Pyra turned her head toward the rim. Her eyes flared with a brighter gold light. 'An elder. This one carries the scent of the Galactic Enforcers. But he is aged...' she thought to her herself while gazing at Grandpa Max.
"Grandpa! Help! This lady wants to use me as a battery or something!" Ben scrambled up and ran toward Max, his sneakers kicking up clouds of ash.
He reached the top of the ridge and hid behind Max's Hawaiian shirt. He could smell the bacon grease and old spice on Max, a comforting contrast to the sulfur and heat of the crater.
"Grandpa, what the hell is that thing?" Gwen asked, climbing up behind them. She was rubbing her arm where a spark had singed her sleeve. "It came out of the watch! And it keeps calling Ben a 'Sire'!"
Max looked down at the Chaquetrix on Ben's wrist. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, a look of pure dread crossing his face before he masked it with a cold expression.
"Ben... don't touch the dial again," Max whispered. He looked back at Pyra, who was now walking up the side of the crater effortlessly with grace.
Each step she took left a glowing, molten footprint in the grass.
The grass ignited instantly. The smell of burning pine filled the air.
"You recognize the mark of Azmuth, Elder," Pyra said, stopping ten feet away from them.
The heat radiating off her was so intense that the plastic buttons on Max's shirt began to warp and soften.
"I recognize a biological summons when I see one," Max replied. He lowered the tire iron slightly, but he didn't relax his posture. "But he's a child. He isn't ready for the Contract."
"The Contract does not care for time," Pyra rumbled. She looked at Ben, who was peeking out from behind Max's hip. "The signal was sent. The bridge is open. I am bound to him. And he is bound to the survival of my race."
Suddenly, the Chaquetrix began to BEEP rapidly.
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP.
The pink light turned into a swirling vortex around Ben's wrist.
"What's happening? It's vibrating! It's vibrating my whole arm!" Ben yelled. He gripped his left wrist, trying to hold it still.
BAM.
A pink shockwave erupted from the watch. It didn't hurt, but it pushed Max and Gwen back several feet.
Pyra's body began to pixelate. Her solid stone form turned into translucent pink energy. She looked at her hands, her expression one of mild annoyance rather than fear.
"The standby cycle begins," Pyra voice echoed as if it's from a long distance. "Rest well, little Sire. We have much work to do when the sun rises."
SHLOOP.
With a final flash, Pyra vanished. The air where she had stood was empty, save for the circle of burning grass and the lingering scent of charcoal.
Silence fell over the clearing. The only sound was the crackling of the small fire Pyra had left behind.
Max immediately dropped the tire iron and grabbed Ben's wrist. He inspected the watch, his thumb tracing the pink hourglass symbol.
"Grandpa? You're hurting me," Ben muttered.
Max let go, his hand shaking slightly. He looked at Gwen, then back at the dark woods.
"We need to get back to the Rustbucket. Now," Max ordered.
"Not until you tell us what that was!" Gwen yelled, her face turning red. "That wasn't 'nature' Grandpa! That was a giant fire woman who talked about breeding with my cousin! I'm going to throw up! I'm actually going to barf!"
"Into the van! Both of you!" Max's voice left no room for argument.
They trekked back through the woods in silence. Ben kept looking at his wrist. The watch was quiet now, but he could feel a strange warmth beneath the metal...it felt like the pulse matched his own heartbeat somehow.
THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP.
As they reached the Rustbucket, the man from earlier(the one with the flat tire) was still there.
He was stumbling drunk, a half-empty bottle in his hand. He looked at the smoking woods behind them and then at Ben's glowing pink watch.
"Hey! What the fuck did you kids do?" the man slurped, spit flying from his mouth. "You set the goddamn woods on fire? I'm callin' the rangers! You little shits are gonna rot in—"
Max didn't even look at him. He grabbed the man by the front of his stained tank top with one hand and slammed him against the side of his truck.
WHAM.
The man's head hit the rusted metal. The bottle fell from his hand and shattered on the gravel.
SMASH.
"Go home," Max said, his voice low and dangerous. "Before I decide to make your night much worse."
The man stared into Max's eyes, his pupils dilating in pure terror. He scrambled into his truck, the engine screaming as he peeled away on a flat tire.
SCREECH.
Max turned back to the kids, his face returning to its calm, "Grandpa" mask. "Inside. We have a lot to talk about."