The speeder flies across the open landscape, and I can't help but feel a growing sense of dread. Ryu navigates the speeder at a lower height, weaving through the treetops until he brings it to a stop within the tree line, not far from the elven village. The canopy above provides natural cover, masking our approach. As the glass panel slides open, we all unbuckle and step out, our senses immediately assaulted by the distant cries and laughter carried on the wind.

  "What's the plan?" Talia asks, her voice tinged with worry as she glances towards the village, her expression taut with concern.

  Ryu looks at IG-22, his face hidden in the shadow of his hood, but his tone is commanding and clear. "IG-22 will approach the village through the southern entrance and distract those soldiers. But remember," he says turning to IG-22, his voice firm, "just the soldiers. Stun their leader and don't harm or stun the villagers. Understand?"

  "Affirmative," IG-22 responds in its hollow, monotone voice, before striding purposefully towards the village.

  I watch the golem move with a mixture of awe and trepidation. I'm still processing the reality of what's happening, my mind racing. "What will we do?" I ask, my voice betraying my nervousness.

  Ryu's expression darkens slightly, his tone carrying a weight that makes me both reassured and apprehensive. "We will enter the village from a different way."

  I blink, a flicker of uncertainty stirring within me. "What do you mean by a different way?"

  Ryu's gaze is unwavering as he turns to Nikko and DP-7. "DP-7 will stay here with Nikko and guard the speeder. I want you to stick close and be ready for anything."

  Nikko's ears twitch, and she looks up at her father, her voice small but firm. "Papa, I want to come with you. I can help!"

  Ryu kneels, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. "I know, Nikko. And I trust you. But right now, I need you to keep DP-7 company and protect the speeder. That way, if anything happens, I'll know it's safe with you."

  She hesitates, looking between Ryu, Talia, and me, before nodding with a serious expression. "Okay, Papa. I'll keep it safe."

  Nikko hugs Ryu tightly, and he returns the embrace, brushing his hand over her hair. Then she turns and wraps her arms around Talia, who gives her an encouraging smile, patting Nikko's back in reassurance.

  I catch Ryu's eye just before we turn to leave, feeling a surge of unexpected worry. "Be careful, all of you," Nikko says, her voice quiet but filled with concern.

  "We will," Ryu replies, giving her a small nod that, even with his expression hidden, conveys his reassurance.

  With that, DP-7 rolls closer to Nikko, whistling softly as it takes its position by the speeder, its photoreceptor fixed on us. As we begin moving toward the village, I keep my steps light, already feeling the tension rise.

  ?????

  Meanwhile, Llamiryl kneels in the temple, her eyes closed, her voice blending with the other priests as they chant their prayers before the statue of Lytharia for the safety of her people. The serene atmosphere is abruptly shattered when the large wooden doors burst open with a resounding crash. Many soldiers flood in, led by a taller and more muscular figure. His presence exudes malevolence, his scarred face and cold eyes radiating cruelty and power. He wears a dark, ornate armor that marks him as someone of high rank.

  Llamiryl rises to her feet, her calm demeanor unwavering as she turns to face them. The other priests follow suit, their expressions mirroring her composed resolve. "There you are," the large soldier sneers, his voice dripping with contempt. With a wave of his hand, his troops surge forward, roughly grabbing Llamiryl and the other priests. "Search the rest of the temple. I want every priest outside," he commands, his voice a bark of authority.

  The soldiers drag Llamiryl and the others out of the temple, their iron grips unyielding. Several more priests and priestesses are dragged out. The sight that greets them outside is one of sheer devastation. The once peaceful village is now a scene of chaos. Flames lick at the wooden structures, thick black smoke billowing into the sky. Villagers scream in terror as soldiers ransack homes, dragging women and children into the streets. Those who resist too much are cut down mercilessly, their bodies left in the dirt.

  The large soldier stands before Llamiryl, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "You see this?" he says, gesturing to the destruction. "This is but a taste of what will happen to your pitiful kingdom. The reason you are still breathing is because my lord wants some answers from you," he continues, his voice cold and menacing. "It has come to his understanding that you have encountered four wanted criminals that you have aided recently."

  As the large soldier sneers beside her, Llamiryl forces herself to keep her gaze steady, even as flames rise and cries echo from the terrified villagers. Her jaw clenches as she watches the brutality unfold—soldiers tossing torches into homes, dragging children, elderly, and women out into the open. Those who resist are cut down without hesitation, their throats slit in cold, calculated violence. The sight is enough to turn anyone's stomach, but she keeps her composure, focusing on the moment at hand.

