After the group touches the coin, a brilliant flash of light envelops them, and the sensation of weightlessness overtakes their bodies. Moments later, the light fades, and they find themselves standing in a sleek, modern office. The hum of machinery fills the room, and the cold, metallic walls reflect the strange, orange light from the landscape beyond the large windows. Jagged cliffs rise in the distance, far removed from the tomb they had been navigating moments before.

Before they can process the change, a tall Thornclad—a lizard covered in gleaming emerald scales and sharp spikes—steps out from behind a column. His glowing yellow eyes lock onto them, assessing them with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

“You’re friends of Wallace, are you not?” the Thornclad, Draco, asks, his voice a low, commanding rumble.

Kelvin steps forward, still adjusting to their new surroundings. “You know Wallace?”

Draco nods slowly, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “Wallace was a strange creature, called himself a rabbit. You must be ferrets and a fox, with other rabbits. Rabbits are prey, and you are predators, like us.”

Kelvin stiffens slightly but responds calmly. “We’re not here for that. Things are different where we come from.”

Draco’s expression doesn’t change. “Perhaps. But that’s not why you’ve come. You’re here for something more.” He gestures toward a sleek console on the far side of the room. “I have the device you seek to break the barrier, but before I give it to you, I need you to answer a question.”

Kelvin steps closer, sensing the weight of Draco’s words. “What do you want to know?”

Draco’s yellow eyes narrow as he regards Kelvin. “Why do you think prey, like the Woolwights, are important?”

Before Kelvin can answer, Draco continues, “We nearly wiped them out 400 years ago. We were 20,000, and they were 28 billion. After they destroyed one of their own cities while we were conducting research, we killed 27.8 billion of them in retaliation. Only 200 survived, and over time, they rebuilt. Now, they make up 25% of our population. We didn’t ask if they had value—we’re keeping them around to see why they do. So tell me, Kelvin—why should prey matter?”

Kelvin takes a deep breath, the weight of the history Draco just revealed settling over him. After a moment of thought, he speaks. “Prey, like the Woolwights, have value beyond their physical abilities. They’ve survived impossible odds, which shows their resilience. They bring a perspective that predators don’t have—forced to adapt and evolve in ways we don’t. Their experiences are different, and that difference is valuable.”

Draco listens intently, his expression unreadable.

Kelvin continues, “You’re keeping them around to understand their value, but maybe their importance lies in balancing what power alone can’t. It’s not just about strength. It’s about what happens when strength isn’t enough. The Woolwights survived because they adapted, and that kind of strength, the ability to endure, is just as important.”

Draco nods slowly, though his expression remains thoughtful. “Perhaps. But Wallace would disagree.”

Kelvin frowns, caught off guard by the mention of Wallace. “What do you mean?”

Draco’s eyes harden. “Wallace is mad. He nearly died, and he blames you, Kelvin. He says you risked everyone’s lives, including his, because you wouldn’t rape Mica.”

Kelvin feels the weight of Draco’s words hit him hard, but he doesn’t flinch. He squares his shoulders. “I made a choice. I wasn’t going to violate someone’s trust or boundaries. If Wallace is angry because I wouldn’t cross that line, I’ll face that, but I stand by my decision.”

Draco studies Kelvin carefully. “And if that choice nearly cost all your lives?”

Kelvin’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Survival isn’t worth losing our humanity. If I had crossed that line, we would have lost something more important than our lives. I believe there’s always another way.”

Draco’s lips curl into a faint smirk, but his eyes remain sharp. “Interesting. But know this—Wallace is not someone to underestimate. He may be weak prey, but deep down, he’s strong. Extremely dangerous.”

Kelvin frowns, uncertain of what Draco means. “Dangerous how?”

Draco tilts his head slightly. “Wallace can turn his weakness into something lethal when the time comes. You’d do well to remember that.”

Kelvin absorbs the warning, knowing there’s more to Wallace than he initially thought. Draco steps aside, allowing the group to move forward, but the weight of Wallace’s anger and potential danger lingers in Kelvin’s mind as they press on, knowing the conflict is far from over.

