Hoplite finished off the last living cultist in the facility, slicing him cleanly in half with his monowire. This strange base seemed to resemble that of a medieval castle, with stone walls, sconces, strange paintings and more. He didn’t know how they had managed to hide something like this from Ternan authorities, but Hoplite didn’t really care. All that mattered now was that they were dead, no more problems would arise from these freaks. He had also killed their stock of mutant servants, the squat green ones.

  It had been easy, no one here seemed to possess even the most basic ballistic weaponry. All they wielded were crossbows and bladed weapons that were useless against the Kryptes suit. At least, they would have been useless, had they managed to even land a hit off on him. His cloaking had ensured that wouldn’t happen. Why were they so under armed…? Was all that talk about this being an alternate dimension true?

  He shook his head, that was impossible, these humans had just gone insane and had reverted to a medieval way of thinking. Lord Jyn would- His thoughts became fuzzy again, and he froze, shaking his head. What was he thinking about? Ah yes, leaving this place. He had found the entrance easily enough, it was a barred gate made of iron, designed to rise once a lever was pulled.

  It led outside for sure, for daylight bled between the bars to illuminate the dark halls. He kept his cloaking active, flipping a large lever next to the gate and seeing it rise. Hoplite waited a minute after it was fully raised, seeing if someone would come investigate why it had opened… and that’s exactly what happened. Two armored men wielding poleaxes peeked their heads around the corner, their eyes narrowed.

  “No one’s there?” One asked, looking to the other.

  “Aye… it's strange yeah?” The other asked.

  “Should we go investigate?”

  “They pay us to stand out here and look pretty.” The other replied, “I ain’t going in there, and you shouldn’t either. Who knows what those Shenra weirdos get up to.”

  “Don’t speak so casually!” The other guard whispered harshly, “They might turn you into a toad or somesuch.”

  “Doubt it. I’d like to see em’ try. I’m a real man, unlike you.”

  They then pulled their heads away from the entrance, continuing to jabber and leaving Hoplite to consider his options. These two didn’t seem like they understood exactly what was going on within this castle, being paid to stand guard outside. Killing them may not be necessary… but if they knew that this was at least against Ternan law, they’d be accomplices. Execution still seemed the most optimal choice here.

  Was it truly something he needed to do though? These two said so themselves, they have no idea what goes on within this facility, just that they’re being paid to stand guard. This situation was not unfamiliar to him. How many corrupt First Arm nobility had he killed that hired people just like this to protect their property? He had never killed those unless it was mission critical, executing these men while letting those others live didn’t sit right with him.

  For now, he’d spare the gate guards, they wouldn't want or be able to restart operations here, and once they decided to investigate the castle… they’d never want to return here again. He walked through the open gate casually, passing the gossiping guards and entering into a courtyard. A statue stood tall above a flowing marble fountain, depicting a bat-winged monstrosity with two human faces and the body of a wolf. One face was sneering in disgust, while the other laughed, seemingly in mockery.

  Was that the ‘god’ that they served? It was putrid. A plaque on the fountain read, ‘Devoted to our lord Shenra, God of Trickery’. Hoplite sneered back at the statue, desiring to split it apart with his monowire. However, doing so would unfortunately reveal that he was there, so he abstained. Once he got back to the Eighth Arm, he’d need to report this place. If these guards got arrested and re-indoctrinated, then oh well.

  If they had any sense they would leave, just as Hoplite was doing now. He moved through the courtyard and toward another gate, this one closed just like the other one. Several other guards stood watch over the wall, more on guard than the two stationed at the inner gate. It was a good thing that Hoplite had killed the cultists as quickly as he had, for these men would no doubt be on high alert had any escaped.

  He’d not open the gate this time, instead, he’d opt to climb the wall. The Adium spikes were not needed, the thin grooves of the stone brickwork would provide all the grip he’d need. Now that he was looking up, he noticed something odd about the sky… it must have been sunset to produce that color, but he’d not seen this on any other world before. It was a very deep shade of purple. It was bizarre but this was nothing compared to being eaten and then spat out by the glowing green ovoid.

