32: Dolphins

By morning, the forest finally released them.

The canopy thinned, the air grew lighter, and the path opened into a stretch of barren hills. Behind them, the trees loomed like a wall, their shadows clinging to the clearing where they had camped. Tanuki glanced back once, half‑expecting to see the wolves waiting at the edge. But the forest was still. Too still.

Atlas adjusted his shield straps with a grunt. “If the rest of this trip is like that, we’re screwed.”

NV said nothing, but her eyes lingered on the treeline as if memorizing it. Celeste walked ahead, the Tarot pulsing faintly in her hand, its glow tugging them forward.

By midday, the hills gave way to sand. The air shimmered with heat, though the sun above was pale and glitching, sometimes flickering into a crescent, sometimes vanishing entirely.

The beacon pulled them toward a cracked trade road that stretched across the dunes. The stones were half‑buried, their textures flickering between cobblestone and raw gridlines.

That was when they saw it. A caravan.

At first, it looked ordinary: a line of camels, wagons laden with crates, merchants walking alongside. But then Tanuki realized something was wrong.

They were moving backward.

The camels stepped in reverse, hooves dragging across the sand. The wagons rolled against the slope, wheels spinning the wrong way. But something was amiss about the merchants.

They had the heads of dolphins.

Smooth, gray skin gleamed under the pale, flickering sun. Their long snouts opened and closed, but instead of clicks or whistles, distorted human voices spilled out.

“Have you seen my cat?” one asked, over and over, his dolphin mouth stretching unnaturally with each repetition.
“Have you seen my cat? Have you seen my cat?”

Another merchant whispered something else, his dolphin eyes glassy and unblinking.
“…contain… breach… contain… breach…”

Then his model collapsed into polygons, scattering like shards of glass before reforming. He fell back into step, still walking backward, still whispering.

Atlas swore, raising his shield instinctively. “That’s not right. That’s not right at all.”

NV’s eyes narrowed. “They’re not hostile. Yet.”

Tanuki’s throat tightened. “What are they?”

Celeste stepped closer, her cloak flickering. She reached out toward one of the wagons as it passed. For a moment, the texture peeled away, revealing something beneath, a faint logo that shouldn’t exist in this world.

She pulled her hand back quickly.

“What did you see?” Tanuki asked.

Celeste hesitated. “Nothing. Just… noise.”

But her eyes betrayed her.

The caravan continued past them, still moving backward, still whispering through dolphin mouths that opened too wide, too human.

Then one of the wagons jolted violently. The crates strapped to it burst open, scattering across the sand. Instead of goods, fragments of code spilled out, glowing symbols that writhed like insects before dissolving into the air.

The dolphin‑headed merchants didn’t react. They simply kept walking, their voices overlapping into a chorus of broken lines.

“Have you seen my cat?”
“…contain… breach…”
“The harvest is late.”
“…don’t let it out…”

The sound rose, distorted, until Tanuki clapped his hands over his ears. Then, just as suddenly, the caravan was gone.

The road was empty. The sand was undisturbed. The party stood in silence, the heat pressing down on them.

Atlas lowered his shield slowly. “Tell me I didn’t just see that.”

NV’s voice was sharp. “We all did.”

Tanuki’s HUD flickered, his minimap still blank. He turned to Celeste. “What was that?”

Celeste looked down at the Tarot in her hand. Its glow pulsed faintly, steady, as if nothing had happened.

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “But it’s leading us deeper.”

Tanuki swallowed hard, his grip tightening on his daggers. The forest had been a trap. The caravan had been a warning.

Whatever lied ahead, they had no choice but to keep moving through this nightmare.

After a while, Tanuki stared at the empty road, his chest tight. The sand was smooth, undisturbed, as if nothing had passed at all.

But he could still turn and see the merchants’ bodies walking backward, their dolphin heads opening and closing, voices spilling out in broken human words.

Atlas spat into the sand. “I don’t care what that was. If I never see it again, it’ll be too soon.”

NV said nothing, but her eyes flicked once toward Celeste.

Celeste kept her gaze on the Tarot, its glow steady, her expression unreadable.

Tanuki swallowed hard. He knew they wouldn’t talk about it again. But the image lingered, carved into his mind like a scar. The dolphins.