Episode-869
Chapter : 1737
The Commander stood at the base of the ramp. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered and imposing. He reached up and pressed a release seal on his helmet. With a hiss of pressurized air, he removed it, tucking it under his arm.
He was a man in his late forties. His face was hard, carved from granite and scarred by years of battle. His hair was cut short in a severe military style. But his most striking feature was his left eye.
His right eye was brown and human. His left eye was entirely machine.
It was a glowing red lens that whirred and clicked as it focused. It didn't blink. It cycled through different vision modes—thermal, night vision, telescopic, and mana-detection. It gave him the look of a predator that never slept.
He scanned the horizon, the red eye spinning.
"So this is Riverio," he muttered, spitting on the white ground. "Looks like a wasteland."
"Don't let the geography fool you, Commander," a subordinate said, keeping his helmet on. He was holding a heavy plasma cannon as if it weighed nothing. "According to the scan, there are millions of people on this continent. Cities. Castles. Empires."
"Focus," the Commander snapped. "We aren't here for sightseeing. We aren't here to trade with the locals. We are here for containment."
He tapped a metal vambrace on his left arm. A small projector hummed to life, creating a 3D holographic map in the air above the salt. The map showed the entire continent—the mountains of the North, the deserts of the South, and the forests of the East.
Three red dots pulsed on the map.
"The situation has deteriorated," the Commander stated. His voice was cold, devoid of any emotion. "The local assets we planted have failed. Altamira was supposed to be our puppet state, but our intelligence network there has gone dark. The Queen... Seraphina... she has gone rogue."
He swiped his finger across the hologram, zooming in on the southern part of the map.
"Alpha Team," he ordered. "You take the South. Find out what happened to our spies. Secure any remaining technology. If the new Queen is a problem, neutralize her. We cannot have a unified South interfering with the mission."
Two soldiers nodded. They turned and moved toward the ship’s cargo bay. A moment later, they rode out on two sleek hover-bikes. The bikes didn't have wheels; they floated on magnetic cushions and moved silently.
The Commander swiped the map again, moving to the East, to a city labeled 'Ashworth.'
"Beta Team," he said. "You take the East. There is a target there. Codename: Ben. Intelligence indicates he has consolidated power in the region. He has accessed the local magic system and become a Warlord. He is dangerous."
"Rules of engagement, sir?" one of the Beta soldiers asked.
"Assess his threat level," the Commander said. "Do not engage unless you have a kill shot. He has King-Level magical support. We need to know if our energy shields can withstand that kind of kinetic impact before we start a fight. Watch him. Learn his routine. Find his weakness."
Two more soldiers moved to prep their gear, activating the flight thrusters on their backs.
"Gamma Team," the Commander said, looking at the female soldier and the heavy weapons specialist who remained with him. "You’re with me. We are going North. To the Kingdom of Bethelham."
He zoomed the map in on the northern capital. A bright red dot pulsed there.
"To KM Evan?" the female soldier asked.
"To Lloyd Ferrum," the Commander corrected her. "That is his handle now. He’s playing Lord. He thinks he’s safe because he has built a few walls and hired some swordsmen."
The Commander reached to his hip and pulled a sidearm from his holster. It was a heavy pistol, a magnetic-accelerator designed to punch through tank armor. He checked the charge pack, the weapon emitting a high-pitched whine.
"He doesn't know we're here," the Commander said, a cruel smile touching his lips. "He thinks the war is about magic. He thinks it's about demons and politics and dragons. He has forgotten what real war looks like."
"He was a soldier once, sir," the heavy weapons specialist noted. "KM Evan. On Earth. He was Special Forces."
"He was," the Commander agreed. "But that was a long time ago. He has gone native. He has gotten soft. He has forgotten about satellite surveillance. He has forgotten about drone strikes. He has forgotten about sniper fire from three kilometers away."
He holstered the weapon with a sharp click. "We are going to remind him."
