Aarakis stretched around us, silent yet alive in its stillness. The narrow streets felt like veins in a sleeping giant, pulsing with an invisible rhythm. Lanterns burned softly, casting their light against stone walls slick with the mist of the cooling night. The air was heavy, damp against my skin, and smelled faintly of smoke and metal—the residue of a city never truly at rest.
We moved steadily, the sound of our boots blending with the occasional creak of shutters or distant clatter of a lone cart. No one paid us any mind. For now, the city seemed indifferent to our presence, but I kept my pace brisk, unwilling to linger longer than necessary.
Tarek walked to my right, silent as ever, his steps measured and deliberate. He had a way of blending into the background despite his imposing frame. Zeri, on the other hand, stayed a pace ahead, her restlessness clear in the occasional glance she threw over her shoulder. She hadn't said much since we left the scene of the fight, but her tension was palpable.
It was Zeri who broke the silence first, her voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. "We'll make it, right? Get to the Dustrider, head to the gates, and leave this place behind?"
"We'll make it," I replied, my tone steady. "But we stick to the plan. Straight to the workshop, no stops. I don't want us caught up in anything we don't need to be."
Tarek nodded slightly, but his focus was elsewhere, his eyes scanning the corners of the narrow alley we passed through. "You think the Dustrider's been tampered with?"
"Doubt it," I said, though I couldn't dismiss the thought entirely. "It's tucked away, not exactly something you stumble across. And we didn't leave it in the open."
As we rounded the final bend toward the workshop, its familiar structure came into view. Lanterns flickered faintly above the double doors, the soft light barely cutting through the night. Relief tugged at the corners of my mind, but it didn't last long.
A group of figures stood clustered near the entrance, their silhouettes unmistakable against the lantern's glow. Guards, at least six of them, flanked by a man in finer attire—a city official, no doubt. They didn't look like they were there for idle conversation.
Zeri's hand went to her dagger instinctively, though she didn't draw it. "Well," she muttered, her voice low, "that's a warm welcome."
The official stepped forward, his expression unreadable under the shadow of his hat. "This vehicle," he began, his voice calm but with a faint edge, "is being confiscated by order of the city. It lacks the proper clearance for operation within Aarakis."
The metallic clang of boots against the cobblestones echoed faintly in the cool night air. The guards stood like statues around the Dustrider, their postures unnervingly casual yet deliberate. Their eyes followed us as we approached, sharp and calculating.
Aldyn's voice broke the silence before the tension could fully settle. "Evening," he said, the edges of his tone light and conversational. "Quite the turnout. Is there a parade I missed, or did my old girl here suddenly become a national treasure?"
The official, a man in a dark coat with polished silver trim, smirked faintly. "She's certainly drawn attention, hasn't she? Unfortunately, she's also in violation of city regulations. No permits, no registry. Therefore, she's property of the city until further notice."
Zeri muttered under her breath, barely audible. "What a load of—"
"Zeri," Aldyn interrupted smoothly, glancing back with a quick smile that carried a warning beneath its warmth. "Let's hear the man out. Maybe we missed something in the paperwork. It happens."
The official's smirk deepened, his gaze shifting briefly to Zeri. "You'd do well to listen to your leader, miss. Sharp tongues rarely fare well in these matters."
Tarek shifted uneasily beside her, his eyes flicking to the guards gripping their weapons with calculated ease. "Aldyn," he said quietly, "this doesn't feel like a routine check."
"Routine or not," Aldyn replied, turning his full attention back to the official, "I'm sure there's a way to resolve this amicably. We're reasonable folk, after all."
The man stepped closer, his tone softening into something almost friendly. "Of course, cooperation is key. A city like Aarakis values those who understand how things work. Generosity can expedite the most tedious of processes."
Aldyn chuckled lightly, the sound almost genuine. "Generosity? I'm all for contributing to local customs, but you'll have to be clearer. Are we talking donations, community service, or..." He let the sentence hang, the humor in his voice deliberately disarming.
One of the guards snorted, but the official maintained his composure. "Let's call it a gesture of goodwill."
