Chapitre 27: Chapter 27: Shadows on the Plains
Out on the plains, under the sun's harsh glare, Boyka and Moyo moved with determination, trading their lingering fears for a glimmer of resolve. They understood that doubt had no place in their journey, for survival demanded clarity and purpose. The open land stretched endlessly before them, but they strode through it unyielding, knowing the only thing that would ever bring them back to Avalon was their undying will to fight and endure.
"We need to find cover," Boyka said, scanning the skies. "The last thing we want is to have our movements tracked by one of those drones." His eyes were sharp, darting between the clouds, ever wary of the unseen dangers overhead.
"You're right, my friend," Moyo agreed. His gaze followed Boyka's. "That cave up ahead should give us some shelter. And Boyka, tell me you remembered to bring those cookies. I'm starving."
Boyka allowed a small grin to cross his lips. "Yes, I have them. But I'm as hungry as you are, so let's get moving before either of us collapses."
The two men pressed forward, the entrance to the cave growing larger with each step. The cool shadows inside promised relief from the blazing heat and the constant threat of discovery. However, when they entered the cave, what they found left them both stunned.
A group of civilians—frail, gaunt, and visibly malnourished—huddled in the dark corners of the cavern. Their hollow eyes widened at the sight of Boyka and Moyo, recognition flickering across their faces.
"What's going on here?" Boyka and Moyo asked in unison.
One of the refugees, a woman with sunken cheeks and trembling hands, stepped forward. "Commander Boyka," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "We recognize you, sir. Your actions in the imperial palace have reached even the farthest corners of Avalon. When we heard of your defiance, we saw it as a sign to flee. Abbadon has proclaimed himself the new emperor. His rule is cruel and relentless. We couldn't endure it any longer. Many of us have lost our families—our children, our parents—to his brutality."
Her words trailed off as tears welled in her eyes, and the others nodded in agreement, their expressions a mix of desperation and hope.
Moyo clenched his fists, his rage barely contained. "What's wrong with this bastard?" he growled. "Why do these innocent people have to suffer like this? Why do they have to live in fear and starvation?"
Boyka remained silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on the refugees. Their plight stirred something deep within him—a mix of anger and sorrow he hadn't felt in years.
"Boyka," Moyo said, his voice firm. "We can't let this continue. We have to do something about this. We need to put an end to Abbadon's reign. No more waiting."
Boyka finally spoke, his voice steady but tinged with sorrow. "I hear you, Moyo. I hear all of you." He turned to the refugees, his gaze resolute. "I promise you this—when the time comes, we will end him. But we cannot act impulsively. Plans must be made, and we must be strategic. Rushing in without preparation will only get us killed, and I won't let that happen."
The refugees fell to their knees, tears streaming down their faces. They clung to Boyka's boots, thanking him profusely for his words, as if they were clinging to a lifeline in a storm.
Boyka sighed deeply. He reached into his bag and pulled out the small stash of food he and Moyo had brought with them. It wasn't much—barely enough for the two of them—but he handed it to the refugees without hesitation.
"Here," Boyka said, his tone gentle but commanding. "You need this more than we do."
"Boyka," Moyo said, his voice soft but concerned, "are you sure about this? You haven't eaten either."
"I can't sit here and fill my stomach while they starve, Moyo," Boyka replied, his voice firm. "We'll find more food later. For now, they come first."
The refugees accepted the food gratefully, their eyes shining with gratitude.
As they ate, Boyka turned to Moyo. "Listen," he said, lowering his voice. "I know you're angry—I'm furious too. But we can't let our emotions cloud our judgment. If we act rashly, we'll lose everything. We have to stick to the plan, no matter how long it takes."
Moyo exhaled, nodding reluctantly. "You're right, my friend. As much as I want to tear that tyrant apart, we can't afford to be reckless. But that doesn't mean we sit idle either."
Boyka smirked slightly. "Agreed. For now, let's focus on getting these people to safety."
---
The day passed slowly, the refugees huddled together in quiet conversation while Boyka and Moyo kept watch near the mouth of the cave. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the plains in shadow, Moyo broke the silence.
"Boyka," he said, "I've been thinking. We'll wait until nightfall, but once it's dark, we'll move. If we're careful, we can get these people off the planet without drawing attention. I've got a plan."
Boyka raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what's this plan of yours?"
Moyo grinned. "You'll see soon enough. Trust me on this one."
Boyka chuckled, the sound low and rough. "Fine. But if it doesn't work, I'm holding you responsible."
The two friends shared a rare moment of levity before settling down for the night. As they prepared to rest, Boyka glanced over at the refugees, their faces finally relaxed as they drifted into sleep.
"These people," Boyka said quietly, "they're counting on us. We can't let them down."
"We won't," Moyo replied, his voice equally soft. "We'll get them out of here. And when the time is right, we'll make Abbadon pay for everything he's done."
With that, the two men closed their eyes, their bodies weary but their minds resolute. The night stretched on, and the cave remained quiet, save for the steady breathing of those within.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, they rested, gathering their strength for the battles yet to come.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone