Into The Rift

Red Zone Recovery (26)

I mentally replay the conversations of those guards, maintaining my suspicious outlook with careful eyes.

Cooper releases a sigh in response, "Their military doesn't have any concept of classified information, I'll chalk it up to eyewitnesses and rumors."

"That makes sense," Robert mutters to my left, marking his entry into the conversation.

"In any case, let's keep this down for now. We've got our assignment so we best focus on that instead." Cooper replies as his legs direct him to a particular individual.

"Understood sir, " I give a nod in response, ignoring the attention my men are receiving.

As Cooper talks with this world's equivalent of a receptionist, I let my eyes wander, admiring the smooth designs favored by this faction.

The curvaceous architecture of this room, and by extension the palace, was a clear reflection of this nation's culture. It made it unique in the broad sense of the word.

A building is influenced by the society of those who built it.

There is a firm truth in that saying, Chinese culture was very different from the American way of life. And that was expressed through their more traditional buildings.

This concept applies here to a greater extent, there were even stark differences in the way these people conduct themselves.

It is then I realize what we're up against. All that remained in my mind at this point, was how oddly strange the emblem of this faction is.

There was one displayed in a prideful fashion, it radiates a powerful glint underneath the sun's humid glare, visible through an open balcony. That emblem was adorned to the top of a massive spire, and it looked right at home surrounded by the clear blue sky.

There is still much we don't know about this nation, or how they would react to the anomaly that acted as humanity's only gateway into their world. It was only a matter of time before their ground detachment reaches the mountains surrounding Tartarus, and discover the Rift.

Unbeknownst to my thoughts which are caught up in a vicious storm, a feminine voice takes a shot at my senses. It was soft and composed, but it had a melodic charm to it, serving to grind the mental imagery to a halt.

As an appropriate response, I train my eyes on the source of the sound. It is a young woman, but sparking in her eyes is a maturity well beyond her age. The soft glare, as well as that dignified posture speaks highly of her upbringing, solidifying my first impression of her.

This noble lady is clad in a highly decorative but modest red dress, with white trimmings patterning the entire thing. The design is an unknown to me, but I can easily tell this type of clothing isn't cheap by any means.

I put the pieces together, eventually coming up with the most logical answer.

This must be the Princess. A significant authoritarian figure, she was flanked by four guards on each side. Each of them carried a silvery staff, at their crystalline tips is a faint pulsating blue.

These people as armed, but rightfully so. My men watch on as Cooper relays our mission objective to this Princess. My eyes did the same, but with a small glint of confusion.

I still don't see a valid reason for meeting up with the Princess.

From a logical standpoint, contact should have been made with a military representative, and not a civilian like her. The researchers were attacked by their soldiers. My frown deepens as the feeling of confusion burrows under my skin.