The sandstorm raged across the desolate plains of the Ravaged Lands, slamming a few hapless insectoids against the rocks and grinding down the Old World's long-established structures with its seemingly never-ending streams of sand. A lone skyscraper fell, finally giving up after centuries of desperate struggle. The mighty superstructure simply snapped in two, taking the lives of a gang hiding at its top. When the building’s spire, propelled by the storm, finally touched the ground, tremors rocked the surrounding area, making a few settlers fall on their knees in their homes and start praying to whatever deities they worshipped.
And on and on the front of destruction went, adding even more misery to a region already filled with countless woes. But as always, humanity persevered. Loud sirens wailed across the Reclamation Army territories, and soldiers in power armor began dragging people from the markets to safety. Communities in the distant villages had gathered in a single house, preparing to weather the storm. Trade caravans hastily took shelter.
In Resistance-controlled areas, the Regulators hastily herded civilians into the safety of the secure bunkers, making no distinction between travelers, citizens, or simply desperate souls who approached in the hope of finding salvation. The quiet and sturdy cities of the Soultakers refused to budge; their civilians remained in their homes as the sandstorm raged helplessly against their walls. Soldiers in power armor patrolled the streets, checking to see if anyone was foolish or slow enough to escape to safety. And the mystical and highly advanced Bento Tribe never batted an eyelid at such a trifle as the sandstorm. Shields sprang up around their cities, and the cyborgs themselves met the wrath of nature with a casual shrug, continuing to work in the mines and factories as if nothing had happened.
Augustus was telling all of this to the gathered trainees as three aircraft broke through the wall of sandstorm and headed deeper toward their destination. These aircraft were not the usual lean birds of Iterna but superheavy, square-shaped beasts with armor thick enough to endure a plasma explosion or surface-to-air mission with the utmost contempt. They received their energy from wireless energy transfer, like all Iternian machines, preserving their own energy reserves for an emergency. The engines spat neither fire nor smoke; clean gravity generators kept these kings of the skies in the air.
Their sensors struggled to pick up the environment, unable to penetrate the massive EMP field created by anomalies within the great sandstorm, forcing the pilots to rely on their eyes. A lone sand reaper rose toward the sky, a creature mostly resembling a centipede and reaching a hundred meters in length and some twenty-one meters in width. Each leg of this gigantic insect was sharp enough to plow through tons of compacted sand and rock, allowing for underground travel, and mighty mandibles snapped in anticipation of an easy challenge.
The creature knew its might. In constant search of substance, its kind migrated across the Ravaged Lands, often raiding entire towns and leaving devastation in their wake. Not because of any inherent malice against people, for humans were gnats and provided little nutrition. But sand reapers feasted upon meat storages and highly sought out a few factories producing sugar. Tonight, the sand reaper had already feasted, but spotting yet unseen prey, it rose, curious about its food value.
Two orange streaks left the lead ship's cannons. Both bolts looked insignificant against the living tower of chitin, the sand reaper barely even regarded their presence. It was an old beast, and in its long life, it had encountered both bullets and missiles alike, learning to discern which projectiles could sting and which could be ignored. And its brain told the sand reaper that the two small, flaming projectiles were nothing to worry about. But as they flew toward their target, these spheres of energy began to suck in the mass.
Pieces of stone in the air. Sand, whole waves of it, were lifted from the surface and became sucked into ever-enlarging energy projectiles. Invented by Artificer, compression orbs operated by initiating a transmutation process mid-flight. First, a delicate web of particle field appeared around the projectile's core. Then the alchemical process was unleashed in full, transforming the core into a temporal singularity. Sucking in matter from all directions, the core rapidly increased its mass, undergoing non-stop transformation as matter was transformed into energy.
The sand reaper recoiled back in something akin to horror when the compression orbs struck its body and the particle field went off, rupturing the singularities and unleashing an omnidirectional blast of the entire accumulated matter. The sandstorm parted, creating a small eye of the storm around a white pillar of destruction. A nearby hill got hit by the propelled wind, setting off an avalanche. The sand reaper became a black shadow against a white light, clutching its legs around the main body in an attempt to endure this apocalyptic fury. Arrogantly, the ships kept on flying straight into the pillar of destruction, their energy shields hissing upon facing and containing the shockwave. The hell lasted only two seconds, and when the energy dissipated, the pilots saw that the creature had won this exchange.