  The sharp snap of fingers draws her attention back to the soldier beside her. He wears a smug smile, his eyes chilling and unyielding.

  "Don't worry about all this," he taunts, his grin widening. "I want to know where these criminals are."

  "They're not here," Llamiryl responds calmly, her voice unwavering despite the chaos around her.

  The soldier's smile fades, his hand moving in a quick, brutal arc as he backhands her across the face. The sting is sharp, a wave of pain that pulses through her cheek. She meets his cold gaze, defiantly refusing to flinch.

  "I don't like smart mouths," he growls, his voice dripping with malice. "Where are they? Where are they heading? My lord does not tolerate liars."

  "Your lord?" Llamiryl's voice is icy as she meets his gaze. "Do you mean King Bjorn or the Shadowfell?"

  His smirk returns, a dark gleam in his eyes, and he snaps his fingers. Immediately, a soldier drags one of the priests forward and, with a swift, ruthless motion, slits their throat. The priest crumples, blood pooling around her body, and cries of anguish fill the air from the remaining clergy.

  Llamiryl's eyes harden, and she looks the soldier dead in the eye. "You are a monster."

  The large soldier's grin widens at her defiance, clearly relishing her defiant words. "Oh, you think so? And here I thought I was just doing what was necessary," he says, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "To bring a little order... a little respect. But it seems you're slow to understand."

  He snaps his fingers again, and Llamiryl braces herself as another priest is dragged forward, awaiting his grim fate. Suddenly, a red bolt of energy strikes the soldier in the head, and he falls dead. All eyes turn to the direction of the shot. The chaos momentarily halts as a thin silhouette appears through the thick smoke at the broken city gate.

  Whiny footsteps echo, and Llamiryl feels a flicker of hope mixed with fear as the figure comes into view. As the figure clears the smoke, Llamiryl realizes she recognizes that being. It's IG-22, the droid from Ryu's memories. The droid strides forward, two identical weapons attached to its back, which Llamiryl recognizes as blasters.

  The droid's hollow, monotone voice breaks the silence, slicing through the tension. "Soldiers of Eldoria," it declares, "surrender at once and submit yourselves, or prepare to face severe consequences."

  The village falls eerily silent, the only sounds being the crackling flames and the heavy breathing of Llamiryl and her priests. Then, the soldiers begin to laugh, a cruel, mocking chorus. The large soldier steps away from Llamiryl, a sneer on his face. "What are you going to do, little golem?" he taunts. "I have hundreds of soldiers here, an entire garrison against you."

  IG-22's red eyes fixate on the large soldier. "Are you the leader?" it asks.

  The soldier chuckles. "I am."

  In a flash, IG-22 draws both blasters and fires. Two blue rings of energy hit the large soldier, who collapses, seemingly dead. The laughter dies instantly, replaced by a tense silence as soldiers reach for their weapons, their faces now etched with fear and determination.

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  The droid remains motionless, a stark, ominous figure. IG-22's sensors pick up a faint rustle from above, and without a second's hesitation, the droid whirls to fire at a nearby rooftop. The red bolt travels across the open square, striking down an archer just as he raises his bow. Arrows whiz past the droid, barely grazing its alloyed frame, but it responds by swinging both blasters around, snapping off shots with unnerving speed. Each bolt finds its mark, toppling archers before they can draw another arrow.

  The soldiers below don't falter, though their faces betray a growing sense of dread. Clad in dark, worn armor and wielding a mishmash of weapons, they surge forward with sheer desperation. But IG-22 meets them head-on, shifting into a fluid rhythm. Blasters raised, it moves with cold precision, spinning to face each attacker in a precise pattern that mirrors the chaos of the battlefield.

  One soldier lunges with a spear, his boots crunching on the gravel as he closes in. IG-22 sidesteps, angling its blaster downward and firing a shot directly into the soldier's torso. The soldier staggers back, clutching his chest, before he crumples, lifeless. Another soldier rushes from the left, swinging a heavy axe, but the droid doesn't miss a beat—turning swiftly, it fires a bolt into the attacker's arm, disarming him in a single, brutal shot. The soldier cries out, dropping to his knees, but IG-22's focus has already shifted.

  Across the square, a group of soldiers attempts to surround the droid, their faces determined despite the bodies of their fallen comrades scattered around them. "Form a line!" one of them shouts, rallying his companions. "Move together, take it down!" They charge in a loose formation, each wielding a weapon poised to strike.

