Dragon Slayer - Part 4

"Are you ready to hear my plan?" Satoru asked, his grin widening into something almost unsettling.

I still had lingering doubts about what he had just told me. "You said it's a plan to protect the world, right? But when you say 'protect the world'—exactly what are we protecting it from?"

"If you see it, you'll understand," Satoru replied cryptically, giving me no chance to interject before continuing. "All I can tell you is that it's a threat to every living thing on Sunless World."

I didn't know how to respond. Was there truly something out there capable of threatening the entire world?

 And if there was—how were we supposed to stop it?

Satoru kept talking, unfazed by my silence. "Listen carefully. When you wake up, you need to find this 'threat.' Trust me, it won't be that hard. Once you do, lure it to the western fishing harbor. After that, I'll take over."

"W-what?" I stammered. "The western fishing harbor?"

"Considering your current location, that shouldn't be too difficult. I'd also wager you'll be able to find some form of transportation nearby."

"How do you know where I am?" I demanded.

He laughed. "Just a matter of probability."

…

No matter how confident she had sounded in front of Glenn, Esther quickly realized that she had no real plan. She had no idea where the Saipan soldiers were moving next—or even if she did, what difference would it make? She was just a single, unarmed girl, while they were an entire military force.

But I do have a weapon, don't I? Esther thought, reaching out into her mind.

Silence.

No voice answered her.

Hey! Can you hear me!?

Still nothing.

Esther shook her head in frustration. Whatever had happened, something was preventing 'it' from responding to her now.

And of all times—why now!? she screamed internally.

It seemed she would have to rely on herself.

The girl forced herself to think rationally. The army had to move in formations—even if they split into smaller units, they would eventually regroup. There had to be a command center or at least a temporary frontline base where they would consolidate their forces.

Esther scanned the cliffs, searching for signs of structures or movement. But the worsening storm of ash and dust was quickly destroying her visibility. No matter how hard she tried to focus, the rising black haze swallowed everything in its path, veiling the mountains like a thick, smothering fog.

Just my luck.

She turned back toward Glenn. Embarrassing or not, she had to admit she needed shelter—somewhere to wait out the storm until the winds swept the suffocating clouds away.

She had only taken a few steps when she realized—too late—that the swirling smoke had encircled her like a living specter. The wind howled, blasting waves of ash from all directions like a coordinated barrage. She could barely see her own outstretched hand, feeling her way forward to avoid slamming into a wall.

And then, her right foot found nothing but empty air.

The road had been wide enough, but the storm had concealed the real danger—the treacherous drop at the edge of the ridge. Esther had completely forgotten she was walking along the mountain's spine.

She tumbled down the slope, half-sliding, half-rolling, leaving a trail of displaced dust and debris in her wake. Her back slammed into a rock, knocking the breath from her lungs in an instant.

Then, she fell.

Tumbling into the void.

She lost consciousness before she hit the ground.

…

The first thing Esther felt upon waking was pain—deep, raw, and overwhelming. She clenched her teeth as every muscle in her body screamed in protest.

Slowly, she unfolded from the curled position she had instinctively assumed upon impact. The worst pain was in her back—a deep, pulsating agony. Scratches and cuts lined her arms and legs, carving thin, jagged paths across her skin. But miraculously, her legs were intact—bruised, battered, but without any serious injuries. Compared to the searing pain in her back, everything else felt almost insignificant.

Esther scanned her surroundings and quickly realized that the slope she had just tumbled down wasn't as steep as she had feared. She was lucky—it wasn't the sheer drop along the mountain ridge she and Glenn had taken when escaping the missile station.

But the moment she turned her gaze forward, her breath caught in her throat.

Even with the swirling clouds of smoke and the storm of ash still thick in the air, what lay ahead of her was unmistakable in sheer scale.

Before her stood a massive metal gate, split open, dwarfing the one they had encountered inside the cave by four or five times. Though its design was identical, its sheer size made the two-story bunkers flanking it on either side appear almost insignificant in comparison.

Sprawling in front of the gate was a vast concrete courtyard, lined with firefly lamps and towering floodlights that illuminated the scene with an eerie, flickering glow. Esther could clearly see the movements of a large battalion of soldiers stationed before the entrance. Scattered across the courtyard were carts and horses of various sizes, some carrying supplies, others mounted by armed men. A handful of soldiers stood watch on the second level of the bunkers, peering through binoculars, while others sat inside makeshift tents, casually cleaning their weapons.

There was no doubt in her mind—this was the main entrance to the missile station, the very place they had once infiltrated while following Ivan.

And by pure chance, it had now become the frontline command post of the Saipan army.

For a brief moment, hope flared in her chest. But the reality of her situation quickly pulled her back down to earth.

