The next and extended outing started off very insipidly. Ridge had to ensure Quennel clang onto his feet as they got thrusted from the ground. The older man was hanging on for no life; his grip was loose as he insouciantly looked around. Ridge snarled and shouted, "Quenn, I won't hold any accountability for your suicide!"

   Quennel looked up and said, "Suicide, in Haven? That's unlikely. They'd think it was falling accidentally from the tip of the Wing Monument. Neither suicide nor murder happen here."

   "Actually, it'd be good riddance if I just shake you off me!"

   The two peeked their heads out of the exit and Ridge helped Quennel up as he, in all casualness, walked out while carrying the ball clicker with the Riskometer. As Ridge closed the safe door, Quennel squinted at the pinpoints of sparkles on the moving tramcar from afar, his head askew and his face unreadable. Once the safe door was shut, he turned to Ridge, "Mr. Kindler, no matter how many fireflies from Nevah you get and stipple on the tramcar, you will not be able to spot the glow they exude from above the Nevanese ground. And if you think that other fireflies will hover above this spot due to necropheses or some attraction, you're mistaken. Fireflies are an exception."

   "You think that's why they're there? Really, Quenn?" Ridge scoffed. He pointed at the other half of the Diurnal Bridge sticking out as the sun was far west through it, "I have the Diurnal Bridge and the falcons as sources of pinpointing." He nodded up at the circle of falcons as he raised his hand to feed them the cashew compressed filament with the QR code. One immediately plummeted and gobbled it up from his hand.

   Quennel let out a whistle of impressiveness, "You could've easily ate it, but you fear that the substance of the very secret code could be on the governors' radar."

   "I'm a cautious guy, Quenn," Ridge said as he started walking away, "and the fireflies prove that too."

   On their gait, Ridge explained the purpose of the fireflies to Quennel. Afterwards, Quennel let out another whistle, "How inventive. And you say that those fireflies are not ephemeral like the ones in Haven?"

   "They're not. They last forever. I've done some experiments." Ridge stated with a wag of his finger.

   Quennel nodded and took out his book. He wrote down his first impression on the Outdoors, presumed Ridge. While looking ahead of him, he wrote and spoke, "Mr. Kindler, did you know that the word extended in reverse is 'ded nexte'?"

   "It's a warning to show that you're dead next?"

   "No. When you move the e 5 spaces to the left, you get 'deed next'. Deed next is incorrect, but only when swapped should it be correct. You get 'next deed'. Going out on extended outings is your next deed, even if it meant being a full-time Riskmaster."

   Quennel jotted it down on his book- while staring at Ridge hauntingly- and showed it to him. The latter wagged his finger at the other content written above as his eyes drifted away from the text. He looked at Quennel and asked eerily, "You're including judiciary characters in your novel?"

   "Yes, as the antagonists." Quennel answered. He gave a tight-lipped smile and said, "The main characters and the judiciary characters are at odds with each other. It's because the judiciary characters stand by their rules that should be changed due to how restricting and outdated they are."

   "Rules are rules, and they can't be fickle." Ridge lied as he got rid of a nearby cactus that had mouths on the end of each cacti. He did not want to admit that he thought otherwise, and Quennel could have been testing Ridge to see if Ridge was against the governors or not. Sure, Quennel also hated the governors' guts, but that would not mean that he is against the rules. Except for "Never visit Nevah".

   Ridge sighed, "Back to what we were on, what do you mean that going out on extended outings is my next deed? And why my? Aren't we in this together?"

   Quennel said as he watched Ridge shake his Riskometer at a big anthill, "Now we are, but I did not come up with the setup to extend the outings. You never warned me about extending the outings in the first place. Moreover, extended outings can bog your balance down between peace and craze. Just like the hive effect, your mentality will become influenced by your surroundings. The Riskmaster will become wild, in a bad way. It's real, Mr. Kindler. The mind is fickle."

   "You're beginning to sound like the judiciary characters yourself..."

   The two continued walking until they reached a point where a volcano that was over two thousand and fife hundred meters was in view. It served a rather calm backdrop as what was in view before that could frighten the toughest of all; carcasses, torn out limbs and disarticulated bones that have been charred, and stacks of meteorites. The charred limbs and bones...Was this because of a volcanic eruption?

    Both stopped walking and Quennel smiled slightly at Ridge, "Time to clean up."

  "It's not cleaning up, it's getting-"

   The pocketwatch struck 56 riskons. (LVI r-kons.)

   Right there, the ground trembled against its will. Ridge was interrupted against his will. Both their eyes widened against their will. Over there, a behemoth of molten lava and grass as its fur hurtled towards the two at its fours. When it opened its mouth, its braided tongue curled out of its giant mouth.

   Ridge smirked and raised a hand at the other struck man, "Leave it to me, Quenn."