Several tough chitin plates, each fully capable of enduring a cascading artillery fire, ended up being ionized, exposing a vulnerable hide beneath. An uneven gap appeared in the chest area of the naturally formed suit of armor, leaving every other piece of chitin to unleash plumes of smoke. Approximately two thousand tons of its body weight had been eaten away by the exploding singularities. After a momentary calculation, the sand reaper deemed the Iternians were not worth spending more of its energy on, and disappeared beneath the sand in search of easier victims to fill its belly and regain its lost mass. Once deep underground, it unleashed a call to its kin, transmitting the message through the vibrations of the sand.
Despite being bugs, sand reapers and insectoids were vastly different types. Insectoid hives hungrily devoured everything, producing entire living organisms capable of storing nutrients on their way back to the base before tearing them apart to feed their queens. The same fate awaited any injured, damaged, or simply inefficient insectoid.
Sand reapers cared for their offspring, nurturing and teaching it for well over a decade, patiently guarding their youth during each molding. No full-grown sand reaper would choose to leave a larva belonging to another sand reaper in danger. Even upon growing up to full size, a sand reaper would occasionally linger near a wounded member of its species, protecting it from predators for no personal gain, even going so far as to deliberately bring in food to help the injured insect recover.
Flying metal boxes sting painfully. Avoid. The code included a detailed description of the flying metal boxes, illustrations of their appearance, and a primitive explanation of the sting’s boom. Other sand reapers heard the message and sent out all their calls, spreading the message far and wide.
Two of the flying vehicles carried four all-purpose squads, each squad consisting of fourteen soldiers. Outfitted in heavy-duty power armor, armed with a mix of close-range and long-range weapons, and supported by two Problemsolvers per squad, these soldiers were designed to provide security around the training area and add to the power of the Reclaimer forces. And the third aircraft, proudly named Titan-class Mk VI, carried the Academy's trainees in its metal belly.
A field mission! The mere thought of it sent a shiver of pure joy down Ratcatcher's spine. No more being stuck inside the walls of the Academy, or running courses on one of its bases. A true wilderness awaited them—an adventure like no other! Yeah, the instructors’ presence soured it a bit, but she gets to see the world!
Augustus, clad in a strange suit of black living armor, was not even distracted from leading his lesson when the displays on one wall showed the massive Sand Reaper and the ensuing energy spectacle. He gave his wards a bit of time to glance at the spectacle before tapping on the metal floor to call their attention back.
“I see you are in awe,” he stated bluntly.
“That… Boom… And… Pillar of light!” A silver-haired student gasped, gesticulating wildly with his hands.
“Like in the movies!” Elina agreed. She looked around at the confused faces. “Oh, come on! Did no one else watch the Destruction Wave last week? Esmeralda, I saw you at the cinema; back me up!”
“Kind of disheartening,” Carlos gulped. An instructor looked at the teen, and Barjoni lifted his hands. “It’s true, sir! We’ve been told that the abnormals are crucial to Iterna’s military, but this?! We don’t even measure up to this, whatever this is!”
Torosian pitched his nose bridge and grumbled something about the foolishness of youth.
“I guess they can’t just fire these… compression orbs…” Ratcatcher said, rigorously reading about the weapon on her terminal. Such boom! She wondered if an infantryman could use it like a rocket launcher! Yeah, that would’ve shown Eight! Oh. Her excitement died a bit of reading about the weapon’s radius. “Yep, this answers it. The weapon can’t be used in cities. Tsk, it sucks ass.”
“Eliza,” Augustus said, and she was already on her feet, standing at attention. “Three days of cleaning duties for the language. But,” his voice changed, banishing the usual coldness and gaining a hint of warmth, “I understand your confusion. However, the power of technology is inferior to some abnormals.”
