The Future's Last Signal

Chapter 3: The First Prediction

The echo of the alarm horn was still vibrating in the stone walls when Vaisha lunged forward. She didn't grab her spear first; she grabbed the front of Ronan’s flight suit, hauling him toward the open cell door.

"You’re coming with us," she hissed, her amber eyes wide with a mix of adrenaline and dread.

"Whoa! Hey! Personal space!" Ronan stumbled, his boots skidding on the damp floor. "Are we going toward the screaming? Because usually, I prefer going the opposite way!"

"You heard the box, outlander!" Marius roared, shoving the radio back into Ronan’s shackled hands. "If your 'science' knows what’s coming, you’re going to tell us how to kill it, or I’ll throw you over the battlements myself!"

"Marius, enough!" Vaisha commanded, already sprinting down the corridor. "Get the tactical squads to the inner courtyard! Aris! Tell the archers to prime the Shard-bolts! Now!"

The Bastion, which had felt like a tomb minutes ago, was now a hive of chaos. Men in etched plate armor scrambled past, their boots clattering like a hailstorm on the stone. Ronan felt like a leaf caught in a gale as Vaisha dragged him up a winding staircase.

"So, what's the plan?" Ronan yelled over the din. "Because 'run toward the monsters' isn't a great strategy where I'm from!"

"The plan is survival!" Vaisha shouted back, reaching the top of the stairs and kicking open a heavy oak door.

They emerged onto the high ramparts of the North Gate. The wind whipped at Ronan’s hair, carrying the smell of ozone and something much worse—rotting sulfur. Below them, the 'lower city' was a sprawl of stone huts and flickering torches, all surrounding a massive, reinforced gate that was currently shuddering under the force of a thousand hammers.

"Look at that," Ronan whispered, leaning over the edge. "What are those things?"

The ground outside the gate was a heaving carpet of black. They looked like oversized, hairless wolves with too many legs and jagged, crystalline plates protruding from their spines.

"Skitter-beasts," a voice rasped from the shadows of the battlement.

A tall man with a shaved head and a face crisscrossed with tactical tattoos stepped into the light. He held a massive longbow that hummed with a faint violet energy.

"Lieutenant Kalen," Vaisha said, her voice tight. "Report."

"It’s a massacre, Commander," Kalen said, his eyes flicking briefly to Ronan with suspicion. "The scouts didn't stand a chance. They came out of the shadows before the sun even dipped. The gate’s holding, but they’re starting to climb the walls. Who’s the civilian in the pajamas?"

"I’m a pilot, and these are flight suits, thanks for asking," Ronan snapped, clutching the radio. "And if you want to keep your wall, you might want to listen to the 'demon-box.'"

"The prisoner predicted the breach, Kalen," Vaisha explained, her gaze fixed on the churning black mass below. "Exactly to the minute."

Kalen grunted, pulling an arrow from his quiver. "Lucky guess. Or he called them here."

"I don't have a 'Call Monster' button on this thing!" Ronan held up the radio.

Suddenly, the device jolted in his hands. The static returned, sharper this time, cutting through the screams of the dying outside the walls.

—static— "Detection: Bio-hazard entity 'Crawler-Class-D'. Analysis: Chitinous exterior, heat-sensitive ocular nodes. Weakness identified: High-frequency resonance and cervical joint vulnerability."

"Did you hear that?" Ronan yelled, shoving the radio toward Vaisha. "It’s giving us a breakdown!"

"It sounds like a dying bird!" Marius barked, appearing on the wall, breathless. "Tell us what it means in plain tongue, boy!"

"It means their armor is tough, but they see by tracking heat!" Ronan translated, his mind racing back to his survival training. "And their necks are the weak spot! Don't aim for the chest plates, aim for the gap behind the head!"

Vaisha looked at Kalen. "You heard him. Archer squads, focus on the neck joints! Don't waste bolts on the carapaces!"

"And the heat thing!" Ronan added. "If they track heat, they’re looking for your torches! If you douse the lights on the walls and use your... whatever those glowing stones are... you might confuse them!"

Kalen looked skeptical. "You want us to fight in the dark? Against those things?"

"They’re already seeing you because you’re glowing like a neon sign in a dive bar!" Ronan argued. "Kill the fire, use the 'cold' light!"

Vaisha didn't hesitate. "Kalen, douse the braziers. Now! Use the Shard-lanterns only!"

The Lieutenant signaled his men. One by one, the orange flames along the ramparts were extinguished, replaced by the pale, cold blue glow of the Shard-stones. Below, the Skitter-beasts suddenly faltered. The rhythmic slamming against the gate stopped for a heartbeat as the creatures hissed, their heads swinging wildly.

"It worked," Vaisha whispered. "They’ve lost our trail."

"Now hit them!" Ronan urged. "Before they adjust!"

"Archers! Loose!" Kalen roared.

A volley of violet light arched over the wall. Unlike the previous frantic shots, these were aimed with precision. Ronan watched as the glowing bolts found the narrow gaps in the monsters' armor. Shrieks—high, piercing, and terrifyingly human-like—echoed from the darkness.