Chapter : 1738
"Sir," the heavy weapons specialist asked, looking at the distant mountains. "What about the locals? The magic users? The 'Spirits' they talk about?"
The Commander laughed. It was a dry, humorless sound.
"Hostile fauna," he said dismissively. "Treat them like dangerous animals. If a wolf attacks you, you shoot it. If a wizard attacks you, you shoot him. Their fireballs and lightning bolts are just plasma discharges. Physics still applies in this world. If it bleeds, we can kill it."
He looked up at the sky. The tear in reality was already sealing itself, vanishing as if it had never been there. The ship was their only way home, and it wouldn't have enough power to open a portal again until the mission was complete.
"We have forty-eight hours to establish a Forward Operating Base," the Commander ordered. "Deploy the micro-drones. I want a complete surveillance net over the continent by sunset. I want to know when Lloyd Ferrum goes to the bathroom. I want to know what he eats. I want to know who he loves."
He turned to the female soldier. "Launch the swarm."
"Yes, sir." She typed a command into her wrist computer.
From the top of the black ship, a hatch opened. A swarm of tiny, black objects shot into the sky. They looked like bugs, no bigger than a fingernail. There were thousands of them. They buzzed upward, disappearing into the clouds. These were micro-drones, equipped with cameras and microphones. They would spread out across the world, becoming the eyes and ears of the squad. Nothing would happen on this continent without the Commander knowing about it.
"Why the focus on his personal life, sir?" the female soldier asked as she monitored the drone feed. "Why not just drop a kinetic rod on his castle and end it?"
"Because KM Evan possesses the Omega Protocol," the Commander said, his cybernetic eye spinning red. "He knows the codes. If we kill him before we extract the information, the mission is a failure. We need to break him first."
He looked at the map, at the location of the Ferrum estate.
"On Earth, KM Evan was a sentimental fool," the Commander said. "He lost his squad because he hesitated. He tried to save everyone. He hasn't changed. Our psychological profile suggests he has formed attachments here. A family. A wife."
The Commander’s smile widened. "That is his weakness. We find his leverage, and we squeeze. We make him watch his new world burn until he gives us what we want."
"Move out!"
The squad sprang into action.
The hover-bikes whined to life, kicking up plumes of white salt as they sped off toward the south. The Beta Team activated their flight suits, thrusters flaring with blue ion fire on their backs, and launched themselves into the air toward the east.
As the Commander prepared to launch, he lingered for a moment. He looked at the vast, empty desert. He felt the mana in the air, a tingling sensation on his skin. He hated it. It felt chaotic. It felt unclean. He couldn't wait to pave over this world with order and steel.
"Enjoy your crowns, Major General," he whispered to the wind, addressing the man who was hundreds of miles away. "Enjoy your magic tricks. Because the future just arrived. And it’s coming for you."
He activated his own thrusters. With a roar of power, he shot into the sky, a streak of unnatural light against the medieval backdrop.
Far away, in the fortress of Ironhold, the celebration was in full swing. The wine was flowing. The Kings and Queens were laughing. The soldiers were toasting to a new era of peace.
But on the balcony, Lloyd Ferrum stood frozen.
He held the recording crystal in his hand. He had heard the static. He had heard the whine of the engines. He felt a sudden, inexplicable shiver go through his body. It wasn't the cold wind of the mountains. It was a phantom pain, an ache in his chest from a life he thought he had left behind.
He looked out the window, toward the south, toward the desert he couldn't see.
He didn't know about the black ship. He didn't know about the Commander with the red eye. He didn't know about the drones that were currently drifting high above the cloud layer, photographing the layout of his fortress.
But his instincts—the instincts of a veteran soldier—were screaming at him.
We are not alone, his mind whispered.
The political war was over. The treaties were signed. The alliances were forged. The swords were sheathed.
But as the seven streaks of light dispersed across the continent, a new war began. It would be a war not of spells and swords, but of circuits and silence. A war of snipers and satellites.
The inter-dimensional war had begun. The Firefly had landed. And it had come to burn the world down.