Vincent's Survey to Akarios Island

The roar of the engines filled the cabin of the C-17 Globemaster as it made its steady approach toward Akarios Island. Vincent sat near one of the small windows, his eyes fixed on the landscape below. The City of Ferm, where he had just departed from, was a distant memory now. His mind was consumed with what awaited him on the island, and the weight of the recent events pressed heavily on his thoughts.

Through the small window, Vincent could already see visible signs of battle. Large craters littered the ground like open wounds. Scorched earth stretched in jagged patches, marking the areas where powerful explosions had ripped through the once-pristine terrain. Some sections of the island, particularly closer to the shoreline, were covered in debris-burned-out shells of tanks and vehicles that had been reduced to little more than twisted metal.

"Thirty minutes until landing," the pilot's voice crackled through the intercom, breaking the heavy silence in the cabin.

Vincent barely acknowledged the announcement, his eyes glued to the devastation below. From this altitude, it was clear that the battle had been fierce. Smoke still rose in thin, wispy columns from a few places, evidence of recent explosions or lingering fires. It was a sight that sent a tight knot into his stomach. The reports from General Harper had not prepared him for this level of destruction.

The C-17 began to descend, its powerful engines adjusting as the airfield on Akarios Island came into view. The air traffic control tower at the base crackled over the cockpit's radio, coordinating the landing.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"C-17 Globemaster, this is Akarios Control. You are clear for landing. Winds are calm, runway is secure," the voice from the control tower said.

"Copy that, Akarios Control. Beginning final approach," the pilot responded.

The landing gear deployed with a dull thud, and the massive aircraft touched down smoothly, its tires kicking up small clouds of dust and debris as it rolled down the runway. The aircraft slowed, finally coming to a halt near the airfield's hangars, where a small group of soldiers stood waiting.

Vincent's eyes scanned the figures on the ground as the ramp of the C-17 slowly lowered with a mechanical whir. He immediately spotted General Harper among them. The man stood stiffly, his posture rigid, but it was the way he carried himself-head down, eyes focused on the ground—that caught Vincent's attention. Harper couldn't even bring himself to look toward the descending ramp.

Vincent stepped off the C-17, his boots making a solid thud as they hit the concrete.

General Harper approached slowly, his hands clasped behind his back, his face a mask of quiet unease. When he finally stopped in front of Vincent, he straightened, but his gaze remained locked firmly on the ground.

"Sir," Harper said, his voice quiet but steady. "Welcome back to Akarios Island."

Vincent didn't respond immediately. He let the silence linger, his eyes taking in the surrounding devastation. When he finally spoke, his tone was cold.

"I'm not here for pleasantries, General. Take me through what happened."

Harper shifted uncomfortably, his shoulders tensing as he tried to find the words.

"We didn't think much of it at first," he continued, his voice tight. "Just a small fishing boat on the horizon, nothing out of the ordinary. But the closer it got, the more we realized something was off. It was a woman standing there."

"Isn't that creepy enough for you to warrant military action?"

General Harper cleared his throat, sensing the growing frustration in Vincent's voice. "In hindsight, yes. But at the time, she appeared harmless. By the time we realized what we were dealing with, it was too late."

Vincent's eyes narrowed. "Too late?"

Harper nodded grimly. "The woman-she wasn't human. Within moments, she sank the patrol boat and destroyed one of our Warthogs. Her power was overwhelming. We scrambled the Apaches and deployed tanks, but... it wasn't enough. She cut through everything we threw at her."

Vincent's eyes scanned the devastation around him as Harper spoke. He didn't interrupt but instead began walking forward to the awaiting vehicle taht would take them to the beach where the battle mostly happened.

Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the beach, his gaze fixated on the remains of the battlefield. The soldiers around them quickly moved aside, giving Vincent space as he surveyed the aftermath. The craters were larger up close, jagged edges torn into the earth by what looked like missile impacts. Some were still smoldering,

Destroyed vehicles lay scattered around the beach like broken toys. A burnt-out Abrams tank sat half-submerged in one of the craters, its once-imposing form now twisted and blackened. Nearby, the remains of a downed Apache helicopter lay with its rotors bent at unnatural angles. Vincent could see that the wreckage was still being cleared away, with heavy machinery like the Caterpillar D9 and forklifts moving the debris to one side of the field.

