October 11, 4021 14:01 [Lahab Mutajamid Desert]

“H-he’ll be fine, right? Y-you’ll fix him up, right?” Aisha asked. Her lips trembled, a distinct quiver in her voice as she laid eyes upon Akula.

“His injuries are severe. I’ll need time to patch him up,” Ghost stated. She furrowed her brows, concentrating intently on Akula’s wounds. She muttered to herself, guiding a hand over his body.

“Can you save it? His—” Mirai motioned to Akula’s missing arm.

“That window’s closed, I’m afraid,” stated Ghost, shaking her head, her other hand held steadily above the amputated area. It had been wrapped generously in elastic bandages, though the tinge of red seeping through continued to darken.

Mirai grimaced, staring at Akula’s sickly appearance. A thin film of sweat had formed over his face, and he had started to shiver slightly. A tube attached to an infusion bag had been inserted intravenously into his arm, slowly replenishing his blood supply. Wires extended out from underneath his shirt, leading to a heart monitor. Its readings were faint but steady. A mask had been placed over his mouth and nose, a slight hiss emanating from the openings as oxygen was delivered.

“How long until he’s on his feet?” Hart questioned. He leaned against the far wall of the sick bay, arms crossed, tapping his fingers impatiently.

“At least a few days. Frankly, he shouldn’t be fighting at all anymore. He did his part; he should be focusing on resting and recovering,” Ghost answered curtly.

“You don’t get to make those judgment calls, and we can’t afford to keep soldiers away from the war theater. We need all the help we can get,” Hart ground his teeth frustratedly.

“He’s right, unfortunately,” Temujin interjected. “We’ve suffered heavy casualties and the supposed miracle drug hasn’t arrived from Manzhouli yet. All soldiers must be ready for battle, regardless of their injuries, at least until we’ve secured more support.”

“Not to mention, there’s been no sign of Rahman’s generals so far,” Hart pointed out.

“Hasruddin and Drona; we haven’t received any information regarding their whereabouts,” Dot confirmed, scrolling through the digital feed from his Nerve Cord.

“You would think the generals would be doing the fighting in the stead of their kings,” Kafka pondered, stroking his chin. “But not so much as a peep from these people. Baldwin’s and Orpheus’ forces were strangely arranged as well; their generals were missing too. They’re planning something.”

“The s-size of the fleets w-were just as r-reported, though,” Anari stated.

“That’s what I don’t understand,” Hart huffed, his patience wearing thin. He ran his fingers absent-mindedly through the dark red balayage of his bangs. “What are we missing?”

Mirai thought for a moment. He grimaced; the obvious answer to Hart’s question was an unpleasant one.

“What was your source?” He asked.

Hart raised a brow. “Our scouts; they were able to send us information up until their…” Hart’s eyes widened.

Temujin’s face darkened. “We’ve been fooled.”

Hart clenched his jaw, his balled fists shaking in fury. “They fed us false information.”

“They’re probably not dead either,” Gauss added. He snickered, much to Hart’s chagrin. “What a joke!”

“Defectors among our ranks. Though, what incentive would the Scouting Unit have to betray us? Why join a losing cause?” Temujin mused.

Hart shook his head. “If they had grievances, they should have taken it up with one of us…Well, it’s a little too late for that now.”

Temujin nodded, following Hart as he turned heel and exited the sick bay. Mirai looked to Gauss inquisitively. He was met with a shrug of the shoulders and a frown. “Nothing good, Gilly.”

***

The wind had picked up, making the dark expanse of the desert even cooler. A mixture of sweat, dirt, and sand covered Mirai’s face as he zipped up the last of the body bags. He wiped the grime from his forehead, staring blankly at the rows of black mounds spanning the area. A shiver ran up his spine, though it wasn’t the cold that bothered him. He could have easily ended up like them; buried in a foreign land, forgotten and unknown.

He had been tasked with collecting the dead. The able-bodied scoured the dunes, gathering what was left behind in the carnage. Some were whole, most were fragmented. Rarely was there a body intact. On occasion, only a limb remained. And sometimes, there was nothing to find.

