The ship sliced through the night sky like a silver blade gliding across a dark velvet mantle. Below, France receded into the distance: the prestigious university where the professor had taught for years, and nearby, his cozy home—a modest structure but brimming with memories—now barely visible under the faint light of the stars. Their destination: Russia, a place shrouded in mystery for some of the passengers.
Michele could hardly contain her excitement. The professor's ship was impressive, a customized model that seemed inspired by the advanced aeronauts from her parents' company, yet with a unique touch that made it even more fascinating. To her, it felt as if she had just been handed the most coveted toy, and she couldn't stop admiring it. Her eyes sparkled with childlike curiosity as they roamed over every detail: from the touch panels to the leather seats that seemed to cradle their occupants comfortably.
"Choy," she called to the professor through her earpiece, her voice trembling with barely contained enthusiasm. "How did you manage to get something like this? It's incredible."
Michele's tone was a perfect blend of admiration and awe, as though she were speaking of something almost magical. From his seat in the passenger area, the professor smiled modestly, though his eyes gleamed with a hint of pride. He knew his ship was one of a kind, a technological masterpiece that combined functionality and luxury in ways few could imagine.
"I have my connections," he replied finally, his voice calm but laced with an air of mystery. "A brilliant engineer at the aircraft factory designed this exactly as I requested. I suppose having certain resources available helps too."
Michele nodded, though she knew the professor was being deliberately vague. It wasn't the first time he had avoided giving details about his past or his connections. But that didn't matter at the moment. What truly fascinated her was the ship itself, a living testament to innovation and style.
"It's like a dream come true," she murmured to herself, letting her fingers gently brush against the control panel in front of her. The cold, polished feel of the metal beneath her fingertips sent small jolts of excitement coursing through her body. "If only I could convince my parents to buy me something like this… Well, maybe someday."
Her voice trailed off at the end, as if aware that such a possibility was currently out of reach. But Michele was not someone who gave up easily when faced with obstacles. In her mind, she was already sketching plans, searching for ways to make her own dream a reality.
From the outside, the ship resembled a phoenix reborn from the flames. Its red and orange hues, speckled with flashes of yellow, reflected the starlight like a celestial mosaic. Inside, the luxury was overwhelming. Rows of four ergonomically designed leather seats were spaced apart to offer absolute privacy. In one corner, an elegantly decorated bar offered top-shelf liquors. Beyond that, a full dining area and a private room with a white marble bathroom invited the thought that this vessel was more of a flying mansion than a mere mode of transportation.
"Good heavens, Professor," Michele exclaimed, awestruck once again, "you should introduce me to that engineer. I want one of these too." A melancholic pause followed. "Too bad my parents only give me what's strictly necessary. After all I've done for them…" She shook her head, dismissing the thought. "But well, never mind. Back to the road," she added, addressing Choy, who gave her a pointed look.
"Keep your eyes on the road," Choy reminded her, though his tone was more teasing than reproachful.
"It's obvious the professor has a lot of money," murmured the young man who was her co-pilot, barely audible.
"That's right," Michele confirmed without turning around. "He's Sir Kile, heir to a considerable family fortune."
"I know that. Focus—you told me," Choy replied, gesturing toward the monitors in front of them.
"No problem," Michele responded confidently. "Everything's calm. Just clean air and a bit of turbulence—nothing I can't handle." She turned her face to the monitors, watching as the radar images displayed scattered clouds beneath them.
In the back of the ship, Melisa was chatting animatedly with Creg about their plans for when they arrived in Moscow. Not far away, Ian and Philip were discussing some technical topic, laughing occasionally. It seemed the journey had given them enough time to form a friendship.
"Can't this thing go any faster?" Melisa asked impatiently, leaning forward to speak to the professor.
Kile smiled. "Actually, yes, it can." He pressed a button on his console to communicate with the cockpit. "Michele, press the golden button."
"What does the golden button do?" Choy asked, intrigued.
"That," the professor replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "is an enhanced propulsion system. It'll get us to our destination in less than an hour. But do you think you can handle all that power?"
Choy chuckled nervously. "Why did you tell her that? Now she'll want to try it." He glanced at Michele, whose fingers were already hovering over the golden button, eager.
"Of course I can," Michele responded with a defiant smile. "Everyone, hold on tight."
When she pressed the button, the ship's wings folded with a mechanical hum, revealing hidden thrusters. The eye-shaped headlights in the front cabin lit up with blinding intensity. An automated voice echoed through the speakers: "Please specify your destination."
Melisa leaned forward. "Moscow."
"Understood. Please ensure you are safe," the voice replied, followed by a countdown on the main screen: 3… 2… 1…
With a deafening roar, the ship accelerated as if pulled by a hurricane. The clouds streaked past at such speed they seemed like an endless treadmill ribbon. Inside the cabin, everyone was jolted by the force of the movement. Some laughed, others screamed, and even the smallest objects vibrated with contained energy. Michele, gripping the controls, smiled with a mix of adrenaline and pride. There was something magical about being so close to pure technology, as if the entire world had shrunk to speed and the promise of the unknown.
When the ship finally slowed down and announced in a mechanical voice: "You have arrived at your destination. Preparing to descend," everyone sighed in relief. However, not everyone reacted the same way. Creg staggered to his feet, his face pale, one hand pressing against his stomach. "I need a bathroom," he muttered before disappearing toward the back of the ship. It seemed the turbulence had left him dizzy and in a foul mood.
"What was that jolt?" Ian remarked, chuckling under his breath as he glanced at Philip, the doctor's assistant. "Not even smoking could do something like that," he added humorously, trying to lighten the mood. Melisa, though slightly dizzy, managed to stay steady. Meanwhile, Professor Kile appeared uneasy, as if he already sensed that something wasn't right. Choy was also affected; she felt nauseous but clenched her lips, determined not to show any weakness.
