An hour later, Mitra and Judy reach the small abandoned town—broken, empty, long vacated; a relic of the past. A dilapidated water tank lies destroyed near the city gates.
A dry wind blows. The sky looks different from the Neutral Territory and the Ghost City—clear and strangely blue.
Judy takes out an ointment and applies it on her face.
"What happened?" Mitra asks.
"We don't need the mask anymore. Here—put this on your face."
She throws the tin box at him.
He applies it.
"This feels good! So cool… comfortable. What is this made of?"
"Natural herbs. Your mother taught me. So did the Shadow Tribes."
"It's a mixture of mint and the red mountain flower."
"Great. So where are the weapons?"
"Come."
"Wait! Let me turn on the panel."
Mitra switches on the solar panel for the engine, puts the ointment in his backpack, and follows Judy toward the building.
The Admiral
The Admiral hides his emotions and checks the preparations with Preston at the aero-facility, covered by an anti-UV sheet over the large helipad. The aero-facility functions like a mobile airport for small-scale Imperial military operations.
The aircraft resembles an upgraded version of the old Ilyushin Il-76—an eight-engine turbofan strategic airlifter equipped with automated machinery: a machine gun, flamethrower, smoke-bomb dispensers, and oil sprinklers at the lower front. The mechanisms are being lubricated for proper operation and will retract into the lower fuselage like landing gear.
Inside, the ship is structured like a small naval vessel: a central deck for Admiral Arjun to command from, with two additional levels—upper and lower. A lift-capsule connects the decks. The medic bay and canteen occupy the upper level. The exterior is painted brown with militarised markings and the Imperial emblem: a red background, the world outlined in black, surrounded by blue and yellow stars.
As Arjun observes the aircraft, Imperial troops glance at him with fear and hatred—but bow regardless.
Passing the tail section along the right fuselage, Arjun asks, "When will it be ready, Preston?"
"Half an hour."
"Good."
"May I ask something in private?"
"Sure."
They step toward the tip of the fuselage.
"What are you trying to prove? Was it necessary to kill Kingsley?" Preston asks.
"It was necessary."
"Even with all your power, these troops will hate you."
"Are you threatening me with a mutiny, Preston?"
"I want you to be reasonable. Killing Kingsley was a mistake."
"I see."
Arjun stares directly at him.
"What about your family?"
Preston frowns. "What about them?"
"You have a son and a daughter, right?"
"What are you trying to say?"
"Well… I was thinking of putting them into labour camps. Would that be alright for you?"
Preston freezes in disbelief—then realises Arjun means it. He grabs the Admiral's shirt and shoves him against the fuselage.
"I dare you, you double-crossing son of a bitch!"
Arjun replies coldly, "Take your hands off me."
Preston pushes harder. Arjun punches him. Preston collapses.
Nearby troops stop working.
"Nothing personal, Captain Preston. No questions asked."
Preston sits on the ground and cries.
"I beg you—please, don't hurt my family. Please!"
"What about the innocent ones you killed in cold blood?"
"You did it too!"
Arjun leans over him.
"And for whom—and why—did we do it?"
Preston rises slowly, exhaling in anger.
"All in the name of the Imperial Regime."
"That's right. Keep it that way. Prepare the troops—we take off immediately."
Judy and Mitra Arm Themselves
Judy walks toward the storage room, opens the door, and reveals weapons scattered across the floor—long-range rifles, machine guns, automatics. She drags a bomb from the corner and loads it onto the trailer outside the window.
Mitra helps her retrieve and load weapons until the trailer is filled.
Judy releases the trailer and climbs down.
"Is that it?"
"Yes. We don't have much here. We'll be using catapults to fight them."
"Catapults? Are you out of your mind? You want to fight Imperials with primitive weapons?"
"We have no choice. We'll try our best."
"This is suicide. The Imperials will crush us."
"Our focus is finding Paradise. The Shadow Tribes will hold them off. They can bring down the aircraft with catapults."
"That won't be enough. Their aircraft are extremely powerful—I've seen them myself."
He exhales deeply.
"These guns will only delay the Imperials on the ground. They won't stop them. Whatever we do… we have to do it quickly."
Judy feels helpless but hides it, "Let fate be with us. Come—let's check the weapons. Pick up those pistols."
Mitra ignores her, "Judy… you don't understand. You can't win this. Not like this."
Judy says calmly, "Help us defeat them."
"I can't—with low ammo."
She sighs, "Mitra, the Imperials want everyone to believe they are invincible. But no one is invincible. One day the Imperials will fall, and the good will rise. When there is hope for a lost paradise, there is sanity for equality—among humans and nature. We don't need ammo when we have the heart to fight."
Her words touch him. He nods, looks around, picks up an old Imperial service revolver.
"This was the first model I ever used."
"Well—mine is this.", she lifts a katana.
"Rough edges, huh?"
She takes out a metal file.
"I need to sharpen it. Let's go down."
As they descend, Mitra studies her—she is becoming a guide… a leader.
