The chrysalis splitting open was a shock even to Labradorite Five-Four-Six, who had only been in there for two or three weeks, now. He'd only been vaguely aware of himself in the last few hours, and aware of the stifling warmth the chrysalis brought. He knew his shoulder hadn't fully recovered. It felt stiff, but no longer painful-- and he was fairly sure the vulture that attacked him had raked away the fur.

No one else had scars when they emerged, so why was he coming out before it had healed?

Sensing he didn't exactly have a choice in the matter, however, the creature delivered a firm kick to the chrysalis. The hairline cracks marking their away across the smooth stone expanded at once; coming apart. Labradorite lifted himself out wearily; his shoulders aching and his eyes bleary.

He was preparing himself to run through Hydra again-- as he always did --spending precious moments to stretch his long limbs before being commanded to turn and enter the desert, when the old gembound noticed something potentially very important.

There was no Merchant.

No Overseer.

Just him, and the chrysalises.

Some had broken apart already, and others were still inside, waiting to wake up. If they would ever wake up.

There was a brief shot of panic that surged through him. A different sort of fear, he cared to notice, from the sort that he felt while running through Hydra. He wasn't afraid of the vultures, or the spiders, or what might happen if Vargas happened to catch up to him.

No, this was more... an existential fear. If he wasn't supposed to face Hydra, and had no one there to tell him what to do, what was he meant to do? What could he do? Walk into Hydra anyway? Was this a test?

The Labradorite clenched his jaw. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Desert Rose's chrysalis still there, still waiting. Surely, it'd be alright if he waited for his brother? Would he know what to do?

In absolute silence, the lanky creature slid close to the chrysalis and sat, waiting, his breathing shallow.

Before consciousness slammed into Thirty-Five, he dreamed.

He dreamed of a world where he was free. Where he and his brother could coexist in peace. Where he didn't have to run, not anymore.

The feeling of confinement was disappointing, to say the least. Ever so slightly, he began to wake, brown eyelids parting to reveal stark blue underneath. His joints ached, still, and he felt sore, as if he'd slept on his limbs in all the wrong ways. It wasn't like a shock to wake up, not like normal. No, he was allowed to take his time.

Even with that time, Thirty-Five urged his body to action, confusion washing over the dragon as the fog in his brain clouded his connection to his muscles. This wouldn't do at all, not if someone was calling him once more to run again.

Despite his perceived hours of anguish as his mind connected back to his body, it took only mere minutes after he woke for a dull, orange claw broke through the sandy chrysalis outside. Hot and stuffy air flooded through the opening. Thirty-Five winced at the struggle before pushing out further, his crowned head breaking through. Caves, was he tired, still. How long had it been this time?

His first sight was the sandy wall before him, looming high. There was no crowd, no Merchant or Overseer. Instead, his brother welcomed him back into the world.

Thirty-Five, despite his hard features, seemed to soften immediately, dragging his body out of his shell as he came closer to Five-Four-Six. "You're alive," he sighed out breathily, dry air flooding through his lungs and out through his throat. Slowly, he reached closer to touch noses with his brother. That last trial was almost too much for him- the strain, the flood, it was all too fresh in his mind.

Coming to his senses, Thirty-Five glanced around. There really wasn't anyone else here, except for the other chrysalises. After a beat, he murmured softly, as if Vargas himself was breathing down his neck. "Where is everyone?" Nervousness tinged his words as he sat side-saddle on the floor.

Enough time passed by that Labradorite Five-Four-Six managed to lay himself down on his gut, his head nestled between his legs. He even shut his eyes, once or twice, before he heard the sound of another chrysalis shattering. Thankfully, it was his brother-- he wouldn't have to deal with some damn arcane-lizard or some other wholly useless gemling.

A large ear flickered as he lifted his head, watching his brother break out of his gemstone prison. He shifted, half-pushing up to meet his face against Desert Rose's, half-shutting his eyes. There was, at least, some comfort in this-- he was distracted from the fear.

"We both are," he murmured, half-wary that, perhaps, they weren't supposed to be awake. It was brightly lit now, but who knew when that might change? Five-Four-Six shuddered quietly, frowning and gritting his teeth briefly.

He turned his slender head, nodding over. "They're still in there," he spoke quietly, pushing up to slowly circle a shattered chrysalis, his paws silent against the cave floor. "Some of them seem to have left already but I don't know where they went."

A part of him, a tiny part of him, told him they didn't leave willingly.

