A dusty trip
10
0It began on a morning too bright for the kind of chaos that was about to unfold.
A dusty parking lot, a rust-speckled van with charm and questionable shocks, and a crew so mismatched it looked like the start of a bad joke: “A dog, a ninja sorcerer, a bug knight, and a robot walk into a car…”
Max, the terrier with too much energy and too little patience, barked anxiously at the tires. Yi, fresh off mystical battles from Nine Sols, scanned the horizon like it might attack. Ghost and Hornet stood side by side in complete silence—elegant, deadly, unreadable. Yuji Itadori leaned on the door, snacks in hand, wondering how cursed this trip would become.
Baymax performed last-minute health checks. "Your stress levels are elevated," he told everyone. No one disagreed.
Beru, towering and insectoid, folded himself into the backseat with shocking grace. Gourmand wriggled up the side of the van and stuffed himself through the window, already nibbling on something unidentifiable. Ralsei tied a scarf around the gear stick, “For good luck!” he smiled.
Then came the leader. Kyro.
Half-mortal, half-divine, and fully stressed, Kyro sighed as he stared at the chaos before him. His pet dragon—a jittery, sugar-addicted creature no bigger than a cat—was licking melted chocolate off the dashboard. Kyro pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, “Why did I agree to this?”
Because some journeys aren’t chosen. Some are fate.
The engine coughed to life. The tires rolled forward. There was no plan, no map, and no idea what lay ahead—only a van full of powerful, weird, ridiculous beings with nowhere to go but forward.
The trip had begun. And the universe wasn’t ready.
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