Isaac dismounted his horse and boarded the train with the wind at his back. His assigned men plus Lilac went in after him, all with their guns brandished and backs straight. Their footsteps were obnoxiously heavy inside the metallic ride and it drove Isaac to hush them up. Their footsteps still rang in the ears anyway.

Isaac had just come from an area around Mossmore a few hours away. Curio had given him the task—or rather, punishment—to escort a certain someone while he makes his way back to the Military Headquarters, leading Isaac to believe that Curio knew about his failure in capturing the rebel who bombed Oxford Bay. It appears that something big in Curio’s plans was finally happening, and with Isaac being the nearest high-ranker in the vicinity and also the nearest pet of the Committee, he was tasked to make sure everything goes smoothly.

He stopped in front of a red door in one for the first-class cars, then knocked stiffly after glancing at Lilac who gave him a thumbs up.

The door opened and a big man appeared. Wolfish head, grey beard against his tanned skin, and a big build—he was, in one single word, intimidating. Isaac, however, tried not to let it show.

“State your name and business,” the big man said, voice rough and tired. On the linings of his chest pocket were two golden stars.

“Colonel Isaac, here to accompany you back to Headquarters, sir,” said Isaac with a salute. The men behind him did the same. “Chief Curio sent me.”

“General Alan,” he introduced, though he didn’t look pleased. “I told them I had everything under control.”

He put his arm down. “I don’t think we should take a death threat lightly, sir.”

The General waved his hand in dismissal, even going so far as to make a psh sound. He called for Isaac to enter the room as he made his way to his red sofa. “Death threats are just as they are, threats. They are a ploy from the rebels to argue against the lockdown.”

“We can never be too careful,” said Isaac, although he also had wished the same, that Curio would understand that threats rarely have any substance to them. He turned to his men and gestured for them to stay outside, and though Lilac didn’t look pleased, she turned around to face the hallway, the door closing behind her.

The room was fairly wide with two iconic red sofas and a table. General Alan sat down on one of the sofas, his legs far apart and lounging, while Isaac remained standing.

The General looked at him oddly. “Sit down,” he said, and it wasn’t a request. “You’re not my servant.”

I actually am, thought Isaac, but he decided to just go along with what the General wanted. He sat down stiffly on the opposite red sofa, and the moment he did, the General brought out a flask from his duffle bag. Isaac stared.

“What?” asked the General.

It took most of Isaac’s will not to look away from the General’s stone eyes. “Are you sure you should be drinking, sir?”

“Are you sure you should be asking, boy?” He took a swig. “Seriously, what is Curio thinking? Deploying little children? You are way too young to be here.”

Isaac’s face remained stoic, but he was deeply starting to seethe with anger inside. If there was one thing he could not handle more than the Committee, it was other old people telling him what to do.

“Pardon, General Alan,” he said before he could stop himself, “I am not a child. And, perhaps you should be thinking more highly of me since I am so young, as you say, and yet be at this rank, a colonel.”

The General looked amused behind his sip from his flask. He did not look offended as Isaac thought he could have been. Instead, the he just wiped the alcohol off his face and leaned forward. “You’re confident in yourself, I see.” He waggled the flask in front of him. “Do not get too cocky, greenhorn. I could send you riling down demotion road in a minute.”

Isaac lowered his gaze at him. Should he talk back? Was it worth it?

General Alan pulled back, his smile wide as he observed Isaac up and down. “Oh, ho! You’re easily offended, aren’t you? Hm, that’s why you’re a greenhorn.”

“Pardon?”

“Being in power does not only mean learning how to be powerful, boy.” He shook his head. “No, you have to know how to interact with others at a certain charisma. You, for one, lack that quality. I don’t blame you. You’re still so young.”

Isaac wondered if that was true. He never really thought about it, though, he could agree that he did not like interacting, and that probably was where the problem lay. Still, he denied everything the General said. He was not so stupid to get told off like that, and he was not naïve to take in everything he says.

