The Xeni’s victory was sealed. This was the
day they had awaited for millennia now, and it was here. The moment
was here at long last.
As the silence lengthened, the watchmen
slowly diverted their gazes from Dantox, looking at each other and
around them, waiting. Dantox took a precautious step back from the
front of the plateau: whatever was waiting to come very soon now
was meant to claim only the watchmen. And not him.
Pushing back the savage glee, Dantox cleared
his throat and called to the audience of nine hundred or so flaming
warriors spread before him:
“Watchmen … I bear the heaviest regret in
having to tell you of the demise of Mantra, and the three young
students. As of now, all of you and myself are all that remains of
the ancient legacy that was the Nyon.”
He gave a fake sigh. He knew that the speech
he was now making was merely intended to keep the army engaged just
long enough for the trap that was about to fall over them and slay
them all. And that wasn’t long at all, now.
__________
Meanwhile, about a mile overhead that place,
a large ship was perched frozen in the sky. But hanging
outstretched beneath the ship was a nuclear canon, and it was aimed
right at the large clearing where stood the nine hundred watchmen.
The canon needed a brief span of seconds to steady itself and
empower itself. The nuclear beam that would soon erupt from its tip
would soar down to meet the stretch of land occupied by the
watchmen … and blast them all to oblivion.
The ship pumped energy into the nuclear canon
which armed itself, preparing itself to release the deadly ray that
would wipe out the watchmen. The energy fed into the canon slowly.
And as the canon slowly absorbed the energy, it started the
countdown to emitting the blast, aimed at the dead centre of that
large clearing … In fifteen seconds, it would release the nuclear
blast that would destroy the watchmen.
Fourteen…
Thirteen…
Twelve…
__________
Down below, a heavy silence had taken over
the clearing filled with the watchmen, as Dantox gave a brief pause
to his speech.
The watchmen, though spirits of Elderon, were
made with mortal shells that came with normal emotions. And the
grief of what they had heard seemed to weigh down over the entire
clearing. Stunning them all to silence…
They had entered the world to set everything
right, but now, it almost seemed like nothing was right at all. If
they were hearing correctly, and then it meant that there was only
one remaining survivor of the Nyon, and he was standing before
them. And together, they were all that now remained to protect this
world from Redgarn and his evil empire…
All nine hundred soldiers were fighting at
that moment to keep themselves contained, not let their resolves
dissipate. They knew that it was never as bad as it seemed. And at
least they, the watchmen, were there as the last armor for the
world, right?
Up over the plateau, Dantox was beginning
speak with a strangely slow pace, a deliberate slur to his words.
He kept flicking his eyes above towards the puffy field of clouds
hanging high over them all. And from time to time, something nasty
seemed to glitter in his eyes as he spoke to them of this new
development, and what they were now to do…
And then, piercing through the present,
reaching them like a ray of golden sun … it came.
A message.
A message sent through telekinetic means.
This was something only the most revered and most powerful of
mystical minds could have accomplished. And the same message
reached all of the watchmen, lasting for the splinter of a
moment:
Mantra’s face vividly shimmered before all of
their faces within their minds. He slowly moved his lips to form
three plain words:
“
It’s a trap!
”
And then, as soon as the elderly master’s
message had come, it had gone. Melting back to leave the present to
move back over their minds.
As one, air gushed into the nine hundred
warriors’ lungs as they gasped in utter shock, their eyes now
spotting the deceit. It was standing in front of them, pretending
to be their ally.
Dantox was the deceit…
And they were all now amidst an oncoming
ambush … the message reverberated through all of their minds with
the force of a tidal wave, and it wiped every other thought from
their minds.
The next second, the nine hundred watchmen
had taken to their heels, and were scurrying from the giant
clearing that they were standing in. Realising that the place they
had been gathered around was some sort of a target zone, the entire
army pelted away from the clearing as one. They fled the clearing
and, sprinting with all of the mystical energy they had been given,
escaped the region coming within the blast radius of the nuclear
beam. And just as they did, a dazzling green coloured tunnel of
light shot from the heavens and hit the ground where they had been
a few seconds back. And a giant golden semi sphere arose as the
region within the blast radius went up in a fuming blaze…
A giant crater had formed on the ground where
they had been standing. The plateau that Dantox was standing on was
spared.
The watchmen were beginning to feel the
relief swell within for one great second. Realising what they had
just evaded.
And then, as if in response, they heard
it…
A rumble splitting the skies above. And
through the parting clouds overhead, a large cruiser slowly floated
downwards.
This was the cruiser the Xeni had stolen …
the cruiser carrying a battalion of armed forces.
As the entire army watched, helpless, all
exit flaps of the giant vessel popped open … and a stream of battle
ships came pouring out from all over the vessel. Like a never
ending tirade, the warships gushed out of the vessel and swooped in
right towards where they all stood. They were all armed, their
canons ready to rage upon the watchmen on the ground below.
The watchmen drew their sabers as one, and
braced themselves. Watching the rain of battle ships descend upon
them…
And as the wave of Xeni’s ships surged
halfway onto the earth, their canons and missile launchers began to
blaze. Orbs of light and missiles were unleashed with a hysteric
rage, showering the ground where the helpless watchmen stood … But
the brave warriors raised their weapons and fought back, ducking,
jumping, and shielding themselves from their enemies’ merciless
onslaught.