  IG-22 calculates their movements in an instant. It sidesteps, aiming its blasters in separate directions, and unleashes a rapid series of shots. The bolts sizzle through the air, striking down two soldiers at once before they can reach it. Another swings his sword wide, hoping to catch the droid off guard, but IG-22's arm twists in an uncanny motion, firing a bolt that stops him mid-swing. The soldier stumbles, dropping his weapon as he collapses.

  More soldiers pour from the nearby alleys, their faces set with grim determination. Some glance nervously at the villagers, who now watch the skirmish from behind overturned carts and doorways, some even daring to peer out from windows. IG-22's blasters fire again, leaving smoldering craters in armor and skin alike, and the air grows thick with the acrid scent of burning metal and flesh.

  From the rooftops, the last few archers ready their bows, hoping to strike from above while the droid is occupied below. IG-22 pivots, its photoreceptors locking onto the movements, and before any arrow is released, it fires two precise shots. The archers drop from the rooftops, their bows clattering beside them. Each fall sends a shockwave through the watching villagers, who gasp and murmur, some clutching each other in awe and horror.

  With each second, the soldiers' attempts grow more desperate. A burly man, his face contorted in rage, charges at IG-22 with a large hammer held high. He swings down with all his might, but the droid moves back fluidly, evading the blow with inhuman speed. It raises one blaster and fires a single shot that strikes the man squarely in the chest, sending him sprawling.

  Despite the mounting losses, the soldiers show no signs of retreat. They call to each other, shouting curses and rallying cries, their voices echoing across the square. One soldier, his armor gleaming in the moonlight, charges forward with a defiant yell, only to be struck down by a red bolt before he takes his second step.

  Amid the carnage, a group of villagers tries to flee, but they're stopped by soldiers who hold them at sword point, using them as shields. One of the soldiers drags a young woman forward, her face streaked with tears. "Let's see you shoot now!" he sneers, his sword pressed to her throat.

  Llamiryl, who had been watching with a mixture of dread and awe, gasps at the sight. She takes a step forward, but IG-22's photoreceptors flash, focusing on the soldier's face. The droid pauses, recalculating, its gaze unyielding. In a flash, it fires three shots in rapid succession. The bolts hit the soldiers, sparing the hostages, who stagger back in shock as their captors fall around them.

  IG-22 turns back to the main group of soldiers, which has thinned significantly. Yet a few still press forward, driven by a mix of fear and fury. A soldier swings his sword wildly, his face twisted in terror. The droid sidesteps, firing a bolt that cuts the man's scream short, leaving him sprawled on the ground.

  Llamiryl, standing nearby, clenches her fists, watching the droid's every move. She feels a pang of horror as it takes down soldier after soldier with cold precision, but a part of her also recognizes the twisted relief she feels. The droid, a creature she barely understands, has become an unlikely protector for this village, a silent guardian in the chaos.

  The ground around IG-22 is littered with bodies, yet the droid stands undeterred, its blasters still trained on the remaining soldiers. A few villagers who had been hiding now peer out, drawn by the relentless spectacle. They whisper in hushed tones, some murmuring prayers, others simply watching in stunned silence as the droid holds the line.

  One last group of soldiers, clutching their weapons with shaking hands, attempt a final charge. But IG-22's sensors detect them instantly. It pivots smoothly, firing a series of shots that strike each one with unerring accuracy. The soldiers fall in quick succession, their weapons clattering to the ground.

  The village square falls silent, the only sounds the soft murmurs of the villagers and the distant crackling of torches. IG-22 scans the area, its photoreceptors flashing as it verifies that the threat has been neutralized.

  The droid continues its relentless advance, each shot precise and fatal. Villagers who had been used as shields collapse in relief as their captors fall, blood pooling at their feet. Some of the villagers who had watched in awe begin to cheer, a hopeful spark igniting in their eyes at the sight of the soldiers being defeated.

  Despite the chaos, IG-22 remains a figure of cold efficiency. It moves through the village with purpose, its blasters eliminating any soldier that crosses its path. The villagers' fear of the droid begins to wane, replaced by gratitude and cautious hope as they realize it is their protector. The droid's deadly dance continues, ensuring that no soldier escapes its wrath.

  ?????

  Ryu, Talia, Apollo, and I meanwhile, are moving underground, the tunnel dimly lit by a glowing orb of light Talia has summoned. The air is cool and damp, and the tunnel seems to form with every movement of Ryu's hand. I'm baffled, unable to comprehend how he manipulates the earth without using any visible spells or incantations. The walls shift and shape themselves as if by some invisible force, responding to Ryu's will alone.