“Bullshit!” Vasily fired out. Noticing Augustus’ look, the boy quickly bowed. “My apologies, sir.”
“Three days of cleaning duties, trainee. Your disbelief is perfectly understandable. Let me dispel it with an example.” The instructor touched his wrist, and part of his chitin armor shifted, moving away like liquid. Turning his hand horizontally, Augustus tapped on something, and light emanated from his black gauntlet, coalescing in the air before the trainees.
“A dragon!” Ratcatcher cried out, admiring the massive and so adorably cute-looking beast.
It stood on four legs, each ending up with five clawed fingers. Scales of regal purple covered its entire body, revealing a leathery skin in the spaces between them. A long, barbed tail wrapped around the legs and two wings; its wingspan was longer than the dragon's body. The wings spread proudly, dimming the light as it passed through the membranes. The sclera’s darkness encircled the two purple pools that made up its eyes, with blue and gold pupils floating in them.
Ratcatcher soon spotted a hint of savagery and brutality in the being’s body. Some of the scales bore dark marks from explosions, the membranes of the wings were torn in places, and in some places the flesh was bulging, spreading the scales wider. Parts of the creature's claws and tail were blurred, and as the hologram spread further, the girl saw why her question about petting it had been foolish.
It was standing next to a mountain. No, scratch that. It towered over a mountain, shrouding it in shadow. She can’t pet that! The rocky ground around the dragon's feet was littered with broken vehicles and ruined buildings. The blurring made it impossible to tell exactly what had happened on the ground, but the girl had seen enough news to know what exactly was blurred. This was once a city. Dark and heavy clouds swirled unnaturally above the being, and lightning shot bolts shot from it, forming a dancing crown around the spikes that adorned the square head that sat on a long serpentine neck.
“Flea,” the dragon said in a deep, clean, posh male voice. “Pest, unworthy of being our supper. Bow before our imperial majesty or be liquidated beneath our feet.”
His voice had a strange effect. Mom’s angry shout when she was fooling back in the Scrapyard. Dad’s calm order to stay in the corner and think about her behavior. Augustus’ and Torosian’s commands. Every emotion became mixed in with these, and the compulsion to obey became irresistible. She had to submit to order; she had to accept her place in the grand scheme of things. Ratcatcher bowed, touched the metal with her forehead, and felt the control of her body being taken from her. And not just her! Carlos dropped to his knees, and Elina lowered herself onto one knee. Other trainees followed suit, with only the strange twins, Vasily, and a large spider boy standing their ground, frowning and sweating.
Instructors were next to them in a moment, helping the members of their group stand up and calming them with words. Torosian touched Ratcatcher’s forehead, almost gently helping the girl sit, when a howl came from the hologram.
Dad’s encouragement during the training. Vengy’s cheerful laugh at her first downed spider. Mom’s hands supported her when she was learning to walk on two legs. The adrenaline she felt upon planning to save Carlos. An urge to help others. You are humans, the howl cried. And that is enough. Spit in the face of inevitability and go out on your own damn terms! Stand up and fight for your lives! The compulsion to bow got broken, shattered by the sheer abnormal rage and aggression.
"Turn off the audio, Augustus," Torosian ordered, checking Ratcatcher's and then Elina's heartbeats. "The trainees are not ready."
In the hologram, someone leaped at the dragon. Both the figure and the dragon’s paw became nothing but blurry when the two fighters attacked each other. But the most shocking were the clouds. Lightning came from above, and the hologram shifted, showing a whole mountain range being pummeled into oblivion by never-ending energy strikes. There were no avalanches; the stones themselves melted in this shower of destruction. Once more, the hologram changed its perception, showing the battlefield from above. For a while, all of them saw the black clouds riddled with flashes of lightning, but soon the clouds dissipated.
A molten lake lay beneath, and the dragon’s broken form lay in its middle. Each wound was blurred, but Ratcatcher had gathered enough to see just how brutal his demise was. Someone or something was sitting on top of it; more dragons were flying in the air, circling around their dead leader, and for kilometers and kilometers around, everything turned into overheated liquid.
