"Report, Steven," Alexander stated.
"Yes, Captain. The passing of time has led us to remain here for more than two years. This has not only allowed the fifty-fifth outpost in the Lands of Chaos to bring great riches to the capital and the great cities, but it has also advanced Experiment 415. We have made only small progress in experimentation, yet we have entered the third stage of progression. It is focused on creating chaos that may lead to a failsafe, should the time arise."
"Good. Now report on Nate these past weeks. Has he yielded any progress with his task and made quick work of it?"
"Yes, sir. Not only have we made progress on the third stage of our leave, but the majority of the outer slums and villages will soon be affected with spice. Their use of our new drugs should proceed as expected. Out of the thirty-five compounds, one has led to what research desired. Doctor Adam has made great progress with these drugs."
Steven looked at Alexander, wanting to continue, but stopped, unsure of how to voice the darker implications these drugs would bring.
"What is it, Lieutenant? Speak!" Alexander demanded, his eyes locking sharply onto Steven's.
"Sir… if you have seen the reports, not only would you be entangled with doubt about why these drugs are being sought, but you must also understand this—Adam has not even begun to experiment on the children. This restraint is kind, but we both know what sort of man he truly is. He works directly for Vilhime, within his department. Adam has created these drugs in less than a year using the villages as his resource point. This is great for us, yes, but what of the main reason? What do we do if these drugs get out? Sir, if I may speak truthfully…"
"Steven, we have worked together for more than thirteen years. I hold great merit toward you. Speak freely." Alexander rose from his seat, turning his body to stare out toward the village.
The two soldiers of the Alden Empire stood in the central town hall of the Village of Nathan, the only two-story building. It gave a commanding view of the village as a whole. Outside, the villagers went about their daily lives, blind to what was truly happening beneath their feet...
"Sir, if these reports of the drugs' results are true, then we must ensure no one, not even a rat, may touch them. These drugs have led to three great results requested by the Council. One: immense strength. Two: sharpened vision, heightened senses. And most of all, everlasting stamina. Once given, these experimental subjects become lawless in their minds they cannot think clearly. They gradually deteriorate into madness over twenty-four hours. What is worse is their transformation. Their veins turn red, bulging out of their skin like a scarred web across their bodies. This inhuman evolution locks the mind into permanent instability, turning a rational existence into a monster in human form. Reports note their inhuman growth of senses makes them more animalistic, believing even the unknown is a threat. They slaughter anything that makes a sound. Two of the scientists were eaten alive. These creatures kill anything… anything that dares to exist around them."
"Enough… Remember, our job is not only to manage the shipment of the Chaos Crystals, but to make sure the experiments are met. Once we have it all done, we can reflect on our disheartened feelings. Now is not the time."
"Is there anything else that has been slow or… peculiar?" Alexander continued.
"No, sir. With this, stage three will be complete by the end of the year. We will need to remain at this outpost at most one more year."
"Yes, Steven. Are you happy to see your family, your children? This will be your third tour. Once this is over, your chance at becoming a Captain is guaranteed."
"And for you, sir, knighthood is guaranteed as well."
"Yes… I will finally join the ranks of true power, though it may only be the beginning of something far weaker than what lies ahead..."
"...Tomorrow is rations day. Go with Nate, scout for any peculiar child, and make sure they meet the requirements. I remember there was one… the boy Elliot. He should fit. It has been too hectic these past days, but if you find him, take him. That will bring us closer to the twenty remaining children Adam needs."
"Yes, sir…"
"Now, about the Runic. How has he been? I heard reports of issues when making deliveries to the lab."
"There was only a fluke. Some children tried to steal crystals. From what our research shows, it must have been nothing more than slum rats trying to make something of themselves. There should be no connection between them and the Runic."
"Even so, I think we should change how we move the crystals. Make it so two men escort each container to the labs instead of one."
"I'll implement that, sir. The transport of the crystals for the experiments will be adjusted."
"Good. Now, about the Runic—we've made a deal with him. He's done his part, building whatever we ask, supplying what we need, keeping our drivers and guns in order. Yet he pisses me off. Something about him… something feels wrong."
"I already prepared a report on him, sir. I expected you would ask."
Alexander gave a sharp nod. "That is why you are my Lieutenant. Report, Steven."
"Boldwin. Unknown home, unknown origin. Only one crime on record. From the reports, he seems shrouded in mystery. His crafting techniques are crude in appearance but precise in execution. His artificing is high-level, his engineering is decent—but most of all, he weaves psychology into his work with his hands. My guess is that he may be operating at the level of a Runic Smith."
"That's what I thought," Alexander muttered. "Even with my experience, I have no clue why he is here."
Steven frowned. "Captain, with my understanding, Runic are claimed and wanted by every region, every religion, and by the great houses and factions alike. Why he hides here, at this outpost, seems to go beyond his past. My understanding is that he could easily vanish into any great city. But instead, he remains here. That means one thing—he has a mission, a reason."
Alexander's face darkened as he turned toward the window again. "Yes. He is working with an unknown party."
"With my understanding of this unknown party, we should eliminate him. I already included it in today's report to Vilhime. My priority is to use everything we have. Even if he plans something to disrupt us, he will face the seven hundred soldiers under our command. Nothing will survive that stands in our way."
"Captain, my suggestion is that we fold him into stage three of our leave. Remember—no witnesses, no unknown variables can remain. Nothing leaves this place that might compromise the Council's orders or our operation."
"You are right. That should work perfectly. Add him to the list. Inform all high-level soldiers of the change. I will begin reporting it to Major Vilhime."
...
The streets in the central region of the village were wide, paved with stone, and crowded with life. Shops bustled with trade, vendors called out their wares, and villagers carried baskets filled with grain and cloth. On the surface, business thrived and many wore smiles. Yet beneath it, uncertainty lingered. Few truly knew what the soldiers would do once their work here was finished.
Feelings toward them were mixed—fear, distress, and resentment. Even when the soldiers showed an ounce of kindness, most villagers met it with hidden anger, muttered curses, or bitter stares. The men in their dark-blue uniforms had, over time, woven a net of control across the village. The original town lords had been stripped of power, replaced by a single figurehead—a mascot at best. Everyone knew the truth: the village now belonged to the soldiers of the Alden Empire.
"Out of the way…" Nile muttered, brushing past a soldier.
"What did you say, boy?"
"Sorry. My friend was being a little too rude here."
The soldier narrowed his eyes at the two youths. They wore common attire, simple cloth fit for villagers, yet there was something off about them. Their clothes were plain, but too clean for the dust-stained streets. One had short hair falling neatly around his ears, the other let his hair fall to his shoulders, tied back in a rough ponytail. They looked like any other children of the Badlands—until one looked into their eyes. Golden, circled with a faint ring, their gaze carried a strange weight that unsettled anyone who stared too long.
"Not you," the soldier growled. "Your friend should be the one apologizing."
"Sorry, my lord," Nile said, bowing with exaggerated annoyance. A sly grin twitched on his lips, though inside he cursed the soldier with every word.
"Now that is what I like to hear. Fellow golden devils," the soldier scoffed before moving down the street.
Elliot sighed. "You're too harsh, Nile. These scum may be cruel, but showing too much defiance will bury us faster than anything."
Nile's eyes burned. "And you're too nice. These bastards deserve nothing but silence and steel. Every last one of them."
"Relax, Nile. We need to keep moving, make sure our progression falters at nothing."
"You're right. Let's go."