  Strange sounds echo through the tunnel, a series of sharp, rhythmic blasts followed by cries of pain and terror. "Is that..." I start, my voice trailing off as I try to place the noise.

  "That is IG-22," Ryu confirms, his tone calm and matter-of-fact.

  "Thought so," I murmur to myself, feeling a mixture of relief and dread. Part of me is thankful not to witness the carnage firsthand, but a small worry nags at the back of my mind. Hopefully, Nikko will be alright. A part of me wished I stayed behind too but it's too late to turn back now.

  Ryu stops and manipulates the earth above him, opening it and creating a staircase with a quick stomp. The staircase, formed entirely of earth, leads us to the surface. We emerge into the northern side of the village where Eldorian soldiers are clashing with elven soldiers. The surrounding buildings here aren't on fire, but thick smoke to my left obscures the view, adding to the chaos.

  Ryu draws his sword with a swift motion, and Talia unsheathes her short swords, her eyes blazing with determination. "Apollo, keep Rebecca safe," Ryu orders.

  "Affirmative," Apollo replies, positioning himself close to me with his shield and spear ready. Though fear grips me, Apollo's presence is a reassuring anchor amidst the turmoil.

  Many of the soldiers, not engaged with the elven defenders, turn their attention to us and charge. Ryu and Talia leap into action. Ryu's sword slices through the air with lethal precision, and with unseen force, he pushes soldiers back or halts them mid-charge. It's as if an invisible hand grips and throws them, leaving me in awe.

  Talia fights with an elegant, deadly grace, using her enemies' momentum against them. She moves swiftly, ducking and weaving, her short swords flashing as they find their marks. Each move is fluid, efficient, and lethal.

  Apollo stands guard over me, his shield raised and spear poised. Soldiers rush at him, but he dispatches them with ease, each strike precise and powerful. His calm, methodical approach is a stark contrast to the chaos around us.

  Suddenly, a soldier breaks through, charging at me. I draw my knife, heart pounding, preparing for the worst. But the soldier stops abruptly, as if held by an invisible force. He struggles, eyes wide with panic. I glance at Ryu, who has his hand stretched out, controlling the soldier's movements. Apollo steps forward and dispatches the soldier with a swift thrust of his spear. Relief floods through me, and I nod my thanks to Ryu.

  The elven soldiers, bolstered by Ryu and Talia's presence, begin to gain the upper hand. With renewed vigor, they press the attack, their blades flashing and shields clashing. Ryu's unseen force pushes soldiers away from the villagers, and Talia's swift strikes bring down enemy after enemy.

  The sounds I heard earlier in the tunnel grow louder, and streaks of red energy bolts begin to fly through the air, striking soldiers of Eldoria. Red energy bolts fired from IG-22 cuts through the chaos, taking down soldiers that the elves were struggling with.

  As the battle rages on, more soldiers rush towards Apollo and me. I hide behind him, heart racing, but Apollo stands firm, his spear and shield moving with deadly precision. He deflects attacks, stabs, and slashes, protecting me with unyielding determination.

  In the midst of the fighting, a soldier manages to get close to Apollo, but another charges at me directly. Fear grips me as I brace for impact, but the soldier suddenly stops, held in place by Ryu's unseen force. Apollo swiftly deals with the threat, his spear striking true.

  The tide of battle shifts unmistakably in our favor, and a swell of hope fills the streets as elven soldiers rally behind Ryu and Talia, their determination fierce and unwavering. The Eldorian forces, once so imposing, crumble under the relentless pressure, soldiers scattering as their formations fracture. One by one, they fall, until finally, those who remain drop their weapons, their expressions hollow and defeated.

  As the defeated Eldorian soldiers are quickly rounded up, elven soldiers move through the streets, binding their foes in chains, the metallic clinking echoing through the ruins of the city. Ryu moves ahead, extinguishing the last flickers of flame from burning buildings with a deft, almost effortless motion of his hand. Smoke wafts upwards, dissipating to reveal the charred devastation beneath. The scene is both surreal and deeply sobering. I step forward, my heart heavy as I take in the aftermath—the ground strewn with bodies, blood mingling with the soot and ash.

  Amidst the devastation, my gaze shifts to Ryu and Talia, and a strange awe stirs within me. In the midst of such ruin, their strength, resilience, and unwavering determination seem almost otherworldly, and I can't help but admire their poise amidst the chaos.