“Before you is the result of a battle between Commander Ravager and Thunder Emperor Vasco Murzaliev, a duel that put an end to the wyrm’s invasion into the lands of the Reclamation Army.” The instructor turned off the hologram and came closer, checking on his students. After touching Elina’s throat, he made the girl drink water and ordered Carlos to breathe in and out slowly to calm down. Vasily and Ratcatcher were commanded to sit and recover. “Whole mountain ranges in the region ended up being destroyed or at least rearranged; a walled settlement was annihilated; and the largest wyrm alive ended up being dead.”
“Wyrm?” Ratcatcher asked, grabbing her terminal and inputting the dragon’s name. A four-thousand-page-long debate over whether to call these beings wyrms or dragons came out first. “Not a dragon?”
“They prefer to be called wyrms.” Augustus raised a finger. “Yet, deep down, they are just as human as you and I. They got changed because of the glow.”
He started explaining a bit about the Reclamation Army to the trainees.
The trainees knew about the Reclaimers, a gigantic nation trying to compete with Iterna for control over the restoration process around the world, and the Oathtakers by now, their teachers were very thorough about both the internal and external history of Iterna. But the instructor also told them about the various cultures of the Reclamation Army.
The group learned about the wild and deadly Wolf Tribe, the shock troopers of the Reclaimers. about the noble and cunning Ice Fang order, the shield of the rival state, and about their rowdy Orais, a mighty abnormals charging headstrong into battle. All of them had their own cultures and norms, and with each, different types of negotiation were needed in order to reach an optimum result.
Like Iterna, the Reclaimers also had their own champions. Wyrm Lord, an enormous golden wyrm who inspired awe with his sheer look. At first, all of them laughed at this idea, but then Augustus showed them his picture.
One. The dude was enormous! Even the sand reaper looked smallish compared to it! Ratcatcher wasn’t sure why a dragon could be called a human, but he was as tall as some skyscrapers with an insanely long wingspan! Although he was a bit smaller than the purple one. Wyrm Lord looked like a newborn sun, like a long-lost dawn that had finally come to dispel the darkness. Pure golden light seeped through his every scale and pore, leaving no shadow in his presence, only a brilliant halo surrounding his golden majesty.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Two. He was weird. Just by looking at the picture, Ratcatcher felt an urge to bow once more, and the other trainees experienced the same. Their instructor explained this phenomenon as an unconscious mental manipulation on Wyrm Lord’s part. And where the unconscious was present, so too was the conscious, and this is what they experienced before.
This comment left them somewhat puzzled, but Torosian came closer, speaking with Augustus about something, and the trainees found themselves relieved for a time. Ratcatcher darted to the displays showing the outside, eager to see the golden dragon, but only swirling sand greeted her, along with occasional sparks of lightning, reminding her of storm clouds.
How awesome it would be to be there! Sneaking from crack to crevice, evading the storm’s fury, fighting for every breath of fresh air! What an amazing test of her skills it would have been! But alas, the instructors never allowed the trainees to be in any real danger, never ready to stop sparring or come to their aid.
She clasped her hands and muttered a small prayer for all those stuck in the sandstorm, asking the Planet to spare them. And let her see a dragon. And maybe even let her ride one.
“Daydreaming, rat-girl?” Elina asked, coming closer, and Ratcatcher sighed.
From their group, only Vasily, Carlos and Elina were present today. Each instructor chose the four best trainees from their groups for today's training mission. With instructors and so many soldiers, the girl felt completely safe and this trip was amazing. Her only problems were Elina and Vasily.
Their relationships soured, but she could hardly blame anyone but herself for this. She was the one who dragged Elina and Carlos into a line of fire. Because of her, they got injured! So when they played a few pranks on her or called her a rat-girl, she simply brushed it off. Planet knows she deserved far worse.
In the past few months, she has tried to socialize with or befriend her new team, but alas. They simply shared too few interests, and she was tired of their teasing about her looks and their incessant pranks. Every time a party started or classes ended, Ratcatcher found herself all alone, unless there was a group project going on.. Then she enjoyed a bit of talk.
