Missions

Preparing for the Future – The Reinforcement of Solara

Draemir stood still, listening.

The murmurs, the whispered doubts, the quiet awe—he absorbed it all.

And for a moment—he hesitated.

But then—he inhaled deeply.

And as his chest rose and fell, his golden pupils glowed slightly brighter.

And then, he spoke.

Draemir:

"Well, I think that's enough storytelling…"

His voice cut through the noise, firm but steady.

"For all villagers who know—the merchant trail is back open."

"In the laboratory, Crane's body is already being examined."

Then, his pupils flickered slightly, a more serious tone creeping into his voice.

"And there's one thing I can say without waiting for research results…"

"The virus is going to get worse."

The crowd fell silent again.

A tension spread through the air.

"When I brought more outsiders… when I killed Crane… I saw something else."

"New infected."

*"The outsiders know this. But we—**those who live in Solara—*we have never seen them before."

"And unlike what you've seen… they are out of my control."

The Warning of a Changing Virus

Draemir's jaw tensed slightly.

"The virus mutated… wildly. More than before. More than I could've predicted."

"For years, I have been able to command the infected."

"Biters. Virals. Volatiles."

"But even now… I only saw Biters and Virals responding to me."

"Volatiles? Daywalkers? They still listen. But the new ones? They don't."

"Which means… Solara must prepare."

A New Defense Plan – The Reinforcement of Solara

"So—start getting mentally ready."

"Solara will be reinforced."

"And when I say this… I mean it."

"All entrances will be covered and surrounded by Daywalkers."

"And for added defense, the Volatile Demolishers will also take position as guards."

"I don't know how bad things can get."

"But before it gets worse—we will prepare."

"This will take time… effort… and mental strength."

"But the sooner we start… the sooner we can relax."

"If the virus even lets us."

Giving the Orders – Mobilizing Solara

Without hesitation—Draemir jumped down from the fountain.

The cult members instinctively turned toward him, waiting for his orders.

And he gave them.

Draemir:

"Children! Start planning! We need blueprints, reinforcements, and defenses!"

"The buildings will be fortified. The entrances secured. If any infected tries to break through, they will fail."

Then, he turned to the villagers.

Draemir:

"Villagers! Go sleep, rest."

"Tomorrow morning—gather all your tools. We start building."

Then—his gaze shifted.

To the Peacekeepers.

To the outsiders.

And as he observed them—his golden eyes flickered slightly downward.

They were still wearing their makeshift vests—the golden spit of the Daywalker drying on the fabric, the symbol of the golden sun mask now marked over their old logos.

For a moment—Draemir exhaled slowly.

Then—he spoke.

Draemir:

"And you—the outsiders."

"Get ready to make yourself at home."

"Because you're really going to do so… if you want a home."

"And again… I am not letting Solara fall."

The Dispersal – A New Day Begins Tomorrow

Then—Draemir turned.

Without another word—he walked.

And behind him, the cult members followed, their robes flowing in the wind as they made their way toward the sanctuary.

Aiden hesitated for only a moment.

Then—he lifted his arms.

Shkrrrrrt!

His hooks shot forward, latching onto a surface near Draemir.

And in an instant—he was moving, keeping pace with him.

The Villagers & Outsiders – Processing & Finding Rest

Behind them—the crowd dispersed.

The villagers hurried to their homes, knowing that tomorrow, the real work would begin.

But the outsiders?

They remained.

Some were confused.

Some were still processing everything.

Those who Aiden had brought—they at least had an idea of what to do, where to go.

And so—they took the lead.

They began guiding the new arrivals, helping them find shelter, ensuring they didn't spend the night lost in the streets of Aurenshaven.

Because this was their new home now.

And whether they truly understood it yet or not…

They were now part of Solara.

The Diverging Paths – Aiden's Departure from Solara

The sanctuary's halls were quiet as Draemir led Aiden toward the sewer entrance.

The cult members had already scattered—their focus now on preparing Solara's defenses.

But for Draemir?

His focus was on Aiden.

Because tonight—they would walk separate paths.

And only time would tell if they would cross again.

Draemir's Final Words – A Parting of Paths

As they reached the entrance leading outside of Solara, Draemir slowed his pace, then stopped entirely.

Aiden turned to face him.

And for a moment—there was silence.

Then, Draemir spoke.

Draemir:

"Aiden… You will leave. You still have a mission to accomplish."

"Don't worry—I've been through worse. If I have to face anything… I will."

"If—for some reason—this is the last time I see you…"

Draemir hesitated, just for a moment.

"I'm proud of you. Even after telling you multiple times—I really am."

"Somehow… you made me feel something I never thought I would."

"Something parental."

He inhaled slowly, before continuing.

"We both have different missions. While you go to accomplish yours, I will be accomplishing mine."

"Now, go outside. Take your time. And remember—you have a way to contact me."

"Your radio. Don't lose it."

Draemir's Final Lesson – Aiden's Path is His Own

Draemir's golden pupils flickered slightly, his gaze unwavering.

"I don't know what path you will choose, Aiden."

"But you have traits like Crane."

"I don't know how to guide you to find your own path to evolve into."

"So now… it's up to you."

"Every choice. Every decision. Every opportunity. It all depends on you."

