The Gate Traveler-Chapter 69B5 - : Nature’s Psychedelic Palette

Rue met her glare with his best innocent puppy look, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth.

Mahya folded her arms but couldn’t keep the amusement from creeping into her expression. With a shake of her head, she sighed. “You’re a menace.”

A wave of smugness pulsed through our bond, strong enough to be almost tangible.

We drifted northeast, the balloon gliding smoothly toward the next Gate. Below, Almatai stretched out beneath us, its streets weaving between buildings like veins through stone. I scanned the city, eyes searching for any signs of unrest—smoke, scattered bodies, the jagged movement of a riot—but nothing. The streets looked calm, peaceful, at least on the surface.

Hopefully, they had a new ruler. For now, at least.

It took us three weeks to reach the next Gate. We could have made it in one, but the wind—helpful as ever—pointed out four dungeons along the way. And of course, Mahya wanted the cores.

The moment I had the direction of the first dungeon, I sighed. “We’re stopping, aren’t we?”

Mahya grinned, already adjusting the balloon’s course. “Obviously. Can’t just leave free cores behind.”

Al didn’t even look up from his book. “Indeed. It would be wasteful.”

Rue, ever eager, perked up. “Rue fight too!”

Mahya ruffled the fur on his head. “Of course.”

They handled the dungeon runs without me, which suited me just fine. Two of the dungeons didn't drop gold—one yielded a dagger with a sharpness rune, and the other a spell scroll for Wind Blade, which we already had. They took the cores since there was no point in waiting for the dungeons to regenerate just so I could run them. No complaints from me. I traded Rue a smoked eel for the knife and got a slobbery tongue bath as a bonus.

Since I had already given Mahya “permission” to handle my core back in Sanctuary, I didn’t need to be inside the dungeons for it to feast on mana. Instead, I spent my time doing something far more productive—lounging under a tree with a book. The breeze was cool, the shade just right, and I had the perfect excuse to relax.

One dungeon took longer than expected. Rue trotted over at sunset, his tail swishing as he plopped down beside me. “Mahya say take time.”

I closed my book and stretched. “That bad?”

“Big rodents.” Rue wrinkled his nose. “Lots and lots.”

I exhaled through my nose. “Lovely. So why are they still down there?”

Rue’s ears twitched. “Mahya say good ore.”

Of course. They weren’t staying for the rodents but for the loot.

Since most of my gear was in the storage halls back at the house, and Mahya hadn’t thought to send my core out, I was stuck here for the night. Not a bad thing. With no better option, I set up camp by a small clearing, got a bonfire going, and settled in. The glow of the flames flickered over Rue’s fur as he flopped down beside me.

I strummed my guitar, the familiar chords filling the night air. “You up for some music, buddy?”

Rue’s ears perked. “Rue sing too.”

I grinned. “Of course.”

What followed was a duet between a man and his oversized dog. Nostalgia hit me hard. Sitting under the stars, just the two of us, singing into the quiet of the wild—it felt like the early days of my travels. Back before I had a house built around a core. I loved that house—easily the best in the entire multiverse—but sometimes, traveling needed to be like this to truly feel like a journey.

I ran a hand through Rue’s fur. “Been a while since we did this, huh?”

Rue nudged my leg with his nose. “Rue like bonfire.”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Me too.”

Of course, it could have been better with an actual sleeping bag instead of a lounge chair. But hey, I made do, and Rue was perfectly content either way.

Finally, we reached the Gate.

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Destination: Marita

Status: Integrated

Mana Level: 24

Threat Level: Low

“Ugh!” Mahya groaned. “Another low-mana world.”

“We can pop in and out just to add it to the count and move on,” I said.

She eyed me suspiciously. “You’re not going to insist on exploring it?”

“Not if you’re so opposed.”

She gave me a thumbs-up, and we crossed the Gate.

The other side stopped me in my tracks. My breath hitched as I took in the view. We stood on a gentle rise, overlooking a shallow, fast-moving stream that carved its way through a valley, its water impossibly clear, reflecting the sky in shifting shades of blue and violet. Jagged mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks stabbing into the sky like the broken teeth of some ancient beast. Their formations were wrong—too sharp, too stretched, as if an artist had sculpted reality itself with a fondness for the dramatic.

But it wasn’t just the landscape that unsettled me—it was the colors.

Everything had its standard hues—green for the grass, gray for the rocks, white for the distant snowcaps—but the shades were off, like someone had twisted the world’s palette just a little. The trees weren’t just green; their foliage shimmered in shades of burnt orange, deep amethyst, and fiery crimson, like autumn and spring had collided. The grass carried an unnatural golden tint, and the sky above bled from soft pinks to rich indigo, streaked with swirling ribbons of emerald light.

It felt like stepping into a pastel painting that hadn’t quite dried, the edges still shifting, the pigments blending in ways that made my brain itch.

I immediately took a picture, the soft click of the camera breaking the eerie stillness. Mahya let out an exaggerated sigh, tilting her head back as if the weight of the moment was too much to bear.

“What?” I asked, lowering the camera.

She gave me a knowing look, arms crossed. “You took the camera out. That means there’s no way we’re just popping in and out. Am I wrong?”

I was busy giving her the stink eye when Al saved me.

“It is quite beautiful,” he said, his gaze sweeping the surreal landscape. “I will enjoy traveling for a while in such an atmosphere.”

Mahya huffed but didn’t argue. Go Al!

Rue bolted toward the stream, kicking up tufts of oddly colored grass before launching himself into the water with a joyful splash. Droplets shimmered unnaturally in the pastel light as he waded in, his tail wagging like a banner of triumph.

