Several seconds passed and the Lead Sentinel said nothing.
Silence settled like a cloud of smoke, broken only by the soft rustle of wind brushing through the tall grass.
Then he smiled again. "You know, I like smart people."
His tone was almost casual—almost.
"If you had asked how many she counted, or whether it matched the report, I would've killed you on the spot." He took a step forward, boots brushing the earth. "It's good that you know your place, soldier."
The Lead Sentinel held up the report.
"It states there are twenty-three False Pages… and luckily for you, twenty-three were recovered."
Marcus exhaled, the faintest breath slipping through his lips.
And this didn't go unnoticed by the Lead Sentinel.
"You look relieved," his tone shifted, turning cold. "Well, I suppose you should be. At least for now, we have no grounds to take your life…" He leaned forward slightly, "…for now."
Was that a mistake in the report? Or is he still trying to trick me by playing with the numbers?
A chill ran through Marcus. For a brief moment, it felt like a blade hovered just above his neck.
I didn't even make it obvious but he still caught it. This man is too sharp… too dangerous.
The smile on the Lead Sentinel's face vanished.
"But there's the next issue," he said. "While it is an open secret, Awakened Military Personnel must register with the Empire. Officially. So that raises the question…"
He circled slowly.
"When did you awaken? Just after the classified shipment had been compromised? Or maybe someone gave you a False Scroll after you left the court. Or maybe… maybe there were more than twenty-three in the cargo and someone failed to report them."
He paused behind Marcus.
"I won't blame you for the incompetence—or the corruption—of others. But I am curious…" His softened, but carried danger in it.
"How did you awaken?"
Marcus had already prepared a rough story where: he found a strange scroll in his house after receiving his sentence to the Second Ring. Curious but unaware of its nature and contents, he took it. Then during a gunfight, injured and cornered, he suddenly awakened.
He was just about to speak when the Lead Sentinel raised a hand.
"You don't have to tell me," he said, smiling faintly. "We all have a secret or two, don't we?" He winked.
Unsure of how to react, Marcus's words died in his throat.
The Lead Sentinel's tone was easy, almost friendly, but that only made it worse. He knew too much, and Marcus couldn't tell if he was being offered a choice… or a trap.
The Sentinel continued with a thoughtful voice. "You don't have much time left, do you? If the train had stayed on course—traveling at Mach-4—you would already be beyond the First Ring's border. But now? With a truck? You're looking at a two-day journey to the Second Ring."
He paused, then added with a note of false sympathy, "Unless, of course… You can fly."
Flight? Is he mocking me now?
Marcus didn't move, but his thoughts raced.
Flight, in this age, had long been forbidden. Aircraft existed, yes, but only the Imperial family or those bearing an Imperial Edict had the right to board such vehicles and soar the skies. They rarely used them. The skies of this Empire weren't for the common people. They belonged to the truly powerful.
And he knew that. Everyone did.
So why say it? Was he offering help… or hunting for another excuse to kill him?
Once again, Marcus began wondering if he should run away. At least this time, deserting the group wouldn't put anyone in danger as long as he leaves the territory of the First Ring. But he shook the thought away.
When the Lead Sentinel said that it would almost take him two days to reach the Second Ring. Marcus understood he was speaking under the assumption that the journey would be made by truck. If Marcus fled on foot, the trip would take even longer to complete.
And if word of his presence in the First Ring reached headquarters in Eawan, there was no doubt in his mind that they would hunt him down.
The thought of stealing a truck briefly crossed his mind, but that would only hand the Lead Sentinel a clear excuse to execute him. One wrong move, and he was done.
This was the third time since meeting the man that Marcus found himself boxed in. Since his arrest, he felt as if he had been walking on a knife's edge—and not by choice. Every decision had become a gamble. Every breath felt borrowed.
And he hated it.
The pressure reminded him too much of home—where he had grown up. It reminded him of the quiet oppression his family endured at the Border.
The Lead Sentinel slowly exhaled with his gaze still fixed on Marcus. "I can see that I've put you in a tight spot," he said with a soft voice and a mocking sympathy. "By regulation, once your grace period ends… we're well within our rights to execute you.
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"But that would be unfortunate, wouldn't it?" He added gently.
At this point, Marcus was tired of being toyed with by the Lead Sentinel. He didn't answer, and he didn't need to. The knife on his throat hadn't moved away, it only got closer.
"I have been cursed with a soft heart," the Lead Sentinel said in a low voice. "I can't stand to see a talent like yours wasted. But I am also a soldier of the Empire—bound by duty, by orders."
He paused, waiting to see Marcus's reaction to his leeway, however, he was met with a frown.
"I can protect your life until we reach the Second Ring," the Sentinel continued, unfazed. "Under the legal grounds of testing your adaptability to harsh conditions. It's not a lie… and more importantly, it's more within regulation.
Marcus remained quiet, eyeing the man. He couldn't read him at all. The offer sounded too convenient, too neatly packaged. He couldn't help but wonder if this was a trick or a ploy from the faction he was under that wanted him dead.
"What do I have to do to deserve that?" Edged with suspicion, he spoke calmly.
The Lead Sentinel laughed, amused. "Who says that you have to do anything?"
He tilted his head, studying Marcus. When the silence stretched, his smile widened. This kid's hard to read and he's smart… I like that. A wide smile appeared on his face.
"Fine. I'll stop toying with you," his tone shifted and the air grew heavier with the shift. "Let's get serious."
"Two conditions." He said. "First, you fight with my men on the way back. I'll throw into battles against enemies or beasts stronger than you, but I won't send you to your death. You'll have to carry your weight."
Marcus nodded. That, he could accept. It was reasonable to an extent.
"And second…" The Lead Sentinel's gaze sharpened. "Once we reach the barracks in the Second Ring, I want you to apply to join my squad. What do you say?"