<+=/ Jenna \=+>

She eyed the large, generator-like contraption on the cart. It had wires snaking out from various points, connected to the control in her hand and the cannon set atop her shoulder. Lycra was behind at the power source's controls, finely tuning the configuration for 'optimal output'. Around them, a large mass of fighters wore the telltale patchwork armor of their combat forces. Some was discolored from use - but not broken. Hirvonen and the rest had long learned to put their trust in the capabilities of the items Lycra created. Today was no different - though Jenna herself had a bit of unease.

"Lycra, are you sure you want to test this here?"

Two fingers pointed to the massive, imposing structure settled atop a natural defensive position. The Belar forces inside refused to sally forth and fight them in the cleared field, sure and certain in their thick walls. They had no idea what was about to happen. Technically, Jenna and the others didn't, either. But Lycra had spent the last few months perfecting this particular iteration of his 'Plasma Cannon Tool', and everyone knew what that implied.

"They tried to blow up my lab!" It had been one errant blast that hit the walls of the structure, in an ill-fated assault Belar tried to launch against their forces. "And I don't like their face-guy!" Lycra's sole interaction with the self-proclaimed 'leader' of the tutorial forces was a video-call that ended after the odd, crustacean-like person had offered to let Lycra surrender in an unflattering conversation.

Self satisfied with his explanation, he went back to flipping switches, and then signaled things were ready. Jenna swallowed, flipped the single switch on her control, and pressed the button.

A swirling lance of orange and green plasma shot forth from the cannon, the intense heat painful against her skin. She held the weapon steady, and followed Lycra's orders. As the plasma impacted the high walls, she slowly swept it sideways, then down and back. The thick walls sizzled and melted under the force of the cannon, and further beyond, screams, shouts, and two explosions testified to the equipment's penetrating power. A large chunk of the wall completely melted and fell away before the mana crystals in the generator ran out of juice.

Lycra was beaming, scribbling in his notebook. Hirvonen had the corner of his lip turned up in a smile. Others stared at the empty air where the lance of energy had traveled nearly half a mile to carve through the enemy's defenses. They started to move, but Lycra stopped them all with two short sentences.

"I'm still mad. I want to do it."

Their small genius pulled the sword from his belt, and placed a crystal inside. His backpack sagged, heavy with his crafted contraptions. Lycra walked forward, up the hill. Jenna started to follow, and Lycra held up a hand. There was a flash in his eye, a steel will - mixed with something else. Worry, maybe?

"No, Jenna. I bet he's doing it himself. I need to do it by myself, too."

Lycra didn't wait for a response. He turned back towards the smoking hole in the wall, and strode forward with his sword in one hand, and a carved crystal in the other.

The short, simple words bounced in her head. Was this the friend, Serroc, that Lycra bragged about in quiet moments? Was that where his worry came from? His tone, his eyes - they didn't just seem like he was trying to replicate a feat, or win the 'race' he sometimes mentioned. She frowned. Maybe the race had real meaning to it, after all. Maybe one of the reasons Lycra was pushing himself so hard wasn't just because he enjoyed it. It was a sense she had herself, with Lycra. When you were connected to someone that impressive - that amazing - it was hard not to worry about their own growth outpacing yours. Of becoming irrelevant.

Maybe her small genius was afraid of falling behind.

As explosions boomed out from within the fortress, Jenna stayed deep in contemplation. Lightning and other elements shot skyward, but she was looking past all of it. Screams washed up against her ears, but didn't penetrate her mind. She was one still, silent body among hundreds massed at the edge of the hill - quiet as Lycra proved with unquestionable results that it was not only his mind that was beyond the pale.

#

#

Her hand slammed against the laboratory door.

"Lycra! You come out and eat, or I'm going to break in and see your secret project!"

A small slot shifted and two yellow orbs glinted against the sunlight.

"You can't. That's a crime. I'm almost done."

She knelt down and caught the slide before he could close it.

"So you were paying attention to Fansant's civic structure lessons! I'm going to tell him to come by again. He can shout through the door."

Yellow eyes narrowed, and he grumbled. "One plate, no more Fansant."

Jenna tilted her head. "Two meals, one night's rest, and you promise to do it again the next time I come by."

"But I'm almost done!"

