The man moved from truck to truck, checking each one quickly. When he reached the far end of the yard, he finally found one with keys still inside.

  Hope flickered.

  He turned the ignition.

  Nothing happened.

  He tried again.

  Still nothing.

  Frowning, he opened the compartment beneath the wheel. His shoulders sagged as he looked inside. The vehicle had been heavily tampered with—wires exposed, parts missing. It was clearly under repair.

  Useless.

  Kloric noticed the man had spent too long at a single truck. As he approached, the man stepped out and gave a small shake of his head.

  It didn’t work.

  Their faces fell.

  They knew their fate.

  Still, they waited—hoping for a miracle.

  It never came.

  A dog suddenly leapt toward them, barking wildly.

  Heavy footsteps followed.

  The sound of boots closed in fast.

  That was it.

  There was nowhere to run.

  Then a thought struck him—I returned the first time. What if there isn’t a second?

  The guards finally reached the vehicle yard.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  The barking stopped.

  Rifles were raised—not to fire, but in command.

  “Hands up!” one of them shouted.

  Kloric froze, then slowly raised his hands. The others followed.

  No one ran.

  One of the guards squinted at Kloric. “Wait… isn’t that the guy who was trying to negotiate earlier?”

  Another guard snorted. “Looks like it.”

  “Alright,” the first guard said sharply. “All of you—come out. Slowly.”

  They obeyed.

  As they were herded forward, one guard frowned at the truck behind them.

  “Hey, Chello… isn’t this the one you were working on? The engine job?”

  Chello glanced over and grimaced. “Yeah. Guess they tried to use it to escape.”

  The squad leader stepped forward, irritation clear on his face.

  “Didn’t the camp commander warn you about leaving keys inside vehicles?”

  Chello scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, sir. He rushed me to pick these prisoners up. I forgot.”

  He hesitated, then added, “Speaking of him… he should be arriving soon.”

  Kloric’s heart skipped.

  A camp commander.

  An idea sparked in his mind.

  He must be a commander for a reason, Kloric thought. Someone like that doesn’t survive by killing blindly.

  The guards here enjoyed blood.

  A commander would value results.

  If we prove useful to him…

  Kloric’s fingers curled slowly.

  He might not kill us.

  “Alright,” the squad leader said, clapping his hands once. “The commander’s on his way. Let’s hurry this up.”

  Kloric’s breath hitched.

  One of the guards turned toward them—toward the six who remained.

  “You,” he said casually. “Any last words?”

  For a heartbeat, Kloric didn’t understand.

  Last words?

  His thoughts stalled.

  Why so fast?

  His heart began to pound.

  The other prisoners stiffened, chains rattling softly as fear crept back into their eyes.

  “But—” Kloric started, then stopped himself.

  The guard smirked. “Relax. Orders are orders. The commander doesn’t like messes waiting for him.”

  Kloric’s mind raced.

  No. This isn’t right.

  Another guard barked impatiently, “Hurry it up. If you’ve got something to say, say it. I don’t want the commander seeing the base littered with bodies.”

  Chello frowned. “What are you going to tell him about the prisoners?”

  The guard shrugged. “That they were bad ones. No use. Problem solved.”

  He gestured with his rifle.

  “Finish them.”

  The squad leader pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and exhaled slowly.

  “The rest of you,” he said, turning away, “follow me. We’ll clear the bodies before the commander arrives.”

  As the leader turned away—

  Boom.

  Then—

  Boom.

  And again.

  Terren fell first.

  Then Kloric.

  It happened so fast that Kloric didn’t even feel the pain.

  He hit the ground hard, the world tilting as his consciousness began to slip away.

  Sounds blurred.

  Voices bled into one another.

  “…What the hell is all this?”

  That voice was different.

  Sharper. Controlled.

  “I thought I told you to bring them back alive, Chello.”

  “S-sorry, sir,” someone stammered. “They were no good. We had to eradicate them.”

  Silence.

  Heavy.

  Then—

  “Even if they were ‘no good,’ you could have punished them,” the voice snapped.

  “Do you have any idea how many assets we’ve just lost?”

  Kloric’s vision dimmed further, but he could still hear.

  “We needed more slaves,” the commander continued coldly.

  “And now we’re short because you couldn’t follow simple orders.”

  A pause.

  “I hope you can fix this,” the commander said.

  “Or be prepared for demotion.”

  “Y-yes, sir.”

  “Dispose of the bodies. Quickly,” the commander added.

  “I hate seeing filth lying around.”

  As the commander left.

  Chello shrugged as he began dragging the bodies away.

  “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. “The squad leader’s gotten me into real trouble this time.”

  He kicked a stone aside irritably.

  “Should’ve mentioned his name instead of taking all the blame. He owes me a beer for this.”

  Darkness closed in.

  Kloric tried to speak.

  His lips moved, but no sound came out.

  He… came… late…

  The thought dissolved before the words could.

  Then there was nothing.