Chapter 16
On a lone highway, surrounded on both sides by thick, dark forest, the only sounds cutting through the night were the hums and roars of engines. The convoy was a sight to behold—five large, black, reinforced buses, flanked by ten military cars at the front and fifteen at the back. Anyone watching from the trees would think they were headed for war.
They moved at a fast, steady pace, the convoy like a black serpent slicing through the wilderness. Soon, they reached a dark tunnel, and the convoy disappeared into the blackness, swallowed whole by the shadows.
Inside one of the buses, the atmosphere was tense but controlled. At the back seat, Miss Mona leaned toward William, her voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me everything you heard."
William hesitated, glancing around cautiously. He didn't want to risk alerting the enemy. Then, an idea popped into his head. He stood up suddenly, wearing his mischievous grin. "Looks like I'll have to make a little sacrifice," he muttered under his breath.
Then, raising his voice for everyone to hear, William called out, "Hey, everyone! Don't you think this is boring? Just sitting here? Why don't we have some fun?" The students turned toward him, curious. "I heard there's a new song out—something called *Barbie*. Let's have a little competition.
We'll all sing it, and the winner gets a reward."
A student piped up from the middle rows. "What reward?"
William glanced at Miss Mona, mouthing the words "I'm sorry". Then, with a cheeky grin, he replied, "The winner gets Miss Mona's contact."
That did it. The boys in the bus erupted into excited cheers. Some even started doing vocal exercises, warming up their voices, others clapped and laughed. The first student stood up confidently and began singing, "I'm a Barbie girl..."
The atmosphere in the bus shifted quickly. Laughter and playful teasing filled the space. Soon enough, the once silent bus was a riot of off-key singing and chatter. The noise echoed inside the metal walls, but outside, all that could be heard was the dull roar of the convoy moving through the tunnel.
Meanwhile, inside one of the larger military cars, a large man sat in the front seat, his frame so massive it seemed to fill up half the vehicle. His muscles bulged under his military uniform, adorned with several stars on his shoulders, indicating his high rank. He was a replica of Ronnie Coleman, a walking mountain of muscle and power. This was Commander Charles, the leader of the escort.
A soldier seated beside him turned and saluted. "Sir, the students on one of the buses are... singing."
Commander Charles raised an eyebrow and made a disgusted face. "Singing?"
"Yes, sir, they seem to be singing "Barbie Girl", the soldier replied, stifling a laugh.
The commander's face twisted into a scowl of pure disdain. He grabbed the radio and connected himself to the bus, hearing one of the boys sing, "I'm a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world—"
"What's that?!" Commander Charles' voice boomed through the bus's speakers, his deep, commanding tone silencing the students instantly. "Are you all a bunch of wimps?"
The boy stopped singing mid-line, his face turning pale, fearing they were in trouble.
"You are meant to be warriors!" the commander bellowed. "If you want to sing, sing something worthy of a warrior!"
The tension in the bus lifted slightly, the students unsure whether to laugh or stay silent. Before they could react, the commander turned to the soldier next to him and grinned. "Connect me to all the vehicles. Play something better. Something that gets the blood pumping."
"What do you want to play, sir?" the soldier asked.
"Brazilian phonk, of course," the commander replied, his grin growing wider.
The soldier nodded and began typing quickly into the console. Within seconds, the deep bass beats of Brazilian phonk music filled the buses and military cars alike. The mood shifted once again. This time, the students couldn't help but tap their feet or nod their heads. Some moved their hands, others their legs. A few even swayed their hips and shoulders, letting the music flow through them.
William, watching the scene unfold, chuckled to himself. "I don't know who this commander is, but I have to thank him."
With the bus now drowned in the sound of loud music and chatter, William leaned closer to Miss Mona. "Now, no one will hear us."
Miss Mona nodded. "So, what exactly did you hear in the restroom?"
William told her everything—how he had overheard Mr. Duke talking about deaths, and how the man had spoken about traitors. Miss Mona's eyes widened. "That's... the heretics' saying. There's no way a child like you would know that."
"I told you I wasn't lying," William whispered, feeling relieved that she believed him.
Miss Mona bit her lip, clearly thinking hard. "We need to warn the commander."
"Is there a way to contact him?" William asked, his voice hopeful.
She shook her head. "The only way to contact the commander is through Mr. Duke."
William cursed under his breath. "Shit. What do we do?"
"Calm down," Miss Mona said, though her own voice trembled with worry. "We can't alert the enemy. Not yet." She rubbed her temples, trying to think. "Did Mr. Duke say exactly when or where the explosion would happen?"
"All he mentioned was 'in the tunnel.'"
Miss Mona's eyes darted around the bus, panic flashing in her expression. "Shit," she whispered again. "We're already in the tunnel. This isn't good."
Suddenly, a dark thought crossed William's mind. He activated his Third Eye ability and looked toward Mr. Duke, his vision shifting to see the man's soul. The same dark energy he had seen earlier still clung to Mr. Duke's soul crystal—but now, it was growing, spinning violently.
The system's voice echoed in William's mind, cold and detached. "I'm afraid you no longer have time."
William's heart raced. "Miss Mona," he whispered urgently, "Mr. Duke... he's going to blow up. Now!!!"
Her eyes snapped to Mr. Duke, narrowing in focus. "A soul bomb," she muttered. "This is going to be troublesome."
In the next second, the dark energy exploded outward, ripping through the bus like a storm. William's mind spun as the world seemed to slow down. "Am I going to die again?" was his last thought before everything went black.
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Deep underground, in a cavern lit only by flickering torches, a man sat on a throne. His fingers drummed against the stone armrests as he looked down at the subordinate kneeling before him.
"How is it?" he asked, his voice low and cruel.
"They are in position," the subordinate replied, bowing his head.
The man on the throne smiled, his lips curling into a sinister grin. He raised his hand slowly, savoring the moment. "Then let it begin." He chuckled darkly, his voice echoing through the chamber. "Death to the traitors."
And with those final words, the cavern filled with the sounds of dark, malevolent laughter.
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