Ice Addresses the Islanders Ice finished explaining everything the demons, the fall of the cities, the Heroes, the New World Militia, and the coming war. Tupu listened without interrupting, absorbing every detail.When Ice finished, Tupu folded his arms."Commander Ice… that is a huge request. You ask me to send my people to be slaughtered. Your cause may be pure, but the lives of my people are valuable. I cannot gamble on them."Ice nodded respectfully.
"I understand. And I respect your leadership. I'm not asking you to force anyone. Only this if your people volunteer, will you allow them to join us?" Tupu considered it, then extended his hand. "If they volunteer, I will not stop them." Ice shook his hand firmly.
"Thank you." "Very well," Tupu said. "Let's begin."Ice stood slowly, still sore. Tupu offered his shoulder, helping him balance as they stepped out of the hut.Outside, a crowd of islanders had already gathered, whispering, curious.Tupu raised his voice.
"Our guest has a request. Listen well."He stepped aside, giving Ice the floor.Ice stood tall, looking at every face."People of this great village," he began, "you have shown me hospitality. Kindness. Strength. I see now that your people are good people."The crowd murmured proudly."My name is Ice," he continued. "I am a surviving commander of the New World Militia. I am here to request your aid. We are preparing for a war against our enemy."Someone shouted, "What enemy?" Ice answered plainly.
"The demons. The ones who forced humanity into hiding."The crowd stepped back. Fear spread quickly. Another voice yelled, "The demons don't bother us! Why should we go to them and die?" Many nodded in agreement. Ice raised his hands calmly.
"For now, they leave you alone. But for how long? They can strike at any moment. They will not let humanity rebuild. They will not let us rise again."Silence fell.Then someone shouted, "What if they never attack us again? As long as we behave?" More agreement. Ice saw it in their eyes comfort. Safety. A life they didn't want to risk. He spoke gently.
"I am not here to force anyone. I am asking for volunteers those with bravery in their hearts. If you do not wish to join, that is fine. But please… spread the word to any who might." The crowd slowly dispersed, whispering among themselves. Tupu approached Ice.
"We will see what they decide."Ice nodded. "Tupu… please return my blade. I have to find my friend."
Riot had been walking for hours, the man behind him pacing with a gun aimed at his back. Every step felt heavier. Every breath felt tighter. "Go in there," the man ordered. It was a collapsed building, half‑buried in dirt. A plank of wood covered a narrow crawl‑space. Riot crawled in first. The man followed. Inside, the space was cramped, dusty, and dim. Riot stood slowly. "Where are we?" he asked.The man snapped, "Shut up. Sit over there."He pointed to a corner. Riot hesitated. "Who are you?" The man grinned. "Just call me Mr." Riot frowned. "No… what's your real name?" A gunshot cracked past Riot's head, close enough to make his ears ring. Riot froze.Mr. lowered the gun. "You do not raise your voice in my home. Understand?" Riot nodded quickly. "Good," Mr. said, smiling too wide. "If you listen, you won't get disciplined." His laugh was strange high, shaky, almost playful. Riot watched him, terrified, as Mr. laughed and laughed, like a clown who'd forgotten how to stop.Then suddenly "HEY, KID!" Mr. shouted. "It's your bedtime!" Riot nodded and lay down on the cold floor. Mr. lit a small fire in the center of the space and sat across from him, humming to himself. Eventually, Riot drifted into an uneasy sleep. Hours later, Riot woke up. The fire was low. Mr. was snoring loudly, sprawled on the ground. "This is my chance". Riot thought and stood slowly, careful not to make a sound. He tip‑toed toward the crawl‑space exit. His heart pounded. His hands shook.He reached out ZAP.A jolt of electricity shot through him, knocking him backward. Riot hit the ground, stunned. Mr. burst into laughter. Riot turned, dazed, and confused as Mr. pointed at him, laughing so hard he held his ribs. "You really thought you could escape?" he cackled. Riot struggled to sit up. "What… what was that?" Mr. skipped toward him like a child playing a game. Riot backed up, but Mr. shoved him against the wall."Rules, kid," Mr. said, voice suddenly cold. "You follow them." Riot tried to push back, but Mr. was stronger. He slapped Riot and hit him in the gut with the gun and kept beating him causing Riot to stumble, disoriented, overwhelmed. Mr. stepped back, laughing again — a wild, unhinged sound that echoed in the small space."You really thought you could run," Mr said, shaking his head. "Kids always think they're smarter." Riot's vision blurred. His breathing slowed. The world dimmed. Mr.'s laughter faded into a distant echo as Riot eyes closed.