. She could simply stab him through the neck and leave him bleeding out on the icy floor…

Wilbur grits his teeth, staring down at the Keystone for a mere second before tossing it back to Leon. Once more, Leon secures it with a skilful catch. He chortles, grabbing Ranboo’s arm.

“That’s a good girl. Now come, Puffy. Bring the boy with you so they won’t try anything funny.”

Tommy wants to open his mouth to scream for Wilbur’s help, for him to do something…anything! Wilbur has always had a plan for…for every single circumstance…

However, this time, he is helpless. He can only watch as Tommy is dragged away. Puffy’s hold on him is strong, the cold edge of the icicle against his neck keeping him from acting. If he could bite her hand off…he would.

How dare Puffy betray them like this? How dare she-?

Leon is walking ahead, dragging Ranboo with him, and Puffy seems to be lagging behind. Tommy can hardly bring himself to look her in the eye. As soon as Leon turns a corner ahead of them, Puffy pauses in her tracks, removing the icicle from his neck.

“What the hell was that?” Tommy exclaims. Puffy grimaces, a finger shooting to her lips. Screw that! Tommy will scream as loud as he wants.

“Not so loud!” Puffy huffs. “Look, I…uh…I had to do it, alright, Tommy? Leon’s my uncle, and he…without him, I wouldn’t be alive right now.”

“Yeah, so? You shouldn’t have taken me hostage.”

Puffy bristles. “Can’t you just listen for once?”

Tommy shuts up.

“He took me in after my parents died. I owe my life to him,” Puffy says with a sigh. “He used to be very kind. That is, until he became so obsessed with the Azran.”

“Obsessed?”

“Yeah, like it was consuming every last bit of his soul.” The gravity in Puffy’s voice is unmistakable. “I’m going to leave you here, Tommy. Wilbur should be coming soon…and I need to go now. If I stay any longer, Uncle might get suspicious.”

Tommy nods stiffly. Puffy tosses the icicle to the ground and stomps on it, cracking it in two. A voice floats from ahead, commanding voice that can only belong to one Leon Bronev.

“Coming, Uncle! The boy twisted his ankle! I’m leaving him behind!”

She spins on her heels, barely sparing Tommy a single glance before striding off down the icy corridor to join her uncle. Tommy shivers, glancing behind him. Wilbur will come, right? He always does.

All Tommy has to do is to wait.

*

“So you didn’t see that coming either,” Techno says, rubbing at his mask. “That’s kinda surprising if you ask me.”

“Don’t,” Wilbur snaps. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Why are you so aggressive?” Techno mutters. “I’m just asking.”

Wilbur ignores him, striding off towards the path that Leon and Puffy went, and they had taken Tommy and Ranboo with them. How could Puffy have done that? After all that they had been through together?

“Wilbur?”

A small voice bounces off the walls of the narrow corridor, and Wilbur makes a run for it. He knows that voice.

Tommy stands in the middle of the icy corridor, shivering uncontrollably, blowing on his hands as he tries to conserve body heat. Wilbur removes his coat, flinching at the sudden chill, and wraps it around Tommy’s shoulders.

“Are you alright, Tommy?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Tommy struggles to rein in the chatters of his teeth. He peers past Wilbur’s shoulder, narrowing his eyes at the other person in tow. “What the hell is he doing here?”

“Rude,” Techno mutters.

“He’s helping for now. We have a common goal,” Wilbur says.

“What? I don’t want no bloody traitor helping us!”

“For now,” Wilbur says sternly. “We’ll kick him out once we’ve saved the world.”

“Saved the world? What do you mean, Wilbur?”

“Unlocking the Azran’s secret is not the glorious undertaking you think it is, Tommy,” Wilbur says. “If Leon unleashes their power, then he will have wrought destruction upon all of mankind.”

Tommy gulps. Wilbur cannot quite imagine what kinds of thoughts are running through his head right now. Fear? Anger?

“Come on,” Wilbur says. “Let us go. We have to stop them.”

The trio ventures farther into the depths of the Azran chamber. They have to stop Leon before he heralds the end of the earth as they know it.

*

The passageway delivers them onto a platform standing on stilts, water rather far beneath them. A gondola bobs below – clearly their only way across the chasm, below the archway and into the next chamber.

How are they going to get to the gondola? There does not seem to be any switches anywhere, nor levers. Is there some secret Azran ritual that they are supposed to perform?

“Look up there.” Techno gestures to a series of platforms raised above the water, accessible by two sets of stairs at either end of the strange maze. The tiles look wobbly – Tommy doubts it can hold the weight of an adult for more than a second – and it looks like they would have to step on each switch once in order to proceed.

In other words, a puzzle.

“Let me go,” Tommy says, tugging on Wilbur’s sleeve.

“Tommy, no.”

“What? Why? I’m a dedicated puzzle-solver, Wilbur. Like you. If you can do it, I can too!”

“And what if you can’t? What am I going to tell your father?”

“Well…” Tommy shakes his head. “There’d be nothing to tell my father about because I’m going to do it.”

