Wonderful Insane World-Chapter 187: Bad News

Maggie leaned against the metal railing of the watchtower, arms crossed, her gaze lost on the ashen lands of the center. The dust kicked up by patrols settled back in dull swirls, like ash in a light already dead.

She had received the report an hour earlier.

Dylan had been captured.

By Pilaf’s troops, according to Alka’s cold, clipped words. Infiltration of a convoy. Interception of a message meant for the Marshal. Spotted. Caught. Interrogated.

And finally, charged as a spy.

Maggie didn’t move.

She could have screamed, smashed something, cursed the stupidity of that idiot who’d gotten himself into deep shit again. But no. She stayed there. Upright. Stillness as her only protest.

"Damn fool..." she finally murmured, barely audible.

She still remembered the day he had first shown up in her unit. That insolent look, that tone too casual for a cadet. She’d hated him at first. Like you hate a splinter—the kind of thing too small to justify rage, but just enough to keep you from closing your fist without thinking about it. And yet, he’d ended up carving out his place. Not just through skill—though that was part of it—but through his ability to survive, to slip out of trouble where others would’ve gotten their brains blown out.

"He’ll make it out, right?" Elisa would have asked.

But Elisa didn’t know yet.

Maggie sighed. A short, controlled breath, full of restrained tension. It was always the same: when a soldier fell, you had to deal with the living. And right now, it wasn’t Dylan who worried her the most.

It was her.

Elisa.

That elf who had been abandoned and at the end of her rope when they’d found her, who had relearned how to appreciate warmth through them. Who followed Dylan like a wobbly North Star, with that feverish loyalty in her eyes. She wasn’t going to take this well.

And she was going to want to act.

"She’s going to want to do something, I know it..." Maggie thought, straightening up.

She could already feel it. Like a wave about to crash ashore. Elisa wasn’t the type to stay behind. Especially not when it came to him. Sometimes, she had that look—the kind that said she only retreated to charge harder later.

Maggie, though, knew what it was like to lose a comrade. Not a friend. A comrade. There was a difference. Someone you kept standing when things got shaky, because if you didn’t, you’d fall with them. That kind of bond wasn’t about sentiment. It was structure.

And Dylan was part of their structure.

So yeah, it hurt.

But now wasn’t the time for that.

She climbed down from the watchtower, her boots clanging against the metal steps. The air had that taste of metal and dampness, like a promise of rain or blood.

She was going to have to tell Elisa.

Prepare the ground. Brace for impact before it exploded onto the others.

But most of all, she was going to have to anticipate. Because if Elisa decided to move—and she would, damn it—it had to be with direction. Purpose. Otherwise, it was guaranteed disaster. Maggie didn’t have the patience of a strategist, but she had the instincts of a survivor: channel the rage before it turned to chaos.

And then... there was that lingering, silent question.

Why had Dylan done this alone?

That girl... Alka. Wasn’t she supposed to be covering for Dylan in the enemy base?

And what had he really been carrying in that convoy?

Maggie grimaced.

There were too many shadows.

And not enough time.

And a kid ready to burn down an entire camp to save a half-dead man.

She was going to have to move fast. Very fast.

Before Elisa turned her pain into open war.

Maggie left the quarters assigned to the provocation unit without a word to anyone. The atmosphere in the Martissant military base was always tense, but today, it was something else. Something denser, more personal. Like an undercurrent only seasoned swimmers could recognize.

The sheet-metal corridors hummed with hushed conversations, the sound of boots, the scrape of armor. Order and tension walked over each other in military silence.

She took a staircase, passed two junior officers who acknowledged her with a glance, and turned toward the east wing, where the deterrence team had been quartered since their return from the front.

No need to ask where Elisa was.

She could feel her.

The door was ajar. Maggie pushed it open with a sharp shove.

Elisa was there, sitting on the edge of the bed, mechanically sharpening her spear. Her gaze was elsewhere, lost on some point on the ceiling only she seemed to see. Glossy with sweat, her hair still damp, she wore a wrinkled combat uniform, unchanged since that morning’s drills.

She looked up at Maggie, slightly surprised but not wary.

"You look like hell," she observed flatly.

"Come. Now."

Maggie didn’t wait for an answer.

She grabbed Elisa’s arm without gentleness. The elf stood with a jolt, startled by the grip, her spear still in her other hand.

"Hey, easy! What the hell?!"

"Not here. Not in front of the others."

Her voice was too calm to be harmless.

Maggie practically dragged her to her own temporary quarters two corridors down. A bare room, undecorated, barely furnished. A cot, a chest, a metal table. Not a place meant for tears—or for shouting.

She closed the door behind them.

Only then did she let go of Elisa’s arm.

Silence fell like a blade.

Elisa, brow furrowed, breathed harder, confused.

"Care to explain? You look like—"

"Dylan’s been captured."

The words dropped like a blade on tile.

Elisa didn’t answer right away. Her face barely moved, but her pupils dilated. Her hand, though, clenched the shaft of her spear so hard her knuckles whitened.