Vincent stepped out of the vehicle, his boots sinking slightly into the sand as he surveyed the scene before him. The destruction was even worse up close. The air was thick with the smell of burnt metal and fuel, mixed with the salty breeze coming off the ocean. He took in the sight of craters pockmarking the beach, some still smoking, while debris littered the ground-pieces of twisted metal, shattered glass, and the broken remains of military hardware that had once been the frontline of their defense.

He stood still for a moment, letting the full weight of what he was seeing settle over him. This wasn't just a battle lost; it was a massacre. And all of it at the hands of a single enemy.

Harper remained behind him, silent and rigid, no doubt feeling the pressure of Vincent's quiet fury. The general was painfully aware of the enormity of his failure, but there was nothing he could say that would make up for the lives lost. His only hope now was to explain the situation as clearly as possible, to somehow salvage what was left.

"We deployed everything we had at her, sir," Harper finally said, his voice carrying a grim resignation. "The Apaches, the Abrams, and infantry support. But she... well, nothing seemed to touch her. It was like our attacks were deflected and blocked."

"Whoever attacked us just now is a powerful entity that we should be more than prepared for in the future," Harper continued, his voice filled with both shame and frustration. "Our weapons were useless. It was as if she controlled every element of the battlefield. We lost more than just men and equipment, sir... we lost the sense that we could hold our ground."

"I know, which is why my travel to the continent is important," Vincent siad.. "We need to explore ways to enhance our conventional weapons with magical augmentation. These entities are becoming increasingly impervious to traditional attacks. We need something more-something that will give us an edge."

Harper remained silent, his eyes fixated on the ground. Vincent's words hit him hard. They had already deployed their most advanced technology-cutting-edge tanks, helicopters, and weaponry-and still, it hadn't been enough. To admit that they needed magic now, something outside their usual realm of warfare, felt like conceding to a power far beyond what they had ever prepared for.

Vincent stepped forward, moving past Harper as he walked closer to the edge of the beach. His boots sank into the sand as he neared a scorched crater, the scent of burned fuel and charred earth still hanging in the air. He crouched down, examining the blackened ground. His fingers brushed against the hardened soil, still warm to the touch from whatever attack had hit this

area.

"This is a wake-up call," Vincent continued, his eyes scanning the wreckage around him.

"That we must take our journey seriously to the continent. We have learned from the elves that you can apply magic on objects using enchanting totem, providing different effects depending on the said totem."

Vincent continued to walk along the beach, his gaze lingering on each destroyed vehicle, each shattered weapon that lay strewn across the battlefield like discarded toys. Soldiers worked tirelessly, some carrying bodies, others directing machinery to clear debris.

As Vincent passed a group of soldiers, they straightened up immediately, their eyes following him with a mixture of respect and unease. He could feel their fear, their doubt, and perhaps even a trace of resentment. They had been given the best tools, the best training, and yet it had all crumbled under the weight of a single enemy. Their confidence had been shattered

along with their equipment.

"Do you know where she is now?" Vincent asked.

"She just disappeared, sir," General Harper replied. "One moment she was here, being pounded by our military hardware, and the next... she vanished. We sent drones, scouting parties, everything we could think of, but it's like she never existed."

Vincent's jaw tightened as he absorbed the information. The fact that this powerful enemy had simply vanished without a trace only made the situation more precarious. "We can't afford to let this happen again," Vincent said. "We need to find out what we're

dealing with her powers, her origin, and most importantly, how we can defeat her. We'll need more than just brute force next time."

He turned to Harper, his gaze intense. "I want every detail from this battle analyzed. I want

reports on the wreckage, the tactical mistakes, the enemy's abilities-everything. We'll use

this information to prepare for her eventual return."

"Yes sir!"