Elias stands on the bow of the catamaran gawking up at the sharp black peaks of the triad mountains. They are taller than the skyscrapers of Terre Goth. Each mountain is as large as a city itself stretching broad and high into the stars.

Angel stands to his side with her ears perked up to the wild sounds coming from the forests coating the base of the mountains. Low growls of predators and labored cries of prey. Birds calling in the darkness and creatures scampering through the brush. Her heightened senses serve up all the sights and sounds.

Some of the others begin to spill out from the passenger cabin onto the deck. They mutter and cluster together in groups. No one ventures from the boat. No one speaks above a terrified whisper. Each man and woman reconsider the sinister lore they grew up telling the other children. How much of it was actually fable and how much true?

“I think it is time for you to see what is inside the lockbox?” Angel whispers.

Elias doesn’t move. He is frozen in place, eyes bulging taking in the enormity of the island. Had he ever considered this to be real before now? Likely not. He had never really considered anything beyond the Valley. Beyond day-to-day survival actually.

A short sharp-dressed man struggles through the crowd toward the captain's cabin. “I’m going to squeeze your neck until your eyes pop out of your skull.” He has murder in his eyes and his nostrils are flared like he is about to breathe fire.

Other passengers try to shush the man as his voice cuts through the hushed ambiance of the dark island. He hisses at them and shoves them to the sides. “Boys, Boys!” He shouts at the two large men with him. They are looking out into the darkness not attending to his commands. They spring into action as he shouts in the night.

Angel listens as the creatures of the night grow suddenly quiet near them. Her hair stands on end imagining them turning their attention to the boat on the shore below them. She wonders how long it will take the beasts to tear through this crowd of soft flesh gathered here together.

Elias still hasn’t responded. His eyes are drawn straight up to the stars above. Something soars across the stars from one peak to the other. As the massive creature glides overhead, the stars go dark. Smaller, winged beings flee before it. All of them are swifter than drones. He swallows and prays they are not looking down at him from way up there.

Something is prowling toward the boat from the depth of the dense forest above. Angel can hear the faint rustling from the underbrush. The sound of other critters scattering away from the beast alarms her. She is near to panting now. She reaches out and clutches Elias by the back of his arm.

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“Go up there and drag her down to me by the nape of her neck. Pluck her up by the hair on her head and drop her here at my feet. I want to cut her thieving fingers off myself.” Leo demands.

Some in the crowd begin to panic now in an effort to quiet down the loud man in the manilla suit. The two giant twins pluck up warry passengers and set them aside to cut through the crowd quicker. A red-haired man laughs aloud at the scene. Hunter draws his gun and holds it in the air trying to calm the commotion.

“Elias.” Angel tugs at his arm and speaks more urgently, “It is time to see what is in the locked box in the cabin.

Hunter fires the gun, and everyone freezes. The sound cuts through the night like a knife. Their world freezes for a moment. Everyone looks back at the man with the gun.

Angel strains her ears, but she can no longer hear the beast prowling through the underbrush ahead. “Elias!” She hisses. “Now!”

Elias blinks and finally shows he registers her words. He ducks into the captain’s cabin and rushes to the steel box. It is sleek and polished. Curved and engraved with a tribal pattern. A single black dragon is carved in the center of the lid with a tribal heart boldly portrayed at the center of its chest. Elias looks the steel case over and finds the pad for his finger.

“Rex. Get me that gun.” Leo commands.

Angel begins to swoon as the light fades from her senses. Already the vibrant energy is fading from her. She feels her legs weaken as the essence fades from her, but her ears perk at the last sounds her sensitive ears pluck out of the chaos. The beast is charging toward them from the dark forest ahead. She reaches down deep and finds a flicker of the light Elias had spoken of earlier. She grabs at it with her spirit. She wills it forward, up into her senses. Just a little longer she pleads as she stumbles backward. Her eyes pick up a sleek form in the darkness moving at an impossible speed toward them.

She shrieks and points as the last of her strength is washed out from her, “It’s coming, hide!” Her legs buckle and she collapses to the deck.

Elias presses his thumb to the scanner and the lid flings open. The chest is full of weapons. A foam mattress is cut to the shape of each weapon. A half dozen handguns, a rifle, a shotgun, some weapons he has never even seen before, some explosives, and a pair of silver swords. His eyes lock on the swords and his hands are moving before he even wills them too.

He snatches one of the swords and lifts it up to view the pattern burnt into the blade. It is a battle scene intricately seared in great detail. Bones and corpses piled high from the hilt to the tip of the blade. Men and beasts lay dead upon the flat of the blade. Horses twisted over riders. Weapons, burning flags, armor, guns, grotesque beings with bulging dead eyes. All the dead lay waste in a trail leading to one man at the tip of the blade. He is the lone man standing with sword in hand pointing toward the unseen enemy somewhere beyond the end of the blade.

Elias looks down at the other weapons in the unsealed box, but none make his heart hammer in his chest like the blade in his hand. Outside the commotion builds into a dull roar. Is he supposed to hand these out to the crew? He shudders imagining the turmoil. Then he closes the lid.