A woman in a glamorous suit appeared on a large monitor in the Bastion's hallway, holding a perfume bottle. She murmured, almost to herself, "Judicial revolution… reducing activism… appointment of judges… restraining the High Court of Justice… “she then turn the bottle perfume. and show a the label Fascism”. Smells like democracy to me." ended with a wink.

The assistant led Wanderer through the base's bustling corridors. The air vibrated with the sounds of soldiers prepping for missions and the clang of weights from the gym. As they walked, the assistant filled Wanderer in on the situation.

"Things with the Caliphate have been… spicy, lately, sir," he began, his tone serious but casual. "The Mermaid settlement popping up has really stirred the pot. Some folks think it could kick off a full-blown civil war over there. That’s why your mission is so critical – to open up comms and hopefully keep things from exploding."

They arrived at a supply room, the walls packed with high-tech gear and weaponry. "Here’s your loadout, sir," the assistant said, gesturing to the array of equipment. "Top-of-the-line stealth gear: invisibility cloak, silent pulse rifle. Designed for undetected infiltration."

Wanderer examined the pulse rifle, a smirk forming on his lips. "We’re here to speak, not to kill. But new toys are always good," he replied, his eyes scanning the weapons. "But tell me, what do you mean the Mermaid could spark a civil war within the Caliphate?"

The assistant handed Wanderer the pulse rifle, explaining its features. "This baby will give you the edge you need. Silent mode, low energy signature, and a built-in cloaking device. Perfect for covert ops." He paused, considering how to explain the situation with the Mermaid. "Well, sir, you see... The Mermaid's settlement represents a challenge to the traditional values held by many in the Caliphate. If her influence grows, it could split the Caliphate apart."

Lowering his voice, the assistant glanced around to ensure no one else could hear. "There are rumors that the False Prophet, a charismatic figure who opposes the Caliph, has been secretly supporting the Mermaid."

Wanderer raised an eyebrow. "What is this? Why have I never heard this before? Who are you?"

The assistant nodded towards the others to leave. "I'm just a man trying to survive in these troubled times. As for your question, I've been keeping tabs on things. It's not easy getting information out there, especially when dealing with such secretive factions."

He crossing his arms over his chest. "But don't worry, I'm sure you'll get used to all this intrigue soon enough. Now, if you're done with the small talk, let's focus on the mission at hand."

Wanderer narrowed his eyes, "No. Do you think I will just brush it over? Tell me, what’s your true agenda?"

The assistant sighed, running a hand through his hair. "My 'agenda,' as you put it, is simply to keep everyone alive and breathing. These factions are like a game of chess—every move has consequences. I want to make sure those consequences aren't fatal ones."

He stood up, pacing around the room. "I provide information, equipment... whatever it takes to level the playing field. That way, nobody gets too powerful or reckless. So yes, my 'true agenda' is stability amidst chaos."

Wanderer crossed his arms, "I hope so. Are you the... puppeteer guy?"

The assistant stopped pacing and turned to face Wanderer. "Puppeteer? No, not exactly. More like an observer, really. I watch from the sidelines and step in when necessary." He sat down again, leaning back in his chair. "I don't pull strings or manipulate people directly. I just give them the tools they need to survive on their own terms."

"Alright," Wanderer said, “So far, you talk well. Because if you don’t, I will make you see your brain splattered."

The assistant raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Mutilation and threats, Wanderer? How very unphilosophical of you." He stood up slowly, moving around the table until he was standing directly in front of Wanderer. "But I understand your point. Actions speak louder than words, especially in our line of work."

"Good day to you," Wanderer replied, turning to leave.

The assistant chuckled softly, "Indeed. A good day to you as well, Wanderer."

Wanderer mounted the airship, settling into the designated spot as the engines roared to life. The craft ascended into the sky, leaving the ground behind. Watching the airship carry him away, the Assistant turned back towards the horizon, his eyes scanning the distant terrain.

“May God protect him... and guide him safely home,” he murmured,

Later, in the vast expanse of desert sand, Wanderer finally encountered the Caliphate forces crossing the SWAT border, an area that had once been a great city. a legendary one. the last stand of Zion before he defeated on great coalition war, but now its was a desolate city, ravaged by radiation and depleted uranium. both sides using lot of bullet.

Amidst the rubble, mutated plants, bright colors jarring against the yellow-brown sand, twisted towards the sky. Occasionally, a mutated creature scurried among the debris. Wanderer dismounted from the airship and walked among the ruins. He found a man leaning against a beat-up buggy, surrounded by empty bottles.

“Hey, dumbass,” Wanderer said. “What are you doing here? Don’t you know it’s… unhealthy to be here?”

The man, clearly drunk, slurred, “I’m honoring my brother…” hic “…he died fighting the Red Army…” He pointed to a ruined building. “There…”

“I see. And you? what path you will going to die? Choking on your own vomit?” Wanderer pulled the man to his feet. “Get your ass out of here. It’s a warzone now!”