"Ah," Aldyn said, his expression shifting into exaggerated understanding. "Goodwill. A fine tradition. What might the going rate for goodwill be these days?"
The man's smirk faltered briefly, his composure momentarily disrupted by Aldyn's casual confidence. Behind him, Zeri's tension was palpable, her hand gripping her dagger tightly. Aldyn shot her a glance, the subtle shake of his head calming her just enough.
The air between us was thick with unspoken threats as Aldyn took another step forward, his body language open but deliberate. The guards shifted just enough to show they were watching, their hands resting on weapons in a display that was casual only on the surface.
The official tilted his head, his smirk returning. "You seem like a practical man, but your companions…" His gaze flicked to Zeri and then Tarek. "They look a bit… eager. Makes a person wonder if there's something more than permits missing."
Zeri's knuckles were white against her belt, but Aldyn intercepted her glare with a quick, almost imperceptible wink. "Oh, they're eager all right," Aldyn said smoothly, gesturing toward the Dustrider. "Can't blame them. She's a beauty, and we've been on the road a while. Home comforts are hard to come by out here."
"Home comforts," the man echoed, his tone almost mocking. "Is that what you call bypassing local ordinances?"
Tarek cleared his throat, his usual composure fraying at the edges. "With all due respect, this feels a little excessive for missing paperwork. Surely there's a better way to handle this."
The guard to the official's left chuckled, low and rumbling. "Better for you, maybe. But we've got rules for a reason, don't we?"
"Rules are important," Aldyn interjected before the tension could spike further. "Absolutely crucial to keeping things running smoothly. And as a guest in your fine city, I'd hate to be the one causing unnecessary headaches."
The official took another step closer, his boots crunching softly against the cobblestones. "You're a quick learner, I'll give you that. The kind of man who knows when to take the path of least resistance."
"Call it an instinct," Aldyn replied, his tone as light as the smile he wore. "Now, let's say we show our goodwill—strictly as a gesture of respect, of course. What exactly are we looking at?"
The official's smirk turned sharp. "For something this... sensitive? Let's say a hundred silver, and we'll forget this little misunderstanding."
The number hit like a blow to the gut. Zeri's gasp was audible, and even Tarek stiffened. "That's robbery," Zeri hissed, her voice barely restrained.
Aldyn raised a hand, his smile never wavering. "Robbery is such an ugly word. Let's call it an investment in a long-term understanding. How about eighty?"
The man's expression remained unchanged. "A hundred."
For a heartbeat, Aldyn's mask of levity cracked, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "Well," he said, exhaling like he'd just lost a friendly game of dice, "I suppose goodwill doesn't come cheap these days."
He reached into his coat, pulling out the heavy pouch of coins they'd scraped together from their last job. The sound of silver clinking as he handed it over felt like nails on a chalkboard. The official took it with a satisfied nod, gesturing lazily to his men. "Pleasure doing business. Your vehicle's yours—for now."
As the guards began to disperse, Zeri muttered, "For now? What the hell does that mean?"
Aldyn ignored her, turning back to Tarek. "Let's just get moving before they come up with another reason to bleed us dry."
The guards had just begun to disperse when their leader, the smirking official with the cold eyes, stopped in his tracks. He turned back, his gaze locking onto Aldyn with unsettling precision. "Hold up," he called out, his voice cutting clean through the night. "A word, if you don't mind."
Aldyn felt Zeri bristle beside him, her hand instinctively twitching toward her blade, but he silenced her with a subtle gesture. "Go ahead," he murmured, his tone measured. "Get the Dustrider ready. I'll handle this."
Zeri hesitated, but Tarek tugged her sleeve, guiding her toward the vehicle. Aldyn approached the official, his movements calm and deliberate, though his mind raced with possible outcomes. The guard's men stayed back, forming a loose circle around the vehicle, their postures neutral but watchful.
"Private conversation," the official said, jerking his head toward a shadowy corner of the courtyard. Aldyn followed, careful to keep the man within his peripheral vision at all times. When they were out of earshot, the guard leaned against the wall, his smirk softening into something resembling respect—or pity.
"You've got an hour," the man said flatly.
