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Animus Nihili Partis — Pars III

  A salty taste pervaded the island's coastline, driven by the waves crashing against the rocks. A bright, scorching sun radiated intense heat. Three large metal ships were moored nearby.

  Beyond the sand surrounding the island was dry land where Areo, Simel, Risa, and Talloy had docked.

  Another camp, but this time they were in the presence of someone else.

  A tall man with a slender body.

  Unnatural red eyes.

  Coal-black hair.

  Chapped lips and a completely flawless face.

  Around is body a closed jacket of pure darkness.

  “Mr. Etlast Bourne. I am honored to see you again and that you have graced us with your presence.”

  Areo approached the man, shaking his hand with complete humility, as if he were standing before a god.

  “It is always a pleasure to have you with us, your support is always welcome.”

  says the green-haired boy, bowing his head and standing upright.

  Risa follows the boy with the same movement.

  “I assume you already know who this gentleman is, Eda.”

  During this introduction, Simel had limited himself to staying in the background, observing everything with a watchful eye.

  “Etlast Bourne. Revered as the most intelligent man of all time. The one with the highest Sciarra output ever recorded, above any level of calculation.”

  In response to the boy's careful and accurate dictation, the revered man limited himself to a brief chuckle.

  “Please, with all this reverence, you'll end up embarrassing me.”

  Simel found this tone arrogant and it almost annoyed him, but for the moment he limited himself to passive silence.

  “Areo. More importantly, why leave the base camp completely empty? Without any special soldiers to guard it?”

  “Ah, because now you're a special soldier?”

  The man replies, his voice ringing annoyingly in Simel's ears.

  “The location of our headquarters is completely hidden, the only ones who know about it are us.”

  “Then why are we here?”

  Risa steps into the dialogue of continuous responses.

  “We have located a simple Zwasi camp. We did not originally expect you to enter the field so soon. But considering that you have physically sorted out every kind of problem at the camp, we thought that a small matter might help you gain experience.”

  “Unless you're backing out, after all, you're the only one who was DRAGGED here by force.”

  Talloy says, looking down at him like he was at the top of a mountain.

  “Fine by me, let’s just get over this.”

  And so the newly formed group splits up within the natural forest at the heart of the island.

  Simel is paired with Risa and Etlast, while Areo and Talloy go in opposite directions.

  As he walks among the rocks and grass, Simel seems slightly agitated.

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  “Is something wrong, Mr. Eda?”

  “Cut it out with this ‘Mr’ thing.’”

  Mr. Etlast does not seem to appreciate the boy's superior tone.

  “You see. Try to understand your place, someone such as yourself has no right to stand on equal foot with us. I don’t know lots, for what I got you were unmatched for all your life. Mind you to take a guess, all you think you know is useless against the Zwasì. You may have great talent but are completely locked by the inexperience of the battlefield. So please stop, acting like you ARE one of us. This is school for you.”

  The words of the man reach Simel, the veins on his forehead about to explode with rage.

  “I refuse to let a dandy like you tell me what I am. As far as I'm concerned, I have no reason to believe you're better than me!”

  Etlast once again responds with a mischievous little chuckle. Then he looks away from Eda and stares ahead.

  “Seeing is believing. Or am I wrong, everyone else?”

  The young man's eyes widen in surprise as he suddenly turns to his right, where he sees a group of hooded figures, surrounded by a white cloth.

  “Those four figures escaped your perception, did they?”

  Simel was once again in shock. Once again he failed to be

  “I was…constantly checking Sciarra output and strengthening my sense to analyse every detail, how did they-”

  Before Simel can even phantom to finish his sentence, at a perfect coordination, the four figures take from the inside of their cloth an wooden piece.

  A piece of brown wood shaped like a cylinder, slightly taller than a middle finger and twice the width of a thumb.

  The beings clasp the object in their hands, and it begins to emit light.

  Strong.

  Dazzling.

  Radiant.

  Simel has to cover his eyes because of the strong light.

  As soon as the strong light dims enough, the boy lowers his arm.

  Now, in the figures' hands, there was no longer just the piece of wood, but it was surrounded by a long spear of luminous metal wielded by the Zwasì.

  In a lightning-fast movement, one of the figures lunges forward, trying to impale the boy. When it seems to make contact with him, a huge burst of flames is released.

  The boy stands helplessly watching the scene.

  Etlast stands in front of him, as if using his forearm to protect him.

  Where the Zwasì, who had lunged forward was supposed to be,now only stands dust. His spear of light shattered.

  “High Flame. A skill I created myself. It uses this highly flammable fabric which, at the slightest contact, generates flames so powerful that they pulverise anything before it passes through the aforementioned layer. The flame is controlled by the Sciarra, obviously requiring high speed and quality of calculation. The perfect defence and offence.”

  The Zwasì, although concerned about the man's destructive power, their eyes did not seem to have the intention of backing down.

  “Soldier Zwasì. However, the weapon of light they are using is as dangerous as I am. Countless humans have died because they found themselves on the wrong side of that weapon. With a release of ten raised to the power of 44 watts per second, that weapon is capable of annihilating any human body with a single touch, and the fact that the Zwasì can travel hundred thousand kilometres per second does not help. Do you understand what I meant before now?

  Upon hearing what was happening, the young boy's blood ran cold, his body trembling on the ground, unable to do anything.

  Simel was convinced he had reached the peak of Sciarra's human capabilities, yet now he felt like... an insect that had been showing off in front of a T-rex.

  ‘I made a grave miscalculation.’

  That’s the only thing Simel could think about.

  The Zwasì don’t lose more time and launch forward. Their spear held tightly once again aiming at the humans. Etlast grabs Simel by the collar of his jacket and pulls him out the way.

  As two of the enemy soldiers lunged forward aiming for another strike, they found someone stepping in between, in the middle of them Risa was standing there, her hands touching the figure's chest.

  “Burn to nothing.”

  As these words escape from Risa's soft lips, another great amount of fire explodes.

  The enemy soldiers turned into a pile of fire that quickly dissipates leaving nothing of their body.

  “And THAT is ‘Burn to nothing’. Using Sciarra to turn the mass of an object into flames, Risa is by far my best student.”

  The last Zwasì understanding that is all meaningless turns around and runs away.

  “Damn, he walked away. It’s not possible for all of us to keep behind him. We can not run at that speed for long, luckily he most definitely moved to the nearest base. We are just going to track his Sciarra and found him.”

  Simel was still motionless, he couldn't believe the power of the army elite soldiers.

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