Optimus, Ian, and Blade go to undo the last seal in an ancient desert world with dragons, curved swords, and turbans. The STF ship touched down with a low hum, kicking up waves of dust across the ancient landing zone.
Ian, Optimus, and Blade stepped off the ramp, eyes scanning the horizon.
Optimus briskly, "Let's get in, break the seal, and get out. Quick mission."
Ian nods, "Clean and simple."
Blade half-grinning, squinting into the distance, "Except for the flying lizards. Pretty sure that one just looked at me funny."
They glance up to see a massive dragon gliding overhead—its wings like sails, its jaws jagged and twitching with heat.
They approached the old wooden gates of a sand-worn fortress. As soon as they declared they were with the Galactic Empire, the gates lowered without hesitation. A tall man in layered robes and desert armor stepped out—his beard braided, sword at his side.
General Rygar "I am General Rygar. What brings the Empire to my fortress?"
Blade coolly: "We're tracking an active seal tied to this location. We need access."
Rygar eyed them for a second, then gave a curt nod. "No need for struggle. I've been expecting something like this. The seal is here."
He led them to a side chamber and handed over the sealed artifact. Ian carefully unlatched the mending bond with a concentrated pulse of Kia.
Ian "Alright. That's it. We're done here—let's head out."
Rygar "Wait. At least accept some hospitality. You've come far."
Optimus, polite but firm, "You don't need to go out of your way."
Rygar smiled faintly, "But I insist."
They followed him into a sandstone war room—dimly lit by lanterns, maps spread across a long table. A woman entered with a tray of ornate cups filled with red liquid. They sat.
Ian watchful, "So, General… what's this really about? And your name?"
Rygar, "I served in the last campaign. Deployed with hundreds. When I returned, the king had been... twisted. Told the people the war was over. Told them we lost nothing. That demons were a lie."
Optimus' brow furrowed. "The government silenced your truth?"
Rygar nods, "My soldiers—what's left of them—are broken. PTSD, fear, silence. We've become ghosts in our own home."
Blade leaning back, shaking his head, "Sounds rough... but we've got places to be—"
Ian cutting in, eyes sharp, "Blade. Enough. Then to Rygar, "We'll help however we can."
Ian sat on the couch, still reviewing the seal readings on his datapad. Optimus leaned against the windowsill, arms crossed, watching the orange glow of torches lining the fortress walls.
Optimus grinning, "I think I'll do a little spy work tonight—blend in, ask around, maybe tail a few guards."
Ian, not even looking up, "You're going to get caught. Again. And I'm not bailing you out this time."
Optimus, smirking, "You always say that. But I know you... You will."
He grabbed his cloak and slipped out the door. The market was closing for the night, lanterns flickering as vendors packed up. Optimus moved casually, chatting with locals.
Optimus to a merchant, "Ever hear of the demon war? Any rumors from beyond the desert?" Merchant, shaking his head nervously, "There is no war. Demons? Just bedtime tales. Nothing real here, stranger."
Another vendor echoed the same. Suddenly, a guard in sleek, ornamental armor approached.
Guard, calmly, "Sir, I heard your questions. I can take you somewhere… private. Where you'll find answers."
Optimus didn't hesitate. He followed. They entered a narrow building, descending into an underground chamber. The guard gestured.
Guard: "Stand here." Without warning, the floor opened beneath Optimus. A trapdoor. But with a burst of blue light, Optimus hovered in the air mid-fall, glaring.
Optimus, grinning, "Nice try."
He launched forward, slamming the guard into the wall. Then he rocketed up the stairwell, bursting into the town center. With a thunderous clap, Optimus smashed his hands together, releasing a shockwave that rattled windows and echoed through the city.
Civilians poured into the square in panic. Ian came jogging up, still pulling on his glove.
Ian, irritated, "This was supposed to be a stealth mission, Optimus."
Optimus, shrugging, "Yeah, that didn't go great. Got dropped into a trap room."
Government officials emerged from the palace—draped in golden and crimson robes, trying to keep calm.
Official, commanding, "There is no war! There are no demons! Return to your homes at once!"
Suddenly, the sky roared. A dragon swooped in from above, wings wide, a rider on its back—Blade, standing confidently on the beast's neck.
Blade, calling out, "Yeah? Then what's that black cloud moving in from the east? Because that sure looks like a demon army."
A few townspeople gasped. One skeptical citizen stepped forward.
Citizen: "Demons aren't real."
Blade, pointing behind him"Hop on. I'll show you personally."
The dragon soared into the air with the citizen, then circled back within minutes. The crowd saw it now—dark shapes flooding over the dunes, glowing eyes, war drums in the distance.
Panic erupted. Soldiers abandoned posts, people looted stalls, and hoarded supplies.
Ian, sighing, "Well… I guess it's on us to stop them."
Blade, grinning, "Let's make it interesting—whoever slays the most demons gets first dibs on the victory meal."
Optimus, drawing his sword, energized, "Loser does dishes for a week."
Ian "You guys are ridiculous."
They charged toward the edge of town—three Greats, ready to face the incoming horde. A sandstorm brewed in the distance, kicked up by the charging demon horde.
But before the first claw could touch the city…
CRACK—ZING!
Ian and Blade launched forward like bolts of lightning, their trails of glowing Kia energy slicing through the dark. Ian's katana carved clean arcs through demons, precise and ruthless.
Blade danced between enemies, his dual swords flashing as he zipped between shadows. BOOM! Optimus landed in the middle of the army with a ground-shattering quake, swinging his massive blade in a wide arc—demons flew backward in pieces.
The battle didn't last long. Within minutes, the demon army was reduced to smoke and ash, scattered across the dunes.
As the dust settled… Blade panting "Alright, alright… I'm just saying, some of mine exploded. That should count for double."
Optimus, grinning, "I got at least two dozen more than you. Ian?"
Ian sheathing his katana "Seventy-three. Clean."
Blade: "…Cool. So I lose. Whatever."
They walked back toward the city gates as the locals cautiously peeked out.
Blade, glancing back, "So, are we gonna help them deal with their whole government-faking-reality problem?"
Ian, wiping dust off his armor, "Nah. They'll figure it out."
The trio sat on a high-rise balcony café overlooking the busy Merchant Valley below. Sky-freighters buzzed overhead, and import cranes hauled crates from incoming freighters. The city pulsed with light.
Across the table sat Ice King, swirling a frozen drink in his hand. Ice King, grinning, "Lemme guess—Blade lost the kill count again?"
Blade, mock offended, "They ganged up on me!"
Optimus: "Sure, they did."
Ian, pulling up a glowing projection of the capital map, "Enough about that. The final mission's coming up. We need to plan the bomb extraction."