  Once he reached the top of the wall however… he very nearly gasped at what he saw below. The sun was… it was beneath, shining up from the infinite void below. Masses of land floated throughout this void, some small, others large. They were both above and below him… even the land he stood on now, this facility that he had thought was back on the colony that he’d just liberated… It too, was a floating island.

  His eyes nearly popped from the shock of it all. Hoplite felt something akin to nausea as he looked down into the purple expanse. Would he fall forever if he stepped off this island right now? Would he exit the atmosphere- but wait, what atmosphere!? This didn’t make any damn sense! He whirled on the nearest guard, an isolated individual, wrapping his hand around his mouth and dragging him away.

  Hoplite made sure not to make any noise, not allowing the poleaxe he wielded to fall to the stone on the wall. The man struggled in vain against the invisible force assailing him, not a sound able to escape his throat. Once he was out of sight of the other guards on the wall, Hoplite pinned the man to the floor, one hand firmly on his mouth. He drew the Sectis, uncloaking and placing the blade against his throat.

  “If you scream, I’ll kill you and interrogate the next man instead.” Hoplite threatened in a monotone, “Answer me, where am I?” He asked, removing his hand from his mouth.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “Y-you are at a temple to Shenra, God of Trickery.” The man stammered, “Please, I don’t worship him, I’m just trying to make some extra money-”

  “I don’t care why you’re here.” Hoplite cut him off, “What colony is this, and in what sector, why are those islands floating?”

  The man’s eyes widened in shock, “I don’t k-know what you mean by that. This Shard is called Yulon.”

  Nemor had said the same thing, and had also said that Hoplite was an ‘Outworlder’. This environment should not exist, the rules of physics were warped… It couldn’t be true that this was an alternate dimension… right? If only Thirty-Seven were here to rationalize this!

  “What is an Outworlder?”

  The man gasped, “Are you one?”

  “Answer the question or I’ll throw you off this island.”

  “They’re people- humans, summoned from another realm to Faenor… usually as a sacrifice to circumvent The Ban.” He continued shakily, “I won’t tell anyone what you are- just please don’t kill me.” He began to weep silently, “I don’t wanna die…”

  “Quit bawling.” Hoplite ordered, “Is there a nearby Eighth Arm base, and if there is, how do I get out of here?”

  “I know not what you speak of, but there’s an airship- it’s about to leave this island, just below the gates is the dock- now please let me- ack!”

  Hoplite pinched his arteries until he fell unconscious, standing from the guard and reactivating his cloaking.

  “Rinny, where did you go?” He heard a man ask, “You better not be sleeping again or we’re all gonna beat you senseless!”

  Hoplite glanced down at the unconscious form of Rinny for just an instant before he left, leaping down from the wall and landing cleanly on the cobbled stones surrounding it. He heard shouts from above, likely they had found Rinny. He darted to the edge of the floating island, looking down to see a ship.

  Not an actual ship meant to travel the skies, but a galleon that should have been sailing the seas. It was made of wood, with a cloth sail, rope rigging attached to a mast- all of it floating over the vast emptiness. He knew not why it could simply hover in mid-air, but he knew that his escape would involve him going aboard that ship.

  However, just as he was about to run down the stairs leading to the docks, the ship began to float away from it, several members of the ship untying the ropes that kept it anchored. Hoplite grit his teeth as it began drifting, but saw that it was beginning to float beneath the island he stood on. In fact, it was approaching his position.

  Hoplite steeled himself, and waited for the right moment before he leapt off the edge of the island, falling down toward the ship. It would be a hard landing, and it would no doubt alert the crew, but with his cloaking enabled they wouldn’t be able to see him. When he hit the deck, the wood splintered beneath his feet, and the crew was nearly sent into a panic.

  “By the Overseer, what the hell was that!?” A man behind the wheel of the ship cried from above, “Are we under attack?”

  Hoplite quickly enabled the anti-gravity of his boots, quickly leaving the scene of his crash as the crew approached to investigate. They were all dressed informally, with some men wearing breastplates while others wore long tailored coats or even went shirtless. They looked more like a pirate crew, a rabble only tied together by a lust for treasure. Ternan space had such individuals, as did the Final Kind.

