Chapter 9: Dead road
The journey back to Pingyao was anything but smooth. The sky above was a perpetual gray, thick clouds hanging low and choking the air with the promise of more bloodshed. Alexander, Vincent, Ty, and Kane trudged through the dense forest, the ground beneath their feet slick with mud and littered with the remains of those who had met their end in this forsaken world. The weight of the Nether Core in Alexander's pack felt like a thousand souls dragging him down, an unholy burden he knew he had to bear.
The scent of death was everywhere, seeping into their clothes, clinging to their skin. It was impossible to escape. Even the wind seemed tainted, carrying the stench of decay and the echoes of the fallen. Bodies, twisted and mutilated, lay scattered across the forest floor like grotesque sculptures in a nightmarish gallery. Some were freshly slain, their blood still pooling in dark, sticky patches that glistened in the dull light filtering through the canopy above. Others were little more than decomposing husks, their flesh rotted away to reveal gnawed bones and empty eye sockets staring up at the uncaring sky.
Alexander's boots crunched over the remains of what had once been a man, his skull crushed beyond recognition. He glanced down, his face a mask of grim determination, but inside, he felt the familiar pang of guilt gnawing at his insides. This was war, and he had long since come to terms with the horrors that came with it. But every new sight, every fresh corpse, added another layer to the ever-growing burden of his conscience.
Ty walked beside Alexander, her eyes flicking to the dead every so often, but she didn't flinch. She was too hardened by battle, too accustomed to the sight of death. Still, the horror of it all hadn't completely dulled for her, and Alexander could see the pain etched in her features. She had seen too much, lost too much, but like the rest of them, she kept going because there was no other choice.
Kane, bringing up the rear, was a hulking figure of silent strength. His sword, still slick with the blood of their enemies, rested on his shoulder. He didn't say much, never did, but his presence was a comforting one. They knew he would cut down anything that dared to threaten them, just as he had done countless times before.
The forest seemed to stretch on forever, each step more grueling than the last. The silence between them was oppressive, filled only with the distant sounds of battle that echoed from somewhere far off—a reminder that the war raged on, even as they made their way back to Pingyao.
Suddenly, Vincent stumbled, catching himself on a tree. He looked down and swore under his breath. A young woman lay sprawled at his feet, her eyes wide open but unseeing. Her throat had been torn out, the wound jagged and cruel, and her blood had soaked into the ground beneath her.
"Goddammit," Vincent muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He knelt down and closed her eyes with a trembling hand. "She couldn't have been more than twenty."
"Keep moving," Alexander said, his voice tight. He hated how cold he sounded, how detached he'd become. But there was no room for weakness, not now. Not when they were so close. "We can't do anything for her."
Ty shot Alexander a look, but she didn't argue. They all knew the score. The dead were beyond saving, and the living had to carry on, no matter how much it hurt.
As they pushed forward, the bodies became more frequent, more gruesome. Soldiers from both sides, torn apart by gunfire and blades, lay tangled together in death. The brutality of the battlefield was on full display, a testament to the savagery that had consumed the world. Alexander felt a chill run down his spine. The Nether Core they carried was the key to something far greater, far darker than any of them had fully grasped, and it was leading them down a path paved with the dead.
They came to a clearing, and Alexander stopped, his breath catching in his throat. Before them was a mass grave, a pit filled with bodies piled atop one another like discarded refuse. The stench was overwhelming, a sickening blend of blood, rot, and something else—something unnatural that made his skin crawl.
Ty turned away, her hand covering her mouth as she fought back the bile rising in her throat. Even Kane, the unflinching warrior, seemed shaken by the sight. Vincent took a step back, his face ashen, and muttered a prayer under his breath.
"We have to keep going," Alexander said, his voice hardening. "Pingyao is just ahead."
But his words felt hollow, even to him. They all knew what awaited them there—more death, more destruction. The city was fortified, but for how long? And what would it take to finally break them?
They moved past the pit, leaving the dead behind, but the images were burned into their minds, haunting them with every step they took. The silence between them was now charged with unspoken fears, with the grim understanding that they were walking into something far worse than anything they had faced before.
As they neared the edge of the forest, the distant walls of Pingyao came into view, towering and imposing, yet offering little comfort. The city was a fortress, yes, but it was also a grave waiting to be filled. And they were the ones tasked with holding the line, with ensuring that the darkness they carried didn't consume the last remnants of their world.
Alexander felt the weight of the Nether Core on his back like a curse, its malevolent energy seeping into his very bones. He glanced at his comrades—Vincent, Ty, Kane—and knew that they shared the same dread. The battlefield they were about to enter was not just a place of blood and steel; it was the threshold of an abyss, a doorway to something beyond comprehension.
The road was long, and the night was closing in. But they had no choice. They had to keep moving, had to keep fighting. For the dead, for the living, and for whatever faint hope still lingered in the ashes of their world.
The closer they got to Pingyao, the more tension seeped into the air, thick and suffocating like the smoke that still lingered in the distance from battles fought just hours before. The city loomed ahead, a dark silhouette against the dying light, its towering walls a stark reminder that safety was no longer a guarantee in this war-torn world. But Pingyao was all they had left—a final bastion where hope clung on by the thinnest of threads.
As they approached the first security checkpoint, the atmosphere grew more charged. The sound of barking orders, the mechanical hum of heavily armed drones hovering overhead, and the distant roar of vehicles created a cacophony that added to their unease. Soldiers moved with purpose, their eyes sharp and unforgiving as they scanned everyone and everything. The four of them—Alexander, Ty, Vincent, and Kane—kept their heads low, knowing that any sudden move could be their last.
