The door opened with a hiss, steam rolling forth from behind as Kieran stepped out, his hair slick and dripping with water that flowed down his torso, getting trapped by the towel that hung on his tapered waist.
After a battle like that, a shower was only in order. The wash room stank of blood and gri flowing off the bodies of the soldiers.
The warm water eased the tension on the stiff shoulders of the n, allowing a more welco atmosphere to flow.
The deaths of their comrades, though small in number was a saddening, but whatever rite needed to be perford would be done once they reached base and marked the mission complete.
Until then, they just had to stay still and enjoy the flight over the now empty plains of the planet.
The command ship had slowed down their speed for reasons brought up probably by the commander of Crescent.
An odd action.
You would think soone who had just escaped the jaws of death would be in a hurry to get back to the safest haven they could find, but what went on between commanders was no business of theirs.
The higher-ups of the Origin Camp must have been notified and granted approval of this decision now that they had left the range of the interference caused by the beasts.
’Another puzzling thing’
Kieran wondered, setting on the lower bunk of the space allocated to him.
The ship was designed for warti, and as vast as it was, its spaces each had a definite purpose.
There was nothing but a huge room with several bunk beds to accommodate the company of soldiers.
Kieran had picked one towards the edge of the room with less traffic and activity — a force of habit - but Derrick and Richard didn’t share his concern, settling in between the noisy shit chat of the soldiers.
Although they had yet to prove themselves to the company of seasoned soldiers, they had started to register in the perception of soldiers, gaining a nod or a stare lasting a second than usual for them.
Derrick’s soft and seemingly reserved nature had sohow settled more with the soldiers, in a way different from Kieran and Richard.
With nothing to do for the rest of the journey, the soldiers had gotten up to sothing to make their ti sowhat enjoyable before being smashed back into reality upon arrival at the camp.
Several gathering points had appeared in the hall, forming small enclosures, watching their comrades progress in a card playing competition they had set up randomly.
He was a bit intrigued by the ga he had never experienced or heard of before, but not enough to go observe them play.
On the other hand, he was more interested in the people they had rescued.
Camp Crescent was news to him, having only heard it for the first ti. August gave so details, but he wanted to find a recruit from the place and have a conversation with them.
A funny way of putting it, since the picture painted in his mind was more like that of an interrogation.
Alas, the rescued had been guided to the command ship, and he had no way to get to them.
Once they got back to base, they would imdiately be funneled away, and he would lose the chance to speak to any of them.
By the ti they were integrated into Origin’s forces, his curiosity would have died out.
At the end of the day, they had no appeal or value to his goals.
Kieran’s train of thoughts was disturbed by the violent shaking of the ship, almost kicking him off the bed and onto the floor on the side.
The disturbance was short, but it left them confused.
’A flying beast pack?’
He wondered if there would be a need to fight. The thought of fighting in air crossed his mind, leaving funny thoughts in his head.
Flight was sothing rare, an ability that inspired quite so amount of yearning from those who lacked it.
Only a few awakened could fly, regardless of Grade, either as a direct effect of their ability or a result of extre mastery and manipulation over an ability that was seemingly incapable — just like Josh who had gotten sothing not quite but similar to flight.
Kieran’s thought of a battle in the air was never going to happen, though. The ship had its own defenses and ways of attacking enemies encountered in the air.
Whatever it was that had caused the disturbance, they were likely not to encounter it again.
His words were instantly rendered invalid as the ship shook again, this ti more violently, lifting him off the bed and hurling into the fra of the bunk above him, before leaving him on the floor with his hand over his bleeding nose.
The turbulence left the entire hall in disarray. Several soldiers rolled on the floor, caught off guard, while so managed to grab onto the sides of the bed fras, keeping themselves from getting thrown about.
The intensity proved Kieran wrong. Maybe he would get the chance to witness a battle in the air this ti.
A chuckle left his lips at the thought. The only person he had ever seen capable of flight or anything remotely similar was his instructor, August.
He had no idea if the military had worked up an efficient way for normal soldiers to touch upon that realm beyond the use of fighter jets and similar crafts.
Alas, the words from the speaker tossed his thoughts to the side and dropped his heart to the pits of his stomach, leaving the other soldiers as pale faced as he had beco.
"We have encountered a level 2 storm!"
"I repeat, we have encountered a level 2 storm."
"Find sothing to hold onto. We might have to perform an ergency landing if it progresses into a level 3 storm."
The words from the command ship brought back the tension that had just dissipated and multiplied it several tis over.
There was a possibility they could die after all.
Storms on this planet were like a death sentence. Each one had attributes surpassing the volatile and extre weather of the planet.
The storm that had almost killed Kieran in his struggle to locate the camp back when he had been dumped on the planet was only a level 1 storm, and it was one of the kindest of that level.
The ships were designed to be able to handle storms up to level 2, but the ntion of a level 3 storm was what terrified them the most.
They knew what ntioning it ant — there was a high chance it was going to appear.
A level 3 storm was a destructive force of nature that even beasts, the natural inhabitants of the planets avoided.
It was the closest thing to a true elental storm outside the dead zone that no one dared step foot into.
The appearance of level 3 storms was as rare as it was unpredictable. There was no way to resist it. It was an automatic death sentence.
"We should be turning back, going in a different direction!"
A soldier said with a trembling voice, pulling himself up with the help of the bed fra beside him.
The soldiers, having stood on war grounds, fought against the sea of beasts for the sake of rescue was trembling as he felt his weight on his feet.
He couldn’t be blad. Even the senseless beasts would have the sa reaction, breaking the orders of the higher beasts to save their lives.
Kieran shared the fears of the soldiers, but he knew logically that their only way out was by continuing forward, pushing through the storm before it beca a level 3 one.
The ship was designed to handle level 2 storms, and if they were fast enough, they could escape it before it tastasised.
In this, Kieran saw the unsolvable issue.
Storms were a natural cause of interference, rendering most of their machines useless, especially it’s scouting ability.
The camp had used that to their advantage though they determined the size and path of a stormy by the size of its interference like a drop of black ink on a white paper.
Unfortunately for them, they had been caught in the storm, inside that drop of ink.
They had no way to tell the scale of the storm or what path it was headed on.
Turning back wasn’t an option either, considering the advancing beast army.
They had no choice but to push forward with nothing but hope in their hearts.
No matter how Kieran looked at it, only one thing appeared in his mind.
They were fucked.
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