“Hey… chill, man. Another war? Fuck it. I don’t fear death.” He tried to sip from an empty bottle, then tossed it into the dust.

“Don’t fear death? You’ve got nice armor and a car there,” Wanderer gestured to the man’s gear. "You could be doing something more than just wasting your life."

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Yeah, but it’s all repetitive, man. People doing the same thing, acting the same way…”

“Want something new? Join me… as cannon fodder. At least you’d die for something.”

“Huh? Who are you… ” The man squinted, his eyes widening slightly. while looking at wanderer eyes”wait… you’re him! That… uh… what’s your name again?”

“Yeah, I’m him. Just call me Wanderer now.” Wanderer let the man drop back to the ground.

The man coughed, then stood up, a newfound energy in his movements. “My name’s Nishi… ready to serve your excellency!”

“Don’t call me that. Just Wanderer. Any Caliphate movement around here?”

“Them? Yeah… just south of here.”

“Good. Show me.”

“We’re just gonna kill ‘em? Wow… finally, a worthy death!”

“Not that fast, son. We’re going to talk to them.”

Wanderer stood in the dust kicked up by the advancing Caliphate troops. He noted their better equipment—clearly superior to standard SWAT issue. Their sensors picked him up quickly, and guns were raised.

“Chill, guys… I’m here to talk,” Wanderer said into his comm.while hide among the rubble

A figure emerged from the Caliphate ranks, dismounting and walking towards him. He was a high-ranking officer in ornate armor bearing the Caliphate emblem. “Who approaches the Caliphate without permission?” the officer demanded. “State your business, stranger, or we’ll assume you’re hostile.”

“Good... I’m the Wanderer. You might know one or two stories about me,” he replied,

The officer’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of recognition in his face. “Ah, yes… Wanderer. Your reputation precedes you.” He paused. “If you come in peace, we’ll be cautious. Follow me; I’ll take you to our commander. We can discuss why you’re here.” He turned and walked back towards his lines, expecting Wanderer to follow.

“Thanks,” Wanderer said while rise among ruins then he look at Nishi “just stay here guard the airship “, he then step behind the officer.

Wanderer observed the disciplined formation of the troops. They carried a mix of old and new weapons, all well-maintained and ready. nodded to the guards and stopped Wanderer. He went inside. Inside the tent, the there is a another officer sitting on desk with serious face. on his name tag its say Abu Azrael.

“Assalamualaikum… welcome to the desert, Sheriff,” Wanderer said casually. “What brings you to SWAT territory?”

The officer’s Abu Azrael expression softened slightly at the greeting. “Waalaikumusalam,” he replied. “I’m here to protect our borders from threats like yours, But since you’ve come peacefully, we can talk.” He gestured to cushions around a low table with dates and water. “Please, sit.”

“Hmhm... but based on the border, you are the one who violated the territory, man,” Wanderer smirked while took a sit.

Azrael raised an eyebrow,his gaze narrowing slightly. He took a moment to consider Wanderer's words before responding. “Indeed, it appears I am the trespasser here.” He paused,

then sighed deeply. “But let us not forget that both our territories exist within the larger context of this desolate land. Our paths inevitably cross, whether willingly or otherwise.”

then he gesture others to leave the tent,

“Okay… always remember,” Wanderer winked, his tone light. “You can’t bribe me.”

“I would never presume to try,” he replied coolly. “We are here for discussion and negotiation—nothing more.”

“Okay... So, I assume you want more land?” Wanderer leaned back.

The Azrael expression turned serious. “Our need for expansion is a key factor in our being here,” he said, pouring water. “The Caliphate has grown since the war, and our resources are stretched thin. We need more land for our people, for our future.”

“You want more sand to rule?” wanderer asked with smirk

The Azrael tilted his head. “Rule? No. That’s not our goal. The Caliphate wants stability, growth—not domination.” He leaned back, crossing his arms. “We want to expand peacefully, through alliances. But we must secure what we need to survive. What do you suggest?”

Wanderer nodded. “Yeah, but you know the wasteland. Bandits, mutants… atheism,,, nothing fancy here”

The officer nodded slowly. “In a world without faith, how can humanity rebuild? We must preserve Islamic values.” He looked at Wanderer. “How do you protect your people from these influences? How do you maintain order?”

Wanderer took a breath. “I’ve worked with SWAT for years. Extreme problems need extreme solutions,”

Azrael frowned. “Extreme measures…” he murmured. “SWAT’s methods often clash with our principles. Their violence goes against our compassion. “He looked intently at Wanderer. “But our goal should be to uplift humanity, not degrade it.”

Wanderer shifted. “Easy to say if you’re not fighting them. I try to find something humane in mutants, but it’s hard when they want to eat me.”