If everywhere you go you cannot find a friend, maybe it's time for some self-reflection? She remembered Dad’s words from her youth. In a sense, it was her own fault. Too timid, too easy to shut up, and occasionally too strange. When others went to the cinema, she stayed in her room. The same thing happened when the trainees decided to crash at a club. Of course, her team gave up on her and now treats her as a joke; who wouldn’t?
She even ended up locked in a toilet after her recent win over Elina. It was a silly thing, really. Explorators, whether full-ranking or in training, always used custom gear and weapons. Under Augustus’ supervision, the group had made their brand-new melee weapons and immediately got excited about testing them out in a ring.
Ratcatcher used the mancatcher’s, as she named her bladed spear, shaft to block Elina’s metal knuckles. A special alloy she had used in the creation of her precious weapon protected her from the energy discharges of the other girl's metal knuckles, and a clever slash across the leg with the blunt side of her weapon had opened a path to victory, allowing Ratcatcher to choke out the other girl, leaving Elina nearly boiling with rage at her loss. For the life of her, Ratcatcher could not understand the reason behind it. When powers were allowed to be used in training, everyone was sent flying by the shockwaves. Elina was already the strongest in the group; what was she getting all pissy about?
Soon after, the door leading out of the toilet became jammed, and laughter announced the guilty party. Rather than breaking the door down, Ratcatcher used the ventilation shaft to escape this predicament, finally completing her dream of exploring the Academy’s tunnels. The only thing ruining the experience was that she landed right before Augustus and Torosian, but thankfully, no one said anything.
“I wondered if I could see a dragon.” Ratcatcher turned her back on Elina, tugging on the collar of her suit. Like every trainee today, she was wearing the underarmor, a special type of a body glove that tightly pressed against the skin, reading even the barest movements of muscles beneath the skin. When combined with power armor, it allowed for smoother power armor use.
“They are hiding in Fort Uglo, moron.” Elina chuckled and came to stand closer. She pointed at a human-sized stone being rolled against the surface. “See? With this kind of wind, even wyrms are bound to feel themselves uncomfortable.”
“You’re wrong,” Ratcatcher replied stubbornly. “During the invasion of the Thunder Emperor, even greater storms accompanied his forces. Whole hills were uprooted, and lightning coming from underneath the heavy clouds could have swatted a Titan off the sky. And yet, dragons attacked just fine.”
She learned about this during the lecture, reading all she could about dragons from her terminal. Actual giants who are not hostile to humans! Looking even cooler than the ones she saw in morning cartoons! Their scales were like shields; their legs were big enough to flatten a tank; and their claws were bigger than her entire body. And Wyrm Lord, the bearer of one of the greatest offensive powers, was the greatest of them!
I wonder how he stacks up against Eugenia…
“Whatever you say, ugly.” Elina snapped her fingers.
Ratcatcher clenched her fist. For one reason or another, nature had evenly split her body in two. The skull on her left protruded forward, forming a snout, before sliding elegantly into the right side of her head. Her left arm and legs ended up in strong paws, and gorgeous fur has covered the left side of her body. Meanwhile, the right side of the trainee’s body looked mostly normal—a human eye and not a beady crimson orb like her left one. A hand and a leg. The skin on her right side was so-called normal, albeit now slightly tanned. And in her mouth, fangs turned into teeth, creating a somewhat weird visage when she smiled.
People thought her weird, and they had a right to that. The nostril on her left side of her body didn’t connect with the nostril on her right side and was instead pushed forward. Yeah, not a great look. But the doctors checked her and found no mutation impeding her life. But by calling her ugly, Elina implied by extension that her family was ugly.
Both girls locked gazes, and Elina’s fist mirrored Ratcatcher’s movement. They went completely stiff, ready to strike at each other the moment one of them made a first move.
I am not an animal. Ratcatcher blinked, loosening up and noticing the headmaster’s eyes on them. A strange sense of guilt came over her, and Elina unclenched her fist, looking just as confused as she did. I refuse to become a person who would punch another for running her mouth.
