Arriving at the massive crater left by the penguins' crash landing, Yarrow and Peach Fox stepped cautiously over scattered debris and strange contraptions glinting under the afternoon sun.
"What are these…?" Peach Fox murmured, curiosity dancing in her amber eyes. She picked up an odd, gun-shaped device. "Biological Evolution Gun?" she read aloud, tilting her head.
Before Yarrow could stop her, she accidentally tugged the trigger.
A thin beam of red light zipped through the air and struck a tiny bug hovering nearby. The insect instantly ballooned into a grotesque, snarling monstrosity. Without hesitation, it snapped up a wandering deer in a single gulp and flapped away on massive wings.
Peach Fox yelped and dropped the weapon. "W-what was that?!"
Yarrow chuckled softly, crouching to inspect the items. "Judging from what those penguins left behind, most of this stuff is either useless or dangerously weird. But…"
He paused beside a matte-black motorcycle resting at a slant in the grass. The tank still held fuel.
"…this could be fun."
He climbed on and looked over his shoulder. "Peach Fox, come on."
She skipped over, still hugging a fuzzy pink device—labeled Cuteness Detector—and straddled the seat behind him.
"You know how to ride this?" she asked, pressing up close, arms snaking around his waist.
Yarrow grinned, flipping a switch. "Let's just say I had a wild youth."
The engine roared to life, and they shot forward, a gust of wind in their wake. Peach Fox squeaked, tightening her grip, her body pressed snug against his back.
The world blurred around them as they weaved through the forest. Her laughter spilled like silver bells into the air, hair whipping in the wind. "It's even faster than the Earth Dragon Car!"
They rode until sunset painted the skies in dusky gold. As the last drops of fuel ran dry, Yarrow coasted the bike to a gentle stop at the crest of a hill.
He pulled out the item-finder pocket watch. The distance between the hands had closed significantly—just a few notches away now.
"We're close," he said. "Tomorrow, we'll reach the target."
They made camp beneath the stars. Yarrow lit a fire, its warmth flickering over his thoughtful face. The scent of pine, smoke, and the faint sweetness of tea mingled in the air. He scrolled through old photos on his phone—memories of Serena's candid smile, her defiant spark.
"Yarrow," Peach Fox murmured, curling beside the flames. "Does that magical machine need more magic to run?"
"No. It's done its part," he replied, still gazing at the glowing screen.
She yawned, slipping into her sleeping bag close to his side, fluffy tail coiled protectively around herself. "Mm… then I'll sleep here. Your presence is warm."
Yarrow looked at her for a long second, a strange feeling blooming quietly in his chest. He smiled faintly and said, "Rest. I'll keep watch."
The fire cracked softly, casting their shadows long and close. Hours passed.
Eventually, Yarrow stood and wandered off into the woods to relieve himself. The silence was deep, broken only by the rustle of leaves and distant chirping.
As he fastened his pants and turned to go, a husky voice stirred from the shadows behind him.
"Young man…"
Yarrow froze.
A woman stood under the moonlight, half-shrouded in mist, her silhouette sinuous, eyes glowing with a light both wild and intelligent. Her cloak fluttered behind her, and the low cut of her leather armor left little to the imagination.
She tilted her head, smiling with danger and delight.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
Yarrow was startled, his eyes widening as he turned around. He raised the glowing firestone to illuminate the area, and there, embedded in a stone, he saw a sword—its blade gleaming faintly in the dim light.
"Are… are you calling me?" Yarrow asked, his voice hesitant as he glanced at the sword.
"Yes," a deep, resonant voice replied, echoing from the sword itself.
Yarrow's brow furrowed. "I've been waiting for you, young hero."
"Hero? Me?" Yarrow pointed at himself in disbelief. "Are you sure you have the right person?"
"That's right. As a sacred sword with infinite power, I've waited here for hundreds of years, just for you," the sword responded, its voice ancient and proud.
Yarrow blinked, eyeing the sword with suspicion. "A sacred sword? But… why are you here? Shouldn't you be in some labyrinth, or at least surrounded by danger? You know, something more... epic? A beam of holy light maybe?"
"No, those are just exaggerations," the sword replied with a hint of indignation. "The true sacred sword is humble. It waits quietly in places like this, on a roadside stone, ready for the true hero to pull it free and unleash its power."
Yarrow scratched his head, glancing around at the peaceful forest. The setting didn't quite match the legendary tale the sword was spinning. "This is… a roadside stone? Looks more like a regular forest to me."
"Ah, but do you not feel the power? The courage, the justice, the kindness, the purity you hold within!" The sword's tone was filled with urgency. "You are the chosen hero, destined to wield me! Together, we shall cut through all obstacles and save this dilapidated world!"
Yarrow was taken aback by the sheer enthusiasm, but part of him—admittedly curious—felt a rush of excitement. Could this be real? Was he truly in the presence of a legendary artifact?
He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and moved toward the stone. "Alright then, let's see what you've got."
"Hold me! Show me your strength!" The sword's voice quivered in anticipation.
Yarrow gripped the hilt with both hands and pulled. His muscles strained, veins popping as he exerted all his strength. The ground beneath his feet sank slightly as he struggled, but there was no giving up.
"Come on! Show me your power!" the sword urged.
"Ahhh!" Yarrow shouted, his feet digging into the earth. His muscles trembled with effort, and finally, with a sudden jolt, the sword slid free with a satisfying clang. The blade shimmered in the moonlight, gleaming cold and sharp.
And then, unexpectedly, a soft, pleasurable moan filled the air.
"Oh~ Yeah~"
Yarrow stumbled back, sword still in hand, his eyes widening in confusion. "What the—?"
He glanced around, trying to make sense of the strange sound, and suddenly noticed the stone behind him beginning to shift. It rose from the earth like a figure coming to life. A stone man, its body composed of rough rock, twisted to face him. The stone was... warm, somehow, and it grinned at him in a manner that made Yarrow's blood run cold.
"Oh~ That was so good! Can you do it again? I've waited so long for someone like you…" The stone man's voice was thick with satisfaction.
Yarrow's eyes went wide as he realized what had happened. His grip on the sword tightened, and his face turned a shade of crimson. "Wait—what?!"
The stone man, oblivious to Yarrow's shock, plucked the sword from his hands, reinserted it into the stone, and then casually sank back into the ground, resuming its position as if nothing had happened. "Mmm… now we wait for the next one…"
Yarrow stood there, speechless for a moment, before throwing his hands up in frustration. "What the hell did you just make me do?!"
He was thoroughly disgusted, repelled by the whole situation. He turned away quickly, dropping the sword with a grimace, and stormed back toward the camp.
As he walked, trying to shake off the bizarre encounter, he suddenly froze. To his surprise, a strange vehicle had appeared by the campsite—an old, patched-together truck with a rocket booster mounted on the back. The roof was crowded with various antennas and signal equipment, and the truck's sides were adorned with odd scraps of metal.
A window slid open, and a bearded man with a beer belly leaned out, peering at Yarrow.
"Wai Bi Ba Bo?" the man shouted, his voice thick with an accent Yarrow didn't recognize.
Yarrow stared blankly for a moment, trying to make sense of this new, absurd turn of events.
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