Page 54 of Alien Healer's Touch

"This is worse than I expected," I admitted, surveying the changed terrain from our vantage point. "I barely recognize anything."

Kavan stood beside me, scanning the horizon with his remarkable eyes. The Nyxari's vision exceeded human capability, particularly in these poor conditions.

"The settlement lies beyond those far hills," he said, pointing to distant formations barely visible through the haze. "But the direct path appears compromised."

A vast network of newly formed crevasses cut across what would have been our most direct route. Equally concerning were the glistening pools scattered throughout the lowlands—where acidic rain had collected in natural depressions.

"Those pools will burn through protective gear in minutes," I said, recalling my training on acid burn treatments. "And we don't have much gear to begin with."

"We need not travel through them." Kavan's tail swished behind him—a contemplative movement I'd come to recognize. "We must simply find the stable path between."

I glanced at my arm again, watching as the markings adjusted their luminosity. "I think... I think we can use these to find our way."

"The markings would historically have guided healers through risky environments to find medicinal sources," Kavan agreed. "They should respond to dangers as well as benefits."

We descended carefully from our vantage point, testing the altered landscape with every step. Ground I remembered as solid now broke away at the slightest pressure. Places I would have avoided now offered stable footing. My entire knowledge of this terrain had become useless overnight.

As we approached the first acid pool, my markings flashed a warning—brightening to an almost painful intensity. The pattern of illumination even seemed to indicate direction, brightening on the side facing away from danger.

"It's acting like a compass," I murmured, turning slowly until the intensity equalized across my forearm. "This way should be safest."

We wound through the hazard maze, sometimes backtracking when faced with impassable terrain. The ravines forced us into narrow paths between acid pools, requiring precise footing and absolute focus.

"Hold," Kavan said suddenly, his hand extended to stop me.

I froze, watching as he knelt to examine what looked like ordinary soil. He pressed his palm against it, and his golden lifelines pulsed rapidly. Without explanation, he stood and guided me two meters to the right before continuing forward.

"What was that about?" I asked once we'd passed.

"Thermal instability. The ground there sits above a developing vent. It would have collapsed under our weight."

I looked back, seeing nothing different about that patch of earth compared to where we now walked. "How did you know?"

"The resonance pattern in my lifelines." He flexed his fingers. "They detect vibrational variations, heat differentials. It is... difficult to explain in words."

"Show me," I said impulsively, extending my hand.

His eyes widened slightly, but he took my hand in his. Immediately, our markings responded, brightening at the connection. Through our bond, I sensed what he felt—subtle vibrations, minute temperature changes, a complex matrix of information flowing through the golden patterns beneath his skin.

"That's incredible," I whispered, reluctantly pulling away when we needed to move on.

We continued our navigation, each using our markings to detect different dangers. Mine responded more strongly to chemical hazards and radiation, while his better detected physical instabilities and thermal anomalies. Together, we found a path where neither might have succeeded alone.

"The writings in the facility mentioned symbiotic relationships," Kavan said as we crossed a particularly narrow ledge. "I believe this is what they meant—different marking patterns specialized for complementary functions."

"So we were designed to work together," I said, testing the theory. "Nyxari and human."

"Perhaps that was the original intent, before the Great Division. Before we lost so much of our knowledge."

The implication hung between us—that what Hammond feared as alien contamination might actually be the restoration of something intentional, something beneficial to both our peoples.

The first warning came as a subtle change in air pressure. My ears popped, and beside me, Kavan went rigid. His tail straightened, and his nostrils flared as he scented the air.

"Something approaches," he whispered, barely audible.

I scanned our surroundings, seeing nothing but steam vents and rocky outcroppings. Then I caught a flash of iridescence—a subtle color shift against the gray stone that didn't match any natural formation.

"There," I breathed, indicating with the slightest finger movement.

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