Page 58 of The Misplaced Warrior

A surge of triumph welled up within her at once. Gen let out a triumphant yell, needing to release the tension that had been building within her. The yelp of victory unleashed a fierce joy that made her heart sing and her blood race with even more adrenaline.

She and Emperor had struck a blow for freedom. They had given the people of Los Angeles a chance to reclaim their minds and their lives. Even if the citizens had no idea that they’d been controlled, Gen knew that their chains were being destroyed and that brought her a happiness like no other.

The authorities would be on their trail now. The first tower had been easy. However, what followed next would undoubtedly be a relentless pursuit that would test their skills and their resolve to the very limit.

With a final, searing blast of heat, Emperor extinguished his flames, leaving the remains of the transmitter to smolder and smoke in the afternoon sun. Gen leaned forward, her hand resting on his scales, feeling the power and the strength that flowed within him. He had performed expertly, using his power efficiently to bring down the first transmitter.

“Good work,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the roar of the wind. “Now, we head east. The next one is waiting for us.”

Emperor gave a nod of acknowledgment. His muscles flexed as he prepared to take off through the skies once more. Gen’s pulse skyrocketed with mounting anticipation. She had always loved this moment when in battle with the thrill of the hunt and the promise of victory singing in her veins.

As the pair rose higher into the air, away from the torched tower, the wind whipped at their faces and the sun beat at their backs. Gen believed that they were a force to be reckoned with. She and Emperor were a partnership forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the unbreakable bonds of trust and loyalty.

The road ahead would be long and fraught with danger, but together, they would see it through to the end. For the people of Los Angeles, for the truth, and for the future that hung in the balance, waiting to be claimed by those with the courage and the will to fight for it. This medieval warrior believed she’d been misplaced for a reason—all so she could protect the modern world from new age injustices.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

SOARING REBELLION

East Los Angeles, California, United States

Gen and Emperor surged through the clear blue skies, navigating their way across the city. They both felt the urgency of their mission as it propelled them forward with a frantic force. The knowledge that the authorities could be mobilizing at any moment, ready to thwart their efforts, added an extra layer of tension to their already heightened state of alertness. Every glint of sunlight off a passing car, every distant thrumming of a helicopter’s blades, sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through Gen’s veins, her senses honed to a razor’s edge.

Dragon and rider raced eastward, their eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of the second transmitter. They were guided only by Alicia’s general instructions and their own determination. However, Gen was enlivened after seeing the first tower and knowing more accurately what they were looking for. It was relieving to know that the transmitters couldn’t hide from them. Nonetheless, they were also very present for others to see as Gen and Emperor made their attack on them.

The city below was a blur of motion and color, the winding streets and sprawling neighborhoods passed by in a dizzying medley of urban life. As they flew, the billboards that dotted the landscape loomed before them like the faces of overbearing tyrants, their messages changing. Gen was unsurprised to see them turning even more sinister and oppressive. It was as if the Commissioner knew he was under attack and had to pull out all the stops. If he didn’t know that Gen and her dragon were waging war on his illegal campaign then he would very, very soon.

Gen spied one of the closer billboards, narrowing her eyes at the words running across it. “Conformity is the key to happiness,” it proclaimed in stark, unyielding letters.

Gen shook her head. “That’s sick.”

“It’s control,” Emperor said aloud and in her head. “That’s what those who want power they don’t deserve do. They brainwash people into obedience.”

Another billboard in the distance came into view. Gen focused on it, trying to read the words from miles away. “Doubt is the enemy of progress,” it insisted, its words etched into the very fabric of the city’s psyche.

“Wow, that’s subtle, yet powerful,” Gen remarked, shaking her head at the strangeness that was her reality.

“Manipulation usually is,” Emperor replied. “A true tyrant needs the people to follow him blindly. Then they can get away with their crimes effortlessly.”

Gen’s heart clenched at the sight of these digital dictators, their influence seeping into the minds of the innocent and unsuspecting. She could almost feel the weight of their control and the way they chipped away at the very essence of individuality and free will. It felt like the worst type of manipulation because the unsuspecting citizens had no idea what was being done to them. To enslave people without their knowledge was sick.

Emperor sensed her unease, his own mind brushing against hers in a silent show of support. They were in this together, a united front against the forces that sought to strip the people of Los Angeles of their autonomy and their dreams. Still, Gen knew what they were facing was an overwhelming force. However, as surreal as it felt to be fighting something so technical with her medieval framework, she also knew that’s why she was called to this mission.

As they scanned the horizon, a glimmer of something bright and momentarily blinding caught Gen’s eye. She focused, making out a flash of metal amidst the urban sprawl. Leaning forward, her gaze sharpened, and there it was—the second transmitter. The structure towered over the area where it was stationed, rising from a barren patch of desert like a malevolent sentinel.

It was amazing to Gen how varied the landscape of Los Angeles was. She glanced over her shoulder to the green, rolling hills where she and Emperor had just fought the first tower. It was bizarre that only miles away, to the east, the scenery was stark and brown, a dry desert stretching before them. However, Gen was grateful that she didn’t have to worry about marring the land as they brought down the second transmitter.

The area was eerily quiet as Gen and Emperor soared closer to the gleaming structure in the distance. The bustle of the city faded away as they drew closer to their target. The air seemed to hum with an undercurrent of menace, like there was a palpable sense of danger that set Gen’s nerves on edge.

Dragon and rider approached cautiously, every muscle tensed and ready for action. The transmitter loomed before them, its metal frame glinting in the harsh desert sunlight. Gen wouldn’t feel remorse for destroying it since it was a monument to the Commissioner’s deception and cruelty.

But even as they prepared to strike, Gen couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. The silence was too deep, the stillness too absolute. It was as if the very earth itself was holding its breath, waiting for the moment when everything would come crashing down around them.

Emperor’s eyes narrowed, his senses reaching out to probe the surrounding area for any hint of a threat. Gen’s hand tightened on his reins, her other hand reaching for the weapon at her side. Bellumferrum sat nestled in her pocket, ready to defend the dragonrider and her mission at a moment’s notice. However, since Gen didn’t know what danger lay before them, only sensing that something was lurking, she decided not to pull out the Weapon of War. She’d save it for when she knew more.

Gen and Emperor were racing against time. They both knew that every second they spent in this desolate place was a second that the Commissioner’s influence continued to spread unchecked. But they also knew that they could not afford to be reckless, to let their guard down for even a moment.

In this new world of shadows and deception, where the very thoughts of the people were under siege, the price of failure was a fate far worse than death. It was a fate of endless servitude, of minds and hearts shackled to the whims of a tyrant who knew no mercy and no bounds. And so, as Gen and Emperor hovered before the transmitter, their hearts pounding and their senses on high alert, they braced themselves for whatever lay ahead. They would not falter, would not succumb to the fear and the doubt that threatened to consume them.

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