CHAPTER 44: TIME TO EXTRACT

Ward led them away from the food stalls once everyone had eaten their fill. Ragna moved slower than usual, partly from awe, partly from digesting half a tray of fried chicken. Mira walked with her eyes darting everywhere, trying to memorize each strange detail, each unfamiliar device. Lyris stayed quiet, straight-backed, alert—her hunter instincts in conflict with her curiosity.

Albert matched their pace. This time, he kept his hands folded behind him, more like a commanding officer on an inspection than a host giving a tour.

"Stay close," Ward said. "This area is safe, but it’s active."

"Active how?" Mira asked.

Ward looked at her. "Meaning things here move. Machines. Cargo. Personnel. If you wander off, something might run you over."

Ragna scoffed. "What kind of person gets run over inside their own home?"

A loud horn blared.

An Atlas forklift rolled past hauling a massive crate—a crate bigger than half a horse cart. The driver waved lazily to the group. The adventurers froze on instinct.

"...oh," Ragna muttered.

They continued walking.

Aldo was unrecognizable. Even the air felt different—cleaner, fresher, mixed with the faint smell of fuel instead of livestock and dirt. The paved road stretched forward in straight lines, splitting into evenly spaced intersections. Every corner had a pole with lights that looked like glowing crystals, except they weren’t magic.

"These lamps," Lyris said. "No flame?"

"Electricity," Albert said.

"And that is?"

Albert shrugged. "A kind of controlled energy. Like lightning, but safe."

Mira nearly tripped. "Lightning? You’re walking on lightning? Storing lightning? Using lightning?"

Ward grinned. "You’ll get used to it."

Ragna muttered, "I don’t think I want to get used to anything that stores lightning."

They passed what used to be the center of the village. The well was gone—replaced by a rectangular building with glass doors that opened automatically when two soldiers stepped through.

Lyris jumped back. "It moved on its own!"

"That’s a door," Ward said. "Relax."

"Doors don’t do that."

"Ours do."

The building had a sign above it—HUMANITARIAN CENTER—written in bold black letters.

Mira pointed. "Is that your language?"

"Yes," Albert said. "It means this is where we treat civilians. Medicine, shelter, food supplies."

"And the villagers?" Lyris asked.

"Inside," Albert answered. "Resting, recovering. They’re not our prisoners."

Lyris absorbed that quietly.

A group of villagers walked out just then, escorted by two Atlas medics. They wore clean clothes—simple shirts and pants, but new. One man had a bandage wrapped around his arm; the woman beside him carried a paper bag with warm food inside.

When they noticed Lyris, Mira, and Ragna, their faces lit up with recognition.

"Lyris! Mira!" the woman called. "Ragna!"

The trio stiffened.

The villagers hurried over.

"We heard the Adventurer’s Guild sent people," the man said. "We didn’t think it would be you."

Mira stepped forward. "Are all of you... treated well?"

"Oh, yes," the woman said. "The healers here are incredible. They use strange tools, but they work. And the food—by the Goddess—the food is unbelievable."

Ragna perked up. "Right?!"

Albert gave a tiny, amused exhale.

"We are assigning temporary shelter until reconstruction finishes," one medic explained. "You’ll see the site soon."

After a brief exchange, the villagers continued on. The trio watched them go, visibly relieved. The fear of Aldo being enslaved or abused—common among kingdoms dealing with conquerors—disappeared a little.

Ward resumed walking. "Come on. Command is almost ready."

They moved toward the southern part of the base.

This area looked different.

Not built-up like the central plaza. Instead, it was rows of neatly assembled temporary shelters—military tents, modular metal cabins, and repurposed structures. Smoke drifted from a controlled burn pit where waste was being disposed of. Solar panels lined one row of cabins, absorbing sunlight.

Ragna pointed. "Those are... what? Metal huts?"

"Barracks," Ward said. "Sleeping quarters."

"And these symbols painted on them?" Lyris asked.

