Joy Pursuit: Steel Dragon [Sci-Fi Fantasy | Horror | Action]

Pax stared at his hand, the Kyyr recoiling tightly around his fingers, ribbons of light pooling and folding into his palm. Tense emotion funneled inward—gathering into a single confluence of that sickly memory of black beyond the grave. Aware yet trapped in the lingering echo of his own death, he felt the cold whisper of it, the sheer needling pain.

Something had broken.

But he wasn't alone as his fellow rangers and researchers all held themselves as they too suffered from the grievous memory of death that was now forever carved into their minds.

Black constructs receded into nothingness as Bayren landed on the metal walkway with a clang. His monstrous form, gaunt and unsightly—yet—in that moment, in the eyes of Pax, he saw the apotheosis of glory. His eyes grew wide as his heart accelerated in awe of the black-scaled beast that dared defy the laws and logic of the universe.

Bayren approached the shaken group. "I'll help with evac. So please get your things ready." he said, the cracks across his face parting as new constructs erupted from his feet, shaping themselves into a charcoal-black sled. "Kyxx—help me with the deceased." He gestured toward Thale and the three unresponsive researchers.

The mechanoids moved without hesitation, their compliance jolting the others into action. And in a couple of minutes, everyone had packed and boarded the sled. Except one. Pax stared intently at the Calamity Entity, his eyes obsessing over every crack and scale.

Bayren noticed the young ranger. "Are you alright, kid?" he asked, looming over him.

"A-ah—I-I'm fine." Pax stammered. "J-just… overwhelmed." he said, hiding his excitement with the professional conjecture of the ranger corps.

Bayren parted his jaws."It happens. Especially after the… harsher deaths." He said, his words carrying a distant sympathy. "I've never experienced it myself, but I've come to understand that returning from death leaves a mark. It's almost always positive though, it makes them lead lives with less regret." He reached into the folds of his cloak and produced a small wrapped candy, pinched delicately between two clawed fingers. "You can't eat it now," he said, offering it with a faint shrug, "but maybe it'll help steady your nerves later." Bayren paused, "Uh—sorry. I don't think I caught your name?"

Pax hesitated, his eyes flickering between the candy and Bayren's arm before he reached out and grabbed both at once. "My name is Hugo—Hugo Á. Pax."

Bayren pulled him upright with effortless strength. "Pax?" His visage cracked. "Is your father Lead Researcher Solan Pax?"

"Y-yes…" Pax swallowed, nerves and excitement tangling in his chest. "H-he talks about you a lot. Because you saved him too. A long time ago."

Bayren sighed as he reminisced, the memory of flashing fire—the echoing roar of the forsaken Dragon. "I remember." His shattered gaze replaying the event in his mind. "I witnessed it—the hatred and fire." His jaws crackled. " I missed the beast by a mere 13 seconds—leaving only death in its wake." Bayren's cracks narrowed as he replayed the events. "Sorry… " His tone softened, heavy but sincere. "If you need anything… don't hesitate to ask."

He put a warm hand on his shoulder before walking away toward the front of the black sled.

Pax held the candy tight, staring at it as a rush of dubious conceptions and self-made delusions flooded his mind.

The events within the depths of Himadri's ice, though traumatic for those who lived through them, were far from unusual. In time, the incident settled into memory as nothing more than a curious report of a rogue Carboxarax wandering far beyond its known domain.

But to one ranger, it had been the most defining moment of his life—a moment of clarity that finally let him see eye to eye with the man he called his father. A man he'd once found obsessive and disgusting. A man he was growing into.

And there was Rusk.

He shoved the final bundle of his belongings into a suitcase and breathed out in shaky relief, the transfer approval echoing in his thoughts—his ticket out of this miserable icy pit. With what little emotion he still had left for this place, he stepped out of his dorm room, offering half-hearted waves to a few ORPA Sapphire Corps members who glanced up as he passed.

Due to Himadri's brutal conditions, rangers stationed there were given the option to cycle out regularly, with transfer windows opening every 8 months. Rusk had to spend 4 long months grinding himself into any task, any duty, anything that kept him from being forced to descend into the black. It had been 4 months since the Carboxarax incident, yet the frigid, tearing sensation of death had only sunk deeper and deeper into the roots of his mind.