“Lay off her,” Carlos said, coming closer, along with Vasily. “Elina, we are about to go on the mission. Pipe down and behave as a leader instead of acting like a toddler. If you can’t, just say so and let Eliza take over.”
“Stop joking!” Ratcatcher blinked. Out of their group, Carlos was always the most amiable with her. But a leader?
“I…” Elina stopped and frowned. She glanced at Ratcatcher and breathed out. “Yeah, fair. Carlos, Eliza, and Vasily, none of you are to get injured during the training. You got it?” She asked, looking into their eyes, and for a second, Ratcatcher saw a glimpse of that girl who saved her life in these chestnut eyes. “If this means failing the training, so be it; I will take the fall. Now…” She stopped, casting a fierce look at the other side of the compartment.
Four trainees, a group much like their own, were there. One was a tall young teen with silver hair. Like all of them, he wore a blue underarmor but also put on a blue leather collar with a high collar on it. A terminal floated next to his shoulder, suspended in the air by his telekinesis.
Next to him was a spider. Ratcatcher knew that she shouldn’t call other people's names, but you can’t argue with the truth! The boy, or girl, almost splattered on his belly, spreading eight long, hairy legs around himself. The trainee had six eyes, six orbs of pure darkness, four in a lower row, and two more just above them. Hairy coverage, serving the trainee as antennas, was now slightly hidden beneath a custom-model underarmor.
Elina ignored both and looked furiously at the two other teens, who leaned against the wall, smiling like angels. The teens perfectly mimicked each other’s movements; their bald heads reflected the soft lighting of the compartment, and it took a second for Ratcatcher to understand that one of them was a boy and the girl next to him was a girl. Twins.
“Mind getting out of our heads, Esmeralda?” Elina demanded, and the silver-haired boy jumped in place, grabbing his comrades by their collars.
The guilt disappeared, and Ratcatcher caught herself with the desire to smash her fist against Elina’s smug face once more. Yeah, striking first was bad. But she is asking for it!
“Wait!” she cried out, pointing a finger accusatory at the twins. “Did you seriously just rummage in my mind? I’ll have you know, I do not consider myself ugly for real, it was just a figure of…” Elina planted her hand and muffled the rest of the explanation.
“No one seriously considers you to be ugly, you idiot!” Eliza hissed and looked at the other group. “Keep your freaks from tampering with our emotions!”
“My bad!” The silver-haired boy came closer, levitating the terminal in the pocket of his coat. “Esmeralda and Edward are getting overly excited when there are too many people around.”
“We can’t read thoughts, Trainee Eliza,” the twins responded in unison, somewhat freaking her out. Seeing her look, Edward winced playfully, breaking the almost ideal cohesion between the two. His sister sighed and continued, “Please accept our apologies. When others are arguing nearby, we feel a recoil of sorts.”
“And it becomes hard to resist the urge and fix the problem,’ Edward finished.
Ratcatcher tore Elina’s hand off her mouth and said, “You can’t finish anything by brainwashing people! Seriously, if it bothers you so much, come near and talk. Explain the situation. Or move away or some...” The realization of where they were hit her. Even Elina pinched the base of her nose. “Yeah, stupid, agree, my bad. But don’t go around switching people’s moods like that!”
“Augustus’ group, on behalf of Torosian’s group, I offer you my apologies.” The silver-haired boy bowed, pressing his right hand to the shoulder. “It will not happen again. Name’s Rowen.” He shook hands with the group, leaving Elina for last. When they clasped their hands, the smile disappeared from his face. “You have a right to be distraught, Lady Elina. But call my team members freaks once again, and I will firmly plant my fist into your face.”
“You want to say that you will try,” Elina said calmly, cracking her knuckles.
“I know what I said,” the other trainee replied in an icy voice.
Torosian turned to look at them, making Ratcatcher worry. For one reason or another, the headmaster had decided to lead a few trainees himself this time rather than doing only his duties as a leader of the Academy’s branch. Where Augustus had only three abnormals with power—Elina, Carlos, and Ratcatcher herself—and the other instructors had even fewer abnormals with power, nearly all in Instructor Torosian’s group had powers.