Without waiting for Wilbur’s response, Tommy is already running up the set of stairs. Wilbur’s reaction is much too slow, his grab for Tommy missing by several inches. Tommy hurries up the staircase, eager to prove himself. To prove that he, too, can contribute his efforts.

Tommy stands over the chasm, observing the maze of winding paths and junctions. This is the least he can do, even if he can accomplish nothing else.

<Puzzle: Sprint and Switch>

The water level of the canal is controlled by switches on the walkways overhead. If Tommy can press all the switches, the water will rise to its normal level. However, due to its age, the walkways with light tiles will fall almost as soon as he steps on them. It’s only safe for him to wait on or turn at the tiles at junctions and corners, no matter what colour the tile is.

What route should Tommy take to reach the other end of the walkways while activating every switch on the way?

Once Tommy steps on the final switch, a rumbling sound grates on his ears, followed by a splash. Already, water is filling the canal up from the various pipes embedded in the dilapidated brick walls. Very soon, Techno and Wilbur are able to board the gondola bobbing in the water.

Tommy makes his way down the staircase, ending up back where he started. With Wilbur’s help, he boards the gondola, rocking the boat back and forth on the water.

Tommy has never been on a gondola before, and never did he imagine that his first experience on one would be in the Azran sanctuary. With his best friend Wilbur and archnemesis Techno.

Oh well, there is always a first time for everything.

*

The gondola bumps against the jetty on the other end, and this time, the group finds themselves in a dimly-lit chamber. The walls are cast a bright scarlet, giving the place an eerie atmosphere. The massive golems with ruby eyes matching the colour of the walls does not help his nerves.

Wilbur stops mid-way, a hand on his chin and the other grasping his elbow.

“Is it just me,” Wilbur says, “or is it too quiet here?”

“It’s not just you,” Techno says, shaking his head. “I think I-”

All of a sudden, Techno is lunging at Tommy, the latter screeching as he is knocked onto his back. A flash of red light smashes into Techno’s shoulder, the laser piercing flesh like a bullet.

“Techno?” Tommy has never felt so bewildered, so taken by surprise, in his life. Did Techno just…

“Ow, this hurts,” Techno grunts, grasping his shoulder where he was struck. Tommy stares, wide-eyed, at the blood blossoming all over his shirt.

“Techno!” Wilbur runs over, crouching by Techno’s side. “What’d you-You’re a fucking idiot!”

“Would you rather I” – Techno winces – “just leave your assistant to die?”

“Of course not…” Wilbur bites his lip, at a loss of what to say. “You need medical attention. Right now. Come on, Tommy, get his other arm.”

“No, you don’t have to care about me,” Techno hisses. He winces at the pain, hand coming away from the wound bloody. “Just…You have to stop Leon from awakening the Azran’s power.”

“But…”

“Look, Phil’s got me, okay?” Techno says with a huff. “I’m fine.”

“Tech-”

“What are you standing around here for? Just go already! Or Leon’s going to destroy the world!”

Wilbur stands, determination clear on his features. He meets Tommy’s eyes. “Come on, we have to go.”

“But Techno…”

“He’s fine. He’s got Phil.”

Techno laughs. “You never change, Wilbur. Just the same as always.”

“Never change…?” Wilbur turns back to stare at Techno. “Wait…you’re…”

“What? What do you mean ‘you never change’?” Tommy glances from Wilbur to Techno.

“Oh, please. Spare me the tragic backstory,” Techno says with a wave of his hand. “You can tell the kid on the way.”

Wilbur nods. “I’d better see you alive after all this.”

With that, Wilbur runs off in the direction of the next chamber, Tommy following closely behind.

*

The next chamber, past the stone golems, contains only an elevator, the scribbles on the walls glowing blue. Azran symbols yet again. Tommy and Wilbur scramble into the elevator and Wilbur tosses a lever. The elevator jerks, the counterweight drops and the chains clink, pulling the car higher and higher to the next floor.

“Did you know Techno before all this, Wilbur?” Tommy asks. “What did he mean by ‘you never change’?”

Wilbur presses his lips in a tight, thin line. “Techno was…He was my brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Older brother,” Wilbur says with a cough. “My name wasn’t originally Wilbur, I don’t think, but my memory’s a tad hazy to recall.”

“Wait, what? So what was your name, then?”

Wilbur shakes his head. “I’ve got no clue. I think only Leon knows that.”

“Leon? What does Leon have to do with all this?”

“Puffy and I are cousins, Tommy, and Leon is Puffy’s uncle.”

The elevator clatters as it ascends. The air around them is beginning to thin – Tommy can feel it, the lack of oxygen, the bitter cold of the high altitude.

However, the realization hits Tommy like a splash of water to the face.

“Wait, Leon’s your dad!” Tommy cries, stabbing a finger in Wilbur’s direction. “And Techno’s your brother!”

“Yeah. When Techno and I were really young, our parents were taken from us. By Targent. They stormed the house and grabbed them, and they were gone. For good.”