Death didn’t scare Mirai, yet the scale of it and the gruesome nature of their battle left a pit in his stomach. He couldn’t accept such a waste of life. Nothing had been accomplished. And the enemy’s goals kept slipping further out of their understanding.

Mirai jumped as a heavy hand landed on his shoulder unexpectedly.

“Don’t think so hard about it. You’ll hurt your head,” Skadi joked, smiling reassuringly. Slump nodded behind her. They had been helping to clean up the aftermath ever since the fighting had stopped.

“You two should rest,” Mirai said, noting the dark circles under Skadi’s eyes.

“I could say the same for you,” Skadi responded.

“I can keep going. Besides, you haven’t gone to see Akula yet.”

“That’s right…How is he?”

Mirai shook his head. “Not good. He’ll live but…”

Slump mimed an explosion, pointing to his arm.

“Yeah, it’s gone,” Mirai confirmed.

Skadi pursed her lips, her face flush with concern. “I want to see him, but if I stop working…I just can’t get those images out of my head.”

“That makes two of us,” Mirai grimaced. “I want to forget today and probably the days that’ll follow.”

“How about this? We can go see how the base building is going. Maybe we can lend a hand and help out a bit. It'll give us something to do—clear our minds. After that, we can go see Akula together,” Skadi proposed.

“I like the sound of that,” Mirai smiled. “Slump?”

Slump gave him a thumbs up, motioning for them to follow him. They slid down the dunes to a large encampment, bustling with activity. Soldiers carried supplies for tents, rations, and various machinery. Belts holding several tools clinked and jingled as they walked.

The construction effort was making a great deal of headway, giving the area a city-like feel. Already, many structures of stone had been fashioned to weather the cold and torrent of sand that was sure to pick up in the night. Tarp from the tents had been fashioned into makeshift windbreakers to stagger the incoming sandstorms, giving much-needed respite from the howling winds of the desert.

The trio gathered a few slabs of stone, lifting it with a grunt onto a nearby sled. They followed a small group to the edge of the encampment where they were assembling a large building. It was wider than it was tall, with metal grates in place of windows.

“A prison,” Skadi remarked.

Mirai shrugged, dropping off his haul. It was to be expected; they couldn’t just allow the soldiers who had surrendered or been captured to roam free. That would be foolish. They were not to be underestimated. Besides, it would take time to evaluate the strength of their allegiance. Whether they were willing to comply with Yuèliàng was left to them to decide, but in the meantime, a prison would serve as a way to keep order while giving the Yuèliàngian party a way to provide shelter and food for their prisoners as humanely as possible.

“Where are the prisoners, then?” Slump pointed out.

“Still in the Crawlers probably,” Mirai answered, dusting his palms. “Can’t exactly hold prisoners if the prison isn’t built yet.”

Slump found the answer agreeable, turning back the way they came to gather more material. The others followed suit making their way back through the encampment. Mirai’s eyes wandered around, observing his surroundings. There was an air of excited energy, despite the heavy losses. It seemed spirits had decidedly lifted due to the enemy’s retreat. There were glimpses of hope on the horizon. This war could be won. More accurately, it had a foreseeable end.

Mirai pitied the hopeful. Even if this war ended, their fight would not. They would suffer endless battles against infinitely rising forces to keep Yuèliàng dominant. Only death would release them from this turmoil. Such was their fate. My fate. Mirai mused.

A shriek wrenched him from his trance, muffled sobs following the sudden outburst. He looked around, only to find scarce an unmanned face. Doubtless, they had heard it too, the cry for help. Yet they carried on with their work without a second glance. Perhaps Mirai had imagined it? No, by the confused swivel of Slump’s head and Skadi’s darting eyes, they had picked up on the screams as well.

“Is no one going to find out what that was?” Mirai asked in disbelief.

“No, they’re ignoring it,” Skadi frowned.

“They already know,” Slump stated, staring into the crowd. He bolted forward, causing Mirai and Skadi to jump in surprise at his rashness. They pursued him as he weaved through a series of alleyways trying to locate the source. Again, another shriek echoed through the air, ignored by most. Mirai caught glimpses of worry on the occasional face, but none moved to act. What is going on? He thought.