"Direct hits!" a soldier shouted from the lower platform. "They’re falling back! The neck shots are dropping them instantly!"

"Don't get cocky!" Ronan warned, his eyes glued to the radio’s flickering screen. "The radio said 'Level 5 Breach'. That means there’s more than just these grunts."

As if on cue, the radio let out a low, vibrating hum.

"Warning: Heavy unit approaching. Designation: Abyssal Juggernaut. Estimated arrival: Thirty seconds. Recommendation: Deploy thermal shielding and concentrated kinetic fire."

"Something big is coming," Ronan said, his voice dropping an octave. "Like, really big."

The ground beneath the Bastion began to shake. A deep, tectonic rumble groaned through the mountain. From the edge of the violet forest, a shadow emerged that made the Skitter-beasts look like puppies. It was the size of a siege tower, a hulking mass of jagged obsidian and glowing red veins. It didn't skitter; it marched, each step cracking the stone earth.

"By the Shards..." Marius whispered, his hand trembling on his sword hilt. "We don't have enough bolts for that."

"What does the box say?" Vaisha demanded, grabbing Ronan’s arm. "How do we kill a mountain?"

Ronan fumbled with the dial, trying to clear the interference. "Come on, come on! Give me something! What’s the 'thermal shielding' part?"

The radio crackled violently. "Target core: Exposed during roar. Temperature: 4000 Kelvin. Fire into the mouth. Repeat: Fire into the mouth during vocalization."

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Ronan muttered. "Hey, Commander! You need to get someone to shoot a big-ass arrow right down that thing’s throat when it screams!"

Vaisha looked at the Juggernaut, which was now only a hundred yards from the gate. It reared back, its massive chest expanding as it prepared to let out a world-shattering roar.

"Kalen!" Vaisha pointed. "The mouth! Wait for the opening!"

"I only have one Sun-bolt left, Commander!" Kalen shouted, his face drenched in sweat as he drew his massive bow. "If I miss, the gate is gone!"

"You won't miss," Ronan said, stepping up beside the Lieutenant. "Just treat it like a tailpipe on a MIG. Easy day, man. Just breathe."

Kalen glanced at Ronan, confused by the words but calmed by the pilot’s steady tone. He drew the string back until the violet energy was blinding.

The Juggernaut opened its maw, a glowing red furnace of teeth and hatred. It let out a roar that knocked several soldiers off their feet.

Twang.

The Sun-bolt wasn't a physical arrow; it was a streak of pure, concentrated lightning. It flew true, disappearing into the creature’s fiery throat.

For a second, nothing happened. The Juggernaut froze. Then, a muffled thump echoed from its chest. Blue light began to leak through the cracks in its obsidian skin. It didn't scream this time; it simply imploded, collapsing into a heap of smoking glass and ash.

The remaining Skitter-beasts, seeing their leader turned to dust, let out a collective wail and retreated back into the violet shadows of the forest.

Silence fell over the North Gate. The only sound was the heavy breathing of the soldiers and the faint, rhythmic ticking of Ronan’s radio.

"Is... is it over?" Ronan asked, his legs finally giving out. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the cold stone.

Vaisha stepped toward him, her armor splattered with black ichor. She looked down at him, then at the radio in his lap. The suspicion in her eyes hadn't vanished, but it was now tempered by something else.

"You saved the North Gate, outlander," she said, her voice steady.

"The 'box' saved the gate," Ronan corrected, leaning his head back against the battlements. "I just translated the manual."

Marius walked over, looking at the heap of ash where the monster had been. He looked back at Ronan, his expression unreadable. "No man of this world could have known that weakness. Not even the High Magisters."

"I told you," Ronan sighed, closing his eyes. "I’m not from this world. Or this time. I’m just a pilot who’s really, really late for a debriefing."

Kalen approached, stowing his bow. He offered a hand to Ronan, pulling him to his feet. "You’ve got a weird way of talking, Pilot. And your 'box' is a terrifying thing. But you stood your ground when the Juggernaut showed up. I can respect that."

"Thanks," Ronan said, brushing the dust off his suit. "So, does this mean I get a room with a view instead of a dungeon? Maybe some actual food?"

Vaisha looked out over the darkened forest, her hand resting on the hilt of her spear. "It means you are far more dangerous than we first thought, Ronan Eltair."

"Dangerous?" Ronan scoffed. "I just helped you!"

"Which means you know the secrets of the Old World," Vaisha said, turning to look him in the eye. "Secrets that the High Inquisitor has spent a lifetime trying to uncover. You haven't earned your freedom yet. You've only earned a more important trial."

"Great," Ronan muttered, looking down at the radio. "Always a catch."

The radio let out one final, soft chime before going dark.

"Signal lost. Searching for network... Warning: You are not alone."

Ronan felt a chill that had nothing to do with the wind. He looked at Vaisha, then at the shadows dancing on the wall.

"Hey, Commander?"

"Yes?"

"I think we’re going to need more batteries."