Can she trust me? Am I truly a rebel?
Outside, she hands him an automatic weapon. Their eyes meet for a moment.
Mitra reloads it, checks the trigger and safety, then hands it back.
"What?" he asks.
Judy smiles, "Well… it works."
"Put it in the vehicle then."
Mitra picks up a shotgun, loads two shells, aims at a sharp rock, and fires—perfect hit. Then a semi-rifle—perfect. Then he shoots at broken glass high in the building—shattering it.
Judy watches, impressed. She sharpens the katana, checks bombs, grenades, tear gas.
She grabs two rifles.
"Hey Mitra! Let's see who's faster."
She tosses one to him.
They aim at the same rock.
Mitra hits precisely. Judy misses.
"Reload!" she shouts.
They shoot again. Mitra hits. Judy nearly matches him.
"You're quite the shooter," she says.
Mitra turns—Judy suddenly leaps and knocks him to the ground.
"Let's see how you fight!"
She swings the katana. He dodges. She tackles him, he rolls away. She pins him, raising the blade to his throat—eyes blazing.
"Either punch me or cut my throat. Make up your mind," he says.
She presses the blade harder—then drops it, shouting, "I wish I could kill you! It's so hard!"
Mitra's sadness shows. "You were waiting for that moment. Why?"
"I don't know. When I see you, I feel like I'm betraying my friends. You're an Imperial hound. Because of you, rebels died and others were thrown in labour camps. And now you want to join us? I can't trust you. I wish Gayatri never had a son!"
Mitra closes his eyes, looks at the interceptor.
"What shall I do then? Leave you alone?"
He drops his gun.
"Take the interceptor. It's yours."
He turns away.
"Stop!" Judy calls, "We'll go together. I'm confused. I have no one to trust, no one to talk to. My parents… gone. Your mother took care of me like family."
"I don't have anyone either," Mitra says. "I never open up to anyone."
"Then why do I doubt you? Why?" she cries. "Why am I asking a bounty hunter?"
"I'm not anymore."
He steps closer, "You're crying."
"Yeah." ,she wipes her eyes.
"What would my mother say if she saw you like this?", He brushes her hair gently.
Judy lets out a small laugh.
"She always said—'Buckle up.' Always."
"Only 'buckle up'?"
"Yeah."
"Then buckle up, soldier. Buckle up."
"Too bad, Mitra."
She smiles faintly.
They rise. She takes his hand as he pulls her up.
"Are we good?" he asks.
"Yeah… we're good. Let's go to the tribe."
They load weapons into the vehicle.
Mitra asks, "Tell me something about my mother—apart from being a rebel."
"She was kind. She loved children. Even elders called her 'Mother.' She belonged to nature—completely."
"That's why the Imperials hated her."
"She had wonder in her eyes like a child—yet wisdom. When she discovered the paradise location, she was filled with joy."
"My father loved her deeply."
"In devastating times… hope still survives."
They take their seats and Judy starts the vehicle toward the Shadow Tribes.
Arjun Prepares for War
Arjun gears up. Stella watches with grief.
"Is this necessary?" she asks.
"I have no choice."
"But he didn't order you—"
"Yet he's dissatisfied."
"I don't want to lose you."
"Stella… if I don't come back," he whispers, holding her tight, "take Sheila and Neil to the rebels. Tell them the Imperial loopholes."
She is shocked, "But… why?"
"You'll be safe there. The Imperial Regime must end. I've kept a hacked communicator in my drawer. Contact them."
"They'll hate us."
"If I die, my family will have no future. I know what they do to families of dead troopers."
"Arjun… how can I leave without you? Abort the mission. For us. For our children."
"I don't have much time."
The communicator rings—his departure call. He kisses her deeply, holds her, then pulls away. He puts on his mask.
Stella doesn't want to let go.
Arjun leaves the office, exits the Imperial Building, and walks straight to the airfield. He boards the aircraft through the tail. Troopers salute him. Preston follows him to the cockpit.
The pilot starts the engines. The anti-UV sheets retract. The aircraft lifts off and heads toward the Shadow Tribes.
Arjun looks out the window, lifts his mask, guilt sinking into him. Preston watches silently.
Arjun steps onto the bridge overlooking the lower decks—troopers loading guns, grenades, smoke bombs.
He commands, "Attention! We are here to find Mitra and Judy. Capture alive—try them for treason. Use smoke bombs. If attacked, fight back. If they flee into the mountains, pursue them."
Someone secretly listening in the Imperial Building transmits Arjun and Stella's conversation to the Governor.
The Shadow Tribes
Judy stops the vehicle near the cliff and opens the door. Mitra follows her.
"Is this the place?" he asks as he sees the hillock covered in bushes, with no trace of life. Judy nods and begins yodelling, the sound echoing across the hill.
Mitra, surprised, asks, "What are you doing?"
Judy doesn't respond and continues yodelling. Mitra watches in amazement as the bushes begin to shift, revealing cave-like openings. The echoes return from within the vegetation.