Their frantic search ended as swiftly as it began, causing them to screech to a halt in front of an unlikely building.

“Wha—this is—” Mirai couldn’t find the right words to say. They were standing in front of the Hyenas’ quarters.

Skadi shook her head, stubbornly. “This has to be a mistake. We don’t even know what’s going on in there. We can’t just assume they’re guilty without inquiring what it is that we think they’re guilty of.”

“I hope you’re right,” Slump stated dryly, proceeding towards the quarters.

The air was warm inside, but Mirai couldn’t help but shiver. His thoughts raced as a creeping feeling of unease gripped him. The screams grew louder; sobbing pleas were undercut by howls of agony as they traveled further up the stairs to the second floor. The guards at the entrance had stepped aside to let them through. They stopped in front of two slabs of stone, pulled wide open as if their presence was expected—welcomed, even.

Quietly, the trio stepped through the doors, a ghastly sight awaiting their arrival. Mirai’s stomach dropped.

“S-sorry,” Anari apologized as she gouged a man’s eyes out. His screams of anguish echoed throughout the chamber, causing Mirai’s blood to run cold. “T-tell us where y-your g-generals are and I won’t h-hurt you anym-more,” she stuttered.

Within the room were a series of contraptions, each one seemingly more tortuous than the last. A group of naked prisoners sat shivering in the corner, huddled en masse. Their hands and feet had been bound with shackles, their mouths and eyes wrapped in cloth.

The floor was littered with corpses; faces had been slashed to unrecognizable pieces, bodies impaled with sharp objects, or limbs removed forcibly and violently. A woman fell beside the blinded man, her throat slit. She sputtered and coughed choking on her own blood as she stared at the horrified faces of Mirai, Slump, and Skadi with pleading eyes. She reached out to them, extending a twitching arm.

Mirai stepped forward almost instinctively, recoiling just as suddenly when a pike was driven through the woman’s head. Mirai stared bug-eyed at the woman’s limp body, turning away to vomit as pulsing brain matter spilled out of her cracked skull.

He slowly turned to identify the executioner, aware that Slump and Skadi had pressed in closer to him so that they were now shoulder-to-shoulder. Despite the stances they adopted, their bodies trembled; fear gripped their hearts.

“Oh, it’s you guys. Finished zipping up bodies?” Kafka noted as he stepped out of the shadows. He callously kicked the woman’s head out of the way. “Lousy bitch,” he muttered, drawing nearer. He paused in front of them, raising an eyebrow. “You guys just gonna stand there, or are you going to help us?” he asked.

Mirai stared at him blankly. For a moment he forgot his fear. The question was almost comical, as if he were being asked to help out at the office.

“These aren’t soldiers,” Skadi’s voice shook.

“Civilians,” Slump muttered, the lenses of his mask pointed so intently at Kafka’s head, Mirai was sure it would burst into flames.

Kafka sighed, tilting his head. “Yeah, it’s a shame—”

“A shame?! You can’t do this!” Mirai exclaimed, utterly bewildered at Kafka’s nonchalance.

Kafka narrowed his eyes, leaning in close. The hairs on Mirai’s neck stood up; a fresh wave of fear washed over him. “Hart may have sold you on his vision of a better Yuèliàng, but did you ever consider the price of that ambition? Someone has to do the dirty work. This” —he motioned at the corpses piled around them— “is just the beginning. The sacrifices needed to be made will only grow in number.”

Anari nodded, turning her attention away from her victim. “The c-captured s-soldiers won’t speak. They’re t-trained to withs-stand torture. The c-civilians…”

“How could they possibly know where the generals are?!” Mirai protested.

Kafka and Anari glanced at each other for a moment before shrugging. Mirai was beyond sick.

“These people don’t deserve—” Skadi started.

“Ah-Ah, that’s your first mistake,” Kafka interrupted, waggling a finger in her face. “The word ‘people’ doesn’t apply to our enemies. The ‘people’ who surrendered will be kept in prison until we can process them and naturalize them as Yuèliàngian citizens. The ‘things’ that refused are here, at our mercy.”

