Fourth World

Jinzidal Army

Headquarters

The three Commandments (The Descent, The Contract and The Jinzidal) were manned by separate Armies with separate jurisdictions. The border patrol upheld The Descent, the Jinzidal army upheld the Jinzidal and finally the contractors which upheld The Contract.

The Jinzidal army was led by admiral Uznu Urúrú. Right now, ten thousand soldiers of the army stood in silence as they waited for their admiral. The soldiers were dressed in the all-black attire of the Army with a close-fitting white hat.

Uznu had recently returned from the First World after a short course in dimension studies. The army had wanted to give him a welcome parade when he returned but Uznu shunned the event, which forced them to postpone it. The admiral was now back from the Jinzidal and, according to their rules, there must be a Jinzidal parade after every competition.

Uznu didn't disappoint them like last time: he came, stayed there for a second or two, nodded and disappeared.

"Admiral!" The twenty commanders complained in unison.

Uznu appeared in his office. Though it wouldn't be right to call the place just an office. It was as large as Armad's village, with separate labs, libraries and restricted areas all crowded in one place. Uznu liked to bring things from the First World which no one was allowed to touch; hence the many restricted areas.

Uznu didn't spare the place - or the staffs greeting him - a glance as he hurriedly entered a restricted lab and closed the door behind him. The staffs shared a knowing look before they went back to what they were doing.

Once inside, the admiral removed a grade six ayrid from his pocket. He rubbed it on his palm, spat his saliva on it and then carefully put it on the table. The ayrid shone dimly and then transformed into an ethereal doorway. Uznu put his hands inside and pulled Armad out. The doorway and the ayrid disappeared, leaving Armad's unconscious body on the inspection table.

Uznu spread his hands and chanted for several minutes. Two Djinns appeared in the room.

"Greetings, master." They prostrated themselves before Uznu and waited for his command. Maybe it was a gesture among Djinns or just an attitude, but both Djinns held their vertex firmly. One had about fifty smallish horns stuck in its head which made the gesture even more gross.

Uznu nodded. "This is the second time we brought Saif Iqra into this room in the last three hundred years. Our last failure shall serve as a catalyst for our success this time. Here's the last record." Uznu explained, handing them a piece of paper.

He looked at the horned Djinn and said, "Kalkutu, you know what you must do."

Then he turned to the other. "Netti, you know your job as well."

The two Djinns nodded obediently as they focused all their attention on the boy lying on the table.

"Saif Iqra has two souls joined by a single consciousness. It's different from our souls but also the same. All my researches have proven to me that as long as there's an Urúrú nearby Saif Iqra will not show itself. That's why I won't be here when you do the extraction. In a research we did on the First World, we found out that five of the seven people Saif Iqra has bonded with were Wilberforces." Uznu pointed at the boy on the table. "Even this boy is a Wilberforce. The most important finding of our research is the book always shows up to help its bearer. In other words, we have to make this boy suffer. Use all the poisons, blades, drugs and serums at our disposal to torture him to the best of your abilities. Give him the torture that no one else has ever received. Torture him until the book shows itself. I'll take care of the rest once it's out.

"In my recent visit to the First World, I have discussed our intentions with the First Prince. Trust me, we have his full support. So, failure is not an option."

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Uznu left. But he returned a second later, pulled a slave marker from the nearest drawer, heated it up with his Djinn magic and then shove it on Armad's forehead. The same place where his miyura used to be.

"Now, he's branded. Carry on." He left again.

The slave marker was a branding iron with the character for 'peace' on it - three interlocked fingers with a dot at the centre. The brand was usually given somewhere where it would be apparent, but rarely on the face or neck.

The two Djinns, Kalkutu and Netti, turned to Armad with wicked smiles.

"This can all end now. Just spit it out." Netti said.

Kalkutu nodded his agreement. "If you don't, we'll extract it." He pointed to a collection of torture tools by the side of the bed.