"What...?"

Maggie crossed her arms. This wasn’t the time for niceties.

"Alka’s report. He infiltrated an enemy convoy. Intercepted an important message. Spotted. Taken to the Marshal for interrogation. They found out he’s Awakened."

The silence that followed was bottomless.

One, then two heartbeats passed.

And Elisa whispered:

"Is he alive?"

"I assume."

"Being tortured?"

Maggie hesitated. A second. Just one.

"Probably."

A shudder ran through Elisa’s body. She didn’t scream. She didn’t cry. But her legs bent slightly, as if the ground had just shifted enough to remind her she’d never been as steady as she thought.

She lifted her chin, eyes bright, jaw tight.

"We have to go get him."

Maggie shook her head.

"No."

"No?! You just told me he’s alive, that they’re torturing him, and you want us to just stay here and—"

"You think I want to stay here?!" Maggie growled, eyes locked onto hers. "You think this is fun for me? That we can just pack up, march into enemy camp, knock out a few assholes, and carry him back?"

Silence settled. Heavy. Tense.

Maggie continued, softer:

"We’re not doing anything. Not yet. Not like this. Not without a plan. Not without a damn option that doesn’t end with our heads on spikes."

Elisa stared at her, trembling. Not with fear. With rage. A smothered rage. A rage with no direction left.

"They’re going to kill him..."

"Maybe," Maggie admitted. "But if we charge in blind, they’ll kill us too. And then it won’t just be Dylan we lose. It’ll be our whole damn rear line."

She sighed.

"I wanted you to be the first to know. Because I know how you feel. And because you’re not a kid. You’re a soldier. And if we’re going to save him, you’d better stay standing."

Elisa didn’t answer.

But she finally lowered her head.

The rage was still there. It would be for a long time. But she understood.

Fire was good. But fire without oxygen just burned in a vacuum.

And Maggie? She was going to show her how to make that anger breathe.

Maggie sat on the edge of her cot, elbows on her knees, hands clasped as if praying to a god who’d forgotten her long ago. Elisa remained standing, straight, her gaze fixed on the wall as if she could see through it. No one spoke. And yet, there was something hanging between them. That need to do something, yes. But not just anything.

"We’re contacting Gael."

Maggie said it like announcing rain that was already falling. Elisa finally turned her head, her expression caught between weariness and doubt.

"Why? Did he know about the convoy?"

"I don’t know. But he’s the one who sent us here. And he’s the one who knew Alka. If Dylan got captured... or if he was betrayed, we need to know how far it goes. All the way up to him."

Elisa hesitated, then nodded. Not out of trust. Out of calculation. Because even if Gael wasn’t clear, he might still be their only chance at seeing the bigger picture. At getting answers. Or a weak point to strike.

Maggie stood and rummaged through the chest at the foot of the bed. She pulled out a small oblong device, an artifact of sorcery given to each team by Gael. Not exactly traceable. But not without risk, either.

"You think he’ll answer?" Elisa asked.

"He always answers. Too curious to ignore a direct line. And besides, he owes us. He lost a pawn here. Maybe more."

Maggie activated the device. A few blue diodes lit up in a spiral, a cold draft rising along their skin. A vibration, almost organic. A wait.

And then, a dry voice cut through the air like a whetstone on steel:

"Maggie. Elisa. I assume this isn’t a courtesy call."

No image. Gael never exposed himself directly. Just his voice, muffled by an odd modulation, as if speaking through a cave full of echoes.

Maggie didn’t even bother with greetings. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

"You know about Dylan."

A pause. Slight. Almost imperceptible. Then:

"I just found out. Alka’s report. A... troubling detail."

Elisa clenched her fists.

"Troubling? He’s been captured. He’s going to die. And you call that a detail?"

"No. I call it a strategic loss. And potentially an inside job."

Maggie cut in, her tone harder:

"Did you know he was going in alone? That he was Awakened? That he was tracking some damn unknown gem in one of Pilaf’s convoys?"

Another silence.

"I knew he was following a lead. But I never ordered anything like that. The gem... that’s something else. He never mentioned it to me."

Maggie exchanged a glance with Elisa. Lie or truth, hard to say. But even if it was true, it didn’t absolve him.

"We want him out, Gael. And we don’t know who to trust. Not even Alka. So if you know something, it’s now. Not in three days. Not when he’s already dead."

Gael’s voice lowered, almost... sincere. Or at least skillfully tinged with gravity.

"I thought you were more pragmatic. But fine. I’ll dig. There have been names surfacing in reports lately. Unusual spiritual resource movements on Pilaf’s side. Prisoner transfers. If Dylan’s alive, I’ll find him."

Elisa punched the wall. Not hard. But enough to let the frustration, the burn, be felt.

"You want us to just stay here in the meantime? And wait?"

"No. Keep up your operations. Sabotage as many bases as you can. When the time comes, you’ll know. And then, you’ll act."

Maggie deactivated the device without another word.