On the coastline of Port Augusta, a building stands, resonating with the rhythmic thud of something being struck repeatedly. The echoes seem to pulsate in the air, resonating deeply within any soul who would hear. But only one person hears it - Sebastian, an aging man whose physique belies his years. His strength is enigmatic, but his demeanor exudes a quiet, unspoken excellence.
In his hands, he carries a platter, a solitary water bottle resting on it. He traverses a corridor, his body moving with such grace that it almost seems as though he's floating. The rhythmic pounding grows louder with each step he takes, culminating in a thunderous roar as he nears a specific room.
Knocking on the door, Sebastian enters, the knock signaling a sudden cessation of the pounding noise. "Master, the reports have arrived," he declares, presenting the water to Lance. He pauses, contemplating the next question, "Should we bring the appointment closer or..." His words trail off as he notices a subtle shift in Lance's demeanor. It's a change so minute that only those intimately acquainted with Lance - his mother or siblings - would recognize. Fear. Genuine fear.
"Master, what's wrong?" The shock in Sebastian's voice is palpable. Lance quickly masks his emotions, replying, "It's nothing." He redirects the conversation abruptly, "How are the drones coming along?"
Sebastian begins to respond as Lance retrieves the water bottle, his voice steady, "The drones are nearing the final stages of development. Ayrn will be running a few diagnostic checks and should have a report by morning." He reaches to a side table, retrieving a towel and handing it to Lance, who dabs at the sweat on his face and chest.
"That's good news," Lance says, a smirk gracing his features, "We're going to be in for it when the world hears about this." But his eyes betray a subtle unease that Sebastian doesn't miss.
The next few hours are filled with discussions about the drone project, logistics, potential obstacles, and the upcoming appointment. Lance's fear is left unspoken, an undercurrent beneath their conversations. Sebastian cannot shake the feeling of unease that pervades the room, a silent testament to the troubles that lie ahead.
By the time Sebastian leaves Lance's training room, the evening has turned into night, the moon casting long shadows throughout the building. The echoes of the earlier training session still resonate in Sebastian's mind, underscoring the urgency of their work and the unease in Lance's eyes.
Every step back to his quarters is heavy with a newfound dread, his heart echoing the earlier pounding rhythm. It's a rhythm that Sebastian finds himself unable to shake, a symbol of the turbulent times they find themselves in, a steady beat underscoring the undercurrents of fear, uncertainty, and an imminent change that promises to turn their world upside down.