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THE SOUTH POLE

  Zika lifts the Zikagian Blade, swipes it clean through the air, precise and effortless, as if nothing happened.

  The desert falls silent once more. The spacecraft looms above. The man sits frozen, heart hammering, finally understanding the terrifying power of Zika and his Zikagian Blade.

  CHAPTER - 8: THE SOUTH POLE

  7:30 A.M.

  Chihuahua, Mexico

  Morning spreads slowly across northern Mexico.

  A pale gold sun rises over the dry horizon, spilling light across endless desert plains and distant mountain silhouettes. The air is still cool, but heat already waits beneath the surface.

  A lone train cuts through the vastness.

  Its steel body rattles along the tracks, moving steadily toward the state of Coahuila. The sound of metal grinding against metal echoes through the empty landscape, swallowed quickly by the open desert.

  Inside the train, silence reigns.

  Most of the passengers are asleep.

  Exhaustion has claimed them all.

  The train made its final stop in Chihuahua—just once, just long enough to gather medical supplies. Bandages. Antiseptic. Anything they could find for Mariana.

  Now the station is far behind them.

  Mariana lies across one of the narrow seats, wrapped carefully in fresh bandages. Her breathing is slow, fragile but steady. Strands of hair fall across her face as the train gently sways. For the first time in hours, she is at peace.

  Clive sleeps nearby.

  He is stretched against the wall, arms folded loosely across his chest. The tension that once hardened his expression is gone. In sleep, he looks younger. Lighter. As if, for a few hours, the world outside does not exist.

  But one person remains awake.

  Robin.

  He stands at the controls, eyes fixed on the tracks ahead. The early sunlight spills through the front window, casting long shadows across his face. Dark circles rest beneath his eyes. He hasn’t slept.

  He cannot.

  His hands grip the controls firmly, knuckles pale. Every vibration of the engine travels through him. Every distant shape on the horizon pulls his attention.

  Outside, the desert stretches endlessly.

  Inside, the silence feels temporary.

  Robin knows something the others don’t—or perhaps he simply feels it.

  The world is changing.

  And this train is moving straight toward it.

  China

  Night

  Darkness settles heavily over the village.

  No lights glow in the windows. No voices drift through the air. The wind moves softly between empty houses, carrying dust and the faint creak of loose metal sheets.

  He walks alone down the narrow road.

  His footsteps echo louder than they should.

  The village feels abandoned—frozen in the middle of an unfinished day. A bicycle lies on its side. A door swings slightly on broken hinges.

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  He stops.

  One house stands ahead of him with its front door half open.

  He stares at it from the road.

  The darkness inside looks deeper than the night outside.

  He hesitates.

  Then he moves.

  Each step toward the house feels heavier than the last. He reaches the entrance and pauses again, scanning the windows, listening for movement.

  Nothing.

  After a brief moment of thought, he pushes the door wider and steps inside.

  The air is stale.

  Cold.

  Abandoned.

  He moves slowly through the hallway, eyes adjusting to the dim interior. Furniture remains untouched. Shoes rest near the entrance. A cup lies shattered on the floor, as if dropped mid-motion.

  Like the rest of the world, this house is empty.

  He enters the living room.

  There—on a small wooden table—lies a phone.

  He freezes.

  Carefully, he approaches it, half expecting it to ring or explode or disappear.

  It doesn’t.

  He picks it up.

  The screen lights up instantly.

  No lock.

  No password.

  Just an open device left behind in a hurry.

  His thumb moves quickly. He opens the news app.

  The signal is weak, but old articles load.

  A headline appears.

  Several days old.

  “Aliens Calling Themselves ‘Beings’ Have Taken 7 Billion People.”

  His breath stops.

  His eyes scan the article rapidly. The words blur together—global disappearances, mass abductions, coordinated extractions across continents.

  Seven billion.

  Gone.

  His face tightens. Shock spreads across his features. His jaw stiffens. His fingers tremble slightly against the screen.

  But he keeps scrolling.

  Another headline loads.

  Older.

  “Beings Avoid Bhuj, Capital of Kutch District, India.”

  His eyes narrow.

  He reads.

  Reports claim the Beings are not invading Bhuj. A small unit of them entered the region—but only a few returned.

  The rest were killed.

  Even humans who have allied themselves with the Beings refuse to enter that area.

  He lowers the phone slowly.

  Outside, the wind rises again, brushing against the windows.

  Seven billion taken.

  And one place they avoid.

  For the first time since the invasion, a direction appears.

  India.

  Bhuj.

  In the silence of the empty house, something shifts inside him.

  Not fear.

  Purpose.

  Kashmir, India

  Night

  The mountains are silent under a frozen blanket of snow. Frost clings to every leaf, every branch, glinting faintly in the dim moonlight. The air is sharp, biting, but calm—too calm.

  Outside a modest house, in the garden that’s half-buried under snow, a figure sits quietly. Sixty-year-old Zoon, a man with silver hair and eyes that have seen too much, breathes in the cold night air.

  Beside him, one of the Beings perches like a shadow. Its form is humanoid but unsettling—tall, slender, with an aura of restrained power. It tilts its head slightly, observing, waiting.