Rusk boarded the newly established sky-train that encircled all of Aeburgh. He glanced up at the display screen, noting the short travel time to the Translate Port. Relief washed through him as he slid into a seat, pulling his single suitcase between his legs before leaning his head against the cold glass. Outside, the colorfully lit—now fully fledged—city of Aeburgh drifted past below.

I can't believe Locke… that spirited idiot kept going down there till he died. That fool. Makes me wonder what happened to the others; they were from different units… I hope Pax managed to get out of this claustrophobic nightmare. Rusk checked the time on his crystalcomm. He was early for his departure. "Ugh…"

He had 4 hours to kill. He stared out at the shimmering city, his gaze eventually settling on the Ranger Station beside the now-massive Research Center.

I have the time so… "Why the hell not?" he muttered to himself.

Rusk settled back into the soft seating of the sky-train, letting the quiet hum of the rails vibrate through his spine. His eyes drifted lazily across the overhead display as the markers for each station blinked to life and faded again, one after another, until finally the indicator for the Research Center pulsed into view.

With nothing but mild curiosity and several hours to burn, he stepped off the train and into the station's chilled air.

He'd been here before, usually on escort duty, or running basic maintenance checks, and of course during the few miserable occasions he was forced to descend into the Pit of Styx. But he had never once set foot in the sister Ranger Station connected directly to the void.

After orienting himself on the nearest map display, he made his way toward the incredibly similar building of the Styx Ranger Station.

The lobby was dim and cavernous, shadows pooling under scattered equipment. Without much of a plan, Rusk drifted toward a familiar black stone at its center. Coiled around a jagged protrusion of rock was an Endymion Kyxx. Its plated jaws hung slightly open, and its lone red eye glowed faintly scanning him with alien intent.

Rusk walked to the mechanoid, clearing his throat. "Hi, I'm ranger Rusk Holt and I'm looking for a fellow ranger by the name of Hugo Pax."

The Kyxx tilted its head with a soft, unsettling click. "Verified—Hugo?" Its single eye pulsed once. "Located. Ranger Hugo Ámon Pax requested transfer a couple months ago. He is no longer in this facility."

Rusk let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Hopefully he ended up on some sunny world," he muttered.

The Kyxx rotated its head further—its lower jaw twisting until it was nearly upside-down. "Your hopes are null. Ranger Pax was eligible for a Kyyr promotion and elected to enter service under Lord Bayren Emperar. He is now a registered crew member of the Nordos Starglider."

"What?" Rusk stared at the mechanoid, his voice cracking. "H-he's still… here?"

"Correct."

"I see…"

Rusk left the station and made his way back to the sky-train platform. As the train pulled in, he glanced out toward the dimly lit rose-gold hull of the Nordos Starglider looming over the port, its metal skin catching what little light the city offered. Why would he do that? After dying… who the hell chooses to work for a Calamity Entity?

And as Rusk boarded the sky-train, not far beyond the rippling Translate gate, a thin metallic hand, held together by nothing but raw Kyyr, burst from the Curved Sea. Its needle-like fingers crushing the edge of the steel dock, warping metal like wet clay. In one slow, fluid motion, the creature pulled itself up and crawled upside-down beneath the dock, its elongated limbs clattering softly against the steel. Hidden from sight, it skittered toward the outer Translate port, creeping its way through the shadows as it advanced toward the cold glow of the Himadri Translate.

Rusk arrived at the port with time to spare. He drifted along the rows of massive warehouses that dominated the cold metal bay, the clatter of machinery echoing off the steel and blending with the distant noise of the city. As he followed the walkway, he noticed a brightly lit zone ahead; lights climbing and spiraling up the trunks of colossal lamp posts that kind-of looked like trees, their branches glowing with green strips of illumination.

The cold industrial silence gave way to a warmer hum. The further he walked, the more he realized he'd stepped into the commercial sector of the port. Shops, small restaurants, and clusters of amenities lined the brightly lit streets. People wandered in loose crowds, their voices mixing with music, chatter, and the distant thrum of departing vessels.