Eighteen individuals, three of whom passed the Misery Week by overpowering most obstacles. Most prized and desired stock. And also, most wild. Torosian had already expelled one student for disobedience, and she had no desire to give the bastard another opportunity to do so.
“Want to have a go after the training, feckless boy?” Elina cracked her neck.
“Rowen, please stop picking fights!” Esmeralda pushed between the two, folding her hands on her chest pleadingly. “Conflict is bad!”
“Yeah, you’re right!” Ratcatcher laughed, wrapping her arms around Elina and Carlos and dragging a surprised Vasily closer with a tail. “How about a friendly competition? The one who scores higher, owes a pizza to the loser!”
“Deal,” Rowen said, before a frown came onto his face and the twins filled the compartment with their giggling. “Wait, the hell am I just agreeing to? The winner pays for a loser?”
“Too late!” Vasily said quickly, showing a small portable terminal. “Everything was recorded, Mister Privileged! Pay up for being successful!”
“We could have taken them,” Elina grumbled.
“Torosian’s group?” Carlos grinned. “No way.”
“Rowen, ya bastard, ya always find the worst holes for us to get stuck in,” the last of their team said, spreading his mandibles and speaking with a completely normal male voice with a slight accent. Only when the abnormal stood did Ratcatcher understand just how huge this boy was.
The Titan class aircraft was a small-scale carrier meant to transport various armored vehicles and emergency supplies to the front lines. Strictly speaking, its current loadout is nothing. But the spider boy… Ratcatcher went a bit pale, seeing him whole and witnessing the uncanny similarity to the man-eating spiders of her old home.
The eight arching legs lifted the round body, blocking a light and casting a shadow on a few trainees, who quickly scurried away. When the trainee took his first step, the floor shuddered a bit beneath his weight. Striding toward them, the abnormal’s round body swayed a little. His single leg was three times longer than Ratcatcher, and even now his back nearly scratched the ceiling.
She first thought he was a member of the Insectoid Commune, a group of abnormals living in the Oathtakers’ lands. But when the spider legs carried him closer, the trainee saw an array of perfectly human hands beneath the belly, some undeniably female and others belonging to males, all covered by the underarmor. The boy was a Malformed.
“Greetings to ya all, and forgive the troubles we brought to ya,” the spider said, extending one of his hairy legs. “Jumail.”
He didn’t seem to mind when no one shook his appendage and had already started moving back the arm when Ratcatcher jumped forward, remembering all the looks people had thrown at her. The Academy, despite its willingness, had precious few non-human-looking abnormals.
“Ratcatcher!” Chitin covered the limb, and there were tiny hairs growing out of it. The coverage was not complete, leaving space where a gray hide was seen, and the natural plates themselves had various shapes, ranging from squares to uneven rhombuses, further hinting at Jumail’s unclean lineage. “Are you training to become an explorator, too? Sorry for running my mouth, but you are… A bit…”
“The size of a small tank, yeah, I get that a lot,” Jumail replied good-naturedly, his mandibles spread, mimicking a smile when Elina followed Ratcatcher’s example. “No, I’ll join the military. My presence in the Academy is more because of selfish reasons.”
“Looks?” Ratcatcher asked him.
“Yeah. Kind of bothersome. That and…” Two of his eyes shifted, looking at his instructor. “And other personal problems.”
She opened her mouth to ask what sort of problems he was referring to and shut it immediately after Elina surprisingly gently hit her in the side with an elbow. It made her think, and she remembered what the teachers had told her about this group.
Malformed were a tribe of violent and cruel mutants roaming some of the desolate regions of the world. This wasn’t slander; Augustus showed them the aftermath of their attacks. Whole villages were butchered. And their inhabitants were… ingested.
But at the same time, Malformed were humans, just like everyone else. Their tribes were ruled with an iron fist by the strongest abnormals among their ranks. Any attempt at dissension or arguing for cohabitation was violently shut down, often ending up with deaths as leaders made an example. Yet here and now, a tribe ended up being conquered by either the Reclaimers or the Oathtakers. While adults were obviously guilty and had to spend years in prison, both paying for the crimes and being rehabilitated to a normal existence, what about kids?
