[EXT. NIGHT – LAUNCH TARMAC – GIANT SPACECRAFT LOADING BAY]
The night air was thick with metallic fumes and the sharp tang of Craxillon energy.Reactors crackled inside reinforced containment pods, their glow throwing eerie blue shadows across the tarmac. Fuel tanks hissed under pressure, releasing faint vapor trails into the cold night.
All around, the Resistance's loading bay was chaos in motion. Soldiers and engineers rushed back and forth, their voices sharp, their movements urgent. Heavy weapon crates clanged onto grav-lifts, tech modules disappeared into cargo slots, and emergency ration packs were stacked into tall metal cages waiting to be hauled aboard.
Everywhere, the sound of urgency.
Ransoku — trapped in Lady Seraphina's body — stood in the shadows, watching from above, crouched atop the container roof. His emerald eyes scanned the organized frenzy below.
From here, the whole operation looked… desperate.
Earlier That Day – [FLASHBACK]
Ransoku had been walking alone through one of the base's quieter corridors. His head was low, his steps slow. Inside him churned a mix of irritation and an unfamiliar restlessness.
Inner Voice (dry sarcasm):
"Bravo… the great chief commanders."
"They told the poor soldiers a beautiful lie — that the Resistance will live on, and their sacrifice will mean something."
He shook his head.
"And what are they doing now? Packing up their precious equipment, fleeing to a brand-new safe base."
His jaw clenched as he imagined Zargan's army tearing through what was left behind.
"When Zargan's troops reduce this place to dust…what Resistance will be left?
What mission?
They'll be somewhere far away, eating, drinking, and living comfortably.
Hell… maybe they'll even join Zargan if the offer's good enough .Get some high-ranking positions in his empire while they're at it."
He stopped walking. A thought hit him — sharp, sudden.
"If they can save themselves… why can't I?"
The corners of his mouth curled in a bitter smirk.
"I'll go too. I'll hide aboard that spacecraft. Safe. Alive."
His smirk deepened.
"And if someone catches me? I'll just say —'I'm one of the last hopes of the Resistance. That's why I joined this mission.'"
He chuckled darkly under his breath.
"…And maybe I'll add, 'I came to avenge all the lives lost in this war.'"
The laugh was short. Hollow.
Back to Present – [ABOVE LOADING BAY – STEEL RAILING]
Seraphina — or rather, Ransoku within her — dropped silently from the steel railing to the ground below. She landed lightly, disappearing between stacked cargo containers.
She moved with deliberate precision — quick steps, but quiet. The instincts of a man who had survived countless dangers guided her every movement.
The rear cargo doors of the spacecraft yawned open, a gaping metallic mouth.Inside, crates of fuel tanks, reactor coils, and munitions filled the bay. Ransoku slipped between two towering Craxillon reactor coils, their cold metal humming with stored power. He crouched low, melting into the shadows.
Nearby, two base personnel were inspecting cargo logs and fuel line readouts. Their voices carried easily in the echoing metal chamber.
Tech Officer 1 (with admiration):
"Marshal Ronan… what a man. Heading into the mission alone."
"Good thing we were chosen to be on this ship — heading to that base. It's an honor. Shows our devotion and loyalty to the Resistance."
Technician 2 (agreeing):
"Yeah. Back at the base, people are panicking… but they're brave too, willing to fight. Still… we're lucky to be here.
Soon enough, everyone will know where we're going."
The two exchanged a small laugh.
(Narrator's note: In truth, these two meant they felt "lucky" because they were chosen for a dangerous mission — to be in the decoy base's crew, willing to die for the cause. But Ransoku, overhearing from the shadows, didn't know this. He twisted their words entirely.)
Ransoku's lips curled in contempt as he listened.
Inner Voice (biting):
"Of course you think you're lucky… going to a safe zone. Your feet have never stood anywhere near death."
"If you were really going to the base that's about to be attacked…then you'd understand what 'sacrifice' really means."
He looked away, shaking his head slightly.
"This world is full of people like that. They've fought alongside each other for years…but when death finally shows its face, they run.
And for the poor souls who will die in the real battle…there's not a flicker of grief in these cowards.
They even laugh."
Ransoku leaned his back against one of the fuel modules, the cold steel pressing through his thin tactical shirt. The dim light painted half his face in shadow, the other half in dull metallic glow.
His eyes were tired — not from lack of sleep, but from the constant game of survival. Yet there was a strange pride twisting at his lips.
Inner Voice (mock-proud):
"Forget it, Ransoku… what can you do?
But… I'm smart. This world isn't made for heroes.
It's made for survivors."
His smile widened slightly, though it was empty.
Inner Voice (quietly, to himself):
"And me… I'm still a survivor."
Outside, the loading bay activity grew louder. Grav-lifts whined as they carried the last cargo pallets aboard. A distant voice shouted orders to seal the forward hatch.
Inside the shadows, Ransoku stayed still — the hum of the reactors masking his presence.
From this position, he could almost see the future in his mind: The spacecraft lifting off, leaving the chaos of the base behind. Zargan's forces crashing down on the Resistance's real hideout, far away from him.
And him — safe, untouched, free.
That was the only outcome he cared about.
For now.
In Ransoku's mind, the plan was simple — hide, survive, and leave the war behind.But in a battlefield ruled by fate and chaos… even the safest escape can turn into the deadliest trap.
Chapter 12 – "Lift-Off into the Unknown" – coming next…