He walked along the streets, and—

THUMP!

"Ouch!" a little girl yelped as she bounced off him and landed flat on the frosted plating.

"Woah there, are you okay?" Rusk asked, stepping toward her.

She was bundled up well enough that the fall didn't hurt her, but her nose had slammed into his leg with surprising force. She rubbed it with a wince, then looked up at the concerned ranger. She sniffled. "Yeah, I'm okie… you should watch yourself, Mister."

"Huh? But you ran into me," Rusk said, offering her his hand.

"That's 'cause you walk slow! And now Sis and Mr. Creep are gonna catch me!" she complained as she let him pull her up.

Sis? Mr. Creep?! "Is your sister okay? Who's this Creep?" Rusk asked, concerned.

The little girl brushed ice off the back of her coat. "He's the creepy guy that works for my daddy. He's always following us around."

He must be their babysitter or caretaker… Meaning she's likely from an affluent family. "What are you doing out here on your own? This place isn't really safe."

The little girl grumbled. "We were just playing a game! And it's not like losers like you can do anything to me! I'm plenty strong, you know."

Rusk's left eye twitched. If there was one thing he dreaded more than the tunnels of Himadri, it was dealing with chatty children. "But… even if you're strong, it's still dangerous for someone your age to be running around a place like this! What if you ran into a bad man? Or an unfriendly Diodecian?"

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

She tugged down her fluffy hood, revealing dark purple hair and bright crimson-pink eyes. "Then my daddy or Mister Jack will turn them inside out!" she said with a cheery smile.

"Ohh. That's… a little graphic." Wait. Turn them inside out? And there's a guy named Jack…?

The little girl kept talking, unfazed. "Also, also, I barely ever get to leave home." She pointed proudly toward the distant Nordos Starglider. "So whenever Daddy leaves, me and my sister go out and play!"

Rusk's eyes widened as a terrifying theory punched straight through him. Is she…?! HIS!? He looked down at the little girl, throat tight. "Hey, uh… sorry, what's your name, little girl?"

"I'm Lamia! What's your name Mister?"

"N-nice to meet you, Miss Lamia. I'm Rusk—a ranger. And umm… question. Your daddy's name, it wouldn't happen to be Bayren?"

"Yeah! Do you know him!?"

OH! OH NO. Rusk theory punched him in the gut with confirmation. This girl's a danger to everyone here! If she gets hurt or goes missing, sweet Symbols, Bayren could tear the entire port apart. "A-ah, well… kind of. He saved my life a long time ago when I was down in the pit," Rusk said, trying not to sound like his heart was about to implode.

"Just like Mr. Creep! Hmm… you look kinda weak for a ranger though."

"Ehh?" I do? I mean—I've never been too confident, and I don't have any unique Kyyr abilities, but—wait! Why am I humoring this little girl? I need to get her back to safety before some opportunistic trash gets everyone here killed! "W-well rangers have all sorts of different jobs," he managed. "I'm more of a defensive type."

"Really? Then can you defend this?"

"Defend wha——?"

WHAM!

Lamia had pulled back her tiny arm and punched Rusk in the side of the leg with every ounce of her strength. His eyes watered instantly as a sharp, electric sting shot up his thigh, buckling him onto his suitcase.

"Ohhh—" He sucked in a hoarse, pained breath. What the hell? This little girl—

"Hehe, you suck at defending, Mister," Lamia laughed, delighted.

This little bi—NO. Calm down, Rusk. You are a ranger! A gentleman. BUT OH SYMBOLS DOES THAT HURT! What the hell is she made out of? Was that Kyyr? Rusk forced an unsteady breath, straightening himself with as much dignity as he could salvage. He swallowed the pain and managed a shaky smile. "Y-you weren't kidding about being strong."

"Told ya! Props to you, old guy! You took that better than the Creep!" Lamia chirped, patting the exact spot she'd hit.

"Old guy…?" Rusk grumbled. Woe be the poor soul doomed to work with this little fiend. He swallowed the pain, wiping the tears from his eyes with whatever dignity he had left. "M-Miss Lamia, you shouldn't hit people. Also I'm only 24, so I'm not old…" He rubbed his throbbing leg.