As Kelvin and the group move past Draco, the weight of the Thornclad’s words hangs heavily in the air. The sleek metallic surfaces and the cold, humming machines around them feel distant compared to the much larger issues now swirling in Kelvin’s mind. Wallace—someone they had seen as prey—was more complex, more dangerous than any of them had realized.

The group walks in silence for a few moments, the tension palpable. Kai, ever watchful, glances at Kelvin. “Do you think Wallace really blames you that much? That he’d see you as a threat?”

Kelvin exhales slowly, his mind racing with everything Draco had said. “I don’t know,” he admits. “But Wallace is angry, and in moments like that, it’s easy to lose sight of what’s right and wrong. If he thinks I endangered everyone by sticking to my principles, then I have to address it.”

Kai nods, his expression grim. “We can’t afford to have this hanging over us. Not with everything else we’re facing.”

Mica, who had been walking quietly at the back, finally speaks up, his voice filled with uncertainty. “Kelvin… you did the right thing. I don’t care what Wallace thinks, you didn’t… force me. If anyone’s to blame for this situation, it’s not you.”

Kelvin turns to Mica, offering him a reassuring nod. “I wasn’t going to cross that line, Mica. No matter what.”

As they near the next portal, Kelvin’s mind is heavy with questions. The device they retrieved from Draco feels like a small victory, but the larger battle seems to be forming ahead—an emotional one, with Wallace at the center of it.

Just as they approach the shimmering edges of the next portal, a figure steps into view. It’s a Woolwight—a male sheep with soft, snowy fur and eyes filled with a mix of caution and curiosity. He looks over the group, his gaze lingering on Kelvin.

“Before you go,” the Woolwight says, his voice soft but clear, “I wanted to say something about blue.”

Kelvin stops, intrigued by the sudden mention of it. “Blue?” he asks.

The Woolwight nods. “Blue is a weird gas. When I first got exposed to it, it was… powerful, but scary in a good, weird way. My first boyfriend—he was being bullied at the time, and he didn’t know how to use blue safely. What should have been a powerful experience turned deadly. My lungs filled with blood, and I grew limp under him.”

The Woolwight’s voice grows more somber. “He learned his lesson after that, and the second time, he used blue the right way. It was still intense, still scary, but safe. I didn’t understand why he lied to me the first time, though. He pretended like he knew what he was doing. To this day, I don’t know why, and… I might not like the answer.”

Kelvin listens carefully, realizing the Woolwight is sharing more than just a story about a mistake—it’s about trust, about learning, about finding the balance in power. “Maybe he was afraid,” Kelvin offers. “Afraid of looking weak, of admitting he didn’t know how to handle blue properly. Sometimes fear makes people do things they wouldn’t otherwise do.”

The Woolwight’s eyes soften, as if the weight of his story had been lifted slightly. “Maybe,” he murmurs. “I never thought of it that way.”

He steps aside, gesturing toward the portal. “Good luck. And remember—balance is everything. In power, in relationships, in survival.”

Kelvin nods, his mind now filled with not only Wallace’s potential danger but also the complexities of the world around them, including blue and the risks it carries. As the group steps through the portal, they know that the hardest challenges are yet to come—not just physical battles, but battles of trust, loyalty, and survival against the very things that could tear them apart.

After the group touches the coin, the air around them begins to hum with energy, and a haunting melody fills the room. The words seem to echo from nowhere:

"He's the lord of wands,
He graces you with his presence."

Suddenly, a blinding light erupts around them, and Wallace appears, holding a powerful wand that crackles with energy. His expression is intense as he steps forward, eyes locked onto Kelvin. With a swift motion, Wallace slams the wand down, and glowing chains shoot out from the ground, wrapping tightly around Kelvin, pinning him to the spot.

Wallace steps closer, his voice cold and sharp. “Being 30 times stronger than a rabbit doesn’t mean anything if you’re caught.”

Kelvin struggles against the chains, confused and taken aback by Wallace’s sudden aggression. “Wallace, what’s going on? What are you doing?” he asks, his voice tight.