Judy stops and smiles to herself. She looks at Mitra.
"Come on, you try."
"What? I don't know how to do that!"
"Ha!" she laughs. "Follow me!"
Mitra tries but fails miserably, producing a terrible sound. As Judy continues, men and women of the Shadow Tribes emerge from the hidden caves, swinging down on ropes. The caves—camouflaged with thick vegetation—would be invisible to anyone unfamiliar with the territory. The tribespeople form a rectangular formation, standing with spears, bows, and arrows in a traditional gesture of welcome.
Judy waves at them. "Let's go," she tells Mitra.
"Yeah…" But he sits on the cliff, overwhelmed by the sight. The peaceful presence of the tribes makes him momentarily forget everything.
"What happened?" Judy asks, turning back.
"This is fascinating. It's so full of life. I've never seen anything like this."
"Well, this is how we all should be."
Judy reaches out a hand. Mitra rises, and she pulls him up. They run toward the vehicle and climb in.
Mitra looks at Judy as she turns to him. "What?"
"I feel something different… I don't know. I feel so close to you."
Judy doesn't answer, but she holds his hand, sending a shiver through him.
Mitra whispers, voice breaking, "I never felt—" He stops as tears form in his eyes. "I always dreamed of being with someone… to share a life. I don't know if it's you… maybe…"
"A moment ago you tried to kill yourself."
"I deserved that."
"You've always been a cold-hearted monster."
"After losing my vengeance… I just want someone. Someone with joy. Someone who understands nature. Someone like you. Wherever it leads… even if it leads to my end."
Judy still harbours doubts. She lets go of his hand, starts the Interceptor, and drives down the sloping path toward the Shadow Tribes. She feels drawn to him, yet something holds her back. Mitra seems to understand that.
"I hated the Imperial Regime," he says quietly. "Always. There was no peace for me. My first kill was at thirteen. I never knew what he felt. Passing the test got me into the regime."
"Let the past die," Judy says.
"But I can't."
"Try."
Mitra looks outside. The land around them was once a massive mining ground, now abandoned. It used to hold mountains and rivers, but overuse destroyed them. Only a few mountains remain, protected by the Forest Protection Act. The Fictional Narrative Protocol claims the isolated mountain near the Shadow Tribes is filled with toxic gas and dangerous materials.
As they continue down the narrow path, the vehicle reaches the plains. The tribes await them. Judy stops.
Both step out. The tribal leader, a wise young man wearing a robe stitched with symbols of nature, approaches them warmly.
"How have you been, Shafiq?" she asks.
"As nature allows, we live. When nature takes our souls, we become one," he replies, shaking her hand. "Welcome home, Judy. Good to see you again. Where is Gayatri?"
"She was killed by an Imperial officer named Preston."
Shafiq's face falls. He turns to his tribe, closes his eyes, and raises his voice: "Beloved Gayatri, our cherished soul. You are now part of nature, as you always wished. May your spirit rest in peace."
The tribes—also wearing nature-stitched robes—follow his gesture. Judy and Mitra bow their heads as well.
Then Shafiq begins to yodel, followed by the tribe and Judy. Mitra cannot follow, but he whispers softly: "Gayatri… let your spirit be the strength of all humanity. We are one."
Shafiq turns to Judy again, "Tell me, Judy. What brings you here?"
Judy opens her eyes, "We found the location of Paradise."
Shafiq remains calm, "Where?"
"Under the isolated mountain."
"She was right then. Right for us to be here."
"She was never wrong," Judy replies.
Mitra steps forward. Shafiq approaches him.
"He is Mitra, Gayatri's son," Judy explains.
"May you join us in this cause, son of Gayatri," Shafiq says. "I stood by her whenever she needed me. We vowed to protect nature and restore this land. Mother Nature is our world. We are the shadows who guard it—as we guard the mountain."
"Help me understand nature," Mitra says. "I want to fight the Imperials."
"As with all living beings, you must feel it, learn it, and protect it," Shafiq replies. "Your identity doesn't matter. Life does—peace and tranquillity do. That is strength passed to future generations. We serve Mother Nature. We have no right to destroy her. And the Imperial Regime must pay for their crimes."
"They're coming with their aircraft," Judy says.
"Then they will be here within an hour or two."
"We brought weapons for you."
"We vowed not to use weapons anymore."
"We have no choice," Judy insists.
"This is wrong, Judy."
"They won't stop without a fight."
"We have our catapults."
"That won't be enough to bring the aircraft down."
"How many aircraft?" Shafiq asks.
"One. The Ghost City only had room for one," Mitra answers.
"We must stop them before they track us to the mountain," Judy adds.
Shafiq thinks for a moment, "Very well. We will bring them down."
"Long live Mother Nature!" Judy shouts.
"Long live Mother Nature!" the tribe echoes — including Mitra.
They begin walking toward the small hill as the remaining tribes welcome Judy and Mitra with songs of peace and long life.
To be Continued: Chapter 10: The Storm