Andrew nervously bit his lip, thinking about what to do. Waiting for the sandstorm to arrive alongside Sejmet seemed like a terrible idea to him. The cargo balloon was huge, and maybe, just maybe, it could withstand Sejmet's arrival, but even so, Andrew felt that Obel was making a very bad decision by not looking for another route.
"God... I hope we're not dead by the time we get to Gibraltar."
Andrew snorted and set off back to the truck that had brought him there. On the way, he ran into the group of young people around the campfire telling horror stories again, and the idea of sitting down and enjoying some leisure time with them crossed Andrew's mind.
"A little fun wouldn't be so bad, right?"
In fact, Andrew didn't see anything wrong with the idea, at least not until he remembered his current situation and decided to keep walking to his van.
"You're kidnapped and a fifth-rank creature is coming this way, how could I get so distracted!"
***
When he reached the truck, Andrew grabbed the old communication radio he had been given when he boarded the balloon, as well as the last of his protein bars from his military rations. As he got out of the car again, a strong wind pushed him back inside, causing him to scream in pain. The door handle was stuck in Andrew's back for a moment, causing him a lot of pain. Andrew took a deep breath before getting up. As he stood up and hurried out of the truck, he found himself surrounded by a sandstorm. Sejmet had arrived. Andrew could only make out warning shouts and some commands from the commanders. The sand interfered with sound and light itself. As he walked, Andrew could barely see where he was stepping. At one point, he even saw himself falling into the desert, only to find himself standing on the metal platform seconds later. Sejmet went beyond physical attacks; only those of high rank could survive this being's mental attacks.
"Oh... that's right, damn it..."
Andrew had completely forgotten. This was not an attack by Sejmet. In one of his many classes at the Maderiú Academy, Andrew learned how existence itself tries to challenge the existence of impossible beings such as creatures of rank four or higher. These creatures wield so much power that they can even affect reality itself. Reality only seeks to create a more logical environment and tries to maintain its plausibility; reality was not going to allow itself to be denied after all. Light warping and sound distortion are simply consequences of this internal struggle.
In the grand scheme of things, Andrew couldn't do much as a musician without rank, so he simply had two options. Get in the car and lock himself in until the musicians arrived and sorted out the situation, or run to the command center to talk to Obel and find out what was going on.
"What do I do!?"
Three, he hadn't actually considered despair as one. Andrew looked from side to side, wondering what to do. Lately, he had been dealing with so much pressure that he had forgotten how little experience he had in these situations; he wasn't trained for this.
So he opted for the one that could ensure him the best chance of survival. Andrew ran toward the command center, ignoring the crowd of people screaming and seeking shelter. When he reached the center, Andrew slipped between the group of people crowded at the door. Once inside, he scanned every corner of the command center until he found the old musician. Obel was sitting in the main chair, communicating with the forces of the domain.
"Obel!" Andrew shouted at the old musician.
Obel, totally focused on what was happening, frowned at Andrew's interruption.
"What's going on, kid?" the old man asked impatiently.
"What's going on? Is Sejmet here?" Andrew asked urgently, a lump forming in his throat from fear.
"No, not yet, at least. She's three kilometers from here, but her presence is already wreaking havoc," said Obel, focused on his computer screen, multiple pop-up windows appearing at once.
Andrew took a moment to think. If Sekhmet wasn't even here yet, what would await them when she arrived?
The answer was more than obvious: all or most of them would die. Perhaps Obel and the best harmonics in the group would survive, but at least 95% of the civilians would perish, including Andrew...
Andrew was important to them, but they would never choose Andrew's life over that of a harmonic. Harmonics were very scarce and necessary for combat; Obel couldn't fight alone. Andrew took a few steps back to let the group of people work on their computers. They were putting together a new plan that Andrew knew nothing about, and he had little desire to know about this new plan. Andrew left the place and untied the belt he wore around his waist to use it to cover his head from the sand. Walking back to the truck with nowhere else to go, he once again ran into the group of people, who this time had formed a kind of shelter by putting three trucks and several large blankets together. Andrew, this time allowing himself to be carried away by the idea of socializing, even if only a little, walked into the small shelter and saw the group of people sitting around the campfire. When he tried to enter, everyone there looked at him with a strange look.
"Hello... my name is Andrew. Can I stay here?" Andrew asked, trying to be as friendly as possible.
A young man with a gentle, scruffy appearance stood up and stretched out his right arm to greet Andrew.
"Yes, we'd love to have someone else!" replied the curly-haired young man.
Andrew smiled back and approached the campfire. Before sitting down with the young people, he saw a rather tall young man sitting in the back, his face covered by a cloth designed especially for the desert, with strands of blond hair sticking out carelessly. The young man was sitting in a position that radiated confidence, which did not change with Andrew's arrival. The young man kept his gaze fixed on Andrew's eyes. Andrew, nervous about that gaze, simply turned his attention to the other young people there.
"I'm sorry for the trouble, my truck is quite far away, and the sand in the back is getting deeper by the minute..." said Andrew, embarrassed.
"Don't worry, we're all refugees too. There's no need to be embarrassed. By the way, my name is Douglas," said the curly-haired boy.
"Ah... if only they knew..."
Andrew wasn't actually a refugee like those young people, so he just nodded. He preferred not to pursue the subject.
"Nice to meet you, Douglas. If I'm not mistaken, I heard you were telling stories. Could I hear one?" Andrew asked, somewhat intrigued by the stories from Portugal.
