40:- Warning

As Ichiro and Bladwin raced through the bustling streets of Dort 3, their breaths quickened in tandem with their hurried steps. The revelation about the nature of the cargo they were delivering weighed heavily on their minds, casting a shadow over their mission.

Bladwin, his voice slightly strained, voiced his growing concern, "Ichiro, this situation is spiraling out of control. What are we even doing here in the Dork Colonies?"

Ichiro, while maintaining their brisk pace, furrowed his brow in contemplation. "Exactly, Bladwin. We were sent here to deliver Teiwaz's cargo, but James mentioned that Tekkadan might be supplying weapons. Do we even know what's inside that cargo?"

Bladwin shook his head, frustration tainting his voice. "No, Ichiro, we don't. It's maddening. We're left in the dark while potentially getting entangled in something much bigger."

Ichiro's eyes narrowed with a mixture of determination and suspicion. "That's precisely the point, Bladwin. We're here with no knowledge, no control. It's as if they want us to be unwitting pawns in their game."

Bladwin's frustration deepened as he muttered a curse. "Teiwaz, they seemed like an honorable organization from what we've heard. How could they be involved in something like this?"

Ichiro's thoughts churned as they sprinted toward their destination. "It's all too convenient, Bladwin. This whole situation was orchestrated, either to ignite a conflict or to snuff it out before it spreads."

Bladwin completed Ichiro's sentence with a grim nod, his expression resolute. "Either to give fuel to the flames or to extinguish them completely."

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Ichiro and Bladwin, their hearts pounding from their sprint, reached the second floor of the hotel. As they stealthily moved forward, they were met with an unexpected sight. A masked man was engaged in conversation with Fumitan and Kudelia, his presence clearly causing tension in the corridor .

Bladwin, fueled by a mixture of concern and anger, was ready to confront the mysterious figure. However, Ichiro grabbed his arm firmly, pulling him back behind a nearby wall. He gestured for Bladwin to stay hidden and quiet, a finger to his lips.

Crouching low, Ichiro focused on eavesdropping on the ongoing conversation between the masked man, Fumitan, and Kudelia. His senses heightened, he strained to catch every word, determined to gather information that might shed light on the tangled web of intrigue they found themselves in.

The masked man, standing at a deliberate distance from Kudelia and Fumitan, seemed undeterred by their questions and concerns. His voice carried a tone of authority as he began to speak.

"I have been waiting a long time to meet you, Kudelia Aina Bernstein," he stated calmly, his masked face betraying no emotions.

Kudelia, her voice tinged with a hint of fear, demanded to know his identity. She was clearly unnerved by the enigmatic stranger who seemed to know so much about her. "Who are you?" she asked, her eyes darting nervously between Fumitan and the masked man.

However, the masked man chose to ignore her question and continued with his own agenda. "Someone like you shouldn't die here," he said cryptically. "This place will soon be caught up in the workers' armed uprising. I suggest you leave before it's too late."

Kudelia's anxiety grew as she pressed for answers. "What do you want?" she implored, trying to make sense of the situation.

The masked man seemed to enjoy keeping them in suspense. He mentioned, "Who do you suppose had Tekkadan supply the weapons being used for this revolt? None other than your benefactor, Nobliss Gordon."

As the masked man took a step forward, Bladwin, driven by his protective instincts, was on the verge of intervening. However, Ichiro's firm grip restrained him, reminding him to stay hidden.

The masked man continued, "I'm confident that you're exactly old enough to know what that means. He's the kind of man who will do whatever it takes to use you, even sending one of his own to be at your side."

Kudelia, fiercely defending Fumitan's honor, rejected the masked man's insinuations. "Fumitan is like family to me," she declared passionately. "We've practically been sisters; we've been together for so long. I won't allow you to accuse her of such things."

"Why don't you let her deny it herself," the masked man suggested, his enigmatic smile never faltering.

Fumitan, her voice heavy with regret and guilt, confirmed the claims with a solemn nod. "What this man is saying is true," she admitted, causing Kudelia's world to crumble around her.

"No, you must be lying! It has to be a joke!" Kudelia cried out, her voice filled with disbelief and sorrow. She released her grip on Fumitan's arm and took a few steps back, as if trying to distance herself from the painful truth.

Fumitan, her decision made, calmly uttered her farewell. "Goodbye, Young Miss," she said, her voice filled with resignation, and started to walk away.

