SICARII

The path through Kirkia was narrow, cutting through dense greenery that seemed to stretch endlessly. Towering trees framed their way, their roots twisting across the ground like veins, forcing Taizen and the others to tread carefully. The air was thick with the earthy scent of moss and soil, mingling with the occasional sweetness of wildflowers blooming in patches of light where the sun pierced the canopy above.

Here and there, the jungle gave way to clearings where small villages nestled quietly. Wooden homes with sloped roofs stood amid neatly tilled farmlands, the soil dark and rich. Farmers moved methodically through their fields, tending crops with an unhurried grace. In one clearing, children played near a stream, their laughter ringing out like a distant melody.

Mionara, walking a few paces ahead, slowed his stride, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. "It's peaceful here," he remarked, though his tone carried a wariness that never left him.

"Too peaceful," Rachel muttered under her breath, brushing a low-hanging branch out of her way. "Makes it easy to forget what we're walking into."

Taizen glanced at a pair of villagers herding goats along a dirt path, their faces calm, untouched by the turmoil brewing beyond Kirkia. He couldn't help but feel a pang of envy for their simple lives. "You think they have any idea what's going on out there?"

Lino shook his head, his spear resting against his shoulder as he trudged along. "Doubt it. Places like this don't hear the first whispers of trouble. Only the echoes, long after it's too late."

The group pressed on, the jungle closing around them again as they left the village behind. The sounds of the forest—chirping insects, distant bird calls—seemed to grow louder, as though the land itself was alive, breathing alongside them. It was a world all its own, untouched by haste, though Taizen couldn't shake the sense that something darker was watching, hidden within the green.

A few hours had passed, and Lino signaled for the squad to take a brief pause. They settled on the forest floor, cross-legged, closing their eyes to focus on their inner energy. The humid air of Kirkia hung around them as they meditated, steadying their breaths and centering their minds. They were close now—close to where the kidnappers might be holding the hostage.

Taizen, having no use for meditation since he couldn't yet tap into his inner energy, used the time to focus on his body instead. Dropping to the ground, he began a series of push-ups, his movements sharp and purposeful. Switching to sit-ups, he worked at a steady pace, sweat glistening on his brow. Patience wasn't a natural virtue for him, but it was something he was learning—slowly.

Nearby, Mionara opened his eyes and glanced at Lino. "Lino, something doesn't add up to me." His voice was calm but inquisitive. "Kirkia and Winko share a border. If anything, shouldn't they be allies? What's got them at each other's throats all the time?"

Lino exhaled deeply, brushing a hand through his dark hair before responding. "It's not just about the border," he explained, his tone heavy with understanding and frustration. "There's a strip of land between the two countries called Heaven's Garden. Every stone, blade of grass, and tree in that area is infused with inner energy. No one knows how or why, but it's a resource so rich that neither side can resist it. That kind of power breeds conflict."

Mionara tilted his head, his expression contemplative. "And neither side's ever thought to share it?"

Lino snorted faintly. "Share? No. They'd rather bleed each other dry fighting for it. It's the kind of prize people would kill to claim."

Their conversation was interrupted as the others stirred, finishing their meditations. Lino stood and gestured to the group. "All right, we move. Stay sharp—we're not far."

They ran for nearly an hour, weaving through the dense jungle terrain with practiced ease. The towering trees gave way to an area more open, though still cloaked in Kirkia's wild greenery. The squad slowed, their senses on high alert as they scanned the surroundings.

It was Taizen who spotted it first—a patch of grass that seemed off, slightly raised, like it had been laid there deliberately. As he brushed the greenery aside, the edge of a metal door came into view, partially hidden but unmistakable.

"Looks like a bunker," Taizen muttered, standing back as Lino stepped closer to inspect.

Lino turned to the group, his voice firm. "We're going in. Rachel, take point. Mionara, cover our rear. Taizen, stick close to me."

They pulled the heavy door open with a creak that echoed ominously. Descending a narrow metal ladder, they found themselves in a vast underground space. The air was cool, damp, and carried an eerie silence. The initial chamber was massive, with walls of reinforced steel, but what stood out were the numerous tunnels branching out like the roots of a tree.

"Big place," Mionara remarked, his voice low.

"Too big," Rachel added, her sharp eyes scanning the dimly lit corridors. "They could be anywhere in here."

Lino nodded grimly. "We stick together. Stay focused. We'll clear it one tunnel at a time."

The squad readied their weapons, the faint hum of tension filling the bunker as they moved deeper into the unknown.

Lino considered the massive, branching tunnels for a moment before making his decision. "We'll have to split up," he announced, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "Mionara, Rachel, and Taizen—you take the left passage. I'll take the others and head down the right. There's no radio signal down here, so we'll rendezvous back here in two hours, no matter what. If you encounter the enemy, don't engage recklessly. Stay sharp. If it comes to a fight, don't hesitate—finish it quickly."

The group nodded in unison, their faces grim but resolute. Weapons in hand, they gave each other brief glances of encouragement before separating into the darkness of the tunnels.

Taizen followed Rachel and Mionara down the left passage, his senses on edge. The tunnel walls were constructed of rough, ancient stone, slick with dampness and streaked with dark patches of mildew. The air was cold and carried the faint metallic tang of rust and blood. Every few feet, they passed crude torches jammed into iron brackets, their weak flames casting flickering shadows that danced unsettlingly along the walls.

"This place is a graveyard," Taizen muttered under his breath as they stepped over scattered bones.

"Not just any graveyard," Rachel replied coolly, pointing toward the ground. Embedded in the dirt floor were cracked skulls, many with jagged fractures, as if they'd been bashed in with blunt force. Beside them lay rusted weapons—maces, spiked clubs, and jagged knives that looked as if they had been used until they broke.

"Signs of struggle," Mionara murmured, his hand tightening around the hilt of his blade. "Whoever built this place wasn't looking to house prisoners—they were running a slaughterhouse."

Rachel knelt beside a pile of discarded weaponry and picked up a crude, rusted axe, its edges chipped and uneven. She inspected it briefly before tossing it aside, the clang echoing down the tunnel. "These weapons weren't made for precision. They were meant to brutalize."

Taizen shivered at the thought, his fists tightening. "And now we're walking right into whatever they've left behind."

Meanwhile, Lino and his group made their way down the right-hand passage. This tunnel was narrower but just as foreboding. Lino's sharp eyes picked out symbols scratched into the stone walls—crude depictions of beasts and men locked in savage combat. The deeper they went, the darker the carvings became, showing piles of bodies, severed heads, and symbols that seemed almost ritualistic.

"This isn't just a hideout," one of Lino's squad members whispered. "It's like a shrine to violence."

Lino didn't reply, his focus locked on the end of the corridor, where the flicker of a faint light beckoned them forward. As they pressed on, they passed more signs of chaos—shattered chains bolted into the walls, as if something or someone had torn themselves free, and heavy stains on the ground that left no doubt about what had occurred here.

"Stay together," Lino ordered, his voice low but commanding. "And keep your eyes open. This place is designed to make us drop our guard."

Both groups ventured deeper into the labyrinth of tunnels, each step weighted with the tension of not knowing what lay ahead. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint crackle of torches and the soft shuffle of boots against the damp ground. Whatever awaited them in this underground fortress, it was clear that leaving unscathed was not going to be an easy task.