REAL WORLD — Erusaert
The noble Rasfi, close advisor to the King of Eruasert, cast one last glance over the smoking ruins of the kingdom's center before climbing onto his horse.
The bomb had changed everything in an instant: entire districts turned to ash, the cries of survivors echoing between collapsed buildings. Rasfi knew that every minute would matter. He had to understand who was behind this attack before panic spiraled beyond control.
His mission was simple, and yet razor‑sharp with danger: infiltrate the kingdom of Ccare, uncover the truth about the explosion, and bring back reliable information.
But every step was a gamble. Accusations of high treason, constant surveillance, hidden enemies—he had to remain alert at all times. The road to Ccare's border was long and littered with patrols. Rasfi moved along secondary paths, skirting misty hills and irradiated rivers that formed natural barriers.
Morning light bounced off shattered stones, giving the landscape an eerie, unreal sheen.
When he finally reached the border, Rasfi observed the square kingdom of Ccare beyond the imposing walls. Obsidian towers and metallic domes glittered under the sun, silently proclaiming this land's devotion to science and technology.
Guards scanned every face with suspicion. Rasfi inhaled deeply and stepped forward, presenting his noble credentials with calm confidence. For an outsider, a single misstep could be fatal.
— You are passing through, noble Rasfi? asked a guard, eyes sharp behind surveillance lenses.
—Yes, I come on diplomatic business, Rasfi replied smoothly, hiding the tremor in his heart.
Every word was measured, every gesture watched. He knew the rules: to accuse Ccare directly without iron‑clad proof was to sign his own death sentence.
Three days passed like that. Rasfi moved discreetly within Ccare's territory. Each night, under cover of darkness, he communicated with GSJ¹ using the shimmering hexagon— a rare, secure nighttime communication device.
When the green light of the hexagon flickered on, Rasfi sent brief reports, transmitting them before the device died ten minutes later. Tension hung heavy in the air: one careless instant, and the transmitter could be discovered.
On the third evening, while surveying Ccare's labs and libraries, Rasfi froze at a sound behind a pillar. A massive, menacing presence was approaching.
His pulse quickened. Impossible… he whispered. A dark silhouette emerged from the shadows. Before he could react, the shimmering hexagon sputtered and went silent.
Hello? the GSJ voice had shouted over the device. Only a broken signal answered. Rasfi tried to restart the transmitter—useless. The stranger watched him in silence, motionless.
Rasfi understood: this face, this presence, was not meant to be here. Every muscle strained. His own life—and that of his kingdom—hinged on what happened next.
Far away, the GSJ waited anxiously. Interrupted messages, the lack of new reports, and heavy silence at the border made them fear the worst. Rasfi had not only been endangered—he was now cut off, unknown, possibly trapped inside a plot beyond imagination.
Who was the mysterious figure Rasfi had just encountered? And what intentions hid behind that sudden appearance?
Eruasert, already weakened by the bomb, now stood at the mercy of invisible enemies. The truth about the attack slipped further from reach, like smoke in the wind.
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¹ GSJ: Government Sci‑Just