Mahya crossed her arms and shook her head, muttering, “It’s a conspiracy against my cores.”

Al and I exchanged a knowing smile, but kept our mouths shut.

We followed the stream on foot for an hour, the landscape shifting around us like a dream that hadn’t quite settled. The water glowed in the fading light, reflecting the unnatural hues of the sky, its surface broken only by scattered stones and clusters of strange moss-covered islands.

Then we stepped into something even more surreal.

The valley opened up, revealing towering spires of rock that stretched toward the sky like the fingers of some ancient giant. Mist curled lazily around their bases, catching the soft purples and pinks of the sunset. The ground rolled in unnatural undulations, draped in patches of grass that shimmered between gold and deep violet, their colors shifting subtly with the breeze. Pools of water mirrored the alien skyline, reflecting jagged peaks so sharply it was hard to tell where the land ended and the sky began.

Mahya let out a low whistle. “Well… this is new.”

Al studied the terrain with quiet admiration, his usual composed expression tinged with curiosity. “It is quite the sight.”

Rue padded to the edge of a pool, sniffed at his reflection, then sneezed. His ears flicked. “This place not right.”

I had to agree. Everything about this place felt just a little off—like we had stepped into a painting that was still in the process of being created. The colors bled into each other, the air carried a faint hum, and the distant rock formations seemed to shift when I wasn’t looking directly at them.

I snapped another picture. “We’re definitely not just popping in and out.”

Mahya groaned. “Knew it.”

We continued on, and when the sun finished setting, the real show began.

I had seen night skies on a few worlds, but nothing had prepared me for this.

The first stars flickered into existence but didn’t twinkle like they should. They pulsed, shifting in color, some burning violet, others swirling with deep blues and molten gold. Then the sky itself came alive.

Ribbons of light unfurled across the heavens, like ink spreading through water. Wisps of luminous purple and electric blue wove together, swirling and stretching as if some unseen force was painting new constellations in real time. Great arcs of celestial fire spiraled overhead, merging into nebula-like formations that shimmered and changed with every breath of wind.

A massive vortex of light and energy churned high above, a slow-spinning whirlpool of cosmic color, casting rippling reflections onto the still waters below. It wasn’t just an aurora; it was something alive. The sky wasn’t a distant ceiling of stars—it was moving, breathing, shifting as if responding to the land beneath it.

Mahya sucked in a breath beside me. “What… what is this?”

Al’s gaze was locked upward, eyes wide. “A sky unlike any other.” His voice, usually so composed, held the barest trace of awe.

I took some more pictures, but for the first time, I knew the camera wouldn’t do it justice.

We stayed up all night, mesmerized by the shifting sky. And as dawn broke, I was glad we had—because the sunrise was just as breathtaking.

As the first light crept over the jagged peaks in the distance, the sky shifted from deep indigo to a riot of colors—rich oranges, dusky purples, and soft blues melting together like ink swirling through water. The reflection on the still lake below made it feel like we were caught between two skies, one above and one beneath, blurring the boundary between reality and illusion.

Golden light kissed the snow-capped mountains, turning them into glowing sentinels against the ever-changing sky. The forests along the water’s edge stood tall and unmoving, their dark silhouettes stark against the luminous dawn. But the real magic was in the plants.

Clusters of spiky, alien flora, bursting in hues of violet and fiery orange, sat nestled in the shallows. As the sunlight touched them, they shimmered—petals unfurling as if waking up, their edges glowing softly with a bioluminescent pulse. Tiny ripples spread outward as they moved, sending reflections dancing across the water.

Mahya let out a long breath. “I take it back. This world is worth visiting.”

Al’s eyes were still locked on the surreal landscape. “It is… beyond beautiful.”

I took another picture. Still wouldn’t do it justice.

The closest town on the map was far, and honestly, I didn’t feel the need to travel this world in earnest. Low mana worlds weren’t particularly exciting, and I didn’t want to upset Mahya—she had a point. There wasn’t much to do here.

But still… the colors, the landscape, the sheer surreal beauty of Marita—it was worth lingering.

“We’re staying a little while, aren’t we?” Mahya asked, arms crossed, but her tone had no real bite.

I shrugged, adjusting the lens on my camera. “We should enjoy the journey.”

She groaned, but Al, ever the diplomat, chimed in smoothly. “Considering the unique palette of this world, it would be a shame to rush through it.”

And so, we stayed.

For a week, we drifted through Marita’s skies, drinking in the impossible scenery. I took picture after picture, trying—and failing—to capture the ethereal strangeness of it all. Mahya and Al, now that we had two flying swords, spent their time racing each other across the sky, twisting and weaving through rock formations and glowing clouds.

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Rue, meanwhile, spent most of the week glaring at me.

The first time he did it, I sighed. “Alright, what?”

“Where Rue’s sword?” He stared at me, ears pinned back in a sulk.

“You can fly already.”

“Not same.” His mental voice radiated pure betrayal. “Want zoom.”

“Flying is flying.”

“Not zoom.”

No matter how much I reasoned, he refused to be appeased. Every time Mahya and Al took off, he shot me another wounded, accusatory glance, as if I had personally crushed his dreams.

Eventually, after a week of floating through a dreamworld, it was time to move on.

“We done?” Mahya asked, hands on her hips.

I exhaled, giving the world one last look before nodding. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

The moment we stepped through, the dream shattered. Marita’s breathtaking colors vanished, replaced by Zindor’s gray, dungeon-rich bleakness.

Rue sighed. “Very ugly.”

Mahya rolled her shoulders. “Well, back to work.”

And just like that, the journey continued.