Roly woke up on a fog-covered beach, the sea waves lapping against his exhausted body, and the sound of the waves echoed in his ears like the pulse of a dying heart.
He raised his head with difficulty, breathing slowly, trying to comprehend what had happened. The sand was damp, and blood still stained his hand.
He fumbled for his pistol… but Milo was nowhere to be found.
He looked around with wide eyes:
— "Milo… Miloooo!"
No answer came, only the sound of the waves.
Before he could fully stand, a strange man appeared from the trees.
He was tall, his body covered in old scars, carrying a massive axe that radiated a strange energy.
He stared at Roly without saying a word.
Roly quickly grabbed his pistol and aimed at him, but the man smiled faintly and merely waved his axe—one strike was enough to split the pistol in half.
Roly stumbled backward, stunned, sensing a faint energy emanating from the axe.
The man approached slowly and asked in a rough voice:
— "Which country are you from?"
Roly: "I… I'm from Altira."
The man replied with deadly calm:
— "Altira?… Your country is under occupation now?"
Roly's breath caught.
— "What did you say?"
— "You were fighting against the Crimson Fang army, weren't you?"
Roly's body trembled, cold sweat dripping down his face:
— "Yes… but how did you know?"
The man raised his axe and pointed at the shattered pistol on the ground.
— "There was a red mark on your pistol… like the one on your friend's body."
— "My friend? Milo?!"
The man smiled faintly and said:
— "Don't worry, we removed the mark when I destroyed your weapon. I am Golit, one of the fighters of a small country called Vilnara."
Roly: "Vilnara…?"
— "Follow me; you'll get your answers there."
Roly followed the man along a foggy path until they reached a small village in the forest, wooden houses surrounded by tall trees, and the scent of fire filled the air.
When he entered one of the huts, he froze in place.
Milo was there, sitting at a dining table, eating ravenously.
He raised his head with a smile:
— "So you survived, you unlucky son of a gun!"
Roly: "Milo…! When did you arrive? We were on the same boat!"
Milo laughed and said:
— "After the tsunami, I woke up on this island. Golit found me trying to fight him with my pistol… and he destroyed it too!"
The two laughed softly, but Golit's gaze remained sharp.
— "I want to understand one thing…" Golit said, staring at them:
"How did you two get here together, yet your friend arrived on the island before you?"
Before they could answer, the hut suddenly shook.
A massive aura filled the place, making the air heavy as if it were fire.
Golit shouted:
— "Damn it! They were watching us! You are the bait!"
He grabbed Roly's military uniform, tore it apart, and threw it into the fire.
— Golit: "No one leaves this house! Understood?!"
Golit rushed out with several of his men, leaving Milo and Roly in tense silence.
Roly sat on the floor, staring at the dancing flames, speaking bitterly:
— "Is it my fate to always be the unlucky one?"
Milo laughed, patting his shoulder:
— "At least you didn't die yet."
Suddenly, the hut door burst open.
A figure in a black cloak stood before them.
He stepped forward slowly, grabbed Milo's head, and pressed a knife to his neck.
— "You're from another country… aren't you?"
His voice was cold as ice.
He raised his hand and pulled his cloak from his face—
And the chapter ended here,
the shadows concealing his mysterious features.
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