Storming through these soldiers to re-enter the facility and rescue Sonia was out of the question. No, she was completely defenseless, unarmed, and alone. Worse yet, it—her last and only weapon—remained silent, unresponsive to her calls.

Which meant she was entirely on her own.

She cast a glance around the rocky terrain where she had landed. Towering slabs of jagged stone jutted into the concrete courtyard, forming a natural barrier that shielded her from the soldiers' line of sight. It was a stroke of luck, though it wouldn't last if she lingered too long.

Beyond the courtyard and the enormous gate, a dirt road snaked down the mountain, winding its way toward the moss-covered hills below. It had to be the same road she and Glenn had followed along the ridge.

Regardless of what she chose—to attempt a rescue or to flee—she had no choice but to cross the courtyard, a space teeming with enemy soldiers.

Esther narrowed her eyes, scanning the troops spread across the concrete expanse. Six patrolled the perimeter, moving in rhythmic patterns. Three more stood atop the bunker, eyes pressed against binoculars, scanning the horizon. Each soldier wore a gray camouflage uniform, their gear a uniform shade of black, blending seamlessly with the ever-present ashfall of Kyushu.

Esther committed every detail to memory before gathering her long hair and tucking it beneath the collar of her shirt. She carefully stripped off her orange vest—now a dull, ash-streaked gray—and pressed it against the soot-covered ground, rubbing it in until the fabric was nearly indistinguishable from the filth around her. Once satisfied, she slipped it back on.

They were expecting an attack from the outside. What they wouldn't anticipate was an enemy walking right through their ranks, disguised and unnoticed. Esther silently thanked every spy novel she had ever read.

All she needed now was to slip into the open courtyard without drawing attention. If she managed to blend in with the soldiers, she would be safe—at least until someone took a closer look. The riskiest part of her plan would be the moment she crossed the open space. If a patrolling guard or one of the soldiers stationed atop the bunker caught sight of her emerging from the rocks, she would be exposed in an instant.

Pressing herself against the rough surface of the stone, she waited. A soldier stood on the far side of the concrete lot, scanning the area. Then, at last, he turned—his back facing her as he walked away.

Esther inhaled deeply, pulling the collar of her shirt up over the lower half of her face.

Then she stepped out of hiding.

Her foot touched the concrete, and she moved forward. The raging ash storm worked to her advantage, thick plumes of soot swirling like a chaotic swarm, reducing visibility to mere meters. She prayed the same held true for the sentries on the bunker rooftop as she paced forward with deliberate, unhurried steps, using the high-powered floodlights as her guide.

Her heart nearly stopped when two men suddenly emerged from the storm right in front of her, sprinting past as they carried a makeshift stretcher. A body, wrapped in blood-stained bandages, lay unmoving atop it. Through the dim haze, she caught sight of grotesque burn wounds running along the man's arms, his skin charred and blistered.

The soldiers rushed past without even noticing her, and she let out a breath of relief.

But the sight of the burns sparked another thought.

Even the Saipan forces hadn't been prepared for the volcanic eruption. If their own men were suffering from burns, it meant that neither the king nor the central government of Saipan had known about the existence of this volcano at all.

She forced herself to refocus. Now wasn't the time to get lost in speculation.

Steeling herself, she pressed forward, her eyes lifting toward the enormous iron gate. Through the haze and flickering lights, she could finally make out what lay beyond—an enormous industrial chamber, vast and cavernous. It was part of the very hall they had once sprinted through, fleeing the cave-in.

Bright floodlights cast their glow on the hulking forms of at least half a dozen armored vehicles, lined up in formation just inside the entrance. Teams of engineers moved between them, checking their conditions, performing routine maintenance.

Not wanting to risk standing out in the open before the massive gateway, Esther veered off to the side.

Her target wasn't inside.

It was the bunker to the right.

More specifically, the control panel beside the right-hand door—the same place where every other door she had encountered had its mechanism installed.

Of course, Esther had no intention of tampering with the gate itself. Her real objective lay elsewhere—finding a way into the maintenance tunnels, which she assumed would be near the gate's control panel, and using them to navigate back inside the missile launch facility.

If Sonia and the others were even still there.

The last time Esther had heard Sonia's voice was when she had regained consciousness in the maintenance passage. At the very least, she needed to get back there and begin her search from that point.

At the front of the bunker stood a field tent, its entrance flaps drawn open just enough for her to glimpse three Saipan soldiers sitting inside, laughing as they played cards. Seeing them preoccupied, she veered around the opposite side of the bunker.

It was the exact same type of structure Glenn had used as shelter—there was no mistaking it. The only difference was that the soldiers had draped heavy canvas tarps over the gaps in the walls where doors should have been, repurposing the space for their needs.

