Alarms

The next day, Mateus expected to be the same as all the rest - sadly, he was wrong. Just after morning training, as he was voraciously devouring his food in the Mess hall, an alarm sounded, and everything stopped.

It rang out harshly, a dark copper klaxon that filled the air urgency - first strike, second, third - all the way to the eighth hit, before a brief pause and repeat.

Everything dissolved into ordered chaos, with only Mateus and the other trainees left bewildered, frozen in place. The senior trainer of the day swiftly gave out orders - get up, eat as you run, grab your combat gear and head to the walls!

As Mateus forced himself to swallow his food while he ran with the group to the barracks, a sinking feeling of despair bubbled up from the depths of his heart.

Only a few days back the group was briefed about the klaxon, and what different numbers of strikes meant - one, a single Mutant Beast approaches the patrol area outside the city.

Two, a small group of Mutant Beasts approaches the patrol zone.

Three, a large group nears the patrol zone.

Four, a single Mutant Beast has broken into Florinad City.

Five, several Mutant Beasts have entered the city.

Six, a large group is trying to enter the city.

Seven, a group large enough to destroy the city is approaching.

Eight, the Mutant Beasts are at the wall, and there are enough to destroy the city.

There is no alarm number nine, because anything threatening enough to warrant it is so far beyond the ability of Florinad to resist that there's no point. Instead, all the key evacuation targets would be relocated to the Essence Vale for the last stand against extinction.

Mateus was sweating in fear and stress - this situation is so far beyond his abilities that he wanted to grab Danica and run! Sadly, despite his many Contracts, Mateus' only combat ability is Chill Shot. This is a considered more of a control ability rather than a killing move. The best he could do is wave a small knife and hope these attackers have thin and fragile hides.

Moving with his group, practically sprinting, Mateus arrived at the exit point of the base - here different vehicles powered by contractors and beasts are loaded up with people and supplies, and sent dashing off towards the outer walls without delay.

At this point, every person who has contracted a mount is required to take a burden. Mateus called out the arrogant Roobit and the pair were given a small rickshaw-like tray to drive, because neither has reached their full growth yet. A special harness placed on the Roobit converts his jolting hops into a continuous pull, preventing supplies from being jolted out onto the road.

It's the first time Mateus has ever handled this thing, and it takes a while before he understands where all the different buckles and straps go. After fifteen minutes struggle, an older soldier steps up from a passing unit to help him out. By this point, most of the other trainees have already departed, vanishing into the distance on different vehicles and beasts.

Finally, twenty minutes later, Mateus was on the road, standing up holding a set of ropes that connect to the harness at the shoulders of the Roobit. Most Beasts will not consent to wearing reigns, and if you try to put a bridle on them, they will try to kill you, contract or not.

In the heavy traffic, the Roobit is extremely small, and not very fast. He's not used to having to run with a burden following him, and the stress and exertion forced the arrogant creature into silence.

Around them run predators like wolves with riders, massive Crickets and scuttling arachnids pulling carriages with their own silk, lumbering Elephants and yaks covered in saddles and packs, and even larger flightless birds of many shapes and colours dragging carriages and cargo trains just as strange and varied.

Dust fills the air, in front, at the sides and behind, and all the world narrows away to this road, this dash, this mad stampede towards danger and death. The panting breaths of the dashing mounts, the eager cries of the predators and the woeful calls of the prey, and the thunder of a thousand types of limbs crashing upon the hard packed road below.

The day is barely beginning, and for many here it will be the last day of their lives…