The group carefully descended the rocky hillside, where the terrain began to flatten. As Medusa rounded a bend with the others, they came upon a peculiar machine—a large craft topped with spinning blades. Soldiers bustled around it, busy with preparations and loading.

  Medusa froze.

  The flying machine in front of her resembled a massive, dark catfish with half a tail. Transparent panels—clear as polished stone—were scattered across its surface, offering a glimpse inside.

  For all their apparent advancements, everything about these people felt dull and joyless—their clothing, their equipment, and now this machine. She had expected something grander, something dazzling with bright colors, intricate carvings, and flowing artwork. More akin to Apollo’s golden chariot than this grim creation, the color of a dark, drab olive. Whoever built this had no interest in beauty.

  It was a single, unbroken dark shade, bulging at the front where people sat and tapering toward the rear. Two figures occupied the cockpit—as Jim had called it—their heads enclosed in large helmets with dark, opaque shields that concealed their faces. The central section was a spacious compartment lined with what looked like makeshift seats arranged so passengers faced each other. Ahead of this area was another seating section, slightly smaller.

  She approached it, noting that the main compartment could seat eight, while the front could accommodate five.

  As she drew closer, one soldier signaled to the two helmeted figures at the front.

  Jim motioned her to keep low as the massive blades atop the machine began spinning faster, blurring into motion while a powerful gust of wind surged outward. Dust kicked up around them, whipping through her snakes who hissed and writhed in agitation at the sudden turbulence. Then came the deafening sound—a smooth yet thunderous whistling roar that filled the air.

  Just as she raised her hands to shield her ears, Jim offered her a strange object: two large, padded bulbs joined together. With a quick gesture, he showed her how to fit them over her ears.

  Cautiously, he guided the device into place, carefully avoiding the snakes that twisted and flicked atop her head. It was uncomfortable but practical.

  With the device now covering her ears, the overwhelming noise dulled to a low roar. Around her, the others secured themselves with straps, fastening them tightly with metal clasps. Medusa quickly realized their purpose—to keep them from being thrown from the machine’s open sides.

  Jim assisted Medusa into a seat, tightening the strap around her waist. She coiled her tail beneath her seat, adjusting to the unfamiliar restraint. Once settled, he sat next to her and made a simple hand gesture—a closed fist with his thumb pointing upward. “It means, ‘Are you all right?’ If you are, do the same thing to me—thumbs-up, like this.”

  Medusa mimicked the gesture. She took a moment to observe how none of these strange people seemed to mind her appearance. Unlike the fearful or disgusted reactions she had grown used to, they treated her as just another person.

  Through the other side, she spotted Perseus and his men climbing in the opposite side. Their expressions mirrored her own—wonder, uncertainty, and cautious excitement. Other soldiers helped them secure their places, just as she had been assisted.

  Veronica climbed into the seat across from her, facing her. She flashed a thumbs-up. Medusa returned the gesture, and the two exchanged a brief, knowing smile.

  The deep hum of the rotating blades grew more intense, their rhythmic vibrations pulsing through the metal floor beneath her. Outside, the roar thickened into a thunderous crescendo, whipping dust and debris into a frenzied whirlwind.

  She glanced at the ground outside. In an instant, the earth began to fall away. The ground shrank rapidly, as if being pulled away by some unseen force. Her breath caught in her throat. This sensation was exhilarating—unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

  The entrance to her cave remained visible for a fleeting moment before vanishing into the distance. The mountain itself, once an immovable monolith, shrank steadily as distance consumed it.

  That cave had been her world, a place of safety and solitude. But it had also been her prison. And now she was leaving it behind. A swell of emotion rose in her chest—loss, uncertainty, a lingering sadness. But also an undeniable sense of wonder as she soared into the unknown, trading loneliness for possibility.

  She gazed out over the vast ocean, eyes wide. She’d seen the sea before, but never from this height—not from the top of a mountain or the tallest tree. From here, she could see everything in breathtaking clarity: the endless horizon, the ripple of waves breaking along the shore, the dense forests, and the winding river.

  As the machine climbed higher, the clouds loomed closer until they surrounded her entirely. She had always imagined clouds to be solid, fluffy masses, but now she saw the truth: they were nothing more than thick, swirling fog—cool and damp against her skin. Wind whipped through the craft, and fine droplets of water clung to the clear barriers surrounding them. Light caught the moisture, scattering in brief glints of color—tiny rainbows reflecting off the mist.

  She smiled to herself. Good time for more candy.

