Araan and Dirakh continued and didn't stop until they reached a turn in the hallway, where the wall and shaded buildings took a final turn to meet their other end. There was only one hall there, illuminated with dark blue light. It was pristine and quiet except for gentle shuffling and thumping footsteps.

  It was the Med Bay.

  The medical bay was where Araan would find most of his unit. With Six, Toman, injured, they would stay by his side for a while. Most of them had known each other from the time they had been cadets.

  The floor of the medical bay was twenty steps lower than the rest of the quarters. It was a lot less hot than the soldier quarters or anywhere else in the camp, as cyperans healed faster in lower temperatures. Cold and pure hurson gas was all they needed. As a tradeoff for the controlled air currents and temperatures, the bay had an odd smell. Not a particularly bad smell but it was one associated with wounded soldiers, so nobody liked it.

  Injured soldiers lay unconscious in cool hollow crystal chambers that were attached to the wall by numerous gas tubes. Medical personnel inspected them and recorded important information in gauntlets that featured blackstone andtechnology.

  This was the typical treatment for minor injuries. Toman would be somewhere more intricate and private.

  “Commander Vinid?” a gentle voice called him. Pinah walked out of a room hidden from view at the entrance.

  Commander Pinah was tall and blue-skinned with a build as slender and a midsection as narrow as a cyperan could ever get. Her askora was full on her head and packed in a single bunch into a special headgear that covered all of her head except her face. She wore a dull red Life Armour that extended into a red coat like Liora's and underneath that she wore trousers made of the same extensive material. Araan couldn't remember the name of the material immediately, as it was a new invention with an odd name.

  Alayra Pinah was not a Commander in the same way Araan was. She was never on the field, but she led the only unit of medical personnel in the camp. It was not an easy task, many as they were, but she got the job done. Her gauntleted right hand was active with inscriptions hovering directly above it. It flickered out as she approached them.

  “How is he?” Araan asked. Commander Pinah was always the one in charge of treating injuries like the one Toman had suffered in Tomorann, however rare they might happen.

  “In a hurry, I take it?” she asked. Araan nodded, and she gestured towards a door further inward, continuing as they walked toward it. “The creature's bite was sharp enough to make the injury a cut and not a tear. That's a good thing. He's lost a lot of blood and he will have to stay connected to the artificial supply till his body makes enough of his own. Aside from all that, he's fine.”

  “He's awake?” Dirakh asked, surprised. They had reached the door then.

  “He is,” She said and opened the door.

  The room was filled with the noise of conversation. Araan walked in, while Dirakh and Pinnah stayed behind outside.

  The room was a large rectangle inside, well-lit. There were eight of them inside; the room wasn't large enough to contain all of the team. They were dressed like he was, in Trouser Armour with varying styles of Life Armour on their chest and arms. Toman sitting in a reclined chair, wore the same material as Pinah as trousers, his chest was bare with gas tubes connected to his shoulder where his right arm had been.

  And he looked tired.

  Except Toman and Gikai, one of the scouts, the soldiers in the room were all from the Fourth Sector, having the same indigenous brown spotted yellow skin as Dirakh. Toman and Gikai, however, were from the Twelfth and Eleventh Sectors, respectively, and had somewhat green skin.

  When they noticed him, the seven visitors stood up in salute. Toman struggled to get up but stopped at Araan's command.

  “A new look for the transfer, Commander?” Gikai said warmly, looking at the colors of Araan's armour.

  There were too many undertones in that question, so Araan just smiled. “Dirakh said you all would mention it.”

  They all had a laugh about it, then there was silence in the room. They all looked at him, waiting for what he'd say to ease his exit.

  He couldn't think of any.

  A farewell wasn't what he'd come for, Araan reminded himself. His entire theory was based on the look a mindless creature gave him when he shot at it. He needed to be sure the others saw it too.

  “Pinah said you'd be okay in a few seikans,” Araan said, looking at Toman. “She said your mind is fine already; Is it fine enough to answer a few questions?”

  Toman sat up straight, turning around to exchange looks with the rest of the unit, “Yes, sir.”

  “Gormah is under attack. New creatures just like in Kilkad and Tomorann. Some of you may have seen Senk's and Firaj's units suiting up,” Araan said. Gikai and a few others nodded. “They've been assigned there.”

  “I don't believe those three cities are going to be the last of it; I think all outskirt cities are in the range of attack. Something happened in the last Dark Half, I can feel it. I just need to be sure that... What?” he asked, interrupting himself. The members of his old unit were staring at each other.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “I saw something right before the creature attacked me,” Toman said. “It was a hand print burned into the scales in its underbelly.”

  “A hand print?” Araan's voice echoed Dirakh's usual reaction. This didn't fit with his delacite theory.

  “It wasn't a branding, sir; it went deep into its flesh. It's not just that, there's more.”

  It was Gikai's turn to speak. “Korle and I noticed the positions the Scavengers' corpses lay in. I could have sworn that it seemed like they were running with the creature and not from it. Most were killed by stampeding, not by biting or tail lashes. Korle also thinks the craters on the dome were the creatures trying to get in.”

  “Sir, I don't think Bukin's team tore out the creature's arms, something else did,” Toman said.

  “A creature or weapon more powerful than a Strength Class Augmentor and has hands hotter than plasma from battle-rifles...” Araan said as it dawned on him.

  The Fourth Sector was in serious trouble.

  ■

  Araan and Dirakh left two micro-seikans early. Nothing was left to do after speaking with Toman and the others. General Vidgard wasn't bothered by the change in schedule. In fact, he was happy to send them off. Dirakh had tried to change his mind again during that time.