Wallace’s expression hardens. “I told you I could die, Kelvin. I told you the tomb was dangerous. You accidentally raped Mica once—couldn’t you have done it on purpose to save us? I know Dr. Pine helped you when it happened. You could’ve talked to her again after the journey if raping Mica was that hard.”

Kelvin’s heart pounds at Wallace’s words, the accusation stinging. “Wallace, I wasn’t going to cross that line,” he says firmly. “What happened with Mica was a mistake, one I’ve tried to make right. I couldn’t just force myself on someone to solve a problem. That’s not who I am.”

Wallace shakes his head, his frustration simmering. “For a doctor in engineering, you really are stupid,” he mutters with a bitter smile. “But I need your help, so here we are.”

Kelvin, still trapped by the chains, looks at Wallace carefully. “What do you need me to do?” he asks cautiously.

Wallace lowers the wand slightly but keeps his intense gaze fixed on Kelvin. “Help me save my world. The prey there are murdered and raped every day by predators like you,” Wallace says, his voice filled with pain and anger. “I thought you’d remember that.”

Kelvin takes a deep breath. “I do remember, Wallace. But we have to save your world without becoming what we’re fighting against. If we lose our humanity, what’s the point?”

Wallace’s eyes flash with frustration. “I saved lives while you were getting that coin,” he snaps. “I risked dying to get this wand. If that lizard had hit me once, I’d be ash. But I stole the wand, and I saved prey and predators alike. Does that make me bad because I violated his consent by taking it?”

Kelvin meets Wallace’s gaze, trying to find the right words. “Taking the wand saved lives, Wallace. That was a choice made in the moment, but what you’re asking me to do with Mica—it’s different. It’s about trust, about someone’s body. It’s not the same.”

Wallace sighs, his grip on the wand loosening as he steps back. “You always find a way to justify your actions, don’t you, Kelvin? But in the end, it’s about saving lives. Isn’t that what matters?”

Kelvin shakes his head. “It’s about how we save them, Wallace. We can’t sacrifice everything we believe in. What kind of world would we be saving if we did that?”

With a frustrated sigh, Wallace flicks his wrist, and the chains around Kelvin dissolve. “I hope you’ll still have me in the party,” Wallace says quietly. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

Kelvin rubs his wrists as the tension between them fades. “We’ll figure this out, Wallace. We’re in this together.”

Wallace nods, his expression softening but still carrying the weight of their conversation. “The Thornclads… they’re not really brutal. They’re highly intelligent and scholarly, but in a way that’s twisted. If they saw my planet, they’d want to study how the prey are raped, how they’re tortured slowly until they die.”

Kelvin frowns, taking in Wallace’s words. “They’d study something like that?”

Wallace nods grimly. “Maybe they’d even study the Woolwights the same way, but they don’t want to risk losing that source of knowledge again. How does that make you feel, knowing there’s a race 200 times stronger than you with that kind of mindset?”

Kelvin pauses, his expression serious. “It’s unsettling. But strength alone doesn’t define who we are. We’ve seen what happens when power is used without care.”

Wallace gives a faint smirk. “I’m not really worried. With the Woolwights there, the Thornclads are harmless. They won’t do anything to jeopardize their knowledge.”

Kelvin nods slowly. “I guess that keeps them in check—for now.”

Wallace shrugs. “Yeah. But it’s not all bad. Their races can’t reproduce together, so it’s common for them to spend $400 or more on sperm or eggs from the race they choose. If Mica wanted a kid, wouldn’t you spend money to get a rabbit or a ferret? It’s basically the same thing.”

Kelvin raises an eyebrow, considering Wallace’s words. “I guess that’s their way of keeping things balanced without crossing too many lines.”

Wallace nods. “Exactly. It’s strange, but it works for them. They’ve found a way to survive without causing chaos.”

Kelvin takes a deep breath. “It’s still a lot to take in, but I guess they’ve found their own kind of order.”

Wallace smirks again. “It’s not perfect, but it keeps things from getting out of control. As long as the Woolwights are useful, they’re safe.”

Kelvin nods in agreement, but the complexity of the Thornclads’ world continues to weigh on him as the group prepares to continue their journey.
