Malik shook his head.
"No. We'll map what we can, mark where things shift, and figure out a pattern."
"You... you think there's a pattern to this?"
"There's always a pattern. You just have to survive long enough to see it."
{Outside The Projection}
"I don't know if they're lucky or just plain unlucky to have picked Altahawul for their little camping spot."
"Right? Not the worst section in the first layer, but definitely not far from it."
"Mhm. Smack in the middle of Ahools, Rocs, and Dandans? Yeah, not exactly a fun vacation for mortals."
"Heh, couldn't agree more."
Most of them kept quiet after that.
They all knew the struggle—almost all of them had been through it themselves.
No one wanted to dredge up those memories. Too embarrassing to relive.
{Inside The Projection}
They spent the next two days trying to figure out the pattern, if there was one.
The only constants were the patch of trees and the cave—they never shifted or disappeared, like little anchors in an otherwise chaotic plane.
Malik leaned against a tree and wiped the sweat from his brow.
"We've got two safe zones. Everything else? No man's land. For now, we stick close unless we absolutely have to go out there."
"Sure big bro... I just don't understand how it could move like that."
"Hell if I know—actually, now that I think about it, shouldn't you know all about this? What happened to your education?"
Showing a smug smile, Sinbad pumped out his chest and declared:
"Hah! I didn't listen!"
Malik gave him a blank stare then looked away, hiding a chuckle.
"Let's just not get caught out there when it shifts again, yeah?"
Time passed and with their immediate goals more or less handled, the two started paying more attention to their monstrous neighbors.
First were the bat-like creatures in the cave.
Malik dubbed them "Nightmares," because, well, they were.
During the day, they slept deep in the cavern, only coming out at night to hunt.
Their movements, though both dead and alive, were coordinated, like a flock of birds.
As expected, their diet seemed to be whatever unlucky critter or Seeker crossed their path.
Next were the river monsters.
Malik got a good look at one on the sixth afternoon, when he climbed the tallest hill he could find.
At first, he thought it was just an oversized, monstrous shark.
But nope, he'd been tricked. Fooled. Straight-up bamboozled.
This thing wasn't even close to a shark—at least, not below the eyes.
"Alien" was the only word that came to mind.
He wasn't exactly a Ten Seas expert, but even he could tell these things were way off the norm.
Sinbad, ever the wordsmith, dubbed them "Riverbastards," and honestly?
Malik couldn't think of a more accurate name.
They didn't bother with land, but anything that got too close to the water was fair game.
Then there were the birds.
Colossi, winged beasts that soared high above, their cries echoing across the landscape. Malik watched one dive down and snatch up some "Riverbastard" in its talons before disappearing into the sky.
"Skybastards," Sinbad called them, keeping the theme alive.
Malik just shrugged and rolled with it.
By the end of the week, they had pieced together a rough idea of the monsters' habits and territories.
It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep them breathing—for now.
The seventh day started like all the others—a question-and-answer session between the two.
"So what are we doing today?"
Malik sat at the entrance of the cave, arms resting lazily on his knees as he stared out at the horizon.
"...I'd say we get some wood, try to make a few tools."
Sinbad, sitting cross-legged next to him, nodded slowly, though his face didn't match his agreement.
"A-Are we still not gonna try calling on a Seeker?"
Malik turned sharply, locking eyes with the boy.
"Is that what you've been thinking about for the past few days?"
Sinbad shifted under the weight of his gaze.
Annoyed, Malik smacked the kid's back.
"Bastard stop stuttering."
"Whatever... look. We can't risk it. I don't know how popular you Al-Sayf are, but those Seekers? They're opportunistic fuckers. They'd rape a monster if it meant getting a Holy Relic out of it, never mind taking two dumb kids hostage."
Sinbad's eyes dimmed.
"...Are... are they really that bad?"
Malik's expression softened, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"You don't know the half of it, bud. Trust me."
He pushed himself up, stretching lazily.
"Uwwaaaaah~!... Now let's go. Wood doesn't gather itself."
With that, the two trekked toward the edge of the patch, searching for more manageable-sized trees to break or haul back.
They had barely started—Malik kicking at a stubborn branch and muttering curses under his breath—when the sky decided to hit them with something new.
A shadow fell across them.
Out of nowhere, something—someone—came falling down from the darkness like some divine messenger.
Well... not quite divine.
The figure—no, the man—was using a Holy Relic.
Some weird contraption that looked like a janky, glowing parachute.
Malik's heart skipped a beat.