She wrinkled her forehead. "You were almost done last week, too. Two meals, a night's rest, and you listen next time. Then, no more Fansant."

Lycra let out a huff, and slapped a hand against the wall. Metal clanked and ground, and the door opened just wide enough for him to slip out before snapping back shut.

Jenna rose back to her full height, and smiled.

"Alright. Let's go eat."

#

#

The field had a strong smell like pine, with minor additions of some sort of wildflower. Grass was springy and lush underneath each step, and she could just barely see its odd green color peeking through the gap in her blindfold.

It was finally time for Lycra to reveal the 'surprise' he'd been working on for weeks. What could possibly have taken longer than both the railgun and the plasma cannon combined was a mystery. Maybe he had finally come up with something that would be able to break the tutorial itself. Or, rather, something that would break it again. Jenna was fairly certain he had already broken it.

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Since the completion of the elite beast questline, their normal populace was inundated with more and more powerful creatures of all kinds - and the sole enemy she and Lycra had set out to destroy thus far in the new 'beast lord' questline had been F grade itself. It was the first time she'd seen something survive a hit from the railgun. Thankfully, not every beast in the tutorial had grown quite so strong. Her people at least still had a chance to beat the things they faced. With Lycra's reworked power armor and weapons, they faired pretty well. Yes, there were casualties - but their Vuxarinan-military experienced tutorial population stayed professional and pressed on without complaint. It tickled the piece of Jenna that still cared about Vuxarinan pride.

Lycra hummed as he guided her forward with one hand. She was happy to hear him doing so. For days after the assault on Belar's final base, and in waves after that, Lycra had been abnormally quiet in his focus. As always, her genius was impressively deft at avoiding topics he truly didn't wish to discuss. She only knew that he - in seeing the treatment of the final base's prisoners - had lost a little of his mirth, and he was just now getting it back. She idly wondered how she could safeguard his pure soul from the darkness of the universe - or rather, the cosmos.

She stumbled at a sudden stop, and Lycra squeezed her hand.

"SURPRISE!"

Jenna slowly lifted her blindfold. Lycra stood in front of her, one hand rested against a square box. The box's silver lid leaned against its side, revealing a lumpy set of mixed cloth and metal that were, on their own, a mystery.

His other hand was open, pointed behind him. His smile was radiant and his eyes glowed.

Jenna took in the main article.

A series of smooth silver and burgundy pieces of metal were tightly welded together in a familiar shape. A rectangular body, barely longer than a personal automobile, rested on a set of simple metal skis. Its front was roughly tapered into a duck-bill shape. Partway up the incline, salvaged Belar window material was connected with thin metal banding. It reminded Jenna of stained glass.

Fins were attached directly to the top of the rectangle as far to the rear as was possible, like a pair of small mammalian ears. Two stubby, swept protrusions emerged from the sides of the rectangle, close to the top of the body. They were just wide enough to comfortably fit the cylindrical mechanisms slung underneath.

The engines.

Attached to the wings.

On the aircraft.

Jenna blinked, but couldn't blink away her disbelief.

Atop the body of the craft, a mind-bending number of tubes, hoses, and wires snaked around six long rows of large mana crystals. There were enough crystals here to fire the plasma cannon dozens of times over, and each one was wrapped in connections sequenced to the next or run out and down to the engines.

She could feel the beat of her heart threatening to break free from her chest. The craft before her held two seats. One was tall and narrow, set in front of a series of complex controls defined by a M-shaped yoke . The second was higher up, smaller, and had a mix of more controls, and an obvious access panel to reach the mess of tubes and wires powering the creation. The box before them held simple, handmade flight suits and helmets.

Tears blurred the bottom of her vision.

Lycra still had a face-splitting grin.

"I made us a spaceship! Skyship? It can't do space. Probably. It's a flying ship! You can pilot, and we can fly together!"

A passion. A dream. Fulfillment. Freedom.

Flying had been - and was - so much of her. It was, for so long, the only thing she really cared about and loved. Something she thought she would have to go without because of Belar. Something she assumed had been taken away, and she wouldn't get back.

Yet in front of her, her genius had presented her with a gift so vast and valuable. A starving portion of her soul drooled at the very prospect of sitting in the pilot's chair. Her body shivered with an electric, permeating energy.

