Chapter 112

Chapter 112

Leonard stepped out of the tavern, accompanied by a Resh-1 operator. Both had changed their clothes, now dressed in leather tunics. The night was dark, and the city was lit only by the occasional flicker of torch flames. The two walked in silence, not exchanging a word. Leonard glanced up at the roof of a nearby building and caught sight of another Resh-1 operator watching them before fading back into the shadows. 

After half an hour of walking, they arrived at the meeting point.

They stood quietly outside the Laughing Boar, the soft creaking of its wooden sign swaying in the breeze the only sound breaking the silence. After a brief nod between them, Leonard and the Resh-1 operator stepped forward and pushed the door open.

The tavern was lively, almost bursting at the seams. Smoke drifted lazily through the air, mingling with the scent of roasted meat and spilled ale. Laughter and the clatter of mugs against wood filled the space as locals crowded around worn tables, locked in card games or loud stories about hunts and brawls.

Leonard's boots echoed faintly as he and his companion strode across the uneven floorboards, making their way toward the counter. Behind it stood a thick-shouldered man with a greying beard and a leather apron stained from years of spilled drinks. He was in the middle of pouring a cloudy golden liquor into a heavy mug when he spotted them approaching. His eyes narrowed.

The operator stepped forward without hesitation. "I'd like two glasses of Saint-Paul Jacks."

There was a pause.

The barman's jovial expression vanished. His gaze hardened, and his hand stopped mid-pour. With a grunt, he jerked his thumb toward a door behind him. "Go fetch 'em yourself. They're in the back."

Leonard exchanged a meaningful glance with the operator. No words were needed. They stepped around the counter and moved toward the door.

They stepped into a dimly lit storage room, the heavy scent of oak and spirits clinging to the air. Wooden barrels, some nearly as tall as a man, lined the stone walls. At the far end, a man was carefully filling bottles from a spigot jutting out of one of the larger casks. He looked up as they entered and offered a casual smile.

"Gentlemen, can I help you?" he asked, wiping his hands on a rag slung over his belt.

Leonard stepped forward. "Yeah. We're here to pick up two glasses of Saint-Paul Jacks. The barkeep said we should get them from back here."

The man's expression shifted ever so slightly. His smile faded into something more serious, and he set the bottle down gently on the table beside him.

"Did you make sure you weren't followed?" he asked, voice low and steady.

Leonard blinked, caught off guard by the question. Before he could reply, the Resh-1 operator stepped in smoothly. "We weren't followed."

The man studied them for a heartbeat longer, then gave a firm nod of approval. "Go down to the basement. Knock on the third barrel to your right and say, loud and clear: 'When night falls, shadows rule.'"

Leonard inclined his head respectfully. "Thank you."

They made their way down the narrow stone steps, the air growing cooler and heavier with each step. The faint creak of wood and the distant muffled sounds of the tavern faded behind them.

As they descended, Leonard couldn't help but recall the question the man had asked. Were they followed? The image of Resh-1 operatives trailing from the rooftops, silent and unseen, flickered in his mind. He smirked to himself.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, their boots echoing softly against the damp stone floor. The basement stretched out in both directions, the walls lined with over two dozen enormous barrels stacked neatly along the edges, each one sealed with thick iron hoops and worn from years of use.

Without hesitation, the operator walked to the third barrel on the right. He gave it three precise knocks, then said clearly, "When night falls, shadows rule."

There was a beat of silence. Then, with a faint click and a low hiss, the front of the barrel creaked open, swinging outward like a hidden door. From the darkness beyond, a hooded figure slowly emerged, only his eyes visible beneath the shadow of his cowl. His gaze swept over them like a blade, slow and piercing, analyzing every detail, every breath, every movement.

Leonard felt those eyes weigh him, strip him bare.

Then, the figure gave a slow nod and motioned them forward with his hand.

Leonard and the operator exchanged a silent glance, calm, calculated, ready. One after the other, they stepped through the threshold of the hollowed-out barrel. As Leonard passed through, he felt the sudden shift in pressure, like walking into a different world. The barrel-door creaked shut behind them with a heavy thud, sealing off the world above.