“Don’t let it get to you,” said the General. “Just pour me some tea and forget about what I said. You don’t look like you’re buying it.”

“I’m quite stubborn.” He eyed the porcelain tea set on the table and started to pour tea for both of them. The tea was still boiling hot, and it told Isaac that the General had actually anticipated a bodyguard, and even took the time to order beverages, not that it was that hard. He wondered what kind of personality hid behind his bigger-than-life façade.

They both took a sip, and for a second, Isaac almost spit it out.

General Alan laughed. “What? Too strong for you, boy?”

He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. The tea lay in his cup, pitch black and laughing at him as well. “It’s really bitter.”

“It’s the bitterness that makes it good,” he said as he lifted his cup to his face.

Isaac tried again as well, but instead he just spilt the tea all over his uniform as a force of something unseen shoved him against the wall to his left, smashing the teacup. He stared down blankly at his soaking chest.

“What in the world?” said General Alan, lifting his hand that covered the rim of his own teacup so that it kept it from spilling. Isaac was impressed, no less, since it seemed that the General, despite being not in his prime, still had polished reflexes.

The door slammed open and Lilac appeared at the doorway, the soldiers gone behind her. “Isaac! Rebels are attacking the train!”

Isaac and the General looked at each other before both standing up in unison. “I’ll go check,” Isaac said. He looked at General Alan. “Permission to investigate.”

He raised an eyebrow, the mockery obvious in his eyes. “You do know that your job was to escort me to the Capital? Curio won’t be happy hearing that you left me behind.”

“Chief Curio won’t know of this,” he said, looking at General Alan in the eye. “But unless you order it, I will not stay here while rebels do what they want.” The General looked at him back in the eye. It took him a few seconds of thinking before agreeing. “Very well. I’ll catch up later. I can defend myself anyway.”

Isaac gave a nod of thanks then ran out the door. He was not stupid enough to forget that his job had come with hazards and risks—having to face off with rebels was one he was willing to take. Besides, he has not yet met another rebel who matched his skills or at least has given him a good fight. No, they all died in the end without trying.

Lilac ran a few paces behind him. It was early in the morning, the sun was not even up yet, but her purple hair still managed to make itself seen inside the dark train. The lights were turned off from the apparent bomb that shook the train a while back.

Isaac took his guns from his belt, knowing what lay ahead. The hallways in the cars were in disarray—burning, broken, and full of debris. Oddly, people were not leaving, but Isaac knew the reason why when he entered the third-class car. Rebels were guarding the exits.

“No one will get harmed,” said one of the masked rebels. “Everyone please remain calm.”

The duo took no risks. Isaac shot his gun at one of the rebels, immediately killing him as the bullet went through his neck. Lilac meanwhile ran for the other rebel at the opposite exit and slashed at her with her swords.

Everyone screamed then, but Isaac’s powerful presence of a step shut them up.

“We have everything under control,” he said. “Everyone please remain seated. The train will get going soon.”

Another explosion came from outside, but Isaac paid it no heed. Rebels loved using bombs, a vulgar weapon, and they loved to create chaos. He did not know what their goal was this time, but it was probably just aimless killing. It was exactly this unplanned logic and ambushes of theirs that made them no match for the army. They were unorganized and barbaric, as if they could not even decide amongst themselves.

For sure, the only rebellion that had caught Isaac’s eye was the Youngblood Resistance.

“Isaac,” said Lilac, approaching with her dual swords on hand. “The soldiers went to the other cars, so I’m pretty sure they’re engaging with the rebels. As for the motive, it seems they’re aiming for the train’s storage? I heard that General Alan was transporting special types of guns to the Capital.”

“Let’s exit this train. I want to see if I can stop them.” The two of exited through the freed doorway. Isaac wondered how few rebels were joining the attack, but he knew that the smaller an army, the better they could hide.