Judging from the layout, the control panel for the gate had to be inside this bunker.

She pressed her ear to the fabric, listening. No voices, no movement. After waiting a moment longer to be sure, she reached out and carefully lifted the edge of the tarp—

A firm hand clamped down on her left shoulder.

Esther jolted violently, her breath catching in her throat as a Saipan soldier materialized beside her. He wore dark goggles and a face mask that concealed the lower half of his face. His gray camouflage coat flapped in the wind, and the shifting fabric briefly revealed the weapon in his grip.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was muffled and rough, speaking in Zen.

I'm dead. The thought struck like a hammer. He knows. He has to know that I'm the infiltrated spy.

But before she could react, the soldier casually withdrew his hand from her shoulder.

"Forget it," he muttered. "Just follow me. You're free right now, aren't you?"

Then, without another word, he turned and strode through the massive open gate.

Esther hesitated, stunned.

"Hurry up," he called back when she failed to move.

She forced herself into motion, following after him while carefully suppressing the surge of relief that threatened to betray her.

Maybe being a spy was easier than she thought.

…

The two of them walked along the perimeter of the cavernous hall—a vast, hollow space designed for something far larger than humans. It was the same type of chamber she had encountered before, with towering pillars spaced at precise intervals, as if constructed to contain some ancient colossus.

The sheer scale of the room made it impractical for the soldiers to install floodlights everywhere, so instead, glowing mushrooms had been scattered across the floor, casting eerie bioluminescent trails to serve as navigational markers in the dim expanse.

"Damn it. First, the mountain erupts in flames, and now this snow storm has completely cut off communications with Miyuki. So here we are—stuck," the soldier muttered, frustration evident in his voice. As he pulled off his goggles and mask, Esther finally got a good look at him—a man in his late twenties with wavy brown hair and strikingly rare blue eyes for a Saipan native.

She had no idea how to respond, so she simply kept walking in silence.

"I don't recognize you," the man continued, glancing at her with mild suspicion. "You from the naval division?"

"Y-Yes," Esther replied stiffly.

"Then you must know how to operate a radio?"

"Of course," she answered immediately.

Of course, she didn't.

She could feel the weight of his gaze assessing her, scrutinizing every word, every hesitation.

"How old are you, anyway?" he asked. "You look too young to be in the military."

The implied condescension made her bristle, despite her fear of being exposed. "What does it matter how old I am? It's not like I need your permission to enlist."

The soldier let out a short, humorless chuckle. "If we hadn't lost Shirayuki and Fubuki, your unit wouldn't have been forced to reinforce our ground invasion. You wouldn't have had to get your hands dirty with an operation like this."

"Then why are we killing civilians?" The words escaped before Esther had the chance to think them through.

The man stopped in his tracks.

Slowly, he turned to face her, his expression unreadable.

"You should know damn well why we're doing this," he said, voice low.

Shit. Esther swallowed hard. "I—I didn't mean—"

Before she could finish, the wall behind them slid open with a low mechanical hiss. It was only then that she realized it was a reinforced metal door. Above it, a dim red light flickered sluggishly, casting long shadows on the floor.

She had seen doors like this before—inside an abandoned Soviet base, back when she and Sonia first sneaked in at the beginning of this entire ordeal. If she recalled correctly, that room had housed the radio transmission equipment.

A woman stepped out of the room.

She had sleek, shoulder-length black hair and sharp, narrow golden eyes that peered through the lenses of her glasses—eyes that looked as though they could see through every lie ever told.

Something about her gaze made Esther uneasy.

"No response from Miyuki," the woman announced curtly to the brown-haired soldier. "This doesn't add up. Something's wrong."

"We should try again once the storm dies down," the brown-haired soldier suggested respectfully, making Esther suspect that the woman he was speaking to was his commanding officer.

"This has nothing to do with the snow storm," the dark-haired woman countered. "The receivers are still picking up transmissions from Tokyo, and I was able to make contact with the radio unit outside just fine." She touched her chin, thumb and forefinger resting against it in thought. "Which means something must have happened to them."

"You're saying someone attacked our destroyer?" The lieutenant chuckled, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "We wiped out all resistance at the port. Even if there were any remnants left, they don't have the firepower to take down a destroyer."

The commander narrowed her eyes. "They already sank two of our destroyers, Lieutenant. Have you forgotten?"

Esther had no idea what they were talking about, but the woman's words had silenced the lieutenant immediately.

"…Forget it," the commander sighed. "The likelihood is low. It's possible there was just a communications failure on their end."

That was when she noticed Esther for the first time.

"And who's this?" she asked, her sharp golden gaze locking onto her.