The hooded man stood in front of them for a moment, silent, unreadable. Then, wordlessly, he turned his back and descended a narrow staircase carved directly into the stone. It spiraled downward, lit only by torches flickering in iron brackets.

The passage was tight, the air dry and old, filled with the scent of dust and forgotten things.

The Resh-1 operator moved first, his hand near the concealed weapon under his clothes, body tense, every step measured. Leonard followed close behind, his eyes gleaming faintly in the half-light, curiosity swirling in his expression.

They descended the spiral staircase, the faint glow of a torch flickering every few turns, casting long, twisting shadows along the stone walls. The air grew thicker the deeper they went, carrying with it the earthy scent of dampness and old wood.

Finally, a soft light appeared ahead, breaking the oppressive darkness. The steps led them into a large underground hall, its vastness catching both Leonard and the operator off guard.

The room was filled with people, dozens of them, scattered across the space. Most were clad in tattered clothing, their faces drawn with exhaustion and weariness. They stood in hushed clusters, all facing a wooden platform at the far end of the hall.

On the platform stood two men draped in long robes, their dark fabric adorned with faint, intricate patterns that seemed to shimmer under the dim torchlight. They stood with their backs to a high, uneven stone wall, exuding an air of quiet authority. Along the perimeter of the hall, more robed figures were stationed, their faces hidden, their presence deliberate and watchful.

The hooded man who had escorted them stopped at the bottom of the staircase and turned to face Leonard and the operator. With a polite but curt gesture, he motioned for them to stay where they were.

"Wait here," he said simply, his voice calm yet firm. Without another word, he ascended the stairs, leaving them alone in the company of the gathered crowd.

Leonard and the operator exchanged glances, their mutual unease unspoken but evident.

Leaning slightly toward the operator, Leonard whispered, his voice low and sharp, "I'm already starting to regret coming here. This feels more like a cult than a group of revolutionaries."

The operator shifted subtly, his eyes scanning the room, lingering briefly on the robed figures near the walls. He tilted his head toward Leonard and murmured, "Boss, stay close to me. If things go south, we'll retreat and regroup with the vice-commander."

Leonard sighed, his shoulders tensing. "Understood. Let's just observe for now and see how this unfolds."

Several long minutes dragged on, the dull murmur of the crowd becoming a monotonous hum that threatened to lull Leonard to sleep. He stifled a yawn, leaned toward the operator, and whispered in English, his tone tinged with dry humor, "Tell me your stories from your ops under my assistant before I arrived at Site-01. I'm starting to nod off."

The operator blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the odd request. His eyes darted around the room before he leaned in closer and responded, his voice cautious, "Boss, are you sure? We're in unknown territory, surrounded by strangers."

Leonard waved his hand dismissively, cutting him off. "Yes, I'm sure. Now spill it."

The operator let out a resigned sigh, shaking his head slightly as he complied. "Alright, fine. A few weeks ago, TA-A ordered us to infiltrate the Norfolk Naval Base."

Leonard arched a brow, intrigued. "Norfolk? As in the biggest naval base in the world?"

The operator nodded. "Exactly. Located in Norfolk, Virginia, it's the home port for the US Navy's Atlantic Fleet, carrier strike groups, destroyers, nuclear submarines, you name it. It's also the headquarters of NATO's Allied Command Transformation. In other words, a strategic linchpin for global military operations."

Leonard let out a low whistle. "Sounds like a nightmare. What was the objective?"

The operator continued, his voice steady and precise. "Our mission was to infiltrate the Second Fleet and gain covert control by applying Geas to the fleet's highest-ranking officers and ship captains. With that level of influence, we'd have the means to deploy nuclear weapons and a formidable naval force along the Atlantic if needed, without anyone suspecting a thing."

Leonard's brow furrowed as he absorbed the scale of the mission. "That's… ambitious. So, how did it turn out?"

The operator allowed himself a small smirk. "Flawlessly. We slipped into the base unnoticed, subjected every key officer to a Geas, and even embedded a covert Task Force under the guise of 'hired consultants', aided by some creative hacking and the… voluntary assistance of the base's leadership."

Leonard chuckled, though curiosity soon got the better of him. "Hold on a second. You mentioned a Geas. What is that, exactly?"

