Chapter 18 – Echoes Among the Ruins
Arc A: Frank & Doug – Footsteps in the Dust
La Jar's midday sun shimmered off the chrome rooftops and neon banners, casting long, wavering reflections across cobblestone streets. Frank strolled through a busy shopping quarter—hover‑carts darted overhead, digital billboards projected artisans demonstrating sculpting spells, and steam‑driven cranes unloaded metal girders onto reconstruction sites. Every block he passed repaired a bit more of the city's shattered face.
He paused at a corner seventy feet from the crater. Two days earlier, he'd pored over ink‑stained tomes in the grand library, learning that this world's faiths varied by realm. He remembered tracing his finger across a scroll illustrating Velmora, the Goddess of Death, her skeletal wings wrapped in mourning shrouds. Nearby, a golden mural of Yuleen, the Goddess of Life, depicted sunlight bursting through newborn leaves. And in a cryptic margin, the name Grohlak, God of War, glowed in red ink—credited with granting the first warriors their skills.
He shook his head. Fragmented beliefs, just like Earth.
Looking around the recovering blocks, he whispered, "Hard to believe all that's left is… this." He stepped forward.
Out from a side street ambled a tall man in worn boots and a battered Stetson. His drawl was slow and deliberate as he called out, "I was ten blocks away with my sis when it went off… thought I lost my hearing."
Frank turned. The stranger's silver‑black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and a pair of digital goggles rested on his forehead.
"Doug, right?" Frank ventured, extending a hand.
Doug tipped his hat and clasped it. "Short fer Douglas. And you don't look local. Tourist?"
"More or less," Frank replied. "Came here with friends."
Doug's eyes flicked to the construction drones overhead. "Sure you are. I've called this city home a while." He leaned closer, voice low. "Love every scrap of it."
Frank laughed. "I'm off to buy groceries for my little sister—she's… particular about meals."
Doug grinned. "Well then, partner, I ain't got nothin' on today. Mind if I tag along?"
They set off together, passing rows of neon‑lit stalls hawking sizzling meat skewers and bioluminescent fruit.
A few minutes later, they ducked into a narrow alley.
Doug checked the back of his stetson. "Frank—why the long face?"
Frank paused, sifting through his thoughts. "I've got… choices piling up. Feels like the universe expects me to be a hero… but I'm no warrior."
Doug's posture softened. He tightened a strap on a braided earpiece. "Son, sometimes it ain't the weight of the world that breaks ya… it's the idea that you can't walk away. Remember: you're the one writin' your story. No one else."
Frank's jaw clenched in thought. Doug slapped his back. "I'll leave you with that."
Doug's earpiece buzzed.
"Douglas, why the hell didn't you apprehend the target? He was right beside you—"
Doug held up a finger. "Grace, calm down. I already got the bounty in possession."
Grace's voice hissed, "That was a risk—"
Doug cut the call. He pocketed his comm. "There ain't no way they're takin' my boy Frank."
He winked, lifted his hat, and strode off.
Frank exhaled, running a hand through his hair. That's… the hardest advice I've heard.
He turned back toward Merchant Square.
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Arc B: Supper at the Inn & Shadows Watching
The inn's main hall glowed with amber lanterns and holo‑tapestries depicting past White Knight victories. A soft hum of magical wards mixed with the clink of cutlery and gentle laughter. The team gathered around a long oak table: Raymond, Elias, Kaido, Tayla, Joel, and Frank.
Joel emerged from the kitchen hatch carrying steaming bowls of savory stew—chunks of roasted root vegetables, braised beast meat, and a swirl of tangy broth.
"Tonight's special," Joel announced. "Hearty stew with spiced melon rolls." She set a platter down.
Kaido raised an eyebrow. "You're killin' me with these fancy names."
Raymond smirked. "Better than instant rations."
Frank dipped his spoon. The rich flavors filled his senses. "Joel… this is amazing."
Tayla leaned back. "Listen to that. Raymond, you ever think about thanking the chef?"
Raymond chuckled. "Consider it done."
They ate in easy rhythm until Frank suddenly paused, bowl halfway to his lips. "You know… the last time I ate something this good was back in my world."
Tayla laughed. "Back in your world? Like… mafia trade?"
Frank's cheeks reddened. "No—just home. Small town. Didn't mean—sorry."
Elias watched Frank ponder. He's still got that homesick edge.
Kaido teased, "Champion missing Earth already?"
Frank wagged a finger. "I'm not the queen of kitchens, all right?"
Joel cleared her throat. "Speaking of worlds… legends say transmigration is real. I read ancient tomes on Yuleen's rites—life, death, rebirth."
Tayla leaned forward. "Didn't know you went to an all‑girls academy."
Joel shrugged. "Elite school. Texts on Velmora, Yuleen, Grohlak, even Saphira, Goddess of Knowledge. It's how I got interested in magic theory."
Raymond's smile turned bittersweet. "I… never went to school."
Frank grinned. "Well, I attended the most elite back home, too—just never finished."
Tayla snorted. "Like me, stuck under a family heirloom."
Kaido folded his arms. "Council said we'll wrap up here by the weekend."
Raymond nodded. "Back to Golden Clove."
Kaido sighed. "Can't wait to sleep in my own bed."
Elias raised a spoon. "No more hover carts?"
Frank winked. "Only if you miss the smell of my cooking disasters."
They laughed, the sound weaving through the wards guarding them.
---
Elsewhere: Spike's Squad
In a crumbling warehouse lit by sporadic neon tubes, Spike, Bill, Astrid, and two others huddled over a holo‑map. Bill's fingers danced across icons marking the team's last known positions.
Bill grinned. "Finally got eyes on 'em—eight miles west in Sector 9."
Astrid spat on the floor. "Took too long."
Spike paced, bandaged arms crossed. "Leader Jack wanted them in one piece. Keep it tight."
Bill winked. "Roi's paycheck waits for no one."
Astrid rolled her eyes. "Your charm's useless here."
Bill shrugged. "Fine by me—just make sure your blade purrs when it meets 'em."
A shadow flickered by the cracked window.
Spike froze. "Something's watching."
Bill adjusted a micro‑drone controller. "Maybe it's the wind, darlin'."
Astrid and the others exchanged glances but said nothing.
Spike's eyes narrowed. "Stay sharp."
They melted into the darkness, each with their own thoughts of Frank's uncertain fate.
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To Be Continued…