"That's super old!" She shouted while pointing at him.

"Nuh-uh!" Rusk shot back before catching himself. He forced a breath and tried again. "Anyway… Miss Lamia, you should go home. There are scary people here, alright? Even if you're freakish—I mean blessed—with that kind of strength, it doesn't mean someone couldn't hurt you."

Lamia smirked. "What kind of idiot would try to hurt me? Everyone here knows my daddy." She shrugged smugly.

Rusk crouched down to meet her eyes. "Even so… that kind of reputation works like a double-edged sword."

"A doubljedge—what?"

"A double-edge," he repeated. "Something that helps you, but can hurt you at the same time."

"How is knowing who my dad is bad?" she demanded, arms crossed.

"Well—"

BOOOOM!

A plume of fire tore down the street toward the port, the shockwave ripping through the district like dragon breath. The initial blast hurled people backward, bodies skidding across the plating as the air itself seemed to combust. Before the screams even started, then the Kyyr hit.

A violent pulse of it slammed into everyone at once, a crushing pressure that dropped bystanders to their knees and knocked several unconscious. People scrambled, slipping over one another as the air warped with another nefarious surge.

Rusk reacted on instinct. He swept his arm up, and a wall of jagged ice erupted between them and the blast just as the Kyyr miasma slammed across the street in brutal, rippling waves.Without thinking, he dropped down and threw his body over Lamia, curling around her as the shockwave hit. The force rattled his bones, the heat licking at his back. Shrapnel screamed past overhead, tearing into walls and smashing through storefronts as the street dissolved into chaos. Screams rose from every direction.

Cough…

Blood splattered across Lamia's white coat as Rusk felt a sharp, shooting pain tear through his back. He forced himself to look over his shoulder while still shielding Lamia.

A jagged piece of metal was buried deep in his back, the impact mangling flesh and armor like paper. The concussive force alone had rattled his insides; he could feel everything shifting wrong. But he pushed more Kyyr through his body anyway, expanding the protective barrier around Lamia and the few bystanders huddled nearby as flames and debris rained down.

"A-are you okay?" he weakly asked.

Lamia stared up at him, stunned, her eyes wide and glossy with fear."M-m-mister, you're bleeding!" she cried, her small hands gripping his coat.

Rusk clenched his jaw, fighting to stay upright as pain flared through his back. At his wrist, his crystalcomm crackled to life with a violent BLARE, the alarm cutting through the chaos.

Confused horror flashed across his eyes. A Hy'Kyyrian? Here!?

BOOOOM!

Another blast of Kyyr struck his barricade, cracking the ice with the unfurling violence. The jagged piece of metal was driven deeper into his back as he expanded his Kyyr as the rising wave of energy engulfed them.

"Ugh…" I need to find shelter for these people! If that thing dominates the local Kyyr my walls won't hold… With a pained gasp, he forced himself to his feet. His hand shot to the shard stabbing his back and he ripped it out! "AGH!" He pulsed his Kyyr in a desperate burst, freezing the wound shut with a sharp hiss of cold. "We… we need to find cover…"

BOOOOM!

Another blast rocked the street.

Rusk's Kyyr surged reflexively, thickening the ice wall as debris slammed into it. "I need to help these people," he muttered through clenched teeth.

Lamia looked at the bloodied ranger, her teary eyes overcome with flourishing conviction. "I can help!" she shouted.

Rusk looked at her with weary eyes. "It's okay… I'll protect you— cough —so just… stay close."

"But I can help! I can carry people! Please—you're bleeding!" She cried, voice cracking with panic.

BOOOOOM!

Rusk's Kyyr spiked as he braced the wall for the impact.

"Thanks… but I'll be fine!" Rusk said weakly, forcing a blood-smeared grin. His Kyyr surged, causing the ice beneath the plating to climb. "I can control ice. And even though I hate this dark frigid hell hole, I can actually shine here!" A sharp pulse ran through the metal street as ice erupted upward, using the metal base to form icy cradles that rose beneath the struggling and the unconscious alike, lifting them away from the ground.