Iterna never waged offensive wars; at least the history lessons told her so. Other nations did, and they wiped out captured Malformed to the last. Only the Oathtakers never did so, preferring instead to lock hissing and angry mutants in special facilities and help them readjust. Seeing that this method was working, the Reclaimers apparently also joined this practice. An international treaty was signed, protecting the sanctity of children’s lives, no matter their origin.
So, what gives? Even if Jumail’s parents were captured or escaped to Iterna, what kind of problems could he really face? Sure, some assholes had probably pestered him about visiting a clinic and shaping his body to that of a human, and some looked weird, but…
A movement on the display screen made her jump high, letting go of everyone. She saw it! No one believed her, but she saw it!
“A dragon!” she roared happily, pointing at the outside.
In an instant, everyone was near her, trainees and instructors alike. Fear and wariness at Jumail’s unusual appearance were all forgotten, and the teens pressed themselves against his legs, and Carlos, Vasily, Rowen, and the twins quickly climbed on top of his body, in order to see the display better.
“What are you all stupid?” Elina looked at everyone and bowed, noticing the instructors. “My apologies; it was rude of me. But…” She pointed at the display, which showed just swirling clouds pierced by lightning. “…There is nothing out there! Eliza simply saw a fluke, nothing more!”
“I know what I saw!” Ratcatcher stubbornly argued, almost leaning against the screen. “Just a moment ago! A dragon!”
“Let us see,” Augustus said, coming forward. A part of the carapace on his wrist slid away, revealing a strange remote pulsing with genuine organic flesh and having actual plastic buttons. The instructor tapped on the buttons, and the image on the display froze, starting to rewind back. Elina tried to keep a bored expression when her eyes widened at the sight of the undeniable proof.
A lightning flash illuminated a part of an enormous leather wing covered with scales. Because of the distance and the sand in the path, along with the light from the energy bolt, it was impossible to tell the color, but Ratcatcher felt her breath stop at the sight of this gigantic membrane holding the supposedly immense person in the air.
Not even nature’s wrath could damage it. The wing, with no protection on it, safe for the scales at the edge and the natural toughness of the membrane, simply cut through the storm front.
How could a dragon be a human? The contradiction boggled her mind. Yes, scientists have long since proven that every sentient mutant in the world originated straight from a human. For example, insectoids, a bane of the Ravaged Lands and nearby regions, were the remains of a living bioweapon that escaped from a laboratory during the Extinction and later mutated further. But the Insectoid Commune were people, changed by both glow and radiation. And dragons apparently were the same.
“See! I was right! A dragon!” Ratcatcher jumped, and Augustus took her by the shoulder.
“They are called wyrms. Would you like being called a rat, trainee?” Augustus asked, looking at the cringing Elina without blinking.
“No, sir.” Ratcatcher answered.
“Then don’t call them dragons.” He let go of her, patting Elina on the shoulder. “Twenty days, trainee.”
“I wonder if he will let me ride him if I ask nicely? Our countries are allies, right?” Ratcatcher asked, noticing how a sour expression on Elina’s face changed into one of genuine worry.
“No!” The teen stomped on the floor. “Don’t even dare to speak with this person! If he ever approaches you, call the instructor immediately!” She looked at Augustus. “Am I right that this is…”
“The Ravaged Lands only have three wyrms.” The instructor nodded. “This wing is too small to belong to Wyrm Lord, and I doubt we could have missed his presence regardless. Seeing that Warlord Dragena is the one who provides the perimeter security, this means that this could only be him.” Augustus lifted his brow, looking at the other instructors.
“I concur,” a crimson-haired woman said. Unlike other instructors who preferred lighter models of power armor, she was wearing a massive metal suit, leaving her head tiny against the sheer size of the metal on her body. “Yet it makes little sense. Captain Murzaliev is not a person to willingly expose himself to natural hazards out of cordiality.”
"Something happened." Torosian's face hardened. "Good eyes, Eliza. Quick thinking, Elina, keep your group out of trouble. Gear up, trainees; we are landing in ten minutes."