The silence quivered in the bar drenched with alcohol, sweat, and blood.

  In the middle of the drunk audience, Foreigner heavily huffed the breath. She clenched her fists firmly enough for the veins to throb over the skin, and her nails dug into her palm as more blood flowed to her hand. As her left eye glittered in seven different forms of wrath, the Vaz in front of her struggled to remove the wooden fragments from his fat belly and pointed his foul finger at her alongside the blasting screech.

  “You! How dare a mongrel lay a hand upon the noble body of Vaz!“

  The Vaz finally raised himself up with his greasy arms, and he violently tossed the fragments of furniture without caring who might be caught in the collateral damage.

  “Do you even know who I am! I am the Bheruz, the general of Persepolis, and the gladiator chosen by the Emperor himself! I fought on the side of the Great Emperor Cyrus at Pteria and Thymbra, tearing apart the enemies of the Emperor with my own hands!“

  At his words, Foreigner noticed the shift in the atmosphere. The drunkards who once screamed out laughter from the bottom of their lungs were now whispering to each other, and the murmur was getting louder to create one unified topic: Bheruz. There were some big words being thrown out: about the past when he ripped apart his enemy in the arena, about how he massacred the village by himself during the war, and about how Persepolis was facing a crisis under the tyrant ruling with a bloody fist. Even without memory or background knowledge, Foreigner knew she was in trouble with possibly the worst person on this train. Nevertheless, she could not falter, as she had a lesson to teach him.

  In the midst of the tension, Bheruz started his relentless march towards Foreigner, who calmly raised her fists up to land the second blow on his greasy face. But what she did not expect was a bottle of alcohol being thrown at her from the side, and it struck her head before shattering into a thousand pieces, penetrating through her skin. As the mixture of rum and blood flowed downwards from her head, the burning sensation swam across her nerves until it reached her toes, followed by the deafening tinnitus turning the floor and the ceiling upside down. However, the worst was yet to come, as within that brief moment of her losing sight of Bheruz, he was already in front of her with his fist directed at her abdomen. And there was nothing she could do other than to take it fully.

  It was only a single punch that was needed to send Foreigner across the room and crashing onto the wall of the train car. Through the smoking dust of the broken tables, the cheering of the crowd echoed in the bar, and Bheruz stood in the middle while drowning himself in the attention. Right at this moment, he was the emperor of the train, and he was the only one deserving of praise. Once he arrives at Pasargadae, he should march directly to the Emperor and demand the higher authority that was truly his, to become the general of Pasargadae. That fledgling general who just hatched out of the egg was not befitting for such grand of a position, so he should be the one to be on the side of the Emperor and pave the new way for the next generation of Vaz. And, just perhaps, he could be the next Emperor in the process.

  But the daydream faded alongside the cheering that turned into awe. Bheruz looked behind to see the dust piling down, and Foreigner was standing up from the piles of fragments. Her face was covered in blood, and spikes were coming out from her arms and legs, yet her eyes were glaring directly at him with the same amount of wrath she had before the ambush. And that left eye, that left eye splintered into seven pupils. Bheruz was getting a strange intimidation from it, as if it was penetrating through his soul to peer inside his cursed nature of needing others to fulfill the emptiness in his heart. He gulped his saliva down his dry throat. He did not admit it, but he was scared of her.

  “Take that back…“

  At the low rumble of Foreigner, Bheruz came back to his senses.

  “I said, take that back!“

  Suddenly, Foreigner rushed towards Bheruz with her fist raised, only for him to grab her head with one hand even before he was within reach of her attack. Without an effort, he lifted her into the air and laughed out to hide the fear he held inside just a moment ago.

  “And what should I take back, little bird?“ Bheruz mockingly raised his tone, and Foreigner replied with a still determined voice.

  “Take your words back! My friend is not a rat! He is strange but caring, and the smartest man I know! He already did far greater things than what you knucklehead ever achieved in your miserable life!“

  At the daring words of the lady, a light chuckle leaked out of the crowd, and Bheruz contorted his muscles on his face. He furiously slammed Foreigner onto the ground and stepped over her with his right foot, delivering the tremendous weight coming from his massive body on top of her chest. As he watched her fight for survival against his ankle, he found peace back in his mind and raised his arms to make a victorious moment that will be left throughout his life.

  “What could you do with that fragile body of yours, child of mongrel? You cannot lay another finger on me, not without your skull being crushed before your lungs release the last breath! You and that rat tailing are both scums crawling the glorious land of the Vaz, and below the feet of Vaz is the only place befitting for your kind!“

  Once again, the crowd cheered at the triumph rolling in front of their eyes, and Bheruz was standing in the middle of it on top of the weakling. The echo calling out his name. The enemy dying under his foot. It was as if he went back to the good old days when the audience applauded his performance. And he knew exactly how to end the show, in the most exhilarating way.

