Luckily, all masters had trackers, and Olmo, the Combat Master, had activated his before entering the portal, so a trigger was sent to the other masters signaling that he had stepped into a dangerous gateway. The alert blinked across every master’s device simultaneously, each pulse of light demanding imdiate attention. Within minutes, the academy grounds were abuzz with tension as the masters convened in the main hall, leaving their classrooms and students behind.
The eting was called imdiately, all classes suspended for the day. The normally orderly academy humd with an unusual sense of urgency as the masters gathered, forming a circle around the central conference table. Every face in the room bore a mixture of concern and calculation, each one weighing the implications of Olmo’s sudden action. Whispers of speculation filled the room as they awaited the analysis from the senior masters.
They discussed Olmo entering the portal, debating what reasons he might have for rushing in and triggering his tracker. So suggested he had detected an imdiate threat that required his unique skills, while others feared he had been drawn into an unstable or hostile dinsion. Every theory was weighed carefully, each master drawing from years of experience, but none could definitively state the dangers Olmo faced. His reputation as the academy’s strongest combat master was well-known, but even he was not invincible against the unknown perils of dinsional travel.
After a tense deliberation, they agreed that a small team of masters needed to enter the portal to locate Olmo and assess the situation. The decision was strategic; sending too many could create chaos, while too few could result in disaster if the threat proved significant. It was clear that whoever went would need to act quickly, moving with both caution and efficiency.
Master Rein, a tall woman with a commanding presence and a curvy fra, stepped forward, her sharp eyes scanning the plans laid out before them. Master Dumo, a short but muscular man, flexed his fingers instinctively, already anticipating the physical demands of the mission. Master Sunny, a slim figure with striking green hair, adjusted the straps on his utility belt, his movents precise and thodical. These three were chosen for their complentary skills: Rein’s strategic mind, Dumo’s brute strength, and Sunny’s agility and adaptability.
Without hesitation, they began preparations. Equipnt was checked, weapons readied, and protective charms secured. Each master moved with practiced efficiency, their urgency underscored by the knowledge that Olmo was already sowhere beyond their reach, facing unknown dangers.
xxxx
In the oppressive heat of the forbidden city, Mira and Jelo pressed onward, their search for Dabba growing more desperate by the hour. The streets were littered with crumbling stone and twisted tal, and the sun beat down relentlessly, casting everything in a harsh, shimring glare. Mira’s pace had slowed considerably, her steps dragging against the uneven ground. She could feel the exhaustion settling deep in her muscles, a bone-deep fatigue that made every movent painful. "My body... it aches," she admitted, her voice heavy with strain. "I feel so tired... I don’t know if I can keep going much longer."
Jelo, in contrast, strode ahead with surprising ease. The heat seed to invigorate him rather than drain him. His chest felt open, his limbs charged with energy, as if the sun itself had injected vitality into his veins. Watching Mira struggle, he felt a surge of protective resolve. "Here," he said gently, stopping and placing a firm hand on her arm. "You don’t have to walk anymore. I can carry you."
Mira’s eyes widened in protest. "No, I can manage," she said, shaking her head. She wanted to appear strong, not reliant on anyone, even if her body was screaming for rest.
But as the minutes passed and the scorching sun continued to sap her strength, her resistance weakened. Her steps grew slower, and her body began to falter. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, she allowed herself to be lifted. Jelo scooped her up in a bridal position, holding her securely against his chest. She was startled by how effortlessly he carried her, as though her weight were far less than it felt to her. Jelo, too, looked down, a hint of surprise in his expression. "You’re lighter than I expected," he remarked quietly.
Mira wrinkled her nose. "Why didn’t you just carry on your back? That would have been easier," she muttered, still feeling a flicker of pride even as she rested in his arms.
Jelo’s gaze t hers, calm and steady. "Because the sun is partly why you’re weak," he explained. "If you were on my back, your body would still be exposed. Carrying you like this shields you, keeps you out of the heat, and helps you regain strength while I support you."
As he said this, Mira gradually beca aware of a new sensation: the warmth of the sun no longer beat down on her face. She looked up and realized with a start that Jelo’s massive fra was acting as a shield, blocking the sun entirely. The realization made her pause in her thoughts, astonished. When had he grown so tall, so broad, so impossibly muscular? Was this... the system evolution at work?
Her mind raced as she studied him more closely. His shoulders were broad and strong, his arms thick with power, and the way he moved was fluid yet commanding. The transformation was astonishing. Mira’s eyes traveled upward, taking in the lines of his face, the set of his jaw, the sharpness of his features. He was... undeniably handso. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought, and she imdiately felt a twinge of self-consciousness. Here she was, being carried in such an intimate and vulnerable position, and her thoughts had betrayed her into noticing him in a way that made her cheeks heat. She blushed, aware of how exposed she felt in his arms.
Jelo kept his gaze firmly ahead, walking with asured steps as if nothing were amiss. But from the corner of his eye, he sensed her attention lingering. He caught a glimpse of the look on her face—her eyes studying him, her mouth slightly parted in awe—and then, she looked away sharply and blushed.
Outwardly, he maintained a straight, unyielding expression, his focus on the path ahead. Inwardly, however, he cringed. "So scandalous."
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