Ahh. There comes back that stifling fear. The fur on his back rose along his spine as he paced back towards Desert Rose, his head and ears low. "I don't know why we woke up. I don't know if this is a test," he said, his voice almost above a whisper. "I don't know what to do."

Anxious blue eyes flitted over the creature in front of them, the owner's long tail curling closer. Judging by the expressions, something was wrong.

Terribly wrong.

Thirty-Five glanced to where Five-Four-Six's snout pointed, his claws flexing into the sandy floor. The uneven hatchings of the others caused a flutter of anxiety in his chest. Normally, they'd all hatch at once. They'd all run at once. Was this another trial?

Thirty-Five's wings fluttered as his brother returned. His muscles tensed, thoughts swirled in his brain. Something was definitely wrong. The others, were they gone? Did Vargas take them? Were these ones left behind, ones that didn't pass whatever test they had to prove? Thirty-Five's throat constricted as saliva grew heavy and sticky in his mouth. Were they supposed to wake up?

Shutting his eyes, Thirty-Five shoved the fears deep, deep down and reached forward once more to touch his brother, the contact sought out to bring him back to the present. "I.. I don't know. I think we'll be okay- We'll be okay," he huffed, his voice strained as he convinced himself to stay true to his words. They weren't going to be okay. This was wrong, it was all wrong, they were wrong. Were they broken? Were they failures? Were they going to die? Why didn't they die?

"We- we can't wait here and see. We need food. We need to- to find safety. I don't know if we're supposed to be here, if we're supposed to.." His voice trailed in his panic-driven ramblings, his limbs drawn close as he pressed closer to his brother. "We... I don't know." His heart hammered in his ears, eyes and mouth clenched shut. "I wish I knew, I- We- We aren't... We didn't.. Fail.. We lived, we- we brought back the things..." Thirty-Five's throat locked up as he held back gross sobs, withdrawing his panicked head back to his chest. Was it because they attacked the others? Was it because they stayed alone, together? The dragon didn't know, and it terrified him.

To say that Labradorite was the braver out of the two brothers would have been an absolute joke. At heart, he was a coward through and through-- he fled from conflict of all sorts and allowed fear to control the majority of his decisions. But that sort of thing had kept him alive in Hydra, which was looking like the exact opposite of the place he wanted to be right now.

But right now, that much didn't matter. This wasn't the life-or-death situation that he had grown accustomed to while running through the desert, this was something else. He needed his brother to be strong, and he needed to be strong for his brother.

He forced the fear down, bottling it away for another, quieter moment on his own.

Five-Four-Six turned his head to groom the back of Desert Rose's head, matting down the tufts of pale fur and the base of his ears. A reassuring gesture, if nothing else-- somehow, even the taste of gravelly sand in his mouth was a comfort.

"Of course we didn't fail," he said, his voice wavering a little more than he would have liked. "We know what happens to the ones that fail. We're still here."

He spent a moment looking up and down the tunnel, pupilless eyes scanning the tunnel. They would have to eat, and drink-- and move--. Who knows what might burst out of Hydra..? --but there was no sign of an Overseer.

"Perhaps we're early," the old champion reasoned, pushing himself up onto his feet. It did not occur to him that there might not be any more trials for him and his brother to run through-- it was all he knew. Even now, he was wandering down a tunnel he barely knew towards a room he had no memory nor knowledge of.

What even lay beyond Hydra? Was this the next trial? Was this what they were meant to be tested for?

Needless to say, Labradorite Five-Four-Six didn't get particularly far in his trek. A mere few steps later and he was slowing to a stop, craning his neck back to squint towards his brother. "What's down here?" He asked uncertainly.

Surely, just an Overseer?

Thirty-Five seemed to relax immediately at the touch, his eyes fluttering as he craned his neck down. It was a grounding experience. He had to be strong, be brave, things he wasn't usually. He could use his social confidence and warp it into a general confidence, perhaps. A soft, reptilian purr ran through the back of his throat as he turned his head, nuzzling for a brief moment into his brother's shoulder.

They were still here. The question of why though hung violently over Desert Rose. The answer wasn't even out of reach. It was nowhere to be found in the landscape of his mind. The lack of memory he found while searching caused a minor panic that he managed to swallow down with a huff. They did trials- it's all he remembered, not even their hatching, or even living outside of the trials. Hydra was their home. They were alive, and didn't fail, and yet they weren't in Hydra.