"Temporary radio operator," the lieutenant answered. "She's from the navy. I was going to have her monitor for any response from Miyuki while we gather more intel."

The commander's predatory yellow eyes scrutinized Esther. Instinctively, she lowered her gaze to the floor, unable to hold that piercing stare.

She won't know. She can't know. Esther reassured herself. Foreigners had settled in Saipan and joined the military all the time. She was of enlistment age. There was no reason for anyone to doubt her.

Still, she flinched when the commander spoke again.

"Forget the radio," she said. "Bring her with us."

The lieutenant hesitated. "Is that a good idea? She's not infantry—she won't be of much use to us."

"You're questioning my judgment again, Lieutenant?" the commander asked without looking back. Then she turned and strode into the darkness of the vast hall, heading back the way they had come. "As long as she can pull a trigger, that's good enough."

What the hell do they want me to do?

A storm of questions raged in Esther's mind, but as the brown-haired lieutenant sighed and began following after the commander, she realized she had no choice but to go along with them.

The words echoed in her head over and over.

'As long as she can pull a trigger, that's good enough.'

…

After retracing their steps back to the massive metal gate where the engineers were still busy repairing the armored vehicles, the dark-haired commander reached for another door set into the wall. This time, it revealed a narrow, spiraling stairwell, just wide enough for them to move in a single file.

Without hesitation, she ascended first. The lieutenant remained at the base, holding the door open, leaving Esther no choice but to follow the commander up the stairs—with him closing in behind her, effectively cutting off her only escape route.

"You're from the navy, aren't you?" the commander asked abruptly, not bothering to turn around.

"Yes…" Esther replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Whatever confidence she had in her deception evaporated under this woman's presence.

"I thought so," the commander mused. "I recognize every ground soldier assigned to this operation."

Esther bit her lip. If she starts asking me specific questions about the navy and I can't answer, will she shoot me here and now?

But the woman said nothing more. Only the rhythmic echo of three sets of boots striking concrete filled the silence as they climbed. When they finally reached the top, they stepped onto a narrow landing, where another steel door awaited. The commander pushed it open, allowing a flood of light to spill in through the gap.

As they passed the two guards stationed on either side, armed with automatic rifles, Esther realized where they were—a control room.

It resembled the missile launch control chamber, though much of it had been stripped down to its bare bones. A panoramic window once covered in reinforced glass had been reduced to a gaping opening in the wall, offering an unobstructed view of the island. Control panels along the walls had been pried open, their wiring gutted and left dangling like severed veins. The floor was blackened with soot and crumbling debris.

Peering down, Esther could see the entire concrete yard below—the makeshift command post, the two-story bunkers flanking the enormous metal gate. Judging by the height, this room sat roughly ten meters above the ground.

At the center of the room stood a table, much like the one in the missile control chamber.

Only this time, there were no skeletal remains seated at it.

Instead, two living prisoners were bound to their chairs, facing each other from opposite ends of the table. Their hands were tied behind their backs, their heads concealed beneath coarse burlap sacks. Blood and ash clung to their tattered clothing, obscuring any trace of the fabric's original color.

Their shallow, ragged breathing and the faint shifts in their posture confirmed that they were still alive.

"What's with the blindfolds?" the lieutenant asked as he entered behind them.

"Since they refuse to confess, I've come up with a new method," the commander replied coolly, withdrawing a revolver from within her coat. The ivory grip gleamed against the dim surroundings, its pristine white stark against her black-gloved fingers.

With a flick of her wrist, she snapped open the cylinder, reaching into her pocket to retrieve a single round.

"I've blocked their vision and hearing," she explained, slotting the bullet into the chamber before snapping the cylinder shut. "That way, they won't hear anything from the outside world. I'll take turns asking each of them the same question…"

Her voice remained eerily calm as she spun the chamber.

"…And if their answers don't match, it means one of them is lying."

The commander moved behind the bound figure seated to her left.

As she pulled the burlap sack away, Esther found herself staring at Will's bruised and bloodied face. The once-white cloth wrapped around his eyes had been soaked through, now stained a deep crimson.

She barely managed to stop herself from gasping, resisting the instinct to clasp a hand over her mouth. Every muscle in her face locked into place, forced into stillness under the piercing scrutiny of those narrow, yellow eyes.

It was evident that Will had endured an excruciating interrogation. Fresh bruises marred his features, swelling distorting the contours of his face. His lips were parted slightly, the corner of his mouth split and oozing blood, a trickle of red and saliva dribbling down his chin.

"Shall we start with this one?" the commander mused, her tone almost casual as she reached down and plucked the earplugs from Will's ears—without waiting for an answer.

