The Greenhouse Belt ruins were aptly named. Unlike the stark metal and concrete decay of the Industrial Sector or the subterranean gloom of the sewers, this region was characterized by colossal, shattered geodesic domes and crumbling hydroponic facilities, now overgrown with a riot of mutated vegetation. Twisted, phosphorescent vines choked skeletal frameworks, and giant, pallid fungi pulsed with faint Aetheric light in the shadowed undergrowth. The air was thick with humidity and the smell of rampant, unnatural growth.
Rhys and Boulder moved through this hazardous jungle with heightened caution. The very plants seemed hostile, thorny creepers snatching at their clothes, spores puffing into the air that made Rhys's eyes water and his Echo Sense fuzz momentarily. Mutated insects buzzed loudly, and unseen things rustled in the dense foliage. Rhys kept his senses peeled, tracking the unique botanical Aether signature he'd detected, leading them deeper into the Belt.
It emanated from a large, surprisingly intact geo-dome nestled in a crater-like depression, its composite panels miraculously less damaged than its neighbors, allowing a filtered, greenish light to illuminate the interior. As they cautiously approached the ridge overlooking the dome, planning their infiltration, movement flickered at the edge of Rhys's perception.
Not creatures this time. Humans. Moving with practiced coordination, clad in worn but functional gear marked with the insignia Rhys vaguely recalled – a stylized mountain peak against a crescent moon. The Vance family, or what remained of their sect's retainers. And leading them, scanning the geo-dome with a focused intensity, was Lyra Vance.
She looked different from their last tense encounter in Meridian's underbelly. The slight uncertainty he remembered was gone, replaced by a hardened resolve etched onto her features. Her movements were precise, economical, her eyes sharp and assessing. Her cultivation felt stronger too, a stable Earth-aspected energy radiating from her, likely late Aether Pool or early Aetherium Conduit equivalent in Rhys's terms – comparable to his current stage, perhaps slightly ahead in raw power density, but lacking his sensory breadth. Her four companions looked equally grim and competent, their own Aether signatures resonating with Earth or Wood affinities.
Before Rhys could signal Boulder to pull back, one of Lyra's guards, possessing sharper senses than Rhys had anticipated, spotted movement on the ridge. A shouted warning, and instantly, weapons were raised – crossbows, short swords pulsing faintly with Qi. Lyra spun around, her eyes locking onto Rhys.
Recognition dawned, followed by immediate suspicion. "You!" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the humid air. "The sewer rat with the strange energy signature. What are you doing here?"
Rhys instinctively raised his hands slightly, signaling non-aggression, though Boulder tensed beside him, gripping his pry bar. "Just scavenging," Rhys replied, his voice calm, projecting none of the internal alarm he felt. "Same as you, I imagine."
Lyra scoffed, though her eyes narrowed, assessing his current state. She could likely feel the change in his Aether – more stable, denser than before, carrying the faint, complex resonance of his Water-Fire-Air balance. "Scavenging here? This deep into the Belt? Unlikely. This dome contains specific resources." Her gaze was challenging. "Resources my family needs."
"Resources anyone exploring these ruins might stumble upon," Rhys countered smoothly, keeping his tone neutral. He subtly used his Echo Sense to gauge their Aether levels, their readiness, the surrounding environment for potential escape routes or tactical advantages.
"He's the one from the reports," one of Lyra's guards muttered to her, loud enough for Rhys to overhear. "The one causing trouble near the Undermarket fringe, asking about catalysts. Matches the description."
Lyra's eyes hardened further. "Catalysts? So, you are pursuing some deviant path." She took a step forward, her Earth-aspected energy flaring slightly, grounding her, making her seem more solid, immovable. "This dome contains the Moonpetal Bloom. An essential ingredient for stabilizing Qi during advanced Foundation Establishment and purifying meridian pathways. It belongs to those who follow the true Dao, not… opportunists dabbling in forbidden arts."
Rhys felt a jolt. Moonpetal Bloom. The name resonated. It had to be related to the Moonpetal Dew Kaelen mentioned. And Lyra knew its purpose, tying it directly to traditional cultivation advancement. The unique botanical signature he'd tracked wasn't just rare; it was a known, vital resource for established cultivators.
"The 'true Dao' seems fragmented on this Shattered Continent," Rhys retorted, unable to resist the jab. "My path allows me to survive, to adapt using what the world offers. Yours relies on hoarding scraps of ancient knowledge and fighting over rare flowers." He saw anger flash in her eyes but also a flicker of frustration, perhaps acknowledging the truth in his words regarding her family's struggles.
"Regardless," Lyra snapped, regaining her composure. "We were here first. This resource is vital for my family's continuation. Leave now, scavenger, and we can avoid unnecessary conflict."
Rhys considered. Fighting them would be difficult. Five trained cultivators against him and Boulder. Even with his recent improvements and tricks, the odds weren't good. But retreating meant abandoning the lead on the final, essential catalyst.
Before he could formulate a response, a deep, guttural roar echoed from within the geo-dome, powerful enough to make the ground tremble slightly. It wasn't the sound of any mutated insect or typical beast Rhys had encountered. It sounded large, primal, and angry. Simultaneously, faint energy fluctuations pulsed from the dome's structure – perhaps a damaged security system reacting to the creature's movement or their own presence nearby.
Lyra and her guards instantly shifted their attention towards the dome, weapons tightening in their grips, expressions grim. The standoff between them and Rhys was immediately overshadowed by the emergence of a far more immediate, shared threat.
Lyra shot Rhys a sharp, appraising look. "Whatever guards that Bloom… it's clearly awake."
The air crackled with tension. Attack each other over the prize later? Retreat and lose the chance? Or… face the unknown danger within the dome together, postponing their rivalry for the sake of mutual survival and the potential reward? The roar echoed again, closer this time. A decision had to be made, instantly.