That was proved as soon as Isaac took a step outside because an arrow whizzed by him. He easily was able to dodge it, but in actuality, the shot was so badly aimed that he didn’t even have to move at all. If you’re trying to assassinate me, get a better archer, he thought, his respect for the rebellion dwindling on nothing already.

He looked to his left for the marksman, but no one was in the empty train station. There were ticket booths though, and if that was seriously where they thought they would hide, he’d know he’ll lose his mind.

His gaze switched to the arrow impressively dug deep into the train’s exterior. A moss-green round object hung from it.

Isaac’s eyes widened as soon as he realized what it was. He grabbed Lilac’s arm and made a run away from it.

They were too slow, however. His back seared with the heat of the explosion, and he skidded to the concrete ground away from the train by the big impact of it. “Isaac?” he heard Lilac shout as she let go of his hand, but the next words were inaudible to him for a second. Was his ears damaged?

“Isaac!” shouted Lilac again, and Isaac was relieved to hear again. He got up from his kiss to the ground and touched his bleeding lips. The backside of his jacket was torn and seared, so he just took it off, revealing the white buttoned shirt underneath. The shirt was at least free of tea smell.

Lilac sat on the ground next to him, snapping herself at of the daze as she stared at the broken metal exterior of the train. “That was pretty strong,” she grunted Lilac. She tried to get up but ended up falling back to the ground. “Sucks. I sprained something.” Her swords were still tightly gripped in her hand and so she sheathed them back.

“Don’t worry, you can still fight. You just have to get up.” He helped her up, knowing that Lilac was unstoppable. She fought in greater wars with heavier wounds and still succeeded. Sometimes, Isaac wondered why she wasn’t ranked a general already despite her undiplomatic attitude, when her fighting skills made up for it.

“So unromantic,” complained Lilac. They continued to walk in the train station on high alert, Isaac ignoring the pain on his lips and Lilac ignoring the limp in her walk.

It seemed to Isaac that the main conflict was going on just ahead of them. Blasted and burnt areas of the train frequented as they went further along the perimeter of the train. Isaac scanned around, but there really was nothing. In fact, there was no one.

“This was planned,” he said.

“Yeah,” agreed Lilac. “Well, guess what city is going to burn next.”

Isaac grimaced. It was a bad joke, but he knew Lilac did not mean anything bad by it. They both were fatigued from compassion, and it was the truth anyway. He sighed. “Let’s not tell the Committee of Rules about this.”

“We might get reprimanded again.”

“Not if they don’t find out.”

The area may have been empty, but the noise from inside of the train made up for the lack of sound. There were gunshots, window crashes, and screaming civilians, but Isaac did not feel the need to partake in the fight. He and Lilac were barely ready for another fight, and something more interesting in front of them was happening anyway.

It was a fight among masked rebels and another group of people, all at a standstill as guns and swords pointed to one another. Lilac and Isaac ducked to hide behind a ticket booth.

“Isaac… look,” said Lilac. She pointed at a man with his hands in the air, his golden hair glinting in the dawn.

Isaac tried not to react. “We keep running into him.”

She nodded. “It looks like they’re in trouble. Those masked rebels have guns… Where did they even get them?”

“It’s quite easy to steal guns, perhaps.” Both of them kept watching as the scene turned deadly when one masked rebel pointed a gun at a young girl’s head.

“Do we help them?” asked Lilac.

A thought of hesitation made Isaac sigh. “We’re not even sure which of them to help.”

Lilac pointed. “Maybe those not in cloth masks?”

“They’re all rebels anyway.”

“Yes, but one of them is also our friend.” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “You were gonna hide the planned attack from the Committee. Why stop there? Let’s just help them! Curio won’t know.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “He is not our friend, and we don’t owe him anything.”

There was a moment of tension between the two when Lilac stared at him with dagger eyes. Isaac had to wonder what kind of tricks she planned of using, but was still caught off guard when she swiped one of his two pistols away and ran off towards the fight.

--to be continued in 7-2