The first checkpoint was a mess of sandbags, barbed wire, and reinforced concrete barriers. Soldiers in dark, heavy armor, their faces obscured by helmets, stood with their rifles at the ready. The tension was palpable as the group came to a halt before the barricade.
"Halt!" A stern voice barked from a nearby loudspeaker, making the group freeze in their tracks. A soldier approached them, his visor reflecting their weary faces. "State your business and present your identification."
Alexander stepped forward, his hands slowly moving to pull out his ID. "Alexander Drayton, unit leader. We're returning from a mission with a priority item for the command center in Pingyao."
The soldier didn't lower his rifle as he gestured for Alexander to hand over the ID. He scrutinized the card with the intensity of someone who knew that even a small mistake could cost lives. The silence was thick, the only sounds being the distant crackling of radios and the occasional shout from another part of the checkpoint.
After what felt like an eternity, the soldier nodded, but the tension didn't ease. "Proceed to the second checkpoint. Do not deviate from the marked path, or you will be shot on sight."
They all knew better than to say anything. With a brief nod, Alexander led the group forward, and they walked through the checkpoint, the gate slamming shut behind them with an ominous clang.
The second checkpoint was worse. Here, the guards were even more heavily armed, and the atmosphere was electric with suspicion. As they approached, Ty could feel the eyes of a dozen soldiers trained on them, fingers itching on triggers. She forced herself to keep her breathing steady, but every instinct screamed at her to be ready to fight or flee.
"Stop!" A voice commanded as they reached the next barrier. "Weapons down, hands up!"
Alexander and the others complied, lowering their weapons to the ground and raising their hands. The guards didn't take any chances, patting them down roughly, their touch impersonal and cold.
"What's your cargo?" one of the guards demanded, his voice sharp.
"A classified item," Alexander answered carefully, not wanting to provoke them. "For the command center. We've been authorized to deliver it directly."
The guard's eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer, his breath hot and rancid. "And who authorized this delivery?"
"General Mei Ling," Alexander replied, holding the man's gaze. "You can confirm it if you need to."
For a long, tense moment, the guard seemed to consider this, his hand twitching near his sidearm. Finally, he grunted and waved them through. "Move it. And don't try anything funny."
The third checkpoint was a maze of concrete walls and automated turrets that tracked their every move. As they walked through, the tension in the air seemed to tighten like a noose around their necks. Kane's massive frame moved with practiced calm, but his eyes were constantly scanning their surroundings, noting every guard, every exit, every potential threat.
When they reached the checkpoint, the guards here were more thorough. They were taken aside and subjected to biometric scans, their identities cross-referenced with every database in the system. It was a humiliating process, one that stripped away the last shreds of dignity they had left after so many battles, but it was necessary. Trust was a luxury they could no longer afford in this world.
"Clear," a disembodied voice finally said after what felt like hours, and they were allowed to proceed.
The fourth checkpoint was eerily silent, the only sound being the soft hum of the security drones overhead. Here, the guards were fewer, but they were even more on edge. They had been at this for hours, and the strain was beginning to show in their eyes, their hands trembling slightly on their weapons.
"Open your packs," a guard ordered, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.
Alexander hesitated, knowing what he carried. "We have a secure item," he said carefully, trying to explain. "It's not safe to—"
"Open. Your. Packs," the guard repeated, this time with a deadly edge in his tone.
Knowing there was no other option, Alexander slowly unfastened his pack and revealed the Nether Core, its dark, pulsating energy barely contained by the protective casing. The guard recoiled slightly, clearly unsettled by the sight, but he didn't lower his weapon.
"What the hell is that?" the guard demanded, his voice trembling just enough for Alexander to notice.
"A classified asset," Alexander replied, his tone steady. "It's critical to the war effort. We need to get it to the command center immediately."
The guard looked as if he wanted to argue, but after a tense moment, he stepped back and gestured for them to move on. "Last checkpoint is up ahead. Don't cause any trouble, or I swear…"
Alexander didn't need to be told twice. He closed the pack and led his team forward, each step feeling heavier than the last.
Finally, they reached the fifth and final checkpoint. This one was a stark contrast to the others. It was more fortified, more secure, with layers of blast doors and advanced scanning equipment. But it was also quieter, the guards here veterans who had seen too much to be easily rattled.
As they approached, a commanding officer stepped forward, his sharp eyes taking in every detail of the group. He didn't ask for IDs, didn't bark orders. Instead, he simply stared at them, as if trying to peer into their very souls.
"You made it this far," he said after a long pause, his voice calm but carrying a weight of authority. "That tells me two things: you're either who you say you are, or you're the best damn liars in the world. Which is it?"
"We're who we say we are," Alexander replied, meeting the officer's gaze without flinching. "And we need to get this to the command center. Now."
The officer studied him for a moment longer before nodding slowly. "All right. But I'll be escorting you personally."
Alexander didn't argue. They needed to get this over with. The officer signaled to his men, and the massive blast doors slowly opened, revealing the interior of Pingyao—a city that was no longer a sanctuary, but a battlefield waiting to happen.
As they stepped through the final barrier, Alexander couldn't shake the feeling that the real danger had only just begun. The weight of the Nether Core seemed to grow heavier with each passing second, its malevolent energy whispering dark promises in the back of his mind.
But they had no choice. The journey wasn't over yet, and Pingyao was only the beginning.
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