That poison-like alcohol bottle changed hands once more and was slammed hard against the table. Then came the winces, muffled gags, and the sound of gulps forced down the throat. The game was continuing—at least as far as they understood it. One of the two sentinels was now so drunk he could barely stand, while the other simply couldn't manage to get drunk—because every sip he took returned from his stomach within minutes.
The tabletop was a total disaster. Crookedly lined-up stones, an indistinguishable game board, moves placed side by side that made no sense at all... Spilled alcohol, dried vomit stains, and cigarette butts were mixed in between. It wasn't clear which belonged to the game and which had fallen there by accident.
"There, checkmate for you!" shouted the drunk sentinel, adding the intoxication of victory to his state. He made such a move on the board that several stones toppled over and fell to the ground.
The other squinted and looked at the board. After a long silence, he scratched his forehead.
"Checkmate?.. Damn it…" he said. "I… I thought we were playing Sudoku."
The drunk one burst into laughter. The laughter mixed with hiccups and almost turned into crying.
"Sudoku?!" he said. "Can that even be played by two people?"
"I don't know," the other said, shrugging his shoulders.
He paused for a moment; his face turned green again. He pushed the chair back with a creak and tried to stand up, but gave up halfway and sat back down.
"Let's have one more round," he said desperately. "Maybe then we'll remember which game we're playing."
Just then, another vehicle unexpectedly appeared on the horizon. The dust cloud rose first like a thin mist, then slowly thickened. One of the sentinels staggered to his feet, squinting at the distance.
"Damn it!" he said. "Two guests in one day? This doesn't bode well at all…"
The other forced his head up to look in the same direction, then shrugged.
"Maybe it's a hallucination," he said. "I heard the stones talking a moment ago."
As it approached, the vehicle's silhouette became clear. It was an armored vehicle with its upper part torn open; as if it had been forced apart so something could come out of it. Its metal body was full of scratches and dents. The sound of its engine was erratic; giving the impression it would stop at any moment, but it stubbornly continued forward.
What was truly strange was on top of the vehicle. A figure stood there, clinging to the metal of the armored car. The four-armed Dermovox was swaying on top of the vehicle like someone hanging from a tree branch. His long limbs were hooked to the edges of the metal, swinging back and forth with the wind. That large Dermovox stood out even more than the armored vehicle itself; with his movements, his silhouette, and that alien posture that penetrated one's soul.
A moment of silence fell. Then one of the sentinels swallowed hard.
"This… is definitely not a hallucination," the sentinel said. Then his voice dropped a notch. "Looks like our people have returned…"
The vehicle slowly approached the gate. The growl of the engine mixed with the howl of the wind. The sentinel, likely because he was high, couldn't quite make out who was in front of him. Reflexively, he raised the flashlight in his hand and pointed it toward the inside of the vehicle to see more clearly. Yet the sky was clear; the sun was at its peak at noon. The pale light of the flashlight, let alone illuminating the vehicle, didn't even fall properly onto the metal.
From inside the armored car, a cybernetic man with white, messy hair falling over his face glanced at him. The gaze was brief but cutting enough. He sat with a weary expression next to Hogna, who was at the wheel.
"Who is this stranger, Hogna?" the sentinel asked the Dermovox driving the vehicle. His voice came out not with suspicion, but more with a tired curiosity. He wasn't even sure of the gender of the person in front of him as he formed the sentence; even remembering his name was a miracle in itself.
"The boss will want to see him," Hogna said. His voice was flat, not open to discussion.
"Sure, sure…" the sentinel said. "Then let me lift the barricade so you can pass."
He glanced at the gate. The barricade had already snapped from the irons it held onto and was lying on the ground. When the wind blew, the metal piece swayed slightly, creaking as if performing its duty in vain. The sentinel frowned.
How long had this barricade been on the ground?
He couldn't remember. Maybe it had never been standing.
"Thanks," Hogna said.
The vehicle began to move forward again. The armored car slowly slipped past the barricade crawling on the ground as it passed through the gate. As the sentinel watched after them, an undefinable unease washed over him. Those who came this time didn't much resemble the previous guests. He even had to step aside to avoid being hit by the Dermovox named Epra, who stood clinging to the vehicle.
"God…" the sentinel thought to himself. "…I hope we can finally stop drinking this alcohol."