"Unit numbers. Section designations."

"No runes?"

"No magic."

Mira shook her head slowly. "You people are terrifying."

They walked past a workshop where engineers surrounded a Humvee with its hood open. Tools clinked. Sparks shot upward as one of them used a grinder on a piece of metal. Ragna winced and shielded her eyes.

Another corner of the base held a fenced-off area with stacks of ammunition crates. Soldiers carried them with practiced ease.

Mira whispered, "So much metal..."

"That’s nothing," Ward said. "This is only a Forward Operating Site. Our main base makes this look like a barn."

Albert shot him another look.

Ward shrugged. "They’ll find out eventually."

Lyris’ gaze drifted again toward the industrial zone.

"Atlas seems very... structured," she said quietly. "Your people move with purpose. No wasted steps."

"That’s the idea," Albert said.

She met his eyes. "Your world must be very harsh to require this level of... discipline."

Albert didn’t respond. But the silence told them enough.

They passed a children’s area cordoned off with caution tape. Bright balls, small toys, and blankets were scattered inside. Several Atlas medics supervised the kids—many of them Aldo children—who were playing without fear.

Lyris paused, a hand pressed to her chest. "They’re safe..."

"They’re children," Albert said. "Our rules for them are simple: don’t scare them, don’t yell at them, don’t touch their food."

"Why food?" Ragna asked.

"Last time someone tried taking a kid’s cookie," Ward answered. "Three other kids bit him."

Albert sighed. "You weren’t supposed to tell that story."

"They won," Ward insisted.

Mira’s lips twitched.

Finally, they reached a large metal structure near the southern wall. Unlike the makeshift shelters, this building looked permanent—reinforced steel frame, ventilation fans, security cameras, and a sealed blast door.

Above it, a glowing sign: COMMAND & OPERATIONS CENTER.

The adventurers halted.

"This," Albert said, "is where you’ll receive your briefing."

"But first," Ward added, "we’ll show you something you should see."

He tapped his wrist mic.

The blast door hissed loudly as it unlocked. A second later, it rolled open smoothly.

Inside was a massive room filled with screens—screens showing maps, troop movements, charts, coded data streams. Military analysts sat at stations with headsets. Officers monitored the displays. A central holographic projector cast a faint blue light upward.

Ragna whispered, "This is sorcery."

"No," Albert said. "This is command."

They were led to a raised platform overlooking the operations floor.

Ward pulled up a screen.

A rotating holographic model appeared—red landscape, black spires, swirling energy.

"The Demon Lord’s territory," Ward said. "At least, according to early reports."

The adventurers froze.

Lyris stepped closer. "That... is accurate. The spires. The corrupted land. But how—how do you know that shape? You said you needed information."

"We do," Albert said. "This is just a placeholder model. Standard estimation based on environmental descriptions."

Mira stared. "You created a map from nothing but descriptions?"

"Rough map," Albert corrected. "Incomplete. That’s why you’re here. The machine that took that data was shot down by one of their units."

Ragna crossed her arms. "You want details. About the Demon Lord’s generals. About their armies."

"Everything," Albert said. "Anything."

Mira exhaled slowly. "This... is far more serious than we expected."

Albert nodded. "For you, this is a centuries-old threat. For us? It’s new. And new problems require full information before we decide how to deal with them."

Lyris looked between them—Albert, Ward, the analysts—the humming machines, the glowing maps.

"You really intend to fight the Demon Lord."

Albert clasped his hands behind him again.

"We don’t intend to lose."

Silence followed.

Long, heavy, tense.

Finally, Ragna cracked her knuckles.

"Fine," she said. "We’ll tell you everything. But in return, you explain more about your weapons. Your machines. Your lightning doors."

Ward muttered, "Lightning doors?"

Albert gave up trying to keep a straight face.

"Briefing starts now," he said. "After that, you’ll get your answers."

The door sealed shut behind them.