The operator nodded, clearly expecting the question. "Geas are memetic commands placed on individuals. Modern Geas tech allows people to create and follow subconscious binding contracts, fostering cooperation between individuals or groups without resistance."

Leonard leaned in, fascinated. "Give me an example."

"Think of the genie in Aladdin," the operator replied. "He's like a Level 4 Reality Bender, but he's bound by the rules of three wishes and the lamp. Those constraints? They're essentially a Geas."

Leonard let out a low hum of understanding. "Interesting. I can see how that would be invaluable for ensuring loyalty. But… are you telling me you're under one too?"

The operator smirked. "Of course. Every Resh-1 operative is. Our Geas ensures we can't leak intel to an enemy, even under duress. It also shields us from mind readers, containing a powerful memetic kill switch embedded within."

Leonard tilted his head thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it, I think I read something about this in the Third Law canon. Tau-5 was mentioned in passing."

The operator narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, Boss?"

"Nothing," Leonard replied quickly, his tone evasive. "Forget I said anything."

Before the operator could press further, movement on the platform caught their attention. Both men instinctively straightened, their focus shifting back to the robed figures as the crowd began to stir.

The room fell silent as the robed man ascended the wooden platform, his movements deliberate and commanding. Two armed guards flanked him, their faces obscured beneath shadowy hoods. His presence alone was enough to draw the full attention of the gathered crowd, their hushed whispers dying out as he stepped to the center of the stage.

He paused, scanning the sea of ragged faces with eyes that seemed to burn with a fervent intensity. When he finally spoke, his voice was sharp and resonant, cutting through the air like a blade.

"Brothers! Sisters! Tonight, we gather not as cowards cowering in the dark but as warriors on the brink of liberation!"

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. The man raised a gloved hand, silencing them before continuing, his voice swelling with righteous anger.

"For too long, the nobles of this cursed kingdom have feasted on the blood of our labor, growing fat while we starve! They sit in their golden halls, surrounded by decadence, while your children waste away, their bellies empty, their futures stolen!"

His words struck a nerve. The crowd began to stir, their anger bubbling to the surface.

"And the Church!" the man spat, his voice dripping with venom. "The supposed shepherds of our souls! They preach of humility and obedience while hoarding wealth that could save entire villages! They demand your tithes, your servitude, and in return, they bless the very chains that bind you!"

The crowd roared in agreement now, fists rising into the air. Leonard watched from the shadows, his expression neutral but his mind alert.

"The nobles and the Church," the speaker continued, his voice now a thunderous roar, "are two heads of the same beast, a beast that has devoured our land, our freedom, and our dignity. But I say enough! We will no longer scrape and bow! We will no longer suffer in silence!"

He stepped forward, raising both arms as if to embrace the crowd. "We are not slaves! We are not beasts of burden! We are men and women of flesh and blood, of fire and spirit! And tonight, we ignite that fire! Tonight, we take the first step toward breaking the chains of oppression and reclaiming what is ours!"

The room erupted into cheers and shouts, the fervor almost tangible. The man held his arms aloft for a moment longer before lowering them, his voice dropping to a simmering growl that demanded attention.

"They call us criminals. Heretics. Traitors." He paused, his lips curling into a bitter smile. "Let them. For it is better to die standing than to live kneeling. The time for talk has passed. The time for revolution is now!"

The crowd's response was deafening, their cheers echoing off the stone walls. Leonard exchanged a quick glance with the operator at his side, who was now visibly tense.

The man on stage took a step back, his fiery gaze sweeping the crowd once more. "Prepare yourselves, my brothers and sisters. The storm is coming, and we will be its thunder." 

"Tonight, we take this city from that damned duke! We will storm the garrison and, "

BOOM.

A deafening explosion shook the underground chamber violently. The wooden platform splintered, and the crowd erupted in chaos. Leonard staggered, nearly toppling over, but the operator at his side grabbed his arm, steadying him. In one swift motion, the operator unslung his MP7, scanning the room with precision.

Before anyone could react further, a robed figure came stumbling down the spiral staircase, panic etched on his face. "Enemy attack!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the chaos.

CRACK.

A sharp gunshot rang out, and the man's head snapped back as a bullet pierced his skull. His lifeless body crumpled to the floor, blood pooling beneath him. Behind him, four armed men descended the stairs, their weapons sweeping the room. They wore leather tunics and moved with the practiced precision of modern trained soldiers.

