The metal of the air ship tore midair and the force of the falling plane threw Oligar into the cockpit controls. Alarms blared—as if it screams doom at their faces. He fought the unresponsive controls of the plane, pushing a lever to lift the plane upwards, muscles straining, but the airship was a wounded beast plummeting towards the jagged rocks below.
"Haaskin!" Oligar shouted over the din, his voice tight with urgency."Master!" came the strained reply from the passenger seat.
With a final, desperate gambit, Oligar managed to level the drop just moments before impact. The airship slammed onto the uneven landscape with a bone-jarring crash, the force throwing both occupants forward against their restraints. moments later, amidst the silence with sounds of puring liquids nearby the crashed plane.
Gasping for breath, Oligar unbuckled his harness with a sharp pain shooting in his shoulder blade. "Haaskin! Report!"
"Ugh... not dead yet, Master.... I can't leave this world before I've done something glorious," Haaskin speaks shakily, pushing himself upright. A trickle of blood ran from a cut on his forehead.
Oligar quickly moved in an attempt to assess his student, then himself. Bruises, scrapes, but not something life-threatening he presumed. "We're alive and that's what matters." He forced open the buckle and pushed cockpit door with his forceful kicks and stumbled out into the dusty land. The scent of burning fuel stung oligar and momentarily tried to stand up and move his corpse-like body to take a good look at the source of the smell coming from above, Star Circle, he registered.
He turned back to help Haaskin, pulling him from the wreckage. "Can you move?"
Haaskin nodded, wincing as he put weight on his left leg. "A bit sore, but yes, it will do."
Their reprieve was not long. A low yet cracking sound of rocks vibrated through the ground, growing steadily louder and shaking slightly. They both looked up towards the colossal Starcircle, still somehow suspended in the sky as if it's telling them it's will come down, only question remains when?.
"What was that?" Haaskin asked, his eyes are wide with allure and alarm.
Oligar's gaze was set up on the intricate grid of energy conduits that pulsed beneath the massive structure. He could see sparks flickering in them and can hear the thundering sounds of the cables breaking off and stressed materials, which were making a cracking sound. "The attack... it must have damaged the power generators holding the starcircles."
Another, more violent tremor shook the ground. Chunks of debris rained down from the underside of the Starcircle.
"Master... it's going to fall!" Haaskin exclaimed, fear lacing his voice.
Oligar's eyes narrowed, calculating the distance, the trajectory. "Yes. And if it does..." The thought of the sheer mass crashing down on them was a chilling prospect.
"We need to move! Now!" Oligar grabbed Haaskin's arm, pulling him forward.
"Which way?" Haaskin cried, stumbling slightly.
Oligar surveyed the area, noting the rugged terrain littered with boulders. "Get away from the potential impact zone! Head for those ridges!"
They start running, attentively, The rumbling grew louder, swelling into a fiery roar as the air shouted aggressively with released energy. Above, the unimaginable unfurled: the enormous Starcircle began to tilt, its flawless spherical shape disrupting its calm stillness is now changing.
"Faster, Haaskin! Move faster!" Oligar shouted, his lungs searing with effort.
When the miles-wide sphere slammed into the chasm floor between the towering plateaus, the impact birthed a cataclysm. The blast was contained by the natural barriers of the walls that covered the huge path, a localized apocalypse that didn't ripple outwards to its celestial brethren. Yet, within the confines of the valley, it was a maelstrom of superheated air and pulverized rock. Shockwaves of raw force hammered against the plateau walls, carving deeper fissures into the ancient stone. Colossal landslides, born of the violent tremor, cascaded down the fractured cliffs, reshaping the landscape in a chaotic instant.
Running was futile. As the shadow of the falling giant engulfed them, both Oligar and Haaskin unleashed their mana in a desperate, synchronized surge. Invisible forces propelled them forward with impossible speed, their bodies mere projectiles against the backdrop of impending annihilation. The searing heat of the blast wave washed over them, a near-lethal caress, but their mana-fueled sprint carried them just beyond the immediate inferno.
They collapsed onto the newly formed scree, lungs burning, the echoes of the world-shattering impact still assaulting their senses. Behind them, a swirling vortex of dust and debris marked the Starcircle's grave. When they looked up, a subtle but significant change had occurred. The shimmering plasma barrier, a defensive net woven by the neighboring Starcircles, had flickered and died in the direction of the fallen behemoth. A raw, scarred corridor, a passage through the enemy's defenses, lay open.
Zedha, a kingdom embraced by impassable mountain ranges, had long relied on its natural fortifications. But the Trader's Union, seizing control of border security, had weaponized this geography. Every mountain pass, every potential land route – especially those vital western arteries that could have served as lifelines from the Democracy – were now heavily fortified, effectively sealing Zedha from terrestrial intervention.
Though the barriers of the surviving Starcircles still shimmered in the distance, a crucial breach had been made. A dent in the enemy's seemingly impenetrable wall. Oligar, his face grim but a flicker of hope igniting in his eyes, retrieved the Manacome from within his cloak. The circular device, its hinged monitor dark, felt familiar and reassuring in his hand. "Open," he commanded, his voice hoarse.
The monitor sprang to life, its surface shimmering. Moments later, as Oligar waited, the concerned face of Mana Master Serek materialised. "Serek," Oligar began, his gaze unwavering. "I've just transmitted a Manacome file. It details everything – the traders' treachery, the Authority's Demana-fier… their operative."
As Oligar spoke, Serek's image flickered, his eyes rapidly scanning the data stream flowing directly into his mind. The Manacome, a marvel of mana-infused technology, allowed not just the transfer of information but a vivid sharing of sensory experience. Serek winced as he virtually relived the airship's crash, felt the oppressive tension within the Starcircle, and recoiled at the chilling aura of the violet-eyed attacker.
Serek's projected form showed a visible shudder as the catastrophic descent of the Starcircle played out in his mind's eye. "Oligar… by the living mana, you were almost lost! Thank you for this timely intelligence. And thank the Light you both survived." Relief washed over his features. "We understand the implications. This breach… it is an opportunity. Reinforcements are already being mobilised."
A grim satisfaction touched Oligar's lips. "Understood, Serek. Swiftly."
"We will be," Serek affirmed, his gaze resolute. "Rest now, Mana Master. You have earned it."
"Rest can wait," Oligar replied, his eyes already scanning the newly opened path, a dangerous and uncertain road ahead. "Goodbye for now, Serek."
The image on the Manacome faded. Oligar closed the device, the weight of it a promise of connection in the hostile landscape.
The fight was far from over.