Lamia felt herself rise with the ice as everyone conscious and unconscious was suddenly carried forward by the surging ice.

BOOOOOOM!!!

Rusk spun, teeth clenched, pulling in every scrap of Kyyr he could. Pillars of frost erupted around them, rising in violent bursts to shield the civilians from the incoming debris. The ice carried them onward in a sweeping surge, a tidal wave of frozen Kyyr that kept lifting the struggling and the unconscious farther and farther away from the repeating blasts of energy.

Rusk gritted his teeth, gums bleeding as he pushed himself past his limits, fighting against the violent waves of Kyyr rolling in from some far-off battle. Lamia clung to him, her small hands slipping on his blood-soaked coat.

"Mister, you're going to die!" she cried, her white gloves stained red as she tried to steady him.

Rusk managed a weak, crooked smile through the rising pain. "As if I'd die in this dingy monster cave."

In the distance, a crimson light erupted from the harbor, flaring brighter and brighter until it condensed into a violent red beam. The roaring blast sliced through the support pillars, carving a molten path into the ice above as massive slabs broke free and crashed down onto the Starglider and the harbor below.

Rusk grimaced as he forced his body past anything he'd ever imagined enduring, eyes locking onto the source of the blasts. A Treta'ilk? No… not with that much firepower it has to be a Tri'ilk, possibly of a higher order. I need to move these people. It'll kill them, if not on purpose by accident.

He swept the streets with a frantic glance. The ice formation he was guiding had gathered over 30 people, all packed together on the rising platforms he'd created. Maintaining the structure was devouring his strength; every second, the Kyyr cost spiked higher. Blood poured freely down his back, hot against the cold as he pushed more and more power into the ice.

How far can I go?

I'm dying.

Where do I take them?

It hurts.

He forced more Kyyr through his body, his soul shuddering as it began to crack.

I have to keep going!

I'm going to die.

Come one!

I'm bleeding out.

FASTER! FARTHER!

Again… I'm dying again.

COME ON!

BOOOM!

Another explosion detonated behind him, and massive chunks of ice came crashing down. The ceiling above fractured apart, rubble plummeting as the great support beams along the harbor flared to life; an automatic Kyyr shield snapping into place just in time to keep the falling ice from annihilating the streets below.

OF COURSE! I'M AN IDIOT! THE SUPPORT BEAMS! Rusk snapped his head up, searching wildly. There!

By now the number of people his ice was carrying had grown into a full procession, a shuddering parade of civilians and fellow rangers clinging to consciousness as they tended the wounded sprawled across the rising slabs.

"Mister, you can stop!" Lamia cried. Her coat and gloves drenched in his blood. "We're safe!"

"N-no… Just a little more." Rusk muttered as the nefarious Kyyr of the Hy'Kyyrian kept tearing at the ice wall dragging behind them, stripping layers away faster than he could reinforce them.

His vision blurred, colors bleeding together as a crimson light ripped open the sky above. More ice shattered loose, crashing down onto the support beams' Kyyr membrane.

The cries and screams of the people around him kept Rusk awake. He forced his body to slow just enough to make the turn—and they reached the base of the support beam.

I did it…Rusk thought faintly. I did…

His body finally gave out. Caught by the hands of a particularly strong child.

"HELP!" Lamia screamed, her voice cracking as she held the blood-soaked ranger. "SOMEONE HELP!" Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the flecks of red on her cheeks. "DADDY, PLEASE HELP!"

A bead of blood slid down her cheek, joining her tears.

But—

As if defying gravity, the red returned.

Lamia's eyes widened as a fiery wave of Kyyr swept through the air, the shattered ice around them suddenly rising instead of falling, pulled upward—regressing.

"Daddy!" she cried, staring up at the dark figure standing atop the beak of a massive, charcoal-black reconstruction of a Carboxarax.

Bayren's visage cracked, anger hissing as smoke poured from the cracks all over his body. The raging fire at the port twisted upward, pulled by an unseen force, as a spindly figure drifted through the embers; weightless, skeletal, its form half-devoured by flame.

At its center, a single crimson light spiraled in the firestorm, pulsing with murderous intent.