He didn't react. His head lolled forward, and for a brief moment, Esther feared he had already lost consciousness. But the low, ragged sound escaping his throat told her otherwise.

The commander leaned in close, her lips just beside his ear as she spoke in flawless English.

"Alright. What's your name?"

For a long while, there was only silence.

Esther thought he might have actually blacked out this time.

Then, at last, Will rasped, "Will… Warren."

He barely finished before a violent cough wracked his body, a thick glob of blood spilling past his lips.

Esther clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms as she fought to maintain composure.

The commander, however, wasn't watching Will.

She was watching Esther.

"And your friend?" The woman shifted her gaze slightly, flicking her eyes toward Sonia's motionless form. "You came together, didn't you? Judging by the way she tried to use that antique flintlock to save you."

There wasn't even the faintest trace of a Saipan accent in her English. It was unnervingly smooth.

"Yes… her name is Sonia… Kasparov," Will forced out between shallow breaths. He paused, inhaling sharply. "Please, you have to believe me—we're not spies."

A sharp, brutal crack rang through the chamber as the commander struck him across the face with the ivory handle of her revolver.

"Just answer the questions I ask." Her voice remained cold, detached. "So, are there more of your people out there?"

Will shook his head slowly.

The revolver's ivory grip struck him across the face once more.

"Are you saying that boy with the sword wasn't with you?" The commander's voice was edged with steel.

A boy with a sword? She must mean Rain. Esther had no doubt that he would have managed to slip away from the soldiers without much trouble. But where was he now?

"It was just the two of us, I swear!" Will gasped. "Please, believe me!"

 "Why are you in Kyushu?"

Will spat another mouthful of blood onto the concrete floor.

"We came with a U.S. expeditionary submarine," he croaked. "We were sent here on a mapping mission… charting the Sunless World."

The commander smiled.

"Mapping?" she echoed, tilting her head slightly. "Inside an abandoned Soviet missile base?"

"I didn't know it was a missile launch facility!" Will protested, his voice ragged.

"But…" The commander's smirk stretched into something colder, sharper. "You knew the access code. A code that only the Soviets should have known."

This time, Will hesitated too long.

The revolver struck him again.

"There… There was a Soviet man who brought us in, But he's dead." he mumbled, no longer bothering to spit the blood pooling in his mouth.

"And why did he bring you in?"

Another pause. Another heartbeat of silence too long.

The commander raised her weapon once more.

Will flinched, blurting out, "To create a sun!"

The room fell into stunned silence.

Then laughter erupted—first from the soldiers standing guard at the doorway, then from the lieutenant, whose scoffing laugh was hollow, humorless.

"Well, that settles it," the lieutenant said. "We know who's lying."

"Please, listen to me!" Will pleaded. "Our ship docked here to resupply, and that's when we met the Soviet at the harbor. He told us—he said he was an astronomer. He said he knew how to create a sun. And then—"

Will's words died in his throat.

Because it was true.

They had met Ivan, who claimed he knew how to recreate the sun.

But Ivan hadn't known the access code.

The one who opened the door… was Sonia.

"Let me summarize," the commander murmured, her voice so quiet it sent a chill through the air. She absently tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear, her yellow eyes glinting with something unreadable.

"A Soviet astronomer meets you—complete strangers—at the harbor. He claims he can create a sun. Then he brings you up this mountain, inputs a classified Soviet access code into that door, and invites you inside a Soviet missile launch facility to watch him make a sun? That's what you're telling me?"

The lieutenant stepped forward, raising his sidearm and aiming it at Will. "That's enough. Let me finish him off."

A sharp crack split the air.

Esther flinched, thinking for a terrifying moment that the gun had fired—but then she saw the lieutenant collapse backward onto the floor.

Yellow eyes commander stood over him, her grip still firm around the ivory-handled revolver.

"You've questioned my judgment again, Takeda," she said, her voice colder than steel. "No—this time, you outright tried to defy me. Do you still consider me your commanding officer?"

Slowly, lieutenant Takeda pushed himself upright. "Apologies, Commander Kikyo." He bowed his head slightly, tucking his pistol back into its holster. "I let my emotions cloud my judgment."

Kikyo turned her gaze back to Will. "Now, one last question. Were you the ones who launched that missile?"

Will shook his head violently. "We had nothing to do with the missile, I swear!"

It was too rushed, too desperate—a response that only made him sound more suspicious. Esther held her breath, terrified that Kikyo would strike him again. But instead, the commander simply stepped away.

"Gag him."

She circled the strategy table at the center of the room, stopping behind the second figure whose head remained covered by a burlap sack. "I have no more questions for him."