The ship touched down with a slight tremor. As soon as the doors opened, Choy bolted out, her boots hitting the ground with gratitude. "Thank heavens we're on solid ground," she exclaimed, taking a deep breath of the cold night air. But when she looked up, her relief turned to horror. The entire area was engulfed in flames. Collapsed structures, smoldering ruins, and debris everywhere painted a desolate scene.
The young man instinctively stepped back, bumping into Ian and Philip, who had already disembarked behind him. "But what happened here?" the professor asked, his voice heavy with disbelief and fear. "This was supposed to be Moscow's airport… or well, what's left of it," Kile murmured, observing the chaos with a mix of astonishment and concern.
"So we did arrive at the right place," Melisa said with determination, adjusting her backpack to her shoulder. "It's time to start looking for answers." Beside her, Creg was still trying to recover from the dizziness, though he still looked pale. Meanwhile, Michele maneuvered the ship toward the remains of a nearby hangar, hiding it among the rubble. Philip, ever efficient, began unloading supplies needed for the group.
Everyone ventured outside, cautiously walking across the devastated terrain. They searched for signs of life, anything that might explain what had happened there. But there was no one. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the crackling of flames and the crunch of debris beneath their feet. It was then that Ian spotted an abandoned truck. Though somewhat battered, it seemed functional. With some difficulty, everyone squeezed inside, cramped but safe.
As they drove forward, the landscape only grew worse. Houses and buildings were destroyed or burning in flames, as if an infernal storm had swept through the area. "Who could have done this?" Kile asked again, his tone filled with frustration.
"It was them," Melisa declared with conviction. "Those bastards from Radar. They're responsible for attacks like this—at least, that's what I've seen on social media. I'm sure it was them."
They continued onward, but soon spotted several dark figures approaching in the distance. Dressed in black suits and masks covering their faces, they moved with chilling precision. "Oh no! It's them!" Michele exclaimed from the passenger seat, her voice trembling. "They're the same ones who attacked my uncle, according to the information Tecro shared with us. ¡Reverse, Ian!"
Ian began to slowly reverse, but one of the figures quickly approached and extended a hand toward him. Before anyone could react, Ian slumped unconscious over the steering wheel. "We can't stay here!" Michele shouted, desperately trying to move Ian from the driver's seat while pulling the handbrake to stop the vehicle from rolling backward. "Come on, guys, ¡help me move him! I'll drive," she ordered urgently, unbuckling Ian's seatbelt.
"Hey, Michele!" Choy interjected, her voice trembling with fear. "We need to get out fast. We don't have time for this."
"Why? ¡I can get us out of here!" Michele retorted, but before she could act, a deafening sound echoed through the air. Someone wielding an enormous metal bar, as thick as a pole, hurled it directly at the vehicle. The bar struck with devastating force, crushing the car as if it were made of paper.
"Good thing I pulled you out in time," Choy whispered, grabbing Michele's hand and yanking her back. Creg, with surprising strength, hoisted the unconscious Ian into his arms while the rest of the group sprinted toward the safety of the professor, who had already opened his door and was shouting: "Everyone, get out now!"
After escaping the wreckage, the group found themselves surrounded by a sea of unsettling figures: young people and children wearing masks that concealed their faces, emanating an overwhelming energy. The scene was chaotic and tense. On one side of the battlefield stood Melisa, Creg, Ian, and Philip, while on the other, Michele, Choy, and Professor Kile tried to hold their ground. The air vibrated with a mix of fear and determination.
The metal bar that had crushed the vehicle began to slowly dissolve, melting as if it were liquid under the manipulation of one of the masked youths. With a fluid motion, the boy drew the metal back into his hand, transforming it into a kind of gleaming gauntlet. "They weren't lying when they said there were kids with powers," Melisa murmured, her voice filled with awe and concern.
The group instinctively gathered together, forming a defensive circle as they watched the ten figures in front of them begin to manifest unique abilities. One generated a blue flame in his palm; another, with a simple gesture, levitated several pieces of debris from the ground as if they were floating weapons. A third extended his hands and released sonic waves that resonated like an earsplitting echo. It was clear that each possessed a distinct and lethal power.
"This can't be real," Melisa thought, her mind rapidly processing the situation. The controlled subjects were already closing in, moving with almost mechanical precision. Her group was trapped, with no apparent way out. "This is the end," Choy thought, gripping Michele's and Professor Kile's hands tightly. Her fingers trembled, but her grip was firm. "So fast… we didn't even have time for a quest," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the roar of the flames and the crunch of debris.
The group exchanged a glance filled with resignation and determination. They knew this could be their final battle, the last chapter of THE FINDERS. But even at that moment of despair, something in their hearts refused to give up. They weren't going to fall without a fight.
Michele closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking a deep breath. When she opened them, her gaze was filled with resolve. "If we're going down, we'll do it together," she said firmly, breaking the tense silence. "We won't give them the satisfaction of seeing us defeated."
Professor Kile nodded, adjusting his stance as if preparing to face fate itself. "Let's remember who we are," he added, his tone calm but full of authority. "We are THE FINDERS. And though the world may have failed us, we will not fail in our quest."
The masked figures were now just a few meters away, their movements calculated and menacing. The flames dancing around them cast long, distorted shadows over the cracked ground. The air was thick with static electricity, as if the approaching storm was not only physical but also emotional.
"Now!" Melisa shouted, shattering the tension. Everyone surged forward, determined to face whatever came their way.