  He easily swerved and avoided collisions with the crewmembers, hearing them chatter wildly about the dent in their ship. Had Hoplite been wearing the Phalanx suit, there would have simply been a hole there, but thankfully for both him and the crew, the Kryptes suit was relatively lightweight. He looked back up to the man who worked the wheel controlling the ship, a tired looking man with a bald head and dark mutton-chops.

  At least, he assumed he was the captain. He even had a cutlass at his belt, the only thing missing was the hat. Hoplite could hold him hostage and demand that he take him to the nearest Ternan facility… but the odds that he’d know what Hoplite was talking about were basically impossible. As much as he wanted to deny it, the fact was that he was in someplace outside his understanding.

  Floating islands, magical barriers, wooden ships held aloft by nothing, all these things, combined with what had happened with the ovoid and his fall through that colorful space, worked to convince him that those cultists just might have been telling the truth. For now, he would need to keep an open mind to adapt to these new circumstances, as he’d been trained. There had to be reasons for all these things to work the way they did, he’d not go mad trying to make sense of it by himself.

  For now, he’d stay hidden on this ship, eavesdrop on the crew, and gather as much intel as he could manage. For a long while they simply chittered about the mysterious dent in their ship, wondering as to what might have caused it. Eventually though, they all dispersed, going back to work and leaving a few men behind to mend the deck. He maneuvered his way up to where the captain was, hovering a few feet away from him and listening to the crew below with his bionic ears.

  “Capn’ Terg,” A crewmate said, approaching the captain, “We don’t know what caused the breach, there’s just nothin’ there. We got the shipwrights fixing it up now.”

  Terg groaned, wiping some sweat from his brow, “Could a rock have fallen down and somehow bounced off into the sky?”

  “Maybe sir, I’ve seen it happen before.” The man replied.

  “Not while you were on my ship no doubt.” Terg replied, “We’ll continue on as planned, we’ve a few more deliveries to the surrounding islands we gotta complete before we’re paid.”

  “Aye aye.” The man said, saluting.

  Hoplite wondered… if this was a different dimension, why were these people speaking in Jynesian? Earlier, the cultists had said he was speaking Faesh… there had to be a connection there somehow. If he was an Outworlder, that meant that other people from Ternan space had been brought here before. Maybe in this world’s past, a Ternan had managed to escape sacrifice, and had become hugely influential, somehow making Jynesian the dominant language here. Why the name changed to Faesh, he didn’t know, but for now that was the only conclusion he could draw.

  Or perhaps… maybe Lord Jyn-

  He nearly doubled over, mind going fuzzy and vomit nearly spilling from his mouth. What… what had he been thinking about? He regained his senses, standing tall once more. Did he have some kind of disease? That shouldn’t have been possible, his body was completely inhospitable to any type of virus… yet his symptoms were there, nausea, brain fog, intense dizziness, what was the cause?

  “Alright all of y'all, we’re going to Onica to deliver the next shipment, be on your guard around those horn-heads!” The captain shouted, “The oni are expecting food n’ booze, so you better not be siphoning from that or I’ll kill ya and let the horn-heads eat what's left!”

  The crew gave a half-hearted ‘aye-aye’ in reply, leaving Terg grumbling with discontent. Oni were mythological beings were they not? The fact that the term ‘horn-head’ was used implied that they had mutated from standard humanity. At least… they would be standard humanity if this were his own reality. A sense of cold dread slowly started to worm its way into his mind as he realized that returning to Ternan space might just be impossible.

  He forced out the dread, letting his discipline reign supreme. If there was a way to get into this place, then there would also be a way out. He was too hasty slaughtering those cultists, for they had brought him here, allegedly. Even had he let them live though, there was no guarantee that they would send him back, or even that they could. His actions back in the castle had been right.

  Since he was the only Eighth Arm personnel available here, then he would need to take charge… of himself. The current mission priority would be finding a way back to Galler, the factory world he’d been taken from. He’d gather intel, learn more about the locals, and find individuals that might be able to send him back.