No one spoke of the Sage's death. They didn't know him well enough to grieve his loss. More than that, the fact that a level six Arahant with a Sage insight strongly suited to combat died in the first battle was an uncomfortable reminder of their own mortality. Though, Hector reflected, the mad swordsman had brought his fate on himself by charging into the worst of it. Death by miasma poisoning might not be as much of a risk for a Xian, but he still took the underlying lesson to heart: don't get cocky in the middle of a war zone.

Hector began to cultivate chaos to restore the reserves he'd run through in the battle.

They unpacked some rations from the back of Fred for a meal. There were large tins filled with something not too dissimilar to meatloaf. It was some form of ground meat mixed with various binders Hector could not identify. The strongest flavor by far, and indeed the only identifiable flavor, was salt. There was also dehydrated fruit vacuum sealed into large bins, a small chocolate dessert for each of them, and a sweetened electrolyte powder for them to mix into their water.

The meal wasn't particularly good, but the lifestyle of a Xian often involved choking down disgusting substances. A bad meal could not compare to what he was prepared to endure in the name of advancement. His Titan comrades sat on either side of him as everyone ate with their backs resting on Fred. Nestor no longer displayed even a hint of hostility towards Hector – apparently they just needed to face a few hundred monsters together to make nice.

Leroy ate his portion of the rations rapidly, commenting about how good everything was in a manner that left a lot of doubt as to whether he enthusiastically approved of the meal, was acting out a script of appropriate dinner reactions taught to him at some point, or – perhaps most likely – thought Fred responsible for the sad state of their meal and wanted to be encouraging.

"Hey Fred, do we need to feed you gasoline?"

Their squad leader issued a convincing gasp from his speakers. "I was so caught up in preparing this meal for you guys that I forgot to pack my gasoline."

"Oh no!" Leroy crouched in obvious preparation of a big jump. "I'll go find you some."

Then the leaping idiot was gone, bouncing through the camp.

Cleo snorted. "There is a chance he might steal gasoline, you know."

"I will be beyond impressed if he managed that trick," Fred responded. "This task force runs on battery packs and fusion generators."

"Maybe he won't come back," Nestor rumbled.

Cleo began collecting their garbage and stowing it away. "I still can't believe the government lets him sign up for military action. Even if he wasn't simpleminded, he has no skills relevant to combat. He jumps around presenting a convenient soft target to monsters."

Before too long, a grizzled old man with a prosthetic eye approached them. "Misfit Squad? We have an assignment for you. There's incursions all over the immediate area, but we spotted a rift fifty kilometers away that needs closed. You have some heavy hitters and enough carrying capacity to survive a few weeks in the wild. So we're sending you to handle it if you can or scout the threat if not. The rift is roughly south-west. It's a rare vertical tear, so you can see part of it above the treetops."

"Any idea if the terrain is kind to wheeled vehicles, sir?"

"I'd be surprised if it was. That's no different to anywhere else on this world, though."

"Then I wholeheartedly accept this mission, knowing that you chose Misfit Squad for our best qualities and not because you find us inconvenient to keep around the main body of the task force." Fred didn't sound at all sarcastic, but the old man didn't need a cutting tone of voice to figure out he was being mocked. He glared at the Rover, snapped 'you have your orders', and stalked away.

Fred made the call to depart in the morning, so everyone settled down to get some rest. The Titans didn't bother with any comforts, simply laying down on the grass and closing their eyes. Hector retrieved his pack to use as a pillow. Meanwhile Cleo made herself a nest on Fred.

Leroy didn't return until close to morning, morose about his failure to find gasoline. Their leaping idiot promptly fell asleep as they began to move out on their assigned mission, giving them more hours of peace.

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From atop Fred, Cleo scanned the horizon for threats. The Titans ranged about on path finding duty, seeking a route that wouldn't lead Fred into trouble. Hector strolled alongside the Rover, under strict orders to remain close. He continued his cultivation of chaos until his externality felt too sore to continue, then switched to mental cultivation.

Two things immediately became obvious to Hector as he opened his mental aperture.

