SICARII

After a long and grueling boat ride, Taizen and Mionara set foot on Kirkian soil, greeted by the cool night air. Their journey wasn't over, though. With packs strapped tightly to their backs, they began their five-hour trek toward the battleground at Heaven's Gate. The rugged terrain stretched out before them, shadowed by the dim light of the moon.

As they jogged steadily, their breathing even and their footsteps crunching against the ground, Taizen broke the silence. "You ever wonder what it's going to feel like, being in the middle of all that chaos?"

Mionara glanced at him, keeping pace. "Yeah, I've been thinking about it nonstop. All the training we've done… I wonder if it's going to be enough. They always say war isn't just about strength. It's about endurance, strategy, and… surviving."

"Surviving," Taizen repeated, the word hanging heavy in the air. "We've faced death before, but it's been one-on-one or against small squads. This… this will be hundreds of soldiers, maybe thousands. I can't even picture it. What if we just get swallowed by it all?"

Mionara adjusted his gear as they continued running. "We stick together, that's how we avoid that. We keep our heads clear and fight like we've trained. We can't afford to freeze up out there."

Taizen let out a breath, nodding. "It's not fear that worries me. It's the unknown. I keep asking myself—what if it's nothing like we've prepared for? What if all the sparring, the simulations… what if it doesn't matter out there?"

Mionara smirked faintly, though his voice held a note of seriousness. "You think too much. The way I see it, war's just a bigger stage. We've already proven we can fight. All we have to do is take what we've learned and scale it up. Trust in your instincts, Taizen. You're a fighter. That won't change just because there are more people around."

Taizen chuckled softly, though his gaze remained forward. "I wish I had your confidence. You make it sound so simple."

"It's not confidence—it's focus," Mionara said, his tone steady. "We can't control how the battle unfolds, but we can control how we handle it. One step, one fight, one breath at a time."

Taizen considered his words, then nodded again. "You're right. As long as we're fighting side by side, I feel like we can take on anything. I just hope we're ready for whatever's waiting for us at Heaven's Gate."

They fell silent for a while, the sound of their footsteps blending with the rustle of the wind. As they drew closer to their destination, the air seemed to grow heavier, as if it, too, was bracing for the violence to come.

"Five hours of running before a battle," Taizen finally muttered. "By the time we get there, I'm going to need another nap."

Mionara let out a rare laugh, shaking his head. "No naps on the battlefield, Taizen. Stay awake. You might miss something important—like the guy trying to kill you."

"Fair point," Taizen said with a grin. "Guess I'll just have to rely on you to keep me alive, huh?"

Mionara smirked. "Always."

They pushed on, their resolve strengthening with each step. Heaven's Gate loomed ahead, and with it, the unknown terrors of war. But together, they felt ready to face whatever came their way.

The atmosphere was tense as Taizen and Mionara arrived at the Kirkian army barracks after their grueling five-hour run. The area was a chaotic blend of precision and disorder. Soldiers in green-and-gray combat gear moved briskly between rows of armored vehicles, their boots crunching against the gravel. Camouflaged tents housed field medics and command units, while massive supply crates were stacked high in organized chaos. The faint sound of gunfire echoed in the distance, mingled with the sporadic thuds of explosions that lit up the horizon with brief flashes of orange.

As they approached the main gates, they were met with a formidable barrier of steel and barbed wire, flanked by two heavily armed Kirkian soldiers. Each soldier carried rifles, their eyes sharp and suspicious beneath their helmets.

"Halt!" one of the guards barked, raising a hand to stop them. "Who are you, and what's your business here?"

Taizen stepped forward, speaking with measured calm. "We're Sicarii from the Beast Organisation. We've been sent to report to General Maddox."

The soldier's expression didn't soften, his rifle still held at the ready. "Sicarii, huh?" he muttered, glancing over at his partner. "Stay right there." He reached for the radio clipped to his vest.

"This is Gate Team. Inform General Maddox that the Sicarii have arrived," he said into the comms. There was a moment of static before a voice responded.

"Copy that. Hold them at the gate. General Maddox is expecting them."

The soldier nodded and turned back to Taizen and Mionara. "Alright, you're clear to enter. Wait here. Someone will escort you to the General shortly."

As the gates began to creak open, the pair exchanged a glance, their expressions steady but their muscles tense. They could feel the weight of the warzone pressing in around them as they prepared to meet the man who would guide them into their first true taste of battle at this scale.

Not long after they were cleared through the gate, a tall man approached them. He had a commanding presence, standing at least 6'4" with broad shoulders and a powerful stride. His face was weathered, with a sharp jawline and a scar running diagonally across his cheek, evidence of past battles. His dark brown hair was slicked back, and his piercing green eyes seemed to assess Taizen and Mionara in an instant. He wore Kirkian officer attire, complete with a fitted combat jacket and a tactical vest. Two holstered pistols hung low at his hips, their polished grips glinting under the faint floodlights of the barracks.