Leonard recognized them immediately: the operators of Resh-1.

One of them barked a command, his voice cutting through the chaos. "BOSS, WE NEED TO EVAC NOW!"

Before Leonard could respond, the hall descended into further mayhem. Several individuals from the crowd drew swords and spears, their faces twisted in desperation and rage. They surged toward the operators, weapons raised.

The Resh-1 team didn't hesitate. Their submachine guns erupted in a hail of gunfire, cutting down anyone who dared to approach. Bullets tore through the air, striking their targets with brutal efficiency. Screams filled the chamber as bodies hit the ground, the smell of gunpowder mixing with the metallic tang of blood.

"Move! Clear the way!" one of the operators shouted, his voice sharp and commanding. He led the charge toward the stairs, carving a path through the panicked crowd. Leonard followed close behind, his heart pounding as adrenaline surged through his veins.

As the last of the team ascended, one operator paused at the bottom of the stairs. Reaching into his belt, he pulled out a grenade, yanked the pin, and tossed it into the chamber.

The explosion sent a shockwave through the narrow staircase as the operator darted up the steps, debris and shrapnel raining down behind him.

The team hurried up the spiral staircase, the echoes of gunfire and screams from below still fresh in Leonard's ears. Dust and debris fell around them, the air thick with smoke and the acrid tang of gunpowder.

Leonard glanced over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the operator at the rear, weapon raised, covering their retreat. The stairwell was narrow, forcing them to move single file. The dim light of their torches cast long, flickering shadows on the stone walls.

As they climbed, Leonard spoke urgently. "Report the situation, now!"

One of the operators ahead of him, panting but focused, turned slightly and replied. "The area's completely surrounded, sir. Isleen forces hit us by surprise, winged cavalry came straight from the skies and broke through our defenses. But we've managed to hold them at bay so far."

Leonard's brow furrowed. "Winged cavalry? How did they find us so quickly?"

"We're still piecing that together," the operator replied. "The initial strike came from above. They must've been tracking the delisistes, or they should have a damn good observer among them who tracked our aura. The explosion you heard was the vice-commander, it's chaos up there, but he's holding the line."

Leonard glanced at the operator following close behind him. "What's our status down below?"

The rear operator's voice was calm, despite the urgency of the situation. "The delisistes are in disarray. Most are unarmed or lightly equipped, swords, spears, nothing serious. Anyone who tried to stop us has been neutralized."

Leonard nodded, though unease gnawed at him. "And casualties?"

"None," the first operator replied.

Leonard exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I should have listened to Alexei. And now we're in the middle of a damned battlefield."

The operator behind him responded firmly. "Boss, regrets can wait. We need to get topside, regroup with the vice-commander, and extract. This place is a death trap."

Leonard smirked grimly, his adrenaline masking any fear. "Agreed. Lead the way, and keep your eyes sharp. If those winged bastards try to cut us off in the streets, we'll need to act fast."

The operators exchanged curt nods and tightened their formation. They continued their ascent, their movements swift and disciplined, knowing that every second counted. The sound of distant explosions and clashing steel grew louder as they neared the surface.

They emerged from the staircase into the open air, Leonard shielding his face from a gust of ash and smoke. The scene before him was one of devastation. Splintered wooden beams, shards of stone, and shattered furniture littered the ground. Among the debris were bodies, some in leather tunics, others in ornate armor, their blood pooling in the dirt.

Leonard surveyed the wreckage, his brow furrowed. "Wait," he said, glancing at the operators around him. "Wasn't this supposed to be a basement?"

One of the operators nodded, reloading his weapon as he scanned their surroundings. "It was. But the vice-commander decided to expedite our entry by leveling the whole building."

Leonard blinked, momentarily stunned. "Oh," was all he managed to say.

The team clambered over the debris, their boots crunching on shattered stone and splintered wood. As they reached the top, the chaos of the battle unfolded before them.

Four more operators from Resh-1 were engaged in the street below, fighting off waves of enemy combatants. One was wielding a blazing thaumaturgic whip, its crackling energy leaving arcs of searing light in the air. Another fought with a pair of combat knives, his movements precise and lethal, dispatching enemies with surgical efficiency. The other two provided cover fire, their weapons barking as they held back the advancing tide.

