Chapter 145: First Wave
The words caught in Mordred’s throat.
- "Not now," he whispered hoarsely, deliberately avoiding Ygdrasyle’s penetrating gaze.
He could not bear this silent inquisition, the judgment he read in his comrade-in-arms’ eyes. The weight of past decisions, of betrayals to come, all intertwined in an inextricable knot deep in his chest. In this moment suspended between two worlds, he no longer had the strength to explain the inexplicable, nor to justify the unjustifiable.
But the time for explanations was torn away from him. A searing vibration suddenly coursed through their slave collars, a brutal wave that penetrated flesh and bone, traveling up their nerves like liquid fire. The pain made them flinch in unison. Then a voice resonated in their minds – cold, distant, imperious. A voice that expected no response, only absolute obedience:
- "Activate the dimensional capsules immediately. The portals must open now. No waiting. No reflection. The conquest begins."
Mordred’s heart stopped for a fraction of a second, then resumed its course, now beating against his ribs like a panicked animal seeking escape. His eyes fell on the capsules at his feet, objects of seemingly insignificant appearance that nevertheless contained the end of a world. He knew all too well the implacable mechanism that was about to be set in motion, the onslaught he was about to unleash wave after wave, until everything was engulfed.
Ygdrasyle approached the central capsule without showing the slightest hesitation. His hand rested on it with an assurance that made Mordred shiver. Devotion or resignation? Impossible to know what motivated his gesture.
- "Mordred, it is time."
These simple words resonated like a sentence. Mordred stared at his own hand slowly rising toward the activation device, almost against his will. He saw it tremble, suspended above the mechanism that would seal the fate of countless innocents. In this trembling could be read the inner struggle that had been tearing him apart for so long the slave against the man, duty against conscience, survival against honor.
- "I am sorry..." he breathed, words thrown like confetti in a hurricane, inaudible to the world but deafening to his own ears.
Then his finger lowered onto the activation mechanism.