Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, countries, or groups is purely coincidental.
At the Academy Chicken Shop
Riju stared at the menu, baffled. "This place is called 'Cikdonat,' but they only sell chicken? What a weird name."
Zavian just shrugged, already tearing into a drumstick. "Don't think about it too much. Just eat."
Meanwhile, in Hisme...
Varkas, the Vice-Leader of the terrorist organization, was behind the wheel, speeding through the streets of Hisme with Wells, a Top 8 enforcer, riding shotgun. Police sirens wailed behind them in a high-speed chase.
"Damn it!" Varkas snarled as a precise shot from a pursuing unit blew out their rear tire. The car swerved violently.
Instead of panicking, Varkas grinned. His eyes locked onto their destination—the royal palace of Hisme, its silhouette looming near the Oiki Beach. He gritted his teeth, slammed the accelerator, and crashed the crippled vehicle straight through the ornate front gates.
(For context, the Hisme Royal Palace is located on Oiki Beach.)
The police cruisers skidded to a halt, retreating as military units began mobilizing and converging on the location. This was now a matter of national defense.
Varkas and Wells leapt from the wreckage. Storming inside, Varkas grabbed a fleeing servant by the collar. A single gunshot echoed in the grand foyer, and the servant went limp. They moved deeper into the palace. A guard charged them; Varkas didn't break stride, his blade a silvery flash that left the guard headless. From a window, he saw the organization's reinforcements arriving on the beach, clashing with Hisme's military. The sound of heavy gunfire began to fill the air.
"Wells, look at that. They're quicker than expected," Varkas remarked.
"Just as ordered. Don't let that piece of trash die before we're done," Wells replied coldly.
Inside the Royal Conference Room
President Hijus I of Hisme was in a meeting with his top officials.
"So, a high concentration of gold has been discovered in southern Elpiis?" Hijus asked, his eyes gleaming.
His deputy, Zodek, nodded eagerly. "Yes. Preliminary estimates suggest 921 tons."
A wide, greedy smile spread across Hijus's face. "You're telling me 921 tons? That's an astronomical amount."
"The problem, sir," Zodek continued cautiously, "is that 98% of the land sits on private property owned by citizens."
Hijus waved a dismissive hand. "Then clear them out and seize the land."
Councilor Xopi immediately stood up. "I object—" His protest was cut short by a bullet from Hijus's own gun. The councilor slumped to the floor.
"No one objects here," Hijus stated, smoke curling from the barrel.
Another advisor, Akiiu, spoke carefully. "Hmm, I think a simpler solution would be to declare the area a disaster zone and evacuate everyone. Unless... you intend to engage in human trafficking, sir?"
"If it generates profit, why not try it?" Hijus retorted. "Our military is royal, after all."
Zodek, trying to curry favor, added, "He's right, wha—" His sentence ended abruptly as a sword burst through the conference room door and impaled his skull. He collapsed, blood pooling around him.
Hijus jumped to his feet. "What is the meaning of this?! I am the president of this nation!"
Standing in the doorway, drenched in the blood of the palace guards, were Varkas and Wells.
"You seem to have a poor grasp of your current situation," Varkas said, his voice a low growl.
"How dare you! Guards, kill them!" Hijus screamed. No one came.
Varkas tossed a cloth sack onto the polished table. It rolled open, revealing the severed head of the head of security. Hijus stumbled back in horror.
In that moment of distraction, Wells's knife flew across the room and buried itself in Hijus's hand. The president cried out in agony. The remaining officials were frozen in terror, watching their leader scream.
"Execution," Varkas declared.
Wells opened fire, mercilessly gunning down the officials. They scrambled, begging for mercy, only to be cut down where they stood.
"That's enough, Varkas," Wells said, nodding toward the window. "Look."
Outside, the red shield emblem of the organization was now visible on the horizon. Dozens of ships—the infamous "Empire Destroyer" fleet—were assaulting the beach, unleashing hell upon the Hisme military defenses.
Wells and Varkas turned to leave. As a final act, Varkas swung his blade, cleanly severing Hijus's legs at the knees, ensuring he could never walk again.
Two minutes later, after a sprint through the chaotic halls, they emerged onto the battlefield, now decisively controlled by their forces. They boarded a waiting transport and departed.
The order was given. The warships turned their cannons toward the palace itself. The barrage was indiscriminate, shells crashing into the royal structure and spilling over into nearby civilian homes. Screams of terror rose from the city. The palace began to crumble.
Buried under falling debris, his body broken, Hijus whimpered his last words. "It seems this is my end... Spare me... let me live... I will become a better person and advance Hi—" A massive pillar collapsed, silencing him forever.
Elsewhere, in Tidtimus...
A man with piercing eyes held a pistol to another man's head in a dimly lit room. "So, what's your reason for calling me here, huh?"
The man in the shadows raised his hands slowly, a calm smile on his face. "Hey, hey... relax. I have a proposition for you...."
To be continued...