“So Leon wasn’t initially…”

“No, he was not part of Targent. Not till that day when he was forcefully removed. We lived for quite a while by ourselves. Techno was the one who settled most of everything.”

“How old were you?”

“I think Techno was ten and I was…um…seven? I’m not sure,” Wilbur says with a frown, glancing at the rock walls passing them by. “Techno took very good care of me, I’d say. He was the smarter one. He was reading our father’s archaeology books and studying the Azran when he was only ten.”

“Are you joking?”

“No. Not at all. I remembered that he wouldn’t play with me, and that I’d get annoyed at him over that.”

The elevator clunks to a halt, showing them to a moving platform that they would have to ride across a giant chasm. The duo gets on and Wilbur flicks another lever. The platform begins to move. Tommy leans over the railing, wowed by the sheer majesty of the ravine below. He turns back to Wilbur.

“So, what happened after that? After the whole, uh, parents taken away bit?”

“A couple was looking to adopt,” Wilbur says. “They wanted to adopt Wilbur.”

“They wanted to adopt you.”

Wilbur laughs. “No, absolutely not. Remember the name ‘Wilbur’ once belonged to the man now named ‘Techno’.”

“So they wanted to adopt Techno? Why not the both of you?”

“They probably did but didn’t have the ability to take care of us both,” Wilbur says. “Techno left me with his adoptive parents, and I never did see him again until…”

“Until he tried to wreck Misthallery.”

Wilbur nods. “Until he tried to wreck Misthallery.”

The elevator clanks to a halt, and the gears and cogs go silent. They have reached what appears to be a platform floating in the sky, windows carved into the walls affording them a beautiful view.

Tommy would have stopped to marvel at the scenery below them if not for the fact that they are standing mere feet from Leon, Ranboo and Puffy.

Chapter Text

Leon notices their arrival, the tap of their footsteps against the polished marble. He spins on his heels, a wicked grin on his face.

“You are too late, Soot. You cannot stop me now,” Leon says, holding the Keystone out tauntingly. “I have sacrificed my entire life, all my time, my energy…everything, for this one moment.”

“Don’t do it, Leon,” Wilbur says, face hardened. “The Azran legacy is not what you think it is.”

Leon shakes his head. “Of course you wouldn’t understand. You who did not dedicate your life to the Azran.”

“If you did, then you would also know what the Azran legacy is about,” Wilbur says, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. “Since you have devoted yourself to it.”

Leon turns, back to them, to a human-shaped coffin in the middle of the room. It is a deep-sea blue, golden threads spidering from the shape of a heart cast in the middle of the azure.

Leon jerks his chin at the coffin, and Puffy pulls it open. Ranboo steps in, as if he is under a spell. His eyes are glowing, much like when he reverted to his emissary state. Puffy closes the coffin, a hole cut from the lid to show Ranboo’s listless expression.

“Now, all I must do is to pierce the heart of the emissary,” Leon says, reading off an inscription on the wall above the coffin. He fidgets with the Keystone, fingers running over the smooth surface and flicking several levers and buttons.

“Leon, no-!” Wilbur makes for him, arm outstretched, but Leon is faster. The Keystone flips into the shape of a dagger, grip engraved with Azran runes.

Leon plunges the dagger into the golden heart of the coffin, the blade digging deep into Ranboo’s chest. Ranboo’s pupils are blown wide, lips parted, as great energy bursts from where the Keystone dagger has dug into his skin.

Tommy stumbles when the platform begins to rumble and shake. He drops to one knee, steadying himself. Ribbons of gold flow through the veins beneath them, like blood through vessels. The scenery outside changes, from a lush green forest to a clear, blue sky dotted with clouds. What in the world is happening?

“Foolish mortals.”

The coffin’s lid bursts open and Ranboo emerges, body shimmering in the sunlight. He hovers in the air, arms spread. This is not the Ranboo they know. Not the Ranboo who accompanied them on their journey. This is Ranboo the Azran emissary.

“Millennia have passed, and yet humans never change. Their hubris will be their demise.”

A strange shape soars by the window, capturing Tommy’s attention. He rushes over, sticking his head out. A flurry of black, humanoid figures, with grotesque, elongated proportions, are filling the skies, firing streams of laser from their eyes. More and more of them emerge from the base of the platform, from entrances hidden by the ice.

The platform detaches itself from whatever mountain it was perched on, rising higher and higher into the air.

“Leon, what have you done?” Wilbur’s voice is hardly audible over the din of destruction. Lasers strike mountains and the Targent military vehicles upon the cliffs. A whole forest goes up in flames.

“Watch upon your civilization as it crumbles, just as ours did,” Ranboo continues. “If humans were to remain alive, the earth will surely rot.”

“This wasn’t…” Leon leans over the window’s edge, staring at the golems as they attack everything in sight, ruining the world, razing the ground till there is nothing left. “This wasn’t what I wanted.”

