From Moving Crates to Killing Gods-Chapter 23: Reunion

We approached with caution, moving our bodies with a smooth, silent grace towards the skeletal structure of the tall silver tower. Darien’s team moved with purpose. Not with the defensive postures of people expecting an attack, but with the focused energy of builders.

My mind struggled to make sense of the scene. I’d expected to find them planning escape routes or preparing weapons, they were instead measuring, cutting, and assembling something from scattered materials. The incongruity of it stopped me in my tracks.

"What are they doing?" Kira whispered beside me, her voice barely disturbing the air between us.

"Building something." I replied, while still processing the truth. "But what...?"

Mira signaled for us to continue forward, her eyes fixed on her rival. Darien hadn’t noticed us yet, his back turned as he directed Silas, who stood with his palms pressed against the wall of the structure. As we watched, wooden planks seemed to grow from the surface under Silas’s hands, pulling them from the metal surface of the ceiling.

"Allaran." Mira’s voice was low. "What do you make of this?"

"Those are wing shapes." I said slowly, recognition dawning as I traced the curved, elongated forms scattered around the workspace. "They’re building... flying machines?"

Before Mira could respond, one of Darien’s team spotted us. Ember, her red hair unmistakable even in the dim light. She straightened suddenly and pointed in our direction. The activity below paused, bodies tensing as all eyes turned toward us.

"Hold!" Darien’s command cut through the silence. He glanced in our direction, suspicion gradually giving way to recognition. "Mira? You actually made it?"

The surprise in his voice carried more than simple relief, there was disappointment too, the sound of someone who’d already calculated the odds of our survival and found them wanting.

"Try not to sound so devastated." I called down.

Mira shot me a cold glance before responding to Darien. "We found an alternative route. Where’s the exit?"

Darien’s face darkened. "There isn’t one. Not anymore."

He gestured for us to follow. As we drew closer, the scale of their project became clear. Long, thin wooden frames had been laid out in rough X patterns, with tattered fabric stretched across sections of the frames. Finn sat cross legged on the floor, meticulously cutting cloth on square figures with a broken, sharp pipe.

"What happened to the exit?" Mira asked as we reached the group.

"Corruptors." Darien replied, his voice tight. "At least thirty of them, blocking every ground level exit we’ve found. They seem to be waiting."

I exchanged a glance with Kira. The Corruptors shouldn’t have been gathering somewhere, not unless... they were the ones waiting for the ward to give in and finish the Bloops.

His eyes swept over our group. "Did you encounter any Corruptors inside?"

"We found a different path." Mira said, deliberately vague. I noticed she didn’t mention our newfound friends or the ward. Some instinct of preservation, perhaps, keeping their existence a secret even from our supposed allies.

Darien didn’t press. Instead, he turned back to the wooden frames. "We need to get back to Argent. With the ground routes blocked, we had to get creative."

Now that I was closer, I could see the designs clearly. They weren’t just random constructions, they were hang gliders, crude but recognizable. Eight of them, arranged in various states of completion.

"You’re going to fly." I said, not bothering to hide my disbelief.

"We’re going to fly." Silas corrected, emphasizing the collective pronoun. "All of us." His gaze settled on Petra, who had hung back near Rolen. "And now that you’ve arrived with her, we can actually finish the job."

Petra blinked, startled at being singled out. "Me?"

"Her ability to make things stick." Mira realized, pieces clicking together. "You need her to bind the frames."

"Exactly." Darien nodded. "Silas can create the wood, but without proper binding, these frames would tear apart the moment we launch them." He turned to Petra directly. "Your sticky ability is the key to making these gliders sturdy enough to support us."

I watched Petra’s expression shift from confusion to cautious pride. She had deemed her ability as useless, what value was there in making things stick together? Not much, unless you’re trying to glue a Corruptor’s teeth together while it’s chewing on you. A last, sticky defiance. Yet here, in exile, it had suddenly become essential to our survival.

"Will it work with these materials?" Petra asked, stepping forward to examine the nearest frame.

"Only one way to find out." Silas replied.

He approached, his small stature belying the strength in his arms as he carried another freshly grown wooden plank. "I can make the wood any density you need." he told Petra. "Just tell me what works best with your adhesive."

The group shifted into action, a sudden energy infusing their movements. I stood back, watching as Darien’s team revealed their work with new enthusiasm now that Petra had arrived. The "useless" team had turned out to be carrying the missing piece to their puzzle all along.

"Gliders." Kira murmured beside me, her eyes wide as she saw the wooden frames. The look on her face was a perfect split between hope and raw terror. "But how do we steer them?"

"Not just steer." I cut in, stepping closer to examine the nearest contraption. "How do we keep from spinning straight into the side of a corruptor once we’re dangling from these death traps?" The wooden frame felt solid under my hand, but the "wing" itself was just a patchwork of sun rotted silks and old clothes stripped from the mall’s abandoned stores.

"That’s where I come in." Gale said, his voice uncharacteristically confident. He stepped forward, chest puffed out with pride. "I can create and direct wind currents. If I’m positioned at the front, I can generate a steady tailwind for all of us."

"While holding your breath." I reminded him, recalling the limitation of his ability.

His confidence faltered slightly. "I’ve been practicing. I can hold it longer now, and I’ll take breaks between bursts."

I nodded, not wanting to crush his newfound certainty, even as doubt gnawed at me. This entire plan hinged on so many fragile components.

Petra’s adhesive holding, Silas’s wood remaining strong, Gale’s wind providing enough lift, and all of us somehow managing not to plummet to our deaths at the first sign of trouble.

"What’s the weight limit on these things?" I asked, running my hand along the curved wooden frame of the nearest glider.

"They’ll hold what they need to hold." Darien answered, his eyes already scanning our group, assessing. "But the balance has to be right. A heavy person with a light one, or two who are roughly the same. Put two of the heaviest together and the glider won’t lift. Put two of the lightest together and the wind will toss you like a leaf. We pair carefully, or we don’t fly at all."

The pairing process began immediately, with Darien taking charge, of course. He quickly assessed everyone’s approximate weight, assigning partners with the efficiency of someone arranging cargo.

"I’ll take Allaran." Kira said suddenly, stepping to my side before Darien could assign me elsewhere.

Darien frowned. "You’re both on the lighter side. The balance would be better if—"

"We work well together." Kira interrupted, her voice firmer than I’d ever heard it. "And in the air, that matters more than a few pounds of weight distribution."

Darien’s jaw tightened, but he nodded curtly before moving on to the next pairing. Soon, the entire group had been divided. Darien with Finn, Mira with Yami, Ember with Cobb, Silas with Petra, Lin with Phinyx, Rolen with Coco, Kira with me, and Gale alone. He would be guiding the wind at the center.

"Now we bind them." Darien said, his gaze landing on Petra. "Your turn. Make them one piece."