Above them, the night sky was lit with flashes of magical energy. Alexei hovered midair, his silhouette stark against the moonlight as he unleashed spell after spell. Bright streaks of fire and lightning shot from his hands, striking down winged cavalry and their airborne mounts. The cries of dying beasts and the shouts of soldiers filled the air, blending with the crackling of flames and the distant rumble of explosions.

The operators on the ground spotted Leonard and the others cresting the rubble. Relief flickered across their faces, but they didn't falter in their defense.

Leonard cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted over the cacophony. "WE CAN'T HOLD THIS POSITION! WE NEED TO EVACUATE THE CITY, NOW!"

One of the operators on the street, drenched in sweat and blood, turned briefly to acknowledge him with a nod before returning to the fray. Another called out, "A CLEAR PATH IS THERE! WE CAN RENDEZVOUS OUTSIDE THE WALLS!"

Leonard looked at the operator closest to him and barked an order. "Get a signal to Alexei! We need him to cover our retreat!"

Suddenly, a group of fighters wielding spears rounded a corner and charged at them, shouting war cries that echoed off the debris-strewn streets. Without hesitation, three operators from Resh-1 stepped forward, raising their hands. Bright arcs of lightning leapt from their palms, crackling through the air and striking the charging fighters. The thunderous impact left the enemies convulsing on the ground, lifeless.

Leonard took a deep breath, steadying himself amidst the chaos. He closed his eyes briefly, recalling the map of the city he'd studied earlier. With a mental image of the streets and alleys forming in his mind, he quickly formulated a plan.

"Alright, listen up!" Leonard barked, his voice cutting through the din of battle. "If we sprint, we can make it to the city walls quickly. But we're on foot and exposed. How fast can you run?"

One of the operators smirked, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Eighty kilometers per hour."

Leonard froze, his brain momentarily stalling. "What?!"

The operator chuckled. "All Resh-1 operators are genetically enhanced through anomalous drugs and surgical procedures. We can easily hit one hundred kilometers per hour at full sprint when we're not weighed down by gear. Honestly, we've been holding back to match your pace!"

Leonard stared at him, dumbfounded. "…You're kidding, right?"

The operator's grin widened. "Not at all, Boss."

Before Leonard could respond, the operator added quickly, "But with your mastery of the demon mode, you can run just as fast now. So, no excuses."

Leonard's jaw tightened, and he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "I swear, every time I think I've seen it all with you people…" He let out a sigh and straightened. "Fine. Let's use this insane speed of yours to get out of here. Form up and prepare to move. Alexei can cover us from above, and we'll cut through to the eastern gate."

The operators nodded, their expressions sharpening as they prepared for the sprint. Leonard flexed his hands, feeling the surge of energy from his demon mode ripple through his body. He could feel his muscles coil like springs, ready to launch him forward at an inhuman speed.

"On my mark," Leonard said, taking his position. Tattoos started to cover his body. "We move fast, stay together, and don't stop for anything. Let's go!"

With that, the group burst into motion, a blur of speed and precision tearing through the battlefield toward their escape.

The group burst into the streets with inhuman speed, their movements creating shockwaves that kicked up dust and debris in their wake. Leonard, empowered by the demonic energy of his mode, now matched the blistering pace of Resh-1. Stone walls and ruined buildings blurred as they streaked through the narrow alleys, moving faster than any ordinary human could comprehend.

"Contact, right!" an operator shouted as a patrol of enemy soldiers emerged from a street corner. Their cries of alarm barely had time to echo before Resh-1 acted with precision and deadly efficiency.

The lead operator drew a short blade in one fluid motion and launched forward, slashing down two soldiers before they could even lift their weapons. Another operator veered left, planting a punch so forceful in an enemy's chest that his armor shattered like glass. Leonard pivoted, narrowly dodging a thrusting spear with supernatural agility, before grabbing the soldier who had wielded it and slamming him into the ground with a bone-crushing force.

They continued their blitz through the city, leaving behind a trail of broken bodies and weapons. Each operator moved like a shadow, their strikes swift and deadly. Blades flashed in the dim torchlight, blood sprayed across the cobblestones, and muffled cries were silenced in seconds.