  “What should we do, sir?” the Being asks, voice low but precise, almost mechanical in its rhythm.

  Zoon exhales slowly, the frost misting in the air between them. His gaze drifts over the snowy garden, over the mountains that hide the rest of humanity, still unaware, still vulnerable.

  “We have to do a mass attack,” he says. His voice is calm, but it carries weight—an authority shaped by decades of knowledge and intent.

  The Being frowns, or at least its version of a frown—its face is unreadable. “What?”

  Zoon turns his eyes toward it, and for a moment the night seems to still around them. “There are still one billion people remaining on the continents,” he says. “We cannot leave them. To abduct them… we must strike hard. A mass attack if necessary. Precision. Efficiency. No hesitation.”

  The Being nods slowly, the snow crunching beneath its feet. Silent agreement passes between them, a plan forming in the frozen night.

  Above them, the stars seem distant, indifferent witnesses to the scale of what is about to unfold.

  The calm night is a thin veil. Soon, it will shatter.

  North Pole

  Zaya is sitting quietly. Beside her, a woman sits and sees Zaya, asking,

  “Hey, you are alone. I mean you are alone here.”

  “Yeah,” Zaya replies.

  The woman asks, “So, it means your family is safe. right?”

  “I...I don't know,” Zaya says again, fear on her face, tears lingering at the corners of her eyes.

  The woman asks again, “I... I am sorry. But, then what happen with them?”

  Zaya whispers, “I... I don't know, I was alone in New York. And... and my husband was gone to travel Mexico, but after a day when he gone. They come and abduct me. And I don't know that what happen with him.”

  Her eyes glisten with the tears she cannot hide, fear written clearly across her face.

  Meanwhile in South Pole

  She, mother of Seo-ah, sits on the ground of the hall created by the Beings. She holds her husband’s hand, head resting on his shoulder.

  She asks, “My daughter will be safe?”

  “Yeah, she will be,” he replies.

  She looks at him again, voice trembling. “I… I want her.”

  “I also want her,” he says softly, “but we have to be patient. She is safe… after all, she is Seo-ah.”

  At their right side, another family sits. A woman holds her daughter between her legs.

  They are Dae-hyun’s family.

  The little girl sits quietly, calm, unaware or perhaps unfazed by the chaos around her.

  Her mother watches, eyes wide with fear and shock, shoulders heavy with despair. The weight of what has happened presses down on her, leaving her frozen in silent depression.

  Two Beings enter the hall.

  One of them holds Seo-ah’s hand between their fingers. She stays silent, walking calmly alongside them.

  The Being leads her onto the stage. Seo-ah climbs up gracefully, eyes steady. In front of her, all the humans sit watching—her parents among them.

  She spots her mother in the crowd. Her eyes widen. She lets out a loud cry:

  “Mom!!”

  Without hesitation, Seo-ah leaps off the stage and runs toward her.

  Her parents rise to their feet, recognizing her. They begin moving toward her, but Seo-ah reaches her mother first. She throws herself into her mother’s arms, tears streaming down her face.

  Her mother kneels to embrace her, holding her tightly.

  “I… I missed you, Mom,” Seo-ah says, sobbing.

  “I missed you too,” her mother whispers, voice trembling.

  Her father watches, standing nearby, his gaze fixed on them. He steps closer slowly.

  Seo-ah looks behind her, still hugging her mother, and sees her father. She turns, wrapping her arms around him as well.

  “I love you, Dad,” she says through her tears.

  “I love you too,” he replies, voice thick with emotion.

  Across the hall, Dae-hyun’s wife and daughter watch silently. The little girl’s eyes find her mother, and a small, shy smile spreads across her face. Her mother meets her gaze, smiling back gently.

  The girl tilts her head and asks,

  “when dad will come?”

  Her mother strokes her hair and replies softly "Wait, dad will come”

  After a while, Seo-ah sits peacefully with her family. The fear that once haunted her and her parents has vanished—because now, they are together.

  Her mother breaks the quiet, asking,

  “Well, Seo-ah… where were you hiding all these days?”

  “I was with an uncle,” Seo-ah replies softly. “He hid me and kept me safe.”

  “Uncle?” her mother asks, surprised.

  “Yeah. Uncle… his name is Dae-hyun,” Seo-ah says.

  Dae-hyun’s wife and daughter watch them quietly.

  Yu-jin, Dae-hyun’s wife, quickly steps forward, holding her daughter. She asks Seo-ah,

  “Dae-hyun? Did you meet a Dae-hyun in Seoul?”

  Seo-ah’s mother turns to Yu-jin, confused. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Yu-jin,” she says calmly. “And the Dae-hyun this girl mentioned… he is my husband.”

  “What?” Seo-ah’s mother gasps.

  Yu-jin steps closer to Seo-ah. “Please… can

  you tell me… who Dae-hyun is, and is he from Seoul?”

  Seo-ah nods, her voice firm but calm. “Yes, he is from Seoul. He helped me survive. I was with him, hiding… but then they caught me.”

  — — — — TO BE CONTINUED — — — —

  CHAPTER - 8, PART - 2

  Written & Created by

  DARK_Novels_

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