  In short, that dismissal was several times less respectful.

  It left Dirakh upset for half the ride from the camp to Kolvak. Every now and then he took his Sand Drifter and traveled leagues on his own in the Augmentor. Even now he was outside—out of Araan's view from the windscreen but still on the vehicle's radar—though Araan doubted it was still the matter of being upset, but because of his likeness for the activity.

  Araan's Attack Class Augmentor was kept in the Heralder's armoury alongside charge-rifles and other materiel. Inside, a Heralder functioned like a single, compact shaded building from the camp but with only three compartments; the armoury, the troop bay and the Commanders cockpit. Outside, it featured numerous layers of plamsa-proof panels that formed a thick indestructible armour; the windscreen was similar in integrity. The tires were massive with spiked threading to enable it to move on even the hardest dirt surfaces.

  Inside the wide cockpit, Araan reached out to the panel of controls in front of him. He inspected some parameters and levels. There was a long, jointed, metallic extension reaching down from the roof of the Heralder to connect to the back of the jacket section of his Mantle Armour where he was seated. With the push of a button, he connected the extension fully and the humming engine of the vehicle roared to life.

  “Get back in, Dirakh,” Araan said into the vehicle's communicator. “The Heralder's charged up and ready to go at full speed again.”

  “Copy that,” Dirakh said. He soon came into view.

  Araan stared at Dirakh's blue Augmentor for a while. For many, they were easy to use, but Araan never liked the thing.

  Sand Drifters were shaped differently, depending on the weaponer who built it. Araan's Sand Drifter had been triangular, but Dirakh's was shaped like a slanted square. Both shapes featured the same hollow center that served as the cockpit. It was called a Sand Drifter, but it actually hovered waist-high above the ground. The hovering was made possible by accurately fixed thrusters in the outer rims of the one-cyperan airship. For control, the gauntlets of the Mantle Armour would be lodged and fixed into two provided ports connecting the Augmentor to the pilot.

  Dirakh slowed until he was behind the Heralder. From the cockpit, Araan heard Dirakh's ship enter and settle in the emptied troop bay. The Heralder barely shifted to the added weight.

  Araan shut the doors remotely and began driving.

  Dirakh came into the cockpit shortly after and took a seat behind him. His helmet was hanging behind his head. “How close are we?”

  “Two hundred and fifty leagues out; one more high-speed travel and the city should be in sight.”

  They had traveled for nearly two whole seikans, or five hundred and twenty micro-seikans and two thousand leagues if they followed the Heralder's time-distance measurement standard. If the travel between the camp and the cities meant moving from the camp through every consecutive sector from the Fourth down to the Thirteenth, it would have taken more time than they had to spare before leaving for Ordanq. They were shorter routes, cracks in between uninhabited lands, known to the Trigad that they followed.

  Araan pushed the throttle forward until the view at the edges of the windscreen became blurry.

  They were in the Thirteenth Sector now.

  Kolvak was leagues ahead, but the distinct features of the sector was apparent. The sunlight was still dull and diffuse here but it was bright enough to see. There was the constant howling of deceptively gentle winds that could instantly become storms, and in the distance, were hills of black delacite of sharp, sloping declivity. Despite the beauty of the view, it was a reminder of how dangerous it was to live here. The Thirteenth Sector had the highest number of delacite fields in the world.

  “You know,” Dirakh said, taking in the view, “When you said it was everywhere you looked, I thought it was just you boasting. This... this is ridiculous. A great view, sure, but still ridiculous. Why would anyone build here?”

  Araan responded with only a chuckle.

  In a way, however cruel it sounded, he was relieved that the migration back in the Fourth Sector wasn't due to drastic delacite growth. Or at least, there was reasonable evidence to not believe so for now. The palm print, the tracks and everything else. It was more likely a creature or weapon's experiment.

  If it had been every sector that was under potential delacite threat, the most affected would easily be the Thirteenth. Now, it seemed like the Fourth Sector was the one with the problem, and he was fine with that. Not just because he was a native of the Thirteenth Sector, but because of his eldfather's murder.

  That in itself was enough trouble for ten cycles.

  His eldfather's death took over his mind again. He had done his best to ignore it throughout the journey but as home drew near, it was harder to ignore. Could he still call it home? It had been fifteen cycles since he last stepped foot in Kolvak. He was never supposed to leave, given who he was. Had the people forgotten that? Had they forgiven it?

  He suddenly became conscious of the seal kept in his leg compartment.

  A pinging noise drew him out of his musings. It was a notification that they were close to Kovak. Dirakh sat up straighter in response. It was an awkward pose in his armour.

  “That was fast,” Dirakh commented.

  “We're still fifty leagues out,” Araan replied, slowing down the Augmentor.

  “I told you to recalibrate that, everyone sets it at ten or fifteen leagues. Why does yours have to be fifty?”

  “Yes, make it ten and announce yourself to any beast with good hearing,” Araan answered dryly, “How in the world did you become Commander again?”

  “We are traveling to a city! You...” Dirakh trailed off and Araan turned around to look at him. Dirakh was staring at the windscreen, looking far into the distance.

  Araan faced the windscreen and he saw it for himself. It was mostly even land from here to the city and most of Kolvak's dome was now in view. At the very center of it was a jagged crack extending to one end. Surrounding the dome were giant heaps of burning bodies. It had to be tall for it to be seen from this distance.

  More shocking was the field they drove into, it was blackened; not from delacite but fired plasma rounds. Araan was stunned, not sure what to say. Kolvak was torn apart.

  A war happened here.