Exploded turned and left, relieved but dazed.
He unconsciously quickened his pace, from walking, to running, and finally to flying.
His previous exhaustion had faded with the events that had just occurred, but his questions had not.
Exploded understood what the commander had said, but he didn’t know why he was being told any of it.
He had no special rank or position, and had done nothing that would raise himself in the commander’s vision.
The frequent calls almost every day were enough – a full speech directly to him was even more, and addressing him by name was beyond the limit – but no.
The commander had revealed something to him that he would reveal to no one else.
How did the commander expect him to react? What did the commander want from him?
This thought cast Exploded into another train of thought. Could the commander want Exploded to rise in position – to have power?
Another thought entered itself into Exploded’s mind. It was common for someone to die while trying do something to get themselves promoted.
Could these false tests really be something where all the weak in the Fittus would die in the process, leaving only the strong?
But this sharply contrasted with what the commander had spoken about – equality.
But how much could Exploded really trust the commander?
Exploded never dreamed well, tonight being no exception. He dreamed of war, of blood, of death and pain.
He stood in the middle of a vast battlefield, decorated by small and large craters. Each of these was filled with blood and gore.
Exploded attempted to avert his eyes, but even this simple motion he was unable to perform.
He attempted to fly, to escape the horror, but his wings would not obey. He was forced to watch as a battle ensued.
Something flashed Exploded’s eyes, and though he couldn’t turn, he heard it sink into flesh, and heard the consequent scream of pain.
The sound bore into Exploded’s mind, unbearably loud.
The sky filled with dragons, but Exploded could tell that the enemy was not dragons – the enemy used arrows, which dragons were unable to use.
Again, Exploded strained to lift his wings, but he couldn’t move. He heard a command from above, and the dragons acted in unison, setting fire to the battlefield.
Yet again, Exploded attempted to move , to cover his ears – anything that would not allow him to listen to the screams he knew that he would hear if he remained.
But he was forced to watch. All around him was death. The horror gave him a burst of mental energy – and he forced his wings to lift. Still, they moved sluggishly, as if at their own leisure. He attempted to move them faster – at this rate, he wouldn’t be able to fly.
Then his vision blurred, brightening, his wings falling slackly to his body, and then he was torn from the dream.
His eyes snapped open, and he was panting hard.
What just happened?