The time I’d been unconscious against my will was becoming absurdly high—far too often for my liking. What seemed like an anomaly for most people had somehow become routine for me, and it was starting to wear thin. But there was no one I could complain to—at least not anyone who wouldn’t simply laugh it off or beat me senseless on the spot. My head was supported by the door to my side, so at least there was no issue of comfortability.
Still, I hoped that playing dead might give me a chance to eavesdrop on the two figures seated in the car with me. Unfortunately, the pair hadn’t exchanged a single word. The smaller one, whom I now assumed was the one who’d jabbed the syringe into my neck, checked on me every few minutes by poking my face with her finger, as though trying to figure out if I was truly out cold.
Then the car came to a halt, and the sudden sound of machinery grinding into place rang out.
“You can stop pretending now,” the larger one, a woman with a voice like gravel grinding in the deep, said. She pushed the car door open on my side.
I fell out, landing with a thud. I scrambled up quickly, brushing myself off and trying to look like the professional they expected.
‘Guess that explains the silence,’ I thought. While I had confidence in my ability to act, I clearly hadn’t perfected it enough to fool everyone. I was thankful the bigger one didn’t seem angry, though.
The car we had been riding in slowly rolled away behind me as I peered toward the hangar’s wide-open doors. My heart sank when I saw the outside world.
Instead of the bustling airstrip or cityscape I expected, all that greeted me was an endless sea of trees. A dense forest stretched on in every direction, hugging the structure like some well-kept secret.
‘How in the hell are they planning to fly out of here?’ I mused, standing up.
“Hey, you guys—" I started to ask, but my words caught in my throat as something far more breathtaking appeared before my eyes.
The ship.
In the center of the hangar sat the most gorgeous piece of machinery I had ever laid eyes on. The spacecraft seemed alive, its engine humming with energy as several figures scurried around it, preparing for launch.
Its body was sleek and streamlined, made of a silvery alloy that shimmered as it reflected the lights around it. The surface was flawless—no bolts or seams broke the smooth expanse of its hull. Twin wings jutted from its sides, outlined with glowing LED strips that cast a soft, futuristic glow. The cockpit, encased in a tinted dome, promised an almost panoramic view of the stars. At the rear, thrusters gleamed like the barrels of a gun, etched with designs that seemed as functional as they were artistic.
I could’ve stood there for hours, mesmerized by its beauty. For a moment, I almost forgot that there was a very real chance I’d die soon.
My attention waned as I looked around the hanger. The ship, and us, stood in the middle of a massive hangar. The place was so large that it could’ve swallowed several city blocks whole.
“What’re you staring at?” a voice cut through my reverie.
I turned to see the smaller figure from the car standing beside me. This time, her hood was down, and I could finally see her face. She was younger than I expected, probably around my age, maybe a year or two younger. Her jet-black hair cascaded to her shoulders, framing her sharp, mischievous crimson eyes. A crescent moon-shaped tattoo adorned the side of her neck, giving her a mysterious, dangerous edge.
She was oddly attractive for someone involved in criminal activities.
“The ship,” I replied with a smile. “It’s incredible.”
Her eyes flickered with amusement as she took in my awe. “This your first time seeing one up close?” she asked.
“I’ve seen a few flying overhead,” I admitted, “but never this close.”
She scoffed. “It’s nothing special. One of the cheapest models you can get.”
“Still a spaceship,” I called back over the roar of the engines. To her, it might’ve been just another mode of transportation, but for me—someone who had only heard tales of spacecraft—it was nothing short of magical.
The woman rolled her eyes and grabbed me by the collar, dragging me toward the back of the ship with surprising strength. “Come on, we don’t have time for you to gawk,” she said as we ascended the ramp.
"Hey! Give me like five more minutes!" I tried to break free from her grasp.
"If I give you five minutes, it's going to take five hours! Now come on!"
I had barely caught my breath when I stepped inside the ship’s interior—and immediately wanted to fall to my knees in awe again.
The cockpit alone was a masterpiece. Holographic controls hovered mid-air, interacting seamlessly with the dashboard, which curved around the pilot's seat. The entire space was bathed in a soft blue glow, ambient lighting adding to the futuristic vibe. The seats were sleek and ergonomic, promising a level of comfort I’d never experienced.
I tore myself away from the cockpit and ventured into the main cabin. It was just as stunning. High ceilings, matte-finished walls lined with interactive touchscreens, and modular seating designed for both comfort and efficiency. The lighting seemed to adjust as I walked, sensing the change in environment and dimming or brightening accordingly. Even the kitchenette, which was cleverly hidden behind a panel, seemed designed with style and utility in mind.
Before I could wander too far, the larger woman from the car, now known as Artemis, barked at me from the holographic table in the center of the cabin.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Are you done playing tourist, or do I need to fetch you?” she snapped.
I sheepishly made my way over to the table, where a hologram of a large city floated above it. A red circle highlighted what appeared to be a castle at the heart of the map.
Artemis gave a short, sharp exhale, then launched into her explanation.
“Our mission is simple. We’ll use this idiot—" she gestured at me, “—as bait to catch The Baron, the leader of the Ukorin. We’re entering him into Rolat City's annual Tournament of Courage, which we’ll ensure he wins. The prize this year is a spot within the Ukorin’s ranks. Once he’s in, we’ll use him to get close to The Baron. When the opportunity presents itself, we strike. Afterward, he’ll be extracted, and we’ll finish the mission. Clear?”
It was a ridiculous plan, relying on far too many “if’s” for my taste, and the more I listened, the more convinced I became that Artemis was holding back important details—probably because she thought I wouldn’t understand them. Still, I couldn’t keep quiet.
