Into The Rift

Cut From Humanity (27)

The cold air begins to diminish as the broadwing begins its descent from the sky, spurred on by a string of commanding words from its rider. The journey has eaten up a considerable portion of the day, and it was highlighted by the yellow hue of the setting sun behind my back.

From this point on it won't be a surprise to find traces of the conflict, both in the air and on the ground. We are well into the Red Zone, officially stated by Tartarus Command to be areas where 'both factions are confirmed to be engaged in active hostilities against one another'.

The evidence for this war can be seen slowly creeping into the horizon. Given the altitude, it was easy to estimate the scale of what was probably a previous engagement, a brief glance below the visage of the broadwing is all that is needed.

Pockets of smoldering black dot the ocean of greenery beneath. Above them rose pillars of smoke, haunting flares of grey against a blue canvas.

They serve not only as a solemn reminder of a past battle, but also an ugly scar to mother nature herself.

Massive formations of Alpha's troops can be seen gathering on the ground, their trademark red and white armored forms stretching for hundreds of meters. Up here in the sky, rallying cries can be heard from a squadron of banshees as they fly past my vision. Their sleek wings are spread out, hastily propelling their bodies towards the eastern horizon.

Even if I close my eyes, I can feel the suspense of war brimming in the air.

And to think the Expedition went about in the middle of it all, ignorant of the situation until the first contact. I feel somewhat sorry for their luck. Those lives were swept away, all because of a misunderstanding.

As the ground gets closer, a sense of familiarity hits me. This command post of theirs is really familiar. It takes several seconds to process the sight, and despite the differences in the lighting this place is undeniably the same from memory.

With a glint of recognition, James speaks out with a small undertone of intrigue, "This seems to be the Native Stronghold, looks like your hunch was right after all."

There was never a doubt in my mind about that educated guess. "Yeah, it can't be anything else. Though there is some noticeable damage to the perimeter walls," I shrug, "most likely due to an assault."

"Those aren't there last time we were here, but it's definitely site A. Layout matches perfectly with our Intel," he further comments, referencing the other official name of the Native Stronghold.

"Sachana Encampment," our rider unexpectedly remarks.

We both snap our heads to Myandra, "What was that?" I respond, mildly surprised at the seeker's words.

She points a finger down at our landing zone, entertaining our curiosity. "That is the Sachana Encampment, a military post on the eastern border of our nation, serving as a watchful eye against any unwanted incursions."

"Good to know...." I retreat to the inner confines of my head, adding another piece of the puzzle to my mental picture of the situation. With the piece in question being what she said.

Her words made it easy to deduce the general purpose of this base. It functions as an early warning system, more or less.

"So it's the first line of defense against an attack," I mutter out, beginning to understand why so much of the fighting was centered around this particular sector. "This place has significant strategic value...."

"Stra...tee...gic, what are you even speaking?" Judging from her tone, Myandra is utterly confused about my response. She turns her head towards me, barely visible eyes peering through the slits of her helmet.