"AHHHHHHHH—damn it! Shit, it hurts!"
Captain AIA's screams echoed through the cave, loud enough to reach the forest's hidden portal.
"Captain!"
"This is bad. Repp's dead—and the Captain just lost his hand!"
"We need to retreat. Now!"
"John!"
One of the agents—John, the one still gripping a gun—charged forward, desperate to keep fighting. But another agent grabbed his arm, stopping him cold.
They all knew.
This fight was over.
They hadn't just lost—they'd been completely outclassed.
Two comrades dead. Their leader mutilated.
Victory wasn't just unlikely anymore. It was impossible.
"This isn't over!" John barked, still fuming.
"It is. Drop it, man. Help us get the Captain out of here before he bleeds out!"
John gritted his teeth, but nodded. There was no time for pride.
"Shit… someone stop the bleeding! Tie off his arm!"
The agents moved quickly, wrapping the Captain's mangled arm in cloth. Before retreating, John turned back toward Canis and Aron.
His voice was low, but threatening.
"This isn't the end. If the military shows up—you're dead. Both of you."
Canis didn't flinch. He didn't even blink.
He just watched them go with a blank, almost bored expression.
They meant nothing to him now.
But Aron?
He sat on the cave floor, legs folded under him, pale and shaking.
His breathing was ragged, his eyes wide.
Canis noticed and walked over, staring down with that familiar smug grin.
"What's with the drama? You look like you saw a ghost."
"I almost killed him..." Aron whispered. "I-I'm just glad I didn't."
Canis raised a brow.
"Judging by the wound, he might die from blood loss on the way out."
"W–WHAT?!"
Aron's panic spiked. The realization hit him like a truck.
Canis sighed.
"Relax. You're acting like it's your first time."
Aron stared up at him, stunned.
"...Mister. Are you... used to killing people?"
Canis paused. The words lingered in the air.
Killing. It wasn't something you just admitted.
It was something that changed you.
He thought of the voice in his head. The one from before.
The one that always came crawling back when blood was spilled.
He looked away, jaw clenched.
"Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"You're right to be glad you didn't go that far."
"That's how it should be," Aron said quietly.
Canis nodded slowly.
"But just know… someday, you might have to get your hands dirty—to protect someone important to you. Be ready for that."
"I know."
Their awkward silence said the rest.
Questions still lingered in Aron's mind, but he let them go—for now.
"So… what do we do next?"
"Eat," Canis said, lowering his head dramatically. "I'm starving."
Aron blinked.
"Seriously? Come on, don't make that face!" he laughed, getting up.
"Let's get out of this forest and grab some real food."
"Lead the way."
---
{Agras Town – Agras Island}
The streets were bustling as Canis and Aron walked through Agras Town. Merchants lined the roads with colorful stalls—selling everything from spices to clothes, toys to trinkets. And most importantly… food.
Canis's eyes sparkled at the sight of it all.
"Hey, Aron—where are we eating?"
"I know a good spot. You'll love it. Come on."
"If it has food, I'm in."
After a short walk, they reached a small corner shop with a modest wooden sign.
"Here we are."
"Where? That one?"
"Yeah, that's the place."
---
The restaurant was known for its signature dish: Rice Rendang. It was the best-seller in the whole city. But today, it was quiet—perfect for laying low.
Canis took one bite and his eyes lit up.
"Holy hell… this is amazing."
"Haha, glad you like it." The Restaurant owner happy to hear it.
"What is this stuff? I've never tasted anything like it."
"It's called Rendang. A special dish from my country—Nusantara."
"Nusantara? Never heard of it. New country or something?"
"Not exactly new," Aron replied, sitting back.
"We got our independence from Aigis about fifteen years ago—right after the Peninsula Tragedy."
"Huh. Gotta visit someday."
"Hey! Mister!" Aron cut in, whispering harshly. "Keep it down—you're drawing too much attention."
The restaurant owner smiled politely and walked off to serve another table.
"What? Can't I enjoy my meal?"
"We just fought off government agents and you're sitting here like we're on vacation."
Canis shrugged, finishing his plate.
"There's too much I don't understand right now. I'll deal with it once I'm full."
He slid Aron's untouched plate over to him.
"You should eat too. Food's still hot."
Aron stared for a moment, then sighed.
"Yeah, alright. You win. I'm starving."
"Told you."
They both dug in. The tension eased just a little—though it was clear it wouldn't last.
"We've got a lot to talk about later," Aron said between bites. "So you better be ready."
"I'm always ready."
---
{Agras Port – Agras Island}
Crowds gathered at the port, murmuring with rising concern.
An unfamiliar ship had just docked—and not just any ship.
A military warship.
"Why's the Navy here?"
"Last time we saw warships, there was a clash with the Atlantic Fleet."
"But this one's just… calmly docking. Something's different."
Curiosity spread like wildfire. Then someone gasped.
"Wait—is that who I think it is?"
A man descended from the warship, flanked by soldiers. His uniform gleamed with medals.
"That's Admiral Atomic!"
"You serious? The Admiral Atomic?"
"You really don't know who that is? That's Marc Atomic—Chief of Staff for the APF Navy!"
[PANEL: Admiral Marc Atomic – APF Navy Chief of Staff]
(APF: Aigis People's Forces)
The crowd parted as several island security officers pushed through.
They approached the Admiral and saluted sharply.
"Welcome to Agras Island, Admiral Atomic. May we ask—what brings you here?"
The Admiral didn't return the salute.
His voice was cold and clear.
"I'm here to exterminate a very noisy rat in our house."
{Chapter 6 End}