“We tried to warn you,” Wilbur snarls. “Did you listen? No, of course not. You were too stubborn to listen!”

“I was not! I did it…I did it for Rachel! I did it all for her and…and my boys whom I’ve left behind!” Leon growls. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand!”

“Can we stop arguing about this for a second and just figure out a way to stop this?” Puffy shouts.

At that moment, Ranboo’s feet touch the ground, the boy no longer exuding a purplish aura from his body. He blinks, having awoken from his emissary state.

“Ranboo!” Tommy shrieks, running over and grabbing at his arms. “Ranboo, how do we stop this?”

“Stop? Stop what…?” Ranboo starts, before noticing the sheer number of golems wreaking havoc outside. He stares, slack-jawed.

“So the Azran’s power has been awoken…” Ranboo’s voice is quiet amidst the chaos, as if he has come to terms with the world’s destruction.

And that makes Tommy mad.

“Well, you’re one of the Azran, aren’t you?” Tommy cries. “Surely you know how to stop this!”

“There must be an off switch…right?” Puffy says, swallowing. “Please tell us there’s an off switch.”

“Well, it’s the…it’s this pillar that’s controlling the golems,” Ranboo says. He gestures at the chamber around them, at five alcoves in the wall, crystalline stones shimmering in the light of the pillar. “We’re going to have to step in the light beams if we want to stop them.”

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Wilbur says. “There are five of us here, and five pillars.”

“Wait!” Ranboo throws out a hand. “But if you do this…then…if you do this, then you’ll…you’ll die!”

Tommy freezes. Did Ranboo just say what Tommy think he did?

“We’ll die?”

Ranboo nods. “Yes. Whoever stands in that beam will…will die. The energy will be too much for your mortal bodies to handle.”

No more breathing. No more moving. No more seeing his father and mother and…Tommy lets out a shuddering breath. But if they don’t do this, then…

Wilbur bites his lip. Leon’s gaze is still locked on the Armageddon happening outside the window.

It is Puffy who first steps forward, raising an arm. “Well, I’m gonna do it. It’s the only way to save the world, right?”

Tommy thinks, staring down at his sneakers. Puffy may have betrayed them, but still…

“I’ll do it as well,” Wilbur says. “Tommy, you-”

“No, Wilbur,” Tommy says, resolutely. The thudding of his heart is loud in his chest. Every molecule of his being is screaming at him to run, to hide away in a corner like the scared child he is. “I’m gonna do it, too.”

“But Tommy, your parents-”

“If I don’t do this, Wilbur,” Tommy says, swallowing the lump in his throat, “then I will have no parents to return to.”

The regret in Wilbur’s eyes is overwhelming. Tommy is the very embodiment of his failure. The one thing he swore to protect, and now…

“I…I want you to follow what your heart says, Tommy,” Wilbur says with a sigh. “And if you think that this is right, then…”

“I do.” He is scared. God, Tommy can hardly feel his legs, nor can he stop his fingers from trembling.

Wilbur nods. “Then I won’t stop you.” He turns to the final person in the room. “Are you going to help us, Leon? This was all your doing, you know?”

Leon steps away from the window, his sunglasses now hanging from his collar now and revealing his eyes, the regret evident in them. “I…You’re right. It is my fault.”

Huh. Looks like he convinced himself, Tommy thinks. How convenient.

“If you truly want to atone,” Wilbur says, jerking his chin at one of the shining stones, at the deadly beam of light. “Then help us stop the Azran golems.”

Leon nods.

The five of them head to one stone each. Tommy pauses in front of the intense beam of light. He never did think that he would be staring death in the face like this. He thought he would live past the age of eleven, at least.

Tommy’s breath comes out quick and short, doing his best to quash the bubbling fear in the pit of his gut. He can do this. He can definitely do this. For the sake of the world.

Tommy takes a step into the beam of light, and the excruciating pain that follows is nothing like he has ever imagined. It eats at his flesh, digging through every layer to his very bone. He bites his tongue, blood spilling from the wound and infecting his tastebuds with metal.

Puffy's scream rips through the air, then Wilbur’s. Even Leon is grunting. Each of them looks utterly tortured, braving the pain. Tommy cannot falter now. He squeezes his eyes shut, body tensing.

Tommy clenches his jaw and throws himself in the path of the light.

*

Ranboo gazes around him. The others have stepped between the light of the pillar and the stones. Four of the five power sources have been deactivated, and all that remains is his own.

He cannot feel pain. Not with this body of his. Ranboo squares his shoulders and leaps into the light.

Or, at least, he tries to.

Ranboo cries out as he is thrown back by the light, sparks flying from where his skin made contact with the beam.

No way… Ranboo stares at the light, despair filling his chest. There is no way. Can he not deactivate this because he’s…

Ranboo hurls himself at the beam of light again. The least he can do is to put his friends out of their agony as quickly as he can manage. As long as he can…just…get…in!

The light repels him yet again, sending him crashing into the wall. Ranboo picks himself up. He can do it. He can-

“What the heck?” A familiar, deep voice booms from the entrance of the room. “What the heck is this?”