   Quennel scoffed and warned while hugging his bag, "Getting rid of it would be unwise, and even when you try to make a meteorite hit it, its grass coat will be sure to protect him."

   "One second..." Ridge muttered as his eyes darted at a tower of meteorites and the grass creature back and forth. He aimed the Riskometer at the lowest boulder and shook it clockwise. The light beam coming out of it shone on it and immediately brought it into the Riskometer. This caused the meteorites that were above the previous one to come down crashing. The tower let out a soft groan of protest. For a split second, it wobbled precariously, the balance of it visibly strained. It leaned over and the meteorites tumbled down in a chaotic cascade of metal pieces. With startling crashes, the meteorites stood in the creature's way. Since its legs were very reptilian-like that were unproportional to its large body, it could not jump over it or move around it as the animal was only focused on the two. It screeched as it tried to devour the meteorites by unbraiding its tongue and having all three ends bring them into his mouth.

   Ridge on the meantime picked up a shard of a meteorite and took out a piece of pyrite from the stand of the Riskometer using the shard. Quennel smirked once he realized Ridge's move and stepped aside. Ridge struck the piece of pyrite onto the shard of meteorites in grating fashion. Due to the flammablity of the pyrite, a fire ignited from the shard. He wasted no time in passing some of the flames onto another shard and giving it to Quennel- who took it like a nurse's helper taking a syringe, sucking the first shard into the Riskometer, pointing it at the creature, and ejecting the fiery shard out by shaking it counterclockwise and applying the pocketwatch to its r-kons.

   The shard hit the creature straight at its face. It screamed in agony as the fire dispersed via the grass. Quennel, taking Ridge's wagging finger as a signal, flicked the fiery shard in his hand towards the agape creature. It landed on its tongue right when the fire extinguished, so that when it braided its tongue back to cease the burning, the shard acted as a clogger to stop it from sticking its tongue out anymore. The creature closed its mouth instantly and tried to continue its pursuit limnly as its whole figure emanated flames. It finally reached its breaking point as it, like a statue, froze midair and let its body crumble under the weight of the fire.

   Ridge freed a breath he did not know he was holding. Quennel carried his bag normally- by that he slung it over his elbow as if it is a purse- and walked towards the inferno statue of a creature. His pupilless eyes bored into the creature's glaring ones. Ridge walked too so he was beside Quennel but more warily and said, "I was wondering if I could leave the fires do the cleaning- er, ridding of all the risks in this area. The volcano is obviously dormant."

   Quennel hummed then replied, "Won't do. Cremating it then getting rid of everything else altogether will do. It doesn't pose a risk anymore, and even if you used your Riskomifiers on them, its ashes will ruin the light beam that comes out of the Riskometer. It's the best option."

   "Not our only one, though!" Ridge negotiated. He defiantly huffed and asked Quennel as he started tearing a paper from his book, "What're you going to do?"

   "When someone stumbles upon this here," Quennel started as he wrote on it while looking at Ridge, making scraping noises. He continued, "they will know that it should be left here untouched and later will return to have their eyes as wide and stretched as history. I want this to be proof that the Riskmaster exists. When they read the message that introduces the Riskmaster and how we can corroborate it by getting rid of the creature being assailed by ruthless fire, they will be skeptical at first but will give it the benefit of the doubt. They will leave and return after 3 hours, as I mentioned in the message. You will simply get rid of the still scalding creature when we come back. We could explore around the volcano then come back here, and when the message is taken we will take it as our cue. Do not worry. Your Riskometer is still going to be kept in secret. I want them to know that the Riskmaster exists only. It will make an interesting story."

   "Why did he say 'when' instead of 'if'? There's no way a Nevanese would know anyway." Ridge thought with a frown. He dismissed it and thought aloud, "That is a good plan and all, but aren't the Nevanese illiterate?"

   "Not to Schutbi tongue. That's the name of their language."

   Ridge looked at Quennel as if he was an Academy student who jumped over all conondrums by cheating. He said slowly, "How do you know the name of their language- and from where did you learn it?"

   "Just like you, Mr Kindler, I have my own secrets. It'd be unfair to share more to someone who still didn't explain what the Riskomifiers are."

   Ridge felt Quennel's ambiguity send him over the cliff now. He sighed and nodded. "Okay then." He resigned as he fished his jacket pocket and handed a package of crushed cashews to Quennel. He said, "Hold this for now. I am going to get rid of everything else. I wouldn't want my precious cashews to distract me since I'm starving. You can have some now if you want."

   Like an anti-eating automaton, Quennel tossed it back fitfully and turned back to the message. He said, "Those are the Riskomifiers, aren't they?"

   Ridge stared at Quennel with a wide-eyed expression and spat out, "Why would the cashews I eat be the Riskomifiers, huh?"

