September 1st, 11:08 AM — Mount Paozu, Wontonka Border
Capsule Bike No. 9, CC-Comet.
Ground into the clay, digging a hole instead of moving forward.
A spray of brown mud shot up.
The dirt landed on Bulma's sneakers.
She turned off the engine.
The silence that followed in the forest was a frightening new experience for Bulma, but she chose to ignore it. Wontonka was just as her researches on world geography had indicated.
Endless mountainous jungles stretching far into the distance.
Seventy-four hours.
Three full days of travel.
The local infrastructure had not been of much help either.
The energy signature tracker or the "dragon radar," as she called it — was attached to the dashboard, shrieking loudly enough to shake her nerves.
The green dot on the visor was no longer blinking.
It was steady now.
Bright.
One hundred meters away.
She propelled the floating bike through ferns that grew to chest height.
The trees parted.
The valley appeared.
The sun's rays fell on the surface of a shallow river that ran through the land full of white stones.
Mount Paozu loomed in the background.
At the center of the clearing was the source of the most complex energy signature her father had ever recorded.
The reason she was here at all.
A hut.
It was a peculiar, quaint little building.
It had a blue, tiered pagoda roof textured to resemble cylindrical tiles, topped with a golden finial that sparkled in the sunlight.
The walls were two-toned, smooth grey plaster above, resting atop a foundation of chunky orange-brown stone. It was peaceful. Almost sleepy.
A circular window with a red lattice grid faced the left wall, and the entrance was marked by bright green double doors, each painted with a red diamond.
Bulma removed her motorcycle helmet.
...Are you serious?
She looked at the building.
That strong signal was coming from an… eastern-style hut?
...
The wind changed direction.
Smoke.
Bulma released the bike. The vehicle continued to hover in place.
She adjusted the pistol holster on her thigh and headed toward the smoke.
Someone was home.
////////////////////////////////////
The cold water swirled around the moss-covered stone, but the boy didn't feel the chill.
He crouched low, heels pressed against the slick rock, still as lichen.
His chest barely rose.
His breathing had fallen in step with the rhythm of the current.
Only his tail moved.
Submerged beneath the murky surface, the furry tip drifted lazily, tasting the river.
Short vibrations.
Longtail. Calorie waste.
Fast vibrations.
Celestial Carp. Too much bone, too little meat.
Then, the pressure changed.
A dense displacement of mass pushed the water against the current.
He didn't think.
His body reacted before the signal reached his brain.
The tail snapped.
The river erupted in a burst of white foam.
A tiger fish, two meters of muscle and teeth, was torn from the water, scales flashing like shards of light as it twisted in midair, jaws biting at nothing.
The boy turned.
His right leg cut a perfect arc through the air.
His foot struck the creature's skull.
Crack.
The fish dropped into the tall grass, lifeless before it hit the ground.
He stepped down from the rock.
Grabbed dinner by the tail fin.
Took one step toward the forest, then froze.
His ears twitched, turning north.
A hum.
Not cicadas.
Not wolves.
Continuous.
High-pitched.
The sound of metal grinding against metal at blistering speed.
He let go of the fish.
His right hand closed around the red staff leaning on a cedar trunk.
Muscles tensed.
The ground gave way under his feet.
He shot upward, weightless, landing on the highest branch of an ancient oak.
The thick canopy swallowed him whole.
Down below, the source of the noise appeared.
A red-and-black metal beast burst through the treeline.
No legs, only thrusters, wide and roaring. It floated a hand's width above the ground, the air pressure flattening the undergrowth.
And on its back… a human.
Female.