The countdown had begun. Thirty minutes after receiving the order, Kairo, Robert, and Racher stood on the teleportation platform. It was the trio's first mission as a complete team. Racher, a Rank B warrior with years of experience, was known for his efficiency on the battlefield. His presence commanded immediate respect, and both Kairo and Robert knew they now had someone of a higher level by their side.
A blue light enveloped them, and in a matter of seconds, the world changed.
When the teleportation ended, they found themselves on Graviton.
The air was thick and bitter, filled with dust and a metallic scent that clung to their throats. The sky was covered by gray clouds that barely allowed sunlight to pass through. Around them, everything looked withered. The ground was dark, as if burned and forgotten. Misshapen rocks jutted out everywhere, and in the distance, crumbling structures could be seen—like skeletons from a long-lost past.
Racher stepped forward first, eyes sharp as blades, scanning every corner.
"This is Graviton," he said in a low tone. "Or what's left of it."
He pointed to a nearby hill."The village is just beyond that ridge. I'll fill you in on the way."
As they moved along a cracked, rocky path through a land fractured by ancient quakes, Kairo couldn't help but notice how life seemed to have gone into hiding. No animals could be heard. No trees were in sight. Just rocks, dust, and ruins.
Racher walked ahead with steady steps, scanning the surroundings through his visor. Robert followed close behind, alert, while Kairo tried to keep up without showing nerves.
"How many enemies are we dealing with?" Robert asked, breaking the silence.
Racher didn't turn around, but his voice remained grave.
"We don't have an exact count, but according to the emergency report and the latest orbital scans, there are between thirty and forty bandits. All armed with blades forged from a local metal—extremely dense. It's tougher than standard steel and can slice through combat armor if it's not reinforced."
Kairo swallowed hard. These weren't just petty criminals. They were well-armed, organized, and ready to kill.
"What do we know about their structure? Leadership?" Robert asked.
"Nothing solid," Racher replied. "They move like a unit, but they don't use electronic communications, which makes them hard to track. All we know is that they control a village of about two hundred people. They killed all the defenders. Executed anyone who could fight in public. Since then, they've tripled the agricultural workload and take over eighty percent of the harvest."
"They're enslaving them," Kairo murmured.
"Exactly," Racher nodded, without emotion. "And no one came to help them—until now."
They continued through a narrow canyon until, at last, the village came into view. It was tucked between gray mountains, surrounded by neglected fields and half-ruined stone houses. Fear had clearly made its home there long ago.
Racher raised a hand to make them stop."Keep calm. No weapons for now. Let them see we come in peace."
They entered the village walking—not rushing, but with authority. Some villagers saw them from afar and hid. Others pretended not to notice, as if acknowledging the newcomers might bring punishment. No one approached. No one spoke.
"They weren't expecting us so soon," Robert commented. "They don't even know if we're here to help or to make things worse."
"They're terrified," Kairo said, watching a woman dragging a sack of grain who quickly lowered her gaze as she passed them.
Several minutes passed as they walked through the central plaza, where only the wind interrupted the heavy silence. Then, a small voice broke through the invisible wall of fear.
A child approached them cautiously. He looked around nine or ten years old. Dark-skinned, with big eyes and a scar on his right eyebrow. He wore dirty, patched clothes, but his gaze was steady.
He stopped in front of them, studying them intently. Then he spoke in his native tongue, which Kairo didn't understand at all.
"What did he say?" Kairo asked, looking at Robert.
Robert activated his translator with a slight gesture and replied,"He asked if we're from the Council."
Kairo nodded and calmly raised his hands in a gesture of affirmation.
The boy seemed to understand. His face showed a hint of relief. He stepped back and shouted something toward the nearby houses.
"They're here! The ones from the Council have arrived!" Robert translated.
Soon, murmurs began to rise from the houses. First an old woman, then some young men and women slowly emerged from their hiding places. A small group gathered around the heroes, though no one dared speak directly.
Kairo observed the looks on their faces: fear, hope… and guilt.
Then an old woman stepped forward slowly. Her face was deeply wrinkled, and her voice trembled as she spoke. She used her local dialect, which Racher translated almost immediately.
"Before we say anything… we want to apologize. To you… and to your comrades."
Robert frowned, instantly understanding.
"We didn't know them, but we're sorry for your loss," he said sincerely.
The woman nodded."They were ambushed this very morning. They died protecting our lives. We couldn't do anything. The least we could offer was a proper burial."
"I understand," Racher said seriously. "We're here to finish what they couldn't."
A man stepped forward with a raspy voice:"We buried them at the foot of the sacred tree, on the hill east of the village. We paid our respects… but we feel it wasn't enough."
Kairo lowered his head in a gesture of respect."Thank you," he said, even knowing they couldn't understand him.
Robert translated the words. Some villagers nodded. Others couldn't stop their eyes from welling with tears.
"Do you still want to help us… after what happened?" the man asked, filled with both hope and guilt.
Kairo met the gaze of the boy, who was still there, silently watching him.
"Now more than ever."