Ranboo stares at the lone figure standing in the entranceway, at Techno with his eyes wide and curious. And a little bit fearful.

“Ranboo? Wilbur? What the-” Techno catches himself. “What are you-?”

“Techno…” Ranboo bites his lip. “We’re trying to stop the world from…from being destroyed, and, um the only way we can do that is…”

“Stop the world from being destroyed?” Techno scratches his head, sauntering over to Ranboo. “Man, I’m down for that.”

“But you’ll-”

“Die?” Techno says, sticking a hand into the lone, unoccupied beam of light. “Dude, I’ve nothing left to live for. I’ve fulfilled by life’s purpose if I can stop Leon from carrying out his evil plan.”

Ranboo watches as Techno effortlessly slips into the beam of light, doubling over from the sudden bout of pain. He hisses, back pressed against the stone.

All of a sudden, the pillar’s glow dissipates. The beams of light are no more. Ranboo glances outside, at the golems returning to the platform. Docile once more, no longer shooting beams from their eyes and threatening to destroy the human race.

Ranboo jerks at the sound of a thud. Then another. Five bodies, five thumps. He spins around, gaze flitting from one person to another. He lets out a sob, but no tears come. Be they friends or enemies, Ranboo cannot…He cannot bear this. They don’t deserve to have their life taken from them, not when they have willingly given it up to save so many…

Wilbur, Puffy, Leon, Techno, Tommy…

Ranboo kneels at the base of the pillar, head lowered, arms wrapped around himself. What is this feeling? What is this surge of sorrow constricting his chest?

“Please,” Ranboo’s voice comes out hoarse. Choked. “There must be a way to reverse this. They are good people. They don’t have to die. They don’t have to…this is not fair!”

Ranboo raises his head to the glimmering stone at the top of the pillar. “Don’t you see? These people gave their lives up for the sake of their brethren. They are not selfish! People have changed and evolved! There must be a way to reward them for their selfless sacrifice!”

A moment of silence passes, then a chorus of voices rings in Ranboo’s head. Of voices both high and low, steady and sure.

“We, the Azran, hear your pleas, Ranboo, our emissary. You have journeyed with these people and learned their ways of life. In your judgement we trust. If you truly wish to bring your friends back, we are capable of doing so.”

“Then what must I do?”

“One final puzzle lies before you. A puzzle that will determine the fate of the people whose lives you wish to return to their mortal engines.”

As if in response, the pillar that Ranboo kneels before blinks to life once more. Symbols are inscribed on its curved surface, symbols that Ranboo recognizes.

“Heed our words, dear emissary, and we will fulfil your wish.”

<Puzzle: The Azran Legacy>

Before Ranboo lies several symbols: an hourglass, a harp, a scale balance and a bow and arrow. He must touch them in the appropriate order according to the Azran’s final poem.

“ Justice inspires the bard,
His song for the warrior echoes through time
War ends, restoring balance
But time changes everything.

By learning from the past
you may direct the future.

And hope comes when only time remains. ”

Ranboo touches the final symbol, and the pillar rumbles. No, not just the pillar, the entire platform is shaking. The walls are glowing, strings of gold attaching themselves to the limbs of Ranboo’s fallen comrades, lifting them to their feet like puppets.

Ranboo sinks to the ground in pure relief, as a wave of exhaustion washes over him. Lethargy drags at his arms and legs. He has done it. He has brought his friends back to life.

And never again shall their fate be decided by people of times past.

Chapter Text

“Ranboo?”

Tommy rubs at his eyes, staring ahead at the figured hunched over the pillar. Tommy glances around. Wait a minute. He thought he was supposed to be dead!

“Tommy! Wilbur!” Ranboo lifts his head, eyes shining. Not just his eyes, but his whole body, violet particles gathered and coiled around his torso, his shoulders, his head.

“Ranboo, what are you…?” Tommy starts.

“I-” Ranboo stumbles to his feet. Puffy grabs his arm, steadying him.

“The Azran’s secrets have been unlocked,” Wilbur says. “Ranboo is…you have accomplished what you have been built to do.”

“Built?” Tommy turns to stare between Wilbur and Ranboo. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not one of the Azran people,” Ranboo says, shaking his head. “I’m not even alive.”

“But you’re standing here and speaking with us right now.” Tommy furrows his brows. “How can you not be alive?”

“I’m a golem. The Enderian race, built by the Azrans,” Ranboo says. His skin glows, bathing him in an ethereal light. “My role was to guide people seeking the Azran legacy to find the aura stones, and finally, here.”

“The Azrans were very technologically advanced,” Techno says, folding his arms. “And so they built the golems.”

“To serve them, yes,” Ranboo says. “We were the Enderian. Unbreakable golems that can withstand heat, pressure…just about anything. We were to help the Azran people with menial tasks, so they could focus on more important projects.”

“But the golems became sentient,” Wilbur continues.