__________
“How much longer?”
Mantra’s tone was pressed with urgency, and
his eyes were narrowed in a look of absolute, grave focus.
Qyro leaned forward and checked a reading on
the holo screen. He rounded to the three of them, who stood behind
him waiting in paramount anxiety.
“We’re there.”
The ship’s engine was louder than most. It
left a mean rumble to gruel over the silence, so that the air
around the four of them seemed sharper with the sounds of an
oncoming disaster…
After crash landing on that planet, they had
immediately scurried to the nearest village. Pushed to extreme
desperacy, they had stolen one of the ships and were now flying it
to where the ambush was supposed to take place … or
was
taking place.
True to Qyro’s words, they felt the ship’s
space speed drop dangerously. And then, they could see the large
planet grow across the black stretch of space through the window
outside.
The same terrible question could be felt
thundering over the silence…
Were they too late … ?
Whatever the watchmen were about to face or
were presently facing, could they reach in time to help them with
it?
Within a few seconds, they were soaring down
over the planet’s deserted terrain, and there, they saw their
answer…
Ion felt his insides go hollow.
The other three stood as speechlessly stunned
as he was.
“No…” whispered Vestra.
Strewn over the ground in shattered remains
were a battalion of ships, all of them in smoking debris. But lying
between them were corpses.
Unmistakable corpses … of the watchmen.
All of them were dead.
For the first time since he had known him,
Mantra seemed to have lost control. He dropped to his knees on the
ground, his heavy white eyes scanning the scene before them. It was
littered with the remains of the cruel battle which had killed the
watchmen. Their bodies were lying all over the ground, charred and
smoking. Blending into the clutter of debris that filled the ground
all over the place. Unlike how they had been when alive, their
bodies were no longer emitting a fiery glow: they were now scoured
of the life that formed their core, and had gone dull.
Vestra swept her head around to gaze at Ion
and Qyro, who stood behind the master, their voices stumped in the
same shock. Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she didn’t cry.
Instead, she stooped down over Mantra, and wrapped her arm over
him.
“It’s all right, master.” she consoled.
“It always is,” whispered Mantra, shaking his
head. “What happens is always what’s right. What we require is the
strength for accepting so … whatever be the cost.”
He turned and let his white eyes flow on
towards the horizon, checking to see if there were survivors among
the army. But they clearly knew that it was impossible. The Xeni
had sent an entire battalion for this. For this last victory. And
by the look of it, the watchmen had put up a fight. A brave one.
They had destroyed as much of the ships as possible. But it wasn’t
enough. The force the Xeni’s had arrived here with had clearly
swallowed them whole.
Everything Ion knew now dissolved into a blur
of hopelessness.
For it was now all over.
Qyro dug his hands into his pocket, walking
forward in a gentle trot. He angrily kicked one of the scraps bits
off the way as he strolled on.
Mantra stood with Vestra’s gentle arm still
around him. Ion followed Qyro, trotting upto one of the large,
charred blocks of ship debris to take a seat on it. Qyro leaned by
the side of the large debris block, his red fur seeming to have
wilted.
“How could this happen?” he said quietly.
“The worst possible time.”
Ion gave a mild nod, watching the horizon far
across the land. The thin line that allowed the red land and the
blue sky to meld as one.
“It’s over, then.” Ion could feel the hollow
tone in his own voice. “The Xeni would release the demon army
anytime now. And the entire spectrum is theirs for the taking …
Nothing at all to stand in their way.”
He had felt worst before only twice in his
life.
The day he had been dragged away from home by
the Naxim.
And … the day he had killed Eol.
Those were the two instances in his entire
life when the world itself had ended … or rather he had wished it
had. And the crushing heaviness that had settled over the present,
over the four of them now, was close to what he had felt those two
days.
In front of them, Mantra and Vestra were
slowly walking up towards them. Mantra gazed at the ground below,
appearing to be deep in thought. Finally, as the two of them
arrived before where Ion and Qyro stood, he raised his eyes to meet
them.
“There clearly was something very unexpected
that occurred in between all of this.” he said grimly. “That had
steered control away from us.”
“What do you mean?” Vestra asked him.
Mantra’s thought worn expression went deeper,
and his eyes floated to the distance behind where Ion and Qyro
stood.
“The conch had been sounded to summon them
here.” he said finally. “That much is clear. But what isn’t at all
clear is
how
? For only a Nyon master could have done
it.”
“If that’s so, then how could the
Xeni
have used the conch to summon the watchmen?” asked Ion.
For a silent second, the three of them looked
around at each other, feeling the air thicken with mystery.
Then, Mantra’s thoughtful look wore off, his
eyes regaining focus as they returned to where they were now
standing.
“How, you ask?” he said softly, and his
eyebrows tilted in a frown. “I think I may have a guess … nothing
more.”
The taste of victory had never been so
sweet.
Dantox and the other Xeni now stood in a
building in the same planet, making the final communication to
their masters - the communication of their victory.
“Good.” replied Zardin, staring out of the
holographic screen that hung in mid air before Dantox. “Very good.
The watchmen have been taken care of, and now we will proceed.”