Chapter 132
However, the moment the seed rested in his palm, he clenched it tightly, crushing it with enough pressure to force its sap out.
In an instant, the seed transformed, metamorphosing, splitting open into fragments of liquid metal that immediately assembled themselves, constructing their own form into an XM8 rifle with a distinct 32nd-century design, its grip ergonomic, its barrel extending with a precision impossible to achieve with technology from thousands of years prior.
Arya raised the rifle, aiming forward.
Then, without turning, without needing any coordination, he stepped backward until his back met Nirma's.
Their backs pressed together in perfect silence, warm against each other, sharing heartbeats that differed in rhythm yet aligned in vigilance.
They began to move.
Nirma stepped forward with her M4A1 aimed, Arya stepped backward with his XM8 ready to fire—two opposite directions yet one purpose—and between them, there was no gap, no space that allowed their backs to separate.
They were like two sides of the same coin, moving in a dance of war that could only be performed by those who trusted each other more than they trusted themselves.
On the other side, Ashita did not remain idle.
From the slight opening of his coat, he pulled out a strange device, resembling a household vacuum cleaner from the 2000s, complete with a long hose and a widened end shaped like a stingray's mouth.
However, when he handed the device to Tegar, the man in the jarik cloth immediately pressed several buttons on its surface.
In an instant, the vacuum hose transformed into a massive radar screen that emitted detection waves in all directions.
Holographic circles appeared in the air one after another, expanding, enlarging, reaching every corner of Heraclea Cybistra—from the rocky north to the southern edge entering desert lands, from the eastern hills to the west stretching toward the nearest river.
Tegar moved the tip of the device to the right, and the radar screen responded with rapidly shifting lines.
Then to the left, and the detection waves swept the same area again from a different angle.
His eyes, hidden behind glasses from the year 4231 AD, scanned every point appearing on the screen, searching for signals, searching for signs, searching for the presence of the five-headed Abnormal that should have been impossible to hide from this technology.
But before Tegar could complete his second sweep, the universe seemed to decide to intervene.
From all four cardinal directions at once, the wind began to speak.
Not the usual wind that occasionally brushed across the hills of Heraclea, but a storm born from nothingness, growing from dust and air that suddenly spun at insane speeds.
The radar screen in Tegar's hand immediately flashed red.
Holographic sirens wailed without sound, and rows of numbers began to scroll beside the once-clear map.
Tegar read them in half a second, then shouted, his voice nearly swallowed by the roaring wind.
"This storm covers all areas! North, East, West, South—none can be penetrated! Equipment from the year 1101 AD won't be able to break through this wall of wind! All access in and out of Heraclea Cybistra is completely sealed!"
Ashita, hearing the report, immediately turned his head, eyes narrowing as he tried to pierce through the swirling dust forming distant walls.
Meanwhile, Nirma and Arya, still back-to-back, halted their movement, sensing the sudden change in air pressure, feeling how the atmosphere around them became heavy and filled with threat.
Arya, without lowering his aim forward, whispered in a voice only Nirma could hear.
"Increase your vigilance, this is no ordinary storm."
Nirma nodded—a small motion felt by Arya through the vibration of their touching backs—and the two of them prepared for the worst.
But the storm was not the only surprise.
The ground beneath them suddenly trembled.
Not violently, not enough to make someone fall, but enough to make their bodies sway gently like being on a small boat rocked by waves.
One second, two seconds, three seconds—the tremor continued with a strange, steady rhythm, like the heartbeat of a giant pulsing within the belly of the earth.
Nirma and Ashita, two women who had endured far too many battles, too many surprises, too many impossible situations, immediately exchanged glances despite the distance between them.
And on the twelfth second, just as the tremor reached its peak, they moved simultaneously.
Nirma's hand reached into her waist pocket, pulling out a piece of cloth that looked worn and shabby, exactly like a cheap floor mop cloth commonly used in homes of the 2000s.
With a strong swing, she threw the cloth to the ground, right between herself and Arya.
And in an instant, the cloth transformed.
From its dull fibers, a powerful surge of energy burst forth, expanding, spreading, sweeping across the surrounding area in concentric circles impossible to evade.
The wave touched Nirma and Arya's feet, touched Ashita and Tegar's feet several meters away, and with an irresistible force, hurled all four of them straight into the sky.
Amid a height that made the head feel light and the air thin, Nirma did not waste a single second.
Her free left hand reached into the innermost pocket behind her combat vest.
Her trained fingers swiftly found what she was searching for—a bracelet with an incomplete shape, as if it had once been deliberately broken and then rejoined with technology beyond ordinary understanding.
She pinched the bracelet with her left index finger, rotating it slowly—once, twice—until the eleventh count.
On that final rotation, the bracelet emitted a pale blue light that rapidly spread, enveloping both Nirma and Arya in an invisible layer.
Arya, who had remained back-to-back with Nirma, felt it first.
A strange sensation as gravity suddenly lost its grip on his body, as the weight he had always felt every second vanished without a trace, leaving behind an empty space now filled with near-perfect freedom.
He could move his body anywhere he wished, adjust direction with mere intent, float in the air like a fish swimming through an unseen ocean.
Beside him, Nirma had already begun to move.
Her body rotated slowly in the air, adjusting her position, restoring the balance lost when the initial blast threw them skyward.
Her single eye swept the area below, watching as the Bogged Land began to change, as the storm walls that had once only enclosed from the four directions now started to creep inward, slithering like giant serpents hungry for prey.
Meanwhile, Ashita and Tegar, several meters away from Nirma's position, were still moving rapidly through the air due to the residual force of the mop-like cloth from the year 2000 AD they had thrown earlier.
Their bodies surged forward with difficult-to-control momentum, wind roaring in their ears, and for a moment, Ashita felt the same sensation as when she leaped from a hill with a glider—except this time, there were no wings to support her, only her own body thrown without direction.
But Tegar did not let the situation last long.
To be continued…