“It seems that Bat has been taken into custody,” Uriel says, his voice steady but his brow furrowed with tension. He stands tall, shoulders square, gripping his shield with his left hand, the leather strap creaking as his knuckles tighten around it. His right hand, still by his side, fingers gently brushing against the hilt of his sword, ready but restrained. His gaze is locked forward, scanning the horizon as if expecting trouble at any moment.
Lance, positioned a few feet away, shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his brow raised in slight apprehension. His lance rests loosely in his right hand, the tip pointed towards the ground, while his shield is braced against his body, his fingers drumming lightly against the rim as if impatient for action. “Yeah, what about us then?” Lance asks, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. “What will we do?”
Uriel turns his head slightly toward Lance, his eyes narrowing with purpose as he lifts his sword just an inch from its scabbard, the faintest metallic sound cutting through the silence. “What Arata has asked us to,” he replies with a firm nod, shifting his stance so his feet are grounded, his back straightening with resolve. “Take care of the situation here, in Newzland.”
Lance steps back slightly, adjusting his shield into a firmer position against his left forearm. His lips press into a thin line as he glances around the area, his boots grinding against the pavement outside Hex’s HQ in Newzland, Auckland. His legs feel taut, ready to move at any moment. He flexes his fingers along the shaft of his lance, grip tightening, and his eyes darken with determination as he absorbs Uriel’s words.
Meanwhile, across the world in front of America’s Hex HQ, Cheese stands to the side, his posture more relaxed but his eyes sharp and focused. He rolls his shoulders back and crosses his arms, a slight smirk curling at the corner of his lips as he glances over at The Queen and Butter. “So, that was his plan. I see,” Cheese says, his voice low but with a subtle edge, eyes flicking toward The Queen.
The Queen stands tall, her regal posture unwavering, her fingers resting gently on her staff, which is planted firmly into the ground. Her gaze is intense, her lips pursed as she contemplates the situation, her left hand rising slightly to brush a strand of hair from her face. Beside her, Butter stands, more tense, shifting her weight from foot to foot, hands clenched into fists as she stares ahead. Her jaw is set tight, her legs trembling slightly with the urge to act, but she restrains herself, glancing at The Queen for a moment as if seeking reassurance.
“They’ll bring her here soon,” Cheese continues, his hand raising to scratch at the back of his neck, his eyes narrowing as he considers Arata’s words. “If what Arata said is correct, Dan should’ve interrupted the trucks that were transporting Jennifer… and lost the battle by now.”
Butter exhales sharply, her hands falling to her sides, fingers twitching, her legs shifting as if she’s preparing to spring into action. The Queen’s fingers grip her staff just a little tighter, a subtle flex of her muscles betraying the tension simmering beneath her calm exterior. All eyes are now on the horizon, waiting for the next move, the weight of Arata’s plan pressing down on them like an unspoken challenge.
Dan's fight had gone exactly as Arata predicted, though it was no easy feat. The sun was starting to dip, casting long shadows over the barren stretch of road where the ambush had taken place. The trucks carrying Jennifer were halted in a stand-off, tires kicking up dust as Dan’s team engaged Hex's forces. His breathing was ragged, his body covered in cuts and bruises, sweat mingling with dirt as he kept fighting. His fists clenched tightly around his weapons, every muscle in his body aching from the relentless blows he had delivered and received in turn.
Dan’s movements were heavy now, each step feeling like it dragged through mud. His boots dug into the ground as he squared off against the last of his opponents, a hulking Hex enforcer who was just as battered but still standing tall. Dan's body tensed, his legs coiled with force as he lunged forward with one final swing, his blade arcing through the air. The enforcer parried it with a grunt, sending a powerful kick into Dan’s side that made him stagger backward. His hand shot out to brace himself against the ground, knees almost buckling beneath him.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Despite the pain shooting through his ribs, Dan’s resolve never wavered. His teeth were gritted, face twisted in concentration as he forced himself to stand upright again, though his legs felt like they would give out at any moment. His left arm hung limply at his side, dislocated from a nasty blow earlier in the battle. With his good arm, he raised his weapon one last time, eyes burning with defiance even as his body screamed for rest.
The enforcer charged at him with brutal force, slamming Dan’s body into the side of a truck. The impact sent a shockwave of pain through his back, and his knees finally gave out. He fell to the ground, dust rising up around him as he tried to catch his breath, struggling to push himself back up with his one good arm.
But it was over. Dan knew it. His vision blurred, the edges of his consciousness dimming as the world around him slowed. The enforcer’s heavy boot pressed against his chest, pinning him to the ground. The sound of distant sirens grew louder, Hex’s reinforcements arriving just as Arata had foreseen.
Dan’s grip on his weapon loosened, his arm falling to the side in defeat. His chest heaved with labored breaths as the weight of his loss settled in. He had fought hard—harder than most could—but it wasn’t enough. Not this time. Hex’s soldiers moved in, surrounding him, their cold, emotionless faces staring down at him as they cuffed his wrists behind his back.
As they dragged him to his feet, his head lolled to the side, catching a glimpse of the trucks speeding off with Jennifer still inside. Arata had been right, but that knowledge did little to ease the sting of his failure. His legs felt like dead weight as they pushed him forward toward one of the waiting vehicles, his body limp but his mind still racing, trying to piece together what was to come next.
The truck door slammed shut behind him, and as the engine roared to life, Dan knew there was no escaping now. His body slumped against the cold metal wall of the truck, eyes closing as exhaustion washed over him.
As the dust settled from the chaos of Dan’s defeat, miles away, Arata stood alone in front of a massive, imposing building—a Hex HQ, but not one he had ever seen before. The sun was relentless overhead, beating down on him with a scorching intensity that made the air ripple in waves. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and his shirt clung to his back, drenched in the stifling heat.
He squinted against the harsh sunlight, eyes narrowing as he took in the sheer size of the place. This Hex HQ was different—larger, more fortified, and eerily silent. The tall, dark walls loomed over him, casting long shadows that did little to break the oppressive heat. Every inch of the ground seemed to crack under the sun’s merciless gaze, dry and unforgiving.
Arata’s stance was firm, his legs slightly apart as his boots ground into the dry dirt beneath him. His left hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his fingers lightly drumming against it, though his body remained relaxed. His right hand hung loosely by his side, fingers gently twitching in anticipation. The sun reflected off his blade’s pommel, creating a sharp glint that flickered like a spark in the air.
He took a slow, deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he let the silence settle around him. A faint breeze swept through, offering a brief moment of relief before disappearing into the suffocating heat. He stared at the HQ’s entrance with calm intensity, his jaw set but his expression unreadable, as though everything that had happened up to this point had led him here—this unknown place, under the burning sky.
The silence stretched on, and yet Arata remained unmoved, his mind focused. He knew what was coming next. His plan had unfolded as expected, with all the pieces falling into place. Dan had played his part, and now it was his turn. The weight of the moment pressed on his shoulders, but he stood tall, resolute. His eyes narrowed once more as he studied the fortified walls ahead.
The sun hung high in the sky, merciless and unforgiving. But Arata’s gaze remained fixed on the looming building, his shadow stretching long behind him on the cracked ground, as if the very earth beneath his feet recognized the gravity of what was to come.