Tom pushed the bunker door open, the cool air inside greeting him like a quiet hush. He stretched his aching shoulders, muttering, "Man, I could use a bed that doesn't feel like sandpaper."
Inside, he found Vera seated at the far table. A candle flickered beside him, its little flame steady against the stale air. Vera looked up, calm as always, but his eyes carried something heavier tonight.
"Back already?" Vera asked.
"Yeah," Tom replied, plopping down across from him. "Grace gave me a full stats lecture. Felt like I was in... where?"
Vera gave a small hum, neither smile nor frown. "I heard… about Facebearers. About what you people can do."
Tom tilted his head. "You people? Sounds like I'm some rare animal."
Vera's lips pressed into a thin line. He wasn't angry, but there was a tension under his calm voice. "It's just… strange. All of you are moving ahead, unlocking powers, fighting like you belong to some higher world. And me?" He gestured to himself, his hands resting flat on the table. "I'm just… here. Normal."
Tom leaned back, sensing the subtle sting of jealousy beneath Vera's tone. For once, Tom didn't joke. "Vera…"
But Vera continued, quieter this time. "I heard Facebearers can communicate with their Faces.
They say… if you find inner peace, if you reach into yourself, you enter something called the Transparent Realm. It's where the bearer channels directly with their Face, finds guidance. Balance."
Tom raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Transparent Realm, huh? Like some… inner meditation dojo?"
"Call it whatever you want," Vera said calmly. "But it might help you. Especially with… your imbalance." His eyes flicked briefly toward Tom's bandaged arm, then away.
The silence hung between them, broken only by the candle's faint crackle.
Tom exhaled, half a laugh. "Guess you're jealous I get the weird homework assignments too, huh?"
Vera didn't answer, but his eyes lingered calm, serious, with a glimmer of something unspoken.
He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "You know what, Tom? Maybe you're not cut out for this Transparent Realm thing."
Tom squinted at him. "Oh yeah? And why's that?"
"Because it requires focus," Vera said dryly. "Something you've never had in your entire life. You're more likely to trip into a dream about fried chicken than find inner peace."
Tom barked out a laugh. "Big words from a guy whose greatest talent so far is… what? Watching me and Grace glow in the dark?"
Vera raised an eyebrow, lips twitching into the faintest smirk. "At least I don't need to spin chairs and random junk around me just to feel useful."
"Oh, low blow," Tom replied, pointing a finger at him. "Careful, or I'll rotate your boots right off your feet while you're walking. Imagine that. Desert breeze on your toes. People calling you 'Sock-Boy Vera.'"
That got a quiet chuckle out of Vera, though he quickly masked it. "Childish."
"Effective," Tom grinned. "See? I can already break your calm. Transparent Realm unlocked." He made a fake hand-seal, squinting his eyes shut dramatically. "Look, I'm already levitating."
"You look like a man constipated," Vera muttered.
Tom opened one eye and glared. "Wow. No mercy."
"Just honesty."
For a moment, both of them let the silence linger, but it wasn't heavy anymore. It was friendly, playful. Then Tom inhaled deeply, straightening his back.
"Alright, fine," he said. "Let's see if I can actually do this Transparent Realm thing. Don't distract me."
Vera smirked faintly. "Don't worry. I'd hate to interrupt your nap."
Tom shut his eyes and forced himself to breathe slow. Inhale. Exhale. The bunker's air was stale, but he tried to imagine fresh wind. Tried to imagine calm.
His Face flickered at the edge of his mind, the wooden chair, the void eyes, the quiet pressure.
He felt like he was almost there. Like the world was tilting, softer, quieter.
Then his nose itched. He scratched, broke focus, and cursed. "Damn it."
Vera's laugh slipped out, low and amused. "Told you."
Tom groaned, slumping forward. "Man, how does anyone do this? My brain's like a circus."
Tom pressed his palms together, eyes shut, trying to force some calm into his brain. His breathing slowed, his shoulders finally starting to relax—
[ A Personal Quest has been issued by the System. ]
His eyes snapped open as the glowing text shimmered in front of him.
[ Quest: Razor's Feast ]
[ Objective: Slay all the Razorbugs in Carna Forest. ]
[ Rewards: 250 Coins, 1000 EXP ]
Tom blinked a few times. "…Well. That's new."
Vera leaned forward from where he sat, his sharp eyes scanning the floating screen. "Carna Forest…" he muttered, frowning. "I've heard of it."
"You mean it's real?" Tom asked, tilting his head like he half-expected Vera to say just kidding.
"Unfortunately, yes," Vera replied calmly. "It's close enough to here. Twisted place. Plants there don't just sit still—they crave flesh, drink blood. And the bugs…" he paused, eyes narrowing, "razor-sharp carapaces, wings that can slice through skin. A swarm of them is worse than a blade storm."
Tom let out a low whistle. "So, the System's trying to get me killed for a thousand EXP and some pocket change?"
Vera smirked faintly. "Sounds about right."
"Carna Forest," Tom repeated, rolling the words in his mouth like they were already bitter. "I can already feel those bugs chewing on my ankles."
"You're lucky, actually," Vera said, tone oddly serious now. "Carna isn't far. Dangerous, but not unreachable. If the System gave you this, maybe it thinks you can handle it."
Tom leaned back, rubbing his bandaged arm thoughtfully. "Or maybe it thinks I'm disposable."
Vera's gaze sharpened. "That's for you to prove wrong."
Tom huffed, eyes flicking back to the glowing quest text. For once, he didn't have a joke ready.
The glowing quest screen faded from Tom's sight, but the thought of razorbugs clung to his mind like burrs. He glanced at Vera's weapon leaning against the wall sleek, gleaming and dangerous.
Without thinking twice, Tom darted forward, snatched the trident, and bolted.
"Hey!" Vera's voice cracked into the room like thunder. He shot up from his chair and charged after him.
Tom laughed, half-panicked, half-triumphant. "Just borrowing it! Just once! For the Carna bugs!"
Vera lunged, nearly grabbing Tom's collar. "You idiot! Put that down!"
They stumbled into the open hall, Tom holding the trident like some prize he'd just stolen from a king. Vera's jaw clenched, his calm demeanor gone. "If that trident gets even a single scratch—" he snapped, "you are doomed. I'll bury you under the desert myself."
Tom swung it clumsily in the air, the heavy balance almost throwing him off his feet. "Relax! I'll polish it after! Think of it as… field testing!"
"Field testing? You can't even hold it straight," Vera growled, circling him. His eyes locked on the weapon like a hawk ready to strike.
Tom backed up, grinning nervously. "Look, Vera, all I'm saying is.... you've got style, I've got charm. Together, we'll—"
Vera lunged.
The two collided, trident between them, scuffling like children over a toy. Tom kept laughing, breathless, while Vera looked seconds from snapping his neck.
"Give. It. Back."
"After I stab a bug or two!" Tom shot back, grinning wildly.