"And only at the end, you will see… if any of those choices mattered."

The Final Farewell – Good Night & Good Luck

For a moment, Draemir simply stared at Aiden.

Then—

His Volatile maw opened slightly, releasing a soft, guttural growl.

Aiden hesitated.

Then—he growled softly back.

No words were needed.

Because they understood each other.

Then—Aiden turned.

His clawed feet pressed against the stone of the sanctuary's floor.

And then—he ran.

Faster and faster—rushing through the sewer tunnels.

Racing toward the outside world.

Back toward his mission.

And as his form vanished into the darkness, Draemir stood still, watching.

For a moment—he simply exhaled softly, his maw closing.

Then—without another word—

He turned.

And walked back into the depths of Solara.

The Colonel's Unexpected Guest – A Deal with the Devil

The air in Villedor was heavy.

The Renegades had seized full control, their banners and presence now an undeniable force within the city.

And at the center of it all—

The Colonel.

His authority was absolute.

His methods were ruthless.

And yet—tonight, something unusual happened.

Something that even he had not predicted.

A visitor arrived.

A visitor he had not summoned.

A visitor he never wanted to see.

The Arrival of Waltz – A Shadow from the Past

In the dimly lit corridors of the Renegade stronghold, footsteps echoed.

Slow.

Methodical.

Deliberate.

And then—

A figure stepped into view.

Dr. Waltz.

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes?

Cold. Calculating. Focused.

The Renegades in the room tensed.

They all knew who he was.

And more importantly—what he was capable of.

The Colonel—seated in his usual commanding position—did not move.

Instead, he simply exhaled through his nose, slow and deliberate.

And then—his gravelly voice filled the room.

The Colonel (Unwelcoming, Suspicious):

"Waltz."

"I don't recall inviting you."

Waltz's Purpose – Studying the Night Hunter

Waltz did not react to the hostile greeting.

He simply walked forward, as if he had every right to be there.

His gloved fingers traced the surface of a nearby table, as if inspecting dust.

Then—he spoke.

His tone?

Calm. Controlled. Dangerous.

Waltz (Composed, But Ominous):

"I've been watching."

"Studying."

"You've been rather… busy, Colonel."

"But I am not here for your war."

"I am here… for something else."

The Colonel narrowed his eyes.

Waltz took another step closer.

And for the first time, his expression shifted.

His lips curled into something resembling a smirk.

But there was no amusement in his eyes.

Waltz (Voice Lower, More Sinister):

"The Night Hunter… was only the beginning."

"I have studied it."

"For years."

"Every trace… every sample… every mutation it has undergone."

"I know more about the virus than anyone else in this world."

"And now, Colonel…"

"I require something from you."

The Colonel's Calculations – An Opportunity in Disguise

The room tensed further.

Renegades shifted uncomfortably, hands lingering near weapons.

The Colonel, however, remained still.

His mind was working.

If Waltz had researched the virus this deeply…

Then he had information.

Information no one else did.

Information that could change the war.

So—the Colonel did not refuse.

Instead—he leaned forward, his fingers steepling together.

And then, in a low, calculating voice…

He asked:

The Colonel (Gravely Serious):

"And what, exactly, do you need from me?"

The Agreement – Waltz's Request

Waltz smiled slightly.

Not out of warmth.

Not out of friendliness.

But because he knew—the Colonel was listening now.

And so, he answered.

Waltz (Blunt, Direct, Uncaring):

"Test subjects."

The Renegades froze.

The Colonel's expression did not change.

Waltz continued, as if he were discussing a simple trade.

"People."

"Human subjects."

"The virus is evolving, Colonel. Faster than ever. And we must evolve with it."

"To control the world, we must first control the virus."

"And for that, I need… test subjects."

The Colonel's Decision – Power or Morality?

For a long moment, the Colonel was silent.

Test subjects.

Human sacrifices.

He had done horrible things before.

He had led the Renegades with an iron grip.

But this?

This was different.

Because this was something he could not take back.

And yet…

The virus was evolving.

New infected.

New threats.

And if Waltz truly held the key to understanding these mutations…

Then this could be the advantage he needed.

After a tense pause, the Colonel finally nodded—slowly.

The Colonel (Cold, Final Decision):

"Fine."

"But I will choose the subjects."

"And in return… you will share everything you know about these mutations."

Waltz's smile grew.

He extended a gloved hand.

And the Colonel—after a brief hesitation—shook it.

Betrayal in an Instant – The Injection

Then—

In a single swift motion—

Waltz's free hand shot forward.

A syringe slammed into the Colonel's right arm.

The liquid inside was a hollow, lime green color—a strange, unnatural glow.

The Colonel's eyes widened.

His body immediately tensed.

And in that moment—he realized.

He had made a mistake.

The Colonel (Snarling, Furious):

"Waltz—what did you do?"

Waltz didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he simply stepped back, hands clasped behind his back, watching.

And then—

A simple response.

A whisper.

Waltz (Calm, Detached):

"You'll see."

And then—

The Colonel felt it.

A fire spreading through his veins.

An unnatural heat.

A mutation taking hold.

His fingers twitched.

His vision blurred.

And Waltz?

He simply watched.

Because this was only the beginning.

And soon—

The world would see what came after the Night Hunter.