...if Hektor was asking for Lucius to be isolated, erased from contact, forgotten within four walls... then it would be done. If the Archcommander wanted to silence the lone survivor, it meant the Empire could not risk a single wrong word spreading.
A lie could be suffocated.
But the truth... the truth needed to be buried alive.
Cassian inhaled slowly, but now with a firm look.
"...Understood, sir." His answer came out lower than he expected, but Hektor did not seem to notice.
Or perhaps he simply did not care.
Either way, the order had been given.
From that moment on, Lucius would no longer see the sun.
***
Underground, somewhere in the desert.
Darkness was dominant, filled with a stifling heat that seemed to draw moisture straight from the pores of the skin.
The only sounds were the almost imperceptible scrape of earth sliding through invisible cracks in the sand ceiling and heavy breathing.
'Damn...'
Valerius felt the fine grain of sand against his face. The sour smell of something mixed with a musky odor invaded his nostrils.
It was a strange smell that made the tip of his nose twitch.
He tried lifting his torso to get up, only to realize his arms had been pulled back with relentless force.
Feeling around with his fingers, Valerius sensed the texture of a hardened, rough fiber binding his wrists and ankles in a tense arc behind him. He tried circulating his mana, seeking the burst of energy needed to break the fibers.
However, as the heat of his core flowed, the bindings glowed with a faint, pulsing light. A sudden wave of weakness washed over his body.
He was tied!
The fibers acted like drains, drinking his inner strength before it could manifest. His joints protested, but the restraint was unyielding.
"What the hell..." Valerius muttered, the memories of the massacre returning in flashes.
His two hundred soldiers reduced to screams under the monsters that rose from the dunes.
The figure in crimson armor.
That stitched flesh face approaching.
That thing in the sky.
After that—
A blow, a crushing pressure, and his consciousness vanished.
He had been completely defeated.
Valerius forced his body to roll on the sandy ground, feeling the scrape of earth against his face. When he managed to brace himself against a sandstone pillar supporting the low sand ceiling, he gained a better view of where he was.
He was underground.
It was a network of tunnels dug beneath the desert soil. Around him, in recesses along the walls, were familiar figures.
Other soldiers.
Fiber cocoons trapped the men of his personal guard; some stared at the ceiling with empty eyes, while others tried silently contorting against the gags.
Valerius blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness.
As his vision cleared, he realized...
The wall recesses were full.
Soldiers who had marched under his command for years were trapped like freshly caught prey in thick fiber cocoons that wrapped them from chest to ankles.
The substance had a moist sheen, as if it had been woven moments before, still fresh.
Some were motionless, only their eyes trembling beneath heavy eyelids. Others writhed in slow spasms, trying to force their arms or legs to break the organic prison.
None succeeded.
A burly soldier had his face turned to the side, saliva dripping from the gag covering his mouth.
He struggled to breathe, his chest heaving in frantic, uneven rhythm.
Beside him, a young soldier trembled slightly, his gaze fixed on nothing, as if trapped in an unending nightmare.
Further to the right, two soldiers seemed to have tried breaking the bindings at the same time. Their hands shook, fingers locked in painfully twisted positions.
A fourth man, trapped closer to the ground, had half his body wrapped and the other half free. He scratched the floor with broken nails, leaving trails of fresh blood on the compacted sand.
His eyes met Valerius's for only an instant—desperate and pleading.
Valerius swallowed hard.
The fiber binding his soldiers pulsed lightly, reacting to their movement as if it were... alive.
In the support beams and upper tunnels, yellow eyes gleamed. Scaled shapes moved cautiously, their claws producing a faint scraping on the hardened soil.
Cindralisks!
Valerius recognized the Cindralisks immediately.
They had been captured by them?
At that moment, the sound of rhythmic clicking echoed through the main tunnel.
From the shadows, a larger Cindralisk, its scales marked by scars, walked into the center of the chamber. It stopped a few steps from Valerius on the ground, tilting its head to evaluate the human.
'Now!'
Valerius tried forcing his mana reserves, seeking to break the fibers through sheer physical power to launch an attack, but it was useless.
The bindings seemed to feed on his mana.
He was empty.
But Valerius did not back down.
He was a General of the Solis Empire!
A fierce smile appeared on his face, even while bound. The creature before him was just a monster that needed to be purified! An inferior lifeform that would stand no chance if he were not in this condition!
"Where is the monster in red armor?!" Valerius roared, his voice echoing through the tunnels. The authority of a general was still present in his hoarse voice, showing no fear even while vulnerable before monsters.
Due to the dry climate, his lips cracked, a taste of blood invading his palate.
Skrrrhh!
The Cindralisk released a low hiss that made the other lizards on the walls stir.
The lizard stepped aside, revealing a pile of spoils at the back of the chamber. The Solis banners lay on the ground, serving as the base for what seemed to be a collection site.
"Awaiting orders from the Sovereign." The Cindralisk responded, its voice surprisingly clear.
'Sovereign?'
That name again!
He and his men were buried beneath the desert, in a nest of monsters being stored for some stronger desert creature?
***
Meanwhile, thousands of kilometers away, a figure sat comfortably in a carriage, drinking date wine and crossing the gates of Luminaris.
Obviously it was mark...