“And they revolted against their creators,” Ranboo says with a nod. “They began tearing down the Azran civilization, and the Azran people had to seal the golems away in this sanctuary.”

“And if we released the golems into the world,” Leon says, bitterness in his tone, “then the Azrans would deem the human race unworthy and slaughter them all with the golems.”

Ranboo nods.

Who do the Azran think they are? God? What right do they have to pass judgement on others? Especially others who came after them?

“Ranboo! What’s happening to you?”

Puffy grasps Ranboo’s wrist, the mechanical bits fading away into specks of white flowing in the wind.

“Ranboo?” Tommy’s voice is soft, trembling.

Ranboo smiles. The first smile that Tommy has ever seen on his face. A smile of sadness, but also of relief.

“I am the emissary of the Azran people,” Ranboo says. “Now that humans have proved that they have evolved and grown, my purpose is fulfilled. I have no more reason to stay.”

“Are you leaving us?” As much as Ranboo had been a naïve child at times, Tommy does not want to see him go. He does not want to entertain the idea of seeing someone he has forged a bond with just…disappear like that.

The permanence of farewells frightens him.

“I have to,” Ranboo says. “I can no longer stay with you guys, but I’m sure you’ll do fine. You’re all great people.”

Wilbur bows. “Thank you for all your assistance, Ranboo. We are glad to have had you on our journey.”

Ranboo smiles. “Maybe we’ll meet again when I’m born again. As a human, this time.”

Ranboo’s body shatters before their very eyes. Within seconds, he becomes bits of white carried by the wind. Tommy watches in silence, unsure of what to say, or if he should say anything at all.

It is time to leave once and for all. It is time to leave the Azran legacy right where they found it.

Where it would remain untouched for centuries to come.

*

Ponk slaps a set of handcuffs over Leon’s wrists, rolling his shoulder and grumbling about the throbbing pain that Leon’s men have caused him. Leon says nothing in response. Instead, he angles his head to look at Wilbur.

“Theodore. Theodore Bronev. I thought you should know that’s your real name.”

Wilbur’s back is turned to him, shoulders hunched as he faces the setting sun.

“My name is Wilbur Soot,” Wilbur says, “and my parents are Ronald and Lucille Soot.”

Leon falls silent, staring at the ground.

“You are not my father, but maybe we’d meet again. As fellow archaeologists.”

At that, Leon smiles, before being led away. Tommy glances around. They seem to be missing someone. Puffy is here with them, Wilbur…

Where did Techno go? Did the slippery eel slink off while they were not looking?

Dammit.

“Come on, Tommy. Puffy. We have an office to get back to,” Wilbur says.

“We’re going to have to get a helicopter ride from Inspector Ponk, though,” Puffy says, jabbing a thumb at the preoccupied officer. Tommy sighs.

“Wilbur, Techno’s gone.”

“I know. He left with Phil a while ago.”

Tommy gapes at him. “And you didn’t stop him?”

“I didn’t see the need to,” Wilbur says with a shrug. “Besides, I’m old, I’m frail. I’m twenty-three years old, Tommy. I think Techno could have knocked me out with a blow to the head.”

“Yeah, you are quite old, but Phil’s even older.”

Wilbur snorts. It is then that Puffy jogs over to them, informing them that one of the helicopters is ready for boarding. Wilbur makes quick strides over to the vehicle, leaving Tommy to run along after him.

Back to London they go.

*

“You’re really leaving?” Tommy cries.

Puffy stands at the entrance of Wilbur’s office, amidst the pieces of paper and books strewn on the ground. She grips the handle of her luggage in one hand, the other pressed against the doorjamb.

“Yeah, I am,” Puffy says. “I don’t think I can be Wilbur’s assistant, considering what I’ve done…”

“Yeah, you were being a pretty sh-” Tommy clams up at the scathing look Wilbur is shooting him.

Wilbur turns to Puffy. “So, what are you going to do now?”

“Go on a journey. Find myself. That sort of thing,” Puffy says with a beaming smile. “I’m going to come back, though, and when I do, I’m going to make sure I’m worthy of being your assistant.”

“Just make sure not to knock anyone down with your motorcycle,” Wilbur says with a smirk. “Now, off with you.”

Puffy laughs. “Cold much?”

“You know me.”

With a wave, Puffy is out the door, strolling down the university hallway. How uneventful, that was. What was Tommy really expecting, though? A teary farewell? A grand exit?

“Well then,” Wilbur says. “Until Puffy returns, I can count on my other assistant now, can I?”

“Your better assistant.”

Wilbur chuckles. “My subpar assistant. The Tesco version.”

“Excuse me? You are insulting me right now, Wilbur, and I don’t like it.”

The afternoon is filled with banter, with laughter and conversation while sorting Wilbur’s office out.  When they finish, the duo heads off down the streets of London. Stomachs growling, appetites ready to be satiated.

“Where are we going to eat, Wilbur? I’m hungry.”

“The fish and chips place. The one by the Thames.”