  But, abruptly, he opened his eyes wide and frantically yelled at the audience.

  “Who was that!“

  He screamed, yet all he saw was the confused look on his people's faces as the clapping slowly died down.

  “If you are so sure of your words, then show yourself at once! I dare you to say that again with me standing in front of you!“

  He roared again, without knowing his domination over Foreigner got weak enough for her to find the natural color on her face. And amidst the murmur of the crowd, it was Bheruz whose face slowly turned white.

  “That’s—How do you know that name? No, please, stop! Stop this melody at once! Where is this voice coming from? Who is talking to me?!“

  His voice got louder and louder to suppress the noise echoing into his tiny ear pits, but all the people could think of was if the old man in front of them had gone mad.

  “No! I didn’t! I didn’t abandon my troops! I—“

  Foreigner felt the pressure on her chest getting relaxed, and she knew that the opportunity to turn the table was right around the corner.

  “I AM NOT A COWARD!!!“

  Bheruz lifted his foot to prepare for the last strike as he grasped his head, filled with the voice only he could hear. He slammed the floor with all the might to feel the crumble beneath him and grinned at the sudden satisfaction of victory. Yet, something was not right. It was missing that feeling, the feeling of the skull splitting into two.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Are you done, ugly?“

  As Bheruz slowly turned his head, what he saw was the pesky scum standing still with a small, sharp wooden needle splintered apart from what used to be the bar. With the anger reaching the top of his head, he rampaged towards the ungrateful pest mocking the general of Persepolis, but the voice was heard once again within his head. He grasped his right eyeball to ease the pain rumbling from the back, and what he saw with his left eye was his enemy below him, sliding on the floor through the tunnel below his groin.

  The next moment, he felt the agony of a new kind screeching out from his buttocks.

  The crowd released a moan of pain despite they were not the ones who got hurt. intoLike a tree falling down, the colossal body of Bheruz slowly fell forward. His eyes were flipping upward with the sclera covering up most of the surface, and there was no sound coming out of his widely opened mouth. Soon, the loud thud echoed in the room, and while no one in the crowd dared to speak up, everyone knew who the final victor was.

  Foreigner gasped out a breath, but it was not over yet. She immediately rushed towards Pafnuty and pulled him out of the rubble of furniture. There were some scratches on his arms and a crack on his mask, but nothing seemed fatal. Only then she released the stress out of her system and attempted to carry Pafnuty over her blood-soaked shoulder. While being oblivious of the murmur growing behind her, and a threat still not extinguished.

  Before her instinct could warn her of it, she felt her neck being choked by a force strong enough to lift her into the air. Slowly, she lost contact with the floor and floated towards the ceiling, but the only thing she could touch on her neck was her own skin. There was nothing surrounding it, yet she could feel the suffocation pressing her life away from every direction. The only thing she could do was turn her head to see the face of the culprit, but again, there was no one behind her. Except for the Bheruz reaching his hand out towards her, and the insight flew through her mind at the end of the line.

  “Is he…using Rhea?“

  The doubt leaked out of the crowd, and it soon turned into a turmoil.

  “Is that legal? Punch is one thing, but Rhea?“

  “It cannot be! The great Emperor strictly prohibited the use of Rhea against individuals, except for his Hounds!“

  “But he is the general. Perhaps he is an exception?“

  “Don’t question me. I’m just here to drink, not discuss. If you are too concerned about that, why don’t you go and stop him?“

  But of course, no one made the move. There was nothing between Bheruz with murderous intent and Foreigner helplessly losing control of her body. The vision slowly turned red, then to grey. The voices of the crowd muffled into a white noise, and the heartbeat echoed through her body a fraction of a second slower than the previous, and previous, and previous. While she was ignorant at best, she knew that this was how she would die. Without a chance to resist. Without a chance to save. Without a chance to find.

  At least, she thought until she saw a small, oval-shaped object being thrown in front of Bheruz.

  It made a popping sound, then released a white, thick smoke that infested the room within a flash. As the density of the artificial fog reached its highest and the crowd lost sight of each other, a sudden smacking on the thick skin of Vaz resonated in the room.

  “Agh! What was that for?“

  Another thump followed right after, this time even harder than the first.

  “What? Who was that?! You! How are you punch me in the back!“

  And the second, and the third. Soon, the entire car was drowned in anarchy and turned into a blood-raged arena where the only rule was free for all. The chaos swept onto Behruz as well, and he lost the grasp of Foreigner when one of his followers landed on top of him, and the object sticking out of his bottom went deeper inside.

