The first rays of sunlight pierced the desert horizon, tinting the sand a burning gold. A light breeze picked up, making clothes billow and everyone's hair whip. The atmosphere was heavy, tense, as if the desert itself were holding its breath.
Aika scanned the horizon, her eyes narrowed.
"They shouldn't be long now."
"We have to be ready." Yamero crossed his arms, an impatient smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"So what's the plan, then?"
"We take the convoy by force, seize it, and head straight for the floating island?" Daru shook his head slowly.
"No."
"If we do that, we're headed for disaster."
"They'll immediately realize their convoy has been compromised. And without their systems, we'll never find the island's exact location." Aika spoke, her tone calm but resolute. "We'll pretend to be defeated."
"Knocked out, unconscious… covered in sand."
"The hostage will say he's neutralized us."
She paused, then continued:
"They'll load us onto their transport."
"And when they land on the floating island…"
"That's when the assault will begin." A silence fell.
Then Yamero slowly advanced toward the hostage. His aura changed abruptly. His gaze became scarlet, oppressive, almost inhuman. He grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and lifted him with one arm, lifting him off the ground.
"You're going to follow the plan to the letter," he growled.
"Do I make myself clear?" The hostage was suffocating. Fear overwhelmed him. Beads of sweat trickled down his face, his eyes trembled, his mouth opened but no sound came out.
Daru intervened immediately, his voice sharp.
"Yamero, let him go."
Yamero turned his head slightly, annoyed.
"..."
"You're scaring him so much he's about to lose consciousness," Daru continued.
"You're going to make us lose a valuable card."
"Hold it together, damn it."
A moment passed. Then Yamero released his grip. The hostage collapsed to his knees in the sand, panting, trembling all over.
Yamero looked away disdainfully.
"Tch..."
"Weak."
Aika glanced briefly at the hostage, then at Yamero.
"Calm down." "We need him to remain conscious… at least until we reach the island." The wind blew again, stronger this time. In the distance, almost imperceptible, a mechanical rumble began to be heard.
The convoy was approaching.
Maki slowly turned her gaze toward the horizon, her pupils flickering faintly.
"I can feel them…"
"They're coming." Daru didn't waste a second. He scooped up large handfuls of hot sand and rubbed it violently all over his body, his face, his hair.
"In that case, we don't have much time," he said in a low voice.
"Cover yourselves in sand. And beat yourselves."
"It has to look like real torture." Without a word, everyone complied. The blows were sharp, precise, painful. Bruises appeared, blood flowed, mingling with the sand. Their breathing became irregular, their bodies marked. Then, one by one, they lay down on the ground, motionless, giving the perfect illusion of broken prisoners. The silence of the desert was soon shattered. Five giant planes appeared in the sky, their massive silhouettes obscuring the rising sun. Around them, gigantic flying robots escorted the convoy, heavily armed: rocket launchers mounted on their shoulders, long energy rifles pressed against their metallic torsos. Their presence weighed heavily on the air, making the atmosphere suffocating.
The convoy landed with a dull rumble, kicking up clouds of sand.
The ramps opened.
An old man descended slowly. His uniform from the extremist organization was immaculate, adorned with dark insignia. His yellow eyes gleamed with an unhealthy light, contrasting with his black hair and long beard that rippled in the desert wind. His gaze was cold, calculating, devoid of all humanity.
He approached the bodies lying on the ground.
He crouched beside Aika, examined her wounds, and brushed his hands against the sand clinging to her face. Then Daru. Yamero. Maki. His gaze betrayed no emotion, only methodical analysis.
"Hm…" he murmured.
He slowly rose, straightened his hunched back, and turned his head toward the hostage who stood a little further away, still trembling.
He advanced toward him with measured steps.
"So…" he said in a deep, hoarse voice,
"So it was them?" The hostage swallowed hard, feeling the weight of all the mechanical stares fixed upon him.
"Y-yes, sir…"
"They resisted, but… I did what I could." The old man narrowed his eyes, an almost satisfied grimace spreading across his face.
"Very well."
The old man raised his hand slightly, without the slightest hesitation.
"Get them on board." Soldiers immediately disembarked from the planes. Their footsteps echoed heavily on the sand as they approached the lifeless bodies. Without any gentleness, they seized Daru, Aika, Yamero, and Maki, lifting them like mere sacks of flesh, before carrying them inside one of the aircraft.
The ramps slammed shut with a metallic clang.
Inside, the atmosphere changed instantly. Cold, dark, oppressive. The prisoners were separated, dragged through narrow corridors with steel walls, then thrown into separate cells… but side by side.
The doors slammed shut.
Each cell was identical.
A cramped space.
A metal bed bolted to the floor.
A small toilet built into the wall.
And a narrow, barred window letting in a dim artificial light. A few minutes later, the guards returned. Their faces were grim, their movements mechanical. They slipped a meager ration through a hatch: half a loaf of dry bread, hard as a rock, and a small flask of water.