Azrael expression softened. “I understand. Constant exposure can erode empathy.” He leaned forward. “The True Horde’s violence is troubling. But not all mutants are like that. Many just struggle to survive. They adapt in both admirable and disturbing ways.”

Wanderer ask. “So… are they infidels? Or are they outside that category because they’re… half-animal?”

Azrael shook his head thoughtfully. “It’s not simply about infidelity. It’s about interpretation. The Quran doesn’t address mutants directly. We must apply Islamic principles thoughtfully.” He leaned back. “The True Horde, despite their mutations, still carry the essence of humanity. They have intellect, emotions… perhaps even souls. But their practices are barbaric. We must find solutions that benefit everyone—humans and mutants.”

Wanderer leaned forward. “If you had to choose an enemy, who would you take out first? SWAT or the True Horde?”

Azrael stroked his beard. “Both are dangerous. But SWAT is a more immediate concern.” He leaned forward. “Their ideology is rooted in hate. They see non-believers as inferior. They could spread their poison and destabilize the fragile peace.,, they are remnant of old world hatred” He looked grim. “They’d target both combatan and civilians. We can’t let our guard down with such hostile entities.”

Wanderer leaned back. “You talk like they’re subhuman,” he said. “I’ve worked with them for years. I’m Muslim too. I’m with them because they mostly target mutants.”

Azrael nodded. “But their actions are based on a twisted worldview. we can’t let our guard down with hostile entities like SWAT..”

Wanderer sipped from his flask. instead the cup on table “SWAT’s in an internal struggle. Give us time. It’s better than war,” he suggested.

Azrael leaned forward. “Prolonged conflict benefits no one. Peaceful coexistence should be the goal. We must understand each other. But we also need strength and preparedness. We can’t be vulnerable.”

“So… can you go back where you belong and keep trading? We’ll handle things in SWAT,” wanderer lean on chair.

“Trading fosters understanding. But understanding isn’t always enough.”” Azrael sighed.

“As long as there’s hostility, lasting peace is hard.” His expression hardened. “But we’ll do what we can. Maybe if we focus on building bridges…”

“Stop talking like I’m a royal delegation. Do you want your men dying in foreign lands?” Wanderer asked directly.

Azrael eyes narrowed. “Of course not. No leader wants that.” He leaned back, “But sacrifices are sometimes necessary. If we do nothing, we risk losing everything.”

“You want blood. I’ll give you worthy blood. How about the True Horde or Series 9?” Wanderer suggested.

Azrael eyebrows rose. “Worthy blood? The True Horde… their abilities and chaos. The Series 9… their technology…” He shook his head. “It’s a risk. Unpredictable. Volatile. They can inflict damage, but there’s potential gain.” He paused. “If it’s between them and continuing this… I wouldn’t dismiss your offer.”

“Don’t see SWAT as a rival,” Wanderer suggested. “See us as an ally against those barbarians.”

Azrael nodded thoughtfully. “An alliance with SWAT… interesting” He sighed. “But we can’t forget their past, their current state. They’ve changed since the war—their beliefs hardened. They once fought against the tyranny of the Free World Army, but they’re slowly becoming what they united against.” He looked at Wanderer. “But there’s strength in numbers. If we find common ground, their ferocity could be useful against these… ‘barbarians.’.”

“Good! Then a non-aggression pact?” Wanderer asked.

“A non-aggression pact… a good start. A gesture of goodwill.” He looked at Wanderer. “Your strategic thinking is commendable.” He extended his hand. “Let’s move forward… against our common enemies.”

Wanderer shook his hand, the deal sealed. As he turned to leave, the officer added, almost as an afterthought, “This… this will require discretion. Not all within the Caliphate will understand this shift in policy.”

Back at the SWAT base, Aresia stood with the assistant, the report in her hand. A relieved smile touched her lips. “Wanderer did it. A non-aggression pact with the Caliphate—for now.”

She turned to Zane. “This is good. Progress toward… something.”

Zane nodded, then he rub his brown hair. “Good work, Wanderer. But we stay vigilant. We still don’t know their true objective.” He paused, his gaze distant. “We use this to gather intel. Capabilities, weaknesses… intentions.”

The assistant spoke, his synthesized voice even. “Commander Zane’s correct. This pact is a step, but we can’t relax. The Caliphate’s history speaks for itself.” He projected a holographic map, highlighting key areas which smaller nation is join with caliphate.

Suddenly, Wanderer’s voice crackled over the comm, “You’re all so damn paranoid...xenophobic warmonger bastards,, hah.. Just give me that raise, okay? We might meet again… I’m out.” The connection cut.

“That Wanderer…” she murmured,

Zane turned from the map. “He’s right about one thing,” he said, his voice low. “We are paranoid. And for good reason.” He looked back at the map, his tone hardening. "This changes nothing. We prepare for the worst."