The dragon turned his attention to the other chrysalises in the mouth of the tunnel. "I don't know. Some of them are already cracked," he pointed out. He stepped away, briefly, to examine the shards of a discarded chrysalis, blank blue eyes taking it all in in confusion.

His large ears perked forward when he heard the faint tell-tale tapping of Labradorite's claws against the floor. It took all he could muster to not shout, to not stamp his feet and question where he was going. Besides, there wasn't anywhere else to go. One forlorn glance to Hydra and Desert Rose jogged to walk behind his brother, tail lashing behind him in a motion of upset energy.

Thirty-Five hesitated when the query was thrown back at him. "I... Don't know," he confessed. Whatever lapse in his memory existed, it must have swallowed this tunnel, too, in its yearning void. A dry swallow passed through his long throat before he paced past his brother, his legs going near weak into walking into the unknown. "We have to find out. Maybe an Overseer's down here, or another person who knows what's going on."

He didn't sound very confident at that. His voice wavered along with his muscles as he trudged forward, as if he were pressing against an invisible mental force restraining him to die in the desert of Hydra. After several steps, he paused, looking back to Five-Four-Six in anxiety. His tail-tip continued to sway unhappily.

Labradorite Five-Four-Six let out a faint huff as he shoved his head against his brother's face in a brief nuzzle, though his attention mostly remained on the tunnel leading away from Hydra. Not unkindly or dismissively, but thoughtfully-- trying to weigh his options, judge if this was the right idea.

But what else were they supposed to do? Run back into Hydra?

I think the fuck not, he thought spitefully, spitting on the ground.

He took a long breath, and then he continued to pace down the tunnel, his eyes grazing over the rows of chrysalises. Surely, the ones that had already broken out where elsewhere-- not in Hydra, surely? Whatever was down here-- even an Overseer, like Desert Rose suggested --had to be... alive, at least. Not a failure.

"Perhaps," he murmured, moving along at a steady pace. His shoulder still ached-- the wounds had been deep, and made only worse by the hours of running through Hydra. Even the rest in the chrysalis hadn't done much for it-- he would have had to stay in there longer, but at least it wasn't bleeding out anymore.

He huffed again. "We can at least see if there's anything to hunt down here," he said. "Though I don't know what we'll find."

Judging the creatures in Hydra, Labradorite didn't exactly want to see what the hell else the caves had to offer.

Desert Rose nodded lightly to his brother. Part of him winced at the spit- an innate sense told him that they had to keep their water in their bodies. An instinct carried from his time in Hydra, no doubt, but it set the scales over his haunches flaring in the slightest.

Weren't they trying to get away from Hydra? One look back confirmed his thoughts. No. He wasn't going back, he couldn't. Setting his jaw and closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath of the sands and heat. It struck him that it was the first time he'd ever smelled Hydra without the underlying scent of sweat and fear. No- the tang of his fear underlied the dust striking his nose. After a huff, he inhaled once more and shut his nostrils. He wouldn't forget. He couldn't. It was the only thing he remembered.

His task complete, he returned to his brother, moving to pace next to him. It was the first time they could take their time. Here, up close, he could roll his eyes down to the angry pink lashes across his brother's shoulders. The joints of his wings twitched in sympathy. The vulture dug deeper than he thought if it marred the fox's flesh. Discreetly, Thirty-Five lowered his neck to investigate with his senses. It wasn't bleeding, or even dangerously scabby, and yet it set alarms in his mind. They must have not been in the chrysalis for long if his body hadn't healed fully.

The dragon's long lungs inflated in a sigh as he trudged on. "I could go for something that doesn't want to kill us," he spoke nonchalantly, as if tossing the words out in a response. He didn't wait for one in return, continuing on into the unknown.

Labradorite Five-Four-Six snorted loudly, though amusedly, his ears flicking briefly backwards. He didn't stop either-- he kept walking alongside his brother down the tunnel towards the cooler, fresher air-- away from the stifling heat of Hydra.

"I could go for more company that doesn't want to kill us, too," he said. It was no exact secret that the other champions could scarcely be trusted, at least. At any given moment, you'd have to suspect that they might turn around and obliterate an alliance for their own gain. The only person Labradorite trusted-- and expected to be trusted by --was his brother.

A few steps later and he noticed a dim light at the end of the tunnel, where the (comparitively) cold air was coming from. "Come on," he instructed curtly, speeding up. "There's something new up ahead."