Nothing more.
The footsteps faded into the distance, the locks closed.
Silence fell once more.
Behind the walls, the others' breathing could barely be heard, proof that they were still there, still alive.
In his cell, Daru slowly opened his eyes, just enough to observe his surroundings without drawing attention. A faint smile flickered across his bruised face.
Everything was unfolding exactly as planned.
On the other side of the wall, Yamero gritted his teeth, holding back his impatience.
Maki remained motionless, focused, feeling every vibration of the metal around her.
Aika, sitting on her bed, stared at the small window, already calculating every possibility. They were trapped.
But it was just an illusion.
The trap had just sprung…
And this time, it wasn't for them.
During the flight, Daru slightly opened his eyes. Through the small, barred window of his cell, he observed the outside world.
What he saw chilled him for a moment.
Below stretched an immense city, more than four kilometers wide. Gutted skyscrapers, cracked roads, deserted squares… but not a single soul in sight. No light, no movement.
A ghost town.
"So even this… they sacrificed it," Daru thought.
Then, without warning, the aircraft vibrated violently. The air seemed to twist around the fuselage. The lights flickered for a fraction of a second.
And suddenly…
As if reality itself had been torn apart, the plane passed through an invisible wall.
The pressure changed.
The sky warped.
The world tilted.
They had just entered a confined space, isolated from the rest of the world.
And then, finally, it appeared.
The floating island.
Colossal.
Immense.
Terrifying.
A continental mass suspended in the air, rising to a stratospheric height, almost touching the atmosphere. Metal structures and cyclopean fortifications were embedded in the rock, as if the island itself had been transformed into a living weapon.
Around it, the sky was saturated with movement.
Enormous winged creatures with monstrous silhouettes flew slowly overhead, like ancient guardians. High-tech aircraft patrolled relentlessly, tracing perfect lines across the sky. Farther away, giant robots, armed to the teeth, floated or walked on suspended platforms, monitoring every blind spot.
No apparent flaws.
No visible weaknesses.
"A true fortress..." Daru murmured inwardly.
The plane began its descent.
The convoy landed on a gigantic platform, made of a dark alloy crisscrossed with luminous lines. No sooner had the engines shut down than thousands of figures were already there.
Soldiers in perfectly ordered ranks.
Combat robots of all sizes.
Individuals dressed in dark uniforms, with an unsettling aura, watched the convoy without a word.
All these people had gathered to welcome their arrival.
To them, Daru, Aika, Yamero, and Maki were nothing more than trophies.
Broken prisoners.
Shackled victims.
But behind the metal walls, behind the lifeless eyes and the motionless bodies…
Four spirits were already in motion.
They had reached the heart of the nest.
The enemy's lair.
The heavy metal doors swung open with a sinister creak.
Soldiers dragged them roughly from their cells. The cold metal of the chains coiled around their wrists, binding Daru, Aika, Yamero, and Maki together, arm in arm, like animals destined for slaughter. With every step, the soldiers struck them—butts, boots to the ribs—not out of necessity, but for sheer pleasure.
Blood flowed, mingling with the black dust on the ground.
They were dragged inside the floating island itself, onto a gigantic platform open to the void. The wind howled at that height, carrying with it a crushing, almost oppressive feeling, as if the island itself were watching its prisoners.
Then, suddenly…
On a raised balcony, overlooking the platform like a suspended throne, a female figure appeared.
Griselda.
Her hair rippled gently in the breeze, her violet eyes gleaming with a demonic light. A sinister smile slowly stretched across her lips, thick with cruelty and excitement.
"Welcome to hell, you damned rebels," she said in a honeyed voice.
"Ultimately, your determination to thwart our plans has inevitably led you straight to the lion's den." She placed a hand against her chest and burst into almost hysterical laughter.
"The irony of fate… mmm, it excites me so much." Her laughter echoed throughout the space, cold, distorted, inhuman.
Then, with a sharp gesture, her expression changed.
"Lock them up."
"We'll decide their fate later." A heavy silence fell.
Then, amidst the clanking of chains, a deep, sharp voice cut through the air. "Not today." Yamero slowly raised his head.
In an instant, a brutal crack resounded.
The chains exploded.
Yamero's, then Aika's, Daru's, and Maki's, shattered simultaneously, pulverized like glass under an invisible pressure. A colossal shockwave was immediately unleashed, sweeping across the entire platform.
Soldiers, robots, weapons…
Everything was torn away, crushed, obliterated.
When the wind finally subsided, nothing remained.
Nothing… except them.
Yamero advanced with a slow, deliberate step. He raised his hand and pointed his fingers straight toward the balcony where Griselda stood, still frozen, her smile now contorted in a stiff, surprised gesture.
"This," he declared icily,
"is the beginning of your end, Griselda."