   "You don't eat crushed ones. You eat whole ones." Quennel took out his glasses and pointed at the package before letting it perch on the tip of his nose again. "I'm sure these wouldn't appeal to your ravenous appetite. Plus, you eat from the package of cashews that is stuffed in your left pocket, not right or chest pocket. And you just confirmed it right when you offered me to carry the package merely after my refusal to let you in on my secrets. It was very microscopically subtle, but you were angry at me and wanted to get rid of me. Or at least for the interim since you could eject me out."

   Ridge snorted and wagged his finger, "With due respect, Quenn, but that's just stupid! You need to be non-functional so you I could use the Riskometer on you."

   "And by non-functional you mean in terms of neurons, yes? Only your brain has to be unfunctional to be sucked into the Riskometer. Why is it that animals with zip-zero mental capacity and a thousand survival, prey or predator instincts can get sucked in while still alive? Humans are different. You can knock me out, and that's all you need to do to get rid of me temporarily." Quennel gave a banal laugh, "I appreciate your strive for righteousness, but now you need me and I need this outing."

   "Damn it! I should've concealed the package and gave it to him after we get out of here. Such an illogical blunder. Good riddance to logic, Ridge..."

   With a twinge of rage, Ridge snatched the package back and turned his nose back to the matter at hand. While he set the paper on the creature's tongue, Quennel watched the Riskmaster shake the Riskometer and vacuum all of the filth in the area save for the burning carcass of the creature, as if watching a concilliating kaleidoscope show being fully projected on the sky. Despite its odious nature, he derived some pleasure from the display of the Riskmaster as virtue and matureness radiated from the seventeen year old. It was like watching a falcon forage for its infants, hoarding the objects of wilderness to protect Thear. No, not protect. That was not it...To unite Thear. That was it.

   And just like the blare of a horn and the firing of a trench gun, a loud feminine voice sent waves of high frequency towards the two that made them look like deers caught in headlights.

   "Heyi, Ridge! Took me sooo long to get to you!"

   Ridge came to a screeching halt and snapped his head at the girl frolicking towards them. He knew who it was, but he had to do a double take to make sure it was not the "hive effect" getting to him like what Quennel told him.

   Mavis beamed at the two and tightened her ponytail, putting on a large grin in order to mask her breathlessness. She chirped out, "Well, where's my 'welcome to Nevah'?"

   "And she's expecting a warm welcome!" Ridge said. He stepped closer and wagged his finger at her, speaking through gritted teeth as the capillary tube of his thermometer got to its peak, "How come you're here, and why're you here? It's 6 a.m!"

   "In Haven, it's 6 a.m." Mavis corrected him smugly. She unrolled a parchment that showed to be a map with only a sketch on the left center that was dappled in red. "I'm here not only to see ya after a very long time, but also to peg out Nevah!"

   "Moron!" Ridge exclaimed. He asked with narrowed eyes, "You shouldn't be here and you certainly shouldn't do that! Now what will the governors say when they see the Nevah map handwritten by some cartographer girl?"

   "Heyi! I can hide it..." Mavis said as she's made a raspberry sound.

   At the same time as Mavis whined, Quennel came in between them and faced Ridge. He said, "Calm down, Mr. Kindler-"

   "Mr Gem Locke!" Ridge said as he grabbed the cuffs of Quennel's sleeves.

   Quennel kept on looking on deadpan and stole a glance of the Riskometer on the ball clicker. He said calmly, "Mr. Kindler, you have to call me Quenn."

   "But we aren't in Haven, are we?" Ridge shook Quennel so hard the man's glasses fell onto the hard ground. Mavis was snickering in the background.

  "Yes, but the hive mind effect-"

   "You keep on saying that! Just what are you? An author or a scientist or a psychologist? Huh? Huh?" Ridge said.

   A beat passed and Quennel smiled slightly, "I'm a book."

   Unamused, Ridge clenched his jaw while letting go. He said as he took out the Riskometer and stuffed his other hand underneath his jacket, "Oh because books come in different ranges, huh? Very funny. Good riddance to my question though."

   "We should be directing some meaningful questions to your chirpy friend here, don't you think?" Quennel said.

   Ridge only answered by shaking the Riskometer counterclockwise, causing a meteorite to fling out of the sphere and towards Quennel. Quennel seamlessly ducked and pulled the other by the feet. Ridge felt all of the oxygen conglomerated in his lungs knock out of his body, grunting as he managed to avoid hitting his head. Mavis, being the nosy spectator she is, cheered, "Get 'im, Ridgie! Get 'im, Riddo!"

   Ridge seethed out and sat up. He glared up at Mavis and wagged his finger, "You're next unless you tell me how you got here."

   Mavis cleared her throat and said, "So you remember how Shaima lost her Sensing Snowglobe, yes? Yes? I'll take that as a yes. And then I decided to help her out using the blimp drone- sorry, but I had to. Sometimes you have to bend some rules to achieve great things.