“Mercy,” Slump repeated, dumbfounded at such an inappropriate use of the word.

Mirai ground his teeth. “When Hart hears about this—”

“Who do you think gave us the order?” Kafka remarked, coldly. “They’re lucky he’s out searching for the generals with Temujin. At least we kill them. He would’ve kept them alive for days.”

Mirai could only stare at the Hyenas, questioning the depths of their depravity and the extent to which he had played a hand in the slaughter of innocents.

“Well,” Kafka scratched his head, “it doesn't look like you’ll be of much help to us. If that’s the case, then stay out of our way.” He snapped his fingers and a purple field of distortion enveloped the trio. “Oh, and one more thing,” Kafka said as his voice started to fade, “if any of you tell Dot about this, I’ll make sure you get it worse than these guys.”

***

Mirai awoke in a cold sweat, face down on a freezing floor. The lights were blinding and the air cold and sterile. He lifted his head, peeling his cheek away from the floor. The distinct smell of antiseptic clued him in to his location as his vision adjusted into focus. He looked around to see Skadi and Slump at the foot of a bed being helped by two women, confusion and worry in their expressions. Ghost, Aisha, and...Akula lay in the bed, looking slightly better than before. Ghost’s treatment seemed to have accelerated his recovery. Mirai tried mustering the strength to stand up, but his balance faltered.

He still could not fathom what had just transpired. He had found the methods of the Hyenas questionable, but never to this extent. He blamed his naivete for his judge in character. I need to find Dot. He deserved to know the truth. Regardless of Kafka’s warning, Mirai would ensure the message would get to him. Maybe I can use Aiko to communicate with him? He was unsure of the AI's loyalty, however. She could just as well relay the information back to Hart or Kafka. It would be wiser to tell him in person.

More worrisome to Mirai, however, was the realization that crossed his mind. Cecil is one of them. Was he also capable of such savagery? What atrocities had he committed? What was he willing to do for Yuèliàng?

Mirai grimaced. He had been surprised to learn of Cecil’s rise in status. He had been happy for him, though his drive for self-preservation and the protection of Aisha gave him little time to reflect upon the implications until now. Would Cecil turn out like them? Or worse, was he promoted because he was like them? Ruthless, vicious, depraved—

A hand suddenly grabbed Mirai’s collar and roughly lifted him to his feet. He blinked in surprise.

“Kafka sent you away, huh, Gilly? Looks like he didn’t like what you had to say to him,” Gaus grinned.

“How did you—”

“I’ve been with them long enough to know who they really are.”

Mirai was unmoored by his comment. His preconceived notions had been completely flipped on their heads.

“Mirai, what happened?” Aisha asked him, awash with concern.

He glanced at Gauss, again surprised at the knowing nod the Hyena gave him. “Tell them,” Gauss urged.

Mirai gulped. His mouth was dry; his palms clammy and moist. He relayed the details of their discovery with Skadi and Slump adding their own details or corrections to the story as he proceeded. By the time he had concluded, Ghost and Aisha had paled near Akula’s complexion.

Gauss merely nodded, stroking his chin as if this were a normal occurrence. “I can help you,” he said.

“Sorry, but we don’t need your help,” Skadi scoffed. “I want no part in this war. This isn’t what I signed up for.”

“You signed up to protect this country’s interests. Unfortunately, what Kafka and Anari are doing can still be justified under that pretense,” Gauss chuckled.

Skadi seethed. “You—How could you—”

“But” —Gauss held up a finger to silence her— “that doesn’t mean I agree with what’s happening here either. I can give you an out—a way to escape this war, but you’ll need to trust me.”

All eyes and ears were suddenly fixed on Gauss. Mirai couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Why would we ever trust you?”

“You trusted me enough to tell your little story,” Gauss grinned.

“That wasn't new information. You already knew something like this would happen!” Mirai burst. “That doesn't mean I trust you.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Gauss sighed, rummaging through his pockets. He procured a small disc, the size of his pinky, and placed it on the ground. A projection emerged from the disc, causing Aisha to gasp.

It was Jìguāng.