She wheeled and wrapped Lycra in a deep hug, and held him there. He returned the gesture, and ignored her hot tears that fell down the back of his neck.

Jenna sniffled as they separated, and wiped the back of her wrist over her eyes.

"You're incredible, Lycra. You know that?"

Lycra wiggle-waved his hand through the air. "Lots of people make ships."

Responses, arguments, and points of proof rotated themselves in her mind. 'Yes, but it's usually multiple people.' 'I don't think anyone has built a ship in a tutorial, with a box of scraps.' 'You get to take a complement every once in a while, Lycra.' 'I love you.'

Jenna let out a resigned laugh, and let a question out in place of all her other, stronger thoughts. Something far more innocuous.

"Well, have you given it a name? All ships have names."

His smile somehow split wider.

"Wing."

#

#

Jenna eased back on the throttle, and Wing shuddered slightly as it decelerated from top speed. She had an innate sense of it - the change in force and stress moved through the frame of the craft like a wave of oil, and tested each of the bolted and riveted internal connections - as well as Lycra's welds. A glass tube bolted to her control panel glowed with an intensity that had slightly dipped past the fourth mark scratched into its surface. Three-quarters charge left. More than enough to make it back.

Wing had exceeded her expectations at every turn. The craft was nearly as agile as her cigar-ship had been. That alone put it near the pinnacle of craft she had piloted. But in a mad, impossible way - Wing was faster.

When she pushed the throttle near its maximum, the craft had an almost frightening level of speed. That went both for the actual speed achieved, and the state of Wing when she was near her limit. Every time, it felt as though the craft was ready to break itself apart. It was only Jenna's trust in Lycra that allowed her to push the vehicle to its true limitations. Over the past test flights - and the 4 completed 'missions', she'd fallen deeper in love with the simple, beautiful girl. Each odd weld and shift between silver and burgundy was character. Every groaning piece of frame was a song that told her how much more she could take. The feedback from the engines was a true connection, as though Wing had reached back out and touched her palm to palm.

Jenna checked their position against the rough maps, again. The tutorial had upper and outer limits, and nearing them created and odd slowing and elastic phenomenon that always turned them around. They weren't going to near that limit until after this run was done. Maybe this would be the time they needed two approaches.

Probably not.

Behind her, Lycra hummed and bopped as he made minute adjustments to one of the three chaotic tangles stuffed next to his seat. Two sat on the floor, where trapdoors would open and release the creations. His explanation of where he came up with the idea - "I got dropped like that once" - was added to her long mental list of the things she wanted more information on if he ever decided to open up more to her.

Jenna tapped the stained-glass cockpit windows twice, a signal that they were getting close. Lycra's humming changed cadence as he wrapped up his tweaks and gently placed the third device on the floor. He looked through the targeting computer - a haphazard use of video equipment salvaged from Belar helmets and their headquarters' operations center - and readied his fingers next to two switches. Seconds later, a deafening rush of air filled the cockpit as the trapdoors opened, then closed. Jenna flipped Wing upside down and circled lazily to watch the show.

She wasn't certain where in the forest this beast lord was supposed to be - but that didn't much matter.

Three massive explosions sent shockwaves through the air and buffeted against their aircraft. Thick smoke curled into the sky, drawn out from the blast. It shifted to black as the sections of forest not completely leveled began to burn in the aftermath. The notification confirmed it - another of these 'lords' fallen to a single bombing run.

Lycra danced behind her, and she turned them upright, and leveled out, on a course back to camp, the airfield, and Lycra's lab.

She barely got to see one notification flash into her vision before the next appeared.

-

CONGRATULATIONS! Your faction has reached a progress point for a questline. This is one of [1] progress points for [The Beast Lords] questline. Your faction leader may now select rewards-

-

CONGRATULATIONS! Your faction has selected: Difficulty Adjustment - Increase.

-

Blue-grey clouds rolled over the sky, and flashes of light erupted, quickly followed by heavy rain that impacted hard against Wing's metal skin. Hard enough that they started to lose altitude until Jenna increased the throttle and angled them slightly upwards.

Behind her, the humming had stopped. All she could hear, aside from the rain, was furious scribbling and two muttered words.

"Bigger bomb"

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