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墨書 Inktalez
In that moment, with the blade just twenty centimeters away, Azul felt an unprecedented fear surge within him. A thought flashed through his mind—would he really die here, surrounded by weapons and military gear, at the hands of his admired squad leader?
This thought sent chills down Azul's spine, an unknown dread spreading through him like ice. He wanted to retreat, to escape the approaching edge of the knife, but his feet seemed firmly nailed to the floor, leaving him no room to move. His body was frozen to the core, every cell seemingly screaming at him that danger was closing in at an unimaginable speed, yet he couldn't budge an inch.
At that moment, William's gaze became hollow and profound. The usual seriousness or playful arrogance he displayed during training was replaced by a transcendent focus. It was as if he had entered a world solely dedicated to combat; before him stood not his subordinate Azul, but an invisible enemy.
With each swing of his weapon, William was precise and unerring. Every movement carried the sound of rushing wind, the blade tracing silver arcs in the air, glinting with a cold light. Azul's breathing quickened; with every approach of William's blade, he felt gusts of cold air brush against his skin—the breath of death, chilling and suffocating.
Just as William's blade was about to touch Azul's throat, the entire Armory fell into a deathly silence. Time seemed to freeze at that moment; the air thickened, all sounds vanished, leaving only Azul's rapid breaths and the pounding of his heart. Under this extreme pressure, Azul felt his heart racing violently, each beat hammering against his chest, reminding him of life's fragility and death's proximity.
In that instant when William's blade was merely a hair's breadth from Azul's throat, a thunderous knock suddenly shattered the silence in the Armory. The heavy sound erupted like thunder in the confined space. Everyone froze in their tracks; even the atmosphere was shaken by this sudden roar.
Then came a bellow that pierced through the chaos of the Armory: "Damn it! What are you lazy bastards doing? You have ninety seconds! Get suited up and report to your posts! I swear!" The voice belonged to the commander of the barracks, his fury seeming capable of igniting the entire room.
The unexpected reprimand jolted the soldiers in the Armory out of their mocking atmosphere. Azul felt a wave of relief wash over him while William appeared slightly embarrassed but quickly regained his usual authoritative demeanor. He swiftly returned the knife to Azul with a serious expression as he adjusted his posture.
Around them, soldiers hurriedly began to busy themselves, each desperately polishing their gear and adjusting their uniforms. They all knew that calming the commander's wrath would not be easy, especially when he viewed the discipline and efficiency of the entire unit as questionable. The air in the room instantly turned tense and serious as everyone strived to avoid becoming the next target of the commander's ire.
The atmosphere in the Armory heated up rapidly amidst the sergeants' angry shouts; every corner filled with sounds of urgency and commands. Soldiers rushed one after another to equip themselves, with crisp metallic clinks and rustling leather filling the air.
Squad Leader William moved particularly swiftly, expertly fastening pieces of armor together; each metallic snap sounded exceptionally loud. Meanwhile, Azul's hands trembled as he hesitated to return his small knife to its sheath at his waist. His movements were clumsy and slow, clearly still shaken from earlier terror.
Abang quickly donned his armor while half-mocking and half-complaining at Azul, "Damn it! This is all your fault, Azul! We’re all getting nailed because of you!" His voice carried a hint of humor, but there was no mistaking the genuine displeasure in his eyes.
Despite Abang's words bringing a sense of ease, Azul showed no reaction. He silently continued to put on his helmet and adjust his gear. The threatening gaze of Sergeant William from earlier was still vividly etched in his mind, making it difficult for him to find calm. In this tense and hurried state, Azul's thoughts lingered on the recent harrowing scene, preventing him from fully concentrating on the upcoming mission.
Under the stern orders and constant urging of the officers, the soldiers in the Armory quickly donned their equipment. Each piece of armor was tightly secured, and the metallic sheen of the armor glimmered coldly under the lights of the Armory. Once everything was ready, Sergeant William swiftly called out names to confirm everyone's status before leading the squad briskly toward the stairs.
The soldiers marched in unison, the sound of armor clanking and footsteps echoing through the long corridor, resembling a solemn march. Azul followed at the back of the line, gripping his rifle tightly and carefully controlling the barrel to avoid making unnecessary noise as they rushed.
When the entire squad finally reached the top of the wall, they were greeted by an expansive view and warm sunlight. The breeze atop the wall brought a slight chill, brushing against each soldier's cheek. However, even in such bright weather, Azul's heart remained chaotic; the earlier scene in the Armory still left him feeling unsettled. At that moment, his right eyelid began to twitch uncontrollably again—a small physiological phenomenon that seemed to him like an ominous sign, filling him with doubt about what unknown challenges he would face that day.
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