Suffer Not The Radiant

Chapter 48: Unwanted Return

A palpable tension hung thick in the air, a silence that reverberated with the weight of Ranesk's words. Each word he had spoken felt like a searing brand, an ache that cut deeper than any physical wound the agents had encountered during their time under the Protocol's mantle. The words reverberated through the minds of all present, painting the atmosphere with a suffocating heaviness.

For Phoenix and Jett, the impact was more personal than they could bear. They were Radiants, and the bond that had once existed between them and Ranesk had turned into a gulf of pain. The memories of shared laughter and camaraderie felt like distant dreams now, eclipsed by the stark reality of Ranesk's disdain that radiated even through the confinement of his helmet.

Among the non-Radiant agents, a mixture of sadness and shock contorted their expressions. The contrast was jarring – hours ago, they had stood side by side, united. Now, the lines were drawn in the starkest of ways, lines carved with hatred and betrayal.

Omen, however, remained an enigma amidst the turmoil. His gaze bore a gravitas that seemed to penetrate through the veneer of conflict. His tattered purple hood stirred in the winds that carried the scent of fires from the blood-red horizon.

Ranesk's gaze eventually locked onto Omen, he snapped his head in his direction. The silence grew almost unbearable, yet Ranesk's lips remained sealed, an unspoken exchange transpiring between them. The tension hung like a suspended chord, discordant and heavy.

Ranesk's internal tempest waged on, rage and logic locked in a fierce struggle. His initial instinct to end it all, to eradicate these Radiants and the people who stand beside them still clawed at his thoughts. But a rationality simmered beneath the fury, reminding him of their pragmatic worth. The mission to reach the Valorant headquarters trumped his personal vendettas, a truth that he begrudgingly acknowledged. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, a moment of sanity amidst the turmoil.

Their survival was now a bitter pill that Ranesk had to swallow. The agents, Radiant and non-Radiant alike, would have to remain in his company, even if they still breathed. The objective superseded personal feelings, and so they would continue, bound by necessity even as the chasm of distrust grew wider.

"Bind them," Ranesk commanded. The soldiers flanking Tyberos advanced, securing their captives' wrists with zip ties. A mix of astonishment and resignation played across the captives' faces, their gazes distant and dull, as if surrendering to an inevitable fate. No resistance stirred within them; silence held sway, the weight of sadness surpassing any sparks of anger.

"Once we reach the VTOL aircraft , one among you will be freed to pilot it. Until then, do not resist," Ranesk's threat cut through the air, laced with a palpable fury that brooked no argument. The simmering ire in his tone painted a vivid picture of his emotions.

With not another word spoken, Ranesk pivoted, striding past the grotesque shrine erected by the Radiants. His gaze remained unyielding, untouched by the morbid display before him.

—--------------------------------------------------

After a lengthy walk, the soldiers and the agents finally arrived at their destination—an airport now reduced to a graveyard of wrecked airplanes, helicopters, and marked runways. Amidst the desolation, a handful of aircraft remained mostly intact, though they seemed untouched for generations. And there, almost surprisingly, sat the VTOL aircraft. Despite its visible signs of aging, as if plucked from a forgotten storage, it had endured. Bullet holes poked its frame, but vital components had escaped unscathed. The soldiers trailing behind couldn't help but stare—it was battered yet oddly resilient.