  Reaching into her small bag, she poured out a handful of the tiny colorful sweets and popped a few into her mouth, letting the flavors burst on her tongue.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jim’s voice crackled through her earpiece, breaking her trance.

  Medusa raised her voice. “Can you hear me?” she shouted over the roar of the helicopter.

  Jim nodded, smiling. “Yes, I can hear you through this. No need to yell,” he said, tapping his microphone.

  “Oh,” she mumbled, her cheeks reddening. “I apologize.”

  Jim chuckled.

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re doing great.”

  Medusa allowed herself a small smile. This was all so strange, so new. She gazed out at the horizon with fascination. The clouds ahead thinned, revealing scattered islands dotting the vast ocean below. The sight was mesmerizing—land seemingly adrift in the endless sea.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  She soon realized she wasn’t the only one captivated by the view. Everyone around her was now staring out at the horizon, taking it in.

  “It’s why we keep the doors open,” Jim said, sweeping his arm in front of him. “No matter how many times we do this, it never gets old. It’s especially breathtaking at sunset, when the sky turns fiery red and orange.”

  Medusa hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Thank you for letting me fly with you. To be in the air like this. It brings a kind of peace. The view is breathtaking. I’m grateful for this experience.”

  Jim smiled. “You’re welcome. And don’t worry, we’ll have plenty more chances to do this.”

  Medusa’s eyes lit up. “Truly? That would bring me such joy.”

  She spent the rest of the trip in quiet contemplation, watching the seascape drift past below. As the flying machine began its descent, Medusa caught sight of their destination—a vast rectangular expanse sprawling across the top of a distant plateau. Steep cliffs dropped off into the ocean on two sides, while a wide river bordered another. On the nearest side, a gentle slope led down to a rocky beach. Beyond the river, a forest stretched into the distance, a narrow path winding through its depths. A bridge, seemingly made of two large metal pieces connected by a round joint, spanned the river. Further beyond, a towering mountain range loomed over the landscape.

  Within the expansive rectangular area, neatly arranged buildings stood off to one side, their construction unlike anything she had seen before. They were painted a light tan, topped with brown slanted roofs, and punctuated by evenly spaced large transparent rectangles. Dark, glossy squares were arranged in perfect order across the rooftops.

  On the ground, massive dark green machines glided along broad black paths marked with white dashed lines. As they approached what looked like space enough to land, more flying machines lifted off as others touched down nearby. Soldiers moved in and out of them with precise coordination, their movements so perfectly synchronized they seemed choreographed through countless rehearsals.

  A short distance away, a group of men and women marched in perfect formation. Their steps were evenly spaced, their timing impeccable, their discipline and professionalism unmistakable. Though she had seen such order before in armies of warriors, this was something even more refined.

  What have I gotten myself into?

  Right after the machine set down, everyone hopped out except Medusa and Jim. Jim helped unclasp the straps and held her hand as she slid down onto the concrete below. She saw him eyeing the bow and arrow set she removed from the seat. The bow was made of layered wood, and the ends were sculpted into snakeheads where the drawstring was tied.

  “Nice bow. Did you make that?” Jim asked.

  Medusa hesitated, her gaze lingering on the exquisite weapon. "No, I could never craft something this intricate. Athena gifted it to me."

  “She gave you that?”

  “Yes, and my armor as well. It’s not very comfortable, but she said it will protect me from harm.”

  “That’s… very thoughtful of her.”

  Medusa wondered if he doubted her explanation, but she quickly pushed the thought aside, unwilling to dwell on the painful events that had unfolded back at the temple.

  Another time, perhaps.

  Medusa could see four figures approaching. She immediately recognized one among them—a centaur whose powerful form commanded attention. Half man, half horse, he had long flowing hair and a thick beard, his armor and helmet matching those worn by the soldiers. This was Chiron, the centaur whose wisdom and battle-hardened experience had shaped countless heroes throughout the ages. His name was spoken with reverence across every corner of the land, his teachings having become legend in this era where almost everyone knew of his mighty reputation.

  “Chiron is with you?” Medusa asked, her voice lifting with excitement.

  “Yep. He joined us about ten days ago,” Jim said. “Great guy. Real smart. Hell of a chess player.”

  “Chess?”

  “Oh, it’s a strategic board game. Each player takes turns moving their pieces, trying to capture their opponent’s pieces and control the board. The goal is to trap the other player’s king so it can’t escape—that’s called checkmate. When that happens, the game’s over.”

  Medusa’s eyes lit up. “Is it anything like Petteia?”

  “Hmm… you know, it might’ve actually developed from that,” Jim replied, stroking his chin.

  They shared a smile.