   "And then I found it- it was near one of those gift-shops where you get mini automatons of fictional characters, right beside other figurines. When I returned it to her, she gave me an enormous hug and asked me how she could repay me. You know how I am, Ridge, so I got curious and asked to take a look at the book on her head. She gave it to me and, boy oh boy, it was one hell of a trip! The book was filled to the brim that I felt scared to spill any of the words. The only words that got spilled out was "Theory 500 and something: Ridge Kindler is going out in Nevah by going through the Diurnal Bridge.""

   Ridge's jaw became unhinged as he stared at Mavis in utter shock. Quennel only glanced at him with buried joy. She continued nevertheless, "So of course, I passed by your room and knocked on the door, but no answer. I then used the drone and let it infiltrate your room- well, not really, but I just made it go through that mini door for pets. You got a pet now?"

   "No, go on!"

   "Okay, so in the camera I noticed a diagram. It had some super complicated stuff I couldn't read, but I did manage to see the drawing where at 5 am you can reach the exit when you're on the moon, and I saw a text that implied how you have to print out a QR code and then unlock a lock that had the password of 195. I surmised it was for the exit to Nevah, so like a professional I made the drone press on some buttons to print out the said QR code."

   "How did it bypass the paper with the alarm activator in the cassette?" Ridge wondered aloud and looked down at his gilded shoulder plate. "Could it be that this broke when I was..?"

   Mavis shook her head, "No. I didn't wanna use any of your plain papers and put a silver glittery paper the cassette instead using the claw out of the deck. The paper's so pretty with the QR code!"

   Quennel let out a conscious sigh while Ridge grumbled, "Of course you did..."

   "So then I got to the moon using the drone- luckily it could carry me because of its blimp-like structure and mechanisms- and bam! I used the QR code, unlocked the lock, and the rest is history!"

   Mavis grinned only for it to dissipate so quickly as she gaped at the burning creature. She murmured with a sense of uncertainty, "What the..."

   "And how did you even get here safely?" Ridge asked as he disregarded her evident curiosity and and faint apprehension.

   Quennel leaned into Ridge's ear and whispered with an inscrutable look, "Mr. Kindler, you paved the path free of risks when you were getting rid of everything in our way. You should've factored in every contingency, especially if it was a Nevanese person instead of your friend here."

   Ridge let out a sound of begrudging acknowledgement and spoke to Mavis, "Nevermind that. You just used your zoomed out mind to get here. What matters is that you stick with us without jerking ahead of us or behind us. Clear?"

   "Clear!" Mavis repeated cheerfully rolling the map again. She skipped alongside the other two, and throughout the more tense gait and brief exchanges between Ridge and Mavis, Quennel was staring at Ridge expectantly. Expecting that Ridge knew his plan. Expecting that Ridge knew why he left his glasses behind.

   As though he is wielding computed tomography, the train of thought crossed Ridge's mind faster than he could hold the gaze, and only derailed after they started walking away. It was, "He doesn't want Mavis to know about our plan to let the other Nevanese know about the Riskmaster. It will certainly besmirch the purpose of the Riskmaster being only known to the Nevanese. Only the people who need a hero in their lives and land should be privy to the Riskmaster. Mavis will know about the Riskometer sooner or later- sooner than the latter, but that does not mean she should be aware of my purpose here."

   After 800 footsteps away from the debacle of a scene, someone else trudged in. With every trudge, their boots would penetrate through the ground. Their bristly arms were embellished in spiky bracelets around their leather gloves. And between the spiked choker to the brown beanie, a face that could ransack a million souls just by the glimpse of a blurry visioned eye. His soft yet messy blonde hair was haunting and his blazing red eyes were preying on anything that came in his field of view. He had a bandage on his cheek and his whole attire was reminiscent of a hoodlum. His symmetrically double cut cape swayed with every pounding trudge.

   In the man's hand was a thick thread of licorice that bent down due to the balminess of the air. The man growled as he glanced at it; the lingering company was palpable like the lingering of the bitter aftertaste of licorice on one's tongue. He stiffened once he looked at the burning Dendrozard in front of him. He sprinted towards it and, with a clinical and angry gaze, studied it. He noticed a piece of paper on its braided tongue and did a double take. Without a second thought, he grabbed it and read the message sprawled in cursive. It read "If you are able to read this non-Schutbi note, then I congratulate you. You are worthy of knowing this; a man who goes by the Riskmaster from Haven is plaguing your world with destruction. He is using a snow-globe shaped weapon to get rid of anything that poses as a risk in Nevah as of now. If you believe it, spread the word in Schutbi or English or whatever. If you don't, then come here after three hours and see for yourself that the scalding grassy creature will ought to be gone. It's not an invitation, it's an order. -Q.G.L"