Beating meat

"Good evening… Actually, it's midnight."

0:27 AM.

"Forget about it. The thing is, I got captured by the native because the bio-scanner got interfered with; note that. Well, they try to interrogate me. The first rule of lying is to mix some of the truth into it. That's how I got beat up by the chonky guy holding a bat; spoiler alert, it hurt as fuck. Anyway, I'll keep in touch. Jackals out."

END OF MONOLOUGE

"Recorded, Jackals." Said the only voice in his head that kept him awake.

He was being restrained in a chain that was so surprisingly durable that even the man here who set the record for deadlifting three humvees with nothing but sheer strength struggled to tear it apart. It was strange.

"Examination complete, Jackals. Your nervous system, especially their capability to open and close the sodium and calcium gates, is being limited; therefore, some of them might not reach their action potential. That is the reason why you've weakened. I try to create a new shortcut for them, but that's all I can do for you…I'm sorry."

The apologies from the voice came with a shaky voice and digital noise. They have never been in this desperate situation 'together' before. Lock in a torture dungeon with a mossy stone wall, floor, and celling. But there's also a one-and-only light source for him, which came from a 3-inch window, yet is still foiled by the rusty iron bar.

"Don't sweat about it, love. At least you've already done something."

He still keeps his laid-back smile. Even in the hard times—or is it?

[squeeks~~~]

The sound of the door hinge, which seems like it's not being oil let out a high pitch. Jackals glares with no emotion written on his face other than being skeptical of the shadowy intruder. The brownish coat, the unshaven face, the black hair, and a long ass feather with a white stripe behind his ear.

"So you might be Jackals, the man 'above' the sky, I suppose?" The arrivaler came with men carrying a chair and a wooden table. They place it before the jackals. The arrivaler sits on the opposite side of the dusty furniture, elbows on top.

"And...who the fuck are you…sir?" Jackals speaks with a mocking, relaxed demeanor.

"You should keep your word. It might make you more attractive, maybe. The name is Rovette Ruiz. I am the chief of this Outpost."

The man smirked and raised both hands as he introduced himself.

"Oh yeah? Outpost it is, then. Rovette, right? I have a question: do you have any drinks? Because clearly the wooden club isn't quite the right way of treating visitors, if I do say so myself."

Jackals still tries to get on someone's nerve as if he has a plan.

"Torment is my follower's idea. I have nothing to do with it."

Rovette leaves the gap between each sentence, letting Jackals raise his eyebrows in curiosity.

The silence broke as the chief brought something to the table. It's the necklace Jackals gave Caelix as his apology. The shard of the fractured obsidian blade, in a pair of ten threads together by a fine handmade leather strip, Eyes widen in surprise, and Jackals speaks in murmur to the man in front of him, his face slowly shifting back into the small mocking smirk he always has, like a factory reset button.

"Giving your own gift to another person—how rude she is, ain't it?" Jackals stare at Rovette with his sleepless eyes, like he gives him a hint of getting to the point.

"Indeed, but I'm here to ask you a few questions." Rovette put his hand thread together; at this point, he should have that bright reflecting glass on his face, but unfortunately, this isn't pop culture, so he didn't have one.

"Come on, man, I spill everything." with a curve on his mouth in the calmest manner of Jackals.

Rovette took one step back from getting too close to the truth, maybe he want to answer his own question first. Is this enigmatic individual will pose threat to the Outpost or not? If he is, then why did he spare Caelix and let her see his camp before leaving? When hunters are captured, they are usually tortured to death or sold as slaves in another region. It's the way of this world. He thinks before let out a tongue.

 [Crank] [Thud] The sound of lock slam on the ground.

Jackals suddenly feels the chain that locks him to the moldy chair loosen up. Two of the Rovette men uncuffed him. Well, 14 hours of torment is a horrifying experience if the man here isn't Not Your Average Infantryman. It just makes the man furious.

Rovette looks at the man who hinds his anger inside a smiley face, invitationally. Jackals followed the man upstairs out of the dungeon while also being escorted by two other guys. Surprise as he regains his strength in a second, but he still plays it cool and doesn't make a sudden move.