First, there was a lot of cosmic energy on the mental band of this world. More than he'd ever encountered on any world outside of Tian itself. Hector didn't know if that was because this was a true world or if there was some other reason. Perhaps life energy and cosmic energy were compatible. Or maybe the recent battle was to blame – after all, on Earth he'd noted that places with various forms of conflict had high levels of energy on the mental band.

The other fact proved slightly more disturbing. There was an ephemeral taint of miasma on the mental band. Hector was able to reliably filter out the taint, but he found himself wrestling against the hostile intent lingering within the inimical energy. It required no cosmic energy expenditure to win that battle, but it wore away at Hector's willpower. He found it remarkably like the time he volunteered to help his elderly neighbor dig post holes for a split rail fence using only a shovel. The combination of long fence, clay soil, and inappropriate tools made the task a real slog. Over the hours, Hector found his commitment to save the old man from backbreaking work waning. He finished the job out of stubbornness, but it had been a close thing.

His poor mind felt battered and sore from use after just an hour. Yet he continued to alternate between chaos cultivation and mental cultivation. It didn't make sense to switch to aural cultivation when he might be in a fight soon. He needed a fresh aura so that he could defend himself.

They only made it ten of the estimated fifty kilometers that first day. There were no attacks, unless one counted the mundane bugs that were tormenting the two Arahants with bites and stings. Hector occasionally had to slap away a critter whose buzzing annoyed him, but his skin was impervious to the harassment of insects.

All three meals that day were a repeat of what had been offered previously. Fred had no variety in the foods he could offer them. The most precious resource, water, was being used faster than anticipated as well. The cause of that miscalculation could be explained simply: thirsty Titans.

Fred carried a large reverse osmosis purifier that could make any water safe for consumption, but first they would need to locate a body of water. When they settled in for the night, Fred set a watch schedule. He was generous, volunteering to take an entire half of the night since his need for mental rest was far less than the rest of them.

The Titan brothers took the first watch, then woke Hector and Cleo for second watch. There wasn't much to do other than pace around to ensure he didn't fall asleep due to boredom. They woke Fred for the second half of the night and resumed sleep. Leroy remained oblivious to the fact that he was excluded from watch duties.

Their second day of travel proved even less productive than the first. Only three hours into their march they encountered a ravine that, while not deep, was unsuitable for passage by a wheeled vehicle. It appeared to be a dried-up creek and its length was enough that they had a quick meeting to discuss their options.

Ajax convinced the rest of them that felling trees to create a bridge would take less time than a massive detour. So the Titans set about uprooting oaks without tools and laying them across the gap. Hector watched with a touch of amazement as they manhandled large trees. He didn't even begrudge Leroy the constant commentary of 'so strong'. The amazed exclamations were accurate, after all.

A bunch of trees tossed across a ravine did not a drive-able bridge make, however. Which led to the next redneck solution. The Titans carried Fred across with assistance from Hector's cables. All that could be said positive about that endeavor was that it did work in the end. They were exhausted by it and the Titans gulped down the last of their water.

Which led to them deviating from their initial goal. They chose a downhill direction and moved off in search of a water source. No liquid meant no lunch due to the heavy use of salt as a preservative in their rations. Fred explained several times that eating would only sap their bodies of liquid more rapidly, then ordered everyone to stop asking about food.

"Yeah," Leroy noted, "Fred don't complain none that he is hungry for gasoline."

That broke the hangry tension.

"Fred truly hasn't complained once," Ajax noted.

"You're an inspiration, Fred," Hector added on.

Fred was magnanimous of their flaws. "It's all about proper mindset, my dear subordinates. I just convinced myself that I don't need gasoline and now I'm not even hungry for it."

Their journey encountered another hurdle when old growth forest gave way to younger trees packed much closer together. After some consideration, Fred sent Cleo scouting for water. The Titans needed a break from their earlier exertions, so Hector went along for security. That proved a wise choice, because Hector was able to lift Cleo over obstructing bushes with his domain. He also could jump from tree to tree to avoid snagging his own clothes – or, should that fail, waste some cosmic energy by flying.

Cleo's keen sense of smell soon found them a dirty river. They set up on a rock at the water's edge and got to work filling the large bladder brought along for that purpose. Barely had they begun to collect the precious resource when the Arahant scout pulled Hector close to whisper into his ear.

"We're being watched."

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