He stopped in front of them, his boots crunching on the gravel. "You two must be the Sicarii. I'm Officer Dain Carran, one of General Maddox's officers," he said, extending a firm hand. "I've been sent to escort you."

Taizen shook his hand first, followed by Mionara. "We're ready to assist however we can," Taizen said.

Carran gave a curt nod, his expression neutral but sharp. "Good to hear. Follow me."

As they walked through the barracks, Dain gestured around with subtle authority. "This is my unit," he said, motioning toward a group of soldiers gathered near a row of armored vehicles, checking their weapons and gear. They moved with precision, their discipline evident. "We've been holding the southern flank for the past two weeks. It hasn't been easy, but we're holding strong."

They passed a makeshift armory where soldiers were busy loading magazines and inspecting weapons, as well as a field hospital with medics rushing between cots. The sounds of controlled chaos filled the air—clanging metal, shouted orders, and the low rumble of engines.

After a few moments, Carran stopped and turned to them. "Listen up. General Maddox is giving a speech to the entire regiment before we march into battle. He'll be addressing the situation, laying out our objectives, and boosting morale. You'll meet him there."

Taizen glanced at Mionara, who nodded silently. "Where's the speech happening?" Taizen asked.

Carran pointed toward the center of the base. "In the staging area. Everyone's gathering there now. Stay close to me, and don't wander. This is war, Sicarii—it's not just about strength. It's about survival and precision."

He motioned for them to follow him again, leading them deeper into the heart of the base, where a crowd of soldiers had already started forming under the shadow of towering Kirkian banners.

As Taizen and Mionara stood amidst the sea of soldiers, their eyes were drawn to the stage where a man exuding both authority and gravitas commanded the room. General Maddox was in his early sixties, yet his presence made him appear larger than life. His silver hair, combed back with precision, glinted under the faint floodlights, and his piercing hazel eyes seemed to burn with an intensity that demanded respect. His face bore the lines of wisdom and experience, along with a jagged scar that ran down his left cheek—a testament to battles fought and survived. He wore a dark green uniform, decorated with medals that reflected decades of service and sacrifice, and the golden eagle insignia on his chest gleamed like a beacon of hope.

When he stepped forward to the podium, the murmur of soldiers and the faint echoes of distant battle were replaced by a heavy silence, thick with anticipation. Maddox gripped the sides of the podium, leaning slightly forward as if daring each individual to meet his gaze. The energy he radiated was palpable—an unshakable mix of determination, pride, and raw, unrelenting willpower.

"Soldiers of Kirkia," he began, his voice deep and resonant, carrying effortlessly over the gathered crowd. It was a voice hardened by decades of leadership, a voice that didn't just inspire—it demanded action. "Today, we stand at the precipice of destiny. Beyond those borders lies Heaven's Garden—land that is ours by right, land that is essential to the survival of our people, our families, and the generations yet to come."

The crowd shifted slightly, their spines straightening as his words sank in.

"For too long, the Winko forces have encroached upon our borders. For too long, they have dared to challenge Kirkia's sovereignty, dared to threaten the lifeblood of our nation. Heaven's Garden isn't just a patch of land. It's the fields that feed our people. It's the rivers that sustain our farms. It's the cradle of Kirkia's future!"

His fist slammed onto the podium, sending a sharp echo through the night. "If we lose Heaven's Garden, we lose more than territory. We lose our dignity, our strength, our very existence as a nation! But I'll tell you this: that's not going to happen. Not today. Not ever."

Maddox's eyes scanned the crowd, locking with individual soldiers, making each feel as though he were speaking to them alone. Taizen and Mionara, standing near the back, felt goosebumps crawl across their skin. Though they weren't Kirkians, the sheer power of his presence made their hearts race.

"Today, we write history. Today, we become legends. When your children and grandchildren ask what you did for your nation, you will be able to say, I fought. I bled. I won. And because of you, Kirkia stood strong. Because of you, Kirkia survived."

The soldiers around them began murmuring, their voices swelling with energy. Maddox straightened, raising his hand. "This battle will not be easy. Many of us will not return. But know this—every step we take, every blow we deliver, every sacrifice we make is for Kirkia! For the ones we love, for the ones who cannot fight, and for the generations who will live free because of what we do here today!"

His voice crescendoed, thunderous and unyielding. "So, I ask you: are you ready to fight? To reclaim what is ours? To show the enemy that Kirkia bows to no one?"

The regiment erupted into a deafening roar of cheers, their fists raised high in the air. The sound of boots stomping the ground in unison reverberated like thunder. Taizen and Mionara exchanged a glance, both overcome by the infectious energy coursing through the crowd. They weren't from Kirkia, but in that moment, they felt as if they were.

Mionara whispered, almost to herself, "I've never felt anything like this before."

Taizen nodded, his jaw set. "Neither have I. But now, I understand why they're fighting. This is bigger than us."

As the cheers continued, Maddox stood tall, his commanding aura radiating through the night like an unyielding beacon. "Remember, soldiers: this is our moment. This is our victory. For Kirkia!"

The crowd echoed his rallying cry, the sound so loud it seemed to shake the earth itself.