“I was thinking of sushi. You got it wr-”

Someone bumps into Tommy’s arm. He glares at the offender, eyes growing wide when he realizes just who he is staring at.

Ranboo looks down at him. Ranboo, in the flesh, minus the black-and-white colouration of his skin. He looks like an ordinary human, clutching a book to his chest and carrying a backpack.

He dips his head, mumbling an apology, before disappearing into the crowd.

“Was that…?” Tommy stares at the spot where Ranboo, or the Ranboo lookalike, dived into the sea of people. “I didn’t…”

“Fate works in mysterious ways,” Wilbur says delicately. “Come on, Tommy. I’m starving.”

Tommy forces himself to turn away and chases after Wilbur. Fate does work in mysterious ways indeed, like in the case of the Azran. They were such a strange race. They plot to destroy the world with their twisted sense of judgement and superiority, and yet, if not for the Azran, Tommy would never have met Wilbur. He would never have met Puffy, Techno, Ranboo…or any of these other amazing people (Techno is a little iffy on this list, of course).

There was joy. There was suffering. But Tommy would not have it any other way.

*

It was five years later that they will receive a strange letter from a man named Augustus Reinhold.

“A rather long letter, innit?” Tommy says, the letter crinkling as he shoves it back into its envelope. The scenery rushes by them, the relaxing green plains a break from the hustle and bustle of the city. Herds of sheep and cows grazing on the swathes of grass. Windmills stand amongst the rippling fields, blades spinning with the strong gusts.

Wilbur keeps his eyes on the road, turning down a corner. “You should have seen his other letters.”

Tommy snorts, turning to stare out the window. The rickety vehicle trundles along the long, winding road, pebbles clacking against its underbelly. Tommy wonders how long Wilbur’s had this ancient contraption.

The car travels down the bumpy road, passing by dense copses of trees that eventually open up to a beautiful landscape. Or, well, it would have been beautiful if not for a giant, ugly tower that’s sprung out of nowhere, reaching high above the clouds. It is accompanied by a cluster of tiny houses, a brick wall erected around the borders of the village.

“What the fuck is that? Is that St. Mystere?” Tommy asks.

“Looks like it.”

It is not just the perimeter walling that surround the settlement. Wilbur stops their car right before a canal, its murky waters likely chilly at this time of the year. Their only way in seems to be through a set of heavy wooden doors past a narrow drawbridge.

“You sure this is the place, Wilbur?”

“Well, it looks plenty mysterious to me,” Wilbur says, alighting from the car.

It was five years later that Wilbur Soot and Tommy Innit would visit the curious village of St. Mystere, to solve the puzzle of the Golden Apple.

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Prologue

Airship's Destination:

Chapter 2: Frozen in Time

A Glacial Gift: 

In the picture provided, there is a fireplace behind the girl where a fire is burning. She can just place the frozen gift box in front of it to melt it.

Cracking Combinations:

The answer is 30.

I'm not sure if there are any tricks for this but I literally wrote down every number from 1 to 60 and tried to see which one can't be divided.

Chapter 3: The Mysterious Boy

Walking on Water:

Left > left > up > right > right > right > down > left > left > left > up > right 

The Celestial King:

Chapter 4: A Day Out In London

Carriages of Justice:

There are three fugitives, and we know that there are no more than one fugitive per car. There are also no fugitives at the first and last cars. Therefore, minimum number of cars: 3 + 2 = 5. To have one officer in each car a fugitive is hiding and one officer on each side, the minimum number of officers must be 5 as well. 

Puzzle Battle vs AntFrost:

1) (A) "Yourself."
2) (C) "He had no particular reaction." 
3) (A) "You are the one who replaced it with fakes."
4) (B) "Part of Targent."

Chapter 5: The Village of Salem

Fowl Food:

For this I literally trial-and-errored it. There's probably a simple trick to this but I don't know what.

A Trio of Trouble: 

The third triplet is hiding in boat 6. Note the level of the water relative to the haul of the boat.

Chapter 6: The Lost City of Mizu

Lovely Pairs: 

G goes to the jungle with D! 

Since we know that everyone goes with a different partner, we are certain that G does not go C. Since B and E are going together, we also know that G is not going with B. That leaves A and D. 

Now, we also know that G is not going to the seaside neither is she going to the canyon. Therefore, G must either be going to the jungle or the prairie. We have done all the elimination we can. What's important now is working out who is going with who. We know B is going with E. Since C is going to the canyon, it cannot be H. That means C is going with F.

With that new knowledge, we realize that A and D, and G and H must now pair up. Since D and H went together before, they cannot go together again. That means that A is going with H and G with D. There are two locations left: the prairie or the jungle. Since A went to the jungle, he cannot go to the jungle again. That means A and H went to the prairie and G and D went to the jungle.

Be my Guest: 

25 guests! 

This one is easy if you know to work backwards. Assuming that the first numbers correspond to the statistics on the 28th, then that means that 25 guests stayed there that night on the 28th. Now, during the day of 28th, 13 guests checked in. Meaning that on the night of the 27th, there are 12 guests. Now, keep working backwards from there and you'll realize that there are 25 guests on the night of the 24th. 

