Chapter 50: Ironhold
The wind whipped against the settlement’s steel walls, driving sand into the reinforced barriers with a relentless force, like waves crashing against jagged rocks.
At the entrance, a group of guards stood in silhouette, their outlines sharp against the flickering glow of the floodlights.
The man at the front was tall, draped in a heavy sand-colored coat, metal plates glinting at his shoulders. His helmet, a dull gray with a retractable visor, concealed most of his face, but his posture was rigid, commanding. He gripped a long, steel pole—its jagged tip humming faintly, ripples of energy dancing around it.
His boots sank slightly into the sand as he shifted his weight, his gaze scanning the approaching figures.
"Guz, what are you doing here? It’s not time for your shift yet."
The words cut through the air, sharp as a blade.
The other guards flanked the entrance, their hands twitching near their weapons—rifles strapped tightly to their backs, energy blades magnetized to their belts. Every movement seemed calculated.
Beside Ash, Guz let out a slow breath, his fingers tightening around the sack.
"Yeah, I know, but—"
The guard didn’t wait for him to finish.
"You know how important your job is. And who’s the kid?"
His visor angled toward Ash, studying him like a potential threat.