It's the first floor of the watchtower that Caelix came to one or two days ago. It's still dark outside, with a cold wind whispering through the wide open door. A bulky pair of guys walked out by the door, leaving those two in privacy. Jackals looks to his left; there's a wooden table made out of planks, full of cuts and scars on the surface, as if someone brutally beat this poor table with a knife every day. Look to his right; there is a dusty chair stacking up in the corner of the room, opposite from the entrance. Without permission, Jackals drags one out in front of the Rovette and sits down.

"Alright, I made up my mind. You wanna know me better? I'll tell you," said with a sly face.

In wonder look of Rovette eyes, it is a... "Yep...please elaborate further." The man with a giant feather behind his ears nodded in approval.

"So, the name is Jackals; you should know it by now. I am...no, we are the wandering mercenary group called RHA, trying to help our people from starvation." Jackals explain in rapid words, like a script.

"From where?" The chief asked in curiosity.

"You don't need to know." The mood shifted, but Jackals still keeping his smile, just the difference one.

Swallow hard as if Rovette felt the cold metal pressing against his throat. "Okay, and why are you interested in this region, Silvagon?"

"This woods? No, we are lost. Do you think we had a clue when we were falling from the sky?" Back to the smirk and salty word, said Jackals.

After receiving the desired answer, Rovette decided that it's enough, as he felt the densening in the air and the pressure emanating from the man who sat in front of him. He also sweated a bit from an unknown cause.

"By the way." Caught by surprise, Rovette turned his face to Jackals.

"yes?" The chief said.

"Where is my shit? Also, I need a place to keep my eyes shut because some fucker brought me here and beat me with the stick for 14 hours non-stop. and the only thing I get is one apology from a so-called chief." He spoke in a mocking tone with a somewhat intimidating smile. His accent changed.

Understandable rage from this man, and as he demands, Rovette scratch his head, dilemma.

"Calm down, mister. As for your belongings, they're on the second floor, and you can also rest here in the dining room; we won't have any guests soon. Follow me."

He brings Jackals to the second floor, where he will fine the unfamiliar on the door. Using a logical translator, he decodes the message, latter by latter. The yellow square floats above the sign [Dining Quarter]. Sitting there for quite some time, Rovette came back with a rucksack of Jackals. Without waiting any further, he checked his stuff to see if anything was lost or not.

Thus, as situation was settled. Jackals locks the door, and even though it is not the good visitor's behavior, he sets a simple alarm with one pistol round, a sewing needle, and a PE fishing string. Slam the heavy bag on the ground, [Rumble] and he drop his head against the rubbery fabric.

"What a day! Elysia, could you keep your eyes up while I'm sleeping? Thank you."

Receiving order Elysia gladly doing as he want. Even if it is least she can offer.

"Okay, Jackals." The monotonous speech with the hit of worries and relief.

The man's body limbs like a machine being shutdown, and after a few minutes, his left eyes opened wide, rolling up down left right every few seconds.

.

.

.

Shifter and how it works: by simplifying the three dimensional spaces into a flat plain, we can now imagine the past space, the present space, and the future space all stacking up in order from top to bottom. Now picture this: the space that contains a cup of coffee. We're going to call her Caffeina.

Caffeina wants to go to another place that is in the same space as hers, but the place is too far. How could she do it? With the use of Shifter, she jumped into the fourth dimensional space. Where is she now? She was still in the same spot as she was a moment ago. Why? Because she didn't move a muscle.

Now she's in the fourth dimensional space—temporary, of course. Every movement she makes will change the location, time, and gravity of the place she'll be in the next few moments. By utilizing the complex algorithm, she now has the computer navigator to point out every turn, every movement, and every position she will have to achieve, like following a GPS.

Up, down, left, right, shrinking, inflating, forward, and backward—this is all the movement she can use in that fourth dimensional word. Now, after following the instructions of the computer, she's now being kicked out of "The Blank" for good and has also reached her favorite coffee shop.