One enemy fighter managed to close the distance, swinging a heavy axe toward Leonard's back. Before the blade could land, an operator appeared behind the assailant, plunging a knife into his neck in a single fluid motion before vanishing back into formation. Leonard's eyes glowed faintly as he glanced back in gratitude, though he had already turned his focus to the next threat.

Above them, Alexei rained chaos upon the enemy's airborne cavalry. Streams of fiery projectiles and bolts of arcane energy streaked through the night sky, tearing into winged mounts and armored riders. The air was thick with the stench of burnt feathers and flesh as charred bodies plummeted to the streets below.

"Left turn ahead!" barked another operator. The group pivoted as one, their formation flawless despite the breakneck speed. A group of enemy pikemen blocked the way ahead, their spears braced in a defensive line.

Without hesitation, one of the operators extended his hand, and an arc of lightning crackled from his palm, jumping from one spear tip to the next. The soldiers convulsed violently before collapsing in smoking heaps, clearing the way for the team to barrel through without slowing.

"More incoming!" shouted another voice as a new wave of infantry emerged from an alleyway to their left. The operatives responded instantly: one hurled a compact grenade into the group, the explosion ripping through their ranks as shrapnel ricocheted off the stone walls. Leonard dashed into the chaos, delivering a flurry of blows enhanced by his demonic strength, each strike sending enemies sprawling or crushing their weapons to splinters.

The chaos escalated as they neared their destination. Fire lit the sky as Alexei unleashed another devastating barrage, forcing the aerial cavalry to regroup. The ground shook as more enemy reinforcements charged toward the group, but Resh-1 moved like ghosts through the melee, taking down anyone who came too close with swift and brutal efficiency.

Finally, they burst into an immense plaza. The team slid to a halt, their weapons ready as they took in the scene before them.

The square was a warzone in waiting. Hundreds of knights in gleaming armor stood in tight formations, their shields locked and spears braced. Massive, wild mammoths adorned with crude iron plating roared and stamped their feet, each ridden by archers who already had arrows nocked and ready to fire. Above them, more than a hundred winged cavalry circled in the night sky, their riders watching like hawks poised to strike.

Leonard caught his breath, glancing at the operatives around him. Their expressions were calm, focused, as if this overwhelming display of force was nothing more than another mission.

"Boss," one of the operatives said, his voice steady despite the odds. "Orders?"

Leonard clenched his fists, his demonic energy flaring as he locked eyes with the enemy forces ahead. "We break through at my signal."

The operators of Resh-1 stood motionless, weapons ready, their eyes locked on the wall of knights and monstrous beasts across the plaza. Each of them was tense, poised for action, waiting for Leonard's signal. His hand hovered slightly in the air, ready to give the command.

Before he could speak, the sky above them split with a deafening roar. A blazing meteor streaked down from the heavens, growing larger and brighter before crashing into the ground between the two forces. The impact shook the earth, sending shockwaves in all directions. Flames erupted from the point of collision, and a massive cloud of smoke and debris enveloped the plaza.

Everyone was thrown to the ground, operators, knights, and beasts alike. Leonard hit the ground hard, the force knocking the air from his lungs. He rolled to the side and coughed, struggling to push himself upright. His ears rang, and his vision was obscured by thick dust swirling through the air.

He wiped his face with a sleeve and squinted toward the epicenter of the explosion. Through the haze, a dark silhouette began to emerge, massive and deliberate, each step echoing across the ruined plaza.

Leonard froze for a moment, then slowly stood, brushing debris off his coat. A grin crept across his face as recognition set in.

"You sure took your time finding me," Leonard said, his voice cutting through the fading chaos.

The figure stopped just before him, standing tall and imposing. A deep, steady voice answered, tinged with calm authority and a hint of apology.

"I'm sorry, boss. We ran into some difficulties."

Leonard chuckled softly, shaking his head. The grin widened as the figure stepped fully into the light, revealing a towering man clad in scorched armor, his presence radiating quiet power.

"I'm glad to see you, Graves," Leonard said.

——

I'm so sorry for the time I haven't posted a chapter. I was caught off guard by exams, but don't worry, this story will not go on hiatus. 🥲