The eyes of one of the children next to Douglas lit up with excitement.
"Of course! Laredo was just telling a story about the 'Greek Mime,'" said the boy with great enthusiasm.
Laredo, one of the children in the back next to the masked young man, was a little nervous about the idea of telling his story to Andrew, who was a stranger at that moment.
"Don't worry, if you're not comfortable telling me, don't," said Andrew, trying to lighten the mood.
Young Laredo's voice became shaky, then a hand covered by a leather glove rested on Laredo's shoulder. It was the hand of the masked young man. Laredo straightened his posture and decided to tell the story.
"Who are you...?"
Andrew wondered as he kept his gaze on the young man in the mask. Something felt familiar, no, not familiar, something known. His body language was not unfamiliar to him. This man was a musician, it was more than obvious. All musicians radiated that awe-inspiring confidence, yet Andrew couldn't figure out why he was so familiar.
Then, next to him, a large instrument lay leaning against the huge rear tire of one of the trucks. The instrument was shaped like a large sword and at the same time like a guitar.
Andrew simply smiled when he discovered who the young man was.
"Well... the story of the Greek Mimic is about..."
Then little Laredo began to tell a long story about a man who managed to control all of Greece with strange magic and really clever murders, or something like that.
Andrew wasn't even focused on the story, yet he tried to listen as much as possible while his attention was divided in several directions. The first was the penetrating gaze of that masked young man, the second was more than clear.
"How the hell do I get out of this?"
The sandstorm continued to rage, the winds growing stronger and stronger, even the trucks seemed to be slowly being pushed, although this was so slow that it was barely noticeable. Andrew was really scared. Not because of the curious story of this dark-minded killer that little Laredo was telling. Rather, it was because of the fearsome sandstorm outside. Interrupting the boy's story, shouts of orders rang out from outside. Everyone fell silent, trying to hear what was happening outside.
"I want all Harmonic ready to disperse!"
Andrew quickly turned his gaze to the young blond man in the mask. Then Rodrick removed the blanket from his head and walked out of the small shelter. Andrew, eager to know what was about to unfold, got up and tried to follow Rodrick.
"Where are you going, Andrew? Only the musicians are allowed to leave the trucks!" said Douglas worriedly.
"Don't worry, I'm just going to see what's going on," replied Andrew with a slight smile.
As he stepped outside, the haze in the air severely impaired Andrew's vision. Then, a sensation made him shudder, a sensation that even touched his soul. His very existence felt guided, even manipulated... He walked urgently, guided by the trucks, until he entered the rear shelter of the cargo balloon. There, several aristocratic families were gathered in the shelter, receiving the best treatment and care.
"Ah... I don't know what I expected to find..."
Andrew walked among those people, trying not to bump into anyone, and noticed how some of them looked at him with contempt. Andrew, as he always did when he lived as Afónico, ignored the disparaging looks and continued on his way. After a while, he arrived at the place Obel had told him to take refuge. It was a simple cabin, more like a capsule. It contained a single bed and a small screen on the ceiling; there wasn't much to analyze.
Andrew just snorted and explored the shelter. It was quite far from the command center, which made him somewhat afraid. He was far from the most powerful musicians. Andrew walked until he found the shelter's dining room.
"What the hell...?"
These people even received such luxurious food in this situation. Meanwhile, Andrew had to endure eating rations for an entire week. This situation didn't seem fair to him, but what was fair in this life?
Andrew, once again, just snorted.
He walked through the corridors of the intricate shelter until he reached the large balcony. Andrew saw a man standing there.
Andrew hadn't come here by chance; something had called him. As if something were pulling his strings, he was brought here.
"You... You're that harmonious one..." Andrew said, approaching slowly. The sand in the air made it difficult to see.
This man wore desert goggles and had a full set of equipment on his back. The man turned his head and looked directly at Andrew. Andrew could feel a chilling shiver running through his blood. Fear. A fear that ran through every inch of his body. He had never felt anything like it, not even with Obel, who was supposed to be higher in rank than this man.
This man was possibly the most lethal person Andrew had ever faced...
"Defense boy..." said the man.
"You... know?"
Then, the entire balloon vibrated. Something was happening. Something really bad.
"Sejmet..."
It was here. The fifth-rank creature had arrived. Responding to its arrival, the man born of the desert looked toward the horizon, specifically in the direction where Sejmet was located. Shortly after analyzing and testing the ground, the man simply took one last look at Andrew and jumped out of the balloon.
"Hey, wait!" Andrew shouted uselessly.
Andrew ran to the pillars of the balcony and looked out toward the distant desert surface.
A sudden urge arose within Andrew; he wanted to jump, jump and follow that man. His instincts screamed at him to follow, something telling him that if he did, he would definitely get out of this alive. Andrew's hair fluttered faster and faster as the storm raged. Andrew looked up at the large balloon structure. In the distance, he could see Obel's main attack group standing on the balloon structure, waiting for the Sejmet.
"Are they really going to face him?"
It was impossible to defeat a fifth-rank creature without musicians of the same rank. To Andrew, this was illogical. Obel had lost his mind. Perhaps old age was affecting his abilities. But this idea was not important right now.
Andrew watched the distant figure of the man descending into the desert, then made his decision.
"If you sow thorns... don't expect flowers..." said Andrew, watching the distant figure of Obel on the structure of the Cargo Balloon.
Then, Andrew launched himself into the desert.
This time he was serious.