The same crude, single-note hum Kai had used against the music creature. But this time, she varied it, creating a dissonant chord that clashed against the natural sounds of the grove.
The chimera skidded to a halt, its vine-mouths whipping back and forth in confusion. The sound seemed to disrupt its sensory processing.
Analysis: Sonic disruption effective against creatures with vibrational sensing. Companion has observed and replicated technique with 72% efficiency.
Anya used the moment to crawl toward cover. Lena backed away slowly, maintaining the hum.
Kai saw an opportunity. While the chimera was disoriented, he could strike. His ability highlighted a weakness—where two of the creature's legs joined the body, the bark-like skin was thinner, vulnerable.
He moved silently along a parallel branch, above and behind the creature. He had no weapon, but his ability suggested one: a dead branch, thick as his arm, ending in a sharp point where it had broken. It lay within reach.
He grabbed it, tested its weight. Adequate.
The chimera was recovering, shaking its vine-cluster like a dog shaking off water. Lena's hum was losing effectiveness as the creature adapted.
Now.
Kai dropped from above, driving the pointed branch down with all his weight and momentum. He aimed not for the body, but for the specific junction his ability highlighted.
The branch pierced the bark-skin with a sound like cracking ice. Green blood erupted. The chimera shrieked—a sound that was part animal pain, part tearing metal.
Kai didn't wait to see the effect. He pushed off the creature's back, landing in a roll beside Lena.
"Run!"
They ran. Anya followed, limping but keeping pace.
Behind them, the chimera thrashed, trying to dislodge the branch. It wasn't a killing blow, but it was debilitating—one of its primary leg joints was shattered.
They didn't stop until they'd put three hundred yards of dense canopy between them and the creature. Finally, they collapsed onto a wide, moss-covered branch, gasping for air.
Anya stared at them, her expression a mix of gratitude and suspicion. "Why?"
Lena answered between breaths. "Because we could."
"That's a shit reason in this place." Anya examined her wounds. The puncture marks were already closing—her own regeneration at work, perhaps a correction. "You risked your slots for a stranger."
"Slots?" Lena asked.
"For the Heart Tree. Two hundred." Anya's eyes narrowed. "You didn't know? The broadcast—"
"We heard," Kai said. "We're aware."
"Then you're idiots. Or you have another angle." She looked at Kai specifically. "You moved like you knew exactly where to strike. That wasn't luck."
Kai didn't respond. His ability was analyzing her: threat level low-medium, potential asset if loyal, probable liability if not. Her survival instinct was strong, but she had just watched two companions die—one immediately, one by abandonment. Her psychological state was volatile.
"What happened to your third?" Lena asked gently.
Anya's face hardened. "Marco ran. He took the supplies and ran." She said it without bitterness, as stating a fact. "He'll probably make it to the Tree. He's fast, and now he has all the fruit."
"Will you try to catch him?" Lena asked.
"No point. The bond is broken." Anya looked at her sharpened fingers, then retracted them with visible effort. The bones reshaped with faint cracking sounds, returning to normal human hands. "This... adaptation. It helps me cut fruit, defend myself. But it's changing how I think. I feel... sharper. Less forgiving."
Kai recognized the pattern. Her correction was making her more pragmatic, cutting away emotional softness. Not as extreme as his empathic dampening, but similar in direction.
"We should move," he said. "The chimera might recover, or its distress calls might attract other predators."
Anya nodded. "Where are you headed?"
"Toward the Heart Tree," Lena said.
"Same. But the direct paths are being contested. There's a bottleneck ahead—a natural bridge across a ravine. Groups are forming there, controlling access. They're demanding tolls."
"What kind of tolls?" Kai asked.
"Supplies. Weapons. Or... services." Anya's expression darkened. "Some groups are recruiting by force. If you have a useful correction, they'll 'invite' you to join. If you don't..."
She didn't need to finish.
Kai's threat simulation activated, considering the bottleneck. A controlled choke point changed everything. They could avoid it, but that would mean significant detour. Time they didn't have, with the slot counter climbing.
Current eligible arrivals: 47/200
Almost a quarter of the slots filled already. The counter was updating in real time now, a relentless countdown.
"We'll need to pass through," Kai said. "A detour would cost us at least four hours. We'd lose our chance."
"Pass through how?" Lena asked. "If they're demanding tolls—"
"We don't have anything to pay with," Anya finished.
Kai looked at them—Lena with her minor regeneration, her compassion slowly being weaponized into efficiency. Anya with her retractable blades, her empathy being honed into pragmatic survivalism. And himself, becoming a living calculation, shedding humanity like dead skin.
"We have our corrections," he said. "That's the currency here."
He didn't like it, but the numbers were clear: presenting themselves as assets was their highest probability path through the bottleneck.
As they prepared to move toward the bridge, a new system message appeared, but this one was personal, for Kai alone:
Broken Question Logged: #002
Query: What is the value of a life saved at cost to the self?
Status: Unanswered
Note: The system observes all sacrifices. Not all debts are forgiven.
Kai dismissed the message. Philosophical questions were luxuries for those who weren't racing against a slot counter.
But as they began moving through the glowing canopy, the question lingered in some part of him that hadn't yet been corrected—some part that still wondered if efficiency was all that mattered, or if there were broken things worth preserving, even here, even now.
Ahead, the sounds of conflict grew louder. Shouts, the clash of makeshift weapons, the occasional scream. The bottleneck awaited.
And beyond it, the Heart Tree glowed like a false promise, calling the worthy, the corrected, the broken-made-whole.
Or the broken-made-useful.
Kai wasn't sure which he was becoming. Only that he was running out of time to care.