A Knightly Trial: 

44 in total!

There are 22 squares on one side of the banner. Since there is the same design on both sides of the banner, then there must be 44 in total.

Counting Sheep: 

394 sheep!

I'm sorry I have no idea how to do this one lol. I had a method to do it when I was working it out but now I can't remember...

Chapter 7: The Wild West

Cards on the Table:

The card with the club has the diamond on the other side. This puzzle is easy when you realize that one of the cards is double-sided.

The Future Awaits!:

It takes 15 seconds to ascend 4 floors. 24 floors lie between the 1st and 25th floors. Therefore, 24/4 = 6. 6 x 15 seconds = 90s = 1min 30s

Chapter 8: Blockbeard's Coast

Strawberry Sharer: 

A has 8, B has 9, C has 5 and D has 4.

For this one, I started off trying to figure out how many B had, since they asked for "3 times as many as C's", which sounds like a lot considering max number possibly given is 9. There are only 4 possible options: 3, 6 and 9, in which case, C would have asked for 1, 2 or 3 strawberries respectively. C mentions that they want 5 fewer than A and A mentions that they want 1 fewer than B. That would mean that B must have at least 6 strawberries, and if they have 6 strawberries on the dot, then C would have 0. However, each child must receive at least 1 strawberry. So that means B must have 9. 

Once you worked that out, everything will fall into place. A has 1 fewer than B, so A has 8. C has 5 fewer than A, so C has 3, and D has half of A's number, which is 4. 

Tethered Ted: 

Chapter 9: The Pit

A Slippery Surface:

Left > Down > Left > Up > Right > Up > Left > Up > Left > Down > Left > Up > Right > Down > Left

Burger Building: 

Patty jump over bacon > Patty jump over egg > Patty jump over lettuce > Tomato jump over patty > Tomato jump over cheese

Thirst for Answers: 

A likes tea, B likes milk and C likes juice. 

The first advice is nonsense.

Puzzle Battle vs Jackie: 

To win this game, you need to make sure that at the start of your opponent's turn, the number of coins must be a multiple of 4. Therefore, if they pick 1 coin, you pick 3, and if they pick 2, you pick 2. If they pick 1, you pick 3. Continue until all the coins are taken. Since you start with 24 coins, which is also a multiple of 4, let the opponent start first and pick coins as shown above. 

Chapter 10: Into the Nest

Snoozysnore's Plan!: 

Launch the sleeping bombs through the 2nd and the 3rd vents from the top. 

Chapter 11: The Azran Sanctuary

Sprint and Switch: 

Down > Right > Up > Right > Down > Left > Up > Up > Left > Left > Down > Right > Down 

Chapter 12: The Azran Legacy

The Azran Legacy: 

Justice (scales) inspires the bard (harp)
His song for the warrior (bow and arrow) echoes through time (hourglass)
War (bow and arrow) ends, restoring balance (scales)
But time (hourglass) changes everything.

By learning from the past,
you may direct the future.

And hope comes when only time (hourglass) remains.

Chapter Text

I sincerely had a lot of fun writing this series. To think it started off when I was just replaying curious village in february and just went "wilbur as layton and luke as tommy" and could not get that idea out of my head. "They're both British too," I told myself. So I got down to writing. I hadn't expected this series to go past Unwound Future, tbh, and was planning to stop there.

But for some reason, I really wanted to write Miracle Mask too so yeah i continued it. I actually lost the motivation right after finishing Miracle Mask, but I knew I had to at least finish Azran Legacy to tie up the whole second trilogy. I hate to say it, but I slaved through Azran Legacy.

Still, all in all, I'm glad to have written this and had loads of fun. I will be working on other projects now, and hope to see you guys again in the future! : 

Fics that you might like: 

Reach Out to the Truth (Chaptered):

Characters: Tommy, Wilbur, Tubbo, Niki, Technoblade, Quackity, Ranboo, Jack

Tommy heads to L'manberg for a year to stay with his uncle since his parents are out of the country. L'manberg is small and nothing like the city; Tommy dreads the coming year. However, when he discovers a world beyond the television with friends Wilbur, Tubbo and Niki, he is excited to gain newfound powers that could alleviate his boredom. At the same time, a series of murders shake the town, something that had never happened before. Could the TV world, the mysterious Midnight Channel and the murders be connected in some way?

The Mystery of the Blue Screwdriver (Part 1 of series):

Characters: Niki, H. Bomb, Ranboo, Quackity, Eret

When Niki's best friend Ranboo is accused of murder, she must defend him at all costs. Pressing witnesses, exposing lies and using everything in her arsenal to find out the truth.

Hunt of the Pigman (One-Shot):

Characters: Karl Jacobs, Quackity, Technoblade

When confronted with a lost hiker and a serial killer who can perfectly mimic a voice, Karl Jacobs must outsmart the Pigman before he can kill the hiker and himself.