"No, please! You have to believe me! We're not Soviet spies!" Will's voice rose in desperation, but Takeda shoved a bundled-up sock into his mouth before he could say another word. The sack was yanked back over his head, muffling his protests into nothing but garbled sounds.

Kikyo waited patiently as his struggling faded into weak, defeated whimpers. Then she spoke.

"Now, let's see if this one gives the same answers."

She gripped the burlap sack and pulled it away.

A cascade of dark red hair—matted with dried blood—spilled free.

Sonia.

Esther did not flinch this time. She had expected this. If Will was here, then Sonia was, too. What truly concerned her now was how Sonia would answer.

Kikyo's method was a textbook interrogation tactic—standard procedure when questioning multiple captives. Ask them the same questions. Compare their answers. Find the discrepancies.

And so far, Will had told the truth—except for one thing. He had lied about whether there were others. He had lied to protect her and Rain.

Esther had no doubt Sonia would do the same.

Unlike Will, Sonia's face bore only a few bruises. Clearly, they had gone much harder on Will. Even as the cloth plugging her ears was removed, Sonia remained eerily calm, her posture steady despite the bindings.

"Alright," Kikyo said, almost idly. "Your turn. What's your name?"

"Sonia Kasparov," she replied, her voice smooth and composed.

"What about your companion?"

"Will Warren."

"And why are you here in Kyushu?"

"We arrived aboard a U.S. survey submarine. We only docked here for a temporary resupply."

Esther stood frozen, listening as the conversation unfolded so seamlessly. How could Sonia be this composed?

"You're being awfully cooperative," Kikyo mused. "So, tell me—what exactly were you two doing here?"

There was a pause. Then, Sonia spoke.

"If you're looking for the one responsible, that would be me. I was the one who pressed the button and launched the missile."

Will let out a muffled scream, his entire body thrashing against his restraints. Esther's breath caught in her throat, her mind reeling. Even Takeda, standing beside her, appeared taken aback.

"W-what?"

"I'm a Soviet spy," Sonia continued calmly. "I infiltrated the U.S. submarine under false pretenses. This was my mission. Will knew nothing. The decision was mine alone."

Esther's eyes widened as realization crashed over her like a tidal wave. She's sacrificing herself. Sonia was turning herself in to save Will.

Kikyo's lips curled into an amused smile. "Confessing so easily? That's suspicious in its own way."

"That's your problem, not mine."

The commander chuckled softly, then turned away from Sonia.

She walked towards Esther.

The world slowed.

Kikyo extended the revolver toward her.

"Well then, it's time to make a choice."

Esther barely processed the words.

"W-what?" she stammered.

"I've heard sailors have a keen sense for reading people," Kikyo mused. "Since you're from the Navy, you must be the same."

The smile she wore made Esther's skin crawl.

"Pick the liar. And pull the trigger."

Silence.

Every gaze in the room turned to her. Even though their eyes were covered, both Sonia and Will had fallen utterly still.

They knew she was here.

And they knew that for whatever reason, she was the one who had to decide which of them would die.

Esther stared at the revolver in Kikyo's hand. The aged ivory grip. The cold gleam of metal. It felt as though she were being hypnotized by its presence alone.

A storm of thoughts raged through her mind, each one colliding against the next.

What do I do?

What should I do?

"What's taking so long? Hurry up and get it over with."

Lieutenant Takeda's voice cut through the tense silence like the blade of a guillotine. He had already made his choice—he was certain he knew which one of them was lying.

Esther slowly reached out, her fingers brushing against the revolver's cold metal grip as she took it from Kikyo's outstretched hand. It was heavier than the flintlock she had once wielded against Sonia, the weight of it pressing down on her like an unbearable burden. As she curled her fingers around the handle, the soft click of its internal mechanism sent a shiver down her spine.

The moment the gun left Kikyo's grasp, Will began thrashing violently against his restraints, his muffled screams raw with desperation. Blood seeped steadily from the gash in his leg, staining the floor beneath him.

Will was a soldier. He had always known the risks that came with it. And with a wound that severe, even if he survived this, would he ever make it out of here alive?

A sickening thought wormed its way into Esther's mind before she could stop it—she was weighing her options, calculating which of her friends she should kill. The realization made her stomach churn, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the thought away.

"I already admitted it, didn't I!?" Sonia's voice rang out, sharp and defiant. "I'm the Soviet spy! I was the one who launched that missile! I was the one who chose to kill everyone on this island! The only person who deserves to die here is me!"

Yes. Sonia had chosen to press the button. Even after Esther had warned her—begged her—not to. She had made the decision to sacrifice an entire island. If there was any justice in the world, wouldn't her execution be justified?

There is no such thing as a just execution.

The thought screamed inside Esther's head, yet her hands refused to steady.