Kudelia, still grappling with the shock of betrayal, was determined not to let Fumitan slip away. She moved to chase after her former guardian, but the masked man intervened, grabbing her to prevent her from following.

"You are the maiden of revolution," the masked man told Kudelia, his voice filled with an odd mix of admiration and sadness. "Please take care of yourself. You can become the hope of the people."

Kudelia, her emotions in turmoil, managed to scramble out of the masked man's grip and ran in the direction Fumitan had walked. Desperation filled her voice as she screamed, "Fumitan!"

The mysterious masked man watched Kudelia's departure, his true motives still concealed behind his enigmatic facade.

As Ichiro and Bladwin observed the shocking confrontation between the masked man, Kudelia, and Fumitan, they realized the gravity of the situation. They knew that they needed to act quickly and discreetly.

Ichiro reached into his bag, hidden behind his Black jacket, and retrieved a mask. It was a creepy mask, the kind that concealed his identity and intentions. He wore it without hesitation, understanding that it was necessary to hide his face and true affiliation in this delicate situation.

With the mask securely in place, Ichiro gestured to Bladwin to join him in the open.

Ichiro, wearing the creepy mask, stepped forward with his arms open, and Bladwin followed closely behind. The masked man, who had been deep in conversation with Kudelia and Fumitan, suddenly noticed their presence and his sharp eyes locked onto Ichiro.

The masked man questioned Ichiro's identity, his voice tinged with suspicion, "Who are you?" His gaze remained fixed on Ichiro, wary of this unexpected intrusion.

Ichiro, maintaining a calm demeanor despite the tense situation, made a calculated assumption based on the man's distinctive eye color. With a deliberate tone, he responded, "It's been a while, isn't it, McGillis Fareed?"

McGillis was visibly taken aback by Ichiro's knowledge of his identity. He couldn't conceal his surprise as he asked, "How do you know me?" The encounter had taken an unexpected turn, and Ichiro's presence had clearly unsettled the masked man.

"Now, Now, McGillis. I know you, You don't know me wasn't the game you were playing a minute ago." Ichiro said laughing ."Anyway lets talk business. I don't give a Fuck what you do Mcgillis." Ichiro's words hung in the air, a chilling warning to McGillis Fareed. With a sinister tone, Ichiro made it clear that he had no interest in McGillis's affairs, but a menacing promise followed. He emphasized, "But if you come and try to mess with my pawns..." Ichiro paused, his voice taking on an even more ominous quality, "I will destroy you."

The threat lingered in the darkness as Ichiro's tone shifted once more. He concluded, "Remember that." Then, as if the Sun had shone making McGillis to close his eye's , Ichiro and Bladwin vanished from the scene, leaving McGillis Fareed with a stark reminder of the consequences that awaited should their paths cross again.

"Your ambitions and schemes mean nothing to me. But if you threaten what's mine, I'll make sure you regret it for all eternity. Let this be the first and final warning, Fareed. Do not ever dare to meddle with my pawns again." Ichiro's voice reverbarated through the corridor.

As McGillis stood in the corridor, his thoughts raced, and a feeling of unease washed over him. Ichiro's cryptic warning echoed in his mind, leaving him with a sense of dread and uncertainty. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had just encountered a formidable adversary, one whose intentions and capabilities remained shrouded in mystery. In the dimly lit space, McGillis clenched his fists, pondering the implications of this unexpected encounter and the enigmatic figure known as Ichiro.

McGillis couldn't help but feel a shiver of unease creeping up his spine. The encounter with Ichiro had left him deeply unsettled. It wasn't just the veiled threat or the ominous warning; it was the realization that someone out there knew of his ambitions, his plans, and the intricate web of power he was trying to weave within Gjallarhorn.

In the shadows of the corridor, he pondered the implications. Whoever Ichiro was, he was no ordinary adversary. McGillis knew that he needed to tread carefully and be ever vigilant. His pursuit of power and his desire for reform had made him enemies, and this encounter had just added another layer of complexity to an already treacherous game.

As he stood alone in the dimly lit room, McGillis couldn't shake the feeling that he had just crossed paths with a formidable opponent—one who could potentially unravel his carefully crafted plans. The fear of exposure and the uncertainty of what lay ahead weighed heavily on his mind, driving him to contemplate the next steps in this high-stakes game of power and intrigue.

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(A:N : I tried my best to make it dark but in the end I was not able to create one.)