Armad was completely unconscious which made the whole scenario weird. Apparently, the two Djinns seemed to have noticed it as they looked at each other and nodded. Netti blew air in Armad's mouth while Kalkutu pierced his chest with five needles.

*Cough.*

Armad woke up with a cough. His vision was surprisingly clear and he immediately saw the two Djinns. Besides the horns, Kalkutu had five fingers on his forehead like an extra hand, while Netti had the perculier double pupils of Lucifers. What is this place?

You have lost access to your Djinn. Longevity ransfer terminated at 0.2%.

0.2 years received from your Djinn before it passed away.

You will maintain your classification but you have lost all access to Djinn magic and the ability to absorb nature energy.

NB: spells like meditation which are solely dependant on nature energy would be redundant.

Armad woke up to a series of depressing messages. He was yet again in another worst situation. Without his Djinn, his Meditation would be useless. That would mean he would be stuck at his current level forever. Armad clenched his fist and shook his head. He could not fail. Triple-factor or the admirals, whatever the obstacle was, he could not fail.

Netti used a hook and pulled his left ear.

Armad screamed pitifully.

"Shushushu..." Netti laughed. "That serves you right. It's for ignoring us and reading your status while we talk to you."

Kalkutu nodded vigorously, as if justifying their actions. He stabbed Armad's little toe with a needle and licked the blood. "It's tasty." He said. Then he lowered his voice down to a friendly whisper. "But there's no need for this, little Wilberforce. Just give us the book and we'll let you go. You've my word."

Armad gritted his teeth. He wanted to speak but his cracked mouth wouldn't allow for more than a few words.

"I'M... ARMAD OF THE HOUSE WILBERFORCE."

When the two Djinns heard him, their faces twisted in anger.

"Let's get the torture started then." Netti straightened his limbs.

"We'll break you." Kalkutu shouted madly. He put the hook around Armad's private parts and pulled.

*Scream.*

Armad shivered and he lost it. They put the same needles in his chest and woke him up to continue the torture.

"Will you spit it out or not?!"

"I... am... Armad... of the House Wilberforce... "

***

Meanwhile, a comatose woman had suddenly appeared in the sixth zone of the Equatora. Her clothes were shredded to pieces, her bones broken and her skin cut in more places that could be counted. She was on the verge of death, and she would die without a divine intervention. The surrounding area was a hunting ground for Dordors living in the Equatora. Wherever you looked, you would see Dordors; some alone, some in groups. No any settlement in sight and the only sound came from the birds in the sky and the high pitched voices of the Dordors.

As if the situation of his woman wasn't bad enough, the nearby Dordors took notice of her. The bigger ones with at least five heads arrived first. They smelled the woman and licked her blood for a while before they snorted and walked away.

"Weak prey."

"A very weak prey."

It was difficult to determined who spoke the first word. But they all agreed the woman was not a meal worth their saliva. Any Dordor with five heads up was classified as a greater dordor, apex predators who didn't eat any prey with a longevity below five hundred years. Lucky for her. Well, almost.

After the greater Dordors had left, a lesser Dordor with two heads arrived. He looked tired and famished. His right head saw the woman and he started smiling and singing with his left head. The right head was trained to scout while the left one was for entertainment.

Foodses has come.

Now, now, foodses has come.

Foodses to a foodie.

Foodie to a foodses.

Foodses has come.

Foodses has come.

The nameless Dordor with white hair, white skin and white brows sang. His kindred were widely known for their singing talent. They sang for a coin, they sang for a beautiful woman and, more importantly, they sang for a warm meal.

He reached out with his white claws and turned the woman around to see her face. She was... Aish Barren'dudu, who was hit by Uznu after trying to save Armad.

The Dordor gulped. He removed a small knife from his pocket, put it on the ground, lifted his hands up and prayed. "We thank the Lord who gives us a weak human meat after starving us for two weeks. We hope he will give us another meat shortly after this one. Thank you, Lord of Meats."

The Dordor picked his knife and readied himself for the meal.