At the break of dawn, the team approached the border of the Ribyon region, with soldier Milish taking the lead, burning with fervor. The region was notorious for its active separatist movement.

Geno was already awake, trembling as he clutched his tablet, nervously following the vehicle’s route with darting eyes. Meanwhile, Dukken remained vigilant, prepared for any emergency.

The journey through Ribyon’s barren, desolate land, confined by a few low hills, was eerily quiet. There was no sign of life, no trace of civilization, and if there had been any, they were completely obliterated. The young doctor recalled stories of devastating clashes between the Empire’s forces and the separatist rebels, how ‘earthquakes’ were said to have shaken the land under the sheer weight of weaponry. His imagination painted fiery scenes of this region engulfed in flames, consuming people from all walks of life in their agonizing cries for salvation, cries that went unanswered. He remembered the government’s rhetoric, which deemed the destruction a fitting punishment for those ungrateful traitors (as they were called), leaving them to be wiped out almost entirely.

Dukken was jolted by the sound of a gunshot. A barrage of bullets rained down on their vehicle, causing him to duck automatically, and push Geno’s head down, as the scientist remained frozen. Nervously shouting at the soldier to flee. Yet, the later maintained his composure, his anger igniting, as he tapped two buttons and continued steering with calm precision.

Two small spherical drones launched from the vehicle, each heading toward the source of gunfire behind the hills. Cries erupted from the attackers before the drones returned to the vehicle.

Dukken straightened up, followed seconds later by Geno, and he hurried toward Milish with questions.

“Nothing worth mentioning, while you two trembled like lost children, I pinpointed the enemy’s location and deployed the precise-tracking assassination drones. We got rid of a swarm of flies in a second or two”

“And the vehicle? Shouldn’t we inspect—”

“It’s made of the toughest metal found only in the capital, not even a bomb could scratch us, have you forgotten?”

Dukken fell silent, stunned. Milish continued:“I hate to admit it, but I’m grateful to that old fool, he’s the one who built all this technology, after all”

The doctor glanced toward Geno, who had buried his head in his notes, trembling and weeping. Dukken quietly approached and overheard the old man muttering repeatedly: “Poor souls, I’m sorry, poor souls, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, poor souls…”

Dukken placed a reassuring hand on Geno’s shoulder. The old scientist turned to him with a bewildered expression, and Dukken said:“It’s not your fault, this is how wars are, everything will end soon, once we find the stone”

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“Everything will end…”, Geno murmured, lowering his head slowly. His voice trembled as he added, “They wanted freedom… because the colonial Empire treated them as slaves, lower than animals… They wanted freedom… and I was part of their extermination…”. He then broke down into silent, violent sobs. Dukken was unsure of what to do, until Milish interjected with a warning: “Don’t let his ramblings get into your head, and don’t let him fool you. If we didn’t need him, I’d have killed that filthy traitor myself”

This warning erected a barrier against Dukken’s growing curiosity about the region’s story, yet it also sparked an idea in his mind, a risky one, he resolved to pursue. He sat down, took his device, and typed a message to Geno, handing the device over. Geno read the message, and Dukken feared he would expose him, but the old man’s eyes gleamed with attention and focus. He quickly and meticulously typed his response. The two spent the next few hours communicating in this way, while Milish concentrated all his senses on spotting any rebels or individuals who might spoil their mission.

By afternoon, Dukken had learned everything there was to know about Ribyon, how it was once a small, peaceful, and free nation, whose people were victims of constant competition by other nations over its resources. He learned of the successive waves of enslavement and massacres with every invasion, the relentless struggles and revolts to protect and liberate the land. He even discovered that Geno had sought refuge in Ribyon after fleeing a nation that exploited him (a nation that had since fallen and disappeared). There, Geno had used his knowledge and talents to serve the people instead of creating weapons, for a short time. Yet, he blamed himself for increasing the lusts for invading the country and attacking its people, believing he bore the full weight of their near-total annihilation.

It wasn’t just the information that shocked Dukken, it was its sheer depth, Geno’s ability to recall it in detail despite his age and deteriorated mental state, and his precise recording of it on the tablet. Dukken realized he was conversing with a living archive of the last millennium of history on planet Kofkon, a man whose wisdom and intelligence, honed over centuries, could solve most of the Kofkonians’ dilemmas if only they gave him the chance, even a little. However, Geno’s appearance alone was proof that they had never seen him in the past millennium, and will not do in the next, as a salvation innovator, but merely as a weapon, a tool to tip the balance of power.

“Twelve hundred years, means four Grand Wars out of seven, all of which he lived through and was forced to participate in. He witnessed the horrors of his kind and was part of them. No wonder he’s gone mad”, Dukken told himself, watching Geno, who had returned to staring fearfully out the small window. The sky was a deep crimson, thick with black clouds. It had been like this on this war-ridden planet ever since the Sixth Great War. No country seemed to escape being a battlefield or the site of a massacre, where every destructive weapon imaginable was unleashed.

The journey continued without further incident, and no pursuers were detected. Late into the night, the three entered an area littered with stakes, each bearing the heads of thousands of men, women, and children of all ages. Milish remained silent, seemingly enjoying the scene to some extent. Dukken, horrified, couldn’t continue driving, overwhelmed by his emotions. Geno placed his hands on his head, curled into himself, and began muttering repeatedly in a trembling voice: “Poor souls, poor souls, poor souls, poor souls…”