Aldyn raised an eyebrow, keeping his expression neutral. "Generous of you."
"Don't misunderstand," the guard replied, crossing his arms. "I'm not in the habit of sticking my neck out for strangers. But you… you know how to play the game. You show respect to the right people. That goes a long way in a place like this."
Aldyn didn't respond, letting the silence coax the man to continue.
"This city…" The guard's voice dropped, his eyes scanning the empty streets. "It has rules. Unwritten ones. You broke a few just by showing up, and I've already stuck mine out further than I should. You've got an hour to get out. After that…" He left the thought unfinished, his meaning clear.
Aldyn nodded slowly. "Appreciate the courtesy."
The guard chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. "Just don't waste it."
Without another word, Aldyn turned on his heel and walked back to the group. He gestured sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We're leaving. Now."
They climbed into the Dustrider in tense silence, Zeri fuming in the passenger seat while Tarek muttered under his breath about luck and timing. Aldyn gunned the engine, the vehicle roaring to life as they tore down the narrow streets, heading for the southern gates.
The towering walls of Aarakis shrank in the rearview mirror as they crossed into the open desert, but Aldyn's grip on the wheel tightened. Something gnawed at him—a presence he couldn't shake.
A glance at the side mirror confirmed his suspicion. Headlights, distant but unmistakable, trailed them in the darkness.
"Eyes up," Aldyn said, his voice low but urgent. "We've got company."
A ripple of recognition coursed through me as the hulking figure emerged from the dust cloud, flanked by the sleek outlines of four fast-moving bikes. The massive construct towered over the dunes—a "Predator Pursuit Golem." Its frame shimmered in the moonlight, crafted from Nobrium alloy with an outer layer of ceramic runes glowing faintly blue. Sleek yet imposing, it was a deadly amalgamation of engineering and magic.
"Predator-class Pursuit Golem," I muttered, gripping the wheel as I swerved to avoid a jagged outcrop. "Four meters tall, twelve tons of military-grade death. Fast, relentless, and built to kill."
Zeri's head snapped toward me, eyes wide. "You're joking, right? Those things are restricted tech. Who the hell even—"
"Not the time!" I cut her off. "See those shoulder mounts? Incendiary launchers. The arm rig—plasma gatling. And the shields—it's carrying a damned rune field."
"Lovely," she groaned, gripping the dash.
Tarek leaned forward, squinting at the bikes flanking the golem. They zipped around like hungry wolves, their sleek frames gleaming with faint magical auras. "Those are Ventral Strikes—elf-make. Crystal-powered runic cycles."
"Recon and harassment units," I added grimly. "Fast as hell, and they've got small arms for long-range combat. This isn't random. Someone sent these after us."
"Focus!" Zeri snapped as the golem halted suddenly, the faint hum of its core rising in pitch. Runes along its massive cannon flared, and the ominous whine of the plasma gatling reached a crescendo.
"Hold on!" I barked, wrenching the wheel hard to the left as a barrage of glowing projectiles rained down. The first burst tore through the air where we'd been, detonating into a plume of sand and fire.
The Ventral Strikes fanned out, their riders aiming small rune-carved rifles at us. Sparks of magical energy peppered the Dustrider, sizzling against the vehicle's reinforced hull. One of them darted dangerously close, attempting to cut off our path.
"Damn it!" Tarek shouted, gripping his seat as the Dustrider bucked under the sudden maneuver.
"They're boxing us in!" Zeri yelled, glancing back at the towering golem as it resumed its march, each step sending tremors through the ground.
"I see it," I growled, pushing the engine harder. The dashboard blared warnings as the Dustrider protested the strain. "We don't have time to fight. Just hold on!"
The second wave came fast—a mix of plasma fire from the golem and incendiary rounds from the bikes. The night erupted in fiery chaos, heat rippling through the air. Sand burned and glassed under the onslaught, and the Dustrider roared as it powered through the narrowing gauntlet.
"They're pushing us toward a kill zone!" Tarek warned, pointing ahead.
"Not if I can help it," I muttered, eyes scanning the terrain. There had to be a way out—if we lived long enough to find it.