  She was eager to meet Chiron—not because of his wisdom, status, or reputation, but for a simpler reason—he wasn’t human. If people were used to seeing him around, maybe they could get used to seeing her, too.

  She glanced around as large metal horseless chariots rumbled past, their passengers waving and nodding in friendly acknowledgment. The openness and warmth of the place caught her off guard.

  Chiron was the first to speak as the group approached. “Glad to see you made it back, Lieutenant. I take it your latest venture was a success?”

  Jim replied, his face lighting up with a broad grin. "Good to see you too, Chiron." Chiron's eyes shifted to Medusa, and his expression warmed considerably. "And I see you've brought a very lovely young lady with you!"

  She flushed at the compliment.

  “Chiron, I’d like you to meet Medusa, our newest guest,” Jim said, stepping aside with a graceful gesture in her direction.

  Chiron dipped his head in greeting. “Well, hello there, my dear. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Chiron, director of Mythos Relations—at least, that’s the title they’ve given me. Welcome to Fort Bogart! I hope your stay here is everything you wish it to be.”

  Medusa was utterly speechless. The mighty and esteemed centaur Chiron, trainer of legendary heroes, not only recognized her but also welcomed her? A smile spread across her face as they shook hands, her serpents writhing in excitement.

  "It is a great honor to meet you, Chiron. Tales of your wisdom and deeds have long reached my ears. They say you guided heroes—Jason, Heracles… and many others. Is this truly so?"

  Chiron chuckled, nodding. "Indeed, I did. You seem familiar with our most celebrated heroes—perhaps from your time serving at Athena's temple?"

  "Yes," Medusa admitted. "I never thought I would have the chance to meet you in person."

  Chiron's eyes gleamed with warmth. "Ah, I see. You are as knowledgeable as you are gracious. Allow me to introduce you to the senior members of Fort Bogart."

  With a slow, deliberate motion, Chiron gestured toward a distinguished-looking man standing with him. “May I present,” he announced, “the leader of this fine facility, Lieutenant Colonel Maddock.”

  Medusa turned to see an older gentleman with a striking mix of gray and black hair under peculiar round hat and a neatly groomed mustache. He stood about as tall as Jim but lacked the same muscular build. Atop his head rested a peculiar round headdress emblazoned with a golden bird insignia. His attire differed from Jim’s—a tan shirt beneath a dark green fabric coat, fastened with a matching belt. Many ?colorful, wide-striped rectangles adorned ?his left chest.

  The man gave her a polite nod and extended his hand. “Good afternoon, Medusa, and welcome. I am Lieutenant Colonel Maddock, commander of the 1st Strategic Recruitment Battalion. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  “And you as well.” Medusa shook his hand.

  Chiron continued, “And this… is Captain Daniel Slater.”

  Captain Slater shook Medusa’s hand firmly. “Hello, Medusa. Pleased to meet you,” he said with a nod. He was slightly taller than Jim, with a more muscular build and a few extra years of experience etched into his sharp features. He also wore a similar hat to Maddock’s. A thin, well-kempt mustache framed his upper lip. Like Maddock, he wore the same military-style uniform, though with fewer colorful rectangles on his chest.

  Chiron gestured to the last man. “And here,” he said with a hint of admiration, “is one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever known—the facility’s researcher, Major Michael Chang.”

  Chang appeared older than Slater but not as seasoned as Maddock. A little shorter than Jim, with a flatter face, a short nose, and narrow eyes. His dark hair was neatly combed, his face clean-shaven. Resting on his face were round shields, like her own, but clear and colorless. He wore a crisp white coat that extended past his knees, and tucked into a flap on the chest were several thin, pointed instruments. Medusa suspected he was a wise man among this group—perhaps a scholar.

  Major Chang extended his hand. “Welcome, Medusa. I hope you enjoy your stay with us.”

  “I thank you,” she replied, casting her gaze about. “This place—it is orderly, refined, and wondrous in its design. Marvelous.”

  Chang smiled. “Indeed, it is a very special place. I am pleased that you find it favorable. I’m sure Lieutenant Barnett will help you get settled in.”

  Captain Slater turned to Jim. “Lieutenant, can you see to her needs right away? You and your squad are dismissed, but be at the main hangar tomorrow at 0700 for further mission orders. Understood?”

  “Certainly, Captain,” Jim said, inclining his head before stepping back. Then, with sharp precision, he lifted his hand to the brim of his helmet in a motion too swift for casual greeting, too rigid for mere respect. A warrior’s signal, perhaps? An oath? She narrowed her eyes.

  Strange customs, these men of iron and thunder.