  Alongside the screeching agony accelerating the frenzy sweeping across the car, Foreigner fell onto the ground lifelessly. The blood vessels in her swollen left eye pulsated vigorously, and her legs shook intensely with fear, but she still managed to stand and raise her fist to finish the fight. The rupture on her forehead flowed blood onto her vision, and the nauseating taste of iron lingered in her mouth through the broken teeth, but she had to remain resolute. There were certain times when a lady must fight even if there was no chance of winning, and one of them was to teach the bastard who mocked and wounded her friend a lesson. And when that chance came, she straightened her jab against the white silhouette approaching her.

  “Geez, chill. It’s me.“ Octavia casually blocked Foreigner’s slow and weak punch and carried her on her shoulder without consent.

  “O—Octavia! Let me have this; I got this!“

  “No, you don’t. We need to get out of here and have Pafnuty treat you. Once he wakes up, that is.“

  With the brawl happening behind her, Octavia carried Pafnuty on the other shoulder and walked out of the car under the thick fog. The only thing left in the bar was violence carried by the directionless wrath, and the stench of alcohol rushing in the air turned the laughter of the crowd from joy to madness. Amidst the rumble, only two were sitting on chairs: the Vaz handling a booze like a gentleman while holding a book in one hand, and the Gelip elegantly drinking her alcohol with cacophony as her side dish.

  Octavia threw Pafnuty on her bed and laid Foreigner on the opposite one. She then scrambled through Pafnuty’s bag to find any medicine for Foreigner, who kept mumbling about how she could still fight and to treat Pafnuty first. But to Octavia’s eyes, she looked like a goldfish with two puffy cheeks on the verge of life and death, while Pafnuty, on the other side, was sleeping soundly to recover from his chronic fatigue.

  “Okay, I ‘think’ this will make you feel better.“

  Octavia pulled out a syringe with a liquid that she remembered Pafnuty showing her. While she could not remember what the actual outcome of the substance was, she assumed that there was a reason why he was so excited telling her about it one day. Still, there was no luxury of waiting for Pafnuty to wake up, as there was no guarantee that Foreigner would wake up again once the rush of adrenaline died down. Thus, she injected the substance into Foreigner’s vein, and all she could do was to hope.

  “Is Pafnuty alright?“

  Foreigner spoke with an eccentric pronunciation through her puffy cheeks and swollen lips, but Octavia could not laugh at it.

  “Yes, he is. He just fainted. I’m more worried about you right now. Once the Doc wakes up, I’ll ask him to do something. But until then, you need to relax.”

  Foreigner’s face brightened up when she heard that, and she fell into a peaceful slumber. Leaving Octavia to be engulfed in her thought.

  What Foreigner did today was careless. The situation could have been significantly worse than she could have ever imagined, especially since that Vaz turned out to be Roeh. Octavia thought to herself that they were lucky tonight, as that general of Persepolis, who was named Barrack or something like that, was incompetent in Rhea. If he weren’t, the three of them would have been sacks of meat waiting to be burst inside out. She wondered if she should be mad at Foreigner for being reckless and almost sabotaging the journey. At the very least, she should warn her not to do anything like that next time.

  But the first thing that came out on her face was a smile.

  “By the way, you were really cool back there.“

  The mist of night had dawned upon the express, and the clattering sound of the wheels continued towards the capital of the empire.

  In a luxurious suite aboard, a relaxing hum was leaking out from behind the bathroom door, alongside the sound of a stream of water falling from above. Inside was Gelip, fixing her makeup after taking a warm bath full of roses to relieve the stress she had to go through today. Joyfully, she wiggled her buttocks left and right as she applied a new color of lipstick that she had handpicked for this day, and bit the tip of her thumb and gazed at the looking glass with the grin of satisfaction at the end of her ceremony. As always, there was a beautiful lady doing the same on the other side.

  She left the bathroom, which was directly connected to the suite's bedroom. She glared at the bed and saw the naked body of Bheruz on top of it. His eyes were wide open yet lifeless, and there was a small hole in his forehead, connecting the front and back of his head in a clean and straight circular tunnel. A slight scent of burnt flesh lingered in the room, and Gelip sprayed perfume around her body to get rid of the foul odor.

  The clock rang to signal midnight, and the Gelip walked towards the window. Unfortunately for her, the clothes she wore tonight were torn apart by the giant hands with no manners, but that served little to no trouble. Under the cold moonlight, brightening up the suite and illuminating her gorgeous body, she opened the window, and the loud gushing sound of wind and a train bumping on its rails flooded into the room. She leaned outside and saw the tunnel at faraway where the train was heading to and said with annoyance dripping from her lips.

  “I know, I know. I’ll be there soon, stop yelling at me.“

  Gelip stepped onto the ledge of the window. She felt the chill air of the night caressing her naked skin and peered at the exit door behind her.

  “Good night, Sinner. Hope you don’t die until we meet again.“

  The train soon entered the tunnel, and everything went dark. The second time moonlight shone into the room, there was no sign of life.