Just moments ago, she had been willing to kill a friend to protect the lives of strangers. And now—now she couldn't even keep her grip firm on the gun.

She had seen Kikyo load only a single bullet into the cylinder. Which meant even if she turned the gun and fired on the commander now, or on Takeda standing beside her, she wouldn't make it past the two guards stationed by the door. They'd shoot her down before she could do anything.

This was a test.

That was all this was.

A test to see if she was trustworthy.

And the only way to ensure the least amount of bloodshed… was to pass it.

Which left the only question that mattered.

Who should she shoot?

Who should she save?

What the hell am I supposed to do?

"Do it," Kikyo whispered. The words were a cold, razor-sharp edge against Esther's trembling resolve.

So that's what you want? Esther thought. You want to see what I'll do?

Fine.

Then she'd give Kikyo exactly what she asked for.

She tightened her grip, bracing herself as she raised the gun toward Saipan's commander.

And then—

A knock.

Esther stopped her hand midair.

A knock at the metal door.

The quiet rapping of knuckles against steel was almost laughably out of place amidst the suffocating tension. It made Esther jump, her pulse spiking in surprise.

"We have another prisoner!"

The voice was muffled through the door, but clear enough to send a ripple through the room.

"Perfect timing," Kikyo remarked, not once taking her eyes off Esther. "Bring them in."

The sound of shifting boots echoed through the room, followed by the grinding scrape of metal as the heavy door swung open.

And then—

The sharp, metallic clatter of something small hitting the ground.

Esther's gaze snapped downward, locking onto a slender, cylindrical object rolling across the concrete floor.

A flash grenade.

The moment she registered what it was, everything around her erupted into blinding white.

A deafening silence swallowed the world whole.

Her sense of direction vanished in an instant. Her limbs felt weightless, as if yanked by some unseen force.

Then, gradually, the silence receded, replaced by a shrill ringing that pulsed against her eardrums. Her vision swam, blurred and distorted by tears.

And that was when she felt it.

The cold, unyielding press of steel against her temple.

The very same revolver she had been holding mere moments ago.

Her arms were wrenched behind her, pinned tight.

"I thought spies were supposed to abandon their captured comrades."

Kikyo's voice came from just behind her, low and edged with amusement. She was speaking in English now.

Esther blinked rapidly, forcing herself to focus through the residual haze of the flash.

In front of her, two guards lay sprawled across the ground, motionless.

Their automatic rifles lay beside them—each weapon neatly severed into two jagged halves.

"I'm trying to tell you—we're not spies," Rain said, flicking his sword with a casual ease as he stepped through the doorway.

Behind him, Glenn followed, leveling her wooden-stock sniper rifle at Lieutenant Takeda.

Kikyo remained still, her expression unreadable. No shock, no alarm—just the same measured calm she had worn throughout the interrogation.

"How did you get past my soldiers?" she asked, her voice smooth, detached, as if she were inquiring about the weather.

"Took down one of the men hunting me, stole his uniform, walked right in with a 'prisoner delivery,'" Rain replied, straightforward as ever.

Glenn moved closer to Takeda, nudging his sidearm across the floor with the toe of her boot.

"You don't have to answer her," she muttered. "Just let those kids go, and we'll be on our way."

"Let go of a Soviet spy who launched a warhead at Saipan?" Takeda snapped, his voice burning with outrage. "Release the murderer who destroyed this island?"

"Your army was planning to slaughter everyone here anyway, what's the difference?" Glenn's eyes narrowed. "Hand over the kids. Or are you really willing to trade your commander's life for a so-called 'spy'?"

A light chuckle escaped Kikyo's lips. "And what guarantee do I have that you won't kill us the moment I comply?" She tilted her head, almost playfully. "You know, the side with the real leverage is the one holding the advantage. And I'd say that's still me."

She wasn't wrong.

Time was on her side. The longer this standoff dragged out, the greater the chance that reinforcements would realize something was amiss and come looking.

And judging by the way Glenn and Rain exchanged wary glances, they knew it too.

"So, kid—any backup plans?" Glenn asked, her gaze flicking to Rain.

But Rain wasn't looking at Glenn. His attention was locked onto Esther, eyes tight with concern.

She understood why. No matter how fast Rain was, there was no way he could close the distance before Kikyo pulled the trigger.

If this stalemate continued, they would all either be captured or killed.

Then, just as the tension in the air stretched to the breaking point—

"He's coming…"

A small voice broke through the suffocating silence.

The girl.

Esther hadn't even realized she was in the room. The child stepped forward, her entire body coated in ash and soot, her face eerily devoid of fear.

She moved past the startled expressions of Glenn, Rain, and even Takeda with an unwavering steadiness, as though the situation unfolding around her was nothing more than a distant echo.

