Author's Preface
Having successfully infiltrated Tepesh, we made our way through Grausheim, Truair, and Yana —Districts 10-12—over the course of four days. With every district crossed, escape became substantially harder. This was most apparent in none other than Yana, the cut-off point for Skadhi’s withdrawal order.
It was a small enclosure. A relief station numbering no more than a hundred guards.
And yet, despite the Skadhi Administration’s efforts at containing the situation, citizens swarmed like locusts. They were fiendish. Inhuman. Mercilessly stomping over one another at the mere possibility of escape. Their bloodshot eyes darted across the checkpoint, filled with a desperation found only in the weak and pitiful.
Malice for survival's sake. Violence for protection’s sake. Skadhi’s people had been reduced to rabid dogs with nothing but their primal urges to guide them.
“Skadhi,” I said with contempt. “Was this the world he saw? The world he despised above all else?”
Weak as they are individually, strength can be achieved through collaboration! That is the meaning of society! All is one, and one is all!
Skadhi’s words reemerged from the depths of my consciousness, gnawing on the roots of my brain. As much as I wanted to deny his words, I could conjure no sensible rebuttal. People were weak as individuals, and strength could be achieved through collaboration. But what of this collaboration? What of this collective?
It was easy to espouse righteousness when values remained untested. A general may puff their chest, proclaiming themselves loyal and just, yet the cold, sharp steel of an enemy blade would drag their falsehood to the surface. Citizens may exchange greetings and confectionery during peacetime, yet abandon the facade of cordiality when war threatens their ordinary lives.
The bonds that constitute strength are but fragile iron chains, destined to crumble under the weight of their own decay.
Murder, theft, bigotry, rape—no crime was too foul, no act too depraved.
This was the world of Twilight, the self-righteous world Skadhi longed to tear down and build anew.
And yet…I could not bring myself to heed that man’s words. Was it truly necessary to erase all distinctions? To reduce all to one?
Killing one’s hatred was the same as killing one’s love. They were but two sides of the same coin. Should one take up the sword in the name of peace, he brands himself the greatest of fools. A hypocrite of the highest magnitude.
That duality was the Achilles heel of Skadhi’s world. As long as the people of this world crave love and happiness, death and despair can never be defeated.
Could these people truly be saved? Was salvation even the answer?
I, in all my boundless inexperience, could not give an honest answer.
“Ereth.”
“...” Keresaspa’s words pulled me out of my stupor.
“Don’t get distracted.”
“Yeah…let’s keep going.”
Our journey henceforth was made with relative ease. The concentration of citizens decreased starkly, allowing for greater freedom of movement. Two days later, we reached our destination, scarcely five miles from the Gaulf Strait.
I scanned the battlefield with my mechanical eyesight, observing the most minute of details. The shura had set up operations within the strait. Our military operatives were nowhere to be seen. 13 days had passed since our previous mission, a trifling amount under any ordinary context. This, however, was war. This, however, was war. Front lines shifted by the hour. Entire battalions vanished before sunset. I wouldn’t have been surprised if our allies had long been driven out of the territory.
And yet, my gaze fell upon a battlefield far beyond my limited comprehension.
“Is this…?” My voice trembled, words failing to grasp the magnitude of the horror before me. Descriptors lacked magnitude. Nouns lacked precision. Verbs lacked weight.
Were they shadows? Dark engravings in the earth? What did I just see? The impressions scorched into the earth varied in size and shape, yet each preserved the unmistakable outline of a human body. My brain, despite praying for an alternate explanation, could not deny the ultimate truth.
These things, these markings—they were Wisterian soldiers, evaporated in an instant by a terrifying power.
It was as though a portion of the earth itself had been painted over, leaving behind nothing but the silhouettes of lives extinguished.
Could magic of this scale truly exist?
“Atreides…” Derrick’s voice was low and meek, his expression stricken with concern. “Should we use Link talismans to find any survivors? We’re definitely in range, and I’ve got a few stored up.”
“Halt.”
We stopped in our tracks at Keresaspa’s command.
“Not possible.” Keresaspa shook her head in disapproval. “The enemy has likely established communication jammers nearby. It would do nothing but expose our position.”
“What else can we do?” Derrick asked.
“[Flow]. It’s our only hope.”
Under ordinary circumstances, the sensory enhancement granted by [Flow] extended only a few dozen feet at best, but Keresaspa was hardly an ordinary soldier. With her unique physical constitution, I had no doubt she could survey an entire district alone.
“...”
She closed her eyes, tempering the Mang within her. It surged like raging winds, flowed like crashing waves. Invisible currents radiated from her body, blanketing the entirety of District 17 in their embrace.
“...There!”
Keresaspa’s head snapped thirty degrees to the left, her hawk-like eyes locking onto a distant point.
“A battlefield.”
“Status?” Derrick asked.
“Not good! Haha! The enemy has us thoroughly outmatched in both numbers and technology. At this rate, the raid will fail.”
“Damn it...”
In response to Derrick’s anxious expression, Keresaspa merely let out a hearty laugh, her very presence easing the tension in the air.
“Come now, young Derrick! Have you forgotten who we are? We are the Problem Children, the army’s ultimate weapon! A heart lacking fervor is a heart better stilled!”
“...”
Something about the situation felt wrong—not the conditions of war, but Keresaspa herself.
Throughout our journey across Urr, I had noticed a subtle decline in the warrior woman’s presence. No...perhaps presence was not the proper word. Was it her soul? Her essence? The distinction mattered little. Though I lacked the language to properly describe it, I could sense an undeniable change within her.
Keresaspa’s heart was fragile.
During moments of rest and quiet, it flickered like a dying flame. Yet at the mere prospect of battle, fresh fuel was cast upon the embers, igniting her fading will anew.
It was no wonder I had mistaken her for a phantom.
I rubbed my hair and let out an exasperated sigh. “So, I suppose the answer is obvious from here.”
“Yes, we must join the battlefield and engage in the carnage!”
“And how exactly do you intend to accomplish that in a timely manner?”
“Oh, that? It’s simple, really.”
“—!”
With her large, powerful arms, she lifted Derrick and me by the hips as though we weighed nothing. Honestly, her strength never ceased to amaze me, even after witnessing feats far greater than this.
She leaped through the air with Derrick, to her right, screaming in terror. I forgot he had a fear of heights. I, on the other hand, didn’t need a personal ride to District 17. My physical composition gave me more than enough speed and power to make it there at roughly the same time. I merely found the trip convenient…and surprisingly comfortable.
I looked beyond the horizon, my gaze captured by the billowing pillars of smoke. Denial was a vice unfit for me. I could not proclaim to be as righteous a man as Derrick, My heart longed for battle just as fervently as Keresaspa’s. Perhaps our similar dispositions granted us a natural affinity, though the truth remained indiscernible.
For now, I needed only my blade and resolve as my guide.