Battles Beyond (Book 1: The Fleeing Saga)

Grand Station (11)

Buoyed by repetitive turns and gusts, the hooded stranger climbed to his goal as his distracted enemies pursued to destroy each other's existence.

Reaching the top felt like no problem; his velocity told him so. He permeated the cyclonic winds that emulated a wall, thereby dulling visions and sounds of the relentless attacks against Zartzs. Majority of his physical makeup was now inside the twister. Only the fragment that was the vehicle lights peeked out. The feeble stem that held one of nature's most potent bringers of destruction somehow pronounced itself with an unappealing dark green.

The copper in his eyes met a figure staring at him. He didn’t know the name of said being. And Ees preferred it that way. He stood where the shadows hid him from view. White arch windows exposed a general frame, but too far to make distinctions.

He noticed the stranger in his safe space. This prompted the windows to swiftly vanish to dirty green and the thorns that shot from the stem pulled back from the base to reveal a fearsome set of Eight Barrel Capacity Rod Runners. Just before they charted predetermined paths, the rods were into sections as they left each barrel. No one could marvel at the paper-thin cutters that sliced every rod to perfection.

Almost copying a seamstress, the hooded stranger weaved in and out constantly. His ride neared its stop. The dual-sided sign said:

GRAND STATION,
THE HEADQUARTERS OF THE PLANETARY DEFENSE FORCE

He overshot Grand Station by one cycle. Despite this, the letters were sinking to his destination.

Grand Station was a location privy to heavy security. A camera picked up the stranger in his rapid descent.

"What that be boi?" A video specialist noticed a screen that glowed red at the perimeter.

"Merge the screens," DooDao’s purple form began to feel tension. It was like depressions had sunk into him.

They remained seated to witness this event. Weaponry was available at the opposite end for use if the worst comes. Some were on the wall, others were in chests and containers.

He touched down and all letters shattered at landing and returned to the space they always occupied above the hooded stranger. The soldiers at the entrance were startled. More came out to accompany them for the total defence of Grand Station.

The stranger’s prowess over him to hastened the Ees’ efforts to make a video call.

This being looked problematic. The War Troupe was enough trouble. For him, the Defence Force was being overwhelmed. He needed Ippe to respond as soon as possible.

* * *

A guard slammed his broken board game piece against the playing area. His harshness may have been the reason it was broken in the first place. In this game, which was a galactic race to the finish with obstacles, power-ups, and locations strewn across it, the level of competitiveness it brought out was often unhealthy.

"Nah dawg. You can't be moving so..."
The rowdy guards in the well-lit prison facility had Durin's left eye peeking. On the cell floor were his colleagues.

Despite not seeing their paltry condition in full, he could see a bruise on Teinova's cheek and small, impressionable holes throughout Zazavin's body. They were burning his insides little by little.

A force field deterred escape. He was famished, therefore food was required.

"Guards, can I have some food please?" He opened both of his eyes.

"Like you have manners. I go ask the chef to bubble up something nice for you."

"Thanks." Durin wondered if he should've awoken Zazavin and Teinova for lunch, but their state indicated otherwise.