Nobody ever accused Duratai of being a nervous man. Careful and clever, but never cowardly. His current destination had him on edge however. He piloted his own aircar only a few meters off the ground, leaving a dust trail behind him. He scanned the horizon for any sign of trouble. Flying this low took a toll on the aircar's speed and he had been traveling for a few hours already. Ahead the ruins of an ancient city came into view. He had come to know the city well over the last few years. He was bound for the most notable landmark as usual. The fully intact Carbon-Plastic building. From the sky, one could almost trace the roads that once crisscrossed the great metropolis. Duratai was fond of these places. They were secluded and reminded him of a time before the chosen took over control of the world. He had been born into the resistance and at the age of 52, he had been leading the resistance into a new future for the last five years. He had never seen the top of the islands personally, but he wanted the prosperity he knew thrived there, to be spread equally among the people. He resented the so-called New Gods for their strangle hold on the waters of Cyla.
He circled the tower at a distance. He lowered his speed and altitude as he searched for an appropriate landing spot. Not too close, but still close enough that he could get out if things went sour. Once he found a suitable landing site, he touched down softly never lowering his guard. Once landed he checked his weapon. It would be of little use, but it gave him a sense of readiness. The resistance researchers were close to solving this problem. Before long the resistane would not fear the Mother loving Chosen again. He got out and surveyed his surroundings. Making mental notes of routes and possible ambush spots as was his habbit.
"Let's get to business then." He said to himself. He walked to the tower, guard up and ears open. The fact that he could not divulge his source to the rest of the resistance left him quite vulnerable during these meetings. He alone reaped the benefits and that balance the scales in his eyes.
Arriving at the tower, he saw his co-conspirator waiting in the foyer already. They seemed to be alone also. Not that that helped him. The so-called God of Minds, Troketh, would be dangerous, if not unstoppable even if Duratai brought the full might of the resistance along. The most powerful telekinetic user among the ten Chosen, but also the most devious. He reminded himself that their goals were aligned, at least for now.
"Good afternoon." Troketh greeted merrily.
"Troketh." Duratai replied with a curt nod.
"What progress have you to report?" the God asked, clearly ready to do business without too many preliminary pleasantries.
Duratai dug in his pocket and drew out a bullet and tossed it to Troketh. The round was inspected thoroughly. It resembled a normal bullet only in shape except for retractable stabilizer fins on the back. The entire round was a solid piece. What stood apart was the tip. It looked like a small piece of glass but glowed very faintly red. Troketh smiled broadly and tossed the round back to Duratai.
"And this can be fired by this weapon you have?" Enquired the God.
"Once yes. After that, we need to replace the barrel. My people are working on it still. Though as rare as the ammo is, I'll have my best sniper behind the trigger." Duratai explained.
The Chosen frowned. Then closed his eyes in thought.
"Very well," He said after a moment, "I'll start the preparations. You know that each round fired will cost more than a bullet. You will lose people. There I cannot assist."
"I understand the risks." Confirmed Duratai.
"It is a risk you do not carry alone. No doubt my brother will suspect me, but he won't be able to prove a thing. You know how to get hold of me, Supreme Commander." He added the title with a bit of snark. "We'll meet again in two months for an update."
The God stood and exited the building, walking into the city before rising into the sky with no visible effort. Duratai waited until he was out of sight, then started back to his own vehicle.
"Once I don't need you, I'll give you a personal demonstration," he said to himself, firing a finger gun at an imaginary target. Arriving at his car, he looked up at the lost city with a sigh.
"One day we'll all live freely again" He mused.
He stood there for a few minutes, taking in the sights. Afterward the resistance leader got into his aircar and took off on his hours-long flight once again. This time he was smiling and had renewed determination.