“What if things don’t go as planned?” I asked, my voice cutting through the silence.
Every eye turned to me as though I had just spoken some forbidden language.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Artemis replied coldly. “Just do your part, and make sure she trusts you.”
Without another word, she shut off the hologram and headed toward the cockpit, one of the other new figures following her.
I sighed and collapsed into a nearby seat, watching the roof of the hangar open above us. Moments later, the ship hummed to life, rising steadily before it shot into the sky.
As we broke through the atmosphere, the stars appeared, glittering against the vast black expanse of space. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen—more captivating than I could have imagined. Even as doubts about the mission gnawed at me, I couldn’t help but feel awe at the universe laid bare before me.
?
Hours passed, and though it was difficult to track time in space, I could feel the onset of night. I tried to sleep but ended up sprawled on the couch, regretting that I hadn't asked how to unfold the beds. My pride kept me from asking for help now, so I resigned myself to a less-than-comfortable rest.
‘Hey, Infra, didn’t Enzo say our target was a man? Why are they calling The Baron a woman?’ I asked the voice in my head.
‘Figures,’ I thought. Not exactly vital information, but it was interesting nonetheless.
‘Why are they called The Baron, anyway?’ I asked after a moment’s pause.
‘So just a dictator fanboy.’ I frowned. Somehow, that knowledge did little to quell my nerves.
Hours later, as we re-entered Earth’s atmosphere, Artemis called for everyone to wake up. I sprang up and rushed to the bathroom—there was no way I was going to spend the next leg of the trip holding it in.
No one bothered to tell me why we needed to leave the atmosphere during our travels, but being an illegal organization and everything, it was safe to assume travelling safely required a few extra steps.
Once I was freshened up, I decided to inspect the briefcase they’d handed me earlier. Inside, I found two sets of clothes. One was a simple outfit, but the other was a modified version of the armor I used to wear in The Underground—except now, it was bright yellow and white, almost blinding.
There was also a small device that unfolded into a full-sized weapon when pressed. I fiddled with it for a few moments before nearly taking out Suiko’s–the other womans–eye, at which point I hastily shoved it back into the case.
After setting the Weaver aside, I rifled through the remaining contents of the case. There wasn’t much left: an ID card, a passport, and a set of plastic contact lenses, all bundled together. The passport and ID bore the details of someone else—a name and background I didn’t recognize—but the face on both of them was unmistakably mine. They even had my expression nailed down, an unsettlingly perfect representation of my likeness.
When the hell did they take this? I wondered, staring at the photo.
It was eerie holding physical identifiers in this digital age, where everything was usually stored and tracked in the cloud. And yet, there was something oddly comforting about holding the passport in my hand, like a tangible connection to something real in this bizarre, unfamiliar world. I slipped on the contact lenses, remembering Suiko’s words that they were supposed to fool retina and facial scanners, and then I tucked everything but the Weaver and the ID card back into the briefcase.
Once everyone was awake and refreshed, Artemis gathered us to go over the plan again, her sharp, no-nonsense demeanor setting the tone. Half an hour later, we landed in a dense forest on the outskirts of the city. The hum of the ship’s engines faded as we disembarked, the surrounding trees towering over us like silent sentinels. Artemis handed me a robe similar to hers and waited as I threw it on, its weight settling on my shoulders. The fabric was coarse but sturdy, made for utility rather than comfort.
We soon joined a long line of travelers waiting to enter the city. The gates loomed ahead, massive and imposing, with guards stationed on either side, scrutinizing each person that passed through. As we waited, I caught snippets of conversations from the crowd, a mix of nervous excitement and idle chatter.
“Did you hear?” one man said in a low voice to his companion just ahead of us. “People from the Eight Great Families are participating in the tournament this year.”
His friend scoffed. “Bullshit. What would they gain from competing with regular folks like us?”
“I’m telling you, it’s true! I heard it straight from the mouth of a merchant who deals with them regularly. The youngest sons of the Okoye and Burns families failed the preliminary exams for The Academy. Word is, they’ve been sent to tournaments around the globe to restore their family honor.”
“Get outta here,” the second man grumbled, shaking his head. “You must be drunk.”
“I’m not!” the first man snapped, indignant.
The mention of the Eight Great Families piqued my curiosity. I turned to Artemis, my voice low. “Who are the Eight Great Families?”
She barely glanced at me. “That’s not your concern right now. Focus on staying prepared.”
Her dismissive tone made it clear she wasn’t in the mood for questions, but I wasn’t willing to let the topic drop. We still had time, and I was curious about the powerful players in this strange new world.
I let out a small hmph of frustration, then refocused my attention on the two men in front of us. Their argument was starting to escalate, the drunk one growing louder and more insistent. Seizing the moment, I tapped him on the shoulder.
“Excuse me,” I began, trying to sound casual, “I couldn’t help but overhear. You mentioned the Eight Great Families. I’m from a smaller city and don’t know much about them. Could you explain who they are?”
The two men exchanged a glance, eyebrows raised, as if they weren’t sure whether to take me seriously. Then, without warning, their faces split into wide grins. Before I knew it, they both had their arms slung around my shoulders like we were old friends.
“Of course!” the drunk man exclaimed, his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. “We’ve got nothing better to do, isn’t that right, Ernie?”
Ernie, the quieter of the two, chuckled. “Yeah, might as well kill some time.”
I could already feel a small suppressive aura creeping out onto me from behind, but ignored it and focused on the words of the two men.
They seemed like quite the knowledgable pair.