"Hahahahaha… very good."
Mihel turned toward the voice. Riche froze mid-motion, eyes snapping to the same point.
A man stepped out of the shadows.
Dark hair, neatly parted, not a strand out of place. His eyes were sharp, analysing the room and the situation.
A deep blue coat draped over him, threaded with thin lines of gold that shone in the darkness.
"So, children, why are—"
Mihel moved.
He launched forward without a word, blade low, body coiled to strike.
Riche did not hesitate. The moment Mihel charged, he turned back to Midia, twin blades biting into her chains.
The stranger shifted calmly aside. Mihel's swing cut nothing but air.
A heel slammed into Mihel's back.
He crashed into the wall, stone shuddering from the impact. Before the dust settled, Mihel pushed himself up and surged again, bringing Chamynos Fios down in a brutal overhead arc.
A flash of silver.
A blade appeared in the stranger's palm, thin and gleaming, catching Mihel's strike with effortless precision. Steel rang. Mihel feinted, stabbed low, then slashed toward the knee.
The man jumped.
His foot lashed out midair, heel smashing into Mihel's face.
Mihel staggered back, vision swimming. The wound from the Rajhu attack tore open again, blood seeping through the dark fabric of the rider outfit.
"Must you be so hostile?" the man said lightly. "I was about to explain."
Mihel bared his teeth and lunged once more.
"Halt."
The word felt like a command being etched into reality.
"One more step," the man continued, voice calm, "and your Fate will stand at death's door."
The air thickened.
Mihel felt it instantly. A crushing presence poured into the room, invisible yet overwhelming.
Destiny. Heavy. Absolute.
His knees buckled.
But they did not touch the ground.
Mihel trembled, muscles screaming, yet he stayed upright. He had felt greater pressure before. He had faced something far stronger.
Gritting his teeth, he turned his head.
Riche was on one knee, barely conscious, shaking as he forced himself to shield Midia's limp body.
Her chains lay shattered, but she was out cold, unmoving.
Mihel tightened his grip on his sword.
'This man isn't a Rajhu.'
Mihel's thoughts raced. 'He's too refined. Too clean. And he doesn't speak like someone born to sand and heat.'
'Then who was he? And why was he here?'
The stranger's lips curved as he studied Mihel's bruised face.
"Allow me to introduce myself," he said. "Vidoria Kidt. Second Decurion of the Seventh Cohort of the Exousia."
The name struck harder than any blow.
His gaze slid to Riche. "You, the blond one, must be Riche Malant. And you…" His eyes returned to Mihel. "Mihel Westrow."
Mihel's grip tightened.
"I had certain expectations of the top prospects," Vidoria continued calmly. "And I must say, you came… close to meeting them."
'Exousia?'
Mihel's stomach twisted. 'Then this place… it's under the government?'
'Why would the Rajhu hide a prisoner here?'
"Take the girl back to your train," Vidoria said, already turning away. "Its operations will resume shortly. She was not harmed, so you needn't worry."
He paused, then added without looking back, "We will meet again."
Vidoria inclined his head in a shallow bow and began to walk toward the exit.
Mihel forced the pressure from his lungs and spoke.
"Tell me this atleast. Why did the train stop? Why did the Rajhu attack us? Are you also responsible for that?"
Vidoria stopped.
He turned, smiling faintly.
"It was to see," he said. "Salutis Exousia, my friend."
And then he was gone, his presence draining from the room as suddenly as it had arrived.
"Phew…" Mihel let out a long breath.
Riche was stirring now, colour slowly returning to his face. Mihel sheathed his sword and walked over just as Riche's eyes fluttered open.
He blinked, taking in the room, still dazed.
"Who… who was that man?" Riche muttered. "What happened?"
"An officer of the Exousia," Mihel said. "He told us to return to the Engine."
Riche nodded weakly, then his gaze dropped. Blood was seeping through Mihel's clothes, dark and steady. Dripping onto the floor.
"Mihel, you're bleeding badly."
"I'll make it back," Mihel replied. "That's enough." Though he didn't sound that convinced.
Midia groaned softly and pushed herself upright. Her eyes widened, then focused as she saw them.
"Mihel… Riche… thank you," she said between coughs. "For coming for me."
She took a few unsteady steps forward, then stopped and bowed deeply.
"I'm sorry I got captured. Please forgive me."
Riche placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice gentle. "It's fine. You're safe now. Let's get back to the Engine."
They left the smaller building, retraced their steps to Wall Two, and climbed the sandy barrier. From there, they followed the same trail back into the desert.
As they walked, Midia told them how the riders had taken her, and how strangely restrained they'd been. No blows. No threats. As if hurting her had never been the point.
Nearly three hours later, the Engine loomed into view.
They stumbled into Compartment Twelve to find Vinelyn and Halise waiting, faces tight with worry.
Mihel collapsed onto the bed the moment he stepped inside.
"Water…" he groaned. Vinelyn took out a flask and handed it to him.
Halise rushed to Midia's side, relief flooding her face, while Riche stood in the centre of the compartment and recounted everything that had happened.
"The Exousia?" Vinelyn said, stunned. "You're telling me they attacked the Engine?"
"We don't know that," Riche replied. "Only that Vidoria was an Exousia officer."
Vinelyn exhaled, rubbing a hand through his white hair. "Whatever the truth is, we got Midia back. That's what matters."
They nodded in agreement.
Then Mihel coughed.
Blood splattered across the sheets.
Halise was on him instantly, cleaning the wound and tying it tighter, her hands shaking despite her composure.
Suddenly, a voice echoed from the overhead speaker.
"The Engine has returned to operational condition. We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience."
With a low rumble, the Engine began to move once more, carrying them toward the Exousia branch.
'At least we'll reach it now,' Riche thought. 'Hopefully.'
Mihel had already passed out again. Halise and Midia spoke in hushed whispers in one corner, their relief fragile and tired.
Riche sat by the window, watching the dunes slide past, sand bending and reshaping under the wind.
His eyes drifted back to Mihel.
'I wonder how heavy his Destiny situation feels,' he thought. 'He never shows it, but it must be crushing him.'
Riche looked down at his hands.
'I need to get stronger. Strong enough to protect all of them.'
The desert continued its silent march outside, and somewhere between thought and exhaustion, Riche's eyes finally closed.