She walked straight toward Esther and Kikyo.

Kikyo's voice was a razor's edge. "I told you—I don't underestimate my enemies just because of their age. Come any closer, and I'll shoot."

The girl glanced at the commander, her dark eyes barely visible beneath the tangled curtain of her hair. There was something hollow about them—something reminiscent of sailors Esther had met before, people who had long since abandoned hope.

"It doesn't matter what you do," the girl murmured.

Without another word, she stepped past both Esther and Kikyo, heading toward the shattered observation window. Placing a small, dirt-streaked hand on the fractured edge, she gazed out at the burning landscape beyond.

"He's coming…" she whispered again.

A chill ran down Esther's spine.

"Who's coming?" she asked.

The girl did not turn. "The voice of the mountain."

The voice of the mountain…

She had spoken of it before. The voice from the northern mountains, the one imprisoned beneath the volcano. She had said that when the mountain erupted, that voice would be released.

And then… the world would be destroyed.

At the time, Esther had dismissed it as a child's fantasy—an attempt to make sense of grief in her own way.

But now…

"What the hell is she talking about?" Takeda demanded, voice sharp with irritation. "What 'voice'? What—"

His words cut off abruptly.

He had turned toward the window.

Esther heard it too.

A sound slicing through the air—something massive, moving fast.

Down below, the panicked shouts of soldiers in the open courtyard made Takeda abandon his caution. He strode toward the window, forgetting all about Glenn's rifle.

"What the hell is that?" he breathed.

"Report, Lieutenant. What do you see?" Kikyo demanded irritably, still unable to move.

Takeda's voice was barely above a whisper. "There's… a fireball in the darkness above…"

He stood frozen, staring in awe.

"It's coming straight for us."

The commander's sharp voice cut through the rising noise. "A missile?"

By now, the roaring sound had grown so deafening that Kikyo had to shout just to be heard.

"No, it's not leaving a smoke trail—" Takeda's breath hitched. "No… that's—"

His words were swallowed by an explosion.

The entire mountain trembled. The floor beneath them quaked violently. Esther felt herself ripped from Kikyo's grasp as she collapsed onto the ground, narrowly dodging a cascade of falling debris.

Dust filled the room. The ringing in her ears drowned out everything else.

When the smoke finally began to settle, she saw that everyone had been thrown to the floor—everyone except for Rain and Kikyo.

They were standing, their expressions locked in identical, stunned disbelief.

Esther followed their gaze to the observation window—

And froze.

What should have been an open view of Kyushu was now consumed by a towering wall of molten stone, glowing with an eerie, searing orange light. Steam hissed from the cracks, pouring into the sky like the breath of a slumbering giant.

And at the center of that wall…

A single, massive eye—burning red, slit-pupiled, alive.

Then came the screams.

Gunfire erupted below. Soldiers opened fire in a blind panic, their bullets bouncing harmlessly off the shifting wall of stone.

And then it moved.

A long, narrow head—sleek, almost spear-like—emerged from the glowing rock. A pair of vast, membranous wings unfurled behind it, stretching like those of a colossal bat. Its entire body was encased in something that looked like superheated stone, its surface pulsating with veins of molten fire.

The beast's sheer scale made the concrete courtyard and steel gate look like a child's playthings in comparison.

Esther had seen this creature before.

In the old books she loved, there were illustrations of creatures from the old world. Out of all of them, there was one she had always admired.

Dragons.

Legends spoke of them as ancient even in the old world. Knights of the medieval ages hunted them to prove their valor. Some stories said dragons kidnapped princesses and carried them off to towers, though Esther had always found that part difficult to believe.

But now—

This was real.

It matched the depictions perfectly.

Gunfire continued to blaze across the battlefield, a relentless hail of bullets striking its molten hide—only to shatter upon impact, bursting into harmless sparks. The dragon did not flinch. Did not recoil.

Instead, it turned its head, its smoldering gaze sweeping across the terrified soldiers below, as if observing ants scurrying in a burning field.

Then, slowly, it began to lift its head toward the sky.

A deep, resonant rumble vibrated through the air—a sound more felt than heard, like the mountains themselves were groaning in protest.

Then came the heat.

A sudden, searing wave of blistering air rushed through the room, lashing against Esther's skin like an invisible firestorm. Her lungs tightened as she gasped for breath, her instincts screaming the truth before her mind could process it—

It was about to breathe fire.

"Get away from the window! Now!" Esther screamed, scrambling to her feet.

But it was too late.

The dragon opened its maw, revealing rows of saber-like fangs, each one glowing at the edges with the same molten brilliance as its body.

Then—

The world vanished in a blinding inferno of orange and gold.